Hey. Aren't you dead? (Molly/Harry - complete)
Backdated to before the bar scene with Jo.
It was hard for him to admit, but the truth was, there wasn't much left for Harry in Chicago. Not right now, maybe never again. Of course, there were his friends, his cat, his dog, his apprentice his daughter.... but by all their knowledge, he'd died. Months ago. He'd said his goodbyes the best he could, given the circumstances. He'd done what he could to save them.
They were coping. Molly was working on what she could to keep his reputation alive. Mister had a new home, and Mouse was safeguarding Maggie - who couldn't be safer with the Carpenters and the squad of guardian angels that surrounded their home. As much as it hurt that his daughter would never know him, Harry knew what it meant to be raised by the Carpenters. To have that solid foundation of love, support, and faith. It was something he wanted for her, a part of life he himself had never gotten to experience. Something Maggie would never have with him.
He wasn't a part of that life anymore. He'd known that before ever calling upon Mab. It was why he'd made the call to Kincaid in the first place - this wasn't a deal he would survive. Not the way he had been.
The only reason for coming to Chicago at all had been to collect Bob. It had taken some time, but in the end, Butters had given him back the skull, promising not to tell the others he'd been there. Harry wasn't certain how long that promise would last, but he hadn't told the little coroner where he was going. But Harry needed Bob's expertise for this matter in York, and it had been worth the risk and the trip to come back for him.
Now, he just hoped to get away before anyone else came looking. He should have known better since he’d been the one who taught her everything she knew, the least of which was magic. How to think. When and why to use her skills. And how to be sneaky. Granted, Molly hadn’t needed much help there since she’d been working on perfecting that art from the time she was a kid and was avoiding her mom, but Harry had a particular flavor of sneak she’d noticed and adapted it to her own way of doing things.
Seeing Harry had hurt. A lot. Mostly because it had confirmed that he was gone. It put another scar on in her head and added to the ones she was getting on her heart. Lea told her this would strengthen her, that she should use her anger and hurt to fuel her mission.
Mission. Whatever that meant anymore. The time of the Ragged Lady in Chicago was apparently coming to an abrupt end. Carlos had gotten a hold of her and told her to vamooseout of Chicago. After all that mess the Wardens clued in and were coming after her. Carlos was delaying as much as possible but he wouldn’t be able to hold off for long without making himself suspect and he was too cute for her to let him take the heat.
Okay, he’d been covering for her for months now so she owed him, but he’d also given her a destination to run to that the Wardens were least likely to ever go. Apparently something big and ugly opened up in southeastern Pennsylvania, and he asked her to go look into it. She couldn’t tell Carlos no, not after everything he’d done for her. He even gave her a suggestion to help her out since Lea apparently took off somewhere for parts unknown. She had to get Bob.
Without the Leanansidhe with her to keep training her Molly needed someone with enough knowledge and no beef against her to keep her going. She’d also gotten the impression from what little Carlos had told her that she’d need Bob for whatever was going on in PA. Lea had told her about the spirit of knowledge and that Butters had the skull. Molly didn’t see too much of a problem getting it from him. Butters liked Molly, right? Hopefully. She’d scared all of them pretty well the past few months, but Molly was banking on the recent events having cleared her name a bit with her friends.
Still, she didn’t want anyone to see her while she was out in the open so uber veil in place she made her way to the former M.E.’s last known whereabouts. This had always come pretty easily to her, but after everything she’s been through recently the veil came as easy as breathing anymore. It meant she wasn’t as cautious as she probably should have been as she rounded the corner of the building and got knocked on her ass as she ran right into someone coming around the corner at the same time.
A curse that would scorch her parents’ ears hissed out from her but the veil held. That is until she looked up and saw who she ran into. All concentration, including the blinding light spell that she held in ready in her head, went right out the window as she stared up at her once and supposed to be dead teacher. Her mouth hung open as she sat there on the ground gaping like a landed fish.
Even if there had been time to toss up a veil, Harry couldn't have used one strong enough to hide from Molly. She was too sensitive, and the feel of the spell alone would have given him away. So he didn't. His own surprise, panic, and resolution had passed by the time Molly's jaw fell open, and Harry extended his hand to help her up. "Come on, grasshopper," he said, tone edged with that mentor voice he'd used when she'd done something silly. "If you're going to be veiled like that, you ought to be aware of your surroundings. Wasn't Lea trying to teach you that?"
Damnit, stars and stones, and hell's freaking bells. Of all the people he wanted to avoid....
“I…” Molly blinked repeatedly before snapping her mouth shut, realizing that she looked ridiculous. Her eyes went to the outstretched hand of her supposed to be dead mentor. It looked solid enough, but there was only one way to find out. She frowned as he hesitantly took his hand and discovered that yes, it was just as solid as anyone else. It meant she frowned more as she got to her feet. Her hands fisted as she yanked hers back and her expression was bordering on thunderous. “Well exCUSE me if I wasn’t expecting to run into someone who is supposed to be dead!”
She looked ready to put one of those fists into his face, and between her mom and Lea she’d be damn capable of it too. Of course the tears that immediately filled her eyes took something away from the anger boiling on the surface of her expression. “You’re supposed to be d-dead!”
Something in her head went DING just that quick and a shield pressed up between them with Molly taking an offensive stance behind it. “Drop it! Now!”
Harry stayed just as he was. He knew what was crossing through her mind. Beings had taken his shape before, just to screw with his friends. To hurt them. It wasn't unthinkable that it could happen again. It was one of the reasons Murphy had asked Molly to verify Harry's presence earlier.
Molly, using her Sight, had been the only one privy to that conversation. She'd mentioned it to Murphy, but not the exact words. Harry, a somber expression on his face, spoke with an English accent on his words. "You will go to the Dagobah System. There you will meet Yoda, the Jedi Master who instructed me."
Then, moving slowly, he raised his left hand, stripped off the leather glove, and pressed it against her shield. "You're getting better at those. I remember when you had trouble stopping snowballs." He'd been far more gentle with Molly than his own teacher had been to him. Lea had criticized his approach. He wondered still if his godmother was right.
It was the scars that settled it for Molly. You had to know to look for it but the Denarian symbol on the palm of his hand cemented the truth. A lot of people knew he’d burned his hand pretty bad, but very few knew about that small patch of skin that was protected and even less than that would have been able to reproduce the correct symbol that well.
“…harry?” Molly looked at him and for a moment that young woman he had known showed on her face. Better not have blinked though or you missed it since in the next moment the shield was down and she was launching herself at him for a rib breaking hug. “Harry!”
Harry caught her in his own arms, shutting his eyes as he felt the faint burning of tears well up. She was warm in his arms, warm and solid. He set a gentle, chaste kiss on the top of her head and held on tight. "Easy, grasshopper," he said in a voice thick with emotion. "I've got my ribs again. Rather not get 'em broken."
He wasn't entirely sure what to say to her. Despite his words, he didn't let her go. Just held on, one hand stroking her hair. "It's me, Molly," he whispered. "It's really me. I'm alive." He repeated that a few times, careful not to say he was okay. That wasn't a word he would use to describe himself right now. And he was feeling too raw to attempt even a casual white lie.
Everything that had happened to her in the past few months kind of came bursting out through the tears and the sobs that shook her. It only got worse every time Harry opened his mouth. The little doubt that had lingered had made her open her senses some and what she felt was all him. All Harry. It was going to take a few moments until she could say anything.
She finally pushed back looking more like the Ragged Lady that certain denizens of Chicago were afraid of. Some women could cry gracefully. Molly wasn’t one of them. Her eyes and nose were red. Her cheeks were wet and blotchy. Not exactly the statuesque blond bombshell she used to be at the moment.
“How.” It was more demand than request for information but it was still said through sniffles. “Kincaid doesn’t miss and if he pulled the shot I’ll…” die horribly trying to punch him, “…do something.”
Harry let out a breath. "He didn't miss. And he didn't pull it. I think..." He frowned, shutting his eyes and trying to remember those last few moments. "I tripped. Just a little. Maybe just enough for him not to have a clean shot. But I fell. Into the water. I died in the water." His hands spread slowly as he opened his eyes again. "She brought me back. Drained herself doing it, but she did."
He didn't want to speak the name out loud. In a way, his queen was always with him, linked to the power she provided. Simply speaking her name - even thinking it too clearly - might be enough to attract her attention. "It was snowing, Molly. In May. You know who was there."
Talking about Mab was one thing. Molly knew about his choice. Hell's bells, she'd been an accomplice to his murder. Suicide. Whatever it was. But the connection with Demonreach was something he didn't understand well enough to discuss yet. The spirit had also gone to great lengths to keep Harry alive and safe, and Harry wasn't sure why.
Molly’s lips had parted through his explanation. Guilt grabbed a hold of her and shook her like Mouse with that stuffed bear she’d brought him once. They’d failed then. It hadn’t worked. He was still stuck being the Winter Knight and a slave to Mab. “…shit.”
A few more tears escaped past already soaked lashes. “So it was all for nothing anyway. She got her way.” Her voice hitched between being pissed and upset. Oh it was all right that she’d been taking lessons from the Leanansidhe, become a fugitive and scared away all her friends when Harry had been dead and escaped. But now that was all moot. Meaningless. Son of a bitch! “I failed anyway!”
"No." Harry reached out and held the girl by her shoulders. "No, Molly, this wasn't your fault. None of it is your fault." His eyes looked into hers, without fear of a soulgaze. That bridge had been crossed. "She doesn't control me. I choose my own fate." A mischievous smile flashed on his lips. "I needed to learn that. But I still can't stay."
That was the hard part. It was almost a relief that his first assignment was taking him out of Chicago for the foreseeable future. Harry didn't know how to remain a presence in their lives anymore; not Molly's or Murphy's or anyone's. He'd already said his goodbyes, or as much of them as he could. He'd thought it was as clean a break as he could make.
It was no one's fault but his own. His choices, his free will. It hurt that Molly saw it as her own failure. "It wasn't fair of me to ask that of you, Molly. I'm sorry."
“Oh cut the crap, boss!” She glowered at him and shook a shoulder free of his hand. “Don’t you DARE apologize to me! Don’t you fucking dare! Not after everything I’ve been through.” His other hand got shoved from her shoulder but she only backed up one step before crossing her arms. She could feel guilty if she wanted to because at her age you should be able to hold back the tides if you put your mind to it.
“I’m perfectly capable of making up my own mind, you know. Not every idea you come up with is so brilliant that I just have to obey.” Her jaw jutted out making her look more like the stubborn student he’s had for a few years now instead of some crazy bag lady. “I did it because it made sense and I didn’t want to see you turn into an asshole.” Pause. “More of an asshole.” A smirk tugged at one corner of her lips but she refused to let it show.
“But I’m glad you’re not dead and can tell her to take a flying leap.” REALLY glad! Even if it didn’t change things. The Wardens would still be coming after her and she had to go. Nervousness took back over making her tense and on the defensive. “And I gotta go too. The Wardens are gunning…well, swording for me and I got a lead on somewhere I can help. Just need to uh…” whoops! Probably not a good thing to tell your ex-supposed-to-be-dead-boss you were going to swipe his ex-familiar-skull bound-spirit thing.
Harry still winced at her words, particularly at the swearing. Hells bells, he knew he could curse up a storm, but hearing it from Molly... Knowing her parents, Michael in particular, Harry wasn't used to that language from a Carpenter. Worse still was the feeling that he'd done her wrong. Very wrong. Bringing her to Chichén Itzá had been one of the worst things he could have done to her; a sensitive, in the midst of the bloodiest and most violent battle of the entire war? Harry himself knew he was not the most sensitive guy, magically speaking, and he himself had a blank spot in his mind when that bloodline curse had gone off. Two minutes that his mind simply had shorted out on, from the magical energies and the violent deaths. It was enough to have ripped Molly's psyche to pieces.
And without stability, without him, she had been thrown into the world he had left behind. Still trying to do the right thing, in whatever way she could.
He owed her more than apologies could make up for. Despite what she thought, he had dragged her along. He could have left her behind, man the phones, check in with all parties - Molly had grown to accept that. Instead, Harry had picked up every weapon in his arsenal, and gone after his daughter, with no thoughts to the long-term. Hell's bells, he'd considered it a suicide mission from the start. What reason had there been to consider the repercussions?
Perhaps Molly would have insisted coming anyway. Perhaps not. Harry knew that, given the same options, he would do it all again. So why waste time arguing with her now?
"Wardens?" Harry's eyes narrowed, and he scanned the streets with his eyes, his wizard senses extending outward to feel for any magic around them. "No," he said. "No, Molly, they can't come after you. They have to get through me first." Then his brow furrowed slightly, and he looked down at her. "A lead to go where?"
Stars and stones, if she was heading to York...
To say that Molly was a bit touched after Chichén Itzá was putting it mildly. Not only had she almost died from bleeding out, but her psyche had indeed taken a hit. She still didn’t know entirely what the damage was in her grey matter but it had been mentioned…quietly mentioned…that she had taken on some of the more interesting bits of personality from the people that had been there with her. Hence the sailor speak.
She eyed him speculatively as he went all defensive, her head tilting to one side almost like Mouse when he didn’t understand something. “Relax, boss. Usually I can sense them a mile away unless they popping out right on top of me from a Way. That doesn’t mean I want to hang around in one place for any length of time.” Carlos had sent them on a bit of a goose chase, and she’d left signs of her presence where he’d sent them to cover his butt in return, but they’d catch on and scry for her lickety split when they didn’t find her. She had to move.
Of course then he leveled that suspicious look on her that always made her feel a bit guilty even when she hadn’t done anything and her eyes rounded into that innocent look she could pull off so well. It didn’t work as well in her Ragged Lady get up. Now it just made her look a little more insane. “East Jabbip, Pennsylvania. Some backwater hicks got themselves into some hot water. Or will be in hot water. Something like that. It’s a good cover since it’s apparently a bit difficult to scry into and I can help.” She emphasized the last three words as if they were really, really important to her.
Pennsylvania. Harry didn't know where East Jabbip was, but if she was in Penn, she was well away from Chicago. But much closer to the Hellmouth.
"Look," he said. "I've got a job out that way myself. So if you need a hand, or once you're done..." He pulled a small notebook from his pocket, and a pencil, jotting down a phone number. "This is where you can reach me, Molls. If you need to, don't hesitate." And if she was with Harry again, the Council would back off.
It was just like Langtry to know that Harry was alive, but still send others after Molly. The bastard. And with Harry keeping his lack-of-death quiet, there was no way the Wardens would have known otherwise. He really wasn't making the best decisions lately, was he?
"I'll see if I can cut down on your tails," he said. "But if I'm still vouching for you, then you're still my apprentice. And I'm about shin-deep in the fire. So it's up to you, Molls. What do we do?"
Molly took the paper with a skeptical look on her face. Something was trying to connect up in her head because this was sounding a little too coincidental. She chewed on a corner of her lip as she looked at the number he wrote down. Boss man could use a cell phone for about as long if not less than she could. This would be a land line and the area code looked all too familiar since Carlos had given her the number to a motel she could hole up in.
“You’re kidding right?” Her eyes lifted from the paper to Harry. “You’re going to York too?” Obviously he knew nothing about sarcastic terms for backwater towns. East Jabbip. Outer Mongolia. Hicksville. Maybe it was just her. Whatever. “Wow. Must be pretty bad if they’re pulling out the big guns and sending Zombie Dresden.” She smirked a little for that.
Harry blinked. "Ah. East Jappib is a new one to me. I usually go with Nowheresville or Bumblefuck. Sounds good." He gave her a nod. "Wise, grasshopper."
Then his voice became serious again. "Look, Molls. There's real trouble out that way. And yeah, I'm there right now, too. Courtesy of You Know Who." He suppressed the shudder. He wanted to lay on a joke about brains, but if he did, it might take away from the situation. "There was a meeting. A big meeting. The Merlin was there." He couldn't completely disguise the contempt in his voice, but he tried to. "If this is allowed to happen.... it's Big, Molls. Apocalypse Big. Everyone's coming up to bat on this one."
Good and evil alike. He didn't understand at first why information was spread to o many, but for Winter and Summer, it was about balance. Not morals. Still, as he had told Mab, he would do this in his way. He would be her Knight, the most terrifying Knight the Sidhe had ever seen. He would be legendary. But he would be true to himself.
And he would do right by Molly. He would make it up to her. Whether she knew it or not.
Rattled in the grey matter or not being called Grasshopper again by him pulled a smile from her, and the praise straightened her shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much any of that had meant to her until now for as much as she’d been on the run. Lea sure didn’t hand out praise.
It wasn’t the idea of the end of the world pending that made her pale. It was mention of the Merlin and the fact that there might very well be grey cloaks with big sharp pointy sword in the same area she was headed. “But….if everyone’s going to be there….um…” she gulped off the last of that, whatever it was she had been about to say.
Why would Carlos send her right into the middle of everyone? Unless he didn’t know and it sounded like he might not. But she couldn’t stay here! And she needed to get Bo-…which Harry probably already had since he was here and going there and now Molly really kind of wanted to facepalm. This sucked!
Harry snorted. "You think that white-staffed asshole would send anyone to work with me? Old Harry Warlock-In-Waiting Dresden? Besides, kid, I doubt he's gotten anyone else to volunteer. If he even told them. They've got a lot going on, too." He shook his head a bit. "I'm still part of the White Council, Molly. If you're with me, it's back on probation. And we deal with the rest." The rest being the things she'd done over the last several months while Harry was dead. The fact that he was alive and well didn't negate that statement. As the Winter Queen had said, there was only degrees of death. Or, he preferred the Miracle Max version - only mostly-dead, not all-dead.
Now that he was thinking about it, he could use her help. Seeing Molly in action had cemented what she was capable of. Some more serious training, and Molly would be wearing her own Council robes. He was certain of it.
If she didn't lose her head first.
Literally.
Something about her expression got the wheels turning in his head. Why was Molly on this side of town? A few months ago, he might have believed she was checking in on Butters, but that was before the Ragged Lady had isolated herself from the rest of their ragtag gang. And if she was heading to York as well...
Ah. He wasn't sure if he should applaud her decision, or slap it down. "You were coming for Bob, weren't you?"
Oh Molly had done plenty of questionable things over the past months while everyone believed Harry was dead, but the order for her “trial” had come before any of that had gone down. Still, Lea took her oath to Harry very seriously and had kept Molly right on the ragged edge of those pesky Laws of Magic the White Council held above everyone’s head. Anything truly naughty had been done by Lea herself in the role of the Ragged Lady. A lot of times that had frustrated Molly to no end, and now with the hunt for her back on it would be damned hard to prove she hadn’t broken the rules.
She liked the idea of being back with her old teacher. REALLY liked that idea! Lea’s lessons left bruises that didn’t go away for weeks! She deflated a little as she breathed out a sigh of relief, nodding with an easier smile. “Okay.”
And then that smile ran away. It was replaced with a guilty look her dad and Father Forthill probably saw a whole lot while she was growing up. “Um…Leatoldmeto!” She said it in a rush as if that might make it better that she was throwing the scary crazy death Sidhe lady looking out for her under the bus.
Harry shook his head immediately. “Trust me on this, Molly - you’re not ready to go one-on-one with Bob. Butters had him for a bit, but Butters doesn’t have a magical bone in his body.” And Butters was the sort of person to give Bob a twenty-page contract to ensure his own safety for a ride-along.
Harry rubbed a hand over his face. The idea of Bob talking to Molly, taking his own fresh personality under this shattered image of his apprentice made him shudder. Molly had the potential to be a very, very scary person. Bob didn’t know enough about human morality to guide her, and her own were too shaky to guide him. "What he knows, what he can do... it's dangerous, Molly. With me, he's a wise-cracking porta-geek, but... remember Ivy?" Of course she would. No one who met the Archive ever really forgot the experience. "He's got that kind of potential. Only Bob isn't fourteen. Once, just once, I let him revert to an older personality. He nearly killed me. Took less than a minute."
No need to add that Bob had lopped off that particular part of himself. Evil Bob was twice as scary, tenfold more cruel. Harry hadn't gotten a chance yet to ask his old friend about what had happened in the Nevernever after the Way had closed, but he was planning to, as soon as they were back in York.
“You’re not ready for that yet,” he said, his voice stern. “Taking power should never be so easy. There’s always a price for it, Molly, always. Bob the Skull, a faerie godmother, or Winter Knight -- there’s a price. Didn’t you even think about that?”
She took a step back from him, her eyes widening. She didn’t do well with being cornered physically or metaphorically. Not anymore. Kind of made her all panicky and scattered her thoughts, bringing back flashes of sounds, screams, pain, blood, her light show not working as well as it should and oh god….
Molly felt herself starting to lose it, a small sound forcing its way out of a tight throat. Her fingers went to her knotted hair and she closed her eyes. Lea had told her to breathe. Deeply and evenly. This is not my enemy before me. We do not power blast our allies. It was a mantra she grabbed a hold of with her clenched teeth. There had been a really good reason she hadn’t gone back to the others. Sometimes, there in the beginning, it had been kind of difficult to figure out who was friend and who was foe. PTSD is what the government called it when it was a soldier home from a war. Kinkaid would call it a weakness to be exploited. So would a whole bunch of other people not near as nice as him. Lea had done what the Unseelie bitch could do to get Molly past it. She did pretty good anymore…unless someone she really looked up to comes back from the dead all unexpectedly!
Energy began to gather, and Harry chastised himself for getting so angry, dismissing his emotions. He drew upon his will, catching the growing panic in the air, and dismissed it with an uttered "Stregallum finitas." A working like that would have been beyond him a few years ago (minus that one time he was hopped up on a super-powered energy potion), but now, the spell dispersed with a faint chill, creating a gentle mist in the air around them.
"Come on, grasshopper," he said softly. "Pull it together." Time for coddling was over, as much as he wanted to put an arm around her right now. His stance and expression relaxed a bit, giving her time to compose herself.
The deep breathing was suddenly easier. The mantra more easily believed. Molly took a few deep breaths, lowering her hand from her hair then eventually opened her eyes. She looked mortified, beyond embarrassed but with a hint of stubbornness in her eyes that dared him to say anything about that little episode.
“Okay.” Another breath. “I’m okay. Sorry.” One more deep breath then she frowned in frustration. That hadn’t happened in a few weeks now. She’d forgotten what it was like, didn’t think it would happen again. She hated it!
Change of subject time! “How were you getting to York? I was going to hitch.” Stealing a car was right out. Taking a Way was laughable. Hitchhiking was all she could do.
As he answered, his hand unconsciously went to the pentacle amulet around his neck, fingering the ruby affixed to the back. "I know a Way," he said. "Twenty minute walk. Just keep to the path as you go."
She seemed more in control, and with that glare, Harry had to bite down on asking if she was alright. Damn it, she needed time to heal, and here he was, tossing her right back into the fire. "You can say no, Molly. You don't have to do this. You don't have to come with me."
It had to be her choice. If nothing else, he was learning how much that mattered. Choice.
If he vocalized any of that hesitation she would prove to him that her mom taught her how to throw a punch. As it was her expression went as flat as his had a moment ago and she crossed her arms, hunching up her shoulders. “And do what? Hide at my folks’ house for the rest of my life?” She shook her head. “Not happening, boss.
She knew he was just trying to protect her so she made an effort to soften her expression and step back towards him, reaching out to put her hand on the side of his arm. “I’m neck deep in alligators too. If I wanted out of this I could have taken Lea up on her other offer.” It had been the same offer she’d given Harry many times. Join the pack. It was that, fight back or let the Wardens have her head. No student of Harry Dresden would have had to think about it for long.
Harry felt a surge of pride in his young apprentice. She was a fighter, he'd give her that. And she was trying to choose the right path. Trying to work through the crappy options she had to make something work. Even if it meant she might get hurt.
Harry saw his own life and choices as something very close to insanity. But seeing it in Molly, he saw nothing but courage.
"Alright, grasshopper. Rules of apprenticeship still apply. You do what I tell you, when I tell you. No running off on your own. And for God's sake, don't piss off the vampire in my house. She's my guest, and you'll treat her accordingly." The very last thing he needed was for Phaedra and Molly to get into a fight. Hell's bells. Maybe he could find a small apartment for Molly.
Relief flooded her unexpectedly. It almost brought those tears back. They stayed where they belonged but her eyes were a bit more shiny than usual as she nodded and drew an X over her chest. “Whatever you say, boss!” Dear God it would be so much better back working with Harry!
Or…wait. She blinked as what he just said registered. “A vampire?” That was…weird! Harry wouldn’t stand for having a leech hanging around let alone living with him! “What Court?” Because it sure as hell wasn’t a Red Court! And a Black Court? Yeah right! Which left…
Assumption dawns on marble brow as Molly’s lips formed an oh, her cheeks turned a little pink and she stared at her teacher. “….oh. Uh…nevermind.”
Harry rolled his eyes. "She's a different sort of vampire. Not from the Courts we know. And no, not the White Court. Hell's bells, Molly, you think I'd jump in with one of them?" He wasn't the type to do casual, and with Susan's death still so fresh in his mind (more than six months had passed, sure, but for him, it had barely been a fortnight) he wasn't willing to throw himself into another relationship.
Especially not after he and Murphy....
They'd toed the line, but a bullet through the chest had taken Harry out of the equation before they'd gotten the chance to gallivant over it.
Some part of his mind told him that leaving without saying anything was the equivalent of running away. Harry shut up that inner voice. Murphy... Karrin had enough to deal with.
"She's working for me. Kincaid recommended her. She's... I don't know what. Very close to her humanity. I know I could soulgaze her. I don't trust her, not yet, but she's good to her word. Kincaid wouldn't have suggested her otherwise."
She held her hands up in the universal I Surrender, Peace, Look I’m Not Armed gesture with a bit of a sheepish smirk on her face. “Hey, you’re attached to the Frosted Witch of the North now, boss. For all I know that put a bit of slink in your kink. Not to mention what I know about people’s behavior when they come back from the dead could fit on my pinky nail and still have room.”
Okay so no White Court, which was good because after having soulgazed Thomas Molly kind of wanted to avoid them. Really, really avoid them. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself around one. But this vamp Harry was describing could be close to what they were if she was more human than monster, and recommended by Kinkaid. Two good reasons to keep an eye on her. Monsters were monsters no matter the packaging, and the better they could pull off being human the more potential for lowering your guard you would be. She liked Alive Harry a lot better than Dead Harry, and if she had her way he would stay that way.
“Right. No baiting the leech in the closet.” Her smile was a bit impish but she’d do as Harry asked.
"Right." He gave her a stern look, but it was somewhat marred by the smirk in the edge of his mouth and the laughter in his eyes. He took a step closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a brief hug. "Let's go, Molls. Before someone catches us here."
He moved away, towards the wall, and ripped open a Way to the Nevernever with an effort of will. The green glow hung in the air. It was Summer's time, so he would have to make the journey quickly, but at least it would be a pleasant one.
"Ready?" he asked, glancing back at Molly, his eyes taking in one last view of the city he loved.
She smirked knowing he was hiding one of his own and gave him the two thumbs up. “It’s 677 miles to York. We got full clip of bullets, half a stick of chalk, it’s ridiculously stupid and we’re going anyway.” And just in case he wasn’t going to finish the bastardized quote, “Hit it.”