Title: The Waiting Game
Author: OXBastetXO
Rating: K
Archive: Please ask first
Status: Complete
Category: Missing Scene
Summary: When your trapped in your own skull, you spend a lot of time waiting.
Spoilers: Soul Beneficiary
Sequel/Season: Season one
Authors Note: I don't own them, Scifi does. I'm just borrowing them for while and promise to give them back when I'm done, though I might just keep Harry and Bob little longer ;-)
The Waiting Game
By
OXBastetXO
Bob paced.
He couldn't…
Surely, she'd find him. She was quite bright. Much brighter than Harry gave her credit.
She'd find him and bring him back.
He paced around the lab and peeked out through the wall into the hall. Once sure than no on could see him from the street, he stepped out into the hall and into the back room.
He had left them as much of a clue as he could. Granted, he could have stepped out in front of Murphy and odious toad that was her partner. How did that woman put up with his incessant and utterly droll banter? Given he could have done that, but other than bringing down the full judgment of the High Council and frightening the living daylights out of the woman and probably giving that little toad a heart attack, he wouldn't have been able to tell them any more than his "note" had told them.
He looked around the back room and sighed. Harry was a gifted wizard, but he was a total slob. He glanced into the sink and grimace. The tea cup that poor, poor man, Keelson…Woods…whatever his real name, had drank from still sat there…unwashed. He had it not been so obviously black magic, he still would have blamed Harry's dubious ideas of hygiene for the man's death. Had he not shown up, clearly not dead and then dead again.
Bob sighed. He should have made sure Harry had put charms and spells around the house to keep those women out. He should have kept a closer watch. He should have been able to sense them or seen them or somehow warned Harry.
He crossed his arms and continued to pace. This was when his punishment became a torment. Once, once he had all the powers of the universe at the tips of his fingers. At his beck and call. Power beyond any wizard in this time could comprehend. Anyone, except the High Council. They knew. They knew and they watched.
Impotent.
Powerless.
A mere shadow of who he once was, literally.
A shade trapped inside his own skull for all eternity.
He ground his teeth. The memory of teeth, in truth. He sighed again deeply.
"Harry," he groaned.
He was worried. That was the rub. He actually cared about the boy and he was completely powerless to do anything to help him.
Harry was the first in the long string of wizards his skull had belonged to that had treated him like a…friend. Not a servant or a slaved to be ordered about, not an arcane trinket from a bygone age set up on a shelf and forgotten about, but a friend who's opinion about things actually mattered. How very unwizardly and very Harry like.
The door on the front door jingled as the door was pushed open.
"You sure you're alright?" a female voice asked.
"Uh, well, yeah, thanks to you," came a very familiar voice and Bob breathed a sigh of relief and offered a silent prayer to whatever god watched out for idiots, small children and wizards named Harry.
He listened to the banter between Harry and Murphy with a smug smile. It worked. His little tidbit was just the piece of information the lovely Murphy needed to find and save Harry.
He may be a spirit, but he was hardly powerless and this time…this time it had worked.