A day in Lasciel's -- whoops, sorry, Harry's -- Head

Lasciel, fallen angel of God, looked around the area she was currently trapped in with an arched golden eyebrow. Simply put, she was bored.

There was literally nothing to do in this place. Sure, it was pretty -- everything having to do with Harry was, really -- but that didn't make it entertaining. She had finished going through his store of memories the night before, and now all she had to do was note his new additions.

There was the amusing cat-litter-box-of-fear, placed near the back door which was always locked, that one was new. The fear rose up and out of it, stinking like it should, coming from a litter box. She moved a hand restlessly in front of her nose.

The door was curious. It was dark red with a black symbol painted onto it, an athame shattering his mother's pentacle necklace. She knew it was where he kept his knowledge of Black Magic--the one place he tried to ignore. He covered it pretty well--it only stuck out like a sore thumb in a daycare.

Then there was the need. She felt it every day, thanks to this place she was stuck in. Always, always in need. She needed someone, needed to satisfy his need. The need snaked around the very air, almost invisible, but there, always. He needed someone, physically and emotionally. He needed someone to care for him. She had tried to sate that need before, but he wouldn't take it, even with her illusions. She thought she had done pretty well, but of course it wasn't good enough for Mr. High-and-mighty-Dresden.

There was a pressure in the air, and she knew that was his honor. He let it control everything else willingly. It was just the kind of person he was.

And he had a rock of loyalty and honesty in the middle of his mind. A great boulder, she didn't know how he dealt with all the clutter, but he managed to. She would have liked to climb that mountain, but it was one of the few things that kept pushing her away. She couldn't get near it or it would burn her. Severely.

She sighed and leaned back, her newly brunette hair flowing over the beach chair she had made for herself, and took a sip of the lemonade. "This place is boring," she said to herself, emphasizing the "o".

"Then again...I could just annoy Harry..." She smirked. He was in the shower. It was cold, as always. She heated it up. A lot. And then laughed as he danced around, trying to avoid the scalding water.

"What is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Not at all, my host. But do you have any idea how God-awful boring it is in here?"

"So you try to kill me for it?"

"It's only an illusion, my host." She giggled. "But it's cooler now, you can go in." He sighed and she felt him enter the shower, though she could feel the ghost of annoyance. It's time he lost that... she thought, and appeared in his shower.

From behind him, she pressed herself against his naked back. She had dressed for the occasion--as she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, she was wearing nothing.

She felt him stiffen, as always. He would never accept anything. She ran her fingers in little circles before he banished her again.

"What are you doing?" He asked, a gruff, annoyed sound to his voice.

"Calming you down," she replied simply.

"Go away."

"Oh come on, you know you want me to stay."

"Go away."

"But Harry..."

"Lasciel. Go away."

"Yes, Harry," she said, slinking into his head again. "Meanie."

He shook his head, and stayed in the shower for a few more minutes than normal. She felt as he got dressed, then watched as he answered the door to her. Karrin Murphy.

She could feel his longing intensify. Even if he kept his thoughts veiled, she could feel the love and longing he held for the female cop.

Why can't I ever be like her? she wondered. Why can't I be enough to satisfy my host? She watched Karrin laugh, smile, and then start forward and her expression change instantly to worry as a minor muscle tear that Harry hadn't let her soothe yanked at his thigh. Because she's human, she realized. I can never be like Karrin. She will always have Harry's heart.

But she's a human. She's a short-lifed mortal. After her death, I will have Harry all to myself.

Still...it's so hard, watching my host, my Harry, with that she-cop.

Ah well...Harry, have fun. You'll be mine some day.

And with that, Lasciel turned over and tried to sleep, fantasies of Harry Dresden, Wizard, running though her head.

I don't own anyone or anything, by the way. And this was just for fun, popped into my head, I wrote it. So...yeah. Standard disclaimer. Don't own anything, Jim Butcher owns the Dresden Files and everything in them. And I've only read book 1 of the Dresden Files, Dead Beat and Proven Guilty, so if they do describe his mind at some other point, I don't know it. This was just random. I feel sorry for Lasciel, so I wrote a little bit about her. Hope you enjoyed it, R&R please, no flames!

Kage