Disclaimer – Jim Butcher owns these characters. All I get out of this is telling a story in the TV Verse
Baked In
Sequel of sorts to Burnt Out – all the snippets of Harry and Bob and the house being themselves. Plus some small case fics, and well 'five kids in five minutes: ask me how' has some distinct possibilities… consider this well and truly alternate universe
o0o0o
Archivist plus forms equals family
Harry woke long enough to get up and have a late dinner with the four children the wardens had brought back, plus Pete, Sheryl and Scott. Pete had been gone from his side when he'd woken. Sheryl had brought Bob to check on him when dinner was almost ready, and the Ghost had given short answers to Harry's questions, clearly still disturbed by the events of the last twenty-four hours. The house also felt uneasy, though as Harry moved around more, that feeling was alleviated.
Bob reported that Pete had slipped out of Harry's room at lunch time and that he'd helped Scott get the clothes Scott and Bob had located into Harry's former bedroom, making his bed up and then disappearing into the bathroom for a thorough shower. He'd dressed in the clothes they'd found for him, and Sheryl had discovered that the clothes from his parents house were in the trash can outside. Sheryl had supervised the making of beds and putting away of belongings for the other four children, who had brought the entirety of the contents of their bedrooms, as well as their various sporting equipment and bicycles. Scott had shown them where to store their bikes, and generally taken it on himself to squire Bob around as the Ghost requested. Harry was grateful that there had been someone who understood what Bob needed and was willing to help with it.
Pete definitely seemed calmer at dinner, though none of the children could be called lively. Bob had disappeared into his skull while they ate, emerging when the clean up began to supervise the wipe down of the kitchen. Harry thought that he'd been spending a lot of time this afternoon supervising and cajoling or ordering by turns. Certainly, none of the children thought it odd that he was giving directions to them, though that may have been because Scott didn't turn a hair at being reminded to do things, and Sheryl seemed to agree with Bob.
"Early to bed, I think," Harry said as they put away the clean and dry plates from dinner, "We'll sort out the world tomorrow."
Hannah came and hugged him goodnight, as did Pete after a moment of consideration. Mister hopped from the counter top to balance upon Mark's shoulder, nudging the boys cheek affectionately. Harry smiled and jerked his head in a 'go on' gesture and Al and Julia trailed the boy and cat out of the kitchen. Scott disappeared, mumbling about homework, leaving Sheryl, Bob and Harry alone, staring at each other.
"Harry, you should go back to bed too," Sheryl said after a long moment, "I can't believe you're already walking around after what happened…"
"Me either," Bob said sourly, "But far be it from me to curtail you in any way."
Sheryl's eyes widened, but Harry was used to Bob expressing his fears this way.
"Will you call me if you need me?" Harry asked, "I can help you know."
"Tomorrow, we'll see," Sheryl replied, "Good night Harry. Good night Bob."
She left them in the kitchen, and Harry gathered Bob's skull after a moment.
"Where would you prefer to go?" Harry asked. The mood the Ghost was in, Harry didn't want to force him into close contact with Harry until he was calmer. Bob gave him a contemptuous look and stalked towards the door, though he didn't move so quickly he reached the end of his freedom. He led the way back to Harry's bedroom and Harry put the skull carefully on the bed before changing out of the clothes he'd slept in. He left Bob fuming at the window to attend to his evening routine and take some aspirin for the pain that was nagging dully in his side. There were potions that made for excellent pain relief, but they were additive and Harry preferred not to use them unless he had to.
He slid into bed carefully, and then rolled onto his side, facing the fireplace and cradling Bob's skull to his chest.
"Bob, come here," Harry murmured, "Please."
The Ghost walked around to stand in front of Harry, his face smooth and his shoulders and back so tense that it would have been painful in a living being. Harry patted the empty side of the mattress with his hand. He'd had an idea in the bathroom about how to help Bob feel better, or at least he hoped it would make his mentor feel better.
"Lie down with me?" he asked. He'd never requested this before, and Bob visibly startled. He'd sat beside Harry on the bed, usually when Harry was ill and Bob was trying to check on him, or get him to rest, but Harry had never asked the Ghost to lie beside him. Bob moved slowly, apparently having to think about how to do this, and when he was finally lying flat beside Harry he was stiff as a board. Harry put his head down and dropped a kiss on the skull, wanting to express his repentance for putting Bob through the horror of watching him almost die and the Ghost's chest heaved. To his dismay, Bob's composure broke and he covered his face, sobbing.
Harry stroked the skull, concentrating on sending comfort and reassurance through his touch. Bob had confessed once that he could feel it when Harry was in the grip of a strong emotion and touched the skull. Early in their relationship he'd flinched when Harry, in a rage, had grabbed the skull to move it with him to the lab. Harry had tried to be more careful since then, keeping his hands to himself when he was really angry.
It took a while for Bob to calm, and he wouldn't look at Harry when he wiped his face clear, "If you ever put me through that again Dresden…"
"I won't," Harry said, knowing better than to make it a promise, "I didn't intend to die, Pops, I didn't intend to get hurt at all. If the rebar hadn't hit me, I think I'd have been mostly ok, just exhausted."
"You would," Bob confirmed, looking at Harry finally, though his breathing was still disturbed, "The spells you wove with the elements were so… beautifully elegant, Harry. I was so proud of how you crafted that spell net."
"Your humble student," Harry smiled. Tears gathered in Bob's eyes again and he looked up at the ceiling impatiently.
"Go to sleep darling," Bob instructed, striving for his usual tone, "We are going to be busy for the next few days, and you will need all the rest you can get. I'll be here."
Harry nodded and snuggled the skull more closely into his chest, letting his eyes close. He pretended he couldn't hear Bob crying, and eventually sleep came.
0o0o0
The archivist turned up just after breakfast, a whole hour earlier than expected, pulling up behind a more familiar car. Murphy got out and frowned when she realised that Harry was leaning on a walking cane, looking pale as he stood in the front doorway. He'd just seen Scott off to school, and Sheryl had informed him she was calling in sick to act as a witness to the adoption if one was needed, and help out with the logistics of sorting out schooling for five children.
"What the hell happened to you?" Murphy asked gruffly, covering her concern in her usual way. He eyed the file in her hand and hoped it wasn't something that needed a lot of leg work. With five mouths to suddenly feed, he needed to work.
"I got stabbed," Harry replied, "Its fine, but I'm off field work for a bit."
"What the hell Harry? You get stabbed and you don't call me?" Murphy hurried forward, ignoring the archivist. Harry hung his head. His mundane partner took his safety pretty seriously, in fact she was the only living being to do so. It made it easier for Harry to forget that people cared about him too. Usually it was just Bob.
"It wasn't… something I was allowed to tell you about," Harry glanced at the archivist and her power suit, who was clearly listening. Murphy also looked at her, and bristled as only Murphy could
"Can I help you? This is a private conversation," the Lieutenant's tone was not patient.
"I'm here about your adoption of the children, Wizard Dresden," the archivist said pointedly, clearly enjoying the situation. Murphy's eyes bugged out.
"Oh crap, is this how my day is going to go now?" Harry asked the sky, and grit his teeth when there was no reply, "You," he pointed at the archivist, "Are not due for another hour according the message I was handed this morning, so come back when we're ready."
He hadn't been handed the message per se, it had been floating outside his window when he'd woken that morning. Bob had retreated to his skull some time during the night, and Harry had left his skull resting on the bed while he got ready for the day, once he'd acknowledged the message. He was wearing the satchel now though, as Bob had yet to emerge. He watched as she sniffed in outrage, and waved Murphy into the house. He listened to the archivists car spray gravel as she left, and hoped none of it had hit Murphy's cop issued sedan.
Murphy stalked past him into the foyer, stuttering to a halt when she came across Al, who was sitting forlornly on the bottom step. Harry had seen them all at breakfast, when he'd passed on when they needed to gather together, and then they'd scattered throughout the house. He wasn't expecting to see them until the appointed time, and he thought it was for the best that they take a moment to come to terms with what was about to happen.
"Al," Harry smiled, "This is Lieutenant Murphy, Chicago PD. Are you ok?"
"Yeah," Al muttered, "Just, I don't know what to do now. Are we even going back to school?"
"Yes," Harry nodded, "I'll sort that out today. You should stay in the house for now, the archivist will be here in an hour. The library is down that hall, to the left. See what you can find."
Al got up and trudged dejectedly in the direction he'd been pointed to, and Murphy glared at Harry. He put a finger to his lips then pointed up. Mark was semi-hidden on the landing and Murphy's eyes widened even further. She followed Harry to his workroom, closing the door behind her and tossing the file she carried onto his desk.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, hands on her hips, "And sit down will you? Where were you stabbed?"
"Lower abdomen, but I was lucky," Harry hedged and sat in his desk chair gingerly. He wasn't above playing it up a bit to get her sympathy, but that was a dangerous game to play with Murphy, who could spot a lie a mile off through lead lining.
"And the adoption?" she asked sweetly, and Harry grimaced. This was not going to be easy to explain.
"I had a case," he started, "One of mine, Murphy, not one of yours. And the … weird stuff got out of control for a bunch of kids with more curiosity than sense."
"That's how you got hurt?" Murphy was at least listening, though far from ready to let things slide, "Helping the kids?"
"Yes," Harry nodded, "And I found out that one of them was being kicked around by his family, and the other four… they got disowned because they got in over their heads doing something they shouldn't."
Which wasn't fair to Hannah and Al, who'd only tried to help, but he was trying to keep things simple for Murphy.
"And so you said you'd adopt them all," Murphy shook her head, the anger leaving her voice suddenly, "Because of course you would, it's a total Harry Dresden move."
"Should I have left them to live on the streets?" Harry asked, stung, "They're just kids Murphy. They deserve a second chance."
Murphy gave him an affectionate smile for a moment, before realising what she was doing and dropping it. Harry took that to mean that he wasn't being completely insane by doing this.
"Yeah well, don't give them too many," Murphy scowled, "Just because they had a rough break doesn't mean you should let them walk all over you, Harry. As a mom, there are times when I have to be the bad guy, or Anna would turn into a perfect little monster."
Harry wanted to be offended, but he recognised that he was likely to be too lenient with the kids while they adjusted to their new situation. Over indulging two teenagers who had already proven their reasoning skills and common sense was not the best would not help them pass their probation, and Hannah and Al deserved to be raised with proper boundaries too. Pete was another mess altogether, and Harry was sure the kid would be throwing curve balls once he got his feet under him.
"You're right," Harry conceded after thinking it through, "Does that mean I can call you for tips?"
Murphy laughed and threw her hands in the air, "Why the hell not? Are they all boys?"
"Two girls, ten and fourteen," Harry replied, smiling a little, "And a fourteen year old, eleven year old and nine year old boy as well."
"And the Sharpe's are still here, right? Well Miss Sharpe has a good head on her shoulders, so that should help; provided she doesn't run screaming into the night," Murphy shook her head, "I'd congratulate you, but you clearly have no idea what you're doing."
Bob had raised the orphaned boy of a murdered man though, in the house of his father's killer no less, so Harry had that help at hand: not that he could tell Murphy this.
"Only you, Dresden," Murphy sighed, "Can I ask you to look at something for me?"
"Sure," Harry leaned forward, pulling the file towards him, "And once I'm back to normal, I'll be able to get back into the field."
"You are many things, Harry. Normal isn't one of them," Murphy informed him and started spreading photographs on his desk, "We had a murder scene, with this stuff written all over the wall in permanent marker. Any ideas?"
The body was lying with its neck at the wrong angle, so no prizes for guessing the cause of death. Harry couldn't tell if it was someone using their power or someone using their hands that had caused the death, so he looked to the symbols on the walls for his answer, and was rather surprised to realise that while he could partially read what was there, it wasn't due to Bob's meticulous training in languages.
"You ever read JRR Tolkien?" Harry asked, sitting back after a moment, "Lord of the Rings, that series?"
"No," Murphy scowled and Harry nodded, flicking the pictures with his fingers.
"This is straight out of Lord of the Rings," he said and got up carefully, "I have a copy in the library somewhere, c'mon."
"So this is my stuff? Not yours?" Murphy followed him with the file back in her hand and Harry shrugged.
"I'll see what it says properly first, my elvish is pretty rusty. I learned it to annoy a tutor, just like I learned Klingon," he glanced back as she burst into laughter, his eyes sparking humour, "He was pretty mad."
Especially since Harry had successfully cast a spell in Klingon, just to make his point about the intent being more important than the words. He'd only lit a candle, but it had worked. Al was curled in an armchair with a book, and Pete had joined him, also reading something he'd pulled off the shelves.
The books were in a glass fronted case which Harry opened, running a finger along the shelf until he'd found the one he wanted. It seemed that Pete or Al was reading 'The Hobbit', as that volume was missing. He put the book on the table and Murphy fished out the pictures that didn't have a dead body in them, pulling her notebook out as well. Together they worked out what had been written on the wall, and she straightened in disgust when they finished.
"Definitely my stuff," she muttered through gritted teeth "What kind of … person… says that about someone else?"
"Someone with a grudge," Harry closed the book in disgust, "Here, take this with you. You can bring it back when you're finished."
"Thanks," Murphy collected everything up and paused for a moment. He wasn't expecting the sudden hug and bit down the hiss from the pull to his wound, wrapping an arm around her for a moment.
"You're an idiot, Harry. But a good man," Murphy told him, and stormed out.
"Talk about mixed messages," Bob said from behind a bookcase. Harry jumped and turned to look at the other being. He'd almost forgotten he'd been carrying Bob in the satchel, and hadn't been aware that the Ghost had manifested himself invisibly.
"Was that Lieutenant Murphy?" Sheryl asked from the doorway. Julia and Hannah were standing with her, and Mark slunk into the library behind them.
"Yes," Harry nodded, "She wanted a consultation. The archivist will be here soon: I think we should do the ceremony in here, don't you?"
The library was warm with sunlight, and the smell of the books and the leather seats was comforting and familiar to Harry. Better here than the large dining room, which was cold and still under covers. Harry would not have been able to relax anyway; the unpleasant memories of dinners with his uncle making it too hard to relax. The kids didn't need his tension marring the event that was about to happen.
"Definitely," Sheryl nodded. The kids joined them at the table and Harry put Bob's skull on the corner where he intended to sit, hooking the satchel over the back of his chair. The kids looked from the skull to the Ghost, eyes wide, and Harry sat down, his hand resting next to it on the table.
"Bob taught me almost everything I know about magic, its laws and its lore," Harry said it firmly, "And he'll be helping me teach you as well. He deserves the respect due to him as a knowledgeable and experienced teacher, and I will not be lenient if you are rude to him."
"But… he's done bad things!" Julia spluttered, and Bob raised a sardonic eyebrow at her, folding his arms in that fussy way of his. Harry didn't say anything, just looked at her patiently, the same way his dad had when he spoke without thinking. After a long moment she blushed and looked away.
"Anything else?" Harry asked, having made his point. They were in this situation because two of them had also done bad things, and while those mistakes could not be considered on par with the crimes of Hrothbert of Bainbridge, he was not going to put up with them judging others based on perceived flaws.
"No," Al rolled his eyes, "Julia is a bit… wound up, Wizard Dresden, she says stupid things when she's upset."
It was spoken with the authority of a little brother and Harry smiled at him, liking that the boy was sticking up for his sister.
"We've all done that," he replied, no judgement in his tone, "Now, I'll go let the archivist in, I won't be long."
He left Bob with them, though, wanting to be sure his point was clearly made. They'd accept the Ghost as he had once they'd had more time to know him, and throwing them together would work. It had for him, after all. Plus he needed a moment to calm himself down. He was a lot more sensitive to criticism of Bob the longer they spent together.
This time the archivist was accompanied by Morgan, who frowned at the woman when Harry got up from the decorative stone bench he'd been sitting on outside the door.
"There are no police here," he scowled, "What is going on?"
"What's going on is that your colleague there attempted to get me arrested by Lieutenant Murphy in an effort to put me in my place, after Murphy questioned her listening into a private conversation, about an hour ago," Harry frowned, putting two and two together rapidly, "And if it wouldn't freak the kids out, I'd send her away and request a professional, not a bigoted, power mad … person."
His tone made it clear that 'person' wasn't the word he'd been intending to use, and she flushed an ugly red. Morgan was looking decidedly pissed, which Harry welcomed frankly.
"You weren't supposed to be here until now," Morgan frowned, "I left a calling card to inform Wizard Dresden of your assigned appointment. Why were you here early? This is most irregular."
Harry was not best pleased to see her go from red to bone white in a flash.
"I suspect she's either trying to get me disqualified from taking the kids in, or herself disqualified from certifying it," Harry resisted the urge to swear, "So much for archivists being professional and unbiased. And it's my kids you're punishing, lady. Not me."
She actually shuddered at this, clearly believing that this would mean that she was now in mortal danger from the psychopathic Black magic addict that the Council believed him to be. Harry was too disgusted with her to be dismayed at what she thought. He had no intention of going after her, he wasn't stupid, but if she fretted on her own account, then that was fine by him.
"Honestly, Morgan, I'm starting to think that your whole little shebang is corrupt. You got a serious problem here, man. I mean, I can kind of see why people aren't offering their necks, or their loved ones necks, for the chopping block that is council justice, but if the archivists are also untrustworthy…" Harry shook his head and leaned more heavily on his cane, emphasising his injury and the circumstances that he'd barely survived.
"May I use your phone?" Morgan asked in a tone of biting courtesy, and Harry waved a hand at the front door, which swung open reluctantly. Morgan waved the archivist ahead of him, and Harry pointed out the hall phone, with its little table and chair. He stepped past them and went on to the library, sticking his head around the door. Bob was lecturing, covering the laws that would allow the children to be brought into the family line, and since even Sheryl looked interested, he didn't interrupt. Better that they think the archivist was late, than that there was a problem. He went back to the foyer, intending to lower himself onto the stairs to rest for a moment when Morgan and the archivist returned, and the front door swung open again, not quite slamming against the wall behind it.
Mai stood scowling on the front step, clearly having just arrived via a transportation spell, with what could only be described as a steel eyed grandmother standing beside her.
"Elder Franks!" the archivist gasped in dismay. Harry refrained from muttering 'busted by the boss' under his breath, though it was interesting that the archivist was more frightened of Franks than Mai.
"You will return with Ancient Mai," Franks barked, "I'll deal with you later. Enforcer Morgan, you are not required."
"Very well," Morgan sounded slightly cowed. Harry straightened when the Elder looked at him, and offered his most bland, polite smile.
"Welcome Elder Franks. Please come in," he said in his most neutral tone, and she glanced at Mai, who rolled her eyes.
"He's like that," Mai sighed, "I have better places to be. Dresden, don't fuck this up."
"Don't swear in my kids home, Mai," Harry replied, his tone turning from neutral to bland. Bob had said that it made Harry sound quite imposing, and the archivist clearly thought so as she scuttled for the door and around her boss as quickly as she could. Harry waited until Morgan and Mai had left the doorway, then waved the door closed and locked.
"We're in the library," Harry told her, "Do you want a coffee or anything?"
"No thank you," Franks replied calmly, "However, I appreciate the offer."
Harry decided to take her at her word, and led the way through the wide panelled halls. Bob broke off what he was saying when the archivist appeared in the doorway, leading the master of the house in. Harry had manners when he wanted them, and she seemed the kind of lady who adhered to the 'ladies first' kind of etiquette. Sheryl got up and offered her seat to the archivist, who Harry introduced.
He sat down in his seat and Bob came to stand at his shoulder, hands clasped in front of him. Franks looked around at the children, and nodded once, pulling forms and a pen from her jacket that hadn't been there a moment ago. She also pulled out a piece of chalk and inscribed a series of runes on the table, which she charged with a controlled burst of power.
"The circle is sealed. We are private," she announced, "We gather here today to finalise the adoption of five juveniles to the Dresden bloodline. Wizard Dresden, please give your full and proper Name."
Harry squirmed uncomfortably, but did so in a clear voice. Names meant power, and he would just have to trust that steel eyed grandma here wasn't about to pull anything nefarious. The kids wouldn't be able to, they hadn't the skill and the runes on the table would have obscured their hearing when he pronounced his Name.
"Are you here of your own free will, Wizard Dresden?" Franks asked, and Harry smiled at the kids, who looked anxious, as if he was about to throw them to the four winds.
"I am here entirely of my own free will, so I can welcome five children to my bloodline," he stated it clearly. Bob gave him a sharp look: they had discovered that Justin had planned to do this ritual with Harry on his twenty fifth birthday, making him a full Morningway. Harry had found the plans hidden in the wreckage of the desk months ago and burned them before Bob could do more than curse at the sky and air. Bob had explained the ritual and the wording, and Harry had absorbed more of it than his mentor had clearly thought.
"Miss Sharpe, as you have no magic of your own, and are not bound to Wizard Dresden's line by a recognised marriage or ceremony, you are unable to perform this ritual," Franks informed Sheryl kindly, "However, you may stay to witness it, if you wish to."
"I do," Sheryl nodded, smiling at Harry and Bob. They didn't need a ritual to be family, in the last four months that had been made more than clear. Scott had been sent, protesting bitterly, to school this morning, otherwise he'd have been here too.
"Very well," Franks acknowledged, looking at the glowing runes in front of her that showed Harry and Sheryl were telling the truth about wanting to be here.
"Your parents have already signed the documentation needed to finalise your removal from their family bloodline," Franks said it flatly, and Hannah's face crumbled into tears. The other three were not much better, though Pete had muttered 'good' under his breath.
"We will start with the youngest," Franks continued, her voice a shade warmer. Harry waved a hand and Pete came to stand beside him. The boy was shaking, but Harry thought it might be eagerness. This kind of adoption made the kids his in all the ways that mattered, forever, and Bob would have explained that thoroughly to them all. Of them all, Pete was the keenest to get away from the people who should have been his family. Franks took a drop of Pete's blood and put it on her parchment, then Harry added a drop of his own.
"And what do you Name him?" Franks asked. If Harry had been feeling spiteful, or vengeful he could have erased the children's former identities entirely by giving them all fully new Names. Doing that would upset the wider community though, and the children themselves. He didn't want to erase their identities, and he certainly didn't want to deal with the resentment and confusion of re-Naming them all without asking first. However, Pete didn't have a middle name, unlike the other children, so Harry made a spur of the moment decision to add his dad's name into the mix to help cement things for the boy. He could see Pete's original Name on the papers in front of the archivist, and the Names of all the children, which would help him get the other Names right too.
"Pete Malcolm Dresden-Bainbridge," Harry said and watched the words appear beside the blood spots. He frowned when Bainbridge failed to appear, and looked up at Franks, who was frowning at him. Bob had gasped in reaction, his hands flying to his mouth and Sheryl actually tried to steady the Ghost.
"Incorporeal beings are not permitted to adopt children into their bloodline, Wizard Dresden," Franks chided and Harry scowled.
"He raised me, and will help me raise them," Harry said flatly, "He deserves to give them his Name."
"Can I have it as an extra middle name?" Pete asked when the silence stretched uncomfortably, and Harry looked at the boy who was wrapping a hand around his wrist, the other hand going to rest on Bob's skull. Harry nodded, repeating the name without the hyphen and looked at the archivist, who muttered over the parchment to complete the spell. Pete Malcolm Bainbridge Dresden appeared, and Bob looked so gratified Harry thought he was about pass out with pride.
Harry signed where indicated, using his full Name and fixing the signature with a burst of his will. He pulled a small amulet from his pocket when he was done and fastened it around Pete's neck, as a traditional 'welcome to the family' gift. He'd inlaid it with protection spells when looking the jewellery over months ago. The boxes of trinkets from his uncles former study would be put to good use, and Harry took a kind of perverse pleasure in it, knowing that Justin would hate this with every fibre of his being.
Hannah looked at Bob for a moment when it was her turn, and then instructed Harry she wanted to have 'Roberta' added to her Name. Her hand rested on Harry's wrist and the other on Bob's skull as well as Harry recited her new Name. Al took Hrothbert as his new middle Name, and Mark landed on Bob. Julia looked at them for a long time, and then advised that she wanted Bobby added to her Name. Each of the children were given an amulet, prepared by Harry months ago when he'd decided that having some ready made protection laying around would be a good idea for certain clients. Sheryl wore a similarly spelled small amber piece around her wrist at his request, and Scott had also been given an amulet, which the Ravens had approved of.
Franks sealed the last of the documents, then dropped them into the second last rune. There was a flash of light and the last rune produced a stack of forms that looked very much like the sort of documentation that belonged in the mundane world. Franks started sorting documents into piles and Harry got up, offering hugs to each of the five children. He was glad that none of them flinched, not even Julia who had been keeping herself at a little remove from everyone since they'd first landed in the ballroom. Franks handed a set of documents to Harry, and spirited away her own set.
"Congratulations," she announced, and wiped the runes, deactivating them and removing them from the tables surface, "The circle is open. May your family prosper."
"Thank you Elder Franks," Harry grinned, "Let me walk you to the door."
"I got it, Harry," Sheryl said, "Why don't you and the kids go get lunch started?"
Harry turned and looked at Bob, who offered him the most tremulous smile Harry had ever seen and disappeared into his skull.
"He needs a moment," Harry scooped the skull up and put it into the satchel, "You five hungry?"
o0o0o