Beginnings at Bobby's
“You know what I’m gonna say.”
“Yeah, yeah, standard tests. My earring’s good for the silver?”
“Am I standing next to ya?”
“Yeah, ‘bout what I expected. Toss the knife.”
Catching the knife Booby had thrown their way, Harry showed his palm as he sliced into the skin, showing his unblemished hand, and completely normal blood. Casting a quick cleaning charm, Harry passed the blade to Blaise who quickly repeated the action.
“I’d prefer the shot glass to the splash in the face for the holy water, Bobby.” Harry said, throwing the blade back after healing his and Blaise’s hand.
“Come on in.” Bobby said, gesturing at the door with his shotgun.
When they entered the house, Bobby immediately directed them to the kitchen, where he pulled out two shot glasses, which he filled from a flask, pushing them forward.
“Blegh, why does holy water taste super-distilled?” Harry asked, after knocking back the shot glass.
“Mine tasted sweet.” Blaise commented.
“Right, who’s the stow away? Why’re you in Sioux Falls during fall? You were only meant to get here during the summer.”
“The ‘stow away’ is my boyfriend-“ Harry began before Bobby snorted. “What?”
“Just surprised ya found someone who’d put up with ya nerdy, idjit self.”
“Hey! The nerdiness is part of my charisma!” Harry objected. “Anyway, we’re kinda fugitives in Magical Britain.”
“What’d ya do?”
“Killed a government official.”
“They deserve it?”
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”
“Good. Now, you two gonna be stayin’, or heading on the road?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind putting us up for a day or two. Ya know, what with the time zone difference.”
“I ain’t expectin’ anyone, so ya can stay in the guest rooms. Don’t think that means you’ll get to slack around though!”
“Thanks Bobby. Also, you know me, d’ya really think I’d be slacking around?”
“’Course not. Beside that info service you’re runnin’ you mind adding some of your fancy dandy protections to the panic room?”
“Yeah, should be easy enough. Blaise could help with the phones? If you’re okay with that darl’?”
“The ultimate decision lays with Mr. Singer, but it seems reasonable.”
“Nunna that ‘Mr. Singer’ crap. It’s Bobby. Now, you able to use a phone?”
“Of course.” Blaise answered, looking affronted at the mere question.
“Right. A coroner calls you. Asks if the two agents he just saw are FBI, why they’re involved in small town murders and if you’re their senior. What do you say?”
“Confirm my supposed identity and those of the Hunters first. As to the concern, ‘Unfortunately, I am unable to disclose that information at present, but if you have any information you think may be relevant please contact this number so I can pass it on.’”
“Not bad. Bit unrefined, but I can work with it. Now go sleep! You idjits look dead on ya feet.”
As he and Blaise collapsed on the bed in one of the guest rooms, after having gotten ready to sleep, Harry spoke aloud.
“Darl’ does it make me a bad person to be glad I’m finally out of the UK?”
“I wouldn’t think so. Why?”
“It’s just… there are still people I care about there. And they’re kinda stuck there, for one reason or another. But it’s just so… relieving, not having to worry about…” Harry said, rubbing his hand across Blaise’s arm.
“Everything? The government becoming dictatorial? The fascist terrorist?”
“Yeah.”
“Harry, love, if that makes you a bad person, then everyone we’re friends with would be a bad person. It just means you’re human.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, darl’. G’night.”
“Goodnight.”
The two days they spent at Bobby’s were rather enjoyable if Harry was honest. Beyond the regular wards that Harry had learned, he also used a few Enochian glyphs that Gabriel had taught him when he had given him a guide to learning the language. With that done, he mostly helped around the house as well as duplicated Bobby’s books for himself, in exchange for giving him a duplicate of all of his books.
When he wasn’t busy with housework or magic, he was busy sending off orders as well as tinkering with the blog and forum parts of his website, when a user ID piqued his interest
OI(Moderator): @PsychicSammy – Hey, you Sam Winchester?
PsychicSammy: Yeah, why?
OI(Moderator): Message? It’s about a previous order.
Harry immediately sent Sam a private message, tabbing over to the inbox section, and clicking on the message.
PS: I’ve never ordered info from you.
OI: Your dad did though. Was wondering how it went. I usually get feedback from my customers.
PS: Oh. It worked. You should update your Hunter list though.
OI: Good to hear, but why?
PS: Things went south. He died
OI: Damn. Uh, sorry for your loss, I guess.
Closing his laptop, Harry looked up, seeing Blaise was looking thirsty.
“Hey darl’, you want me to take the next call? Ya looking a lil’ thirsty.”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
Eventually, the brief period of respite that was adjusting to American time zones came to an end, with Blaise and Harry standing in the scrapyard, just about ready to head out.
“Thanks for letting us stay, Bobby.”
“Well, ya helped ‘round the house. Where ya headed?”
“Caught word of some kids suddenly getting sick outta nowhere, and just the kids, up in Urbana so we’re headed to Ohio.”