Toil And Trouble - Dresden Files

[Zephyrus]

Toil and Trouble
A Zephyrus Production​

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There are lots of things I’m good at. Outwitting diabolically clever Sidhe. Issuing snappy one-liners even in the midst of heated combat. Hell, I’m even fairly good at playing the guitar (though some might say that’s not so much skill as it is a little help from a fallen angel).

But one thing I’m not good at? Potions.

Or more accurately, teaching my apprentice the exact art and subtle science that is potions making, to quote some ridiculously greasy caricature of a wizard I’d read of in a book once.

I was never a pro alchemist in the first place. I knew enough to make your basic concoctions without having them blow up in my face, but I needed Bob’s help with the more complicated stuff.

I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and shot the little bastard on his shelf a dirty look. It did little to quell his mirth, no doubt. Bob always did enjoy having fun at my expense, taking every chance to laugh at my misfortune. I had the sneaking suspicion that he was laughing at me this very moment.

I sighed loudly and tried to wipe as much of the pink soot from my face as I could with one hand.

“Hell’s bells, Molly. Are you trying your damndest to make my life miserable?”

My erstwhile apprentice of four years, Molly Carpenter, was staring at the melted beaker with a sullen look painted on her neon green features. All the colors of the rainbow, and some I’m pretty sure didn’t belong on the visible spectrum, covered her from head to foot with the fruits of her labors. The lab, the basement of my basement-apartment, was also covered in a light sheen of colored dust. Riotous colors drifted in the air, giving the impression of an acid trip gone wrong. Or possibly very right.

Molly uttered a curse she’d probably learned from me. “Yeah, Harry. I go out of my way to ruin all of these potions and make even more work for myself cleaning them up.” She wiped a bit of glowing green dust off her nose and grimaced.

I shook my head, and a cloud of pink dust rained off of my head. Coughing and waving my hand, I growled, “You might be cleaning them up, but guess who pays for all of the ingredients you use? Stuff like chameleon skin isn’t exactly easy and cheap to come by, you know. I’m taking this out of your wages.”

She turns and raises a pink eyebrow at me, hands on her hips. “You mean the wages that you never pay me to do all of your dirty work? Those wages?”

“Yeah. Those wages. And don’t think that you can talk your way out of it, grasshopper!”

Molly rolled her eyes at me, but I caught the grin on her face. She might be a terror in the lab, but the girl more than makes up for it in the other aspects of her training. Molly is shaping up to be a fine Wizard, even if her skills at potions making are less than stellar. Though truth be told, she’s ruined far fewer potions than I did during my own apprenticeship.

Shaking her head, she walked over to the coat rack and took off her heavy flannel robe, hanging it neatly on the hook next to a spare of mine. Though it was the height of summer, my laboratory still harbored a light chill. A cloud of purple dust flew into her face and she had a coughing fit. She paused at the foot of the step ladder that lead to my humble abode on the floor above, looking back over her shoulder at me. Despite the cold, she wore a pair of tight shorts and a halter top that exposed a little too much skin for my liking. I studiously ignored the way the shorts tightened over her bottom as she rested a foot on the bottom step.

“I take it that since we’re not dead that getting a mouthful of this stuff won’t kill us.”

“Probably not. But if you start coughing up bloody chunks of your lungs, I suggest you get a little concerned.” I reply cheerfully, surveying the extent of the damage.

Molly rolled her eyes once again. “I’ll keep an eye out. Let me run and grab the dustpan and we can start cleaning up.” She started up the stairs and I couldn’t help but admire the play of the soft light against the skin of her lithe legs. Just because I’d known her since she was a kid and she was my apprentice doesn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate how beautiful she was.

“What’s this ‘we’ stuff you’re talking about, kid? I’m not the apprentice here!”

A middle finger was her reply before she disappeared to the floor above.

“Man, oh man. That girl’s looking good today, Harry.” Bob’s eyes flickered merrily in his eye sockets; a soft orange giving the skull the illusion of life.

“Mind out of the gutter, Bob.” I moved to the table and gingerly picked up the remains of the beaker. I studied it with a critical eye before lobbing it in the trash bin a few feet away. Though it was 30 gallons, it was already full to the brim and had to be emptied bi-weekly. Such is the price one must pay for the education of particularly dim apprentices. “I honestly didn’t think that she’d mess up something as elementary as a Camouflage Elixir.”

“This coming from the guy who once screwed up a vermin repellent?”

I winced at that. I still had nightmares about that particular misadventure in potions experimenting and still checked my underwear drawer religiously. Thank God Mister, my housecat who I was sure had more than a bit of mountain lion in him, had arrived in time to prevent any more of my disastrous forays into pest control.

“Point taken.” I eyed the ingredients lined up on the table. Say what you will about Molly, but she’s far more neat and organized than I’ll ever be. Everything was perfectly arranged; in the order in which the items had to be added to the potion. I tried to puzzle out where she’d gone wrong. Usually it was just some small mistake that caused her to botch the whole thing.

“If you’re trying to figure it out, don’t bother.” There was a note of glee in Bob’s voice that I didn’t quite catch on to for a few moments as I pored over the worktable.

Yes, there was the remaining sliver of camera lens and the chameleon’s skin. Dragonfly wings and a small pile of clear marbles. Wait, what did---

I turned slowly to face the eternally grinning skull, a scowl on my face. “Bob,” I said in a soft voice, “what did you do?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly do anything.” Mischievousness bled outrageously thick from his voice. “I think that I might have, sort of, maybe, mixed up the list of ingredients I gave you.”

Bob was my repository of information. What I couldn’t remember, he remembered for me. It was hard to keep all of the little details straight and I relied on him to keep me from making mistakes that could very well cost me my life. He and I knew damn well that it was impossible for him, a spirit of logic and intellect, to mistakenly give me the wrong directions or ingredients. It simply wasn’t in his nature.

I clenched my hand and felt the creak of aging wood in my palm. I looked down and was only slightly surprised to see that a pestle had magically appeared nestled in my hand. Good. Now I wouldn’t have to search for a weapon heavy enough to smash the bastard’s skull in. I took a few steps in his direction and the look on my face must have been murderous because Bob began speaking in a fast, squeaky voice of worry.

“Come on, Harry, it wasn’t my fault! It’s just that it’s been so long since I’ve got some action and there’s only so many romance novels one can read and Molly was here and you were here so I just--”

“What. The. Fuck. Did. You. Do?” I bit off each word as if I were biting off chunks of Lincoln’s nose on Mt. Rushmore. The pestle twitched threateningly for good measure. Screw having a handy reference guide for all of your informational needs. An old-fashioned library full of books was looking mighty attractive right now.

“I tweaked the potion--JUST A LITTLE BIT!” He yelled in a high pitched voice as my hand threatened to come down on his bony ass or rather, the lack of it.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure that I heard you right. Did you just say that you DELIBERATELY RIGGED a delicate potion to EXPLODE in the face of MY apprentice and myself!?” Hoo boy, I was angry. Angrier than I’d been with Bob in a long time. Bob knows full well how dangerous making even the simplest of brews can be. Apprentices and masters alike have been maimed or died due to the tiniest, most infinitesimal mistake made in the brewing process. “Do you have any idea how fucking DANGEROUS that is!?”

“Of course I do, Harry!” Even in the face of righteous wrath personified, Bob still managed to pull off a mournfully dignified air, as if he couldn’t believe I was even questioning his competence. You better start talking fast, Bob. “I would never do anything to put yourself or that lovely young lady in jeopardy. I would never even dream it! I’ll have you know I took great pains in making sure that the modifications wouldn’t cause you or dearest Molly to suffer any lasting harm.”

Grudgingly, I lowered the pestle to my side. It seems that Bob had escaped oblivion. For now, at least. I guess I had overreacted a touch. Even though Bob can be a little mischievous at times, he’s not malicious in any way. When it comes to the safety of my cute little apprentice, I can get a little overzealous. Wait a sec. Did he just say--?

“Lasting harm, Bob?” My reply was understandably rather sharp. Sometimes I wonder if Bob doesn’t quite understand what constitutes as lasting harm to a mortal, at least when it comes to more subtle effects. “Do explain. I’d hate to have to grind an explanation out of your skull.”

Bob’s voice immediately shifted into Lecture Mode, losing all semblance of playfulness and humanity. “The Camouflage Potion is a Class E potion, designated for the use of beginner alchemists to brewers with moderate experience. One of the most prized virtues of this potion is that it is highly versatile and adaptable. An expert brewer, with the basic ingredients of the potion and some custom modifications, can brew potions for specific purposes, I.e., the tundra, urban landscapes, and desert landscapes.” Bob paused and I got the strange feeling that he was turning a mental page in that brain of his. “In the hands of a master brewer, the potion can be used not only to disguise himself cunningly in any landscape, but it can also be used to reveal the existence of any items or persons hidden from sight. It is rumored that it has yet even more unexplored properties, but nothing has been substantiated.”

The dull droning of Bob’s voice had leeched the remnants of my anger from me, though I was still highly annoyed with him. Lucky for Bob that’s he’s so goddamn boring when he’s like that.

“I already knew that much, Bob.” I carelessly tossed the pestle on the table behind me and it clattered noisily against the wooden surface. “Why do you think I chose that potion for Molly in the first place? It’s a basic potion but it’s got varying degrees of difficulty. Easy enough for someone with a decent amount of experience.”

“Precisely.” Bob was practically radiating smug satisfaction. He seemed to have a short term memory problem. Wasn’t it just moments ago that I was threatening to crush his skill into a fine powder?

“Please, o great and wise one.” I deadpanned. “This unworthy one wishes to know what the hell you’re talking about.

“I mentioned that the potion is rumored to have several more undiscovered properties. Nothing has been verified, but I recall reading a treatise by Wulfric in the 1940s that he’d made some fascinating discoveries concerning the mental applications of the potion.”

I made a weary, hurrying motion with my hand. “The point, if you please, Bob?”

“Wulfric claimed that he’d uncovered a way to manipulate the mind with this potion. Uncover dormant memories, block unpleasant memories. That sort of thing. Very intriguing stuff. He also alluded to doing some work with emotions. Apparently, all one had to do was assemble ingredients that reflected the emotion one wished to affect in the subject and a bit of one’s self to act as a catalyst.”

“Yes well, that’s all very interesting, Bob. But we were working on the basic potion. Nothing fancy. Nothing even remotely near what you’re talking about.” I was about ready to dismiss this whole thing as a harmless prank. Really, this was getting a little absurd. Bob must have been bored out of his skull to come up with this. No pun intended.

Bob gave a long-suffering sigh. “How was I burdened with such an unobservant master? Of course, it works in my favor from time to time...just take a look at the ingredients. Really look at them.”

I roll my eyes and turn to the table. And I thought I was overly fond of dramatics.

I scanned the table once more, taking stock of what little remained of my ingredients. Yes, camera lens, the dragonfly wings, the pile of clear marbles, and the pivotal ingredient, the chameleon skin. What was so special about this stuff?

I frowned. I scratched my head. Seconds passed. I opened my mouth, and then closed it. Open--nope, closed it. I turned around and shrugged sheepishly at Bob. “Clue me in, maestro.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Bob’s voice was deeply disappointed. Hey, I never claimed to be a great whiz in the potions department. “They’re all transparent, Harry. Transparent!”

If Bob expected that revelation to knock my socks off, I hope he wasn’t too miffed. My socks stayed firmly on my feet. “Yeaaaaaaaaaah.” I drawled. “Considering that we were, yanno, focusing on camouflage, transparency would be a pretty good thing, don’t you think?”

“What were we just talking about a few moments ago?”

“Your impending unemployment?”

“Wulfric’s studies, Harry! The ingredients have to have a common bond in order for them to successfully perform beyond their basic intended use!” Bob’s voice turned sly instantaneously. “I’ve seen how your precious little apprentice looks at you when you’re not looking, Harry.”

This sudden change of topic had me on guard and my figurative hackles were up once he mentioned Molly.

“Don’t go there, Bob.” I said, a warning note in my voice.

“Are you telling me that you don’t even have an inkling of what Madam Carpenter feels for you?” Bob’s eyes flickered mirthfully. “You’ve saved her more times than the both of you probably care to count. You’re her knight in shining armor, her wise teacher, the man who rescued her from the clutches of the White Council. You mean more to her than almost any other person on this earth.”

I grunted noncommittally, intensely uncomfortable with Bob’s assessment of Molly’s mindset. “I’m her master and she’s my apprentice. Our relationship is that of student and teacher. Nothing more.”

Even though my mouth was uttering the words that I believed to be true, my traitorous memory flashed back to the night when I officially made Molly Carpenter my apprentice. She had offered herself to me mind, body, and soul.

Of course, it only took me a split-second to put that young grasshopper in her proper place. The only proper relationship between that of master and apprentice is a working one.

But…in that split second before I did the right thing, a small part of me wondered what it would be like to be in that kind of relationship with my student. It was nonsense, of course. Though wizards are rather close mouthed about their ages, I was certainly far too old for a young girl just barely into the home stretch of her childhood. That was the case then, at least.

But now, Molly was the perfect specimen of a young woman in bloom, a beautiful, alluring, sexy bombshell of a woman with a nice ass in bloom.

I sharply shook my head. What the hell? Why was I thinking of Molly like that? She’s still just a kid for God’s sake. Not to mention that Molly’s mother, Charity, would be more than glad to saw off my balls with a rusty knife and feed them to me if she even suspected I harbored those kinds of thoughts about her child.

“Student and teacher.” I repeated, somewhat disturbed by my train of thought.

Bob cackled gleefully, a sound that made me grit my teeth in annoyance. “Your words don’t seem to be a reflection your thought processes, Harry. You really blanked out there for a second. I think I even see a bit of drool on your chin!”

I caught myself raising a hand to check the corners of my mouth before I realized what I was doing.

“It seems that the potion was a success.”

My hands were clenched into fists so tight that my finger-bones began to crackle and pop like a bowl of Rice Krispies. “Bob, if you don’t stop being all mysterious, I am seriously going to put you in a safe with some cement blocks and drop it in the middle of the fucking Chicago river.”

“Good grief, Harry. You’d think you’d have figured it out by now. I altered the ingredients of the potion to make transparent your true thoughts about your young apprentice.” Bob chuckled. “There was a small chance that you weren’t lying through your teeth about being at least slightly attracted to Molly, but I’ve known you for a very long time, Harry. You can’t lie to me.”

A sliver of horror thrilled through my body. “That’s 100% pure bullshit, Bob. Didn’t you say yourself that only a master can make the potion work like that?” I was getting desperate to poke any kind of hole in this horrible prank Bob played on me. Because it seems like it’s starting to work on me. Thoughts of Molly that were most impure and far beyond the occasional PG-13 scene I’d envisioned were starting to trickle through my mind. It was like my mental Hoover dam had finally broke and a rush of images of Molly in various states of undress were flooding before my eyes.
“There were only five ingredients, Harry. As far as difficulty levels go, this one was relatively easy compared to some of the other alterations I considered. Not to mention that I would need a bit of her pubic hair if I were going to attempt the lust variation…”

I cradled my face in one hand and whimpered. It was the kind of sound that would make you want to take me out back and put me out of my misery. “How long are the effects supposed to last?”

“Who knows?” I’m sure if Bob had shoulders, he would have shrugged them in an infuriatingly nonchalant manner. “I’m in uncharted territory here. It could last the standard 48 hours or it could last days.”

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Ok, that’s it. I need to get my tasty little grasshopper out of here and keep her away from me for at least a week before I do something that I and my balls will regret. I have great faith in my willpower but there’s a saying that I take great stock in: Men tend to think with the brain below their waist and not the one above their neck.

I whirled on my heels and made a mad dash for the step ladder.

“You’d better bring her back down here! I expected a show!”

A middle finger was my reply as I clambered gracelessly up the steps. I was nearly to the door that led to my apartment when it opened and I was treated to the delectable sight of two very slender, sleek legs that looked as if they could go on forever. My mouth went dry as my eyes went from dainty ankle to firm thigh to curvy waist to budding bosom to cornflower blue eyes.

“Whatcha looking at, Harry?” There was a small smile on Molly’s lips as she practically purred my name.

It then occurred to me that Molly had also inhaled a mouthful of that dusty potion and Bob seemed to be quite sure about Molly’s feelings for me. If she had been keeping a lid on them for all of these years…

I swallowed audibly.

 

[Zephyrus]

A moment passed as I frantically tried to establish some sort of control over my reaction to the vision of utter loveliness that had been presented before me.

Come on, Dresden. You’re not going to let yourself be ruled by your dick, are you?

I shook my head slightly. No way am I going to sully my little grasshopper and put my balls within Charity’s reach. I’m going to man up, do the right thing, and send her home.

Taking a deep breath, I summoned all of my wit and charm, determined not to let Molly know just what kind of turn my thoughts had taken.

“N-nothing.”

I heard a muffled snort of laughter from the lab and began to mentally catalogue how many books my study could hold. Molly merely raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly. Damn that impudent girl!

I cleared my throat. “I mean, I see that my empty-headed student has returned with nothing. In her hands. To clean with.” I was mentally beating my head against a brick wall, hoping that I could somehow induce myself to catatonia so I could be spared from this pathetic display of spinelessness and stupidity.

I cleared my throat again, as if I could make myself sound like less of an idiot than I had already made myself out to be. I made an upward gesturing motion, muttering, “I need to get a broom. And a dustpan. For dusting. I mean, sweeping. Yeah.”

Highly amused, Molly wordlessly (thank the gods) turned and began to slowly ascend up the steps. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I saw the fabric of her shorts slide sensuously across her skin and hugged curves that made my mouth go dry.

I swallowed noisily and made myself look down at my feet as I climbed the ladder. When I reached the top, I slammed the door. I felt childishly satisfied. Bob hates it when I slam the door, said it vibrates his shelf something awful. Serves the bastard right, if you ask me.

I squared my shoulders and turned to face Molly. I forced a nonchalant smile and made myself focus squarely on her face.

Damn, those lips look soft. And pouty. Just right for kiss—

I did the mental equivalent of slamming on the brakes. Stick to the plan, Dresden!

“You know what? Don’t even worry about cleaning up the mess. You look dirty–”

ohgodsdeliciouslydirtywaitmustnotthinkaboutdirtyMo lly

–I stammered for a moment, faltering and losing my train of thought, but recovering and plunging ahead bravely. Hmm. Plunging…

“–and it’s been a long day so maybe you oughta go home and take a shower.”

I so deserve a pat on the back for not voicing aloud my immediate thought of us sharing a shower. And for not sounding like even more of lust-stricken teenager, for that matter.

I folded my arms arms across my chest in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner and waited for her to get the hell out of my apartment. It was not to be.

My wretched apprentice was obviously pleased that she had managed to fluster me with a few well aimed looks and words. She most certainly was not going to give up what little ground she’d managed to take. I’d taught her to press the attack wherever possible and damn her cute little smile, that’s exactly what she did.

Her nose wrinkled in an obscenely cute manner. “Are you really going to make me go home like this, Harry? I’ll get this stuff everywhere.” Slipping past me before I could even think to stop her, she made her way down the hallway to the bathroom, which just so happened to be right in my bedroom.

She looked over her shoulder as she paused at my door, grinning impishly. “I think I’ll just take a shower here, ok? Ok.” She disappeared into the room and the door didn’t quite latch behind her, no doubt intended as an open invitation to join her.

I stood there, shell shocked for a few moments. After wrenching my thoughts away from the dangerously arousing image of hot water coursing down Molly’s body, I darted into the living room and dived for the old rotary phone. It’s the only piece of technology old enough that didn’t die or fizzle into nothingness whenever I used it.

Well, not too often at least. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get these things replaced. They’re practically antiques.

My shaking fingers quickly dialed the only number of the person that I thought could help me out of this mess.

After a few rings a voice answered, gruff and annoyed. Lucky for me, I’m immune to general assholery and grouchy people, probably because I can be a pretty grouchy asshole from time to time, myself.

“It’s me. There’s trouble. I need you over at my place pronto!”

A skeptical inquiry.

“What kind of trouble?” I hesitated a moment, nervously transferring the phone from one ear to another. “Uhh…well, I can’t really say over the phone.” No way would I get any help if I said that I was in danger of sleeping with a hot teenage girl.

A response toned with suspicion.

“Oh, come on. When have I ever asked you for anything?”

A beat of silence over the line, punctuated by crackles of static.

“You know what, Murphy? Don’t even answer that. JUST GET OVER HERE!”

I slammed the phone down in its cradle and collapsed onto an armchair, cruising for what was sure to be my first and only nervous breakdown of my life.

 

[Vikraal]

Dresden called Murphy over!. Murphy!. What was he thinking.

Well Its going to fun fun fun. You know this potion might compel him to release lasciel, who knows what lash left inside the dark recesses of his mind.