Daydreams and Disasters

Grand Theft Body - AKA Reading Can Be Deadly

He isn't afraid to admit that the book looks exceedingly creepy. The leather skull embossed in 3D on the cover seems to be watching him and the smooth blankness of the rest of the book's boards are reminiscent of obsidian. He doesn't really want to touch it, but he has to.

He knows his pathetic plastic gloves won't do jack squat against malignant magic, but he has to grab the cursed thing before the politician asleep in the other room decides to call on creatures she has no business glimpsing, let alone summoning.

Valerie Addicts really shouldn't have been bragging quite so loudly in the nearly deserted Senate hallway. Yes, he'd had to hop a few states to get to her home, but it was worth it if he stopped someone from unleashing who knows what onto their already stressed world. Valerie may have been pretty, in a severe and controlled way, but she was no Pandora.

Even if Hope did escape that tiny box. He didn't want to know what would escape this grimoire.

He reaches for it and freezes, hand inches from the cursed object, resting innocuously on the table, tossed carelessly between a stack of condo bills and torrid harlequins. Icy heat washes over him, the paradox of the sensation both familiar and unexpected.

"You know, harm can come from reading a book." His voice whispers in the dimness, inflection all wrong, accented in places his English never is. He groans internally, knows that she can hear it, and responds.

'How do you know, have you tried it yet?' Her huff of laughter slips past his lips and Ben remembers why he hates possession when she looks up, glancing at the bedazzled mirror placed in this cramped office.

Two figures stare back, his body and her spirit, overshadowing his mortal form. Nancy is dressed in the dark grey and violet that she adopts for stealth missions and she winks at him. It is a dizzying, disorienting experience, like zero gravity without the help of a tether. He wonders how it feels on her end, the change in balance and height, the will needed to control a body that isn't your own, even if he isn't fighting her control.

His relief at her presence bleeds through the two of them. One of them knows how to fix this and it isn't him. He knows she can sense his motivations, feels the relief from her end that he isn't here to use the demon book before them.

As if he was that much of an idiot. His affronted feelings are projected cleanly.

"You need to handle things like this more carefully," her whisper doesn't carry in the unnaturally still air around them. "Your gloves are useless. Look even your regular gloves would be better than these." She strips off the medical plastic with disdain, shoving the plastic into his belt. "Don't be so salty with me. I'm stopping you from becoming a soulless automaton for discount Cthulu."

His mental laughter is loud without the restraint he'd need in the physical world. He watches with as much care as he can when she snags a pen from the desk and sets to work drawing symbols on his palms. The symbols spiral up and across his wrists, ending somewhere amid his forearms, the silver spandex of his costume pushed up to his elbows.

How do you know how to do any of this?

"I asked Del Ray a long time ago. The Library isn't always haunted by pleasant spirits. Now hush, I need to concentrate." Being chastised in his own voice is only slightly frustrating. Does he really sound like that? It was like hearing your voice recorded, only a thousand times worse.

He refocuses as she picks up the book gingerly, turning to leave with it. He knows that there are limits to what she can do, that while possessed his body can only do what it normally does, not what hers can. So they will have to walk back through the rooms unless she releases him and makes the two of them intangible and invisible.

He can feel her fear of the book in their hands prickling through their shared mind, knows that she will take her chances with his body in the hope that when she does relinquish control they will be somewhere safe enough for her to deal with the item.

They traverse the dark rooms with care, slipping out of the house without incident and Ben feels Nancy breathe a sigh of relief, setting out at a light jog down the road before opening the throttle on his speed. Ben thinks it's cute, after all she's only using a fraction of what he's capable of.

Slowpoke.

He gets the mental impression of a tongue being stuck out at him before she speeds up. It's still slower than what he's used to but they are at the Library steps soon enough. He feels as his hands dig out the spare key he keeps in a hidden breast pocket. He's not even surprised that she knows it's there.

Like what you feel?

A snort. "Not even remotely. You are the worst. Next you'll be telling me you enjoy this."

And what if I did?

His laugh splits the chilly spring air as she fits the key in the lock and turns it. "Your feelings say otherwise. Can't say I blame you. I've heard it's not very comfortable and I really am sorry, but I couldn't have you setting the thing off. Once I get it in the ring, I'll let go, I promise."

His voice is still off and he is glad that she doesn't have to impersonate him on the phone.

She places the book in a carefully chalked out ring, far back in one of the Library's many rooms before gently closing the door and marking it with more chalk symbols.

"Thank you Del Ray. Now, I'll just get us upstairs and we'll split."

This is longer than usual. Will it hurt?

Even though his question is phrased as if to ask about pain to him, his concern makes it clear that the question was meant for her. He knows that she doesn't usually possess for long periods of time even though she can, that the longest she'd spent in his body was ten to fifteen minutes and they'd been together now for close to two hours. She sends back as much reassurance as she can as she speeds up the steps, slipping through the open the door to her apartment.

"No. We'll both be tired but it won't hurt." She settles gently onto her couch. "Here we go."

The world tips and he blacks out momentarily before finding that his body is his own again. Nancy groans and he turns to catch her as she slides, hands scrabbling at the faded floral print of her couch. He is tired, but no more than he usually would be after a night of work and he stands, settling her on the couch. It seems that most of the burden was on the possessor and not the possessee.

"Thanks," It is refreshing to hear the words in her voice instead of his, even if she does sound a little strained. " I got a warning from Arcana that something was up in Deseret and I tracked the magical signature there. I didn't know you were trying to handle it. You really shouldn't have."

He nods, knowing that the teenager had been leaning more towards the light lately. Reaching down he tries to make Nancy more comfortable as she slumps bonelessly on her couch, pulls her goggles free and looses her hair from the tight tie. "I know that now. I thought Valerie was kidding when I heard her. Too bad she wasn't." Nancy hums in understanding and thanks as her dark hair cascaded over the couch and Ben set her goggles on the nearby ottomon.

"We'll have to check to see if there's any lingering damage from her possession of the thing." Ben shudders at the thought of spending any further time with his harsh colleague and almost misses her next comment. "There's cake in the fridge. Consider it thanks for loaning me your body this evening." He huffs out a laugh at that. If she hadn't grand theft bodied him, he'd probably be insane right about now. In reality, he owed her. But, he would never say no to free cake and he had just crossed several state borders.

"We're even. Really." He grabbed the cake and set the kettle on.

"Awesome. I'm just gonna sleep now." She trailed off, breathing evening out from exhaustion. Ben snagged a blanket and settled it over her. She hadn't invited him to, but he'd stay the night.

Someone had to watch over her.