A Case of Fury

Chapter 10

The table shook as Case balanced on its edge, both his hands raised above his head as they maneuvered to remove a fused bulb from its holder. The screws that held the holder to the wall were loose, the bulb was stuck, and Case wasn't tall enough for the entire process to go smoothly. The fact that Fury was lying spread-eagle atop scattered toffee wrappers over Marshall's bed didn't help either.

Fury is going to ruin that bed. Was nothing sacred to him? Why isn't the bulb coming out? I need a toffee.

"What are you even trying to do?" Fury asked from below. He lifted an unwrapped toffee into the air above his face, then he let it fall vertically into his open mouth. He must have aimed it a little too well, because he choked and sat upright. "Human body is unpleasantly preposterous,"coughed Fury, spitting out the toffee onto the floor. He dropped his head back over the pillow, white hair splashing all over it. "What was I saying again? Right. I was asking: do you even know what you're doing? Are you trying to swallow that bulb with your hand? Like a squid trying to swallow a bulb?"

The metal part of the bulb screeched inside the holder as Case twisted it harder than he intended to. He narrowed his eyes at Fury. Where did he get such an absurd imagination from?

"Did you cause this?" Case pointed a long finger at the bulb.

Fury snorted. "As if. What do I stand to gain from tampering with electric circuits? Especially when it's too easy for you to replace the bulb."

"Don't expect me to fathom how the mind of an evil, geriatric creature works."

"Hey, are you calling me a geezer?" asked Fury sounding affronted. He adjusted the pillow against the side of his face, squashing it out of shape. "If it's because of my hair it's unfairly stereotypical of you. All the hair that is white does not belong to men of—"

"I get it. Shut up."

"You were the one who started it."

"No it was you."

Fury sat up again, the pillow bowed over his head. His eyes sparkled. "You want a fight?"

Case huffed out of exasperation. Fury never let him have a moment of peace. He refocused on the bulb. "If the bulb doesn't come out this time I'm going to make you clean up all the junk in this street."

He pressed the bulb and turned it, this time not entirely wanting it to come free. It looked like the bulb was going to stay in its place when the table lurched away from beneath his feet. Case overbalanced and fell forward, his weight bringing down the bulb with him. His knees banged hard against the cold floor.

"Guess there's no need for me to go junk-picking now," observed Fury from where he sat hugging his pillow to his head.

Case glowered at him. "You pulled the table back."

"No it was the ghost of Christmas Past, Mr Obvious."

"You shouldn't be able to do that," Case said, getting to his feet. He put down the bulb in his hand carefully on the table. He was lucky the glass hadn't broken and cut his hand during the fall. "The pact you made with me forbids you from hurting me."

"You're not hurt. Are you really going to whine just because you fell a couple of centimeters to the floor?"

"It was more than half a meter!"

Fury looked at him sardonically. "I was under the impression humans measured that length in centimeters, whiner."

Case folded his hands defiantly. "Then what about the day you fought me? The day I found out that—that David Gordimer was—"