Fanfic Short Stories

The House in the Cerulean Sea: Fireplace Dance Party

Summary: In front of a cozy fire, Linus watches the flames dance. Wait, those flames look suspiciously like the children! What is Lucy up to now?

Linus Baker sat on a sofa next to Arthur Parnassus, in front of a cozy fire. While Arthur read a tome about the philosophy of Kant, Linus gazed into the fireplace, mesmerized by the flames.

"You know," said Linus after a minute, "I think being around the children has influenced my imagination. I've always enjoyed watching flames dance, but now I'm seeing the flames as actual people."

Arthur looked up from the book and observed the fire. "Oh my," he said.

The characters in the flames were dancing around a spit, to which another character was tied.

More and more, the dancers resembled the children, and the character on the spit had a round form that looked a bit like Linus.

Linus glanced away from the flames, facing Arthur. "I suppose it makes sense that Lucy would have an affinity for fire."

"Fortunately, I have a similar affinity," Arthur remarked. He focused on the flames, and the spit disappeared. Now Linus was standing with the children, and a tall form — much like Arthur — had joined the scene.

The Arthur figure bowed slightly and held out a hand to the Linus figure. Then they started to dance.

Linus noticed now that music was drifting into the room. Lucy was playing one of his records. This time it was Sinatra, crooning about being young at heart.

When the song ended, Lucy selected a different album, one with a rocking, bopping beat.

The adult characters melted into the flames, and now the children danced.

Then the actual children ran into the room.

"Cool!" said Talia. "It's just like you said." She emulated her character's dance.

"Dance party!" Lucy yelled, and then all of the children were hopping, gliding, or boogieing around the sofa.

Calliope did not dance. Such things were below the dignity of a cat. But she jumped onto the back of the sofa and watched.

To think, Linus told himself, a year ago I'd never even heard of any of these people.

"Perhaps my imagination is still limited," he admitted to Arthur. "Because I can't imagine not having you — all of you — in my life."

Arthur squeezed his hand. "I seem to have the same limitation."

A/N: For the Flufftober prompt: Fireplace