Chapter 7


Without skipping a beat, as soon as I opened the door to my apartment, Murphy had her gun drawn pointed at…


Murphy had her gun pointed at the Winchester brothers, specifically Dean Winchester.

"Whoa there," I stated, holding my hands up. "What's the problem here Murph?" It's not like Murphy to draw her guns on random civilians…


Random civilians my ass. The FBI, police, and demons wanted the Winchester's… every sort of suit and spook imaginable.

"Dresden, get behind me," Murphy ordered, still looking at Dean fiercely.

I didn't plan on doing that, in fact, I'm just the sort of guy who is stupid (or brave as I like to think) enough to step in front of the piece Murphy had aimed. "I don't think so Karrin. These are the guys helping me with the case, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to… how do the kids say it nowadays? Cap their asses? Please?"

Murphy rolled her eyes, "Well, Harry, do you even know you're housing a very wanted serial killer?"

"No," I answered quickly, then I changed my mind, "Okay, I do…"

Sam stared at me incredulously, crossing his arms across his chest.

I gave Murphy a small, innocent smile. "He's actually not a serial killer if that helps."

Murphy glared at me, but didn't move her weapon.

"Murph, please…" I pleaded.

Then she did something which doesn't happen everyday… in a flash, the gun went from it's position near my stomach (in line with Dean) to right… between… my eyes… I had widened my eyes at the action and consciously stepped down a step into my apartment. "Karrin, don't do something stupid," I said quietly.

"Really Dresden?" she barked. "Because how I see it, stupid is the only thing you seem to be good at. That, and getting yourself into trouble!" Her aim remained steady, and her voice became strangely calm and flat, "Harry Dresden, you are under arrest for the willing protection of wanted felons, aiding and abetting of… well gosh, several, counts of murder."

"Come on lady! Lower you gun!" I heard Dean yell behind me.

"Lieutenant Murphy, seriously, lets talk about this," I also heard Sam chime in.

Murphy, cold as ice, continued on, "You have the right to remain silent…"

I lowered my hands and looked at her blankly, gun still pointed at my temple.

"Anything you say can, and will, be used against you in a court of law…"

I became expressionless, as stoic as Murphy was.

"You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford one, which you probably don't, one will be provided for you…"

"Murphy, listen to me. Hear me out," I said earnestly, "As friends, allow me this. Please. Then you can arrest me, and use my witty remarks against me in court, and get me a lawyer because let's be honest here, I'm completely broke."

The blonde's stern scowl faltered, and she dropped her gun a few inches, of course, it was still in the general direction of my face. Which wasn't a problem, just a bit distracting.

"Look Murph, I know it seems, uhh, bad. But you've seen some pretty screwed up things in your life, and not all of them fall within the general sense of reason for normal people. The Winchesters are one of those things. What they're accused of? The things they supposedly did? Is it really too hard to believe that they didn't do those things?"

"I…" her voice cracked, "I believe what I see with my own eyes Dresden."

"But knowing what I am?" I asked. I shot my hand in the direction of the dark night outside, "And knowing what's out there? Those boys are like you Murph! They've seen those things! They've fought them! They're just like you!"

She blinked, and resumed the gun's spot at my temple. So that was the wrong thing to say apparently. "No Harry, I'm not a fugitive."

I dropped my hand uselessly to the side, and could hear Sam shuffling uneasily below. "You've got to believe me Murph…"

Murphy laughed, a cold sarcastic laugh that she was really good at, "Harry? Do remember back at the scene?"

I looked at her questioningly, waiting for her to continue. It's not like I had much of a choice really, what with the barrel of a gun pointed two inches from my forehead.

"I asked you to come look at something that had popped in my office the week before. It was a videotape Dresden. It had your friend here spouting off some crackpot story…"

"So you know that Harry's telling the truth!" Dean yelled. "All of that stuff I said!? They weren't lies! That's really who we are and what we do!"

Murphy went on uninterrupted, "Crackpot story which some FBI suit sent to me, leaving a note saying I was an expert in this brand of crazy! Because of the work I do with you, it turns out that I am now officially to go to person, not only for Chicago, but apparently the whole freaking country! I wanted you to take a look at it Dresden! Because…"

She dropped the gun.

"Because for a second I believed it. And if I tell this Hendrickson that, then…"

"Whatever that tape had on it... whatever Dean was saying?" I placed my hands on her shoulders firmly, "It's true, and we're dealing with a very nasty bad guy, controlling someone into these murders. So I'm working with the Winchesters for a while, but I work for you." I gave her a look of reassurance and added, "I promise I'll keep them on a tight leash."

"I'm keeping you on a tighter one," she replied.

For a second I thought I caught a slight smile tug on her lips, the kind of forgiving smile shared by elderly couples built of years of patience and love. But I knew better than that.

"… car Harry?" She asked brusquely, moment broken.

"Uhh," I stammer. "Car. Right. Just around the corner," I reply, motioning past her towards the street.

She holstered her gun, although making it more than obvious that it was readily accessible at a moments notice. "Okay then children. Field trip," she ordered. The blonde jerked her head to the street for Sam and Dean.

Dean's eye twitched at her, "Where are we going?"

"Does it matter?" she asked sharply, "Hurry up." Murphy stood about eight inches shorter than Dean, but she had all of us on edge, and made it abundantly clear who was in charge.

I sighed, "Where are we…?"

Murphy glared at me. Okay, so, still mad… awesome. "My place. And these two are coming with us."