Femme Fatale

by PaBurke

*** Summary *** Murphy's no longer the 'newbie' in SI. Ironically, the green recruit has the most experience out of them all.

*** Spoilers *** Season 7 BtVS, Proven Guilty- book eight of the Dresden books.

*** Disclaimer *** I'm playing with someone else's toys. No Copyright infringement intended. No money made. Hopefully everyone will treat this like a plug for Jim Butcher's Dresden Files. Very much worth reading, buying, or in our case-gifting.

*** Warning *** None, little language.

*** Author's Note *** With what we know about the books, my beta and I were disappointed that the casting for the SciFi series did not match the books. So which actress is small, blonde, has an attitude and should have been picked for Murphy? Well, duh! SMG. But if Jim Butcher's pleased with the TV Series, we'll give it a shot. The possibilities for crossovers are just IFun/I.


"Who are you?" The uniformed blonde facing me was smaller than Murphy and Murphy had been the smallest woman in the Chicago PD, let alone Special Investigations. The cop's hands were on her hips. She looked more annoyed than worried about the man towering over her in a black duster, namely me. I thought about brushing my way past her, but the steel in her hazel eyes stopped me cold. She was tiny, not an ounce of fat from the tip of her hat to the tapping toe. It was only muscle, lean and toned. This was one capable cop. I wouldn't underestimate her. She made an impatient grunt. So much for staying off her bad side.

Oh, yeah. She had asked me a question. I offered her my best smile. "Harry Dresden."

Not a flicker of recognition. That could be good. Maybe the other cops hadn't warned her about the kook of a detective who was in the phone book as a Wizard. I like being up front about these things.

So did the new cop. "What makes you think that anyone's going to let you get passed the yellow tape?"

"Is Murphy here?" Had she been part of SI long enough to be introduce to the few females?

"Murphy doesn't mix business with pleasure," Blondie said. "Call her after hours."

Oh, yeah, she knew Murphy. "It's business," I confided.

"Dresden," the woman of the hour spoke and she jogged to Blondie's side. "Did Stallings wise up and call you?"


"Than why are you here, Harry?" Murphy looked tired.

I glanced at Blondie who didn't hide the fact that she was eavesdropping. Murphy took the hint, but not the way I had assumed she would. "Harry, this is Officer Buffy Summers. Summers, this is Harry Dresden."

"He told me that already," Summers said. I had to think of her as Summers, I would never keep a straight face if I called her 'Buffy.' She did look like she could be a California cheerleader –the kick-ass type of cheerleader.

"He's a Wizard," Murphy added. I blinked. While I get a kick out of saying that to the uninformed, Murphy normally never mentioned it.

I watched Summers for her reaction. She nodded, as if it all made sense. I'm glad someone was getting informed, because I was getting confused.

"That explains the power," Summers commented. Her eyes speared mine. "White hat or black?"

Soul gaze. I had been tricked into a few in my time, and each time was a new experience. This time was different from every other on a new level.

I saw a desert, hot and supernaturally bright. I squinted. An African woman in rags and white paint stood before me. She was a hunter, armed with a wooden stake and a wooden spear. "You may not pass," she told me. I saw Summers standing behind the African, smirking at my problem. The African struck me with the stake and I fell to my knees.

Hell's bells, that hurt. The next thing I knew, Murphy was on one side of me and Summers was on the other, they were trying to get me back on my feet. The soul gaze was over and I had learned nothing. I regained control over my limbs and stood. My gloved hand automatically felt my chest. It hurt but everything was intact.

"You good?" Summers asked.

I nodded, very wary of the situation. I couldn't name too many things that had protection against an active soul gaze and all them were too big and bad to be part of Chicago's Finest.

"Why are you here?" Murphy asked me again.

It took me a minute to get my mind off the current problem standing before me and the problem that had occurred early this morning. "When this thing…" I motioned to the building that was swarming with cops, "happened there was a power wave that woke every sleeping attuned person in the city. I tracked it here."

"Damn annoying," Summers muttered. I wasn't surprised any more that she ranked among those attuned to the supernatural.

Murphy looked a little scared. I wondered if it had interrupted her rest as well; I hoped not. "Do you know what did it?"

"Murphy," I growled at my friend. "I haven't gotten inside to see what 'it' is yet so that I can find what it did."

"Pretty standard ritual," Summers piped up. "Three victims. One age three Caucasian boy, one age thirty African American female, and the last one ninety year old male of Orient ancestry. Driver license for the Middle-Ager says today's her birthday, I'd put money that it was everyone's special day. No sexual defilement. All three were restrained magically, no bruises on anyone of them. They were all alive and awake when the special knife ended it. They were all anointed with oil and the power is still residual around the oldest. No writing anywhere, but the air buzzes with evil and fire. I think they wrote fire in the air. And no, we can't let you into the building. You're number one on Stallings suspect list."

Murphy and I stared at the concise and magically-informative summary. She was good. She had done this before, to someone who needed all the hints to find 'who-done-it.' I would quote her to Bob and see what he had to say about it. I wondered if I could do better actually seeing or Seeing the crime scene for myself.

"She's right," Murphy finally said. "You are number one on Stallings short list. You better leave before anyone else sees you."

"Okay," I agreed. I started to walk away and then I stopped. "Summers?"

Murphy and Summers were walking away, Summers walking backwards so that she could see my face.

"What are you?"

She smiled and blew me a kiss. "The Boogey-Woman."


"Bob. Bob!" I knocked on the human skull in my cellar workshop. "Wake up; I need help."

"You need a life," the skull muttered. The wind spirit trapped within was slightly disgruntled.

I tried to pipe his interest. "What kinds of things can interrupt a soul gaze in progress without reveling anything?"

"Nothing," Bob was sure of his answer.

"Your 'Nothing' just happened thirty minutes ago."

Bob's orange glow brightened. "Really?"

"Really-really. The new SI cop tricked me into a soul gaze. And there was a different woman in her head that kicked me out."

"Hmmm," Bob thought about it. "What can you tell me about what you did see?"

"The new cop stood behind the protector. She's white and tiny and blonde.."

"Pretty?" Bob asked brightly.

"Very and lethal, would be my guess. She's barefoot and wearing a long white dress. And in front of her, the protector is another female. This one African and dressed in white rags and paint."


"With a spear and a stake, both wooden. She used the stake on me. Right in the chest like I was a Black Court vampire."

Bob swore a language I didn't know. I waited for him to wind down and start speaking English. "Wow! I had heard that death didn't take for her, what would Buffy Summers be doing in Chicago and as a cop? Harry, you've got to let me out so that I can find out. I heard she's hot and she'll have a gun."

I wasn't about to agree to any such thing. "Whoa, wait a minute. Buffy's really her name?"

"You knew her name and didn't tell me?" Bob shot back.

"I didn't think it could possibly be the real thing."

"It the real thing alright, but it won't do you or any other summoner any good."

"She can be summoned?"

"No, she can't be summoned or commanded with the normal magicks."

Okay, that was interesting, I just didn't know how right now. "Bob, what is she?"

"You don't know!"

I thought through all the clues I had. I had no idea, but I had to make a guess to get Bob to quit tormenting me. "A phobophage?"

Bob nearly fell off the shelf laughing so hard.


The spirit didn't even pause for breath.


It continued laughing. Time to bring out the big guns. "If you don't quit this instant, I'm never bringing you a romance novel again."

Blessed silence. I waited a beat or two for Bob to get a grip on his emotions. "What is she?"

"First tell me where you came up with phobophage," Bob bargained.

I rolled my eyes. "I asked her what she was and she told me that she was The Boogey-Woman."


"So, what is she?"

"I guess she is The Boogey-Woman."


"For demons."

That was very interesting. "But she's not a phobophage. What is she?"

"She's the Slayer."


"The Vampire Slayer? Come on, Harry. You had to have heard of her: one girl in all the world killing the baddies."

I pictured the tiny, blonde cop 'slaying' vampires. Did. Not. Compute. "You're kidding."

"Nope and not only is she the Vampire Slayer, she's the most famous one of all. Arguably the best and you met the First One in the soul gaze. It's been going on that long. This one changed all the rules and saved the world a couple of times. Move over, Wizard Harry Dresden," Bob teased. "The professional White Hat has arrived."