A/n: This little piece is the first of (hopefully) many to come. It's kind of an prologue. If you're unfamiliar with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, do not worry. You should be able to read this fic regardless.

Warnings: Some disturbing elements and a tiny bit of femslash.

Finally, I'd like to thank the people on DLP who helped me out with advice and support. You guys were awesome.

There was a tentative knock on the door and I flinched badly enough to damn near spill coffee all over my lap. Some would argue that paranoia is a step in the direction of quiet white rooms and straightjackets.

For the professional wizard, however, it's more generally nothing but hard lessons learned either by long experience or a talent for trouble. I can't deny I have at least the latter or the two. Then again, as long as the paranoia keeps you a couple of steps away from the creature feature of the week, I gladly embrace it rather than getting mauled, maimed or mutilated. I brought out my shield bracelet and made sure both my gun and my blasting rod were easily accessible before calling.

"Come on in."

One of the many rules of wizardry dictate you never invite someone in. But that only counts in places where people live, where the emotions of the people within the household accumulate over time and form a protective barrier commonly called a threshold. Offices have no such thing, which made my request perfectly safe. Or at least no more dangerous.

A girl walked into the room, moving slowly, taking in the appearance of my none too tidy office. She was of average height for a woman and looked rather thin. It was hard to tell, though. The thick woolly jumper she wore muted her curves to the point where you couldn't tell. Her hair was red and her eyes green-ish hazel. She looked like she couldn't have had a driver's license for long, if at all. Seventeen, at the most.

She wasn't beautiful. Nor was she exactly pretty, though she probably would be one day.

"Harry Dresden?" She asked softly, taking a few nervous steps closer to my desk.

My hand closed on the blasting rod. There were many things that commonly walked the earth in the guise of adorable looking girls who were actually trying to eat whomever they looked upon. I didn't point out that the sign on the door clearly proclaimed what my name was. As Marcone would have said, that kind of attitude was bad for business. Instead I took on my best cars salesman's voice and said:

"Yes. What can I help you with?

It had better not be a love potion. Se wouldn't be the first, even though my add in the yellow pages specifically says no love potions.

"You're a wizard." It was somewhere in between a question and a statement.

"Yes," I said, drawing the word out unintentional in poorly hidden annoyance.

"Um..." The girl drew a breath. "I think I might be a witch."

I considered her for a moment. It wasn't a first time for this one either. Sometimes they had a small amount of talent. Mostly, though, all they possessed was an overactive imagination and far too much free time. Whichever was true, finding out wasn't hard.

"Please have a seat, miss...?"

"Rosenberg," she said. "Willow Rosenberg."

"I'm Harry Dresden."

I rose from my own seat and put one of the chairs from over by the corner in front of my desk. From the time that I stood up until I had given her a cup of coffee and returned to my creaky office chair, I didn't let go of my blasting rod or turn my back to her.,When we sat opposite one another, I put my left hand on the desk, palm up. A few seconds later, she caught on and put hers in mine. I dropped a nail of cold iron in her palm and... Nothing happened. That is, nothing happened with her flesh in response to the bane of all fairy kind.

But I did feel her power. Have you ever licked a battery? Or touched a charged fence surrounding cattle? Feeling someone's power is generally comparable. But if that was the metaphor I was going with, touching Willow's hand was what I expected those ten thousand volt Jurassic Park fences must have felt like. The girl had Power with a capital P. It was hard to be specific about such things, but was at least as strong as I had been at her age. Gulp.

"So..." I said and sat down, looking pointedly at her. "Tell me."

The girl drew a breath.

"I was 12 when it started." She looked at her feet. "Just small stuff at first, if I was really sad or happy."

I gave her a small nod, noting that she'd forgotten or chose not to mention 'angry'. That one is, in my experience, the most common source of spontaneous magic often done by young untrained wizards.

"It scared me at first and I wanted it to go way."

"But it didn't," I filled in. Years of experience as a private investigator have left me with considerable deductive skills.

"No," she agreed softly. "So I started using it. Experimented and-"

"How?" I interrupted, praying none of The Laws had been broken.

There are seven laws of magic. You're not allowed to kill people with magic. You're not allowed to transform other people into animals. You're not allowed to enthrall or otherwise mind-rape somebody.

Necromancy is a big no-no and so is time travel. If it seems like to show up in a bad novel, don't do it because you never know. And finally, you are not allowed to seek beyond the outer gates. Trust me, you don't want to do that anyway. The punishment for breaking any of them is death. She must've noticed the grim look on my face because he voice turned hesitant and peppered with stutters.

"F-floating stuff around. A-and I think I set off the sprinkler system at school once. Just small stuff, really."

She blushed guiltily and I sighed.

"What else?"

The blush worsened and she hid behind a curtain of auburn hair.

"When I used my magic more... Stuff stopped working around me. I fried four of Miss Calendars computers before she made me apply for something else and um - People started to notice and got kind of mean... Well, meaner."

"It's the way it is," I told her. "Magic and technology don't mix. Like oil and water... Or republicans and common sense. But that's not what I meant. You used your magic for something else, didn't you? To get even with some bully."

Willow bobbed her head in a nod. Whatever little of her face I could see resembled a tomato. It did not go well with her hair.

"Harmony. She was mean to me one day. More than usual. So I kinda tried to make wind blow her down... I had kinda made it work kind of like a blowdryer before but..."

It took a lot of effort to conjure up gales of wind. Moving so much air around was inefficient most of the time compared to pure force if your goal was to knock someone over. Thank goodness for that.

"It did sorta blow her skirt up... And she wasn't wearing any..." She choked on the word 'underwear'.

Maybe I was being a bad wizard role model or just plain old immature... But I burst out laughing. Only half a minute later did I manage to regain my composure.

"And that's the worst thing you did?" I asked, still breathless from fighting down un-wizardly giggles. She nodded.

"Alright," I said. "Keep going."

Finding out you're a wizard isn't as great as it sounds. Most of the time, giant men don't come and show you a wonderful magical world where almost everyone is in awe of you. It's more along the lines of coming out of the closet somewhere in the bible belt. You're all alone and most of the time there's nobody to talk to.

So I let her talk. Get things off her chest. Odds were it'd be good for her.

"I think it was the summer before high school. It had never happened before. I looked my mom in the eyes and something... I kinda sunk into her mind. I Saw her."

The way she capitalized the word 'saw' made me pretty damn sure it'd been a soul gaze. Her small body quivered in a little shudder. When a wizard looks another person in the eyes for too long, there's a connection. It tends to be an unsettling experience, especially the first time.

"She never wanted children," she continued quietly, as much to herself as to me. "She never loved me. Was it true?"

I didn't want to lie to her.

"It's called a soul gaze," I told her. "It shows you who the person you're looking at is, deep down. But it doesn't tell you everything."

I was mostly evading and distracting her, but she seemed to gain a little bit of hope and denial and her face brightened by a fraction.

"The librarian at Sunnydale high realized pretty quickly that I was an - um -
Wizard and he taught me the rules and some small basic stuff."

She smiled a little.

"I think he mostly trying to keep me distracted and away from more dangerous spells."

"Was he the one who sent you my way?"

She shook her head.

"No, but he mentioned you a few times. I found you in the phone book."

A thought struck me. Which does happen on occasion. Despite what others might claim.

"Do you parents know you're here?"

"Yeah," she said. Her attempt at lying was among the worst I'd seen.

I tried to imitate Charity Carpenter's best "Don't you bullshit me" look. It seemed to do the trick.

"I left a note", Willow said in a small voice.

"A note," I repeated, voice dry.

"I heard you sometimes teach people and I thought- maybe..." She inhaled but didn't seem to gain much confidence from it.

"I can pay," she tried, then flushed and added. "A little bit."

Well, shit. Repressing a talent of her magnitude could have catastrophic consequences. Ever seen Carrie? Firestarter? She'd clearly been banking on me being able to help, coming all the way from California. But I wasn't sure if I knew enough to teach her. Helping a couple of minor talents was one thing. This girl could be a major player and there'd be plenty of people who'd want to make sure she was on their side by the time she realized that.

I was barely a qualified wizard according to some people on the White Council, the governing body of most wizards. Then again, if those people got a hold of the girl I knew very well what they'd do with her. They'd mold her into a weapon, temper and sharpen her until she was ready to be directed at their enemies. She'd be nothing but a tool. Wielded by a bunch of tools, at that. I should probably talk to Ebenezer about this. My old mentor would know what to do.

"I have taught some people," I consented. "But it's a big responsibility. An apprenticeship lasts for a couple of years most of the time... And our world isn't exactly safe."

She shrugged. I scowled at her.

"I'm being serious. It's not Hogwarts with a lot of funny made up words where it's all games and fun... With the occasional slithering horror and dark wizard..."

I coughed and frowned.

"Yeah, it's a lot like that, actually."

She just shrugged again, something like fire in her eyes now.

"I'm from Sunnydale. I can handle myself."

Willow gave me a pleading look which damn near melted me. Damn it. I had never had a little sister to render me immune to the puppy dog look.

"I-"

The phone rang.

"Dresden," I answered tersely.

"Harry." The voice on the other side of the line belonged to Karrin Murphy of Chicago PD's special investigations.

The department was the city's response to anything and everything that didn't fall into the areas of responsibility of the other departments. When a vampire was rampaging or thieves robbed the jewellery store and left a dozen witnesses swearing they had seen the items float peaceably out of the place, SI was brought in to explain how the it had happened.

It was the deadest of dead ends to any police officers career and most of the people either quit or got fired for being unable to explain why there were people dying due to massive blood loss and fang marks at their throats with something that wasn't straight out of a horror story. Murphy had gone about things differently though, by hiring Chicago's only practising Wizard. She'd gotten results and had held on to her post longer than any of her predecessors.

She sounded shaken. That couldn't be good. Karrin Murphy was about as tough as a person got and if something had her rattled then I wisely got worried too.

"What's happened, Murph?" I tried to keep my voice comforting without getting anywhere close to patronizing.

"It's... I'll tell you on the way. Do you need me to pick you up?"

"Mm," I agreed. My trusty Volkswagen bug had broken down two days ago and my mechanic, Mike, needed another couple of days to get the parts to fix it up.

"My apartment in thirty minutes?"

"Yeah." She hung up on me.

"Trouble?" Asked Willow, on her feet and ready.

"I'm not sure," I admitted uneasily. "Sounded a lot like it."

She swallowed, opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. I ran a hand through my hair.

"Listen, kid. Taking on an apprentice is a big deal. So is being one. It's not the kind of thing to rush into deciding."

Willow just stood there, waiting and watching as I gathered up my gear.

"I need to go help my friend," I told her and stopped a few steps shy of walking past her.

I did have shelter to offer her as long as my cat decided to permit it and the girl needed it. I looked her in the eye for a brief moment and when she didn't flinch away from my gaze, I lowered my own.

"You can crash on my couch for now, if you'd like. Come on. Murph's gonna be royally pissed if I'm late."

Willow hesitated a brief moment, then slung her backpack more securely over her shoulder and half-ran after me through the door to keep up with my long strides. The autumn sun was pleasantly warm on my face as I steered my steps home.

We made it in time, even though Willow was panting with the effort of keeping up. She didn't complain though and there was enough time for me to overlook my cat's take on the guest.
Most of the time, Mister was regally unconcerned with the matters of us mere humans. Only every once in a while would he give them time out of his day. He approached let her pat his head twice, then rammed into my ankle on the way out. Which I took to mean he was okay with it.

"Um... Bathroom?" I pointed her in the right direction and had only just sunk down on the couch when there was a knock at the door.

Murphy looked awful. Don't get me wrong, she's usually - dare I say it?- cute. She's short and slender, not a hair taller than five feet, with bright blue eyes and golden blonde hair. Those eyes were sunken and bloodshot now and her hair fell lankly in front of them. She fought hard not to show it but she was exhausted. Murphy stepped inside and looked expectantly at me.

I pointedly clipped my laminated consultant's card to my duster. Murphy nodded about at the same time as Willow appeared behind her. The younger girl's eyes widened in something resembling panic and her mouth fell open.

"Buffy?" She croaked.

Murphy spun around in about a millisecond, ready to kick the ass of whatever had made the sudden sound. She stared at Willow for a moment, then cast me a sideways glance. Whatever emotion had flickered across the young red-heads face was gone already.

"Harry," Murphy said, using a dangerous intonation to my name. "Why is there an underage girl in your home when I know you don't have any family?"

Ah. From her perspective it probably looked pretty bad. I'd need to explain things quickly and thoroughly before she punched me.

"Um," I responded wittily. That probably wouldn't do it. Willow blushed at the intent attention, which did not help my case any at all.

"God's sake, Murph," I finally managed to blurt, hands raised defensively.

"What kind of guy do you take me for?"

She raised a golden eyebrow at me.

"Oh come on," I muttered. "She's got talent. Lots of it... and she's looking for someone to teach her."

I shrugged, then realized I'd forgotten to make introductions and hurried to correct that error. It brought attention away from the accusations of cradle robbing, at least.

"So, Willow... How old are you?"

I glared at Murphy.

"Don't we have a crime scene to go to?"

The amusement she'd been taking at my expense slipped off her face, leaving her looking vaguely nauseated. A bit like when you remember that lawnmower scene from Brain Dead you've been trying to repress in the middle of a meal.

"Yeah," she agreed.

The door was almost closed when Willow piped up.

"I'm sixteen, miss Murphy."

The corner of Murphy's lip twitched and I closed the door behind us. The drive took us well out into the suburbs to the kind of neighbourhood where nothing ever seems to happen until one of those "he was always such a nice young man" serial killers popped up. I let Murph continue teasing me about Willow and played along, feeling it'd be preferable to her thinking about whatever we were about to examine. There were four police cars outside of the perimeter set along the white picket fence, one ambulance and a throng of curious neighbours and reporters.

We pushed through the crowd, flashing our identification and ducked under the yellow and black tape where the fence parted at the house's entrance. All the drapes had been drawn and blocked all view from the outside. Which didn't exactly serve to make me feel all warm and fuzzy about the prospect of going in to check on what they were hiding. I opened the door and took one measured step inside, freezing in my tracks as the smell of brimstone assaulted my nostrils. Oh shit.

Murphy paused at my side, eyes calculating.

"You know what the smell is, right? You recognise it."

I gulped, reaching out with my senses to make sure there wasn't a slobbering monster hiding around the corner. There wasn't.

"It's sulphur," I said. "I guess a screwed up science project is wishful thinking."

Murphy nodded.

"It's- something else."

Murphy led me into the living room where the smell intensified. Through my collaboration with SI, I have seen my share of corpses, most of them having met ugly ends. That experienced helped me fight down the nausea rising up my stomach, but only barely. The room was large, with a dining table where we'd walked in, opening up into a space with two couches in front of a TV and large glass windows where the drapes had also been drawn.

The table that probably stood in between the couches and the expensive plasma TV had been cleared and put up against the wall. In it's place was an inner circle of tin, some of it warped by intense heat. Then an outer layer of candles, most of which were scattered across the floor, leaving half a circle.

Three bodies lay scattered in the room, one in the sofa, one by the broken circle of power and the last a few feet shy of the hallway we stood in. They were all sky clad, which made it easy to establish that they were men, but as for age, I could only guess. Late teens or early twenties, maybe.

There were no faces to go by because their heads had been ripped off their shoulders and were nowhere to be found. Judging by the way the blood had spattered, the removal of their hearts had followed. There were marks gouged in the hardwood floor from what looked like claws.
Whatever it was they had tried to call had been grumpy when it got free. Amateurs...

"When did this get called in?" I asked Murphy.

She blinked, thought for a second, then replied.

"Six in the morning, I think."

I nodded, relieved. That would mean the monster wouldn't have had much time to roam before sunrise banished it. With some luck, these were it's only victims. Some silver lining...

"What the fuck happened here, Harry?" She asked softly.

I glanced down at her, noting how she shivered. My first impulse was to put a hand on her shoulder, but I know she wouldn't want me to or let me with the technicians still doing their work dusting the place for prints.

"The kids tried to summon something. A demon, by the looks of things."

We sidestepped the corpse and I pointed at the summoning circle.

"That one there was the summoner. Sometimes you do rituals naked, but I think the other two were providing power."

Murphy cast me a questioning look.

"Sex," I explained. I examined the circle, which was flawed work.

"Something went wrong and whatever they brought forth got free... And had some fun."

"Where is it now?" She lowered her voice. "And how do we kill it?"

"It's gone. It couldn't stick around when the sun rose. There's nothing you can do here, Murph."

It clearly wasn't the answer she would've liked. She wanted someone to hold accountable. Whether off the books or not.

"What do you mean nothing?" She asked, meeting my eyes for a dangerously long second.

"Unless you want to charge the literal gates of hell, in which case I'll be right behind you, we can't do anything."

She sagged noticeably at that and the fire went out of her eyes, leaving them dull and tired.

"Nothing," she repeated to herself. "How the hell am I suppose to explain this?"

I got the feeling that wisecracking was a bad idea and restrained myself.

"No idea. You're the cop."

She scowled at me and my uselessness. "Let's get out of here."

We left the house again and the fresh air outside was an almost narcotic pleasure to inhale. Murphy spoke to some of her colleagues and gave them what would be the official story. Judging by the look on some of the cops faces, they knew that something else had gone down. Murphy and Stahlings shared a look that meant she was going to explain the case more thoroughly to him later out of the ears and eyes of busy-bodies and then headed for her car. I followed.

Murphy got in first and I could make out a few swearwords as I walked around to the other side of the car. I waited by the door for a slow ten count, then opened it and got inside. Murphy wasn't crying, but it didn't seem far away, either. I put my hand on her small warm one and she didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "It happens sometimes. Some newbie wizard gets in over his head with a demon or a fairy."

There was anger in her voice to accompany the unshed tears in her eyes.

"So we just get on with our lives like nothing happened? Fuck sake, Dresden. They were kids. Can't your people do something about this kind of stuff?"

I grimaced. The ruling body for wizards, the White Council, was mostly too swamped to deal with the issues. The rapid expansion of the human population combined with the ongoing war with the vampires courts kept them plenty busy. Most of the time, magic was hereditary and if your mommy or daddy was a Wizard, they could teach you the rules or find someone else to do it. But when talents were born outside of those circles, it was harder to keep track of.

"They don't have the resources to monitor billions of people, Murph."

I thought it over for a second. I didn't want to see a repeat of this any more than Murphy did.

"I'm going to accept Willow as my apprentice."

The shadow of a smirk lit up Murphy's features for a brief moment.

"If you do anything inappropriate to her, I am hauling your ass to jail, Dresden."

By the time I returned, Willow had lit a fire and seated herself in front of it with a book in her lap.

"Hey kid," I called out. She flinched, snapped her head my way and slammed the book shut, a guilty look on her face.

"First lesson," I told her. "Pay attention to your surroundings."

One moment, she looked confused. Then her face split in a grin that made her look like an even younger kid at Christmas morning. And yes, it was adorable.

"You'll teach me?" She asked.

Hell, if I had planned to tell her no, that look probably would've made me change my mind. The image of the dead boys flashed in my mind, detailed and gruesome. I winced.

"Yes," I said. "There's just one thing first. I need you to look in my eyes."

Her face went pale and her shoulders tensed visibly.

"Uh-" She hesitated, then nodded rapidly. "Yeah - Yeah, okay."

It was customary to soul gaze someone before accepting them as an apprentice... And even if it hadn't been, I would've insisted on it. My line of work might have made me paranoid, but I'd rather know exactly what troubles I was about to accept as my responsibility. I met her hazel eyes and a few moments later, my world blurred and changed into something else.

At first it seemed like I was standing in a room where the drapes had been drawn.
But when I looked around I realised that wasn't the case. I was in a school courtyard, under a large tree, standing next to Willow who had a book in her lap. The gloom clung to the area ten or fifteen feet around her, darker and more expansive than the shadow the tree's branches should've provided and then melded seamlessly into a bright sunny day.

There were plenty of people walking around in the light. Few of them seemed to note Willow's existence at all. One or two poked their heads in, but quickly went away again.
Likewise, a few rays of sunlight pierced the din occasionally, only to fade away. It was not an evil place. On the contrary, the grass which was otherwise bleached yellow by the harsh sun was green and rich where she sat. A small flower grew as if filmed and played at fast-forward, coaxed by her hand.

Then, quite suddenly, there was a sharp burst of light, as though someone had lit a magnesium flare. An angel came walking in, crouched and whispered a few words into Willow's ear. They stayed like that for a moment and then the angel took her hand and brought her out into the light. The connection broke and I found Willow staring at me, tears in her eyes.

I didn't know what she'd seen, but I knew what kind of girl she was now. She was lonely. She had been all her life. The magic couldn't have made it any easier on her. She was a good person, innocent and a little naive. I also saw her motivation. Why she was here. That angel, which I assumed was metaphorical (though you never knew for sure) was it. She wanted my help in order to be worthy of being next to that angel again, equally radiant and powerful.

They say that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. There's a good reason it's such a common saying. I could see that Willow might stray onto that path, thinking she was doing good until she was far gone to go back.

"You okay, kid?" I asked.

Others had fainted after looking upon my soul. I'm not sure what that says about me. Willow wiped the tears off her cheeks and nodded.

"Good," I said. "Now for lesson number two..."

Eleven months later

The call came when I was heading out of my office to grab a bite to eat. I groaned and my stomach joined in heartily. For a moment, I considered just leaving, but decided against it.
I had no pending cases and while money wasn't exactly a problem at the moment, I wasn't swimming in it either. Willow had started working shifts at a local McDonalds every now and then and I had initially tried my very hardest to make sure she wouldn't have to. Not only was it a place of evil, but I also thought it was a waste of time with a mind like hers.

It had taken me about two weeks to realize that it probably did her some good to meet people her own age and gain some measure of independence. At any rate, it was only 20 hours a week. I grabbed the phone and sat back down in my chair as I answered it.

"Dresden."

"Um.. Hello." The voice was quiet, female, and had a nervous quality to it. "Nick at Ragged Angel told me to call you."

I sat up straighter. When I'd first come to Chicago, I'd worked under Nick to learn the PI trade from him. He'd only sent a client my way twice before and neither case had been pretty. Ragged Angel investigations specialized in finding lost children.

"What can I help you with, ma'am?"

"My name is Anna Walowitz... My-."

She didn't speak for a few seconds and when she did, there was a new sort of surety in her voice, like she'd decided on a story. I also noted a light slur. "My daughter- Jane- is missing."

The obvious thing to tell her was to call the police... But if she had, they hadn't been able to help her... If she hadn't, there was probably a good reason for her not wanting to speak to them and searching me out instead.

"If I'm going to help you I need for you to be honest with me," I said.

Another pause. It sounded like she was chewing on something crispy on the other side of the line. Or maybe that was my phone acting up.

As I had suspected, it turned out that Ms Walowitz did have a reason not to call the police. It took a bit of wheedling, but I eventually got to the truth. She'd left her apartment shortly before mid-night and returned approximately three hours later to realize that her five year old daughter was gone. I told her my rates and she agreed to meet up with me two hours later. There was still plenty of time... It was Friday and damn it, I deserved one of Mac's steak sandwiches. I rose from my chair and the moment my hand touched the doorknob, the phone rang again.

"Dresden," I grumbled into the receiver.

"Hey Harry," Said Murphy. "I need you to meet me at the morgue."

I ran an annoyed hand through my hair. There went my dinner plans.

"If you think that's how easily wooed I am then you are dead wrong, Lieutenant."

"I'm pretty sure that's exactly how easy you are," she replied with a snort. "Can you make it?"
I sighed.

"Official business?"

"Not really," she said with a significant inflection to her words. "The other kind."

"Alright. I'll see you in an hour."

"Good."

We hung up. By the time I arrived at the McDonalds (Less than a year as my apprentice and she's already gone over to the dark side) Willow was sitting in the corner with a salad. She was out of her work clothes and donning something pink and flowery. And she wasn't alone.

On the bright red plastic chair opposite her was a tall athletic blonde in a light gray business suit. Her name was Gard and she was some sort of mercenary. Shit. It seemed like Gentleman Johnny Marcone, the undisputable boss of Chicago's criminal element, had made his move at last. I gave my apprentice a stern look, walked up and got myself a quarter pounder, then pulled out a chair and sat down, looking from one to the other.

"Well, " I said, helping myself to a French fry from Gard's tray and drawing a scowl.
"What's going on here, ladies?"

Willow kept chewing on her salad, though a flush rose steadily up the pale skin of her neck. Gard rolled her eyes.

"I am here on behalf of my employer to offer Miss Rosenberg a job."
She then added, with a sigh in her voice. "Again."

My apprentice smirked and I, amused at Gard's annoyance though I was, felt rather uncomfortable about the mob showing an interest in my apprentice. They had approached me several years ago, too and I'd turned them down.

"Mr Marcone feels, and I concur, that Miss Rosenberg's talents are wasted," her mouth twisted in distaste, "in a place like this."

Willow smiled.

"And I've kept telling her that I like it fine here," she said, taking a sip of her soda with the grin growing on her face. "It's always nice when she visits, though."

Gard raised her drink of sparkling water in a mock toast.

"I always appreciate some... Girl talk," Gard said, voice heavily laden with sarcasm.

I cleared my throat and glowered at Marcone's supernatural consultant.

"Now that I'm here, I think it's safe to say that your girl talk session is over. Beat it."

Gard glared at me and got out of her seat. Willow's almost gleeful call of "See you next week!" was ignored as she walked away.

I sat in awkward silence with my apprentice, devouring my hamburger. Once I was done, I noticed her looking intently at me.I didn't visit her at work very often, what with it being a place of grave blasphemy and all, so she probably assumed something was up.

"I've got a case," I told her. She'd been subtly, or so she thought, hinting that she'd be interested in tagging along. Mostly I think she was idolizing Murphy and wanted to hang out with her. "If you'd like to come along..."

She tensed, looking at me with curiosity.

"I can come with you?" She asked in disbelief, eyes wide and eager.

"If you feel ready for it," I replied.

She hesitated for a moment, thinking it over. Smart girl.

"Yes," she said, after some deliberation. "I'm ready."

I smiled and put a hand on her shoulder.

"We'll see."

You never really get ready for your first encounter with the gore and horror that comes with war or a brutal murder, no matter how much reading you do. Willow was about to find out the hard way, just like I had myself many years ago. If we hadn't been at war, I probably would've objected. But we were and there was no time to spare for coddling.

Phil at the morgue's reception sent us through to see Butters, who was waiting in his office. I knocked at the door and waited for the "come in" before entering. Waldo Butters sat behind his desk with several file folders across it. His computer hadn't only been turned off, but unplugged and moved away into a corner. Butters was a thin little guy with an unruly shock of black hair and a strange on-going romance with polka music.

"Harry," he greeted me good naturedly. "Who's the kid?"

"Waldo Butters, this is Willow Rosenberg. Willow Rosenberg, Waldo Butters."

There's a reason you introduce others like that and it originally comes from customs established by wizards of times long forgotten. Or at least that's the popular theory. True names have power. If someone has your full name, spoken from your own lips, they can use it against you much like they could with a lock of hair or your blood. For that reason, you avoid giving anyone any part of your name if you don't have to.

"Hi Murph," my apprentice said brightly, using the nickname only I was allowed to use. It was a privilege earned over many years. Murphy didn't exactly scowl at her, but her narrowed eyes were enough for Willow to redirect her attention to her feet. She really was working hard to de-frost Murphy. She'd even read books on psychology and criminology, but so far she'd had little to no success.

I probably should talk to Murph about it the next time we met. Anyone else who had met Willow hadn't had any problems with her. Not even Charity Carpenter, who I had assumed would've considered her evil by default for associating with me. She'd had a long talk to me about what happened to people who took advantage of young impressionable girls, though, bless her soul.

"What've you got for us?" I asked.

She glanced at Willow, then looked back at me. I met her gaze until she looked away. She'd said it was unofficial business, which meant she couldn't complain about my apprentice being around. At least not for professional reasons.

"Bodies," she responded. "Lots of them."

"Murdered?"

"Not exactly," Butters cut in. "They're not exactly human so I'm not sure the term applies. I thought you'd be a better judge of what exactly they were."

We moved over to the room next to the office where the bodies were being kept. Butters had already brought them out for us, but had them covered in a white cloth.

"Is she ready for this?" The question was directed more to me than Willow, but she was the one who answered it.

"Yeah," she said in a measured voice. "I know where the bathroom is if I need to barf. I'll be okay."

Butters didn't look entirely convinced, but pulled back the white cloth and exposed the four thoroughly dead bodies I circled the slabs the bodies had been lain out on twice, then looked at my apprentice. Her face had taken the same colour as the sheets the mortician had removed not long ago.

"What do we have here?"

She walked unsteadily, rather like a drunk girl coming out of a club on high heels, circling the tables as I had, leaning closer once for a better look before retreating to my side.

"They're red court vampires, those two."

The two corpses she pointed at looked human enough, except for the part where they'd been cut. There you could see that the skin was nothing but a outer layer that concealed something black and rubbery looking underneath.

"That one's black court, I think." She pointed at the dried up body that had been completely untouched by bugs. "And I think that one's a ghoul."

I nodded along, confirming each. You couldn't be entirely sure about the black court unless you did some pretty thorough research, but people generally don't behead corpses for fun.

"Nicely done, kid." She smiled weakly.

"What about how they were killed?"

She swallowed and regulated her breathing carefully, clearly trying to keep her salad down.

"A sword," she said, giving the bodies another unwilling look. "I think. Must've happened quick if the Reds didn't even get out of their flesh masks."

The ghoul's skull had been cleaved diagonally from the lower jaw at the left side and the ear on the other. Like the red court vampires, ghouls could assume a more or less human shape.

"Yepp," Butters confirmed. "A wicked sharp one at that."

Both he and Murphy looked at me.

"Is someone from your field involved?" Murphy asked. She carefully kept any accusation or demand from her tone, which was appreciated. I shrugged.

"It could be a warden's blade... But getting in close quarters with a black or red court vampire is suicide. A warden would be smart enough to use magic. It could be one of the knights."

"Or something internal," Murphy added.

"Definitely," I agreed. "If we killed them half as well as they kill each other, the war would've been over already."

She looked at me with worry.

"Has anything been happening?"

"Nah," I said. "Nothing much lately. Anything else?"

Butters nodded.

"Lots of burned bodies. Almost all of them showing signs of strange 'deformities'."

Huh. Sounded like somebody was going Van Helsing on the monsters of Chicago. Maybe I should send flowers?

"I'll ask around," I promised Murphy. "But as far as I'm concerned, a few monsters less won't hurt."

"All we know is that something bad ass is killing monsters," she noted. "Doesn't mean it's motives are altruistic."

I raised my eyebrows at her.

"That word of the day toilet paper is really paying off, Murph."

She scowled. I ignored her and glanced at my apprentice, still deathly pale, and decided it was time to go before she fainted. We'd only gotten through the door and closed it behind us when Willow collapsed against me. I was more or less ready and steadied her.

"Sorry," she murmured, leaning her forehead against my arm. "I didn't mean to-"

I shushed her.

"You did great, kid," I said. Then, more quietly, I added. "Muphy looked impressed."

Willow's cheeks tinted with a bit of colour at the implied praise. "Really?"

"Definitely." I ruffled her hair and we walked down the hallway. Willow rushed the last few yards out of the building, dove for the closest patch well manicured bushes, where she was promptly and violently sick. A wizard always comes prepared. I had brought some chewing gum.

We took the car to the address I'd been given by Miss Walowitz. It wasn't exactly in the bad part of town, but it could not be said it was anywhere in the vicinity of the nice part, either. I found a parking spot, a minor miracle in Chicago and looked over to my apprentice.

"You should probably stay in the car for this one," I told her. "I've got a feeling she wouldn't respond particularly well to more people tagging along."

"Oh." She looked a bit put out, which always made me die a little inside.

"I won't be long. Keep your eyes open."

Willow didn't answer. She just vanished from sight. Her veils weren't exactly perfect, but with me as a teacher, I didn't expect anything else. Subtle magic has never been my forte. Even so, anyone not looking to find her there wouldn't see her. Satisfied, I walked into the building and up to the third floor where Miss Walowitz lived. I rung the bell a few times before realizing it didn't work and knocked instead. Wizards and technology... Although it could just as easily be that the place was a dump. There were heavy steps and a little while later, the door opened with the rattle of a door chain.

"Yes?" Asked a nervous female voice.

"It's Harry Dresden," I told her, sidestepping until I was visible in the narrow slit the security chain allowed open. "We had an appointment."

The chain rattled and after some fussing, the door opened. Miss Walowitz was somewhere in her mid to late twenties and quite a lot overweight. Her eyes darted from me to the hallway behind me in rapid succession and even from four feet away, I could smell the alcohol on her breath.

"Dresden..." She focused her blue eyes on me with a little bit of difficulty. "Come in."

Before I did, I made a mental note about the door being solid and intact. I was right about the place being a dump. There were beer cans and pizza cartons scattered all over the linoleum floors. The apartment was tiny. Even smaller than mine, which says a lot. The living room was combined with the kitchen and had a bed placed on front of an old TV. Another, smaller bed stood in a corner with it's own little desk and chair. The bed was neatly made and the desk well organised for such a young kid. I assumed the door I'd passed on my way in had been the bathroom.

"Sorry," Walowitz mumbled. "I was gonna clean up a bit, but-"

She shrugged and settled heavily on the chair.

"Drink?" She issued at what looked like cheap vodka.

"No thanks," I said through gritted teeth, fighting down my rising anger. If I had a little girl and she went missing, I'd damn well take the world apart if that was what it took to get her back. It seemed like my client had taken another approach. I forced myself to calm down and focus on the problem at hand.

"Could you go over the details again?"

She did. She'd been gone from midnight until three in the morning and during that time, her daughter had gone missing. Anna Walowitz began crying as she repeated drunkenly that her little girl was a good girl who always did her homework. How she took after her daddy, who was much smarter than her. Smart enough to get the hell away from this place and never look back. My anger faded away into pity.

"Do you have any relatives in town? Any friends who have keys?"

She had to think about it, but shook her head.

"Do you have any enemies?" I asked tentatively.

Walowitz shook her head.

"No ex-boyfriends? Dealers? Strangers lurking about?"

She shook her head again. I'm not some kind of lie detector, supernatural powers or not, but I've been lied to a lot. It didn't feel like Anna Walowitz was lying to me.

"How about your neighbours? Has she got any friends there? Do you talk to any of them?"

She shook her head and I sighed. There are plenty of predators in the world without ever counting the supernatural ones. But they generally don't ring doorbells in the middle of the night.

"Would you give me a moment?"

"Uhm- Yeah. Okay."

Her eyes were far away already and she settled staring into the grimy surface of the table as I walked around the apartment, arcane senses outstretched. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary going on, though. Not as far as I could see, at any rate. I went over to Jane's desk. There were a few well used crayons and a few drawings. Some, I supposed, meant to show Jane and her mom. Some with a friend with long dark hair and a dark indistinguishable face. I didn't have any point of reference, but they seemed pretty good for a kid her age. I looked through her dustbin, but found nothing hinting at who might've contacted her. Nothing... Which left me with few mundane suspects.

Except for a few minor occurrences, there was no trade in children for sexual purposes in Chicago. Most of the scum knew very well what Gentleman Johnny Marcone thought of such things and what happened to those who incurred his disapproval. That didn't stop individuals from getting to children, of course.

It could also be somebody without any kind of nefarious scheme. Someone who thought the little girl was suffering at home, which by the looks of it wasn't unlikely, and tried to help her. Which gave me two places to look. The pre-school and the morgue. You know what's great about being a wizard? We get to cheat. I fished through her drawer until a found a little hairbrush, from which I plucked a few light brown hairs. I put them in a plastic bag and pocketed it.

Walowitz had passed out with her head resting on the table. A good guy would just let her sleep. Maybe leave a note saying he's on the job and that we'd deal with payment later.
I'm not a good guy. I gave her arm a solid prod with my finger and settled back in the chair opposite her.

"Hey. Do you have a picture of Jane?"

In case the tracking spell failed, then at least I'd have the picture to use for comparison.

"Yeah." She pulled out a wallet from her jeans with quite a bit of difficulty and handed me a small square picture that seemed recent.

"There's also the matter of the payment..."

Walowitz fumbled with the wallet again and got out a bunch of small bills that more or less covered two days of full time work.

"I can get more," she said, voice tinged with tears she wasn't shedding anymore. "Just..."

"I'll do my best," I promised, feeling rotten.

If there is a heaven, I really hope Michael puts in a good word for me or I'm screwed. I'd almost gotten down to the door leading out of the apartment building when there was a feminine scream closely followed by crash of breaking glass. I sprinted the last few steps, tore the door open and saw a humanoid thing flying across the street, crashing into the door of a coffee shop. Willow appeared from the blue beetle, visibly shaking, but with her blasting rod held out in front her.

The guy she'd blasted across the street was getting up and upon closer scrutiny, I realized he wasn't a person at all. He was a ghoul. The human mouth distended into something more like a muzzle, with sharp pointy teeth. His back bent and his shoulders broadened. I levelled my own blasting rod on the thing as it's arms grew longer and it's fingers extended into talons. It looked at me for a long moment, then turned and skedaddled.

Long experience has taught me never to let me guard down. Which probably saved my skinny ass. Because the ghoul wasn't running away. He banged his fist against the door of a van and half a dozen of his buddies swarmed out. Ghouls are not the biggest or the baddest things in the supernatural community by a long shot, but they are still very dangerous. If running is an option, you're often wise to exercise it

My hand itched to reach for my blasting rod, but in the time I'd blast one ghoul down, the rest would overwhelm us. So I curbed the impulse and got into the driver's seat, put my key in the ignition and turned it. The blue beetle is an old car but it mostly runs. Emphasis on mostly.
This time, it didn't. It just kind of wheezed a little. I kicked the door open again in time to catch a particularly quick ghoul who'd gotten ahead of his little friends in the gut.

It toppled over with a grunt of pain and I checked it in the face with my staff as I went by. His friends weren't far behind. By the time I reached the sidewalk, they were only a few feet from the car and closing fast. Willow was already ready, fumbling with her shield bracelet, a defensive foci she'd created with my help.

"Screw the shield!" I shouted. "Run!"

We both run for practise, a habit I picked up for situations just like these and quickly imposed upon my apprentice. But jogging at a leisure pace in the park or at the beach is not the same thing as running for your life from a bunch of drooling monsters. The problem with supernatural beings is that they cheat. We couldn't outrun the ghouls and we most definitely would tire faster than they would. The open street would mean innocent bystanders and ghouls aren't known for their restraint. I looked over my shoulder to see the ghouls closing rapidly.

"Forzare!" The spell was sloppy and the energy spread over a large area, but there was enough juice in it to make the ghouls stumble and fall. The window of a white Volvo cracked and it's alarm blared loudly. The spell bought us the time we needed.

We fled into a narrow alley, made it ten meters in, then turned around and waited, panting. The ghouls were only a few seconds behind. Ghouls aren't very clever. That doesn't mean they're as dumb as, say, a troll, but they still didn't seem to realize the position they'd put themselves in.

The alley was very narrow, even for Chicago, two meters at the very most. On the streets, they had cars and civilians to hide behind, not to mention a lot of room to move in. Now they had none of those things. Even so, this spell was going to have to be a big one to get them all. I drew in my fear, aimed my blasting rod at the ugliest of the bunch and shouted.

"Fuego!"

Fire roared as it spilled out of the rod and filled the alley in front of us. The ghouls had too much momentum to stop in time and though the fire obscured them within moments, I could still hear them screaming. My knees almost buckled in weariness and I planted to staff for support. When it faded a few moments, the ghouls lay twitching and smelling disturbingly like burnt meat. Though they were almost burnt down to skeletons, they weren't dead yet.

I rested my hand on the gun inside my coat pocket for a moment. There wasn't much time. The ghouls weren't dead, but they probably wouldn't survive. The gun would make noise and draw cops but I couldn't leave the ghouls alive, either. If they somehow did recover, they'd probably be pissed.

I glanced to the side to find Willow on her hands and knees, retching. I needed the magic if more surprises came our way. I patted my apprentice's back as I walked past her. Then I pulled out my .44 magmum and put one bullet in each the ghoul's burnt skulls.

"Come on, kid. We're leaving."

I took a few steps away from the corpses and Willow didn't move. I raised my voice.

"Willow," I barked. "We're leaving."

She jerked and pulled herself to her feet, face was deathly pale. She pointedly did not look at the corpses. Ghouls, like faeries and vampires, are connected to the mortal world in ways that most other creatures of the Nevernever aren't. If it had been a demon we'd dispatched here, the corpses would be turning to ectoplasm within a few seconds of their death. But the ghouls wouldn't. Clean-up duty wasn't my thing to deal with, though. The ghouls clearly weren't human, but I wasn't about to bet that the police would thank me with cake if they found us. Especially not when I didn't have a permit for my gun.

"How're you feeling?" I gave her some more chewing gum.

"Peachy," she replied feebly, accepting the gum and popping it into her mouth.

There was a prickling sensation at the back of my neck that told me we were being watched, but as I looked around, I could not see anyone. We circled the block and made our way back to the blue beetle which stood untouched where I'd parked it. I hadn't even gotten a ticket, which was probably as good a silver lining as this day was going to get. The car started at the first try, probably just to spite me and I cursed it's betrayal as we drove home. The first thing I did was get myself and Willow a coke. Then I called the council and reported everything.

Willow had filled me in on the details as we rode home. The first ghoul had tried to sneak up and check the car and gotten out a bomb. I hadn't told her how very lucky she'd been that the blast of force she'd used to toss him across the street hadn't detonated the device.

Luccio wasn't in at the moment and Morgan, the second in command of the wardens, wasn't overly helpful. He advised me to stay indoors after dark and assured me that that the information would be forwarded. I responded with a tired "Duh" and hung up on him the grouchy bastard. Willow came out of the bathroom and sank down in the couch, smelling faintly of the minty toothpaste we both preferred. She still looked awfully pale and I decided to voice my suspicion from early, hoping it'd distract her rather than worry her further.

"Did you feel like somebody was watching us when we left the alley?"

She considered the question for a moment, then shook her head.

"No... But it has been that kind of a day."

I'm not sure whether I've taught the kid well or just damaged her.

I felt that an assassination attempt warranted a night off, but I don't think either of us got much sleep. Willow woke up twice in the middle of the night from bad dreams and after the second time, I brought a blanket and settled to snooze in the comfortable chair by the sofa instead. If Willow woke again, I didn't notice it. When I woke up it was early morning, judging by the weak light coming in through the small windows and my neck was killing me. The smell of brewing coffee roused me from my pained drowsiness. Willow appeared a moment later and handed me a cup of sweet liquid consciousness. She looked awful, with heavy bags under bloodshot eyes.

"How're you doing, kid?"

She grimaced, but that could very well have been due to the coffee. It takes a few years of professional Wizarding to develop a tolerance to it.

"I had bad dreams," she said, finally.

"Was it the one about having the original star wars movies remade? Cause that one I've had and it's pretty horrific."

She smiled feebly and sunk down onto the couch, gathering the blankets around her as if they were armour.

"It gets better," I told her. "It doesn't go away, but you learn to handle it."

She put down the cup of coffee, which was mostly untouched and had fallen asleep thirty seconds later.

I considered letting her rest, but she had wanted to learn the tricks of the trade. Sleep deprivation was one part of the gig. So, feeling like the worst asshole on the planet, I shook Willow awake. Her eyes opened very slowly and I tried for an apologetic smile as I handed her the cup of coffee.

"We need to get going in a few minutes, kid."

I swigged the rest of my own cup. As I said, after a few years of Wizarding, you learn stuff.
Then I went into my bedroom and picked up a black box tied up with a purple ribbon from under my bed. I returned with it to the other room and awkwardly dropped it in Willow's lap.
She, in turn, looked up at me in surprise. Then, a small smile curving one corner of her mouth, she drank the last of her coffee, set the cup down, and tore into the package eagerly. It contained a leather coat similar to my own, only more fashionable. I'd asked both Murphy and Molly Carpenter for advice before buying it.

"I was going to give it to you for your birthday," I explained. "But after what happened yesterday, it's probably a good idea to wear it."

She ran her fingers along the material, eyes wide.

"Is it- enchanted?"

I nodded and she grinned.

"Cool."

We started with the only people who'd be up early on a Sunday morning. The Carpenter family. St Mary of the Angels church is a renaissance revival building. I have no idea what that means, I'm a wizard, not an architect, but Michael told me so once. It's a large, imposing building, beautiful in it's own way and has been a sanctuary against various evil for me more than once.

As I walked towards the entrance I realized that I had never actually been there at a sermon before. Michael had suggested it a few times, but I'd never taken him up on the offer.
I'm pretty sure there is a God. But I'm not quite so sure he likes me. Or that I like him. Willow is Jewish, but as far as I knew doesn't really believe. We were spared of going inside by finding Michael by the doors, holding Harry, his youngest child.

His face lit up in a broad honest smile upon spotting me. Or possibly Willow. The two of them got along well. He seemed to feel she was a positive influence on his eldest daughter, Molly. And possibly me as well.

"Hello, Harry. Willow." He nodded at us both in turn. "Have you come for the sermon?"

"No," I told him firmly. There was no point in stoking that particular fire with any more fuel. "There are a bunch of dead vampires and ghouls in the morgue that were killed with a sword."

The expression on his face told me everything I needed to know before he spoke. He hadn't a clue.

"I'm sorry. I don't know."

"And you'd know if Sanya were in town, right?"

"Yes," he said. "He's not."

We looked at one another for a moment. Michael broke the silence first.

"Charity is making pot roast tonight. If you have time."

He gave me a knowing smile. Charity had initially been suspicious about Willow by default. But after a while, she'd decided that her daughter's on-going goth phase warranted extreme measures and was clearly leaning on her husband to arrange play-dates for the two of them. Neither of us had ever called her on it. I might be a Wizard, a wielder of the primordial forces of creation and Michael might more or less be the fist of God... But neither of us would willingly anger Charity. I had yet to meet a woman who does a better job at embodying the saying about the fury of a woman scorned.

I glanced at Willow. Her expression wasn't hard to read. She did try to look neutral and professional but did a poor job at hiding the eagerness. It was probably a good thing for her to hang out with kids her own age a bit. Crusty old wizards like me aren't always the best company. On top of it all, Charity's pot roast alone was reason enough to marry her.

"We'll try to make it," I said. "There's a kid missing."

He nodded solemnly.

"If you need my help you know where to find me. Or the Lord will know where I'll find you, at any rate."

I thanked him and headed to Pizza Express. Which might seem like a strange thing when it hadn't been that long ago since I'd had breakfast. Willow gave me a look as if trying to decided whether this was some sort of lesson or if I'd just completely lost it when I walked into an alley and put the pizzas on the ground.

"What're we doing out here again, boss?"

"Magic," I told her smugly.

She frowned severely at me and I grinned.

"I need you to put your fingers into your ears for a sec, okay?"

Willow did it and observed me expectantly. While she did, I gathered my will and spoke a Name.I repeated it a couple of times and on the tenth repetition, something seemingly dropped out of the sky. Ordinarily, I would've gone with a more standard bait and snare technique, but I had come to a kind of understanding with this particular source. Not to mention that I had an inkling that my apprentice would have strong feelings about the employment of circle traps on things she'd consider cute or cuddly.

The dew-drop fairy was about six inches tall and looked like a miniature of an athletic youth. He wore clothes he'd probably stolen off an old GI Joe doll and had cut up in the back to make room for his dragonfly wings.

"Toot-Toot," I said, keeping my voice solemn and formal.

I didn't want to hurt his tiny little feelings because he seemed to taking all of this very seriously. The little folk are just about everywhere and while they're hardly dangerous in the sense the High Sidhe are, they see a lot more than people think. As a source of intelligence, they're incredibly useful. From behind me, I heard Willow approach. She moved slowly and kept her body language passive, though there was a look on her face she usually reserved for kittens and puppies.

"My Lord," he replied, eyes darting between me, my apprentice and the steaming box of pizza.

Toot and I had a working relationship which revolved around me bribing him and a few of his fellow fairies with pizza in return for their assistance. Sometime over the years, he had dubbed me the Pizza Lord and gathered a small group of fairies into the Za Lord's guard, of which he was currently the major general.

"I have need of your assistance, Toot," I told him. "and I offer this pizza in return for services rendered."

"As you wish." His voice dropped. "Maybe we could have just a slice? As incentive for the troops, you know?"

I grinned. "Of course."

And without any further preamble, pixies appeared out of nowhere like a swarm of particularly flamboyant gay wasps. They assailed the pizza with the ferocity like a scene out of The Birds and consumed the promised slice in a matter of seconds. They were all tiny, most only visible as small specks of lights.

"What is your command, My Liege?"

I picked the picture of little Jane Walowitz out from my pocket and showed it to him.

"I need you to find this girl."

He bobbed his head in a nod so exaggerated that his coca cola cap helmet fell off. He let it lie on the ground and snapped his hand to his head in a salute.

"It will be done, my Lord!"

They all zoomed off.

"So that's a fairy," Willow said as we settled against the wall of the alley and waited. "Do I get to meet any of the Sidhe?"

Her eyes were burning with that curious light I'd sometimes see in them.

"God I hope not," I told her seriously. Some things are best to stay away from, even if they seem intriguing. The moth to the flame metaphor and all that.

The light went away and was replaced with poorly hidden disappointment.

"Trust me," I assured her. "You don't want the Sidhe to be taking an interest."

She nodded and put her hands inside her new coat with a sullen expression. A few months into autumn was enough for her to start feeling cold. Californians are a bunch of weaklings.
Toot-Toot wasn't just a surprisingly good source of information on most days, he was also for the most part, harmless. The same could not be said for all of his kind.

The Sidhe are nigh immortal beings of unnatural beauty who live in the parts of the Nevernever closest to the mortal world. In some ways, they are also the creatures of the spirit realm most similar to humans. But just because they aren't sprouting tentacles and drooling acid doesn't mean they aren't dangerous. If you ever end up in debt to a fairy, they can use that connection to work their magic on you. Which they will, if you don't satisfy your end of the bargain... or if they're just feeling petty.

"Still..." Willow mumbled. "Could've been cool."

I patted her shoulder and offered her a slice of the second pizza I'd brought for us. She accepted it and took a bite, eating to pass the time. Toot took longer than usual. When he appeared, almost half an hour later, he seemed reluctant to approach. I went up to him instead.

"What's up?"

The pixie's head drooped.

"We cannot find the girl, Harry," he said. "She isn't in town."

Ah. That was worrying. I did my best not to sound disappointed.

"I'm sure you did your best, Toot," I said, rising to my feet. "The pizza is yours, as agreed."

This time it actually took a few moments for the pixie's apparent shame to be overwhelmed by his lust for pizza.

Willow and I returned to the apartment and spent the next two hours calling around to hospitals and morgues, even checking in with Butters to see if anything new had popped up. It hadn't. If nothing else, I thought I was teaching my apprentice patience. Being a private investigator and a wizard may be sexy as hell, but on occasion, it can suck.

Deciding that the lesson on patience was done, I moved on to the next option. Magic. Thaumaturgy, to be more specific. I had a strand of the girl's hair. A small part severed from a whole provided a conduit which I could use to find the girl. Twenty minutes and several tracking spells later, I gave up. It was a bust.

Adding the facts together, this could mean only a few things. Either someone had cut the girls hair off and provided her with sufficient disguise to fool Toot. Which wasn't too tricky. For immortal beings, change is often an alien concept. He might not realize it was the same girl, if someone had put a wig on her head. All in all, though, it felt unlikely.

Someone could have taken the girl outside of Chicago and somehow jammed my locator spell. It was doable but at the same time just as unlikely as the first theory. It'd take a major talent to pull off such a thing. I smacked a hand to my forehead. The kid could be in the Nevernever. A tracking spell would not pierce through to the world of spirit. It would fit the fairy abduction theory.

A few years ago, I would only have crossed over into the Nevernever under the direst of circumstances. Things had changed during the years of the vampire war, though. Now it wasn't much more than an inconvenience. Willow still looked suitably impressed as I tore a hole in reality, at least. I had both staff and shield bracelet ready to go when we stepped through the way and into the territory of the Winter Sidhe.

Mab, the queen of air and darkness and monarch of the Unseelie Fae may have given the wizards permission to walk along certain paths but that didn't make it safe. Winter was full of creatures that may very well forget themselves at the sight of warm flesh. So I was ready for a fight when I walked through the Way. But what awaited us on the other side wasn't a slobbering troll or some other shadow-dwelling horror. It was a Sidhe woman and not just that, but also my godmother. Yes, I have a fairy godmother. Just go with it...

"Wow," my apprentice breathed, her eyes far away.

We were standing in a forest of spindly and crooked dead trees. In the distance, mountains rose beyond the clouds. Far, far beyond them were the deepest reaches of Winter and Mab's stronghold of Artcis Tor.

When Willow finally noticed the woman, her hand shot down towards her blasting rod in shock. I caught it half-way.

"Willow," I said with gentle reprove and warning "This is my Godmother, The Leanansidhe. Lea, this is my apprentice, Willow Rosenberg."

The Leanansidhe, like all of the Sidhe, was lovely beyond anything mortals had words to adequately describe. She was tall, with hair of rich auburn and curves emphasised rather than concealed by a green silk dress. She was barefoot, despite the snow, and did not seem bothered by it in the slightest. My apprentice stood tense for a moment, then took a step forward and gave my Godmother a little bow. Lea's gorgeous red lips parted in a delighted smile and she stepped up to Willow, observing her intently. There was an almost childish light of excitement in her eyes.

"So polite," she gushed. "Is she for me, Harry?"

Willow tensed and I scowled at the Sidhe woman.

"No. She's my apprentice." I met my godmother's eyes without worry. Fairies don't have souls, as such, to gaze upon.

"What're you doing here?" I asked her.

"I am merely safeguarding your well-being, dear child. I am ever so glad you decided to visit."

I just stared. She just couldn't be serious... Could she?

"You're... I'm not- I'm here to do a tracking spell, then I'm leaving." I rolled my eyes and added: "Sorry."

She nodded.

"I see. I will safeguard you while you work." Her gaze shifted to Willow.

"Mayhap your apprentice would like to stay when you depart? I am sure I could teach her a great many things that you could not."

The two of them shared a look. My godmother's smile widened and my apprentice cheeks tinted red.

"Leave her alone, Lea," I said tiredly. "Remember the lessons, kid. No deals and no gifts, no matter how small. I need a couple of minutes."

We settled into silence. Which is creepy enough in an ordinary forest, let alone one in the Nevernever. Then again, with Lea around, there weren't many things that would be able do hurt me. I drew a circle in the snow at my feet, infused it with my will and got to work.

Meanwhile, my Godmother talked to my apprentice. I couldn't hear what they said, but Willow's face was slowly turning tomato red. I couldn't order Lea around, especially not on territory that was more hers than mine. I just had to hope the kid would be smart enough not to be tricked into any deals. I went through a couple of trusty locator spells... To no avail. The terrain of the Nevernever was as fluent as thought in some locations, but there should at least have been a link.

After another twenty minutes or so, I gave up. One of the harsh lessons of the world is this: You don't always win. Hell, most of the time you're lucky to be able to fight another day. Willow met my gaze and I shook my head.

"Sorry, Willow. She's gone."

We both walked heavier upon returning from the Nevernever. The adventure had turned into reality very quickly for the kid. I hadn't taken the harsh reality of the world any better when it had first hit me like a fastball to the gut so I couldn't blame her in the slightest.

"I'm sorry," I told her again, "I'll drop you off before going to Walowitz-"

She shook her head jerkily.

"N-no." She swallowed and then spoke in a steadier voice. "I'm ready."

"You weren't around when I was there the first time," I tried to reason. "If you're coming, then you're going to have to wait in the car again."

"Okay," she said. "I'll watch the car."

I sighed.

"Alright."

I generally don't work cases involving children. Whenever someone has problems with missing kids, I refer them to Nick, who does better job at it in any case. This is why. People die. Even wizards, whose lives sometimes span over four centuries, will die eventually. But nobody should die as young as little Jane Walowitz had.

Informing a parent on the death of a child isn't an enjoyable business. There are many different reactions and I don't know if any is really to prefer above the others. Anna Walowitz went with denial. It didn't take long for that denial to turn into anger. Without anyone else to lash out on, she went for me. When I'd ducked the second liqour bottle, I decided any efforts at comforting her were futile and went with the better part of valor.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down as I got seated in the driver's seat of the blue beetle. Partially because I didn't want the engine to explode, but mostly not to worry the kid any more than was strictly needed.

"How do you feel about dinner tonight? I asked.

I wasn't hungry or anything. In fact, I felt a little sick. But I had a feeling that seeing the Carpenter family would be good for both of us.

"I guess pot roast's gotta be better than whatever we're having otherwise," Willow said after a while.

I scowled, but couldn't really disagree. Later that night Charity provided the lot of us with her heavenly pot roast. The Carpenters all said grace, while I pointedly did not. Willow didn't either, though she looked hell of a lot less comfortable than me.

"How was your day, Willow?" Charity asked in a conversational tone.

My apprentice's face remained more or less neutral, but her large hazel eyes never seemed to follow along with her attempts at a poker face. They were a little bit shiny now. If anybody else at the table noticed, they didn't mention it. Willow swallowed, forced herself to smile and said.

"I met Harry's fairy godmother."

Charity's face turned stony.

"Oh?"

I shot the kid a warning glance, but she wasn't looking my way. The first and only time the Carpenters had met Lea, there'd been an altercation and Charity clearly hadn't forgotten.

"Yeah," Willow went on, the smile turning genuine. "She was nice. Bit odd, but Harry says most of them are."

She winked for the benefit of the adults who knew it was an actual fairy we were talking about.

"Are you certain it is a good idea to bring her along to meet such - people?" Michael asked, concern on his face.

If anyone else had said it, I probably would've rolled my eyes at them. But I respect Michael.

"We kinda ran into her," I explained in between bites of food. "Besides. The world is what it is and coddling her isn't going to change that."

Willow pointedly engaged Molly in conversation about if she'd been doing any better in math since she'd started tutoring her and the rest of the topics switched to more mundane matters. Michael and I sat down in the living room after dinner, talking quietly over a beer. Willow was upstairs with Molly.

"She's been doing a lot better in school," Michael said, a father's pride in his voice. His smile then turned wry. "I dare say she even has a positive influence on you, Harry."

I scowled at him, but only half-heartedly.

"She's a good kid," I consented. "Which I'm glad for, considering how dangerous she is going to become."

Michael frowned.

"Dangerous?" He asked. "Willow?"

I nodded. "She's at least as strong as I was at that age and learning to control herself hell of a lot faster than I ever did."

Michael must've been distracted by the statement to miss that I had used the word 'hell' under his roof.

"I am sure you will prepare her and take care of her," he said after some consideration.

"Hope so," I said and sipped some more beer. "Have you heard anything from Sanya?"

Willow descended the staircase an hour later and we left the Carpenter's house a few minutes later and drove home.

"Hang on," Willow closed the beetle's door and paused for a moment to tie her shoelaces.

I waited, senses outstretched and sweeping for danger. My apprentice stood up, put her gloved hands inside her coat pockets, shivering in the cold late autumn wind. I paused for a second to wave her over impatiently. Which was what saved her life. A moment later, I felt something that just was plain wrong in the air. A cold nauseating presence that descended upon me like a cloud of greasy smoke from the direction behind my apprentice.

"Get down!" I snarled.

Willow must had felt the presence too, because she was already turning and crouching, reaching for her weapons. I pulled out my blasting rod and pointed the stick of oak in the direction of the cold power, drawing in my will. I unleashed it with a cry of "Forzare" a moment before a shape appeared from the shadows in a blur. It was a black court vampire.

The vampire tried to dodge, but my strike of pure force was aimed at it's centre mass and wide enough to clip it's shoulder with enough power to send it sprawling.

I called forth fire. A lot of it and sent it spilling over the creature before it could get to it's feet. It went up like a torch, but even then managed to get vertical and cross the distance between itself and Willow. It's raking, claw like fingers met with her shield, which lit up in a pink bubble around her upon the impact which was strong enough to dent steel plate. It struck once, twice and my apprentice winced both times. Before the third strike, she spoke a harsh sounding word and the shield exploded outwards, sending the vampire stumbling and far away from her for me to target. This time, with my anger and fear for my apprentice's life tightly leashed by my will, I called enough fire to burn it to ash.

Another wave of the same greasy power of the black court assaulted my senses the moment I struck and I turned to see a second vamp coming my way. There was enough time for me to realise that I would never get my shield up before it tore me to pieces. Then there was a flash of silver in between it and myself and then it's head toppled off it's shoulders. The thing had enough momentum left to fly through the window of a car parked on the other side of the street. Someone was going to have a shitty start to his or her morning tomorrow.

The creature collapsed on the ground and only then did I notice the wielder of the sword that had done the job. It was a short humanoid shape, but it was covered by- something. It wasn't a veil. It didn't even feel like magic. The best explanation I could give was that it stood clad in liquid shadow. The obfuscation faded slowly, revealing a short blonde around the same age as Willow, dressed in a black tank top and jeans.

She didn't feel like something from the dark side but I kept my blasting rod pointed at her all the same. Sometimes you just couldn't tell.

"B-buffy?" A second later, my apprentice rushed past me and all but threw herself at the girl, who only barely had time to drop her sword before being engulfed into a hug. I slowly lowered my weapon and waited a few seconds before impatiently clearing my throat.

"We need to get these corpses out of here," I said. A few unidentifiable bodies in an alley was one thing. If these were found, I was going to be in trouble with the law. But I couldn't exactly put them in the trunk of my car...

"We're sitting ducks on the street kid. Come on, go pick up toasty over there and put him by the other one."

I'm not sure if ducks even can sit and whether that somehow makes them more of a target... Never mind. The expressions makes no damn sense. The girls disentangled themselves, both with tear streaked eyes. The blonde girl grabbed the charred skeleton by the leg and pulled him over to his friend while I went digging through the car for the head. The streetlights above had died as a result of the magic we'd been slinging, which was probably a good thing in case we'd woken the neighbours.

I grimaced at the feel of the leathery skin of the skull as I carried it back to the rest.
Then I slashed at the air with my staff with a mutter of "Apparturum."
The new girl grabbed both the corpses and threw them in without much trouble. They probably weren't as heavy as they had been in life, being all withered, but still. She was frickin' tiny. I pointedly did not issue an invitation to her when we stepped past the threshold, but she did not seem bothered walking past it.

Willow lit up the candles with the spell I'd taught her and then settled with her friend on the couch. I remained standing, looking down on the two of them with my best stern teacher expression.

"Seems to me we have a few things that need explaining," I observed. Both girls looked uncomfortable.
"Starting with: What the fuck is she?"

Willow shrugged.

"I don't know, I-"

Buffy glared at me.

"I'm not some thing," she said protested. "And I'm also kinda sitting right here so - Hey!"

I grimaced. What I was about to do was potentially going to suck. All people born with wizard level talent get a gift called 'the sight' along in the package.
The sight, or the third eye, shows the wizard using it the true form of whatever they look upon. It shows them magic and is a pretty good way to pierce a veil or see if a place is booby trapped in the magical sense.

The downside is that whatever you see will stick in your head until the day you die, just as fresh as if you'd seen it a moment ago. Wizards who use their sight too often or for too long end up cuckoo. I closed my eyes for a moment, focused on a point between my eyebrows and then opened my sight. My apartment looked very different when looked upon with the sight. I could see the wards as brightly coloured glyphs all over the walls, ceiling and floor.

Then I looked upon Buffy... At first I saw only the girl, an uncertain and somewhat uncomfortable smile on her face where she sat. But there was more. A shadowy presence sat lurking behind her, clinging to her. It didn't feel evil, as such, just primal. It was a spirit of bloodlust and hunger of a time before the dawn of civilization bound intimately with the young girl. I shuddered, shook myself, and closed my sight. When I opened my eyes again, everything was back to normal.

"Do I pass the inspection?" Buffy asked.

"You're human," I conceded. "But that's not all you are."

Willow did not look surprised by that. Buffy confirmed with a nod.

"I'm a vampire slayer."

"A what?"

"Vampire slayer," the girl said, enunciating every syllable.

"I kill vampires, okay?" She said in the tone of voice of someone explaining to a young child that one plus one equals two. "And demons, sometimes."

I looked to my apprentice. She hadn't talked a lot about her life back in California, but she had mentioned a friend she'd known for about six months before leaving. This was probably that friend, then.

"Do you trust her?"

Willow nodded, which was as good a confirmation I was going to get for now.

"Alright. I need to go check some stuff in the lab. I'll be right back."

And so I proceeded down into my laboratory. It's not as cool as it sounds. There's no sliding bookcase and no self-destruct button. It's pretty much just a five by five concrete box under a trapdoor. I've put shelves on the walls and they're crammed with everything from a Tupperware box with depleted uranium to a jar of newt eyes. Except the shelf in the far corner of the room. That one is littered with romance novels, candles and an old playboy.

"Wake up, Bob." Oh - And a bleached human skull.

Two bright orange lights appeared in the skulls eye sockets and it's mouth opened in a yawn.

"What's up, Boss?" Bob the skull asked. He's not an actual talking skull. He's a spirit of intellect who uses the skull as home.

"What do you know about vampire slayers?"

"Plenty," Bob said dryly, as though as it should've been obvious. "Why?"

"Because I've got one visiting. Are they dangerous?"

"Oh, very," Bob said, merrily. "If you're a monster, that is. They're a construct designed to kill vampires."

My eyes widened.

"Like The Archive?"

"Sort of. When one slayer dies, another girl is called to take her place and the power flows into her."

"That's brilliant." I thought on it some more. "And cruel."

"Yepp," Bob agreed. "Do I get to meet her?"

"Absolutely not."

I was about to open up the trapdoor when I heard voices from upstairs. Slayers might be meant to kill the things that went bump in the night but that didn't mean they were all good guys. The best way to make sure my apprentice remained safe would be to listen in. Admittedly, that borderlined on creepy, but it was the best solution I could come up with.

"What's up with the coats, anyway? Looks you're auditioning for The Matrix."

"They're bullet-proof," Willow explained, then sighed. "And what the heck is The Matrix?"

A few moments of silence followed.

"We thought you'd gotten yourself killed, did you know that?" Buffy's voice was gentle, but there was note of accusation to it.

"No, I didn't," Willow said softly. "I left a note and everything. You got the note, right?"

"A note." Buff repeated, louder. "A note you might have left even if you'd gotten turned."

She drew in a sharp breath before continuing.

"God damn it, Will. I tore through all of Sunnydale every night for two weeks, looking for you. I thought you were dead or- Or worse."

My apprentice remained quiet.

"Why did you leave?"

The silence stretched out for ten or fifteen more seconds before Willow answered.

"I was no good to you the way I was."

More silence followed and when Buffy spoke, her voice was thicker, as though she was about to cry.

"You didn't need to change anything, Will. You were fine just the way-

"I wanted to help you," Willow interrupted. "I read some of the watcher journals. I know what a slayer's life expectancy is - and - and I want to help you. I-"

"I'm not some damsel in distress, Will."

Her tone of voice was light, joking. Willow's response sounded hollow.

"And I'm not a prince." She took a slow shuddering breath. "I know."

Another silence stretched on. I was about to open up the trap door when Buffy spoke again.

"I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"Y-yeah."

"You can tell me, you know. Uh- You didn't kill anyone, right?"

Willow laughed bitterly. "No."

"And you're not going to tell me?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes."

"Really, really?" Willow asked, a bit of heat in her voice.

"Yes!" Buffy insisted. "Just tell m-"

The last word was muffled the sound of lips meeting. There was a sound of surprise from Buffy.

"I'm sorry," My apprentice said. "I didn't mean to- I can't believe I- I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Will. Just kinda -uh - took me by surprise. I had no idea you were-"

She didn't seem to find the word she was looking for and sighed.

"It's okay," she repeated. "No harm done."

I hadn't often heard my apprentice crying and I decided I didn't want to hear it any more if I could prevent it. She cried and Buffy made soft shushing sounds. Over the few minutes it took for them to quiet down, thoughts congealed while I felt like a complete idiot.

I'd wondered many times who the angel was, the one I'd seen when I'd soulgazed Willow.
And here she was. The reason Willow pushed herself so hard to learn to control her gift.
I opened up the trapdoor and found both girls still in a tight embrace. They parted and both looked at me, their eyes glistening with tears.

"Are you okay, kid?" I asked, keeping my voice soft. She nodded, putting on a brave face.
She'd never been very good at it and I'd never called her on it.

"If you want to talk later, we'll do that, okay?" Another nod. I turned to Buffy.

"We've had a lot of monsters getting killed and I'm guessing you're the one we've got to thank for that."

"Maybe," she said, a grim little smile touching her lips.

"And those vampires tonight make it the second time they've tried to kill us in two days. I don't know about you guys, but I'm thinking we've upset someone."

Willow smiled uncertainly and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"There's a black court vampire in town," Buffy said. "Whenever I've gotten close, it's sent minions at me and rabbited."

I thought about that for a moment. The Black Court had been nigh extinct after the publication of Bram Stoker's novel, in which all their weaknesses were laid out. But those that survived were the sneakiest of the bunch, the most dangerous. At first I would've said that an attack like the one earlier was out of character for them, but not if the attackers were cat's paws. Had it not for Buffy's intervention, the vampire would've ripped my head off.

Which left me with the question of who'd want me dead. As far as the Black Court was concerned, there was only one suspect. Mavra. Not only did Mavra have all the freaky vampire powers of the Black Court, she was also good enough at magic to probably have made the White Council. If she hadn't been a walking corpse and all.

"Do you know which Black Court vampire we're dealing with?" Buffy asked.

I considered her for a moment, then said. "Mavra."

She frowned. "Oh. That's not good."

Willow looked back and forth between the both of us.

"It isn't?" She asked in a small voice.

"No," I said. "She's very dangerous."

"You've fought her?" Buffy asked, eyes wide.

"Briefly," I replied, wincing. I'd met Mavra at a masquerade ball a few years back and she was not the kind of thing you wanted after you.

"She's got some serious magical juice and she's smart."

"I don't think I can take one of their elders," Buffy said.

"She's not one of their elders," I cut in. "If she was, people would be using words like 'obliterate' or 'annihilate' to describe how she'd already killed us."

Willow's face lost some colour.

"But the Black Court elders are all dead. Supposedly, anyways." I shrugged.

For thousands of years, the Black Court of vampires had been one of the supernatural communities superpowers, second only to the fairy courts and the White Council. Then information in the shape of Bram Stoker's Dracula had been spread and less than a hundred years later, the black court was all but gone. Humanity, when frightened and armed with the right weapons, is a force not even the nigh-godlike beings of the supernatural community would want to provoke. Buffy looked from me to Willow.

"I suppose none of us want to sit and wait for them to try to whack us again, huh?"

There were no objections and she continued.

"Then we should move on them the moment the sun rises."

I stifled a sigh. I was going to have to ask Bob and considering the mood he'd been in lately, I was probably going to need to pay him to go on a scouting mission. But if he asked for one of those Japanese comics again, I was going to have to put my foot down. There were some things not even a wizard should have to see. I was saved of the bother when the phone rang. I strode over and snatched it up.

"Dresden," I muttered into the receiver.

There was static on the other line, but I recognized Murphy's voice over it.

"Harry," there was a hurried almost desperate quality to her voice. "Are you home? I need your help right now."

I hadn't heard her this worried since - pretty much ever.

"Yeah, I'm at home. What's-?"

"Don't go anywhere. I'm coming over."

She hung up. I frowned severely at the phone.

"Murphy?" Willow asked tentatively.

I grunted an affirmative.

"Trouble?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to shift my brain into thinking gear. "Sounded like it."

I walked around the house and picked up my staff and blasting rod. I put both of them against the comfy chair Willow occupied. Then I went for my ritual gear. It's pretty basic stuff. Candles, a few lumps of chalk, matches, a container of salt and a swiss army knife. Along with some basic ingredients, that's enough to do a surprising amount of thaumaturgy.

Then came the waiting. That's usually the worst part but this time around, there wasn't much of it. Within ten minutes, Murphy's car crunched on the gravel outside my apartment and I stood ready to open the door when she knocked.

"Come on, Dresden," Murphy said the moment I saw her. "I'll explain in the car."

"I need to know, Murph. To get the proper gear and all that.

She ran a head through her hair, a gesture of impatience and frustration.

"There's a kidnapping situation and they're sending in SWAT. I tried to take control of the operation, but they went over my head. They're breaching in twenty minutes. It's down in the sewers Harry and I have a very bad feeling about it."

A shiver went down my spine. The pieces were falling together. Vampires trying to hit me had to hide somewhere. They needed food and would probably keep it alive to have a supply ready. The sewers were an ideal location for them to hide.

"I think that could very well be our vampires, Murph. If SWAT go in, it's going to be a massacre."

Behind me, Willow and Buffy were getting up. The slayer strapped the sheath to her back and pulled the coat over it.

"Which is why we probably shouldn't stand here talking about it."

I nodded in agreement.

"No, of course not. I need to get garlic and-"

"I've got it in the car already," Murphy interrupted.

"Oh. Okay. Good."

I turned to Willow. She looked scared, but determined. And young. Much too young for this. She wasn't ready to fight the black court vamps with other people around who she could hurt if she lost control.

"You're staying," I told her, even as I moved aside to let Buffy walked past me.

The slayer hesitated outside of the door, watching. Surprise flicked across my apprentices features, quickly followed by stubborn determination.

"But-" She began.

"No," I interrupted. It wasn't often that I had to repeat myself to her. In point of fact, it was probably only the second time.

"You're strong, kid. You've got a lot of talent, but you're not ready for this."

Tears welled up in her eyes and I suddenly hated myself.

"Sorry," I said, voice softer. I wished I could've spent more time explaining myself, but there wasn't any to spare. I shut the door behind me and headed for the car.

"Who's the girl, Dresden?" Murphy asked as we headed up the stairs.

I considered the question. It wasn't like it was a secret and I'd given up keeping any of those from Murphy anyways. Getting beaten unconscious by a five feet blonde will do that to you.

"She can handle herself."

Murphy shook her head and as we got into the car.

"Jesus. What is it with you and all these young girls, Dresden?"

I pointedly ignored her. Not because I lacked a retort, but because I was more mature.

"What's the sitch?" Buffy asked from the backseat.

There was a pause as Murphy put the emergency lights on and drove straight through an intersection.

"Rudolph tattled about a possible hostage situation before I could bring you in. The bigwigs got a hard-on about it and decided to go in guns blazing. I tried to postpone until morning, but they wouldn't listen. Fucking Rudolph."

The cops at SI were a close knit bunch, even more so than cops in general, which said quite a bit. Rudolph had gotten exiled there by sleeping with the wrong congressman's daughter and had tried to brownnose his way out ever since.

"Fucking Rudolph," I concurred.

We drove to one of the marinas by Lake Michigan. SWAT had already arrived by the time we did and stood gathered in a loose circle. The team leader, a large blonde man with a receding hairline and a hawkish nose, stood in the centre of that circle shouting orders. Some distance away, a dozen SI cops were gearing up.

I was about to ask Murph how we'd get Buffy past the other cops, but the slayer had already disappeared. I could still hear her breathing at my side, but other than that, there was no sign of her being there. Murphy completely ignored the man in charge of the SWAT team, walking past him to her colleagues. He clearly did not take kindly to that attitude and came stomping over.

"Murphy. About fucking time you got here."

She scowled and the fact that he didn't back down impressed me.

"I needed to touch up my make up," she said, teeth showing. "What's the plan, Andersen?"

Andersen scowled at her.

"The sewer opens up into the river over there." He pointed towards the water's edge.

"You go through there. There's a hub a few buildings over that leads down. That's where we'll breach. They'll be pinned between us."

Murphy nodded. She looked at me, then at Andersen. He gave her a level look.

"Fuck that. He's not going with us. If you want to bring a civilian down there, it's on your head."

His gaze swept over the SI cops, most of whom had brought crosses and enough garlic to make themselves necklaces. Murphy made sure everyone carried holy water balloons, too.

"Christ, Karrin." Andersen shook his head and walked off.

For a moment, I was about to ask Buffy to go along with the SWAT team under the cover of whatever veil she was using. Then I imagined the reaction of a bunch of scared men and women carrying semi-automatics at a stranger appearing with a sword out of nowhere and thought better of it.

"Alright, let's go."

We moved down in the sewers. Here's a fun fact. Garlic does not compliment the smell of sewage. At all. I had chosen my favourite sneakers in honour of the occasion and they were already beyond saving.

"This sucks," I grumbled.

I took the lead, holding my pentacle amulet up to illuminate the sewers. The thought was that any slobbering nightmare that came at us, I would repel it with a shield. Then I'd drop the barrier and let the SI officers deal with the hopefully stunned monster. Buffy brought up the rear, the sword in her hand glinting in my wizard's light. We'd been walking for about a minute when the sound of gunshots cut through the sloshing sound of us trudging through the muck.

I focused my will into a shield that covered the entire sewer. It was dark and friendly fire isn't all that friendly when it hits you in the face. There were screams the rate of fire escalated. Bullets struck my shield in sparks of blue that sent ripple-like circles out from the point of impact.

"Don't shoot," I called at them over the thundering sound of gunfire.

At first I thought it was another bullet that hit my shield. But it wasn't. It was a child. If I hadn't been focused on keeping up the shield, I am pretty sure I would've thrown up. In one sense, it was a human boy. Six or seven years old. But it's skin was sunken now and waxy. It looked like a month old corpse. It banged it's tiny hands against my shield with enough force to punch straight a human body, despite it's size.

It's mouth was open and the teeth displayed were stained with blood.

"What is that, Harry?" Murphy called, the gun shaking in her hand.

"Some fucked up shit," I replied. "Buffy. Come here."

The shield was spread over a large area and even against one black court vampire, I couldn't keep it up forever. Buffy's face was pale and twisted in a nauseated grimace, but she nodded. I dropped the shield and the little vampire's body hit me even as Buffy got it. I managed to turn my body so that the duster got in between it and me, but the impact still drove me off my feet and face-first into the muck.

It's head landed next to me and I stared at it's empty eyes for a while. I dully noted that I probably should raise the shield again... But there wasn't any guns going off anymore. Which was either good... Or really bad. Considering the kind of day I'd been having, I didn't feel like making bets on which. I got up with the help of Murphy and another SI officer, a kid who I swear still had a few pimples.

"Let's go."

I raised the shield again and we set off at a brisk pace. We didn't have to move far to find the SWAT team. They were dead or making the final approach. Dark shapes sat by or on top of them, feasting. In the corner, somebody small sat huddled. I dropped the shield when we were twenty yards away and the SI officers let the vampires have it, tossing their water balloons at them.

I didn't have any, so I let loose with a gout of fire about a foot wide. The result was messy. One balloon hit a yard short, two landed in the water, and a few others landed in the middle of the downed swat team and feasting vampires, setting them alight with silver flame. The last three were vaporized by the fire I had called and the vampires caught fire like they'd been drenched in gasoline, screaming raspy screams as they charged us in a blind rage.

Two of them were children of the same age as the first, judging by their size. They all fell into the water before they'd made it half-way. The last one had been an adult woman at some point. It was hard to make out any more details considering she was half-rotted. And on fire. Buffy stepped forward. She dodged to the side, away from a clawing right hand, cutting the limb off at the middle of the bicep as she did.

The vampire raked at her with the other arm, not even slowing down and Buffy ducked low, before severing the thing at the level of it's waist. Black court vampires aren't easy to kill. Desperately injured it might be, but it was still alive. It tried to get up with only one arm to do it until Buffy finally cut it's head off. I followed her as she moved across the sewer and did the same to the rest of the vampires. When she was done, she stood stiffly, facing the darkness. I considered talking to her, the kid I'd seen earlier took priority.

She was still sitting there, sobbing quietly, face more or less hidden in her hands and behind long dark hair. She was the same age as the others with a dark complexion and long black hair. I tried to keep my voice as gentle as possible.

"Hey."

She opened her eyes, lowered her hands and looked at me with huge brown eyes.

"A-Are you going to hurt me?"

She had an accent I couldn't quite place. African, maybe? I tried to smile in a reassuring manner.

"No. I'm going to get you out of here. Is that okay?"

She nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

I reached out and after a moments hesitation, she took my hand. We walked back towards the mouth of the sewage drain. The little girl stumbled a few times until I finally knelt down. My clothes were a lost case and I was too tired to care about it any longer. For a few seconds, she seemed to consider it. Then she stepped closer. She was a bit cold and I tried to wrap as much of my duster around her as much as I could. We got out of the sewers and the fresh air was almost a narcotic pleasure to breathe in.

"What's your name, honey?"

She removed her head from the crook of my neck where she'd been resting it and looked at me.

"Genina," she said. "What's yours?"

I set her down. "Harry Dresden."

"Well, Harry Dresden."

I was suddenly aware that something was wrong. Very, very, wrong. Her voice sounded different. It was the same child's voice, but it lacked the naivety, fear or innocence that had been there before. Her entire expression had changed. Her eyes were cold and empty.

She smiled at me. Though it was only a smile in the technical sense. There were none of the emotions supposed to be behind an actual smile there. On pure instinct, I jerked backwards and onto my butt, raising my shield all around me. I could smell decay, now. It just shouldn't have been possible. I'd held her in my arms without noticing a thing. The child kept smiling.

"Good bye, Mr Dresden."

And with that, she simply disappeared. I reached out with my senses, but couldn't sense anything magical or out of the ordinary around. The illusion magic had been perfect and completely indistinguishable. I doubted anybody on the White Council could do it that well. I dropped the shield. If she'd wanted to kill me, she could have. Really, why hadn't she? The thought kept me busy all the while I drove back home. Buffy sat stiffly and did not speak a word. Willow all but assaulted Buffy the moment she stepped through the door, stopping short at Buffy's held out hand.

"I- I need-" She looked at me. "Can I borrow the shower?"

I considered her for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

She showered and returned a couple of minutes later dressed in Willow's clothes. The two of them exchanged a look and I decided it was probably best for me to shower too and let them talk. When I'd gotten cleaned and dumped both mine and Buffy's clothes, I was going to hang out with Jack Daniels until I passed out.

Willow hadn't had a very good week.

When Buffy returned from the shower, she didn't look much better. She smelled better, at least, but she seemed like she was about to break into a thousand small pieces. Willow patted the empty seat in the couch and the slayer gingerly made her way over.

"What happened?" She asked softly.

Tears began to make their way down the blonde's cheeks and Willow slipped an arm around her trembling shoulders. It took a while for Buffy to speak, but when she did, her voice shook as badly as the rest of her.

"They'd turned children, Will. A whole bunch of them."

Willow didn't know what to say to that. She really hadn't a clue. So she did the only thing she could think of and pulled Buffy into a hug. Her friend accepted the embrace and held on so desperately that Willow almost had trouble getting air.

"I killed them," Buffy whimpered in between sobs. "And I know they weren't human anymore, that it doesn't make any sense to feel bad about it but-"

"It makes perfect sense," Willow said. She pulled back enough to look at Buffy.

The blonde's face was a bit puffy and her eyes were red from crying. Even so, Willow's stomach still flipped with excitement at being so close.

"Shh..." She put her fingers against Buffy's lips for a moment. She could still remember how they tasted of peach lip gloss.

Tears still ran down Buffy's face and Willow brushed a few away. Their eyes met for a moment and Willow quickly looked away.

"What can I do to help?"

Buffy bit her lip when she thought about it, which looked positively adorable. There had to be something wrong with her. How could she both want to comfort a friend in pain and want to jump her bones at the same time?

Buffy shrugged.

"Nothing."

There had to be something she could do. Despite all the hard work she'd put herself through she'd been useless in the fight. Learning magic was not as easy as she had thought and it was taking longer than she'd planned. Buffy was already past the average life expectancy of a slayer and Willow wasn't sure she dared wait much longer.

"Are you sure?" Willow asked almost desperately. "I could make some tea. Or food."

Buffy managed a tired smile.

"Tea would be nice. Not so sure about food right now."

Willow put some water in a kettle and lit up the wood burning stove. Being a wizard was kinda cool, but it meant that any tech would go haywire around her. Older stuff was more reliable, but not entirely so. Taking risks with stuff that could go boom was way down on hers and Harry's list of things to do, hence the wood burning stove. By the time the tea was done, Harry came walking in a fresh set of clothes and a bottle of bourbon. Willow raised her eyebrows at him.

"I figured I'd pass out on the couch," he said sheepishly. "Bed's bigger. You can have it."

"Oh." Willow tried not to blush at the prospect of sharing a bed with Buffy. It didn't go very well "Yeah, okay."

They both walked to the bedroom a little while later and by that time, Harry had already gotten started on his whisky. Willow's mouth went dry as they walked to the bedroom. She sipped at the tea, but it didn't help much. It was a mix of relief and disappointment when she remember that the bed was pretty big and would easily be enough for two people to share without the need for closeness.

"I don't want you in this fight." Buffy said later, when most of the tea had been drunk.

Willow tried her best scowl. It didn't seem to phase Buffy any.

"Tough," she said instead. "I'm already in it."

Her attempt to look away in dismissal didn't work very well either, because Buffy grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around so that they were face to face. Their eyes locked again for a dangerous second until Willow focused her attention on Buffy's cute nose instead.

"Then get out," Buffy said. Her features softened. "Please?"

Well, damn it. The puppy dog look wasn't fair. The trembly bottom lip just served to make it even more irresistible.

"I- I can't, okay?" Willow cupped both sides of Buffy's face in her hands and immediately regretted the gesture. Her friend's skin was soft and warm.

Willow pulled back, lay down on the soft bed and closed her eyes, going through all the focus exercises Harry had taught her. Buffy lay down next to her a few moments later. It probably wasn't on purpose, but their arms touched.

"How are things back in Sunnydale?" She asked after a few minutes of silence.

A very faint smile touched the corner of Buffy's mouth.

"Same. Lots of weird stuff happening. There've been two demons rampaging and a few vampires trying to take over since you left - oh - and worst of all, Giles has a girlfriend."

Willow managed a little smile of her own.

"Who?"

"Jenny Calender. The computer science teacher."

Willow definitely remembered her. She'd loved working with computers before it had become impossible for her to be near one. Whether a very pretty teacher had been a part of that, she'd rather not go into details about.

"Good for Giles," she commented. "How- How're my parents?"

For just a moment, the expression on Buffy's face turned sour.

"They moved a month after you left."

Willow understood.

"They went to the police and filed a missing person's report and then they didn't do anything else, huh?"

Buffy muttered something acid sounding under her breath, but nodded.

"Pretty much." She moved a bit closer and leaned her cheek against Willow's shoulder.

"Giles misses you, though," the slayer continued. "He didn't say so, but I know he does."

Giles would be way too British to admit it, of course.

"How's your mom?" Willow asked.

"Fine."

"School?"

Buffy grimaced.

"Sucks without you," she said. "I almost flunked math andhistory."

Willow smiled fondly at the memory of their many late night study sessions. They spoke for another hour about unimportant things, until their eyes got heavy with fatigue. The sky outside was the purple-ish hue that signalled dawn was on the way and Willow drew the curtains when she'd gotten back from brushing her teeth. When they lay under the covers a few minutes, Willow tried her very best to think of nothing, to make her mind blank and fall asleep. Thoughts about how good Buffy smelled or how nice it felt to have her snuggled up close did not help. Nor did the painfully clear memory of her friend stripping down to her underwear and a tank-top. The very thought sent a delicious shudder through her body.

"Are you freezing?" Buffy wondered sleepily and snuggled closer.

Oh for crying out loud... Willow groaned quietly as heat spread down her belly and lower.

"M'fine, Buffy," she mumbled back. "Go to sleep."

When she finally did fall asleep, the vivid fantasies were replaced by even more vivid dreams of a decidedly X-rated variety.

She woke up uncomfortably warm and sweaty. It took her a moment to realize that something had changed. She'd fallen asleep on her back, but she was on her side now and pressed flush against Buffy's back. Somehow, she'd snuck a hand inside her friends shirt and currently had a perfect handful of boob in her palm. Willow gulped and slowly withdrew the hand. Buffy chuckled. Uh-oh. She was so screwed.

"I wondered how long it'd take you."

Willow moved away from her friend so quickly that she almost fell out of the bed.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how that-"

She wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or even more worried when Buffy laughed.

"It's okay," she choked out between laughs. "The look on your face-"

It took her half a minute to get herself together, time in which Willow had a perfectly good of her smooth flat stomach where her tank top had ridden up. There was some jiggling going on too, which did not at all help her efforts of cooling down.

"You should probably get a cold shower or something," Buffy said finally, giving Willow a once-over. For maybe half a second, Willow could've sworn she saw a curious glint in her friends eyes. Then it was gone and she shrugged it off as something she'd imagined. Willow swallowed.

"Shower- Yeah, that'll probably be good."

Buffy nodded with a wry smile and proceeded to get dressed while Willow headed for the cool sanctuary of the shower. By the time she returned, Buffy stood waiting in fresh clothes with her black sports bag packed and waiting on the made bed. Willow felt the smile slip off her face.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Will," Buffy said. "But you know what Sunnydale's like. If I don't get back there soon the whole place is gonna be a crater or something."

She hesitated for a second, then walked up and wrapped her arms around Willow's bare shoulders.

"Call me, okay?"

She kissed Willow on the cheek and walked out the door. It got kind of silent when she'd left. Willow sat on the bed for a little while. Then she got dressed and walked out to check on Harry.

"Hey." She nudged his knee with her foot and he stirred.

"What?" He mumbled groggily.

Willow went over to the icebox and got two cans of coke, handing one to Harry.

He took a few sips, then held the can to his forehead with a blissful expression.

"So?" Willow inquired. "What happened?"

"No clue, kid." He stood up and stretched, joints popping as he did.

"The ghouls could've been working for Red Court or somebody else we've pissed off. Or someone your friend pissed off. The Black Court vamps might've been sent by Mavra. I really don't know."

He rubbed his forehead. "There was another vampire but I don't think she was there to kill me. She had a shot at it, but she just left."

He shrugged, then looked in the direction of the bedroom.

"Did your friend leave?"

Willow wasn't sure whether she imagined a subtle emphasis on the word 'friend'. Maybe she was just being paranoid.

"Yeah. What about the kid we were looking for?"

Harry grimaced. "There wasn't anything left to compare with."

Willow avoided his gaze. She needed to get out get some air.

A walk seemed like a good idea. It usually helped her get her thoughts together. Willow grimaced as a cold wind swept in and pulled her coat closer to her body. It wasn't going to be a very long walk, that was for sure. The weather in Chicago sucked. She stuck her hands down her pockets instead of walking back to get her gloves. It wasn't until she felt the cold metal against her fingers that she recalled the ugly little coin she'd found the previous night. A pricking sensation shot up her arm like she'd fallen asleep on it.

"Willow," a soft feminine voice whispered. Willow flinched and turned around, rod out and ready to blast the speaker to tiny slimy bits. There was nobody around.

"Willow..."

Oh wow. Willow wasn't sure what, but something bad had just happened. Willow steered her steps towards a coffee house, ordered a cup of coffee from the acne-plagued kid serving, and sat down with it at a corner table. All the while, the voice whispered her name. Then, quite suddenly, it stopped. Willow relaxed a little and sipped the coffee. Maybe the sexual frustration of the last twenty-four hours was driving her loopy?

"Hello, Willow."

Willow's hand once more shot down towards her hip where she had the rod. But it was just a woman. A lovely, statuesque blonde in a pair of blue jeans and a rather tight black t-shirt.

"Erm- Hi?" Willow said back. She did not let go of the rod. "What do you want?"

The blonde smiled and took a seat next to Willow.

"Only to help."

Willow narrowed her eyes.

"Who are you?" A sudden intuition struck her. "What are you?"

The woman smiled more broadly and broad black wings extended six feet in either direction. Nobody else in the shop seemed to have noticed.

"My name is Lasciel." She bowed her head in an unmistakable sign of supplication. "How may I be of assistance?"

Yepp. Suckiest week ever.