AN: I have no inhibition whatsoever. I love these two so much.
tumblr: conjure-at-your-own-risk
Disclaimer: I can handle a belt but not any other sort of weapons training. So I'm not Jim Butcher.
Title: The Art of Harry Kicking
Word Count: 363
Summary: Friends don't hit other friends with big sticks. Unless you're Murphy.
"Ow!"
"Suck it up," Murphy told me. She was wearing a shit-eating grin while twirling a bo staff in one hand. "And look alive while you're at it. It's like I'm hitting a zombie."
I was still sucking on my bruised thumb while I made a face at her. "Na, Na." I removed my thumb. "You know, I like to think that we are amazing friends."
"Harry," she said. "Either I kick your sorry ass now, or I humiliate you more later." She got back into position, looking every inch of badassery in her gi and with that spark in her eyes. "Come at me, tall and dorky."
"But I'm trying to make this into a very special moment for us," I said. "Karrin Murphy. I am proud to call you my very best friend who would never hurt—" She swept me under with the staff and laughed as I fell. "Why can't I turn this into a sentimental moment for us?" I groaned.
"Because you're stupid pig-headedness makes it hard for you to fight me." Murphy gave my stomach a sharp poke with the end of her staff. "If you don't know how to fight then I'll be stuck buying the cheapest flowers for your hospital room. And we can't have that."
"Just for the record, I want sunflowers." I stood back up and I picked my staff off the mat. "Guess I can't have SI lost without me."
"I'm sure that the boys in blue will be fine without cracking another Harry Potter joke in your presence."
"But to think," I sighed. "Where else are you going to find another adorable consultant with amazing powers and a cool coat?"
"eBay," Murphy said as she struck me again.