AN: Not really edited, but written just for the image of Harry running away. I'm also now on AO3 as Tzadikim. Still on tumblr as conjure-at-your-own-risk.
Disclaimer: Me? Jim Butcher? q'uest-ce what?
Title: Plan B
Word Count: 416
Summary: People actually fear this guy.
"Harry! What the hell are you doing?"
I switched the holding on my staff and extended it to get ready to bash some heads in. I widened my stance and tried not to think how much of a drop it would be if I fell off the cliff. "Gimme a second, Murph. I'm trying to save our stubborn asses."
There was the sound of clashing swords and a swearing lieutenant from Chicago. Below me on the beach, Murphy was fighting off the bad guy's men with a sword that she just so happened to own. I had no clue where she got the stuff, and it was probably better that I had no idea how she got her hands on some pretty cool weapons.
You know, being on the police force and having some illegal weapons didn't fly so well with IA. Although I'm sure an English broadsword wasn't on their list of dangerous items.
My opponent, some Black Knight wannabe wearing armor from the set of Lord of the Rings unsheathed a really big sword that went well with his menacing helmet and spiked gauntlets.
I had a stick that could spit out fire.
He had a knife on steroids.
Where was the justice?
"Um, en gard?" I said, feeling very aware of how close to the edge of the cliff I was. It was windy and I'm sure that the view of a tall guy in a swishy coat going up against old Witch King was effing fantastic. A great source of anachronism but that was my life story. See smartass wizard from modern day Chicago go up against mob bosses that have supernatural protection, necromancers with wanting to become gods, and now fighting off some pissed knights from an order of preternatural beings.
I lunged and—
My staff was cut cleanly in half. I watched as one end fell into the bedlam on the beach while I was holding the other half in my shaking hand. I looked up. "Hey, uh, rain check?"
Ol' Witch King raised his sword.
Shit.
Acting on the stupidly that's been keeping me alive for years, I chucked the broken half of my staff at his head and ran down the cliff as fast as I could to avoid further injury. "Murphy! Run away!" I shouted, groping for my mother's amulet around my neck. It was time to be Brave Sir Robert and get ourselves out of here. "Run away!"