"Well," I said. "First day of business. Are you ready for this? Ready to get some mileage out of your shiny new investigator's badge? See what it's like for a real detective."

"Ha, ha, Dresden," Murphy responded dryly. "Whenever you needed someone to do real investigating, you looked me up anyway."

"Well, yeah," I said. "Otherwise I'd end up in handcuffs."

Murphy gave me a side-long and playful glare as we walked into the office and headed up the stairs.

At least I hope it was playful.

Walking up the stairs to the fifth floor might sound like something only a health nut would do, but given my past history with elevators, it's usually safer for me to take the stairs. Wizards tend to be a bit hard on surrounding technology.

Which doesn't say anything about being a health nut. Trust me, there are health nut wizards. I took a bite out of my granola bar.

"When did you become a...masochist, I think you called it?" Murphy asked, smirking at me.

"The donuts are all under a veil," I grumbled.

Health-nut wizards make very annoying apprentices, by the way.

So, here it was. I was getting Murphy as an investigative partner, God have mercy on my soul, officially in addition to unofficially. I was rounding the corner to get a first look at the frosted window for our office.

It was supposed to read something like this:

Quote

Karrin Murphy : Harry Dresden
Investigator : Wizard

We were listed somewhat separately in the phone book, I wasn't giving up my Wizard ad and she didn't want it coloring people who came to her. So...two ads. Twice the people, twice the advertising.

Couldn't hurt.

"What the hell?" Murphy snapped angrily. "Dresden do you have an answer for this?"

Broken out of my reverie, I turned to look at the sign that Murphy was now gesturing towards.

Quote

Harry and Karrin Murphy-Dresden
Investigator : Wizard

My mouth hung open. Okay, that was a huge mistake.

"Don't look at me," I protested quickly. "That's not what I ordered."

Murphy glowered at me as she pulled out her key and started opening the office before pushing into the office.

"Well, you'd better get it fixed," she said firmly. "The last thing we need is people..."

"...talking," I finished for her as I looked over her shoulder.

Well, I was actually looking over her head, I'd have to scrunch down to look over her shoulder, but let's not say that out loud.

There was a table just inside the office where I planned to put my usual array of informative brochures on magic and the supernatural. Murph had her own brochures she wanted to write up for more basic concerns. In any case, the table was filled for the moment. Apparently our friends had been by to leave a selection of business-warming presents.

There was a nice set of small pizza-slice sized plates and bowls sized for most cans of sphagetti-os or chili, a coffee machine (someone must have snuck that past Molly), his and hers coffee mugs, dish clothes, a matching set of nice wooden chopsticks for each of us, a microwave, can-opener, a blender.

There was a blender.

What the hell had I ever done with a blender?

I'd never been married before, but I sort of recognized what was going on. Murphy's been married twice, and she was just about to turn purple.

"Dresden?" she grumbled.

"Not me, Murph," I declared quickly. "I swear, not me."

"What the hell am I going to do with a blender?" Murphy demanded, lifting the aforementioned package.

"You're asking me?" I responded as I took the package from her and looked it over, finding a note. " 'Fruit blends are good for you, Boss.'"

"Molly," Murphy noted.

"Molly," I agreed.

"That's one on the list then," she noted grimly, picking up a three ring binder. "What's thi..."

I looked at what she was reading and gasped.

"Murphy, does that say those are your mother's recipes?" I asked hopefully.

"Yes," Murphy said dryly.

"Your mother's to die for, Faerie Queens couldn't do better, food?" I asked, running headlong into the danger.

"Yes," Murphy said, turning up to glare at me.

I winced as her eyes started to turn toward me.

"Err...umm."

King of expression here.

"Right," I finally said. "Who else."

"This one says 'to relieve the tension'," the tiny, dangerous woman said, picking up a plain white box.

We both stared at it for a long, long minute before coming to an agreement as to who it was likely from.

"Thomas," we said together.

And we carefully set that package away unopened.

"'The Za-Lord and the Lady Knight-in-Exile, what the?" Karrin wondered as she held an empty box that had probably once contained pizza.

"The Little Folk," I explained.

"Oh right," she said. "'Za-Lord's Guard Salary' on your monthly balance sheet."

I lifted a Bible up and glanced over to her, cocking an eyebrow.

"Michael," she said, agreeing with my own assessment as she lifted a photo album full of my mug shots and a large number of photos of me standing with Murphy at crime scenes. "Oh...someone's been planning this little joke a long time."

"When did our friends become such wise-asses?" I asked in a grumble as she set down the photo album and walked toward the phones and the paperwork nearby.

"From you," she responded. "It has to be contagious. Hey, Harry, did you get a custom phone number?"

"No," I said, searching through the piles of admittedly useful tongue-in-cheek gifts. "Not really worth it, why?"

"Because the paperwork here says they installed one," she said. "547-7464."

I froze and wondered how long it would be before Murphy realized what that represented. Turning about slowly, I watched her staring at the paper in confusion that was slowly giving way to the simmering fury I feared and loved so much.

"K - I - S - " she started to say.

"S - I - N - G," I finished.

"Okay, first case," she said grimly. "We have several murders to get to."

"Solving or causing?" I wondered.

"Yes," Murphy said in a growl.