AN:: Written on the fly while slightly feverish. For a challenge. Comments are loved and adored.
Murphy and I are fighting.
I know what you're thinking. Two headstrong detective types like Harry and Murphy are probably fighting about some case. It would be great if that were true. Some of you might even be thinking I said something stupid and pissed Murphy off. Gee thanks. I'll forgive you this time because you would be much closer to the truth. We're fighting because I tried to break up our partnership. I did it to protect her, but Connie Murphy does not like to be protected.
It went something like this:
Murphy and I were hot on the trail of this lunatic witch-wannabe who had been on a three week killing spree. We're talking nasty killings here: throats slit, blood everywhere, entrails laid out in ritual patterns around the corpses. We couldn't get anything concrete for six bodies. Six women, all of whom could be connected to local wizards, so far. Four of those happened after Murphy brought me in on the case. It took that long for our killer to get careless enough to leave behind as much as a hair for me to put together a tracking spell.
The tracking spell was a bit tricky this time because, just in case she really did have some sort of magic of her own, I didn't want her to know I was coming. That's right, "I". I wasn't about to take another woman connected to the wizarding world right up to the killer's doorstep.
Murphy tailed me.
I don't know how I missed her, but she followed me for miles across Chicago and out into the Gompers Park Wetland. Bad guys never pick pleasant places. (Why couldn't, just once, the bad guy be at a nice spa? I suppose if it was, we'd just end up in the mud baths anyway.) I nearly blasted Murphy back to the police station with my staff when I heard her rustling in some plant life behind me. I'll admit it, I was happy to see her. This was not the sort of territory best covered by a one man team. Besides, getting into a loud argument while sneaking up on an unsuspecting murderer is never the best of ideas.
The witch-wannabe had somehow managed to set up wards with what little magic she had stolen (she'd have done better to kill actual wizards for her rituals, but beggars can't be choosers), and I didn't spot them in time. Before I knew it, Murphy had a knife to her throat, and I was tied to a tree. Again.
You know how Kirmani and I are always fighting? Today, I love that guy. He had tailed Murphy, and stopped to call in the cavalry before following us into the wetland. They came in with their guns at the ready and took the witch-bitch down. Except for the part where Kirmani got to see me tied to a tree while my best friend was prepared for ritual slaughter, it was beautiful.
After a quick debrief, Murphy and I wandered over to the bar to talk over beers. We were on our second mugs when I broached the subject of it being too dangerous for Murphy to associate with me. She argued with me, but I held my ground. So she threw the rest of her beer in my lap and stormed out of the bar.
I haven't seen her in two weeks.
I miss her.