Disclaimer: I do not own the Dresden Files in any way, shape or form, nor am I using these characters for anything more than my own amusement.

Author's Note: This fic was co-written by my friend Snarky- I like it., and we spent an equal amount of time writing it. I only get to post this because I spent the time to type it up and proof it. She deserves as much credit as I do.

Author's Note II: Snarky- I like it and I wrote this before reading Small Favor, and we realized there are a few similarities between it and this fic. Therefore, all coincidences are purely coincidental.

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Some days, I really think the Blue Beetle hates me. The rest of the world seems to be laughing along.

I was walking, seeing as my car was out of commission for the third time this week. And, of course, it was raining. I saw my brother walking towards me, probably coming from his day job at the salon. That, at least, was fortunate, since I was heading to find him anyway; now I didn't have to walk as far. He was as underdressed for the Chicago weather as always, wearing tight black jeans and a ripped and faded t-shirt showing off strategic points of bare flesh. His converse hi-tops were probably the newest part of his outfit, still black enough to match his well-groomed and damp hair.

People were staring at him, of course. It really wasn't fair, but to be honest, I wasn't looking my best.

I was wearing an ugly shirt and too-baggy jeans that have never really fit me. My wet hair was too long and shaggy and my boots—covered in mud—weren't particularly attractive.

"What happened to you?" Thomas asked as he met me, amused.

"This mud is a pathetic excuse for earth," I grumbled as I trudged along with him.

"Looks like you went swimming in it," my brother observed. I shot him an annoyed look which he ignored, in a typical Thomas fashion. We finally stepped back into the shelter of the salon-slash-coffee shop where Thomas worked, dripping all over the place. "So, Ah-ree, what is it that you need?"

I cringed at his fake French accent, but I knew he had to keep up appearances here. So now, at least to the twenty or so people sitting in the café, we were not brothers, but gay lovers.

I'm not sure why I bother to go there anymore.

"I need your help, Thomas," I told him as if it wasn't obvious.

"Of course, of course, Ah-ree. Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private?" He asked, a note of concern in his voice. I nodded, but gave him a smile to assure him it was no big deal. We headed towards one of the café's tables that was farther in the back.

"Sure, Toe-moss," I replied with my most annoying grin. I settled back into the vinyl seat, becoming serious. "Well, Murphy's birthday is coming up…and…"

"What are you going to get her?"

"See, that's the problem. I've never really gone shopping for a woman before and I don't want to go alone." Thomas looked like he was about to burst out laughing. I couldn't blame him. It sounded lame, even to me.

"You're afraid to go shopping?"

I fumed.

"Well, if you put it that way…!"

"What about last year?" Thomas snuck in before I completely gave up on his help.

I remembered getting Murphy a bagel and some coffee on her birthday last year, during a big case. It was nothing big, and I had almost forgotten about the gesture. There hadn't really been time for anything else.

"I was busy. So was she."

Thomas nodded, only half-listening. He knew how stressful times like that were for me. Then, he grinned like a madman. "You could get her some sexy lingerie," he said with a wink.

"Thomas," I sucked in a breath, "I am not getting Murphy, my best friend, any…" I shook my head, imagining actually buying said lingerie and giving it to Murph. Trust me, it wouldn't end well. "Just no."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay Harry. Geez, it was just a suggestion!"

I scowled at him. He was starting to sound too much like Bob for his own good. Although Bob would have probably also have suggested smutty romance novels and movies involving a particular actress named Trixie Vixen.

"Harry?"

I snapped out of my horror-struck reverie.

"What?"

"I said, we could always go to the department store. Plenty of un-trendy clothes there." Really, my brother was turning out to be no help at all.

"I'm not getting Murph clothes. Besides, I don't even know what size she wears."

"How about chocolate? All girls love chocolate, it's a proven fact."

I fixed him with my most level gaze.

"I'm not a 'chocolates' kind of guy," I said. Thomas took one appraising look at my attire and agreed.

"What do you suggest then, little brother?"

"I don't know!" I threw my hands up in frustration. This was not going well. There was an awkward silence as I picked at the fancy blue tablecloth between my brother and I. When I looked back up, Thomas looked like he was expecting me to say something. "What?"

"What, Harry? You came all the way to my salon to ask me what to get your girl. Seriously, if you're going to ask what I think you're going to ask, I'm sure I could set something up," he said, motioning to the back room where the salon was located.

The thought both excited and sickened me. While I didn't really want my brother feeding on my best friend, it would be nice to see Murph look…girly for a change.

"As long as you aren't the one cutting her hair…" I said, seriously considering the offer.

"So it's settled then."

"Sure. I'll just get her one free trip to the salon."

"And…?"

"And what?" I asked, frustrated at my brother's imprecision. He rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Flowers, Harry. You're getting her flowers."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes," Thomas demanded, and I knew I couldn't fight him on this.

I supposed it wouldn't hurt.