Author's Note: This is Harry Dresden from the book series, not TV. And it is based after White Night, book 9. If you haven't read that, here's your big freaking spoiler warning of Doom. Also, I've never read the season 8 Buffy comic so anything BtVS/Angel related is from what little I know that was spoken of in Angel or made up. Mostly made up!

Three weeks of searching and leaving messages on the number in his cousin's Yellow Pages ad – which Dawn had come across whilst helping Willow search – had come up with nothing. Leaving Xander to just wander around town in the hopes that he'd stumble across him.

Instead he'd ended up in what Giles would have called a bad spot of trouble. Not that it wasn't surprising for him to end up in it.

Trouble followed him like a lost puppy.

"You know," he said slowly as he took a step back, "I'm really not in the mood to get my ass kicked tonight so can you take a rain check?"

The vampire in question just smirked, delicate fangs peeking over her lips, and that made him really nervous. He'd done a bit of book delving over the past few years and had discovered that there were a few more types of vampires than people like to let on about. Black Court vampires were the kind he'd fought since high school – this one…this one was one of the other ones. But since he wasn't getting the nasty ole' sex vibe of the White Court, he was gonna go with that it was a Red.

Which meant his ass was so fucking screwed.

Xander frowned and said, "I'll take that as a 'no'. So…" His hands flashed into the long coat he'd taken to wearing to hide the weapons he usually had on him and came back with a really long blade in his left hand. The right hand gripped the handle of his .45 ACP Glock in a death grip and he hoped the damn thing wasn't going to jam up again. Last time he'd pulled it out, he'd nearly had his head taken off by a demon and had to fall back to his reliable old Smith and Wesson. "Bring it, bitch."

The vampire just smiled and said, "Now, now…you don't really want to do this, do you? All I want is just a…taste, little hunter."

"And one little taste turns into a lot more when you get your venom into me. So fuck off."

Her pretty face twisted then and Xander staggered a few steps back, the gun up and the dagger held at the ready to strike from his hip. He'd really only read about Red Court vampires so he was only half prepared for seeing what lay underneath their flesh masks. God, he hoped he didn't lose the dinner he'd just eaten…

She was suddenly in his face, something dark and slimy snarling out from under her features, and he fired on instinct. He knew the bullets he used on Black Court wouldn't do much against her since Red's weren't affected by blessed silver but, damnit, he was going to try!

Screaming in outrage – yes, that was outrage, not fear – he fired twice again right into her sickening face then turned and ran. Completely ignoring the shriek of anger from behind him and the fact that he'd essentially just shot a woman. In fact, every though process in Xander's head had shut down except for what he needed most in a fight/flight situation. He'd learned well enough how to think through fights over the years though he was still scared shitless.

Especially when he skidded around a corner and came face to face with a tall older man with greying hair tugged back into a ponytail with a short beard wielding a freaking broadsword.

"MOVE!" he roared at the man as he heard the vampire coming after him. He made a grab at the man's shoulder but didn't manage it as the guy started in the direction of the vampire. Not away.

Towards…the…vampire.

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me," snarled Xander under his breath. He briefly debated running but kicked that thought swiftly down – he didn't run if he didn't need to. Especially not if someone might get hurt because of his mistake.

So that was how he ended up running back towards the enraged Red Court vampiress, who was completely out of her flesh mask now. He slowed as he came even with the guy he'd swiftly dubbed Ponytail Lunatic, who was casually striding forward with his gray cloak flapping gently behind him. And somehow…somehow the sight of him made the vampire pause.

She ran a long tongue across her lips and hissed, "Warden."

"Yes," said the man stonily. His eyes darted towards Xander and the gun he held then back to the vampire. And before the Scooby knew it, the man was moving.

The broadsword turned into a silver blur and he could only stare as the guy went one-on-one with a vampire. And won.

"You're lucky that was a young one," said the man as he flicked the blood and ichor from his blade. He then looked coldly at him and hissed, "What does the Watcher's Council want in Chicago?"

Xander took a step back in surprise, his grip tightening on his gun. But his hand shook because…well, what threat was a gun to a guy who had taken on a freaking Red with just a sword? Then he scowled and put on what Faith had called his 'work face'.

"As of a few days back, I'd say I'm not really working with the Council. I'm here on my own business."

"What sort of business?"

"The personal kind that isn't any of your damn business," snarled Xander in response. He then felt a tendril of something in his head and jerked it to the side as the hyena reared up, snarling at the intrusion. The gun came up a moment later and Ponytail Lunatic met it with the blade of his sword at the Scooby's throat. But he did look a little impressed that Xander had managed to get his gun past his arm so the barrel rested against his throat. "And stay the fuck out of my head, mojo man."

"So noted," said the man quietly. His eyes darted past Xander and he whirled, cursing himself for forgetting his surroundings. As he saw another figure in a gray cloak coming up on him, the hilt of the broadsword snapped down on the back of his neck in a blow meant to knock him out.

But he hadn't been that easy to knock out for years.

It hurt like hell but he spun back towards the man, arcing his dagger as the guy's hip. He dodged the full force of the blow but the blade still caught his leg and drew blood, making him stumble back. Xander snarled and staggered a few steps backwards, pointing the Glock at the new figure in a cloak that'd come up behind him.

"I don't know who the hell you people are," he hissed, "or how you know about the Council, but so help me if you try that hard-handed bullshit with me again, I will so blow someone's head off."

Ponytail Lunatic scowled, one hand clasped against the wound on his leg, and thrust an arm forward. He snarled something under his breath in what sounded like gibberish and Xander acted on his instincts. Dropping to one knee, he thrust his dagger up in front of his face and hissed out a harsh word that was either demonic or really old. He'd never bothered to find out – he just knew that it worked.

At his hiss, the blood-whetted blade writhed and vanished, forming a brief barrier between him and whatever the hell the sword-wielding psycho had sent out. It ricocheted off the barrier and smashed the bricks along the side of a building in a three-foot swath into dust. As the blade returned to its normal state, Xander heaved himself upright and tried to ignore the ache starting behind his eyes.

The guy had hit him harder than he'd thought.

"Morgan!" snapped the unknown figure in the cloak, revealing itself by voice to be a woman. "That will be enough!" She then turned towards Xander and said, "We mean you no harm, truly."

"Yeah right," snarled the Scooby. "So I'm supposed to believe he's just got itchy trigger fingers? Pff. Bullshit if I ever heard it, thank you very much, ma'am!"

"Ma'am?" repeated the woman, seeming slightly confused and amused.

Xander snorted at that and replied, "Hey, I don't disrespect women unless they're demons or vampires."

"A noble virtue. Now…Morgan, put your sword away!"

"Captain…"

"Morgan, that is an order," growled the woman. The man narrowed his eyes at Xander and moved to put the blade away as he hissed, "It would be appreciated if you lowered your weapons. We only wish to talk."

"I'll put away the gun," replied Xander, doing just that as he said it. "But you're not getting this dagger out of my hand after that stunt of yours." He then looked at the woman and hissed, "Now what the heck do you people want with me? Or, a better question, who the hell are you?!"

The woman sighed and stepped out of the shadows so he could see her and he was shocked by the stark contrast of her. She looked young…but her eyes showed someone a heck of a lot older and much more capable than anyone with that young of an appearance should be.

"A question more important to me, Mister Harris," she said softly, "is why you are here when your Watcher's Council is so determined to keep to itself even now."

"How do you know my name?" he snarled, glaring at her.

"We know a great deal about the Watcher's."

Xander frowned and looked from her to Morgan and back again before hissing, "Who the hell are you people?"

"I am Captain Luccio," replied the woman in a voice full of steel as she realized he wasn't going to give her any answers. "And you have just stumbled into the war between the White Council and the Red Court."

Shit, though Xander. Giles had told him about the White Council – they were wizards and witches and nothing like the Coven or his Wills. They tended to keep to themselves but on occasion the two organizations had worked together…but those hadn't usually ended on so good a note.

"Great," he grumbled. "I waltz my way into everything." Then he swept his sweaty hair back out of his face and stared at the two, saying, "Look, I'm not with the Watcher's anymore – I didn't like how things were run. I'm here on my own looking for someone. That's it. I didn't mean to stumble into any war and I don't want any part in it."

"Good," said Luccio. "We have no need for the Watcher's to be sticking their noses into our business. Though…perhaps we can help you find who you're looking for if it will help you get out of town sooner rather than later."

"Sure," snapped Xander, willing to agree to just about anything now to find his cousin. The three weeks of hopeless searching was the main part in that. The dull pulsing at the base of his neck and the blackness constantly creeping in on his eyesight was also a nice prompt.

Morgan looked grumpily down at the woman, not liking this at all, but stayed silent. Luccio just nodded then asked, "The name?"

"Dresden," he replied, not seeing their jerks of reaction. His eyesight – already shot to hell by the fact that he only had the right one left – went dark then and he staggered as a sudden wave of nausea went through him. He opened his mouth to finish the name up but he found himself on the ground very abruptly.

Cool fingers probed at his head and throat and he heard the woman snarling something under her breath that might have been anything from a curse to a spell. In his state he couldn't bring himself to care either way. He just listened to his head pound and closed his eye, wishing the pavement underneath his cheek was a bit cooler.

And then everything went dark as he finally lost consciousness.