For featherjean: First Aid
Title: First Aid
Author: gusthemoose
Verse: TV Verse
Characters: Harry Dresden, Connie Murphy
Recipient: featherjean
Request: Harry/Murphy (friendship, UST, RST, whatever), "She's got my back even when it's against the wall"
Word Count: 1,287
Spoilers: Mentions of Birds of a Feather (1.01) & Rules of Engagement (1.04),
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, don’t sue.
Author’s Note: I apologize to Harry for beating him up for this fic. I really should be nicer to the guy. Thanks to featherjean for the really great prompt and I hope you like it. Thanks also to my sister, who even though she's working on her senior thesis, beta-ed this for me.
----
Even stumbling under my weight, Murphy managed to shoulder the back door of my apartment open and steer me towards a chair. I would have helped, but my ankle was throbbing with pain and walking with anything other than a limp was really difficult. I dropped heavily into the chair and grimaced. Everything hurt. From the top of my head down to my little toe, I was one giant ache named Harry Dresden. I hadn’t felt this bad since the skin walker had hoisted me up like a slab of meat. Or maybe when Sirota threw me around that apartment, that had really hurt too.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” Murphy demanded.
“I’ll get it.” I started to get up, but Murphy put a hand on my shoulder and shoved me down into the seat. She might look small, but the woman was really strong. It was pretty intimidating sometimes.
“If you get up again, I’ll drag you to a hospital. No matter how much you protest.” She was lecturing me. “Now, where’s your first aid kit.”
“Upstairs, in the bathroom.”
Murphy gave me a look that clearly said “stay or else” and then went up the back stairs. Once I was sure she was out of hearing range, I let out a nice long groan. I couldn’t go to a hospital and if Murphy knew how bad I felt, that’s where she’d drag me. It’s not like I could explain to her about magic and electrical appliances. She still didn’t believe in magic. Instead, I had to pretend I didn’t hurt that much and hope she’d let it go at that. Of course, this was Murphy I was talking about and she was part bulldog.
I straightened up in my seat when she came back down the stairs. She didn’t say anything as she dragged a chair over in front of mine and then sat down. When she opened the first aid kit, I realized what she was doing.
“Murphy, it’s okay. I can handle it.”
“You couldn’t take a napkin in a fight right now, Dresden.” She took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball. In two seconds she pressed it to the cut on my cheek and I flinched.
“And hold still.”
I resigned myself to being taken care of. Murphy had that look on her face that said if I argued, she was likely to hurt me. I’d had enough of being a punching bag today, so I let my shoulders slump and tried to stay still while everything started to sting on top of aching. It wasn’t terrible as it could have been though. It seemed to me that Murphy was being extra careful while she dabbed and put a pad of gauze over my cheek.
“You’re pretty good at this.”
“You need to go to the hospital.” Murphy said, moving on to start on the cut above my eyebrow. I flinched and try to get away from the stinging antiseptic. I really hated the stuff.
“And hold still.”
“Sorry.” I mumbled. I’d been mumbling the whole conversation, it was hard to speak with my lip split and swollen. Murphy still managed to understand me though. “I don’t list hospitals. I’ll be fine. It’s just a few bruises.”
She gave me a look that clearly said she thought I was an idiot and kept up the first aid. Right now, I was pretty grateful for that. Most of the time I have to patch myself up, with Bob standing over me rattling off instructions. It’s not fun. Not that Murphy patching me up was a wonderful experience, but she was patient with my squirming and hadn’t lectured me. Yet.
“Thanks for saving me.” I said, trying to enunciate each word carefully so that she’d hear that they were genuine.
“You’re welcome.” Finished with the cotton ball she set it down and picked up a bandage. “What were you doing going after that guy on your own, Harry? SWAT had it under control.”
There was no way SWAT could have handled a man possessed by the cannibalistic spirit of a Wendigo, but Murphy didn’t want to hear that story again. Through this whole case, she’d been trying to ignore me and my Wendigo story. I was pretty used to her skepticism now, though sometimes I thought about showing her the truth. Murphy would never believe unless she saw proof of magic. The Council would kill me and probably her though. So, we kept struggling through as hard working cop and crazy wizard consultant.
I shrugged a shoulder, immediately regretting it as it hurt. Murphy gave me the idiot look again, but there was a certain amount of affection in it. At least I was a loveable idiot. I gave a small, sheepish smile in return and all was forgiven. It was nice, not having to say a word and still be understood.
“I thought I could handle it.” And I would have handled it, except the Wendigo knew I was coming and without the element of surprise I lost a lot of my advantage. While the Wendigo looked like skin and bones, someone you could easily snap in half, he had thrown me around the apartment like I weighted nothing, in a very Sirota-esque manner. Hench all the lovely shades of blue and purple my body was slowly turning and the red stains on my clothes.
“Yeah, right.” Murphy carefully set the bandage over the cut and smoothed it down, mindful of the cut underneath it. “You sure handled it.”
I hunched my shoulders a little, embarrassed, grumpy and hurting. I really could have handled it. I had everything I needed to exorcise the Wendigo and send it back to the Nevernever. Murphy sighed at my body language.
“Don’t sulk.” She muttered, “You look like a kicked puppy. You’re not Superman, Harry. You’re a good investigator and you’re really good at finding people but you’ve got to stop throwing yourself into dangerous situations without thinking.”
“Aw shucks, Murphy, I didn’t know you care.” I was just teasing, but Murphy wasn’t in the mood.
“You’re my friend. Of course I care.”
“You’re my friend too, Murphy.”
She smiled, actually smiled and then pointed a finger at me. “Don’t think this lets you off the hook for doing something stupid and dangerous. I’ve still got to explain how you found the guy before we did to my captain. Any hints on that?”
“Trade secret, Murph. Sorry.”
She sighed, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
I wonder sometimes just how much trouble I really bring to Murphy’s life. I know things are difficult. I’m a wizard, I just have that effect on things, but Murphy doesn’t share a lot about her work and just what I bring to the table. She was going to bat for me over this, something she had probably done in the past. Sitting there, letting Murphy take care of me, I realized something. Being Murphy’s friend was something really special. We don’t have a real equal relationship, but she's got my back even when it's against the wall.
“Dresden? What’s with the look? Do you have a concussion?”
Once again snapped out of my revelation, I focused back on Murphy. She looked a little wary, but still mostly concerned. Just what sort of look had I given her? I was pretty sure it wasn’t the type of look you’re supposed to give a friend and colleague. Whoops. My secret was out. At least I had an excuse I could use to get out of it.
“Me? A concussion? Come on, my head’s thicker than that.”
“Right.” Murphy sighed heavily. “You really should be in a hospital, Dresden.”
Author: gusthemoose
Verse: TV Verse
Characters: Harry Dresden, Connie Murphy
Recipient: featherjean
Request: Harry/Murphy (friendship, UST, RST, whatever), "She's got my back even when it's against the wall"
Word Count: 1,287
Spoilers: Mentions of Birds of a Feather (1.01) & Rules of Engagement (1.04),
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, never were, don’t sue.
Author’s Note: I apologize to Harry for beating him up for this fic. I really should be nicer to the guy. Thanks to featherjean for the really great prompt and I hope you like it. Thanks also to my sister, who even though she's working on her senior thesis, beta-ed this for me.
----
Even stumbling under my weight, Murphy managed to shoulder the back door of my apartment open and steer me towards a chair. I would have helped, but my ankle was throbbing with pain and walking with anything other than a limp was really difficult. I dropped heavily into the chair and grimaced. Everything hurt. From the top of my head down to my little toe, I was one giant ache named Harry Dresden. I hadn’t felt this bad since the skin walker had hoisted me up like a slab of meat. Or maybe when Sirota threw me around that apartment, that had really hurt too.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” Murphy demanded.
“I’ll get it.” I started to get up, but Murphy put a hand on my shoulder and shoved me down into the seat. She might look small, but the woman was really strong. It was pretty intimidating sometimes.
“If you get up again, I’ll drag you to a hospital. No matter how much you protest.” She was lecturing me. “Now, where’s your first aid kit.”
“Upstairs, in the bathroom.”
Murphy gave me a look that clearly said “stay or else” and then went up the back stairs. Once I was sure she was out of hearing range, I let out a nice long groan. I couldn’t go to a hospital and if Murphy knew how bad I felt, that’s where she’d drag me. It’s not like I could explain to her about magic and electrical appliances. She still didn’t believe in magic. Instead, I had to pretend I didn’t hurt that much and hope she’d let it go at that. Of course, this was Murphy I was talking about and she was part bulldog.
I straightened up in my seat when she came back down the stairs. She didn’t say anything as she dragged a chair over in front of mine and then sat down. When she opened the first aid kit, I realized what she was doing.
“Murphy, it’s okay. I can handle it.”
“You couldn’t take a napkin in a fight right now, Dresden.” She took out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a cotton ball. In two seconds she pressed it to the cut on my cheek and I flinched.
“And hold still.”
I resigned myself to being taken care of. Murphy had that look on her face that said if I argued, she was likely to hurt me. I’d had enough of being a punching bag today, so I let my shoulders slump and tried to stay still while everything started to sting on top of aching. It wasn’t terrible as it could have been though. It seemed to me that Murphy was being extra careful while she dabbed and put a pad of gauze over my cheek.
“You’re pretty good at this.”
“You need to go to the hospital.” Murphy said, moving on to start on the cut above my eyebrow. I flinched and try to get away from the stinging antiseptic. I really hated the stuff.
“And hold still.”
“Sorry.” I mumbled. I’d been mumbling the whole conversation, it was hard to speak with my lip split and swollen. Murphy still managed to understand me though. “I don’t list hospitals. I’ll be fine. It’s just a few bruises.”
She gave me a look that clearly said she thought I was an idiot and kept up the first aid. Right now, I was pretty grateful for that. Most of the time I have to patch myself up, with Bob standing over me rattling off instructions. It’s not fun. Not that Murphy patching me up was a wonderful experience, but she was patient with my squirming and hadn’t lectured me. Yet.
“Thanks for saving me.” I said, trying to enunciate each word carefully so that she’d hear that they were genuine.
“You’re welcome.” Finished with the cotton ball she set it down and picked up a bandage. “What were you doing going after that guy on your own, Harry? SWAT had it under control.”
There was no way SWAT could have handled a man possessed by the cannibalistic spirit of a Wendigo, but Murphy didn’t want to hear that story again. Through this whole case, she’d been trying to ignore me and my Wendigo story. I was pretty used to her skepticism now, though sometimes I thought about showing her the truth. Murphy would never believe unless she saw proof of magic. The Council would kill me and probably her though. So, we kept struggling through as hard working cop and crazy wizard consultant.
I shrugged a shoulder, immediately regretting it as it hurt. Murphy gave me the idiot look again, but there was a certain amount of affection in it. At least I was a loveable idiot. I gave a small, sheepish smile in return and all was forgiven. It was nice, not having to say a word and still be understood.
“I thought I could handle it.” And I would have handled it, except the Wendigo knew I was coming and without the element of surprise I lost a lot of my advantage. While the Wendigo looked like skin and bones, someone you could easily snap in half, he had thrown me around the apartment like I weighted nothing, in a very Sirota-esque manner. Hench all the lovely shades of blue and purple my body was slowly turning and the red stains on my clothes.
“Yeah, right.” Murphy carefully set the bandage over the cut and smoothed it down, mindful of the cut underneath it. “You sure handled it.”
I hunched my shoulders a little, embarrassed, grumpy and hurting. I really could have handled it. I had everything I needed to exorcise the Wendigo and send it back to the Nevernever. Murphy sighed at my body language.
“Don’t sulk.” She muttered, “You look like a kicked puppy. You’re not Superman, Harry. You’re a good investigator and you’re really good at finding people but you’ve got to stop throwing yourself into dangerous situations without thinking.”
“Aw shucks, Murphy, I didn’t know you care.” I was just teasing, but Murphy wasn’t in the mood.
“You’re my friend. Of course I care.”
“You’re my friend too, Murphy.”
She smiled, actually smiled and then pointed a finger at me. “Don’t think this lets you off the hook for doing something stupid and dangerous. I’ve still got to explain how you found the guy before we did to my captain. Any hints on that?”
“Trade secret, Murph. Sorry.”
She sighed, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
I wonder sometimes just how much trouble I really bring to Murphy’s life. I know things are difficult. I’m a wizard, I just have that effect on things, but Murphy doesn’t share a lot about her work and just what I bring to the table. She was going to bat for me over this, something she had probably done in the past. Sitting there, letting Murphy take care of me, I realized something. Being Murphy’s friend was something really special. We don’t have a real equal relationship, but she's got my back even when it's against the wall.
“Dresden? What’s with the look? Do you have a concussion?”
Once again snapped out of my revelation, I focused back on Murphy. She looked a little wary, but still mostly concerned. Just what sort of look had I given her? I was pretty sure it wasn’t the type of look you’re supposed to give a friend and colleague. Whoops. My secret was out. At least I had an excuse I could use to get out of it.
“Me? A concussion? Come on, my head’s thicker than that.”
“Right.” Murphy sighed heavily. “You really should be in a hospital, Dresden.”