Fighting Demons: Chapter 4 "Conversations"
I'm doing things a little differently this time out. First of all, I gave the fic a name and all the chapter titles will now be listed as chapters. Hope that's okay, but I think people will be able to understand the idea that this is all one story if I do that, rather than just a lot of little stories. Also, I am linking everything to my journal because I think posting will go faster. If it isn't, I'll change it back next time, but since I post it about 6 places, doing each journal entry separately is just a complete joke. It took me two hours last time and I dreaded doing it so much that I procrastinated, and that isn't good for anybody, especially me.
This is the fourth chapter (see above) of my Dresden Files/Supernatural crossover story. So far, I think it's going pretty well and I've gotten quite a few comments, although they're spread out all over the web (yet another advantage to posting in just one spot). I hope you enjoy this installment.
Author: snuggle_muggle
Title: Fighting Demons: Conversations
Fandom: Supernatural/Dresden Files crossover
Characters: Sam, Dean, Murphy, and Dresden
Prompt: #038, "Honesty"
Word Count: 1850
Rating: PG
Genre: Supernatural/Mystery
Summary: The boys try to explain exactly why they came to find Dresden and Sam asks Dean a rather pointed question. Small spoiler for SPN episode 3.05 "Bedtime Stories."
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke; Murphy and Dresden belong to Jim Butcher, and they both belong to many others. Unfortunately, They’re not mine. Pity, that.
Notes: This is chapter 4 of my continuing Dresden/Supernatural crossover, written for my fanfic 50 prompt table, located here. Also, this is the book universe of Dresden, not the TV universe.
Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3
Conversations
Sam was too far away to hear what Dresden said to Sergeant Murphy, but her face relaxed a bit and Dean stepped a little closer to the police car. Sam decided neither he nor Dean were going to get shot, immediately anyway, and walked over to join the little group.
" . . . understand it, really, but I’ve got someone doing some research and hopefully in a day or two we’ll have some answers. What do I need to do to get the Department off my tail for this latest mess?"
"Come in and answer some questions." She looked at him and smiled and Sam grunted in surprise at how young it made her look. "I promise, I won’t arrest you. And we can make it quick, ‘kay?"
"Then maybe we can grab some lunch?"
"Sounds good. You buyin’?" The dialogue was relaxed, their attitudes casual, and Sam had to admit he was curious at exactly how friendly they were, when Dresden wasn’t suspected of murder, of course.
Sam thought that Dean was getting ready to spontaneously combust in frustration at being ignored by the Sergeant and the "nutcase" but before any sparks actually started flying, Dresden turned toward him and then glanced quickly up at Sam. "I’d like to talk to you boys, too. I’ll even spring for lunch assuming you know something about my demons. The only catch is that you’ll have to wait until Chicago’s finest has her crack at me. And be available in case she slams me in the pokey after all. Someone’s got to break me out."
Murphy laughed and there was an answering crinkle in the Wizard’s face. He winked at Sergeant Murphy and then said, "Murph, do you have any objection to my talking to them for a few minutes before I come in to be questioned?"
"Guess not. Make it quick, though. I’m hungry. You should know they’re just some fans, Harry. I already talked to them and their story didn’t make any sense." She looked at Dean again, appraisingly, and then at Sam. "Harry’s a good friend of mine. If you upset him, you’ll answer to me." She rolled up the window and sped off the direction she had come from before either of them had even opened their mouths to answer.
The Wizard turned to face them both. "Dean and Sam, right? And the last name was...?"
"Winchester. Like the rifle." Dresden’s eyes were lively, moving over them both quickly, but Sam got the idea that they had been appraised and found acceptable, at some level at least. His face was cragged, thin, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He leaned rather heavily on his staff and Sam thought he looked exhausted. He had to admit he was confused. He had seemed animated enough with the Sergeant, but now it looked like nothing but pure stubbornness was keeping him standing.
"Okay. Um, maybe we should sit down somewhere?" Sam suggested. He glanced around the parking lot. There weren’t any convenient benches or even a fountain they could lean their butts against. It seemed that the fine officers of the Chicago Police Department didn’t want to encourage loitering on their property. They wound up standing for a few minutes under one of the shade trees on the side of the building with Dresden leaning against a small brick wall that hid an air-conditioning unit.
"Now, what were you going to say before we were interrupted?" The man seemed slightly on-edge, which combined with his exhaustion, just made Sam tired to watch him. The wizard’s gaze darted around the parking lot in a definite pattern and it took Sam a few minutes to realize that he was looking for danger, monitoring their surroundings as they stood there.
Dean filled Dresden in on the reason they had originally come to see him. Sam was happy they were being honest with the man. He had a feeling Dresden would know if they were lying. "We came to talk to you about demons. We read a newspaper article that quoted you as saying that you had noticed a lot of demon activity lately. Is that right?"
"Really? A newspaper article about me?" The man looked genuinely surprised. When Sam told him which paper it was in, he looked even more surprised. '‘Interesting. I had no idea. That’ll bring the kooks out of the woodwork. Er, uh, sorry, present company excepted, I’m sure. But, you’re right, though. There’s something going on and I can’t figure out exactly what or why, but it’s sure causing me grief. It’s been kind of bad for a while, but it seems to be getting a lot worse in the last few days."
Sam spoke up. He wanted to make sure they were talking about the same demons. I mean, demons are demons, but they were particularly trying to take care of the mess they had sort of started and much as it was obvious this guy needed some help, he didn’t want Dean and him to waste time dwiddling about when it wasn’t their issue. "So did these increased problems start about five months or so ago?" Dresden looked quickly at him again (it was strange that someone looked down at him - he was used to being the tallest one in the room) and Sam noted again that he didn’t quite meet his eyes. There was something rather strange about that but it wasn’t the time to bring it up.
"I suppose that’s about right. It’s like all hell broke loose or something. Why?"
"It did. Sort of." Dean sighed and looked at Sam. "We probably don’t have time to go into everything right now. Let’s just say that we hunt demons. Professionally, I mean. And it looks to us like you’ve got a demon infestation that could really use some good exterminators. So, here we are."
To say that Dresden looked surprised wouldn’t have quite described the expression on his face. It was surprise, but it was also- Well, Sam wasn’t exactly sure what. "You...hunt demons? Do people pay you for this hunting?"
"No." Dean’s brows furrowed and he looked a little too pointedly at the multi-colored vehicle in the parking lot. "But I’d guess you don’t make much either."
"I’m just wondering how you manage to con people out of money then, because there is no way that either of you could possibly hunt demons. You don’t have enough magic between the two of you to light a candle." He looked at Sam again. "Now, there’s something peculiar about you that I can’t quite identify. But it’s not magic." He looked at Dean. "And you’re about as magically inclined as the bricks in this wall. So, why don’t you tell me what you really want?"
"You’re right - We’re not magic. Because there’s no such thing. We hunt demons the old-fashioned way. The honest way. Rock salt, fire, cold iron, circles, exorcism. The usual. Sam here figures out to lure them, trap them, kill them, and then we do it. No mumbo jumbo and fake wands for us, thanks." Dean crossed his arms and looked over at Dresden, who had stiffened up during his rant. He looked them over again, a bit more thoroughly this time, and Sam couldn't help it. He fidgeted. Dresden didn't laugh at him, although Sam could see he wanted to.
"Hunting demons without magic. Interesting thought." He looked at their car. "By the way, I could afford a new car pretty easily. I just like that one." Then he turned. "I’m going in to talk to Murph. I’m willing to consider the possibility that you might be telling me the truth. What you’ve said does make sense and I’m man enough to admit that just because it’s not the way I do things doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Come to lunch with Murphy and me and we’ll talk some more about these particular demons and how you might be able to help." He walked a few steps, leaning rather more heavily on his staff than Sam suspected was normal. He turned back to them. "I actually wasn’t kidding about your maybe springing me from jail. I can usually do it myself, you know, with the old mumbo jumbo, but I’m completely drained. If I’m not out in an hour, could you come in and see what’s going on?" He didn’t wait for an answer, but just went inside.
Sam turned to look at Dean, who was shaking his head, looking very confused. "That was another strange conversation. Not quite as surreal as the one with THE SERGEANT, but still pretty strange." Sam laughed at the way Dean referred to Murphy, like her name was all capitalized. Seemed fair enough, since she had insisted that they call her by her rank.
They walked back over to the Impala and Dean gave another sneer to the little blue car parked nearby. "So, Sammy, whatdja think?"
"Not sure, really. She believes he’s magic."
"Yeah. He’s got her duped real well. It’s obvious something’s going on between them, eh?"
"Maybe. Or they’re good friends."
"Hmmm. I don’t think you could be just good friends with a girl that good looking. Unless you’re gay." He looked at Sam and smiled slyly. "We could pretend to-"
"No. Absolutely not. Dean, we are not here in town to sleep with the police sergeant."
"What’s this ‘we’ bit? I don’t think I invited you to join us."
"Maybe not. But she looks at me more often than she looks at you."
"Probably wondering what’s wrong with you."
"Or maybe she likes tall men." That shut Dean up and he just hit Sam on the arm before opening up the car door and sliding inside. Sam grabbed the laptop out of the trunk and slid in next to him. As he suspected, there was enough wireless signal leaking from the police station to give him good access. As he also suspected, it was encrypted. It took the computer exactly 55 seconds to break the encryption and Sam smiled quietly as he logged onto his favorite search engine, punching in a few things Sergeant Murphy had said when they were in the office and waiting for the list to come on the screen.
"Dean, can I ask you a question? One that you’ll honestly think about before you answer?"
"No, Sammy. I’m honestly not gay," Dean joked, but he stopped smiling when he saw Sam’s expression. "Sorry. Sure. Ask away."
"You and I have seen some pretty freaky stuff in our days together." Dean nodded and Sam continued. "I mean, we light a fire on some old bones in a cemetery and 10 miles away a ghost explodes into flames. We’ve seen demons entering and exiting people through their mouths. We’ve seen an eight-year-old spirit acting out tortured fairy tales while her eighteen-year-old comatose body is stuck back in a hospital bed being entertained by her doctor-father, who didn’t-"
"I thought this was a question, not a recap of This Is Your Life!"
"Sorry. Just saying...How is all that different from magic? Really? I mean if the guy says he can do magic, how can we say he’s a liar? What’s the difference between what we do and what he does?"
This is the fourth chapter (see above) of my Dresden Files/Supernatural crossover story. So far, I think it's going pretty well and I've gotten quite a few comments, although they're spread out all over the web (yet another advantage to posting in just one spot). I hope you enjoy this installment.
Author: snuggle_muggle
Title: Fighting Demons: Conversations
Fandom: Supernatural/Dresden Files crossover
Characters: Sam, Dean, Murphy, and Dresden
Prompt: #038, "Honesty"
Word Count: 1850
Rating: PG
Genre: Supernatural/Mystery
Summary: The boys try to explain exactly why they came to find Dresden and Sam asks Dean a rather pointed question. Small spoiler for SPN episode 3.05 "Bedtime Stories."
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke; Murphy and Dresden belong to Jim Butcher, and they both belong to many others. Unfortunately, They’re not mine. Pity, that.
Notes: This is chapter 4 of my continuing Dresden/Supernatural crossover, written for my fanfic 50 prompt table, located here. Also, this is the book universe of Dresden, not the TV universe.
Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3
Conversations
Sam was too far away to hear what Dresden said to Sergeant Murphy, but her face relaxed a bit and Dean stepped a little closer to the police car. Sam decided neither he nor Dean were going to get shot, immediately anyway, and walked over to join the little group.
" . . . understand it, really, but I’ve got someone doing some research and hopefully in a day or two we’ll have some answers. What do I need to do to get the Department off my tail for this latest mess?"
"Come in and answer some questions." She looked at him and smiled and Sam grunted in surprise at how young it made her look. "I promise, I won’t arrest you. And we can make it quick, ‘kay?"
"Then maybe we can grab some lunch?"
"Sounds good. You buyin’?" The dialogue was relaxed, their attitudes casual, and Sam had to admit he was curious at exactly how friendly they were, when Dresden wasn’t suspected of murder, of course.
Sam thought that Dean was getting ready to spontaneously combust in frustration at being ignored by the Sergeant and the "nutcase" but before any sparks actually started flying, Dresden turned toward him and then glanced quickly up at Sam. "I’d like to talk to you boys, too. I’ll even spring for lunch assuming you know something about my demons. The only catch is that you’ll have to wait until Chicago’s finest has her crack at me. And be available in case she slams me in the pokey after all. Someone’s got to break me out."
Murphy laughed and there was an answering crinkle in the Wizard’s face. He winked at Sergeant Murphy and then said, "Murph, do you have any objection to my talking to them for a few minutes before I come in to be questioned?"
"Guess not. Make it quick, though. I’m hungry. You should know they’re just some fans, Harry. I already talked to them and their story didn’t make any sense." She looked at Dean again, appraisingly, and then at Sam. "Harry’s a good friend of mine. If you upset him, you’ll answer to me." She rolled up the window and sped off the direction she had come from before either of them had even opened their mouths to answer.
The Wizard turned to face them both. "Dean and Sam, right? And the last name was...?"
"Winchester. Like the rifle." Dresden’s eyes were lively, moving over them both quickly, but Sam got the idea that they had been appraised and found acceptable, at some level at least. His face was cragged, thin, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He leaned rather heavily on his staff and Sam thought he looked exhausted. He had to admit he was confused. He had seemed animated enough with the Sergeant, but now it looked like nothing but pure stubbornness was keeping him standing.
"Okay. Um, maybe we should sit down somewhere?" Sam suggested. He glanced around the parking lot. There weren’t any convenient benches or even a fountain they could lean their butts against. It seemed that the fine officers of the Chicago Police Department didn’t want to encourage loitering on their property. They wound up standing for a few minutes under one of the shade trees on the side of the building with Dresden leaning against a small brick wall that hid an air-conditioning unit.
"Now, what were you going to say before we were interrupted?" The man seemed slightly on-edge, which combined with his exhaustion, just made Sam tired to watch him. The wizard’s gaze darted around the parking lot in a definite pattern and it took Sam a few minutes to realize that he was looking for danger, monitoring their surroundings as they stood there.
Dean filled Dresden in on the reason they had originally come to see him. Sam was happy they were being honest with the man. He had a feeling Dresden would know if they were lying. "We came to talk to you about demons. We read a newspaper article that quoted you as saying that you had noticed a lot of demon activity lately. Is that right?"
"Really? A newspaper article about me?" The man looked genuinely surprised. When Sam told him which paper it was in, he looked even more surprised. '‘Interesting. I had no idea. That’ll bring the kooks out of the woodwork. Er, uh, sorry, present company excepted, I’m sure. But, you’re right, though. There’s something going on and I can’t figure out exactly what or why, but it’s sure causing me grief. It’s been kind of bad for a while, but it seems to be getting a lot worse in the last few days."
Sam spoke up. He wanted to make sure they were talking about the same demons. I mean, demons are demons, but they were particularly trying to take care of the mess they had sort of started and much as it was obvious this guy needed some help, he didn’t want Dean and him to waste time dwiddling about when it wasn’t their issue. "So did these increased problems start about five months or so ago?" Dresden looked quickly at him again (it was strange that someone looked down at him - he was used to being the tallest one in the room) and Sam noted again that he didn’t quite meet his eyes. There was something rather strange about that but it wasn’t the time to bring it up.
"I suppose that’s about right. It’s like all hell broke loose or something. Why?"
"It did. Sort of." Dean sighed and looked at Sam. "We probably don’t have time to go into everything right now. Let’s just say that we hunt demons. Professionally, I mean. And it looks to us like you’ve got a demon infestation that could really use some good exterminators. So, here we are."
To say that Dresden looked surprised wouldn’t have quite described the expression on his face. It was surprise, but it was also- Well, Sam wasn’t exactly sure what. "You...hunt demons? Do people pay you for this hunting?"
"No." Dean’s brows furrowed and he looked a little too pointedly at the multi-colored vehicle in the parking lot. "But I’d guess you don’t make much either."
"I’m just wondering how you manage to con people out of money then, because there is no way that either of you could possibly hunt demons. You don’t have enough magic between the two of you to light a candle." He looked at Sam again. "Now, there’s something peculiar about you that I can’t quite identify. But it’s not magic." He looked at Dean. "And you’re about as magically inclined as the bricks in this wall. So, why don’t you tell me what you really want?"
"You’re right - We’re not magic. Because there’s no such thing. We hunt demons the old-fashioned way. The honest way. Rock salt, fire, cold iron, circles, exorcism. The usual. Sam here figures out to lure them, trap them, kill them, and then we do it. No mumbo jumbo and fake wands for us, thanks." Dean crossed his arms and looked over at Dresden, who had stiffened up during his rant. He looked them over again, a bit more thoroughly this time, and Sam couldn't help it. He fidgeted. Dresden didn't laugh at him, although Sam could see he wanted to.
"Hunting demons without magic. Interesting thought." He looked at their car. "By the way, I could afford a new car pretty easily. I just like that one." Then he turned. "I’m going in to talk to Murph. I’m willing to consider the possibility that you might be telling me the truth. What you’ve said does make sense and I’m man enough to admit that just because it’s not the way I do things doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Come to lunch with Murphy and me and we’ll talk some more about these particular demons and how you might be able to help." He walked a few steps, leaning rather more heavily on his staff than Sam suspected was normal. He turned back to them. "I actually wasn’t kidding about your maybe springing me from jail. I can usually do it myself, you know, with the old mumbo jumbo, but I’m completely drained. If I’m not out in an hour, could you come in and see what’s going on?" He didn’t wait for an answer, but just went inside.
Sam turned to look at Dean, who was shaking his head, looking very confused. "That was another strange conversation. Not quite as surreal as the one with THE SERGEANT, but still pretty strange." Sam laughed at the way Dean referred to Murphy, like her name was all capitalized. Seemed fair enough, since she had insisted that they call her by her rank.
They walked back over to the Impala and Dean gave another sneer to the little blue car parked nearby. "So, Sammy, whatdja think?"
"Not sure, really. She believes he’s magic."
"Yeah. He’s got her duped real well. It’s obvious something’s going on between them, eh?"
"Maybe. Or they’re good friends."
"Hmmm. I don’t think you could be just good friends with a girl that good looking. Unless you’re gay." He looked at Sam and smiled slyly. "We could pretend to-"
"No. Absolutely not. Dean, we are not here in town to sleep with the police sergeant."
"What’s this ‘we’ bit? I don’t think I invited you to join us."
"Maybe not. But she looks at me more often than she looks at you."
"Probably wondering what’s wrong with you."
"Or maybe she likes tall men." That shut Dean up and he just hit Sam on the arm before opening up the car door and sliding inside. Sam grabbed the laptop out of the trunk and slid in next to him. As he suspected, there was enough wireless signal leaking from the police station to give him good access. As he also suspected, it was encrypted. It took the computer exactly 55 seconds to break the encryption and Sam smiled quietly as he logged onto his favorite search engine, punching in a few things Sergeant Murphy had said when they were in the office and waiting for the list to come on the screen.
"Dean, can I ask you a question? One that you’ll honestly think about before you answer?"
"No, Sammy. I’m honestly not gay," Dean joked, but he stopped smiling when he saw Sam’s expression. "Sorry. Sure. Ask away."
"You and I have seen some pretty freaky stuff in our days together." Dean nodded and Sam continued. "I mean, we light a fire on some old bones in a cemetery and 10 miles away a ghost explodes into flames. We’ve seen demons entering and exiting people through their mouths. We’ve seen an eight-year-old spirit acting out tortured fairy tales while her eighteen-year-old comatose body is stuck back in a hospital bed being entertained by her doctor-father, who didn’t-"
"I thought this was a question, not a recap of This Is Your Life!"
"Sorry. Just saying...How is all that different from magic? Really? I mean if the guy says he can do magic, how can we say he’s a liar? What’s the difference between what we do and what he does?"