dresdenforhire | For lilorphanmaggie - Take Your Daughter To Work Day

For lilorphanmaggie - Take Your Daughter To Work Day

When you're a wizard that used to be on retainer with the Chicago PD you don't get called in for the fun cases. It's never, "Dresden, someone has delivered a bunch of cute puppies at the all you can eat buffet during a supermodel luncheon and we need you to investigate". No, it's always something that's gone really horrible. Not just weird but usually violent and gory. When that happens I put on my wizard hat and go earn my paycheck. Only I don't actually have a hate. Well, I do but it's a Cubs hat so not really all that magical.

I haven't been on retainer with the Chicago PD for a while, though that doesn't mean I still don't get asked to look at cases on the down low. The down low comes with considerably less cash but as the Winter Knight I don't have the cash flow problem I used to have. It's not exactly a job but seeing as how Mab shudders at the idea of her Knight being homeless and half starved unless it's because she wants them to be I get something of a stipend. I'm not sure what the limit is because my needs are pretty simple. Clothes, a vehicle, and a place to heat up SpaghettiOs on the stove.

I kind of wish I'd forgone the SpaghettiOs this time though since the scene was a particularly gruesome one. A lot of people don't know how much mass a human body has, especially when you spread it all out. And someone spread these bodies out all over the 16th hole of a golf course in the suburbs. I feel bad for the foursome that was the first to run into it because they clearly didn't know what they'd found until they'd taken several steps into the muck.

The police wouldn't have even had any way to identify the victims until DNA came back except they found a few phones among the remains. They hadn't given me the names exactly but I just happened to overhear what they were saying when I'd planted a magical bug (it was spider) by the command tent that relayed what they were saying. I'd recognized the names instantly as a gang of magical bullies that lived in the surrounding areas. Kind of like the Alphas only the opposite. The Omegas maybe? Bad Alphas? Assholes? Yeah, I was going to go with the Assholes. They were small time, too small time to ping the White Council but still trouble. Not so much trouble that they deserved whatever happened to them. I can think of only a few people that I'd wish a fate like that on and even then I'd feel a bit bad about it.

I needed to find out if everyone in the Assholes had been killed though but I wasn't exactly sure where they'd go to ground after this. People tended to not be particularly open when talking to the Winter Knight/Warden/Rogue Wizard/Me. Fortunately I knew someone that just might know something like that.

I had one of the members of the Za-Lords army send a quick message to Molly (I refused to think of her as the Winter Lady because she deserved to be remembered as a person) and asked her to phone my daughter. Cell phones don't play very nice with me but Molly and Maggie can handle them just fine. Once that was done I headed to Mac's to have a drink and wait for Maggie to show up, assuming she would.

We had a complicated relationship. Really complicated. If they could keep the cameras from exploding we would have been on the E! network with the Kardashians. But I loved her more than she might ever understand, even if I was terrible about showing it, and hoped that she wouldn't resent me for asking her to come along. Selfishly I hoped she would take it as a sign of faith that I thought she could handle this sort of thing.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I watched as Grace gave a pleased little smile at Maggie's reaction, clearly pleased to have her work appreciated and praised. As much of a spider creature as Grace was she was also a recluse who didn't have many visitors and liked to be told how great she was just as much as everyone else. Plus, when you can make a teenager impressed then you knew you really had something going. Despite all that I still watched Grace carefully. I trusted her, obviously, or I would have told her about Maggie or brought her down here. But I loved Maggie more than I trusted Grace. Heck, I was prepared to blast away complete strangers on the sidewalk if I thought they might hurt my little girl.

"Very good. Now I want you to try and focus on a map of the Chicago area. If you can make an illusion of one that would be best," Grace said. Hands disappearing down behind the desk she brought them back up a moment later with spider's silk tangled into them like cat's cradle. Long, thin fingers moved quickly as they wove the webbing into the shape of magical circle. If you squinted it sort of looked like a doily that a strange grandmother might knit. Once it was done she placed it on the table in front of Maggie and then put the phone in the middle of it. "Now, this is the tricky part. Pay close attention and push a bit of your magic into the circle."

I'd done this once before with her only with a much, much bigger web to keep me as far away from the technology as possible. My illusions were also mostly garbage which meant she had to put that work in as well. If Maggie could manage decent one then Grace could focus on the phone. Their magic combined would reveal... a glowing dot on the map of where the owner of the phone was. Kind of anticlimactic but really useful all the same.

A whole map of Chicago? That would be tough, at least with a lot of detail, it's a big place and Margaret liked looking at maps of it but not so much that she could recreate the whole thing for memory. A general outline, would do, she supposed, though it would remain to be seen until they completed the spell and found out.

A roll of the shoulders and head, a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out, clearing thoughts and filling that space with the noise in between all the other noises. That energy that bound and brought all things together. It takes a moment to find the end of the thread but once she does she holds on to it and brings it forward to her fingertips before pressing them on to the web and releasing. It's a fine conduit, probably by design and under her breath she begins the gibberish that draws the lines of streets and intersections in the rough hue that is Chicago.

It's like a massive etch-a-sketch, and it's not done in a day and it's not always done correctly but the main streets glow black against the slender strands of the web.

I held my breath while I watched, willing Maggie to be able to do this. It wasn't a particularly difficult spell at the core. Illusions aren't really my specialty but even I could have probably managed a workable map of Chicago. The difference was that I knew Chicago intimately, especially from all my time building little Chicago. It wasn't creating the illusion that was difficult but creating one that was detailed enough for our purposes.

People think magic is all about raw power or fineness and that's part of it. Probably the majority of it. But there's another aspect to it that some people don't think about and that's the creativity. Learning how to light a fire and seeing how big you can make it is important but know what to do with that fire besides burn down a building is important. Seeing Maggie make the map as simple as possible so she can make it as detailed as possible made me proud.

"Good, very good," Grace hummed as she surveyed the map, fingers dancing as she wove strands of magic and web together. I watched as a large circle settled over the map of the city before it started to wobble and shrink, shifting this way and that. Gradually the shape got smaller and smaller until it settled into a steady dot on the map.

"Does that place mean anything to either of you?" Grace asked.

It takes her a moment to hear the voices and the questions and bring herself to the here and now. Whoa. They're in a library, what a trip. Her head swims with the scent of paper, the library smell of far off toner and the sound of turning pages. A shake of her head and a deep breath in she sort of shakes off the discombobulation and focuses in on that little red dot.

Does the location look familiar to her? A zoom out to the surrounding area and the breaking down of where it might be in relation to the places she usually spends time.

"I mean, it's like," WORDS MARGARET. "It's a bar, like a real traditional Irish place, the name is like some Irish shit." What a time to space, her fingers dig and rub at her brow as if that would bring the name to life. "It will come to me, anyway they're this weird mix of like radicalized racists in the name of Ireland?" Even Margaret looks and sounds confused when she says this.

"Like they call out the old Gods of Ireland but to like rid the world of people of color in America? I don't know," as she speaks she grows more herself. "I'm not an asshole so I have a hard time relating to their dogma."

I suddenly had way more reservations about my plan of Maggie going in there by herself first. A radical, racist bar was not a place I wanted my little girl to go, especially when she was clearly the sort of person that they wanted out of the country. People like that never cease to anger me. They're not puzzling because I understand where they're coming from. It's small, insecure people who feel challenged by anything that doesn't directly benefit them. They want to grasp and grab on to all of the power they can at the expense of everyone else.

I could feel my anger, at first boiling over into a rage and then an ice cold clarity I recognized as coming from the Mantle. My baby girl. Mine. And they wanted to hurt her and I wanted to make anyone who would even think to lay a hand on her pay for that. It was thoughts like that that made the Winter Mantle so seductive, because they were so close to my own thoughts. Or they were entirely my own thoughts only without any of the restraint I would apply to them. But I was better than that. Not because I was such a great person but because it was wrong. People like that deserved to be punished, yes, but I can't appointment myself judge, jury, and executioner. Not like this.

"Well, that gives us a place to start," I said once I could finally trust my voice again. Even then I don't think I completely hid the lethal, growling edge to my voice.

"Oh good, I'm glad it worked," Grace said, her hands going still as the spell faded away. I watched as she carefully put the phone back into the bad and then slid it across the desk to Maggie. Apparently I wasn't the most favored Dresden anymore. Reaching down behind the desk she pulled out a card and handed it to Maggie. "And this is for you. A library card that will let you come see me whenever you'd like. I'm partial to gifts of giant bugs or interesting books."

It's probably not so surprising that Margaret hears that edge in his voice. It's a child thing. Or it might be a Margaret thing, finding the edge in the voice, the anger or the disappointment. Despite the fact that she calls him Harry and their relationship at times is strained, she is still his child and she knows his voice.

So she glances over at him, just slightly, because she isn't sure if he's upset that she knows the place or because the place is filled with shit heels, it could be either. Honestly, it's probably the shit-heels thing, because that makes good people angry in general.

Pulling her attention back around, the cell phone ends up in an inner pocket from which she pulls a book that quite clearly says: SIDE QUESTS on it. "Gnarly," very carefully she takes the card and gives it a look over before putting it in the notebook and writing for a second. "Giant bugs, or interesting books, very cool. I will keep my eye out for either of those things." Dunno about bugs but interesting books is a solid maybe.

"Thank you for all your help," she tells the librarian sincerely and then offers a hand. "It was nice to meet you." Not sure if that's protocol but it never hurts to be impolite.

Grace took Maggie's hand and gave it a dainty shake, less from being actually dainty and more because when you hand spindly spider-fingers that was kind of the only sort of shaking that you could do. I'd gotten a hug from her once and I don't know if it was the best or most terrifying hug of my life. Extra arms hugging you just doesn't seem right. I thanked Grace as well and then we headed back to the elevator where I couldn't contain myself any longer.

"A dozen dire flies!" I shouted, knowing I sounded exasperated and ridiculous all at the same time. "I had to bring a dozen dire flies before I got a library card. Do you know where you get dire flies from? The Nevernever. Do you know what dire flies in the Nevernever are attracted to? Same thing flies here are attracted too, only on a large scale."

I had no problem sulking about that because it was not fair. Finding giant piles of crap was hard enough. Taking down some dire flies around them was not only difficult but unpleasant because sometimes when they died they fell in the crap. All of that for a card and she just gave Maggie one on her first visit for nothing. Never mind that my daughter has a charming way about her and I'm a grumpy old wizard, it's not fair and I'm going to have a good pout about it until we get to the top of the elevator.

The outburst is somewhat expected but also not what she expected. Margaret was ready for Harry to go off on something because there was a lot to go off on but this? Dire flies? What the fuck? And then it dawns on her and the furrowed brow lifts and is replaced with a look of amusement. Hands stuffed in pockets she presses her lips together to kind of stifle that amused look and let Harry go off on his tear.

Plus she is learning some interesting information. She was already considering what she could dig up for Grace by ways of thank you. Sometimes, most of the time, it's harder to thank the Fae and the supernatural because the shit they are interested in is, well, weird and magical.

"What can I say," she finally says with a helpless shrug. "Spiders dig me," boy do they ever. "Plus," she presses her chin to her fist and smiles up at him with wide dark eyes. "I'm super cute and charming as fuck," and that's gotta have some currency in that part of the world.

"They do, do they?" I said, arching an eyebrow at her. I have no idea what that means but it seems like she's being clever so I was just going to pretend like I understood a deeper meaning. Faking it has been a hallmark of my career as a wizard and it's worked about 50% of the time. The other 50% it ends up blowing up in my face.

I glanced down at her as she gives me the adorable face and I had to admit it was pretty damned effective. It's almost a shame she doesn't try to talk to me more or ask me for stuff because I'd be an easy mark for sure.

"You are pretty cute and charming, I'll give you that," I said with a grin as the elevator came to a stop. Hooray we didn't get squished on the roof. "How do you feel about using your charm and adorableness to go talk to your frenemy? A bar full of racist asshole might change things but it's up to you."

And of course I say that just as the doors open and the other librarian looked over. That's alright, I doubt I was highly thought of in the first place.

"They dooooo," she double confirms. But that's all she is going to say, because now is not really the time but she saw the connection and had to make a note of it because it cracks her up way more than it should probably.

Why doesn't Margaret ask him for more things? Maybe because she doesn't need a lot (though she could always use more training and magical information) but maybe she just doesn't feel like she really has a right to ask. Which is all wrapped up in all their past bullshit and will one day be a topic of discussion in therapy. Margaret breaks the pose with a laugh. "You bet I am, you can take that adorable shit to the bank."

A shrug of indifference, "I mean, I could but I could also just kick open the door and shout: BOOM, 'I'm here to steal your jobs and rape your women.' I'm feelin' spicy."

They are never going to be allowed back in the library again.

"You're making me be the rational one here and I don't really like it," I said, suddenly realizing what it's like for everyone that's had to deal with me pretty much ever. It made me a little proud to see that in her even if it also wanted to make me pull my hair out. I probably owed an apology to Murphy, Michael, Carlos, Billy, Molly, Thomas, and anyone else that I've worked with over the years. They weren't going to get an apology but I now understood just how much they were owed one.

"You know what? Let's go with that plan," I said after a moment of thought. Probably not as much thought as I should have given it but I was feeling spicy as well. I think. wasn't really sure how to use that word properly. Either it will work and everyone will be pleasantly surprised, it will go terribly and Maggie will have learned a valuable lesson, or she'll decide on a better plan. Any way it shakes out we have a nice, Brady Bunch style bonding moment.

"Very few people like being the rational one. And the reason those people like it is because that allows them to feel in control of the world around them, when, really we are specks on a rock hurtling through space and just about everything is chance." Thankfully Margaret does have rational people in her life so when she suggests kicking in the door of a bar that has the reputation of being awful racists, they can tell her no.

Which is not what she has in Harry.

"Sweet," because if he's going to be full of spicy nonsense they may as well be together in their spicy nonsense. "Are you going to be next to me when I go busting through this door? You know, just so I know the vague-ish ins and outs of this, whatever this is, I'm not going to even call it a plan." Fishing the keys out of her jacket pocket she twirls them around her finger as they stroll through the library that wasn't guarded by a Fae Spider.

"Well that depends on what you're hoping to go for here. You have to think of the long term consequences," I told her as I held open the door out of the library for her. It was always somewhat surreal for me to step back into the "real" world after being in a library, even just a mundane one. Something about them made them seem like they were part of another world, little pockets of safety where the outside world only touched you through paper and ink.

"Well, you don't have to think them through, I didn't. But you should think them through," I said, hoping that at least in this instance I could give her some of the benefit of my experience as the sort of person who just busts through the door and starts shouting demands and setting things on fire. Just because it more-or-less worked for me doesn't mean it would for everyone or I endorsed it. "Because if you go in there all spicy like that and you walk away... you come out with a reputation. You're either crazy or you're bad ass. It might be nice to have the little fish think you're bad ass but then you get noticed by bigger fish. Then you become an issue. Or a problem. You don't get to cash in on being underestimated because you're cute and charming as much as you did. So if you're going in full spicy you have to understand it changes your reputation."

"I get what you're saying," she tells him outside in the sunshine with her sunglasses firmly back in place. "But I've spent a whole bunch of my life noticed by big fish. With varying degrees of annoyance and misery that entails. But I get your point." Not saying she knows what to do with it, because at some point she is going to need to go out there, bust some heads and show that she is not to be fucked with.

Or maybe just slip into obscurity. That has also occurred to her, more than once.

"Never go full spicy," she finally says after a glance up at the sky, hands in her back pockets: a contemplative pose. "What, then I just go in there and try to get her to come out? I can do the school friend thing but she knows that her friends are dead, right? I mean she just might be suspicious all over."

"Do you think that will work?" I asked. Not as a rhetorical question in the "wise man on the mountain" sort of way but because I had no clue. Maggie was the one that knew this girl and had insight into the mind of a young woman. I could make some assumptions and if Maggie wasn't here I would have to. But she is here and I want her to be as much a part of this as possible because dealing with situations like this is what I do and as much as I hate to wish this on anybody... I hope some day it will be what she does too. Because good people get involved and they help.

"Here's what I would do if I didn't have you as a partner right now," I said, because she was my partner. Not a side kick or an apprentice because that would never work because that's too much like father and daughter only without being father and daughter. I'd rather have the latter relationship if I can have anything. "I would roll up there, walk into that place like I don't have a care in the world. That means I'm either crazy, stupid, or so bad ass they don't scare me. I'd calmly ask to see who I'm looking for. When they didn't answer I'd ask again, only this time I'd talk about all the dead people and how I'm trying to stop whatever did that. Either she gets scared and reveals herself or they get scared they'll be next and will turn her over. Or I'll get lucky and the shitty person will know that I'm actually a good guy trying to help them and believe me."

Ugh this is one of those teachable moments isn't it? Yeah, probably, but at that moment she didn't care. It was one of those wild, terrifying things, to sort of be in this moment of serious contemplation in which the end result, if wrong, could be horrific. Really, life is shaping up to be one wild game of DnD which, if actually, realistically considered probably wouldn't actually be enjoyable.

And Harry is right there, next to her, asking for her advice and her input in what might go down. She feels like the only person in his life right now and it's actually kind of terrifying: what if she messes up? What if his feelings toward her are only predicated on her being absolutely perfect?

"I don't know if I'm much of a talker," Margaret blurts out. "I mean what if I panic and just say something stupid?" It's one of those moments of very pure vulnerability. Here are my flaws, am I still okay? And it would be awesome if she was as cool and as composed as she acts in real life, but she's not. In return she tries to make up for it.

"What if?" teeth sink into her bottom lip. "What if we go in together? If we have a conversation together, like at the bar where everyone can see and hear?" No, ugh, gross. "That's like super spy movie, right? We could talk to them together?" Give each other advantage?

I watched her think it over and the struggles on her face were almost too easy to read, if only because they mirrored so many of my own internal struggles only magnified by the dual insecurity and confidence of youth. In some ways I'm proud of her though because if she acted like she had all the answers it would have show immaturity more than anything. There will be serious repercussions to whatever we do here and we want to try and minimize the bad ones.

"Maggie, you'll probably say something stupid. Hell's bells, I'll probably say something more stupid than you. But I promise if you don't over think what you say you'll be fine. You might not love to chat up random racist strangers in their bar but you're good at talking. You don't bullshit people and they can tell. They might not always like what you have to say but they'll respect you for it. I know I do," I said. Casually dropping that last part in there like it's not a big deal, like I'm not risking a sort of snarky comment about how I don't really respect her. Because that honesty of hers is a double edged sword and I know I'm more vulnerable than anyone to having it cut me. When you so desperately want someone's love and affection you open yourself up to having them wound you deeply. But Maggie is worth it.

"And together is good. Because who would be crazy enough to bring their old man to a bar if they were planning on blowing it up, right?" I asked. I didn't ask who would be crazy enough to bring their daughter to a bar if they were planning on blowing it up though because anyone who has ever met met knows that answer to that question is "Harry Dresden".

It's one of those moments she doesn't really know what to do with. There is a lot to it. There is encouragement and this naked honesty that can make people uncomfortable but ultimately does more benefit then bad. Especially when it comes to Dresdens and magic.

Yeah. She'll probably do something stupid, and despite her teenager almost adult brain thinks, it's not the end of the world when that happens. it might keep her up some night two years down the road but even that will fade over time and causes no real harm. But he's right, she is honest, even in her stupid mouth moments, and people respond to that and now will probably be no different.

In a moment, perhaps inspired by her previous fear of disappointing him, or just the whole stress of the situation she moves forward to wrap her arms around him in a hug. He's always more sturdy then she thinks, he's got that lank and height and it sort of conceals just how fucking stacked he is. That's after the fact that they aren't really a hugging kind of family. And family is one of those words she waffles on using when describing them. Not a traditional family for sure but something they are working on, building together that works for the both of them. That is special to them.

Regardless to all the complications surrounding their relationship she does love him, and she is giving him the best Maggie hug in the history of hugs.

I let out a surprise "oof" because of anything I was expecting in that moment it wasn't a hug. Out of all the things I'm ever expecting from anyone it's never a hug and certainly not with Maggie. And it's not because I don't think she's capable or that I think she would never hug me, not really. But I have to tell myself that it won't happen because the hoping and yearning for it feels like it will kill me if I tell myself it might happen. Or I might try and force it and end up pushing her away and I would never want that. Because this? Right now with her hugging me tight? It's the best moment in my life. It's the best hug I've ever had and I have to really struggle not to burst out sobbing because there's a hole in my hear that only my little girl can fill and right now she's filling it and I hope that whatever massive hole is in her heart that I caused is feeling a little more full.

It also makes me remember just how small she is. Sure she's tall for someone her age, or any age now that she's older. But she still feels small and tiny as my arms wrap around her and I hug her back. I'm pretty sure that I could just stand like this holding forever but I made a silent promise that the moment she starts to tend the hug I will too. For the moment though I don't ever want to let her out of my arms.

It's probably a too long a hug. Like that could make up for the length they went without. That's how that works right? All the want and the hurt and the hope and the confusion could be eased with a slightly longer hug. If only they were that magical, if touch could truly restore the body and the spirit.

"Thanks," it's gruff in a soft little girl way. Act hard, be in control, like we're all too Elsa for our own good. Except the redemption is in loving and letting go.

(that was awful, i apologize.)

Margaret clears her throat and squeezes a little tighter before finally letting go and awkwardly shuffling back. That was good, a good hug, a good moment and the world didn't fall a part and she is still standing. Weird. "Yeah, um, let's, you know go in together so we got each other's back and," vague gesturing between the two of them because apparently her body is utterly out of control. "Like never separate the party, right? This is 101 stuff."

It's the best hug I've ever received in my entire life. Apologies to everyone else who has ever hugged me but they just can't compare to the hug I just got. It's hands down the best, A+, everyone else go home. Only don't go home because I want more hugs from other people too, they just won't be this good. But there was no shame in being the Ben Johnson of hugs to Maddie's Shakespeare.

"Anytime," I said, blinking away the random saline solution that happened to want to fall from my eyes that definitely were not tears no matter how much they appeared to be exactly that. I would definitely not hate another hug from her sometime.

"Right, never split the party. We go in together and just confuse them with our stunning good looks, witty repartee, and vague threats if neither of those work."

You can have those hugs any time you want, Harry, an ask first wouldn't go amiss but Margaret does like giving and receiving hugs and would be pretty stoked at a Harry Dresden hug.

Because she is now. Because things are complicated but not so complicated that a hug can't make things better.

Deep breath in, a roll of the shoulders, collecting herself and getting focused: what's next? Oh right. Keys in hand she looks up at Harry and smiles slightly before giving the key ring a spin around her finger. "Alright, I drive, you navigate. Do we need to hit up anywhere else before we get there?"

I took a moment to gather myself after that all because I'm a horrible mess with feelings and emotions, especially when it comes to dealing with Maggie. No fault of hers of course, it's just how I am and things are. But I'm trying to be better, damn it. For her sake.

"I'd like to swing by home and grab a few items and drop Bonnie off back home. I think I have a few things that could help us with this," I said as I climbed back into the passenger side of the Jeep. So far Maggie had a 100% success rate in driving my vehicles without destroying them which is way, way better than my record. Also, it's nice to be chauffeured around.

"Ohhhh," eyebrows wiggle as she slides into the driver's side seat and gives a little hop to get fully centered. "Goodies," because Harry always has the best toys. She tries to be innovated (see also: rad af jacket) but really she isn't much of an innovator. What she does try to do and feels she is relatively good at, is making existing things better, or at least more suitable for her.

Why make new? Just make better.

Seat belt, mirror check, this time a bit more casual and she starts up the Jeep. "Home for supplies, then on to the bigot bar. Yup, the usual afternoon running errands with dad." well that was startling. o dear. Yeah, whatever it happened. Let's move on.

"To be used in emergencies only," I said, doing my best to sound authoritative and not like I'm a huge hypocrite for saying that. I'm not all that worried though, the thing about magic and people who grow up with it is that it loses a tiny bit of its luster. When you're the one making all the fancy stuff you realize every potion you use is another two hours you have to spend making the next one and that's not all that fun. Of course, if it's my potions we're using then she doesn't have to do the work to replace them. Maybe I should invite her over to do that though.

All of those thoughts derail though when she calls me dad. It's such a small thing, just a title, that's all. But I know all about titles. "Dad" is a big one. I've had several father figures in my day but there's still only one that I think of as dad. Malcolm Dresden will always be my dad. Hearing her use that moniker about me makes me choke up a little and I was already emotional about the hug. I am so not equipped for this. Which is why I automatically go for humor. Ahhh, good old humor.

"If you're good, next weekend we'll go to two bigot bars."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject