My life is a buddy cop movie.

Let me backtrack.

A while ago, I joined forces with some rather colorful characters in order to save a teenage girl's life from a monster disguised as a house. Now, that girl was my secretary.

Please, no skeevy jokes. Not even Stark is that tasteless.

Now, I made up half of Dresden-Taylor Investigations. I'm Dresden, by the way. Taylor is my partner, a guy with the ability to find anything, the cheater. It's not magic, not really, though it is supernatural...which just makes it more bullshit, in my opinion.

I still did my fair share work on our cases, no matter what Taylor said. He wouldn't know a clue if you smacked him with it.

I know. I've done it.

As I walked back to our headquarters-a multi-story affair that looks far more dilapidated than it is; Stark's suggestion- I thought how strange it felt to walk the Nightside's streets after leaving the mundane world.

During my brief jaunt outside, I asked around, twisted some arms, but...nothing. Not only didn't my allies and enemies exist here, they never had. And that...left me with an uneasy feeling.

Still, I learned some stuff about the big and small kids on the block. Even met some. Like the London Knights, actual successors of the Round Table. Good guys, if a little stuffy. I think Michael would have liked to meet them. I know Chris would have.

Or the Carnacki Institute-yeah, the guy had been real here. Apparently, my partner John had studied with him when he was finding his own feet. The Institute predated Carnacki, though. It had been founded in the sixteenth century, which made me wonder what was it called originally. Still, its Ghost Finders did good work, though it must have been stressful. I talked with one of them. Called himself Happy, but... wasn't. In fact, he was always popping pills.

And, finally, there were the Droods. A family that dated from the times of Roman Britain-wonder how they avoid inbreeding-, and who have more or less kept order in the hidden world since their founding, using their living golden armor and cutting-edge gadgets.

I hadn't seen a Drood, though, let alone met one. The people they send to the field are secret agents. Still, this guy I talked with seemed to know a lot about them. Called himself Shaman Bond, if you can believe. A bit weird for such a small-timer to have infornation on this secret family, but Shaman seemed to get around, and the Droods were infamous, if not well-known. He was always in town, looking for some mischief... and always alone. Hope he'll find a family for himself someday. Seemed like a decent guy.

The Nightside seemed almost crushing after mundane London, like a steel blanket. Still, I'd survive.

The front door-steel and silver, covered in the best wards John and I could find and make- opened at my approach. It only does that for a few people, and we can be counted on both hands.

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I walked to the elevator, which also opened with no touch needed. No magic here, though, just good tech. Good, wizard-proof tech. Count Video provided the best stuff in exchange for Chris, Stark and I not paying him a visit.

The elevator moved smoothly, so that I felt like I was standing still. In a few seconds, the door opened, revealing the firm's shared office(John and I have private ones, too, for keeping the stuff we don't trust the other to handle). John was slumped at the desk, face on his arms. He seemed to be asleep, so I did what anyone would.

I poked him with a stick.

I nudged his head a few times with my staff(har, har. I've heard all of them) before John made a dubious sound and stood up, stretching.

"Still a smartarse, I see," he said, eyes bleary. "Ever heard about shouting, Harry?"

"Shout? What if I woke you up?" I asked with a smirk. John made a rude gesture and rubbed at his eyes. Upon closer inspection, he smelled of...

"Have you been drinking during the day? Again? C'mon, dude..." I said.

"Who are you, my wife? And it's never day here." He stuck his hands in his trenchcoat's pockets.

"You know what I meant."

"Yes, yes. I know. Not my fault we haven't had a real case in..." He looked at the calendar, then gave up. "Forever. I've got to do something."

"Where's Cathy?" I asked, just to change the subject.

John shrugged. "Here and there. Clubbing. You know how kids are..."

"And you trust her in the Nightside's clubs? Alone?"

John smirked. "Harry, she goes into places we wouldn't look at without armed backup. She'll be fine." That didn't fill me with confidence. "Besides, I can handle the paperwork while she's gone." That? That filled me with horror.

"Once you wake up, of course. Grandpa needs his naps."

"You're about fifteen years older than me!"

"It's all in the mindset," I said airily.

John sniffed. "Arsehole. You're starting to sound like Stark, you know that?"

"Now you're just being mean." But a thought struck me. "John... where's Stark hanging out these days?"

The mercenary usually dropped in our office to hang around and drink when he wasn't on one of his jobs. Had so much changed in the week I had been away? Before our joint case, he had shared an apartment with Shotgun Suzie-a bounty hunter just as terrifying as him, but entirely human.

Actually, scratch that. That made her more terrifying.

Anyway, the two got on each other's nerves, because like repels like, and Stark, who apparently can be a gentleman, left the whole place to her and started sleeping around town.

Not in that way. I hoped. Last thing we needed was some mini-Starks running around.

John shrugged, interrupting my train of though. "Oh, him? He should be in class right now."

"...What class?"