Title: A Law Unto Themselves
Fandom: due South/The Dresden Files crossover
Rating: G
Length: ~1,300 words
Content notes: Gen, humour, crossover.
Author notes: Huge, huge thanks to mific for the beta and the tons of great suggestions. You're a rockstar.
Summary: Harry Dresden meets the 27th precinct. Set post CotW for due South (and non-canon-compliant as far as Frannie's post-CotW fate is concerned), fairly indeterminate timeline-wise for Dresden Files.



“Harry, I’m sorry. The 27th precinct is… they’re a law unto themselves. This whole thing happened on their turf. You’ve gotta work with me here.”

Murphy’s voice sounded desperate, so I swallowed the snarky reply that was bubbling up in my throat.

“Okay. Anyone in particular I should be talking to?”

Murph was silent for a moment. Then she said:

“See if you can find Kowalski. He spent the last couple months in Canada or somewhere, but as far as I know, he’s back. He’s a detective—well, he was, last I heard. You know how these things can go.”

I sighed inwardly. Yes, I knew that all too well, and no, I didn’t need a reminder of just how much working with me had damaged Murphy’s career.

“What if he’s not around?”

“Then good luck. I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do.”

“Great.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

I hung up, left the phone booth, and walked down the street to the 27th precinct. I asked the desk sergeant where I could find Detective Kowalski. He pointed me vaguely in the direction of a desk in the squad room, and I wandered over.

Right. So far, things were going well.

There was a messy stack of paperwork on the desk that roughly resembled my own non-existent filing system. Behind it, I could see a shock of blond spiky hair sticking up. I cleared my throat and stretched out a hand.

“Detective Kowalski? I’m Harry Dresden, PI.”

The cop got to his feet and grabbed my hand in one fluid movement, shaking it briefly.

“Right, the wizard from Murph’s patch. Stanley Kowalski, Chicago PD. Er, call me Ray. Nice to meet you. What’s the trouble?”

I blinked at him a couple of times.

“Did I say somethin’ wrong?” He raised his eyebrows as he said it, and I wondered if he was actually concerned or just amused at my reaction.

“No. It’s just…” I made a useless gesture, then lowered my voice. “Usually this is the part where people ask me if I’m for real.”

He grinned widely.

“Same here. So how about we skip it and get down to business?”

'Same here'? Surely I’d missed some kind of clue, but if it helped get things done faster than usual, I wasn’t going to complain. I grimaced and opened my mouth to speak.

Just at that moment, a young woman sidled up to us, crowding Kowalski with an armful of files.
She was wearing a light blue shirt with a CIVILIAN AID badge stuck to the front of it.

“Hey Frannie,” Kowalski said and smiled affectionately.

“Hey Ray,” she replied with a mischievous undertone. “I’ve got the files on your suspect.” She made a show of balancing a manila envelope on top of one of the piles of paper, then turned around. “Who’s Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome?”

Kowalski crossed his arms in front of his chest, then waved one hand weakly in my direction,

“Harry Dresden. Murph’s guy.”

The woman frowned at me.

“Wait, aren’t you the…”

I nodded pre-emptively. “Yeah.”

“Well, we’re gettin’ all sorts today.” She walked off, winking at Kowalski. He rolled his eyes when she was out of sight.

“Sorry about that. So this is about that, er, incident earlier today, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Right.” He scratched his cheek absently, cocking his head to one side. “This is gonna take a while. I’m gettin’ coffee, you want somethin’?”

I nodded, possibly a bit too enthusiastically.

“Black. With sugar.”

“Be right back.”

“Thanks.”

I watched him wander down the corridor for coffee, and looked around, feeling a little awkward.
You see, police stations aren’t usually where I come in. I tend to meet these guys on some crime scene or other, or if they’re with Murph they come to my office. This was their home turf, and I felt out of place here.

A voice from behind me kept me from getting lost too deeply in my own thoughts.

“Can I help you, Sir?”

I turned around in the direction of the voice—and froze.

Right behind me stood, to all appearances, a Mountie in full dress reds, his arms clasped behind his back like a tin soldier.

I remembered Murph’s words about this place being a law unto itself and decided she hadn’t been kidding.

“Thanks, but I’m alright. I’m just waiting for, er, Detective Kowalski to come back. We were talking. He’s gone to get coffee.”

“Oh, are you…?”

I decided to play it safe. “PI.”

The Mountie grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously.

“Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, and, for reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture, I have remained attached as liaison with the Canadian Consulate.”

“Harry Dresden,” I responded, baffled.

His face lit up like a Christmas tree for a split second, and he looked at his feet.

“You’re the wizard,” he said softly. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Dresden.”

I frowned. The usual reactions when I told people what I did for a living ranged from running away screaming to finding excuses to end the conversation. Maybe Canadians were more relaxed in their attitudes towards the magical arts?

While we had been talking, a shaggy white beast of a dog had trotted up next to the Constable and was now making itself known with a whine. It moved forward towards me and started sniffing my hand, then licking it with a rough tongue.

“Diefenbaker,” Fraser said, by way of introduction. “My companion. He’s half wolf.”

I looked from the dog’s face to Fraser’s and back again. Even without making a conscious effort to employ my wizard senses, I could feel a powerful bond between the two.

I mentally chided myself for not figuring it out sooner, but in my defense, I’d never met a wizard with an actual career in law enforcement, or a red dress uniform, or both.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t realize I was speaking to a fellow practitioner of the Art.”

“I beg your pardon?” Fraser frowned.

I gestured at the dog. “I’m assuming—familiar? Spirit guide?”

He looked at his feet, rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb. “I’m afraid you are mistaken, Mr. Dresden. Although there are certainly spirit guides who have been known to take animal form—tuurngait, as the Inuit call them—they seem to restrict themselves to their native territories, and I’ve not had the honor of seeing one… in the flesh, as it were. I’m afraid that, although he’s saved my life on more than one occasion, Diefenbaker is not my familiar. He’s just… over-familiar.”

The dog left off cleaning my hand and barked twice.

“Oh, that was hardly an insult, Dief.” Fraser looked at me apologetically. “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s deaf for most intents and purposes, but he likes voicing his opinions about everything.”

“That seems more like selective hearing to me.”

“Oh, no. He reads lips quite well. Although he does seem to have an uncanny ability to understand what is said if it involves mentioning his name.”

Before I could learn more about the undoubtedly fascinating animal, Kowalski appeared in the doorway, carrying two plastic cups.

“Hey, Fraser,” he said as he made his way over. “You guys done with introductions?”

“Yes,” we replied in unison. I gave Fraser a sidelong glance, but he didn’t react.

I looked from one to the other and flicked my hand between them. “He's... You guys are working together on this?”

Kowalski nodded into his coffee. “Yeah. It's a long story, but right now, you're the one with more interesting things to say. Go ahead.”

From somewhere, a chair was all but shoved against the back of my knees. I sat down with as much dignity as I could manage.

Kowalski sat down behind his desk and handed me one of the cups. I gratefully took a sip. Bad coffee, as I’d expected in a police station, but it was full of sugar, and I decided right there that Detective Kowalski was a diamond.

I also started to realize how the presence of a wizard might not faze him as much as it would other people, if this was what he dealt with on a day-by-day basis.