Thomas was ahead of me, so he was the one that opened the door to Mac's bar. And he did so with flouish; shoving the door in so it slammed loudly on the wall inside, annoucing our entrance better than a fog horn. I glared at him, he shot a grin over his shoulder as he stooped to walk into MacAnallys. Like most of Chicago, the bar was sinking slowly by surely into the Lake, as a result the stairs had been added to take you down a half level. 

I walked in behind Thomas, and sound, movement, hell even some breathing, stopped. I couldn't help the grin that made its way onto my face. Supposedly being dead and then coming back can really up your reputation. I sauntered over to the bar, Thomas vainly trying to hid his snickers behind his hand. We both took a seat, and waited for Mac, who was staring at me with such intensity that I fought back a shiver.

"Harry Dresden. You're supposed to be dead," he intoned, his eyes glancing a Thomas and then back at me. Thomas was member of the White Court, but it was known he was my ally first and foremost. (No one save his sister knew why however) Mac knew Thomas wouldn't be in my presence unless I was the real McCoy so to speak. It didn't stop him from being suspious however. And I wouldn't hold it against him. Handy thing that suspision. 

"I get that alot," I said cheekily. Mac relaxed, my sense of humor apperently assured him of my idenity. He dug a bottle of his brew out for me and Thomas, then opened one for himself.

"Good to have you back Dresden. Maybe this city will calm down, now." He took a deep swig and set his bottle down with a thump. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that several patrons were easing out the door, probably to go and spread word that Harry Dresden was back from the dead. I grinned again, like I said, reputations. 

"Calm down?" I asked, returning my attention to Mac. He nodded his head.

"We all thought it was bad while you were here. Yea well, the phrase 'you ain't seen nothin' yet' springs to mind. When word hit the streets that you were dead, it was like all the scum came out from their hidy holes overnight. Apperently your presence here had been forcing them to keep their heads down incase you came to chop them off."

That surprised me. 

Really surprised me. 

I gaped at Mac, then looked at Thomas who was grinning into his beer.

"Is that true?" I asked.

"100%. Alot of people may be iffy on where excatly your loyalties lie, Harry; but your reputation kept alot of the bad guys down in undertown. That, I imagine is why this place cleared out. They've all gone to get the news out on the wire. "Baddies beware! Harry Dresden is back from the grave!""

I punched him. Not hard!

Our conversation didn't get any farther, because the door banged open again, this time admiting a thin slip of a girl, followed quickly by her imposing father. 

"Harry!" Molly yelled, running across the bar to throw her arms around me. I laughed and patted her back.

"Hey, Molly. How's training?"

"How's training?! How's-" She let out then chocked off as her rant turned into a sob. She just held on and cried into my shoulder. I looked helplessly up at Micheal, who had joined us. He looked at me, and I felt my own throat close up as I realized that the Knight of the Cross had tears in his eyes.

"It's good to see you, Harry. God be thanked you are alright." I took one of my hands from Molly's back and offered it to him. He clasped it in both of his instead of shaking it like I thought he would. Molly suddenly drew back, her eyes red and puffy, but she was smiling though her tears.

"You idiot. What happened?" She asked. Thomas stood up, and Molly gratefully took his seat at the bar. He and Micheal pulled up chairs from one of the tables.

"I don't know. I've been fighting a war. I got back and found out I'm supposed to be dead. You guys probably know more than I do." I said, turning in my seat to I could face all of them. 

"We don't know much either, Ramirez wouldn't give us details on what happened because it threatened White Council security. He only told us that you died saving Captian Lucchio." Micheal explained. I scratched my head.

"Well, I did save the Captian, lost my staff and blasting rod in the process, but I survived. We continued on with our mission. Whoever set this up, must have found my stuff where ever it got lost and used to it back up his claim."

"What about your duster?" Thomas asked, gesturing to it. He had kept it when my things had been dievied up, and returned it to me before we left for the bar. 

"Someone nicked it my first day. I was really hacked off about it."

And I really had been. This duster had saved my ass more times than I cared to think about. The entire time I had been without it, I was uneasy and felt vurnerable. 

"The real question is why though. Why on earth would someone want us to think Harry was dead? He'd just come back and ruin whatever this person wanted." Molly pointed out. 

"Well..." I said slowly, "Is is possible that maybe he was hopeing one of my allies would take me out? That's not something I would see coming, much less be prepared for."

Thomas had the grace to shift sheepishly in his seat, "It makes sense when you think about it. All of us would see Harry and think 'imposter. enemy. kill' and ask questions later." he said. 

Molly thought about it, then agreed. 

"I can see that. If you'd shown up at our house, Harry, I probably would have been so angry at the thought of someone using your body to get to us, I'd have blown you away without stopping to think."

"Same goes for most that we know."

Micheal said solemly. I suddenly shuddered at a thought that popped in my head. Stars and stones, Murph would have filled me with lead had I so much as stepped on her front lawn. Someone had taken advantage of her friendship with me once before to get to her. With me dead, and then me suddenly appearing on her front stoop, she'd think Kavros was back and proceed to kick my ass back to the stone age.

Speak of the devil.

The sound of sirens filled the air. We all looked up as the drew closer and closer, and then stopped outside the bar. I tensed, coming back from the dead wasn't a crime was it? The sirens cut off, and not two full seconds later, Mac's door burst open for the third time that day. Karrin Murphy, dressed in a pair of wrinkled jeans, tee-shirt and a flanel button down shirt that was on inside out stood at the top of the stairs slightly out of breath. Her blonde hair was half in a braid, half not, and it looked like she had rolled out of bed to come here. I stood up.

"Murph-"

I knew she could move quick, I never realized she could move that quick. In the time it took my brain to register that she'd left the top of the stairs, she had made it too me. I had a bear second to prepare myself before the five foot nothing police sergent launched herself on me. I stumbled back a few steps as her legs wrapped around my waist, and her arms went around my neck. My hands went to hold her up, winding around her back. Her breath was ragged against my collar bone, and she shook soundlessly in my arms. 

I looked, bewildered to my friends, who weren't looking at me, but at Murphy, something like relief on their faces. And as I stood there, holding my best friend, I realized something important. 

They had missed me. 

They had been morning me. 

I thought back to Thomas's harsh voice as he had threatened me in his shower. Molly's cries, and Micheals tears. I felt the force of Murphy's saddness radiating from her shake and shiver. 

I had died. 

And I had taken a little of them with me. 

I clutched at Murphy all the harder.