"Ugh," says Milo. "I hate this world. It's not even that it's a yawning pit of horror, although it certainly is - I could handle a yawning pit of horror if I at least knew it well enough to hold a conversation with its inhabitants! But we go for one bloody walk in the park and suddenly there's a bunch of people trying to kill each other and we're right in the middle of it, and then that fellow with the big stick was looming menacingly over us and I couldn't even talk my way out. I'm good at talking my way out. I'm not used to - to lacking the option. Oh," he waves a hand vaguely, "I made a half-decent showing, I guess, but it was fucking terrifying. You've been amazingly informative but there's still so much I don't understand."

"This particular walk in the park was a statistical outlier, to be fair. I have frequently walked through parks without being shot even once."

"I believe you," he sighs. "I just. Ugh. Even if getting mildly threatened by tall men with staves is an uncommon occurrence, encountering people isn't, and I'm always afraid to open my mouth in case I say something exceptionally foreign."

"Sorry. It's surprisingly difficult to explain to someone how your own universe is different to Disney Magicland. Come to think of it, I don't know that I even told you what guns are. I'm an awful host."

"I'm sure I wouldn't do a much better job if I had to help you get used to my world. I could manage warnings like 'be polite to dragons', but I'd be lost if I tried to tell you everything I know about geography and magic and politics and heraldry and I don't even know what else, all at once."

"Well, short of reading the Encyclopædia Britannica cover-to-cover, I can't really see much of a solution here. You could affect an offensive foreign accent and pretend to be from Ruritania, I suppose."

"Reading the what?"

"Extremely long 'book' that's... supposed to hold most of the knowledge considered relevant to a Western education... You know, the more I think about this the less crazy an idea that sounds."

"Where can I find this book?"

"Library'd probably have it. The spines of the volumes make pretty pictures when you put them in order, so libraries like having at least one set to look good on the shelves."

"And can we go to this library and ask nicely to read their book?"

"One of the things you might find in the Encyclopædia Britannica is the existence of public libraries, which are these places that have a bunch of books that people can read for free. So. Yes."

"Well, I think I've found myself an immediate project, then. Time to read some books."

Leo makes the appropriate turn to head to the nearest public library. "And while you nerd it up I can check up on the state of the art in shitty vampire fiction."

"Is that shitty fiction by or about vampires?"

"The latter, for the most part. There's a couple of White Court who write trashy romances or horror, but none of them actually involve vampires. We've yet to produce anyone at that depth of self-respect."

Giggle.

It is: a library! There are a number of variably unfriendly and/or middle-aged women tending to its needs.

He manages to locate an encyclopedia - wow, that's a lot of volumes - and a chair to sit in while he reads it. He takes down the first volume and sits in the chair and wearily wishes that his feet touched the floor.

Oh. Of course. Of fucking course. Milo glares at the tall man's ribcage as he passes, not wanting to bother looking up far enough to glare at his face, and returns his attention firmly to his encyclopedia.

"I mean, I was in the area. Getting shot at. And I needed some books for, um, a friend, and I decided to get them here. And here you are, reading... the encyclopedia? Makes sense, I guess."

"It has come to my attention that I am sorely under-educated about subjects of local common knowledge."

"Yeah, probably. Have you gotten to guns yet? Probably volume G. Or... maybe F for firearms. One of those."

"Still on A," he says, holding up the current volume to show Harry its A-emblazoned spine. "But if you feel like explaining, go right ahead."

"Sure! They're these things that make a little explosion with chemicals to send little pieces of metal shooting into your enemies' bodies. Range from pistols, which can only really kill you if you aim them right, all the way up to machine guns and stuff like that, which will completely shred a given area with bits of metal. Bad news all around."

"Your world is terrifying and horrible," Milo observes.

"Guns are not the best example of that, but that is entirely true!"

"I definitely didn't mean to give the impression that guns were the most terrifying and horrible thing I've heard about since I got here. I think 'souls and people who lack them' takes that particular cake. Or maybe 'cats not being people'. There's a lot of competition for the title."

"Yeah, your talking cat is weird."

"Nonhuman humans: creepy but irrelevant. I mean, I've known cats who talked, but they were actually evil man-eating fairies, which I think overrides their catness."

"Perfectly relevant to imagining how creepy this world is for Cath," says Milo.

"Sorry about that, then. I can introduce you to some of the less evil malks, if you like? I'm sure at least a few could get along with her."

"Aw. Maybe I could get a few pixies to befriend her, there's no language barrier there at least."

"Pixies?"

"Wee little faeries. They're not what you might call intellectual company, but they're fun to be around and they're generally well-intentioned. I have some contacts among them."

"And there's no language barrier...?"

"Oh, yeah. Faeries don't really... have language. They just speak whatever language you're speaking, far as I can tell."

"Glad I could help. If you stop by later I'll order a pizza, we can summon a few, and she can hang out with them while we hang out with the rest of the pizza, how's that sound?"

"And what is pizza?"

"Food of the gods. Bread, cheese, tomato sauce, toppings according to taste. You've never had pizza, of course you've never had pizza. This calls for immediate rectification."

"I'll worry my friend if I don't wait for him, but if you want to feed your strange local food to the penniless otherworldly refugee on a slightly less-than-immediate schedule, feel free."

"Oh, sure. Pizza tonight is still pretty immediate."

"Suits me, then. How shall I find you?"

"Nnnnnope. Harry Dresden, wizard for hire." He extends a hand.

Harry nods to Catherine. "I don't know whether you'd rather shake, but it'd feel rude just flaunting my opposable thumbs at you. Hello."

"Excellent. Well, uh, unless you need any more help, I should probably... check out these books. For my friend."

"Farewell," Milo says agreeably.

Harry moseys over to the checkout desk.

Leo arrives, wearing an extravagant hat.

"That very tall wizard walked past me carrying a stack of trashy romance novels," he notes. "He looked like he'd just made an ass of himself, but I think he might just look like that."

"We had a perfectly pleasant and civil conversation and he invited us to come to his house later today to eat pizza and be introduced to pixies," says Milo.

"He just looks like that, then. Why on earth would you want to meet pixies? It's like talking to children."

"Apparently fairy creatures aren't subject to language barriers and pixies are an especially non-evil example?"

"Well, that's true, I suppose. I guess malks are out in that case."

"Well, they're not the worst creatures. Primarily scavengers anyway, they only kill when they need to or for ritualistic sport. And they're awfully good conversationalists if you don't mind the whole soul issue."

"Aw. I can practically guarantee that the malks would kill you if you tried that shit. They run in packs, too, so it's not like they'd all be paralyzed by soul pains like me. Then they'd kill and eat whoever got the soul. And probably me too, come to think of it. So, malks, possibly a less great idea."

"That sounds really unpleasant!"

"Mm. There's worse around."

"Why am I not surprised."

"It's almost like you've been here!"

"Almost!"

Leo gets some books for himself and sits at Milo's feet, hat beside him.

Milo aggressively reads his encyclopedia. 'B' volume, here we come!

"Um," says Milo. "I don't know. Define 'criminals'. It's hard to think of a person I really wouldn't mind seeing eaten, but not inconceivable, I guess... seems like it would be a lot of trouble to get your meals that way, though."

"Not all that much. It's only once every few weeks I usually have to eat, anyway, and I could case someone with the time. It's a hell of a lot easier to verify that kind of thing when you can summon a demon of secrets to tell you who's a child molester or something. I don't envy those mortal detectives."

"My remaining concern is that I think I remember you mentioning something about partially vampired vampires losing their souls when they kill people...? It seems like it might potentially be extremely awkward if that happened to you, you having just got used to said soul and all."

"That's more a... metamorphosis, type thing. Breaking out of the chrysalis of half-vampirehood. Very final. Besides which, I'm not half a vampire, I'm all a vampire, with a free soul pasted on."

"Well... fair enough, I guess."

"So I can be a vigilante hero and eat people at the same time?"

"If that's your fondest ambition."

"Then sure. But I don't mind helping you out if you start running out of sufficiently despicable criminals."

"That is very sweet. But this is still Chicago."

"And therefore unlikely to run dry of despicable criminals anytime soon?"

"I could feed solely off of Gentleman Johnny Marcone's immediate competitors for upwards of a year, at a conservative estimate. We're not running out."

"I have no idea who that is, but I believe you."

"The least evil of the crime bosses in this fair city. I tend to favor him when there's cause to."

"'Least evil' is one of those phrases that's not quite positive enough to be promising."

"Doesn't sell drugs to children or employ unwilling prostitutes, is one of the basic principles I've heard. Which, unfortunately, is high praise. And he takes decent care of his employees."

"Well. Okay then."

"Ooh, and there's this video on the Youtube of him shooting a loup-garou while spinning around hanging from his ankles over a pit- it's really blurry, because there's some wizard there, but still, pretty fucking cool. That gets him some points in my book."

"Shooting a what?"

"Big nasty werewolf thing. A family line gets cursed by some bastard wizard, their firstborn sons turn into unkillable murder machines with suicidal depression they can't do anything about. They can only be killed with inherited silver from another's hand. Not sure why the folks don't just stab the first baby, but maybe that's forbidden too."

"Why is that a thing? Why is that a widespread thing?"

"Not exactly widespread; I think the one Marcone killed might've been the last one. Back in the day people were really into punishing the generations to come. Sort of the done thing."

"I'm beginning to wonder how it is that there are any people left in this world who aren't evil or cursed or dead or I don't know what else..."

"There aren't that many escaping the first two. But, you know, humans breed like... like humans, is how I'd traditionally say it, I guess 'bunnies' might work?"

"I suppose."

Leo pats Milo's shin comfortingly, then gets back to his book.

Yes. Books. Milo is going to read so many books.

"Am I supposed to object to cake? Have we met?"

Harry has accidentally touched Buttercup a handful of times, and has been wincing somewhat less each time; it's not exactly comfortable, though. His restraint is appreciated.

Buttercup proceeds to bake a cake.

Harry proceeds to be aware that he can't cook for shit, and retreat to his work cave for work reasons instead of embarrassing himself trying to help!

While the cake is in the process of baking, the doorbell rings!

"We've been invited over for pizza and so Milo's cat can have a playdate with pixies, apparently. Is that cake? ...Is that a cast-iron oven?"

"Dietary restrictions forbid, I'm afraid. Did you seriously just invite me in? That could have gone poorly."

"Could it? Why does nobody tell me these things?" he wonders.

"I know the feeling," says Milo, stepping inside. Cath climbs up to his shoulder so that Buttercup will not have to crouch to pet her.

Buttercup correctly guesses Cath's intention, and continues petting her.

"Uh, still kind of confused by your not knowing about thresholds, considering you're a vampire. I mean, even the Whites get some explanation, right?"

"I ran away from home, probably missed the intro lecture that way," he shrugs.

"Ah. The Raiths lose more kids that way, I swear. Sure, systematic child abuse sounds great on paper, but put it in practice and you just don't get consistent results."

Buttercup snickers. "Damn right. Anyway, it's a tragedy that you can't have any of my delicious cake." He looks at Milo. "You can, right?"

"I am fully capable of eating cake."

"It's a tragedy, yes. I wonder, though... White Court blood always looks so fascinating. And I've never tasted it. That'd be some consolation."

He grins. "Trade you?" he suggests.

"Oh, what a sacrifice."

"Ooh, I like you. My room's over there, we've got time before the cake's done."

Leo grins. "Lay on, Macduff."

Off to Buttercup's room they go!

Harry surfaces. "Milo! Hi! Where's... either of the vampires? Did Buttercup let you in?"

"Yes. Um. They're," he gestures to the closed door of Buttercup's room, from which faint sounds are emerging.

"I don't think they've even introduced themselves yet. Is that usual in this universe? From your reaction I'm guessing no."

"Supernatural beings sometimes have... looser social norms. Plus, Buttercup uses sex as food, and... ech, that's probably reciprocal. At least neither of them's going to get addicted."

"Well. I see."

"Reasonably well, I suppose. Apparently I'm staggeringly lucky not to have been eaten by any of several thousand things yet. So, you know, on the one hand I have wandered into a world where thousands of things probably want to eat me, and on the other hand I have so far been eaten by none of them."

"You wouldn't believe how many times I've thought that."

He giggles. "Well, at least I'm in good company."

"Very good company! Not only do I feel the same way, I can help you continue to not be eaten by setting fire to things that want to eat you."

"Well. Thank you for that. Is setting fire to things usually an appropriate response?"

"In the case of soulless monsters, yes. Your range of options is limited in that case. Things that want to eat you but have souls, such as White Court vampires, should not be set on fire except as a last resort."

"Well, my range of options in the face of soulless beings seems to extend in unexpected directions. Actually, for that matter, do pixies have souls? Should I stay away from them while they're meeting Cath in case I accidentally give them some?"

"Leo mentioned this to you, I'm sure of it. Nearly the first thing I did on wandering in this world was meet Leo, engage him in debate about his eating habits, and somehow argue him into spontaneously developing a soul. I have no idea how I did it, apparently it's supposed to be impossible, and I'm somewhat nervous about accidentally doing it again to someone who won't take it so well."

"If you say so," he says, with a slight shrug. "And if you don't expect the pixies to object."

Harry shrugs. "One of them, I could see actually liking the idea. The rest won't really care."

"All right then."

"Oh, if we're going to get pizza you should probably pick toppings. We're getting it from a decent place, since this is your pizza cherry, but they'll probably have roughly the same stuff as Pizza 'Spress." He rifles through papers until he finds the coffee-stained menu, then hands it over.

"I can help you out on some of them. Like, sausage and pepperoni are different cuts of pork. Ricotta is a soft sort of bland white cheese. Pineapple is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord."

Milo cracks up.

"Is it really that bad? I am tempted by the lure of the forbidden."

"There will be no pineapple on any pizza that I partake in. We could get two smaller pies, one for your heathen pizza and one for Meat Lovers', as Mario intended."

"Well, or you could just make a recommendation. It seems you have a favourite."

"I prefer Meat Lovers'. It is for those who love meat. If you love meat less than myself, you may be disappointed."

Milo giggles. "At least, unlike pineapple, I know what meat is."

"It's a fruit. Really sweet, kind of sour, burns your mouth a little bit. All well and good in its place. Its place, in my opinion, is not on pizza. There are those who disagree."

"Well. I'll take your recommendation and see what comes of it."

Harry punches the air. "Score one for team Dresden!"

Giggle.

"They seem pretty convenient to me, but maybe it's more annoying to actually use them."

"Talking on phones sucks. Especially when you're a wizard, and every third word is replaced by static. But even besides that, it's like- half of talking to people. It feels all wrong."

"Yeah, I can see what you mean."

"Totally still useful, though. Won't deny that. Enables pizza delivery."

"You seem very enthusiastic about pizza."

"It is a solace in this cruel, cruel world."

Giggle.

Given that Harry is sitting down, it's now actually feasible to look him in the face, or at least much more feasible than it is when they're both standing up. Milo makes use of this novel circumstance to smile at him.

"Wow," breathes Milo, slightly stunned.

"Hell's fucking bells, that was- something. Ow. That was my fault, I should've broken eye contact, I am very very sorry. You have, um, an excellent soul. And mine didn't make you faint, good, that's happened."

"I have an excellent soul?" blinks Milo. "Um. Thank you? Yours is... sort of depressing, if I'm going to be perfectly honest, it makes me want to trace my route back home and bundle you off to Raxwell, except that then this world would be down both of us and that's just unacceptable, and anyway I definitely have no idea how to do that, so maybe I should just give you a hug instead."

"Depressing, huh. I have gotten that one before, though they usually go for 'horrible' or just straight to incomprehensible wailing. Maybe it's on an off day."

"Can I give you and your depressing soul a hug, though."

"Feel free. Gives me a chance to bask in your messianic radiance, and all."

"Um? I'm sorry," says Milo, letting go of him. "What was that? It felt sort of... I have no idea what it felt like but it was not something that normally happens when I hug people."

"Magical interaction. It happens the first few times two wizards touch, until their magic gets used to each other. You're not a wizard, though. For several reasons."

"Why would a soulgaze turn you into- agh! You're like a little ball of chaos designed to make as little sense as possible! This should be so impossible!"

"Sounds about right," says Milo.

"So I'll have two apprentices at once, I guess. Swell. Unless your sidekick has some expertise he'd like to impart from a long career of vampiring? Let it never be said that I'm unwilling to foist off work on somebody else."

"It's impolite to carry on private conversations in front of people, you know."

"Cath really doesn't have another option. And it would be a really, really long explanation for a really short comment. But I can give you the whole story if you want."

"Nah, I'm just making fun. Might be able to hook her up to a speech synthesizer, if she'd rather be intelligible. I mean, Hawking's got one."

"A what?"

"Little machine that takes motions and translates them into words. Paralyzed people can blink in code and it'll talk for them. Cath could get one hooked up to her tail, or something. Or maybe just directly translate the meowing?"

"The wisest of our sages has one! You can decline if you want, though. I guess." Harry puts on a tragic face.

"I'll see if Butters can scare one up. And probably teach her to use it himself, since I'd just hex it into oblivion."

"Who? And what?"

"Butters is my science friend who knows about magic. And science. He's adorable and loves music with tubas in it. And hexing is what happens when a wizard and a piece of technology get too close to each other; bits of magic get into the wiring and fry it by accident."

"Yeah, I could see that happening. I mean, I'm not the best of company even when I know you're sentient."

"Apart from our unfortunate first meeting you've been nothing but charming to me," says Milo.

"You're in an exclusive club, then. I have pissed off an astonishing number of people and other supernatural whatevers. Even most of my best friends started out either as people who hated me or people I hated, actually."

"What an inconvenient talent to have."

"Eh, it's worked out for me a couple of times. If you really have to distract someone, pissing them off is a pretty good way to do it."

"Granted, granted."

"Thank you so much for defiling my guest bed. I was just thinking, you know, 'the guest room is nice, but what does it really need? Hammer Horror pornography.'"

"Aw, did you not want us doing that? Sorry," says Buttercup. "Next time I'll take it outside, I guess. There was no horror porn, though! He's really nice. Uh, what was your name again, honey?"

"Hammer Horror. Dracula. With the blood."

"Leonardo Cristobal Sangre de Dios Rojas Moreno de la Corazón," Leo recites fluently. "Leo, to my friends."

"Nice to meet you," says Buttercup, with a cheerful grin. "Lately I'm Buttercup. The cake's gonna need a few minutes to cool off. Have I mentioned how sad it is that you can't have cake?"

"Eh. Your blood is sugary enough for a few decades, I think."

He giggles. "If you ever want another taste, just say."

"Oooookay, that is entirely enough dietary habits for my living room."

Harry graciously accepts this offering. "The cake buys you some slack."

A buzzer sounds at the door.

"Ooh. Off I go to secure pizza. Then we can pixie-summon!" Harry runs upstairs.

Buttercup leans on the couch near Milo and says, "So what's up, cutie?"

"Harry's dog is a person. Also we accidentally looked in each other's eyes and this somehow turned me into a wizard. It's been quite an evening."

Leo pokes Milo in concern. "Shit. You are a wizard. You're very much a wizard. That's super weird."

"And if Cath has her way, at some point I'm going to be a witch, too."

"That'll certainly be a first. Especially considering we don't actually have witches."

"I aim to become so bizarre and surprising that your world just spontaneously becomes nicer out of sheer confusion. It seems safer than most other approaches."

"On balance, I'd bet on the earth swallowing you whole instead. Just a priori."

"What a comforting thought."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I do have an earth evoker on call should you fall into a crevasse. You'd be out in a quarter hour."

Snort.

Harry descends, carrying pizza!

"Pizza!"

Leo applauds politely.

"Can it, you."

"The fabled pizza. Let's see if it lives up to its legends."

"Personally, I still distrust these newfangled tomatoes. They cause moral decay."

"I distinctly remember telling you to can it."

Harry clears a table out of the paper debris in the center of the room and lays down the larger pizza. He immediately takes the best-looking slice and absconds with it and one of the complimentary paper plates.

"Success!"

Further polite applause. "Que golazo. Man walks on moon. We are the champions."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're not missing much."

"All right then." He goes back to eating the delicious pizza.

As does Harry! Delicious, delicious pizza.

"I approve of pizza," he declares when he has finished his slice. "Many thanks, gracious host."

"Excellent! D'you want to try some of the pineapple, I got the pixie pizza with it so you could taste. And because they really like sugar."

"Sure, why not."

Harry ceremoniously lifts a slice out of the box and deposits it on Milo's plate.

"You come into my house..."

"I'd apologize, but it would be a filthy lie. I cannot regret pineapple pizza."

Harry picks up the heretic pizza and beckons. "We can probably summon a decently sized swarm in the park. For best results you'd want to go to the park outside town, but I don't know if you're up for a longish drive. Buttercup, Leo, d'you want to come?"

"Sure!"

"I might stay home and do some, uh, research."

"Alright. Milo, any preference on park versus woodlands?"

"I haven't seen any decent woodlands since I got here. Are your woodlands horrifying in some way? If they aren't, let's go with that."

"My favored spot's pretty close to the burnt-out husk of a lake house I burned down in a fight with a murderous drug warlock and his sex cult. But as long as you don't open your Third Eye while looking at it you should be alright."

"Am I likely to do that by accident?"

"Mm... possible. We could find a spot a bit farther from the ruins."

"That sounds like a sensible precaution."

Milo cheerfully follows.

So does Buttercup!

The Blue Beetle stands proud. Harry gets the doors open, deposits the pizza on the dash, and gets in the driver's seat.

"I'm not arbitrating shotgun," he warns.

"'Kay," says Buttercup, and he gets in the passenger seat.

Leaving Milo to get in the back. "Have I just been slighted in some strange vehicle-related way?" he wonders.

"Yes. A dire insult."

"Well, you're forgiven."

"Are these normal vehicle sounds?" wonders Milo, regarding the sputtering.

"Not so much. My car tries her best."

"Your car is female? Is this rhetorical femininity, in the manner of a boat, or...?"

"Much like a boat, yes. More in the sense that I wanted a pronoun and 'it' sounded demeaning."

"Fair enough."

Woods! They hardly look horrible at all.

They reach a clearing.

"Excellent! And no view of the lakehouse." Harry starts arranging things such as symbols and piles of scented dust around the pizza box.

Milo stands well back and watches curiously.

Buttercup does likewise.

...Buttercup appears to be having a cuteness meltdown over there.

Milo is more intrigued than endeared, but he is not wholly immune to the cuteness of tiny pizza-obsessed fae.

After a while, a small horde of pixies converge on their location. Harry moves back to join the others as the beasts descend gruesomely upon the pizza. "I saw a full swarm do that to a cow once," he notes. "Piranhas, nothing."

"Um. I see," says Milo.

"It's adorable," says Buttercup.

"I had pizza for the first time today. It's an experience," says Milo. "So you wouldn't want to have souls if you could, then?"

"What if it were possible? Hypothetically. Would you try it, just to see what it was like?"

"Well, that's what I'm trying to find out," he says. "It might be that all it takes to give you a soul is for you to agree that you want one. You have no obligation to do so, of course. But you could if you liked."