Free Working for Bigfoot by Jim Butcher

into jelly. “Do you want to live, Doctor?”
    He swallowed. He nodded once.
    “Then I suggest you alter your hairstyle to complete baldness,” I replied. “Or else learn to accept your receding hairline for what it is—the natural progression of your life. You will discontinue all use of magic from this point forward. And I do mean all. If I catch you with so much as a Ouija board or a deck of Tarot cards, I’m going to make you disappear. Do you get me?”
    It was a hollow threat. The guy hadn’t broken any of the Laws, technically speaking, since Irwin hadn’t died. And I had no intention of turning anyone over to the tender mercies of the Wardens if I could possibly avoid it. But this guy clearly had problems recognizing priorities. If he kept going the way he was, he might slide down into true practice of the black arts. Best to scare him away from that right now.
    “I understand,” he said in a very meek voice.
    “Now,” I said. “I’m going to go watch over Irwin. You aren’t going to interfere. I’ll be staying until his mother arrives.”
    “Are…are you going to tell her what I’ve done?”
    “You bet your ass I am,” I said. “And God have mercy on your soul.”
     

     
    Irwin was awake when I got back to the infirmary, and Nurse Jen had just finished stitching closed a cut on the wounded guard’s scalp. She’d shaved a big, irregularly shaped section of his hair off to get it done, too, and he looked utterly ridiculous—even more so when she wrapped his entire cranium in bandages to keep the stitches covered.
    I went into Irwin’s room and said, “How you feeling?”
    “Tired,” he said. “But better than earlier today.”
    “Irwin,” Nurse Jen said firmly.
    “Yes ma’am,” Irwin said, and meekly placed the breathing mask over his nose and mouth.
    “Your mom’s coming to see you,” I said.
    The kid brightened. “She is? Oh, uh. That’s fantastic!” He frowned. “It’s not…because of me being sick? Her work is very important.”
    “Maybe a little,” I said. “But mostly, I figure it’s because she loves you.”
    Irwin rolled his eyes but he smiled. “Yeah, well. I guess she’s okay. Hey, is there anything else to eat?”
     

     
    Later, after Irwin had eaten (again), he slept.
    “His temperature’s back down, and his breathing is clear,” Nurse Jen said, shaking her head. “I could have sworn we were going to have to get him to an ICU a few hours ago.”
    “Kids,” I said. “They bounce back fast.”
    She frowned at Irwin and then at me. Then she said, “It was Fabio, wasn’t it. He was doing something.”
    “Something like what?” I asked.
    She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just know it…feels like something that’s true. He’s the one who didn’t want you here. He’s the one who sent security to run you out just as Irwin got worse.”
    “You might be right,” I said. “And you don’t have to worry about it happening again.”
    She studied me for a moment. Then she said, simply, “Good.”
    I lifted my eyebrows. “That’s one hell of a good sense of intuition you have, nurse.”
    She snorted. “I’m still not going out with you.”
    “Story of my life,” I said, smiling.
    Then I stretched out my legs, settled into my chair, and joined Bigfoot Irwin in dreamland.

Bigfoot on Campus
    Takes place between Turn Coat and Changes
     

The campus police officer folded his hands and stared at me from across the table. “Coffee?”
    “What flavor is it?” I asked.
    He was in his forties, a big, solid man with bags under his calm, wary eyes, and his name tag read dean. “It’s coffee-flavored coffee.”
    “No mocha?”
    “Fuck mocha.”
    “Thank God,” I said. “Black.”
    Officer Dean gave me hot black coffee in a paper cup, and I sipped at it gratefully. I was almost done shivering. It just came in intermittent bursts now. The old wool blanket Dean had given me was more gesture than cure.
    “Am I under arrest?” I asked