ankle gun

Murphy was in enough pain to keep her from arguing. She did draw her gun, switch the safety on, and offer it to me. I shook my head. "Keep it. You might need it."
"Dresden," Murphy said, "my gun has been about as useful as fabric softener in a steel mill tonight. But someone out there has a rifle. If they're using one, it's because they're a human, and you don't have most of your magic stuff with you. Take the gun."
She was right, but I argued anyway. "I can't leave you defenseless, Murph."
Murphy hauled up the leg of her jeans and pulled a tiny automatic from an ankle holster. She worked the slide, checked the safety, and said, "I'm covered."
I took the Colt, checked the chamber and the safety, more or less by reflex. "That's a cute little gun there, Murph."
She scowled at me. "I have small ankles. It's the only one I can hide there."
I chanted, teasing, "Murphy's got a girl gun, Murphy's got a girl gun."
Murphy glowered at me and hauled the chain saw to within easy reach. "Come a little closer and say that."


Summer Knight Chapter 21, Page 246-247