Chapter One: At the Wordsworth Homestead
Author note: This story is the seventh in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "The Ghost of Failures Past".
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
"Okay, you two, time to go," Wordy announced, coming out of the locker room after the long, stressful day.
Two pairs of eyes looked up at him, confused by his statement. "Aren't we going home with Uncle Greg?" Alanna queried. Her brother bobbed his head in agreement.
Wordy huffed a sigh; apparently it had slipped his mind to tell them about tonight's impromptu sleepover. "Your uncle's taking care of the Rangfords tonight, so you're with me," he told them with as much cheer as he could muster. Twin nods of understanding greeted his words and both teens hopped off their chairs and trailed him out to his van.
As he started the van and pulled out, Wordy asked, "Either of you have keys to Sarge's place?"
"Both of us, Uncle Wordy," Lance called, "Uncle Greg wanted us to have 'em 'cause Team One works late so often."
"Gotcha," Wordy acknowledged. "Okay, we're headed there first, so nab whatever you two need for an overnight."
"School books?" Alanna asked.
Stopped at a red light, Wordy looked over his shoulder. "Need to look something up?"
Surprisingly, both teens flushed and nodded. "Green," Lance chirped.
Wordy quickly turned back around and hit the gas. "Okay, but make sure it's nothing my girls will get into."
"Copy that," Alanna confirmed playfully. While Aunt Shelley knew about magic, none of the three little girls did. It was something both teenagers suspected would change once Claire reached her eleventh birthday. While they'd never seen Claire do magic, their own magic hummed in a way they recognized when they were near her. Alanna had even felt a whisper of the same from the younger girls, but she wasn't completely sure yet.
Wordy chuckled. "I guess we're rubbing off on you two," he teased. "Hey, what was that spell you used to fix Danny's medals?"
Lance fidgeted a little; Alanna cast him a Look. "Oh…just something I found," was the evasive reply.
Wordy rolled his eyes, wondering if the kid knew how obvious it was that he was holding back; normally, he couldn't get either teen to shut up about new spells. He opted not to say anything, mostly because he suspected it had something to do with their 'family magic'.
The rest of the drive to Sarge's place was silent and Wordy's van was soon turning into the parking garage that served the apartment complex. Wordy slid the van into a guest spot and the trio clambered out; heading for the elevators.
With all the reminders he'd had that day of past history, Wordy couldn't help comparing the siblings in front of him with the kids he'd first met. Instead of cringing and yelping at the gears and noises of a moving elevator, Lance merely rolled his eyes at all the stops it was making tonight. Instead of wary poking at the simplest of flip phones, Alanna was scrolling through all the text messages she'd missed and replying to them, one after another. The elevator doors opened on Sarge's floor and the group trekked off and down the hallway.
Wordy tilted his head at the sight of a young woman outside of Sarge's apartment, knocking on the door. Her clothing looked as if it had seen better days and the woman herself looked a touch desperate. Long dark brown hair fell past the woman's shoulders, ending partway down her back. As the trio got closer, Wordy could see that the hair was well-cared for, styled to set off the woman's face and dangling earrings to best advantage. Sadly, the woman herself was not in the best condition at the moment, with tear-streaked eyes and makeup and the air of a former drug addict. She turned as she heard them coming and her eyes widened in alarm. "Lance? Alanna?" She wrung her hands. "Where's Greg?"
One brow shot up, surprised that Sarge would know a former drug addict well enough to introduce her to his charges. Alanna made to bounce forward and her brother tugged her back. "Haley?" Lance queried. "Something wrong?"
Haley sniffled, trying not to cry again. "I broke up with Kevin." This time, Alanna slipped past her brother and hugged the older girl around her waist. "He, um, he tried to make me promise not to come here anymore."
"Deal breaker, huh?" Wordy asked, giving the young woman a gentle smile. "Sarge…uh…Greg's helping an old friend of ours tonight; can we help you?"
Haley's eyes might have been reddened and tear-streaked, but when she looked up at Wordy, they were clear. "You're on his team?" she asked with a curious tilt of her head.
"Yep," Wordy agreed. Offering a hand, he added, "Call me Wordy."
The dark brunette freed a hand to shake Wordy's. "Haley. I've known Greg since I was a kid."
Lance slipped past her to open the door to Sarge's place. "I'll get our stuff, 'Lanna," he offered. "Haley, you want a soda?"
Haley looked over. "Sure. I'm guessing you're not staying here tonight."
Wordy answered for the kids, "Nope, sleepover at my place."
Lance disappeared long enough to bring Haley a soda, then headed back inside to retrieve clothes for the next day and the books the siblings wanted. Alanna chatted softly with Haley, managing to draw a smile from the woman. Wordy listened with half an ear, putting in a few remarks here and there. Lance reappeared with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He pulled the door shut behind him, then turned and locked it. With a quick, economical movement, the teen had the backpack settled neatly on both shoulders. "Done," Lance reported.
"We can walk you out," Wordy told Haley.
"Thanks," Haley agreed, brushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.
The foursome moved back down the hall, toward the elevators. The trip down was much faster than the trip up had been; Haley got off at the first floor with a farewell and a smile. Down in the garage, the teens scrambled up into the back of Wordy's van and Wordy took the driver's seat once again.
At the Wordsworth homestead, Alanna was dragged off at once by three excited little girls. Lance avoided the same fate by quite literally hiding behind Uncle Wordy. Once the four girls were gone, Lance poked his head out and pantomimed wiping sweat off his forehead. Uncle Wordy chuckled at the boy's antics. "She's gonna get you for that, you know."
Lance snorted. "Gonna have to catch me first," was the cheeky reply. Wordy shook his head and headed into the kitchen. He wanted no part of the inevitable retribution.
The teenager ducked down the hallway and found his way to the guestroom. He set his backpack down on the bed and pulled out the clothes he'd packed. He tossed Alanna's clothing on one side of the bed and his own on the other. The books he left in the bag for the moment; instead he pulled out his faithful Nintendo DS and opened it up. He pressed down on the power button, praying the small device would still work. There was a long moment when nothing happened, but just as Lance's shoulders slumped, the console came to life with its typical chirps and beeps. "Yes!" Lance hissed.
"Survived, huh?" Uncle Wordy asked from the doorway.
Lance looked over at his pseudo-uncle with a grin. "Yeah, it did. Wasn't sure if it had, but, well, you know," he finished with a flush and a look to the floor.
Uncle Wordy huffed a laugh. "Somehow, I don't think Sarge would've begrudged getting a new one of those if he'd had to." He smirked at the now bright-red teen. "Come on, sport, dinnertime."