Chapter Four: Dangers of Love Potions

When he woke, Lance was still in his grasp and his muscles ached. His magical core was the worst, but his body was just as unhappy with what had happened. Greg sighed and carefully extricated himself from his nephew, ignoring the pang in his heart for leaving the young man all alone. Two fingers trailed down Lance's outstretched arm, then he pulled away; a sharp jolt ran through him when the contact ended, drawing a puzzled expression, but the stocky man shook his head. Probably just static electricity or something.

Moving away, Greg checked the clock and frowned. Early in the morning, probably too early to move Lance to his bed without accidentally waking Dean up. Rubbing his chin, Parker sorted through his options, then sighed and started to turn away to head for the shower. Then the screen of his smartphone lit briefly, as if sensing his presence, and he spied a text message icon in the center of the screen, in a circle right below the time.

Reaching out, the half-bald man unplugged the charger from his phone and lifted the device, thumbing the power button. When he tapped the text message icon at the bottom of the screen, it opened up all his text messages. There were two new ones, both from the night before. One was Marina – Greg scowled – and the other was from the group text message that Wordy had set up the weekend after they'd come back from Texas.

Ignoring Marina's message – after the debacle of the night before, he had half a mind to block her number and cut all contact indefinitely – Greg tapped on the group text message and wasn't entirely surprised to see a message from Eddie.

GREG
WHEN YOU GET THIS
LET ME KNOW

Well then. At least Eddie hadn't said, 'When you wake up from passing out.' That probably would've brought the whole of Team One to his door, no matter how late it was. Greg envisioned the scene and suppressed a wince. That…would not have gone well. With a nod, he tapped out a reply and sent it on its way before heading for the shower.

JUST GOT UP
I'M FINE, SO'S LANCE
THANKS FOR CHECKING
SEE YOU MONDAY

As he made his way through his morning routine, Greg set aside any concerns about Team One. He could deal with that on Monday; in the meantime, the outings he'd proposed might've been nixed, but maybe he could still salvage the weekend itself. Not for Lance, but Alanna and Dean could still have a fun time. Still plotting, the stocky officer never registered the tug inside his soul as golden magic sought to return to its source.


By the time Dean and Alanna got up, Greg had showered and brewed a morning pot of coffee, but hadn't yet figured out how to get any breakfast without opening the refrigerator. Given the love potions that lurked inside, he had no interest in risking either his sanity or his friends' sanity for round two, but that meant keeping himself out of harm's way…and away from all the food in the apartment. Well…there were a few things out on the counter, but nothing he wanted for breakfast.

"Dad? Have you seen Lance?"

The partially bald man turned towards his son and nodded. "I know where he is, Dean. Don't worry; he didn't run away again."

Dean fidgeted, but joined his father. Brown eyes widened at the lack of any food on the clean plate in front of him. "Aren't you hungry?"

Greg sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Is Alanna out of the shower yet?"

"Um, prolly not," Dean replied. "What's that got to do with breakfast?"

Hazel flicked towards the refrigerator, stomach growling, but a shudder running up his spine as well. "Look, do me a favor. Get enough out of the 'fridge for all three of us while I go move your cousin to his bed. Don't touch the bottles on the middle shelf; if you think you might, yell for me."

"Dad?" Uncertainty and bewilderment mixed as Dean stared at his father in disbelief.

Parker pushed himself off one of the countertop stools they used for the kitchen island. "They're love potions, son. I don't think the compulsion on them will affect you, but it will affect me."

"And if it does affect me?" Dean pressed.

Partway to the kitchen door, Greg stilled, his shoulders slumping down. So much for breakfast. Or… He swiveled towards Dean. "Okay, new plan. I'll give you some money and you run down to that bagel shop on the corner for breakfast sandwiches. Get two for each of us."

Dean nodded as his father dug out his wallet and pried out two twenty-dollar bills. "Should I get anything for Lance?"

Greg considered, then shook his head. "He's probably gonna be out for most of today," he admitted. "We'll order pizza tonight."

Dark brows went up, but Dean swallowed down any more questions, took the money, and headed for the apartment door.

Behind him, Parker grimaced; really, truly, he did need to call in and report, but as far as he was concerned, breakfast could come first. With his stomach grumbling, he really didn't want to be evicted from his own kitchen even though he couldn't open the refrigerator. And yet…if the bottles hadn't been planted in the refrigerator, the situation would've been that much worse. Eyeing the stainless steel door between himself and the remaining love potions, the officer sighed heavily and dug out his cell phone. Hang it all – so much for breakfast, period. His stomach rumbled, but Greg set the hunger pangs aside as he flipped through his contacts and selected a number. Much as he didn't like the situation, better to get it resolved immediately. And then he needed to make a second call to his leasing office.


By the time Junior Aurors Queenscove and Sciuto arrived, Greg had moved his nephew back to his own bed and arranged for the locks in his apartment to be changed. Dean returned a minute after his father let the Aurors inside, bag of breakfast bagels in hand, and Alanna fled from the bathroom to her room, oblivious to the fact that her uncle was keeping their visitors well away from the apartment's interior hallways.

Flushing bright red, Greg explained the events of the night before to the Aurors and his son, then hauled Dean with him to the living room, stealing the breakfast bagel bag as they went. He was starving. Forewarned, the two wizards cast protective spells to guard themselves from the reported compulsion on the potion bottles and went to work. It was slow going, particularly since they couldn't cast any spells in the kitchen, but the pair took turns, retreating to the magic-neutral areas of the apartment to recast their protective spells after each bottle was removed, cataloged, and sealed inside a warded cloth bag.

In the meantime, Alanna emerged from her bedroom with her towel wrapped around her hair to claim one of her own breakfast bagels from Dean. While the two teenagers dug into their meals, Greg finished up his first bagel, claimed their apartment keys, and asked Alanna where Lance's key was.

Without looking up from her meal, she shook her head. "I think it's somewhere in his trunk, but you'd have to ask him."

Greg huffed a sigh, but nodded. He'd just have to get the key back to the leasing office later on, but since he'd agreed to pay for the lock change himself, they could darn well wait for that last key. At the knock on the door, he twisted around, then ordered, "You guys stay in here. Give Neal and Amy space to work."

"Copy," Dean replied, earning a rueful headshake from his father. About the only one of the kids who wasn't using SRU lingo these days was Clark Lane and he wasn't going to last long if Dean had picked it up. Even Wordy's three little girls delighted in using SRU terminology, especially around any magicals.

The man at the door proved to be the apartment complex's handyman and he hardly spared time for pleasantries before he got down to changing out the front door's lock. Greg left him alone to do his job, but headed for the two Junior Aurors to let them know they needed to keep as quiet as possible when casting their spells.

As he walked, Greg heard Neal say, "Careful, Amyz," and halted, but it was a beat too late as Amy emerged from the kitchen with one of the potion bottles in hand. Parker backed up, but his eyes fixed on the bottle even as he moved and terror skittered up his spine. He could almost feel the compulsion seizing hold – would the two wizards be able to stop him in time? – and then he was in his living room, breathing heavily as he reacted to that overwhelming fear. One hand reached out, resting on the wall, and he scarcely noticed his kids moving up to bracket him as terror and revulsion fought for control within him.

When Alanna hugged him, he nearly jumped right out of his skin, but Dean slung an arm around his shoulders before he could recover or apologize. "Easy, Dad, it's okay."

"We won't let it happen again," Alanna promised.

They couldn't promise, yet the reassurance soaked into his bones and Greg choked back a sob as he returned Alanna's hug and adjusted his stance to lean into Dean's hold as well. Once the obsession had evaporated, only the fact that his team still needed help had kept him from breaking down in hysterics. To lose control of mind, body, and soul… Artorius was right; love potions were worse than the Imperius. Why they weren't banned and outlawed was a question for the ages, especially with such a wide potential for outright abuse.

"Lieutenant? Are you all right?" Greg lifted his gaze to see Neal in the living room door, concern in his jade eyes. The wizard brushed his fringe out of his way, studying the expression on his superior's face. "Amy got it contained, sir, but I'm sorry. We should've contained them in the kitchen, not the hallway."

"It's okay," Parker rasped, ignoring the way his whole body trembled in the aftermath. "My fault, too. I just wanted to let you two know we've got another guest."

Neal's gaze darted towards the outside door and he nodded. "Yes, sir. We'll be careful, but we're just about done anyway." Then he stepped inside the living room, curiosity shining. "Sir? Do you mind if I document your magical signature?"

The officer blinked. "Isn't it already documented?"

The brunet wizard made a face. "It is, but…" He stole a glance at the hallway, then moved even closer and dropped his voice. "Any magical signatures kept on file will have three critical flaws. We can still use them to match crime scene evidence to known offenders, but since spells and potions can be keyed to someone's magical signature, it's against our laws to store a completely accurate magical signature outside of certain circumstances."

Dean cocked his head to the side. "So the flaws keep people from using your records to make keyed magic?" he asked.

Neal nodded. "That's it, exactly. We actually already have your father's official magical signature on file, along with anyone else in the SRU with a magical signature, but I'd like to record his actual magical signature."

"What for?" Greg pressed.

The young Junior Auror fidgeted. "Amyz thinks we might be dealing with a keyed potion and maybe a keyed spell, too. We can document what's on the bottles, but to prove it's keyed to you, sir…"

"You need my magical signature," Parker finished quietly. "Would your father have my complete magical signature on file?"

"Yes, sir, he does, but I'd need an authorization from you to access that."

Moving gingerly, Greg broke free from his kids and forced himself to straighten. "Let's do it that way, then. Keep magic use here to a minimum while we've got company."

Neal nodded acceptance. "I'll write out the authorization for you to sign then, sir." He started to withdraw, then added, "Like I said, we're almost done, so I'll put that together and then we'll be out of your way, Lieutenant Parker."

The smile felt more like a grimace. "Neal, you and Amy are saving us from a weekend of takeout. Thanks a million."

The young man smiled back, catching the genuine gratitude beneath the lingering fear. "Any time, sir."


Twenty minutes later, Greg had signed the hastily written authorization, seen the two Junior Aurors off, and traded his three original apartment keys for four brand-new ones along with a promise to find and return the last within a week. The handyman wasn't best pleased, but accepted the lieutenant's explanation that the fourth key was missing. He stayed long enough for Parker to test all four keys in the apartment's new lock, then moved onto his next job.


With the day's planned outing nixed by default, Greg retrieved his personal weapon from the gun safe under his bed – in the wake of getting his nipotes back, there was no reason to leave the safe in his SUV any more, though he did intend to ask Marina a few pointed questions about the real reason she'd had for trying to get rid of it. Aside from ensuring that the gun didn't have a round in the chamber and slipping in an empty magazine, Parker allowed his son and niece free rein with the Glock 17 while he scouted through the closet in his bedroom, searching for an activity they could all do together. Yes, they could watch a movie – or watch Dean play a video game – but so long as they were tied to the apartment, maybe there was another option.

At the very back of the closet, Greg found what he was looking for: a collection of board games he'd had for years and dragged around from home to home. Most of them dated to back when he and Catherine had still been married, but there were a few others he'd picked up for one reason or another, but never played. Carefully, he hefted the games out, stacking them on his bedroom carpet until they were all out of his closet. Then he edged his hands under the collection and lifted them, smiling to himself as he headed back to the living room.

Once he reached the living room, he set the board games down on the coffee table and turned to his two rapscallions. They were eyeing the games with a mix of wariness and intrigue – Alanna moreso than Dean; Greg felt a pang as he realized she hadn't seen any of the games before. Two kids in his apartment and he'd never pulled out the board games?

"What are those?" Alanna asked, confirming her uncle's suspicions.

"They're board games," Dean put in. "What've you got there, Dad?"

Glancing down, the stocky man picked up the first one. "Monopoly, of course. Looks like I got the old Star Wars special edition. Pretty sure it's for the original trilogy." As he passed it off to his two kids, he browsed through the rest of the stack. "Clue, Yahtzee, Taboo – definitely not that one, we don't want to wake Lance up – Chutes and Ladders, Candyland, Battleship, Scrabble, The Game of Life, Dizzy, Dizzy Dinosaur, Operation, Risk, Trivial Pursuit, Mouse Trap and, um…" He examined the last game. "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?"

"Carmen Sandiego? Like the game Uncle Spike lent us?" Alanna questioned.

"Same character," Greg agreed. "I think Spike's game was for U.S. history, though. Not sure why his parents got him that one."

"I liked it," Alanna countered. "The names were funny."

"Okay, sounds like we've got one vote for Carmen Sandiego. Dean?"

Dean considered the board games. "Can we do Clue after that? I've seen the movie, never played the game."

"Sounds like a plan," Parker replied. "Alanna? You good with that?"

"Yeah. Then you can pick a game, Uncle Greg."

Greg chuckled. "I don't need a turn, sweetheart. I'm good with any of these games. I just wish I had a few more since we're stuck here."

"Dad. You've got over a dozen board games. If we can't survive two days on that, that's kinda sad," Dean pointed out.

Looking over the board games now strewn around the coffee table and on the nearby chair, the stocky, half-bald man just had to laugh. Dean had a very good argument.


As dinnertime approached, Greg proposed that Dean and Alanna play Battleship while he ordered pizza and got Lance up. The board games had been a bigger hit than he'd expected and his two kids were still going strong as they tried out each game. Neither had even glanced towards the TV or the video game systems hooked up to it while they fought it out in games of Risk and Operation. Although Dean was eyeing Clue, hinting that he wouldn't mind playing the old detective game again.

Turning back to his own task, Greg jotted down what he wanted to order from their local pizza place. Four extra-large Meat Lover's for the three gryphon Animagi, plus a large Hawaiian for Alanna. Usually he only ordered three Meat Lover pizzas, but if they could stow away some extra pizza for leftovers, that would be nice. Although…he wasn't sure how hungry Lance was going to be… Well, they had plenty of plastic containers if it came to that. Accordingly, the stocky man made the call and even paid over the phone with his credit card. Typically, he paid in cash, but he wasn't sure how much he had left after paying for breakfast and wasn't inclined to risk it. Not after the weekend had already gone off the rails.

Dinner taken care of, Greg moved onto his next task and headed for the boys' bedroom. Inside, he huffed, bemused by the mess on Dean's side of the room as well as the barren plainness of Lance's side. If he had to guess, his nephew was still living out of his trunk instead of unpacking. Maybe, after dinner, he would put Lance in his own room and make Dean clean up while Alanna unpacked her brother's belongings.

Lance was curled up on his bed and at some point his pillow had migrated from under his head to be in his arms; it was just as well the pillow wasn't living given how tightly it was being squeezed. Parker shook his head and opted not to ponder the mystery migration any further as he dropped his hand down, using the back of his hand to check his nephew's temperature. A frown emerged at the heat he could feel; not high enough for alarm, but definitely higher than normal.

Sapphire opened, their owner bleary despite the hours of sleep. "Dad?"

"Sorry, kiddo, just me."

There was a soft murmur, then his nephew's eyes cleared a touch. "Mmmm…tired…"

"I know, but you already slept most of the day away, mio nipote. Let's at least get you up for a shower and dinner, all right?"

"Okay."

The word was dull, more acceptance of what was going to happen than any sort of desire to actually move, but Greg knew it was the best he'd get. With gentle persistence, he cajoled the teenager up out of bed and guided him to the shower. Once Lance was inside the tub and the water was running, Parker headed back to the boys' room and checked the dresser on his nephew's side of the room. To his private relief, Lance had at least unpacked his clothing and it was easy to secure a fresh set of clothes. Clothing in hand, Greg returned to the bathroom and traded fresh for old, taking the latter to the apartment's laundry basket. By the time Lance was out of the shower and dressed, his uncle was already in position to help him out to the living room and it was almost time for dinner.


There had been a curious side effect when young Lance had taken action the night before to help his uncle and Team One fight off the love potion. Although Lance's magic was very much not native to his uncle's magical core, he'd been forced to trick the core into seeing his magic as such. Even after the love potion had been purged, the misconception remained, prompting the scarlet magic to cling to the golden power while Lance fought to free Team One. It had provided the young man a much needed boost and might've come to nothing if not for the fact that both Lance and his uncle had collapsed while their magic was still intertwined. Over the hours that followed, most of Lance's magic returned to its source, but a small portion had been seized by his uncle's core as it sought to maintain a grip on what it saw as its own power.

The problem was only exacerbated the following morning when Greg broke his physical contact with his nephew; the golden power remained separate from his own magic, but without any way to return to its source, it was forced to stay inside Parker's magical core. By the time Greg returned to his nephew and touched his forehead to check for fever, his scarlet had firmly adhered to Lance's gold; though the golden magic seized its chance to return, it took with it a small cord of scarlet power, a cord that was only fed by each subsequent physical touch between uncle and nephew.

For Parker's magic, this was a perfectly legitimate response to the sudden influx of power that was both native and not. Although the demonic twist to his magic had been purged, it still retained a number of undesirable traits and tendencies. One of those traits was an instinctive desire to form links with those he considered Pride and along with that trait was a tendency towards links similar to Greg's original links.

Since those links had been forged in an uneven fashion, his magic sought to do the same with the brand-new link it was crafting, but there was an unforeseen complication. The prior links had been built atop Greg's anchors with his friends and their uneven state was a result of that. The brand-new link had no such anchor to use as a base; without that base, the scarlet could only judge based on power levels. Normally, this would have left Greg as the unequal party since his nephew possessed a great deal more magic than he did, but since Lance's core was heavily depleted, his remaining magic was roughly equal to Greg's own store. This left the scarlet magic with a quandary – its instinct was to create an uneven link, but there was no discernible difference on which to base that inequality.

In the meantime, while depleted, Lance's golden magic could sense what the scarlet was up to. It was too weak to sever the connection outright, but it could influence that connection. Seizing upon the relative equality between its current power level and Parker's, it 'suggested' that the new link be equal, neither party holding authority over the other. The scarlet objected, but lacked the strength to force the issue. Although not completely satisfied with the outcome – the golden magic would've preferred to remain free of any entanglements – so long as the link itself was even, the teenager's Wild Magic was content to leave the situation as it was.


On Monday morning, Parker wrote out a note for Alanna to take to school, excusing his nephew from class and requesting a list of all the sick days Lance had taken during the semester. Although he no longer intended to punish Lance for any illegitimate sick days, Greg did still want to account for any time his nephew had skived off due to the 'Marina situation'. He'd planned on going into the school himself for the list, but Lance had yet to fully recover from his magical exhaustion and appeared to have come down with a nasty cold as well. Best to give him another day or two to recover at home, but if it went any longer, Greg was fully prepared to take his nephew back to the hospital.

Before leaving, the stocky man checked on his nephew one last time and gently tugged his covers a little higher, then headed back to the door where Alanna was waiting. He ushered her out and locked the door behind them since Dean had already left for his school bus stop.

"He'll be okay, Uncle Greg."

Hazel flicked in her direction. "I've never seen either of you come down with a cold before," Greg admitted.

Alanna shrugged. "Most wizards don't," she replied. "You don't either."

He almost stumbled mid-step. "Excuse me?"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Uncle Greg? You never noticed that you haven't come down with a cold or the flu in years?"

Well, yes, it had been a very long time since he'd needed a sick day for anything other than a serious injury, but surely he'd gotten sick at some point. Everyone did, after all. But as Greg tried to pinpoint the last time he'd had a cold, he couldn't remember. Maybe in that first year after the kids had moved in? Well before the airport escort job and the grenade that had blown his potential for magic wide open. And now that he was thinking about it, the same went for Team One; he couldn't even remember the last time any of them had taken a sick day because they'd gotten sick. No, wait; Jules had gotten sick right before their second encounter with Fenris Ulf's werewolf pack. But then…if he had to guess, although his anchors had tethered him to his teammates, they'd primarily been for his benefit and none of his friends had been able to use the magic swimming inside of them. Not before Fletcher Stadium and its aftermath.

Under his breath, he murmured, "Wizards are tough."

"Pretty much," Alanna agreed. "Used to be, before the Statute of Secrecy and the Purge, most healers were magical, 'cause their magic gave them immunity to all but the worst stuff." Her eyes darkened. "A lot of non-magical healers got caught up in the Purge even though they didn't have magic."

"Why was that, mia nipote?"

"Sometimes they were mistaken for sorcerers," Alanna explained. "But at the time, most remedies were herbal and just about any plant you've ever heard of has magical properties."

"For Potions?"

A nod. "Sure, those properties go into Potions, but even if we're talking about plants grown in the tech world, they've still got inherent magical properties and if a healer knows what they're doing, they can manipulate a plant's magical properties."

Ah. "To make the medicine better."

"Yep." Alanna looked down, biting her lip. "But it can work the other way, too, Uncle Greg, so healers during the era of Camelot really needed to know the magical properties of plants so they wouldn't hurt their patients. When the Purge hit, a lot of that knowledge became illegal, simply because it was knowledge about magic."

Curiosity shone. "Is that still true today, mia nipote?"

The redhead considered. "If you were going for a totally herbal remedy, yeah, but most tech-side medicines today are manufactured, so they go through a lot of manipulation and even contact with metal." She shrugged. "There's a lot of metals out there that naturally inhibit magic, so manufacturing probably eliminates magical properties without even meaning to."

Greg nodded understanding. "The more we use technology, the less we can use magic." And vice-versa.

Violet peered up at him. "It doesn't have to be that way, Uncle Greg," she pointed out. "People can be really smart when they want to; I bet they could figure out how to make it work, but that won't happen until magic stops hiding."

Thoughtful, Greg tilted his head to the side. "It could even be an advantage to get rid of magical properties in some cases."

His niece beamed. "Exactly! If you've got two plants that otherwise make a good medicine, but their magical properties conflict, you could use manufacturing to cut down the magic and get them to work together right."

The officer chuckled at Alanna's enthusiasm, though a part of him wondered what a world with both magic and technology would look like. He'd gotten glimpses of such a world, but the more he learned, the more he realized that world was still a very long ways away.