Chapter One: On the Philosophy of Lock Changing

Author note: This story is part of the Magical Flashpoint Side Story series. It follows "If Today Was Your Last Day" and comes before "For the Love of Camelot".

Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.

On the Saturday after his nephew had been kidnapped right out of his bed in an apartment that had just had the locks changed, Lieutenant Greg Parker leaned against one of the concrete pillars outside his leasing office, waiting for the office to open for business. He carried a plain manila folder and he was dressed in his SRU uniform, complete with his gun on his belt. While ordinarily, he wasn't one for using his position to gain an advantage, he wanted to remind the leasing office that he wasn't an ordinary tenant. He was a Toronto police officer and they'd known that perfectly well before he and his family moved in. They'd known that perfectly well when he'd requested that they change the locks on his apartment and they'd darn well known that when they'd lied to him and claimed they had.

Movement inside the office brought Greg more to his feet, but he waited until the leasing office door swung open before he moved. The young woman in the doorway regarded him with light blue eyes, wary and nervous of the police officer on her business's front doorstep. Long black hair hung down her back and around her face, one lock of hair dangling over her left eye. She couldn't be more than thirty and Parker suspected she was a new employee. Her nametag appeared to be brand-new and her demeanor lacked the confidence of most frontline employees.

"Can I help you, Officer?" she inquired, stepping back to give him access to the doorway.

Hazel flicked briefly to the nametag again. "Jennifer, is your boss in?" Greg asked gently.

"I'm afraid not, sir; the assistant manager and manager don't work on weekends," Jennifer replied, anxiety increasing. "What seems to be the problem, sir?"

Greg allowed a quiet sigh and gestured for Jennifer to return to her desk. "Miss, is there anyone you can call? I'm willing to wait, but what I have to say is above your pay grade."

"Has something occurred in our complex, Officer?" Jennifer asked, wringing her hands.

He was scaring her. Deliberately, Greg sat down, putting himself on her level, and laid his manila folder on the marble surface between them. "My name is Greg Parker and I live in this complex," he explained. "Something has occurred; that's what I need to speak to your bosses about." He judged her a moment longer, then added, "I don't think you had anything to do with what happened; that's why I'd rather deal with someone higher up."

Jennifer blinked, then drew back, visibly pulling herself together. "You live…ummm…could I get your apartment number, Officer Parker?"

Greg gave her the number and waited as the raven worked with her computer. Beneath the surface, his tension vibrated, but he would not take his anger out on this poor office worker who was only doing the best she could in a job she probably hadn't had for more than a couple weeks.

After a minute or two, Jennifer turned back to him. "I can give you the number for our corporate resident hotline, but I don't think I can get either of our managers in here on the weekend, sir." She sank down as she spoke, blushing furiously.

Parker debated, then leaned forward. "Jennifer. I am not asking you to give me any numbers, but if you had to call your manager, would you be able to?"

She bit her lip, but reluctantly dipped her chin.

"All right." Greg flipped his folder open and drew out the police report for Team Three's visit to his apartment. "Last Saturday, I requested that the locks be changed on my apartment, Jennifer. Do you see that in your computer?"

She checked her screen. "Yes, sir. The locks were changed that day."

The stocky man nodded, tugging out the paper he'd gotten, confirming that the work had been done. It was a copy rather than the original, since the original was still in evidence, but it would do. "Yes," he agreed. "I was present when the maintenance man changed my locks and at the time, I was satisfied."

"At the time, sir?"

Grim, Parker passed over the police report. "On Monday, my nephew was kidnapped out of my apartment by my ex-girlfriend. She had a key to my old lock and it worked just fine in the new lock." He waited for Jennifer to pale, then continued, "The reason it's taken me until today to come in is because I was at the hospital until my nephew recovered."

The young woman lost another few shades of color and swallowed hard. "And you would like to know what happened, sir?"

"I know what happened, Jennifer," Greg replied, keeping his voice gentle with an effort. "I didn't stand over the maintenance man as he changed my locks and I took his word for it that the locks had been changed, but clearly they were not. Not unless your complex is in the habit of using the same key combination for multiple apartment doors." He studied her expression, then shook his head. "I think it's time you called your manager and told him that he needs to come in."

"Yes, Officer Parker," Jennifer whispered through white lips.

It took over an hour for the manager to arrive and the man stalked into the office, annoyance vibrating around him. Without glancing at the uniformed officer who rose from the leasing office's cluster of chairs, he glared at his employee. "You called me at home? On a Saturday? I thought I made myself clear: you run the office on weekends, Ms. Darlain."

"Yes, sir, but…"

"But nothing, Ms. Darlain. If you feel you can't handle a little office work…"

Greg moved between the angry man and his employee, cutting off the rant as the manager took in the sight of a uniformed police officer in his leasing office. "Jennifer has been very helpful," the officer remarked, keeping his tone level. "She contacted you at my insistence, sir." Gesturing to the small office area nearby, Parker added, "Perhaps we should discuss this further in your office, Mr…?"

"Alex Mueller, Officer," the manager replied, anger dropping away into a conciliatory manner that Greg recognized as an attempt to set him at ease. Green eyes inspected him from within a bronzed youthful face, topped by bushy brown hair, though the manager had cut his hair much shorter on the sides. He wore a dark navy polo and black jeans, as though he'd been planning on a family outing of some sort before he'd been summoned back into work.

Though Mueller guided his guest towards the office area, Parker didn't miss the glare sent back in Jennifer's direction and realized the young woman's punishment had only been postponed. The negotiator's hazel narrowed, but he held his silence. There would be time enough to call the manager out for his behavior towards his employee. Accordingly, he waited for the manager to unlock his door and lead the way inside.

As he made his way around his desk, Mueller focused on the uniformed officer. "How can I help you, Officer?"

Greg laid his manila folder on the desk and flipped it open. "My name is Greg Parker and I'm a resident of your apartment complex. I live in Apartment 2473 and last Saturday, I requested that my locks be changed." He nudged the maintenance paperwork towards the manager. "I can confirm that your guy came that day and gave me this after he was done. I got four new keys and I thought that would be the end of it."

Mueller frowned thoughtfully, reaching out to pick up the paperwork. "I take it there's been an issue, Mr. Parker?"

"You could say that," Greg replied, tone dry. "On Monday, my ex-girlfriend got into my apartment with a key I gave her before the locks were changed and kidnapped my nephew who was home sick from school." He plucked the police report out of his folder and proffered it. "Because you didn't change the locks – which I paid for by the way – my nephew ended up in the hospital with a stab wound in his upper thigh and Strategic Response Unit Team Three was pulled away from their regular duties to check my own apartment."

Fury smoldered behind his level, even tone. "Even if I wasn't a cop, behavior like this is unacceptable, sir. Would you pull this stunt on a woman trying to keep her abusive ex-boyfriend out of her apartment? Would you pull this stunt on a tenant who had a break-in and was afraid the robber might've taken their spare key?"

The manager paled; he knew as well as Greg did that the officer now had more than enough justification to break his lease without any financial penalties, particularly since he had documentation of the lock change that hadn't happened. Mute, he took the police report and read through it, turning green at the photos Greg had included of the crime scene and his nephew's injuries.

When he was done, he dropped the report on his desk, swallowing hard. "We will, of course, refund you for the lock change, Mr. Parker, and have new locks put in on Monday."

"Today," Parker growled. "You either change them today or I'm gone. No court in the city would enforce your sixty day notice once they get a look at my evidence." He leaned forward, hazel spitting sparks at the other man. "I believe, Mr. Mueller, you understand now why I insisted on your employee interrupting your weekend, but if she gets fired over this, I will find out. I don't think you would enjoy that." He let the unspoken threat hang, then added, "It gets done now and I'm going to be watching every step this time. Once I'm satisfied that the locks have been changed and the old keys don't work, I'll consider this matter closed. At least for now. But if anything like this happens again…"

"It won't," Mueller promised, sweating as the full force of Parker's angry predator aura hit him. "We'll get it done right now, sir."

It was amazing how fast things could move with the silent threat of a lawsuit hanging over the apartment complex. Mueller personally attended to summoning the maintenance worker and accompanied his employee and his tenant back to Greg's apartment. Parker already had all of the old keys – including Marina's in hand – and he watched closely as the lock on his door was removed and replaced with a brand-new one. Once the new lock was in place, the officer stepped forward and tried every single key he had in the lock before he nodded in satisfaction and traded all the old keys save Marina's for the new keys.

"You still have one," the maintenance worker protested before his boss could stop him.

"My ex-girlfriend's key is evidence," Greg explained in a tight, displeased tone. "It's going back to the evidence locker, but I had to be sure."

The man's eyes widened and Greg saw him mouth 'evidence locker?' before he gulped and ducked behind his boss.

Mueller attempted to rally. "Well, Mr. Parker, as you can see, we've attended to your issue in a timely fashion and…"

He stopped as the stocky officer growled. Hazel hardened into infuriated topaz. "If you had attended to my 'issue' in a timely fashion, my nephew would not have been kidnapped out of his bed in my locked apartment, Mr. Mueller." Parker stepped closer, into the man's personal space, predator aura all but tangible. "I'm satisfied that my locks have been changed this time, but don't flatter yourself, sir. Assuming you're still the manager of this complex when it comes time to decide whether or not I wish to renew my lease, there will be a very long discussion on what policies you and your company have put in place to ensure a situation like this one never happens again to any residents of this complex."

The manager squirmed, but nodded. "Yes, of course, Mr. Parker. If that's all…?"

Greg smiled, allowing Mueller a good look at his teeth, though he resisted the urge to flash his canines. "Have a good rest of your Saturday, Mr. Mueller." As the men backed away, he stomped on one last impulse to point out that he was a police officer. Technically, although he was wearing his uniform, he wasn't on-duty and therefore had no right to demand that he be addressed as an officer. Besides, he'd already extracted a revenge of sorts by cutting off the manager's plan to discipline his employee over a Saturday work call.

Once the men were out of sight, Parker went inside his apartment and inspected the four keys in his hands. He'd have to make duplicates for his commander and his team, but after the events of the past week, it would be a very long time before he trusted anyone outside his closest friends and family with the key to his front door.

Although…hmmm… The night he'd been at his nipotes' apartment, he'd had a faint sense of active magic the entire time he was inside the apartment. He would need to get the details from Lance, but perhaps he could arrange for something similar with his own apartment. That might be safer and more secure than just relying on a key.

To himself, he nodded. He would give it a bit of time – Lance still needed to catch up on his homework and his other two children had been badly frightened by the kidnapping and subsequent hospital stay – but once the immediate issues were taken care of, he could investigate a better security system.

Decision made, Greg headed to his kitchen to drop off three of the keys and pick up the pamphlets for the schools Marina had been pushing at his nipotes. The lock changing had taken longer than he'd wanted it to, but if he moved fast, he could still visit both schools in one day.

Author note: On a side note, I have posted another piece of commissioned artwork over on Archive of Our Own. It is by the same artist who did Illishar and she did a wonderful job. I have added the second piece to the same 'story' as the first piece of artwork; I'd add a link straight to the second 'chapter', but unfortunately, it will get stripped out posthaste.

Please head on over to Ao3 and take a look; I'd love to hear what people think of our second Animagus.