Chapter Seventeen: To Play the Fool
As Ed Lane stalked through the hallways of his boss's apartment complex, he checked his watch and glanced over at Wordy. His best friend grimaced – they were cutting it close on when the Sleeping Potion from Neal would run out – but trying to get everything in place at the barn for Elias had taken longer than they'd thought.
"Ed, even if the potion runs out, it doesn't mean he'll wake up," Wordy murmured.
"Tell that to Greg if one of his kids gets hurt," Ed countered.
The big constable winced at the direct hit, but held firm. "Ed. The kids aren't helpless. They're a lot tougher than we give 'em credit for."
The sniper Sergeant blew out his breath. "They shouldn't have to be."
"And Morgana and her sister should pick on people who can fight back." Wordy shrugged. "Life's not fair, Ed."
No, no it wasn't, but that didn't stop him from wishing it was. Particularly when his teammates were on the line. Especially when Greg was on the line – again. Deep inside, the need clawed at him and he struggled to push it away. To silence the hawk shrieking in the back of his brain because the links were down and Greg was gone. No matter what it took, they were going to get him back. They just had to find a solution that their too-stubborn-for-his-own-good boss would go for.
Rounding the final corner, the two men closed in on Parker's apartment and Ed eased his cell phone out to text 'Lanna. She might be the youngest of the three teens, but she had a pretty good head on her shoulders. Not to mention, Lance had looked kinda under the weather the night before and Dean was still learning about all the magic…craziness.
Her reply brought a scowl to his face and he held up the phone for Wordy to see. The brunet constable leaned in, squinting in the poor light, then winced. Elias, it seemed, had woken up long before he should've, but the kids were distracting him with breakfast. Oh, and he'd managed to trigger the summoning rune on his holster while Dean had been helping him put the armor back on.
Ed was – not pleased – that any of the kids had gotten within arm's reach of the gryphon, but he was even more unhappy that Neal's little Sleeping Potion hadn't lasted as long as advertised. He and the Junior Auror would have words over that snafu. In the meantime, he waited for the sound of the inside locks to turn; Lance pulled the apartment door open a second afterwards.
"You okay, kiddo?" Wordy asked.
Despite a lingering exhaustion in the back of sapphire eyes, the teenager nodded and stepped back, opening the door enough for the two officers to enter.
Ed waited until they were inside and the door was closed to speak. "I thought we told you three to stay away from Elias."
Lance stiffened a hair, then smirked. "You forgot to tell him that."
Word groaned. "He woke up and came lookin' for you guys?"
"Something like that," Lance agreed. "We're all in the kitchen; he was pretty hungry this morning."
Although not entirely appeased, Ed let the subject drop and followed the teenager deeper into the apartment. In the small kitchen area, he noted that Alanna and Dean were on one side of the kitchen island and Elias was on the other side, finishing up a plate of sausages. To Ed's private astonishment, the kids had somehow managed to teach the gryphon how to use a fork instead of messily eating with his fingers, giving wounded keens in between bites over his lack of talons.
Elias glanced up from his meal, scarlet brightening at the new arrivals. "Eddie! Wordy!"
His back molars ground together – Elias had no right to use Greg's name for him – but Ed forced himself to smile. "Mornin', buddy. Ready to go?"
The gryphon adopted a hopeful look. "Fledglings come?"
Both officers grimaced – it was one thing for the gryphon to be close to the kids overnight, but for an entire day? No, Elias hadn't hurt anyone yet, but neither did he have Greg's experience with holding back his gryphon strength.
Ed opened his mouth to refuse, but scarlet flashed challenge. "Want Fledglings," Elias insisted, crossing his arms. "Not leave without."
Well, that changed the picture – the Sergeant doubted even Wordy could budge that stocky, solid form when Parker got this stubborn. Plus, they didn't need the gryphon shrieking like a banshee just as they were trying to sneak him out of the building.
"If we come, we can hide the gryphon features," 'Lanna offered, jumping in at the waver on Lane's face. "I can even hide his eyes."
That was tempting. Very tempting if Ed was being honest with himself. Gryphon features and scarlet eyes under the bright light of day? He and Word had almost chickened out and called Giles to Side-Along Elias again, splinched flight feathers notwithstanding.
"Okay, you three can ride with Ed," Wordy stepped in.
'Lanna shook her head at once. "I can't hold the illusion if I get too far away from him. Besides, he can't use a seatbelt with wings; the boys can hold him still."
Elias's expression turned smug, but Wordy wasn't so easily beaten. "We know he can't use a seatbelt. Sam's waiting with my van and he'll catch a ride home with Jules today." He crossed his arms. "You can ride in my front seat, but the boys go with Ed or no deal."
The three teenagers traded glances and Ed was surprised when they also looked to Elias, as if seeking his input. After all, it wasn't like the gryphon could offer them advice – it was just a dumb, vicious, wild animal. Elias gazed back at the kids with wide-eyed expectation, so unlike Greg that it took an iron effort to keep his stomach in place.
Even when Alanna moved to the gryphon's side, murmuring a spell to disguise him as human, he never looked like Greg. Not with a naïve innocence more akin to a special needs child than a full-grown adult seasoned by a lifetime in law enforcement.
If it weren't for the whole Statute of Secrecy thing, Greg would've had his kids film every instant of his performance and submit it to the Gemini Awards (8). Even with his gryphon side's memories of the day before, it was taking all his negotiation experience plus his minimal talent for acting to keep playing the fool – literally.
In the back of his mind, he made a note to take his kids out to their favorite restaurant once he was done chewing his team up one side and down the other. As hard as playing the fool was for him, keeping straight faces when they knew better had to be even harder.
So he snuck a quick grin at Alanna as soon as Eddie and Wordy's backs were turned, grin widening at her tiny giggle as she cast an illusion to hide his gryphon features. He smoothed out his expression, burying his intelligence beneath his wild side's bland wide-eyed façade, managing to have it in place just before his Sergeant turned around again.
"Okay, let's go," Ed ordered, so on-edge that Greg felt a stab of regret for putting his friends through the wringer. But…
If he didn't make sure they learned their lesson, then what about the next time? He was under no illusions – the demons behind the Old Religion saw them as a threat. Him, his kids, his team – heck, probably the whole SRU. Those demons – they would never stop. Worse, they'd already nearly manipulated his team into giving up their Free Will. They knew he was his friends' weak point. A trigger guaranteed to send them into a frenzy, desperately latching onto any solution in sight – and never mind if it was a good solution.
He had to find a way to eliminate that weakness. Or minimize it, at the very least. Because the night before had been way too close – and it never should've gotten that far. He knew Marina had accurately recorded his warnings. Knew she'd given those warnings to his team; for crying out loud, they'd discussed those warnings with Team Four!
His three warnings – that had been the nice way. But his friends had been so determined to just get him back that his gryphon side had ended up with a nasty migraine, the remnants of which he was still nursing. Not to mention that geas hitting him bad enough that he'd come home with a 'sick magical core' – privately, the lieutenant was angry that his kids had felt forced to sneak into a bedroom where his gryphon form was sleeping! If he hadn't woken up as himself… Well…his gryphon form probably wouldn't have hurt his kids. At least, not intentionally. It was the unintentional possibilities that would give him nightmares for weeks to come.
So, no, in the end, he didn't feel bad at all over the con job he was pulling on Ed and Wordy. He was going to make them sweat – and maybe then, they'd learn not to put one man above the needs of the many. Especially when the many included his three kids.
Behind the 'idiot' mask, Parker winced at the sight of Winnie instead of Kira at the dispatcher desk. It made sense; Kira had pulled overtime the night before to help with his and Marina's kidnapping; but the lieutenant felt bad that Winnie was getting caught in the middle when she was already struggling with Spike's blindness, his PTSD – and her own guilt over turning Spike down months earlier.
He shuffled behind Eddie, but without 'Lanna's illusion, wings were impossible to hide; Winnie stared, jaw dropping open as she took in her boss's half-human, half-gryphon form. He wanted to flush, to rub behind his neck in a sheepish motion, and maybe even apologize – but that wasn't what his tactless wild side would do. So instead he perked up his lionish ears and wings, gazing intently at Winnie for a second or two before bounding out from behind Eddie; the sniper grabbed him and he cast the Sergeant a wounded, hurt expression even as he silently thanked the other man for keeping him from scaring their dispatcher.
Even with Ed's intervention, Winnie jumped. "Sir?"
"He's not the Sarge," Wordy explained in a curt tone. "Kira leave you a note?"
"She did, but…" Winnie's eyes shifted between the three men and the three teenagers, fearful and uncertain. "Can you fix it?"
"We're workin' on it," Ed replied. "Just gotta find a solution our friend Elias here will go for."
Scarlet narrowed in true anger and it was all Greg could do to swallow down his first, second, and third retorts. That would give the game away and he wasn't quite ready to drop the hammer. No, he wanted to make sure all his targets were present. Team One, Team Four, and their pet Court Physician. He wanted Gaius Wilson, Conclusion Jumper Extraordinaire, to come back in with whatever research he could find on Old Religion Judgment spells. While the lieutenant was fairly sure he knew what the answer would be, he had to be sure. Had to make sure that the two SRU teams involved knew that answer, too – whatever it was. And then, he could read every last one of them the riot act.
In the meantime, Parker clung to his 'dumb-as-a-bucket-of-rocks' act, letting out an unhappy whistle-keen that Ed wasn't letting him greet a Pride-Friend. The taller man rolled his eyes, but released Greg's arm; the stocky figure immediately bounced over to the dispatcher desk, giving her his best happy-go-lucky smile.
"Morning, Pride-Friend Winnie."
She did her best to smile back – but he could see the fear pooling in her soft brown eyes. Fear because he was acting so out of character and possibly due to his inhuman appearance.
He couldn't leave her like that – with so much fear and no hope. Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he let the stupid grin drop, giving her a quick wink over his real smile. She jumped when his eyes went from scarlet to hazel dappled scarlet – he dropped his chin, giving her a stern look and dared to lift one finger to his mouth in a 'don't-give-it-away' order.
It pained her to obey, but she gave a subtle nod of acceptance. Her fingers clenched as he plastered his 'idiot' expression back in place and scarlet magic obscured hazel irises, but the dispatcher kept quiet, watching the interactions between 'Elias' and the two Team One members. Parker had a feeling she was already putting the pieces together, but he'd come back and explain everything before taking his kids out for their well-deserved acting awards. And maybe, he'd even see if he could slip her an expensive gift card to some place she and Spike liked once the bomb tech finally recovered his sight. See if he could nudge things in the right direction – for both of them.
There was something funny going on. Ed couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something prickling at the back of his mind. Elias was behaving just like he had the night before – overblown enthusiasm for those he knew, digging his heels in to get his way – especially with Greg's kids – and speaking in clipped sentences that revealed just how ill-equipped he was for human interaction. But… There was something that kept bothering him. Something that kept prodding at him. Something that should've been obvious if not for the fact that the 'team sense' was down.
Shame writhed in his gut – he shouldn't need the 'team sense' to read his best friend. When had he gotten so used to that magical sixth sense that he'd stopped honing his instincts and making sure he knew all his teammates' subtle cues? He couldn't be sure, but the Sergeant was sure that they were all guilty of depending more than they should on that magic…crutch.
Setting that aside as an issue to discuss once they had Greg back, the bald sniper pointed Wordy and Sam towards the locker room before leading Elias and the kids out to the training building. Fortunately, no one had disturbed their setup and the gryphon was even agreeable enough that Ed felt safe leaving the four alone until Team One could change into their uniforms.
Greg Parker heaved a sigh of relief as soon as he knew Eddie was out of earshot. It was the work of a moment to let go of his magic and the slight burn from his eyes stopped as they settled back to the dappled hazel that appeared to be 'natural' to his half-and-half form. He suspected the only reason 'Elias's eyes had been stuck on pure scarlet was that 'Elias' had been only half his soul – and the magic half at that.
Turning to his three kids, the lieutenant's shoulders sagged and he rubbed a hand over his head. Then he jumped; he'd forgotten about his lion ears – and they were ticklish. Alanna giggled at the look on his face as he yanked his hand away from the furry, feathery appendages.
The redhead slipped in close, reaching up before he could realize what she was doing; her fingers scratched behind the lionish ears – for an instant, it tickled, then he felt himself relax, a rumbling purr automatically rising from his chest. Parker leaned into the scratching, eyelids lowering to half-mast and purr growing louder the longer his niece worked her fingers into all the good spots; he knew he could move, but had no desire to do so – his gryphon instincts were simply too content to bother.
Past Alanna, he heard Dean ask Lance if they could look around – the officer's smile widened at the curiosity in his son's voice. The younger boy agreed and it didn't take long for the pair to head up the stairs towards the training building's second floor.
"It's okay, Uncle Greg," 'Lanna whispered, right before she giggled again. "It's kinda funny, actually – they're givin' you sidelong looks, like they know something's up, but they can't figure out what."
The thrum-purr stuttered, broken in places by his chuckles – a distant part of Greg's mind wondered how he was managing to make two sounds at once – but he was still too content to voice any reply.
Then one ear swiveled, an beat before he heard a clatter from above. Instinct screamed – he jerked away from Alanna without thought, darting up the stairs and leaving his niece standing with her hand still in mid-air. She stared at where he'd been for an instant, then darted after him.
At the top of the stairs, Parker flung himself backwards, spinning in midair; wings flared out and flapped once, giving him just enough height to push off the floor right behind the stairwell gap. His hands helped him up over one final obstacle and he grabbed both his sons by the scruffs of their necks, yanking them away from the engineered hole in the second level's floor before either one could tumble through.
"Do not," he snarled, dragging them well clear as his chest vibrated with his gryphon half's equally furious growl, "ever scare me like that again. Am I understood, Dean John Parker?"
Dean clung to his father, the fear in his eyes betraying that he hadn't meant to take the tumble Greg had heard. Lance simply tucked in, letting his uncle manhandle them away from danger – if the officer had to guess, Lance had seen Dean fall and tried to help, but instead, both of them had fallen.
Once all three were away from the hole – designed so the 'defenders' could catch 'invaders' by surprise during training exercises – Greg felt the overwhelming emotions ease. He sighed and rested his chin on Dean's head in silent apology; he'd overreacted and he knew it. More than just going ballistic over an accidental fall, the hole wasn't big enough for an adult – or teenager – to fall through. Not even if someone worked at it – which was fairly pointless when the roof was only one more floor up.
"Can we go up?" Lance asked, gently tugging free. At the puzzled glances he received, the brunet shrugged. "You're half-gryphon right now, Uncle Greg. Outside, you'll be able to feel the wind, at least."
Instincts in the back of his mind voiced loud and total agreement with the idea, but Parker frowned. "And if someone spots me from the sky?"
"I can go first and get some notice-me-not wards up," Alanna offered. "Besides, if you're gonna be playing dumb till everyone gets here, that's gonna take awhile." Her smile was sympathetic. "It'll be easier if you're not all wound up the whole time 'cause we're inside."
His frown deepened. "You think I can't handle it?"
"Do you want to handle it?" Dean asked, craning to gaze up at his father. "Dad, we're not doubting you, but there's no way you're one-hundred percent right now."
Dappled hazel closed in resignation and he nodded, accepting the points his kids were making. He wasn't completely on the level again and it wasn't just adjusting to his new partial form – it was the emotional overreactions and perhaps even the two sides of his psyche still trying to mesh back together. Just as Sam had needed to reprocess all his memories after the De-Aging Potion, maybe he needed to reprocess his own identity.
"Okay," he breathed. "Let's go outside."
The partial transformation was odd. Or maybe it was the subtle tension of being neither fully human nor fully gryphon. He had every bit of his human capacity for intelligence. He could think, plan – talk – and yet… His hearing was as acute as it would be if he'd fully transformed. He could fly – with full-grown, human-sized wings – essentially a living example of the X-Man Angel, only with magic instead of a genetic mutation. And if he'd thought his gryphon instincts were hard to handle in his pure human form, it was nothing compared to dealing with them while in his half-and-half form.
Not that he was currently worried about that little fact. Not with his head pillowed in his niece's lap and her fingers working their way back and forth between his furry, feathery lion ears. The boys were tucked in behind him – they'd explored the roof, examined both of his wings from leading edge to trailing edge, and were currently leaning against his bulk while they debated several upcoming video game releases.
One lionish ear flexed idly as Greg mused on how he was perfectly content to just lay here, right in the middle of the day – ordinarily, he'd be on the move, either physically or through reams of paperwork, and far too busy to slow down. Even if he'd had some extra time, he knew he wouldn't have wanted to spend that time just… being. So this…contentment… Lounging around and soaking in the attention… He knew it was the gryphon in him and probably the cat part of the gryphon at that.
So he heard footsteps on the stairs leading up to the roof, but he was far too content to pay them any mind. His eyes were half-closed and he knew 'Lanna probably already had a story ready to go as to why they weren't pure scarlet at the moment. He rumbled a sleepy thrum-purr, too relaxed to bother with speech, and leaned just a bit further into his three kids; joy surged when Dean leaned right back into him.
Then he heard a shout. Started to react, lift his head. Only to squall as something seized hold of one shoulder, dragging him away from his kids and clamping down so hard that it hurt. He tried to squirm free, but the angles were all wrong – his attacker had all the leverage and wasn't surrendering an inch of it!
"Uncle Wordy, stop!" 'Lanna cried. "You're hurting him!"
Parker heard a startled intake of breath, then the vice grip on his shoulder disappeared. Curling in on himself, he sank down on backwards lion knees, opposite hand rising; he touched his shoulder and whimpered, unable to speak for several seconds.
Someone crouched down in front of him and reached; he cringed away, opposite wing flexing forward to ward off any more attacks. "Easy, Sarge, lemme see."
"No." He pulled at his magic, keeping his eyes down until he felt them burn. "You hurt," he accused without a lick of regret for his wild side's tactlessness.
Shame shone in Wordy's gray gaze. "I know; I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, Sarge."
"Why?" He knew his teammates were concerned about his kids being in close proximity to Elias, but he hadn't even been doing anything. Just lying there, getting fussed over – what was threatening about that?
The shame grew and he saw the muscles in Wordy's throat work as he swallowed. "I just…" Wordy pulled back, hugging himself for an instant, and tears shone. "Ever since the dragon, it's been…harder…"
Greg stiffened, but if he asked…he'd give himself away. And this wasn't the type of thing to leave unsettled, even for only a few hours.
"Harder like your Animagus form is acting up?" Lance asked from the side, subtly pointing his uncle towards Alanna.
"Yeah," Wordy admitted even as he tensed up. "No, don't get close to him, kids."
"He'd never hurt us," Alanna countered, dropping down on her heels next to the shoulder Wordy had grabbed. "You could've asked first," she added, acid honing her tongue to a fine edge.
The redhead reached forward and Greg permitted her to touch, though he winced at the flash of pain from his shoulder. Then she tugged at his leather-like jacket, trying to lift the material enough to see his skin; he jerked away involuntarily, a fresh wail erupting as his back screamed.
"Easy, 'Lanna, his armor's merged with him right now," Lance cautioned, pulling his sister back before she could grab the jacket again. "We're gonna have to be really careful; that's a really bad spot." Glancing up, he added, "Dean, I'll take off the vambrace on this side. Can you and Uncle Wordy get the jacket unzipped?"
Parker held as still as possible while his sons and Wordy worked; the vambrace removal was easy, even if it left his arms feeling slightly unbalanced. Unzippering the jacket was more tricky – as the zipper slid down and the leather began to hang more from his shoulders, his injured shoulder protested and there was an even fainter protest from his back at the change in position. He dreaded the operation to get the jacket off his arm, though it was necessary unless he was willing to admit surrender on his plan to Drop the Hammer.
How had Wordy managed to injure his shoulder that badly in only seconds? He knew better than to voice that question, particularly with the guilt written all over his constable's face, but it was certainly something that would need to be addressed as soon as possible. If his friends' Animagus forms were acting up, they'd need to figure out why and how to fix it. Preferably before his team lost the very same control he'd fought so hard to preserve.
Once the zipper was all the way down and the vambrace was removed, Greg braced himself as much as he could, unable to help a slight whimper of pain and fear as he anticipated what had to come next.
Wordy cringed at that fearful sound from his boss. His best friend – he'd hurt his own best friend badly enough that even the slight pressure of a jacket was painful. His throat worked in another swallow and he reached for the hem of the jacket, bracing himself to cause more pain to Sarge.
"Wait," 'Lanna ordered. "Dean, help me get him on his side." Dean obeyed and Elias didn't fight at all as he was lowered to rest on his good shoulder. Easing down next to the gryphon's head, Alanna explained, "I can't risk using a numbing spell, but his instincts are really strong right now."
The big constable was confused as to how 'strong instincts' would help them – right up until she started scratching behind the furry, feathery ears on top of Sarge's head. He relaxed immediately, albeit not completely. The longer she worked, though, the more he relaxed, until he was almost as relaxed as he'd been right before Wordy had let his own instincts get the better of him. There was even a faint purr vibrating the air.
While Alanna kept Elias as calm and still as possible, Wordy and Lance carefully worked the armored jacket off the stocky figure's left arm and pushed the gray undershirt down, exposing a shoulder that was already bruised and turning dark from the damage inflicted. As gently as possible, Wordy felt around the area, searching for any signs of broken bones underneath the skin. Elias flinched from his touch, purrs vanishing into whimpers; bewildered scarlet asked the same question Wordy kept asking himself.
Why? Why had he panicked so badly that he'd grabbed hold with every bit of his draft horse strength? Worse, when he'd done it and he'd been dragging the gryphon away from Sarge's kids, he'd felt a savage glee – the urge to clamp down even harder. Make sure the predator knew to stay away from his herd. But…but Sarge was part of his herd!
Sarge might be, but this thing is not.
Wordy stilled – where had that come from? It was his inner voice, but with a savage edge that felt…alien. Not him. Worse, he could feel it egging him on – whispering that he needed to make sure this thing in his friend's body knew its place. Knew it wasn't trusted, wasn't one of them. Not part of Team One – that spot was reserved for Sarge alone.
[8] Yes, Flashpoint won (and was nominated for) a number of awards during its run, including quite a few Gemini Awards.
Author Note: Well, I hope everyone enjoyed (when you're done shouting at Wordy, that is).
In Real Life news, I have had my last meeting with my story coach (last Friday). I am quite certain I will be reaching out to her again, but hopefully it will be in the form of developmental edit instead of a 9 month long story coaching arrangement - wow, has it really been that long? I hope (and pray) that I have learned the lessons which the Lord sought to teach me with this experience.
At any rate, a developmental edit might mean more money upfront, but it will also be far cheaper. When it comes, of course, since I have quite a bit of work ahead of me. As of this past weekend, I did complete a major rewrite of Small Beginnings and I hope that the story is much improved due to that rewrite. I am now going through the manuscript to tighten up the prose and hunt down areas where POV isn't as clear as it should be or I've gotten too creative with nouns, etc, etc.
One key lesson from my story coach which I will happily share here: You know all that stuff from creative writing teachers, about how you're supposed to vary your terms and avoid repetition? When it comes to certain parts of storytelling, that's hogwash.
For instance, when referring to a character (let's call him Dave), we authors should only refer to Dave by his name, nickname, or by his pronouns: he/him/his. We authors cannot, for example, say: Dave set down the book and the tall man (Dave) turned to grab his pen.
The key is not to be as varied as possible, like children playing with all the chalks in the box, but to maintain consistency for our readers. Yes, it's very dull to only use Dave's name, nickname, and pronouns. Take that to a writer's group and they'll be complaining about the lack of variety straight off! Problem is, the readers are more interested in what Dave is doing and they can't figure that out if they're constantly trying to keep up with all the new terms we authors are using to refer to Dave.
Which, well, I've been guilty of the 'let's be creative' approach far too many times to count as I'm sure all of my readers can attest to. While I won't be going back and editing any of my already-completed "It's a Magical Flashpoint" stories, I'm definitely applying this advice to Small Beginnings and all of my fanfiction stories which I have yet to write.
At any rate, I hope all of my readers enjoyed (writing faults not withstanding) and I pray that each and every one of you is Blessed by God on the other side of the screen. = )