A New Reason to Hate Paris

Angus ported into Paris and went some distance from the headquarters and made sure he was alone before he took the vial out of his pocket. Of all of Robert's harebrained plans and schemes, why did he resurrect this old nasty potion? This was the best the wizarding world's spymaster had to offer? Angus sighed, disgusted with the whole idea. Still, though, it was a means to an end, and that was Robert's usual goal. Reluctantly, Angus pulled the cork in the little vial and drank it and tossed the vial in a dumpster.

Before he heard the 'clink' of the bottle against the steel of the dumpster, he felt the spell kick in, and he fell to the ground, not quite expecting it to toss him off balance. He cursed at the pain that was suddenly ripping up his leg towards his spine. And now his frustration was turning to anger at Robert. Was he suffering enough now? Was it realistic enough to suit Robert's purposes? This better bloody work, he thought.

He took hold of the coin around his neck and used it to apparate to the headquarters, knowing he couldn't walk now, and he managed to land on the front stoop. He pounded on the door, wanting to get off his leg as soon as possible. A young ginger answered the door.

"Who are you?" the ginger asked.

"You look too young to even have a key to the potions cabinet," Angus frowned, dangling his gold medallion out to the lad.

"Hey, I'm not that young," the boy scowled, as Angus motioned to the lad to help him in, and the boy shouted for Owens. Well, maybe the game was afoot after all.

"How'd you do this?" Owens asked as they took him down the hall to the nearest room.

"I was on a quick in and out mission for Robert, and I ended up with a little trouble," Angus said. "I did set off one of my alarms, I'm afraid, a blunder on my part." They helped him to the bed and Owens started checking his leg.

"What'd you do to it? Looks like hell."

"Yeah, thanks. I planned to do that," Angus said sarcastically.

"Well, I'm sure someone from London will be coming then, won't they?"

"Likely, yes," Angus said.

Back home, Robert nodded when Jess said she'd stay. He figured she would, despite his offer to the contrary. She was very duty conscious, and tha was an asset. Besides, she was family, and it wasn't like her to want to abandon that.

"Yes, Gelding messed with Brian's head, that's for sure," Robert said. "I think he'll be alright. I actually expected him to be worse, though. He'll sleep a little, but I'll tell Michael to make sure to send up lunch trays for you both. Looks like he's making some sort of homemade soup and sandwiches, I think. Frankly, I'm getting hungry, so it can't be too soon for me."

Brant paced then after an hour he apperated close to the base but still he paused hearing voices close by. Now he cursed himself for having left so soon as soon as the voices faded he glanced at his watch now waiting ten minuets more. He tapped the small vial in his pocket with the antidote for Angus. Now he moved to the door and nocked then waited for some one to answer it before moving inside and looking around.

“ Okay where is he?” Brant asked holding his potions bag in one hand while his medallion glowed faintly under his crisp white shirt that he now wore under the dark blue suit.

Jess heard Robert and nodded then smiled “Thank you and it sounds delicious.” She said chuckling as her own stomach growled once more. She looked over at the sleeping Brian and sighed “ what ever happens we'll stand by him, Jack and I.” she looked back at Robert the determination now etched on her face.

The ginger lad at the door did not remember seeing Brant before, but no one got a medallion unless he belonged. He motioned to Brant down the hallway.

"Second door on the left, across from the Captain's office," the boy said.

"Well," Owens said to Angus, "I haven't used a repair spell on a break like this but I could try."

"How about a spot of pain potion before we do much else?" Angus said, reminding Owens of the organization's general protocol for injuries. The procedure was to stop the pai and then go about getting a healer. It was not about ad-libbing a fix.

"We do that and you won't be going anywhere for a few hours," Owens replied.

"I really don't care," Angus said.

"Alright, alright. I'll go get it. Then you'd better brief me on what exactly happened," Owens said. Angus said nothing. He hadn't actually prepared a story well enough to work, but, if he needed to be Brant's distraction, he'd have to think of something. Buggar.

Michael finished making a homemade tomato soup and ladled it into bowls, and then he stacked some gourmet quality grilled cheese sandwiches on a platter. Then he put together a tray to go upstairs for Jess and Brian and floated it up the stairs as the kids came into the kitchen, complaining they were hungry. Dakota was going to reach and grab one of the sandwiches, but Michael elevated the platter out of her reach, causing the entire lot of kids to get even more frustrated. Michael didn't claim to be a parenting wonder. He was figuring it out one day at a time with his own boys. Where was a more experienced parent when he needed one?