Work Text:
Harry sighed when he felt a magical shockwave ripple across the beach house. “Not it!” he called automatically, though he wasn’t quite sure it would be enough this time.
That shockwave had definitely been Fae magic, after all.
“You’re definitely it!” Shayla called back, voice cheery. “I can see them right now and it’s two of yours.”
Of course it was.
And since Shayla was refusing to intervene, thinking that he was the best option to manage whatever squabble had cropped up now, Harry already had a suspicion about who were involved.
He sighed again and flicked a finger at the balcony door, trying not to smile when they burst open. He very much enjoyed the easy use of magic and having so much of it at his disposal.
Sure enough, when he stepped outside and into the sun, it was easy to spot the arguing pair, wrestling on the beach and sending sand flying everything.
The other Gheyos lounging on the beach were giving the pair a wide berth, well-accustomed to this sort of thing happening. They barely batted an eye or even glanced at the two, it was so common.
Well, at least blades hadn’t been drawn yet.
Still—why was it always them?
“Wikhn, Nyx,” he called out.
They immediately stilled at the sound of his voice.
When the sand died down enough so that he could see their faces, Harry fixed the Fae with an exasperated, mildly disappointed look.
The exasperation was probably a bit much, but it was already the second time today.
And it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
The two Gheyos drooped slightly at his look, their shoulders slumping.
Harry waited a minute, before he raised a hand and crooked two fingers, beckoning for them to come inside.
Then he turned around and headed back inside, not bothering to wait and see if they would comply.
He already knew they would.
He met them in the kitchen, where preparations for lunch were just beginning.
Perfect.
“You’ve got volunteers for dish duty,” he informed Quinn and Dyshoka, and the Pareya assisting them. The two Healers would love to do it all themselves, but they also had their own jobs and paperwork to do and there was just too many in their Circle for two people to handle all the cooking by themselves, so some delegation always happened. He ignored Wikhn and Nyx’s indignant squawks at his proclamation. “If they break any, they’ll buy you a new set.”
“…even if magic will fix it?”
“Even if magic will fix it,” Harry confirmed. He fixed the two Fae with another Look. “Really? Twice before lunch?”
Their shoulders slumped again and Harry waited just long enough to watch them go up to the sinks, where the dishes were already starting to pile up, before he went back to what he’d been doing before—supervising his other pair of Fae that liked to squabble.
He’d just gotten upstairs when an explosion rang out from somewhere down on the lower level, where the Mages were gathered together.
“Not it!” he called out.
“On it!” Shayla called back.