Charmed

Posted by PK on October 02, 2001 at 18:38:56:

THREE'S THE CHARM

A twisted piece of self-indulgent fan fiction by PK

WARNING! Those who take the TV series 'Charmed' too seriously had better not
read on....

The Halliwell sisters were watching television when the stranger walked in unannounced.
Well, they can't spend all the time in the kitchen, can they? He was a normal enough looking
man, neither very young nor very old, casually dressed. He wasn't bad looking in an offbeat
way, not exactly Tom Cruise but not Bela Lugosi either. "Good evening, ladies," he said
pleasantly. He had an English accent.

Prue bristled immediately. "Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?" she demanded.

"Through the front door," said the stranger. "You really should try locking it."

"Hmmm..right...er, what do you want, then?"

"Prue! Where are your manners?" Phoebe reproved her. "Would you like a coffee?" she
offered, managing to make it sound coyly suggestive.

"That's very kind of you, but I'd prefer tea, if you have it," the stranger replied. "milk, no sugar
please."

"I'll get it," said Piper, dashing past her sister, who followed her hastily into the kitchen.
Sounds of a muted argument ensued. Prue stared balefully at the stranger who shrugged and
dropped casually into an armchair. There was an awkward silence for a couple of minutes as
they both pretended not to be trying to hear what the argument was about. Soon enough,
Piper and Phoebe reappeared bearing various cups and they all settled down, each of the
three girls curious for her own reasons about what the visitation portended.

"So what have you come here for?" Prue resumed. "Don't tell me, you're another warlock
after our powers, right?"

"Your powers? What, unreliable precognition? I'll pass, thanks. Telekinesis? Been there,
done that, got the T-shirt. The freezing one is a nice trick, I'll grant you," he allowed, nodding
at Piper. "Doesn't affect me, of course."

"The Book of Shadows?"

"Read it years ago. Ever heard of public libraries?"

"So what DO you want?" Prue pressed.

The stranger smiled and gestured with his hand. "You lot, of course. Yourselves. Your tasty
little bodies."

"What for?" asked Piper blankly and Phoebe rolled her eyes.

"I think I can guess," she said flatly.

"What?" Piper still didn't get it.

"He's either going to sacrifice us to Satan, eat us alive, or make us his sex slaves or..."
Phoebe looked at the stranger again, less sure. "Hey, what are you going to do?"

"Don't stop, you were doing quite well," he said, still smiling. "Actually, I rather thought I'd eat
you raw." He shrugged apologetically. "As for you," he turned to Piper, "I've got a lot of
guests this weekend. Big dinner party. I'm going to need a good sized roast, a really tasty
centrepiece for the feast. You're in catering, I'm sure you know what that's like..."

Piper nodded in automatic sympathy.

"..So I'm going to roast you."

The implication dawned on her. Better late than never. "Me?" she squeaked.

"What do you think you're going to do with me then?" asked Prue dangerously. "Feed me to
your pet demon?"

"Demons? Heaven forfend," the stranger said, chuckling. "I suppose I could throw you to the
alligators or something afterwards, if you insist....."

"What then? After what? Spit it out."

"Well, I thought we could start with a nice candlelit supper, followed by a vigorous bout of
oral stimulation for desert, and then...oh, use your imagination." He grinned.

"Oh wow, Prue finally gets laid," muttered Phoebe. Piper giggled and Prue glared at them.

"How exactly do you intend to defeat us?" she wondered. "It's been tried before."

"Very simple," said the stranger easily. "I'll just take you on now. As opposed to dithering
around for a few days so that, when you can take time off from moaning about your love
lives, you can come up with a counterattack."

"Not bad," Phoebe admitted.

"He's got us," muttered Prue. "That's where they usually go wrong."

"Hey, that's not fair!" Piper exclaimed. "We should get at least an hour or two to bitch and
squabble and make up again..."

"And put on some sort of show," Phoebe added. "Come on, be a sport."

The stranger considered this. "Fair enough," he said at last. "It won't make any difference, but
I need to pick up some beer, anyway. I'll be back in..." he pursed his lips..."maybe an hour.
That okay?"

"Fine," said Phoebe. Piper gave her a look of sheer disbelief as the stranger left.

"Fine?" she said sarcastically.

Prue put her head in her hands. "Just what we needed," she grumbled. "Another English
villain."

"Dreamy accent," said Phoebe gazing into space. "I wonder how he's going to do it? I mean,
he can't just eat me the way he is..."

"He must be a shape changer," Piper offered. "We've had those before. He'll probably turn
into an ogre or something. Maybe a big black cat..." she trailed off, eyes losing focus. "a big,
powerful, masculine beast..."

"Will you two cut it out, " Prue snapped. "He'll be back in an hour. What are we going to
DO?"

Phoebe pulled herself together with an effort. "Oh God, you're right," she said in a panic. "I'll
need a shower. I don't want to taste all sweaty and yucky. Do you think I need a manicure?"
She offered her nails to Piper.

"I think they're okay," she replied. "Don't be too long in the bathroom, will you? I'd better get
cleaned up myself...."

"And shaved," Phoebe grinned wickedly.

"What? Where? Oh...." Piper glanced inadvertently down at herself and flushed. "Oh my
God, do you really think...?" Another implication struck her. "I'm going to be naked! In front of
people!"

"Well, he's not going to cook and serve you with your clothes on," Phoebe retorted, "So I
wouldn't waste too much time picking out your best black dress."

Piper pouted at her. "This should have been your gig, you're the exhibitionist. Why didn't he
pick me to eat alive?"

"I don't know what you're complaining about. In one hour, I'm going to be a fast snack. You're
going to get all the attention. In fact, from what I've heard, you're going to get a nice, long,
thick pole shoved right up your..."

"Phoebe!!" they exclaimed in unison.

The next hour produced nothing useful. Despite Prue's best efforts to rally them, her sisters
seemed almost to have accepted their impending fates. It was odd, but Prue had to admit her
own frantic efforts had produced no more tangible results. There was nothing in the Book
about ordinary looking Englishmen who said they were going to eat you. None of them had
any idea what to do. Piper's pragmatic suggestion that they split up and run for it was
rejected. Everyone knows that trick never works, alone they could be picked off more easily.
They simply decided to stand and deal with it together. Somewhere along the way, though,
Phoebe and Piper both found time to freshen up.

"I mean, if the worst really does happen, you know?" Piper explained.

"We just don't want to go out grungy. Like being in a car crash with your bad underwear on,"
Phoebe added. "Too gross..."

"What happened to positive thinking?" Prue complained. "Come on, you guys, get yourselves
together! We don't even know if he can do anything yet and you're acting as if it's all over.
Phoebe, are you getting any flashes?"

Her sister closed her eyes and concentrated for a minute. Then she opened them, very wide.
"Uh oh.. " she said.

"You got something?"

"You don't want to know."

"Come on, you've got to tell us," Piper insisted.

"Sis, you REALLY don't want to know."

"It's going to be the spit?"

"It's going to be the spit."

Piper clenched her teeth and winced. "But maybe we can still stop it. That's how it works,
right?"

"Right," said Prue. "That's more like it. Come on, people, ideas?"

In all too short a time the stranger was back. Nobody actually saw him come through the door
(Prue could have sworn she'd locked it) but there he was.

"Hello again, ladies," he said brightly. "Ready for supper? Oh, I see you've showered." He
smiled at Phoebe, looking pink and freshly scrubbed in her bathrobe. "How thoughtful. Thank
you."

She smiled back before she caught herself wondering why. "I didn't put any perfume on," she
found herself saying. "Piper thought it wouldn't be a good idea...."

"Then I have you both to thank," the stranger said graciously giving Piper a flash of the smile
too. "Quite right, of course."

"You know how it is with cats..." Piper said and tailed off. The stranger acknowledged this
with a slight smile and a gracious nod.

"Well, let's get on with it," he said. "I don't know about you but I'm feeling a bit peckish. If
you'd just disrobe, please?"

"Aren't you going to fight us?" Phoebe wondered. She sounded dazed.

"Oh, I'd really rather not. Gets a bit boring after a while, don't you think, all that noise and
running about? Come on, dear sweet girl, don't be shy..."

"Wait a minute," said Prue hastily. "Don't you think it would be polite to answer a few
questions first? Like why you're doing this and what your name is? We haven't even been
introduced." She hoped that a British villain would at least respond to a challenge to his
manners. She was right.

"This is where I tell you my evil plans while you stall for time and try to work out how to
defeat me, right?" He smiled. "Well, you're quite right, of course, I didn't tell you my name.
Quite rude of me. It's not Rumplestiltskin, I'm afraid. It's Eric. I'd like to give you something
more impressive, but all the good names are gone. If I can't be Dr. Strange, why bother?"

"You don't seem like the usual sort of warlock we come up against," Prue prompted.

"A warlock? I should think not, if by that you mean one of those thinly disguised Satanists you
usually fight. Making pacts with netherworld creatures - demons, if you like - it's a mugs
game. The slightest thing goes wrong and they turn on you, and you get gobbled up or
incinerated. Go up in flames at the drop of a hat, those Evil Cultist types. You'd think they'd
learn, wouldn't you?" He shook his head at the folly of it all.

"So what are you? How did you get your powers, and while we're at it, what are they
anyway?"

"A magician, I suppose you could say. How? well, I certainly wasn't bitten by a radioactive
fairy or abducted by aliens. Nor did I inherit a magic ring from my strange old great aunt
Edna, that doesn't happen in real life. No offense. You get magic powers the way you get
anything else worth having, you study and you work hard."

"What are your powers, anyway?" Prue persisted.

Eric smiled. "Very good question. I think a demonstration would be in order, don't you agree?
Which means, as you Americans say, it's showtime. Phoebe, come on down! Or rather, I'd
appreciate it if you'd get your kit off. Very nice robe, but I don't want it stuck in my teeth."

Phoebe rose and removed her bathrobe, stepping out of her bunny slippers. Naked and
defenseless, she moved forward as if hypnotised. Piper tried to freeze time, but nothing
happened. Prue frowned and threw a psychokinetic mule kick that should have knocked Eric
right through the wall, but nothing happened.

"The most effective powers are the subtle ones, don't you think?" said Eric nonchalantly. "It
doesn't matter how powerful your opponents if they can't act. Not very spectacular, though.
Not good box office. Maybe you'll prefer this."

With no further preamble, he changed. There was no light show or morphing, where a normal
man had been there was suddenly a Thing, simple as that. A very big, humanoid thing with a
very big head and, you've guessed it, very big teeth. And a very big, well, masculinity shall
we say.

"Oh my God, it's an ogre," Piper whispered. She tried to pull Phoebe back with a suddenly
enfeebled arm, but her sister brushed off her nerveless fingers. "Get your own date," she
murmured.

"Why are you doing this?" Prue cried desperately. "What have we ever done to you?"

The ogre turned its ugly face to her and growled something thickly. It sounded like 'All work
and no play. Everybody need a hobby.'

Readers of a tender disposition may prefer to skip the next bit. No? Bunch of ghouls, the lot
of you. Oh well, all right...

The thing just picked Phoebe up and ate her like a hungry man devouring a small roast
chicken. She went down in big bites, a piece at a time, while her sisters looked on in horror
and disbelief. They wanted to do something but somehow they simply couldn't. Throughout
the process, the poor girl didn't scream or cry, she just emitted the occasional gasp or sigh as
this or that part of her was bitten off and swallowed. She seemed to remain conscious right
up to the moment the ogre thing popped her head into his mouth and swallowed. She was
gone. The thing patted his slightly swollen belly and belched in satisfaction.

Eric reappeared, wiping his mouth rather more decorously. "Sorry about that," he said. "The
table manners come with the aspect, I'm afraid. I must say, though, she really did taste as
good as she looked."

Piper could only gape in shock at the emptiness where her sister had been a moment ago.
To her further horror and shame, she noticed that she was decidedly damp between the legs,
and not just from the shower. There was little point agonising over this, though. She wouldn't
be around long enough for it to matter. Tomorrow was Saturday. She was almost relieved.

As if reading her mind, Eric smiled and beckoned. "Time to go," he said. "I have guests to
feed tomorrow, you wouldn't want to be unprepared, now would you?"

Piper moved forward as if her limbs weren't her own. Prue tried to scream 'NO!' but it came
out as a feeble croak. As the pair started to leave she heard them talking as if in a nightmare.

".....nice Californian ale I just ordered, not that canned gnat's pee you Yanks usually mistake
for beer..."

"... prefer wine..."

"..not to worry, we have a nice red that should go well with you...."

"Stop it," Prue managed. "If it's me you want..."

Eric turned to her, holding Piper by the shoulder in a proprietory manner. "Oh, I haven't
forgotten you," he said. "Dinner at eight on Sunday suit you? I'll bring the drinks." He blew her
a kiss and she watched him leave, her sister following meekly, a lamb to the slaughter.
****

It was minutes but it seemed longer before Prue came to herself. The loss of Phoebe was
devastating, but she couldn't think about that. Piper was still alive and she had to save her.
But how? She knew nothing about Eric, had no idea where he came from or where he had
taken Piper. 'From England' wasn't enough. A small country? There are millions of people in
it, she vaguely remembered, and she didn't even know Eric's full name. Besides, for all she
knew he was going to roast her here, in the US. It was hard not to panic or despair, but she
was made of sterner stuff than that.

For a while she simply wandered through the empty house, trying to understand what had
happened. Then her attention was caught by a pencil on a desk. Could she still move it? She
concentrated hard, tried to nudge it just a little bit, scowled at it...

The pencil flew across the room and struck a wall so hard it shattered. Her power was back, it
seemed.

Prue spent the rest of the day in research. She read the Book of Shadows until the writing
blurred. She surfed the Net. She would have tried psychometry if Eric had left anything to
work with. In the end, numb with grief and exhaustion, she went to bed.

On Saturday, she finally tried a mundane approach and reported Piper missing, possibly
kidnapped. It was a meaure of desperation, she knew. Unable to explain how Piper had really
been taken, she was reduced to giving Eric's description as someone she'd seen her sister
talking to recently. The chances of the police even doing anything, much less finding them in
time, were microscopic. It almost occurred to her to wonder why they kept the witchcraft thing
such a big secret anyway. It wasn't as if it was illegal, was it? Maybe she should have made
up a story about Piper being abducted by a serial rapist like the one in that film, preferably at
gunpoint. That would have gotten their attention. Too late...

The day passed like a waking nightmare. Prue continued to research, to contact friends and
colleagues, but she was hamstrung by her previous secrecy. How could she even begin to
convince anyone of her predicament? She had gone to extraordinary lengths to conceal the
fact that she and her sisters were witches, how could she now explain Piper's situation and
expect anybody to believe her? As the day gave way to evening she knew it was too late.
Even now, her sister was probably being cooked. She tried not to imagine it.

Sunday passed in a daze of exhaustion. Eric would be coming for her at eight. Would he kill
her too? She almost hoped so. She had failed her sisters, there was nothing left to live for
except revenge. She would kill Eric if she could, or die trying. But she would have to be
subtle, try to find some way of getting him off guard...

She pulled herself together for the last time. Dinner, was it? All right then. She cooked a
meal, bathed, and dressed for a semi-formal dinner for two. Candles, wine, the whole
shooting match. And a little something extra, just for emergencies. Something she had found
in the attic, the essential component of American domesticity. And she waited.

At eight o'clock precisely, he entered the dining room, formally dressed and carrying a bottle
of wine. "Candles," he said brightly, "how apt. Good evening, Prue."

The meal was an awkward occasion for Prue. She picked at her food, not wanting to alert
him, but she had no appetite and seethed with impatiece. Eric, on the contrary, was relaxed
and urbane, complimenting her on the food, the ambience and her appearance as if this were
an ordinary date. Finally she couldn't wait any longer.

"Where's Piper?" she demanded, "What have you done with her?"

"Eaten her, of course," Eric replied, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "Along with a few close
personal friends. Do you want to guess which part of her I had?" He kissed his fingers. "A
gourmet's delight, your little sister. Quite as good in her way as the other one. Would you like
a full description of the proceedings? It was quite a party, I assure you, and dear Piper really
was the making of it. The life and soul, you might say."

"You bastard," Prue hissed, her eyes filling with bitter tears. "Don't you dare make a joke of it.
You murdered her, just like you murdered Phoebe."

"Are you really sure? She went to the spit like a real trouper," Eric said, with that infuriating
smile. "Once she had accepted her role as the food required in a serious catering crisis, she
was perfectly cooperative. She took the spit as if she was born for it. You should have seen
her wriggle, she enjoyed every minute of the impalement and the cooking. I'm convinced, I
really am, that at the end she realised she'd found her true vocation."

"I don't believe you," spat Prue, her eyes burning with rage as well as tears. "She'd never
agree to that. You made her do it!"

Eric shook his head. "Oh, come on. Do you think I could do all this so easily if there wasn't a
little something in there to work with? Don't tell me all this isn't stimulating you just a little bit?
Repression, it's a terrible thing, don't you agree?"

Prue didn't try to understand, didn't want to. She reached under the table for the gun. It was
a simple, no-nonsense large bore revolver, fully loaded, and she held it in both hands. "Now,"
she said, "You're going to tell me what this is really all about and I just might arrest you and
not shoot you dead right now."

"Arrest me for what?" Eric gestured. "I don't see any bodies..."

"Don't push me," Prue snarled. "You've got ten more seconds to start talking, or by God I'll
blow you away where you sit."

"You know, you really should try swearing by the Goddess a bit more. I know this is America,
but you are supposed to be Wiccan..."

"Three and counting." She cocked the hammer.

"Oh, all right, don't get all hot and bothered. Maybe I just wanted a date with you," Eric said,
with the resigned but relaxed air of one coming clean at last. "You're the one who always
plays hard to get, aren't you? I do so like a challenge. In fact, I always did like spunky
women. The cross I have to bear, I suppose. No offense?"

"A date?" Prue almost spluttered with anger and indignation. "You kill my sisters just to get a
date?? Is this another joke?"

"Well, it did have the virtue of novelty, and it did get your attention," said Eric. "After all, here
we are." he shrugged. "And I didn't just kill your sisters like some common thug, I ate them.
The rest was merely a regrettable but inevitable consequence or that." He made a moue of
polite regret.

"And what regrettable end did you have planned for me? A pit of alligators after a nice spot
of rape?"

"Rape? That's a harsh word. Judgemental, that's the pop psychobabble term, isn't it? No,
what I had in mind was more of a modest proposal. An indecent proposal, I suppose you
prudish colonials would call it. One night of unbridled passion together and perhaps you'll get
your sisters back. I can throw you to the alligators afterwards, if you insist, but it strikes me as
a terrible waste of a perfectly good woman....."

"What did you just say?" Prue cut him off.

"About your fascinating obsession with alligators?" She gestured impatiently with the gun.
"Oh, your sisters. I was hoping you'd spot that one. Well? Do we have a bargain? A pact, as
it were? Speak to me, dear heart."

"But they're dead," said Prue dubiously, "Aren't they?"

"Oh, do come on," said Eric, "Giving up that easily? Don't you know the rules by now? There
are lots of possibilities." He ticked off the options on his fingers. "Illusion, miraculous
resurrection, time travel, dream sequences.....anything goes, you of all people should know
that. It takes more than a little thing like death to stop Xena the Warrior Princess, why should
you be any different?"

Prue lowered the gun. Eric hardly seemed to take it seriously anyway. Could this be true?
Maybe not, but could she afford to assume it wasn't? Definitely not. He had her again.

"All right," she said wearily. "You've got me. Do what you like to me, feed me to your pets
when you're finished, anything. Just bring them back. But if you don't, you'd better be
damned sure you do kill me or I'll kill you, if it takes the rest of my life."

Eric applauded her silently. "Bravo!" he said sincerely. "No less than I expected of you. In
token of good faith however.." He clapped again, loudly. "I had meant to spin this out a little
longer," he added regretfully, "but I couldn't bear the sight of the anguish on that adorable
little face for one moment longer."

"What the hell are you talking about.." Prue began angrily, but a small sound or some instinct
prompted her to look around....

And Piper and Phoebe, clad in half-open bathrobes and barefoot, wandered into the room
looking dazed. They seemed unaware of their déshabillé. Prue screamed and ran to them.
After a frantic round of sisterly hugs and kisses, she stepped back. Though a little dishevelled
they appeared quite unhurt, and as confused as she was. She glanced back at Eric who sat
sipping a glass of wine with an indulgent smile on his face.

"Where have you two been?" She finally demanded. "I thought you were dead!"

"So did I," said Piper at last. "I mean, I saw that Thing eat Phoebe yesterday and the last
thing I remember was being....er...cooked..." She gave her younger sister another hug.
"Great to have you back, Feebs" Phoebe smiled and shook her head. "Me too." she
muttered. She still seemed unsure of her surroundings, as if she'd just woken up.

"That wasn't yesterday, it was, oh never mind...." Prue sighed in relief and resignation.
"Promises to keep. Later." She turned to Eric. "I still don't know what just happened and I
don't guess you're going to tell me, but I made a deal and I'm keeping to it. Whatever you
want from me tonight, you get, it's your call."

"Oh, that's very gracious of you, but I think we've had enough excitement for one weekend,
don't you?" Eric murmured. "Leave 'em wanting more, I always say. And I wouldn't dream of
compromising your virtue on those terms, dear lady. Perhaps another time?" He put down his
glass and stood up.

"You're going?" Piper gasped. "Just like that?"

"Don't hold your breath," muttered Prue. If she'd hoped it to pass unheard she was
disappointed.

"Oh, please don't say that! You wound me, you really do. And I was so looking forward to the
rematch."

"Rematch?" All of them said it at once. Prue looked aghast.

"Of course. You don't think I'm giving up my suit for dear Prue's hand so easily, do you?
Unrequited love is such sweet agony, don't you think? Besides, I'm sure you'll agree there are
mysteries unresolved, issues unexplored - all in all, material for at least a couple of sequels."

"Sequels?" The chorus again.

"Naturally. That's what you girls need, you know, a really good ambiguous arch villain. Give
you a little continuity, put a little drama into your lives, stiffen your backbones. Do you the
world of good, trust me."

"I think we'd rather pass on that," said Prue stiffly.

"Are you sure? I'll bet the naughty Phoebe is just dying to hear what it was like to be, ah,
roasted." The girl in question glanced at her sister guiltily. "And I'm sure sweet Piper has
questions of her own. Care to switch roles next time?" He smiled wickedly. "I think I might
manage something large, dark, feline and furry for you."

Piper made a strangled noise and flushed, as if she wanted to protest but honesty prevented
her. Phoebe giggled. Prue glared them both to silence and turned the look on Eric.

Eric had turned to go, half in the shadow of the door. "Or for you, of course. You never
know. Goodnight ladies," he said, blowing a kiss, and then somehow he wasn't there. Just
like that...

They all started talking at once.

THE END

Cast:

Prue Shannon Doherty
Piper Holly Marie Combs
Phoebe Alyssa Milano
Eric is of course quite imaginary.