Post by noazmale on Oct 12, 2006 9:28:55 GMT -5
Just an idea I had (during season 7) of how I would have liked to see the series end.
CHARMED
“The Last Farewell”
By J. B. Tilton
Email: noazmale@isot.com
Rating: K
Disclaimer: “Charmed” and all related characters and events are the property of the WB television network, except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.
* * *
The Halliwell manor has been sold.
* * *
A man opened the front door to the manor and walked into the entryway. He was about thirty years old with blonde hair and was wearing what appeared to be a very expensive suit. He put the keys to the manor in his front pants pocket and stood in the entryway looking around. Just then, Phoebe came down the stairs.
“Hello,” said Phoebe, walking up to the man. “I didn’t realize anyone was supposed to be here this early.”
“Patrick Morgan,” said the man, extending his hand. “I’m afraid I’m a bit early. I was supposed to meet the real estate agent out front. I got here a little early so I could take a quick look around the old place.”
“Morgan?” Phoebe questioned, shaking the mans’ hand. “Oh, you’re the new owner.”
“Yes,” said Patrick. “When it came on the market I knew I just had to have it. The craftsmanship is incredible. You just don’t find craftsmanship like this any more.”
“I’m Phoebe Halliwell,” said Phoebe. “I was just upstairs, uh, picking up a last few minute things.”
“Halliwell?” questioned Patrick. “Would that make you the owner?”
“One of them,” said Phoebe. “At least at one time. It was built in 1906 just after the Great Quake. My family has lived here ever since.”
“Yes, I have the entire pedigree of the manor,” said Patrick. “It is quite unique.”
“And unfortunately,” said Phoebe, “it needs a lot of work.”
“Oh, I know,” said Patrick. “That’s one of the reasons I bought it. Most other people would probably just tear it down. I plan to restore it to its original condition.”
“Well, that sound promising,” said Phoebe.
“The Historical Society is thinking about adding this manor to its list of historical monuments,” said Patrick. “Once I’m finished with the restoration it will go a long way to getting it on that list. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you selling it?”
“Oh, uh, well,” said Phoebe, “I’m, uh, moving. Quite a distance away as a matter of fact. I really can’t afford to keep it up any more and maintain a residence in my new home. My older sister moved on a few years ago. And my younger sister moved a short time ago. I haven’t lived here for years. I just thought it was about time to let someone else get some use out of it.”
“Oh, I’ll get use out of it,” said Patrick. “I have a lot of pictures taken of it over the years. When I’m done it should be in better condition than it was when it was first built. It will look exactly as it did in the old days. With updated modern conveniences, of course.”
“Of course,” said Phoebe. “Will you be living in the manor?”
“Probably,” said Patrick. “I just love these old houses. They have such character.”
“We had some good times here,” said Phoebe. “And some not so good times. But mostly I remember the good ones.”
“As it should be,” said Patrick, looking at his watch. “Well the real estate agent will be here in a few minutes. I’m sure she’d be glad to say hi to you.”
“Oh, I’ll be gone by then,” said Phoebe. “Like I said, just picking up a few last minute items.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” said Patrick. “Perhaps we’ll see each other again sometime.”
“Probably not,” said Phoebe. “Like I said, I’m moving very far away. But you never know. Maybe one day.”
Phoebe headed back upstairs as Patrick headed out the front door.
* * *
“Ah, Mr. Morgan,” said the woman walking up the front steps. “You’re early.”
“Yes,” said Patrick. “As I was telling the young woman inside, I wanted to have a quick look around the place before I signed the papers. It’s everything you said it was. More, even. It’s just about perfect.”
“Young woman?” questioned the real estate agent. “There’s someone in the house?”
“Yes,” said Patrick. “She said her name was Phoebe Halliwell. She’s one of the former owners.”
“Mr. Morgan,” said the agent, “that’s quite impossible. Phoebe Halliwell hasn’t been around for, oh, about twenty years.”
“Of course she has,” said Morgan. “She’s right inside. She said she was picking up a few personal items.”
“We’d better call the police,” said the agent.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Morgan.
“Mr. Morgan, you don’t understand,” said the agent. “The owner of the house is Phillip Halliwell. Phoebe Halliwell was his grandmother. She died peacefully in her sleep about twenty years ago. I think the date was October 27, 2053. She was 78 years old. It was all quite sudden.”
“What about her sisters?” Patrick asked.
“Let me see,” said the agent. “Piper, the oldest one, died in 2048, I believe. Paige, the youngest, died about a year ago. There was another sister who died sometime around the turn of the century I believe. I don’t remember much about her. Anyway, Phillip inherited the house when Paige died. He lives in New York and decided to sell it since he rarely comes to San Francisco any longer.”
“Any other relatives?” Patrick asked.
“Some,” said the agent. “A couple of cousins who were the sons of Piper, the oldest. They live upstate somewhere. I’m not sure about Paige. I don’t know if she had any children or not. But according to Phillip, they all agreed to sell the house after a family meeting. They all insisted their mothers would want it that way. You’d think they had discussed it with their mothers before they made their decision.”
“Perhaps they did,” said Patrick, looking back toward the house.
“Excuse me?” questioned the agent.
“Nothing,” said Patrick. “Don’t call the police. I’ll take care of it. After all, it is my house now.”
“As you wish,” said the agent. “Now there are just a few papers to sign and the house will be yours free and clear.”
* * *
“What do you think?” Piper asked as she, Phoebe, and Paige watched Patrick and the agent from the attic window.
“It’s going to be okay,” said Phoebe. “When we shook hands I had a premonition. Patrick is a witch. He’ll take good care of the house.”
“You didn’t loose your powers when you died?” Paige asked.
“No,” said Phoebe. “Neither did you.”
“I just figured it was because I was half White Lighter,” said Paige.
“We were the Charmed Ones,” said Piper. “Magic that strong is very hard to overcome, even in death.”
“If he’s a witch,” said Cole sitting on the other side of the room, “I’m willing to bet he knew who you really were. That was probably one of the deciding factors in buying it.”
“He’ll take very good care of the manor,” said Phoebe. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll come back to visit him one day.”
“Isn’t that against the rules?” Cole asked, walking up to Phoebe.
“Well, you’re not even supposed to be here,” Phoebe said. “You were supposed to spend the rest of eternity without love, remember?”
“I remember,” said Cole. “I never imagined that trying to make sure you didn’t give up on love would actually earn me a reprieve from my limbo. My only motivation was to make sure that you were happy.”
“A completely selfless act,” said Piper. “With no thought of any reward for yourself. I guess that goes a long way in helping to commute your sentence.”
“It all seems so strange,” said Paige.
“What does?” Piper asked.
“They’re all gone,” said Paige. “Darryl, Leo, Brody, us, even Wyatt and Chris will pass on soon. After all we went through it all seems just like a distant memory now. It seems sort of surreal.”
“I know what you mean,” said Phoebe. “All the spells, the incantations, the vanquishings. They all seem to be somehow not so real any more.”
“They were real enough,” said Piper. “And we did a lot of good when we were alive. A lot of innocents were saved because of what we did. All things considered, I think we really made a difference.”
“Especially considering that we really didn’t want to be witches in the first place,” said a voice behind them.
They all turned to see Prue standing across the room from them.
“Speak for yourself,” said Phoebe. “I thought it was awesome.”
“I thought I’d find you four here,” said Prue. “You know you aren’t supposed to be here.”
“And what are the Elders going to do about it?” Piper asked. “Take away our powers? Besides, we don’t answer to them any more, remember? We’ve moved beyond that.”
“I know,” said Prue. “But it’s not a good idea. Clinging to the past like this.”
“We aren’t clinging,” said Phoebe. “We were saying goodbye. There’s a difference.”
“Okay,” said Prue smiling. “Guess no one can begrudge you that. I am going to miss this place.”
“So will we,” said Piper. “But, like Phoebe said. The new owner is a witch. Phillip may have the Book of Shadows in New York, but we can still visit from time to time. Maybe give this Patrick Morgan a few tips.”
“He’ll be just fine,” said Prue. “Andy’s his White Lighter. He’ll give Mr. Morgan all the help he needs.”
“Well I know I’ll visit occasionally,” said Phoebe. “I was the only one who was actually born here. I have a kind of connection to it you all don’t have.”
“Still rebelling?” Prue asked, smiling. “Come on. Grams, mom, and dad are waiting. And Leo’s with them. We really need to get going now.”
Silently the four sisters and Cole simply faded from the attic, as spirits often do. An era had closed. The era of the Charmed Ones. And the era of their descendents was about to begin.
The End
If you’ve enjoyed this story, you can find more “Charmed” stories at my website, www.geocities.com/killeenmale/. You can also post your own “Charmed” stories if you like to write fan fiction.
CHARMED
“The Last Farewell”
By J. B. Tilton
Email: noazmale@isot.com
Rating: K
Disclaimer: “Charmed” and all related characters and events are the property of the WB television network, except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.
* * *
The Halliwell manor has been sold.
* * *
A man opened the front door to the manor and walked into the entryway. He was about thirty years old with blonde hair and was wearing what appeared to be a very expensive suit. He put the keys to the manor in his front pants pocket and stood in the entryway looking around. Just then, Phoebe came down the stairs.
“Hello,” said Phoebe, walking up to the man. “I didn’t realize anyone was supposed to be here this early.”
“Patrick Morgan,” said the man, extending his hand. “I’m afraid I’m a bit early. I was supposed to meet the real estate agent out front. I got here a little early so I could take a quick look around the old place.”
“Morgan?” Phoebe questioned, shaking the mans’ hand. “Oh, you’re the new owner.”
“Yes,” said Patrick. “When it came on the market I knew I just had to have it. The craftsmanship is incredible. You just don’t find craftsmanship like this any more.”
“I’m Phoebe Halliwell,” said Phoebe. “I was just upstairs, uh, picking up a last few minute things.”
“Halliwell?” questioned Patrick. “Would that make you the owner?”
“One of them,” said Phoebe. “At least at one time. It was built in 1906 just after the Great Quake. My family has lived here ever since.”
“Yes, I have the entire pedigree of the manor,” said Patrick. “It is quite unique.”
“And unfortunately,” said Phoebe, “it needs a lot of work.”
“Oh, I know,” said Patrick. “That’s one of the reasons I bought it. Most other people would probably just tear it down. I plan to restore it to its original condition.”
“Well, that sound promising,” said Phoebe.
“The Historical Society is thinking about adding this manor to its list of historical monuments,” said Patrick. “Once I’m finished with the restoration it will go a long way to getting it on that list. If you don’t mind my asking, why are you selling it?”
“Oh, uh, well,” said Phoebe, “I’m, uh, moving. Quite a distance away as a matter of fact. I really can’t afford to keep it up any more and maintain a residence in my new home. My older sister moved on a few years ago. And my younger sister moved a short time ago. I haven’t lived here for years. I just thought it was about time to let someone else get some use out of it.”
“Oh, I’ll get use out of it,” said Patrick. “I have a lot of pictures taken of it over the years. When I’m done it should be in better condition than it was when it was first built. It will look exactly as it did in the old days. With updated modern conveniences, of course.”
“Of course,” said Phoebe. “Will you be living in the manor?”
“Probably,” said Patrick. “I just love these old houses. They have such character.”
“We had some good times here,” said Phoebe. “And some not so good times. But mostly I remember the good ones.”
“As it should be,” said Patrick, looking at his watch. “Well the real estate agent will be here in a few minutes. I’m sure she’d be glad to say hi to you.”
“Oh, I’ll be gone by then,” said Phoebe. “Like I said, just picking up a few last minute items.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” said Patrick. “Perhaps we’ll see each other again sometime.”
“Probably not,” said Phoebe. “Like I said, I’m moving very far away. But you never know. Maybe one day.”
Phoebe headed back upstairs as Patrick headed out the front door.
* * *
“Ah, Mr. Morgan,” said the woman walking up the front steps. “You’re early.”
“Yes,” said Patrick. “As I was telling the young woman inside, I wanted to have a quick look around the place before I signed the papers. It’s everything you said it was. More, even. It’s just about perfect.”
“Young woman?” questioned the real estate agent. “There’s someone in the house?”
“Yes,” said Patrick. “She said her name was Phoebe Halliwell. She’s one of the former owners.”
“Mr. Morgan,” said the agent, “that’s quite impossible. Phoebe Halliwell hasn’t been around for, oh, about twenty years.”
“Of course she has,” said Morgan. “She’s right inside. She said she was picking up a few personal items.”
“We’d better call the police,” said the agent.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Morgan.
“Mr. Morgan, you don’t understand,” said the agent. “The owner of the house is Phillip Halliwell. Phoebe Halliwell was his grandmother. She died peacefully in her sleep about twenty years ago. I think the date was October 27, 2053. She was 78 years old. It was all quite sudden.”
“What about her sisters?” Patrick asked.
“Let me see,” said the agent. “Piper, the oldest one, died in 2048, I believe. Paige, the youngest, died about a year ago. There was another sister who died sometime around the turn of the century I believe. I don’t remember much about her. Anyway, Phillip inherited the house when Paige died. He lives in New York and decided to sell it since he rarely comes to San Francisco any longer.”
“Any other relatives?” Patrick asked.
“Some,” said the agent. “A couple of cousins who were the sons of Piper, the oldest. They live upstate somewhere. I’m not sure about Paige. I don’t know if she had any children or not. But according to Phillip, they all agreed to sell the house after a family meeting. They all insisted their mothers would want it that way. You’d think they had discussed it with their mothers before they made their decision.”
“Perhaps they did,” said Patrick, looking back toward the house.
“Excuse me?” questioned the agent.
“Nothing,” said Patrick. “Don’t call the police. I’ll take care of it. After all, it is my house now.”
“As you wish,” said the agent. “Now there are just a few papers to sign and the house will be yours free and clear.”
* * *
“What do you think?” Piper asked as she, Phoebe, and Paige watched Patrick and the agent from the attic window.
“It’s going to be okay,” said Phoebe. “When we shook hands I had a premonition. Patrick is a witch. He’ll take good care of the house.”
“You didn’t loose your powers when you died?” Paige asked.
“No,” said Phoebe. “Neither did you.”
“I just figured it was because I was half White Lighter,” said Paige.
“We were the Charmed Ones,” said Piper. “Magic that strong is very hard to overcome, even in death.”
“If he’s a witch,” said Cole sitting on the other side of the room, “I’m willing to bet he knew who you really were. That was probably one of the deciding factors in buying it.”
“He’ll take very good care of the manor,” said Phoebe. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll come back to visit him one day.”
“Isn’t that against the rules?” Cole asked, walking up to Phoebe.
“Well, you’re not even supposed to be here,” Phoebe said. “You were supposed to spend the rest of eternity without love, remember?”
“I remember,” said Cole. “I never imagined that trying to make sure you didn’t give up on love would actually earn me a reprieve from my limbo. My only motivation was to make sure that you were happy.”
“A completely selfless act,” said Piper. “With no thought of any reward for yourself. I guess that goes a long way in helping to commute your sentence.”
“It all seems so strange,” said Paige.
“What does?” Piper asked.
“They’re all gone,” said Paige. “Darryl, Leo, Brody, us, even Wyatt and Chris will pass on soon. After all we went through it all seems just like a distant memory now. It seems sort of surreal.”
“I know what you mean,” said Phoebe. “All the spells, the incantations, the vanquishings. They all seem to be somehow not so real any more.”
“They were real enough,” said Piper. “And we did a lot of good when we were alive. A lot of innocents were saved because of what we did. All things considered, I think we really made a difference.”
“Especially considering that we really didn’t want to be witches in the first place,” said a voice behind them.
They all turned to see Prue standing across the room from them.
“Speak for yourself,” said Phoebe. “I thought it was awesome.”
“I thought I’d find you four here,” said Prue. “You know you aren’t supposed to be here.”
“And what are the Elders going to do about it?” Piper asked. “Take away our powers? Besides, we don’t answer to them any more, remember? We’ve moved beyond that.”
“I know,” said Prue. “But it’s not a good idea. Clinging to the past like this.”
“We aren’t clinging,” said Phoebe. “We were saying goodbye. There’s a difference.”
“Okay,” said Prue smiling. “Guess no one can begrudge you that. I am going to miss this place.”
“So will we,” said Piper. “But, like Phoebe said. The new owner is a witch. Phillip may have the Book of Shadows in New York, but we can still visit from time to time. Maybe give this Patrick Morgan a few tips.”
“He’ll be just fine,” said Prue. “Andy’s his White Lighter. He’ll give Mr. Morgan all the help he needs.”
“Well I know I’ll visit occasionally,” said Phoebe. “I was the only one who was actually born here. I have a kind of connection to it you all don’t have.”
“Still rebelling?” Prue asked, smiling. “Come on. Grams, mom, and dad are waiting. And Leo’s with them. We really need to get going now.”
Silently the four sisters and Cole simply faded from the attic, as spirits often do. An era had closed. The era of the Charmed Ones. And the era of their descendents was about to begin.
The End
If you’ve enjoyed this story, you can find more “Charmed” stories at my website, www.geocities.com/killeenmale/. You can also post your own “Charmed” stories if you like to write fan fiction.
