Title: The Power of Popularity
| Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three |
Author: Majandra
Email: flavorlesschocolate@hotmail.com
Rating: to be announced
Pairing: to be announced
Disclaimer: If I haven't owned them for any of my other stories, what makes you think anything's changed?
Author's note: I have a vague idea where this is going. It's my first crossover. Be kind.
It was finally over. Sam held onto Brooke for dear life as they watched the people file slowly from the graveyard.
After five years together, three of them blissfully married, a car accident had stolen the life Jane McPherson and Mike McQueen should have had together. They should have lived to see their golden wedding anniversary, should have lived to see their oldest daughters hook up, should have lived to have more children. Children like the small dark haired girl that clung to Sam's leg and wept bitterly.
Putting her own grief aside for the moment, Sam lifted the girl into her arms. "Mac? It's going to be okay, baby. You still have Brooke and me, and we'll look after you. You don't have to worry about a thing."
"I want my momma," Mac wept, burying her face in Sam's shoulder. "When's my momma coming back?"
How do you answer a question like that? Sam and Brooke were only twenty-one. They'd been sixteen when Mac was born, and neither of them was emotionally equipped to deal with bringing up a five year old. However, that was the reality they were faced with.
~
The next day the three of them sat around the breakfast table. Brooke was pointedly staring at her cornflakes, knowing if she said anything she would burst into fresh tears. Sam soberly poured herself a cup of coffee, and spread some strawberry jam on a slice of toast for Mac. Mac looked at it for a couple of beats before starting to eat.
"Mac baby, could you pass me the newspaper?"
Wordlessly, the child reached for and passed the newspaper in question to her older sister. As soon as the paper touched her hand, Sam's whole body went rigid and her vision was filled with sights that were not of the breakfast table.
Flashes. Scene after scene, each more confusing than the last – a street sign, three dark haired woman, Mac running happily through a house that wasn't their own. Another street sign… or was it the same one? It said "Prescott St." Another shot of Mac, this time in the arms of one of the same dark women she'd seen before. And then it was over, and she saw Brooke staring at her worriedly, and Mac crying into her milk.
"Sam? Are you okay?" Brooke said, almost frantically. She was waving her hand in front of Sam's face, and Sam blinked a couple of times before replying.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Jeez, that was weird."
"What happened, Sammy? You went all stiff and you didn't answer when we called you," Mac sniffled.
"It was incredibly weird. One minute I was here, and next I was seeing all these random things." She looked down at the newspaper she still held. Her thumb was on a picture of a house for sale, on Prescott Street, in San Francisco.
"I guess we're going to San Francisco," she said simply.
Brooke looked bewildered. "What? Why?"
"I'll explain on the way."
Phoebe Halliwell opened the front door and jogged inside the house, not wanting to break stride after her morning run. She went into the kitchen where she found her sister Piper making bacon and eggs, a fresh pot of coffee already brewed.
"Mmm, Piper, will you marry me?" Phoebe joked as she helped herself to coffee. "I could SO use someone like you around the house."
"It's too bad I already live here… and am already married," Piper shot back dryly. "You couldn't have showered before befouling my kitchen with your sweat and your smell?"
Their youngest sister chose that moment to come bounding down the stairs. Paige wasn't everybody's definition of a morning person, but when she was up, she was up with a vengeance.
"Hi-hi!" she greeted cheerfully. "Ooh, bacon! Yum, I love bacon."
Piper thought of Paige's habit of sucking on lollipops, and mentally decided that Paige was sugary enough without them.
Breakfast was definitely the best meal of the day in the Halliwell manor. Although somewhat rushed, as both Paige and Piper had jobs to get to, some of the best banter between the sisters was over the breakfast table. This morning was no exception… until Phoebe reached for the newspaper and had one of her premonitions.
"What did you see, sweetie?" Piper asked. She reached for another slice of bacon, and slapped Paige's hand away from the last egg. "That's for Phoebe!"
"I saw… I saw two girls, a blonde and a brunette, about five, six years younger than Paige. They fought, and then the brunette showed up here, with a child in tow."
"So do you think these are our innocents of the week? You didn't get a time frame of when they're supposed to arrive, did you?" Paige asked, her mouth full of bacon.
"'Fraid not," Phoebe replied.
~
Paige left for work not long after that. She still felt a little weird after Phoebe had one of her visions. She couldn't help it. She hadn't had as long as Piper had to get used to the witch thing. Of course, it had been five years. She supposed she should be used to it by now, but every now and then she had a "what if" moment. What if she'd never been called to become one of the Charmed ones? What if she'd led a normal life? But she knew in her heart that she'd never wish it any other way.
Piper hurried to the club as soon as she'd cleaned up after breakfast. It had grown from its humble beginnings and was now one of the best-known clubs in California, let alone San Francisco. She was proud of the work she'd done on it. Her only regret was the people she loved who had died before having a chance to see how things had turned out, like her mother, who had died when the girls were only small, or her grandmother, who had raised the girls. And then there was Prue.
Piper felt the all too familiar twinge of grief that was still with her, six years after Prue's death. It certainly wasn't true that it NEVER got any easier. At least these days she didn't burst into tears at the mere mention of Prue's name. However, she would never forget Prue, and she would never stop feeling sorrow for her untimely passing.
Phoebe pottered round the manor for a while before settling in the living room on the couch to watch her favorite movie "Kill It Before It Dies." Phoebe was now a kindergarten teacher, and was on her summer holidays. It left her with not much to do, and she sometimes felt a little guilty that her sisters were still out earning a living while she schlepped around the house. But there was nothing she could do about it. That was the nature of her job: long hours, crappy pay, but great holidays.
Brooke had been less than supportive while Sam packed clothes for herself and Mac.
"Look, I just don't understand why we have to drop everything and run to San Francisco because you had some sort of freaky day dream, okay?" Brooke snapped. "It's not like everything's fine here, we are actually going to need some time to adjust to bringing up Mac without Jane and Dad. It's not a good time to go traipsing halfway across the state."
"I can't explain it, Brooke. I just know in my heart that the best thing for Mac is to take her to these people, whoever they may be. You didn't see what I saw. You didn't see how happy she was. I have to believe that this is the right thing to do."
"I'm not going," Brooke informed her.
"Fine," Sam said, a little distractedly. She had decided to leave that very morning, and was trying to figure out whether to dress Mac in a cute dress to meet these people, or in more functional traveling clothes. Functional won out, and she picked out a pair of overalls and a baby blue t-shirt, with "Hermione" sneakers. Mac loved Harry Potter, even though she was a little too young to remember the true craze period.
"Did you even hear what I said? I'm not going with you." Brooke was starting to get even testier, and Sam suddenly wondered what she'd seen in her. It seemed the year of bliss they'd had together meant nothing to Brooke.
"Well, I am. And I'm taking Mac with me," Sam stated simply. She wasn't going to fight with Brooke. There wasn't time. Some sixth sense told her that speed was her friend.
"Fine," Brooke spat. "But once you walk out that door, you're no longer welcome here. Mac is, but you are most definitely not. So take a moment to think about what you're leaving."
"What am I leaving Brooke? No, I'll tell you, shall I? I'm leaving a selfish spoiled little harpy who won't do what is best for her five year old sister's happiness after the death of both her parents!"
Brooke tried to say something but Sam cut her off. "No, you're going to listen to me. Mac and I share something that you can't, Brooke. We're both orphans now. My father died years ago, and her father died a week ago, along with OUR mother. We have nothing but each other if you leave us. And that's what you're doing. At least you still have a mother, such as she is."
"Who's the one doing the leaving, Sammy?" Brooke said bitterly. "Seems to me, you and Mac are the ones walking out on me."
"It doesn't have to be that way," Sam informed her as she shouldered the bag full of clothing. "You can still come with us."
Brooke turned her back and folded her arms. She heard Sam call to Mac and take her hand, and she heard the front door close behind them. Only then did she call out, but they were gone. She sank to her knees and began to cry.
~
Sam was exhausted. Mac was asleep. The bus ride had taken a lot out of both of them. Most of Sam's time was taken up with entertaining Mac, which to be honest wasn't really that difficult. She was easily entertained, owing to her sweet disposition.
Mac had really come off the best of the three girls when it came to the gene pool thing. She had Sam's hair, long, thick and dark, but had inherited the same gene as Brooke – her hair was as straight as a ruler. And she also had Brooke's hazel eyes, big and expressive. She was sweeter than either of them, though. Quiet and eager to please, she was an obedient child, and when Sam had suggested she take a nap, she had complied almost immediately. Now she was asleep with her head in Sam's lap.
Sam stroked her hair absently as she pondered the next phase in their journey. The first thing she had to do upon arriving in Sam Francisco was to find an information booth and ask for directions to Prescott Street.
She carried both Mac and the bag and struggled to the information center. Prescott Street was across town, she discovered, but was a mere bus ride away. She got on that bus. Only then did she begin to worry about the repercussions of this trip – what if these women turned her away? Where would she go? She couldn't go home, Brooke had made that abundantly clear.
They were the last ones on the bus as it reached their stop. The driver stopped the bus and got out of his seat to help Sam. He was a kindly man, and had watched her struggle on to the bus with a big bag and a small child asleep in her arms. He offered to take the bag for her to wherever she was going so she could tend to Mac, but Sam shook her head no.
"Thanks heaps, but I'm going to wake her up. She needs to be awake to meet these people. So I can handle the bag. Thank you anyhow."
He waved as he drove off, and Sam crouched to fix Mac's clothes. After straightening her overalls, she took a comb out of her pocket and ran it through the child's hair. Mac stood there this whole time whimpering quietly. She was a good child, yes, but she had still been woken. Sam took her hand and led her down the street to the house she'd seen in her vision.
"This must be the place, Mackie," she soothed. "What do you think?"
"It's pretty. Is my momma here?" she asked, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Sam whipped a hanky out of her pocket and fixed her up.
"Nope. But I'm hoping it's someone just as good."
~
After a grueling day at the office, Paige was more than welcoming the prospect of curling up on the couch and vegging. She was looking forward to takeout pizza and trashy movies until she was too tired to keep awake any longer.
She staggered inside the house and called out "Anybody home?"
Phoebe came in, took one look at her and led her to the couch. "Hey babe. You look wrecked."
"I feel it," Paige agreed. "I just wanna sit."
"I'll go get some takeout. Piper called, she won't be home till early tomorrow morning, something about inventory. So there's just the two of us."
Phoebe had just left and Paige was sinking into her favorite fantasy, a fantasy that involved her and a mystery woman. She had no idea who this woman was, or why she felt the way she did about her. Normally she was as straight as an arrow. There was just something about this woman that made her feel all shivery inside.
She was just at the best point in the fantasy when she heard the doorbell. "Damnit," she cursed under her breath. "Coming!"
She looked through the colored glass to see two figures, a woman and a child. She opened the door… and there stood her mystery woman.
"You…" Paige couldn't help saying. "You're…"
"I'm Sam, and this is my sister," Sam said sheepishly. "She's a little tired and cranky, can we come in?"
"Uh, sure," Paige agreed. "She can sleep in my room, if you want."
"That'd be great." But privately Sam was wondering if Mac would even go with this woman she'd never met.
Paige crouched down beside Mac. "Hi cutie. I'm Paige. What's your name?"
"I'm Mac. You're pretty. I like you," Mac said, and she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Paige's neck. Paige hugged back, a little bewildered.
"Is she usually this friendly?" she asked.
"Not really," Sam marveled.
Paige disentangled herself and stood up. Mac whimpered, and held her arms up to be picked up, which Paige did. The girl immediately snuggled her face into the startled woman's shoulder and went to sleep.
"Shall we go into the living room?" Paige asked quietly. Sam nodded, and the two of them walked quietly into the living room and sat down on the couch. Mac murmured contentedly in Paige's lap as the two women prepared to talk.
"So, Sam, is it? What brings you here, to us?"
"You probably won't believe this, but…" Sam began, twisting her hands together nervously. She told Paige the whole story. Paige, for her part, held the small girl in her lap with an expression that was close to rapture.
At one stage during the narrative, she looked up into Sam's eyes, and was immediately lost. It suddenly didn't matter what Sam was saying, just that she was saying it. Paige found herself falling back into her fantasy.
After Sam and Mac had been in the manor for about half an hour, Phoebe breezed back in. Loudly.
"Sorry about that, the lines were horrendous, and we're lucky the pizza is still hot," she called. Paige hurriedly shushed her, but the damage was done. Mac had woken up and was crying. Phoebe looked aghast. "God, I'm sorry," she said to Sam. "Hey, you're the girl in my vision! Who are you, anyhow?"
"Well, you fill her in while I take care of the cutie," Paige suggested, reveling in her new role as acting momma. She carried Mac into the kitchen.
"You want some ice cream, baby?" she asked, smoothing back the child's hair.
Mac sniffled. "Okay," she whimpered.
Paige fixed her a small amount of ice cream in a fancy bowl and sat to watch her eat it. Once finished, Mac yawned widely and reached for Paige who picked her up and carried her back to the living room, where Sam had just finished explaining everything to Phoebe.
"So where's the munchkin going to sleep?" Paige asked. Mac looked at Phoebe.
"Can I sit on your lap?" she asked. Phoebe grinned.
"Of course, baby. My name's Phoebe."
Mac did the same to Phoebe as she had done to Paige, snuggling down into her arms. Phoebe, being the oldest there, took charge.
"Okay. We'll put the munchkin in my bed, I'll go stay with Piper, and unless the two of you have any objections, you can stay in Paige's room, Sam."
While Sam didn't have a problem with the sleeping arrangements, and Paige was delighted by said sleeping arrangements, Mac was not. She clung to Phoebe, whimpering, begging to be allowed to stay with her. Phoebe relented. At least it was one less thing to have to explain to Piper, who would have been just the slightest bit bewildered to find Phoebe in her bed.
Phoebe took Mac up to her room after Sam had got her changed into little green "frog" motif pajamas with feet. That left Sam and Paige alone.
"My room is this way," Paige said shyly.
Sam followed hr in the stairs wordlessly. Once in Paige's room, which had once been Prue's, they looked at each other.
"I'll leave while you change," Paige offered, but Sam shook her head.
"Doesn't matter. I sleep in bra and panties. If that's okay…"
"No problem." Paige acknowledged as she swiftly changed into her favorite red satin shorty nightdress. Sam tried not to ogle her, but it was hopeless. "Can I help you with something there, Sam?" Paige teased.
"Sorry," Sam blushed, turning away. "It's just… you're beautiful."
Now it was Paige's turn to blush as they climbed under the covers. "Thanks. Night."
"Night… and thank YOU, for everything."
"Not a problem."
~
Paige was not necessarily a light sleeper, but Sam, who was crying in her sleep, obviously in the throes of a nightmare, waked her easily. Paige did her best to soothe the troubled girl. Reaching out, she stroked Sam's hair, willing her to wake up. Suddenly, with a muffled sob Sam jerked upright. Paige was right there.
"Ssh, ssh, it's okay. You're safe," Paige murmured, pulling the younger woman into her arms. Sam collapsed against Paige's chest, bawling. Paige lay them both back down, and Sam curled in a tiny ball, crying against Paige's chest.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Paige asked her softly. Sam shook her head. She wasn't really ready to share the true extent of the way she had left things with Brooke, and that had been what was plaguing her slumber. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Paige, all the while berating herself. She didn't even really know this woman! But there again, in a way she did, because she'd never felt this safe in her life. Never.
TBC...