Disclaimer: The concept of Charmed isn't mine. It and its characters belong to Constance M. Burge, Brad Kern, and Spelling Entertainment.
Author's Note: This is an AU version of the pilot, "Something Wicca This Way Comes," which was written by Constance M. Burge. Much of the dialogue was taken from that episode. This version asks the question, "What if the Halliwells had been brothers instead of sisters?"
Prologue – Andrea
Sirens pierced the rainy night as a crowd formed around the entrance to the apartment building. One or two of the curious tried to cross the yellow tape, but several police officers kept them from getting any farther. Shorter bystanders craned their necks, trying to get a good view of the crime scene. Crime rarely affected their part of San Francisco, and no one knew if it was robbery or, even worse, murder.
Inspector Andrea Trudeau scowled, pushing her way through the curious crowd. She hated this part of an investigation. It was one thing to deal with a corpse, but completely another to deal with a plethora of stupid questions, especially when she was in a neighborhood known for it's lack of crime. Clutching her umbrella, she weaved her way to the line. A tall officer held his hand up, palm out, stopping her in her tracks.
"I can't let you through, ma'am," he said.
She pulled her badge from her pocket and flashed it at him. "I believe I'm supposed to be here."
He quickly stepped aside and tipped his cap. "I'm sorry, Inspector, I didn't realize who you were."
"Don't worry about it. Most people don't," she said as she lowered her umbrella and crawled under the line. She waved off his comments without a second thought. At 5'3", most people didn't believe she was a police inspector.
Closing her umbrella, she entered the building and made her way to the open apartment. Officers and a forensic team filled the tiny space, offering very little walking room. Andrea searched the area until she found the man she was looking for.
Inspector Darryl Morris had been her partner for years now, and there was no one else she would trust with her life. He was a tall black man with a commanding presence, and at that moment, he was commanding a couple of green uniforms. The two young officers left as soon as she reached him.
"Problems, Morris?" she asked.
"New recruits not able to handle a dead body," he answered, looking down at her. "Where have you been? I paged you for over an hour."
Andrea shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. Darryl believed in justice and in doing what he could to find it, but she wasn't sure he'd agree with her side trip before coming to the crime scene. She resisted the urge to twirl a strand of brown hair around her finger and met his dark brown eyes. She chose to ignore his question.
"What have we got?" she asked instead.
Darryl grimaced, but led the way through the busy apartment to the body. It was a young blond woman, wearing a black gown. She lay across an alter covered in candles and odd carvings. Blood pooled from her heart. Andrea stepped back and took a deep breath. No matter how many bodies she'd seen, it always managed to get to her. She focused on Darryl.
"A young female, 26, knife wound to the chest," Darryl said. "Body arranged on an alter."
Andrea remembered two crime scenes they had been to earlier in the week. "Like the man and the woman before her?"
Darryl turned back to the body. "Like the other two, there was no sign of a struggle. She obviously knew her attacker."
Andrea was growing tired of this case. Three bodies, each found on an alter with a knife wound to the chest. No apparent motive for the deaths. She gritted her teeth. Whoever this bastard was, she wanted to find him and hurt him as badly as he had these people. Instead of focusing on the murder itself, she studied the alter and the tools surrounding it. It fit with her theory, and the lady at the shop had been informative enough to back it up. Darryl wasn't going to like this.
She crossed her arms. "I think I know why someone is killing these people. I've been doing a little research."
Darryl scowled. "Is that why you were late? When were you planning on sharing this information?"
Andrea turned away and glanced around the apartment. "You won't like it."
She turned to meet his dark eyes. "All three were found on an alter, and each was killed with an athame."
"Ha!" Darryl grinned as he pointed to the body. "She was killed with a double-edged knife."
Andrea nodded her head, her suspicion confirmed. "An athame. It's a double-edged knife used to direct energy."
Darryl raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
"Look. All three of these people have a connection, Morris. I think all of them were witches. The killer is going after witches." Darryl didn't have to voice his question. Andrea saw it in his eyes. "I dropped by a magic shop on my way over here, and that's what the owner called the weapon."
Her partner's face fell. "Witches? Are you listening to yourself? You're starting to sound crazy. There's no such thing as witches, and besides, one of the victims was a man."
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Witches can be both male and female."
"No way." Darryl stalked away from the body. "I won't believe this."
Andrea closed her eyes. She didn't know why her hunch was so strong, but she wasn't about to ignore it. If she was right, and this killer was going after witches, they could predict his next move. They could stop him. All she had to do was convince Darryl to go with her on this. She cut in front of her partner.
"Darryl, do you believe in UFOs?"
Confusion crossed his face. "No."
"But you believe there are people who believe in UFOs."
"And I think they're crazy."
Andrea shrugged. "Then why can't you believe there are people who believe they're witches?"
Darryl threw his hands into the air. "Crazy people. I'm surrounded by crazy people." He took a deep breath and looked at her. "Witches?"
She firmly nodded. "Witches." She looked back at the body. "Regardless of whether they're real or not, someone obviously believes they are. And they're committing some very real murders to prove it."
As she turned to check another part of the apartment, a beautiful woman with dark hair stepped in her path. She pulled out a pen and a notepad, her dark eyes glistening. "Inspector Trudeau? Jenny Burns, The San Francisco Chronicle. You care to comment?"
Andrea narrowed her hazel eyes. "Someone was stabbed, plain and simple."
"Well, that's the third one in three weeks," Jenny chirped.
Andrea pushed passed her and made her way down the hall. "Could someone get this yahoo out of here?" she called, wondering how the reporter got inside. She shook her head. Some people didn't have any respect for the dead.