Charmed Sequel to The Halliwell Death Trap
Sometimes you just feel . . . invisible.
Chapter One - Christmas Shopping
"I bet Mom would like that," Chris Halliwell announced excited as he pointed at something on the store shelves.
Prue Halliwell looked up wearily. Considering the last three suggestions from the eight-year-old, she wasn't anxious to see what caught his attention. And his older brother isn't much better, she thought as she remembered nine-year-old Wyatt's selection.
Thus, it was to her surprise when she looked up and saw half a dozen assorted spices in a set. "What do you think, Aunt Prue?" Chris asked, eagerly.
Prue smiled. "I think it's a good choice, Chris."
Chris grinned and did a little fist pump.
Prue laughed. "Where's your brother, Chris?"
Without hesitation, Chris points across to the other side of the mall hall. Then, he ran over to his brother and grabbed a water gun and pointed it at his brother.
"You don't scare me," Wyatt laughed as he tried to step out of the way of his brother's line of sight. That proved difficult, so he grabbed his own water gun and pointed it at Chris. "I've got you in my sights."
When a hand pushed down both guns, the boys looked up to find Prue standing next to them. "Don't play with guns, boys. We're here to buy gifts for your parents and for Phoebe and Paige, not toys for you."
"Can't we do both?" Chris pleaded, looking at her with his green eyes wide and his lips pouty.
"Please, Aunt Prue," Wyatt added his plea to his brother's.
Prue shook her head, a smile on her lips. "Come on, let's get the seasonings for your mom and get started on something for Paige."
"Paints!" the boys exclaimed in unison.
Prue looked at them surprised. "I don't think I've ever seen her paint though."
"According to Miss Julie," Chris announced, referring to Paige's adopted aunt, "she used to paint all the time."
"Dave says she needs to start, again," Wyatt, added, referring to Julie's husband.
After her adopted parents' deaths Dave and Julie had taken the teenage Paige in and raised her. She'd finally told them about magic a few weeks earlier at Thanksgiving. To say they were stunned was putting it mildly, but over the last couple of weeks they had shown signs of coming around. They'd already known the boys, having kept in contact with them over the years they had thought Paige had been dead along with Piper, Phoebe, and Leo. They said they needed some sort of connection to the niece they had lost. Now, they were easier with the two boys than any other members of the Halliwell family, except, of course, Paige.
Prue smiled. "Paints it is then. And what about for Phoebe? Any suggestions?"
"A quill pen," Chris suggested after some consideration.
Prue looked at him surprised and waited for the explanation. This was going to be interesting. "Why's that?"
"Well, she's a writer, isn't she," he reminded her. "Grandpa was telling Wyatt and me about the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Wy wanted to know if they used quill pens, and I wanted to know what that was. And once they explained, it sounded like something Aunt Phoebe might like."
"Let's see what we can find," Prue suggested. "I don't think we'll find any quill pens, but there is an art supply store that we can check out for some paints. Want to look in there? Maybe we can find ingredients to make our own quill pens there."
Both boys nodded quickly.
They spent the next two hours working their way through the crowded mall looking for gifts. They reached Prue's newly purchased car with arms laden down by gifts. Her old car had long since been sold off as had Piper and Phoebe's. Paige's had been given to her aunt and uncle, and returned to her when she had returned alive.
Prue popped the trunk and loaded them in. She was about to close it when a voice stopped her.
Prue looked at Chris. "Ready to go?"
"I need to use the bathroom," he informed her.
Prue looked down the long row of cars back toward the mall. "Can it wait until we get back?"
Chris shook his head and gave her a pleading look. "I need to go now, Aunt Prue."
"Why didn't you tell me while we were still in the mall?" she asked frustrated.
"I didn't need to go then," he informed her, as if that explained everything.
Prue sighed and shut the trunk. "All right, boys. Let's head back."
As the three of them headed back toward the mall a man wearing jeans and a t-shirt moved away from the car he was leaning against. Wind blew at his hair and the sun glinted off his sunglasses. He seemed unaware that is was December in San Francisco, so intent was he on following them.
For those of you who have read my crossover with Supernatural, "The Halliwell Death Trap", this story takes place about two or three months later. The other sequel, "Best Served Cold" follows the Winchesters after that story. I hope you enjoy them both.