A/N: This is mostly, nearly completely, AU. It's set in S5 of SPN and one year after S8 of Charmed. I know the timeline doesn't actually fit together, but it's the way I want it, feel free to not read it if that will annoy you but please, no hate. So in this story Dean is 30, Sam is 26, Piper is 32, Phoebe is 30, Paige is 28 and my OC, Leigh is 23 and I have no clue how old Leo is. Another thing is that I like Paige/Dean, so Henry doesn't exist. Sorry Henry fans, I love him too, but he just can't be in this particular story. It's set during the SPN 5.14 "My Bloody Valentine". I'm not sure where the episode is set, but regardless I'm setting it in San Francisco.

I DO NOT OWN CHARMED OR SUPERNATURAL! No infringement intended. Some dialogue from the episode.

Here we go, fanfiction attempt #1

"What we all want, really, is to be loved. That craving drives our worst behaviour."
―Jodi Picoult

CHAPTER 1

The girl shivered, and wrapped her arms around herself as the cold night air whipped against her pale skin. She looked around the semi-empty streets of San Francisco and wondered to herself why she stayed till dusk. It seemed stupid; then again she'd been doing it for the last five years. It was probably because she always had a curfew at her foster homes.

She had been moved from foster home to foster home for most of her life. The reason she moved around so much, is that no one wanted to keep her. They said she broke things when she was angry or upset. They said she was always throwing things at the others. They said she was 'troubled'.

Well what did they expect? She had been abandoned by her family as a baby and no one had adopted her. It wasn't the stereotypical story of a foster family that didn't care, or only took her in for the paycheque. No, all the families she had stayed with were perfectly fine. They were nice, asked her about her day and tried to spend time with her when they had their own kids to deal with.

Yet, they all said she was violent, but the thing is, she never remembered throwing anything. She remembered things always breaking. Once, a vase fell off the shelf and nearly hit another boy on the head. They all said she threw it, probably because she was mad at him when it happened.

Because of these accusations, she had been through twenty-seven foster homes in eighteen years. As soon as she turned eighteen she left and got an apartment in the city. All these years of not having anywhere near permanent to stay, not having strong parental figures or even friends, had caused walls to build up inside her. it's not that she doesn't trust people; the problem is that she trusts too easily and that usually leads to disappointment and getting hurt.

A noise behind her broke her out of her thoughts. It sounded like footsteps. She spun around quickly, but there was no one there.

Oh great, she thought this is the moment where I get raped and murdered and no one finds my body for weeks until some homeless person or a hooker comes down this alley…

She ignored it, settling it down to her imagination. She turned back and walked a few more steps, but before she got much further flames shot high up from the ground. They died down in an instant and in their place stood a middle aged, balding man wearing what looked like a black cloak.

He held a hand out in front of him and a ball of fire materialised in his palm. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest when he pushed his palm towards her, sending the fireball hurtling in her direction. She ducked quickly and let out a blood curdling scream.

She was so distracted by the second fireball appearing in the man's – thing's – hand, that she didn't notice a second man appear beside her in a shower of light blue orbs. The second fireball was thrust towards her and she moved out of the line of fire once again and held her hands out before her face in protection. As she did, the thing was thrown backwards into a wall as if pushed by an invisible force.

The thing took her brief moment of shock to recover and create yet another fireball. She raised her hands again but this time, the fireball was sent back straight into the chest of the thing in the black cloak. He screamed in agony and burst into flames.

"What the hell was that?" she exclaimed to herself.

"That's a good question." A man's voice said. She spun around with her hands still raised and the blonde haired middle aged man was thrown into a bin.

"Who are you?" she asked frantically.

"I'm Leo, your whitelighter."

"My what?"

"Your whitelighter. Like a guardian angel. I'm not really meant to tell you all that yet but the way your powers are progressing it's probably best that I do. I mean, heck, there's already demons after you."

"Demons? What do you mean demons? What powers?"

"That thing that just tried to kill you was a demon. You're telekinetic, well that's the power you just used. You're a witch."

"What type of crack have you been smoking?"

He shot her a serious look.

"I guess I should've gained your trust first…"

"Good luck with that."

"Look, why don't you come back to my house?"

"Okay, I should've known you were a pervert!"

"No! That's not what I meant. My wife and her sisters are witches and it'll be safer for you there."

She hesitated. "Fine, but if you try anything, I have 911 on speed dial."

Leo rolled his eyes and put a hand on her shoulder before the two were engulfed in blue orbs.