Okay, it's been seven years since I've posted fanfiction, and this is my first Charmed fanfiction. I am pretty much on my knees begging you to push that little button and tell me what you did or did not like about my story. If you hated it I'll be crushed but please tell me why. If you loved it we are officially new best friends but again please tell me why. This is set in the changed future, and what I would like to see happen. I, of course, don't own anything related to Charmed or things would have ended differently (like there would have been at least one photo of Prue in the finale) but I digress. I hope you enjoy this first chapter, and I really hope you review.
Lost in thought, Rebecca Sawyer didn't hear her name being called until the third time was nearly a shout. Stopping, she took a moment to squash the urge to run. She was no longer a child. She would no longer live in fear. Relaxing the body that had instinctively tensed she turned around and saw, in her mind, the main reason she was no longer afraid.
"Henry!"
The uncertainty was quickly replaced with delight as the young woman launched herself at her former probation officer. Here was one of the first few people she had ever allowed herself to trust. Henry Mitchell had earned that trust. When they first met Becca had been a surly, arrogant fourteen year old who after more than a decade in foster care had heard all the lies adults fed children they didn't really care about. Henry didn't lie. He didn't try to deceive her. For once, she was more than a case file. He also refused to put up with her legendary attitude and temper. She didn't have any family and wouldn't allow herself any close friendships, but Henry was the exception to that particular rule. He was her mentor. He was her friend.
"Hey, Becca. I've been calling you're name for half a block. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were ignoring me. What's wrong, Becca?"
The question was said with quiet concern and Becca casually shrugged her shoulders as if it didn't matter. Was she that easy to read, or did he know just where to look?
"It's no big deal. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be saving the youth of San Francisco?" The jab said with a smile.
"Even superheroes like me get weekends off," he joked, watching her face slowly close up of emotion, "Come on, I'll buy you coffee and you can tell me what's going on."
So, the casual shrug hadn't worked. Not that she expected to fool Henry.
As they walked Henry caught her up with the going-ons of his life. Normally, he never told kids on probation about his home life in great detail, but Becca had become his exception of the particular rule. He knew she'd she would need time to work up to what was bothering her. When she hadn't reacted to him hailing her he knew she wasn't distracted- he had seen her face and seen the sadness.
"My son graduates this year, and the twins are going to be seniors this fall. Which is weird, because yesterday all three of them were in diapers," Henry explained, and got a laugh out of the young brunette.
"Last time I saw you Henry Jr. was trying to get a football scholarship. Did anything happen there?"
"He got a partial scholarship to UCLA. I was hoping he'd get a full ride, so I could spend his college money on turning the basement into my new man cave, but I guess I'm proud of him."
Man cave, huh? Just one more sacrifice for your kids," she said with a laugh.
As they reached the coffee shop they paused their game of catch-up to order their drinks. Once they had their caffeine they found an outside table to resume their talk.
Sitting across from Henry, Becca was hit with just how much she owed this man. He had been assigned to her after she was released from juvenile hall. She had been caught driving, well speeding, in a stolen car. The police knew she was one of the city's best and youngest car thieves and gave her a deal- all she had to do was name names and they would lessen her sentence. She didn't and had served her full-term. Once out she expected to resume her career and work on rebuilding her reputation. Henry, quiet and reasonable, made her quickly realize that she had better choices. That she was better. Not that she allowed him to know that she would listen to reason. In the first couple weeks their battles, with her screaming for some phantom injustice and Henry calmly waiting for her to end her tantrum, were constant. It would be months before young Becca realized that Henry won more arguments than he lost.
Slowly, an unfamiliar ache settled on her chest. She wanted this. She wanted to be able to drink coffee with a friend, and put her guard down just a little. Not completely, but just enough to enjoy herself. Her former warden, as she dubbed Henry a week after they met, always had that effect on her. She knew he couldn't save her from the real evil in the world, but she knew he would always be there if she asked. That mattered. As she sipped her iced mocha she reminded herself that she couldn't put her guard down. She couldn't trust strangers or let people in all the way. Not even the man across from her knew all her secrets.
Suddenly, she caught the look. The look that told her it was time to spill her guts. Not quite ready, she turned the conversation back to Henry's children.
"And what are the twins up to? Does Hailey still want to be a rock star?"
Knowing the diversionary tactic Henry played along.
"No, she just wants to date one. Tattoos and piercings are a plus. Paige is trying to convince me it's just a phase. Hope's still on the yearbook committee and apparently becoming the senior editor next year is in the bag." Becca was touched by the pride on his face, and fought harder to suppress the ache.
Henry waited a beat for the young woman to pick up the conversation.
"Come on, Becca. Bite the bullet."
"But, we haven't talked about what's going on with Paige. How is she?" Becca asked, wanting to delay the inevitable.
"She still loves me, even though we both know she can do better. Spill."
"Fine," she let out an exasperated breath. Secretly, she was surprised she had been able to stall for so long.
"You know I came back to work with the Giambelli's after I graduated culinary school."
Of course, he knew. He was the one who had used his connections to get the then sixteen year old girl the job.
"Last night they told me they're going to retire at the end of the month. They're closing the shop and in two and a half weeks I'm going to be unemployed. Cakes by Giambelli's was my first job. It's been my only job, and for the first time in a really long time I don't know what I'm going to do."
It all came out quickly, and she had to admit she did feel better. Just as she had to admit she wouldn't have broken down like this with anyone else.
Henry thought about Mario and Pilar Giambelli. He remembered they're initial reluctance to hire some kid with a reputation for getting into trouble. It had taken hours of phone calls to get Becca the informal interview, and it had only taken one piece of her special red velvet cake to have the elderly couple change their minds completely. They were honest, hard-working people who now in their seventies had always taken an active role in their business. Their retirement, although a long time coming, still came as a bit of a shock.
"I didn't know they wanted to retire. Did they-"
"They don't want to retire!" she exclaimed with a shout. "This fancy developer bought up the businesses around the shop and since business hasn't exactly been booming, Mario and Pilar decided to accept this slick-talking swindler's offer. Next year there will over-priced condos where Cakes by Giambelli used to be. The entire block is being torn down. That means saying good-bye to the Wilson's hardware store, Betty's little arts and craft store, and not to mention that sandwich shop you and I always eat at when you visit."
"Sal's Sub Shop? I love that place! Those sandwiches are half the reason I come visit you at all," Henry exclaimed, with the knowledge they both knew that wasn't true.
"The other half being a slice of my world famous white chocolate cake with raspberry filling. Your hidden agenda isn't so hidden," Becca revealed.
"Have you found out if anyone's hiring?" her warden asked, gently. He could see that their joking was helping her relax, but that she was still distressed about losing her job.
"They just told me last night. Since we're always closed on Sundays it's my day off, and I know I should be putting a plan together, but instead I've just been walking around in a fog. They've lived in San Francisco for fifty years. What are they gonna do in Nashville?"
Henry needed a moment for his brain to make the jump. The Giambellli's. They were talking about the old couple again. What about Nashville?
"Their grandson, Tony, lives in Nashville. I guess they think if they move out there they can convince Tony to settle down with some nice Italian girl."
"In Nashville?" The doubt was evident in his voice, and he only got a shrug as response.
"Henry, what am I gonna do?" It goaded her to have to ask, but there was no one else she could go to. It was so like her old friend to just be there when she needed to lean. Not that she saw it as leaning- she couldn't afford the fallout of ever letting someone all the way in.
"Back to the topic at hand- if you need me to make some calls, or if you need a loan…" Henry quickly trailed off. He knew that look. The look that could freeze a man at twenty paces.
Before she could voice her anger, Henry reconsidered. "I could make a few calls. See if anyone needs someone with your skills."
"My only skills are stealing cars and baking cakes. I won't go back to my old life, and it's not like pastry chefs are in high demand. I'm just not good at anything else. You know I'm right," she added, before he could disagree. "I know how to bake. I've never worked retail or sold life insurance over the phone. Pilar was the people person, so I never even had a chance to work the register. I would probably suck at customer service anyway."
"You've always been good with people," Henry stated, then quickly amended, "you're good with people when you don't lose your temper."
"I've always been good at baking. I could bake a cake that would make you disown your mother, but I don't see myself paying rent with cake."
"You know, my sister-in-law owns a restaurant. I could ask her if she needs any help," he frowned when she shook her head at the suggestion.
"No way. You're not going to involve your family in my problems. It's not right. I've always known you to keep your work and home separate. I don't want to drag them into this. I'll have to figure something out. Thanks, but no thanks."
His frown did not turn upside down. If anything it deepened.
"You're kidding, right? I told you about my son's scholarship and my daughter's musical ambitions. Not to mention you send a Christmas card every year." His confusion was written all over his face.
"I mail that card to your office, but that's not the point-"
"Becca, if you think I'm ashamed of you-"
"Come on, I know you're proud of me," she retorted, "You got me off the streets and kept me off the streets. It's one thing to use your professional contacts to help me find employment when I was a teenager, but it's another thing entirely to ask your family to pitch in with the adult orphan. I'm drawing a line in the sand, Henry."
Henry opened his mouth with an argument on his tongue and then just as quickly closed his mouth and bit his tongue. He knew from experience that he could win an argument with his young charge, but he'd too mentally exhausted to enjoy the victory. He decided the middle ground had less bumps in the road.
"How about I ask Piper, my sister-in-law, if she knows any restaurants who might be willing to interview you? Then I'll be turning a personal contact into a professional one."
The prideful young woman had fought so hard to prove to herself that she was a self-sufficient adult, and wanted to point out that Henry had drawn a shaky line at best, but then she remembered that rent was due at the beginning of the month- just nine days away. She'd be fine this month, and even next month as long as she didn't buy anything frivolous- like groceries. After that, and she was in trouble. She realized that even a self-sufficient adult could ask Henry for help. But could a prideful one?
She took a deep breath and chided herself for not saying what she really meant. She'd always been honest with her warden. After he'd won her trust, of course.
"It's just… it's hard enough for me to ask you for help. I feel uncomfortable asking your family, but if it's not too much trouble could you please ask your sister-in-law if she knows any restaurants that could use a pastry chef? The Giambelli's already told me they'd be able to give me glowing recommendations." She couldn't help it if her smile was a bit forced.
Her warden wasn't fooled. He should have recognized what the problem was. He understood how hard the surly teenager raged against the responsible adult before him. He realized that a few years ago she couldn't have made that request, and Henry couldn't help but be impressed. Watching her tear the napkin into bits, a sure sign she was still uncomfortable, he agreed and changed the subject.
For the next hour they kept the conversation light and friendly. They spoke of Henry's work and Becca's newest culinary creation. He was as busy as ever and she had put her own creative spin to the English Spice cake.
With the coffee long gone and the conversation finally dwindling they got up to say goodbye. As she said hugged the first person to gain her trust she saw her world start to crumble. She released her old friend quickly.
"It was good seeing you, but I gotta bounce," she said hastily, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"I'll call you after I talk to Piper. Try not to worry," he said to be comforting, unbeknownst to him she barely heard him.
Becca grabbed her purse and walked away. She wanted to run. That voice in her head that always reminded her to be afraid seemed to be screaming. She ducked into an alley and braced herself. Becca knew Hell was coming for her.
Henry headed in the opposite direction. Becca was still on his mind, but so were his other charges, his children and thoughts on what his wife might cook for dinner.
It was habit more than anything that had him turning around for once last glance. He didn't need to remind himself that Becca was indeed twenty-five years old. He would continue to look out for her like he always had. He was puzzled to see her walk into the alley. She knew the area better than he did, so there wasn't the chance of her taking a shortcut. Puzzlement turned to fear when to saw the two large angry-looking men follow her. As he moved to help her his mind ran as to who these strangers could be. They didn't wear gang colors, but they were could easily be drug dealers or local thugs who like to terrorize women. They were definitely built for it.
In all the years he'd been married to Paige and knew her life and true calling as he ran into the alley he never considered the truth.
He never considered demons.
