Note: I wanted to experiment with making Melinda Wyatt's twin rather than the youngest. I did this mostly for the fun of experimenting. But, I also did it because it never seemed right that the first Melinda wasn't born (mine is her), the title "Twice Blessed" lends itself so easily to twins (!), and giving a balance to Wyatt doesn't seem like too off-base a suggestion. I hope you like it!
Note 2: Please forgive me for bouncing the Manor around instead of leaving it with Piper (you'll see what I mean if you read through the end). I needed the next generation to be able to move in, and I like remembering that it's a family house. But, I'm imagining Piper and Leo move back by the time grandkids arrive, for the sake of keeping "Forever Charmed" as canon.
Also: thoughts, including telepathic conversations between Wyatt and Melinda, will be in italics.
And finally: I promise to never precede a story with this many notes again.
Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of the characters who appeared on the show.
Chapter 1: June 2026
"Wyatt! All I asked was if the band was definitely booked for tonight. Simple question. Yes. No. Maybe. I'm not sure. See how none of these exceed three words?"
Melinda Halliwell stepped out of her car and let it slam behind her as she struggled with her cell phone and the groceries she had grabbed from the passenger seat.
The response reverberated through her brain. "DONE!"
She jumped, dropping all the groceries and sending her cell flying towards the hedge as her hand flew to her head. Her raspberries (painstakingly chosen) tumbled unceremoniously down the hill of the Halliwell manor.
"Damn it, Wyatt!" she shouted, "We were on a cell phone!"
The Carter family, getting into their van in the next-door driveway, paused to look curiously at her.
"Sorry," she said, waving weakly as she started to retrieve her food. Her raspberries, now at the bottom of the driveway, were a lost cause. "One day," she thought threateningly.
"Still there, Sis?" Wyatt asked, chuckling inside her head.
"We're not talking."
"Gotta admit, this costs less than the phone bill."
"Personal gain." Groceries retrieved, she made it to the door of the Manor and turned the key.
"Right. Because the Elders are really going to monitor what goes on in our heads," he paused, "Ok, so maybe that's not beyond them. But, we're practicing! Hey, that's it. We're practicing strategic tactics. So, really if you keep freezing me out, you're going to hurt our chances against demons."
She ignored him now as she made it through the hall.
"Mel, come on."
She made it to the kitchen entry.
"The Twice Blessed out of sync? That's worse than the Charmed Ones," he wheedled.
"I'll take our chan—Agghh!"
A knife hurtled towards her chest. This time, shocked, she orbed in and out, throwing her hands up as she did. The groceries again tumbled to the floor.
"Knife." She heard a weak call. The object in question disappeared in a swirl of blue lights and materialized on the kitchen counter.
"Sorry, Sis," Chris looked sheepishly at her from behind his array of potion materials. Wyatt orbed in, poised for an attack.
"What happened?" he demanded. Melinda bent to once again pick up the groceries.
"Brothers," she said.
...
A few hours later, Chris was still in the kitchen, with a new array of potion materials spread in front of him on the counter. Wyatt came in from the conservatory, zeroing in on the fridge. He was reasonably certain that Chris would have made food for the evening. Of the three, the youngest was the only one to have inherited Piper's cooking skills.
"Pasta?" Wyatt asked, checking the shelves as he spoke.
"Yep."
"What are you working on anyways?"
"Just fun stuff. Smoke screens, fire-starters,—"
"But I'm pyrokinetic," Wyatt said matter-of-factly, as he used a spatula to stuff an inhuman amount of lasagna into his mouth.
"And Mel and I aren't," Chris said, emphasizing each word.
"Why would you be anywhere I wasn't?" Wyatt demanded, the goof gone, the older brother definitely present.
"It's not like we'd go looking for them," Chris said, rolling his eyes as he threw in the sage, "But demons don't attack when it's convenient. This would be in case."
"Like we ever fight demons that we don't go looking for," said Wyatt. He stuffed another spatula-sized portion into his mouth.
"It's called a fork, Wy."
"Oo know why? "Hey're'uh cared uh us," Wyatt said, grinning even as his cheeks bulged.
"The forks are scared of us?" Chris deadpanned. Wyatt swallowed.
"Demons, little bro," he said, cheerfully abandoning his perch on the counter to ruffle Chris's hair. The younger whitelighter-witch bent forwards to avoid him.
"Don't do that!" he said.
"Sorry." Wyatt put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. Chris could hold on to being peeved for hours. "It's weird being back here, hmm?" Wyatt asked.
Chris nodded. Potions finished, he went for his share of the pasta, with the use of a plate and fork. "Well, yeah. It's been boarded up for a while."
"It feels like it's glad to have Warrens in it again," Melinda said musingly from the kitchen entry. Her hair was wet and she was in pajamas. But, to her brothers' relief, she appeared to be in a noticeably better mood.
"Mel! Saved you some lasagna!" Wyatt greeted. Chris waved from the counter.
"You had to," she said, taking a fork to dip into the serving dish.
"Mel! Use a plate!" Chris said, "Mom would kill you both, you know."
Mel giggled. "But it's so much better this way," she said.
"It's disgusting," her younger brother said, "Here." He grabbed a plate and shoveled a portion onto it before handing it to her. "At least you know about forks," he said.
"What?"
"Never mind," Wyatt quickly interjected, "Back to the house. So, no one's been here? I mean I knew Mom and Dad have been in the loft, but I thought at least some of the cousins were always switching off."
Melinda took a moment to savor Chris' cooking. "Well, somewhat," she said, after a few bites. "Mom and Dad lived here until we were eighteen. Then they moved to the North Beach loft with Chris."
"I know that part," Wyatt said, trying to hurry her along, "I stopped keeping track of the house—not my own memories."
Melinda grinned at him. "What's a story if you don't tell it from the beginning?" she asked.
"Meanwhile," Chris said, picking up the story up before Wyatt could reply, "Aunt Phoebe had just sold the San Francisco loft. So, she and the family moved in here for about a year until they bought the place in Berkeley."
"When they left," Melinda said, "Aunt Paige and Uncle Henry had just gotten back from Thailand. So they moved in here until Henry left for college."
"He still in Switzerland?" Chris asked.
"Yep. Loving it and backpacking everywhere in his spare time," Melinda said.
Her younger brother nodded. "He know what he wants to do?" he asked.
Mel shrugged. "For now he's an archaeology major and I think that will keep him busy for a while. He'll be travelling even once he's graduated—going from dig to dig. I think he'll come home eventually. He doesn't admit it, but for all his independence, he's got a major dose of family loyalty."
"Don't all Halliwells?" countered Chris.
"Anyways," said Wyatt, "so Henry goes off. Then what?"
"Well, that was over a year ago," said his sister, "Then, Aunt Paige and Uncle Henry bought their place in Orinda; and this place has been locked up ever since."
Wyatt whistled. "I can't believe that this place has gone without Warrens," he said.
"We're back now," Melinda said.
Chris nodded. "And better than ever," he said.
"Wow," said Melinda.
"That's a new level of dorky, Chris," Wyatt said.
"Seriously," said Melinda in agreement.
"I'm the dork? Mel's the one who can't carry groceries."
"Hey! That was totally on you two," Melinda said defensively.
"No way. It's not our fault you can't multi-orb," Wyatt said.
"In the driveway, Wyatt?" Melinda asked.
"In the kitchen, Melinda?" Chris asked.
"Brothers," Melinda said dramatically, addressing the Manor. "I have too many brothers," she said. But, she couldn't help her grin.