Oh My Goddess

Lauren checked her books once more, swung her bag over her shoulder, and hurried out of the room. Her foster mother's insistence on school was annoying, but she was immovable on the subject and Lauren had given up arguing long ago.

She was running late, as always. Helping Paige last night had run later than she'd meant to, and one of her books had gone missing. She still wasn't sure what it was doing in Wyatt's room; maybe he was messing with her, she thought ruefully.

She rounded a corner and walked smack into Chris. Apologising absently, she resettled her bag, stepped around him and headed downstairs.

"Hang on!" He was following her. "Who are you?"

"Who are you?" she asked, mostly just to irritate him. She wasn't sure what to think about the sisters' new Whitelighter, but she knew at least part of her problem was that she missed Leo. Two days wasn't enough to make any kind of judgement about Chris, and she hadn't even seen him face to face yet.

Chris trailed her into the kitchen, still trying to demand that she talk to him. Phoebe glanced up from her paper, amused, but she didn't try to explain.

Lauren picked up the lunch Piper had left her, turning to face Chris for the first time, and wow. How had the sisters missed that? "I live here."

"You live here? No. No, the sisters and Wyatt live here."

"And me," she agreed lightly. "And you." He froze, and she added, "I mean, I guess you will. Leo did."

"Hey, whoa, now," Phoebe protested. "That was special circumstances."

"It's fine," Chris said over his shoulder. "I wasn't expecting to." He turned back to Lauren. "Who are you?"

She glanced at Phoebe, who shrugged. "Up to you, sweetie, but we generally trust our whitelighters."

"We trust the whitelighters, yeah," Lauren murmured, just loudly enough for Chris to hear; he flinched again, and she smiled politely. "I'm late for school, Chris, but I'll talk to you when I get home this afternoon. Phoebe, can you please ask the others not to talk about me until then?" Phoebe raised her cup in salute and Lauren nodded. "Thank you. Later."

Chris watched her during the day; she left campus for lunch and he lurked nearby, and she could sense him trying to sense her during the afternoon. Wiccan magic was never very accurate when it came to her, though, and his efforts came to nothing.

He pounced the second she came home, on her heels as she dropped her bag and coat in the hall and wandered into the sitting room. "What are you?"

"Where are the others?" she asked curiously, glancing around. Paige should have been home, and Piper usually tried to be there when school let out.

"They aren't here. What have you done to them?" Chris was tense, leaning against the doorframe to disguise it.

"I haven't done anything, Chris, I live here."

"No, see, I'm from the future. I know this house and this family in the future. You don't live here."

"In your timeline," she agreed.

"My timeline is this timeline!"

Lauren shrugged. "I'm in hiding. If I'm gone by the time you know them, they probably don't talk about me. When are you going to be born, Chris?"

He stumbled over whatever he'd been about to say. "What?"

"Magic is magic to wiccans. Even to the Charmed Ones. They don't see the difference. But I can tell. You're a witchlighter, and more than that, you're a Halliwell."

"...no, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," she said patiently. "I don't know who you are, but Halliwell magic is very obvious. You're definitely a Halliwell."

He stared at her for a long moment. "Who are you?"

Lauren sketched the Shiba symbol in midair, setting it alight with a thought. Chris blinked, pushing away from the wall. "Shiba."

"Yes."

He frowned, obviously concentrating. "One of the Shiba heads - the battle in two thous..." He cut himself off sharply. "The eighteenth head was raised in hiding." He glanced up at Lauren and she bowed briefly, letting the symbol vanish. "You're Lauren Shiba."

"Nice to meet you, Chris Halliwell."

He flinched, glancing over his shoulder. "Look, can you please just keep that to yourself?"

"Why? They should know who you are."

"No, it'll just - it'll make everything more difficult. Please. We talked it all over before I came back here, and this is the way that'll work best, we decided it." Before she could argue he added hastily, "Why are you hiding here?"

"Wiccan magic hides my power. No one can see me."

"But you go to school."

"Yes," she agreed, "because then I don't have to hide every time a neighbour comes to the door and the sisters don't get done by Child Services."

Chris shook his head. "The sisters can't be teaching you how to use your - what's it called?"

"Symbol power. They aren't. I have a tutor assigned by my family, he lives nearby. History, math, and symbol power, four times a week."

He nodded slowly. "Right. And fight training?"

"Self defence classes, Phoebe, and another tutor." She pulled her sword out of midair, smiling at the look on his face. "We've got it handled."

Chris took a deep breath. "I'll be born in a year and a half or so. So on my timeline, you must have left, one way or the other, within about three or four years, or I'd remember you."

Lauren nodded. "Thank you." Letting her sword vanish again, she went to step past him.

"Lauren."

"I won't tell them." He relaxed a little, and she added, "Unless I think I have to."

She scooped up her bag and coat and headed upstairs, leaving him standing in the hall.

Valhalley of the Dolls

Chris glanced up as the office door opened, casually shuffling a few sheets of paper off the desk. "Lauren. What are you doing here?" She didn't often visit P3, and almost no one came into the gloomy storeroom that now functioned as his room.

"Did you do it?"

"Did I do what?"

"Send Leo away?"

He shook his head, looking down, but he didn't answer. They'd developed an understanding over the last five weeks; they didn't always answer the other's questions, and deflecting was fine, but they didn't out and out lie to each other, not for any reason.

"Chris," she said softly.

"It was important," he said without looking up.

"Which bit of it, exactly?"

"All of it. I told you, it was planned."

"Who planned it?" Lauren waved a hand in front of his face, startling him into looking up at her. "Who planned it, Chris?"

"Did you want something?"

"Chris, please," she said softly.

"Shouldn't you be practising?"

Lauren splayed a hand over the papers he was staring at. "Chris."

He sighed, sitting back in his chair. "I had to get into the house. And Leo has to know how to fight, and he'd never do it voluntarily. One of the Valkyries in the future told me how to get to the island, and what to tell them to get their help. It was all in the plan."

"And now Leo hates you."

"That isn't new," he said bitterly. "Lauren, I'm busy."

She studied him for a moment before taking a step away from his desk. "I don't believe Leo ever hated his own son."

"Yes, I suppose your four years as a foster beats my twenty as his actual son," Chris agreed, focus back on the papers. "Goodbye, Lauren."

He was expecting the door to slam, but she closed it gently behind herself. He hunched over his work, putting the whole thing out of his mind for the next several hours.

When he went back to the house to set the sisters on another hunt Lauren was playing with Wyatt in the conservatory. They ignored each other until the sisters were gone and Chris was left behind to watch Wyatt.

He stood in the doorway, carefully far enough away from Wyatt that he wouldn't raise his shield. That wouldn't help his case right now. "I'm sorry," he offered.

"Why? You're right. You're his son and I was just foisted on him."

"Lauren."

"They'd have sent me off if there was anywhere else they'd be sure I'd be safe. They've talked about it often enough."

Chris stepped into the conservatory, ignoring Wyatt's shield, and sat next to Lauren. "One thing I do know about Leo? He loves kids. Always has. Wouldn't matter to him why you were here. Once you got here, you're his."

She blinked furiously. "I still don't believe he hated you."

"Hated might have been strong," he agreed. "He didn't really anything me. He didn't come when I called, he was never at my plays or my games, I just didn't exist. Didn't matter."

"Chris," Lauren murmured.

"It doesn't matter, it's just what it is."

"Made the plan easier, I suppose, if you don't care what he thinks of you."

"Easier," Chris echoed. "Yeah."

Lauren glanced down at Wyatt, frowning. "Wyatt, put that away. This is Chris, we like Chris."

"He always does that. It doesn't matter."

"You're very fatalistic for a Halliwell, Chris."

He wasn't sure how to respond for a minute; then he saw the glint in her eye. "Very funny," he muttered. "You said they'd send you somewhere safe if they could find it?"

"Yeah, but it needs quite a lot of power to hide me, so really there isn't anywhere else. no one else as strong as the Halliwells, after all."

"They probably sent you to Magic School."

"To...?"

"Magic School. It's in another realm, and there's only a handful of ways in; it's impossible to scry, or search, or whatever your guys do. The year I turned two the whole place was rebuilt, and I bet they sent you there then. There isn't anywhere safer. That's why I don't remember you, because they didn't talk about you to keep you safe."

"Sounds nice. Did you go there?"

"Real school here in San Fran, afternoon classes at Magic School."

"Sounds like fun."

In perfect unison with him, she said "It was what it was" and laughed at the look on his face.