Title: A Charmed Beginning

Category: Charmed/Highlander crossover

Rating: T

Disclaimer: The characters and concepts from Charmed belong to Constance M. Burge and Spelling Television Inc. The characters and concepts from Highlander: The Series belong to Gaumont Television, Davis Panzer Productions Inc. and Rysher Entertainment. Everything is made up.

Author Notes:

1) This story takes place somewhere in the second half of the second season of Charmed after Prue quits Buckland's and somewhere in the second half of the fifth season of Highlander.

2) This story is the first of a trilogy.

3) This was my very first fanfic ever, and this posting is dedicated to a close friend who was the first person to encourage me to continue writing and assisted me with this trilogy. Happy Birthday, C.B.!

Summary: Duncan and Richie move to San Francisco and make new friends.


Chapter 1

"Please be open, please be open, please be open," Phoebe Halliwell chanted like a mantra as she sped down the darkened street.

She had been halfway home from her self-defense class when she realized she had forgotten the tax forms for P3 in her locker. When Piper and Prue couldn't pick up the documents from the nightclub's accountant, Phoebe convinced her sisters that she could get the papers before her class. Phoebe resented her reputation as being unreliable though even she had to admit that it was based in some truth.

But I've become much more responsible during the last 18 months, she insisted to herself as she ran a red light. Still, she knew she would never hear the end of it if she didn't come home with those darn forms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Phoebe sighed with relief as she spotted her instructor's motorcycle by the gym's entrance. She parked her car with the slightest of skid marks and ran to the brick building. My luck must be changing, she thought when the doorknob turned easily in her hand.

Phoebe went straight to the women's locker room and found the papers right where she had left them. She collapsed onto one of the benches to catch her breath. Her heart leapt to her throat when she heard a loud thud.

"Hello?" she called out nervously. The only response was another thud followed by a grunt. Uh-oh, here's the part in the horror movie that is my life where the villain comes out to play, Phoebe thought slowly getting to her feet. I knew things were going too well.

Darklighters, demons and warlocks, oh my, she thought as she tiptoed out of the locker room. She headed toward the gym and cautiously peered in to find her instructor squaring off against another man. Hmmmm, from horror flick to gladiator movie, Phoebe thought, cool.

Her instructor was the lanky, boy-next-door type with short, light reddish brown hair and mischievous eyes. His opponent looked like he stepped off the cover of a romance novel. He was tall and muscular with his long, dark hair tied back. Both were dressed in black

Sleeveless shirts and sweatpants. The men circled each other without noticing her and then began exchanging blows. Although she was still a novice, Phoebe could tell that the combatants knew each other's moves pretty well. She was impressed that her instructor was holding his own against someone who was bigger. Yoda's words from The Empire Strikes Back sprang into her mind as she watched the fight. "Size matters not." It only matters sometimes, Phoebe thought to herself devilishly. She was in awe at the speed at

which they attacked and counter-attacked. Though the punches were not held back, neither man seemed to be suffering any ill effect.

However, as time goes on, inevitably mistakes are made. This time it was her instructor who made the error. Taking advantage of it, his opponent quickly pinned him on his back.

"That's three falls, Rich," the man said cheerfully. "You owe me a beer."

"Next time, Mac," Richie groaned. "I'll get you next time."

"Will we be learning those moves in class?" Phoebe asked startling the two men, "or are they from the intermediate level?"

"Phoebe," Richie said as 'Mac' let him up. "I thought you left."

"I did, but I forgot something in my locker," Phoebe replied then looked at the other man expectantly.

"Oh, sorry," Richie apologized. "Phoebe Halliwell, this is Duncan MacLeod, a friend and personal slave master. Mac, this is Phoebe Halliwell, one of my students."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Duncan said as he shook her hand. Richie rolled his eyes.

"Likewise," Phoebe giggled at the irony of his choice of words. "Do you teach any of the classes here?"

"I pitch in once in a while," Duncan said when Phoebe noticed the clock over his shoulder.

"Oh man, I didn't realize it was so late," Phoebe said. "I've got to go. It was nice meeting you, Duncan."

"I assure you, the pleasure was all mine," he said.

"I'll walk you to your car," Richie said following her. "You never know who may be out there."

"Isn't that why I'm taking the self-defense course in the first place?" she teased.

"Just humor me, ok?" Richie said as they left the gym.


Duncan smiled as he watched Richie escort the impish brunette out of the gym. He grabbed some water from the cooler as he waited for his friend to come back. Although he missed Joe, he was glad he made the move to San Francisco. In Seacouver, it seemed like every week some immortal was in town looking for his head. Hopefully, I'll get some well-deserved rest here, he thought as he felt Richie return from the parking lot.

"She seems nice," Duncan said as his former student entered the gym.

"She is nice," he replied, "and don't give me that look. We have a strictly teacher-student relationship."

"How is she in class?" Duncan asked as Richie grabbed some water.

"She has potential and enthusiasm," Richie said as they walked to the benches at the other end of the gym. "All she needs to do is focus more."

"Now why does that sound familiar?" Duncan chuckled remembering Richie's early lessons.

"Hey," Richie said indignantly though flushed slightly at the memories of how many times Duncan told him to focus and tossed him on his butt when he didn't.

"It's a good thing she saw us when she did," Duncan said as he took his katanna from his coat.

"I know," Richie said retrieving his own sword. "Don't worry. I locked the door. We shouldn't have anymore unexpected visitors."

They walked to the centre of the room and started to circle.

"First one whose blade touches the neck wins," Duncan said laying out the usual terms for the fight. "The loser buys the winner a beer."

"So long as we both clean up any mess afterwards," Richie said. "There's a new class starting at 8:00 tomorrow morning, and they might get nervous if they notice any bloodstains on the floor."

The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed throughout the night.