Disclaimer: Apart from those of my own creation in this story, the characters in 'Charmed' do not belong to me, but to Spelling Television. I am simply borrowing them for my own storytelling purposes.

CHARMED

"The Stone In The Sword"

TEASER

FADE IN:

EXT. P3 DAY

Hold for a beat to establish, then:

INT. P3 DAY

A picture of activity. Various workmen walk in and out, carrying all kinds of equipment and appliances. One workman walks in carrying an old wild west SALOON sign. In another section, a couple of them are on ladders, tending to the stage lights. Just then LEO enters, slightly curious about the hustle and bustle around him. As he walks on, he suddenly ducks to avoid being decapitated by a metal pole being carried by one of the workers. He surveys the scene before him and as he does, we follow his gaze stop at:

ANGLE on PIPER, his beloved wife, and soon-to-be mother of his much awaited child, standing behind the bar, drowning in a sea of paperwork. She looks seriously stressed out. LEO walks cautiously over to her and places a gentle kiss on her cheek.

LEO: Hey sweetie.

PIPER comes out of her momentary trance to respond to her husband's affectionate greeting.

PIPER: Hi honey.

LEO: Uh.re-decorating?

PIPER: More like planning to serve liquor to the five thousand. I've got a theme night booked for a bunch of lawyers and accountants that work for some hot shot business executive. So, for tonight this club ain't big enough for us mere mortals. How's the nursery coming along?



LEO: I've got to pick up some more stuff from the hardware store. I thought you said theme nights were tacky.

PIPER: I know. But they insisted on a wild west theme. Besides, with two hundred dollars per hour for a 6 hour event and three more similar offers over the next few days, I think P3 can afford to be.generous.

The discussion over P3's reputation and its customer base, is rudely interrupted by one of the stage lights crashing onto the floor. A moment of shock, then annoyance crosses over PIPER's face.

PIPER: (cont'd) Hey! Those lights cost a hundred and twenty dollars a piece! Do ya think you could do your jobs without demolishing my club?!

WORKMAN: Sorry ma'am.

LEO: I'm all for P3's success, Piper but don't you think you're overdoing it a little? You need to be in perfect health for the baby and that means plenty of rest and relaxation.

PIPER: (sighs) That also means plenty of boredom and restlessness. Leo, we've had this conversation already. As long as I am able to walk and (looks down at the bar, judging its width) fit behind this bar, I'm not gonna sit on my ass and watch the world and his wife go about their business. Besides, now that all's quiet on the demonic front, I'm gonna take full advantage of that.

LEO: I'm not asking you to give it all up. Just stop trying to be Superwoman and let the people who love you, help you.

PIPER: Okay, so what do you suggest I do?

LEO: Well, how about hiring an assistant manager for this place?

PIPER: I don't know Leo. The last person I left in charge turned this place into Hugh Heffner's castoff. And that's nothing compared to the homicidal maniac who wanted Prue's hairdo. Complete with Prue's head.

LEO: So we'll check the list twice this time. Find out who's naughty or nice.

PIPER: Cute. Alright I'll put out an ad first thing tomorrow morning.

LEO: Um.you won't have to. (off PIPER's questioning look) I sorta put one out already. I've met most of the applicants and I think I found the perfect one.

As if on cue, JOHN KRAMER, fair-haired, late twenties with a calm authoritative air about him, confidently strides into P3 and scans the situation before him.

LEO: (con'td) And by the looks of things he's just arrived.

PIPER: Talk about pre-dialling telepathy.

JOHN KRAMER having finished watching the workmen, spots PIPER and LEO at the bar and walks over to them.

JOHN: Mr and Mrs Wyatt? My name is John Kramer. I'm here about the position of general manager at this club.

Off PIPER and LEO 's expressions of expectancy as we CUT TO:



INT. A TEMPLE, IN THE YEAR 1667. NIGHT.

The room is illuminated by the ambience of candlelight placed everywhere. Near the centre are a group of druids dressed in white robes, with hoods covering their faces. They stand at an altar with various occult paraphernalia available to hand. The one that stands out the most is a beautifully decorated sword, made of gold and encrusted with various jewels. In the middle of the sword, placed together to make one whole, are three moon-shaped precious stones. One is ruby, one sapphire and the other an emerald. The druids are busy chanting something in latin. In a corner, a few feet away from them sits a young knight, no more than twenty, tied up. He looks on helplessly, yet the thought of escape is absurd as there are 5 Harbinger demons, dressed in black hooded cloaks guarding the entrance. The druids continue their unintelligible chanting for a while, then:

DRUID#1: Vengeful Esus, bringer of discord and fury, we invoke Your fiery might and ask that you lend us your passion and ignite our hatred.

DRUID#2: Merciless Taenis, bringer of death and damnation, we invoke Your thundery guidance and ask that you lend us your rage and illuminate our blindness.

DRUID#3: Colossal Taetetus, bringer of grief and destruction, we invoke Your earthly wrath and ask that you lend us your foundation of pain and awaken the darkness in our hearts.

As they continue with their ritual, the knight slowly begins to put his plan into action. He struggles with the rope tying his hands together:

ANGLE on the knight's hands, as the rope slowly becomes a bit loose, then:

ANGLE on his look of determination.

The druids mutter one final line in latin, before all three of them pick up the jewelled sword and hold it in the air. Suddenly, the air around it begins to crackle and .WHOOSH a huge wave of energy encompasses the temple. Then, ever so slowly, three points of light appear near the altar, one red, one electric blue and the other green. The lights spin around, faster and faster each time, rising higher into the air until they join together with an almighty bang and create a dimensional doorway.

Meanwhile, the knight who has been busy with his rope sees this and frantically tries to untie himself faster and as he does:

ANGLE on his wrists, wriggling until they quickly slip out of the rope.

The knight quickly gets up, takes a deep breath and gives a spine chilling war cry. This results in the entrance door of the temple being kicked in, by a small army of knights who immediately begin battle with the Harbingers.

Two of the knights take on two Harbingers, circling around each other, like some strange dance. The Harbingers pounce first, but the knights are ready for them, as they quickly draw their swords and impale the oncoming projectiles of Harbingers.

Seeing this, one of the druids clicks his fingers, and a small army of Harbingers come in from another door. Now the fight is even.

While all this is going on, the energy from the dimensional doorway gets stronger. The knight sees his chance and quickly grabs the ceremonial sword. He takes a quick look at it and with a satisfying scream, launches it into the vortex of energy. There is a huge blast of energy and an unearthly scream of pain, as the vortex begins to close. The knight closes his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief. Suddenly, his eyes pop wide open in shock. He drops to his knees and looks down to find:

ANGLE on the knight's mid-section, blood begins to seep through his unprotected body. As he falls to the floor, we see one of the druids standing over his body, watching as a sword in the knight's back begins to take his life. The druid stands for a moment and then promptly exits, leaving us with:

ANGLE on knight's face, barely alive. He looks at the battle scene for one last time before he dies and as he does we see:

ANGLE on the knight's blue eyes, slowly losing their sparkle, agonisingly, until they glaze over. we then CUT TO:

OPENING CREDITS.



ACT I

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO INSTITUTE OF ART. DAY

A beat to establish, then;

INT. ART GALLERY. DAY.

A very grandiose event that is bursting with razzmatazz. And that is just regarding the outfits worn by some of the ladies present. They are complemented by the gentlemen's black tuxedos. All around the room various sculptures, paintings and drawings are displayed like strange artefacts brought from faraway lands. For refreshments, various appropriately dressed waiters whiz around serving crepes and two thousand dollar champagne. As we move through the crowd, we experience the ambient conversations that generally ad lib admiration and interest in the exhibitions. We move on until we notice PAIGE, who is wearing a very unusual black sequined dress. She stands in front of an abstract piece that pays homage to Picasso. She is immediately joined by ALLEN JAMESON, early thirties, with clean cut brown hair and wearing a traditional tuxedo. He shows as much interest in PAIGE as he does the artwork, if not more.

ALLEN: Quite a piece, isn't it?

PAIGE: Quite.

ALLEN: The post-modern take on Picasso in this piece is superb. I mean look at the shading and the symmetry. You know, I heard that the artist that did this also got superb reception from the critics for that other picture over there.

ANGLE on said piece reveals that it is a picture of a classic painting of a nude, yet there is something very distinctive about this picture. PAIGE does not seem to be impressed by ALLEN's taste.

PAIGE: Okay, so what do you think this picture is trying to say?

ALLEN: Well, the subject is very.aesthetically pleasing. Pays tribute to the classic French style. The man has great talent.

PAIGE: (looking closely at signature on painting) Actually the artist's a woman. And she's making a protest statement.

ALLEN: And that would be?

PAIGE: Well, look at her face. She's directly looking at us, her expression is challenging us.

ALLEN: And?

PAIGE: And, she's not supposed to be a figure for the male gaze. Plus, the fact that she's a traditional French prostitute being displayed among the great and the good highlights that.

ALLEN: (genuinely interested/playful) Woah! Okay. I get your point. (then) So, are you an artist?

PAIGE: Sort of. I paint whenever I have the chance. Is it that obvious?

ALLEN: Well you do seem to have the instinct and passion for it. I'm Allen by the way. Allen Jameson. (holds out his hand to shake hers)

PAIGE: (returning the handshake) Paige Matthews.

ALLEN: Well then Paige Matthews, what do you say we go somewhere less formal, after we finish here?

PAIGE: (playful) Wanna give me a reason why I should go out with a chauvinist pig?

ALLEN: Let's just say I wanna find out more about your .other talents.





INT. A CASTLE LIBRARY, IN THE YEAR 1867. NIGHT.

Open on a room filled with various mystical ritual items. A large bookcase placed at one end of the room contains various ominous looking books on the dark arts. It is typically sorcerer's-laboratory looking. In the middle of the room sits an attractive looking WITCH, in her mid thirties, with long brown hair. She wears a long black dress and has a black hooded cloak on top. She is engrossed in a large book. On the table is another book, simple looking. The thing that immediately draws the reader's attention is the title 'The Book Of The Dead'. The WITCH puts down the book she is reading, clearly intrigued by some information she has gleaned from it. She picks out a pouch from the pocket of her cloak and takes out a pack of Druidic fortune cards. She shuffles the cards and picks out one and places it on the table. It shows the picture of a fiery deity in mid-battle. She picks up the next two, which show an earth deity and a lightning deity and places them on either side of the fire god. She picks up one more card, which simply shows a Hermit-like picture of a man. She puts this in another corner and gets up and goes to the window. She looks at the sky in expectation of something and gasps slightly as a meteor shower illuminates the ebony blanket of the night. This is it. This is what she's been waiting for. She quickly makes a break for the door, and as she does we see;

ANGLE on the druidic cards which have been placed in the form of an unfinished familiar symbol. An unseen force picks up the next card in the deck and places it in its rightful place, to reveal a completed pentagram. The picture on the card simply shows three women standing together under a divine looking light.



EXT. AT THE BACK OF A MUSEUM. DAY.

A black van pulls up outside the building. Two delivery men get out, walk to the back of the van and open the two doors. They take out an expensive looking mahogany case and walk over to the two security guards who stand on either side of MELISSA CLARKE, a twenty something curator who is dressed in a smart grey trouser suit.

DELIVERY MAN#1: Ms Clarke?

MELISSA: Yes that's me.

DELIVERY MAN#2 Where would you like us to put the exhibit?

MELISSA: That's okay, I'll take it. I wanna get started on the paperwork.

Delivery man#1 hands the case to her. Delivery man#2 hands her a form to sign. She does so and gives it back to him.

DELIVERY MAN#2: Okay ma'am. (handing the case to her) Have a nice day.

MELISSA: Thank you.

And with that, the two parties go their respective ways, the delivery men back to their van, and MELISSA, accompanied by the security guards goes back into the building.



INT. CASTLE CORRIDOOR, IN THE YEAR 1867. NIGHT.

The WITCH marches down a long corridor with a firm resolve on her face, until she reaches her destination, a room with two huge, elaborately decorated doors. The room is guarded by two HARBINGER DEMONS. As they see the WITCH approach, they tighten their stances to block her way.

HARBINGER#1: You. State your business.

WITCH: I am here to see the Druidic Council. I have information which I believe is of the highest importance.

HARBINGER#2: We shall pass any information to the Council. They must not be disturbed.

WITCH: (urgent) It is vital that I see them myself. It is regarding the Restoration.

The HARBINGERS then immediately step out of the way and allow her to pass, as if she had just uttered a secret password. The WITCH proceeds into:



INT. CONFERENCE ROOM. NIGHT.

And stands before 12 DRUIDS, who sit around a large round table. They watch her with great interest and suspicion at the same time, much like watching an infamous criminal that has been caught at last and is now on trial for her life. One of the DRUIDS, dressed more decoratively than the others addresses her. He's clearly the leader and speaks with great authority.

HEAD DRUID: Witch, what is the meaning of such an interruption?

WITCH: Forgive me, but I have gleaned information which I believe will be the foundation for your plans.

HEAD DRUID: Proceed.

WITCH: For months I have been charting the night sky, studying the movements of the tide and the stars. Tonight it spoke to me.

HEAD DRUID: (intrigued) "It" spoke to you?

WITCH: The sky illuminated me with knowledge. The planets are in alignment. The time for the Restoration is now.

At this, there are general inaudible murmurs of outrage. One of the DRUIDS speaks out for everyone, echoing the sentiments of the consensus.

DRUID#1: Impossible. We do not have the vessel. It was destroyed two hundred years ago.

WITCH: But it exists in another time, with another guardian prepared to facilitate your intentions. A spell I have enacted allowed me to bend the walls of time and space and created a connection between the guardian and myself. All that is required now is action from you.

The HEAD DRUID considers this for a beat, then:

HEAD DRUID: Very well. But be warned, Witch. Any treachery on your part and we shall watch you burn. Off the WITCH's expressionless face as we CUT TO:

EXT. P3 CAR PARK. EARLY EVENING.

PAIGE and ALLEN walk together and talk, like two old friends separated by the cruel blow of Time, yet inevitably reunited by the guiding hand of Fate. It is pretty quiet, as most of the 'Wild Wild West' theme night customers have arrived and begin to get into the spirit of the evening, with various sound effects of the Wild West, being heard from inside the club.





PAIGE: I hope you don't mind us going somewhere more quiet. My sister, ever the entrepreneur, has decided to let the entire population of lawyers and accountants in San Francisco loose under one building. God only knows what the damage report's gonna be like.

ALLEN: (amused) Watch out Ozzy Osbourne. How 'bout we go get some dinner? Thai sound good?

PAIGE: Thai sounds great.

ALLEN So, d'you get along with your sisters?

PAIGE: It's like your average oestrogen pumped household. Bickering over who "borrowed" someone's favorite lipstick and forgot to give it back, having severely adverse reactions to one of your brothers-in-law. Your usual.

ALLEN: Sounds great.

PAIGE: It's pretty awesome. Actually we only found each other nearly a year ago now. Quite a hell of a year I may add.

ALLEN: Problems?

PAIGE: Let's just say that we've had our fair share of living in interesting times. (then, realising that she's been doing most of the talking) Well, you've just spent the last few hours reading my autobiography. Now it's your turn to unload.

ALLEN: There's nothin' much to tell. I grew up in an orphanage. Turned to art as a form of escapism. I had some pretty dark days. It was kinda a salvation.

PAIGE: I'm so sorry.

ALLEN: Ah, it's no biggie. I've learnt to deal with it. (then, softly) Maybe you'd like to see some of my artwork sometime?

PAIGE: That would be great.

The tender moment is rudely interrupted by a HARBINGER DEMON, who appears a few feet in front of them. It cups its hands and a green ball of energy forms between them. This isn't an unfamiliar sight for PAIGE, who kicks into super-witch mode. The HARBINGER launches the energy ball at them and as he does;

PAIGE: (cont'd; shoving ALLEN to safety) Allen, watch out!

The momentum of PAIGE's push knocks ALLEN between two nearby parked cars, dazing him and shielding his view of PAIGE and the HARBINGER. The energy ball hastily makes its way towards PAIGE.and misses as she instinctively orbs out and orbs back in again, a few inches away.

HARBINGER: The time of the apocalypse approaches promptly. The Restoration comes.

PAIGE: Why can't I ever be approached by Jehovah's Witnesses like everyone else?

The HARBINGER prepares to set another energy ball at PAIGE, but is promptly distracted by the shock of its head being cruelly sliced off by a hand wielding a very expensive looking ceremonial dagger. The HARBINGER's headless body drops to its knees, as the head rolls a few inches away, carrying the same shocked expression. For a moment, nothing happens, then the familiar explosion occurs as the demon is vanquished. PAIGE looks to the hand with the dagger, and is shocked to find that it belongs to ALLEN, who managed to sneak up behind the bringer of doom while PAIGE distracted it.

ALLEN: You okay?

PAIGE: I'm fine. Where did you get the dagger?

ALLEN: I carry it around as.insurance. You didn't seem surprised to see that.thing.

Uh oh. Time to have "the talk " with him.

PAIGE: Um, yeah. Maybe we should go to my place. There's something you need to know about me.

Off ALLEN's curiosity as we CUT T0