Legacy: Life Before They Were Charmed

By: Ryeloza

Chapter One: Meetings

There's something a bit addictive about coffee. I never drank it before I started working here. But day after day, serving one cup of it after another, taking in that intoxicating scent, it kind of grows on you. For awhile, just the scent was enough to tide me over, but that only lasted about a year. One night, when things were winding down and the customers were dwindling, I sat down at the counter to take my break, and downed my first cup. And that was the night I met him. That was the night I met Victor.

Patricia Halliwell never really saw herself working at Buddy's. It was a place she and her friends hung out at regularly when she was in high school, but it never crossed her mind that she would someday be a waitress there. Granted, before the end of her life, there were many, many things she did in her life that in her youth would have seemed inconceivable. Working at Buddy's, though, was probably one of the most surprising.

Patty was born and raised in San Francisco by parents who seemed to go through more phases than she did. When she was very young, Penny and Allen had been a somewhat normal couple, with fairly normal expectations and goals in life. Patty was very grateful for this; she directly attributed it to the fact that she ended up relatively normal. Right around the beginning of her sophomore year, however, her father became quite involved in the Hippie movement that was sweeping the country, and eventually led her mother down the same path. Right before her sixteenth birthday, her dad quit his job, putting somewhat of a financial strain on the family. Fortunately for them, Patty's grandmother and grandmother's cousin, who was known most affectionately as Aunt Phoebe to both Patty and Penny, were very liberal with their money, and helped out Allen and Penny as much as they could. Granted, Patty had her suspicions that a good deal of their reasoning in this matter was to make sure nothing happened to the manor. It had been built when her grandmother was a little girl, and she had lived there almost her entire life. In fact, until Patty was about eight, her grandmother and Aunt Phoebe had lived with them. Then her aunt Elizabeth had died, and her grandmother and surrogate aunt had gone to live with her uncle Gordon and look after her cousin, Gordie IV.

During high school Patty spent a good deal of her time at her aunt Sarah's house. Sarah was Allen's older sister, and much more level-headed and practical than her brother. It was much preferable to be there sometimes, rather than her own home, where her parents' friends spent a good deal of their free time.

Then the summer before her senior year of high school, everything changed.

She had been spending the weekend at Aunt Sarah's when she got a call from her mother informing her that her father had died. It was the worst week of her life. Her mom had told her that it was a demon who killed her father, and that she had vanquished the demon. It was the first demon her mother had vanquished in nine months, and it changed her drastically. Gone was the peace-loving, trippy woman of the past few years; she was replaced with one of the most determined, strong women Patty had ever encountered. Even her mourning was subdued, and taken with utmost seriousness. It was a side of her mother Patty had rarely seen before.

She spent most of the summer fairly secluded, despite her mother's urging to get out more. But she was grieving in her own manner, and it wasn't until school started that she began return to her normal self.

Her grandmother and Aunt Phoebe visited much more frequently after her father's death. Patty got the distinct impression that although they felt terrible at Allen's passing, they were also somewhat relieved at Penny's complete reversal in attitude. It was relatively common knowledge in the family that Patience Johnson and Phoebe Bowen, Patty's grandmother and distant cousin respectively, had vanquished their cousin, Penelope Russell, in 1924. It was this cousin whom Patty's mother was named for, despite the fact the cousin had turned to evil. Inevitably, Patience had felt a good deal of sorrow after the vanquish, though she always said it was the only choice she and Phoebe had had in the end. To honor the good person her cousin was before she was seduced by evil, she had chosen to name her only daughter Penelope. Knowing this, Patty wasn't surprised that her grandmother was very glad to see Penny back on the "right track" after her stint as a Hippie.

Patty graduated in the class of '68 with fairly high grades, but no aspirations to go to college. At least not right away. For years her aunt Sarah, and in her senior year, her mother, had been encouraging her to work hard and go to college. It was never a particular goal of Patty's, however. So it was around August that she began to work at Buddy's.

She found the job enjoyable for the most part. There was one other waitress she didn't get along with, but that girl quit at the end of the summer to go away to school. The customers ranged from extremely generous and amiable to penny pinching cranks. It paid well enough for Patty, so she stuck with it, all the while living with her mother.

Her graduation from high school, along with Penny's reinvestment in the ongoing war of good versus evil, marked a significant increase in the amount of vanquishing Patty did. When she was younger, and particularly when she was a preteen, Patty had spent a good deal of time studying witchcraft, and even assisted her mother in a few vanquishes. Mostly she'd freeze whichever particular demon they were facing, and her mother would do the actual vanquishing, but it had been good practice. And when she became an official adult, she became much more proactive. In November, she took on her first demon without any assistance, and found it exhilarating.

So the year progressed with some variance, and Patty felt her life truly coming together.

Then in August 1969 she met Victor Bennett.

She had offered to take the night shift for her friend Cathy. It was a shift she rarely worked, but it was Cathy's brother's birthday, so Patty decided to do her a favor. It was a Friday, and Buddie's was very busy, jammed especially with high school kids. Patty worked nearly nonstop the whole shift, and it wasn't until about ten thirty that things began to wind down and she could take a break. She sat down at the counter, her first cup of coffee in front of her, and sipped it while conversing with Maggie, who was working behind the counter. She didn't even bother to look over at the door when it opened, and didn't notice Buddie's newest customer until she got back up to finish her shift.

The man who had entered was alone, and looked to be around Patty's age. She hardly noticed him however, pulling out her pad and a pencil as soon as she approached the table and stifling a yawn. It had been a long night.

"Hi," she said, forcing a smile on her face. "Ready to order?"

"Hmm," said the man. "Let's see." He opened the menu dramatically and Patty suppressed a yawn. She glanced down at her watch. Only about an hour left and she could go home.

"Why don't I just come back?" she said after waiting for what seemed a rather long minute.

"No, no, no," he squinted at her name tag, "Patty. I'm ready. I'll have a Coke, a hamburger with fries, and...your phone number."

Patty scribbled his order down, nonplused by his pick up line, or the fact that he was staring up at her expectantly. She flashed him an unamused smirk, and stalked off toward the kitchen.

"He's a cutie," said Harriet as Patty put in the man's order. "Was he putting the moves on you?"

Patty shrugged. Harriet was always asking if young males in the restaurant were "putting the moves" on Patty. Harriet was about sixty, and enjoyed living vicariously through others. Especially when it came to rendevous with men. Often Patty caught her reading trashy romance novels when she was on her breaks.

"I think he was," said Harriet. "You should give him your number."

"My life is way too complicated for someone like that," said Patty.

Harriet scoffed. "You're nineteen Patty. Your life can't be complicated."

Patty rolled her eyes and grabbed mystery man's Coke. "I'll be hard pressed to find a man who can understand my life." And she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Harriet to gripe to herself about the day's youth. In truth, they were more Penny's words than Patty's. It was one of her mother's favorite gripes; how Patty had to find the perfect man to understand the witchcraft in their family. Allen, Penny often said, had been an exceptionally understanding man. This raised the bar for Patty to find someone just as exceptional.

She set the Coke on the table and the man flashed her another warm smile. "I'm Victor, by the way," he said. "Victor Bennett."

Patty could feel a headache coming on. This was the last time she'd work the night shift on a Friday, if at all possible.

"And you're Patty...?" he said.

"Halliwell," she responded, trying to get through the conversation with as little effort as possible.

"Halliwell," he repeated. "Patricia?"

She nearly groaned, and then caught herself at the last second. Instead she leaned down so she was nearly eye level with him. "Let me ask you something Victor Bennett. Are you an exceptionally understanding man?"

Victor seemed taken aback for a moment, and then grinned cheekily. "No."

Patty nodded. "Exactly," she said. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"Hey! Wait a minute," Victor protested, but Patty ignored him, and went to another table to refill a cup of coffee. When she turned back towards Victor's table, he was gone, leaving behind only a few crumbled bills. Patty sighed in relief, and went back to cancel his order.

She wouldn't see him again for another week.

After her shift was over that night she went home and immediately crashed in her bed, not waking up until nearly eleven the next morning. Still tired, and clad in pajamas, she slunk downstairs to the kitchen, where she found her mother, grandmother, and Aunt Phoebe.

"Morning," she said, slipping into one of the vacated chairs and burying her head in her arms on the tabletop.

"Do you have a hangover this morning, Patricia?" Phoebe inquired. She was never one to pussyfoot around the point.

Patty raised her head and looked at Phoebe. "No," she said bluntly. "Not from alcohol, anyway."

"Patty was working last night," Penny supplied. Patience reached over and smoothed Patty's hair down, looking at her lovingly. Then she turned away, staring off at nothing. She did that a lot, and Patty sometimes wondered just what her grandmother was always daydreaming about. Whenever she tried to discuss this with her mother, however, Penny would only tell her that her grandmother had had a hard life, and not to question her about it.

"Out of high school a year already, Patricia," said Phoebe. "I can hardly believe it. And Gordie's starting eighth grade this year. You're both growing up too quickly. Aren't they, Patience?"

Patience snapped back to attention and looked at her cousin. "Gordie looks like his father," she said. "And Gordon looks like his father. All the Gordons look alike."

Phoebe nodded and patted her cousin on the hand. Patty gave her grandmother a curious look. She could truly ramble on about nothing sometimes.

"I always thought the same," said Phoebe. She glanced at Penny and then stood up. "Come on, Patience," she said. "Let's get going."

Phoebe walked around the table and kissed Penny, and then Patty, Patience following her in a bit of a daze. She paused only to give Patty a tight hug. Then they were gone.

As soon as Patty heard the door shut she started in on her mother. "Grandma wasn't always like that, was she?" she asked.

Penny stood up and walked over to the sink. "Like what?" she said, turning on the water to wash the cups they had been drinking out of.

"Like she is," said Patty. "She says the most random things sometimes. And other times she's completely lucid and comprehendible."

"Grandma dwells on things," said Penny. "She's had a hard life, and because she doesn't let go of the past easily, she drifts off sometimes. It's been worse since Grandpa died."

Patty had heard that explanation at least a dozen times. "Is it because she and Aunt Phoebe had to vanquish their cousin?"

"Partly," said her mother. "Are you working today?"

Patty almost sighed. Her mother always changed the subject when they were talking about her grandmother. Even when Allen was alive, and she had been much more free spirited about everything, Penny had refused to tell Patty much about her grandmother.

"No," said Patty. "I'm working tomorrow afternoon." She pulled her legs up so she was sitting Indian style on the chair. "No one else in our family dwells on things," she observed, trying to bring the subject back to where she wanted it.

"Your uncle Gordon does," said Penny. "It's one of the only things he inherited from Mom. And you're dwelling on something right now."

Patty frowned, and threw out her hands, trying to freeze her mother, and knowing very well that it wouldn't work. Stupid power. "Well I hope none of my children inherit it," she said stubbornly, not sure if she was talking about her grandmother's personality, her own power, or both.

"Oh Patty, why are you even worrying about it? You're only nineteen. You won't have children for years yet."

That wasn't the point. But instead of saying what she was thinking, Patty simply responded, "Yeah, I know. You're right." She rolled her neck around and stood, walking over to her mother. "I'm going to go get dressed," she announced. "Susan and I are going out shopping this afternoon."

"Alright,"said her mother. She stopped doing the dishes and turned to kiss Patty on the forehead. "Be careful, sweetheart."

"I always am, Mom," said Patty with a sigh.

Penny raised a skeptical eyebrow and went back to the dishes.

Susan had been Patty's best friend since her junior year of high school. She was a short, energetic girl and severely ambitious. Unlike Patty, she had chosen to go to college, and was actually attending a university on the east coast, making her and Patty's time together much more infrequent. But no matter how often they saw each other, one thing never changed; Susan loved to prod Patty into doing things. Her topic for the afternoon was getting Patty to apply for the spring semester at the university. Patty spent the time deflecting Susan's attempts with excuses like, "My mother needs me at home" or "I don't have the money." They parted ways that day, neither completely understanding the others' reasoning, but Susan promising she'd come visit Patty at Buddy's sometime in the next week before she left for school.

It would be a turning point in Patty's life.

It just so happened the day Susan chose to visit was that Thursday afternoon, around three o'clock. It was two hours before Patty got off for the evening, and early enough that the dinner rush hadn't begun yet. So Patty decided to go on break and she and Susan went outside and sat down on a bench.

Susan immediately lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and then blew out the smoke in a huff. "Really, Patty," said Susan, wasting not a moment. "You're too smart to be dwindling away your life at Buddie's."

Patty shrugged. "My family is really important to me. I can't just pick up and leave."

Susan rolled her big green eyes and puffed away on the cigarette again. "Well then go to school somewhere around here," she said. "Just do something with your life. It's almost the '70s. Do you know how many more opportunities we'll have?"

Susan was a big supporter of the women's rights movement. She was always talking about the opportunities the future was going to provide them as women.

"I just don't want to go to school, Susan. Get over it already."

Susan shook her head, dropped her cigarette, stamped it out, and lit another. "I think you're crazy, Pat."

"So Pat's the name you prefer." Patty and Susan both looked to their left and Patty groaned outwardly. There stood Victor Bennett again, hands in the pockets of his jeans, grinning.

"It's Patty," she said. "Not that it matters to you."

Victor shrugged and walked around, sitting down on the bench next to Patty. "Who's your friend?" he asked.

Patty and Susan exchanged a glance, and then Susan took in a large lung-full of smoke and blew it out in Victor's direction. He just continued smiling and stuck out a hand.

"I'm Susan," she said cooly, not extending her hand. "Who's the guy, Patty?"

"No one-" Patty began, just as Victor said, "Victor Bennett."

Victor crossed his arms and slunk down on the bench, as though making himself comfortable for a long stay. "I think I offended Patty here, the other night," he said.

"Oh?" said Susan. "That's not surprising. You seem annoying."

"Susan!" said Patty, her eyes growing wide. Then immediately she regretted her reprimand. She certainly didn't want to encourage the man.

"What'd you do?" asked Susan, ignoring Patty.

Victor shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said. "She asked me if I was exceptionally understanding, and I said no. Then she walked away."

Susan slung an arm around Patty's shoulders. "Good for you, Patty," she said. "I'm proud of you."

Victor shook his head. "All I wanted was her telephone number. What's wrong with that?"

"There's no point, Victor," said Patty, bursting in on his conversation with Susan. "Nothing is going to happen between us."

"You don't know that," said Victor.

"Yes," said Patty. "I do."

Susan leaned back against the bench. "I'd listen to her, Vic. Patty's pretty strong willed."

"So am I."

Patty rolled her eyes. "You don't even know anything about me."

"Sure I do," protested Victor. "I know you're stubborn, straightforward, and pretty. And that you're looking for an exceptionally understanding man." He leaned in towards Patty. "But I'll let you in on a secret. I don't think you'll ever find what you're looking for."

Patty crossed her arms, irritated. "My mother found it," she said. Beside her she felt Susan stiffen. It was in Susan's nature to be overprotective, and she was especially so with Patty since her father had died.

But Victor didn't seem to have a witty response to that. Instead he sat up straighter, his smile fading. "Just one date, Patty. Please."

Susan flicked her cigarette to the ground.

Patty sighed. "Do you promise to stop bothering me?"

Victor held up a hand. "Scout's honor," he said.

"Fine, then," said Patty. She rose to her feet, and Susan followed suit.

"Tomorrow night?" asked Victor.

Patty nodded. "Meet me here, at five thirty." And without another word she turned away from Victor and embraced Susan in a firm hug.

"See you around kiddo," said Susan softly. Patty gave her a small smile, and headed back inside.

And as the door closed, the last words she heard were those of Susan, warning Victor to be good.