Mother & Child Reunion

Motherhood, on some level, had always been on Paige's to-do list, but it never seemed to make it out off the 'Where-do-you-see-yourself-in-five-years' section, or as it's more commonly known, "the end." Then again, neither had marriage, which had had the audacity to arrive both suddenly and unannounced. Paige reasoned that, if she could cope with the spontaneous arrival of marriage, along with it's persistent ebbs and flows, then she could, with a little help, handle motherhood and all the beautiful messes that go with it. This attitude was a work in progress, but then, she figured, so is life.

"Criminy," said Paige, looking around the nursery. "It's just like Piper's bedroom." Architecturally speaking, it was Piper's room, all the way down to the fireplace (In a nursery?), the walk in closet, and the elegant bay window, which made up the entire far wall (It's still snowing, I see.). Just in front of the windows, there was a pine green sofa and two cranberry colored armchairs, as well as a maple-wood coffee table and two end tables. There was also a small restroom on the right. So far, so familiar.

Paige looked down at the baby in her arms. "Well, Hunter, either we run our own daycare center in the future, or you're gonna be getting some company sometime soon." She looked back up. "And lots of it."

There were eight tall, wooden cribs, each a different color, arranged in two rows of four. A wide path ran down the middle. "Okay, little man, let's see which one of these is gonna be yours. Whaddya say?" With Hunter in her arms she walked between the two rows, stopping at each crib to inspect it and ask what Hunter thought. She couldn't just let him start his new life in Halliwell Manor in a randomly designated bed. The crib had to, in some way, speak to his nature. It was sort of like a re-working of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. The locks of gold were still there, anyway.

"How 'bout that red one?" she asked. "No. Not quite; it's too loud. The blue one? Nah; too quiet. The green? Nope; too easy. The yellow? Ehn, too wrong."

Though Paige wasn't aware of it at the time, this process of crib choosing was a perfect example of the kind of mother she was already becoming. She refused to raise her four children in four traditionally styled rooms with bedspreads and furniture chosen just because they matched the color of the walls. Instead, she would spare no effort to insure that every inch of her children's environments both mirrored and supported them as individuals.

"Well Babe, I think orange is your color. Let's see how you like it, though." It suited him perfectly. Orange it was. "There you go, baby boy," she said tenderly, as she tucked Hunter in for a well-deserved nap. Once she'd let go of him, she couldn't remember a time when her arms felt so empty. She already missed the warm fuzziness of his heavy head, and the way his entire hand would cup itself around the tip of her pinky finger. However, she managed to resist picking him up again, putting his needs before her own. She was so proud of this decision; it felt so… motherly.

"Okay, little hero," said Paige, putting the tip of her little finger in the palm of Hunter's hand. "Now I know you need your sleep, so I'm gonna scoot on outta here in a second, but I can tell ya right now, I'm not gonna sleep a wink, much less 40 of 'em, unless we have ourselves a liiittle introduction." She could've sworn he understood every word she was saying (Wise from the very beginning… He must take after me). And he did take after her, more than she knew. Though not nearly as much as his little brother.

"Let's see now… what do I need to prepare you for, future-wise?" Paige asked, with a whisper of a smile. "Oh, I know. I wanna apologize in advance for showing the entire world your naked baby pictures because, let's face it, it's gonna happen. What else, what else… Ooh, here's a good one: I also apologize in advance for any embarrassing remarks I might make in front of your friends or significant others, who, by the way, as long as they make you happy and treat you well, they're cool by me. Seriously, little dude, you're Mom's one hip chick. They can be black, white, purple; female, male, in-transition, undecided; my only request, and this is just a request now. It's not some passive-aggressive Godfather-esque keep-it-in-the-family type request; it's just a request… Can you please steer clear of darklighters and warlocks and demons and anything else that's taken a walk on the dark side? Oh wait, though. If it comes to humans who used to be demons, 'cause they got in touch with a somethin' or other… Can you just let me cope with that on a case-by-case basis, 'cause some of those guys can be pretty darn cool."

Paige touched her finger to her lip. "Hmmm. Anything else…? Oh, I know. If on your first day of school you just happen to see some crazy lady with binoculars fall out of a tree where she'd been keeping an eye on you because she's scared-to-death that God knows what might happen to you… If this woman just happens to look exactly like me, and she just happens to drive the same car as me, and if she just happens to be wearing the exact same thing I was wearing when you left for school that morning... Don't you worry, I will give that glamouring Uncle Leo of yours a stern talking to as soon as I see him, not to mention telling him a thing or two about car jacking. What can I say? He gets a little kooky when it comes to you kiddies."

Just when it looked like she might be done: "Oh, one more thing! If you ever bring two eighteen-year-old sons from the future, please give me a few weeks notice. Piper may be cool with being called 'Grandma' when she's 32. Me, not so much. In fact, that would be enough to make me rethink my stance on botox injections and we don't wanna go there now, do we? No, we don't. That's right. No we don't."

Then came the moment she'd been looking forward to since the night Wyatt was born. "But most of all, more than anything else… I want you to know that… You are safe – you are loved – and…" (Wait a second here… I've looked forward to sayin' this for forever and it's just gonna come and go like that? How is it that a life-long promise only takes ten seconds to make? Hmm? Answer me that… If only there were some way to make it last -)

"And you are wise," said Hunter.

"Ooh!" Paige squeaked as she jumped. "Oh hi," she said, relieved. "Phew, you startled me."

"Sorry 'bout that," said Hunter. "I really should've knocked."

"Oh, don't be silly," said Paige. "Since when do you have to knock to come in your own room? After all, this technically is your room now."

Hunter smiled, small but respectful. "You do have a point there," he said. "Still, I just wasn't thinking. I really should've known…"

Paige hoisted an eyebrow. "Should've known what?"

(Uh-oh) "And apparently I'm still not thinking."

"Should've known what?"

(that I'd soon be wanted by the consequences police.)

"Sweetie?"

"Huh?"

"Read my lips: Shooould – haaaave – knoooown - whaaat?"

Hunter's face held the same awkward expression it always did when his mom asked him what he thought of her latest cooking disaster… I mean, endeavor. "Mom, it's really nothing."

As for Paige, her face looked more like a cheeky border patrol officer who was confiscating a fake I.D.

"It's just –" said Hunter. "I just didn't mean to embarrass you. That's all."

Paige's eyes went as wide as an owl's. "Embarrassed? Me? I'm not embarrassed. What makes you think I'm embarrassed? I'm not embarrassed."

Hunter thought to himself, (Three – two – one!)

"Okay, so maybe I'm a teeeency bit embarrassed, but not much."

(Atta girl, Mom.)

"In fact, you'd need a microscope to see just how not embarrassed I really am."

"Ah, I see."

Hunter's eyes took a brief stroll to the side, then came back to center, settling on Paige's own, but somehow, during the journey there and back again, their quality had changed. Even at full burn, his eyes weren't particularly intimidating, merely crisp and alive. But in that moment, they put the "baby" back in "baby blue", and treated her carefully, like a father who lowers the shade of his daughter's bedroom window, so that her eyes can greet morning's first light at their own pace. Paige had never felt so known. "What would you say," Hunter asked, "if I told you that I'm probably just as nervous as you are?"

Paige dipped her gaze a little. "I'd say that you probably already know what I would say." She looked back up at him. "And that's a little scary," she told him. "I don't mean 'scary' scary, More like the kind of scary that makes me see why Piper wondered if Rory knew what color underwear she was wearing. That kind of scary."

"Wait a second," said Hunter. "You've met Rory?"

"Oh, I've done more than that, my dear," said Paige. "I -- am personally acquainted -- with every single member of the 'Mighty Ring of Nine' plus my two Great Nephews!" She gave a sly bounce of her eyebrows. "Steven and I are particularly close. He was in my bed when I woke up this morning."

Hunter's lips burst forth like a busted tire as he started to laugh.

"I believe "sleepwalking" was his excuse, but I dunno if I buy it or not."

Eventually, Hunter's laughter settled enough for him to say, "Mom, you poor thing."

"Ehn! It was a good ice-breaker," said Paige. "Apparently we have the same bedroom."

"Second floor, U-turn, end of the hall?"

"That's the one."

"Yep," said Hunter. "Steve and Jared used to share that room."

(Dear god. The thought alone.) "Poor Jared."

Hunter smiled. "Actually, it was all part of the Puppet Master's master plan," he said. "And Aunt Piper's one of the best puppet masters in the business."

"Can't say I'm too surprised," said Paige. "So what was the mastery of these bedroom arrangements?"

"Uncle Leo says…"

Paige laughed.

"Uh-oh," Hunter teased. "What's funny?"

"Nothing. Nothing, it's just…" Paige laughed again. "I'm sorry, I've just never heard anyone call them 'Aunt Piper' and 'Uncle Leo'," she said. "Sorry, sorry. No more interruptions." She cleared her throat. "So you were saying?"

Hunter sent her a wry grin. "Well… Uncle Leo says that Aunt Piper…" He paused just in case. "…had a method behind which two or three boys shared a room. She figured that since Jared was such a light sleeper, he'd be able to catch Steve before he sleepwalked outta the room. She used to have nightmares of him walking naked into the middle of the street."

"Mm-hmm," said Paige. "And did it work?"

"Um. Sorta. It was kind of a tradeoff," said Hunter. "Jared did catch Steve most of the time, so after awhile, instead of sleepwalking around the house or outta the house, Steve just…" (How should I say this?) "Let's just say that Jared got used to waking up with Steve using him as a body pillow."

Paige's face froze in its nose-crinkled position.

"Even after the 'Brat Basement' was built," said Hunter, "and everybody had their own room, Jared used to wake up in the middle of the night and run into the hall wondering where Steve was. It used to take him a few seconds before he remembered that they slept in different rooms. Sometimes he still forgets."

One phrase had caught Paige's ear: "Brat Basement?"

"Oh, it's not really a basement. It's just one floor down from here," said Hunter. "It's huge. Every single kid and grandkid in this house lives in Brat Basement."

"I see," said Paige. "And who's the gifted poet that gave it such a lovely name?"

Hunter made a slow, deliberate look at the door, then back at his mom. "Guess ya didn't know Dad was a poet, huh?"

Paige sighed. "Apparently I didn't know your dad was a lot of things." Suddenly, the image of the tallest of her nephews using the second tallest as a body pillow revisited her. "Poor, poor, poor Jared."

Hunter shrugged. "We're all used to it by now. Sooner or later he's ended up in everybody's b-"

Paige raised her hand. "Stop! … right there, Mister," she said. "I think I'm just gonna let that one be a not-so-pleasant surprise."

"Only the kids-"

"Bup-bup-bup-bup-bup!" Paige put her finger to his lips. "Seriously now, let me just vanquish that bridge when I come to it. I'd rather not carry that image until I absolutely have to."

Hunter answered through his finger-pressed lips. "Ysss M'mmm."

Paige took her finger away and gave him a light pat on the cheek. "And no ma'am-ing me either please."

Though Hunter played it off fairly well, he was ready to burst with story after story of how Henry would never cease to amaze her, and that a few things Hunter learned about magic, especially how to respect it, came straight from his dad. But Henry's influence didn't stop at home; he made his share of waves at Magic School as well. Big waves. Huge. Surf-on-'em kind of waves.

Henry was quick to notice that the parents of magical kids rarely if ever showed any interest in their children's education. He constantly saw the parents coming to visit their kids and get downright squeamish when the words "magic" or "powers" came up. Either that, or the family avoided such terminology altogether. So, on the first school day of Hunter's second grade year – a day all the parents would be present at Magic School – Henry marched to the front of the auditorium in his leather jacket, plaid shirt and jeans, and gave the parents an earful. He said to them, "Folks, I can't dance a single step, but I'm at all of my daughter's performances. My sister in law's two-year-old can play the piano better than I can, but I'm at every single one of my son's recitals. And I can't blip from here to China and back in two seconds, but my son needs to know that it means something to me that he can."

Henry slept well that night. Really, really well. And from that day forward, Hunter heard over and over again, "Man, your Dad is soooo cool."

"I hope the orange crib is okay," said Paige. "When I was trying to decide, I narrowed it down to the orange one, the green one, and the purple one."

A corner of Hunter's mouth traveled upwards. "You can never have too much orange or green," he said. "Speaking of orange…" He took a step closer and picked up a strand of Paige's brown-colored hair. "What's with this brown business?" he asked her. "Are you tryin' to downplay your reputation as a fiery red-head?" Then it hit him. "Ohhh! I get it! Dad doesn't know, does he?"

Paige snatched her hair back from him. "No. He. Doesn't. - and don't you dare tell him."

Hunter chuckled. "Aw come on, Mom. He loves your red hair."

"Delighted to hear it," said Paige. "He'll just have to love it later on."

"What if we don't tell him how it got that way?"

Paige's hands hopped up to her hips. "If you tell him anything at all, I'm gonna change your name to Buffy and send you to Slayer School."

Hunter's eyes flashed with shock. "Okay, you win," he said. "Me and leather are pants? Not a happy marriage," he added. "Riley on the other hand…"

"Riley Halliwell?" said Paige. "Mister Fairy-Tale-Prince-meets-the-Boy-Next-Door? That Riley?" And she'd known him less than a day. "Nope. Sorry. Can't see it."

"Usually not, but this was Halloween about two years ago," said Hunter. "Chris talked Riley into going out as Neo from The Matrix. He had on the black leather pants, a tight black shirt, and Shane let him borrow his boots, his shades, and I think Wyatt or somebody lent him a black trench coat… Dylan said he looked like a Selsun Blue Shampoo commercial: All black clothes and not a flake of dandruff… But I thought Riley looked pretty spiffy in his Neo duds. So we all went out that night, and about ten minutes after we all left home, Chris orbed Riley's trench coat off to… I dunno, but somewhere he couldn't find it, leaving Riley's backside open for all the world to see."

"Ah, lovely," said Paige.

"It was hilarious," said Hunter. "Riley got so embarrassed from all the people whistling at him, and Chris wasn't helping much, telling him that this or that person was checking him out, and trying to get him to go get their phone number."

"Chris did this?" Paige asked. "Hurricane Chris? Fun-loving Dad? When did that happen?"

Hunter enjoyed the look of surprise on her face. For one thing, he himself was amazed at how those boys had changed his older cousin, and second, because Hunter knew she would be too.

Paige just had to know: "What did Piper think about all of this – the grandkids stuff?"

The question of Piper and her grandsons always offered up mixed feelings for Hunter. Being among the older children of the Charmed Children, he had choices to make as well. Memory choices, that is; which to embrace as his chosen reality, and which to wave on by like a dream he remembered having as a child.

"Sweetie?" Paige' voice took the whispered, ethereal quality, blending compassion, vulnerability, and concern: three of the things Hunter admired the most about her. "Honey, did I say something? Or are the boys in troub-"

"No, no, Mom, it's not that," said Hunter. His eyes were drawn to the windows; the image of falling snow warmed him. "Mom, do you mind if we sit down?" he asked politely, gesturing towards the sofa.

Paige looked to the window, then back at her child. Blinking was apparently low on her body's list of priorities. "Sure," she said at last. "Should I be scared? You're kinda looking… I dunno."

"Worried?"

"Give or take another ten unpleasant emotions, yeah," said Paige, walking over to sit down.

Hunter's grin threatened to break, but kept just below the surface of his expression. "It's really nothing to worry about, so much," he said. "The only thing that's been worrying me is whether not I should tell you… and I don't mean that the way it probably sounds," he added. "It's something that hope is gonna happen, but…"

The two sat down, near one another. Paige put her hand on top of his. "Well, as it turns out, our family's in the business of makin' stuff happen, so…"

All of a sudden, brilliant blue spheres of light flew into the room – Paige had never seen orbs move at such a speed. By the time they reformed, Paige and Hunter were looking at the back of a young man, looking down into Baby Hunter's crib. "Hey there, big brother!" he said "Gee, something looks different," he added. "Have you lost weight?"

"Ahem!" said Hunter.

It was Henry Junior. Arrow to those who knew him, and also to those who didn't. He pivoted ever so slowly around. From the looks of things, he was not a happy boy, as evidenced by the stray strands straight, bushy hair, and the accusing look in his blue, puppy-love eyes. He pointed accusingly at his big brother. "Yyyyyyou!!!"

Hunter let his head fall on their mom's shoulder. "Ah crud," he said, "What the heck did I do now?"