Cassie the Teenage Witch

by Lady Dawson

He was just about to head out for the day when Perry stuck his head into his office.

"Hey, J.D., there's some girl here to see you."

Grinning, he said, "Is she cute?"

"Absolutely adorable," he answered, "but both of us would probably go to prison for it. Looks about sixteen."

That actually came as somewhat of a relief; his ex kept popping in every so often, just trying to see if they could make it work for the 400th time. J.D. kept telling her 'no,' but somehow, she didn't seem to be getting the message. He'd already put her on the radar at his work, but that was only going to deter her slightly.

Unfortunately, she could just materialize wherever she wanted. That was one of the downsides of his working in the Mortal Realm. But that was one of the very few and the upsides significantly countered all of them.

"I'll be right there."

Scooping up the photos into a pile, J.D. stuck them into a folder so Perry could look over them later, decide which one worked best for the story, before sliding his bag onto his shoulder to head out of his office.

It wasn't hard to spot the girl that Perry mentioned; she was the only teenager there.

And there was something about her . . . J.D. couldn't put his finger on it exactly, but there was something about her that just sent alarm bells up in the back of his head. She looked frazzled, like there was something happening, and her blonde hair was falling out of the ponytail that she had in. She wore a jean jacket and had a bookbag slung over her shoulder with patches stitched into it.

One of them had Stars Hollow Minutemen logo. It took him a brief second to remember why that name sounded familiar, but he and Perry had done a story there years ago. Must have been close to twenty years ago, right when they first got out of college.

The girl, spotted him, didn't waste any time. She walked right through the newsroom, marching right up to him, and said, "Are you Jacob David Charmbridge?"

Rather bemused, he said, "Uh . . . I go by J.D., but yeah, that's me."

The girl looked positively relieved. "Okay, great. I'm Cassie . . . Cassie Gilmore," she added, as though this would mean something to him, but unfortunately, J.D. had never heard that name before in his life. "You knew my mom Lorelai about seventeen years ago?"

Yes, that was right, he remembered. It was December of 1989 when he was doing that story, a year after he graduated from college. Those days, it was hard for him to get a decent photography job, so they all kind of ran together until he and Perry teamed up. As he remembered, that was the first story that landed him a certifiable photography gig.

But he didn't remember . . .

"Lorelai," he repeated the name the girl had said, frowning but after a split second, it came back to him. "Dark hair, blue eyes? She worked at the inn, didn't she?"

"That's her," Cassie said, relieved.

"Yes, yeah, I remember her." And he really remembered her now; Lorelai had been the 'girl' of that particular story. J.D. wasn't exactly settled down back then, nor had he been since then, and dated girls the way that some people changed their pants. Every girl knew the rules, though. It was just for fun and not anything serious and as soon as he left town, it would be over with, no strings attached. "How is she?"

The question, so general in civilized conversation, made the girl turn pale and J.D. watched her eyes dart to all four corners of the room, where there were plenty of reporters and photographers around, and her hands tightened around her backpack.

"Um . . . that's complicated," she said at last. "Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately?" she added meaningfully.

J.D. hesitated, not sure what was happening here.

She seemed to notice his hesitancy because she said with some desperation, "Please. I don't know who else to turn to. I'm in trouble. My mom's in trouble and I think you may be the only person that can help."

Something about how she phrased that alarmed him, but he took one look at her and he knew that she was telling the truth. He couldn't put his finger on what it was about this girl, but she seemed . . . familiar.

Yes, that was it, he thought with growing bewilderment. That was what it was about her. Everything about her just seemed utterly and completely familiar.

"Okay, come on, let's go to my office," he said, changing direction to go back with Cassie in quick pursuit. He barely even needed to wait for her; she was on his heels as soon as he made to open the door, all but bursting into the office herself.

Setting his photography bag back onto his desk, J.D. was about to ask what this was all about, but the words disappeared as she just started closing all the blinds. Not just the ones to his office either, but the ones that were to the outside of the building as well, sending the office into pitch blankness.

Flipping on the desk lamp so they could both see, J.D. demanded, "What on earth are you doing? What is this about?"

"Okay, look," she blurted out, "there is no way to tell you this gently, so I'm just going to rip off the Band-Aid, so to speak. You're my dad."

J.D. froze. "I . . .you . . . what?"

"You, Jacob David Charmbridge, are my father," she said, enunciating every word. "You and my mom Lorelai, seventeen years ago, slept together. December of 1989," she added. "She got pregnant, with me."

It took every ounce of intelligence that J.D. possessed to be able to process this and sputtered rather unintelligently, "I . . . she . . . you're . . ."

"Your daughter," Cassie said fervently. "Or at least, I'm pretty sure, it's not like Lorelai ever came out and said, 'hey, this is your dad,' because apparently, the guy that fathered me didn't want a long term thing, but whatever. I just found some photographs that she hid and tracked you down."

"O . . . kay," J.D. said slowly.

"But something is happening," she blurted out, "and I figure that if you're my dad, then maybe you can explain this or know what's happening."

And she grabbed an empty canister of film off of his desk, setting it down in front of her, and J.D. realized what was happening even before she did it.

She pointed.

Blue sparks flying out of her bitten fingernails, they flew at the canister and instantaneously, it changed form, growing in size and shape, until right where the canister had been sitting seconds ago was a pineapple.

For about thirty seconds, it was all J.D. could do was stare at the pineapple before slowly turning around to look at the trembling girl.

She was so white that the sheet of paper on the supply shelf behind her looked almost brown in comparison and she was clutching the backpack so tightly that her knuckles were the same color as her face. Every inch of her was shaking and she looked like she might pass out at any second.

"Hey, hey," J.D. said, jumping to his feet and rushing over to steady her. "Hey, it's okay, you're okay."

"Please don't lock me up," she whispered. "I don't know what happening, but if this doesn't mean anything, can we just pretend this is a bad dream?"

J.D., without thinking, just reached out for the frightened girl, drawing her into his arms comfortingly, all the while processing the fact that he had a daughter. He had a teenage daughter who, up until the moment, had no idea of her heritage.

"You just turned sixteen, didn't you?"

She pulled away just enough to look at him. "I . . . yes. Yesterday."

"Okay, that's—that's normal," he said reassuringly. "Look, I can explain all of this, but there's a lot for you to know."

"I did something, though," she blurted out. "And if you know what's happening, maybe you can help me undo it. I did something to my mom . . ."

"Your . . ." Oh, shit, he thought, realizing. Lorelai wasn't a witch. She was mortal. And if her daughter was a witch that had just come into her powers, that meant—

Cassie, tearstained and almost hysterical, finally opened up the backpack that she had been holding on to the whole time that she had been in his office, unzipping it and showing him what was inside.

A ball of wax.

"Please, please, tell me that we can fix this . . ."

J.D. didn't know what to say. As soon as he saw the ball of wax, it had taken him all of half a second to dematerialize them both out of there, zapping them, along with Cassie's backpack, to his penthouse. Someone was bound to ask questions later about when he left, but he couldn't worry about that right now.

He had to worry about the teenage girl in front of him, the daughter that he hadn't even known existed for sixteen years.

As soon as they arrived at his apartment, J.D. had sat her down and told her everything. That he was a witch, that she was a witch, and because she had turned sixteen, that was why all of these weird stuff was happening.

She took it rather well.

But her question meant that he had to explain the other part, J.D. thought unhappily, pouring himself a generous cup of coffee before sitting down at the island with her.

"Cassie, I'm not sure that we can reverse this . . ."

"Why not?" She looked about to cry again. "You're a witch too so why can't you fix it?"

"Because this isn't something that you did," J.D. said carefully, running his hands over his face. He didn't know how to explain all of this, but he had to. This was his daughter and he had a responsibility to her.

Looking up from the backpack, Cassie asked unsurely, "I didn't? But . . ."

"Look, what you need to understand is that there are two realms: the mortal realm and the magical ream," he told her. "Now, your mom is part of the mortal realm and I am part of the magical one. Now, just like in the mortal realm, there is a hierarchy, people in charge that make all the rules."

"Like a president or a king?"

"President," he said, glad she was asking questions. "But there is also a council that oversees most of the everyday matters. The Witches Council."

"And this . . . Witches Council makes the rules?"

"Exactly," he said. "One of their biggest . . . pet peeves, I guess, is when witches and mortals get together." She stared blankly at him. "They don't particularly like the two realms mixing together. I mean, they can't stop it, but they can discourage it."

"Discourage it how?"

"Most witches have their powers all their life; they're born with them. But for witches like you, that are half-mortal, they only get their powers when they turn sixteen. In order to discourage witches from having children with mortals, when a half-mortal witch comes into his or her powers, they're forbidden contact with their mortal parent."

It took Cassie a full minute to comprehend all of this, but her blue eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

"And . . . what happens when they do?"

J.D. winced but gestured to the ball of wax sitting between them. "This happens."

She stared at him and then at what remained of her mother, her lower lip trembling. "But . . . I didn't know."

"I know you didn't," J.D. said gently, moving around to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "and I am going to make that very clear to the Council when I go talk to them."

Her head shot up. "They can fix this?"

"Maybe," he admitted, but really, he didn't like the chances. "If they're willing. Unfortunately, the Council is made up of a bunch of stuffy old codgers that aren't exactly inclined to change their mind. They have only overturned one case like this and that was over two hundred years ago."

Cassie swallowed. "So, the odds aren't in our favor?"

"No," he said, "but that does not mean I'm not going to try. But Cassie, I want you to understand what happens here. Even if I can get the Council to overturn this, even if they are willing to turn your mom back into a human, that doesn't mean that anything else would change. The rules would still apply. And if you ever set eyes on your mother again . . ."

"She would turn back into this," Cassie whispered, hands going to her mouth.

J.D. nodded.

"Yeah, she would."

"Well . . . I mean, how am I supposed to not look at her? We live in the same house, I go to school in the same town where she works! And don't even get me started on Friday night dinners—I sit right across from her. How am I supposed to eat dinner with her if . . ." Cassie trailed off, eyes moving away from him to look at the ball of wax again with growing realization. "Oh, god, I can't live with her, can I?"

"Hey, let's not worry about that right now," J.D. told her. "Let's worry about getting your mom back; we can worry about everything else later."

Cassie nodded rapidly, but he could see she was getting overwhelmed again. Not that he could blame her; in the course of one day, she had found out that she wasn't who she thought that she was, that she had magical powers, had found her father and had to tell him that he had a daughter, and had unintentionally turned her mother into wax.

That would be a lot for anyone, never mind a sixteen-year-old.

"Okay," she whispered, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "So . . . then where is this Council? How do we get there?"

"It's about ten million light years away," he answered, smiling at her crestfallen look, "but there's a shortcut through the linen closet."

Cassie stared at him. "Uh . . . give me a clue as to whether you're kidding or not?"

"I'm not kidding," he said.

"Good clue."

"Come on," he said, standing up and picking up Cassie's backpack. "If we want to get this fixed, we better get moving. And knowing the Council, this is probably the best time to talk to them—it's right after the holidays."

As he had pretty much predicted, the Council was not particularly keen on changing Lorelai back, even after he explained the situation. To them, the life of his daughter's mother was meaningless and she was nothing more than another mortal that just happened to birth a witch. This was not the first time that J.D. had wanted to bang his head through the nearest wall when dealing with the Council.

It took him three days of begging, pleading, and Cassie, desperate to do anything to save her mother, even offered to trade places with her. The Council still didn't go for it, but they reluctantly allowed the situation to be reversed. On one condition, however, they warned: most half-mortals could talk to their mortal parent, either by phone or letters, but Cassie could not even do that.

She would not be allowed even the smallest form of contact for the rest of her life.

J.D. could see from the look on her face that this was the last thing that she wanted to do, but there was little option: it was either this or her mother would remain a ball of wax for the rest of her days.

"Okay," she whispered.

The Council member closest to them cleared her throat pointedly. "We need your verbal confirmation, Miss Charmbridge," she said, ignoring the fact that Cassie had her mother's surname. "You need to state your name and your vow, for the record."

Cassie swallowed, ocean blue eyes filling with tears as she took a step forward.

"I," she whispered, "Cassandra Victoria Gilmore—"

"Charmbridge," J.D. whispered to her, knowing the vow wouldn't hold to the Council if she used her mortal mother's name.

"Charmbridge," Cassie repeated, her voice catching with every word, "swear that I will forfeit all contact with my mother, in exchange for her being returned to human form."

Her lower lip trembled upon completion and J.D. squeezed her shoulder tightly, silently telling her that she did good. This wasn't the ideal solution, but it was the best that any of them could hope for.

Sighing, the Council member said gravely, "So be it. Turn around, girl, unless you want her to return to this."

Cassie immediately turned, closing her eyes as the Council, moving as one, pointed to the backpack that was sitting in the chair.

Almost instantly, the backpack began to glow and J.D. watched as the ball of wax slowly changed shape, growing in size, until a woman with dark hair and the blue eyes that he remembered all too well stood before him. It didn't escape his notice just how little she resembled their daughter.

Lorelai looked dazed and her gaze traveled around the Council chambers, becoming more bewildered by the minute, before she found him, standing next to Cassie and then her blue eyes sharpened.

"J.D.?"

He swallowed. "Lorelai."

Her eyes shifted to the crying girl next to him that was so tense and rigid next to him, fighting every instinct to turn around and rush at her mother, to reassure herself that she was indeed in human form.

"Cassie?" she said sharply. "What is going on?"

"This session is now over," the Council member said flatly, clearly not sympathetic at all about the family drama that was unfolding. "Cassandra Charmbridge, you have made your vow and will be expected to uphold it. No contact with the mortal parent will be allowed, from this moment forward."

"We understand," J.D. said, covering his daughter's eyes with one hand and grabbing Lorelai's hand with the other. "We're leaving."

One flash of lightning later and all three of them were stumbling back into his penthouse, but J.D. didn't take any chances that something might go wrong. The second that their feet touched hardwood floors, he said, "Cassie, stay here," and zapped himself and Lorelai back to her house.

Almost the second that they landed, Lorelai stumbled away from him, face turning whiter than a sheet of paper, and she grabbed hold of the kitchen counter to steady herself. He just stood there, waiting for her to regain her composure.

"What is going on?" she demanded, breathing unevenly. "Where is my daughter?"

"Safe and that's what's important," he told her.

She rounded on him, furious. "You kidnapped her!"

"No—well, I guess technically, but that's not what is happening here. I can explain everything, because you deserve to know what's happening here, but I think you should sit down before I do. Because trust me," he sighed, "this explanation is not a simple one."

Oddly enough, Lorelai took it worse than Cassie had. She had shouted, screamed, and raged so loudly that J.D. wouldn't have been surprised if the neighbors didn't come banging.

In the end, he was forced to show her some magic to get her to believe it and even thing, she sat there in dead silence for almost an hour before she said, "I will fight you on this—"

"Not if you want to remain human, you won't," J.D. said heavily. "Lorelai, I honestly wish I could change this, but the Council's rule was absolute. The only reason why you were changed back was because Cassie made that vow to never have contact with you again. If not for that, you would still be a ball of wax." He watched her for a long moment, as Lorelai took another swig of the coffee mug that she'd already had three cups of. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her head snapped up. "What?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he repeated. That was the biggest part of this puzzle that he couldn't make sense of. "It's been sixteen years, Lorelai. I still work at the same paper that I did when you and I were together, you knew my name . . . why didn't you contact me?"

She was quiet for a long moment before she said, "You made it pretty clear back then that you weren't in this for the long run. It was just a weekend. I didn't think that . . ."

"Didn't think what?"

"You would give a damn. Some random girl that you spent a few days with ends up pregnant with your kid? You can't tell me that you wouldn't have been around."

"Yes, I damn well would have!" J.D. snapped, suddenly angry. "You think that just because we only had a few days together, that would've turned me away had you come to me then? I know that I don't do long-term relationships—that's why I make damn well sure that whoever I'm sleeping with knows that. But that doesn't mean that I wouldn't have taken responsibility!" J.D. ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm down. "Hell, if I'd known about her even a year ago, we could have sat down and talked about all this!"

Lorelai just stared at him. "I didn't know that."

"You didn't give me a chance to let you know that."

She swallowed. "So, that's it? You just take her and I never get to see my daughter again?"

J.D. sighed. "If I could do something about that, I would. But even if you had told me and Cassie could've turned sixteen, knowing what was going to happen, you still wouldn't be able to see her. But because I didn't and Cassie didn't know what would happen, she had to promise never to contact you again. And that is not something that the Council will ever overturn, I guarantee that."

"So I never get to see my daughter again because of . . . some council that's part of some . . . other realm that I have nothing to do with?"

"You have nothing to do with it," J.D. agreed, "but Cassie is a witch. Our daughter is a witch, Lorelai, and nothing will ever change that. She was always going to end up being one, because that is her heritage." He was quiet for a long moment before he said quietly, "She has my eyes."

"She has your everything," Lorelai grumbled. "Believe me, you have no idea how hard it was to look at that girl, only to be reminded of someone that you'd rather forget." Her hands tightened around the coffee mug again before letting go. "What am I supposed to tell people? What about Rory? Am I just supposed to tell her that her sister isn't allowed around me anymore? And my parents?"

J.D. swallowed; he hadn't realized that Cassie had a sister. That made things more difficult and worse, somehow.

"I guess the best way would be the truth," he said heavily. Lorelai looked at him like he was crazy. "Well, most of it, anyway. Cassie tracked me down and we all agreed that she should come and live with me, so we can get to know each other. I'll quit my job and move back to the Other Realm, so we can just tell them that I live in another country. Nobody would ask too many questions about that."

"You don't know my parents."

"Can't be worse than mine."

"Oh, yeah? The term overbearing doesn't even begin to describe my mother."

"Mine was responsible for Pompeii."

Lorelai blinked, staring incredulously at him.

"Okay. You win."

J.D. almost thought that Cassie had taken off when he rematerialized back into his apartment, but a second glance reassured him that she hadn't gone anywhere; she was curled up on the balcony, just staring off into the cityscape.

Briefly, he wondered how long she had been sitting out there, but decided against asking her that. Poor kid had been through an emotional turmoil today and the last thing that she needed was him pestering her. And it wasn't like he had neighbors that would ask questions—one of the benefits of being on the penthouse suite. There was no nosy neighbors to ask too many questions.

Easing the slide open, J.D. walked over to the couch she was curled up on, taking the seat next to her.

She didn't look at him and he got the distinct impression she was trying to hide the fact that she had been crying, but he had two older sisters. He had seen enough growing up to know when girls had been bawling their eyes out. And he couldn't blame her. Everything that happened today, she had earned herself a good cry. J.D. just hoped that she didn't hate him for everything, that she would resent him.

Because the last thing he wanted was for his daughter to hate him.

J.D. had been a stereotypical playboy, never settling into anything long-term or even too serious. Indeed, the only long term girlfriend that he'd had was about three months and that had been back in college. He figured that he didn't need to worry about settling down; he had centuries to go before putting down roots. His own parents hadn't been married until they were well into their 300s and he was their last child. There was a good five hundred years difference between him and his oldest sister.

But that didn't mean that he hadn't occasionally thought of children and had wanted to have some someday.

He just didn't expect someday to come so soon.

That didn't mean that he was just going to turn his back on her, though. Now that he knew that she existed, now that he knew that she was real and not some figmented possibility in the future child, J.D. didn't want to lose any more time than he had.

There was already so much that he had missed and he didn't want to miss anything else.

"Is she okay?"

J.D. sighed deeply, watching his daughter that so resembled him out of the corner of the eye as he followed her gaze off into the distance.

"She's all right," he assured her and that was true. When he left Lorelai, she had been as well as she could be, under the circumstances. They had talked for hours, until she finally accepted that this was how it had to be. J.D. didn't like it any more than she did. He never had any intention of separating his child from her mother, but he also had no choice. "Drinking her way through all the coffee in the tristate when I left."

The corner of Cassie's mouth twitched as she commented, "Yeah, well, she's ten percent water, ninety percent caffeine."

He snorted, but if that wasn't an apt description of the Lorelai Gilmore that he had met all those years ago, he didn't know what was. They had only spent three days together and they had created something incredible during those days. And now, it was up to him to make sure that what they had created would be all right.

"Listen, Cassie—"

"Look, it's fine," she blurted out before he could figure out what he was going to say, "I get it, all right? You don't have to pretend that I didn't come along and mess everything up. So, I—I'll figure something out and you won't have to see me anymore."

Her speech, trembling and unsteady as it was, was filled with conviction and she was already standing up, halfway to the front door before he had a chance to stop her, but J.D. scrambled to his feet, moving after her.

"And where are you going to go?"

Cassie stopped dead in her tracks, but turned around to look at him, face set it stone.

"I don't know, but I'll figure something out."

"Okay, what?"

She blinked, obviously confused, and shrugged.

"I don't know yet. I'll get a job, get an apartment . . ."

He sighed. "And what about school?"

"I'll get my GED."

"College?"

"I'll save up, earn my way."

"And if your magic starts acting up?"

Cassie paused in her conviction, hesitation crossing her face. "I'll—I'll deal with it. Now that I know what's going on, I can control it."

"What if you can't, though? Cassie, you just got these powers and they are extremely unpredictable when it comes to new witches. Trust me what I say this, the better plan is for you to just stay here and I can help you."

She stared at him. "Why? It's not like . . ."

"Not like what?" he asked when she didn't continue, noticing that her eyes shifted away from him, staring determinedly at a spot on the floor. He was surprised that she didn't burn a hole into it, that was how hard she was looking at it. "Cassie, not like what?"

Lip quivering slightly, she stuck her chin out determinedly and it seemed to take all of her willpower to look him directly in the eye.

"It's not like you wanted me."

J.D. couldn't believe his ears. "Is that what you think? Kid, listen to me," he sighed when she didn't immediately respond. "Yes, this was a big shock but that is only because I didn't have the slight idea that you existed. Believe me, if I had known about you, I would have moved to Stars Hollow just so I could be around you. Your mom didn't tell me about you."

"But I was just a mistake . . ."

He frowned at her wording. "You are the furthest thing from a mistake. Look," he said, pulling her away from the door and sitting her down in the living room, "I know that all of this has been really overwhelming and this is not how this is supposed to go. You should be celebrating your sixteenth birthday and not having to deal with the fact that you can't see or talk to your mom again and talking to a perfect stranger that just happens to be your father. But I can't change that. All I can do is be your dad from here on out."

"But . . ." Cassie honestly looked bewildered. "What does that mean?"

"Well, I guess to start it means that you live with me and I will be there for you, in any way that I can."

"I . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know what it is to have a dad."

J.D. considered this. From what little he had been able to gather, it had just been Cassie, her mom, and her sister her whole life. There had been very little male interaction, save for any boyfriends that Lorelai might've had over the years. She probably didn't have any idea what it was to have a father-like figure in her life.

"Well, that's all right," he said gently, "I don't know what it is to have a daughter. We can figure it out together."

And just like that, he became the single father to a sixteen-year-old teenage girl.

A sixteen-year-old teenage witch.

AN: Okay, as some of you may have figured out, this is sort a crossover with Gilmore Girls, but since the GGs are only slightly in it, I did not put it in the crossover section. It may only be a one-shot anyway, so I'll only give it some more chapters if I get enough interest. But I hope you liked it and I hope you let me know in the reviews!