The Punishment "Freak!" Fifteen-year-old Philippa Newland's mouth tightened in a frown, as she walked away from the taunts of Lindsay Barnett. "Don't you walk away from me, Newland." demanded her blond-haired classmate. Philippa continued to walk across the schoolyard. Lindsay followed after her taunting her. The dark-headed girl made no response as she turned the corner, but her green-grey eyes glinted with anger, and something else: frustration. Right at that moment, Philippa was wishing what every victim of any bully ever wished. That her tormentor would just go far, far away. The difference was that Philippa could make it happen. She was a witch. Just like me, her mother, her aunts, and her cousins - Prue's twins, Renae and Rhianna and her Aunt Piper's daughter, Melinda. Each one of them had a different power. In fact, the only members of the family who didn't have powers were Prue's husband Darryl, their son Andrew; and Leo and Piper's boy, Brian. Nevertheless even they had some measure of magic, as both Andrew and Brian were immune to the powers of their relatives. Philippa had inherited her power of Summoning and Banishing from me. It allowed her to bring objects to her and/or, send them far away at will. But doing it just because you wanted to teach a bully a lesson was against all the rules. It was called Personal Gain and had a nasty habit of resulting in unpleasant, unasked for consequences. Much as it annoyed her, it meant Lindsay Barnett's redemption would have to wait … again. Becoming annoyed at the lack of response from her intended victim, Lindsay grew careless and made a mistake. Catching up to the retreating Philippa, Lindsay placed a hand on her shoulder pulling her round. Philippa turned faster than Lindsay pulled, her hand reaching out to grab the wrist on her shoulder. In a continuation of the move, Philippa twisted Lindsay's arm behind her back turning her attacker's body so that Lindsay had her back to her. The blonde kicked back, trying to disable her intended victim, but as she went for the kick, Philippa brought off a side kick that took Lindsay's other leg right from underneath her, dumping her on the ground, forcing the arm up her back into a full nelson. The blonde screamed in pain. "Don't you ever learn, Barnett?" came the voice of Mr. Summers as he walked across the yard. Turning to Philippa he smiled, "Your mother's still teaching you the Tae Kwondo I see." Then the smile disappeared as he ordered, "Help Miss Barnett up please Miss Newland. Now." Philippa let go of her attacker's arm, and then reached down to take Lindsay's hand. Reluctantly, the blonde took her hand and with surprising strength, Philippa pulled her to her feet. She was about to let go when a jolt of electricity seemed to slam into her and she was thrown into a premonition, the second power of Philippa's, inherited from her mother. Lindsay, talking to her friends. By the road outside the school. Lindsay waving, and starting to cross the street, still looking back at her friends. A car that Lindsay never sees. Hitting her. Philippa came out of the vision and released Lindsay's hand. Like Phoebe, she now had her power of premonition largely under control but it was the most ungovernable of any power, and Philippa and her mother never knew when they'd be a hit by a sudden flash. As always the first moments after a vision caused some disorientation, so she never heard Mr. Summers telling Lindsay that she'd escaped a detention this time only because she'd been punished enough with everyone just having seen her humiliating defeat. From what seemed a long way away, Philippa heard the school bell ringing, and then everything came sharply into focus with Mr. Summers finishing his reprimand, "…get to class." * * * The bell rang at the end of final period, and the usual mad rush to get out of school began. Walking out of the gate, Philippa saw Lindsay in conversation with her friends. She turned, waving and looking at her friends and started to walk away. Philippa knew all she had to do was call Lindsay's name and the girl would stop, look around to see who had shouted, and the car would harmlessly zoom by. But Philippa didn't say a word. Still waving, Lindsay stepped into the road, straight in front of a black car, giving the driver no time to stop or Lindsay any time to scream. The car hit Lindsay, throwing her on to the hood. As the onlooking children screamed, her limp body rolled off and landed unmoving onto the tarmac. Philippa stared in horror as her premonition unfolded before her eyes. She looked around. In her imagination she thought she saw every eye looking at her, accusing her. Dropping her gaze to avoid the seemingly reproachful glares, she quickly turned and walked away. Phoebe heard her daughter enter the house, and instantly knew something was wrong. The two shared an empathic link, they couldn't read each other's minds but Philippa and Phoebe could sense each other's moods. As a teenage girl, Philippa often found this trait most annoying as it enabled her mother to tell whether or not she was being entirely honest. Stealthily, Philippa headed up to her room to get changed out of the clothes she'd worn to school. She groaned inwardly as she heard a knock at the door. "Come in. Mom" she called, resignedly. Opening the door, Phoebe walked in, "It's not like you just to sneak upstairs," she began. "What's happened?" "Nothing," said Philippa a little too quickly. "Just going out with some friends and I have to be ready in half an hour." Phoebe frowned, "Now that you're older, you can sometimes fool me, but not when you're really worried about something.," she told her daughter. "The more upset you are, the stronger the feelings through the link. And right now you're projecting so much that I'm having trouble staying vertical!" Philippa sat down on her bed, unable to meet her mother's eyes. Phoebe crossed the room to join her on the bed and give her troubled daughter a hug. Gently stroking Philippa's dark slightly curled shoulder length hair, she waited for her daughter to open up. As mother and daughter sat together, the resemblance between the two was striking. Although her mother disagreed, I always thought it was lucky for her that most of Philippa's looks came from her mother's side of the family. The two sat in silence until finally it was all too much for the fifteen year-old. Bursting into tears she cried, "Oh Mom, I've done something terrible." Downstairs, in the study, I was working on my latest book. When Philippa was young, I used to entertain her by writing stories and reading them to her at bedtime. I began working as an author when at the behest of a friend, I'd submitted one of Philippa's bedtime stories to a publisher. Amazingly, I'd ended up with a bestseller and a contract for two more, which had been equally successful. Then two years later, with all of the success, I hardly had to be coaxed to give up my day job, and start writing full time. Suddenly my eye caught a flash of blue and white light. Looking up I smiled and greeted the visitor. "Hi Leo. Nice of you to orb in." "Hello Liam," responded my brother-in-law grimly. "I'm afraid it's business." "With me?" Being family to the Charmed Ones meant that I saw more than my fair share of evil, but it also meant that Leo's warnings of the end of the world … yet again, were usually delivered to one of the sisters. "Look, if it's an Incubus, find another witch. Those high heels were murder, and my hair was a mess. Split ends…" Leo interrupted my complaints. "Liam, it's not you, and it's not a demon. It's Philippa!" * * * "Dad," came Philippa's voice, as she slowly entered the study with her mother behind her, "I've got something to tell you, and you're not going to like it." Then noticing Leo, she greeted, "Oh, Hi Uncle Leo." After greeting her brother-in-law as well, Phoebe asked, "No offence, Leo, but can Philippa & I talk to Liam alone?" I sighed, "I already know what you're going to say. So does Leo. He told me. And the Elders told him." Philippa's face, if possible, dropped even more, "Leo, is this really necessary?" I asked, looking at my daughter's wretched guilt-ridden expression. "I mean look at her, she's already punishing herself." Leo shrugged, "There's nothing I can do about it. They ordered me to bring Philippa before them." "Dad, what's going on?" Gently I told my daughter, "The Elders have taken a very dim view of you deliberately not acting on your premonition. Personally, I think you just made a dumb teenage mistake. A big one, but we're all entitled to at least one. And Lindsay Barnett has been ragging you for years. I can't honestly say that I would have saved Jagan Peters, if I'd had powers at your age." I told my daughter, referring to my own childhood nemesis. "But I can see their point. You took advantage of your power to take revenge. It's the worst type of personal gain, because it affects other people. Predicting the lottery," here I threw a pointed look at Phoebe, "Only affects you, but in this case you put Lindsay in hospital. They want to see you." "How bad is Lindsay?" enquired Philippa, looking at Leo. "She was lucky," he replied, "Non-serious head trauma, left leg broken in several places and a clean break on the arm. She's in pain, but she'll recover good as new." "Thank God," breathed Philippa. "What'll they do to me?" "I don't know. But the sooner we go, the sooner we'll find out. Grab on." Philippa hugged her uncle, who winked at his niece. Leo looked skywards and both he and Philippa disappeared in a myriad and blue and white dancing lights. They were back an hour later. Philippa was in tears, more upset than I'd ever seen her. She had barely materialized, before she ran to her mother. Phoebe helplessly enfolded her weeping daughter in her arms and I crossed the room to join the hug, stroking Philippa's dark hair. Turning to Leo, I demanded angrily, "What the hell did they do to her?" Leo looked grim. "They read her the riot act. And more." Leo looked at the ground, unable to look at us. "I argued and pleaded for them to change their minds, but they were adamant. They've … suspended her powers." * * * Philippa was walking home from the mall where she'd had a great time just hanging out with her friends. It was about a week since she'd lost her powers. It'd been difficult for her at first. Having had them since she was baby, she, like her cousins, tended to use them in everyday life, something the adults in the family, who'd gained all their powers later on tended not to do. It was disconcerting to point at something, expecting it to arrive in your hand, and get nothing. Even more annoying was having to walk everywhere. The power of banishing included the ability to banish yourself, making the power a handy way to get around, but gradually Philippa had gotten used to the change--and the aching feet. She walked through the park on her way home. It was early evening and the park was largely empty. Suddenly, a tall man with blonde hair, blinked in right in front of her, hands reaching out to grab the teenager. Philippa pivoted gracefully, her other leg coming up as she spun around to deliver a murderous roundhouse kick that knocked the attacker onto his back. Taking to her heels, she ran through the park. She'd almost reached the gates when of their volition, they slammed shut, the bolts driving themselves into the ground. Then, in front of them, his jaw carrying a bruise where Philippa's foot had landed, the warlock appeared, his unpleasant features molded into an evil smile. Philippa's mouth tightened. She couldn't run. "Damn it, why did this have to happen now?" Then Philippa allowed herself a slight smile. She may not have her powers but she was still a witch and she knew a certain incantation that should wipe the grin, amongst other things, right off Smiler's face. "Powers of Light Hear my plea Vanquish this evil And let me …" One word from the end, Philippa felt a searing pain and the next thing she knew she was on the ground, the world spinning above her. She tried to get up but as she did so, she was hit by a fierce wave of dizziness and nausea, and collapsed back onto the ground. Through the haze, Philippa saw the warlock grinning wickedly above her. The early evening sun glinted off of the long-bladed dagger held in his hand as he thrust it down toward her heart. * * * At home, Pheebs and I were in the kitchen drinking coffee, talking about what we called the "Early Edition." Named after the TV show, it was her ability to meditate once daily, calling a premonition that would warn us of anything happening that day. Today she'd not seen anything, which should mean everything was fine, but Phoebe couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. "It's really bugging me, Liam, " she told me, "It was as if I started to see something and then it got cut off." "You're probably worrying about Philippa," I remarked thoughtfully. "I think you're just being an oversensitive mother, looking for trouble where there isn't any." Phoebe smiled back, raising her tea to her lips and replied, "You're probably right." Then she stopped, the mug halfway to her lips. She lowered the cup on to the table and looked up at me, her voice urgent, "Philippa's virtually screaming on the link. Liam, she's in big trouble!" Another aspect of the Summoning and Banishing power was the ability to seek out an object, place, or person, that I wanted to affect with my power. Using it now, I instantly located my daughter. Turning to Phoebe I said, "Found her. Grab on." Phoebe took my hand and I banished us both to the park. We materialized behind the warlock, who was kneeling at my stricken daughter's side, the knife deep in her breast. He was muttering to her stricken face, "The powers! Where are they? Come on bitch, give them to me!" "You want power?" The warlock turned at the chilling voice and stared up into the eyes of Phoebe Newland. The usual mischievous glint they held was gone and Philippa's attacker stared into twin pools of oblivion. The normal Phoebe had vanished, replaced by Phoebe the Charmed One, one third of the awesome Power of Three, and in her own right one of the most powerful witches ever to walk the earth. Almost gently, she placed her hands on his head and closed her eyes. The warlock stiffened as if he'd been electrocuted. Phoebe was Blitzing him. It was an aspect of her power of Premonition that she had discovered when her power grew. Somehow Phoebe was able to make people relive over and over within a matter of seconds the worst moments of their life, knocking them unconscious, and if she wished, even killing them. It was the one power Phoebe wouldn't object to not having. The price of using other people's nightmares against them was having to experience them herself. She rarely used it, and never to it's full potential. Until now. Phoebe held onto the warlock, his body shaking ever more violently, as the warlock silently screamed in horror. Then the warlock stopped shaking and Phoebe opened her eyes. She released her grasp, a dead warlock falling from her hand, his body slumping limply to the ground. I stood transfixed, never before having seen my wife use all of her power. I was yanked out of my stupor by those icy tones, when without looking round, Phoebe snapped, "Stop staring at the back of my head and help Philippa." Kneeling beside my daughter, a massive bloodstain soaking her clothes, I felt for a pulse. With relief I found one but it was faint, very faint. Picking up my daughter's limp form, I banished us both to the hospital. After bringing me back to reality, Phoebe looked down at the ex-warlock, pronouncing some complicated words of power with practiced ease. Instantly the body burst into flame incinerating itself into nothing. That done, she ran to where she knew I'd have gone. San Francisco General, which lay just outside the park. * * * We were all at the hospital, except for Darryl who'd already started putting into the place the usual cover up. Nice for the Charmed Ones, his promotion to Captain had made this a much easier task. This time the story would be a random knife attack on a young female, who'd arranged to meet her parents in the park. My turning up with her at the ER rather than just calling an ambulance was put down as the panicked reaction of a parent. We waited anxiously for news of Philippa, who was in the OR undergoing emergency surgery. Prue paced the waiting room, worried sick. Aside from Phoebe and myself, she was closer to Philippa than anyone. Prue hated the feeling of helplessness, as despite all of her supernatural powers, she was forced to wait and hear the fate of her favourite niece. Piper was comforting Phoebe, holding her little sister in her arms, and stroking her long dark hair. Piper had always been Phoebe's safe haven, the shelter she would run to whenever she was at her most vulnerable. Phoebe had never been the most self-controlled person, and now the backlash from holding on to her emotions as she faced the warlock, with her daughter dying below her hit her with full force. I hate hospital waiting rooms. Sitting there helpless to do anything, suddenly the oppressive, gloom-laden atmosphere was too much. I'd been mulling the attack over in my mind and certain things were beginning to bring me to some unpleasant conclusions. I needed some air, and I needed something to do. I crossed to Leo, who was standing apart from us, almost as if he felt this was his fault. "Leo, I need some air. Wanna help me get some coffee?" Outside the waiting room I turned to my whitelighter brother-in-law. "This ain't your fault Leo. You tried to fight it." I frowned, "But something doesn't add up here. I think your bosses have some explaining to do." Meeting my gaze, Leo answered, "Me too! Need a lift?" I grabbed Leo's shoulder and together we orbed out of the empty hallway. We reappeared in what could only be described as white space. It wasn't even a room, just an endless expanse of whiteness. After looking at it for long enough you began to imagine that you could see not shades but distinct colours, as if there existed a whole spectrum of white. From the distance, a figure emerged. He was tall with black hair and wore a long white robe. Softly Leo whispered, "That's Michael, head of the Elders." Michael stared at Leo, and then his gaze raked me. "Leo. Why are you here?" he demanded. "We did not call you. And who is it you have brought with you." Respectfully, Leo answered, "Michael this is Liam, the father of the child the Elders recently … disciplined." "And what of it?" asked the Elder dismissively. "What of it?" I bristled angrily, "I'll tell you what! My daughter is lying on the operating table at San Francisco General, stabbed through the heart by a warlock. One that normally she could have vanquished solo without even breathing hard." "That is ... unfortunate," replied Michael emotionlessly, calmly. I lost it then. Furiously I tore into the figure standing before me, "Unfortunate? You stand there and tell me that a warlock almost killing my daughter is unfortunate! You're the ones who took her powers so you had a responsibility to make sure she wasn't harmed. Why in hell didn't you assign Leo or another whitelighter to watch over her in case something happened? Which it bloody did!" Michael didn't reply. Instead he just dropped his gaze, not meeting my eyes. For what must have been over two minutes, although time seemed to stretch in that place, there was silence. Then Leo spoke, his voice filled with disbelief, "Liam. They set her up! They blocked Phoebe's vision, and then let him attack her so she'd suffer the same as Lindsay." He turned on the leader to demand in an accusatory voice, "Didn't you?" "This is insubordination, Leo." Michael replied in a cold, detached tone. "You lost your wings once. Lose them again and you will not regain them." Leo eyes burned with anger. He started to say something and I knew whatever it was would finish his days as a whitelighter. "Leo, they ain't worth it. Hang on to your wings." Staring contemptuously at Michael, I finished, "That way there will be at least one decent whitelighter. Just get us out of here." Leo nodded, placed his hand on my shoulder and orbed once more. * * * Philippa was going to be just fine. The operation had been a complete success and she'd even been well enough to receive a visit from her parents and aunts. Nevertheless she'd been badly hurt and would be in the hospital for a while. As we left, the doctor gave her some medication for the pain and to help her sleep. Philippa closed her eyes and slept peacefully and calmly. Peace and calm may have reigned at the hospital, but not at Halliwell Manor when Leo and I told the family our news. Darryl swore, the first time I'd ever heard him use a profanity. Prue was livid, "Those sons of bitches," she ranted furiously, "We oughta go up there and blast them. Give them a taste of what they did to Philippa." "You mean like they gave Philippa a taste of what she did to Lindsay," said Piper, ever the rational one. Hotly Phoebe accused, "I don't believe you're siding with…" "Phoebe. I'm not!" interrupted Piper just as hotly. "What they did was barbaric, medieval almost, and totally wrong." More calmly she continued, "But if we go blasting them with the Power of Three, it makes us exactly the same." Prue and Phoebe dropped their gazes, looking at their feet, as if Grams had just reprimanded them for being late for dinner. Finally Prue looked up and smiled weakly, "That's our Piper. Always seeing the big picture." "Well someone has to," agreed the middle sibling. "Piper's right. We can't just take revenge," sighed Phoebe. "That's what this mess is all about. But it just grates so much that my daughter gets to spend the next week in a hospital-bed, and they get to sleep comfortably in their…what'd you call it…white expanse of nothing." "And they can do it again. But next time the victim's mother might not have an empathic link" I pointed out. "Hell, who knows, they may have done it before." "So do something about it already," said Darryl, who'd been listening to the exchange, and now spoke for the first time. "You're witches. The Charmed Ones." "But this isn't a demon or a warlock. These are the supposed good guys." Piper gave the words a sarcastic spin. "The sixty four million dollar question is what can we possibly do?" "Well, I'm resigning." Every eye turned to Leo. He looked at me. "I know what you said Liam, but I can't work for them. Not after this. And I don't see a change of management coming on anytime soon." "I thought that about the management at Bucklands," commented Prue quietly. "A year later they were out in the fraud scandal. And I became the boss." "What's that got to with anything?" I asked. "Nothing. Nothing at all." replied Prue. But the look on her face told she lied. Prue had a plan, but wasn't ready to tell us yet. "Sisters. Attic. If you please." Half an hour later they came down. Quietly Prue began, "We've got a plan. It's radical and whatever happens it'll have…" Prue paused, looking for the right word. "Consequences. For all of us." Piper continued for her sister, "Phoebe and I are willing to risk it. But we need know if you guys are." Sitting down in front of his wife, and the rest of the Charmed Ones, Darryl spoke up, "So tell us the plan." * * * A golden light formed in the blank whiteness of the Hall of Elders. From it stepped the three former Halliwell women: Prudence Morris, Piper Wyatt and Phoebe Newland. As the light faded, a manifestation of the travel spell they'd cast moments ago in Halliwell Manor's attic, Leo orbed in to stand beside them. The Charmed Ones' sudden arrival caused quite a stir in the Hall. From the distance, Michael stepped forward but he was not alone. Flanking him were five others. "It's all of them," breathed Leo. "Normally, you'd only see Michael." "Looks like we made an impression," quipped Phoebe grimly. Composing themselves, the three witches waited for Michael to make the first move. There was a pause, but finally he spoke, "No doubt you are here about your injured family member." "It's certainly in connection with that," answered Prue, "But that's not the whole reason. We're here as employees really." That threw Michel for a loop. "Employees?" "Well, in a way we are," explained Piper. "You tell us about a problem and then we take care of it. So in all fairness, we work for you." "Sorta like the supernatural CIA," came Phoebe's sardonic tones. "Complete with the corrupt management." Then seemingly changing the subject she asked, "How long have you been the Elders?" One of the Elders flanking Michael answered haughtily, "Since the beginning. For are we not also called the Founders?" "Informative." If the word had been a cake, the icing would have been made of sarcasm. Turning her head Phoebe asked, "Leo?" "About 1500 years," replied Leo, stifling a grin at my wife's performance. With a slight grin at her younger sister, Piper continued, "Pheebs' CIA crack was more accurate than we thought." "Yeah," agreed Prue. "Bosses who are a law unto themselves, and hang on long after they should have retired. So we've decided to stage what you might call an employee buyout." Prue's voice, which had been conversational up until now hardened with corporate experience. "A buyout in which you longer run the company. Step down gentleman." "And if we won't?" enquired another of the elders. "Does your buyout become a hostile takeover?" Piper blazed angrily. Nor was it a figure of speech. Recently the middle sister had acquired a new power. The power of fire. As yet it still wasn't under her complete control and when she got really angry it manifested itself. Piper stood before the Elders, her long dark hair blowing in the updraft from the flames that outlined her figure. "You'd like that wouldn't you? Blast you into oblivion if you say no." She stepped forward to face them. "You judge everyone by your own low standards. But get this. An eye for an eye is no longer acceptable…if it ever was. We don't punish the guilty. We learned that from you, even if you never did. If you say no, then you stay the Elders. But you won't have us as your henchmen." Prue stepped in at this point, her eyes flashing to match the seriousness of her tone. "So here's the bottom line. Either you quit as the Elders, or we quit as the Charmed Ones." Stepping up to join her sister, she continued. "We've got the spell to give up our powers right here. We ripped it out of the book after Rex and Hannah, but Liam was able to remember it. Phoebe altered it so that it will only affect us three, not the Book and not the children. They'll remain and grow up as witches, but we'll tell them about you and what you did to their cousin, and I think you'll find them difficult to deal with." Joining her siblings, and grasping hands, Phoebe finished the speech for the sisters three. "But as for the Charmed Ones, they'll be gone forever." A gasp went up from the ancient whitelighters. "You can't be serious," croaked Michael. "Say no, and we say the spell," answered Phoebe. "That's why Leo's here. To take us home." "Oh, and just so you know, the moment I've got them home, I resign," Leo put in. "Wait here," said a still shaken Michael to the three witches. "We must convene to consider your ultimatum." With that the six figures walked back into the whiteness. They waited for what seemed like forever. The sisters glanced around at one another resolutely. Then from the whiteness, Michael slowly walked back towards them. Pausing to compose himself he began to speak, "The Charmed Ones must not be lost. You are our greatest weapon in the fight against evil. And we have decided that your argument has merit, and that our time has passed. The world has changed but we, divorced from it as we are, have not. I do not think it is possible for us to change as much as is needed for these times. But change is necessary. Without it the fight is already lost. We will step down." Then looking at Prue, the ex-leader of the Elders smiled for the first time, "As this is an employee buyout, it falls to you to appoint the next Chairman of the Board." Considering this, Prue turned to Piper, "You're always complaining that you never see Leo, because he's always being called away by the Elders. Well as bosses ourselves, we know that as a boss you get to work whatever hours you like." Piper grinned, catching onto the plan. "Prue, that's brilliant. I think we could do with a boss who's been down in the trenches." Prue turned to Leo, and held out her hand, "Leo, you just got promoted." A stunned Leo took Prue's hand and shook it. To his surprise Michael walked forward and also shook his hand, congratulating him. Then crossing to his wife, the new Whitelighter Chairman gave Piper a kiss to remember. As they broke the kiss, Piper whispered in his ear, "Now you've no excuse for ever being late for dinner again."