Demon Doppelgangers

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Paige Matthews orbed herself and her nephew, Wyatt, to the north edge of Lincoln Park, materializing in a small thicket at Land's End. She quickly checked to see if anyone was around who could have seen her, although she knew the chances of that were slim. It was Tuesday, June 21, the first morning of summer, but the blustery conditions were decidedly unsummerlike, and she was convinced the weather would keep most people from a location this open to the elements.

Confirming that they were alone, she checked on Wyatt, making sure he was bundled against the wind. Then she pushed the baby stroller out of the woods and into the open.

"I love coming here," she said to the baby, "and I thought today would be a good day to share it with you, too."

She always talked to Wyatt as if he could understand her every word, and she sometimes wondered if he could, in fact, do just that. He seemed to understand his parents, Piper and Leo, far more than other babies could understand theirs. That, of course, was because, like Paige, he was the product of a witch and her Whitelighter, her guardian. To Paige, this created a special bond between Wyatt and her, and it was part of the reason she'd brought him here today, part of the reason she talked to him as if he were an adult rather than just a baby.

She pushed the stroller near the edge of Land's End and stopped, taking in the view: the sweep of the Presidio, with its hills and trees curving away from the park and stretching to the Golden Gate Bridge; the bridge itself, holding its mass above the expanse of water on spires lifting heavenward; and the bodies of water separated by the bridge, the enclosed bay on one side surrounded by the city, the open ocean on the other, the home of the elements. The wind blustered enough to keep the bridge in view, making the whole panorama breathtaking.

Paige took it in for a moment silently, smelling the salt air, then continued her conversation with Wyatt. "Do you see that?" She checked to ensure that he in fact could see the view, that he was still bundled against the wind and the cold. Then she straightened, continuing her explanation. "That, over there, is the Pacific." She pointed out over the gray ocean, its white-topped waves falling over one another as the wind pushed them under the bridge and into San Francisco Bay. "That landmass, the one with all the trees and not much in the way of buildings, is the Presidio. And that" -- here she pointed to the bridge itself -- "is the Gate. Nice name, don't you think?" She smiled, repeating it. "The Gate. The pathway from one life to another. From the wild of the sea to the civilized world, to all that humankind has built."

She paused. "It's like a metaphor for you and me, Wyatt. The place where nature and things beyond humankind's control meet the world as we know it." She breathed deeply, closing her eyes. "And today, it's summer. You may be dressed like it's still winter, but it's really summer." She smiled again. "That ol' summer will come on its own terms, not ours."

She took in the view for a moment longer, then turned the stroller. "Okay, enough of this. Let's get out of this wind and see the rest of the park."

She pushed the stroller toward the Legion of Honor Museum. "I wonder what's happening at the museum today," she said. "Maybe Auntie Paige can show you some antiquities." She stopped as a tour bus rolled up to the front entrance of the museum. "Oh, look, Wyatt, tourists. Let's see how many of them think that just because it's summer, it'll be hot enough for shorts and T-shirts."

As the bus disgorged its passengers, Paige noted that there were indeed several dressed in shorts, or in other clothing too light for the day's chilly conditions. She watched as they hurried into the museum, hugging their cameras as if for warmth.

"See that?" she asked Wyatt. "Those tourists are another metaphor, in their own way." She glanced down to see if Wyatt was watching them. "They come to California expecting sunshine, blue skies, palm trees, and balmy breezes. They watch too much TV." She looked at the tourists scurrying for the doors of the museum, most of them rushing right past the huge statue, Rodin'sThinker."They don't know what effect that ocean, with its invisible currents, has on our weather. Just like they have no idea how the forces ofourworld, the world of magic, affect life here for them, for the ordinary people."

She was about to continue when one young man stepped off the bus, nearly the last to do so. He, too, was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but he was smiling. He turned to the bay, breathed deeply, and -- instead of hurrying into the museum like the rest of the tourists -- walked toward the ocean.

Paige retreated a bit into the brush, watching this handsome young man, so surprised by his actions that she let her last sarcastic quip die on the tip of her tongue.

The young man moved to a low-lying rock, very near to where Paige stood with the stroller, and climbed up on it. Facing the ocean, he removed his shirt and spread his arms out wide, seeming to embrace the chill wind that bore down on him.

Paige noted that he looked even more handsome with his shirt off.

Wyatt squealed out what sounded very much like a laugh, and the young man jumped at the sound. He turned, spotted Paige, and quickly put his shirt back on. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to disturb you and your baby, ma'am."

"Don't worry, you didn't. And just for the record, I'm his aunt, not his mom." Paige moved the stroller closer to the stranger, who had by now hopped off the rock. "So, what were you doing there?" she asked.

"Oh, just kind of..." He looked back out at the ocean. "It's so big, you know? So powerful." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm from Kansas. We don't have an ocean there. So to be this close, to be here -- " He broke off, shaking his head. "I'm sure it sounds loony, but I just wanted to, you know, greet the ocean. On its own terms. To acknowledge all that power."

Paige nodded, impressed, perhaps even stunned, that a tourist could be awed by the same power that she'd come here to introduce to Wyatt. "I see," she managed. For a moment she shared a look of understanding with the young man.

"Well," he said, "I'd better catch up with my tour."

"Enjoy the museum," she said. "And the ocean."

"Thanks. I intend to."

Paige watched as the young man turned and walked away. She noted that he walked faster on his way to the museum, like the other tourists had. But he stopped to admire the Rodin. Just before moving toward the entrance, he looked back, spotted Paige still watching him, and smiled. Then he disappeared into the museum.

"Well," Paige said to herself as much as to Wyatt, "that was certainly interesting." She glanced at the baby. "I know, I know, I shouldn't lump all tourists into one basket, right? Because as soon as I do, one will surprise me." She rolled the stroller closer to the museum, past the bus, past the sculpture garden, and nearer the entrance. "Don't worry," she said, "I'm not planning on hanging around just for another peek at Mr. Young and Handsome. Besides, he'll be on his way back to Kansas soon."

Wyatt burbled, this time sounding like "Ohhh," and he pointed with his little fingers at the large banner rustling in the wind over the entrance to the museum.

"What's that, Wyatt?" She read the banner. "Oh. Greek antiquities. A touring exhibit, arriving soon." She smiled. "We should come back for that show. Auntie Paige actually knows quite a bit about Greek antiquities. I could probably even..." She stopped, turning this new idea over. "Let's go home, Wyatt. Let's tell Mommy all about our day."

"Sounds like you two had fun," said Piper Halliwell. She sat in front of Wyatt, now in his high chair, feeding him as Paige told her about their adventure. "I hope Wyatt here didn't cramp your style with that buffed-out guy."

"No, of course not." Paige regarded her sister, enjoying the warmth of the kitchen, the smell of baking bread. "And that's not why I went back to the entrance. Not the only reason, anyway."

"Greek antiquities, right. Sounds interesting. Maybe we could all go."

"I'm not just talking about going to see it," Paige explained. "I want to get a job there."

Piper cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. As a tour guide or something. Just for the time that the exhibit is in town."

"It sounds perfect for you. You know a lot about Greek art, Greek history. More than most people. Just don't go running off to the next city on the tour with some Greek god."

"I promise." Paige smiled and walked to the phone. She dialed the museum's number and made her pitch.

Later that afternoon Piper walked into P3 with Wyatt on her hip. "See how quiet it is at this time of day?" She touched him on his button nose. "So we won't bother anyone, and no one will bother us." She headed for her office.

She'd just settled Wyatt into the corner with some baby toys when her cell phone rang. She glanced at the number. "Look, Wyatt, it's Aunt Phoebe." She snapped the phone open. "Hey, Phoebes, what's up?"

"I need a favor. Can you see if I left a folder of letters to be answered in the bathroom?"

"Gee, I'd love to," said Piper, "but I'm not at home. I'm at the office."

"That explains why you're not picking up the land line." There was a short pause. "What are you doing there this time of day?"

"Checking inventory."

"Umm...don't you have someone who does that for you?"

"Usually," said Piper, "but there's a discrepancy in the numbers. It looks like we've been short a bottle of premium tequila on every order this month. Same brand every time. And it's the most expensive one we carry."

"So you think..."

"Yes," said Piper. "I'm worried that someone is selling it off the books and keeping the cash for themselves."

"Bummer. How will you find out?"

"I'm going over the books myself while it's quiet here."

Wyatt giggled from the corner.

"You've got Wyatt with you?" Phoebe asked.

"Yeah. He's happy putting toys in his mouth. And I really didn't want to be down here all day, so when he gets tired of it, it'll be time to head home."

"Good luck tracking that discrepancy down," said Phoebe.

"Yeah." Piper sounded glum. "I'm really hoping I don't have to fire anybody. I like the staff. And until now, I trusted them."

"Just remember that the most obvious answer usuallyisthe right one."

"Gee," said Piper, "that sounds an awful lot like an 'Ask Phoebe' platitude."

"Does it?" Phoebe stopped a moment. "Sorry. I guess it does."

"Don't worry about it." Piper opened the accounting books on her desk. "Listen, I'm going to get at this. I'll see you back at the Manor." She hung up, sighed, and began crunching numbers.

Paige sat in the museum office across the desk from the woman, waiting. She thought the woman looked perfect for her job. Poised, cultured, with her own classic beauty, she could have been a Greek goddess herself. The nameplate on her desk read GRACE STEPHENS.

Ms. Stephens read the paper in her hand. "Impressive. Most of our applicants know the Titans, of course, but it's nice to see that you have a grasp of the mythological gods who came before them. Chaos, Gaea, Eros...you've got them all pegged." She turned the page over. "And you apparently know as much about Greek architecture as you do about mythology. I especially like your description of the temples of Athena and Apollo. You're able to convey what's important about them in your own words, so it doesn't sound like you did your research online last night." She looked up. "Which is exactly the quality we want for this job, that ability to take the ancient and make it sound current, alive, rather than like some stodgy, musty old relic."

Paige smiled. "So, how long before I know..."

"Oh. You're hired. Sorry, did I not make that clear? I'd like you to take the catalog home, study it, do your own research on any items that you aren't familiar with, and come back here next Monday at nine. I'll walk you and the other new hires through the exhibit before the opening on Tuesday."

Paige rose, thrilled. "Thanks very much, Ms. Stephens."

Grace held out her hand. "Welcome to the museum."

Paige left the office, glancing about at the museum that would soon be her workplace, taking in the smells of antiquity -- and that's when she saw him. The young man from that morning, coming out of the office next to Grace's. Clad now in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt, he looked much less touristy, but just as handsome.

Paige stepped back, uncertain, and let him pass without his seeing her.

There were few coincidences in the lives of the Charmed Ones, she knew. She wondered what role this young man was to play in her future.

Copyright © 2005 Spelling Television Inc. All Rights Reserved.

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Excerpted from Demon Doppelgangers by Greg Elliot, Constance M. Burge
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.