Disclaimer: All characters are the copyright creations of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy; and Constance E. Burge and Aaron Spelling Productions. The character Silvestra is entirely my own creation. I'm a fan who would love the characters from the abovementioned to meet; and they do in this stor. This is intended solely for the pleasure of all those who love the characters in "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Charmed."

Rating: General Audiences

"SOLSTICE SISTERS"
Author: Les

Part I. "Morning Glories"

In the Magic Box, Anya helps an attractive female customer dressed in a flowing, turquoise and black robe, floppy hat `a la the "Flower Children" era of the 1960's.

"Morning Glories!" exclaims Anya. "I haven't sold many since the last equinox. Now that Yule is upon us, I've had a run on supplies! Are you a solitary or are you a member of a coven?"

"Merry Meet! I'm a solitary, but my friends who are on their way here are a coven by themselves," said Silvestra, or Silvie, for short.

Silvie wore her braided brown hair long and to her waist. She stands tall and lithe with steely green eyes and a dazzling smile.

"Are you having a reunion with your friends?" asks Anya.

"Of sorts."

"Well, I almost had a union with a husband-to-be, but the husband-to-be thing didn't happen and the wedding thing didn't wed and so I'm still single and free to shop-keep. I used to be a vengeance demon before I grabbed onto the mortal trip and..."

Anya babbling good-naturedly in her humorous, sing-song way that seems a bit incongruous with the Elizabeth style gown she's wearing, pleases Silvie, who's delighted with her banter as she browses through the aisles of the Magic Shop.

"Ha, ha! I don't know why you and the guy didn't pair-bond. You sound a hoot and a half!  Too much estrogen for his blood, eh?" asks Silvie.

Anya just smiles and looks upward to the ceiling with one of those indescribable expressions of exasperation and truth combined in one.

The pair continue to exchange pleasantries at Xander's expense.  It was a credit to Anya that she turned her sorrow into laughter with an enlightened bit of psychic alchemy.  It would have been understandable had she allowed her anger to transmogrify into unending hatred. For a while, it did, but she mustered her resolve and iron will. No: she wouldn't go back to being like Halfrek again.

"I'd love to have these icons!" says Silvie, pointing to those of Isis and Nepthis.

"Yours!" answers Anya as she takes and rings up the payment.

"Blessed Be and Merry Part!" says Silvie.

"Thanks for buying! Come again often to browse...or to just hang out!" exclaims Anya.

"And so I shall! What's you name?" asks Silvie.

"Anya. Anyanka Christina Emanuella Jenkins Emerson."

"I'm Silvestra Neoscolita Emmaline Plunkett...Silvie for short."

Both women make obeisance to each other in the Elizabethan manner, exaggerating the movements while hardly containing their amusement.

"May the Brightest Blessings of Yule be yours!" says Silvie.

"And so unto you!" answers Anya.

"My friends should be arriving soon. Tell them I was here, won't you, love?" says Silvie.  "There are three of them."

"Sure!" says Anya.

Racing at the peak of the speed limit and heading south of one of the eight-lane motorways is a dark, charcoal-colored SUV.  The driver, a woman of medium height with her eyes blazing in concentration and her lips pursed tightly and purposefully, holds her course in intense but outwardly subdued determination.  Her dark black pantsuit blends so well into the decor of the SUV that it seems all one could see is her head and hands.

"How much longer?" asks another woman in a blue business suit, raven-haired with a face like a classic Botticelli painting, who's all too eager to reach the destination.  "I still don't understand why you didn't want me to orb us there!"

"We'll be there soon enough," answers a third woman with short brown hair wearing an exercise suit."We're travelling a mile a minute, so we should be arriving in Sunnydale shortly.  It's only about an hour's drive from San Francisco."

The women's speech is similar, their determination unstoppable, their genes identical.  Between them, there's enough power to disintegrate a super-nova, they being megawitches whose magick would rival Willow in her vengeance mode.

"Silvie was spot-on with her directions," says the driver.  "There's the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' signpost on the right. Hang on: this will be a hard bank!"

The SUV swerves sharply into the exit lane.

"Whoa! Nothing like centrifugal force to stir the stomach juices!" cries Paige, the business-suited woman.

"I'm hardly noticing!" replies Phoebe. "I'm doing calesthenics!"

"I wonder what the other drivers are thinking as we pass them!" asks Piper who's driving, in mock horror.

"O.K., ladies...next stop..."The Magic Shop"


Part II Solstice Sisters

"Dawnie!  Want to see my new ceremonial robe? I got it especially for Yule!"  says the red-headed witch who's one of the few people allowed to call Buffy's sister by that nickname.  Willow is trying the robe on over a dark brown and black-striped dress with black boots that she would wear to the ceremony.

"Sure! It looks cool!" says Dawn.  She's dressed in a dark orange and brown print dress with brown high heels.

As Willow and Dawn talk in Willow's room in Summers Residence, the phone rings.

"Hello!" chirps Willow happily.  "Hi, Anya! Are you going to close early today? What? You say there are three witches there who want to meet me?  Who are they?  The Charmed Ones?  Of course I've heard of them! And Silvie was there and said they'd be coming?  Sure, I'll be right over!"

"Dawnie, I have to go to the Magic Box. Anya tells me the megawitches called The Charmed Ones want to meet me. Maybe they want to invite us to their Yule celebration.

"Can I come with you?" asks Dawn.

"Ordinarily, I'd say yes, of course. I'd be glad to introduce you, but I'd rather you go with Anya to the Winter Solstice celebration we're going to.  You can wear my robe, if you like. I just have a suspicion this may be something they may want to be private. Call it a premonition."

"You really do know how to reach, don't you, Willow?" asks Dawn rhetorically.

"Just play on your fashion sense...it works every time! See you later!" says Willow.

Willow leaves on foot for the Magic Box since it's so close to Summers Residence.  Upon arriving, she finds Piper, Paige and Phoebe Halliwell talking animatedly with Anya.

"Merry Meet, High Ones!  Willow Rosenberg at your service," she says, bowing her head.

"Merry Meet, Lady Willow!" say the Charmed Ones in unison.

"No need to stand on formality," says Piper. I'm Piper Halliwell, this is Phoebe, this is Paige."

"Ladies" acknowledges Willow.  "Of course, I've heard of you. Silvie, who's a mutual friend, talks about you often. I'm honored to meet you...especially on the Solstice."

"Likewise," says Phoebe. "We understand you work with Buffy often, right?"

"Yes. She and I are best friends."

"We three live in San Francisco," says Paige.  I'm the newest addition. Our older sister Prue died at the hands of a demon named Shax."

"I'm terribly sorry," says Willow.  "It appears we share a common sadness. The woman whom I loved was murdered by a stray bullet intended to kill Buffy."

"That's terrible!" says Paige.  "I'm so sorry."

"I miss Tara desperately."

"Tara?" asks Piper.

"Tara McClay," replies Willow.

"Of the McClay can in Ireland?" asks Piper urgently.

"Yes. She was of Irish and Romany parentage."

"I've heard of them!" cries Piper.  They've been custodians and practitioners of The Craft for centuries!"

"And all that remain are her father and siblings whom she ran away from.  She found a loving family in me and in Buffy and the rest of the gang. We call ourselves the Scoobys."

"I have a confession to make to you," says Piper, her mood changing and her face reddening.

"What could that possibly be, Piper?" asks Willow. "We've only just met and..."

"Let me explain," says Piper.  I tell you this in the presence of my sisters who are also hearing this for the first time."

"What's this about, Piper?" asks Phoebe, nervously.

"Yeah, I didn't know that you keep secrets from us!" cries Paige.

"I've hated you, Willow. I've harbored a hatred towards you for the longest time."

"What? Why do..."

"I've hated you not because of anything you've done to any of us or to any of our friends...as you say...we're meeting now for the first time. I've hated you because you used the Urn of Osiris to resurrect Buffy. And the secret that I harbor is that I wanted to use it to resurrect Prue."

Phoebe and Paige gasp. "Why didn't you tell us?" cry Phoebe and Paige simultaneously.

"It's my secret fear...my one secret fear...that I didn't dare to even speak or whisper to anyone," says Piper, her head lowered.

"Piper, how did you hear about my resurrection spell?" asks Willow, looking stern and very concerned.

"From Silvie. The occult news gets around pretty quick...especially news like this," answers Piper.

"But it worked!" cries Willow, defensively.  "Buffy's alive and there wasn't any demon that tagged along to.."

"I know that. But the reason for my hatred wasn't against you personally, as I say. You are the victim of circumstance. It would have been anyone who had used the Urn, thereby preventing me from acquring it and using it...just as you did."

"You never told us anything about this!" exclaims Phoebe, visibly angered.

"I didn't know anything about this, either!" says Paige, exchanging disturbed glances with Phoebe.

"I know you didn't. As I say, it's my one secret agony that I keep inside of me. That is, until now. I didn't even tell Leo," says Piper.

"Who's Leo?" asks Willow.

"He's my husband," says Piper. "He's a Whitelighter."

"I see: and even he...?"

"No. Not even he. Our mother and grandmother materialized and told us that it was too soon for us to see Prue. If we did, it would alter our destiny; and we wouldn't want to continue fighting demons and fighting for goodness.  We'd be waiting only for Prue to return and be our leader again.  As we said, Prue was our oldest sister and our leader; and she had tremendous powers of telekenesis.  I was the middle sister and I can freeze time and blow up the baddies, if need be. Phoebe was then the youngest; and she's a martial artist as well as one with the gift of far-sight.  Her premonitions are never wrong.  After Prue's death, we met Paige who's our half-sister. She's half Whitelighter and half witch.  So we became the Power of Three again. But through it all, I had hoped to acquire the Urn and resurrect Prue."

"Piper, why are you telling me all this now?" asks Willow.

"Because I want to apologize to you face to face as well as confess my secret to you and my sisters. It's Winter Solstice; and what better time to do so?  I promise that I'll never harbor any grudge against you again. I know this is more than awkward...meeting someone for the first time and telling that person what I just did, but as I say..."

"You don't have to explain anything further," says Willow, softly. "I didn't know that my using the last Urn would have any such effect on anyone else. I knew all the immediate risks:  the obvious ones being that Buffy could have come back wrong and that a demon or demons could have entered "piggyback," so to speak. Let me tell you one thing, Piper: Although there are no more Urns of Osiris, there are plenty of volumes of Magick that are stored here in the Magic Box.  I pledge to you and to Paige and to Phoebe (as well as on the memory of Prue), that on my honor and on my life I'll help you in any way that you request at any time and at any place. I've seen many interdimensional writings that are stored here...many of them, of course, Dark Magick. I pledge to you here and now that I'll be there for you anytime and anywhere you wish. The writings and the teachings couldn't be in more safe hands."

"I wasn't really expecting that kind of response from you, Willow, I have to tell you," says Piper. I'm really overwhelmed that you'd swear a sacred pledge of sisterhood to me and my sisters as you have...especially when we come here and indict you, to be blunt about it."

"Let's swear eternal sisterhood!" cries Willow, her mood changing and her face brightening.

So saying, she crosses her arms and places her hands on opposite shoulders, in the manner of the ancient Egyptian royals.  The Charmed Ones do the same.

"I swear by the power and on the name of The Goddess that I will henceforth and forever be loyal and true to my sisters, so help me and charge me, Mighty Isis, Osiris and Nepthis," intones Willow.

The Charmed Ones repeat the oath, their arms similarly folded with their hands placed on opposite shoulders.

"So swear I now, so swear I forever!" says Willow.

"So swear we now, so swear we forever!" say The Charmed Ones.

Thus completed, Willow lifts her dress above her ankle to reveal her ceremonial knife, her atheme, that's sheathed in a leather sheath above her left ankle. She takes it out and makes a small cut on her forefinger. She passes the atheme to the Charmed Ones and they do the same.

"One pledge, one oath, one sisterhood, one Lord, one Lady," intones Willow.

"One pledge, one oath, one sisterhood, one Lord, one Lady," intone the Charmed Ones as they make their marks of blood sisterhood.

"It's done then!" cries Willow as she embraces the Charmed Ones.

"Lady Willow!" say the Charmed Ones in unison as they hug Willow.  The sisters cleanse their fingers and the atheme with peroxide.

"It's nearing twilight," says Willow. "Please join me and the Scoobys as we welcome Yuletide!"

"A pleasure!" "Yeah" and "Coolness!" respond the Charmed Ones in unison.

"After the ceremony, why don't you come with us to 'P3' for a dance and refreshments?" asks Piper.  "That's the club I own."

"Can we all fit into your car?" asks Willow.

"Uh, guys, aren't you forgetting something?" asks Paige.  "I can orb everyone there! With the power boost we have now, it's easy!"

"Great!" exclaims Willow.

"Whoa, guys! What about the SUV?" asks Piper.

"Give me the keys and I'll drive it back with Silvie!" offers Anya, who has been listening intently but remaining silent throughout.

"Coolness!" says Paige again.

And so the sisters celebrate Yuletide in Sunnydale and in San Francisco, thanks to the wonder of orbing and the even greater wonder of bonding. Theirs would be a lifetime of love and devotion. So mote it be!

                                                           END