Of Lorenz Theory & Love

Jimmy & Darcy: A Second Chance

Charmed CW characters belong to Charmed CW. Denis and Tera, Darcy, Della, and Dora Valensi are my imagination at work. Light research was conducted for context.

21 Jimmy & Darcy: A Second Chance

Oldham, Greater Manchester, Two Days after Death, 1957

One unusually cold morning in 1957, Jimmy Westwell's body was discovered just outside of the Tessera Nightclub, swiftly identified by the authorities, and brought back to the flat he had once shared with Clara and Carter. A quiet funeral was held shortly thereafter, attended only by two forlorn people, dressed entirely in black from head to toe. Celeste remained hidden a discreet distance away behind an oak tree, until the funeral attendees and hired pallbearers departed.

Just one day before, Celeste had obtained Clara's explicit, handwritten permission for Jimmy's body to be donated to the medical college branch of the University of Manchester for alcohol and toxicology studies, knowing full well exactly what would be happening instead.

Midnight, Oldham, Greater Manchester, Three Days after Death, 1957

Hours later at midnight, Celeste and a team of other Elders exhumed Jimmy's body, murmuring digging spells to expedite the process and avoid any run-ins with grave-robbers or the local police. After retrieval (and clean-up vis-à-vis replacement of the soil, courtesy of Celeste herself), Jimmy's body was subsequently carried by the Elders and orbed to Castle Braith up north.

8 am, Scotland, Castle Braith, Observatory Room, Three Days after Death, 1957

Jimmy's body lay on the operating table, naked and vulnerable, surrounded by a cluster of aged Elders, all of whom began chanting in Latin. Their long, dark robes vaguely resembled those of monastic folk, simple in nature, but tailored ever-so-slightly to be distinguishable from such, if one looked close enough. The candles were lit, and the incense in full, glorious swing.

This was all well and good for all of the Elders, except for Celeste, of course, who had not expected Jimmy to drop dead three decades early. Furthermore, if Celeste had known the Elders were doing mystical open-soul surgery this early in the morning, she likely would have gone to sleep sooner the night before, instead of orbing to Tessera Nightclub. She massaged her head ruefully. Had she really imbibed five absinthe shots in a row? Clearly, she needed to work on her alcohol tolerance. Celeste wove herself further into the back crowd of Elders, preferring to nurse her hangover without inhaling a lungful of frankincense.

And so the ritualistic performance continued.

8:40 am, Scotland, Castle Braith, Observatory Room, Three Days after Death, 1957

Jimmy's dark essence was gradually being extracted away from his body in a large, vaporized cloud that was ever-expanding. The tendrils of sheer human mischief and evil curled broadly, reaching for the high-ceilinged light fixtures that resembled wood chandeliers of the Renaissance era. Rather apt, given that this was a rebirth of sorts, Celeste mused to herself, as she joined in the chants that echoed across the ancient castle's runic-inscribed walls.

9 am, Scotland, Castle Braith, Observatory Room, Three Days after Death, 1957

Good lord, this ceremony takes forever, Celeste thought, though still managing to keep a straight, somber face to appease the other Elders. Sixty minutes really felt like sixty years in a dark, damp place like this. Suddenly, an Elder to her right poked her sharply in the ribs. What? Oh—yes, the bottling. Celeste stepped forward, surveying the glass brandy bottle-shaped containers available to bottle the dark essence of Jimmy Westwell's soul. She completed the task adeptly and placed the container on a wooden apothecary shelf.

Now, to name the new Jimmy Westwell...who begins life anew without a single memory of his past self...who should this man be called?

Celeste had only minutes to make this momentous decision. She remembered having seen in the castle corridor not so long ago, a well-made portrait of Harold Godwinson, ancient Anglo-Saxon king of Scotland circa year 1066, a most excellent likeness. Harold, or...Harry. Yes, Harry. Proper-sounding, with a contemporary flair.

As for Harry's last name? She hurriedly looked toward the apothecary shelf; the dark matter was stored between two glass jars labeled "Green grass" and "Wood Worm." Green? Too generic. Worm? Yuck, no. Green...wood? Greenwood! And so "Greenwood" it was. No sooner had she decided, that the man began stirring; Celeste turned around to greet him.

"Good morning, Harry Greenwood. Due to your heroic efforts during your mortal life on Earth saving Matias, you have now been made a Whitelighter." Celeste mentioned a bit about training, apprenticeships, and later assignment to a magical person and/or family, of whom he was honor-bound to serve and protect. Harry indicated that he was indeed open to this unique opportunity, though he had no idea who this "Matias" was, given the double memory erasure (of Jimmy, then when Jimmy became Harry).

What Celeste had neglected to mention, however, was that Matias and his mother Darcy Valensi were distant relatives of a future Charmed One, Macy. Celeste knew that sooner or later, Harry Greenwood would encounter this equally gorgeous relative, thoroughly dreading the day his distractions would cloud his wiser Whitelighter judgment.

Harry, of course, had no idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3 pm Seattle, 10 pm Azores, SafeSpace Command Center, Present Day

Harry instinctively rolled a couple of marbles at the Command Center—their cool, smooth touch felt oddly familiar in his outstretched palm. His momentary contemplation was interrupted by Macy, who appeared by his side, grinning like mad after their heady adventures together in the Azores.

"Ready to return to Vera Manor?" he asked. Macy nodded, kissing his cheek as she took his outstretched arm.