Chris had just stepped out of the shower. He was ringing out various articles of clothing and hooking it onto the string that currently filtered through the backroom of P3. It wasn't like he wanted to do this more than figuring out who turns Wyatt but, like his mother always said; one does not simply hunt demons in dirty underwear. Or something like that.

Well here Christopher was, doing laundry by hand because his mother, who was not his mother, refused him the basic courtesies afforded to any other human. Oh, had he been an innocent, even if he was rude, Chris had no doubt that they would be treated with respect, even if he had not deserved it, but since he was a whitelighter that meant he did not deserve any respect.

It was then that he heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he said from the bathroom, since he would sense that it was his aunt Phoebe.

"Hello?" His aunt asked from the main door leading into the back room. "I'm back here," he called out, "it's fine, I'm dressed." He said as an afterthought.

"Oh, uh, hi?" Phoebe asked from the open door to the bathroom, "if this is a bad time, I can come back?"

Chris smiled but shook his head, "No," he said, "You're fine, Phoebe."

Phoebe raised a finger, "That's Aunt Phoebe to you, Mister."

Christopher shook his head because ever since Phoebe found out about his identity she had been over-attentive of him. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy it because, deep down, he did but really…he was a grown man. He didn't need to be checked up on every five minutes.

Phoebe looked around, "So, uh," she hesitated, "what's going on?"

Christopher, still smiling, stood up brought out more wringed laundry, "Washing my clothes and placing them out to dry," he shrugged, "exciting work."

Phoebe chuckled, "Why not use the machine at the manor?"

Chris sighed, losing his smile, "Piper would never allow me to, Aunt Phoebe." He said simply, with a hint of sadness.

Phoebe made a 'tsking' sound with her tongue, "Nuh-uh-uh, Christopher, that's mom to you."

Chris shook his head and turned around, staring at his aunt, "No," he said simply as his eyes displayed emotions of hurt and betrayal, "not yet," he looked down and whispered, "Maybe not ever?"

Phoebe sighed, placing a hand on her nephew's shoulder, "Hey," she said with a smile, "cheer up; we'll get them together; okay? I'm not letting my youngest nephew not be born; especially when he's so cute!" She pinched his cheek, causing him to swat at her hand and laugh.

He smiled at his aunt, "Alright, if you say so," he shook his head.

She nodded, "Chris, I do say so. And, I mean it, okay?" No answer. She gave him a pointed look, "Okay?"

He sighed, looking down to the floor, but did not answer her.

She groaned, "Christopher Parry Halliwell, I asked you a question. Okay?"

He winced, fidgeting a little, "Okay," he said.

She smiled now, "Okay, what?"

He rolled his eyes, "Okay, Aunt Phoebe."

She nodded her head, "Now that that's settled, let's do some laundry." She smiled, walking back to the bathroom, "I can't have my baby nephew vanquishing demons in dirty underwear; now can I?" She smirked, looking back at him.

He sighed, "No," and just shook his head. This was his Aunt Phoebe, who may be strange, but she's his Aunt Phoebe and he wouldn't have it any other way.