Disclaimer: Aaron Spelling owns them, I don't. Just borrowing
Warning: extreme foolishness ahead and some Phoebe bashing!
Stockings Hung With Care
"You want me to do what?"
"It's just to test the spell out, Prue," Phoebe explained. "We need something a person can wear and I don't want to use one of my pink woolly hats."
"Do the words 'personal gain' mean anything to you?"
"But it's not for us-- and, and it's Christmas! We're supposed to give people a gift then!"
"Why do I have to be the guinea pig?"
"Because you're braver than I am and no one notices what you wear anyway."
Muttering, Prue gave in. "All right, all right. How long is this going to take?"
"Just let me cast the spell, then it'll take only a few seconds for us to tell if it worked." Phoebe picked up the wads of fabric on the kitchen table, blinked four times rapidly, and chanted in Swahili: "Hopes within to travel without, let heart's wish now come about!"
Sparkles of green light illuminated her skinny arms for a picosecond, though Kit was the only one who noticed. She licked her stomach nervously and crawled under the couch.
"Oh, ouch, hot!" Phoebe dropped her burden.
"So it worked?"
"We'll know for sure once we test them."
Sighing chestily, Prue kicked off her four-inch spiked heels, peeling off her stockings. She picked up the socks which had fallen to the floor. "Next time we use mine," she said firmly, pulling the scratchy green-and- red socks up over her fat toes. "And you are going to learn how to knit" her sentence was cut off by her sliding across the wooden floor, over to the fireplace, and flying up the chimney.
"PHOEBE!"
The socks drifted back to the ground, unoccupied.
Phoebe stared at them for several minutes. "Oh dear. I don't think Prue's in Kansas anymore."
Using her tremendous mystical power and her cute, puppydog-brown 20/40 eyesight, Phoebe quickly determined that Prue was thankfully not stuck in the chimney, despite her older sister's secret passion for Rocky Road ice cream.
She thought hard for 2 hours and forty minutes, but arrived at no further insights. "Why can't you stupid Elders ever give me any real help?" she grumbled. Hiding the enchanted socks in her Statistics textbook, where no one would ever look, she hurried upstairs to consult the Book of Shadows.
The Book was open as Phoebe reached for it. It slammed shut, rolling away at 45 mph. Even Phoebe wasn't that fast, though it took her another seventeen minutes and eleven seconds of running all over the attic before she got out of breath. No one could say she wasn't in shape, she thought proudly.
Then catastrophe struck. As Phoebe discarded her first approach in favor of ambush tactics, stealthily tiptoeing toward the ancient book full of spells and potions, the BOS apparently decided that discretion was the better of valor and shot out of the room, making a break down the stairs.
Phoebe raced after it. "COME BACK HERE! I need to know how to get Prue back before--" she stopped, staring at the shirtless man in front of her. "Uh, uh, uh--" He put a tanned, muscular hand beneath her chin, lifting it to meet his piercing blue eyes. "Phoebe," Leo said patiently, "we've been over this. I'm flattered that you think I'm still 'fine', but Piper's getting a little tired of washing drool off the furniture." He picked up the BOS. "What's going on? And why do you need to 'know how to get Prue back'?"
Phoebe clutched at the BOS. The grimoire shrieked as her fingers brushed the front cover.
"Ok, what did you do?"
"Why do you always blame me?! I mean, just because I couldn't even tell a human apart from a demon, that doesn't mean I'm stupid!" Phoebe howled, anguished. "I can have good ideas too!"
"Apparently your latest good idea, whatever it was, was capable of sending a four-hundred- year-old vessel of magical wisdom and power into an attack of the screaming meemies," Leo said, his teeth pressed together as his face turned an even more attractive shade of Belthazorlike reddish/burgundy. "Explanations, Phoebe, now..."
"Um. Well, we did this spell, to bring another person their heart's desire. It's almost Christmas, and this person, we wanted to give them something but we didn't know what they wanted most. The spell was supposed to lead us to it." Phoebe got her Statistics book out of its' hiding place in the freezer, and removed the socks. "But Prue just disappeared, and these were left behind."
"You traded your sister for a pair of socks?! Used socks??!"
"Can't you find her?"
Leo squeezed his eyes shut. Phoebe fell silent. She thought he needed to concentrate. In fact, Leo was faking it to get her to stop talking. He already could sense Prue.
"Why don't you go watch Kill It Before It Dies, Phoebe," he suggested kindly. Never argue with drunks, witches, or the terminally stupid...and don't ask me which one I'm thinking of here. "You've had a hard day. I'll take care of Prue. " He stretched, raising his arms over his head. Phoebe was mesmerized by the rippling manly muscles under his greasy, saw-dust covered T-shirt. "Yes, of course," she mumbled. She left. Leo heaved a sigh of relief and orbed. He appeared on a deserted ATOL landing strip. The surrounding countryside was covered with knee-deep snow.
"Leo! It's wonderful to see you." A portly, white-bearded gentleman hurried up to him. "I thought you wanted to wait until Christmas tomorrow, but I have that Xbox you asked for all wrapped and ready to go anytime," he said reassuringly. He squashed the Whitelighter in a bear hug. "Would you like the new version of the Ken doll too? We have extras," the old man whispered.
Leo gasped for air which he didn't need, having been dead for sixty years. It was a harder habit to break than smoking, he'd found.
"N-no, thank you. I'm here looking for one of my charges--"
"Hey, Leo!"
Prue was sitting in front of what appeared to be an igloo. She wore a fur coat, and a diamond necklace. A sullen-looking Inuit sat across from her.
"Now don't sulk, it's extremely unattractive. Really. You shouldn't have tried to beat me at Marco Polo. And no one told you to bet all this stuff that you'd win. Fair's fair."
He smiled, and shrugged. "That's true. And you didn't vanquish me when I thought you were a polar bear, and tried to shoot you, which I appreciate." The Inuit kissed her hand.
"Have a good Christmas, Prudence. I will dream of you forever, even though we only met five minutes ago." He scurried away, disappearing.
"Prue, what went wrong?" Leo asked.
"Phoebe cast this spell. Then I was fool enough to put on this pair of enchanted socks.... and it got me dropped off here. Wherever here is. Mr. Kringle has been very cordial but-- I'd like to get home.....so Icankillphoebe," Prue muttered under her breath.
"I'm sorry but I can't let you do that." Leo staggered slightly at the unexpected weight of his newly gained backbone.
"You're sorry? I'm the one who's standing wherever here is with nothing on my feet but used Cosmopolitan magazines!"
"We're at the North Pole. That happened for a reason. You must have some higher purpose for being sent here."
"I'm here because Phoebe's head was detached about ten years ago and SHE
HASN'T FIGURED IT OUT YET!"
"Magic does happen for a reason, my dear,"the strange rotund gentleman said. "You must be meant to help some poor, lonely child sitting alone somewhere with only a collection of Barney dolls and unlimited junk food to console her. Wait right here and I'll harness up my sleigh, while you and your guardian angel come up with a brilliant plan to save the world. Again."
"I'd better go consult with the elders, and with Prue's sisters," Leo suggested. "They might have some valuable information."
"Excellent, Leo! Go ahead. Prudence will be fine with me and Prancer."
Leo orbed away. Prue stared at the spot where he'd been, utterly speechless.
Leo appeared in the living room at the Manor, just as Piper entered.
"Hi, honey. " He kissed her. "How did it go at the club?"
"Oh, it was great! Have you seen Prue, or Phoebe? I tried to call, to ask them to get dinner started, but no one answered the phone."
"Phoebe's watching her favorite movie for the twenty-fifth time. Prue had a date. She won't be back until morning."
"A date? Did you meet the guy?"
"Yes. His name's Nicholas, he's only a little older than her, funny, kind, and he loves to see people smile, especially likes giving them presents. It's almost like a second job with him."
"Mmm, sounds good! So...we have the place to ourselves tonight ?" Piper gave him a smile hot enough to melt latex as she asked that question.
"Yes." Leo kissed her again. "Merry Christmas Eve," he whispered.
"Well, then, aren't you ....going to unwrap me?" she whispered back.
Kit crawled out from under the couch, giving Leo a knowing feline wink. Did it work? the familiar asked telepathically.
Yes, thanks. I owe you one for "knocking over" the scroll that held that wish-come-true spell.
And don't forget it! I want caviar. None of that Nine Lives gunk.
You've got it! For a night off without those two around, I'd rent you your own pond. But excuse me, I have to go open my 'present'... Leo swung Piper up in his arms, orbing to their room.
Merry Christmas to all....remember, turn out the light!
Warning: extreme foolishness ahead and some Phoebe bashing!
Stockings Hung With Care
"You want me to do what?"
"It's just to test the spell out, Prue," Phoebe explained. "We need something a person can wear and I don't want to use one of my pink woolly hats."
"Do the words 'personal gain' mean anything to you?"
"But it's not for us-- and, and it's Christmas! We're supposed to give people a gift then!"
"Why do I have to be the guinea pig?"
"Because you're braver than I am and no one notices what you wear anyway."
Muttering, Prue gave in. "All right, all right. How long is this going to take?"
"Just let me cast the spell, then it'll take only a few seconds for us to tell if it worked." Phoebe picked up the wads of fabric on the kitchen table, blinked four times rapidly, and chanted in Swahili: "Hopes within to travel without, let heart's wish now come about!"
Sparkles of green light illuminated her skinny arms for a picosecond, though Kit was the only one who noticed. She licked her stomach nervously and crawled under the couch.
"Oh, ouch, hot!" Phoebe dropped her burden.
"So it worked?"
"We'll know for sure once we test them."
Sighing chestily, Prue kicked off her four-inch spiked heels, peeling off her stockings. She picked up the socks which had fallen to the floor. "Next time we use mine," she said firmly, pulling the scratchy green-and- red socks up over her fat toes. "And you are going to learn how to knit" her sentence was cut off by her sliding across the wooden floor, over to the fireplace, and flying up the chimney.
"PHOEBE!"
The socks drifted back to the ground, unoccupied.
Phoebe stared at them for several minutes. "Oh dear. I don't think Prue's in Kansas anymore."
Using her tremendous mystical power and her cute, puppydog-brown 20/40 eyesight, Phoebe quickly determined that Prue was thankfully not stuck in the chimney, despite her older sister's secret passion for Rocky Road ice cream.
She thought hard for 2 hours and forty minutes, but arrived at no further insights. "Why can't you stupid Elders ever give me any real help?" she grumbled. Hiding the enchanted socks in her Statistics textbook, where no one would ever look, she hurried upstairs to consult the Book of Shadows.
The Book was open as Phoebe reached for it. It slammed shut, rolling away at 45 mph. Even Phoebe wasn't that fast, though it took her another seventeen minutes and eleven seconds of running all over the attic before she got out of breath. No one could say she wasn't in shape, she thought proudly.
Then catastrophe struck. As Phoebe discarded her first approach in favor of ambush tactics, stealthily tiptoeing toward the ancient book full of spells and potions, the BOS apparently decided that discretion was the better of valor and shot out of the room, making a break down the stairs.
Phoebe raced after it. "COME BACK HERE! I need to know how to get Prue back before--" she stopped, staring at the shirtless man in front of her. "Uh, uh, uh--" He put a tanned, muscular hand beneath her chin, lifting it to meet his piercing blue eyes. "Phoebe," Leo said patiently, "we've been over this. I'm flattered that you think I'm still 'fine', but Piper's getting a little tired of washing drool off the furniture." He picked up the BOS. "What's going on? And why do you need to 'know how to get Prue back'?"
Phoebe clutched at the BOS. The grimoire shrieked as her fingers brushed the front cover.
"Ok, what did you do?"
"Why do you always blame me?! I mean, just because I couldn't even tell a human apart from a demon, that doesn't mean I'm stupid!" Phoebe howled, anguished. "I can have good ideas too!"
"Apparently your latest good idea, whatever it was, was capable of sending a four-hundred- year-old vessel of magical wisdom and power into an attack of the screaming meemies," Leo said, his teeth pressed together as his face turned an even more attractive shade of Belthazorlike reddish/burgundy. "Explanations, Phoebe, now..."
"Um. Well, we did this spell, to bring another person their heart's desire. It's almost Christmas, and this person, we wanted to give them something but we didn't know what they wanted most. The spell was supposed to lead us to it." Phoebe got her Statistics book out of its' hiding place in the freezer, and removed the socks. "But Prue just disappeared, and these were left behind."
"You traded your sister for a pair of socks?! Used socks??!"
"Can't you find her?"
Leo squeezed his eyes shut. Phoebe fell silent. She thought he needed to concentrate. In fact, Leo was faking it to get her to stop talking. He already could sense Prue.
"Why don't you go watch Kill It Before It Dies, Phoebe," he suggested kindly. Never argue with drunks, witches, or the terminally stupid...and don't ask me which one I'm thinking of here. "You've had a hard day. I'll take care of Prue. " He stretched, raising his arms over his head. Phoebe was mesmerized by the rippling manly muscles under his greasy, saw-dust covered T-shirt. "Yes, of course," she mumbled. She left. Leo heaved a sigh of relief and orbed. He appeared on a deserted ATOL landing strip. The surrounding countryside was covered with knee-deep snow.
"Leo! It's wonderful to see you." A portly, white-bearded gentleman hurried up to him. "I thought you wanted to wait until Christmas tomorrow, but I have that Xbox you asked for all wrapped and ready to go anytime," he said reassuringly. He squashed the Whitelighter in a bear hug. "Would you like the new version of the Ken doll too? We have extras," the old man whispered.
Leo gasped for air which he didn't need, having been dead for sixty years. It was a harder habit to break than smoking, he'd found.
"N-no, thank you. I'm here looking for one of my charges--"
"Hey, Leo!"
Prue was sitting in front of what appeared to be an igloo. She wore a fur coat, and a diamond necklace. A sullen-looking Inuit sat across from her.
"Now don't sulk, it's extremely unattractive. Really. You shouldn't have tried to beat me at Marco Polo. And no one told you to bet all this stuff that you'd win. Fair's fair."
He smiled, and shrugged. "That's true. And you didn't vanquish me when I thought you were a polar bear, and tried to shoot you, which I appreciate." The Inuit kissed her hand.
"Have a good Christmas, Prudence. I will dream of you forever, even though we only met five minutes ago." He scurried away, disappearing.
"Prue, what went wrong?" Leo asked.
"Phoebe cast this spell. Then I was fool enough to put on this pair of enchanted socks.... and it got me dropped off here. Wherever here is. Mr. Kringle has been very cordial but-- I'd like to get home.....so Icankillphoebe," Prue muttered under her breath.
"I'm sorry but I can't let you do that." Leo staggered slightly at the unexpected weight of his newly gained backbone.
"You're sorry? I'm the one who's standing wherever here is with nothing on my feet but used Cosmopolitan magazines!"
"We're at the North Pole. That happened for a reason. You must have some higher purpose for being sent here."
"I'm here because Phoebe's head was detached about ten years ago and SHE
HASN'T FIGURED IT OUT YET!"
"Magic does happen for a reason, my dear,"the strange rotund gentleman said. "You must be meant to help some poor, lonely child sitting alone somewhere with only a collection of Barney dolls and unlimited junk food to console her. Wait right here and I'll harness up my sleigh, while you and your guardian angel come up with a brilliant plan to save the world. Again."
"I'd better go consult with the elders, and with Prue's sisters," Leo suggested. "They might have some valuable information."
"Excellent, Leo! Go ahead. Prudence will be fine with me and Prancer."
Leo orbed away. Prue stared at the spot where he'd been, utterly speechless.
Leo appeared in the living room at the Manor, just as Piper entered.
"Hi, honey. " He kissed her. "How did it go at the club?"
"Oh, it was great! Have you seen Prue, or Phoebe? I tried to call, to ask them to get dinner started, but no one answered the phone."
"Phoebe's watching her favorite movie for the twenty-fifth time. Prue had a date. She won't be back until morning."
"A date? Did you meet the guy?"
"Yes. His name's Nicholas, he's only a little older than her, funny, kind, and he loves to see people smile, especially likes giving them presents. It's almost like a second job with him."
"Mmm, sounds good! So...we have the place to ourselves tonight ?" Piper gave him a smile hot enough to melt latex as she asked that question.
"Yes." Leo kissed her again. "Merry Christmas Eve," he whispered.
"Well, then, aren't you ....going to unwrap me?" she whispered back.
Kit crawled out from under the couch, giving Leo a knowing feline wink. Did it work? the familiar asked telepathically.
Yes, thanks. I owe you one for "knocking over" the scroll that held that wish-come-true spell.
And don't forget it! I want caviar. None of that Nine Lives gunk.
You've got it! For a night off without those two around, I'd rent you your own pond. But excuse me, I have to go open my 'present'... Leo swung Piper up in his arms, orbing to their room.
Merry Christmas to all....remember, turn out the light!