Disclaimer: The very fact that Phoebe is completely straight on the show is all the proof you need to know I own nothin'.
Warning: This is femslash, specifically Phoebe and a OFC. If you have a problem with the lady lovings, I suggest you go elsewhere.
A/N: There's a lot of dialogue from the show used. As the chapters continue, the amount of exact dialogue from the episodes well decrease.
Edit: 6/11/12
Two lovers lay asleep, entangled in white sheets, on a serene Sunday morning. The sun's warm rays peeked through the half-drawn curtains, waking the taller brunette. Startling green eyes grumpily squinted, before they were once again hidden beneath thin eyelids. Callused hands yanked at the covers, while the lanky body tried to turn over.
An indignant squeak escaped full lips as the smaller brunette was rudely tossed off her lover. Brown eyes opened and scowled at the now sleeping woman. "Damn it Ryan." She yanked the covers from her lover. She may have lost her pillow, but she'd be damned if she lost her blankets too.
A small tug-a-war took place between the partially awake women, until Ryan gave in with a huff and released the covers. The small brunette's triumph was shortly lived. "Fuck!" she shouted, her arms flailing, as her body came dangerously close to the edge of the bed. Her saving grace came in the form of a long arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her close to the sleep warmed body.
"You forgot to close the curtains, again," the woman grumpily informed her rescuer.
"I was tired, Phoebe," Ryan whimpered.
Phoebe sighed. It was impossible to stay mad at Ryan. It was like kicking a bent eared puppy. She wiggled against the strong body, her personal furnace... one of many reasons why she didn't understand why Ryan often stole the covers. The woman didn't need them! "It's fine. What time did you get home?"
"I tried to leave early, but a tip came in. The freaking thing didn't even pan out."
"What time did you get home?"
Ryan squirmed, well aware of the trouble she was about to get into. "Three," she mumbled.
"Three? Damn it Ryan." Phoebe propped herself on her elbow and looked down at the haggard woman. She cupped a sleep creased cheek and softly brushed her thumb beneath a heavy eye. "How am I supposed to be okay with leaving, when you don't even remember to take care of yourself when I'm here?"
"It's only a month." She hated the worried look in dark brown eyes. Why couldn't Phoebe just yell? She was used to that, but this tender worry... was painful, in its intensity.
"A lot can happen in a month, especially where it concerns you. God, I don't want to go," Phoebe whined, flopping down on their mattress and snuggling close to her lover.
Ryan kissed her forehead and didn't bother pulling away. "I don't want you to go, but you need too. It's what your grandmother wanted."
"Why can't I just wait 'till next month, when you can go with me?"
"Because," the city girl drawled, "you already told Piper you'd be there tonight."
Phoebe pouted, "It's not fair."
"Sadly, life often isn't." The two women laid in silence; the younger one's eyes growing heavy with sleep. Ryan sighed after noticing the time. She hated being responsible. "Phoebe we need to get up. There's still some packing to do."
"They won't even notice if I don't show up. It's not like we're close," she reasoned. Waiting a month wouldn't change anything in the greater scheme.
"It's what your grandmother wanted. You owe her that much at least, for all that she's done."
"I know." She had put her grams through Hell, during her teenager years. Who was she kidding? She put her grams through Hell, until the day she died. It wasn't until it was too late to say thank you, that she yearned to thank the woman, who not only spent her life raising her mother but raising her sisters and her, as well.
Ryan gave her a comforting squeeze. "If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't be here."
"What?"
The detective shrugged. "If things didn't happen exactly like they did, our paths wouldn't have crossed."
"They would have crossed."
"Maybe, but whose to say they would have crossed in the same way that led to this?" She tucked an unruly curl behind her lover's ear.
"We're meant to be," she said with conviction. "Every path would have lead to this."
Ryan smiled. "I like that idea, but there's no way to know that."
"You'll just have to take it on faith."
"Whatever you say. We really need to get up and finish packing. We're going to have to leave for the airport soon."
Reluctantly, Phoebe rolled away from her personal furnace and hissed when her bare feet hit the cold hard wood. "This day already sucks."
Looking around the partially packed room, Ryan decided the rest of the packing could wait. Her arm snaked out to wrap around Phoebe and pull the younger woman back to bed. "I can't have you leaving bed unhappy. It's bad for my reputation."
"What did you have in mind?"
"A little bit of this and a little bit of that." Her whisper trailed off as the two lovers' lips met in a tender kiss.
"Sounds perfect."
~ooOoo~
Their hearts grew heavier, while the airport drew closer. When the time came to exit the car, their steps were slow and weighted, and the only sounds were the sharp thump of the car doors and the dull thump of Phoebe's luggage hitting the asphalt.
Their arms brushed, as they walked into the crowded airport, where the air was thick with sweat and coffee. Briefly, they parted for Phoebe to check in her luggage and get her ticket.
Throwing her carry-on over her shoulder and stuffing her ticket in her back pocket, Phoebe turned away from the desk and bitchy clerk (or whatever you call them) and searched the crowds for her other half. She grinned when she spotted her grumpy brunette, sitting on one of the hard, plastic, hideously blue chairs that afforded the cop a clear view of her. Long legs were stretched out to claim a good portion of the tiled floor, and tan arms were crossed, in an unsubtle way that screamed stay the fuck away. It was like having six feet and some change of pouting child. She sped up her steps and weaved through the crowd, like a real New Yorker. Her grin grew, as Ryan jumped up to join her. Quickly, the cop took control of her carry-on and claimed her hand in a move that could only be called possessive.
"You doing okay?"
Green eyes scanned the airport. "I'm fine Phoebe."
Phoebe stepped closer, silently giving support to the semi-crowd-phobic brunette. "I'll miss you."
"It's only a month."
The smaller woman nudged her girlfriend's shoulder. "Won't you miss me?"
Broad shoulder's shrugged. "Kinda."
Phoebe narrowed her eyes and slapped the earlier nudged arm. "Ryan!"
The brunette chuckled, before green eyes grew serious and focused on the indignant woman. "I'll miss you, baby girl."
"I wish you were coming with me."
"Me too." Her eyes turned to the long lines of people waiting to pass under the metal detector. "You need to get going." She pulled the smaller woman into a hug. "I love you."
Phoebe sniffed. "Love you too."
"Only a month."
"Has that become your motto?" Phoebe questioned as she pulled away.
"Yep," she chirped with false cheer.
"I'll call you every day."
Ryan carefully let Phoebe's carry-on drop to the floor and reached out to grab Phoebe's hips to pull the other woman to her. Phoebe wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's neck and tilted her head upward in anticipation.
Their lips met and ever so slowly parted. "I love you, Ry."
The crooked smile that had made her heart stutter at first sight made a quick appearance on her lover's angular face. "I love you, too." Reluctantly, Ryan pushed Phoebe away and handed over the carry-on. "Call me when you land."
"I will."
~ooOoo~
Sighing, Phoebe rested her head against the taxi's window, letting her mind wonder (as it had been since the plane) to her lover. Her eyes slid closed, where images of their first encounter awaited her.
-x-X-x-
"God damn it, Phoebe! Hurry your ass up!" Becka shouted, pounding on the bathroom door. "You got three minutes then I'm leaving your skinny ass!"
Phoebe yanked the bathroom door open. "I'm done!" She shoved her friend to the side and snatched up her black, club heels. "You'd think the world's ending the way you're going on."
"Screw you."
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Phoebe purred. Laughing, she sprinted for the apartment door, twisting to avoid Becka's threatening hands.
With a little show of leg and a bit of cleavage, the two women were quickly encased inside the humid, musky New York cab.
"This better be worth it," Phoebe grumbled, while searching through her small clasp for her allusive lipstick.
"Eddie, says it's cool."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't this the same guy who sold your underwear to the chess team?"
"He was twelve," Becka defended her little brother. "Besides, I got half the proceeds. Now, stop complaining. It's not like your going to have to pay for anything."
"True."
Splitting the fair between the two, the two friends jumped from the cab. Even though the ride had saved their calves from an early retirement, their noses were severely punished.
"Eddie better be at the door," Phoebe growled, eying the humungous line with a disgusted eye. Her shoes were made for dancing, not standing.
"He's there." She pointed to the taller of the two bouncers and grabbed her friend's arm. "Come on!"
Phoebe allowed herself to be pulled along by her excitable friend. It paid to know people... even if they are a bit crazy.
"Got room for two more?"
The tall blonde smiled. "Of course, sis." His stubbly cheeks reddened. "Hi, Phoebe."
"Hey, Eddie." Phoebe smiled and offered, "If you can get away tonight, find me. I'll be saving you a dance." It was only fair. Plus, the boy was kinda cute, in the boy-next-door kinda way.
Blushing scarlet, the young man shuffled his feet and lifted the red velvet rope. "Thanks. Be careful in there," he cautioned.
The two women paused inside the door of the club, adjusting to the steady bump beneath their feet. "Grab a table! I'll get drinks!" Becka yelled, over the thumping music.
Phoebe rubbed her abused ear. She hated when Becka screamed. The damn woman had a set of lungs on her.
Looking around the crowded club, Phoebe groaned. She would rather be the one fighting the crowd for drinks than the one fighting the crowd for prime seating. People get vicious when drunk and hot, not to mention sexually frustrated. Weaving through the crowd, Phoebe headed to the back. Maybe, she'd get lucky and find an empty table. Shit, she'd take a table with a creeper at it, if it got her a seat.
Way in the back in a corner almost too dark to see, the polished silver of a table shined. She sped up, hoping to grab the table, before one of the other patrons. She halted a few feet away, when her eyes had adjusted enough to see the hunched figure at the table. "Fuck," she whispered. This had been her last hope. All the other tables she had passed had been full.
Her feet- without her mind's consent- shuffled her closer to the table. "Excuse me!" Her mouth betrayed her, too.
Her breath hitched, when the greenest eyes she had ever seen, trained on her. A sandy brow arched in silent question.
"Can I join you?" Her toes crossed, echoing the movement of her fingers behind her back. When the much anticipated consent came, it took every ounce of tenuous control she had to stop herself from doing a victory dance. "Thank you!" She leaped for the empty chair beside the hunched figure.
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" Becka shouted.
Phoebe jumped at the unexpected shout. She had forgotten that she had arrived with the redhead. "Sorry."
The smaller woman rolled her eyes, setting the extra beer in front of the younger woman. "Whatever. Whose your new friend?"
Phoebe blushed. She hadn't even bothered to ask the woman her name. Where had her manners gone? She shrugged and reluctantly admitted, "Don't know."
Becka playfully slapped Phoebe's shoulder. "So rude." She turned to the other occupant of the table and offered a dainty hand that was used to expensive lotion and routine manicures. "I'm Becka and the impolite brute is Phoebe."
Phoebe scowled, as her friend's hand was engulfed by the much larger one. It should have been her hand. She met the woman first, and they had a deal: first come, first serve. Phoebe's thoughts came to a screeching halt. First come, first serve? Since when did that apply to the female population? They weren't... she wasn't... you know... that way. Not that there was anything wrong being that way, mind you. It just wasn't her.
"Ryan."
Oh God, the way her body reacted to that soft voice provided a good amount of evidence that she was that way. She took a large gulp of her beer. This wasn't happening, and damn it, she wasn't fighting the urge to touch Ryan!
x-X-x
"Miss, we're here," the taxi driver's smoke roughened voice ripped her from her reminiscence. Looking back, she couldn't help but laugh at her feeble attempts to deny her attraction to Ryan. She should have known when she crossed her fingers and toes. She hadn't done that since she was a child, wishing for Santa to bring her mother back for Christmas.
She handed over a couple bills to the aged driver and stepped out with her bags in hand and the cheap airport umbrella offering some protection from the downpour. "Keep the change."
The abrupt hiccup of the taxi leaving echoed through the still night, as Phoebe stood at the bottom of the pathway of the opposing manor. She never thought she'd be back, not after the falling out with Prue. God, that had been a fuck fest. Like she ever would have slept with that thing, even if he wasn't her sister's fiance. Dead man walking, she thought while she marched up the concrete steps and to the front door, where she squared her shoulders- with a confidence she didn't feel- and slid the key- found under the usual rock- into the lock. She pushed the heavy wooden door open while- I wish Ryan was here- ran through her head on repeat.
"Surprise! I found the hide a key." She raised said key for emphasis and plastered on a false smile.
"Phoebe, welcome home." The youngest sister cringed at Piper's overly cheerful voice, but non-the-less accepted the brief hug. Pulling back, Phoebe looked to her oldest sister- who stood at the bottom of the stairs with her arms stubbornly crossed- and offered an awkward semi-wave.
"Is that all that you brought?"
"That's all that I own, that and a bike." She was tempted to add the heart of a wonderful woman to her list of possessions, but Ryan was too valuable to use for shock value in one of her and Prue's quarrels. "Look I know you don't want me here-"
Prue stepped toward Phoebe. Her arms still crossed. "We're not selling grams' house."
"Is that why you think I came back?"
"The only reason that Piper and I gave up our apartments is because this house has been in our family for generations," she lectured.
Phoebe was getting pissed. Even after all this time, Prue still saw her as an immature child that needed to be scolded. She deserved the chance to show she had changed. "No, need for the history lesson. I grew up here too." And really? If it wasn't for grams wanting her here, she would have happily remained in New York, with her girlfriend.
Piper's smile faltered. "I have a great idea. Why don't I make a fabulous reunion dinner?"
"I'm not hungry." Prue abruptly turned on her heels and left her sisters for parts unknown.
"I ate on the plane," Phoebe declined. She grabbed her bags and headed to her childhood room.
~ooOoo~
It was so tempting to call Ryan again, even if she was only able to hear her voice mail. She could go hours without talking to Ryan (the older woman's job often demanded it) but that was when she knew she'd be seeing Ryan soon. Now with a month wait ahead of her, Phoebe wanted nothing more than to call her lover and not let the woman off the phone until she was boarding her plane to San Francisco.
A soft rapt on her door made her choice. She mentally chuckled as a food laden Piper entered. Some things never change. The sun would rise, the sun would set, and Piper would offer comfort with food. Flopping on her bed, she motioned for the middle Halliwell sister to join her.
"Oh, thank God. I'm starving."
Piper laughed. "Figured." A familiar voice sounded from the television and drew her attention. "Hey, that's my boyfriend Jeremy. What happened?" She made a mental note to call her journalist boyfriend.
"Oh, some woman got whacked."
"Whacked? Phoebe, you've been in New York too long."
"Yeah, I should have stayed." Then I would be snug in bed, waiting for Ryan to come home. "Why didn't you tell Prue I was coming back?"
"And risk her changing the locks? I don't think so." She turned off the television. "Besides, you should have been the one to tell her not me."
Phoebe nibbled on her baby carrot. She always had a strange liking for the orange vegetable. "Good point, Chicken Little. It's just so hard for me to talk to her. She always been more like a mother."
"That's not her fault. She practically had to sacrifice her own," At this point Phoebe joined in on the familiar conversation, "childhood to help raise us."
"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah." She took another bite of her carrot.
"Hey, we were lucky. We had it easy. All we had to do was be there."
"Yeah. Well, I don't need a mom anymore. I need a sister." It was at this point that a pajama clad Prue knocked on the open door with blankets in hand.
"Hey, this was always the coldest room in the house." She laid the blankets on the chair by the door.
"Thanks." Prue left without another word.
Piper sighed. The coming days were going to be interesting. Without doubt, they would be filled with her mediating one argument or another between her sisters. "You finished eating?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Come on." She tugged her sister out of bed and lead her down stairs.
"What are we doing?"
"Prue found our old spirit board in the basement when she was looking for the circuit tester."
"To my three beautiful girls. May this give you the light to find the shadows. The power of three will set you free. Love, mom," Phoebe recited. She had spent a lot of time with that spirit board in her younger years. There was always a small flicker of hope that the pointer would move and give her the answer she so desperately sought. "We never did figure out what she meant."
"The unsolvable mystery of a parent's mind."
"So true. Will Prue be joining us?"
"She has some work she needs to finish. She has a meeting first thing in the morning."
"Still the same old Prue." Jumping over the last two steps, Phoebe poked her sister, "You're still a terrible liar Piper."
"I don't have the experience you do."
The youngest Halliwell smirked. "Really? I thought you told me you have a special man friend. I can give you a few pointers if needed, even suggest a few 'informative' videos."
Piper playfully slapped her sister's arm, stubbornly ignoring the blush she could feel creeping up her neck. "His name is Jeremy, and you know that's not what I meant. Now, go sit down and stay out of trouble. I'm going to go get some popcorn."
"Don't put salt on it!" Phoebe yelled.
"Don't breath!" She poked her head out of the kitchen. "Why don't you ask the spirits," she pointed to the spirit board, "to help you with that?" She fully retreated in to the kitchen, leaving Phoebe behind to roll her eyes. Why was it that no matter your age, when you put siblings together they reverted to childish behavior?
"I'll ask them to make you stop breathing," Phoebe mumbled. She grabbed the spirit board off the dinning room table,carried it to the parlor, and set it on the small table that resided there. With the large windows, it was the perfect place to watch the raging storm.
Her mind turned with ideas to ask the spirit board. Would Prue ever let her explain what happened with her jackass ex? Which one of her sisters rated her out to grams in fifth grade? Would the move to San Francisco blow up in her face?When would Ryan pop the question? How would her sisters react to her lesbian revelation? Would Ryan be killed on the job?
She rested her fingertips on the pointer. Would Ryan be killed on the job? When it failed to move, she huffed. It was a stupid idea. It never worked when she was a kid. Why would it work now when it really mattered?
The sudden movement of the cold wood beneath her fingers had her heart pounding painfully in her chest. "Piper! Piper get in her!"
"What?"
Prue appeared from around the corner. "What did you guys do now?"
"Me?" Piper asked offended. "I didn't do anything."
"The pointer on the spirit bored, it moved on its own." Her sisters shared a look. The look. "I'm serious. It spelled A – T." Ryan would believe her. Well, she would have indulged her.
"Well, did you push it?" Piper asked.
"No."
"You always used to push the pointer," Prue argued.
"My fingers were barely touching it." She lowered her hands to the pointer. "Look." Seconds passed and nothing happened. Prue and Piper turned to leave and missed the quick movement of the pointer. "It did it again. It moved." Her sisters looked at her; their disbelief was clear. Prue looked at the bored.
"It's still on the letter T."
"I swear it moved." The pointer moved again, but of course Prue had already left. Phoebe pushed herself away from the table.
"There look." She pointed accusingly to the moving pointer. Let's try and see Piper deny that. "You saw that right?"
"I think so, yeah."
"I told you I wasn't touching it."
"Prue!" Piper yelled for her older sister. Wooden pointers were not supposed to move by themselves. "Can you come in here a sec?" Phoebe grabbed for the pen and envelope near by.
The soft thump of bear feet echoed down the hall. "Now what?"
Phoebe's voice wobbled. "I think it's trying to tell us something." She turned the stark white paper around and showed her sisters the five letters that the pointer had pointed to. "Attic." The house lights flickered. Only the bright, unsteady light of lightening remained.
"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Prue demanded as she trailed after a quickly moving Piper. "We are perfectly safe here."
"Don't say that. In horror movies, the person who says that is always the next to die."
"It's pouring rain. There's a psycho on the lose." The same case of violent stabbings that Piper's boyfriend was following. "Jeremy's not even home."
"So, I'll, I'll wait in the cab, until he gets home from work." She shrugged her coat on over her pajamas.
"That'll be cheap."
"Prue! I saw that pointer move."
"No what you saw was Phoebe's fingers pushing the pointer." She threw her hands up in frustration. "There's nothing in the attic. She's playing a joke on us."
"We don't know that. We've lived in this house for months now, and we've never been able to get that attic door open." She picked up the house phone, having every intention of calling Jeremy. "Great. Now, the phone doesn't work."
"Yeah, the power's out. Look, just go with me to the basement."
"What?" That's it. Her sister's crazy. Powers out, storms raging, and spirit pointers are moving. You don't go to the basement!
"I need you to hold the flashlight, while I check out the main circuit box." It was at this time that the absent Phoebe returned, with flashlight in hand.
"Phoebe," Piper eagerly pointed to the younger Halliwell. "Will go with you to the basement. Won't you Phoebe?"
"Nope, I'm going to the attic."
"No, you're not. We already agreed."
"I am not waiting for some handyman to check out the attic, and I'm certainly not waiting until tomorrow. I am going." Stubbornly, she headed up the stairs.
"Prue, wait!" Piper chased after her sister.
Up the stairs, Phoebe was cautiously approaching the attic door. She even peered around the corner, just like Ryan had taught her. Truthfully though, Ryan had always told her if she suspected anything even remotely dangerous that she needed to get the Hell of dodge. She decided right then and there to omit this small adventure from her lover.
The cold metal of the brass knob turned easily beneath her fingers, yet the door remained unwaveringly shut. She pushed with her shoulder. The people on the television always made it look so easily. Obviously, their bones were made of lead, because that slight push caused some discomfort. Dejected, she turned away. Great. She was going to have to wait for the handyman.
She made it down two steps, before the crisp click of a door unlocking, followed by the slow creak of an opening door sounded behind her. Her palms grew slick against the, now warmed, metal of her flashlight.
The attic was filled with a multitude of abandoned chairs and nick-knacks, but it was an intricately carved wooden chest that had been lighted by a flash of lightening that drew her eyes. She opened the dusty chest, pulling out the book that laid on top. It was heavy in her hands, yet weirdly belonged. She shut the chest to use it as an impromptu chair and blew off the dust that blanketed the green book. The Book of Shadows ~1693~, greeted her tired eyes. She flipped the thick page, and unwittingly read the small chant out loud:
"Hear now the words of the witches.
The secrets we hid in the night the oldest of gods are evoked here.
The great work of magic is sought.
In this night and in this hour I call upon the ancient power.
Bring your power to these sisters three.
We want the power. Give us the power."
"What are you doing?" Her heart skipped at the sudden appearance of her sisters.
"Ah, reading," She shut the book and stood. "An incantation. It was in this book of shadows. I found it in that trunk."
Prue took the book from her, while Piper questioned, "How did you get in here?"
"The door opened."
"Wait a minute. An incantation? What kind of incantation?" Her hands found her hips. Not even here a day and Phoebe managed to get into something.
"It said something about there being three essentials of magic: timing, feeling, and the phases of the moon. If we were ever going to do this, now- midnight on a full moon- is the most powerful time."
"Do what?"
"Receive our powers." It sounded better in her head.
"What powers? Wait. Our powers? You included me in this?"
"No, she included all of us," Prue corrected. "Bring your powers, to us sisters three. It's a book of witchcraft." Prue's jaw clinched. This was just like Phoebe.
"Let me see that." Piper took the book from the oldest Halliwell.
~ooOoo~
While she lay in bed that night with the occasional boom of thunder shaking the manor, her mind was eerily drawn back to the book. She couldn't deny the desire to read further, to uncover the secrets that the book no doubt held. Grinning at the thought of an adventure, Phoebe slid out of bed and headed to the attic.
~ooOoo~
The following day was a different world. The sun was out in full force as if trying to make up for the previous turbulent night. Phoebe sat on the porch, coffee cup in hand, idly watching as people came out from their homes only to be surrounded by the metal of their cars as they speed off to work.
"You're up early," Piper noted from behind her, where she was shuffling her large bag and coat.
"I never went to sleep."
"Don't tell me you put on a black conical hat and spent the night flying around the neighborhood on a broom stick." Piper took a seat on the warmed metal of the porch stairs, beside her younger sister.
"The only broom I've ever had was kept inside a closet beside a mop." She sipped her coffee.
"So what were you doing?"
"Reading. Is Prue around?"
"She went to work early. Reading. Aloud?"
Phoebe rolled her eyes. "No, but according to the Book of Shadows one of our ancestors was a witch named Melinda Warren."
"And we have a cousin who's a drunk, an aunt who's manic, and a father who's invisible." Piper stood up and headed for her car. She couldn't afford to be late today of all days.
"I'm serious." Phoebe followed after her. "She practiced powers. Three powers. She could move objects with her mind, see the future, and stop time. Before Melinda was burned at the stake, she vowed that each generation of Warren witches would become stronger and stronger, culminating in the arrival of three sisters. Now these sisters would be the most powerful witches the world has ever known. They're good witches, and I think we're those sisters."
"Look, I know what happened last night was weird and unexplainable, but we are not witches and we do not have special powers. Besides, grams wasn't a witch and as far as we know neither was mom." Piper pressed a quick kiss to Phoebe's cheek. "So take that Nancy Drew."
"We're the protectors of the innocents. We're known as the Charmed Ones," Phoebe sing-songed as her sister drove off.
She sat back on the concrete steps and sipped at her cooling coffee and lost herself in memories. If she was in New York, she would still be in bed wrapped tightly in her lover's arms. They were always slow to rise when Ryan worked the night shift. It wasn't uncommon for them to lounge around in bed for hours whether they were nibbling on breakfast or more sinful desserts. The warm thoughts made her painfully aware of how cold she was in reality, even with the sun gallantly trying to warm her. Sighing, she looked around the deserted street. At one time, this neighborhood had been her whole world. She knew of nothing else and was content in her small haven. A rueful smile formed. That had all changed when she became a teenager and gained the need to experience the adventures the big world freely gave. She quickly learned it wasn't what she expected, but she was too stubborn- too prideful- to admit she had been wrong.
She wondered if her grams would have been proud of whom she became. She wasn't the success Prue was or had the drive to succeed like Piper, but she had a will to live. That had seemed to be important to her grams. Fondly, she remembered the time a proud smile had formed on that beloved weathered face. She had been about six. She hadn't done anything great like discover the cure for cancer or even something as simple as bringing home a one-hundred on her spelling test. No, all she had done was climb back on her bike after falling and continued on, not stopping for tears.
In the present, she laughed as an idea formed. She headed back into her childhood home. Her empty cup found its way in the sink, and her shoes found their way on her feet.
It had been many years since she had pedaled down the streets of her childhood home, but not much had changed. The wind still felt good blowing through her hair; her legs still had the slight burn from the repetitive motion; and her mind was emptied of all thoughts. Her eyes roamed happily over the familiar houses and trees. God, she had missed this. There was an innocence about these streets that New York's crowded roads did not have. There was only one thing New York held that San Francisco could not offer her... at least not for, some weeks. The days would pass slowly, but soon Ryan would be there with her. That's what mattered.
Abruptly, the world became devoid of color.
She helplessly watched as a young boy, who was rollerblading with his friend, was hit by a car. She cringed at the harsh sound of the small body smashing into the windshield.
Color rushed back.
"Oh God," she whispered, her eyes frantically searching the street. Her heart beat madly as she spotted the car and the boy- the two haven't yet to meet.
The boy's laughed made it obvious that he was oblivious to the danger he was in. His padded legs pumped faster, bringing him closer and closer into the oncoming car's path.
She yelled. Watching once, as the boy's body was thrown in the air only to crash down, had been enough. She only hoped Ryan would forgive her.
She pedaled faster.
She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't the all consuming darkness that descended on her immediately after she placed herself between the boy and car.
~ooOoo~
When she managed to climb her way up from the darkness, her body ached, and her head pounded. Long fingers brushed against her forehead. "Ry'nn?" She incoherently whimpered.
"You're up." The hand was quickly withdrawn.
Prue. She was in San Francisco not New York. It was Prue's touch, not Ryan's. "What happened?"
"You were hit by a car." She forced her eyes opened and winced as the bright light of the hospital made her head pound harder. "The doctor said you have some bruising, but they see no reason to keep you overnight. They did gave me a prescription for you, though."
Phoebe sighed in relief. She hated hospitals. The smells, the sounds, the grief that perfumed the hallways set her teeth on edge. "Good." With Prue's help, she managed to stand, fill out the needed paperwork, and make it to her sister's car.
"Do you think we could stop by Quake for a drink?" She really needed a drink. Ryan was going to freak when she found out what happened.
"I could use a drink." Or a couple, after quitting her job and running into Andy.
~ooOoo~
"The Chosen Ones? The Charmed Ones? Phoebe this is insane."
"Are you telling me that nothing strange happened to you today. You didn't freeze time or move anything?"
"Roger took an exhibit away from me." Phoebe sighed and looked away. They shouldn't have bothered coming to Quake. She should have known Prue wouldn't listen to her. "Alright, look Phoebe. I know that you think you can see the future, which is pretty ironic."
"Since, you don't think I have one. That my vision of life is cloudy compared to your perfect Hell. Even if you don't want to believe me, just once can't you trust me?"
"Phoebe, I do not have special powers. Now where is the cream?"
The grating sound of cheap metal sliding across glossed wood drew the sisters' attention. Phoebe watched triumphantly, as the pitcher of cream slid to her sister. "Really? That looks pretty special to me."
"Oh my God. So, um... I can move things with my mind?"
"With how much you hold inside, you should be a lethal weapon by now."
The oldest Halliwell rubbed her forehead. She could feel the start of a major migraine forming. "I don't believe it."
"This must mean that Piper can freeze time."
Prue abandoned her coffee and took her sister's scotch and downed it in one go. "Are you okay?" Maybe they should have went directly home from the hospital. Last thing they needed was for Prue to lose control of her new powers in a crowded restaurant.
"No, I am not okay. You turned me into a witch."
"You were born one. We all were, and I think we better start learning to deal with that."
~ooOoo~
Night had fallen by the time the sisters had left Quake.
"When I was looking through the Book of Shadows," Phoebe informed her sister, as they walked to Prue's car, "I saw these wood carvings. All these terrifying images of three women battling different incarnations of evil."
"Evil fighting evil, that's a twist."
"Actually, a witch can be either good or evil. A good witch follows a wican creed: harm none, do what you will. A bad witch or a warlock has but one goal: to kill good witches and obtain their powers. Unfortunately, they look like regular people. They could be anyone, anywhere."
"And this has what to do with us?"
"Well in the first wood carving, they were in a slumber, but in the second one, they were battling some kind of warlock. I think as long as we were in the dark about our powers, we were safe. Not anymore."
~ooOoo~
The pharmacist took Phoebe's script. "I'll be right back with your prescription."
"Excuse me." Prue stopped him. "Where do you keep your aspirin?"
"Uh, aisle three."
"Thank you."
"Tea works great for headaches," Phoebe called after her retreating sister.
"For this one it won't."
"You know. I'm not afraid of my powers. I mean everyone inherits something from their family, right?"
"Yeah, money, antiques, a strong deposition. That's what normal people inherit," Prue snapped. Her headache grew. Where is the damn aspirin?
"Who wants to me normal, when you can be special?"
"I want to be normal. I want my life to be- You know isn't this aisle three?" She rubbed her forehead, trying to hold her migraine back.
"Well, we can't change what happened. We can't undo our destiny."
"Do you see any aspirin?"
"I see tea," Phoebe chirped, earning a glare from the black clad Halliwell.
"Look, I have just found out I'm a witch, that my sisters are witches, and that we have powers that will apparently unleash all forms of evil. Evil that is apparently going to come looking for us. So excuse me Phoebe, but I'm not exactly in a homeopathic mood right now."
"Then move your headache out of your mind."
Prue's glare intensified. Why was she the one who had to pick Phoebe up from the hospital? She should have known that her sister was too stubborn to be seriously hurt. God damn it. All she wanted was some aspirin. Was that too fucking much to want?
The desired white and yellow bottle flew into her hands, slapping against her small, black purse.
Phoebe pointed a knowing finger at her sister. "You move things when you're upset."
"This is ridiculous. I thought that you landed on your arm not your head."
"You don't believe me."
"Of course I don't believe you." Prue's voice raised, only the public setting stopping her from completely losing it.
Phoebe crossed her arms and smiled. "Roger," she sang. Four bottles flew from the shelf. "Now let's talk about dad and see what happens."
"He's dead Phoebe."
"No. He's moved from New York, but he's very much alive."
"He isn't to me. He died the day he left mom."
"What are you talking about? He's always been a major button pusher for you. You're mad he's alive; you're mad I tried to find him, and you're mad that I came back. Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, dad."
There was a loud roar as every bottle and box of aisle three crashed to the tiled floor.
"Feel better?"
A small smile bloomed. "Lots."
"The Book of Shadows said our powers would grow."
"Grow to what?" Prue's eyes scanned the covered floor. Sharing a look, the two sister snorted then broke out in laughter.
It felt good. For the first time in years, the two sisters weren't on different sides, preparing to battle each other. Finally, they were united. United, by the unusual and unplanned powers they had been gifted.
~ooOoo~
Home, the sisters searched the Manor for the middle Halliwell.
"Piper's defiantly not home, unless she's turned into a cat," Prue stated while she let the white cat jump from her arms.
"How did the cat get in?" It was cute though.
"I don't know. Someone must have left a window open. Did Piper leave a message?"
"She's probably out with Jeremy. Roger called." She pointed to the answering machine.
Prue rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I heard."
Before the two sisters, could get in another fight about that worthless ass, Piper came running through the front door. "Prue!"
"Piper?"
"Oh my God, what is it? What's wrong?" Prue questioned as the sisters moved closer.
"Quick lock the doors, check the windows. We don't have a lot of time." Piper grabbed Phoebe's hands and demanded, "in the Book of Shadows did it say how to get rid of a-"
"Warlock?" Phoebe finished.
"Oh my God."
~ooOoo~
Locking the last window, Prue stormed out of the room, informing Piper, "I'm calling the cops."
Piper chased after her. "And tell them that we're witches and that some freak with powers beyond comprehension is trying to kill us. Even if the cops did come, they'd be no match for Jeremy, and we'd be next."
The two sisters were interrupted by their third. "I found the answer. It's our only hope. Come on." She raced back up the stairs to the attic with her sisters following.
Minutes later saw the three Halliwells sat around a low round table, with the Book of Shadows open in between them. "Okay, we've placed the nine candles, anointed with the oils and spices, in a circle."
"Wait. I only count eight," Piper spoke.
"Oh, you forgot this one." Phoebe held up the small candle.
Piper's eyes widened with disbelief. "A birthday candle?"
"I guess grams was low on witch supplies." Phoebe lit the pink and white candle.
"Alright. Next, we need the puppet." Prue moved things on. They didn't know how close Jeremy was to them.
"Got it." Piper held up the light brown puppet and reached for the rose that lay by their makeshift cauldron. She pressed the thorn stem against the abdomen of the puppet and begin to recite the spell Phoebe had found:
"Your love will wither and depart from my life and my heart.
Let me be Jeremy and go away forever."
She threw puppet and rose into the large brass bowl. "Okay, the spell is complete."
"Let's hope it works."
Before the sisters eyes a thick smoke rose from the bowl, bubbling, and culminating into an explosion that shocked them. They let out a relieved laugh and stood, eager to leave this mess behind and pretend it never happened. Phoebe smiled at the backs of retreating sisters backs. In time, they'd learn to love the magic as she had quickly learned. She grabbed for the bowl, hoping it would be simple to wash.
"Wait!" she shouted after her sisters, as a familiar black and white world retreated from her vision. "It didn't work."
"What?"
"The spell. It didn't work."
"How do you know?"
"When I touched the pot, I had a flash. I saw Jeremy."
"You touched the pot, and you saw him?" Prue was hoping they'd have a little more than a flash to go on. There wasn't much one could do with a flash.
"He's on his way here."
The three sisters dropped candles and bowl and ran out of the attic. If he was coming to them, they'd make sure they wouldn't be there for him.
Prue yanked open the stained glass door, her eyes focused on her following sisters, making sure they were closed behind. She flinched as their screams filled her ears and whipped around to look behind her. There stood Jeremy a knife in hand and thorns bursting through his skin.
"Hello, ladies." Slowly, he stepped forward, a twisted smirk contorting his face.
A flick of dark eyes sent Jeremy flying."Get out of here. Get out of here now!" Prue ordered her sisters, protectively pushing them to the stairs.
He was quickly back on his feet. "Cute parlor trick, bitch. Yeah, you were always the tough one weren't you Prue?" He went flying again. This time Prue didn't wait for him to stand. She ran for the attic, praying that her sisters had found something to help them.
"Get things against the door!" was Piper's only solution. An old dresser was the first to be pushed, followed by a two-by-four and a chair.
Their hearts pounded painfully in their chest as the door bowed unnaturally under the force of Jeremy's hits.
"You think a chair can stop me?" The warlock's demonic voice sounded through the small attic, as said furniture went flying. "You think a dresser can stop me? Haven't you witches figured it out? Nothing. Nothing! Can keep me away."
"What do we do. We're trapped?"
"Come on. We're face them together." Prue rallied her sisters. "You remember the spirit bored?"
"The inscription on the back!"
"The power of three will set us free," Prue started.
A flick of a thick wrist sent fire flying from the dagger to surround the sisters in a circle of flames.
"Come on. We've got to say it together." Prue grabbed her sisters hands' and held them by her side. "The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free. The power of three will set us free," they chanted. The air around them begin to whip violently against them, the flames a thing of the past.
"I am not the only one," the warlock cackled. "I am one of millions, in places you can't even imagine, in forms you won't believe. We are Hell on this earth. You will never be safe, and you will never be freeeee!" A bright light surrounded the bloodied man.
The sisters stared in shock as the once thought human exploded.
"The power of three," Prue said quietly.
~ooOoo~
Exhausted, Phoebe made her way to her bedroom. She slipped into her pajamas, much too tired to shower, and collapsed on her bed. Blindly, she reached for the old phone on her nightstand and dialed the eleven digits that would connect her to her lover.
"Green," was barked into her ear.
Her eyes closed. She could picture her irritated lover on the line, silently cursing whoever had interrupted her train of thought. "Hey sweetie."
"Phoebe." Her name was softly sighed, a caress and a prayer. "Why are you calling so late? You should be asleep."
She squinted at the flashing read lights: 1: 38. "I..." She couldn't tell Ryan over the phone. The older woman would be on the first flight out. Phoebe knew Ryan would say her career was a small price to pay for her comfort, but she knew what the job meant to Ryan, and she wouldn't be the one responsible for taking that away from her lover.
"Phoebe?" The detective's voice was thick with worry. "Baby girl? What's wrong?"
"I just need to hear your voice." There was a pregnant pause while Phoebe figured Ryan was fighting against her natural urge to demand answers so she could fix whatever was wrong.
"What do you want me to talk about?"
"Anything. Everything. Just talk."
"I met this girl."
"Should I be jealous?"
"Defiantly," Ryan drawled. "I'm starting to think she's a goddess in corporal form. It's the only explanation."
"Really?"
"Yep. She's perfection."
"How so?"
"Her eyes. God. Her eyes. It's not natural how my heart beats, just so I can get another glimpse of those chocolate depths."
Phoebe blushed. "Ryan-"
"Shush, woman. I'm not done. Now where was I? Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Her lips. Good golly Ms. Molly. Her lips. They're softer than the richest silk. They've become my addiction."
"Real smooth Green." She wrapped her blankets tighter around her and pressed the phone closer to her ear.
"Hey, you're the one who asked. Now, will you listen? I have a lot more to talk about. There's her voice, her laugh, her touch..."
Phoebe smiled into the darkness and let Ryan's voice lead her into a calm sleep.
