Well hey there, again. Look! An update on time, without any internet failure! –cheers- Hey, there's a movie on Lifetime tonight with Kaley Cuoco! Is anybody going to watch it? It's called "To Be Fat Like Me." It's a documentary, and it sounds really interesting. Kaley said it was a relief to get out of the "ditzy blonde role." Course, I'm only watching it because she's so darn cute, to be honest. XD On with the story!

It had been a week since Billie left, and the sisters had done everything they could to find her,-Paige even resorted to just calling her cell phone, just in case- but nothing was working. It seemed that if Billie didn't want to be found, there was nothing they could do about it.

7x7x7x

Billie had hopped the first bus out of the city. Using her projection power with her money trouble, she got to Los Angeles with little difficulty. She tried to get further but she decided that the sisters would assume she went far away and wouldn't search for her in the same state.

She looked for a cheap apartment for three days, contenting to sleep lightly on park benches and in back alleys, once she was sure she was alone. One the fourth night, she was awakened by low whispers and chuckles. She opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by a gang of young men, two of the youngest holding switchblades.

Oh shit. A gang initiation?

"Come on, boys. Will cutting up a half-asleep blonde girl really make you feel better about yourselves?" she asked, sitting up.

"Shut up, bitch," was one boy's creative reply. The two boys being initiated moved slowly toward her, obviously trying to look menacing. Billie stifled a yawn and waited for them to make a move. She dug through her pockets and found one of her last pills. Shoving it in her mouth, she swallowed it and turned her attention back to the gang.

One of the boys rushed forward, slashing out clumsily. Billie grabbed his arm and twisted it, making him drop the knife. Knocking his feet out from under him, she kicked him in the stomach. She could feel the rush kicking in, not as great as the first few weeks, but enough to get her buzzed. Grabbing the knife on the ground, she turned to the other boy, smiling at the fear in his eyes. He wasn't expecting his victim to fight back.

With one flick of her hand, she spun the knife out of his grasp and fought him hand to hand. Unlike a demon, the kid wasn't used to skilled fighting, probably having been only in a few school yard fights before. Billie continued to fight as her vision blurred and her head started to spin.

7x7x7x

Billie woke up on the ground, sore all over. Groaning, she stood up and looked around. One of the gang members was lying in a pool of blood, face up, unmoving. Billie looked around quickly, making sure that nobody was around to see the after-effects of her fight. The sky was still dark, so she figured it was too early in the morning for people to be out.

She grabbed her bag, thankful that the bench had hidden it from theft, and walked away from the scene quickly, feeling nauseous. She wasted some time window shopping through grate-shielded windows, and tried not to think about what she had just done. She spotted an open diner across from where she was standing, and checked to see if she had enough money for a meal. Once that was verified, she walked across the street and through the door.

A girl about her age, maybe a year or two younger, half-smiled at her and led her to a booth.

"Hi, I'm Anne. Can I start you off with a drink?"

"Yeah, just a black coffee, thanks," Billie said.

So much for cutting back on caffeine.

Anne raised an eyebrow slightly, but caught herself and shot another half-smile. Billie attempted to smile back and took a menu.

Billie wondered why a girl as young as Anne was working at a diner in such a bad part of the city, but then again, she was there too, so she supposed she shouldn't be thinking like that.

Come on, Billie, just because you didn't have to work at sixteen doesn't mean other girls are as lucky.

Anne brought her the coffee and Billie ordered French toast, the first good meal she had eaten in five days. She left the diner and walked for an hour before feeling out of breath. Her heart was beating quickly, but she wasn't walking any faster than a stroll. Her legs started to feel weak and she moved quickly towards a nearby bench. She sat down heavily on it and put her head in her hands, taking slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm her pulse.

You killed someone. You killed someone, and then you walked away. You killed someone, walked away, and ate breakfast! Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

"Excuse me."

Billie looked up and saw a boy about her age in a band t-shirt and jeans looking at her with concern.

"Are you alright? I saw you come over here, and you looked like you were about to pass out."

"No, no, I'm fine thanks."

He sat down on the edge of the bench, not too close to her, and handed her a tissue. Billie wiped her eyes and sighed. The boy was still looking at her from under his too-long bangs. His eyes were the brightest blue she had ever seen on a person.

"I'm not sure if you want to be left alone or anything…" he trailed off.

"You can sit here if you want."

A soft smile broke out on his face, making him look years younger.

"I'm Dave," he said, reaching out his hand in greeting.

"Billie," she replied, shaking it.

"Do you uh, want a cup of coffee or something, Billie?"

Billie had no idea what to say to that offer, she was being torn in too many directions to say anything coherent.

You just committed a murder. You have to go to the police, or run away, or go back to San Francisco, anything. You can't stay here. Like this guy doesn't want anything but sex. That's all you're good for anyway. He just sees you as a means for entertainment. You're not worth anything more than that. Or he could just be a nice guy with no ulterior motives. You could go to get a free cup of coffee with a cute guy.A cute guy who doesn't know anything about you. Like the fact that you're a used, homicidal, homeless witch. But don't let him touch you.

"Sure."

7x7x7x

Paige threw the crystal down on the table, ran a hand through her hair, and picked it up again, frustrated. Phoebe walked in, and seeing what her sister was doing, came over and gently took the stone from her hand.

"Paige, you have to stop doing this to yourself. It's not going to help," she instructed her softly.

Paige closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, tired from the monotonous task of scrying for hours.

"I know, but I have to do something. She's my charge, why can't I sense her, even a little bit?"

"Because she doesn't want you to, honey. She probably cast a spell, and then stopped using magic to throw us off. She could be in Boston by now for all we know. You need to stop trying to do the impossible."

"I can't help it. I feel like if I stop, I'll miss something. Like she could call out to me when I'm not looking for her, and I'll miss it. She's addicted to…something, and we have no idea where she is. Phoebe, she could be-" Paige's voice broke and she couldn't finish her thought, terrified.

Phoebe couldn't stand to see her little sister like that; Paige was blaming herself because she felt that she failed as a whitelighter, not knowing what was going on with Billie before it was too late.

"We'll find her, Paige. One way or another, we will."

Alright, trivia time: Name the illusion to another famous work in this chapter.

P.S. I own Dave. (And Cal, Parker and the demon, but go ahead and take them because it's not like I'm getting paid to make them up. Just let me know if you're honoring me like that.)

P.P.S. Next update Sunday. (And review if a. you liked it and/or b. you're going to watch that Kaley show I told you about tonight.)