"How about you, Phoebe?" asked Piper. "I seem to remember you were there watching my embarrassing antics."

Phoebe sighed. "I arrived a little over an hour after the concert started…"

--

10:09 p.m.

"Hey, Prue, when did you get here?" asked Phoebe as she walked into P3.

"About half an hour ago," replied her sister.

"Is this group any good?" asked Phoebe, gesturing toward the Deadites.

"They're not bad." She pointed at the drum set which was currently taking heavy stress from the group's percussionist. "See the chainsaw painted onto the bass drum?"

"Yeah, that's part of the band's Evil Dead theme, right?"

Prue nodded, a reminiscent look in her eyes. "I remember Andy telling me once that his favorite movie was Evil Dead II."

Phoebe looked at her sister. "You still miss him, huh?"

Prue simply nodded.

"Where's Piper?" asked Phoebe, changing the subject.

"Not sure," replied Prue. "I've been enjoying the group so much that I haven't looked for her yet."

"Hey, ladies!" said an approaching Vincent, who was carrying a beer bottle in one hand.

"Hello, Vincent," replied Phoebe, grinning. "Had a little too much there?"

"Yeah, I think I have," slurred the writer. "The concert's been going on for over an hour; you should be getting drunk, too!"

"Yes, well, some of us know how to control ourselves," replied Prue. She decided to go dance, leaving Phoebe and Vincent with each other.

A man in a black leather jacket sporting a combed-back hairdo walked up to Phoebe. "Hey, baby, you looking for a good time?"

Geez, kinda nostalgic for the fifties, aren't you, thought Phoebe.

She gave him a polite smile. "Not tonight, sorry."

"Your loss, baby." The greaser slapped her on the ass (eliciting a squeak from her) and walked away.

Phoebe looked after him angrily. "Oh, the nerve of some people!"

"Wow, that guy was a pain in the ass," slurred Vincent.

"Tell me something I don't know," replied Phoebe, still rubbing her backside.

"You shouldn't let people like him get away with that, seriously! Any guy hits on you, you make sure to let him know it's not appreciated. Hit him if you think that's what it will take." Vincent took a swig from the bottle and then stumbled back onto the dance floor, where he started dancing with a grace that ranked just below that of a wild chimpanzee.

"LET'S PARTY ON FOREVER!!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

--

"So that's why the party was still going on this morning," realized Vincent. "Damn, I sure do say weird things when I'm drunk."

He and Prue looked at each other. Their eyes reflected their fear of where Phoebe's story was going. Would she tell the group about the ménage-a-trois they had apparently had?

"Anyway," continued Phoebe. "I eventually went out on the dance floor, and I danced for a while. Then, all of a sudden, I started feeling weird."

--

10:53 p.m.

Phoebe noticed that she was feeling dizzy and had started to stumble around.

Whoa, am I getting sick or something? Phoebe was worried; her vision was starting to get a little distorted as well. For a second, she thought that she might be having a stroke.

Then she recognized the symptoms.

"I'm drunk?!" she shouted (no one could hear her, however, due to the noise); her shout was slightly slurred. "How the fuck is that possible? I haven't even had a drink yet!"

A man came up to Phoebe. "Hey, want to dance?"

Wham! She responded by punching him in the nose, knocking him to the floor. As she walked off, the man called her something that she didn't quite catch, but it sounded like "runt".

Looking around, she managed to find Prue, who also seemed to be having trouble maintaining stability on her feet. In one hand she was holding a 12 oz. beer bottle.

"Hey, Prue?" said Phoebe. "Are you drunk?"

Prue giggled. "Yes, I think I am. And from the looks of it, so are you."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Well, including this bottle, I'd say I've had exactly…" Her eyes lit up with realization, and she looked at the bottle. "…about a third of this bottle. Whoa. That stuff must be stronger than I thought. How much have you had?"

"Uh…none."

They looked at each other, and simultaneously realized what had happened.

"Vincent," they both said at once.

"He told us that we should be getting drunk," Phoebe recalled.

Prue nodded. "What do you say we go find him and see if he can undo this?"

A young man who Phoebe recognized from her psychology class came up to her.

"Hey, Phoebe—"

WHOP!

--

"Oh, c'mon, you can't blame me for that one!" protested Vincent. "All he did was say hello, which I hardly think qualifies as hitting on you!"

"Yes, well, I think my being drunk, which I can blame you for, played a part in my interpreting it that way," replied Phoebe.

"So how many more people can I be expecting lawsuits from, Pheebs?" asked Piper.

"I think I hit a couple more after that, that's about it. Anyway, we found Vincent shortly afterward."

--

11:15 p.m.

"Hey, ladies," slurred the grinning writer. "What's going on?"

"What's going on is that we're DRUNK, mister!" Phoebe slurred back.

"Yeah? Good job!"

"And it's your fault, too!" said an also-slurring Prue. "And we need you to fix it!"

Vincent, however, had quit listening as something had caught his attention. "Dude, look at Piper!" he said.

They looked, and were shocked by what they saw.

Piper was dancing in very provocative fashion, moving around the dance floor. As they watched, she went up to several men and did things such running her hands over her body or shaking her ass at them, or even bumping and rubbing up against them. None of the men seemed to have any objections whatsoever. If Prue or Phoebe had been sober, they would have tried to get Piper out of there. As it was, however, all they could do was stand there, mesmerized.

As she watched this, Phoebe caught something out of the corner of her eye. Turning to look, she saw that it was a beautiful, redheaded woman dressed in leather pants and a black, sleeveless top. Phoebe recognized her as being a regular at the club. She didn't know all that much about her, but she did know at least two things. The first was that her name was Sara, and the second was that she was a proud lesbian. She seemed to not be able to take her eyes off of Piper.

Wow, I'll bet Sara's enjoying this, thought Phoebe. Too bad for her that Piper doesn't swing that way.

Phoebe turned her gaze back to Piper. To her surprise, she saw that Piper had apparently caught Sara's look, and was approaching her.

"Oh, Christ," Phoebe heard Prue swear. "Is she going to…?"

Piper started dancing with Sara in the exact same fashion that she had danced with the men; this elicited cheers from a few.

Phoebe nodded in response to Prue. "I think she is."

"Dude, that is so hot…" muttered Vincent.

The Deadites ended their song, and then started immediately into their next one. As Phoebe watched, Piper leaned over and whispered something into Sara's ear. A look of surprise appeared on Sara's face, followed by her laughing and nodding her head.

"Hey, guys, what's up?" The three of them turned to see Darryl Morris standing there, drunk as ever.

"Not sure, exactly," replied Vincent, who was nearly drooling; they all turned back to Piper and Sara. "But I think we're about to find out."

Piper grabbed a chair from one of the tables and moved it over to where Sara was, then gestured for her to sit down. The redhead giggled as she did so.

"Oh. My. God." Prue was realizing what they were about to do. "Piper is seriously not going to…"

As Prue, Phoebe, Vincent, and Darryl watched with mixed reactions of horror and lust (although all four of them were fascinated one way or the other), Piper straddled Sara and started grinding against her.

"Piper's giving another woman a lapdance?! That's awesome!" said Darryl, watching as Piper took hold of Sara's head such that the redhead's face was pressed between the Charmed One's breasts.

"I have to admit, I'm kinda impressed," said Phoebe. "Somehow, I can't look away."

--

Piper and Vincent were both looking terribly embarrassed at this point in Phoebe's story.

"So what happened afterward, Phoebe?" asked Leo. Vincent and Prue both tensed up.

"Umm…from what I can remember, I hit a few more guys who tried to hit on me, and when Vincent saw this, he said it was time for me to leave, so I went home to bed."

"That's it?" asked Leo, as the writer and the oldest Charmed One held their breath.

"Yeah," replied Phoebe.

Vincent and Prue exhaled with relief.

"Oh, wait, there was one more thing!" exclaimed Phoebe. Vincent and Prue eyes shot wide open with horror.

"As I was leaving the club, I saw that Darryl and some of his new friends had apparently decided to go streaking."

"Well, thanks for that lovely image," muttered Piper.

"What did Darryl not do that night?!" asked Leo.

Vincent and Prue both exhaled again.

--

A few hours later, Vincent and Prue were alone, discussing what had happened.

"You think Phoebe was just covering for herself and us?" asked Vincent.

Prue shook her head. "No, I'm pretty good at telling when she's lying."

"So what was she doing in your bedroom then?"

"She probably was so tired and drunk that she didn't notice which bedroom she went into. I guess we just didn't see her when we got into the bed."

"And the being naked part?"

"She always sleeps naked."

"Oh."

"Although that still doesn't tell us whether or not you and I did it."

The writer shrugged. "I doubt it. If I was as drunk as the stories made be out to be, I'm not sure I could have even gotten it up."

Prue nodded slowly. "It'd probably be best if we just left it at that and made no further attempts to find out the truth."

Vincent nodded back. "Yeah."

--

Phoebe found the number for her psychology professor and dialed it.

A male voice answered. "Hello, Dr. Schroeder's office."

"Yes, hi, it's Phoebe Halliwell, I'm a student in your class. I was hoping I could get some help from you on that dream analysis assignment."

"Certainly, Miss Halliwell."

"You told us to interview someone about a dream they had so that we could analyze it in our paper, right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"I was wondering I use a dream that I myself had?"

"I generally don't like students doing that, Miss Halliwell."

"Yes, I know, but this one was rather vivid and unique, and I thought it could be useful for my paper."

Phoebe heard the man at the other end sigh. "It depends. What was it?"

"What, you want me to tell you right now?" Phoebe's face turned red; she was glad that Dr. Schroeder could not see her right now. "Uh, well, it's rather embarrassing…"

"Oedipal issues? Please, Miss Halliwell, we all have those kind of dreams, and we're both adults. What was your dream?"

"Um, ok, you see, it wasn't actually an oedipal thing, at least not in the sense of involving my parents."

"Go on."

"It involved this guy I just met, and—"

"Are you romantically interested in this fellow?"

"Jesus Christ, no!"

"There's no need to get angry, Miss Halliwell."

"I'm sorry, I'm not angry, it's just that…well, trust me, if you knew this guy, you'd understand why I snapped at you. Anyway, in my dream, I wake up in the middle of the night in my oldest sister's bed, and I see that she is also in bed next to me, making out with this guy, and they're both tearing each other's clothes off and acting drunk."

"Interesting," replied the professor, his voice betraying no particular tone.

"Then they notice me. They both stare at me, surprised, and then Prue—that's my sister—smiles. She pushes the guy off of her, and then puts her arms around me, and we start making out. I find—in the dream, that is—that I'm actually into it, if you catch my drift. And you know what's even weirder? The dream was so vivid that I even remember smelling the alcohol on her breath, and—"

--

Prue did not want to hear any more. She took her ear off of Phoebe's door and walked away quickly, a stream of thought going through her head.

Ohmygod ohmygod I do not want to know how that dream ended ohmygod ohmygod that is so gross it was just a dream it was just a dream just keep telling yourself that it was just a dream ohmygod why did I even listen to her say all that?

Prue decided to go upstairs to the attic to see if she could find some memory dust. It was not Phoebe that she needed to use it on.

--

A/N: I am so sorry for having taken so long to get this chapter out. It's a really busy time at college right now, especially for a computer engineering major like me, and the next week or so is going to be hell (and that's all before finals!). Anyways, to make up for the delay, I made this chapter extra long.

Maybe I wimped out, I dunno, but as you can see, I decided to leave it vague as to what really happened between Prue, Phoebe, and Vincent. Hope y'all can take that.

At least I've finished the P3 thing now. Thanks again to PiperandLeoFan101 for the idea. I currently have an idea for taking the story in a whole different direction, but it may be a while before I update, due to my classes and all, so bear with me.

As usual, I'm lovin' the feedback.