"This is a poor plan."

Chris Halliwell silently agreed. Seeing that he wasn't in the mood to speak to either the demon expressing that opinion or his brother, he continued to stare out the window out into the dark San Francisco skyline.

"It's fine," Wyatt reiterated to his all-muscle-no-brains second-in-command. There weren't a lot that Chris could approve of about Francis. He's not even sure of how Wyatt ran into the black-eyed demon or how he earned such devotion to a witch. What he does know that if Francis thinks this was a poor plan, then maybe they should consider the idea that, yeah, this was a piss-poor plan.

"But we can't trust her," Francis continued, boldly disputing his boss. From the reflection of the glass looking into the suite they were staying in, Chris watched the demon's leaning against the table, his muscles twitching and itching for a fight.

"She's the Queen of Hell, Francis," his brother pointed out. "We will need her."

"She can't be trusted." Francis moved from the table and started to pace the length of the luxury suite where this stupid meeting to this stupid plan was taking place.

"So you say." The thin patience Wyatt reserved for top commanders and little brothers was evidently running out. It didn't matter what history Wyatt had with him. If Francis didn't hold his tongue soon, they were going to be on the lookout for a new Second.

"You haven't heard the same stories I have, Sire."

Chris mentally winced at the title as he always did. It didn't matter how often he heard it from Francis or the others; he could never get use to hearing that used towards to guy who use to tie his shoes.

"She's crafty," Francis continued. "She wouldn't have become the Queen of Hell if she wasn't. Some say she made a deal with Lucifer himself to get her throne."

The hair on the back of Chris' head stood on its ends at feel of electricity building up in the air.

"I thought you said Lucifer was dead," Wyatt responded. The danger in his voice made Chris turn his head away from the windowpane to get a better view of the darkness on his brother's face.

"Some say, not all," Francis backtracked. "The ones scared of her are willing to believe anything. I'm saying that she is silver-tongued and would betray us the moment she can. Please reconsider this meeting, Sire."

"We need Hell on our side," Wyatt declared. Chris shivered as the lightning energy became even more tangible in the air. "It's not up for debate."

The demon made a subtle glance towards Chris' direction at which Chris reacted by turning back towards the window.

"At least reconsider his presence here. He will only get in the way."

A long pause would make people who didn't know Wyatt think he was pondering the demon's request. Chris knew better. Wyatt was taking a long, deep breath just like their mother taught him so not smite the demon for such insolence.

"I have plans for him, Francis," Wyatt replied, each word becoming more sweetly perilous as the last. "He is to be my Ambassador. So, he needs to be here to learn. Will that be a problem?"

"He is a child," Francis whispered, his defiance close to the edge of stupidity.

"He is sixteen." Wyatt stepped closer, taking advantage of the height difference between him and his demon servant. "He is not much older than I. So what exactly are you saying, Francis?"

In the reflection, Chris watches Francis straightened at the implicit threat and then his shoulders slump and he looks away.

"As you wish, My Lord."

"I wish it, Francis, and if you question my actions again, there will be-" Wyatt started to promise before the knock at the door interrupted him. Wyatt looked to the door and then glared at his Commander. "We will finish this later. Get the door."

As Francis walked across the room to do his task, Wyatt turned to his brother and pointed at him. "Chris, don't say a word. You're here to observe only."

Like the sullen teen he was, he shrugged his shoulders. "Wasn't planning on it."

Wyatt merely rolled his eyes at his brother's slight insolence. If it were anyone else, Chris was sure they would be a crispy pile of ash by now.

"You know, I don't have to bring you back to Grandpa."

Chris' heart raced at the implicit threat. He opened his mouth to object but, by then, Francis threw open the door to the suite. Chris shut his mouth and folded his arms in front of him knowing that anything he said or did now would bring far greater consequences later.

The Queen of Hell was not what he was expecting when she walked in. She was small in stature, and she wore a red, dress that flowed to the ground and beyond. But the way she walked into the room, she stood out, demanding the attention with her presence.

At first glance, she looked bold and colorful in an overdramatizing way for the powerplay. But as she got closer, Chris could feel the power exuding from her.

This was no powerplay.

Wyatt had finally met his match.

The Queen bowed. "I finally get to meet the 'Twice Blessed'. It is truly an honor."

"Indeed. I should be the one honored. I heard many tales about you."

"Well don' believe everythin' you hear, my dear. Half will be true and the other half…well…a bit exaggerated. The question would be: 'which half?'"

Wyatt smiled. Chris could almost believe his brother was charmed by the woman he just met.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you here."

"I am to assume you wish to discuss an alliance with Hell, but I don't do business with people I have not been formally introduced to yet." Her hand waved towards Francis and, then towards Chris, before she smiled back at Wyatt. "I am Rowena MacLeod, Queen of Hell."

"Wyatt Halliwell," Wyatt introduced to placate his soon-to-be-ally and bowed his head in respect to the woman in front of him. He looked to Francis and tilted his head away to silently dismiss the demon. Francis took a deep breath and his fists twitched in objection, but after a moment of hesitation, did as requested and left the room through the same door where the Queen's demons stood guard.

Chris didn't move.

Rowena accepted the demon's dismissal and turned to Chris.

"And you are?" she asked in query.

"An observer," Wyatt answered for him.

"I see… now if I were a bettin' woman, I would say…" Her eyes moved back and forth between them. "The two of you are brothers."

And, like in defense against Francis, Wyatt glared at what was fast becoming a threat to his family.

Rowena looked away and merely shrugged in nonchalance. "I have no issue with any family business, I assure you. But I have found that there's safety in stayin' away from it. It tends to get… 'extreme' when things go wrong."

She moved with fluidity and with purpose, Chris observed. She shifted away from Wyatt to a point where the suite's couch was in-between them.

"That would be good advice, Ms. MacLeod." If Wyatt had the same suspicions Chris did, he certainly wasn't showing it. "But rest assured, we will have no drama."

Wyatt looked at him as if to dare him to contradict. Chris continued to say nothing mainly because he had nothing to say.

"Well, that would be a relief," the Queen of Hell responded. "And please, it's 'Rowena'. We should be on a first name basis if we are to be allies, no?"

"Rowena," Wyatt repeated in acceptance.

"So, what are your terms?"

Another step and shift by Rowena. Chris leaned back on the windowpane in a futile attempt to get distance from this exchange and the people dealing it.

"Your demons and mine together. No force would dare oppose the both of us."

"Ah, oppose? I lead with a 'hands off' approach. I have no interest ruling anythin' than my own. Thank you for the invitation but I am goin' to have to decline," Rowena politely declined.

Wyatt growled at the insolence. "You misunderstand my terms. That is your only option."

"Ah," the Queen of Hell responded, looking briefly from Wyatt to Chris before her attention went back to his brother. "I think you misunderstand how 'terms' work. Conditions usually imply a choice, no?"

"Don't get me wrong, Rowena," Wyatt sneered. "I would much prefer an alliance with you, but I have no issue with taking what I want if it is necessary."

Chris tensed at the at the force his brother's anger was showing. The woman didn't show any reaction other than indifference. This was a conversation Wyatt was not used to having.

"Do you know what I hear about you?" Wyatt continued. "I hear that you're weak. That you took soldiers and made them into bureaucrats. It seems easy enough to simply take your crown. No more Queen of Hell. Is that true?" Wyatt's smile grew. "Or is that 'half-true'?"

Rowena's nose twitched at Wyatt's threat. "Well, I wouldn' say 'easy'."

The building began to shake as his brother's fists tighten in power and in rage.

A slight gasp and she took a step away from Wyatt at the sheer show of his power.

But, no, that didn't feel right to Chris. A woman who showed no fear before and would suddenly feel it at a simple earthquake was not something which made sense to the young teenager. He wondered if Wyatt also remembered what Aunt Phoebe once told them when life was much brighter and full of life:

"Never trust a deviation in any good story. Red herrings are meant to fool you for a reason."

At Wyatt's smirk to Rowena's reaction, Chris would guess his brother did, in fact, not remember.

Chris sometimes wondered what Wyatt did remember of those times.

Wyatt cut of his power and the earthquake stopped. "I'm sure as a former witch yourself, you have heard the stories of my legacy and what I am capable of," Wyatt stated.

The former witch twitch and nervously stepped towards the couch to lean against the back, apparently weak at Wyatt's 'grand show'.

"I have heard, yes," she agreed. "You have shown your reputation proves accurate and you are very powerful."

Chris couldn't stop from holding his breath, waiting for the climax to this conflict that was sure to come.

Rowena MacLeod looked directly into Wyatt Halliwell's eyes as she said: "But I have learned the hard way to worry about the ones who show no power. They are the ones who tend to surprise me the most."

She then switched her gaze to Chris and he suddenly realized their mistake. In her back and forth, in her twitches and steps, neither Wyatt nor Chris realized just how close she had gotten to the younger Halliwell.

"Well," she said to Chris. "Let us see what you are capable of, my boy."

As quick as her touch to his arm, he didn't have time to feel it because he was engulfed in black and felt nothing.