LOVER'S REUNION
Part Two
Ours is not to reason why
"I'm beat!" Phoebe let out a heavy breath and dropped the bags she was carrying. She plopped backwards onto the four-poster bed. The mattress bounced beneath her weight and she giggled.
After they left the rundown hotel at the harbor Cole had taken her to the French Quarter and checked them into the Hotel Monteleone. Phoebe had protested at the expense but Cole had smiled and told her that only the best was good enough for her.
Cole laughed and added his share to the pile of bags. "Not too beat, I hope," he said with a grin and a meaningful look at the bed. Phoebe caught the look and sat back up, her face serious. Cole abruptly remembered what he had done right before he took his own life and he flushed with embarrassment.
"I- I'm sorry," he stammered, turning away from Phoebe. "I didn't- I mean-"
A small hand on his wrist stopped him. "I know," Phoebe said. "Cole, it happened a long time ago. And it wasn't you. It was Belthazor."
"I should have stopped him," Cole said, his voice low and bitter. "How can you ever forgive me?"
"Simple," Phoebe replied. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and forced his head down. "There's nothing to forgive." The words were a whispered breath against his lips, a moment before her mouth closed over his.
Fifteen years of limbo faded from memory at the touch of her soft lips, as did the image of Belthazor performing his gruesome act. Cole reached around Phoebe to place his hands beneath her buttocks. He lifted her with ease and she wrapped her legs around his hips, her mouth never breaking contact.
"Please, Cole," she whispered. "It's been so long. Please, make love to me? I missed you so much."
Cole didn't need the encouragement. A few strides and he reached the bed where he gently lowered her onto the silk sheets. Straddling her, he rested on his hands and knees while his eyes searched hers for confirmation. Was this really what she wanted? Phoebe's eyes held nothing but love and trust; there was not a single sign of fear or doubt in their brown depths.
She smiled. Cole raised one arm and with a light finger trailed her jawline before he cupped her face in his hand and bent down for another kiss. It had been so long, for both of them; he wanted to make it last.
* * *
It wasn't until much, much later, when a thin sliver of moon smiled down upon them through the window, that Phoebe asked him again why he was back. They lay tangled in the sheets, arms and legs entwined, their skins still damp from their lovemaking. Her head rested on Cole's chest and her fingers traced idle patterns on his skin.
His hand brushed a strand of her hair from her temple while he collected his thoughts. "They want you to go back," he said. "To go home. To set things right with Prue and Piper."
Phoebe lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest while she studied his face. "That's all?" she asked, her tone suggesting she didn't believe it was. "They let you come back after fifteen damn years to tell me I should make up with my sisters?" Her voice was full of bitterness for the years lost and Cole couldn't blame her.
"No," he admitted. "That's not all. They need the Power of Three restored, before the turn of the year."
"Why?" Phoebe asked. She raised herself onto her elbows, breaking contact in the process. The nerve endings in his skin protested the loss and he reached out to stroke her back.
"I'm not certain," Cole said. He gave her a lopsided smile. "Something to do with a portal opening to other worlds, the boundaries between different realms weakening."
"So they need the Charmed Ones to stop that from happening? To close the portal? And if we do, then what? They'll take you away from me again?"
"I don't know," Cole said. "Maybe. All I know is what they told me: that the Power of Three is the only thing that stands between us and the evils that would pour through the portal."
Phoebe sat up and wrapped a sheet around her body before she got off the bed and started pacing the room. "So that explains why Leo tried to contact me after three years, " she murmured.
She looked like a fierce bride, Cole thought, with her long hair flowing, her eyes flashing and the white sheet trailing after her like a veil. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on her words.
"No," Phoebe decided. "I'm not going. I'm not going to do their dirty work for them. They'll have to find another flunky."
"Phoebe." Cole scooted into his pants and walked up behind her. She had stopped at the window and was staring out across the glittering display of nighttime New Orleans. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rubbed his cheek against hers. "Phoebe, you shouldn't blame the Elders for what happened. Or your sisters."
"I know." Phoebe's voice was filled with unshed tears. "It was my f-"
"No!" Cole interrupted, harsher than he had intended. "Don't. Don't blame yourself. Ever. There was nothing you could have said or done to stop me. I'm sorry I abandoned you but I thought I was doing the right thing."
She turned around and lifted up her face. Moisture glistened in her brown eyes. "Don't leave me again, Cole. Promise me."
His eyes scanned her features. A single teardrop slipped through her lashes and trickled slowly down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. "I promise."
Cole knew he had no business making such a promise; technically he was dead and he didn't know what the Elders had in mind for him after he reunited Phoebe with her sisters. But he couldn't resist the desperate plea in her eyes.
Phoebe smiled through her tears before leaning her forehead against his chest. He pulled her close against him and held her for a long, long time.
- Continued in the next chapter
Part Two
Ours is not to reason why
"I'm beat!" Phoebe let out a heavy breath and dropped the bags she was carrying. She plopped backwards onto the four-poster bed. The mattress bounced beneath her weight and she giggled.
After they left the rundown hotel at the harbor Cole had taken her to the French Quarter and checked them into the Hotel Monteleone. Phoebe had protested at the expense but Cole had smiled and told her that only the best was good enough for her.
Cole laughed and added his share to the pile of bags. "Not too beat, I hope," he said with a grin and a meaningful look at the bed. Phoebe caught the look and sat back up, her face serious. Cole abruptly remembered what he had done right before he took his own life and he flushed with embarrassment.
"I- I'm sorry," he stammered, turning away from Phoebe. "I didn't- I mean-"
A small hand on his wrist stopped him. "I know," Phoebe said. "Cole, it happened a long time ago. And it wasn't you. It was Belthazor."
"I should have stopped him," Cole said, his voice low and bitter. "How can you ever forgive me?"
"Simple," Phoebe replied. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and forced his head down. "There's nothing to forgive." The words were a whispered breath against his lips, a moment before her mouth closed over his.
Fifteen years of limbo faded from memory at the touch of her soft lips, as did the image of Belthazor performing his gruesome act. Cole reached around Phoebe to place his hands beneath her buttocks. He lifted her with ease and she wrapped her legs around his hips, her mouth never breaking contact.
"Please, Cole," she whispered. "It's been so long. Please, make love to me? I missed you so much."
Cole didn't need the encouragement. A few strides and he reached the bed where he gently lowered her onto the silk sheets. Straddling her, he rested on his hands and knees while his eyes searched hers for confirmation. Was this really what she wanted? Phoebe's eyes held nothing but love and trust; there was not a single sign of fear or doubt in their brown depths.
She smiled. Cole raised one arm and with a light finger trailed her jawline before he cupped her face in his hand and bent down for another kiss. It had been so long, for both of them; he wanted to make it last.
* * *
It wasn't until much, much later, when a thin sliver of moon smiled down upon them through the window, that Phoebe asked him again why he was back. They lay tangled in the sheets, arms and legs entwined, their skins still damp from their lovemaking. Her head rested on Cole's chest and her fingers traced idle patterns on his skin.
His hand brushed a strand of her hair from her temple while he collected his thoughts. "They want you to go back," he said. "To go home. To set things right with Prue and Piper."
Phoebe lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest while she studied his face. "That's all?" she asked, her tone suggesting she didn't believe it was. "They let you come back after fifteen damn years to tell me I should make up with my sisters?" Her voice was full of bitterness for the years lost and Cole couldn't blame her.
"No," he admitted. "That's not all. They need the Power of Three restored, before the turn of the year."
"Why?" Phoebe asked. She raised herself onto her elbows, breaking contact in the process. The nerve endings in his skin protested the loss and he reached out to stroke her back.
"I'm not certain," Cole said. He gave her a lopsided smile. "Something to do with a portal opening to other worlds, the boundaries between different realms weakening."
"So they need the Charmed Ones to stop that from happening? To close the portal? And if we do, then what? They'll take you away from me again?"
"I don't know," Cole said. "Maybe. All I know is what they told me: that the Power of Three is the only thing that stands between us and the evils that would pour through the portal."
Phoebe sat up and wrapped a sheet around her body before she got off the bed and started pacing the room. "So that explains why Leo tried to contact me after three years, " she murmured.
She looked like a fierce bride, Cole thought, with her long hair flowing, her eyes flashing and the white sheet trailing after her like a veil. He pushed the thought away and concentrated on her words.
"No," Phoebe decided. "I'm not going. I'm not going to do their dirty work for them. They'll have to find another flunky."
"Phoebe." Cole scooted into his pants and walked up behind her. She had stopped at the window and was staring out across the glittering display of nighttime New Orleans. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rubbed his cheek against hers. "Phoebe, you shouldn't blame the Elders for what happened. Or your sisters."
"I know." Phoebe's voice was filled with unshed tears. "It was my f-"
"No!" Cole interrupted, harsher than he had intended. "Don't. Don't blame yourself. Ever. There was nothing you could have said or done to stop me. I'm sorry I abandoned you but I thought I was doing the right thing."
She turned around and lifted up her face. Moisture glistened in her brown eyes. "Don't leave me again, Cole. Promise me."
His eyes scanned her features. A single teardrop slipped through her lashes and trickled slowly down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. "I promise."
Cole knew he had no business making such a promise; technically he was dead and he didn't know what the Elders had in mind for him after he reunited Phoebe with her sisters. But he couldn't resist the desperate plea in her eyes.
Phoebe smiled through her tears before leaning her forehead against his chest. He pulled her close against him and held her for a long, long time.
- Continued in the next chapter
