Phoebe rapped softly on the door of the San Francisco Times' editor, Marilyn Harks. She held her breath as she waited, hoping that if she waited long enough, she would be able to exhale her nervousness. She purchased the perfect outfit an hour before; a cream colored business jacket with a matching skirt, and a navy blue blouse underneath of it all. If this outfit wasn't professional, she didn't know what was.

            "Yes?" the woman asked, eyeing Phoebe suspiciously. The woman had black, graying hair, and harsh, rigid features. She appeared to be as pleasant as a dragon eyeing its prey.

            "Uh, my names is Phoebe Halliwell," Phoebe began, smiling professionally. "I'm here to interview for this position of investigative reporter," she added.

            "Oh, yes," the woman said kindly, although she still looked as though she might pounce on Phoebe and tear her to shreds any second. "Come inside," she insisted, leading Phoebe into a large office, with antique furnishings, completed by a grand desk made of pine.

            "Your office is beautiful," Phoebe complimented, gazing at the foreign paintings and oriental sculptures.

            The woman cracked a smile. "It suits me doesn't it?"

            Phoebe bit her tongue and nodded in agreement. She couldn't very well say that the woman looked completely out of place in this room.

            "Now," the woman began, sitting. "My name is Marilyn Harks, but you may call me Mrs. Harks."

            Mrs.? Phoebe wondered what poor sap was forced into marrying her. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Harks," Phoebe said, refraining her mind from thinking any more bad thoughts about her potential new boss.

            "Resume?" Mrs. Harks asked. It was more a demand than a question. Phoebe whipped it out of her purse, hanging it to the woman wordlessly.

            Phoebe sat anxiously, fighting the strong urge to fidget around in her seat as she often did as a teenager. She smiled politely at the hard looking woman who checked over Phoebe's resume.

            "A psychic?" Mrs. Harks asked, looking at Phoebe doubtfully over her horn-rimmed glasses.

            "Uh…yes," Phoebe said, giggling slightly. "You see, I was…I was working from home at the time. Well, sort of. I'm writing a novel, and I took time off of work to complete it, which, sadly, never happened. The psychic job was just a job that lasted a week. I only took it to buy my sister a birthday present." Phoebe wondered if Mrs. Harks bought the lie about writing a book.

            "I see," Mrs. Harks said coldly, scanning her resume again. "Well, I have one last thing to say."

            This is turning out very badly, Phoebe thought. Brilliant idea, Pheebs.

            "Yes?" she asked sweetly, hoping she had one last chance to make a good impression.

            "When can you start?" the Mrs. Harks asked.

            Phoebe let out a surprised gasp. "Really?" she asked.

            Mrs. Harks studied Phoebe's face. "I think you have a lot of potential, Ms. Halliwell. You don't have too much experience in this field of work, but you look like a fast learner."

            "Oh, I am!" Phoebe assured her, unable to stop grinning.

            "Good," Mrs. Harks remarked. "Can you start tomorrow?"

            "Tomorrow?" Phoebe repeated.

            Mrs. Harks frowned. "Is there a problem?"

            "Oh, no!" Phoebe insisted. "Tomorrow is wonderful. What time?"

            "Be here at eight," Mrs. Harks said. She scribbled down a message on a white post-it. "Here," she said, handing the note to Phoebe. "Give this to Meredith Beal, the secretary outside of my office."

            "I will," Phoebe promised, getting to her feet. "Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity. I promise not to let you down."

            "I have a feeling about you," Mrs. Harks said, looking at Phoebe one last time before turning to her computer screen as if suddenly interested in something more important. Phoebe quickly left the editor's office and let out a squeal of excitement. Still beaming, she walked over to the desk in front of her.

            "Meredith Beal?" Phoebe questioned, approaching a young, woman who had just hung up the phone. She had dark, wavy hair, and a fair complexion. She looked up at Phoebe with sparkling blue eyes.

            "That's me," she said, smiling. "And you are?"

            "Phoebe Halliwell," Phoebe said, shaking her hand. "You're new investigative reporter."

            Meredith beamed and Phoebe immediately decided she liked her.

            "Welcome aboard," Meredith remarked. She took the memo from Phoebe's hand. "You start tomorrow I see."

            "Yes, Mrs. Harks seemed very eager. She must have been if she decided to hire me, anyway," Phoebe joked.

            Meredith laughed, then stared at her for a moment. "No, I think you're perfect for that position. You seem like the type of girl who never lets anything stop her from getting what she wants."

            "Thanks," Phoebe grinned.

            "Well, good luck tomorrow. If you'd like, me and another one of the girls, Laney Williams, she's a copy editor, are going to lunch. I can introduce you around to everyone, and you could come eat with us."

            Phoebe smiled. "That sounds great Meredith."

            "See you tomorrow," Meredith waved.

            Phoebe left the building in the best mood she had been in for months.

            X X X

            Cole lay on the cold metal, his eyes open wide. He hadn't slept in three nights. There was no point to sleeping anymore. Besides, he had to stay awake in case something important was discussed. If only one little clue was revealed to him, then maybe he could find a way to save himself…and Phoebe as well.

            For nearly two months he had lived inside of this cage. Aryan, a powerful upper-level demon, captured him right after he shimmered Phoebe to the manor so that she could save her sisters from Shafts. He didn't even know whether her sisters lived through the attack or not. He knew Phoebe was alive though, he could feel her presence.

            Aryan wouldn't tell Cole anything about the reasons for his capture. Cole assumed it was because he broke the Source's command and shimmered Phoebe up from the underworld. He should have expected that he would have to run after committing that ultimate act of betrayal. He only wished that he had some means of contacting her. This cage he had been forced to live in for the past couple of months prevented him from using most of his powers. The only power that he knew he could use for sure was conjuring up his fireballs. But as they never left the cage, merely bouncing back and forth, Cole had to dodge them until they hit the floor and distinguished.

            Cole stayed awake for a few more hours, hoping that the demons guarding him would slip some sort of information that could help him escape. Finally, unable to fight the four night's worth of sleep he had ignored, he lowered his head slowly, drifting off into a deep slumber…

            "Phoebe!" he called. "Phoebe!"

            She turned and looked at him, smiling. She was surrounded by all white…he couldn't see an end to the whiteness. Phoebe ran towards him, but was thrown back by the energy field surrounding his cell.

            "Cole, I can't get through!" Phoebe shouted. "What's going on? Where have you been?"

            "Phoebe, they trapped me!" he yelled back at her. "I'm stuck in the underworld! Aryan!"

            "What?" Phoebe asked, hardly able to hear him. "Cole, you sound so far away! I can't make out what you're saying!"

            "I love you, Phoebe!" he yelled, loudly and clearly.

            "Cole!" Phoebe called one last time, as she was sucked down into the whiteness engulfing her.

            Cole stared out in the distance at the spot where Phoebe stood just moments before, wishing he had went with her.

            Phoebe shot up like a bullet, and gasped for breath. It took her a minute to regain her composure, and she slowly gazed at her surroundings. She was in her bed, in her room, in the Manor. She steadied her rapid breathing, slowly calming herself down. She just had the weirdest dream!

            She was in a room with all white, talking to Prue and Piper about Melly. She hadn't even the faintest idea who Melly was now, but it the dream she knew her. Then, Prue and Piper were sucked into the floor, and Phoebe was alone. She tried to run and escape, but the white stretched on for miles and miles. She saw no end to it…until she saw Cole. There he was, floating in the whiteness, sitting on a metal plank. What appeared to be electric beams surrounded him, forbidding him to escape his prison. He was trapped.

            She called out to him and he answered her. But what did he say? Phoebe strained her mind to remember. I love you, she remembered that much. Yet there was more, she knew there was. A name! Aaron? No, not quite right. A…A…Aryan! She remembered! But who was Aryan and why was he so important?

            Phoebe laughed as she caught a glance of her reflection. She looked so pale and scared. It was just a dream, she reminded herself. She was dreaming of Cole again. It wasn't real. Aryan wasn't real. It was all her overworked imagination deceiving her.

            Sighing, she laid back down, closing her eyes tightly. It was just a dream, she repeated over and over again in her mind, until she finally fell asleep.

            X X X

            Cole opened his eyes, angry with himself for dozing off. He saw Phoebe in his dreams though, he always did. His dreams were his one escape route…

            Cole's eyes grew wide. Phoebe! He talked to her! The real Phoebe, not dream Phoebe. He was certain that it was her. He told her about Aryan! He smiled slightly. He knew Phoebe and he knew that she would never stop looking for him until she found him. And he was certain that she would find him.

            X X X

            Well? Comments, suggestions?! PLEASE send feedback, positive or negative! Just r/r! THANKS!