A/N: A few things before we begin. Firstly, thank you so much for all your wonderful input on my first chapter, you guys certain made my day and I hope I can continue to meet your level of expectation. Secondly, while every other character isn't mine, Amy "Ames" Carrasco is my invention. Thirdly, I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please remember to review afterwards!

Love's Intervention
Chapter Two: Hangovers and Long Hair

A voice drifted into Phoebe's mind as she slowly began to wake up. "Hon, wake up already," it prodded her.

Phoebe responded by turning and burying her face in the pillow. For some strange reason, the pillowcase felt different, a bit coarser. But that couldn't be right...

"Phoebe, if you don't get up right now, you'll be late for class, again, and you'll blame me—again."

Phoebe squeezed her eyelids together without opening them beforehand. Class. How she hated getting up for class, by her age you would think she wouldn't still be in school, would she?

But wait. She wasn't in school anymore...

Phoebe's eyes flew open as she sat up in her bed, then she promptly laid back down cautiously, her head pounding. She closed her eyes again, though it didn't make much difference—she couldn't see so well, anyways.

"I know, your hangover," said the voice again, sounding slightly more sympathetic. "But you made me promise, so I won't back down. I'll get you some herbal tea, and then you're off to college. You don't want to fail your classes, do you?"

Phoebe glanced blearily at the direction from which that familiar voice was coming from. Familiar, but she hasn't heard it in years, it was impossible...

"Ames?" she croaked out, as the blurry shapes took on more form.

"In the flesh," the girl tossed out in that casual manner of hers. Phoebe could recognize her now, her long brownish black hair and the figure that seemed to emit energy from all directions. But it couldn't be, just couldn't. Amy was her friend from New York, six years ago, what was going on—?

Phoebe carefully sat up, rubbed her eyes, and looked at her surroundings. "Where am I?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Amy, or Ames, which was the nickname she preferred, stopped walking toward a door on Phoebe's right hand side, turned around, put her hands on her hips, and rolled her eyes in one, fluid motion. "12 Riverhead Road, Apartment 3B, San Francisco, California, The United States of America, Earth, The Solar System, The Milky Way...need I go on?" she retorted.

Phoebe ignored her sarcasm, though in actuality she was actually a bit comforted by it. At least it was something she knew, in otherwise alien surroundings. She was in a smallish room that she had to guess was hers'. All her personal touches were there; the color theme of pink, beige and brown (Ames preferred bolder colors), a miniature statue of a faerie on her nightstand (though she knew now they didn't have such pointy ears), some sort of Chinese mantra framed on her wall. Her eyes scanned pass her dresser, but quickly averted back to it when she caught her reflection in the mirror. She got out of bed, slowly, almost not even noticing the jabbing pains in her head.

When she reached the dresser, she put her hands slowly on the surface and stared at the mirror attached to it on top. Her hair...it was...long. Mid-length, actually. And a honeyed color. She grabbed a brush on the dresser, and slowly moved it through her locks, her free hand following its process. She even tugged on it cautiously to make sure it was real. It was.

She stared down at what she was wearing. A giant t-shirt from a local radio station-sponsored concert that she'd never been to. Phoebe stumbled back to her bed, half dazed and half in pain, and sat rather heavily upon it. She brought her left leg up on her right knee, and stared at her inner calf. There was supposed to be a long, thin scar from a demon scuffle that Chris had only healed temporarily before another demon challenged them. It wasn't there.

Phoebe slowly put her hand to her forehead, and tried to come up with an explanation for what was going on. I can try to go the normal way and suggest it's all a dream. She furtively pinched herself on the arm, though without much hope. Sure enough, all it did was add to the throbbing in her head—which she had got from a supposed hangover, even though she hadn't sipped anything alcoholic in over a week. Which was something, a sardonic voice in her head commented. Being the sister of a club owner and just breaking up with your boyfriend and all.

Talking about sisters...where were they? Why was she in this apartment, with a buddy from New York no less? Why is her hair long and blonde? She could go on and on, but her training as a Charmed One had her stop. Be calm, try to think this out. So she tried. She called up an image of the Book of Shadows in her head, and tried to look through its pages in her mind. She thought about her past experiences with these similar circumstances. And then she thought back to one particular day...

"Baaack!" announced Ames cheerfully, appearing through the swinging door. She held out a cup of tea to Phoebe. "Drink up, darling, looks like you really need it. Thank God I used my strongest leaves." Phoebe acquiesced silently and drank the tea, remembering how Ames' tea in the past had helped revive her from worse hangovers. Remembering how it was like to even have a hangover at all.

"Ames," said Phoebe after taking a long draught of the tea, unable to keep the tiniest of quivers out of her voice. "What's today?"

"The 24th. Thursday."

Phoebe hesitated. "Of?"

Ames gave her a look. "October. Phoebe, are you OK? You don't seem to remember anything, and you look like you've just been hit over the head by a mallet."

Phoebe shook her head. "Ames, I'm fine. Last night was just a little crazy." Too bad she couldn't tell her that she knew nothing about it. Though actually... "In fact, I don't seem to remember much of it at all."

However, Ames seemed to find her question even more intriguing. "You danced. You drank. The usual. Well, maybe you drank a little more than usual, but its nothing you're not used to. You know, I'm beginning to think somebody slipped something into your drink. But," she added quickly, "nothing would've happened to you. I was with you the whole time."

Phoebe nodded, lost in her thoughts. It probably wouldn't be such a good idea to ask Ames what the year is. She was brought out of them by Ames' voice yet again. "Well," she was saying, "Do you think you need to stay home from class? I know you have your test and all, and I know you told me you needed to study, but if you need to stay, it's fine. Your class is in two hours, by the way—it's 8:30 now."

"No, it's OK," Phoebe responded, slowly getting up. She needed answers, and she certainly couldn't get them by staying in this apartment. She took her class schedule, which she had noticed while she was drinking the tea, off her nightstand, and observed it. San Francisco University. Thursday...sociology. Well, she took it once before, and from the looks of it, with the same professor as well. She would have to stick through it. From what she knew about alternate universes...it was better not to stir things up and cause trouble. At least, not until she had a better grip on what's going on. Who had sent her here? What was their purpose? "Can I get a ride?" Phoebe asked, remembering that Ames knew how to drive and hoping she had a car.

"Sure," she responded. Ames got up and started to leave the room. "Oh," she said, turning back. "Don't forget about your job. You'll get fired for sure if you don't show up one more time."

"Right." Phoebe widened her eyes in alarm. What job did she have? She checked the back of her schedule, breathed a sigh of relief, and then choked up again. Sure enough, it had her job's schedule, as well as the place and address. But she was a—manicurist? She got up from her bed, aches already clearing, but was as bewildered as ever. She didn't even know if this was an alternate universe, but she had to admit it was the best explanation she had. Nevertheless, she started rummaging through her wardrobe, glad that her taste, at least, was still more or less in tact, according to the clothes she found. She tossed on a fitted black tank top, jumped into a pair of jeans she actually owned in her universe (if she was indeed in another universe), and put on a sweater on top. She brushed her hair, marveling at how good she looked with it, and dabbed on some makeup. She grabbed the textbooks that she knew came with the class, the schedule as well, and hurried out of her room.

Phoebe immediately hit upon her and Ames' living room, which had a bold green decor. Leave it to Ames to make the most out of something, Phoebe mused with a half smile. It was a small place, but it seemed twice as big, the way it was set up. The door immediately adjacent to hers was Ames' room (she could see the red paint from the partially open door), and she had to guess the door a little further down her right side was the bathroom. The kitchen doorway was directly in front of her, across the living room. So the exit would be that door on the left near the kitchen. Phoebe searched for a little table where she knew she would find her keys and such—and sure enough, there it was, in between her door and Ames, littered with her keys, wallet, and even a cell phone. She felt like she knew this apartment already; she had shared one not unlike this one with the same person in New York.

Phoebe set her books on the small table and hurried to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth (she would have to shower when she got back later) and spritzed hairspray onto her head. She grabbed her things and headed for the door, pausing only slightly at the kitchen entrance. Then she decided against it; if things go well, she could grab a freshly-baked muffin from her real home's kitchen. Assuming that she had sisters at all in this world.

She went down three flights of stairs; into a modest but comfortable lobby; then out into the street, where Ames was waiting at the corner in a black Corolla. Phoebe ran to the passenger seat and slammed the door behind her.

"In a hurry, aren't we?" commented Ames a bit dryly as she pulled onto the road. "Knowing you, you're probably not rushing off to school to go read up on your lessons but somewhere else instead."

"Actually, yes," said Phoebe, leaning back into the upholstery, her headache not completely gone. "Can you take me to Piper and Paige?"

Ames looked surprised, then a bit puzzled, but whatever thought she found puzzling she apparently dismissed. "You mean your sisters?" She took her eyes off the road long enough to see Phoebe nod yes. "So what made you change your mind to never see them ever again?"

Phoebe shrugged and made a non-committal sound, even though she knew that Ames wouldn't accept that as an answer. So she had sworn off her sisters in this universe? That doesn't sound very promising..."I dunno."

"Oh, please!" Ames nearly lifted her hands off the steering wheel in annoyance, and muttered something to herself in Spanish. "You aren't going to get so easily past me like that, you know. What happened to all those nightly rants about how they will never accept you as a human being and rejecting them as a part of your family?" She paused as she swerved past a couple of slow cars. "Before you begin explaining, though, you might want to tell me how to get there."

Phoebe smiled, despite the circumstances. She never realized how much she had missed her friends from New York. "From here?..." She gave the directions and waited until she saw the assent from Ames, then continued, a bit more hesitantly. "About seeing my sisters...I just have a few things to sort out with them. Just drop me off there, I'll catch a ride elsewhere after that. OK?"

"Sure." They rode the rest of the ride in comfortable silence.

A/N(2): Please review, and if you have any input, it would be greatly appreciated. Til next time!