A/N: Next installment in the story. Please review afterwards!

Love's Intervention
Chapter Nine: The Dinner Party

"Phoebe, would you please pass the salt?" asked Piper from the stove.

Phoebe smiled and passed it, making sure not to spill any. She was helping Piper with her cooking, since she was kind enough to invite her over for dinner. It kind of reminded her of their potion-making sessions—except that these concoctions were for them to eat, and not for vanquishing. Also, it was the one place where she could escape Dan. Phoebe felt extremely uncomfortable near him, feeling strangely like she was hanging out with Piper's illicit lover.

Speaking of Dan—damn it, here he is again, Phoebe thought to herself. He smiled politely at her, and she smiled politely back. "Excuse me," she said to Piper, and hurried herself out of there.

Dan raised his eyebrow, then looked back to his wife. "Your sister sure is strange," he said. "I keep getting the impression that she's avoiding me."

Piper chuckled. "She probably doesn't want to get caught in another situation with her sisters' significant others." She pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for buying the groceries," she said sincerely. He simply smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose. For a second there, Piper felt like she did when they were engaged, felt the thrill of being in love with her man. Just as she was about to say something, he pulled back and checked his watch.

"Time to set the VCR to Oscar de la Hoya," he announced. He flounced out of the kitchen without as much of a second glance toward his wife.

Piper stood there, staring at the spot where her husband had been, and sighed.

Meanwhile, Phoebe was loitering outside in the hall, near the steps, wondering what she should do to occupy herself. Maybe she should call and check up on Leo—frankly, she was worried about him. As much as she was sure that Nancy, his nurse, was taking good care of him, she couldn't help but fret for the man who was like a brother to her. If he got seriously sick, what would she do?

Just then, the doorbell rang. Phoebe panicked and raced toward it. What if it was Leo in one of his senile bouts to go see Piper or something? If he saw Dan here—he'd have a heart attack right on the spot. She hurriedly pulled the door open and was about to lead Leo back to his house when she realized it wasn't him. Instead, a taller and younger (well, at least younger-looking) man stood in front of her.

Cole smiled at her and raised his arm, showing the bottle of wine he held. "Hi, Phoebe," he greeted her.

She didn't know what to say. All she could think about was how she had forgotten how tall he was, being used to Jason's shorter stature. "Piper invited you?" she managed.

He nodded. "Yeah." Cole felt his confidence slowly deflating as doubts began to invade him. What was it about this woman that caused him to act this way? So unsure of himself, so desperate for her approval?

She gave him a look of such distrust that he nearly turned on his heel and left. It was like she knew he had dreamt of holding a knife to her neck. But before he could react, she had opened the door wider.

As he walked in, Cole handed Phoebe the bottle of wine he was holding. Phoebe examined the label. It was the kind of chardonnay that Cole loved, and it dated back to 1993. Expensive. This was Cole, alright. But did it also include Belthazor? Phoebe held the bottle out to him. "You should probably give this back to Piper," she advised, "Since she's the hostess after all."

A look of confusion passed over his face, but he smiled, almost to himself, as if he was chiding himself for being silly. "Of course," he said. "It's really rather strange—I've known Prue and Piper for almost three months, but you seem to slip right in there. It's like I've known you all this time." He reached out to take it back, and in doing so, their fingers brushed.

Suddenly, Phoebe was all-too aware that she had swapped saliva with this supposedly evil being just hours before. She felt her face flush and turned away, then immediately reprimanded herself for doing so. She had looked him straight in the eye when she vanquished him, so she certainly can when their fingers touched. She's touched far more personal places on him than that to be such a schoolgirl about it.

And so she turned back to look at him, defiance and anger written in every single line of her face. Cole started when he saw that look—it was that same look that dream-Phoebe had given him before she threw the glass of red liquid at ? Phoebe?" They both turned around to see Prue standing there with a puzzled expression on her face, looking at each of them in turn. "Piper wanted me to tell you. Dinner's ready."

"Right!" Phoebe exclaimed, beaming at her oldest sister. "I'll go and see whether Piper needs any help—"

"In that case, I'll go with you, since I have some wine to deliver," Cole interrupted.

Phoebe trailed off. "OK then." She walked off, Cole following very closely behind her.

Prue looked after the two of them as Phoebe picked up her pace and Cole matched it. Was it just her, or was there some chemistry there? Prue pondered over that. She should be angry—no, she should be stark-raving furious—but, for some incredibly strange reason, she wasn't. She was feeling—distrust. But not for Phoebe; for Cole. Prue was feeling protective of Phoebe. Huh. Imagine that. "It's a big sister thing," Prue sighed, a small smile forming on her lips.

Ten minutes later, the three Halliwell sisters, Dan, and Cole were seated around the dining table, digging into the Piper-made feast. As usual, there was plenty of food to go around, and so everyone busied themselves by eating. Soon, however, the silence became a bit awkward as people looked up from their plates and at each other.

Piper couldn't take the silence that was eating away at their dinner party (excuse the pun) and so tried to start up a conversation. "How is college?" she asked Phoebe.

"Um, its fine. I should be graduating by the spring," she answered.

"Great," responded Piper. "Do you have any ideas of what you'll do after you graduate?"

Phoebe smiled slightly. "Well, I'm taking psychology, so I want to be able to help others with it. Save the innocents, if you will," she continued, her grin growing wider.

"I can just see it. 'Phoebe Halliwell, Protector of the Innocents' on your office door," Piper laughed, who had made her joke in innocent earnest.

Phoebe chuckled half-heartedly. "Well, I don't know about the plaque," she murmured, looking down at her plate of food. "By the way, the food is incredible, as usual," Phoebe said, trying to cover up the silence that had started to creep back out again. "I've really been missing out these past years."

"I'll say," Pure said suddenly. Phoebe looked at her, half-fearing a fight similar to this morning's. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the same expression on Piper and Cole's faces—even Dan, who was sensing something wrong.

"I mean, when you left, Piper was still in the middle of her training as a chef," Prue continued. "Now you get all her experience at once, not like me. My stomach had to deal with all her culinary mistakes." Prue grinned, a bit sheepishly, and Phoebe returned it.

"Hey!" Piper exclaimed, reaching over to smack her older sister on the arm, albeit with a giant smile on her face that she didn't bother to conceal. No wonder—the room had suddenly gotten a lot less chilly as a collective sigh ran through the room.

And so the conversation really started, more between the three sisters than between the whole collective group. Phoebe asked many questions of her sisters, especially Prue, since Phoebe knew more or less what happened with Piper. Phoebe told stories of her time in New York, drawing from both her own experiences and the diary that she had just read. Phoebe did however ask Piper extensively about her wedding, and contemplatively compared it to Piper and Leo's wedding. No handfasting was involved with a ghost as head priestess; instead, the traditional wedding was held in a large cathedral with many guests present, and the time spent afterwards was at the Bahamas in a long, uninterrupted honeymoon.

Prue seemed to be doing well at 415; she was rapidly moving up in the ranks of the magazine, and one of her photos had even made the front cover. Phoebe listened intently at the sisters' anecdotes, both individual and combined, and didn't know whether to weep or laugh. The stories were wonderful, and some familiar even without her presence in them, but it made Phoebe realize just how life would have been if Prue had continued to live on. The situation was both wonderful and tragic, and though she reveled in Prue's company, she felt herself being slowly pulled in different directions.

Cole watched as Phoebe conversed with her estranged sisters, observing her every reaction and movement with a lawyer's eye. He was curious at the way she was asking her questions and receiving the answers. Piper had blushed profusely when Phoebe had asked about the wedding, since it was obvious that Phoebe wasn't present, but Phoebe seemed to almost totally disregard this discomfiture and plowed right on with her near interrogation.

He was even more distracted with the stories that she had told of her time in New York. A hostess at the Rainbow Room, an escort at Carnegie Hall, her position at Chelsea Piers—her words described a free spirited woman who was out finding herself, but the person in front of him seemed different. There was some sort of solemnity to her that didn't seem to befit her stories—or befit her, period. Also, the way that she told her stories—with an odd sense of detachment, like she was describing a time that was far into her past, although it had only been a couple of years. Cole wondered to himself about what could have possibly made her change in such a drastic way.

At one point in the conversation, in which Prue was talking about the auction house she used to work at, Phoebe glanced casually in Cole's direction and froze when his eyes caught hers. They stared at each other for a second, until Phoebe looked away and gave a barely noticeable shudder. Cole continued to gaze at her, even though he knew on some level that it was a bit rude. But he couldn't help but staring; it was as if his eyes (not to mention other parts of his body) couldn't get enough of their fill of her, and a little voice in the back of his head would practically sing whenever he took in her silky hair, or soft hands.

As Prue wrapped up her story, Phoebe spoke up again; yet this time, the question was not directed to any of her sisters. "Where did you and Prue met?" she asked softly, her eyes meeting Cole's.

"Uh, well," answered Cole, slightly surprised at this suddenly turn toward him, "we met—well, actually, I met both Prue and Piper at the same time, when I was an A.D.A. They were around the area of a crime, and I was there to investigate."

She nodded, her right hand curling slightly around her salad fork. Meanwhile, Piper, oblivious to the exchange between Phoebe and Cole, rose from her seat. Looking around at the empty plates before her, she said, "I think that I should begin cleaning up."

"Of course," replied Phoebe immediately, standing up to help Piper clear away the plates even as Piper made deterring sounds. Prue stood up as well.

"Piper, sit down, you've worked hard enough on this dinner," she said, putting an emphasis on her words that Piper understood right away. "I'll help Phoebe." They retreated to the kitchen, carrying dishes in their arms, as Piper ushered her husband and Cole into the living room.

The two sisters silently put their plates on the countertop, careful not to cause them any damage. Phoebe pulled open the dish washer door and started to pile the dishes in, as Prue hung a bit in the background. "Be careful with those," Prue said as she observed her younger sister with her arms crossed. "Piper wants them—" Prue paused as she watched Phoebe pile the antique plates to the side. "Hand washed." Phoebe turned around and gave her a small smile.

"Phoebe, I—" Prue took an uncertain step toward Phoebe, as she seemed to lose the ability to find words to speak. Then she threw up her hands in a "what-can-I-do?" posture and planted her feet firmly on the ground. "I'm sorry."

The youngest Halliwell (youngest in this world) looked at Prue in complete surprise. Even when they were the best of friends, Prue was never known to say that she was sorry. Prue smiled when she saw Phoebe's reaction. "I am. I was such a jerk to you today, even though I knew you were in the right."

Phoebe nodded, almost timidly. "I'm sorry too." Her words carried just as much weight as Prue's did. "I've missed you so much, Prue. I'm sorry for running away. I'm sorry for—" her voice broke slightly and she stopped, as she thought beyond this day and time. She spoke again, in a tone barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for not being there."

Prue walked over and wrapped her arms around Phoebe, the woman that she would always consider to be her little kid sister. "You're here now, that's what counts, right? Let bygones be bygones." It was a start, Prue thought as she patted Phoebe on the back. And it's a very good start. "I've missed you too."

They finished loading the dish washer and turned it on, then went to the living room together, leaving the antique plates for a later time.