I never actually thought about a timeline for this… I just wrote it, heh. I'm making it up as I go along, so please bear with me.
Piper paced with the cordless phone glued to her ear, constantly ringing Phoebe's cell phone. She stabbed the disconnect button, pursed her lips and rubbed a hand over her eyes. Where was Phoebe? She'd called her sister's office, and they had said that they would call when she came in, and ever since she'd been trying her cell. She got halfway through dialling again before remembering that this new phone had redial, but slammed the phone back down on its base anyway and strode through the dining room, stepping over one of the chairs.
The table had been overturned and all of the chairs thrown against the wall. One had shattered the mirror above the fireplace. Piper sighed, realizing that there was no way she was going to heave the table over by herself and settled for putting the chairs back in place, all except the one at the head of the table, which was missing a leg. She leant it against the sideboard and put the leg on the cushioned seat before turning to look elsewhere. Everything else looked fine, she thought, as she pushed all of her weight against the sideboard to straighten it and righted the knocked-over candlesticks.
The sunroom wasn't in too bad a state either, save for the sweeping that needed to be done from all of Paige's projectiles. She bent at the waist and winced, feeling Chris give her a kidney shot. She stayed bent for a second before picking up the scattered cushions, plumping them, and putting them back on their respective chairs and couches.
She eyed the shattered double doors to the parlour and frowned, just as an end table came whizzing past. She blinked and tried to get through the door, but the lamp that used to be on said end table came flying past as well and she was forced to step back. Looking left and right as if she were crossing a busy street, she stepped into the room and nearly fell over in shock.
The parlour had been transformed into some wild and wacky Fantasia scene. Furniture and debris were swirling through the air in mini orb-light tornadoes, crashing into a trashcan or coming to rest in its rightful place.
Other objects were moving in great long lines of their own accord, and Piper was yet again reminded of another childhood movie – this time The Sword in the Stone - in particular the scene in which Merlin was packing.
Ducking under a airborne broken picture frame she managed to weave her way to the centre of the room and collapsed on the couch, which gave her a good enough view of her son and half-sister orchestrating the cleanup. She shrieked as fallen magazines soared towards her head, disappearing in orbs just as they were about to hit her.
Okay, that was it. They hadn't even noticed her, and it looked like they were actually having fun breaking the basic no-personal gain rules. They were even fighting over pieces of debris, and when Grams's Tiffany lamp – somehow unbroken which meant she would be spared her grandmother's wrath of her next spectral visit – switched from orbing to flying five times over she snapped.
"STOP!" She yelled suddenly, jumping up. Shards dropped themselves on their way to the trashcan and the lamp dropped to the floor, shattering before she could even think about freezing it. "No…"
"Mom, hey," Chris said, blinking as his mother fought to free herself from the depths of the couch.
"Busted," Paige admitted, pulling a face and putting her hands behind her back. "Any luck with finding Phoebe?"
"No…" Piper was momentarily thrown. "But don't change the subject, missy. Am I the only one that even thinks about personal gain anymore?" She turned to Chris. "And I thought you said you weren't on cleanup duty?"
"Well, we got talking and seeing as we're both telekinetic and hate cleaning up destruction…" Paige started, but saw Piper's nostrils flare. "Oh, lighten up. It was a little bit of magical cleaning. I'm sure the Powers That Be won't need a psychiatrist to get over it," Paige said, rolling her eyes and waving her hand dismissively.
"And what if they do, huh? Didja think about that before you went all Mickey Mouse on the place? Huh?"
"Mickey Mouse?" Chris echoed, confused.
"You don't know who Mickey Mouse is?" Paige said, in apparent shock. "Shame on you, Piper. Not showing the kid any Disney."
"I know who Mickey Mouse is," Chris said, closing his eyes momentarily against the ridiculous nature of the conversation. "I just…" he caught his mother's murderous look as they threatened to get off topic again. "I just gotta go and find out who sent those demons. Later."
His orbing lights disappeared into the floor, deaf to Piper's protests. She turned her gaze on Paige, but her half-sister made a couple of thinking noises, looked as if she'd had an epiphany, said that she was going to look for Phoebe and broke into blue lights which disappeared through the ceiling.
"Doesn't anyone use the door anymore?" Piper called angrily to the ceiling, but got no reply from the plaster. Maybe it didn't know. Silently fuming she pulled herself up from the couch, nearly falling back down as she slipped – again - on a corner of a magazine poking out from under the couch. A tiny voice was appealing to her exasperation and niggling in the back of her brain, telling her that magic had done a good job so far… She chewed on her bottom lip, putting her hand on her stomach as she contemplated. "You know what, Powers That Be? Screw you." She got halfway through saying a spell from memory when the doorbell rang.
Blinking and looking to the clock on the wall only to find that her foot was actually on one of the hands she let out an exasperated breath as the doorbell chimed again. She threw her hands up in the air. "I'M COMING ALREADY!" She yelled in the direction of the foyer, stalking across the debris to the living room, so she could check the time on the grandfather clock and work out if they were expecting anyone. Her watch didn't fit her anymore – apparently wrists were just as prone to swelling as ankles were during pregnancy. Chris was beginning to owe her a lot.
"Oh, gimme a break…" she whined, half-heatedly stamping her foot onto the pendulum of the clock, which bent to being sort-of flat again. The clock was barely a rectangle scorch mark on the wall now and as the doorbell chimed again she really felt her temper rise and stormed over to the front door and wrenched it open. If this was one of Phoebe or Paige's lovesick boyfriends, so help her…
"Mrs Bernard… Hi…" Piper searched the woman's face for a reason she was standing on her front doormat looking pissed. Oh boy… She squirmed her way half out of the door, keeping it as closed as possible to make sure her neighbour didn't see the mess.
Mrs Bernard was a widow in her late sixties with two grandchildren. Her fading light brown hair bore many streaks of grey in it and she wore a light grey pencil skirt and a cream silk blouse that was ruffled down the front. The pearls on a string around her neck and the glasses dangling at around the height of her breastbone on a chain made her look like some kind of friendly librarian, although Piper new otherwise. This woman had been a schoolteacher and at the last neighbourhood bake sale had succeeded in making Piper feel just as small as one of her pupils. This was quite a feat, seeing as Piper readily admitted to being headstrong. What's more the woman had whipped up a coffee cake that had very nearly rivalled Piper's own, when she knew – knew – that a coffee cake was going to be Piper's contribution. It had taken a lot of Leo's counselling before she was ready to face her without blowing the stupid cake up.
"Can I help you?"
"Emma was disturbed from her nap by the raucous activity going on inside your house," the old woman started, not-so-subtly trying to peer around Piper's shoulder through the crack in the door.
"Heh…" Piper smiled and stepped outside, closing the door behind her and thanking whatever deity was listening that last time Leo has replaced the doors – when was that? Had they actually gone a whole six months without needing knew ones? – they had had him install frosted glass panels. "Emma?" She enquired politely, motioning for Mrs Bernard to take a seat on the bench in the porch. She didn't and Piper – tired and pregnant as she was – was damned if she was going to lose out to an old lady and remained standing also.
"My granddaughter," the grandmother replied in clipped tones. "And she was in a bedroom all the way across the street! I don't know what you've got going on in there, and quite frankly I'm not sure I want to know, but you have to keep the noise down. Parties are for your nightclub, not your home. This is a residential area, might I add, and this is just not acceptable!
"I hear nothing, nothing from this house but crashes and screaming and thumps and bumps and who knows what else. It's really time you did something about it. I mean, I thought your grandmother was bad. A lady of her age throwing that kind of party, I mean honestly. But you girls… It stops now, Piper, you hear me? This instant!"
Piper wondered when they'd progressed to first-name terms, because she sure as hell hadn't been the one to start it. She didn't even know Mrs Bernard's first name. Part of her was angered at the cheek of the woman to come over and complain, but part of her knew that Mrs Bernard was right. It wasn't that she welcomed the demon attacks and the mess and the noise more than anyone else, but it was bad enough Hell take it out on them, let alone the neighbours.
"Today… That was the worst in a while, Piper…" Mrs Bernard was still talking. Joy. Her lips were moving but the sound just washed over the witch. She found herself idly wondering if Mrs Bernard still had all of her own teeth, because if her suspicions were correct… She had completely drifted off now into a fantasy of freezing her and having Paige call for the woman's dentures when Mrs Bernard snapped her out of it by doubling the volume of her tirade.
The smile on her face must have been inappropriate because Mrs Bernard scowled and the smile dropped off Piper's face like a stone. "I'm sorry, the baby's kicking."
God, I wish he would kick you.
"Are you actually going to raise a child in this environment?"
Did she just? Oooh… She did… Piper's jaw dropped. Okay, this was it. No more Mr Nice Woman. Oh, excellent, an oxymoron. Perfect. And who the hell was she talking to?
"Yes, actually, I am. I've already raised one damn good one, thank you very much." Well. Chris. "And when I want your opinion on my family and parenting skills, I will ask you for it. Is that all?"
Mrs Bernard's face hardened. "Well if you really feel like that, then I'll simply tell you to stop that weird boy hanging around. And I'll bid you good day."
She strode away down the steps and tutted as she looked Piper's SUV up and down. She probably thought it polluted the air or something. Actually it took unleaded fuel and had a catalyst converter. So nyah. Oh, so what if she was feeling childish today? It wouldn't be the first time.
The witch standing fuming in the porch had to employ all of her self control not to blow that woman to pieces. How dare she talk about Chris like that? Weird boy. Pfft. As if she'd know what weird was. And anyway, when was the last time Chris had even been outside, rather than poring over a map, or a book, or a book with maps in? As it was her fingers twitched and she blew up a flowerpot accidentally. The tinkling of terracotta shards brought Mrs Bernard's head whipping round and Piper gave a small wave.
"A little bit of advice Mrs Bernard?" She said, smiling sweetly. "If the lace curtains in your windows are blocking the view of our house, then TAKE THEM DOWN," she ended with a snarl, turning on her heel and slamming the door so hard a small pane of the coloured glass fell out. "THIS IS SO NOT MY DAY!" She growled, the red shards just adding to the cluttered floor.
She leant against the door, breathing slowly and deeply before straightening, swallowing, and smiling. She took one look at the trashed parlour, couldn't even find the energy to complete her earlier spell, and stepped over it all towards the stairs.
Paige had borrowed her meditation CD. It was probably in her room somewhere…
Don't Look Under the Bed
"You haven't seen her?" Paige asked Elise. Elise was walking at a brisk pace around the bullpen, handing out sheets of paper to everyone. Paige struggled to keep up the pace despite having the longer legs, and nearly ploughed into her sister's boss when the older woman turned.
"Oh, excuse me!" Elise snapped, obviously flustered, firmly pushing Paige out of the way with the hand that didn't have the stack of papers in. She started walking in the opposite direction, but Paige caught up. "Look, Piper…"
"Paige."
"Oh, I don't have time for names!" Elise barked, closing her eyes and putting her free hand to her temple. Calmer now she took off her glasses, held them at waist height and said, "I'm very sorry you're sister is missing, but not nearly as sorry as she will be when she realizes that she's missed her slot on the radio this afternoon, okay? Now will you please stop bothering me and go and look for my advice columnist?"
Paige found herself ushered to the door and was soon staring at her sister's poster on the corridor wall. Blinking and not completely sure what just happened she frowned, checking the corridor before orbing out.
Don't Look Under the Bed
Chris could feel cold and damp grains of sand pressing against his stomach, but he didn't dare shift position to adjust his shirt. He was barely hidden as it was behind a pile of stones that looked like they'd come from a recent cave in, judging by the face that the ceiling was a lot thinner just above him.
It looked like a group of warlocks. But they weren't talking about the Fuoco demons that had attacked the house today. Not that Chris was particularly surprised. Demons didn't normally share their plans with warlocks. They didn't trust each other. But there might be some kind of snippet, something he could use…
There was an athame tucked into the back waistband on his jeans and he moved ever so slightly to pull it out and take the hilt in his hand. Apparently all he had to make was that small scuffling noise and the warlocks were onto him. Crap.
"Who's there?" Chris took a deep breath and didn't let it out, praying that he wouldn't be found. A half-witch with an athame against eight warlocks? He didn't stand much of a chance. He didn't want to orb out either, just in case they thought that the noise was nothing and continued talking. They had to know something about Wyatt…
"I bet it's one of those demon scouts again… Go look."
"I'm not sensing a demonic signature in the vicinity…"
"Then it's nothing. Demons are too stupid to master anything but basic subtlety. They'd never cloak their spies," a warlock said, sneering.
Chris relaxed as they went back to talking, albeit in more hushed tones, listening for the slightest noise. Suddenly someone orbing in deafened him. He jumped about a foot in the air. Jeez, he never realized how loud and conspicuous orbing was…
The warlocks all immediately turned to the new arrival. Chris caught sight of a golden robe hovering just above the sandy floor and groaned, tilting his head to look up at his father.
"This really isn't a good time, Leo," he hissed, jerking his head towards the warlocks, which his father had his back to. The Elder didn't get the hint and gave him a hurt look. "Alright then. Dad. But, Dad,you need to leave."
"I can't sense Phoebe. Do you have any idea where she is? And… Why are you lying on the floor?"
Chris surged up and tackled his father around the knees, knocking him backwards over the rock pile and exposing himself in the process just as a darklighter's arrow sliced through the air where Leo had once been. A warlock and darklighter mix. Perfect.
He whipped his arm into the air and with a flick of his wrist turned the arrow around and impaled either a warlock of a darklighter through the forehead, vanquishing him. These guys needed neon signs to tell them apart.
"Now will you get out of here?" He hissed at Leo as another arrow left a dark purple smear on a rock not far from his neck. He flicked his wrist at that one as well, but missed his target as the warlock blinked out and back in again.
Leo tore off a strip of what was apparently very flimsy Elder robe and wrapped it around the shaft of another arrow, carefully making sure he didn't touch it, and then picked it up to test the weight of the weapon. "Not a chance," he said grimly, refusing to abandon his son. His good parenting started now. He orbed out and orbed in behind the group, stabbing one of them in the back. The arrowhead snapped off and disappeared in the flames as the evil-doer died, so he had to use the jagged shaft to stab another victim. He was able to yank it out of the inferno just in time to prevent losing it, but the cloth shifted and a searing pain that felt like his skin was boiling shot through his unprotected wrist.
The wound was like a raised welt, deep purple and throbbing. Leo dropped the arrow through instinct alone, just as Chris jumped from his hiding place over the pile of rocks and flung a barrage of arrows away from his father.
"GO!" Chris yelled, ducking his own arrows. There were still five on the group left, and four of them were darklighters. He got all of the best luck, he thought grimly as he used an arrow to try to vanquish one of the darklighters that was aiming again as his Elder father. "DAD!"
Leo orbed out, his roar echoing through his orbing lights. "GET OUT, NOW!"
An impact between the witch-whitelighter's shoulder blades sent blistering pain shooting around his body, before it cooled rapidly to turn icy. He fell forward, the feathers ruffling in the darklighter's triumphant laugh as he tried to call out to his father's orbing lights, but nothing but a choked cry came out.
There were nine in the group, not eight.
Don't Look Under the Bed
Piper stood in the middle of Paige's room with her hands on her hips. It looked like a hurricane had ripped through here. A breeze blew in from the open window and tickled the back of her neck, only emphasizing her point. She sighed and began looking around the room for her CD.
The bed hadn't been made yet, and one of the pillows had gone AWOL in the night. Piper suspected it was the lump at the foot of the bed beneath the covers. She absently dumped the wayward comforter into a pile in the middle of the bed and stepped over a pair of shoes. Near the window an easel appeared to be doing the job of a clothes hanger. Piper supposed it worked, considering that none of them owned a StairMaster.
If her CD was out of its case or scratched or smudged… She suddenly realized that if she were Paige she would have left her guru in the CD player and began crossing back to the other side of them room when she noticed something glinting under the bed.
Was that her CD? Under the bed? Ooh, Paige was going to get it now… After trying and failing to bend she used the bed to heave herself down onto her knees for a closer inspection. No, it was just an earring back. Realizing that she now had to get up again, Piper braced herself and then managed to get back onto her feet before stepping backwards and nearly tripping over a chunky sandal left smack bang in the middle of the floor. Determined she was not going to land on her butt twice in the same hour, let alone day, she grabbed the bedside table and righted herself, but not before knocking the entire contents of the nightstand onto the floor. Her sister's alarm clock slid off and fell to the floor, the flex trailing after it.
As she pulled up the clock she wondered what she was doing up here. She should have stayed in the kitchen, had some crackers. She had completely forgotten why she had hauled her pregnant ass up all of those stairs and as she replaced the alarm clock and the other items she realized that a tube of lipstick had rolled under the bed.
"PAIGE!" Piper whined, wishing her sister could leave her makeup on her vanity table like the rest of them. The lipstick was mocking her, daring her to come and tidy it away and stop the mess, so she got back onto her knees and went to grab it.
The impact behind her made her spin in fright and she fell off of her knees and, surprise surprise, back onto her butt. Maybe she just shouldn't get up anymore She almost blew up the intruder before discovering that it was Leo, and he had orbed right into the armchair Paige had next to her desk/vanity table. Leo had landed so hard he had rocked the chair right off the two front legs before his weight slammed down again.
"Chris… Chris… Where's Chris? Hasn't he orbed in yet?" Piper noticed beads of sweat on his brow and moved forward concernedly, but Leo shook his head and got up out of the chair. "We've got to go and get him! Come on!"
"Wha-? Leo!" Piper squeaked, surprised at the intensity of the grip he held on to her wrist with. Suddenly they broke into an orb cloud and disappeared through the floor.
Don't Look Under the Bed
Chris's world spun back into painful consciousness. He was being dragged under the arms across the floor. Vaguely, he could feel his sneakers filling up with sand, but his toes were going all tingly and numb anyway, so it wasn't as if he'd be feeling it. Maybe they'd hit his spinal cord…
Just as he was about to black out again he heard voices and forced himself to listen. Must save Wyatt… Must save Wyatt… Gather information, save Wyatt…
"Is he dead?"
Someone kicked him, and he grunted.
"Nope."
"Did we get the Elder?"
"Orbed clean out of here."
"Damn. Well, who's going to take this arrow out? He can't talk if he's being pumped full of poison, can he?"
There was a wrenching pain greater than that of the arrow going in, and Chris gave a quiet mew of pain, whimpering as tears stung his eyes. His captors laughed and pulled harder, and as the arrow's barbed head came free he fell back to the floor. He was tempted to blackout again. The darkness was hovering on the peripherals of his vision, and he knew it would be bliss if he would just let it close in…
A sharp backhand slap to his cheek dispelled the comforting darkness and left him with painful, dizzying stars. He groaned and tried to roll over back onto his stomach, not remembering when they'd turned him on his back. Maybe he should orb… Yeah…
Must save Wyatt. Must save Wyatt…
He tried to summon his orbing power, but nothing happened. Not even the most tenuous of glimmers emerged from his body and he let his head drop back to the floor and groaned, defeated and at the mercy of evil.
Well, it wouldn't be the first time.
"Special batch of the poison. You're not going anywhere…"
"Really?" Chris heard his mother's voice and looked up at her, just as the darklighter standing above him exploded. "Cuz I'm in the mood to disagree."
The remaining group members reached for weapons, but Piper worked through them all, blowing them up, fuelled by anger. They'd kicked her son! She and Leo had stayed back for a while so Leo could fill her in, and they'd kicked him. She flexed her fingers. Finally, something she could really vent her anger on. Something that would scream, not just shatter like a plant pot.
"Step away from my son!" She growled, vanquishing the last of them. "Have a nice time down in purgatory, guys. Hope it's not too warm for ya," she spat, taking Leo's hand – which was oddly and uncharacteristically clammy – and half-dragged him over to Chris. Why was he so out of it?
"Chris, honey, can you hear me?" She smoothed hair back from his forehead and he smiled slightly, trying to speak.
"Mom…" the half-witch half-whispered, before his head slumped again and he finally gave into that sweet analeptic unconsciousness he had desired for.
Don't Look Under the Bed
Chris was lying on his side on the attic couch. Leo's hands were glowing, but the golden light kept flickering on and off, like a light bulb that was faulty. Piper, however, was bent over a map with Paige scrying for Phoebe and didn't notice. Chris still wasn't awake either and had no idea that his father just kept getting sicker by the minute.
Gradually, however, Chris moaned and rolled so that he was facing the room and blinked up at Leo, giving his father a watery greeting as the wound in his back sealed. Screwing his face up into a grimace, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and faced the room.
"I am so sorry. I didn't even realize there was another darklighter…"
"It's okay; you're fine now, right?" Leo asked, checking his son's face for a response.
"Yeah, thanks… Dad." The words felt odd, so unused, but if he was going to truly get used to this thing then he needed to lubricate the mechanics a little bit, and he smiled again, leaning forwards.
Leo grinned back and went to ruffle Chris's hair, when his son suddenly recoiled in horror.
"Oh my God, you're bleeding!"
Leo looked down at his arm, where rivulets of black blood were soaking into his Elder robes. The purple welt had burst and was oozing deep, dark violaceous poison. "A darklighter's arrow scratched my wrist. I didn't even touch the tip – it was the shaft," Leo dismissed, trying to rearrange his robes over it. He was about to ask for news on Phoebe when Paige broke in.
"Leo, that is not a scratch," his sister-in-law said, putting the crystal down. "That is one nasty wound… Lemme see that…"
Leo snatched his hand away from Paige. "Don't touch it; it might infect you too…"
"Well how else am I going to heal it?" She said, walking closer to him. "I'll just channel your powers again, I'll only touch it for a second…"
"I already nearly got Chris killed earlier by revealing him. I'm not going to hurt anymore of my family today!" He orbed off ceiling-wards.
"LEO!" Piper yelled. "Leo, you better be getting your ass right to those Elders so they can heal you, or I'll-" She trailed off, unable to think of anything off the top of her head. "I'll do something really bad. Yeah, you wait… You'll be sorry if you're not Up There getting healed right now…"
Paige and Chris exchanged hidden smiles, knowing full well that, with whitelighter senses, when you didn't want to listen, you could block everything out.
Don't Look Under the Bed
Paige sighed and flopped onto her bed, the mattress groaning under her. It felt like ages since the demons had attacked this morning, and she'd been orbing all over town trying to find Phoebe since then. She'd been to three different salons, a health spa, China Town and - just in case Phoebe had mysteriously developed teleportation abilities – the top of Golden Gate Bridge.
And now she was tired. She looked around at her organized clutter and smiled contentedly before sitting up straight and Indian style. While Chris and Piper worked the scrying crystal, she was going to be down here in the quiet and try to sense Phoebe. It was a bit hit-and-miss, and she knew that Leo, with his infinitely more powerful Elder senses had failed, but she could do it if she really tried and besides, she was Phoebe's sister. There was more of a connection.
"Okay, Pheebs… Where are you?" She closed her eyes, took a deep breath in and concentrated on her sister. She'd just seen more than one larger-than-life-size version of her the middle Halliwell on billboards as she appeared and disappeared all around the city looking for her, so her face was pretty fresh in her mind. "C'mon, show me what you've got…"
An image began to flicker into view across the back of her closed eyelids and she relaxed some more, letting it come. She saw a house… Good… A house with Jeep on the drive and - the image changed suddenly and she was unexpectedly seeing one hell of a messy bedroom. It looked like someone had heaped clothes in the middle of the floor and tossed a firework in with them, blowing them around the room. There were clothes draped over an easel, and…
Paige's eyes snapped open and she sighed, unfolding her legs. That vision was her room. And Phoebe most definitely was not here. So much for her supposedly growing whitelighter half. She pulled a face and leaned over the edge of the bed.
If now wasn't time for the goodies tin, then when was? Since she was about nine Paige had kept a metal biscuit box under her bed, full of mainly dark chocolate. She knew that there were Twizzlers in there too, though. Paige didn't feel selfish. After all, Piper hated dark chocolate and Phoebe had been avoiding anything with more than two calories for months now. Why, Paige didn't know. Phoebe looked just great as she was. But there you go. Maybe it was pressures of the job. Paige wouldn't want to be plastered all over billboards with a huge ass. And besides, she had been an only child for so long before now; some little habits were bound to stick with her. She needed something separate from her sisters.
After all, she needed to keep her sugar levels up. And why was she still justifying her goodies tin instead of reaching for it? She'd just been on the way to get a bagel this morning when she got distracted by one of the magazines on the coffee table in the parlour all about Colin Farrell. It was that Irish accent that really did it for her… But anyway, what the point really was, was that she hadn't actually had any breakfast this morning.
She wondered what had happened to the magazine. Maybe she could bring it up to her room later…
As she reached under the bed for the familiar rectangle box her hand tingled, and with a small shriek she disappeared.
Don't Look Under the Bed
Please bear in mind that I write in the early hours of the morning – so it does take many read-overs to catch all of the mistakes, and then sometimes I make more mistakes correcting the mistakes. So yeah. Little errors, whilst I should look out for them, as pesky things that I swear keep switching places when it comes to four AM. Heh, go figure.
Claddagh Ring: - Heh, thanks. I'm glad you like. Did you wish upon a star? You wanted me, and you got me! Heh. Ignore me, I'm a loser.
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Goldstranger: - You found it? Without a map? Applause Heh. I could write for the show. I could make Alyssa eat something… Heh. That was mean. Thanks for reviewing.
Missing Whisper: - Heh, I bet this chapter didn't feel like a real episode, did it? Lol. I got a tad carried away. When it gets near time to wake up and I'm still writing, I just tend to write what I think, and yesterday morning I was in Piper-mode. Thanks for reviewing.
Ghost: - Thanks. Here it is. Or… there is was. Meh.
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