Disclaimer: One of these days, Brad Kern...you'd better watch it...lol. Eh. Chris was the best thing that ever happened to Charmed, in my opinion, and that loser took him away. Drew...so...hot...Lol. I swore to myself that I'd never go goo-goo in love with an actor after I saw what Orlando Bloom did to all the poor swooning women in America, but one look at Drew's face...omg...(shutting up now). DREW IS HOT HOT HOT HOT HOT!

Okay. Er. I don't own Charmed, I guess, but I have dreams. LOTS OF 'EM.

Chapter Five

"Daffodil root? Hey, Wyatt, do we have any daffodil root?"

Wyatt scrunched his nose. "What in the world are you concocting over there? It smells like dead rat."

"You've been near dead rats lately?"

"You know what I mean." Wyatt rolled his eyes. "I hope we can get that smell out of the air by the time the adults get home."

"Don't worry, I'm on it. Break n' Bake cookies in the oven. Thank God for Pilsbury," Chris muttered. "Seriously. I need daffodil root. This is some kind of sleep-inducing potion—good to use on one of the Evil Relatives," Chris said, using the new name they'd dubbed the unknown people of the mystery world.

"Here's your dead plant, your highness. Do it quick, will you? I need the stove."

"What's yours doing?"

"Huh?"

"Your potion. Which one are you making?"

"Campbell's soup."

"You're kidding, right?"

Wyatt sighed, putting the can back. "Fine. I'll make the paralyzing one. It's gotta be refrigerated for a couple of hours, anyway."

"Good. Get to work on that, then."

"Cookies!" Paisley squealed, rushing into the room. "Can I have a cookie, Chris? Please please please please?" she begged.

"They're not ready yet, okay? Come back in, like, five minutes. They'll have to cool down for a while, too."

"Okey-dokey. What are you doing?"

"Helping Mom make potions," Wyatt lied smoothly. "It's pretty gross. Look at Chris'—isn't it awesome?"

"Ewww!" Paisley shrieked, running into the living room. "I'll be watching Dora if you need me," she huffed, thoroughly disgusted with the pair of them.

Chris froze. "Wyatt. I can't lie," he realized, his eyes growing wide.

"What do you mean?" asked Wyatt, focusing on squeezing some sort of blue pus out of a storage container.

"I. Can't. Lie," Chris repeated. "I'm a terrible liar. And we're going to have to disguise ourselves. Oh, crap. This sucks. What are we going to do?"

"Simple. You just stay quiet and nod your head whenever I tell you to do something."

"Sure," Chris said doubtfully.

By early evening they had a good two dozen potions at their ready. Quickly they cleaned up the mess and scoured the kitchen for any remaining evidence of their activities. Just as the last sweep of the room was finished, Piper walked in the door.

"Aunty Piperrrrrr!" Paisley exclaimed, jumping up and down at her arrival.

Piper groaned. "Who fed her sugar?"

"Chris made cookieeeeesssss!" she squealed.

Wyatt grimaced. Chris sighed.

"He did what?" Piper exclaimed. "Christopher Perry Halliwell, come here right now."

Chris walked calmly over to her. "Yes?"

"What did I tell you about sweets while I was away?"

"You told me not to eat them. You didn't say anything about Paisley not eating them. You're not her mother."

Piper glared, her eyes becoming mere slits. In this moment Chris knew for sure and wondered how he could have been so blind in his grief for Abby. This wasn't Piper. It never had been Piper. Not their Piper, at least. She really, truly hated good.

"Are you sassing me?" Piper hissed.

"No, m'am."

"Don't you 'm'am' me like an old lady!" Piper yelled. "I've had enough of you! You shouldn't—the way you're sneaking around all the time, making my sisters mad at me. You're such a nuisance. Such a little menace. What did I do to deserve you? Why can't you be more like Wyatt?"

"Yeah, Chris, why can't you be more like me?" Wyatt asked snidely. His eyes pleaded otherwise, though, and Chris understood. But he didn't like what was coming.

"Because I'm an awful, terrible person," Chris said, shrugging his shoulders and smiling slightly.

Piper stamped her foot and jabbed her finger towards the door. "Just go."

"Okay. I'll just get my backpack and—"

"No…just…go." Piper demanded through clenched teeth.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," Chris mocked her. He shut the door behind him even though he desperately wanted to see her reaction. He didn't fear the consequences now that he knew the truth. And man, it felt good to be bold and unafraid for once.

Wyatt wanted to scream. How were they going to follow through with the plan NOW?

He'd better get back here by dark, he thought to himself angrily. Chris probably just provoked her to get kicked out and ruin the plan. Chris and all of his little safety precautions. He was such a freaking worry wart.

But Wyatt knew in his heart that Chris would have been kicked out either way. That was just the way it went.

Ding-dong!

"It's practically dinnertime," Piper snapped. "Who the hell comes over at dinnertime? I have half a mind to…those stupid salesmen…never left alone…" she muttered, answering the door with a rude expression glued to her face.

A pleasant woman only a bit older than Piper wearing a casual suit stood at the doorstep.

"Yes?" Piper prompted her impatiently.

The woman appeared a bit thrown off at her welcoming, but cleared her throat and composed herself.

"Sorry," Wyatt mouthed to her from behind the door. He thought he saw her wink.

"Hello. Mrs. Halliwell, is it?" the woman asked, extending her hand.

Piper ignored it and didn't shake. "Ms. Halliwell," Piper corrected. "What do you want?"

"Um…my name is Diana Parkins—"

"That's very nice, and maybe we'll donate to the pimple-faced kids in the school band another day, but right now I—"

"Let me speak," the woman commanded with a strong but still gentle voice. "I'll get down to the bottom of this as fast as I can. Basically, Ms. Halliwell, we detect a very high concentration of magical power from your home."

Piper's eyes narrowed. "Get off my property or I'll call the police."

The threat didn't phase the woman. "You're in no position to be threatening me, Ms. Halliwell. I can turn anything you say against you. Besides, I'm on your side."

Piper snorted.

"I come from a secret group called the Alliance—we combat the Witch Hunters to the best we can given the circumstances."

"And you're doing a hell of a job at it," Piper cackled bitterly.

The woman continued as if she hadn't heard. "We're here to offer you protection."

"Take your protection and stick it up your—"

"You do realize the dangers of this time?"

"You just want my money, bitch. I know you. I've seen you a million times, or at least people just like you."

The woman sighed. "If you feel that way…"

"I do. Good evening, then." Piper slammed the door in her face. "The nerve of some people," she ranted angrily. "I can't believe it. It's nuts."

Sean was trying to take a five-minute nap at his cubicle when his cell phone rang.

"Yeah?" he answered groggily.

"Sean, it's me, Diana," said his co-worker on the other end.

Sean bolted up in his seat. "Diana, hi," he greeted her, suddenly alert. "The power source—did you get anything on it? How'd it go?"

"I have no idea yet. Could you put Travis on the line?"

"Sure. He just released his class from training." Sean held his hand to the speaker and yelled across the room, "Yo, Travis, it's Diana—she wants to talk to you."

Travis jogged over, taking the cell. "Thanks, Sean." He held the phone up to his ear. "Yeah? Any word?"

"Well, actually, I'm not sure if I got the right place. I thought I detected the power source in a manor home about ten miles from base, but…well, they seemed a little hostile. I just wanted to make sure that I had the right house before I dug in further. Could you look it up on the database for me?"

"Sure. Give me the codes for the specific map and program you used." Travis pointed to Sean's computer in question and Sean nodded, getting up from the cubicle. Instant coffee break.

Diana rattled off the codes for the specifics. "The power sources are in red."

"There are several throughout San Francisco," noted Travis, surprised. "Why haven't we tried to recruit all of them?"

"We have. They all refused. We've hit everyone in the area—everyone except, it seems, this house."

"I don't see a house lit up in red."

"Really? Look around the map. It was startlingly red, whoever—whatever—it was."

Travis scrolled around with the keys. "I've locked on it. It's on the move. About five miles south of us, heading this way."

"Okay. Let's not panic. Up the security, will you? Just don't make a big deal out of it. I don't want people freaking out."

"I'll go after it."

"Don't, it's too risky."

"Diana."

She sighed into the receiver. "…alright. If you must."

"Right. Now you just stay put, I don't think we should let anyone in or out for now. I'll up the security like you said, but I'm going to lock the doors."

"Gee, I'm sure everyone will think everything's just dandy when you do that."

"It's not like anybody knows we're here. Besides, we can unlock the doors in less than five seconds if need be; and no one has anywhere to go."

"Okay…just be careful, alright? We need you."

Travis grinned, watching the red speck as it slowly traveled north. "Thanks, Diana, but I'll be fine. Bye."

He hung up the phone and grabbed his coat. "You can have your cubicle back, Sean. First do me a favor. Put the security on red alert and lock the doors after I leave."

Sean's eyes widened. "It's that serious?"

"Nah. Just can't be too careful."

"I'm on it, then."

So? Sooooo? Lol. Thanks for all the reviews, guys. They're very inspiring. Lol. I especially love anyone who shares my mutual likeness of Drew. Drew Fuller lovers, one and all, review and make yourselves known! The lucky peoples touched by his amazing hotnessness must UNITE!

-A slightly eccentric Pink Charmed One-