A/N: Small disclaimer for this chapter - I'm not Irish so I apologise right now if I offend anyone with my phonetic attempt. Also, thanks for letting me know that there are still some people interested in this revision…

Thanks go to:

Chattypandagurl: Welcome to my world – although I suspect my many issues with the site are more to do with my incredible ineptness with all things even remotely computer oriented. (Looks fondly at the typewriter and 8 track player sitting in the corner…)

Zeria: Thanks for the cheer! I needed that. And I heartily agree with your other observations…although regarding Zankou, I will say this – I stopped watching half way through season 7 so I never did find out what happened to him (I assume they vanquished him, like they do with most demons). I'm just too damned lazy to invent new characters for demons (actually any character at all, hence Les, DJ, Michael, etc.)

Icantthinkofafnick: Right back at you! I'm always impressed how quickly you update your own stories and yet still find time to read other people's fanfic! Myself, I can never seem to do more than one at a time. Also, thanks for the encouraging words!

Charmed Ravenclaw: Yep, brain decided it wanted to spew this out instead. Glad you're finding it intriguing. You'll let me know if it gets boring, right?

Mjp3: Not to worry, Chris will definitely be getting more screen time. (He is my favourite character, even if it doesn't always seem so.) Thanks for the review. It's good to hear people are thinking this revision is more in character – it makes the many hours spent at the keyboard worth it.

Starry Sky 44: I think from the reviews people like yourself have been nice enough to leave clearly indicate they feel Chris is much more in character this time round. I hope to continue writing him that way and make up for my stumbling in Redundant. Thanks for letting me know – it gives me the energy to continue.

Also: thanks to those who left me reviews in my other stories…it is appreciated.


The End of All Things
Chapter 2

The Bay area…in the future

The skies were blue, the sun was shining and a gentle breeze ruffled his hair. In short, a beautiful day…something Chris, and the rest of the human population, hadn't had a chance to experience for a long time.

Too bad it was being ruined.

"…and another thing, I think you should all carry identification, or something," the woman finished abruptly.

Breathing in the sweet air, Chris tried to concentrate on the task at hand. He'd been having a hard time lately staying focused. Shaking his head slowly as if in a daze, "I'm sorry?"

Throwing up her hands in desperation, the older woman, approximately in her fifties, was clearly agitated. Her red hair was liberally streaked with grey, and the crow's feet around her eyes distracted from the rather keen eyes that were currently narrowed on him. "Chris – pay attention!"

Stifling the urge to sigh and feeling very much like a kid who'd been caught daydreaming in class, Chris nodded, rubbing the back of his neck wearily, "Sorry. Come again?"

"I said," the woman huffed, "I think all magical beings should carry identification cards. So we can make sure …"

"Look, Jenny," Chris addressed the former inspector a little shortly, "I don't see the point of having these cards. I mean, what's the purpose of them?"

"To keep track of you guys!" Jenny Sheridan pointed out. "Chris – you said it yourself. The world has changed. We can't go back to before; where we all pretended you didn't exist. You do exist. And everyone knows that now. So the most important thing is that we all learn to…deal with it."

"Deal with it?" Chris was genuinely confused. What was there to deal with?

Jenny sighed, "Look, kid. I've known you for a long time. I've known your family longer than I care to admit. People…they want to feel safe again. I think it would go a long way if you guys carried some sort of…identification. That would identify you as magical beings that humans can trust. That's all."

Chris shook his head, "I don't know. It just sounds…I don't know. I should really talk to the others about it."

About to open her mouth to argue further, Jenny broke off as she suddenly pointed at Chris' face, "Chris!"

Touching his hand to his nose, he could feel the blooding dripping freely down from his nostrils. Swiftly, he turned away from the group, groping his pockets for the handkerchief he knew was there. Pressing the cloth to his nose and squeezing tight, he glanced back at Jenny, apologizing, "Sorry."

"Are you…are you okay?" Jenny asked hesitantly, alarmed at the amount of blood his nosebleed had generated. It didn't seem…right.

"Fine," Chris said briskly, still holding the blood soaked material to his nose. "It's the dry weather, you know? Anyways, I should get going…"

"One last thing, Chris…" Looking over her shoulder at the group behind her who were acting as temporary city council leaders, Jenny hesitated briefly before plunging forward. "We want you to cast the no-orbing spell again."

Chris blinked stupidly, "Excuse me?"

"Just over our city," Jenny hastened to assure him. "It's just…we'd feel safer if…we couldn't be taken by surprise."

"By demons or by the Resistance?" Chris bit out, waving away Jenny's attempt to explain further. "Forget it. I don't want to hear it. As long as you're fully aware of the consequences. If demons attack, it could make a difference…"

She shrugged. "I think I speak for all of us when I say it's a chance we're willing to take. I think everyone would sleep better at night knowing there was no way demons could orb in and kill us all in our sleep."

"Shimmer," Chris said curtly. At Jenny's questioning look, he replied tightly, "Demons shimmer. Whitelighters orb. Remember, whitelighters? The good guys?"

Looking slightly embarrassed, Jenny nodded almost too quickly, "Of course."

Not knowing what else to do, Chris sighed, making a snapdecision, "All right. I'll get Ben to drop by and cast your spell. I'll have to get back to you on the identity card thing though. I think there are a couple of people I need to talk it over with first…"

Again, Jenny nodded, "I think that'd be best. Go talk to whoever you need to. And let us know."

Disturbed, but not really knowing why, Chris nodded uneasily, "Are we done here?"

Jenny nodded her head in assent, "Yeah. Give my regards to Darryl."

Nodding his goodbye at Jenny and the others, Chris slowly backed away before materializing out. Just what the heck is going on?


Magic School…present time

"Hey, Paige. Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Paige rubbed her tired eyes, raising her gaze from the book in front of her. "Ben! How are you? Sure, come on in." Waving her hands at the chair in front of her desk, "Have a seat."

Ben walked into the study, and pulling out the indicated chair, he sat himself across from Paige. She had found this room on one of her recent explorations of Magic School; she figured if she was going to be the headmistress, then she had better find out what exactly was Magic School. She was currently in one of the many rooms in Magic School that housed the library archives; this particular study stored the ones on time travel, travel to other dimensions and other 'travelling' chronicle type books. She had spent the better part of the morning reading through the many tomes. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the perspective, since her eyes were beginning to glaze over), as Chris had once mentioned, there was little documented information on that magical phenomenon.

"What are you doing?" he asked, nodding his head at the open book in front of her.

Paige blinked. She knew she was sort of staring at Ben, but frankly, it was the first time she had seen him since her little trip to the future. It was hard to reconcile the image of the older Ben in the future, a virtual 'professor' of magic, with the younger man seated in front of her.

"Ah, Paige?" Ben waved his hand in front of Paige's face. "You okay?"

"What! Oh yeah, sure," Paige grinned, weakly, gathering her thoughts. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Ben pointed at the book on the desk, "I was just asking you what you were reading."

Looking down at the book like she had never seen it before, Paige checked the front cover, "Ah – something on time travel."

"That interesting, huh?" Ben grinned, good-humouredly.

Paige chuckled. "You took the words right out of my mouth. Anyways, you didn't come in here to ask me about my day. What can I help you with?"

Ben's face immediately became serious. "I just finished speaking with Mrs. Winterbourne and she told me that I'm going to need to start working on my thesis soon, if I want to get my Ph.D started."

"Ph.D? Magic School has that?" Paige asked, scratching her head in wonder. "What kind of job can you get with a Ph.D in magic, anyways?"

Ben grinned. "I'm not doing it for a 'job', Paige. I like researching and finding new ways for using magic."

Thinking about the future where she had just returned from, Paige nodded hastily, "That's great! I think you should go for it! Definitely."

"Ah, thanks," Ben replied, a little puzzled by Paige's overwhelming enthusiasm. "Anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you was I was wondering if you had any ideas about a topic for my thesis. I really don't want to do the typical stuff – you know, a new vanquishing potion, or a 'study of the history of the Charmed Ones.'"

Paige made a bit of a face, "Please – definitely no study on the Charmed Ones. How about cataloguing all demons and other evil entities?"

Ben shook his head. "Nah – I want something really exciting, different. That's so been done."

Fingering the book in her hand, Paige looked down for a minute, "Uhh, what about time travel?"

Ben brightened. "That's a great idea! I don't think anyone's ever done anything on time travel before." His face fell, just a bit. "I'm not sure I'd be able to cover such an enormous topic though. I think I need to tackle something a little smaller first."

About to make another suggestion, Paige paused, hearing in the back of her mind, Paige!

Noticing the expression on Paige's face, Ben prompted, "Something the matter?"

She shook her head, "Just my sister. I think she wants me to come home."

"Well, I won't hold you up then," Ben smiled, rising from his seat. "Thanks again for the advice, Paige."

Paige!

As Piper's voice rang in her ears again, Paige bit back a sigh. Rolling her eyes heavenward, she responded, exasperated, even though she knew Piper couldn't hear her, "All right, already. Geez!" Turning her attention back to Ben's amused face, she narrowed her eyes at him, "Oh, wipe that smirk off your face."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Ben shook his head and waved goodbye. "I'll catch you later, okay?"

Paige!

"Okay," Paige sighed, as once again, Piper's voice nagging incessantly in her head. As Ben left the office, Paige threw her hands up in the air. It was obvious she wasn't going to get any of the paperwork she so desperately needed to be completed done today. Ready to commit sororicide, Paige clapped both hands over her ears and orbed out as Piper gave one last command...

Oh, and don't forget to get Phoebe too!
In the future…

"Ah, young Christopher…how ye be?"

The question, along with a puff of smoke from the leprechaun's pipe was the first thing that greeted Chris as his blues orbs quickly formed in front of his host. Rolling his eyes at the leprechaun, Chris' lips quirked into a quick smirk, "That has got to be the worst Irish brogue I've ever heard."

"What are ye talkin' bout?" the red haired Riley mock glared at his young friend. "I'd like to see ye do better."

"Please no!" Chris held up his hands in a flurry of protest. "No need to humiliate myself this late in the day, please?"

Dropping the thick Irish brogue to take on a more mild accent, Riley grinned a gap-toothed smile, "Seriously, Christopher. How are you?"

"I'm good," Chris waved his hand at their surroundings. "Nice place." He coughed into his hand, "If a little bit smoky."

The 'place' Chris was referring to was, by all accounts, an old fashioned tavern. Dark wood panelling and dim lighting completed the cozy atmosphere. Squinting, Chris could make out the numerous leprechauns, fairies, ogres and a bunch of other magical beings lounging around on various bar stools and benches. In the background, distinctly Irish music filtered between the low voices from the tavern's patrons. Impressed, Chris raised his eyebrow in question, "I was wondering why you wanted to change the location of our regular meetings."

Riley smiled proudly, his chest puffing out, "One of the first places we set about making right. We just finished the work a couple of weeks ago. Good thing there wasn't too much damage. Fixed it up nicely, didn't we?"

Feeling a little disoriented, Chris tried to nod appreciatively, "I like the, uh, wood panelling. Reminds me of those gentlemen's clubs in those old movies."

Riley winked, "The wood nymphs were nice enough to donate a wee part of their forest home for our little piece of heaven in exchange for some drinks on the house. But it's worth it, eh?"

Thinking of the hungry and mostly homeless people he had just left, Chris swallowed his urge to pontificate, choosing to say neutrally instead, "I've got a lot of things I've still got to do, Riley. Maybe we should get down to business."

"Of course, laddie," Riley clapped Chris on the shoulder comradely. "Let me get you a drink. On the house, of course."

Steering the young man to a small table in the corner at the back of the room, Riley waved for Chris to take a seat. As Chris seated himself, Riley yelled over his shoulder, "Meghan! Bring us some ale to warm ourselves, will you?"

Wincing at the stout man's rather booming voice, Chris cleared his throat, "Just water for me, please." At Riley's disbelieving look, Chris said defensively, "I'm still on duty, Riley."

Riley snorted, "Laddie, you're ALWAYS on duty. I don't think I've ever seen you not on duty." He looked up as a short, middle-aged woman plunked down two mugs,the liquid it contained sloshing over the rims, creating a pool of beer on the table. "That's premium stuff there, woman! Watch what you're doing!"

Glaring at Riley, with her arms akimbo, the woman named Meghan growled, "Who are you calling woman? You watch your mouth! I don't take orders from you Riley O'Brien!"

Chris watched in amusement as the woman marched away and Riley turned back to his friend, shrugging sheepishly, "Women!" Raising his mug to Chris, "Cheers, laddie!"

Sighing, Chris knew Riley wouldn't get down to business unless he partook in the alcohol imbibing tradition. Raising his mug as well, Chris took a quick swallow of the warm ale, trying not to grimace, "Cheers." It was one North American habit he couldn't break – beer should always be served cold in his opinion.

"Not to your liking?" Riley inquired, his bushy eyebrows wagging at Chris in humour. The leprechaun was fully aware of his friend's heathen lager practices.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Chris ignored the taunt for what it was. An attempt to poke humour at Chris' decidedly 'un-civilized' tastes…at least, according to the little Irishman. "Don't make me forget we're friends…"

The leprechaun let out a belt of gruff laughter, "Drink up, Chris, me friend. You're going to need it."

Rather than encouraging him to take another swallow of the warmish ale, Chris' eyes darkened in concern, "Why? Are you just joking or is something really up?"

The leprechaun took another long draught before, "We leprechauns – we like our fun."

Chris rolled his eyes, "Believe me, I know. I've had to carry you home more than once, Riley. Let me tell you, when you're inebriated you've got the worst singing voice I've ever had the misfortune to hear."

Riley grinned, "That's why I've always liked ye, my friend. You're responsible."

"Is there a point to this ego stroking?" Chris raised his eyebrow sardonically.

Sobering, Riley put down his pint and stared at Chris directly in the eyes, "I'm worried."

"Worried?" Chris shook his head. "About what?"

"The other day, some of my people ran into the local human population. You know we try to keep away from the folks, but these ones were apparently looking for us. Heard we might be able to help them. Well, of course my folks told them they weren't responsible for helping them. Next thing they know, a big fight broke out. It was only because I happened to be nearby that I managed to interrupt the troublemakers before someone got hurt." Riley sighed, taking another puff of his pipe. "I don't like it, Chris. Those humans – they had a mean look about them."

Chris frowned at Riley, "These humans came looking for you?"

Riley nodded, "They had heard from someone, they say, about our little home here. They came storming into the place, accusing us of hogging all the construction material and food supplies to build this place."

Chris raised his eyebrow.

Riley's face darkened, his accent thickening as his emotions rose, "We didna use the supplies you allocated to us at all! We gave those back so you could redeploy them amongst the humans! Ask ye friend Les for it was he we dealt with. We bartered and bargained with the fairy and nymph folks for our wood and we traded with the humans for some other stuff. We brewed our own beer, bloody freaking hell!"

Rubbing his face wearily, Chris sighed. "Well, I can see how they could interpret…hell, Riley. The pub does seem sort of excessive, don't you think?" Chris decided to lay his cards on the table.

Riley's eyes bugged out, "How we live is no one's business but our own! We lost many fine leprechauns, fairies, nymphs and ogres in this war with Wyatt too! What right do these mortals have to judge us? They are not the only ones who shed blood! If we want to build someplace for us to gather, to remember those who are gone, what does it matter if it's a pub or if it's a bloody grave! It's our tradition!"

"And I'm not saying that you shouldn't remember them in your way," Chris tried to reason with the other man calmly. "But look at it from their point of view. You have the 'haves' and the 'have-nots'. And right now, the humans are distinctly in the 'have-nots' category. Then they see your pub…"

"And what's that suppose to mean?" Riley erupted, clearly outraged.

"Nothing. I just think…I think…a little discretion on your part could avoid all this tension you're feeling. That's all," Chris replied, tiredly.

"Discretion!" Riley bellowed.

"Look," Chris tried to placate the leprechaun who was clearly on the verge of losing his temper, "of course you have the right to –," Abruptly, Chris broke off his pleading to start coughing and hacking. "The…right…," Unable to control himself, the coughs continued to build, interrupting any semblance of Chris' attempt to speak.

"Chris, me lad, are you okay?" As concern for his friend overwhelmed Riley, all thoughts of their argument fled his mind.

"I jussssstt…need…to getttt…sssssome air," Chris wheezed, getting up from his chair to stumble towards the door. Pushing the heavy door open, the fresh air hit Chris like a mack truck, and staggering, he braced himself against the doorframe. Slouching against the side of the entrance, he took deep breaths of the clean, crisp air, slowly gaining control of his breathing.

Following in his wake, Riley asked anxiously, "Are you okay, lad? Do you need me to call for a whitelighter?"

Chris shook his head, dismissing the need for assistance. His voice slightly hoarse from the coughing fit, "Smoking, Riley. I've told you more than once it's not good for your health."

Riley shrugged nonchalantly, "I think I'll take my chances. Luck of the Irish, you know." Riley eyed Chris doubtfully, "You sure you're okay?"

Chris nodded, his eyes closed. "Do you mind if we don't go back in there?"

"Of course not, lad. Besides, I think I've said all I'm going to."

His eyes popping open, Chris threw a questioning look at Riley, "You'll think about what I said?"

Riley sighed, "I always think about what you say, Christopher."

Chris acknowledged the truth in that statement, "I know you do, Riley. Look, if things still seem…tense…in the next couple of weeks, promise me you'll talk to me before you do anything. Okay?"

Riley looked at the young man who he held in such high esteem. Humans, in his experience, were greedy creatures. Besides the risk of exposing magic, most magical folks tended to avoid mortals because of their nature. When the war with Wyatt had broken out, many of his folk had been against joining the Resistance because of this opinion. Riley had persuaded his folk to join with the Resistance because of his belief in the integrity of this human. And though Chris likely owed him more than he owed Chris, Riley was still inclined to grant the request. Chris was asking for very little and Riley knew it. It would cost him little and gain him much, "Very well, lad. You have my word."

Knowing Riley's word was as good as gold, Chris breathed a sigh of relief. Clapping his hand against the leprechaun's shoulder, Chris straightened, "I've got to go. But keep in touch, okay?"

"Okay, lad. Luck of the Irish to you."

Chris grinned, "And you."

And he orbed out, leaving Riley to stand staring thoughtfully at the spot the whitelighter had just been.


In the present…

"Phoebe! There you are!" Elise stuck her head into Phoebe's office.

"Yes, here I am. In my office," Phoebe laughed, weakly. Phoebe thought to herself, Really, where else would I be?

"Glad you're back, by the way. You settling in, okay?" Elise asked, as she walked into Phoebe's office.

"Good. Everything's good," Phoebe pointed at her overflowing in-tray. "I really missed this, you know?"

"Well, I'm just glad you're back. We were so lucky that you decided you were ready just when Les suddenly had to leave," Elise smiled, as she sat down into the chair across from Phoebe. "It's too bad I didn't have a chance to say goodbye to him. You made sure he got his payroll stuff sorted out and everything, right?"

"Yeah. And about leaving so suddenly, he really wanted me to tell you he was sorry about that. Family stuff, you know? He really hated leaving without saying goodbye, but he really had to…uh…catch his flight," Phoebe improvised, not wanting Les to leave a bad impression on Elise. Although, when she thought about it, it wasn't like it really mattered, because in all likelihood, Elise would never meet Les again.

"Well, thank goodness he had presence of mind to let you know. I can't imagine what I would have done if neither of you had been around. 'Ask Phoebe' might not have made it to print!" Elise exclaimed. Waving her hand to indicate a change in subject, Elise leaned forward in her chair, "So what do you think of the 'win a date with Phoebe' contest?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "I'm kind of taking a break on dating. Besides, you never know who's going to win the contest."

"It's not a real date, Phoebe. It's just some good PR. It could bring in even more readers than we have now. Give them a chance to meet the real you," Elise lectured, looking at her watch. "I've got to go to a meeting. Think about it, okay?"

"All right. I'll think about it. But no promises!" Phoebe yelled at Elise's back as she exited Phoebe's office. Sighing, Phoebe reached into her inbox to read another letter, settling down to do some serious work.

The tinkling of orbs was the only warning sign she got. Dashing across the office, Phoebe leapt for the blinds, yanking on them and turning around just in time to see her baby sister materializing in front of her.

"Paige!" Phoebe yelped.

Rolling her eyes, Paige replied dismissively, "Not you too. One demanding sister is enough, don't you think?"

Ignoring Paige's comments, Phoebe continued her lecture, "Anyone could have seen you! You can't just orb into my office!"

About to retort, Paige groaned again, pressing her hand against her forehead, "And I wouldn't have to if Piper could learn to use the phone, every once and awhile!"

"Piper? Piper sent you to get me? Is everything okay? Is something wrong with the boys? Did a demon attack? Did –,"

"If you'd let me finish – I don't know what's going on. Piper just said to come back to the Manor and to get you on the way," Paige cut off Phoebe's babbling. "So here I am."

"That's not like Piper at all," Phoebe mused.

"Let's just go, please?" Paige pleaded. "Piper's been screaming in my head for fifteen minutes now, and I think my brain's about to explode."

Nodding her agreement, Phoebe locked her office door and grabbed her purse. "Okay, let's go."

Taking Phoebe's hand in hers, Paige rubbed her temple once again before orbing them both away.


The Manor…present time

"You really think this is what you guys want to do?" Paige asked again, for the umpteenth time.

Paige had orbed herself and Phoebe directly from Phoebe's office to the attic, guessing that Piper would be waiting for them there. She hadn't been mistaken. As soon as the two sisters had orbed in, Piper had leapt up from the couch where she had been tapping her foot rather impatiently. Explaining the situation to them, Piper had presented her arguments on why the sisters needed to travel to the future.

"Yes, Paige. Leo and I have thought about this a lot. We need to make sure Chris and Wyatt are okay. That they're doing good," Piper argued with her sister, trying to make Paige see her side. "Don't you want to know that your nephews are okay?"

"Of course I do, Piper!" Paige bit back, a little indignant. "But magic for personal gain always has consequences. You know that!"

Dusting the chalk from his hands, Leo stepped back to admire the triquetra he'd just finished drawing. Turning to join the discussion, Leo watched the three sisters argue, wisely refraining from adding his two cents. Better to sit back and let the sisters sort it out amongst themselves.

"What do you think?" Piper directed her question at Phoebe.

Phoebe shrugged. "Seems like a good idea to me."

"This coming from the sister who had her powers taken away from her because of personal gain!" Paige pointed out emphatically.

Phoebe shrugged again, "She does have a point."

"Thank you!" Paige nodded triumphantly.

"But…I think this is really Piper and Leo's decision. And that we should support them in whatever they decide," Phoebe reasoned. "After all, this is Chris and Wyatt we're talking about."

Seeing the pleading look in Piper's eyes, Paige relented. "All right, all right. If you're sure this is the only way…"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think so," Piper responded softly, her eyes filled with thanks as she looked at both her sisters. "You don't know how much this means to me…to us both…" Looking at Leo for confirmation, he nodded, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Piper's waist.

"Well, that's what sisters are for," Phoebe smiled warmly at Paige, who heaved a sigh in response. "So let's do this!"

"Let's," Piper grinned back, glancing up at Leo who grinned as well. "I've got the spell right here."

"You sure that's going to work?" Paige asked, a little doubtful as she took a quick scan.

"Hey! If you think you can do better, go right ahead," Piper retorted, a little heatedly.

"There are no guarantees with time travel, Paige," Leo took on a lecturing tone. "You know that."

Paige rolled her eyes, "Who's the headmistress of Magic School for Pete's sakes? Just give me that…" Reaching out to snatch the paper out of Piper's hands, she missed as Piper yanked the piece of paper out of her sister's reach. Grumbling, Paige shuffled closer to her sister so she could read the words.

Bracketing Piper from the other side, Phoebe stepped forward as well, her eyes running silently over the spell. "Looks good to me. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Phoebe!" Paige rounded on her sister in horror. "I can't believe you just said that! Now you've jinxed us for sure!"

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "Oh come on, Paige. You honestly don't believe in that kind of stuff, do you?"

"No, but why tempt fate?" Paige shot back.

"Enough!" Piper said sharply. "Hello? Can we please stay focused for a couple of minutes? I'd like to be back home in time to tuck the kids in later, thank you."

"Sorry," Paige mumbled, sheepishly.

"Sorry," Phoebe said brightly, her face innocent.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes childishly, Piper once again brandished the paper in front of the three sisters. Opening their mouths, the three sisters began to read the spell.

The triquetra flared.


In the future…

He slammed the door behind him in frustration. Tossing his notepad onto the nearby table, he grimaced as the pen came loose and rolled across the table's surface and dropped onto the floor. Staring at the offending writing utensil, he debated whether the expended effort to retrieve the bloody thing would be worth it.

It wasn't.

It had been a long day. Up at the crack of dawn, his day had started with meetings upon meetings. Kate, Jenny, Riley…not to mention Darryl and Odin once he had gotten back to base. Office politics, it seemed, had yet to become extinct in the future.

Cursing, Chris pulled at the collar of his shirt, feeling suffocated. As he yanked at the buttons impatiently, he pulled a little too hard and the top button popped off, flying across the room.

"Son of a bitch," Chris signed, resignedly.

Bending over, he brushed his fingertips along the floor, his fingers finding the pen. Tossing it up, he heard the pen land on the table. Still crouched over, he spotted his little plastic button. It had landed against the far leg of the table. Stretching, Chris managed to place his middle finger on it and slid the button towards himself. Within reach, he snatched it up triumphantly and made the mistake of righting himself immediately.

THUD!

"Shit!" Chris hissed, rubbing his head tenderly. Giving the table an evil look, he backed away from it slowly, as if the table were alive instead of the inanimate object he knew it was. Still glaring accusingly at the piece of furniture, he gently placed the button down with his other hand onthe desk behind him.

Walking over to his bookshelf, he paused, wincing as his hand touched a particular sensitive spot on his head. He must have banged his head right on the corner for it to still sting so. He pulled his hand away to take a look, expecting to find blood on his hand.

Instead, he saw something worse.

For a long time, Chris stared at his hand. This can't be happening, he thought. This can't be happening.

Clenching his fist tight, he stormed into the bathroom. Brushing his hands over the trash bin, he then opened the water taps and plunged his hands under the streaming water. He rubbed them vigorously, not daring to look into the mirror positioned above the sink. When the last of the hand soap was washed away, he flicked off the taps and briskly dried them with a nearby towel.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them again, he finally gathered enough courage to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He turned his head this way and that, trying to get a better angle.

Leaning against the sink, he felt his stomach turn. Forcing back the panic threatening to overwhelm him, he reached for his comb. His hands slightly unsteady, he began to carefully comb his hair over the small, bald spot.

Glancing back at the mirror, he felt his stomach unclench.

Good, he thought. You can hardly tell.

To be continued…