A/N: Anyone miss me?
Thanks go to: Starry Sky 44, Charmed Ravenclaw, chattypandagurl, Twisted Flame, mjp3, and IcantthinkofaFnick. You guys are the reason why I continue to write…
The End of All Things
Chapter 4
The Bay area…in the futureGlancing at his watch, he looked again at closed gates in front of him. One minute more, Les thought. If she doesn't show up in sixty seconds…
I wonder what would happen if I closed my eyes for just a moment, Les thought wearily. The third week on his new 'job' as second in command and already he was exhausted. To his great surprise, Chris had decided to 'step back' from his position as leader of the Resistance, delegating most of the day to day responsibilities to Darryl. Les had known Chris was ill, but still…
Like Les had assumed Darryl's responsibilities, Darryl, in turn, had undertaken Chris' responsibilities, although very reluctantly. They were in transition; and with it, came numerous obstacles – the first being trust issues. One of Chris' strengths as leader of the Resistance had been his contacts with various magical beings far and wide. It had been one of the reasons the Resistance had come together so well; magical beings, in general, were naturally mistrustful of humans. Chris, with his heritage as the son of the Charmed Ones, along with his own natural integrity, was one of the few humans the magical beings respected. Most of the time, they merely tolerated the existence of mortals, avoiding them at all costs. It had been Chris who had cajoled and coaxed even the most reluctant of the magical community from their neutrality to join their efforts against Wyatt.
And now that Chris was visibly stepping back from his role in the Resistance, the rumour mill was running overtime and suspicion was rampant.
It was a no win situation. Just yesterday, Riley, who spoke for the leprechaun and fairy community, had already expressed displeasure that his regularly scheduled meetings with Chris would no longer continue for the foreseeable future. He had scoffed at Darryl's offer to step in, convinced that Darryl would be unable to provide an objective counterpoint. He suspected Darryl of being naturally prejudiced against 'their kind' and subtly accused Darryl of siding with the humans on matters such as territory, rights and freedoms.
The valkyries were not impressed either; thoroughly suspicious of humans and of the male gender in particular, only Chris' longstanding relationship with them had won them over in the beginning of the war efforts. With Chris effectively absent from the leadership group, the warrior women were impatient, suspicious and in some cases, openly hostile with what they felt was a leadership coup by the mortals with Darryl usurping Chris' position.
On the mortal front, humans, riled up by the supposed favouritism they believed the Resistance was fostering with the magical beings, were beginning to become more and more demanding. Explanations of supply issues and fairness in dealing with all communities, magical or otherwise, were sneered at. What did magical beings need so many supplies for? the humans would question. They could conjure up whatever they required. It was the mortals that were in need, and it was the mortals that should be catered to!
This delicate balance of satisfying all parties in an open and transparent manner was giving Darryl a migraine and Les significant frustration. Chris, in the meantime, was disinclined to provide further explanation to all parties, as Darryl insisted he should, saying merely, it was no one's business on the reason for his stepping down but his own.
And it was only week three.
Resolving to speak with Chris again about the situation, Les looked down at his notes. He'd had to dispatch a scout team this morning to mediate a dispute between mortals and the wood nymphs. The dispute was over a body of fresh water, which clearly lay in the wood nymphs' territory. In a nearby town, the humans had gathered up huge plastic containers, intent on pumping the water supply dry. It had been a tense situation; neither side willing to budge an inch. Only through Duncan's fast-talking had the team been able to diffuse the potentially volatile situation.
The alarming part of it all was that similar disputes were breaking out across the country. Where once mortals and magical beings had worked together, it appeared with the threat of mutual annihilation gone, those who were once friends were fast approaching to becoming enemies.
On top of all that, demons were still on the loose. The Resistance, with its reduced numbers, and more and more of the humans and magical beings deserting everyday to resume their past lives, was stretched to a fray. At one fifth of its original size, only the witches remained, barely able to provide the protection demanded by the humans and logistical support demanded by all.
And then there was the truly frustrating of all – the mundane. The Elders, clueless and obviously involved in their own world, had demanded a council meeting to change the name of the Resistance. They were no longer the Resistance anymore, Odin had argued, now that Wyatt had been defeated. They needed a name change to "better reflect their new responsibilities and activities."
Half sarcastically, Darryl had suggested they name the new operation 'Witches and Humans Acting Together.' Odin had responded enthusiastically, until he had realized the acronym spelled 'what.' As Les had guffawed in the background and Lilah had tittered, Odin had stalked out of the room, refusing to return until Darryl 'took him seriously.'
Les snorted to himself in disgust, thinking, bunch of bureaucrats, when a throat cleared rather loudly, distracting him.
The woman frowned at him unhappily, "Where's Chris?"
"Nice to see you too," Les returned, rather sardonically.
Emitting a noise that clearly showed her irritation with his response, Sheridan raised her right eyebrow, "Not funny. Don't give up your day job, okay? I was expecting Chris. This is important."
Les immediately sobered, "He wasn't feeling well. He asked me to come in his place. You know you can deal with me."
Sheridan continued to frown at her visitor, "Yes, but I trust Chris."
Exasperated, Les threw his arms into the air helplessly, "Well, you can either discuss whatever you had to discuss with Chris with me, or you can wait for him to get better. And God only knows when that will be."
"I waited three weeks for the runner to send the message to you and get back with a response," Sheridan tossed her hair over one shoulder as she abruptly turned on her heel to head back into the now open gate. "I'm certainly not waiting another three. Follow me." Without another word, the former inspector set a quick pace towards the city centre, leaving Les to trail in her wake. As he nipped inside the city walls behind her, Les heard the loud creaking as the mechanics of the gate grinded, effectively locking him in behind the thick steel doors.
Breaking into a slight jog to catch up with the trim figure in front, Les could see in his peripheral vision faces peering out from behind windows and doors as he passed by. Up ahead, Sheridan had already arrived at the former city hall, her foot impatiently tapping against the pavement as she waited for Les to catch up. Closing the last few metres between them, Les tossed a final look over his shoulder sensing that he was being watched, though he saw no one behind him. He shivered slightly, though unsure whether it was from the slight breeze or the feeling that he wasn't exactly welcomed.
"Are the locals always this friendly?" Les joked, though the strain in his voice was apparent.
Sheridan sighed, closing the door behind them. Leading the way towards one of the meeting rooms, she shrugged. "I'm sorry. People are just…on edge."
Les looked at his companion rather sceptically, "Duncan told me you didn't exactly roll out the red carpet when he was here a couple weeks back, either."
Jenny rubbed her temple wearily, "I'll tell you exactly what I told Chris and Duncan before. People are scared. Scared of magic. And you have it, so obviously, people are scared of you."
"Well it's not obvious to me," Les shot back. "It's not like I'm going to eat their babies or something!"
Jenny rolled her eyes, "Now you're being irrational."
Les blinked in disbelief, "These people are afraid of me, one of the guys who risked their lives for you, and you say I'm irrational?"
"Look, I called you, or rather Chris, here today, because this is exactly what I wanted to talk about," Jenny pointed out. "Have you thought about getting those ID cards yet?"
Les shook his head adamantly, "We took it to the council. They, as I do, thought it was a foolish idea. However, if it will truly make you feel safer, we're willing to do it."
Jenny closed her eyes in relief, "Thank you. I know it seems like a stupid idea to you, but believe me, it will go a long way in reassuring my group, especially the extremists, that you guys are on our side."
"How can there be any doubt?" Les glared. "For christ's sake. I lost friends and family in the war. How can you even doubt my intentions?"
"It's not you I doubt Les," Jenny soothed. "But look at it from our perspective, okay? Put yourselves in our shoes for just a minute. Magic was something we were taught from birth that didn't exist. It existed only in fairy tales or old wives' tales. And then, suddenly, we get knocked off our feet - our first exposure to it was from Wyatt. Before we've even had a chance to digest that magic exists, we're running for our lives. Can you really blame these people for being a little bit cautious now that they've had a chance to think about it?"
Running his hand tiredly through his hair, Les sighed, "I guess not." Taking a deep breath, "Is that it?"
Shaking her head, Jenny chose a chair and waved her hand indicating for Les to take a seat as well. "No. That was the easy part."
"Easy?" Les' eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Do I really want to hear this?"
"No," Jenny smirked just a bit. "Remember, I did send for Chris."
"Don't remind me," Les groaned, pretending to slump in his chair in defeat.
"Before we get into that though, that reminds me – what is exactly wrong with Chris?" Jenny's forehead creased in concern.
Les shrugged, his eyes eyeing the floor evasively, "No idea. He hasn't deigned to share with me."
Jenny eyed the witch sceptically, "Somehow I doubt that." As she continued to watch Les squirm under her penetrating gaze, she snorted, "Fine. I assume you'd tell me if it was something serious?"
Again, Les made sure he kept his expression carefully blank, "He's just feeling a little under the weather. You know he took Wyatt's death hard. He was, after all, Chris' brother."
"I see," Jenny replied gruffly. "Tell him…tell him, I hope he feels better soon."
Les inclined his head silently in assent.
Clearing her throat delicately, Jenny affixed her unnerving stare on Les, "We need to talk."
"Isn't that what we're doing?" Les joked weakly, quickly sobering at Jenny's withering glare. "All right. Spit it out. You obviously have something on your mind."
"The valkyries. They've got access to clean water and other natural resources that we could really use," Jenny began.
"Which belong to them!" Les cut her off cleanly. "Valhalla has belonged to the valkyries since the beginning of time – surely you don't expect them to give up their homes for you!"
"Of course not," Jenny snapped back. "What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, was we wanted to have someone negotiate with them on our behalf. Surely we have something of value they would want to trade for. It's why I sent for Chris – I know he has a relationship with them…they trust him."
Les frowned, "I'm not sure you would have anything to offer them. They live very simply."
Jenny rolled her eyes, "Well, we aren't going to know unless we ask. And right now they've got access to something we desperately need."
"You have the allotment of supplies from the Resistance!" Les protested.
Jenny shook her head, "It's not enough. We need to rebuild, fast. If we're willing to trade, why do you care?"
Les sighed, "Fine. I'll see what I can do. But honestly, Chris is the one with the connections. I'm not sure I'll be able to get the valkyries to talk even to me."
"Which is why I asked Chris to come in the first place!" Jenny pointed out, rather exasperatedly.
Les acknowledged the truth of the statement with a slight bow of his head, "So…anything else on your mind?"
"As a matter of fact, there is," Jenny looked at Les straight in the eye. "What the hell is this I hear about some damned pub those leprechauns wasted precious materials on building?"
Les shook his head, "I don't know anything about that."
Jenny searched Les' face suspiciously, before she relented, "I want to know if it's true. If it is, then I want to know why. You get your ass back to Chris and find out. Sick or no sick, if I find out it's true, I'm kicking his sorry ass clear across this country. I've got mouths to feed and sick to care for. If one twig from the resource allotment went into a pleasure house for those drunkards, there'll be hell to pay."
Blanching slightly at the threat in Jenny's voice, Les rose to take his leave, "Got it. Pub bad, ass kicked. I'll be in touch once I find out from Chris."
As Les began to leave, Jenny called out after him, "You know, this all could have been avoided if Chris had just come to meet me instead."
Without bothering to answer, Les merely waved his hand in goodbye. Don't I know it…
Covering his mouth, doubled over with pain, Chris continued to hack and cough. He looked up to see Lilah watching him patiently, her face full of sympathy.
"Stop looking at me like that," he growled, a little unfairly.
"Like how?" Lilah murmured, placing her hands over his chest, focusing on the soft golden glow as she healed him as much as she could. God, I hate seeing him so weak, she thought.
They were in Chris' quarters; Chris was sitting on the couch and Lilah was seated next to him. On the table, various needles and medicines littered its surface. Nearby, a trash receptacle was filling quickly with discarded empty bottles.
"Like I'm some injured puppy," Chris pushed the whitelighter's hands away as another coughing fit overcame him. Wiping his mouth with the white cloth as soon as the fit died down, she winced, noticing the fresh blood spattered lightly across it.
"I wasn't aware I was looking at you in any particular way," Lilah replied smoothly, placing her hands on his back instead, letting the healing power work its way through her to Chris.
Chris rolled his eyes, openly daring her to contradict him, "Oh please. I saw the expression on your face." His pitched his voice an octave higher, clearly attempting to mimic Lilah's voice mockingly, "Poor Chris. Why is this happening to him?"
Knowing Chris' pride was causing him to lash out at her, Lilah responded evenly, "I think we both know why this is happening to you. My concern is that you get better."
Sighing, his energy exhausted by the coughing fits and subsequent emotional outburst, Chris laid back on the couch, his throat raw and hoarse, saying only, "That's enough for now."
Opening her mouth to protest, Lilah's mouth snapped shut at Chris' steely-eyed glare. Sighing, she removed her hands from his back, "Chris – it's getting worse. Don't be so impatient. Of course it's going to take more time for me to…help you."
"It doesn't matter."
She sighed again, getting up to cross the room and picking up one of the fresh needles, "At least let me give you something for the pain." Turning to face him, she watched as he grimaced, nodding reluctantly. In the beginning, he had vetoed the painkillers, claiming he couldn't think straight with his body full of chemicals. However, in the last couple of days, he had reneged on this protest, indicating to Lilah just how bad his condition was worsening.
Giving the needle a quick tap to make sure the bubbles were gone, she walked over to Chris, perching on the end of the couch's arm. He rolled up his sleeve, letting Lilah tie the elastic strap around his upper arm. Testing the syringe, she met his green eyes before focusing on finding his vein. Slapping his arm slightly, she silently handed him an empty pill bottle to wrap his fist around to form a ball. Swabbing the area with alcohol, she quickly inserted the needle into Chris' arm, releasing the liquid from the syringe. Carefully keeping hold of the needle, she untied the strap before finally removing the now empty needle. It was pure luck that Lilah's former occupation before becoming a whitelighter was a nurse.
His eyes were focused on something behind her and he said naught a word during the entire process. Letting the painkillers do its work, Lilah busied herself with cleaning up the table.
A hoarse whisper greeted her ears, "How long?"
Choosing to misinterpret the question, Lilah replied briskly, pretending to be engrossed in tidying up, "The pain killer should wear off in about eight hours. You're developing a resistance to them so I've been upping the dosage to get you the same effect. I won't be able to continue to increase it any more."
Silence. And then, "That wasn't what I meant."
"I know," Lilah said softly. Her back still to the young man, she felt her eyes prick with tears. "I…I don't know. Soon. I think." She waited for him to lash out at her, at the unfairness of it all, bracing herself to offer him small comfort and the hope that she had no right to offer.
But instead, she got the unexpected.
"Thanks."
Whipping around in astonishment, she met his green eyes in bewilderment and disbelief, "For what?"
Chris smiled crookedly, "For being honest with me. Everyone else keeps telling me it's going to be okay. You don't know how irritating that can get after awhile."
Feeling the tears flooding her eyes, she struggled to hold onto her composure, "I wish…I wish…"
Chris shook his head, "No recriminations, Lilah. No regrets. What's done is done. What is, is."
Her smile was watery, "When'd you get so philosophical?"
"I always…I knew there'd be a chance…," Chris' voice trailed off. "There's always a price to pay for personal gain."
But not this price!, Lilah screamed in her head. Not this!
Chris chuckled, his black humour asserting itself, "Kind of funny actually. All those times I'd lectured mom and her sisters on personal gain consequences in the past. I guess karma really does come around."
"No," Lilah whispered, heart broken.
His eyes were a luminous green as they met hers. "It's okay, Lilah. Really it is. I've made my peace with it. And so should you."
She drew her breath in, shaken; her voice was bitter. "I don't…I don't want to. I don't want to make peace with it."
His smile held a trace of pity, "You have nothing to feel guilty about."
"Nothing to feel guilty about?" Lilah protested. "I'm your whitelighter. Your friend. If anyone can heal you, it should be me." Her voice died to a whisper, "I should be able to heal you."
Chris shrugged matter of fact, "And I should have saved Wyatt. We can't always know what the future has in store. Perhaps it's fate."
Knowing full well his opinion on fate, she gave him an evil stare, sniffling, "Haha. Aren't you the funny one today."
He said simply, "I try."
Unable to think of anything to say, Lilah moved to sit next to her friend. Cautiously, she reached for his hand, lest he reject her offer of comfort. When he didn't pull away, she felt encouraged, pulling it into her lap as they both stared straight ahead, each lost in their own thoughts. For a long time, they sat there, his hand limp in hers.
She felt his hand slowly grasp hers, threading his fingers through hers.
She gave it a comforting squeeze.
Oh, Chris…The meeting with Sheridan hadn't gone well, but at least he had finished some paper work. So the day wasn't a complete waste, Les thought ruefully.
Looking up at the knock on his door, he motioned for the individual to enter. Not recognizing the woman in front of him, he merely raised his eyebrow in question.
The young woman, a brunette, put a package of paper in front of him. She pointed at the bottom of the page, and in a no nonsense manner, "Requisition order for water filtration equipment to be installed at the LA site."
Trying not to sigh, Les squinted at the page. Not understanding a thing written on it, he asked defeated, "Just tell me where to sign."
Her mouth quirking slightly, the young woman reached across the desk, leaning forward to put her finger next to an 'x'. "If you could just sign there, please." As Les provided his signature, the woman began to flip through the pages, indicating with her index finger, "And your initials here, here, here and here."
Done, he handed back the papers to the woman. "That was worse than my first mortgage."
Letting out a tinkling laugh, the woman waved goodbye and exited the office.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, Les wondered if he could sneak out. 7PM. If he left now, he would be able to catch the last round of hot food for dinner in the mess hall. Feeling sheepish, he rose from his desk, ready to make his way from the command centre. Cautiously peeping his head out, he felt a sigh of relief as he noticed the telepaths at the communications net were engrossed in their duties. Padding softly towards the exit, Les held his breath. He placed his hand on the door, ready to push it open and make his escape.
"Shit!"
Damn, Les thought, before turning back reluctantly, what now?
One of the telepaths was clutching his head, his eyes closed and his face wrinkled in concentration. "Message from sector nine. They're detecting heightened magical activity."
"What do you mean, heightened?" Les asked, anxiously, rushing back into the room.
"I don't know…" the man shook his head. "They're not sure. But the crystals the team set as alarms are going crazy."
"What's out there?" Les demanded, worried. "Civilians?"
The telepath paused, clearly waiting for a response, "Small town. Population 1,000. But the team's about three hours away from the town where the alarm set off and they don't have a whitelighter with them to orb there. It's one of those towns that weren't fully swept before the town moved back."
Les cursed the town's people for their impatience, "Damn. Could be demons. Okay, get me a whitelighter to meet me in the great hall. I want to orb there, pronto."
The telepath blinked in surprise, "Just you?"
"Yes, just me," Les growled. "If it looks like it's going to be a situation, I'll call for back up. I am a telepath."
The man muttered, "Just checking."
Les sighed. "I know. Thanks for asking. Now did you get me that whitelighter?"
The other man nodded, "There's one finishing up in sector eight. He should be orbing in any minute."
Nodding in satisfaction, Les clapped his colleague lightly on the shoulder, "Good man. Okay, you know where to reach me if you need me."
Concentrating on keeping her stomach contents down, Piper crossed through the triquetra. No matter how many times she and her sisters had travelled through time, she had never, repeat never, gotten use to her stomach dropping out from her.
Stumbling forward, Piper barely gave her new surroundings a cursory glace, instead trying to get her bearings. Giving in to temporary weakness, she bent over, taking slow, deep, even breaths. Behind her, she felt Leo's hand rub her back reassuringly, and clutching onto his arm, she hauled herself upwards.
"You okay?" Leo asked, his face full of worry.
Nodding curtly, she glanced behind to make sure her sisters were okay. Phoebe seemed to be the most out of it, stumbling drunkenly around before catching hold of Paige's arm to steady herself. Paige seemed remarkably fine, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened and was already busy studying the skyline.
"Do you think we did it?" Paige asked doubtfully. "I mean, when and where do you think we are?"
"No idea. Doesn't matter – no time to worry about that now. We need to find Chris and Wyatt – now." Phoebe insisted, her head still spinning.
Piper nodded. "But where do we start?"
Paige pointed at a black dot in the distance, "Well, how about there?"
She glanced up at the sun, noting the late hour. The sky was a haze of red and orange, the humidity in the evening air creating a red ring around the sun. Dusk had arrived and the night was fast approaching.
She sighed again, barely containing the urge to tap her foot impatiently. She kept her hands at her sides, her sword, tucked away in its sheath, easily within reach. Annoyed now, she called out impatiently, "Zankou! Where the hell are you?"
The sound of the demon flaming in accompanied with the brilliant orangey red of the fire appeared in front of her. He smiled gamely at the valkyrie, "Good evening, Kate. So nice of you to meet with me."
She eyed the demon uncertainly, "I'm telling you once and for all, the valkyries will not join you."
"But you haven't even heard my terms," Zankou said smoothly. "We have a mutual…problem."
"Which would be?" Kate asked sceptically.
"Humans," Zankou shrugged. "We both know that since magic's been exposed, the humans have been leery of all magical beings, demons or otherwise. I don't know about you, but the greedy little things are trying to push us back into the underworld, claiming that above ground is their territory."
Kate was unsympathetic, "And so it is."
"But we don't like being trapped down there. We like being able to roam the earth," Zankou's voice was soft and persuading. "Why should we be relegated to beneath it?"
Kate's right eyebrow rose dramatically, pointing out the obvious, "Because you're demons?"
Zankou snorted. "I hardly think that should exclude us from…integrating…with the rest of you above ground if we so choose. We're not asking for a lot, just a small piece of land to call our own." He paused, "Like you."
"Meaning?" Kate growled.
Again, Zankou shrugged, giving Kate the impression of a slithery snake. "Meaning I'd heard that some of the humans were claiming Valhalla is a prime piece of property and why should the valkyries get to keep it?"
"That property has belonged to the valkyries since the beginning of time," Kate insisted, her voice ringing hollow in her ears. One of the few remaining unspoiled areas to escape relatively unscathed from the war, she was well aware that some of the humans were jostling for division of the territory. Resentment was riding high and the humans were calling on the valkyries to 'share the wealth' of the resource rich land. However, Chris had assured her at their last meeting it was only a choice few, troublemakers really, and that he was keeping on top of it. However, the fact that he had been unreachable in the past three weeks only furthered her suspicion that something was indeed up. She pointed out half-heartedly, "There is no dispute of ownership."
"Really?" Zankou's voice practically dripped with scepticism. "Funny. I heard differently."
"And what exactly did you hear?" Kate demanded, her temper rising.
"Only that Chris was meeting with some of the humans to discuss Valhalla," Zankou replied. "The one…oh, what's her name?" He snapped his fingers, "Sheridan!"
"Sheridan!" Kate's mouth dropped open in outrage. She knew that that particular human was significant cause for concern. Influential on the humans, Sheridan had made no effort to disguise her fear and disdain of the magical beings. It would just be like that woman to cause a commotion! Her nostrils flaring, Kate demanded, "Where is Chris meeting her?"
Zankou smiled slightly, "I'm not sure. I do know he was meeting with her today. I suspect he would meet with her on her own turf, don't you think?"
Her entire being concentrating on this injustice, Kate turned around abruptly, ready to leave and seek out Chris at his secret meeting to demand an explanation. She stopped, throwing over her shoulder, "Thank you for the info. I will return the favour by telling you this one last time. I speak for all valkyries when I say it will be a cold day in hell before we join forces with the ranks of demons, no matter what happens with the humans. Maybe next time you should think twice about joining forces with a madman." Without another word, she left.
Staring at the space where the valkyrie had just been standing, Zankou could feel the corners of his mouth begin to turn up into a small, evil smile, "Thank you, my lady."
Blues orbs tinkling were the only warning the Charmed Ones got.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Les asked, his mouth open in disbelief, as he caught sight of exactly what had set off the heightened alarm.
Dusting themselves off, the Charmed Ones and Leo blinked in surprise at the sight of Les demanding an explanation. Looking amongst themselves, Phoebe decided to answer for all of them, "Errr. We came to visit?"
Letting out a streak of curses enough to cause the sisters' cheeks to pinken and Leo to look uncomfortable, Les reined in his temper with Herculean effort, "I repeat. What – are – you – doing – here?"
Not willing to be intimidated, Piper stepped forward, her hands on her hips, "Look, you…you…you fishwife! I'm here to make sure Chris is okay. And I don't care what you think!"
Snapping his mouth closed, Les looked mildly insulted, "I am NOT a fishwife."
"What else would you call someone who nags and yells at people who have perfectly good reasons for being where they're being," Piper snapped, her temper short and conveying itself in no uncertain terms to the telepath.
Rubbing his forehead wearily, Les looked upwards, his voice pleading, "You have no sense of proportion, do you? It's just one thing after another. You never think we could use a break from all the excitement…maybe a little down time. A day off every once and awhile."
"Uh, who are you talking to?" Phoebe asked, leaning forward to whisper rather loudly.
Snapping back to attention, Les sighed. "No one. Look we need to get you out of here…it's not safe here."
"Not safe?" Paige queried, her voice raising swiftly in alarm. "What do you mean, not safe? I thought we saved the future!"
"Not here," Les glanced to his left and to his right. A crowd was swiftly forming around them, unbeknownst to the visitors from the past. He hissed, "We'll talk about this back at headquarters."
"Those…those are the Charmed Ones!" a voice from the crowd insisted.
Turning around slowly, the sisters and Leo finally noticed the precarious situation they were in. A crowd of about a hundred people were pushing forward, their fingers pointing, their faces filled with suspicion.
"I knew it! I knew they were still alive!"
"You lied to us! You said they were dead!"
"They can fix everything…you always claimed the Charmed Ones were more powerful than Wyatt. Get them to fix our homes!"
"We need water!"
"My daughter needs medicine!"
"My baby's sick!"
"Yeah, get them to fix our homes and our lives while they're at it!"
The crowd pressed closer and closer, the accusation on their faces as they demanded the Charmed Ones to fix everything. Panicking, the sisters threw a desperate glance at Les, who quickly stepped between the crowd and the Charmed Ones. Whispering over his shoulder at the sisters, "Back away. Slowly."
"But wha –," Phoebe started to say.
"Just do it!" Les hissed, making eye contact with the whitelighter. "First sign of trouble and you orb them out of here, understand?"
Hesitantly, the whitelighter nodded, "What about you?"
Before Les could respond, something smacked him in the chest. Glancing at his feet stupidly, he realized that someone had chucked a small rock at him. Whipping his head back up to meet the angry mob's, he protested, "Hey. Let's just calm down."
"We don't need to calm down. What we need is our supplies, like you promised!" A voice shouted over the angry mob's mutterings. A chorus of 'yays' supported the call.
Putting his hands up in a placating manner, Les tried to diffuse the situation, "Without factories and production lines operating at full capacity, we're still on ration situation…"
"We're tired of your excuses!"
Les ducked as another rock was whipped at his head. Angry, he yelled at the mob, "Hey, someone could get hurt here!"
The mob, clearly smelling blood, closed in for the kill. Someone heckled back, "Yeah – you!"
Shit!"That's it!" Piper exclaimed furiously, her hands waving in the air as she effectively froze the rapidly expanding mob.
What the hell was happening?Letting out a sigh of relief, Les eyed the now frozen crowd apprehensively. Time enough later to sort that question out. First things first. Getting the Charmed Ones back to their own time had rocketed to the top of list of things to do. "Let's get out of here."
Opening her mouth to demand again, what the hell was going on, Les shook his head at Piper. "Trust me. We really need to get out of here."
Glancing over at the angry mob, their expressions frozen in rage and hatred, Piper shuddered. Turning away, she exchanged a worried glance with Leo before agreeing, huskily, "You're right. Let's get out of here."
Looking at the whitelighter, Les nodded, "Follow us." And the two disappeared in a flurry of blue lights.
Grasping Phoebe's hand, Paige quickly followed, her blue orbs dissolving.
Throwing one last look at the innocents that it had always been impressed upon her as her duty to protect, she stepped into Leo's embrace. As they dematerialized, she saw the crowd recover from her freezing power in time to hear them yell something that made her blood curdle.
Burn witches, burn!To be continued…
