A/N: This chapter is a play on, "The Doctor Is In," and you shall find out why soon enough. Sorry for the lateness, but I just got over with finals on Friday. Please enjoy!

Change Happens

Chapter 8: The Demon Is In

With a small gasp, Piper sputtered to life. "Oh my god!"

"Shh, shh. It's okay," the whitelighter soothed, now transformed back into a male form. Leo took Piper and pulled her to his chest, rubbing her back as she regained her composure.

"Leo?"

"Yeah?"

The timer fought back tears as images of Prue flashed through her mind. "Do you..." She clung to the soft of Leo's shirt. "Do you think it worked?"

The whitelighter's eyes shifted the ceiling as if silently pleading to all that was divine. "I hope so."

----

"A-a midwife?" Paige/Huldra stammered. "But won't an early c-section hurt the Prophet Guardian?"

The Source shifted violently towards Paige/Huldra, holding his yellowed bone-like hand close to her face as a ball of dancing flames appeared in his hand. "Do you dare question your Master?"

As much as it pained her, the whitelighter-witch bowed her head in a submissive manner. "No, Sire. I only want what's best for the Forces of Darkness." She shifted ever so slightly away from the burning sphere. "And if we take the child before it's time, we may risk hurting or killing our only chance at getting our hands on those documents."

There was a tense moment of silence, before the glowing orange sphere dissolved into a puff of black smoke and the Demonic King withdrew his hand. "You have a point," he growled from beneath his ebony cloak. He turned to face his warlock minion. "Mora," she hissed. "Have you ever Surrogation Spell?"

Mora shifted her black irises to the rustic tavern floor. "No, Sire." She bowed her head in profuse apology. "But," she croaked, "I know of one. My Mother keeps it within her personal Grimoire. After all, your Highness, she was a warlock midwife before I."

"Bring me this...personal Grimoire." The Source rubbed his flaky yellow fingers together. "And hurry!" His very voice seemed to send the room into a telekinetic tremble.

"Yes Sire!" Mora gasped, as she bowed her head low to her chest and blinked away without a moment's notice.

"What is it you plan to do?" Paige/Huldra inquired carefully.

From her invisible position in the corner of the gave, Phoebe did not like what she was hearing one bit. Not only was Prue already in trouble because of Andy and Pandora's backfired spell, but not The Source wanted to perform a 'Surrogation Spell.' The clairvoyant shook her invisible head violently. That could only mean one thing, she thought to herself. Horror was etched into her clear face. Paige, she grimaced, he wants to move Prue's baby to one of his minions! We have to find and who, and fast! Or Prue and everyone else is doomed!

Don't you think I know that? The witchlighter was keeping her head low to her chest, not wanting to anger The Source anymore, so to not blow their cover. So do you have any bright ideas, Sherlock?

----

"Who the heck are you?" Phiona bellowed, as she walked into the sunroom to find a tall redhead lounging in a white wicker chair.

The redhaired warlock cast a condescending glance at the young witch-whitelighter. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect your elders?" She rose from her chair and swiveled her hands together, forming a pulsating bulb of neon yellow energy. "Allow me to introduce myself," she hissed. "The name's Minerva!" With that, she flung back her arm and sent the pulsating energy at the Blessed One.

The second oldest Blessed One dropped to her knees, allowing the energy to glide just above her head, singing a few stray hairs. "I think Athena would be ashamed that your ripping off her Roman name," she taunted, before flinging out her hand and sending a trail of orbs at Minerva's feet, forcing the warlock to the ground. Rolling to the side, the whitelighter-witch flung out her hand and a cloud of orbs smacked full force into Minerva, sending her crashing through one of the stained glass windows.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that, little witch!" Minerva hissed, after blinking behind Phiona. She grabbed the child by the ponytail and swung her around with inhuman strength, bashing her against the wall and sending her sliding into the living room. The warlock stalked over to Blessed One and leered over her, as she swirled her palms together and hovered an energy ball over the girl's head. She licked her lips as she released the energy ball from her hand.

"Aha!" Phiona threw her hands into the air, in a Piper-like fashion, and orbs surrounded the energy ball and sent it flying straight back at Minerva, sending her crashing backwards.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Phiona looked up to see her mother in the doorway. "Mom!" She gasped, pointing to the intruder. "Warlock!"

"What?" Piper looked around,only to spot the redhead stirring near the fireplace. "Oh no you don't!" Piper flicked her wrists and the room froze. She hurried over to her eldest daughter and bent down, pulling the Blessed One into her arms. "Hey, baby, are you okay?"

Phiona rubbed her head slightly, feeling a large swelling piece of flesh under hair from where Minerva had grabbed her ponytail. "Yeah," she mumbled, "I think I'm fine."

"What happened?" Piper asked, as she gently rubbed her daughter's back.

"I don't know. I just walked into the sunroom and it was like she was waiting for me or something."

"Waiting for you?" Piper tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear, as she took a sideways look at Minerva.

"I think you should just explode her."

"No."

"No?"

"No." Piper helped her daughter to the sofa. "I don't think this was just some random attack."

"What's new?" Phiona continued to rub her head, as she leaned into the overstuffed cushions.

"This may have something to do with where your aunts are." The Charmed One looked towards the ceiling. "Leo!"

"What's dad got to do with this?"

"I need him to ask The Elders about our warlock."

"She said her name's Minerva."

A small cloud of blue hazy orbs formed in the corner of the room, descending from the ceiling and swirling around into the form of the average sized, blonde whitelighter. "Piper, what's wrong?"

"I want you to go Up There are ask them for all of what they know about our little friend," the Charmed One replied. "And," she placed a soft hand on the back of her daughter's head, "heal Phi."

"What happened?" The whitelighter walked briskly towards his daughter and placed a healing hand over the swollen bump on her head. A golden glow emitted and moments later, there was no evidence of a bump. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks, dad." Phiona flashed him a pearly smile.

"Good." The blonde placed a small kiss on his eldest's forehead, before orbing out.

"Max!"

Max appeared at the top of the stairway with the Book of Shadows in one hand and a potion in the other. "Piper?"

"Can you bring down the trapping crystals, please? And the Book."

"On their way," the male witch replied as he began to descend the stairs. A few moments later a trail of bobbing white crystals floated through the air behind him.

"Prue would be really proud, you know." The elder witch smiled, as she slipped the Book from Max.

"Thanks." Max flopped down next to Phiona, as the crystals psychokinetically surrounded Minerva. The young witch stared at the warlock for a moment, before scratching his head in thought. "Is that...Minerva?"

"What?" The brunette Charmed One did a double take. "You know her?"

"Know of her," the African-American corrected. "My mother had a entry about her, in her Book of Shadows. She and her sister, Mora, are warlock heiresses to a powerful line of warlock midwives."

Something seemed to click in Piper's brain, as the pages of the Book began to flip themselves. "Midwives?" She drew in sharply. "This is so not good!" She turned on her heel and waved her hand, unfreezing only the head of the warlock. "Where's my sister?"

Minerva stared down at her frozen body and shook her head. "I won't tell you anything!"

"Oh yes you will!" Piper raised a threatening hand. "Shall we start with your limbs?"

"I'd rather die!"

Piper thrust out her palms and refroze the warlock. She would have to vanquish, her she knew. But she didn't want to just yet, as she wasn't sure if she would prove useful later.

----

Although his face was hidden, the whitelighter-witch was sure that The Source of All Evil was smiling from beneath his black hood. She internally grimaced, as she watched him drag his dry finger over the Surrogation Spell.

"Come with me," The Source commanded. He turned sharply, book in hand, and started down a long corridor with nothing but small torches lighting his way.

Obediently, Mora stared after him, with her face down low to her chest. For she had waited so long to prove herself to the Demonic King and elevate her status in the Underworld.

Paige/Huldra hung behind a moment, waiting for Phoebe.

Right behind you. Phoebe silently trotted up behind her sister and gave her a gentle squeeze on the arm. She knew Paige's heart was pounding as fast as hers, because in just a few moments, they would be standing right next to Prue. Go on, before he gets suspicious.

Paige/Huldra hurried along, quietly catching up a few paces behind Mora. The long walk seemed to take forever, however in actuality, it was only about ten minutes before she came to an abrupt halt.

The Source clicked his fingers and the walls groaned in agony, before the corridor began to shake violently as the rock broke away and revealed a nearly dark room. The Source slunk in and disappeared into the darkness.

Mora stood for a moment, awe etched into her face, and then she carefully entered into the inky black.

Come on. Paige/Huldra thought, as she waited for Phoebe's touch on her arm. When she felt it, she allowed herself to step into the corridor.

The psychic held in a small breath, as the rock doors slammed behind her. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did, they landed on the shaft of light that contained her eldest sister. Prue! Oh my god!

Prue's raven hair flailed against the water. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful. Like a mermaid. Her skin and ebony hair seemed to glisten against the water's ripples.

"What do we need?" The Source questioned, as he shoved the small black book into Mora's hands.

"Just the blood of the mother and the blood of the surrogate mother."

The Demon King reached into his black robes and claimed a glinting, jeweled athame. He walked over to Paige/Huldra and grabbed her wrist. "You'll carry the Prophet Guardian," he commanded, before pressing the blade firmly to the palm of Paige/Huldra's hand.

TO BE CONTINUED...