A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. I've been on vacation in the wonderful city of Charmed (San Francisco), from Tuesday through Saturday (we stayed an extra night to go visit Alcatraz), and then I came home only to babysit a four-month-old, and then I had to work Sunday, and when I finally did get the computer, it was taken away because my Mom said she wanted to use the computer "for a few minutes" (which turned into ALL night). So here I am, FINALLY updating for you all. Whew.

Change Happens

Chapter 37: Primrose Apath

Alternate Pamela buzzed around her friend, hovering closely over Persia Halliwell's shoulder. Her eyes were glued to the map and the swinging crystal that hung from Persia's slim fingers. They'd been trying to track Michelle Bigelow for over an hour.

"This isn't doing us any good." Persia let the crystal drop from her hand, landing with a thump on the center of the map.

Emma folded her arms. "I bet you she's in the Underworld."

"Well how in the world are we supposed to track her there?"

"We could just start vanquishing," Alternate Pamela suggested.

"That'll get us far." Persia tapped her index finger against her temple as she paced her room. A massive headache was beginning to form. This was not the problem she wanted her friend her for.

"Persia?"

The teenager swung her head up, just as her bedroom door swung open. "Mom!"

Phoebe's mouth opened and then abruptly shut as she stared at the guests from the alternate world. "Uhm…Pamela?" Her head twisted to Persia. "I didn't realize you had company."

Persia chewed her lip. "Actually, I invited Pam over for the, uhm, to talk…" She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "But we sort of have a problem."

Phoebe's brows lifted. "A problem?" She glanced quickly at Emma, and back to her daughter.

"Yeah. Emma was attacked and she and the demon-"

"Apath."

"What?"

"Apath," Emma said again. "She's not a demon. She's an immortal apath. There's a difference."

"Right." Persia shook her head. It felt like a jackhammer was pounding behind her eyes. "The apath, or whatever she is, came through the portal with Emma."

"And she orbed off," Alternate Pamela finished impatiently.

"Orbed?"

"Dark orbed. It's a culmination of burgundy orbs; apathic orbing." Emma bit her lip. "We think she might be in your Underworld, and we need to find her before she causes any damage to your world."

Phoebe opened her mouth to reply, when the sound of Cole's voice stopped her. She craned her neck in the opposite direction, just as her husband's frowning face came into view. "Cole," she paused, "is something wrong?"

Cole scratched his head. "I just wanted to tell you about something I saw on the news." He stopped just inches from his wife, and brushed a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "But judging from the look on your face, it looks like you have something more important going on."

"Persia's flying an evil flag."

"She turned evil again?"

"No!" Phoebe jerked open her daughter's door. "She's fine. But we've got a-a…what did you call it?"

"Apath."

"An apath from Pamela's world loose in ours."

"Great." Cole poked his head into his step-daughter's room. "What's the cliff note's version?"

"Emma thinks she might be in the Underworld," Persia blurted out. "Do you think you might be able to go down there and see if you can find anything out?"

Cole nodded. "Uh, sure." He narrowed his blue eyes. "Who, exactly, am I looking for though?"

A glowing globe of white psionic energy appeared above Emma's head. It flew from her forehead into Cole's, pushing him back slightly. She narrowed her gaze. "Does that help?"

Cole's brow furrowed. "What did you just do?" He asked, his mind still a little fuzzy.

"I sent you one of my mental images of Michelle," the immortal empath replied. "That's who you're looking for, by the way. Michelle Bigelow."

"Michelle." Cole cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, be back as soon as I can." He quickly kissed his wife's forehead and shimmered out of sight.

"I'm thinking we should head to the Manor," Phoebe suggested. "We can consult the Book there."

"I don't know how much help your Book will be," Emma confessed. "Unless you have importal apaths here?"

"Not that I've heard of." Phoebe shook her head. "Okay, well, how about we at least go to tell my sisters about this? Seven heads are better than four, you know."

"Yeah, okay." Persia shook her head, breezing past her mother and moving down the hallway.

"Persia!" Alternate Pamela charged after her. "Where the hell are you going?"

"To get some asprin." Persia disappeared down the hallway with only one thing on her mind. This is not what I signed on for!

----

"Oh!" Piper Halliwell's hand shot out in lightning speed, reacting to the sight of five of her most expensive wine bottles flying through the air. She'd previously busied herself with inventory, while burly moving men had been in and out of her club, P3. She'd walked out just in time to see one of them walk backwards into the corner of her wine table, which she'd had yet to count.

Over the past few days, Piper had signed on a new design firm to remodel her VIP seating area. She'd been thoroughly impressed by the work of the head designer, Marisole Sudney, and the rates had seemed very reasonable. The trouble hadn't started until this morning, when the moving men arrived. They were everything but graceful.

Five bulls in a China shop, the timer thought dryly. She hurried over to her stationary table, which was half tipped over. The five bottles of wine were suspended in a range from one to ten inches above of the ground. She eagerly collected the bottles, piling them into her arms, and then squinted her eyes at the men.

"Oog!" The man who'd wedged himself into the table gave a muffled growl, just as the table hit the floor sideways. "Can't you place these things anywhere else?"

Piper's eyes burned. "Can't you watch where you're going?" She snarled. The witch turned on her heel, heading towards her back room. As she got within a foot of the doorway, another noise caught her attention. She wrinkled her nose. "It sounds like a T.V." She twisted her head from right to left, seeing no one. Deciding to be sure, she ducked into her office and deposited the wine bottles on her desk, not even stopping to move her inventory papers. As long as they're out of the way of those guys.

Rubbing her head, Piper stepped back out of her office and began to carefully follow the faint sound of the television that she'd heard moments before. She knew for a fact that she hadn't turned on the small T.V. that she kept behind P3's stage. However, when she ducked behind the large burnt red curtain, it was on. And, she guessed, it didn't turn on by itself.

The witch placed her hands on her hips as her eyes landed on the back of the shaggy black haired man in front of her television. "Excuse me," she hissed, "but just what do you think you're doing back here?"

The greasy haired man lifted his hand, holding up a black remote. His finger pressed the 'Mute' button, and then he shifted around on the small sofa he was sitting on, and smiled sweetly at Piper. "Oh, hey!" He dipped his hand into a half eaten bag of potato chips. "I was just takin' five, so I thought I'd stroll around and take a look-see." He pulled a handful of chips out and stuffed them into his mouth. "Nifce pwace," he mumbled through a mouthful of chips.

Piper brushed across the room in a flash, and grabbed the controls from the seat cushion next to him. "Well your five is up!" She flicked her hand towards the door. "And this is a staff and performers only zone!"

"Sorry!" The man held up his hands in defeat. "Geeze, didn't realize you were so hormonal about things."

"Hormonal?" Her eyes flashed. "Hormonal?" Piper's fingers flexed, but she somehow managed to keep her powers in check. "Out!"

Glaring, the man stumbled out of the room, muttering something snotty under his breath.

Once he was gone, Piper placed her hands to her head in anger. Then her nose twitched as she began to rub her fingers over the television controller. Looking down at it, she noticed oily fingerprints. No doubt from the chips. Her eyes widened. The chips! Her brown irises shifted to the couch, which was littered with oily chips. "Aw crap!"

Grabbing the bag, she could see that oil stains now covered the formally expensive piece of furniture. It had been part of her old VIP lounge, and in pristine condition. Piper had planned on selling it, and using the cash to help pay for her VIP lounge remodel. "Well," she growled spitefully, "that takes care of that idea!"

Spinning around, Piper lifted her hand to press the 'Power' button on the remote control. The television was still on mute, but the words at the bottom of the screen caught her eyes instead. 'Crazy for Coo-Coo Patients!' Piper snickered in spite of herself. The press, she thought, are the absolute worst at coming up with good puns. She shook her head, curiosity overcoming her, and the pressed the button to up the volume.

"Breaking news! I've just received word that two of the mentally disturbed patients have attacked and killed one of the doctors!"

The Charmed One's brows furrowed. "Psycho patients turning on the doctors," Piper sighed. "It sounds like something out of 'Kingdom Hospital,' not real life." Her thumb hovered over the button, just as an establishing shot of the San Francisco Psychiatric Hospital appeared on screen. Piper stared, almost transfixed for a moment, and then quickly pressed the button. The screen went black, and Piper dropped the bag and remote back onto the sofa. "I'll deal with this later," she sighed. "I always do."

----

Pandora Trudeau pinched the bridge of her nose. "Daddy," she groaned, "it smewlls."

Andy chuckled as he ruffled his daughter's long, raven locks. "It's just the fish and saltwater," he assured. "It's how Pier 39 always smells."

Pandora shook her head forcefully. "Aways yucky?" She placed her hand on her hip, looking so much like her mother. "I don't likes it."

"You and me both, kid."

Pandora turned around and smiled at her uncle, even through her discomfort. "Yucky."

Glenn had his hand clamped over his nose. "This was definitely one of the things I did not miss about San Francisco." He waved his hand towards the hills, leading away from the water. "It's not so bad up there, but down by the water…" He shook his head, frowning behind his cupped hand.

"It's not so bad," Andy defended. "It's like a…a pet shop! It's like the fish section of a pet shop." He waved his hand at the boats that were bobbing in the water. "A pet shop amplified." He wrapped his hands around the bar of the stroller and pushed it forward. "It reminds me of this one pet store back in Nevada." His eyes were wistful. "I was visiting my grandmother for the summer back when I was seventeen, and she wanted to take me down to Virginia City for the day. She figured that, while we were close by, we could also detour to visit the capital."

"Is that the same grandmother you guys went to see for your Family Reunion?"

Andy nodded. "Sasha."

Pandora's eyes lit up. "Gweat Nana Sasha!" The little witch tugged at her father's pant leg. "I member hew, daddy. I likeded hew."

"Anyway," Andy moved on, "we got lost down town, and stopped into this one pet shop for directions. It was a really small, cramped little place called Jan's Tropics. I'll never forget that trip, because that was the day I got George."

"George?"

"The best dog I've ever known. He was a Black Lab and Golden Retriever cross breed. A gorgeous dog, by the way. He had that long, thick hair like a Retriever, and a rich black chocolate coat like a Lab. But his eyes were his most memorable feature. One was brown, one was gold. They were always so big and bright and welcoming. Nana used to say that even when they were closed, they were open."

"He sounds like a great dog."

"He was. He loved everyone, especially kids." Andy bit his lip. His eyes were visibly misty, and slightly red. He turned towards the water again, and pressed to body to the railing that separated himself from the bay.

"What happened to him?" Glenn asked softly.

"He got killed in a fight with a coyote," Andy whispered. "He was trying to protect Bethany, my grandmother's newest colt."

"Was she alright?"

Andy nodded solemnly. "He hurt the coyote pretty bad, and sent him bleeding off into the mountains. Nana said she would've gone after him, but instead she chose to stay with George during his last minutes." He dabbed the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. "I always thought he'd pass away an old, arthritic guy, sleeping peacefully on Nana's front porch."

Not really sure how to comfort his friend, Glenn simply gave him a heartfelt pat on the back. He closed his mouth and leaned against the railing, much to his dismay. Although he didn't plan on sharing at the current time, he knew what Andy meant. He, too, had lost a few special friends in his time. As their faces flashed through his mind's eye, it stung him again.

"Daddy!"

The Inspector whipped his head around at the sound of the girl's voice. Pandora's sharp, almost frantic, tone had jolted him from his memories. "What is it? What's wrong?" He searched the crowded streets with his blue eyes, all the while kneeling down to pull his daughter close.

Pandora's lip protruded from her face. "I not likes it hewe," she persisted. Her head shook vigorously from side to side.

Glenn took ahold of the stroller, and wheeled it around in the opposite direction. "Pan," he addressed his niece, "do you know something we don't?" He shared a quick glance with his fellow mortal brother-in-law, and then returned his sights to Pandora.

Pandora peeked around her father's arms, looking down the street. There were cars strewn along the sides of the road, blocked traffic, and hordes of pedestrians in every shape and form. From a visual standpoint, nothing appeared wrong. Everything looked the way San Francisco, Pier 39 in particular, always looked. Quickly, she buried her head into her father's chest. "I wanna go home!"

Andy scooped his daughter into his arms, settling the heavy little girl on his hip. He wasn't fond of picking her up lately, as she was so big now. But it didn't feel right not to, right now. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he knew something must be wrong with her.

"How about Uncle Darryl's?" Andrew suggested brightly. "We were going to go over there anyway, remember? You were going to spend some time at his house while we went to cousin Persia's…" He pursed his lips, trying to find the right way to phrase his next line. "While we took care of your cousin's business at the courthouse, with Uncle Cole."

Pandora bit her lip as she stared over her dad's shoulder, glancing from Glenn to the shade that covered her little sister's stroller. "Okay," she relented quietly.

"That's a good girl," Andy soothed. He kissed her cheek and waved his brother-in-law down the street, stopping at the crosswalk and waiting for signal to go.

As the green street light flashed to yellow, a bulky white van with tinted windows and a cable dish strapped to the roof sped through the intersection, making it under the light just as it changed to a red light. On the side of the van were large dark blue letters which read, 'Channel 8 News'. Unbeknownst to the people outside, they were tearing down the street in the direction of the San Francisco Psychiatric Hospital, hot on the trail of now two murders caused by the revolting mental patients that reside there.

----

Paige frowned as she poked her head out of the bathroom door. "Do I look okay? I mean, business-like?" She stepped out tentatively, and gave her big sister a small turn.

"I don't think Persia will care how you look," Prue confessed. She grabbed a dark blue jacket, the matching piece to the knee length blue skirt her sister was wearing, and handed it to Paige. "As long as you're there."

"I know, I know." Paige slipped the professional looking jacket on over her ivory seamless camisole, and fastened the bottom three buttons. "I just want to look presentable for her."

"You've been in a court house before, Paige."

"Not in years!" The youngest retorted. "Not for anything important, anyway. Not since I worked for South Bay." She headed back into the bathroom and grabbed a brush from the edge of the sink. "What time is it?"

"The trial isn't for another few hours." Prue stuffed her hands into the pockets of her casual, black jeans. Unlike Paige, she'd forced herself to hold off getting ready until right before they had to leave. She knew the guys wouldn't be too happy, but then again, she didn't want to end up getting one of her nicer outfits splattered with demonic goo either.

"Shouldn't Andy and Glenn be back by now?" Paige leaned forward, injecting an pearl earring into her left lobe.

"They took the Phae and Pandora to the Aquarium by the Bay, down at Pier 39. Then they're dropping them off at Darryl's, and they should be back soon."

"What're Piper and Leo doing with Priss?"

"She's already there. Sheila and DJ picked her up this morning, while you were out buying that," Prue indicated the camisole, "but the guys had already left."

"Why didn't Priss just go with them?"

"Do you remember the sneezing fit she had a few days ago?" Upon her sister's nod, Prue continued. "Well, this morning it progressed into coughs and a small fever, so Piper thought it best that she not go out."

Paige frowned. "I hope she's okay." Worry lines creased her face. "Maybe I should call?"

Prue smiled slightly. "You do that. I'm gonna head downstairs and grab something from the fridge." As she stepped out of the bathroom she added, "Do you want anything too?"

Paige shook her head. "Nah, my stomach's doing all kinds of flips right now." Her fingers curled slightly. She didn't want to admit it, but she wasn't sure how she would handle seeing Dane again. It would take every once of self discipline to keep her from attacking the little rat. Or worse.

----

"What're you doing?"

Pearl snorted. "Meditating," she snapped, "what does it look like?"

"It looks like you're rubbing your temples raw." Phiona flopped down on the floor next to her cousin, eyeing her suspiciously. "Is something wrong?"

"What do you think?"

"Geeze you're moody today."

Pearl rolled her eyes, and resumed pressing her fingers to the sides of her head. "Why are you in here, anyway?"

"I was bored." Phiona rolled to her stomach and propped her head up in her hands. "And I wanted to get away from all this tension. If it was any thicker, I'd bet you could actually see it." The light haired witch gazed straight forward, seemingly examining the wall. "I especially feel bad for Persia, I mean…she has to face that guy again." Although the ten-year-old didn't know exactly what had happened to her older cousin, she knew that it scared Persia half to death when ever talk of the trial came up.

Pearl shook her head. "Can you just…stop talking?"

Phiona flinched back, hurt by her cousin's request. They'd always been so close to each other. Always there for each other, no matter what. They could talk about anything and everything. She couldn't understand why Pearl was pushing her away now. "Pearl-"

"Please!"

Phiona blinked back the hurt. "Fine," she replied harshly. "I'll remember this next time you want to talk." With that, she slammed the door so loudly that the room shook, causing a picture of Pearl and Phiona to come crashing down from the wall.

Pearl winced under the sound of the shattering glass. She hadn't meant to be so mean. She hadn't wanted to. But something was bugging her. Maybe even calling to her. Something in her head was crying out, and she thought that by meditating, maybe it would help her to clear her mind. Unfortunately, it had only made things that much worse.

"Agh!" The Blessed One slapped angrily at the sides of her head. "Leave me alone!" Her hand arched, sending a white sphere sailing through the black computer screen that sat atop her desk. Then her brown irises faded to a rich burgundy. Her hands fell limply to her sides, and she walked robotically to the smoking computer.

Even though the screen was completely damaged, and black smoke billowed from the webbed glass, the screen glowed and flickered to life. Amongst the webbing, was a blue background. Upon it, white words began to appear. 'What is your name?'

"Pearl."

'I can help you, Pearl.'

Pearlinda studied the broken screen for a short time, and then nodded her head. "How?"

'I can stop the pain.'

"What do I have to do?" For a long beat, all she saw was the blue screen. And then, in the reflection of the broken glass, she saw a cloud of dark burgundy lights appear. Slowly, she turned around, coming face to face with a curly haired brunette woman.

"Come with me." Michelle Bigelow offered her hand to the child, who accepted it readily. She smiled slightly. It had taken much more than she'd anticipated to begin voiding Pearl's emotions, which was slowly driving the young witch crazy.

It had been the tugging feeling that Pearl had been fighting so desperately; it was her ability to feel leaving her body. Luckily for Michelle, Pearl had turned to meditation, which had completely opened her up to her apathic abilities.

"You'll feel none of it in no time," the apath promised. She tightened her grip around the eleven-year-old's hand, and then summoned her power of apathic orbing. Glowing swarms of burgundy spheres danced around her and her newest victim, before gliding upwards and disappearing through the ceiling.

TO BE CONTINUED….