CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The rest of the night went by in what passed for peace at our house, at least for us sisters. Rori's family, apparently, was another story. Sylvia and James took my room while I bunked with Paige, but I don't think either of them slept. Late in the night, when I decided to head downstairs to find a nice couch where my dear sister couldn't hog the middle, I passed their room. And while there was no light coming from under the door, there was a sound of rapid-fire whispering that indicated an argument kept down to avoid waking anyone.

They were what woke me from the couch in the conservatory the next morning. I heard the front door creak open, and had just stood to see what was going on when Sylvia's voice came from the stairs.

"James," she called softly.

I saw him stop in the doorway, bow his head, and then turn toward her.

As she came near him, Sylvia glanced into the living room where Rori was sleeping, then stood silently facing James.

"Tell her I'll call when I get there," James said without looking at his wife. "And I'll call before we head out to the site, and if we find anything."

When she only nodded, he sighed and frowned as though he wasn't saying what he wanted to say. Then she touched his arm, and he finally looked at her, and that tough British stoicism that he'd apparently picked up over there along with traces of an accent started to melt away. "I do love you."

Sylvia smiled, though she seemed to be fighting back tears. "I know." She rubbed her hand up on his arm and naturally gravitated to give him a kiss. "Take care of yourself."

He cupped her face in his hand for a moment longer, and then he was gone. Sylvia stood with her hand on the door for a couple of seconds, then turned to see me standing like an insensitive idiot in the conservatoryr. But she only gave me a half-hearted "I'll be okay" smile, and walked passed me toward the kitchen.

And after reading Rori's diary, it looks like those two weren't the only ones to spend a sleepless night and see a gloomy morning. We didn't know it at the time, but Rori had wrestled with some confusing problems of her own. I'll let her tell about it:

Mom and Dad are at it again. They haven't really said anything, since we're guests, but I can tell by the looks they give each other. I hate it when this stuff happens. Why did that thing have to wait to attack until Dad was back home, and excited that he's getting closer to proving Atlantis was real, and generally on top of the world? He always freaks out when demons attack. I hate this. I have to think of something else.

Here's something good. Can you keep a secret? I met the perfect man today. Well, okay, he's not technically a man, he's a Whitelighter, but still, perfect. His name is Chris. I didn't get his last name. I need to get his last name. Do Whitelighters even have last names? We just know ours as George. Anyway, this new guy is an absolute hottie. I mean, hot like, well, I don't know what, but hot enough that I must find a way to keep him from going outside very much. Way too hot for other women to lay eyes on. It's a wonder the Halliwells haven't tried something with him. That one sister, Phoebe, I think actually did try something tonight, but he didn't go for her. I bet she's a slut.

Me here for a second, nephew mine. I try to keep in mind that sixteen is a very confusing age, so I can forgive Rori for that. Sorta. Back to her.

Anyway, I want to know more about him. Piper said he's from the future, but he won't say anything about it, or about himself, which is very frustrating when you're checking a guy out. So I have a plan. I helped Piper with the dishes tonight, partially so I could see if I could figure out how I'm supposed to help her--zilch on that front--and partially so I could clear the table. While picking up the silverware, I slipped Chris's spoon in my pocket. I know, I know, pretty gross, but it's the only thing around here that I know for sure that he's touched, and, well, a gal's gotta to do what a gal's gotta do. I'm gonna try to force a retro off of it. I'm getting better at calling them, so maybe it will work.

Okay, you know what? Scratch everything I just said. He may be hot, but he's a liar, a freaking liar. How do I know, you ask? I got my retro all right. And he lied. No, he didn't say anything, but that's the point. It's a lie of omission, and what an omission! I swear, I'm going to really tear into him him tomorrow.

That's not exactly what she did. Here's the next day's entry:

So I was over-emotional last night. It's that time; I'm entitled.

This morning wasn't much better, actually. Dad went back to England without even saying good-bye. That didn't help anything. And I waited around all morning for Chris to show up at the Manor, since Piper said he usually does to give them some new demon to vanquish. But he never came. I was so pissedd-off that I finally just asked Piper if I could borrow her SUV, and of course, her being all freaky happy, she said okay.

The keys to her club were with her car keys, which was just fine with me. That way I could just walk right in and tell Chris off, and he wouldn't have much choice but to listen. At least, that's what went through my head, since I didn't stop to think that he could orb out on me anytime he wanted. He didn't orb out, though, when I went down the stairs and yelled out his name before I saw him sitting at the bar. Just sitting, not drinking, not doing anything, but just sitting.

I didn't realize then that he must have been thinking a lot about what had happened last night and wouldn't have cared it I did. I stomped up to him, glared at him and glared at him for a couple minutes, trying to find the right words to let him know what I thought of him.

"What is it?" he finally asked..

"You wanted us to die last night!"