Chapter 3

Erin opened his eyes, and then he opened his eyes wide. He was standing in a wintry forest of snow-covered conifers, a bright full moon overhead, making the snow glitter as if all the stars of heaven were mirrored in it. In the clearing beyond the cove he was standing in, he could discern a small cottage with smoke rising lazily from the chimney, and candles flickering in the windows. It wasn't quite what he had expected to find, and taking a steadying breath, he started forward, hesitantly heading for the door, when something knocked him over from behind.

The snow was soft and cold as it broke his fall and filled his face. Frightened, he pushed over on his back and found himself staring up into the jaws of a large wolf.

The wolf was staring down at him with amber eyes, and for a moment, Erin feared one of the Winter Queen's white, Snow wolves had caught him. Then he realized that this wolf – although quite big – was smaller, dark gray, and hadn't torn him to shreds; so perhaps not. That insight was only marginally relieving, as the wolf was still standing over him, showing sharp teeth in a faint but unmistakable snarl.

"Don't move!" it growled in a guttural voice and Erin blinked in surprise as he realized that it had spoken.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he croaked meekly, since it seemed wise to agree with anything with sharp teeth that was standing over you.

"Tes!" A voice called. "What are you doing?"

Erin started to look around but froze as the wolf growled again. "I said; 'don't move'!"

"Tes?" The voice had come very close and a blue moon-shadow fell over Erin as the owner of the voice stepped up through the snow. Too afraid to turn his head, the elf glanced up to his left. There were a pair of winter boots, and the boots had legs in them that disappeared up under a thick coat. On top of the coat, there was a head, but a hood was covering it and since the man stood with the moon behind him, his face was lost in black shadows. "Now, what have we got here?"

"We have a gnome," the wolf growled, not taking her eyes off Erin. "A live one."

"Interesting." The man lifted a hand to scratch the stubble on his chin "Technically, that's not possible."

"I'm not a gnome!" Erin objected shakily, too offended to keep quiet. "I'm one of Santa's elves." He tried to draw himself up to his full three feet while lying in the snow.

The man removed the hood to reveal a handsome, if scruffy visage beneath dark, shortcropped hair. A pair of intense blue-green eyes was fixing the elf with keen interest. "An elf?" he said with mild incredulity. "Well, that explains how you can be here, but not why. I didn't know Santa delivered to limbo."

"Shows how much you know then!" Erin scoffed. "I'm Erin, and I already know who you are. You are the one they used to call Belthazor or Cole Turner. Correct?"

"What's left of him," Cole admitted, wondering where this would go. "Then I guess you know why I am here too."

"I do." Erin made to get up, but the wolf made no sign of letting him. "Can I at least sit up?"

Cole nodded once and Tes backed off just enough to let the elf sit. In a huff, Erin slapped the snow from his gray, wooly cap, and brushed it off his beard.

"So, why would a Santa's elf want to come to this godforsaken place? Lost the Christmas spirit?" He grinned.

"As a matter fact; yes," Erin quipped back snappishly. "This will probably surprise you as much as it did me, but I have come for your help. The Winter Queen is about to destroy the Spirit of Christmas. Unless someone, who still believes in the message of Christmas, comes to his aid, Santa won't ride his sleigh on Christmas Night, and then winter will rule the hearts of men for a very long time."

"I know the legend. What has all that got to do with me?"

"This time it's for real. Since I was led here in my search, you are obviously the one I seek."

Cole shrugged non-committaly. "Obviously you have me confused for someone who actually gives a damn." The dry amusement in his eyes faded into a more set look. "If you want to save the world, I recommend you go to the Charmed Ones. They're pretty good at it when they don't get too preoccupied with themselves."

The elf gave him a desperate look. "I have already been to them, but they turned me down."

"There you are then." Unexpectedly, he signaled the wolf to stand down, and turned away. "Come inside if you want to talk." Without stopping to see if the elf would follow, Cole strode through the snow toward the cottage.

Disheartened, but not about to give up, Erin scrambled to his feet and hurried after, closely followed by the wolf, who didn't intend to take her eyes off him.

The insides of the cottage were sparsely furnished. There was an armchair in front of the fireplace, a trestle table, a bookshelf crammed with books, and a bed with a couple of blankets thrown across it. There was no electricity – candles and an oil lamp in the ceiling provided light.

"Sorry for the mess," Cole said, shrugging out of his coat. "I'm the only one who lives here – well, maybe 'live' is stretching it. Point is, I wasn't expecting company." He gestured vaguely and a chair appeared. "Have a seat?"

A bit unnerved, Erin sat down. The wolf curled up in front of the fire to watch him while Cole leaned against the fireplace.

"The snow," the elf said carefully. "It isn't real, is it?"

Cole's eyes narrowed. "What makes you ask?"

"I was full of it, it should have made a wet track inside the door, but my feet are dry and so is the floor and it isn't cold in here."

"You have a sharp eye for details. No, it's not real, and neither is this house or anything in it, but the original setting is rather… drab, so I created my own surroundings." He waved in the general direction of the door. "It gives me something to do. I'd offer you something to drink, but it wouldn't be any more real than anything else here, so…" He shrugged in what could be interpreted as either indifference or apology.

"So the wolf isn't real either?" The elf gave the animal a hopeful look.

"Oh, she's real enough. I happened to find her half dead in a different plane. I brought her with me to heal, and now she doesn't want to leave."

"But she speaks."

"So do you," Tes said sharply.

"Um, yes… Good point, good point."

"So tell me," Cole said, saving Erin to find a way out of an uncomfortable silence. "What did you do to make the Charmed Ones decline an opportunity to rid the world of evil?"

"I didn't do anything. I just appeared and told the witch called Piper she must help…"

"Excuse me?" Cole gave him a look of incredulity. "You dropped in unannounced on Piper and told her she must help you? No wonder she threw you out. Even I know better than that," he chuckled.

Erin shifted on his chair. "It's their duty to…"

"Their duty?" The chuckle turned into laughter. "Oh, I do hope you didn't lay that one on her." Then his temper switched suddenly, and grew impatient instead. "If you're looking for someone to help you persuade the Charmed Ones, you've come to the wrong place. They'd have to be near death before they'd listen to me – literally."

"Death may well be the case, unless you come with me," the elf stated gravely. "The Winter Queen will make sure they don't interfere with her plans. She has already put them under a spell to chill their hearts."

"Assuming for a moment that I wanted to help you, I don't see how. I'm stuck in limbo, in case you haven't noticed," Cole sneered. "If I'm your best bet, you're in serious trouble. What am I supposed to do? 'Scrooge' the Charmed Ones? Actually," he smirked. "I would be an excellent Marley."

"A tortured spirit, fettered by his sins? Seems to me you are dragging around more guilt than you can be held accountable of."

Shoulders sagging, Cole slumped down in the armchair to stare at the flickering flames in the fireplace. "I've done nothing but evil in my life. Why do you think I am here?" He scoffed a little and a bitter grimace distorted his face. "Even when I tried doing something good it ended up bad." On the armrests, his hands balled into fists. "Bottom line? Go back to the North Pole! I stopped saving their ass when I was stuck in this limbo."

"But not their hearts, I believe?" Grinning, the elf gave him a knowing look. "Being here didn't stop you from saving Phoebe from a fate worse than death, did it? Saved her sister and brother-in-law in the process too, I believe."

Cole snapped up his head. "How can you know about that?" he asked sharply. "What did Piper tell you?"

"Nothing. She didn't have to. All acts of true love are known to the Spirit of Christmas." Chuckling at Cole's askance look, Erin picked up a familiar tune. "'…he's writing a list, checking it twice, he's gonna find out who's naughty or nice…' Humans are not altogether wrong about that part, you know. And what Santa knows, his elves know." Ignoring Tes' watchful eye, Erin jumped out of the chair, and walked over to the bookshelf to pick up a framed photograph. "I know what you did for the sake of love, how much you sacrificed – repeatedly – to keep Phoebe safe. Even when The Source had full possession of you, even when all was lost to you, you still managed acts of true love." He thumbed the picture thoughtfully, and held it up to Cole. "If saving Christmas isn't in your interest, maybe saving your love is."

Slowly, Cole reached out to take the picture of a smiling Phoebe, from the elf, and gazed silently at it, a finger gently tracing the outline of her face.

Phoebe…

"Loving Phoebe was the one good thing I ever did in my life," he whispered.

Erin nodded. "Sometimes one thing is enough."

"Enough for what?" With an irritated gesture, he put the picture down. "Being trapped in limbo?"

The elf winked. "Enough for a wish."

Paige shivered and tried to buffet her arms to her sides to keep warm in the freezing cold wind.

Phoebe had told her all about how Time's Square was bright as Heaven with all kinds of Christmas decorations, but she had neglected to tell her that it was also cold as hell. And, stupid, stupid, she had totally neglected to take into account that New York wasn't San Francisco, and forgotten to bring really warm clothes.

Then again; Billie had promised to pick her up at 5 p.m. sharp, and she had been here since 4.45. Paige glanced up at the clock on top of the building next to her. It said 6.15 p.m.. "I'm sure we agreed on the 23:rd," she muttered and tried jumping up and down to stomp some feeling into her toes.

A good guess would have it that Billie had been held up in traffic, but why didn't she call? She could always try to orb to her, but with all these people around, magic was liable to be exposed. Not that anyone paid her much attention. They just hurried past her in a rush for getting all their errands done before Christmas. She had tried to stop a couple to ask for directions to a nearby coffee shop or something, but they had just stared at her and hurried on.

Oh, well, she thought. Once Billie did arrive, they would have lots of fun. She hadn't told Piper or Phoebe anything, but truth to tell, she felt that a family Christmas wasn't on the top of her list this year. Sure, it was fun with the kids, but going out to party was more fun – and if the Big Apple wasn't the place to party, then what would be? Besides, she had seen too many disastrous 'family' Christmases back when she worked with the Social Services. How many times hadn't she been called in during the Christmas holidays, when the cops had taken kids into custody, because their parents – if present at all – were wasted on booze or drugs, or both? Sometimes they were beaten up, sometimes worse… Paige shivered again, but not from the cold. If there was anything worse than child abuse, it would be child abuse on Christmas Eve.

No, after the magnificent failure to throw a party for the Orphanage, she was quite happy to be out of the San Francisco Christmas spirit this year. And if Billie would just come now, she wouldn't have to be so annoyed with the New York Christmas spirit either.

"Paige Matthews?" a hoarse voice called behind her.

"Yes?" Turning around, she saw that it came from a Yellow Cab that had pulled up by the curb. "How do you know my name?"

The cab driver grinned. "I don't. But a Billie Jenkins asked me to drive here and look for, and I quote; 'a pale, young woman, with dark hair, a suitcase, and not enough clothes for New York in December.' You fit the bill, sweetheart."

Paige hesitated, but only for a second. After all, only Billie knew she would be here, and the cab driver looked like any other Greek cab driver she had ever seen. Besides, standing out here in the cold could prove more dangerous to her health. If he tried anything, she could always use a little magic. Bold by decision, Paige stepped up to the cab and grabbed the back door handle. "Assuming Billie didn't just want you to look for me, can I get in? Because I've almost frozen my butt off, waiting for her."

"Hop in, sweetheart!" He gestured with his thumb, and Paige gratefully stepped inside, hauling her suitcase with her. "I am supposed to inform you that your friend has been held up, and that I'm to drive you to your hotel. Okay?" Not waiting for an answer, he shifted the gear into 'drive' and slid back into the steady stream of traffic.

"I suppose." Paige rubbed her hands to get some warmth back into them. "I just thought I was to stay with her."

"Yeah, see I wouldn't know anything about that, but by the sound of it, she had a full house already. Anyway, she said she would meet you tomorrow morning."

"Oh, okay…" Feeling a little robbed of her expectations, Paige told herself that this was so typical for a girl Billie's age. Most likely, she had a party with friends who had just dropped by, but it still hurt a bit that she wasn't invited. "I still don't understand why she didn't call me," she complained. "I've been waiting for over an hour."

"Is your cell phone on?" the cabby asked innocently. "Because she mentioned she couldn't reach you."

"Of course it is!" Paige pulled it out of her pocket to prove it, and remembered as she did that the cell sometimes switched itself off when she orbed longer distances. "Oh, no…" she sighed.

The cab driver grinned in the rear view mirror. "There you have it then, ma'am."

"So what do I do now? I mean I don't know anyone here, or where to go. We were supposed to have dinner and she would show me around town."

"Well, I can tell you of a couple of good restaurants, show you the sights, if…" he winked "…you hire me for the ride."

"If you can take me to a good place to eat, I'll even buy you a dinner," Paige laughed, happy to at last have found a person in possession of some kind of Christmas spirit. "The hotel can wait. I'm starving."

"Okay, a restaurant it is then. Just sit back, ma'am, it will be a while in this traffic, but I'll take you there safely."

"Thank you." Satisfied with the way she was handling herself in New York, Paige leaned back against the soft seat and let the many lights pass her by. The cab was cozy and warm, and soon she was feeling drowsy. 'I'll just close my eyes five minutes', she thought. 'Not go to sleep or anything. Just rest before dinner.'

The driver glanced in his rear view mirror and smiled as Paige's head lolled to the side. "Sweet dreams, ma'am," he said. "I'll be sure to wake you up when we get there."

Piper looked around and was rather pleased. P3 was void of anything even remotely Christmas; the party that hired it would be pleased. Part of her did miss the decorations – Phoebe had put so much effort into it – but at the same time it was liberating to be free of them. No pressure, no expectations of how a Christmas should be.

She sent a guilty thought to the tree at home, still undecorated, and to Leo and her sons. She would miss them very much, but they were probably having the time of their lives and this party would bring in so much money, maybe she could keep the club closed for a couple of days after, and go up to be with them.

There was a knock on the door, and Piper wiped her hands quickly and went up the stairs to let the man, who had been her contact, inside for inspection.

Outside the door a well-dressed, elderly gentleman stood, holding a silver-knobbed cane. His dark gray suit was most certainly from Armani, and went extremely well with his graying hair and clear, blue eyes. His entire appearance was such, that Piper felt like she was in the presence of some benevolent and wealthy benefactor.

The moment she opened the door he swept off his hat, bowed and kissed her hand. "Mrs. Halliwell, I presume?" he said and smiled pleasantly.

Completely charmed, Piper couldn't help but smile back. "You must be Mr. Cherrytree then. Welcome to P3. Please, come in."

"Thank you." Supporting himself heavily on his cane as his left leg seemed to drag a bit, he made his way down the staircase, with Piper following behind. Halfway down he stopped to catch his breath.

"Are you okay, Mr. Cherrytree?"

"Yes, yes, thank you. It's just my leg. I like to tell people it's a war wound, but truth is it's not half as heroic." He rubbed his thigh a little. "I was run down by a young man on a motorbike." Before he continued his ascent into the club, he took a quick survey from the stairs.. "Aahh, I like what you have done here, Mrs. Halliwell. It's a wintry decoration, but nothing that says 'Christmas'."

"Thank you. I've arranged for sushi and sashimi, as well as the canapés, as you required, but I couldn't get a band on such short notice. I do have a great selection of jazz music on CD though, that you might want to check out."

While she showed Mr. Cherrytree the arrangements, Piper got increasingly more comfortable in his company. He didn't just listen to her – he paid attention. He asked relevant questions, expressed gratitude for her efforts, and showed sincere appreciation for her work, all of which made her feel generally good about herself. After a while, she felt like she was talking to a dear uncle.

"Well, this has been most reassuring," Mr. Cherrytree eventually said, putting his gloves and hat back on. "I must go now, but you've done an excellent job, Mrs. Halliwell. I am confident this non-Christmas party will be our best ever."

"We aim to please." Piper smiled. "Can I ask you something, Mr. Cherrytree?"

"You want to know why we are doing this?" He smiled and winked. "Don't look embarrassed! I am quite used to getting that question. You see, we are so tired of the concept. The entire thing is nothing but a big reason for the stores to make more money, and the so-called charity organizations to beg for extra donations. People become obsessed with buying things no one wants anyway, visiting relatives you can't stand, and getting worked out for what? It's all humbug if you ask me."

To her own surprise, Piper found that she couldn't quite argue with him. "I can't say that I share your point of view entirely," she managed as she followed him to the stairs. "But you certainly have a point."

"I know I do." Waving his cane to underline his statement, Mr. Cherrytree started up the stairs, but without the extra support, his foot didn't quite get all the way up and the toe snagged on the edge of the first step. As he flailed to catch his balance, the cane swung back in an arc. Before Piper could react to either freeze or duck, the hard wood hit her across the temple, and she collapsed to the floor.

"Oh, dear!" Mr. Cherrytree, exclaimed, kneeling by her side. "I am so sorry, Mrs. Halliwell. Are you alright?"

Blurry eyed and dizzy, Piper tried to sit up. "My head…" she groaned, gingerly touching the sore spot, and noted the blood on her fingers. "I… I don't think so."

Mr. Cherrytree helped her to a chair. "That was a nasty blow I gave you. I am terribly sorry. Can I drive you to the nearest hospital?"

"Hosp… No, thank you, I'll be fine if I just get home." And can call Paige to heal me, she thought.

"But you can't drive in your condition," the contrite gentleman objected.

"I'll be fine in a cab."

"No, absolutely out of the question. I have a Bentley with a driver outside. If you don't want to go to a hospital, I insist on driving you home, Mrs. Halliwell. It's the least I can do."

Her head hurting too much to get into an argument, Piper succumbed to the idea of riding a luxurious car rather than a cab through the Christmas traffic stockings. A call on his cell phone, and Mr. Cherrytree's chauffeur came to help them both up the stairs, and into the car.

It was a very nice car indeed. Piper was laid out in her back on the skin-clad back seat, while the two men took the front seat, and soon the Bentley rolled softly through the streets of San Francisco. The purring engine, and the flickering lights through the windows made her sleepy, and she closed her eyes to shut them out. Drowsily, she reflected that she shouldn't fall asleep in case she had a concussion, but she just couldn't seem to open her eyes again.

Almost asleep, it occurred to Piper that they didn't know where she lived. But she was too dizzy to react on that thought, and then she drifted into sleep.