Chapter 7

Slowly, sleep let go its grip on Phoebe.

Bit by bit, she became aware of a bed, the gray light of an overcast winter sky, and – finally – herself. Immediately, she wished she hadn't woke up.

Her head felt like a bulldozer was trying to find its way through her brain; her tongue was like a sponge dipped in gall, and her entire body felt like a rag someone had wrung every drop from. "Shit," she slurred, and tried ever so carefully to open her eyes; groaning at the weak light. Fumbling for her alarm clock, she found it and noted the time to 10.45 a.m. "Oh, God, Elyse will kill me," she muttered and forced herself to sit up. Her head spun a bit, but she found that if she didn't move too fast, it wasn't that bad. "What the hell did I do last night?" What day was it anyway?

She couldn't even remember coming home, much less going to bed. Forehead wrinkling up, she tried to recall anything from the previous day. She must have gone to work, and… No, wait a minute! She hadn't gone to work, because she had been invited to do a big show in Hollywood. Yes, she remembered stepping on that plane, and the amazing hotel room, but everything after that was a blur. "How did I get back home?" she wondered muzzily, rubbing her temples.

Maybe it was all a dream? She did recall having a really weird dream. There was a lot of anger and tears involved, and… Cole. It wouldn't be the first time she dreamt about him – although it was over a year now since the last occasion – but most of the times, it was just dreams. Then there were times, like this time, when he was so… present; as if he actually had been there with her. Suddenly a bit apprehensive, Phoebe gave her room a furtive glance, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen, and with a sigh she forced herself out of bed, found a morning robe, and staggered out to the bathroom.

Avoiding looking in the mirror, Phoebe tied back her hair, splashed a lot of cold water on her face, and rinsed her mouth. Feeling a little more awake, she stumbled back out in search of some answers.

"Piper?"

There was no reply. In fact, the entire house felt eerily quiet and abandoned. Gingerly, she made her way downstairs into the kitchen, hoping that her sister had left a note or something, but there was nothing except for a pot of coffee and a glass containing something that didn't look too appetizing. The glass did come with a note, though. 'Drink me!' it said.

Grimacing, Phoebe picked it up. "Who am I? Alice in Wonderland?" But Piper usually knew what she was doing, so she gulped it down, grimaced some more and took herself rapidly to the sink as her empty stomach objected violently to the surprise attack from above. Against all odds, she managed to keep it down, and slowly inched her way over to the coffee pot to pour a cup of black coffee, which seemed to go down a lot easier than Piper's concoction.

Amazingly enough, she felt a little clearer after only five minutes, and since the headache was dissipating, she picked up her cup and decided to go sit in the sunroom until she was feeling good enough to find out what was really going on. "This better not be a time loop or something," she muttered with address to whoever had made sure for the past eight years that these weird things happened to them.

Still a bit unsteady, she shuffled her way into the sunroom – and stopped dead in her tracks; eyes growing wide, mouth opening. The sound of her coffee mug crashing to the floor was a loud explosion in the breathless silence.

Bewildered beyond belief, she stared at the man, who regarded her silently from the whicker chair by the French windows. He was dressed in jeans, a sheepskin lined leather jacket and a charcoal black turtleneck. "Whoa…wha…wha…?" she stammered, completely shell-shocked. Backing a couple of steps, she stumbled over her own feet and fell to the floor, her eyes never leaving the all too familiar face. "This can't be happening…" she gasped, backpedaling on all four until her back slammed into the nearby wall, bringing her up short.

"Merry Christmas," Cole said, an uncertain smile skittering across his lips.

"No-no-no …You're dead!" she finally managed; a shaky finger pointing in is direction. "Yo-you're supposed to be gone forever. You can't be here… Who the hell are you?"

A shade of pain moved across his handsome visage. "It's me, Phoebe," he said quietly.

"No!" She shook her head in utter denial. "It can't be you. You're dead and this is a very bad case of…of delirium tremens." Except that she had never sobered up this fast in her life, ever. Swallowing hard, she pressed back against the wall.

His elbows were on the armrests, his hands resting lightly in his lap. He ached to do something with them, but forced himself to remain still. "I'm afraid neither is correct," he said, more certain than ever that this was the wrong way. "Look, Phoebe, I realize this comes as a shock to you, and I'm not wild about this myself, but I swear I'm not here to hurt you. We need to talk…"

"Talk?" she mouthed blankly, and paled a little, wondering for a moment if the Demon of Fear had returned and overheard her conversation with Piper up in the attic the other night. Then her brain got back into gear and with her back still pressed against the wall, she surged to her feet. "Oh, no," she breathed, anger brewing. "We don't need to do anything. You need to disappear. I don't know how you managed this, and I don't care – just get the hell out of here!"

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, bracing for the storm he knew would come.

Except it wasn't a storm; it was a size four hurricane.

"You evil bastard!" Phoebe yelled in rage. "Get out of my house! How dare you come back after everything you've done? How dare you? You're dead! Why can't you just stay dead? What in the concept of dead is so lost on you? You're a walking nightmare! Damn it, Cole! I was doing fine. Why did you have to come back? You can't have me! I don't want you! Can't you get it through your thick scull that I… Aaaarrgghh!" Screaming out her frustration, she waved her hands at him. "Just go back to hell, and stay there!"

"I will go," Cole promised calmly, biting back the pain her outburst caused him. "But not before we have talked – and listened."

Phoebe ogled him. "What in what I just said did you fail to understand? Let me spell it out for you! I - Don't - Want - You - Here!"

"Maybe not," he said flatly. "But you need me."

"Need you?" Phoebe let go a near hysterical laugh. "I need you like I need this hang-over. You're the last thing I need in my life."

You may be more right about that than you think.

"Fine." He made to rise. "Save your sisters on your own then. Oh, and you have to be quick about it, or none of you will live to see Christmas Day."

"I don't care about Christm…What?" Phoebe's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Wait, what did you just say?" Slowly, she inched closer to him. "What was that about my sisters?"

Folding his arms, Cole leaned forward a bit. "I thought you didn't need me for anything, so figure it out yourself."

Phoebe's fist came at him with surprising speed, but for once he had anticipated it, and caught her wrist before she could hit him.

"Let go!" She hissed like an angry cat, trying to pull free, but he was holding her arm in a steady grip. "What have you done to Piper and Paige?"

"Me? Nothing." He held on to her arm and while he felt the resistance in her muscles, she had stopped tugging. "But if you say 'please' I might tell you who has."

"Bastard!" she spat, tugging her arm again, but with less force. She had ended up standing much closer to him than she wanted. The warmth and scent of his body, towering over her, was unavoidable this close. The proximity made her angry; angry with him for having the gall to stand there, looking so damn good, and angry with herself for even thinking about his looks. Or his eyes…

There just was something very special about his eyes that always captured her. They were blue-green and intense, always looking right at her, into her, drawing her in; making her breath catch in her throat, and her heart beat a bit faster.

Involuntarily, Phoebe took a step forward. She was so close, the edge of his jacket brushed lightly against her; so close she could feel his breath on her defiantly upturned face.

"Let me go," she breathed shakily, unable to look away from his eyes.

I wish I could…

"I'm not holding you."

The grip on her wrist was indeed quite loose. Still, it was a second before she pulled out of it. Knowing by the glint in his eye that he had noticed, she quickly took a step back; her hand sliding free. Eyes lingering on him a little longer, she held her arm close to her body, confusing feelings warring inside her. "Why are you here?" she repeated, her voice set just above a whisper; adding almost inaudibly: "Please?"

Cole had folded his arms again, his left hand briefly touching his chin in a thoughtful gesture. Then he slowly swung around, and stepped behind the chair as if to keep it between them. "I'm here to help you, Phoebe. Nothing else. Please, believe that."

She shook her head. "But how? Paige told us you were…"

"Vanquished? Gone for good?" His lips tightened briefly into a hard line. "I thought so too, but here I am and we don't have time for twenty questions."

"Then make time, because I want to know if you've collected a lot of demonic powers from the Wasteland again, before I even consider believing anything you say."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case, how will you believe me when I answer that question?"

"Don't start with me, Cole! Do you have powers or not?"

"Very well." He straightened up a bit. "Yes, I have some powers. No, I have not collected them in the Wasteland. I didn't even intend to come here, but I was sent by the same elf that asked for your help."

Phoebe opened her mouth to argue about powers, when she realized something else. "Wait a minute. What elf?"

Now it was Cole's turn to look surprised. "Piper didn't tell you?"

Piper keeps a lot of secrets from you, doesn't she?

"No. When would that have happened?"

"He didn't say. But I was sent here yesterday, so anytime just before that, I guess."

"Yesterday…" Suddenly, she recalled that the last thing she remembered was being in Hollywood. "What day is it today?"

"Christmas Eve, and that's why we…"

"It was you!" she burst out. "You abducted me from the hotel. What sick, twisted plan…? Oh, my God, the show! I have to go back. Take me back this instant!"

"What show?"

"The one I was invited to be in! They are rehearsing today, and if I don't get there… I have to call them!" Turning away, she rushed over to phone in the foyer.

Cole caught up with her as she nervously waited for someone to pick up on the other end. After a while, she put the receiver down to try another number.

"I don't understand," she muttered. "I just get a message that there is no such number." Spotting her purse in the hallway, she hurried up to it, found her cell phone to check the numbers, and tried again – with the same result. "I don't understand. Cole, you have to get me back!"

"I'm sorry, Phoebe, but there never was an invitation for you."

"But the show!" She scooted into the living room to snatch up the TV-guide, and held it up for him to see. "Look!"

Taking the magazine from her, he put it back down. "But they didn't invite you, Phoebe. It was a clever scam."

"But the flight tickets and the hotel… the party." She hesitated and blinked as parts of last evening were coming back to her. "Enrico…" Pushing up her sleeve, she stared at the Band-Aid in the bend of her arm. She had been too hung over to wonder about it in the bathroom, but now she was able to piece things together. "The bastard tried to drug me! Where is he? I'm going to vanquish his sorry ass from here to eternity!" Suddenly, the fire was back; flashing in her dark eyes.

"I'm afraid that's been taken care of already." Unsure how she would react to that; he swallowed a little.

Phoebe swung around to give him a penetrating stare. When she spoke again, her voice was oddly calm. "You killed him." It was a statement, not a question.

"He was a warlock, Phoebe. I had no choice…he was…"

Phoebe held up a hand to stop him. "I know… It's… okay, Cole." She wrapped her arms around her. "I… I don't remember much. It must've been something in the Champagne… I got all dizzy, and then he…" She bit her lip and Cole held his breath as she frowned and tried to recall the events. "The rest is just a blur," she finally said, shaking her head. Then she looked up at him again, her eyes more questioning this time. "Then you…?"

He nodded, looking both pleased with himself and oddly embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I guess it's become a bad habit…"

"…to save me? You do have a bad habit of doing that, don't you?" For the first time, there was a ghost of a smile on her face. "Mr. Turner, we have got to stop meeting this way." Wagging a finger at him, she let go an ever so faint laugh, not much more than a smile really, but he treasured it in his memory already.

Then her smile faded, and rubbing her forehead she heaved a sigh instead. "I've been such an idiot. I should have known a big Christmas show was too good to be true, but they made it sound so… legit, and I so wanted to go…"

"I'm sorry, Phoebe," he offered softly, aching to put his arms around her, but even though she was standing no more than six feet from him, she was still miles away. "It was a very clever plan to separate you from each other, to pick you up one by one."

"No. I don't believe you. I can't believe you." Phoebe shook her head. "Paige is in New York with Billie. She talked to Billie." Flipping her cell open again, she started to dial. "I'll call her right now to prove it."

"She's not there." Leaving her to convince herself, he sauntered over to lean against a doorpost.

Several rings went through before a sleepy voice answered in the other end and Phoebe threw him a victorious glance. "Billie?! It's Phoebe. Thank God, you're there. Get Paige on the phone!"

"Don't shout. God, my head… What was that about Paige?"

"I need to talk to her, like right now."

"Then why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is?"

"It's three hours later than here, so wake up already! Is Paige there? Please tell me you picked her up alright yesterday."

"Okay, I don't get this. Where and when was I supposed to pick her up? You could've called and warned me, because I don't remember anyone telling me she was coming to New York."

Breathless, Phoebe blinked at the phone. "She's not there? So you never invited any of us to spend Christmas with you?"

"No. This is some joke, right?"

"Yeah, right…a very bad one too. Merry Christmas, Billie. I'll talk to you later." Staring emptily in front of her, Phoebe disconnected. "Billie never called her."

"I told you. The warlocks…"

"I'll call Piper." Near frantic, because deep inside she knew he was right, she flipped up her cell phone again and pressed the speed dial for Piper's cell. "Pick up, Piper, pick up! Pick up!" But all she got was an automatic reply. "I don't understand! She was here this morning. She made me…" Noting his look, she checked herself. "Piper hasn't been here at all, has she?"

"Not since yesterday, no."

It dawned on her then that her weird dream wasn't really a dream, and a sense of vertigo made her slightly nauseous. "That was you?" As he nodded, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "Okay, I am just going to assume that nothing happened here tonight…" She glanced over at him to find his expression annoyingly unreadable, which annoyed her even more because she knew her accusation had hurt him, and for some reason that didn't sit well with her. Then a new, horrifying thought struck her. "Leo and the boys!" she gasped. "Please, tell me that if I dial their number, they will pick up. Please, tell me they're not held by warlocks!"

"They're perfectly safe," he assured her after a moment's hesitation. "For now."

"I know that look, Cole. What is it you're not telling me?"

"The warlocks are looking for them."

Phoebe gave him one look, and then she started to dial; only to find her cell phone disappear and turn up in Cole's hand. "Damn it, Cole! Give it back to me! We have to warn them – we have to get them out!"

With a self-conscious look, he put her phone down on a nearby table. "No. We can't warn them."

"Are you…? Why not?"

"Because we want them to stay where they are, so the warlocks can find them." He winced as Phoebe started to back away from him with a wary, almost frightened look in her eyes. "Just hear me out, Phoebe! The warlocks will not attempt to move, or even disturb them once they do find them. If Wyatt is pushed into using his orbing powers, they might find themselves having to search for them all over again, and they don't have time for that. So they will watch and wait – maybe trying to get close by impersonating someone familiar, but they will leave them unharmed as long as they can."

"Well, that makes it alright then!" Phoebe snapped with sarcasm dripping from the words; her wary look unchanged. "How can you be so sure?"

"I know how they work – and right now they are working to our advantage."

"How?"

"We will know exactly where to find them. When we go there, we can take out a lot of opposition in one go."

With a set look, Phoebe paced a turn. She couldn't deny that he actually made sense. Lacking the energy to yell at him, she settled for giving him a tired stare. "I swear, Cole…if you have anything to do with this…"

"We wouldn't have this conversation if I did."

"We shouldn't be having any conversation." Rubbing her forehead again, Phoebe walked past him into the living room. "I can't believe this is happening."

"If it's any consolation, neither can I," he offered to her back. "But we're here, Phoebe, and we need to deal with it."

"I don't want to deal with this," she burst out. Wrapping her slender arms around her body, she slowly turned around to face him, her dark eyes betraying an inner pain. "I don't want to deal with you – not again. I just…can't."

He almost reached out to touch her, but refrained. Phoebe was too fragile right now; she could barely receive information from him. A touch would send her spinning. "I'm not asking you to," he said softly. "But you need to deal with how you're going to save your sisters, so you can save Christmas."

"Okay, stop right there! When you say 'save Christmas', you don't mean just the family dinner, do you?"

"No. You actually need to save Christmas. You and your sisters."

Phoebe gave him a look full of doubt. "And you were sent here to help me?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Yeah, well, for all I know, you could be setting me up – again."

Hiding the sting of guilt, Cole gave her a slanted smile. "I do have the sense to learn from my mistakes. I mean, trying to deceive you, lie to you, worked, oh so well, in the past. Besides, if I wanted to harm you, I would have done so last night."

"Cole…"

"Oh, come on, Phoebe! Give me a little credit here! If I wanted to trick you into something, wouldn't I be offering something less life-threatening?"

Her determination wavering, but still unconvinced, Phoebe gave him a furtive look from below. "I wish I could say that question didn't come with a multiple-choice answer," she muttered, but apparently decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "So what exactly are we supposed to save Christmas from?"

"Ever heard the legend of the Winter Queen and the Holly King?"

"Is that the one about how the Holly King must surrender to the Winter Queen, but as long as there's one single person believing in him, she must let him go?"

"In the version adjusted for children, yes." He pushed away from the doorpost and followed her into the room, keeping a certain distance between them. "In reality, the Winter Queen is a sort of ancient evil who belongs to the world of Faërie, just like trolls and other magical creatures. Her entire purpose is to destroy the one thing that keeps her from ruling the world; namely the Holly King, which is just an ancient name for…"

"The Spirit of Christmas," Phoebe realized.

"Correct. And unless you stop her before midnight tonight, she will succeed this time."

Phoebe brightened up a bit. "Well, if believing in Santa is all it takes, it shouldn't be too hard. I've even met him. What do I have to do? Click my heels three times and say: 'I do believe in Santa'?"

"Ah, see, that's the part I referred to when I said it was adjusted for children. It's not the Spirit of Christmas you must believe in, but the Christmas spirit." Seeing her consternated look, he tried to clarify. "It takes some kind of sacrifice, made in true Christmas spirit, to set him free."

Phoebe's eyes narrowed. "Is this another one of those stupid rules made up by Elders and Demons?"

Hands shoved into his pockets, Cole shrugged. "I believe it was sort of a deal breaker."

Rolling up her eyes in disgust, Phoebe raised her arms in a silent plea for sanity. "Wasn't there anyone with some common sense, around?" Off his look, she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "Never mind! Just tell me how a tiny fairy can capture the Spirit of Christmas."

Clearing his throat, Cole fought back his smile at the thought of the Winter Queen as something akin to a butterfly with an attitude. "Not 'fairy'," he corrected. "Faërie. There's nothing tiny about the Winter Queen – especially not her ego. And believe me; she has enough power to make the world a very dark and cold place."

"What else is new?" With a scoff on her lips, Phoebe turned away from him again, walking further into the room to stare out the window. Outside, thick, cold mists were rolling in from the Ocean, obscuring the sun. "So what you're telling me is that the Charmed Ones are needed to save the Spirit of Christmas?"

"Basically, yes."

"And an elf was here talking to Piper about it, and when she turned him down, he went to you?"

Cole decided to ignore the way she said that. After all, he didn't understand the logic behind that choice either. "That's what he told me."

"Uh-huh." Phoebe gave him a brooding look over her shoulder. "See, this is what I have a problem with. Piper hasn't mentioned any of this. Why would she turn down a plea for help without even talking to us, her sisters, about it?"

"Because the Winter Queen created a very powerful spell, making everyone insensitive to the Christmas spirit, to ensure no one would come to his aid. It affected the three of you as well, which is why the warlocks could divide and conquer like they did."

"That I can actually believe," Phoebe admitted ruefully, folding her arms in front of her again. "So we need to vanquish a couple of warlocks; place Leo, dad and the boys somewhere safe; come up with a plan on how to find my sisters, and rescue first them and then Christmas in less than 12 hours?"

"Finding your sisters is not a problem. The Winter Queen holds them in her castle at the North Pole."

Phoebe gave him a look that was both dubious and exasperated. "Didn't you say warlocks took them?"

"Yes, but the Queen has struck a deal with them to bring you to her. A deal they're not going to honor, by the way."

"Oh, my God," Phoebe gasped, pressing both hands to her mouth. "They're going to kill Piper and Paige."

"No, they won't. They all need you for some kind of spell, and they need all three of you to make it work, so your sisters are actually quite safe for the moment."

"How can you be so sure about that? How do you know…?" Realizing something, she broke off abruptly. "You've been there, haven't you?" Seeing his flustered look, Phoebe almost threw another fit. "How could you leave my sisters behind?"

"I meant to get them out, but found it was safer this way for all of you."

"Some things just never change!" She glared up at him. "You just had to go off on your own, didn't you?"

Cole took a deep breath. Some things indeed never changed. "You weren't exactly available for consultation," he reminded her, patience wearing thin. "I've saved us a lot of time, which by the way is going to waste. The warlocks might find you any minute."

"They may, indeed," a stern voice said.

Startled, Phoebe swung around to see a rather stocky gnome with a thick, gray beard, and a very determined expression on his gnarled face.

"Erin?" Cole frowned in annoyed surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I need you to come with me at once," the gnome said, reaching out a hand toward Phoebe, who backed away a step.

"Whoa! I'm not going anywhere with anyone. Cole, do you know him?"

"Unfortunately, I do. Phoebe, meet Erin; one of Santa's most annoying elves."

The elf grinned and made a perfunctory bow. "My pleasure, I'm sure. And now that we have wasted enough time on pleasantries; perhaps we could hurry up?"

"What's changed?" Cole's frown had shifted from surprise to concern.

Ignoring him, the elf held out his hand again. "No time to explain. You will be quite safe with me, Miss Halliwell. It's your nephews' safety you need to worry about."

Having started forward, Phoebe hesitated. "Chris and Wyatt? But Cole said…" Oddly conflicted by the way she suddenly felt reluctant to leave Cole, she stalled for time. "Eh, can I just get dressed first?"

"Absolutely. Take your time. Make sure to choose something black."

"Black?"

"Isn't that what you would wear to a funeral? We need to go now if you want to keep your family alive."

"Oh, no," Phoebe whispered, her feet propelling her forward out of sheer desperation.

"Phoebe, wait…"

"Don't listen to him, Phoebe," Erin snapped. "Obviously, he wants to keep you from saving them. You can't trust him."

What?

The urgency in Erin's voice drove Phoebe forward and her hand was inches from Erin's when a strange sound, coming from the parlor, made her turn around to see something that made her eyes grow wide with fear.

A large wolf was in the doorway, slowly advancing into the room, fur bristling. "Little gnome," it growled, yellow eyes fixing Erin. "You smell funny."

A faint tremor ran through Cole. "Funny?" His voice was a mere whisper, yet crackled like a whiplash.

Shape-shifter!

A bolt of energy was already forming in his palm, but unfortunately, Phoebe was in his direct line of fire and Tes was too far away to take the Shape-shifter down. "Get away from him, Phoebe!"

"Cole?" Recognizing the dangerous look in his eyes, Phoebe raised her hands a little. With her back against the elf, she failed to see how he shifted shape into Ruiz, or the ball of fire forming in his hand. She did see the one in Cole's. "Cole…what are you…? Don't!"

Behind her, Ruiz raised his hand in a sure aim, knowing he was shielded by her body.

"Take her!" Cole snapped out the command, and before Phoebe could react, the huge creature leapt toward her, jaws open in a ferocious snarl. Both paws hit her in the shoulders, knocking her back with considerable force, sending her crashing to the floor.

The moment Phoebe was out of his way, Cole launched his energy bolt. It seemed to hit the Shape-shifter right in the chest, but Ruiz blinked out at the same time, making it impossible to tell if he was hit or not. Normally, he would have shimmered after to finish the job, but the fire-ball his adversary released before he disappeared, was too close for him to duck.

Not powerful enough to do any damage, it still sent him flying, back first, into the nearest wall, knocking the breath out of his lungs.

Damn! I had forgotten how much that hurts!

Groaning and wincing, he tried to force the air back into his deflated lungs, when he became aware of some commotion in the room. Still gasping, he forced his eyes open to see Phoebe wield a heavy chair, trying to fend off Tes.

"Get back!" she shouted angrily, her voice shaking a little from fear. "Get away from him!"

What are you doing? Trying to defend me?

Not certain what to believe, Cole tried to push himself up. "It's okay…" he wheezed. "It won't hurt us."

As soon as Cole spoke, the wolf settled down to lie on the carpet.

Slightly unclear whether he had addressed her or the canine, Phoebe put the chair down, warily keeping it between them. "Are you okay?" Rattled, she glanced down at him

"Yeah. I just need to catch my breath." He let go a faint laugh and allowed his tired body to fall back on the floor. "Just like in the good old days, isn't it?"

"Bad old days, you mean?" Phoebe's lips were pressed together, but the irritation in her voice didn't quite reach her eyes. "Care to explain what's going on?"

"That was one of the shape-shifters I warned you about."

"Okay, let's pretend for the moment that I believe you. Where did that come from?"

"What?" Pushing himself up to sit, he saw her look at the wolf. "Oh! Don't worry. It's with me."

"I know I shouldn't be surprised, but… You've got a… wolf?"

"It's not a wolf." He gave her a slanted smile. "It's a werewolf."

"A we-what?" Phoebe stared at him. "I hope there is a very good explanation as to why you have teamed up with a werewolf."

"So I can eat you better?" he sneered, getting fed up with being accused at every turn.

On the verge of an angry retort, Phoebe decided it wasn't worth the trouble, and just let go an explosive sigh. "That's exactly the kind of answer that won't gain you my trust, you know."

Cole struck out with both hands in exasperation. "Is there any way to do that?"

"How about more truth and less evasion?" Off his look, she sighed and shook her head a little. Not knowing how to sort this out, Phoebe looked over at the creature again. It was big and dark gray, almost black, with amber eyes that looked back at her, unwavering, penetrating; as if it was evaluating her very soul. "What's his name? Cerberus?"

"It's a she." Something mischievous glinted in his eyes. "I call her Prue."

"Ha-ha, very funny." Clearly not amused, Phoebe glanced over at the wolf again. "Don't werewolves take human shape when there's no full moon?"

"I prefer my canine one," Tes answered, making Phoebe all the more flustered for forgetting the creature was able to both understand and answer. "And my name is Tes. I have followed Cole since he found me near death and helped me. I owe him my life."

"I see…" Phoebe tapped her lips with a finger, and then she turned back to Cole. "You helped a werewolf against… what?" Hands fastened on her hips she gave him a pointed look. "Innocents?"

"Hardly that." Scowling, he got back on his feet. You just have to assume that? Except, this time, she was partly right. "A mob of bloodthirsty peasants had clubbed and killed her litter and her mate. They were about to torture her to death. I think they deserved a lot worse than just a good scare."

"You know better than that." Phoebe scolded gently, silently admitting that the explanation put things in perspective. Still, she was not about to let him get away with it. "They probably thought a werewolf was a threat to them."

"Well, she wasn't. Her father was a werewolf who happened to mate with a regular wolf. Tes was just trying to survive between worlds."

"Well, you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Phoebe raised a knowing eyebrow at Cole, a faint smile in the corner of her mouth.

More than you'll ever know…

"What I know," he said, grateful for the chance to change the subject, "is that we need to break the spell on you, and we need to do it fast, because if that Shape-shifter made it back to his mates…"

"I know… and I…do believe you, Cole. It's just a little much to take in all at once." Summing up all her boldness, she bravely walked past Tes, and bent down to pick up the pieces of the mug she had dropped earlier. There was something calming about cleaning up a mess not created by magic – even if it was Cole's appearance that had made her drop it in the first place. It gave her time to gather her thoughts too. Cole's presence was very disturbing – on so many levels, and for so many diverse reasons.

A very large part of her mind was screaming to her to get as much distance as she possibly could between them, but it couldn't quite drown out the part that whispered to her about a time when heaven and earth was moved for the sake of a love that was just as passionate and deep as it was impossible.

It was a time she had tried very hard to leave behind her. Not to deny – it was too much part of what had made her who she was today, for that. She just wished to put it to rest; because things had happened – things that had changed everything forever, and wondering what would have happened if she had tried to do differently, would only drive her insane.

Maybe it was meant to be – maybe it wasn't. Either way, there was nothing she could do to change what had happened. Fact remained that they had ignored all warnings, broken every law there was, and were made to pay for it – in spades.

Phoebe stared at the shards of her mug; broken splinters, spilt coffee, and suddenly an old nursery rhyme started to repeat in her head.

'Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

And all the king's horses and all the king's men

Could not put Humpty Dumpty back together again.'

"Phoebe?"

Cole's voice was soft and concerned, and she realized with a start that a tear had escaped to trickle down her cheek.

"It's… nothing. I guess it's just that time of the month." Giving him a half-hearted smile, Phoebe rubbed at her face with her sleeve. "My favorite mug," she lied.

Getting back to her feet, she made to take the broken mug to the kitchen, but stopped as Cole held out his hand.

"May I?"

Puzzled, she let him take the shards, and watched as he cupped his hand over them and closed his eyes in concentration. When he lifted his right hand again, the mug was whole, without as much as a crack to show it had been broken. Smiling, he handed it back to her.

"I didn't know you could do that," she whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Neither did I. "I only wish all things were as easy to mend."

Feeling his eyes searching for hers, Phoebe quickly turned away to escape to the kitchen. "I'll put it away before I drop it again."

Thoughtfully fingering his chin, Cole followed her with his eyes. "What do you think?" he asked the werewolf.

Tes regarded him silently for a second or two. "I think you're both nuts," she stated, yawned and promptly fell asleep on the rug.

In need of a moment alone, Phoebe slipped out of the kitchen and scurried upstairs.

The shock had finally caught up with her, and her legs almost gave out beneath her before she reached the marginal safety of the bathroom. Once there, she sat down on the floor, closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to stop herself from freaking out. Warlocks kidnapping her sisters and trying to ruin Christmas in every sense of the word, she could deal with. Cole being not only back but back in her life was an altogether different matter.

With shaky hands, she turned on the faucets, and let the hot water stream over her until she regained some sort of equilibrium. By the time she had washed off the horrible, dirty feeling of having her body violated – of which she, thankfully, only had a vague recollection – and toweled herself dry, she was determined not to be fazed by any reaction Cole might elicit from her.

By the time Cole had climbed the stairs, Phoebe was still in the shower, so he continued into her bedroom to go sit in the armchair.

He had long since lost count of all the nights he had spent in that chair, just watching her sleep; both dreading and hoping she would sense him. On rare occasions, he had taken advantage of the fact that he could enter any plane, and sought her out in her dreams. Sometimes, she had run away from him; sometimes she had run toward him, but he always faded away before she reached him.

Only once had he stayed; the first time. She had walked up to him with happy wonder in her eyes, and unable to stop himself he had reached out to touch her. His fingers had brushed across her cheek, brushed away a strand of loose hair, and he had smiled and spoken her name…

That was a big mistake. In the dream-plane, his voice was as real to her as if he had been alive. The sound woke her up and she had sat bolt upright in her bed with such a shocked look – not unlike the one she had given him when she saw him today – that it was weeks before he even attempted another nighttime visit to her room.

What the hell am I doing here now?

The very same question was mirrored in Phoebe's eyes as she returned to her bedroom five minutes later. Caught unaware by the sight of him sitting there, she snatched a little in the doorway. Taking a deep breath to compose herself again, she marched up to her dresser without paying him any further attention. If she pretended he wasn't there, it might be easier to keep her cool.

Ignoring Cole was not that easily done, though. His very presence in a room was such that even if he kept quietly to the background, he still attracted attention. There was just something about him that made it impossible not to notice him.

Phoebe couldn't help but throw furtive glances in the mirror, while blow-drying her hair, to watch him watching her steadily. She didn't know what unnerved her the most; his keen gaze or his silence.

Tying up her hair in a loose bun, Phoebe gave him a sidewise look. "Turn around!" she ordered, starting to untie the morning robe she had donned again after the shower.

"It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," he pointed out, and tried not to wince as she twisted the knife that remained in his heart, another turn.

"Yeah? Well, you lost the right to do so a long time ago."

If her head wasn't spinning already from the overwhelming events of the morning, she would have been shocked to find that while part of her couldn't wait to kick him where it would hurt the most if he so much as breathed at her, another part actually wished he would.

Not wanting to find out if Cole would be the perfect gentleman or have the indecency to at least look at her, Phoebe disappeared into the closet. When she emerged again, she had put on a pair of dark ski-pants and a warm, red sweater with golden snowflakes embroidered over the front.

The sweater also had a zipper in the back of the neck. A zipper that stuck, and refused to budge and, of course, she couldn't quite reach it.

Amused, Cole watched her fight with it for a couple of seconds before he decided to brave it. "Let me…" he offered and rose to extend a hand, causing Phoebe to snatch back and quickly step away from him.

"Hands off, mister!" She glared at him, daring him to try that again, but to her faint disappointment, he stayed where he was. Irritated with everything, she gave the zipper a good tug – and it finally came loose. Only to snag in her hair that had come undone during her struggle. Wincing, she tried to pull it down again, but it was more stuck than ever, and every tug she made, tugged at her hair as well. It hurt like hell, but pride stopped her from asking Cole for help.

Just as she was about to look for a pair of scissors, she felt a warm hand placing itself over hers, gently removing them.

"May I?" Cole's voice said quietly behind her back. "You're entangled quite badly."

Giving up, Phoebe let go a frustrated sigh; her hands coming down to fold across her chest. "If you insist…"

His hands were soft and warm, firm but gentle, as they briefly touched her skin – just like she remembered them. Keeping herself very still, determined not to read anything into this that wasn't there, Phoebe still caught herself closing her eyes and wishing he would be at it just for a little while longer, and silently scolded herself. "Why are you here?" she sighed as he finished by tying her hair back up.

I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't. I can't even tell you why I can't

"I told you," he said, his voice slightly distant as he concentrated on the hairdo as well as on the feel of her beneath his fingers. The scent of orange flowers – the scent of Phoebe – was strong in his nostrils this close to her. "I'm here to help you save Christmas."

Phoebe pressed her lips together. She hadn't meant it that way, but would be caught dead before she told him that. "So tell me," she asked, trying to ignore the proximity – another thing that was ever so hard to do. "Where have you kept yourself the past four years?"

"In between," he lied truthfully, adding for good measure; "Too bad for Heaven, too good for Hell."

"Being mysterious won't earn you any points, you know."

"No? As I recall you used to love that about me."

His glittering blue-green eyes met her dark brown in the mirror, something between a smirk and a smile on his lips, and for a brief moment it was as if he had never been away; as if the past four years had been nothing but a weird dream. The entire situation was so surreal that Phoebe suddenly got the feeling that if she turned around now, Cole wouldn't be there – and then she would wake up from this crazy dream. "Well, I used to do a lot of things that made no sense," she stated pointedly, stepping away from him. "But I've learned from my mistakes too, and damn it, Cole, you're asking a lot. We both know what a master you are at deceiving people into doing what you want. You've set me up so many times in the past and now you turn up from God knows where, claiming an elf sent you here to help me. It's just…" She waved her arms for lack of an appropriate word, ending in a gesture of helplessness. "I want to trust you. I just don't know how."

Cole watched her silently. Phoebe's words hurt more than he thought they would. Or not her words so much as the past they brought to mind. There were so many things he wanted to talk to her about; things that never got said, things he needed to explain to her – but explanations wouldn't change a single thing. Besides, there was no time. What he really needed was a fast and sure way to convince her of his intentions.

"I wish I could go back in time and change the past," he said quietly. "But I can't – the past will always remain the past, and there's nothing you or I can do about that. I do realize I have no right to expect you to trust me like it never happened, but what if I can prove to you that I'm not evil?"

Phoebe's eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."

"If there is something you can trust; something you know won't lie to you?"

Phoebe's dark eyes searched his, and then she suddenly drew back a little as she realized what he was getting at. "The Book of Shadows," she whispered.

Cole made an almost imperceptible nod. "Would you agree that your book won't let anyone evil touch it?"

"Yes, but…"

"So, if I can touch it, would that prove to you that I am not evil?"

"I…I don't know. I guess so, but…what if you can't touch it?"

Eyes, the color of a stormy sea, fixed her. "Then we will both know, won't we?" Without waiting to see if she would follow, he turned around and headed for the stairs to the attic before he lost his nerve.

Three feet from the Book of Shadows, he stopped. Pale light of an overcast and misty winter's day, filtered through the stained glass, cloaking the space in multi-colored shadows rather than bright spots. Time seemed to stand still up there.

Or collect.

It was most likely because of all the magic in the room. The Book of Shadows was like a magical generator all on its own, where it rested on its lectern in the dusky attic; silent and closed. Cole almost felt as if it waited for him to challenge it.

Having caught up with him, Phoebe came around to stand behind the lectern. "Are you sure about this?" Her eyes were dark and concerned.

No.

Wetting his lips, Cole tried to will his heart to beat slower. "Yes."

A year and a half ago, he had managed to make Piper trust him. Now he needed to make Phoebe do the same, and it was going to be a lot harder. This was not how he had wanted to do it, though.

What if I can't touch it?

Determined to go through with his decision, Cole quickly bit back the nervous twitch that scuttled across his lips. Standing at an arms length from the magic book, he eyed it as if he was measuring an opponent. Then he took a deep breath and lifted his right hand, stretching and flexing his fingers a couple of times before slowly reaching for the leather-bound tome. Shaking only a little, his hand hovered in the air less than half a foot above the cover.

What if the book scooted away? What if it didn't sense his good intentions? What if the curse he was under interfered in some way? There were so many reasons he hadn't tried to touch the Book of Shadows before, and it was not fear of being hurt – at least not physically.

Please, let me touch you! For Phoebe's sake. I can't help her if she doesn't trust me. Please, don't move away!

Steeling himself, he lowered his hand toward the triquetra on the cover.