Chapter 16
"Worthless potion," she muttered, and kicked off the cover to run up to the attic to whip up something else – and looked down.
"Oh," she said. She was still lying in her bed, eyes closed. "I hope I'm not dead." A little worried, she tried to feel the pulse of the Phoebe in the bed, when she noticed that the wrist watch seemed to have stopped. Following a hunch, Phoebe took herself over to the window and looked out. It was still snowing, but the snow wasn't swirling and dancing in the air; it was just hanging there – as frozen in time as if Piper had froze the world. A lone car was passing on the street below, its headlights throwing long beams over the tracks on the snow-covered street. Or it ought to be passing, but it wasn't moving. Even the snow, sloshing from the wheels hung in frozen cascades in the air.
Phoebe bit her lip. So this was the 25:th hour; and she was inside it. It made her wonder how she could move through the room. If not so much as a single dust mote could be disturbed, then how come she could breathe and walk on the carpet? Moreover; how did she get out of the room if she couldn't move the handle?
Being trapped inside her bedroom was not what she had in mind for this night. Then again; hadn't she pulled the cover aside when she got up? Testing a theory, Phoebe returned to the bed; carefully grabbed a handful of downy cover, and pulled. The cover rose easily from her body – at the same time as it remained undisturbed.
Frowning, Phoebe studied the phenomenon, and then it dawned on her. She was in another plane now; a plane that was placed directly over her reality. Walking up to the door she pressed the handle down. It yielded immediately, and as the door opened, the 'real' door faded into transparency, giving her a glimpse of another hallway outside. It was definitely the usual hallway, but it seemed askew somehow; duskier and less familiar, like in a… "Dream!" she whispered. "I'm asleep and in the 25:th hour." That thought was slightly mind-boggling. She fully understood the caution in the Book now. "Okay…" she murmured and closed the door again, to think her next move through.
She wanted to see Cole; apparently he wasn't here, so she had to move. She tried wishing herself someplace else, like they had done that time when they could blink like warlocks, but that didn't work at all. Then it struck her that doors were always doors; in-betweens. How many times had she dreamt she opened a familiar door only to find something completely unexpected beyond it?
Donning a morning robe over her nightie, and sticking her bare feet in a pair of slippers, she made ready to leave. "But which door do I use?" She turned around. There was the door to the hallway, but she doubted she would find limbo in the manor. That left the door to her wardrobe. "Okay, here I come." Taking a deep breath, absentmindedly pulling at the sash around her waist, Phoebe grabbed the doorknob, pulled the door open and stepped inside.
For a brief moment disappointment washed over her, as she thought she was actually standing in her wardrobe among her clothes – looking very foolish – but the darkness that surrounded her contained no rustle of cloth, or hangers pushed against each other. It was, in fact, a very empty darkness.
Uncertain, she took a couple of steps forward and as she did the darkness became less dense, turning into a gray haze that let her see she was in an empty room with four gray walls and a gray roof lost in the shadows. Each wall had a door – when she turned, she could see her own room through the opening behind her. That was a bit of relief; but which door should she choose next? Shrugging her shoulders, Phoebe took a couple of steps forward toward the door opposite her own – and was baffled to find that it remained just as far away. Even running toward it didn't help – the room stretched out just as fast before her so she couldn't reach it. "Suit yourself." She huffed a little, and tried for the door to her left instead – but the same thing happened. "Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea after all," she muttered and turned to exit the way she had entered, when a strange being appeared in front of her.
"Where do you think you're going?" it said, wielding a lantern at her like it was a weapon.
"Erin?" Puzzled, Phoebe stared at the little man, who really looked a lot like the gnome, only bundled up in a lot more clothes. Or perhaps 'rags' was a better way to describe what covered his body.
"Erin? Not bloody likely!" the creature scoffed in an accent so thick, she could have baked bread with it. "I'm the Gatekeeper," he added proudly for her information. "I probably look like this 'Erin' to you because you're dreaming – makes things appear different from what they are, see? Your mind will turn unfamiliar things into shapes it can recognize, or shapes that are associated with whatever you actually experience – see?" He gave her confused look an impatient grimace. "Never mind! This," he gestured grandly at the room, "is the In-between of In-betweens."
Phoebe glanced at her drab surroundings. "No offense, but it isn't very impressive."
The Gatekeeper did take some offense. "Typical you mortal humans to judge only what you can see with your eyes," he humphed with derision.
"It's just a small room with four walls," she went to defend her opinion.
"Really? And why do you think you couldn't reach that door before?" When Phoebe just looked more confused, he lifted his lantern. "Let me spread some light."
Phoebe felt her eyes bulge. As the strange little man lifted his lamp, the room seemed to grow wherever it cast its light; and it was enormous – not to say endless. She was standing on a walkway with any number of doors, stretching out in both directions until it disappeared in the dark. And it wasn't the only one either; tier upon tier of similar walkways, filled with doors, stretching in every direction; above her and below her. Between the rows there were several walkways and staircases, spiraling up and down; sometimes upside-down. "All those doors…?" she breathed.
"Lead to other planes " The Gatekeeper lowered his lamp again, but the image stayed with her.
"But…I've traveled between different planes before, and I've never been here."
"That's because you haven't been inside the 25:th hour when you did – see?"
Phoebe blinked, trying to assimilate it all without floundering. 'It's a dream' she told herself. 'Weird things happen in dreams that seem perfectly plausible at the time. Just go with it!' "How do you know which ones go where?" she asked, genuinely interested.
"It's my job." Her impressed look pleased him. "And part of that job is to ask any intruders what business they have here."
"Why should I tell you anything if I can't even see your real form?" Phoebe snapped, made bold by the fact that he hadn't made any attempts to threaten or kill her.
"Good point!" The no longer so Erin-like being grinned. "That's the way to handle this; don't trust your eyes!" He chuckled at her look. "You don't have to tell me squat, little witch, but then you don't get out of here either – see? As I said; I'm the…"
"Gatekeeper, yes, I got that." Phoebe folded her arms across her chest and gave him a suspicious look. "Strange, the Book of Shadows doesn't mention you at all."
The Gatekeeper grinned smugly. "Ah, see that's because no one who returns remembers meeting me."
"Why? What do you do to them?"
"Nothing. I don't have to. Like any dream, this will dissolve and fade from your memory before you wake up – see? If you wake up, that is," he added sententiously.
Not pleased, Phoebe pondered her options. She didn't like the part about not remembering, at all. "Are there any rule or so that says you can't help me?" she asked carefully.
"Do I look like a tour-guide to you?" the Gatekeeper sniffed, clearly showing how he felt about that.
"Of course not," Phoebe hurried to amend. "But I thought that since you ask what I'm here for, you should be able to show me the right way. But, you know, I can understand if keeping track of all these doors is impossible."
Just as she had hoped, the mysterious man took offense to that. "I know every single door!" he huffed proudly. "Just name one !"
"Okay, how about the doorway into limbo."
"Limbo? That's an unusual request, but easy to answer." He raised his lamp, pointing at a heavy oak door across the chasm between the tiers. "That one," he said, and as he uttered those words, the door seemed to glow as if light was pouring through the cracks of the timber it was built from. "Now, you will tell me… Ah!" He caught Phoebe's triumphant look before she could rearrange her face. "You tricked me, little witch. So, tell me, why would you want to go there?"
Caught, Phoebe saw no reason to lie. "I need to speak with someone who's trapped there."
The Gatekeeper peered up at her with an amused grin. "Turner? Now why didn't you say so at once?"
Phoebe's eyes bulged again. "You know him?"
"We've met. So you are the one?" The Gatekeeper nodded knowingly.
"The one what?"
"The one he visits at night. Well, some nights. He's been stealing into your room on occasion – stealing into your dreams too." He tapped his nose. "I know, see. I know every door that opens between the worlds."
Too baffled to think of something coherent to say, Phoebe tried to assimilate this new information. It shouldn't surprise her that Cole had been in her room watching her – or in her dreams, for that matter. More than once had she woke up with the clear feeling of his presence. Not lately, but up until a year ago or so – come to think of it, it had stopped around the time of Drake's death, which made a lot more sense now that she had all the answers. It was just the confirmation that it was not her imagination, catching her off guard; throwing her a bit as she found that the liberty he had taken both annoyed and excited her. "Well, now I need to see him," she stated, trying to sort out thoughts that were important, and leave the rest for a more appropriate occasion.
"You've already made me reveal the door for you; go ahead," the Gatekeeper said, gesturing vaguely toward the alleged door. "It's over there."
Half expecting him to somehow bring her there, Phoebe became a bit uncertain as he just stood there watching her as if he expected her to do something. "Umm…any chance you could tell me how to get there?" she tried.
"Yes, see, if you hadn't tried to be clever in the first place, I would. Now it's all yours to figure out."
Swallowing, Phoebe looked across the bottomless chasm. "Well, it's just over there, and one flight above this one. How hard can it be?" Determined not to be slowed down by a sly gnome – or whatever he was – she headed off in the direction of the nearest stairwell.
"Trickier than you think, my dear." The Gatekeeper chuckled to himself. "Maybe I should have told her it's a one way door? But she wants to be the clever one, doesn't she?" Still chuckling, he watched as Phoebe gingerly set foot on the first flight of stairs to reach a walkway across to the other side.
Cole watched with great concern while she hesitantly and with many errors found her way across gangly walkways and unreliable stairs not quite leading to where she expected them.
She was brave; he had to give her that. Brave and stubborn; not the best combination if you wanted to stay out of trouble – he only had to look at himself for that. Eventually, she would find her way too – she always did once she had her mind set; he knew that from personal experience as well. Once upon a time, she had even come down to the Underworld to get him out. .
And now you are looking for a way to get me out of limbo?
Conflicting emotions warred inside him. He wasn't all that surprised with her for accomplishing it, but in all honesty it was not something he had expected her to do in the first place, and although it was something he had hoped for, he was no longer so sure he wanted her to pursue that quest. Now that freedom was within his reach, he was suddenly scared of what would happen. What if history repeated itself? He was not going to put them both through that hell one more time.
From his perch, high up, he could see the Gatekeeper watch her progress with interest as well, and scowled a little as the sly bastard glanced up and winked; knowing full well Cole was there.
I'll deal with you later. Especially for showing Phoebe that particular door.
He had no intentions whatsoever to talk to Phoebe, but it looked like he would be forced to. Letting her pass through that door had its temptations, but the consequences were too dire to allow himself to fall for them.
"Are you really sure you want to open that door?"
Phoebe started badly and swung around so quickly, she had to back up against the door not to collide with Cole where he stood; leaning over her, hands on his back, with an air of polite distance, yet standing so close they almost touched – only almost. He was taking great care about that, she noticed. "You're here?" she blurted out in confusion. "How can you be here?" Then her initial surprise turned into suspicion. "Or are you something my brain is giving a more recognizable shape?"
"I don't know. What do I look like?"
Phoebe eyed him silently for a beat or two, trying to sort out the jumble of many and diverse feelings he had set off in her. "Like a sorry son of a bitch," she said. He didn't; he looked audaciously good – not to say smoking hot – in the red dress shirt and black half-long coat, but she was too vexed with him for having this effect on her when she didn't have the strength and determination left to fight it, to tell him that.
Cole leaned casually on the doorpost. "Sounds like me," he conceded loftily, his eyes saying: 'I can see right through you too.' It was a game, and he liked playing mind games, because he was very good at it. "Having a bad dream?" he observed, with that faint, acerbic quirk in the corners of his mouth he always got when he amused himself with something he also disapproved of.
"Obviously," she quipped back. "I didn't expect to find you here."
"Yet you're here to find me, aren't you?" He shifted slightly where he leaned, placing himself a fraction of an inch closer to her – the minute shift serving to make him that much more imposing. "That's a dangerous quest. Especially if your desperation is driving you, not your reason."
Phoebe's jaws worked a little, chewing down the fact that he knew her all too well. "We need to talk," she said, not letting herself look away from his penetrating eyes. She could tell he wasn't happy with this and trying to find a way to deal with it – but if he tried to get rid of her, he had better think again. "What's behind this door? Limbo?" She grabbed for the handle, and found his arm blocking her from opening it.
"Yes. Are you sure you want to go there?"
His eyes glittered wickedly, but she just knew it was a mask he put on to try to avert her from what she wanted to do. 'Not going to work this time, mister,' she thought. "Move that arm!"
"Okay, but you should know that if you pass through that door, there's no turning back."
He held her eyes, and suddenly she realized the serious warning behind his words, and had to admit that he had succeeded in scaring her a little. "I've been to limbo before, and had no problem returning," she snapped, but her confidence was rattled.
"That's because you were there as a live person, and I believe you needed the daughter of a Zen-master to get you out. If you go there now, in your astral body, limbo will hold you until your real body dies." He drew back his hand to fold his arms across his chest. "But if spending some time there with me is what you want, don't let me stop you."
Phoebe's hand remained on the handle, but it was trembling now. "What is it like?" she asked. "I remember it as a beautiful, tranquil place. Except, before we sent that evil Yen-Lo through the vortex, it was more like the Wasteland." She gave him a questioning look and got a thin smile in return.
"Limbo is a cosmic void," he finally said. "There's nothing there but what you bring in to it. I brought nothing, and it holds nothing for me, so there is…nothing."
Except for what I create…
He looked away for a second, and then continued almost on an afterthought. "It's like that thick fog that sweeps in from the ocean in the winter to cover San Francisco; except it isn't wet or cold, and there is definitely not any guiding lights in it – only lost souls." Cole's ocean-colored eyes sought out hers again, this time with a quiet plea in them. "I don't want you to be one of them."
Something snatched at her heart. Slowly, she let go of the handle and placed her hand on his cheek instead. "Oh, Cole," she said, shaking her head a little. "You shouldn't be one of them either."
Eyes half-closed at her touch, he reach up to gently remove her hand to hold it in his. "It's not for us to decide," he said quietly. "And you shouldn't have come here. There will be consequences."
"I'm having a dream; they can't punish you for that."
"Except I'm not part of your subconscious, and maybe I'm not the one they will punish." He raised a suggestive eyebrow at her.
"When did you ever care about consequences?" she grunted, impatient with him for bringing up annoying details.
"When they started to affect the safety of those I love. When did you stop?"
"Same reason. When it comes to family, you do everything; and you are family, Cole, I just forgot that for a while." Phoebe glanced over at the Gatekeeper, who was eyeing them with interest. "Besides, we still need to talk. Is there some place we can go?"
Giving it a moment's thought; Cole nodded and led her away from the faintly glowing door. "Yes, there is." He really didn't want to talk to Phoebe, and certainly didn't relish having to say goodbye to her one more time; explanations wouldn't change a thing they had said or done – at best they might make them understand why they had made those choices. Then again, he mused, allowing a deep sigh, if understanding could lead to forgiveness, then – he hoped – they could have he could even persuade her away from her quest.
I could also try to talk a mountain into moving out of my way…
He led her down the hallway, across walkways and stairs until they reached a door of light birchwood with a delicate brass handle. "Where does it lead?" she asked as he gestured for her to step up to it.
"It's the door the Gatekeeper should have shown you. It leads to your dreams."
Phoebe frowned. "I thought I was dreaming already."
"It's complicated."
"I got that. So what will I find on the other side?"
"Aside from me? I don't know, it will be your dream – I will just be inside it."
"Yeah, someone mentioned you had made quite a habit of that." Her accusing look actually had him a bit flustered, which she couldn't help but enjoy. "Is there some trick to this, or do I just open and walk inside?"
"If you concentrate on what you want, a feeling that brings it about, that sometimes helps, but I should warn you. Soon as you enter you will step inside a dream; your subconscious will try to take over. Truths and emotions will float to the surface."
"That's the general idea." Taking a deep breath, gathering up her courage, she started to press the handle.
"Sweet dreams." He grinned as she glanced back up at him, and disappeared like the Cheshire cat when she pushed the door open to step inside.
The door opened and the mix of nervousness and exhilaration made her snatch a little as he stood there in a black tux, looking gorgeous and surprised.
"Phoebe…"
"Yeah… Hi!" Her hands were clasped in front of her white coat, fingers tightly interlaced, as if she was holding her breath mentally, yet her dark eyes expressed relief to see him. She fired off a wide smile, and let go a slightly nervous laugh. "Okay, major déjà vu here." As he failed to respond coherently, Phoebe eyed him more evenly. "Can I come in?"
Realizing he was blocking the doorway, he snapped out of his stun and backed inside to allow her entry. "Of course."
She stepped inside a living room, with sparse but elegant furnishing and a couple of large panorama windows on the far wall.
Cole closed the door behind her, his hand lingering on the handle as he silently berated himself, and tried to gather his wits around him. By the time he turned around she had already shed her coat and proceeded into the living room.
"I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time?"
"No… not at all," he assured her in what he hoped was a casual tone. "Can I…" He broke off, stunned by the sight of her as she turned around to face him. She was wearing a sleeveless, silky evening gown, in deep Christmas red and green tones, with pearls and embroidery in gold running in an intricate pattern across the top and down over her waist. The glitter caught the highlights in her dark hair cascading down in soft waves over her almost bare shoulders, giving her a gilded radiance that left him agog. Around her neck a pretty snowflake in silver, set with diamonds, hung on a thin chain. Is this your dream, or mine? Struggling to kick his brain back into gear, Cole fumbled for the right words. "…get you something to drink?" he finished his interrupted sentence.
"Thank you." Phoebe regarded his handsome face with a sting of bad conscience. 'Why are you so good to me when I've been so cruel to you?' she thought.
Finding an opened bottle of Champagne and two flutes, he poured some of the amber liquid into the glasses, and handed one to her. "To Christmas?" he suggested.
"To Christmas," she smiled, and lifted her glass in a toast before they both sipped the Champagne.
"I…" they both said at the same time. "You first," they added in unison, and couldn't refrain from laughing.
"Ladies first," he offered gallantly.
Phoebe shook her head, and laughed some more. "I don't know what I was going to say."
"I seem to have that effect on some women," he quipped, knowing it could be suicidal, and folded his arms as if to shield himself from her sharp tongue; but the deathblow didn't come.
"Yeah, I guess you do," she murmured softly; gazing up at him with an unreadable look in her eyes. "This isn't real, is it?"
"No, you're dreaming. We needed to talk, remember?"
"Yes…we need to talk," she repeated, frowning a little as she drew away. Absentmindedly fingering her glass, she glided across the floor. By the large window, she stopped and stared out into the night and the many lights of the city. In the distance, the Golden Gate Bridge glittered like one giant Christmas decoration. "We were always forced to part under such chaotic circumstances," she said distantly. "We never had the time to say proper good-byes."
"About that…" He cleared his throat, glanced down at the flute in his hand, and put it away on a table. "I have something I want to say first." Cole braced himself. "I am through apologizing for what I did," he blurted out, not sure how to say what he wanted to say. "For being The Source, for coming back; for loving you and trying to save your life. I am sorry a lot of it happened, but I have no regrets; I did what I thought I had to do to save you. If I am sorry for anything, it's for not being able to save us both, but I guess that was the price to be extracted." When she didn't interrupt, he went on before he lost his nerve altogether. "I wish I could go back in time and change the past, but I can't. The past will always remain the past and there's nothing you or I can do about that."
Phoebe kept looking out the window. "But we can do something about the future…"
"Yes, so this is goodbye."
"No, it isn't." She shook her head, refusing to look at him.
"Phoebe, don't…" he warned even as his heart began to pound a little faster in his chest. "It's not…"
She turned around then to face him, tears in her eyes. "I know what you're trying to say, Cole, but you're wrong. You're as wrong now as I was then. I was so terrified of what could happen if I let you into my life again, because I loved you so much, and it hurt just to think about it, so I ran. I don't want to make that mistake again."
So much for seeking closure. "Maybe it wasn't a mistake," he insisted. "Maybe this is how we are meant to be."
"I don't think so. That's why I'm here; to find out if…how we are meant to be."
Her words went like an electric shock through his body, rattling him. "Screw that!" he snapped; suddenly, and inexplicably, angry with her. "You're here because you need to relieve your conscience. You think if we talk everything will be fine; all debts paid and we can move on with our separate lives as if all of this never happened." All the time he had spent, fantasizing about her saying those very words; and now that she did, he didn't know how to deal with it; afraid of what would happen.
"Cole, no…" Putting down the flute, she reached out for him, but he took a step back, away from her. "That isn't true. I do want to find a way to break the curse; to get you out of here."
He glared at her snubbed and slightly desperate look. "Did you even stop to consider if I want to get out of here?" he asked a bit harsher than he intended.
"What? Why?" Her fair visage scrounged up in a frown of consternation. "I don't understand?"
"You remember what happened the last time I tried being good on my own," he muttered dismissively, swinging away from her. "I can't stand seeing your fear and loath of me in your eyes one more time, knowing I caused you all that pain. I won't go back to that and I won't put that responsibility on you." The last words came out in a near whisper. If I have to be lonely, I'd rather I'm alone. "Just give me a piece of your mind right here and now, and we can say our good-byes and go our merry ways."
Phoebe didn't move, and he didn't need to see her face to know the hurt in her eyes; her stunned silence spoke volumes. Back turned, he shoved his hands into the trouser pockets and cursed himself for being such an idiot. Now you've done it!
The light touch on his shoulder was so unexpected it startled him a little. "It scares me too," she confessed in a small voice. "But the past can't hurt us unless we allow it. We can work something out, Cole – together."
Slowly, incredulous, he turned to face her. "Phoebe…" He swallowed hard, taking her hands in his. "Do you have any idea what you are saying?"
She smiled a little; that fey smile he remembered so clearly. "No, but I'd love to find out. This time I won't be a coward. Besides, I don't want any man. I just want you, Cole. I never wanted anyone but you. I understand now the reason I haven't been able to hold on to love; I kept looking for your love." She shook her head and let go a faint laugh, no more than a puff of air. "I was looking for you even before I knew you existed. I was a fool to let you go."
But he wasn't listening; not really. Somehow his brain and ears had stopped interpreting the sound-waves she made while speaking. The last thing he had clearly heard was; 'I just want you, Cole'. "You're rambling," he stated, more shaken than he wanted to admit. "Look, you can't come here on a whim, and…"
"It's not a whim." Phoebe shook her head again. "I think I love you," she professed in a near whisper that cut through him like a laser, making his jaws lock and his mouth dry.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't," he snapped, mentally backpedaling from the implications.
"You don't get to decide that," Phoebe insisted calmly; straightened up a bit. "I promised to get you out, Cole, and I will. I don't know how; I just know that somehow I have to; that I am supposed to."
"And then what?" he challenged with an almost perverse need to rip away at any false pretense she might have. "We go back to where we were and live happily ever after?" Eyes hard and dark, he found himself in front of her, grabbing her arms and all but shaking her. Don't toy with me, Phoebe!
She shrunk under his verbal onslaught, shivered a little in his grip, but she didn't back away; her eyes were looking straight into his. "No, there is no way back," she said. "No way we can start over where we were before all this happened, because we aren't the same anymore and we have been through too much. What we can do, is move forward." She searched for words that would make him understand. "Remember you told me once that you didn't know where we were going, but wherever it was, you wanted it to be with me?" That seemed to penetrate whatever defenses he had put up. Conflicting emotions rippled over his face, and she boldly stepped closer; close enough that her body brushed against his. "This time we can make it right," she insisted, her hands lifting hesitantly toward his chest. "Third time's a charm."
This time…
Her words reverberated inside of him; the most beautiful and horrifying words he had ever heard. "Are you trying to seduce me?" he asked wearily, his grip on her arms softening.
"Is it working?"
You had me at 'hello'…
Unable to help himself, he caved with a sigh and pulled her closer. When she didn't resist, he put his arms around her in a tight embrace; holding her close, feeling her arms encircle his back, and her hair tickled his throat as she nuzzled his chest. "Phoebe…I'm cursed never to have love," he murmured into her hair.
"So am I, apparently," she stated, her voice a bit muffled by the tux. "I thought perhaps we could offset one another's curses."
Cole closed his eyes. He wished it would work that way, wished it so much that it hurt, but he knew it wouldn't. "That's a lovely dream."
"Then let's make that dream come true." Without warning, she reached up and kissed him, long and thoroughly.
"Phoebe…" he breathed, released from her lips. "I can't…"
"Hush," she smiled softly. "Dance with me."
Wordlessly, he took her hand and brought her close. Her petite body was soft and warm and fit snugly into his embrace. Music filled the room from somewhere, and as he fell into step with the song, she followed him like a flower will follow the summer breeze. Her hand gripped lightly over his thumb and he held it close to his heart, inhaling the scent of orange flowers that always seemed to surround her.
"Unforgettable, that's what you are," Nat King Cole crooned to them. "Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me. Never before has someone been more unforgettable in every way, and forever more, that's how you'll stay. That's why, darling, it's incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable too."
Eyes half closed, she let him lead her across the floor. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his body, and it felt so safe, so right; so good – and when his face lowered slowly until his breath caressed her hair, tickled her ear, she let her head yield to the side so his lips could find her neck in a butterfly touch. His hands were tightening slightly around her, his warm breath skimming over her skin.
"If you want me to stop, tell me now," he breathed into her neck and hair.
"Stop…" she breathed and felt how the breath caught in his throat as he swallowed and pulled back an inch, the hold of his hands relaxing a little. "…talking," she continued, opening her eyes so she could look into his. His beautiful blue-green eyes searched her face, questioning, disbelieving, yearning; so she reached up with both hands to place them on his face and gently pull him toward her until their lips touched. There was a small burst of hot air on her face as he shivered at her touch.
Eyes closed, he leaned a little closer, felt her lips close around his in the softest kiss; barely more than an exchange of breaths. "Phoebe…" he breathed into her mouth, almost unable to move; his body tingling all over with tension and desire, yet unable to believe it wasn't another dream. "We shouldn't…"
Because the gods created the kiss as a substitute for any words, she kissed him again, more intensely this time, nibbling at his lips, eventually letting her tongue flicker in between his teeth. "This is my dream, remember."
He scooped her up then, held her tight into his arms, pressing her close to his body, kissing her passionately, oblivious to the tear of relief that trickled down his cheek.
She didn't know where the bed they sat on came from – maybe she had dreamed it up, just like the music – but it was huge and covered with satin sheets in a room lit only by candlelight. His soft mouth touched her nose, the skin on her cheek, chin and neck, and she answered in kind.
He felt her lips brush over his face like wings of a butterfly and heclosed his eyes as he let sensation be his only sense, taking it all in into the smallest detail. Her mouth touched his eyelids, his forehead and his ears until their lips were so close they almost touched.
Lightly, as if they were afraid to go all the way, they breathed kisses at each other; thin nibbles, lips brushing against lips; questing, titillating. Shallow breaths mingled in the narrow space between their mouths. Her hand was still on his neck pulling him gently towards her. Their mouths took on a life of their own, brushing, tasting, kindling desire. As they grew more and more excited it grew faster, closer and more and more eager until their tongues finally met in a long, passionate kiss.
Cole pulled her close, fell back on the bed and pulled her with him, still trapped in the kiss. She landed on top of him and he let his hands move over the shape of her body. Through the gown he felt every curve, every sinew and muscle, and traced them lightly with his palms and fingers from beginning to end and back again. He longed to touch her bare skin but extended the moment as long as he could, the anticipation almost as sweet as the moment itself.
Unbuttoning his shirt with feverish fingers, she pushed it aside until she had bared his chest. Her lips landed on naked skin and he laid back, enjoying her caressing for a while, before he sat up and removed the tux and dress shirt completely. Phoebe watched him silently. "You know, you have a gorgeous body," she whispered, slightly breathless by the sight. Without a word he reached out and gently pulled her already unzipped dress off her shoulders, leaving her naked with the dim candlelight flickering over her body. The sight of her like that aroused him as much as her touch had. "So do you," he breathed. His hands cupped around her breasts, bent down to kiss them, feeling her chest heave as she breathed in and out beneath his touch.
She pulled him down over her then, kissed his head as he burrowed in to her soft parts, drowning her soft skin with kisses, caressing it with both lips and fingers, finding each and every place that gave her pleasure until she threw her head back and moaned, pressing against his hands. "I want you," she mouthed in his ear as he rolled over on his back with her sprawled over his body, caressing his trousers off him while he kissed her.
"Are you sure?" he breathed back, his hands running over the small of her back. "You need to be sure…before I'm at the point of no return."
Phoebe reflected briefly that she was already way beyond the point of no return. Firm and soft at the same time, in a wonderful combination, Cole's hands were grabbing, caressing, fingering, touching, brushing, stroking all over her body; rediscovering and finding their ways to all the familiar places of her sensitive spots, sending her spinning toward ecstasy in a way no other man could. Just how much she had missed his touch was only now becoming clear to her.
If she let him have her, there would be consequences – she acknowledged that – but if he stopped… "I'm more sure than I've ever been," she assured him between breathless kisses and not wanting to wait any longer, she reached down to take the matter in her own hands.
It was something he thought he would never do again, especially not with Phoebe, and as he slid inside her, a shiver of intense rapture ran up his spine and spread out through his body, making him echo the gasp of pleasure that escaped her as well.
How he had longed and yearned for this moment when he could be with her again, for the longest while fearing it might never happen. Now they were here, at long last, but no matter how hard they tried, neither of the two could shake the fear inside that the next time might be just as far away and preceded with just as much anguish. Consequently, their love-making took on an almost desperate note as they held on to each other as if their lives depended on it; making love in an intense, almost desperate way, as if they would never do it again.
Cole knew in his heart that they were meant to be together, but they had been through so much. How much more would they have to endure to keep what they had already paid so dearly for? How much more would be extracted from them as toll for their forbidden love? There had already been buckets of grief for a few moments of bliss – when was their last straw reached? Still, he couldn't ever imagine giving up. He simply didn't know how to let her go.
Their mutual need and yearning for each other was so strong, it swept them away like a tidal wave. Drowning in desire, they fought to ride it out, clinging to their lovemaking as an outlet for all the anxiety, fear and fragile hopes they harbored inside.
Release came like surf on the beach and they let themselves float in the rhythm and get washed over by the rolling waves of the aftermath as they caught their breaths again.
"I love you, Cole Turner," she mouthed by his ear.
"I love you, Phoebe," he whispered back, and thought that 'love' didn't begin to cover what he felt for her.
"Making love is a lot like Christmas," she observed as she lay curled up on his arm, enjoying the way he drew lazy circles of love on her back and shoulder with his fingers.
"How so?"
"Well, you build up to this excitement, and it just increases until it erupts in ecstasy on Christmas, and afterwards, you lay there…"
"Wondering is that all there is?"
She slapped him on the arm. "No, silly! I was going to say you lay there, basking in the afterglow and just feel so full of happiness, but you just ruined the mood."
"Like in the bad old days?" He lifted an eyebrow, half joking.
"There were a lot of good days too, Cole. It wasn't all bad." Sniffling, Phoebe curled up and felt his warm body and arms encircle her. "We could always do it again," she suggested, cocking a sly eyebrow at him.
"A-ha! I knew you just wanted me for the great sex."
"Who said it was great?" She stuck out her tongue and he retaliated immediately by groping her waist, sending her into a giggling hysteria, and they wrestled playfully until Phoebe cried out that; "it was great, it was great! Stop! It was the greatest!"
Satisfied with that, he let up and laughing they both sank back to catch their breaths.
He felt her body slowly relax; resting safely and contented in his arms. The scent of her hair filled his nostrils and he noted fondly that she would always smell like orange blossoms to him.
Once upon a time, when he was a little kid, they had been the flower every bride wore to her wedding, and beautiful orchards, full of trees with white, fragrant blossoms and golden oranges as far as the eye could see, had filled the sunny valleys around San Francisco – the scent sometimes overpowering on hot summer days.
Elizabeth had brought him with her a couple of times for week long visits to another seductress demon, who had married one of the wealthiest orchard owners in the area. Much later he had realized it was to try to help her get pregnant like Elizabeth herself had with him, but at the time he had been blissfully unaware of such machinations. Left without attention for most of the time, he had played happily in the orchards with all the white blossoms snowing around him and the fragrance of orange flowers filling the air; their scent forever associated with the freedom, light and happiness he had experienced. It was one of his precious few, happy memories from a childhood mostly filled with hate, darkness and violence. It seemed only fitting that it was the scent of Phoebe as well – although it had been quite a jolt when he felt it for the very first time; still completely clueless of what the future had in store for him.
For a while he lay very still, just enjoying the feel of the little witch on his arm; his light in the darkness of his long life. The thought of being with her again was beginning to take hold. Suddenly it was no longer a farfetched dream; a hope so faint it was almost no hope at all. If Phoebe really was falling back in love with him, then there was a good chance she would be able to break the curse.
"Cole… what I tried to say before," Phoebe interrupted his musings. "I do want to try to start over; a fresh start." Her eyes were alit with hope for the future, but his tired sigh almost blew it out.
"I'd like that too, and…I'm not going to lie to you, and pretend I don't want out of limbo; to be with you," he stated. "But I meant what I said before. You have to be sure, because I don't want to put us both through all that a second time." Heaving another sigh, he shifted so he could prop his head up on his hand. "Maybe it is better this way," he reasoned. "I've lost you so many times, Phoebe. I can't lose you again. I rather take what I can from what I've got and live with that."
Pouting, Phoebe curled up closer to him. She didn't want to have this conversation right now. "But you won't be alive," she insisted.
"I will be in love – it is almost the same thing."
"No…it isn't." She grabbed his hand, brought it to her lips to kiss.
"Where I will be, it makes a world of difference."
"And where will you be? Moping around in limbo, and I will be miserable too, and end up like that old, bitter crone that was the future me. That is a consequence too."
"It's never too late for love, Phoebe. It's just too late for me."
"Bullshit, Cole!" Annoyed with him, she propped herself up on an elbow, pulling out of his embrace. "You don't get to sacrifice yourself one more time for my sake. It's my turn now and you are damn well going to accept that I'm going out on a limb for you to rescue your sorry ass. And if you can't take being rescued by a witch because of some goddamn, macho demon shit, then it's just too bad, because that's what's going to happen." Her finger jabbed his chest several times to underscore her words.
"Whoa!" He held up his hands. "I'm all for it, but not to the cost of your life."
Phoebe gazed down at him, and then she started to laugh.
"What?"
"It's just; it used to be me telling you all that." With a sigh, she sank back down on his arm. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I didn't come here to argue with you. The whole point in coming here – wherever 'here' is – was to find out what's in my heart, not to tell you what is going to happen whether you like it or not."
"And did you find out?"
She looked up at his anticipating gaze. "Yes, I think I did." Seeing the glint in his eyes, she smiled. "It's crazy, I know that, Cole. There are so many questions. Is there a future for us? What is meant to be?"
He pondered that for a couple of seconds. "I think the real question is not if it is meant to be, but what we are meant to do with it," he finally said.
Suddenly she was pushing away from him. "I got to get out of here," she mumbled frantically, kicking at the satin covers to disentangle herself.
"Phoebe…?" Not sure what to make of it, Cole propped himself up on an elbow. "Was it something I said?"
Something in his voice made her stop and glance back at him over her shoulder – and her heart almost broke at the sight of the held back fear and anxiety in his eyes. "No!" Barefoot, she padded over the floor in search of something to put on, but her dress seemed to have disappeared. "Well, yes…but not like you think." For the lack of something better, she wrapped a blanket around her. "I just realized that I know what I'm meant to do with something, but I don't have much time to do it in. Please, don't ask me, Cole, because I can't explain. I have to wake up – now! How do I get back?"
"Same way you came in. The tricky thing is to find your way back. But you can probably twist the arm of the Gatekeeper a little for showing you the wrong door before. He's not evil, he just…is."
"Like Death?"
"That would be an accurate description." Pushing out of bed, he went to find his own clothes. Less surprised than Phoebe that the tux was gone, he waved his hand and his red dress shirt and black trousers reappeared.
Still not looking entirely convinced, Phoebe made a dubious face. "Okay. What if he tries to trick me again?"
He shoved his feet back in the shoes he had kicked off earlier. "Tell him I said I would stop by later."
There was a snorting sound as Phoebe tried to hold back a laugh. "You haven't changed a bit, Cole."
"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"
"In this case? Definitely a good thing, but I think it's work in progress." Chuckling, she wagged a finger at him, and pulled the door open, but there was just another room – no walkways or Gatekeeper. "Oh, no," she groaned. "I've missed the 25:th hour!"
No you didn't. What's going on?
"No worries," he said, too concerned to bother with buttoning his shirt. "There are other ways; you'll have to go to sleep."
She gave him a dubious look. "Huh?"
"In order for your astral body to get back into your real body, you need to dream that you fall asleep," he explained patiently.
Phoebe stared at him with beginning fright. "I can't go to sleep," she whispered.
"What do you mean 'can't'?"
"Because the Gatekeeper said I would forget everything that had happened before I woke up. If I can't remember…" Beginning to panic, she stared at him with eyes going wide with anxiety and fear. "If I can't remember, I can't help you!"
"Okay." He lifted a calming hand. "So you will have to stay here instead until you wake up. Then you will be drawn back, and there will be a window that allows you to remember – just like you can remember a dream."
"Yes, but…I…I…" Phoebe's cheeks blushed red like roses.
"Phoebe, what did you do?"
She raised her hands a little as if to ward off his penetrating stare. "I took this potion to help me get into the 25:th hour. It shouldn't have any effect past that," she hurried to add. "Except I'm not awake, and I ought to be."
Cole's eyes narrowed. "What kind of potion? What was in it?"
"Lot's of things; chamomile, poppy seeds, hemlock…"
"Hemlock? Crushed fresh, or crumbled dry leaves?"
"Crushed fresh. Why?"
"Then it's too potent." He shook his head. "No wonder you don't wake up. Please, tell me you used nightshade to counteract any side effects!"
"N-nightshade?" She blinked. "It wasn't in the recipe. But that's a poison, not an antidote."
Cole bit back a curse. "Witches shouldn't be allowed to trifle with dark potions," he snarled.
"And you're an expert?" she snapped; his sharp look making her look away and bite her lip. "Sorry."
"Do you realize that you have taken a potion that will keep you sleeping forever?" he asked angrily.
"Piper and Paige will…"
"No. You're stuck here!"
Consequences! The word burned in his mind like it was written in fire. Swallowing back, he tried to remain calm and think. He should have known something would come back to bite them in the butt.
"No!" Angry too, and scared, Phoebe threw open the door and ran out – and stopped dead in her tracks as she realized that she was running back into the room. Arms folded across his chest, Cole silently regarded her stunned face with a grim look. "No, no, no!" Panic rising, she turned and walked out the door slowly – same result. She even tried walking out backwards, but she still walked into the same room she was trying to leave. "What's happening, Cole?"
"You're caught in your own dream." He wanted to yell at her for being so foolhardy, but her scared look made him pull her into his embrace instead.
"Are you caught here too?" Her voice shook a little.
"No." He knew what she would say next, and braced for the answer he would have to give.
"Then you can go to my bedroom and wake me up."
Cole felt himself go stiff. "No, I can't."
"Can't or won't?" Phoebe snapped.
"Both. I'm not allowed to interfere in the human plane, remember? I've broken too many rules already."
"This is not a good time to argue about the fine prints in the rules, Cole."
"It's not exactly the time to go breaking them and attract attention either." Irritation growing, he swung around, started to pace. Consequences! "There may be someone who can help us," he muttered, eyes narrowing as he weighed the odds for that happening.
"Santa?" She gave him a hopeful look.
"The Gatekeeper." It was a long shot, but he decided it was worth a try. "Phoebe…I can't guarantee I can fix this…"
His ocean colored eyes searched out hers until she realized what he was saying. "Oh…I see." She swallowed. "Well, I hope he will be helpful then."
There was a glimmer of white teeth in a feral grin. "I can be very persuasive." Finding his coat, he shrugged into it, his mind already on his mission, when a lithe hand came to rest on his arm. Looking down, he saw that Phoebe was doing her best impression of being brave – except her anxiety was shining through in her eyes. "Let's not say goodbye," she suggested, putting on a brave smile. "Just kiss me and fade away – like you always do."
"You hate that."
"Yeah, but I hate saying goodbye to you more."
'Ditto', he thought, and complied with her wish.
The Gatekeeper gaped as Cole strode toward him. "Oi, how did you get back here? The 25:th hour is over! You can't be here!"
"Shut up, you little maggot!" he snarled as he advanced upon the gnome. "There's always a 25:th hour somewhere, and I have access to all of them, remember?" In a final long stride, he was upon the Gatekeeper; pushing aside his lantern to grab him by the rags that were wrapped around his body, lifting him off the floor. "You tried to send her into limbo! Now you'll tell me how to wake her up!"
"Pah! You know that won't work with me. She was doomed when she came here – see. I thought I was doing you both a service since she's here to stay anyway."
"She's not staying here!" Cole snarled, pushing the other away from him.
"Then you two shouldn't have meddled in business best left untouched." The Gatekeeper dabbed at his garments. "The curse on you won't allow for it – see?"
"I don't care about the curse. All I care about is getting Phoebe out of here and you're going to help me – see? I want you to open the door to her dream so she can return to her body and wake up."
"Forget it! Even if I wanted to I can't, because the door has already been destroyed."
"Then re-make it!"
"You know I can't do that. And don't try to threaten me!" he added hastily as Cole advanced on him with an energy ball ready and nothing nice in his look. "You know there's nothing you can do to hurt me."
For a moment holy wrath flared up in Cole's eyes, then he seemed to compose himself and extinguished the energy ball. "Oh, I'm not going to hurt you," he assured the other with a dangerous smile. "I'll just… Let's see…" He pointed at a door and waved his finger at it. The door obediently disappeared.
"What are you doing?" Suddenly a trifle nervous, the Gatekeeper scuttled up to him. "Put it back!"
"What? You mean like this?" He waved again, but while the empty spot once again held a door, it wasn't the same as before.
"Not like that! What did you do? " The Gatekeeper complained loudly.
"I put the door back," Cole offered innocently. "Wasn't it good?"
"It's the wrong door!"
"Is it?" He pursed his lips. "Looks better though. Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters! If you move the doors around there will be no order, no…" He stopped, horrified at the grin on the former half demon's face. "Put them back!" the Gatekeeper ordered with as much dignity and power as he could muster, which was quite a lot, but Cole merely leaned back against the banister.
"Well, I could, but I have no idea where that one came from. Maybe from over there." He gestured and suddenly a third door appeared instead.
"Nooo!" the Gatekeeper howled. "Stop!"
"Why? This is getting quite fun." Aiming at a new door, he started to wiggle his finger. "Maybe if I try disappearing this one, it will end up in the same place as the first, making it return. Only, I wouldn't know where this one went." Chuckling, he shrugged, but before he could spirit it away, the Gatekeeper brought his arm down.
"Please, stop!" he begged pitifully. "You will send everything into chaos."
Folding his arms in front of him, Cole looked the other squarely into the gnarled face. "Do I look like I care?"
"But…but… don't you care what will happen?" the Gatekeeper sputtered, in shock and outrage. "There will be punishments!"
"What else can they do to me? In any case, you're the one left with the cleaning up." Swinging away, he took new aim. "I wonder if I can do ten doors at once."
"No!"
"Or twenty?"
"A kiss!"
Cole stopped in mid-motion. "I beg your pardon?"
"A kiss," the distraught being repeated miserably.
"Sorry, you're not really my type," he said, but the Gatekeeper had his full attention now.
"It takes a kiss of true love to break any such spell. Haven't you ever heard of Sleeping Beauty?"
Pursing his lips in mock thoughtfulness, Cole pretended to ponder that. "I may have slept with her once, but as far as reading fairytales at bedtime, Elizabeth chose from a whole different genre – if she chose to read to me at all that is. She wasn't exactly Mother of the Century if you know what I mean. Or of the year, or even of the day, but I'm digressing. What was that about kissing Sleeping Beauty?"
Defeated and deflated, the Gatekeeper hunched his shoulders. "It takes a kiss of True Love to wake her up – but it will prove to be a bit of a problem for you since you're not allowed to interact with the mortals. They will ban you from that plane forever."
Cole scowled. "Let me worry about that part. Will she remember anything of this when she wakes up?"
The Gatekeeper shrugged. "They never do. Hey!" Grimacing he watched the empty spot where Cole had stood. "You could have replaced the doors first," he muttered.
Lips pressed together, Cole shimmered into her bedroom in the Halliwell manor. It was eerily familiar and just as quiet. Phoebe's body was in the bed, breathing so lightly it was barely noticeable. Her suntanned skin looked deathly pale in the light from the snowy window, lending the room a disturbing air of a mausoleum with Phoebe Halliwell on lit de parade.
Slowly approaching, Cole leaned down over her. Wasn't it ironic, he thought; now when she finally wanted him back, he would have to make a choice that would either stick her in limbo with him, or put them right back where they were.
Letting go a sigh, he looked down at his very own Sleeping Beauty and thought that even if Phoebe couldn't help him out, he had still received the best Christmas gift ever – probably the last he would ever get – one that would have to last him an eternity. But maybe one day…
I have time to wait…
In fact, time was all he had. All the time in the world.
With a loving look, he placed a soft hand on her cheek and slowly bent down to kiss her tenderly, putting all his love for her in that one touch of his lips against hers.
A faint draft swept through the room, and he felt her inhale deeply as the spell was broken. "Goodbye, Phoebe," he whispered, drawing away. "I'll be right here, in the 'tweens; that's where I'll always be. That's where I'll always love you."
There was another draft through the room, this one making the curtains flutter.
In the living room, the old grandfather's clock struck one.
Blue December
Empty street
Freezing feet
Walking slowly, alone
This Blue December should be
Shimmering and bright
Well, maybe some day
But for now it's only a dream
So for now, I can only dream
Blue December -Sjöberg/Forsberg/Wastesson/Bylund