Here's a disclaimer that I haven't seen seasons 7 and 8 (except for the series finale), and I don't understand why it is that Leo gets old…is he still a whitelighter? Can he still orb? For the purposes of this story, Leo is still a whitelighter, and he is aging with Piper, and if that's not canon…well, neither is this story. :-) This chapter is mainly filler; the plot doesn't much move at all, and it's completely not on my outline...which only means that this is going to go on longer than I originally thought. Pretend to be happy now, okay? Thanks again for all the reviews; happy reading!

"We just got a little lost, that's all and took some time to find our way back." –Chris, "Soul Survivor"

Chris pulled his hand away from Victor gently, and went to the door of the coffee shop. He felt Victor's eyes on his back, but if he didn't do this now, he was more likely to orb to Florida and tell the elders and everyone else out there that they were going to do things his way, or no way at all. He was getting pretty sick of the Powers That Be meddling in everything.

Outside, he didn't spot Leo immediately in front of the shop, and he felt a little foolish standing there. But he knew Victor had been telling the truth. It was impossible for him to be there otherwise.

He looked around, at the Chinese restaurant on the corner and the little alternative bookstore across the street and, and then he saw him. Leo was facing away from him, across the street, looking into the window of the bookstore. His hair had grayed, and he looked more like the father Chris remembered from his own childhood and less like the young elder he had met, and fought with, here in this timeline.

He cleared his throat a bit uneasily, and crossed the street carefully. "Hey," he said, when he got there.

Leo spun around and looked at him, and Chris saw his eyes widen. It didn't really stun him anymore that he was still stuck at 23, but looking at the way Victor and Leo had both been changed in that time, he knew it was shocking. He probably looked to Leo exactly as he had when he had died. He pushed that back out of his mind.

"Victor says you've come to take me home." He folded his arms over his chest, then realized it would seem defensive, which it was, but he straightened them anyway and held them awkwardly next to his body.

"You look good," Leo said, and reached out with what seemed to be an aborted hug that ended with him patting him on the shoulder instead.

"I work out," Chris said dryly, and fidgeted under the touch. When Leo didn't respond to his little attempt at a joke, he said, "I, um, guess I need to pack or something," and surprised himself with how easy it was to agree to come home. So far, June had been right.

"Right," Leo said, and looked relieved. "Did you leave your grandfather in the coffee shop?"

"Yeah, he's there. He said he wasn't too thrilled about the orbing." Chris offered him a small smile.

Leo chuckled. "He says that every time."

They crossed the street in silence and found Victor with a fresh cup of tea, sitting right where Chris had left him.

"Chris needs some time to pack," Leo said. "So once you finish that," he gestured at the cup, "we can go do that."

Victor nodded, but said, "Maybe you guys should go. I'm too old for heavy lifting. I'll be fine waiting here."

Chris recognized the attempt to give him time alone with Leo, but he was didn't want Leo up in his apartment, and he wasn't ready for too much time alone, not just yet. He wasn't ready for the conversations that he was sure would arise.

"That's okay," he cut in before Leo could say anything, "I can handle it on my own. It won't take long."

He left the coffee shop again before they could say anything further, and when he was out of site, orbed back to his apartment. He grabbed a duffle bag and filled it with the clothes he had a collected, a few books, and a toothbrush and other toiletries. The dishes and furniture he had gotten second or third hand and had no particular attachment to. He wrote a note out for his land lord and left the keys on the small kitchenette counter, made sure the apartment was locked, and orbed back to the coffee shop.

It was just that easy to leave another life behind. He tried not to think about it, just like he was trying not to think about the last time he'd seen Leo, and all the reasons he had given himself for staying away.

Leo took Chris's spot at the little table after he'd gone and looked at Victor across the table. His head was spinning after only a few moments with his son. He was disappointed that Chris didn't look happier to see him, but he had already known that would be the case. He was surprised, too, that there hadn't even been an argument, just the simple announcement that he was finally going to come home. Leo knew it wouldn't be the end of it, but they could deal with that as it came up. For now, he looked over at his father-in-law with a new respect. Only a few minutes and the son that had been gone for years was finally coming home.

"How'd you get him to agree to come home?" he asked.

"I told him he should," Victor said, stirring his tea. "That did occur to you, right?"

Leo tried to imagine that conversation between Chris and himself, and no matter how it played out in his mind, it didn't turn out quite so positively.

He stared at Victor across the table. "He always got along better with you."

Victor smiled a wide, beaming smile. "I was the good grandfather, in Chris's other life. It makes it easy."

"I'll say." Leo drummed his fingers against the table.

"You know," Victor said, "you really just need to sit him down and make him talk to you. You guys were pretty close at the end. You can get that back."

Leo turned to watch the door, eager to see Chris walk back in, and trying not to think about him disappearing again instead of returning to the coffee shop. "I hope so," he said, just as he saw Chris reenter the shop, with a single duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief. He thought he heard Victor do the same.

"Where's the rest of it?" he asked once Chris had approached the table.

"The rest of what?"

"Your stuff." He pointed at the bag. "You've been here a while. You must have more than that. The girls collect at least that much in a week."

Chris dropped the bag by his feet. "That's all there is," he said evenly.

Leo looked up into his face, and despite still looking physically in his twenties, his eyes were tired, more so almost than he remembered, and that had a been a Chris with the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. This was a different kind of weight, and Leo had an inkling of what it consisted of, if ten years in hiding were anything to judge by, but he knew it was more than that. He wished he could take the weight, no matter the cause, and shoulder it himself. Instead, he did what he could; he picked up the duffle bag and stood up next to his son.

"Ready?" he asked.

Chris looked hesitant, and Victor looked vaguely nauseous, but they both nodded their consent.