Charmed: Elizabeth Turner

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Born with a sense of otherness, Elizabeth 'Buffy' Turner navigates her dual nature as a half-demon alongside her brother Cole, training rigorously to harness her powers while yearning for a life beyond servitude to the dark forces shaping their destiny.

8. Chapter 8: Blinded by the Whitelighter

Chapter 8: Blinded by the Whitelighter

January 26, 1998 – Monday

Halliwell Manor

Buffy sat at the kitchen table; her gaze fixed on the activity unfolding before her. The morning light filtered through the windows, casting a soft, golden hue over the room, but it did little to dispel the tension Buffy felt. She had told Joyce that she was spending a couple of days visiting friends. The truth was, she wasn't ready to return to Sunnydale yet; the thought of facing Angelus and the aftermath of their confrontation was too daunting.

At the counter, Prue and Piper were immersed in the process of making a potion. Prue meticulously measured out ingredients, while Piper kept a careful eye on the bubbling concoction. The kitchen was filled with an odd assortment of smells and sounds, a sensory reminder of the magical world that had become intertwined with their lives.

"One teaspoon of baking powder," Piper instructed, her voice steady as she poured the powder into the cauldron. The fine white substance blended with the other ingredients, making a small cloud of dust.

"One teaspoon bat guano," Prue added with a touch of dramatic flair. She stirred the mixture vigorously. "Ooh-hoo. It's starting to bubble." Her eyes sparkled with a mix of fascination and anticipation as the potion began to froth and hiss.

"And stink," Piper said, wrinkling her nose as a pungent odor filled the air. She shot a sidelong glance at Prue. "Couldn't you have made that potion after breakfast?"

"No, I'm sorry," Prue said with a hint of apology in her tone. "But Phoebe has that important meeting with the D.A. Investigator. I didn't want her to go there unarmed." She glanced at Leo, who had just entered the kitchen, his presence bringing a different kind of warmth to the room.

"Morning," Leo greeted, rubbing his eyes as he took in the scene before him. "Whoa, what is that smell?"

"That would be the lovely smell of Piper's breakfast," Buffy quipped, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.

"Hope you're hungry," Piper added, her tone matching Buffy's playful sarcasm.

"Uh, starving," Leo said, his expression brightening as he took in the scent of breakfast, despite its overpowering competition.

"Probably 'cause you missed dinner last night," Piper said, her voice carrying a note of gentle reproach.

"Piper, I already said I was sorry I was late, okay?" Leo replied, raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "It's not like I was out carousing with the boys. I was out being a force of good in the universe." He flashed a sheepish smile, though the exhaustion in his eyes betrayed the truth of a long, demanding night.

"A true force of good would have called or at least orbed," Piper said with a tinge of frustration in her voice, her gaze fixed on Leo. The air was thick with the lingering scent of the potion, mingling with the scents of breakfast.

"I couldn't," Leo replied, his expression a mix of regret and defensiveness. "Not under the circumstances."

"Which were?" Piper asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

"Work-related, which means I can't talk about it," Leo said, his tone apologetic yet firm. Buffy, seated at the kitchen table, rolled her eyes slightly. "Anything that happens between me and a charge is confidential. You know that."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Piper retorted, her irritation evident as she accidentally nicked her finger with the knife she was using to chop vegetables. "Ow!"

"Oh, let me see that," Leo said swiftly, moving to Piper's side. He held his hand over her finger, his expression softening as he channeled his healing power. The cut closed up almost instantly, leaving behind only a faint pink mark.

"You know, this all for the good of mankind stuff really puts me in an awful position," Piper said, her voice carrying a mixture of resignation and frustration. "I have no choice but to be understanding."

"You just have to accept that you're engaged to somebody that works for the CIA," Leo said, trying to lighten the mood with a wry smile.

"Oh," Piper groaned at the analogy, clearly not finding it as humorous as Leo had intended. Her shoulders, though tensed with ongoing frustration, seemed to relax slightly, though the remnants of her exasperation lingered in her posture.

Phoebe strolled in, her face alight with curiosity, her eyes sparkling with interest. "Wait, you work for the CIA?" she asked Leo, her expression one of genuine surprise as she took in this unexpected revelation.

"You know," Prue interjected, her gaze momentarily drifting to her younger sister's newly blonde hair with a hint of amusement, "ever since you became a blonde…" Her voice trailed off with an unspoken commentary, her eyes betraying a mix of playful teasing and familial affection.

"I take offense to that," Buffy said, her tone light but tinged with mock indignation as she ran a hand through her own blonde locks. Her gesture was both a defense of her own hair color and a subtle nod to the camaraderie among them.

"Do you want something to eat before your meeting with Reece?" Piper asked Phoebe, her voice returning to its practical tone, though a note of concern lingered as she studied her sister's anxious demeanor.

"Not hungry, too nervous," Phoebe replied, her voice tinged with a sense of apprehension that seemed to wrap around her like a tangible cloak.

Prue, always prepared, handed Phoebe a small vial of potion with a practiced hand. "Alright, well, this will help with your nerves. Just a drop in Reece's coffee, and it will reveal any demon within him. The reaction will cause his throat to constrict, and as he's choking, you make your escape. Got it?"

"Please tell me you don't ever plan to put that in my coffee," Buffy interjected, her tone a mixture of concern and curiosity as she cast a wary glance at the vial.

"Why would we?" Piper responded, her tone both matter-of-fact and slightly exasperated. She fixed her gaze on Buffy with a raised eyebrow, the unspoken understanding between them palpable. "We already know you're a demon. And we wouldn't have allowed you to stay with us these past few days if you hadn't made significant strides in earning our trust."

"Thanks," Buffy replied, her voice carrying a note of genuine appreciation.

"I hadn't even considered that Reece might be evil." Phoebe accepted the potion from Prue, her expression shifting from apprehensive to relieved as she realized the gravity of the situation had been somewhat mitigated.

"Then why are you so nervous?" Prue asked, her tone softening with concern as she directed her attention to her youngest sister.

"Uh, because he's probing into Cole's disappearance," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with a mix of anxiety and resignation. "I'm not exactly looking forward to being grilled about Cole, you know?" She glanced at Buffy, her gaze reflecting a shared burden. "Speaking of which, he's been asking to see you as well."

"Dang," Buffy groaned, her frustration palpable as she slumped slightly in her chair. "Just what I need— a DA investigator questioning me about the location of my brother." Her tone carried the weight of both personal and emotional strain, the thought of being pulled into the investigation adding another layer of stress to her already complicated life.

"I just can't wait for this investigation to be over," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and fatigue. The weight of the ongoing scrutiny seemed to bear down on her, making each day feel longer and more burdensome.

"It will be over soon," Piper reassured her, her tone carrying a blend of optimism and resolve. "It has to be. There's nothing to find." Her words were meant to offer comfort and a sense of certainty, but the undercurrent of worry was still present in her gaze.

"Is there?" Prue asked, casting a concerned glance at Buffy. The question hung in the air, a silent inquiry into whether there were hidden truths yet to be uncovered.

"As long as Cole is careful, there shouldn't be," Buffy replied, her voice steady but tinged with a note of caution.

Streets of San Francisco

A witch, her breath ragged and fear etched across her face, sprinted down the narrow alley, her footsteps echoing off the grimy brick walls. Her pursuer, a warlock cloaked in dark robes, pounded after her with relentless determination. With a menacing snarl, he hurled a blazing fireball toward her. The fiery orb cut through the air with a hiss, but the witch, summoning all her strength, raised her hand and deflected the searing heat with a shimmer of magical energy.

"You can't hurt me. I can deflect your power," the witch called out, her voice tinged with a mix of defiance and exhaustion. Her eyes, wide with desperation, remained focused on her assailant.

"All of them?" the warlock taunted, his voice dripping with malevolent satisfaction. With a flick of his wrist, he launched another fireball, its flames dancing dangerously close to her. Again, she deflected the attack, the air crackling with the clash of magical forces. However, the warlock's own fireball, redirected by the powerful energies in play, ricocheted back toward him. In a horrifying twist of fate, it struck him directly, engulfing him in an inferno that consumed him in a blinding flash. With a final, agonized cry, he was vanquished, leaving only the faint scent of charred magic lingering in the air.

"Thank God," the witch murmured, her voice a breathless sigh of relief. She stumbled, barely able to catch her breath, the threat seemingly over. But just as the tension began to ease, a chilling presence materialized behind her.

The warlock, somehow not entirely vanquished, reappeared from the shadows. His malevolent grin was now accompanied by a glinting dagger, which he pressed against the witch's throat with a swift, cruel motion. "You know," he sneered, his voice low and sinister, "the ability to clone myself is just one of the powers I've amassed over my years of hunting and killing witches. And now, I'm about to add one more to my collection."

Before she could react, he plunged the dagger into her side. The sharp blade cut through her flesh with ease, and as he twisted it, he siphoned her power with a dark, malevolent force. The witch's eyes widened in shock and pain as she crumpled to the ground, her strength rapidly ebbing away.

Natalie, the witch's Whitelighter, materialized with a burst of shimmering light. Her eyes widened in horror as she rushed to the fallen witch, her heart pounding with the urgency of her mission. "No!" Natalie cried out, her voice cracking with anguish.

"You're too late, Whitelighter," the warlock's voice echoed coldly as he stepped back, his form blurring as he prepared to vanish. "Your charge is dead. I'll see you later." With a final, taunting smile, he blinked out of the alley, leaving Natalie alone with the lifeless body of her charge and the weight of the grim reality that lay before her.

Halliwell Manor

Piper and Leo sat at the dining room table, the morning light streaming through the windows and casting a warm glow over their breakfast spread. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of toasted bagels, creating a cozy, domestic scene. Despite the tranquility, an undercurrent of tension simmered beneath their conversation.

Piper pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at Leo, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and frustration. "So, I've got lunch with this guy from the Chronicle who wants to do a story on the club, and then I've got a meeting with these dot com startup guys that want to do an internet thingy," she said, her tone brisk as she laid out her busy day. "What are you doing today?"

Leo offered a noncommittal smile. "You know, just the usual," he replied, his attempt at casualness not quite reaching his eyes.

Piper narrowed her gaze, her curiosity piqued. "Care to elaborate?" she pressed, leaning forward slightly as if trying to coax more information out of him.

Leo sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. "Piper…" he began, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"Oh, come on. Just a few details, a tidbit," Piper said, her tone turning playful as she tried to lighten the mood. "It's not like I'm asking for state secrets."

Leo shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "It's against the rules," he said, his voice softening as he looked at her with a mix of affection and regret.

"Rules. Yes, see, this is my problem," Piper said, her tone shifting to one of frustration. "Every time I turn around, we seem to be violating some stupid Whitelighter ordinance." She stabbed her fork into a piece of fruit with more force than necessary, her irritation evident.

"We just have to be careful as long as we're under probation," Leo said, his voice calm and reassuring, though the weight of their predicament was clear in his eyes.

"Which is never-ending," Piper countered, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't know, Leo. I don't think they're ever gonna let us get married." Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the depth of her worry.

"They will. They have to. Nothing is gonna keep us apart, I promise," Leo said, his voice filled with unwavering conviction as he leaned in to kiss Piper. Their lips were mere inches away when suddenly, a shimmering light filled the room and Natalie orbed in, interrupting them.

"Aah!" Piper cried out in surprise, pulling back abruptly.

"Natalie!" Leo exclaimed, recognizing the familiar figure standing before them.

"Leo. Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a major problem on our hands," Natalie said urgently, holding an athame in her hand, its blade glinting ominously.

"Hey, I heard something…" Prue said as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes widened as she spotted Natalie and the athame. "Ooh! Athame! Athame!" She instinctively got ready to attack Natalie, her powers surging to the forefront.

"No, no, no. It's okay, she's a Whitelighter," Leo said quickly, stepping between Prue and Natalie. "Natalie and I go way back. We were rookies together. Actually, we fought together in World War II."

"All your charges need to know is I'm a Whitelighter," Natalie told Leo, her tone curt and business-like. "This is not a social call. I've come to warn the Charmed Ones that a warlock just killed my most powerful charge with this athame."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Leo said, his face softening with sympathy.

"Thank you," Natalie replied, her eyes momentarily clouding with grief. "The real tragedy is that it didn't have to happen. I warned her to lay low, and she didn't listen. She always refused to let her magic interfere with her life, and now a warlock has her power of deflection."

"Deflection," Prue echoed, her mind racing as she connected the dots. "Wait a minute, does this mean he could deflect our powers?"

"Yes, which is why all Whitelighters have been put on alert," Natalie confirmed, her expression grim.

"We have? Why didn't I hear about this?" Leo asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Because you missed this morning's staff meeting," Natalie replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

"You have staff meetings?" Piper asked Leo, her eyes widening with surprise.

"With mandatory attendance," Natalie added, her expression stern.

"Unless a charge is in need, which Piper was. I had to heal her," Leo explained, glancing at Piper for confirmation.

Piper held up her finger, still bearing a faint mark from the earlier cut. "Right."

Natalie's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'll assume a demon attacked your finger, since healing is restricted to such circumstances."

Leo's face hardened with determination. "I believe the Charmed Ones deserve special attention."

"I've heard rumors about such special attention, and honestly, Leo…" Natalie began, her tone shifting to one of exasperation. Suddenly, she and Leo switched to speaking in the rapid, melodic clicks and trills of the Whitelighter language, their voices rising and falling in a rhythmic cadence.

"Whitelighter-ese?" Prue muttered to Piper, raising an eyebrow in bewilderment. Both sisters strained to catch any familiar words amidst the foreign sounds.

As the incomprehensible exchange continued, Piper and Prue caught occasional fragments, with Piper's name surfacing now and then amidst the flow of Whitelighter speech.

"Well, I guess we know what they're talking about," Piper said, her tone laced with a mix of frustration and resignation, glancing at Prue.

"All right, you guys can," Prue said, mimicking the rapid clicks and trills of the Whitelighter language, "all you want. Me, I'm gonna look in the Book of Shadows, okay?"

"I'll go with you. I need to look at the warlock. I might be able to identify him," Natalie responded, her tone shifting to a more cooperative one.

"Oh, alright. Well, it's up in the attic," Prue said, turning toward the stairs.

"Attic? You mean the altar room, don't you? The rules are very clear. Every witch must keep their Book of Shadows in a sacred and protected spot," Natalie said, her voice carrying a hint of reprimand.

"Right, of course," Prue replied, rolling her eyes slightly at Natalie's rigidity.

"Maybe you can bring the Book down here?" Leo suggested, glancing at Prue with a hopeful look.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll just run up to the altar room, which by the way, is right next to the potion lab, and I'll be right back," Prue said with a hint of sarcasm as she made her way to the stairs.

As Prue ascended the staircase, Leo picked up a piece of fruit from the table. Natalie's eyes narrowed, and she launched into a rapid-fire scolding in the Whitelighter language. Leo sighed and glanced at Piper. "Not supposed to eat on the job," he translated with a wry smile.

Diner

Phoebe and Buffy settled into a booth at a cozy diner, the kind with red vinyl seats and a gleaming chrome counter that seemed to encapsulate the essence of mid-century charm. They sat across from Reece Davidson, the District Attorney inspector who was currently the center of their focus.

"You sure you two don't want something to eat?" Reece asked, his gaze flicking between them with a hint of curiosity. His tone was polite but carried an underlying edge, as if he were trying to gauge their reactions.

"No," Buffy replied, her tone clipped but neutral. She had confided in Phoebe earlier that she couldn't confirm or deny whether Reece was a demon.

"No, I'm fine," Phoebe echoed, though she hesitated for a moment before adding, "Uh, actually, I would like a bagel, if that's okay. Thanks." She offered a polite smile to Reece, masking the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.

Reece nodded, his attention shifting as he turned his back on Phoebe and Buffy to catch the eye of a passing waitress. "Uh, excuse me, miss. Could we get another bagel, please?" he asked, his voice carrying the kind of practiced politeness that came with years of dealing with service staff.

As he engaged in this brief conversation with the waitress, Phoebe seized the opportunity. With a swift, almost imperceptible motion, she poured a small vial of potion into Reece's coffee. The liquid swirled and mixed seamlessly with the dark brew, a subtle but potent addition.

Reece returned his focus to Phoebe and Buffy, settling back into his seat with an air of casual interest. "It's a nice place," he commented, glancing around at the bustling diner. "Crowded too. I guess that's why you two picked it. Makes me think you're afraid of something."

He took a sip of his coffee, and an immediate, involuntary cough escaped him. "Allergies," he muttered, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his composure. "So, are you?"

"Are we what?" Buffy asked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she leaned forward slightly, trying to read his intentions.

"Afraid," Reece clarified, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied their reactions.

"Afraid of Cole? No. Why should we be?" Phoebe asked, her voice steady but with a note of defensiveness. She tried to project calm, though her heart raced with the stress of the encounter.

"Well, several reasons," Reece replied smoothly, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Not the least of which is that he's a fraud, or rather, a man who exists only on paper."

"Only on paper?" Buffy said, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. Her voice was laced with disbelief, as if the notion of her brother being a mere figment of bureaucratic imagination was both absurd and deeply troubling. "Are you insinuating that my brother is not a real person?"

Reece's expression remained an impenetrable mask of calm, honed over years of dealing with various cases. His eyes, however, were sharp and piercing as they locked onto Buffy's with a cold, assessing gaze. He took another deliberate sip of his coffee, the movement almost deliberate as he used the moment to compose himself before continuing. "I'm just saying that Cole wormed his way into the DA office for reasons unknown, and it appears he has a very dark side." With a practiced flick of his wrist, he pulled out a photograph and slid it across the table. The image showed Cole's altar, its sinister contents stark against the background of what seemed to be blood stains on a carpet and a hidden cabinet brimming with occult paraphernalia. "We found blood stains on his carpet and a hidden cabinet full of occult paraphernalia. Now, you're telling me you two don't know anything about this?"

Phoebe's heart raced, but she forced herself to maintain a calm facade. "No… I mean, yes. I don't know about any of this," she said, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

"Neither do I," Buffy echoed, her own voice steady but with an underlying tension. Both women knew the lies they were telling but hoped to deflect suspicion.

Reece's gaze remained unwavering, his voice dropping to a low, insinuating tone. "Look, Miss Halliwell, Miss Turner, I think you both know more than you're letting on. But it seems to me that you're scared. You're afraid that if I find out the truth, you two are going to get in trouble. Am I right?"

Buffy stood up, her movements deliberate as she and Phoebe exchanged a quick glance. "Look," she said, her tone firm but weary, "we wish we could help you, but we can't. We don't know where my brother is at the moment."

Reece's demeanor shifted slightly, his expression hardening as he leaned forward. "Uh, listen. Cole's the kind of man who knows how to cover his tracks, okay? If he's alive and you two know something, he could hurt you both."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, her face a mask of defiant frustration. "You're saying my younger brother, my baby brother, could hurt me?" Her voice was edged with both anger and hurt. "I think I know Cole better than you do, Inspector." With that, she turned on her heel and followed Phoebe out of the diner, her mind racing as the door swung closed behind them, shutting out the last of the diner's ambient noise and leaving behind a charged silence.

Halliwell Manor

Prue and Piper were sitting on the plush couch in the conservatory, the warm morning light streaming through the glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the pages of the Book of Shadows. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers, a faint but comforting reminder of nature's resilience even amidst their turbulent lives. Leo and Natalie stood nearby, their presence a mix of support and vigilance.

"The power of deflection is a witch's best shield against the forces of darkness," Prue read aloud, her voice steady as she traced her finger over the ancient, intricate script.

"Unless the forces of darkness already have it, in which case, it's the great shield against us," Piper continued, her tone edged with a mixture of frustration and concern.

"Alright, how did he get close enough to get it from such a powerful witch?" Prue asked, her brows knitting together in thought.

"Maybe he wasn't working alone," Piper suggested, glancing up from the Book to meet her sister's gaze.

"Or maybe he possesses the power…" Leo began, his voice trailing off as he looked at Natalie.

"Cloning. I was just thinking the same thing," Natalie finished for Leo, her expression one of grim realization.

"The ability to duplicate oneself, but…" Leo said, his tone thoughtful.

"It can't be sustained for long periods of time," Natalie added, her voice firm, betraying years of experience and countless battles.

Piper couldn't help but smirk, a hint of sarcasm coloring her words. "That's cute how you guys finish each other's sentences."

Natalie gave a small, tight-lipped smile. "Happens when you work with someone for as long as we have."

"I see that," Piper replied.

"Maybe we should check the Book. See if the warlock stole the cloning power too," Leo suggested, his brow furrowing with concern.

"Alright, cross-reference cloning with warlock," Prue instructed, her voice calm but focused. With a flick of her wrist, the pages of the Book of Shadows began to flip on their own, guided by her telekinesis. The rustle of ancient paper filled the room, a soothing yet urgent sound, until the pages settled on an entry.

"Here it is. A warlock named Eames," Prue said, her eyes scanning the text. "Seems that, uh, ten years ago, he murdered a witch in Glasgow and stole her power of cloning. Do you recognize him?" She turned the book slightly towards Natalie.

"That's him," Natalie confirmed, her face darkening with recognition and anger.

"Uh, well, cloning and deflection are not his only tricks. It says here that Eames also killed a witch in Kenya in '89 and took the power of transmogrification," Prue continued, her voice tense as she read aloud.

"Trans what?" Piper asked, her confusion evident.

"The ability to change shape or form," Leo and Natalie answered in unison, their voices blending together seamlessly.

"Okay, so, uh, what's his master plan?" Prue asked, her mind already working to piece together the puzzle.

"What makes you think he has one?" Natalie countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, the time and geography between kills suggest that he was hunting these particular witches, right? It's not sport, it's strategy," Prue said, her analytical mind dissecting the information. "He's been collecting specific powers for a reason."

"So, all we have to do to catch him is to figure out what that plan is and then beat him to the punch," Piper said, determination hardening her voice.

"Right, or we can try and take him out first before he even has a chance," Prue agreed, her eyes gleaming with determination.

"Leo, we should discuss the best way to approach this situation," Natalie said, her tone professional and insistent. She then turned to Prue and Piper. "I mean, in private, if you wouldn't mind going into another room, please."

Piper's eyes narrowed. "Or how about this idea?" With a flick of her hand, Natalie froze in place, her stern expression locked in mid-sentence.

Prue grinned, clearly amused. "Hmm!"

"Piper, what are you doing?" Leo asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disapproval.

"Getting irritated. Who put Lady Attitude in charge?" Piper asked, her frustration bubbling over.

"She's not in charge," Leo replied, trying to keep the peace.

"Really? 'Cause she's acting like it. I thought Whitelighters were supposed to guide, not dictate," Piper said, her voice edged with sarcasm and anger.

"She is just trying to help," Leo insisted, though his tone was less confident now.

"By what?" Prue interjected; her tone sharp. "Slowing us down and second-guessing us?"

"Introducing the concept of caution and organization into the manor isn't a bad idea," Leo said, his tone measured. "Natalie's considered one of the top Whitelighters up there."

"Oh, I bet they love her. She's never met a rule she didn't like," Piper retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Leo, we already have a Whitelighter. Besides, I don't really like anybody who doesn't trust us," Prue added, her eyes narrowing with frustration.

"You've misread her," Leo countered gently. "Natalie is cautious because she just lost a charge and she's worried the same thing is gonna happen to you. You can't question her heart."

"Okay, how about everything else?" Piper asked, crossing her arms defiantly.

"I'll talk to her. Now please, would you unfreeze her?" Leo asked, his expression pleading.

"Sure," Piper said, exhaling sharply as she headed for the kitchen. As she passed Natalie, she casually unfroze her. "There you go," she said, continuing her path into the kitchen.

Natalie blinked, momentarily disoriented. "Wait a minute, what's going on?"

"I gotta go talk to Piper," Leo said, moving towards the kitchen.

"Leo," Natalie called, her voice tinged with exasperation.

"I'll be right back," Leo responded, his tone soothing as he walked into the kitchen.

Prue turned to Natalie with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Piper froze ya," she said, unable to hide her amusement.

"She—she what?" Natalie stammered, her eyes widening in shock.

Prue's grin widened, reveling in the moment. "Yep."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Hey, you want to freeze me in bed for your own personal pleasure, that is fine, but freezing Natalie is not gonna make her or the Elders happy," Leo said, his voice edged with frustration as he fixed his gaze on Piper. She stood behind the kitchen island, her posture tense, hands gripping the edge as if it were her lifeline.

Piper's eyes flashed with irritation. "Well, I'm sorry, but how do you think I feel listening to you two clickety-clack about work when you don't tell me anything?" she retorted, her tone sharp and tinged with a mixture of hurt and exasperation. "I mean, she clearly knows things about you that I don't."

Leo sighed, a flicker of resignation in his eyes. "She's an old friend," he said, his voice softening slightly, as if trying to bridge the gap between them with his words.

"Well, obviously," Piper shot back, her sarcasm thinly veiled.

"Come on, you're not jealous, are you?" Leo inquired, raising an eyebrow in a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Because there is nothing…"

"Leo, I'm not jealous of her," Piper interrupted, her voice rising with a blend of frustration and desperation. "I'm jealous of the part of your life she gets to share with you that I don't. You know, like where you go all day, who your other charges are, what it's like up there."

"I've taken you up there before," Leo reminded her, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness.

"Once, and I don't even get to remember it," Piper said, her words tumbling out with a mix of bitterness and yearning. "It's just more rules. More stupid rules that exclude me, unlike you and Natalie, who literally speak the same language with each other."

Leo shook his head, attempting to dismiss her concerns with a wave of his hand. "It is just boring shop talk," he said, his voice laced with a touch of dismissal, as if he hoped to deflect the gravity of the situation.

"It's secrets," Piper said, her voice steady but laden with an undercurrent of intensity. "And if there's one thing I learned as a Halliwell, it's that you don't keep secrets from the people you love. It only drives wedges between you and the ones you care about."

Before Leo could respond, the room was suddenly filled with a shimmer of light, and Buffy materialized beside Phoebe. "Hi," Buffy greeted, her voice a blend of warmth and casualness as she acknowledged the Whitelighter and Piper.

Phoebe, ever perceptive, immediately noticed the charged atmosphere between Leo and Piper. Her gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing slightly. "Are we interrupting something?" she asked, her tone a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Yes," Piper said curtly, her expression a mix of frustration and resignation.

"No," Leo said, his voice carrying a note of tension as he attempted to defuse the situation.

Piper's eyes flicked between her sister and the half-demon Slayer, her curiosity momentarily shifting. "How did your thing go with the investigator?" she asked, her tone betraying a hint of impatience as she sought a distraction from the brewing conflict.

"He's not a demon," Buffy replied, her tone carrying a subtle note of satisfaction. "That said, he knows my brother was more than just pretending to be a DA."

Piper's interest piqued, her eyes widening. "What do you mean?" she asked, leaning forward slightly as she sought clarity.

"He has pictures of Cole's altar," Buffy explained, her voice dropping to a whisper as if the very mention of it carried an eerie weight.

Piper's eyes widened, her mind racing as she processed Buffy's revelation. "Pictures of Cole's altar?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with disbelief. "That's… that's huge. How did he get those?"

Buffy's face grew somber, her expression darkening as she grappled with the weight of the revelation. "He didn't say," she began, her voice tinged with a trace of frustration. "I would say more than likely, he just found them during a search of Cole's apartment. It's not like he would have had any reason to hide the truth about that."

Her eyes, usually sharp and confident, now held a shadow of unease as she continued. "But there's more. He also had pictures of bloodstains on the carpet. The ones from before you healed Cole, Leo."

"Which means he knows something was going on," Leo said, nodding in understanding as the implications sank in. "He may not know you and Cole are half-demon, but he knows enough to keep digging. We can discuss this in more detail later. For now, why don't you two go meet Natalie?"

"Who's Natalie?" Phoebe asked, her curiosity piqued as she looked at Leo with a raised eyebrow.

"She's a…." Piper began, searching for the right words to describe her.

"Fellow Whitelighter," Leo interjected, completing Piper's sentence with a smoothness that suggested he was used to finishing her thoughts. He turned to Piper with a half-smile. "See? I finished your sentence."

Piper gave a small, wry smile. "Hmm. It's not exactly what I was gonna say," she replied, her tone a mix of playful annoyance and resignation.

Leo's attention shifted back to Buffy and Phoebe, his expression becoming more serious. "And Buffy, it would be best if you don't reveal that you are half-demon. Only myself, Prue, Piper, Phoebe, and a select few Elders are aware of your dual nature." He glanced pointedly at Piper. "I don't share everything with Natalie, so it's important to keep some things under wraps."

Buffy nodded; her expression serious as she absorbed Leo's instructions. "Got it. I'll keep it to myself."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the conservatory, the atmosphere was heavy with focus and anticipation. Prue stood with her eyes narrowed in concentration, her fingers deftly maneuvering a crystal that hung suspended over a detailed map sprawled out on the antique wooden table. The dim light filtering through the room's lush greenery cast intricate shadows, highlighting the intensity of her scrying.

"You're wasting your time," Natalie said, her tone dismissive yet measured as she observed from the doorway. "You can't scry for warlocks."

Prue's gaze remained fixed on the crystal, her voice unwavering. "I'm not scrying for warlocks. I'm focusing on a witch's energy. Specifically, I'm zeroing in on your charge's power, which, technically, is still alive," she explained, her tone carrying a hint of frustration as she adjusted the crystal's position.

At that moment, Buffy and Phoebe entered the room, their footsteps muffled by the lush carpet. "Hi. You must be, uh…" Phoebe began, her eyes shifting between Natalie and Prue as she tried to place her.

"Oh!" Prue exclaimed suddenly, her eyes widening as the crystal abruptly swung toward a specific location on the map. "Okay, here we go. I think I've found Eames. It's in the Industrial District, south of San Francisco."

Buffy's eyes sharpened with concern. "A warlock? What's going on?"

"Who are you?" Natalie asked, her voice edged with curiosity and caution as she studied Buffy's composed demeanor.

"Slayer," Buffy replied, carefully omitting her half-demon heritage in accordance with Leo's warning. Her eyes were resolute, reflecting both strength and the weight of her concealed truth.

Prue, who had been intently studying the map, turned her gaze towards her sister and Buffy. Her face hardened into a mask of determination. "We'll fill you two in on the way," she said decisively. "Piper! Leo!" Her voice rang out with a sense of urgency, echoing off the walls of the conservatory.

"Wait, you're not going after him, are you?" Natalie asked, her tone shifting to one of concern and disbelief. Her brow furrowed as she tried to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Yeah, that would be the idea," Prue replied, her voice steady and resolute despite the gravity of their mission.

"You're not prepared, you're not—" Natalie began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to articulate her worries. The enormity of the task ahead seemed to weigh heavily on her.

At that moment, Phoebe, who had been absentmindedly touching a dagger resting on the table, was suddenly struck by a premonition. Her eyes glazed over, and she saw a vivid vision: Eames, the warlock, viciously attacking and killing a man.

"What did you see?" Prue asked, her voice tinged with urgency as she turned to her sister, her eyes seeking answers.

"A warlock, I think," Phoebe said, her voice trembling slightly as she recounted the vision. "Killing a male witch." The weight of the vision was evident in her troubled expression.

"Not if we can help it," Prue said firmly, her resolve strengthening with the new information. Just then, Piper and Leo arrived, their presence adding a palpable sense of readiness to the room. "It's four against one," Prue continued, her gaze now encompassing the entire group. "We should be able to counter his power of deflection."

"But Eames can clone himself," Buffy said, her voice carrying a note of urgency as she recalled the warlock in question. Her eyes were intense, reflecting the weight of her experience with the dangerous adversary.

"How do you know that?" Natalie asked, her skepticism evident. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp and questioning. Natalie's understanding of Slayers was limited to their reputation as mortals dealing primarily with low-level demons and vampires, making Buffy's knowledge about warlocks seem unusual.

"I told you," Buffy replied, her tone clipped with frustration at having to repeatedly explain herself.

"A Slayer would never have faced a warlock," Natalie said firmly, her voice laced with disbelief. Her skepticism was not unwarranted; the idea of a Slayer engaging with such powerful entities was foreign to her. "Who are you, really?"

Leo sighed, sensing the escalating tension. He glanced between Natalie and Buffy, a frown creasing his forehead as he stepped in to clarify. "Buffy is not just a Slayer," he said, his voice carrying the weight of authority and concern. "She is also half-demon and my charge."

"Your charge?" Natalie echoed, her eyes narrowing further as she absorbed this new piece of information.

"Yes," Leo confirmed, his tone steady and resolute. "The Elders assigned her to me when they learned of her dual nature. She straddles the fence between good and evil, and it was deemed necessary for me to guide her. Only the Halliwells, myself, and a select few Elders know about Buffy's dual nature and that she is under my protection."

Natalie's eyes widened in surprise as she absorbed Leo's words, her previous skepticism giving way to a dawning comprehension. "I see," she said, her voice reflecting a blend of surprise and newfound understanding. "So, you're saying that her knowledge about Eames isn't just based on rumors or hearsay but stems from her own firsthand experience?"

Buffy met Natalie's gaze with a steady, unwavering look, her expression firm and resolute. "Exactly," she confirmed, her voice carrying a weight of authority and conviction. "Before I was called as the Slayer, before I found myself straddling the fence between good and evil, I was deeply entrenched in the Underworld. I worked for the Source."

She paused, her eyes reflecting a depth of experience and a touch of nostalgia. "I dealt with many warlocks, some of whom were significant players in the Underworld. Even though I never worked directly with Eames, his reputation preceded him."

"Even with this new information, and with a half-demon, half-Slayer helping," Natalie said, her voice steady and commanding, "you still can't go running off half-cocked. You must consult the Elders first. Find out what they know, and what they want you to do."

Piper's frustration was palpable, her voice tinged with urgency and concern. "And how long will that take? Long enough to lose another witch's life?" Her eyes, sharp and full of worry, searched the room for answers, her hands clenched at her sides.

Natalie's expression remained unyielding, her gaze firm as she addressed Piper's concern. "Better one than four," she said, her voice measured and resolute. "You wondered what Eames' ultimate goal was. What if it's to kill the Charmed Ones? Think of the damage he could do with all of your powers."

Prue's face turned serious as she processed Natalie's words. "Alright, Natalie's right. We should definitely check with the Elders first. Do it quickly," she said, her tone carrying the weight of her decision.

"I'll be back as soon as possible," Natalie said, her voice resolute as she prepared to leave. With a flash of shimmering light, she orbed out, leaving the room in a brief, uncertain silence.

Phoebe's expression was a mix of frustration and concern as she looked around at the remaining group. "So, what, we're supposed to just wait?" she asked, her tone reflecting the tension of the moment.

"No! I had to say something to get rid of her," Prue said, her voice edged with exasperation. "She was delaying us, and we needed to take action."

"Thank you," Buffy said, offering Prue a grateful smile. "I knew from the moment she started questioning me that…."

Leo's gaze shifted between the others; his expression serious. "Didn't you hear what she said? Consulting with the Elders is for your own protection. They might have crucial information or advice that could be vital for facing Eames."

"And siding with us is for yours," Piper said as she looked at Leo with a steady resolve.

"Hmm!" Prue said, her voice reflecting a mix of frustration and determination.

Streets of San Francisco

In a dimly lit alley, shrouded in shadows and the faint hum of distant city noises, Eames stood alone, his figure illuminated by the flickering light of a makeshift ritual circle drawn in chalk on the ground. He chanted in a low, rhythmic murmur, the words of his incantation hanging in the air like a dark promise. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable sense of malevolence.

Prue, her face set in determination, yanked her car to a screeching halt at the alley's entrance. The tires skidded against the gritty asphalt, sending up a cloud of dust and debris. As the car doors flew open, Prue, Buffy, Piper, and Phoebe burst out, their movements synchronized with urgency and resolve.

Prue wasted no time. With a sharp flick of her wrist, her telekinesis unleashed a powerful force that sent Eames sprawling backward, his feet skidding against the ground. "Oh, Piper, freeze him!" Prue shouted, her voice carrying a commanding edge as she watched Eames struggle to regain his footing.

Piper stepped forward; her hands outstretched as she invoked her freezing powers. Eames raised a hand with a dismissive flick, deflecting Piper's freezing power with a practiced ease. "He deflected it," Piper said, her frustration evident as she realized their initial tactic had failed.

Buffy, her eyes narrowing in concentration, let her demonic form of Nyxara emerge. A energy ball, crackling with energy, formed in her hand. As she prepared to launch it, Eames's figure suddenly shimmered and vanished, disappearing in a flash of light.

"What happened? Where'd he go?" Piper's voice was filled with concern and confusion as she scanned the alley for any sign of their quarry.

"I don't think that was Eames," Leo said, his tone reflecting a mix of realization and concern as he assessed the situation.

"That was his clone," Nyxara's said, her gaze swept over the alley, seeking any trace of the real warlock.

"Alright, well, the real Eames must be around here someplace," Phoebe said, her voice steady despite the tension. She began to look around, her senses heightened as she tried to locate their elusive enemy.

"Okay, maybe we should get out of here," Piper suggested, her voice tinged with anxiety as she glanced around the alley, her instinct urging them to retreat.

"No, no, no. What about the witch in Phoebe's premonition?" Prue said, her voice rising with urgency. "We can't just leave him here. We have to find Eames before he does more damage."

"Prue is right," Nyxara said, her voice carrying a sense of grim determination. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, ready for any new threats.

"I was afraid you two were gonna say that," Piper said, her gaze shifting between her sister and Nyxara.

"What did he look like?" Prue asked, her tone steady as she turned her attention to Phoebe, seeking any clues that might help them locate Eames' next victim.

"Oh, I don't know. Kinda balding," Phoebe said, her description coming as an afterthought. Just as she spoke, a Darklighter materialized out of thin air, his presence stark and unexpected. "Sort of like that."

"Who are you? Why'd you summon me?" the Darklighter demanded, his voice tinged with confusion and suspicion. He glanced around, clearly believing that the Charmed Ones or Nyxara had called him.

"That's no witch. That's…" Leo began, his voice urgent as he identified the threat. As he spoke, a crossbow appeared in the Darklighter's hand, its menacing appearance adding to the tension. "A Darklighter."

"Leo! Leo, get out of here!" Piper cried; her voice sharp with panic as she saw the Darklighter aiming the crossbow at Leo. In a heartbeat, Leo orbed out just as the Darklighter released an arrow, narrowly avoiding the deadly projectile.

Phoebe, her movements swift and decisive, kicked the crossbow out of the Darklighter's hand, sending it clattering to the ground. Without hesitation, she followed up with a solid kick to the Darklighter's midsection, forcing him to stagger back.

Piper seized the opportunity and froze the Darklighter. The stillness that followed was eerie, the alley now filled with a tense silence as everyone processed the new threat.

"Okay, I don't understand. Why is there a Darklighter here?" Piper asked, her voice laced with confusion as she tried to make sense of the unexpected appearance.

"Oh, did I miss all the fun?" Eames's voice rang out, dripping with mockery as he materialized in the alley. He greeted Nyxara with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Hello, Nyxara. I'm sure the Source will have a field day knowing you're working with the Charmed Ones."

In a flash of malevolent energy, Eames set the frozen Darklighter ablaze, the fire crackling and consuming him with frightening speed. He then grabbed the discarded crossbow; his actions deliberate and taunting. "No, wait, I am the fun," he said, his tone gleeful as he reveled in the chaos. "Thanks for this," he added with a sardonic smile, before blinking out of the alley

Halliwell Manor

Buffy followed Prue, Piper, and Phoebe through the grand entrance of the Manor, the familiar scent of old wood and lavender mingling in the air. The sense of urgency still clung to them, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floor as they moved into the grand hall.

Leo, who had been anxiously waiting, looked up as they entered, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Did you get the Darklighter?" he asked, his gaze shifting rapidly between the four women, his eyes searching for answers.

"No, but Eames did," Piper replied, her voice carrying a note of frustration as she recounted the events. She tossed her coat aside and looked towards the others, her expression resolute.

"Eames? A warlock killed a Darklighter?" Leo's voice was tinged with shock and disbelief. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind struggling to reconcile the unexpected alliance.

"And took his crossbow," Phoebe added, her tone reflecting a blend of confusion and concern as she considered the implications of the stolen weapon.

"Which still doesn't make sense," Buffy interjected, her brow furrowing in thought. She moved to stand near the fireplace, her hands clasped together as she continued. "Sure, warlocks and Darklighters don't tend to work together, just as demons and warlocks don't usually team up. But they're still on the same side, operating within the same dark realms. It's rare for them to turn on each other like that."

Buffy's gaze grew intense as she reflected on the encounter. "On top of that, Eames seemed unusually pleased to see me working with Prue, Piper, and Phoebe. He even mentioned he'd tell the Source about it—like a warlock would ever get an audience with the Source. Eames appeared more interested in toying with us than actually confronting us."

Phoebe nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe he knew he was outnumbered," she suggested, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of further trouble.

"No, he didn't really seem overly concerned. In fact, he seemed quite cocky," Prue countered, her tone firm as she recalled Eames's demeanor. She paced slightly, her frustration evident as she grappled with the implications of their adversary's behavior.

Just then, a flash of shimmering light filled the room as Natalie orbed in, her arrival cutting through the tension. "Good, you're still here," she said, her voice carrying a sense of relief mixed with urgency.

"Speaking of cocky," Piper said, her tone laced with sarcasm as she regarded Natalie's sudden appearance.

"I consulted the Elders and they want you to hold back. They think the witch Phoebe saw might be a force of darkness," Natalie said, her voice carrying the weight of the Elders' directive. She stood with a firm stance, her gaze steady as she delivered the message.

"A Darklighter, actually," Prue interjected, her tone clipped and matter-of-fact. Her expression was one of frustration mixed with resolve, the encounter clearly weighing heavily on her mind.

"How do you know?" Natalie asked, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. She glanced at Prue, her curiosity piqued by the sudden revelation.

"We went, we saw, we didn't quite conquer," Piper quipped, her voice tinged with a wry humor that masked her own frustration. She folded her arms across her chest, her gaze steady as she met Natalie's inquisitive look.

"You what? Leo, how could you let this happen?" Natalie exclaimed, her voice rising with a mix of disbelief and frustration as she turned to Leo. Her eyes, usually calm and composed, now showed a spark of irritation as she addressed her fellow Whitelighter.

"This wasn't Leo's decision," Buffy interjected, her voice calm yet firm. She stepped forward, her gaze shifting from Natalie to Leo and back again, ready to clarify the situation.

"It was ours," Prue added, her tone resolute as she stood by Buffy's side. Her gaze was unyielding as she faced Natalie, her stance showing solidarity with her sisters and Buffy.

"You'll take responsibility for a decision, but not for your lives?" Natalie's voice rose with a note of exasperation. Her eyes flashed with concern as she continued, "That warlock could have killed you."

"He wasn't after us," Piper said, her voice steady despite the tension. She shook her head slightly, her expression resolute as she defended their actions.

"That makes you lucky, not smart," Natalie said, her voice edged with frustration as she addressed the Charmed Ones. Her eyes, sharp and intense, bore into them with an unwavering gaze. "You were reckless. As the Charmed Ones, you have an obligation to serve the greater good." Her tone was heavy with the weight of responsibility and expectation, underscoring the seriousness of their actions.

She then shifted her gaze to Buffy, her expression softening slightly but retaining its firmness. "The Elders informed me about you. You may also be half-demon, but you are also the Slayer. Which means you also have an obligation to serve the greater good." Turning her attention back to all four women, Natalie's voice carried a sense of finality. "You all have a higher calling," she said, emphasizing the gravity of their situation.

At that moment, Leo and Natalie both looked up, their expressions shifting as they heard a call from the Elders. Leo, sensing the urgency, spoke with a note of resignation. "So, do we."

"I think we better both go up this time," Natalie said, her tone conveying the necessity of their departure. She glanced at Leo, her expression one of determined urgency.

"Better lay low until we get back," Leo advised, turning to the Charmed Ones and Buffy. His voice was filled with a mixture of concern and authority. "We'll need to discuss our next steps when we return." With that, he and Natalie orbed out, their forms dissolving into shimmering light as they ascended to the realms of the Elders.

"What's with the hand-holding thing?" Piper asked, her voice tinged with bemusement as she watched their departure. Her question hung in the air, a moment of levity amidst the tension.

"That's the least of our problems," Phoebe said, shaking her head slightly as she refocused on the task at hand. "We have to concentrate on finding and vanquishing Eames." Her voice was resolute, her determination evident as she looked around at her sisters and Buffy.

"Yeah, and we can't count on scrying to locate him because it could just be his clone again," Prue added, her voice tinged with frustration. She paced slightly; the weight of their predicament clear in her expression. "We need a better strategy."

"I could go to the Underworld and see if anyone knows anything," Buffy offered, her tone practical and determined. Her eyes met Phoebe's, ready to take action if needed.

"Too risky," Phoebe said, her gaze firm as she considered Buffy's suggestion. "After all, the only reason that bounty hunters haven't attacked you while you've been here is because they're busy trying to track Cole."

"I still think we need to decode Eames' master plan," Piper said, her voice laced with determination. "If we understand his ultimate goal, then we can figure out how to stop him."

"I'll take book duty," Phoebe said, her voice steady as she stepped forward to take on the task. Her resolve was clear; she would delve into the ancient tome to uncover any clues that might help them.

"I'll do a flow chart, see where all this is leading," Prue said, her tone practical and focused. She was already envisioning how to map out their findings, intending to create a visual representation that could reveal connections and patterns they might have missed.

"I'll help. Anything to get rid of her," Piper said, her voice carrying a hint of frustration. Her gaze shifted toward the door as if picturing Natalie's recent presence, her annoyance evident.

"You mean him," Phoebe corrected, her eyebrow raising slightly at Piper's slip of the tongue.

"Nah, I mean her," Piper clarified, a smirk playing at her lips as she referred to Natalie. Her words were tinged with a mixture of irritation and humor, highlighting her discontent with the Whitelighter's interference.

Phoebe and Buffy walked together into the conservatory; their footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. The room was bathed in soft, natural light that filtered through the large glass ceiling, creating a serene and focused atmosphere. They approached the large wooden table in the center, with the Book of Shadows.

Phoebe settled into a chair and opened the Book of Shadows, her fingers brushing over the worn, leather cover. She flipped through the pages with practiced ease, her eyes scanning the handwritten entries and illustrations. She paused, her gaze locking onto a page about Belthazor.

"You have a page on Cole," Buffy said, her voice tinged with surprise as she leaned in to look at the page depicting her brother.

"Well, Belthazor, but yes," Phoebe acknowledged, her tone a mix of solemnity and practicality. She glanced up at Buffy, who had taken a seat beside her. "I think there is even a page on you—or rather on Nyxara," she continued, her eyes scanning the pages.

The Heavens

In the celestial realm of the heavens, the atmosphere was one of tension and unease. Elders and Whitelighters moved about in their flowing white robes, their expressions a blend of concern and focus as they gathered in a space that seemed both ethereal and foreboding. The room glowed with an otherworldly light, casting soft shadows on the faces of those present.

Leo stood apart from the celestial assembly, dressed casually in jeans and a simple shirt. His attire starkly contrasted with the formal robes of his peers, highlighting his unconventional approach to the proceedings. Natalie approached him, her own white robe flowing elegantly as she walked, her face etched with a mixture of frustration and worry.

"I've never seen the Elders like this before," Natalie said, her voice tinged with both curiosity and concern. She glanced around at the worried faces of the Elders before returning her gaze to Leo. "They're worried about what Eames is up to. Aren't you going to change into your robes? The rules say…"

"I know the rules," Leo interjected, his tone calm but resolute. "I find my jeans more comfortable." His casual demeanor seemed out of place amidst the gravity of the situation, but it was clear he was determined to stick to his personal comfort.

"That attitude scares me, Leo," Natalie said, her voice taking on a more serious tone. She stepped closer to him, her eyes reflecting genuine concern. "I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't tell you how worried I am about the situation at the Manor."

"You haven't seen the Charmed Ones or Buffy at their best," Leo replied, his gaze steady and confident. "Trust me, the Charmed Ones are talented witches. And Buffy is an industrious woman given her dual nature." His words carried a note of pride and assurance, a testament to his faith in their abilities despite their flaws.

"They're also sloppy, untrained, emotional…" Natalie said, her tone sharp as she voiced her criticisms. Her concerns were evident in her stern expression, reflecting a deep-seated worry about the potential for disaster.

"And undisciplined, I know," Leo acknowledged with a nod. "That's part of what makes them great. They don't work by rote. They work on instinct, on passion." His voice was filled with a mixture of admiration and exasperation, recognizing both the strengths and weaknesses of those he cared for deeply.

"I'm all for instinct and passion, but they're too impulsive," Natalie said, her frustration apparent. "They lead with their hearts, not their heads, and they're not the only ones."

"You think I do too?" Leo asked, his tone probing as he sought to understand Natalie's perspective.

"I think it's clear that you love them," Natalie said, her gaze meeting Leo's with a mixture of sympathy and concern. "Every Whitelighter loves their charges."

"Every Whitelighter loves their charges," Leo replied, his voice steady and matter-of-fact.

"Not the way that you do," Natalie said, her voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. "Your feelings are clouding your ability to see their weaknesses." Her words carried a weight of warning, a reminder of the dangers of letting personal emotions interfere with judgment. "Even the demon's."

"Why including Buffy's?" Leo asked, his curiosity piqued as he sought clarity on Natalie's concerns.

"You lied to me when you said that she was your charge," Natalie said, her voice firm and accusatory. "The Elders would never have assigned a demon to a Whitelighter, even if her human half was the Slayer."

Leo's eyes widened in surprise and a hint of defensiveness as he processed Natalie's accusation. The celestial light in the room seemed to dim slightly, emphasizing the gravity of the revelation. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure amidst the swirling emotions.

"Buffy is more than just a demon," Leo said, his voice steady but firm. "Her human side, her role as the Slayer, that's what makes her unique. The Elders may not have assigned her to me officially, but her presence and actions have shown that she fits into the broader picture of our mission." He looked around at the gathered Elders, his gaze pleading for understanding.

Natalie's expression remained stern; her concern undiminished. "Leo, you have to understand that this isn't just about your personal feelings or your attachment to Buffy. The rules and the balance are in place for a reason. If the Elders find out you've been keeping secrets, it could have serious repercussions. Not just for you, but for everyone involved."

"We already know about her being called as the Slayer," said Jonas, an Elder with a commanding presence and a deep, resonant voice. He approached the gathered assembly, his white robe flowing gracefully with each step, reflecting the celestial light in a soft shimmer. His face was a mask of stern authority, tempered by a hint of understanding.

"While yes, we never officially assigned Buffy Turner as Leo's charge," Jonas continued, his gaze sweeping over the room, "we did, however, designate him as a mediator in her journey. This role was crucial to our broader strategy."

His voice carried a weight of both gravity and intent, as if each word was carefully chosen to convey the complexity of the situation. "Leo was assigned as the liaison between Buffy and the Charmed Ones, with a specific purpose in mind. Our intention was for him to facilitate her integration into their world, to bridge the gap between her and the Charmed Ones."

Jonas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed the reactions of those present. "The goal was not just to have her prove her worth, but to demonstrate to both them and us that her demon side would not overshadow her role as the Slayer. We needed her to show that she could stand as a force of good, despite her dual nature."

He continued, his tone becoming more contemplative. "In this endeavor, Leo's role was to ensure that Buffy could be trusted, that her actions would align with our expectations of her as a protector and a force for good. It was essential for us to gauge whether her inherent demonic nature could be reconciled with her calling as the Slayer."

Jonas's expression softened slightly, revealing a glimpse of the empathy that underpinned his stern demeanor. "This is a delicate balance, one that requires careful observation and understanding. Buffy's journey is as much about proving her inner strength and alignment as it is about her actions in the field. The Elders have always been cautious about such matters, and our approach reflects that careful consideration."

As he concluded, Jonas's gaze lingered on Leo, who stood by, a mixture of tension and relief evident on his face. "It is not merely about enforcing rules, but about ensuring that the forces working towards the greater good are aligned in their purpose. Buffy's dual nature presents a unique challenge, but also a significant opportunity for growth and redemption. We trust Leo to navigate this complex path, and in turn, we trust that Buffy will rise to the occasion."

"Of course, Jonas," Natalie said, her voice tinged with a resigned sigh. The weight of the situation was evident in her tone, reflecting the frustration and gravity of the issues at hand. She nodded in acknowledgment, her expression a blend of weariness and resolve as she absorbed the implications of the Elder's words.

Leo, standing nearby, glanced downward, his senses attuned to the subtle vibrations of the magical realm. The familiar sound of Phoebe's voice, filled with urgency and concern, cut through the tension of the celestial gathering. "That's Phoebe," Leo said, his voice calm but laced with a note of urgency as he recognized the call.

Halliwell Manor

Leo orbed into Phoebe's bedroom with a quiet pop, the room illuminated briefly by the soft, golden light of his arrival. He glanced around, expecting to find Phoebe waiting for him, but instead, he saw Buffy standing by the window, her figure silhouetted against the dusky evening sky.

"Where is Phoebe?" Leo asked, his voice edged with concern as he looked at Buffy with a furrowed brow. His eyes searched the room, but there was no sign of the eldest Halliwell sister.

Buffy turned to face him, her expression a mixture of resolve and curiosity. "She called for you so that I could talk to you," she replied, her tone steady but laced with a hint of underlying tension. "I'm not your charge like you told Natalie, am I?"

Leo's gaze softened, and he took a deep breath, the weight of the situation evident in his eyes. "No," he said firmly, his voice carrying a tone of finality. "I was assigned as a liaison between you and the Charmed Ones in your bid to prove yourself to them. The Elders wanted to see if you could show them that you can be a force for good despite your dual nature. But you were not given to me as my charge."

Buffy's eyes met his, searching for further clarity. The room seemed to pulse with an almost tangible silence, the air heavy with unspoken questions and the gravity of their responsibilities. She took a step closer to Leo, her gaze unwavering.

"So, what does that mean for us now?" Buffy asked, her voice low but steady. "If I'm not officially your charge, where does that leave me in all of this?"

Leo sighed, the lines on his face deepening as he considered his response. "It means that my role was to assist you in proving your worth to the Charmed Ones and to help you navigate the complexities of your dual nature. My primary responsibility is to support you and ensure that you can align yourself with the forces of good. But beyond that, your path is your own."

He looked around the room, the soft, warm light casting gentle shadows on the walls. "The relationship we have is one of guidance and support, but not of formal charge. Your journey is about more than just proving yourself to others; it's about finding your own way and fulfilling your own potential."

Buffy nodded slowly, processing the information with a thoughtful expression. The room, once filled with the bustling energy of the magical world, now felt quiet and introspective, a space for reflection and understanding.

"Thanks for clearing that up," Buffy said, her voice carrying a note of appreciation. "I guess I needed to hear that, especially with everything that's going on."

Leo offered a reassuring smile, his demeanor softening as he regarded her. "You're welcome. And remember, even without a formal charge, you're not alone in this. The Charmed Ones and I are here to support you in any way we can."

Suddenly, Leo's expression twisted in agony. He doubled over, clutching his midsection as a pained groan escaped his lips. The room, once calm and composed, was instantly filled with a sense of urgency and distress.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, her voice laced with concern as she rushed over to him. Her eyes widened as she saw Leo's struggle, the normally composed Whitelighter now visibly shaken.

"I don't know," Leo gasped, his voice strained and uneven. "It feels like a witch is being hurt. I can feel her pain."

Buffy's heart raced as she realized the gravity of the situation. Her mind raced through the possible scenarios, and without hesitation, she called out, "Prue, Piper, Phoebe!" Her voice echoed through the house, urgent and commanding.

The sisters hurried into the room; their faces etched with worry as they took in the scene before them. Prue, with her strong sense of responsibility, immediately assessed the situation. Piper and Phoebe followed closely, their expressions reflecting a mix of concern and determination.

"What happened?" Piper asked, her voice filled with anxiety as she looked from Leo to Buffy, trying to make sense of the sudden crisis.

Leo, still struggling with the intensity of the pain, managed to focus on Piper's question. His face was pallid, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "She needs help," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Park

In the quiet solitude of a dimly lit park, where shadows stretched long and the air hung heavy with the chill of the night, Eames stood over a fallen witch. The moonlight glinted off the blade that had just stabbed her.

Eames surveyed his handiwork with a cold, calculating gaze, his expression one of satisfaction mingled with disdain. The witch's blood stained the ground beneath her, a stark contrast to the serene surroundings of the park. He turned away from the grim scene, his eyes reflecting a dark resolve as he spoke aloud, his voice smooth yet tinged with a sinister edge.

"Of course, I could have killed you," Eames said, his tone dripping with disdain as he addressed the fallen witch. "But it's not your powers I'm after. I've set my sights a little higher."

He paused, letting the words hang in the air as if savoring the anticipation. His gaze drifted upward, as if envisioning the grand scheme, he had meticulously crafted. "I'm looking for a few good Whitelighters," he continued, his voice now carrying a note of perverse amusement. "Well, actually, just one. That's all I'm missing now."

A cruel smile played at the corners of his lips as he let the weight of his words settle in. "And yours'll do just fine," he added with a finality that sent a shiver through the cool night air.

Halliwell Manor

"Why isn't her Whitelighter helping her?" Piper asked, her voice tinged with frustration as she paced back and forth. Her worry for the unknown witch mingled with mounting concern for Leo's safety.

"I don't know," Leo said, his expression a mix of determination and urgency. He began to orb out, his resolve clear in his eyes. "But I have to go to her."

"No, Leo, wait," Prue said firmly, stepping forward to halt him. Her mind raced as she pieced together the clues. "I just realized—how could we have missed it? The only reason Eames would have killed a Darklighter is so that he can use the crossbow to kill a Whitelighter."

"Of course," Buffy said, her eyes widening in understanding just as Natalie orbed in. The urgency of the situation seemed to crackle in the air.

"She's right, Leo," Natalie said, her voice grave. "It's a trap."

Leo's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand. Why would he even want to kill a Whitelighter?"

"To gain the power to orb up there," Buffy explained swiftly. "It's the only way into the heavens. Once he's there, he'd be able to decimate both the Elders and Whitelighters."

Natalie nodded in agreement. "She is correct, Leo."

"And that would leave all their charges unprotected," Phoebe said, her voice filled with dread. "He would be able to wipe out all witches everywhere, including us."

"Sounds like a master plan to me," Prue said, her tone steely. The gravity of the situation sank in, amplifying their collective sense of urgency.

"The Elders have instituted a lockdown and recalled all Whitelighters from Earth," Natalie continued, her gaze unwavering. "Leo and I are the only ones who have retained the power to orb, so we can help you stop Eames."

Leo's face tightened with a mix of resolve and distress. "Must be why I feel her pain," he said. "If you could only feel it—"

"I feel it," Natalie interrupted, her voice steady though her eyes betrayed her concern. "But I won't be ruled by it. A Whitelighter who's controlled by his emotions is useless. The greater good must come first."

Park

At the park, the scene was grim and unsettling. The moonlight cast long, eerie shadows across the landscape, adding to the air of foreboding. The witch lay sprawled on the cold, hard ground, her body wracked with pain. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle as she fought against the agony inflicted upon her.

Nearby, Eames stood with a casual, almost bored demeanor. His eyes, however, were sharp and calculating, a stark contrast to his nonchalant posture. He inspected the suffering witch with a detached curiosity, his lips curling into a faint, mocking smile. "Well, this is boring," he said, his tone dripping with contempt. "What kind of lame Whitelighter do you have?"

The witch, despite her excruciating pain, managed to muster a defiant glare in his direction. "They must be on to you now," she croaked, her voice barely more than a whisper. She knew that the arrival of any reinforcements would likely signal a turning point in Eames's twisted scheme.

Eames's smile widened, a predatory glint in his eyes. "I think you're right," he said, his voice tinged with cold amusement. "Which means what? They'll send witches to try and stop me? Well, if witches come, can Whitelighters be far behind?"

He paced back and forth; the excitement of the impending confrontation evident in his movements. "After ten years of chasing a dream, the dream starts chasing me," he continued, his voice imbued with a sense of grim satisfaction. "Of course, you know there is a downside."

Without any hint of remorse, Eames's expression hardened. "I no longer have any use for you," he declared, his voice devoid of empathy. In one swift, brutal motion, he drove the blade into her once more, the cruel finality of his action punctuating his words.

Halliwell Manor

Leo stumbled down the stairs. His face was pale, and his breath came in ragged bursts as he fought to control the rising panic within him. His usually composed demeanor was shattered, replaced by a look of utter distress.

"Leo!" Piper cried out; her voice tinged with alarm as she rushed to his side. Her heart raced, her eyes wide with concern as she reached out to steady him.

"Leo, what is it?" Natalie asked, her tone laced with both urgency and confusion. She took a step closer, her own anxiety mirrored in her eyes as she tried to assess the situation.

"He killed her," Leo said, his voice cracking with a mix of sorrow and frustration. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a reminder of the loss they now faced.

The gravity of Leo's statement hung over them like a suffocating shroud. Prue, ever the pragmatist, tried to mask her own mounting frustration with a veneer of sarcasm. "What does your rule book say to do now?" she asked Natalie, her tone sharp.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Moments later, the kitchen was filled with a tense, uneasy atmosphere. Prue, Buffy, Piper, and Phoebe gathered around the kitchen counter, the hum of the coffee maker punctuating the silence. Phoebe busied herself with preparing coffee, though her movements were automatic, almost mechanical. Her mind was elsewhere, consumed by the weight of recent events.

"I can't believe Natalie just let her die like that," Phoebe said, her voice heavy with frustration and disbelief. "We should have done something—anything."

"Like what?" Piper asked, her tone a mixture of bewilderment and practicality. She leaned against the counter; arms crossed as she tried to make sense of the situation.

"I don't know," Phoebe admitted, her hands stilling as she looked out at the steaming coffee. "Something."

"Yeah, but we need to figure out a way to stop Eames before he kills again," Prue interjected, her voice firm with resolve. She paced the kitchen with a sense of urgency, her thoughts racing through their options.

"What about a Power of Three vanquishing spell combined with my demonic powers?" Buffy suggested, her voice filled with determination. Her fiery gaze met each of theirs in turn, hoping her idea would spark a breakthrough.

"It's going to be a tricky spell, though," Phoebe said, her brow furrowing as she considered the complexities involved. "We have to counteract a lot of powers."

"Plus, we need to do it fast," Piper said, her voice laced with anxiety. She glanced toward the hallway where Leo and Natalie were, her expression a mix of worry and resolve. "I don't like my boyfriend being one of the only two targets on Earth."

With a shared understanding, the group moved from the kitchen into the living room, where Leo and Natalie were engaged in their own intense conversation. The atmosphere was thick with tension as the sisters and Buffy approached them.

"We'd like to speak to Leo in private," Piper said, her voice firm yet polite. "So, if you wouldn't mind going into another room…"

"If it's work-related, you can discuss it with me," Natalie said, her voice cool and unyielding.

"What do you mean?" Prue asked, her voice laced with confusion and concern as she looked between Leo and Natalie.

"Leo?" Piper said, her gaze shifting to her boyfriend, seeking clarity and understanding.

"I asked Natalie to take over as your Whitelighter," Leo said, his tone carrying a weight of gravity. He then turned to Buffy, adding, "I also asked her to take over as your liaison. And she accepted."

"What are you talking about?" Piper asked, her frustration evident as she struggled to grasp the implications of Leo's words.

"Piper, nothing is more important to me than your safety," Leo said, his voice trembling with earnestness. "My being here is putting all of your lives at risk. I've seen what happens when I let my emotions cloud my judgment. I can't afford to make any more mistakes."

"Leo, you have done nothing but protect us," Prue said, her voice firm but filled with concern. "You've always been there for us."

"And ever since I talked Prue and Piper into letting me prove to them that I could be good, you've been very supportive of me despite my dual nature," Buffy added, her voice sincere and appreciative. She looked at Leo with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension.

"You saw what happened upstairs," Leo continued, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and determination. "I would have rushed off to help that witch if you hadn't stopped me. Now, I'm supposed to be guiding you, and yet you are guiding me. It's a complicated situation."

"Leo, we all make mistakes," Prue said, trying to offer reassurance despite the dire circumstances. Her tone was empathetic, yet she understood the gravity of the situation.

"We can't afford to make them now," Leo said resolutely. "Maybe Natalie's right. Maybe my feelings for you are clouding my ability to guide you properly. I don't know. But what I do know is that this is no time for self-doubt, not with Eames out there threatening everyone."

He walked over to Piper, his expression softening as he took her hand. "Piper, the Elders want me to join the lockdown. Until I return, I need you to follow Natalie's guidance. It's crucial for all of us." He leaned in and kissed Piper gently, his lips lingering as if trying to convey everything he couldn't put into words. Then, with a final, heartfelt glance at the group, Leo orbed out.

Buffy, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe stood in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on Natalie, who was standing with an air of authoritative urgency. The tension in the room was palpable, a mix of anxiety and frustration swirling around them.

"I suggest you channel your anger toward the warlock you're meant to vanquish. Now, first…" Natalie began, her voice steady and commanding, cutting through the charged atmosphere.

"Okay, could we just have a moment to process this, please?" Prue interrupted, her voice tinged with frustration. She cast a pleading glance at her sisters and Buffy, hoping for a brief respite to absorb the gravity of their situation.

"No. It's time you stopped focusing on yourselves and started focusing on Eames," Natalie said sharply. "You must prepare yourselves for battle. Mentally, physically, sartorially."

"I'm sorry, what?" Phoebe asked, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she tried to make sense of Natalie's unexpected directive.

"She doesn't like our clothes," Buffy quipped, her tone carrying a hint of sarcasm. She shot a quick look at her sisters, who seemed equally bewildered.

"You need outfits that are loose and allow for freedom of movement. That means no more braless, strapless, fearless attire," Natalie said firmly, her gaze sweeping over the group with a look of disapproval. "You must be practical. We're not fighting in a fashion show."

"Okay, but then I have nothing to wear," Prue said, her voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and irritation. She glanced down at her attire as if it had suddenly become a topic of critical importance.

"And during my time as a Slayer, I found that loose clothing can be a hindrance," Buffy said, her tone practical and matter-of-fact. "Why do you think I don't wear skirts when patrolling a cemetery looking for vamps? It's about practicality and comfort."

Natalie's expression softened slightly, though her tone remained resolute. "I understand your concerns, but you need to be prepared for anything. We're dealing with a powerful warlock who has a plan to attack the Elders and Whitelighters. Your attire needs to be functional, not fashionable."

Streets of San Francisco

In a dimly lit alleyway, the cold concrete beneath their feet seemed to amplify the tension that crackled through the air. Buffy, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe stood in a line, stretching their limbs and adjusting their new attire—clothing chosen specifically for practicality and mobility, as per Natalie's strict guidelines. The outfits were designed for ease of movement: comfortable yet functional, allowing for swift action in the heat of battle. Natalie, who had taken charge of their training, mirrored their movements, her form impeccably disciplined.

"Okay, tell me again why we're doing this?" Prue asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a hint of exasperation. She glanced over at her sisters and Buffy, clearly searching for a more concrete reason beyond the current exercise.

"Because one bad word from General Goody-Two-Shoes, and I'm not getting married," Piper replied, her tone light but edged with underlying frustration. Her words hinted at the personal stakes and pressure weighing on her.

"That's a good reason, I guess," Prue agreed, her voice softening as she nodded in understanding.

Natalie turned to face them, her expression set in determined focus. "Alright, let's get going. Defeating Eames will require split-second timing and flawless teamwork. I can't tell you what you'll be doing in detail, but I can tell you what you won't be doing. You won't be winging it. You won't be hoping for the best. The will to win is the will to prepare to win. Do you understand me?"

"Uh-huh," Buffy replied, rolling her eyes slightly. She shot a glance at Prue, Piper, and Phoebe, a smirk playing on her lips. "She reminds me of Giles when I first met him."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that last platitude," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and curiosity. She looked at Natalie with a quizzical expression, struggling to grasp the full meaning of her motivational speech.

"You think you're so tough because of all the demons you took out, don't you?" Natalie said, her tone taking on a more serious edge. She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. "Let me tell you something. You're only as good as your next vanquish. This alley is a neutral battlefield. Our challenge is to fight Eames. Our primary goal is…"

"To win!" Piper interjected, her voice firm and resolute.

"No," Natalie said, her tone cutting through the air with finality.

"No?" Piper echoed, her surprise evident. She exchanged bewildered looks with her sisters.

"To get the crossbow," Natalie clarified, her gaze shifting to a piece of wood she had picked up from the ground. "A Darklighter's crossbow delivers arrows dipped in a poison that is lethal to Whitelighters. Get the crossbow, and the immediate threat is over. If you have the opportunity to vanquish Eames, by all means, seize it. But keep your eyes on the prize. Alright, now let's pretend I'm the enemy."

"Oh, that is way too easy," Prue said with a hint of disbelief. Her voice carried a mix of confidence and skepticism, clearly unimpressed by the simplicity of the current challenge.

Phoebe clapped her hands enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling with amusement, while Buffy and Piper laughed, sharing a moment of lighthearted camaraderie amidst their intense training. The atmosphere, though focused, was tinged with a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose.

"Now talk me through how you plan to separate me from my crossbow," Natalie said, her tone shifting to one of mock seriousness. She held the crossbow with a firm grip, making it clear that it was central to the exercise.

"Okay, first, I freeze you," Piper began, her voice steady and authoritative. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she envisioned the sequence of their attack.

"And I could throw an energy ball," Buffy added with a confident nod. She raised her hand slightly, demonstrating the motion as if already channeling her magical energy.

"I deflect both attacks," Natalie said, her voice calm and assured. She made a sweeping motion with her hand, as if already countering their planned strikes with practiced ease.

"I guess I could levitate and kick you," Phoebe suggested, her brow furrowing in concentration. She lifted her foot in a mock kick, her levitation abilities already coming into play in her mind.

"You just kicked a clone," Natalie pointed out, her tone laced with amusement. She gave Phoebe a knowing look, indicating that their strategy needed refinement.

"Alright, how about I send in an astral Prue as a decoy and just, you know…" Prue said, her voice trailing off as she demonstrated her power. With a swift gesture, the piece of wood in Natalie's hands flew out, landing harmlessly on the ground. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

Buffy and Phoebe burst into laughter, their mirth ringing out in the alley. The levity was a welcome break from the intense focus of their training session.

"Not as sorry as you would be if I just blinked behind you and stabbed you to death," Natalie said, her voice a blend of mock threat and playful challenge. Her eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, adding a layer of seriousness to her words.

"Well, that would be bad," Prue said, a shiver of realization running through her as she considered the possibility.

"Ouch," Piper agreed, her expression mirroring Prue's unease. The playful banter had quickly shifted to a more sobering realization of the risks involved.

"Alright, you know what? This is too hard. Usually, in these situations, you know, everything happens so quickly, the adrenaline is pumping," Phoebe said, her tone thoughtful as she reflected on the nature of real combat.

"Phoebe has a point," Buffy said, her gaze shifting to meet Phoebe's. "When I fight a vamp, I don't have time to map things out beforehand. It's all about instinct and quick reactions."

"I want you to think using your brains, not your glands," Natalie said firmly, her voice cutting through the laughter and light-heartedness. "Now try again."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Later, Prue sprinted toward a nearby wall with the agility of a seasoned acrobat. She pushed off with one foot, running up the vertical surface before flipping gracefully through the air. As she landed, Natalie appeared behind her, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. Prue spun around, her eyes wide with surprise but ready for action.

Phoebe, not far away, focused her energy and began to levitate, her body lifting off the ground effortlessly. Just as she reached a good height, Natalie appeared beneath her, spinning Phoebe in mid-air with a swift and calculated move. Phoebe's balance faltered, and she tumbled to the ground with a thud, the impact knocking the wind out of her.

Piper stood her ground as Natalie conjured lightning balls and hurled them toward her. Piper raised her hands, freezing the first few in mid-air with her power. However, one lightning ball slipped through her defenses, striking her shoulder with a sharp jolt. Piper winced in pain, the shock momentarily disrupting her concentration.

Buffy, undeterred, launched herself into the air with a powerful leap, her body shimmering as she prepared a flying kick aimed directly at Natalie. Natalie, with reflexes honed from years of training, sidestepped Buffy's attack with ease. She reached out, grabbing Buffy by the arm and using her momentum to toss her across the alley. Buffy crashed to the ground beside Phoebe, the two of them lying in a heap.

P3

Buffy sat at the nightclub's bar, her eyes scanning the room lazily while keeping an eye on Prue, Piper, and Phoebe, who were huddled at a nearby table. The three sisters were engrossed in writing a Power of Three spell, their expressions serious and focused. Natalie sat a little distance away, her watchful eyes never leaving the Charmed Ones.

"Hey, if we don't vanquish Eames, can we at least vanquish Natalie?" Phoebe muttered, her frustration evident.

"Don't tempt me," Buffy replied with a wry smile, taking a sip of her drink.

Prue glanced up from the spell they were crafting. "Alright, I've got the cloning portion of the vanquishing spell done," she announced, her tone determined.

"I'm almost there with the transmogrification," Piper added, her pen moving swiftly across the page.

Phoebe frowned slightly, looking at her contribution to the spell. "Mine came out a little country western," she admitted with a chuckle. "'I'm rejectin' your deflection.'"

Buffy laughed softly, the sound mingling with the club's background music. "Well, it works for me, but you have to get it past you-know-who," she said, nodding discreetly toward Natalie, who sat at her table, an ever-present figure of authority.

Phoebe sighed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "You know, Leo never had to approve our spells. He trusted us," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

"Yeah, but she said that she needs to hear it," Prue reminded them, her eyes flicking to Natalie briefly.

Phoebe rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "You know what?" she said, her voice rising slightly. "What she needs none of us can give her, alright?"

"Alright, still, but personal feelings aside, you kinda have to admire her professionally, you know?" Prue said, glancing at her sisters and Buffy. "She's very dedicated."

"Yeah, but she's not Leo," Piper replied, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and longing.

As if on cue, Natalie walked over to them, her demeanor all business. "How's that spell coming along?" she asked, her tone brisk and expectant.

"Great. All done," Phoebe said, trying to keep her voice neutral. She handed Natalie the piece of paper with the spell written on it.

Natalie took the paper and read over the spell, nodding as she absorbed the words. "Okay, let's nail this warlock," she said, a determined edge to her voice.

"Alright, I'll start scrying for his location," Prue said, already reaching for the map and crystal.

"No need," Natalie interjected, holding up her hand. "I've been working on a new plan, one that would allow us to fight on our turf, not his."

Prue, Piper, Phoebe, and Buffy exchanged curious looks. "Make him come to us? How?" Buffy asked, intrigued by the change in strategy.

"What he wants is what you've got," Natalie explained, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"You're gonna use yourself as bait," Prue said, her voice tinged with both admiration and concern.

Natalie nodded resolutely. "If I orb in somewhere unprotected, Eames should be able to track me with his Darklighter powers. With the four of you in position, as soon as Eames shows up, I orb out. The advantage is all ours."

"Nope. We can't let you do that. It's too dangerous," Piper said firmly, crossing her arms in a gesture of defiance.

Buffy stepped forward, her expression mirroring Piper's concern. "I have to agree with Piper. There's got to be another way."

Natalie glanced at Piper, a hint of a smile touching her lips. "I appreciate your concern," she said, her voice softening. She then turned to Buffy; her expression more thoughtful. "Especially yours. When we're done, I am going to see if the Elders will break the rules for you. You may be a demon who is also a Slayer, but your Slayer side dominates you completely. So, I intend to ask them to let me be your Whitelighter."

Buffy's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words. "Natalie, I... thank you," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"My concern is not for you, at least not just for you. My concern is if you fail…" Piper said, her voice trailing off as she struggled to articulate the weight of her worries. Her eyes were filled with a mix of fear and determination, reflecting the high stakes of their mission.

Natalie met her gaze steadily, exuding an air of unshakeable confidence. "I won't fail. I've gone over every permutation. Every possible scenario," she said, her tone firm and resolute. "So long as we follow the rules, we'll succeed."

Park

Buffy, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe were hidden in the bushes, their breaths shallow as they watched the spot where the dead witch lay. Tension crackled in the air, each woman poised for action. Natalie orbed in first, her presence immediate and commanding, followed a second later by Eames, who blinked in with a sinister grin.

"Now!" Natalie called out, her voice sharp and precise.

Eames reacted instantly, raising his crossbow to shoot Natalie, but she was too quick. She orbed out, leaving him momentarily off balance. Seizing the opportunity, Prue used her telekinetic power to knock the crossbow from his hands. The weapon clattered to the ground as Eames vanished, leaving behind only a wisp of dark energy.

"Clone!" Phoebe exclaimed; her frustration palpable.

"Be ready with the spell," Buffy instructed, her form rippling and transforming into her demonic form. "He could be anywhere," Nyxara warned, her gaze scanning the shadows. "Get the crossbow."

Piper quickly picked up the crossbow, her hands steady despite the tension. "Wait, where is he? Why isn't he fighting back?" Phoebe asked, her eyes darting around nervously.

"Maybe because we got the crossbow?" Piper suggested, though her voice lacked conviction.

"No. Something doesn't feel right. This was way too easy," Prue said, her instincts honed from years of battling the supernatural.

"I have to agree," Nyxara added, her demonic senses tingling with unease.

"And even worse, anticlimactic," Phoebe said, her disappointment clear.

"Well, who cares? We got the crossbow. Let's go," Piper said, eager to leave before anything else went wrong. They took Nyxara's hands, and Nyxara shimmered them out, leaving the eerie silence of the park behind.

Halliwell Manor

Natalie stood waiting in the foyer of the Manor as Nyxara shimmered in with Prue, Piper, and Phoebe. As Nyxara changed back into Buffy, Natalie stepped forward, her eyes searching their faces. "Did you get it?" she asked, her tone brisk but hopeful.

"We got it," Piper replied, handing the crossbow to Natalie. The weapon felt heavy in her hands, a tangible reminder of their recent battle.

"Yeah, but we didn't get Eames," Prue said, her voice edged with frustration.

Natalie took the crossbow, examining it briefly before looking up at the sisters. "That's alright. He wasn't our primary goal. You've done well," she said, her approval evident.

Buffy frowned, her instincts still on high alert. "I think he gave up too easily," she said, her voice tinged with suspicion.

"Maybe you were just prepared and he wasn't," Natalie suggested. "It was our setting, our timing, our plan to execute."

"Yeah, but we didn't get a chance to execute it," Phoebe interjected, her arms crossing over her chest.

"We got what we wanted, and no one got hurt," Natalie said, her tone firm. "This is what happens when Whitelighters, witches, and even half-demon Slayers work hard together. And thanks to you, they'll get a chance to do a lot more of it." She glanced down at the crossbow in her hands. "I'll bring this up there."

Piper's eyes widened with hope. "Uh, does that mean Leo gets to come back?" she asked, her voice a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.

Natalie paused, the weight of the question hanging in the air. "That's not my call," she said softly. "I'll see you later." She prepared to orb out, then hesitated, turning back to the group. "So Eames didn't fight at all?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "Prue disarmed him, and his clone vanished. He never showed."

"Did you wait for him? Look for him?" Natalie asked, her eyes narrowing.

"No, we were playing by the rules," Phoebe replied, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.

"And we grabbed the crossbow, just like you said," Piper added, her tone carrying a mix of pride and confusion.

"The crossbow…" Natalie said, her eyes widening in realization as the crossbow in her hands shimmered and transformed into Eames.

Before anyone could react, Eames grabbed Natalie, pulling her close. Prue instinctively used her telekinetic power on him, but Eames deflected it effortlessly, sending Prue crashing into the wall. Piper attempted to freeze him, but Eames deflected her power as well, sending her sprawling to the floor.

"Nyxara was correct, way too easy," Eames said, his voice dripping with sinister satisfaction. With a swift, brutal motion, he stabbed Natalie with an arrow coated in Darklighter poison.

"No!" Piper cried, her voice breaking with anguish.

As Natalie gasped in pain, Eames blinked out of the room, taking her with him. The room fell silent, the air thick with the horror of what had just transpired.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Several minutes later, Prue, Piper, Phoebe, and Buffy sat in the dimly lit living room, their expressions heavy with frustration and worry. The normally warm and inviting space felt cold and oppressive, mirroring the mood of the room. The fire in the hearth cast flickering shadows on their faces as they each grappled with the weight of recent events.

"We followed the stupid rules and look what happened," Piper said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and despair. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater; her eyes distant as she stared into the flames.

"I hate rules," Phoebe muttered, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The usually bubbly and optimistic sister was now a picture of frustration, her brows furrowed deeply.

Prue glanced at Buffy, her eyes reflecting a shared understanding of the situation. "You and I knew something was wrong. Why didn't we trust our instincts?" Her voice held a note of self-reproach, as if blaming herself for not seeing the obvious danger sooner.

"None of us did," Buffy said with a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumped. She looked around at the others, her expression one of regret and determination. "We were all caught up in trying to follow the rules, trying to play it safe."

"But I am going to now," Piper said suddenly, her voice resolute as she stood up. "Leo!"

"Leo!" Prue and Phoebe added their voices to the call, the urgency in their tones palpable.

A moment later, Leo materialized in the room, his presence bringing a sense of both relief and tension. He looked from one face to another, sensing the gravity of the situation.

"Okay," Piper said, stepping forward. "We did everything she asked. I swear."

"I know," Leo replied, his tone steady but tinged with concern. "I was watching. I wasn't supposed to, but enough said."

"We're through playing by the rules, you know," Phoebe said, her voice firm. The usual playful tone was replaced by one of hardened resolve.

"Alright, now we need to stop Eames," Buffy said, her eyes meeting Leo's with a steely determination.

"Well, I know from experience that Darklighter poison doesn't kill immediately, so there's still a window of opportunity," Leo said, his voice steady but filled with urgency. The room was heavy with tension as they faced the grim reality of the situation. Leo's words provided a sliver of hope, a narrow chance to save Natalie.

"Great. So, we need a plan. What are our options?" Prue asked, her gaze sharp and focused. She leaned forward, her fingers tapping impatiently on her leg. Her mind was racing, trying to piece together a strategy from the fragments of their current predicament.

"There's only one. It breaks the rules big time," Leo said, his expression grave. He shifted his gaze toward Buffy, his eyes reflecting both concern and determination. "Especially with you."

"You mean…" Piper said, her eyes widening as she began to grasp the implications of Leo's words. The realization hit her like a sudden, cold wave.

Leo nodded, his face a mix of resolve and apprehension. "Uh-huh."

"And we…" Piper began, her voice trailing off as she sought confirmation. The enormity of the situation was dawning on her, and the idea of breaking the rules was both daunting and exhilarating.

"Yep," Leo confirmed, his tone clipped but resolute.

"And that will…" Piper continued, her voice faltering as she tried to piece together the plan's potential outcomes. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions and uncertainties.

"I hope," Leo said, his voice filled with a mix of hope and trepidation.

Buffy, Prue, and Phoebe exchanged glances, their faces a canvas of confusion and apprehension.

The Heavens

Eames orbed up into the heavens, his sinister presence disturbing the serene realm. The Whitelighters, draped in their flowing white robes, stood in anticipation, their expressions a blend of curiosity and apprehension. The ethereal light of the celestial plane illuminated their faces, casting long shadows that danced across the marble floors of their heavenly domain.

Without warning, Eames drew the crossbow and aimed with precision. The arrow soared through the air, targeting one of the Whitelighters. But the figure, revealing herself as Prue in disguise, deflected the arrow with a powerful wave of her hand, her telekinetic abilities effortlessly neutralizing the threat. The arrow, caught in mid-flight, was suspended in the air by Piper's freezing power. The glittering, frozen projectile hovered, suspended in the ethereal glow.

Prue, Piper, and Phoebe emerged from their disguises; their faces set with determination. As Nyxara shimmered in behind Eames. With a fierce resolve, she seized the frozen arrow and, without hesitation, drove it into Eames's back. The impact was swift and decisive.

"What the hell are you doing up here?" Eames spat, his eyes darting between the Charmed Ones and Nyxara. His voice was a mixture of disbelief and fury, his confidence cracking under the unexpected assault.

"Kicking your ass," Phoebe retorted, her voice dripping with defiance. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she stood her ground.

"Don't even bother trying to orb out; it won't work," Prue said with a resolute tone. Her stance was unwavering, her power ready to ensure their victory. "You see, you didn't just get the powers of a Whitelighter, but you've inherited their vulnerability as well. The poison in that arrow is working its way through your system, just like you inflicted on Natalie."

"It's kind of poetic," Nyxara said with a hint of satisfaction in her voice, her gaze fixed on Eames. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her, adding a layer of dark satisfaction to their victory.

"I'm kind of in a rhyming mood. How about you, girls?" Phoebe asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief and determination.

"Sure. This poison isn't working fast enough for me," Prue agreed, her tone a mix of impatience and resolve.

"Time for amends and a victim's revenge... Cloning power, turn sour... Power to change, turn to strange... I'm rejectin' your deflection," Piper, Phoebe, and Prue chanted in unison, their voices blending into a powerful incantation. The spell flowed seamlessly, a chorus of defiance and resolution against their enemy.

As the final words of the spell echoed through the celestial plane, Eames began to burn with a fierce, supernatural flame. The flames danced and crackled around him, growing in intensity. With a final, explosive burst, Eames was vanquished, his form disintegrating into nothingness.

"Wow. It worked," Phoebe said, her voice a mix of awe and relief. As the smoke cleared, Nyxara transformed back into Buffy, her expression reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and triumph.

"Nothing anticlimactic about that," Prue remarked, her voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and lingering tension. Her statement was punctuated by the shared laughter of Buffy and Phoebe, their relief and triumph blending into a moment of camaraderie amidst the celestial chaos.

"Uh-oh. Here comes one," Piper said, her eyes narrowing as she spotted a Whitelighter approaching them. Her tone held a note of caution, the weight of their recent battle still fresh in their minds.

As the figure drew nearer, he lowered his hood, revealing the familiar face of Leo. His expression was one of pride and approval, tempered with the solemnity of the situation. "You made your Whitelighter proud," he said, his voice carrying both warmth and respect.

"Thanks, but we were just winging it," Phoebe replied, her voice tinged with modesty and a touch of humor. She glanced at her sisters and Buffy, acknowledging their shared role in their unexpected victory.

"Well, whatever you did, it worked," Leo said, his gaze sweeping over them with genuine admiration. His words conveyed his deep appreciation for their efforts, despite the unorthodox methods they had employed.

"Well, not as well as we would've liked," Piper said, her tone somber as she looked at Leo. "I'm sorry we couldn't save Natalie."

"So am I," Buffy echoed, her voice laced with regret. The loss of Natalie weighed heavily on her, a stark reminder of the sacrifices made in their fight against evil.

"I know, me too," Leo said, his voice carrying a note of empathy. "But she died for the greater good. I know she would've made that choice herself." His words were intended to offer some comfort, a recognition of Natalie's bravery and the nobility of her sacrifice.

"Although, I don't think she would have been too keen on us orbing up here," Phoebe said with a wry smile. Her comment reflected the light-hearted banter they often shared, even in the face of adversity.

"Which is why we've got to get out of here before we all get in trouble," Leo said, his tone shifting to a more practical note. His words carried a sense of urgency, reminding them that their time in the celestial realm was limited.

"I, okay, wait a second. No 5-cent tour? No meet the Elders?" Prue said, her voice tinged with disbelief. She glanced around as if expecting some grand introduction to the celestial realm, her eyes scanning the ethereal surroundings for a glimpse of the Elder council that had been so elusive.

"We're going," Leo said, his tone firm as he turned to lead them away. His gesture was half command, half reassurance, a reflection of his need to get them out of the heavenly realm before any more complications arose.

"Not yet, you're not, Leo," Jonas's voice cut through the air, authoritative and unexpected. The Elder's sudden appearance was accompanied by a sense of formality that contrasted sharply with the casual atmosphere Leo had been trying to create.

"Oh no," Leo muttered under his breath, recognizing the gravity of being stopped by an Elder. His shoulders slumped slightly as he faced Jonas, knowing that further delays were inevitable.

"It's not what you think, Leo," Jonas said, his voice carrying a calm but decisive edge. "I have been in discussions with the other Elders about Ms. Turner here." He nodded toward Buffy, who stood nearby, her expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The acknowledgment of her presence marked a significant turn in their interaction with the celestial authorities.

"Natalie had told Buffy she was willing to ask us to make Buffy her charge, even though it would break the rules," Jonas continued, his tone becoming more deliberate as he addressed the matter at hand. "With the fact that Natalie is now dead, as her last request, we have decided to honor it." The Elder's gaze lingered on Buffy, a mixture of solemnity and approval in his eyes.

"Therefore, Leo," Jonas said, shifting his focus to Leo with a sense of finality, "Buffy Turner, the half-demon, half-Slayer, is now your charge." His words hung in the air, a declaration that carried weight and consequence, signaling a new chapter in both Buffy's and Leo's lives.

As the announcement settled, the atmosphere seemed to shift, blending the gravity of celestial decisions with the tangible reality of their new responsibilities. Buffy's eyes widened slightly, a mix of relief and surprise reflected in her gaze. Leo, too, processed the weight of the news, understanding that his role had just expanded in ways he hadn't anticipated.

Prue, Piper, and Phoebe exchanged looks of disbelief and support, their unspoken thoughts clear: this was a significant development, one that would undoubtedly influence the path ahead.