My time with Derek could be summed up with one word: Awkward.

He's clearly putting a lot of effort in to make this work, he never does anything without putting his all in. That's one of the things I loved about him.

It was obvious there's something he wants to talk to me about. Naturally, I assume it was about Chris, so I always try to bring up something to distract him whenever I notice him thinking too hard.

The few times I had seen Chris since Derek's arrival, he had been in a bad mood. He seemed to be the one avoiding me now. I tried to speak with him a few times, to apologise, to hear his voice, to see him smile. But he was never around long enough for me too, always off to help the sisters vanquish some evil or another.

"Cassy?"

Sometimes, I'd catch a glimpse of him in the club. Usually sitting by himself, but women would still try to approach him. It always made my stomach clench when I saw him smile at them. Once, I thought I saw him take one into his room out back. I know I have no right, but it made me feel awful.

"Cassy."

Every now and then, I'd be lucky enough to catch his eye, and there would be a plethora of emotions there. I could never predict what I would see. Sometimes a burning anger, frustration - at what or who I wondered. Other times, there was such deep sadness combined a swarm of guilt. What did he have to be so guilty about? The man was such an enigma.

"Cassy!"

I jump at the sudden noise, looking around, completely lost. The sight of fine dining and formal wear brings me back to the current moment. I'm having lunch in an extravagant restaurant with my boyfriend, who is currently staring at me with exasperation.

Here I am with a wonderful guy I've been with for almost four years, yet I can't stop thinking about another guy I've barely known for four weeks. It really wasn't fair.

"Where were you, ocean eyes?" He asks me fondly.

I blush at the reference to my spacing out and respond automatically, "Nowhere, I'm right here with you."

His smile falters, clearly disappointed I won't share my thoughts with him. But the emotion is quickly reigned in as he leans forward to capture my hand in his own. "Cassy, there's something I've been wanting to discuss with you."

I frown at his touch, feeling the impulse to slide my hand out from under his.

Why doesn't he make me feel sparks?

I'm glad to have a shift that night, wanting to avoid being home for as long as possible. I needed to avoid Beth and the questions she undoubtedly has for me.

We always tried to have at least two bartenders on each night at P3. Unfortunately, with Rachael gone, Maleck off for his birthday, and Rex calling in sick last minute - it was all up to me. Ordinarily, the mere thought would overwhelm me, but tonight I find myself relishing in the distraction it provides.

"Just think about it, please."

Shaking the memory from my mind, I keep focusing on the task at hand, letting the work consume me. Smiling politely as I take money and give back a receipt, make the drink and check their receipt if needed to make sure it's correct, before I hand it to them.

It goes on like this for a while, progressively getting busier. As the hours wear on, I struggle to keep up the pace. I'm ashamed to admit I make a couple drinks for myself too and sneak sips of my personal beverage between customer requests. I assuage my guilt by telling myself that I'll leave money in the till to make up any losses that go to me in this time of need. The drinking helps me keep up the pace for a while longer, and I make sure to use the measuring glass so I don't waste any of our stock. Generally, I would trust my own mental measurements, but not in this state.

It's getting harder to remember who ordered what, and I rely entirely on checking receipts. This slows my pace dramatically, but it's better to be right than to be fast, or so I try to assure myself.

As I make my way to the other end of the bar, I knock directly into someone and feel liquid seep into my black shirt. Great, I'll be paying for that one too, I guess.

I look up to berate whoever thought they could come back here to make their own drink, but all thoughts vanish as I see concerned green eyes looking back at me.

"Chris," I ask breathlessly, "What are you doing back here?"

He tears his eyes from me and I feel myself move in an attempt to follow them. I want remain in his sight, I want him to see me.

"What does it look like?" He responds, remaking another martini and filling it in a new glass before giving it to a pretty woman. She gives him a twenty dollar bill and a flirty smile in return. For a moment, I think he's just getting his date a drink, but then he asks another patron what they want.

"You really shouldn't be back here," I tell him, trying to keep my voice steady.

His eyes finally flicker back to me as he says, "Cas, you've been on your feet for almost five hours now. Let me help."

I stare deeply into his green eyes as I ask, "You've been watching me?"

"Ey, lady! Can I get some service here?" A grubby man demands, breaking me from my trance before Chris can answer.

Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth anymore, I order Chris to let me know if there are any drinks he doesn't know how to make. I don't wait for his reply as I take the rude man's order and continue my shift.

We work in tandem together, as though rehearsed. We jump back and forth between registers, requesting certain liquors the other one was closer to. I feel completely at ease knowing he has my back and switch to sipping water so I can be closer to my best with him.

Thanks to Chris, the evening ends smoothly. We make the final call, and Bryce herds the late stayers out soon after that.

I keep myself busy wiping up the alcohol that has spilled on the bar. Most of it is already sticky, and I try not to think that it's probably my fault. I may not have been coping as well with all the drink orders as I thought. I dread to think how the night may have turned out if Chris hadn't stepped in to help me.

He had been sweeping up some broken glass but stopped as soon as the bouncer Bryce left. Instead, he uses his magical advantage to orb it all to the trash, along with transporting any lost cups back to the sink.

"If only you could use your powers to fill the sink and make them wash themselves. That would be very Harry Potter," I jest.

He chuckles at the direct reference and makes his way towards me. I flush, wondering why he's approaching me, then he starts grabbing out a few different bottles.

"What are you doing?" I ask curiously, for the second time that night.

He grins in response and simply says, "You'll see," mysteriously while mixing a few different ingredients together.

He grabs out two tall glasses and fills them both to the brim with the strange liquid. He puts some fresh garnish in both and adds a straw to one before sliding it over to me.

"Try it."

Without question, I lean forward and take a sip from the straw. My eyes widen in delight as the flavour meets my tongue, a delicious mix that makes my mouth water as I'm having it.

A noise of delight escapes from my nose, and I close my eyes as I take a few long sips from the staw, already feeling the alcohol in it. "Oh my God, what is this?" I exclaim with ecstasy, quickly taking another sip.

He chuckles at my reaction, "Your favourite."

"Ohhh, yes it is," I decide on the spot. The glass already half empty. "Wait, you mean from the future?"

He hums affirmation before taking another sip of his own.

His comment makes me wonder, "Just how well to we know one another in the future?"

He stops at my question and lowers his glass, avoiding my gaze. "Pretty well, I guess. But you told everyone about this, wouldn't shut up about it really. You insisted we hadn't lived until we tried it."

The fondness in his voice makes me lean forward in my seat, wanting to hear more. "What was I like?" I ask with wide eyes.

He sets the glass on the bar and looks directly in my eyes as he says, "You."

I chortle at that, murmuring, "That's a cop out." I tilt the glass back, trying to get every last drop of it. Afterwards, I use my straw to pick out the garnish and chew it, not thinking if how ridiculous I'll look with bits stuck in my teeth - too consumed with the deliciousness of it. He gazes at me fondly as I do, but I don't notice.

"You were.." his face becomes lost in memories as he looks into his cup. I stare at him in wonder - I hadn't expected him to actually answer. "..fierce. I remember the first time we met, it was right after my - after a, uh, serious event in my life. l hadn't left my room in days, I barely even moved. Then suddenly, this woman just invites herself in out of nowhere, and she looks down at me curled up on the floor," he pauses to take a sip, and I am mesmerised by his words. "Eventually, she says, 'Get up. Evil won't wait for you to be ready. You need to stand up and protect yourself now.' Then she threw a- um, she threw something at me, and I had no choice but to move out of the way. That was the first time I'd moved in days. Within about five minutes, she did something for me that my family couldn't do in a week."

My jaw is hanging open. I'm lost for words while he is lost in his memories, and we both sit that way for a while.

"Wow... are you sure that was me?" I ask, pointing at myself, breaking our silence, "Because that sounds way too badass to be me."

He chuckles, "Yeah, it was pretty badass."

"Thank you for tonight, Chris. I really needed it," I say eventually, turning a bit melancholy as the adrenaline settles, and I realise I'm soon to be out of distractions.

"Trouble in paradise?" He questions carefully, continuing to sip on his drink.

I laugh at the phrase. "You could say that... he asked me to move to New York with him. I think he wants to marry me."

He chokes on his sip and has to pound his chest to clear it. Clearing his throat, he asks in an overly casual tone, "Will you?"

"I don't know," I mutter, staring into my empty glass. "I told him I needed some time to think about it. It's a big decision..." I trail off, my mouth dry. I'm not sure if it's the alcohol or the stress.

Chris must notice something in my demeanour, because he gets up and fills two glasses of water for us.

I accept it gratefully and take a sip, then start to ramble, "A month ago, I probably wouldn't have even hesitated! I mean, what do I even have holding me back? Don't get me wrong, I like my job here, but I only stepped in to help Piper while she had Wyatt... And Paige, well, she has more sisters now. Plus, she could always orb in to see me."

"So what's holding you back now?" he asks with a watchful eye over his cup.

"I don't know," I tell him remorsefully, "Things are just different now. I feel differently, I guess."

He sighs and finishes the last of his drink, "Do you want my advice?"

I look up at him and nod.

"Stay." He says simply. "We need you here, Cas. I.. think that you can help us protect Wyatt."

The way he hesitated there lit a spark of hope in me that maybe this weird connection I feel isn't completely one-sided. It was dimmed as I realised that, of course, he was just thinking of his mission from the future. Nothing was more important to him than protecting Wyatt.

"Okay," I respond easily.

"Cas, please just-" He starts before realising what I said and asking with surprise, "Okay?"

"Yeah," I agree more certain now. "You're right. I think that was it, honestly. How could I leave when I know our family is still in danger?"

"Our family?" he echoes, something odd in his tone.

"Yeah, mine and Paige's family."

He looks back down at his empty glass, "Right, of course."

I look at him a bit weirdly, but decide to brush it off. Poor dude is probably just really lonely being in the past all by himself with no one to talk to. "You're a good friend Chris." I tell him honestly.

He looks up at that and smiles, but it seems forced. "Thanks, Cas. You're not too bad yourself."

I smile back at him then clear my throat and stand on shaky legs. woah, that drink went straight to my head, the fact I haven't eaten in a few hours probably didn't help either. "Well, I better get out of your way," I tell him regretfully.

"Let me orb you home," he offers.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I nod and confirm with caution, "To my car park out the back. There are no cameras there, so we shouldn't be seen - and I won't just be showing up in my apartment out of the blue." Even drunk I have enough sense not to let him risk exposing magic.

He smiles and offers his arm in agreement. I jump for it greedily, wanting to feel the tingles he brings.

And just like that, we leave in a blinding bunch of dancing lights.