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.

32. Chapter 32: Anne's Knight 2 Remember Pt1

Chapter 32: Anne's Knight to Remember Part 1

August 13, 1998 – Thursday

Helen's Kitchen, Sunnydale

Willow moved through the diner with the practiced efficiency of someone used to long shifts and little patience from customers. She balanced plates of steaming food in her hands, the scent of fried eggs and cheap coffee clinging to her like a second skin. With a tired but polite smile, she set the meals down at a table and turned toward another where a group of rough-looking men lounged, their plates nearly empty, the remnants of greasy food smeared across them.

"Anything else?" she asked, her voice even, controlled.

One of the roughnecks, a burly man with a leering grin and a two-day-old beard, looked up at her, eyes filled with something uncomfortably familiar. "That'll do us, peaches," he said, his voice thick with suggestion.

Willow didn't react to the nickname. She simply ripped the bill off her notepad and placed it on the table, making sure to avoid his gaze. "Pay at the counter," she instructed, already turning away.

But the man wasn't finished. "Sure, you don't want me to work it off?" he added, his grin widening, his tone mocking.

Willow barely had time to register the words before she felt the sudden, unwelcome sting of his hand slapping against her backside. She froze mid-step, her fingers tightening around the edge of her notepad. Her heart pounded in her ears as she fought against the instinct to whirl around and say something, do something. She turned her head slightly, hesitating, debating whether confronting him would be worth it. But as the roughnecks chuckled among themselves, she inhaled sharply, forcing herself to move on.

She approached the next table, grateful for the distraction. A young couple sat there, their hands close but not quite touching, eyes locked in an easy, affectionate gaze. They couldn't have been older than twenty, but their smiles were warm and genuine, untainted by the weariness that clung to so many who passed through this diner. Willow recognized the girl almost instantly—Chanterelle, a former member of that doomed vampire cult, the 'Sunset Club.'

As she got closer, she noticed them giggling over their forearms, pointing at something inked onto their skin with a mix of pride and excitement.

"Are you guys ready?" Willow asked, her voice softer now, more curious than mechanical.

The young man glanced up at her, his fingers still absently tracing his forearm. "Yeah, I think we're good, um…" He squinted at her nametag before finishing with a small grin. "…Willow."

Willow barely had time to nod before a voice cut in beside him. "What'll you have?" she asked.

The guy hesitated, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of change. He dumped it onto the table, the clinking sound ringing loud in the otherwise quiet space. It wasn't much—just a few crumpled bills and some loose coins, not enough for a real meal. "Well, okay…" he said, counting through it. "What can we get with this?"

Willow glanced at the pitiful pile of change, her mind already flipping through the cheapest options on the menu.

Before she could answer, the girl perked up. "Can we get cake?" she asked hopefully.

The boy, shaking his head with mock seriousness, nudged her playfully. "Don't be stupid! We gotta eat healthy. Can't have cake." Then, turning back to Willow, he asked, "Can we get pie?"

The girl nodded in agreement, eyes twinkling. "That's better. That's got fruit."

Willow smiled despite herself, leaning in slightly. "We got peach pie. I can't guarantee there's a peach in it…" she admitted with a teasing edge.

The girl sighed dramatically. "We shouldn't have blown all our money."

The boy, however, didn't share her regret. He grinned, nudging her arm again. "It was worth it." Then, almost like he had been waiting for this moment, he stretched his arm across the table, palm up. Lily did the same, their forearms pressing together, revealing fresh tattoos in black ink. His read 'Lily' and hers, 'Rickie.'

Willow's smile faltered just a little, but she covered it quickly. "It's nice," she said carefully. "It's nice and… permanent."

Rickie beamed. "Yeah, well, forever. That's the whole point."

Lily, still examining Willow's face with squinted eyes, suddenly tilted her head. "Hey… do I know you?"

Willow blinked. She hadn't expected to be recognized. "I think so," she said, searching Lily's face for any sign of recollection. "I think we met briefly at the 'Sunset Club' before it was closed down by a friend of mine."

Lily's eyes widened slightly as memory clicked into place. "I remember now."

Willow gave her a small, knowing nod. "I'll get your pie." She turned, heading for the kitchen, the conversation still lingering in her mind.

Behind the counter, Mitch, her manager, glanced up from the grill. "Willow," he called, wiping his hands on a rag. "Are you still wanting off tomorrow for your friend's wedding?"

Willow set the ticket down, adjusting her apron. "Yeah, Mitch."

Mitch nodded, then, with an unexpected kindness in his voice, added, "Hand me that order, and I'll cover the rest of your shift so you can go get your friend a wedding present."

Willow looked at him in mild surprise, a grateful smile tugging at her lips. For a moment, the exhaustion from the day, the roughnecks, the unwanted attention—it all faded.

"Thanks, Mitch."

Paige's Apartment

The dim glow of the moon cast a soft silver sheen over the bed where Paige lay tangled in silk sheets, her auburn hair splayed across the pillows like fire against the pale fabric. Her fingers idly traced patterns on the chest of the man beside her, his skin warm and golden beneath her touch. The air in the room was thick with the heady scent of candle wax and something distinctly them—a mixture of warmth, comfort, and longing.

"Once upon a time, there lived a handsome Prince, who was about to marry a beautiful Maiden," Paige murmured in a dreamlike voice, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at Glen, the teasing lilt in her tone making the words dance between them.

Glen, broad and solid beside her, turned his head slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. His arm, strong and possessive, remained draped lazily across her waist. "But an evil Enchantress with dark powers wanted the Prince for herself, so she could become Queen and rule the entire Kingdom," she continued, her voice taking on a dramatic, conspiratorial whisper.

"I hate her," Glen muttered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a low rumble against her skin.

Paige grinned, rolling onto her side to face him, her expression playful. "Really? I always kinda related to her," she admitted, her smirk deepening as she met his gaze.

Glen chuckled, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Like I said," he murmured, voice thick with amusement, "I love her."

Paige giggled, the sound light and effortless, as he leaned closer. His body was warm against hers, and for a moment, the fairytale between them felt real—like they were suspended in a story of their own.

"Then what happened?" he asked, his curiosity piqued despite himself.

With an impish glint in her eye, Paige flipped onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands as she continued, her voice taking on an air of mystery. "Well, in order to pull off that kind of magic, the evil Enchantress had to wait for a sign that her powers were at their darkest," she explained, casting him a knowing glance, her gaze flickering toward the window where the night sky stretched infinitely above them.

"A sign?" Glen prompted, brow arching as he followed her line of sight.

"Mm-hm," Paige hummed with a nod, her lips curving into a soft smile. She lifted a hand, pointing toward the heavens. "See in the stars?" Her fingertip traced an invisible outline as she guided his gaze. "See the Prince? His sword? And the three stars that form his crown?"

Glen squinted slightly, tilting his head. "Huh," he mused, as if trying to piece together the celestial puzzle she had drawn for him.

"Well," Paige continued, her voice softening with something almost reverent, "once the evil Enchantress saw the sign, she locked away the beautiful Maiden and cast a spell on the unsuspecting Prince: Bring together my Prince and me. Let him fall on bended knee. I summon…"

She paused, her brows furrowing in mild frustration. "I summon…" she repeated, but the next words eluded her. With a sigh, she shook her head. "I can never remember the end of it," she admitted, a faint pout forming on her lips.

Glen smirked. "Let me guess," he said, tilting his head toward her, his tone laced with playful skepticism. "The Prince defeats the evil Enchantress, marries the beautiful Maiden, and they live happily ever after, right?"

Paige bit her lower lip, shaking her head slowly, her eyes alight with mischief. "Nuh-uh," she countered, her voice holding the satisfaction of a storyteller who delighted in a twist. "Actually, the evil Enchantress bore an heir, killed the Prince, and ruled the Kingdom forever."

She smiled smugly at him, her chin lifting slightly in triumph.

Glen let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Well, what kinda fairytale is that?" he asked, clearly amused.

Paige merely shrugged, stretching her arms above her head as she continued gazing at the stars. "It's just one that's kind of stayed with me for as long as I can remember," she admitted, her voice softer now, tinged with nostalgia. "I told you I was a weird kid," she reminded him pointedly.

Glen exhaled a laugh, his head tilting toward her. "I need to get you out more, Paige," he mused, watching her as she studied the constellations.

Paige turned her head, shooting him a small scowl. "It'd be easier if you were around more, Glen," she countered, her voice edged with something unspoken.

He didn't flinch at the remark; instead, he merely smiled, his gaze dipping to her lips. "I'm around now," he pointed out, his voice smooth, low, and entirely too tempting.

Paige arched a brow, lips curling into a slow, mischievous smirk. Without breaking eye contact, she lifted a single finger and made a subtle "come hither" gesture.

Glen grinned in response, surrendering without hesitation as he leaned in, his body moving over hers in one fluid motion. The weight of him, solid and familiar, pressed into her as their laughter melted into something warmer, something heavier, something that made the whole world outside this moment—outside this bed—simply disappear.

October 17, 1350 – Wednesday

Royal Castle

The grand chamber was cold, its towering stone walls illuminated only by the flickering glow of torches mounted in iron sconces. Shadows danced eerily across the high-arched ceiling, stretching toward the young woman who had just been dragged inside. Her long, wave-kissed hair cascaded over her shoulders, disheveled from the forceful grip of the guards who had delivered her here. The billowing fabric of her midnight-blue gown swayed as she yanked her arm free, her breath quickened by both anger and defiance.

"What's the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice ringing out like a bell through the vast space. She straightened her shoulders, regal even in distress, her piercing gaze locked onto the shadowed figure standing by the window. "How dare you summon me!"

A hushed silence settled before the low, velvety voice of the other woman finally responded. "Forgive me for inconveniencing you at this late hour, Lady Julia." The words were smooth, dripping with an eerie calmness, though the figure herself remained cloaked in the darkness beyond the firelight. The Enchantress stood poised, the long, flowing fabric of her dark robes trailing against the floor as she stared out into the night beyond the stained-glass window. "Alas, I had no other choice. The stars have aligned," she continued, her voice lilting with an almost reverent tone.

Lady Julia's stomach tightened, but she refused to let the cryptic words shake her. She lifted her chin, eyes flashing with unwavering resolve. "You don't frighten me, Enchantress," she stated firmly, her hands clenched at her sides. "The stars are on the side of good, not evil."

At this, the Enchantress turned, though she remained shrouded in shadow, her silhouette stark against the moonlight filtering through the window.

"Tomorrow," Lady Julia pressed on, her voice as strong as the pounding of her heart, "my Prince and I will marry, and there is nothing you can do to stop that." She took a step forward, daring to challenge the darkness that loomed before her. "He loves me, not you," she declared, a slight edge of frustration creeping into her tone, her fingers trembling as they curled into the fabric of her gown.

For a moment, there was only silence, thick and charged with unspoken tension.

Then, the Enchantress let out a slow, almost amused breath. "Dark magic can change that," she said evasively, her voice dropping into something more dangerous, more knowing.

Before Lady Julia could react, the Enchantress lifted her arms with a sudden, commanding force. A cold, unnatural wind rushed through the chamber, mist curling along the floor like grasping fingers. The torches flickered wildly as a powerful surge of magic swept through the air. Lady Julia barely had time to gasp before the icy gust struck her, lifting her off her feet and hurling her backwards.

She crashed against the unyielding stone wall with a breath-stealing force, her vision swimming with bursts of light. A groan escaped her lips as she struggled to rise, but before she could find her footing, a heavy clang echoed through the chamber.

Lady Julia's breath hitched. A large, gilded cage door had descended from the ceiling, slamming shut around her. The iron bars gleamed menacingly in the flickering firelight, sealing her in like a bird trapped in a hunter's snare.

Pain shot through her limbs as she pushed herself up and stumbled toward the bars, wrapping her fingers tightly around the cold metal. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded, her voice raw with disbelief, with fury.

The Enchantress moved at last, stepping into the firelight, her dark robes flowing behind her like a shadow given form. "Because this is my destiny, not yours," she said smoothly, the satisfaction in her expression was undeniable, a predator who had just outmaneuvered her prey.

August 13, 1998 – Thursday

Streets of Sunnydale

Willow walked quietly, her breath misting in the cool night air as she made her way home. Her coat, slightly oversized, was wrapped tightly around her, warding off the evening chill. Beneath it, she still wore her waitress uniform, the scent of grease and coffee clinging faintly to the fabric. In her hands, she clutched a small, carefully wrapped box—her chosen gift for Prue and Buffy's wedding. The weight of the long day tugged at her limbs, but there was a quiet contentment in knowing she had done something meaningful.

Footsteps approached from behind, light but purposeful.

"Willow?" a voice called hesitantly.

Willow stopped and turned, her fingers instinctively tightening around the box. She relaxed slightly when she saw who it was. "Hey," she greeted. "Lily, right?"

Lily nodded, stepping closer under the dim glow of the streetlamp. "Yeah," she confirmed before adding, almost as if she were embarrassed, "But you might recognize me as Chantarelle… you know, when I was in that cult that worshipped vampires." She rolled her eyes at herself, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. "So lame, I know…"

Willow gave a small nod, recognition flickering in her eyes. "Yeah, I remember you."

Lily exhaled, her breath curling in the cold air. "Your friend Buffy kind of saved us," she said, a note of guilt in her voice. "I never thanked her or anything."

Willow glanced at her, noting the sincerity in Lily's tone as they naturally fell into step together. "So, you live nearby?" Willow asked, shifting the wedding gift to her other hand.

Lily shrugged, shoving her hands into the pockets of her worn-out hoodie. "There's a couple of places. They're abandoned, but a lot of people stay there." Her voice held a forced lightness, as if she didn't want to dwell too much on the reality of it. "Rickie knows all those places; he can always find somewhere to crash. He's pretty smart." She hesitated for a moment, then looked at Willow. "Hey, do you have any money?"

Willow stopped walking, her grip tightening slightly around the wrapped box. She blinked, uncertain how to respond.

Lily quickly waved a hand, shaking her head. "I don't mean that like…" She sighed and started over. "Well, I just mean, I know a guy who's throwing this… thing. Kind of like a rave? It's in this basement. It's three bucks to get in, and you have to know someone. We could go, I could show you—if you had…" She shrugged, rocking slightly on her heels. "'Cause I'm broke."

Willow softened, but she still shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry," she said, adjusting her hold on the gift. "I just spent the money I've been saving."

Lily's expression fell just a little, but she quickly masked it. "Oh," she said simply, before turning slightly as a figure barreled toward them.

An old man plowed straight through, knocking into them roughly.

"Whoa!" Willow yelped, staggering slightly but keeping hold of her gift.

Lily scowled at the man's retreating back. "That's not very polite," she muttered, calling after him.

The man stopped abruptly, as if the words had physically struck him. Slowly, he turned back to face them. His face, lined with age and exhaustion, was contorted in something close to horror. His wide, haunted eyes locked onto them, making Willow shift uncomfortably. "Are you okay?" she asked cautiously, taking a small step forward.

The old man just stared, his mouth opening and closing as though searching for words. Finally, in a cracked, rasping whisper, he uttered, "I'm no one…"

A chill ran down Willow's spine. "What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

August 14, 1998 – Friday

Halliwell Manor

The morning sun poured through the windows in golden streaks, casting a warm glow across the bedroom as the peaceful silence was shattered—

"GOOD MORNING, DEAR SISTER OF MINE!"

Phoebe's voice rang out like a siren as she flung open the bedroom door with dramatic flair, one hand dramatically clamped over her eyes. The sudden intrusion sent a shockwave through Prue, who spun around from where she stood near the vanity, her heart lurching at the unexpected explosion of sound.

"Oh my god, Phoebe!" she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest as if to calm her racing heart. "You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing?" Her voice was tinged with both alarm and exasperation as she narrowed her eyes at her younger sister.

Phoebe, still standing in the doorway with her other arm stretched out in front of her as if navigating a minefield, tilted her head. "Is it safe?" she asked in a cautious tone. "Can I look without being scarred for life?"

Prue blinked in confusion before realization dawned on her, amusement quickly replacing her initial shock. A smirk tugged at her lips as she shook her head. "What are you…?" she began before a knowing grin took over. "Buffy's in the shower, Phoebe."

"Good!" Phoebe chirped as she finally dropped her hand from her eyes, her face lighting up as she bounced into the room.

Prue narrowed her eyes, instantly suspicious. "What?" she asked, her gaze locked onto Phoebe's mischievous expression.

For a brief, almost eerie moment, Phoebe just stood there grinning at her, eyes twinkling with barely contained excitement. Prue barely had a second to prepare before—

"IT'S YOUR WEDDING DAY!"

Phoebe shrieked with sheer delight, her entire body vibrating with energy. She clapped her hands together enthusiastically before launching herself at Prue in an explosion of affection, wrapping her in a crushing hug and peppering her face with rapid-fire kisses.

Prue let out a startled laugh, her amusement growing as she attempted to squirm away. "Oh, for god's sake, Pheebs!" she groaned between giggles. "Are you trying to smother me?" She pulled back slightly, trying to dodge yet another affectionate attack, but Phoebe was relentless.

Phoebe giggled and tugged Prue toward the bed, plopping them both down onto the soft sheets. "Aren't you like… super excited?" she asked eagerly, her eyes wide with wonder as she studied her sister's face, searching for the same level of giddy anticipation that was currently coursing through her own veins.

Prue let out a small, knowing sigh before smiling warmly. "Of course, I am," she assured her little sister. "I'm just not scary overexcited like you are," she teased with a playful smirk.

Phoebe gasped, scandalized, and delivered a dramatic smack to Prue's arm.

Before Prue could retaliate, another voice rang out.

"Hey! Hey! Hey now!" Piper's sharp yet amused tone cut through the room as she strode in, expertly balancing a tray in her hands. "Don't bruise one of the brides."

Phoebe let out an exaggerated sigh, hanging her head in mock shame. "Sowwy," she mumbled in her signature 'baby Phoebe' voice, pouting up at Piper through her lashes.

Prue and Piper exchanged an amused glance before laughter spilled from them both.

"Oh, Phoebe," Prue sighed fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of her little sister's head before turning her attention to the tray Piper carried. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the delicious spread of breakfast goodies, and her lips pursed as she crossed her arms. "Now you, sweet girl," she said, fixing Piper with a pointed look. "What is that I ask?"

Piper grinned triumphantly, lifting her chin. "Breakfast fit for the brides," she announced proudly.

Prue's narrowed gaze darkened with warning, her mouth opening as if to protest, but Piper was quicker. She lifted a hand in preemptive defense. "I know you said no pampering," she cut in smoothly. "But you and Phoebe pampered me on my wedding day, so now we're going to do the same for you and Buffy."

Phoebe nodded along enthusiastically, her curls bouncing with the motion.

Piper smirked, her voice firm and final. "No room for discussion."

Prue's gaze darted between her two sisters and the tempting tray of food before a wide, joyful grin spread across her face. With an excited bounce on the bed, she gave in, her earlier resolve crumbling. "Okay!" she relented happily, crawling toward the tray like a child sneaking into a treasure trove.

The scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air, warm and inviting. Prue plucked a croissant from the plate—golden, flaky, still carrying the comforting warmth of the oven. The buttery layers glistened under the light, the rich red of strawberry jam peeking through as she took a bite. The combination melted in her mouth, and she hummed in delight.

"Mm… yummy," Prue praised through a mouthful, savoring the sweet and buttery goodness.

The second the words left her lips, Phoebe shot forward, her hand darting toward the tray—only to freeze mid-motion. Her head turned slowly to Prue, her eyes widening with an exaggerated, pleading expression.

Prue giggled, knowing exactly what her sister was asking without words. With an indulgent nod, she gave her blessing.

"YAY!" Phoebe squealed in celebration, snatching a chocolate-filled croissant with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. She took a dramatic first bite, her eyes fluttering closed as she let the rich chocolate filling coat her tongue.

Piper, watching her sisters with amusement, delicately picked up a croissant topped with plump raspberries. She bit into it, her lips pressing together in approval before a smug smile stretched across her face. "Wow! I am good," she declared with a self-satisfied nod.

Prue and Phoebe both chuckled at her unabashed confidence. "You're modest too," Prue muttered playfully, raising an eyebrow.

Piper's satisfied smirk dropped into a scowl, her gaze flicking between them. "Are any of us modest?" she countered pointedly, arms folding across her chest.

Both Prue and Phoebe shook their heads in perfect unison.

"Exactly!" Piper concluded with an exaggerated nod, popping another bite into her mouth triumphantly.

The moment settled into a comfortable rhythm, laughter softening the air. Then, Prue's expression shifted. A new kind of joy took over her face, something softer, deeper. She turned toward her sisters, her blue eyes shimmering with emotion as the biggest smile they had ever seen graced her lips. In a hushed, reverent whisper, she breathed, "I'm getting married today."

The words seemed to hang in the air, delicate and sacred.

Piper and Phoebe both stilled, taking in their sister's happiness. A warmth spread between them, an unspoken understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of this moment. "We know," they whispered back, just as quietly.

And then—

Prue squealed, breaking the tenderness of the moment with pure, uncontainable excitement.

As if on cue, the door swung open, and Buffy stepped into the room, fresh from her shower, her damp blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. She was now fully dressed, radiating that effortless confidence she always carried. "Morning, Piper. Morning, Phoebe," she greeted casually before her eyes landed on the tray of food. "Ooh, croissants." Without hesitation, she reached for a strawberry jam one, taking a generous bite. A delighted look crossed her face as she chewed, nodding in approval at Piper. "Delicious," she praised sincerely.

Piper, never one to turn down a compliment on her culinary skills, grinned and gave a small, proud bow. "Why, thank you," she said with mock sophistication.

Phoebe, meanwhile, was practically bouncing in place as she turned to Buffy, beaming with excitement. "Hi there, sister-in-law!" she greeted, her enthusiasm infectious.

Buffy chuckled, shaking her head at Phoebe's energy. "Not quite yet, Phoebe," she corrected with a smirk. Phoebe pouted dramatically before Buffy added, "But soon."

That seemed to satisfy Phoebe for a moment—until her eyes widened, a frown forming as if something just clicked in her mind. With a sudden gasp, she blurted out, "Why, why, why, why are you all dressed up?" Her tone was filled with exaggerated horror as her gaze flicked over Buffy's attire, now realizing that she wasn't in casual morning wear but something far more put-together.

Prue, who had just popped the last of her croissant into her mouth, wiped her hands delicately on a napkin before gracefully sliding off the bed. She shot Phoebe a knowing look before answering matter-of-factly, "Because Buffy's going to Sunnydale. Joyce, Cole, Rupert, and Buffy's friends are throwing her a bachelorette party."

"On your wedding day?" Piper repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. The very idea seemed absurd to her. "I would have thought…" she trailed off, struggling to grasp the logic behind such an unconventional plan.

Buffy, entirely unfazed by Piper's reaction, took another bite of her croissant, chewing thoughtfully before shrugging. "Mainly it's to pass the time till the ceremony," she explained, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. "Plus, it'll give me a chance to wash my hair."

Prue immediately perked up at that. "I have to agree with Buffy on that," she declared with sudden intensity, sitting up straighter. "I want to wash my hair or I'm not getting married," she added firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

Phoebe, sitting cross-legged on the bed, nodded her head so vigorously she nearly knocked over her own croissant. "Uh-huh," she agreed wholeheartedly, her expression turning sour. "We can't keep living with no electricity. It's medieval."

Piper sighed, her face scrunching in frustration as she took a sip of her coffee—only to immediately grimace in disgust. "Urgh! Gross! I hate instant coffee!" she exclaimed, holding the cup away from her like it was something offensive.

Prue, ever the sarcastic optimist, gave her a tight-lipped smile. "At least we're conserving energy," she pointed out, her voice laced with forced cheerfulness.

Piper shot her a flat look before dramatically dumping the rest of her coffee into the nearest plant.

Buffy, finishing the last bite of her croissant, dusted off her hands and pushed herself up from the bed. "Okay, I better go," she announced, brushing invisible crumbs from her shirt. Her gaze shifted to Piper, and she gave her a warm smile. "Thank you for breakfast, Piper."

Piper, despite her coffee grievance, gave a small proud nod. "You're welcome."

Buffy then turned her full attention to Prue, a soft fondness settling over her features. She reached for her bride, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her lips. "I will see you when you walk down the aisle." Another kiss, slower, more deliberate. "So to speak."

Phoebe, watching the exchange with sharp, suspicious eyes, folded her arms across her chest. Buffy turned to her next, sensing the unspoken warning before it even left Phoebe's lips.

"I promise I won't be late," Buffy assured, locking eyes with her soon-to-be sister-in-law.

Phoebe narrowed her gaze, her expression shifting into one of exaggerated scrutiny. A single nod followed—but just to be sure, she added a pointed glare for good measure.

Buffy smirked, clearly amused by the silent interrogation, then turned back to Prue. Her voice softened, eyes holding Prue's like they were the only two people in the world. "Love you."

Prue's face practically glowed as she smiled up at her. "Love you too. Now go."

Buffy pulled back, mischief twinkling in her eyes as she took a slow step backward. "Oh, by the way," she added nonchalantly, her tone dripping with something entirely too playful. "You should check the top drawer of your bedside table."

Prue's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Buffy smirked wider, turning on her heel, but not before adding, "But not until you're in your dress."

There was something in her voice, something knowing. A challenge.

Then, with a final wink, she shimmered out of the room, leaving Prue staring after her, a mix of curiosity and intrigue flickering in her expression.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Phoebe shook her head in frustration, her expression tight with barely restrained impatience. "This is ridiculous." She fumed, stomping into the kitchen where Piper was methodically clearing away the breakfast dishes. The scent of butter and jam still lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the tension crackling between them.

"We have to figure out when the Shocker Demon's gonna attack next and fast!" Phoebe declared; hands clenched into fists at her sides as she let out a slight huff.

Piper nodded, stacking plates with practiced efficiency. "But we still need the power of four to vanquish him, and unfortunately, number four lives across town." Her voice was tinged with frustration, her movements sharp as she wiped her hands on a dish towel.

Phoebe narrowed her eyes, determination flashing across her face. "I am going to call her." She announced, striding toward the phone resting on the counter beside the door.

Panic sparked in Prue's voice as she entered the kitchen, her eyes widening in alarm. "No! Not the cordless!" she cried out, but it was already too late.

Phoebe had already picked up the phone and pressed the call button.

A sudden crackle of electricity filled the air, a surge of blue-white light spiraling outward. The room was instantly bathed in an eerie glow as tendrils of energy curled and twisted together, forming the unmistakable silhouette of the Shocker Demon.

Phoebe's breath caught in her throat. "Uh-oh." The word barely left her lips before she dropped the phone as if it had burned her.

"Oh no!" Piper yelped, instincts kicking in as she lunged for her sisters, yanking them down just in time. A searing bolt of electricity sizzled past, scorching the air where they had been standing mere seconds before.

No sooner had they scrambled to their feet than the Shocker Demon struck again, sending another volatile charge their way. This time, the bolt fractured into three jagged streams of energy, each one targeting a sister.

Phoebe barely had time to react before the force of the blast hurled her backward. She crashed into the shelves behind her, sending spices and glass jars clattering to the floor. Meanwhile, Prue and Piper were flung in the opposite direction, crashing through the kitchen door and into the adjacent room.

Piper landed hard on the floor, the impact jarring her bones, while Prue went straight through the dining table, the wooden surface splintering beneath her weight.

A groan slipped from Piper's lips as she pushed herself up. "Oh, ow." She muttered under her breath, shaking off the daze and scrambling to her feet. Without hesitation, she darted back into the kitchen, flicking her wrists with sharp precision and sending the demon recoiling backward. It crackled violently before retreating into the nearest power socket with an electrical hiss.

Piper exhaled sharply, sagging against the doorframe, using it for support. "Ouch."

From the floor to her right, Phoebe let out a pained whimper. "Ouch."

Piper pushed away from the doorframe and turned to check on Prue, who was gingerly extracting herself from the wreckage of their dining table.

Prue winced, brushing splinters from her clothes as Piper reached out and hauled her up. "Ow!" She gasped, standing unsteadily. Both sisters turned toward the remains of their table, then exchanged a knowing glance. "We're using magic to fix that, right?" Prue asked, arching an eyebrow.

Piper nodded emphatically. "Oh yeah."

With a shared look of agreement, they stalked back into the kitchen, their frustration momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Phoebe sitting crumpled on the floor, cringing as she assessed the damage.

Phoebe peeked up at them through her lashes, a small, sheepish smile tugging at her lips. "I'm sowwy," she said, playing the 'baby Phoebe' card in a last-ditch effort to save herself.

Her two older sisters weren't buying it. Without hesitation, they grabbed her arms and yanked her sharply to her feet.

Phoebe's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ew, gross." She muttered, feeling something wet on her arm. She glanced down, her stomach twisting at the sight of blood smeared across her skin. "Oh… dear." Her voice was slow, almost detached, as realization set in.

Her gaze darted to the sister who had pulled her left arm. "Piper, your hand!" she gasped.

Piper frowned, confused, before following Phoebe's gaze. When she finally noticed the deep, raw gash running across her entire palm, her eyes widened. "Oh… ow." She muttered, flexing her fingers slightly, only to wince at the sharp sting radiating from the wound. "That stings. Ow!" She yelped, jumping as Prue instinctively prodded it for a better look.

"Stop that!" Piper snapped, pulling her hand away, then turned to Phoebe. Her expression shifted as her brows lifted. "Uh…" She hesitated before pointing at Phoebe's right leg. "Phoebe, your…" She gestured again, her mouth tightening.

Phoebe followed her sister's gaze and felt her breath hitch in her throat. "Ah!" She gasped, gingerly pressing her fingertips to the side of her thigh, only to recoil instantly as pain shot up her leg. "Ooh, ouchy!" She yelped, eyes widening at the deep gash beneath the torn fabric of her pants. "Oh, ow." She whimpered, sucking in a sharp breath.

"Um…" Prue called out; her voice slightly unsteady. The room's tension shifted as both Piper and Phoebe turned their attention to her. She grimaced, holding up her right hand, her fingertips smeared with fresh blood. She hesitated, her free hand moving to the side of her neck, fingers brushing over damp, sticky warmth. "I—I don't know where it's coming from." Her frown deepened as she absently touched the area again, frustration flickering across her face.

Piper, eyes narrowing with concern, made a circular motion with her finger. "Turn around." Prue obeyed, shifting so her back faced them. The moment Piper got a full view of the injury, she recoiled slightly, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh! Jeez!" she exclaimed, taking an instinctive step closer.

The wound was deep—an angry, jagged gash that started at the base of Prue's skull and ran down past her shoulder blades, her shirt already sticking to the wound from the blood that had seeped through.

Without hesitation, Piper threw her head back and yelled at the ceiling, "LEO!" Her voice rang out in desperation, echoing through the kitchen as Phoebe leaned in to inspect Prue's back further, her face scrunching up in discomfort at the sight.

A soft shimmer of orbs filled the room just seconds later, and Leo materialized in his usual gentle cascade of white and blue light. A bright, warm smile graced his lips as he arrived, his arms slightly outstretched. "Hi!" He greeted cheerfully, only for his expression to drop the moment he took in the disaster zone that was their kitchen—and more importantly, the battered state of the Charmed Ones. His eyes widened in alarm. "What happened?"

Phoebe, still scowling, crossed her arms and huffed, "Shocker Demon."

At the exact same time, both Prue and Piper shot her a look and said in unison, "Phoebe."

Phoebe gasped, rounding on them despite the sharp sting in her leg. "HEY!" she cried, jabbing an accusing finger in their direction. "I resent that!"

Leo, suppressing a chuckle despite the tension, quickly moved into action, his healer instincts kicking in. His gaze swept over the three sisters; concern etched into his features. "Here. Give me your hand, Piper." His voice was soft but firm as he reached for her.

Piper wordlessly extended her injured hand, wincing slightly as he took it gently in his own. Leo placed his other hand above it, his palms emanating a familiar golden glow.

Piper sighed in immediate relief as warmth spread through her palm, the pain dissolving into a comfortable tingling sensation. The wound slowly knitted itself back together, smooth skin replacing the deep gash. She smiled up at Leo, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you." Without hesitation, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"Me now!" Phoebe demanded, pointing impatiently at her wounded leg.

Leo chuckled and knelt down in front of her, repeating the same process. The healing light bathed her leg, and within moments, the pain melted away.

As soon as she felt the relief, Phoebe grinned. "Thanks, Leo!" she chirped before plopping into a chair at the breakfast table with a dramatic sigh.

Leo barely had time to straighten before Prue's quiet voice caught his attention. "Leo." He turned toward her without hesitation, already moving to address the deep wound on her back. As the healing warmth coursed through her, Prue let out a deep, contented sigh. "Thank you." She flashed him a small, appreciative smile, which he returned before stepping back.

A brief silence fell between them—until Prue turned sharply and fixed her gaze on the back of Phoebe's head.

Without warning, she lifted her hand and flicked her fingers outward.

"OW!" Phoebe yelped as she lurched forward in her seat, instinctively clutching the back of her head. "That hurt!" she whined, whipping around to glare at Prue, her lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

Prue smirked, casually flexing her fingers as she took a seat next to a still-fuming Phoebe.

Phoebe's eyes narrowed in outrage. "I can't believe you just head-slapped me!" she whined incredulously.

Leo chuckled; his warm brown eyes filled with quiet amusement as he knelt beside Piper. "Piper, I gotta—" he began, his voice low and affectionate. Piper, already knowing what was coming, nodded before he even finished. Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a quick, tender kiss to the top of her head before orbing out.

"This is crazy," Prue finally spoke, shaking her head as she exhaled sharply. Her brows furrowed in frustration, and she ran a hand through her tousled dark hair. "That—that shouldn't have happened. And it wouldn't have happened if Paige was here." She sighed heavily, her fingers tightening into a fist for a brief second before relaxing. The truth of it gnawed at her, and she hated admitting that they had been at a disadvantage.

Phoebe, still absently rubbing her sore thigh, nodded in agreement. "We need to call Paige and set up a time where she can come over and—"

"Phoebe, we can't schedule vanquishes, okay?" Piper interjected; her voice sharp with frustration. She turned to her sister with an exasperated expression. "Demon attacks don't usually fit into day planners."

Phoebe frowned but didn't argue.

Prue folded her arms and arched an eyebrow. "Then what do you suggest that we do, Piper?"

Piper hesitated, chewing her bottom lip in thought. The weight of her own thoughts pressed against her, and she struggled with voicing what she already knew made the most sense. Finally, after a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again. "I suggest that maybe…" she hesitated again before exhaling and pushing forward, "Paige move in with us."

The words came out quickly, as if saying them faster would make them easier to accept. But the second they left her lips, she immediately turned on her heel and busied herself with picking up the mess left behind from the fight, not wanting to face the reactions she knew were coming.

And sure enough, when she finally glanced up, Prue and Phoebe were still as statues, both staring at her with identical expressions of shock.

Phoebe was the first to break the stunned silence. She turned to Prue, who hadn't moved, her eyebrows still raised in disbelief. Then she slowly turned back toward Piper, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Wait," she muttered, twisting slightly in her seat as if she needed to reorient herself. "What did you just say to me?" She asked, her tone laced with disbelief as she studied Piper.

Piper merely shrugged as she picked up a jagged piece of broken wood from the floor. "Well, she's gonna have to sooner or later, isn't she?" Her voice was casual, but there was an underlying tension in it as she tried to make the idea sound more inevitable than radical.

Phoebe contemplated that for a long second, her lips parting slightly as if searching for a response. "I, uh… never really thought about it," she admitted quietly, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant. Then, with a sudden burst of incredulity, she shook her head and added, "And I can't believe you of all people are actually suggesting it!"

Piper let out an exasperated sigh and shot her an irritated look. "I'm just trying to be practical," she defended herself, though even she didn't look particularly thrilled about it. She tossed a broken piece of furniture onto the growing pile of debris. Her frustration finally boiled over as she continued. "Besides, I am sick and tired of Leo watching over her day and night, protecting her from various demons. You know, I—I would actually like to see my husband again."

That made Prue pause. She turned her gaze toward Piper, her sharp features softening slightly. "Okay, yes, Piper, we understand that, but…" she finally spoke, her tone gentler than before. She stepped forward, folding her arms as she took in her younger sister's tense posture. "Honey, missing your husband is not a good enough reason to suggest such a massive step forward," she pointed out.

Piper faltered, her hands stilling in the middle of picking up another broken piece of wood. For a moment, she didn't respond. Then, as if shaking it off, she resumed her task.

Prue narrowed her eyes, watching her carefully, then pushed herself up from her seat and strode toward Piper. She bent down, grabbed Piper's hands, and stilled them. "Leave it," she instructed firmly, her voice brooking no argument. "I'll fix it later. Now stand."

Piper hesitated but eventually let out a reluctant sigh and allowed Prue to pull her upright.

Prue held her gaze, her expression serious. "This is a huge decision," she stressed, making sure Piper truly understood the weight of what she was proposing.

Phoebe, still looking unsure, finally pushed herself up from her chair and joined them, standing between her sisters. She searched Piper's face before asking the question that had been nagging at her since the idea was first uttered. "Do you honestly think we're ready for that?" she asked, her voice quieter now, less incredulous and more thoughtful. She glanced between her two older sisters, hoping one of them had an answer.

Piper merely shrugged again, but this time, her expression was grim. "All I know is that every demon who wants to impress the Source is attacking us."

Phoebe exhaled, looking down at her feet, as if the reality of the situation was finally settling into her bones.

Prue, arms still crossed, glanced between both of her sisters before settling her gaze back on Piper as she continued.

"Which is why we all need to be under one roof," Piper explained, her voice firm. "Otherwise, we're too vulnerable—which the three of us clearly demonstrated just now."

Phoebe looked back up at her, her eyes searching Piper's for something unspoken. "I didn't mean, 'are we ready as witches…'" she said slowly, letting the weight of her words settle between them. She glanced between both her sisters, her gaze steady, serious. "I meant, 'are we ready as sisters?'"

The room seemed to shrink in the silence that followed. Piper sighed heavily, closing her eyes for a brief moment, her shoulders subtly tensing. Prue bit her lip, a rare moment of hesitation flickering across her usually confident expression, before exhaling sharply and placing her hands on her hips.

Phoebe lifted her hands slightly before letting them drop back to her sides in a small, helpless gesture. "I mean… what if we don't get along?" she asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with an edge of uncertainty.

Prue smirked, a knowing glint in her eye. "We don't always get along, Phoebe," she pointed out, her voice light but layered with years of history. It was the truth, one they had all lived through—arguments, misunderstandings, reconciliations.

Phoebe let out a small laugh, a wry smile curving her lips. "Yeah… but that's different." She gestured vaguely between them. "We grew up together. We had to get along eventually, and we did. This would be…" she trailed off, struggling to find the right words, her unease palpable.

Prue inhaled deeply, considering her sister's point, and then exhaled just as slowly. "You're right." She nodded, the admission reluctant but honest. "Maybe… maybe it's just too soon, but…"

Piper turned to look at her then, holding her gaze. "But there's only one way to find out," she finished.

Prue hesitated only a second before nodding in agreement, sealing the moment with quiet resolve.

Streets of Sunnydale

Willow walked briskly down the sunlit street; her mind focused on reaching Buffy's house. The air was warm, the morning casting long shadows across the pavement. She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, the weight of Buffy and Prue's wedding gift shifting slightly.

Behind her, hurried footsteps echoed, quickly closing the distance.

"Willow?"

Willow turned just as Lily caught up to her, slightly out of breath, her expression tight with anxiety.

"Can I talk to you?" Lily asked, her voice edged with unease.

Willow slowed her pace, noting the distress in Lily's face. "Sure," she said, concern creeping into her tone. "What is it?"

Lily swallowed hard, her hands twisting in the hem of her oversized hoodie. "Rickie's gone." Her voice wavered. "I mean, I haven't seen him since I saw you last night. I think something's happened. Maybe something's happened."

Willow frowned, her brows knitting together. "Well, did you talk to the police?" she asked.

Lily shook her head almost immediately, her body tensing. "Rickie's skipped on his parole," she said, her voice dropping. "They'd just…" She trailed off, her meaning clear. The police wouldn't help; they'd only see Rickie as a runaway, another troublemaker.

Willow hesitated, biting her lip. "Well, you could… I don't know, ask around and—"

Lily's desperation peaked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Can you or Buffy help me?" she pleaded, her voice cracking.

Willow's resolve hardened. "I'm heading over to Buffy's right now," she assured her, giving a firm nod.

Lily exhaled a shaky breath, her relief evident, though worry still clung to her features. She followed closely as they continued toward Buffy's house.

Paige's Apartment

The shrill screeching of her alarm clock shattered the quiet morning air, jolting Paige and Glen into a rude and unwelcome awakening. Paige groaned, barely mustering the energy to lift her arm before slamming her palm down on the alarm clock with more force than necessary, silencing its relentless screech. She exhaled heavily, letting her arm drop limply onto the mattress. "Oh my god! It's nine o'clock. I'm so screwed!" she gasped, though exhaustion still clung to her, tempting her to close her eyes again.

Beside her, Glen let out a muffled groan, his voice still thick with sleep. "Can't you just be a little late?" he asked, barely shifting under the tangled sheets.

"I'm already a little late," Paige muttered, rubbing a hand over her face, willing herself to wake up.

Glen shifted, his body stretching lazily as Paige rolled onto her side, attempting to force her tired muscles into motion. "Can't you be a lot late?" he suggested, his voice taking on a coaxing tone. He reached out, his fingers grazing her skin beneath the sheet. "Especially seeing as…" He trailed off as Paige pushed herself upright, clutching the sheet to her chest, "…how I'm leaving tomorrow?"

Paige resisted the urge to roll her eyes—not because she lacked the inclination, but because she was simply too exhausted to bother. Instead, she sighed, voice laced with dry amusement. "You're always leaving tomorrow, Glen. That's what you do." She peeled herself from the warm bed and moved toward the bathroom, the wooden floor cool beneath her bare feet.

She hadn't even made it halfway there when she felt his eyes burning into her back. She stopped, turning slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "What?" she asked, watching as his own smirk widened.

"Nine-to-five isn't you, Paige," Glen said, his voice carrying a certainty that made her arch a brow. "You've always had too adventurous a spirit to be pinned down."

Paige let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "Oh yeah?" she teased, crossing her arms. "Just drop by between K2 and the Great Barrier Reef, and you just know this about me, huh?"

Glen leaned back against the pillows, completely unfazed. "Your life could be a fairytale," he called after her as she disappeared into the bathroom. "And it doesn't have to end badly."

Paige peeked her head out from behind the partially closed door, her smirk playful. "Who says it's going to?" she countered before slipping back inside.

From the other side of the door, Glen's voice took on a more serious note. "Come to Australia with me, Paige," he practically pleaded. "Just for the hell of it. Why not?"

Paige poked her head out again, rolling her eyes. "Because I've got too many responsibilities, that's why not," she shot back.

Glen groaned, raking a hand through his tousled hair. "You're twenty-four years old, Paige!" he reminded her incredulously. "You've got the rest of your life ahead of you for that kind of crap. Just go for it! Dump your job. Come have fun with me." His enthusiasm was infectious, his words tempting, but Paige only sighed. (A/N)

"As tempting as that sounds," she said, stepping back into the room now dressed in a skirt and bra, "I actually have things called responsibilities." She repeated the word with exaggerated emphasis as if trying to hammer it into his head. Moving toward the bed, she grabbed her pink frilly top and plopped down beside him, tugging it over her head.

Glen scoffed, rolling his eyes. "What stuff?" he challenged.

Paige sighed, freeing her hair from inside her shirt. "Stuff… that keeps me pinned down," she admitted, voice quieter now, less teasing.

Glen shifted closer, his eyes studying her face as if searching for cracks in her resolve. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked, his voice gentler this time.

Paige hesitated, looking away as uncertainty flickered in her eyes. "I'm not sure yet," she admitted softly.

For a brief moment, they simply stared at each other, the weight of unspoken things hanging between them. Then, as if on instinct, she leaned back into him, and with that, they fell together once again, losing themselves in the fleeting moment.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Prue, Piper, and Phoebe stormed down the dimly lit hallway, their footsteps echoing against the wooden floor as they marched straight toward Paige's apartment door. Determination radiated off them, their expressions set with purpose. As they reached the door, Phoebe lifted her hand to knock—only to find herself rapping her knuckles against something unexpectedly solid and warm.

Startled, Phoebe blinked up and realized she was knocking on Leo's chest. "Oh! Sorry," she said quickly, flashing him an apologetic smile as she dropped her hand.

Leo, looking slightly nervous, returned her smile with an uneasy one of his own. "Hi!" he greeted a little too brightly, shifting his weight as if trying to block the door. "Hey, uh… what's up?"

Piper, unimpressed by his awkward demeanor, folded her arms across her chest. "What's up?" she repeated, her tone dry. "How about a kiss for your long-lost wife, huh?" She fixed him with a fake, saccharine smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Leo perked up as if suddenly remembering his role, quickly leaning down and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Oh, right!" he said hastily.

Piper beamed up at him with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Hi!" she greeted, her grin widening.

Leo chuckled, though it was tinged with nervousness, then straightened up and edged back against the door as if bracing himself. "Well…." he began, voice trailing off. "…Bye."

Three sets of eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion.

"Excuse me?" Prue asked, her sharp tone making it clear she wasn't about to accept that.

Phoebe arched a brow, looking him up and down. "What do you mean bye? We just got here."

Leo nodded quickly, shifting again as if considering his escape. "Right. Well, you know, I don't want to leave Paige unprotected, so…" He gestured vaguely toward the door, hoping they would take the hint and let it go.

Piper was having none of it. "Uh-huh," she said, her eyes narrowing further as she took a step forward. "Is she home?" She reached for the doorknob, but Leo immediately moved to block her path, pressing his back against the door as a makeshift barrier.

"Yeah, she's home," he confirmed, his voice a little too casual. "She's just a little, uh… indisposed at the moment."

Prue's eyes darkened with realization, her gaze flicking between Leo's nervous expression and the door behind him. "Indisposed?" she repeated slowly, the word rolling off her tongue with growing suspicion.

Phoebe's jaw suddenly dropped as the implication hit her like a freight train. Beside her, Prue and Piper had identical expressions of shock and dawning horror.

"Wait." Piper frowned, holding up a hand as if to pause the entire situation. "Wait, wait. You watch?" Her face scrunched up in disgust, her voice almost incredulous. "What are you, like a peeping angel?"

Leo's eyes widened in sheer panic. "Wha—I didn't see anything!" he sputtered defensively, his voice taking on the unmistakable tone of a whiny child caught doing something they shouldn't.

Piper wasn't convinced. She shot him a look—one of those looks, the kind that made husbands everywhere reconsider their life choices.

Leo wilted under her gaze, his shoulders slumping. "Well… alright, just a little," he admitted with a wince. "But how else am I supposed to protect her?" His voice held a note of desperation, as if genuinely pleading his case.

All three sisters fixed Leo with a piercing, relentless stare, their expressions a mix of scrutiny and disbelief. They stood frozen for only a moment before, as if moving with a single-minded determination, they surged past him in unison, ignoring his futile attempt to block the way.

"SORRY TO INTERRUPT!" Phoebe hollered as she strode confidently into Paige's apartment, throwing a hand over her eyes in a dramatic display of modesty. She kept her fingers slightly splayed just in case, much like she had earlier that morning when barging into Prue's room. "Can't see a thing!" she added quickly as Piper and Prue charged in right behind her, their urgency overriding any sense of personal boundaries.

A startled gasp echoed through the room.

"PHOEBE!" Paige shrieked in sheer outrage as she scrambled off Glen, clutching at her now-discarded top in a frantic attempt to cover herself. Her face flushed crimson, whether from anger or sheer mortification, as she yanked the fabric tightly against her chest.

Phoebe, oblivious to the chaos she'd just caused, continued marching further into the room—until Piper abruptly grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her back to stand beside her, forcing her to remain in line with the other two. Prue, standing firm on Phoebe's other side, folded her arms and fixed Paige with a measured look.

Paige gawked at them, her eyes bouncing between their faces before landing on Leo, who still stood awkwardly in the doorway like a guilty bystander to a crime scene. "Prue, Piper… LEO?!" she exclaimed, her voice rising an octave as her surprise morphed into sheer disbelief. She clutched her top tighter around herself, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded furiously.

Phoebe, still shielding her eyes with exaggerated care, lifted one hand in a reassuring gesture. "I know this looks bad, but it's very important," she insisted. Then, as she finally peeked through her fingers, her gaze landed on Glen—shirtless, tousled, and clearly caught in the act. Her eyebrows shot up. "Whoa!" she blurted, momentarily stunned.

Piper rolled her eyes and immediately smacked Phoebe's arm. "Focus!" she snapped.

"OW!" Phoebe yelped, rubbing her arm as she shot Piper a wounded look.

Prue, having turned to finally take in Glen herself, couldn't help but mirror Phoebe's reaction. "Whoa," she muttered, her brows lifting as she took in the unexpected sight before her.

Without missing a beat, Piper huffed in exasperation and whacked Prue's arm just as she had done to Phoebe. "Honestly," she muttered, shaking her head.

"OW!" Prue yelped, her reflexes kicking in as she promptly retaliated, smacking Piper right back.

"OUCH!" Piper winced, clutching her arm and glaring at Prue while Phoebe, despite herself, chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Meanwhile, Glen, who had been observing the bizarre exchange with increasing amusement, finally turned to Paige with an easygoing grin. "Who are they?" he asked, his tone more curious than alarmed as he studied the three uninvited guests who had just burst into his morning.

Paige, still fuming, shot her sisters a withering glare. "The soon-to-be ex-sisters I was telling you about," she ground out, her grip on her top still iron-tight as she barely resisted the urge to throw them all out herself.

"Hey!" Prue objected, her brows shooting up in offense as she pointed a finger at Paige.

Piper, taking a step forward, exhaled heavily before plastering on a sarcastic smile. "Okay! We're sorry," she offered in mock sincerity. Then, barely suppressing a smirk, she added, "But, you know, we didn't know witch way to turn—if you know what I mean?" She waggled her eyebrows meaningfully.

Paige rolled her eyes at Piper's pun, the not-so-subtle reference landing with an audible thud between them. Prue gave her a knowing smile, Phoebe grinned like she was thoroughly enjoying the chaos, and Piper simply smirked, looking rather pleased with herself.

Glen, who had been observing the bizarre exchange with an air of amused resignation, let out a slow breath and glanced between Paige and her intrusive sisters. "Maybe… I should go," he said carefully, pushing back the covers and sitting up in bed, his movements unhurried but decisive.

Leo, who had been standing awkwardly nearby, immediately sprang into action, grabbing Glen's jeans off the floor and tossing them to him as though assisting in a hasty evacuation. "Oh uh… here," he said, his discomfort practically radiating off him.

Glen caught them with ease. "Thanks," he replied casually before pulling them on with practiced efficiency, seemingly unfazed by the absurdity of the situation.

Paige sighed and turned to him, still holding her top tightly around herself. "I'm sorry about this, Glen," she said, her voice dripping with exasperation. "This is horribly embarrassing."

Glen waved off her concern with an easygoing smile. "No worries," he assured her smoothly, buttoning his jeans as he glanced toward the three women still standing in his girlfriend's apartment like an impromptu intervention. "You've obviously got some… responsibilities." His tone was teasing but laced with genuine observation. Then, leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and murmured, "My plane leaves tomorrow." With that, he grabbed his shirt from a nearby chair and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the sisters in tense silence.

Prue frowned, crossing her arms as she latched onto his parting words. "Plane?" she repeated, the question sharp.

Piper's eyes narrowed as she turned to Paige. "What plane?" she pressed, suspicion thick in her voice.

Paige, whose patience was already wearing dangerously thin, shot them both a glare. "Never mind," she snapped. "This better be important."

Without missing a beat, Prue turned to her sharply, as if suddenly remembering her own crisis. "I need to wash my hair! For my wedding!" she burst out, her eyes wide with urgency, as if this was the most pressing issue in the room.

Paige blinked, completely thrown by the outburst, before Piper cut in, her tone turning businesslike. "So, have you been attacked by the Shocker Demon yet?" she asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Paige frowned and shook her head. "No, she hasn't," Leo answered before she could, his voice firm and certain.

Paige's frown deepened. "How would you know?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing at him.

Phoebe, ever the helpful one, chimed in lightly, her tone almost playful. "Oh… because he's been watching you," she informed Paige with a casual shrug. "For your own protection."

Paige's eyes widened in sheer indignation. "You've been watching me?" she demanded, her voice rising in disbelief.

Leo, looking more flustered by the second, immediately lifted his hands in defense. "I didn't see anything," he repeated, his tone a mix of exasperation and weak reassurance.

Phoebe smirked, crossing her arms and throwing a not-so-subtle glance toward the bathroom door. "At least nothing very interesting," she added teasingly, her voice dripping with mischief.

Paige's nostrils flared, but before she could bite back, Prue took over, her voice rising with authority. "But that is not the point!" she declared, throwing her hands up for emphasis. She gestured fiercely at herself, Piper, and Phoebe. "The point is that we have been attacked by the Shocker Demon!" Her expression was a mixture of frustration and urgency. "And we got hurt, which is why—"

She didn't get to finish.

"That's it!" Paige suddenly exploded, cutting Prue off mid-sentence. With a fierce toss of her covers, she flung them aside and jumped to her feet. "OUT!" she bellowed, her patience officially snapping as she started shoving her sisters toward the door with a forceful determination.

Piper, stumbling slightly under the unexpected assault, tried to protest. "But, but, but we need to talk to you about the Shocker Demon because—"

"OUT!" Paige yelled again, her fury escalating as she continued her relentless herding.

Phoebe, sensing the window for persuasion rapidly closing, jumped in hastily. "We can't vanquish him without the Power of Four—"

Prue, seeing where this was heading, rushed to finish the thought. "And you're not at the Manor, so… ever!" she blurted out, hoping that last bit of guilt might buy them some time.

It didn't.

With a final shove, Paige forcefully propelled them over the threshold and, without a second's hesitation, slammed the door in their faces.

Outside, all three sisters gasped in unison, momentarily stunned by the abrupt ejection. Prue was the first to recover, her expression hardening with resolve. With a dramatic shake of her head, she reached out and threw the door back open.

Paige whirled around and gawked at her eldest sister, utterly incredulous.

Prue, however, merely smiled sweetly, as if the last thirty seconds of sheer chaos hadn't happened. "You're still coming to my wedding, though, right?" she asked in an innocent tone, tilting her head like she wasn't baiting her.

Paige's eyes narrowed into furious slits. "OUT, PRUE!" she shrieked, her entire body vibrating with rage as she shoved Prue backwards with all her strength.

Prue stumbled slightly but recovered quickly, grinning as she added playfully, "You can bring your friend!"

That was the final straw.

"GET OUT!" Paige roared, her voice nearly shaking the walls as she slammed the door shut with such force that the entire frame rattled.

Outside, Prue gasped as if personally offended, placing a hand over her chest. "How dare she!" she huffed indignantly before yelling through the door, "THAT WAS RUDE, PAIGE LOUISE MATTHEWS!" She punctuated her outrage by slamming her palm against the wood when she reached Matthews. "Very rude!" she added for good measure before spinning back toward Piper and Phoebe.

A long silence stretched between the three of them.

Then, completely deadpan, Phoebe finally spoke. "I think that went fairly well."

Piper groaned and Prue rolled her eyes, but they both turned and started making their way back down the hall, shaking their heads as they rounded the corner.

Inside, Paige exhaled sharply, pressing her back against the door as she listened to their retreating footsteps. She shook her head in disbelief before throwing her hands up.

"Unbelievable!" she cried, still seething.

Summers Home

Buffy stood in the center of her living room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she surveyed the expectant faces around her. Xander slouched on the couch, idly twirling a stake between his fingers, while Giles sat beside him, his usual composed demeanor in place but his keen eyes locked onto the conversation. Cole leaned casually against the wall, his arms folded, a quiet observer. Willow perched on the arm of the couch, hands clasped in her lap, her expression full of the unwavering support that only a best friend could offer. Joyce, standing near the kitchen, watched Buffy carefully, concern flickering in her warm eyes.

Buffy, however, had her focus set on Lily, the young woman standing anxiously in front of her. "You have not seen your boyfriend since last night?" she repeated, her voice laced with a growing sense of frustration.

Lily nodded quickly, wringing her hands together. "That's right." Her voice was tight, laced with barely contained worry.

Buffy exhaled sharply, glancing toward Willow as if looking for an escape route. Her night was supposed to go differently—"We're supposed to be having my pre-wedding-slash-bachelorette party, Willow." Her tone was exasperated as she gestured vaguely around the room, her eyes darting between the people assembled. "Now you want me…" She trailed off, her fingers twitching like they wanted to wrap around a weapon rather than deal with a missing boyfriend mystery.

Lily, sensing Buffy's reluctance, took a desperate step forward, pulling the Slayer's gaze back to her. "Please, Buffy." Her voice wavered, pleading, but there was steel underneath it. "It's unlike him to be gone like this—this long."

Buffy hesitated, her irritation flickering as she took in the raw fear in Lily's eyes. The girl's fingers twisted together, her body tense with barely restrained worry. It was clear this wasn't just a case of a forgetful boyfriend or a lovers' spat—this was something deeper, something that sent icy tendrils of dread creeping into Lily's voice.

Before Buffy could respond, Cole stepped forward, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. His voice was calm, steady, carrying the weight of reason. "Elizabeth, if we work together, we can get this squared away in time for your wedding tonight. Besides, it's not like you to walk away from someone in trouble."

Buffy exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair as she processed his words. She hated when Cole was right—especially when he used her own instincts against her. A part of her still wanted to protest, to remind them all that this was supposed to be her day, but another part, the part that had been shaped by battle and sacrifice, knew she couldn't ignore this.

She sighed, shoulders dropping slightly as she relented. "Fine," she muttered, shooting a half-hearted glare at Cole before looking back at Lily. "Let's find your missing boyfriend."

October 17, 1350 – Wednesday

Royal Castle

The air in the dimly lit chamber crackled with tension as the very handsome young man, clad in gleaming chain-mail armor, stormed forward, his voice echoing with unrestrained fury. "Where is she?" he demanded, his sharp gaze locking onto the woman before him. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, knuckles whitening as his every muscle tensed with barely contained rage. "What have you done with my beloved?"

Across the room, lounging with unsettling ease, the Enchantress tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, knowing smirk. The candlelight flickered over her dark silken robes, casting shadows that danced eerily across the stone walls. "You mean I'm not your beloved?" she cooed mockingly, placing a hand on her chest in an exaggerated display of heartbreak. "Ooh, I'm crushed." Her voice dripped with venomous sarcasm as she gazed at him through heavily lidded eyes.

The Prince's expression darkened, his patience fraying. With a swift motion, he drew his sword, the sharp blade glinting ominously as he leveled it at her neck. "Your dark magic doesn't scare me, Enchantress," he growled, his voice cold and unwavering. "Tell me where she is, and I just might spare your life." His words were laced with a deadly promise, his stance firm and unyielding.

A slow chuckle escaped the Enchantress's lips, rich and sultry, as if she found his bravado amusing. "Very well," she purred, raising one delicate finger and lightly pressing it against the tip of his blade, effortlessly pushing it downward. "Your beloved is right here, my Prince."

Before he could react, she flicked her wrist and tossed a small velvet pouch at his feet. The moment it hit the ground, it erupted into a swirling cloud of dark smoke, tendrils of shimmering mist curling through the air like enchanted serpents.

Her voice rang out, smooth and spellbinding, as she wove her magic, "Bring together my Prince and me. Let him fall on bended knee. I summon him to my side, that he may take me to be his destined bride."

As the last syllable left her lips, the thick smoke dissipated, revealing the Prince standing eerily still. His piercing eyes, once filled with defiance, had softened into a dreamy haze. Without hesitation, he sheathed his sword and sank to one knee before her, reverence etched into every line of his face.

The Enchantress's smirk deepened; her victory absolute.

"My love," the Prince murmured, taking her hand in his and pressing his lips to her smooth skin. "I am forever yours." His voice held a worshipful devotion as he rose to his feet, stepping behind her. His strong hands traced a path over her shoulders before his lips found the curve of her neck, pressing a lingering kiss against her skin.

The Enchantress let out a satisfied sigh, leaning into his touch, her fingers trailing lazily along his chestplate. Her eyes gleamed with wicked delight as she whispered to herself, "As will your kingdom, once I conceive an heir."

A slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips as she took his hand and led him towards the grand canopy bed, where her conquest would soon be complete.

August 14, 1998 – Friday

Halliwell Manor

The insistent knocking echoed through the Halliwell Manor, growing more aggressive by the second. Piper groaned, throwing her hands in the air as she stomped toward the front door. "Alright! Calm down!" she yelled, exasperation lacing her tone. With a firm yank, she flung the door open, revealing Paige standing on the threshold, her arms crossed and an unmistakable scowl on her face.

"At least I knocked," Paige greeted tersely, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Without waiting for an invitation, she shoved past Piper and into the Manor, unceremoniously dropping her bag by the door with a heavy thud.

Piper's eyes widened as she watched her half-sister storm through the house, an invisible cloud of tension following in her wake. "Oh." The single syllable slipped out in a breath of surprise.

From the living room, Phoebe beamed, completely unfazed by Paige's sour mood. "Hey, Paige!" she greeted cheerfully, waving as if nothing had happened.

Paige, however, merely shot her a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

Before Piper could say anything, a commanding voice rang out from the conservatory, laced with urgency. "No-no, no! Careful, please!"

Piper's eyes twitched at the sound. She didn't need to see Prue to know she was probably barking orders at someone—or something. Keeping her gaze locked on Paige, she raised her voice. "PRUE!"

There was a slight pause before Prue emerged into the foyer, brushing her hands off as if she'd just finished dealing with some kind of minor catastrophe. "Yes?" she responded smoothly before spotting Paige. Her expression shifted, forced politeness stretching across her face. "Oh, hi, Paige."

Paige, in turn, pasted on a stiff, obligatory smile before immediately turning for the stairs. "I'm not here to talk to any of you," she informed them coldly, her heels clicking with purpose against the hardwood floor. "I'm just here to look at the Book of Shadows." She barely spared them a glance over her shoulder.

Phoebe, still hopeful, furrowed her brows and folded her arms. "Hey! Hey! We said we were sorry." There was an edge of frustration in her tone now, her usual patience starting to wear thin.

Paige scoffed, rolling her eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't get stuck. "Yeah, right."

Before another snarky retort could be fired, Piper suddenly spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "What do you think about moving in with us?"

The question landed like a bomb in the room. Prue and Phoebe both snapped their heads toward Piper, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and alarm.

"Piper?" Prue hissed under her breath, her glare promising a long discussion about this later.

Paige, meanwhile, froze mid-step, her back stiffening before she turned, her eyes narrowed in cautious skepticism. "Excuse me?"

Piper met her gaze without hesitation. "Well, that's what we came to talk to you about," she explained with a small shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You know, we're tired of getting attacked by demons here and not being able to do anything about it."

Phoebe quickly picked up the thread, stepping forward with a soft, encouraging smile. "Yeah, but we could do something about it if we were all together," she added, her tone light and hopeful. "You know, if we lived together, because that's when we're the strongest." She smiled again.

"And…" Prue chimed in smoothly, stepping forward with an air of confidence, "…it would make our lives a whole lot easier and safer." She finished with a decisive nod, as if the logic of their proposal was undeniable.

Phoebe, ever the optimist, beamed at Paige, her voice laced with hopeful enthusiasm. "What do you say?"

Paige stood still for a moment, her lips curving into an overly sweet, clearly forced smile. Her eyes, however, burned with something far less pleasant. The saccharine expression lasted only a beat before it melted into a look of utter incredulity. "Are you three out of your freaking minds?" she blurted, her voice laced with exasperation and a hint of disgust. Before anyone could respond, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed up the stairs, her heavy footfalls echoing through the Manor.

A brief silence followed her dramatic exit.

Piper raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in thought. "Don't people usually storm out of the house when they're angry?" she mused, her lips twitching in amusement.

Phoebe let out a chuckle, shaking her head, but Prue, ever the serious one, shot her a disapproving glare that quickly sobered the mood. "What the hell, Piper?" Prue demanded, turning on her younger sister with a mix of frustration and disbelief. "That is not how you ask someone to uproot their life and move in with people who are basically strangers to them."

Phoebe sighed, running a hand through her hair. "But we're not strangers, Prue," she argued, her voice tinged with quiet determination. "We're her sisters."

Prue let out a slow, measured breath before shaking her head. "Not right now, we're not," she countered, her voice firm but not unkind. She glanced toward the stairs, her expression thoughtful. "Did you see the look on her face?"

Both Piper and Phoebe fell silent, the weight of that question sinking in.

"Yeah…" Piper finally spoke, scratching her chin in contemplation. "That went about as well as earlier, huh?"

Sunnydale Blood Bank

Buffy and Lily stepped into the dimly lit room, the air thick with a faint metallic scent. The space had the sterile yet neglected feel of a rundown clinic, its yellowing fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Against the back wall, a row of worn-out dentist chairs sat occupied by weary-looking individuals, their arms extended as tubes siphoned blood into bags. A low hum of murmured conversation mixed with the soft beep of medical equipment. The sight made Buffy's stomach twist, though Lily didn't seem fazed.

In front of them, a scuffed counter held a cluttered mess of a phone, an open filing cabinet overflowing with papers, and a cup of lukewarm coffee. Behind it, a tired-looking woman named Joan—probably in her late thirties, with faded red hair pulled into a loose ponytail—was assisting one of the donors, her expression neutral, as though she'd seen it all before.

Lily glanced around nostalgically. "We gave blood a lot of times because you get a few bucks and they have cookies," she said casually, watching the donors with something close to familiarity.

Buffy gave her a sidelong glance, arching an eyebrow. "You're a fan of the sugar rush, aren't you?"

Lily shrugged. "It's nice."

At that moment, Joan finished with the donor and turned her attention toward them, stepping forward with a polite but disinterested smile. "Hi. Are you here to donate blood?" she asked, her voice scratchy from years of overuse.

"No," Buffy answered quickly, shaking her head. "I have a rare blood condition." Her tone was flippant, but her eyes remained sharp, scanning the room for any sign of Rickie. "We're looking for a friend."

Lily took a small step forward. "Rickie T? We come in sometimes…" she added hopefully, her voice carrying an edge of worry now.

Joan's brow furrowed in mild recognition. "Rickie, sure. He's not here…"

Buffy leaned in slightly. "Has he been in, do you know? In the last few hours or maybe last night?"

Joan exhaled, turning toward the counter. "Let me check the sheet." She flipped through a few pages, her chipped nails tapping against the paper as she searched for a name that wasn't there. A moment later, she looked up and shook her head. "Sorry, guys. He hasn't been here."

Lily's face fell, but Buffy nodded. "Thanks."

As they turned to leave, Joan called after them with a hint of sympathy. "I'll tell him you were looking…"

Buffy didn't slow down, pushing through the door and stepping into the humid night air, her mind already working through their next move. The streetlights buzzed softly above, casting long shadows as she spotted Xander leaning against a nearby lamppost, waiting for them.

"Anything?" he asked as they approached.

Buffy exhaled sharply. "Nothing."

Xander frowned, but before he could say anything, Buffy turned to him decisively. "Xander, why don't you take Lily with you and check with Willy? I'll meet you back at the house."

Xander hesitated only a second before nodding. "Okay."

As he and Lily walked off into the night, Buffy remained still for a moment, glancing down the darkened street, her instincts telling her that something wasn't right. Then, with a firm set of her jaw, she turned and disappeared into the shadows, already on the hunt.

Halliwell Manor

Phoebe stormed into the attic, her expression tense with frustration. "So, you're not even going to consider this?" she demanded, her voice edged with disbelief.

Paige, seated at the Book of Shadows with her fingers rapidly flipping through its ancient pages, barely spared her a glance. "Nope," she replied curtly, her focus locked onto the book as if it held the key to avoiding this entire conversation.

Piper, frowning, folded her arms. "Why not?" she pressed, her tone carrying equal parts confusion and exasperation.

At that, Paige's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Because if it was that easy for you guys to barge into my room all the way across town, then imagine how easy it would be if I lived here!" she snapped before promptly turning back to the book, flipping the pages with renewed determination.

Prue, who had entered silently behind Piper, let out a sigh and stepped forward. "Okay, could you just stop looking at the book for one second?" she asked, her voice laced with exhaustion.

"No!" Paige shot back without missing a beat, shaking her head defiantly. "It's my book too."

Piper scowled, shifting her weight impatiently. "If you lived here, you could look at it all the time."

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Prue suddenly exploded, her voice ringing through the attic as she planted her hands firmly on her hips. The commanding force in her voice made everyone freeze. She turned to Piper first. "Stop it," she ordered sharply, leaving no room for argument. Then, she pivoted to face Paige, pointing an authoritative finger at her.

"And you, missy, better drop the attitude right now!" Prue continued sternly.

Paige opened her mouth, her expression already forming into a rebuttal, but Prue cut her off before she could even start.

"No! I don't wanna hear any of that 'you can't tell me what to do' crap because I can and I am!" she stated matter-of-factly. "I am your eldest sister, and I care about you—we all do. And I know you care about us too."

Paige's glare softened just a fraction, but she remained silent, arms crossed in stubborn defiance.

Prue sighed and gestured between Piper and Phoebe. "Look, what we did earlier this morning was rude and intrusive, I'll give you that. But we're your sisters—it's our job to get on your nerves." She smirked, tilting her head. "These two piss me off all the time."

"HEY!" Piper and Phoebe yelled in unison, looking equally offended.

Paige couldn't stop the giggle that slipped past her lips, and despite herself, her shoulders relaxed slightly.

Prue grinned, seizing the moment. "See? It's fun having sisters. And I know the magic stuff can kinda suck sometimes, but that's just part of the deal."

Paige's fingers stilled on the pages of the Book of Shadows. She exhaled deeply before finally speaking. "I understand why you guys are asking me," she admitted, her voice softer now, calmer. She turned to look at them, her usual snark giving way to raw honesty. "I really, really do. It's just…" she hesitated, pressing her lips together before continuing, "I don't want being a witch to take over my life." Her voice dropped slightly, as if saying it out loud made the weight of it feel even heavier. "It's just… too much responsibility."

Prue's expression shifted, the sharpness in her gaze softening into something far more understanding. "Oh, Paige… we know."

Piper, who had been standing, moved to sit down on the chair next to Phoebe, her expression gentler now. Prue leaned against the armrest, crossing her arms in thought.

Phoebe took over, her voice warm with reassurance. "Believe me, Paige, I freaked out in the beginning too. We all did." She cast a pointed look at Piper, her smirk playful. "Especially Piper."

Piper rolled her eyes but didn't argue, merely letting out a small huff.

Phoebe continued, her tone turning a little more serious. "But we didn't have a choice. And…" she hesitated briefly before speaking the next words, "neither do you." She said it gently, but firmly.

Paige frowned, her arms tightening around herself. "Why not?" she challenged, her voice carrying a hint of defiance. "Aren't you the one who told me I should fight like hell to keep a life separate from magic?"

Phoebe sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Unfortunately, it doesn't always work out that way."

Paige barely lifted her head as she muttered under her breath, "Well, maybe it would if I didn't live here." She turned back to the Book of Shadows, clearly signaling that, as far as she was concerned, the conversation was over.

Phoebe, not one to let things go so easily, tilted her head. "If you're looking for the Shocker demon spell, we already found it." Her voice was light, but her eyes were sharp, watching Paige closely. Piper and Prue exchanged a glance, equally attentive to their youngest sister's movements.

Paige exhaled, placing one hand on her hip. "I'm not," she said curtly. "I'm looking for something else."

Phoebe opened her mouth to ask what exactly Paige was searching for, but before the words could leave her lips, the Book of Shadows trembled beneath Paige's fingertips. Without warning, its thick, timeworn pages began flipping on their own, rustling like dry leaves caught in an invisible wind.

Paige gasped, stumbling back, her heart pounding. "Oh my God!" she yelped, her breath hitching as she stared wide-eyed at the book.

To her astonishment, her sisters remained perfectly calm. Prue, Piper, and Phoebe sat unmoved, their expressions ranging from mild interest to slight amusement as they waited for the pages to stop turning.

Piper finally broke the silence, offering a small, knowing smile. "Yeah… they do that on their own sometimes. It's usually Grams' doing." She explained it as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

Paige blinked, still trying to process what had just happened, and slowly nodded. "Right. Totally normal. Haunted book. Got it."

Prue leaned forward slightly, her eyes flicking over the open page. "You might as well read the spell," she advised. "Grams can be very persistent."

Paige hesitated, glancing between her sisters and the book as uncertainty flickered across her face. Phoebe gave her an encouraging nod, smiling.

Paige took a breath and began chanting, her voice steady but slow. "Oh-kay, uh… Hear these words. Hear my cry. Spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the great divide."

The moment the last word left her lips, an eerie hush fell over the attic. Piper and Phoebe shot up out of their seats as if an invisible force had jolted them upright.

"Whoa… wait a minute," Piper blurted, her eyes darting between her sisters in alarm.

"The summoning spell?" Phoebe repeated, her face scrunching in confusion.

Prue's frown deepened, her stomach twisting with unease. "Oh no." The words barely escaped her lips before two ghostly figures flickered into view beside Piper, their translucent forms gradually solidifying into recognizable shapes.

A warm, familiar voice rang through the attic. "Hello, my darlings!"

Piper let out a startled yelp, spinning around with wide eyes. Her hand flew to her chest as she gasped. "GRAMS!" Her gaze then shifted in shock to the second figure standing beside her grandmother. "Mom?" Her voice wavered as her eyebrows shot up. "What, what, what are you guys doing here?"

"Not that we're not really happy to see you!" Phoebe added hastily, a wide grin spreading across her face.

Grams turned to Prue with a delighted smile, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "Well, we're here for Prudence, of course."

Prue, still reeling, blinked in confusion. "Huh?" She barely managed to form words, her mind scrambling to catch up. "I'm sorry, but I—I—I didn't call for you."

Patty, her expression radiant, stepped forward and gently took Prue's hands in hers. "We know that, sweetheart," she assured her warmly. Then, her face lit up with excitement as she beamed at her eldest daughter. "But you're getting married!" she practically squealed, her smile stretching ear to ear.

Prue's eyes widened, her mind momentarily blanking before she forced out an awkward smile. "Oh… yeah, right, uh… that." The forced enthusiasm in her voice didn't go unnoticed, and her mother's warm expression faltered into a soft frown.

"I mean, honestly, dear," Grams interjected, stepping forward to stand beside Patty, both women now facing Prue expectantly. "Did you really think we would miss this?" Her tone was half-scolding, half-incredulous, her sharp gaze pinning Prue in place.

Prue's eyes grew even wider as she turned toward her sisters, silently begging them for support. When none immediately came, she let out a nervous chuckle and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh… but you're gonna have to," she admitted sheepishly. "Miss it, I mean." She bit her lip, her shoulders tensing as she braced for their reactions. The moment their faces fell into sadness, guilt rushed through her, and she scrambled to explain. "Sorry. It's just that… well, it's not a magical handfasting thingy like Leo and Piper had." She rushed through her words, her hands gesturing wildly as she tried to soften the blow.

Grams' lips pursed, and her expression darkened slightly. "Oh…" she said slowly, turning away from Prue as if wounded.

Prue sighed, rolling her eyes at the dramatic reaction before stepping closer. "Oh, Grams, I'm sorry, okay? It's just that a minister is coming to the house, and the ceremony is going to be held right here in the conservatory." She gestured, trying to make them see reason. "On top of that, while Buffy's friends all know about the supernatural, they're still mortal. Which means they're not exactly expecting ghosts to be present."

Grams narrowed her eyes slightly, her arms crossing over her chest. "Will Victor be present?" she asked, her voice tinged with tight disapproval.

"Of course, he'll be here, Grams," Prue said, exasperated. "He's, my father. He's gonna walk me down the makeshift aisle and hand me over to my new life—the whole shebang!" She waved her hands dramatically before adding, "Just like Buffy is having her adoptive mother and her father figure walk her down the makeshift aisle."

Grams raised her eyebrows, clearly unimpressed, while Patty let out a long-suffering sigh before turning to her mother. "Mother, stop," she said firmly before offering Prue a sad but understanding smile. "We understand, honey."

Piper, still processing everything, furrowed her brows in confusion. "I thought Cole would walk Buffy down the aisle since he is Buffy's biological brother."

Prue shook her head. "Cole will stand beside Rupert when they step up to announce who gives Buffy to me," she clarified. Then, she turned back to Patty and Grams, her expression softening. "You're welcome to stay until the ceremony, though?" she offered hopefully.

Before either of the ghostly women could answer, Phoebe's eyes lit up with a sudden idea. "Hey, wait." She walked toward Grams, her curiosity piqued. "When you're in ghostly form—you know, all transparent and stuff?" she asked, tilting her head.

Patty and Grams both nodded, looking slightly puzzled by the sudden inquiry.

Phoebe's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Who can see you?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Grams sighed, rolling her eyes at what she clearly thought was a ridiculous question. "Well, only those who are of magical descent, of course," she replied matter-of-factly, placing one hand on her hip. But as the realization dawned on her, her eyes widened, and a delighted grin spread across her face. "Phoebe, darling, you're a genius!" she exclaimed.

Phoebe beamed, straightening her posture proudly. "Yay!" She clapped her hands together before opening her arms wide. "Now that's settled, can I have a hug, please?" she asked, her voice turning playfully pleading.

Grams chuckled fondly and wasted no time in pulling Phoebe into a warm embrace. Piper, smiling at the heartwarming scene, walked over to Patty, who welcomed her with open arms.

Prue stood back for a moment, watching as her younger sisters basked in the comfort of their grandmother's and mother's affection. When their hugs ended, she stepped forward, silently waiting her turn before embracing Patty and Grams tightly.

Then, Patty turned her attention to Paige, her eyes growing slightly misty. "Paige." Her voice was soft, full of longing and love.

Paige met her gaze with wide eyes, her own emotions bubbling to the surface. "Mom," she whispered, her voice catching slightly as a wide, radiant smile stretched across her face.

Patty wasted no time, pulling Paige into a firm, loving hug.

"I missed you," Paige murmured against her mother's shoulder, her arms clinging to her as if afraid to let go.

Patty's own smile trembled, and she pressed a gentle kiss to Paige's temple. "I missed you too, baby," she whispered back, holding her daughter close, as if making up for all the lost time.

As they pulled apart, Phoebe wasted no time in looping her arm around Grams' shoulders, practically bouncing on her feet as she turned her bright-eyed grin toward Paige. "Paige, this is our Grams! Well, that makes her your Grams too." Her voice brimmed with excitement, as if she were introducing Paige to a beloved celebrity rather than their shared ancestor.

Paige, however, hesitated, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and unease as she regarded the formidable woman before her. Penny Halliwell stood with an air of quiet authority, her sharp eyes studying Paige with an unreadable expression. The weight of the moment pressed down, a lifetime of separation suddenly condensed into mere seconds.

Sensing Paige's hesitation, Prue stepped in swiftly. "Penelope." The name left her lips with careful emphasis, drawing everyone's attention. She glided smoothly to Paige's side, her presence both reassuring and firm. "This is our grandmother, Penelope Halliwell," she said with calm precision before adding, "but you can call her Penny."

Grams' lips parted, ready to protest the informal introduction, but Prue shot her a pointed look, one that brooked no argument. After a brief pause, Grams pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Paige took a breath before finally offering her hand, her nerves concealed beneath a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Penny."

Grams hesitated for a moment, her gaze dropping to Paige's outstretched hand as though uncertain what to do with it. Prue's subtle glare was the deciding factor. With a barely perceptible sigh, Grams reached forward and gave Paige's hand a brief but firm shake. "You too."

The exchange left a lingering awkwardness in the air, which Prue immediately sought to remedy. Laughing lightly, she ran a hand through her hair before leaning ever so slightly toward Paige and whispering through her teeth, "Hug her."

Paige's head snapped toward her, an expression of immediate skepticism flashing across her face. The silent question in her eyes—Why should I do that?—was met with a dramatic roll of Prue's.

"Just do it," Prue insisted, still speaking through her clenched teeth.

With an exasperated sigh, Paige took a hesitant step forward, her eyes flicking back to Prue one last time. Prue nodded encouragingly, her lips quirking in satisfaction.

Turning back to Grams, Paige gave a small, slightly sheepish smile. "It's really nice to meet you." Before Grams could respond, Paige leaned in and wrapped her arms around her in a brief but meaningful hug. It was a little stiff, a little unsure, but as she pulled away, there was a flicker of warmth in Penny's eyes, a silent acceptance passing between them.

Satisfied, Paige pivoted on her heel and strode back toward the Book of Shadows, resuming her search as if nothing had happened.

Prue watched her for a moment before narrowing her eyes slightly. "What were you looking for?" she asked, her voice casual but laced with curiosity.

Paige stilled for half a second before lifting her gaze, regarding Prue carefully. After a brief pause, she shook her head dismissively and returned her attention to the book, flipping another page with forced nonchalance.

Prue's jaw clenched, and her fingers curled into a tight fist. The sudden, overwhelming urge to smack Paige upside the head was nearly impossible to resist.

Piper, who had made her way over without a word, noticed Prue's clenched fist and sighed. With practiced ease, she reached out, pried open her sister's hand, and slipped her own into it instead. She squeezed Prue's fingers lightly, both a silent warning and a gesture of solidarity. At the same time, she resisted the strong temptation to roll her eyes.

"Look, Paige," Piper snapped, her patience wearing thin. "You may not wanna share a bathroom, but when it comes to that book, it concerns all of us." Her voice carried the sharpness of an older sibling who had long since run out of tolerance for games.

Phoebe, sensing the need for a softer approach, stood and crossed the room to Paige's side, her presence warm and reassuring. "And besides that…" she added, her tone noticeably gentler as she slid an arm around Paige's shoulders, giving her a small squeeze. "Maybe we can help." Her smile was kind, encouraging.

Paige pursed her lips, clearly torn between keeping her secrets and accepting their support. After a few seconds of deliberation, she finally exhaled in surrender. "Okay…" She rubbed at the back of her neck awkwardly before admitting, "I know it sounds stupid, but when I was little, I invented this horrible little fairytale, and it just… always seemed really real to me." Her voice dropped slightly, as if embarrassed to even say it out loud.

She shrugged as she absentmindedly turned another page. "I don't know, I just—oh my god!" Paige's breath caught, her eyes widening as she stared down at the book in front of her.

Phoebe frowned, leaning over her shoulder. "The Evil Enchantress?" she read aloud, an amused smirk tugging at her lips.

Paige's entire face lit up. "That's it!" she cried, practically bouncing with excitement. "That's the evil witch—the one who kills the Prince… after he gets her pregnant, of course!" She exclaimed, pointing emphatically at the page.

Piper's eyes widened in alarm, her body tensing with realization. "Of course." She nodded, her voice a mixture of agreement and apprehension as she turned to Prue with an amused yet wary smile. There was something almost endearing about Paige's enthusiasm—if it weren't for the fact that they all knew how spells had a tendency to backfire in the worst ways.

Without hesitation, Piper stepped forward, making her way toward the Book of Shadows, where the two youngest Halliwells stood. As she passed Prue, she reached out, tugging her older sister's hand in silent insistence. Prue sighed but allowed herself to be pulled along, falling into step beside Piper. The two of them came to a stop on either side of Paige, flanking her as she practically beamed with excitement.

Paige's eyes sparkled as she stared down at the spell, a sense of childhood wonder washing over her. "The spell… wow, I can't believe it." Her fingers brushed over the aged pages with reverence before she took a deep breath and began reciting the words she had never been able to remember fully. "'Bring together my Prince and me. Let him fall on bended knee.'"

Panic immediately flared across Phoebe's face. She shot forward, waving her arms frantically in front of Paige. "No, Paige, wait!"

Piper's stomach dropped, and she lunged toward her youngest sister, gripping her by the shoulders and giving her a little shake. "Yeah, no, don't—don't do that." Her voice wavered between urgency and pleading, but Paige, caught up in the spell's momentum, barely registered the warning.

"I summon him to my side," Paige continued, her voice filled with determination, eyes locked on the page as though nothing else in the world mattered.

Prue's heart began to race, her instincts screaming that something was already set in motion. "No! No-no, what—what are you doing?" Her voice rose, alarm flickering in her sharp blue eyes as she darted between Paige and the book. Her hands clenched at her sides, frustration and worry mixing in equal measure. "Paige, you need to stop!"

But it was already too late.

Grams and Patty stood off to the side, their expressions grim as they exchanged knowing glances. They had seen enough spells gone awry in their time to recognize the inevitability of this one.

And then, with an almost triumphant flourish, Paige finished the incantation. "That he may take me to be his destined bride." A radiant grin spread across her face as she lifted her head, looking expectantly at her sisters, only to be met with their horrified expressions.

Before she could ask what was wrong, Piper slammed her hands down onto the open page, her palm flattening against the parchment as though trying to physically prevent the spell from taking effect.

Paige, however, was too caught up in her accomplishment to notice the collective dread filling the room. "I finally got to finish it!" she beamed, pure satisfaction shining in her eyes.