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.

28. Chapter 28: Enter the Demon Part 1

Chapter 28: Enter the Demon Part 1

June 6, 1998 – Saturday

Halliwell Manor

The basement echoed with the sounds of exertion as Phoebe and Cole moved fluidly through their training. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and the faint metallic tang of the old workout equipment scattered around. Cole lunged at Phoebe, his movements precise and relentless, but she met each advance with a deft block or dodge, her breathing quickening as she focused intently on his every move.

"URGH!" she cried out as Cole's swift kick connected with her stomach, sending her stumbling back a step. The impact stung, and she doubled over slightly, clutching her midsection as she gasped for air.

"Don't be tense. Be ready," Cole advised calmly, his voice steady but firm. He took a step closer, his gaze piercing as he continued, "When you see me expand, you contract. If I contract, you expand."

Phoebe glared up at him through her lashes, her eyes fiery despite the ache in her abdomen. She straightened up, determined not to let him see her falter. She rolled her shoulders back, pushing herself up to her full height, and the two circled each other again, the intensity between them palpable.

Suddenly, Phoebe let out an unexpected giggle as Cole managed to pin her, straddling her on the floor. She looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Hehe! If you wanted to be on top, all you had to do was ask," she teased, her voice light and playful despite her breathlessness.

An amused giggle broke the moment, snapping both their attention toward the staircase. There, sitting casually on the steps, was Paige, watching them with barely contained amusement. Her laughter echoed softly, lighting up the dim, shadowy basement.

Phoebe's mouth dropped open for a second before she recovered. "Pa—Paige!" she cried out, her cheeks flushing. She smacked Cole's leg to get him to move off her, and he obligingly rolled to the side as Phoebe scrambled to her feet. Brushing herself off quickly, she walked toward Paige, her expression hovering somewhere between embarrassed and annoyed.

"What are you doing down here?" Phoebe demanded, trying to regain her composure as she stopped a few steps away from her little sister. "Shouldn't you be upstairs studying for Piper's quiz?" Her tone was laced with a mixture of exasperation and sisterly authority, one eyebrow arched pointedly.

Paige shrugged, her grin widening. "Well, I was kind of hoping to go a couple of rounds with the demon first," she replied, her tone half-serious but mostly teasing as her gaze flicked to Cole.

Phoebe folded her arms across her chest, her lips quirking in a small, knowing smile. "I should tell you: Piper takes her witchcraft quizzes very seriously. You better be prepared," she warned as Paige grimaced, clearly less than enthusiastic. "What's the subject?" she pressed, already bracing herself for the answer.

"Potions basics," Paige replied with a groan, her face twisting into a reluctant grimace.

Phoebe mirrored her sister's reaction, pulling a face of her own. "Ew," she muttered in sympathy. "Well, you've got to start somewhere," she added with a shrug, her voice softening in an attempt to encourage Paige.

Paige sighed heavily, leaning back against the railing of the staircase. "I know. It's just… all book learning," she grumbled, her frustration seeping into her words.

Cole, who had been observing quietly, leaned closer to Phoebe and said gruffly, "Phoebe?" His tone carried a note of impatience, urging her to get to the point.

Phoebe straightened and nodded slightly before turning her full attention back to Paige. "Paige," she began, her tone firm but tinged with a sisterly warmth, "Piper, Prue, and I had to learn how to be witches the hard way, and it took…" She paused, her expression faltering slightly as memories of their past struggles surfaced. "Well, it took too long," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "We need you to get there faster. Our lives might depend on it."

Paige raised an eyebrow, smirking as she teased, "Appealing to my conscience: such a low blow." Despite her words, her expression softened as she stood abruptly, stretching her arms over her head. "I just wanna know when the fun stuff starts," she sighed dramatically, turning to climb the stairs.

She paused mid-step, spinning back around with a slightly puzzled look. "Hey," she said, her brows knitting together in mild confusion. "From what I've seen and what you guys have told me… I was kinda expecting this whole, test thingy from Prue, not Piper."

Phoebe chuckled softly, crossing her arms again as she leaned against the railing. "Well, Paige, here's what you need to know," she began, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Prue likes to be prepared, to be in control, and to be the best she can be when it comes to witchcraft and… well, everything, but especially witchcraft and demons."

Paige nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful as Phoebe continued, her tone shifting slightly. "Piper, on the other hand? She's just plain paranoid, basically. She panics over the tiniest thing and worries about everything," Phoebe explained with a mix of amusement and affection. Her smile faltered for a moment as she turned more serious. "She's scared, all the time, and… nearly losing Prue—" Phoebe's voice hitched, and she swallowed hard, pushing through the emotion. "It's just made her all the more terrified. She's trying to protect you," she finished softly, her eyes searching Paige's face.

Paige lingered for a moment at the foot of the stairs, her expression difficult to read as she processed her sister's words. She glanced back at Phoebe, her lips pressing into a thin line, then exhaled softly. "Right," she said quietly before turning and disappearing up the stairs, the faint creak of each step echoing behind her.

As Paige's footsteps faded, Phoebe's lips quirked into a sly smirk. She turned on her heel, her eyes locking onto Cole with a spark of mischief. "So," she started, her voice low and teasing, "where were we?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively, the corners of her mouth curving upward as she slowly sauntered toward him.

Cole arched an eyebrow in response, though his was far less playful and far more disapproving. "Training," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Phoebe groaned dramatically, throwing her head back before slumping against him, her arms snaking up to rest on his chest. "Come on, Cole," she whined, her tone dripping with faux petulance. Her hands slid slowly up and down, tracing over the fabric of his shirt. "You and Buffy were gone for a whole week," she reminded him, dragging out the word for emphasis. "That's seven long, lonely nights," she added, her voice softening into a sultry purr as her fingers curled slightly against his chest.

Cole's lips twitched into a small smile, but it wasn't enough to derail his focus. With a quick but firm motion, he grabbed her wrists and gently pulled her hands away, holding them in his grasp as he looked down at her with the seriousness of someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Elizabeth and I were on a fact-finding mission," he said, his tone crisp and professional. "We can't ignore what my sister and I learned."

Phoebe's playful demeanor evaporated in an instant, her smile replaced by a glare. "Yeah, I know. The Source wants us dead," she said sharply, her voice laced with frustration.

Cole sighed, his brow furrowing deeply. "No, you don't know," he countered, his voice rising slightly with intensity. "He needs you dead." His jaw clenched as he stepped back, releasing her wrists. "Ever since we escaped, factions have been forming to challenge him. He has to finish what he started if he expects to survive," he explained, his words deliberate and heavy.

Phoebe's shoulders slumped as she let out a weary sigh, the gravity of his words sinking in. "Which means you need to be prepared," Cole finished firmly. He turned and strode to the far wall, where several weapons hung in an orderly display. Without hesitation, he reached for a sword and lifted it down.

Phoebe watched him warily as he turned back to face her, the sword gleaming faintly in the dim light. "You think the Source is gonna challenge me to a sword fight?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement despite the tension in the room.

Cole didn't so much as crack a smile. "Hand-to-hand combat is too safe," he explained, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. "Sword fighting teaches confidence, intensity." Without warning, he tossed the sword in her direction.

Phoebe caught it with ease, though her expression betrayed her growing irritation. Rolling her eyes, she shifted the weapon in her grip. "Ya know," she said, her tone pointed, "I'm not the only sister who knows martial arts, Cole."

"I know that," Cole replied evenly, unsheathing his own sword in a smooth, practiced motion. He tilted his head slightly as he regarded her, a hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Which is why Elizabeth is giving Prue the same training I'm giving you. Although…" He paused, turning to her with a disapproving look. "…Elizabeth said Prue doesn't complain," he added, his voice laced with dry humor.

Phoebe narrowed her eyes at him, her jaw tightening as she watched him approach slowly, his sword gleaming ominously in his hand. "You need to learn to fight like a demon, Phoebe," he said, his tone growing darker, more commanding.

Phoebe's eyes widened, and she instinctively took a step back, gripping her sword tightly. Her stomach twisted with unease, and her voice trembled slightly as she asked, "Uh… do I have a choice?"

Cole's lips curved into a faint smirk, but he didn't bother replying. Instead, he raised his sword and swung it toward her head in a blur of motion.

"AH!" Phoebe yelped, dropping to the floor in a quick dive to avoid the blade. She rolled to her knees and looked up at him in shock, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. Without missing a beat, she pulled her own sword free and rose to her feet, her eyes narrowing as she faced him head-on.

Shaolin Temple

The masked warrior crouched low, his movements deliberate and precise as he unsheathed his sword with an ominous whisper of steel. Hidden behind the dense foliage, his eyes narrowed like a predator stalking its prey. Before him, an older man knelt in serene prayer, his hands clasped, his breathing steady despite the looming danger. The warrior moved with fluid grace, each step soundless as he closed the distance.

The older man's eyes fluttered open, calm and unshaken, fully aware of the threat lurking behind him. He remained still, his focus unwavering as the masked figure raised his sword, prepared to strike.

Suddenly, from above, another masked warrior—this one clad in black—descended like a shadow cutting through the moonlight. Her landing was as quiet as it was swift, her own sword drawn and poised for defense. She positioned herself protectively in front of the kneeling man, her stance resolute.

The male warrior wasted no time and charged at her with a feral determination, their blades clashing in a violent explosion of sparks. The sharp clang of metal against metal echoed through the forest as their duel began, a dance of aggression and precision. The older man rose to his feet with measured grace, turning to face the fierce battle unfolding before him. His gaze remained steady, watching intently as the two warriors fought with skill and intensity.

The fight grew more dangerous with each passing moment, the blades moving in arcs of deadly intent. The masked warriors parried and countered; each strike met with equal ferocity. Their movements grew more fluid, their duel taking them further from the older man. The tension between them crackled like lightning until, with a sudden, decisive motion, the female warrior's blade found its mark. Her sword sliced across the male warrior's shoulder, drawing blood and forcing him back.

His mask fell away, revealing his face. The female warrior froze, her eyes widening in disbelief as she removed her own mask to reveal her identity. "Yenlo," she cried, her voice heavy with a mixture of shock and betrayal. "This is how you repay me, Father? After everything he taught you? Everything he gave you?" Her voice trembled with confusion and hurt.

Yenlo's features twisted with resentment as he clutched his wounded shoulder, his lips curling into a sneer. "What did he give me, An'ling?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "I was supposed to replace him, but he passed me over for you!" His disgust was palpable, his words slicing deeper than any blade.

"Yenlo," the older man interjected sharply, stepping forward with an authoritative air. "You took everything you learned here and used it for your own selfish gain. You've brought disgrace upon yourself and upon our monastery. Leave us now and never return," he commanded, his tone firm and unyielding.

An'ling's eyes hardened as she turned her glare on her brother. "You heard my father," she said coldly, her voice steady with conviction.

But Yenlo's eyes burned with hatred as he stared at her, his body trembling with rage. "I'm going to kill him, An'ling," he declared darkly, his words dripping with menace. "And then I'm going to kill you." His lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "You can't stop me. You're half the student I was!" With a roar of fury, he raised his sword and brought it down toward her in a deadly arc.

An'ling moved with lightning speed, spinning low to the ground. In one seamless motion, she avoided the strike and drove her sword deep into Yenlo's stomach. Her blade pierced through him with a sickening sound, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Yenlo gasped, his breath hitching as he stared down at the wound in disbelief. His eyes flicked back up to meet hers, a twisted smile forming on his lips. "You think this is the end?" he hissed, his voice weak but still defiant. "We're just getting started."

Without warning, Yenlo turned sharply and stumbled toward the shallow fountain nearby. With a final glance over his shoulder, he dove into the water, vanishing beneath its surface without a trace. The air around them stilled, leaving An'ling and her father standing in tense silence, the echoes of the battle fading into the night.

Halliwell Manor

The kitchen table was a battlefield of potion vials, jars of herbs, and bottles of peculiar ingredients, all laid out in a chaotic but purposeful manner. Piper sat at one end, glasses perched on her nose and a red marker pen clutched in her hand, the picture of focused authority. Across from her, Paige twirled a lollipop lazily between her fingers, her attention drifting in and out as the quiz progressed.

Piper tapped her pen against a sheet of paper and asked, her tone sharp and instructive, "Okay, after mixing your potion, what's the best method to preserve unused sea slugs for future use? A: pickle them. B: sugar them. C: smoke them. D: freeze dry them."

Paige leaned back in her chair, the lollipop firmly lodged between her teeth as she pondered the question. After a moment, she pulled it free and replied with absolute seriousness, "Well, now you see, if I had extra sea slugs, I'd let those little suckers go right on back into the ocean."

Piper's expression didn't change—utterly unamused, her patience visibly thinning. She held up the answer sheet and declared flatly, "D: freeze dry them, is the correct answer."

Paige waved her lollipop in the air defensively, her tone light but insistent. "I was gonna guess that," she said, her face a mix of sheepishness and a playful grin.

"Why are you guessing at all?" Piper shot back, looking up from her papers with a pointed glare.

"To pass?" Paige offered uncertainly, the slightest shrug accompanying her response as if unsure what else to say.

Piper exhaled, setting her pen down and pulling her glasses from her face with deliberate care. She placed both items on the table and folded her hands, fixing Paige with a steady gaze. "Paige," she began, her tone softening just enough to carry an air of elder-sister authority. "This isn't like some random trivia quiz, you know. It's not like you're never going to use it again." Her voice carried the weight of responsibility, and Paige, feeling the impending lecture, dropped her gaze to the table.

"If you blow a potion," Piper continued, her voice tinged with urgency, "innocent people could die. Did you even study at all for this test?"

Paige bit her lip, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. "Well, I started to last night," she began, her voice laced with guilt. "It's just... a friend from work came over, and she knew this bouncer at this club, and..." She trailed off, her remorse genuine as she looked up at Piper. "I'm sorry."

Piper nodded slowly, her lips pressed into a thin line as she sighed. "It's okay. I was single once," she said wistfully, her gaze drifting off as if reminiscing about a simpler time. The moment passed quickly, and she turned back to Paige with renewed focus. "Why don't you study tonight—"

"I can't," Paige interrupted, her response quick and final. "I have a guy coming over here, and we're going out."

Piper blinked rapidly, her expression a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. "Here?" she asked, her voice climbing an octave. "What's wrong with your place?"

Paige leaned forward slightly, her tone matter-of-fact as if explaining something painfully obvious. "Uh... this place is slightly more impressive than mine," she said, gesturing broadly to their surroundings.

"You got that right," came Prue's voice from the doorway as she swept into the kitchen with her usual commanding presence. Her face lit up with a cheerful grin as she greeted them, "Good morning, Piper. Good morning, Paige." She crossed to the counter, grabbing a mug and pouring herself a generous cup of coffee.

Piper turned to Prue with a visible wave of relief washing over her, her tight smile softening as though silently passing off the baton of responsibility. Paige, on the other hand, beamed at Prue, her grin broad and carefree, as if entirely unbothered by the heavy weight of her failed test.

Prue's sharp eyes flickered toward the cluttered kitchen table, immediately honing in on the potion vials and crumpled bits of paper strewn across it. "Ooh, potions test," she remarked with casual curiosity, tilting her head at Piper. "How'd she do?"

Piper's smile grew tighter, her lips pressing into a thin line as if bracing for impact. "She failed," she replied bluntly, the words dropping like stones. Her expression carried the resigned exhaustion of a teacher who had gone over the same lesson far too many times.

Prue's face darkened as her gaze swung to Paige. Her brow furrowed, and her lips pursed in disappointment. Paige, now the recipient of that laser-focused attention, grimaced awkwardly, attempting to shrug it off. "Oops?" she offered weakly, twirling the lollipop between her fingers like it might serve as some magical deflection.

"OOPS?" Prue's eyes widened, and her eyebrows shot up, incredulous. Her voice gained a sharp edge, preparing to launch into a full big-sister reprimand. "Paige, this—"

But Piper was already moving, cutting her off with the swiftness of someone who knew exactly how this exchange was about to go. She stood abruptly, chair scraping against the tiled floor, and flashed a sugary-sweet smile that barely masked her own frustration. "I'm gonna let you deal with her," she declared, her tone a mix of faux cheer and thinly veiled exasperation. She gestured toward the table, adding, "I'm going to Chinatown. I need to stock up on some of these herbs."

"Ooh, can I go?" Paige interjected, jumping up from her seat with sudden enthusiasm. "I can get my nails done."

Piper and Prue both burst into a laugh, their amusement shared but short-lived. They shook their heads simultaneously, delivering the answer in silent unison. Piper sobered quickly, fixing Paige with a no-nonsense look. "You need to work on your potions," she said firmly, the finality in her tone leaving no room for negotiation. Paige's shoulders slumped, her face falling into a look of pure dejection.

Piper then shifted her attention back to Prue, her voice adopting an almost conspiratorial edge. "Instead of studying last night, she went out with a friend from work, and she can't study tonight because she's going on a date with, and I quote, 'a guy.'" Her lips quirked up in a wry smile as she added, "Lecture away." Before either of them could respond, she kissed Prue quickly on the cheek and disappeared through the back door, her departure as swift as her decision to delegate the responsibility.

Prue didn't miss a beat. The door had barely swung shut before she rounded on Paige, her narrowed eyes pinning her younger sister to the spot. "Sit," she commanded, her voice low and authoritative. Paige blinked in surprise and reluctantly sank back into her chair, her defiance temporarily muted.

Prue didn't sit down. Instead, she placed her steaming mug on the table and gripped the back of Piper's chair, leaning forward just enough to loom over Paige in an undeniably intimidating stance. Her gaze bore down on her sister with the intensity of someone who had delivered far too many lectures in her lifetime. "Okay, Paige," she began, her tone brisk and unyielding. "Here's the deal: I've been a big sister my whole life, so if you think I'm gonna go easy on you so that you like me... then you're seriously mistaken." Her voice was as sharp as a blade, and Paige visibly flinched, her casual attitude cracking under the weight of Prue's words.

"This is ridiculous," Prue continued, her tone rising with mounting frustration. "You have no priorities."

Paige's head snapped up at that, her eyes narrowing as she leaped to her own defense. "That is not true," she protested, her voice firm. "I've left work to fight demons. That's why I have to go out tonight. The boss's son is in town for the weekend."

Prue's lips curled into a smirk, the kind that said she wasn't buying it for a second. "And you think showing him a good time is going to improve your career standing?" she asked, her voice dripping with dry amusement.

"Well, yeah," Paige replied matter-of-factly, popping her lollipop back into her mouth with a self-satisfied grin, as though her logic was undeniable.

Prue nodded slowly, the movement deliberate and measured, her gaze never leaving Paige's. "Okay," she said finally, her voice quiet but laced with steel. "Listen to me very carefully. There is nothing more important than learning your craft right now. We could be attacked at any moment, and I'm pretty sure Piper's had this conversation with you before. And so have I."

Paige nodded hesitantly, her posture shrinking slightly under the weight of Prue's words. But as her mind circled back to something she'd said earlier, her frustration flared anew. "Then why am I stuck here reading?" she demanded, her voice rising indignantly. "I should be learning how to body-slam sweaty demons, like Phoebe."

Prue suppressed a chuckle, though the corners of her lips twitched in amusement, betraying her effort to remain serious. Her voice carried a tone of both warmth and authority as she addressed Paige. "Phoebe's been at this a lot longer than you. We all have," she said, her gaze steady and unwavering. "But trust me. Be patient, take Piper's quizzes seriously, study hard, and one day, you will get a big, sweaty demon of your own." She leaned back slightly, a teasing glint flashing in her eyes as her tone softened. "Oh, and while I'm on a roll here, you should get rid of that lollipop habit because it's gonna rot your teeth."

Paige's brows furrowed as her frown deepened, her lower lip jutting out in a pout that would have been comical if not for the defiance shining in her expression. She held Prue's gaze for a beat longer, as though daring her older sister to press the matter further. Then, with exaggerated defiance, she slowly stuck the lollipop back into her mouth, her eyes narrowing as she sucked on it with a pointed flourish.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Phoebe and Cole were locked in an intense and fast-paced sword fight, their blades clashing with sharp, metallic echoes that filled the basement. Each strike grew heavier, each movement more calculated, until Phoebe, pushed backward by one of Cole's well-aimed advances, stumbled and landed hard on the edge of the stairs. She winced, grabbing her ankle with a pained expression.

"Ow… I think it's twisted," she muttered, her voice strained as she inspected the injury.

"Stand up," Cole commanded, his tone sharp and unyielding as he lowered his sword.

"I just need a time-out," Phoebe insisted, her words carrying a note of desperation as she remained seated, trying to catch her breath.

Cole's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "The Source won't give you a time-out when you ask. Now get up!" His voice was harsher this time, an edge of frustration lacing his words.

Phoebe shot him a tired, irritated glare. "I said that I can't!" she snapped, her tone tinged with exhaustion and pain. Then, softer but still biting, she added, "Jeez, Cole, what's the matter with you?"

Cole's stance shifted slightly, his grip tightening on his sword. "Demons worship strength, power—nothing else," he told her coldly, his voice like steel. "To beat the Source, you have to channel all your energy into your strength, including pain."

For a moment, Phoebe's glare dropped to the floor as she processed his words. Her jaw clenched in defiance, and she gripped the banister tightly. With a deep, steadying breath, she braced herself and pushed to her feet. "AH!" she cried out, the pain evident, but she managed to steady herself and maintain her balance despite the sharp discomfort coursing through her.

Cole lurched forward instinctively, reaching out to grab her arm and steady her further.

"Let go of me! I can do it!" Phoebe snapped, the fire in her voice cutting through the tension as she shrugged him off instantly. Her eyes burned with determination as she steadied herself.

"I don't want anything to happen to you," Cole whispered huskily, his voice softer now, carrying an undercurrent of genuine concern.

Phoebe paused for a moment, dropping her head against his chest as she caught her breath, her breathing still heavy from the exertion and pain. For a fleeting second, the intensity softened between them. Then, with a deep exhale, she pushed him away forcefully, raising her sword and leveling the tip against him, her eyes alight with fierce resolve.

Limping forward with deliberate determination, she pressed Cole back. "Let's go. I'm ready," she said firmly, her voice unwavering.

Cole smirked faintly, a mixture of approval and challenge in his expression, as he knocked her sword out of the way with his own. Without hesitation, they resumed their duel, the room once again filled with the sharp clash of steel and the fiery resolve of their training.

Shaolin Temple

The air between them was heavy with tension and unspoken worry as An'ling stepped closer to her father, her eyes searching his face for some reassurance. The faint rustling of the nearby trees and the occasional drip of water from the fountain bowl were the only sounds accompanying their hurried conversation.

"I need to stay here, protect you from Yenlo," An'ling insisted, her voice firm yet laced with desperation. Her hands clenched into fists, as though her sheer will alone could shield him from the danger that lurked nearby.

Her father shook his head, his expression calm but resolute, the weight of years of wisdom and responsibility etched into every line of his face. "You cannot protect me from him, not where he's gone," he replied, his tone steady but unyielding. He reached into the folds of his robe and withdrew a carefully folded piece of parchment. Turning to face her fully, he pressed it into her trembling hands. "Only the Dragonblade can stop him now. Take this to Master Kwan. He's an old friend. He'll understand."

An'ling hesitated, her grip tightening around the parchment as her concern swelled. "But what if Yenlo finds you first?" she protested, her voice rising slightly in fear. Her eyes searched his face, pleading for a different answer, one that would let her stay by his side.

Her father's expression softened, a faint smile of pride gracing his lips as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Then you will become Master, and you will know what to do," he replied calmly, his certainty unshaken. "An'ling, I did not pass over Yenlo because you were my daughter. I did so because you are the superior student. Your strength, your clarity of mind—they are what this monastery needs." His voice was gentle but commanding, a tone she had come to respect and obey over the years.

Her father stepped back, his gaze steady and unwavering as he continued, "Now hurry, before he comes back. I'll follow you in the shadows. Go." He gestured firmly toward the path beyond the courtyard, his tone leaving no room for argument.

An'ling nodded reluctantly, her jaw tightening as she fought back the rising tide of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She turned on her heel, clutching the parchment tightly, and sprinted toward the temple gates. Her feet barely touched the ground as she passed the fountain bowl where Yenlo had disappeared. In her rush, she failed to notice the subtle ripple in the water—or the faint, distorted reflection of Yenlo's sinister face flickering within it.

Her father's gaze lingered on her retreating form until she was out of sight. He exhaled deeply, his features a mixture of sadness and resolve as he turned back toward the quiet courtyard, the shadows around him lengthening ominously.

Halliwell Manor

"Morning," Buffy greeted brightly as she entered the kitchen, her voice warm but still carrying the weight of someone who had only just fully awakened. Her smile was infectious, and she looked around the room with a slight tilt of her head, clearly in a good mood.

Prue turned to her girlfriend, a smile blooming on her lips, soft but sincere. "Hi," she replied quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper, yet filled with affection.

Buffy, never one to be shy with affection, crossed the room in a swift stride, pulling Prue sharply toward her. Their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. It was tender, yet full of unspoken words that had been building between them over time. The kind of kiss that lingered just long enough to feel like the world could stop turning for a moment, and everything would still be just right.

Paige, sitting at the table with a cup of tea in hand, watched the exchange with an amused giggle escaping her lips. She leaned back in her chair, her smile growing wider at the sight. It was one of those moments where she could never quite get over how much her big sister and Buffy had come to mean to each other. There was something undeniably genuine in their connection.

"Mmm… good morning," Prue said, pulling away with a content sigh. Her smile was soft, eyes still half-lidded from the kiss, a sense of calm radiating from her. "Here," she added, handing Buffy her half-drunk cup of coffee, the liquid now lukewarm but still a comfort. "Can't be late today."

Buffy flashed a grin, taking the cup gratefully. She took a long, satisfying gulp of the coffee, savoring the taste of the caffeine before setting the mug down on the counter. "Yeah, mom is expecting me," she said with a slight, knowing smirk. She wasn't someone to be late, and the mention of her mom—Joyce—seemed to give her an extra sense of purpose.

"Your mom?" Paige asked, confused. She still couldn't quite wrap her mind around Buffy's age. Given that Buffy was half-demon, and the timeline didn't exactly add up, Paige had learned long ago that she couldn't rely on appearances or assumptions. But hearing the word "mom" attached to someone over a century old threw her for a loop every time.

Prue turned to her sister, her eyes soft but her voice clear as she explained the situation. "Joyce is technically Buffy's adopted mom because that is what Joyce remembers," Prue said, her tone patient but layered with the deeper history behind the words. "Cole had modified Joyce's memories when Buffy was hiding from the Source. Even though the spell that shielded Buffy at Joyce's house is gone, the memories as well as the bond the two of them share remain."

Paige's brow furrowed, understanding dawning as the explanation unfolded. "Ah," she said, the weight of it settling in her chest. It was a tangled web of magic, memories, and family, but it made a strange kind of sense in the way only a Halliwell family situation could.

Prue, turning back to Buffy with a soft sigh, reached out, snatching the empty mug from Buffy's hand with a playful, but purposeful motion. She gave Buffy a gentle push toward the door. "Now you, go." Prue's words were a mix of command and affection, the kind of thing that felt natural between them after everything they had been through. "I love you," she added, her voice a whisper as she kissed Buffy once more.

Buffy's eyes softened as she grinned widely. "I love you too," she responded before capturing Prue's lips in another quick kiss, savoring the moment before she had to leave. "Later, baby. Bye Paige." She turned and waved at the youngest Halliwell, who had been watching the exchange with a soft smile.

"Bye, Buffy," Paige said warmly, giving her sister a small wave. "Have a nice day."

Buffy chuckled lightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You too, Paige," she called out, but then her voice turned slightly more serious as she glanced at the potions and ingredients scattered across the table. "Keep studying. Don't let Piper down," she added, her words laced with a gentle but motivating sense of responsibility. Paige, caught off guard by the reminder, rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Urgh… not you too," Paige whined loudly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. She had heard the same advice from everyone lately, and she was beginning to wonder if there would ever be a moment when someone didn't mention her studying. It was hard to shake the feeling of being pushed.

"When my human half was called as the Slayer, I was in your shoes," Buffy continued, her tone shifting from teasing to a more thoughtful, reflective one. She took a moment to meet Paige's eyes, offering a deeper understanding. "My first watcher, Merrick, helped me to become the person I am today." Her voice dropped slightly as the weight of her words settled between them, offering not just advice but a piece of herself—something she didn't often share.

"I'll walk you out," Prue said, giving Buffy a gentle nudge towards the door. There was a certain tenderness in her voice, a softness that only surfaced when it was just the two of them. Buffy turned back, giving Prue a lingering smile before they both made their way to the front door. Prue's hand on Buffy's back was firm, but the movement was filled with a quiet, comforting intimacy.

Paige sat at the kitchen table, her eyes following them for a moment. She smiled to herself, feeling a warmth in her chest as she watched her sister and Buffy share that simple, private moment. It made her feel as though, despite everything—despite all the chaos they dealt with on a daily basis—there was something solid, something that gave her hope.

After a few moments of wistful reflection, Paige shook her head and turned her attention back to the task at hand. Her gaze landed on the bubbling potion in front of her, and with a dramatic exhale, she tossed another ingredient into the mix with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Next up, some powdered toadstool," she muttered to herself, her voice rising with an almost theatrical sense of determination. "Let's see how this one goes." With a flourish, she threw the powder into the cauldron. "BAM!" she shouted, as if punctuating a sentence with the sheer force of her enthusiasm. "Let's kick it up one more notch!" The air in the kitchen seemed to crackle with the faintest hint of magic, and she felt a fleeting rush of excitement course through her. For a moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the process, savoring the almost playful nature of mixing potions.

But just as the last word escaped her lips, a voice broke through her focused energy. "Whoa! What are you doing?" Leo's voice was full of wariness as he entered the kitchen, his eyes scanning the situation.

Paige glanced at him over her shoulder, still grinning. "You know, just preparing for the Source," she replied with a chipper tone, not missing a beat.

Leo raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting into one of sarcasm. "Oh, is he coming over for dinner?" he asked, clearly unimpressed with the loud display Paige had made.

Paige huffed, rolling her eyes slightly as she turned back to the potion. "No, Piper's got me mixing potions. Why? I don't know," she said, a little bitterness creeping into her voice as she gestured to the bubbling brew. "Phoebe gets to fight. Phoebe gets to levitate. I get to cook," she added, her tone a bit sharp.

Leo took a few steps forward, heading to the fridge as he grabbed a bottle of water, clearly more relaxed now that he was out of the immediate line of fire. "Well, you know, your sisters' active powers took a long time to develop," he pointed out with a tone of gentle reasoning. "And uh… Phoebe's been studying martial arts for years, Prue too."

Paige shot him a glance, her frustration bubbling up again. "Yeah, but we're magic," she stressed, her voice rising in pitch. "We should be able to skip over all that crap."

Leo sighed, taking a swig of his water before turning back to face her, his voice soft but firm. "Well, there are no shortcuts. Even with magic." He took a moment before adding, "Anyway, you're half Whitelighter, which means you're half pacifist. You may never develop the power to fight like Phoebe or Prue."

Paige stared at him, her mouth slightly agape, blinking rapidly in disbelief. She felt a knot form in her stomach as the words settled into her mind. There it was again—another reminder that she wasn't quite what she wanted to be. It stung more than she cared to admit. She didn't respond immediately, her dissatisfaction hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.

Leo gestured casually toward her potion, noticing the bubbling liquid was starting to overflow. "Oh, and you might want to check your potion," he added, his voice still calm as he motioned to the pot. "It's bubbling over." Then, without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving Paige standing there, a mixture of frustration and self-doubt creeping over her.

Paige glanced down at the pot, the bubbling liquid beginning to spill over the sides. She sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead in a gesture of pure exasperation. "Just once," she muttered to herself, her voice quiet with longing. "I'd like to know what it's like to be Phoebe and be able to kick some serious ass." She picked up the next ingredient, the words escaping her lips in a mix of frustration and resolve. With a determined breath, she tossed it into the pot, throwing it with a force that mirrored her own rising frustration. "BAM!" The explosion of energy from the potion sent a wave of heat across her face, and before she could even register what was happening, the concoction erupted into a burst of smoke and magical energy.

The smoke billowed up, shrouding Paige's form in a haze, her vision blurring as a tingling sensation ran through her body. She moaned softly in surprise and a little discomfort before losing her balance, her body glowing faintly as she slipped to the floor. Her surroundings seemed to tilt and twist as a new wave of energy surged through her.

At that same moment, in the basement, Phoebe hit the floor with a similar shock of energy. Her body, too, began to glow with a bright, shimmering light, her own form seeming to blur as a white essence entered her. Another, white essence, seemed to leave her, traveling upward to the floor above, entering Paige in an unseen transfer.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Phoebe frowned as she struggled to push herself up from the floor, her movements sluggish and disoriented. She shook her head, trying to clear the haze clouding her mind, and her gaze darted around the dimly lit basement. Her confusion deepened as she murmured, "How did I get down here?" Her voice was unsteady, tinged with bewilderment.

Above her, Cole stood with her sword in hand, his expression a mixture of mild amusement and patience. He extended the weapon toward her. "Never drop your guard," he said firmly, his tone edged with both instruction and concern.

Phoebe's eyes widened in alarm as the realization of her position struck her. Panic overtook her, and she scrambled backward, her hands skidding against the floor as she moved. She quickly darted behind a nearby punching bag, peering out cautiously like a cornered animal.

Cole's frown deepened, confusion etched across his face as he watched her strange behavior. "What is wrong with you, Phoebe?" he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

Phoebe's head tilted slightly, her expression twisting with suspicion. "What did you just call me?" she asked, her voice rising, barely masking the panic bubbling beneath the surface.

Cole raised an eyebrow, his concern intensifying. "You really took a shot if you can't remember your name," he said, his voice tinged with lightheartedness, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of worry.

Phoebe's gaze dropped to her body, and her breath hitched sharply. She gasped, her hands flying to her head as a wave of realization washed over her. "Oh, no. I am so screwed," she muttered in despair, gripping the ends of her hair. Her fingers moved through the strands with a sense of dread, her expression crumpling as she examined the damage. "And so frosted," she added with a note of disgust, her tone filled with disbelief.

Cole's concern deepened as he took a step closer, his sharp gaze scanning her for signs of injury. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, laced with genuine worry.

Phoebe's head snapped up, and she answered hastily, "No." Realizing her mistake, she quickly corrected herself. "I mean… yes," she said, forcing a bright smile onto her face, though it did little to mask her rising anxiety. She took a quick breath and pointed at him with exaggerated confidence. "Just… wait here," she instructed, already beginning to edge away.

Cole tilted his head, skepticism creeping into his expression. "I told you, no unscheduled breaks during training," he reminded her sternly, his arms crossing in disapproval.

Phoebe was halfway up the stairs, her feet moving faster than her thoughts. Without missing a beat, she turned her head and called over her shoulder, "I am training. I'm doing stairs!" Her voice was hurried and slightly frantic as she disappeared through the doorway, leaving Cole staring after her, baffled.

Bursting into the kitchen, Phoebe came to an abrupt halt and caught her reflection in the polished surface of the refrigerator. Her heart sank, and she groaned audibly, her hands fluttering to her face. "Oh, I don't look so good," she muttered, her tone drenched in exasperation.

In the corner of the kitchen, Paige groaned, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet. She blinked, rubbing her temples as she tried to shake off the dizziness. "What's going on?" Paige asked, her voice groggy and filled with confusion. Her eyes focused on Phoebe, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Phoebe," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with urgency and reassurance. "Don't worry, Phoebe. It's me—Paige."

Paige's jaw dropped as her wide, shocked eyes locked onto Phoebe. The realization hit like a ton of bricks: Paige was standing there in her body. Her hands flew to her temples as if trying to hold her spinning world steady.

"We switched bodies," Phoebe/Paige stated, her tone oddly casual for such a mind-boggling revelation.

"What? What did you do?" Paige/Phoebe demanded, her voice sharp and stern, cutting through the tense air like a blade.

Phoebe/Paige frowned deeply, her expression morphing into one of hurt indignation. "Why do you automatically assume it was something that I did?" she asked, offended by the accusation.

Paige/Phoebe's glare intensified as she leaned forward, her hands gripping the countertop for support. "PAIGE!" she cried, slamming her hand down on the surface with a loud thud that echoed through the room.

"Alright, alright, I did it!" Phoebe/Paige blurted out, throwing her hands up in a gesture of surrender. Her guilty expression softened into a sheepish grimace. "But it was an accident, I swear! I just… I just wanted to know what it was like to be you, and somehow the potion I was working on just, sort of, blew up," she admitted, her voice trailing off with a cringe.

Paige/Phoebe's expression shifted from disbelief to outright astonishment. "You wanted to be me?" she asked incredulously, her tone sharp and tinged with frustration. "Are you crazy? Why not Prue or Piper?" she added snappishly, throwing her hands in the air.

Phoebe/Paige shrugged helplessly, the corners of her lips twitching into an awkward, apologetic smile. "I don't know," she muttered under her breath, avoiding eye contact.

"Okay, okay," Paige/Phoebe said, forcing herself to calm down and take control of the situation. She exhaled slowly, trying to shake off her frustration. "We've got to fix this. What ingredients did you use?" she asked, her tone clipped but focused.

Phoebe/Paige's face scrunched up in uncertainty. "I'm… not sure," she replied hesitantly, shrinking back slightly under Paige/Phoebe's hard glare. "Just, please… don't tell Piper," she pleaded, her voice soft and desperate. "She already thinks I'm a screw-up as it is, and Prue's already disappointed in me."

Paige/Phoebe's hands shot into the air again, her frustration boiling over. "Hello! Paige!" she exclaimed, emphasizing the name with pointed clarity. "We are in each other's bodies! I think Piper and Prue are the least of our problems right now."

Phoebe/Paige sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping as she jutted out her bottom lip in a pout. Her expression radiated guilt and vulnerability, and Paige/Phoebe groaned audibly at the sight.

"Okay, fine!" Paige/Phoebe relented with a dramatic roll of her eyes; her voice tinged with resignation. "I won't tell them."

"Won't tell who what?" Prue's voice cut through the tension like a knife as she re-entered the kitchen, her keen eyes immediately picking up on the strange energy in the room.

Phoebe/Paige spun around so quickly she nearly lost her balance, her expression a mix of nervousness and outright guilt. Her hands fidgeted at her sides as she stammered incoherently.

Meanwhile, Paige/Phoebe plastered on a bright, confident smile, thinking quickly on her feet. "That Phoebe over there is slacking off in her training with Cole," she replied smoothly, pointing at Phoebe/Paige with mock indignation.

Prue raised her eyebrows, tilting her head slightly as she turned to Phoebe/Paige, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and amusement. "Okay, well, I can understand why I wouldn't enjoy training with a sweaty and overly aggressive half-naked Cole…" she began, her voice laced with dry humor.

"That's because you enjoy training with a sweaty, half-naked Buffy," Paige/Phoebe quipped, her tone sharp and teasing.

Prue's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, the unexpected comment hitting its mark. She stammered slightly before composing herself, quickly shifting the focus back to Phoebe/Paige. "But I do not understand why you wouldn't want to," she continued, frowning in genuine confusion as her gaze lingered on Phoebe/Paige. "He is your boyfriend," she pointed out, her tone almost incredulous. "I mean, if it were Buffy, then I sure as hell wouldn't mind—"

"WHOA!" Phoebe/Paige cried out, raising her hands in a defensive gesture, her voice louder than necessary. "Don't need a visual there, Prue."

Before anyone could respond further, Cole's smooth, commanding voice flowed into the room as he ascended the stairs, his presence immediately shifting the atmosphere. "So…" he began, his tone even and confident, "ready to get back at it?"

Paige/Phoebe, out of habit, replied almost reflexively, "Yeah, just a minute, sweetie—" Her eyes widened in horror as the words escaped her mouth, realizing her slip-up.

Cole barely registered the comment, waving it off dismissively. "Not you, Phoebe," he corrected firmly, his focus locked on Phoebe/Paige as he approached her.

Prue's frown deepened as she observed the scene unfolding, her sharp eyes scanning her sisters' odd behavior. Something was definitely off.

"Uh… sure, sugar," Phoebe/Paige replied, her voice uncertain and hesitant, her discomfort evident in her forced smile. "Whatever you say. Let's go work up a sweat."

Just as Cole began to step closer, Paige/Phoebe quickly interjected, darting between them. "Ah, just a minute," she said hastily, grabbing Phoebe/Paige by the shoulders and steering her slightly away from Cole. "Actually, Phoebe has to stay with me. She has to help me, uh… with the potion. It blew up in my face," she explained in a rush, her words tumbling over each other.

Cole's brow furrowed as he turned to Prue, his confusion clear. "Couldn't Prue help you?" he asked, gesturing toward her.

Both Phoebe/Paige and Paige/Phoebe shook their heads vigorously in unison. "Nope. It's got to be Phoebe," Paige/Phoebe insisted, her tone leaving no room for debate.

Cole's frown deepened as he turned back to Phoebe/Paige. "Is that true?" he asked, his tone skeptical.

Phoebe/Paige nodded, adding a small shrug for effect. "Uh, yep. Totally true," she said, trying to sound convincing but failing miserably under Cole's scrutinizing gaze.

He sighed, his frustration evident as he glanced over at Prue, who looked just as puzzled as he was. Cole's lips tightened into a thin line before he focused back on Phoebe/Paige. "Well, let me ask you something, Phoebe," he began, his voice taking on a sharper edge as he pointed toward Prue. "Why did you ask me to train you? At least Prue is putting in the hours with Elizabeth and actually trying. At least she wants to be better."

Prue raised a single finger, her calm yet pointed response cutting through the tension. "Uh… that's because I'm in love with your sister, and I love spending time with her—even if it's just training."

Cole, momentarily caught off guard by Prue's candidness, blinked before turning his attention back to Phoebe/Paige. His expression hardened, his patience wearing thin. "Why are we wasting our time?" he demanded, his voice heavy with exasperation.

Paige/Phoebe shook her head vehemently, her expression shifting to one of urgency. "You're not wasting your time, Cole," she assured him quickly, her voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and sincerity. "Phoebe told me how much she's learning," she added, trying to sound convincing as she gestured subtly toward Phoebe/Paige.

Cole's eyes narrowed, and he held up a hand to silence her. His tone was firm and brooked no argument. "I'm sorry, Paige. This is between me and Phoebe," he said coldly, shifting his gaze to Phoebe/Paige. His frustration was palpable as his words took on a growl. "If it's more important for you to help out in the kitchen than to train for the Source, then you don't have what it takes to vanquish him," he bit out, his words cutting sharply through the air.

"Hey!" Prue interjected, her voice sharp and commanding as she stepped forward. Her glare locked onto Cole, and she interrupted him with an intensity that made even him hesitate. "I happen to find that very insulting," she snapped, her tone laced with indignation.

Cole turned his icy glare on Prue, meeting her fiery gaze without backing down. "She can't afford to take a break, Prue. Neither of you can," he shot back, his voice taut with exasperation and urgency.

Prue's expression hardened, and she folded her arms tightly across her chest in a defensive stance. Her voice dropped to a calm but pointed tone that carried an edge sharper than any sword. "I wasn't talking about training," she said firmly, her meaning clear in the way she emphasized her words. "That's the difference between you and Buffy. Your sister understands when it's time to train and when it's time to be a couple in love."

Cole's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable as her words hit their mark. He shook his head slightly, his frustration simmering just below the surface, before turning back to Phoebe/Paige. "Let me know when that changes," he said tersely, his tone clipped. Without another word, he shimmered out, leaving the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

Phoebe/Paige let out a soft sigh of relief and turned to Prue. "Thank you," she said quietly, her voice heavy with gratitude.

Prue's expression softened as she gave her sister a warm, reassuring smile. She stepped closer and wrapped an arm around Phoebe/Paige's shoulders, pulling her into a comforting side hug. "You know, he's only trying to protect you," she said gently, her voice filled with understanding. "Just like Buffy tries to protect me," she added, her tone laced with affection.

Phoebe/Paige nodded slowly, leaning her head on Prue's shoulder, finding solace in the familiar comfort of her eldest sister. Paige/Phoebe stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of emotions. She smiled faintly, a flicker of warmth passing through her as she saw Prue standing up for her—no, standing up for Phoebe. But as she processed the moment, a frown crept across her face, and she winced slightly, her head throbbing again as the confusion of the body swap pressed down on her mind.

Prue sighed softly and stepped back, giving both of them a fond but tired smile. "Alright," she said, her tone shifting to one of practicality. "I've got to go give my editor some finished pictures, but I should be back in about an hour," she informed them briskly. She leaned down and kissed Phoebe/Paige lightly on the cheek. "See ya later, Pheebs," she said warmly before turning to Paige/Phoebe with a playful but firm look. "And you…" she added, pointing a finger directly at her, "…get studying." With a confident saunter, she left the room.

Paige/Phoebe huffed dramatically, folding her arms across her chest and pouting in exaggerated indignation. "Why didn't I get a kiss?" she muttered, her tone petulant.

Phoebe/Paige let out a light giggle, her amusement bubbling over despite the tension. "Because she thinks you're me," she replied, her lips twitching into a small smile. "And, like I said, they're not happy with me right now." She giggled again, but her laughter died quickly when Paige/Phoebe's glare turned icy and she grabbed Phoebe/Paige by the arm, pulling her closer with surprising force.

"If we don't fix this soon," Paige/Phoebe warned, her voice low and dripping with menace as she tugged pointedly on a strand of Phoebe/Paige's hair, "I am going to perm your hair." Her glare intensified, making her threat feel all too real.

Chinatown

"Please, just listen to me. You have no idea how important this is to me," An'ling pleaded, her voice strained with desperation. Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the parchment in front of her, her wide eyes fixed on the store clerk with an intensity that spoke of urgency.

Piper frowned as she pushed open the door to her favorite Chinese herb store. The faint jingling of bells announced her arrival as she stepped inside, inhaling the familiar mix of dried herbs and incense that always hung in the air. She moved cautiously, her steps deliberately slow as she made her way past neatly arranged shelves of jars and bundles. Her attention was caught by the heated conversation happening at the counter, the raised voices impossible to ignore. Trying to appear casual, she let her eyes wander over the shelves, her ears tuned to the exchange.

"Come back later," the store clerk said firmly, his expression neutral but his tone clipped, as if he were used to dealing with difficult customers.

"If I could come back later, I would, but I can't," An'ling shot back, frustration lacing her words as she leaned forward. "I need it now," she added, her voice rising slightly in her effort to convey the gravity of the situation.

Piper pulled her shopping list from her coat pocket, unfolding it carefully as she wandered closer to the counter. She glanced at the arguing pair briefly before pretending to study the jars on a nearby shelf. Her ears perked up as the conversation grew more animated.

"That dagger is a family heirloom," the clerk said, his voice cool but firm as he gestured to the intricately carved dagger mounted on the wall behind him. Its blade shimmered faintly in the dim light, and its handle, adorned with delicate engravings, gave it an air of something far more ancient than an ordinary weapon. "It's not for sale."

"Excuse me?" Piper called out, breaking into their argument as she stepped toward the counter. She held up her list and asked, "Do you have any wormwood?" Her voice was calm but carried a hint of impatience, her question cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife.

The clerk turned to her briefly and nodded before turning back to An'ling, clearly trying to manage both situations at once. "You don't understand," An'ling pressed on, ignoring Piper's interruption as she gestured to the parchment in her hands. "I don't wanna buy it. It's all right here in the note." Her tone was urgent, her eyes scanning the clerk's face for any sign of understanding.

The clerk leaned forward, squinting at the parchment before shaking his head. "I don't read Chinese," he said simply, his tone tinged with mild irritation.

Piper sighed audibly, her patience beginning to fray as she spoke up again. "Uh… wormwood?" she repeated, trying to draw the clerk's attention back to her.

An'ling, however, wasn't about to give up. She stepped closer to the counter, her voice growing more impassioned. "You have to help me," she implored, her words tumbling out in a rush. "My father needs the Dragonblade. He said your father—"

"My father's out of town till Tuesday," the clerk interrupted her curtly, his frustration beginning to seep through his professional demeanor. "You'll have to come back then." He sighed and turned back to Piper, clearly eager to focus on a less complicated customer. "Excuse me, I have customers," he added pointedly, his gaze settling on Piper.

Piper exhaled in relief, finally feeling like she was being acknowledged. She slid up to the counter with a polite but slightly weary smile. "Yes," she said quickly, seizing the opportunity to speak. "Thank you," she added, glancing briefly at An'ling in gratitude for stepping aside. Turning back to the clerk, she continued, "Hi. I need a sprig of wormwood, preferably small-stemmed."

An'ling rolled her eyes, her frustration visibly mounting as she glanced between the clerk and the dagger mounted high on the wall. Without hesitation, she leaped onto the counter with feline grace, her movements swift and precise. The clerk barely had time to react before she pushed off the counter and scaled the wall with surprising agility, her hands locking onto the intricately carved Dragonblade.

"HEY!" the clerk shouted, his voice ringing out in alarm, but An'ling paid him no attention. She dropped back onto the counter with the blade in hand, landing with a soft thud right in front of Piper. Piper's eyes widened in shock, her mouth slightly agape as she took in the scene unfolding before her.

Before Piper could fully process what was happening, An'ling rose into the air as if gravity had momentarily lost its hold on her. Her body hovered effortlessly above the ground, and with a powerful thrust, she flew over Piper's head. Piper gasped and instinctively threw her hands up, her powers flaring to life. The clerk froze mid-yell, his shocked expression suspended in time, but An'ling was unaffected. She sailed through the air and crashed through the glass window, shards scattering around her like glittering rain, before disappearing down the street in a blur of motion.

Piper stood frozen for a moment, staring at the broken window with a mix of confusion and disbelief etched on her face. Her heart raced as her mind caught up with what had just happened. "What the hell?" she muttered under her breath before her instincts kicked in, and she bolted through the store's front door in pursuit of An'ling.

"HEY!" Piper called out, her voice firm as she closed the distance between them. An'ling, however, kept walking, her determination unwavering as she clutched the Dragonblade tightly. Piper scowled, frustration bubbling to the surface. With a flick of her left wrist, she sent an explosion of power toward a nearby crate of vegetables. The wooden box erupted in a shower of debris, scattering produce across the street and forcing An'ling to stop in her tracks.

Startled, An'ling jumped and spun around to face Piper. Her expression was a mix of shock and defiance as her grip on the blade tightened. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp and wary.

Before Piper could respond, a new voice cut through the tension. "An'ling," a man said with authority, stepping out of a nearby building. His presence was commanding, though his face betrayed weariness. He stopped by a puddle of rainwater, his gaze steady as it locked onto his daughter.

An'ling's demeanor softened immediately. "I have it, Father," she said, her tone filled with both pride and relief as she walked toward him, the Dragonblade gleaming in her hands.

But the moment of reunion was short-lived. Without warning, the surface of the puddle rippled violently, and Yenlo emerged like a specter from the water. His movements were swift and merciless as he drove a blade into An'ling's father's back.

"NOOOO!" An'ling screamed, her voice breaking with anguish as her father collapsed into Yenlo's grasp.

Yenlo's smirk was cold and calculated as he tightened his grip on the dying man. "Like I said…" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice, "…we're just getting started." And with that, he and An'ling's father disappeared back into the water, leaving nothing but faint ripples and silence in their wake.

"FATHER!" An'ling cried out, her voice echoing through the street, but it was too late. He was gone.

Piper stood rooted to the spot, her mind reeling from the surreal and horrifying events that had just unfolded. She barely had time to process what she had seen before An'ling, tears streaming down her face, took off running. Piper's gaze snapped to the young woman, her protective instincts kicking in. Without hesitation, she sprinted after An'ling, her determination to help driving her forward.

Summers Home

Buffy shimmered into the cozy living room of the Summers' home, her arrival marked by the faint, otherworldly shimmer of light that dissipated as quickly as it appeared. She glanced around the familiar space, her eyes darting over the comforting details of home—the family photos lining the walls, the warm glow of a lamp in the corner, and the faint scent of cinnamon wafting in from the kitchen. "Mom?" she called out, her voice edged with a mix of urgency and vulnerability as she stepped further into the room.

"Buffy?" Joyce's voice came from the kitchen, and within moments, she appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Relief washed over her face, softening her features as she took in the sight of her daughter. "Are you okay?" she asked, her tone laced with concern as she crossed the room toward Buffy.

"As okay as I can be," Buffy replied, her shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of her words. There was a weariness in her voice, a hint of the endless battles she had been fighting.

Joyce's brows furrowed, her concern deepening. "What does that mean?" she pressed gently, her maternal instincts kicking into high gear as she searched Buffy's face for answers.

Buffy sighed, her gaze dropping momentarily to the floor before meeting her mother's eyes. "Cole's spell that hid me while I lived here is gone," she explained, her voice steady but tinged with frustration. "The Source has been sending bounty hunters after me and Cole." She hesitated for a beat, her jaw tightening as the next words left her mouth. "He wants me and Cole dead."

Joyce's face paled, and she reached out, placing a comforting hand on Buffy's arm. The gravity of her daughter's words settled heavily between them, the safe haven of their home now feeling tenuous under the looming threat. "Buffy," Joyce whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with worry, as she tried to process the danger her daughter was facing.

Halliwell Manor

"Yenlo was a powerful disciple, but he used my father's teachings for evil," An'ling explained, her voice steady but laced with bitterness. She sat on the edge of the couch in the Halliwell living room, her posture rigid as if the weight of her memories was pressing heavily on her shoulders. The warm glow of the table lamp did little to soften the tension in the room as Piper and Leo sat across from her, their faces attentive but concerned. An'ling gestured faintly as she continued, "That's why my father passed him over for master. And because he did, Yenlo swore vengeance on him."

Leo, seated in an armchair on the opposite side of the coffee table, leaned forward slightly, his brow furrowing. "But didn't you say you stabbed Yenlo when he first attacked?" he asked, his tone even but probing.

"Yes," An'ling confirmed, her eyes darkening at the memory. "But he used his knowledge of the teachings to escape before he died." Her voice faltered for a moment, the frustration of Yenlo's cunning evident.

"Escape where?" Piper asked, her curiosity mingled with skepticism as she turned toward An'ling, her hand resting on the edge of the coffee table.

An'ling shifted her gaze to Piper, her expression grim. "To a place where souls pass on their way to reincarnation," she replied, her voice quiet yet resolute. "It's a mystical region between life and death."

Piper frowned and glanced at Leo for clarification. He met her gaze and offered a simple explanation, "Limbo."

An'ling nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Yenlo somehow figured out a way to hide out there," she continued, her tone dripping with disdain for the man who had twisted her father's teachings.

Piper tilted her head, her brows knitting together as she tried to piece everything together. "But… if you stabbed him?" she prompted, confusion still lingering in her voice.

Leo leaned back slightly, assuming the role of the guide once again. "Metaphysical and magical laws are amplified in limbo," he explained, his calm demeanor grounding the conversation. "As long as he stays there, his wound will never advance. He can literally cheat death forever."

An'ling's gaze dropped to the Dragonblade lying on the table between them, her expression unreadable. "That's why I took the Dragonblade," she said, her voice soft but firm. "It has the power to trap human souls." She lifted her eyes to meet Piper's, her sadness evident. "Now it's the only way to save my father."

Piper exhaled deeply, picking up the intricately carved Dragonblade to inspect it. The weapon felt heavy in her hands, not just physically but with the weight of its purpose. "You think he's still alive?" she asked, her voice tentative as she looked back at An'ling.

An'ling's jaw tightened, and a flicker of hatred sparked in her eyes. "Yenlo doesn't just want to kill my father," she replied, her tone sharp. "He wants to punish him. Holding him in limbo does that—it keeps his soul from being reborn." Her words hung in the air, heavy with the cruelty of Yenlo's intent.

Piper placed the Dragonblade back on the table, her expression softening with determination. "Do you know how to get to this limbo?" she asked, her voice steady but compassionate.

An'ling's shoulders slumped slightly, her confidence faltering. "No," she admitted, shaking her head, her shame palpable. "I never mastered that skill."

Piper straightened, a small but encouraging smile breaking through her worry. "Well, then, we'll have to figure out our own way," she said with quiet resolve. Raising her voice, she called out, "PHOEBE! PAIGE!"

An'ling shook her head firmly, her expression resolute despite the kindness in her voice. "I can't let you do that. I know you are powerful witches, but I can't put you in danger," she insisted, her eyes flitting between Piper and Leo, concern etched into her features.

"Sure, you can," came Prue's confident voice as she entered the living room, her presence immediately shifting the energy in the space. She strode in with a calm self-assurance, flashing a warm smile. "Hey," she greeted Leo casually as she stopped beside him, her dark hair falling over her shoulder.

Piper glanced up at her, momentarily startled. "I didn't hear you come in," she remarked, her tone half-surprised, half-teasing.

Prue smirked, her expression playfully mischievous. "That's 'cause I'm sneaky," she quipped, adding a wink for good measure.

Leo chuckled, and Piper rolled her eyes with an amused smile, shaking her head slightly at her sister's antics. Turning back to An'ling, she gestured toward Prue. "This is my big sister, Prue. Prue, this is An'ling," she introduced, her voice softening as she made the connection between the two.

"Hi," Prue greeted warmly, stepping forward and extending her hand. Her handshake was firm yet friendly, her smile genuine. "And I meant what I said before," she added, her tone taking on a note of conviction. Referring back to An'ling's earlier concern, she stated, "It's our job to help people, and danger is kind of part of the package."

An'ling hesitated, her gaze shifting to Piper, who nodded encouragingly. But An'ling remained steadfast, her brows knitting together with worry. "No," she said quietly but firmly. "Yenlo will be coming for me next."

"All the more reason you should be here, where it's safe," Piper countered without missing a beat, her tone brooking no argument.

An'ling shook her head again, her anxiety clear as she tried to make them understand. "No place is safe from Yenlo. He can use any surface of water as a portal," she explained, her voice tinged with the weight of experience.

"Maybe," Leo chimed in, his calm demeanor adding an air of reason to the discussion, "but he can only stay in our world for short periods. Otherwise, his wound will ultimately kill him."

Prue met An'ling's gaze, her tone shifting to something firm yet kind, an unyielding reassurance in her words. "You're staying with us," she stated decisively, leaving no room for protest. "End of discussion, okay?"

An'ling hesitated for a moment, her shoulders still tense, but eventually, a small smile crept across her face. She nodded slightly. "Okay," she said softly, a hint of relief breaking through her earlier resistance.

Prue smiled back, her expression one of quiet victory and solidarity. Just as the moment settled, Phoebe and Paige walked in from the kitchen, their footsteps light but their movements awkward as they glanced around.

"Um… you called?" Paige/Phoebe asked hesitantly, her tone tinged with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Piper rose to her feet, gesturing toward An'ling. "This…" she began, her voice patient but firm, "…is An'ling." An'ling turned toward them and offered a polite smile, her posture slightly reserved.

Phoebe/Paige's face brightened into a wide smile as she stepped forward. "Hi. I'm Paige—" she began, her voice cheerful and welcoming but abruptly froze mid-sentence. Her expression stiffened, and she stood stock-still as if realizing her mistake too late.

Beside her, Paige/Phoebe straightened suddenly, her entire posture going rigid, her discomfort clear. The awkwardness in the room grew palpable as Piper, Prue, and Leo turned to them, their brows furrowing in unison.

Phoebe/Paige's eyes widened, her mind racing for a quick save. "I mean," she corrected with an awkward laugh, "Paige's older sister, Phoebe." Her smile returned, though it was less convincing, and she gestured toward Paige/Phoebe beside her. "This is Paige," she added quickly, her voice rising slightly in forced cheer.

"Howdy. Hi. Paige here." Paige/Phoebe replied, her smile tight and unnatural, as though her face might crack under the strain. Her tone was chipper but filled with an edge of discomfort that only heightened the awkward atmosphere in the room.

An'ling raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress the amused smile that tugged at her lips. She glanced between the two women, clearly entertained by their odd behavior but too polite to comment on it.

"Um… okay," Piper said, snapping herself out of the peculiar moment with a shake of her head, as if she could physically dispel the weirdness. Her brow furrowed slightly as she refocused on the problem at hand. "We've got a water-loving demon, so Phoebe, can you take Paige to the water main? It takes two to turn off that rusty valve," she requested, her tone brisk and practical.

Instantly, both Phoebe/Paige and Paige/Phoebe stiffened, their bodies visibly tensing like startled deer caught in headlights.

Phoebe/Paige narrowed her eyes as if she were struggling to recall something buried deep in her memory. "Water main," she repeated slowly, dragging the words out in an attempt to buy herself time. Her gaze darted left, then right, uncertainty written all over her face, before she finally spun on her heel and walked decisively—straight in the wrong direction.

Paige/Phoebe let out a nervous laugh, the sound high-pitched and slightly manic, before stepping forward and grabbing Phoebe/Paige by the shoulders. "Nope, not that way," she said quickly, turning her around and steering her toward the correct direction with more force than necessary. "This way," she added in a sing-song tone, trying—and failing—to mask her anxiety.

Piper's frown deepened as she watched the interaction, suspicion flickering across her face. She exchanged a glance with Prue, who was standing nearby, her arms crossed and her sharp gaze fixed on their younger sisters. Prue's eyes narrowed slightly, her expression unreadable, but it was clear that she, too, had taken note of the strange behavior.

"Okay," Piper said, her voice brisk as she turned her attention away from the odd display, though her unease lingered. "Book of Shadows." She nodded firmly, focusing on the next task. "There's gotta be another way to get into limbo," she declared, her determination cutting through the awkward tension in the room.

Leo nodded in agreement, his expression calm but purposeful as he followed Piper and An'ling toward the stairs. His footsteps were measured, his attention already shifting toward the next challenge.

Prue, however, lingered. She remained rooted in her spot, her gaze fixed on the now-empty doorway where her sisters had disappeared. Her brows knit together as though she were trying to piece together a puzzle that wasn't quite coming together. There was something off, and she wasn't about to let it slide.

"PRUE!" Piper's voice rang out from the staircase, sharp and impatient, breaking her sister's concentration.

Prue cast one last, lingering glance at the empty room, her mind still churning with questions, before she finally sighed and moved to follow the others. Her heels clicked against the floor as she exited, but her sharp, wary expression remained firmly in place, her instincts telling her there was more to this than met the eye.

Limbo

"It's amazing how our wounds stop bleeding down here, isn't it?" Yenlo mused aloud, his voice dripping with mockery as he ran his fingers over his sodden, blood-stained shirt. The dark, oppressive energy of limbo seemed to cling to him like a second skin, amplifying his unsettling presence. He turned with a slow, deliberate motion to face An'ling's father, the Zen Master, his smirk growing as he pressed his palm against the older man's wound. "See? Doesn't even hurt," he said with cruel satisfaction, his tone taunting.

"This place was not meant for us to stay, Yenlo," the Zen Master reminded him, his voice calm but tinged with profound disappointment. His serene demeanor, however, could not entirely mask the undercurrent of sadness in his words as he looked at his former student, a man he had once hoped to guide toward enlightenment.

"Tell me about it," Yenlo scoffed, gesturing lazily toward the murky, featureless expanse around them. "I always expected the entrance to reincarnation to be a nice river, or even pearly gates." He swept his gaze over the desolate surroundings with a sneer, his disdain as palpable as the eerie stillness that enveloped them. "Last thing I expected to see was a big, sucking hole," he added, nodding toward the swirling vortex that loomed in the distance, its ominous pull silently beckoning.

"It's never too late for redemption," the Zen Master said softly, his tone heavy with the wisdom of lifetimes. He gestured toward the vortex, the faintest glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. "If you enter that vortex, you'll cleanse your soul, start life fresh."

"Yeah," Yenlo shot back with a grimace, "as a tapeworm." His voice dripped with disdain as he folded his arms across his chest. "Or maybe even a dung beetle. I know how karma works," he added with a sly smirk, his tone mocking. "Besides, I've worked too hard in this life to give it all up now."

"You're evil, Yenlo," the Zen Master said, his voice a mixture of sadness and subtle fear. His eyes searched Yenlo's face for any trace of the man he had once known, but all he saw was the darkness that had consumed him. "You have nothing in this life."

"I have you!" Yenlo spat, his voice rising with venomous triumph. His eyes gleamed with a twisted sense of purpose as he leaned closer. "Which means now your student-reject has a purpose. I figure, why stop at one Zen Master, when I can rid the world of two, or twenty, or a hundred?" His voice grew louder, echoing through the barren realm as he gestured dramatically. "All their wisdom and magic, lost forever in limbo. Now that's evil." He threw back his head and laughed, the sound sharp and grating, like nails on a chalkboard.

"And have I not taught you," the Zen Master interjected, his voice steady and unwavering, "that you can never escape your karma? No one can."

Yenlo smiled darkly, the corner of his mouth curling into a sinister grin. "But then again," he countered, his tone dripping with arrogance, "nobody's ever escaped from limbo before, have they?"

The Zen Master tilted his head slightly, his expression thoughtful as he studied Yenlo. "How did you do it?" he asked, his voice quiet but filled with curiosity. His eyes scanned their surroundings, searching for some clue. "I see no water as a portal to return to Earth."

Yenlo nodded slowly, his grin widening as though savoring a private joke. "I was worried about that at first," he admitted, his tone almost conversational. "But then I remembered that every cloud has a nice, wet, watery lining." His words hung in the air, heavy with implication, as he began to rise into the air, his form bathed in the dim, unnatural light of the realm.

"Well," he said, looking down at the Zen Master one last time, his voice casual but laced with malice, "I'm off to find your daughter, and kill her. Wish me luck." He gave a mock salute before shooting upward, disappearing into the void with a burst of energy that sent ripples through the oppressive stillness, leaving the Zen Master alone with his thoughts and the ever-present pull of the vortex.

Summers Home

Cole shimmered into the cozy living room, his presence announced by the faint hum of magic and a shimmer of energy that dissipated as quickly as it appeared. Buffy and Joyce, seated comfortably on the sofa, turned their attention to him. The soft glow of the room's lamp cast warm light across their faces.

"Hello, Joyce," Cole greeted with a polite nod, his voice smooth and composed as he addressed Buffy's adoptive mother.

"Hello, Cole," Joyce replied, her tone cordial but with an edge of curiosity, her hands resting lightly on her lap.

Cole's gaze shifted to Buffy, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at his sister. "Elizabeth?" he said, his voice carrying both familiarity and concern as he used her full name, something he rarely did unless he was serious.

Buffy stood, a subtle tension in her movements as she squared her shoulders and faced him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone cautious, though her expression betrayed a mix of wariness and sibling exasperation.

Cole folded his arms, his demeanor calm yet critical. "Seems Phoebe is taking a break from training," he said, his words laced with frustration. "She isn't taking the threat of the Source seriously."

Buffy's expression hardened, her protective instincts for Phoebe and the rest of her family rising. She turned to Joyce, her voice softening slightly. "Mom, do you mind if Cole and I have a moment alone?" she asked, her tone polite but firm.

"Of course not," Joyce replied, sensing the gravity of their conversation. She rose gracefully from her seat, giving Cole a brief but assessing glance before excusing herself and leaving the room. The faint sound of her footsteps disappeared as she moved toward the kitchen.

Buffy stepped closer to Cole, her voice lowering but carrying a weight of authority. "Cole, you and I know that the threat the Source poses to Prue, Phoebe, Piper, and Paige is great and shouldn't be taken lightly," she began, her words deliberate and steady. Her intense gaze locked onto his, challenging but not unkind. "But at the same time, Cole, Phoebe is your girlfriend, just as Prue is mine."

Her words hung in the air, the weight of responsibility and the personal stakes clear in her tone.

Halliwell Manor

"Careful!" Phoebe/Paige exclaimed, her voice laced with both annoyance and amusement as she struggled to twist the stubborn valve on the water main. The basement's dim lighting flickered slightly, casting long shadows across the damp, cobweb-laden walls. Her hands slipped, nearly losing grip on the rust-covered valve. "Don't break my nails," she added, glancing down at her hands in dismay.

"Forget your nails," Paige/Phoebe snapped back, her voice tinged with exasperation. She leaned into the task, her knuckles whitening as she applied more force. "You almost got us busted earlier. Next time, smile and nod when we're together. Less talking, more blending in."

Phoebe/Paige huffed dramatically, her expression one of mild indignation. "Well, that might work for Piper and Leo—maybe not so much for Prue—but what about this demon that's on the loose?" Her voice lowered slightly as they finally won their battle with the water main. The pipe creaked reluctantly, the valve groaning as it turned. With a triumphant grin, Phoebe/Paige popped a lollipop into her mouth and gave the valve a victorious tap.

"You're right," Paige/Phoebe admitted, brushing her hands off on her jeans. "We may have to fight. Can you levitate?"

Phoebe/Paige shrugged nonchalantly, the lollipop stick dangling from her lips. "Haven't tried," she mumbled around the candy.

"Here, levitate and kick," Paige/Phoebe suggested, pointing toward the old, slightly battered punch bag hanging in the corner. "But first, could you lose the lollipop? My teeth have enough cavities, thank you."

"Ergh! Sorry, nervous habit." Phoebe/Paige grimaced, pulling the lollipop out of her mouth with a sheepish expression. She set it aside on a nearby ledge, straightened her shoulders, and took a deep breath. "Okay, here goes nothing," she muttered to herself before charging at the punch bag. She leaped awkwardly, grabbing onto it for dear life as it swung wildly under her weight. She dangled helplessly for a moment before losing her grip and landing on the cold, hard floor with a resounding thud.

Paige/Phoebe closed her eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as though she were channeling Piper's frustration. "Oh my god, you are so bad for my image," she muttered, shaking her head.

From the floor, Phoebe/Paige let out a dramatic, "OH!" just as the punch bag swung back and smacked her on the side of the head. She cradled her head with a wince and groaned. "Piper is never gonna trust me with magic again," she lamented, her tone dripping with self-pity. "And Prue—oh, she's gonna give me that lecture thingy. You know, the one that's her way of telling you she's disappointed in you without actually saying the words."

Paige/Phoebe winced in solidarity and gave her a knowing nod. "I hate that. And the look," she added, narrowing her eyes and mimicking Prue's signature disapproving stare.

Phoebe/Paige sighed dramatically as she sat up, rubbing the sore spot on her head. "Oh, the look! No, I hate the look. It always makes me feel so bad," she pouted, her lips jutting out slightly in exaggerated misery.

"That's what it's supposed to do," Paige/Phoebe replied with a sympathetic shrug. "But hey! Piper and Prue won't find out anything as long as we reverse the potion." She grinned, her optimism unwavering.

Phoebe/Paige nodded, her expression perking up slightly. "Well, I think I figured out how to mix a new batch, but we're all out of powdered toadstool."

"I know where to get some," Paige/Phoebe replied confidently, brushing off her hands. She straightened up and gave Phoebe/Paige a determined look. "You stay here, avoid Prue and Piper at all costs, and practice my power. We may need it." With that, she turned and headed toward the creaky basement stairs.

Summers Home

"Belthazor, Nyxara," the two demonic bounty hunters growled, their voices echoing ominously through the living room. Their glowing red eyes locked onto Cole and Buffy with deadly intent. The air around them crackled with dark energy, the promise of violence heavy in the stillness. Without hesitation, the bounty hunters raised their clawed hands, and streaks of jagged lightning bolts erupted from their palms, hurtling toward the siblings with terrifying speed.

Cole and Buffy reacted instinctively, diving in opposite directions just as the lightning bolts scorched the ground where they had been standing moments before. The sharp scent of burnt ozone filled the air. Buffy rolled to her feet, her expression sharp with determination, and with a flick of her wrist, she conjured a glowing energy ball. The blue light from her spell illuminated her face briefly before she hurled it at one of the bounty hunters.

Buffy, meanwhile, crouched low and summoned her own energy. "You made a mistake coming after us," she snarled, her voice low and dangerous. With a quick, practiced motion, she hurled the energy ball with precision, striking the second bounty hunter square in the chest. The demon let out a bloodcurdling scream as his body ignited, the flames consuming him until nothing remained but a darkened scorch mark on the ground.

Cole's energy ball connected with his target a split second later. The first bounty hunter stumbled backward, his form briefly flickering as the magic overtook him. His guttural roar of defiance was cut short as he too burst into flames, vanquished by Cole's unrelenting attack. The living room fell silent once more, save for the faint crackling of residual energy dissipating into ether.

Cole straightened, dusting himself off with a casual air that belied the tension of the confrontation. Buffy brushed her hair back from her face, her eyes scanning the living room warily for any sign of reinforcements. "Guess they underestimated us," she said, her voice steady but tinged with adrenaline.

Cole smirked, his lips curling with satisfaction, the faintest glint of amusement in his sharp eyes. "They always do," he remarked with a tone so casual it was as if they hadn't just survived a deadly encounter.

Before Buffy could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, followed by the familiar voice of Joyce. "What's going on in here?" she asked, her tone a mixture of concern and exasperation as she stepped into the living room. Her gaze swept over the disarray—the faint scorch marks on the carpet, the residual haze of dissipating energy, and the tense expressions on Cole and Buffy's faces.

"Bounty hunters, Mom," Buffy said with an apologetic shrug, brushing some stray ash from her sleeve. Her tone carried an edge of guilt, as if she regretted the chaos spilling into their home.

Joyce raised an eyebrow, folding her arms as she surveyed the scene with maternal authority. "Bounty hunters," she repeated slowly, her voice laced with disbelief. "In my living room?"

Buffy winced slightly at her mother's tone. "It wasn't exactly planned," she said defensively, glancing toward Cole as if to share the blame.

Cole offered Joyce a charming, albeit sheepish, smile. "They didn't leave much of a mess, Joyce," he said, gesturing vaguely to the still-smoking scorch mark on the floor. "Relatively speaking."

"Piper and Phoebe found a spell last week that could make this disappear," Buffy said, gesturing to the scorch marks and subtle damage left behind by the bounty hunters. Her tone was calm, but there was an underlying determination to reassure her mother. "I'll bring Prue over later to cast it," she added, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

Joyce's brow furrowed slightly as she glanced around the room, her arms still folded. She looked as though she was weighing the effort it would take to fix things the mundane way versus trusting in magic to clean up the chaos.

"Besides," Buffy continued, her expression brightening with a mix of nervousness and excitement, "I think it's time you met my girlfriend formally instead of over the phone." Her voice softened slightly at the mention of Prue, and for a fleeting moment, the hardened Slayer exterior gave way to something more vulnerable, more human.

Joyce's expression shifted as she processed the statement, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "Well, I suppose it's about time," she said, her tone teasing but warm. There was a hint of curiosity in her eyes now, as if she was already imagining what Prue might be like in person. "But make sure she knows to bring the spell for stubborn scorch marks."

Halliwell Manor

"Can I help you?" Paige/Phoebe asked as she opened the door, her tone casual, though her body language betrayed a flicker of unease. Standing on the other side was a young, handsome black man with a confident air about him. He had an easy smile, the kind that could put anyone at ease, and a glint of charm in his eyes.

He chuckled warmly. "Sense of humor. I really like that in a girl," he replied, his smile widening. Then, without missing a beat, he added, "So, are you ready to go, Paige?"

Paige/Phoebe's eyes widened in alarm, and her voice took on an exaggerated tone of surprise. "Paige!" she blurted out, stalling for time. "Uh…"

Just then, Phoebe/Paige swooped in, her movements brisk and slightly theatrical. "Mason! Hi, how are you?" she chimed in brightly, stepping in beside her sister with a practiced ease.

Mason's brows knitted together in confusion, his gaze shifting between the two women. "I'm fine," he replied, his tone polite but uncertain. "Do I know you?"

Phoebe/Paige didn't miss a beat. "No, no, but I know you," she said quickly, her words spilling out with an almost breathless enthusiasm. "At least I feel like I know you, seeing as how Paige can't stop talking about you—Mason, the boss' son," she added, throwing in a sly nudge to Paige/Phoebe's side. Her voice turned playful as she gave him an appraising look. "And, by the way, she was right—you're as cute as she said you were."

Mason's initial confusion melted into a shy smile, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Well, nice to see you," Paige/Phoebe interjected hurriedly, her voice tight with forced cheer. "Bye!" she said, making a clumsy attempt to close the door.

Before it could fully shut, Mason caught it gently, his brow furrowing again. "No, wait," he said, holding the door open. "Aren't you guys going for dinner?"

Phoebe/Paige's face lit up with mock realization. "Yeah! Is Italian, okay?" Mason asked, flashing a tentative smile, clearly trying to salvage what was quickly becoming an odd interaction.

"Chinese!" Phoebe/Paige declared firmly; her voice almost commanding. "You must have Chinese. Chinatown Chinese, even better." She gave Paige/Phoebe another not-so-subtle nudge, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Mason hesitated, clearly a little thrown off by the insistence. "That… that's cool," he said after a beat, though his tone carried a hint of confusion.

Paige/Phoebe gave a strained nod. "Oh-kay," she muttered, glancing sideways at her sister.

"Okay!" Phoebe/Paige chirped, her energy bouncing back. She grabbed Paige/Phoebe's jacket and practically shoved it into her arms. "You two kids have fun," she added with an overly sweet smile. Then, leaning in close, she whispered in a low, urgent voice, "And keep my face out of the sun," before shoving them both out the door with surprising determination.

As the door clicked shut, Phoebe/Paige turned around, exhaling dramatically just as the hurried sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs. Prue and Piper appeared, both looking tense and expectant.

"Who was at the door?" Piper demanded, her tone sharp and her eyes scanning the room.

Phoebe/Paige plastered on her most innocent smile and shrugged nonchalantly. "Mmm… oh, just Paige's date," she replied with a bright, almost too-sweet tone.

"She's still going on her date?" Piper asked incredulously, her arms flopping to her sides in disbelief. Her gaze shifted between her sisters, trying to make sense of what was unfolding.

Phoebe/Paige shrugged nonchalantly, attempting to feign indifference, though the movement seemed just a little too deliberate.

Prue frowned, her sharp eyes catching the incongruities. "What's with the lollipop?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her tone laced with suspicion. Her gaze dropped to the candy stick that was still being nervously toyed with.

Paige, trapped in Phoebe's body, froze momentarily, her mind racing as panic crept up her spine. This was it—Prue might catch on, and the last thing she needed was for the truth about their body swap to come out. She forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Paige, uh… sort of got me into them," she stammered, fumbling for a plausible excuse. She waved the lollipop as if it were no big deal.

Prue didn't look convinced. Her piercing stare narrowed further, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Right," she said slowly, drawing out the word like she was cataloging every inconsistency for later inspection.

Piper, sensing the tension between her sisters, cleared her throat nervously and interjected, "Uh… sisters?" She addressed them both, her voice rising an octave in an effort to break the awkward silence. When they both turned their attention to her, she took a deep breath and continued, "Um… I've got to be honest here. I'm really starting to worry about Paige." Her brows furrowed; her concern evident in her tone.

Prue nodded in agreement, inhaling deeply. "I get it," she murmured, her posture stiffening as she crossed her arms.

Phoebe/Paige frowned, playing her role as best she could. "Why? What's wrong with Paige?" she asked warily, hoping to deflect suspicion.

Piper didn't hold back. "Well, first of all, she reminded me how grateful I am not to be the big sister," she began, her tone dripping with frustration as she folded her arms across her chest.

"And she reminded me just how much I hate being the big sister," Prue added, matching Piper's stance, her voice carrying a slight edge of exasperation.

Phoebe/Paige sighed dramatically, her head dipping as she tried to keep up with the whirlwind of accusations. It felt surreal to hear them talk about her—well, about Paige in her body—like this.

"And how it's suddenly my responsibility to teach her how to be a witch, which is so not fair, by the way," Piper continued, her hands gesturing pointedly between Prue and Phoebe/Paige. "And she won't even listen to me!" Piper's frustration bubbled over as she threw her hands up in exasperation.

Phoebe/Paige offered a tentative reply, "Oh, she listens… sometimes," her tone almost apologetic, trying to smooth things over.

Prue's gaze snapped back to her. "Well, sometimes isn't good enough, Phoebe. You know that," she said firmly. "Sometimes could get us killed!" Her voice was resolute, carrying the weight of her eldest-sister authority.

Piper nodded solemnly, her features softening for a moment. "And it's a shame too," she said, her voice laced with a hint of regret. "Because she might actually have a lot of potential," she mused, her expression turning thoughtful as her gaze drifted, lost momentarily in consideration.

Phoebe/Paige perked up at that, her eyes lighting with a flicker of hope. "Really?" she asked, leaning forward slightly, hanging on their words.

"Yeah," Prue answered, her tone sincere, and Phoebe/Paige listened intently, mesmerized by how seamlessly Piper and Prue were able to finish each other's thoughts. "I mean, look at how quickly she's getting a handle on her power, and how determined she is to advance it. Although," Prue added with a sly smile, "I have a feeling that's got something to do with a little bit of sibling rivalry."

"Which never hurt anyone," Piper chimed in, seamlessly picking up where Prue left off, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"No, of course not," Prue agreed, nodding along. "I don't really care where she gets her motivation from, as long as she has it," she concluded, her tone laced with a rare, albeit cautious, optimism.

Piper nodded thoughtfully, her lips pressing into a thin line. "But the problem is, I don't think she really cares about anything," she said, her voice tinged with frustration and a touch of sadness as she folded her arms across her chest.

Phoebe/Paige, who had been momentarily lost in a fascinated trance, shook herself free of it, her hair bouncing lightly with the motion. She quickly shook her head, her expression earnest. "Oh, no, she cares. I know she does," she said firmly, her voice carrying a note of conviction. "You, you just have to give her a chance," she continued, her tone softening as she tried to plead Paige's case. "I think Paige is the kind of person that… needs to learn from her mistakes. And believe me, she's learning fast."

Prue and Piper exchanged a knowing look, their expressions shifting into identical smirks as if they had reached the same unspoken conclusion. Then, in perfect sisterly synchronicity, they turned their gaze back to Phoebe/Paige, their smirks growing.

"So, uh…" Piper began, her tone sly as she let the words hang in the air, clearly enjoying the setup.

"In that respect, she's…" Prue added, picking up the thread seamlessly, her smirk deepening as her eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Well…" Piper chimed back in, the two bouncing off each other effortlessly.

"She's kinda, sorta, like… you, huh?" Prue finished, her voice lilting with playful accusation as she raised an eyebrow, her smirk now fully formed. Piper's smirk mirrored hers, and both of them waited, clearly amused.

Phoebe/Paige blinked, momentarily confused by their teasing. Then, realization dawned, and a smirk of her own began to tug at the corner of her lips. She was about to let it grow when she caught herself, remembering her role—she was supposed to be Phoebe, and Phoebe would never let such a comparison slide. Quickly, she rearranged her expression into a sharp glare, her brows furrowing in mock offense.

Her timing was perfect, and it worked. Both Prue and Piper burst into laughter, their amusement echoing in the room. Phoebe/Paige let out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful that her little act had landed. Inside, though, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth. Their teasing felt almost… affectionate. She wasn't sure if that was directed at her or Paige, but for now, she'd take it.