100 posts tagged “charmed”

 

 

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"

Act III - Part 2

The Charmed Ones, along with Leo, Jason and Paul, finally arrived at the McNeill house, around twelve-thirty in the afternoon. Piper, Leo and Paul held wrapped trays of food and Davies led them to the kitchen. Paige knew she should go upstairs and check with Barbara and the other bridesmaids, but she wanted to join Phoebe (holding young Wyatt) and Jason in the garden and circulate with the other guests first.

"Hmmmmm . . . nice," the youngest Charmed One commented. "I love the way the trees are decorated with . . ." She stopped herself from mentioning the word, "Wiccan" in front of Jason.

The newspaper publisher glanced at the younger woman. "Decorated with what? Those odd symbols hanging from the tree branches? Do you know what they are?"

"Who me?" Paige quickly shrugged. "Haven't the foggiest."

Phoebe patted her boyfriend's arm with a free hand. "Probably some new design for Japanese lanterns or something. I like it."

"Yeah, I guess it's not bad." Jason glanced around, looking uneasy. "God, I never thought I would set foot in this place, again."

A fourth voice added, "That's exactly what I was thinking. Hello Jason." Jack McNeill appeared before the trio.

Jason immediately stiffened. "Jack, it's good to see you, again."

"I'm surprised that you're here. Who invited you?"

After a brief pause, Jason replied, "Uh, the groom. Bruce invited me."

Blue-gray eyes scrutinized the younger man. "Now I remember. Bruce told me that you had changed your mind about your paper doing an article on the Golden Horn. Pretty decent of you." Mr. McNeill's eyes fell upon Wyatt, wriggling in Phoebe's arms. "And who is this young fellow?"

"Wyatt," Phoebe replied breathlessly. "This is Piper and Leo's son."

Mr. McNeill bent down to tickle the baby's chin. Wyatt broke into a wide grin. "He's a charmer," the McNeill patriarch added. "How old is he now? About two months?"

Phoebe said, "That's right. His Wi . . . uh, christening will be held during the first week of May. Next week."

"Yeah, we got our invitations." Mr. McNeill continued to tickle Wyatt's chin.

Jason added, "I hope I'll make it back in time. I'm supposed to be leaving for Hong Kong, tonight. Just for a few days."

"Yeah, I heard about your purchase of Imaton Communications," Mr. McNeill said. "Congratulations."

A pleased smile appeared on Jason's face. "Yeah, I've been negotiating for the company for nearly a . . ."

Mr. McNeill directed his gaze behind Jason's shoulder. "Well, look who's here! Cole! Andre! Over here!" Jason looked embarrassed by the older man's interruption. Phoebe looked as if she wanted to hide.

Paige greeted the half-daemon and the Vodoun priest, as they approached the other four. She also noticed how Phoebe's eyes widened at the sight of Cole's handsome companion. For once, the middle Halliwell seemed unaware of her ex-husband's presence.

Cole became the first to greet the others. "Hey Jack! I see that the wedding is almost in motion. Everything looks lovely."

"Congratulate Gwen and my mother," Mr. McNeill said, shaking Cole's hand. "They had literally taken over the house, this past week." He faced Andre Morrell. "Andre, I see that you made it here, okay. Were you able to pick up Eric?"

Andre nodded. "He was ready and waiting for me, when I arrived."

Mr. McNeill added, "Eric Grant is the . . ." He glanced at Jason. "He's the one who'll be conducting the wedding ceremony. Oh, and I guess that you ladies haven't met Andre, yet."

"I have," Paige said. "Yesterday. He and Cecile helped Piper and me prepare P3 for the bridal shower."

Andre smiled at the youngest Halliwell. "Nice to see you, again." He turned to Phoebe. "And you are . . .?"

"Phoebe Halliwell," Paige's sister replied.

Dark brown eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, so you're Cole's ex." Phoebe's cheeks turned red. Jason's mouth tightened. "It's nice to finally me you. Cole has told me all about you."

"He did?" Phoebe shot uneasy glances at Cole.

The half-daemon spoke up. "Andre and I are old friends. Hell, we've known each other for over ten years."

It finally dawned upon Paige. "That means you two have known each other since you both . . ." Aware of Jason's presence, she finished lamely, ". . . since both of you were in college, huh?"

Jason frowned. "Just over ten years ago? I thought . . ." Both Cole and Andre stared at him. He shook his head. "Nothing."

Andre said to Jason, "I believe we met, last night. Jason, right?"

"Yeah," Jason said with a nod.

Phoebe added, "Jason owns the newspaper that I work for. The SAN FRANCISCO BAY-MIRROR."

"Really?"

Mr. McNeill took control of the conversation. "By the way, Jason, do you mind if we have a private talk? Business." He placed a hand on the young publisher's shoulder and led the latter away from the others.

Once the two men disappeared, Paige turned to Andre. "You're the Vodoun priest who used to be a bokor, right? So that means you and Cole . . ."

"First met when we both walked the path of darkness and evil," Andre finished with a grin. "We met at a party in New Orleans.

Paige continued, "Do you have any powers? Like the rest of us?"

"You mean psi powers?" Andre asked.

Phoebe frowned. "Psi powers? I thought only normal people . . ."

"A lot of people have them," Andre said, interrupting Phoebe. "Whether we practice magic, or not. You know, stuff like telekinesis, premonitions, telepathy. They're all psychic abilities."

Paige added, "That's right. Olivia's grandmother once told me that our real talent for practicing magic lies within using spells, potions and stuff like that."

"Wait a minute!" Phoebe protested. "Are you serious?"

Cole said, "Paige is right. Although a lot of daemons in the Underworld possess psi powers, there are a lot of them who aren't really versed in the practice of magic."

Andre continued, "You see, real magic is centered around potions, spells, and incantations. We use nature, or call upon spirits or gods to tap into magic. Now, as for my psi powers - well, I'm a tetrakinetic. And I also have atmoskinesis."

"Huh?" A confused Paige frowned at the former bokor.

Cole replied, "That means, Andre has the ability to control earth. Tetrakinetic. He's also an atmoskinetic, which means he has control over different elements like fire, ice, water, the air, electricity . . . well, you know what I mean."

"Gee!" Paige declared. "That's a hell of a lot!" From the corner of her eye, she spotted a brunette woman waving at the group. "Does anyone know that woman?"

Cole sighed. "Uh, that's Veronica," he said. "My date." He coughed slightly. "Excuse me." Then he walked away and toward the other woman.

Paige and Phoebe continued to stare at Cole's date. The former commented, "Hmmm, not bad. I wonder if Olivia has seen her."

"So what if she has?" Phoebe protested. Irritation gleamed in her eyes. "Besides, I thought that Olivia was interested in Paul."

Paige shrugged. "Maybe. But after she finds out about Cecile's vision, I don't know if that still might be true."

A deep silence followed. Phoebe gave the younger woman a confused stare. Andre seemed to be holding his breath. And Paige realized that she had just committed a faux pas. "What vision?" Phoebe asked.

Andre said at the same time, "Cecile told you about her vision?"

"You know?" Paige shot back. Of course he did. She should have realized from the expression on Andre's face.

The houngan replied, "Yeah. She told me the morning after she met this Paul character."

"Okay . . . everyone!" Phoebe's voice drew stares from nearby bystanders. She blushed and continued in a softer tone, "When did Cecile have a premonition? And what does it have to do with Paul?"

Paige glanced uneasily at Andre, who shrugged. Then she answered Phoebe's question. "Cecile had her premonition when she first met Paul, on Wednesday night."

"She had a vision of Olivia killing Cole," Andre finished.

Shock reflected in Phoebe's eyes. "Olivia will kill Cole? How . . . how is that possible? No one can kill Cole. He's too strong. We couldn't kill Barbas with the Power of Three, when he had . . ."

"Yeah Pheebs, I know," Paige said, interrupting. "But Olivia did managed to kill Cole in Cecile's vision. I saw it, myself."

Shaking her head, Phoebe demanded, "But how? Why?" Realization lit up her eyes. "Ohmigod! Cole is gonna become evil, again! Isn't he?"

Andre stared at the middle Halliwell with something akin to contempt. "Now what makes you think this means Cole will 'turn evil'? What if this has something to do with Margolin? Or whatever his name?"

"Paul is a witch," Phoebe declared emphatically. "And a good one, I might add."

Andre's lips formed a sneer. "Really? Where I come from - that doesn't mean shit. We don't know why Cecile got the vision, while shaking the hands of Glinda the Good Witch's son. But something tells me that might not prove to be the innocent in all this."

Phoebe opened her mouth to protest, but Paige spoke first. "He might have a point, Phoebe. I mean, don't you find it strange that Cecile would have a premonition of Cole's death by shaking Paul's hand?"

An exasperated gasp left Phoebe's mouth. "I can't believe this! I can't . . . never mind! You know what, Paige? If you want to believe that Cole will turn out to be an innocent in this . . . go ahead. But if I were you, I'd tell Olivia. Unless Cecile already has. However, I plan to tell Leo and Piper." She glared at the other two and walked away.

Silence fell between the witch and the houngan. Paige glanced at Andre, who regarded her with reproach. An uneasy smile touched her lips, as she asked, "Did I just fuck up?" Andre's continuing silence answered her question.

-------------

The gray van marked MORGAN'S, turned left into the McNeill driveway and stopped in front of a high, black iron gate. The driver leaned out of the window and punched the gate's intercom box.

"Yes?" a voice from the intercom demanded.

The driver replied, "I am from Morgan's." He spoke with a slight foreign accent. "I am here to deliver a wedding cake."

"One moment." The iron gate swung open. "You may enter," the other voice continued. "The servant's entrance is on the east side."

"Thank you." Giancarlo sat back into the driver's seat, wearing a smug smile. He drove the van past the gate and followed the driveway toward the large, three-story Spanish-Colonial house. The van finally reached the servant's entrance and stopped.

The van's back doors swung open. Two people - a man and a woman dressed in waiter uniforms, jumped out. They walked over to the driver's side. "Alessandro, Talia," Giancarlo said to the pair, "the greenhouse should not be far from here. According to the Streghone, there you will find the Soma plant."

"Anything else?" Alessandro asked.

Giancarlo answered, "Yes. Try not to use any magic. The Padronessa has no idea how effective is the protection spell around the house. She is trying to counter the spell."

The two daemons nodded and headed toward the house. The service entrance door opened and a tall, thin man wearing a butler's uniform, appeared in the doorway. "Are you the driver from Morgan's?" He spoke with a British accent.

"Yes," Giancarlo politely replied. "The wedding cake is in the back. Shall I help you?" He smiled at the manservant and climbed out of the van.

-----------

Inside one of the bedrooms, Claudia was occupied in creating a spell to counter the protection spell around the McNeills' house. Dressed only in white lingerie and stockings, she stood in the middle of the room with her eyes closed and began to chant in Latin:

"The god, Faunus, hear my plea,

I summon thee to this plane to help me.

Erase the strength of the mallow that surrounds this house,

And allow the magic of Della Scalla to flourish within."

A heavy breeze swirled around Claudia, scattering loose objects around the room. She opened her eyes, walked over to the windowsill and smiled. The sprig of mallow on the windowsill had dried up. Which could signify that the protection spell had disappeared. To test her theory, she teleported out of the bedroom in a cloud of smoke. Seconds later, she reappeared. The spell worked!

"Leonardo!" she hissed. "Leonar. . ."

Claudia broke off, as the door swung open. In walked the young Vodoun priestess and an older version of the red-haired witch. Claudia concluded that the latter must be Gweneth McNeill. "Good heavens!" the older woman declared. "Barbara, you're not dressed! And the ceremony starts in less than forty minutes."

"Sorry," Claudia murmured. "I'm a little nervous right now, and I've been trying to calm myself. But I still managed to do my hair."

Cecile added, "I'll help you get dressed, cherie."

"Oh, that's . . ."

The McNeill witch spoke up. "That sounds like a marvelous idea. Meanwhile, I will check on the food for the reception. The wedding cake has just arrived." She disappeared, leaving Claudia alone with the priestess.

"By the way," Cecile commented, as she walked over to the bed, "I want to thank you for showing good fashion sense in your selection of the bridesmaids' gowns. We all thought we would end up in some hideous outfit."

Claudia noticed the bridesmaid gown that Cecile wore - a light, peach-colored long dress with a square bodice and spaghetti straps. Very simple and tasteful. She smiled wanly. "You're welcome."

"Say honey, why don't you let me help you get into this dress. Here." Cecile held up a cream-colored dress with a halter top. "Step into this." While holding on to Cecile's shoulder, Claudia stepped into the long gown. She stood still, while the other woman slid it upward until Claudia was able to slip her arms through the straps. "There!" Cecile commented with an air of satisfaction. "Turn around and let me zip it up." Once they finished, the Vodoun priestess examined Claudia with admiring eyes. "Now, don't you look lovely! All you need to do is put on your shoes and get your corsage."

Claudia glanced around the room, searching for the latter. "The corsage is somewhere around . . ."

"It's in the greenhouse," Cecile said. "Olivia's mother thought it would be best to keep it fresh there, instead of the fridge. I'll get it."

"No!" Claudia cried out, remembering that two of her minions should be there, searching for the Soma plant. "I mean . . ."

Cecile frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I . . . why don't you get one of the servants . . . what's his name?"

"Davies," Cecile replied quietly. "You really must be nervous, if you can't remember his name."

A heavy sigh left Claudia's mouth. "I must be. Anyway, why don't you let him get the corsage?"

"He's probably busy in the kitchen. I'll get it." Cecile started toward the door.

Claudia's first instinct was to stop the Vodoun priestess with an energy ball. Until she remembered that she could not afford to have a senior bridesmaid disappear before the wedding. That would upset her plan. So would Cecile snooping around the greenhouse. Of course, she could get one of her minions to impersonate the Vodoun priestess. Unfortunately, by the time Claudia had made up her mind to kill Cecile, the latter had left the bedroom.

Cursing out loud, Claudia summoned one of her henchmen. "Leonardo! Come here! Now!"

The younger daemon materialized in the middle of the bedroom. He gazed upon his mistress with open admiration. "La signorina es bellisima!"

"Never mind that!" Claudia growled. "We have a problem! That Vodoun bitch is headed for the greenhouse. Send Giancarlo to warn Talia and Alessandro. Or do it yourself. Tell them to hurry up and find that plant!"

Nodding, Leonardo replied, "Si, Padronessa!" and disappeared. Claudia heaved another sigh, as she fought down a surge of anxiety. Then she leaned down, picked up her shoes and proceeded to don them.

END OF ACT III - Part 2

 

 

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"

Act III - Part 1

"Great party, last night," Paige declared, as she entered the Halliwell kitchen. "A big hit, as far as Livy and the others are concerned. They really loved the male stripper."

Piper commented, "And I bet you did, too." Paige wrinkled her nose. "Anyway," Piper continued, "I'm also satisfied. With the business P3 made last night. Plus, Mrs. McNeill . . . the Younger . . . had asked me to prepare some hors'derves for the wedding reception." She indicated the spread of food on the kitchen table. "I'm making Broccoli Quiche, Shrimp Canapes and Deviled Ham pinwheel sandwiches. And I need your help."

"Swell," Paige grumbled. "I come down for breakfast and end up being the kitchen help. I supposed you don't care that I'm one of the bridesmaids, today."

Removing a plastic bag filled with cooked shrimp from the refrigerator, Piper replied, "Nope, I don't. Besides, I only have to make the canapés. Phoebe went to the store to get some more mayonnaise and Swiss cheese."

The kitchen door swung open. "And Phoebe is here," the middle Charmed One announced breathlessly. She entered the kitchen and closed the door. Dumping her purchase on the table, she added, "Here's the Swiss cheese, Piper."

Paige sat in one of the chairs. "So, what are we having for breakfast?"

Piper shook her head. "Sorry, I haven't had time to make breakfast, yet."

"I could go to McDonald's," Phoebe volunteered. "Who's in the mood for an Egg McMuffin?"

Paige grimaced. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather have a Sunrise sandwich from Carl's Jr. With bacon?"

"Carl's Jr. sounds fine with me," Piper said. She handed the bag of shrimp to Paige. "Sweetie, do me a favor, while Phoebe gets breakfast. Start peeling the shrimp for me?"

Phoebe added, "And I'll be heading for Carl's Jr. Besides a Sunrise sandwich with bacon, what do you guys want?"

Before Paige or Piper could answer, Leo burst into the kitchen. "Leo honey," Piper began, "Phoebe's getting breakfast from Carl's Jr. What do you want?"

"I'll have orange juice and toast," Leo replied absent-mindedly.

Paige frowned at him. "Toast? From Carl's Jr.? Don't you mean French Toast?"

Leo's blue eyes focused upon the youngest Charmed One and chilled slightly. "Never mind breakfast," he said. "I just want to know Paige - why did you tell Cole that I had recommended that ADA job to Paul?"

"Huh?" Paige stared at her brother-in-law with wide eyes. "Leo, what are you talking about?"

Grim-faced, Leo leaned against the kitchen counter. "Last night, I ended up in a fight with Cole . . ."

"Did he hurt you?" a concerned Phoebe asked.

Leo shook his head. "No, it was all words. But he told me that Paige," he coldly returned his gaze upon the youngest sister, "had told him how Paul found out about the ADA job opening. Through me. And now, Cole is convinced that I had done it to play matchmaker with Olivia and Paul."

"Well excuse me, Leo!" Paige retorted. "But it was Paul who told me at Nathalie Gleason's party, last week! And judging from that little dinner party you and Piper gave nearly a month ago, and your expression every time we saw him with Olivia . . . can you really blame Cole for suspecting that you're playing matchmaker?"

The other two sisters stared at the whitelighter. Piper asked, "Paige, are you suggesting that Leo helped Paul get a job out here, simply to . . . break up Cole and Olivia?"

"There is no Cole and Olivia to begin with!" Leo hotly insisted. "They weren't even dating!"

Paige spoke up, "But you did tell Paul about the job opening. Right? So that you could hook him up with Olivia?"

"I see nothing wrong with that," Piper commented. "Paul has a new job with a higher salary. He and Olivia seemed to get along." She shot her husband, an acidic look. "Of course, someone could have told us what he was up to."

Phoebe added, "And Olivia could do a lot worse than Paul. Say . . . my ex-husband?"

"Well that's great, Pheebs," Paige shot back, "except I don't see how Paul can be good for Livy, when she doesn't even love him. And besides . . . I think there's something a little off about our friendly neighborhood ADA. Like he's in dire need of a good psychotherapist!"

Leo protested, "What are you saying? That Paul's crazy? And as Olivia's whitelighter, I think I did the right thing by . . ."

"Interfering with Olivia's love life?" Paige suggested sarcastically. "Yeah, I'm sure you feel that way. Only . . . you haven't been her whitelighter in years!"

"Paige . . ."

The youngest Charmed One rounded on her whitelighter. "If you're worried about Cole knowing about your little scheme, Leo, don't bother. Because you might have a bigger problem on your hands. Like a pissed-off witch, if Olivia ever finds out."

Leo's face paled.

--------

Slowly, light poured into the darkness of Barbara's mind. When the darkness finally disappeared, the blond witch blinked her eyes several times, before opening them.

The room looked very unfamiliar with its wood-paneled walls and expensive Louis XV furnishings. Filled with panic at the unfamiliar surroundings, Barbara jerked into a sitting position. Where in the hell was she? The last thing she remembered was encountering the male stripper, who had transformed into a . . .

The door opened and in walked a tall, good-looking man who possessed dark hair and a slender, yet wiry physique. The same man who had once been a blond-haired stripper, last night. "Oh God! It's you!" Barbara sprung off the bed and back away, bumping into the night stand. "Stay away from me!"

The man smiled. "Do not worry, Signorina. I will not hurt you." His dark eyes grew threatening. "Unless you give me a reason."

"Who in the hell are you?" Barbara demanded. "And where am I?"

Bowing, the man continued, "My name is Alessandro. And you're at the home of Signorina Claudia Della Scalla."

Barbara grew cold at the mention of her hostess's name. "Della . . .?" she whispered. Then, "Oh my God! Della Scalla! Olivia was right!"

"There is someone who wishes to speak with you." Alessandro opened the door and stood aside, while a second figure entered the bedroom. Nick Marcano.

The Stregheria witch smiled broadly. "Barbara! It's good to see you!"

Barbara marched toward Nick and punched him in the jaw. Hard. He sprawled onto the floor. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Nick?"

Rubbing his jaw, the Streghone protested, "Me? This is not my doing!" He stood up. "I'm . . . Signorina Della Scalla had me sprung from jail. She thought I had killed her sister."

Searing the other witch with a furious glare, Barbara hissed, "And I bet you made sure that you told her what really happened. Didn't you?"

"I had no choice!"

Barbara shot back, "If that's true, why am I here?"

Nick hesitated. "Well . . ."

"Signor Marcano had provided much needed information to the Padronessa," the incubus explained smoothly. "And he is being rewarded for his troubles."

"Rewarded?" Barbara frowned. "How?" She turned to Nick. "What exactly did you tell her?" Recalling how Alessandro had captured her in the first place, a horrifying epiphany struck the blond witch. "Goddess! You told her everything about us, didn't you? About the wedding!"

Nick added, "Signorina Della Scalla needed the information to get close to Bruce. But don't worry. She won't kill him before the wedding. She's going to marry Bruce in your place . . . and then kill him. Eventually. As for us . . . well, how do you feel about becoming Mrs. Nicholas Marcano?" He stared at Barbara with hopeful eyes.

Barbara decided to give Nick an answer that best expressed her feelings. Her fist snaked out and smashed against Nick's jaw. For the second time. And for the second time, he went sprawling upon the floor. "Does that answer your question?" Barbara coldly replied.

The incubus helped Nick to his feet. "Signorina, I suggest that you refrain from such behavior, again. You should consider yourself lucky that the Padronessa has decided to spare your life. For Signor Marcano's sake. Meanwhile, you can shower and dress. There are some clothes in the closet. And a servant will bring you breakfast. Good day, Signorina Bowen." Alessandro left the room, dragging along a semi-conscious Nick.

Once the door closed behind the pair, Barbara rushed forward. She re-opened the door and tried to leave the bedroom. But she was unable to, thanks to a force-field blocking the doorway. In other words, she was trapped. And unless she could escape in time to warn her family and the McNeills, Bruce will end up dead by the time his honeymoon ended.

---------

The pounding on the door awaken Claudia from her deep slumber. She rolled over to her right side, heaved a sigh and tried to resume her sleep. The pounding resumed. Then the doorbell rang. "Barbara! Hello? Wake up!"

Barbara? Claudia blinked several times before her eyes flickered open. She sat up, glanced around the bedroom, and remembered. Oh yes. The bedroom belonged to the Streghone's little Wiccan witch. Claudia's eyes swept over the room. Very tastefully furnished. The succubus could not help but feel impressed by the witch's taste.

Ding-dong! The doorbell rang for the second time. Claudia waited for a servant to respond . . . until she remembered that the Bowen witch did not have servants. How barbaric. Heaving a sigh, she forced herself out of bed and started toward the apartment's living room. A quick glance at a mirror hanging near the door informed Claudia that she was not in disguise. She morphed herself into the image of the blond-haired witch and opened the door.

"Here comes the bride! Here comes the bride!" sang two women, as they entered the apartment. One of them, the Vodoun priestess, swept her eyes over Claudia. The latter's hand immediately flew to the small amulet hanging from her neck. "Damn Barbara! Are you just getting up? It's a quarter past ten!"

Claudia stared at the other two. "After ten? Get ready? Why should . . .?" Her mind immediately grasped the situation. "Oh! Yeah. The wedding. How long do I have?"

"Man, you have lost it this morning!" the redheaded witch declared. "I thought you would have been eating breakfast by now. Where's your wedding dress?" She swept past Claudia and into the bedroom.

Wedding dress? Several seconds passed before the succubus realized that she did not know where to find it. "I . . . uh . . ."

"I've got it!" the McNeill witch cried. She re-entered the living-room, carrying two plastic-covered garments. "I've got your going-away dress, as well. Why don't you take a shower and get dressed, so we can leave? We can get breakfast at my parents' house."

Claudia blinked. "Oh. Okay." She started to turn away.

"What's that?" The Vodoun priestess pointed at the amulet hanging from Claudia's neck. The same amulet that contained a spell to block any power from another telepath.

Being the quick-witted creature that she was, Claudia immediately came up with an answer. "Oh. That." She fingered the amulet. "It's a good luck piece. For the wedding."

The priestess, whose name Claudia recalled was Cecile, continued to stare at the amulet. "That's an interesting symbol for good luck. What language is it? Where did it come from?"

Panic quickly became relief when the other woman interrupted. "Hello? Ladies? We have a wedding to attend. We don't have much time."

Claudia used the warning to excuse herself and return to the bedroom. Once inside, she summoned her right-hand man, Leonardo. The incubus materialized after her third cry. "Yes Padronessa?" he responded with a bow.

Throwing off her robe in a theatrical manner, Claudia said, "One of the women in the other room - the black woman . . ."

"The Vodoun mami, Dubois," Leonard added.

Claudia continued, "I want you to find someone to keep an eye on her. Get Giancarlo. She has developed an interest in my amulet. And I'm not sure that it is blocking her power, completely."

Leonardo said, "I will summoned him, right away."

Nodding Claudia added, "Bueno. Now all I want him to do is observe her. But if she becomes a problem . . . have Giancarlo kill her. If necessary."

---------

The solid redwood door swung open and Cole, along with his companion, found themselves facing a surprised-looking major-domo. "Mr. Turner," Davies greeted, staring at the woman clutching the half-daemon's arm, "welcome back. Come in."

The pair entered the McNeills' house. Veronica Altman glanced around the foyer with admiring eyes. Cole noticed that her lips had puckered for a whistle. Fortunately, not a sound came out. Especially since Gweneth McNeill chose that moment to enter the foyer.

"Cole!" The middle-aged redhead embraced her new visitor. Then she pecked his cheek. "Darling, I'm so glad that you're here. Jack needs help supervising the set-up for the ceremony in the garden. Harry is upstairs, babysitting the groom." Her green eyes fell upon Veronica. "Oh. Who is this?"

Cole responded with a slight cough. "Uh Gwen, this is Veronica Altman. She's a fellow attorney at my firm. Veronica, this is Gweneth . . ."

"Gweneth McNeill." Veronica eagerly shook the chef's hands. "I'm a big fan of yours. In fact, I even have two of your cookbooks."

Flattery lit up Gweneth's eyes. "Really? How lovely! Which two books do you have?"

An excited Veronica continued, "Well, I have the one on British cooking and the Fifty Simple Recipes cookbook. They're great!"

It took all of Cole's efforts not to wince at Veronica's adulation. Or kick her in the shin and tell her to ease up on the celebrity worship. But since the other attorney was doing him a favor, Cole remained silent. A few minutes later, the subject of cookbooks finally ended. "I would really love to chat a little longer, Ms. Altman," Gweneth said, "but I have a wedding to organize. Would you excuse . . .?"

The front door swung open and three women entered the house - Cecile, Barbara, and Olivia. "We're here!" the latter declared loudly. "Mom, Cecile and I finally got Barbara . . ." She stopped short at the sight of Cole and Veronica standing next to each other. "Oh. Cole." A tinge of jealousy crept into her voice - much to Cole's satisfaction. "Who's your friend? She looks familiar."

Suppressing a smile, Cole replied, "You remember Veronica Altman from my firm, don't you? I believe you two had once met at some office party."

"Actually, we've met twice," Veronica said, offering her hand to Olivia, who coolly regarded it. "At the Christmas office party and at the firm's charity benefit, last February. Nice to see you, again, Olivia. It is Olivia, right?"

A cool smile touched Olivia's lips. She finally shook Veronica's hand. "Oh yes. I remember you. From the charity benefit."

Cole turned Veronica's attention to the other women. "By the way, this is Cecile Dubois. She's a friend of Olivia's. And so is Barbara," he said, indicating the blond-haired woman. "Who happens to be the bride."

Veronica shook Cecile's hands and smiled at Barbara. "Congratulations on the wedding. I hope you'll be happy."

The bride-to-be responded with a wan smile. "Thanks." To Cole's surprise, he felt a familiar tingle at the nape of his neck. The last time he had felt such a sensation . . .

"I hope that you'll enjoy the wedding, Ms. Altman," Gweneth said, interrupting Cole's thoughts. "I believe it will be quite different from what you're used to."

Veronica's smoky gray eyes widened. "Oh?"

"Our family and Barbara's family are into what is known as New Age religion. It's a new kind of religion based on some old Celtic Pagan one."

Nodding, Veronica said, "That should be no problem. I mean, this is San Francisco. New Age religion has been around for the past 30 or 40 years in this town. At the last wedding I had attended, the bride and groom were married in a some kind of old Romanian ceremony." She turned to Cole. "Remember Cole? It was at Stefan Schroeder's wedding, nearly two weeks ago."

Cole became aware of eyes staring at him. "That's strange," Olivia said thoughtfully. "You never mentioned anything about attending a wedding to me."

Despite the intensity radiating from Olivia's green eyes, Cole maintained his composure. "You weren't available that day. I believe you and Paul had taken a trip to Napa Valley."

Olivia's eyes flickered. "Oh."

Tension surrounded the six people like a heavy fog. Mercifully, Gweneth broke the silence. "Well, I'm sure we would all love to stand around and talk, but I have a wedding to supervise. Jack is waiting for Cole, and I'm sure that you girls need to get ready."

Her words did the trick. Gweneth exchanged a few more words with Veronica and left. Olivia, along with Cecile and Barbara started upstairs. As they climbed the staircase, Olivia shot a quick glare at Cole and Veronica.

"Looks like your plan is working," Veronica commented, after the three other women disappeared upstairs. "Did you see the look your friend gave us?"

Cole sighed. "Oh yeah. I saw." Only now, he began to wonder if he had gone too far with this jealousy scheme.

END OF ACT III - Part 1

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"

ACT II - Part 3

Cole and Andre were among the last guest to arrive at the Vorando Club that night. Everyone else seemed to be there - including the McNeill men, Darryl, Leo, Paul Margolin, personal friends of Bruce, a handful of Golden Horn employees and . . . Jason Dean. The latter's presence took Cole by surprise. He had no idea that Dean was friends with either Bruce or Harry.

The red-haired witch rushed forth to greet the two newcomers. "I see you finally made it," he commented. "I was beginning to worry."

"Sorry we're late," Cole apologized. "I had an errand to run, on my way home." He nodded at the newspaper publisher. "I uh, didn't realize you were going to invite him."

Harry sighed. "I really had not planned on it. But Bruce asked me to extend an invitation."

Cole's brows lifted questioningly. "The question is . . . why?"

"After that article on the Golden Horn in SAN FRANCISCO TODAY, Jason had changed his mind about printing his own article in the BAY-MIRROR. Bruce found out about it and asked me to invite him to the party."

"Great," Cole grumbled. "Now I have to deal with both Margolin and Dean, tonight."

Andre asked, "And who is this Dean character?"

"Jason Dean, publisher of the SAN FRANCISCO BAY-MIRROR newspaper," Cole answered. "He's Phoebe's boss and present boyfriend." He paused momentarily. "And Olivia's ex."

Harry added, "Ex-boyfriend."

A light chuckle escaped from Andre's mouth. "Wait a minute! You mean to say that you and this fellow Dean . . . switched partners?"

"Considering that I've never dated Olivia, I don't see how that's possible," Cole retorted.

Harry quickly spoke up. "Hey, why don't you two mingle a little? I have to speak with Riggerio about the booze. Would you believe it? We're already running low." He walked away.

The two friends glanced around the club and spotted Darryl Morris sampling food from the refreshment table. "Darryl!" Cole greeted cheerfully.

The police inspector whirled around. "Hey Cole," he replied. His eyes scrutinized the half-demon's companion. "I guess you must be . . ."

"Andre. Andre Morrell." The houngan offered his hand. Darryl shook it. "I'm uh, an old friend of Cole's. And Cecile's boyfriend."

Nodding, Darryl replied, "Yeah, Cecile. Are you . . . Voo . . . I mean, Vodoun, like her?"

Cole spoke up. "Andre is a priest. A houngan."

"And are you as powerful as Cecile?" Darryl asked.

Andre shrugged his shoulders. "Not really."

"Bullshit!" Cole retorted fondly. "Don't let him fool you, Darryl. He's very powerful. Anyway, Andre, this is Darryl Morris, Olivia's partner. He is also an old friend of the Halliwells."

The Vodoun priest's eyes narrowed. "Darryl Morris? You're the one who was possessed by Dako's spirit, last December. Right?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Darryl heaved a large sigh. "That's one experience I never want to experience again. Cecile told me that his spirit hasn't really been vanquished."

Andre responded with a disarming smile. "Afraid not. His spirit was probably returned to the netherworld. We Vodouns believe that death is not the end . . . if you know what I mean. Dako can be summoned again . . . unless his loa has been reborn in another body."

"Loa?" Darryl frowned. "That's spirit, right?"

"Yeah." Andre added, "Cecile had told me that some warlocks had Dako's spirit trapped in some urn or jug. And that someone had sent it to them."

Cole said, "Some bokor named William Dagbani. He's never been found by the police. Just disappeared . . ." He halted at the sight of Leo, Margolin and Jason Dean approaching them. "Look who's here," he murmured. "Three of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

"Gentlemen," Jason announced politely. "Enjoying yourself?"

Darryl smiled. "Very much. How about you?"

Jason replied, "I'm fine." He turned to Andre. "Are you a friend of Bruce's?"

"You can say that," Andre said. "But I'm also a friend of Cecile Dubois'. And Cole's. Andre Morrell."

The publisher's smile lost some of its warmth. "Oh. Yeah. Nice to meet you, too."

Margolin offered his hand to Andre. "Paul Margolin. I met Cecile, two days ago."

Andre shook Paul's hand. "Oh yeah. She told me. She also told me that you work at the . . ."

"At the District Attorney's Office. I'm an ADA." Paul finally acknowledged Cole's presence with a nod. "Turner." Then he returned his attention to Andre. "What exactly do you do?"

Andre replied, "I'm a private investigator in New Orleans."

"Oh really," Jason said. "I'm a newspaper publisher. For the SAN FRANCISCO BAY-MIRROR. Perhaps we can use your skills here in San Francisco. Especially since our police department," he gave Darryl a pointed look, "seemed to be having trouble doing their job."

Rolling his eyes, Darryl sarcastically retorted, "May I assume that you're referring to Nick Marcano's escape?"

Blue eyes frosted slightly. "Yes Inspector, you may assume. This isn't just another rant against the police force, about the press. Marcano had killed one of my employees. Remember DeWolfe Mann?"

Darryl stiffened. "I'm well aware of that fact, Mr. Dean," he replied coolly. "I'm also aware that whoever helped him escape, killed two County Sheriff guards."

Jason added, "Don't you mean, incinerate? One of my employees got the details on the killings. Do the police have any idea how that happened?"

"I have no idea," Darryl said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Sensing an opportunity for mischief, Cole spoke up. "Perhaps the killings happened because of some supernatural phenomenon." His companions stared at him.

"Cole . . ." Leo began, wearing a disapproving frown.

Jason quickly interrupted, "Is this your idea of a sick joke, Turner? DeWolfe Mann was one of your clients." His face expressed outrage at Cole's comment.

Cole coolly added, "I'm not joking. Tell me this - how do you explain the burnt bodies? Or for that matter, Portia Della Scalla? She mysteriously appears at your newspaper and you hire her without any references." Jason visibly winced, much to Cole's pleasure. "And when Marcano is arrested, she quickly disappears. I mean, exactly who . . . or what is Portia Della Scalla? And how did the bodies of those guards end up scorched like that? Did someone at the County jail see Marcano's rescuer with a blow torch, or something?"

Caution radiated from Darryl's tone. "Cole, maybe this isn't the right . . ."

"Wait a minute!" a shocked Jason cried out. "Are you trying to say that Portia Della Scalla is some kind of supernatural being? And that magical forces were behind DeWolfe Mann's mur . . ."

Andre quickly interrupted. "Uh . . . say Cole, look over there!" he said in a falsely jovial voice. "I do believe I see an old friend." He grabbed Cole's arm. "Why don't we say hello?" Cole allowed the other man to drag him away from the others. The moment they were out of earshot, Andre rounded on the half-daemon. "Dammit man! What the hell's wrong with you? Are you crazy? Speaking out on magic like that?"

"Oh c'mon!" Cole protested. "I was just having a little fun with the guy. He was getting on my nerves."

Andre gave Cole a shrewd look. "This doesn't have anything to do with the fact that he's Phoebe's boyfriend?" He paused. "Or that he used to date Olivia?"

Cole responded by rolling his eyes. "Look, the guy is annoying bastard. Olivia's family seemed to think so. And didn't you see the way Darryl was looking at him?"

"Uh-huh," Andre grunted. The two friends approached the nightclub's owner, who was engrossed in a conversation with one of his employees. After the latter walked away, Andre rushed toward the owner, grinning widely. "Well, look who's here!" he proclaimed loudly.

Riggerio stared at the pair and his lips broke into a grin. "Andre! Mio amico! What are you doing here? I have not seen you in a long time!"

"Not that long," Andre shot back. "Maybe four years." He enveloped the daemon into a bear hug.

Riggerio returned Andre's hug. "Longer than that. Perhaps five. We last saw each other in Marsailles, in 1998. What have you been doing, since?"

Andre shrugged. "Oh, not much. Gave up on being a bokor."

A frown appeared on Riggerio's face. "You no longer practice magic?"

"Oh! Oh no!" Andre said with a laugh. "No, I haven't given up on that. I just . . . uh, I'm a hougan now, not a bokor.

Nodding, Riggerio said, "Ah! I understand. You are one of the 'buoni tipi', now. Good guys. Or how do you say it? 'Sul percorso diritto e stretto'. Sì?"

"Straight and narrow . . .? Me?" One of Andre's brows formed a dubious arch. "Listen man, I may have given up being a bokor, but I'm no saint."

Riggerio nodded. "My apologies," he replied smoothly. "I did not mean to insult you. I must say that you and Belthazor seemed to be creating a trend of our kind rejecting the uh . . . dark side. Becoming good guys. No?"

Cole smirked. "C'mon Riggerio. We all know there those among our kind who don't follow a darker path. And I seem to recall that your coven does not serve one side or the other. In fact, you never have. And you're offering your club for a witch's bachelor party."

A disarming smile graced Riggerio's lips. "I am a businessman, il mio amico. Why should I pass up an opportunity for profit?"

"Why indeed?" Cole added. "By the way, I was wondering if you could help me on an important matter."

"You are speaking of the Streghone who had recently escaped from jail. Yes?"

Cole nodded. "Right, as usual." He paused. "When you first told us about Portia Della Scalla, you had also mentioned an older sis . . ."

Riggerio interrupted. "Claudia. She is . . . was Portia's older sister."

"Do you know if she's . . .?"

Again, the daemon interrupted. "Yes, she is here in San Francisco. I have just recently discovered. The word is that she is looking for revenge ag . . ."

This time, Cole interrupted. "Against Bruce." He sighed. "So, she must have been the one responsible for the jail break. I should have known."

"Should have known what?" a new voice asked. The other three stared at the guest of honor, who stood behind Cole. "What are you talking about?"

Cole, Andre and Riggerio hesitated. Finally, the half-daemon spoke. "We were talking about Nick Marcano. We uh, might have an idea who's behind his escape."

Bruce stared at the trio. "Like who? Portia Della Scalla is dead. I killed her."

"She had a sister," Cole continued. "Claudia Della Scalla."

A sigh left Bruce's mouth. "Great! And I bet she's after me. Right?" When Cole and the others failed to answer, he nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for the answer. I think that any chance of me enjoying this party has been shot. Other than surviving long enough to marry Barbara, I can't see anything that will put me in a good mood."

Harry's voice boomed above the music. "Take a seat, everyone! It's time for our stripper!"

Andre turned to Bruce. "Well, there's something to look forward to."

---------

"So, when is the stripper going to perform?" Paige impatiently asked Cecile. The pair sat before P3's bar, sipping their drinks. Paige held a glass of Seven-Up, while Cecile nursed a margarita. An Aimee Mann song blasted from the club's sound system. "Don't get me wrong. The party's great, but I've been looking forward to my first male stripper."

Disbelief shone in Cecile's dark eyes. "Your first?"

"Okay, my fifth," Paige retorted. "But I've never seen one at a bridal shower."

Cecile frowned. "What about Piper and Phoebe's bridal showers?"

Paige took a sip of her Seven-Up. "I wasn't around when Piper and Leo got married. And Phoebe and Cole had a pre-wedding supper for the family. It was nice, but considering that Cole was possessed at the time . . ."

"Well, be thankful that neither Barbara or Bruce are demonically possessed," Cecile said to the younger woman.

"Yeah, but they still have a vengeful succubus and Nick Marcano to worry about." A sigh left Paige's mouth. "Why can't Wiccan weddings go smoothly?"

Cecile added, "From what Cole had told me, he and Phoebe were married by a priest."

Paige corrected her. "A demon disguised as a priest. I mean, a dark priest from the Underworld."

"And yet, weren't they originally supposed to be married in a Catholic chapel?" Cecile demanded. "So, why didn't they have a Wiccan ceremony?"

"I don't know. I never really bothered to ask." The music continued to fill the nightclub. Paige watched some of the guests sway to the music. She saw Piper leave the club's kitchen, carrying a tray of canapés. Phoebe sat on the Halliwells' official sofa, holding Wyatt. The younger Mrs. McNeill sat with her. The others - including Olivia, Mrs. Dubois, and Barbara, were on the dance floor. Caught up in the music and the atmosphere, Paige failed to hear Cecile's next words. "What did you say?"

Barely shouting above the music, Cecile repeated, "I was asking about the daemon who had taken Cole's powers!"

Paige frowned at the other woman. "You mean Barbas? Why are you interested in him? He's dead. Cole killed him."

"Oh." Cecile paused. Took a sip of her margarita. Then, "Before Cole got his powers back, did you and your sisters try to kill Barbas?"

Wondering what this conversation was leading to, Paige stared at the priestess. "Uh, yeah. We tried using the Power of Three spell - the same one we had used on the Source - but it didn't work. With Cole's powers, Barbas was too strong."

Cecile took another sip. "This Power of Three spell, it's the one in which you had also invoke the powers of your ancestors. Right?"

Paige forgot about her drink. "Okay Cecile, what's this about?"

"Listen, I'm not sure I should tell you this," Cecile began. "In fact, I'm not sure if I should tell anyone. It started when I first met . . ." She broke off, as two other figures approached the bar. Her mother and Olivia's grandmother. "Hey Mama, Mrs. McNeill! Enjoying the party?"

Elise McNeill smiled at the two younger women. "It's not bad. Although I could use a little Tony Bennett. Or Nat King Cole." She said to Cecile, "When is the stripper going to perform?"

"Huh?" Paige blinked. Did she just hear a seventy-something woman ask about a male stripper.

Blue eyes twinkled merrily. "I was asking about the stripper. I may be seventy-nine, but I'm also a woman."

"Ditto," Mrs. Dubois added.

"Why is everyone asking me?" Cecile demanded. "Olivia planned this party." The other three continued to stare at her. She sighed. "Okay, the stripper should be showing up around nine. Happy?" Both Mrs. McNeill and Mrs. Dubois expressed delight. Cecile rolled her eyes.

Recalling her previous conversation with the younger Vodoun priestess, Paige decided to bring it up. "Cecile, what were you about to tell me? Something about Cole's powers, I think."

Discomfort flashed across Cecile's face. "Oh. That. Uh, it's nothing. Well, maybe . . ." She sighed. "Okay, I might as well mention it, especially since I wanted to talk to you, Mama, about it. And Mrs. McNeill. I had a vision. When I met Olivia's new friend at Pier 39, Wednesday night."

"Paul Margolin?" Mrs. McNeill demanded. "What did you . . .?"

Mrs. Dubois added, "Why don't you just show us, cherie?"

Cecile glanced around. Then her eyes widened. Paige realized that the telepath was about to send her vision. "Uh, wait . . ." The Charmed One gasped, as the vision overwhelmed her mind. Once it had ended, she cried out, "Oh my God!"

"You're telling me!" Mrs. McNeill added in astonished tones. "Did I just see Olivia kill Cole?"

Nodding, Cecile said to Paige, "That's why I was asking about that Barbas guy."

"But that's impossible!" Paige exclaimed. "How could . . . how would Livy be able to kill Cole, when we weren't able to vanquish Barbas when he had Cole's powers?"

Cecile shrugged. "Don't ask me."

"Why would Olivia kill Cole in the first place?" Cecile's mother asked.

An uneasy feeling overcame Paige. "Maybe . . . Do you think that Cole will turn evil, again?"

Mrs. McNeill commented, "I'm wondering why this vision came to Cecile, 'after' she had shook Paul's hand. And why did he have that strange expression on his face? He looked so . . ."

"Smug?" Mrs. Dubois suggested. The elderly woman nodded.

"Yeah, I also noticed that," Cecile added. "There's just something about him that . . . I don't know. He just makes me feel uneasy."

Paige asked, "Will you tell Olivia?"

Cecile sighed. "I don't know. What am I going to say? Tell her to break up with . . . what's his name?"

"Paul," Mrs. McNeill added.

Continuing, Cecile said, "What do I say to Livy? Tell her to break up with Paul, because I had a vision of her killing Cole . . . after shaking Paul's hand?"

"Don't tell her," Mrs. McNeill ordered. "At least not yet. Wait and see how this . . . friendship with Paul turn out. If it becomes serious and affects Cole, then tell her." She sighed. "Or maybe you should simply go ahead and tell her, anyway."

Cecile's mouth formed a grim line. "Shit! There are times I wish I never had this damn power! Seeing the future sure can be a curse!"

A sympathetic Paige nodded. "Yeah, think that's how Phoebe feels, sometimes."

----------

A tall, muscular figure emerged from the apartment building and started toward the blue-gray Toyota, parked next to the curb. Just as Lee Carver leaned forward to open the car door, a second figure materialized beside him, causing the dancer to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Christ! You scared the hell out of me! What do you want?" he demanded in an irritated voice.

"Pardon signor," the man replied in a smooth accent. Italian. "I am . . . eh, new to San Francisco and I am trying to find someone. Uh, a Signor Lee Carver. Do you know him?"

Lee peered closely at the man. The latter seemed respectable. Non-threatening. He was a tall, dark-haired man with a slender, yet wiry frame. "I'm Lee Carver. What do you want?"

The stranger expressed surprise. "Oh! You are Signor Carver? Who works at the Strobe Light Club as a dancer?"

Wariness overcame Lee. How in the hell did this guy knew where he worked? "Okay Dude, who in the hell are you?"

The man responded with an easy smile. "My name is Alessandro Pelligio. I am the . . . new owner of a club in North Beach. I am looking for new dancers. After seeing your act at the Strobe Light, I thought you would be interested in a new job. That is . . . if you're the same Signor Carver."

"I'm him!" Lee's interest perked a bit. "I'm Lee Carver. Listen, I have a gig, tonight. At a private party. So, why don't we deal with this later?"

A smile stretched Pelligio's lips. "Don't worry, Signor. This will not take long." His eyes suddenly glowed red.

Lee's eyes widened in fear. "What the . . .?" Seconds later, his entire body seared with heat. Lee blacked out, but not before his voice filled the air with screams of pain.

---------

Cheers and whistles from onlookers filled the Vorando Club. On stage, a scantily-clad female gyrated to the music blasting from the club's sound system. Every man had his eyes glued to the dancer - save for a handful. Both Jack McNeill and Riggerio were engaged in some kind of conversation. Leo seemed downright embarrassed by the dancer's performance and focused elsewhere. Cole simply felt bored. Strippers had never done much for him.

Once the performance ended, the bachelor party's guests broke into a round of applause. The stripper waved and left the stage. Riggerio left Mr. McNeill's side and walked onstage to present the next act. Cole rolled his eyes in disgust. It was another stripper. Great. When the next act began, Cole slipped off the bar stool and strode out of the club.

Outside of the club, Cole took a few deep breaths and watched the cars speed along Powell. A few minutes passed and he became aware another figure leaving the nightclub. "Cole?" a voice declared in a surprised tone. "I didn't realize . . ."

The half-daemon glanced to his left and heaved an annoyed sigh. "Leo. Is there something I can do for you?"

"Huh?" The whitelighter's blue eyes widened. "No! I mean . . . no, I uh, I just stepped out for some fresh air."

A smirk curled Cole's lips. "Oh, I see. The entertainment wasn't much to your taste."

"No." Even in the dark, Cole could tell that Leo was blushing. "I mean . . . it's like I said - I needed the air. That's all."

"Okay. Sure." Cole turned away from the whitelighter and continued to watch the passing traffic. He added, "Personally, I didn't care for the entertainment. Watching strippers were never my style."

Frustration tinged Leo's sigh. "Look, I wasn't bothered by the strippers, okay?. They were around in my day too, you know."

"I didn't say that you were bothered by them," Cole shot back.

Leo retorted, "Maybe not, but you seemed bent on hinting that I . . . that I'm some kind of prude."

His sense of peace shattered, Cole snarled, "You know Leo? I don't give a rat's ass what you think about the strippers! Okay?"

"You never seemed to care what anyone thinks," Leo shot back. "At least, lately."

Cole glared at his former brother-in-law. "That's right. I don't care! You see, I've grown wiser over the past several months."

"Well, if you were so 'wise', you would have never made that crack about magic to Jason!"

Rolling his eyes, Cole retorted, "I was just pulling the guy's leg! Besides, he will have to learn the truth about Phoebe and the others, one of these days."

"It was dangerous, Cole! Just like that deal you made with the Seer to become the Source. Tell me, was it wise for you to come back from the Wasteland?" Leo faced Cole, his blue eyes chips of ice. "Had it ever occurred to you, Cole that you should have stayed dead?"

Anger washed over Cole. "First of all, I had made a deal to use the Hollow to take the Source's powers temporarily, not become the Source! Second . . ."

"Oh come on, Cole! Who are you kidding? Those powers turned you into the Source!"

Cole took a deep breath and counted to three. One . . . two . . . three . . . "Leo, those damn powers DID NOT turn me into the Source," he growled. "If they had, then Piper and Paige's powers should have made the Source two-thirds of the Charmed Ones! And they, along with Phoebe would have never been able to vanquish the Source using a Power of Three spell! But they did, because the Hollow didn't give him their essence. In fact, it wasn't until after they had killed the bastard that his essence began to take possession of my body. If you and the Self-Righteous Ones had bothered to stop and consider how I became the Source, you probably would have found out! How many fucking times does someone have to tell you?"

Leo began, "And what about . . .?"

"As for my decision to leave the Wasteland," Cole continued, "I didn't plan on it. Not at first. I was about to give myself up to the Beast when the power of a vanquished daemon fell upon me. So I took advantage of the situation and gathered more powers."

Shaking his head with dismay, Leo replied, "And you never stopped to think that you shouldn't have done it?"

"Maybe the Halliwells shouldn't have killed me when I was possessed!" Cole snarled. "Or . . . did you ever stop to think that your little scheme to marry Piper behind your bosses' backs was wrong?"

Leo's face hardened. "You were responsible for them finding out! And I wanted to marry Piper! How is that wrong?"

Cole retorted, "I don't know, Leo. Perhaps it was, because you were so willing to risk the sisters' lives to get what you wanted. Well, I wanted a second chance with Phoebe! Unlike you, I didn't get my wish. Hopefully, I might have a chance with someone else."

"If you're speaking of Olivia, forget it!" Leo's voice bridled with contempt. "She has interests, elsewhere."

Cole gave the whitelighter a shrewd look. "And all according to plan. Right Leo? Isn't Olivia the reason you had talked Margolin into applying for a job, here on the West Coast?"

Leo shot back, "It's for her own good! Considering your talent for bringing chaos in your wake, I thought it was prudent that Olivia became interested in someone who's a lot safer and more dependable!" He paused, as horror over his revelation filled his eyes.

A knowing smile touched Cole's lips. "So, Paige was right after all. She told me what Margolin had said to her at Nathalie Gleason's party. About your little matchmaking scheme."

The whitelighter's body stiffened. "I suppose you're going to tell her. Tell Olivia."

"Perhaps." Cole grinned. "Then again, maybe I won't have to. Your plan for Margolin and Olivia wasn't the only thing I had learned at Nathalie's party."

"What do you mean?" Leo demanded.

Cole paused dramatically. "That's between me and Olivia, Leo. Enjoy yourself." He turned his back on Leo and returned to the bachelor party.

--------

Strains of Rod Stewart singing "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" filled P3. All eyes were focused on the muscular man gyrating on the stage. When ripped away a pair of white trousers, revealing a black thong underneath, whistles and screams filled the club. Even Barbara could not help but admire the man's . . . assets. Although Bruce could definitely give him competition.

The dancer completed his performance and the women broke into applause. The only person missing seemed to be the club's owner. Piper had disappeared into her office with baby Wyatt, once the stripper had appeared on stage. Sure enough, the applause died down, the stripper left the stage and Piper - with Wyatt in her arms - reappeared. "Is the show over?" she asked. The oldest Charmed One glanced at the stage. "Oh, I guess he is."

Nathalie Gleason heaved a mournful sigh. "Unfortunately." She turned to Olivia, who sat next to the bar with Mrs. Dubois. "Where did you find that guy, anyway?"

Olivia shrugged. "At some place called the Strobe Light Club. Apparently, he's very popular with the customers."

"Apparently?" Barbara replied knowingly.

"All right! I saw him there!" Olivia shot back. She glared at the blond woman. "You have to admit that he's not bad."

Nathalie snorted. "Not bad? Honey, he's more than just 'not bad'!"

A smile tugged at Mrs. Dubois' lips. "I don't know. I've seen better, myself."

"Oh!" Olivia's face lit up. "That dancer at the Hurricane Club on Bourbon Street! I remember him."

Mrs. Dubois heaved a heartfelt sigh. "Yeah, so do I."

Looking somewhat dubious, Nathalie replied, "Oh-kaay. Although I can't see anyone being better than Surfer Boy, up there."

"Uh, now that the entertainment is over," Piper said, cutting into the conversation, "is everyone ready for dessert?"

Detecting a familiar pressure on her bladder, Barbara said, "In a minute. I have to make a little trip to the Ladies Room." She slid off the bar stool and strode toward the bathroom.

After completing her tasks, a few minutes later, Barbara washed her hands and left the bathroom. She had not taken more than eight steps, when she collided with a burly figure. It was the stripper that Olivia had hired. Fully dressed, this time.

"Oh," she said, feeling a wave of heat flame her cheeks. "It's you. Excuse me."

The dancer responded with a dazzling smile. With those blond looks and smile, Nathalie had been right to nickname him, Surfer Boy. "Of course. I . . . uh, I hope that you enjoyed the show."

"Actually, I did. You were pretty . . ." Barbara halted in mid-sentence. The dancer's looks transformed right before her eyes. Blond hair became dark. Blue eyes now shone dark-brown. The wide face narrowed. And so did the body, which changed from broad and muscular to slim and wiry. "What the hell?" she cried.

Before Barbara could say anything further, those dark eyes became penetrating. Hypnotic. And the blond witch's mind slipped into oblivion.

--------

Claudia Della Scalla teleported into the middle of P3's narrow hallway. She saw her minion, Alessandro, holding a blond woman in his arms. "Excellent work, Sandro," she said. "Now, take her back to the house."

Alessandro hesitated. "I understand that you do not want her dead, Padronessa, but do I have to stay with her? I have not . . . eh, received my pay. Yet." His eyes cast downward. "And I have another dance to perform."

"And I look forward to seeing it." The older succubus's eyes swept appreciatively over her younger counterpart's body, causing the latter to blush. "Do not worry, Sandro. Just take her to the villa and return. The Streghone, Rosa and Giancarlo will look after her." Claudia added, "About the amulet I gave you . . . did it work? Or were the old lady and the Vodoun priestess able to sense your true identity?

Shaking his head, Alessandro replied that both telepaths had not detected him. "Nor had the Halliwell seer." A groan left his mouth. "Scusatemi Signorina, but may I leave now? The witch . . . she is getting heavy."

Claudia nodded. Alessandro sighed and disappeared with the witch in his arms. The succubus grabbed hold of the amulet around her neck and stared at it. After learning from Marcano about the three telepaths, she had invoked a spell around three amulets to block any telepathic activity toward her or her assistants. Satisfied by Alessandro's assurances that it worked, Claudia allowed her body to transform into another. She slipped into the Ladies' Room and checked her image in the mirror. A smug smile curled her lips. Perfect. She looked exactly like Barbara Bowen.

END OF ACT II - Part 3

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"

Act II - Part 2

"Debo . . ." Cole paused, while he listened to his client ramble on. "Yeah, Deb . . . Yes, I realize this must be disturbing for you." The voice on the other end of the telephone continued. "Uh, yeah. Look, Deborah . . . No! No, I don't think that will accomplish anything. It's obvious . . . Yeah, but didn't you just say that the police believe he had an accomplice?" He sighed, while Deborah Mann ranted and raved about the San Francisco Police and the County Sherriff's Department. "Look Deborah, suing them is not going to accomplish anything. Just give them a little time and I'm sure they'll catch Marcano."

Deborah Mann responded in a wavering voice, "Are you sure, Cole? What if . . . what if that monster decides to come after me?"

"I'm sure that he won't," Cole said in his most reassuring voice. "If he wanted to, he would have came after you before he was caught."

A long sigh filled the telephone's earpiece. "I guess you're right. But if the police doesn't capture that bastard by the following Monday," Cole's client said in a voice that suddenly hardened with resolve, "I'm suing their ass!"

"Of course, Deborah! I understand. Look, why don't you get some rest? Okay?"

A pause followed before she finally answered in a defeated voice, "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just this news . . ."

"I understand," Cole said gently. Then, "Bye Deborah. I'll talk to you, later."

"Good-bye Cole," Deborah replied. "And thanks." She hung up.

Cole hung up and heaved a large sigh. For the second time this week, he had to stop a client from making a big mistake. If Deborah Mann had gone ahead with her lawsuit, the circumstances surrounding Nick Marcano's escape would have made matters . . . difficult. For him, and especially for the McNeill family. According to Deborah, Darryl Morris had informed her that the police believed that Portia Della Scalla may have been responsible for the escape. If demonic forces were behind it, Cole surmised that the succubus' sister might be in town. And the idea of facing another succubus filled him with dread. He still harbored vague memories of Portia taking away his control through seductive promises, kisses, a pair of hypnotic sherry-brown eyes and a few other magical means. After being manipulated by Andras, Raynor, the Seer, the Source's essence, the Siren, Barbas and Portia, Cole hated the idea of facing someone else capable of assuming control over him on that level.

He needed a drink. Badly. Only Cole desired a cup of coffee. Just as he was about to buzz his assistant to fetch him a cup, her voice blasted from the intercom box. "Mr. Turner," she announced, "Ms. Altman would like to see you."

"Show her in," Cole replied. "And Eleanor, could you get me a cup of coffee? Milk and two sugars."

Seconds later, a tall, dark-haired woman with gray eyes and dressed in an expensive tailored suit, entered Cole's office. "Good afternoon, Mr. Turner," she greeted gaily. Veronica Altman happened to be one of Cole's fellow attorneys, who worked also worked in Jackman, Carter and Kline's Corporate Division.

"Veronica," Cole politely replied. "If I didn't know any better, I would say that you wanted something from me."

The other attorney's smile stretched into a wide grin. "As a matter of fact, I do. Remember that contract you had written for the Markham case, last December? You know, the one that got you the bonus from the Senior Partners?"

"Yes, I remember." Cole's eyes bored into Veronica's. "Why?"

A sigh left Veronica's mouth. "Because, I would like to see it. Borrow it. Use it as a template for this contract I have in mind."

Shaking his head, Cole could not help but smile. "In other words, you want to borrow my work to impress your client."

"You don't mind, do you?" Veronica gave him one of her patent innocent looks that have made her such a success in the courtroom.

Cole gave in. He really did not mind if Veronica wanted to copy his work. Besides, she happened to be one of the few people at Jackman, Carter and Kline with whom he was friendly. She was a pleasant, outgoing woman, who did not allow her own ambition to get in the way of friendship.

When Eleanor entered the office, carrying a cup of coffee, he asked her to fetch the Markham files. Once the assistant left, Veronica smiled at him. "Thanks Turner. You're a true friend. If you ever need a favor, just ask."

Favor. Cole then remembered his conversation with Andre, last night. The one about him finding a date for Bruce's wedding. Hmmmm. "Listen Veronica, there is a favor you can do for me."

Gray eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"How would you like to go to a wedding?"

Veronica paused. Confusion whirled in her eyes. "You want to take me . . . to a wedding? Me?" Again, she regarded him with suspicion. "Why? Is this some kind of date?"

"Well, no . . . uh, I mean . . ." Cole found himself in the undesirable position of being tongue-tied. He squirmed under Veronica's direct gaze. "What I meant was . . ." Hell, he might as well be truthful! "Yeah. Yeah, this is a date."

Veronica continued to stare at him. "Uh-huh. Well, I would accept . . . if I knew the reason behind this offer."

Now Cole did not know whether to feel insulted or embarrassed that he might have just been found out. So, he assumed an outraged expression and shot back, "What the hell? It's just an offer for a date! What the hell did you mean by that?"

"Cole?" Veronica's tone assumed one of a patient mother speaking to her child. "Now, you know that in the entire year you have been here . . . aside from those few months you were gone . . . not once have you ever expressed interest in me. Or I in you." She gave him another close scrutiny. "Why haven't you asked your friend, Olivia?"

"It's her brother's wedding."

Veronica shrugged. "So?"

Cole paused. "She's going to the wedding with someone else."

"Oh." Gray eyes widened with realization. "Oh!" Veronica declared. "Now, I understand. I heard that she was seen at Top-of-the-Marks with that new ADA from the East Coast. What's his name?"

Through clenched teeth, Cole murmured, "Paul Margolin."

"Oh yes," Veronica continued, nodding. "I've seen him at the Hall of Justice. Delicious."

Maintaining his temper, Cole snapped back, "Look, are you interested in going to the wedding? Or do you want me to arrange a date between you and Margolin?"

"I'd bet you'd like that," Veronica murmured.

Cole glared at his colleague. "Veronica?"

"Is this an attempt to get Olivia, jealous?" she asked shrewdly.

Realizing that he had lost of the game of deception, Cole sighed. Women. Or else he must be losing his touch. "Yes," he replied in a defeated voice. "If you must know, I'm . . ." Another sigh left his mouth. "Shit! I'm trying to get Olivia jealous. Yes."

"Thought so," Veronica shot back. "I could tell you two were interested in each other, as far back as February. Too bad you didn't realize this, back then."

"Veronica . . ." Cole's voice radiated strained patience.

She quickly spoke up. "I would love to go."

"Great!"

Veronica added, "By the way, if I meet someone I like at the wedding, consider yourself abandoned. Okay Turner?"

"Deal," Cole shot back.

Eleanor entered the office, carrying two thick files and a coffee mug. "Here you go, Ms. Altman," she said to Cole's colleague. Then she placed the mug on Cole's desk. "And your coffee, Mr. Turner."

"Thank you, Eleanor." Veronica flashed a smile at the legal assistant. Then she said to Cole, "See you on . . ."

"Saturday," Cole finished. "I'll pick you up around eleven."

"I'll be ready." Veronica turned on her heels and left the office. Eleanor followed closely.

The moment the door closed behind the two women, Cole leaned back against his leather chair and sighed. Satisfied that he had completed at least one task.

-------

Inside Carla Bianchi's North Beach home, Olivia consoled the older woman after delivering the news of Nick Marcano's escape. The Strega, who happened to be an old friend of Gweneth McNeill and Olivia's godmother, stared ahead, her face etched in deep anxiety. On the other side of her sat Michael Bianchi, Aunt Carla's oldest son.

"I can't believe it!" Carla declared in shocked tones. "Nick has escaped? And with the help of a daemon?"

Olivia nodded. "I'm afraid so, Aunt Carla. I wish that Darryl and I had come by earlier, but we had an investigation to do. Plus, we had to warn Bruce and Barbara."

"You think he's going to go after them, again?" Michael Bianchi demanded. He was a good-looking, stocky man around thirty-seven years-old. Just three years older than Bruce. Like Carla, he possessed penetrating black eyes, and thick dark brown hair. Only he merely displayed hints of gray near the sideburns.

Darryl, who had accompanied Olivia to the older woman's home, said, "It's a possibility. Considering his feelings for Barbara."

"I still can't believe that Nick had killed some newspaper columnist, plotted to kill Bruce and summoned a succubus!" Michael's voice tinged with dislike. "I mean, I knew the guy had a few screws loose, but good grief! Sometimes I wish that Aunt Nina had never married that jerk." Olivia knew to whom Michael referred. Nick's late father - Joseph Marcano.

Carla's eyes pinpointed her oldest son's with a hard stare. "Michael! You're talking about your cousin!"

"Look Mom, I know! But . . ."

With quiet intensity, Carla continued, "Your cousin may have committed a few mistakes, but he's a human being. A living being. And like all living beings, he is capable of following the wrong path." Michael's face turned red, as she paused and took a deep breath. "The question is . . . where is he now?"

Olivia shrugged. "I'm sorry, Aunt Carla, but we don't know. We believe that it was a daemon who had sprung him, but there was no way Nick could have summoned one without the proper tools. So there's the possibility. . ." She hesitated.

Both Carla and her son stared at Olivia. "Possibility of what?" Michael demanded.

Sighing, Olivia continued, "There's the possibility that another succubus may be responsible for Nick's escape." She paused. "It seems Portia Della Scalla has a sis . . ."

"Claudia." Carla's comment took both Olivia and Darryl by surprise.

Darryl demanded, "You've heard of this demon?"

Nodding Carla continued, "Yes. I've heard of the Della Scalla sisters." She turned to Olivia. "I'm surprised that you didn't ask me about the other sister - Portia. When Nick was first arrested."

"Considering that the two succubus come from another part of Italy, Aunt Carla, I'm surprised that you even knew about them," Olivia said.

With a shrug, Carla said, "My mother came from Venice. That's where she and Papa met. During the war. World War II. She used to tell me a lot of stories about the Della Scalla sisters. Especially since one of them - Portia - tried to seduce my grandfather, once."

Looking confused, Darryl said, "I don't understand. Why do you keep calling them by human names? Especially since they're supposed to be demons?"

"Because they're descended from a human," Michael replied. "Their grandfather."

Carla added, "He was a member of a noble Venetian family, who was seduced by their grandmother. Their child, an adamitici . . . or a wizard, took his father's name of Della Scalla. This wizard was the sisters' father. Portia, the younger sister, is the one whom Bruce had killed. She was smart, like her sister. Only . . . a bit rash. And she didn't stick with the coven."

A frowning Olivia asked, "What coven?"

"La Congrega de Della Scalla," Carla announced.

"The coven is named after them?"

Carla nodded. "Claudia, the oldest, founded it over 150 years ago. It mainly consists of other incubus, succubus and some low-level daemons."

Olivia dreaded asking the next question. "How big is this coven?"

A long stretch of silence followed, increasing Olivia's feeling of dread. Finally, Carla answered. "Very big. If she is behind Nick's escape . . . I only hope and pray that she will not come after Bruce or Barbara." In other words, the McNeill family had a major problem on their hands.

With forced brightness, Carla asked both Olivia and Darryl if they would each like a slice of tiramisu. Darryl immediately said yes. Olivia considered the added calories . . . and Cecile's reaction to a missed opportunity for a sample of the dessert. She sighed. "Sure. Why not? Could you also cut an extra slice for Cecile?"

--------------

Around ten, the following morning, Paige descended the staircase leading to P3, the nightclub owned by Piper. There, she found her older sister supervising workers for tonight's party. "Hey! What's up, Sis?" she greeted. "Need any help?"

Piper frowned at the younger witch. "I already have Cecile helping me. She and her boyfriend are due here, any minute. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"Nah, Barbara closed the shop for the day," Paige explained. "Wedding rehearsals."

"Well, aren't you supposed to be there?" Piper added. "After all, you're one of the bridesmaids."

Paige replied, "Rehearsals aren't until two, this afternoon. Olivia is a little busy this morning. You know, the escape."

Piper ordered one of her employees to inflate more balloons. "Oh. You mean that . . ." She glanced around uneasily, to ensure that no one was listening. ". . . that witch who's in love with Barbara?"

"Yeah, Nick. Everyone's in an uproar over it. Remember how Jason reacted, last night?"

Recalling the BAY-MIRROR owner's rant over the Nick Marcano escape, last night, Piper shuddered. "Remind me to wait a while before I consider inviting him to dinner again. At least until he cools down."

"I thought you liked Jason," Paige said, giving her a light punch on the shoulder.

Piper sighed. "I do. And I think he's good for Phoebe. Especially after Cole." From the corner of her eye, she noticed the slight frown on Paige's face. "But I just wish . . . God! I wish he could be a little more . . . subtle. And not so intimidating. Anyway, why are the McNeills in an uproar over . . . whats-his-name, Nick? The demon he had summoned is dead."

"She had a sister. Remember what Cole's friend, Riggerio, told us?"

"And they're not going to cancel the wedding?" Piper asked in a dubious voice.

Shrugging, Paige replied, "Barbara insists upon going ahead with the wedding. You should be happy. Olivia is paying you a nice amount for holding the bridal shower, here at P3." She paused. "Unless she has cancelled . . ."

"No, she hasn't," Piper said, interrupting. "Thank goodness. I can use the money."

Paige walked behind the bar. Piper watched, as she reached for a glass and filled it with tap water. "By the way, who have you hired for tonight's . . . entertainment?"

Piper's eyes narrowed, as she examined her sister. Despite the innocent expression on the latter's face, Piper could spot a hint of anticipation in those dark eyes. "If you must know, we'll be having a male stripper."

A broad smile creased Paige's lips.

"Olivia gave me a name," Piper continued. "Some guy named Lee Carver, who works at some place called the Strobe Light Club." From the corner of her eye, she saw one of her employees walk toward a stack of boxes. "I'm supposed to be calling him, tonight."

A noise heralded the arrival of two newcomers - Cecile Dubois, and a tall, black man with rich brown skin and a handsome regal face that had both Piper and Paige staring, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

"Hey guys!" Cecile greeted with a smile. "Where ya at?" She indicated her handsome companion with a tug at the arm. "I'd like y'all to meet a friend of mine. Andre Morrell."

Piper opened her mouth to speak, until she realized that not a sound had come out. She gave her head a small shake. "Hi," she said, clasping Andre's outstretched hand, "I'm Piper Halliwell."

He smiled. Radiantly. "Andre Morrell." His voice was deep. And rich. He turned to face Paige. "And you are?"

"Huh?" Piper jabbed her sister's side with her elbow. "Oh." Paige blinked. "Paige. Paige Matthews."

Confusion lit up Andre's brown eyes. Cecile added, "Paige is Piper and Phoebe's half sister."

"Oh." Andre nodded. "So, what do you want me to do?"

Certain thoughts entered Piper's mind, until she remembered that she was a married woman. "Oh . . . uh, could you and Cecile help decorate the place with balloons and streamers?"

"Sure thing," Cecile said. She grabbed Andre by the arm. "Let's go, cherie."

The two Charmed Ones watched the New Orleans couple walk over to the other employees. Their eyes remained fixed on the tall man, whose body radiated a lean, muscular frame. "My God!" Paige exclaimed. "Too bad he's not the male stripper."

"Paige!" Piper tried to sound outraged, but failed. She felt the same. Then she remembered. "Isn't he an old friend of Cole's?"

Paige nodded. "Yeah. They've known each other for nearly ten years. Apparently, Andre used to be a bokor. You know, like that guy who had possessed Darryl, last December."

"Figures," Piper muttered. "Great body and looks like a god. Like our former brother-in-law. Must be a requisite for the evil male. Thank goodness Leo is simply good-looking." She glanced around the club and frowned.

"What is it?" Paige asked.

Piper replied, "I don't know. What happened to that guy who was here?"

"What guy?"

Once more, Piper looked around. Maybe she had imagined things. "Nothing. It's nothing." And she and Paige returned to work.

END OF ACT II - Part 2

"CHARMED" RETROSPECT: (1.16) “Which Prue Is It Anyway?”

Most fans of ”CHARMED” seemed to harbor the opinion that the series’ early seasons are much better than episodes that aired during the series’ last four years. After viewing Season One’s ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?”, I can easily see how they managed to form that opinion. Mind you, I believe that this particular episode was not exactly the best of Season One. But it certainly seemed like a masterpiece in compare to most of the episodes from Seasons Four to Eight.

Penned by Javier Grillo-Marxuach, the episode began with Phoebe experiencing a premonition of Prue being stabbed to death by a man with a large sword. The Halliwell sisters discovered that their new enemy is a mortal named Gabriel Statler, a Lord of War. The sword renders Gabriel invulnerable to all mortal weapons and steals power. Gabriel is after Prue because one of the family’s ancestors, a Warren witch named Brianna had bested him during the Crimean War back in the 1850s. To become fully empowered again, he needs the power of a first-born witch. Prue is specifically targeted, because he also wants revenge against the Warren family. To protect herself, Prue used a spell to multiply her strength by three. Instead, the spell created two clones of Prue. Hence . . . the title.

As much as I enjoyed ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?”, I had problems with it. One, I found the humor behind Prue and Piper’s discovery of Phoebe’s martial arts lessons tacky and slightly racist toward those of Asian descent. The episode also featured a bad moment for Phoebe to showcase her new martial arts skills – which only featured kicking. During the sisters’ final encounter with Gabriel, Piper froze him so that Prue could kill him with his sword. Unfortunately, Phoebe chose that moment to kick Gabriel, causing Piper’s freeze upon Gabriel to end. Bad timing . . . eh? I am certain that Grillo-Marxuach had deliberately written the scene to unfold as it did. I just found it rather contrived.

Another problem I had turned out to be Gabriel’s motive for hunting Prue. As I had stated earlier, Gabriel wanted revenge against the Warren family line because one of the sisters’ ancestors – a great-great-something aunt named Briana – had managed to get the best of Gabriel during the Crimean War. The Warren family had been in America since the 17th century. What was Briana Warren doing on the peninsula of Crimea (which was under the Russian Empire in 1854-56) in the mid 19th century, in the first place? Also, Gabriel went after Prue, because the latter was the oldest sister . . . and the most powerful. Frankly, I found Gabriel’s reasoning rather limited. He could have acquired a lot more power if he had hunted all three sisters . . . one at a time.

But my main problem with ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?” centered around the main villain, Gabriel Statler. Mind you, Alex McArthur portrayed the character with great relish. The problem with Gabriel rested upon his characterization as a Lord of War and his motivation for going after Prue. According to the episode, Gabriel and his sister, Helena, are members of the Lords of War, a clan of supernatural warriors dedicated to war. The Lords of War are also mortals that have started most of Earth’s wars throughout history. Why? Who knows? But this description of the Lords of War illustrated a major irritation for me – humans’ tendency to use fantasy or science-fiction as an excuse to distance ourselves from our flaws or fuck-ups. In the case of ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?”, humanity’s responsibility for its penchant for aggression is blamed on supernatural beings. Even worse, Grillo-Marxuach had never explained why the Lords of War even bothered to start wars. Perhaps the audience was simply expected to believe that Gabriel and his kind want to start chaos because they are evil. If we were . . . I cannot buy it.

Despite its flaws, ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?” turned out to be a pretty damn good story. One of the consequences that resulted from Gabriel’s witch hunt resulted in the creation of the two Prue clones. This situation provided comedic gold for the episode. As stated earlier, Prue had cast a spell to triple her power and ended up inadvertently creating two clones of herself – a perky Prue (Pink Sweater) who possessed an overbearing manner masked by a cheerful demeanor; and a sensuous Prue (Blue Sweater) with an intense penchant for male attention. Both Prue clones provided some hilarious moments – especially with Pink Prue. But the two clones also provided moments of poignancy when the real Prue was forced to feel the pain that each clone experienced while being stabbed by Gabriel’s sword. The expression in Andy Trudeau’s eyes spoke a thousand words when the good police inspector discovered Pink Prue’s body in the city morgue.

I certainly found no fault in the performances featured in this episode. Holly Marie Combs and Alyssa Milano gave solid and humorous support as their characters (Piper and Phoebe Halliwell) dealt with Prue’s alter egos. T.W. King (a great favorite of mine) did an excellent job of conveying Andy’s grief over the death of Pink Prue and his suspicions that something was amiss with the Halliwells later in the episode. It was nice to see Bernie Kopell (”GET SMART” and ”THE LOVE BOAT”) as the city morgue’s sarcastic coroner. Both Alex McArthur and Shannon Sturges gave first-class performances as the evil Statler siblings – Gabriel and Helena. I also have to give them kudos for hinting an incestuous relationship between brother and sister without being too obvious. Apparently, they had failed to be a little more subtle for even Blue Prue managed to pick up on their incestuous vibe:

”And Gabriel has this weird binding passion for Helena. So, if we grab her we can use her as leverage. A sword for his sister.”

I also have to compliment McArthur for his exuberant portrayal of Gabriel. I may have found the character’s background as a Lord of War rather purile, but I cannot help but admire the energy that McArthur infused into the role.

One could not discuss ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?” without mentioning the woman of the hour – Shannen Doherty. Watching her in action reminded me of how much ”CHARMED” had benefitted from the actress’ presence during the series’ first three seasons. I would not call Doherty’s performance in this episode as her masterpiece, but I would certainly view it as one of her better performances during her three-year stay on ”CHARMED”. In ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?”, Doherty managed to portray three facets of Prue Halliwell. Not only did she portray Prue in all her complicated glory, she also had the opportunity to portray extreme aspects of Prue’s personality. In Doherty’s portrayal of Pink Prue, she revealed the domineering and perfectionist traits of the oldest Charmed One that must have been the bane Piper and Phoebe’s lives . . . and irritated Original Prue to no end. Doherty also got the chance to reveal Pink Prue’s traits with a humorous perkiness rarely shown in Original Prue. With Blue Prue, Doherty allowed her character’s sensuality to be unleashed with comic results at Quake – the restaurant where Piper worked during Season One. Considering how Doherty managed to nab these different nuances of Prue, it was not surprising to learn that she had earned two Saturn Awards for her portrayal of Prue.

I am almost inclined to rate ”Which Prue Is It Anyway?” as one of Season One’s best episodes. But due to the episode’s limited approach to Gabriel Statler’s villainous goals and the unsatisfying and one-dimensional description of his background as a Lord of War, I cannot give it that much credit. However, writer Javier Grillo-Marxuach did pen a well-paced episode filled with humor and pathos. The first-rate cast did his script justice with a solid cast that included an exuberant performance by guest star Alex McArthur and exceptional work by star Shannen Doherty.

 

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"

ACT II - Part 1

When he and his demonic savior materialized in the middle of an expensively furnished living room, Nick released a gust of breath. He glanced around, both impressed and apprehensive by his surroundings and asked, "Where are we?"

Dark brown eyes gave him a cold stare. "You will find out," he said in an Italian accent. Then he cried out, "Hello? Padronessa? Leonardo? We're here!"

A beautiful, dark-haired woman with familiar sherry-brown eyes descended the curved staircase. And aquamarine robe barely hid a statuesque figure that any woman would envy. Nick realized that she bore a strong resemblance to his former partner-in-crime, Portia Della Scalla. Same delicate features, same towering height and curvaceous figure; and the same eyes. Only this woman wore her luxuriant hair in a severe chignon. She also possessed a patrician air that Portia had lacked. Behind her, followed his new defense attorney - Leonard Mollari. Nick closed his eyes and heaved a despairing sigh.

"So," the woman said in a cool voice, "this is the Streghone who killed my sister."

Fear gripped every nerve in Nick's body. "Oh. Oh no! No, Signorina! I didn't kill anyone!"

One dark brow formed an arch. "Oh?"

"I mean . . ." Nick sighed. "Yes, I did kill someone. But it was a man, not who you think."

The woman took a step forward. "Exactly whom am I referring to?"

Nick hesitated. "Uh, Portia Della Scalla? She's a . . ."

"A succubus. I know." The woman stepped closer. "So am I. Portia was my younger sister." Cold eyes bored into Nick's. "If you did not kill my sister, who did?"

Nervously, Nick continued, "Um, mind you, I wasn't present when your sister was killed. I was being arrested at the time."

"Enough!" Portia's sister swept past Nick and the daemon guarding him. She settled upon a nearby sofa in a regal manner. "Sit down! I want you to tell me everything."

Nick waited for the minion to release him, before he eased into an empty chair near the sofa. Bumping his foot against a nearby table's leg. He darted uneasy glances at his hostess and her minions.

"Alessandro," the succubus said to Nick's rescuer, "get a glass of wine for Signor Marcano. The Rosso Villa Monticelli." While Alessandro headed for the liquor cabinet, Nick's hostess returned her gaze toward him. "Now, let us start from the beginning. First, my name . . . my human name is Claudia Della Scalla. I am Portia's older sister. As Leonardo must have told you, a seer had informed us that you were the one who had summoned my sister. The question is . . . why?"

Aware of the panic rising within him, Nick took a deep breath. He then told Signorina Della Scalla everything - his feelings toward Barbara Bowen, her engagement to Bruce McNeill and his reason for summoning the late and unlamented Portia. He also revealed the events that led to Portia's death. "Like I said," he continued, "I wasn't there when she was killed. But before I was sent off to jail, I found out that Bruce killed her. Bruce McNeill is the witch I wanted her to . . . well, you know . . ."

"Yes. Kill," Claudia declared bluntly. "So, some ridiculous little witch had killed my sister. A Wiccan." She gave Nick a hard stare. "Unless, you happened to be lying to me. To save your skin."

Nick drained the last of his wine. "Oh no! I'm telling you the truth! You can use a spell or something to find out. As for Bruce . . . well, he's a very powerful witch. And so is the rest of his family."

"I will simply kill this entire family. I'm sure that my coven will be able to deal with th. . ."

Exasperated by the succubus' arrogance, Nick bluntly interrupted her. "Your sister had believed the same thing and ended up getting killed! Besides . . . Bruce should be getting married this weekend. To Barbara. If you go after the McNeills, you might end up hurting her. And there is one more thing."

"What?" Claudia impatiently demanded.

Nick continued, "Belthazor." He noticed the ominous look that flared in Mollari's eyes. "The half-daemon, Belthazor. He's a very close friend of the family. And he's very powerful."

"He is telling the truth, Signorina," Mollari added. "I have heard of him. He was one of the Source's top assassins of the latter's reame."

The Streghone continued, "Belthazor also became the Source for a while, until the Charmed Ones killed him."

"The Charmed Ones?" Claudia frowned. "I have heard of them. Like the Cavalli family, only Wiccan?"

Nick nodded. "Yes. The youngest witch works at Barbara's shop and is a close friend of Bruce's sister. Anyway, after Belthazor was killed, he returned from the dead more powerful than ever. He's even more powerful than their Source. But not as powerful as Dis and Umbria, who are gods."

Claudia's sherry-brown eyes widened in surprise. "I see." She paused momentarily, while the other three stared at her. "I see that I may have to approach this with more subtlety." Her eyes bored into Nick's. "You say that you had promised my sister with a Soma plant, when you asked her to kill this witch for you?"

Once more, Nick nodded. "Yes, Signorina. The plant is inside the McNeills' greenhouse, at their home. It was given to Barbara by an old friend of hers, some three weeks ago."

"How clever of my sister," Claudia murmured. "She almost had her hands on a Soma plant . . . one that would make her a god. I wonder if she would have told me about it." Her eyes flashed at Nick. "And this Barbara . . . do you want her?"

"Well . . . yes. But she would never . . ."

The succubus dismissed his last words with a wave of her hand. "We'll deal with that later. This Signor McNeill . . . you say that he is getting married?"

Nick added, "This Saturday. "Why?"

Her eyes glittering maliciously, she responded with a slow smile. "Because, I believe we will be attending a wedding, this weekend. And hopefully, I will have in my hands a plant that will make me a goddess." She suddenly became businesslike. "Now, I want you to tell me everything about the McNeills, their acquaintances and whom you believe will be at the wedding."

---------

Andre and Cecile strolled along Chestnut Street, enjoying the early morning crowd that rushed past them and the shops along the street. His stomach growling from a lack of breakfast, Andre demanded that they stopped at a local coffee shop called Peet's Coffee and Tea. The pair entered and each ordered a cup of coffee and a pastry.

"Okay Cecile," Andre said after they settled around an available table, "is there a reason why you had me forgo a nice big breakfast with Cole and drag me out of the building?"

Cecile paused momentarily before she made her announcement. "I had a vision."

The cup in Andre's hand froze just an inch away from his lips. "Say that again?"

Her eyes focused on her boyfriend's, Cecile repeated herself. "I had a vision. A very bad one." She paused. "I met Olivia's new friend, last night. What's his name? Paul Something."

"Margolin," Andre corrected. "Cole told me about him. I heard that he and Livy may be more than just friends."

Shaking her head, Cecile replied, "God, I hope not."

"Meaning?" When Cecile failed to answer, Andre added, "C'mon girl! What could be so wrong about this vision? Is something gonna happen to this Margolin character?"

Cecile hesitated. "No . . . not him. But I think he may end up being responsible. The vision came to me when I shook his hand."

Andre took a sip of his coffee. "Look, why don't you just show me. Telepathically."

"Here?" Cecile glanced around the coffee shop.

"Why not? Or we can go to Olivia's apartment."

Cecile cried out, "No!" Her outburst drew stares from the other customers. "Not there. She hasn't left, yet. That's why I wanted to leave. I couldn't wait to tell you."

In other words, Cecile's vision had something to do with both Cole and Olivia. Andre frowned. "Show me. Right now."

"Okay." Giving the coffee shop another glance, Cecile ordered Andre to lean forward and close his eyes. She muttered a phrase in the Fon language over and over again. A minute later, the vision struck.

Andre saw Cole, Olivia and a strange man inside the penthouse. The stranger, whom he surmised must be Paul Margolin, stood by wearing a smug expression, while Cole and Olivia engaged in some kind of conversation. Then Olivia began to chant and a heptagon within a circle materialized around Cole's feet. Each side of the heptagon shot bolts of light at Cole, causing the half-daemon to scream. The red-haired witch continued her chant until Cole's body disintegrated into a burst of light.

The moment the vision ended, Andre gasped out loud, drawing more stares. Breathing heavily, he looked at Cecile in disbelief. "What the hell? I can't . . . Did I just see . . .?" He leaned forward and whispered, "Did I just see Olivia kill Cole?"

Cecile nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's impossible. Paige once told me about this sorcerer who had Cole's powers, last fall. Someone named Barbas. She and her sisters weren't able to kill him with the Power of Three. They had to return the powers back to Cole, first."

"So, how would Olivia be able . . .?" Andre paused. "If the Power of Three couldn't kill some guy with Cole's powers, how would Olivia be able to kill Cole?"

A grim Cecile replied, "I don't know. Maybe Olivia will find a way. You know, she once had a theory on how to kill the Source, but Leo didn't take it seriously. I'm worried about why she would kill Cole in the first place. And why would I get a vision like that shaking Paul Margolin's hand?"

Andre stared at his girlfriend with uneasy eyes. "Are you gonna tell her? Tell Livy?"

"Tell her what, Andre? That she's gonna kill Cole? And that her present boyfriend might have something to do with it?" Cecile rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding?"

"Listen cherie, you're gonna have to tell her, sooner or later."

Cecile took a sip of her hot chocolate. "I'd rather do it, later. Maybe after I talk to Mama and Livy's parents about it."

A heavy sigh left Andre's mouth. "Okay. It's your call. Man! I should have known something was gonna happen during this trip. I only hope that matters don't get any worse."

---------

Stunned by the news they had just received, Olivia and her partner, Darryl Morris, sat inside Captain McPherson's office, staring at the man with shocked eyes. Darryl became the first to find his voice. "Excuse me Captain," he said, "but you could repeat what you just said?"

The burly police captain viewed his lieutenant with sympathetic eyes. He sighed. Heavily. "I said that Nick Marcano has escaped from the County lockup at the Hall of Justice, last night. He simply . . . disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Olivia leaned forward. "How?"

McPherson continued, "We believe that a guard helped him escape." He glanced at the report on his desk. "According to one guard named Timothy Hamilton, another guard named Ben Jenoff had told him that one Keith Hardy had called in sick, and a temp named Reyes showed up. Only Hardy never called in sick. At least, according to Hamilton. He stopped by the cafeteria, while Hamilton reported for duty. Jenoff became suspicious and went to investigate."

"So it was this Jenoff who discovered that Marcano had escaped?" Darryl asked.

The captain shook his head. "No, it was Hamilton. He found Marcano missing and . . . Jenoff's body outside the cell. Burnt to a crisp. How, no one knows."

Olivia muttered under breath, "Oh great!"

"What was that, Inspector?" McPherson demanded.

"Nothing sir," Olivia responded morosely.

The captain nodded. "By the way, Hardy's body was also found." He paused dramatically. "Inside a closet, not far from the cafeteria. Also burnt. Now, how the perpetrator managed to achieve this without setting the whole damn building on fire is beyond me."

Darryl asked, "Exactly who is this guard? This Reyes?"

"No one knows," McPherson curtly replied. "He doesn't exist. At least not with the County Sheriff's Department." The police captain heaved a sigh. "This Reyes is probably someone who is mighty interested in Marcano. I can think of someone else who might be behind this escape. Marcano's accomplice in the DeWolfe murder is still alive. And missing."

Both Olivia and Darryl exchanged uneasy glances. They both knew better. "Uh, you mean this Della Scalla woman?" Darryl asked hesitantly.

McPherson nodded. "We need to find Marcano. Fast. This escape . . . it's a real embarrassment not only to the County Sheriff's Department, but to SFPD, as well."

"Um, does this mean . . .?" Olivia began. However, she immediately closed her mouth under McPherson's direct stare.

"Does this mean . . . what?"

Olivia's face grew hot with embarrassment. She shook her head. "I . . . there's a wedding in the family, this weekend. My older brother. Also, we have a few out-of-state guests. I was thinking if I could take part of today and tomorrow . . ."

McPherson's reply was curt. "No, you may not take some time off. I want both you and Morris working on this case, full time. At least until you're off duty. I'm sure that your brother would appreciate your efforts. Understand?"

A sigh left Olivia's mouth before she answered, "Yes sir." Shit!

"Dismissed."

The two partners stood up and left McPherson's office. Silently. Upon reaching their desks, Darryl finally broke the silence. "Well, I guess we better tell Bruce and Barbara the news."

"Along with Deborah Mann, Aunt Carla and Jason," Olivia added morosely. "Nick picked one hell of a time to escape. Three days before Bruce's wedding."

Sympathy filled Darryl's dark eyes. "Something tells me that Marcano had no choice in the timing." When Olivia reached for her telephone, he added, "Giving Bruce a call?"

"Yeah, I might as well. I'm going to ask him to meet with us at Ostera, so we can break the news to him and Barbara at the same time. They're not going to like this."

Something like a cross between a guffaw and a grunt escaped Darryl's mouth. "Huh. That's the understatement of the year."

--------

Two pairs of eyes - one blue and the other blue-gray - stared at the two police officers with disbelief. "Escaped? Nick Marcano has escaped?" Barbara said in a high-pitched voice.

It was lunchtime. Olivia and Darryl stood inside Ostera's storeroom, facing both the store's owner and her fiancé. Darryl nodded. "Yeah. Last night. He . . . uh, he disappeared from his cell. Along with the guard who helped him."

Olivia added, "Who might be a daemon."

Barbara looked away, distress marring her beautiful face. Bruce sighed. Long and hard. Of all the days for this to happen, he thought. He said out loud in a testy voice, "That's just great. Nick decides to escape just three days before my wedding."

Both Olivia and Darryl exchanged uneasy glances. "I don't think he had planned his escape," she added. "It's obvious that someone helped him. Remember the guard?"

"What about him?" Barbara demanded.

Olivia continued, "Well, this guard . . . might be associated with Portia Della Scalla. Or maybe even her sister."

Anxiety flitted within Bruce's chest. Memories of the succubus filled his mind. "Oh shit!"

Darryl frowned. "That . . . uh, she had a sister?"

"Yeah. Remember what Cole's old friend had told us?" Olivia replied. "He said . . ."

"Yes, thank you for reminding us!" Barbara curtly interrupted. "I was there, remember? I remember what that daemon had told us about Miss Della Scalla's sister. God!" She walked away from the others, her body trembling. "This is great! Bruce and I are supposed to be married the day after tomorrow, only we have Nick Marcano and maybe a vengeful succubus to worry about. I just knew something would happen to screw up everything!"

Bruce walked over to his fiancé and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Barbara, honey . . . Look, don't worry. I'm sure that nothing will happen before the wedding. Maybe Nick has already left San Francisco." He glanced at the two inspectors. "Has he?"

Darryl shook his head. "I doubt it. Look, Olivia and I have to get going. We have to break the news to a few others."

Olivia added, "Yeah, like the BAY-MIRROR." She sighed. "And Deborah Mann. I really don't look forward to her reaction."

Bruce nodded. "We understand. I'll see you two later, okay?" Without bothering to look at his sister and her partner, he gently forced Barbara to face him, and enveloped her into his arms.

END OF ACT II - Part 1

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"

ACT I - Part 2

Nick Marcano sat inside his cell, reading the latest issue of SAN FRANCISCO TODAY. The local weekly magazine, which featured stories about the city's entrepreneurs, high society and other local celebrities, usually did not appeal to him. But he was interested in this particular issue.

". . . years after the restaurant opened its doors, Gweneth McNeill stepped down as Executive Chef and handed over the position to her elder son, Bruce." Jealousy throbbed in the center of Nick's chest. His mouth formed a tight line, as he continued to read the article.

Bruce McNeill. The very mention of that name would send Nick into a state of boiling rage and resentment. Bruce McNeill, the handsome millionaire's son who had assumed control of his mother's famous restaurant . . . and stole the heart of the only woman Nick had ever loved. Because of Bruce's engagement to his Barbara, the Stregheria witch had summoned a succubus to seduce and kill the chef. Unfortunately for Nick, the scheme also involved killing a newspaper columnist who was supposed to interview Bruce. The chef ended up vanquishing the succubus, Nick killed the columnist and now faced charges of murder and attempted kidnapping.

A sigh left the prisoner's mouth. He allowed the magazine to slip from his fingers to the floor. A figure appeared before Nick. He glanced up at the uniformed guard that stood outside the cell. "What do you want, Brimmerman?" Nick growled.

The guard coolly shot back, "You have a visitor, Marcano. So, get your ass up. Now!"

Nick slowly rose from his bunk. He waited patiently, while Brimmerman opened the cell door. Seconds later, the guard led him out of the cellblock and toward one of the private interrogation rooms. Inside stood a tall, slender man with dark hair and eyes, and dressed in an expensive Armani suit. Nick frowned at the stranger. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

Smiling coolly, the stranger held out his hand to Nick. "My name is Leonard Mollari. I am your new attorney."

Nick sat down in one of the chairs. "What happened to Ms. Holtz?" He referred to his former court-appointed public defender.

Mr. Mollari shrugged. "I am not sure. I believe . . . she had some kind of family emergency and had to be removed from the case. But do not worry." He gave Nick a smile reminiscent of a hungry shark. "I will be able to defend you properly. Now, shall we discuss your case?"

Nick stared at the man. There was something about this attorney that made him uneasy. Perhaps it was the attorney's expensive suit, which seemed more appropriate for one who worked for a successful law firm, instead of a public defender. Or perhaps it was the man's formal speech pattern that seemed more suited to a foreigner who was educated in the States. Everything about the man seemed . . . odd. "Listen," Nick said, "I'm fine with Ms. Holtz. I'm sure that once her family emergency is over, she would be available."

"I doubt it very much," Mollari firmly replied. His dark eyes glittered dangerously. "So please, stop procrastinating and tell me about your case."

Despite Mollari's frightening aura, Nick felt reluctant to open up to the man. "Didn't you read my case file?" he asked petulantly.

"I want to know what happened from your own point of view." Mollari leaned forward. "Please cooperate, Mr. Marcano, and you will not face any further trouble. Now," he sat down in a chair, opposite Nick, "about this Portia Della Scalla . . . what do you know about her?"

Suspicion gleamed in the back of Nick's mind. "What about her?" he asked. "Why are you interested in her? Why not DeWolfe Mann? After all, I've been charged with his . . ."

"Mr. Marcano! I am in charge of your case. Not you! I suggest that you cooperate, unless you want to spend the rest of your life in prison!" Mollari leaned forward, his eyes glittering. "Now, did you kill her?"

Taken aback by the attorney's question, Nick hesitated. "N-No. No, I didn't."

Mollari shot back, "Who did?"

"Wha . . .? How did you . . .?" Nick shook his head, as if to clear his mind. "What makes you think she's dead?"

Dark eyes bored into Nick's. "Because," Mollari said in a soft voice, "a seer named Venusia DiSicca has named you as the one who had summoned Signorina Della Scalla."

He was a demon. Nick realized that his new public defender had to be a demon who, knew Portia Della Scalla. Genuine fear gripped him. "Who are you?" he whispered.

Mollari smiled. Coldly. "A valuable friend, if you cooperate." He now spoke with an Italian accent. "And your worst nightmare, if you do not. Do you understand?"

Nick closed his eyes and nodded. "Perfectly."

* * * *

Cole placed the cordless telephone on the receiver and heaved a sigh. He had just finished a difficult conversation with one of his clients - a wine grower named Mark Giovanni, who faced a real estate dispute with a small corporation trying to take possession of a vineyard in Santa Rosa County.

Growing impatient with the length of the case, Giovanni had asked Cole to meet with Cedric Lloyd, attorney for the Astar Corporation, to discuss some kind of settlement. Fortunately, Cole had managed to convince Giovanni that the Astar Corporation had no interest in settling. They wanted the land - pure and simple. Cole had just become aware of Lloyd approaching certain government officials to convince Giovanni into selling the land to Astar. When Giovanni heard this, he immediately changed his mind and decided to continue the dispute with Astar.

The door to one of the penthouse's bedrooms flew open and Andre entered the living room. "Who was that?" he asked.

Cole replied, "A client. One who was about to make a big mistake. So," he watched the other man plop down on the sofa, "what do you want to do, tonight?"

"Oh, I don't know." Andre heaved a sigh. "Cecile tells me that she and Olivia are going out to dinner, tonight. At some place called Neptune's at Pier 39. Seafood restaurant. My question is . . . why aren't we joining them?"

"Because we weren't invited," Cole shot back. "At least I wasn't."

Another sigh left Andre's mouth. "Okay. What about this place called P2? I heard it's one of the city's hottest nightclubs."

Cole corrected his friend. "It's called P3 and it's the type of nightclub that features music neither of us would appreciate."

"P3?"

"P3. Piper owns it. She named it after her sisters - the Power of Three."

Andre nodded. "Oh. That's right. She's your sister-in-law."

Once more, Cole corrected Andre. "Former sister-in-law. Since November 14, 2002. Over five months ago."

"Keeping count, huh?" Andre gave Cole a shrewd look. "Still thinking about the ex-wife?"

Cole sighed. "No, it's worse. Someone else."

"Oh. Olivia." Andre paused momentarily. "Is it true about her and this other witch? That they're seeing each other?"

A morose Cole answered, "I really don't know. Olivia and Margolin have been a bit close these past two or three weeks. But as far as Bruce and Harry know, they're not dating." He headed for the liquor cabinet. "Want a drink?"

"Actually, I want some food. Now." Andre shrugged his shoulders. "But, since you're going to offer me a drink, I'll have a glass of orange juice, if you got it."

"I don't. I do have some ginger ale."

Andre sighed. "I'll take it." Cole filled a glass of ginger ale for his guest. He handed the glass to Andre and returned to the liquor cabinet. Then he decided to pour himself a glass of the same, realizing that liquor on an empty stomach was not exactly wise. "About this new friend of Livy's . . ." Andre began.

"His name is Paul Margolin," Cole retorted. "What about him?"

Andre continued, "What's this guy like? Is he for real?"

Cole drained the last of his ginger ale, while longing for something stronger. "Unfortunately, more so than me. He's one of Leo's prized charges. I'm sure you've met Leo."

"Yeah, I have," Andre interjected. "Olivia's whitelighter. I bet he's thrilled about her new friend."

Cole snorted with derision and poured himself another glass of ginger ale. "More than thrilled." He glanced shrewdly at Andre. "What's your interest in Margolin?"

"I don't know. Cecile told me about him. She hasn't met him, either. And I'm curious as to why you and Olivia have been acting like strangers, around each other."

After a large gulp of ale, Cole said, "Well, you'll be meeting him at Bruce's bachelor party, day after tomorrow. Did Harry tell you where it'll be held?"

"Some place called Vornado," Andre replied.

Cole wondered if he had heard right. He gave his friend a hard look. "Vornado? Harry's holding the bachelor party there? At a demon-owned club?"

"Demon?" Andre blinked.

"Yeah, it's owned by our old friend, Riggerio. You remember him, don't you?"

Andre nodded. "I heard he had recently left Italy. I haven't seen him since Marseilles, seven years ago. He's here in San Francisco?

Cole told him about Nick Marcano's attempt to kill Bruce McNeill, using a succubus. And how Riggerio had provided information on the demon. "Fortunately, Marcano is behind bars, right now. And Portia Whatshername is dead, thanks to Bruce and Barbara. Unfortunately . . . I wasn't much help. That bitch managed to put me under her spell within seconds."

"I don't get it," Andre said with a frown. "I thought you were now too strong to be affected by someone else's powers."

With a sigh, Cole explained that he was. "Except, I'm not immune from any telepathic powers. Including Miss Della Scalla. Remember Barbas from last fall? He had the power of telepathic suggestion."

Andre shot back, "So do you. Why didn't you use it?"

Cole paused. Stared at his friend. He realized that Andre's suggestion had never occurred to him. "Well . . . I would have, except . . . hell, I don't know! I guess she took me by surprise, I didn't have time to respond."

"Well, the next time you come across a succubus or an incubus, I suggest that you use it."

"It might be sooner," Cole said. "According to Riggerio, "this Portia demon had a sister. An older sister, who might end up seeking revenge. Maybe I should have a talk with Riggerio, at the bachelor's party. By the way," his voice grew morose again, "Margolin will be there. At the party. I'm sure he'll be at the wedding, as well. As Olivia's date."

Andre asked, "What about you? Will you have a date?"

Cole frowned. "A date? Like who? Phoebe? She has a new boyfriend."

Rolling his eyes, Andre retorted, "Of course not, Phoebe! Man, what has gotten into you, lately? Are you losing it?"

"I'm not . . ." Cole heaved an exasperated sigh. "Well, who should I bring?"

Andre patiently replied, "I'm sure there someone in your office or somewhere else, who wouldn't mind being taken to a wedding. I mean, who cares, as long as you'll make Olivia jealous?"

Cole gave his friend a cool stare. "This isn't about making Olivia . . ." He sighed in defeat. "Okay, maybe I do want to make her jealous. But what if she doesn't?"

"C'mon man! I heard about what happened at Nathalie Gleason's party. Olivia told Cecile. Who told me."

A groan left Cole's mouth. "Oh God! Everything?"

"Yeah. Well," Andre shrugged, "pretty much everything. I heard about Olivia's reaction to some witch trying to hit on you. And her fight with Phoebe." Remembering what had occurred in Nathalie's bedroom, Cole realized that Olivia had not revealed everything. Andre continued, "Listen, once Olivia sees you with a date, I'm sure she'll be jealous."

Cole snorted with derision. "Or she'll put two and two together. She's not stupid."

"No, she's not." Andre gave Cole a knowing look. "But she'll certainly get the message."

* * * *

The two friends strolled along Pier 39, enjoying the lights from the various shops and restaurants, and the bustling crowd. Cecile walked over to the edge of the pier and gazed at the calm Pacific Ocean, beyond. Olivia immediately joined her. "You know, I forgot how beautiful the ocean can look."

"You live next to the Mississippi River," Olivia calmly replied. "It's easy to forget."

A slight snort left Cecile's mouth. "Yeah, but as much as I love that old river, it's pretty ugly. Especially in the daytime." She paused. "By the way, are you going to work, tomorrow? I have some last minute shopping to do, since I still haven't found the right present for Bruce and Barbara."

"Yes, I know," Olivia replied sharply. "You and your mother practically dragged me all over downtown San Francisco, this afternoon. What exactly are you looking for?"

Her eyes still fixed on the ocean's horizon, the Vodoun priestess replied, "Something perfect. I don't know. Hopefully, I'll find it, tomorrow." She turned to face Olivia. "You know, Andre wanted to join us for dinner, this evening."

"What stopped him?"

Cecile replied, "You. And Cole. Andre would have joined us, if Cole came along. And for some reason, you two didn't seem happy to be in each other's company, this afternoon. What's going on?"

A frown marred Olivia's expression. "Nothing. Nothing's going on. It's just that . . . well, I've been spending more time with Paul. And he and Cole seem to dislike each other."

"Gee, I wonder why," Cecile remarked, sarcastically.

Olivia glared at her, until her eyes grew round with surprise. "Look who's here?"

Cecile whirled around and saw a good-looking man of medium height approach the two. "Hello!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Paul! Hi!" A bright smile appeared on Olivia's face. "What are you doing here?"

Smiling, the newcomer replied, "Just out for a walk. After hitting the law books and files all day, I decided that I needed some fresh air. It's a good thing I ran into you. I just heard from Harry, a few hours ago. Apparently, he has extended me an invitation to Bruce's bachelor party."

"Really?" A pleased expression appeared on Olivia's face. "That's nice of him. I have to thank Harry."

Intense eyes fell upon Cecile. "By the way, who's your friend?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Olivia turned to Cecile. "Paul, this is my best friend, Cecile Dubois. She's a Vodoun priestess. Cecile, this is Paul Margolin. He's one of the city's new ADAs, a witch and one of Leo's charges."

Paul offered his hand to Cecile. "Nice to meet you."

"Same here," Cecile replied, as she grasped his hand and shook it. Within an instant, a series of disturbing images flitted through Cecile's mind. She gasped out loud and released her hand.

Both Olivia and Paul stared at the priestess. "Are you okay?" the former asked.

Cecile smiled wanly. "It's nothing. I . . . stubbed my toe." She lifted her left foot and rubbed her large toe. "On this damn pier. Should have known better than to wear these sandals."

Olivia continued to stare at her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine!" Cecile insisted. "Don't make a big deal out of it!" Squashing the horror of what she had witnessed, Cecile smiled at Paul and linked his arm with hers. "So, why don't you tell me about yourself? I'm a computer software designer." She led Paul further along the pier, with Olivia close at their heels.

* * * *

Ben Jenoff never cared for the afternoon-to-evening shift at the city's Criminal Courts building. As far as he was concerned, working between 3 o'clock in the afternoon and eleven at night, interfered with his social life and quality television viewing. He had submitted a request to change his working hours, but so far, no action had been taken.

The clock on the wall read 10:58 PM. He should be relieved by a new guard within the next two minutes, thank God. Today had seemed like a peek into his own personal hell. A fight between two prisoners had broken out in the Recreation Room. Ben had to sacrifice twenty of his lunch hour, thanks to another guard who had failed to relieve him on time. And now it looks as if Hardy will be late, as well.

Another five minutes passed. Ben grounded his teeth in frustration. Where in the hell was Hardy? When another three minutes went by, his patience finally ended. Screw this! He was leaving. If Hardy could not get his ass here on time . . . A uniformed figure appeared outside the office. Ben sprung to his feet and rushed outside. "Hardy?" he cried. A quick glance at the other man told Ben that he had been mistaken. Hardy happened to be a stocky black man with thinning hair. This man was tall, thin, dark-haired and white. "Who are you?" Ben asked, frowning.

The other guard smiled politely. "Reyes. I'm new."

"What happened to Hardy? Called in sick?"

Reyes responded with a shrug. "Who knows? All I know is that I was ordered to report here, tonight."

"Oh well. At least someone's here to relieve me." Ben reached down to pick up his duffel bag. "You can take over, now."

Reyes hesitated. "But . . ."

Before the other guard could finish, Ben bid his co-worker a quick "good night" and left the office. Just before he reached the elevator, Ben realized that he had left his ID card on the desk, behind. He turned on his heels and returned to the guards' office.

"What the hell?" Ben glanced around the office that seemed to be missing one guard. "Son-of-a-bitch!" What in the hell happened to Reyes? He walked over to the monitors. Everything seemed secure. Normal.

Then a second guard entered the office. It was Hamilton and he seemed surprised to find Ben inside. "Hey Jenoff! What are you doing here? I thought your shift was over, by now."

"It will be," a grim Ben shot back, "as soon as I find Reyes."

Hamilton blinked. "Who?"

"The new temp. Hardy had called in sick, tonight."

Another confused look from Hamilton followed. "What are you talking about? Hardy and I came in, together. We always do. You mean he hasn't shown up, yet?"

An uneasy suspicion niggled in the back of Ben's mind. He dropped his bag and rushed out of the office, ignoring Hamilton's cries.

Minutes later, Ben found himself walking furiously past rows of cells. He soon came upon one cell that housed a prisoner named Marcano. Ben glanced past the bars and was surprised to find Reyes inside. "What the hell?" he declared. "What are you doing with that prisoner? And who in the hell are you?"

To Ben's surprise, dark-brown eyes belonging to Reyes suddenly turned red. It turned out to be the last thing he would ever see. Searing red-hot heat enveloped his entire body . . . before everything faded to black.

END OF ACT 1 - Part 2

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS

RATING: [PG-13]
SUMMARY: A Wiccan wedding is invaded by a succubus and a witch, bent on revenge. Sequel to "Obssession".
FEEDBACK: cancerjones1941@yahoo.com - Be my guest. But please, be kind.

DISCLAIMER: Cole Turner, Darryl Morris, Leo Wyatt and the Charmed Ones and other characters are related to Charmed to Spelling Productions, Brad Kern and Constance Burge. The McNeills and a few other characters are my own creation.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: To understand certain parts of this story, please read "A Day in the Life of Paige Matthews", "Obssession" and "Whatever You Desire"

"A WEDDING IN FOUR ACTS"

ACT I - Part 1

A tall, well-dressed man strolled across the terrace that overlooked the blue Mediterranean Sea. He paused beside one of the lounge chairs and kneeled down to speak to a dark-haired woman, sipping a glass of Sangria. "Padronessa," he murmured to her, "I finally have the news that you require."

The glass hovered less than an inch from the woman's lips. "Tell me," she ordered.

"I have discovered the name of the Streghore who had summoned your sister."

Disbelief radiated from the woman's voice. "A Streghore? It was a witch who had summoned Portia?"

The man, who happened to be a low-level daemon named Leonardo, trembled with fear. "Si, Padronessa. A Streghore named Nichola Marcano. I learned this from the seer, Venusia. This Marcano witch had summoned your sister, nearly a month ago. For what reason, I do not know."

"For sex, of course," Claudia Della Scalla retorted. "What else? This Streghore was probably desperate for sex and summoned Portia. After they had sex, he vanquished her before she could kill him. Simple." Her expression hardened. "Only he had vanquished the wrong succubus. Where can I find him?"

Leonardo replied, "San Francisco, California. Only . . ." he hesitated.

Claudia heaved a frustrated sigh. "Only what?"

"After Venusia gave me the name of the Streghore, I discovered a few things about him. For example, he was arrested by the authorities for murder and attempting kidnapping. He is now incarcerated in the local jail."

The news took the beautiful succubus by surprise. "He is in jail for murder? Hmmm, this witch sounds very promising. It is a shame I will have to kill him."

Doubt glimmered in Leonardo's eyes. "Before you do, Padronessa, perhaps you should talk to the witch. Find out what really happened. Something tells me that your sister may have been involved in his crimes."

Claudia nodded. "Good idea. Meanwhile, have Gia pack my belongings. We are off to San Francisco."

"We?" Leonardo hesitated. "Shall I inform the other members of the boschetto?"

The succubus took another sip of her Sangria. "No, I will only need you and Giancarlo to get this Streghore for me. Once I am rid of him, perhaps we can remain in San Francisco for a few days. It has always been one of my favorite cities."

Leonardo rose to his feet, bowed and marched back to the villa. Heaving a satisfied sigh, Claudia returned her attention to her drink and the view, beyond.

* * * *

Cecile Dubois glanced at the grandfather clock standing in one corner of the living room, inside her Garden District house. It read five-eighteen. "Where is he?" she demanded, glancing at her handsome boyfriend. "He's late."

"Only by eighteen minutes," Andre Morell protested. "C'mon, cherie! Be patient. It's not like we have a plane to catch."

The third person inside the room grumbled, "Considering that he hasn't even shown up yet, I'm beginning to think that we should catch a plane." At fifty-five years old, Vivian Reyes Dubois had maintained her good looks and vitality. She and her daughter shared the same bronze-colored skin, high cheekbones, dark eyes reminiscent of ancient Egyptians and diminutive form. "I wonder if there's a plane available for San Francisco, in the next hour or two."

Andre demanded, "Why are you in such a hurry? Once Cole gets here, it should take us at least a second to arrive."

"Because I plan to do a little shopping."

Cecile added, "So do I. Olivia told me about a sale going on at Macy's."

A sigh left Andre's mouth. "Shopping? We're going to San Francisco for a wedding, and all you can think about is shopping? I thought you two had already bought wedding gifts."

Vivian rolled her eyes in disgust. "You don't understand women very much, do you boy?"

Before Andre could reply, a tall figure clad in a dark business suit, materialized in the middle of the living room. Cecile sighed with relief. Andre rushed forward to greet the newcomer with a bear hug. "Cole! Glad you could finally make it, man!" he said cheerfully. "We were beginning to get a little worried."

"We were more than beginning to worry," Cecile added caustically. "Another twenty minutes and we would have ended up going to the airport." She walked toward him and pecked his cheek.

Cole graced the Vodoun priestess with a charming smile. "And it's good to see you too, Ms. Dubois." He returned her kiss with one of his own. Then he turned to Cecile's mother. "Mrs. Dubois. It's good to see you."

"Nice to see you again, Cole," Vivian responded. "Now, what took you so long?"

A heavy sigh left Cole's mouth. "I'm sorry that I'm late, but the Senior Partners' staff meeting took longer than I had expected. Is everyone ready?" He glanced at the pile of luggage near the fireplace. "Oh, I guess so."

The others gathered around the half-daemon. "Is this going to take long?" Cecile's mother asked, uneasily. "I've never teleported, before."

"Don't worry Mama," Cecile reassured the older woman. "Like Andre said, it'll be over within a second." Sure enough, the four people disappeared from the New Orleans house and reappeared in the middle of the McNeill foyer, a second later.

Vivian released a gust of breath. Then she glanced around and frowned. "Is that it?" she demanded. "What happened to our luggage?" No sooner had she spoken, the Dubois and Andre's belongings materialized.

The McNeills' manservant, Davies, appeared in the foyer. "Oh, I see that you've all arrived."

"Afternoon Davies," Cole greeted. "I finally got them here. You can tell both Mrs. McNeill and the others."

Nodding, Davies replied, "Yes sir. Mr. Morell, Mrs. Dubois and Miss Dubois, it's good to see you, again. If you will all follow me, I will take you to the others in the drawing-room. Carmen and Liam will take care of your luggage."

"Leave my baggage in here, Davies," Andre said. "I'll be leaving with Cole."

Cecile added that she will be leaving with Olivia. "That is after she gets here."

"Miss Olivia is in the drawing-room with the others," Davies announced.

Cole frowned. "She's here?" He glanced at his watch. "This early?"

"Yes sir." Davies led the quartet toward the drawing-room. "Miss Olivia is here, along with both Mrs. McNeills and Mr. Bruce."

Vivian murmured to her daughter, "Why is it that every time I'm around that man, I feel as if I'm in the middle of a Merchant-Ivory movie and I'm about to meet Helena Bonham-Carter?"

"You and me both," Cecile shot back.

The manservant opened the drawing-room's double doors and ushered the visitors inside. They found both Elise and Gweneth McNeill observing the other two McNeills engage in a heated conversation. "Why are you asking me, Livy?" Bruce McNeill was saying. "Harry's the one who is planning this party."

Bruce's red-haired sister replied, "Because Harry told me to ask you. After all, it's your bachelor party."

"Okay. Then the answer is no," Bruce answered coolly.

"Bruce!"

Davies interrupted the conversation with a slight cough. "Excuse me, but the Dubois, Mr. Morell and Mr. Turner are all here."

The McNeills' attention became riveted upon the visitors. Gweneth McNeill let out a cry of delight. "Well, look who's here! Vi, darling! How are you?" She rushed forward to envelop Cecile's mother into a bear hug.

Cecile found herself being hugged by Olivia. Soon, everyone - sans Cole and Davies - were exchanging hugs, kisses and handshakes. The younger Mrs. McNeill then turned to Cole and thanked him for giving the visitors from New Orleans a supernatural lift.

"No problem at all," Cole replied genially. He shot a quick glance at Olivia, who immediately looked away. Much to Cecile's surprise. "Unfortunately, I was a little late. The meeting at the firm ended a bit later than I had expected." He turned to face both Olivia and Bruce. "Don't let me stop you, two. What were you talking about?"

Bruce replied, "My bachelor party. It seems Olivia wants me to add a certain someone to the guest list."

"That certain someone is Paul," Olivia retorted, glaring at her older brother.

"And I said . . . no."

Cecile asked, "Is this that attorney, who happens to be a witch? One of Leo's charges?"

Cole rolled his eyes. "Oh. Him. He's going to be at the bachelor party?"

Olivia diverted her glare to Cole "And what exactly, is wrong with . . . him?"

"Well, for one thing, he's a bore," Bruce replied. Both Cole and Andre snickered.

Green eyes now focused upon Cecile's significant other half. "Gee Andre, I didn't realize that you knew Paul."

"Uh, I don't," Andre said. "I just . . . heard . . ." Cecile surreptiously squeezed his arm. "Never mind."

Vivian piped up, "Does anyone know what time the department stores close in this town? I need to do some last minute shopping."

"Macy's should be open until nine, tonight," old Mrs. McNeill replied. "Perhaps Davies can drive you over . . ."

Olivia cut in. "I'll take her. I have some shopping to do, myself."

"And I'm going with you," Cecile added.

"Okay." Olivia paused and glanced at Bruce. "What about Paul?"

Bruce sighed. "What about him?"

Impatience radiated from Olivia's eyes. "The bachelor's party. Is it okay for Harry to invite him?"

Rolling his eyes, the oldest McNeill sibling coolly replied, "Let me think about it."

"Think about it fast, huh Bruce? The bachelor party is in two days." Olivia nodded at both Cecile and Vivian. "Ready ladies?" She started toward the doorway. Daughter and mother followed. As the former glanced behind her, she noticed the pained expression on Cole's face. Interesting.

* * * *

Piper picked up a stainless steel saucepan and held it up in front of her husband's eyes. "What about this?" she asked. "Would this do?"

The oldest Charmed One and her whitelighter husband stood in the middle of the Appliance Department, inside Macy's department store. Leo shook his head in dismay. "A saucepan? Piper, we're shopping for a wedding gift, not a housewarming party!"

"What's wrong with a saucepan?" Piper protested. "Maybe Bruce and Barbara will like it. He's a chef, after all."

An exasperated sigh left Leo's mouth. "Don't you think we should get them something with a little more class? Like silver, for instance."

"Too expensive," Piper curtly replied.

Leo shot back, "Piper, you own a nightclub that's . . ."

". . . that has been losing a little business, ever since Wyatt was born."

Undaunted, Leo continued, "But we still have enough money. And I've been earning a few bucks with some carpentry jobs on the side."

"Leo . . ."

"C'mon Piper. I don't want to give Bruce and Barbara a . . . saucepan." Leo paused, as he squirmed with discomfort. "I mean he's a friend and one of my former charges."

Rolling her eyes, Piper replied caustically, "Then why did we receive our wedding invitations at least a week after Paige had received hers? Can you explain that?"

"What is there to explain?" Leo protested. "Our invitations probably got lost in the mail."

Again, Piper rolled her eyes. "If that's what you want to believe, Leo, go ahead. It seems obvious to me that Bruce and Barbara only wanted to invite Paige. So, I see no reason why I should spend my money on something better than a saucepan."

"Look, maybe you're right. Maybe Bruce didn't want us at the wedding. Can you blame him?"

Piper blinked. Had she heard right? "Excuse me?"

"Well, we didn't invite him, Olivia or Harry to our wedding. And aside from you and your sisters, they're the only friends I have here in San Francisco. It even took them a while to forgive me for not inviting them."

With a scoff, Piper replied, "Well, at least you now believe me that we were excluded from the guest list."

"Piper! Please!" Leo pleaded. "Let's just buy something better than a saucepan. Okay?"

Piper opened her mouth for a retort, when three women appeared. She recognized Olivia McNeill and the latter's friend from New Orleans, whom she remembered from last December. The third woman seemed to be an older version of Olivia's friend. "Leo!" Olivia greeted cheerfully. "And Piper. Fancy meeting you two, here. Shopping for wedding gifts?"

"Uh," Leo began, hesitating, "yeah. We, uh . . . didn't have much time for shopping. Until today."

Olivia's smile widened. Piper began to wonder if she was mocking them. "Well, that's nice. By the way, I'm sure that both of you remember Cecile Dubois. She's here for the wedding." Both Piper and Leo nodded at the Vodoun priestess, who returned their nods. "And this," Olivia continued, "is Vivian Dubois, Cecile's mom. She's also a close friend of my mother's."

Piper smiled politely at the older woman. "Nice to meet you. Are you a Voodoo . . ." She saw Leo grimace from the corner of her eye. "I mean, a Vodoun priestess also, Mrs. Dubois?"

"Yes, I am," the older woman replied. "Both Cecile and I hold the title of Mami."

What the hell "Mami?"

Cecile spoke up. "That's the title for all women who are priestesses."

Leo asked, "Do you have a power like Cecile?"

Mrs. Dubois frowned. "Sorry?"

Again, Cecile explained, "He wants to know if you have a psychic ability, Mama. Like my telepathy and visions."

"Oh." Mrs. Dubois nodded. "I suppose I do. I'm a metamorph. What you would call a shapeshifter."

Olivia added, "Like Bruce and Dad, only Mrs. Dubois can morph into anything - other people, animals, plants and any other object."

"Like Cole," Piper added. "Or a chameleon demon." Everyone stared at her. "My sisters and I had an encounter with one, nearly two years ago."

The older woman wore a confused expression. "I share a power with a demon? There's a spirit out there that changes form?"

Now it was Piper and Leo's turn to look confused. "Huh?" the Charmed One asked. "What do you mean by spirit?"

A salesgirl appeared. "Excuse me, miss." All talk of the supernatural and magic ceased between the five people. The salesgirl continued, "Do you need any help with that saucepan?"

"Huh?" Piper glanced at the object in her hand. She also noticed the others staring at it, as well. Especially Olivia. "Oh, um do you know where I can find some candlesticks?" she asked lamely. "Preferably silver ones?"

END OF ACT I - Part 1

Yesterday marked the 10th anniversary in which the "CHARMED" episode, "Wicca Envy" first aired.  Directed by Mel Damski, the episode was written by Sheryl J. Anderson and Brad Kern and featured the last appearance of the continuing villains - 'Rex Buckland' and 'Hannah Webster':

 

"CHARMED" (1.10 "Wicca Envy") 10th Anniversary Gallery

 

 

"CHARMED" RETROSPECTIVE: ”The Death of Dr. Williamson”

I just recently finished watching the Season Two episode from ”CHARMED”, (2.20) "Astral Monkey" . There were some things that were said in this episode that really pissed me off. And all of my complaints centered upon the character, Dr. Curtis Williamson.

Curtis Williamson first appeared in an earlier episode, (2.12) ”Awakened”. In this episode, Piper became infected with a deadly disease called Arroyo Fever, after eating some South American fruit she had purchased to serve at her club, P3. After her sisters and later Leo had both cured her using magic, Williamson became obsessed in discovering the reason behind Piper’s miraculous recovery from a disease that had no cure.

In ”Astral Monkey”, Williamson’s obsession not led him to continuously contact Piper by letter, but use the Halliwells’ blood drawn by the doctor in ”Awakened” to experiment on a trio of monkeys kept in his lab. Eventually, the Halliwells and Leo learned about Dr. Williamson’s experiments when the monkey with Prue’s abilities, astral projected to the manor. Piper, Prue and Phoebe went to the hospital to examine Dr. Williamson’s laboratory and Leo consulted the Elders . . . after they discovered that the Charmed Ones’ blood had been accidentally injected into Dr. Williamson and he ended up with their abilities. The following is what Leo had to say on the matter:

Piper: So what's the bad news?

Leo: Well, simply put, Dr. Williamson is cosmically screwed. He's got your powers in his mortal body. It took generations to prepare you for that, you can handle it, he can't.

Mortal body? Once again, the audience are led to believe that the Halliwells are not mortals. And yet, the series has proven over again that they were mortals. This point was specifically made in the Season Three episode, "All Hell Breaks Loose", when Piper died from a gunshot wound in the first timeline before the demon Tempus changed it on behalf of the Source and the whitelighter Elders.

However, the following comment made by Leo really pissed me off:

Phoebe: Wait, are you saying that out powers are in our blood and he injected himself with it?

Leo: That blood, yeah. See, the spell that you cast to cure Piper changed everything and now it's changing Dr. Williamson. See, your magic is meant for doing good but in the wrong person, somebody not ready for it, that need to do good things...

Piper: Could go bad?

Leo: Real bad. Piper, it's nobody's fault. Dr. Williamson chose his own path. This is not the consequence of anybody's actions except his own. Still, you have to find a way to stop him before things get worse.

One, Leo had claimed that the spell Prue and Phoebe had cast to cure Piper in ”Awakened” was partly responsible for the Halliwells' abilities affecting Dr. Williamson. But it got worse. Then he further claimed that none of them - Piper, Prue and Phoebe, and he - were not responsible for Williamson’s abuse of their abilities and the latter’s effect upon him. Only Williamson was to blame.

Leo . . . Let me take a deep breath, here. Constance Burge, who wrote ”Astral Monkey”, really got the whitelighter’s character down pat in this episode. It seemed quite obvious – at least to me – that Leo’s feelings for Piper have constantly led him to spout stupid lies in order to placate any negative feelings she might be experiencing. In ”Astral Monkey”, she felt guilt for failing to respond to his letters about her recovery from Arroyo Fever . . . and because he was a mortal that she and her sisters had to kill.

After listening to Leo’s attempt to solely blame Williamson over the entire incident, I still find it amazing how fans continue to condemn Brad Kern for some of the series' bad writing, when Burge was also responsible for the crap that popped up during her tenure as executive producer of ”CHARMED”. And I am condemning Burge for an act that Kern consistently committed in the series’ future – namely give the Halliwells slack for some of their questionable actions in both ”Awakened” and ”Astral Monkey”.

I am quite certain that Curtis Williamson had been partially responsible for what happened. After all, he became obsessed with finding the source of Piper's "miraculous" cure from Arroyo Fever in "Awakened". Even the hospital’s Chief of Staff, Dr. Jeffries, warned him to allow the matter to drop. But the Halliwells and Leo should have accepted some of the blame over the entire situation. And Burge refused to allow this to happen in her script. Back in ”Awakened”, Prue and Phoebe used magic to cure Piper’s fever, when they should not have done so in the first place. After the pair reversed the spell and Piper fell ill for the second time, Leo stepped in and cured her . . . when he should not have done so. Because of Prue, Phoebe and Leo’s actions, Piper managed to avoid facing the consequences of her actions. And it was Piper who had started this whole mess in motion when she became greedy and decided to purchase South American fruit that had not been inspected by U.S. Customs.

It had been bad enough when Vivian and Valerie Mayhew’s script for ”Awakened” had failed to allow Piper face any legal ramifications from the U.S. government for her act of greed. After all, the episode never mentioned any legal fines and P3 had only been closed for a day . . . before Leo cured her. But in the story for ”Astral Monkey”, Constance Burge had failed to bring up all of the Halliwells and Leo’s past transgressions. Instead, she decided to lay all of the blame on Williamson's shoulders. Prue and Phoebe did not even seem the worse for wear following Williamson's death at the end of the episode. As for Piper, she only felt guilty for not being able to save Williamson and for failing to respond to his letters in the first place. Not once did the episode’s script allow Piper to express any guilt for allowing her greed in ”Awakened” to set everything in motion.

For two episodes considered to among the best by the series’ fans, I find it interesting that both managed to fill me with disgust from its portrayals of the main characters. Even worse, the only character who ended up facing consequences from questionable choices happened to be one portrayed by a guest star. And I find it ironic that I have Constance Burge, and not the much maligned Brad Kern, to blame.