The television show "Charmed" and all of its characters are copyrighted by Spelling Television, Inc., a subsidiary of Spelling Entertainment Group, Inc.

DON'T forget to read the Author's Note at the beginning of the first chapter, if you skipped over it before!

"Sure."

"If – Will you promise me that you'll never tell Piper and Phoebe about, you know, what I told you?"

"You've still never told them?"

"No. If I can avoid it, I never will. I don't know how to explain it, Paige. But with our mom dying when we were so young, even with our grandmother there, I sort of – helped raise them. I've been their protector for as long as I can remember. I know it's silly, but I just don't ever want them to know I was that weak. Ever."

"I don't think they'd think that you were weak. I think they'd know you were enormously strong, to pull yourself out of that and stay out. But of course it's not my place to tell them. I promise I won't."

"Ever. Not even if you and Phoebe get to be best friends, which I have a feeling you could."

"Not ever, even if it turns out that we're actually – long-lost cousins, or something."

"Thanks, Paige. That makes me feel better."

"Well, for all the times you've helped me – "

"I haven't done that much. I'm really sorry about that."

"Yes. You have. You don't know how many nights I've told myself the thing about everyone in the world being needed in the fight against evil and fear. You don't know how many times I looked at your card and thought, if it gets bad enough, I can call her. You just, you'll never know how many times."

Tears welled in Prue's eyes. And here came the models for the shoot. "I have to get to work," she said softly. "You use that card anytime you want. And I'll try to stay in better touch."

In fact, she called a month later, but Paige was heading out the door for a lesson in reading tarot cards, in which she'd recently developed an interest. Two months after that, Paige called her to remind her of the nine-month anniversary, and they both laughed at how crazy their schedules were. Just before they hung up Paige said, "And hey, in case you're worrying about it, I've remembered my promise about what you told me. They'll never know it from me. But I think you should tell them someday."

"Maybe someday. Call me if you need to."

"You too."

As Prue closed the phone, she chuckled a little. Paige's tone was the supportive one in this conversation. You'd never have known that could be the case, nine months ago.

A few days before the one-year anniversary Prue came into the kitchen after her morning walk and found Piper there making coffee.

"I'd like to have a friend over for dinner in a few days, and I kind of promised her a Piper Halliwell feast. Is that OK?"

"Sure. Anyone I know?"

"Damn it!" Phoebe stormed into the kitchen and slammed the newspaper down on the table. "There are times when I hate this!"

"You're up?" Prue gasped. "And you got the paper?"

"Good morning sunshine to you too," Phoebe said. "All I did was pick the thing up and got a double premonition. I have a life, you know!" she yelled in the direction of the ceiling.

"A double premonition? What was it?" Prue asked.

"A guy in a doctor's coat being attacked by a warlock. The warlock is sitting in an office like he's a patient, the doctor comes in, poof, athame in the chest. That was very clear – I could see the warlock's face, the clock on the wall, everything. Then, just as I thought I was pulling out of it, I had, like, a fragment of another premonition: the same doctor flying through the air, like something blew him or threw him. But there's no knife wound in his chest."

Piper had unrolled the paper and spread it out on the table. "Is this the doctor?"

She was pointing at one of the feel-good interviews that newspapers put on the front page sometimes to leaven the death and scandal. In the middle of the page was a picture of a man in a white coat standing beside a table full of lab equipment. He was looking slightly off camera, gesturing, as though explaining something to someone near the photographer. He looked smallish, balding, cocky, animated. The headline beneath the photo was:

Doctor finds research,

practice a good blend

"That's him," Phoebe said.

"He looks pleased with himself," Prue said.

"Apparently he has a right to." Piper had been scanning the story. "He practices medicine and does medical research. Darn few people do that."

"Anyway, he's attracted the wrong kind of attention for some reason," Prue said. "Could you see anything at all about the attacker in your second premonition?"

Phoebe shook her head. "Not even where it happened. Maybe they were in the wrong order? The warlock throws the doctor around before he kills him?"

"No, I don't think so," Prue said. "I think that if something stops the warlock from killing the doctor – "

" – like us – " Piper said –

" – something else more powerful, like a demon, is going to come after him. And if someone is ordering around both warlocks and demons on one mission – "

"The Source is behind it," Phoebe said.

Prue nodded. "You said there was a clock on the wall in the warlock premonition. Could you see the time?"

Phoebe closed her eyes, remembering. "Nine-thirty."

"Damn. It's 9:00 now." Prue looked up at the ceiling and yelled, "We have lives, you know!" Phoebe laughed.

"Maybe it was 9:30 at night?" Piper said hopefully.

"We can't take the chance," Prue said, taking the car keys off the rack on the kitchen wall as Phoebe moved into the hall. "If the Source is after this guy, we've got to get him back here where it's safe, ASAP. We've got pretty good writeups of the Source's favorite hit men in the Book of Shadows. If you can touch the doctor, Pheebs, you might get a better idea of which hit man gets the job after the warlock we're about to vanquish."

"It was weird," Phoebe said. "Like he was hit by a tornado."

"Tornado," Piper said thoughtfully, scooping her purse off the table in the front hall. "That sounds familiar. Oh, Prue, don't forget to call your friend and tell her to come on over."

Prue paused and reached into her purse as Phoebe opened the door and stepped out onto the porch.

Then Prue shook her head and kept walking. "I'll wait until we're sure our innocent's safe. If we're going to be hiding this guy from the Source's hit man, our house may not be the best place. Could be kind of disconcerting for her if a demon pops up during dinner."

"Of course, maybe she's got great aim with a steak knife," Piper said, blinking at the morning sun.

Prue laughed as she locked the door. "You never know," she said.

The three hurried down the front steps, hoping they'd be in time to save Dr. Griffiths.