Charmed Role Reversal

It's a Charmed Life

Prue and Piper were in the kitchen the next morning preparing breakfast when Phoebe came bounding down the stairs.

"Good morning, good morning, good morning," Phoebe cheerily announced. She went right past Prue who was preparing some eggs, grabbed the piece of toast out of Piper's hand and kept going straight towards the pantry.

Piper's other hand which held a knife with a smear of jam on it, now having nowhere to go, remained motionless in mid-air. She half-opened her mouth to say something but instead glanced at Prue, who tried to stifle a chuckle.

"I am starving, absolutely, totally starving," Phoebe said, as she started going through the pantry's contents.

"Hmmm...can’t imagine what could possibly have happened during the night that left you so hungry," Piper said, feigning innocence.

"You know, I'm starting to get used to being a witch," Phoebe said. "It has it's advantages. Not all of my premonitions are about bad things. Some are about really good things. And it's nice, after looking forward to them, when they finally happen."

"Anything you care to share with us?" Piper asked, as she gave Prue a look.

"No!" Phoebe said. Her voice slightly rising with her clipped response made it clear that discussion of this subject had ended. "Stuart is going to take me around today to see San Francisco. We'll take a walk over the Golden Gate Bridge, then we're going to-"

"Uh, may I remind you," Prue interrupted her, "that we still have demons that we have to stop before they destroy some or all of the world - at least as we knew it - in the next seven weeks. And we don't know who they are, what they plan to do nor how to find them."

"Yes, I know," Phoebe said casually, as she took a package of muffins from the shelf. "Stuart and I will set aside some time to vanquish them, if you find them."

Prue just shrugged her shoulders in resigned exasperation. Alyssa had truly become Phoebe, with all her quirkiness, she thought.

Piper took another piece of bread out of the package and put it in the toaster.  "What are you doing today, Prue?"

"When I dropped off my pictures of Tori at Four One Five magazine yesterday," she said, "they gave me a new assignment. To photograph Davis Rolfe."

"Who's he?"  Piper asked.

"He's the author of two books on the occult," Prue answered. "Not world famous but he has a growing, dedicated readership.  He recently moved to San Francisco so the magazine wants to feature him.

"I have an appointment with him on Monday.  I'm going over to the library this morning and take out his books.  I want to read up on him before I go for the shoot.

"But first," Prue continued, "I'm going to look through The Book Of Shadows and see if there's anything that will help us find those demons.”

The toast popped and Piper lifted it from the slot and put it on her plate.

"Good morning," Stuart said as he came into the kitchen.  "Hmm...I am-"

"Starving.  I know," Piper said, handing him her plate with the toast, a look of frustration on her face.

"Uh...have I missed something?" he asked.

"Piper has developed a new power," Prue said.  "She can now read minds."

"Oh," Stuart said, confused.  He decided to let it go at that and sat down at the table with his toast as Piper gave Prue a look.

"What are your plans, Piper?"  Prue asked.

"I think I'll go down to the club," she said, putting a slice of bread in the toaster for the third time. "Friday nights are busy nights at clubs and I wasn't there last night.  They're probably wondering where I was.  Besides, there must be things I have to prepare for tonight."

"They probably didn't notice that you weren't there," Stuart said, biting into the jam covered toast.  "You do tend to disappear from there quite often on Charmed so it must be the same way here."

"Thank you for telling me that I'm not needed," she said, squinting at him.

Piper took another plate as the toaster popped, lifted out the toast and put it on the plate.


Piper looked down and saw Kit at her feet, looking up at her.

"No - not you too!" she said to her.


Piper shook her head, picked up the toast and flipped it down into Kit's bowl.  She sat back in the chair and folded her arms, a look of resignation on her face.

"Maybe I'm better off without the calories," she said.

"How was your day with Stuart?"  Prue asked Phoebe as they sat in the parlor Saturday evening.

"It was great," Phoebe said. "Did you know it's one-point-seven miles from one end of the Golden Gate Bridge to the other?  We walked it both ways, so that's three-point-four miles, which beats a treadmill any day.  The view from the other end of the bridge is great, unless there's fog when you can't see anything, which there wasn't today.

"Then we walked down, and up, crooked Lombard Street.  Do you know how many steps there are on the street?  I counted them-"

"OK," Piper said, "We get the picture.  You spent six hours with Stuart with a calculator in your hand doing math.  That must have made for an interesting day together."

"It takes fifty minutes to walk back and forth across the bridge," Phoebe said, pointedly, "and ten minutes to walk up and down Lombard Street.  That left us with five hours to make the day interesting together - and we did."

"Oh."  Piper half squinted at Phoebe, and seeing the look on her face, decided it would be best not to pursue the matter.

", Prue, how did you make out researching your author?" Piper asked, changing the subject.

"I read his books," Prue said.  "He knows a lot about witchcraft and the occult.  There were a few things in them that I didn't know, even though I researched my role for Charmed.

"But there's something wrong with the way he writes about certain things," Prue continued. "He says the Witches Rules that prohibit witches from using their powers for personal gain were made up by austere, repressed witches who wanted a way of keeping control over other witches.  And that witches today have begun breaking the rules.  He actually encourages them to do that."

"Charmed's script said that Witches Rules are meant to protect witches' souls," Piper said.

"And then he writes that witches have powers in certain numbers," Prue went on. "Some are good and others are dangerous.  And that witches who have a power of three are the most dangerous - and must be avoided at all cost."

"How can he write such lies?"  Piper asked.

"I don't know," Prue said. "But I'm going to find out when I see him."

"Find anything in The Book of Shadows that will help find the demons?" Phoebe asked.

"Nothing that I could see," Prue answered. "I tried looking for anything about pentagrams.  There were a few references about it but nothing that I could relate to the girl's murder - or to demons causing destruction."


Phoebe was starting to get the hang of it. She jumped on to the first standing position on the outside of the Powell-Hyde cable car and grabbed hold of the front pole. Despite it being Sunday evening, the car was not crowded and they were able to get the choice spot. Stuart put his arms around her and held on to the pole as well. The ride up Powell Street had been fun and now the venerable brown and cream cable car was past the switch that separated the Mason line from the Hyde line and was heading up Jackson Street. The wind blew gently in Phoebe's hair as the cable car made the sharp right turn onto Hyde Street.

"Here we go," Stuart said as the cable car started its climb up Hyde. The car reached the line's apex near crooked Lombard Street and Phoebe could look straight down Hyde to the lights at Fisherman's Wharf and the dark water behind it.

"Hold on, Phoebe, here comes the good part," he said. The cable car started its steep descent and Stuart's arms tightened around her. He could not put into words, even in his mind, what he was feeling being here with Phoebe.

The cable car stopped just past North Point Street, behind half a dozen other cable cars queued up, waiting to take people back downtown. They jumped off and walked downhill the block and a half to Jefferson Street, the main and last street in Fisherman's Wharf.

Turning right on Jefferson led to the Cannery, the historic red brick building that had once been the largest peach canning facility in the world and was now the home to numerous boutique shops and restaurants. But Stuart had something else he wanted to show Phoebe. So he turned left instead and headed in the direction of Aquatic Park at the nearby end of Jefferson.

"That was really good," she said, holding his hand as they walked.  "Sort of a roller coaster in slow motion."

"It's a far better view than anything you have in LA," he said.

"Certainly more dramatic."  She was silent for a moment, thinking, as they turned the corner.

"LA, Hollywood...San Francisco is so different it all seems so far away, now," she said. "Like they're in a different world." She paused, her mind flipping back and forth between the cities - and her life in them. "Maybe its better that way. Here, you can pretty much count on things continuing to be what they are.  The cable cars you ride today will be the same ones here tomorrow.  Everyone will still look at them as they did today.  They'll have their same value to the city, to the tourists - to everyone who rides them.  There's substance to what you see.

"Hollywood is all image.  It's posturing, trying to make sure that everyone keeps seeing you as you want them to think you are.  Because once they don't, you may be history.

"The networks, the production companies - they all have short memories.  If you don't keep your name in front of them, or if your show fails - they may not remember you the next day.

"Here, I can just be...uh, Phoebe.  Without continuously thinking about my image."

"Is it all really that fragile?" he asked.

"There's little patience at the networks," she said. "If your show isn't an instant hit then it's an instant failure.  And even then you're only as good as your last overnights.  When you get up in the morning you don't know if you still have any value."

"That has to be hard on your self-confidence," he said.

"Sometimes I think everyone in Hollywood is schizophrenic," she said. "They need self-confidence when they play a role but they're petrified that no one will give them another one."

"I don't know how you put up with it," he said.

"You get used to it," she replied. "It's the price you have to pay."

"For fame?" he asked. "Is it worth it?"

"For the dream," she said. "Acting is my dream."

"Oh. That's different," he said. "Dreams can be very expensive to realize. I guess you know that when you start pursuing them.

"But you need some consistency," he continued. "You need someone to remind you that you really are very good. As a person and as an actress. Regardless of what producers or ratings say. Someone you can depend on to tell you the truth."

"Dependable - and true?" she asked. "In Hollywood? That's a hard combination to find."

They stopped as they reached the water's edge below Ghirardelli Square. The former square-block manufacturing headquarters for the world-famous chocolates was now the home to specialty shops and restaurants. The company still had a presence in its flagship retail store on the first level of the Square and in the giant twenty-five foot high Ghirardelli sign atop the building. The lights of the sign evoked a placid, relaxing charm, complementing the twilight view of the Golden Gate Bridge across the bay.

"So lovely, with a unique beauty," Phoebe said.

"Lovely, indeed," he agreed. "The most beautiful in the world.”

"And such a commanding presence," she added.

"You know that from the first time you see her," he said.

"I don't think I could get bored standing here," she said.

"I could look at her for hours at a time," he said.

"Well, that's a lot.  It's only a bridge," she said.

"Who's talking about a bridge?" he said. “I’m talking about you.”

She turned to him, tilted her head and gave him a smile.

"You know," he said, "in the five days that we've been here I've gotten to really know you."

"And now you see that I'm not the same as you thought I was," she said.

"When you feel, when you believe, that someone has such special qualities," he said, "and then you meet that person and see her character in real, you're not the same as I thought you were. You're even better." He slowly took her in his arms and they kissed.


"Looks like everyone's sleeping," Phoebe said, as they reached the top of the stairs in The Manor.  "I think I'll turn in too."

Stuart saw Phoebe hesitate and sensed she was feeling awkward.

"Just because we're in the same house doesn't mean I'm assuming anything," he said. "Friday night...was wonderful." He smiled. "But this is Sunday night - and there are no assumptions.

“Assumptions create pressure,” he continued.  “That's the last thing a new relationship needs.” He gently kissed her.

"Good night," he said, turned and went into his room.

Phoebe looked after him as he closed the door..

“Good night, Stuart,” she said, with a small smile on her face.

"Don't everyone answer the phone at once," Phoebe shouted, as she came down the stairs for breakfast the next morning.

"Never mind - I'll get it!" she said, giving up.

Prue came down the stairs with her camera bag and went into the kitchen.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," Piper responded.  "You're off to your shoot with that Rolfe guy?"

"Yes," Prue said as she grabbed her coffee.  "What are you doing this morning?"

"Checking inventory at the club,” Piper answered. “We seem to have misplaced six cartons of tomato juice.  But it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."

"Good," Prue said. "Then I'll take the car and drop you off at the club.  I'll pick you up after the shoot and maybe we'll go shopping.  There's a sale on at a store on Union Street."

"Hmm.  Do you think they'll have any olives at the sale?" Piper asked. "We're out of them, too."

"Morning Stuart," Prue said as he walked in to the kitchen.  "Where are you off to today?"

"I don't know yet what I'm doing today," he said.

"Well, I know what I'm doing today," Phoebe said as she came into the kitchen.  "That was Rebecca on the phone.  A girl I don't know who is in my class that I've never been to in a college I don't even know where.  She wanted to know if I've finished the paper that's due on Wednesday and if so could she borrow my class notes."

"Have you?"  Piper asked, with a perfectly straight face.

Phoebe gave her a look.  "We were brought here to find demons and save the world.  Not to try to pass a college course."

"I seem to recall you saying something about living the part and staying in character all the time," Prue said with a wry smile.

"Funny," Phoebe said. "You get to go off and shoot famous people, or at least people who someday may be famous, while I get to stay home - and do homework. The least The Elders could have done was to have a finished paper ready. Just as I would have done on Charmed."

"Uh, we're talking about Phoebe here," Prue said.  "Not exactly Miss Responsible."

"I've been responsible on Charmed with regard to my college work," she countered. "Just ask Brad." Brad Kern was the Executive Producer of Charmed, who also wrote some of its scripts.

"I would like to do just that," Prue said with a sigh.  "But I don't think I'll get the chance to for quite some time."

"What's the paper on?"  Stuart asked.

"The affects of childhood environments on the eventual adult lives," Phoebe said.

"Well, that should be easy for you," Prue said.  "Just write about how being a teenage TV star led you to grow up to become a real-life witch."

"Ooohh," Phoebe made a face at Prue and tried to slap her.

"Oh - gotta run," Prue said as she dashed out of the kitchen avoiding Phoebe.  "Coming Piper?"

"Love you," Piper said to Phoebe as she hurriedly followed Prue.

"Ooohh."  Phoebe said looking after them.

"Aren't sisters great?"  Stuart asked with feigned innocence.


He stood in the middle of the room, candles set out on the floor around him.  In his mid-thirties, he was tall and decidedly handsome, his dirty blonde hair having a touch of a curl.  He knelt down and placed his fingers inside a small glass bowl, touching its brown and green contents and concentrating as he did.  Presently there was an image of another man, somewhat older and dressed entirely in black, in the room with him.

"Today you begin to destroy the Charmed Ones," the image said.  "Prue Halliwell is coming to you. Good witches' goodness come from their hearts.  You will change her heart with the power I am giving you."

Small puffs of light went forth from the image and were absorbed in the first man's body.

"And afterwards?" the man began to say.

"You will have more understanding of what you want and be able to start your next book," the image said. "But you'll have to destroy the goodness of her sisters as well.  Then I'll give you enough knowledge for your book to be a great success.  And you want that very much."

"Yes, I do," the man said.

"Then you know what you must do."

"I understand," the man replied.

The doorbell rang.  The image nodded and disappeared.  The man left the room and went to the front door.

"Davis Rolfe?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Hi.  I'm Prue Halliwell from Four One Five Magazine."

"I've been expecting you.  Come in."  Prue walked in, her camera bag over her shoulder, and looked around.

"You have a nice home," Prue said.

"Thank you."

"Let's see where we can shoot the pictures," she said.

"I think my writing room would be the best place," he said. "I have many occult things there that I use in researching my books.  It will give the right flavor to the pictures."

"OK," Prue said.

Rolfe escorted her into the room he had been in moments before.  Prue looked around the room. Besides the candles on the floor, she saw urns of incense along a shelf, with rows of black candles on shelves above it.  Tapestries hung on the opposite wall.  Prue did not know their significance but she could tell they were somehow related to witchcraft.

"Do you practice what you write about?" she asked.

"I have to get a feel for the subject," he answered. "As any good researcher would."

"I suppose," she said, as she took out her camera.  "Let's start over here by the candles."

"How do you get your information," she asked as she shot away.

"Digging,” he answered. “That's what good books need, especially ones whose subject is not generally known, or understood, very well."

"Do you have any special sources, ones who you can go to for some of the details?" she asked as she moved Rolfe around the room, taking pictures in different spots.

"You mean, do I know any real witches who help me out?" he said. "If I did, I wouldn't tell you.  No writer would give away his sources, especially on a subject that not everyone accepts.

"Do you accept that there is witchcraft?" he asked.

"Uh...I haven't really thought about it," Prue said. "But I did want to ask you about something you wrote."

"You read my books," he said sounding pleased. "Then you must indeed have thought about it."

"I felt reading them would give me a better feel for getting the real you in the pictures."  She lowered the camera, holding it in one hand.  "Why did you write that witches should break their Witches Rules?  Isn't that like telling people to break the law?"

"Law?  Whose law?!" he said, emphatically. "Witches of long ago who did not know how to enjoy life - and didn't want anyone else to enjoy it either. It's really akin to someone who has money sitting in the bank and being told that he can't use any of it for himself.  Wouldn't you agree?"

", I wouldn't," Prue said. "They're not the same."

Rolfe took Prue's free hand in his and looked deeply into her eyes.

"You will," he said. "In time you'll see they're exactly the same."

Prue felt something entering her body.  For a second she felt confused.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I'm...I'm fine," she said, pausing.  "I think I've got everything I need."

"Good.  By the way, do you have any family - parents, sisters?" he asked.


"I'm doing a book signing this afternoon at Stacey’s Bookstore on Market Street and then having a small celebratory gathering here afterwards," he said. "Why don't you come and bring them along.  I think they'd enjoy it."

"Uh...I'll tell them," Prue said. "Thank you."


"So what did you get from Rolfe?"  Piper asked as Prue drove the car to the Union Street store.

"He's very interesting," Prue answered.

"What about what he wrote about the Power of Three?"

"I didn't ask him," Prue said. "He didn't want to reveal his sources and I didn't see any reason to insist."

"Any reason?" Piper said. "He wrote that we're dangerous, as if we're evil."

"Maybe we are," Prue said.

"What?"  Piper said.

Prue suddenly hit the brakes.  A car in front of her had its reverse lights on, obviously wanting to back into the only available parking space on the block.  Prue looked at the car and gave a motion with her head, sending it hurtling forward.  She moved her car up and then backed into the spot.

"Prue - what did you just do?"  Piper asked incredulously.

"It's the only spot on the block and it's right in front of the store," Prue said. "I didn't want to have to walk from the next block."

Piper couldn't believe what she heard.  "You used your power for personal gain," Piper said. "You know we can't do that. And someone could have been in front of that car.  People could have been hurt."

"That car's driver should have checked that before stopping there," Prue said. "Come on, I want to get this perfume before they run out of it."  She jumped out of the car and hurried into the store.  By the time Piper got out of the car Prue was already inside.

Piper caught up with her at the sale shelf.  Only one bottle of the perfume was left and a woman, standing in front of it, was about to take it.  Prue waved her hand and the bottle moved down the shelf to her.  The woman turned to Prue and stared at both her and the bottle in disbelief.  Prue grabbed the bottle and headed for the girl at the cash register.

"Prue!"  Piper grabbed her by the arm.

"It was the last bottle and I want it," Prue said.

Piper looked around and, not wanting to make more of a scene, said nothing.  When they were back in the car she turned to Prue.

"What is going on?" Piper asked. "What is the matter with you?  You're using your power for personal gain."

"What's wrong with that," Prue said. "It's mine and I can use it however I want.  Just like my money."

"Prue, this isn't you," Piper said.

"Maybe this wasn't me before but it is now," she said. "Rolfe was right.  Just because some old repressed witch made up some rules because she didn't know how to have fun with her powers, doesn't mean I can't." She started the car, pulled out of the parking spot without even looking  and zoomed off.


"Phoebe!"  Piper called as Prue ran upstairs to her room.  "Phoebe!"

"In here," she answered.

Piper hurried into the parlor.  "We've got a big problem," she said. "Something's happened to Prue.  She picked me up at the club and wanted to do some shopping.  Then she suddenly started using her power for personal gain.  She pushed away a car from a parking space she wanted and snatched a perfume bottle from a woman in the store."

"What!?" Phoebe asked, shocked.

"And then she said that Rolfe was right about breaking the Witches Rules," Piper continued.

"Something must have happened to her while she was taking his pictures," Phoebe said.  "We have to find out what."

"Prue said Rolfe was having a book signing at a bookstore this afternoon and a small gathering in celebration at his home afterwards," Piper said. "He told her to invite us."

"Then I think we should take him up on his offer," Phoebe said.

"I better stay here and keep an eye on Prue," Piper said.  "Take Stuart with you.  It's not safe for you to go there alone."

"OK," Phoebe said. "Try to keep her in the house."

"Phoebe - be careful," Piper said. "Don't let Rolfe know who you are.  We don't know what we're up against."


"Hello," Rolfe said as he opened the front door of his house.

"Hi.  My name is Stuart Weston and this is my girlfriend Alyssa Milano.  We're friends of Prue Halliwell."

"Really," he said.

"Yes," Stuart said. "We saw her this afternoon and she just kept talking about you and your books."

"She had this breathtaking new diamond ring," Phoebe said, "and she said she had you to thank for it.  She said we should meet you and buy your books."

"We went to Stacey’s Bookstore," Stuart said, "but you had already left.  The owner told us about your get-together.  I guess he saw how disappointed Alyssa was in not meeting you.  I hope it's all right that we came."

"Of course it is," Rolfe said. "After all, it's enthusiastic people like you who make for good word of mouth and help my sales.  Do come in."

About two dozen people were standing around or sitting, most holding either a drink or an hors d'oeuvre.

"Davis, I do want to ask you about your next book," a matronly woman said as she approached him.

"Mingle and enjoy," he said to them as the woman pulled him off to the side.  "We'll talk in just a bit."

Stuart and Phoebe surveyed the room.  Two doors were off to the left side of the room while a third door was to their right.  A waiter came through it carrying a tray of canapes.

"The kitchen," Phoebe said.  "I'll check out the other two."  She slowly made her way around the room.  Stuart nodded his head and she quickly opened the first door and went in.  After a minute, the door opened a crack and Phoebe peeked out.  Stuart checked on Rolfe.  The woman seemed to be chewing his ear off but he was facing away from Phoebe.

Stuart gave her a sign and she quietly came out.  She quickly moved to the other door, opened it, and went inside.

Phoebe slowly went around the room.  She picked up a few of the black candles on the shelf then put them down.  She started to run her hand across one of the tapestries when she saw the glass bowl. It was on a shelf by itself and was filled with something brown and green.

Phoebe put her hands around it to pick it up but stopped, closing her eyes instead to concentrate. She let go of the bowl and hurried back to the door.

Peeking out, she saw Rolfe standing with his back to her, talking to Stuart.  She came out of the room and silently closed the door.

"I've never thought much about it but Alyssa has some interest in the occult," Stuart was saying. "So Prue's telling us about you today was a good coincidence."

"Actually, not a good one," Phoebe said, grabbing Stuart by his arm.  "I just realized that today is exactly thirteen days between your birthday and mine.  And you know that's not a good day for us to do anything except hide in bed together.  I mean, uh, under the bed.  Not a day to do anything with the occult."

"I can assure you there's no such thing," Rolfe said.  "My book lists dates and days to avoid and this is not one of them."

"I haven't read your book yet," Phoebe said, dragging Stuart to the door.

"But I'll buy it for her tomorrow," Stuart yelled to Rolfe as Phoebe pulled him outside.  "Both of them." They hurried down the steps and back to the car.

"What did you find," Stuart asked as they sat in the car.

"I touched a bowl that had some brown and green stuff in it,” Phoebe said, “and I got a premonition of the past.  A demon was giving Rolfe the power to cast a spell to remove the goodness from Prue's heart, to change her.  And that would be the beginning of destroying the Charmed Ones.

"We've got to get back to The Manor and look in the Book of Shadows,” she continued. “We have to find a way to reverse the spell."


"What happened?"  Piper asked as they came in.

"Rolfe cast a spell to take away Prue's goodness from her heart," Phoebe said as she started up the stairs.  "I'm going to the attic to look through The Book of Shadows."

"How's Prue?"  Stuart asked.

"See for yourself," Piper said, leading him into the living room.  Prue was lying on the sofa, a magazine in her hand.  The chairs were piled high with all types of expensive looking clothes.

"She decided she needed a new wardrobe, something more in keeping with who she was," Piper said. "She found this fashion magazine and came up with a spell that made all of the clothes in the pictures become real."

"I think you should go up to the attic and see if you can help Phoebe," Stuart said. "I'll stay with Prue and, uh...try to stop her from doing anything more."

Piper went up the stairs and Stuart looked around for someplace to sit. He took a Burberry scarf and coat off one of the chairs, placed them on the floor, and sat down.

"Oooh," Prue said sitting up, looking at an advertisement.  "What an exquisite mink coat."

"Uh, no Prue," he said. "You don't want that now.  It's the wrong season for mink.  And storage is always such a hassle."

"Oh."  She tore the page out of the magazine.  "Then I'll put this aside until the fall."


 "I finally convinced her to go to sleep," Stuart said to Piper and Phoebe in the attic.  "I told her she needs to be rested for tomorrow so we can look for a new house."

"She wants a new house?" Piper asked.

"Yes," he said, "one that's large enough to hold all of the clothes she got tonight and the swimming pool and the two Rolls Royces she wants to get.  I hope you found something in The Book of Shadows."

"We did," Piper said.  "The demon Phoebe saw is Driskoll.  He can transmit his powers to mortals and then tries to destroy good witches through them.  His connection is that glass bowl that Phoebe touched.  The mixture in there allows him to appear and give Rolfe his powers."

"Can he be vanquished?" Stuart asked.

"There's a potion in the Book," Phoebe said.  "Pouring it on that mixture will vanquish Driskoll.  It will remove Rolfe's powers and break his spell on Prue.  But I don't have all of the ingredients and the store that has them is closed.  I'll have to get them in the morning."

"We'll have to find a way to keep Prue from doing anything tomorrow until we vanquish him," Piper said.

"Maybe we can get her to try on all of the new clothes she got," Stuart said.  "From the look of what's in the living room, that could take her all day."


 "Why bother," Prue said after her morning coffee.  "If they don't fit, I'll make up a spell to change their size."

"Prue, it's really better if you stayed home this morning.  You really are not yourself," Phoebe said.

"Not myself?"  Prue gave her a long look.  "You're jealous.  You're jealous of me that I have powers that I can use for myself.  And you don't.  You can't do anything except get images.

"You've always been jealous of me, the big sister who could accomplish things.  The one Grams trusted because you were so irresponsible.  It bothers you that I have things now and you don't. And that I'm going out now to get more things, and you can't."

Prue grabbed her pocketbook and headed for the door.

"Grams?!" Phoebe said. "Don’t you remember who we really-"

"Wait, Prue," Stuart said, cutting Phoebe off.  "I, uh, think you're right.  There's no reason you shouldn't enjoy your powers.  They don't understand but I do.

"Can I come along with you? can do something for me, too."

Prue stopped and turned around.  "Sure, why not. How would you like a diamond-studded platinum Rolex?"

"Sounds...great," he said. "Just what I've always wanted.  Uh, meet you by the car."

"Right," Prue said as she went out the door.

"I'll try to keep her from doing too much damage but you've got to hurry," he said to Phoebe.

"Piper went to the store to get the ingredients," Phoebe said. "As soon as she gets back I'll make the potion and we'll go to Rolfe's house."

"Good luck," they said simultaneously to each other.


"I can't make up my mind," Prue said as they slowly drove through the Marina District.  "Those three houses together would be nice.  But I also liked the four we saw around the corner.  I can't decide which ones to take."

"There are some really magnificent ones on Baker Street that we haven't seen yet," Stuart said, stalling for time. “They’re opposite the Palace of Fine Art. I think you shouldn't choose any until you've see them."

"You're right," Prue said.  "These will still be here after we look at the others.  They aren't going anywhere - until I take them."

She started driving down the block then stopped.  "This is so exciting, so liberating.  And I have Davis Rolfe to thank for it.

"In fact, I think that's what I'll do.  I'll drive over to him right now and thank him for what he's done for me."

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea right now," Stuart said, trying to stop her. "We're in the middle of looking at houses.  It will be hard later to remember which ones we saw and which ones we liked."

"Then we'll just start over again," she said. "Or maybe I won't bother and just take them all."  She floored the pedal and they zoomed off.



The door opened.  "Good morning.  Davis Rolfe, right?" Piper asked.

"Yes," he said. "And who are you?"

Piper casually flicked her hand.  "OK," she said.  Phoebe ran out from behind the bushes and made her way past the frozen Rolfe into the house.  When Piper saw her go into Rolfe’s writing room and close the door behind her she flicked her hand again.

"Holly Combs, Four One Five Magazine," she said to him. "I'm writing the article about you."

"Oh.  I was not expecting you today," he said, surprised.

"I know," Piper said, "but the deadline changed so we had to move up the interview."

"Very well, come in," he said.

He was about to close the door when he heard the screeching tires.  The car stopped short in front of the house and Prue jumped out and ran up the steps.

"Davis," she called to him.

"Prue, how nice to see you," he responded. "I was just about to be interviewed by your associate-"

"Piper," she said, "What are you doing here?"

"Piper?" he said.

"My sister," Prue said.

"You," he said, as Stuart came in.  "You were here last night with your girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?"  Prue said, turning to Stuart.  "Where's Phoebe?" she demanded.

"Piper...Phoebe...Halliwell - the Charmed Ones," Rolfe said.  He turned towards the writing room that Phoebe was in and ran to it.  Prue, Piper and Stuart quickly did the same.

Phoebe was standing by the bowl, which was on the floor in the center of the candles, the small bottle of potion in her hand.  Rolfe ran to the bowl and snatched it away, picking it up with his fingers inside of it.

"What are you doing?"  Prue shouted at Phoebe and waved her hand at her.  Phoebe flew into the far wall, the bottle falling from her hand.  The potion spilled out, forming a small puddle on the floor.

Driskoll's image was now in the room.  "I've given you the power.  Destroy the hearts of the other two Halliwells, now," he commanded Rolfe.

Stuart grabbed Prue and threw her, face down, onto the floor.  He held her wrists with every bit of strength he had, trying to stop her from using her hands or her eyes to do anything else.

Rolfe took one hand from the bowl and tried to grab Piper's hand.  But she went behind him and shoved him, almost pushing him over. She grabbed the bowl with both hands and pulled it away from him before he could regain his balance.

Prue, struggling, managed to turn her head just enough to see Stuart with her right eye and sent him flying into the wall next to them.

But Piper was already on the floor next to Phoebe.  She quickly dumped the bowl's contents into the potion's puddle.

"Arrgghh!!!"  Driskoll screamed as he started twisting.  He screamed twice more and then he was gone, as Rolfe collapsed on the floor.

"Are you hurt?"  Piper asked Phoebe as she helped her up.

"I'm OK," she said.

Prue was standing, a look of shock on her face.

"What...did I do?  What...have I done?" she said, putting her hands to her face.

"It wasn't your fault," Phoebe said as she walked over to her.  "Rolfe put a spell on you.  It's broken now."

"Oh, Phoebe.  I'm so sorry."  Prue was crying as she put her arms around her and hugged her.

"It's OK, honey.  It's over now," Phoebe said, hugging her back.

"Is Rolfe...?"  Prue asked.

"Dead?  No," Piper said.  "But with Driskoll vanquished, he no longer has a connection to demons and their knowledge.  He won't be writing any more books about witches."

"Fifteen minutes of fame," Phoebe said.

"That was fifteen minutes too much," Stuart said, holding his head.

"Oh, Stuart.  I'm sorry.  Are you OK?"  Prue asked.

"Yeah.  I think so," he said. "I just can't seem to get used to you doing that to me."

"I can understand now how witches turn bad," Prue said.  "The feeling of power, of getting whatever you want - well, it can be very tempting."

"Still tempted?"  Piper asked.

"No," she answered. "There are things more important than wealth and power.  The good feeling inside of you that they can't give you."

She looked around the room - at the candles, the incense and the un-conscious Rolfe on the floor.

"Let's go," she said.  "I've had enough of this."

"The car keys, please," Stuart said to Prue.  "I don't think my nerves can take any more of your driving today."

"Nor can mine," she said, as she handed them to him.


 "I think you'd better get your pictures over to the magazine before they realize that their star author is a thing of the past," Phoebe said, as they sat in the living room.

"I have something more important to do first," Prue said.  "To thank you.  For saving me.  And for risking yourselves for me."

"That's what sisters are for," Piper said.

"Sisters," Prue said.  We really are sisters now, she thought. Feeling and caring about each other the way sisters do.

"And what close friends are for, too," Phoebe said, motioning to Stuart.

"More than just a close friend," Prue said, turning to him.  "You're part of our family."

"Being accepted by you...means so much to me," Stuart said, smiling.  "Thank you,"

"What will we do with all of these clothes?"  Piper asked.

"Maybe I could come up with a spell to put them back into the magazine," Phoebe said.

"Maybe...since they already exist, we should give them to a charity," Prue said. "There's a local one that Four One Five sponsors.  If we give it anonymously no one will know who they came from so we won't have any personal gain from it.  I don't think that would break a Witches Rule.”

"No, I don't think it would either," Piper said.

"At least by giving them to charity something good will have come out of this," Phoebe said.

"Something good already has," Prue said, taking Phoebe's and Pipers hands in hers and squeezing them.

"It's a good thing you didn't take those houses we saw.  It would have been tough to give those away anonymously," Stuart said, and they all sat back and laughed.