Precious Illusions

Prologue: "Just a feeling..."

"And this just in," the female voice hurriedly stated, her tone stressing a last minute sense of urgency, as she most likely read the late breaking story word for word from a crisp white sheet of paper that had only just found its way into her grasp. "A thirty-five-year-old male was allegedly beaten to death in his home this evening. Police responded to the scene after a frantic call from an elderly neighbor, who reported hearing his screams for help through an open window at the victim's place of residence. The door was locked from the inside when authorities forced their way in through the front entrance, and they still haven't managed to locate the weapon that may have perpetrated the attack. The young man has been identified as Derek T. Wilkinson, a lawyer who worked for the Jackman, Carter and Kline law firm. We're asking anyone who has any pertinent information about this case to come forward. We urge you to get in touch with the San Francisco Police Department at 553-0123. No suspects have been taken into custody at this time."

"Hey, could you turn that up?!" Paige Matthews shouted frantically over the noise, fighting hard to be heard amongst the overly crowded Friday night commotion in P3, as she impatiently smoothed out the wrinkles in her dark green dress. She abruptly plopped her slender frame down on a stool at the bar in her sister's club, her pretty face suddenly forming a considerable frown. A small radio sat comfortably to her right, perched high upon a narrow shelf near the cash register, its volume clearly coming into question when a few extra bodies gathered around it to mumble incoherent conversation and excitedly wait their turn for drinks. Her recently confirmed hatred for noisy weekend partygoers was pretty much cemented in stone as a man with bright red curly hair nearly hurled himself into her, his obnoxious laughter threatening to give her a painful headache, while he clumsily slid an empty glass across the slick wood tabletop without even entertaining the notion that there might be others around him.

"What?!" Piper Halliwell shouted, as she gently tucked away a pad and pencil, absentmindedly peeling away a single strand of long brown hair from her face and tucking it carefully behind her ear.

"The radio!" Paige repeated, still struggling to get her point across. "For God's sake, Piper, turn it up!"

"Okay, okay, no need to get all pushy," her sister mumbled under her breath, as she quickly reached over and adjusted the volume, briefly stopping to roll her eyes. "Happy now?"

"And in other news today, an elderly man driving a pickup in Los Angeles, is said to have caused a car accident on the north..."

The voice droned steadily on, while Paige merely stirred the drink she'd placed in front of her, her lips forming a quiet pout resulting in unmistakable defeat. "No, I'm not," she decidedly declared, noticeably agitated. "Crap."

"I didn't know you took such an interest in world events. I mean, I can see other-worldly, but maybe you hit your head a little too hard when you went to the bathroom," Piper retorted.

"It was just...I just wanted to..."

The Charmed One merely arched an eyebrow in response, crossing her arms over her chest. "You just what? What is it, Paige? In case you haven't noticed, none of us have been blessed with reading minds yet."

"But oh what the future could bring," she drawled sarcastically.

"Yeah," Piper added, as she lowered her voice, hands now bracing themselves against her hips, "so unless you heard that the manor was burglarized by a bunch of demons who just stole The Book of Shadows, I really don't see how anything you were listening to on there, has anything whatsoever to do with us."

"Not us, per se," Paige continued, as she began to apprehensively drum her fingernails on the surface below, slowly tilting her head and offering just the briefest of glances out onto the jam-packed dance floor. "Maybe someone else, though."

"Okay, so who?" she queried. "Who is so damn important that we've just got to take time out of our busy schedules and pay them a visit? No...actually, you know what? Scratch that. My busy schedule, because you're not exactly in the vicinity of gainfully employed yet, are you?"

"Low blow, but hey I guess I deserved that, didn't I?" the other woman mumbled. "Look, this could just end up being nothing, okay? I mean, far be it for me to freak out over something that ends up being seriously trivial and stupid, all right?"

"Then what's the problem?" Piper pressed.

"I'm not entirely sure there is a problem," she insisted. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"Actually, there is," a familiar voice chimed in on a brusque note, as he gently set a cardboard box down on the ground, and casually pulled up the sleeves of his old navy sweatshirt to his elbows. "A huge one, as it currently stands. It's a great big mess back there and that's not exactly good for business. But I trust you were probably already well aware of that fact when you asked me to help, otherwise I wouldn't have come close to killing myself tripping over the rags piled sky high. So if it's all the same to you, I think now is a pretty good time to ask for a raise."

"Another country heard from," Paige stated quietly.

"Yes, and I'm just going to go ahead and assume there's some other reason you've been staring at me like I'm sporting my former demonic likeness," Cole Turner cautiously reasoned, calmly resting a hand below his chin on his gorgeous unshaven face, his rangy, well-muscled frame clad in tattered jeans and beige work boots with worn laces. He grimaced slightly when he noticed the conglomeration of empty glasses strewn about, promptly adjusting the baseball cap covering his dark head of hair. "I'm actually beginning to doubt you just had that whole round of shots over there, but just for the record, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"It wouldn't do anything to change what's already there," she argued, "so why bother?"

"Speaking of which, half the glasses in the new shipment are broken," he informed Piper, as he ignored Paige entirely, professing a quick grin on his behalf. "However, I'm sure you'd be surprised to know the swizzle sticks arrived fully intact."

"Oh thank my lucky stars," Piper quipped, as she curiously peeked over the counter and into the box he'd tossed down at his feet only moments earlier, a reluctant smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Everything's suddenly better because the swizzle sticks are safe. How many have I got, smart guy?"

"Glasses?" he returned. "Because I don't even think CPR could save them at this point."

"Sticks," she offered, wasting no time tossing him a slightly perturbed look.

"Well I thought that was your job," he sided, mustering up a brief chuckle, as he reached over and helped himself to a bottle of beer. Much to her dismay, he twisted off the cap with little to no effort at all, and threw a crumpled handful of dollar bills in her direction, placing the remaining stash in a vacant pocket of his jeans. The band that had landed the gig to play that night, was belting out a string of unintelligible lyrics, and he suddenly wondered whether or not anyone ever left with their ears bleeding. The sound was near excruciating, and it was faintly reminiscent of a demon he'd helped the sisters vanquish about a week ago, when they'd saved an innocent in some dirty trash cluttered alley he was also trying rather desperately to block from his mind.

"I'm doing my job. I've been doing my job all night." She paused a minute, grimacing, as she began collecting the money and delicately straightening it, blowing out a tired breath. "Look, I was under the impression we had an agreement here, Cole. I'm running a bit behind, and you've got some time coming. Would it really hurt to lend a hand to a struggling club owner in need of a little break?"

"It's funny you should say that, because I'm thinking we could work this both ways."

She simply glared at him. "Meaning?"

"How would you like to come by my office in a few days and help me go through some paperwork? Depositions mostly. See, I think they'd really love a witch's touch, and far be it for me to just forget how convenient it is to ask one these days."

"Heh, yeah, I really don't think so."

"Oh, c'mon," he protested. "I'd get you your own desk and everything. Temporarily, that is. My secretary would probably miss it after a few hours."

"Gee, Cole, it's awfully tempting, but I think it's fair to say that I've never cheated or bent the truth unless it was absolutely necessary."

He shot her a fairly amused smile. "Is there a moral to this story that doesn't involve personal gain?"

"Yes," she answered, "and it's that lawyers creep me out. They lie and they stretch every possible motive in order to find their own twisted little version of the truth. You name it they've toyed with it, putting their grubby hands all over it. Remember how Rickman went and lost his head? Figuratively and literally speaking? Ring a bell with anyone?"

"Oh, God," Paige murmured. "You know, that was really gross, wasn't it?"

Cole gave her his full attention, obviously intrigued, as he tilted his head to the side in bewilderment. "I hate to break it to you, Paige, but you were already dead at that point, so with all due respect, it really shouldn't matter what you-"

"Yeah, all right, but just the thought of it makes my blood run cold. I mean the bastard had it coming, didn't he? All things considered, he probably got a very early birthday present. Odds are it probably wasn't the one he wanted, but we can't have everything, right?"

"Actually, I think that would be Christmas," he reminded her.

"What? Oh. Yeah, that's...that's what I meant, you know, with all of the...exchanging and everything." She idly shrugged, as her fingers haphazardly started to play with a crumpled napkin she'd found in front of her, meticulously folding it into a perfect triangle.

"Yes, all the exchanging and everything," he noted, a smirk falling across his features, as he took a light sip of his beer. "I guess we really didn't learn that much when we were on the other plane now, did we?"

"Okay, you can't just say something like that and not bother to elaborate," she roughly objected. "What exactly were we supposed to learn, Cole, because if I'm going to go on a hunch here, I'd say it's that we should probably refrain from killing crazy women that happen to have even crazier boyfriends. That is unless of course you've got a more meaningful explanation to bestow upon us, which to be perfectly honest- I'd really love to hear."

"I was merely insinuating that the true spirit of the holidays is lost on you," he tried, as he zeroed in on a young couple having a very public spat near the club's entrance, while another couple struggled madly without any luck to pull them apart so they could go their separate ways, the hectic commotion catching the agitated attention of a nearby bouncer. "But take it as you like."

"Well, while that may be true, we didn't exactly stay dead in the end, right? You have to admit that counts for something."

"Yes, and Cole also killed someone," Piper added, just a bit too loudly, before she caught herself, her cheeks unhesitatingly flushing a bright shade of red.

"Thanks," he drawled, shooting her an exasperated scowl. "You know, maybe you should go ahead and post a bulletin. I don't think everybody heard you, and it might just end up bringing in some extra customers in the near future."

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Do you think Andy's covering that homicide?" Paige abruptly cut in, nonchalantly changing the subject, her thoughts easily drifting from the topic at hand, as she gently propped one hand beneath her chin.

"Okay, um...where'd that come from?" Piper asked her, blinking, her pretty face displaying a puzzled expression.

"Huh?"

"You just mentioned it right out of the blue," her sister corroborated. "What homicide?"

"Look, I think I'm going to call it a night, all right?" She hopped off the stool, fastidiously slinging the thin strap of her matching purse across her chest, as she mentally contemplated the easiest way to exit and avoid getting helplessly trampled to death.

"Whoa, Paige, what homicide?"

"It's nothing," she muttered. "Really, just forget it."

"Would you stop saying that?" Piper demanded. "It wouldn't be bothering you this much if it were nothing."

"Did I say it was bothering me?" she hastily returned.

"Paige-"

"I'm just going to go check something out, then head home. Trust me, I can take care of myself, Piper- or did you suddenly forget that I'm one of the all powerful-"

"But not invincible," Cole tossed at her.

"Charmed Ones," she finished, rolling her eyes. "I'll be fine, and even if I did run into a snag and a bunch of demons killed me, it would still all work out, anyway, because Cole's been asking me to move out for months. So when you take the time to think about it, what's the big deal?"

"Ugh..." Piper threw up her arms in defeat, her frustration beginning to render her defenseless, her hands stubbornly placing themselves on her hips once again. "Cole, go with her, would you?"

"Can we take a vote, or has it already been decided?" he countered.

She clenched her teeth. "I voted, and I decided."

"Oh, well in that case, I guess I'd better go if I don't want to end up like Leo and get the third degree, right?"

"You're trying my patience," she murmured, her voice managing a sing-song tone that alluded to irritation and a surprisingly strong desire to freeze him on the spot.

"See, that's strange coming from you, because you always tried mine back when I was still trying to kill you," he quipped, as he hurriedly began to trail after Paige, reluctantly admitting to himself that his plans for a quiet night were basically blown to hell at that point, and it was all due to his unwavering affirmation to protect the Charmed Ones- at present the one sister who undoubtedly loathed him the most. "Have a great night!" he called back.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered.

"Hey, hey, hey! Wait up, will you?!"

Paige intentionally did her best to ignore him and didn't bother turning around, her heels clicking noisily, yet steadily across the hard pavement. "I don't need a babysitter or a bodyguard, Cole, so beat it."

"Apparently, I'm neither," he clarified, as he finally caught up to her and matched her stride, a half smile easily falling victim to his handsome countenance. "So what's with all the hostility? Did I miss the memo about you wanting to vanquish me again?"

"Okay, just because I'm interested in something that's obviously none of your business, doesn't mean I've shacked up with Darryl and gone all Nancy Drew."

"No, it just means you're refusing to let me know what's going on with you so I can try and help. It must be important, too, considering you didn't even attempt to clue Piper in. I thought you guys always told each other everything. Or, well, almost everything, because there was a time when you...pretty much handled a situation the way you are right now, and you and I both know it never led anywhere good."

"Well, just for the record," she initiated, "we're not trapped on another plane anymore, so I guess I'm no longer obligated to tell you jack."

"Fair enough. But you're worried, aren't you?" he asked her, his voice lowering itself an octave, as he instinctively reached out a hand and gingerly placed it upon her wrist. She flinched without fully realizing it, and inadvertently halted in her tracks, distractedly shifting her attention to the small purse she still had in her possession. She busied herself with the mundane task of unzipping it, her eyes timidly casting themselves downward, weakly attempting an aimless search of the disorganized mess that lay inside. Her hands began to shake while she continued to rifle negligently through the contents, finally retrieving a shade of bright red lipstick, barely managing to secure it between her thumb and index finger. "About me."

"That's ridiculous, and you know it," she said softly.

"What I know...is that it's not exactly in your nature to publically acknowledge any familial ties where I'm concerned, but I'm also sure of what I saw on your face back there, and I'll be damned if I'm just going to let this slide. You're family to me, Paige, and that's what-"

"You have no idea what you're talking about, Cole."

"Oh no?" he retaliated. "Do you honestly think I haven't heard every excuse imaginable from Phoebe when something like this was bothering her?"

"I don't know, have you?" she snapped before she could stop herself, feeling the guilt recklessly invade her system without warning, never failing to surprise her of what she was truly capable of when her anger stepped in and got the best of her. She'd let some stupid radio news broadcast ruin any amount of happiness she'd felt hours earlier, and it was killing her to be all too aware of the obvious and painful revelation that she was harshly pushing him away when he'd been nothing but supportive of her dilemma. "Look, I'd just...I'd rather not fight with you, okay?"

"Then what's the-"

"It's nothing."

"Yeah, see that one might just keep working on Piper," he interjected, "but it's not going to work on me."

"Well, that's just too bad then, isn't it?"

Cole waited a beat. "Who died, Paige?"

"Who said anyone died?" she returned, raising her eyes up to meet his in a brief, yet unconvincing gesture.

"I was a demon for over a hundred years," he disclosed. "I may not be one anymore, but I can still sense certain things about people that they probably wouldn't want me to know. Plus, I mean, let's face it- you're also a terrible liar, and you always have been. You'd probably actually be ashamed of yourself right now, if you weren't out here running around like some kind of raving lunatic."

"Me? A lunatic?" she scoffed, yanking back her wrist. "Who's the pot calling the kettle black? Regardless of what I heard and what I've been speculating might've happened, I'm not about to get you involved unless it's absolutely necessary. You and Phoebe have had more than enough chaos in your lives these past few months to last you an entire lifetime."

"Do I detect what could just be passing for concern?" he mused a bit sarcastically, the corners of his mouth twitching somewhat, fighting and nearly faltering in holding back a grin. "Paige, I'm touched, I really am, but it's not like we haven't been down this road before. We know it like the back of our hand."

"Yeah, and that was supposed to be a genuine effort at expressing heartfelt...whatever." She skillfully began to apply the vibrant red hue to her lips, her fingers finally steadying themselves long enough to complete the tricky task. "The bottom line is, you always go and shut me out- slam the door right in my face. Everything is like this great big joke to you now, even when we're staring down death, and trying to-"

"Who was it?"

She took a deep breath, both hands falling into loose fists at her sides, her brown eyes gazing up at the night sky, quickly spotting the small stars that had comfortably taken up residence, shining tiny beacons of hope through the morbid darkness. "Do you know a Derek Wilkinson?"

"Derek..."

"Wilkinson," she repeated impatiently.

"Not well," he admitted, shrugging. "I mean I've heard of him by reputation. He was purported to be quite the screw-up in the office, but aside from that, we've never actually met."

"So somebody could have just hated his guts big time then- hypothetically speaking? It could have nothing whatsoever to do with magic, right? Maybe a jealous husband or boyfriend of a girl he was seeing?"

"Paige, what's with the twenty questions? I didn't know him. Honest. I have no idea what he was into or who he might've pissed off in the process...though I'm sorry to say it wasn't me this time."

"He was beaten to death at his place," she supplied, looking up at him again, "and when I heard that he worked at your firm, I got curious. Maybe it's worth investigating...maybe not. I don't know. Maybe it would be best to just leave it alone. I'm kind of drawing straws at this point."

"Yeah, well, we kind of left those back at P3," he confirmed, clasping his hands together with amusement, as he gave her a small smile. "It's also a hell of a lot of maybes, so what'd you say we pick one and go have a look around?"

"What? Cole, it's a crime scene. We'd need Andy to give us some kind of clearance or-"

"No, we don't," he told her matter-of-factly.

"Well, unless you're thinking of impersonating a cop and a bad one at that, I'd say we don't stand much of a chance." She paused a moment. "I was going to say I was Derek's girlfriend."

"Oh, yeah, that should work...especially if your theory is correct and he actually had several of them."

"Hey!" she objected. "I can be pretty damn convincing when I put my mind to it."

"Well, you may not need to do anything at all," he considered, "because chances are they've left by now, and we can sneak in through the back way."

"But couldn’t you just, like, snap your fingers and try and make us invisible or something?"

"I'm sorry?" he queried.

"Don't play dumb," she chastised. "You've got powers too, dude. Your...well, whatever the hell it is that you managed to pick up from the wasteland before Phoebe decided to go and take your sorry ass back. Comprende?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, and once again, that would be personal gain, Paige."

"So? Since when are you above using it?" she questioned, folding her arms firmly across her chest.

"Since Phoebe took my sorry ass back," he concluded, "which would automatically have me assuming we're not exactly seeing eye to eye here."

"No, but who wants to see eye to eye when we've got a possible crisis to contend with," she volunteered, grinning.

"Okay, where does he live?"

"I already informed you that I'm perfectly capable of handling this on my own. I don't need any assistance from someone who's apparently become way too whipped for his own-"

"Where does he live, Paige?"

She balked at the request a bit longer than she'd intended to, and her hands continued to linger at her sides in sheer frustration. "I don't know. If I...well, if I had to guess, I'd say it's not far from the law firm. If he’s as much of a screw-up as you said, he also strikes me as the kind of guy that would probably just hate to go out of his way to get to work. But hey, the crime tape should be a dead giveaway, right? I mean, what, are sensing powers suddenly off limits now, too?"

"No, but seeing as I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt here- let's say someone actually wants to kill me again, which, mind you, we're currently not even sure about yet..." He tilted his head, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. "What would be the motive, pray tell, and why are you so interested in it?"

"Maybe I'd like to see them succeed," she added.

"In that case-"

"I'm joking," she reasoned. "Really. I just...I just want to make sure we're off the demon attacking radar for the time being. I mean, Phoebe's got the baby coming, Piper and Leo aren't exactly calling themselves a team these days, and me...face it, we're toast if a demon decides to try anything."

"You?" he inquired.

"Me?"

"You're what?" he prompted.

"I'm still trying to sort things out with Nick," she confessed. "It's not my best effort, I'll grant you, but I'm trying."

"Well, if it's half as bad as you think it is, it's probably going to take some time, or you may as well just throw in the towel and call it quits."

"Wow, way to be optimistic," she observed. "Gold star. Look, it's sex, Cole, and it's not like we're throwing ourselves into couples therapy or anything, because the sex is actually good. It...well it's so good it scares me, okay?"

"So you're upset because it's too good. Well, that's a new one. If it's any consolation, Paige, that should be the least of your qualms right now, and I think I'm failing to see the problem here. Not to mention the fact that that's just a little too much information for me to begin with." He patiently held out a hand, beckoning for her to take it. "Besides, that's what sisters are for. C'mon."

"I've got a power too, you know."

"I know, but it's easier this way. We'll meet up at the same place together, rather than apart. It's safer," he emphasized.

"Fine," she whispered, reluctantly grabbing a hold of it, as she let out a quick breath.

The small house stuck out like a sore thumb along the poorly lit street corner, as both of them shimmered into view, the street lamp lazily flickering in and out of focus amongst the practically deserted patch of landscape. It was a faded white shade in color, although the paint towards the very bottom was slowly peeling away to reveal a rather crusty surface underneath, until it would in all likelihood resemble the ugly shade of brown the lawn had decidedly chosen to take on. Bright yellow crime tape had invaded and taken up space in the doorway, flapping about in the soft breeze that wafted in and out of the night air, warding off any individual who may have wrestled numbly with overwhelming curiosity as they randomly passed by. A tiny calico cat pranced delightfully across the paved driveway, its steps both silent and deadly at the same time, seeking out whatever refuge would welcome it.

"I really thought he could've done better with the salary," Cole commented, as he gave the place a brief once over, a prominent smirk falling across his face.

"Yeah, well, maybe you weren't too far off when you said he might have been into something."

"Might've," he observed. "But probably wasn't. It's nice if you're not looking to be disturbed."

"No cops," she noted, seemingly relieved.

"Yes, and nothing out of the ordinary."

"You're sure?"

"To a human maybe," he finished, winking. "To a former demon, it might just say otherwise. Of course, we always do get the best invitations, don't we?"

"Do you sense anything?" she tried quickly.

He studied it for a moment longer, his blues watching it through narrowed eyes, his generous mouth quietly pursed. "They should have had the others around him evacuated."

"Okay..."

"It would have probably been for the best," he told her. "Either way, I really don't think we should go in there."

"What? Why?" She was unmistakably perplexed on the matter, and she hated to admit that the aggravation that had already built up inside her was just about ready to explode in response to his strange inability to communicate all of a sudden. "Hello? You still there?"

"It's just...I can't-" He shook his head, shaking off the brief shiver he felt go down his spine without warning, a hand just barely touching the front of his ball cap. "I can't seem to get a direct read on it."

"You mean it's like there's a shield of some sort blocking you?" she randomly suggested.

"Maybe."

"Okay, listen, does Phoebe seriously continue to find you attractive when you're this cryptic, because you're really starting to freak me out now."

"Derek was beaten to death, right?"

"Yeah, that's what they said," she answered, shrugging. "I really don't see how his grisly death can tell you anything about the way he keeps house, but hey, I guess there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say the kill wasn't necessarily supernatural in origin. But the motive is going to be a different story altogether."

She raised her hand high like a bemused child in a classroom, obviously needing a great deal more background information pertaining to his recent discovery. "Not following here, dude."

"It's just a hunch," he whispered.

"Okay, Cole. What part of creeping me out didn't you understand before?"

"I have to go," he mumbled, right before he shimmered out of sight again, leaving her there all by herself.

"Dammit," she hissed. "I'm always left with the dirty work." She merely offered a despondent frown in his absence, and orbed out of the area, sincerely irked by his unexpected change in attitude. "He is so going to get it, I swear."

A slender hand drenched in blood curled its wet, dripping fingers around the door frame, as the mysterious figure watched her reluctantly make her exit, its breathing loud and labored in the shadows. A pair of bare feet treaded noiselessly across the cold, barren floor- strands of damp blonde hair cascading down a long and equally bare back, set around a pretty face with wide, blue eyes. Those same eyes began to meticulously absorb their surroundings, and struggled to make sense of them, all the while being plagued by fleeting images from a life that was long past. A pair of full, pale lips gently pried themselves apart, as a set of straight, white teeth etched their reflection in the small windowpane of the front door. "Too much death," it finally spoke, the voice hoarse and still very much unsure of itself as it reached over to touch the doorknob, coating it with the slick metallic stench of blood. "Death and dying."

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