Manor kitchen. As Piper dabs ointment onto Chris's wounds, she asks Raige to phone the club to let them know she'll be a little late. Chris objects, insisting Piper remain in the Manor until the present danger has passed and suggesting Raige take her place at P3. Raige objects, insisting that she return to her temp job, as "that's how people who need [her] help find [her]," and suggests summoning the Dolt. Neither Chris nor Piper likes that idea at all, though for different reasons. Piper simply wants to avoid confronting her ex-husband regarding her current pregnancy, about which he supposedly remains unaware, despite the fact that the ever-useless Elders are supposed to know everything about the fricking Charmed Ones, but whatever. Raige babbles something about not wanting to insist upon a family reunion until Chris, who'd been repeatedly touching his neck in pain through all of this, finally explodes with, "He has been gone for SIX MONTHS. If he's not there for us in the future, why is he there for us now?" Piper, as appalled with the utterly nonsensical construction of that outburst as I am, weakly passes a hand across her face and toddles over to collapse into a chair at the breakfast table. Raige caves and agrees to head over to P3, leaving Chris with instructions to work on the vanquishing potion, and to call his aunts once he's finished with it. Raige exits as Chris offers to put away the medicine kit. He snaps the box shut, then notes with quiet alarm that the thing's sticking to the palm of his hand. He shoots a glance in Piper's direction, and, once he's confirmed she's not paying any attention to him, tries to pull his right hand away by forcing the box down with his left. Of course, the box is now stuck to both hands. Chris darts his eyes around, all, "Oh, shit."
[72virg=ins], which has been renamed "Café Blue" at some point in the last five years. Phoebe's lunch date impatiently checks his watch as she straggles in from the street clad in a hideous knit poncho with matching cloche. She jiggles over to Mitch's table, naturally attracting the amorous attention of nearly every male patron on the patio while yodeling out an excuse for her tardiness: "Last time I ride BART for a while." Wait for it. "The train, not the guy." Ba-dum-bump. The rest of the short scene that follows is no better, and in fact is absolutely pointless, so let's cut to the chase, shall we? Phoebe gets Mitch's name wrong, then proceeds to latch onto his arm to force a premonition regarding their future together. Getting nothing, she rudely thanks him for his time and rises to bolt. As she spins around from the table, though, she nearly rams into Big Gay Chris, who's looking considerably worse for the wear. He's ashen, sweaty, shivering, and squinting uncomfortably in the sunlight. Phoebe expresses concern, wondering what the hell happened to him. Chris fills her in on recent events, so Phoebe tosses a hasty "Take care, Mark!" over her shoulder before racing out of the restaurant. Big Chris, however, is distracted by a buzzing horsefly. He stares at it for a moment before snatching it out of the air. His hand even makes a nifty whip-cracking noise as he does so. He slowly opens his palm to gaze in wonder at the insect until Phoebe calls out, "You coming, or what?" "Yeah," he mutters absently, turning to follow her.