The first hints of dawn color the horizon beyond the city as the camera soars over the old port section before scuttling down into a dank, forbidding alleyway that, yes, is filled with Convenient Shipping Pallets Of Grave Bodily Injury, as we shall soon see. Raige and Phoebe lounge in a gutted, abandoned Humvee convertible -- like, what? -- as they grouch about the lack of both demonic activity and sleep. Piper shushes them, ordering them to maintain focus on the task at hand. Raige and Phoebe greet this bit of instruction with mockery and second-guessing regarding Piper's map calculations. Of course, it's all related to the Dolt's supposedly sneaky behavior as of late, and the three descend into bickering over Piper's refusal to confront the Dolt regarding her suspicions -- suspicions which Phoebe and Raige agree are unfounded. "He's been an angel," Raige opines. "He's been too perfect," Piper counters as she slides into a car seat next to the Feebs, "even for him, and I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop." Piper blathers on about her Issues for another minute or so until Raige rubs her temples and expresses her wish for the demon to attack already, as she's got a "breakfast date" with Li'l Bulging Brody scheduled for later that morning, and she'd like not to be late for it, thank you very much. Ah. Putting your personal life ahead of your responsibilities. Good to know Phoebe's taught you something over the last four years, Raige. Not. The gals babble about whether or not breakfast actually constitutes a date before Phoebe's cell phone chirps. She glances at the caller ID briefly before discarding the phone with a weary sigh. "Avoiding someone?" Piper leads. Phoebe just blinks her eyes by way of response.