Third Time Charmed

Size Matters (Part 4)

"Where are you? You can't have gone that far," the greasy-faced, disheveled man sneered as he retrieved a flashlight and began scouring the floor of the rundown house for a sign of his quarry.

Prue, who had managed to flee and hide behind the leg of a table, was now calling for help at as loud a decibel as she dared, "Leo! Leo!" It was no use. Her call wouldn't be heard like this, even if volume mattered when signaling for her Whitelighter. Leo would detect her if he were able. Being so small must have other side effects.

When the man's footsteps moved her way, the beam of his torch directed at her hiding place, seconds from discovering her, Prue had no choice but to make a dash for a nearby sofa, under which she would have better cover. When she ran, he spotted her. "I see you," he declared, taking two ground-shaking steps in her direction and reaching for her.

With a telekinetically boosted front tuck, Prue somersaulted over his log-sized fingers and out of his reach. Marveling at how far she had moved her tiny body, she disappeared under the dust ruffle of the ancient piece of furniture, relieved that her powers were still working.

"Why, you little witch! We'll see how long you last," said the man, wandering off in search of something to aid in her capture, no doubt.

"Well, if the mountain won't come to Muhammad..." Prue whispered to herself, deciding she would need to go get help. She felt her head drooping as her astral self sought out the manor. When her mind manifested, however, it wasn't home that she found. Still minuscule, Prue had appeared in the middle of a busy intersection, where she turned in surprise to find a car tire heading right for her.

She released her power and returned to her real body before she became mental roadkill. "Damn it," Prue cursed, adrenaline surging through her, her heart racing. Despite her earlier acrobatic achievement, it seemed her powers had shrunk along with her body. No wonder Leo hadn't shown. He probably couldn't even Sense her. She sneaked a peek at her captor.

The man was making a meal of retrieving something. When he straightened up, revealing the nozzle of an industrial vacuum cleaner, Prue's heart sank. How was she going to get out of this one?

She could have kicked herself for allowing Leo to guilt her into investigating Paige's hunch. Wait, Paige! She would be coming to meet her soon. Prue shook her head, laughing quietly to herself despite the situation. If she was banking on Paige coming to her rescue, she really must be in trouble.

***

Treat gestured at P3's new waitresses as if to say, 'ta-dah,' looking from them to Piper with anticipation.

Piper didn't know how to react, her expression fluctuating between shock, confusion, and faux approval. The new uniform—a black crop top that even Phoebe would have called risqué, with matching hot pants—didn't just leave little to the imagination; it adorned a new logo featuring the words, 'The Spot' in pink, on top of a glittery silver circle. Was this an example design that Treat had used on a previous project, or was he planning something bigger?

"Woo! Now, that's what I'm talking about," said the new manager, either admiring his handiwork or the scantily clad waitresses, it wasn't clear which.

"You're changing the name of the club?" Piper guessed, given how Treat had shown to have no qualms about overstepping his authority so far.

"Man, you know that's the plan. You know?"

"What's wrong with P3?"

Treat chuckled derisively, then explained, "Well, you know, we polled people, and most of them thought it was a parking level. Nobody knows what it stands for."