She sat against the drywall, waiting patiently for her friends to come and assist her; she'd just hoped that Chris wasn't with them. It was freeing, she'd hated to admit, to be in her demon form for more than just a few minutes.

A demon that she hadn't recognized was pacing through the apartment, consistently muttering about how badly he wanted the child. She'd tuned him out, by now, knowing she wouldn't get anywhere in a conversation.

He grabbed her face harshly, "I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you don't do what I ask."

She snatched her head away from his grasp, his reptile-reminiscent skin making her stomach churn with disgust. "Buddy, I'm Balthazor's older sister." She began, her gaze locked outside of the window, "No matter how much you throw me around, threaten me, whatever else you might contemplate doing — it won't do shit to me. You're lucky that I'm bored, or else you'd be dead, by now. You're not even a Manticore, so why do you want the kid?"

"That's none of your business."

"Well, considering I've been the one taking care of him all day, it kind of is." She shrugged, "Also, what's up with the house?"

He didn't answer, just continued to pace back and forth. CJ had already tried the door, but it was no use; he'd managed to cloak the house in magic, meaning she couldn't necessarily blink out. Plus, that would raise questions from Chris, and she was not in the mood to be hunted by a whitelighter with a vengeance against every demon to exist.

She noticed a shattered picture frame of a man on the ground, next to a baby toy, and her interest peaked. She wasn't fancying another conversation, though, so she remained silent and continued to stare through the window.

...

Moonlight bled through the window, illuminating her pale face as Chris layed her onto her bed. He looked at her, relief that she was okay rushing through his veins; her black-painted eyelids were shut, and her face was full of tranquility. He knew that she'd be devastated at the absence of the child once she woke up, but he was happy to see her at peace in the moment.

Her button nose twitched, and she'd begun to clench her eyelids shut further. Her breathing picked up, and Chris immediately sat on the bed and grabbed her hand. She continued to twitch, her breathing patterns growing irregular; he'd heard her speak about the nightmares she'd have, but she'd never go into detail around him.

"Hey," he whispered, "you're okay. I'm right here, Carina, I won't let anything happen to you."

She ultimately calmed down, her grip on his hand tight; he tried releasing her hand, but she'd only begun to breathe irregular again when he did. He sighed, kicking off his shoes, and laying next to her. If she woke up, he would be at the other end of her anger, and considering the day's events, he wasn't necessarily okay with leaving her alone.

He pulled the blanket over them, causing the witch to grumble in her sleep as she turned and placed her head on his chest. Her hand grasped his shirt tightly, and he shifted uncomfortably before reluctantly staying in bed with his shirt on.

He was so going to pick on her about this in the morning.

...

When CJ woke up with Chris next to her, she'd made a point to avoid him like the plague for the rest of the day. She changed, did her makeup, and snuck out of her room while he was still asleep.

Now, in his domain, in P3, she was finding it very difficult to avoid him. Every where she turned, she saw him in the distance; sometimes he was just sitting at the bar, other times he was chatting with the sisters, and there were only a handful of moments when they'd make eye contact.

She was wearing a pink, yellow, and orange dress with matching gloves. The side was cut out, and she had way too much faith in the left covering over her breast. She moved with ease in her platform boots, having wore them regularly. Her hair was straightened, and she'd done her makeup to match her dress.

She felt his eyes on her, watching intently as she danced with random men and women on the dance floor. CJ was just about to take a sip of her drink, when Chris jumped out of nowhere and sent a right-hook toward the guy she was dancing with; in the process, he knocked her cup out of her hand, and she looked at her spilled drink with wide eyes as she recognized the change of color that her drink was in the middle of experiencing.

She quickly snapped back into reality, pulling the brunette off of him, and shoving Chris toward the office. She shut the door behind them, staring at the whitelighter with fury in her eyes.

"What'd you pull me off, for?!" He yelled, motioning toward the door. "I wasn't done."

"Because if I would've let you keep going, you would've ended up killing an innocent!"

"He is not an innocent, Carina!" Chris yelled, "He tried drugging you, for fucks sake!"

CJ sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't care. Chris, you would have killed him."

"So?" He waved his arms in exaggerated manner, "God, what's up with you? You don't let me leave you alone in your sleep, and now you push me around when I save you from a dickhead in the club."

"You're not my whitelighter, Chris!" She yelled, furrowing her brows at the green eyed man. "Stop acting like it!"

"I'm not acting like your whitelighter, I'm acting like a normal person!" He fired back, "You need to stop putting yourself in danger! You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"You think I don't know that?" The charcoal haired woman asked, furrowing her brows irritably. "Regardless of how much danger I'm in, I'm not your fucking charge! Stop bossing me around and acting like I am!" She turned to leave the office, but was quickly stopped.

"Carina!" Chris exclaimed, orbing in front of the door and leaning against the frame, preventing her from opening it. He looked at her, his eyes twinkling with irritation and shock because he'd never seen her so angry, it'd caught him off guard. Slowly, he approached her; she backed up, the back of her legs colliding with the desk as he had stopped a foot away from her. Their gaze met, and he could see the small bit of pain and secrecy swirling in her eyes.

"You're so aggravating." He spoke, his voice full of irritation, confusion, and slight traces of sympathy. He lowered his face to meet hers, the ghost of her minty breath gently grazing his lip due to their close proximity. His arms rested on each side of her, holding him up as he leant forward against the desk. "The only reason I'm not your whitelighter, is because the Elders won't give you one, and no one will tell me why. God, it's like you want to be killed."

CJ gulped, looking to her fingers. "Maybe I do." She muttered, before looking back up into his jade green eyes. "But, that's honestly not a very important discussion — and none of your business."

Chris furrowed his brows; they stood frozen for a moment. She wasn't alive in his future, and he'd silently vowed to never let her wish come true; even if it wasn't the future he'd wanted to return to, he couldn't live with the thought of losing such an incredible witch.

"I'm not letting that happen, Carina."

"You don't have a say." She muttered, turning her body toward the door, and walking away from him; just as her hand connected with the knob, she looked at the man over her shoulder. He was aggravated, his hands resting on top of his head as he faced the desk. "Chris?"

He turned toward her, his eyes glowing with so many different emotions. "What?" He asked, throwing his arms outward as he shrugged.

"One day, it's going to happen — and you're not going to care as much as you think you will." She said, before exiting the office, leaving the man confused and even more annoyed.