"You did what?" Phoebe Halliwell shrieked.

Her sister Piper winced at the high noise. "It's not that big a deal," she said.

"Not a big deal? Not a big deal?" Phoebe's voice was breaking into an octave only dogs could hear.

"Phoebe just chill." Piper snapped irritably. They were in P3, Piper's nightclub, cleaning shot glasses and Piper didn't want her sister to scare away customers.

"Fine I'll chill." Phoebe crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "I'm chill. In fact, I'm downright cold. Now tell me what the hell you were thanking." Her voice was back to normal but Piper could see in her eyes that she was not happy.

"I was thinking that this is all my faul! t." Phoebe opened her mouth to protest but Piper cut her off. "No Phoebes, it really is. He got his wings clipped for saving me. And now he has no one and nowhere to go."

"Oh honey," Phoebe cooed, wrapping her sister in a hug, "don't blame yourself. Leo saved you because he wanted to, not because he had to. Piper shrugged, a little comforted. "But really," Phoebe continued, "couldn't you have set him up some job interviews? It'll be so awkward having here."

"And he'd sleep where? On the street?" Piper shook her head. "This is the only way."

"Fine," Phoebe gave in. She looked around curiously. "Where is he anyway?"

Piper put her clean glasses in a box and pulled a box of dirty ones toward her. "He's at the bank," she said.

Just then, Leo walked down the steps. He spotted the sisters sitting at the bar and hurried over to them. "I deposited the money," he told Piper. She thanked him briefly, and he grabbed the box of clean glasses and carried i! t to the supply closet.

"I guess it is helpful to have him around," Phoebe remarked, "But did his voice sound weird to you?"

"A little," Piper said, "but maybe his mortal voice is just more nasal than his whitelighter voice."

"That's probably it," Phoebe agreed.

"Any big plans for tonight?" Piper asked.

"What's tonight?"

"It's Valentines day," Piper told her," Dan back of her chair and ran up the stairs and out the door.

Phoebe finished the shot glasses alone, not having anything to do on the day of love. Just as she set the last one in the box, Leo rushed past her and out the door. "Leo?" she called, but he was already gone.

She was bored, so she decided to go after him. She grabbed her coat and ran after him. As hard as it was to run in heels, he wasn't walking very fast and she easily caught up.

"Hi Leo," she greeted him breathlessly after her jog. He nodded a greeting. "Not feeling chatty?" she teased. He j! ust shrugged. "Come on," she groaned playfully, "you gotta give me something to work with."

"Wouldn't it be less awkward if I didn't talk?" he asked with a small smile.

Phoebe blushed. "How much did you hear?" she asked.

"I got back in time to hear 'by the way, I hired Leo.'"

"So you stood behind a door and listened to us? That's slightly stalker-ish."

He didn't say anything for a while, and Phoebe gazed up at his face in concern. "Leo?" His face was screwed up and his eyes were scrunched up tight. Afraid he was in a ton of pain, Phoebe touched his arm worriedly. "Leo?"

Her touch shocked him out of his trance and he snapped forward with a harsh "HETCHEWWW!"

"Bless y-" Phoebe began, but her blessing was cut short by Leo sneezing again. He cupped his hands around his nose and mouth and kept sneezing loudly for nearly a minute.

Finally, red faced and panting, he was done. "Uh, bless you," Phoebe offe! red. "You OK?"

Leo nodded. "I'm fine." He sniffled wetly and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "Although I'd love a handkerchief if you have one."

Phoebe rummaged through the pockets of her alligator skin jacket, eventually coming up with a handful of napkins. She handed them to the former angel, who mad her turn around so her could blow his nose.

They started walking. They didn't have a destination in mind. They didn't have anything to talk about. They just walked aimlessly in silence, broken only by Leo's increasingly frequent bouts of sneezing ("road dust, I'm sure.") and the sound of Phoebes stilettos rhythmically hitting the concrete.

They'd been walking for about 15 minutes when Leo started coughing. He quickly found that he couldn't stop, and sat down on the sidewalk while Phoebe rubbed her hand soothingly up and down his back until it passed.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Phoebe asked. He nodded, throat too sore to talk, but sh! e didn't buy it. She pressed her impeccably manicured hand against his sweaty forehead. "You're burning up," she gasped, then his him on the side of the head. "How stupid are you?" she demanded. "why are you walking around when you're this sick?"

"I didn't want to get you sick." He rubbed the side of his head gingerly. "Didn't know you'd follow me."

"Oh." Now Phoebe felt bad. "Come on." She led him in a new direction. This time she had a destination in mind, and smiled in satisfaction when they reached it.

"We're at the manner," Leo said, "what are we doing here?"

"Don't ask questions," Phoebe ordered as they walked inside, "just sit down." She pushed him onto a couch in her family's living room. He bounced off and landed on the ground. He groaned as he climbed back on, and glared at Phoebe as she giggled. "Sorry."

"Phoebe I'm home," Prue called. She walked in the living room and dropped her purse on the coffee table. "You'll never believe wh! at happened at Brickman's. This man brought in a fake Van Gogh and what is Leo doing in our living room?" She didn't give Phoebe a chance to answer, before turning to Leo himself. "Hi Leo. What are you doing in our living room?"

"Phoebe brought me here," he rasped.

"Can we keep him?" Phoebe joked. Prue didn't appreciate the joke. "Leo's sick and I brought him home for soup," she said.

"Leo's sick?"

"Leo's fine," Leo interjected, "it's just a cold." His words didn't hold much credence as his face crumbled in a fashion Phoebe was getting very used to. "ETCHIOO!"

Prue felt his forehead. "He's sick, you're right. Can we make soup?"

"Canned soup."

"Do we have canned soup?"

"Canned soup's a staple. Everyone has canned soup."

"Everyone doesn't live with Piper 'everything-must-be-from-scratch' Halliwell."

"Good point, I'll go look." Phoebe walked into the well stocked kitchen and left Prue and Phoebe a! lone.

"I'm fine," he told Prue, "you guys don't need to take care of m..m ATCHUU!"

"You have quite a sneeze," she told him.

"AHA! We have soup!" Phoebe came out of the kitchen holding a small dusty can of cambells chicken-noodle soup. "You just boil it, right?"

Leo shook his head. "I don't need soup. I'm Ok, you don't need to take care of me."

Phoebe sat down on the couch next to him and put the soup on the coffee table. "Last week our sister got really sick and you helped her. Let us return the favor." She stood up and covered Leo with a blanket, before taking her can and heading to the kitchen.

Prue and Leo sat in the living room alone. Prue turned on the television and they watched mindless cartoons for longer than it should take to cook soup. They only change came when Piper barged in the front door holding a bouquet of red roses. Prue explained the situation to her and she too felt his forehead and commented on the vo! lume of his sneeze.

"Hey Piper?" Phoebe called, "should soup be this chunky?"

Everyone looked up when Phoebe asked that. Piper ran into the kitchen to help, and Prue laughed at the scared look on Leo's face.

"Enjoy the soup," Prue chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. He groaned and rubbed his nose in response.

"Can't wait," he quipped.

"Hey Leo," Piper said from the kitchen.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks again for saving me last week."

"You're welcome."

"And Leo?"

"Hmm?"

Piper came out of the kitchen with a mug of tea for him, homemade soup shimmering on the stove. "Happy Valentines Day."