UNREQUITED

Summary: When Emily Hargreaves meets Wyatt and Chris Halliwell, she has no idea how complicated her life is about to become. Set in the changed future. It's about life, love and all of that…

Disclaimer: The characters in Charmed do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made. The character of Emily does belong to me though, but she can be borrowed as long as I'm asked first.

Notes: As you've probably realised by now, this will be more adult in tone than my other story, False Memories. That's mainly because of the different subject matter i.e. twenty-somethings in love, rather than familial relationships.

The rating is currently T(13+). However, it could stray into M(16+) in places, so I might up the rating at a later date. Although there'll rarely be anything that you wouldn't see/hear on 'Charmed' itself, please do bear that in mind when reading.

Anyway, warning over, would just like to say thanks for all the reviews so far. Answers to specific reviews can be found at the end of the chapter. Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 3

Emily woke late the next morning, fuzzyheaded and gritty-eyed from lack of sleep. She took a long, hot shower to loosen up her aching muscles, before turning the temperature right down to give her body a refreshing blast of cold water to clear her head and waken up her senses. As a result, she emerged from the bathroom feeling a whole lot more like herself, and ready to face whatever the day had in store for her.

Wandering through into the kitchen, she opened the cupboards to find them almost bare. Damn, she had meant to go to the supermarket yesterday and had clean forgotten. Still, there was always 'Frankie's,' a small bakery/coffee shop situated half a block from her apartment. It served an all-you-can-eat brunch until twelve.

The thought of freshly brewed coffee and warm, newly baked muffins certainly appealed right now, so she grabbed her purse and keys, and headed for the door. Striding purposely down the corridor towards the elevator, she ran slap bang into Wyatt, who was walking in the opposite direction.

"Whoa! Where's the fire?" he teased, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Emily laughed. "Sorry, I was on my way out to Frankie's."

"Hungry huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that. I forgot to go shopping for food yesterday."

"Mind if I join you? I wouldn't mind sampling one of Frankie's apple and cinnamon pastries right now."

"No – you're more than welcome to come along."

"Great!" Wyatt said, falling into step beside her. "Actually, I was on my way to see you. Chris told me what happened last night. He asked me to check if you were okay, said you seemed really shook up by the whole thing."

Emily cringed inwardly; Chris had seen straight through her façade of false courage the previous evening then. "I suppose I was a little freaked out last night but I'm okay now," she assured her companion as the elevator pinged and they stepped inside.

"No repeat occurrences?" Wyatt asked, punching the button for the ground floor.

"No – I guess it was just a one-off."

"Yeah well, I still intend to check it out," the blond witch-whitelighter said firmly. "If there's a demon out there targeting witches, then I need to put a stop to it."

Emily nodded. "Where is Chris anyway?" she asked curiously.

"Out with Bianca," was Wyatt's reply.

"Oh," Emily said, feeling like an idiot for even asking. She should have known. I mean, it was Saturday. Of course, he was out with his girlfriend.

"So, how was the hot date?" she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"Huh?"

"Chris said that was the reason why he had to do the shift at P3 last night."

"I suppose he failed to mention it was actually his turn?"

Emily smiled at the minor note of complaint in Wyatt's voice. "Why do that when he could blame it on you?" she asked lightly as they exited the elevator and left the apartment block by the front entrance.

"Why indeed?" Wyatt commented wryly. "My little brother just loves to play the martyr."

Emily laughed. "The spare's prerogative, I suppose."

"I'm not following."

"The heir and spare?" she explained, then shrugged. "It was just something Chris said last night."

Wyatt stared at her incredulously. "He actually still looks at it like that?" he asked.

"Err…," Emily baulked at answering, realising she might have inadvertently opened her mouth a little too wide – wide enough to put her foot in it anyway.

Wyatt shook his head in disbelief. "I thought we'd sorted all that out years ago," he said, half to himself. "He knows I couldn't do this without him."

"Look," Emily cut in, trying to smooth things over. "I don't think he was all that serious about it. He was sort of joking around at the time."

Her companion nodded, obviously not entirely convinced. "Sorry, I shouldn't be dumping all our family issues on you," he apologised. "Let's change the subject, shall we?"

"Okay," Emily quickly agreed. "So, you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"The hot date?"

"Oh that," Wyatt said. A beat, then, "Okay, I guess."

"So, will you be calling her again?" Emily prompted, when he didn't offer any further information.

Wyatt thought on it for a moment. "No, I don't think so. I mean, it wasn't a disaster but…"

"There was no real spark?"

Wyatt cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows at her. "Nosey, aren't ya?"

"Yeah – Little Miss Sticky-Beak, that's me," Emily replied airily, utterly unrepentant about prying.

Wyatt threw her an amused sidelong glance. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, there wasn't much chemistry going on," he told her. "Unfortunately," he added as an afterthought.

"Why was she a super hottie or something?"

"You think I'm that shallow?"

"No, I don't," Emily replied, serious now. "I was just wondering why it's such a big deal that the date bombed. I mean, come on, you're Wyatt Halliwell, you must have…"

"Women falling at my feet all the time?" Wyatt finished the sentence for her.

"Well – yeah."

Wyatt looked away, shaking his head. "Maybe I do. The trouble is most of them don't see me. All they see is my reputation. Wyatt Halliwell, first-born son of a Charmed One and her whitelighter, the most powerful magical being that ever existed," he intoned, his lips twisting ironically. "There's more to me than that though – a whole lot more."

"I can see that," Emily said sincerely.

"Yes, you can," Wyatt said, fixing his blue eyes on her face, "Because you're one of those rare people, who are willing to look past the name to the person inside. There's not many people like you around though, Emily - certainly not in the magical community anyway."

"So look beyond it."

Wyatt let out a short laugh. "I wish it were that easy. That just isn't an option open to me though. I may not like it sometimes, but I still believe in what my family does. I don't want to run away from my destiny, far from it. And I won't lie about who I am, least of all to someone that I love."

Emily nodded in understanding. "That makes sense, I guess. Honesty is the cornerstone of all good relationships."

Wyatt looked at her then, suddenly realising how easily she'd gotten him to open up about himself. "I can't believe I'm actually telling you all of this," he said. "I mean, I hardly know you. I'm not normally so trusting, so quickly. There's just something about you though…" he trailed off, his forehead creasing into a thoughtful frown.

"I've always believed that we're destined to cross paths with certain people in our lives," Emily said contemplatively. "Ever since I was about fifteen, I've felt this incredible pull towards San Francisco. I've always wanted to live here, only it's taken me this long to work up the courage to leave my family and relocate."

"So maybe I was destined to move into the apartment below you and Chris. Maybe we were always meant to meet…" Emily stopped and laughed at herself. "God! Listen to me. I sound crazy, don't I? As if a two-bit witch like me would ever be destined to be part of your life."

"I don't think you sound crazy," Wyatt told her. "My Dad is always telling us that we should trust what our gut is telling us about things - because, more often than not, it's right. My instinct tells me to trust you, and Chris's must too. I mean, he's way more paranoid than I am, and he hasn't once suggested we check your background out."

"Well, you can check it out all you want. It's really not that interesting," Emily replied. "My life so far is not much to write home about, believe me."

"You shouldn't sell yourself so short."

"I'm not. I mean, get this, I'm supposed to have powers, but they don't even work - much to Daddy's relief as it happens."

"How do you mean?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Emily asked over her shoulder as they reached Frankie's and went inside.

Wyatt nodded as he followed her into the small, friendly coffee shop. "Yeah, I'm sure," he said. "How about we sit down and order some food first though?"

"Works for me - I'm starved."

Ten minutes later, the two of them were safely ensconced in a booth in the corner, mugs of hot, steaming coffee in front of them, and a large platter laden with a myriad of different flavoured croissants, muffins and pastries on the table between them.

"So you were saying?" Wyatt asked, taking a generous bite out of the apple and cinnamon pastry that he'd been hankering after.

Emily cut the warm, breakfast muffin on her plate in half, spread it with butter, and then took a bite out of it as she gathered her thoughts.

"My Mom's the witch," she began slowly. "My Dad – he's mortal and, although he knows what she is, he's not all that comfortable with it. I suppose my Mom toned down her, umm, activities, after they got married. She only uses her powers sparingly and very rarely practises magic anymore. She's never lied to me about my heritage, but she's never encouraged me to explore it either – out of respect for Dad's feelings, I suppose."

Emily paused to take another bite of her muffin and a sip of her coffee. "Don't get me wrong – my Dad's a good man, I don't believe he ever asked her to stop. I guess she just made that sacrifice because she loved him so much."

Wyatt nodded in understanding. "And what about you?"

"To be honest, being a witch wasn't really something I was that interested in until I left High School. When I went to college though, I had the freedom to explore that side of myself. My experimentation wasn't exactly successful however. As I said, my powers don't work and every spell I cast always seemed to have to opposite effect to what I was intending. I bet you and Chris never had that problem."

"Go tell my parents that," Wyatt said with a chuckle. "We've managed to get ourselves into all sorts of scrapes over the years. I think we had Mom and Dad tearing their hair out on many an occasion."

Emily smiled. "Anyway, in the end I gave up trying. It's just that, however hard I pretend otherwise, being a witch is part of who I am. I still want to explore that but I don't know where to start."

"Maybe that's the reason," Wyatt said cryptically.

"The reason for what?"

"Meeting me and Chris," he explained. "I think you need a whitelighter to guide you."

"And you can help me find one?"

Wyatt smiled. "You're sitting right opposite one," he pointed out. "Because we're descended from the Halliwell line, people tend to think of Chris and I as witches. But, our father is an Elder and a former whitelighter, so, ultimately, we're just as much whitelighters as we are witches."

Emily nodded. "I'd never really thought about it like that."

"My wiccan side is probably the stronger of the two," Wyatt admitted. "But, it's the other way round with Chris. He's much more whitelighterish than me."

"Is whitelighterish even a word?" Emily asked with a giggle.

"It is now, I invented it," was Wyatt's quick-as-a-flash reply.

Emily grinned at him, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "So you think you can help me?"

"If you want to get involved in what we do, I can easily find you something useful to do. If you're willing to help out, that is."

"I am."

"Good. So tell me what your powers are then."

Emily sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I'm supposed to be telekinetic," she said. "Although, not like Chris. I mean, he slammed that demon against the wall last night as if he weighed nothing more than a feather. I've seen my Mom do it once or twice, and it's more like she floats stuff, rather than throws it."

Wyatt nodded. "Anything else?"

Emily shook her head. "Not really," she said, "At least not anything active anyway. As I understand it, our family have always been potion-makers – we're supposed to have a specific talent for it. I guess the telekinesis is so we don't have to reach things down from the cupboard all the time."

"You know as strange as that sounds, it does make some sort of sense," Wyatt said with a chuckle. "So why do you think your powers don't work?"

"I don't know really," Emily replied. "With the telekinesis, it's like it's blocked somehow. I know I have it because when I try to move something with my mind, I can feel the power building inside. It's there but I just can't do anything with it."

"I'll get Chris to help you with that," the blond witch-whitelighter decided. "He understands how telekinesis works better than I do."

"You don't have it?" Emily asked curiously.

Her companion shook his head. "Not in the pure sense, no."

"I don't understand."

Wyatt looked around, checking that no one was watching them. Then, holding out his hand, palm up, he spoke the word "Athame" in a commanding tone. With a tinkling orb sound and a swirl of blue lights, the ceremonial knife immediately appeared in his outstretched hand.

"Orbing objects doesn't work quite the same as real telekinesis," he explained as he tucked the dagger into his jacket pocket, "Even if the effect is essentially the same."

The sight of the familiar athame sent chills down Emily's spine. "Did you find out anything about the demon?" she asked apprehensively.

Her companion shook his head. "Not yet. I was hoping you could give me a better description of him than Chris did." He gestured at the food in front of them. "You had enough?"

At Emily's affirmative nod, Wyatt called over the waitress and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.

"My treat," he said as she started to search in her bag for her money.

"I can't let you do that," she protested.

"Sure you can," he replied. "Call it payment for services if you like."

"I'm sorry?" Emily looked up at him, shocked.

Wyatt laughed. "I need your help to identify and track down this demon," he explained. "What else did you think I meant?"

Emily blushed. "I think maybe I shouldn't answer that," she said, her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

"Contrary to popular opinion, I do not go around seducing every pretty white witch that I lay my eyes on, you know."

"Okay, so can we change the subject please?"

"Why? It was just getting interesting."

"You're not funny, you know that?"

Wyatt shot her a mischievous grin, and then stood up from the table. "Come on, let's go."

Emily followed him outside, not entirely sure whether he'd actually been flirting – did he just say she was pretty? - or just plain teasing her. It was hard to tell to be honest. Her own reaction to the possibility wasn't all that straightforward either.

With her attraction to Chris – which she could no longer pretend didn't exist - it was relatively simple. He had a girlfriend, whom he clearly loved, aka he was out of bounds and recipe for a broken heart if ever there was one.

Wyatt, on the other hand, was good-looking, obviously nice guy, and…beckoning her into a dark alleyway. She cautiously followed him, wrinkling her nose at the rank smell of garbage emanating from the metal dumpster that stood against one wall.

"Sorry, we need to be out of sight," Wyatt said, noting her expression, "Exposing magic in a public place? So not a good idea."

Emily nodded in partial understanding. She saw the need for concealment but what magic was he talking about? She got her answer when Wyatt waved his hand at her, and she was immediately engulfed in the same tingling sensation that she'd experienced the night before, when Chris had orbed her home.

Her surroundings changed and she braced herself, waiting for the dizziness to descend. However, although her head swam a little, the feeling soon passed. She guessed orbing was something that your body got accustomed to fairly quickly.

"I thought you needed physical contact to orb someone other than yourself," she said, remembering what Chris had told her the previous evening.

"My brother does," Wyatt replied. "It works a little differently with me though."

Looking about, Emily found herself in a square room with sloping ceilings, obviously an attic, given the old furniture and boxes of clutter that filled the space. Sunlight streamed in through a stained glass window, casting coloured shadows about the room. A large lectern stood in the centre of the attic, the resting place for an ancient book, whose pages were crinkled and yellowing with age.

"Where are we?" she asked, although she thought she already knew the answer.

Wyatt looked at her and smiled. "Home," he said simply.

To be continued…

P.S. I forgot to say – I live in the UK and only have terrestrial TV, which essentially means I haven't seen Season 7 yet. I do have a vague idea of what happens though (can't resist reading the odd spoiler!). However, as Wyatt mentioned above, Leo is still an Elder here. Although, after everything that happened with Gideon, he's not exactly… well, wait and see:-)

Re: Martina G: This is essentially Chris and Wyatt's show. However, because the boys are still very close to their family, the Charmed Ones, and Leo, do make guest appearances from time to time. Actually, one of them was meant to be in this chapter, but Emily and Wyatt's conversation went on longer than I intended, so they've ended up in the next part instead!