2024 cont.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed in her bedroom, Bianca stared out the sliding door to the view of the Bay Bridge she had been afforded, not doing anything in particular except thinking over her encounter with Chris. In her mind she was trying to determine that which she did not know, the exact reason behind their dislike of one another. One five minute encounter with Chris was not going to help her determine in any way whether it was simply a personality clash or something more. She couldn't even work out why Chris said it was bad for her to hang around Wyatt; why he'd even insinuate that she was, and probably had been, hurt. Physically, yes, she knew that was a possibility – it was part of the job – but she knew from previous experience that she fared a lot worse on her own. Mentally and emotionally he had not affected her at all, not like Michael. He'd never been manipulative, always allowing her to do her own thing, and he'd been more than generous towards her. In no way could she view Wyatt as a threat, or someone who was even remotely likely to betray her. He had her trust, he had earned that much over the passing years.

Stepping outside she found it was overcast, the distilled grey clouds pushing their way through the sky as if they were slow moving peak hour trams filled with people and caught in some bizarre traffic jam. The wind whipped around her face, causing her hair to brush across her cheeks. There was a certain freeness to this. She closed her eyes in thought, taking in the sensation, her hands on the banister as she leant forward into the breeze. It almost felt as easy as to fly away from here, to fall without landing.

Pushing herself up and away from the balcony, she knew she needed to distract herself somehow. She shimmered to Wyatt's only to discover he wasn't there, his absence pervading the place with a certain deadly silence. Taking a rough estimation as to where he could be, she shimmered to the manor, appearing just around the corner from the large house. It was the safest place to materialize now that the museum was open and running. Casually she made her way towards the front of the house, hearing two voices and then seeing two male figures. She slowed her pace, approaching them cautiously, realising it was Wyatt and Chris, her ears straining to hear the argumentative conversation as it drifted her way.

"Why can't I go in?" Chris asked, indicating towards the door. "You let everyone else in, as long as they're happy, paying customers. This is my home too!"

"No, it's not. You never cared about it, little brother. You gave up that right long ago."

Folding his arms, Chris began to orb out. Knowing what he was up to, Wyatt waved his hand at the orbs, the upward momentum now drifting sideways and back to the ground as Chris reappeared. Landing on his backside, his hands squarely against the ground as he lifted his head to glare at Wyatt, he brought up his right hand and swept it in Wyatt's direction, the smirk fading from Wyatt's face as he found only air underneath his feet, his back soon connecting with the front door. Running the last few steps, Bianca held her hand out to help Wyatt up.

"That was uncalled for," Wyatt said to Chris, dusting himself off as he stood again, arching his back to make sure it was still okay.

"Just because you've spent your whole life being a bully, doesn't mean someone else can't," Chris retaliated.

"I wasn't 'bullying' you. I was stopping you from going where I told you not to, magical or otherwise… that includes orbing."

Chris looked to Bianca as if searching for help. "You see what he does? Does he give you a free pass to this?"

"Don't talk to her," Wyatt warned.

"I already have," Chris said dryly, looking back to Wyatt. "And at least you weren't there to interrupt that time."

Bianca did not see the look of fire in Wyatt's eyes, the one that passed from Chris to her. She was still far too annoyed with Chris, her sole attention focused on him.

"At least I don't have to be concerned for my safety – there's no body of water nearby," she commented sarcastically.

"I already told you, I wasn't trying to kill you," Chris tried to explain.

"It'd take more than that to kill me," Bianca retorted defiantly.

At this, Wyatt reached forward, the interior of his hand at Chris' jugular, his fingers wrapping crudely around his neck and pressing into the skin as he lifted him into the air, his eyes blazing as he looked up at his younger brother struggling for breath.

"Do I need to threaten you? Don't go around behind my back trying to assassinate my team members because your heart isn't in our cause."

"I wasn't," Chris managed to choke out, his hands trying to peel Wyatt's fingers away as he swung his legs and tried to wriggle his body free, eventually succeeding as Wyatt loosened his hold. "I wouldn't want to play any part in your self-satisfying games, not if my life depended on it."

"Don't make it sound so futile," Wyatt said, working his hand as he slowly lowered it by his side.

"Destroying half the city isn't nothing," Chris argued. "It's narcissistic, especially when you're doing it for your own purposes. You can't be king of the world, Wyatt. It doesn't work like that."

"Keep pushing, Chris," Wyatt warned. "Next thing you know you'll be orbed to somewhere remotely vile, and I won't hesitate to send you somewhere halfway across the world."

Looking back to Bianca and seeing that she was not going to dispute the suggestion, Chris shook his head in provocation. Turning, he began to walk away, stopping halfway down the front lawn as he glanced over his shoulder back towards Wyatt.

"Hope I'm not banned from walking either, since you don't want me to orb anywhere," he said bitterly.

Wyatt lifted his hand, then thought better of it as he realised Chris was probably expecting him to throw him or orb him away somewhere, hence also effectively proving whatever point his younger brother was trying to make to Bianca about him. Turning his palm towards Chris, he mockingly wiggled his fingers.

"Bye," he said childishly. "Enjoy the journey."

"He doesn't understand what we're doing, does he?" Bianca queried.

"My brother, unfortunately, fails to see the bigger picture. He lets his personal feelings blindside the truth to the matter. He thinks in the short term – therefore he believes I'm just being destructive if I stop one person. He doesn't see that by stopping one person, I stop the next; I stop things from getting worse. I'm improving things for our future." Giving Bianca a look of concern, he suggested: "I think you should stay at my place tonight. I don't want you to be on your own in case he comes after you again. I can't lose my best ally."

"I can handle it," Bianca snapped.

"I didn't say you couldn't. But I know my brother; I know what he's capable of. My only concern was your safety which would be vastly improved in my company."

Bianca settled back, her eyes showing the determination she felt at having to prove herself, having to show him that she held no signs of weakness, that she was as skilled as he believed her to be.

"I don't need a protector," she said. "I can look after myself. I got through the last one unscathed, didn't I?"

"Mr Halliwell, there you are!" a middle-aged brunette woman said, poking her head out the door. "I was wondering where you got to. You're not usually this late. The new staff are inside if you'd care to join us."

Not even giving the woman a second glance as he looked over Bianca's face, he stepped back, shifting his jaw slightly as he silently agreed to what she wanted. Turning towards the woman in the doorway, he followed her inside, leaving Bianca on the front stoop. Bianca watched him go inside, her gaze shifting back to the empty blank space before her where he had been standing. Glancing around quickly to ensure she wasn't noticed, she shimmered back to her apartment, heading into the kitchen to brew up some coffee – thinking that it may be a long night ahead if she was going to have to keep watch. The minutes that passed did not even reach double figures before a stream of orbs entered her living room, the blue light shining straight through into the kitchen where she was. Turning to look out the doorway, placing everything on the counter before she went to the opening, she saw standing in front of her not Wyatt, as she had expected, but Chris.

"This doesn't give me any kind of assurance that you're not following me," Bianca said, placing her hand on the doorframe and leaning against it.

"Is Wyatt here?" he asked, inspecting the interior with paranoia.

"No."

"Good, that gives us a chance to talk."

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say," Bianca said, turning back into the kitchen.

"You don't think it's possible I'm telling the truth?" he asked, stepping into the doorway.

"Not in the slightest," Bianca replied, spinning the mug in her hands over the countertop. She looked up to him. "And I'm not interested in your personal vendettas."

"Is that all you think this is about? Sibling rivalry?" Chris questioned. Bianca kept staring but didn't answer him. Chris took the silence as a sign of agreement. Rolling his eyes he said mockingly: "He really has brainwashed you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Bianca snapped, pushing past him to get into a larger area, the small kitchen now feeling more than claustrophobic.

"Then why do you help him? Is he holding something over you?" Chris queried.

"No."

"I can't think of how else he's controlling you."

Bianca froze at the word. Wyatt was not Michael; he was never going to be Michael. She was never going to let anyone manoeuvre her life or tell her what to do ever again. Her face grew sterner and her eyes darkened as she looked back to Chris.

"He is not controlling me," she said in a low, angry tone.

"So a smart, sexy woman like you is just hanging with him for kicks?"

"You don't know anything about it."

"After following you guys around for months, I think I do," Chris stated matter-of-factly. "Never once have I seen you stand up to him or dispute his decisions."

"I do what I'm paid to. That doesn't include offering opinion, whether I agree or not."

"There you go, submissive lackey. You've proved my point."

Turning towards him completely, she fired up an energy ball in her hand, its blue edges sparking alight as if she held a spherical piece of lightning in her palm. Her expression determined, she showed nothing other than fury for his words and his intrusion on her private residence.

"I've given you enough time to explain yourself. Leave."

"Alright, alright," he said, holding his hands up.

He attempted to say something further, but Bianca stepped forward and made a move as if to throw the ball from her hand. Instinctively stepping backwards, Chris did as she asked and orbed out. Even though she doubted he would return, at least not tonight, Bianca still decided upon having the coffee she had been making, feeling the need to stay awake and be aware for the next few hours.

"Bianca?"

Bianca looked up at Wyatt, dropping her hand down from her forehead through her hair. The sun beat down from an open sky above them, and she had to squint by the time her gaze reached his face.

"Something the matter?" he asked with concern.

"No, not really," she answered. "My head hurts from thinking."

"About?"

"Things."

"What things?"

"You value my opinion, right?" she questioned.

"Of course," Wyatt agreed.

"So if I told you not to do something, you wouldn't?"

She looked at him expectantly. Furrowing his brow, he stared down at her from where he was standing.

"What is this about? Did I do something?" he asked in a slightly offended tone.

"No, nothing. Don't worry about it." Looking ahead of her, she used the heel of her boot to kick the dirt underneath her feet at the base of the large rock she had chosen to sit on. "I really hate this lying in wait game."

"Have some patience, you'll be able to do something soon enough."

Sighing, Bianca kept watch across the ground, almost tempted to tell Wyatt to take a seat next to her. They seemed to be waiting forever. She wasn't expecting anything to happen. After a little while she saw a figure rounding the hill.

"Someone's coming," she said, almost as if in warning.

Pushing herself up from the rock, she raced towards the figure, instantly flashing an athame into her hand without a second thought. The figure approaching her was not scary; in fact he looked quite normal… well as normal as one could be stumbling around the desert in a business suit.

"Bianca!" Wyatt called after her, not a shout of concern, but more of an order to stop, and she almost did but the thought suddenly crossed her mind that if she did she would be letting him control her, effectively proving Chris right. Instead she picked up her pace. "Bianca!"

Continuing forward, her face setting into a determined glare as she moved her thoughts to the job, she only slowed once she reached the man, manoeuvring herself into position and thrusting the athame into the man's belly, yanking her arm back and watching him fall to the ground. She glanced at her palm only briefly to see it stained with fresh blood. It was enough of a glimpse to remind her who she was, and what she was born to do. Feeling the anger building inside of her, she lifted her head to see there were more coming. Wyatt was right; they didn't have to wait long. Hearing orbs beside her, she knew she wouldn't even have to look to see that Wyatt had joined her. Doing so as a precautious measure, she saw what appeared to be something of a reflection as another stream of orbs settled onto the rocky enclosure in the distance where she and Wyatt had been only moments ago. Giving herself more initiative to prove she knew what she was doing and did what she wanted, Bianca shimmered towards the largest group, reappearing in the middle and delivering a swift kick to her side. Crouching down low to avoid an overhead swing at her as she recovered, she pushed herself forward, balancing as she pivoted and swept her outstretched leg behind her, knocking down a few more assailants. Both her head and body flying back from a kick delivered low to her blind side, Bianca barely had time to push herself back up off the ground before she saw an energy ball take out the attacker. Instead of being happy that Wyatt had helped her, she became more angered at her vulnerability and at not being able to do this herself.

Climbing to her knees, she reached forward towards another man, grabbing his shirt and pulling him back towards her, wedging her foot underneath his body as she rolled back, carrying him over herself, hearing a satisfying crack as he landed head first on the ground. Rolling to the side, she pushed herself up, seeing what few remained had now set their sights on Wyatt. Powering up a series of energy balls, she threw them one after the other at the group, succeeding in hitting three of the five. The fourth disappeared, emerging behind her and grabbing her waist. Throwing her elbow back, she twisted her leg around the back of his, tripping him up, almost losing her own balance as she did so. Glancing over to see Wyatt with his fist clenched, his other hand steadying the man before him as he tried to choke the life out of him, she raced towards them, scooping up her dropped athame on the way and plunging it into the man's back. But she couldn't stop just there, she had to keep going, she needed to satisfy the craving – the urge to kill, the quench for blood. Grabbing the man by the hair, she yanked his head back in a harsh manner, drawing the blade across his throat. Wyatt, both stunned and aggravated, lowered his fist as he glared at her, unable to comprehend why she had attacked and finished someone he already had a good handle on, effectively stealing his right to extinguish the man's life.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Stepping over the fallen body, she gave it a swift kick backwards to create enough room for her to stand right in front of Wyatt. "What does it look like?"

"I had that under control."

"So?"

Wyatt's composure darkened. "You work for me, remember? Not the other way around."

Raising the athame to his throat and pressing the sharpened edge of the blade against his skin, Bianca used the flat to lift his chin.

"Want me to slice your throat too?" she queried.

Although angered, Wyatt remained calm as he studied her face, trying to decipher what had brought on such violence, the thoughts ticking over in the back of his mind how exactly to diffuse her without spilling his own blood.

"Don't try to raise the intensity," he said rationally.

Staring him down for a few minutes, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as her breath kept up its own anxious pace, she removed the athame from its position, only slightly nicking his skin as she pulled it away and dropped her hand to her side, looking away from him as she did so. She had pushed herself too far, she had done too much, and now she knew she'd reached a level she couldn't come back from. Much like the old days where she had been trying too hard to prove she could be a true Phoenix, she had taken herself to the brink and she knew of only one way to come down from those dizzying heights.

Shimmering away from Wyatt to the rocky alcove, she grabbed Chris and shimmered him back to the motel room which had been her home for quite some time two years ago. It didn't look any different than it had when she'd stayed there, only this time there were actually other occupants inside.

"Get out!" she demanded, seeing the frightened looks on their faces as they inched towards the door, two sets of eyes falling upon the energy ball forming in her hand. "Now!"

Escaping through the door at her last shout, narrowly missing being hit by the energy ball as it flew towards the door, knocking it closed and searing the lock into the wall socket, the damage so great it was highly likely the door would never be opened again unless someone took to it with an axe. As if to doubly ensure the protection against interruption, she lifted her arm in a sweeping motion with a few urgent, quietly spoken words that would encase the room with a kind of barrier that not even magic could penetrate. Turning her gaze predatorily back to Chris, he took a step back as she stalked towards him, wondering what exact torture she had planned for him.

"Bianca," he said calmly, barely able to get her name out before she brutally pushed him back onto the bed. Crawling his way back up the mattress as she climbed over him, he felt his terror rise, seeing how violent she had been only moments ago.

"Don't think I didn't see you watching. Did I prove your little theory wrong?" she questioned mockingly.

"Bianca, calm down," Chris urged, scared to endure whatever painful infliction she was about to impose. Trying to lift himself up, he felt her hand solidly placed on his chest, pushing him back down as she slid further up his body.

"That was never what you were looking for anyway," she said.

"Bianca, what…" Chris stopped, looking curiously up at her face, seeing not hatred there but lust as she lowered herself quickly to his lips, ensnaring them with her own. Her hands slid up his neck to his face, holding it in place as her kisses became more fervent and impassioned, Chris still trying to grasp what was happening. "I didn't…"

"Shut up," she said huskily, breaking only slightly for air. "Just shut up."

Pressing her lips back to his, she shifted her body slightly to get to the button of his jeans, popping it undone with one hand, her other sliding behind his head to pull him more towards her. Running her hand back up under his shirt, her palm gliding over his skin, she pulled back, looking at his face as she moved both hands to grab hold of his jeans and yank them off.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked, although he had a fairly good idea that he knew where this was heading.

"What does it look like?" she returned heatedly.

"Like you're taking my clothes off," he responded with a smirk.

"I thought I told you to be quiet."

"You did. I just don't listen to rules very well," Chris stated.

Her desire overwhelming any other sense she had, Bianca moved forward again to kiss him, feeling as if she couldn't get enough of his lips. Chris' hands now brushing along her sides, she pulled away quickly. Seating herself on his waist, Bianca's hands moved to the bottom edge of her top, grabbing the hem and lifting it up and over her head.

"You don't have to do this, Bianca," Chris said. "You don't need to prove anything to me."

Tilting her head to the side, her long hair falling across her bare shoulders and chest, she looked down on him with both awe and wonder, and almost non-comprehension at what he was saying.

"Don't you want me?" she asked simply.

His gaze travelling down her half-naked form, and back up to her face, drinking in the entire appearance of the woman on top of him, Chris licked his lips in contemplative thought.

"I never said that," he answered finally.

"Good," she commented, taking it as a sign to remove what clothing had yet to be discarded from their bodies onto the floor.

Her lips found their way to his again, kissing him ardently once more as she slid herself into position. Straightening up, she placed her hand on his stomach to balance herself as she raised her body slightly, coming back down where she needed to be. Feeling him securely inside her now, she began to move slowly, watching his face to ensure she was doing more than just satiating her own need. Her skin tingled as Chris' hands rested on her thighs, and she wasn't sure that he was absolutely conforming until they travelled up to the tops of her hips, his fingers digging firmly into her skin as his own pleasure heightened. He lifted one of his own hands to the back of her head, pulling her back towards him until their lips met again. Devoid of feeling, she was lost in the need of wanton gratification, her muscles tightening up as she reached the point she had longed for, crying out at the release. Chris followed shortly, satisfaction resting on his face as she pushed herself away. He turned his head to the side, seeing her gather her clothes and pull them back on.

"You're going to run away now?" he asked.

"You don't need me anymore," Bianca said, scooping her shirt up into her hands. "You got what you wanted."

Chris turned, propping himself up on his arm as he stared at her in surprise and confusion. She was the one who had started this. She was the one who had kidnapped him and thrown him onto the bed, and yet she was trying to make out as if he was the one who had initiated the entire event.

"Hey, I never asked for this," he said. "But I never asked you to leave either."

"I'm not hanging around for seconds," Bianca argued. Glaring at him, she added: "Don't start thinking I'm some cheap whore, 'cause I'm not."

"I don't. I think you're beautiful and amazing," Chris said. Bianca didn't want to hear it; she didn't want to have her heart crushed again. Continuing to stare at him as she tried to determine whether any truth lay behind those words, her eyes followed his hand as he stretched it towards her. "Stay."

Hesitantly taking his hand, she took a step towards him as he pulled her back, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at their joined hands as if it was something foreign. Chris lifted his arm and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her back towards him, shifting so that she had space to lie down as her head fell onto the pillows. Letting go of her hand shortly, he ran his own over her hair, combing it back behind her shoulder, kissing her cheek and her shoulder before resting behind her again, his arm drifting back down to her waist. She'd never been held before, never felt the comfort that Chris was giving her now, just to be able to lie in his arms without worry or fear because here she felt secure. For the first time things felt as they should be. She found it strange but reassuring. Closing her eyes, she found for the first time in a very long time she was able to quickly drift off to sleep.