2026 cont.
The heels of her boots echoed as she jogged down the wooden stairway, slowing as she hit the floor. Wetting her lips she looked around quickly, holding the athame high in case she needed to use it again. Chris followed quietly, and at a slower pace, stopping on the last stair and taking a seat on them, letting out a relieved sigh as if he had not sat down in ages. Satisfied that they were alone, the athame disappeared from Bianca's grasp, a sigh escaping her lips as she relaxed herself.
"We should be safe here until the museum closes," she said, turning back towards Chris. "Then we'll go get the book. What's the matter?"
"Nothing," Chris replied. How could he tell her he was afraid she was going to fall back into her old habits? He didn't know how to express his fear, his worry, his concern that she was going to turn back into that cold-blooded killer again, and this time he would not be here to keep her from falling. He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders as he looked back to her. "It's just… sometimes I forget who you really are."
"Hey. Come here," she said softly, almost inaudibly, taking a step towards him and pulling him to his feet. Tenderly she rubbed his arms as he looked down at her. It was almost as if he hated her for it. She didn't want him to look at her like she was some kind of monster and she knew she needed to convince him otherwise. "You mean who I used to be, Chris. Before I met you."
"So," he said. She noticed he was smiling; it had been enough to convince him. And that look in his eyes told her he'd moved onto other thoughts. "What do we do now?"
"Hmm," she mumbled thoughtfully, glancing down to his chest, noticing how his shirt clung to the shape of his body. She felt that old familiar charge – the kill, then the craving. She knew he wouldn't care. Her gaze moving back to his eyes she saw he wanted this just as much as she. "We say goodbye."
She phrased it as a suggestion, and for a moment Chris' face went completely blank. Illustrating her meaning, she lifted her hand and slowly began to unbutton her shirt. Chris' gaze dropped to her chest and instantly she knew she had him. It took little more than for her to peel her shirt off for him to move in and kiss her. He slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. Wrestling her way out of her shirt, she threw her arm around his neck, pressing her hand against his shoulder as she pressed her lips harder to his. She raised her other arm, lifting her shirt into the air with nimble fingers and casually dropped it to the side as Chris deepened the kiss. His smooth hands glided further down her back, finding the zipper on her skirt and tugging at the zip as she brushed her tongue over his. Not wanting to break away but pushing herself back with purpose, she opened her eyes and gazed at him lustfully as she started to lift his shirt. Chris picked up on the indication, quickly taking over from her as she looked down, her fingers intertwining around the front of his cargos as she tried to release their hold around his waist, her hands sliding around the back as she pushed them down. Lifting herself back up towards Chris, he pulled her back towards him, Bianca eager to place her lips against his again.
"It's going to be cold," he whispered, breaking away momentarily.
"I'm already cold," she admitted in response.
"Not for long," he said, lowering her to the ground, his foot kicking together their pile of clothes to put something between her skin and the cold stone floor.
Bianca shifted uncomfortably as a button dug into her back. Chris watched her squirming beneath him. Mistaking uncomfortableness for anticipation, he leant down and kissed her again, his hands tugging roughly at her underwear.
"Chris," she murmured through the kiss. Moving her hands between them, she forcefully pushed him back. "Just give me a second."
Arching her back, she placed her hands behind her and smoothed out the shirt underneath. Chris took the opportunity to kiss her exposed collarbone at the nape of her neck. Her heart beating ever faster, his kisses traversed downwards.
"God, you're hot," he stated, tenderly laying another kiss on her stomach.
"Chris," she called, her breath shallow.
Lifting his head, she took it between her hands, pulling him to herself and kissing him wantonly. Chris quickly pulled off his last item of clothing. She felt his hand slide down her side and she opened up to him. They moved at a steady pace, the cold disappearing as the heat of passion overtook them both. Enraptured in feelings of pleasure, they pushed themselves beyond the point of no return, infusing everything they had into what would prospectively be the last time they'd be together so intimately. The view narrowing to the current moment, they ignored all that was around them, seeing only each other, chancing being caught out. His name escaped her lips as ecstasy overtook her. Chris held still, reaching his own climatic pinnacle, then slowly lowered himself down to grace her shoulder with one last tender kiss. His cheek resting against her, she started to worry when after a few moments he still hadn't moved.
"Chris?" she asked softly. Lifting his head he looked down at her, swallowing hard, his eyes glazed over with tears. She drew her lips in, trying hard not to cry herself at the sight of him being so emotional. Gently she placed a hand to his cheek. "Baby, don't."
Lifting his head, he fixed his eyes on the ceiling in an effort to compose himself. He pushed himself back, pretending he'd never been so sentimental in the first place, and lay next to her, pulling her closer to him.
"I don't want to leave you alone," he confided.
After a moment's pause, Bianca said: "I won't be."
Giving a frustrated sigh, Chris asked in an annoyed tone: "Why can't you come with me?"
"Because," Bianca replied. Propping herself up, she moved over him. "Chris, you know I can't leave. It's bad enough one of us is going to disappear let alone both of us. If one of us is here we can hold the fort, we can keep up the illusion. He's going to notice if we're both gone."
"I don't want to do this," Chris said, shaking his head.
"I know you don't want to, but you have to," Bianca insisted. Chris' gaze moved to hers. "I could never infiltrate your family the way you could. You know them better. Besides, I don't think they'd be so welcoming towards me."
"If I like you, they'd like you," Chris said.
"I wasn't talking about that," Bianca said.
Pulling back, she gathered up her shirt, shaking the dust off before threading her arms through the sleeves. Flicking her hair out from the collar, she began to reclasp the buttons.
"What are you doing?" Chris asked, lifting his head slightly from the ground to look at her.
"We can't lie here all day. We have to keep moving."
"But… I thought…" He sat up, his hands splayed behind him. "What happened to waiting here til nightfall?"
"It's dark enough," she stated, standing.
Chris climbed to his feet, slowly redressing himself, in no hurry to bring about his own expulsion. He knew she was worried, but there was still that nagging feeling gnawing at him that she wanted to get rid of him, that she was rushing to reclaim her old lifestyle. She didn't even completely button her shirt; the top two buttons left negligently open as she searched the ground for the rest of her belongings. Finding her skirt tangled amongst his shirt, he lifted it towards her, holding it firmly as she grasped the other end until she looked him in the eye.
"You won't forget this. What you promised."
"No," she said coldly. It was the dangerous glint in his eye that prompted such an unfeeling response, a look that reminded her a lot of Wyatt and consequentially urged her to move faster as she remembered he could appear at any moment.
Letting the skirt go, Chris watched her shimmy into it without giving him a second look before purposefully striding up the stairs. Pushing his arms through his sleeves, he lifted his shirt over his head, his expression concerned as she disappeared back out the door. Cautiously climbing up the stairway, he pushed open the door and saw her yet again staring at the table. He glanced behind him, wondering if he'd just imagined everything that had just happened or whether another guard was suddenly going to appear.
"Can you use this?" she asked without turning around.
"What?" Chris responded, walking towards her. He glanced at the map on the table and the scrying crystal suspended above it before looking to her grim expression. "Who do you want me to look for?"
"Wyatt. I have to know where he is. We've caused enough trouble…" She paused seeing Chris was unconvinced. She needed to explain to him better. "You're family. You've got the strongest bond. It'll be easier for you to locate him. We have to ensure he hasn't been alerted to what we're doing here."
Unhooking the crystal from the wire hanger, Chris circled the map with it, waiting for the point to settle somewhere. Finally it came to rest on a location a fair distance from them on the map.
"He's at the market," Chris stated. "There's no… whoa!"
The crystal's thread yanked violently in his hand, jumping from one point of origin to another on the map, swinging closer towards them.
"He's on the move," Chris said, staring ambiguously at the hyperactive crystal.
"He's coming towards us," Bianca said, panic only slightly evident in her voice as she stepped back and surveyed the room quickly.
Suddenly the crystal dropped, stopping. Chris waited a moment, expecting the scrying crystal to move again. When it didn't, he lowered his face closer to the map, squinting as he tried to read the new location. Taking a step back towards him, Bianca instantly recognised where the crystal had landed.
"He's home," she stated. "We don't have much time. As soon as one of his lackeys finds him or he notices what's happened to his probes he's going to start piecing things together."
"Upstairs?" Chris suggested quickly. She nodded.
Exiting the kitchen, Chris made his way up to the first landing, his gaze precariously glimpsing over the family portraits that adorned the walls. Bianca's fingertips pushed against his middle back gently, her keen eyes keeping a watchful gaze over the ground floor as they ascended. Chris rounded the corner and stopped, looking around. Bianca stepped up behind him. She didn't see the probes emerge from the conservatory on the ground floor, one of the scanners managing to catch the edge of her boot before she reached the next landing.
Cautiously proceeding forward, Bianca headed straight for the door to the attic. Chris following at a lingering pace, he stopped outside the door to his old bedroom, looking in through the open doorway at what lay inside. Pushing open the door, Bianca looked back to see him distantly staring into one of the rooms.
"Chris!" she hissed loudly. He didn't move. Annoyed, she paced back to him. "Chris, this isn't the time to take a stroll down memory lane."
His arms folded, he nodded towards the interior of the room. "You see that ball over there? That's the first thing mom ever bought me that was mine, entirely mine, not some hand-me-down from Wyatt. She used to tell me I could practice my telekinesis on it because it was soft enough not to break anything. You wouldn't think she would have been overly concerned about that with the number of things that were destroyed or needed repair after all the 'visitors' we had."
Studying the colourful ball that had been carefully set on the chest of drawers, Bianca's gaze drifted back to see a reminiscent smile of amusement on his face. Continuing over his shoulder, she saw a probe surface at the top of the staircase, the imminent whirring suddenly reaching her ears.
"Shit," she cursed, silently scolding herself for not having heard it sooner.
Grabbing hold of Chris, she quickly turned the other way and saw another probe approaching them from the end of the hall. Looking back to the first probe, returning her gaze to the second, she tried to discern which one was closer and whether they could outrun them. The scanning rays projected from the one in front of them. Closing her eyes and hoping with all her might that they wouldn't reach the pair, Bianca tightened her hold on Chris and shimmered to the interior doorway leading up to the attic. Chris fell away from her as they reappeared and dropped down onto the stairs.
"Chris!" she cried in panic.
"I'm okay," he said, holding up his hands. "I just wasn't expecting that."
"No you were too busy taking the scenic route," Bianca chastised.
"Can you blame me? He wouldn't let me back in. I haven't seen any of this in years."
Bianca lowered her eyes, beaten. She knew he was right. She'd witnessed it herself. She had no right to tell him that he wasn't allowed to remember his life or that he couldn't have had any kind of existence before this. With a look of sympathy she approached him, taking his hands and pulling him back to his feet.
"I'm sorry," she apologised. "Sometimes it's hard for me to believe families can actually care about one another. And that you actually value where you came from."
Brushing his thumb softly over the back of her hand, he joked: "Are you trying to make me worried about seeing them again? Cause you know my paranoia is right about here at the moment."
Holding his folded hand up midway in the air to indicate the level, Bianca felt relief wash over her. He often had that affect on her when she was completely wound up. Chris had a knack for bringing concern down a few levels, and she was sure it had a lot to do with his easy-going nature. Despite this, he was one of the most apprehensive people she'd ever met.
"You won't have any problems," she said confidently.
Moving past him, she began climbing the stairs. Chris turned to follow her, turning every possible scenario over in his head of what could potentially happen.
"I keep thinking they're going to recognise me," he said. Bianca stopped, glancing over her shoulder at him.
"How? You weren't even born then."
"Still…"
"Are you planning on telling them something?"
"No," he answered. Bianca turned back, stepping up towards the door and wrapping her hand around the handle. "What do I tell them?"
Opening the door slightly, Bianca poked her head through the small opening, her eyes quickly searching the room for any more signs of trouble. Surely the most valued part of the house would be heavily guarded. Surprisingly she found it empty.
"Don't tell them anything," Bianca said, the door audibly creaking as she pushed it wide. Chris followed her inside. "Just stick to your cover story. The less they know about the future, the better."
Grabbing the end of the rope from the pole, she speedily unhooked the join, holding the red rope close to her chest as she walked to the other end and re-hooked it onto the other pole, leaving an opening for them to walk through into the 'exhibit'.
"But what if they find out who I really am?" Chris asked in a low voice, quietly closing the door as he watched her.
"They won't," she answered, picking up the idea from Chris and lowering her own voice. "Not as long as you can pass yourself off as their Whitelighter."
Chris sighed, thinking of the arduous task that lay ahead. He nodded his agreement to Bianca as they walked into the restricted area.
"And you're sure I won't lose my powers when I go back?" he questioned.
Bianca lifted her hand to her face, her gaze skimming over the very position she had seen Wyatt conducting his failed spell when she had returned. Nerves began to settle in again at the reminder of his threat. Agitated, she lowered her arms to her waist and hugged herself, her hands slipping back together as she anxiously played with her fingers.
"Yeah, not with this spell. That's why we need it," she explained. He nodded as she turned to face him. "Look, just remember… protect baby Wyatt and you protect The Charmed Ones. Keep them alive for our future."
Chris let out an uneasy laugh, raising his brows at her. "Great, no pressure there."
All the humour left his face as he stepped towards her, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He dropped his head as he stopped before her, the weight of such a task now seeming to take on a physical bearing as well as a mental and emotional one. Bianca watched him with irritation, wondering if he was even taking this seriously anymore. She knew he didn't want to go, but he didn't really have a choice in it at this point.
"Chris, you know you're… you're the only one who can do this," she said, trying to get him to see the seriousness in their situation. She leant forward, brushing his arm with her hand. "You're the only one who can save us."
"If I make it back," he said pessimistically. Now she saw the problem. He felt like he'd been served a death sentence.
"Baby, you have to make it back," she said, lifting her hand and brushing his neck, her finger trailing along his chin. Her entire demeanour softened as she smiled lovingly at him. "If you want to marry me."
Sliding her finger down his chin, she saw him smile back. Tilting her head, she moved in to kiss him, Chris quickly applying his lips to hers as she lifted her hands from his chest and circled the back of his shoulders. His hands slid briefly up her hips as she pulled away. The expression on his face was enough to tell her that yet again she had done a fairly good job of convincing him.
"You really know how to motivate a guy, you know that?" he teased.
Bianca laughed, backing them up and pulling him towards the dais. Letting go of his hand, she walked around to the front of the dais, passing her hand through the holographic copy of the book. It rattled under her touch. Chris looked down at the piece of Wyatt's little handiwork, amazed at the likeness it bore to the real thing.
"Sure you can summon the real book?" Bianca asked.
"Yeah," Chris said, nodding.
"Away from him?" Bianca questioned further. There was a touch of annoyance in her voice, and she knew it was because of the many times he'd hidden it from her.
"Yeah," Chris answered, smirking with an overconfident smugness. "But we won't have much time once it gets here. His demons will be all over us.
Bianca nodded, looking away. She knew this. She was the one who'd been playing watch since they'd first entered the house. She was also the one who had spent more time working with Wyatt than Chris ever had.
"We won't need much time," she said, reaching for him. "Just long enough to send you back to them."
Turning in a circle with a lingering gaze at Chris, she headed for the cleared attic wall. Chris glanced briefly at the book before continuing to watch her. Removing a thick piece of white chalk from her waistband, Bianca gripped it in her hand and placed it against the wall, slowly drawing it downwards as she began to draw the triquetra.
"Hurry," Chris urged. "Before he finds us."