2027

"Bianca!"

"Hmm?"

"You're still thinking?"

It was hard for her to think. The heat was unbearable, the sun blinding. The first day of summer only served to remind them of how much they had lost during the earthquake at the end of the last year.

"I don't know what to tell you," she said.

"Well if you don't know, you can at least guess – five or six candles? And do I use plantain?" he questioned. She looked at him blankly, prompting further explanation. "Rat's tail."

"I'm not adept with spells that require herbs, potions and what-not. I… didn't get the chance to learn it all properly."

She nervously combed her fingers through her hair, flashes of those days with Michael racing through her mind. She put her arms around her waist.

"What's the matter?" Wyatt asked.

"Nothing."

"Well obviously it's something, you've been nothing but distracted for the past few weeks. I can't have an assassin working for me who can't keep her mind on the job."

"I'm trying," she argued, but it was flimsy. She knew he was right. The whole time she had been looking, searching, trying to pick up a vital clue that Chris had made some impact. It had been seven months after all – what could he possibly be doing? Nothing had changed.

"Bianca, hello," Wyatt said, clicking his fingers in front of her face, bringing her back out of the vacant stare she'd slipped into again. "Concentrate. You didn't even attempt a guess!"

"Why do you want all that stuff?" she retorted.

"There's a lot of energy involved in holding open a two way door between the present and the past. I need more power."

"But why expend so much time on something so trivial? Nothings changed. He's obviously been unable to carry out his plan," she said. The silent fear creeping up on her, she walked directly in front of Wyatt and fixed him with a hard stare. "What if he's dead?"

"Then we bring home the body," he replied solemnly. "If you're so concerned for Chris' welfare, perhaps you should pay a visit to our good friend Gith and get him to enlighten you. After all it is his safety you desire most, is it not?"

"Yeah," Bianca answered unsurely.

It wasn't so much his safety she wanted, it was him. Her heart ached at the thought of him, at knowing he was some twenty-three years in the past and she had no way of communicating with him. She missed his laugh, his smile, the way he used to talk in his sleep when he was worried about something. She yearned for his touch – the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss. She wanted back that little piece of happiness she had found with him.

"Then go set your mind at ease," Wyatt said. Bianca took a step away, but stopped as Wyatt spoke again. "But first – five or six candles?"

"Five. You should form a pentagram if your want any kind of effect."

Leaving him outside the store, she shimmered down to the Underworld. She remembered Chris saying that Gith was practically their closest neighbour, so she searched the caverns around near the wreckage of the one place they had tried to call home until she found his quarters. Undeniably demonic, the bowl that stood towards the centre of the room was a good indication she was in the right abode. Cautiously she walked to the centre of the room, placing her hands on the edge of the bowl. She could hear movement nearby.

"Hey! Demon breath!" she shouted. "Where are you?"

"I'm bloody well coming. Hold your horses."

Emerging from around the corner, he eyed her critically as he walked closer. He was a little annoyed to find her positioned well past any traps he might have been able to lay, wary that she was too close to attack without being seen.

"Oh, a Phoenix," Gith said, spying the mark on her arm. "I should be honoured. You're not here to kill me, are you?"

"No. I need information," she replied.

"Right. What kind? Directions? Advice?"

"I need to open a window to the past."

"Ooh, that's tricky. The past isn't my speciality."

"You deal with wants – then tap into mine."

Gith cocked his head thoughtfully, his eyes lowering to the basin that stood between them. He dipped his finger into the water, swirling it, then swept his hand over the rippling surface. The image cleared and she saw Chris. Her eyes lit up and she smiled at the sight of him, quickly disguising it so as not to alert Gith to her intentions.

"He looks familiar," Gith commented.

"We used to be neighbours."

"Ah, now I know who you are. Not just another pretty face, then."

Bianca peered closer to the image. "What is he doing?"

"Looks like he's reading to me," Gith said, observing Chris telekinetically flipping the page. Chewing on the pen in his mouth, he held his hand up to stop and walked towards the book. Pulling out a pad from under his arm he began to scribble something down. "And taking notes."

An aqua coloured portal appeared before him, swirling in an anti-clockwise direction like a whirlpool spinning backwards. The image widened as Chris approached the scantily-clad blonde who emerged from it. Bianca could see he was in the attic. It was much more brightly lit than nowadays.

"Isn't there volume on this thing?" Bianca asked, curious to find out what business the woman had with her fiancé and what he'd been up to.

"How much longer do you really expect us to keep him?" the Valkyrie asked.

"Don't tell me he's complaining," Chris grumbled.

"Yes. A lot, actually," she answered.

"I don't believe it!" Chris exclaimed, pushing his hands forward in the air. He was obviously agitated. "Banish the guy to an island filled with beautiful women, and he still complains. I can't win."

"How much longer?" she pressed.

"Until I'm ready," Chris said. She looked away. "Look. I'm sorry, but I haven't finished what I came here to do yet."

"Who's he keeping?" Bianca asked.

"How should I know? I'm not psychic."

"At least he's still got his mind on the job. Or at least it seems like it. And his powers still work thankfully."

"Well five weeks after he got there, I would hope so," Gith joked.

"I'd never hurt you, Mist. You know that," Chris said.

Bianca looked curiously down at the image. Why did he say that? Why was he acting as if he cared about her? Her gaze shifted to Gith.

"Are you tampering with this?" she asked.

"No, I'm playing what happened," Gith answered. "This is real time."

She looked down, horrified to see Chris step forward and kiss the woman. Pleading with him to hurry the Valkyrie disappeared back through the vortex. Chris anxiously ran a hand through his hair. Bianca wondered if he was actually thinking of her at that moment. He looked nervous, just slightly. It was fair to presume he was probably worried about what she would think. It had to be some kind of plan, a means to an end. He'd made her promise to stay faithful. He wouldn't have done that unless he'd intended to do the same.

"Why don't I skip ahead a little?" Gith suggested. Bianca nodded.

Swirling the image again Bianca once more saw the attic, but this time Chris was accompanied by three blondes, none of which were the one from the previous vision. Upon closer look she actually saw there were six women in the room.

"Why are they so hazy?" she questioned.

"I think they're trying to project themselves as someone else. The scrying pool finds it difficult to reveal their true image, but it can't be deceived by a false one either."

"You did it. Nice work, babe," Chris complimented, sauntering over to one of them.

Bianca reeled back. He was so suave, so confidant. He appeared to have taken on those obnoxious qualities Wyatt had.

"Babe?" she repeated with jealousy.

Pressing her tongue to her teeth, she turned her face away as the woman giggled, pulling him in and kissing him. She had seen the woman throw her arms around Chris' neck. She had seen that he was not pulling away. At the mention of diamonds, she turned back, peering closer at the woman. He couldn't have possibly given her the ring, could he? The one thing she had given him to remind him of her, of why they were doing this. He didn't even look as if he cared about their plight anymore.

"Did you sleep with him?" one of the women asked, the one who appeared to be complaining a lot.

"No," the woman Chris had been kissing replied, although her tone and appearance as she twirled her hair denoted she was lying.

"Yes," Chris answered at the same time, his expression stoic and his hands behind his back.

Bianca's ears pricked up at the question. The second Chris answered in the affirmative her stomach turned. She felt nauseous. She stepped back from the bowl as if some distance was going to ease the feeling. Every word he spoke made it worse. Gith quickly changed the image in the bowl.

"Maybe we should go to another time," he said in an almost apologetic manner.

"It wouldn't matter anyway," Bianca muttered.

She heard the soft thud of glass hitting cardboard, and a sigh escape his lips. Cautiously she stepped back to the bowl, looking in, seeing Chris lounging on a couch in a grey t-shirt, his head resting on a pillow. It looked like the back room of a club. She presumed that's where he'd found residence, although she had hoped he would have been able to stay at the manor to get closer to the Charmed Ones. She saw him jump up, fumbling for his pants at the sight of Leo, holding them in front of him. Leo looked at him disapprovingly, his arms folded.

"Chris, what are you doing sitting around here?" he asked. "Aren't you supposed to be getting to know your new… charge?"

Turning back, he saw the same thing Bianca did – yet another blonde walking through the doorway, dressed only in a button-up shirt. She looked surprised at the sight of him. Chris, on the other hand, looked nothing but guilty, scratching the back of his neck as he sat back down, dropping his head onto his fingers.

"Oh, uh… hi Leo," she said awkwardly, trying to pull the hem of the shirt down.

"Okay, look, before you get mad you were the one who wanted me to have a charge in the first place. Remember?" Chris said quickly as an excuse.

Bianca shifted restlessly. Did she really want it spelled out in front of her? It was plainly obvious what had been going on. Chris' excuses meant nothing by now.

"Yeah, to protect her," Leo said, irritated by his justification.

"Oh, he was using protection," the blonde said, nodding.

"Yeah, I don't think that's what he meant," Chris explained.

"Chris, are you out of your mind? Aside from this being totally out of line, it's completely against the rules," Leo lectured.

"Yeah, you're one to talk," Chris scoffed, making himself comfortable.

"Oh, I don't think that's his point," the blonde said in an attempt to sound intelligent. Chris sighed, Leo glaring at the woman until she threw her hands up and decided to leave. "Why don't I just, um… leave you two alone?"

"Look, I was just having a little fun. What's the big deal? It's not like I have anything pressing to do anyway," Chris griped.

"You don't have anything pressing?" Leo questioned. Chris shrugged. "Then why exactly did you come back from the future in the first place?"

"Uh… I don't know," Chris said, thinking it over and then giving a casual shrug. "I forgot."

"You forgot?" Leo repeated. Chris laughed, amused at himself.

"He forgot?" Bianca questioned, crushed.

Everything was ruined. Chris didn't know what he was supposed to be doing. Somehow Leo had an idea of who he was, which angered her all the more because he had not followed what she had said. He wasn't supposed to tell any of them who he was. And now he was just sitting there, taking enjoyment out of this whole situation. Had he intended to do this all along? To escape back to the past just so he could run away from his brother and do whatever he pleased?

She watched as Leo orbed out, the blonde immediately making an appearance back in the doorway, swinging her body in its frame with sheer delight on her face. Chris smiled, nodding and shifting his shoulders as she came back into the room.

"Turn it off," Bianca said.

"Why? Maybe you can get—"

"I said turn it off!" she yelled. "I don't want to see anymore."

Turning away she bit her lip, wrapping her arms around herself. How could she have believed Chris? After all this time he was just manipulating her, all along he had been using her to get to the book, to get past Wyatt, just so he could escape back to that. It was no wonder he'd wanted her to lighten her hair. Although it wasn't like the rest of those girls, it still showed he had a penchant for blondes. He'd just taken from her what he could and gone, just like Michael. She wondered how many other girls he'd had on the side while he was professing his love for her. She hated herself for being blinded by love, for letting him get so close that he was able to shield her from everything he had been doing when she wasn't looking. She wasn't about to let him win this. Wyatt wanted him back; then she would bring him back. She despised the very thought of Chris now. He deserved to be punished.

Materialising in the shadows, Wyatt walked forward, watching Bianca walk away with her arms folded, shimmering out before reaching the door.

"I presume she didn't get the answer she was looking for," Wyatt commented. Gith gave him a wry smile.

"He's been one very naughty boy from the looks of it."

"My brother?" Wyatt questioned with a surprised laugh.

"Leo didn't appear too pleased with him."

"That hasn't changed," Wyatt said. He walked closer to the scrying pool, peering in for the image she'd seen but the water's face remained blank. "I trust you showed her what she needed to see."

"I think she's gathered enough resentment to carry out what you want her to."

"Good," Wyatt said. "She's the only one he's going to listen to. I never imagined he'd be the one giving her ammunition to do it."

"Love is a funny thing. It's the sweetest way to hurt someone."

Wyatt's expression darkened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You didn't know she was engaged to him, did you? She's entirely off limits," Gith mocked. Racing forward, Wyatt's hand came to rest firmly around the demon's scrawny neck, pushing him back against the rock wall and lifting him from the ground. "I know what your greatest desire is. You want the one thing you can't have."

Face flushed with anger, Wyatt tightened his hold, lifting and throwing back the demon again, his skinny body harshly hitting solid rock. Seeing Gith's eyes firmly fixed on the pool, Wyatt chanced glancing back. He was revealing the image. A wavering picture of a woman with long light brown hair began to appear. Wyatt glared heatedly back at Gith.

"Do not cross me!" he shouted.

Gith had little chance to reply. Staring on in abstract wonder, Wyatt was baffled to see the demon disintegrate under his touch. His skin darkened to charcoal black, burning red embers showing as the ash fell away, a twisted terrified expression literally dropping from his face. There was nothing but air beneath Wyatt's hand as the demon crumbled to the floor. All around him Wyatt heard cracking, the walls breaking, rock falling to the floor and the unkempt appearance of the lair tripling in dirt, grime and mysterious webby things on the wall. The lights dimmed to almost nothing, Wyatt noting the whole cavern looked suddenly grimmer and devoid of life. The wall to his right fell away and he could hear scurrying. Millions of tiny legs raced towards him. He barely caught sight of the first league of large bug-like creatures when he orbed out, not wanting to stick around for the trouble that awaited him.

Wyatt stood back, looking at the masterpiece he'd created. A perfectly rounded table draped with a purple cloth, five white candles neatly set around it at the five points of a pentagram, a bowl laden with plantain seated in the centre…

He twisted his lips thoughtfully. It looked a little off. Leaning towards it he shifted the bronzed object into a better position, turning to look at Bianca as she came storming in.

"Have you finished the spell yet?" she demanded.

"Why? Is there some kind of rush?" he asked, moving away from the table. Bianca stopped before him. He could see the anger written all over her face. It amused him to no end seeing her fired up like this. She always did her best work in this frame of mind. "You're so eager, Bianca."

Glancing down at the bowl, Bianca saw he had filled it with red plantain. Beside the fractured bowl lay a folded piece of white paper. Quickly she made a grab for it, flipping it over in her hands as she tried to unfold it. Taking hold of the top edge Wyatt snatched the paper away from her. Looking up, she glared at him, seeing him looking back at her with the same kind of irritation.

"I didn't give you permission to touch this," he said.

"You wanted me to go, didn't you?" she retorted. "Then let me go."

"You have no patience," Wyatt said, folding the note back into his hand. With one swift manoeuvre he buried it in his back pocket.

"I waited seven months! That's patience enough."

"And each of those months you did whatever you could to deter me from doing this."

"I want to go back," she insisted. "I want to bring you Chris. He's only wasting time like you said he would."

"Which is why I wonder why you ever believed what he said in the first place," Wyatt said.

"Because he gave me reason to. Every day I kept hoping things would get better. It's not going to. Let me bring him back and then we'll start again."

"What makes you think he's going to listen to me this time?"

"He will," Bianca said. "More than anything I believe you now, and he will too. I'll make him see things our way."

"One half-hearted discussion is not going to work."

Bianca shook her head, indicating that was not what she had in mind. "I'll show him."

"Like I showed you?" he asked. She nodded.

"First-hand experience is the quickest learning curve."

"You really think you can bring him back?" Wyatt questioned, a look of uncertainty appearing on his face.

"I'm sure of it."

"You know if you don't come back, Bianca, I am going to send more assassins after you."

"You won't need to. I won't fail you."

Pulling the piece of paper back out of his back pocket, he glanced down at his hand, lifting his gaze back to her. She didn't move. She was wise enough not to try the same trick twice, instead waiting with as much patience as she could muster for him to give support or instruction. Wyatt walked towards the wooden table nearby, picking up the lighter that lay amongst the glassware. Returning to Bianca, he began to light the candles surrounding the bowl.

"What are you going to do with him… when he comes back?" Bianca asked, watching as Wyatt lit the last two candles.

"It depends upon his frame of mind," Wyatt replied. "I only ask for his help. I don't want to keep playing the same game over and over again."

"Are you going to hurt him?"

Wyatt raised an eyebrow as he surveyed her. She almost seemed as if she wanted him to, but from the underlying phrasing he knew that wasn't truly the case.

"I don't intend upon bringing him back so I can beat him up," Wyatt answered. "However he will be dealt with accordingly."

"How?" she pressed.

"I know you're concerned, but you needn't be. I'm not going to hurt him. I promise."

"When can I go?"

"I don't see what's stopping you from leaving now… apart from those clothes. Heels, tight skirts and flappable tops aren't going to get you very far," he stated. Bianca set her jaw, irritated by his critique of her appearance. Orbing a folded pile of dark clothes into his arms, he offered them to her. "Here. You'll be more camouflaged this way."

"I'm not wearing something because you told me to."

"If I give you a gift, Bianca, I expect you to accept it."

"Fine," she said, snatching it out of his hand. "I'm not changing in front of you."

"There're bedrooms and a bathroom downstairs. I didn't think you needed to be reminded."

Eyes blazing, she shimmered down to the second level, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her walk away in defeat. She tossed the clothes onto the bed, assessing them. Black vinyl pants, a micro belt, a vest with buckles… She moved the pieces separately. That was all. No extra. She looked at the vest again wondering if it would even fit. It was bound to show everything. She didn't understand why Wyatt would want her to appear so alluring, although it would help being as Chris' mind was thoroughly in his pants now.

Pulling off her shoes, she conjured a pair of dark boots to match the outfit, laying them aside as she quickly changed. The belt, she found, threaded neatly around her waist. The vest, although a tight fit, managed to cover her body in all the right places. Passing the last front strap through the buckle she pulled tightly, feeling secure as the material clung to her body. Raking her fingers through her hair, she looked quickly around the room, kicking what she was leaving behind underneath the bed and reaching for her boots. With them snugly on she shimmered back up to the attic, folding her arms self-consciously as she watched Wyatt.

"You're sure you can handle this?" he asked.

"I can."

"Go stand by the wall."

Acquiescently, she turned and made her way over to the triquetra. It had faded some since she drew it, but Wyatt refused to clean her vandalism off. He wanted it kept there for Chris' return, and to remind her of that fateful day when she had lost two of the greatest loves of her life – one through time, the other by her own hand. And they had both betrayed her. It was a torturous reminder of every mistake she had ever made.

"Ready?" Wyatt asked. She nodded quickly. Unfolding the paper, Wyatt read the spell he had written aloud: "Hear these words, hear the rhyme. Heed the hope within my mind. Reopen the window, reopen the door. Let those in the past evade us no more. Send this witch through time and space, then return again to the rightful place."

Lifting his eyes towards Bianca he refolded the note and tossed it into the bowl. It flared brilliantly, and then nothing. Looking at Wyatt discontentedly Bianca saw him shrug before a bright flash almost blinded her from the side. It had worked. Like before the triquetra was glowing and rippling. Tentatively she put a hand to it, drawing back slightly at the unctuous feeling moving against her skin. She looked back to Wyatt, reminding herself of why she was doing this again, and with a more purposeful stride walked into the vortex.

Wyatt watched it close behind her, barely moving but keenly listening as he heard someone shimmer in behind him.

"Sir! We received word there was Phoenix activity in the residence," the demon announced.

"I know. I sent her away on a new job."

Looking around quickly, the demon saw there were no other signs of trouble. More demons shimmered in by him, backup for the alert to danger.

"Do you wish me to go, sir?" he asked.

"No. Stay a while. You might be needed," Wyatt responded, his eyes still trained on the wall. "I want to see if she brings me any results."