Fire and Ice Chapter Eight, a charmed fanfic

Summary: This story is set in the future, sixteen years from the Season Six finale. Tasha, a girl whose past is unknown even to her, appears to the Charmed Ones, asking for help. Along the road to controlling her powers, an attraction springs up between her and Chris, but can their feelings for each other overcome the demons in her past--and future?

Dedicated to: My dog. His name is Sirius. Sometimes. Other times, it's Undercover Brother, and on other occasions it's Butch, Bowser, or Christopher. See, I share him with my six-year-old brother. But I trained the animal to now answer to 'Dawg'. So, that's what he's called…but it's not his name.

Disclaimer: Yup, it's totally mine. Believe me? You DO! Now, go check out the word 'gullible' in the dictionary, and see if your piccie is there.

Thanks: To everyone who reviewed. You rock. We need more people with your discerning intellect on this planet.

Important Notes cough: WHY HAS NO ONE SPOILERED ME? Oh, and yes Chris does get TK later on. But I dunno if I'll write it in…see, he went back and changed the past, and I figured that the different childhood would make his powers develop differently… ) Oh yeah, sorry! For both the shortness and the gap in between. But I really am trying to update more frequently.

Chapter Eight

"What in the seven names of Hell are you doing, woman?" screeched Chris. Yes, he actually screeched, which, Tasha reflected; made him lose a lot of the bad boy mystique he used to carry with him. However, in the three days that she had been living with him—that is to say, in the same house, not as in living in the couple sense--, she had come to see him for what he really was: a neurotic, irrational, obsessive and highly disturbed teen. That, and the fact that he was a bit of a touchaphobe, for lack of a better word. He did sing well, though.

However.

"Geez Chris, calm down. I'm just making a pied elixir. Why, may I ask, does that give you the need to screech?"

"I do not 'screech'," muttered Chris sullenly, "and I suppose you thought that the jimson weed and hellebore go together well?"

Tasha rolled her eyes. Now Mr. I-have-only-three-active-powers was criticizing her potions? She smirked to herself. In the past three days, she had not only mastered invisibility (the trick was to want to be unseen), she could also charm up a little rain (which was progress, she told herself, considering that a week ago her control over the weather was pretty much nonexistent) and was on her way to figuring out how to use the fireballs. The trick with that was trying to control her emotions…just one lapse in her concentration, and it was bye-bye budding witch Tasha. As Leo had said, fire was the most unstable of all the elements--it consumed itself. It was chaotic and hard to control, and Leo had felt that it would take at least a century to truly master fire. To which Tasha had snorted and said that she didn't have a century.

But once more, she digressed.

"No, Chrissy, I did not presume that for an instant. But if you were here a few moments ago like a good whitelighter would be when I started making this, you would realize that I've added," she gestured with the ceremonial athamè she was using to stir and activate the ingredients in the cauldron, "valerian root and bald eagle feathers to neutralize the implosion effect."

Chris looked taken aback for a moment, perhaps by the fact that his charge was grasping magical herbal lore quite a bit faster than he had. His mouth fell open slightly.

"Tell me," enquired Tasha sweetly, "do you now feel as stupid as you look?"

Chris looked insulted for a moment, and then his face broke into a sheepish smile. He brushed back the hair that was flopping into his eyes. "Not possible," then, as if determined to regain dignity: "Hmph. Bald eagles are endangered, you know."

"Yes Chris. I used the feathers, not, like, the eyeballs or entrails or whatever." Tasha said, humming to the music blaring from her CD player in the background.

Chris frowned. "Why are you making a pied elixir anyway?"

"Well," started Tasha, then paused, leaned over, and flipped down the volume. "It causes different types of magic to separate out visibly, like colored patches on clothing."

"I know that. I asked you why you needed it."

"Relax, I was getting to that! Geez. I just wanted to see if my…essence, or spirit, or whatever it is that powers me up could…I don't know…separate. Maybe, I could get rid of my demon parts…and I would like to see which parts of me are demon, dominion, or witch. You know, just so I know."

Chris looked at Tasha with sympathy in his eyes. "You really are worried about being evil, aren't you?"

Tasha looked Chris dead in the eye. "Yes. I am. Despite what Leo has told me, despite everything everyone is telling me…I worry."

"I guess that repeating that riff about choices isn't gonna help right now?"

Tasha gave him a sideways look that would kill pigeons in midair.

"Whoa. Guess not." Chris drew closer to her. "Look, I totally get what you're worried about. I do. It's just…I think that you should relax about it. Firstly, we will not vanquish or get rid of any part of you." He smiled down at her. "I like them all, and I'm sure others would agree. I–-uh, we love you, demon, dominion, and the rest. And besides," he slung an arm over her shoulders, "if you did turn evil, you know I'd be the first in line to beat the crap outta you."

Tasha smiled up at him. "Thanks Chris…I think. Although, that does comfort me, in a very disturbing way."

And as the fates would have it, Wyatt burst in at that precise moment.

"Yo!—Oh. Heh." He leered at the both of them. "Am I interrupting something?"

Flushing, Tasha ducked away from Chris's arm and sprinkled the potion with some shredded monkshood.

"No, brother dearest, you are not."

"Are you sure? 'Cuz I could leave and come back later." Wyatt beamed brightly.

Tasha rolled her eyes. Ever since that disastrous incident in which she and Chris had been caught not-sleeping together, the cracks hadn't stopped. Even Paige and Phoebe had joined in with Wyatt's and Pearl's comedy show. And quite frankly, it was leaving the realms of amusing and entering the realm of shut-up-before-I-hurt-you. Perhaps it was time to take things into her own hands.

Now, concentrate, she told herself, focusing on Wyatt with her entire self. You can do it. She tuned out the wisecracks and insults being thrown from brother to brother, and instead tried to extend her entire mind towards Wyatt. She expanded her senses, acutely aware of the soft carpet under her bare feet, the bittersweet smell of the pied elixir…the image of Wyatt flickered before her eyes, so intense was her concentration. From nowhere, a tingling appeared in the palms of her hands, the feeling you get after slapping something really hard. And…push!

As Tasha thought this, Wyatt was blown out of the room by something unseen. The door slammed behind him, and Chris started, then looked around at her.

"You--? Nah…did you?"

"Did I what?" Tasha tried to play it stupid.

"Use your telekinesis! Stop playing dumb!"

Blast. I thought that would work. Tasha looked guilty. "I didn't mean to. I mean…I was expecting more of a light mental push, than a…force nine gale. But yes, that would be telekinesis." She looked away.

Chris, however, looked totally impressed. "That was cool. Not to mention quick. You're really getting the hang of this!" he praised.

"Uhh…thanks. Could you, uh," Tasha motioned at the door, "go check on the comedian? I think I'll just…hang here and mess around with this," she indicated the little cauldron, "and hope Wy doesn't decide to blow me up."

"Or telekinise your ass back."

Tasha snorted. "That's not even a word."

Chris shrugged, and orbed outside.

"Showoff," muttered Tasha. Hmm. Speaking of showing off. She bit her lip, and concentrated. The bloodwort. The bloodwort. She bit her lip, and focused on the small glass vial full of bloodwort. Come on. Into the cauldron. As she squinted, the bottle floated over to the cauldron, and turned over, dribbling exactly three drops into the steel bowl.

"Yay!" cheered Tasha, losing her focus for a moment. And in that moment, the bottle escaped, and fell, end over end—

--directly into the potion simmering beneath.

"Oh, sh-" was all Tasha managed to get out before the contents exploded.

"It's not like it's dangerous," defended Tasha.

"Right. Just extremely fragrant." Pearl nodded, glaring at Chris for glaring at Tasha.

"Thanks Pearl,"

Chris rolled his eyes and threw up his hands, before stomping down the staircase. Tasha smiled ruefully.

The extra bloodwort thankfully hadn't blown up the house, or similar. It had however, made the powers of all living in the house detectable…that is to say…smellable.

Tasha had read somewhere that all magick-users carried a nigh-undetectable scent with them, and they reeked of it. Just like cigarette users, really…they couldn't detect the smell, but no matter what they did, countless showers, innumerable baths, essential oils…the scent stayed. Usually unnoticed, by them and others, but not always. This would be one of those cases.

The house stank of magic.

Especially because a demon had shimmered in a few minutes ago (nothing after Tasha, just a lower-level Fargo demon) and used its power of hyperspeed to its advantage, causing the four teens to miss it and destroy a lot of fragile, Piper-treasured objects before finally blowing it into oblivion.

Chris was thanking The Powers That Be for the fact that the Power of Three and their respective mates had decided it was time for a well-deserved break, and were all in some folksy, woody town for the weekend.

But the battle had peppered the entire house with pungent fumes. The attic, wherein Chris had tried to pyro the demon's ass was positively reeking of cherry. Meanwhile, the sunroom held the unmistakable scent of chocolate (causing Pearl to steer clear of it, in fear of endangering her diet) which Wyatt could be blamed for. Pearl had spiced up the hall with bubblegum, and Tasha herself had managed to drench (for lack of a better word) Chris's room with the smell of raspberries. To add to this mess, the three sisters also left a slight scent, due to years of inhabiting the manor. Phoebe was the vivacious smell of strawberries, and Piper's years of cooking had imbued the kitchen with a vanilla fragrance. Paige had left her magical signature too, a slightly minty aroma. Leo had left a piney, air-freshener smell.

Tasha watched Chris stomp away, and grinned, looking at Wyatt confidentially. "He's just pissed because he has a girly smell, isn't he?" she smiled knowingly as Wyatt nodded; a familiar evil grin on his face.

"I'm calling him Cherry Chris—ChCh for short."

"Yeah, 'cuz chocolate is so manly," grumbled Pearl, biting into a brownie.

Tasha smiled once more. "Giving in?"

"I can't help it! Turns out Wy got my room too! And—hey." Pearl sniffed the air. "Whose magic is that?"

Tasha turned her head and sniffed too. "What--"

Wyatt burst into laughter. "You two look like a pair of bloodhounds! Which backs up my theory about all teenage girls being bitc--" he stopped midword off Tasha's look. "I think I'll go see what ChCh is doing now."

Tasha turned back to Pearl. "Yeah…I smell it too. A kind of musty, cobwebby smell?"

Pearl nodded. "It…clogs up your nose."

Tasha slowly rotated on the spot. "Yeah, but where's it coming—Pearl!" She ran over to where Pearl was lying on the floor, having collapsed barely a second ago.

"Oh, Pearl, are you okay?" she shook her gently. Pearl didn't move. Hyperventilating, Tasha felt for a pulse, and sighed in relief when she felt a slow, but steady heartbeat. "But what…" her eyes were drawn to Pearl's forearm, in which a jet-black dart was embedded. Tasha looked around frantically, but saw nothing. Her nostrils twitched as she detected the strange, dead sort of smell again.

"Oh, crap." Tasha took a step back. "CHRIS!"

AN: I'm really sorry about the cliffie and it's such a bad one too. BUT I am just exhausted, and I have to get this up today, or else risk you killing me.