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: LILY SMITH D thanks so much for your email; it brightened my day and made me get my butt into overdrive to finally produce this. You're a star, honey. This update is a little longer than usual, and it's all for ya!
Disclaimer: CHARMED IS NOT MINE. ALSO, I STOLE LINES FROM MY FAVOURITE SONG IN A MUSICAL I LOVE, AND THAT MUSICAL ISN'T MINE EITHER (no duh).
Important Note: I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY! I know that this update is BEYOND late, but I've been so so so busy! What with exams two months away -- but there's really no excuse for this one. All I can say is that I've been totally lazy, and there's been a certain someone who has been monopolizing my time. Not that I mind. However, deepest apologies to all and sundry. And I promise I will not abandon this. Unless y'all really hate it after all. But rest assured, if my feedback continues to be positive, this won't end, as I started out with a more or less clear image of where I wanted it to go. Thanks for your patience )
Oh, and like I said in the disclaimer…there're lyrics from a musical somewhere in this. I DARE YA to find them. Cookies to whichever reader does—and if you do find it, please leave your email address in the review so I can contact you.
Chapter Thirteen
"Hello, I'm Christopher. We were wondering if we could perhaps trouble you for some water? We have walked a long way, and are very thirsty."
Tasha rolled her eyes at his smooth, mellifluous voice. Then she paused, gaped, as the lady in the doorway stepped into the light. She chanced a strangled look at Chris, who looked slightly taken aback.
"Whoa," they both muttered in unison.
"You…you--" Chris stuttered, before Tasha elbowed him sharply. The woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously and she raised a dark eyebrow.
"You are the only house around for quite a while and we were hoping for some hospitality," Tasha quickly covered, trying to use the semi-formal style of talking that Chris had. After all, she had no idea how far back they were. For all she knew, it could be a crime to say 'damn'.
"Come in," said Patience Quinn—for it had to be she—opening the door wider. Tasha nudged the still-gaping Chris in and entered herself.
"Your husband seems touched by sun. Or is he merely as shocked as I at our resemblance?"
For that was what had Chris and Tasha so stunned at the door—Patience Quinn looked like Chris. The same snapping green eyes, the same delicate cheekbones and strong chin. The same defiant yet vulnerable expression. While Patience's hair was lighter and she looked far more feminine than he, the similarities were undeniable. And it was this that truly communicated to Tasha the severity of the situation—one small misstep, and she could obliterate the entire Halliwell line.
However, there were more weighty things to deal with at that point. Like—
"He's not my husband!" Tasha cried in disbelief. Chris stirred and frowned. "What, that's such a scary thought?" he muttered to her nastily. "More like nauseating," she hissed back, before raising her eyes to Patience, who was looking rather ominous at this point. She leaned forward and placed two ceramic mugs filled with tea onto the table.
"Thank you. My name is Tasha, and my friend here is Chris—"
"I am Patience Quinn. And I tire of this charade." She quickly crossed the room and shut the door, before sitting in front of the pair and gazing at them with kind yet tired eyes. "I know who you are. I know you are from the future. I just do not know exactly why."
Tasha and Chris gaped again, but this time it was Chris who regained composure first. "How do you know?"
Patience smiled. "It is my gift. It started with just empathy, but then progressed to where I don't only sense emotions, but also have the ability to sense what powers are in the air, what powers surround me. It comes in useful when there are warlocks or demons around. I sensed Whitelighter magic around you, and realized that my premonition last night was happening sooner than I thought."
"You have premonitions as well? What was it of?" Tasha asked, while mentally cursing the fact that she just couldn't escape from those darn empaths.
"Yes. I have three powers in all, premonitions, my sixth sense, and the gift of moving objects with my mind. My premonition last night was more a dream…a feeling. I felt danger, but a sense of comfort that help would be arriving in a long time."
"But if—oh, I get it." Tasha nodded. Arriving in a long time…they were technically several centuries away.
"Indeed. Now I must ask, who are you? Or rather, what, as it is a much more fitting question." Patience shook her fair hair out and fixed them with a steady look. She was far too trusting, reflected Chris. Although with her power, perhaps she knew who and when to trust.
That, thought Chris, would be a damn useful power to have.
"I'm a Whitelighter. I'm her Whitelighter, in fact," Chris motioned to Tasha. "She is…uh…she's complicated."
Tasha shot him a dirty look, but Patience merely laughed. "You see how I mistook you for married?" she began, a challenging undertone to her voice. "And yes, she is complicated. I sense evil in you, Tasha." Her tone was frank, blunt, and Tasha recoiled slightly from it. "But fortunately, much more good. I wouldn't have let you into my house otherwise." A nod. "Now, why have you returned? What do I owe my life to you for, for I am certain that you play a large role?"
Chris noticed Tasha was still reeling from the 'evil' comment, and he discreetly slipped an arm around Tasha's waist, applying a comforting pressure to her hip. She shook herself slightly and leaned into him.
"The problem is your fiancé. John Hollis."
Patience tensed. "My fiancé is a good man, a decent man. If you are truly from the future, then you know that I told him of my heritage just last night. And you also know that he took it not as well as I had hoped, but much better than I had expected. I trust John, and I love him with all my heart. I know he loves me, and he will not betray me."
Chris rolled his eyes inwardly. He had Patience's measure: open, frank, and blunt. Meddlesome. Honest to a fault. But unthinking, certainly—Aunt Phoebe, only with better English.
"I'm sure he won't, Patience," Tasha began hesitantly, breaking out of her reverie.
"But his brother is a different story."
Patience looked at her piercingly. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, that he told his brother," snapped Tasha, going into what Chris recognized as her classic defense—anger. Whenever she was confronted with something she didn't want to hear, something she'd rather did not exist, Tasha would quickly lapse into either anger, humor, or avoidance; and it looked like the former here.
"He told his brother Michael. And Michael told everyone else and you were killed, Patience. That's what your love got you."
Patience's blood drained from her face. "No…I asked John to be silent!"
"He was. He only told the one person he felt he could trust, his brother. And I guess his brother wasn't all that trustworthy." Chris made a face, and shot a 'calm-down' look at Tasha, who rolled her eyes.
"But…oh, I see. The fool, the utter fool," Patience sobbed. Tasha looked like she'd like to pass a comment, but Chris quickly leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Don't get her mad. If you two get into a fight, I might end up not existing." He brushed his lips against her cheek softly, and returned to his original position, smirking inwardly at the expression on Tasha's face.
So, whenever I kiss her, she shuts up. Gotta remember that one.
"You do not understand," Patience said presently, once she had mastered her emotions. "Michael…is a warlock."
"WHAT!" Chris and Tasha yelled in unison, before breaking into a flurry of speech.
"Why didn't you do anything about him before? Don't you vanquish warlocks in this time? You're letting your feelings cloud your duty here, sweetie!"
"You knew and you didn't warn John? What kind of situation were you putting him in? What if--" Chris stopped as Patience held a placating hand out for silence.
"I assure you, I thought of all angles painstakingly. I could have vanquished Michael, but John would have been devastated. I could have told John, but I only recently had the courage to tell him what I was. I couldn't also add on the burden of knowing that his brother, his only brother was a force of evil. You must understand. I didn't know what to do." Patience looked tearful. "Tasha—you are as full of emotion as I am. Could you harm Christopher in any way? If there was something about yourself that he might consider shameful, would you tell him?"
Tasha raised an eyebrow. She looked supremely discomfited as she realized what Patience was talking about, and she could feel Chris' eyes on her. "You're full of something lady, and I don't think it's love."
"I beg your pardon?" Patience asked, confused. Chris tried to hide his smile as Tasha sighed and gave in. "I understand your reasons Patience. But the fact remains—you are in grave danger. Let us assume that John has already told his brother. Could Michael have gone to the authorities yet?"
Patience shook her head. "Michael is on a long voyage and returns only this evening. I propose that we hasten to my beloved's home now and inform him of this treachery. Michael has been trying to find out who the witch in his presence is for years now—if it wasn't for my ability to sense powers, I would have never realized he wanted to steal mine. Fortunately, I have been able to cloak myself magically. But now I see he must be stopped. I cannot lose John, and I cannot lose you, Christopher. I cannot lose the child I will one day bear and her child and her child after that."
At the shocked faces, she gave an impish grin that broke the seriousness of the moment. "Do not look so surprised—the similarity we harbor in our features alone would give it away. And may I profess my surprise that there is a male in our proud heritage."
"Uh…I'll tell my mom you said so. And for the record…my name is Christopher, but just call me Chris."
Patience nodded, and swung the door open. "Very well, Chris and Tasha. Shall we proceed?"
"Hang on, why don't you just orb us Chris?" Tasha broke in.
Chris looked guilty. "Uh, Tasha…you may not know this one, but since we're back in time and haven't been born yet…we don't have our powers."
"What?" Tasha looked horrified. "And you're telling me this now? But…what…we're here though, so haven't we already been born? I mean…if we're here then we've obviously been born so even though we aren't born yet we're still…"
"Don't try it sweetheart."
Tasha glared at him, and stomped towards the door. "I hate time travel."
xxx
Tasha wandered along, lost in her thoughts. The grass beneath her feet crackled lightly, in time with her steps, while behind her Chris padded softly. Just a few feet before her Patience and John were walking, hands intertwined and whispering softly. Patience laughed suddenly, despite the gravity of the situation. Tasha felt a stab of jealousy, and quickly quelled it.
They had reached John Hollis' house in record time, and between the three of them had made the dark-haired, blue-eyed man comprehend the situation. He had been filled with disbelief at one point, refusing to believe that his beloved brother was, in fact, evil. However, with some urging and tears on Patience's part (and some threats on her own), he had finally realized that certain traits his brother posses tied in with certain 'accidents' that had occurred.
Murders, he means. Tasha thought contemptuously, before shaking herself. John and Patience were both fine people, and very much in love. She couldn't understand what, exactly, irritated her so much about them. In fact, if circumstances were different—say, if this was a movie, she would have found them sweet and absolutely touching. As it were, she instead couldn't help resenting them.
However. When John had been convinced, they had agreed—John quite despairingly—that evil in any form had to be stopped. For that reason they were now marching along oh-so-cozily in some godforsaken forest to get the Book of Shadows that contained the handy-dandy vanquish Patience had written 'just in case'. Why the HECK would she hide something so important in the middle of a damned forest! What if she needed it in a hurry?
Chris snickered, and linked his arm with hers. "Because she's memorized all of the basic stuff she needs in an emergency Tasha, so wipe that look off your face."
"What, have you progressed into mind-reading now?" Tasha asked sarcastically.
"Nah. I just know you," he confided, blowing a wayward strand of hair on her face. She brushed at it irritably and yanked her arm away. "Whatever. The sooner we get there, the better."
With that, she marched ahead quickly, not looking back. Chris gazed after her, and frowned. Oh yeah. She wants you, Halliwell. Gah.
xxx
Patience noticed Tasha stomping along just behind her, and quickly released John's hand. "Allow me to see to this," she whispered. "There's a situation similar to our beginnings happening here, and a denial of affection is simply the saddest occurrence around." John raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and Patience quickly filled him in on the vibe she had picked up on between the two time-travelers. John chuckled. "I'll see what I can do with the young man there. It's rather early to be giving great-great-great grandfatherly advice, but I suppose it is practice."
He slowed his pace, letting Tasha pass by him, and smiled as Patience turned and began a conversation. Pausing a moment to reflect on how lucky he was, how blessed to have such a wonderful woman in his life, he sighed contentedly. I would give my life for her.
"Tasha, we must speak." Patience said, patting the young girl on the arm. Tasha shot her a curious look, and shrugged. "Go on."
"I understand that you do not like me or this situation very much, and I apologize. I see that it is due mostly to my comment concerning yours and Chris' relationship, and because of my observation of the evil in you. Firstly, you must understand that my recognition of evil was merely your power signature, and not you. I sensed demonic gifts—something rooted in flame. I also sensed great good, a power that could affect the entire world. So Tasha, please do not hold that against me."
"I don't, Patience. It's just that I've recently been worried about the evil in me. I am part demon, and I'm sometimes scared of what's underneath the surface."
Patience patted her comfortingly. "Your Whitelighter will keep you out of trouble, as I am sure mine would if I allowed her to."
Tasha laughed at this.
"But this brings me to my next worry, Tasha. Chris has deep feelings for you, but there's such an undercurrent of sadness and confusion. He is my flesh and blood, and although I shall never see his birth while I am in the land of the living, I still have the right to worry. I can sense fear in you, Tasha, and this disturbs me. She who fears love, fears life, and whosoever fears life is three-parts dead. Now, I understand that you do not wish to discuss all this, but bear in mind that you will never see me again. I am not in your lifetime, and I am a stranger for the most part. There is an incredible comfort in baring your heart to a stranger. This is an opportunity, and should be treated thus."
Tasha looked at her in shock. How many times had she wished for this—someone who knew nothing about her, and yet she could identify with.
Oh what the hell. Go for it.
"A wise decision." Patience nodded, her empathy kicking in.
"Okay, can you stop that? It's creepy. Is my head made of glass or something?" Patience looked confused, so Tasha shook her head and continued. "Patience, I don't want to detract from the seriousness of the situation, but your offer is just way to tempting to pass up. So here goes. Chris and I…damn! Can't you just read my mind and tell me what to do?"
"No-one can do that, my dear. It is up to you entirely. Let me just tell you this: I sense blooming love. He adores you, he thinks of you with every breath. I can sense you don't see this at all, but if a total outsider can see it, then my dear, you need to open your eyes. Because in his own, there's such caring and protectiveness. He looks as though he would destroy anything that even tried to hurt you. He feels your pain as his own. He looks at you as though you are the sun and the moon, and each time his eyes settle on you, it is as though he's seeing you for the first time. I can feel his protectiveness, his veritable adoration from even here."
Tasha swallowed. "That's pretty heavy. I haven't known him all that long—"
"And yet you have kissed?"
"Well, yes. But the first time he was under a spell and was rather confused--"
"And yet he still ran to you. And the other times?"
"Just one other. It was, uh, right after the spell was taken off. He approached me about his actions when under the spell, and I tried to reassure him by saying that I knew he was confused. He responded by…uh…well, yeah."
Patience tried hard to hide her smile. "Tasha…I cannot say much to you except that I see you feel for him as much as he feels for you. The difference is that you are trying to hide it and deny it from even yourself. Why?"
"Because…because I'm…" Tasha closed her eyes and let herself go. "Because I'm scared. I've lived my whole life pretty much alone. The wild girl, the loner…the one who doesn't need anybody. He then enters my life, and in pretty much a second, all that goes flying out the window. He…I don't know how to explain this, but everything seems right when I'm around him. But Patience, I will not act on this, you understand? I'll end up hurt, he'll end up hurt…I'm just not ready for anything like this. I've only recently found out what I am, and I don't want to add some more complications into the mix. Things are after me Patience—forces I can't even begin to comprehend. The logical thing to do would be use Chris to get to me, and that's already happened once. I don't want it to happen again, because then it might just be fatal." She frowned. "Plus, he's a total player. And much too charming for his own good."
"I understand. Tasha, my advice to you is…when the day comes where you can't stand not being with him, or seeing him with someone else, then the time to approach him has arrived. Then be honest with both yourself and him. Until then…everyone needs friends, Tasha." Patience raised an eyebrow significantly.
She's right. But oh…how I wish things were easy. This isn't a fairytale, no matter how much like Prince Charming Chris is. I'm definitely no princess. And it's easier to just be…well, sarcastic and bitchy around him. I can't let him get too close.
I'd rather die. Because if he gets too close…he'll wish he hadn't. He doesn't need a girl like me. Every so often, we long to steal to the land of what-might-have-been, but that doesn't soften the ache we feel when reality sets back in. He needs a girl who can be there for him, who sees what a perfect guy he is. Who recognizes his beauty and his true soul. Don't dream too far, Tash. Don't remember that rush of joy. He may be that boy, but I'm not that girl. Don't wish, don't start, wishing only wounds the heart.
"I think you are that girl, my dear. But you'll see that one day. Things work out when they are meant to be." Patience whispered to herself softly.
xxx
Only a few feet behind them, John Hollis was working his own spiel on a wary Chris. Although the two had hit it off immediately—Chris saw an unnerving similarity in their attitudes towards life—when the topic turned to Tasha, he clammed up.
"An unrequited love perhaps?"
Chris feigned nonchalance. "What makes you think there's anything between us?"
John laughed maddeningly. "I've seen the way you look at her, young friend. But I see more than your fair share of lust in your eyes. I warn you, I cannot think well of any man that sports with a woman's feelings."
Chris' quickly tamped down his momentary flare of anger. "Then there should be no problem, John. I wouldn't…." he trailed off, and John nodded.
"You have deep affection for her."
"What, are you some sort of witch as well?"
"I think not. Merely a soul in love." He gazed at Patience adoringly, and Chris felt a twinge of envy. Things aren't always that cut-and-dried Halliwell. Maybe in this century, but not in yours.
"I must ask, Chris, because if I do not—let us be frank—my wife-to-be will be most displeased with the both of us. What is there between the two of you? How do you feel about her?"
Chris shot a sidelong look at John. "It's…it's complicated."
"Indeed?" John merely raised an eyebrow and sighed. "It is not my place to know, or to ask. I merely think I shall tell you now, Christopher, that: love is not a decision. It is a feeling. If we could decide who we loved, why, and when; it would be much simpler—but much less…magical."
No speech like that had ever been said to Chris before. He wasn't quite sure how to reply to it, so he said nothing. But deep in his mind, he answered John's earlier question.
How do I feel about her? I crave her. I can't get enough of her. When I'm around her I want to stay there forever and keep her protected, and when I touch her…I want to swallow her whole.
Patience's voice cut into his reverie. "We have arrived!"
Chris looked around at their surroundings. They had reached a small clearing that was dominated by a circle of standing stones. He drew his breath in sharply. There were nine of them in total, and each was as tall as a man. In the centre was a flat slab of rock about six feet by three feet, and no higher than his knee.
"Is this…" Tasha trailed off in awe.
"It is thought that they were brought here by an ancient, pagan race many ages ago. I discovered it quite by accident, and I have found that it magnifies powers to an impressive degree."
Tasha couldn't help but be transfixed by the circle, not just by the enormity of the stones themselves, but by the…feeling she got from them. From her very bones to the tips of her little fingers, she could feel the power and possibilities that surrounded the circle; and that was from three feet away. She shivered to think of the feeling she would get from standing on the flat slab, and almost automatically took several steps towards it, but was stopped when Chris grabbed her arm. "Don't," he blurted. "I feel it too—you don't know what it may be."
Tasha shot him an irritated look. "I'm sure Patience wouldn't use this place if it could harm anyone."
Patience shifted uneasily. "As a matter of fact Tasha, I've only stood in that centre slab once, and only once." Two pairs of eyes turned to hers, one pair emerald green and the other sloe black. "Only once—and that time I was almost killed. The raw power surging through them is…enormous. The pain—I…" she shook her head. "I managed to break free and crawl out, and when I regained consciousness, a full two days had passed and I was still weak."
"But it didn't kill you." Tasha challenged.
"I was only in the circle for a mere moment!" Patience snapped. "That circle magnifies the natural power in a being—Chris and you are far more powerful than I and would easily be annihilated."
Tasha frowned. "I don't like it…but whatever. Where is the book?"
Patience walked to a nearby tiny cairn of stones, and lifted them one by one. "The book is safe here. It's protected by spells that only one of my bloodline can pass—to anyone else this is merely a simple monument, and if one tried to move it, the rocks would be much too heavy."
She pulled a roughly-hewn wooden box out of the pit and opened it. Inside was the Book of Shadows, just as Tasha had seen in the future, only thinner and much less worn. She couldn't help her little intake of breath and Chris patted her. "It's…weird knowing that you've seen it before, but never seen precisely that."
"The spell for vanquishing Michael is here." Patience pulled out a small slip of parchment, and looked at John worriedly. "My love, I…"
"Shhh," he said, placing a calloused finger against her lips. "What must be must be. I love you more than life itself, and anything that would try to take you away from me, much less destroy you, is evil by my mind. And evil—must be stopped."
His eyes told the real story, the story of the pain he felt inside. Tasha noticed this, and turned to Chris.
"They won't be able to do it. Chris, trust me. They'll summon him and they won't be able to do it."
Chris looked uncertain.
"Dammit Chris, I know what I'm talking about. See the look in his eyes? See that look reflected in hers? When push comes to shove, they won't be able to pull the trigger. We have to do it."
Chris raised an eyebrow at this last part, and Tasha smacked his arm. "Hello? I was having a GI Jane moment, and you had to wreck it with some cheesy innuendo!"
"I didn't say a word." Pause. Glare. "Okay, okay. Let's give them a chance here, and if they can't…we do it."
Tasha's turn to raise an eyebrow. Chris smirked.
"I knew I'd corrupt you, given enough time."
Patience called over to them, "I shall begin now."
"Go ahead, sweetie." Tasha called back, and hissed at Chris under her breath: "Be ready."
"Always." Chris frowned, as though something had occurred to him.
"What?"
"The stones. There are nine…that just rings a bell. As though…never mind. Just, nine is such a strange number for there to be in a standing stone circle."
"Thrice to thine and thrice to mine, and thrice again to make up nine." Tasha murmured, the Shakespearean verse striking a chord somewhere deep inside her. Some hidden, forgotten knowledge seemed to push at her mind, something that yearned to be remembered.
Patience raised her arms in the air, standing at the edge of a stone.
On the wind and across the sea,
Hear my call and answer me.
Warlock damned, I bid thee appear,
In this time of now and here!
A flash of blinding light; and smoke tendrils rose from the ground before Patience, who nimbly stepped away. From the smog, a figure appeared. Cloaked in black, with the hood thrown back to reveal a strong, cruel face, he spoke.
"So, I see the day has come. I didn't know that you were the one who I was searching for, but I had my suspicions."
Without another word, he conjured a fireball and threw it at Patience, who seemed frozen. John dived at her and pushed her out of the way, rolling her over and over to put out her burning sleeve.
"Brother…please, stop!"
Michael Hollis laughed. "I am not your brother, fool, and I never was."
With that, the swarthy man began to change. His stature increased—from six feet to eight, to ten. His shoulders broadened and the cloak strained at the seams. His teeth elongated, and his face—monstrous. Gold and blue warred on his face, in a combination that should have been beautiful but was merely grotesque.
"Demon," Tasha and Chris breathed, seconds before Chris launched himself at the monster.
"Chris!"
Too late, Chris recalled his utter powerlessness. The demon tossed him aside with a mere wave of his hand, and he crashed to the ground. With a glance, he moved towards the terrified Patience, who was despite her fear trying to step in front of John, who was blocking her from Michael's view.
"Idiots and fools! You are going to die." Michael cackled, and brought up his hands, bringing them down and calling up a huge gale. It ripped through the boughs and branches of the trees and howled through the stone circle, uprooting shrubbery and tossing aside pages of the Book.
Tasha darted towards the book, and snatched it up. The vanquish spell was, miraculously, right in front of her eyes. She scanned it—it might work if she exchanged a word or two.
Would it work? Only one way to find out.
Here where nature and power are one
This evil shall be destroyed and done.
Demon, disappear from this plane
And suffer all your victim's pain!
Tasha felt a great hiccup rush through her, lifting her off her feet, and Michael roared before turning to Tasha furiously.
"Another one? I will crush you—" he trailed off. "Belial? I sense your blood…what are you, young one? You are on the wrong side—in your veins runs pure evil, but it is tainted!"
Tasha cursed inwardly and raised an eyebrow. "Y'all are worse than an insurance salesman."
"You dare mock me?"
"On occasion."
The demon growled and leaped at her, but before it could—
"GET AWAY FROM HER!" A hoarse cry rang from her left, and Chris came barreling from the side, pushing the demon away, kicking and punching so viciously that it shied off, before shaking itself and growling with hatred. It reached out and slapped Chris as hard as it could, throwing him into a standing stone. He hit with a loud crack, and from her position, Tasha could see a trickle of blood running from his head.
"You think you can defeat me? I, Agoth himself?"
The name struck a bell. An upper-level demon. Powerful, you needed his flesh and countless rare ingredients to destroy him. No spell in that book, and certainly not with only one witch present, would work. She noted this in a detached way. Dimly, she heard Patience and John shouting, branches and rocks moving around her to hit Michael. She felt nothing but horror. If Chris was…if he…nothing would ever be the same. Her legs moved her forward as though she was on castors.
"Tasha! Help us!" The shrill cry broke her out of her daze, and she shook herself.
No time Tasha…later. Oh God…what can I do? I'm powerless, the spell screwed up…
And then she heard, a voice that came not only from within, but also from without.
You are not bound by time and space. You are eternal, you are unique. You are not bound by anything, Tasha Fuller. You are unstoppable. You are forever. You are infinite. You are part of this earth.
Something took her mind and body over, and she could feel an age-old terrible knowledge running through her veins. Terrible, yet powerful. Without stopping to think, without stopping to analyze, she ran.
Ran directly to the centre of the circle.
Why didn't I realize…why didn't I know? Nine stones: Cherubim, Seraphim, Thrones, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Angels, Archangels…and Dominions. This is my circle, I belong here.
And without realizing, without even knowing…words came to her.
I call upon the powers of all,
Of Earth
Of Fire
Of Water
Of Air
Tasha was floating in the centre of the circle, air currents holding her up. Fire had shot up between each gap between the stones, and a rainstorm had struck up. Water pooled in a thin trench that surrounded the centre slab. There was a raised lip of earth that encircled the standing stones.
I call upon heart and soul
I call upon all!
My power is of the ages
And I send you back!
From the pit you crawled
The words came to her, as though being whispered into her ear. It was like a poem, a fantastical magical poem learned long ago, and only now recalled. Vaguely, and with a fierce rush of joy, she saw Chris leaning up groggily, his mouth open and eyes wide.
I send you back!
Mine is the power of the ages
Mine is the power that endures!
I call on the elements, on my power as Dominion
And I SEND YOU BACK!
At her final, triumphant cry, Agoth screamed and quite simply, with no delay or pyrotechnics, sank into the earth. The rain ceased and the clouds faded. An anticlimax beyond denying, but eerily shaking in its simplicity.
Tasha sank to the ground, and realized she was trembling, her entire body quaking. She pulled her head to her knees and sat, shutting her eyes tightly and willing not to cry.
"Tasha," a voice whispered. She looked up to see bright green eyes, moist and worried. She reached out a languorous hand and stroked his cheek. "Are you okay?"
Chris leaned into her touch. "Never better," he smiled crookedly. "We gotta get back Tasha. Can you stand?"
Tasha nodded, and tried to pull herself to her feet, but her muscles wouldn't obey. Chris leaned down, and pulled her up, half-carrying, half-supporting her.
"Leggo, I can walk!"
"You could, but I'm damn well not letting you. Tasha, you're as pale as a ghost."
Tasha took one look at the protectiveness in his eyes, and gave up, leaning into his shoulder and arm.
"Home," she said weakly, pointing towards the blue portal that had appeared.
"Home." Chris agreed. Tasha glanced around to see where Patience and John were—she owed thanks and a farewell. Her eyes alighted on Patience tending to a cut John had received, and she smiled despite her fatigue. They were the picture of love, and Tasha suddenly wanted nothing more than to leave that perfect scene and steal quietly back to her own time, where she belonged.
"Let's just go," she said, brushing her lips over Chris' bare upper arm. He twitched, and nodded, his throat constricting.
xxx
Tasha stepped out onto the balcony, her hot chocolate warming her hand through the porcelain mug. Since arriving several hours before, she had warded off all questions from Pearl with shadowed eyes and a tired demeanor. Pausing only to stop at the Book and read the new words that had appeared; she had gone straight to her room and crashed. A smile touched her lips as she recalled what the words had said.
Love is not a decision. It is a feeling. If we could decide who we loved, why, and when; it would be much simpler—but much less…magical. We thank you, Tasha and Chris, and hope this throws light on the shadows. We owe you our lives and yours.
Chris had behaved oddly upon espying those words, but she had been much too weary to question him.
Speak of the devil.
Chris came up behind her and leaned over the balcony, his forearms propping him up.
"I was worried."
"You worry too much."
"Are you going to tell me what happened?"
Tasha knew immediately what he was referring to, and shook her head. "I don't know Chris. It just struck me…nine types of angel, and nine stones. And then this voice…it just sort of appeared in my head. The entire time we were near those stones, I felt something…sort of whispering to me. And then you were knocked out and I was so scared, and everything just sort of…clicked. And I had this feeling of knowing something so important and secret, like…the cure to everything bad. And I knew I knew it, but now…I can barely recall what I said."
"It was…coooool."
Tasha giggled despite herself. "Totally Buffy, huh?"
"Absolutely. We should call you Wonder Wiccan."
"What happened?"
"Well, I was unconscious for a lot of it, but I saw…fire and water and air and earth sort of surrounding you in this blur. And you screaming some sort of incantation—I can't even remember the words. I can recall the feeling though—power. Pure, raw power, Tasha. And that was…amazing. I felt so much…electricity in the air."
Tasha shook her head, and Chris knew the subject was dropped. He moved on to something he thought less unnerving.
"The Book changed."
"Yeah, I saw. What did that line mean though, about love and magic?" Tasha saw from the corner of her eyes Chris looking supremely discomfited.
"Ah, just something John and I were discussing."
"Oh really?" Those weasels! Those sneaky weasels!
"Yeah. Life, love, that kind of thing."
Tasha considered his words. "Life is a gift. Cliché, I know, but it's true. There's so much we don't see because we don't reach out and try to catch it as it goes by. Life goes on, but it's also as fragile and as fleeting as a falling star."
He swallowed loudly. "And love?"
Tasha turned to face him, and that was a mistake. Those emerald eyes caught her and held her almost hypnotized.
"Uh…"
For the life of her she couldn't move her eyes away from his. She also felt, rather than saw, that he was moving closer and closer to her.
"I think it's a big word. It holds…a universe in itself. Responsibilities, promises, expectations, hope and joy and…" She remembered the look in Chris' eyes when he had jumped at Agoth to protect her. "…Protectiveness rolled into one. It's not something anyone should ever take lightly. To me…it's pretty scary, giving your self and committing yourself like that. It's…terrifying, really."
He leaned even closer to her and searched her face with his sparkling eyes. Her breathing rate increased and her raven eyes widened.
"Are you afraid of me, Tasha?"
Her breath was coming quicker as he leaned his head down even further and closed his eyes. She opened her suddenly dry mouth and confided in a whisper, "Terrified."
He placed his fingers under her chin and dipped his head those final inches to press his lips against hers. It was a hesitant touch at first, but when her lips parted and she kissed him back he responded with the pent-up feelings he felt raging inside.
He knew that now was not the time to get involved in a steamy kiss, but the delicateness and gentleness of this kiss was as erotic and memorable as any other he had experienced in his short life. She rocked him to the core and at that precise instant…he knew he was lost.
©WalkThruTheFire, 28th March 2005
A/N: Mwahaha. I hope you liked it, and be sure of more to come, because now the action really starts. Her denial is starting to end (THANK GOD) but she's still gonna be a little edgy. Tut tut, commitment issues, this one.
Anyway, please read and review. I have no idea how I'm doing at this point. Let's try and get that number to triple figures sometime soon, eh? Not that I'm hinting anything at all, no, not me…lalala. But honestly, feedback! Like it? Hated it? Loved it? Want to string me up and poke me to death?