Author's Notes: Here's the next chapter!

My personal thanks to: Leonie1988, That70sshowlova for reviewing the last chapter.

I hope you enjoy this chapter.

The Only Ones

By: Piper Chris Melinda Halliwell

Chapter 10: A Well-Kept Secret

Chris lay in bed that night with amusement. He still didn't know what it was about Bianca, but whenever she was around, he felt happy. Sure, she was a Phoenix, but hey, he and his aunt were witches and his brother—if he dared to still call him that—was a warlock. It wasn't that much of a stretch.

He really thought her plan would work too. She said she didn't exist here, so there was no danger of a doppelganger incident. And as she was a Phoenix, Wyatt might consider letting her join. He sighed. He was always on lookout to add more power to his collection. Though Chris shuddered to think how he would get power from her.

Killing her was obvious, but he could already tell from her smile that she could be quite sly and cunning. Which is probably how she survived her timeline, he thought. Though he didn't really know how awful that timeline was, he didn't want that one to turn into this one.

He sat up, pushing the covers back. "Bianca!" he whispered, knowing Phoebe was asleep in the next room. "Bianca, can you hear me?" he tried again. He didn't hear his door squeak, window open or see her shimmer in, so he assumed she was asleep.

"Yes?" she asked from the corner of the room, making Chris jump and fall off of his bed. She laughed as she walked over and helped him up, catching his annoyed, yet amused expression. "What do you need?"

He sat on his bed next to her. For once he was glad his blinds were open because he had no need to turn on his light. The moonlight shone from the far side of his room, illuminating half of his bed and half of her body. Her beautiful, fully developed, yet battle-scarred body…

"Chris?" she asked. He was lost in thought, but she knew—from personal experience with his older self—what the look on his face was. Sure, he was half her age, but, in the end, what is age really? Just a couple numbers. Though she was glad he was well into puberty. She sighed. That would be way more complicated if he wasn't. Then I really would be a pedophile, she thought.

"Chris!" she said, louder this time in hoping to jar him from his inexperienced lust.

He jumped. "Wha—yeah, I'm here."

She smiled though the moonlight. "Why did you call me?"

"I was just thinking…"



"About what? You seemed pretty lost."

"You and—"

She sighed inwardly, but deep down she had to stop this. He was so young and if, God forbid, Wyatt threw her to the dogs, he would only be hurt again—probably worse than last time. "Chris," she began as she took his hand, "as flattered as I am. I-I-I don't—" This was so hard. She did love him, no matter how old he was.

He caught the hesitation in her eyes. "You know, don't you? You think I'm a crazy pervert now, right?" he asked, standing and yanking his hand away.

She stayed silent. The tone of his voice sounded so broken that she wanted to walk over, hug him and never let him go, but she wasn't sure how he would respond. Yes, he was a hormone-crazed 14-year-old, but he was the one she'd fallen in love with…again.

"I knew it couldn't be true! I knew she lied!"

"Who Chris?"

He leaned against his closed door. "My Aunt Phoebe! She said you loved me! That was why you went back in the first place." He sniffed, swallowing hard. "Said I gave you my mom's ring as a symbol I'd come back, but how could I? I died!" he cried, sliding down the door.

Against everything, Bianca willingly got up and walked over to sit beside him. She sighed. "You see, that's just it, Chris. I do love you, even now, though I don't know if I love you or your memory. And that, in itself is dangerous. But you're only 14 and if I do this and he rejects me, we'll never be together."

"Why is it dangerous?"

"You'd be competing with a ghost and that wouldn't be a healthy relationship."

He shrugged. "So, I'll learn from you. About what you want, what you need and who you are."

"Are you saying you love me?" she asked confused. "I know you're hormone aren't even close to being sorted out yet, so how can you love me that much?"

He sighed. "I'm not sure." He wiped his eyes. "Aunt Phoebe always says that love has no boundaries, so maybe his love for you was somehow transferred to me because you're here."

She smiled. "That's a nice thought, but you can't prove it. Not when you're this young."

"So, you want me to wait until we're closer in age?" he asked laughing. "That's not gonna happen!"

She nodded. "Yeah, I know. I don't mean wait for that. Let your hormones settle a little. Search yourself and see how you feel. The answer may not be the love I have, not at first anyway."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know what you mean, but I do feel…something for you. Like something I'll never find anywhere else. Maybe it is that. I mean it could be, right?"

"Maybe because I know you love me. You always have."

"The 'other' me, you mean? 'I' haven't always loved you. 'I' just met you."

"Yes, you're right. All those things she said about you and me were true too."

"So…do you think it'll happen?"

"Possibly. If everything goes mostly according to our plan which we have yet to come up with." She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and he laid his head on hers.

"Hey, is there anything I can do to prevent things? You know, like if I'd been stronger or smarter. Anything like that?"

She thought for a moment before replying. "No, I think you had what you needed. You just didn't get the chance to return."

He yawned and she felt him relax against her. "I suppose you want me back in my bed?"

"Well, it is pretty late, Chris," she said as she stood with him on her shoulder. She sat him down and he fell asleep before she could pull the covers over him. She smiled. He looked so peaceful, so childlike, but he always had when he slept.

She sighed. She had someplace she needed to visit before he awoke. Glancing at his peaceful state one final time, she shimmered away.

She arrived just outside the door of her not-so-former home. She couldn't hear anyone inside, so carefully she opened the door, seeing the apartment was vacant. Still, the Phoenix smiled upon hearing the old hinges creek. It used to be the only warning she got when her mother arrived home from work.

It usually meant she had to scurry back to her room. She sighed, closing the door. Her powers had been so unpredictable as a child and most of the time her mother brought a friend home with her. Whether they were mortal or demonic she'd never known.

Either way, it was best she hid. If her powers surfaced when a demon was near her mother had warned her of the trouble it would cause, whether she would mean to show them or not.

She walked the empty hallway, her boots echoing on the hardwood floor until she came to her mother's bedroom. With a shaky hand, Bianca turned the knob and opened the door. She slipped in soundlessly, which was surprising even to her with her boots and walked straight to the hope chest at the end of the bed.

To others it looked locked but Bianca knew the secret to opening it. Realistically, it was cursed by her ancestors to keep others away. If anyone other than a direct descendant opened it, they would be engulfed in flames and casted into Purgatory.

She laughed a bit, finding it similar to the Book of Shadows as only a direct descendant could remove it from the house. But while the ancient knowledge book kept evil away, this hope chest didn't. If she were to die, somehow the chest would know and would open for the only one who is directly tied to her soul. Which would be Chris. It doesn't matter how old he is, she thought.

She knocked five consecutive times in various spots and the lid flipped open. Inside she found various books and papers on her ancestry and while she was intrigued, Bianca knew they would do no good right now so she took them out and set them on the floor beside her. Digging to the bottom, she found the bottom lined with a velvet cloth.

Curious, she felt the bottom. Surely something this buried had to hide something. She pressed down with both hands in the center and found a hold about the size of her fist. Quickly, she swiped up the cloth with one hand and was shocked with what truly lined the bottom of the chest.

"Blood?" she breathed. Dried crimson was pooled at the bottom. It gave her an odd feeling. As if she knew whose blood it was. But how could she? Her mother had destroyed their chest before she died. She stuck her hand through the hole and pulled out a small snow white satchel.

The satchel felt like it belonged in her hands. She pulled back and set it in her lap. untying it and dumping the contents into her hand she found a necklace with a small onyx-black stone and a larger stone of the same color.

Grasping the three items for dear life she stood and walked over the vanity mirror. Wiping away the years of dust, she set the large stone and satchel down and hooked the jewelry around her. Instantly, her eyes sparkled with power beyond her comprehension. It wasn't evil, not in her hands anyway. She smiled. She could easily picture her mother staring back at her wearing it, but she didn't know why.

Stuffing the larger stone back in the satchel, tying it around her ankle and hiding it in her boot for safekeeping, she turned back to the papers and books of her ancestry. There had to be something in one of these books that told her what these stones were for.

She checked her watch and found that an hour had already flown by while searching the contents of the chest. She sat on the ground and pulled the books down with her. She scanned through the lose papers. They were obituary notices of her ancestor's deaths.

Bianca picked up the thickest book and read it intently. She processed every word, hoping to find something about the beautiful black stones. There was nothing in that book and she sighed in frustration. She let the book flop closed and the worn pages produced a puff of dust.

She drug another book closer and opened to the first page with a resigned huff of breath. She already knew it was a lost cause, but read it anyway. Near the end, written in on a blank page in sloppy cursive was a tiny passage.

It showed a picture of the onyx stones with a brief description of their history.

It contained the most ancient black magic known to anyone. Dangerous if used in the wrong hands, especially the ones with white-magic blood. Powerful and deadly.

The sentences barely satisfied her curiosity.

"Like Chris?" she asked herself. She mouthed the next words, making sure not to make a single sound. "Or even Wyatt?"

Did this mean that Chris couldn't touch it? Or just that it shouldn't fall into Wyatt's hands? She didn't know. But she thought she knew someone who could help her figure it out. She folded up the papers and held on tight to them as she shimmered away.

A knock awoke Phoebe from a sound sleep. Slightly irritated but knowing if it was this late it had to be important, she pushed back the covers and walked over to the door.

"Who is it?" she asked through a yawn.

"Bianca," she answered softly.

Quietly, Phoebe unlocked and opened her door. "What is it?"

"I just-I found something of my mother's and I was wondering if you could help me with something."

Phoebe stepped to the side and the girl entered. She then shut the door and they walked over and sat on her bed.

Bianca handed her the papers and the satchel.

Grabbing her glasses, she read the papers carefully for a few moments. "And you found this where?" she asked turning her attention away from the papers a second.

"In my mother's hope chest. Its important, isn't it? I wasn't sure."

Phoebe nodded. "Yes, though I'm not sure exactly why."

Bianca cocked a brow. "You're not getting a Premonition? I thought you would, being as the papers were important."

She sighed. "Sometimes they come in my dreams."

Bianca stood. "Well, we should probably get some sleep. It is almost three in the morning." She said walking over to the door.

"Oh, Bianca?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"Do…you have somewhere to stay?"

She bit her lip. "I was planning on going back to my mother's vacant apartment. Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"No, as long as you're hell-bent on helping us," Phoebe threw a pillow and blanket at her feet, "you'll stay here. It's only fair."

Bianca froze in shock. No one—aside from Chris—had ever been genuinely nice to her in her life. She bent down and picked up the items. "The living room couch? I wouldn't expect anything better than that. They're your sisters and unless you ask for my help their things in their rooms will stay in their places."

Phoebe nodded. "Yes. And someday I would like help with that."

Bianca smiled. "Just say when. Goodnight."


Bianca shimmered out.

A/N: Yes, I made a little side-story out of this chapter. And it's also verrrrrrrry short. From this point on, I have no idea the length of the chapters (although if there is a good fight. it'll probably be long).

The infiltration is coming -within the next few chapters, it'll probably be split up- just not this next chapter, but it'll get there.

Oh and thanks to That70sShowLova for helping me out a bit!

I hope everyone likes this chapter. It was long overdue!

Chapter 11: Keeping the 'Can Do' Attitude Alive

Please R & R!

Piper Chris Melinda Halliwell