Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed or Chris…unfortunately. If I did, there would be a spinoff series about the Charmed Sons and Season 8 and Billie would never have happened.
Summary: Some people are just meant to be together. In the Changed Future, Chris finds himself drawn to the assassin-witch who tried to take his life. There's just something about her that seems so familiar. Chris/Bianca Oneshot.
The word was a whisper, torn from his lips as he stared at the page for what must have been the millionth time. In all nineteen years of his life, no other page in the entire Book of Shadows fascinated Chris Halliwell like this one did. There was just something, deep in the recesses of his mind, which stirred and ached whenever he happened upon this particular page.
"Chris?" He glanced up to see his mother watching up curiously, head cocked slightly at an angle. With a forced half smile, he closed the book. "Chris, is something wrong? What are you looking for?"
"Nothing," he lied easily. Sometimes it scared him that he could lie like this, as if it was an ability he was born with.
"Right. Uh, honey, aren't you supposed to be at school?" Piper was worried, this wasn't the first time in recent months that she had stumbled upon her son, staring at the Book with an intense look of concentration on his face.
Chris shrugged, ignoring the worried look his mother was giving him. "Mom, it's Saturday, they don't have classes on Saturday even in college."
Piper nodded slowly. "Wyatt and Melinda are coming for dinner. Are you going to stay as well?" Her middle child nodded, making a small gesture with his hand to signify that he wished to be alone. "Okay, Wyatt should be here soon and dinner starts in a half-hour." Taking a quick glance back at her son, Piper headed back to the kitchen, glad that she had cooked more than was needed.
Once his mother was gone, Chris turned back to the Book and traced the triquetra on the cover. The Power of Three, the power of that his mother and her sisters had, the power that he and his siblings had inherited. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the demon that shimmered in behind him. Spinning around at the last second, he just narrowly missed an energy ball that was aimed for him.
Glancing over at his attacker, he saw a young woman facing him. Her long auburn hair fell in waves down her back, and she wore a tight leather outfit that provided good mobility. On the inside of her right arm was a distinctive birthmark that betrayed her origins. Realization struck him, and for the second time that day, one word escaped his lips. "Phoenix."
The woman smirked slowly, summoning an athame into her hand. "So you've heard of my coven." The woman smiled as she began sidestepping, circling her prey.
Chris just stared coldly, orbing his athame to him. He watched the woman's moves, sizing her up. He knew he should probably call his siblings, seeing as they were only downstairs after all, but something stopped him. This, he knew, was his battle to fight. Watching her with his peripheral vision, he was able to see the exact moment that she lunged for him. Bringing his athame up, he slid to the right a little bit, so that she just grazed his shirt. Holding his arm steady, he braced for her weight to slam onto his knife.
The woman smirked again as she shimmered at the last second. He was able to lunge before she completely dematerialized, slicing through the buckle on her shirt. She appeared behind him, running her fingers over the slice. "Such a shame, I really like this outfit."
Unable to resist, Chris deliberately took his time in looking her over, starting at her feet and slowly drawing his gaze up her body. Now smirking at her, he replied, "It's not bad."
Their eyes met as they stared at each other for a long moment. Something stirred deep in Chris' chest, a strangely familiar feeling, almost like an ache. Taking a deep breath to quell the sudden emotion, Chris resumed the attack. The woman ducked to the side, spinning around to stab him in the back. Chris orbed behind her, receiving a hard blow to the stomach as he materialized. "Uggh," he moaned, "so you do like it rough."
She glared at him, bringing her athame up to slam it into his heart. He grabbed her wrist, twisting her around so that her back was pinned against him. "Who hired you?" he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her soft skin. She eased against him, their proximity causing her to let unconsciously let her guard down.
"Come on," she gasped out, from pain, fear, or something else Chris couldn't define, "you know I can't tell you that."
"Such a shame," he taunted, "since I really do like that outfit on you." Drawing one hand along her thigh, he used to other to bring the athame to her heart. "Bianca…"
She snapped her head up suddenly, how did he know her name? This unexpected contact caused her to break out of her stupor. Grabbing his wrists, his skin feeling unexpectedly warm under her hands, she turned him around and swung a swift kick at his back, sending him flying across the room. He crashed into the table, the force of his weight causing it to crack underneath him as he fell with a loud thud.
Creating an energy ball in her hand, she was about to launch it for the kill when something stopped her. Watching him scramble to his feet, she crushed the energy ball and flipped the athame into the ready position. Facing him, tensed for his offense, she tried to convince herself that it would be more satisfying this way.
"Wyatt!" Piper crooned when her eldest child orbed in. "I'm so glad you could make it!" Standing on her tip-toes, she managed to embrace the Twice-Blessed. Melinda rolled her eyes ay her mother's theatrics, being the youngest and now only child left in the manor; she was forced to deal with Piper's ever escalating loneliness.
Ducking out of his mother's hug, Wyatt sauntered over to his sister. "Hey squirt!" He teased, using her much hated childhood nickname.
"Hey Sasquatch!" she countered with a grin. He mussed her hair, causing her to make a high-pitched keening sound. "I've missed you, Wy," she said, launching herself into a hug. She hated how her brother got himself into a college all the way on the East Coast, even though he could orb home whenever he wanted.
Piper smiled as she watched her children's antics. No matter how they grew, put them together in a room and they became the same little kids that she remembered. She had just turned back to the stove when Wyatt spoke again.
"So did you get in touch with Chrissie?"
"Actually, he's in the attic," Piper replied as she stirred the pasta. "He surprised me earlier."
"Well, why doesn't he come down?"
She didn't respond for a moment. Surely Wyatt would not have noticed the recent change in Chris, since he was so far away most of the time. "I think he was checking the Book-" She stopped midsentence, hearing a very loud thud from above her head. "What was that?"
Wyatt was staring at the ceiling, concentrating to see if he could sense anything. "Chris…he's in trouble." He just started to orb when he felt his mother's hand on his arm, taking her with him.
Holding on to her eldest, Piper appeared in the attic, which had started to look like a war zone. The table where they normally brewed potions was shattered, broken by what only could have been a body, and one of the windows was destroyed, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. But that was not what really grabbed her attention. In the middle of the room, her son sparred with a woman she immediately recognized, though it had to have been at least twenty years ago. And the man fighting was not her Chris Halliwell. It was Chris Perry, the neurotic Whitelighter from the future.
She saw Wyatt conjure an energy ball out of the corner of her eye, aiming for Bianca. Panicking, she seized his arm, pulling it down until he snuffed out the energy ball. "Don't!"
Confused as all hell, Wyatt looked briefly at his mother. "What? She's gonna kill him!"
Piper shook her head. "Go guard Melinda." There was no response but the questioning look in his eyes. "NOW!" He orbed out.
She turned back to the fight, watching with wide eyes as her son battled his fiancé from another timeline. The fight was…amazing. It was not like a battle even, it was more of a dance. The two fighters spun and twirled and ducked around each other, as if they could sense what the other would do before they even did it. Bianca would launch forward in a sudden attack that should have killed Chris, only to have him side-step at the last moment. He would turn her own momentum against her, raising his athame to deliver the death blow, and she would shimmer behind him. Her arm around his neck, he would launch her over his head and send her flying across the room, only to have her spring back up and return to his side, looking to draw blood.
Hearing orbs beside her, she turned to order Wyatt back downstairs only to find herself staring at her sisters. "Hey, Wy called us…" Paige started, but trialed off as she saw the two fighting in the attic. "Oh my God!"
Phoebe was staring as well, her mouth hanging open. "It's her." Piper nodded, not daring to take her eyes from her son. Chris hissed in pain as a surprise move caught him off guard, slicing his side open. Bianca smirked, the thrill of finally having drawn first blood exciting her. Fueled by sudden fury, Chris spun at the exact moment she did. They came to a standstill, arms extended and athames at the other's throat. It was a draw.
Standing there, panting and sweating, Chris stared into Bianca's eyes. Yes, that was her name, he did not know how he knew that, but he did. The wound in his side stung and smarted, but he did not notice. He was lost in her brown eyes. Eyes that he had never seen before yet felt so familiar. The ache in his chest was back, not painful, but pure.
Bianca couldn't breathe. She was so lost in those green eyes, eyes that held no malice even though she had just tried to kill him. For the first time in the past ten years, she felt peaceful. She knew she ought to kill him; her reflexes should be fast enough to finish him before he finished her. But she couldn't. "Chris?"
"Bianca." She flinched at the way her name sounded, coming from those lips. It was a gasp of recognition, of welcoming, of…home. Stunned and afraid, she dropped her arm. After one last look at those green eyes, she shimmered out.
Chris stood rooted to the spot, staring at where she had just been. He tried to fight the feelings surging through him, but lost. Such raw passion, desire to find her again, to know her, feelings he had never before known nearly knocked him to his knees. The athame slipped from his fingers, and he glanced up at his mother and aunts. "Hey."
Piper was the first to step forward, approaching her son. His hair, thick and long, was sweat soaked and clung against his forehead. His shirt, also sweaty, clung to his chest as he labored for air, blood leaking from the wound in his side. But it was his eyes, those green eyes, which were full of life and light.
Wyatt and Melinda came barreling into the attic, having apparently run all the way from the kitchen. Chris glanced at them, a weak half smile coming to his face. He chuckled softly, only to hitch in pain as he grabbed his side. Pulling his hand away, he saw that it was covered in blood. "Huh. Forgot about that."
Shoving his way forward, Wyatt approached his little brother, a look of fury on his face. "I'm gonna get that bitch!" he murmured as he healed the wound.
Phoebe spoke up suddenly, "No that's okay, we can handle this ourselves." She spoke quickly, tipping off all three youngsters that she was hiding something. Melinda look confused, but she knew not to press, while Wyatt was down right furious.
"Come on, she was trying to kill him!" He looked over at Chris. "Who was she anyway?"
Chris shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. "It's okay. I can handle this."
"Really? What if we need the power of three to vanquish her?"
Piper stepped forward, realizing that Wyatt was going to his overprotective mode. Being the oldest and the Twice-Blessed seemed to give him some sort of Protector Complex. And she thought it was bad when Future-Chris was neurotic. "Listen, sweetie. It's okay, you don't have to protect Chris anymore. Why don't you and Mel go make sure dinner doesn't get burned on us?"
Wyatt frowned, but knew when to stop arguing. They were hiding something, all of them. Glancing at his littlest sibling, he made his way downstairs, followed by her, leaving Chris alone with the Charmed Sisters.
"Chris?" He glanced at his mother as she helped him to a chair. "Now Chris, tell us what happened." Phoebe sat next to him, all the while trying to read him without him realizing it. After a quick spell, Paige has restored the table and started the vanquishing potion, just in case.
Taking a deep breath, Chris began the story. From the weird feelings he had been having lately, to the Phoenixes, and the attack. He just left out the strange emotions, though Aunt Pheebs probably already knew that part, he thought with a wry smile.
Rubbing the small of his back to comfort him, the way she discovered he liked when he was a small child, Piper laid her chin on his shoulder. Even though she had known he would be tall, had even seen him that way for a year and a half, it still stunned her sometimes. Her little boy, all grown up. "It's okay, peanut. Why don't you go and finish dinner for me while your aunts and I come up with a plan." She jumped a little when she heard a slight explosion from the pot.
"No," he whispered as he realized what Paige was doing. "No, don't kill her!" The anger in his voice surprised even him, suddenly he wanted to protect the assassin. Seeing that pain and confusion, Piper pulled her boy close to her.
"Chris, calm down. It's just a precaution. Just in case," she whispered, "Now go check on the food, you know Wyatt can't cook." Chris glanced at her suspiciously before orbing right out of her arms. With a sigh she turned back to her sisters, "It's her."
Phoebe was curled up on the couch, reeling from her empathy. "He loves her, already. It's almost as if…" She paused, realizing she was close to bringing up the taboo subject of her nephew that had and could have been.
"How can that be?" Paige asked as she ladled the potion into a couple of vials. "Do you think he really remembers her?"
"No…no not really." The sisters looked at Piper, wanting more of an explanation. "Ever since he was young, it was almost as if he did remember. But it's just instincts, gut feelings, like…déjà vu."
"Maybe they're…soul-mates or something like that," Phoebe mused. "They're just meant to be no matter what timeline it is. Do you think we should tell him?"
Piper scoffed, "Yeah, let's tell him that in an alternate timeline Wyatt was the Source of All Evil who killed his fiancé, who just tried to kill him in this timeline."
"Well at least we know where he got his attitude from!" Phoebe jabbed. "So what do we do?"
Rocking in her seat, Piper looked at her sisters. "I think we're just going to have to let him handle this on his own. There's nothing we can do." She stood up, grabbing the potion bottles from Paige. "Come on, they're going to be wondering where we are. Feel like pasta?"
Bianca collapsed onto her mother's couch. She had failed…for the first time since she had started taking assignments, she had failed to kill her prey. And even worse yet, she had no desire to. There was something about this witch, this Christopher Halliwell….
She looked up when Lynn entered the room. She had stopped calling her mother a long time ago, just after she had started taking her on the kills. Lynn was frowning down at her, but she didn't care. She absently traced the athame in her hand, a strange feeling of guilt washing through her when her hand touched the blood.
"So is he dead?"
"No," Bianca spat. "He was stronger than I anticipated." She twirled the knife in her hands. "So who is the client, anyway?"
"I am." Lynn watched her daughter's reaction, seeing the surprise and the anger in her eyes. "Just trust me, dear; you are destined to kill him." She remembered that time, all those years ago. Her daughter, come from the future, all over this Chris boy. She had meant to kill him then, and so she should kill him now. Hell, Lynn would have done it herself if she was only younger. She was not as strong as she used to be.
Bianca's mouth was drawn in a tight line as she stared at her mother. "What has he done to warrant his death?"
"Why do you care?" Lynn countered, "A kill is a kill." She sat by her daughter, taking her hands in her own. "Bianca, you are a Phoenix. You were born into to this power, this legacy. Do not fight who you truly are."
"Oh, and I am a murderer? Just like you. That's our power, our legacy. We're nothing but mercenaries!" She looked down, fighting the emotions that had been warring within her for years. Never before had she let them out, but she was so shook up by her encounter with her latest bounty that it just slipped. "Mom," she whispered, "why did you lie to me?"
"What?" Lynn gasped.
"When I asked you what it was like to kill, why did you lie? Why did you tell me that you feel nothing?" Bianca twirled the athame in her hand, starting to wish she had not asked the question in the first place.
"Bianca…I…" she sputtered, looking for the words she did not have. She regretted not listening when she had the chance, all those years ago. "I'm sorry, but we can't deny what we are. What you were born to be." Bianca gave her such a cold look that it broke Lynn's heart, before finally shimmering out.
Piper stalked up to her room, feeling more tired than she ever felt. Leo was waiting for her, having just gotten home from Magic School. Seeing the look on his wife's face, he took her into his arms. "Hey, honey, what's wrong."
Turning to that face she knew better than her own, she was able to read every line, every worry. "Chris was attacked today."
Eyes widening in shock, he sank down on the bed. For what hand to be the hundredth time since he was made mortal, he felt useless. Sure he was a fine professor at Magic School, but when it came to protecting his children from the dangers out there, there was nothing that he could do. "Who was it?"
Piper closed her eyes as she whispered the name. "Bianca."
"Bianca? Not the same Bianca from…" Piper nodded, burying her face in Leo's shoulder. "Piper, honey, isn't this a good thing? We all hoped this would happen someday. He hoped it would happen someday."
Nodding into his shoulder, Piper sniffled. "I know. It's just that I saw him today. When he was fighting her, it wasn't our Chris. It was him." Though he was gone, dead nearly twenty years, she mourned him. Though she had her Chris, it wasn't the same. He wasn't the same.
Holding his wife to him, Leo whispered words of comfort. "Don't worry, he'll work this out. He always does."
Orbing home that night was difficult. Though he only carried two tiny vials of vanquishing potion with him, it felt as if the weigh of the world was on his on his shoulders, at least the weight of his world. He opened a window, circling up in the frame and staring out, letting the cool air caress his face. It wasn't as good as the Golden Gate Bridge, but it would do.
He knew she was an assassin witch. He knew that her coven was ruthless and evil. He knew he didn't know her…but he did. He knew her but he didn't know her. "Ugh," he moaned, trying to ease the sudden pain in his head. Nothing was making sense anymore. All he knew was that he had to find her. Biting his lip, he realized what he had to do. Taking one last deep breath of fresh air, he summoned his athame to this right hand and a vial of potion into his left. Chris orbed from the window to the living room and began to chant.
"Hear these words, hear the rhyme.
Heed the hope within my mind.
Bring me who I wish to find,
To this place, at this time."
Eyes closed, he waited until he heard the all too familiar sound of orbs. Opening his eyes, he found a very confused and distressed looking Bianca standing in his living room. It worked. "Bianca."
"Christopher." She glanced around, reflexively summoning the athame into her hand. With a smirk, Chris threw his across his the room, where it embedded itself in the wall. "What are you doing?"
"Athame." Her weapon orbed to his open hand, "Huh, wonder why I didn't think of that earlier."
Summoning an energy ball, she stood at the ready. "What do you want with me?"
Still smirking, Chris raised the hand that held the potion. "Aha." With no choice, Bianca let the energy ball fizzle out, leaving her rather defenseless. "I just want to talk."
"Fine," she snapped. "How did you get me here?" She was just sitting in her apartment, thinking, scheming, and then she felt light. Dizzy. Like she was falling backwards and upwards until she was here, finally back on solid ground.
"That's easy. I summoned you." He watched her reaction, the way she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, as if she didn't want to be caught staring.
"How did you know my name?"
He knew that one was coming. "I don't know."
"You don't know?" She sneered, forcing as much resentment as possible into her voice. Oh no, she was not about to let her guard down again. "What was it then, a lucky guess?"
"Listen, why don't you just take a seat," he gestured with his empty hand towards the couch. Very slowly, Bianca lowered herself onto the couch, shoulders tense in anticipation of an attack or deception. Very deliberately, so that she would see, he placed the potion down on the coffee table, sitting on the other end of the couch. "I don't know how I know your name."
"Uh-huh," she said, her tone rather disbelieving.
"You don't believe me." He sighed, looking away from her. "It just came to me, while we were fighting…when you were close to me."
Bianca stared in his eyes, searching for one sign of deception. She found nothing. "Fine, how did you know of my…that I was a Phoenix?"
"Your birthmark. I've seen it in the Book of Shadows before." Turning his gaze back to her, he turned the tables. "You're not evil." It wasn't a question.
"That's what you think. In case you've forgotten, I just tried to kill you." She tried to keep her tone condescending, but failed. Instead she sounded sad.
"You tried, but you didn't."
She laughed, a low, bitter laugh. He was trying to find good in her, the good that was long ago killed. Goodness left her when she lost her innocent, childhood illusions of happiness and love. "It's the intent that counts."
"You had opportunities," Chris countered, his voice husky with suppressed emotion. "When I was down, I saw the energy ball. You could have had me then. But you didn't. At the end, you could have slit my throat. I probably would have died. You would have reformed. Now, why didn't you kill me then?"
Bianca looked away. She hardly knew this man. All he was was another bounty, another job. Another kill in her book, another piece of her humanity ripped away from her soul by the blood on her hands. "I…" her voice was soft and choked, as if she was afraid to say it, "I just don't want to kill anymore." Looking away, she fought back tears. She hadn't cried in ages and was not about to start now. She was a Phoenix goddamit! She was supposed to be tough.
His heart was slowly being torn apart as he watched her suffer. Reaching out, he grabbed her around the shoulders, gently easing her into his embrace. At first she resisted, but when gently ran his fingers along her arm, she felt a new kind of warmth spread through her body. "Who are you, Chris Halliwell?"
He smiled a little. "I'm a friend, someone you can trust." The pain in his chest was starting to ease up. "Bianca," his whispered, looking down in her eyes, "You can talk to me."
Again her guard was down. She looked up in his eyes, seeing something that she had never seen before. A spark of emotion, a hint of promise. Whatever it was, whatever it took, she decided that she wanted to see it again.
So she spoke. She talked to him of things she had never mentioned aloud in her entire life. From the first time she asked Lynn what it was like to kill. She told him about her first assignment, she was only fourteen and had felt so dirty. Like a tool used for a nasty little task before being discarded. That night she spent hours in the shower, just trying to wash the scummy feeling away. How she vowed never to kill again, only to give in when her Mother approached her with another bounty, for the good of the Coven.
He listened as she told him about the numbness, the way she had to force herself to not to care about her victims, lest she go insane. Every bounty became just a name, a statistic. How she finally just took the orders blindly, hoping that whoever she killed deserved it. Finally she told him about how her mother sent her after him, telling her that she could kill this Charmed Son, no one would ever doubt her abilities. She told him that when she looked deep into his green eyes, she could not bare to bring him pain.
Five Years Later
It was a scandal, really. The whole magical community was buzzing with gossip. From the nymphs to the dwarves, leprechauns to the gypsies. "Did you hear?" they would ask each other. "Chris Halliwell, son of Piper and Leo, he's planning to marry a Phoenix Assassin!"
Chris laughed aloud when she hesitated, insisting that it just wasn't done. Never before was it even a possibility, a part Whitelighter—part Angel-- and a nearly demonic witch? He just kissed her and told her that he didn't care what others thought.
Piper and the rest of the Charmed Ones welcomed her with open arms. Even Wyatt, who was at first a little reluctant. Piper kept telling her that she was absolutely gorgeous, and that she really was rather sweet, when she wasn't pissed.
On the day of the wedding, on a beautiful July day, Piper helped her get ready. She wore a beautiful white dress, her hair done up in ringlets that framed her face. "You look amazing," Piper told her, "Chris will be floored."
The wedding was simple, just family and close friends. After the vows were spoken and the groom kissed the bride, he swung her up in his arms and carried her back into the manor for the short reception. Hanging by the punch bowl, Wyatt waited for his mother to come by. When she finally did, he grabbed by the arm. "You knew, didn't you? That day when she attacked and you stopped me, you knew."
Piper smiled slyly, "So what if I did?" She sauntered off, over to join her son and the happy bride.
Wyatt shook his head slowly. Watching his younger brother, he was really glad he listened to his mother that day. Nothing could compare to seeing Chris be this happy. Looking at his mother and aunts, all of whom had a slightly sly look about them, he could not help but chuckle. He would never understand his family.