That time of year thou mayst in me
behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
Upon those boughs which
shake against the cold
Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang
In me thou seest the twlight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west
Which by and by black night doth take away
Death's second self, that seals
up all in rest
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes
of his youth doth lie
As the deathbed whereon it must expire
Consumed
with that which it was nourished by
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy
love more strong
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
William Shakespeare; Sonnet 73
They had promised each other. No matter what, they would meet again every year. In the middle sanctuary that lay between their worlds. The place and time where they could forget, at least for a day, all the barriers that lay between them, all the grievances of the past that they could never solve or repair, all the intentions to forget, and just relish the rare opportunity to immerse themselves in each other.
She- the chosen one, a descendant of generations of chosen warriors, the longest survivor of her line -was the first to arrive, almost one year after his telephone call to her house and request for them to meet, memories of their reunion the last time washing over her, purifying her once more, with part- for it could never be all, too much had affected them for that -of the innocence and hope that she had when they first met, making her feel whole again.
Here she was at peace, here she was happy. At this place she could forget every trial that made her world harder to bare with each passing day. At this place she had no roles- for there were many, sometimes too many in her life -to play, she could be herself, something that she had not been for a long, long time.
His arrival as usual, was by stealth, an hour later, to which her reaction was stunned disbelief followed by a happiness that she had rarely known before. He- the champion, first in his line, unique, a soul forever tormented by the demon within him, but with the courage to overcome that evil and fight for redemption -came to halt before her, knelt down on one knee and proposed.
Her answer was instant and in no way negative. He displayed his rare and beautiful smile as he slid the ring on to her finger, before wrapping his arms around her in blissful joy. A second later they kissed, shutting out the world, two warriors for the Powers That Be reunited at last. For eternity.
A little while later- after they had relished the kiss, the bliss, the occasion, the chance to imagine and plan their now much happier future -they were in his car heading out to the highway with no desire to ever go back again. Neither of them saw the point anymore, nor did they have the will or the want to do so either. Their time apart had been hard on both of them, harder still because of their separation, something that they had never been able to solve until now.
Both believed that his shanshu was a sign that their time in the good fight as chosen warriors was over and their chance for a normal life was now. Both also knew that the only way they would get a normal life was if they moved far far away.
Neither wanted their friends to have an opportunity to persuade them otherwise, with their own feelings and inter- relations, along with past grievances between others in both of the worlds, which would interfere in their ability to make an impartial decision on whether or not they could live with this new situation, thus they would leave no word of their future plans.
From this moment on they had a new life, a life that was their own, to be controlled by no one else but themselves. No demons, no prophecies, no enemies, no gods, no supernatural or natural evil, nothing even remotely related to their worlds would bother them again. They were determined to make sure on that.
He- the champion, first in his line, unique, a soul forever tormented by the demon within him, but with the courage to overcome that evil and fight for redemption -glanced up and was awed by the sight. He lifted up at hand, beckoning her- the chosen one, a descendant of generations of chosen warriors, the longest survivor of her line -to join him, his eyes never leaving her form as she settled herself nervously beside him. The look was as soft as a caress, his fingers soon adding to the sensation as they drew circles on her arm.
When he spoke it was a whisper, belying the anger he felt; "how could he," he began, speaking of his demon's grandchilde, "how dare he touch you... he had no right." He ran a single finger down the length of her arm, drifting inward, "you are not of darkness, you are of light. You are holy, a goddess."
He bent, laying small kisses upon her silken skin, worshipping her. He guided her on to the sheets, nuzzling, kissing, all the while murmuring endearments. Awakening and arousing her. She melted in reply, letting his love wash over her, wiping away the others that had dared to touch her after he all those years ago.
Wrapping his arms around her form as she rested upon his chest, he whispered softly to her, " 'I love thee... mark! I love thee!... in thy sight I stand transfigured, glorified aright. If ever any beauty I did see, which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.'" He had no words but of poetry left to speak, and yet even they seemed inadequate, so precious was this occasion.
She stayed silent, content just to be in his arms. Here she felt peace and right now, she was too exhausted to do aught else but revel in the sensation that had been rare recently. Unlike the last 'person', he had always made her feel beautiful, precious.
She had been so detached lately, only feeling something when..... rapidly she shook the thought away, determined to think of the past no longer. From now on she would only concern herself with the present and the person she was with. Looking up, she smiled at him, causing him to return the gesture.
Slowly, conversation began. He talked of his trials this past year, his troubles with the consequences of his actions with Darla, which he had only taken in the first place because he had been driven into it by the deepest despair. Of the son he had fathered but who refused to claim him as such a relation, having been kidnapped by an old enemy and taught to hate him.
Of his deluded and confused feelings about Cordelia, to which, he had found, loneliness was the cause. He finished with his time spent at the bottom of the sea, how much the experience had taught him new values, which had always existed but never recognised until now.
Of the emotions and ruminations it had caused and the conclusions he had drawn. Of the sudden light that had, without warning, eclipsed the box, lifted him out and away from it. depositing him back at the hotel in his newly shanshued state, leaving him in clear decision about what he would do next.
She talked of her trials then. How she had come back from the dead feeling that the world she had once lived in to be hell. How everyone had misunderstood her reactions, expecting she would just be her normal self. How she had turned to him, his demon's undead son, because he seemed to be the only one able to see her pain and understand its origin.
How Dawn had constantly rocked the boat, how Willow had grown more and more deadly in her powers, until quitting them when the rest had found out, only to use them again when Tara died, killing first Dawn, then Warren and almost marshalling an apocalypse before Xander had brought her back from the brink.
How Xander and Anya had broken up, the latter becoming a vengeance demon, the former scared that he might turn into his parents if he married her. How she had been forced to witness Giles departure, thinking it was best for them. Why she had to get a job and her eventual surrender to Spike, which had been, like his with Darla, because of the deepest despair.
How everyone expected her to cope when they learnt that she had been in heaven. How the villains had tricked her into believing she was insane and had been since she was first called. How Riley had come back just to show off how good his life was compared to hers. She finished with the phone call he had given her, asking her to meet him at their place, exactly one year to the day they had first met.
When they came to silence, a long look was exchanged before they surrendered to temptation and kissed. He rolled her underneath him, worshipping her smooth skin, thanking the Powers That Be for granting them this blessing. He kissed her neck, the scar he had left there so many years ago, her breasts, her flat stomach, smooth thighs, his every touch made so tender, that she could not help but respond, forgetting the world in the presence of his love.
She met his touches, his kisses, which the same as equally as powerful, tracing the lines of his tattoo as he hovered over her. They met many times, pushing the act far above the animal origins, higher than the holy. Each joining felt just as powerful as the first, and all the more sacred. All worked a magic upon them, laying aside the scars, emotional and physical, all the troubles that they had endured, bringing them to the glory of the present. Slowly he wiped away all the horrors she had suffered, leaving her pure, clean, whole and content.
They lay together for many hours and days, not caring about anything but each other. Relishing in the knowledge that their missions apart were over, and the prospect of their new destiny. Together.
"The book's flicking again," Phoebe remarked. Her sisters joined her at the pedestal, standing quietly, waiting for the leaves of the Book of Shadows to rest.
Prue read aloud the first new entry. "In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires and the forces of evil. She is the Slayer."
"Why on earth is this in?" Phoebe queried when her sister had finished reading aloud the first passage out of three that the book had laid open before them.
As if on cue, a chime sounded, followed by the little light stars that signalled Leo's arrival. After greeting his wife, he explained his early return. "The Elders are concerned. Vampires have sprung up in the neighbourhood."
"Well that explains why we've given this," Piper commented, pointing out the passage to her husband. "Have you heard of the Slayer?"
"Yes. She currently resides in Sunnydale, though by the looks of this, that's about to change."
"This one refers to a Chosen One as well," Piper pointed to the second new entry. "In this time there exists a warrior, joined forever to the Chosen One. Whose mind was once tortured with a demon. But who now has peace shanshued."
"What does shanshued mean?" Phoebe asked the whitelighter.
"Its from an ancient demon language, it means.... well, actually it has two meanings. "To die and to live."
"So this person is human?"
"Sort of. Actually he's more of a Chosen Warrior, a male Slayer if you will. His coming has been foretold for a long time, as well as the Slayer that is his soulmate. Together they are meant to be stronger than any force for the good that has come before them."
"Speaking of new powers," Prue announced to get their attention, "this final one is very interesting. The Eyes that can Move and the form which Mirages. The Hands that can Freeze or Explode. The Legs that can Fly and the Mind which foresees. And the Circle that binds them all. Care to explain any of that, Leo?"
"What?" Leo looked at the passage. "I'm afraid I don't follow you, Prue?"
"This clearly mentions us. Who is the circle that binds us all?"
"Does this mean there is another charmed one?" Phoebe questioned.
Leo held out his hands in surrender. "Look, I swear I don't know what this is about. And if they do," he pointed upwards, "they haven't told me. As far as I know, there were only supposed to be three charmed ones."
"Hang on," Phoebe exclaimed. "We can't have a another sister, as Mom thought it was impossible to have me."
"It can only be another sister," Leo reminded them.
Prue started to flick through the Book of Shadows once more. Stopping at the incantation to summon the dead she wondered aloud. "Do you think Grams would know?"
"Its a possibility," Piper admitted, "but we can't ask her or Mom on the basis of this entry." She glanced at her husband. "Leo, could 'they' really not know about this?"
"The only way," Leo replied thoughtfully, "is if she was given up at birth, and isn't aware of her powers."
"What power would she have?" Phoebe questioned. "The reference is vague to say the least."
"It would depend on her heritage."
"What would depend on heritage?" A voice asked.
"Cole!" Phoebe rushed to greet him.
Piper looked at Leo once again, a realisation suddenly occurring to her. "You don't think that......" she could not bare to finish the sentence.
Leo nodded grimly. "It would make sense."
"What would?" Cole asked.
"That the fourth charmed one is a half witch half whitelighter."
"Fourth charmed one? There's only supposed to be three of you."
"Not anymore," Prue replied, pointing out the entry she had been searching for while all this was going on. Below the usual mantra of 'the power of three will set us free' there was now a new entry, reading; 'by the power of four evil you are no more.'
Outside the removal van had been emptied of its last boxes and had been driven away. The new owners of 1328 Prescott Street stood in the front lawn, gazing at the house.
"Here it is," the man said to the woman that was leaning against him in his arms, "the start of our new lives."
"And here's hoping no one finds out about it," the woman added.
In reply he kissed her blond hair. "Come on, let's look inside."
They stepped into the hall, she going first, gasping at the decorations. "This is wonderful," she cried. "How did you manage to afford it?"
"I had some funds from.... you know when. Seemed like the right time to spend them. After all, we have to enjoy this while we can."
"I really hope no one cares to look," the woman said as they walked into the front room. "I've done so much to mess up their lives that they'll probably be glad I've gone."
"You've saved their lives. Many times. Not messed them up. They walked into their gifts with their eyes open."
"I wish I could believe that. How do you?"
"Three months in a box can do a lot to change your philosophy on life." He stepped forward and put his arms around her again. "But I wouldn't wish that on anybody."
"One thing is for sure that the world won't let us ignore it forever."
"Nor can we hide away, never going out into it. I think though that we should try to have as much of a normal life as possible."
"So do I, although what count as normal these days is anybody's guess."
The church was quiet, almost deserted when the bright swirls of light appeared to form Piper and Leo. They stood still for a moment, taking in the atmosphere, trying imagine what would have happened years ago when another whitelighter and witch had dropped into the building, carrying a babe in their arms. Until they saw the nun near the altar, staring in shock.
"Angels!"
They walked quickly towards her. "Not exactly," Leo replied.
"But you appeared just like them... Have you come for her?"
"Who?" Piper asked.
The nun lead them into a little office, away from public view. "I was just twenty-three when they came, in a swirl of bright white lights. They had a babe in their arms. They handed her to me, saying she was in great danger, and that they had no other choice but to give her up." Sister Agnes glanced up at the couple before her. "Who are you?"
Piper turned to her husband, who nodded, before replying. "I'm her sister."
"Her sister? But how..."
"We've only just learnt of her existence," Leo explained. "Back then, it was unheard of, now only just allowed. We need to find her."
"No we don't."
Leo looked at his wife, surprised. "Piper?"
"We can't. As long as no one else knows about her, she's not in danger. We cannot simply announce that we are her family after all this time and expect her to adjust. It would be easier if she came to us." Piper turned back to the nun, who, while they were talking, had fetched a small chest from a shelf and was now opening it.
"They wrapped her in this," she began, drawing out a blanket, "the only request they had was that she be given a name that began with a P."
Piper stopped the Sister from giving it to her. "We were wrapped in ones like this," she remembered, gazing at it. She looked up at Sister Agnes. "Keep it please. When she comes to see you, just tell her to come to 1329 Prescott Street."
In the end it took them only three months. Three months of pure, unadulterated bliss, during which they somehow managed to organise their new lives. Nothing had prepared them for the smoothness of the transition.
The masks appeared with their appropriate pasts and became their new apparel with unexpected ease. If at any point the idea that it might be fate or the Powers That Be laying out the new path for them crossed their minds, it was brushed aside. They had had enough of prophecies, curses, myths, legends and spells. It was time to try and have a normal life. Together.
It was a week after the Charmed Ones had discovered that they had a half sister, and life had retreated into normality. At the present they stood outside in midst of separation for work; Piper to P4- a name change had felt appropriate after discovering they had another sister -and Prue to a photography job.
Aside from them at their neighbours, a couple were also saying farewell before work. The man had his arms around the woman, and was kissing her forehead.
"You could stay here all day. Be my muse."
She blushed. "As much as that's a tempting offer, you know we can't, Angel. Our location would instantly get about."
"I know." He sighed. "Its just.... the past weeks have been wonderful. I don't want them to end."
"They won't. We have the rest of our lives now."
Next door, the Halliwells turned and happened to see the romantic farewell their new neighbours were participating in. The eldest sister sighed. "No handsome single man then this time."
"I think its sweet." Piper smiled at her husband, who kissed her in reply. Prue turned to her younger sister in hope of support, but found her to be kissing her own husband instead. "I hate being the fifth Halliwheel."
The couples outside of both houses parted and the girls got in the cars, driving away, waving goodbye to their spouses.
Prudence Halliwell just managed to prevent herself from losing control of all her faculties as she caught sight of the man she had to photograph. Even at this distance- from the door where she was standing to the centre of the room where he sat surrounded by all the equipment needed for the interview -he was attractive, the elite of tall, dark and handsome, except for the fact that his hair was blond, a surprising contrast to his chocolate eyes.
Added to this was a certain presence that he carried about himself, a charisma that drew people towards him. In short he seemed destined to be famous. At the same time he seemed unaffected by the sudden onslaught of attention that had accumulated in the past three months since the first exhibition of his art at the Jean-Paul Getty museum. His body language and manner in no way displayed arrogance or ego.
The producer beckoned her forward, making the introductions, even though it was unnecessary for Prue as, like the rest of the female population, she had salivated over him ever since his rise to fame.
"Liam O'Connor, Prue Halliwell," said producer uttered brusquely before returning to work. The two shook hands companionably.
"I apologise in advance if these don't turn out," Liam began. "Cameras unnerve me."
"Just relax. Think about something else, you won't even notice I'm here," Prue assured him, though far from relaxed herself.
"All right," the producer announced. "I think we're set."
Liam returned to his seat, a barstool style high pedestal for his first in-depth interview and Prue began to establish a distance and position for her photographs. She took them quickly, instinctively finding the right shots, choosing unconscious poses to make the images more natural.
She carried the negatives home to the manor later that afternoon, to find the rest of her live-in family at leisure in the conservatory. So far, it had been a quiet week, free of supernatural trials and the Charmed Ones along with their significant others were making the best of it. "Guess who I got to photograph today," Prue began, displaying the pictures for all to see on the low glass table.
"Ooh, Liam O'Connor," Phoebe nearly swooned. "Is he still single?"
"Nope, married High school sweetheart two months ago," Prue replied.
"Pity," Phoebe mused, followed by her older sisters, to which the husbands expressed a cough to announce their presence.
"We're allowed to look," Phoebe remarked in reply.
"Funny that we aren't," Cole commented jokingly in return, receiving a soft hit on his shoulder in punishment.
"What did you say his name was?" Leo asked as he surveyed the pictures.
"Liam O'Connor, why?"
"He reminds me of someone I used to know."
Liam washed the dye out, restoring his hair to its natural dark tones. Towel-drying what he could of the strands, he wandered into the living room of his home. His features settled into the a smile as he espied his wife asleep, curled upon on of the sofas. Settling down on the floor space below her, he reflected upon all that had happened since their reunion.
The one thing that had surprised him most of all, was the lack of complications. Three months had passed since his their reunion, their decision to begin a new life and their resettlement in San Francisco. His 'normal' career as an artist began to flourish and her degree was finally gained, as well as their quiet but romantic wedding.
They had expected questions, queries on their depol alterations, instant tracing of their whereabouts by their friends, followed by the inevitable arguments at what they had done and wonder at why. Instead; nothing. Absolutely nothing. And they were both puzzled by it. San Francisco was not the other side of the world from the Hellmouth or Los Angeles. Why had none of them come looking for the Vampire Slayer and her champion?
His beloved stirred and Liam glanced upwards, his trail of thoughts forgotten. After all, he concluded, why should he worry about something that if it was to occur, would have happened already?
"Hey," Arianna greeted him.
"Hey," he returned, marvelling at how well she suited the dark-hair dye that served as her disguise. Unlike him, she had elected to keep it, after being assured that it made no difference to the way that he felt about her, even though at times he missed the sunlight quality that her blond strands had previously possessed, but as he had the sunlight for the first time in over two hundred years, he no longer needed her to provide the superficial illumination, just the deep light that she had always seemed to radiate, no matter her appearance.
Arianna fingered his clean hair, smiling at the reversion which he could now live with as no one had come looking for them, even though his name was the same one as before he was ever turned, an article which would only require the checking of birth records to find. Not that blond hair had not suited him, after all his entire appearance was handsome, but she had fallen in love with the dark and blond tended to remind her of previous failures in her past that she would rather not have brought into frequent recollection.
"What do you want to do tonight?" He asked her softly.
"I thought we might go to that club P4."
Even though they had lived in San Francisco for three months, Arianna and Liam had only settled into their house a week ago. Thus much time had been spent in sorting out the house and establishing their respective careers.
For, after vowing never to enter such a profession even though it was a perfect outlet and cover for her unusual skills, Arianna had joined the San Francisco PD. Only two months into the job, she had already gained a reputation for quick work and had just recently been granted a new partner that she was to meet in an hour when her shift started.
That hour soon passed and they parted once more, as her new partner drew up outside the house in his car. Recognising with surprise the house next door, he greeted the owners that were standing outside.
"Hey Darryl," Phoebe began, "anything wrong?"
"No, I've just come to pick up my new partner."
"Our new neighbour?"
"The same."
Arianna and Liam came out of the house, the former going down to shake hands. "Detective Morris? Arianna O'Connor."
He shook her hand, surprised at her slight appearance. "Darryl. Pleased to meet you. Ready to go?"
"In a minute." She turned to Liam. "I'll see you this evening."
"Count on it." He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her lips, then her forehead. She leaned against his chest in contentment.
Phoebe stood staring at the couple, as her power suddenly came into the fore. She saw them in the past, torn apart by their natures, fighting demons and va....... The premonition faded away. She stood still, watching as the woman went off with Darryl and the man returned to the house.
"Quick, inside the manor," she uttered to her family.
"What did you see?" Cole asked as soon as they were inside the hall.
Phoebe walked over into the living room and sank down into a sofa. "I saw our neighbours, in the past, fighting demons and vampires."
"Are you certain?" Prue asked.
"Definitely. The woman may have had dark hair, but its them. I'm positive."
"Do you think they could be the ones the Book of Shadows mentioned?" Cole questioned.
Blue lights appeared and Leo came into form. He had been called just after Phoebe had explained her vision. "Its them," he confirmed. "And I know where I recognised Liam O'Connor from, apart from yesterday morning."
"Where from?" Piper asked her husband.
"During the war. He fought a few battlefields with me. He called himself Angel then."
"Strange name considering," Phoebe remarked, while Cole gasped in recognition. "You've heard of him?" She asked.
"Yes. Angel, otherwise known as Angelus or the Scourge of Europe. He's over two hundred years old. He was sired by a descendant of the Master, who was the strongest vampire in existence."
"Well's he not one now," Leo began, relaying the information the Elders had told him. "Apparently he was cursed with a soul over a hundred years ago. Nearly went mad from the experience. He was sent to help Arianna, or rather Buffy, the slayer in Sunnydale."
"What happened?" Piper inquired.
"They fell in love, but because of what he was it didn't work out. He left for Los Angeles and worked there until he gained his Shanshu."
"So he's human now?"
"No, he still possesses the positive attributes of a vampire; strength and fast healing. But in all other respects he is normal."
"Do you think we should tell them that we know?" Prue questioned.
"I don't see how we can avoid it," Cole answered. "In our line of work we're bound to come across them, whether or not she still performs her slayer duties."
"There they are." Prue suddenly discerned the two figures, dancing together. "They're coming over."
"Act normal, we need to get them alone," Piper reminded as she smiled in greeting to the couple. "Hi. What can I get you?"
"Hi," Arianna returned before pausing in order to decide what she wanted. Then she recognised them. "Aren't you our neighbours?"
"That's right, the Halliwells," Prue replied, noticing that the man she had photographed this morning had changed his hair. "I'm Prue. I photographed your husband during his interview."
"Yes, thanks for making me feel at ease," Liam replied, his own gaze fixing on a familiar face. Abruptly he excused both of them, leading his love back on to the dancefloor.
"An... Liam, what is it?" Arianna asked, almost forgetting to use his alias in the public place.
He shrugged, not wanting to worry her. "Its probably nothing."
She gazed up at him. "You don't use that face when its nothing."
"Two things," he admitted, looking at the group by the bar once more. "Firstly, the guy reminds me of someone I used to know when I served in the war," since their reunion he had told her every detail of his past, both cursed and uncursed. "Secondly, I think they're the Charmed Ones."
"The Charmed Ones?"
"Didn't Giles tell you about them?"
"Giles didn't tell me a lot of things." Most of all why he felt the need to leave.
"They are the three most powerful witches in existence, prophesied and descended from hundreds of magic users."
"Do you think that they could know who we are?"
"Its possible."
"What about the guy you recognised?"
"It could be just coincidence that he looks like him, or that he's a whitelighter."
"A what?"
"A guide for witches with the power to heal and immortality."
"Oh." She paused as a thought occurred to her. "Why did Willow never have one?"
"Her craft always had a dark slant."
"She brought you back," she pointed out.
Liam stopped dancing. "By cursing me," he reminded her.
She sighed sadly, conceding the point. He wrapped her in his arms. "I love you." They resumed their swaying to the music. She leant against his chest. "Can we trust them?"
"Only one way to find out."
Later, when the music had ceased, the dancefloor had emptied, as the dawn of the next day approached, two retired warriors talked with the trio of witches and their husbands. They found that they could trust them, that their arrival here was preordained, and that their warrior days were by no means over.
They realised that they should have known that from the moment he had discovered he still had his vampiric strength, even after his shanshu. Then, awkwardness and distrust over, they talked like friends of old, relating past lives and battles. Who and what they had sacrificed to survive or for the safety of the world.
In the darkness before the dawn, they departed for home, promising whenever a hand was needed, they would come to each other's aid.
The End.
© Danielle Harwood-Atkinson 2021. All rights reserved.
