Cowboys and Clichés

Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed.

A demon escapes to the past to prevent Wyatt and Chris from being born, the boys follow him.

"Wyatt look out!" yelled Chris, as he pushed his brother out of the way of a fireball. The two of them had been watching a movie in the living room, when a demon shimmered in, disrupting their activity. Now they were launched into full battle mode, intent on taking this guy out.

"Thanks," replied Wyatt, after he landed on the floor, "but is it just me, or does he not seem that interested in us?"

Wyatt had a point, since materializing in the house; the demon had been avoiding their attacks, only firing off a fireball or two to distract them, his attentions seemingly focused elsewhere.

"Maybe he knows he doesn't stand a chance?" Chris suggested.

As the demon ran up the stairs to the next level, the boys cried out in unison, "The book!"

Demons attempted to steal the book at least twice a month, very rarely succeeding. But there was always a chance. Together they orbed to the attic, in order to protect the ancient tome. However, after arriving, they found the room deserted, and the Book of Shadows in the same position as it always was.

"Where is he?" Asked Chris.

"Maybe he's slow?" Wyatt responded. "Or maybe he's not after the book, but something on the mid-level."

Chris thought about this. "But there is nothing down there, just bedrooms."

After hearing a crash from below them, the boys ran off down the stairs in search of the intruder. They followed the noise into their parents' bedroom. The normally pristine room looked like a tornado hit it. Drawers had been emptied, clothes strewn about the floor, the bed overturned. Their demon was currently hunched over what appeared to be Leo's old army trunk, muttering some incantation.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Asked Wyatt.

The demon smirked at them, "Sorry boys, if I can't kill you now, I'll have to go back and wipe you out from before."

Chris looked at him curiously. "Before? Before what?"

The demon smirked again, and finished saying the spell. At once a strange light filled the room. After the light subsided a little, the boys saw a circular portal appear in the middle in the room. After leering at them, the demon jumped through the gateway.

"What's that?" Asked Wyatt.

"A portal I think. We better follow him; find out what he's up to." Chris responded.

Wyatt agreed with him, and the two of them jumped through the portal, a split-second before it closed, venturing after the demon to wherever he had gone.

The boys landed in the dirt. After pulling themselves up, they took a good look around. The demon, who was nowhere in sight, had led them into the middle of a desert. Endless orange vistas surrounded them, with a few large rock formations here and there, and mountains in the distance. Behind them was a small town, comprised of a dozen or so wooden buildings, complete with an old-timey saloon and horses in the street.

"Chris...?" Wyatt asked slowly, as he took in the sight that greeted them.

"I know Wyatt." Chris replied, "But maybe it's just a re-enactment, a tourist attraction." He added hopefully.

"I don't see any tourists." Wyatt said nervously, "Nor do I see the demon, or a way home."

"We'll worry about that later. We better check the town out; see where we are, or rather, when we are."

While walking through the town it was starting to become apparent that this was not some tourist attraction, and Chris suspected that they had travelled into the past. His suspicions were confirmed when they found a newspaper outside the general store.

"May 18th 1854." Wyatt read. "Well I always wanted to see what the old west looked like." He added smiling.

"Stop smiling Wyatt, this is bad, this is very very bad. You know the rules about time travel; we might end up messing with the future if we aren't careful."

Wyatt contemplated this, "I think we should be more concerned with our demon, and what he's planning to do here."

"You're right," Chris agreed, "But for now we should get some different outfits. We're beginning to attract attention." He gestured down towards their 21st Century attire, which was drawing strange looks from some of the locals.

Finding a quiet spot behind the store, out of sight from the mortals, the boys conjured up more era appropriate clothing. Chris had opted for a low key outfit, something designed to allow him to blend in with the natives. Wyatt on the other hand, ever the master of overstatement, had gone in the opposite direction. Currently decked out in an oversized Stetson, spurs on his boots and a poncho, he looked like he just stepped off the set of a John Wayne movie. Chris couldn't see, but he wouldn't be surprised if Wyatt had a pistol on his belt. He'd even bothered chewing a piece of straw. Chris had to credit his attention to detail.

"Where do you suppose we are?" Asked Chris, as the duo emerged back on to the main street.

"I'd have to guess somewhere in the South." Wyatt replied, looking around.

Chris eyed him sarcastically, "Very astute Sherlock, what was your first clue?"

Wyatt glared at him.

"I meant, why we are we here? What significance does this place have that the demon had to come here?"

Wyatt considered this, and tried to remember what the demon had said earlier. "Alright think back to what the demon said in the manor, he said if couldn't kill us now; he'd have to go back to before in order to wipe us out. Maybe he's travelled back in time in order to kill one of our ancestors, stopping us from being born."

"You think so?" Chris asked.

"Makes sense, but I didn't think there were any Warren witches who lived in the Deep South."

"That's because there weren't." Chris stated, thinking back to when his mother had forced him to learn their family history. "Warren witches always lived on the east coast, until one our ancestors discovered the Nexus in San Francisco, and moved there, but they never lived in the South."

Wyatt screwed up his face in confusion, "Then what the hell are we doing here?"

"Unless," Chris thought, "maybe the Warrens aren't the target. Maybe the other side of our family is."

"Dad's side?" Wyatt asked.

"Well yeah, think about it, it was dad's old trunk he was searching, probably for something to create a connection to the past. Wiping out that side of the family still prevents our birth, but because there are no witches among them, he won't have much of a challenge."

"So wait," Wyatt said, trying to put all the information together. "This guy came back to kill dad, stopping him from earning the chance to become a Whitelighter? Well then we have to find dad. Where do you think he'd be?"

Chris sighed; his brother really was an idiot sometimes. "Wyatt, dad won't be born for another 70 years. He's old, but he's not that old. No, the demon probably came back a few generations earlier so that the Elders won't become aware that he plans to prevent the birth of a future Whitelighter."

"Gotcha, so now what?" Asked Wyatt.

Chris answered him, "We should ask around town, see if anybody has seen our demon."

"Good idea, we should go to the bar first."

"Why the bar?" Enquired Chris.

"Because I've been watching Western movies for years and the main character always finds out everything he needs to in the saloon." Stated Wyatt.

"Yeah but Wyatt those are movies, this is real life."

"Still, it could be useful. Now let's go." And he began walking towards the local drinking establishment. Chris sighed again, and followed him.

Out of all the clichés the boys had encountered since their arrival into the past, the saloon was easily the worst offender. And while Chris was aware that they weren't technically clichés considering that this was the original source of all the movies and other works of art that would follow in the decades to come, he felt that the point still stood. Entering through the saloon doors, the bar was a relatively dark mid-sized room, filled with tables. There was a poker game going on in one of the corners, and a piano was being lightly played under a staircase. Several of the men in the bar had women on their laps, and Chris had a feeling that they were prostitutes, judging by their clothing, and flirtatious behaviour toward the men. Most unnervingly however, was the fact that everyone in the room seemed to be carrying a gun, and that the all the patrons stopped talking and focused all their attentions on Wyatt and Chris as soon as they entered the building.

"Hi there!" said Wyatt cheerily, oblivious to the less-than-friendly stares they were getting.

"Umm Wyatt, maybe you should tone down it down a bit," whispered Chris nervously, as one of the customers growled at them.

"Easy Clive," came from a voice from the corner. Emerging from the shadows came a middle-aged man dressed in an apron and carrying a few glasses. "Don't you lot have anything better to do?" he spoke to the customers. The onlookers reluctantly returned to their own business.

"Sorry about them, they're not used to newcomers," the stranger announced to the brothers, walking towards the bar and motioning for them to follow him. "Name's Jack, I run this joint. You two just passin' through?"

Joining him at the bar, and taking a seat on a stool, Chris answered him, "Err yeah, how'd you know?"

"We don't get a lot of visitors in these parts, and most that come, leave shortly after. Folks round here aren't the most welcoming."

"You seem nice enough." Chris said.

"Being nice is good for business." Jack stated simply. "Now can I help you two folks?"

Wyatt began to speak, "Ah reckon you can, we're lookin' fer a man, long hair, tattoo on his face, black jacket, perhaps you seen him?" He said with a very noticeable Southern drawl.

Chris narrowed his eyes at him, making a mental note to slap his brother later.

"Can't say that I have, doesn't mean that he hasn't been through town though, I'll let you know if I see him. You two got names?" Jack replied.

Wyatt spoke without thinking, "Wyatt 'nd Chris."

"Wyatt?" Jack asked, "Any relation to Tom Wyatt?"

Oh yeah, Chris was definitely slapping Wyatt later, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity to find out more from the barman. Tom was obviously one of their ancestors, and they needed to protect him. "No relation, just a coincidence. But just who is this 'Tom Wyatt'? Where is he?"

"Town doctor," Jack answered, "office is a few doors down. He left this morning to get some supplies a few towns over, should be back in a few hours. You're welcome to wait here while you wait though. You can have a few drinks, and perhaps some company."

"Company?" asked Wyatt.

Jack nodded towards a corner of the room. Following his gaze the boys saw a few prostitutes, waving at them suggestively. Paling at the sight of them, they came up with excuses, and made to leave the saloon.

"I would but I have a girl back home," Chris said.

"Yeah, and they're uh, they're not mah type, sorry. We should probably look for our guy, but thanks for everythin', and let us know if you hear anythin' about him. Bye." Wyatt spoke, as the two backed out of the bar, taking care to avoid bumping into the hostile locals. After they made their way to the (relative) safety of the street, they began walking through the town.

"Alright," Chris said as they walked, "Tom Wyatt must be who the demon is trying to kill. So as soon as he gets back, we tail him. Once the demon shows up, we vanquish him. With him dead, our link to the past ought to be destroyed and we should return to the future."

"Should return to the future?" Wyatt asked in his normal voice.

Chris stopped him, "Well it's not an exact science, I can't be certain. And what the hell was with that accent?"

Wyatt shrugged his shoulders, "Hey, when in Rome dude."

Chris rolled his eyes, "Well we better find a place to hide; I don't want to have to deal with any more locals if I can avoid it."

"Good call." Wyatt agreed, and the two made off up the road, intent on finding somewhere safe to stay.

The boys had taken refuge on the roof of the general store, hidden behind a large sign. This was perfect for two reasons. Firstly, from their vantage point, they could observe the whole town, without being seen. And secondly, the store was directly across from the Doctor's Office, meaning they could see when their innocent got back, and if the demon attacked him there. So they had spent the last few hours on the roof, baking under the Southern Sun, forcing Wyatt to shed his heavy poncho and tossing it to the side, with a sad look on his face. They had however gotten a chance to view what life was like out on the frontier, from their observation point. Chris had actually seen a typical shoot out happen in the middle of the street, between the Sheriff and a Bandit. Chris began muttering about 'tired stereotypes', prompting Wyatt to ask 'What's a cliché?' before Chris slapped him upside the head. Now to their immense relief, the sun was going down, and the doctor had returned to his office, making Chris and Wyatt lie in wait.

"Chris, can I ask you something?" Wyatt pondered.

"Wyatt, for the last time, if you still don't know where babies come from, then ask someone else, I'm sick of telling you."

"Funny." Wyatt glowered at him.

Chris laughed, "I thought so, now what is it?"

"It's about dad."

"Shoot."

"It's just that," Wyatt began, "If dad was born was the 1920's and died in the 40's during the war, then that means he was our age when he was killed, right?"

"Yet another brilliant observation from Wyatt. Would you like a gold star? Or a lollipop?" Chris said sarcastically.

"You're mean." Wyatt responded darkly.

"I know, was there something else?"

Wyatt began again, "Yeah, if dad became a Whitelighter in his late teens, and as his body stopped aging at that point, then how come in some of moms old photos, like at their wedding, does dad look like he's about 30? It doesn't make any sense."

"Wyatt, we're a hundred and seventy years in the past trying to prevent a demon from killing our great-great grandfather, therefore preventing us from being born and erasing us from existence. Not a lot about our lives makes sense. When we get back, ask him yourself. Now hush, I'm trying to watch out for this guy." Chris responded.

Focusing his attentions back on the office, he noticed a figure shimmering into the upper level. Grabbing Wyatt and orbing them to the demon, he discovered Tom Wyatt nowhere in sight, and prayed that he was downstairs, out of harm's way. The demon however, looked stunned to see them there.

"What are you two doing here?" He asked nervously.

"You need to learn how to close your portals as soon you go through them." Chris said smirking.

"But-but- that can't be, how did –"

Chris cut him off, "oh stop blubbering, you're embarrassing yourself. Kill him Wyatt."

Wyatt did as instructed, throwing his arm towards the demon, causing him to be blasted to smithereens. Almost as soon as he had died, a white light engulfed the boys, and they felt themselves being dragged out of the room. Reappearing in Piper and Leo's bedroom, Chris noticed that it was still a mess, the demon having wrecked most of it in his quest to try and open the portal.

"Look at the state of this place. We better clean this up before mom gets home, or she'll kill us. Wyatt you start clearing some of this mess away and I'll go downstairs and get a couple of brooms." Chris said, as he walked out of the room towards the kitchen.

Returning to the bedroom a few minutes later he found Wyatt standing in the centre, head bowed, he clearly hadn't moved since they got back.

"Wyatt?" He asked slowly, "Is everything okay?"

No reply, but Chris swore he heard a sniffle.

"Wyatt you're scaring me, now what's wrong?"

Wyatt raised his head, showing his face. He looked like he was about to cry.

"I forgot my poncho." He said dejectedly.

Chris rolled his eyes and threw a broom at him, aiming for his head.

To be continued...

A/N: Thank you for reading and please tell me what you think in the reviews. Chapter Four will go up as soon as I get around to writing it.