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Chapter Text

Charlie pulled the tank top over her head. Through the window, the glass broken, she could see the day coming to an end. The bright blue sky from the day gave way for darkness. Her body felt tired, her skin sticky with sweat from the miles they had covered today. Next to her the bliss of a bath, filled with warm water.

When they had stumbled on this empty house, far enough from the main road to give them some cover, Charlie couldn't believe her luck when she realised the stove in the messy and abandoned kitchen was still working, right before she discovered the bath tub.

It took her some time and perseverance, plus an amusing look from him, but the bath was full, steam finding it's way through the small bathroom.

She had tried to ignore Monroe, but the arrogant bastard was sitting at the kitchen table with his boots firmly planted on the table like he was royalty, a drink in his hand. She had closed the door firmly behind her, leaning into the door for a moment.

There was an unusual chilliness in the air for the time of the year, and she shivered for a moment. Her jeans, bra and panties joined her top and boots in a small pile on the floor. She let herself slowly glide into the warm water, a small sigh leaving her lips when she was finally able to relax, the water surrounding her.

Bass had watched Charlie and her stubbornness at work when she had been determined to fill the tub with warm water. Right now he was doing his best not to think about her body in that tub. Damn it. It was time for another drink. A drink and a something to keep his hands busy and his mind away from her.

When she had offered to join him on their scouting trip, he had been pleasently surprised. There had been a part of him that didn't mind. At the end of the day she could be good company, she was smart and could stand on her own. It also helped that she somehow stopped putting an arrow, bullet or knife into his sorry ass.

When he heard her deep sigh,coming from the other side of the wall, a part of his body reacted that shouldn't right now, he simply couldn't keep his mouth shut.

'Everything all right, Charlotte?' his tone teasing.

'You don't exist right now, Monroe,' She snapped back at him. God, Charlie wished this house was larger, she wished for thicker walls. But at the same time his voice send a shiver through her spine.

They had spent the whole day on the road together, reminding her of all those weeks she had spent with him, travelling from Vegas back to Willoughby. Things had somewhat changed between them, in the way that she stopped wanting him dead and that she had stopped the actual attempts on his life.

Charlie found out they could actually work together when they had to, pretty well. That didn't mean he wasn't still an arrogant son of a bitch, and instead of killing him, she still wanted to break his nose on a daily basis. But, he had his moments, his company not being the worst kind of the world at times. He gave her space to take care of herself and his stories from happier days with Miles, were highly amusing, although she would never admit that to him.

They were on a scouting trip, looking for possible safe houses and all the information they could get on the patriots who were scattered all around this part of Texas. Miles was still recovering from the nasty infection on his hand, needing her grandfather still to attend to his injury, and her mother didn't want to leave Miles his side.

When Charlie had offered to join Monroe, Rachel had also didn't want Charlie to team up with Monroe. There had been a discussion, but without success from her mother's part. She was going. Charlie could use the space, and time away. End of discussion.

At least with Monroe, she got some room to breathe, to be herself. And Charlie knew this man was nothing she couldn't handle, already having spend so much time on the road with him.

Their first day on the road was a relatively quite one, for their standards. There were some discussions about where to go next, like always. A little insult about her tracking skills, like always. And some Monroe arrogance, followed by some deadly looks from her part, like always. When they were both running low on energy and in need of food and a drink, they one thing they agreed on fairly fast was that it was time to find a place to spend the night.

It had gotten dark almost completely, and the water had, to Charlie's regret, started to lose it's comforting warmth. She got out of the tub, using a little cloth to dry her skin. Her skin felt clean, and she couldn't remember the last time she had been able to wash her hair without feeling rushed. She reached into her bag and found a deep purple shirt, and clean black panties with a matching black bra.

When she walked back into the other room, She noticed Monroe was busy making a small fire in the old fireplace. Charlie threw her bag into a corner. She noticed he left his drink on the kitchen table. She reached for the drink, and enjoyed the little burn at the back of her throat when she took some sips.

'Hey, that's mine,' He growled.

'Don't be a selfish jerk Monroe, you enjoyed the rabbit I shot earlier just fine,' A hint of challenge in her eyes, when she took another sip from his drink.

Bass had ordered himself to find some wood outside to get a fire going, to get his mind of the woman on the other side off the wall. When she walked in, he couldn't help but notice the warm glow on her skin, a blush on her face, the purple top accentuating her curves.

He walked towards his glass, taking it out of her hands. Charlie was aware of the second their hands touched. He shot her one look before he walked back to the fire.

'Enjoyed your bath?' His voice was neutral, but his eyes were teasing her.

'Although spending times with all you guys, day after day filled with all the sweat, ego and testosterone, Charlie raised an eyebrow at Monroe, accentuating the sweat, ego and testosterone part, ' is freaking fabulous, I am still a woman, who likes a bath every now and then.'

Charlie turned away from him and walked into the room to check out their sleeping arrangements for the night. She could feel how his eyes were following her. In the corner she found an actual bed. This night was getting better and better, Charlie noticed, a smile around her lips. The long day on the road and the soothing warmth of the bed made her head spin with exhaustion.

She sat on the side of the bed, getting rid of her boots. She made sure her knife was close to her, in case of patriot trouble. On their last road trip together she kept her knife close to her at night, in case of Monroe trouble. Well, things had changed.

She slipped into the soft bed, pulling the blankets close. She let her body settle into the mattress, listening to the soft sounds of the fire. Charlie watched how Monroe found his bed roll from his stuff, and threw it on the dirty and cold floor next to him, somewhere between the fire and the bed.

Charlie did not know if it was the alcohol in her system but before she realised it, she had started talking to him. She lifted herself up, resting on her elbows.

'
'Seriously Monroe? After all those weeks on the road together, when we slept closer than this to each other, you chose the hard and cold floor over the comfort of a bed? Room enough over here, I never thought of you of being such a prude.'

Charlie could hear him sigh and felt a smirk forming around her lips. Her head touched her pillow again, her eyes heavy and almost closed.

With a shock she opened her eyes again when she heard the heavy sound of his boots, getting closer to the bed. There was a jolt to her complete system when he sat down at the other side of the bed. She heard his boots falling on the wooden floor and a shift in the bed when he laid down next to her, his back to her, still some room between them.

' Goodnight Charlotte,' His voice mocking.

Damn, she had expected a lot of things, but not this. She was in a bed, in the same bed as Monroe. His body way too close. She forced herself to sound calm and collected when she answered him.

'Sweet dreams, Monroe.'

Bass noticed how she went for the whatever Monroe tone , but Charlie was always very bad at hiding how she truly felt. Of course he had noticed the bed, and of course he would let her take it. First of all because he would never let a woman sleep on the floor, not a woman like Charlie. And second because Miles would kill him off, whenever he found out he would even come near the same bed as Charlie was in. That was until she started to challenge him.

He could feel how she moved her body, without any doubt, turning away from him. So, if this was how she wanted to play things, he thought? Well, two could play that game, a smile forming around his lips.

Chapter Text

Bass had looked at Charlie, the smooth lines of her body visible under the blanket. He looked at his bedroll on the floor, and wasn’t particularly looking forward to another night on another floor. The days were there was whiskey and a bed waiting for him at the end of the day, felt like a life time ago.

Hell, right now he wouldn’t even go near the bed at the other side of small room. Just because she apparently, for now at least, had stopped the attempts on his life and a kind of weird bond was forming between them, didn’t mean there would be all hell and fury from this woman when he even took one step in the direction of the bed.

He put some extra wood on the fire. When Bass had heard her smartass remark coming from Charlie, his first impulse was to ignore her. But there was something in her voice that made him reconsider.

And now he was laying next to her, the fire had died down, the drop in temperature in the room noticeable. He was still on top of the blanket, but there was no way in hell he would try to change that.

Fuck.

This had clearly not been one of his best ideas. He had slept close to her before, many times on the road back to Willoughby, but tonight was different. Hell, tonight he had to fight the image of her slender body in a steamy tub. Tonight he had felt his body react when she had sighed with content. Tonight she had to smell so damn good, the scent rich and soft at the same time.

But damn it if he would give her the pleasure of backing down first and move. Followed by another thought about some other pleasurable things he would wanted to do to her badly.

Double fuck.

Charlie had tried to throw the sweet dreams in his face as casual as possible, but she knew that he knew she had failed. The smug son of a bitch was actually laying beside her, instead of alone on his bed roll. Far away from her at this point.

She had wanted to piss him off calling his bluff, but instead of achieving that, she was pissed at herself. If he even dared to move an inch closer to her, she would strangle him. She could storm out of the bed or throw him out with some cold words, but she knew that was exactly what he was hoping for.

The Matheson stubbornness kicked in, and she decided to stand her ground. And just ignore the hell out of him, ignore the fact that he was a stupid amount of close. After what felt like forever she was able to finally get some sleep. Her last thought that she was happy she at least made the right call to keep on her pants before sliding under the covers, although she missed the feeling of bare skin touching a fresh and clean bed, memories from a time long ago.

When Bass woke up, he realised that somehow they had both turned in their sleep. The fire was out, pale morning light was streaming in from the windows. The shapes of the furniture in the room were getting sharper and sharper.

He did not move, his eyes were drawn for a moment to the sleeping woman, only inches away. One of her shoulders stuck out from under the covers, exposing tanned golden skin. Her hair messy around her head, blonde curls falling over the pillow. His eyes then reached her lips, full and lush.

Damn it, it was time to move. He found his boots where he left them on the floor close to the bed the night before, grabbed his weapon and went to the kitchen to find some breakfast. He kicked the kitchen door open with his boots, and sat down on one of the steps of the porch.

Charlie woke up closer to Monroe then she had expected. She had lost the inner battle with herself of not wanting to turn around in her sleep and keep as close as possible to her side of the bed.

He was close enough for her to see every line of his face, her eyes shortly resting on the deep lines next to his eyes. Then she followed the lines of his strong jaw lines. When she felt him starting to wake up, she quickly closed her eyes, hoping she would get away with fake sleep.

It had worked, at least, she hoped it had. She heard him put on his boots and when he had walked outside, she was finally able to breathe normally again.

She stretched her whole body like a cat before she got up and told herself to snap out of whatever place her mind went to just now.

This was Monroe, he was a son of a bitch with an ego the size of Texas. They made quite a reasonably team when it came to their scouting expeditions or in a fight, she had to admit that, but that was it. She wouldn’t allow any other kinds of thoughts anymore.

She found her leather jacket over one of the chairs in the kitchen, and grabbed some dry fruit out of her bag. Her water bottle was empty, so that meant going outside to fill it. When Charlie walked outside, she found Monroe sitting casually on the highest step, his boots on the ground, a little bit apart, one of his elbows resting on his knee. She noticed that the bastard took all the bread they had left with him.

Monroe shot a glare to her when she walked up to him, his eyes lighten up for a moment.

‘Care to share that breakfast?’ Her tone firm, meeting his gaze head on.

‘Well Charlotte, since you offered to share the bed, I see no reason why not?’ His voice deep, casual, but Charlie could see the smirk forming around his lips.

It earned him a deadly stare from her. He threw some of the bread in her direction. She caught it midair and noticed how hungry she was. Back to business she told herself firmly.

They had walked half a day, the sun high in the sky when they found a small stream, giving them the chance to refill their water canteens and take a much needed break. They had not been talking much.

Bass was leaning against a tree, when he watched her filling her canteen. When she put the canteen to her lips, she spilled some water, little drops of water flowing from her lips, following the line of her neck and disappearing somewhere just above the line of her tank top.

He wondered how the hell it would feel to lick the water of her skin, trailing south from the line of her jaw to her neck. Bass wondered how it would be to put his lips on her tanned skin. He wondered how her sigh, coming from the bathroom the night before, would sound close to his ear. This time, he wanted to be the one to make her sigh, make her moan. His mind went to the curves of her hips, digging his fingers in the soft flesh, pulling her close. He could almost feel the warmth of her breasts. He could imagine how it would be to slip his hand under her top, one breast in his hand, her hard nipple under the roughness of his own skin. Images of pushing Charlie against the tree behind him, taking her, her warm breath in his neck, his name coming from her lips..

‘Monroe.’

Fuck. He cursed under his own breath. Hardness pressing against his pants

He snapped out of his own thoughts, forcing himself to think about the many, many things Miles would do if he knew where the hell his mind had gone just now. It wasn’t the first time he fantasised about her, but it was the first time he had thought about her with this intensity. It was the first time she had actually fucking stood before him when he had snapped out of his thoughts.

Charlie was still standing next to the stream, but now she was looking his way, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

‘So, are we ready to go, or do you need some more Monroe time ?’

He grunted something to her, causing Charlie to roll her eyes at him. He grabbed his stuff and started to walk in her direction, his eyes firmly on the ground before him. Whatever the fuck Charlie would say or do, tonight he would chose his bedroll, or even just a cold floor, over any bed.

It was another warm summer day. They had just stumbled upon a small camp patriot camp and quickly gathered as much information as they could, from a distance, making sure they kept their cover.

When they were discussing what their next move would be, Charlie noticed little drops of sweat on Monroe’s chest, right above the low v-neck of his shirt.

Images of her hand on his chest were filling her mind fast. She wondered how his chest would feel, how all those muscles would feel against the skin of her hand. She wondered how he would taste, her lips against the skin, right at the base of his neck. Her mind took over when she thought about how it would feel to make a trail from his collarbone to his neck with her lip. How his scruff would feel against her skin when she pressed her lips against his. She thought about running her hands through his hair, how it would be to pulling his tall and battle hard body close. She tried to imagine the sensation of his hard chest against the curves of her breasts. How her nipples would harden against the fabric of her bra.

‘Enjoying the view, Charlotte?’

Wait, what?

Charlie felt how she froze , although her knees played a tricky game with her, when his voice brought her back to the reality of Monroe standing close to her, and her eyes still at the same level of his chest for a second. The images from just before still very sharp, she forced herself to look away from his chest. At the same time she tried to answer her own question of how long she had been staring at him.

‘Go to hell Monroe, you presumptuous asshole,’ she snapped in his direction.

She had to turn away from him to put as much distance between them, fast. Her cheeks dangerously warm.

Bass had taken his time, watching Charlie drift away. He let one of his hands rest on his sword, casually standing before her, without taking his eyes from her. Her deep blue’s were glued to his chest, her lips had parted a little bit.

He had just wanted to screw with her head, but when she actually started to blush a bit, a thing much unlike Charlie, and turned away from him fast, he couldn’t help but think she had been enjoying the view.

But then he reminded himself that this was Charlie.

Charlie who had marched to Vegas to kill his sorry ass.

Charlie, half his age.

Miles niece.

Charlie who was just tolerating him, on a good day.

What the hell was he thinking? Was this some kind of blue ball hell, not having been with a woman, any woman for way to long, screwing with his mind?

‘So, are we going to find some food or do you need a handwritten invitation?’ She shouted in his direction, without even turning her head towards him.

Bass noticed the swing of her hips, the chains of her belt moving in synch with her steps, when Charlie walked away from him. He shook his head and let out a sigh filled with frustration.

Well, at least HE was enjoying the view.

Chapter Text

The good news was that the next house for them to spend the night in was one they had already used before, and Charlie was pretty sure that Miles had hid some booze on one off the top shelves in the kitchen.

Of course Charlie never told him she helped herself to a drink, well technically it was his drink, every now and then. She always took just enough from the bottle to enjoy herself, but not enough to make it too obvious. It was way too much fun to watch Miles from a distance, the confused look on his face when he was trying to figure out if the bottle had not been fuller before. She liked to mess with his head a little this way, it was payback for all the times she had to listen to him calling her kid or even better, a moron.

The bad news was that she had to share the house, and probably the alcohol too, with Monroe. Since her mind had wondered to a place she never wanted or intended to go, his chest, his scruff, his hands on her breasts, so yeah, that place, and more than once now, she hadn't talked to him anymore. What the hell was wrong with her? Was this some kind of hormonal thing that threw her of balance?

When she reached the house, sunset was almost there, the perfect time for hunting. She just nodded at Monroe. The old familiar feeling of their weeks previously spent on the road together, reminding her of their old rhythm. Sunset, hunting, food, and sleep, followed by another long day on the road.

Bass walked up the porch, the wooden floorboards squeaking under his boots. When he turned around he was just able to see Charlie disappear in the line of trees, crossbow strapped to her back.

He let go of a deep sigh. What the hell was it with this woman? She went from hot to cold, from challenging him until she went right back to pushing him away, again.

But there was something about this move closer and push away attitude of hers, that made him want to dig in deeper.

He had his share of woman, and hell it was time for some action. Charlie awoke something in him, a deep hunger that drove him crazy with frustration.

Fuck, he hoped Miles had left a good strong drink behind in this place, knowing his brother, there probably was some emergency stash.

When Charlie returned to the house, two rabbits dangling in her hand, she sat on the porch and got to work. Her stomach was growling with hunger, and she worked fast and efficiently.

They shared the modest dinner in silence on the porch. Charlie walked to a little creek, the last light of the day fading. She welcomed the coolness from the forest . She let the water flow over her face, neck and wrists, to cool her down after a long day.

When she walked back to the house, she could see Monroe had made a fire, a little glow coming through the window at the right side of the house. She stopped abruptly when she saw him. Her eyes glued to the silhouette of the man inside, his chest bare while he reached into his bag for a shirt. Her heartbeat picked up, and for a moment she let her eyes roam over the lines of his shoulders and back

Get a grip, she ordered herself before she walked up to porch and through the door.

Bass had watched her walk in and wondered if she was ever going to open her mouth tonight. He sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to start a nice deep conversation. If she wanted to keep the talking to a bare minimum, well, that's what she could get.

'Going to get some more water,' he grunted in her direction, not even waiting for her reply.

Whatever Monroe, she shrugged her shoulders, when her eye fell on the top shelve in the kitchen. It was a small kitchen, dust and grease everywhere, an old faded picture still on the fridge. She had to stand on the very top of her toes, but she was pretty sure she could see a bottle of the much needed booze that should het her through this night in this house with him. She stretched out completely, extending her arm as far as she could, but instead of getting her fingers around the bottle on the shelve, she pushed it further away.

'Need some help, Charlotte?' There was mocking and amusement in his tone.

'Not from you, Monroe,' she snapped back.

When Bass came back, he had walked in on Charlotte, standing on the top her toes, trying to reach for something that looked a hell of a lot like a good drink on one of the top shelves. His eyes fell on to the curves of her hips and ass.

The way she was standing right now, made her top sneak up a little, giving him excess to some smooth skin from her slender lower back. Hell, she was a sight for sore eyes.

'Interested in making a deal?'

He watched how Charlie turned around slowly, irritation in her eyes.

' I am pretty sure that's Miles emergency bottle.' He pointed at the bottle above her head.

'You can break your neck trying to get it, or accept some help.'

'The only condition to our little deal, is that you play nice and share the bottle.'

Charlie looked at his smug face, and she wanted to slap him badly. The problem was, she wanted that drink even more badly.

'Fine,' she grunted at him.

With a couple of big steps he was standing impossibly close to her. His eyes met hers, Charlie noticed the smug smile still plastered on his face. A hint of challenge in his eyes. Charlie decided she was not going to move one inch. She was not going to give the bastard that satisfaction. At the same time realisation hit her that there might be something else she wanted badly at this moment. Although wanting pretty soon changed into a deep craving.

Bass had expected her to move, or at least give him a cold warning with her eyes. But she didn't. So he took another step closer, towering a little bit above her, his chest almost touching her breasts, his eyes still on her when he reached above her to get the bottle. He could feel himself hardening at the closeness of her body, the curves of her breasts actually meeting his chest now. He could feel himself hardening at the way she didn't even flinch, her eyes never leaving his.

Charlie felt how his chest touched her breasts for a short moment, she was almost close enough to touch the skin of his neck with her lips. God, he smelt good. She had to fight the urge of wanting to grab his shirt and keep his chest in the place where it was now. She was still fighting that urge when he stepped away from her all of a sudden, a triumphant look in his eyes, holding the bottle right in front of her face.

'Ladies first.'

It was not lost on Charlie that there was an genuine smile on his face, a smile she hardly ever saw.

She yanked the bottle out of his hands, stepping away from him, and turning back to the kitchen cabinets. She had to open some of them, but behind the second door, she found what she needed. Two shot glasses. Time for the first round, time for some alcohol to keep her mental sanity.

After two shots, Charlie felt the warmth going through her body. She had discovered a book case in the living room. She let her fingers roam over the book titles.

In this high pressure world, a stack of books and time to look over them, became a luxury Charlie never experienced anymore since they were nonstop on the road.

Before, Aaron had surprised her on her sixteenth birthday with a travelling book ,many birthdays ago. It took her to Europe, Africa and Australia. In her mind she visited Rome, Melbourne and Paris. She had read about Italy, the lush mountains in Africa and enjoyed the pictures of sunsets all over the world. She had known the book by heart in no time.

To her delight she found an old faded book, an old travel guide about Venice. She put her glass on the wooden table not far away from the fire and took the book in her hands, flipping through the pages. Dust flew in air, pictures of the canals, palaces, the San Marco square and Italian pasta and espresso's filling the pages.

Bass walked from the kitchen back to the small living area, when he saw Charlie standing with a book in her hands, far away in her own thoughts. The light of the fire gave her skin a soft glow. He sat down on the worn couch, his third drink loosely in his right hand

'So, Italy huh? Making travel plans?'

Charlie tore her eyes away from the book in her hands, closed it and put it back in the bookcase.

'Maybe,' Earning her a quizzing look from Monroe.

She let out a small sigh, deciding not to go for the defence. She could always blame to booze when things would go to hell later.

'Well, that's why I am such good friends with Aaron, you know,' a small smile appearing around her lips.

'He used to own a helicopter and an airplane. Some houses in Europe, Asia and Australia. I know it's a long shot, but when the power comes back, I'm planning to take the helicopter to the plane, the plane to Europe and start in Rome with the road trip of the century. I'm sure Aaron knows all the good places over there.'

She crashed down on the couch beside him, making sure there was still more than enough distance between them.

'So, this road trip of yours, place for anyone else next to Stay puft?

Calling Aaron Stay Puft earned him a quick punch to his ribs from Charlie.

'Why Monroe? You can't wait to take on a new continent filled with woman? Running out of woman over here? I'm sure they are all waiting for that amazing Monroe experience. back in Europe' She tried to snap at him, but there was something about him tonight, that made that impossible.

Bass slammed down another shot, he could not help but smile at her.

Charlie put her hands around the bottle in front of her, and filled her glass for the last time, realising she would sent herself to bed very soon. When Monroe reached out his hand and held out his glass in front of her, she rolled her eyes at him.

'A deal is a deal Charlie,' his eyes filling with a hint of menace, when Charlie filled his glass one more time,

'So, the Monroe experience? No wait, how did you call it, the amazing Monroe experience. Sure sounds like you give it some thought.'

Charlie felt something stir deep down in her stomach. Yeah, she was definitely blaming the booze for what she was about to say. She got up from the couch, walked over to the stairs and looked him directly in his eyes.

'Not much thought Monroe, but yes, some thought.'

She saw his eyes get bigger, shooting her a look with disbelieve, Finally she felt in control again , in control of what the hell it was that was going on between her and Monroe. She shot him a quick smile, not waiting for his reply. When she reached the top of the stairs, she walked into one of the bedrooms and before she slammed the shut behind her , she shouted in the direction of the stairs

'Goodnight Monroe.'

Chapter Text

Moonlight

So yeah, it had seen like a badass way to conclude the night, throwing that in Monroe's face. But when she let herself fall on the small bed in the dark bedroom, knowing he was still downstairs, it left her feeling frustrated. Frustrated and filled with deep want. She let out a deep sigh, getting rid of her boots, jeans, bra and tank top, reaching for a simple black t shirt from her bag. She slid down under the covers, a little tipsy from the booze, but still far away from getting any sleep.

She could picture Monroe downstairs, sitting on the worn couch and the way he had looked at her, drink casually in his hand, made her body react even more than it had already did when she was still sitting beside him.

She couldn't not fantasise of what it would be like to straddle him, her legs on either side of him, her core pressed to his pants, his eyes on her. It made her hand find its way to her panties. She could feel her own wetness through the soft fabric. She stroked herself, feeling the sensation of deep want pulsing through her clit.

Then she heard his boots downstairs. She yanked her hand away from her panties, holding her breath. She wanted some release badly, but there was something that held her back, made it impossible for her to let go. He was just too damn close. Too close and Sebastian Monroe. Frustrated she turned herself onto her left side. The alcohol in her system made her fall asleep eventually, but not for long.

When Charlie woke up, the first things she felt was the beginning of a headache. Water. She needed some, now. She put her feet on the wooden floor, slipped into her pants and grabbed the gun from the nightstand. She walked to the door and she opened it softly, listening to the sounds of the house.

There was only darkness when she looked down the stairs, silence in the air. With a sigh of relieve she walked down the stairs, glad Monroe had gone to bed too apparently. She walked down the last steps of the stairs before she headed back to the kitchen.

Bass had felt his body react to her last words, before she disappeared upstairs for the night.

Not much thought, Monroe. But yes, some thought.

He cursed under his own breath. He poured himself a drink, and then another one. Trying not to think about Charlie, upstairs, in a bed, alone. The fire started to die down but he didn't give a damn. After he finished the bottle he fell asleep on the couch, not even bothering with going upstairs.

He did not know how long he had been sleeping, but the sound of steps on the stairs woke him up. For a moment his eyes went to his weapon on the table next to him, but he realised the sound of the steps belonged to Charlie fast.

He got up slowly and followed her into the kitchen.

'Trouble sleeping Charlotte?' His voice sounded hoarse with sleep, one hand going through his scruff.

He had to very fucking wrong, but he'd be damned if she was wearing a bra under that shirt, his eyes quickly going to the curves of her breast under her shirt. Holly hell.

Charlie just put the glass of cool water to her lips when she heard him. Her heart missed a beat, her instincts making her reach for the gun she had taken with her downstairs and left at the kitchen counter to fill her glass. She let out a sigh with relieve.

'Jeez Monroe, you scared the hell out of me,' the relieve made way for a feeling of irritation. She turned around and watched how he walked into the kitchen casually.

All of a sudden her mind reminded her that her bra was still in her room, leaving her uncomfortable before him.

'I apologize Charlie, I didn't mean to scare you,' His voice low, sending a shiver through her spine. She watched how he took one step closer to her, resting his hand on one of the kitchen chairs.

'So, what the hell do you want, Monroe,' She let her body rest against the kitchen counter, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. The hint of menace in his eyes told her to brace herself for a nice Monroe remark.

'Well, I was thinking about those thoughts you talked about earlier ,you know, before disappearing upstairs.' Amusement in his tone.

Bingo. Charlie noticed he turned on the Monroe charm in his voice. Bastard.

He had closed the distance between them, leaving them both at the same place where they had started the evening, when Charlie tried to grab Miles' bottle.

Monroe touched her hair ever so lightly, tucking one lock of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers run over the sensitive skin of her neck before pulling his hand back.

Charlie bit her lip. She should slap his face, telling him to take a hike, far away from her.

But she surprised herself by letting him touch her.

But her body, her body screamed for him. His touch was light, but filled with enough determination to make her knees weak and her breathing faster.

She closed her eyes for a quick second. Fighting in her mind between the impossibility of this all, and the deep hunger for this man, this pull between them that had filled her with complete confusion for many weeks now.

'Did that happen in one of your thoughts?' His deep voice whispering in her right ear. Charlie realised he had never been this close to her.

God, she hated him. But right now, she wanted him more. She felt a little bit dizzy, like everything else around her faded away. The darkness of the kitchen, only the pale moonlight coming through the kitchen window, made her feel like this was another world, a sheltered little corner of a world where she could let go, let her body speak.

And maybe, after giving in, she could let go of this insane hunger for him.

'No,' She looked up to meet his eyes. She felt how he tensed up and almost pulled away from her, his eyes filling with distance quickly.

'But this did.'

She touched the skin of his neck with her lips, tasting him. Tasting a hint of sweat, combined with something deep and spicy. All Monroe. It was intoxicating. When she found his eyes, filled with hunger and shock from her gesture, she couldn't help but lick her lips.

Bass eyes followed the small movement of her tong roaming over her lips, before he gave in to the impulse of crashing his mouth on hers.

The kiss started out slowly, nipping at her lips, giving her room to stop this at any moment.

Although he really fucking wished she wouldn't.

Charlie tilted her head back a little and Bass noticed she was standing on her toes to kiss him back.

'Need some help, Charlie?'

'Shut up Monroe,' Bass could feel her smile against his lips.

He put his hands under her ass and lifted her away from the ground and onto to the kitchen counter. His hands went through her hair, resting at the back of her head. Her hands roamed over his chest.

Bass slowly slipped a hand under her shirt.

Fuck. He had been right. No bra.

It made his cock pulse under the fabric of his pants. He firmly cupped her right breast with one hand, a hard nipple between his finger. He deepened the kiss, a deep moan coming from her mouth making him even harder.

It took her a moment to realise that it was her moan, finally releasing from a point deep within her. Charlie closed her eyes, curved her back towards him, pressing her breast further into the palm of his hand. The rough skin of his hand setting her skin on fire with pleasure.

She was done fighting. For now, she gave in, she gave in to him.

She needed more, the intense feel of wanting to feel his skin against hers. She slowly pulled his shirt over his head, a movement full with the promise of more, one of the most erotic things she had ever done.

Bass freed her breast, freed the smooth lines of her stomach when with one smooth movement, he pulled her shirt over her head. Her blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and breasts.

He took a moment to take her in. Charlie could feel his eyes on her breasts, her nipples hardening more under his deep look. The intensity made her almost forget to breathe, made her look away from him for just a short moment, because it was almost too much. Too much of him. She had been with other men, but with him, things were so completely different. It was a new sensation washing over her.

She felt his hand under her chin, gently turning her head back to him. A reassurance appearing in his eyes which made her pull back into him, letting go off all her boundaries.

Charlie put her hands on his bare chest, finally feeling his battle hard body under her hands, just like she had craved in her thoughts earlier today. She did not let go of his eyes, when she explored the lines of his muscles with her fingertips.

He had many scars, memories from fights and battles in the past, and she explored each and every one. She took her time and kissed them gently, while her hands touched the skin of his back. Charlie placed a hand on his left cheek, going through his scruff. For one moment she saw something in his eyes, that had never been there before.

Bass felt her hands all over his chest and his hard stomach, her mouth almost caressing every scar he ever deserved from walking away from a fight still alive. He could only look at her movements, and for a moment he never felt so damn close to her.

Her hands went back to his chest and this time they kept going south. When her hand found his hard dick, he couldn't hold back anymore, letting out a deep grunt himself.

'Fuck, Charlie.' His tone was hoarse and deep, filled with raw want.

Charlie felt how her core started to pulse. She slowly started to rub over the fabric of his pants that separated his erection from her hand. Damn, he was hard. She felt something tighten in her with anticipation.

His hand made a perfect line from her neck to the waistband of her pants. He opened the button and let his hand disappear inside. His fingers gliding over the soft fabric of her panties, close to the sensitive skin underneath.

Damn, she was wet.

'For you,' Charlie whispered in his ear.

She let out a loud moan when he found her clit, his fingers sliding through her wetness, applying the right amount of pressure. One hands was digging into his shoulder, looking for any kind of support. The other one was free to grab his ass. She started panting when he found a perfect rhythm.

Bass could feel her tense up, her head tilted back, her lips parted. It didn't take long before her moans became louder and deeper. Her grasp on her shoulders tightened even more, when he slid a finger into her. And another one. He felt how she pulled him closer, her head now resting on his chest. Her insides felt tight around his fingers.

Fuck, he needed her. He needed her right now, right here.

He pulled back his hand from her panties, leaving Charlie gasping for air when he suddenly left her.

While she started to work on his belt and pants, Bass appreciating her fast hands and determination. He sucked on a little bit of skin of her neck.

When his erection was finally freed from the almost painful friction against the fabric of his pants, Charlie took a moment to take him in. His cock looked strong, and she couldn't resist putting her left hand over his hardness, stroking him, watching his reaction to her movements. She pressed her lips against his chest, and listened to another moan coming from deep within his chest.

He lifted her back on her feet, pulled down her pants in an almost excruciating slow pace, her panties not far behind while he pressed a wet kiss on her abdomen. He then placed her back on top of the kitchen counter. She spread her legs slowly, giving him a last teasing look before Bass leaned into her and put her legs around his waist, one by one.

He placed the tip of his hardness right in front of her entrance, his forehead resting against hers. With their eyes locked, he filled her completely with one deep thrust. He could feel her fingernails digging into his back, while she let out a deep scream of sheer lust. The moan shot right through his balls, making him starting to thrusts in her with a deep but slow pace. His hands around her hips, pulling her closer with every thrust.

When Charlie felt how her body closed around his hard length, she heard a deep groan coming from his throat. It made her even wetter.

They reached a point where neither of them knew where the other started and the other began.

Charlie loved the feel of his mouth on her skin, on her lips, his tong dominating the inside of her mouth.

Bass bit on her soft and full lips. They way she was surrendering herself, to him, made him lose himself in her.

His lenght, going for that perfect spot inside of her with every carefully timed thrust.

Her tight wetness, wrapped around his dick.

His deep groan.

Her perfect moans every time he thrust into her, picking up the pace.

His deep gaze.

Her beautiful eyes.

And when Charlie felt how he started to rub her clit with his fingers, she had to close her eyes, she had to hold on to his body to have some sort of a lifeline. She couldn't stop the build up in her core anymore.

Bass felt it, he noticed how Charlie went to a place that made him want to come, while he drank in every bit of her, every bit of Charlotte the way she was right now.

He watched her come, her face fucking stunning while she let out a deep moan, and he felt her inside spasm around his dick.

He kept thrusting into her, his hand digging into her soft hips, until he couldn't hold out anymore himself. With one last thrust, her legs still firmly wrapped around his waist, a feeling of instant regret when he had to pull out of her, he came all over the inside of her thigh, one last groan in her neck.

Charlie felt like every strength had left her body, feeling sated and lightheaded, her heartbeat in her ears, the only thing left to do was to let her head land onto his chest. Their body still close, both slick with sweat. A feeling of deep satisfaction coming over her when she slowly came back to the small kitchen.

Chapter Text

The kitchen counter felt cold against her skin all of a sudden, leading to a small shiver going through her body. Charlie felt how his hands were slowly going over her back, and for one moment she savoured the feeling of his chest.

There were only nightly sounds outside, the moonlight giving the room still that pale glow. She could feel his heartbeat and for one moment she wasn't sure what to do next. She just came around Monroe. She had lost herself completely in the man she spend so much time hating.

But from the moment she woke up in that empty swimming pool, a war of words between them, there was something about his intensity that woke something in her. It started a battle in her head between hating him, pushing him away and somehow ending up in a fight or another road trip together. Not react to him was an impossibility from the start.

'You are stunning, Charlotte,'  his voice hoarse, still a little bit out of breath.

'You were not too bad yourself Monroe,' she grinned at him, finally locking eyes with him again.

Bass lifted her up, her legs still wrapped around his waist., one hand under her ass, one hand firmly on her lower back. He couldn't not look at her, he couldn't not notice the glow from her skin and her blushed face.

The feeling of her surrender, to whatever the hell just happened, had made him hard as a rock. He walked her over to the couch and with a play full move, he dropped her on the couch.

'Don't move,' he grunted.

'Not planning on going anywhere like this,' the sensual tone in her voice wasn't lost on Bass. Charlie stretched her body with content and shot him a soft smile.

Bass made sure the fire kept going again, giving the room a much needed touch of warmth. The cold from the night seeping through the walls of the small house.

He then grabbed a blanket from his bag and walked back to Charlie. She was leaning into the back of the couch, her eyes half closed. He never saw her like this, her guard down, relaxed. Tomorrow it would be all fighting and arguing again, no doubt. But for now, he intended to enjoy as much of her as he could.

Charlie felt a content laziness coming over her. When he sat down next to her, just like a couple of hours ago, he pulled her close to him, and wrapped her in the blanket. Bass felt the warmth of her skin radiating onto his. Her fingers went over the strong muscles from his thigh, her touch feather light. His hand was playing with her hair.

She moved her hands up slowly, laying still against his body. She was making him hard again.

'Charlie?'

'Yes, Monroe?' A casual kind of innocence in her voice.

Charlie let her hand touch his balls for the quickest of moments, to tease him even further.

'Unless you want to go for round two, I seriously suggest you stop the hell what you are doing.'

'Well, I am up for it, I just guessed you might needed some time to recover, you know since you are..'

Bass did not let her finish,, his lips close to her ear.

'Remember, you asked for this Charlotte.' The low grunt of his voice send a raw shot of deep lust between her legs.

Charlie felt how her breathing got heavier, she felt how he turned his body, lifted her up a little, placing her with her back against his stomach and chest, right between his thighs. Her legs rested on the fabric from the couch.

Bass started to explore the soft skin of her neck with his mouth. Wet kisses made a trail from her jaw to her shoulder. He felt how she pushed her body against him, small moans coming from her mouth.

Charlie placed her hands on his thighs, her fingers digging in his skin. His hands cupped her breasts again, this time from behind. One hand stayed on her breast, the other moved on to her stomach. She could feel she was already getting wet, or maybe she was just still wet, her sensitive skin between her legs still swollen from their encounter in the kitchen.

Bass gently stroked the inside of her thighs before he started to make small circles around her clit. His eyes were resting on her breasts, her hard nipples and his hand between her leg. She was hot as hell.

She tilted her hips to meet his touch. When she could feel his fingers sliding inside of her, the new sensation and angle made her almost come. She let go of his thighs and reached behind her, to close her hands around his neck. Charlie felt his hard cock against her back.

She closed her eyes, her mind going to the fantasy she had earlier. Straddling him, feeling him filling her, riding him.

She started to move slowly, turning away him. She got off the couch for one moment, his eyes filling with surprise.

'Sit back,'  She spoke the worlds slowly.

Bass moved his body, so his feet were on the wooden floor, his impressive erection standing between his legs, waiting for her. Charlie took one step closer, settled between his legs and softly started to let her lips go over his thighs. She watched his eyes get bigger, while she teased him with more kisses.

She then straddled him, one leg on each side of his hard body, putting her arms around his neck. Her wet folds slowly rubbing over his cock, causing him to tilt his head back and close his eyes.

Fuck, she was good at this.

Bass turned his head back to her and grunted her name when she finally lowered herself onto his dick, and he could feel the warmth of her walls closing around him.

To hear him grunt her name like this, right here, right now, his dick buried inside of her, was almost too much for Charlie. She started to move faster, picking up the speed, taking him in deeper. Playing with her balance to find the perfect spot for his dick to touch inside of her.

Bass decided he wanted to feel her even closer, and had moved her on her back , the weight of his body pushing her into the couch. Charlie was surprised how good it felt to let go of the control, how he felt all over her.

He was thrusting into her intensely when all of a sudden he was slowing down, a devilish grin on his face, teasing her with every carefully timed thrust back into her. Her hands were wrapped around his shoulders, and one of her legs were locked around his waist.

What happened next, wasn't something Charlie had planned, or ever expected to happen. But feeling him close, their bodies locked, sweat, panting and the build up of another mind shattering orgasm made her take down that firmly build up wall she had placed between her and him. She wanted to come so badly, come when she locked eyes with him, feeling her orgasm through her whole body.

Charlie looked at him, trying to grab his ass to pull him in deeper.

'I need to come,' she moaned, out of breath.

'Bass, let me come.'

For one short moment Bass eyes lit up, almost coming to a complete stop while he was still inside of her. Hearing his name, coming from her for the very first time, made him almost come without even moving. He stared into her blue's, filled with hunger and lust, her eyes unfocused.

He started to move inside of her again, and again. Each thrust deeper, faster until he could hear her scream his name again while she came under him.

Charlie's body begged for every thrust, and with one last deep thrust from Bass, she wasn't able to hold back. She came with an intensity that let everything else fade away, she came with the sound of his name coming from his lips on more time.

Bass.

It was enough to push him over the edge too, spilling himself on her stomach.

He moved his body away from her, holding on to her so she moved with him. Charlie felt completely spend, her body curved against his. Forming words into sentences too difficult for her completely stated mind. Sated with him, sated with Bass. She could sense the deep scent of his skin, she could feel him wrapped around her, like he was everywhere. She felt how her eyes got heavier.

Bass heard her breathing even out. With his free hand he grabbed the blanket, covering both their bodies. He looked down at her, her hair resting on his chest, this fierce woman fighter in his arms, asleep.

Chapter Text

Rain and a fire

Charlie woke up with the weight of an arm around her, pale grey light breaking the darkness of the small living room. She could hear the faint sound of rain ticking against the smudged windows around her. The soft sounds woke her up, one raindrop crashing against the glass at the time. Part of her brain was still asleep and part of her brain wanted to stay asleep feeling strangely fulfilled, warm and deeply relaxed. The rain outside started to intensify.

She started to sense more than the weight of an arm covering her. Her lips were close to a chest. Her legs were entangled with other legs. Charlie stayed one more second in the land, the perfect blissful land of moments between waking up and still asleep, before she realized those legs were his. Before she realised that the chest she had been falling asleep on belonged to him. And that the arm around wrapped around her was Monroe's.

Sharp flashes of his hands and eyes roaming over her body made her heart beat faster, like little shock through her system. She had not wanted to fall asleep afterwards, but somehow she had ended up asleep, asleep wrapped around him.

Slowly Charlie started to move, freeing herself from his arm. She turned away from his body, sitting up next to him on the edge of the couch, putting her feet on the wooden floor. She shivered. In the morning light, the room around her felt so much different than the night before.

Bass felt her movements immediately. He caught some sleep himself, but he never allowed himself a deep kind of sleep, a luxury that belonged to another life. It had been forever since he had fallen asleep with the warmth of a woman next to him. He wasn't surprised that Charlie had turned away from him, the moment she woke up.

Last night had been hot as hell, something that had been in the air for quite some time if he had been totally honest. And if she had not been Charlie Matheson, if this wasn't the stubborn woman, all hell and fury,

and Miles nice for that matter, fuck don't go there right now,

that had tried to end his sorry ass on multiple occasions, he would have pushed her against a three and devoured her right there a long time ago.

But he had no illusions that there would be another night, another night with her. Not after all the mess from the past. He could feel how she put distance between them already, her body still close, but he could sense the shift in her. Charlie Matheson was good at a lot of things, but hiding how she truly felt was never one of her strengths.

When she was about to get up, Bass lifted himself up, resting on one elbow, and placed a hand between her shoulder blades. After a couple of seconds she turned his way, meeting his eyes.

Charlie pulled the sheet closer around her body. To his surprise Bass felt how Charlie leaned into his touch a little. He shifted his hand to her neck, playing with her hair, and shifted her hair back over one of her shoulders before he pressed his lips on her bare shoulder.

Charlie was close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, allowing herself a couple more seconds with him, before she told herself to get up. Told herself to walk away, to get dressed and face another day on the road.

She didn't look back when she finally walked away. And when she got dressed, strapped her belt with her knife around her waist, she knew for sure. This night, his lips, his touch, his hard body, him filling her, the room filled with them, with their moans and grunts. All of that, Charlie would let this stay behind, in this house. Last night he had been Bass, last night was a sensual dance together, in a isolated house, a dark room far away from everything. Far away from their past, far away from her family. This could not happen again. Ever.

When Charlie walked downstairs, the night had faded away. The little house felt different. Bass was gathering his stuff and Charlie walked straight to their supplies to get some food. When Bass had watched her walking down the stairs, fully dressed, chains rattling around her hips with every step, he knew they would go back to whatever they had been before last night. The look in her eyes told him enough.

At the end of the day they would join the rest of the group at the safe house, concluding their days on the road. As much as he should, he didn't regret anything. He couldn't bring himself to feel that. Not when it came to her.

When Charlie put on her jacket, she heard how the rain started to poor down. She had felt the shift in the weather yesterday, she had seen it in the sky, she had felt it in the way the direction of the wind changed. She had seen enough storms rolling her way to know. She walked outside the porch when the first sound of thunder rolled through the sky. The wind blew locks of hair in her face and the normally so clear morning sky was dark grey.

Seriously? She thought bitterly. Days of warm weather, and when she really wanted to get back on the road, all hell was breaking lose.

Bass had walked outside and stood not far behind Charlie. He had watched the sky and then turned to Charlotte. The little frown between her eyes and the irritation in her eyes told him enough. He knew what she was thinking. He was barely able to hold back a small smile. He couldn't say he mind spending some more time with her.

He got some dry wood from the porch and was almost inside when he turned towards her.

'Well Charlotte, it looks like you are stuck with me a little while longer.' His voice low and mocking, nodding at the even darker clouds that were heading their way.

When he turned away from her he could see how she tensed her back and crossed her arms before her chest, letting out an irritating sigh.

He cleaned all his weapons, Charlie cleaned all of hers. Bass sat down in front of the fire inside in silence, she sat on the porch, her back against the wall. She had found a little spot out of the wind, but she was still freezing her ass off. She could go inside, but that meant, going inside where he was.

When the lightning and thunder really exploded all around her, she knew she had no more choice. She walked inside, shutting the door behind her, locking the storm out. She started going through the kitchen cabinets without true aim. She found some tea that did not look to bad. The fire in the living room meant she could at least heat up some water and have something warm to drink.

She was not sure what to do next when her eyes fell back on the bookcase in the corner of the room.

She curled up in the left corner of the couch, the travelling book she found yesterday, open and resting on her knees, the mug of tea between her hands. For the next hour she disappeared in the little streets of Venice, she disappeared into the colours and history of the city. She let herself disappear in a world that once was.

When she turned a page her eyes fell on Bass who was still sitting in front of the fire, lost in his own thoughts. She had seen him like this so many times, she lost count. He could do this, literally for hours.

'Did you travel? You know, before?' The sound of her voice broke through the sounds of the rain and the fire in the room.

Bass looked like he needed some time to realise she actually asked him a question. He noticed her tone was calm. He looked up to her. He nodded his head.

'I've been in Iraq, two tours.'

'With Miles.' Her answer wasn't a question. Another nod from him.

Bass lifted himself up from the floor and walked over to her, crashing on the unoccupied side of the couch. When he saw her eyes went back to the pages, he realised that the book in Charlie's hands, was a symbol for a life she never would know. He did not know why, but it was like a cold punch in the stomach.

He cleared his throat before he spoke again.

'So, tell me. I know Italy is on your travel list with Stay Puft. Some more plans?'

Charlie took another sip from her tea. His eyes went over the deep red from her lips, when they wrapped around the edge of the mug. There was another roll of deep thunder outside, rain still streaming down from the windows.

Bass watched her stare at him for a minute, like she wasn't sure she was going to answer his question before she started to talk again.

'Scandinavia, Scotland , Morocco, Africa, New Zealand...' There was a small absent smile on her lips when she met his eyes. 'Not necessarily in that order.'

She watched how Bass looked at the fire again, the deep lines next to his eyes curling when he smiled. God, he was a completely different man when he smiled. It was hard not to look right at him.

She forced herself to put her eyes back on the pages before her, and looked directly at a picture of a couple smiling happily, the water of the small canal behind them deep blue and sparkling from the sun.

And just like that, she felt greyness creeping over her. It started from a little corner in her mind before it was washing all over her. It was the old too familiar feeling of knowing that this world, this world in this small travel book was lost for good. It was a world that only existed in the stories from her father, in the stories from Aaron, in the marks that were around her every day, in references from the people around her that she never understood. A world that existed in her mind, only a handful of memories from long ago. She would never travel, she would never see more of the world. Followed by that voice in the back of her mind. Because of the actions of her mother. Lost because of her father. Her family.

Bass heard her sharp intake of breath beside him. He watched how Charlie jaws locked all of a sudden, how her eyes lost their clearness fast. She shook her head, her voice fragile when she spoke.

'It doesn't matter, not anymore.'

She closed the book, her eyes focussed on the fire. Pushing away the train of thought that was there, over and over again, the more she was understanding what actually happened, more pieces of the puzzle falling together the last year.

Bass felt the coldness spread through his chest. It was like the time that son of a bounty hunter had touched her. From that moment he just could not stand to see her hurt. It was irrational, he knew.

Charlie could feel how his arm closed the distance between them. His arm rested on the back of the couch behind her, but his hand closed around the back of her head lightly. He didn't move, he did not say anything.

Charlie felt tears filling her eyes, but she fought them back. She was not going to cry in front of him, she was not going to cry over something that could never be changed. But she did not pull away from his touch either.

A couple of days later

Charlie watched Bass, Miles and her mother disappear on the horizon. Three small figures on horses. Her grandfather and Aaron were standing behind her. When they had disappeared from her sight, she walked back into their safe house.

The days and especially the night she had shared with Bass in that small house already felt like years ago. And still, if she closed her eyes when she was alone for a moment, she could feel his touch, his lips on her skin and see the little lines wrinkle next to his eyes when he had smiled at her.

The rainstorm had died down in the afternoon, giving them the hours they needed on the road to get back to the rest of the group. They had not spoken much and when their safe house was close, they had put more distance between them, without truly giving it much thought. It was one of those moments where Charlie did something before she truly thought it. She grabbed him by his shirt, a surprised look in his eyes, stepped on her toes and pressed a long deep kiss on his lips. He simply put his hand on her lower back and pulled her closer before she broke the kiss, before they walked back into their normal routines.

Charlie knew his mind was elsewhere, from the moment they walked back into the safe house. And she did not blame him.

Charlie had found out he had a son the day they went to look for Aaron in the school. She had heard her uncle bickering with Bass since then, and she had decided to stay out of that discussion although she had many questions. A son. He had a son. Her mother told her they would be gone for at least a week, leaving their safe house strangely empty.

The practical side in her forced herself to get busy, to focus on her grandfather and Aaron. When she grabbed her bag to get another shirt out she felt something hard pressing in the palm of her hands. She reached deeper and when her hands touched something familiar she felt a warmness flooding through her body.

He didn't.

With one fast movement and a smile quickly forming around her lips she pulled the book out of her bag. She held it in her hands and looked directly at the cover of the Italian travel book.

Chapter Text

When Bass had left to find his son, she still needed time to adjust and get used to this new idea, it was like the energy around her had changed. Charlie didn't know how that happened, so fast, or why, but when she had seen him leave, without her, but with Miles and her mother, there was a part in her that wished she was with him out there on the road.

So, right now, it was just her, her grandfather and Aaron at their safe house. But when it was just her and her thoughts in the dark at night, as she laid down on a simple bed in a corner of one of the rooms with a grey bedspread wrapped around her middle, her mind drifted back to him.

His eyes piercing into hers, like he was drinking her in. His large hands on her breasts, over her nipples, his deep grunting, the intensity of her orgasm around his hardness. Her mouth exploring his skin, tasting him, his sweat, his spiciness that was so Bass. The way she had not been able to hold back, wanting to moan his name over and over, when his hand had disappeared between her legs. Her back resting on his hard chest. The way she had only wanted for him to thrust him deeper into her. The way Bass had looked at her when she eventually had let go and had moaned his name for the very first time. The way it had been only Bass and her.

The moment the flashes of memories washed over her, she could feel her body react. Wetness was pooling in her core, the aching feeling of wanting to touch herself sneaked up on her and cornered her.

It made her want to curse his name, for filling her thoughts, for waking up more want for him. It made her want to curse her body, for reacting so easy to the mere thought of him.

No.

She had hoped their passionate encounters in the kitchen and on the couch had stilled her hunger, a hunger she knew that had been there for a long time now, although she always had trouble admitting to it, but she never had thought it to be this strong. What the hell was wrong with her? There should have been hate and only hate for this man, loathing. But not this.

And then her mind went back to the travel book that she kept hidden back in her bag, deep under her clothing and other personal things. When she had heard Aaron walk in behind her, she had quickly let the book slide in her back. This was for her eyes only. This man had surprised her over and over again. His roughness, arrogance and ego could be beyond infuriating, but then he let her see something else when she least expected it, something else that reached her and grabbed her without any chance to shake it off.

It had been that part of him, she rarely saw, that made her want to save his life, together with owing him for savings hers once, when he almost died because of the lethal injection. She could not explain it to anyone. No one asked, not even Miles.

Closer to falling asleep, she was back on the ragged couch in front of the fire, Bass sitting next to her on the couch on that rainy afternoon. Rain outside, greyness around the little house. When she remembered how it was like to feel his hand gentle and steady cupped around the back of her head, at a moment greyness was not only outside but also creeping over and in her, she could feel her body relax, and she was asleep before she could continue the continuing battle in her mind. The battle between wanting and fight the man away from her she wanted so badly.

When she would wake up after a surprisingly deep night of sleep , she would find Aaron missing from their safe house, leaving behind just a little note on the small wooden table.

Somewhere in Mexico, a couple of days later

'Must be like looking into a mirror.'

It was Rachel's voice, an eerie way of soft but with a ice cold tone in her voice that dragged him away from his thoughts.

When Bass had met Connor, standing in the bar in front of him, it took him a moment to realise he was actually standing in front of his son. He had imagined what it would be like, and at the moment he did not expected it, their search for the kid without any success so far, his son had walked into the bar, and into his life. Changing things for good.

A grown but still young man had stood before him. Tall, dark curls, strong jaw lines, eyes that immediately reminded him of Emma. Eyes he once knew , and still did, so well, familiar and heart wrenching at the same time. When he had looked into his face, he had seen her, he had seen himself back in his son's features, he had heard himself in his voice, he had seen himself in the way the kid had walked into the room like this cockfighting ring of hell was his kingdom.

Connor had made it very clear he was not waiting for his dad to walk back into his life. And when one of his pals had come to get him, murmuring something in Spanish Bass did not understand, Bass had not followed him when Connor had walked away from him, not sure what the hell he could do, what he could give to his son. Miles had shoved him out of the bar, and they had left the little town behind them.

The day had come to an end, and Bass was sitting on a rock, elbows resting on his knees, lost in his own thoughts and staring into the flames of the fire in front of him. The clear dark night sky filled with starts above them. Miles sat at the other side of the fire on a wooden log, Rachel on the ground next to Miles.

He went over and over the conversation with his son, playing the scene over and over in his head. Feeling the sheer panic and hurt again when Connor had asked him about his mom.

The sound of the helicopter when taking off drumming in his ears, Emma motionless on the cold ground. His man had dragged him away from her, when he had fought them off with everything he had trough his horror and tears. She had collapsed into his arms, a single bullet flying into her and ending her life, he had felt life slipping away from her. Another thing that spread more darkness in him. Another thing on the list of things he would never be forgiven for.

When his home town disappeared from under him, the helicopter putting distance between him and the woman he once loved, the woman he kissed one more time before telling her the man she knew once was dead, there were only choking tears and rage left. And the knowledge he had a kid, somewhere out there, as a new lifeline to grab onto.

He had told Connor she was dead, his mouth dry and his gut contracting with nausea. He had to look away when Connor looked at him absolute shock. He had not told her he was responsible for her death.

Rachel had paused for a moment, staring at him with a look in her wide eyes, that was a deadly combination of a cold challenging hint of a dark smile and coldness.

'There is nothing that Miles could have done. He could have watched him Connor, or not watched him. Put him on mars, put him in a monastery. It doesn't matter who raised him. Connor was always going to turn out like this. Because he's your son, he's your blood.'

Rachel sat with her back towards Miles, close to him, her eyes and her words were like the stabs of a knife into his gut, over and over again. Bass swallowed hard, hurt and rage crashing together. He was not able to move, although he wanted to shut her up with all he had.

But then he reached the point where he had found himself so many times since he came back to Willoughby with Charlie. Rachel had him right where she had wanted him, with her hypocritical angelic face, lashing out at him, knowing damn well if he crossed a line with her, she might tell Miles about the one thing they never spoke about. So he took a sharp breath of air instead and swallowed the quickly building rage within him away.

So, by that logic, Charlie will end the world someday,' Bass stabbed back at her.

Fuck, he had wanted to stab Rachel back, but there was a hint of regret deep inside already, for mentioning her at this point.

'That's enough, from the both of you.'

It was Miles that intervened with a low but firm tone in his voice.

'Being a normal type of father, that was never in the cards for you. Why don't you leave it alone? You are only making things worse.'

But there was no way in hell Bass could do that. He had waited for this moment for so long now ,waited to finally meet his blood, his son, his family. He had to go back. He had to try. He waited for Miles and Rachel to fall asleep before he went back into town and found Connor sitting at a small table.

He did not know what to give his son, other than a promise of a republic he had lost not so long ago, so when he was surrounded by Connor's men, Connor dragging him back to meet the sorry son of a bitch excuse father figure Nunez, he let him.

A punch in his stomach when he watched how Nunez treated Connor like he was his own. Realising with a sharp sting of raw pain many years were lost, so many years he would never get back with his son. Another punch when he heard his son talking about how they were going to sell him to the highest bidder, Connor's eyes burning into his.

When Connor put him in a cold and filthy cell, he let him.

When Miles came to get him the hell out, he let Connor be the hero, damn well knowing Nunez would take it out on the kid if he escaped with Miles. So, he let Miles go, walked back into his cell, and let Connor be the one who put him back there.

When they hanged him, his hands cuffed above his body, in front of a cheering crowd, his own son whipping his back open, the whip crashing against the flesh of his back, leaving deep cuts until he almost passed out from the unbearable pain, he let him.

He had nothing else to give, so he let him.

The cuts on his back had been healing slowly, although their scars would forever remind him of finding his son. This time if were the four of them, his son not walking far in front of him, when they crossed the border. He had hardly spoken to Rachel and Miles, focussed on his son instead. Their first days were rocky, talking about the republic, about taking it all back, for him. Part of him wanted to do nothing more than that, part of him wasn't sure if he had promised too much. But it was all he had to offer.

It had been Connor that got them out eventually. Bass was not sure what changed his son's mind, he had not had the balls to ask him. Rachel had been able to find her way into the Nunez estate, and Connor ended up slipping her a key. When they had run into Nunez holding a knife against his kid's throat when they had tried to find a way out, he felt a cold panic and dread, knowing this psycho was able to slit his son's throat like it was nothing. But he had watched Connor fight, fight as hell, feeling pride swell up in his chest when he watched his cutting through the man around them. They had made it out.

When they almost reached the safe house, sweat on his forehead, dust on his boots, Bass was struck by the image of blonde waves falling around a stunning face with clear blue's in a dark kitchen, while he had been thrusting deep inside of her. She had been there in the back of his mind during the long hours on the road, her smart ass remarks echoing through his mind, pulled towards her by the way she never backed the hell down, threw things right in his face the way the were, always meeting him head on with an infuriating stubbornness.

He was not sure where the hell they stood, he tried to keep that raw and intense want for her back in that house, in that kitchen, in front of that fire, telling him it would never happen again, it could never happen again.

Slipping the book into her bag was an impulse, an impulse he did not regret however. Although he was not sure how Charlie felt about it. The way her eyes had burned with a clear brightness , her whole face changing in front of him when she talked about her travel plans, about what she had wanted for herself one day, he had wanted more of that for her. So he tried to leave a piece of that day, the day he sat beside her on a worn couch, everything outside the four walls of that house far away, behind with her.

The safe house was empty, he heard Miles saying they had cleared out. They scouted the area, looking for tracks to find her, the old man and Stay Puft. To be honest, he couldn't care less about those two men, he just wanted to know where Charlie was.

When he saw her face again, it was from a far. They were laying hidden low in tall grass, after they had stumbled upon what looked like another patriot camp. First they saw Gene, and Bass could not hold in a biting remark towards Rachel.

'We are gone a week and your father already switched sides again, Rachel?'

This time she had nothing to say to him, while she looked absolutely stunned.

Miles was still looking through his binoculars, when Bass heard a small sigh coming from his brother.

'Look.'

Bass watched how Miles gave Rachel the binoculars.

'Charlie,' it was a worried whisper with disbelieve coming from Rachel.

Bass had to turn his head, worry finding him fast. Damn, this woman just had to lean into danger every damn chance she got. He saw her too, he would recognize her everywhere. She looked tired, all energy drained from her, surrounded by those kaki sons of bitches. Fuck.

Chapter Text

The scent of leather jackets and whiskey

The first time Charlie heard Bass again, was when she heard his voice somewhere at the edge of her dream. Although she was not sure if he was really there or just in her dream. She was simply too exhausted to try and answer her own question before she dozed off again into a sleep filled with chaotic dreams. Her body felt numb, but her mind kept racing at full speed with images from the last couple of days, when she found herself constantly between being awake and asleep, to tired too feel the difference. She was not able to stop the storm of thoughts that washed over her.

She kept trying to track Aaron after he had packed his stuff and just left without even telling her. In her dream she found herself over and over again at the same spot near the small creek, looking for any tracks that could help her discover where he went. But Aaron knew her too well, so she had to give up eventually.

The Patriot quarantine camp she had discovered with her grandfather a day later. Feeling deep down that it would only mean trouble.

The Patriot quarantine camp, where she ended up taking care of the sick, while she had tried to get her grandfather the hell out. She had told him not to go after it, but she knew he was not able to stay away. Death so very close, flashes of the utterly sick people she knew from town, having to face Truman and the rest. More death. Exhaustion, headaches. Kaki surrounding her with no way out.

Seeing her mother sneaking into camp, like a surreal moment when she stood before her, realising that Miles and Bass would be near too.

Bass. Hint of clear blue's before they faded away and turned into images of more people dying around her, faster than they were able to help. Bodies, white sheets covering them. She felt how everything slipped through their fingers. A Lab made virus, kaki monsters that were trying to wipe their town and it's people from the face of the planet.

Dizziness, her body aching, watching how her grandfather collapsed, trying to restart his heart and breathing with her mother. Fear taking a firm hold of her of death taking one more person she loved. Truman with his scary smile plastered to its face haunting her, like he was everywhere at the same time.

It was the first time she had fainted. But she got back up, weak on her legs but not willing to give up.

Somebody who ran in the tent with the antidote, but beyond exhaustion at that point to truly notice him. Only realising there was a strange kind of recognition when she had watched the guy's face.

The camp had started to spin at that point, the last things she remembered before everything turned dark was the sound of a wagon rolling under her, her mother's worried voice near her, calling her name.

Charlie could still hear her voice echoing through her mind when she felt a familiar comforting hand on her arm. Her name was reaching her again, but this time it was the voice of a man, finally helping her break a way out of the claustrophobic dream.

The dream still lingered around her, but she knew that hand, she knew that voice. It felt safe. Miles. She realised she was not on the wagon anymore, and the darkness had been replaced by golden day light around her. She had trouble focussing, and watched little particles of dust floating in the room through the rays of sun coming from the small window behind her.

The first time Charlie saw Bass again, was when he stood behind Miles. He was casually leaning against the doorway, one hand on the hilt of his sword, halfway turned to her. It had only been a second, but when they locked eyes, his deep gaze on her, she felt something swirl inside.

And then Miles came into focus.

'Hey kid, you gave us one hell of a scare.'

He looked at her with his dark eyes.

'Grandpa?' Her voice was raspy. Her mouth dry.

'The idiot will be fine, don't you worry about him.' Miles helped her sit up and gave her some water to drink while he gave her a quick wink. 'You worry about yourself now, Charlie.'

When Charlie turned her eyes back to the doorway, she found the place where Bass just stood empty. She wished it hadn't.

One day earlier

'So, you want us to raid their bunker to pick up some meds that might not even be there? I have seen the plague sweep through in Mexico. I get it all right. I've seen it front the first row. And I'm not about to walk back into that because some whack job blonde tells me to.' Connor's eyes and voice were all fire.

Bass watched his son. This kid had one hell of temper, something he recognised too damn well. They had made their way back from the camp to the safe house. Rachel had found a way into the quarantine hell and had reached Gene and Charlie.

Stone cold worry went through Bass when Miles went through the note that Rachel had been able to get to them. Typhus, lab made typhus, designed to wipe out the whole god damn town. The old man sick as hell. But what really set Bass into a deep rage was the end of the note, seeing the worry on his brothers face when they found out Charlie had collapsed.

'Okey, Connor..' Bass watched Miles for a moment, before he focussed back on his son, and he really tried to get through to his kid.

'Sorry, it's not my problem.' Bass watched Connor's tantrum, and was busy losing his patience with the kid. There was no time for this, he wanted to get on the road as fucking fast as they could.

'I need a word with you, alone.' His voice was deep and filled with warning. He watched Connor stand his ground, challenge in his eyes.

'It's not a question.' He growled at him.

He walked with Connor into the other room, closing the room and leaving Miles at the other side of it.

'Look kid, we all got our sad stories, but you need to burry those deep and play ball.' Connor had his back turned to him. Bass had lowered his voice.

'And why is that?' More Fire in his dark eyes, fire and a sharp edge when he turned back towards Bass.

'I get it all right, I am with you. Rachel is a boatload of crazy,' Bass had to admit, his kid had great instincts about that bitch.

'But for some reason, Miles really loves her, and him we need to keep on our side. We need his help through all of this to get what we want, what you want.'

He finally saw he reached his son. Connor nodded at him.

In the end, his kid had trailed along. When they had discovered the bad cave where those kaki assholes apparently hid the antidotes , and found it empty, they had to go for plan B.

Meaning they snatched that Truman asshole who had sat on the front row when he was fake executed, from his little camp and have a little chat with him. The look on the son of a bitch' face when he realised he was still alive, was priceless.

The moment when Miles shoved some freshly squeezed Typhus in Truman's neck and hear him cry like a little girl, to help motivate him to corporate, was even fucking better.

Connor had walked Truman into his office with a gun nicely plastered to his head, and their plan had worked, although it had been a close call when Truman's bunch of kaki friends had discovered him. They had gotten out of town, with the needed antidote.

Charlie was never far from his thought and fuck he hoped they were on time. If those sons of bitches had dared to give her typhus, and something, anything would happen to her, he would tear the whole damn place apart with his bare hands.

When the hell of a day had been over, he watched Connor ride through the gate of the camp with the wagon from a distance with Miles.

Two bodies in the back were covered under white sheets that made his stomach fill with nausea for a moment. He hopped with Miles on the wagon at their rendezvous point.

When they were out of the woods, Rachel quickly pulled the sheets away. Bass' eyes were only fixed on Charlie. She looked pale, her eyes closed, but when he checked her chest quickly, he realised she was still breathing.

He knew he had no fucking business uttering his concern for the girl, so he tried to keep his eyes locked at a point in the distance during the whole ride back. But when Miles gently carried her out the wagon inside in his arms, he could not help to wish it had been him.

He hovered more around the room where Miles put her on a bed more than he should, he watched her sleep, watched her toss and turn, sweat on her skin, sweat on her forehead and blushed cheeks. It was one exercise in self-control of not throwing his arms around her. Relieve filling his whole chest when he heard from Miles she had not been infected, that it had been sheer exhaustion that made her collapse and that she would be fine.

He watched Miles sitting in front of his niece and his brother never said it, but man, he knew how much he cared about her.

He asked Miles something about their weapons, not that he really cared about that stuff right now, it was just an excuse to see her. And a rather pathetic one, he knew. He watched Charlie in the middle of a dream and Miles was gently trying to get her out of it. He leaned in the doorway to stall some time, to make sure she would be okay.

And when her eyes found him , when she was awake for a moment, he realised that nothing had changed. The pull between them was still there. When he heard Rachel walk in behind him, he had to tear himself away from her. He ignored her loathing looks. He didn't give a fuck right now. Charlie would be fine.

Charlie decided she was done with being in bed all day long, she was done with sleeping all day long, she was done with being inside and being smothered by her mother next to her bed.

She wanted to feel some fresh air on her face again. Her body still felt off just a little, but she knew there was no better thing to do for herself than get up and get her day started.

She took her weapons and walked outside, the sunlight kissing her skin, taking in a deep breath. Back to work, she ordered herself. She found a spot under a big tree, and started to clean the weapons she brought with her when she saw Connor out of the corner of her eyes.

He walked towards her and asked about her grandfather. When she turned around to grab a little cloth that had been drying at one of the branches she could feel his eyes on her ass. She decided to ignore the hell out of him and was actually amused when he started his cocky hero story about how intense it had been retrieving the antidotes from Truman's office. That he had guns pointed at him.

That's a normal Wednesday for us, hero boy.

She shook her head, gave him a pat on his shoulders before she moved on with her day. She could feel his stare when she walked away from him.

She had wanted to get some fresh air when the sun had set for the day, and a fresh but clear night had taken its place. Her grandfather was asleep, Connor was doing something somewhere and her mother and Miles were, well, very busy with not looking at other. Time for her to go.

Time alone was spare and every now and then she needed it. But something, or rather someone, made her change her mind. Blue eyes, leather jacket, rough scruff. She had seen him walk in the direction of the old shed that belonged to the abandoned farm they used as a safe house.

When she turned the corner of the shed, he was sitting there, back leaned against the wall, boots planted firmly in front of him, elbows on his knees, flask of something strong in his left hand.

'So, this is the point where I have to tell you that you can't be possibly old enough to be a dad?' She raised a mocking eyebrow at him.

'I see you are back to your old self, Charlotte,' his voice was low, but when he took another gulp from his flask, the small hint of a grin was not lost on her.

Bass was not sure why she was here, but damn, he could not help but look at her. He watched her close the distance between them, and it was not long before he felt her sitting right next to him against the wall. Almost close enough to feel her upper leg close to his. It made his mind go to a place where it should not go. Hell, he knew what happened back on the road with her a few weeks ago would never happen again. So he drank, and watched straight ahead.

He offered her his flask, which she took from him without words. It reminded him of the weeks they spent together on the road to Willoughby. It had been all cold looks from her, biting words, but every now and then she had seemed to relax. They had sat in front of a fire. Said nothing or shared some stories. He had seen a completely different Charlie. Of course, when it was sunrise again, it had been going back to their old routine of her barely tolerating him.

'You have a kid,' Her voice was surprisingly serious, and it lacked her usual mocking for him.

'I have a kid,' He paused for a moment, tension appearing in his face, 'and as far as your mother is concerned, he is just like me.'

There was a bitter and dark tone in his voice when he raised his hand with the flask in a mocking toasting gesture. 'Here's to that.'

Charlie had to suppress a frustrated sigh. She knew damn well Bass had did some pretty unforgivable things to her mother, but there was something about hearing Bass, hearing the pain in his voice when he spoke those words that made her irritated beyond everything.

'Don't do that. You know it's crap. His strong suits are not all hers, and his flaws are not all yours. It doesn't work that way.'

Bass heard her words and had a difficult time swallowing all of a sudden. His jaws locked to kick out what the hell it was Charlie broke loose in him with those words. What was it with her that made her crawl under his skin every damn time. Emma. Somehow she knew Connor was hers.

He honestly did not what to tell her, her words way too much for what he deserved from her.

'Although his cocky ego, well, that's all you.' She added with a challenging smile. She bumped her shoulder into his with a playful force.

'Watch it Charlie,' He grunted.

Charlie did not know why, but there was something in his eyes, that had looked so broken although he tried to hide it from her, that made her sit with him a little while longer.

Sit with him under the stars, the cold night air around them. Time passed, and it was whiskey, crickets and them. Like it had been the small house, rain and a fire inside, and them not so long ago.

Charlie did not know who made the first move, she honestly did not. But when his face was close all of a sudden, close enough for her to take in the intoxicating smell of the whiskey on his breath it did happen.

Bass did not know if she moved first, or that he had, but he did not give a fuck. He looked into her blue eyes, piercing through the night in his, when he reached for her chin in his hand, tilted her head back and he brushed her lips with his. He had waited for her to pull back but it did not happen. Instead, he found one of her hands going over his arm.

With his other hand he put away the flask on the ground next to him before he went through her hair. He could feel Charlie how opened her mouth and started to breathe faster, and their tongues met. Hot, warm, exploring each other like they did the very first time. Their tongues made slow circles around each other before they both exploded and they crashed into each other.

Bass had to let out a deep grunt when he could taste her and when he heard her soft moans against his mouth.

Charlie's hands moved from his neck to his chest, going over the defined muscles. She grabbed his shirt to have something to hold onto. She was not sure she would ever get enough of feeling his hard body against her hands. She slipped one hand under his shirt. Finding little hairs just above the waistband of his jeans before she reached back up and let her hand explore where it wanted to go.

Their kiss intensified, both of them struggling with being quiet. Bass felt how he slowly lost control and he put his arms around her and pulled Charlie over into his lap. Hell, she fitted perfectly in against and close to him. He put one hand over and then under both of her knees, readjusting her in his arms so he could reach the curves of her breasts.

Charlie let out a moan when she felt how hard he was under her. Moaned again when her body seemed to remember all the things Bass did to her in that kitchen, on that couch.

Bass only thought was about fucking her against the wall of the shed but there was no way in hell he could take that risk tonight, not if he wanted a very pissed Miles walking into them. So he kissed her, he pulled her impossibly close. He let his hand slide under her tank top and got her bra out of the way with more force than he had intended, so he paused for a moment to make sure she was okay. But she seemed to moan only more by that sensation. He wrapped his hand around her breast and felt the weight of it in his hands.

Although he told himself he wouldn't, one of his hand started to reach down, teasing her through her pants.

Charlie had to close her eyes when she felt his hand going for that perfect spot between her legs, only the fabric of her pants between his hand and her skin. The thought drove her wild while she leaned back into his strong arms and felt the leather from his jacket rub against her cheek.

The scent of leather combined with whiskey would forever be Bass.

Her hips moved on their own and she started to buckle up against his hand. She knew they could not go any further, if Miles or anyone else would find them in this position, Bass would be very dead, or at least would miss some very vital body parts that she actually had started to appreciate.

So, right before they both felt there was no turning back, he slowed down the kiss. Planted a kiss in her neck. Let one of his hands go over her ass and grabbed it for a moment. He removed a lock of hair out of her face. Charlie still held on to him, his leather jacket firmly in her fist.

'Damn it,' he growled all of a sudden. 'I have second watch.' One more hungry kiss on her lips. Her hand going over the scruff of his beard.

He slowly lifted her away from her lap with a ton of regret. When they both had gotten up, they were standing close for just a couple of seconds, his body close enough so Charlie could feel his hardness against hers. His hand at the back of her neck, his lips brushing hers.

'Keep thinking what the hell you were thinking,' His voice growling in her ear the way only Bass could, right before he turned around.

Charlie watched Bass walk back to their safe house. His hand went through his hair. Damn, she thought, So yeah, there was a good possibility that something might happen again between them after all. Her lips were swollen and she could taste the whiskey on her lips.

Bass almost reached the safe house when he took breaths to make sure the aching sensation of his hard cock against the inside of his pants would disappear like right now. When he almost reached Miles, there was only one thing on his mind that caused him to grin. Hell, this girl was trouble. But it was exactly the trouble he liked to be in.

Chapter Text

Keep thinking what the hell you were thinking.

His every word shocking through her system, his low voice, borderline smug, and the scent of whiskey and his leather jacket were still lingering around her. On her skin and inside of her head.

Charlie sat back down against the wall of the shed after Bass had disappeared from her sight. She took in a deep breath and wondered how the hell that had happened. Yet again.

There was still anger running through her, although it had been gradually changing from the moment she had to face him on a daily basis and spent weeks and weeks with him on the road. More than enough loathing too, and irritation about his utter arrogance at times, if not most of the time, but there was also more of that damn pull she felt every time he was remotely near. There was also the fact that they could fight alongside each other, after spending only so little time together.

And when she thought about it, about their weird pull towards each other, she had seen it in his eyes too from a very long time, maybe even from the very beginning. She had only seen it now, when she looked back. Sometimes things were so in front of you, and so out of what you thought was possible, that it was hard to notice, Charlie thought.

It was not what she had expected, this man, Bass. It was wrong on many levels, she almost hated herself for these feelings, but it was a raw kind of good, a raw kind of attraction she was not able to fight. She fought the better part of her life. For the people she loved, for the things she believed in, for the things she lost, and for simply not knowing what else to do, who else to be.

When she was around Monroe, Bass, the way she would refer to him in her head changing during the day, something happened. Something she did not understand. Something that tore her inside, but also something that felt so incredibly good. That made every fibre in her body respond. And because she simply did not know how to do things whole heartedly she could not ignore those feelings.

She should just walk away, but here was the thing. She couldn't. She didn't want to. It was a twisted, weird and unexpected truth, but it was the truth nevertheless.

Without even noticing, being with Bass, was like a world away from all the mess, and although Charlie was sure it would not last long, before everything broke down again, like it always did, whatever that everything might be, she could not resist.

She let her head rest against the wall behind her. Closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to him. Yes, she had been with other man before, she enjoyed those moments where she had felt in charge, where she drowned herself in something simply to forget everything else. It had always been hasty, brief, often anonymous, although with Jason it had been none of those things.

And yet, it was still not the same as how she felt with Bass. He unleashed a hunger in her, and he was the only one that could satisfy that hunger. He did things to her body she never ever experienced, that she never thought would be possible. It was new, it was overwhelming, but she always felt like she could let go with him.

He unleashed something inside of her that could not be tamed.

So her mind drifted back to him. His deep kisses, his warm whiskey breath on her, the way he seemed to be everywhere, tall, strong, all muscles, all hard body. The fight in her between what she should do, how it should be, keeping her distance from him for a lot of very good reasons and what she wanted kept her in its grip every day.

It was exhausting, it was breathtaking, it was infuriating.

And then there was that desire that filled her mind, so strong, that it set her skin on fire in the cold nightly air.

Bass behind her, her chest shoved against her back when he pressed her against the wall behind her, taking her, rough, fast. No words, only thrusts and heavy breathing in her ear.

The sheer aching in her core when she could almost feel him behind her, made her stop breathing for a moment when all that remained was more thirst for this man. She had to actively stop herself from wanting to slide a hand between her legs, when she cursed his name in her head, yet again.

'Earth to Charlie,' it was Miles' voice that yanked her out of her thoughts.

There had been no space for any kind of activities against any kind off wall. She had hardly exchanged five words with Bass the past few days. Their days filled with their normal routines. Connor who always seemed around. Miles and Bass together, deep in conversation., without doubt making new plans.

So she kept herself busy, went hunting, tried to ignore Connor's flirting although he really did not turn out so bad as she thought. Behind the ego she actually saw his insecurity at times and she remembered how she felt when she got tossed in this mess not too long ago.

It was another day with bright sunlight, and she looked into the amusing eyes of her uncle, standing to her right. Miles had wanted to train with her, and because they had not done that in a long while, and she really enjoyed it when it was her and Miles like days long ago, she had gladly accepted his offer.

With one of his hands of the hilt of his sword, Miles looked at his niece. She had been worlds away, something he was not used too from his down to earth niece. He wondered if Monroe's kid might be the cause of her impressive dream stare. He noticed Connor was acting like a moron around her. He sighed, remembering the headache, nipples, the Neville kid, had given him.

In his hand he held an extra sword for her.

'You are going to make this to easy for me this way, kid,' He smiled at her when Charlie gave him another impressive not so dreamy stare when she took the sword out of his hands.

'Shut up Miles.' She casually tossed her leather jacket on the ground.

Miles was pleased to see his niece was still fast on her feet, she had gotten stronger, faster and he could not help but feel pride when he watched her. He remembered the first time, when he had started to train her. She did not know anything about sword fighting, although she always had one hell of set of instincts, a good aim, a deadly talent with a crossbow, and her stubbornness and her strong will helped her to pick up things fast. Knowing she could protect herself when all hell broke loose, was important to him.

Bass growled at the sunlight when he walked out of the safe house. It had been another one hell of a night.

Last night had been another night of whiskey , and the memory of Charlie in his arms, the weight of her breasts in his hand, his leather jacket wrapped up in hers. Last night had been another night of a whole lot of not thinking of taking her against the wall of the shed , his aching cock against his jeans had kept him company at the thought of her.

Damn, so she was ready for another round. He had never expected her to be. Hell, he had never expected for her to end up in his lap, her body willing, her eyes challenging.

But most of all, her words about the best and worst in Connor had touched him, had cut right through him. He had been so very fucking wrong, when he had thrown in her face in that abandoned swimming pool that she had been a hell of a lot like Rachel.

She wasn't.

What the hell was it with this woman? Why was no not even a possibility when she was around. Damn, he used to run a republic, but this fierce girl seemed to run him at times.

There always seemed somebody around these days, so sneaking of and giving himself a very useful and very fucking much needed hand, if he could not have her right now, was not an option. Frustration because there was nothing he could do, knowing she was so damn close and that she was willing to be with him again, had turned into another night of blue ball hell.

He sat down next to his son, biting off a piece from the apple that was his breakfast. He watched Connor when his kid's eyes were somewhere he really fucking wished they were not. On Charlie's ass. He ripped another piece of the apple between his teeth, this time with more force, when all he wanted to do was rip his son apart from what the hell the kid thought he was doing.

He had seen it happen before, he had seen his kid try to impress Charlie. He had seen it and watched Charlie when she laughed at him, padding Connor on his shoulder and walk away. He hated to admit it, but a sharp sting of jealousy went through his gut. Charlie did not seem interested, but man, he really wished his son would leave her the hell alone. The quick contact Charlie made with her hand on Connor's shoulder had played in his head too many times.

'That girl has some great curves,' Connor admitted, when he tore his eyes away from Charlie and faced his dad. When Connor first saw Charlie, he was quite taken with her. Great body, smart mouth, and very skilled at a lot of things. He liked her. He could not stop wanting to be around her. 'What's her story?'

Bass had to control himself with anything he had not to punch him in the face on the spot, when Connor was practically drooling over her.

'Don't you talk about her that way. That's Miles' niece. Told you we need him. So watch your mouth.' It was a deep growl, a sharp warning in his voice.

Connor shrugged, before he got up and decided he did not need this from his dad. Before he walked away he watched his dad for a moment, his father's eyes back on the young woman, before he watched Charlie again. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked off.

Bass threw what was left of the apple away , with his lips pressed against each other, tension running through his body.

He watched Charlie, her movements precise, flowing, training with his brother. Hell, he could not get enough of her. His arms were resting on his knees while he followed her with his eyes. She could stand on her own, Miles had taught her well. He had noticed it before, and damn it, he would lie if it was not one hell of a turn on.

Miles expected her to take a left, going for the defence when Charlie did exactly the opposite, taking him of guard for just one second, maybe even less, but nevertheless, she surprised the hell out of him. She moved fast, and he immediately recognised that move as one of Bass his tactics.

His reply to her move was fast and when her sword was on the ground next to her, Charlie watched how Miles' face went to a kind of interesting purple in front of her.

'What in the hell,' he yelled, ' did that prick taught you how to do that?!'

Charlie tilted her head back and laughed at her very pissed of uncle.

'He didn't. But I did pay attention.' She said, delighted with his reaction, a grin on her face, when she firmly planted her hands on her hips.

Bass had seen her make the move he recognised as one of his own. So, this girl that had been barely tolerating him on their way back from Vegas, had indeed been paying attention. He felt a grin spreading across his face fast, when he saw how Miles watched Charlie with disbelieve.

Then Miles watched him.

'You think this is funny?' he barked at Bass, still very much not amused about the way Charlie had used of one Bass his moves against him.

Bass saw Charlie standing across from Miles, bright eyed, hands on those amazing hips, while she watched Miles in amusement, one eyebrow raised, a smile on her stunning lips.

'You ask me if I think it is funny that you are getting your ass kicked by Charlie?'

He paused, a smirk around his lips.

'Hell yeah.'

Charlie watched both of the men. For a moment she thought Miles would go for it and storm to Bass but he seemed to change his mind. He shook his head and laughed. She was stunned. Her moody uncle actually laughed. In front of Bass.

And for the first time since she had brought Bass back, her uncle and Bass shared an almost boyish grin on both of their faces. She could not help but smile with them.

That was until a very pissed of Rachel stood behind Bass, daggers in her eyes when she watched him, watched Charlie and fixed her eyes on Miles.

'Miles, can I speak with you?' Her tone ever so soft, but with a cold edge in it.

'Guess the fun is over,' Bass grunted under his breath, watching the smile fade away from Charlie's eyes.

Charlie had not been able to sleep. This time not because of a nightmare or because she was cold or sore from a day full of endless walking or fighting, but because of the man who was really busy pretending to be asleep not far away from her. Charlie bit her lip. Everybody else seemed fast asleep. Connor turned in his sleep for a moment when she slid away from her bedroll and into the night air. Being able to move around without a sound did was only an advantage when it came done to hunting. She almost giggled at that thought.

When she heard the sound of boots behind her when she reached the shed, she was not surprised. Her heart started to race in her chest when she felt his breath against the skin of her neck.

'Couldn't sleep?'

Charlie nodded her head at him, still without facing him.

She felt how he placed his hands on her upper arms.

'Hell, have been thinking about you,' his voice was almost too low to register. There was nothing dreamy in his words, it was just a simple statement with a determination that already made her breathing heavier.

And in that moment she knew for sure she wanted nothing less than him.

Chapter Text

Bass had not been able to sleep, simply because he knew Charlie was not asleep either. They had spent enough time on the road together for him to know that much. It had started as a bitter need for making sure she would not kill him off in his damn sleep. But being aware of her became an habit. It had started as one thing, but had gradually become a whole other.

He was pretty damn sure she had stopped the attempts on his life, but with this woman, you just never knew for sure. And why the hell made that realisation want him to want her even more?

And now she was standing so close in front of him, her back towards his chest, that he could take in the scent that was so very much Charlie.

When he had told her he had been thinking about her, the tone he used making damn sure in what way, he felt how Charlie tensed up for a moment and let out a soft sigh, almost a moan, that told him she had done the same.

He had guessed it, many times before now, but to know he had been right, fuck, it was hot as hell.

'Tell me what you want, Charlotte,' he kept his voice down, breaking the silence in the shed again.

He damn well knew what he wanted, but he wanted to see what she would do.

Bass wanted to bite her neck but instead he turned her around to face him.

Charlie felt her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, but forced herself to tilt her head back and look him right in the eyes. She never backed out of anything when it came to all things Sebastian Monroe. When she had walked outside, part of her knew he would follow. That feeling was enough to make her pulse with anticipation all on its own.

Bass watched how her eyes answered his question when they flickered to the wall behind him and the blush on her face told her exactly what she wanted.

He lifted her hair of over shoulder, exposing smooth skin, and slowly reached for her neck with his mouth. Charlie wished she could stop herself, she did not wanted to give him the pleasure of showing what he could do to her so soon, but a soft moan escaped from the back of her throat when his wet lips found sensitive skin.

She wanted to reach for him but all of a sudden he turned her around and moved her towards the wall in one strong movement. They way he picked her up like she was weighing nothing, was again a reminder how easily he could have hurt her when she tracked him down and tried to kill him before. A reminder that how much she had challenged him, again and again, with the sole purpose of wanting a reaction of destruction to match her desperate need to forget, to fight her way away from those moments in time she wanted to forget, he never did. He never hurt her.

Her boots on the soft ground of the shed, her hands landed against the stones before her and his strong arms wrapped himself around her waist and breasts.

Bass had thought extensively about what the hell it would be like to have her between his chest and that damn wall, but man, nothing had prepared him for this.

He knew they were taking a risk, he knew but he did not give a damn right now. He needed her, needed to slam into her, to hold her, to hold on to her, to get lost in her.

He needed to hear how his name would sound from her lips. Not the loathing or mocking Monroe, but Bass. Somehow he always seemed to be Bass to her when it was skin to skin, breath against breath.

It made him forget all the General and President bullshit from the past, all the things he had done, the things that were lost somewhere in the chaos of darkness, just for one moment. With her he was Bass.

Fuck, his name sounded so damn good coming from her. It was too damn addictive.

So, he shoved the thought about that risk out, and pulled her soft body close to his.

Charlie was not so sure she could breathe anymore. She felt the cold of the wall against the palms of her hands and radiating towards her, but the warmth and the hardness of his body pressed to her body behind her. Bass tall body, his broad chest and his strong defined arms gave her the feeling there was no other world than him.

She felt his hardness pressed against her and arched back towards him, grinding against his cock. It earned her a low growl in her ear that made something spasm in her core already.

It was the first time he took her almost fully dressed. The luxury of time like they had before was simply not there this night.

His hands disappeared under her jacket and tank top to caress her breasts, to play with her hard nipples while he felt how Charlie reached back and rubbed his cock through his pants. Her longing moans told him exactly what she craved.

'Hands against the wall,' it was a hoarse whisper in her ear.

Her first instinct was to tell him to go to hell, it would not be the first time, although those were under different circumstances which did not involve a very hard Monroe pressed against her body when he was about to take, but her treacherous want for him did what he asked of her.

Charlie felt how he opened the button of her pants, and how his hand, rough skin, slipped inside. Bass felt a tug towards his balls when he felt how wet she already was under his fingers. Her soaked panties against the other side of his hand.

He played with her clit, held on to her with his other arm, while Charlie braced herself against the wall when the wave of pleasure hit her.

When Bass noticed how she pushed herself into his groin he could not wait anymore. He let her pants glide over her legs.

Charlie's mind was racing, craving him, not sure how to tell him what she craved tonight. Her pride, and her stubbornness, prevented her from actually saying it to him Because what she craved this night was roughness, to let herself melt into his strength, she craved for him to overpower her when she felt and heard how he was opening his belt behind her.

That sound, that moment, the sheer raw feeling of anticipation before he would thrust inside of her, would play through her mind , even months from now, at nights when he would not be around, when her hand found its way home to her warm core, and she would come every time with a force that made her explode around her own fingers.

One sound.

One man.

She tilted her head back and crashed her mouth on his. Right before that she caught a glimpse of his eyes, of his face, and the lust she found there made her hand reach for his curls and Charlie yanked him towards her. She bit his under lip while their tongues were caught in a battle of their own.

She was not sure any more if she was fighting him or that she deeply, desperately wanted him. Maybe it was both right now.

It made his cock twitch against her ass.

The look in Charlie's eyes, the red blush on her cheeks and the almost shy look in her eyes for a second , followed by the absolute ferocity that exploded from within her right after, told Bass what she wanted.

She did not have to ask. He would give it to her.

He placed his hands on the exposed skin of her hips and with one thrust, with one deep grunt, he took her, he filled her. It took Charlie everything not to let out a deep scream with sheer lust and the utter amazement at how he had been able to read her.

Bass waited, while he felt how her walls tightened around him. He pulled back and he let his dick disappear into her again, this time removing one of his hands and placing it on the place between her shoulder and neck. Charlie had to brace herself again against the wall. His fingers dug deep into her skin.

They both knew this time was going to be different than the times they had been with each other in the house. It was fast, it was filled with an aching craving for each other, with an intensity that belonged to them.

With every thrust she had to remind herself to stand up straight, her knees almost giving up on her with pleasure. They found a pace that left them both out of breath fast, and when she thought she was not able to stand up straight anymore she felt his arms all around her, holding her, keeping her steady, while he slammed into her.

She fought back a deep moan when she felt how her orgasm started to hit her. He was hitting that one spot inside of her, that gave her a new pulse of sheer goodness, that made her have to let go and made her have to let go off the wall and held on to anything that was Bass. He did not stop her when she moved her hands.

His name emerged from the back of her throat without even having to think about it.

Bass.

Bass felt how she tensed up against him and around his cock and slammed into her one more time , wrapping herself around her, her hands clinging onto him, until it was them, away from the wall, her weight and body in his arms. Until she collapsed against his chest, tilting her head back, her body slamming into him this time in waves.

There it was.

Bass.

His name exploding from Charlie coming undone in his arms, drove him over the edge.

She knew he had been with his share of woman, but the idea she broke this lose within him, gave her a rush that made her dizzy. She was not in the shed anymore, she was with him.

When he realised how damn wet she was around his cock and his balls, he cursed himself for wanting to come deep inside of her. Instead, his face disappeared into her hair, and when he pulled out, with all that was left of his self control, he came all over her soft thighs, her fingernails digging into the leather of his jacket, both of them wrapped against each other.

Charlie felt his weight landing on hers, and the only thing they could do was leaning against the wall together, with Bass strong arms tight to her body, shielding her from the wall and let her collapse into his hold, his breathing into her ear and the scruff of his beard against her cheek.

'Was that what you wanted Charlotte?' his words hoarse, his breath warm against her neck.

'It was more Bass,' her voice low and her words said with such openness, that he was fucking thankful for the support of the brick wall before them, when the only thing he could do was feel her lips against the scruff of his beard.

Charlie watched how her mother tried to protest. Behind her Monroe and hero boy were busy with their final preparations for their road trip. Little did they know she would join him in a bit.

The look of Bass his face when he would realise this was not just a father son road trip was already causing her to grin from ear to ear.

Miles had asked her to join both man on their trip to Vegas, where Monroe knew some kind of war lord who could help them out with the issue of needing more men in their fight against the patriots.

' You know, because the six of us against a whole army of patriot morons is not exactly ideal,' was her uncle's simple explanation.

'And well, somebody need to watch the Monroe's , make sure they actually comeback and not restart their kingdom again. Gene can't leave, Rachel wants to stay around and somebody needs to watch the patriots.'

'And my mom,' she added, frowning at Miles with a challenging smile around her lips.

'What?' She noticed how Miles tried to act casual, but he could not hide the shock from her words. Charlie turned away from him, without answering him to face her mom.

She was glad to put some distance between whatever it was that was going on between her mother and Miles, and any distance between her and her mom seemed always to do their relationship good.

A deep pulse in her core told her that some more time with Bass probably was not the worst.

But Charlie took Miles his words serious.

Yes, Bass, seemed different. He had been serious when he had told her they were all on the same side now right after Portsboro. He saved her life. Multiple times. She saved his. And damn, their encounter against that wall still left her with a good kind of sore. And how she hated herself for it, she knew it would probably not the last time.

She remembered the moment of comfort when his hand found the back of her head in that house on that rainy afternoon in front of the fire. Up until that moment she had forgotten what it was like to experience that, to have somebody sit with you in silence, when you felt like the greyness were swallowing you alive. The travelling book was still tucked somewhere deep in her bag.

But this was also Sebastian Monroe. The Sebastian Monroe. He was fighting with them, and she saw different sides of him, he seemed to treat her differently than everyone else, but the dark was still there. She was not naive. Whatever different side she saw of him, he also knew that things were still the way they were. She knew what he promised Connor in Mexico. She had heard them talking alone the past few days.

She knew her heart, she knew her mind.

She knew she would not follow him back on any path of darkness and destruction.

Charlie watched her mother's face when everything in that expression told her she clearly did not agree. Before Rachel could open her mouth Charlie opened hers.

'I am going, it's not a debate,' and with that she turned around. Sunlight in her hair, clear blue eyes facing forwards for what would be next.

She watched how team Monroe was all ready to go.

She threw her stuff in the back of the wagon and when she climbed in herself, both Connor and Bass, who had the reigns in his hand, turned her way but her eyes did not meet Bass'.

'Who says you are invited?' his tone challenging and low, but the rest of his face told another story. It was subtle, probably only visible to her, but there was actual amusement in his face.

'Who says it is up to you?' She threw back in his face.

When she made herself comfortable, her back facing Bass' back when he sat the wagon in motion, she smiled at her mother and Miles who were disappearing in the distance.

Whatever was happening between her and Bass, it was messy, she knew that, she knew it from the start. But the world around her was a dark mess too, it was hard, and fast and she did not even know if any of them would be here alive for another sunset. So, all the emotions that were swirling around in her mind and heart, just added to that mess. But this was her mess, her puzzle to figure out. And those moments with him, the pull between them, felt good. It shouldn't be. It couldn't be. But it did. So, here she was. Here he was.

She heard Bass mumble something to Connor behind her about stubbornness followed by a short don't ask with a deep sigh.

Chapter Text

They had covered a lot of ground today. Right before sunset Charlie had set out to go hunting, her crossbow close to her back, while Connor's eyes followed her into the line of trees.

Bass let out a sigh of frustration through his teeth at the sight of his kid's eyes wandering off, again. He lead the horses away from the wagon so they could rest for the night.

With the exception of Connor ideas about Charlie, ideas he wanted to smack right out of his kids head, although he realised that would be one hell of a case of bad parenting, this trip turned out to be a breather he needed from Rachel and her entourage. From their constant nagging, from her condescending remarks about Connor.

The three of them had found a rhythm on the road.

When Charlie had thrown her stuff in the back of the wagon behind him, right before he had wanted to put the wagon in motion, there was a part of him that couldn't believe Miles had sent her as a god damn babysitter. He had some serious thinking and strategizing to do with his kid. And he had planned to do that without any Matheson around.

Who says it is up to you? Her words an echo in his mind.

The complete fearless right in his face without any reservations attitude from her, when she had thrown another question back in his face as an answer to his own, made his body react in a very physical way.

When they were on the road he realised two things. One. Charlie wanted to go with them, with him. For the simple reason that her stubbornness prevented this woman from doing anything she did not wanted to do . And second, Miles trusted him enough to let Charlie come on their road trip.

Somehow his brother had figured out his niece was safe with him. Because damn it, she was.

They had made camp at a small clearing, away from the road. The sun had set hours ago, and the pink and orange sky had transferred into a dark sky filled with stars.

Charlie was sitting not far away from him, her arms resting on her knees, the glow of the fire golden on her skin. Although he was on first watch, Charlie had not gone to sleep. Connor however was asleep at the other side of the fire.

He watched his kid for a moment. Dark curls, strong jaw line.

Bass still had to get used to the fact that when he looked at Connor, it was like looking in a god damn mirror. But it was also Emma who haunted him in the features of his kid. The truth about her death was still hiding in the dark between Connor and him and he damn well knew that it would not hide there forever. The memories of that one bullet crashing into her. The deafening sound. The body of a woman he once loved collapsing into his arms, for the last moments of her life, in the middle a town that was once his home, seemed to work their way towards him whenever he managed to get some sleep these days. Since Connor was a daily part of his life, the nightmares had come back at full force. He could still her face when he felt the shock of her telling him that somewhere out there, he had a son. His family.

'What do you miss the most, you know, from back then?'

Bass had been lost in his own dark thoughts, lost in the dance of the flames of the fire, when her voice broke the silence.

Every now and then, she looked at him with an openness that he remembered from a much younger Charlie, from many years ago. From before the whole world went to hell. She had changed so fucking much, she seemed to change every damn time he met her again. But that clear look, those eyes that did not seem to miss a thing, had managed to stay the same, to survive.

After a couple of weeks on the road together, weeks still to go before they would reach Willoughby, these nightly moments had been there.

Somehow the night could change everything, and in the dark silence he had seen more than loathing and disgust in her eyes when she sat in front of him at the fire.

They had talked about Miles, about their memories from a time and world lifetimes away. It usually started with a fire, a bottle of booze and some mocking insults, but somehow that had turned into something else. They never seemed to last long, before he could see how she pulled her wall back around her, and shut him out again. But man, he enjoyed those talks with her. He had no idea if she actually remembered him. She must have been what, five, six years old when he saw her for the last time? He had to admit, he was curious if she did remember him, but he also knew it was like entering a field of landmines, if he would go there. So he kept his mouth shut and let her come to him.

He looked up at her.

'Music and a cold beer on a Saturday night.'

He was not sure from this angle, but he saw the faintest of smiles appearing around her mouth.

'How about you, Charlotte?'

Charlie looked at him, and her eyes found his. The lines in his face were not as harsh as they could be. And although his voice was low, there was something about him this night that made her withhold any kind of mockery towards him.

'I miss falling asleep, knowing you can actually sleep. I know it was there, before. I know there was a world when I could actually fall asleep feeling...'

Charlie paused for a moment when she tried to find the right word, remembering something that she thought must have been her old room back at a home she barely remembered.

'...feeling sheltered. I miss falling asleep without being on edge. Knowing that at any given time all things can spin out of control again.'

Bass wondered how the hell this girl could put a knife in his gut with her words. She had talked with such a calmness about this, the way only Charlie could. It was like she was observing herself and the world around her, instead of actually being a part of it.

Charlie jerked her head back to the fire and cursed herself in silence. How the hell did this man do this? How did she unveil something that belonged to her, that was hidden somewhere in her for nobody to see? How on earth did Sebastian Monroe, off all men, made her feel that there was room for her to be?

Why on earth did she feel he understood her better than anyone at times and why did she get the feeling all of a sudden he had been there too, just like Miles had been, all those years ago in a completely different world?

She expected him to laugh at her, to make some kind of remark of this vulnerability she had shown. To mock here and treat her like a damn child.

He didn't.

Bass acted on an impulse. Hell, controlling his impulses was never his thing. But he moved forward and crouched down behind her. Charlie's slender body fitted too damn good between his knees. He reached out his hand and put a lock of hair behind her ear.

'Get some sleep Charlotte. No one is going to touch you, tonight. No one.'

He felt how Charlie tensed up before him, and for one moment he wondered what the hell he had been thinking. He had just crossed some kind of line with her. They both knew it. But the words were out in the open.

Bass expected to find a coldness in her eyes when she would pin her eyes at him, he expected her to push him away with biting words. But instead he felt how she relaxed and her body moved closer to his. He saw how she tilted her head back. He moved his hand from her hair to her jaw and gently moved his fingers along her skin until he held her chin in his hand.

Neither of them moved. His touch had been a different one than the other night, it was light, it was not the first move to something heated. It felt different and the tingle on her skin from his rough skin was something she revelled in.

For one moment Charlie thought he would close the distance between them even more, but with one gentle movement he let go of her chin and sat back down behind her.

So she let herself glide into her sleeping bag. The warmth of the fire before her reached her body, touched her face. She felt Bass close behind her without him actually touching her. Her eyes felt heavy, and her last thought before falling into a deep sleep was the realisation that she actually felt safe enough to sleep close to him. Somehow, on this cold and clear night, somewhere between Willoughby and Vegas, Sebastian Monroe had made her feel the closest to safe she had felt in a long time. Secure. Shielded.

Vegas

Bass snapped his fingers at Gould. If he would look at Charlie one more second the way Gould did, the greasy son of a bitch, he would snap his god damn neck. He used to rule a damn Republic, now he was busy talking to this weasel.

The past few days had been uneventful. The days had filled themselves with long hours on dusty roads. He enjoyed having Connor around. The kid seemed to open up a little bit more. It also meant there was less time for him and Charlie. Fuck, he wanted her. She was so damn close but there just did not seem any time or place for them to be together. And by some of the looks she threw him, he just knew it was on her mind too.

He knew that in Vegas, there would be no time and no place to focus on anything else than what they came here for. Vegas was an unforgiving place, and he knew he could not afford any mistake.

When they had walked into Vegas, Charlie walked close to his side. The girl who had made it her goal in life to put as much distance between them from the start, had actually walked beside him, close enough for the leather of both their jackets to touch. They had walked through the small main street, that was meandering its way through the camps.

And now, Bass pinned Gould down with his eyes, he was losing his patience fast. Rage started to build up from his core.

He quickly glanced back at Charlie and noticed how Charlie was given Gould an impressive are you serious Matheson stare. Hell, she reminded him so much of Miles. And hell, it made him want to drag her outside and let his hands glide under her tank. For starters.

He had felt Connor's eyes on him when Gould had welcomed him back to his crap hole casino with a loud 'Jimmy King.'

Jimmy King.

It had been the man he had become after the Tower. The man who had dragged himself through the days and nights, feeling half dead, ripped apart with guilt, hoping that every fight would be the one that would kick him into complete darkness. Days of booze, another woman, another whore wanting to work her way into his bed every night, another fight, his body numb, his mind blank. He had tried to disappear into a whole lot of nothing, but his shadows were always there. That was until she had showed up.

He had turned into Gould's best fighter, and the asshole was far from happy he had left that life behind. Bass knew Gould had missed out on some steady income when he could not use him in the ring anymore.

Charlie had not even moved a muscle, when Gould approached them. This girl knew about who he used to be here, although neither of them had ever talked about it.

'Have you seen Duncan?'  Bass was pretty much done spending one more second with Gould.

'Forget Duncan. You and I have unfinished business, Jimmy ' Gould said to Monroe.

He got cut off when one his men approached him and said something in a soft and low tone that Charlie could not understand.

'We got to make things right,'Bass expected Gould to pat him on the shoulder like they were some old friends, and he was fucking grateful he didn't because it might have been the one thing to set him off and rip his throat out.And with those words he turned around and walked away from them.

'Feel free to bring your lady friend.' Gould shot Charlie one more greasy disgustingly hungry look.

'Dick,' Bass grunted under his breath. 'Come on,' he nodded at Connor and Charlie.

The only thing he wanted to do now was find Duncan. Find Duncan. Get those man they needed. Get the hell out. And maybe rip Gould's throat out before they left, if there was any time.

That was the plan.

Charlie was scanning the warm and crowded tent for any signs of possible trouble, she knew the look on Bass' face meant business. When Connor was his charming and cocky self, right before they had entered this tent, he had told Bass he knew what he was doing after Bass told him to pay attention. Not here you don't had been Bass simple and very clear reply. It had made her smile to find herself literally in the middle of their father son banter.

Gould was the first person that night who made a remark of the possibility of Bass and her being something, anything.

Duncan Paige would be the second.

They walked into a more private area at the back of the crowded tent. Charlie immediately felt the energy change. Bass stood between her and Connor, while they watched a group playing cards.

'Hello Duncan.' His tone was firm, but with a kind of charm in it that already rubbed Charlie to wrong way.

Charlie waited for any of the men to turn around. None of them turned toward Bass.

She watched how a slender brunette placed her cards on the table in front her and turned her way towards them. Dark eyes, her chin tilted a little bit back, her eyes taking in Bass.

'Hello Sebastian.' Her tone was filled with warning.

Seriously, she thought. Bass' Vegas Warlord was a woman? Of course she was. She forced herself to not roll her eyes at him.

'That's Duncan?' Connor asked him, a hint of pleasant surprise in his tone, when his kid had turned his head towards him.

'And she knows who you are?' Charlotte on his other side.

It made him swallow with difficulty. Man, this was getting uncomfortable fast.

'There is not a lot I don't know kid.' Charlie narrowed her eyes a bit at Duncan's words. She picked up on Duncan's suggestive undertone.

Duncan brought her attention back to Bass.

'You are plucking them awfully young these day, aren't you?'

Bass ignored her.

'We need to talk. 5 minutes. For old times' sake.' There it was again, Charlie noticed. His low and charm my way through anything because I am Sebastian Monroe and I get what I want voice.

'Turn around and walk away while you still can,' Her tone meant business.

Charlie watched Bass take one slow but determined step forward.

'I am afraid I can't do that.' His spoke those words in a dead calm way, but Charlie knew him well enough by now that this calm was a possible deadly warning. He was not kidding. He was not going to walk out.

When Charlie saw the first of Duncan's man going for his gun, she had grabbed hers from the waistband at her jeans. She pointed her gun directly at Duncan without flinching. Her man had their guns on them.

'All right, guys, let's all relax,' Bass voice coming from her right.

'Charlie put the gun down.' His tone was low but she could hear the edge in his words.

Charlie was pissed. This woman had been threatening the hell out of them, when Bass had stepped forward, and now the Warlords bitch eye's were looking at her with amusement, when Bass told her to back the hell down.

'Charlie, put the gun down. Now.' This time it was almost a growl.

She did not let go of Duncan with her eyes, but she did lower her gun.

'Okay, now just hear me out.' Bass eyes were fixed at Duncan. His eyes wide, inviting blues towards her.

Charlie saw the charming grin plastered on Bass his face, while he spoke those words. Seriously? This woman had just threatened them, she had his damn back and now he was turning on the charm for this woman as a thank you?

Duncan gave her a belittling smile, before she flashed her eyes back at Bass. Or Sebastian as she called him, in a way that made Charlie want to reach for her gun again and shove it back in the bitch her face.

Things moved fast after that. Duncan got up from her chair and walked towards them in a slow movement that made Charlie think about the movements of a cat. She nodded at her and Connor before she put her eyes back on Bass.

If Charlie had not been sure before, she was sure now. She did not know what was going on, but there was definitely history between Duncan and Bass. If Bass had told her who he really was, that said it all. Never mind the looks Duncan gave him, and the way Bass was looking at her.

'Only you, Sebastian. My tent. You have 5 minutes.'

She started walking towards the exit of the tent. Her men followed her.

'For old times' sake.' This time Duncan looked at Charlie, when her words were directed at Bass, Charlie knew these words were meant for her.

Bass turned around to meet her and Connor.

'Wait outside, meet you back at the meeting point.' His tone was distant and business like.

Charlie was ready to punch him in the face. Was he serious right now? So, it was back to the children's table for her with Connor now? She raised an eyebrow at him and stared him directly in the eyes.

'Charlie,' Bass looked directly back at her for a second. ' Go.'

And with those words he turned his back to her. Charlie stormed out of the casino tent with large strides, ignoring Gould's stare from the other side of his casino.

Bass and Duncan turned left, she and Connor turned right when they walked outside the tent.

When Charlie turned around once more, she saw how Bass had turned on the charm just a little bit more. His eyes bright, the grin still plastered on his face, his body turned towards Duncan.

Duncan's promising and edgy smile aimed at Bass when her hand reached for his arm for one second, was the last things Charlie saw before the both of them disappeared into Duncan's tent.

She felt stunned. She felt nauseous. Then she felt anger. Anger directed at him. Arrogant son of a bitch. And then she felt anger, anger at herself. How the hell did she ever let this man close? They had been in Vegas for what, a couple of hours, and here she was. Standing outside, locked out of whatever negotiations they would go into, together. Standing outside, when Bass had not even looked back at her anymore.

No. Just no.

She would not allow him to dismiss her like she was what? She turned around, ignoring Connor's question where she was going. She marched towards Duncan's tent. A large man, armed to the teeth, moved in front of her.

'I don't know who you think you are, or what you want, but the answer is no.' His voice was raspy, and his tone left no room for discussion. But hell, she was a Matheson, and she would not take no for an answer, not without a fight.

'I need to see Duncan. I need to see Jimmy. I am with him.' She gave him her best stare when she nodded to the tent behind the giant in front of her.

Turn around you moron. It was Miles voice that echoed through her mind.

'The answer is still no, Duncan won't see anyone right now. She is kind of in the middle of something. So if I were you, I would turn around.'

Giant moved his arm away from his side enough for her to see a very impressive knife dangling at his side. She knew enough. She had enough self preservation inside of her to walk away.

Connor had watched Charlie. This girl was nothing like the girls back home. She had been able to surprise the hell out of him. Every single day. This girl was something else and he was not able to figure her out.

He watched her face when she walked beside him, both of them making their way back to their wagon to kill the hours before his dad would come back. As much as this girl tried to hide it, as much as she tried to make everybody believe there was nothing more than hate for this man, the look on her face when she had watched how his old man walked inside the tent with that war lord, a very appetising war Lord he had to admit, told him a different story.

When Bass had left Duncan's tent, he let his mind wander back to Charlie. God damn it. This fury of a woman had managed to turn half a war clan against them within seconds, when she had aimed her gun at Duncan Paige. Bass was not sure she even realised she did that at the moment Duncan's men decided to go for it, to go for him. more precisely. She had been fucking stunning when she had shoved her gun in Duncan's face, he had to give her that.

It was the first time he had seen her have his back in this kind of fierce way. He was starting to respect this girl more and more every day.

He had negotiated his way towards much needed help, but with one hell of a prize tag.

One look at Duncan had told him that they were very much in trouble back in the casino. Fuck. Duncan had already figured out that there was something going on between him and Charlie. After leaving things the way he did with Duncan, he knew he had to deal with one pissed of Duncan. And that put a target on Charlie's head.

So, although it cost him everything he had, there was no way he could show Duncan she was right. He kept his distance from Charlie, hoping this way Duncan and her men would keep theirs.

There was no way he would drag Charlie further into this. The situation was on the verge of going down the drain, and fast, already.

He knew he had hurt her. He had seen it on her face, he had felt her eyes like daggers in his back when he walked away from her, with Duncan. But he also knew there was no going back. There was no room for errors in this town. They needed those men. And if that meant he had to turn on the charm in front of a woman he was not interested in anymore in, to hell with that.

But now, he wanted, he needed, to find Charlie as fast as he could.

He let one hand going through his messy hair and planted his boots firmly in the dust.

Chapter Text

'I have got to admit, I was wrong about you.'

Connor was walking beside her, in his casual and almost cocky, hands in his pockets way. Charlie walked on his left, and they were making their way through the small path between the tents, heading back for the wagon.

'Is that so?'

Charlie was still pissed, visions of how she would break Monroe's nose going through her mind, but the tone in Connor's voice caught her attention. She could use the distraction so she decided to take the bait.

'I thought you were just some chick.'

'Is that supposed to be a compliment?' She looked up to meet his dark eyes. Connor smiled at her.

'I mean the girls back home, they're putting beetroot on their lips, they are not pulling guns.'

They had reached the wagon and Charlie quickly gathered some wood for a small fire. When Monroe was busy making himself comfortable, so could she.

Charlie eyes were drawn to the line of tents in the distance to her right, before she told herself to get to work and get this fire started. But the very vivid Images of him and Duncan were still finding their way to the edges of her mind.

Connor reached out his hands to help her with the logs of wood, and his fingers touched hers for a moment. His hands were warm.

'I am not like the girls at home am I?' Charlie tilted her head a little bit to the left.

Connor watched her and paused for a moment before a grin spread around his face.

She pretended she did not see how Connor scanned her whole body with one quick, but not so subtle look. He was definitely flirting with her.

It was different. It felt light. It felt uncomplicated. His attention was fully and completely on her, and by the look in his eyes, he liked what he saw. He was cute, she had to admit that. He was cute, but he was not him.

'No, you are definitely not.' His face turned into a wide grin when he answered her.

Their eyes met for a second before Charlie turned away from his dark eyes, that reminded her too much of somebody else's.

She had the fire going within no time and she sat back, her face towards the fire, her back towards the ten city behind her. Connor sat down next to her, not so close that their body's actually touched, but not so far that that she was out of reach. He had been sure that her lush lips had turned into a flirting smile before, but now he could see her whole face change right in front of him.

He was tempted to touch her lips with his, he was tempted to see where he could take this. She seemed different tonight.

'Rootbeet on my lips is the last thing on our minds here,' She raised her eyebrow at him, a mockery smile on her face.

'What do you mean?' Connor asked, genuinely wanting to know where her mind had gone.

'I have news for you buddy. You just joined the losing team. We are all dead within a year. Tops' Her voice gradually changed, the smile from earlier disappeared from her face.

'You really believe that?' He was surprised by her words. The lightness in her face had changed completely.

'Don't get me wrong, I'll go down swinging. But we can't beat these guys. It's going to end bloody for everyone.'

'Or you could try having a little hope?' Connor turned towards her, his eyes on her, while he studied her face.

'I'd rather be realistic.' Charlie stared in the flames.

Connor watched her, watched her face go blank, but her eyes filled with something that made it hard for him to swallow all of a sudden. It was the first time he saw her dark pain, he saw a different side of this strong, ready for everything girl.

Connor put his hands on his knees and turned his eyes towards the fire. The images of what they could have been doing in front of this fire, curious what it would be like to feel what those lips would be like, were fading away.

The moment was over. And besides, by the way she kept on looking at the tents in the distance, he knew he was not the man on her mind right now. And being second choice, well that was just not him.

When Bass made his way back to their meeting point he found Charlie and Connor by a fire. Why the hell was his kid sitting so close to her? She did not look up to meet his eyes at first. Hell. Not a good sign. No matter what the fuck was going on, they always seemed to tune in on each other, one way or the other.

Connor stood up first, before Charlie got up too and walked towards him.

'You got those mercenaries?' Her voice was relaxed. Too god damn relaxed.

'Yeah we've got them. We just got to pay for them.' He cursed himself for the way his voice sounded. It was dam right pathetic.

He noticed how Charlie took her damn time to let her eyes go over his body before she did look him in the eye while she tucked her gun back in the waistband of her jeans.

'Good.' She nodded at him, giving him an infuriating smile, one of those smiles she had shot him in an abandoned swimming pool many months ago. He knew Charlie enough by now to feel her silent anger right through every word and every movement. Bass watched how she followed Connor when she walked away from him.

About half an hour later he sat at the bar of Gould's casino, a much needed drink in his hands, his elbows leaning on the dark wood of the bar. Connor and a very familiar Charlie sitting in front of him. It was the same Charlie that had been ready to put an arrow in his neck. That Charlie. She had and still hardly said a word to him, and had been avoiding almost any eye contact. And that from the woman who had not been able to keep her mouth shut and never seemed to miss an opportunity to be right in his face every damn time.

Bass watched Charlie. He could not take his eyes of her. Even though she was kicking him out with her whole body language, he watched her. He tried to reach her. With distance in her eyes he saw her lick her lips for a moment in an almost nervous way that was much unlike Charlie when she was scanning the small casino around them.

They were busy planning their strategy. Bass would give Gould the fight the son of a bitch felt he owned him to create the distraction Connor and Charlie needed to get to the stones to pay for Duncan's mercenaries. The diamonds would come by the courtesy of Gould himself. Connor and Charlie would get the stones, they would Rob Gould's casino and get the hell out and meet him back after his fight. Clean and simple.

Charlie almost drowned in the intense and deep look Bass gave her, while he took a gulp from his drink, sitting across from her. Her focus on their plan was her lifeline. But his eyes. His eyes. His eyes seemed to look right through her. It made her swirl inside. It was like he was touching all of her, with just his gaze. It woke something in her core, and pulsed right through her body in a warm wave that made her body react to him.

She could not remember any man looking at her the way he did right now. Ever.

She hated herself for what she felt when she met his deep gaze. She hated how under the layer of anger, other feelings had started to stir again. For him. So she focussed on her surroundings, she focussed on the plan ahead. And shoved away the worry she had felt when Bass had told them what his role in this plan would be. The thought of him getting beaten to hell, not trusting Gould one damn bit, did something to her stomach. And all of sudden she realised there had been a day that the prospect of him getting hurt, or worse, had been exactly what she had wanted. But now, it wasn't. Not anymore.

After their drinks, they were almost back at the wagon to prepare themselves for the rest of the night, when Bass caught up with her.

He had run out of patience.

'Charlie,' he tried. When she did not stop he grabbed her elbow.

Connor watched his dad and Charlie and the look on his father's face told him enough. He did not want to get caught in whatever would go down right now between the both of them and he kept on walking.

'Don't you touch me,' She yanked away her arm, giving him one hell of a death stare. Fuck. She was really pissed.

'Would you god damn listen to me?' This time he almost yelled at her, his voice a deep rumble.

'No, you listen to me.' Charlie took one step closer to him, entering his personal space, 'I don't know why you think you can treat me like this. Throwing me out of a negotiating like that.'

'First of all, I did not throw you out. Damn it Charlie, you put a gun in her face. In Duncan's face. Do you have any idea how the hell that could have turned out?' His words were sharp. His face close enough for Charlie to feel his breath.

Did this woman have any idea she had been playing with fire in there?

'After that you could not be in there, when I talked to Duncan. Things were already on the edge of going to hell.'

Charlie heard his words, but her anger, and maybe her stubbornness too, kept her from seeing the situation from his side. She had been hurt enough for more than one lifetime, she had enough of that.

'Yes, of course. I am sure your were very busy talking to her, Monroe.'

Charlie did not miss the effect on her words on him. She saw darkness mixing in his normal so blue eyes. Damn. She did not plan to lash out like this. She was pissed as hell, but she was slowly understanding that she might have read the situation all wrong. But her rage, and hurt, had caused her to flashback to months before, before, when Bass had been Monroe and nothing more. Maybe he should have stayed Monroe.

Monroe. She had called him Monroe. They both came to the same realisation at the same time.

Bass looked at Charlie, anger building up in him because of her god damn stubbornness to listen to him. Of what she had just accused him off.

Nothing the hell happened with Duncan. Duncan had been screwing with Charlie because somehow she had found out, that was the way to mess with her. And if he had not been very careful, it would be her way to mess with him too. Duncan was a smart woman, always on the lookout for her enemies soft spot.

She had found his.

But he had not been screwing Duncan. Yes, he had charmed his way out of an impossible tense and possible lethal situation. Hell, Duncan had given him some mixed signals herself, he had felt her touch on his arm. He had enough woman in his life to know what that touch could imply. Where this night could have taken them.

But he did not want Duncan Paige. Not anymore. He wanted somebody else. Apparently his mind had decided he wanted blonde curls, blue piercing eyes, hell, fury and stubbornness in one stunning package.

But fuck, they way she was talking to him hurt like hell.

'Fine, then you don't listen. Whatever.' He was not yelling anymore. His words were calm, too calm, distance in every word.

Charlie saw the harsh lines in his face, the tension around his jaw, the way he pressed his lips together when his eyes turned cold.

He had changed into a man he had not been to her in a very long time right before her eyes. She hated every second of it.

He stepped away from and walked away to the wagon. Charlie shook her head in frustration and cursed something in silence.

Bass rolled up his sleeves.

'I am off. I'll meet the both of you at the meeting point.'

'Thanks for letting us handle this,' Connor nodded to Bass.

Connor was gathering the weapons he and Charlie would need to rob the casino. Charlie picked her own from the back of the wagon.

She avoided Bass look. If he wanted to be a son of a bitch, then please Monroe, go ahead.

He was almost on his way before he turned to her.

'Oh and Charlotte. Try not to get yourself killed. Or at least, wait until you are on Miles his watch.'

And then he was gone, walking into the dark that lead back to the first tents of the tent city.

Charlie was stunned with anger, each of his words hit her like a punch in her face. She was pissed but most of all, she was confused. How the hell did they go from that night at the fire to this?

Something inside of her told her to follow him. But she couldn't. She wouldn't.

She had no idea that within twenty four hours, Bass was closer to death than she could ever imagine.

Bass cursed himself for his words to Charlie even before he reached Gould's fight tent. This whole trip was going to hell right before his eyes. Damn it, the last thing he had wanted to do was hurt her. He had wanted to keep her safe. How many things she seemed to throw in his face, how much he cursed himself for that, that never seemed to change. Damn Mathesons, god, she was so much like Miles.

He had no idea then that things only would go to hell even more.

He had given Gould his fight.

It had been one hell of a fight, but he had found a way to fight his way through, punch by punch. He just hoped it was enough of a distraction to give Charlie and his kid the time to do what they had to do. He had found Connor afterwards. So far, the plan had worked.

When pride had filled his chest when his son was walking beside him, the diamonds secure, he just wanted to meet Charlie and get them all the hell out of here. No matter how infuriating that woman could be, he still needed to get her out of here.

That was, until one of Gould's man knocked him off his feet, and both him and Connor were dragged into a cage.

That was until Gould, somehow had found out the truth and decided that putting the great Sebastian Monroe and his son in a dog fight to the death, the death match of the year, would earn him one hell of a payday.

Bass had grabbed the son of a bitch by his throat, when Gould made the mistake of coming to close to the fence, wanting to tear him the hell apart, when the weasel had revealed his sick plan. Of course, there were six asshole guards surrounding them, ready to take his kid an him out, so that had to wait. For now.

And now, hours before sunrise, he knew there was no other way out of this. He had to teach his kid everything he knew. He had to teach his son, his blood, a kid that only just came into his life, how to kill him. Because he had to live. He had to get out of here. He had to live.

Charlie could have walked away.

When neither Bass or Connor had showed up at their rendezvous point she however didn't. A year ago she would have. But she could not leave Bass behind.

They were fighting on the same side now, and for Charlie that meant not leaving anyone behind. He had saved her life, more than once. But as much as those reasons fuelled her decision not to leave him behind, she knew there was more. She knew now how his body felt against his skin. She knew now how his hand felt when it was going through her hair. She knew now how it felt to get completely lost in him.

She knew now there was more to Sebastian Monroe than she had ever expected to find.

She knew she was not ready to give up on Bass.

So, Charlie had tracked them down, locked in a cage, six guards around them, when she hid in the dark not far from the cage. She had overheard Gould's words with a sickening feeling, disgusted with the idea of a dog fight where only one man would walk away. And she knew that man would not be Bass.

Charlie forced herself to think about her options. And realised very fast that there were no options. There was only one. Duncan Paige. It was the only promise for help in this town, it was the only way. So she did what she always did. She grabbed that one way, against the odds, that could lead them to survival.

She forced herself to get up and walked over to the one change to get Bass out Gould's sick plans alive.

He had to get out of there. He had to live.

The sun had risen again, covering the world around her in a pale grey morning light. There were drops of dew on the coloured leaves on the trees around her. The camp around her was waking up. It had been a cold autumn morning, and how much the beams of the sun had tried to fight their way through the grey mist around her, they had failed. And so had she.

Charlie had walked into Duncan's camp the night before. She had held her head high when she met Duncan. She had told her that if she wanted to get those stones for her mercenaries, she had to help her get Monroe out. She had counted on the history between Duncan and Bass to make this woman help her. She had counted on it but guessed wrong.

Duncan had tied her up in one of her tents, and when she had told Charlie that Sebastian Monroe knew nothing about family, that he knew nothing about fighting for anything else than Sebastian Monroe himself, when Charlie again had tried to reason with her for help, Charlie had surprised himself by defending him.

She had actually defended Sebastian Monroe. She had told Duncan she was wrong.

It had not made one damn difference. And when Duncan had left the tent, Charlie had tilted her head back against the wooden beam she was tied up too, fighting tears and frustration away.

When one of Duncan's men had untied her, Duncan had handed her over to Gould himself, who had been waiting with one hell of a disgusting smile that had set off all the alarm signs within her.

Gould had chained her down on the back of his wagon. The grey mist surrounded Duncan's camp when Charlie threw the bitch one last icy look. Charlie felt the weight of the chains around her wrists. And there was one thought pounding through her mind. She had failed.

Bass wanted to tear the fence apart with his bare hands that separated him from Charlie. He had watched how Gould sat in front of the wagon when he approached. And then his eyes found her. A shock went through his system. Charlie sat on the back, the chains around her wrists igniting a rage inside of him.

He told himself to stand his ground, he told himself he could not indulge this sick son of a bitch. Gould would have a field day when he would blow up in front of him. That, and Gould would only hurt Charlie more if he knew he could mess with him this way.

He told himself to get a damn grip, for her, but when her eyes found his, her blue eyes reaching out through the grey hell of misery around them, her blue eyes filled with pain, regret and despair piercing through the fence between them, he almost lost it.

He knew what Gould did to woman, he knew what he would do to a woman like Charlie.

He watched how the greasy son of a bitch climbed down from his wagon like he was the king of the world and walked over to Charlie. He ordered one his men to take unchain her.

Gould was close enough so she could see the sweat on his skin, smell his rancid breath. And then, he reached out his disgusting fingers to touch her cheek. She stared him down, not wanting to give him to pleasure of her reaction.

'You stay the fuck away from her Gould!' Bass voice rumbled through the air when he saw how Gould touched Charlie. He let his hands crash into the fence in front of him, his whole body exploded with rage and frustration. He was going to kill Gould. He would rip his throat out and rip him apart, limb by limb.

The sound of the fence echoed through the mist around them and Bass his anger cut right through Charlie.

Gould grabbed Charlie by her hair and walked over to Bass.

'Look at her, she is a sight for sore eyes.. We will have so much fun with your whore General. '

Charlie struggled and tried to get away from Gould's grip on her. It didn't matter. There was nowhere left to go.

'I will fucking kill you for this Gould, god damn it. I will fucking cut your throat for this.'

Gould's only reply was a cold laugh. Charlie was slowly losing contact with her own body, when all she could do was look at Bass. She knew it was probably the last time she would see him.

Bass saw how her normally so clear eyes fill themselves with tears, the gaze in her eyes started to match the grey mist of this hell of a morning, when one of Gould's men grabbed her by her arm and yanked her away from him. The way she looked at him was like a god damn bullet, that ripped its way through his entire body.

Even when she was out of his sight, he could picture her eyes, he could picture the look she just gave him, with his eyes closed.

Bass knew death would be waiting for him some day. But never, never in his darkest hours he would have guessed he would die because his own son would pierce a sword through his chest.

He had never imagined that he would die, after he had taught his child how to give him the final blow.

Maybe this was exactly the end he deserved, but the idea what this would do to Connor, ripped him apart.

At least, he had told Connor the truth about Emma. About how his mother had died in his arms, after taking a bullet, when he had dragged her right into gunfire. He had not pulled the trigger, but she was dead because of him.

It was the truth and he had had used it to ignite rage in Connor, rage his kid would need to kill.

He had told him because Bass wanted him to know the ugly truth. It was the only thing he could give him. So the both men had sit with their back against the cold fence and Bass had asked his son with everything he had to start a life, to get the Republic back, the only thing he could leave behind for his kid. To only thing he could leave behind from himself. He had begged him to not be alone, because that was what he had turned out be.

Alone.

He had clawed his way to the front of the pack. And when he got there, he was alone.

Alone.

It had not meant a damn thing. There had been nobody left. He had asked for Connor to not be alone, to find a girl, not Charlie God, No, he could take a lot of shit, but the idea of Connor pursuing Charlie was one thing he couldn't, to have kids. To start a family.

And now, Bass watched Connor. Both man standing close, almost chest to chest in the middle of the fight ring. He watched his son for the very last time, and tried to take in as much as him as he could. No matter where he would go, he would take the image of his kid with him. He felt the edge of Connor's swords going through the flesh of his neck. It would all be over soon.

The crowd around them was screaming, Gould came out of his chair to watch Connor gave the General his final blow.

Charlotte, god Charlotte, was still out there somewhere. But for him, it would end here. It would end in this fight tent, in this hell of a fighting ring. It would end with endless regrets, with endless things he would never be forgiven for. It would end with someone he would never get to know better, he would never get to hold as his own, he would never be able to protect her anymore.

He looked at Connor, he tried to tell him without words that he already had forgiven him for what he had to do to his own father. It's okay son. It's okay.

The screams and sickening cheering around him faded out, and he watched the change in Connor's face, watched how Connor moved his arm, moved the sword one more time to strike him for the very last time, and one of his heartbeats stretched out to feel like fucking forever.

When he had expected to feel the sword gutting through him, the shot of a gun reached him. The sharp cold blade of his son's sword never reached him, as the crowd on the other side of the fence started to scream and run.

Gould had dragged her off to a dark and gruel some trailer. It smelled like hell, there was a small bed in the centre and the sheets, she did not even try to think about those sheets anymore. Her mind was already set on one thing.

To survive.

She was forced to wear some hooker dress, a dress that remembered her too painfully about the time Dressler had dressed her up like a cheap prostitute.

She knew Miles was too far out this time. She knew this time Bass would not be the one to get her out of trouble like he had done before. She knew it was up to her and her alone.

One of Gould little helpers chained her down to the head board of the small bed with her left arm. She shot him her best deadly look.

The cheers coming from the larger fight tent behind the suffocating trailer told her the fight had begun.

She felt her chest fill with dark sharp tears she would not allow herself to cry right now.

The complete and final knowledge Bass would not be in her world anymore within the next hour.

He would never let his fingers run through her hair after today. He would never sit in front of a fire, keeping watch, while she would sleep. He would never wrap her up in his arms and bring her to the edge, before they would fall over together. He would never find her with his eyes on an unexpected moment during the way.

She would never feel his skin on hers anymore, she would never feel the stubble of his beard against her skin anymore. She would never argue with him up to the point where she was not sure if she would fight him or want to feel his body all over hers. She would never hear his low deep voice that drove her wild in every way possible. She would never be able to thank him for what he did for her, for all the times he saved her in so many ways.

After today, that would be all gone. He would be gone. And the raw emptiness that crept up on her with those thoughts, surprised her to no end.

Charlie heard how the door of the trailer opened, and a large dark man stepped in. His eyes filled with lust were enough to wake up the warrior in her. She decided she would fight. Fight with everything she had. There was nothing more left to do.

Scumbag guy approached her, and she took in a deep breath. He started to touch her, his revolting breath reaching her. His heavy body leaned into hers, his hands were going to places where they did not belong.

His hands were violating her body, his breathing got heavier with a sickening rate, his weight on her made her feel a dark panic, made every fibre of her body scream no.

Fight, she told herself. Fight.

So she fought, she fought him, she used everything she had ever seen Miles and Bass do, and she knew if it was him or her, it would be her.

She managed to turn scumbag guy around so she got the upper hand. She decided right there and then that Gould would pay for him to chain her up to this bed like he did. Charlie took the long chain, and wrapped it around the guy's neck.

Don't let go. Don't let go.

It was her mantra with every heartbeat while she let out a scream to empower herself.

When she crashed his head into the wooden head board she killed him with one last blow. The place where the chain was nailed into the wood broke free and when her eyes found the key on the other side of the trailer, she could free the heavy chain from her arm.

She only gave herself time to grab her pants, jacket and boots. She decided since scumbag guy did not need his gun anymore, she might as well use it instead until she had found her own weapons again. She kicked the door of the trailer open, leaving the suffocating air from the trailer behind and replaced that as fast as she could for the warmth of the fight tent. She heard the screams and she saw hints of Bass and Connor, between all the people who had gathered around the gate of the fight cage.

He was alive. He was still alive.

Duncan stood not very far away from her, closely behind her stood one of Gould's man. The same man that chained her up to the bed. Charlie did not need much time to notice the small knife in his left hand. Right before the man wanted to pierce Duncan's back with the knife, Charlie redirected it and gutted him with his own knife instead.

Duncan turned around, surprise and shock on her face. Charlie tilted her head back.

'I just saved your life bitch. You own me.' Her blue ones pierced into Duncan's dark ones.

Bass had no idea how the hell Charlie had made her way back into the fight tent. He had no idea how she had broke Connor and him free. But when she yelled at them to stand back before she shot open the lock that had prevented him and Connor to get the hell out, he could not believe she was actually there for one moment.

Or maybe he could. This was Mini Miles after all.

He pushed his kid through the crowd, Charlie was running far just before them, while he watched how Duncan planted a bullet between Gould's eyes. It was not that he disliked the whole concept of a bullet in Gould's head, but man, he had wanted to kill that son of a bitch himself.

He had seen Duncan in the crowd before, right before they had entered the fight cage, and he had expected her to take action sooner. He had been wrong.

He shoot one look at Connor, the kid looked like hell, but he would be okay. They would be okay now. Then he found Charlie again. He had noticed immediately the sleazy and cheap nobody dress that was around her body.

With a couple of large strides he closed the distance to Charlie. The last time he had spoken with her, it had been al distance and coldness. But the last time they had locked eyes, right before Gould had dared to drag her away, away from him, her eyes had reached him, like they had always did.

Apparently she had stayed and saved his life. Apparently his life was worth something to this girl, although he was not sure why and how.

He had no fucking idea what to say to her.

Charlie noticed how he came closer to her, but all she wanted to do was to get the hell out of this dress that made her feel like a damn prostitute. The idea of Bass, or anybody seeing her like this, was filling her with a sense of shame.

' Need to get my stuff,' She did not meet his eyes, when her tone was flat.

Bass understood. One look at her and he understood. He never let her out of his sight, but he gave her space.

When he saw her again, her face was closed off to him, her leather jacket zipped up towards her neck. There was one question on his mind. A question, when looking at her, he was afraid to know the answer to.

Giant walked up on the three of them.

'Duncan wants to see you.' Bass nodded at him.

Charlie's eyes had been fixed at a point at the distance. She felt too empty to react. With every minute her body seemed to betray her, to give up on her. Something hurt. But she was too tired to think about the sting of pain that was beaming around her left arm. She just observed the fact that it hurt.

They were making their way back to Duncan's camp. Bass walked right before Charlie, turning his head towards her. She was silent. Too silent. She just walked behind him in a way that was so much unlike her.

The last twenty four hours felt like a surreal rush. And Charlie felt how the weight of those hours were pulling her under, step by step. She forced herself to take another step, but she stumbled. She found her balance again and told herself to breathe in the cold night air, but then everything around her turned black.

She thought she heard her own name.

She thought she heard his low voice reaching for her.

But she was not sure.

Bass had turned his eyes away from her for a couple of seconds when he heard her stumble. In one fast reflex he turned around. He saw how she hit the grass before him, before he was even able to catch her. He watched in shock how her feet simply fell from under her and her body just caved in.

'Charlie!' her name came rumbling from his lips, without even thinking about it.

He cupped her face with his hands and then he forced himself to stay calm.

'Hey, Charlie, stay with me.' His voice was low, but not as steady as he fucking wished right now.

His eyes scanned her body. His fingers started to check her body for injuries he missed before. And then he saw it, the red flowing over her hand. He zipped her jacket open en gently got her left arm out of the sleeve. There was a wound on her upper arm and it was deep. He doubted it if was enough to let her collapse like this, but the sheer exhaustion on her face told him the wound was not the only thing that had made her crash like she just did.

He knew he had to stop the bleed, he knew he had to close this wound, but hell, his mind was not cooperating as it normally did. He told himself to get a damn grip.

Bass grabbed her bag, that had fallen off her shoulder, trying to reach for the improvised first aid kit he knew was in there. She always had some basic stuff with her. He pushed down the cold panic in his gut when he was not able to find it. And then his fingers touched something familiar. He grabbed onto it.

He pulled out the travel book he put in her bag herself, many weeks ago. He stared at the cover, and felt how shock gutted right through him.

She had kept it.

Fuck.

He turned around to Charlie and got to work to stop the bleed on her arm. When he was almost done he watched how she slowly started to move. She was mumbling words he did not understand. She was still far away.

'Charlie, can you hear me?' His voice sounded hoarse.

She did not answer him.

But then her arm moved slowly, and he could feel how her fingers stretched and reached out before they grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket. She did not let go anymore.

Chapter Text

Charlie felt how hands cupped her face. Followed by more dizziness and dark swirling that made it impossible for her to move or even think.

She heard her name coming from very far away.

She felt strong hands working on her left arm. There was a sharp pain followed by a dull pulsing one that reached all the way to her shoulder. She was trying to fight the darkness that tried to overwhelm her over again and again, she was fighting to stay out of its grip. Darkness meant letting go of control.

She heard a low voice and something told her that she was safe. She was not able to fight for herself right now against whatever threat was out there, but she knew he was close. No matter what, he always seemed to have her back.

She tried to hang on to anything, something that would prevent her from tumbling away into complete darkness again. She had experienced that before and the thought of having to go through that again made her kick and fight against it. So she reached out without knowing where she reached out for. She felt fabric between her fingers and grabbed it with the strength that was still left.

She felt how somebody else put something under her head. She felt numb, she was spinning, she felt exhausted.

Charlie had no idea how much time had passed put slowly she was able to hear something again, instead of the deafening buzzing sound in her ear. She tried to open her eyes and told herself to get up.

'Not so fast Charlie, hang on.' His voice.

When colours and shapes started to make sense again she looked directly in the eyes of a man she was not sure she was going to see again. For a moment their eyes just locked.

Then she felt the sting on her left arm, and she looked at bandages, carefully wrapped around what had to be a wound she did not remember getting. She had felt something when she tried to escape the fight tent, but there was so much adrenaline in her body she had not noticed it before. She turned her gaze back on Bass when everything came back in short pulses.

Vegas. Duncan. Their battling words before he took off. Duncan again. Gould. Gould's nauseating trailer. A crowd cheering, the fight to the death.

She had to close her eyes for a moment to regain more focus.

Bass had taken care of Charlie's wound, repeating silently in his head for her to wake the hell up, watching her face and body for any movements. When she finally started to move, he felt relieve.

When she opened her eyes and sat up slowly, she looked at him. She looked at her wound and back at him again, he almost reached out a hand to her, when her eyes narrowed a bit and distance appeared in her gaze.

'I'm fine. ' Her tone was flat.

She got up, still a little dizzy but she told herself to get on her feet and forced herself to feel the ground under her boots. No time to think about pain or exhaustion anymore. She gave herself some time before she told Connor and Bass for the second time she was fine and they could move on.

At this point, Bass knew better than to argue against it, hell, this woman had been awake for five whole damn minutes after almost being drugged to death, when she had launched herself at his knife a very long time ago. So he watched Charlie and stayed close to her.

Duncan was still expecting them, and Charlie knew she could not afford to be anything but ready for what would happen next. After that, it was time to go. She wanted to leave this city behind as fast as they could. She could not believe she had passed out. She felt, well, rather stupid.

What happened next was so far away from what Charlie had expected from Duncan that if somebody had told her about what would happen next she would thought it was a good joke.

When Bass, Connor and herself had walked into her camp, Charlie scanned their surroundings. She felt her knife on her hip, her gun resting on the skin of her back, ready to reach for any of her weapons if things would get out of hand.

Instead of needing weapons, Duncan offered them water and food. Water, food and five of her men. Of course, Charlie heard how Bass made one of his wonderful comments about how they could use at least twice the amount she was offering.

'I think a thank you is what you are looking for.' It was Duncan's very short and sharp reply to that.

They were standing around a large fire.

Bass sighed away his frustration and shook his head while he looked at Duncan. Both Connor and Charlie threw their bags over their shoulders. He decided to do the same and take what the hell they could get at this point.

'Let's go boys,' Bass spoke to the men, who were still standing behind Duncan. When they did not even moved on fucking inch he shot a look at Duncan, who was starting to look too amused at this point.

'They don't' answer to you.' Duncan moved her eyes away from him and turned to Charlie. 'They answer to her. She is the one I owe.'

Charlie saw how Connor was trying to hide his smile behind his hand out of the corner from her eyes, and she watched Bass' his face go to a very amusing holy hell this is not happening look. She felt how her face lit up.

'You are not bad kid,' Duncan's paused, 'You are way better then he deserves.'

Charlie looked at the woman before her. She was though, but at the end of the day, she had acknowledged what Charlie did for her. Both woman stood in front of each other for a moment, when Duncan nodded at her with determination and something that came close to a smile around her lips.

'Come on then,' she nodded at the men behind Duncan. She nodded with gratitude to the war lord before her.

Charlie turned around and when she walked along Bass she could not resist to give him her best right in your face smile. It felt so good to see the arrogant smugness disappear from his face for once. This time, she had something he needed.

She might be enjoying him, the head spinning amazing things he did to her and her body. But this moment. It was so freaking perfect.

Bass felt how his mouth opened in a not so intelligent way and he tried to keep a straight face. He failed. He could not believe what the fuck Duncan just did. He could not believe the god damn look Charlie just threw in his face when Charlie walked passed him. Her arm almost close enough to touch his, a wide confident smile plastered on her face. He was not sure if he wanted to slap that smile right of her face or it added only more for the raw hunger he had for this woman.

Charlie did not look behind anymore, when she saw that Duncan's men, her men now, were following her. But if she had, she would have seen that one of Duncan's men shoulder checked Bass when they passed him. Not too hard, but enough to add to his wounded pride.

One day later

Bass found her sitting on a tree trunk. It was close to sunset and the last light of the day behind them still touched the skin of her face.

They had spent the day on the road, damn, had they done anything else the past months? She had left camp to get cleaned up, and Bass had wanted to give her space. But when she still was not back after what felt like fucking forever he decided to go after her. He would risk a lot of insults and biting words for following her, but screw it, he was going anyway.

Charlie had been quiet, her usual sharp insults had not been there and things were different. It was not the whole you barely exist to me silence he had gotten used to. It was like her mind was constantly in a different place.

They had not had a moment alone since they left Vegas. To be honest he was not fucking sure what to say or what to do. There was one question still pounding in the back of his mind. What the hell happened to her between the moment he had seen her last and the moment she showed up to get both him and Connor out of that cage?

The whole day had seemed to be filled with mile after mile, dust, sweat and echo's from the city they were all trying to leave behind.

The look on his son's face, right before he knew Connor was going to give him the final deadly blow. The crowd cheering, screaming as a sickening wall around them.

Charlie. Charlie's disconnected eyes the moment Gould had dragged her away. Wishing he could rip the fence between them apart to kill the son of a bitch with his bare hands for even touching her. The fight he had before with her. Not being sure if she had been hurt or pissed like hell at him. Probably even both.

When he reached her, he saw she reached for her gun, only to put her arm back on her knee before her when she realised it was him. She did not look at him, she just stared ahead. Her jacket was closed, the zipper almost cutting into the skin of her neck.

'How is your arm?' His voice was low. Bass leaned into a tree, not far away from her.

She finally looked up at him. She was taken aback by the deep look he gave her. The harsh lines in his face were gone.

'Better.' Her words were accompanied by a small nod. He actually did a good job taking care of the deep wound, but she was not in the mood to share that part of information with him.

'I did not kick you out of negotiations.' Charlie was surprised by his sudden change of topic. But then again, this was Bass. He hit her with those things straight out of nowhere when she least expected it.

'I was not trying to piss you of, I was trying to get you out of there in one piece.'

She had thought about what happened on the road, and she knew he was speaking the truth. She had been so very pissed, so sick of people treating her like she was a child. But when she had given it some thought, well, a lot of thought actually, she realised Bass had not wanted to piss her of on purpose.

She nodded at him. They locked eyes in a meaningful way.

'So you thought I was busy screwing Duncan huh? 'Didn't like that?' His voice was low, but there was a teasing tone behind his words. 'Don't want to share all this Monroe goodness?'

She rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head. She tried to not react to his last words. She looked away from him for just a second, and she wished he did not see that. Of course he did. The stupid smirk on his face told her enough.

Truth was, and it irritated her beyond everything that Bass probably knew now, she didn't like the idea of him with another woman. Which was ironic, since she had been sharing some pretty damn good moments with a man known for his appreciation for woman. Lots and lots of woman.

Bass walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the tree trunk. He gave her a small nudge with his shoulder.

'I don't like to share something really good either, Charlotte.' His tone should have offended her, but instead it jolted right through her system.

The sun was setting more and more, setting the sky above them on fire before the sky would turn dark for the night.

'You stayed.' His words broke the silence. The playfulness had disappeared from his tone.

'Well, somebody had to safe your ass.' Charlie raised her eyebrow, her voice close to mocking, but her face serious when she looked at him.

'You know, you didn't have to. You put yourself in so much fucking danger Charlie.'

'I know. And you are right. I did not have to.'

He gave her an exploring and questioning look.

'But I wanted to. '

It was the truth. Charlie watched Bass face change in front of her, she kept her eyes on him. He could not meet her eyes any longer. He fixed his eyes at a point somewhere before him. He felt Charlie's shoulders touching his for a moment. He knew it was her who saved him from the lethal injection. Apparently he was still worth saving to her. He wished he had the damn courage to ask her why.

There was more silence.

He really fucking wished he did not have to ask her to next question. But he was not sure what was worse. Knowing or not knowing.

'Charlie, did Gould, did his men hurt you?' Fuck, please say no. . .

He watched how a shadow fell over her face, reaching the normally so clear blue of her eyes.

'One of his men tried to.' Memories of scumbag guys' rancid breath, sweat and the weight of his body leaning on hers tried to suffocate her. 'He tried, but he failed.'

Bass mind was attacked with strong images of one of Gould's son of a bitch men who tried to force themselves on Charlie. He felt renewed rage going through his veins.

'He is dead.' He heard the determination in her voice.

Bass could not help but feel pride at her words. This woman knew to take care of herself, she never stopped fighting. But the shadow on her face, fuck, he hated to see that. Whatever the hell happened there in that trailer of Gould, he wished he had been there to rip that guy to pieces for her.

'I just want to wash Vegas of. Wash it off and move on.' Charlie looked away from him, her eyes now fixed at the stream not far away from both of them when she spoke those words. When she found his eyes again he nodded at her, telling her he understood.

Bass slowly pushed himself away from the tree, and with one last look at Charlie he turned away from her and walked away in the direction of their camp.

Charlie knew Bass had not walked back to camp. She could still sense him. He was giving her the time and space she needed so very much. But she also knew he was close. She finally let her fingers go to the zipper of her jacket, exposing skin covered in bruises.

She let the cool water cast away some of the Vegas shadows.

Bass knew Charlie knew he had not walked back to camp. She had moved her head to the side for a quick moment, turning his way without actually following him with her eyes when he had walked away from the stream. There was no way in hell he would leave her here alone, so close to sunset. So he put his hands in his pockets and waited for her.

When Charlie walked his way and reached him she slowed down for a moment. There were no accusations, there was no surprise in her face that he was still there. He walked next to her, and together they made their way back to camp.

Connor walked over to her and gave her a plate of food.

Duncan's men, it still felt weird to think about them as hers, had settled down for the night. Bass was sitting on a log close to the fire, ready for first watch.

So here they were, again. A fire, not far from Vegas, at night. Herself, Team Monroe and her small army. She still smiled at the whole concept. While she walked over to the wagon she thought about how she could not wait to see Miles and see his face when they made their way back to the safe house. She found her bedroll in the back between their supplies. And then for one moment, when she put the soap back in her bag, she saw the book between her clothes. Bass must have found it when he was looking for her improvised first aid kit.

Bass looked up from the flames when Charlie walked back from the wagon to the fire, bedroll in her hand. For a moment he was not sure what she was going to do. But without looking at him, she threw her bedroll on the floor in a casual way. In a casual way and right next to his own.

3 days later

With every day on the road they got more miserable, more tired. But with every mile that seemed to get between them and Vegas, things felt more like the way they had been between the both of them.

He had watched Charlie with earth, wind and fire. She was actually doing pretty damn good with them. Of course she was, he remembered himself, she was a fucking Matheson. It was in her blood.

They were only one or two days away from Willoughby and it was a clear night. Charlie had gone hunting, the wound on her arm healing without any problems. She came back with more than enough and it made the men well fed and content.

Stories were told in front of the fire and Bass watched Connor with the men. His kid seemed to blend in more and more with their little group.

They had found a small abandoned house they could use for the night. Charlie had offered to take second watch and had gone inside to get some sleep.

She looked around the small room. It had been a while since she had a room all for herself. Faded and worn out curtains in front of the windows. There was a small bed close to the window and she threw her jacket over a broken chair in the corner. She was removing her boots when there was a knock on the door.

Bass.

'Come in,' she said, while she let her left boot fall on the ground close to the right one.

When he walked in, the room felt even smaller for a moment.

'Room for one more?' He said in a husky voice, nodding at the bed, a small smile around his eyes.

She could not help but shooting a small smile back at him, remembering the night she had called his bluff in that small house and she had ended up sleeping next to Sebastian Monroe in one bed.

Apparently her smile was the answer to his question, because he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. Outside they could hear the men, but the room was quiet around them.

Charlie felt his eyes on her skin, she felt Bass' eyes going over her bruises and saw how his jaws were locking. She broke eye contact and wished she was still wearing her jacket. She felt too exposed.

She felt his hand around her cheek, and she felt how Bass turned her head back towards him. She was still not sure why she felt some kind of weird shame when it came to scumbag guy in that trailer. Shame for the awful slutty dress Gould made her wear. She never felt so visible, so cheap, while she wished she had been invisible at that moment.

She found his eyes, and there was nothing in there that made her feel cheap, that made her feel ashamed. He was looking at her, like he had done before. His gaze was deep and filled with a look he always seemed to preserve for her.

Bass had seen how Charlie looked away from him, a flicker of shame in her eyes, when he had watched her bruises. He knew they were there. He knew Charlie had been wearing her jacket for days now, even with the burning sun over their heads when they were on the road. He watched how her eyes went to her jacket on the other side of the room. He reached out for her, his movements slow, to give her ever opportunity to tell him to stop.

When he had turned Charlie's head towards him, he felt how she relaxed under his touch. He felt how she moved closer to him.

His lips touched hers, lightly. He felt the softness and fullness of her lips against his own. He brushed her jaw line with his thumb.

Charlie felt the roughness of his skin against her face, his warm breath against her lips. His scent was close. And then it was like her body woke up again. She forgot about shame, she forgot about her bruises. It was just Bass. Bass and her in this small room on this night.

Bass felt the shift in her, he saw the chance in her eyes. He felt how her breathing got faster, little fast waves of her warm breath reaching him. He kissed her more deeply and at the same time he lifted Charlie onto his lap and in his arms.

He wanted to reclaim her, make her and himself forget about any men that touched her when she did not wanted to be touched.

Charlie felt how her body seemed to melt in his arms, how her body was placed perfectly in his lap, her legs fowling over one of his knees, her feet touching the bed to his left. The room was almost dark, only the light of the flames outside coming through the window. The soft light reached his eyes.

She remembered the both of them wrapped in each other just like this, against the wall of the shed of their safe house, not so long ago. She also remembered how much she had wished to feel his hand on her skin, without the fabric of her pants still separating his fingers from her core, before they had to stop.

By the way he was looking at her, his lips curling into a hungry smile for just a second, he was definitely thinking about the same thing.

Their tongues met, lips crashing into each other. Charlie let her hand glide through his beard, while she moaned, the sound disappeared somewhere in his hungry groan.

She felt how his hand moved under her top, in a slow but mind blowing determined way. He freed one soft breast from her bra and started to play with it. Her already hard nipple between his fingers, the curve of her breast in his hand. Then he moved on and cupped her other breast with his whole hand with an approving growl, while his lips were moving from her lips to her neck.

'Tonight it is about you,' He whispered hoarsely in her ear. The promise in his words made her shiver for one quick second. He took his time, and let his hand go over her legs.

Her core was awake with want, and when he finally moved on with his touch to her flat stomach she felt how her hips reached for his touch.

He stopped kissing her and looked at her, hungry blue meeting hungry blue. Bass opened the button of her pants and without wanting to take his eyes away from her, he slowly let his fingers find her warm and wet core. He teased her, and watched how Charlie tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

Fuck. He was not sure he would ever see this stunning look on her face. First because he was sure Charlie was ready to kill him after he had walked to her after seeing Duncan. Second because he was sure after that his son would kill him not long after that.

But instead of that, this beautiful force of a woman was in his arms again, his fingers teasing her, before they started stroking that one perfect place that made her moan and gasp. He felt the heat under his fingers radiating on his own skin.

His touch started out light, but the way she was pushing herself towards his fingers told him she needed more. He gave her more.

He gave her more until she felt her whole body tense up. She felt his other hand wrapped up in the hair on the back of her head. She could feel his hardness through his pants against her.

He gave her more until he felt how Charlie moved her head into the crook of his neck, her fingers grabbing on to his leather jacket.

He gave her more until she moaned his name against his beard.

'Come for me Charlotte.' The teasing low tone close to her ear.

'Bass.' Her voice low and almost too soft to hear. When she felt his fingers between her skin and the fabric of her panties, she had to grab his jacket when her orgasm hit her. It came from somewhere deep, and her body kept on crashing into his fingers with every new wave of pleasure.

Her orgasm stretched out for ever, leaving behind a deep satisfied feeling. She just wanted to lay still. Take in the scent of his jacket. She placed her head on his shoulder and felt how he leaned his head into her hair.

Bass wrapped both of his arms around her , feeling the weight of her body in his arms, and the scent of her hair close.

After she told him lazily to wake her up for second watch, Bass placed one more deep kiss on her mouth before he left the room. He left the room and left her satisfied and almost asleep.

Chapter Text

After waking up and a small rushed breakfast, their small group found themselves on yet another dusty road again. Connor was up front, earth wind and fire, she had no idea what Bass had meant with that, were walking behind her, and Bass was on her left.

Charlie was dragging her feet over the sandy road, and she was covered in sweat, dirt and sand. Hitting a cold stream was on her mind. It would certainly help to cool off her body, in more ways than one. Neither of them had spoken about their little encounter. But Bass ' intense gaze earlier this day when she walked down the steps of the porch of their safe house, just before they had moved out, morning sun just rising above the tree tops, had almost made her tremble. Her body seemed to remember his every touch in the dark, and it betrayed her in the way it seemed to want to do a whole lot other things to his body.

The border line arrogant smug smirk on his face when her eyes had found his, had made her want to do other, more violent things to him.

When Bass had watched Charlie coming out of the house, he immediately remembered her wet soft skin against his fingers. Well, who was he kidding, it never left his damn mind causing him having to sit his ass down through first watch with the aching sensation of his hardness against the inside of his pants. Hell, this was going to be another long day on the road, with a lot of Charlie. Swinging gorgeous hips and sweaty Charlie.

The smallest of sounds set the whole group on edge. Charlie reached for her gun, Bass moving behind her, doing the same, in what had become a natural reaction for the both of them.

Instead of the expected trouble, Charlie looked directly in the face of her uncle, appearing from behind a tree, who pulled it off to look almost amused.

'Take it easy,' Miles held his hands up in an almost too casual mocking way.

'Hold your fire!' Her voice was sharp while Charlie turned around to the men behind her. Both Bass and Connor put their guns away.

Rachel followed Miles out of their hiding place, her eyes, filled with relieve and curiosity, aimed at Charlie.

'You look terrible.' She told her daughter, with a kind smile.

'So do you,' Charlie answered, with a small smile on her own. She had worst greeting moment with her mom.

Or maybe not. Because Charlie watched her mother's gaze go over her shoulder and to the men who had travelled with her back to Willoughby. She saw her mother's face change, tension forming in her face and around her lips. Charlie knew her mother well enough to know that there was something smouldering in her mind.

'So much for coming in stealth? I could hear you coming from a mile away.' Miles had walked to Bass.

'Yeah, well, we are not exactly travelling light,' His words sounded tired.

'You know, we could use at least twice as many guys' Miles looked at the guys behind him.

'Yeah, well, we were lucky to get them.' Bass mind was drawn back to Vegas. They were all very lucky to get out of there fucking alive.

'All right, I was sure you were going to screw us over, but I will give you this one, you did all right.'

Bass had to fight the urge to punch Miles straight in the face. Dick.

'First of all, suck it.' He paused for a second, watching Charlie who was walking in their direction. Fuck, she looked hot. Tanned golden skin, a hint of challenge in her eyes aimed at him, messy blonde locks falling around her face and lips he wished he could devour right on the spot. 'Second of all, it wasn't me. It was your niece.'

Charlie walked towards her uncle and Bass when she heard his words. Miles had turned his head towards her. Bass was not sure if he was surprised at her actions or the fact that Bass gave her credit for it. To be honest, even with wounded pride, she deserved it. He wanted Miles to know.

She walked over to her men and told them to follow, shooting Bass one more look when she gave her orders to her man.

One hour later they had settled down at their new safe house. It was an abandoned run down building near a broad and fast streaming river. The rugged landscape and trees in it hid them from unwanted eyes.

Charlie had just gotten some buckets of fresh water with Connor. Finally she was able to sit down with a plate of semi hot food. Connor passed her, firewood in his hands. She had to admit, he was finally starting to do some less attitude and some more work. Her eyes went from him to her mother, who was watching her again, standing not far away from her.

'What?' She shot her mother a look, trying to figure out what was going on. Rachel said nothing, and walked away. Charlie let out a small sigh of frustration before she turned her attention back on the food.

Her muscles ached after days and days of walking and it was nice to feel something inside of her stomach again. It was not long before Miles joined her.

'Hey kid, I heard,' he nodded at Bass who was sitting close to the water, not far away from them, 'you did good in Vegas.'

Charlie looked at Bass for a moment and then back at her uncle with a grin on her face. It was the first time Bass had given her credit for anything. She was surprised and amused at the same time. Within minutes she was catching up with Miles, while she filled him in on the events of Vegas. Well, not on all of the events, some things she just did not wanted to talk about. When she reached the part where she talked about the dogfight and what Bass had been willing to do for Connor, she watched how Miles face changed, and he narrowed his eyes a little bit.

'What the hell, so maybe he IS getting a nice father of the year coffee mug for his birthday this year.' He said with his usual sarcasm, still facing Bass.

After they talked some more, her uncle actually laughing at the part where Charlie told him about what Duncan did and Bass face right after that, Miles got up, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword while he stood before her.

'Well kid, this might be a first in a very long time. But I have to agree with that moron. You did good.' He gave her a fast wink which Charlie returned with a small on her own.

Miles was not surprised to hear Charlie stayed to get the idiot out of the situation he got himself into.

He did not know how, but something unspoken happened between Bass and his niece. Charlie never told him what happened, but she had told him Bass did save her life on their way back to Willoughby. And when he had found out it was Charlie that asked Rachel to spare Bass his life when Texas wanted to execute the hell out of him, he knew his niece well enough to know she had her reasons. Good reasons. Bass seemed to really have Charlie's back and that realisation was what caused him to let Charlie join Bass and his kid, well, that was still all kinds of weird to think about, to Vegas.

He knew Bass would watch out for her.

He knew Charlie might not understand, how could she, she did not spent years and years with Bass, how much Bass seemed to respect her. Miles knew Bass literally shot people for the way Charlie was talking to him, never stopping being in his face with truths and smart words. And yet, no matter what his very stubborn niece seemed to throw in his face, the moron never ever hurt her. Miles doubted he ever would.

When Miles walked away, Charlie noticed he was lost in his own thoughts. She turned her attention back to the bowl of food, the bottom of the bowl, to her regret, already in sight. Then something else caught her attention. Her mother. Her mother a little bit uphill, walking away from her.

He could not believe what the fuck was happening right in front of him. Back in the building Rachel and the old man were questioning his prisoners. He was standing in front of Miles, the man he had been through hell and back with, having to listen to all kinds of bullshit.

It had been an already long day. First he had to listen to Miles bringing him up to speed about the fact that Neville, the son of a bitch again, was after his ass. The Patriots had his wife, he met her once and instantly did not like her, and Neville was willing to trade his dead body for her. To hell with that. Like that was going to happen.

Second, Miles had dragged him away ,apparently there were more important things today than preventing that Neville asshole to kill him, but hey, that was only his opinion. Miles dragged him on his feet only minutes after he had sat down on his ass to get some food, showing him a kid recruit patriot boot camp. A kid patriot recruit boot camp with some hell of a ammunition supply closet. Well, at least that was good news, they really could use that. While he was laying next to his brother, rocks in not so comfortable places, scouting the camp and keeping a low profile, it almost felt like old times.

Many decades ago he had been with his brother, hiding in tall grass like they were doing now, pretending they were up against some kind of pretend enemy with pretend weapons on summer days that never seemed to end. Man, did that feel like a joke now. The lightness of that sharp memory was something he pushed away immediately, burying it deep under the weight of the years that had passed since then.

On their way back to the safe house, while he could not hide his pride of Connor's fighting skills in Vegas, they had found two patriot recruits, who were following them. Following them and doing a very lousy job. They had brought them back and now he was standing here in front of Miles, instead of getting some good old information from those kids.

'Now what, now I can't even interrogate my own prisoners?' Irritation was written all over his face, while he was trying to talk some reason into his brothers head.

'Gene and Rachel can handle this.' Miles answered.

Bass almost snorted at Miles words. Sure Miles , hypocritical bitch and her traitor let's be best buddies with the patriots dad could handle this.

'That should be me in there,' Bass pointed to the building behind them. 'Getting information we need to beat those assholes. If we want to win this, it has got to be me and you.' He was not able to hide his irritation anymore. He was done with this bullshit conversation.

'We are here to win this, right?' Bass narrowed his eyes at his brother.

Before Miles was ready or able to answer that question there was movement behind him back in the building, he could see it through the shattered windows. He saw Connor getting up from a flight of stairs, followed by Charlie. They were already walking towards the old man and Rachel, who were moving the recruits.

Within seconds they all stood together. He was facing the old men, Rachel not far behind them. Those patriot recruits behind her. Charlie was standing on his right.

'Gene, what are you doing?' Miles wanted to know, his tone indicating that he clearly was not amused.

'They are children, they don't know anything. We are bringing them home.' He answered in a firm tone.

Charlie could see the hint of doubt on Miles' face. She herself was not so sure that they were just children, something warned her deep in her gut.

'The hell you are,' Bass voice was a low rumble, frustration rushing through his face and body. 'They will give away our position.'

Did he have to spell out fucking everything? He was trying so god damn hard to stay calm, trying to convince everybody what the hell would happen if they would continue this tea party.

'Then we will get another position. We are not leaving them here with YOU.' Rachel's icy ices met him. Okay, maybe he was fucking done with the staying calm approach.

That's right you dumb bitch, Bass thought, let's just leave Miles out of this, because as always, I'm the bad guy here, let's just forget what the fuck Miles used to do. It made his blood boil already.

Charlie had crossed her arms before her chest, she saw her mother's deathly stare, she could feel Bass silent rage building up, her grandfather's determination, she could feel the tension radiating from Bass' body, she saw Connor's dark eyes aimed at her mother, she felt Miles his inner conflict. She knew things were getting out of hand. It was not a question if things were getting out of hand. They just would. And fast. She was still standing close to felt the shift within him.

'I am not letting you leave,' Bass voice was filled with deep warning. Sharp aggressive lines in his face.

'Then why don't you shoot us?' It was Gene. And it was the last push Bass needed.

Bass almost launched himself at Gene, grabbing him at his jacket, while the old man was very lucky he did not go directly for his throat.

Charlie had closed the distance between her and Bass in an instant, just like Miles. She did not even think about it. One hand found its place on his arm, the other hand found its way on his back. The leather of his jacket was cool under her fingers. She could feel his hard muscles under the fabric. She was not sure if she was making sure he would not rip her grandfather apart or whether she tried to calm Bass down. It was probably both.

'You really think I won't old man huh?' His blue eyes wide and shooting fire, absolute rage raging through his body. He had fucking enough of this.

'Hey,' Miles shouted, 'everybody put your junk away.' He grabbed Bass and pushed him away from Gene. Charlie let go of Bass jacket.

'Mom,' she could still see the aggression all over Bass his face, his stare still fixed on Gene, 'we need this information. I don't like this either, but we need to know what we are up against, or else we will never beat them.'

Bass still felt enraged, but for the second time within five minutes he could not believe what the fuck what was happening right in front of him. Charlie Matheson was agreeing with him and not keeping her mouth shut about it . He knew she had agreed with him and Miles the moment she and Connor had followed Miles order to tie down those recruits. But seeing her facing Rachel like this. Holy hell.

'Will you listen to yourself Charlie?' Rachel replied. 'Are you agreeing with him?' Rachel pointed her cold eyes to Bass.

For the first time Charlie felt stuck somewhere between Bass and Miles. She hated to make this kids prisoners, but she also was practical enough, she had learned enough, saw too much to know they needed information, something that would tip the scale in their favour. She knew Miles felt the same, but she also felt how much he was stuck between her mother and Bass. Anyway, she was done keeping quiet.

'I think we really need more information.' She raised an eyebrow at her mother and put her hands before her chest.

'Charlie, sweetheart,' Gene interfered, 'this is not you, I know it isn't.'

She still felt Bass standing behind her, she had not looked at him but she felt he was there.

'First you save him in Vegas,' so her mother had been listening in on her previous conversation with Miles, ' and now you are defending him?' What is happening to you Charlie? I don't recognise you, this is not you.' Her mother's tone was soft, but also on edge, the way only her mother could.

'Are you freaking serious right now mom?' She had almost screamed those words at her mother. It was like she was pushed back in time, standing in front of her mother again, trying to make her understand what was going on in her life. And of course again, it was about him. It was about Monroe. Old hurt and frustration reached the surface.

This time she was losing her temper, and fast. She stepped closer to her mother, placing herself in right before Bass and next to Miles, her grandfather at her other side.

'What is happening to me? That's what you are asking me? Seriously?' This time her words were filled with anger while she did not look away from her mother. ' What is happening here is that I am fighting, fighting through yet another day.'

She felt everybody's eyes on her. She couldn't care less.

'And that is because you, dad, the both of you left me no choice.' Her words were harsh. She heard her mother gasp for air. She felt the shift in Miles. She felt Connor's eyes on her.

'You know where I should be? In college. You know where I should be? Somewhere far away from here. Europe, Africa, I don't' care. Anywhere. Figuring out what I want out of this life. Building a life for myself.'

She cursed at herself for the way her voice was breaking. She forced herself to gain control.

'Did you ever think about that? You, dad, you were part in throwing this world back in time. It was my family that had a part in that. I see the fall out of your decisions every day, all around me. So yes, I fight, because I feel I don't get to stop fighting. And yes, I am not that girl anymore you left at the side of the road. But don't you attack me for adapting to this world and wanting to fight.'

' I told you before, you think you are always right, but don't you attack me for having an opinion myself.'

'Charlie, I just don't understand. You are sounding more and more like him, and you put your own life on the line for him.' The way her mother pronounced the word him was adding more to her anger.

Charlie could not bear to listen to any of her words. 'What I did in Vegas was my decision, MY decision and mine alone. You were not there. Yes, I decided to get him out and you know why? Because I told you before, he saved my life. He is fighting with us now. That's why.'

She stared her mother in the eyes.

'You always, always make it about him. I understand there is history there and that what happens here is always in that context. But this is not about him, this is about me. About me and you and the fact that you are never willing to listen to me. And I had enough.'

Charlie felt how the energy left her body, how her muscles felt heavy. She started to move away from her mother.

'Charlie, don't you...' Rachel began, taking a step towards her daughter.

'Rachel, let her go,' Charlie heard Miles strong voice filled with warning aimed at her mother behind her, while she walked towards the water, putting as much distance between her mother and herself as she could right now. Leaving the rest of the group behind. When she was close to the river she leaned into a wall, her head resting against the bricks. She stubbornly fought back tears.

She had enough. She had enough of her mother, her grandfather for that matter too, attacking her, for trying to survive yet another day. She had enough of them not understanding why she was fighting. She knew she was not the same anymore, she felt she was changing, that she was thinking more the way Miles and even Bass did.

And here they were again, her mother attacking her because she had made a decision to get Bass out of Vegas instead of walking away.

This man had her head spinning on a daily basis, he could be arrogant, smug, crude and yes, the General she met once in Philadelphia was still there. The past was still there.

But here was what she did know for sure when it came to Sebastian Monroe. She remembered him, just like she remembered Miles. He once was her family too. He had saved her life. And see was starting to see more and more truth in his words, words he had spoken to her in that abandoned swimming pool. You don't know me Charlotte.She owed him for her life and although she was not sure where the road would take them, he was still unpredictable, there was something in him that spoke to her. Somewhere along the road she had decided to give him a chance, just like she had given Miles.

She felt the coolness of the river not far away from her radiating towards her face, and she took a deep breath while she was standing still against the brick wall behind her.

At the other side of the building Bass had another one of his really want to kill the bitch moments, there seemed to be a lot of them today, when he looked into Rachel's challenging and cold eyes, full of blame when they found his.

He had seen it from the first day Charlie had brought him back at the old mill. If Rachel wanted to be a bitch to him, by all means, but they way she was lashing out to Charlie. Fuck. Did she really did not see her own kid struggle?

When Charlie had disappeared from sight Bass had to fight a strong urge to follow her.

Her words, her vulnerability he never saw before like this, did more to him then he wanted to admit, and to hell if he was going to show that right now. He put his hands in his pockets, and fixed his eyes on the building before him.

He remembered a small blonde girl, full of energy, laughter and stubbornness, that would meet him at the front door, a small warm hand in his. She was ready to take this world by storm with her intelligence and brightness. Instead, she was here, forced to fight this fight, that brightness from years long ago slowly fading. Stuck here with all of them in a world her family singlehandedly had broken down to the hell and where he took so much from her, from the little that was still left, while she should be anywhere but here, in every meaning of that word. And yet, she was still fighting.

He remembered her trusting eyes. He remembered the way she had sat down next to him, lost in a book, that was almost too big for her to carry . He remembered how she had fallen asleep against his arm, a blush on her cheeks after a good day, her face relaxed, her tiny hand grabbing his arm in her sleep. Miles had watched him with amusement while he came back from the kitchen, two cold beers in his hand, while he handed him one.

He wondered if she remembered him, he wondered if she realised he had been there before. That once, he was a different man. They were different, in a world that seemed worlds away today near this river.

From a distance he heard the first shot. The shot went straight through his thoughts. And then there was another one. Miles was yelling to find cover. His mind went into battle mode, hands on his weapons, finding his son with his eyes, scanning their surroundings, deciding their strategy with one look at Miles. And then, there was the sound and blast of an explosion in the building right in front of him. The building Charlie just disappeared behind. He followed Miles shocked gaze towards the sound of the explosion and both men thought the same. Within seconds bullets were flying through the air and both him and Miles were shouting orders.

Chapter Text

The barrel of a gun

Bass looked directly in the barrel of the gun. Behind that barrel was a set of cold blue eyes that made his blood run cold. He had watched how she aimed the gun at him, without hesitation.

Fuck, was this really happening?

His mind was racing. So here he was, Tom fucking Neville standing next to her, a gun in his hand too. And by the look of things, she meant business. Neville took one step forward, but still kept his distance from him.

'Well, sir,' mocking cold sarcasm dripping from every spoken word, 'This is not uncomfortable at all.' Neville said while he shot him an evil grin.

One hour before

It was not like Charlie did not understood her mother. Both Miles and Bass had done things, crossing lines so far Charlie was not sure which words to use for it. Charlie knew she had been changing, she knew she was thinking more and more likes Miles, like Bass.

She had become a fighter, a warrior. It had started the moment she got on the road to Philly. No, it had probably started way before that.

And Charlie knew that she was supposed to live a different life, far away from the battle, far away from the daily struggle to survive. The grieve for the loss for something she would never know, without being sure what that something was, what it would be, what it could give her, was always with her. Her life should be different, but so should this whole world. That was her families legacy, and for that, she felt like she was not the one who could stop fighting.

Charlie let out a deep sigh and tuned in to the sound of the water of the river before her. She knew she had to get back soon, but for now, she closed her eyes and gave herself a scarce minute alone. She watched the sky above her change colour, night was falling.

It was not like she did not understood that being a parent was about wanting what was best for your child. At ten years old she had gotten a glimpse of that deep primal rooted feeling of wanting to protect. It happened when she had to watch her mother walk away from her. From her, from Danny and her father, her mother getting smaller and smaller when there was more distance between them on that silent path in the woods. Panic, not understanding and tears fighting to be felt first.

It had been the day she had walked out of her life and the weight of being responsible to take care of Danny had been placed on her shoulders. Like all the things Charlie did, she did it with conviction and dedication. She watched over hem, got her brother through another night, never letting him out of her sight. It had been her job, her task and it had been until the day she had to let him go.

Now she was reaching an age, where she could reflect more on that part of her life, she was starting to understand it was a task that should have never landed on her shoulders. But how was she ever going to make her mother understand this, when the only things Rachel seemed to understand was the weight of the years she had missed with her son? She knew Bass had wanted her father for information, but her mother had been the one to go. She had never asked her, or Miles, but she started to understand that it was probably Miles, already then, that was part of that particular decision her mother made.

Wanting what was best for your child included that fighting this losing battle against the patriots was probably not one of those things a mother wanted for her daughter. But Charlie felt there was no other choice.

She knew how very sick Danny had been, she knew her mother was a fighter too. But the decision to save her brother, had meant leaving her in a world where there were only two options right now, the way she saw it. Fight or not fight. And she was stubborn, strong, there was Matheson blood running through her veins and that all meant only the first one was an option.

Most of all, the thing she did not seem to be able to make her mother see, was the fact the she never felt seen for her. Before she could even try to make her mother understand what was happening to her, they had found themselves at other sides of the discussion.

She could talk to Aaron, he had even been there for her the night Bass was executed. He had just stood beside her on the square, no judgement, no questions about why she had been there or why she had to fight back devastating tears when the town bell had rung, knowing Bass, Monroe, was not in her world anymore.

She knew Miles was there, although he was not the most talkative Uncle but he was there nonetheless. She had even found herself more and more at a place where she even felt Bass understood her, saw her.

But she felt, she could not talk to her mother, not really talk, not without feeling like she mattered, not without feeling truly accepted.

Looking back Charlie did not know what hit her first. The blast of an explosion trembling through the building behind her and the brick wall she was standing against or the deafening sound of it reaching her eardrums. Darkness was zooming in on her, while she faintly heard screams in the distance mixed with the sounds of battle.

The first thing she felt when she regained consciousness was dirt on her face, the coolness of the ground on her skin. The first thing she heard was a deep voice that filled her with hate and nausea at the same time.

Get up, she told herself, get up now.

'Well, Miss Matheson, so we meet again. How very delightful.'

When she pushed herself away from the ground and opened her eyes she looked directly in the face of Tom Neville.

Bass found himself in the middle of battle, yet again. They were under attack, damn Patriots, again. He had exchanged one look with Miles, and both men had laid out their strategy within seconds, both disappearing into opposite directions.

He was firing and fighting his way through the kaki wall of attack, his mind on two things. Kill those sons of bitches and make sure both Connor and Charlie were safe. He made his way towards and up a flight of stairs, getting to higher ground and the steel bridge above him that would make a great point to work on his plan to kill each and every one of those assholes. Where the hell was his kid?

And where the hell was she? Still no Charlie in sight. He cursed at himself for not following her. She should be here at this side in full blown warrior mode, blonde hair flying through the air, while she killed with him with a precision that he loved so damn much about her.

He was crouched behind some large crates in the middle of the bridge. He had just spotted Truman, the fucking coward was actually wearing a bullet proof vest.

Bass was reloading his gun, when he heard the low sound of his voice. His gut had already told him he would be here, and that must mean the Neville kid was probably close as well.

'Goodnight, General.' The sound of his traitor voice already set Bass on edge. He should have shot him a long time ago.

Within a second Bass finished reloading his gun and had turned around., hand around his gun, gun faced to the son of a bitch. He felt how air escaped through his lips at the sight in front of him.

He had expected to see him, but he had not expected to see her. Another shot of adrenaline was pumped into his bloodstream.

'Well, sir,' mocking cold sarcasm dripping from every spoken word, 'this is not uncomfortable at all.' Neville said while he shot him an evil grin, his gun aimed at him, while he looked at Bass.

Bass shifted his eyes away from Neville and looked directly in the barrel of another gun. Behind that barrel was a set of cold blue eyes that made his blood run cold. He had watched how she aimed the gun at him, without hesitation.

Fuck, was this really happening?

His mind was racing. So here he was, Tom fucking Neville standing next to her. Not one but two guns plastered at his face. And by the look of things, she meant business. He could hear Miles words filled with sarcasm that it was not exactly an ideal situation. No shit Miles. Neville took one step forward, but kept his distance from him.

'Tom, you son of a bitch,' Bass started.

'Language General, there are ladies present. You always were such a gentleman with the ladies after all, am I right?' Neville's face changed within less than a second, the cold grin falling from his face, and cold harsh hate appeared to replace that. 'How much fun this little reunion of ours might be, let's get to business shall we. I am here to kill your sorry ass and drag your soon to be very cold and dead body with me. And what do they say? There is no better time than the present?'

Neville moved his finger, about to pull trigger in a slow but determined movement.

'You promised me this kill, Neville.' Her voice was cold, distant, and when her words reached Bass, it was like somebody punched him right in his gut. ' You promised me I would finally get what I could not finish before. His life, his life for everything he took away from me.'

Bass watched in horror how Charlie aimed the gun at this forehead , and how her eyes had reached a place of complete and utter focussed deadly hate.

Charlie had forced herself to get up. The blast of the explosion had crushed her to the ground, had reached every single part of her body. But this was not the moment to feel any kind of pain, this was not the moment to show any kind of weakness, or to lose her focus on him for one second. Because this was Tom Neville. And he had been towering over her, only a couple of feet away. He had shot her a fake smile, a smile he had perfected, that had made her stomach fill with coldness.

'What do you want Neville?' Her tone had been even, but her heart had been racing when she had stood before him. Charlie had felt her knife on her hip, her gun glued to the skin of her back but she had known neither of them would help her fight Neville. She would try, she would give him everything she had but for now, she had told herself to stay calm and find another way out.

'Well, Miss Matheson, maybe you can help me out here. I am looking for General Monroe. Apparently he is fighting with your little group over here these days.' He had taken one slow step closer to her. 'I am here to end that son of a bitch. Anything you would be interested in? Or are you just like your pathetic uncle, protecting Monroe's ass after everything he did to your family?'

Charlie had felt more and more anger forming inside of her body at his words. Neville had spoken to her like he never had part in anything that ripped so much away from her. Unless Bass, this man had never showed her any other side than hate, death and betrayal. She had taken one step closer to the tall man in front of her.

Neville had shot her a questioning look, while instead of walking away from her, she had taken a step towards him.

Charlie had done the one thing she could think off right smart.

'What do you think Neville? After what Monroe did, after what he took from me, I am going to stand in front of you and defend him?' She had never even blinked, she had told herself to look him straight in the eye and had overruled the part of her brain that was filled with the disgust that was rising at the back of her throat at her own words with sheer stubbornness.

'Finally a Matheson I can work with,' Neville had nodded at her. She was not sure he had believed her, but for now, she was alive, she had bought herself some time.

Neville had looked at her again, his focussed eyes on her, considering her words.

'I will walk you straight to him,' Charlie had paused, fighting the tremble out of her voice. When she had spoken again her words were deadly and determined and she had not even recognised her own voice. 'There is only condition.' Her heartbeat quickened even more. ' I get to pull the trigger.'

' Miss Matheson, I am delighted to hear that.' He had paused for a moment and had nodded at her to follow him. He had turned his head back to her one more time. His words low and dangerous when he had spoken again.

'I don't have to tell you, that if you make one wrong move, things will not end well for you.' Charlie had kept her back straight at his words, but inside her there had been a wild storm of anticipation and dread.

And now Charlie was standing here in front of Bass who was equally General Monroe at this point.

She was standing in front of him, her weapon aimed at his head, telling herself to keep her arm straight, not to tremble, not to move one inch. Neville was standing to her right, just before her. If she wanted to pull this off, if she wanted to make Neville truly believe she was going to do this, she had to go back to that place, she had to go back to that night in Vegas. She was taken aback by her own voice, by the coldness in it, by the hate in it.

'You promised me this kill, Neville. You promised me I would finally get what I could not finish before. His life, his life for everything he took away from me.' She never looked away from Bass, and by the look in his eyes, she was doing a believable job. It tore her apart from the inside. She had not yet pulled the trigger, but looking at the devastation in his eyes, as far as he was concerned, she already had.

Now she had spoken words to him, that were once true. One day, not so long ago, she had wanted him dead. She had pulled the trigger herself, hiding behind a trailer in Vegas, her crossbow in her hands, an arrow fllying through the air, after she had found him fighting in a warm tent. She had failed to end his life then, but nevertheless, that was what she had wanted, wanted him dead.

Bass looked from Neville to Charlie. Everything that had happened between them, seemed to have evaporated.

Every second of Charlie standing in front him, Bass was not sure what ripped him to hell more, her gun aimed at him or her cold eyes aimed at his. He felt more like the man he was not so long ago, before the tower, before Charlie had marched back into his life. He had to, it was the only dark way to deal with whatever the fuck was what happening here. Another barrel of a gun, another Matheson. Images of waking up in a dark room to his best friend holding a gun to his head, were not letting him go. His brother, his family, everything he had left.

So everything that had happened between him and her, it did not matter anymore. He was not sure it had meant one damn thing. And part of him knew she had so much to still blame him for. Part of him understood. Part of him knew that it had been too good to be true. But a small part of him had hoped, that whatever the hell seemed to have shifted between him and Charlotte, had true meaning, had been real.

Her body in his arms, the look in her eyes, her surrender to his touch. Little moments, they way he had tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and she had let him. The way she fought with him, and even seemed to fight for him when the time came. The way they had once sat on a couch in front of a fire in that small house, spending hours way she had straddled him, her smooth naked skin to his body when they had gotten lost in each other. The way he felt when he was around her, the way he had found something from himself back with her.

The book she was still keeping in her bag.

And at that moment, Bass saw something in Charlie's eyes that should not be there. It flared through her icy look, it reached him over her words she had just spoken.

Charlie took a small step back, and just when Neville had sensed her movement, Charlie changed the direction of her weapon. It went from Bass to Neville's head in one precise movement. Challenge and fire were back in her eyes.

Neville's reaction to Charlie was the one second and all the room Bass needed. He launched himself at Neville, knocking the gun out of his hand, his face filled with deadly force.

Neville crashed into the banister of the steel bridge.

'If it is between your wife's life and mine, screw the bitch.' Bass threw in Neville's face, his words a low rumble with he knowledge why the son of a bitch was here, Miles told him, and there was just no way that Tom fucking Neville would get his way.

At that moment bullets were flying just over their heads, barely missing them.

He locked eyes with Charlie. 'Go,' Bass growled at her.

Both him and Charlie stayed low, firing back at the surrounding patriots, around and under the bridge, while they they made their way of the bridge. Charlie felt how close Bass was behind her. They heard Miles screaming in the distance to pull back. They were outnumbered, and staying would mean certain death at this point. There was no way they could win this. Not with the force those patriots were attacking them, not with the amount and type of weapons they had.

They both ducked behind a rusty car, using it for much needed cover. Charlie was so very close to him, they were side against side. When another rain of bullets flew past them, he did not even think when he covered her body with his, his hand protecting her head.

Charlie's whole body was humming with adrenaline. She still not realised completely she made it out of Neville's claws. She was alive. He was alive. For now. But she could not get the devastated and hurt look she saw in Bass his eyes out of her head.

When she heard more bullets coming their way, she felt how Bass covered her, she felt his broad chest wrapping itself around her body. She felt the weight of his body on her own.

She ended up in the crook of his neck, her face against his chest. For a second the sounds of the battle around them faded, the world was more still, she was shoved against him, his hand wrapped around her head. She took in the scent of his leather jacket, his adrenaline and sweat. If Miles was Whiskey, Bass his scent was leather and fight.

The moment seemed to stretch out before everything went up to full speed around her. They both started firing again when they started to move again.

Right before him, Bass saw Connor fighting with the Neville kid. He watched how his kid got beaten to the ground with another blow. He launched himself at yet another Neville. To be honest if was not only about getting his kid out. Hell, this was the Neville kid who had been walking after Charlie like a pathetic puppy. And probably done a whole lot more Bass really did not wanted to think about. Bass had read the reports when Charlie was still out there with Miles, trying to reach Philly. That knowledge helped with his motivation to the whole kicking the Neville's kid's ass.

He grabbed Connor by his coat, and dragged his kid up the hill before them. Charlie was running before them, while they all passed Miles who gave them cover. Miles fired the last shots behind them, before the whole group ran into the nearby woods for cover.

Chapter Text

One summer night, Charlie and Bass have to share a small house when spending time on the road together. Charlie challenges Bass, but she just did not expect he would accept the challenge. They give in to each other on a dark night, a moon in the sky, in the moonlight in the small kitchen and in front of the fire of that small house in the woods. And not just that, Charlie opens up to Bass in a way she did not expect, after she finds a travel book in another safe house, where they have to spend more time together because of a storm outside.

Bass sees a different side of her, the one that is deeply hurt because of what her parents did to the world, the one that aches to travel and have a life on her own. Later, when Bass leaves for Mexico to find his kid, together with Miles and Rachel, Charlie finds he has put that book in her bag. She keeps it. Bass finally finds his son, and ends up in another hateful argument with Rachel. The one things he likes to do is to give her a piece of his mind, tired of her self-righteousness. But he know she will use this one thing from their past, he can see it in her eyes, the way she challenges him to cross a line so she can give a version a truth that is not even true.

Bass, Connor and Charlie leave for Vegas not much later, to get more men they need for their fight against the Patriots. They end up in a tent, meeting Duncan Paige. Charlie gets injured, when she tries to save both Bass and Connor's life. Bass thinks, as a misunderstanding, Charlie and Connor slept together. Vegas is intense.

When they return, Charlie ends up in an intense argument with Rachel, when their whole group faces each other. Bass has rage going through his veins because he can't reach Miles, he can't make him understand they are going to lose this fight, and he has enough of Rachel, of her lashing out to Charlie and her pretending that nothing is ever her fault.

When Charlie needs a moment to cool down, their camp is under attack. Neville finds her, and forces her to help him take Bass. To get herself, and Bass, out of that situation alive, Charlie has to make Neville believe she still feels all that hate for Bass, that she still wants to kill him. When Bass stares into the barrel of her gun, standing close to Neville, it is shaking him through his core. But then he catches her eyes, and he sees something in there that makes him understand what is happening. He gets himself, and Charlie, out of there alive. Together with Connor, who just has been attacked by Jason. Now, their whole group is on their way to find safety...

Charlie was exhausted. Exhausted from the long days on the road since they made their way back from Vegas. Exhausted from recovering from the wound on her arm that is finally healing. Exhausted from what she had been through in Vegas to get Bass and Connor out of there alive. Exhausted from arguing with her mother, defending herself over and over again.

Her body felt like hell, the blast of the explosion from earlier still causing her to ache. The adrenalin that had spread through her body, from the fight with her mother, from facing Neville, still leaving her nauseous and shaken up.

They had been walking for hours. Darkness of the night around them. She forced herself to stay alert, to keep her focus.

Bass was not behind her, or walking somewhere before her. In fact, he was not around her at all. She had, without even truly noticing, gotten used to him being around her. Now that he wasn't anymore, she felt the void around her.

She turned her head, finding him at the back of their group. Connor walking beside him. Both men looked like hell. Connor had one hell of a bruise around his left eye, from his fight with Jason.

Jason.

Now she had seen him again, she could feel how much things had changed between them. He used to be a guy she felt love for, for the first time. But know she had been with Bass, she knew it was nothing compared to the storm of feelings that Bass broke loose from her.

She noticed how Bass' face was harsh, tensed and when his eyes found hers for a moment, his normally deep blue eyes had turned into an almost black colour. She heard her own words resounding in her mind when she had her gun aimed at Bass, Neville's presence tall and a threat next to her.

You promised me I would finally get what I could not finish before. His life, his life for everything he took away from me.'

She remembered Neville's icy eyes, she remembered her heart pounding in her chest. And she had started to realise, those words were not true for her anymore. The moment they had left her mouth, she knew they were not the truth for her anymore. They once were. She had wanted Monroe dead. She had hated him beyond anything. But that was before, before she had gotten to know a different side of him, before she felt he actually understood her, before she had given in to him, his touch, his lips and he had took her over the edge so many times. That was before she realised she fought with him like she had almost done nothing else before. That was before she realised Bass fought for her, Bass kept her safe.

She stumbled over a small rock for a moment, and found her balance quickly.

'You okay, kid?' Miles checked, seeing the pale face of his niece. It had been a long night and they had to keep moving.

'Fine, Miles,' she said, flatly, when she kept on walking, not facing him.

She was so tired. Her mind was a chaos. But it was Bass' distant look, that made her want to talk to him, explain herself, explain to him why she had to do what she had to do when Neville ambushed her behind that building near the river after the explosion.

She needed to talk to him.

After a couple of more hours, Miles finally stopped the group. A small safe house stood before them, surrounded by a garden and a fence around that garden. It was almost dawn, a chill in the air. A couple of pale stars were still visible in the sky.

The exhaustion made her movements slow, and Bass was again, nowhere in sight. Charlie took her bag, not making eye contact with her mother or her uncle, and found a small bedroom on the first floor. She closed the door behind her and leaned back into it for a moment, shutting her eyes.

Then, without even removing her boots or jacket, she lay down on the small bed in the room. She pushed tears away she did not want to cry now. She fell asleep, with the first morning light coming through the windows.

Bass hardly slept. The image of Charlie, her gun aimed at him, next to Tom fucking Neville, haunting him. The argument between her and Rachel echoing in his head. Rachel's cold eyes on Charlie. The attack. Vegas. Fuck, everything was a big giant mess.

He knew Charlie had tried to find him with his eyes, on their long nightly walk to their new safe house, but he could not meet her eyes for long. He had to look away. He had to put distance between him and her. When he saw her stumble, her shoulders low with fatigue, his first instinct had been to speed up and ask her if she was all right. But Miles had checked on her, and he kept his place next to Connor.

He damn well knew Charlie had to find a way out when Neville had gotten his hands on her, he had seen in her eyes how much it had hurt her to say the words she had chosen.

Maybe for Neville, she had done a believable job, but when he saw the hurt and despair flashing though her blue eyes, he had known. The reason why he was not able to answer the look in her eyes, her plea to reach him in that look, was because her words were like a bucket of cold water.

You promised me I would finally get what I could not finish before. His life, his life for everything he took away from me.'

Fuck,  he had taken so much away from her.

Charlie had gotten under her skin. He had felt raw desire for her. He had saved her life. He had gotten to know her. Had started to respect her for her skills and loyalty. Had not believed she saw something in him that was worth saving, when Charlie had asked her family to save his life. He had been with her, tasted her, taken her. He knew how her face looked when she would let go in his arms.

And from that day she had opened up to him, from the day he had seen a glimpse of a vulnerable Charlie, a Charlie with deep hurt for the life she would never live as her own on that rainy afternoon in that house where it was just the two of them on the road, he had started to care for her.

But, damn it, he was still who he was. The past a giant rift keeping them apart. He had her for a moment, but know he started to believe he was a fool for believing he could be with her. He knew what he had done. He cared for her and for that reason he had distanced himself from her.

He got up from the small couch that had been his bed for the past couple of hours and stretched his neck. He put his hand through his scruff and walked outside, needing some air.

Bass let out a sigh in frustration. He had just gotten into one hell of a discussion with Miles about their approach with the recruit patriot kids. Miles had let them go, when Bass had other plans. He was frustrated beyond anything. Both those kids would be on their way back to Truman right now, to expose their position. He was so fucking done with running, hiding.

Apparently this was some kind of theme week, with everyone whining about what they were fighting for.

When he was about to walk back into the house and had asked himself how on earth this afternoon could get any better, he got his answer. Rachel stood on the porch, between him and the door. Focussed icy blue eyes shooting at him.

'You stay the hell away from my daughter,' she hissed at him.

'What the hell, Rachel?'

'I know Miles think it was all right to let her go with you to Vegas, but I know you. You are poison, Bass. My daughter thinks she has to fight this fight with you. But it will not take long before she realises, that giving you a chance is one big mistake.'

She stepped closer to Bass, tilting her chin. ' I had to listen to Charlie, about her agreeing we needed those kids. I will not let you poison her with you sick twisted ideas. She is only 22, she should not be here. She should not do this.'

Bass huffed, rage forming on his face.

'You are right Rachel, so very right.' He could not believe the hell she was saying, when he took a step forward to her. 'Charlie should not be here. And who's fault is it, that she is not in College right now? That she is not out there, away from all this bullshit, seeing the world through her own eyes?' His voice was filled with steal.

He saw Rachel flinch, a nervous twitch around her mouth.

It was Connor that came from the house and stopped the conversation when Rachel threw him one last look of loathing, before she walked away from him.

The living room was empty. It was a late afternoon, and it had been two days since the attack on their safe house near the river. Charlie walked in, prepared to go hunting, when she stood in front of Bass. He was about to walk past her, when she stopped him, his back turned to her. She was done with the silence between them.

'What? So, we are just going to ignore each other now?' Her voice was sharp.

She watched how Bass was fidgeting with his boot, touching something on the floor that was not even there. She saw the hesitation and decided to dive in.

'Those words, I spoke to you when Neville was standing next to me were once the truth for me. I wanted you dead. It became everything I focussed on after the Tower. It became my mantra.' Her voice filled the room, 'But you...you are not the man I thought you would be. You are so different. You became more than just Monroe to me.'

Bass pressed his lips in a thin line. Hearing her words meant the world to him, but he also knew it could not matter anymore. He hated her to be placed in the middle of all their crap from the past. Neville using her. Rachel lashing to her. He had made his decision.

'Charlie, I think you and I, whatever the hell this is, between you and me, has to stop.'

He could hear the sharp intake of her breath behind him, and when he turned around to face her, he watched the obvious hurt on her face.

'Well, I disagree.' She sounded stubborn, her blue eyes firing into his. 'Bass, don't do this, I did not mean to hurt you when I said those things..it was the only thing Neville would believe. Don't stop this because of him.'

Fuck, he could not take the hurt in her voice any longer.

'I know, Charlie...' he finally closed the distance between them, He cupped her head with one on his hands, and slowly brushed his thumb along her cheek, ' Hey, I know.' His voice sounded hoarse.

She had placed her forehead on his chest. Charlie felt the muscles of his body tense up. Bass whole face was tensed before he told himself to get a damn grip. He had to do this. For her.

'Did this not matter to you?' her voice against his shirt.

He swallowed a lump out his throat, his mouth close to her ear, his voice a low whisper when he spoke again. 'It did matter, Charlie. You have no idea. But I don't want to drag you into this, I don't want you to end up hurt. Too much has happened.'

'I won't stop fighting for you, Charlie. I will have your back, no matter what. But this, you and I, it will never work. I will only end up..'

Bass felt her tense up when she took a step away before he could finish his sentence. He was not sure if there was anger or hurt in her eyes. Both. He saw both.

'I understand,' her voice did not sound as her own, it sounded flat and distant. She did not understand. But she did want to let Bass see how hurt she was.

He was Monroe again. They were not whatever it was that they had become anymore.

She pushed her fingers into the palm of her hands to regain control. She looked at the wooden floor in front of her for a moment, and before she could think of anything else, his hand was on the back of her head,while he kissed her one more time.

She took in his scent, she felt his stubble. She felt his long deep sad kiss, while she let Bass ...Monroe...Bass kiss her one more time. His mouth covering hers completely and she felt the rough skin of his warm hand moving to her cheek. She kissed back, slowly.

And then he stepped away.

Before Charlie could think about leaving the stuffy living room, Bass had walked to the door and had let the screen door fall behind him.

That kiss did not feel like things were over, was all that echoed through her mind and heart, his taste still on her lips.

Chapter Text

The tension in the air had been was pressing on her all day. The sun had set a couple of hours ago and Charlie could see her own breath form into little clouds in front of her. She had zipped up her leather jacket, but still was far from warm. Not that she would complain. They had spotted fires in the distance, orange beacons of light on a dark horizon, when she was working with Connor to make sure the camp was secure.

They had decided to check out what was happening not far from their camp. Bass was ahead, her mother was following her and Connor. Her five men, the man she got from Duncan as a token of gratitude for saving her life, were close when they approached what seemed to be another camp.

Miles and her grandfather had disappeared from her line of vision this afternoon.

Earlier this day, Miles had woke her up somewhere around sunrise. Bass had been right. The patriot recruits must have found their way back to Truman, because their position was given away. Bass had done a check around the area, and he had came back to the safe house with a frustrated and angry fire in his eyes, irritation and a I told you so look written all over his face when he was silently buzzing with frustration. Charlie had seen the frown on Miles' face, realising that this was because they let the patriot recruits go. When Rachel had opened her mouth to say something Miles had called her name and given her we don't talk about this now face.

Charlie had felt the shift in her uncle. He was the same man that walked with her to Philly to get Danny, but at the same time, he had changed. She could feel the tension between her mother and him, and now the battle against the patriots intensified, so did that tension seem to escalate. She felt his battle, his doubt.

They needed to move. Again. Find another safe house. Again.

Charlie had pulled on her boots with a sigh, while she checked on her weapons. Their days seemed to get filled by hiding, moving from safe house from safe house. With arguments about what to do next.

Their days were turning into a long grey ones, where a step forward into a victory in their fight against the Patriot seemed endlessly far away. It made Charlie believe she was right, more than ever. They would not win this.

Bass was moody. Darker. Crude. Even around her. Miles was irritated. On edge. And her mom seemed to be around the both of them constantly to remind Miles that he was not Monroe. Her mother's focus seemed to lay on just that. Charlie was getting sick and tired of it al.

This morning, after they had left their safe house behind, Miles had been arguing with Bass on how to move forward until her grandfather had not been able to take any more from them. He told them he was going into to town to see if they could get help. Charlie realised it was a dangerous and stupid plan from the beginning. But she was not the one to step away and she had volunteered to go with him.

Bass had been standing on her left, and she had seen the tension running through his body. If it was concern for her or just plain irritation, she did not know. He had been fidgeting with his gun in his hand, his eyes filled with dark thunder and fixed on a point straight ahead when she had stepped up and told Gene she would go with him.

In the end it was Miles who told her to stay where she was, and that he would be the one that went with Gene to see what people they could gather for their fight.

Since their last kiss in the silent living room of their safe house, Bass and she had hardly shared a few words. It felt like they were thrown back in time. She could feel him slip away from under her fingers. He had distanced himself from her and if he talked to her at all, it was with a simple nod and blunt words.

It was like nothing happened between them, and with every day, she had felt her irritation grow. She distanced herself from him. She was questioning herself. Asking herself what she was thinking to let him see a part of her she kept away from everybody else. She felt exposed. She felt vulnerable. So, she straitened her shoulders, she held her head high and focussed on what had to be done.

They had approached the spot where the fires were burning, the fires they saw from the distance. She heard one of her men, Vincent, greet one of the man around the large fire in the open space. They seemed to know each other, when they started to great each other, when she was hissing at Vincent at what he was doing, but he was already meeting the guys in front of them.

Bass walked with him, his gun over his shoulder in a relaxed almost lazy way, his walk confident, his face filled with smug confidence. Charlie recognised one of the men she had met in Vegas in Duncan's camp. Scanlon. He walked over to Bass. They had stumbled upon the rest of Duncan's men and Charlie was looking around for Duncan herself.

'You're Duncan's men,' Bass looked at Scanlon.

'What's left of them,' Scanlon answered.

'Where's Duncan?'

Scanlon hesitated before he spoke. 'She's dead.'

The moment Scanlon told Bass she had been killed by the patriots, Charlie watched his face drop. She saw hurt in his eyes and she head to turn her head away from him.

'How?' His voice hoarse.

'Those dicks in kaki. That's how. The patriots.' Scanlon turned around, his eyes on the dead around them, 'we want blood.'

'Well, you came to the right place,' Bass had a rough determination in his words.

Scanlon filled him in on everything that had happened since he left Vegas. Duncan had told them about him, fighting against the patriots. It was the reason why they were here, trying to find Monroe.

'So, you are in charge of this little war party?' Bass asked Scanlon.

'I am, but I don't want to be. I make a damn good Indian, but I am no chief.'

Bass turned from Scanlon to Charlie, his lips pressed together in a smug way.

' Well, that makes sense. After all, you need a leader with experience,' His eyes met hers for the first time that day. His look a mixture of arrogance and challenge. His eyes locked with hers, before he let his eyes roam over her body with his lips pressed together and he looked away again.

He had not forgotten the look she had thrown in his face, after she had walked away from him with the men he thought Duncan would give to him the last time they were in Vegas. Charlie knew it.

Charlie stood across from him, distance between them. Connor was standing behind her, she could feel him looking at her, to Bass, and back at her again.

Charlie felt her blood boil when she tilted her head back, and her eyes shot fire at him. She felt the urge to physically hurt him. They were back where they had started.

'You came for Duncan, asking for men, you've got them.' Scanlon nodded at Monroe.

Charlie watched Bass standing in front of the blonde and younger men, Bass' lips curling into a short arrogant grin.

So, maybe, things between them were over. She felt old hate coming back now he was back to his old arrogant self. She could see the smugness radiating from him, now he had found men that were willing to follow him again. Scanlon's eagerness made her sick to her stomach.

It felt like the raw passion she felt for Bass, the energy when their bodies were pressed as one, his chest under her cheek when she had fallen asleep in his arms, the comfort he had given her on that rainy afternoon, the friendship and strange new bound she had felt when fighting alongside him had shattered right in front of her, like a mirror that broke in endless pieces when it hit the ground.

Bass sat on a flight of stairs, his sword in his hand. His fingers were resting on the cool metal. He heard the men and woman around him. They were moving out in fifteen. But those sounds faded.

Duncan was dead. The news had hit him hard and he had barely kept a straight face when Scanlon had told him the news. Fuck. Charlie had been standing close to him when Scanlon broke the news to him, and he had not been able to look her in the eyes, he had not been able to look at her face when he saw how Charlie bowed her head when she heard the news too, a small sigh escaping her throat. He could not take any of her sympathy for another of his losses. He couldn't.

Their last kiss was still on his mind, Charlie's lush lips soft against his. And damn it, he missed her. Missed her firing eyes, missed her close, missed how she felt around him, missed her. Charlie. But he had no idea in hell how to feel what he had started to feel for her after everything that had happened.

So, he went back to the way they were. He went back to the man he was not too long ago. They fought together, they tolerated one another. But no more. There could be no more. But fuck, he wished he could get a damn grip. When Charlie had volunteered to go on that messed up suicide trip with the old men, he had not been able to hide his concern for her stubbornness. He knew he could not say anything, but all he wanted to do was grab her by her arm, pull her close and talk the plan out of her head. Instead he had locked his jaws, looked straight ahead and tried to keep his cool.

They would leave soon, ready for an attack at the patriot training camp. He wanted revenge for Duncan, who was once a friend. But most of all, he was done with the waiting around bullshit. He was fucking done with listening to all the whining and discussing. Not too long ago, he used to run the show, not wait around for the old man and Rachel to question his every move. Not wait around for his brother, his best friend, to hold their lady parts and whine some more.

They would hit the camp. Hard.

He felt the familiar adrenaline pump through his body, when his mind shifted into battle mode. With his eyes focussed on the blade of his weapon in front of him, he filled himself with focussed concentrated rage he needed to feel, for the fight that was about to come. He welcomed it like an old friend, and it pushed everything else in his mind away.

Bass got up and walked over to his kid. They would fight this fight, together. He nodded at Connor.

'We are moving out,' Connor ordered with a loud voice. The group around them came together and followed them, determined faces, weapons ready.

Bass noticed Charlie was there too. He was not surprised.

Rachel was in his face again, while the whole group started to move in the direction of the patriot re-education camp that was their target for the night. 'Wait until Miles comes back,' she yelled at him.

He did not even bother to look at her, when he kept on moving. 'I've got the men I need Rachel, I don't have to listen to you anymore.'

Charlie was moving into a tent, the attack on the camp still going on with high intensity, although the shift on the field told her instinctively that they had the upper hand in the attack. Connor was close to her, while she only needed moments to tackle and kill a Patriot that they had found in the tent. One fluid movement with her knife, made the patriot fall dead on the floor inside the tent. Connor nodded at her, appreciation and respect for her skills in his eyes.

Charlie had followed Bass into this battle, simply because she knew something had to be done. This was war. War was bloody. War was hard. If they did not kill them, they would kill her, they would kill the people she cared about and they would take all the rest that was still there for them to take.

She had seen Bass a couple of times on the battlefield, moving between tents with speed, skill and deadly aim. The sounds of shots and screams outside the tent got more quiet and when she and Connor walked out of the tent, it was all over. The last patriots were being killed, when silence returned between the tent in the camp.

She was taking in the camp around her, the feel of blood on her face, her body filled with the high of the attack. And then she saw Bass. He was on her left, eliminating the last patriots, bullet by bullet. She knew there could no survivors.

But it was the look in his eyes, the disconnected empty and steal look in the blue eyes she got to know so well, that stopped her in her tracks. This was a man she once met in Philly. He looked eyes with her for a moment, whipping the blood and sweat from his face and nose with the back of his hand.

She felt no connection anymore when his eyes met hers, the look between them was hollow. She felt tears well up in her eyes, before she turned away from him and walked away. She could not be around him anymore.

She found a quiet place, away from the celebration, away from people raising their bottle's in Duncan's honour. Bottles of booze were being passed around, Scanlon was already close to Bass again. Connor and Bass shared a bottle, a proud look in Bass' face when he put his son's face in his hands with an approving nod.

She could not take it any longer. She found a place not far from camp, a bucket of water and a cloth in her hand to wipe the worst of the blood away from her face and hands. She was still whipping the blood from her hands, when Rachel found her.

'Who's blood is that, anyone we know?' Her mother's voice cut through the night air, judgement in her tone, 'Why did you go with them?'

'We had to hit that camp.' Charlie was still crouched down beside the bucket of water next to her.

'Why?'

Charlie was tired, sore. Tired of hearing her mother on her high horse. When she did not answer, Rachel talked again.

'So Monroe can get his Republic back?'

Charlie stood up, facing her mother. 'He is not getting his Republic back. Non of us are going to be alive for that long anyway. But until then, we keep on fighting and do everything it takes to win. I did not go for Monroe, I went for myself.'

It was the warrior in her, it was the part in her that did not just roll over and die. She knew it was not the whole truth, but after falling into an old pattern with Monroe, she had gone mostly for herself into this fight, to fight for what she felt was the right thing to do.

Rachel looked at her with big eyes, her face on her daughter.

'I'm sorry.'

'For what?'

' You watched me and Miles do awful things. How could you be any different than him and...'

Charlie let out a sharp intake of breath. Her voice edgy when she spoke.

'You need to stop. You need to stop right there, mom.' Charlie pushed the tremble in her voice away, 'You left. You left me standing at a road. You made me watch you leave. Then you come back, and you left me again when you had to go to the Tower. Told Miles to take care of me. Well, guess what mom, that's what he did. He trained me, made sure I can stand on my own. You are questioning me over and over again, why I fight, why I do what I do? Do you have any idea how that is for me?'

She kept her mother's gaze with her eyes, and she asked herself if her mother would ever understand those things that were important to her. If her mother could finally not make this about Monroe. It was cutting deep through her, that her mother thought her decisions were fuelled only by Monroe.

'Charlie, I...'

'Go,' Charlie said curtly, 'mom, just go.'

When Rachel finally left her alone, she threw the cloth back into the bucket and put her elbows on the fence before her, tilting her head down with fatigue and frustration. Did anybody out there realise what it took from her, to keep fighting this fight every day? With the chains of grieve and loss firmly around her chest? With the pressure on her shoulders, with death following her, almost catching her every single long endless day?

She thought that maybe, maybe he understood. That maybe, the man that she had come back to Willoughby with, he saw her. He understood her.

She felt isolated, restless, like there was a storm coming, like everything was slipping away through her fingers when the cold night air hit her face, the sounds and light coming from the camp before her. She could see how her grandpa and Miles walked into their camp from the north. They were alone. But they also were alive.

Not much later that night, a person from her past would walk into camp too, changing who she was forever.

One week later

Bass scanned the street around him. Miles was late. Charlie and the Neville kid were nowhere to be seen. The city had turned into chaos and they needed to get the hell out of here.

They ended up in Austin because right after their attack on the patriot re-education camp, they found intel that told them the patriots would take their newly trained cadets to Austin, to take down the Texan government, and kill the president. It that would happen, everything would be over. There would be nobody big enough to stop them anymore. Their only option was coming to this city to prevent that from happening.

They had stood around a fire, him, Miles, Scanlon and Charlie. Charlie. She had earned her way into these moments, moments where decisions had to be made. She had earned her place there. Not much later, Jason Neville had walked Connor into their camp at gunpoint, his son his ticket into their camp. Bass had watched how the Neville kid showed them his mark, tattooed in the inside of his eyelid and told them he wanted revenge for what those assholes had done to him. Fuck, he knew Tom Neville was probably not far away at that point, but if his son could come in handy, he would not hesitate to use him.

The kid had come in handy, giving them enough time to warn Blanchard and find another alley in him. The day had lead them into the heart of the city. Things had moved fast from that point. After Miles had shot the cadet that had tried to assassinate the Texan president, the crowd on the square had started running. Screaming, panic.

He had searched for Charlie with his eyes when the crowd had started running, but he had not been able to find her blonde curls and blue eyes in the crowd. They had agreed to meet back here, if everything would go to hell.

He saw Miles first. Charlie was at his side, but it took him less than a second to realise something was wrong. He grabbed Miles at his arm, getting his attention.

'We have got to get out of here, Miles.'

'We hit some bumps,' Miles said, a tone in his voice that put Bass on edge.

'Where's the Neville kid?' In the middle of his question he turned his eyes from Miles towards Charlie.

Miles did not answer him. Charlie did not look at him. Charlie's eyes were hollow. Blood streaming from her nose, the start of bruises visible on her face, marks around her neck. Bass felt how his breath hitched inside of his lunges when he let his eyes go over Charlie. Her eyes empty, her tank drenched in blood, clinging to the skin of her stomach. Miles arm was still firmly around her upper arm, holding her up.

He got his answer, when he saw her pale face, defeat in her eyes, numbness radiating from her. He had been there once. It had not been Miles, but his own men from the Militia that had to drag him away, and into the helicopter that day in Jasper.

He knew. He knew what she had to do.

Bass stood there, shock going through his system, his mouth open, his eyes wide.

It is like you said, if he makes one wrong move, we shoot him. His words, when Charlie had protested on letting the Neville kid come with them to Austin.

No.

He almost took a step forward to her, when Miles started to move again, pulling a numb Charlie with him. He shook himself out of his shock and had to put all his effort in pulling his eyes away from Charlie. When he started running himself, he took the lead. He knew Miles had to take care of Charlie, they had to get out of here, they had to get her out of here.

With his heart pounding in his throat, the image of a broken Charlie still burned onto his eyes, he started to make a way through the streets of the city, with Connor right behind Miles and Charlie. God. Charlie. 

Chapter Text

Charlie felt the motion of the wagon. She was sitting in the back of the wagon, Miles in front of her.

It had been Miles who had found her. Numb. Lost. Up to the point where she had felt like she was hovering over her own body, disconnected from herself and the world around her.

Jason was not here anymore. He had been so close to her, in her arms once more time, when his body had gone silent in the middle of that room in the old city Library. There was no more Jason. She felt empty. She had cried, cried for him, blood from his body soaking into her tank and pants. She had cried, but now her tears had stopped. With every mile they spent on the road, she left a little bit more of her old self and the man she once loved behind.

Yesterday he had been alive. Today, she had woken up in a world where he was not.

She had seen him go into that one building. Her instincts had told her something was wrong. His face had been too harsh, his movements not like him. She had followed him. And when she had found him, on the fourth floor of the old library there in Austin, she had known. She had wished it had not been the way it was. But she knew, someone had gotten to him. His number had been read. This was not Jason.

He had attacker her, she had fought. Fought and almost lost. Strangled to death by him. By hands that had once touched her face with gentleness. But she had found some more strength she did not know she possessed. She had begged him to snap out of it. She had begged until he had taken one more step towards her, his knife high in the air and he left her no choice.

She had pulled the trigger. Heard the bullet crush his way into his chest. Watched his eyes go hollow. Watched how he dropped to his knees. She had not wanted him to be lonely, and without thinking she had closed the distance between them and held him, held him until he let out one more breath. His last.

She had told herself to get up. Miles was still out there. Bass. Connor. If she did not get up now, they would never find her.

Get up. Get up. It was her own whisper in that lonely silent room.

Outside Miles had found her. Took her chin into his hand. Called her name. She had no energy. Just wanted to stare, to disappear. Curl up beside Jason. Let go. But Miles did not let her. He had grabbed her arm. Bass and Connor had been in front of her all of a sudden, she had no idea through how many streets Miles had dragged her. It did not matter. She could not meet their eyes. She had killed Jason. She felt Bass' eyes on her. She did not have to look to now Connor was staring at her too. She could not meet their eyes. Not after what she had done.

They were almost back at their camp, close to Willoughby. Both Bass and Connor had been in the front of the wagon, Bass's back was turned against hers. Miles had been around her, had been trying to talk to her. Just like he was now, his deep brown eyes filled with worry. Charlie could not take it. Not after what she had done.

'You know you did have no choice?' Miles looked at Charlie, trying to meet her eyes.

Bass had watched her for the past twenty four hours. Not once had her eyes met his. Defeat was written all over her body. She had looked so fucking lost.

And after that, after the numbness and the faint glimpse of broken tears in her eyes, Charlie had disappeared.

He had seen it happen right in front of him. Her eyes had been filled with hardness, she had closed off. It reminded him too much of himself, of what he had felt over he had buried Shelly and his girl he would never get to see grow up, the girl he would never be a father for. He had cried, he had broken down. And then he had closed off, killing his way through an entire camp later. He could see the coldness in Charlie's eyes and his heart broke for her. He pushed it all away. He could not feel that. He couldn't.

He was listening to Miles, who was trying to talk to her. He knew there was nothing his brother could say to help her. He knew. He had been there once. Charlie's would hear his words, but they would disappear somewhere before they could reach her.

He had turned his body slightly towards Charlie. Charlie was sitting right behind him. So close. So far away.

'I don't need a pep talk, Miles.' Her voice sounded almost angry, distant.

'Good, because you are not getting one, bad things happen. That's life. We do what we have to do to win, right?' Miles could almost hear the question in his own words, that were not supposed to be a question.

'Quit wringing your hands about it. Austin was a win.'

Charlie heard Miles. She heard him. Austin was a win. They had found an alley in Blanchard. The fighter in her knew that was good. But Austin, she would net think about it was a win. She had lost something for good there.

'Finally, now your head is in the game,' Bass decided to jump in. They needed to keep going, they needed to keep pushing. Finally, he heard something of his old brother. Fuck, he wanted to drag Charlie far away from here, but he couldn't. There was nowhere safe anymore. He needed them to keep on moving. Seeing her, dragged him back to so much of his old dark pain that he was afraid to let any of that in. So he focussed on the game ahead. He focussed on what had to be done. He turned Miles' way, letting his eyes fall on her blonde curls for a second, 'now we have to figure out our next move.'

'We have to kill Tom Neville,' Miles looked at Bass.

'You are reading my mail.' Bass told Miles, 'we have to kill him Charlie, he is going to kill you after he finds out what happened.'

It was Connor who broke into the conversation, after Charlie was enjoying Bass his very subtle way of telling her something she already knew. She knew. She knew Neville was coming for her.

They had company. A group of Rangers had picked up their trail. It was Miles who told them to get off the wagon. Told them he would lead them on a goose chase to throw them off. Before she knew it, Charlie heard how Miles ordered her to get back to her mom. She protested, but Miles would not have any of it.

Bass reached out a hand for her, when she jumped of the back of the wagon, but she ignored it. She started walking behind Connor and Bass, wanting to be alone. She felt Bass' eyes on her, but she couldn't meet him. She wanted to disappear. She watched how Miles set the wagon in motion and disappeared onto the horizon. She fell into step behind both the Monroe men, when the cold wind started to blow over the empty grey landscape around her. She felt completely alone.

Three days later

Bass realised he was hitting a dead end. It had been three days since he had seen his brother ride away from them, trying to get those damn Rangers of their tail. He should not have listened to Miles, he should have followed through with his plan which involved shooting all those Ranger assholes. Instead he was here, another endless day, hoping that Miles was still alive.

Miles had not showed up at their camp that night. He had seen Charlie and Rachel leave camp, when Connor had tried to tell him Miles could take care of himself and that they were worrying about nothing. He had told himself that too, but without conviction. Something was wrong, he knew it.

And he was not letting Charlie go out there on her own. He had ignored Connor's comment when his kid had told him to go and find his boyfriend in a bitter tone. He had looked at his kid, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He had felt the shift inside of Connor, he would deal with that later. But now, he had to find his brother.

Two more days had passed and it was the early morning of the third day Miles had been missing. He had been bantering with Charlie at a crossroad about her tracking skills, frustrated, miserable, tired. They were both on edge.

At that crossroad, they had split up. Rachel had started whining about Charlie, and he had told her she could take care of herself. Charlie was not a kid anymore, she had skills, she was strong. She would be all right. They had to keep on going, he had to find Miles.

He circled back and he found Rachel at the spot where they had found the wagon Miles took to ride away from them. It was into fucking pieces on the ground.

'We are walking in circles, there is no sign of him,' Rachel said.

'This is where he would have gone,' he said, trying to let the irritation he felt out of his words. Today was about finding Miles, not about her whining. He focussed on finding tracks on the ground. He was so damn sure, Miles would have gone this way.

'What makes you so sure?' Rachel's voice again. More whining. They were walking on a small path, leading downhill, surrounded by trees.

'Because I am sure,' His said, his voice short and low. Fuck, was the she serious right now?

'Because you are such an expert on Miles?' Her voice belittling.

'Really Rachel you want to do this now, huh?' They had reached the small creek downhill. Sure, decades of friendship, but she wanted to have a who knows Miles better contest.

'He would not be in this mess if it were not for you,' Rachel threw in his face. She had stopped and was facing him. Bass threw his back of his shoulders.

There was disbelieve in his eyes. What the fuck. Was she serious? If Mother Theresa over here had not ended the world, none of them would be in this situation. But hey, let's not focus on that.

He was done keeping his mouth shut.

Before him stood the woman that had her fair share in ending the complete fucking world. Before him stood the woman that had left her complete family on the side of the road. Before him stood the woman that had counted on Miles, to get through to him, if she would come instead of Ben to Philly. Before him stood the woman that had an affair behind Ben's back with Miles. Before him stood the woman that had watched Charlie on the screens inside their safe room in the tower, and letting her hate for him almost get in the way of saving her daughter, her own daughter.

'You are a hypocritical bitch and you are grinding him into the dirt. With all your whining, your nagging about doing the right thing, The right thing? You? Where the hell do you get off with this holier than thou crap? Because, lady, I know you. You're a screw driver wielding psychopath.'

'Oh, so you know me? You know Miles, everybody?' She moved closer into his personal space, her voice the sound of a lioness staling her prey.

'That's right,' he shot in her face, when his voice was filled with anger that was now pumping through his veins.

'Because I know you, Bass, you insecure child. You are taking down Miles into the mud with you, because you can't bear the be alone. You are that pathetic.' She almost spit out the words at him.

The images of a dark grave yard were spreading through his mind. His parents. His beautiful sweet sisters. The face of a woman and a motionless little girl in a tent cornered him. The image of Miles' gun in the dark, when he had woken up to his best friend wanting him dead in the middle night attacked him next.

What happened next, was something he was not planning on mentioning. Ever. What she had tried many years ago was something he never wanted to revisit. But his blood was boiling. And here she was calling him pathetic.

'If I am that pathetic, and you are so good... explain to me that night in Philadelphia.' His voice had reached a slow biting tone.

He watched how Rachel remembered that night. He could see it in her eyes. That one night, not long after Miles had left.

The one thing, Rachel had been keeping over his head. It was in the open now. He was fucking done. He had almost told Miles that night in Mexico, after Rachel had been whining about how Connor had turned into him, simply because he was his blood. no matter what he could have done. The challenge in her loathing eyes had dared him to cross the line, to lose it over her biting and insulting words, so she could tell Miles a version of a truth that only existed in her damn mind. He had almost told Miles later, but he couldn't. Because he was sure Miles would not believe him. So, he had let it go. But not anymore. He was. Fucking.done.with.her.

Since his visit to the quarters Rachel stayed in, when he held her in Philly, since he told her Miles had left, had left him, had left her, he had watched a change in her. She was still telling him nothing about the black out, still telling him nothing about how to get the power back on while he damn well knew she knew. She was still keeping her mouth shut .But she had not refused him when he had asked her again, like had done so many times before, if she would join him for diner. She had joined him a week later. She had a lot to drink. So did he. But not enough to remember that night so very clear.

Diner had turned into more drinks in his private quarters. Those drinks had turned into what felt like an easy conversation. He felt something like their old friendship, he felt like Bass, not like the General he had become. Looking back, letting himself feel that was the first mistake.

The talking, far past midnight, had turned into her head so close to his. He had watched her close the distance between them on his couch. He had been temped, tempted to give in, to hurt Miles, by taking something that belonged to Miles.

But when her face had been close to his, her mouth only inches away from his, he had stopped her. A firm hand on her wrist when her hand had been gliding up his thigh, over the fabric of his uniform. He had seen the nervous twitch around her mouth, the hint of loathing in her eyes when he had stopped her. He had ordered her to leave, when he had moved his hand over his face. He had not believed his fucking eyes how far she had been willing to go. He told her at his next visit, he was done playing games. She had gone back to her old hate for him, and they had never talked about it again.

'I was your prisoner.' Rachel said, her voice trembling. He knew it was bullshit. So did she. What she was implying, after what she was almost willing to do, had filled him with the rage that almost made him lose control.

'I know I have made many huge fucking mistakes Rachel. But don't you dare...Nobody forced you. Nobody forced you into what almost happened.' There was a dead calm in his words, a contained rage in his voice.

Rachel eyes where narrowing with cold anger. She raised her hand and slapped him hard. Bass took in a sharp breath, when his while face filled with anger.

He grabbed her at her jacket and kept his hand there. Harsh breathing, when he almost lost wanted to let her feel that it was her that night. She made that move, he never touched her. He would never cross that line. He forced some of the worst anger away from his gut when he pushed her away from him again.

Shock in his eyes at the rage he had felt, shock in his eyes for what the hell just happened.

Charlie was still out there. Alone. Miles was still there. Alone. They both needed him.

He grabbed his bag from the ground, and met Rachel's eyes. Neither of them spoke when they started to walk again.

Charlie told herself to keep on moving. Her whole body hurt so much, darkness spreading from the corner of her eyes. Keep going, she told herself. It's not far. It's not far.

When she was trying to find Miles, Neville had found her. He had told her to bring her back to camp, so he could work his way through everybody until he found out what had happened to Jason. She couldn't. She had brought him to an old safe house. And there, in the small living room of that safe house, he had thrown her around the room like she was some doll that weighted nothing.

A doll Charlie had once gotten for a birthday, a lifetime ago when the world still made sense.

Her world had stopped making sense a very long time ago.

She had tried to grab a knife that was secured there, under a wooden table but he had seen right through her. She heard Miles in her head, use everything she had to get out of here. She tried to keep her eyes filled with nothingness when Neville stood right in front of her.

She had failed.

He had found out.

He had put six bullets in the wall behind her and finally had put the gun towards her head.

She had heard the click, after she had seen the devastation and hate and disbelieve in Neville's eyes, when he finally found out that she, she of all people, had killed Jason. She heard the click, every cell in her body screaming she did not want to go. Not just yet. She wanted to live. Live. And then, there had been silence. The room was still there. She had gotten away from a broken Neville and she had walked out of the room, out of the safe house, off the porch steps and through the small gate that was on the end of the path from the house to the world before her.

She had to keep on moving. She would have to reach their meeting point. Her mother would be there. And he, he would be there. Every step caused her more pain, her shoulder burning because of the fall against the floor, her legs felt like she could walk no more. The spot from Neville's gun burning into the skin of her forehead. She heard the click of his gun again. She thought about Miles. She had to keep on moving. Find Bass, find her mother and then, find Miles. She could not stop now.

She made it to the small path. No sign of Bass. The sun was setting slowly somewhere around the heavy clouds that pressed on the afternoon. The grey started to turn into darkness. She lifted her hand, and felt the bark of a large tree against it. It was rough against her fingers and it hurt her skin when she let herself glide along the tree. She had no energy left to stand up straight.

Stay awake, she told herself. Stay awake. She felt the temperature drop. She saw how the light faded. She felt how she was losing the battle to keep her eyes open.

She heard a ring in her ear. Darkness was around her. Silence around her.

Charlie heard the sounds of footsteps, pressing onto the leaves on the ground. She heard them and knew if it was Neville, it would be the last sound she would here. This time, there would be no walking away from death. She tried to sit up straight and push herself up the tree. But she couldn't. Her head fell back against the tree. Pain. Pain she was not able to respond too.

She felt hands on her shoulders.

'Charlie, sweetheart. Charlie, it's me.' Her mother's voice.

Then she felt another hand on her leg.

'You get away from her,' she heard her mother hiss.

Çharlie knew it was him. Bass. She tried to stretch her fingers out to his hand, the weight of that large hand soothing on her leg, grounding her, keeping her from the dark that was haunting her and almost caught her again. Bass.

'For fuck sake Rachel, you want to make this about you some more or do you want me to help Charlie?' His voice was rough and so far away. Charlie felt she was going to pass out again.

'You get the hell away from my child...' Rachel spat back.

'Stop...please...stop...' Her voice sounded so broken, a desperate sob escaped her throat. She could not take this. She was so cold, so exhausted. So alone. She could not listen to this any longer.

'Rachel damn it, let me help her,' Bass almost growled at her, irritation seeping through every one of his words.

Charlie felt somebody move closer to her. She felt his arm around her, when she felt how the tree and floor shifted from under her. She yelped with pain when he moved her into his arms. She heard Bass curse something under his breath. She felt his warm breath against her skin.

'Hey, Charlie. I've you got you, I'm here.' His voice was so gentle. A gentleness she had not head in so long.

Charlie tilted her head, and the last thing she saw was the night sky that had turned into a deep grey, the bare branches of the trees above her and the scruff of his beard on his chin. She let out a deep sigh, when she rested her head against the cool leather of his jacket.

Chapter Text

Charlie woke up, her body sore, stiff. Her mind numb but at the same time so very much aware that she was still here. She was still here. She should not be. The click of Neville's gun should have been the last thing she would have heard, but it wasn't. She could not remember much of what happened last night. After Bass took her in his arms, she somehow ended up back in camp.

She had been placed close to a fire, her bedroll close, another blanket added on top of her. She had asked about Miles, and after Bass had nodded a devastating no, she had curled up and closed her eyes in despair. Charlie had heard her mother hiss something to Bass and she felt how he took a step back, away from her, but the sounds faded and she was already asleep.

When she had opened her eyes, a part of her had expected, and hoped for, Bass. But he was not close. Her mother was. And when Rachel started to ask her how she was feeling, she heard her questions, but she herself started to let her eyes roam to their camp. It was early, and the sun was appear on the horizon.

And then, she found him. Bass was sitting at another fire, having breakfast with Connor. His eyes were already there for her to meet. She met his and they held each other's gaze for a second, before her mother demanded more of her attention.

Not much later, Charlie's stomach had been able to take a little bit of breakfast. She was beyond tired, but she got up, wanting only one thing. To get out there and find Miles.

Miles. He was still out there, somewhere, on his own. When she had grabbed her back, and zipped up her jacket she had started to walk to the south side of the camp. When she left camp, Bass was right behind her again, and when he caught up with her, his arm brushed with hers. The leather of his jacket brushing with hers. She did not look up, her eyes scanning the landscape around her. But she knew, he was there, He was there again.

Four hours later, she was the one who found find Miles. Hurt, dehydrated, covered in blood. Looking like hell. But alive. Her mother was there at his side within seconds too. Charlie felt relieve and for a moment she felt what could have been when she would have found him. Dead. Or not found him at all. The grey lonely feeling of what could have been gutted right through her.

It was Bass' hand that was touching some of her locks of hair that fell over her shoulder blades, his fingers comforting on her back. She looked up and watched the relieve in his eyes. She knew what he would lose too, if something would have happened to Miles. She knew. Before she turned back to Miles, her hand found a place on his chest for a moment, and she nodded at him. She ignored her mother's gaze on them. She could not care less.

Five hours later, Miles was back at camp.

Twelve hours later, he would wake up, asking for her. And she would be there, sitting by his side, smiling he was back. Miles was back. She had been sleeping and watching out for him at his side, during the night. Bass had joined her, sitting not far behind her. Watching her, watching his oldest friend.

Three days later, Miles was doing better. He was complaining, whining like a four year old who was bored out his mind. She had never been happier to see her uncle all moody.

Seven days later, Bass walked into the tent where Miles was recovering. He had offered his friend a bottle of booze he had gotten his hands on, but Miles would not even bother to take the damn bottle of out his hands, Rachel' eyes with coldness were aimed at him. Looking back, he should have known another shit storm was coming.

Seven days and two hours later, their camp was under attack, yellow deadly mustard gas filling their camp. Bass watched Charlie run in front of him. She was close to Connor and Staypuft who had started running first with his now creepy as hell girlfriend right behind him, when they all ran for their lives. Mustard gas on their tail, the firing of guns around them.

One day later

Bass was standing in front of a closed screen door.

The screen door of the abandoned gas station they used as a new safe house. And the damn screen door Miles had just shut right in front of his face. On the other side of that door Charlie was so close he could almost touch her. He could see confusion on her face, when her attention was spread between everybody else in the room and him.

Behind Charlie, the bitch and Miles. Busy neutralising the can of mustard gas that he, Connor, Miles and Scanlon stole this evening from the patriots. Miles had patted him on the back when they had returned, and looked at him and the boys, telling him it was time for some whiskey outside.

Apparently whiskey outside was code for screwing you over after I just done a pathetic fake break up with my girlfriend from hell and now I am stabbing you in the fucking back.

Connor was on his right. Scanlon behind him, keeping his distance. He had to watch how Rachel destroyed the one chance in hell of beating those Patriots at their own game. The can of gas had been their only weapon at this point. Bass had believed Miles was ready to use it on the patriots, destroying them in the town ahead, only a couple of miles away. Bass had watched Rachel storm after Miles, telling him they were over, now he had chosen to follow Bass, before they had left to get that can of mustard gas.

After the attack on their camp, they had found a place to sit out the worst. When it was safe to get the hell out of there, they had found a safe house. He had watched Charlie sway on her feet. She had black spots under her eyes, and the past months, and the past weeks were taking its toll on her. Miles had told her to get some rest. She had protested, but Miles did not take any of that. She did not have her stubbornness from a stranger, and Charlie had walked into one of the back rooms to get some sleep.

Bass had been face to face with Miles. He told he him he was done with the whole waiting bullshit. He was done holding their ladies part and talk some god damn more with the bitch and the old men. Once, it had been him and Miles , and he swore, he was done with hiding. He wanted pay back, pay back for framing him for the fall out of two nukes he had not dropped. If they wanted to win this, they had to hit back. Hard.

He had told Miles they would steal mustard gas from those assholes and shove it in the heart of Willoughby. When Miles had told him he would come with him, he had not believed his fucking ears.

And now, the realisation of Miles playing him, like some god damn fool, hit him hard.

Dark betrayal was accompanied with dark rage when his eyes were on Miles and Rachel. And then, Charlie walked in. She still looked like hell, her eyes blinking into the light of the oil lamps in the small room of the safe house. Her eyes fell on him, her mouth opened a bit. And then she looked at Rachel, she looked at Miles, to him and back to Rachel.

'Mom, what is going on?' She walked into the room. Her eyes on Rachel, her mother busy with the can of mustard gas she knew Miles and Bass had brought back.

'What is going on, is that your mom is being a dumb bitch.' He let his hand crash into the fence in frustration.

'Bass, back off.' Miles stepped in, when he saw Bass' dark eyes and rage, aimed at Charlie, 'You don't talk to her like that, or else you and me will have another problem.' His brown eyes on edge, just like his voice.

Charlie moved closer to the screen door. She just woke up, her body heavy with exhaustion and she was trying to understand what on earth had happened in those couple of hours she had been asleep. She had walked into one giant big mess and her mind was trying to make some sense of it all.

'Monroe wanted to use this,' Rachel nodded to the gas in front of her, 'and we just made sure he could not do it use it in town.'

The candy sweet tone of her mother, aimed at Bass told her this was not just about that. There was more, and the sound of her mother's voice made her nauseous. She got frustrated again, not being able to pinpoint what she was missing.

Charlie was slowly starting to understand. If Bass was back to taking Monroe decisions, taking down an entire town of people that they were trying to protect and save from the Patriots, she would not take any of his crap.

She was not sure what had happened, but she saw hurt in Bass' angry dark eyes. She turned to Bass and Miles, moving closer to Bass but Miles took a large step towards her, stopping her.

'Stay out of this Charlie,' Miles told her. She knew it came from the point in him that wanted to protect him. She knew, but the fact that she was pushed out of yet another moment, the fact that she was sent back to the children's table filled her with even more frustration. She crossed her arms before her chest.

Miles opened the screen door, Bass was waiting for him. Tall, his jaws locked, his breath flowing through clenched teeth.

'You lie to me, con me, like I'm some chump.' His voice rough, Bass pushed Miles to his chest, hard. Miles did not move.

Charlie had followed both men outside, and she met Connor's eyes for a moment. Then her focus went back to Miles and Bass. And for a moment she was sure Bass would move in to punch Miles. He didn't.

'We could have used that gas, take out a shitload of Patriots.'

'And anybody else who get caught in the middle,' Miles looked at Bass.

'This is war Miles, I'm done cupping our lady parts and wait. Where the hell is the guy that understood that? You said you wanted to win,' he was not able to keep the hurt and frustration out his voice. It reached Charlie and ripped through her chest. This was not just rage, she sensed what was behind it.

Bass crashed his hands into Miles chest one more time, shoving him away from him, wanting, desperately wanting to get a reaction out of him so he could put his fist in Miles' face.

'I did. And I will. But not like this Bass, we are the good guys now.'

Bass circled around Miles.

'Who are you? God, Rachel is so far up your ass.'

'Oh no, this has not got anything to do with Rachel.' Miles followed Bass with his eyes.

Bass felt Rachel's eyes on them, standing in the doorway, looking with cold content in her bitch eyes. She was fucking hiding inside.

'This is about you and me, Bass.'

Bass let out a huff of air when he locked eyes with the man that had been his friend since he was four. A man that he considered his best friend, family. The man that had betrayed him, again.

There was silence. Bass drove his eyes into Miles' and when he started to speak his eyes were still on the man in front of him.

'Let's go boys,' he said in a dead calm, but rough and low tone to both Scanlon and Connor.

After they had grabbed their shit they were out of there. He saw Charlie, only a couple of feet away. She was trying to find his eyes, but he was too pissed, the dark wall had found a way around him.

Charlie had listened to Miles and Bass. She knew this was Bass, cornered with the dark want for revenge and more. She understood where Miles was coming from. But there was something about all of this, that was wrong, out of place, that felt like it was personal. She closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath.

Beyond the deep rage that radiated from Bass, she saw see his hurt. Old hurt. New betrayal. More wounds, added to old ones.

For the first time she saw it, in the lines in his face, in dark eyes, tensed jaws and rage. Rage that came first, that had to keep everything else at bay.

She was exhausted. Pieces inside of her were broken, so broken she already started to realise they would never heal. She was messed up. And when she saw him leave, she was pissed. So pissed. She was so pissed of seeing yet anybody else leaver her again.

She ignored her mother's when she yelled at her where she was going and moved into the line of trees where she had just seen Bass disappearing into.

'So, what, you are leaving?' The words came out bitter but she wished she had a better control over her voice. It should not tremble like this. She had caught up with him, every step of the way she had let her boots stump into the ground under her, pulverizing the dirt and the little twigs under her feet.

She watched how his shoulders tensed up. She hardly recognised his face when he turned to face her. So harsh, his eyes so dark under the cover of the trees and the little moonlight that found a way through.

Both Connor and Scanlon stopped.

'Keep on movin, I will catch up with you later,' Bass growled, his eyes still on Charlie.

'Monroe...' Scanlond tried.

'I said,' his eyes calm but dark at the younger man, 'keep on movin. Now.'

Scanlon just nodded at him, and both Connor and him started to move forwards.

Charlie was not sure if he was going to take another step towards her. He didn't. They were standing across from each other, under the cover of the darkness of the night. They were between trees in a small clearing.

'What happened to being on the same side? What happened to pushing all our personal stuff away to fight them?' She fired at him.

'Charlie,' his tone sharp, a warning in it to stop right there, rage going through his whole body with every breath. His eyes a steal black and with an intensity that burns right through her.

'And now you are just leaving?' Her face was on edge, her eyes wide.

She saw the small movements around his jaws, the tension in there visible even from where she is standing.

'God damn it Charlie, I am so fucking done with that bitch, I am so fucking done with Miles following her around like some lap dog.'

His voice was rumbling through the air, and Bass noticed the hurt wash over her face. He saw it, but the rage won.

'Did you know?' There is already a crude undertone in his voice.

She blinked at his question, enraged now too he would suggest she would do this.

'Oh come on Charlotte, it is not a difficult question. Did you know? Where you in on this?' His voice was crude now, his eyes a steal black, but dead calm.

'What do you think, Monroe,' she spits out his name, hurt, so very hurt, 'after everything, after all of this, you think I would put a knife in your back? You ever see me NOT throw something right into your face when you are being a total delusional son of a bitch? Did I ever went behind your back?'

The moment the words had left her mouth, she saw it. To anybody else it would be invisible. To her, it is everything. It was just a small shift in his eyes. In his shoulders. But she knew he knew.

Bass realised she was telling the truth. Charlie Matheson never, ever, backed down. She is loyal, and fierce and never played games with him. Charlie never ever would shove a knife in his back. She would be in his face, she would fire her blue eyes into his, tilt her head, and tell him exactly what the hell she thought of him.

His body and mind were full with dark rage. His heart betrayed, yet again, by the man he still saw as a brother. Disappointment. Frustration. He swore he did not understand what happened to Miles. But he knows for fucking sure, he is done being the guy they all can blame for fucking everything and then some.

Those kaki sons of bitches framed him for the bombs. And he wants revenge. He knows he has made mad decisions, crossed so many lines, made many unforgivable mistakes. But he is done with people adding more to that plate. Adding more and don't look a fucking second to who they are or what they have done themselves.

Her eyes. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. Her deep blue eyes. Hurt, tired, just as messed up as him

He knew what she has lost, he knew that day in Austin is still around her like a second skin. He knew it had changed her, had broken her some more. And the thought of a broken Charlie, broke him a little bit more.

He watched the fast shallow breathing, the movements of her chest.

Charlie could not let him go with her eyes. Everything was moving in such a fast way, that her head is spinning and she did not know what to feel first.

Pissed. She is pissed, so pissed at him.

For what he is accusing her of, for the fact that somebody else is on his way out of her life and for the fact, that she gave a damn.

She felt a sharp breath escaping her throat. And that is the exact moment where Bass took a giant focussed step towards her. And then another one. He crossed the distance between them so very fast, that there was no time to think. When he was almost at her, she took a step towards him and they crashed into each other. Tall masculine chest into soft lean curves.

Bass cupped her cheek with his hand, while another hand moved around her waist. His fingers dipped roughly in the skin of her cheek and she felt how her feet leave the ground and he lifted her up. Charlie felt the tension in his body, running right under his skin. She heard his harsh breathing. He took a couple of more steps, and Charlie felt something hard crashing into her back.

Bass pulled her down to him in one strong movement, and pushed her against the tree behind her. This was beyond fucked up. He let out a frustrated growl when they came to a stop, and her warm breaths were in his neck. He felt this raw need to push her into something, anything. The ground, a wall, the tree.

She tilted her head towards him, her eyes firing. So angry, so hurt, so much need. Her lips parted, her hands on his body now too.

For one second, they lock eyes, the next second, their lips met for an angry but so hot and passionate kiss. Then she pushed him away. An angry breathe leaving her lips. He stopped. Waited. Kissed her again. Their teeth met, and Charlie felt how he pushed her into the tree with more urgency. .

So she kissed back with a violent passion.

His beard was setting the skin of her lips and chin on fire.

She broke the kiss again, her fists now crashing into his chest.

'Go to hell,' she said, but her voice sounded so broken. She wanted him to go to hell, but she wanted him to stay as well. She felt old hate, but knew that it is not like it used to be. There is so much more now. He is so much more now. And now she had seen it, there was no going back.

He watched Charlie hiss her words at him, but her eyes, her fucking beautiful eyes tell him to stay, to not leave her. He knew why she asked that, because hell, he knew what it was to be alone.

He did not say a word, and just watched her with blue intensity. He felt her mouth crash on his again. Her hands went to his jacket, to his shirt, her nails into the skin of her stomach before they went to his belt.

He joined her, and their kisses are filled with so much raw want and unspoken things that Charlie let out a deep moan, while his hands made work of her pants.

He pushed the back of her hands into the bark of the tree, the roughness of the tree cutting through her skin. She let him.

He pinned her down, her slender fucking beautiful body between him and a tree in the middle of fucking nowhere.

They both tried not to be, but they are raw and open in front of the other.

There is no more hiding from that one. His dick is hard, throbbing to push inside of her, to take her. He watched how Charlie held her breath. And then, with one loud growl he was in her. With one deep thrust he felt her warmth around his cock. Charlie let out a cry. Another thrust. Another harsh breath from her throat. Another moan.

She needed more, so she asked him for more with her eyes. His rhythm is a fast and deep one, raw thrusting inside of her. Her orgasms hit her out of nowhere. A deep primal scream left her lips when she let go around him. A scream filled with want for him, filled with loss and hurt and passion and his breathing close, his taste on her lips, his scent of leather close and his sweat against her skin.

The moment she came she felt his movements explode. And with a couple of more deep thrusts and a groaned curse close to her ear he followed her, spilling himself over her stomach when he pulled out of her.

After the came hard, he felt how Charlie started to tremble against him. He let go of her hands, slowly. She wrapped them around his neck, when he let go of them. And then, he saw anger leaving her eyes for just a moment, when she moved her head into the hollow of his neck.

They both felt their pulses melt.

For a moment rage flooded away, and her body is all there is. He moved his arms around her, while they both lean into each other. 

Chapter Text

One year later

Charlie had heard of movies, of what they were like. Aaron had told her about many movies. She had spent many nights with soft candles illuminating the room and rainy afternoons that had to be spent indoors with his colourful stories. Her father drinking a glass of whiskey at the fire, Danny never far away.

She had quickly learned that in every movie, there would come a point where things collided together. And came to a screaming stop.

She herself had reached that point a couple of months ago.

After Bass had pinned her down that one tree, on that dark night with little moonlight and raw passion, she had watched him walk away.

After she had stolen a train with Miles, her grandpa and the help from Jo, a man from town, they had run into Bass who wanted to steal the train they just stole. She was not surprised to see him there. He was there with Connor. Scanlon. And with Neville. Neville. Bass had brought Neville. She had stood in front of Bass. Again. She had stared into the barrel of a gun that one of his men was holding. Again. It felt like a wrong dark messed up déjà vu.

After Neville aimed his gun at her, and Miles jumped between her and Neville's desire to get his revenge for his son, it had been Bass, who had saved her life, knocking Neville down.

After she had stood there, shocked, numb, unable to move, to talk, his eyes had found her. Shame, uncertainty, desire, hunger. She had only been able to nod at him. Relieve, guilt, longing, gratitude in her eyes.

After they had to kidnap the Patriot President, after Connor had betrayed Bass, after luck was finally on their side, they had locked eyes, outside that church that was their meeting point. And he watched her. She had watched him. She had felt the faintest of smiles form around her lips. There was not a trace of smugness, of his arrogance. He had looked sad, almost asked for something in longing deep eyes.

And after that, there had been war. They won. The patriots were crushed, after months of intense battle. She had fought with Bass, she had fought with Miles. Survival, battle, blood. Every day. After the war, they returned to Willoughby. Miles, her mom, Aaron, her grandpa.

But he had not returned. Not for long anyway. One night, around autumn, she had watched Bass, steal in his eyes, bruises under his eyes, walk out of Miles' apartment. He had stormed past her. Charlie had walked inside to see bruises on her uncle as well, her mother twitching her nervous twitch around her lips. Neither of them had wanted to talk. Had wanted to explain.

It had hurt her beyond anything, to be left out of what was going on. After that, it had not taken long before she had moved out. Not just because of that night, but because Charlie felt like she was floating, because she felt she, her mother and Miles were drifting apart.

She had felt invisible. She was happy for her mother and Miles, she had meant it when she had told Miles to give it a shot with her mom. But thing between her and Miles had changed. He was still there, but not in the way he had been. Or maybe she had been shutting him out. She had become more silent. Aaron had tried to talk to her. She knew she was distancing herself. But she had no idea to deal with everything in any way but her own. On her own.

Bass had left town after that night. Without any chance of finding out what happened. The war had been hard on both her and Bass, but Charlie had hoped that maybe, when they would return they could find something back from what they had found that day in that rainy safe house. The one where he had offered her comfort. The one where they had made love for the very first time.

When she had moved into the small apartment in Willoughby, she had placed the book she had found in that safe house, the travel book, the one Bass had put in her bag, in an empty bookcase.

He had asked for a transfer to Austin.

The town gate had just been opened and with the first morning light she had walked the horse she had chosen for this short trip, under it. The streets of Willoughby were still silent. The grey clouds in sky pressed heavy on her. She had not looked back.

Bass was hung over. A familiar feeling to start yet another fucking day. He had a pounding headache and when he walked into his office, he noticed there were only more reports dumped for him.

He poured himself a whiskey, holding the glass in his hands, between his fingers when he looked outside. Here he was. Texas. Austin. General again. Blanchard had given him that position back, right after the war.

On long grey days like this, even after he had tried to drink it all the fuck away, he missed her. It had been months since he had seen her.

The last time was after that one night that Miles had betrayed him. It would be the last time he would let Miles do just that. The bitch had finally gotten what she had started and wanted the moment he had met her at a party when she had just met Ben. She had never truly accepted him. She had never liked his brotherhood with Miles. They had once been friends, but fuck, Rachel was married to Ben, had screwed Miles and had started a silent cold war to get him as far away from Miles as she could.

And one that one night, she got her fucking wish. He was the hell out of there, ignoring her loathing eyes and the smirk that was almost breaking through. He had wanted to snap her neck, right fucking there, but then he looked at his brother and he was just done. Done. His jaws throbbing with Miles' punches. He had stormed out and had watched directly into Charlie's eyes who just crossed the street, on her way to Miles' apartment for a bottle of whiskey he, Miles and Charlie would share. The bottle had never been opened.

He had settled down in Austin and had gotten used to this life again very fast. Woman. Whiskey. Work. Work some more. And start it all the fuck again the next day. He let the whiskey burn in his throat when he started outside the window, the city before him.

Charlie. Charlotte.

His door was open and he heard some Rangers talking, when they passed his office. He heard something about 'now a year ago' and the shooting on the large city square.

And his mind went back to that day. Connor had still been there. Miles. The Neville kid. Charlie. Charlie's face came back to him. Broken. Broken when Miles had dragged her out of the city with him.

He had grabbed some papers from his desk, but held them without looking at them.

The Neville kid dead. A piece of Charlie too.

Neville. A dark memory came back with such force, that he had to close his eyes. His fingers dug into the glass in his hand.

He could see her face again. He was back that night next to that train. Instead of standing next to Strausser, using Charlie to force Rachel into finishing that amplifier he had been focusing on with everything he had, he had stood next to Tom Neville. A Tom Neville who was ready to shoot her.

He could not believe that he was fucking there again. Standing in front of Charlie, putting her in danger yet again, because he had brought Tom Neville. Another gun in her face. He had watched her face right before he had turned around to realise what the hell Tom was doing.

And this time he saw another Charlie, another Charlie that had protected her brother with her life that day in Philly.

He watched guilt. Her face and body were filled with it. She was not moving, not speaking. Dark panic had spread. He knew Tom, if he would not stop that son of a bitch , he would kill her. He had chosen his dark plan of revenge, their plan to drive that trainload of mustard gas into the heart of DC for his revenge on the Patriots.

But right there, and right then he needed Charlie to be all right. He needed her to live. So he had knocked Neville of his feet.

He had felt dark shame when Miles stepped out of his line of vision. He had felt dark anticipation of what he would find in her eyes when he had lifted his head. Her blue eyes had already been waiting for him. And he saw relieve in them, he saw guilt, loss and gratitude.

Charlie.

And then, the realisation of what he had heard just in the hallway from the passing rangers hit him. The shooting. That day. One year ago.

He dropped the papers he had been holding. He grabbed his jacket and let the door of his office crash behind him when he was on his way out.

The echo of silence was hanging through the building.

She was back in the city that was burned into her, like the M brand on her right wrist.

She stood in front of the double doors, she walked through one year ago. That room. The room where she would lose a part of herself for good. The echo of silence was pressing through the building.

His heart had pumped his blood through his veins, until she hot shot straight to it and his blood had flowed out with the live inside of him. She had soaked Jason's blood into her tank top, her pants and her memory.

She opened the doors. The room was silent. The faint evidence on the floor of where Jason had been on the ground, in her arms.

She was not able to move and walk into the room. She fell against the wall that was closest to her, when her legs gave out under her and silent tears turned into sobs that seemed to fill the entire building. She cried, she finally cried. She had not cried for him. For what she had to do, for where life had taken her since it had happened. She had pushed it away, deep inside of her, wrapped everything in guilt and never looked back.

Until today. Today it had been a year. A year since that day in Austin. She had left their camp with Miles, Bass, Connor and Jason. Jason.

Jason.

She cried, until she could not cry no more. And then another wave hit her. She had come alone. She had not even told Miles or her mother she was here.

The coldness from the building crept up on her. She closed her eyes, spoke to the air around him and told him, she told Jason, her last goodbye. I'm sorry. So sorry...goodbye...

The hallway around her stayed silent.

She dragged herself of the floor. Feeling completely and utterly lost. She walked down the many steps. So lost. So empty. No idea where she would go now.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she pushed the heavy doors open and the afternoon air hit her face. Her eyes were burning from her tears. She wanted to let herself glide down on the steps before the building and never get up. It did not matter. Nothing mattered.

She took a step forward.

And then. There.

Between the people moving through the street before her, between the everyday life, between the noises of Austin.

There.

He stood across the street. He was not moving. His lips pressed in a thin line, his hands next to his body.

Bass.

He stood there.

She met with familiar blue and the rest of the street disappeared. She let out a first sharp breath. Then a gasp. Then a sob. Her vision blurred. She was trembling.

Without realising she had moved her hands forward. And then, at the moment she felt she could not take her own weight on her knees, his arms were around her. One arm strongly around her back, the other around her, his fingers gliding tino her hair, guiding her head towards his chest. She buried her head under his chin, and took in the scent she had missed so very much.

Tears fell now silently when she felt he helped her stand up straight. She was not able to stand on her feet anymore, but he held her so close she was able to just be.

She let him do the rest.

His voice was close to her ear. God, she had missed his voice. She thought she had forgotten how he sounded but at the moment he was there.

'Come on,' Bass said, his warm breath against her neck, his voice hoarse.

She let him guide her, one arm around her, her weight against his tall body. A street. Another street. She looked in front of her. The shapes of the world around her blurry. Another street. A building. A front door.

A silent dark apartment.

He was here. He was here.

She finally tilted her head. She met his blue eyes, her lips parted, her face full of evidence of her cried tears. Her eyes red. New tears fell again. Another sob broke through. His eyes were wide, and calm, and deep and god, she missed him.

She watched him, watching her. He explored her face, the pain she felt reflecting in his eyes.

Another sob broke free. Her mind was so slow, so grey.

She felt how she was slowly guided to a couch with firm hands.

Bass was across from her. He tilted his head down for a moment, tension in his jaws. And then his intense eyes were back on her. One hand moving a lock of hair behind her ear. His thumb following her jaw line.

And then he moved next to her side. One of his hands moved to the side of her head. His large hand rested on her head. The weight of his hand calmed her down. She let him guide her to his chest.

And there, in the hollow of his neck, in the darkness of that small place, the world reduced to a small space , she let go.

Charlie let go. He was here.

She heard her own heartbeat in her ears. She heard her own breathing in that small safe space against him. She felt how he wrapped his arms firmly around her.

She was hidden from everything and all she had to do was breath. The warmth of his skin, the scent of whiskey so close.

Be.

Let go.

Chapter Text

.

There was the first hint of morning in the room around her. Her head felt heavy, her eyes were stinging and the skin of her cheeks felt dry and sore from tears that had flown over them.

Her eyes were half closed, and she needed a moment to remember where she was. She was laying down, a plaid over her, that pressed on her safely. The room was on its side and when she slowly pushed herself of the couch, it spun back into its normal perspective.

She heard the creaking of the floor next to her. She knew those steps.

Bass sat down on the couch next to her. She realised she must had fallen asleep and the memories of where she was and why she was there came back. The plaid was still hanging over one of her shoulders, the warmth between her body and the fabric soothing around her.

Bass watched Charlie. She had lines under her eyes, she looked white, pale, her eyes red of crying. Her hair was messy and flowing over her shoulder.

After he had stormed out his office, she had been the only one on his mind. She was going to be there, he had been so sure. He had no idea how long he had been standing on the other side of the street until she had walked out, pushing heavy doors of the former library open. Her eyes had been hollow. Eyes he recognised as his own eyes, that once had been staring back at him from a mirror at an air port. He was on his way home, not to see his family, but say goodbye to them for the very last time.

Her shoulders low in defeat, her eyes on the steps before her. For a moment he had thought she would have fallen through her knees, but she had just stood there.

And then, she had found him. He had seen the relieve and pain on her face and he had only wanted to pull her close. He had been with her in seconds, feeling her slender body against his. He had brought her over to his place. Held her. Had felt her warm in his neck. Charlie had cried herself asleep.

He had grabbed a plaid and had let her sleep, while he had poured himself a whiskey and had sat down on a chair next to her. Sat down next to her, watching her sleep, watch her toss and turn. He had put a hand on her arm to steady her.

And how, she looked so lost in his living room.

Charlie felt how his hand reached out for her, gentle fingers moving going through her hair. She still could not talk, she did not want to move. She did not want to eat. Bass gave her a mug of coffee which she drank slowly. She moved to the back of the couch, curled up and pulled the plaid over her shoulder. Within seconds she was lost in dark dreamless sleep again.

Two days later

Bass had to leave Charlie that morning to go to a tensed and long day of meetings. Yesterday, he had a day off.

She had slept for hours, had looking into nothingness between those hours of sleep. Bass had made sure she had gotten some food into her system.

His couch had been her island.

When he walked into his apartment, he found her there. Her legs folded under her, resting on the couch. As a true Matheson, she had found the bottle of whiskey he had kept in his kitchen.

Her hands were around the bottle as she held onto it, the bottle pressed onto her chest.

Bass threw his jacket in a corner. The room was dark. Cold. The sun had set, darkness was falling over Austin. He made some light and got warmth into the room by starting a fire.

Sitting next to Charlie, his low voice broke the silence in the room, the silence that held her company for the whole day.

Her tears had stopped. One wave after another, until she had cried enough. She put the bottle to her lips and took another gulp. Then she held onto the bottle again, feeling the coolness of the glass of the bottle against her skin, through the fabric of her tank.

'Tell me what he meant to you, Charlie.'

Charlie felt her breath hinge in her lunges. Nobody had ever asked her that question.

She thought about the first time she met Jason. Nate. Jason. She thought about their first kiss, his hand slowly gliding into her hair. She thought about all those moments she had talked to him, understanding how stormy his relationship with his father was, and how much he had wanted to connect with him, get his approval, get his father to understand him, to see him. The sound of the gun she had to use to stop him from killing her faded. Her mind was silent. And finally, she was able to look behind that moment and remember him. His smile, his eyes, the way he had looked. They way she had fallen in love for the very first time in her life.

'He...he understood. Things with my mom, they have been so hard. He understood because he had that same struggle with his father. He was somebody I could talk to.'

She let more whiskey burn in her throat.

'I loved him.'

'He was the first guy I ever loved. I don't know about him, but that was how I felt...'

Her voice sounded shaken.

Bass had to swallow something out his throat. Seeing Charlie like this, reminded him of that rainy afternoon they had spent in that safe house, many months ago. Just like this day. There had been a fire. There had been a couch. And there had been a Charlie that had, apparently, trusted him enough to share something deeply personal with him. Like she was doing now.

'Charlie, you have any time how many times I saw your name in another report when you were on your way to Philly? Do you know how many times that Neville kid showed up in those reports as well?'

A sting of jealousy hit his gut. Even then, he had been fascinated by Charlie Matheson. Miles' niece. The girl who had dragged his former best friend and brother out of his dark hole and got him on the road.

'Hell, the kid turned his back on my Militia to be with you.' His voice was low and not too unfriendly, although he was not able to keep all the frustration out his voice.

But then, his tone changed. Low. Certain.

'He cared about you, Charlie. Believe me, he did.'

He watched Charlie, her eyes focussed on the wall on the other side of the room. He saw how a sigh escaped from her chest. Her eyes got softer for a moment, and her face changed from blank to something more gentle.

Bass words were circling in her head. It was like some of the pain had moved just a bit. She had cared about him. He had cared about her. Jason. It was over, he was gone. They knew they would probably not last. But it had meant something. It had been real. It was over. But it had meant something.

While the fire was burning with deep golden and orange flames, silence was in the room again. She had no idea how long that silence sat between them.

Bass was lost in his thoughts when he heard Charlie's voice.

'What happened that night?'

Charlie watched how he locked his jaws immediately at her question. She watched how he pulled a hand over his scruff. He looked tired all of sudden, with traces of hurt and betrayal.

They both knew what night they were talking about.

The night he had watched Miles and realised he was done being the one to get blamed for fucking anything. It had been the night he had counted for his brother to have his back, only to be left standing with a knife in his fucking back.

Bass was on his way to Miles' place on the other side of town. There was a bottle of whiskey waiting for him that he would share with both Miles and Charlie.

When he walked into Miles' apartment, he noticed two things. Charlie was not there yet. And Miles was not alone. Rachel was standing behind him.

'Rachel,' he said curtly.

He watched her face, he watched something in her eyes that set him on edge. He watched from Miles to Rachel and back to Miles again.

'So, what's this about?' Bass' voice was low and on edge at the same time.

'I told him, Bass.' Rachel answered. There was a sickening tone of anticipation in it.

'Is it true, Bass?' Miles voice sounded irritated and sharp.

'What the fuck are you both talking about?'

Miles moved in front of Rachel, his eyes firing into Bass.

'Did you try to get her in your bed that night Bass?' Miles spat in his face, ' oh come on Bass, simple question. Did.You.Get.Her.Drunk.And.In.Your.Bed?'

Bass felt rage fire up in his veins. He let out a huff of air. He knew Rachel had been circling around him, Miles and Charlie, at nights they would meet. He remembered her icy eyes when he had wanted to take of Charlie that afternoon when Miles was missing, and Neville had found and hurt Charlie. He knew she had been watching him, then and since they came back from the war and had all settled down again. He should have known the bitch would wait for her moment to rip everything apart.

'You hypocritical bitch,' he shouted at Rachel.

Within seconds, Miles launched himself at him and Bass felt Miles fist in his face. And again. And again. Bass pushed him away with full force, both man now standing in front of each other. Bass was bleeding but he did not give a fuck.

'What the hell do you think, Miles? Do you even give a fuck about my answer or have you already made up your mind?'

Bass pushed two fingers in Miles chest. 'Maybe, you should ask your girlfriend over there what she did that night.'

The tension was raging through Miles' living room. Rachel watched Bass, standing behind Miles.

Miles turned to Rachel. Questioning in his eyes. Rachel looked at him.

'Miles, I already told you what happened...' Rachel only looked at Miles, when she continued, '...and that's why I told you I don't want him around Charlie anymore.'

Bass mouth fell open. 'Unfucking believable.' He had raging thoughts of snapping her neck, right then and fucking there.

'You really think I would hurt Charlie, Miles? Huh?' He pushed Miles again, his hands crashing onto his chest.

He saw the doubt in Miles eyes. For the first time that evening he watched a Miles that was not so sure anymore. Bass already knew the answer to the question he just asked Miles. They both knew he would never ever hurt her. But Miles stayed silent. Instead of opening his mouth he stood there, not having his back.

And that was the moment he completely lost it, and punched Miles in the face with everything he had.

'You know it is bullshit. You would have never let her go with me to Vegas if you did not know I would keep her safe. '

Bass spat the words out, when deep dark hurt and betrayal spread through him like a raging fire.

He thought about a dark night at a cemetery, when Miles had promised him he would be there. He thought about years full of friendship. Of brotherhood. Years that were fucking everything to him and years that did not even seemed to exist right now.

'You are seriously standing here and keeping your fucking mouth shut when that bitch is over there is throwing that in my face? After everything? After decades of friendship? After what you promised me? After everything I have done for you?'

It had been the two of them on the road after the blackout. Bass had offered to go with him to Philly, to find his family. Because Miles' family was his family. Because he would not let Miles go out there on his own. Because they were brothers.

It had been the two of them that had started a Republic, as a movement against rape, murder, violence and so much horror they had to witness in the years that had passed since the blackout.

It had been him, that Miles moved forward when it came to the question who would be President. It had been him that had been still standing, when Miles had walked the fuck out. It had been him, that took all the bullshit for the things they both had built. That took the bullshit for deciding to get Ben. And when Rachel had showed up instead of Ben, they had both decided together they needed to know what she knew.

He had fucked up, he knew that. He had hit rock bottom, lost all his friends and had tried to end his miserable life. And then, that day in Vegas, Charlie had crashed into his life and it had been the start to find his way back to some of the man he used to be, a way back to Miles.

But he was done. So fucking done being the one that took all the punches. Over and over again. He had screwed up. He knew that. But so did Miles, he had screwed up royally. And Bass had always stood by him. Because they were in this shit together. Because they were brothers.

'I think you should go,' Rachel's ice cold words.

At that moment, when he had looked at Miles one more time, that night in that room, Bass had not been able to take another knife in his back. He let the air escape between his teeth and a huff of painful and hurt air left his lunges. His face had been throbbing with Miles punches when he had walked out. The taste of blood in his mouth, the taste of rage. Hurt. Betrayal.

...a couple of days later I sat in front of Blanchard, asking for a transfer here.' Bass said, sounding tired and broken.

His eyes had been in front of him the whole time, while she watched his pain, listened to him.

'I know I fucked Charlie up, I know. But Miles...we went through so much. I always had his back. We were brothers,' A bitter grin appeared around his mouth, 'or, that's what I thought. Boy, was I wrong.'

He needed her to know this. He needed her to know, but he was afraid how she would react. He did not think he was able to take any more shit.

'I did not touch your mom, Charlie.'

Charlie noticed the defeat in his voice.

'We were drunk. Miles had just left the Republic. We had diner. We were so very drunk when she made a move. I was tempted. Tempted to hurt Miles, to give in that whatever the hell was about to happen. But I stopped things. I did not touch her, I swear.'

Her voice sounded strong and bright when she spoke again.

'I know, Bass.'

He looked at her.

'Remember when she walked in that old Mill, right after we came back to Willoughby? From that moment I think she was looking for an opportunity to get between you and Miles. If you had really touched her, forced her into anything, she would have used that in her advantage. But she never did.'

He needed time, before he nodded at her. His eyes already on a spot on the floor in front of him.

'I'm so sorry...' Charlie said, she felt hurt for Bass, she felt disappointment that her uncle had only been loyal to her mom.

She moved the bottle in her hand towards him. They locked eyes and he took the bottle from her. He put the bottle against his mouth. Then, he returned the bottle to her, and Charlie did the same. She moved herself into the corner of the couch, her legs on the next under her and next to her.

'You saved my life, Bass. More than once. You've been there for me, you've made sure I kept on going after everything around me was crashing down. And you never ever hurt me, not even when I threw so many things in your face.'

'Thank you.' As she spoke, her fingers were trembling a bit from all the emotions.

He looked at her, and they locked eyes. Then, they looked at the fire in front of them again. The bottle against her chest again.

They sat in silence. They drank a bottle. It was late when he finally spoke again. His voice was low, but so gentle that Charlie felt the little hairs in her neck rising.

'Stay as long as you want to, Charlie.'

Chapter Text

Charlie slowly put the now almost empty bottle in front of her. And then she moved over to Bass. Their bodies had been close on the couch all evening, without touching.

He lifted his head and Charlie could see each and every line on his face that made him look tired. Beaten up.

She moved herself so she was straddling him.

Bass watched her swollen eyes, he watched a face he knew by heart at this point. But hell, she looked so lost, the fire in her eyes he loved so much to find in there, had vanished.

He moved on arm around her, shifting her weight with his arm around her lower back.

Charlie felt how he pulled her closer.

She was used to a rough Bass, a Bass that made her head spin, that made her dizzy with need, that made her explode with rawness and fire for him. But this time, their movements were slow. Their breathing was warm.

He kissed her neck. He wrapped his hand around her cheek and pulled her in for a kiss. Their lips met in a slow encounter, and Bass felt Charlie shiver under his hands.

Their movements came in waves. Waves of needing the other, as close as they could feel each other. They stopped. Looked. Kissed again. He slowly moved her pants and panties out of the way. He helped her opening his own pants. They did not bother with the rest of their clothes. 

Bass let his hand disappear under her shirt. Charlie grabbed his shoulders when she let herself be positioned by Bass, so he could enter her.

He locked her in his arms, when he pushed into her warmth. He growled, a painful growl, filled with need and pain. Filled with needing her, all of her.

Charlie pushed herself closer to him with everything she had, when she let out a small cry of fullness. Taking in his scent, tasting his skin, taking in how his strong body seemed to be everywhere, wrapped around her, shielding her.

When she came, she felt tears in her eyes. Tears that surprised her completely. Tears she did not know could fall when she was so wrapped up in wanting to be with him when she reached her climax. With her name a begging rough whisper escaping his lips, and his arms around her shoulders, he pushed Charlie as close as he could when he let go.

Their breathing was harsh. He did not say anything. He held her close. And when she closed her eyes, and a tear escaped again, Bass simply kissed her eyelashes.

He tasted her salty tears. He grabbed the plaid that was still laying on the couch next to them and wrapped it around him and Charlie. Charlie moved her head against his shoulder and her arms around his back and let Bass wrap her up. In that blanket. In his arms.

One week later

Charlie found herself in front of a familiar home. It was her grandpa's home and she stepped up the stairs of the porch.

7 days ago she had left this town behind. Without a sense of direction. Without solid ground under her feet. 6 days ago she had whispered a goodbye in a silent staircase in an empty library in Austin. She had whispered her goodbye and found Bass waiting for her. His apartment had been her hiding place from everything that was still out there, a place to just be. With him.

She had slept, she had cried. Cried some more. After Charlie straddled him, and fell apart in his lap she had slept. He had slept.

4 days ago she realised she was hungry again. 3 days ago she had stood in front of his window, realising that the world out there was still waiting. 2 days ago she had kissed him goodbye, a slow kiss, her hands on his chest, and told him it was time to take care of a couple of things at the town and the people living there she had left behind. Another deep kiss before she was out of the door.

Today, without knocking, she walked inside her grandpa's house. Finding her mother in the kitchen.

Rachel put the small towel on the kitchen counter behind her. Her first instinct was to walk towards Charlie but Charlie's eyes stopped her.

'Charlie, you are back...we were so worried. Where were you?'

Charlie just stared at Rachel, thinking with bitterness that if they were so worried about her, if they were truly worried about her, why had they not paid more attention to her the past few months. Her mother's words sounded so hollow in that light.

Rachel looked at her daughter, questions in her eyes. Charlie had left a note on her dinner table, simply saying she needed some time alone. Miles had been her when she had found the note and since that day, he had been drowning himself in whiskey. After that night, when Bass stormed out of Miles' apartment, she had thought she had finally removed all the poison she still felt was Bass, out of Miles' life. But Miles had been more moody and dark than she had remembered him in a very long time and things between her and Miles were not good.

'I went to Austin. I had to say goodbye to someone.'

'You were gone a week, Charlie.' Rachel's words were sharp.

Charlie decided she was done with long conversations with her mom. Conversations where in the end, her own mother always felt she was right, and Charlie was the stupid naive child.

'I stayed with Bass.'

She watched her mother's face drop. Charlie did not wait for another harsh opinion from Rachel.

She ignored her mother and spoke again.

'Did you tell Miles, that Bass got you drunk and got you into bed with him?'

She watched how Rachel took a step back, her fingers digging into the kitchen counter behind her. She was absolutely stunned at the turn in this conversation with her daughter.

'Did you, mom?' Charlie's eyes held disappointment and a determination in them, her feet firmly on the kitchen floor. The same kitchen she and her mom had talked right after she had returned. With Bass.

'I stood here, a long time ago, in this kitchen, listening to you over and over again how stupid you thought I was for bringing him back. How naive I was for believing he wanted to fight with us. You know how much guilt I felt? How torn I was? And I told you then...you are always right. You never make mistakes. You never want to listen, to me. You always feel that what YOU do, is the right thing.'

Charlie stood still, her feet still on the same spot, in front of Rachel.

'But mom, you make mistakes too. And I can't believe you told Miles a twisted version of the truth. It was not what happened between you and Bass, and you know it. The only reason why you told Miles that because was you wanted to watch and creative distance between them.'

'Charlie, I was his prisoner for years.'

'I know. And I know that he was off the rails. That man there and then made one mistake after delusional mistake. But tell me, did the man you say you love, not make those same mistakes? And yet, I never ever hear you talk about that.'

She watched how her mother did not have an answer. Or maybe she did, but she was not willing to answer yet.

'It would not hurt that, for once, you could admit you make mistakes too, mom. If you really do love Miles, if you are giving him a second chance after everything, then don't use a lie to push Miles and Bass apart. Bass is his family too, mom. He needs him.'

She turned around.

'Charlie, where are you going?'

'I'm going to find Miles, mom.' She said what she came here to say and she had no energy for another discussion with her mother. Now she had to find somebody else.

And what that, she walked out of the kitchen, out of her grandpa's house and turned left when she was at the end of the path that lead from the house to the street.

Charlie sat on the small step before his building. Miles was not home. She had knocked, and tried again. Eventually she had sat down, stretched her legs and waited.

But, it did not take long to see him walking down the street. His boots loosely tied, like they always seemed to be with her rebel uncle. His hand was on the hilt of his sword and his eyes were fixed on a point before him.

And then, he saw his niece. He stopped for a moment, before he walked over to her. Charlie got up. Miles took a couple of big steps before he pushed Charlie against his chest. There was no yelling or a remark filled with sarcasm where the hell she went. He just held her, and Charlie let him.

When he pulled away, Charlie saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes. Guilt. He looked like hell, a copy of Bass. Tired and miserable. She could sense the whiskey on his breath.

'You want to come in?' Miles' voice almost unsure, something that did not fit her badass uncle.

'Sure,' she nodded at Miles.

His place was dark, messy and she could smell that a window had not been opened in days. He stood in front of her, while Charlie decided his apartment looked just as miserable as Miles was.

'So, how have you been kid?'

She started talking. It was hard for her to talk about this, but the words came and she slowly told him. About Austin. She watched Miles eyes darken during her story.

When Charlie stopped talking, when her voice had started to tremble, the warm voice of Miles reached her, although she could guilt in his words.

'Kid, I am so sorry. You could have asked me to come with you...I would have..' Miles shook his head.

'You felt so far away, Miles. When we came back here, things felt so different between you and me.'

More guilt in his eyes. Miles had been worried for her, day after day. No amount of whiskey was able to change that. He should have taken better care of her. He had failed miserably and when Rachel had showed him Charlie's note, he had known he had messed up things. Yet again.

'I hate the idea of you alone in that city, kid.'

'I was not alone, Miles.'

Then she reached the part where Bass had been waiting for her outside the library. She told him how he took care of her. How he made sure she had a safe place to stay. That he made sure she ate something. That he made sure she a place to talk, to grieve.

Miles nodded at her. Thanked his brother in silence he had been there for her. Made sure she had not been roaming through the streets of Austin on her own, ending up god knows where. And then, he felt even more like a giant coward asshole, remembering that night when he watched Bass leave after they both beat the shit out of each other.

And then, Miles heard his niece tone, and the way she talked about Bass confirmed something that he knew for quite some time now. He watched her eyes and things started to make sense.

'Oh hell,' Miles groaned.

Charlie watched how Miles come a conclusion and had thought he would react..well..differently than this. 'You already knew?'

'I..picked up on some things,...oh hell Charlie,' Miles groaned again, almost yelling. 'Let's just say I lived in a pretty town called denial for quite some time now.'

Miles did not say anything when he got up.

'Where are you going?' Charlie wanted to know.

He came back with a bottle and two glasses. He sat down next to her and poured her a glass too. They drank in silence. Than Charlie started to talk again.

'He told me about what happened between you two that night before he left for Austin. About what my mom told you. Nothing happened there, Miles. She made a move, and he was thinking about giving in, but he did not do anything. He did that for you.'

Miles let the whiskey sting at the back of his throat, remembering that messed up night. Rachel had told him, about a drunk womanizing Bass with accusations about more. She had told him he had made a move, that she was drunk and she had not been able to make a right decision because of her drunkenness. That he had took her to his bed. He had always wondered about the timing of Rachel's disclosure. And when she dragged Charlie in the argument he had know Bass had told the truth.

Of course he knew Bass would never hurt Charlie, hell, he had seen the care for her in Bass' eyes and the way he protected her.

Bass protected the people he cared for with all he had.

He did that for Charlie, even when Charlie did not see yet why Bass was doing those things for her.

And when Rachel had twitched her lips in her signature way, he had known she had not been telling him the whole truth of that night in Philly. He knew he should have opened his mouth. He was torn between the woman he loved and the man that was his brother. He had been a fucking coward and had been miserable ever since that night.

'We both know he has never layed a finger on me. We both know he saved my life more than once. We both know he has always protected me, just like you have. I believe him, Miles.'

'Charlie, maybe things are just too fucked up at this point. Me and Bass...'

Charlie did not let him finish. It reminded Miles of the day his niece had stood in front of him, he had told her that the man she once knew was dead. She had disagreed. Of course she had, with all the Matheson stubbornness she had.

...you and Bass are family, Miles. Brothers. I understand now.'

She watched a sad expression fall over his face.

' He is just as miserable as you are.'

She poured herself a second drink, the messy apartment pressing on them both.

When she finished that drink, she spoke about an address. In Austin.

'That's where you can find me, if you need me. Or, you know, if you want to come over to kick Bass' ass for being with your niece. Or if you are out of whiskey...or another emergency like that.'

'You are leaving?'

'I am, Miles. It's time.'

'Leaving to be with that moron?'

'Afraid so...' Miles met her eyes, and she smiled at him. he let out another dramatic sigh.

He was far from amused to know Charlie was with Bass now. But she was stubborn and he had no idea how to talk this out of her head. She was his niece and he wanted her happy. Maybe Bass could do that. He knew he would take care of her, he knew he would keep her safe. But most of all, he knew his niece was smart and could take care of herself. She was not a kid anymore, although he would always call her that. He trusted her with her decisions. He would have her back. He loved her.

'Come on.' Charlie stood in front of him, and she nodded to the door.

Miles grinned at her, for the first time that day. Charlie considered it to be a good sign, when she put her hands on her hips.

'You are very bossy today, kid.'

'Let's get some real food inside of you, Miles. Away from this mess that once was an apartment. I'm buying.'

And with those words, she pushed her uncle out of the door.

When Bass put his key into the lock of his apartment and opened his front door, he saw three bags on the floor in his hallway. His eyes fall on the bags and then he saw her. Charlie walked from his living room into his hallway. Bare feet, jeans, tank, a glass of whiskey in her hands.

'You're back,' Bass said.

'And you have some amazing observation skills,' she shot him her Charlie smirk and put her arms in front of her chest, that gorgeous smirk still on her face.

His eyes went to the bags on the floor again. Charlie watched him with amusement. It was not often that the badass general Monroe was looking a bit unsure of his tall self.

'So, uh...what's this?' he gestured to the bags.

'Well, you did say I could stay as long as I wanted to...'

'You're staying?' His eyes were going over her face, while his eyes fired up. He walked over to her, Charlie within touching range.

She could make some kind of smartass remark right now. But she didn't.

'That was kind off my plan.'

He pulled her close, his forehead against hers.

'Hey,' Charlie protested, when she felt a hand on her ass, ' I need to unpack'

'Screw unpacking,.' He kissed her roughly, while his hand joined his other, cupping her ass, lifting her of the floor.

He grinned when she let out an actual shriek. But he did not let her go. Charlie kissed him back. Both of them grinning into their kiss. And then, he moved his head a little bit away from hers. His mouth was close to her ear.

'Fuck, Charlie, I'm glad you are here.'

Charlie did not move, looked him into the eyes.

'It's where I want to be,' She pressed a kiss somewhere between his forehead and his curls, and then his eyes found his again, 'with you Bass.'

Chapter Text

Aaron Pittman was walking through the streets of Austin, a green backpack falling over his shoulders. He had managed to get a ride. A guy Aaron knew from town needed to make a trip to Austin to deliver some of his merchandise to costumers in the city and had been so friendly to let Aaron join him.

And now, Aaron was on his way to see Charlie. She had said goodbye to him a couple of months ago, all packed and ready to go. She had not wanted to make a big deal out of it, but one look at the face he had known for years, had told him she had a lot on her plate. He had hugged her in a kind of awkward way. Aaron had watched her grab her backs and leave.

For a moment he saw a younger Charlie. The Charlie with the same dark blonde hair, blue eyes and enough stubbornness for a whole village. But also a Charlie with less scars. He had been with her for literally every step of the way, for every step on the road they took from that day he watched Ben die to the present.

And his heart ached for her, for her stubborn silent way of dealing with it all.

She had looked back at him. Her eyes on him, on the town around him as he watched a sadness fall over her face.

But then, as Charlie always did, she straitened her shoulders, shot him one more grin and walked with a firm step ahead, like she had decided something.

Miles had given him the address. Here he was, Aaron thought, on his way to see Charlie. Charlie and probably Sebastian Monroe. So yeah, that could be a little bit awkward. When Miles had given Aaron the address he told him there was maybe something he needed to know first.

Then, as Miles told him where and with whom Charlie now shared a place, Aaron had tried to make a complete sentence. He had two doctorates but somehow putting words into sentences that made sense was a little too much to ask of his brain at that point.

He thought about that day that Monroe should have been executed. He had stood next to Charlie. He had watched Monroe approach them, chains around his feet and wrists. But he had not watched Monroe. He had watched Charlie. And saw her struggle.

He had watched her as she fled from the town square, after they had believed it was all over. But for Charlie, it had not been over. He had watched her tears when she had disappeared.

And since that day, he had seen it. More struggle from Charlie, a Monroe that never seemed far away. And no matter what either of them would tell anyone, he did not miss their looks, he did not miss the fact that Monroe was a giant dick, but to Charlie, he would show a complete different side.

Charlie had grown up to be a loyal, fair and strong young woman. Everybody always used to say she was so like Miles, but he saw so much of Ben in her too. Ben was kind, fair, forgiving. So much of that was in Charlie too, he saw it every day.

She had to face things, that in a world before the blackout, people his age did not even have to go through. But she had, and from a very young age, her world had been harsh, and impossible and so dark. But through it all, she had stayed Charlie. She had changed, but she was still her. She deserved anything good that came her way.

And now she had chosen to be with him. And although Aaron was not too enthusiastic about the kind of guy she was with, but then, no guy would be good enough for her in Aaron's eyes, he respected her decision. And if this was indeed what she wanted, than, well, Aaron would support her.

Rachel was still pissed, Miles was still going for his usual coping mechanism which included a lot of whiskey, so he was the first delegation of their interesting little group to take a look in Austin.

Because after everything, Charlie deserved that. She had become his family, he had become hers.

So now he was on his way to see Charlie and Sebastian Monroe. Sure, why not.

Charlie was kicking out her boots. She let out a deep sigh when she finally sat down in their living room, snuggling into a chair she liked most.

It had been three months since she had left Willoughby. She did not own that much. She had packed the pieces clothing that belonged to her, a few personal things, her books and some other things she wanted to take with her. Rachel had showed up at her place. She had told Charlie she did not want to lose her, that she did not want to lose another child to him. But Charlie had told her she was right here, and that she was not losing her. Not to him.

If she was losing her, it would be because her mother simply could not look behind what she felt was right. She had tried again, to explain to her mother that this was something between the both of them. It had been about listening, about trying to understand where she came from.

When she was done packing the last bag, she had told her mother that it was time for her life, to make her own decisions. That Miles knew where she could find her. Rachel had looked at her daughter, while Charlie nodded at her mother one more time.

She had let her bags fall of her shoulders, and had let them crash onto the floor of his hallway. She had unpacked, had put her hands in front of her chest and had looked around the apartment that would be her home now too with a content smile.

It had felt good. Finally, something made sense again, after a very long time.

Not long after she had arrived in Austin, she had applied for and secured a job at the city hospital. Her skills and knowledge she got from both Maggie and her grandpa earned her that job and she was working hard. Learning every day. Her days were long, but she liked it very much. She was making her own money, was developing her skills and was using her talents in a way that felt right.

She leaned back in the chair, listening to the quietness in the apartment around her.

Bass walked out of the kitchen and walked over to Charlie, stood behind her and put his arms on either side of her on the sides of the chair. He pressed a kiss in her hair and dangled a whiskey in front of her eyes.

He was proud of her, so damn proud. She had grabbed a change to get that job in the hospital with both hands, worked her ass, her damn fine ass, off. She went through one long day after another. He knew how much that job meant to her.

When Charlie had come back, after her trip to Willoughby she had simply told him she would stay. She had grinned at him, telling her that was kind of her plan.

Before the blackout, the whole moving in shit had been a big deal. But this was not that world anymore. Things moved fast. And this was Charlie. She did not make a big deal out of it. She had decided to stay, so she stayed. He had wanted her here, had not wanted to part with her anymore. They had already lost enough time. They shared an apartment, they shared a life.

he had given her a key, a wild kiss and neither of them made a mooshy moment out of it, as Miles would call it.

His upper lip curled into a fast grin when he thought about what they had done before they unpacked.

A panting , begging for more Charlie in his arms, when he had taken her against the wall of the hallway in the middle of all her unpacked stuff. He was not a patient man, so the unpacking was forgotten when he had been pushing her against the wall with every time he buried himself inside of her.

She unpacked.

She stayed.

She was still stubborn as hell, he could still be a complete ass. So they fought. She never took any of his shit and although she could be infuriating as hell, he would not take her any other way.

She worked, learned, made a life on her own.

He worked hard.

Sometimes they barely saw each other for days, ending up in passionate lovemaking when they did meet again.

And somehow, through all of that, Bass realised he had lost his heart to her. He was already fucked when it came to Charlie Matheson from the very beginning.

But on that one Wednesday afternoon, when she had moved her fucking fine hips away from him, anger and fire in her eyes at some really stupid argument , he had realised it. He loved her.

'You're home,' his voice was close to her ear, another of his kisses on her temple.

She took the drink from his hands when she smiled at him.

'Home and beat,' she said, as she kicked her boots away from her, curling up in the chair.

'Long day?' Bass asked, as he nuzzled his nose in her hair.

'A good day,' she smiled again. Although her feet hurt beyond anything and she was so tired she could not think straight, she would not have it any other way.

She was hungry, but right now, the whiskey Bass had poured her, burned gently in her throat. She felt Bass' hands on her shoulders, making slow movements with his fingers over tired muscles.

Bass watched her close her eyes, and he felt something stir in his groin. Charlie let out a small content gasp, when his hands were working on hard tensed shoulders. When he stepped away, Charlie let out a slow sigh. He poured himself another drink and was putting the bottle on a small table, when there was a knock on the door.

They locked eyes for a moment, when Bass moved to the door. His weapon close, like always.

Charlie heard a familiar voice in the hallway.

'Oh...Hi,' a pause, 'is Charlie home?'

Charlie was out of her chair within seconds as she rushed over to the front door.

'Aaron?' she said to herself.

She watched as Bass stood at the door, and Aaron stood in front of him. Both men uncomfortable. She fought back a smile.

Aaron's eyes lit up when he saw Charlie.

Charlie launched herself towards Aaron and hugged him before Aaron got a chance to speak.

He was a bit overwhelmed with her greeting at the door, but then he just smiled and hugged her back. Charlie was surprised at her own reaction. Aaron was a part of a life that already seemed so far away. To see him here, at her and Bass' place, the fact that he had taken the trouble to meet them here, meant the world.

'So good to see you,' she said, close to his in his ear, when she still not let go of him.

Bass was watching Charlie with amusement.

Charlie pulled back and they grinned at each other. 'Come in,' she nodded, 'I am sure I can offer you a drink? Or two?'

Aaron looked at Monroe, who was standing tall behind Charlie.

'Hey,' Bass shrugged, 'any friend of Charlie 's...'

And then, he held out his hand. Aaron looked at him like he really had gone crazy this time.

'Sure,' Aaron mumbled to himself, not believing himself what was happening here this afternoon. But then he nodded, and shook Monroe's hand.

When Bass was grabbing another glass from the kitchen and walked back to pour Aaron a drink, Aaron was standing kind of awkwardly in their living room. Bass passed Aaron a glass which he took from him.

They guy was trying, trying for Charlie, Bass had to give him that.

He had always kind of liked Stay Puft. He was close to Charlie and always had her best interest at heart. They guy had walked all the way to Philly with her, and had been there for her many times.

The night of his execution was one blur of haunting memories and forsaken darkness but he remembered seeing two people in front of the steps of the court house. Stay Puft had been with her, with a Charlie that had so many emotions stirring in her eyes, that he had the courage to ask her to take care of Miles. Maybe, maybe not everyone was filled with hate and loathing for him. Maybe somebody would remember him. One second, he had the crazy thought that that person could be her, when he watched her devastating face.

Aaron was still looking at him with fidgety eyes. They made some stupid small talk. They talked mostly about Charlie, a safe topic for both man.

Aaron was looking round their living room, while his eyes fell on the shelves of books, close to the fire place. He walked over and went over the titles. His eyes fell on a worn copy of a travel book. Venice. He once had been there, had an amazing time when he mixed work meetings with the more nicer things in life. And when in Italy, those things consisted of fine food, pasta and cappuccino's at that little restaurant away from the Grand Canal.

He took the book in his hands, flipped through it and looked at Charlie.

'Where did you get this kiddo?'

'Oh, I found it somewhere in a safe house on the road.'

She shared a look with Bass, both of them remembering. Charlie remembering the colourful pictures that afternoon she had gone through the book, Bass remembering her face and how her eyes had lit up when she had read the book. It had been one of the things that Charlie held in her hands when she had unpacked. His eyes had fallen on the book and he had swallowed heavily when he saw the book again. He had put it in her bag when she was out getting some more wood on that rainy afternoon, now months ago. It had been an impulse, he had wanted her to have the book and hoped she would not walk over to yell at him the moment she found out he had done just that. She never yelled. And he had realised, that even through all of it, she had still kept it.

It had gotten some punches from their long days on the road, but there it was. She had smiled at him knowingly, and had gave it a place on the shelves in the living room. Her collection of books had grown, something that made Bass remember Ben and his love of books. The travel book stood side by side with novels, more travel books and her books she needed for her training.

'Did I not give you that one travel book for your birthday once?' Aaron was lost in time for a moment, when he could almost picture the cover of the heavy book Charlie loved so much.

'My sixteenth, and yes you did. I loved it.'

'I know you did, kiddo. 'That book almost weighted as much as you did.'

Aaron's voice was soft now, remembering how much Charlie was absorbed in the pictures of that book. How much she had absorbed his stories about his travelling around the world. How much he had wanted for her to see those places too. How much his heart broke for the thought that this smart young girl would probably never see those places, if they were even still there.

The blackout had destroyed complete cities, taking the culture and history with that destruction.

Aaron put the book carefully back in its place, while there was a silence in the room. Bass had to turn his head away, when he saw the change in Charlie's eyes. Remembering her face when she had told him about those places she had wanted to see with her every own eyes. Scandinavia, Scotland , Morocco, Africa, New Zealand. How a sadness had fallen over her face, and her heart wrenching voice that told him it did not matter anymore.

It had broken his damn heart, seeing her like that. And when he looked at Stay Puft across the room, he realised his heart was not the only heart breaking for her.

Aaron gently changed the subject, asking her about her work, nodding at the many books Charlie had collected for her new job and training. She was happy to tell him, talking and explaining with enthusiastic gestures. And Bass was so proud of her that moment. His woman, Charlie.

Small talk had turned into a couple of drinks and Bass and Aaron were both able to relax a little bit more. Charlie had asked Aaron to stay for dinner. At first Aaron had protested but both men knew Aaron would not have a chance against her stubbornness.

The table was illuminated by soft lights and the food was good.

'So, Aaron,' Bass swallowed , when both Charlie and Aaron almost fell of their chairs when they heard how he used the guys first name. Charlie raised an eyebrow at him, a mocking grin about to break free around her lips.

' What? It is his name, right?' he felt irritation, and his voice sounded rough and low.

'It sure is, Monroe,' Aaron took another gulp from the fine whiskey Monroe gave him. The guy had good hooch, something that made this whole afternoon a little bit less surreal.

Bass took another swig from his drink, letting out a deep breath before he continued.

'Charlie told me you own a plane?'

'Sure do, all ready to go on some runway across the country,' Aaron answered him.

Charlie found herself with two guys at her table, talking about planes, helicopters and technical details.

'So, why the sudden interest in my plane?' Aaron wanted to know.

'He knows about the road trip idea.' Charlie said drily.

'Ah, the one where YOU use my helicopter, plane AND money to go to Italy and eat a lot of pasta and drink a lot of cappuccinos?

'Yeah, that would be the one,' Charlie laughed.

'I am hurt Charlie, and here I thought we were friends because of me...' He poked Charlie with his elbow in a friendly gesture, 'not because of my money.'

'Sorry,' Charlie smirked at him in a tone telling him she was not sure at all.

Bass watched both Aaron and Charlie from the other side of the table. He was actually enjoying himself.

'So tell me something, on that plane of yours,' his drink in his hand, 'any chance there were some hot flight attendants?'

And then, Aaron let out a deep laugh. Bass joined him not soon after.

'Well, there was this one very interesting girl from New York...' Aaron said with a genuine smile on his face.

'Tell me...' Bass said, a smirk on his face.

Charlie rolled his eyes at both men when Bass threw his challenging smirk that still did a stupid amount of good things to her stomach, and Aaron started to talk.

Later that night, when they had said goodbye to Aaron, Bass watched Charlie. Her face was on the pillow next to him, her hair was covering her bare shoulders and was flowing over her back. She had her back turned to him He knew she was not asleep. He was laying on his back, one arm under his head.

'I miss Miles, Bass.' Her voice sounded so small.

He moved his hand under her neck. He shifted her body so that her back was tucked against his chest when his other arm wrapped around her waist, the weight of her breasts brushing against his skin.

He kissed the soft skin behind her ear.

He did not say it out loud, but Charlie could feel his thoughts almost palpable in the air.

Me too. 

Chapter Text

Charlie had the afternoon off. She had taken a couple of personal hours, something she rarely did. But now, just after lunch hour, she was on her way to a particular store down town that sold all kinds of things from the world from before the blackout. It was a cheerful collection and mix of books, clothing, old cards, used maps, memorabilia people had brought back from all over the world, children's toys and trinkets. The story was a labyrinth of small paths between cupboards.

Charlie loved the store and the friendly woman and owner of the store, Donna, knew her by name. She would put a book away she knew Charlie would like and was always helpful and in for a talk about all the gossip around town.

And this afternoon, Charlie hoped Donna would have a hidden treasure or two in her store.

After Aaron and Bass talked about that one flight attendant the night Aaron had joined them for dinner for the first time, Charlie had watched both men turn into a couple of teenagers. She had rolled her eyes at the both of them.

She had aimed that rolling of the eyes particular at Bass, because it was another moment he could mess with her about something pre-blackout, another reference she did not completely get. Aaron had taken the time to explain to her what a flight attendant was and since then a plan had formed in the back of her head. She just had to wait for the right moment.

She had watched both men that were so very important to her, laugh and talk. It had been a good Donnaning. An Donnaning where she had been moved beyond words that Aaron had made the effort to try. Try and see what her life was like, try and make an effort to get to know a man she cared so much for. Try and come and see what was important in her life. All things she needed so badly from somebody else, from her mother, but also from Miles.

A couple of more drinks and diners had followed since then. Bass made an effort too to get to know Aaron, and Charlie started to understand that Bass actually liked Aaron, more than he wanted to show her at this point. She understood why he did not show her that. He was not used to friendship anymore, although she knew how much he longed for that. To be part of a family. To share a simple dinner with friends. To joke around, feel a part of a conversation.

When Bass was busy or out of town, she and Aaron would meet up somewhere. They would revisit old memories, talk about Ben and Danny, Maggie and Nora with a smile and a heavy heart at the same time. But Charlie felt always safe enough with Aaron to talk, to remember. Every now and then she would ask Aaron about Miles, about her mother. And Aaron would always answer, but never push her.

So life moved on, day by day. Her life was not complete, but she found herself in a place where not only griDonna and loss filled her, but she also knew what it was like to feel moments of happiness, of light. Of feeling content. Her life was not complete, and she would never be whole again. But she was living her life.

Charlie pushed the door of the store open, and walked into the small store, a little ring from above her head welcoming her in. She met with the warm smile of Donna who was, as always, busy arranging and unpacking something.

'Charlie,hi, good to say you again. What can I do for you today?'

'Well,' a mischievous smile appeared on Charlie's face, 'maybe you could help me with something...'

Bass was in bed on his back, his arm tucked under his head, while he was waiting for Charlie. The blanket fell loosely around his bare chest. She had disappeared a while ago and her eyes had not been able to hide that trouble was on its way.

He just hoped it was the good kind of trouble.

Charlie looked at herself in an old mirror in their bathroom. She watched herself from her feet to her head. The high heels felt kind of new, but she loved them. She straightened out her tight skirt before she walked to the door, her hand on the doorknob. Before she left the bathroom, she tucked back a lock of hair that had broken away from the sophisticated bun she had made on the back of her head, before she readjusted the silky scarf around her neck.

Bass heard her first, lifting his head from the pillow. He knew that sound. Sebastian Monroe had missed that sound. He recognised it, but he was just not used to that sound in his hallway. It sounded a hell of a lot like high heels on a wooden floor. When he saw Charlie he almost choked.

Charlie Matheson was indeed wearing high heels.

Oh hell.

Long legs, a damn tight skirt over her thighs and a smooth little blouse hugging her breasts, a couple of the buttons left open. The logo of a long forgotten airline on her skirt and a little scarf that was loosely around the smooth curves of her neck. Her lush lips turned into a modest smile, while her blue eyes were firing with challenge. Her hair in a knot on her head, giving him a beautiful view of her neck and shoulders.

Charlie felt a smug satisfaction at seeing Bass' eyes roaming all over her body. Desire and a shocked kind of surprise in his eyes., his mouth open, his tongue pressed between his teeth.

If he wanted to be an ass , use another of his references to the past and talk with Aaron about one damn fine flight attendant. Fine. But tonight, it was payback time.

'Welcome on this flight. I am Charlie, your flight attendant for today.'

She practically purred the words, while Bass smirked.

'The emergency exits are on your left and right,' she gestured with her arms and hands around her, the way Donna had showed her when she told her exactly what kind of duties one had on a plane when being a flight attendant. Charlie took those responsibilities very serious of course.

Bass' laugh rumbled through the room, when he watched Charlie. He moved his legs over the side of the bed, ready to walk over to her.

'Please remain in your seat, sir.' She said with a stern voice, when she took one slow step forward. The sound of her high heels on the floor.

'Yes ma'm.' His eyes were on her hips and he fuck, he was hard and throbbing at the sight of her.

Charlie walked up to him in a mind-blowing way. Fuck, he wanted to fuck here in that skirt and those heels. Right now.

'I am here to make sure your flight is safe and very...' another step forward, 'very...' heels on the floor, ' ...comfortable.' Bass was not sure, but he was pretty damn sure Charlie just moved her eyes to his groin for a quick second.

Charlie stood now in front of him and kissed him, leaning down to give him one hell of a view, the curves of her breast within reach.

He kissed her back but she pushed him away. And then, she kneeled down in front of him and her hands ended up moving his boxer away. He was already ready for her, aching and needing her. Finally, she lowered her mouth to where he ached for her the most. He growled something incoherent, when she felt wetness and pressure around his balls and then over his head. She was warm, her lips lush around him. He grabbed her hair and pulled her closer.

Charlie watched him, a moment of his eyes locking with hers, when her lips did not let go of him. She watched how the smirk was gone, and raw desire was now in his eyes. She loved seeing him like this, lust filled eyes, his eyes on her, his body under her, tasting him, feeling him.

When Bass could not take it anymore he got up and moved Charlie against the wall that was closest to their bed. He had to have her. He turned her around, and spread her legs. He took a moment to take in her exposed neck, her ass, her long legs, and the fucking amazing way she looked in those high heels. He had to fucking have her, because else the throbbing need for her would make him explode.

Charlie let him take over control, she felt how he placed her against the wall and now he was taking his damn time to look at her. His fingers went through her hair, letting go of the bun on her head, letting her hair flow over her shoulders.

And then, his lips were in her neck, his large hands firmly on her hips, digging into her. Moving her skirt up over her hips.

'You...' his fingers moved over her clit, he took himself in his hand, 'you are a sight for sore eyes.' Bass voice was filled with lust and low rough anticipation.

He pushed himself inside of her, in one quick long forceful movement. Charlie tilted her head back and moaned. He waited. He pushed himself inside of her again.

She was between their bedroom wall and Bass while he took her with an intensity that made her come within minutes, her fingers digging into the wall in front of her. Her body was shaking with pleasure while she felt how Bass lost control too. His hands moved firmly over her hips and pushed her over his hardness one last time when he groaned her name, and filled her.

Bass looked at Charlie in front of him. Her skirt pulled up, his legs between hers, between high heels and smooth skin.

Charlie felt how his warm come started to spread to the inside of her thighs in a lazy very erotic way.

'Best...fucking flight I've ever been on...Charlie...' his breathing was still fast.

Charlie grinned. Payback was sweet, in so many ways.

He turned her around in his arms. Kissed her on her nose, on her lips. Damn, she was able to do this to him, Every damn time. He loved it. He knew he would have her again, soon.

He gently placed her on the bed in front of her, his hands moving over her ankles, the high heels falling on the floor. And with her core still pulsating, Bass slowly helped her out of her skirt and blouse. Gentle fingers opening the small buttons. Her skin was glowing with sweat, her cheeks a warm blush. Her eyes lazy.

Charlie let Bass push her into the pillows, while her body was still feeling him. Everywhere.

Later, she was almost asleep, wrapped up and warm against his chest.

'Don't get rid of that skirt and those heels Charlie...'

'I won't Bass.' She grinned, her lips moving against his skin.

'So, I guess you liked them?'

'I thought I had made myself very clear Charlie,' his voice was close to her ear, low, hot. 'But maybe I was not clear enough.' His tongue was playing with her ear lobe, while his hand moved her thighs apart.

Charlie made a mental note to thank Donna later, for her help getting her that old air hostess uniform.

For finding her those heels that made her look amazing, feel in control, without making her feel cheap.

And then, she felt him against her leg that she had wrapped around his upper leg. He was hard. It made her ache for him again. She felt his other hand move over her shoulder, her upper arm, playing with her body.

She would thank Donna later, but right now, when Bass started to work his magic and hot air escaped her mouth in a needing moan, when Bass was kissing her roughly and then slowly, passionately, she was going to enjoy some more time with her guy.

Chapter Text

Bass found himself on a wagon again. Close to her. Again. On the road to Willoughby. Again.

He sat next to a silent Charlie, her long locks flying in the wind, her eyes straight ahead. It was years ago, but here they were again. They would be in Willoughby soon. This time, when he looked to his left, her eyes were one a spot in the distance, yet again. He bowed his head to the moving wagon under him and then he looked at her again. He moved an arm to her back and rested it gently just under her shoulder blades. She did not look up.

He understood. So, he sat next to her in silence.

Two days ago

Charlie was eating breakfast with an anatomy book right in front of her. Time was scarce today so she had to multitask and combine breakfast with catching up on her reading. She was concentrating while eating some fruit when there was a knock on the front door that slowly pulled her out of her thoughts. She put her apple down on the table. When she opened the door, Miles was standing in front of her. Charlie felt a warm wave through her at the familiar side of the man she loved so very deeply. She could not help but smile at her uncle, surprised to see him there. But then she saw his eyes.

'Hey kid, can I come in?' Miles eyes were serious, while there was some nervousness on his face. It made her heart feel heavy.

'Miles, what's wrong?' Charlie's smiled had faded when she felt dread appearing instead.

Miles had heard her question, but had to take in a deep breath. He had been on the road for hours, riding nonstop to get to her.

'Miles, tell me.'

'You need to come home, kid. I'm sorry...' The rest of his words were a blur when Charlie's eyes filled with tears. She took a step back, and felt how Miles closed the distance between her. She shook her head. Shock in her wide eyes when her lips parted but she did not know what to say.

That's what Bass saw from a distance, when he was almost home. He watched Miles standing in front of their building. Charlie's face lit up with surprise and then her face dropped. She stumbled back. He watched how Miles took a step forward, catching her. Miles' arms wrapped slowly around Charlie. He started to run.

Charlie had packed some of her things, while Miles had stood in their living room. Silently. Bass had wrapped a comforting hand around her neck and Charlie had closed her eyes, feeling his touch. But then she had stepped away from him, not knowing how to let him in now, when Miles was waiting for them to get ready so they could get on the road.

And now Charlie was back in Willoughby, a town she kept on returning too.

Charlie let some friends hug her, but then took a step back. She felt strangely numb, standing in the silent house. Friends and family had gathered and the energy in the room was like time stood still. She had not allowed herself to cry. She couldn't.

She walked into the living room and then she saw him. Staring in front of him, looking at empty hands.

'Hey,' she simply said, when she sat down next to him.

'Hey Charlie,' he said, tears filling his eyes.

Then here was more silence, when Charlie shifted on the couch. Tension around her throat.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

'She fought so hard, kiddo.' Tears were in his broken voice now too.

'I know she did. I am so sorry,' Charlie's voice sounded not like her own. Then she gently moved her hand towards his, and put her hand in his, 'I'm so sorry Aaron.'

'Thanks kiddo,' Aaron managed to get out, before he had to look at his hand again, this time it was in Charlie's. Her hand felt warm and strangely comforting. Then he felt another raw wave of realising that the woman he loved so much, his Priscilla, was not here anymore. One accident with her horse when they were returning one late evening from friends, one concussion later and she simply never woke up anymore. Just like that. He had to say goodbye today. He had kissed her forehead one last time this morning, and then he had sat down on this couch and had not moved anymore.

At the end of the day Charlie found herself in the small cemetery. She had to burry so many of the people that were a part of her. But today, they were not on the road anymore. They were not rushed. There were no distractions. They had not another battle ahead. Today, the seconds stretched out in front of her, one painful second after the other. Today she had watch Aaron, her family, say goodbye to his.

Bass had told her one day not too long ago, with a broken voice, about his parents. About his sisters. They had found themselves home and he had been staring out of their living room window, when Charlie would find out that it was his youngest sister's birthday today. Charlie had walked up to him and had put her forehead against his back. And then, he had started to talk. She had listened.

Without any doubt, Charlie knew that this, this afternoon, was impossible for him. But here he was. For her. For Aaron. Not too long after she had sat in silence again on the couch next to a broken Aaron, he had walked over. He had shook hands with Aaron, and told him how very sorry he was. There had been a short nod between the man, and Bass had locked eyes with her for a moment, giving her and Aaron room again but telling her with his deep blue eyes that he was around.

He gave her the strength to stand on her feet today, when she felt she was going to break at any second. He had his jaws locked, his eyes were almost black, but he was tall behind her.

Today was a day filled with another final goodbye, and Charlie felt sobs waiting in her chest, felt tears that wanted to fall. But she did not allow them. She stood there, when she heard birds somewhere over her head, flying free in the air, and told herself to be strong. She watched her mom, Miles, her grandpa. Rachel found her eyes for a second, and both woman looked at each other for a moment. Their greeing had been short, before Charlie had stepped back. She was here for Aaron. Because he had stood behind her, next to her, so many times when she had said her goodbyes, together with him.

Bass watched the lines of grieve on her face, watched the pain in her eyes and it almost broke him. She stood there. Strong. Trying to keep her shoulders straight. For Aaron. His heart poured over with love and respect for this amazing woman. Her shoulders almost touched his chest. He stood there. With her. For her.

She watched the coffin in front of them. She heard a heartbreaking sound coming from Aaron. He was surrounded by all of them, but Charlie knew that he was lost in his own grieve. She put a hand on his upper arm.

Bass felt her hand glide into his. when Charlie was finally reached out for him. He felt the light tremble running through her palm. He wrapped his hand around her, taking in her smaller hand in his larger hand. He slowly wrapped his fingers closely around her skin.

Charlie tried to stay strong, tried to keep the waves from coming.

But then, a sob escaped her throat. Tears were crushing her. Bass felt how her pain almost drove him to his own knees. He let out a shaky breath through clenched jaws. Miles turned around. His arm had been around Rachel but when he saw his niece break, Bass standing behind her, tears appeared in his eyes. Bass saw the powerless rage through Miles and then had to look away.

When the beautiful ceremony had been over, after Aaron had told everybody how they had met on a rainy day in New York, after he spoke lovingly about Priscilla and said his goodbyes, the small group of friends and family were around Aaron, shaking hands. Patting him on the back.

Bass felt how Charlie started to wave on her feet, he watched her blue eyes lost and grey. Without thinking he stepped even closer and took her in his arms. He started walking and did not stop when they had left the church and the small group behind them.

There was a small bench and he slowly guided her down onto it. She held on to him, when tears finally started to fall. She had not cried all day but now she could not stop. There was so much silence in the air today, there was so much definitive goodbye around her. Aaron's pain, memories of other graves, of other people they had all lost.

Miles kneeled down before her. He had watched how Bass took care of Charlie and had wanted to be there, with him, with Charlie. He could not think of any word in the entire fucking world that would make any sense right now. He had watched her, lose so much, and there was not a damn thing he could do. And now, after she had lost so much, she was here, here for Aaron. God, she was better than all of them together.

He moved slowly from the position in front of her, to her other side. Sitting down on the bench, dark brown eyes filled with powerlessness and hurt. She was still sobbing into Bass' neck, who was slowly cradling her. So het sat there, silently. He waited.

When her sobs became more silent, she turned in Bass arms. She moved to Miles and put her head on his chest. Miles wrapped her in his arms, tilting his head and letting it rest on her head, when her hand was still firmly in Bass'.

The three of them sat down on that small bench. Together.

After she had sat for what felt for days on that bench, she had told Bass and Miles she had to go back. Look for Aaron. Miles had pressed a kiss in her hair and before she walked away from them, Bass had moved some hair away from her face, pushing it back gently behind her ear.

Both Miles and Bass were now alone. They watched Charlie who sat down next to Aaron, who was watching straight ahead, while he sat down in front of Priscilla's grave.

Both men had kept their distance. Bass leaned into a tree not far away, fighting memories of the he had sat down in front of new graves. Miles was standing a little bit to his right. They watched Charlie leaned her head towards Aaron arm.

'Thanks for coming to Austin, to tell her, Miles.'

Miles swallowed something away. 'I just ..I wanted her to hear it from me.'

They watched Charlie, who was talking softly to Aaron.

'She has been through enough, Bass.'

Bass watched the frustration and pain on Miles' face.

The cemetery was silent around them. Here they were again. Another cemetery, another grave. Bass. Him. Miles remembered that day, when he found Bass with a bottle of whiskey and a gun in his other hand when his family had been ripped away from him. He remembered telling him he would be there.

And now, he watched his niece, a young woman that had stormed into his life, telling her she needed him to walk his ass over to Philly to get her brother. He watched her, sitting next to Aaron. Another grave, another cemetery.

He had not been there for Bass the way he once promised him. Time had taken them both far from that day. And no matter what happened, no matter how much Rachel pushed him into taken more distance away from bass. He couldn't. He had made that promise. He had been an asshole to Bass. Bass had been an asshole too in the past.

But it did not matter, because hell, they were brothers. Asshole or no asshole, fucked up past or no fucked up past. That would not change.

'I'm sorry Bass. I should have...should have had your back there that night.'

Bass narrowed his eyes at Miles, surprised at the rare fact that Miles was fucking apologizing.

'I was wrong to question you there. It was wrong for to just jump in and believe Rachel .I know you would never hurt Charlie. I know she is safe with you. I was a total ass...' 

'Yes, you were..' It was a low grunt, but there was something in Bass' voice that told him that maybe, things were not all gone to hell between the both of them.

Both men locked eyes and then they both watched Charlie and Aaron.

And as he watched Charlie got up from Priscilla's grave , he questioned if Charlie realised, how she kept on bringing Bass and him back in the same damn spot. he watched how Charlie reached out a hand for Aaron to take, and both of them got up and walked slowly back to both Miles and Bass.

When Charlie walked up to her uncle and Bass, she felt Bass' arm around her shoulder. She looked back one more time, following Aaron's eyes.

'I don't know how you do this every time, kiddo.' Aaron sniffed, his voice raw and so sad.

Truth was, Charlie did not know either. But then she looked at Miles, she looked at Bass. She held Bass' eyes in hers, as she started to speak, turning her eyes on Aaron.

'You hold on to the good things, Aaron. You let the people you love take care of you. You hold on to them.'

Aaron looked at where he had to say goodbye to a woman he loved so much, then he looked at the sky. The light was slowly changing. And then, he turned around, he walked next to Charlie, when Miles and Bass were walking with them to the small open gate of the cemetery.

Not only them, but also her words kept him company for every heavy step back away from Priscilla and the life they had.

You hold on to the good things, Aaron. You let the people you love take care of you. You hold on to them.

Two days later, Charlie found herself at Miles' apartment. She had just said goodbye to Aaron, with words and an embrace between old friends and the promise she would be there if he needed her. She had hugged her grandpa goodbye and shared a quick hug with her mom. The goodbye had been less tensed than the last, and for now, Charlie knew this was all she could give her mom. Now only time would give them both the answer to the question if they could be what they both hoped for.

But today, she would head back to Austin with Bass. First, Miles had asked them both of them over for a drink. She had seen the relieve in her uncle's eyes when Bass had nodded at him and had walked with Charlie to his place not far from the main street of Willoughby.

They had shared a drink in silence, made some small talk. She watched her uncle, she watched Bass. There was tension in the room, but there was also old friendship, two men who knew each other their whole lives. Something had changed in the last couple of days.

'Maybe when you have some time, you can join Aaron when he is coming for dinner one day?' Bass asked, without looking up from his glass of whiskey.

Charlie could not hide a grin, when she heard the casual low tone in Bass' voice, knowing how much it would mean to him.

Miles nodded at Bass. Bass knew it would probably take some time for the stubborn ass to join them, but when he would show up, he would have a good bottle of whiskey waiting for his brother.

A moron or not, an ass or not, he still considered Miles as a brother. They had both signed up for that gig a long time ago, and hell if he would come back on that promise.

'Yeah, I guess I could do that, Bass.'

'Good.' Charlie said, finishing her drink when she looked with a grin at both men.

'Good?' Miles repeated her word with his usual dash of sarcasm when he gave her his best impression of her.

'Yeah...good, because I love the both of you and I need the both of you in my life.'

Bass jerked his head back to Charlie. His eyes were wide, his face in shock. Charlie just realised what she had said and locked eyes with Bass. But then she smiled. Bass still could only look at her in shock.

'We better get on the road, don't you think?' Charlie said slowly.

Bass only nodded at her, finishing his drink and putting it back in the table in front of him. Miles sighed a silent what the hell in his head at realising that his niece loved his best hell indeed. But Bass' face was quite entertaining, sooting some of the what the hell moment.

Charlie said goodbye to Miles, a strong hug, a smile between uncle and niece.

'You'll be all right kid?'

'I will, Miles,' she said softly, when she looked at Bass, 'thank you Miles. For coming to get me. For everything.' Charlie got on the wagon that was waiting for them.

'You take care of her, Bass.' Miles walked over to Bass, who was about to join Charlie.

'I will man.' Bass leaned into the wagon, one hand against the wood, as he was almost ready himself to climb up the wagon.

'I know you will, Bass.'

Miles stretched out a hand in front of him. Bass looked at that familair hand before he shook it. And then Miles pulled him close, slapping him on the shoulder in a way they had not done in such a long time that Bass was cornered with the feeling of an almost forgotten bound he had forgotten he could feel.

Both men looked into each other eyes. Brown into Blue. Monroe and Matheson. Matheson and Monroe. They were still them. No republic, no loss, no damage, no woman, no other bullshit could and would change them. Two brothers.

'Take her home,' Miles said, when he looked at Bass.

Bass climbed up the wagon.

'I will, Miles.'

Bass smiled, that bright smile that was genuine and familiar. The smile that belonged to Bass.

That smile that took both men to Jasper, where it all had begun.

'You morons stay out of trouble,' Miles said to them both, when Bass put the wagon into motion. '...although I don't know why I even bother to say that...' Miles mumbled softly under his breath.

Miles watched how Bass grinned. 'Trouble? What's that brother?' The smirk plastered on the moron's face, Miles sighed, shook his head but had to grinn back... 'Don't worry, I will take my woman home, safely, brother.'

Charlie turned around one more time.

The wind played with Charlie's hair, when she turned around to look at her uncle one more time, a wide grin appearing around her lips, her body swaying with the ruthem of the wagon.

While she could feel Bass' leg against her own, as he drove the wagon and would take her home, their home, she smiled one more time at Miles. Miles smiled back at her.

Charlie Matheson had told him she loved him, that day in Willoughby. He had been in shock, knowing he damn well, he had felt the same. He knew she knew.

It had taken him weeks, but finally, when she was drinking her whiskey like a true Matheson, he had walked over to her. He had put the glass with the dark liquid back on the table and out of her hands.

He had taken her chin in between his fingers. His voice had been low and hoarse.

'I love you, Charlie. With every fucking thing I have. I love you.'

Charlie felt warmth inside of her, growing through every part of her. She had already known. She knew he knew. She had waited. She had known he had to do this at his own pace. She had waited until he was ready.

He had picked her up, felt her weight against his chest, in his arms. He had watched her. Watching her eyes with a burning intensity.

'I love you, Bass.' Her eyes were open, and so blue, and free and watching him. Her voice was sweet and firm and determined.

He had walked her to their bed. And when he had filled her, his eyes had been still firing into hers, just like the day he had known what she felt like for the very first time.

On the road, in that safe house on the kitchen counter of that small kitchen, in the middle of the night with the moonlight falling inside and her hot breath in his neck.

Charlie Matheson would never see Venice. Aaron's plane would never leave the ground. But Bass took her places, she never thought she would see. He took her to a place where she would know how silly, loved, happy and without words a woman could feel, when he had surprised the hell out of her, asking her to marry her. Her answer had been a complete and utter yes. He took her to a place where she would now what it would be like to feel life inside of her belly. He took her to a place where she would know what a joy and challenge it was, to raise a family of two stubborn, fierce, beautiful, strong children.

So, she got to know what love was, what being a mother was, what being a wife was. She explored all those places and took in each and every moment with Bass next to her side.

Miles had joined them for that bottle of whiskey that Bass kept in his home for the day Miles had joined them. Many more bottles would follow. When sitting in front of their fire place, Bass, Miles, and her, Miles had once made a joke.

A joke after hearing his niece talk about her work at the hospital, that one day, she would run the damn place.

It turned out, he would be right.

And at that day, Bass had never been more proud of her. He would still surprise her at work, and her desk, or his desk at his office for that matter, would be the place of many passionate moments. Because, that was just them. She would protest, tell him she had to work. He would tell her to hell and screw work,she was fucking running the damn place, before he put his mouth on hers roughly and pull her body close to his.

Sometimes it takes a lifetime to bring you to your knees. Sometimes life gives you something, everything, to see it all ripped away from you again. It can take a lifetime, but it can also take only a second to almost lose your mind, to see your life crumble before you.

You lose, people leave you on the side of a road, people die in your arms. You stare death in the eyes, you know you will never travel the road you wanted to travel. You became somebody else you thought you would be.

You lose yourself, death cornering you, families die on you, friends leaving you, until you look back and you don't know, you honestly don't know, how it all got out of hand so very much.

But sometimes it takes only two, two to know, two to realise that you are in fact not as alone as you thought.

That out there, there is a person who should not have become what they have become to you. They really should not have. But they did. And it is messed up, but so is this whole life. So were you, at one point.

So you hold on, you learn to let them in, you learn you were able to give something to the other.

You remember to love again. You remember to trust again.

It will take time. It won't be easy. But you will.

Sometimes, it takes two.

Just two.

                                                                                                                    The End