So, here we are...My final piece for the Armada! It has been an amazing way to write and explore all those ideas I had written down in my notebook. I love writing Charloe, but I also loved writing new scenes, more back story and explore more characters and everything Revolution. Writing those pieces was a great way to anchor love for characters in the whole story.
This piece is the second piece for my last prompt (292). The first piece was called Fury in Vegas and was about Connor meeting a certain warlord called Duncan Page in New Vegas, when he went there with Charlie and Bass to get more men for their fight. And while Connor is having a drink with said warlord in her tent, Bass and Charlie are having a drink on their own. Together.
I do not own anything from Revolution, this is fan fiction, daydreaming in words about what could have happened too within the story of Revolution.
Let's go to new Vegas...
Fury and her in New Vegas.
The first slow pastel light of sunrise moves over New Vegas, hitting the banner with the name of the city behind him with its first light. When Connor leaves the tents behind as he walks back to their wagon with Duncan on his mind and on his skin and his hands in his pockets with an easy grin on his face, he finds his dad near a fire at their rendez vous point. He should be surprised. But he isn't. Right there, in that field, near their wagon and close to a fire his dad is watching the last flames of the night. His wide shoulders clad with leather jacket. Charlie is curled up and asleep next to him, close to him, with his dad's bedroll around her.
Ten hours earlier
So walking to and into New Vegas with his kid and Charlie Matheson to ask his ex girlfriend for a favour had a lot of fun.
He is Sebastian Monroe and he does not do uncomfortable. But hell, there in that warm humid tent with Duncan smirking at him, Connor asking him if that was Duncan Page and Charlie too fucking close and informing if Duncan knew who he was, had made him uncomfortable as hell in about five fucking seconds. It did not help that Charlie pulled out her gun and had aimed it right at Duncan's fucking face.
And now, after that meeting from hell and they are outside Duncan's tent again, Bass cannot shake loose his kid's eyes who are on him. And when they are not on him, Connor's eyes are on her. On the one woman he does want Connor's eyes on. Vegas is filled with girls and he wishes Connor would stop thinking with the wrong head.
The meeting with Duncan is over and he really, really needs a drink. Negotiations are over too and after sunrise they will leave New Vegas with fresh men for their fight. But that means there is one night between there and now. Charlie is walking in between them, as they walk through Vegas together on their way to a decent bar. As far as decent goes here in Vegas.
Bass had nodded at her when Charlie had suggested to get a drink somewhere. He could not help but to see yet another resemblance to Miles when she had asked who was in for a round of drinks . He had agreed. Truth was, he could really fucking need one. Or two. Or a whole god damn bottle. Anything that would make him stop think about her now.
The flames of torches illuminate the canvasses of tents around them, as people are drinking and whores are smiling and giggling, curling themselves around potential customers. Charlie walks in between both Monroe men and takes in the city like she never did something else with a soft mocking smirk around her eyes and he cannot not look at the swagger of her hips and her confidence in those steps and swinging hips that are temptation in feminine curves. He watches Connor from the corner of his good eye again. And again, he feels annoyance for his kid walking so close to Charlie and he really wants to smack that look from his kid's face when he is looking at Charlie a bit too long.
Because him and Charlie, they go way back. Philly. That bar in Pottsboro where those assholes dared to touch her. Her in his arms when he had walked them both to safety, against his chest. Him making that fire and starting those long hours of making sure she kept on breathing. A cool cloth against her forehead. His eyes moving over that brand, his brand, burned into her wrist. Feeling something stir in himself the moment he did.
Charlie full of fire when she had woken up and had tried to kill him in the first five minutes. Long weeks on the road where she had let him in, if only for small periods of time. But she had. Charlie had.
The first time she went hunting and she had dropped the squirrel near his thigh with that Matheson smirk in her eyes and one eyebrow raised.
The first time she went to sleep and fell asleep with her back towards him.
The first time they got into that fight as some pieces of scum had tried to get their hands on their stuff and Charlie. He had fought with her, fighting back to back, so close he could feel her shoulder blades brush his.
The first time she stepped up for him in front of Rachel in that Mill in Willoughby.
The first time he got to fight with her and Miles, huddled up behind that wall after they had talked strategy and he had counted on her and her skills to cover them.
He knows it is fucking pathetic, but she has started to mean more than she should. And hell, he is a man, not a saint and he has noticed those eyes, those tits and those fucking hips that flow into one damn fine ass. Having her around is torture nonstop when he aches to taste just a bit of her. Strike that. All of her.
He knows it is never going to fucking happen. So after the ex girlfriend. After Charlie shoving a gun in said ex girlfriend face, an image that does not help with the aching inside his pants, after looks from Connor and his own annoyance for that, he is now in a bar. He had bought his kid and Charlie a round of drinks.
Connor had told them both soon after that he was going to look for some company on his own and Bass had not missed the almost biting tone in his kid's voice when he had looked at him and Charlie. So that meant after Connor left the tent, that it was him and her again. Was he fucking bad for feeling relieve to have her for himself again?
Someone recognizes him and wants a word with Jimmy King so she nods at him to go as he spends some time talking to some nobody he really does not want to talk to. Time in which he does not want to leave her at that bar alone, although his eyes are always moving back to her to make sure she is all right.
And he has not left her alone at that bar for five whole minutes when there is some asshole flirting with her at the bar. Her Matheson mockery in her eyes scream not interested but apparently the asshole did not get that memo.
Charlie is minding her own business and enjoying her drink when some guy steps next to her and is interrupting personal space and her drink.
'So, you like Vegas, sweetheart?' Blonde shoulder guy tries.
She subtlety snorts into her whiskey. 'I like my drink. Alone.' Her voice is firm as her lips are around the glass.
The guy is about to open his mouth for another line when all of a sudden she hears heavy boots behind her.
Blonde shoulder guy puts a couple of feet between him and her the moment he looks from Charlie to the man behind her.
'Sorry Jimmy..' Blonde shoulder guy says with a timid look in his eyes, masked by a too nonchalant smile.
Bass just locks his jaws and forces a fast grin at him. Blonde shoulder guy only notices the steel in his eyes.
Charlie looks from Monroe to the other guy who is already half way across the tent on his fleeing as fast as he can.. Getting away from her and Monroe in under five seconds. She smirk and snorts softly in her glass as Monroe sits down next to her.
Bass watches her and hell, she is adorable.
'Sure, take a seat.' She says firmly, not looking at him.
Bass huffs something as a real grin shines through that huff for so much of her being her right now. He sits down next to her as he adjusts his black leather jacket as he makes himself comfortable and asks for a drink.
A drink in his hand Bass looks at her and then looks straight ahead again. He lets the sip of whiskey burn in the back of his throat.
'I'm sorry if I interfered with any plans you had with that guy..' his voice is smooth rolling of his lips as Charlie feels a hint of his voice vibrating inside her chest.
'Yeah, like I have time to get laid.' Charlie says with an almost frustrated undertone.
She looks straight ahead and then looks at him, one eyebrow raised in that gorgeous face of hers. He had expected deathly banter. A glare. But this. Not this. Bass almost chokes in his fucking whiskey.
There.
Right fucking there is the moment he sees her in a complete different light. And she is not just Miles' niece anymore. She already wasn't anymore in those stolen minutes alone with himself and her on his mind. But Hell. He feels her stir somewhere she shouldn't and his mind is being attacked with images of hips and smooth golden naked tanned skin under his damn hands. This is new, this brand new image of her, the newest of a lot of fucking potential and possibilities.
She locks eyes with him as he does the same.
Charlie has to tell herself to stay right where she is as her tongue moves over her bottom lip as Monroe is drinking her in like they are drinking their whiskey.
After a small fight that had started in the back of the tent, Bass had nodded with a subtle nod towards the exit of the tent. She had not asked questions but had followed him outside. That is what he fucking liked about her. Stubborn as hell but when things were about to go to hell, she always understood.
They walk through New Vegas. Bass moves his hand in the pocket of his jacket. When there are a couple of assholes shouting something in her way he steps closer without even thinking, throwing them a death glare from hell. She lets him.
They do not talk. He just feels her walking next to him.
It is in the way her leather jacket brushes his. It is the way she moves closer to him when he is not sure she is even noticing it herself. It is in the way they walk through this city together, this city that has so much history for the both of them. It is in the way she once came here to kill him and she is not anymore.
It are all those fucking things that makes him unable to not notice her.
Charlie feels him walk next to her and she lets her thoughts roam over the road they had taken, all the way over here. It is in the way he sees her when he looks at her. It is in the way she is finding out she can fight with him just as she does with Miles. It is in the way he knows he can be an asshole, but also so much more.
It is in the way her body responds to him, aching for strong capable hands and him in a way that only recently crashed through her mind. It is in the way he has been drinking her in, at that bar, like the glass of whiskey in his hands.
They both let it flow between them, both feeling it, both feeling the danger and the enticement in it.
'You know, I was wrong about you.' Her voice does not betray everything that lies deeper in her.
'I's that so huh?' Bass swallows, as he looks at her. There is a serious strength in her eyes.
'You were right...' her voice has a low timbre in it that drives him insane in needing and wanting her fast. His heart aching for the words she is giving him. 'I do not know you, not everything...'
Bass hears the sounds of Vegas around him, but she is all there is in revealing this part of her heart to him. And he sees her, all those images of her, Philly, that pool, Potssboro, Willoughby, on the road. They all follow the other and stop at her and her face right here with him.
They keep on walking but he looks at her, so damn close to his arm and shoulder. Close enough to touch. And he feels a fast, almost shy grin break loose around his mouth.
Charlie feels her heart stammer inside her chest as she looks up at Monroe and there is a small smile playing around her mouth. She feels his hand brush hers for one second. And it wakes up everything she tries not to let walk with them here.
She looks at him as they have reached familiar territory, the north west side of Vegas. His side. They both know. And with one nod of his head, a nod she follows without even knowing why, he guides her into the shadows of the line of trees before them.
Bass feels his old life tug at him as she is so damn close. And he remembers where they came from, but he also knows where they are now. He remembers everything she did for him and mostly he sees her again, moving that gun of hers into Duncan's face. He grins at the memory, he feels something ache inside his pants, aching against the fabric. And she can throw something in his face or ask why he is grinning he guides her with his thighs against her legs towards a tree. Her against it, him in front of her.
His hand in her hair, his mouth on hers. He hears the most adorable and yet insanely hot sound coming from her mouth the moment he connects her damn lips against his. He does not let go of her. If she will kill him for this, he will make sure he has enjoyed very damn second of this.
She kisses him, or he kisses her or she lets him. Charlie does not know, but something inside of her tells her that thinking should not be her priority. She already knows. She wants to try this kiss.
So she lets Monroe kiss her, she lets him hold her, hands roaming yet moving slowly but with aim over her side and thighs and belly and ass and now on her back and one against the bark of the tree next to her eyes.
When he pulls back, without moving his body so his thighs are still connected to her legs and he still covers her with his body they look at each other.
He is still tasting her and damn, god, does she feel good where he has her. Bass slightly unsure what she is going to do, Charlie feeling the same. But she is not moving. Neither is he.
Charlie watches the trailers in the back. She knows it is there, close. His trailer. That spot near his trailer where she had waited for him in the dark. The trailer where she had met miserable lost almost not recognisable Monroe. There were everything had been so much different. Where she was different. Where he was different. He was right, and it was time she told him. She does not know him. He is so much more. She digs her fingers deeper into his shoulder, through his leather jacket, grabbing him to steady herself.
She needs his mouth and hands and a man seeing her and giving her things she did not have for so long. But some other needs starts to shine through. Need for something he could give her. She feels her body tensing up. Then she feels his finger trailing her jaw. She follows his fingers, as those fingers are tilting her head so he can see him. And she knows, it is on his mind too.
She moves her fingers towards his leather jacket, moving the fabric between her fingers, her fingers grabbing on to the jacket, to him. The effect she has on him makes her gasp and open her mouth slightly and see him.
She sees him. And sees Vegas, the city behind them, there at the edge of the shadows of the trees and the tree he is holding her against.
Here they are in New Vegas. Where so much had started so long ago. Where he had been such a mess. Where she had come, hardened and filled with hate, everything she did not wanted to be. New Vegas. Where everything is starting again.
But then, with one kiss, with one demanding conquering kiss with his mouth over hers, he tells her everything is different. He tells her he is here. He is pressing her against that tree. He is warmth with his tall body shielding her from everything out there. And with that one hungry kiss and his eyes locking with hers, it is Bass that tells her they are not what they were back there. And she realizes ,with a first and then another thrust of him deeper inside of her, that is right where she wants to be, with him, here, with Bass, where everything starts again or things just flow into new territory, here in New Vegas .
Author's Note, Thank you so much for reading. With Duncan and Connor having a drink, there was space to explore another route of possibilities here. And here we are, that final prompt ( 292, Like I have time to get laid) written. I started with a piece that was a dedication to two brothers and I wanted to conclude this adventure with this piece around Charlie and Bass. I loved this adventure of many prompts so very much and I wanted to thank each and every one of you, and the Armada, for you reading these pieces and your support. Please know how very much it means so much to me you are all there. With Love and gratitude, Love