A/N: Why is paragraphing such a headache?

"Bring her to me. I'm going to shoot the bitch!"

Jason momentarily froze, his hold tightening around Charlie as his heart skipped a beat. He'd been raised a soldier, trained to follow his father's every command, but this was one order that he simply could not comply to. He had to think and act fast.

"Lieutenant!" Neville snapped.

"I don't think I can do that, Sir," he heard himself say. Where on earth had that come from?

Neville's face was a mask of disbelief. His son had never disobeyed him. "What?"

"What I meant was, we need to look at the bigger picture," Jason explained.

"Bring her here. Now!"

Jason straightened, looking his father dead in the eyes. "I cannot do that, Sir. You're letting your emotions override common sense."

Neville's eyes bulged out of their sockets. "What?"

"Think about it. How can she be useful to us? She can be a hostage."

Neville rolled his eyes and shook Danny, who he held in a vice grip. "We already have one."

"Yes, but Miles has no connection with him, no relationship. He's his uncle but he doesn't really know him, and vice versa. He has a relationship with her, though. I've seen with my own eyes how she's gotten under his skin, how she's changed him. She came for her brother but Miles will come for her." He heard Charlie's gasp, felt her burning gaze on his face when she looked up at him but he didn't dare look down. He already knew what he would see in her big, blue eyes: hurt and betrayal. Just thinking about it cut him to the quick, he didn't need the image haunting him later on.

He saw that his words had struck a chord in his father, his eyes now speculative as he looked at Charlie.

"If nothing else, we should take her to General Monroe and let him decide the next course of action," he continued, driving his point home. "You can always kill her then."

Charlie stiffened in his arms, her struggling coming to an abrupt stop. Any feelings she might still have had for him were probably dead now, he thought. It hurt but he would accept it. At least she was alive and, contrary to what he'd just said to his father, he intended to do his very best to keep her that way.

It took him another minute but, satisfied with his reasoning, Neville eventually nodded. "Fine. We'll do it your way." He flashed a brief smile. "It seems I've trained you well. You're not gunning for my job, are you?"

Jason forced a smile. "No, Sir. I wouldn't dream of it."

Listening to them, Jason was sure that neither Charlie nor Danny would ever suspect that they weren't just Captain and Lieutenant but also father and son. Sadly, this exchange wasn't much different from the ones they had in the privacy of their own home. It wasn't that his father didn't love him. He knew that he did, deep down at least. The problem was that somewhere along the way, while fighting for their survival, he'd forgotten what it meant to be a father. It wasn't just about making sure that they stayed good with Monroe or that he followed in his father's footsteps by becoming indispensible to the militia, though those were his father's priorities now, priorities that his father had also chosen for him. Perhaps if he'd been a baby at the time of the blackout, the change in their relationship would have been easier to accept for he wouldn't have known better. But he'd been old enough that he remembered what life had been like back then, how close they'd been, how loving and affectionate his father had been. He didn't deny that his father had had to toughen up to take care of them in the years following the blackout, he just wished that some semblance of the gentle man he'd once been had survived. This man, his Captain, was practically a stranger to him. Hell, he even referred to him as Captain Neville in his thoughts. As far as he was concerned, his father might as well have been dead.

"Let's get these two locked up," Neville was saying. "Miles is still out there somewhere, possibly still on the train. I…"

Suddenly, a loud blast shook the carriage, knocking them to the ground. Jason tucked Charlie beneath him, shielding her from the shards of glass and splintered wood that rained down upon them.

When all was quiet once again, the train still chugging along, he stood, helping Charlie gain her feet as his eyes anxiously surveyed her, looking for any sign of injury.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, not wanting his father – who was also on his feet, dragging a dazed Danny up – to hear.

Charlie nodded, looking down at herself to make sure that she didn't have any injuries that she wasn't aware of.

The rear door burst open and an officer came in. "Sir," he greeted, saluting first Jason, then his father who he continued to make his report to. "Miles Matheson detonated that bomb. It seems that it was on board and he" – his eyes shifted to Charlie – "and the young lady here came to retrieve it. He attempted to throw it away from the train but it exploded above the rear carriage. We lost it."

"And Matheson?" Neville prodded.

"He got away, but not unscathed. We shot him, Captain. I can't say how seriously as the force of the bullet seemed to propel him over the side and he rolled down the hill. We did injure him, though, that much is certain."

Neville nodded. "Thank you. You're dismissed."

The officer saluted again, then disappeared back whence he came.

Jason had heard Charlie's shocked gasp when the officer announced that Miles had been shot. He chanced a glance at her but couldn't see her face as her head was tilted downwards. She was sagging in his arms, leaning heavily against his chest. He could only imagine how horrible she must be feeling, how worried she must be on top of that. Regardless of his issues with Miles, he did not want Charlie to have to suffer another death in the family. For that reason and that reason only, he hoped that Miles pulled through.

"Let's get these two to lock-up," Neville ordered.

Jason followed his father through a series of carriages, gently half-carrying Charlie along since she still seemed too stunned to walk on her own. She was no longer resisting his hold in any event. He would almost prefer she did. He'd rather she be kicking and screaming than sad and broken.

When they got to the holding area, which was essentially just another carriage with supplies and such, Neville carelessly dropped Danny in a corner, shackling his wrists and ankles before exiting the room.

Jason took the cuffs that the officer in charge of overseeing their "guests" held out to him but hesitated, his gaze now glued to Charlie's face, concern for her reflected in their brown depths.

"Charlie…"

"Don't," she whispered. Her eyes blazed blue fire when she looked up at him. "Don't talk to me, don't even look at me. From now on, I don't know you. Is that clear?"

He'd been right about the hurt and betrayal. He could see them clearly swimming in the watery blue of her eyes. But there was anger as well and it was that that she used to speak to him. She may have been upset over Miles' uncertain fate but she was still pissed enough not to completely crumble beneath the weight of it. He couldn't help admiring her resilience.

"Do you want me to search the prisoner before you tie her up, Lieutenant?" the officer offered. "Can't be too careful, you know."

A hint of colour stole into Jason's cheeks. There was no female officer on board to do the job but he'd be damned if he let anyone else touch Charlie.

"No, I've got it," he replied.

"Yes, Sir."

Jason waited until the officer moved away before turning back to Charlie. The anger in her eyes seemed to have multiplied a thousand fold. There was nothing he could do, though. For her own protection, he had to search her. If she did indeed have something hidden and managed to free herself and attempt an escape, she would be shot on sight. He might have talked his father into agreeing with his plan and the officer overseeing her, Danny and the two other prisoners in the room seemed…well, nice, but he knew Neville well enough to know that, should she give him a reason, he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Monroe wasn't expecting her so there would be no major fallout over his actions.

She stood stiffly as he knelt in front of her. He briskly searched around her ankles, lifting the hem of her jeans and poking a finger inside her shoes to make sure nothing was hidden. His hands skimmed up her calves to her knees and thighs. He tried to keep his touch as light as possible knowing that the higher he went, the more intimate it would become. He slid his hands along her inner thighs, doing his best not to get too close to the apex, then he made quick work of searching her front and back pockets, cupping the curve of her butt to make sure that nothing was hidden there either. She held her arms to the side while he searched the pockets of her jacket and the waist of her jeans. He had avoided her gaze thus far but when he straightened in front of her, his hands skimming up the bare skin of her back to her bra, he made the mistake of looking into her eyes.

If he'd thought hurt and betrayal were bad, utter hatred should have killed him on the spot. Tears shone in her eyes but she bit down on her lower lip, as if refusing to let them fall free. She took a ragged breath when his hands slid to the front, his fingers gently skimming along the band of her bra and down the cleft between her breasts. As soon as he was done, he dropped his hands and stepped back.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. His remorse was genuine but he could tell from the look in her eyes that forgiveness would never come.

He quickly cuffed her wrists, then repeated the process on her ankles. He lowered her down beside Danny and as soon as her butt hit the floor, she pulled away from him.

"I'll check back later," he promised, speaking for her ears only though she refused to meet his eyes. "Charlie… Please don't try anything," he pleaded.

He stood there looking down at her for another minute, mentally willing her to look at him, even if only with anger and hatred, but she gave him nothing.

Sighing, he turned to the officer. "See that they're comfortable. Give them water or something to eat if they ask for it. It's going to be a long journey."

The officer nodded. "Yes, Sir."

Casting one last glance in Charlie's direction, Jason walked out and closed the door soundly behind him.

Charlie awoke with a start, her eyes flying open when she felt a cold sensation on her lips.

"Sorry," a voice apologized shyly.

She was surprised to find herself looking up into the blushing face of the officer on guard duty.

"You looked thirsty," he explained, gesturing to the cup in his hand. "I should probably have waited until you'd woken up, sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

She was surprised to realize that she had fallen asleep – how was that even possible given the rage boiling in her veins up to her last conscious moment? – but more so to find that she could actually smile at this man…boy…man…whatever. He looked about her age yet he had a youthful air about him, an innocence. He reminded her of Danny, who she now noticed was slumped against her shoulder sound asleep.

Trust no one, Maggie had said. No matter how jaded the world became or how many horrible experiences she endured, there would always be that part of her that saw the good in people first.

"No, it's okay," she said huskily. She cleared her throat before continuing. "I'm parched, actually."

He handed her the cup and she gratefully accepted it, downing its entire contents.

He smiled and eagerly refilled the cup.

"What are you doing here?" she asked suddenly.

He looked surprised at her question. "What do you mean?"

"You don't look like you belong here. You seem…nice." Then again, she'd thought Nate…no, Jason, was nice and look where it had gotten her. Still, this guy didn't have his arrogant, confident attitude. He just looked like a normal person, like someone who would have lived in her community: kind and harmless. "You're not like…." Nate. "…the others."

He blushed furiously. "Ahh, I get that a lot. I suppose it's true. I'm not really in the militia, not in the traditional sense. I'm not a highly trained soldier. I don't go on missions and so on. I can wield a knife and shoot something that's ten feet in front of me but that's about it." He pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose as if to make his point, smiling sheepishly. "I wasn't blessed with 20/20 vision and that's a bit of a hindrance in this line of work. I've always been too skinny, too blind, too sick, too something."

"So how did you end up here?" Charlie asked, genuinely curious.

"They came to my town and recruited – if you could call it that – all the able-bodied males. When they realized that that didn't exactly apply to me, the suggestion was put forth to put me out of my misery, permanently, but there are many jobs in the militia and General Monroe's residence and they don't all require you to be a pro-shooter. I'm what you call a jack of all trades. Sometimes I work in the laundry unit, other times I work in weapon maintenance, and occasionally I get the chance to come on these low-level missions as back-up. Not the killing kind, of course. More like seeing to the active officer's food or, in this case, watching over the prisoners. It's really low-risk so it's something even someone like me can't screw up." He smiled wryly. "Well, it was supposed to be low-risk. That bomb took us all by surprise, I think."

The mention of the bomb reminded Charlie of Miles and his injury and her sadness returned. He was a strong man and she had no doubt that it would take more than a bullet to kill him but even one little bullet could do a lot of damage. If he was seriously injured, it would take him that much longer to recover which meant that she could be looking at a lengthy stay in Monroe's mansion. Assuming that he didn't kill her to begin with.

Seeing her crestfallen expression, the officer's face turned a deeper shade of red. "I heard that your uncle was injured. I'm sorry."

Charlie smiled. "I don't think you're supposed to be apologizing. You're militia, you're supposed to want Miles dead, or captured. But thank you." She waited a beat. "What's your name?"

"Sam. Samuel Samuelson."

Charlie would have burst out laughing if not for Danny at her side and the two other prisoners across the small cabin sleeping deeply.

"You're kidding right?" she asked, incredulous.

Sam shook his head. "My parents had a sense of humour, I guess. Growing up people used to call me Uncle Sam because I had such an old, mature soul for someone as young as I was. Plus, living in the U.S.-of-A as it were. That phrase is forbidden in the militia, though. We're moving forward, not backward, we're told. The Monroe Republic is the future of the U.S.A."

A shiver travelled down Charlie's spine. God forbid, she thought. If the horrors she had witnessed on behalf of the Monroe Republic were a small taste of what was to come, it made her think that the future wasn't going to be worth living.

"I probably shouldn't have told you that," Sam said to himself, frowning. "I probably shouldn't have told you anything. We're not supposed to interact with prisoners."

Charlie placed a hand on his arm, smiling up at him. "I'm glad you did. I think you're the most decent person I've met in a long time. And don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Nothing you've said will ever be repeated by these lips."

His eyes dropped to her lips when she said the word and his face deepened to an impossibly bright red.

It was rather endearing, she thought, taking a sip of water to hide her smile. She was glad to have met him. Even if she never saw him again, it was nice to be distracted, if only for a little while.

Jason's jaw clenched, a vein throbbing rapidly as he stood at the window to the small room looking in on the scene before him.

He couldn't remember ever seeing Charlie so carefree and smiley, which was ironic considering that she was being held prisoner and the person she was talking to so animatedly was supposed to be guarding her, not chatting with her.

His fingers dug into the metal of the plate he held when he saw Samuels or whatever his name was raise a cup to her lips for her to drink. He was pretty sure they had never met before so how the hell had they gotten so close and…intimate so quickly?

When he'd left her earlier, he'd returned to the cabin that his father had chosen as his personal quarters and sat in on a briefing about one thing or another. He'd been distracted so he hadn't been paying attention but thankfully, no one had called on him so it went unnoticed. Afterwards, he'd gone to his own cabin and tried to rest for a bit after forcing himself to eat but sleep eluded him. It didn't take long to figure out why. Charlie, plain and simple. He wasn't used to being so close yet so far. He'd followed her and her group for weeks, had even been a part of it, albeit as a willing prisoner, for a period of time. The difference was that she had always been right there, within his sight if not his reach. He wasn't Nate anymore, however, or even not-Nate as she'd referred to him. He had officially resumed his role as a Lieutenant in the militia which meant that he had no reason to associate with her personally. She would be handled by Samuels until they got to Philadelphia, upon which General Monroe and whoever he assigned to her would take over.

He glanced down at the plate of food in his hand.

After forcing himself to stay away for almost exactly three hours, he'd gone to the kitchen and, as nonchalantly as he could manage, asked if the officer guarding the prisoners had sent for food. He'd been told no, so he'd fixed a plate himself, with enough food for both siblings. Charlie might still be pissed and therefore not hungry, or starve herself in order to spite him – he honestly wouldn't put it past her – but he would see that she ate, even if he had to force-feed her himself. He was positive that she hadn't eaten in at least eight hours and they still had another twelve or so to go before arriving in Philly. She would need to keep her strength up for whatever lay ahead.

Samuels raised the cup to Charlie's lips again and he couldn't repress the low growl that rumbled in his throat. He was tempted to barge in there and drag the guy up against the wall for a good pounding, which was completely irrational because he actually understood why he was feeding her the water. At some point she had wrapped her arms around Danny so that his head lay on her chest within the circle of her bound wrists, which meant that she couldn't possibly hold the cup herself. Would he prefer that she deprive herself of water rather than have someone else, someone who wasn't him, feed it to her?

Honestly? Yes.

Holding tightly to his self-control, he forced himself to take a step backward, then another and another until he could no longer see into the room through the window.

He would come back later. Samuels was bound to leave at some point.

Charlie stifled a yawn, thinking that another nap was definitely in order.

She glanced over at Danny and smiled when she saw him sleeping deeply once more, his features evened out peacefully. He'd woken long enough to eat something before promptly going back to sleep. He seemed to be really exhausted, which made her wonder when last he'd had a good night's sleep. It wasn't surprising though, she supposed. She didn't think she could have slept a wink if she'd been kidnapped and was surrounded by dangerous, armed men whose intentions towards her were unknown. Much like she was now, ironically, except that she had put herself in this position and knew that, at least until the train arrived in Philadelphia, she was safe.

When the cabin door slid open, she didn't immediately look up, assuming that it was Sam. In the hours since she'd been there, no one had entered after Jason left. Sam had gone out about ten minutes ago to get his dinner, which she was certain he was late for since he'd spent all that time talking to her, so he was the only one she expected to come in.

"Charlie."

A tremor ran down her spine at the sound of that all too familiar voice, an unwelcomed one now given the nature of things between them, and she looked up, her blue eyes instantly becoming defensive when they clashed with his wary brown ones.

"Are you doing okay?" he asked.

She remained silent and continued staring, her eyes shooting daggers at him.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he pressed. "Anything that you need?"

Anything she needed? Was he serious?, she thought angrily. What she needed was to be set free and take her brother back home but that wasn't going to happen, was it? Not unless he'd suddenly grown a conscience and was willing to sacrifice himself for them. So no, there was nothing that she needed that he could do for her.

But..Actually…

She held her wrists out to him. "Can you take these off? Just for a little bit so that my hands can relax in a comfortable position. They fell asleep around Danny earlier and I can't seem to get the pins and needles to stop." When she saw the skepticism in his eyes, she added, "I promise not to try anything…And I need to use the bathroom."

Jason – she would never get used to that name, he would always be Nate to her – pulled her to her feet and unlocked her cuffs. The chain between the shackles around her ankles was long enough that she could walk unhindered so he left them in place.

He held onto her arm as he led her through the train to the small pantry-sized toilet.

"I'm sorry if it's not exactly as clean as you'd like. This is a train full of men so…" He shrugged helplessly.

"That's okay," she said. It really didn't matter what state the bathroom was in. She had to go and now.

As she stepped in and closed the door behind her, she understood the reason for his apology. While she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, the toilet smelled. It made her feel like gagging. There were cleansing cloths, soap and a pitcher of water, though, for which she was grateful.

She held her breath while she took care of business and burst out of the door not a moment too soon, inhaling greedy gulps of oxygen while her starving lungs labored to absorb it.

Jason laid a steadying hand on her arm. "That bad, huh?"

She nodded.

A minute later, she was back on the floor beside her brother, grimacing as she rubbed the life back into her arms. Her wrists hadn't chafed since the cuffs were loose but being unable to move her arms naturally for all those hours had seriously restricted the blood flow. She sighed contentedly when the tingling finally stopped.

"Better?" he asked with a small smile, squatting in front of her.

"Much."

She shrugged out of her jacket and draped it over Danny before turning back to Jason. As she did so, she caught a strange look in his eyes when they flickered downward before returning to her face. Glancing down at herself, she saw that her vest had ridden up her stomach above her navel and she had a fair amount of cleavage showing. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment, which made her angry. It wasn't like he hadn't seen naked women before, she told herself, unlike she who had never even been touched by a man. That was, until today.

As angry as she'd been during his weapon search, how helpless and violated she'd felt, she'd been mortified to realize that she'd also been somewhat turned on. He'd tried his best not to touch her more than necessary, and she grudgingly appreciated that, but it hadn't stopped pleasant sensations from shooting through her body, especially when his hands had touched her bare flesh. She'd never considered herself particularly ticklish but she'd had to do her level best not to shiver as his fingers slid across her body. It also didn't help that she'd seen desire in his eyes, much like she did now. She might be innocent and sexually inexperienced but she wasn't naïve enough not to recognize lust when she saw it, especially when she was feeling it herself. That she was still attracted to him despite everything he'd done was something she had yet to come to grips with. As it was, it irritated her.

With seeming casualness, she tugged the hem of her vest back down to the waistband of her jeans and shook her hair forward to shield her chest before holding her wrists out to him.

It must be the lighting because she could've sworn that she saw his cheeks flush. It wasn't possible that he was blushing from having been caught staring, was it?

He replaced the cuffs on her wrists and stood. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She shook her head, her eyes fixed firmly forward.

He remained silent for a minute, as if searching for something to say. Why didn't he just go?, she wondered. He confused her greatly. He seemed to not want her to hate him but how was that possible when he kept doing things to hurt her and the people she cared about, all in the name of the damn militia?

"Charlie…"

She turned her head to the side, facing away from him, hoping that he'd get the point.

There was another long minute of silence before she heard him walk to the door, slide it open and close it behind him.

She released a breath that she hadn't even been aware she was holding.

Their exchange had lasted all of ten minutes yet she felt like she'd run a marathon. Turbulent emotions were incredibly exhausting, it seemed. Another nap was definitely in order.

Her mind didn't seem to want to comply, racing a mile a minute as it analyzed every moment she and Na…Jason had spent together, every look, everything he'd said He'd lied so much, was very good at it, but she didn't think it had all been fake. What happened between them just now certainly wasn't.

She didn't want to think about that, though. She didn't want to think at all.

Shifting position, she leaned against Danny's hip as he lay curled up on the ground and forced her mind to shut down.

A/N: I need some advice about something. If you like this and want me to continue it then you really need to provide some input.

I haven't posted anything here in forever and FFN no longer has MA ratings, however, what I've conceived thus far is pretty sexually explicit and exceeds an M rating so I don't know what to do about that. I could whittle down the content, I suppose, and make it less detailed but I kinda like it the way it is (I guess that makes me a pervert? lol) so I'm wondering what options I have. There are a lot of sexually explicit stories here, older ones especially, but I don't want to run the risk of having the story reported or anything like that. Any suggestions? The only alternative I can think of is posting the sex-light version here and the full, detailed version elsewhere with a link to it.

EDIT: I decided to go with my original concept and hope for the best. So...lots of smuttiness up ahead. Brace yourselves!