And memories weigh more than stone
A Revolution fic (Blackout AU): Sebastian (Bass) Monroe/Charlotte (Charlie) Matheson with mention of regular characters from the show including Miles Matheson, Rachael Matheson, Aaron Pittman, the Nano and the Patriots… This is a follow on from my earlier story 'A holiday in New Xanadu'. Charloe.
Rating M…
Summary: It is several days after Bass and Charlie became lovers in a hidden place called New Xanadu. They are once again on the road to Willoughby and are travelling as fast as they can, conscious of time and the constant dangers of the road. Exhaustion is taking its toll and memories of the past are playing on Bass' mind, bringing nightmares – Charlie is determined to turn his bad dreams to good ones. They are also aware of being followed by the Nanotech – and don't know what it will do next...
Authors note: Thanks so much for having a look at this… I don't own any part of Revolution unfortunately – I continue to love it though and I find these two characters especially fascinating… and the Nano – I wanted to see what would happen if things started off a bit differently with them… This is a one shot, although I think there will be other related stories… There is an M bit somewhere in the middle – in italics... You'll know when it starts and you can jump over it if you like… A comment or Review would be wonderful if you have a minute to leave one… Cheers, Magpie
…..
…but in sadness like mine,
nothing stirs - new buildings, old
neighborhoods turn to allegory,
and memories weigh more than stone (From 'The Swan' by C Beaudelaire, trans: R. Howard )
Now…
Bass and Charlie had been back on the road now for a few days and had been avoiding known settlements as much as possible – living on what they could find as well as the remainder of the supplies provided by the previous owners of the wagon and the generous provisions Petra had given them in New Xanadu – being very careful to avoid the packages marked in code for Rachael's attention that contained samples of Petra's medicinal preparations and her letter asking for Rachael's help…
Very aware of the ever present threat of Patriot patrols, Bounty Hunters and the other assorted dangers – human or otherwise of the road, they travelled for as long and as fast as they could by day along back roads, following rivers and streams when possible, one of them driving, the other on shotgun (or crossbow…). They stopped during the day only to rest the horses, eat a quick midday meal and take care of the necessities - and they divided the nights into two watches – 4-5 hours each to allow each other as much uninterrupted sleep as possible… but they were both becoming increasingly tired and stressed from the ongoing lack of real sleep, the constant need to be alert and were desperately missing the closeness they had enjoyed in the hidden world of Xanadu…
...
It was Charlie's watch and she sat, cross-legged on her rolled out blankets, leaning back against the saddle and cushions that were her pillow, crossbow over her knees, knife at her hip. She gazed out into the dark woods around their camp, a half moon high in the sky, its light obscuring nearby stars… A convoy of feathery clouds floated overhead, edged with mercury silver that slowly moved and faded as each moved past the moon. The campfire was covered with a pot of porridge slowly cooking in the coals for the morning and an occasional bird (Whippoorwill? Screech Owl…?) called out in the distance… One of the horses whickered softly, and something small rustled in the undergrowth nearby… but nothing else disturbed the night as the world turned towards dawn. Charlie took a deep breath, gathering in the mixed scents of grass and trees and wild things – as well as the familiar aromas of the horses, the wagon – and themselves… she blew the breath out through her nose… everything – and everyone - in the camp was smelling just a little ripe, even after their swim and wash in the river that afternoon but they hadn't dared allow themselves much time for the niceties…
She gazed down at Bass; he'd been sleeping next to her for a couple of hours… He actually did fall asleep now – and she loved that he knew she would keep watch over him… Before Xanadu she didn't think he had relaxed enough to sleep properly – or at all – since they left New Vegas… There had been the pool – he'd been tied standing up – hard to sleep like that… then following her to Pottsboro – and after that, once she was mostly over the drugs the creeps had given her in the bar, she knew he'd stayed awake pretty well all the time - half expecting her to stick a knife in him at any chance she got… So for more than a week she figured he'd had little or no sleep…and even for someone like Sebastian Monroe – one of the most resilient men she had ever met - that was a hard call… The trouble was, now that he did sleep, except for the one night they spent in a bed in Xanadu (where to be truthful they'd only slept part of the time…), he dreamed…and they were bad dreams – very bad dreams…
Before now…
The first night after their hurried exit from Xanadu, she hadn't known what to do… it had started when she was halfway through her watch, like tonight, … an arm flung out, a sharp breath, then it was as though he went somewhere terrible, his eyes opened, staring, his arms tensed into his chest, hands contorted into tight fists… and then he sobbed as though his heart was breaking… She had tried to wake him but it was like he couldn't see or feel her… then one of his hands had found the strip of belly skin between her tank top and jeans and he had suddenly relaxed, his hand sliding up her side and back under the tank… and he had gone back to sleep… The next morning she had asked him what had happened and he didn't remember dreaming at all…
The second night had been much worse – things had begun the same way but then he had started flailing about, his fists hitting out at something – or someone… then he had yelled out and gone rigid… He had been so still she thought he had stopped breathing… and then it started again… He was shouting something – words she couldn't quite make out but he was so loud that she expected Patriots or wolves or something to come running out of the woods… That night she had taken her shirt off so he could touch her arm and take her hand – that quietened him enough so that he went back to sleep – although he wouldn't let her hand go…so she sat next to him, other hand on her crossbow, tears running down her face, unnoticed... The next morning he said he could remember that he had had a bad dream and that it had stopped when he felt her there but he still couldn't (or wouldn't?) remember or talk about the dreams… She thought she could take a good guess at some of them though - most people living in this blacked out world had enough bad memories to fill their sleep with nightmares night after night – but he had a lot more than most…
The third night she waited for it to start and decided that it was safe enough for them for her to take a chance - in fact it was a lot safer for them she thought dryly, if he wasn't shouting… so when she saw his arm start to move she laid her crossbow down – nearby and loaded though - quickly took off her shirt, tank and bra, and sat close to him where she knew his hand would find her… She didn't want to fully wake him - they both needed as much sleep as they could get for the road as well as whatever could be around the next corner… She just wanted to try to divert the dream to something better…to warmth and life… to her… And it had worked to some degree, his fingers had found the warm smooth flesh at her waist, stroked up and around her breast, lingering gently there for a long moment – his palm and fine strong fingers rough on her skin from the long years of handling a sword as well as fighting... then he had sighed heavily, his hand had dropped, searching for and finding hers and he was quiet again…she cried for him that night too…
The night after that she had done the same thing… and again having her there in touching distance seemed to help him sleep, but this time she didn't cry… instead she became determined to find a way to help him work through his nightmares – and by the morning after breakfast – while they were sharing some of the excellent coffee given to them for the road by William and Petra in Xanadu, she had decided what she needed to do…
...
They were each sitting on one of their low improvised chairs (box, bedroll, cushions – set against the side of the wagon) getting ready to head off for the day and finishing the last of the coffee in the pot… Bass was looking off into the distance over the rim of the pre-blackout steel mug – his mind still wandering through the remnants of dreams… The coffee was steaming and hot – there was no sugar so it was a little bitter for his taste – but it was very, very good, and he was grateful to have it at all, especially with the addition of a little of their dwindling supplies of whiskey… The previous owners of the wagon had obviously considered good whiskey a basic food group and had taken their daily intake very seriously – supplies had lasted quite a while… Bass was very aware that part of his problem with nightmares (although they had been with him a long time…) might have something to do with his use - and abuse - of alcohol… he'd been hitting the bottle hard over the months since the tower, hell, since the blackout, most people had… but the soldier in him - as well as his vanity if he was truthful – much preferred to be in shape, so he was actively cutting back… Especially now that he wasn't fighting in Gould's tent every day to work it off... and even more especially now that he had Charlie with him… She was his priority now and he would make sure she got to Miles – and her mother - in one piece if it was the last thing he ever did… He still drank a little every day, but in his defence, Charlie did too – and it did help to make the long stretches of road go by a little faster for both of them…
They'd had little time to spend on each other in the last few days – even though they had been with each other almost the whole time. There had been a renewed sense of urgency to get to Willoughby; to Miles and the others… and they had both felt too exposed in the open, too cautious of the outside and the possibility of threat… too tense, too tired... He hadn't wanted Charlie to go hunting alone (and she had agreed surprisingly) so they relied on what they could catch close to wherever they camped – because even though Xanadu had ended up being a (very) good thing, it had alerted them to the possibility that there could be other hidden places that might not be so good – as well as the dangers they already knew about… There was also the unnerving knowledge that they were apparently being followed by some sort of mutated manifestation of Rachael and Ben's technology – the same technology that had ended the world as they knew it… There had been no sign as yet of the strange green lights - and the vegetation around them appeared to be behaving perfectly normally – much to his relief - but it was disturbing all the same…
The exhilaration of being with each other in Xanadu, of being somewhere hidden away from all the death and care of the world outside was fading… and he suddenly desperately wanted to be back there with Charlotte beside him… where she had shown him that she trusted him… and where he could watch her laugh in a world when every moment wasn't spent fighting or planning to fight - or hurting, where not everything was about just surviving… He remembered walking with her beside him, seeing her face light up at things created simply to bring people joy, then laughing in his arms – and dancing in that blue skirt… He wanted to be able to give her beautiful things…he wanted her to be safe, to be able to laugh… He sighed heavily and took another mouthful of coffee… The memories of their day and a bit in New Xanadu – especially when she had first come to him in the shower in their room, unexpected and unhoped for (but so very, very welcome), naked and beautiful as the sunrise - provided inspiration for almost every one of his good dreams… but also made the real world seem even darker and more harsh…
His nightmares had returned with a vengeance …the day he found out that his whole family were dead - killed by a drunk driver, or the night of the blackout, when planes fell from the sky and burned like giant torches around them, setting the city on fire…or the day in the survivors camp when his then love Shelley and their newborn baby girl had died together while he stood there, helpless. Then there was the morning he woke up to find the man who was his brother in everything but blood aiming a gun at him… and Emma, dying in his arms – shot by one of Miles' men – after Bass in a white hot rage almost burned his whole town – including her - alive… then finding out from her in her dying breath that he had a son…somewhere… and Jeremy – a friend from the earliest beginnings of the Republic – shot on his order, because in his paranoia he saw conspiracy everywhere… So much killing and fighting, so much death and pain and guilt… and then… there was the tower… and his imagined (but oh so real) visions of Philadelphia, his city, burning in a pillar of fire like the finger of God…
His nightmare angel was spoiled for choice… And now there were new ones waiting in the queue… just as bad as the others if not worse – the ones where he lost Charlotte…and there were so very many ways that he could lose her…
Sometimes he thought that his memories would get so heavy he'd sink under the weight of them… He had tried to drown them out with alcohol and paranoia as General Monroe after Miles had left him alone… and then, in the months after the Tower, drinking, fighting and fucking had become his mantra (with New Vegas his temple…) and it had worked for a while. He had been able to sleep without dreaming if he fought and drank and fucked enough… He knew though, that his nightmares would be back… and that this time they might drive him right over the edge… and some dark, empty part of him might even welcome it… Then Charlie had turned up out of nowhere - and saved him from himself - ironically by trying to kill him and ending up tied to the wall next to him in that empty pool… And her being there meant that there was a way to find Miles… and so he had a mission again, a mission that gave him purpose and a reason to live (until Charlie gave him another – even more compelling) and this time they all had a common enemy, the Patriots… The traitors who ordered Randall Flynn to drop ICBM's on the same country that they asked God to bless in every speech they made…and who had put a bounty not only on him, but also on Rachael and by implication Charlie, and that he couldn't let stand…
Because, by some miracle, when he'd given up believing in those, Charlie had come to feel something for him other than hate, something that had started before they stumbled onto Xanadu and it's sleeping garden but that had flowered there… He didn't quite dare (yet?) to believe that what she felt for him was love…but there was something… and over the last few nights, he had found a little hope… Because when he felt her warm skin on the first night after Xanadu, and he knew she was there with him, the nightmares scattered and fled… and then she had come back on the second night, and the third… and the one after that… She had come back…
But what if Charlie couldn't cope with the dark weight on his soul? What if it was too much…and she left? People he loved had always left him… his family, Shelley, and Miles… Charlotte had so quickly become a part of him, as necessary as breathing… and if she left… He knew that part of him would keep on fighting as long as his body could stand up – that was how he was made… but he'd be fighting without a heart or a soul and that was perhaps the most frightening thing of all… he took another long swig of coffee, the whiskey in it biting at the lump in his throat…
'Bass…?' she glanced at him over her own mug… She was looking a little tired he thought to himself – and worried? Hair a little stringy and less than its usual golden brown glossiness – a side trip to the river would be good – he could help her wash it… 'Bass...!' He blinked… damn, he was tired – spacing out…he yawned and stretched ...then smiled apologetically across at her… 'Sorry Charlie…' he shrugged, 'thinking too much…' she stood up, drained her mug, rinsing it out and putting it to drain near their utensils box…then covered the ground between them in a couple of strides, her belt jangling… it had started to get warm and she was just wearing her tank top and jeans… She stood in front of him, her body like a candle between his thighs… skin smooth and gleaming in the early morning sunlight…eyes a shadowy blue… She smiled down at him 'Hey… you got room for one more down there…?' he looked up at her, squinting a little against the light… 'I'll always have room for you Charlotte…' She tipped her head, smile suddenly full of mischief, her dimple flashing 'I'm going to hold you to that one, Bass Monroe…', she placed her hands on his shoulders and swung her legs to straddle him, wriggling forward until she was snug against him…and suddenly the morning was looking a whole lot better…
He finished his coffee in a quick swallow and set the mug down…out of long habit scanning the area for sounds, smells, sights that didn't belong…but finding nothing, wrapped both arms around her in a hug that felt so right and good that his heart seemed to leap into his throat… He sucked in then let out a deep breath and felt some of his tension and tiredness and dark thoughts drift away... She bent down to meet his waiting lips in a kiss that became a long, dizzying promise and an affirmation…
Charlie eventually broke away with a slow sigh and her eyes danced down at him… her hands roaming over the broad shoulders and flat planes and ripples of his chest and abs…'I wish we were somewhere we could do this properly…' she breathed, and he chuckled, the vibration of it rippling against her body… his growing hardness against her making her squirm 'So do I, but I'm not complaining Charlie…' His fingers roved over her firm denim clad ass cheeks, thumbs finding and stroking that little bare strip of skin between jeans and top…she grinned down and circled her hips over him, making them both take a breath…
'In the meantime though…' and sliding back a little along his thighs, she reached down with a slim hand to undo the buttons of his jeans… His eyes followed her tanned fingers as they worked quickly at freeing him, hard now and achingly ready, from his denim prison… She pushed the fly of his jeans apart, hooking the loose elastic of his underpants under his balls, pushing them proudly up…. He took a sharp breath in and she smiled in satisfaction as she watched his face – his blue eyes glazed, intent on what she was doing…'You look amazing Bass…' she said, her mouth suddenly dry…'I love how you look all the time but…you look so…damn amazing' her thumb and fingers circled his cock, sliding up and down over the velvety hardness with firm strokes, her other hand snaking down and under to gently play with his balls… He took a deep jagged breath in… '…Oh my…Charlie…' She let go of him… her fingers gently slipping over the head of his cock as they went making him jump, thighs tensing under and he gasped again and raised his eyes to hers – intense blues dancing around pupils pinned small in the morning light…
She held his gaze as she leaned back a little, running her hands up over the outside of her tank top one at a time to her shoulders, pushing the straps down so that her breasts spilled over the top of her bra, the nipples rosy… her shoulders framed and caught by the straps… He smiled happily and licked his lips… 'A sweet hello again to two of my favourite things…' she leaned forward so he could reach better and he caught a nipple between his lips and teeth, licking and biting gently…his hands running hard up from her hips, up her sides, one tightening the straps around her shoulders from the back pushing her breasts out of the cups of her bra just a little more, the other hand playing with the yet un-kissed nipple before sliding down to the vee of her crotch, twisting around, his fingers cupping and stroking her through her jeans… He undid the buttons and worked his hand inside, finding her shamelessly wet curls and folds with his fingers, sliding his middle finger up inside; his thumb finding her clitoris, pressing and circling… Charlie's back arched and she took a sharp breath…
He brought his other hand down to her ass, pulling her a little further towards him, licking and nibbling over her other nipple before pulling his head back so he could look down to where his hand was playing with her… A light scattering of curls a little darker than her hair framed his fingers; little strands clinging and dancing as his finger moved through her folds… He pulled out of her then pushed back in… pumping gently… as his thumb continued its circling assault…'Bass…' she gasped, her thighs and butt tensing… he pulled fingers and hand away, leaving her rigid and panting with need… her hands fell to his shoulders, hanging on for support… breath coming harder… 'Stand up Charlotte…' he said, voice low and rasping…
She stood, legs tense and shaking, hands still on his shoulders… Bass leaned forward to work her tight jeans down over her ass and hips, down and over her knees to her ankles… her feet ending up trapped together by the folds of material. He stepped his booted feet over her bunched up jeans and ran his hands back up her legs, pulling her knees towards him so she sat back with a thump onto the saddle of his thighs, her legs spreading out until he could see her folds, swelling proudly between his thighs and their own frame of curls… a glistening treasure…
She took a sharp breath in… 'Bass…' he looked back up to where her nipples and breasts jutted out over her bra and the tank, then up further to her gorgeous face, tense with anticipation and lust… He chuckled and said 'I love looking at you too Charlie…' her fingers tightened harder on the taut muscles of his shoulders, nails digging into the skin …'I'm really, really glad about that Bass… but I so need you to fuck me now…' he grinned… 'How much Charlie…?' He slid his hands up and around the cheeks of her ass, his forearms framing her hips with hard strength… She could feel the muscles in his arms flexing as he pulled her towards him over his denim covered thighs, the material rough, catching against her skin…and when she looked down she could see herself, her legs spread wide, her folds open over his thighs – his cock, hard and ready, framed in the soft blue of his jeans, waiting for her…
She licked her lips… and he lifted his eyes, blazing blue, to meet hers…'how much do you want me to fuck you Charlotte?' he asked her again in a rough whisper... She swallowed 'More than anything, Bass…I want you to fuck me a whole lot…' his eyes promised just that '… just what I had in mind Charlotte…' he used one of his booted feet to pull her denim wrapped ankles towards him, lifting her ass at the same time…positioning her over the head of his cock and gently lowering her down over his length, spreading her out around him until she was so full… She almost came apart at that…her knees giving way… But then he showed her just how strong he was – lifting and moving her up and down over him at a pace that had them both gasping … he licked and sucked on her breasts and she ran her fingers through his hair and down over his shoulders and arms…and he moved her onto him over and over until he felt her ripple around him and fall, panting, her head dropping to his shoulder, then he sent a final thrust deep into the tight, slippery warmth of her and felt himself go too…
After a little while, Bass took a deep breath and grinned… feeling better than he had in days… He gently nudged Charlie, who was draped over him, limp and boneless, and she reluctantly slid back over his knees and stood up…carefully, her feet were all caught up…and he had to untangle his too… He reached up to pull her back down for a kiss…and her hands quickly dropped to his thighs to stop her falling back onto him (although she was tempted…) 'Charlotte…' he gave her the smile she loved…'you are wonderful and beautiful and you have made my day…' she chuckled, her dimple flashing… 'I think we need to do that more often Bass… I've missed you…' she kissed him again and he caught her hips to steady her just before she toppled over sideways… 'Oops…' they laughed together and she took his hands for support to stand up again between his thighs…'Bass, I know we have to be careful, and I want to get to Willoughby too…' her eyes, deep and gentle, held his…'but, we're alive, Bass and together, and that's something wonderful…' he nodded, weaving his fingers through hers, too full to speak…then he smiled…
...
Bass sat back to watch as she bent over to pull her jeans up from around her boots… 'Its a terrible shame to cover up such a lovely ass so soon Charlotte…' he said with a wicked grin and she laughed back at him 'It'll give you something to think about on the road Bass – my ass sitting next to you…only a thin pair of jeans between it and the bench…' Then she started rearranging her tank top, and he groaned sadly… 'There's no one to see you around here but me Charlotte – couldn't you leave them out…' she gave him that one sided grin with the raised eyebrow – the 'really?' one…'Only if you let me drive…' She had to laugh at the torn look on his face... 'Tell you what Monroe… I'll save them as a treat…' she wrinkled her nose and reached over to put a finger on his lips…'maybe I'll give you a peek every few miles…but only if you try not to find every pothole in the road like you did yesterday…' he pulled her back onto his lap and she laughed up at him with lips full from his kisses and eyes a sun filled hazy blue 'Hey…now that wasn't my fault…' he said, '… maybe we should complain to the Patriots – they want to run the country, they can fix the damn roads…'
She laughed again…and leaned her head back on his shoulder, sighing happily… He kissed her ear, nibbling at the lobe… 'That felt so good Bass…I think we both needed something good…but I need to ask you something…' She shifted her weight a little and he knew what was coming… 'Bass…?' he sighed, and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose… she squirmed a little, making his still sensitive cock jump … 'Yes Charlie…?' his voice came out with a slight hitch.
She sat up straighter, 'You need to tell me what's wrong Bass…' she turned shadowed blue eyes up to his and he flinched at the concern and worry there, his heart (and everything else) sinking… 'Is it…is it something to do with me…?' she asked quietly… he sighed again… 'You are the best and most important thing in my life, Charlotte Matheson…' his arms tightened around her… 'And sometimes I dream about all the ways that I could lose you…' She looked into him with those eyes 'I dream about you too…like that… sometimes…but Bass…' she lifted a hand to his face, stroking his beard then moving to the dusty curls at the back of his neck… 'I have you now and you have me…and its good…and even though I think we're all probably going to die sometime soon…' she shrugged, eyes ironic, a small sad grin shaping her lips…'at least we'll have had something special in the meantime… a lot of people don't ever have that…' Bass tilted her chin up and slanted another kiss on her full lips… then a quote came to mind, an attempt to lighten her mood… 'And we'll always have New Xanadu kid…' his voice was pitched low and gruff…She tilted her head, eyes puzzled, lips twitching 'What…?' He gazed down at her, still gently holding her chin…'It's a take on a quote from a very old movie Charlie, although I really hope that our story doesn't end the way that one did… I want to end up with the girl…' she leaned back away from him, 'what girl?' she demanded… 'You, Charlotte...' he laughed and kissed her again, apologetic…'…and only you… I sometimes forget that you might not remember things…' She was still for a moment, thinking… 'It's Casablanca isn't it? Aaron told us the story a few times…'
She looked up then and held his gaze, her eyes very serious… 'Don't you dare do something like that to me Bass, don't you even think about giving me up just because you think it's the right thing to do…' she saw a shadow cross his face… 'I mean it … that isn't just your choice to make now – I have a say in it…' she reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand… 'I don't have anyone else who just wants me… and there's no one else I want more than you…' he took a deep breath and let it out… ', Charlotte…' he pulled her back into his arms…his chest warm and broad against her… 'It's just…I've got a hell's load of demons inside me…and…sometimes they try to get out… and It's such a big load to lay on you…' She ran her hands over the hard muscled arms holding on to her as though she was the centre of his world... 'I've got demons too Bass – but maybe you and I don't have to fight them all on our own any more …' he was silent for such a long time that she thought she could be wrong – maybe he couldn't accept that she would help – not leave him…like Miles left him she suddenly realised… 'I'm not Miles, Bass…' she gripped his hands with hers 'I'm so much more stubborn than Miles…' she pushed it even further… 'You ask him when you see him…' then she wondered if she had gone too far bringing her uncle into it…
She felt his chest rise and fall with a deep breath… 'I've been alone so long Charlie…and so much has happened…it might take a little while for me to…' his voice was low and hesitant…he sighed and pulled her even tighter against him… 'It's going to take a little while for me to really believe that I'm not…' she gave him a small smile and patted him on the arm…'I can understand that, Bass, and we'll work on it, ok…?' she held his eyes with hers…'And just so you know, tonight and every night from now on until the nightmares stop, when I see you start to have a bad dream – and I've watched you so I know how they start… I'll make sure we're safe, then I'll come and wrap myself around you and you'll feel me there, and after that the only dreams you'll have will be good ones, of me, and only me…ok?' He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes all the blues of a summer sky after rain - then he took a deep breath and let it out…'that sounds… a lot better than ok, Charlotte…'
…..
They drove for most of that day - well Bass drove mostly… although Charlie insisted on doing some of it, she wanted him to see her as a partner… She understood his need to keep and protect what he cared about (loved?) and saw as his – it was a trait they had in common, but she was smart and capable, someone he could work with and depend on to do her part – she needed to show him that she could be that for him too. Things were still so new between them – and it wasn't that long ago that her main focus had been on the best way to kill him… But she had learned a lot about him since then, and she was a Matheson, she wasn't afraid of hard work or a challenge… Some things, some people, were worth it…Bass was worth it…
They took a detour from the road to camp near the river – and without looking too hard found a deep pool with a bit of level ground nearby for the wagon. After scouting the area, securing the wheels of the wagon with chocks and tethering the horses they set up camp for the night. The evening meal was set to cooking over the fire and they got ready for a bath and a swim. 'Bass…?' Charlie called out, impatient… 'Yes Charlie…?' his voice came floating from behind the wagon while she was waiting by the pool, getting ready to be naked…'What are you doing?' she said, indignant… 'I thought you were going to help me wash my hair?' 'I'll be there in a minute Charlie…' he called back… 'Just had to settle the horses…something's spooked them…' She stopped laying out the soap and shampoo that Petra and Jen had given them…they also had provided some towels (in a soft cotton – a real luxury these days…) and walked quickly up to the wagon to meet him, fastening her belt again, checking the hang of her knife, tying the thigh strap and dipping to pick up her crossbow and quiver, 'do you want to do another sweep Bass?'
...…..…..
The Nano assembly, which was circling above and out of visual range, had been keeping watch over the humans below since their departure from the underground compound the residents called New Xanadu… Over the last several days, It/they had diverted (disposal had been identified as sub-optimal as it could attract rather than divert attention) three separate groups of humans, varying in number, in clothing associated with the large but scattered social network identified as 'Patriots' away from the trail that Charlotte and Sebastian were following. They had used several strategies, vegetation to block the way, stinging insects or small mammals to divert (experiments in manipulating these simpler organisms were progressing very well…) and had posted sub-assemblies at optimal points around them for early detection of similar identified possible threats.
It/they had been considering how to alert the two humans under its/their protection to its/their presence as it had become obvious that a means of communication with Sebastian and Charlotte was required in order to facilitate their ongoing safety and well being; opinions within the various sub-assemblies were varied as to which method could be best used to do this… Simulacra based on images from a subject's memory were being considered by all assemblies currently engaged in experiments with human subjects and one such – a childhood friend - had been identified for use with it/their creator, Aaron Pittman. Searches to date however had failed to identify suitable possibilities for either Sebastian or Charlotte that did not have a high probability of eliciting emotional distress rather than the desired trust/comfort required for positive contact…
Searching continued but had been interrupted at sunrise when a sub-assembly reported two riders in clothing that identified them as Patriot soldiers on a vector with a probability approaching certainty of passing within visual range of Charlotte and Sebastian's current location. A plan was developed and coordinated by several different sub-assemblies to intercept and attempt a more advanced technique than had been previously used – infiltration of the consciousness of the two human riders. A temporary override of the Patriots voluntary and involuntary operating systems, now implemented, could be used to demonstrate its/their positive intentions towards its/their own subject humans…and to establish a means of communicating with them. The Nano identified its/their own reaction as indicating satisfaction and anticipation as the riders, both now under its/their control, approached.
...…..
Bass and Charlie lay on their bellies on a slight rise above the river – their wagon out of sight of anyone travelling along the road at this point. Bass had the binoculars and was training them in the direction of the approaching hoof-beats – 'two riders' he whispered, 'going slow…there's something strange though…the horses look almost as though they don't know where to go…?' he sounded puzzled… Charlie felt for her crossbow… Bass had left the rifle back at the wagon, they had decided on ambush and hand to hand fighting and he had his swords - less noise if there were others around…so they'd have to let the riders get close enough for her to take one down while he dealt with the other…
The two riders came closer, the heads of both horses weaving slightly as though they were unsure of their direction, the reins hanging slack on their necks. Both riders were sitting stiffly, rocking a little from side to side with the motion of the horses… through the binoculars, Bass could see the eyes of the two men – both pairs open and staring, their mouths slack… 'Here, take a look Charlie' he whispered, handing her the binoculars… 'Something's really weird…', Charlie checked out the riders 'They look like they're sleepwalking' she whispered back, 'and they're not guiding the horses at all…', she gave the binoculars back to Bass so she could be ready with her crossbow and he put them back up to his eyes … as he did so both riders stiffly raised their right arms up from the elbow - in unison, their hands held in a curious salute, hands held forward, the four fingers of each right hand held in a two finger v shape… thumbs held out square to the rest of the hand…
Bass choked 'I'll be damned…' he looked amazed and slightly bemused… 'Charlie, they're doing the 'live long and prosper' thing with their hands… from Star Trek! It was a science fiction show…I loved that show…' Charlie nodded 'It was Mr Spock…. Aaron told us…' 'You don't have to say it Charlie' he said - flashing her a quick grin… 'I'm beginning to really like Aaron… sounds like he has great taste….' He put the binoculars back up to his eyes...'Wait a minute…what's that?' he tipped his head… 'There - above their heads…' he passed the binoculars back to Charlie … she looked where he indicated 'I think they're the same as the little green lights I saw in Xanadu, they were near some plants... the ones I thought were waving at me…' she stiffened 'Bass, I think they're trying to stop the horses…' the horses and their strange riders had got close enough for Bass to see without the binoculars and he could tell the riders were in a bit of trouble, their movements were stiff and appeared uncoordinated…and managing the increasingly agitated horses, was obviously proving problematic…
Some of the dancing green lights came closer to them, moving and circling in three dimensional formations that resembled the complex designs Charlie remembered making with a pre-blackout drawing instrument that used plastic cogs that you put a pencil through and rotated around other shapes to make patterns… Spiro something… The lights moved toward her and Bass then back towards the riders, then back to them again, their movements speeding up – as though they too were agitated…'Bass I think they want us to go help…' Bass shook his head in amazement 'Charlie, this is incredible… ' He gazed at the patterns of green lights – they moved a little closer to him, then back towards the riders and their increasingly restless mounts… He lifted the binoculars again and checked the road 'they're probably couriers… travelling between camps, if there was anyone else with them I think we'd have spotted them by now...' he gave Charlie the binoculars… 'I'd better go down and try to sort things out… will you cover me?' she grinned '…Always Bass…' They walked quickly down to the road, Bass making little soothing sounds for the horses – and magically, they seemed to calm down for him… settling down and standing quietly while he took hold of the two sets of reins…the riders had shifted slightly with the movement of the horses but had otherwise remained unnaturally still while he did it - although he could see them breathing… Charlie followed but hung back, ready with knife and crossbow in case either of the Patriots reverted to…well being Patriots… The green cloud hung above them, much calmer now, gently circling through its patterns…
Bass led the horses to where the grassy verge started to slope upwards so the men would have a soft landing if they happened to fall (he didn't care about them but didn't know what hurting them would do to the green whatever-they–were's) and found happily that they were both trained to ground tie (he was impressed despite himself…). They stood patiently while he had a look at things… 'What do you think we should call our green friends Charlie…?' she shrugged, crossbow still at the ready…' Don't know Bass…they're look sort of like fireflies…only green…' He grinned and scratched his head as he studied the situation… 'Fireflies it is then…' he ran a hand down the neck of the nearest animal and it snorted and tossed its head; he took the reins to keep its head still… 'I don't think the Fireflies have quite got the hang of riding humans yet…'
Bass looked at the saddlebags on the horses then studied the two men, neither had moved… 'Definitely couriers Charlie – It'll be really interesting to see what they're carrying…' he prodded one of them with a finger…there was no response… he glanced up at the Fireflies – calmly weaving their patterns a few metres above their heads…'Thank you…' he said although not expecting an answer… One of the men opened his mouth and a sound like a groan came out… Bass had his sword at the Patriot's throat so fast Charlie hardly saw him move… but what happened next stunned them both… The Patriot still didn't move, sitting stiffly in the saddle … but he spoke – or something did... 'I/we help… guard Sebastian and Charlotte…' the voice was monotone and stilted '…Apologies, not…familiar with this mode...learning…' the green cloud moved faster, dipping and changing patterns in quick succession…
'My God Charlotte…' Bass was staring in astonishment…'What did Rachael do…?' Charlie shook her head 'I don't know Bass…' she was amazed…'maybe Petra was right…something happened to the Nanotech – maybe during the surge…' the Patriot spoke again…'not Rachael… Aaron, Aaron and Rachael… network…family…you…I/we follow, learn…' Charlie looked up in wonder…green sparks reflecting in her eyes… 'so you see yourself as part of our family, our network…?' the green cloud circled calmly…. 'Yes…correct…Charlotte…' Bass shook his head and grinned…'I am really getting to like Aaron…' he sheathed his sword… 'So what do we do with these guys…' he glanced quickly at Charlie and then up at her newest family member… 'It'd be easier to kill them but if they don't turn up at their destination we could have Patriots swarming down on us…' the Patriot's mouth opened again…'Can hold to…get soldiers past…this location then they forget…keep going…not know you there…' Bass chewed his lip… 'Sounds like a plan to me…' he looked up 'have we got time to look at what they're carrying?' 'Fast…please… I/we watch road around for one hour ride… no other soldiers…yet…' Charlie went over to the second horse 'I'll take this one Bass…' she started going through the saddlebags…. careful not to disturb the documents more than necessary…
A few minutes later Bass was not a happy man…'They're all in Arabic…' he said loudly…'they're all in fucking Arabic…' Charlie was equally frustrated, 'I can't read mine either Bass…' then a worried frown appeared on her face… 'Except for this…' and she held out a map… Bass walked over to look – it was a map of post blackout America with Texas outlined in red. The map was criss–crossed with lines and symbols he couldn't decipher… There were circles of different sizes and colours around various towns and cities - and drawn around the town of Willoughby there was a thick red line.
…
Now again…
His familiar silhouette was a bulky dark shape on the ground to her right, his long legs and muscled form muffled by his clothes (they both slept in their clothes… a precaution on the road), a thin blanket and the moonlight… his handsome face was etched sharp and clear though and she smiled a little… the beard made his jaw line blurry – she might see if he would let her trim it tomorrow… She sighed quietly and waited… Suddenly he flung one arm over his head and took a sharp breath in… Charlie looked up and checked the softly swirling cloud of green fireflies… They had been calm all night – Bass had reported the same at the end of his watch – and they showed no sign of alarm when she softly put her crossbow down – on the ground but within reach… her knife was there too, just in case…
She figured they were as safe as they could be, so she stripped off her shirt and tank top, unclipped her bra, and hurriedly took her boots off before slipping out of her jeans (she had gone commando tonight to save time…). She moved quickly over to Bass, slipped under the blanket and lay down on her side next to him. She had got there early enough that she wasn't worried about being accidentally hit by flailing arms – and once he felt her there – she hoped he would relax… She looked at his face, outlined in the moonlight; the lines of stress smoothed out in sleep, although a frown had started to form above the bridge of his nose… Then his breathing became a little faster and he groaned… his hand reaching out blindly and finding her hip… resting there for a moment, the thumb gently rubbing over the curve of her hipbone… then moving down to her waist and resting there… He breathed a huge shuddering sigh and settled back to sleep… and if he dreamed, they were good dreams… there were no more nightmares that night...
Charlie stayed with him until dawn, keeping watch and periodically checking with their little green (family members?) allies, and early warning system… She shook her head in amazement… Boy did they have a few things to show and tell when they got to Willoughby… Then she worried again about the meaning of the circle around the town – and what the Patriots were up to…
…
AN: thanks so much for reading… I had to stop there because it was getting too long for a one –shot… I really didn't want to split this one up into chapters though… so sorry for the marathon… I would love to hear your thoughts if you would like more in this storyline…and reviews are very welcome… I might have to do more anyway though (there's already a shorter one in the pipeline, hopefully to be finished very soon), regards, Magpie