Ride, ride my see saw…
A Revolution fic: Charloe, Sebastian (Bass) Monroe/Charlotte (Charlie) Matheson; Mention of characters from the show including, Ely Gould, the Bookie, Miles, Rachael and Danny Matheson, Aaron Pittman, the Patriots, Tom and Jason Neville, Will Strausser… The story is based on a prompt from the Good Ship Charloe writers page – where Bass sees Charlie with the Bookie in Gould's fight tent in New Vegas and knows she's the one asking for him…
Rating M
Author's note:
Hi there and thanks so much for having a look at this… The story title is taken from a song of that name recorded by the Moody Blues and written by their bass player, John Lodge. The prompt sort of took hold of me and wouldn't let me go… I hope you like it
I don't own any part of Revolution and am writing this purely for love of the show and its characters.
Ride, ride my see-saw…
Part 1.
Sebastian Monroe was half-heartedly beating the crap out of the latest untrained piece of cannon fodder Gould had lined up for him… bored out of his brain, even though he really was trying to keep things bloody and interesting for tonight's crowd of vicarious thrill seekers… He got paid a lot more if the betting went well for Gould... then out of the corner of his eye he saw Charlotte Matheson saunter into Gould's tent, large as life and just as full of Matheson spunk as he remembered from Philadelphia and the Tower… (and from the lost years before the blackout when she was a little cherub with Matheson grit in every bone…).
There was no mistake… that face was engraved on his brain… She looked like she'd just walked through hell's sweaty armpit but she was still beautiful enough to take his breath away and tighten his jeans – especially revved as he was from fighting – even a fight as crap easy as this one… The long, stringy, dirty blond hair clinging around that gorgeous face – the skin gleaming from the heat of the night and the humid, fetid air of the tent, her cheekbones a little more defined since he last saw her (in the Tower…before the bombs that changed the world – again…), the lips fuller, the eyes harder, gaze intent and searching, shadowed in the lamplight…
Her hair was longer too, reaching down to her slim waist and it swung in heavy, sweaty waves as she prowled into the crowded tent in a faded blue tank top that showed off her full breasts and taut belly and was bisected diagonally between those breasts by the straps holding her crossbow and bag to her back… Her jeans were tight enough that they clung like a second skin to her curvy hips and slim legs… and a metal chain belt swung at her hips with each step, drawing the eye of every man – and some of the women - in the place that wasn't watching the fight or fixing on another woman and even some of them turned to look…
He sucked in a breath…God… She was all grown up and don't mess with me attitude… He could feel her reaching out to his fight or fuck (mostly fuck) reflexes like a siren call… and he knew exactly the moment when she spotted him because her eyes fell on him like spotlights from some crazy lookout tower just before she slid behind a group of nondescript scruffy men – out for a night of fun in Vegas…avoiding their drunkenly groping hands with lithe and practised skill…
He checked the crowd, carefully looking through her – not wanting to give her any sign that he had seen her or that he even knew she was there… and where the hell was Miles? Bass couldn't believe that his brother (still his brother, no matter what…) would be so fucking idiotic as to let her come to this cesspit without him - would he? But there was absolutely no sign of Miles - or even Rachael… So why was she here on her own…? It couldn't be coincidence - could it...? He felt a painful grinding in his gut… and what had happened to change her so much? She was all anger and fuck with me if you dare…. He let the guy land a blow to his right cheek… The sharp pain (added to all the others on his body and his soul…) woke him up a little… and his lips twisted – what could have happened…? Apart of course from the nuclear bombs and even more death in a world gorged on it… but had something happened to Miles…or her Mother? Had she had even more deaths to blame him for?
He needed to know… because if it was about Miles he had to know… and also because by the feel of that hot blue gaze on him, she was here after blood… Monroe's lips tightened and he coughed out a laugh at the irony of life because here she was reminding him that he wasn't absolutely alone in the world (however the hell she had found him…) and he was pretty sure she was here to kill him…
He spat out a little blood from a cut on his lip as he lazily avoided another slow jab from the clumsy, tiring and beaten man in the ring with him… Then he landed another one, two of his own… fists landing on flesh with an audible smack and a shudder from the guy that sent aftershocks up his arms… But even with a sick feeling in his gut and the dread of finding out that maybe he had to add Miles to his long list of dead and gone's… Bass felt more alive than he had in months with her right there, almost close enough to touch as he circled the other guy in the ring, feeling her eyes on him, feeling the hate and the lust (for revenge?) in those eyes like a lash on his skin…the intensity of it going like lightening bolts straight down his belly to his dick… She'd just made this fight a whole lot more interesting…and he'd be happy to give her a show… The crowd roared and yelled as he flashed them a smile and did a little butterfly dance away from the belly shot the guy was sort of aiming at him…
All these months and he hadn't forgotten her, not for a second… his last view of her in the tower flashed across his brain - lying trapped under that pile of tubes and rubble, her eyes a burning blue in that gorgeous face, furious with him even after he blew a man apart into a million pieces to save her, and before that… a more innocent defiance in those eyes when Strausser told Rachael to choose which of her children would die… and as she demanded that he pick her - not her brother (who had stupidly got himself killed later anyway…) Hell, they both could have died because of Rachael's stubbornness... and she was so like Miles Bass could tell what she was thinking just by being near her… His eyes narrowed, oh yeah, he knew what she was thinking and it was all about how good it would feel to push her knife into his heart, or have him dead centre in her crossbow sights; to try to end her pain by ending him… He wondered how he could tell her that it wouldn't be as easy as that; that the pain just kept coming… not that she'd believe him anyway…
He drew part of his attention back to the fight – keeping the rest on her as she wove around the tent and him… and he knew she was working out her next move… Did she really think she could come out on top against him? What had happened to her to make her so stupidly reckless? Miles should have taught her better than that… but maybe it was her very own idea, maybe she was too far gone into the war zone of hate and grief to care… He felt a curious sense of empathy – and responsibility (?) start to wake up again inside him… This was Charlotte Matheson, courageous and willing to sacrifice herself for those she cared about, and she shouldn't be walking around with death in her eyes…
There was a wary, resigned look on the other fighter's face; he knew he was nearly finished…that he hadn't even had a ghost of winning this… He still came forward though, Bass had to give him that – but then the poor fool didn't really have a choice, Gould owned him, lock, stock and both balls… It was time to put him out of his misery and Bass moved in for the proverbial… twisting his toned and hardened body with sinuous grace around the guy and landing three fast, crushing jabs to the kidneys then one to the head… letting some of his endless, bottomless anger out to play … The guy fell to his knees… already gone... But he hit him another one anyway…and the guy went down to stay…
Bass stood still for a moment… a Gladiator grim smile turning his face into a mask celebrating another bloody triumph – giving the crowd their moment… letting them see the disdain for them in his eyes… Except they didn't care… they never cared… The noise in the tent rose into cheers, the sound ebbing and flowing… Empty people celebrating or mourning another meaningless victory in an endless string of meaningless victories… He sighed…stretching the kinks out of his neck and back, then ran a hand through his sweat stained curls…leaving bloody streaks behind…
He looked around for Charlotte without being too obvious about it although he already had a sense of where she'd be… And there she was, the bright glint of diamonds dropping from her hand into the waiting pouch held in Gould's tame bookie's greasy hand, her eyes briefly focused on the little man as she did it… But he felt it like a shiver down his skin when her gaze returned to him…and he carefully looked anywhere but at her, his cool, casual gaze moving over and through her as though she wasn't there… He took his shirt from the tall willowy blond who'd been keeping it for him, waiting for him to finish… put it on and did up most of the buttons…leaving a few at the top undone – flashing the top of his abs and his muscular neck for crowd appeal (Gould liked it when he showed off his assets…) and as he was rolling the sleeves up - showing off his scars too… the blonde asked him something about why he kept fighting… 'It's better than my last job…' he said to the air… She looks a little like Charlotte he realised…but of course isn't her… She's sweet and lovely and jaded, but at the moment he can't remember her name – and he has enough remnants of grace left to feel a little ashamed of that…
Charlotte Matheson was here in New Vegas, Charlotte Matheson… who knew for dead certain, because she had been there at the Tower, that he hadn't dropped the bombs on his city and on Atlanta but who blamed him for absolutely everything else… Even though it was her own damn mother who had taken the world away and wouldn't even try to give it back until it was too fucking late – especially for the people in Philly and Atlanta… Charlotte Matheson, who just had to open her mouth and mention his name to anyone here to guarantee a good old fashioned lynching - or worse – for Sebastian Monroe but who for some reason hadn't done that… Then he remembered the look in her eyes as she circled around the tent… It was the look of a predator with a nice juicy rabbit in its sights… So she wanted him all to herself did she…? He smiled and licked some blood off his cut lip, the taste and smell of it like the tang of metal and blood from all of the battles he had seen and survived… The thing she didn't know, or maybe she did and she didn't care, was that he had been a predator for a whole lot longer than she had…and he didn't intend to be anyone's rabbit…
He felt like things were at a balance point… something was going to change… He also knew that someone else, someone besides Charlotte Matheson, was watching him… because he could feel their eyes too…
He casually looked around the tent as his willowy blond companion… Jessie, that was her name… Jessie… snuggled up close to his sweat soaked side as they headed for the bar and the roulette wheel… but didn't spot anyone else staring at him in that particular way… yet… he focused some attention back on the woman at his side… she was lovely and any other night he would be taking her back to his trailer… Like everyone else in this crazy place, Jessie was just looking for someone strong enough to protect her from the feeding frenzy that the world had become… He wondered how and why it had come down to this… why had it all failed so badly… and he felt his own failure like heavy stones, piled on his back like the skulls of the dead…
At the Roulette wheel he put a small pile of diamonds on black…and then lost them all as the wheel stopped on red seven… 'Wouldn't have any luck at all if it wasn't bad…' he said carelessly to Jessie, she shrugged and said something meant to be comforting… but he used the need to get some more diamonds from his trailer as an excuse to get away – there were plenty of other opportunities here for her tonight… She clung onto his arm as he went… but he left without a backward glance and then forgot about her…
He looked around for the bookie – the little guy loved making a deal and often arranged for interested girls to meet the famous Jimmy King after a fight for a price - the most logical move for Charlotte would have been to pay for a meet and greet so that she could get him on his own…
Bass quickly spotted him not far away, making yet another deal in a lifetime made up of deals… He headed over and caught the smaller man's eye; letting him know he was serious about talking… The other deal was closed quickly and the bookie sidled up to Bass, carefully not touching him…not getting too close…He had seen what Jimmy King aka General and former President of the Monroe Republic, Sebastian Monroe, was capable of and didn't want to provoke him into doing any of that to him… 'Hey Jimmy… I'm glad you came over… I was just coming to find you…' his eyes narrowed and a sly grin curved his wide mouth… 'There's a chick wants to meet you…and I hope you're not too tired 'cause believe me you'll want to stay awake for this one…'
….
Charlie had watched Monroe go to the roulette wheel with the blond woman hanging on his arm like she didn't have legs of her own… but her mind was still full of the sight of him during the fight…the sweat running down his skin and outlining his bare, heavily muscled, chiselled torso and strong arms in gold from the lamplight… The strikingly handsome - she had to admit it - face was a bit different with a light beard and moustache, but it was him… it was Monroe, just not quite the Monroe she remembered…
This wasn't the polished General she had met in Philadelphia, the man who had almost let that creepy Strausser kill her and/or her brother, and then for some reason had saved her life at the Tower… This was a physically astonishing Monroe… who fought like he meant it and won with brutal efficiency… She had felt something primitive inside her become hungry and urgent during the fight and had had to actually stop herself cheering when he won… She hadn't realised that he could really fight, had thought he was just a figurehead general… and, if she was being honest…she had to admit to herself that watching him as he totally ruined the other guy's day had made her horny as hell… her jeans getting damper and more uncomfortably tight between her legs as the fight went on… He was amazing to look at and sexy as all get out even when he was only half naked (a vision of him all naked rose in her brain and she felt a sudden rush of heat to her sex that made her gasp...) and if he wasn't who he was or maybe because he was who he was? And how twisted was that…? She would so be coming on to him… Maybe she could fuck him and then kill him and have the best of both worlds…
Some still young and hopeful part of her wept at that thought and what it said about how far she had fallen, into…something… She kicked it back into its cradle and returned to contemplating Monroe… that childish part of her would soon be as dead as she intended to make him…
Charlie liked men just as much as they seemed to like her so she tried to tell herself again that it was just her body reacting to the fight and the testosterone raging around the tent…and not to the sheer and inescapably male presence of Monroe - but she knew she was lying to herself… There was something about the fact that she knew him… that he was the only person for a months travel around that knew her that called to her as well…and she knew she had to be broadcasting her interest like a beacon of arousal… Men around her at the bar where she was waiting for her drink to come were starting to notice, paying her a lot more attention… and once her (harsh and nasty) whiskey came, she had to squeeze her way past more than a few persistent types – casually digging hard into their soft bellies with her sharp elbows… accidentally stepping onto a couple of toes with her worn but still effective steel studded heels…giving them her death ray stare (courtesy of lessons from Miles and Aaron…) and keeping her free hand on her knife…
She was going to have to rethink her strategy… She hadn't figured on finding Monroe – like this…and to be truthful she didn't really have a strategy… She had just pictured herself with him dead…somehow… at her feet… She hadn't thought about how… She had some skills and had been able to take care of herself in most situations but the reality of Monroe now was so – different – to how she'd imagined… Jeff the cute barman had said he'd looked like cold hell warmed over but she thought he'd say something different if he saw him now… Monroe was quite obviously and simply much stronger, faster and much more experienced at fighting than her… She frowned and found somewhere to lean, then pushed her elbow into another soft belly – she had to use her boot too and waste another death stare… the guy really wanted to intrude on her space…. and took a sip of the awful whiskey…
He was in hiding though… using another name…and all she'd have to do would be to point to him, say his name out loud and show them her arm with his brand on it and they'd believe her and he'd be torn apart by a mob who thought he'd sent the bombs… She didn't want that though… she wanted him for herself, she wanted to make him hurt like he'd hurt her…? To make him pay for all he'd done, even though it wasn't all his fault or doing and deep inside she knew it… It had been so much easier to lay all of the blame on him before she found him… it wasn't quite so easy now, damn it… she swallowed the rest of the foul whiskey with a shudder and upended the glass onto a small empty space on one of the tables…
She reminded herself of the mission… unless she could get a clear shot at him from close range, her best chance of getting to Monroe when he was in any way vulnerable was by using the strengths that she had… She knew he liked women, she had heard the stories and when he'd looked at her in the tower – and even back in Philadelphia - she could have sworn there was something there… something electric…that maybe he'd found her attractive and she could use that – and tonight she found the idea strangely compelling…
She looked down at herself and frowned…she hadn't realised just how dirty and, she sniffed… smelly… she'd got, and although she had been able to wash the basic bits at a stream that morning, she'd been too wary to undress enough to take a proper bath… She'd be lucky if Monroe wanted to come within six feet of her at the moment…let alone get close enough so that she'd have a chance of getting under his guard… Besides she really wasn't sure, now that the excitement and arousal from watching the fight had died down a little, how she felt about doing - that - with Monroe… A strange mixture of excitement, anticipation, fear and defiance roiled in her stomach and she felt her clit pulsing and moisture pooling between her legs again just at the thought of him… She tensed the muscles there and squeezed her thighs together to try to relieve herself a little…
Screwing Sebastian Monroe would be something she couldn't take back… and what would her family think…? And, she thought ruefully, did that really matter now? Especially if Monroe was dead… as she intended him to be soon… Miles only seemed to care about her mom, her grandpa ditto, her mom was off in her own world and poor Aaron blamed himself for everything going wrong… and Danny, Danny was dead…Nora was dead, Maggie was dead…
She was more alone at this time and in this place than she had ever been before in her life…and it suddenly hit her that if she died here and now, none of her family would know, no one would care, no one would even know who she was…except, maybe, him… She stared into space… not blinking for a long moment… maybe they should just die together and finish it all…
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned fast around on her heel, crouching in a defensive stance, her hand on her throwing knife… the guy who had done the tapping quickly put both hands in the air in surrender… 'Hey, babe, chill…it's me…' she relaxed a little… it was the bookie guy… He smiled… a cheesy, sleazy smile…'you're in luck babe… Jimmy said to tell you that he'd be very happy to meet you…' Charlie smiled, somehow producing a confident, broad smile out of her kit bag… her dimple peeking out… although the smile didn't really show in her eyes…'That's really great…' she said, a little too brightly '…hey, what is your name anyway…?' he shrugged… 'Don't matter babe, people just call me the bookie...' he smirked… 'Anyway, Jimmy said he's got some time now if you want to meet up…' she stepped a little closer to him, smile fading; her eyes narrow and intent… 'Where…?"
"He said he'd wait outside the tent Babe, round the back, go to the right when you get out the door and keep going around…' the bookie's grin faded a little at the look on her face…'But he said you'd have to hurry… he got people to see… things to do…' he shrugged and winked… 'You know – he's a busy man…' she stepped away then paused… 'How do I know you're telling me the truth?' he shrugged again… 'You gave me enough diamonds to pay for Jimmy's time and a cut for me…but, suit yourself…' he looked pointedly at her knife, prominent in its hip holster, her crossbow slung across her shoulders and the (new) throwing stars hanging from a couple of rings on her belt 'You look like you can take care of your own self… but it's up to you, Babe, I'm just giving you the message… you do what you like with it…' She stared at him for a moment…then nodded… 'Ok, well thanks for the message…' she turned and headed for the door…
Outside, it was suddenly a little quieter, a little darker except for the pools of light cast by the oil lamps and braziers… There were fewer people around the tent now too… most were inside at the bar or gone to other venues… or even sleeping, if anyone ever really slept around here… Charlie pulled her knife out ready; slung her crossbow and backpack off her shoulders, carrying them in her other hand and turned to the right, walking slowly and quietly on the trampled dirt pathway around the fight tent into a sort of cleared area – obviously used to hang washing and sit away from the crowds… The patchy grass was softer underfoot, especially as she got further around the big tents walls then the path led into an alley way between the fight tent and another… and she tensed, checking around her for movement… but there was no one around… The sounds from inside the fight tent fading a little as she walked on, leaving a distant hum of voices and the sound of someone playing a guitar and singing off in the distance - something about a see-saw…? The night breeze felt good, cooling her skin after the close, humid, coppery, sweat and alcohol atmosphere of the tent…and everything looking drained of colour but quite clear in the bright moonlight… Where was he…?
Suddenly a hard arm snaked around her waist from behind her, out of the dark, and a strong, hard hand gripped the wrist of her knife hand… She instinctively threw her head back and up towards his chin (she knew it was him… it had to be him…), dropping her bow and bag on the ground and thrusting the elbow of that arm hard back towards his stomach, kicking back at his shins with her boot heel … But faster than she would have believed possible she was on the ground, immobilised by a hard, broad, impossibly strong body, silhouetted dark against a sky full of stars… his long legs scissoring and trapping hers between his, both of her arms (her knife gone) held easily above her head by one of his hands, his other hand tensed on the ground near her shoulder supporting most of his weight… her chest and lower body partly covered with his… She literally couldn't move…and she panicked… her head frantically shaking from side to side, body bucking under his weight… legs and body trying to throw his away from her… Then she opened her mouth to scream, taking in a deep breath…
Monroe groaned and his voice hissed out above her… 'Charlotte, stop… I'm not going to hurt you…' but the scream had already started and without warning his mouth was on hers…his lips sealing the scream in, taking it into himself… Charlie stiffened in shock, her eyes wide… Bass pulled back a little, just enough so that he could look into those eyes…'Charlotte…' her night vision had improved enough that she could see his face above hers, his eyes blazingly intent on her - somehow catching and concentrating the ambient light… 'Listen…' he bent down closer, those eyes like twin pools that she was falling into or that were falling onto her… 'I am not going to hurt you…'
She couldn't think with him so close, his body hot and heavy on her… She hadn't realised what it would feel like to have Monroe right there, and he overwhelmed her… it was too much… her heart was thudding and she didn't know whether she wanted him to get off her or kiss her again and… she stared up at him…frozen in place, any plans forgotten…except one… And suddenly she was so… angry…with him…with everything… 'But I'm going to hurt you Monroe…' she spat out… furious…'I so want to hurt you…'
He grinned down at her, his eyes glinting with a touch of admiration and more than a hint of something very primal… 'Sort of figured that one out for myself…' he lifted an eyebrow… stretching her arms out just a little bit more so that her breasts strained against the thin and tattered material of her tank top, his eyes traced a burning line downwards and he tightened his legs on either side of hers…'So here I am Charlie' he moved his weight a little to the side, and brought his free hand up to the side of her face, running his finger gently down its contours… down over her neck and collar bone, then tracing the outside curve of her breast… his finger lazily stroking her there… Her body reacted to the gentle touch, her nipples rising up into little points clearly visible through the thin material of her bra and tank…'Give it your best shot…' a little smile curved his mouth and his voice came out low and a little hoarse, she narrowed her eyes and glared up at him, as his came back up to meet hers… and she struggled again, trying to get a knee free so she could… then slumped back, not able to move, not gaining anything… 'You… you smug bastard…' she said tightly, he shrugged 'Ouch…?' he said raising an eyebrow…'Come on Charlotte, you're not even trying…' if looks could kill she'd have done it then… but he just chuckled and stroked his fingers down to the little strip of skin between the bottom of her tank, almost luminous in the night… then traced along it, the skin of his fingers rough, sending little sparks of sensation downwards… 'Hmmn…' he mused… 'You are a tempting little thing Charlie…' she glared harder and tightened her stomach muscles, pulling away from him… 'Bastard…'
He studied her face in the moonlight… she thought he actually looked curious…'How were you going to do it anyway…?' 'Do what?' she shot back… 'Well, I was sort of expecting you to try to kill me… so I grabbed you first…' he actually sounded a little puzzled… Charlie turned her head away from him and sighed heavily… 'I…you caught me by surprise… I… I was going to use my knife… ' A new thought occurred to her… 'And how did you know it was me anyway? ' He considered all of that… 'I spotted you as soon as you walked into Gould's tent Charlie…you really don't fade into the background very well…' he smirked at her discomfort at hearing that…. Then his face got serious…. 'but this was really stupid… you're in unfamiliar territory; you didn't know where I was or what weapons I had, and you knew I was waiting for you…. Didn't Miles teach you anything? What were you thinking?' Charlie felt herself redden and she turned her face away as far as she could although thankfully he wouldn't be able to see… 'Why do you care Monroe…?' she muttered… but he was right…she had been stupid… He frowned down at her… 'Maybe I'm not quite the monster you think I am….' The glare returned…and he shrugged… 'Ok… we'll take that one under advisement… Where is Miles anyway…?' Charlie let out a breath… 'He's not here…'
Monroe chewed his lip... he really didn't want to ask but… 'Is he ok…? I mean… he's alive isn't he?' Charlie looked into his eyes… he actually looked – worried? 'Yes… and yes… at least he was when I saw him a few months ago…' Monroe's head shot up… 'A few months?' His voice got louder…'A few months…? If he's alive then what the fuck is he doing just letting you wander around on your own for a few months…?' She exploded herself then… 'He didn't let me do anything Monroe! I'm not a child… I can look after myself…' he rolled his eyes…'Sure you can…most of the time…' he tightened his grip on her hands and leaned forward again, his face – set in hard lines - getting closer to her own…his eyes intense and… scary… 'Charlotte… most of the time isn't good enough around here…' she stared up at him, couldn't look away… her heart pounding as he got closer and closer… 'I could do anything I wanted to you right now… and you couldn't stop me…' he whispered against her lips…'I could do anything Charlie…anything at all…' he kissed her gently then lifted his head back… 'But you're lucky tonight…I'm no rapist and I try really hard not to kill people these days - unless I have to… but I can't say the same about a lot of the men around here – and some of the women... This is a very, very bad place, and there are people around here who even give me nightmares…' She gazed up at him…she didn't know what to think…this wasn't how he was supposed to be…
Charlie relaxed as much as she could in the cage of his arms and legs… and looked up at him… her eyes had adjusted to the ambient light and she could see the muscles of his chest and abs through the tunnel that his shirt made as it hung down over her… they were pretty good muscles and she remembered thinking how amazing he looked without his shirt… the view was even nicer close up than it had been from a distance… and he smelled of strong male sweat and a little of blood… She even seemed to be getting used to the fact that it really was General Sebastian Monroe… her nightmare Boogy man and secret obsession actually here and holding her almost like a lover… almost… although weirdly he was still treating her more like a silly kid…and she was so over that…
He shifted his weight a little…'What's going on in that devious mind of yours Charlotte…?' she gazed up at him, letting what she felt show in her eyes… she ran her tongue over her lips and his eyes shifted to follow the tongue… He had shifted enough that she was able to move one of her knees, she rubbed it gently up over his thigh to the bulge between his legs, feeling it harden and seeing it grow as she stroked… he took a sharp breath in… and she smiled slyly… 'I liked watching you Monroe…in there… You were so different from Philadelphia…' she took a deep breath and stretched out, arching her back and lifting her breasts towards him…he just looked at her… tension making his face into a mask… and his hand tightened on her wrists…'I knew you'd win, the other guy was crap… but you made it look beautiful… the fighting…you just rolled him…' he swallowed… 'Charlie…don't… you were just turned on by the action…' he moved away from her a little more so she couldn't reach him… 'Everyone gets a bit that way… why do you think there's fighting and whores in the same place? Gould makes most of his money on fight nights…'
She stretched out, moving her body against him where she could…her legs against his…the side of her breast brushing his underarm…'Did you get turned on too Monroe...?' she licked her lips again… and his gaze dropped to her mouth…'I saw you with that blonde woman… were you going to fuck her tonight…?' his eyes narrowed suddenly… 'Why are you doing this Charlie…?' his voice was harsh…'I thought you wanted to kill me, not fuck me….' Charlie gazed up at him 'What if I wanted to do both…? What does it matter? No one really cares… everybody dies… or leaves…or… Miles only thinks about Mom now… and I'm all that's left…and I thought you wanted me…' She stopped moving, going limp underneath him…and her voice became hard and brittle although he could hear the anguish underneath... 'Now, if you don't want to fuck me, let me up so I can go find someone who does…'
Monroe sighed heavily…'I understand about pain, and being alone Charlotte, believe me…' she turned her head away from his gaze... not wanting him to see the tears that welled up when he said that… 'Why do you think I fight…?' she didn't answer… he stroked the hair back from her face and she twisted away…'Don't be so…nice…' she looked up at him, eyes wet and stormy 'I don't want you to be nice…I want you to be…Monroe… I need to get rid of all this…this…' she bit on her bottom lip…'I know, I look awful… and I haven't had a proper bath in days….' He chuckled wryly… 'Charlotte Matheson… you're gorgeous and you know it… and you could have any man you wanted bath or no bath...including me…' she looked up at him…eyes wide… 'But you really don't want any of the men you'll find here, and I…' he sighed again… 'So what am I going to do with you…'
He tensed suddenly… and his hand went over Charlie's mouth in a warning to be quiet… and surprising herself she listened, stayed still and waited as the heavy boots of several men went past the gap between the tents, silhouetted against the light of the lamps outside Gould's tent… he gave it a few minutes after they had passed and let her go…then his voice came to her in a whisper… 'Soldiers… Charlie, they call themselves Patriots, pretending to be US Government troops…' he frowned down at her, eyes dark and serious … 'There's been a lot of them around lately, spouting all kinds of crazy stuff ' he shrugged…'And they really don't like me for some reason…' Charlie huffed… 'Can't imagine why that is…' he frowned down at her 'You think I was bad Charlotte? Some of the things I've heard about these guys make me look like a teddy bear even at my worst…' he pointed his chin towards the back of the fight tent… 'My trailer's back there… Gould's kind enough to provide crash pads for fighters who make money for him …we can go and finish this inside…' She glared up at him 'What if I tell you to go to hell Monroe…' he glared right back…'what makes you think you've got a choice…'
…
AN: thanks so much for reading… I got to 10,000 words and thought I'd better split this story into two parts – part 2 will be up in the next couple of days – then I need to get the next chapters of Semper Fidelis and Memories up too… This story really wanted to come out tho' and it has been quite an adventure to write… really hope it lives up to the prompt – I wanted to know what Bass and Charlie might have done if they'd met up in a slightly different way… all the best, Magpie