And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day….
A Revolution fic: Bass Monroe/Charlie Matheson, Charloe; Blackout AU. It's a few days before Christmas and President Blanchard of the Sovereign Nation of Texas is throwing a party to celebrate his inauguration. Miles and Bass have been invited along to accept their full and unconditional pardons, a couple of medals and honorary status as Texas Rangers. Rachel, Aaron and Priscilla are busy working out what the Nano are doing so Charlie is travelling with the two former generals from Willoughby to Austin - mostly to make sure they don't get into trouble, a storm is brewing and things are heating up between she and Bass…
Rating M
Author's note:
Hi there and thanks so much for having a look at this. The story is part of the Good Ship VeryCharloeChristmas2015 fic exchange. Wishing you all the very, very best Romeokijai, and I hope you enjoy this little present, and that you and your loved ones enjoy a peaceful and happy holiday season :D xx Magpie
The title is from 'Fairytale of New York' by Shane McGowan and Jem Finer (The Pogues)
I don't own any part of Revolution and am writing this purely for love of the show and its characters.
And the bells were ringing out for Christmas day…part 1
It was a few days before Christmas and the newly re-elected President Blanchard of the Sovereign Nation of Texas was throwing a party in Austin to celebrate his inauguration and the ongoing victories of the Allied Nations against the scattered Patriot remnants. Miles and Bass had been invited (well, ordered really) to go in person to accept full and unconditional pardons along with honorary status as Texas Rangers and a couple of medals each... Charlie was also in line for a medal although she had declined hers, with respect; there was no way she could accept a medal for shooting Jason, even if it had helped save Carver's life…
Rachel, Aaron and Priscilla were busy investigating the Nano stuff and were way too involved in that to go anywhere, which meant that Charlie got the job of babysitting the two former generals on the way to Austin and making sure they stayed out of trouble. She grinned, a bit of trouble might not be such a bad thing - things had been just a teeny bit on the boring side lately as far as she was concerned. A good bunfight and the chance to roll some patriots might take her mind off thinking about a certain person. And given that the certain person's ungrateful son of a bitch son was still off flying in the wind, it might take his mind off his own worries too...
So, here she was travelling with her uncle and Monroe, or her honorary Uncle Bass as he'd taken to calling himself just to piss her off, which it did, because the way she'd been thinking of Sebastian Monroe lately was a long, long way from avuncular; those intense blue eyes, wide, white toothed smile (when he wasn't being all deep, blond and broody) and the tall, beautifully muscled body had appeared in so many of her dreams that she'd given up counting them.
She was pretty sure he had been dreaming about her too… There were the long, lingering looks, the way his eyes went all burning blue when they rested on her lips or skated over her breasts and butt. And then there was the way he watched her back and respected her skills… why just the other day he'd given her his last magazine so she could finish off a Patriot Cadet handler they found hiding in a barn outside of Willoughby… She grinned again; Bass Monroe knew exactly how to make a girl feel warm and tingly…
Anyway, he and Miles had spent the last hour or so trying to outdo each other in telling gory war stories and comparing battle scars, although after Mexico and Casa Nunez, Monroe was indisputably in the lead in the scars department… She sighed, that didn't make any difference at all to her subconscious; it still thought he was the sexiest thing since, well since she started thinking about things like that.
She couldn't pin down just exactly when he'd gone from being Monroe to being Bass, or when she'd started seeing him as a really, really attractive guy instead of, well, Monroe. But somewhere along the way she had. She hadn't done anything about it – not yet, nor had he, but every time they were near each other it felt like the air crackled and sparked with tension, like the air before a really big storm…
Then as though he heard her thinking about him, which she somehow could totally believe, he turned and looked at her, his eyes a bright, wicked, crystal blue against the tanned skin of his face; his body sitting sinfully loose and easy in the saddle and a little smile playing around his mouth…
She felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine that set her clit throbbing and she circled her hips against the low pommel, trying to get some relief… her tongue darting out, moistening her lips as a small gasp escaped…
He noticed… of course he did, and the heat in his eyes sent another bolt searing down to her belly…
Shit… she narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring his spreading, knowing smile; then kicked her horse forward to join Miles who was on point…
Miles turned to her and grinned, oblivious to the hormonal undercurrents happening around him... 'So then I shot the guy, the bullet went right through him, ricocheted back off the wall and creased my ear' the grin turned into a chuckle… 'Bass thought I'd bought it and shot the guy again, even though he was already dead…'
Charlie had a moment of total confusion because she had no idea what he was talking about, 'Oh… that's… good?'
A dark eyebrow went up…'Yeah…' He looked her over, 'are you ok? You look a bit flushed…'
She grinned back and shrugged, carefully avoiding the blue eyes twinkling at her behind Miles' back… 'Yeah, I'm fine, I was just thinking we'd better get a move on if we want to make Austin on schedule'.
He huffed and kicked his horse into a canter. 'Ok, ok, but Blanchard had better have a few bottles of his good whisky waiting for us, just saying…'
…..
A few hours later in a lull between stories, the wind started to turn cold and dark storm clouds gathered like spreading green and purple bruises on the horizon...
Miles looked at the sky, the clouds were rapidly getting darker, roiling towards them in ominous waves from the horizon and he reached up a hand to button his coat against the cold… 'I'm pretty sure that lot's a whole lot closer than it was a few minutes ago…'
Bass kept his big, skittish bay firmly in hand 'you think?'
Charlie was having trouble keeping her mare from bolting as the wind suddenly picked up, whistling and moaning around them in a flurrying swirl of leaves and small stones. The horse was snorting and stamping, eyes wide and white rimmed. 'I don't think we can ride this one out, maybe we can find some shelter over there?' She pointed with an elbow, both hands busy with the reins…
They were coming up to a crossroads, a stretch of forest filling the view in front and to their right, and to the left what appeared to be a small town a couple of miles off down the road, a white church spire rising against the sky. A fallen signpost shot too full of holes to read lay at the junction, pointing vaguely at the sky.
Miles turned towards the town 'Sounds like a plan.' He kicked his horse into a canter. 'Let's go to town.'
…
The place looked deserted as they rode in just ahead of the storm, the ripped and ragged awnings over the main street's dusty shop fronts flapping in the growing wind and tumbleweeds rolling down the cracked bitumen, gathering in fragile tangled piles against the sides of buildings.
Charlie looked around for somewhere they could shelter inside with the horses. 'What about the church?'
Bass circled round, the wind catching his jacket and belling it out. 'Looks like as good a place as any, and we could take the horses inside...'
Miles nodded and shrugged, 'Can't see anybody hanging around to say we're not allowed.'
They hurried towards the once elegantly white painted stone building in the centre of town, its entrance tower still standing and the spire with the cross at the top still proud although there were gaping holes and missing tiles on the sloping roof. A good number of the stained glass windows were broken too and the churchyard garden behind the drystone wall was overgrown and littered with rubbish blown in by the wind…
As they clattered through the fallen lych gate and onto the wide crushed stone path leading up to the big arched wooden doors, one of the doors opened and a small, female figure dressed in faded fatigues emerged, silhouetted against the dark of the interior and side-lit by a shaft of sunlight that flashed down through a gap in the clouds, a rifle held at the ready and pointed towards them. 'Stop right there or I'll shoot,' then the voice tailed off and the dark eyes widened in shock.
All three of them pulled their horses to a halt.
Bass already had his pistol aimed and steady 'you see anyone else, Miles?'.
Miles was checking the area around them, then he turned back, 'Nah…looks clear to me,' then his eyes went to the door…
Charlie frowned, there was something very familiar about the woman but she couldn't quite place it… and then she saw Miles' face out of the corner of her eye and turned to stare…
He was looking suddenly older; the lines around his mouth harsh and his eyes haunted, a slow breath hissing out between his lips, 'Mia…'
Charlie had another look at the woman; she was young, very pretty, dark haired, coffee skin and her sister's eyes, dark, lovely. Shit. The last time they'd seen Mia, she'd turned them into the Militia, to Strausser.
Then another figure, slim, in faded tank and low slung cargo pants walked slowly out to stand beside Mia, the barrel of a gun glinting in the stormy light, the wind ruffling the strands of dark hair escaping an untidy bunch at the nape of her neck…
'What the fuck?' Bass' finger tightened on the trigger, a reflex…
Miles shot out a hand, grabbing the barrel, his face white under the tan, 'Bass, no'
Charlie stared, not believing, 'Nora?'
…
AN: Hi and I hope you're enjoying it so far…Christmas day was racing towards me and I really wanted to have this at least up and started by then, so, there'll be a couple of other parts to this, coming as soon as I can get them done So, again, wishing you a wonderful, Charloe Christmas! And a big hi and thank you to the lovely Captains of the GSC – and all the writers and readers who sail on her… xx Magpie