Charlie had come back for him. Miles swallowed a drink of whiskey, barely noticing the pain of being stitched up by the hot British chick. The moment Charlie's crossbow bolt felled one of the militia men surrounding him, Miles made up his mind. He was going with them, like she had asked him to.

Now he casually slipped in a mention of this decision, and looked away quickly when she smiled. What a smile she had. He didn't understand his feelings about that smile, especially the cold spark that shot through him at the thought that it was he who had caused it to light up her face like that. He carefully kept his expression blank and looked back at her. She was trying to hide the smile now, with a closed-lipped, dimpled smirk that was even more tantalizingly adorable.

"Thank you," she says, surprising him for the second time today. Two words he hadn't heard in a long time. It was like trying to remember a second language you learned in high school. "You're welcome," he gave the correct response, if a little stiffly. "We're all gonna end up with our heads on a stick, but you're welcome."

They headed out and walked southwest at a strong pace, making camp that night about forty miles outside of Chicago. They rolled out their blankets and lay down, dropping off to sleep almost immediately. All except for Miles. He was exhausted and in pain from wounds he sustained in the fight at his bar, and he knew from experience that he needed what rest he could get if he was going to survive out here. But he couldn't close his eyes. Only a few feet away, Charlie lay with her head turned sideways, her pretty face glowing in the flickering light of the campfire. Sleep made her look older than she did when she was awake, proof that her innocent face was a careful mask over her true depths. Miles didn't want to stop looking at her, even though his eyelids were heavy.

The next morning Charlie woke up before everyone and walked a short distance away to stand on the top of a hill and survey the landscape in the foreglow of dawn. A moment later Miles joined her, coming up quietly. She didn't seem surprised when he stepped up beside her, though his footsteps had been silent as a panther's from years of practicing stealth. She smiled at the horizon, then turned the smile on him, her blue eyes soft.

She whispered, "how'd you sleep?"

"Terrible," he answered gruffly.

Charlie looked at him compassionately, tilting her head, and reached up to pull a leaf out of his hair. "You were tossing and turning when I woke up," she said. "You must have been dreaming." She continued to pick at the tuft of his dark hair even after the leaf she brushed aside had floated to the ground. He knocked her arm away.

"I always dream when I sleep, Charlie."

Charlie looked at the ground. "You mean you always have nightmares. Because you're a soldier." She glanced up warily.

Miles pressed his lips together and licked them, turning his face to gaze out at the sliver of the sun now edging over the horizon. "Yes and no," he answered her. "I usually have nightmares. but last night... I was dreaming about you. Reliving yesterday's fight, and I kept coming to that moment when you... " he trailed off and Charlie raised her eyebrows. Miles swallowed and shrugged. He shook his head, expelling a sigh. "I was about to die, Charlie. I was expecting to die. Then you saved me. You're the first person who's ever done that, and, and I just can't get over the feeling. I think I fell in love with... being saved." He lowered his head and looked at her from under his eyelids.

She was watching him, a small smile curving her soft pink lips. Her eyes shone.

Miles reached up to toy with the necklace he always wore, a circle of metal on a leather cord. Not realizing how hard he was tugging it, he snapped its catch and it slipped from around his neck into the grass at their feet.

They both crouched to pick it up, and their hands touched as they reach for it. Charlie looked up into Miles' eyes and caught her breath. He was staring into her face with his dark brown eyes, and he couldn't disguise the need in them quickly enough. His gaze quickly flicked to their overlapping hands, Charlie's small fingers resting on the back of his hand. She stroked her palm over his hand to his wrist, and he looked back up at her knowingly.

Charlie pushed Miles onto his back, harder than he expected. He hit the ground, his head bouncing off the grass. He gazed up at her, cherishing the sight as she dropped to her knees, straddling him. She lowered her chest to his belly, and slid along up his torso, kissing her way up his chest to his neck, smiling little blissful smiles in between kisses and nuzzles. Charlie raised her head, smiled sweetly but hungrily, and bunching two handfuls of his shirt in her fists, she jerked his shoulders up off the ground. Moving in, Charlie buried her mouth in his.

Miles put his hands on her hips. He ran them up over the top of her pants, over the little bit of silky skin showing in between her belt and the bottom of her shirt, up her sides, sliding over her shoulders and into her hair. Miles gradually leaned back, Charlie sinking down with him as her tongue followed his. They lay making out on the hillside, feet higher than their heads.

Charlie said, "mmmmm" into the kiss, like it was the best-tasting thing she'd had since her last bite of ice cream. Legs bent on either side of Miles' hips, Charlie ground her pelvis sensually against him.

They parted and their eyes locked intensely. Charlie's hands moved urgently from Miles' chest to the hem of his shirt, peeling it off him. He arched his back to let it ride over his head. Charlie tossed the shirt away as she sat up and crossed her arms across her abdomen to pull her tank top off.

Miles rose, putting his hand on her cheek and brushing her hair back over her ear. He put his other hand behind her on the grass and they rolled over, so Miles was above her now. Their lips met again as Miles was lowering himself to his elbows and Charlie's shoulders and head sank to the ground.

Charlie was excited. The weight of his hips between her legs was warming her whole body. The hand in her hair tightened and pulled back, raising her chin, lengthening her neck. Miles kissed the corner of her mouth and opened his mouth to bite down gently around her jaw bone, just barely pressing the edges of his teeth into her skin. He shimmied his head up the side of her jaw, love-bites leading up to her ear. Charlie inhaled sharply and her hips bucked. Miles reacted to this motion by sliding his hands into the small of her back. Chills ran up and down her spine as he stroked the arc of her lumbar region and the tips of his fingers teased their way under the waistband of her pants.

The grass waved around them, birds called melodiously, pearlescent clouds soared overhead, the blinding pink ball of the sun ascended majestically out of the horizon's haze and subtly brightened into a burnished gold, lining the clouds with molten fire. It was already too bright, too late in the morning, when they returned to camp. Aaron and Maggie were ready to set out again, continuing their journey.

Miles and especially Charlie had not forgotten the importance of their mission. They still needed to spend all their time and energy on rescuing Danny. They gathered their things and the four broke camp, Charlie and Miles leaving with no breakfast. As they continued South toward the town of Pontiac, Charlie and Miles walked in pensive silence. The four were all quiet for most of the journey, saving their energy. That day all the unspoken words gathered in Charlie's eyes, and occasionally she would exchange a look with Miles that silently communicated all of them. He returned her glances with more laconic ones, saving up his feelings for later.