A/N: You didn't think I'd beg for birthday stories and not share one myself, did you? No way. This is my little thank you to all the Charloe fandom… Not just the writers, but the readers too. You guys rock. When I mentioned my birthday was coming, I shamelessly asked for some new stories, and wow! The results were awesome. Thanks to each and every one of you - especially to Ice at the GoodShipCharloe for letting a larger audience know what my bday wish was. You guys make this all so much fun. -Lemon
Wednesday…
Charlie Matheson is having lunch with her Uncle Miles at their favorite hole in the wall Italian restaurant. They don't talk much until the plates full of spaghetti and garlic bread are almost empty. Finally full, they both lean back happily with frosty mugs of beer. It's time to catch up.
"So," Miles says, "How's the class going?"
"Almost graduated." Charlie grins at him, "I'm all calm and Zen now. It's a miracle." She rolls her eyes.
Miles grins at her, "Yeah, sure you are. You, uh, ever see Jason…after everything that happened?"
"No. Strangely enough, he's kept his distance."
"Well, my offer stands. If you think he needs any additional punishment – now that you're all Zen and shit – just let me know. I'll be happy to help out."
"Oh yeah?" she shakes her head, "Didn't think policemen were supposed to beat the crap out of guys who cheat on their nieces? If you did that, then you'd be the one stuck in Anger Management Class – at the very least. Not sure, but they might just throw up their hands and give up as soon as you walked in."
"Oh, I've taken that class a time or two over the years." Miles grins at a distant memory. "Blanchard still teach it?"
"Yeah, he does. He's a character. Won't let any of us use our real names in class. Gives everyone a nick name. It's weird."
"Yeah, I remember that. He called me 'Cuffs'. Real original. What's he call you?"
"He calls me 'Louisville Slugger' you know, because…."
Miles laughs, "Oh I get it. That's actually pretty funny."
"Glad someone thinks so. Anyway, my last class is Friday. He said I'll get a certificate and everything." She rolls her eyes again, clearly underwhelmed by the whole experience.
"Hey at least you didn't go to jail. You really do need to rein in that temper."
Charlie smirks, "Yeah, all right. I'll do that, just as soon as you rein in yours…"
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen." Miles smirks, "Bring your certificate when you come by for dinner on Sunday. We'll celebrate."
"How about we celebrate now? I saw chocolate cake on the dessert menu."
"My treat, I suppose?" he asks with a chuckle.
Charlie nods, "Oh all of this is your treat. Just like always."
Friday…
Charlie takes the bus to Anger Management class. She's not a huge fan of the bus, but until she gets enough money saved for a car, she depends on public transportation to get around. The bus stop is right in front of the high school and she climbs down and makes her way toward the entrance.
The halls are quiet and dim as she heads to the classroom where everyone will congregate tonight. Charlie is first to arrive. The room is medium sized. A teacher's desk sits in the front and faces rows of long tables. Behind each table are a handful of chairs.
She finds her usual seat in the back row and plops her backpack on the table in front of her chair. They aren't allowed to use any electronic devices during class, so Charlie usually whiles away the two hours by doodling in her notebook. She pulls it from her bag along with a couple ink pens and then says hello to the next person to enter.
"Sturgis" as Blanchard calls him, is a burly fellow with tattoos and a large handlebar moustache. Charlie doesn't know what he did to earn his place here, but he's always been nice to her. She says hello and he nods before taking a seat up front.
Next to arrive are the only other women in the class, both in their fifties. There's "Big Mama" (a large African American woman who always wears colorful housedresses) and "The Penguin" who dresses like a nun even though nobody is totally sure that she is one. Big Mama is a friendly lady, but the skinny nun isn't. Charlie exchanges silent nods with the two women before they find their seats on the opposite side of the room.
After that, the room fills quickly. There is always an interesting assortment of characters in attendance and tonight is no different. "He-Man" (a muscle bound gym rat) sits in front of Charlie while "Road Rage" (a mousy looking accountant who offered to do Charlie's taxes for free) takes his usual seat near Big Mama. In the front, opposite from Sturgis are two college aged boys ("Thing 1" and "Thing 2"). There are a few stragglers who wander in, but Charlie doesn't know them well enough to remember what Blanchard calls them.
Blanchard himself is running late, so Charlie leans back in her chair and closes her eyes, wishing she was anywhere else and very glad that this is her final night. When Blanchard does finally enter the room, he's chatting with someone new. Charlie opens her eyes slowly, and takes notice of the latest arrival.
"Oh, he's pretty." Charlie hears Big Mama say under her breath in appreciation. The Penguin even nods admiringly and Charlie agrees with them both.
This new guy is very easy on the eyes. He's somewhere on the other side of forty, with dirty blond curls and wicked blue eyes. He hasn't shaved in a while, and looks all the better for it. Wearing a battered leather jacket over a faded tee shirt and old jeans, he is the epitome of sex.
"Shit." Charlie mutters, feeling oddly flustered. He looks bored to tears as he scans the room. His gaze settles on Charlie and the bored expression morphs into one of bold interest.
"Hey Slugger, looks like you're gonna have some company." Big Mama whispers loudly to Charlie as the new guy makes his way to the back. He doesn't say anything, but sits down in the empty chair next to Charlie's.
Charlie isn't positive, but she thinks maybe she hears the Penguin mutter, "Lucky bitch."
Blanchard calls the class to order, introducing the newest member as "Vigilante Justice". Charlie wonders what his story is, and finds herself more intrigued than ever. He leans back comfortably in his chair, stretching long legs under the table. Charlie is struggling not to stare.
The hot new guy is evidently just as intrigued by Charlie, but he has no problem with staring. "Maybe this won't be so bad after all." He says quietly, his voice so low only she can hear. She meets his gaze and his blue eyes dance with mischief, and something else. Something hungry.
"Shit." She thinks again, tearing her gaze from his and focusing on the front of the room where Frank Blanchard has launched into his spiel. Tonight's topic of discussion is 'Out-of-control anger and how it hurts your relationships with others'. Charlie sighs. This is rehashing ground already covered. She picks up a pen and begins to doodle random shapes on the lined paper of her notebook.
Without warning, the Vigilante has picked up her other pen and motions for her notebook. She's not sure why he wants it, but she shrugs and pushes it his way. He writes something down and slides it back. His arm brushes hers and she shivers. He's now close enough that she can smell his scent of leather and soap. Damn. She reminds herself to focus as she looks at what he's written in her notebook.
Is he seriously going to talk for two hours?
She frowns, but takes the paper and writes back, No. Second half we watch a movie.
Fuck. He writes back.
She can't help herself. Not that kind of movie. Charlie chuckles quietly when she sees his smirk.
Too bad. That's the kind of movie I could get behind.
Charlie takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. She's not sure she can sit here for two hours if he's going to flirt the whole time. A woman can only take so much torture, and judging by how wet her panties have become in the last few minutes….flirtatious torture is something this guy is very skilled at.
They listen for a while to Blanchard talking about using words instead of fists. Charlie feels the Vigilante grow more and more agitated as the talking continues. Clearly he needs a distraction. She bites her lip for a moment, considering what to do next.
He seems to sense a change in her. He glances her way and grins. He picks up the pen and is writing again. What's your name?
She shakes her head. No real names. Blanchard's rule. You can call me Slugger.
He rolls his eyes at her but responds. Fine. So I guess you'll be calling me 'Vigilante Justice'?
Yep. What'd you do to get that name anyway?
What did YOU do to get here? He counters.
She doesn't write anything at first, not sure she really wants to tell this stranger anything at all. She looks at him though and he seems genuinely curious.
I found my boyfriend in bed with another girl.
And?
And maybe I had a baseball bat in my car.
He nods, understanding. Idiot
She scowls at him.
Not you, Slugger. The boyfriend. Clearly an idiot.
Charlie relaxes. She nods. You didn't answer me before… Why are you here?
He sits back in his chair and looks around the room for a moment as if collecting his thoughts. As he does this, he relaxes more and his right knee falls softly against Charlie's thigh. She feels a jolt of heat and her first instinct is to move away from his touch but she sees that he's watching her again, gauging her reaction to this new contact. She is suddenly reminded of a documentary she watched once on Animal Planet. It had shown lions stalking gazelles. Charlie feels a little shiver and her heartbeat ratchets up as his eyes bore into hers. Shit, this guy is all lion.
She doesn't move. A slow and sexy smile spreads across his face and he leans forward again to write. His knee stays put, pressing ever so lightly against her leg.
Drunk driver.
She leans in and writes quickly. You were driving drunk?
His smile disappears and he shakes his head no with a hard little jerk before turning back to the notebook. Got rear ended by one. Pissed me off, and I beat the hell out of the guy. People shouldn't drink and drive.
He shrugs. The message is clear. He's not sorry. Charlie gets it. She's not sorry either. Jason had deserved far worse than what she'd done to his precious Range Rover. She smiles just a little as she remembers slashing his tires before breaking out each and every window with her bat. She'd been bashing huge dents in the doors when he'd finally stormed out to confront her.
Yeah, she gets it.
They both listen to their instructor absently for a while. Blanchard occasionally throws a dirty joke into the mix and this always elicits an approving response from the room. It is after just such a joke that the Vigilante makes his next move. He's laughing at the crude joke when he shifts, moving his right foot from the floor to rest on his left knee. As he does this, his right hand moves to casually rest on the knee that now hovers above her leg. His eyes stay focused on the front of the room, but his fingers slowly move from his knee to her thigh.
Charlie's eyes go wide. Holy shit. This guy really has a nerve, but he also has the softest touch. She bites her lip to keep from purring. The pads of his fingers slide like silk over the denim on her leg. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye. He's totally aware of her scrutiny, and he is enjoying every moment of it. A mischievous smile tugs at his lips.
She doesn't move her leg. She likes the feel of his touch far too much to break contact, but she does lean forward and pick up her pen to write.
So you're a Man-whore…
He throws his head back and laughs loudly. The other members of the Anger Management class swivel in their seats to see what's caused this outburst.
Frank Blanchard makes his way back to their table. "Anything you two want to share with the class?" he asks, eying their close proximity with a knowing smirk.
"No, Sir." The Vigilante says, pulling his fingers back to rest on his knee once more. "We're all good here."
"Yeah, I just bet you are." Blanchard says with a wink before turning back to the front of the class.
Charlie is a little sad about the loss of his touch, but he's writing now. Not a man-whore. I know what I want. Is that so bad?
Not bad. Just unlikely that you'll get what you seem to want.
Are you sure?
I'm sure. Don't know you.
I'm new in town. I don't know much of anybody yet.
From where?
Philly. Lived there for a long time. You?
Chicago Girl all my life.
He looks her up and down. Thank you, Chicago.
She can't help but chuckle. He's all sincere and sexy as he looks her over. She can't deny she's tempted. He is so attractive. There is something about him that makes her want to rip his clothes off right here. She's fairly confident that she's never been tempted to do that before with anyone else. Internally she blames her recently mundane existence. It's been a while since anything remotely interesting happened in her life. The Vigilante is interesting, indeed.
You look like you're a little bored? Don't you want to shake things up a bit?
Weird. It's like he can read her mind.
Yeah, so? I've been bored in this class every week for six months. Have managed just fine so far without shaking things up...
The Vigilante pointedly looks around the room. He tries to hide a smile, but fails miserably before going back to the notebook. So none of these guys do it for you, huh? She looks around the room too, trying to evaluate the others with fresh eyes. It's true. The pickings here are slim – not that she's been looking.
Their scribbling is interrupted when Blanchard announces that its time for the class to take a break. Charlie and the sexy stranger both stand. She'd been sitting down when he arrived, and she can't help but stare as she follows him out of the room. He's taller than she had realized. His shoulders are wider. As she walks behind him from the room for their ten minute break, she watches his ass move under snug denim and she feels a tightening in her gut. Shit.
The group splits at the hallway. The guys head toward the men's room which is down the hall to the left, and the ladies walk the opposite way. Charlie is lost in thought until Big Mama and the Penguin begin walking on either side of her, matching her pace perfectly.
"Well, looks like you just hit the Anger Management jackpot, girl." Big Mama says with a suggestive smile.
"Yeah," agrees the Penguin, "He's smokin' hot."
Charlie looks back and forth between the two, and her gaze settles on the nun. "Are you supposed to say stuff like that?" she asks.
The Penguin shrugs. "It's a grey area."
They file into the bathroom and Charlie is the first to be done. She washes her hands quickly and is out the door, wanting to avoid any more awkward conversations with the two women. She walks past the rows of blue lockers that line the walls of the hallway. She's less than twenty feet from her destination when a strong arm reaches from a shadowy door way and she's pulled into an empty classroom with a flourish. It's the Vigilante of course, and he's grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
"What do you want?" she asks.
"Well, I don't want to talk." He says, pulling her close without effort. "We only have about five minutes."
"What do you think you can do in five minutes?" she asks as his face comes close.
"I'm gonna make you wish we had five hours instead of five minutes." He says with a grin, before covering her mouth with his.
Charlie is twenty-four years old and she is not innocent. She's has had her share of serious boyfriends and meaningless flings. If anyone were to ask, she'd say she's definitely been around the block.
But hell, the Vigilante clearly owns the whole damn block.
His lips are silky. His scruff is a perfect combination of rough and soft. His hands are everywhere all at once. She isn't planning to kiss him back. When he initiates it, she is ready to push him away but then…
Dear God, this man can kiss.
She melts into him without even realizing that she's doing it. His tongue slides smoothly through her parted lips and Charlie finds herself stretching up on her toes, yearning to get closer, doing everything in her power to deepen a kiss that is already shattering every pre-conceived notion about sexual attraction that she's ever known.
His hands are firmly grasping her ass, pulling her into his body even as his mouth moves from her lips to trail across her jaw and down the line of her throat. He bites lightly at her pulse point and Charlie buries her fingers in his unruly curls.
His mouth is on hers again and his tongue is thrusting and his cock is hard against her belly and Charlie is on fire. He pulls away with a grin, "Time's up."
"What?" Charlie's pupils are blown and she's swaying just a little.
The Vigilante wraps his arms around her, but this embrace is gentler. It's less about sex and more about comfort. "Time's up." He says again, his voice soft against her ear. "We have to go back to class."
She leaves his arms and steps toward the door on shaky feet, turning when she realizes he's not following, "You said we?"
"I'll be right behind ya." He says with a sheepish shrug, motioning down to the rather obvious bulge on display. "Just need a minute."
"Oh." Charlie chuckles, finally coming out of her kiss stupor. She nods. "All right then. See you in there."
Blanchard is setting up the movie – an honest to God reel to reel - when the Vigilante makes his way back to the seat next to Charlie. "You okay?" she asks.
"Yeah. You?"
"Fine." She doesn't sound fine though, and won't meet his eyes. The truth is she is frustrated. It's been a while since she had gotten that turned on, and to leave it all unfinished like they had, just feels wrong. She sighs and then scowls when she hears his soft laugh. "What's so funny?"
"Two things." He whispers.
"What's the first?"
He points across the room, "No way is that Penguin chick really a nun."
"Why's that?
He cocks one eye brow and grins, "Pretty sure she asked if she could lick me as I walked by just now."
Charlie can't help herself. His amusement is contagious, and she laughs with him. "Yeah, you might be right about her. What's the other thing that's so funny?"
"You." He leans in close, whispering in her ear, "You are funny. You think I'd leave you wanting release – needing it -and not give it to you?" His hand slides between Charlie's thighs, and she shudders, "Slugger, I take that kind of shit seriously. I always finish what I start."
"Oh." She says as his fingers begin to move, slow and sure.
Blanchard grumbles about decades old technology and then finally the movie starts. As the big grey countdown of numbers begins to flash on the screen, Frank dims the lights. "Shut up and pay attention." He calls out over the static of the soundtrack before settling into an old office chair off to the side of the room.
Under cover of darkness, the Vigilante does not waste any time. He's facing forward, seemingly watching the movie, but his fingers are paying attention elsewhere. He pops the button on her jeans and slowly slides down the zipper.
Charlie knows she should push him away. She should say no. She should, but then his fingers are finding their way inside her jeans, and moving down, down, down.
"Fuuuuuuck." Charlie whispers quietly as he begins to graze her clit with the tip of his finger.
He shifts his body a little, getting a better angle. Then he curls and plunges two fingers inside and she's so wet and hot and slippery and so clearly ready for him that he groans at the feel of her tight heat. She begins to grind slowly against his fingers as he strokes. She pivots her hips, allowing his fingers deeper access. He obliges readily, pumping slowly in and out. Now and then he tortures her clit with a calloused thumb.
Charlie bites her lip to hold back a scream as she looks around the room. When she's sure that nobody is paying them any attention, she leans back, sliding her ass forward so that he can push his fingers deeper. He loves the way she is responding. Even in this public place, surrounded by people – she is putty in his hands. Her pussy is drenched and he plunges his fingers in as deep as they'll go. She's writhing as quietly as she can, finally covering his hand with hers, adding pressure.
He feels her walls contracting around his fingers and hears a soft hiss as she comes with jerky little spasms. She melts into the chair, her legs splayed and his fingers still buried inside her sex. Charlie's head lolls back as he ever so slowly extricates his drenched digits from her heat. He looks at her then in the dimness of the room. Carefully – without ever losing eye contact – he licks each of the fingers he'd used to get her off.
"Holy hell." Charlie whispers, as he finishes cleaning his fingers with his tongue. She wants that tongue between her legs, stroking her clit and pushing inside. Charlie shakes her head. Shit. Her thighs are still shaky from what he just did to her and she's already daydreaming about more.
The movie comes to an end moments after Charlie finally gets around to fastening her jeans again.
The Vigilante leans in close, "So, was that okay?" he asks, his breath hot on her ear.
She nods slowly, and opens her mouth to speak. Frank Blanchard interrupts when he calls out, "Hey Louisville Slugger. Get up here." She glances at the Vigilante as she gathers her things and heads for the front of the class. Blanchard announces to the class that this was her last night and he wishes her well. He hands her a certificate of completion, and the class applauds. Blanchard tells them they are excused and everyone starts to leave.
She heads out first and the Vigilante is right behind her, but Blanchard calls him over. "Enjoy yourself tonight?" he asks with a smirk.
"Uh, well…it was fine, Frank."
"Just like old times, eh Monroe?" he chuckles. "Seemed weird without Miles around though. You two used to always get in trouble together."
Bass shrugs, "Give us time. I just moved back yesterday. My probation officer got me into your class at the last minute. Miles knows I'm here in Chicago, but we haven't met up yet. Going to see him Sunday."
Blanchard nods, "Well, even without Miles around, it seems that you've managed to make the most of the evening."
Bass looks at him curiously, "Huh?"
"Well, I've watched that movie a few times before, so when I start it up I always watch the class…you know, see if ya'all are paying attention..."
Bass looks away, a guilty smile playing at his lips, "And?"
"And you are one naughty boy, Monroe. A very naughty boy." Blanchard chortles to himself as he makes his way back to his desk.
"See you next week. I've got to catch her." Bass jogs toward the door and is gone.
"Next week." Blanchard agrees with a wide grin.
Bass sees her jogging across the parking lot as soon as he exits the front doors. "Hey Slugger! Wait up." He yells.
She turns and grins but doesn't stop, "Gotta be somewhere. Sorry." She smiles as she climbs up into a waiting city bus. The doors shut and the bus begins to pull away just as Bass gets to the curb. He sees she's found a seat and is watching him through a window.
"What is your name?" he yells as the bus pulls away. She opens the window and pokes her head out. The sound of her voice is swallowed by the roar of the bus's diesel engine.
"Shit." He mutters. "Shit." Bass runs his hands through his hair, frustrated beyond belief. He watches the bus drive away until it turns down a distant street. Dejected, he looks at his boots, kicking at a small pebble. This sucks. Head down, he walks slowly toward where his car is parked. He knows it's not logical, but there's something about that girl that he likes. Something he likes a lot. He wonders if he'll see her again….
No. Not if. When.
He gets in his car and starts the engine. A slow smile spreads as he drives out of the parking lot. Blanchard. Blanchard will know Slugger's real name and Bass will get it out of him if it's the last thing he ever does.
Sunday….
Miles is standing at his kitchen counter, attempting to cut vegetables. He's not a great cook, but is trying to learn. Nora says he's too old to live off of takeout, and Miles knows she's right. She's out of town on business, but he thinks dinner with family and friends will give him a chance to try the recipe he'd found on-line. When he hears the incessant knocking, he smiles. Company has arrived.
He brushes his hands off on a small towel before making his way to the front door. Opening it with a smirk, Miles is ready to welcome his best friend when Bass pushes past him without saying a word.
"Aren't you going to say hello? Nice to see you? Anything?"
Bass grunts noncommittally.
"You look like shit." Miles points out the obvious.
"Shut it." Bass growls, going straight for the fridge. He pulls out a beer and plops down at the kitchen table before taking a drink.
Miles sits down opposite him and waits. When Bass still doesn't speak, Miles groans, "Spill it. What's wrong?"
"It's nothing."
"What's nothing's name?" Miles asks with a knowing smile.
Charlie walks the ten blocks to Miles's place. She had tried to beg off, not at all in the mood to celebrate anything, but Miles had insisted. She walks up his steps and lets herself in; using the spare key he'd given her long ago.
As she walks down the hall toward the kitchen she slows. Miles is talking with someone inside. She can't place the other voice but it sounds familiar. Charlie pauses without making her presence known, listening to the conversation inside the kitchen.
"My niece and nephew will be by later too. Maybe they'll get your mind off of this mystery girl."
"Doubt a game of Candyland is going to take the edge off, Miles."
"They're not little kids anymore, you fuckhead."
"Whatever." The other voice says, "I think I'll just go."
Charlie can hear a kitchen chair scraping across the floor. She's curious and decides this is her cue. She walks into the kitchen and stops short, the color draining from her face. "Vigilante?" she whispers.
"Slugger." He replies, his eyes wide. He sits down heavily, as if his legs can no longer support his weight.
Miles looks back and forth. "You guys know each other?" He looks completely confused.
Charlie nods slowly, "We've met."
Miles's phone rings then, and he answers it, "Danny, where the hell are you? Charlie is here and so is my friend Bass. He just moved back from… Oh, okay….." Miles wanders to the far side of the kitchen to finish his phone conversation.
Bass finally shakes some of the shock, "You're Charlie? Miles's Charlie?"
Charlie's eyebrows go high, "Yeah, and you're Bass. Shit. I sort of remember you."
He stands and walks her way, "You sort of remember me? Jesus, I'd hope so. I had my fingers inside your – "
She shakes her head, flustered, "No, I mean from when I was little. You and Miles babysat for us once. You read me Cinderella and painted my fingernails purple."
This seems to throw Bass off track just a bit, "Fuck. That isn't creepy at all."
Charlie smiles and tilts her head to the side, "It wasn't creepy. It was nice." She glances over at Miles to make sure he's still deep in his conversation. "The thing you did the other day… that wasn't bad either."
He's standing as close as he feels he can with Miles in the room. All he wants to do is throw her over his shoulder and take her somewhere else. "Glad you approved, but why did you leave so quickly afterwards? I was kind of hoping that was just the beginning…"
"I had to go to work. I knew there wouldn't be another bus for a while and I didn't want to be late."
He nods, understanding. "I tried to get Blanchard to tell me your name. I probably called him fifty times. He just laughed every time I asked. I guess now I know why."
"Well, I'm glad you found me."
"Yeah? Me too." he's standing so close that she can feel heat radiating off his skin. "So tonight, when we're done with this stupid dinner, are you going to take a bus home?"
"No. I walked."
"I have a car. Maybe I could give you a ride?" he grins at his own joke, the skin around his blue eyes crinkling.
Charlie feels a warm wetness pooling in her panties. She can't disguise the flirtatious smile that appears on her face. "A ride, huh? "Maybe..."
Before Bass can respond, they are interrupted. Miles stomps over then and doesn't even seem to notice when Charlie and Bass separate quickly. "Your brother is a dick."
"What did Danny do now?"
"Well, he got in a bar fight. Kicked the shit out of some guy. He's in lock-up. Lucky for him it was in my precinct." Miles is shrugging into his jacket. 'CPD' is displayed across the back in big reflective letters. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Gotta go take care of this bullshit."
Before he leaves, Miles glances back, "Stay here. You can finish the recipe and start dinner without me." He glances from his niece to his best friend. Something is weird here, but his mind is on Danny and he doesn't have time to speculate. "Keep the stupid to a minimum." He says before closing the door behind him.
The door closes with a loud click. Bass and Charlie both stand perfectly still for all of five seconds, watching the door. As soon as Charlie is confident that Miles isn't just going to rush back in, she looks at Bass and sees the hunger in his eyes. Damn. She licks her lips nervously and he's on her.
Bass's mouth is searching and exploring, his lips are soft and sure. He grasps at her ass, pulling her close. They stumble into the kitchen counter and neither cares. Her body is responding in every way, but her brain is firing off flashes of concern. "This is probably wrong." She whispers against a stubble covered cheek.
"Don't care." He replies roughly, before lowering his mouth to kiss and lick at her throat.
Charlie is just as crazed with lust as Bass is. She surrenders the last shred of uncertainty as he picks her up and carries her into Miles's living room without ever pulling his lips from her skin. She moans as he sits her on her feet in front of Miles's favorite La-Z-Boy.
They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, chests heaving. "Clothes." He says, before grabbing the hem of her sweater and yanking it over her head. She helps him. Together they are tearing and pulling at garments – both his and hers – until they are naked. He looks her up and down, savoring the view, memorizing the way she looks in only her skin, anticipating what is sure to come next. She does the same, appreciating every inch of him with her eyes. He's occupied almost every thought since their unusual meeting in Anger Management class, but even her very active imagination had done little to prepare her for the naked Vigilante.
"Holy shit." She says in awe, reaching out to stroke her finger tips across his pecs, teasing the tiny nipples with her nails. She trails down to his impressive cock, grasping it firmly. He growls and once again she is reminded of a lion stalking his prey. He removes her hand carefully, and erases the space between them. Bass pushes her down onto the recliner. In one smooth movement, he's keeling before her, hooking his hands under her knees to spread her wide.
Charlie doesn't even have a chance to question what is happening – not that she would. His face is already buried between her legs and as his tongue flicks and strokes her clit, she arches against him, begging for more. And more is what he gives her. This man eats pussy like a champ. He sucks and licks and fucks her with his tongue. He latches onto her clit and sucks greedily as he plunges his fingers deep inside her core.
Charlie comes undone, writhing as her orgasm takes her to a place she's never been before. Her body shakes with the aftershocks as she sinks into the chair. Bass grabs her hand, which is lying limply against an arm rest. He pulls her forward. "Come down here with me." His voice is rough and low. His eyes are hot.
She obeys, sliding over the edge of the chair to settle on her knees in front of him. They are kissing again. Tasting herself on his lips is strangely erotic. She can hardly believe it, but she feels tension building once more in her core. She wants more of him.
Bass senses that she's ready and he places his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face the chair. She understands, resting her chest against the seat of the chair, her knees spread so that he has easy access. Bass uses his fingers to test that she's ready. When he's satisfied, he leans forward, stroking her back with one hand as he lines up his dick with the other. He sinks in slowly, relishing the tight heat that sheathes his cock like a second skin. He can feel her body stretching to take him fully. He takes his time, slowly working his dick deeper into Charlie's pussy.
He bottoms out, his breathing labored with the effort of holding back. She whispers something that he doesn't catch. "What did you say Charlie?"
"Fuck me. Please fuck me."
And so he does. He pulls out so that only the head of his thick penis is buried inside her pussy and then slams forward. Charlie cries out, but he hears only pleasure in the cry, so he pulls almost all the way out again, only to thrust forward. The pace quickens and his fingers dig into her hips as he pounds into her core.
He reaches around, and begins to stroke her clit with firm strokes. Charlie comes again, and as her walls begin to spasm, Bass pulls out. His come spurts across her ass and lower back. He pulls her up flush, wrapping his arms around her waist and snuggling into her shoulder. "You are even more amazing than I'd thought you would be." He whispers.
She starts to say something when the front door opens without warning. Miles walks in with Danny. They are both laughing, clearly having worked through whatever issues might have existed earlier. They stop short at sight of the two – very naked – people in Miles's living room.
Danny is the first to speak. His voice is low and scratchy. His eyes are wide. "So, I guess I'm not the least responsible member of the family anymore, eh Miles?"
Miles watches, mouth open in disbelief, as Charlie and Bass scramble to get their clothes on. Bass yanks on jeans and takes a few steps forward. Miles hasn't said anything yet, but his expression is grim. He stares at Bass, "You have got to be kidding me! Charlie is my niece, you sick fuck!" he yells, stalking closer to his best friend.
"We got a little carried away." Bass says.
"Thought you'd be gone longer." Charlie mumbles.
"How in the hell did you two….. I mean, what…." Miles runs a hand along his jaw, clearly disturbed.
Danny steps closer, "You see Miles, when a man and woman are attracted to each other – "
Miles turns to his nephew, "Do you want to go back to jail? Or worse? Maybe I'll call your Mom and tell her I just bailed you out again?"
Danny shakes his head and walks to a corner to watch the show quietly. Jail is no fun, but his Mom is way scarier.
Charlie has pulled her clothes back on and moves to stand beside Danny while the two old friends square off. Miles glances behind Bass to his chair – his beloved recliner – his refuge after a long hard day at work. Instead of the usual feeling of relief, the chair now fills him with anxiety as images of Charlie and Bass and what they'd just been doing, fill his head.
Miles groans, "You just had to use my chair, didn't you? Wasn't enough to defile my flesh and blood. You had to ruin Bertha for me."
"Bertha?" Bass looks at Miles blankly. He has no idea what this is about.
Danny is laughing now. Even Charlie is trying to hide a smile. "His stupid chair." Danny says. "Bertha is his chair."
Bass smirks a little and this is the final straw for Miles Matheson.
"You prick." Miles lunges at Bass and all hell breaks loose. These two men have fought in one way or the other for over thirty years, and they are both very good at beating the shit out of each other. Equally matched, they punch and jab and yell obscenities.
"Should we try to break it up?" Danny asks dubiously as a lamp shatters against the far wall.
Charlie bites her lip. The truth is that she likes this. She likes it a lot more than she should.
"Ewww, you're getting all turned on." Danny scrunches his nose at his sister. "That's gross."
She watches the way Bass punches and moves. He fights like he fucks – his attention solely on the task at hand. Charlie shivers a little as Bass delivers a brutal hit to Miles's head. Miles staggers back, but quickly regains his balance and charges, hitting Bass in the gut at full force. Both men go down.
"Aw shit." Bass groans, clutching his leg. There is now a long tear in his jeans and a jagged cut in the flesh below.
Miles stands and looks down, suddenly realizing there is a lot more blood around his best friend than there should be. "What the hell?" he asks, wondering what he'd done to cause Bass to bleed like that.
Charlie is there in an instant, investigating the new and gaping wound in Bass's thigh. "The broken lamp. You knocked him into the broken lamp. He's going to need stitches." Charlie sounds calm but her eyes are wide with worry. "A lot of stitches."
Miles is already running into the kitchen to grab some towels to help stop the bleeding when there is a loud pounding on the door.
Danny answers it with a pleasant smile, "Oh hello officers. What can we do for you?"
"We received a noise complaint. Several actually. The neighbors thought someone was being murdered."
"Please, do come in." Danny's smile widens. For once he's not the one getting into trouble. A guy could get used to this.
"Ah, hell." Miles mutters as he sees two of his fellow policemen in his living room. One is talking on his phone in the corner. The other is helping Bass. Miles nods to the guy kneeling next to Bass, "Hey Baker, is there any chance we can keep this quiet?"
The one whose name badge says Sgt. Baker shakes his head, "No way. Thompson is calling the fucking paramedics right now. Gonna be desk duty again for you for sure." He turns then to Bass, "Nice to see you again, Monroe. When do you start?"
Bass grimaces, "Well, before this happened…I was supposed to start next week."
The other officer is back, and he frowns, "So you're the new guy that Miles told us about? Aren't you also going to be on desk duty for a while?"
"Yeah, got into some trouble before I moved here. Judge reduced my punishment to Anger Management classes, and my Commissioner took me off active duty till the classes are over."
Baker smirks as he puts pressure on the home-made tourniquet he's fastened around Bass's leg. "Seems like those classes are doing wonders."
"Wait." Charlie says, looking back and forth between Bass and Miles. "You're a cop too?"
Bass nods, "Yeah."
"But you said you are new in town. How do you know him?" She points to Baker.
Bass shrugs, "The three of us went to Basic Training together."
Baker grins, "You know, speaking of Basic, if you are taking that class locally, you're gonna see a familiar face there."
"Yeah, had my first class on Friday. Frank hasn't changed at all." Bass says. He's pale, but he manages to smile.
"Who's Frank?" Charlie asks. "You mean Blanchard?"
"Yeah, Blanchard. He was our drill sergeant when we first signed up. Still a prick after all these years." Miles adds.
"Why didn't you say anything?" She asks Miles, "I was in his class for months. You never told me you knew him like that." Charlie isn't angry, but she's curious.
"Didn't figure it mattered." Miles mutters.
"Who are you, anyway?" Baker asks Charlie, "Wait, are you the niece?"
She nods.
Baker looks from Charlie to Miles to Bass. Charlie is sitting next to Bass on the floor. She's stroking his shoulder comfortingly. Miles is trying to ignore the fact that she's touching him at all. Baker starts to laugh, "Suddenly everything is so fucking clear."
"Shut it." Bass and Miles say in unison.
Two Weeks Later – Friday Night...
Bass is still limping a bit. In the end the cut in his leg had required twenty-seven stitches. He nods to Blanchard as he makes his way to the back of the room. Big Mama whistles and the Penguin reaches out, smacking his ass as he passes. The two women giggle like they are teenagers.
Bass just shakes his head, and finds his seat. "Hey." He says to the person in the chair next to his.
"Hey." Miles Matheson says with a frown. "He isn't really going to talk for two hours is he?"
Bass chuckles, "Second half is a movie. You'll hate it."
Bass feels his phone vibrate and pulls it from his pocket. It's a text from Charlie.
Be nice to him. He's still pretty grouchy about us.
Bass types into his phone quickly. Yeah, I noticed.
Any chance you're going to stop by after class?
No doubt about it. Be naked.
Oh that can be arranged. And also… I have a surprise for you.
I do love surprises – especially naked ones.
Then you're in luck…
Bass grins at his phone and types quickly as Blanchard comes in the room. Can't wait! Class starting though. Gotta go.
He turns off his phone and shoves it in a pocket.
"That was her wasn't it? Jesus are you guys dating now, like real people?" Miles's brow is creased. He's not happy about how everything is changing.
"Well, first of all, don't be a dick. We ARE real people, and secondly…yeah. We're dating. I really like her." Bass grins at his brother, and it is the kind of charming grin that can even soften Miles's anger. Bass is truly happy, and it's been a long time since that was true.
"And I guess she likes you too…"
"She seems to, yeah." Bass laughs.
"Well shit. I suppose this is why she wanted the chair."
"What chair?" Bass asks. He has no idea what Miles is talking about.
"Bertha." Miles says her name sadly. "I had to get rid of her. Couldn't even look at her without thinking about walking in on you guys…" he shudders. "I got a new chair delivered this morning. Was going to have the old girl hauled to the dump. Charlie said she wanted it."
Bass leans back and smiles happily, "She wanted the chair? That chair?" He sighs, hoping this class will pass quickly. He wants nothing more than to skip out and see what sort of surprise Charlie has waiting for him.
Miles nods.
"Interesting." Bass says, his eyes sparkling. He knows one thing for sure. Anything she comes up with will be exactly what he wants. He knows this because Charlie is exactly who he wants and he can hardly wait to see her later tonight, and if he's honest…every night, probably forever.
Miles watches his friend as Bass is lost in thought. It's clear that in spite of Miles's best intentions, these two really do have something special. Miles just wishes it didn't involve his old chair. "Poor Bertha." he grumbles, shaking his head as Frank Blanchard calls the class to order.
End
A/N I've never been to anger management class, and I have no clue what the appropriate punishment for a cop is if he gets in a fight. I just had the idea and ran with it. Hope you enjoyed. For those interested… I'm working on the next chap of Open Mic next.