A/N: The following story begins just days after the S2 finale concludes…but ignores the Nano storyline completely, so don't worry yourself with Idaho for this one. It will be short-ish… probably three/four chaps total.
Part 1: Isn't it ironic, don't ya think?
Bass has been drinking in a seedy little bar with a few of the guys. Miles had been with them earlier but had left when Rachel came and told him he'd been out long enough, damn it. Bass just shakes his head, not bothering to say anything about how whipped his best friend has become. What would be the point? The rest of the guys they'd been drinking with had all left not long after Miles, so Bass is finishing up what he assumes will be his last one before heading home.
He is surprised to say the least when an obviously drunk Charlie sits down next to him at the bar, a big grin on her face, "Hey Monroe." She says with a laugh, teetering on the barstool.
"Damn Charlie. Looks like you've been drinking…a lot." Bass can't help but smile. Drunk Charlie can be very entertaining, though it has been a while since he's witnessed her like this. "You celebrating something?"
"Yep." She waves to the bartender. "Bring us a round of whatever he's drinking." The bartender nods and then she turns back to Bass. "I got a new place. I'm celebrating finally being on my own. I love Miles and my Mom, but they are driving me crazy. I had to leave and they needed some space." Her drink appears and she takes a deep gulp, wrinkling her nose at the intensity of the liquor. Then she's grinning again.
Bass can't help but notice how beautiful she is when she smiles. This isn't the first time he's noticed of course. He shakes off the thought – just as he always does, lifting his glass in a toast, "To Charlie getting her own place." He says with a smirk, "Look who's all grown up."
Charlie punches his shoulder playfully. She tries to look like she's mad, but is far too drunk to make it work, and her balance isn't great either. Instead of landing a blow, she tilts too far and falls into him – almost knocking them both to the floor. "You have no idea how grown up I am Monroe." She whispers as Bass wraps strong arms around her back, steadying her until she can stand on her own.
"Whoa girl. Maybe it's time you called it a night?" he chooses to ignore her comment, not really sure what to make of it. She's drunk, not interested. He knows this.
"No way." She says with a chuckle. "I'm a Matheson. I'm not ready to stop yet. I drink with the fishes!" she exclaims.
He shakes his head, laughing, "You mean you drink LIKE a fish, Charlie – not with the fish."
"Whatever. I'm not done." With that, she downs the rest of her drink and motions for a refill.
Bass shakes his head. "Fine. You're not done. We should at least get a booth. You're gonna fall off that barstool again and break your head open."
Charlie starts to argue, but the room is spinning and she decides he's right. "A booth." She agrees. Bass helps her to the far corner of the bar. Each table is topped with a few flickering candles. The faint glow doesn't make much of a dent in the shadows, but at least they can see each other's faces and the drinks in their hands.
"So, where's the new place?" he asks her casually, trying to ignore the fact that she slid in beside him instead of across.
"It's an apartment over the diner on King Street. It's really small, but it's big enough for me and I love it." She sighs happily and Bass finds himself mesmerized by her enthusiasm, her youth, and the fact that she has without warning, placed a hand on his thigh.
At first he assumes it's a mistake or a fluke or maybe she's having some sort of seizure. Sure, they've flirted. They've shared some looks so intense as to make him hard. There have even been touches before: him helping her out of a boat, her passing behind him a little too closely….. but never anything intentional like this.
Bass closes his eyes for just a second, taking mental inventory. He's drunk, but not so drunk that he would be hallucinating. He's tired, but not asleep so this isn't a dream. He slowly opens his eyes. Her hand is still there. He's been attracted to Charlie for a long time. When did it begin? He's not sure. That school probably. If not then, shortly after….but never for one second in all the time since has he thought she might ever return his interest. She doesn't. She can't. She's just drunk. That's all.
But now her hand is moving. Sweet Jesus.
"Uh Charlie?" finally he looks at her, his eyes wide, his voice a croak. "What are you doing?"
"Geez Monroe. Thought you were a ladies' man. Never had a woman reach under a table to touch your thigh before?" as she speaks her hand goes higher still.
"Charlie, your hand isn't on my thigh anymore…and I think you know that." His fists are clenching and unclenching on the table. He is suddenly stone cold sober, hard as a rock, and beyond conflicted. What the hell is happening here? He wants nothing more than to touch her, but he's learned his lesson. If something seems too good to be true, it is.
This is certainly too good to be true.
She smiles, leaning in closer. "Well, I guess you're right. That's NOT your thigh after all… my mistake." But she doesn't move her hand.
Bass takes a shaky breath, and meets her gaze. "You're drunk."
"That's true."
"You're drunk," he repeats, "And you need to stop this, because Drunk Charlie is writing checks Sober Charlie will not want to cash."
She giggles and leans in close, "I have no idea what that means, but Sober Charlie isn't here tonight. Let's not worry about her."
He pulls away, "As tempting as this is," he pauses, "whatever this is… Sober Charlie is important to me. You need some coffee and a good night's sleep." He moves her hand so that it rests on the thin strip of unoccupied bench between them. "We can talk about this tomorrow."
Charlie sighs, "It won't work. When I'm drunk I find ways to forgive you and forget about things, but when I'm not drunk…that stuff gets in the way of what I feel." She looks at him sadly.
Bass shakes his head, "If you ever work that out, let me know and we'll talk. Until then, you need to sober up. I'll walk you to your place." He sounds tired. This night has gone all sideways. He has no idea what to make of Charlie's bizarre behavior. No way is she really interested in him. Bass had always figured the flirting she had done was all meant as a joke on him to begin with.
Maybe this is a joke too. He frowns at her, but notes that she truly looks sad. "Okay, I give up. What can you not forgive me for when you're sober that doesn't bother you when you're drunk?"
"Danny and my Dad." She isn't meeting his eyes now. Instead she's staring at the table.
Bass runs a hand through his hair and leans back. He closes his eyes again and lets out a long defeated breath, "Right."
She sighs, "In my head, I know it was Neville who killed my Dad and that you wanted him alive. And in my head I know that Danny shouldn't have jumped in like he did. He wasn't a soldier."
"But?"
"But my heart…at least when I'm sober… can't get past the fact that your militia wanted my Dad, and if they hadn't come for him Neville wouldn't have been there. And I can't get past the fact that it was your helicopter that blew my brother away."
Bass gently pushes at Charlie, nudging her to exit the booth. She does, and he follows. "I'll walk you home." He says.
"What, you aren't going to argue with me?"
"Why would I argue? I blame me too, and for a lot more than your Dad and brother. I'm sorry, but I don't know what else I can do. I've tried to change. Hell, I think that I HAVE changed, but I can't undo the past." Bass rubs a hand along his bearded chin. "So I give up Charlie. Not that it matters. This little thing tonight wasn't really you anyway. You admitted it. You're drunk and not thinking straight."
"But that's the problem." She looks up at him now. "Do you know why I got drunk tonight?"
"You said you were celebrating?"
"That's not really it." I was sitting in my new apartment on my new bed looking around and feeling lonely I guess. I had this bottle of whiskey I had grabbed from Miles's stash when I was packing my stuff. I was drinking it and I started to think…."
"Think about what, Charlie?" he holds the door for her as they leave the bar.
"You. I was thinking about you. I know we haven't talked much lately, and I know you and my Mom have some weird hate-fest going on and that things between you and Miles are strained sometimes, but I was thinking about you. Thinking about how you came through for us with Davis. Thinking about how upset I was when Texas killed you. Thinking about watching you fight in New Vegas…"
"That's a lot of thinking."
She continues, "I was thinking about how I feel when I'm with you. And how sometimes you look at me in a way that makes me think that maybe you think about me too. I was thinking about how much I'd like to get to know you better..."
They are on the street now, walking side by side without touching. They walk for a while before Bass responds. "Sometimes you just have to bottle up those kinds of feelings because there's no point. I should know. Been doing it for months." He kicks absently at a small rock and it goes sailing.
She stops. "What do you mean?"
He stops too, facing her, "You're right. You aren't the only one who feels something Charlie. You aren't the only one who wonders about what could be, but we both know nothing can ever come of it. Obviously, I think you are an amazing girl. Under different circumstance, maybe we could have something…but that's not going to happen." He starts walking again. She follows.
"Bass, stop."
He does as she asks but won't turn. "What?"
"I'm sorry." She moves behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have sat so close or…. Or anything."
He shrugs and turns to face her. The moonlight is soft and Bass can't stop himself from looking at her mouth. Her lips are so soft and so close. "It's okay. Charlie. Don't worry about it."
"Bass, I'm still kind of drunk." Her voice is nothing but a whisper, and she takes a step closer.
"Yeah?" He doesn't move. He doesn't breathe.
"Mmmm yeah," Charlie licks her lips then and Bass has to use every ounce of self control he has not to pull her close and kiss her. "I'm still kind of drunk," she continues, her hand now on his chest, "and right now I am not mad at you for any reason at all." Her hand moves, stroking the muscles of his chest through the fabric of his shirt.
Bass looks away, trying to collect his thoughts. "You gotta stop this."
"Bass, look at me." Charlie is in his space now. She's too close. Much too close. He knows he shouldn't look.
He looks.
Charlie may be drunk, but she's also determined. Leaning up on her toes, grasping his jacket with both hands, she pulls Bass to her. Chest to chest, Charlie presses her lips to his. He isn't going to kiss her back. He's not.
He kisses her back.
Bass slides his hands around her waist, feeling the warmth of her flesh through her flimsy tank top. He pulls her closer as their mouths meet. He tells himself he's not going to escalate this. He's going to keep it simple. No tongue.
But then he can't help himself. There is tongue. Lots of it – his and hers and they are tasting and exploring and learning each other. His hands are roaming and so are hers. He knows he should put a stop to this. He should push her away. He should say it's a mistake.
But it doesn't feel like a mistake.
They break apart only when they hear the sound of a shotgun being cocked nearby.
The woman holding the gun on them is young, maybe Charie's age… maybe younger. "Look at you, making out in the street like the dirty whore you clearly are." Shotgun Girl's eyes flash with something sinister. Bass steps in front of Charlie, instinctively moving to protect her.
Charlie nudges Bass with a frown, "Friend of yours?" she asks.
"Never saw her before in my life." Bass says. "I figured she was talking to you."
"He's right Charlie. I'm here for you." Shotgun Girl lifts her weapon.
"What's this about?" Bass asks, hoping to stall the crazy girl. He needs to get that gun away from her. At this range, if she shoots – they are both very dead.
"Yeah, I don't even know you." Charlie is suddenly quite sober. Sober and very scared.
"You want to know what this is about?" Shotgun Girl is angry. "That's easy. I watched you slash my brother's throat when you assholes attacked our camp a couple weeks ago."
"Oh shit." Bass says.
"No." Charlie is shaking her head, "You weren't at that camp. I would remember."
"I was there. I was back in the corner of the tent on a cot. I didn't feel well. My brother had gotten permission to leave his training to come check on me. When all the shooting started, he told me to hide. I pulled the blanket over my head and he was heading out to see if he could help when you and some guy came in. I laid there helpless while you killed him. I'm not helpless anymore."
"I didn't know you were there." Charlie says, her voice faltering. "We needed to stop the Patriots. What they were doing at that camp was terrible. We were trying to put a stop to that."
"Well you did stop it, but you also ruined my life. You destroyed my family. You took my brother from me, and…" Shotgun Girl chokes on a sob, "he never even got to meet his baby."
"You have got to be kidding me." Bass mutters.
"What?" Charlie is stunned. Her mind is spinning.
"His wife Sadie was pregnant when he died. Their baby was born yesterday – a sweet little girl." Shotgun Girl tries to blink away tears. "My niece will never know her daddy, thanks to you, Bitch."
"Oh shit." Bass says.
Shotgun Girl doesn't want to talk anymore; she begins to squeeze the trigger. A noise down the street distracts her. It's just a split second, but it gives Bass the opening he needs. He shoves the gun up just as it goes off, shooting into the sky. Shotgun Girl is pissed and she growls at him, trying to get a hand hold on the gun again. Bass is too strong. She doesn't have a chance, and realizes it quickly.
By the time a Willoughby deputy runs up, Bass has Shotgun Girl face down on the ground. Her gun is lying off to one side out of reach. She's pinned but she's still yelling at Charlie, "You ruined my family. Benji was my brother and my best friend. He was going to be a Dad. You killed him. Now Benji is gone. He's GONE!" Shotgun Girl is sobbing.
Charlie sits down on the ground hard, her legs buckling beneath her. "His name was Benji?" she asks in a whisper.
"Oh shit." Bass says.
