So this is for the 2014 Very Charloe Christmas Fan Fic Gift Exchange.

Driver Picks The Music, this is for you. This is very loosely based on the Dan Fogelberg song Same Old Lang Syne which always sees a lot of radio play during this time of the year. If you don't know it, check it out. It's a beautiful song. Anyway, Driver, hope you enjoy. And a very merry Christmas to you.

I own nothing of Revolution.


Met my old lover in the grocery store

The snow was falling Christmas Eve - Same Old Lang Syne - Dan Fogelberg


Bass had no idea what he was doing here.

What had ever possessed him to take a job in Tennessee in the first place? After all this time, why put himself right back into the path of the Mathesons? Because even after all these years, he found himself unable to resist that path. He missed the hell out of Miles. And Charlie...well, if he was lucky maybe he wouldn't even have to see her. It was possible she had moved away in the last five years. She and her...her husband.

As he walked, his eyes scanned the small shops lining the main street of Franklin, Tennessee, the town meant to be his new home. Less than thirty miles outside of Nashville, it had become the easternmost garrison of the Texas Republic, run by none other than Miles Matheson. As with most large cities after the Blackout, Nashville itself had become a virtual wasteland of broken and empty buildings. But with its quaint little streets, Franklin appeared virtually untouched by the Blackout. Tall streetlamps still lined the road, except now they were lit by flame and kerosene, not the electric lights of the past.

As soon as Blanchard offered him the job of Miles's second in command, he leapt at it. For the first few years that he was on his own in Texas, he tried to deny that he needed any sort of companionship. But that was so far from the truth. With Connor gone, followed by Miles and...her, he found himself growing increasingly lonely. So he took the only option left to get back to what remained of his family. Maybe they would never be friends the way they were, but having half of Miles was better than sitting alone every night in Willoughby. He wasn't even sure if Miles knew he was the one to take the job yet. Wouldn't that be one heck of a surprise?

Still, he'd packed and taken off so quickly that he had no place to call home yet; finding a house was going to be top priority, but with it being Christmas Eve and all, he was going to have to make do with the local inn for the next few days. But he needed some supplies first.

Spotting a small general store up ahead, he jogged over to it, trying to avoid a few of the puddles in the street. The snow was still falling heavily. It had been a wintery mix of snow and rain for the last 30 miles of his trip, and he silently thanked Blanchard for making the expansion of the train system one of his first acts as the newly re-installed President of Texas. Six years later, the train had once again made travel through the states a bit easier. Imagine if he'd had to spend the cold, damp days on horseback. He was mildly wet just walking from the station to the little store.

Pulling open the door, the smell of apples and spice assaulted his senses, the scent enough to send him back to Christmases of the past; to his mother making homemade pie in her kitchen in Jasper. No, he had enough old demons to face in the next week or two; he didn't need to add the voices of his dead to the line-up.

"Hello, there," the shopkeeper greeted him as he entered. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Bass responded, although it wasn't out of any real sentiment. It was just one of those perfunctory gestures that one did out of habit. He was so far from being in the Christmas spirit as it was.

"We're closing soon."

"No problem. Only need a few things." He moved past the counter to a shelf filled with dried meats and fruits. Since his Christmas was going to be spent in a hotel, he figured dinner was going to be up to him to provide. He strolled down the aisle, barely noticing the woman at the end of it until he was almost on top of her. Her back was to him as she studied a few bags of grain on the shelf. He glanced up, taking a quick measure of her...and time simply stopped.

It was Charlie. Even without seeing her face, he knew it was her. He knew by the way his heart began to pound in his chest and the way all the moisture in his mouth dried up. He'd been hoping to avoid her completely, although he began to suspect that was just a lie he'd told himself, and here he ended up walking into the same store as her. The universe really did hate him.

Before he could think clearly, or help himself, his hand reached forward and he lightly touched her arm. Startled, she turned to him. Had she become so much of a city dweller that someone could sneak up on her now? He hated the thought that she had changed, that she was no longer his Charlie.

Her eyes widened when she realized it was him. "Bass..."

"Yeah..." What else could he possibly say?

"Oh, Bass." She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Almost of their own volition, his arms closed around her. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled the scent he had missed more than just about any other in his life.

He hadn't expected this response from her; he'd imagined yelling and screaming and possibly him running for cover. But five years had passed. Charlie was now 28; maybe she'd outgrown her volatile temper. He held her for another moment, then swallowed thickly and pulled away. "Hey, Charlie."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes filled with pleasant surprise.

"I, uh...I live here now. I mean, I'm moving here."

"You are?"

"Well, don't tell Miles, but I'm his new assistant." He figured as long as she was living in Franklin, she still had day to day contact with her uncle.

"You're the one that took the job?" she asked.

"Yeah, I needed a change." He needed his family, but there was no way he was telling her that. Two minutes with Charlie was enough to put every defensive wall he had right back up.

"Well, that's good. Miles will be happy."

"Miles will be happy?" Bass cocked an eyebrow. "For some reason, I figured Miles would kick my ass."

She laughed. "Well, that would just be for show. He's missed you, Bass."

He wanted to ask if anyone else had, but he wasn't that much of a masochist. "Yeah, well, we'll see what happens after Christmas. Once he gets the official word from Blanchard."

"You should stop over and see him tomorrow."

Bass scoffed. "Oh, yeah. Interrupt Christmas dinner...sure Rachel would just love that."

"She's mellowed a little bit."

"Has she?" That surprised the heck out of him. If Rachel Matheson had managed to unwind her tightly strung cord, he supposed anything was possible.

"Well, sort of. She's found less to gripe about here in Tennessee," Charlie explained.

Yeah, he wasn't around anymore. That had to make Rachel ecstatic. But a calmer Rachel probably also made Charlie's life a little easier too. "Seems all you guys are happy."

Her smile faltered for a second but reappeared before he had time to examine what that meant. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Even if she offered, there was no way he would ever stay at the house she lived in with her husband. So he flat out lied. "Yeah, I was on my way there. Just needed some supplies."

That couldn't be disappointment on her face, no way. She studied the food in his hand. "Deer jerky and dried apples don't really seem like a balanced meal."

"Right, well, you know...it's just for now."

"I'm making a quick dinner for tonight. You could come over."

"Ah, thanks...but I'm good with this." He'd done and seen things that would curl other men's toes, but when it came to this woman, he was just a coward. No way could he face the man she'd married.

Again, that strange look he almost believed was disappointment crossed her face. "Sure...I guess I should be getting back."

Suddenly, the last thing he wanted was for her to leave. "You know...the least I could do would be to buy a lady a drink."

A shy little grin bloomed on her beautiful face. "I suppose that would be nice."

He walked behind her to the counter, the entire time forcing himself not to rest a hand on the small of her back to guide her, the way he once had. They waited as their groceries were totaled up and bagged, the conversation faltering a bit, an awkward silence enveloping them. Strange. Their silences never used to be that way; in fact, silence had once been one of their best forms of communication.

As they exited, Charlie steered them towards a bar down the street. "They should still be open. I catch a drink in here with Miles often enough."

A little bell rang as they entered the door, alerting the bartender. "Charlie, hey. Listen, I'm closing."

"You are?" There was that disappointment he just knew he was imagining again. "I-I just wanted to have a drink with an old friend, Jack. Just one? We won't be long."

"I wish I could, kiddo. But the wife is expecting me for dinner in just a few."

She turned toward Bass, apology in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Maybe another time." As much as he didn't want to say goodbye for the day, he doubted there would be all that much open on Christmas Eve. It was already five and most businesses would be closed for the next two days.

"Listen, I'm really sorry, Charlie. You're one of my favorite customers, you know." The bartender appeared deep in thought for a moment, before a smile broke out on his face. "Hey, I know it's not much, but there's an old Camaro out back. The body is still in good shape and the windows are all intact. You could have a drink or two in there if you want."

Well, he'd drank in far worse places than an old car that hadn't worked in 22 years. And if it kept him in her company longer, he'd take it. "Works for me."

She chuckled, eyes wide and amused. "You sure?"

"Absolutely."

Jack pulled a bottle out from under the bar. "Here, take this. On the house."

"Oh, Jack, no...let me get it." She reached into her bag for some diamonds.

"Charlie, it's my Christmas present to you. Enjoy."

She nodded, taking the bottle with a smile. "Merry Christmas, Jack."

"Merry Christmas, kiddo."

They left through the back door, coming out to an old parking lot with one abandoned red Camaro remaining in it. "Well, look at that."

"It must have been a nice car," she said.

"It is...I mean, it was. They were." Someone had obviously been tending to the well-being of the vehicle, and Bass suspected it was Jack. When the Blackout occurred, cars just stopped working and were left wherever they had died. This one must have gotten stuck here and never moved again. Still, for the body to be in such good condition, someone had to be washing and waxing it from time to time. The water beading on the car confirmed it. "He takes care of it."

"What?"

"Somebody looks out for this car. I would imagine it's your friend Jack. Come on, let's get in." He opened the door for her, helping her into the driver's seat. No need to lock doors on a vehicle that would never run again. Hurrying around to the other side, he hopped in next to her, rubbing his hands together. "This weather is rough."

"Welcome to Tennessee. Not exactly a Texas winter, is it?" She cocked her head at him. "You should be used to this though. You spent all those years in Philly. I can't imagine winters there were easy."

"True, but it's been about 7 years. Your blood thins when you move to a warmer climate." He shrugged. "I'll get used to it again, eventually. Now what about this bottle your buddy gave you?"

"Oh, sorry." She twisted the cap off the top, swirling the amber liquor around inside. "Jack makes this himself. Miles thinks it's the best thing since before the Blackout."

"Miles would know." They shared a smile, chuckling over her uncle's love for booze.

"Oh, we have no glasses or cups. Is that..."

They'd had sex and she thought he would be upset splitting a drink? "We've shared far more than a bottle, Charlie."

The blush that crept up her cheeks was so adorable, he wanted to scream. She was right here...after five torturous years without her, all he wanted to do was yank her close and kiss her senseless. But he could no longer do that. She belonged to someone else. And whose fault is that, idiot?

"Bass..." she murmured, taking a huge swig out of the bottle, then passing it to him.

One sip of the smooth liquor burned his throat, warm and delicious. "Miles was right. This is fabulous."

"Yeah, he's stocked up a few bottles for the holidays." Her eyes remained on him, as if searching for something. "So he's talked about needed a new assistant for awhile now. Blanchard finally decided to get on the ball with it?"

"Yeah, well, no one seemed to be the right fit for the job." He took another gulp of whiskey. "Plus your uncle has a reputation for being...difficult to work with."

"Difficult to work with?" She laughed as she accepted the bottle back from him. "He's made a few grown men cry. He doesn't get it, you know?"

"Get what?"

"A lot of the men under him never really saw much in the way of battle. These are people who never got involved in the rebellion against you. Never battled the Patriots really." She turned to Bass. "It's hard for him to work with men who have never really...fought. Never been soldiers. I think he misses the fight."

There were few who would understand that as much as Bass and Charlie did. "It's hard to just let it go when it's over. It's like coming down from a high that your body doesn't want to stop clinging to."

"I think you'll be really good for him, Bass."

As his eyes locked on hers, he knew he was screwed all over again. What a fool he was...he'd convinced himself he just wanted to come to Tennessee for Miles. The truth was, from the moment the offer had been on Blanchard's lips, he wanted to see Charlie. And he knew he could if he took the job in Franklin. As much as it might be agony to see her again, knowing she was married to another man, it was also a sweet relief...just to look at her again. Those beautiful blue eyes had haunted his dreams for years. "I'll whip him into shape."

She laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in it. "I have no doubt."

Back to the awkward pauses that never used to exist between them. He had to ask the question he'd tried to avoid. "So how is...Michael?"

"Michael?" Clearing her throat, she turned in her seat, facing front and staring out the window. "Well, he's...he's good."

He swallowed. "Any kids?"

A small little sound escaped her throat, but he couldn't tell if it was a laugh or a whimper. "No, no kids."

He was fairly certain there was a story there, but he wasn't sure she was in the mood to discuss it. "Well, you look good. I mean...you look really good, Charlie."

Her eyes reconnected with his. "So do you."

God, it was still there...that intensity between them. The way the world seemed to stop when their eyes met; the way an entire conversation could still pass between them without a word spoken. Years of apologies and regrets swirled in both of their gazes. But it was too late for them. They'd missed their chance when she'd gotten married and he'd done nothing to stop it.

He struggled to find something else to talk about, but wasn't sure where to take the conversation. Had he just made the biggest mistake moving here? It really might be best if he just avoided her in the future. She might not be his any longer, but his body and soul obviously hadn't gotten the message. "So...you remember that one time when Aaron went with us on that patrol and thought he heard some Patriot scouts approaching?"

The sad glow in her eyes was suddenly replaced with humor. "You mean when it ended up being a deer instead?"

"Yeah...and you got mad cause you were ready to shoot down a Patriot, so you had a gun instead of your crossbow."

"And Aaron tried to help by getting my crossbow, tripped over the blanket, scared the hell out of the deer-"

"Lost our supper," he added.

"And nearly set fire to the campsite?" she asked, laughing as the memory came back. "Yeah, I remember."

Taking about the happy part of their past seemed to take the edge off the conversation. Soon they were laughing and joking, throwing insults like they always had, forgetting the years that had stretched out between then and now. Time started ticking by as they rediscovered the friendship they'd lost.

Before they knew it, two hours had passed and they had finished over half the bottle. He was buzzed, but still quite coherent, and strongly aware of her presence beside him. God, he'd missed her, missed this, this easy camaraderie that had developed between them when they'd stopped denying their immense attraction to one another. Once they'd given in and become a couple, he'd found himself best friends with a Matheson for the second time in his life. And happier than he'd ever remembered being. Until he'd screwed it all up with his never-ending insecurity and paranoia.

Charlie seemed to realize that a lot of time had passed too. "Oh, it's getting dark. I think we've been talking for a few hours."

"Yeah." And having a hell of a time too. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so...well, happy. But he just couldn't let it be. His mind wouldn't stop reminding him that he was on borrowed time with her. "You should probably be getting back. Michael will be worried."

The bright, happy look on her face fell, and he wanted to shoot himself. "I guess I should go..."

"Yeah." And let him get on with finding a hotel to spend Christmas in.

She was silent for a moment, as if in deep contemplation. "I missed talking to you, Bass."

Another dagger in his already bleeding heart. "I missed talking to you too, Charlie."

"Listen, the invite to Christmas dinner tomorrow still stands." She told him the street address of Miles's house as well as hers.

"Thanks."

She reached out, grabbing the door handle and starting to pull it open. Then she quickly stopped, leaned over the seat towards him and kissed him firmly on the mouth. It wasn't a passionate kiss, it most certainly wasn't like most of the kisses they'd shared in the past, but it was so full of love that his heart nearly exploded. He forced his hands to remain at his sides and not thrust into her hair to pull her closer. She wasn't his. When she pulled back, her eyes bored into his for a moment, then she turned away, opening the door and stepping out of the car. She was across the parking lot before he regained his senses.

His fingers ran along his mouth, the feel of her lips lingering there. Odd, in five years her taste hadn't changed, not even a little. Sighing, he opened the door and got out of the car, heading in the direction she'd gone, the direction that would bring him around the building and back out to the main street.

The streetlamps were still lit, illuminating the ivy and pine garland decorating the shops and trees on the street. His eyes scanned one way and then the other, but there was no sign of Charlie. Almost as if she'd been a dream his mind had created to get him through another lonely Christmas. But the pressure of her mouth against his remained, assuring him that she had been very real.

Turning in the direction of a decent looking inn he'd seen earlier, he realized that the snow had stopped almost completely. The only thing falling from the sky now was rain.


An hour later...

Bass had no idea what he was doing here.

But it seemed he'd been making bad decisions since he'd taken on this job, so why should showing up at the house Charlie shared with her husband be any different? She hadn't even been out of his sight for 20 minutes when he decided he needed to go after her.

It was the rain that kicked him into gear. Rain was theirs; all the good things that had happened to them involved rain. The first time they'd ever agreed to work on the same side, after he'd saved her in that bar in Pottsboro, it had been raining. The first kiss they ever shared had been in the rain. The first time they ever made love had been on a warm summer afternoon, a light rain falling all around them. For the snow to suddenly turn into rain...well, Bass didn't really believe in signs from above, but this sure as hell felt like one.

So here he stood, heart in his mouth, wondering what he was going to do or say if Michael opened the door. The two men had never liked each other. Bass for the very obvious reason that Michael was his replacement. Michael's reasons were a little more vague, but according to Miles, it had something to do with the way Charlie still looked at Bass whenever they were in the same room. Bass couldn't help it if that made him happy. In the end, it hadn't mattered; she'd married Michael anyway.

The door opened, and Charlie stood before him, surprise on her face once again. "Bass..."

"So...that invitation for dinner...is that still open?"

The corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly, and she stepped back to let him in. "Sure."

He entered, dropping his bag on the floor beside the door, glancing around at the place she called home. It was nice, not too big, with a lot of light wood and pale carpeting. The furnishings were simple and neutral in color, completely fitting of Charlie's personality. Or at least, the one she'd had when they'd known each other. "Nice house."

"Thank you."

"So, uh..." He cleared his throat. "Is Michael here?"

Her eyes never strayed from his. "No."

"Well, I don't wanna...encroach."

She broke eye contact, sighing as she turned away. "Will you stop that, Bass? I invited you here."

"Yeah, I know." He scoffed, shaking his head. "You were gone less than 20 minutes when I realized I had to find you. I just needed to see you again, Charlie."

She studied him for a minute, her eyes dropping to the bag at his side. "There isn't a house, is there?"

He was a terrible liar, especially to her. "No, not yet...I'm moving here. I'll get one, I just..."

Charlie shrugged. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cause I know you. You would have invited me here, to stay here with you and...Michael." How frustrating it was to be so close to her and still so far away.

"So?"

Seriously, she couldn't be serious. How could she not understand? "So I couldn't face that, Charlie. I can't stay here. Where you sleep with your...husband."

Her eyes narrowed at him. She was getting pissed; finally, a glimpse of the fiery woman he'd once known. "And whose fault is that, Bass? Whose fault is it that I don't spend my nights sleeping beside you?"

The fire in her always brought out the same in him. This probably wasn't going to end well. "Yeah, I know it's my fault. But damn it, Charlie, how could you marry him so quickly after we ended? We broke up in January, a month later you were dating him and by May you were getting married. Didn't I mean anything to you?"

Her eyes lit up with anger, a blue flame meant to burn him. "How dare you ask me that? Those eight months we spent together were the best of my life. I was never happier than I was when I was with you. You broke up with me, Bass, remember? I never saw it coming. I thought you were as happy as I was."

"I was happy with you." That was the truth. After months of beating around the bush, they'd finally given into their mutual attraction a little less than a month after the Patriots had been defeated. And all the tension around them just melted into the best relationship he'd ever had. They were amazing together; they complemented each other in battle, the sex was fabulous, the friendship perfect. From June to January, he'd lived the life he'd always dreamt of.

"Then why break up with me?"

"Because I ruin everything I love, Charlie. Everything that matters to me in my life has been ripped away." Everything had been fine, until that one day. "Don't you remember that scare we had in January?"

Her brow furrowed. "What scare?"

"Charlie...when we thought you were pregnant!" He stepped past her into the living room, pacing back and forth. "When you told me that, I was terrified. I lost Shelly that way, Charlie, and there was no way I could face losing you. Not you."

She shook her head sadly. "I didn't think it was a scare. I thought we might have gotten pregnant and we didn't. I thought we could try again later. But never once did I think that would cost me my relationship with you."

"All I could imagine was you...dying..."

"And a few days later, you broke it off with me." She scoffed. "Well, now things make more sense."

"I didn't know what else to do."

He wasn't prepared for the fury she unleashed on him. "I don't know, Bass, how about talk to me! How about tell me your fears, tell me what you were worried about. We were partners. At least I thought we were. We talked about everything. I told you things I never told anyone else. Why would you ever think breaking it off was the best course of action?"

"I just wanted to save you from me...from the pit I seem to drag everyone into." And because he couldn't face even the idea of Charlie dying. He had loved Shelly, that much was true...but Charlie, he'd never loved anyone the way he loved her. "And because, when it comes to you, I will always do whatever I have to do to keep you safe."

"And getting me away from you was supposed to keep me safe?" She cut him off before he could answer. "Do you know what that did to me? It killed me, Bass! I was young...I'd never been in love before. I loved Jason, I did...but I had never fallen in love with anyone until you. I was so happy and then you just took it all away. I was devastated..."

The sorrow and pain on her face tore into him. He'd known she loved him, but he hadn't realized she'd been as head over heels as he'd been. Maybe he'd just convinced himself that he wasn't worthy of her love. "Charlie, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would hurt you that much. I figured you'd just get over me. "

"Get over you? Did the things I told you, the things I whispered to you late at night not register with you? Did you think I was lying?" She seemed appalled at the very thought, tears glistening as she stared at him.

"No, I...I never thought that." He swallowed thickly, holding back the tears threatening to flow. "I was a coward, Charlie. I couldn't face the fact that I might lose you eventually, so I gave you up voluntarily."

"Do you know why I started dating Michael? So quickly after you?" God, did he even want to know now? "It was to make you jealous. To piss you off. The first cute guy who showed me any attention after you...yeah, I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me."

"It worked."

She was still fuming, pointing her finger at him and yelling, angry tears streaming down her face. "You broke my heart, Bass. So you don't get to ask why it happened so quickly. You don't get to ask anything."

"I know I have no right."

All of a sudden, her expression changed, the anger flowing out of her. She was silent for a moment, contemplative. "I don't even know how it happened. He and I were dating...I was still hurting. Then a few months passed and we were getting engaged. My mom was pretty happy, pushing for it."

Of course she was; anything that got Charlie away from him would make Rachel happy as a clam. "She did like Michael."

"Because he wasn't you..." Her blue eyes locked on him, the tears in them making them glow, and he fell into his memories. "He was never you, Bass."

And if that didn't carry a loaded meaning... God, he was getting lost in the past. She wasn't his. No matter what, she was no longer his. "Yeah, but he's the one that got you."

She chuckled, a low sound that held no humor. "God, Bass, for someone with such well-trained powers of observation, you can be very dense."

Great, insults on top of everything else. "Uh..."

"Bass, look around. Does it look like there's a man living here?"

She couldn't mean...for the first time, he took a really good look at her place. Yes, the colors were neutral, but Charlie always favored those shades. There was a pair of shoes by the door. One pair, Charlie's boots. A few coats hung from the rack, all small in size, all for a woman. The book on the coffee table was a mystery novel, the kind Charlie loved. No other books were left out, as if someone else was reading them. One set of door keys rested on the table. One throw blanket. One coffee mug...everything in the house was geared for one occupant.

He looked up at her. "You guys broke up?"

"Oh, Bass." She dropped her head, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingertips, before raising her eyes to his again. "We never got married."

"W-what?"

"I broke it off. I decided there was no way I could marry him. Not when I was still in love with you."

That couldn't have happened... "But I know he moved here when you and Miles did."

"He did move here. He came to try and refurbish some of the buildings in downtown Nashville. He came strictly in a work capacity, Bass."

He exhaled sharply. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I tried. I came to find you. But you were gone." Oh God, she'd broken it off the day of her wedding. The day he'd taken off. "I came to you, to tell you that I loved you. To ask you what I did wrong and to beg you to take me back. But you weren't there. I found Blanchard and he told me that you'd left town. Gone on some mission that was taking you to California. He had no idea when you would get back...or if you would get back."

"I just couldn't...I couldn't face being in Willoughby, knowing you were marrying someone else. The night before, I insisted Blanchard give me the job that would send me away. So I wouldn't be around for your wedding day. Or to watch you and your new husband cuddling all over town." He'd ruined everything, for both of them. "I'm so sorry."

"When Miles took this job, I came too. I couldn't stay in Texas without you, not knowing if you were ever going to come back." She was still crying, but she had never looked more beautiful.

"I was back within a year." His head was reeling. His gaze dropped to her left hand; the ring finger was bare. But in the store...she'd been wearing gloves. Even in the car, it was too cold to remove them, so her hands had been covered the entire time. And he'd just assumed. "But earlier tonight...you said he was doing well."

"He is doing well." A small, sad smile graced her face. "A few years after we moved here, he met a very sweet woman. Their daughter just recently turned two. So...he is good. He's just not with me."

"Charlie..." She'd been deliberately obtuse about Michael.

"I know. I should have told you." She wiped tears from her cheeks. "I guess I'm a coward too. I was afraid you'd tell me you'd moved on...that you had someone else."

Now he did laugh. "Oh, Charlie. There's been no one else since you."

A tiny cry escaped her lips, and he was across the room, yanking her into his arms before either could blink. There was no way he could stand for her to suffer one moment more. Charlie was just about the strongest women he'd ever met, fierce and unbreakable, until she let her guard down. Which she usually only did with him.

She framed his face with her hands, her fingers scratching at his beard. "Bass...I've missed you so much."

His lips crashed down on hers, his arms pulling her flush against his body. He was like a starving man and she was the first real food set down in front of him in years. Unlike the kiss they'd shared in the car, this one was full of fire and passion and love. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and tracing his tongue along her lips, begging for entrance. Charlie complied, moaning when his tongue plunged into her mouth.

Softening the kiss, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers and gazing into her eyes. "Charlie, God, you're so sweet. Always so sweet."

"I forgot how much I love kissing you."

He chuckled. "I never forgot that. But, Charlie, listen to me. I love you. I think I always have. But I'm so much older than you. I'm going to be 50 next year. If you want to find someone younger-"

"If you even complete that sentence, I will deck you so hard your head will spin." There she was; there was his feisty warrior. "No more paranoia. You can't ever do that to me again. You are the man I lost the most to, and yet you're the one that gave me back the most. I love you, you infuriating idiot."

"You're making this too easy for me. I feel like I should be jumping through more hoops here, down on my hands and knees begging."

"Yeah, let's skip all that and jump straight to the part where we're happy again. We already lost five years, Bass. I don't want to lose anymore."

"Neither do I, Charlie." God, he loved this woman. This was mainly his fault. He'd split them up, let her think he didn't love her, and then idly sat by while another man had taken his girl. Then he'd left town before she had a chance to fix what he'd broken. And she still wanted him. Was there nothing he could do that she would not forgive? "Neither do I. I will spend the rest of my life making things up to you."

She smiled. "I can live with that."

He laughed. For the first time in years, his heart felt lighter, and that harsh feeling of loneliness was finally gone. He kissed her again, his lips brushing over hers. He rested his hands on her face and stared into those vibrant eyes. "Charlie...you've been in my dreams for years. But I was worried there for a minute."

"Worried?"

"Well, you seem a lot calmer." He swiped his thumb over her cheek. "I was worried I wouldn't get to see my little firebrand again."

"I've grown up a bit, Bass. And…I don't know...I guess I lost a lot of the fire when I lost you." His face reflected the guilt he felt. "No, don't feel bad. You see I still have it...all you have to do is piss me off when you want to see it."

Laughter echoed between them once again. "I can probably piss you off pretty well. I guess I hated thinking you weren't my girl anymore."

"Bass, every part of me has always been yours."

His heart slammed in his chest; she never failed to make him feel like a lovesick teenager. "So, uh...does this mean I can maybe stay here for awhile? Just until I find a house."

She smirked. "I suppose that could be arranged. But there are a few things. First off, I have a guest room."

"A guest room?" Well, he supposed he shouldn't expect her to just jump right back in.

"You won't be staying in it..." She winked at him. Or maybe she was jumping in feet first. "Also...I'd kind of prefer it if you didn't really hurry to find a house...I mean..."

He stared at her, the look passing between them intense. "What do you mean?"

"This is a perfectly good house right here."

From the moment they'd decided to become more than friends all those years ago, he hadn't been able to say no to this woman. And why would he even want to? "It's a great house."

"So you'll stay?" Almost at a loss for words, he nodded his answer. "There's one last thing."

"Anything."

A huge grin crossed her face. "You're coming to Christmas dinner tomorrow afternoon."

"Great, Miles can kill me for hooking up with his niece again." Which he really didn't believe would happen. When Miles first discovered their relationship, he'd blackened Bass's eye. But he'd quickly realized how happy both his niece and his best friend were together, and he'd become one of their biggest supporters. Then Bass had broken it off, and Miles had blackened his eye again. Until he realized that his best friend was hurting as much as Charlie. Miles had never asked him why he'd split from her, but he seemed to understand that something serious had caused the rift and left it at that.

"Miles is not going to kill you. He's going to be too happy to see you." Bass rolled his eyes. "He will. Especially when he sees how happy I am again."

God, she was confessing things to him the way she always used to. They were picking up right where they left off, as if no time had passed. The five years apart had been agony, but maybe it had allowed them both the chance to grow. "Well then, Miles is going to be happy for a long time, cause I plan to make you the happiest woman in the world."

She laughed. "Yeah, until we fight."

"Yeah," he said, chuckling, holding her loosely in his arms. "Until we fight."

"But...there is always making up..."

"Yes, there is."

"I think you have a lot of making up to do." She cocked an eyebrow at him.

More than anything, he wanted to do the alpha male thing and toss her over his shoulder, dragging her to the bedroom, but... "Charlie, I want to spend days in bed with you. And I will make everything up to you, but it's been about 12 hours since I ate."

"Oh, my God. Bass, why didn't you say anything?"

Jesus, he was a wuss. His woman, the one he loved more than his own life, was throwing herself at him, and he had to stop for food. "Well..."

"You were trying to be a tough guy...idiot." She pushed him towards the couch. "Sit...I'm starving myself. I'll go grab us a couple of sandwiches."

"Thanks, Charlie."

She smiled at him, head tilted as if deep in thought, then stepped close to the Christmas tree in front of the picture window. On their first and only Christmas together, he'd cut them a tree, which they'd decorated with strewn cranberries and corn popped over the fire. She'd done the same with the one she had now. But this one had something different adorning it...small candles sat in tiny holders held onto the branches by clips. She traced a finger over one of them. "Miles set this up for me. He found these in an old box of decorations in the house he and Mom moved into. He knew how much I wanted lights on my Christmas tree."

Her eyes dug into his. The Christmas eve they'd spent together, they'd shared so much with each other, trading little stories back and forth late into the night. He'd confessed to her that the thing he missed most about pre-Blackout Christmases were the lights on the tree. She wanted lights because he wanted them. "Charlie..."

She struck a match, lighting the tiny candles and filling the room with a warm glow. "I didn't expect you, Bass. I have nothing to give you...except this."

As he stood there, staring at the beautiful tree beside the beautiful woman, his throat felt dry, his eyes watery. "It's perfect. Thank you, Charlie."

The smile she graced him with was breathtaking. "I'll go get us something to eat."

She disappeared into the kitchen, and he wandered around the room, noticing all the little things that made her house a home. A soft fire burned in the hearth, the pine boughs she laid on the mantle giving it a cozy Christmas feel, the fresh smell reminding him of their first tree. His eyes fell back on the candlelit tree again. She'd given him the lights he'd wished for all those years ago...God, she never failed to amaze him.

Now, he wished he had something special to give her, something to make their new Christmas memorable. But the last thing he'd been prepared for was a reconciliation. His mind drifted back to a Christmas Eve, five years prior...he'd wanted lights and she'd wanted...

Suddenly, he knew exactly what would make her Christmas special. He dug into his bag, his hand wrapping around the objects he wanted, then he moved around the room blowing out the candles, leaving only the light of the tree and the fire.

When Charlie re-entered, the room was darkened. She chuckled. "Uh, very romantic, Bass, but not so subtle. I thought you wanted to eat?"

"I do, but put the sandwiches down for a minute, Charlie." When she complied, he grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the tree. "There's something I want to give you."

He eyes lit up, all excitement and joy. "What?"

He showed her the item in his right hand. "Do you know what this is?"

She studied it for a minute. "Um...Maggie had one of those. It was a phone, I guess, before the Blackout."

"Some were phones. This one is a little different. It's called an iPod, and it was mainly used to listen to music. I got this when I went out to California. It really has no use if you have no power. But..." He opened his left hand, uncovering an object resting in his palm. There in the firelight, the silver metal glinted a reddish gold. "I assume you remember this?"

Her hand traced the teardrop contour of the pendant, her eyes flying up to his. "How do you still have this?"

"Flynn I guess. I really don't remember how I wound up with it, Charlie." He could never figure out how the pendant had gotten back into his possession. And it was the one thing he'd never told her about. "I was in that field, in Colorado, with the lightning striking all around me, and I thought I was dead. I ran for a tree in the distance to ride out the storm crashing over my head. At some point, I reached into the pocket of my overcoat...and there it was."

"The pendant." He nodded. "Why did you keep it?"

"I don't know...maybe so I wouldn't forget what the price of my greed had cost. Or maybe so it would never fall into someone else's hands." He gazed at her, his eyes full of the love he felt. "Or maybe I thought it was all I would ever have of the Matheson family legacy."

She pressed her palm against his cheek. "You're a part of that family now, Bass."

He leaned into her hand, turning his head to place a kiss against her fingers. "I just thought...this was used for so much evil. What if we could use it for something good?"

"Like what?"

"Like this." He pressed the button on the front of the pendant and the small iPod came to life. He pulled up a list of songs, scrolling through to find what he was searching for. "On that Christmas Eve we had together, you told me that what you missed most were Christmas songs. In particular, one Christmas song that your mother and father used to play. I tried singing it for you, remember? But...the singer had a pretty distinctive voice. I think you told me I wasn't all that good at it."

Tears filled her eyes, but she chuckled at the memory. "Oh, my God. Bass..."

"This is for you, Charlie." He pressed his finger against the screen and the strains of Elvis Presley's I'll Be Home For Christmas filled the room. Even though he'd turned the volume all the way up, it wasn't very loud, but it was enough in their quiet, darkened room. He set the iPod and the pendant on the coffee table and reached a hand out to her. "Dance with me?"

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it. Unable to speak, she merely nodded, stepping into the circle of his arms as the melancholy song played on. He held her tightly as they gently swayed to the music, his face buried in her hair as she clung to him.

"This song is so sad," she said.

"Yes, it is, Charlie."

"But now you're home for Christmas. So it's perfect." Her eyes fell on the little glowing silver box, then filled with humor as she gazed back at him. "So...you bought this iPod in California. Cause you knew you could use it."

It wasn't a question. "Yeah, though I swear that is the only thing I ever use the pendant for."

"I know you missed music a lot." She knew him so well.

"I missed you too. Having music made losing you just the slightest bit easier."

"Bass..."

"We had a few in the Republic, but I could never find an iPod in Texas." His fingers traced along her jaw. "When we were together, I wanted one in the worst way."

"Why?"

"I wanted to share music with you, Charlie." He gazed at her.

She swallowed, her eyes soft and so very blue as she looked at him. "Will you do that with me now?"

"Of course." He smiled, thrilled that she would want that as much as him. "This one is loaded with some pretty good music. Elvis, The Who, Led Zeppelin. A lot of classic rock and blues. Whoever owned it had pretty good taste in music."

"You sound like a little kid." At his chagrined look, she pressed her lips to his. "I love it. I love that this means so much to you. And that you want to share that with me."

"Will you spend Christmas eve with me, Charlie?" He ran a hand down her back, pulling her close again. "Just us, the fire, the tree, and some Christmas songs."

"There is nothing I want more in the world." She cuddled into his shoulder, her hand resting on his chest as they stopped moving, both staring at the lights on the tree. "And look, Bass, it's snowing."

He glanced out at the fresh snow swirling around outside the window. At some point, the rain must have stopped completely because the world was now a crisp, clean white. He rested his head against the top of hers as they stared out at the storm. "Thank you for my lights, Charlie."

"Thank you for my song, Bass. Thank you for being here. I couldn't have wished for a better Christmas than this."

His lips found hers again, a gentle kiss that held so much promise. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be than here with you."

"Welcome home, Bass." She gazed up at him, her tender smile lit by the fire and the soft glow of tiny candles. He held her tightly as they stared out at the snowy night, Elvis still crooning in the background.

She was here with him. They had food, a warm fire, music, and an honest-to-God Christmas tree. Most importantly, they had each other. And tomorrow, he would reconnect with the rest of his family. He had finally found his way back.

Now he knew exactly what he was doing here.

He was coming home.

So this is loosely based because Same Old Lang Syne ends in a bittersweet way. I wasn't letting that happen to Charloe. And hey, quick nod to Lemon for helping me out of a tight spot. Driver...Merry Christmas, buddy!