A/N: For anyone who actually reads my fanfic profile and pays attention to the 'coming soon' teasers I put there, this will be one you might have been expecting. It's been in the works for six months, and although it's not all that long (seven chaps total), it is far weightier emotionally than my usual fare. This story deals with death (and I'll warn you a lot of it), but also with time travel and the afterlife. More than anything, this story is about love – the kind of love that never dies.

I rarely write a story in its entirely before posting, but that is what I've done here. I did this for continuity reasons (the story is interwoven in a way that made me want to be able to go back and change early parts if needed) and also simply because it's a bit angsty and I didn't want you to have to wait for updates. What does that mean for you? You'll get a new chapter daily for one week until all seven chapters are published. If you want to wait until its complete, to read – I do understand, but I hope you'll give it a shot.

Still unsure? Maybe this will help… just like the best massage parlors, I guarantee a happy ending. So, even if you are reading and you think, how can she possibly end this with Charloe together and happy and with a future in front of them? Well, just trust me. It's going to happen. I'm giving you my word.

Chapter 1: Why Did We Wait So Long?
(The First Day of the Patriot War – Willoughby Texas – The year is 2029)

Bass Monroe nurses a whiskey in a crappy bar in the heart of Willoughby. Only a few hours have passed since he and Blanchard watched as Texas Rangers took the first shots of the new Patriot War. Bass smiles a little at the memory. He's trying to do the 'good guy' thing with Miles, but it is kind of fun to let General Monroe out to play once in a while as well.

Bass isn't very excited about the war ahead, but he and Miles have both agreed to do whatever they can to help. There are still some tensions between the Ranger leadership and the two former Generals, but Blanchard has been doing what he can to smooth things out.

Miles and Bass will join the troops in a week or so. Blanchard had agreed when they had asked for a short break before getting into the middle of it all. Bass doesn't have any plans for his time off, but some ideas are taking shape. He needs to find his kid, for one, and he thinks maybe it's time he talks to Charlie. Seems like maybe it's time to tell her how he feels.

And then, almost as if conjured by his thoughts of her…she is here.

Bass knows Charlie well enough to know that she took note of everyone who is here as soon as she walked in. She knows he's here. She knows he's sitting alone at a corner table. She probably knows he's watching her.

He waits, never taking his eyes from her form.

She trades currency for a drink before turning his way. He cocks an eyebrow in invitation. She rolls her eyes but comes his way, settling into the chair across from him.

Charlie takes a drink before speaking, "So, I heard you and Blanchard caused quite a ruckus earlier?"

He shrugs, "Yeah, we got things started. No big deal."

"Some people think that starting a war is sort of a big deal." She's trying not to smirk, but fails.

"I suppose that's true." He takes another drink, holding her gaze. "You joining up? Miles said you weren't sure."

She shrugs, "Probably. Nothing else to do."

"Well, I hope you'll be fighting with us. Always have liked working with you."

"Yeah?" she seems surprised by this.

"Of course. You're a great fighter – you know, for a girl." He teases.

Charlie narrows her eyes at him, but she sees he's laughing and shrugs. "You fight pretty good for a girl too."

Bass laughs loudly then, his head thrown back. "Well, you know what I mean. We make a good team. You, me and Miles."

"Yeah, we do." She agrees, still smiling. "And Miles thinks we can win it easily. Maybe by summer."

Bass frowns at this, "That would make it the first easy war we ever fought, but yeah, I do think we'll win."

She nods thoughtfully, "You know…this seems strange. You're talking to me like a person." She tilts her head, watching him with bald curiosity.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, ever since we got back from Austin, you've been distant and, I don't know, weird. There for a while we were kind of getting along. Lately, not so much."

"Oh." He stares into his whiskey without saying more.

"Ah, there he is…the silent, broody Monroe I've gotten used to lately." Bass hears something in her voice and glances up. She shutters her expression quickly, but not before he sees the hurt. Shit.

"Listen, Charlie… I'm sorry." He knows it sounds lame. It is lame. He isn't sure how to tell her that he's distanced himself on purpose. When he'd seen how torn up she was after Austin, he wanted nothing more than to go to her, to hold her, to…. "I guess I just needed some space."

She leans away quickly, as if she's been slapped. Charlie stares at him for a second. This time she doesn't even try to hide the hurt. She stands, "Then by all means, have some space."

He watches her walk away as regret boils in his gut. "Damn it." He mutters before downing his drink and following after her.

He finds her easily. She's just outside the door of the bar, leaning against the wall, her face hidden in shadow. "What do you want?" she asks with a cracking voice.

"I want to buy you a drink." He runs a hand nervously through his hair, "I want to explain better. Please come back in."

Charlie looks across the street as a group of grade school aged children run by screeching and waving tiny Texas flags. The town is full of celebration as news of the war's kickoff floods the streets. Everywhere she looks, Charlie sees grinning faces and laughter. The realities of war have not set in yet for these people. It will soon. For now, everyone is just happy that the war is finally underway. She envies them their happiness. She doesn't feel it herself. She doesn't answer him, but she does turn and walk back into the bar.

He sighs in relief, and follows her to the table they'd just vacated. She sits. He sits next to her, avoiding the chair across the table where he'd been before. He still has a good view of the door, and from here he can hear her better over the swelling noise of the crowd. She won't look at him, choosing to stare at the table top instead. "So explain." She finally says.

"I needed some space after Austin…"

"Because?"

This is not how he wanted to get into this. He isn't even sure what to say, but he takes a deep breath and dives in. "Because I knew you still hated me and I knew you'd be mad if I tried to be there for you, but I understood what you were going through and I wanted to help you through it if I could… but I knew it wasn't my place, and I didn't want to make you mad." He frowns at her profile and then looks away. "Or make you madder than you already were anyway. So, I started staying away, and then the thing with the mustard gas happened, and your Bitch Mom tried to turn Miles against me, and then the train and Neville. It all just happened so fast. And then Connor… Anyway, I'm sorry."

She stares at him a moment, shocked to hear such a rambling speech from Monroe. She chooses to focus on the bit she understands, "What about Connor?" she asks.

Bass takes another deep breath, letting it out slowly, "He left because I chose to stay and fight with Miles instead of rebuilding the damn Republic with him. Don't know if I'll ever see him again. He's off with Neville somewhere."

"I know he's your kid, but Connor is a dick sometimes."

Bass looks surprised, "Where is this coming from? Thought you guys were…buds."

"Why? Because I slept with him once? Sorry. That experience didn't exactly make me his number one fan."

Bass shakes his head, but laughs before leaning in close. "Clearly, he was doing something wrong if the impression he made was so poor…." Bass's voice is teasing, and his breath is hot on her cheek.

She tries to keep a straight face, but the smile in his voice is contagious. "Clearly." She agrees. After that, the mood lightens and they settle into comfortable conversation. Bass motions for the bartender to keep the drinks coming.

They've been sitting here, drinking, talking and even flirting for over an hour when another round appears. Bass decides it's now or never. Might as well dive in. He takes a drink, "So Jason? He was 'the one' or whatever?"

She narrows her eyes at him, "The one?" Charlie asks, unsure what he's getting at.

"I went looking for Miles today after Blanchard and I were done with uh…treaty negotiations. I wanted to ask him if he'd like to grab a drink. When I found him, you guys were talking. I didn't want to intrude…"

"But you were okay with eavesdropping?"

Bass shrugs, "I didn't hear a lot. Just you saying Miles and your Mom should try to make things work and that you never had that chance with Jason…so, he was 'the one'?"

"I don't know. I said that because I needed an example that Miles would accept coming from me. Jason was important to me, but no. I don't think he was 'the one'."

"And Connor wasn't either?" he teases.

"Definitely not." She shakes her head.

"Surely someone has caught your eye?" He knows he's probably going about this all wrong, but he can't seem to help himself.

She shrugs, not meeting his gaze.

"Well, I hope you aren't going to tell me it was Scanlon who you can't stop thinking about, because if it is…I have some bad news for you."

She scrunches up her nose, "No. Not Scanlon." She takes another drink, "Wait. What was your bad news about Scanlon? Did he go off with Connor and Neville?"

"Probably would have, but when they all started shooting at me, I shot back."

"Oh." She nods, understanding. "Sorry about all that. You made the right choice, though. Miles over Connor. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I do know. Doesn't make it easier." He looks down at his drink, smile gone.

"We don't have to talk about it."

"Good." He says, meeting her eyes, "Where were we? Oh yeah, you were going to tell me who it is that you can't stop thinking about."

"Uh, I was?" She asks with a little smile. "I don't ever remember telling you there was anybody I can't stop thinking about…"

Bass is watching her closely, and his heart beat accelerates when he sees her gaze fall to his mouth as she speaks. They have been drinking for a while, and as the bar has become more crowded, they have moved closer together. He's not exactly sure when he put his arm around her shoulder, but now he's unable to focus on anything other than her closeness.

"Yeah, you were." Now it's his turn to look at her mouth. He lets his gaze linger there, making sure that she sees that he's looking. Bass looks into her eyes again and he can feel her sharp intake of breath. Slowly he curls his fingers to press lightly against her shoulder, stroking the tiniest of circles against the thin leather of her jacket.

Charlie turns into him slowly, her nose just barely brushing the side of his throat. Her voice is low, "What is happening here?"

Bass's fingers dig into her shoulder as he pulls her closer. "I guess this is me showing you who I can't stop thinking about."

She pulls away slightly, meeting his eyes. "Since when?"

"Since I found you in that field with my…"

"That was a long time ago." She whispers, her lips brushing against his ear. "What took you so long?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you weren't the only one…."

"Since when?" he asks, grinning now, heart pounding.

"Since…I don't know exactly. A while."

"Maybe we can go somewhere? Talk about it?" he asks.

"What if I'm tired of talking?"

Bass answers her without words. His lips find hers in a kiss that is tentative and exploratory and so very hot that he feels it in his bones. He pulls away and stands, grabbing her hand. They leave the bar quickly, but she stops him when they are outside. "Where are we going?" she asks.

"I was going to stay at the rooming house. Haven't checked in yet."

Charlie nods in agreement and they start in that direction. He holds on to her hand, glancing at her frequently, trying to gauge her thoughts. He is very aware that at any moment she might change her mind.

She squeezes his fingers and grins shyly. He gets the message. She's not changing her mind.

They get to the front desk of the old rooming house. An old geezer is reading a tattered paperback and doesn't even look up. He points at a small hand written sign that lists the prices, and pushes a guest book in their direction. Bass places the required diamonds on the counter and picks up a stubby pencil. He goes to write his name, but stops when Charlie places a hand on his arm. He looks at her and sees the shake of her head. Charlie blushes and that's when he understands. If they use their real names, someone might find them. Someone might interrupt.

Neither of them wants any interruptions. Not tonight.

He presses the pencil to the paper. He scrawls something on it and takes the key that has materialized on the counter. Charlie glances at the guest book as Bass pulls her toward the stairs. His handwriting is surprisingly neat, and she smiles when she reads what he's written.

Mr. and Mrs. Ulysses S Grant.

They make their way to the room they've rented for the night, bumping into walls and tripping over uneven floor boards as they go – unable to keep their hands and mouths off each other. By the time they tumble into the room itself, they are both breathing heavily.

"You sure you don't want to talk, you know…first?" he asks, pulling at her jacket.

She shrugs out of the garment. "Yeah. Very sure."

"All right then." He says with a little smile as he slips his fingers under the hem of her tank, tugging the fabric over her head. Her bra is simple if a bit ragged. Bass doesn't care. He leans in to nuzzle the space between her breasts. They are full and firm with youth. Her hard little nipples press against the worn cotton enticingly. He sucks one and then the other through the bra. She moans, arching against the heat of his mouth.

He stands tall again and now it is Charlie who is pulling at clothing – his – in an effort to see all of him. He helps her. Soon all barriers have been removed. Charlie and Bass face each other in the shimmering light of the moon as it shines through the small window.

"You are beautiful." Charlie says softly.

He shakes his head, "No Charlotte, that would be you." He puts his hands on her face, tenderly rubbing calloused thumbs over her smooth cheekbones. He stares into her eyes for a long time, telling her without words how much it means to him that they are here.

Finally here.

Taking Charlie's hand, Bass pulls her to the bed where they lay side by side. First touches are slow and achingly sweet. He strokes down her arm and over her hip. She trails tentative fingers from his throat to his abs, loving the way he trembles in response. He covers her mouth with his, searching for and finding entry. Bass slides his tongue into her mouth, exploring her depths. He moves his hand to cup her breast, caressing the mound carefully.

"Bass, please…" she whispers shakily. He smiles against her mouth. He understands. They've waited long enough.

He slides his hand down her body, slipping his fingers between her thighs. He finds her wet and swollen with need. "Damn it Charlie." he says roughly, stroking two fingers into her heat.

Charlie moans, arching into his touch. She reaches between their bodies, grasping his hard cock firmly.

"Now?" he asks her.

"Now."

Their first time is slow and sweet.

The second time is needier and more intense.

Round three is a different animal all together. Flecks of dust float through the first rays of sunlight. As the new day dawns, Bass is sitting with his back to the headboard. Charlie is astride, moving up and down slowly, sheathing his shaft with languid movements. They kiss and when they aren't kissing, their eyes are locked. Bass swears he's never had this much eye contact during sex before in his life.

But then, this is more than sex. He knows it. He's pretty sure she knows it too.

Her nipples drag up and down his chest as she rides. He loves the way her body envelops him, the way he fits so perfectly inside her, the way she looks at him as if he has hung the moon.

Bass strokes Charlie's thighs and ass as she moves. He can feel her body quivering as she closes in on another orgasm. He reaches between them, stroking her clit until she comes apart. He follows soon after, emptying into her core.

"Why the fuck did we wait so long to do this?" he whispers against her hair.

"No idea." She says with a contented smile.

She almost tells him she loves him, but she's afraid that revelation will scare him away.

He almost tells her he loves her, but he's afraid it's too early.

If either of them knew that this was going to be the one and only night they'd ever share, they would have probably done things differently. It's difficult though, to fully understand what's going on when you are in the middle of a promising beginning. It's almost impossible in that moment of hope and excitement to grasp the possibility that it might also be the end.

Later Charlie will wonder why she took him for granted for all those months after she realized he meant something to her. She will kick herself for waiting so long to show him how she felt. She will wonder why she had always thought him immortal.

Humans aren't immortal.

We all die.

Bass Monroe is no exception.

A/N: Chap two will be posted tomorrow. A very special thank you to Iceonfire7 and WildIrish for reviewing this story in advance and providing fabulous and helpful feedback. Please comment if you have a moment. -Lemon