A/N: I haven't written any new fandoms in some time...I now have three as I enter the world of Revolution (previous fandoms include Friday Night Lights and My So Called Life-only on LJ). I sincerely hope you enjoy...and that if you do you take time to tell me. :-)

I started writing this as I have been pining for this ship to develop, and am not confident it will on screen. So I offer to you...a fanfic ship of Charloe!

Reviews are like food, nourishment for a writer's soul! Bon Appetit.

Chapter 1: Desert Tornado

Looking back, Sebastian Monroe figured he ought to thank those bounty hunters who had liberated him from that hell hole. He'd almost gotten tired of the constant pounding of flesh –both of the fighting and fucking varieties. If nothing else, leaving that joint had spurred him forward instead of the repetitive cycle of slaking his seething aggression on pathetic men who thought they could best him and women that just wanted to have him. While an effective release, it was getting old and he was going nowhere. Now he had purpose. He was going to reach Miles Matheson, the man he called brother. Miles, who was going to make all that was wrong in his world right again. Sebastian figured it didn't matter that Miles currently hated his guts. He would have to make him see they were better together than apart; despite all that lie between them. Destiny had a way of getting her way. And that was what it came down to, in his mind. Only a fool turns their back on brilliance. And Miles was no fool.

What he hadn't expected though, was that Charlotte Matheson was going to be part of the picture. But nonetheless, here she was. As he'd hoped, after he'd told her about the bounty the Patriots had out on her mother and the fact that he'd just saved her life (again), they had reached some sort of partnership; an uneasy truce. She was at least willing to tolerate him and might even be starting to trust him. There was no longer intense hatred burning bright in her eyes like there was just a few days ago in the dry swimming pool. He understood that hatred. His actions as President of the Monroe Republic were ultimately responsible for the death of her father and her brother.

Shortly after they'd been separated, he had carefully tracked her because he knew she was the key to finding Miles, and apparently these so-called "Patriots" were after him. Either he fought back…or he was forced to live a life on the run. He wasn't even sure what a normal life meant anymore. But he was starting to wonder what it might be like, to live with a woman, a family; on their own land and independent. That seemed like a dream, for a man like him.

Face it, he had enjoyed killing those men at that bar. Not one of those men had stood a chance. The hot burst of rage was old and familiar and as powerful as ever. He actually had not felt that degree of emotion in several years. When he carefully carried Charlotte to safety gently laid her in the bed of a wagon, his anger had cooled and disappeared. He would have preferred horseback to the wagon, but it wasn't possible with Charlotte drugged as she was.

And so now here they were. She had agreed to take him to Willoughby, where her mom and Miles were staying with her grandfather, Gene. He caught her watching him when she thought he wasn't aware of it, and every once in a while he returned the favor. She wasn't hard to look at, not at all. Her skin was tanned and healthy, her eyes a bright blue, like her mother's. Her hair was a nice blend of brown and blonde, and he admitted that when she was unconscious, he'd wanted to run his fingers through it, like he had once before…but had resisted. And her body…he'd best not go there.

"I almost killed you first, you know, before the bounty hunters took you," she broke the silence as the horses plodded along under the hot Texas sun.

What he wouldn't give for a pair of sunglasses right now. "Oh yeah?" He asked. Just when he'd thought for sure things between them were improving. If all she wanted to talk about was killing him, this was going to be a short conversation and he'd sorely miss-read the situation.

"Yeah. I'd asked the bookmaker at that whorehouse you were fighting at to bring you outside so I could meet you. But instead I was waiting to kill you. When you stepped out, I had you pinned. I don't know why I didn't take the shot immediately. And once I let the arrow fly, it was too late. They had gotten to you first."

He thought back, and recalled that he'd been pressed to go out to meet a woman…you're gonna want to meet this one, trust me... He grinned over at her. "Well, it's a good thing you didn't, otherwise I wouldn't have been there to save your life."

"True. And why did you?"

Sebastian paused. Good question. Why had he? It was more than just needing her to take him to Miles. He admired not only her beauty, but her spirit—defiant and proud and full of purpose. When he'd seen her staggering in the bar, fighting to stay upright and defend herself against that room full of lust-filled bastards…well hell. He'd become so calloused and accustomed to violence and killing, that nothing affected him anymore. Nothing- his compassion was void. Seeing her fighting for her life in the bar was like being doused with a bucket of ice water. It had woken something up inside of him that had been slumbering quietly for over a decade.

"Charlotte, I know you don't think much of me. But I don't know how I could stand by and watch any woman fight for her life against a horde of stinking, baseless cowards who want to use and abuse her over and over. I may be many things, sweetheart, but a coward I am not." He turned his head to look at her as he spoke. The look on her face and in her eyes said she knew how close she had come to being gang-raped and left for dead. He fought the urge to reach over and touch her, let her know that she was not alone…but he figured she wouldn't appreciate it so he looked back to the road instead.

"Look it's in the past, and best left there…" his words trailed off as he saw a pair of riders approaching from a curve up ahead. He licked his lips unconsciously and then found himself taking the reins up in one hand and gently pulling her close into the curve of his body with the other. He felt her stiffen and take a sharp breath at his action but before she could protest the riders descended upon them. He kept his arm around her back, shielding their view of his access to a loaded hand gun, hidden beneath the buckboard. He cocked it but otherwise left it hidden as the riders came to a stop in front of the wagon.

"Howdy friends," drawled the man nearest them as he tipped his hat, his eyes passing over Charlotte before settling on him. "Name's Agent Oliver. I've been tracking a pack of renegades – a gang of murderers and thieves, the most cutthroat lowlifes you've ever seen. And who might you be?"

"Name's Madison, Sean Madison, and this is my wife Christine," he lied easily. "We haven't seen anyone. How many are there, and are they on horseback?"

"They are, and last count had them at five or six. They are armed and extremely dangerous. They attacked some folks on a farm not too far from here a few days back. Took their daughter and well, we found her body earlier this morning. You'd best keep a close eye on your wife there. I don't want to say what they'd done to the girl before they'd killed her, but you can well imagine."

Sebastian felt Charlotte press a little closer to him and with his eyes never leaving the other man's gaze, answered evenly, "I can take care of what's mine. I'll kill any man that lays a hand on her. I appreciate the warning, though, just the same."

Oliver tipped his hat to them both. "You folks be careful," he warned again before they galloped away.

"Charlotte, keep your eyes on them," he said quietly, while he clucked to the horses and kept his eyes straight ahead while they pulled the wagon out. He considered unhitching the horses and riding the rest of the way. He pulled the pistol out from under the seat and tucked it into the waistband of his pants, at his back.

"Wife?" she asked between her teeth.

"Well, I couldn't tell them the truth now could I? That you'd sooner shoot me than kiss me?"

Just then, two men popped out of the Texas brush, one had a gun drawn and he yelled at them to reach for the sky or he'd shoot. The other man ran up alongside the horses to the bay mare and grabbed her bridle to slow her to a stop. He and Charlotte slowly raised their hands to the air and he kept his eyes locked on the man with the gun which was now aimed squarely at his chest.

"So you tole a lie to the lawman, huh? You're not married?" He drawled. "Well? And keep those hands up," he yelled.

"Uh yeah, we're married. She's just pissed at me. I drank the last of the coffee this morning."

"Nah, I thinks you stole her. I don't thinks you're married at all. I thinks she's a hostage. We been followin' ya. Heard her say she tried to kill you. I happen to believe, she'd sooner shoot you than kiss ya, and I'm bound to find out. Me an him got a bet, see."

He looked over at Charlotte. This was not going to end well.

"So we gotta see, if you're gonna kiss him. Or I'll give you a gun and you can shoot him 'cause he stole ya." He felt her stiffen.

"What? You want me to kiss him? To prove he's my husband?"

"That's right. Kiss him. Or shoot him," he cackled.

Charlotte turned towards him and kissed him quickly on the lips. Sebastian didn't take his eyes off the gun. "There. I kissed him. That's all he gets. Like he said, I'm mad at him for drinking the coffee."

"Shoot, that ain't no kiss, honey. I mean a real kiss. Even if he did steal yo coffee you kin kiss 'im better an that!"

He couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Shut up," she hissed at him.

"What? He's got a point," he whispered.

"You want a kiss, I'll give you a real kiss!"

Charlotte took hold of his shirt to pull him to her, and shocked the hell out of him with a hot, open-mouthed, sensual kiss. He left his hands in the air and struggled to stay upright. He could barely keep his eyes open just enough to keep tabs on the man with the gun (and noted with disgust the scumbag's free hand was now inside his pants and stroking his cock). Sebastian slowly lowered his hands to waist level. Her lips softening, he felt Charlotte's hands slide down his chest to circle his waist and he felt her gently pull the gun free. As if they'd rehearsed it a thousand times, she passed the gun into his right hand, ducked and took cover as he fired a kill shot to the head of the armed man while the other turned and ran. Sebastian leapt down to chase after the unarmed man. He didn't get far. The man pulled a knife, and a quick exchange left the man in the dirt with his own knife buried to the hilt in his chest.

He returned to the wagon and found Charlotte going through the man's pockets as he put the revolver back in this waistband. "He got anything? The other one didn't have much."

"No," she answered, without meeting his gaze. "I'll keep his gun though."

He stopped beside the wagon and waited for her to join him. "Charlotte, I…" and he stopped cold when her eyes met his. She looked so vulnerable and although he knew it wasn't a good idea, he did it anyway. He simply had to. He couldn't let her think that he had been unaffected. He pulled her into his arms and when his lips met hers she opened to him with a soft cry that nearly unleashed everything he'd been holding back. His curled hands grasped her hips to urgently pull them to his while they devoured each other like starved animals. It felt like he'd been caught in a tornado by how quickly all his senses came to life. Stunned him, actually. She was trembling when he abruptly broke the kiss. He took a small step back and felt his arms drop. His breathing slowed.

"I think we better get going…what say we unhitch these horses and ride the rest of the way? I'm a little worried if there is a pack of wild animals out there, this slow wagon might mean similar attacks, and as much as I enjoyed the outcome I'm not sure we should tempt fate like this…" he let his question trail off after he realized he was babbling. He looked away and tried to pretend as if he hadn't just been completely carried away by one little kiss and was within seconds of making an even larger mistake.

Charlotte cleared her throat. "Um yeah, I think that's a wise decision."

"Okay. You take the bay mare, and I'll take the chestnut …" and they busied themselves with unhitching the horses from the wagon and continuing their journey on horseback.