"Fearless Summer"
by WildIrish
Disclaimer: Revolution belongs to people not me.
A/N: This is quick little one-shot is for The Good Ship Charloe's Summer Lovin' Fanfic Event. This is also part-Fix It because I never did complete my story for that challenge last year. (Sorry). Mostly it's just an excuse to write Charloe, smut and HEA. Because why not? Charloe is the best ship to ship on the Revolution Sea, imho. Big thanks to my pal Lemon who always comes up with these things to keep the interest up on a non-canon ship from a now defunct show. She's a busy gal so it means a lot for her to take the time to organize all this.
The scorching hot Texas sun beat like an unrelenting drum declaring war on their comfort. Even the modicum of shade provided by their tree cover wasn't enough to make them unaware that it was bitching hot out in the heart of summer. Humidity had taken up residence in Texas the last week and it was times like this that Bass sorely missed the power simply for the convenience of air conditioners. He could handle the heat, but not when it started feeling like the air was a hot pool you had to wade through. Bass was singing a song in his heart for winter.
"I don't see any Patriots do you?" Charlie asked from beside him.
Charlie never complained about the heat. Probably because she had no memory of comfort or luxury. But then again Charlie just never complained. She sucked it up and got the job done. She had focus and drive. It was one of his favorite things about her. It had been what had drawn him to her in Philadelphia when she stared down the barrel of a gun daring to be shot. Her courage was terrifying.
"No," Bass agreed. "I think Miles got some shoddy intel."
It was hard these days to find Patriots. After the first year after declaring war on the Patriots the former United States government was difficult to locate anymore. Officially they had been defeated but there were still a few groups around that thought they had what it took to stage a coup on the Texas government. Bass, Charlie and Miles had come back from Bradbury, Idaho the broken survivors of another war. They hadn't known what to do with themselves because everyone was gone. Connor, Rachel, Aaron, Priscilla, hell even Neville was dead. All that was left was those three.
Bass had gone to Mexico for a time and tried to drink his pain away but the pain was still there accompanied now by loneliness. He'd gotten back on his horse and returned to Willoughby. Miles and Charlie were still there but Gene was gone—heart attack a few months before. It became an unspoken decision to continue to hunt down the Patriots because if nothing else the three of them knew how to make war. They'd carried on that way for a while; eventually even being hired by the Texas government in the eradication of any remaining Patriot on Texas soil—and unofficially on other soil too. But those missions were much more covert.
Those had also become a lot less frequent in the last year and their trio had really been pared down to a duo since Miles had met Louise. Lou was only five years older than Charlie so they were friendly first. But the second Miles and Lou had met it was like lightning struck. Charlie had been glad that Miles hadn't been completely broken by her mother's death. They never talked about Rachel's "deathbed" confession about Charlie's paternity. There really was no need. Ben had raised her; but Miles had had a hand in molding her too. Besides Ben was dead and Charlie really didn't need a father figure these days. Not that Miles exactly knew how to fill that role anyway.
But he was going to have to figure it out. That was the reason why this excursion—like so many of their recent ones—was a two-person operation instead of three. After a whirlwind romance, Lou had ended up pregnant and she was due to pop any time now. Miles hadn't wanted to leave her this close to her due date—something that Bass was adamant about too—but they also couldn't afford not to catch these few Patriots they'd heard rumor of.
Intel said the group would be recognizable because a rather tall red-haired man would be with them and he was the leader of the group. But their stakeout beside the road had yielded no results. Bass was close to saying "Fuck it" and picking up and heading back to Willoughby. As though she could read his mind, Charlie's hand snaked out grabbing his wrist to hold him still. "Sssh. I hear a wagon."
Sure enough Bass could hear the rattling of the wooden wheels on the dirt road after some concentration. He smiled, proud. Charlie was good. Damn good. Of course, she had the gift of youth on her side and the magical ingredient of all the experience he and Miles imparted on her. Bass took the binoculars and zoomed in once he saw the wagon come around the turn in the road.
"That's them. Ginger is at the reins," Bass told her. "Three total."
"You want me to play decoy and you attack or reverse?" Charlie asked.
"You play decoy. I'll take the guy in the back first," Bass told her.
"Got it," Charlie said and gathered up her stuff and ran down the road a ways. She got around a bend and started walking back towards Bass making it seem as if she was a traveler on the road headed towards the Patriots.
As expected, the red-haired leader pulled the wagon to a halt as Charlie also stopped. Her jog had deepened her breaths, making it appear as if she had been walking for a while in this blistering sun.
"Hello. What's a young lady like you doing alone on this road?" Ginger-head asked.
"On my way back home after making a trip to see some family," Charlie said.
Ginger-head eyed her crossbow strapped around her shoulder. She patted the strap acknowledging his gaze. "Can never be too careful. Plus I was hoping to catch some game on my way home. But it's so damn hot even the animals aren't moving."
Whatever Ginger-head was going to say in reply was cut off by the commotion of Bass jumping onto the wagon trailer and slitting the throat of the man in the back. Charlie grabbed the knife on her belt and threw it into the throat of the man sitting beside the leader while simultaneously throwing herself onto the wagon. She ripped the knife from his gullet and buried into Ginger-head's guts at the same time Bass' machete pierced through his heart.
For one second Charlie and Bass locked eyes over the body. It was a stare that said a thousand words. Expressed a thousand thoughts and feelings. Then the moment broke.
All the movements of a well-oiled machine. It was almost getting boring the kills were getting so easy. Whatever thrill they had originally got out of still fighting against the Patriots had begun to wane. No matter the number of deaths they doled out they could never bring back the ones they loved.
"These kills are getting so easy it's like we're barely fighting new recruits forget about Patriot Cadets," Bass commented.
"We've been wiping them out for a while now," Charlie said. "We've got to be scrapping the bottom of the barrel. Likely these were just fools too stupid to give up on a dying cause."
"Worlds full of that type," Bass muttered. "All right. Let's get rid of the bodies. And good news is we won't have to walk in the heat. We can take this wagon back home."
"Too bad it didn't have a canopy," Charlie muttered as she jumped down and pulled one of the bodies off the wagon. "But beggars can't be choosers."
They thought about lighting a pyre but worried it'd turn into a wildfire it was so dry. So they suffered through the sweat and dirt of a mass grave and covered the bodies in a shallow covering of dirt. It may or may not be enough to keep the animals away from the corpses but neither Charlie nor Bass could bring themselves to care much. Their chests were heaving and their clothes soaked with sweat.
They easily agreed to hold off on traveling back to Willoughby and instead set out to find the nearest body of water. They threw their belongings into the wagon and climbed up onto the front seat. As per usual Bass stole the reins before Charlie had a chance to. She glared at him but then realized the effort was too tiring and closed her eyes instead.
An hour later they reached a river and Charlie would have wept for joy if her body had the moisture to spare. As much as she wanted to jump in, Charlie refrained. She refilled canteens and she and Bass guzzled like water was going out of style. They made sure the animals were taken care of too so they didn't overheat in this Texas sun.
Bass pulled his shirt over his head and reached for his belt buckle. He gave Charlie a look daring her to say anything as he stripped. Charlie cocked a brow at him and pulled her shirt off. "I'm not afraid of you, Bass."
"You never were," Bass commented. "You were always fearless."
"That's not true," Charlie argued. "There's been a lot of things I've been afraid of. Nobody's without fear."
"Impossible. I've never seen you show an ounce of fear." He was untying his boot laces and tugging the worn leather shoes off his aching feet and onto the ground.
"Just because you're afraid doesn't mean you can do nothing," Charlie corrected.
"Tell me your fears."
"I was afraid I'd never see Danny again after Neville took him. I was afraid to fly the first time we went in the helicopter. I was afraid in that bar," Charlie admitted with a solemn look to him. He nodded in understanding. "I was afraid when Jason attacked me."
Bass stepped closer into Charlie's space even though both were in different stages of undress. "Those are all old fears you overcame. I'm talking about what scares you now."
Charlie didn't have all that much experience with boys. There wasn't much to choose from in Sylvania Estates. She'd had a few hook-ups, such as Jeff and Connor. Jason had been the most serious experience since she had marched out of Sylvania Estates. But even with her lack of know-how even she recognized the inherent flirting in his words.
Charlie had a fear. It was the end of the limbo she and Bass had been hanging in for so long now. To admit to it and be rejected would be humiliating and crushing. To acknowledge it and explore the connection between them would change everything. She didn't know how they'd talk to Miles if they changed the dynamic between them. For so long it had been easier to just cruise along and every once and awhile get close to the line but never crossing it.
Charlie decided to push back and even do a little flirting to see how far Bass was willing to go this time. "I don't know, Bass. Why don't you tell me you're most afraid of?"
His steely blue eyes gazed unflinchingly at her. The tension between them as hot and piercing as the unforgiving sun. Then it snapped. Bass snapped. Charlie snapped. Bass closed the distance between them and claimed her lips with his own. Charlie tried to memorize the way his lips felt against hers—full but slightly chapped from the sun and heat. His taste was dark with a tinge of whiskey. Charlie focused on the brush of his fingertips on her bare flesh as he wrapped his arms around her body to pull her in closer. His hands weren't smooth but rough with use and hardened with callouses. The scrape of them across her flesh created goosebumps.
The break of the kiss startled her. Reminded her that they didn't typically live in a world where they acted upon their desire. But the burning look Bass gave Charlie rivaled the sun and she gave a single nod and that was all it took. Bass crashed his mouth against hers again; with great dexterity he unsnapped the clasp of her bra and pulled it down off her and threw it on the ground. His lips enclosed one exposed peak, somehow making it tauter with his ministrations. Every flick of his tongue or gentle suck with his lips pulled deep inside of her.
Everything inside of her was screaming Now. More. Now. Now.
As Bass focused on her breasts, Charlie reached down and easily unbuckled the pants of a distracted Bass. She was pleasantly surprised that he was commando at the moment. She dug her fingertips into the curve of his ass and then reached around the front of him and stroked him.
The feel of her hand on his cock broke Bass's single-minded focus on Charlie's sensitive nipples. His head pulled back and he moaned low, "Fuuck."
Charlie couldn't suppress the grin that broke out on her face and nor did she want to. She applied more pressure on his throbbing dick and watched as Bass held his breath—the pleasure was too extraordinary for simple words.
"Damn it," Bass snapped as he pulled her hand off him with great regret. Then he was peeling her pants down and slipped two fingers into her folds to find her wet and needy. The feel and scent of her was overwhelming and he needed to be inside of her right now. Charlie toed her shoes off and kicked her pants off the rest of the way. It was a joint act of getting her wrapped around his hips. She grabbed his neck and he boosted her up by her naked ass. He walked backwards until they reached the side of the wagon, keeping one hand on the wooden frame so Charlie wouldn't hurt herself, and in one solid motion buried himself into her heat.
This heat was sweet and heavenly. It was glorious and the kind that Bass never wanted to get out of. Unlike the hot Texas sun that continued to shine down unrelentingly on his exposed back. The mewling sound Charlie was making in his ear was driving him nuts. He thrust deeper and harder and she begged for more.
"Oh God Bass," Charlie said as she knocked her head against the wagon side and her inner muscles clenched around his dick that continued to thrust inside of her. The sensation of her orgasm and the rush of more wetness tipped Bass over the edge. He pulled out quickly—and with some regret to not finish inside Charlie—and stroked himself to completion onto the ground. Charlie's hand snaked around his cock to finish him off and the second her hand had touched his flesh he'd started to release.
Bass chuckled after as he leaned over Charlie, locking her in between him and the wagon, holding himself up by his arms. She gave him a half-grin in return. "That was a long time in the making," Bass admitted.
"Too long," Charlie admitted. "Wasted time not having orgasms."
"Please, Charlie. I've lived with you steadily for a long time now. You think I don't hear you at night touching yourself?" Bass said. "Tell me. Were you thinking of me as you made yourself come?"
She nipped his lower lip with her teeth. "Just like you were thinking of me. I'm not the only one with no secrets here."
"Is that what this is? A secret?" Bass inquired.
Charlie shrugged. "Well I'm not going to broadcast in the town square or anything as I don't see how it's anyone's business but ours."
"We both know someone who will feel differently about that," Bass reminded her.
"I don't think Miles is in any position to judge about who is with who," Charlie said. "He was with my mother when she was Ben. Now he's with Lou and she's nearly my age and was my friend first."
"So am I with you now?" Bass asked, taking note of her words.
"Do you want to be?" Charlie threw back at him.
"The way I figure it we spend nearly all our time together anyway," Bass said as a way to deflect what he really wanted to say. The feelings he knew intuitively she understood because she just knew him that well. She knew what he was thinking or going to say before he'd even say it. "And I don't want to sneak around behind Miles' back. I'm too damn old for that shit."
"Uh. So am I. Being an adult an' all I don't need anyone's permission," Charlie gently reminded him. "So I guess we'll just keep spending our time together then."
"I suppose," Bass said with a big smile. "I guess you're not that hard to hang around with. And somehow you've managed to get me to fall for you. So I guess it makes sense."
"I must have some dark magic to make you love me," Charlie teased as she taunted his lips with soft, light touches.
Bass pulled away. "It's not that hard to love you, Charlotte."
"You too, Bass," Charlie said. The look on his face as she admitted to loving him and not just being in lust with you twisted her inside. It was a wondrous look that belied his forty-plus years and made him see far more adolescent. She kissed him with all the feelings she possessed and later he laid her on the grass and made slow love to her.
They stayed in their little piece of heaven overnight, making love several times. When daybreak came they started their return to Willoughby. Upon arrival they learned that Miles and Lou had welcomed a son, Dylan, the night before. Eventually they all got out of the war-making business as within the year Charlie and Bass began their own family. The three lone survivors of a secret war spent the rest of their lives not in the business of death and battle but rather in life, family and happiness.
A/N2: As always, thanks for reading and if you'd like to leave a comment it's always appreciated. Happy Summer! : )