Author's Note: My intention had been for this to be kind of angsty and dark, but evidently I'm incapable of angsty and dark. It is about revenge… a little. More than that, it's about a blossoming friendship between two people who bond over whiskey… a shared love for one person… a shared hatred for another. Charloe, obviously. :)
Bass is knocking back a glass of whiskey at the little Willoughby bar where he goes when he wants to drink and wants to be left alone. He's glowering into the bottle that sits in front of him. He wants to get drunk, but he's not even close yet. He pours another glass.
"What's wrong with you?" Charlie asks, plopping down on the bar stool next to him. She motions for the guy behind the bar to bring her a bottle as well, tossing some diamonds his way as payment.
"Nothing. Why are you here?"
"Don't be such a dick, Monroe. You aren't the only person who wants a drink after a shitty day."
Bass notices that Charlie sounds as pissed as he is. He looks at her closely, noticing her eyes are puffy and there are red tear stains on her cheeks. Shit. He sighs loudly. "Okay. Why is your day shitty?"
She glares at him. "It's my birthday."
"Aren't you a little young to be freaking out about your birthday?" he asks.
"I'm not freaking out about my birthday. My Mom pissed me off. It's not really about my birthday at all."
"Oh." Bass understands how Rachel can make anyone's day shitty – maybe more than anyone else does; but he never knows how much he can talk to Charlie about that. "Well happy birthday Charlie."
"Thanks." She chokes out before standing up, grabbing her bottle and bolting for the door. Clearly she's crying again.
"Fuck." He mutters.
He should just sit here and be thankful he's alone again.
He should just sit here and drink in peace.
He should just sit here.
He stands, grabbing his own bottle before following her out the door. "Fuck."
She's moving fast and he just barely catches a glimpse of her as she rounds the street corner. He jogs to catch up, not even sure why he's compelled to follow. He slows when he sees she's reached her destination – an old overgrown playground behind what once was the elementary school. She sits on a swing, facing away from him. He walks her way slowly, watching as she opens her bottle and takes a long drink.
He settles into the swing beside hers. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not to you."
"Well, I'm the only one here." Bass is frustrated. He wants to help but damn if she isn't making it difficult. He decides he's going back to the bar. He stands and has walked a couple steps in that direction when he hears her speak again. Turning, he goes back and settles into the swing he'd just left.
"I think I hate her. I don't just dislike her. I hate her." She sounds tired.
"Oh." Bass feels wildly uncomfortable suddenly. Nobody hates Rachel more than he does, but he's caused enough strife to Charlie's family. He doesn't want to add to whatever this is.
"It's okay. I know you hate her too." Charlie sniffs a little and takes another drink.
"Why do you think YOU hate her?" he asks, not bothering to comment on his own feelings in this matter.
"Well, like I said – it's my birthday. I knew she wouldn't remember. She never does. Probably because she left after I'd only had eight of them and that was a long time ago." Bitterness drips from every word. "Anyway, Miles remembered. He brought me a bouquet of daisies this morning, told me happy birthday. It was sweet."
"Miles always did like birthdays."
She nods a little, "Anyway I was in a great mood. It was a nice way to start the day. I went over to their house to say thanks one more time and of course she was there. They were talking and didn't hear me come up and I overheard them." Charlie stops talking, staring blankly across the playground.
"So, what did you hear?" he prods her out of her reverie.
Charlie takes another swig from her bottle before diving in, "Miles was reminding her it was my birthday, and she said she knew, but that I didn't like my birthday and she didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing. Miles was surprised and said he was pretty sure I liked my birthday just fine. Then she started talking about Danny and how much she loved celebrating his birthday. She went on and on about the different parties she threw for him when he was little. Miles asked what kind of parties she threw for me. She said I didn't like my birthdays even when I was little. She didn't really remember any parties. Miles was kind of shocked and said something like 'what little kid doesn't like birthdays?' and she got all defensive and said she was busy with work and had to focus on Danny."
He can tell the story isn't over, but he already gets it. No wonder she's pissed.
"I always knew she loved him more. She wasn't mean to me or anything, but most of the time it was like I wasn't there. I didn't remember about the parties though until I heard them talking. It was all so long ago, you know?" She glances quickly at Bass before barreling on, "When I was six I wanted a party. All my friends got to have parties and I told her I wanted one. I wanted a Hello Kitty party. I asked every day for a month. Mom finally said fine. They'd throw me a party. You know what kind of party I got?"
Bass shakes his head, a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Power Rangers because that's what Danny liked and she didn't want him to feel left out." Charlie takes another deep drink. "I never asked for another one. I guess that's why she thinks I don't care."
"I don't know what to say." He frowns, taking a sip from his own bottle.
"You don't have to say anything. This isn't new. I'm just tired of it. I loved Danny too but he's been gone for a long time. I thought eventually she'd act more like a Mom to me. I don't think that's ever going to happen. I'm done. He's dead and he still gets all her attention - even on my birthday."
He can't defend Rachel. To Bass, this is just another example of what a soulless bitch she is. He bites his lip to hold back comments that would not be helpful. Instead of saying what's really on his mind, he changes the subject. "How old are you anyway?"
"Twenty-three." She answers. Looking at him curiously. "How old are you?"
"Um," he hesitates.
"You don't remember?" She's smirking a little, and he's glad to see the tears are gone. "Old age must suck. They say the memory is the first thing to go."
He frowns. "I know perfectly well how old I am."
"Well?" she asks.
"Forty-five." He shrugs, not meeting her gaze. When she doesn't say anything, he glances back at her. She's appraising him carefully, looking him up and down. He starts to feel uncomfortable again. "What?" he asks.
"Forty-five looks good on you I guess." She chuckles, taking another drink. "When is your birthday?"
"Couple months from now."
"So in a couple months you'll be twice as old as I am. That seems kind of weird."
"Tell me about it." He mutters. Bass barely remembers being twenty-three. That was a life time ago. It's hard for him to imagine that he was about her age when she was born.
"So why were you in a bad mood? Nobody forgot your birthday."
He doesn't say anything for a while, just sways softly in the swing. "Your Mom."
"Damn. She's just a ray of sunshine today."
"Not today. Every day. You're mad at her. You'll get over it. I really do hate her Charlie." He looks down at his bottle before tilting it up and taking a sip.
"But something must have set you off today. What was it?"
Bass sighs, "Miles and I were supposed to make a trip to Hannibal next month to meet with the new Plains Nation president. It was going to be like an ambassador trip for Texas. We've been making plans for weeks, working out all the details with Blanchard's office. I was looking forward to some time with my best friend. We've been doing a lot better ever since we kidnapped the Patriot President, you know?"
Charlie nods. "So what happened? Not going now?"
"Your Mom pitched a fit. Said if I went along she was coming too. Said we can't be trusted together. We all got into a big screaming match. Finally Miles agreed to go without me. He always picks her over me."
"And she always picks Danny over me."
They sit in silence for a while; both feeling dejected by the people who are supposed to love them the most. After a long time, Charlie looks at Bass, "So, are we like friends now?"
"Me and you?"
"There's nobody else here." She says with a shrug.
"Yeah, I guess so. Unless you still want to kill me. That would be a deal breaker on my end." He smiles a little, but is truly curious where Charlie's head is on that subject.
"I haven't wanted to kill you since Texas did it. The universe gave you a second chance. I figured I'd give you one too. Don't see that changing anytime soon." Charlie takes another sip.
"Then yeah, I guess we're friends."
Charlie stands, swaying just a little. "I think that's good. I can use a friend right now." She looks really sad and he doesn't know what to say to help.
He stands too, and pulls her into a hug. "We all can." He says quietly against her hair. After he feels that she's calmer, he pulls back and looks at her. "You okay? I'll walk you home."
"I'm fine, and thanks. That would be nice."
They walk in silence. Bass leaves her at the door of her small house. Charlie watches as he walks away. She feels like something has shifted under her feet. The world is tilted a little. It feels like a good tilt. She has a friend who gets her, even if he is old. Charlie lets her gaze dip to his retreating ass. Hmmm, he doesn't really look all that old. She chuckles, feeling the full effect of all the whiskey she's drank tonight. She would never admit it out loud, but if she's honest with herself, she's always thought Monroe was pretty sexy. She wonders what he thinks of her. Probably just thinks she's a kid. That's okay. As long as they can be friends it's good enough. Good enough for now anyway.
They started out as enemies. Now they are friends. Someday, who knows? Right now, she's just glad to have made it through the day without falling totally apart.
"Happy birthday to me." Charlie says as she falls into bed, asleep before her head hits the pillow.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A pattern develops as these two unlikely friends find common ground in their taste in whiskey, their love of Miles, and their hatred of Rachel. At first they pretend to be surprised when they bump into each other at the same bar at the same time every evening. After a couple weeks have passed, all pretenses are gone. They are officially drinking buddies now.
"You're late. Everything okay?" Bass asks as Charlie slides into her usual bar stool.
She shrugs. "How are you?"
"Not so good. Gonna be homeless by the end of the week thanks to your bitch mom." He's pissed. She can tell, but he's mostly keeping it in – trying to control his temper. Charlie is honestly not sure if this is healthy or not.
"How does she have any impact on your living situation?"
"She's having my trailer condemned. She went to the new city council. They had a meeting and everything. I got my notice today." He's frowning as he takes a drink.
Charlie tries to hold it back, but she just can't. A loud bark of laughter erupts.
"It's not funny." He growls.
"Oh come on. Your place is awful. I think this one time, I agree with Rachel." She shakes her head, still laughing.
"It was good enough. I've been there for six months. Never had a problem."
"Except for the rats you mentioned the other day? And the leaky roof when it rained?"
"I'm not telling you shit anymore. You don't get to use stuff I tell you against me. That's breaking some kind of friend code." Bass's frown fades. Charlie's smile is contagious.
"So where will you stay? Are there any available park benches on Main Street?" Now Charlie's laughing so hard, tears have sprung up in her eyes. He joins in.
When they are calm, they both take drinks from their bottles and share a comfortable silence. Finally he answers. "I don't know. Usually I'd crash with Miles, but obviously now that he lives with her, that's not going to happen. And now that things around here are finally coming around, I can't just squat in an empty house. Sometimes getting civilization back sucks."
"You can stay with me. I have a couch that you are welcome to." Charlie takes a big drink. She does not meet his eyes.
"You serious?" Bass asks.
"Yeah. As long as you don't bring the damn rats with you and you have to promise to clean up after yourself. I won't live in a pigsty and I'm nobody's maid."
"Okay." He says, watching to see her reaction.
She turns to him and grins. "All right then. We'll be roommates."
"Man, your Mom is going to hate this." He can't help but smirk a little as he thinks about what an understatement that truly is.
"She's going to think we're shacking up." Charlie chuckles. "It will kill her."
"This will make me sound like a jerk, but I am okay with that. Maybe not as much fun as actually killing her, but it's close enough." Bass smiles.
"It will be fun to watch her squirm. Revenge is a dish best served cold. She won't see this coming." Charlie takes a big drink.
"Revenge, huh?"
"Yeah. I think she's done enough. Time to have some payback."
Bass looks at her questioningly, "And us pretending to shack up is revenge enough for you?"
"Well, it will be the biggest bang for our buck." Charlie grins as she takes another drink. "Seriously this will be fun. But I can't figure it out. Why did she bother with getting your place condemned in the first place? Wasn't living there enough punishment for you?"
"Oh shut up." He's shoves her shoulder playfully.
"Really though, she hates you so much. Why is that?" Charlie is watching Bass, as if the answers are written somewhere on his face. "It's not just the Danny and Dad stuff either. It's deeper than that. It's personal." She watches him, but he doesn't respond or look her way. She continues, "It feels almost," she hesitates. He is raising his bottle to his lips when she finally finishes her thought, "intimate."
Bass freezes. He recovers but not before Charlie sees the truth in his expression.
"Oh noooo." she says, her voice dripping with disgust. "You slept with her!"
He closes his eyes. Damnit. There goes his new living arrangement. When Charlie doesn't say anything more, he looks up and meets her gaze. The expression on her face is a perfect mix of disgust and morbid curiosity.
"WHY?" she asks. "Why would you do that?" Charlie shudders visibly, clearly as disturbed by the thought as he is by the memory.
"It was a long time ago. She was not with your Dad or Miles. It was just once. It was a mistake."
"Obviously." She is shaking her head, still staring in disbelief. Then her expression changes to thoughtfulness. "Not with my Dad or Miles and it was a long time ago?" she tilts her head curiously.
"So?" He wishes the floor would just open up and swallow him whole. This is the single most humiliating conversation he's ever had.
"OH." She's come to some realization.
"What?" he asks frowning.
"It was when you had her locked up, wasn't' it?" her eyes are wide. "Monroe, you didn't make her sleep with you, did you?"
"Jesus Charlie!" He stands, grabbing his bottle. He's done with this conversation.
She is following him in the time it takes her to grab her own bottle. He has a long stride and she almost has to jog to keep up. "Well?" she asks, a little breathless. "Did you force her?"
He comes to an abrupt stop. "No. Shit. Of course I didn't force her. What the hell?" he runs a hand through his curls. "You don't want to know the details, but trust me I didn't force her to do anything." They start to walk side by side. The pace is normal now. Their destination is the park. It's now where they end up almost every night. She doesn't say anything. The silence feels heavy, so he continues, "Listen I know you'll be surprised by this but some women – a lot of women actually - find me attractive. I've never in my life had to force a woman to do anything. Ever."
He doesn't even notice that she's stopped at first. When he does, he turns back. "What?"
"What do you mean by that?" Charlie is looking at him strangely. "The part about me being surprised?"
He shrugs, "I know you think I'm old, but I'm not that damn old Charlie. Jesus." He starts walking again. He stops when he hears her laugh.
"What now?" he yells out frustrated.
"I don't think you are old Monroe. I do think you are stupid, but not old." She turns away toward her street, still laughing. "Bring your stuff tomorrow. We'll get you settled in."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Charlie's house is small which suits her just fine. It sits just across the street from Miles and Rachel's larger place. They'd picked these residences at first because at that time Charlie was still spending a lot of time with her Uncle and Mom and it seemed convenient. These days she's too busy working as an archery and survivalist teacher at Aaron's school. That or leading hunting parties, or drinking with Monroe. She doesn't visit the house across the street often anymore. Lately she kind of forgets how close they are.
Monroe doesn't have much to move in. He rides up on a borrowed wagon, unloads three boxes and a big duffel bag. Then he takes the wagon back and returns on foot. By the time he gets back to the house, Charlie has already brought an old dresser from a back closet into the living room. It sits next to the couch which will be his new bed. She's piled up a couple sheets, a pillow and a blanket on one end of the couch.
"I don't use this room for anything. Not like I sit around watching tv. So it will just be your room." She shrugs. "Sound okay to you?"
"Yep." He smiles at his new space. This is definitely a step up from the trailer. He won't admit it to Charlie but she'd been right. That place really was awful. Rachel did him a favor this time, even though he's sure that was far from her intent.
"Now we can just drink here at the house. No need to go to the bar." She smiles at him and leaves the house to go to work. He unpacks; stowing his belongings in the drawers or on the mostly empty book shelf that sits along one wall.
After he's settled, he takes a little tour. The kitchen is tiny. There is an old green Formica topped table with three chairs that don't match. He moves down the little hallway. There is a bathroom. Miles has rigged up some basic plumbing for Charlie. There is no running water, but the drains work so water can be brought in from outside for baths. The last room is behind a closed door. It has to be Charlie's room. The closed door probably means he's supposed to stay out, but his curiosity gets the best of him and he opens the door. Bass isn't sure exactly what he had expected, but it isn't this. Where the rest of this little house is filled with cast offs and mis-matched everything; Charlie's room is something else entirely. There is an old iron bed, which upon close inspection has been carefully sanded and polished. The bedding is crisp and white. On either side of her bed are short wooden tables. Each is topped by a single white candle on a small porcelain plate. She has a worn but beautiful antique armoire that is carefully filled with an assortment of tanks and jeans.
He sits on the bed, and looks around. He imagines Charlie in this space and the image is strangely comforting. He can see why she'd want to keep this to herself. It's an oasis. He accidently knocks over a stack of books sitting on the floor by the side of the bed that must be 'her' side. Bass didn't know she was a reader, but he picks them up and thumbs through the titles to see what she likes. Great Expectations by Dickens; Slaughterhouse Five by Vonnegut; East of Eden by Steinbeck; an ee Cummings book of poetry; and Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Adams. Bass is impressed. This is a pretty great little collection. He's not a big poetry fan, but he's read and enjoyed all of the fiction she has here. He sits the books back on the floor, but they fall over again, so he bends to straighten them back up. That's when he notices another book that has fallen under her bed. He grasps the slim volume and grins when he sees the title. So Charlie isn't quite as obsessed with the classics as he'd first assumed. He never read Fifty Shades of Grey but he remembers dating a girl before the blackout that wanted to try everything in all three of the books. He'd been only too happy to oblige.
He is sitting on Charlie's bed, holding her naughty book in his hands and Bass feels a stirring. It's not new. In fact lately, it's become pretty damn common. Shit. Everything is going so well. He's really enjoying this new friendship he has with Charlie and she's even welcomed him into her home. He can't screw it up by lusting after her, not that she'd be interested anyway. Bass sighs, then carefully puts the book back under the bed where he'd found it and leaves her room, closing the door behind him.
Author's Note: Let me know what you think so far. :)