Dancing on my own

*set right after Bass catches Charlie and Connor together, before the fight in New vegas

The music wound around her, pulling her limbs like a puppet into sinuous shapes. She watched the women around her, their fluid movements, their carefree abandon, their curved skin peeking from gaps in strange materials, bright colours grabbing her attention. She had never worn clothes like that. They were not clothes designed to blend in, to become faceless, and she had no need of them. Her life was not to dance with pretty boys, and drink sweet nothingness to forget the next day. Her life was to fight, to run, to kill... her life was only to survive.

She felt warm hands close around her hips, and jerked forward in surprise, her hand already slipping to her knife belt, before she felt a familiar voice brush against her ear.

"Relax, it's just me" Conner whispered into her hair, and she let the tension drain out her shoulders, while biting her lip to avoid the annoyance she felt at his presumptuous handling of her. True, she reminded herself, she had invited it, she had initiated, and now Bass Junior had ideas about their relationship, ones she would have to disabuse him off sooner rather than later. She stood stiffly as he caressed her hips, and tried to sway her into dancing against him.

What the hell, she thought, just this once. Just this once to be one of those girls, girls who laughed and joked, teased boys with mysterious smiles, and thought about which clothes might suit them best. Girls with silly crushes. Girls with childish dreams. Girls with a future.

Closing her eyes, she let her head fall back, her torrent of burnished golden hair heavy to her waist, brushing against Connors chest as she covered his hands with her own, and mimicked his movements. She felt stiff, awkward almost as she moved her hips, swaying them, and tried to relax her body.

"Kid, you need to check on the horses, they're not where you said you left them" Monroe's low voice pulled Charlie from her daydream, the one the music had wound around her, her fantasies of another life, where she went home to a mother and a father, where there were no secrets, no lies and her hands were not stained with blood.

"Now?" Conner asked impatiently, and Charlie bit her lip to hide her smile over his petulant tone. She glanced back to see Monroe glower down at his son a moment, before adding,

"Yes… now. We aren't here… for this… In case you've forgotten" he ground out, his eyes barely straying to her. Conner grumbled, and took his hands from her hips, and turning, striding out the bar.

In his wake, Charlie and Monroe watched him go, moving through the crowd. Charlie watched until he was out of sight, before turning back to the makeshift dance floor.

"Well, are you coming?" Monroe asked her suddenly, his voice gruff, and she glanced curiously up at him.

"I think I'll stick around a bit… who knows when I'll get the chance to… dance like this again… it's fun" she added lightly, seeing him finally turn to her, his head cocked to the side, his eyes finally meeting hers. His look was indecipherable, she thought as she watched him, noticing then the way his fists flexed at his side, his tension palpable. He had been strange to her since he had found Conner and her in the aftermath of their impulsive outdoor adventure.

Now, his blue eyes stared into hers, and she found no room for lightness of teasing there. His look was searching, searing, and she met it unflinchingly, as she always had.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were seriously trying to piss me off" he said, his eyes challenging her to disagree, baiting her.

"Don't be ridiculous... I don't think about you that much" she said softly, honestly, stepping closer to him as more people crowded around them, their bodies pressed together, the heat in the air between them thickening. She didn't add that she usually went out of her way in order not to think of him much, dark and jagged thoughts that left her confused and upset. He smiled a little sadly at that, his eyes continuing to watch her every move.

"I hope you know what your doing… with Conner" he said finally, stepping closer to her, though blue flickers of fire still staring down at her. She smiled a little, and shrugged.

"It doesn't matter, does it? Any of this... it's meaningless. We are all gonna be dead in a few months, if we are lucky" she said, and was surprised as she felt his rough calloused hands close around her shoulders. His face was close to hers now, so close, and she found it hard not to look at his stubbled jaw or the flash of white teeth when he spoke.

"Do you really think that?" he asked, his face taking on that fascinated look that it got whenever he was confronted with true fearlessness, or power. Much like the look he had given her when they first met, a look of admiration, or wonder, that someone could accept their fate so completely. She nodded slowly.

"Don't you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. His eyes looked into hers a moment more, before moving across her face, as though she was a puzzle he longed to solve. He nodded slightly as his eyes continued their path down her neck, following the lines of her hair. As they were pressed closer together, he moved his hands from her shoulders to her hips, naturally adapting to the smaller space, and she felt her mouth go dry as her body came into contact with his. He finished his silent perusal, and looked back to her, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he spoke quietly, so quietly she wasn't sure whether she had imagined it or not.

"And Conner is who you want…" he breathed, and she felt her skin prickle up her arms, her whole body tingling for an instant, and saw his eyes trail over her exposed collarbones and throat, taking in every reaction of her body. The music washed over them, heady and throbbing, the singer's voice was raw and full of longing, the drums rhythmic, making her blood pound.

The heat of the room, the lack of air, pressed together in the candlelight was making her head light.

"What I want… is someone to teach me to dance… just like people used to, before the world fell apart…" she managed, proud her voice sounded so unaffected by the man standing before her. She felt Monroes' hands tighten on her hips a moment, as he opened his mouth to speak, she shook her head suddenly, quieting him.

"Just for tonight… I want to be the girl who dances… not the girl who runs... not the girl who kills" she whispered, and he frowned at her words, something like concern flitting through his eyes as he watched her intently.

Swallowing thickly, she eased around, turning her back to him, copying the couple next to them, who were swaying to the music in perfect sync. She pressed her back against him, and pulled his hands more firmly onto her hips, his fingers brushing the skin exposed between her shirt and low riding jeans.

"Charlie" his voiced sounded pained as she let her head fall back against his hard chest, and she slowly started to move against him, as she saw others doing.

"Please… just this once…" she replied, and held her breath as a long moment passed while he stood motionless.

Then, all of a sudden, his arm was wrapping around her middle, and she was bent backwards, her feet almost leaving the ground, as he pulled her against him, his jaw against her temple, she felt the beating of his heart in his chest.

And then they were dancing, his hands were moving over her waist, roaming her hips and brushing her hair from her neck, replacing it was the scratchy stubble of his jaw. She felt the world dip, and blur, before refocusing again. His body fitted against hers perfectly, and together they moved in unison, his strong hands directing her.

She found herself being turned, and then there was his face, just in front of her and she found it hard to look up from his tanned neck, yet it was hard to resist the pull of his gaze.

"I wish the world was better for you, Charlotte... I really do" he murmured, pulling her closer, so she was circled by his arms, her head locked into his gaze.

"Why do you call me Charlotte sometimes, and Charlie too?" she asked, almost breathless. A muscle in his jaw tensed and he took a deep breath, one she felt echo right through her, as the heat of his body seemed to burn through her shirt.

"Because, sometimes... I have to remind myself of who you are..." he said quietly, his eyes speaking volumes to her in silence.

She heard those words, and felt as though those dark and jagged dreams, those tangled and writhing thoughts she fought so hard to keep hidden, were spilling to the surface.

She pulled back, distanced herself a little, saw the open easiness of his face drop away, saw him start to think he had revealed too much, too soon, upset her, or worse, disgusted her. He closed in on himself, his arms crossed, his face hardened as he looked at her, waited for her scorn. She bit her lip as she considered his words, before surprising him by leaning in, placing her hands on his neck and gently pulling him toward her, only stopping when her lips were brushing against his ear.

"That's a shame... because sometimes... I wish you'd forget" she murmured, and without waiting for his response, her blood roaring in her ears, and cheeks flushing, she turned, and started through the crowd, sliding from his suddenly grasping hands, and demanding fingers. She could feel his shock, radiating behind her, feel his curiosity, as she slipped past the dancing bodies, and lust flushed couples.

She didn't look back.