Safe Haven

Sitting in a grungy bar, somewhere in the middle of the wastelands, elbow propped on the bar, chin in his hand, Bass sits listening to the bartender go on and on about the night the power came on.

She's pretty enough he supposes, in that dry, harsh climate of the wastelands way, looking her over as she drones on. Sometimes, and only sometimes, he misses the pale, creamy skin of the women in the Republic. Thankfully one set of thighs looks much like another when your face is buried between them.

"Out of nowhere, the power flips on. That Wurlitzer over there roars to life, plays "Ramble on' for, like, four whole minutes, and then just goes dark. People cried. They said it they said it was like hearing the voice of God. You want to know where I was. Passed out. I missed the whole damn thing. Story of my life. What about you? Where were you during the surge?" She asks finally taking a breath.

"Jill, right?"

"Yeah."

"No offense, Jill, but trust me. The last thing I want to talk about is the power."

"Well, I'm sorry. What do you want to talk about?"

"Never said I wanted to talk."

He wakes to the smell of frying eggs and ham as the sun shines through the ratty curtains hanging above the cracked window. Pushing himself up, he swings his legs over the side of the bed taking a moment to rub at his eyes and comb his fingers through his hair before reaching for his pants.

"So where are you headed?" Jill asked pushing the contents of the skillet on two plates.

"Nowhere in particular, just trying to find a friend."

"Yeah? Lotta people pass through here. Maybe I've seen him."

"She, actually." Bass says as he finishes tying his boots. Standing he reaches into his back pocket pulling out a piece of paper and unfolding it. He holds out the wanted poster with Charlotte's name and likeness on it.

"You a bounty hunter?" Jill asks looking between him and the paper.

Bass shakes his head. "No. Just a friend of the family trying to find the girl before she gets into more trouble or worse."

Jill takes the paper from his hand studying the likeness before handing it back. "Looks like a girl who was in here a few weeks ago. Wanted to know where she could find a steady job. Pointed her towards New Vegas."

"But she was okay when you saw her?" Bass asked searching the woman's face for any kind of deception.

Jill shrugged. "Hot, dirty and tired of living, but she was breathing when she walked out of here on her own two feet."

~New Vegas~

"I'm here to tell you the good old days of television are back, ladies and gentlemen.
We have the world-famous David Schwimmer right here in this very tent performing live for you. That's right, ma'am. You heard correct. The last surviving friend is here this evening to perform, for your viewing pleasure"

Monroe bobbed and weaved his way through the crowded streets of New Vegas headed towards the fight tent. He'd made a few discreet inquires when he arrived in town and was told that the girl on the poster was fighting under the name Franny Goldsmith.

The crowd was going wild as he entered the tent making his way through the spectators, sucking in a breath when he saw her.

Her hair was away from her face in a French braid, the ends tucked under to give her opponent the smallest target possible. Dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a black sports bra, he realized she was barefoot. Covered in sweat, she was easily beating the taller, leaner woman she was fighting with moves he would have recognized anywhere.

Miles had taught her well.

He ducked back behind the man in front of him as she turned in his direction waiting for the other woman to pull herself up off the ground. The woman managed to rally herself for one last punch before Charlie put her down. Spitting out a glob of blood next to the woman's prone body, Charlie skimmed the crowd with her eyes before walking away.

He hung around waiting for her to return to the tent watching as a golden-haired man, a bit taller and broader than himself, joined her. He made sure to keep a tent full of people and tables between them watching the man paw her arm as they walked to the roulette wheel, chattering in her ear the entire time.

Scanning the tent he saw someone else who appeared interested in her. Making his way closer to the man, he recognized all the signs of a bounty hunter. Shit. Like it wasn't gonna be hard enough to convince her to return to Texas with him already.

He watched as she placed some diamonds on the table making her bet. When the ball came to a stop and the dealer called the number he knew she had lost by the look on her face as her head snapped around to see for herself. She had turned to walk away when her companion grabbed her arm, swinging her back around to face him, pulling her up to his chest.

Bass didn't know what Charlie said to the man but he carefully released her and took a step back. Charlie eyed him for a moment and then headed out of the tent. Bass watched as the bounty hunter followed her out and then trailed the both of them.

She entered a rundown travel trailer sitting along a few other trailers and fifth wheels. It was only a few seconds until a flame leapt to life inside. The bounty hunter kept watch for over an hour before he decided that she wasn't going anywhere and hightailed it off, probably to go get backup. Bass let loose a string of curses. He had hoped that he was going to be able to ease into this. Instead he was going to have to be about as subtle as a freight train.

He paced back and forth for several minutes, finally deciding that it was going to have to be the direct approach or nothing. With the threat of bounty hunters on their tail he needed her on her feet and moving.

Marching up to the trailer, he knocked and waited. He could hear shuffling and then the lock on the flimsy door being released.

Opening the door, Charlie looked straight into the face of a ghost. She started to slam the door in his face when he caught it with his hand calling out, "Miles sent me!"

She swung the door back open leaning against the door frame. "And why should I believe anything you say?"

"Because there's a bounty hunter gathering up all his friends to come here and take you in."

Charlie straightened as a shocked look came over her face. "A bounty hunter? But I haven't done anything."

Bass pulled the wanted poster from his pocket to show her. "You were born, Charlie. Evidently that's all the excuse these bastards need. We need to go and we need to go now."

Charlie looked between him and the paper trying to decide where her best chances lie. "And Miles knows about this" She asked.

Bass nodded. "It's why he sent me, Charlie. If you want to live, come with me," Bass said holding out his hand.

"My stuff."

"Get it now. We don't have much time."

With a sharp nod of her head, Charlie disappeared into the trailer while Bass kept watch outside.

Handing him her pack, she was strapping on her crossbow when an arrow went soaring by slicing through her bicep, causing her to cry out in pain and surprise.

Grabbing her around the waist before she fell, Bass kept a hold of her as they made a run for it.

They stopped once, long enough for Bass to rip the sleeve off his shirt, wrapping it around the bloody gash on her arm, before pushing on.

"Where are we going, Monroe? We can't spend all night wandering the desert. They'll eventually catch up with us." Charlie gasped as Bass drug her along.

"Someplace safe."

"What are you talking about? There isn't anywhere safe in New Vegas."

"There is if you know what you're looking for," he said pointing to a brightly lit building in the distance.

"What is it?" She asked leaning back into him as she sucked in oxygen. Between the earlier fight, her injury and their mad dash into the night, she was fading fast.

"A Catholic Church."