A/N: My first stab at a Revolution fic. Pretty alternate universe, with some somewhat significant changes to the overall plot of things. First chapter, let me know what you think!
Chapter One
The tent she was in stank. It stank of sweat, booze and seasoned hookers.
Charlie had been to New Vegas once before, but never had she stopped to take in the sights. Let alone the fighting tent that was located smack in the middle. People loved to watch other people beat the shit out of each other, and a smart business man would know where to pop the tent to make the most on his bets.
She didn't like the town much. There were too many people, it was too bright, and she had far too much paranoia in her own head to ever consider settling there. Being raised mostly post blackout had changed her perspective. These people were used to the lights, the sounds, and the excitement of a modern society. They missed it. She simply didn't know it. Technology was a foreign concept to her, for the most part.
A drunk fool of a man knocked into Charlie's shoulder as he stumbled by, knocking her out of her musings. She'd made her way around to the side, towards the back of the tent to eye her target without being seen. She stared at him intently as he moved around the ring, fighting his opponent.
"You like what you see, Missy?" She heard someone speak into her ear.
She turned her body slowly to show she acknowledged his existence, her eyes not once moving from the ring. She spoke soft, but sharp, "The shorter one has quite a bit of…stamina. Who is he?"
"Oh, Jimmy? Jimmy there is our best fighter! Rolled into town about two weeks ago and been cleaning house ever sense. Never saw such profits before him!"
Charlie turned her gaze from Jimmy to her conversationalist. Her eyebrow poised in its normal sarcastic position. Mentally, she laughed. Jimmy was such a plain name. Although, she supposed plain was the point. No sense in hiding in a town like this one with something outlandish. She heard someone talking to her again and broke her musings.
"Bets are closed for this fight, but his next one is in three days – if you plan to stick around, I'd be glad to hold your bet for you." He winked at her, a devilish glint in his eyes. He was stout, pudgy but not fat. He was dressed in a somewhat ratty, but mostly clean, outfit. If Charlie had been there to place a bet, she was fairly certain he'd keep his word.
She smiled her lopsided smile, and cocked her head ever so slightly, "Oh, no bet…but," she paused, pulling a small vial out of her pocket filled with about six various sized diamonds and placed it in his hand. She let her soft fingers brush against his palm as she stepped a little closer to him, "I'd be pretty as a peach if you'd show me where he stays. I'd love to…tend to his wounds after his fight."
The tent owner stumbled on himself a bit, glancing from her to the diamonds. He slid them into his pocket. He was sure she wasn't a hooker. They certainly didn't give up diamonds that easily. Jimmy was a damn good fighter but he couldn't turn down free diamonds from a girl who looked like she just wanted a good lay.
Charlie smiled ear to ear as he muttered, "Follow me." She glanced at the man, taking his face one last time before exiting the tent.
Jimmy fought as if he were doing it for his life. In a sense, he was. If he didn't win, he didn't eat. Diamonds were a more of a commodity post blackout then they were before the lights went out. That wasn't the only reason he fought though. No. He fought to help ease the pain in his own head. The scrambled thoughts of insanity and destruction he'd ended up with over the years. A monster that sought redemption that just didn't know how or where to start.
The man before him was a beast of a man. About as coordinated as a drunk ape, as well. Jimmy made short work of him with only a few injuries to his person. His body was dirty, sweaty and a little bloody. Dark blonde curls were glued to his forehead.
He shrugged off the girls that were pawing at him, while he was stuck in his own mind. He normally would take one…or two, of them afterward but he just wasn't up for it tonight. Whores, whiskey and fighting could only rid you of your thoughts for so long.
The tent owner scrambled up to him as he exited the tent, wiping his face with a towel. "Jimmy! Well done, man!"
A grunt was Jimmy's reply. He held out his hand to collect his earnings and was rewarded with a handful of small diamonds. He pocketed them quickly.
"Tell everyone to leave me alone until the next fight, will ya? I just want to rest." He could see his squabble little home not far from him and it was a relived sight.
The tent owner patted him on his back, "Absolutely Jimmy! But first, there's a surprise for you in your trailer." He patted his back again and ran off before he could hear a disagreement.
Jimmy could do nothing but grunt in utter frustration. If he'd wanted a romp, he'd have found a girl and brought her. Now they were trying to make house calls? If the girl wanted a quick screw, he'd oblige. If only to get her the hell on her way faster.
He opened the door to his well-kept trailer and stomped up the flimsy metal stairs and through the door, shutting it roughly behind him. He turned towards his messy bed and stopped cold.
"Holy shit…" was all he could muster.
Charlie stood in the trailer, back to the door. She'd gotten there, with the help of the bookie, only about ten minutes before Jimmy did. It gave her few precious moments to scour the area for hidden guns and swords – which she found and promptly hid; sneaking a few of the good ones into her pack she had hidden a few trailers over. Once accomplished, she changed her boots and clothes. If he'd any thought of danger, he wouldn't bother stepping both feet into the space before fleeing.
Her clothes were stashed in her back and her boots were placed beside the bed, for quick access. All she had to do was wait.
All he could do was stare at the girl while she left her face obscured from his view, her arms raised above her head as she put her hair into a bun with a chop stick.
If she was any type of hooker, stripper, or just your everyday tramp – she was an accomplished one. He felt his pants tighten at the mere sight of her.
She was lean and tan, and not too tall. He could do nothing but stand in shocked silence as he took her in. She was wearing a simple black bikini and her long legs met the perfect swell of her rear. She had tattoos. A few of them, actually. He mused how she got them as he could tell she wasn't old enough for them before the lights went out. He didn't really care, though.
He took in the large piece spanning her lower back, mixed with flowers and vines. She moved just slightly, her hands gliding down her body as she breathed out a soft moan and it brought him back to attention. Literally and figuratively.
The rest was all a blur. He stepped in four more steps, letting the trailer door shut to the side of him. His eyes travelled up, seeing another tattoo across her rib cage.
Two more steps. He was not far from her at this point. Eyes further up her back. He wanted her to turn and show him her face. Surely a body that gorgeous had an equally beautiful face. Hell, even if she didn't, he'd have her on her underneath him on her stomach, screaming his name while he dominated her from above.
He stopped short with a gulp as his eyes finished travelling upward to another tattoo. It was on her left shoulder blade, soft and bright like the rest, as if she just put lotion on. He sucked in air in sudden anger. That tattoo…
A simple piece yet filled with so much meaning. A thick black M surrounded by an equally thick black circle. The infamous symbol to the Monroe Militia and the identifier of his very own name he'd burned off his own forearm to prevent discovery.
"That tattoo. The M! Who the fuck are you?"
She chuckled and it angered him even more. "Answer me!"
The girl sighed, and even angry his pants got tighter as he imagined her taught breasts heave. She spoke softly, "Sebastian Monroe. You'd really talk to your best friend's niece like that? Such dirty language."
She turned and his eyes widened in absolute horror.
"Charlotte?"
