Miles found Charlie out in the work shed.
She was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall with her knees pulled up to her chest.
Upon hearing Miles enter the shed, she jumped up quickly, brushing her eyes with her fingers.
Miles took a look at her silently.
"You okay, kid?" he asked.
"Yeah, sure, I'm fine," Charlie replied.
Miles watched Charlie for a moment in silence. A female crying over Bass. It was a sight he had seen a thousand times over. Prior to the Blackout, Bass had left broken hearts in his wake at every turn. He had been a true charismatic womanizer and Miles had always been the one to try and smooth things over with the females Bass had left behind. Miles would always try to make up some excuse to make them feel better, never quite sure why he had taken on the responsibility. He had chalked it up to wanting to protect his best friend's image, despite Bass' worst actions.
This case, it was his niece and this didn't sit well with Miles. He was not sure how deep the interaction with Bass and Charlie had gone at this point. He was only hoping it was some unrequited crush that Charlie had formed toward Bass and that Bass had paid no notice...but he wasn't so sure.
"I was just out here, getting some of my knives," Charlie said, shaking Miles from his thoughts as she reached over the work table to retrieve the knives.
"I'm going back to the house, you should come back in when you're finished," Miles said as he opened the shed door.
Charlie could feel tears stinging her eyes, so she only shook her head, not facing Miles.
The Willoughby Tavern was lively that night. Many of the townspeople had come out to enjoy some music and the free flowing spirits that the bartender was serving up. Seated at the bar, Charlie took a shot of whiskey. She winced as the liquid burned her throat, hoping it would begin to numb the sullen feelings she had experienced that day. She was almost ashamed at the effect that Bass' absence was having in her life. It was serving to prove to her how significant his presence had been, and not just as an ally. Charlie had truly felt safe with Bass. He had saved her life numerous times and they had formed a comfortable truce.
"Hey pretty lady, can I buy you another drink?" a man who looked to be in his early 30's took the seat next to her at the bar, introducing himself as Vincent.
Now having enjoyed six consecutive shots, Charlie was starting to feel a little less inhibited, so she readily accepted the offer for another drink.
Vincent ordered two more whiskey shots and they took them together.
After another drink and some small talk, he put his hand on Charlie's knee.
"Why don't we take this somewhere a little more private?"
Charlie smiled through her drunken haze, "maybe another time."
Vincent leaned in and grinned, "no, I think now will do just fine."
Charlie's smile faded. "Thanks, but I'm really not interested."
Vincent grabbed her arm and pulled her forcefully against him.
At that moment, someone came up behind him, "I think the lady said she was not interested."
"...and who the hell are you?" Vincent turned around to be knocked out cold by a right hook to the face.
Charlie's head snapped back to look at the man, instantly recognizing his voice. Bass.
Charlie jumped up from her seat at the bar.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she nearly shouted.
"It looks like I'm saving your ass...again," Bass said, his arms leaning on the bar.
Charlie rolled her eyes. "Please, I can take care of myself. I had that completely under control."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Bass smirked.
Charlie stood up from her seat to stand face to face with him.
"...and what the hell do you care anyway? You're supposed to be gone, remember?"
Bass just watched her, not sure how to reply. She was right, he was supposed to be gone. Having left earlier that afternoon, he should have been miles away from Willoughby, and yet, here he was, back here again.
Charlie smirked, the alcohol making her a bit more brazen. "Yeah, Monroe...I've realized one thing about you. You're a lot of talk."
She picked up her glass and drank down the rest of her whiskey in one swig. She set her glass down and began to walk out of the tavern.
Bass wasn't far behind, exiting behind her.
Charlie walked up the street quickly. The curfew had been lifted but it still wasn't encouraged to be out on the street after dusk.
Bass caught up to her, pulling her arm and pushing her into a nearby alley.
Charlie's back hit the brick wall and she found herself standing nose to nose with Bass. He turned to peer down the alleyway. He had spotted a few troops further down the street and had pulled Charlie along with him into the alley so they wouldn't be spotted.
"Ya know, that was pretty ballsy, showing up in the tavern...after all, you are supposed to be a dead man," Charlie said, smirking at him again, her eyes showing the amount of alcohol she had actually consumed.
Bass still continued to watch down the alley, trying to avoid meeting her eyes in an attempt to ignore their extremely close proximity. At that moment, Charlie made a move that shocked both of them. She leaned in and planted a kiss on his neck. Bass immediately snapped to attention and searched her face for an expression.
"What the hell was that?" he asked quickly.
"Well, if you have to ask, then clearly it didn't have the desired effect," Charlie gave him a devilish grin.
That had to be the alcohol talking. Sure, Bass had thought at certain moments that he had caught her watching him just a moment longer than she should. Hell, if he were being honest, he knew he was watching her a lot more than he should have been...
"You're drunk, Charlotte," was all Bass could muster as a reply.
Charlie reached her arms to settle around his back, pulling him a little closer. "...so, does that mean you don't want me to?"
Bass looked at her confused, "want you to what?"
"This," with that Charlie closed the space between them and kissed him with a passion that left them both breathless.