Poison and Wine
Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I still don't own Revolution or David Lyons. But I really wouldn't mind if someone felt kindhearted enough to send Mr. Lyons to my home to play nursemaid for me during my convalescence. Anyone? No? Darn. Can't blame a girl for trying.
Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for all the well wishes on my upcoming surgery. My fingers are crossed too! I've just finished the rough draft of chapter 6, so I wanted to give you guys another update. This chapter is a bit longer than the last two. I hope that makes up for it (possibly) being the last update in a while. More at bottom.
Both bad and good things came to them as they neared Abilene. First, they lost the trail. Second, Bass received a full pardon from the Texas government that came with a note that the fighting wasn't going as well as they had believed it would and to hurry their butts back to Austin. Third, they kissed for the first time. The event didn't leave either of them particularly happy.
"Goddamn it, Charlie," Bass snapped when she broke the news that she'd lost Connor's trail.
Things hadn't been exactly acrimonious between them since their argument outside the shack. In the week since, they've exchanged a handful of words that were all business. The tension was starting to fray Charlie's taut nerves and his outburst made them snap. "Well if you think you can do better, Monroe, by all means, be my guest."
"Maybe if we'd been following my lead, we'd already have found Connor," Bass argued.
She quirked her brow in a sign of Are you for real? "Have you forgotten Brownwood, where you argued that Connor's trail had turned south and you were ready to haul ass to Mexico?"
Bass said nothing because he had no argument. He'd been suddenly convinced that Connor would return to Mexico and beg for Nunez's mercy and back into the cartel. Charlie had argued against it. Why would Connor have traveled so far north of Willoughby just to turn south now? As it was, Charlie was able to talk with someone who recognized Connor and found out that he and a man matching Neville's description had headed north with a small group.
Abilene had seemed like the next place that Connor would stop. Abilene had a market where Connor could replenish any supplies. But so far no one they spoke to had seen anyone resembling Connor or Neville's description. They had been asking around for a few hours and had come across nothing.
They had just booked the last two rooms in an inn when they were approached on the street. "Sebastian Monroe?" asked a young man in a Texas Ranger uniform. There was a platoon of Texas Rangers currently in Abilene. They'd been fighting Patriots in nearby Sweetwater. Immediately, Charlie was on the defensive. She realized that General Blanchard, who had returned to the leadership position after Carver had been murdered, owed Bass his life. But technically the state of Texas had convicted him as a war criminal and sentenced him to death.
Monroe for his part seemed bored by it. He was clearly preoccupied with finding Connor. "That's me. What do you want with me?"
"Lieutenant McGraw, sir. I've been asked to take you to Major Braddock over on the base," he informed.
Monroe sighed, resigned. He should have expected this—but frankly Texas doubling down on his execution hadn't really crossed his mind. Especially considering he'd gone out of his way to save the stupid place. He glanced over at Charlie, who looked poised to strike like a snake. "You better go back to the rooms."
"Like hell. I'm going with you," Charlie argued.
Bass turned to the messenger, "Let's get going."
There used to be an old Air Force base west of Abilene. Currently the Rangers were using it as headquarters for the platoon in the area. As they walked through the gate, an old faded sign indicated it was once called Dyess Air Force Base. "Were you ever here?" Charlie inquired.
Bass scoffed. "I was a Marine, Charlie." Even years later, the pride of being a Marine remained.
"Excuse me. How am I supposed to know the damn difference?" Charlie snapped back. She hated when he used pre-blackout things against her. She still didn't understand what the hell the village people meant, or what the hell earth, wind and fire meant, or what "blackout with your cack out" meant either. Though, knowing Monroe, it was probably vile and considering the topic at hand, she could probably figure it out but didn't want to.
The sigh he gave this time was long suffering. "There was the Air Force, the Army, the Navy, and the Marines. There was also the Coast Guard and the National Guard too. But the main branches were Air Force, Army, Navy and Marines."
"Semper Fi," Lt. McGraw said, turning around to look at them.
"Huh?" Charlie said just as Bass said, "How did you know that kid?"
"My grandfather and father were both Marines too," he explained. "Of course, they always said there was no such thing as a former Marine."
"Semper Fi?"
"It's a Marine thing," their escort said.
"It's short for Semper Fidelis. It means 'Always Faithful,'" Bass explained. "It was the motto for the Marine corp."
"That's nice," Charlie commented. "I like that. Too bad the militia didn't have something like that. Sure is better than the branding."
Monroe flinched because he knew all about the mark on Charlie's right wrist. He just didn't know how she had acquired it. If she had been conscripted, word that another Matheson was in the militia would have reached him. He was curious but also terrified to ask. It was just one more thing against her he was responsible for.
They were led into an atrium leading to Major Braddock's office. "Someone will let you into the office shortly," McGraw told them.
"Thank you Lieutenant." Monroe said.
"Good day to you both." McGraw gave a curt nod and left them.
Both were shepherded in quickly enough. Major Braddock was older than Bass and mostly gray. He wasn't as tall and much stockier. "General Monroe, ma'am," Major Braddock greeted them.
Monroe almost did a double-take at the title. It had been a while since anyone had referred to him that way. It was quite a shock for it to be delivered by a Texas Ranger Major. "Major Braddock. This is Charlie Matheson. What did you need to see me for?"
"I heard that you were spotted in Abilene."
"Obviously," Monroe said dryly.
"Rangers have been given orders by General Blanchard," Major Braddock spoke on.
"Let me guess…" Bass started to say. But what he heard next he never could have guessed.
"You've been given a full pardon by the Texas government as a thank you for stopping the assassination of General Blanchard as well as bringing to light the duplicity of the U.S. Government, also known as the Patriots. You are to be referred to by your rank—which is General to the Monroe Militia and President of the Monroe Republic." Major Braddock held out papers for Bass to take. "It's all down there in much more fanciful terms. Do you understand, General?"
Monroe nodded. "Thank you for the message."
"There's also a letter here for you from General Matheson," Major Braddock held out another paper.
"What?" Charlie blurted out.
Bass opened the letter and read in Miles' horrible chicken scratch penmanship.
Bass,
By now you've learned that Texas has pardoned you. You're a lucky bastard. But I guess I am too because they pardoned me too. Apparently doing the right thing earns you gratitude. They've deputized me and now everyone keeps calling me General Matheson. It's annoying. Anyway, the fight against the Patriots isn't as easy as we thought it was going to be. Apparently they had more troops coming up from the south and more placed throughout the country. Also, they had more re-education centers than we could ever dream of. These super-soldiers are lethal. Blanchard has reports that the Patriots were using mustard gas up in the Plains and down in Mexico.
Frankly put, we aren't going to win this as fast as we thought. Especially with Governor Affleck keeping her head up her ass and not engaging the Patriots. She sent word to Blanchard she won't be involved with a Texas war. She'll get involved because Blanchard has it on authority that Patriots are moving towards California. She can't sit out forever. But she'll give up lots of ground by sitting around playing tiddlywinks in the meantime.
I'm hesitant to share this next bit with you, but I'm going to anyway. Blanchard has reports that there are parts of the Militia still intact up north. There is possibly a contingency of them in New England cut off from the rest of the Republic because of the fallout. Blanchard's spy reports are slower coming in from the Republic. Further reports indicate that the Patriots have taken over practically all of Georgia. The truth is if we want to destroy the Patriots entirely, we're going to need the Militia, Texas, and California. Hell, even the war tribes of the Plains (if there any left because they've spread throughout there as well).
The point is to hurry up and find your kid and get your asses back to Austin. We're gonna need you both in this fight.
Take care of Charlie. Don't let anything happen to her. Or yourself either.
Miles
P.S.: Tell Charlie she owes me.
Bass handed the letter off to Charlie to read. "What can you tell me Major?"
Major Braddock's face turned even more morose. "General, it's not going well. These Patriot assholes—begging your pardon ma'am—apparently had contingency plans in place. They are swarming us from the south and they are moving down through the Plains. It won't be long until they've reached our northern borders. Each Ranger Company has platoons trying to eradicate the Patriots within our borders. They have a lot of fire power and have twice used chemicals. They gassed Crystal City. There were no survivors. Company D lost over 500 Rangers."
"Goddamn," Bass said. His remorse was truthful. It was always hard to lose soldiers like that—whether when he was one or when he was the leader of them. He might have been good at killing, but Monroe hated war. It was sometimes necessary but he still hated it. It seemed he had unwittingly found himself in one again.
He understood what Miles' letter had left unsaid about the Militia. Whatever men remained would need to be rounded up. What Blanchard expected of both him and Miles was to get back north and take command again to start up another front on the Patriots. He wondered how Miles truly felt about that. He had not been the biggest proponent of rebuilding the Republic. But now that it was necessary to defeat the Patriots—would he feel differently? The reason was legitimate. It was what made them want to start it all to begin with: to help people. People needed protecting against the Patriots. Monroe understood this because he saw so many of his own failings in the things the Patriots have done.
These thoughts occupied him as they returned from the base. The legitimacy of the Patriot problem was warring with his desire to find Connor. He believed Connor would be the key to fixing the past. But here he had an opportunity to make amends and do things right himself. Yet would he? He'd never set out to become a monster. It was like something flipped in him—like his own light had blacked out when Shelly and the baby died. He didn't want to be that guy who would destroy cities and families on a selfish whim. Families like Charlie's.
He glanced over at her. He didn't want to be that because of her. He didn't know or understand all the things going on between them, all the things he thought and felt about her. But he did know she inspired him to choose better. He could've lied to Rachel in the tower once she gave him the gun. He could've left her and said to hell with Charlie. But he had kept thinking of the girl who placed herself at the end of Strausser's gun, prepared to die in the name of the greater good. She had been captivating. Then in the bar and taking care of her afterwards. Returning in the school. Beside the train. Something about her refused to let him be that person. But whatever it was would it strong enough to stop him when he stood at the helm of the Republic? Miles hadn't been.
He parted ways with Charlie because he needed some time and space to think. He warned her to be careful and watched her enter a bar close to their inn.
Charlie was finishing up her bowl of barley soup when the guy approached her. She had a fleeting moment's déjà vu. She had taken a chance by eating alone, but she wasn't sure when Bass would be back. Charlie understood he needed some time alone. There had been a lot in that letter for her to process. Would he want to carry on the search or return to Austin? Here he was being given permission by the Texas government to reclaim the Republic. She worried how much of Bass would be lost again if he took up the mantle once more.
Her sense of hunger had gotten the best of her. It was nice eating something else besides whatever they could manage to cook over open fire. She was hoping that no one would try to drug her this time. Abilene wasn't some nasty, backwaters dump. There was also the part of her that knew Bass would come looking for her eventually if she didn't return to the inn; he would look out for her. Despite her best efforts, that knowledge made her feel warm and protected. Not that she needed or wanted protection; but there it was.
The man who sat next to her was a blacksmith apprentice. His name was Jace Potter and he had red hair, jade green eyes and he was a flirt. When he had taken up the stool next to hers, Charlie had felt mild annoyance and had prepared to brush him off. But he had a charming smile. Even better was that he didn't have blonde curls and cerulean eyes, which had been dominating her thoughts of late.
Also, by entertaining his flirtation it dissuaded anyone else in the bar from approaching. So instead of shutting him down, she'd let him think he stood a chance. If she was a normal girl, he probably would have. He was sweet and smart. He didn't put on fake charm, or slick lines, he just talked with her. She should feel something towards him, but she didn't. She tried to convince herself it was too soon after what happened with Jason. That Jace sounded too close to an abbreviation of Jason's name. While she would always regret her and Jason's tragic end, that wasn't why she couldn't help but find his red hair and green eyes as anything more than appealing in a detached sort of way.
The truth, that maybe the whiskey she'd consumed was allowing to rise to the surface, was that she wasn't attracted to him not because he wasn't Jason but because he wasn't someone else. Someone with messy, curly blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and a low gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine.
Charlie would never understand why she had an attraction to Sebastian Monroe. How could she feel that for a guy she had vowed to kill because he'd destroyed her family? Those feelings had been burning deep in her months ago. She had agreed to Miles' request she follow along to New Vegas, but the entire time in the wagon she had been acutely aware of Monroe's proximity. Then nearly everyone they met in New Vegas had alluded to something going on between them. Which she would have brushed off as ridiculous if it weren't for the desire she had unwillingly been feeling. Desire that she wasn't entirely sure was one-sided. Sometimes in their silent, eye-only conversations, Charlie thought she saw something else burning in his eyes.
Like when he had returned for her in the school and she had said, "You came back." The stare he'd given her had been so intense it was like he was trying to say something that he would never be able to express in words. It had caused shivers to run the length of her body that had nothing to do with the imminent threat of death by the Patriots.
But then he had sent her out of the tent. He had totally brushed her off for Duncan, even though he had never denied the accusations that she and he were together. Not only had he disrespected her as someone involved in the plans to recruit more fighters, but he had disregarded all the weird, mixed signals between them. Charlie had no doubts as to what kind of negotiations Monroe had undertaken with Duncan. She'd heard the rumors about his womanizing ways.
What was worst of all for Charlie was that even knowing that, even knowing that he was negotiating with Duncan, it still hadn't curbed the ridiculous attraction she felt towards him. So either she had been wrong about all the signals and silent messages between them or Monroe felt they didn't matter at all; either way, she had felt compelled to do something to make sure the unwanted feelings died.
What better way to keep Monroe out of reach than to sleep with his son?
It had felt all wrong even during the act. It hadn't been bad; but it was hard to be consumed with passion when all she kept thinking was that Connor wasn't the Monroe for her. Wasn't the Monroe to soothe the ache inside her, to tame the raging fire inside of her by matching it with his own. She hadn't actually counted on Bass finding them. She had thought his negotiations with Duncan would have taken all night.
The look on his face as he stared at her for the first time after catching her with Connor had wretched her heart. He had looked hurt and betrayed. Dumbfounded, even. She had even thought to herself, Maybe I was wrong…but it was too late. All damage had been done. She told herself it was for the best because even if the attraction wasn't unrequited, it was still inappropriate. It was better this way.
She kept telling herself that later on when they shared drinks at a bar back in New Vegas. The intensity of his stare, the unspoken communication had clearly told her all that she had just cheated herself out of. Monroe had stepped back; he had become coolly detached from her. She was nothing more than a tag along now. She was no longer Bass' partner; Connor was.
She didn't have Miles and she didn't have Bass either.
Without either of them, Charlie had been convinced she would not survive the fight much longer. But she was determined to go out in a blaze of glory. Make her two mentors, both of whom had begrudgingly become so, proud. She couldn't even find it in her to care about her impending death. She just figured it was what it was. Miles would be okay because he had her mom; Bass would be okay because he finally found his son. That train of thought had carried her up to an abandoned office in Austin. There, while her former love nearly strangled her to death, she kept thinking of the one that got away. Charlie thought of Bass and all the things she wished she had said instead. All the things she wished she could do differently.
Then she'd shot Jason and all that disappeared in a cloud of self-hate. Until Neville blew the cloud away with a simple pull of the trigger. But by then it was too late again. She helped Miles' betray Bass and everything that followed had just unfolded so fast she nearly had whiplash as they bounced from one plan to the next. Bass' look at her when she'd stepped out of that old store after destroying the mustard gas had been reminiscent of the same look he'd given her in New Vegas. And then he was gone.
Until he came back and betrayed them right back. And still he managed to save her life again.
All these thoughts were swirling in her head while Jace Potter worked his easy charm on her. So while she gave him some attention, most of it was spent circling around thoughts of Bass. And it pissed her off. After sleeping with Connor those feelings for Monroe had abated some, tempered by the overwhelming shame of what she'd done. Maybe she just needed to try it again. This time not with Connor, not that he was nearby to use that way anyway. Never with Connor after that one and only time.
So she agreed to leave the bar with Jace Potter and led him back to her room in the inn. Once inside, she let sweet Jace kiss her and she tried not to focus on how much she wished she felt the sexy scratch of a beard on her skin. His face was smooth, clean shaven and she forced herself not to regret that. She pushed him towards her bed. He reached down to grab the hem of her shirt when a knock sounded at her door, which was opened quickly without waiting for a reply. "Charlotte—"
She couldn't believe it had happened again. She thanked whatever God there may be that at least she was fully dressed as Bass walked into her room. Of course, if she had been dressed for Wisconsin winters it would have made no difference. Bass' stare stripped her bare. The cold fury crossed his face and he was marching over to them.
Jace Potter no more than got a few minor words of protest out before Monroe threw him out of the room.
"Hey what the hell are you doing?" Charlie demanded when she'd gotten over the shock.
"That's precisely what I was going to ask you, Charlie," Monroe said as he swung back around to face her. "I mean, come on, we're supposed to be finding your boyfriend and you can't even wait long enough to be with him? Not to mention we just found out the war is going to shit and all you can think about is getting laid?"
Charlie's own fury rose up vicious and quick. "Connor is not my boyfriend. So I don't have to wait around for him for anything. Besides, who I sleep with is none of your damn business Monroe."
Monroe's voice went deceptively quiet. "Oh, you think so? Miles' has asked me to look after you and make sure nothing happens to you."
"I'm pretty sure that Miles' wasn't talking about my sex life."
Monroe's jaw clenched at her words. "Watch how you talk to me."
"Like hell I will!" Charlie shouted. She felt like her eyes must be made out of fire because the intensity of her glare was burning her. "You tell me something, Monroe. Why are you so damn hung up on my sleeping with Connor?"
"I'm not," Monroe denied quickly. Too quickly.
Charlie raised a questioning brow. "You've brought it up quite a lot, Monroe, for someone who is not interested. You seemed pretty pissed off when you found us in New Vegas."
Monroe's hands unwittingly balled into fists at the reminder. He swore sometimes that the image of Connor lying down next to Charlie was seared into his brain. Every little reminder marked the brand deeper. "You two were irresponsible. We were there for business."
"How is it any different than you sleeping with Duncan?" Charlie demanded. She regretted the words instantly. She didn't have an image to recall, but her imagination worked wonders. It had been one of the impetuses pushing her towards Connor.
Monroe actually blinked in surprise at Charlie's words, which only made her madder. Did he really think she didn't know what he'd been doing once he had kicked everyone else out of the tent? "I wasn't sleeping with Duncan. I was negotiating with her."
Charlie scoffed. "Yeah, I know just how you were negotiating with her. It was obvious you guys had something going on."
"We did at one time," Bass admitted. "But I was there to buy mercenaries. Not get into bed with her."
The realization that she had jumped to the wrong conclusion filled Charlie with shame and embarrassment. In that moment she realized what sleeping with Connor was all about: she had wanted to hurt Monroe in the way she thought he had hurt her with Duncan. It made her feel dirty. That only spurred more anger at Monroe. "Well how the hell was I supposed to know that? You were all mixed signals. Not telling Gould and Duncan there was nothing going on with us and then kicking me out of the damn tent."
"You held a gun to her head!" Monroe snapped, incredulous. He had never envisioned that Charlie had thought he was sleeping with Duncan at the time. Though he hadn't been sure what to do about it, Charlie had already been consuming his thoughts. He knew he could never do anything about them, but they had also prevented him from thinking of being with another woman. "I didn't think you would be the best negotiator for us."
"She threatened you! What was I supposed to do?" Charlie demanded. She licked her lips as she spoke and something about that made Bass snap.
It was not just that it drove his focus to her lips. Lips that had haunted him for months without ever having the pleasure of touching and tasting. No, it was that Bass realized that she licked her lips and tasted another man there instead. Dark clouds rolled in his head again and he went insane.
He stepped to her in one single stride and crushed his mouth to hers. The shock caused Charlie to gasp and he took advantage of the opening to force his tongue into her mouth. He left no corner of her mouth untasted. He wanted to erase any taste of any other man. Her lips had been so soft, a contrary piece of someone usually so strong, and she tasted like summer. Golden and bright and hot. One hand was up on her neck, fingers splayed to touch her cheek and her hair. The other hand dug into her hip to hold her close to him.
To Monroe's unmistakable surprise, Charlie was kissing him back. After the initial surprise, Charlie had thrown herself heedless into the kiss. His soft lips were complimented by the coarseness of his beard. The two warring sensations sent her wheeling. Her hands moved up to run through his unruly curly hair. The strands were softer than she thought they'd be. So many delicious surprises in this kiss that was never supposed to happen. She tasted faint whiskey and she knew that Bass had found somewhere to drink through his thoughts.
When he sucked on her tongue, she groaned. The sensation made all the heat pool in her center. She nearly went limp into his embrace.
Except the sound had broken the spell and Bass pulled away. His cerulean eyes were dazed, almost uncomprehending. She wanted to smile at him but she didn't think her brain could process thoughts yet. When a pressure built in her chest, she realized she wasn't breathing and gasped out a breath. The sound, the feel of her breath on him snapped Bass out of his daze. She saw how Bass disappeared behind a mask. Monroe was glaring at her but he said nothing. He just left her alone in her room to stew about the kiss and linger over the taste of him on her lips all the rest of the night.
Charlie didn't know why but something in that kiss had branded her more than Monroe's mark on her wrist ever could.
A/N 2: I know this was a lot of internal stuff and not so much dialogue. I did that for two reasons. The first is that it really didn't matter what Jace was saying to Charlie; it mattered who wasn't saying it. It was a way to show how little she actually cared for him. I hope you agree and think it works the way it is (feel free to let me know.) The second, I just couldn't stand to write some other guy trying to get her attention when I desperately want to get these two together in my story. LOL. Miles' letter was my humorous (I hope) attempt at setting up the rest of the story that Charloe will find themselves in (b/c frankly it's still all about Charloe). Question: Did the kiss work for you? I'm never sure when it comes to writing that stuff. Please leave me a review or drop me a PM. Both make me really happy and I'm convinced are helpful to a speedy recovery! ;)
