The next morning dawns sunny and beautiful, dimmed only by the brilliance of Bass' smile. Finding 'Annie' has done wonders for his attitude, though he berates himself for not having asked for her real name.

It's just a minor detail, he tells himself as he shaves. He can't even remember the last time he did this. His first day on the new job, maybe? Since then, he's let his beard grow unchecked and frankly, he's starting to look like a homeless man. He shaves his neck but hesitates before lathering up his face. The beard isn't so bad... He settles himself for trimming it up a little and making it look more like he intends for it to be there rather than he's just to lazy to shave it off.

He wonders vaguely what 'Annie' will think of it.

He frowns at the reflection of the little bulge of fat just above his waistband and gives the scale on the bathroom floor a sideways glance. Instead of torturing himself with the stupid thing, he goes in search of some running clothes. It's about time he got out and saw Chicago anyway. He's lived here for over three weeks and hasn't even been through the museum he works at yet.

On his way out of the building, he runs into an old lady checking her mail. The woman, June, talks his ear off for ten minutes about how adorable her cat Fergus is. Then she spends five minutes complaining about how the building manager still hasn't gotten the elevator fixed. Then she starts complaining about the guy on the second floor that plays his music too loud, all the while giving Bass curious looks. He assures the woman that he isn't the loud music type and excuses himself, claiming he's late for an appointment.

Bass takes a moment outside to just let the sun shine down on his face, warming him from the inside out as a smile comes to his lips. It's been months since he felt this good.

Chicago, as it turns out, is more than just windy. It's beautiful. The buildings, the people. Alright, maybe he's a little high on his own happiness, but at least he is happy. He jogs a few blocks and then cuts through a park and finds himself back on his own block. When he strips down to hop in the shower, Bass glowers at that little bulge of fat and vows that it will dissappear.


"What are you all smiley about?"

"Hmm?" Bass murmers as he changes into his uniform shirt.

Archie rolls his eyes and pokes him hard in the chest. "I haven't seen you smile since the day we met and now all of a sudden you won't quit. So what happened?"

"Nothing happened. I'm just happy, that's all."

"Mhmm. Whatever you say, kid."

Bass takes his turn rolling his eyes, after Archie turns around, and tucks his shirt in.

The lasagna Mrs. Archie sent is really good, and he's chowing down on it with a goofy smile on his face when Miles calls to check in on him. Bass double checks that Archie is asleep before answering.

"Hey brother, what's up?"

Miles chuckles. "Well aren't you happy."

"What is it with everyone today, am I not allowed to be happy?"

He hears a voice in the background, probably Nora, and Miles shushes her. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Babe. Hang on."

Bass frowns. "Are you busy, 'cause you're the one that called me."

"Huh? Oh, no. Nora's just excited. She wants to talk to you."

There's the sound of the phone switching hands and then Nora's chirpy voice comes through. "Hey, so you're doing better? I hope you aren't staying inside all the time, because that's not good for you. I- Hey! Miles, give me back the phone!"

Bass can't help but laugh while he listens to their muffled argument.

"Give me back the phone. I was talking."

"Yeah, but you're smothering him. Give the guy some room to breathe."

"I'm just trying to help," Nora snaps.

"I know Baby." Miles says soothingly. "But you've got to relax. Give him some space."

Nora mutters something under her breath that Bass can't quite hear, and if it weren't for the fact that they were talking about him then he would would probably find this whole conversation hilarious.

"Are you two done?" He asks in a bored voice.

Miles at least has the decency to sound a little ashamed. "Sorry. We're just both glad to hear that you're doing better."

"Yeah," Nora adds, her voice a bit further away. "We just want you to be happy."

Bass rolls his eyes. Of all the women on the planet, Miles had to pick the insufferablely happy one.

"Why are you sitting on my lap?" Miles whispers, but Bass hears him perfectly through the phone.

"I wanna hear what he's saying." Nora explains.

There's some more muttering and some shuffling before Bass hears the unmistakable feedback that comes with being put on speakerphone.

"There, you happy? Now you can hear him."

"Yes I am, thank you." Nora answers happily.

Honestly, it's a wonder that those two can even put up with each other.

"So what's going on Bass? What's got you in a good mood?" Miles asks.

Bass doesn't answer right away. He hesitates on the edge of telling them about 'Annie.' On one hand, they would probably be glad to hear that he's making friends. But on the other hand, they would probably misinterpret the whole thing and think that she's his new girlfriend.

"It's nothing. I'm just happy, that's all."

There's silence on their end of the line for a moment and Miles says, "bullshit. What's is it, did you get laid or something?"

"Miles," Nora scolds.

"What?" Miles asks innocently. "That makes every guy happy."

Before a full blown argument can break out, Bass cuts across them. "No, I didn't get laid."

"Oh."

But the mere thought of 'Annie' is enough to bring a smile to his lips and Bass can't help but share his news. "I met this girl..."

"I knew it!" Miles shouts triumphantly.

Nora talks over him. "Ooh. Is she pretty? What's her name?"

Bass sighs. "I, uh, I don't know."

"How can you not know her name?" Nora asks.

"Is she hooker?" Miles asks, then grunts in pain. Nora's kind of known for having a lot of power behind that tiny body.

"Why don't you know her name?" Nora asks again.

"It's complicated."

"What the hell does that mean?" Miles grumbles. It was most likely only meant for Nora to hear.

Bass sighs. "Look, it's not what you guys are thinking. This girl, she... she needs help and she's too afraid to go to the police. So I've been trying to help her."

"Trying?"

"Well it's not easy. She's so afraid that she won't even tell me her real name."

He can hear the two of them whispering but now they're doing it quietly enough that he can't understand them. Finally, Miles sighs and Bass knows that it's the sound of Nora winning the argument.

"Listen, Bass. Are you sure that getting involved with this chick is a good idea? I mean, you can't help someone unless they want to be helped and it kind of sounds like your girl isn't interested."

"She is," Bass tells him firmly. "I know that she wants help. And I know that she knows, she needs help. I just don't think she knows how to ask for it, so I'm doing it for her."

There's a moments silence where Bass considers those words. Of course she wants help. Why else would she have come back? The insinuation behind Miles' words, that it's about more than just helping her, grates on his nerves. This isn't about sex. Sure, she's young and pretty, and yeah, he likes her. But that's not the point.

"Hey guys I gotta go. Archie will be waking up soon and I can't let him catch me on the phone." He feels a little bad about lying, but he doesn't want anymore of their negativity ruining his first good day in months.

"Alright Bass, we'll talk later." Miles' voice clearly indicates that this conversation isn't over.

"We love you!" Nora adds quickly, but Bass hangs up before he can reciprocate. At the moment, he isn't sure he wants too.

Their phone call has officially burst his happy, little bubble and Bass can't help but resent them for it. Months of depression, hiding in his own home, going so far as to change his identity just so he could feel safe going outside again. It's been one hell of a year, and not in the good way. He can't believe that Miles and Nora, the two people who have been worried about him the most, would be willing to squash what little happiness he's managed to find.

By the time Archie wakes up, Bass is in a sour mood. He snaps when Archie asks what is wrong and shoves his half eaten lasagna back at the older man without so much as a thank you.

He wants a drink. No, he needs one.

He cools off a little during the walk over and mentally slaps himself for being so mean to Archie. The old guy was just trying to help and he hopes that his slip up won't make things awkward between them.

The bar door swings open and he slouches inside, noticing that something is off immediately. Jeremy catches his eye and waves for him to come behind the bar and follow him into the back.

"What's going on?" Bass asks as soon as the bar is out of sight.

"Your girl called," Jeremy says in a low voice. There's no discussion necessary. They both know they're talking about 'Annie.'

"What? Did she say why?"

"She asked if you were here and when I told her you weren't she sounded pretty upset. I tried to tell her that you usually come by later, but she wouldn't listen." Jeremy shakes his head, concern covering his face. "I think something must be really wrong. She almost sounded like she was in pain."

Bass knows that both of them are thinking about the substantial bruise she'd had on her face when they first met her, both of them wondering if this time could be worse.

"Did she leave her number?" Bass asks, praying that she's alright.

"No, but I've got caller ID." Jeremy pulls a slip of paper from his pocket. "I knew you would ask for it."

Bass nods, barely paying any attention to the bartender as he pulls out his phone and begins to dial. He makes his way back through the bar and out front so he can hear better before pushing send. It rings once, twice, and a third time before she answers and even then, she doesn't say anything. Bass can hear her heavy breathing though, so he knows she's there.

"It's me," he says into the silence.

There's a sharp intake of breath before her shaky voice comes through. "How did you get my number?"

"The bar has caller ID and you didn't block your number."

"Right. Duh." She tries to laugh, but Bass can hear the pain in her voice.

"What's wrong?" But she doesn't answer. After a minute, he says, "you can tell me. It'll be alright, I promise."

When she finally speaks, it sounds like she's talking through clenched teeth. "It's my shoulder. I think I dislocated it."

Bass ignores the 'I' part of that sentence, his mind automatically conjuring up images of a faceless man tearing her arm out of its socket. The picture makes his blood boil, but anger isn't what she needs right now.

"Everything's going to be OK. Where are you?" She's quiet again, so he adds calmly, "I can't help you if I don't know where you are."

She sighs. "I'm by the alley where we talked yesterday. I'm in my car."

Bass automatically turns in that direction and picks up his pace. "I'll be there in a minute, just stay there." He waits until he's rounded the corner and can see her red Range Rover before he hangs up the phone. She opens the driver side door as he approaches and slides out of the car clutching her left arm to her chest.

"What happened?" Bass asks, but isn't surprised when she bites her lip hesitantly. "Forget it. Let's just get you to a hospital." He moves forward with the intention of helping her back into the car but she backs away from him shaking her head.

"No, I can't."

"You can't just leave your arm like that, we need to get you some help."

"No. They-they keep records," she whispers as if people might be listening in on their conversation. "If I go in there again then people will start asking questions."

Bass considers mentioning that that would probably be a good thing, but the fear in her eyes is too fresh for her to listen to reason. Instead, he asks her what she thinks they should do about her shoulder.

"Well... I was hoping that maybe... you could do it." She says, her cheeks going slightly pink.

Bass shakes his head. This girl is going to be the death of him. "Well I'm not going to do it out here. Let's go back to the bar, I'm sure Jeremy will let us use one of the backrooms."

"No, I can't go in there again. If my hus-" She stops herself before the word is fully out of her mouth, but the damage is done. Now there's no question in Bass' mind about who he should be plotting to kill. "I don't want to get in anymore trouble," she says quietly.

Bass nods in understanding. He certainly doesn't want her in anymore trouble either. "Alright, well what about my apartment? It's not far from here and it's late so there won't be any people hanging around to see us."

She considers it for a moment and then nods before moving to get back in the car. Bass stops her before she's in the driver's seat. "I'll drive," he tells her.

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrows at him. "I drove here. It'll be fine."

"Yeah, I'm not putting my life in the hands of a one armed, pain addled driver."

She rolls her eyes but heads around to the other side of the car anyway. Bass has to roll the seat back before he can even get in, she's only like five feet tall, and starts the engine with a small smile.

"You just wanted to drive my car," she mutters under her breath.

Bass chuckles. "Well, and I didn't want to die."

They share a smile and spend the rest of the short drive in silence. As Bass pulls into the parking lot of his rundown apartment building, it occurs to him that someone who drives a Range Rover might not like it here.

"I know it's not much," he says apologetically. But to his surprise, she smiles over at him.

"I always thought it'd be kinda fun to live in a big building like this. Especially if you're high up."

"Then you're in luck, 'cause I live on the fourth floor and the elevator is busted."

They climb the stairs in silence. Bass, who has gotten used to the stairs over the past few weeks, laughs when she starts huffing and puffing. "Not so fun now, is it?"

"Shut up. I've got a dislocated shoulder you asshole."

"Right. Sorry."

She snorts and he glances back in time to see her smiling up at him. Once they're in the apartment, Bass sits her down on the edge of the couch and starts poking at her shoulder. She hisses and pulls away from him but he gently steers her back towards him while trying to think of something for them to talk about. He needs to distract her so she'll relax and he can reset her shoulder.

"So are you going to tell me your name now?"

"Huh?" She asks distractedly, still trying to pull away from his prodding fingers.

"Your name," Bass repeats patiently. "After all this, I kind of feel like I've earned it. Don't you?"

She rolls her eyes but nods in agreement. "It's Charlie."

"Charlie? Isn't that a boys name?" He asks as he slowly starts to bend her arm in order to put her shoulder back in place.

She sucks in a deep breath and grits her teeth. "It's unisex."

Bass is too busy focusing on her shoulder to give their conversation much thought. "Sounds like you've had this argument before."

"Only with every guy I've ever met," she huffs, then immediately let's out a groan of relief as her arm slips back into its socket. "Thank you."

Bass smiles in return and looks around the tiny living room at the boxes he's had yet to unpack. He digs around in a few of them and pulls out a sling for her arm.

"You just happen to have one of those laying around?" She asks with a cocked eyebrow.

"Let's just say, I've had my fair share of injuries."

They get her situated in the sling and spend a few seconds in awkward silence. Medical emergency now dealt with, it's becoming increasingly clear that being alone together probably isn't the best idea.

Charlie gives him an embarrassed sort of smile and says softly, "I should get going."

Bass nods, even let's her stand and walk to the door before he stops her. "You know it doesn't have to be this way Charlie. You could leave, be free."

She turns back to him with sad eyes, a bitter smile on her lips. "I wish it was that simple."

"It can be, but only if you let it."

"You don't understand," she says, her voice cracking. "I can't just leave."

"Why not?"

Charlie opens her mouth to explain but stops herself, turning the doorknob and pulling the door open. "Thank you for helping me," she says softly, and then she leaves.

It takes a few minutes for everything to settle down in his head but when it does, Bass can't help but feel angry. Angry with Charlie's husband for hurting her, angry with Charlie for staying with him, and angry with Miles for being right. Maybe he should have left the mystery girl alone. If he had, he wouldn't be beating himself up over a situation that actually has nothing to do with him. He has his own problems, anyway. He doesn't need some girl adding to the mess that's already his life.

But he knows deep down that the next time she comes calling, and he has no doubt that she will, he'll be sure to answer.