A/N: At some point in life, things have to give... Transition is everywhere...

Chapter Text

Monroe couldn't quite pinpoint when things had started to change between them, but over the course of the next week of her recovery they somehow did. Maybe it began with a simple gesture from her – he'd come home from work and found she'd gotten up and cleaned his shack. She'd also gone through the effort of fixing their nightly meal of stew with whatever he'd had lying around. He'd needed to go on another supply run but she'd made the best of what he'd had – the results of which were much better than what he usually managed.

Maybe it began a few minutes later with the slightly embarrassed thanks he'd stammered when he saw her peace offering, or maybe it was the way she giggled at him at the way he blushed when he'd shown his appreciation. Her laughter had only seemed to fluster him all the more.

Whatever it was, they somehow slowly formed an almost domestic camaraderie in the week that followed. They still rarely spoke but instead of an underlying resentment permeating the shack, they shared a more comfortable silence.

She'd been with him just a little over three weeks. After dinner, she'd insisted he rest on the bed for a while. She'd noticed how sleeping on the floor was taking a toll on him. He didn't sleep well as it was, but every night he spent on the floor seemed to make it worse.

She busied herself with sewing the sleeve of his shirt where he'd torn it on the mine earlier that day. She'd watched him attempt to do it himself and had taken pity him when all he'd succeeded in doing was making a few messy stitches that were destined to pull out and bleed on the material.

She took her time mending, waiting for the telltale sound of his light snoring to confirm he actually fell asleep. After she'd finished with the shirt, she padded around the shack, straightening up a little while he slept. She'd initially planned on waking him after a while so she could replace him in the bed, but seeing him there she felt bad for it. He really must have been exhausted.

Not wanting to take his place on the cold floor, she instead shoved him over. He didn't even stir. He just rolled over instead, leaving her just enough room to lie down without them touching. Since he was under the covers, she grabbed the blanket he normally used on the floor. She hadn't had it over her for more than a few seconds before she realized how thin and scratchy it was.

It really started to sink in how miserable their arrangement was for him. With a sigh, she stuffed the blanket in between them to act as a buffer of sorts and pulled the blankets over her as well. She laid there for several minutes, the even sound of his breathing to lulling her to sleep.

When he woke up the next morning it was to the exquisite sensation of a very warm and soft body next to him. He opened his eyes to reveal her hair spilling across the pillow, just inches from his face. He groggily tried to remember how they'd managed to find themselves in such a position. Just then, she squirmed and snuggled closer in her sleep. Before he embarrassed the both of them, Monroe got out of the bed as quietly and quickly as he could.

He turned around to watch her has he grabbed his clothes. With a smile he noticed the way she sought his presence as soon as her body felt the loss of warmth. Shaking his head he headed outside to relieve himself and change clothes in the outhouse. He did the best he could to ignore the reaction his body had to her as he zipped up his jeans, wincing.

Despite waking with the most painful case of morning wood in the history of mankind, he felt pretty good. It had been the first time he'd slept through the night without the benefit of alcohol since he could remember. Adding that to the fact that he'd gotten paid the day before and it was starting out to be a fairly decent morning.

She awoke smiling lazily at him while he cooked a few eggs he'd been given for helping out an elderly widow with her firewood on his way home the night before. He knew she was feeling better and was almost back to her former good health. If he was using his head, he would have left town a few days ago. She had certainly been well enough to get by on her own by then, and he knew the day was coming soon where this fragile illusion would shatter. Soon she'd go back to trying to kill him and he'd go back to trying to disappear. In all likelihood, she would eventually catch up with him again and succeed where she'd failed before – if another bounty hunter hadn't already caught him by then.

That evening when he got home from work, she seemed to be in a lot better mood than he was. Throughout the day all he could think about was her impending departure, no matter how much he tried to shake it from his mind. He knew he shouldn't care so much, but for some reason he'd just gotten used to her presence. He knew that if he really wanted to he could keep her there, but he'd never stoop so low – not with her.

After dinner she'd offered to clean up while he fiddled with the caulking on the window. She'd noticed the day before it was overly drafty. He finally broke the silence. "So tomorrow night, there's this thing in town. It's not a big deal just a little music and dancing – it's apparently tradition for the mines to close on All Saint's Day so the night before there's a party. You know, for Halloween."

"Okay," she said, looking up at him.

Monroe refused to meet her penetrating gaze. Instead he just concentrated on his task. "So I was thinking, maybe you'd wanna go- if you're feeling up to it."

"Sebastian Monroe, are you asking me out on a date?" Charlie couldn't resist the temptation.

He almost dropped the knife he'd been using to cut the old caulking. "No. I, Um… No," he stammered. "I just thought that since you've been cooped up for the past few weeks you'd like to get out, that's all." Don't blush, you will not blush, he silently commanded himself. "Anyway, it's not a big deal so-"

"Yes, I would love to go with you to this not-a-date, no big deal thing - with music," she interrupted, feeling the urge to put the poor man out of his misery.

Monroe tried to hide his sigh of relief, knowing very well he'd handled that like a total dipshit and that she'd miraculously decided to allow him to save face. "Well okay then," he said as he went back to work on the window.

The next day she received an unexpected visit from Mei. "I thought I'd check you one last time," the old woman said as she entered the door.

"What's all that?" Charlie asked as she saw Mei carried more than just her normal satchel.

The woman set down one of the bundles on the hope chest and handed the other to her. "I heard you were planning on going to the party in town tonight. Not everyone around here has something nice to wear, but the ones that do definitely dress for it. Jack didn't want to show up looking like he'd been rolling around in a coal bin all day, so he asked me to do a little shopping for him. He also thought maybe you'd want the option to wear something other than your jeans?"

As she listened to Mei, Charlie unwrapped the bundle. The dress inside was simple to be sure. The skirt was weather appropriate and would hang well below her knees. Still, the deep blue material was soft and was most likely hand dyed. "Please tell me he didn't pick this out," she said as she started to feel a blush rise to her cheeks.

"Of course not," she said with pride. "He can be thoughtful when he wants to be, but he's not that good." The old lady cackled as she recalled the conversation she'd had with the man when he'd stopped by early on the way to the mines. The shops hadn't been open yet and would be closed well before he got off work, due to the party. He'd added something 'nice' for Charlie as an afterthought when he realized that the majority of the women in town typically had at least one nicer outfit in reserve just in case the occasion arrived. Most of the miners would be barely clean at best, but women would always be women.

Mei went about the task of giving Charlie one last checkup, declaring her well on the mend. "I suspect you're more than ready to continue on your travels if that's what you still want to do," she said as she offered up one last gift, a small sliver of soap that she'd made herself. She decided to throw it in for free, even though he hadn't requested it. Like most of the people around here he used the harsh lye for everything from his body to his clothes. Let the girl feel soft and pretty for one night.

Charlie watched the woman thoughtfully. "So the two of you are good friends then?" she asked.

"We're friendly enough, I suppose." She replied. "I know his name isn't Jack Smith, I've known it from the day he arrived. He's hiding from something, but then again so are many people here – that's why then end up in the wastelands; they all want to escape. I know an injured soul when I see one; and I also know a repentant one. He's been nothing but kind to me. He's helped me out here and there when I need it and he doesn't cause trouble like a lot of newcomers do.

"Besides, who wouldn't want a friend with a body and a face like that?" Mei cackled as she opened the door.

Charlie was once again left alone. She sat down and looked at the dress in awe. Her first instinct was to throw it back at him and ask what he was really up to, but for some reason she couldn't force herself to do that. So instead, she brought in as much water as she could to heat up and used it to wash her hair and get herself cleaned up. She made sure to leave enough for Monroe, and then put on the soft blue dress. She'd still have to wear her boots, but all in all she didn't think it looked too bad.

She was just finished getting the snarls out of her hair with the comb she'd found in his hope chest when Monroe came in the door. He stood there slack jawed for a second as he watched her. She stood nervously as she subjected herself to his perusal. After a moment he forced himself to look away. He noticed that she'd left water warming so he could clean himself up, so immediately went to the task, trying to forget the sight of her – stripped to his boxers he felt too exposed to allow her to see what that had done to him.

Charlie politely turned her back so he had some semblance of privacy as he tried to scrub the grime from his skin. Deep down she was a little hurt that he hadn't said anything about the way she looked, but she did her best to ignore that- and the sounds of him trying to wash up. He'd had to refill the basin several times before the water finally started coming back clear and he was taking forever.

When she finally got annoyed with standing there and turned to sit on the bed, he was just pulling on the shirt. The clothes Mei had brought him were second hand, like everything else he owned (he'd obviously spent more on her dress than his entire outfit – which included a newly repaired pair of boots), but they were definitely a step up from his normal clothes.

"Ready?" he asked as he went to grab his jacket, which he'd washed the night before and thankfully did not need to wear today. When she didn't respond immediately, he started to get nervous. He had a feeling she was just about ready to tell him to go fuck himself.

"Why did you ask me to go to this thing with you? What did you hope it would accomplish?" She regretted it the moment it came out of her mouth, but she couldn't help it. She'd been told over and over again that he was manipulative and could lay on the charm in the process, but the longer she'd been here the harder it was to remind herself of that.

He held out her jacket and just looked at her. "For one night, can't I just pretend that I'm a normal guy taking a pretty girl to a dance? Can't you just pretend for one night that you want to go? You can get back to trying killing me tomorrow."

Charlie couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face. "You think I'm pretty?" She turned around so he could put her jacket on her shoulders.

"If that isn't the oddest way to fish for complements that I've ever seen…" he murmured as he led her out the door and into the night. The weather was fairly warm for the last day of October and the party would be able to spill out into the streets. This meant that the bar, which was the epicenter for the event would be less crowded.

When they first arrived most of the men he worked with at the mine had not yet arrived, but the bar was already filling up with the other locals. By the time the music started, however the other miners had started trickle in. He led her around the bar, introducing her to the few people he was friendly with in town before settling near the bar to get them something to drink. She noticed that as more of his co-workers arrived, his hand found its way to her waist more and more often. The contact was brief, but just possessive enough for her to notice it.

As couples filled the dance floor, she began to attract more attention from the younger men, not to mention a few of the older ones as well. Monroe left her side only once. They'd run into Mei and he'd abandoned her just long enough to secure them a table so they could eat. Both women made their way over slowly when he'd found one.

"I wonder what the hell has gotten into him." Charlie mused aloud as she followed Mei through the crowd towards him.

Mei stopped to look at her. "This is a mining town and you're a new face, and a pretty one at that. Most of the workers are a decent sort, but there's more than a handful that see the word 'no' as a challenge, not a refusal. He's making sure they know to keep their hands off. Most people in town can tell he's not to be trifled with, so they'll keep their distance if they happen to catch you alone." As she resumed walking Charlie barely heard her next words, "That, and he's probably a little jealous."

Charlie watched him while they ate, trying to figure out what his game was. From all appearances, it was just as what he'd said earlier. He just wanted to have fun for one night. He looked up and caught her watching him. Flustered, she looked away and tried to pretend she hadn't been caught staring.

Later in the night, they stood by the bar and enjoyed a few more drinks and the music, watching couples dance. Mei had long since abandoned them to mingle. As the dancing went on, Charlie eventually came to the conclusion that he was not going to ask her to dance and it was getting increasingly more difficult to hide her disappointment. "So, I take it you don't dance then?" she ventured.

"Hmm?" he said looking up. "I don't do it very often, but I can."

"Oh." Charlie felt very foolish for just having opened her big mouth. Maybe it was the glow of the whiskey, but she just couldn't stop the words from coming out. "You just don't dance with me…"

Monroe flinched. He couldn't believe what she'd just said. "You're just getting over pneumonia. I didn't want to tire you out; otherwise I'd have asked you hours ago."

"I'm up to it, you know."

The tempo of the music had just changed to something slower. Without another word he led her away from the bar and pulled her to him. One hand holding hers and the other around her waist he spun her around the dance floor.

"When's the last time you've done this?" she asked after a few minutes.

Monroe let a shy chuckle escape. "It's been a while," he admitted. He wasn't about to tell her exactly how many years it was, if only to avoid pointing out how old he was getting. "In case I forgot to tell you earlier, you look amazing tonight." He added, immediately looking away. You're just being nice, you're not hitting on her. Do not look at her - you will NOT look at her.

And of course, he couldn't help himself. When she wrapped her free arm around his neck, he stopped listening to himself and looked at her. Charlie smiled up at him, secretly enjoying his discomfort just as much as she was enjoying the dance itself and the feel of his hand at her waist. She had to admit that he was rather good at it.

So far he'd done everything he could to remain the complete gentleman around her, but watching her smile up at him was making it hard to behave himself. You will not look at her lips; do not look at her lips. It's not like she'd let you kiss her anyway, so there's no reason to continue looking at her lips.

Monroe looked away from her just long enough to realize they'd slowly drifted to the far side of the bar and were dancing in the shadows. He couldn't tell if she didn't notice or if she just didn't care. Do not kiss her. You will not kiss her. I am ordering you not to kiss her; you cannot kiss her, she'd probably kill you. Aw fuck – Were you always this bad at taking orders? Before he could stop himself, Monroe bent towards her and slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

It was just for a split second, a light meeting of lips and then he pulled back. He cautiously searched her eyes for something – aversion, desire anything. When she didn't react he did it again, this time lingering for a moment longer. When he broke the contact off again, he suddenly realized how stupid he'd just been. "Charlie, I'm sorry, I-"

Before he could finish she stood on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, she released his hand and wrapped her other arm around his neck, clinging to him as they continued to dance. He took control, moving his lips against hers softly. Mindful of the setting, he didn't press to take things further; he just enjoyed the feeling of her arms wrapped around his neck and the taste of her lips. It dawned on him several minutes later that they were still swaying to music that was no longer being played. He pulled away again and cleared his throat, hoping they hadn't gained an audience.