As November came, so did the first snow of the season. Charlie seemed right at home in the snowy woods, probably due to growing up in Wisconsin, tracking a small herd of deer so they could have the blackout version of a Thanksgiving. She had been quiet lately. Well, even quieter than she usually was, anyway. Silence was normally how they operated. A flick of a finger or a tilt of a head was usually all they needed in order to communicate, but Bass had noticed over the past few days that her silence seemed to carry more weight to it. He didn't press for any type of conversation, no matter how much he wanted too, though he hoped that it was just because she didn't feel like talking and not because of something he had done.
Patience, he told himself. Charlie didn't ever do anything unless she was good and ready, and pushing her would only do more harm than good.
She was twenty feet ahead of him, bent over, examining the ground around a tree - giving him a rather wonderful view of her backside - when she finally decided that she was ready to speak to him.
"Do you ever miss it?" She asked. Her back was still to him and she was busying herself checking out another tree. Bass wondered if that single, simple question had been the reason for her silence.
"Do I miss what?"
Charlie stood up straight and stared up at the darkening sky for a moment, a look of concentration on her face. "The Republic."
Bass stared at her, taken aback by the abrubt mention of his failed country and the lack of venom in her voice. Then she turned to look at him, her eyes wide and trusting, not a hint of anger in her face, only curiosity.
She was searching for something - what, exactly, he didn't know - but she obviously hoped to find it in his answer.
So his first thought was to simply say no. That was what she wanted to hear, wasn't it? But another look into her eyes showed him that blatant trust again. Maybe she didn't want to hear how sorry he was for what the Republic had become... No. She wanted him to tell her the truth. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. What was the truth, anyway?
"I don't want to lie to you, Charlie."
"Good, then don't."
But that was easier said than done. Did he miss the Republic?
"Yes. Well... sometimes." Charlie watched him carefully, waiting for him to explain. Bass almost growled in frustration, not with Charlie, but with himself. How was he supposed to explain it in a way that wouldn't upset her?
"Look, I'm not gonna lie, sometimes I miss it. I miss having a warm bed and always having plenty of food on the table. I miss having maids around to clean up after me and always having clean clothes without having to do any laundry. I miss being in control, having soldiers ready at my command. But I don't miss the responsibility that came with it. Being responsible for thousands of people is a big job, and I'm just not meant for that kind of thing." He watched her face for any clue as to what she was thinking but she merely stared back at him, unreadable. "Does that make sense?" He asked her after she'd been silent too long.
Charlie bit her lip thoughtfully, pulling at it with her teeth, then nodded slowly. "I guess so," she admitted. "But then why did you tell Conner that you want to get the Republic back?"
Bass closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally smacking himself for his stupidity when it came to his son. "I don't want it back. I mean, I did. When I told Conner that we would get it back, I meant it."
"So what changed?" She asked quietly.
He looked at her carefully. Her blue eyes full of trust and that other thing that he refused to identify. "When I was President, I had no one. Now I have Conner, Miles..." Bass wanted so badly to say, now I have you, but couldn't seem to get the words out. "I've finally gotten close to what I want, I can't lose it now." The unsaid, I can't lose you, hung thick in the air between them.
Charlie nodded and flashed him another one of those perfect smiles that had quickly become his new drug of choice. "Good." Then she turned and went back to tracking their dinner.
"That's it?" He asked, a little confused by the anticlimactic end to what could have been a disastrous conversation.
She turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. "What were you expecting?"
Bass opened his mouth and then shut it. What had he been expecting? His floundering made her chuckle as she moved to stand directly in front of him.
"I'm proud of you, Bass." Then she stood up on her tippy toes and kissed him softly on the lips. He stared down at her, shock mixed with something warm and fuzzy settling in his gut. They smiled at each other as their usual easy silence settled over them again and Charlie moved on to continue her quest for dinner.
What had he been expecting? Certainly not that. But he didn't complain as he trailed after her, the warm fuzzies still swirling around in his stomach.