Jesus. And she'd thought she was in trouble before. The desire and the lust she'd been repressing hit her like a brick wall and she arched into him. Heat rolled through her in waves and his hands were hot on her skin under the hem of her shirt. She caught his lip with her teeth and he groaned, so she twined her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him in deeper, desperate to quell the building need. They broke apart because they had to and for a moment the only sound was stilted breathing and the blood pounding in her ears. "Should I not have done that?" His voice was low and rough and she tilted her head back to meet his gaze. She saw the desire there - too much maybe - and the obvious struggle for control. She waited for the guilt to well up...the disbelief or even disgust...but all she felt was a delicious quiver low in her belly. "No," she said truthfully. "But I just almost died again. I'm done worrying about right or wrong." His eyes flashed and she could tell he was fighting a smirk, but he didn't reply. Instead he kissed her again, this time with more urgency. God, this was exactly what she needed.

"Hey - oh! Whoa. Shit, sorry."

Charlie dragged herself away to find Derek frozen in the doorway. She wasn't easily embarrassed but felt herself blush at the intrusion and ducked her face behind Monroe's. She studied the stubble on his jaw and the fine layer of dust on his throat while she waited for her cheeks to cool; then his grip tightened on her hip and his thighs shifted firmly against hers and she decided to be angry instead that Derek had ruined the moment. Monroe was obviously just as unhappy with the interruption. "What do you want?" He demanded in a very controlled, deceptively calm tone. Derek tried to look anywhere but at them. "Ah – Mateo's back." Mateo had gone to Austin with Mike and Bonnie and a couple others to deliver their message to Blanchard.

"Fine." Monroe was still flush against her and he didn't seem inclined to let go, even as war hung in the balance. Derek got the message and turned to go, then hesitated. "Oh, yeah, um-"

"What?" Monroe snarled.

"What do you want us to do with Neville?"

The mention of Neville was enough to kill anything lingering in the moment and after a quick glance her way, Monroe pulled back. Her body protested at the loss of contact and without it uncertainty quickly set in. He looked just as uneasy, but underneath that was a glimmer of a smile. She had the surprising urge to smile back, but then the realization of what had just happened started to hit her. Discomfort churned in her stomach along with the leftover need and desire, so to distract herself she thought back to the loathing that had been in Neville's eyes when he'd tried to strangle her. The fear she'd felt in what had nearly been her last moments came flooding back and her blood boiled. "Kill him," she said firmly. Derek drummed his fingers on the doorframe, then seemed to come to a decision. "Look, I get why you'd want him dead, I do. Problem is some people out there won't take well to one of our own getting lynched. Know what I'm saying?"

Part of her did know what he was saying, but a larger part didn't care. "He just tried to murder me. You'd think they wouldn't take that too well either." She turned to Monroe and tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Despite the monumental shift in their relationship that kiss had caused she didn't really expect his support. She could see the wheels turning in his head and could only guess that he was trying to figure out how this would all come down on him. "Lock him up for now," he said after several moments of contemplation. Amazing. While Monroe hadn't disagreed with her he didn't give his blessing either; it was like nothing at all had just happened between them. "Oh fuck this," she said and turned to push past a confused-looking Derek. "Charlie, stop," Monroe sighed, and the second Derek vanished from the doorway Charlie threw up her hands. "What the hell-"

"We need as many soldiers as we can get right now. If we start killing our own there'll be pushback."

Charlie gaped at him. "Since when do you care what people think? Besides, this is Neville we're talking about. You just about killed him yourself twenty minutes ago. You just said you should have done it."

"And if he so much as looks at you again, I will," he said fiercely, but she was too pissed off to acknowledge any so-called butterflies. "But we're walking a fine line right now. Yeah, you have the right to want him dead – I want him dead – but Derek's right, we need to be smart about this."

Charlie nearly choked on her frustration. Monroe taking advice from someone other than Miles just didn't happen, and he chooses now to start? "Won't letting Neville go just prove to everyone else that they can do shit like that and get away with it?" She demanded, grasping at any straw she could. "Shouldn't we send a message here?"

He laughed a little, in a disbelieving sort of way. "I've always thought so."

She paused as the implication hit her, then rallied. "Don't you get how close that was out there?" She jabbed a finger toward the wall and tried to shove down the emotion currently wedged in her throat. "I've been there too many times with him. My luck's going to run out eventually." He was silent for a moment and she could see the tension settle over him. He glared and she set her jaw, ready for a fight. "Of course I fucking know how close it was," he all but growled. "Goddamn it, Charlie, when I pulled him off you I thought I was too late. It was just for a second, but I thought you were dead." He was giving her a hard look, angry but at the same time wounded. Something in her twinged. She knew the feeling of watching the life slip away from someone you cared about - the helplessness and desperation and anger. "So why are we having this conversation then?" she asked finally.

"Like I said, we can't afford to lose any soldiers."

"That's more important than killing someone who wants me dead?"

"No," he huffed. "But forget for a minute that Neville's a bastard and think what he can do for us when it comes down to the wire with the Patriots. He's useful."

Damn it. She hated that he was right and stubbornly held her ground. "Seriously? Neville's tried to kill me so many times it's stupid. We'd be doing the world a favour getting rid of him."

"I happen to agree with you, but not everybody's going to see it that way. Keeping him alive would arguably be for the greater good."

"Yeah, well, good's overrated."

He raised his brows. "Oh, you think so?" He looked so smug it made her sick, but he had a point. She might have said things like that in the past, joking with Miles, but in this moment she believed it. Was she really so easily influenced? Or was it that she had nobody around anymore to force her moral compass in the right direction? Another dilemma on the heaping pile she had going was the last thing she needed. She rubbed the spot between her brows wearily. All the fight seemed to drain from her, and she became acutely aware of the sharp pain in her ribs and the ache in her throat and her head.

"Look, kill him or don't. It's your call, and I'll back you on it. Just keep in mind that you can still do it after all this is over." Monroe waited expectantly and she glared back. "Fine, I won't go after him. But if you want him alive you keep him the hell away from me." Monroe nodded like he'd expected her to cave, but she had the feeling that if she'd decided to kill Neville right then he'd have stood back and let her, no questions asked. She had the sudden overwhelming urge to kiss him again but worried she wouldn't be able to stop, and that annoyed the crap out of her.

She needed time to clear her head and really think, but when she turned to march out the door he put his hand out to stop her. "Charlie...don't run away from this." He wasn't talking about their argument over Neville. Her heart sped up at the dark look he gave her and his fingers flexed on her abdomen like they wanted to explore and he could only just stop them. Her resolve faltered. Thinking was dangerous, but so was he and damn it if that didn't turn her on. For a second the rest of the world melted away and she was back against that counter with his hands, his mouth, his body on hers. She realized that regardless of how much thinking she did, they'd blown past the point of no return. There was no going back. "I'm not."


Bass hissed out a breath as the door slammed shut. Charlie was obviously furious about Neville – he was furious with himself that he'd given the bastard a reprieve – yet on her way out the door she'd given him a look that had shot through him and left him aching with frustration. He got lost in the fantasy for a second and took a moment to collect himself before heading out to meet Mateo. He wasn't so blinded by lust that he couldn't see the wary looks a few people threw his way, or the wide berth some seemed to cut around him, but frankly he didn't give a shit. A lot more tended to get done when people were afraid of him anyway. He found Mateo with Liv and neither of them looked happy, though he could scarcely keep the grin off his face. "Bonnie came through," Mateo said. "She got in to see Blanchard."

"But?"

"He needs more than just your word. He says he can hold off for a couple of weeks, but if you don't bring him proof he's got no choice but to march on California."

It was more than Bass expected but a lot less than he'd hoped. "What about the Rangers that were at the Town Hall? Didn't they confiscate the mustard gas?" If Blanchard wanted more than that smoking gun then Bass had the uneasy feeling they might not pull this off. Mateo shrugged. "It didn't come up."

"Convenient," Liv said. "That's just like him. Give that man the moon on a platter and he'll ask for the sun to go along with it."

"So you've met."

"He's notorious," she replied carelessly. "So it seems our only option is to find Davis and deliver him to Blanchard."

"Thank you, I hadn't thought of that," he shot back waspishly. His mind spun with calculations. It was fair to assume Davis had high-tailed it back to Washington, and had a hell of a head start. It would take weeks just to get to D.C. - far longer than Blanchard had allowed them to find Davis and hand him over. Still, moving an army across the country would take time. Maybe they had a chance to pull it off before things went too far. "We'll have to leave in the morning," he said wearily. He'd be damned if he'd come this far to give up now. "We'll send a second group to pick up Davis' trail where Neville lost it on the off chance he's dumber than he looks and didn't go back to Washington."

"Train comes through Cherry Hill day after tomorrow," Liv offered. "Heads north. You might be able to make it."

Bass frowned at the thought of further dividing the ranks, especially when he didn't know where the loyalty of any of these people lay, but he did know he had to try everything in his arsenal to make this happen. "Fine, another group will stay back and wait for the train. Derek'll have to take the lead on picking up Neville's trail." Bass turned to Mateo and told him to go find Derek and have him question Neville, provided he was conscious. "He'll be lucky to be conscious by morning," Mateo muttered as he hurried away. Bass paid him no more attention - he was already ten steps ahead in his mind, going over a list of possible scenarios and problems that would arise when they made their attempt to grab Davis. "So who goes on the train?" Liv asked after studying him a moment. "Connor or Charlie?" That brought him up short. "What makes you think I'll send one of them?"

"Because you don't trust anyone else, and I know you'll want someone you can count on to do what they have to if they get there first."

"Which means I'll be on that train." It made the most sense, and really he didn't want to risk the possibility that someone else would fuck it up. They had one chance. "Connor or Charlie will go with the group on foot." The other would come with him, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that Liv could see right through him when she voiced exactly what was on his mind.

"So is it a question of who you want to protect more or who you trust less?"

Bass frowned. "Get some of the guys together," he said instead. "Ones you know." He still didn't fully trust Liv, but he could trust that she had as much to lose as any of them if a war broke out so it would be in her best interest to not screw him over. Unfortunately, Connor was a different story. The kid was not happy with the way things had played out and Bass couldn't be sure Connor wouldn't betray him, given the right opportunity. He needed time to convince his son that what they were doing was the best course of action, so sending Connor off on his own for a few weeks to march to D.C. didn't seem like the best option.

But then there was Charlie.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to process everything that had gone down that night. He didn'thave time to get mired in what he'd felt when he saw Neville on top of her, squeezing the life out of her, because it had been overwhelming. There had been a moment of piercing terror before the blind rage had set in, and Bass knew if he cracked that door open again even just a sliver, Neville wouldn't live to see the morning. And then, of course, there was that little scene in the kitchen. That was something else he was going to have to shelve for the time being, though he was itching to relive the moment. He hadn't planned on kissing her, but after all that had happened he'd been too damn tired of holding himself back. And when Charlie had kissed him back instead of shoving him away as he'd expected, the gratification had been like a balm on his mutilated sense of self-worth. Plus, it had felt really fucking good.

Bass knew Charlie was more than capable of taking care of herself and would be fine with the guys on the road, but he had a hell of a lot more faith in her having his back than Connor if things went to shit in D.C. He had to admit that there was also a tiny part of him that wanted her by his side where he could make sure she stayed safe, and it was the most selfish part of him that wanted her with him because he was already craving more. Not exactly a good reason to bring her along instead of Connor, and in fact it would probably be a distraction. Hell, the fact that he was thinking more about her right now than organizing the trip to D.C. proved it, but for once he didn't care. He didn't care that they were basically fucked where the Patriots were concerned, or that his kid probably wanted to kill him. Bass wasn't sure if what he was feeling was happiness - it'd been so long he could hardly recognize it - but it was close. He let himself revel in it for just a moment before he let reality crash back in. When it did, time passed in a blur. He had to organize his troops, weapons, and logistics and sorely missed the days when he had people to do this for him.

"I can see why you were so successful with your empire," Liv said at one point during a few minutes of down time. Bass was surprised when he realized she was being genuine, then kind of pleased. The power might have gotten to him in the end, but this was what he'd been born for. Except he'd had help establishing his empire, and not having Miles there now might mean the difference between success and absolute failure. Bass frowned at the sharp stab of grief he felt thinking of Miles and wondered if that would ever go away. He didn't expect it to. No matter what anyone said, there was no substitute for his best friend, his brother. "Hm," he grunted. They were in Liv's war room (the loft of the barn) wolfing down sandwiches and tying up the remaining loose ends, and now wasn't the time to dredge up memories. He still hadn't had the chance to talk to Charlie or Connor and their absence was glaring. He wondered if both of them were purposefully avoiding him. Footsteps sounded on the stairs and Derek appeared with Mateo on his heels. Bass pushed Charlie and Connor out of his mind. "What'd you get out of Neville?"

"Nothing," Derek said nervously.

"He's dead?" It would be a strategic loss, but not one he was going to lose sleep over.

"No, he's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Bass demanded sharply. Derek shifted on his feet, obviously reluctant to be the bearer of bad news. "We've been looking for him for two hours. He's not here." Bass knew it was too much to hope that Neville had dragged himself off somewhere to die. "Have you seen Charlie?" If Neville was wandering around then she might be in danger – or she'd gone back on her word and had killed him. "I want this place torn apart," he snapped. "And if you see Charlie, send her to me."

Bass stormed out of the loft and found the camp swarming. People were mobilizing to move on Davis and Derek and Mateo were shouting orders to leave no stone unturned looking for Tom Neville. Fucking Neville! The son of a bitch had been a thorn in his side from day one. Still, when he'd left Neville earlier he'd been unconscious and teetering on the brink of death. There was no way he'd disappeared on his own. "Derek!" Bass shouted. "Find out who else is missing!" He knew they didn't have time for this – their nonexistent window to stop the war was rapidly closing – but he had a bad feeling. His gut told him if they didn't handle Neville now he'd come back to haunt them later. He always did. The bastard was a cockroach.

"What's going on?"

Bass whirled on Charlie. "Where the hell were you?"

"I took a minute," she shot back defensively. "Is that a problem for you?"

She'd cleaned herself up, he noticed, which only made the bruises on her neck stand out. The sight of them made him angry, and because he was already stressed and frustrated, he let his mouth get the better of him. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're about to fight a war. Perfect time to grab a bath." He clamped his mouth shut, instantly berating himself. Would he never learn? But she only rolled her eyes. "I thought about a nap too, but there's too much noise out here to get a decent sleep. So either shut up or tell me what's going on." She looked on stoically and Bass felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "Well, smartass, we've got to perform a miracle and get Davis to confess to Texas before they declare war in a couple of weeks." He filled her in on the message Mateo had delivered, and their plan. "I'm going with you," she said instantly, when he told her about the train. "You're not getting him without me."

"Yeah, I know." He'd known since Liv had voiced his dilemma over choosing between them. Charlie needed it. "But right now we have a bigger problem. Neville's missing." He watched her carefully as he delivered the news. Her shoulders tensed up and she unconsciously rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. She narrowed her eyes. "Are you asking if I had something to do with it?"

"Did you?"

"I don't go back on my word," she said coolly, along with a fuck-you-for-asking look. Not many people could make him feel like an ass, but she was one of them. Maybe it was because they'd finally crossed that line, but he hadn't felt this unsure since the eighth grade, when he'd made out with Jenn Miller behind the gym then avoided her for the rest of the year because he didn't know what to do about it. Charlie didn't seem fazed. In fact, she was behaving as if nothing had happened. Goddamn it, he had no idea how he was supposed to act here. But if there was one thing he hated it was feeling like a fool, so he was just going to follow her lead. She glanced over at the crowd occupying Liv's fields and raised her brow skeptically. "Have you talked to Connor?"

"You think he had something to do with this?" No. Bass' knee jerk reaction was to deny it. "Connor might be pissed off at me but he's not going to do something stupid." Charlie said nothing, but the look she gave him spoke volumes. No, Connor wouldn't have done something stupid because he wasn't stupid. However he was definitely capable of making a calculated, strategic move. Betrayal surged in him, closely followed by anger, but he pushed it back. The last thing he needed to do was blame his son for something he didn't do. "Come on," he growled. They needed to find Connor now.

"What?"

"Neville's on the loose and probably has allies. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"I'm perfectly-"

"Charlie."

"Fine." She looked annoyed, but he was grateful she didn't argue. She crossed her arms and started to head off into the crowd, but after a few steps she hesitated and turned back. He was right on her heels and nearly crashed into her. "He'll come around," she said abruptly. He was close enough to feel the goosebumps on her arms. She didn't back off either, but this was different than the last time. There was nothing but empathy in the way she looked at him. "Look, I hated my mom for years. I got over it. He will too."

The only reason Charlie had hated Rachel was because of him, yet here she stood trying to make him feel better without an ounce of accusation behind the story. He wanted to touch her, to somehow convey his gratitude in a way that words wouldn't, but he didn't trust himself. Instead he let out a short, bitter laugh. "He's my kid. I'm sure he can hold a grudge."

"If he holds a grudge like you do he'll be back by breakfast," she muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

Charlie sighed dramatically. "Do you want to find Connor or sit here bitching about it?"

Bass grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Everyone else is looking. I want to know what the hell you meant by that."

"Oh, for god's sake – fine. Take you and Miles. He wants to kill you, abandons you, whatever, but you make it your mission to win him back. He kept Connor from you for years! But all you wanted was to have him in your life. That's just about the complete opposite of someone who holds grudges. That's not a bad thing," she added, her voice losing the hard edge. Bass was at a loss. His hand was still on her arm and she tugged impatiently. "Come on, we don't have time."


"They're gone. We've torn this place apart and they're not here."

"Who?"

"Neville and Connor for sure."

"Nobody else?"

"Nobody important that we can tell."

Everyone stopped talking when Liv joined them. "Annabeth's missing," she announced dispassionately. "And one of my wagons. Seems they made a run for it."

All eyes turned to him but Bass was looking into the distance, wondering how far they'd gone and wondering what the fuck was going through Connor's head. Bass really hadn't expected this, and the disappointment was like a punch to the gut, closely followed by the desperate need to go after him. Charlie must have seen it on his face because she pulled him aside. "We've got maybe two hours til daylight. Connor can wait, Blanchard can't."

"I'm not an idiot, Charlie," he snapped. He knew he didn't have a choice - or more accurately, he had a difficult choice to make. They glared at each other a moment. "Go with Derek to make sure his guys are ready to leave for D.C. We're going to have to forget about picking up Neville's trail, so they'll head straight there."

She eyed him suspiciously. "What about you?"

"I'm not going after him," Bass ground out. She seemed to think he was going to abandon them the second her back was turned. "Trust me." After another moment of sizing him up she nodded. "Alright." She brushed past him, then paused, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Need anything?" He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. The adrenaline high he'd been riding for hours was waning and exhaustion was creeping in. He needed a year of sleep. He needed the Patriots to burn. He needed Miles back, and he needed his kid to not hate him. He opened his eyes and smirked a little. "An hour alone with you, maybe." She grinned, let out a snort of laughter. "Smooth," she said and squeezed his shoulder before heading off with Derek.

Bass watched her for a second and worried over the rush of affection he felt doing so. He didn't have a good track record when it came to caring about people. They tended to leave or die on him, and the thought of Charlie doing either made his stomach churn. The memory of Neville attacking her resurfaced - was it only hours ago? - and with it came the rage and a renewed incentive. He should never have agreed to let Neville live, and the faster he got rid of the Patriots, the faster he could destroy the son of a bitch.


"I really don't think we should have moved him."

Connor didn't take his eyes off the road. He scanned the dark line of trees continuously, sure one of Monroe's men would appear any second. He shifted restlessly in the seat and offered Annabeth his excuse for dragging Neville off the farm. "If we'd stayed they'd have killed him." Truthfully he didn't really know if they would have, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"Well, he was strangling Charlie."

That surprised Connor enough to make him turn around. He could hardly see Annabeth's face in the dark but he heard the censure in her voice. She'd never been in favour of war or their tactics. She'd told him plainly that she detested the way death seemed to surround them. Now she was defending what Monroe had done? "But he didn't kill her," he reminded her. "You think he should die for it?"

"No, but I thought you would. Or at least that you wouldn't stop them."

Fair enough. He turned back and resumed his watch. If something like that had happened back home Neville would have suffered a fate much worse than an easy death, and it would have likely been at his hands. But right now, he needed Neville alive. "I'm not that barbaric," he said. Annabeth didn't reply and they lapsed into a silence only punctuated by Neville's laboured breathing. It wasn't until the sky began to lighten that she really looked around. "This isn't the way to Austin."

"Austin's full of Patriots, and Rangers who'll ask too many questions."

"Where then?"

"We're going to Georgia."


A/N: I'm sorry it's been an obscenely long time since my last update, but I got burnt out on the story for awhile, and when I went back to it I faced an even bigger hurdle. It was easy to write the buildup of Monroe and Charlie, but I don't know how to go about developing their relationship. I do know where I'm taking and ending this story, but it'll be a struggle to get there, so please feel free to include your suggestions in your reviews! Also, I really feel this chapter is pretty shaky. Kind of all over the place, but my first foray back in after several months so please bear with me! (And I used to read a lot of romance novels as a teen and I know that bled through in this chapter. Sorry.)

Have you guys heard?! Revolution is getting an ending! The show runners are releasing a 4-part graphic novel online to finish the series. The first installment is released tomorrow! I'm so excited but worried too that it'll ruin my Charloe fantasy, lol.