New Vegas, again. Part two

Bass needed a moment to let her words sink in. He looked at Charlie, her blues sinking into his. His eyes went to the perfect deep red of her lush lips, before he closed the distance to her mouth, his lips crashing on hers.

Fuck. What the hell was he doing? He pulled back, expecting Charlie to at least slap him in the face, or worse, for whatever the hell he just did.

She didn't.

A couple of days before

Son of a bitch. Bass had just watched Gould and his entourage walk away, after he had to listen to Gould, standing with his stupid greasy face at the other side of the fence from the cage he and Connor were in, talking about the dog fight. A fight to the death.

Things had seemed to work out the way they had planned. Although Gould had found one hell of a competition for his fight, Bass had found a way around it. Hell, he was Sebastian Monroe, he could handle this tug. He had won the fight. He had hoped it gave Connor and Charlie enough time to get those damn diamonds.

He had been relieved to find Connor after the fight, throwing an easy going arm around his shoulder, messing with his kid's hair in relieve and pride. His body felt like hell after that fight, but all he could feel right now was pride for his son. Things had moved fast after that: Gould had figured out their plan, and his men had closed in on them. With a hit on his head, one of Gould's men knocked the wind out of him and they got dragged away to a cage, torches and guards around them.

Somehow Gould had found out who he really was, which would mean a hell of a pay for him day if the former General and his son would fight in his little arena. Only one of them making it out there alive. Bass had wanted to rip Gould's throat out there and then, the only thing stopping him was the threat Gould made about shooting Connor on the spot if he even moved an inch.

'How are we going to get out of here?' Connor asked, his eyes on the guards around the fence.

'If you have any ideas? I am all ears kid.'

'Charlie is still out of there?'

'Yeah, right, Mini-Miles? She is going to save us? Lets just hold or breath' His eyes were dark, when he answered Connor. Bass went back to Charlie for a moment, realising she probably would not put her ass on the line just to get them out. And even if she did, her infuriating Matheson stubbornness wouldn't do the trick this time, not with Gould, not here in Vegas. 'Well, if we can't get out of here, we've got to get ready. '

'What do you mean?.' Connor looked at his father intensely, slowly realising where his father was headed.

Bass turned around to face his son, his eyes piercing into his.

'I've got to teach you how to kill me.'

Charlie had waited at their rendezvous point for a long time, until she realised Connor and Monroe were not showing up. Damn. Now she had to go back and save their sorry asses.

There was a cold stab in her stomach when she had found them, some bushes and the darkness of the night giving her cover, not far from the cage where Gould held both of the man captive and heard about the disgusting idea of the dog fight. Another sting deep down when she noticed Monroe looked like hell. She looked at the cage, counted the guards. There was no way she could get them out of there.

One name shot through her mind. Duncan. It was her only chance. It was a long shot, but if Duncan knew who Monroe really was, maybe, maybe she was willing to help.

God, she hated to be wrong. Being wrong was not one of her favourite things. She was a Matheson, that said it all. But she had been wrong, wrong about him. Here in the cover of darkness of the night, walking towards Duncan's camp alone, where it was just her and her thoughts away from what everybody else around her wanted her to feel, she could finally admit it to herself.

That one thing he said to her, in that empty swimming pool. She could hear him, picture him against the wall and hear him say it again and again.

You don't know me, Charlotte.

He was right. Something was released in her chest when she finally allowed herself to give in. He was right.

It had happened ever so unfolded on the road back to Willoughby with all those little moments between them. She did everything she could to not let herself feel it. To keep him at a distance. He had to stay that one dimensional monster she created to deal with her pain. He had to stay Monroe. Not a person, but Monroe. Not the person who saved her life after she did everything in her power to take his. He was not supposed to show up in her memories, he was not supposed to give her comfort, he was not supposed the be a man she ended up in fights with, only to discover they actually could work together.

She did her best pushing all his buttons so he would hurt her, but he never did.

There was no going back now. There was no going back from this. Charlie always fought, and always would be fighting, for the people she cared about and the things that were true for her. She could have just walked away, away from the cage, from Monroe and his kid, leave them there. Leave him there to die. Death by a stroke from his own son. Because there was no doubt in her mind Monroe would not let Connor die.

She could have everything she did not get the first time she went to Vegas. But she could not leave him behind. She knew she probably was not going to walk away alive from not wanting to leave him behind. But leaving Bass behind, just was not an option anymore. Because she would never say it to his face for a very long time, but Monroe became Bass. Bass. After all, one time not so long ago Monroe came back for her. Now Charlie was going back for him.

She slowly approached Duncan's camp, fires and the sounds of men indicating she was close.

'Ah, Monroe's bitch, I remember you.' Duncan's eyes lit up, the fires from the camp glowing over her face.

Duncan's welcome into her camp wasn't exactly the warm and friendly one. Not that Charlie expected one. Charlie tried to convince the woman before her that if she wanted her diamonds, they had to help her get Monroe out of trouble. But instead of finding help, she ended up in a whole lot of trouble herself. They tied her up and she was put in a tent alone.

When the pale morning light arrived, a misty and cold morning, two of Duncan's men came for her. Duncan made some kind of deal with Gould, leaving her chained up to Gould's wagon, Duncan and her camp slowly disappearing from sight.

Bass had just done one of the hardest things in his life. He told Connor he got Emma, his mother, killed.

They had trained all night, teaching his kid everything he needed to know to take his life. The sun had come up, a bitter cold morning had arrived. Connor kept going back over and over again how he rather died here on his feet , then to give Gould his fight.

He tried desperately to find something in Connor, find something that would make him want to fight as hell. And right now, the truth was the only thing he had left to give his son.

So he told Connor how he dragged Emma right into gunfire. The vision of Emma dying his arms, of the woman he once loved so much, so clear for a moment he could almost touch it. Watching the look of realisation in Connor's eyes mixing with a building anger tearing him apart from the inside. He gave him some space, before Connor made a full blown attack that knocked the air out of his longs.

Connor didn't talk to him for the next hour. Both of the men were sitting down, their backs to the fence of the cage they were still in, distance between them. He watched how his son had tears in his eyes, staring in front of him.

It was time for more truths, there was nothing more left to do before he would give his life for his son, tonight. Bass finally let some of the darkness in ,he kept at such a distance, feeling tears in his eyes for a long time.

He told Connor how he killed and clawed his way to the front of the pack. How he had caused so much damage and hurt along the way. How when he finally got there, it hadn't mean one hell of a thing because he was all alone. He needed Connor to make it out of here alive.

He told him he needed Connor to take the republic back. To make a live for himself, to find a girl, not Charlie, oh fuck. not .Charlie. to have kids. To not be alone. If him dying today made sure Connor would live, the Republic would live on and his son found some happiness, then that was worth dying for in the end and it would all have some fucking meaning after all.

Connor had turned to his father, and Bass finally felt some connection between him and his son. One of the guards threw in some disgusting kind of food, when Bass saw a wagon approaching. Blonde hair and the familiar frame of her body bringing a stop to his system. Those assholes had put chains around her wrists and feet, Gould's riding shotgun, shooting him a challenging look. His eyes founds hers for one moment, he could almost saw regret in her eyes. Charlie. And then, she was gone of his sight. Charlie.

He kept his face in a straight line, when he watched Connor look at Charlie.

'Well, so much for that rescue.' Bass said in low tone and raspy voice. Emotions out of his voice. He couldn't. He could not feel what he fucking was feeling right now. For her. It did not matter. Things, just like this whole fucking day, were closing in on him in an endless cloud of grey. He could not let her pierce through.

Now all they were able to do, was wait. Wait it out, wait until Gould's men would come for them.

Charlie heard cheers outside of the trailer. The fight had started. Her heart was beating impossibly fast. Disgust and rage filling her when she made her final move. The smelling man so near to her, up to the point it had made her nauseous, his hands had already touched places they shouldn't have. If Gould thought he could use her as some cheap prostitute to satisfy his clients, he was dead wrong. The humiliation of being forced to wear some slutty lingerie, only added to her rage.

She was using everything she had in her, to push him off, the chains Gould had put on her wrists, those chains trapping her to the bed, prevented her from moving the way she wanted to. More cheers from the tent, far away. The thought of what was about to happen, the thought of losing him, gave her the extra strength she needed.

The last image of Bass was one of him in the cage, in grey morning light, leaning into the fence. He looked different, his deep blue's cloudy, no emotions on his face.

She could hear Miles voice somewhere in the back of her head. Make the most of what you have, Kid. She felt the chains yanking at her wrist, her eyes shooting to the man before her. Charlie knew she had only one chance and with one forceful scream she wrapped the chains around the neck of the man before her, wrapped it around his neck and only let go when he dropped dead on the bed. Her feet tore apart the wooden headboard of the bed, giving her the space she needed to get to the keys that the dumb bastard left in the trailer.

Finally free, she put on her pants, jacket and boots as fast as she could, the only thing that remained was the hope that she was not going be too late.

Two days later

Charlie felt empty with being tired from the days on the road. Tired from the endless sandy roads that would take them back to their safe house. Against all the odds, she had not been too late. In fact, she was just in time to save Duncan's life from a knife in her back from one of Gould's men. Leaving no other option for Duncan to repay that debt by creating absolute chaos, guns firing, the audience screaming when they were trying to leave the tent. Charlie ran over to the entrance of the fight cage, yelling at both of the Monroe man to stand back, firing one perfect shot at the lock to free both of them.

When she thought about the moment after everything calmed down after the fight, and they all had gathered in Duncan's camp a smile found her way to her lips. Duncan had come through with five mercenaries to give to them, well, to her, owing her for saving her life. What made things even more fun was picturing Monroe's face again when he had realised what Duncan had done, giving her command over the mercenaries.

Another long day on the road had come to a conclusion. She was relieved to know he had made it out there alive, but as soon as they had gotten back on the road, he was moody and avoiding her. You are welcome for saving your ass, Monroe. Smug arrogant bastard.

They set up camp not far from the main road, but still covered enough by trees and bushes to keep them out of sight and out of trouble for the night. She had felt his eyes on her all day, deep and pensive. And when she walked to a little stream not far from camp, she felt him approaching, before he even opened his mouth.

'So, tell me something Charlotte,' His voice a slow low rythem. She kept her back turned to him.

'Where do you find the time to sneak off and bang my son?'

Son of a bitch, Charlie felt anger building up, she had to restrain herself from breaking his nose, break anything for that matter. She turned around to meet him head on.

'It's interesting don't you think?' He paused for a moment, piercing his eyes deeper into hers, 'off all the guys out there to screw, you choose a Monroe.'

'Oh you think that's interesting?' Her breathing got heavier, she pointed a finger at him. 'You don't get to talk to me like that, Monroe.'

They stood there, facing each other, only inches between his body and hers. Challenge in both of their eyes. Charlie eyes shot fire at him, she was so angry she was almost trembling. She could see how his jaws locked, his lips closely pressed together, irritation in his eyes.

'Not that it is any of your business, but nothing happened between him and me.' Her words were filled with focussed anger.

'What the hell Charlie?' Bass growled, his eyes wide in surprise.

'You were acting like some man child, drawing your own conclusions,' She shouted at him.

'Besides if I would go for a Monroe, I would not chose him.'

Charlie held in her breath, frozen to the ground. Did she just really say that?

Bass needed a moment to let her words sink in. He looked at Charlie, his mouth open in shock. Her blues sinking into his. His eyes went to the perfect deep red of her lush lips, before he closed the distance to her mouth, his lips crashing on hers.

Fuck. What the hell was he doing? He pulled back, expecting Charlie to at least slap him in the face, or worse for whatever the hell he just did.

She didn't. He looked into eyes filled with anything but anger , he saw a deep look that made him only want her more. She took one step closer to him, a jolt to his god damn system when her breasts found his chest. She looked up to him, her lips slightly parted. She grabbed his shirt, pulling him close before her mouth found his. Bass pulled her in even closer, putting one hand on the small of her back, kissing her deeply, exploring every part of her mouth. Wanting her even closer. Charlie opened her mouth, a deep moan coming from far away, their tongues met somewhere in the middle.

Ah Vegas, so much Charloe there, so many moments and for me personally the moment where I made the shift between them: of course Charlie did not sleep with Connor here, but Bass thought she did, they did, and that was enough to bring out rage and jealousy in him, and that was enough to have an irritated Charlie and that energy was enough for that one moment between them... Hope you enjoyed the twist and the end result of that twist here...This was my take on Vegas.. Until the next chapter, Love from Love