Chapter 7

Bass watches Charlie across the bullpen, her knees pulled up to her chest, the heels of her feet resting on the edge of her creaky roller chair. Her eyes dart between the files on her desk, her mouth moving as she makes notes as the other hand props her head up.

It's nearly 8pm on a Friday and Bass can think of a dozen places he would rather be than sitting in the bullpen finishing paperwork, but Charlie seems in no rush to leave, so neither is he. He takes another gulp of lukewarm bitter coffee and proceeds to make another note in the file he's reviewing, glancing up occasionally to check on Charlie who never seems to change positions, the only way to tell she's moved is the way her hair grows more hazardous as the night wears on, her hair going from sleek curls to sex hair in a matter of hours.

Bass can feel a headache start to come on and he pushes away from his desk with a sigh, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"Here." Charlie tosses him a bottle of Advil and he catches it gratefully, downing two pills with the rest of his coffee and praying that this pounding in his head will ease. Charlie's team works hard, but Charlie works the hardest by far, never leaving before 11pm and always being there before 6 every morning. She's respected, even by the highest members on the force, but she doesn't talk much to anyone unless it's giving an order and even those are infrequent.

Food. He needs food in order to keep his brain functioning.

"Hey," Bass waits till Charlie looks at him, half curious and half irked that he interrupted her.

"Let's go get some food.'

Charlie shrugs and goes back to making notes, "I'm not hungry. You go ahead."

"Charlie, all you've eaten today is a muffin and a handful of m&m's. You need actual food."

She sighs and looks at the clock and when she looks back at him her expression is resigned.

"Fine, but then we come back and keep working."

It's a victory, albeit a small one but Bass nods as he stands up to stretch his legs and waits impatiently as Charlie makes one more note before setting her pen down. She stands fluidly and reaches her arms above her head, the curve of her spine growing more pronounced with the thin grey tank top and skinny jeans she's wearing.

"Ready?" Bass is hungry and the need for food makes him more snappy than usual.

She nods and they fall into step beside each other, the silence weary and stiff between them as they wait for the elevator.

They ride down in silence, Charlie breaking her somber mood to flash a smile at the night guard as she flashes her badge as Bass follows behind her.

The night air is chilly and goosebumps appear on Charlie's skin and she shivers before looking up at him.

"Anything in particular you want?"

"It's your city. Anywhere you think is decent will work."

Charlie bites her bottom lips and looks hesitantly up at him. "I know a place but we're not exactly dressed for it. Best steaks in town if you like steak though."

Bass grins at her and watches a small blush spread across her cheeks.

"They won't mind that we're not dressed to par?"

Charlie shrugs, "They've never minded before."

"Then steak sounds perfect. Lead the way."

Charlie nods in relief and starts to walk down the sidewalk, her hands stuffed into her jean pockets.

"Any plans this weekend?"

Charlie shrugs, "Paperwork. This is my first weekend in two months off call so I'm going to advantage of it."

"And do what?" Bass prods and watches Charlie look at him for a moment.

"Sleep." There's a laugh that escapes her and he can't help but chuckle too.

"You?" Charlie asks him, envious of how open his expression is.

"Not too much either. Cynthia is in the city to check out a sculpture from a local artist so I'll spend a few hours catching up with her, maybe catch a movie or something too."

Charlie nods and they continue walking.

"What kind of movies do you like?"

Charlie looks up at him in surprise and he shrugs. "Everyone likes movies Charlie. What kind do you like?"

She sighs and stuffs her hands deeper into her pockets and stares thoughtfully up at the sky.

"Comedies. Our job has so much… hurt, it's nice to be able to laugh every once in a while. Action if it's been a good week, even if they sometimes hit too close to home. Never horror, I never understood the appeal of voluntarily watching something in the hopes that it will scare the shit out of you."

"So comedy, then action. No romance drama?"

Charlie lets out a snort and Bass can't help the grin that breaks through.

"Drama, yes. Nothing melodramatic, just good old heart wrenching storylines. Romance, no. I've never really found any appeal in it. Cliché stories with cliché endings."

"So there's no romance in your life?"

Bass knows he's crossing the line from polite questioning into personal but he waits for an answer anyway.

"What about you? What kind of movies do you like?"

She changes the subject smoothly –albeit unsubtly and he gets the hint to back off.

"Action is always a go to genre. You can't really go wrong with things blowing up. Comedy is always good, as long as it's clever humor."

"What about drama and romance?" Charlie asks him smirking at his glare that he shoots her.

"Drama and romance yes."

"Really?" Charlie doesn't keep the skeptism out of her voice as she eyes him.

Bass avoids eye contact and keeps his face impassive as he talks.

"I like to think that there's someone out there for everyone."

Charlie snorts and looks up at him. "What, like a soulmate?"

"Not that cheesy." He looks down at her and arches an eyebrow, "Someone who knows you; I mean really knows you."

Charlie is silent for a moment and then softly says, "What are you looking for?"

Bass stares at her and watches how she meets his eyes briefly for a moment before focusing on the sidewalk in front of them and he wishes that she wouldn't look away.

Charlie thinks he isn't going to answer and can't dispute the fact that she avoided his question so there's no reason for him to answer hers and resigns herself to the silence.

"I answer this question and then you answer mine.'

Charlie realizes the bargain he's making and tries to hide the smile that threatens to break through at his negotiating skills.

She nods and waits in anticipation for his answer, the cold making everything inside of her almost heightened.

"I'm looking for someone I can trust. Someone strong. Someone at peace with themselves. Someone better than me. Someone who knows the... worst side of me and still loves me."

Charlie swallows hard and refuses to look at him when she feels him looking at her, the implication that he's waiting for her to answer his earlier question a ringing reminder.

"Charlie,"

She looks up at him and then shrugs, "Let's go inside first and order a drink."

Bass realizes that they've walked nearly eight blocks when he turns to see an upscale restaurant to his left, the glass window letting him get a glimpse of the suits and ties of the men and dresses the woman wear inside.

"Charlie, they're not going to let us in looking like this."

This time she smirks, and looks at him in a challenge. "Come in with me and find out."

Bass sighs but follows her inside, watching her slip a fifty dollar bill to the waiter. His eyes linger a little too long on Charlie and if she notices she doesn't seem to care as she grins cockily at him and then motions for him to follow her through the crowd of people to the booth in the far corner.

Charlie slides in first into the leather booth, sliding into the far end so she can see the entire restaurant.

The waiter waits patiently for Bass to sit and then places the menus down on the table.

"Whiskey Miss. Greyson?"

Charlie smiles the kind of smile that Bass knows gets men hard in seconds and resists the urge to glare at the waiter.

"Please Matthew, and he'll have the same."

The waiter looks over at Bass almost like he forgot he was there and his smile disappears replaced with something close to disappointment even as he nods and disappears to get their drinks.

Charlie's gaze flicks over him before her lips curve into an amused smile. "He's harmless."

"Not your type?"

Charlie starts to laugh and then runs her fingers over the menu as she looks at him. "No, definitely not my type."

Matthew chooses that moment to reappear and this time Bass can't help but glare at him as he sets two glasses of whiskey down on the table.

"Are you ready to order?" He doesn't even look at Bass, his eyes trained solely on Charlie and her infectious smile.

Charlie looks at Bass and he smiles at her, watching Matthews smile fade.

"You said steaks were good here?"

She nods, "The best."

Bass rubs his hands together and then stares down the waiter. "Sounds excellent."

The waiters voice is monotone as he asks how he wants it done and Bass can't help feeling a small amount of victory at something so petty.

"And you Miss?"

Charlie smiles but it's less open this time as she orders, her face opening up slightly when he leaves.

"So he's not your type…" Bass prods again and then takes a sip of whiskey, savoring the warm burn that fills him.

Charlie smirks and takes hold of her whiskey glass, leaning back into the booth, the glass sitting lightly on her knee.

"Dating in this profession is… well difficult to put it nicely. We're called away at a moment's notice, we're put in situations where we can't guarantee that we'll be coming home. We work fifteen hour days most of the week and it's the kind of work that everyone carries around with them when they leave."

Bass watches her take a sip of her whiskey and waits till she looks at him. "You haven't found anyone that understands that?"

She shrugs and plays with the rim of her glass. "Understands it? I guess in a way. I've dated men, even cops who understand what I do and what it takes for me to do it, but none of them have ever liked it."

Bass must look confused because she shakes her head immediately afterwards.

"I guess like isn't the right word. No one would like not knowing if their significant other was coming home that night, or ever. I mean the people I've dated have never understood why I do it. That's the problem. It's a dangerous job, more dangerous than almost any other job on the force. It's also one of the most highly respected jobs, most challenging and most rewarding jobs, and the question whenever I mention what I do is usually "why would a nice girl like you want to do that job?" I don't do it because its fun, I do it because it matters, because of the difference I can make. More of a difference than a lot of job on the force."

Bass nods and realizes why there's such a snarky wall around her. There's no wonder then all men have done is question her choices.

"So what are you looking for Charlie?"

She smiles and it's almost sad and wistful.

"Someone who doesn't let me run when things get hard. Someone who loves me, even when they hate me. Someone I can come home to and knows that there are some things words can't fix. Someone who loves what they do and understands that I love what I do, are that there are no promises that I can keep; about what tie I'll be home or if I'll make it to dinner or that I won't get shot. I can't keep any of those promises. Someone who is kind, and strong and wants the most out of their life. And someone who loves me enough to stay in mine."

She looks at Bass and her eyes are a cloudy sort of blue and grey.

"That's all I'm looking for Bass. Someone."