Chapter 10

Charlie watches the back of Bass's head as he stands in the enormous coffee line, the line of his jaw slightly visible when he turns to smile at the lady in front of him who seems charmed.

Typical Bass.

His hand had been warm on the small of her back as he had walked her from the front of her apartment to the tables in the coffee house, his voice low as he told her to sit while he grabbed them coffee. She gazes out the window at the passing pedestrians and skyscraper buildings, leaning back in her chair to see just how far up she could see of them, just like she used to do as a kid with Miles in the car.

Charlie is almost amused that she can still surprise herself every once in awhile, the evidence in the fact that she's sitting here waiting for Bass to bring her coffee. The sharp ebb of anger becoming self loathing that eventually turned into sitting on her kitchen floor with an empty bottle of whiskey in her aching hand and the tiniest voice in the back of her head calling her a coward. She's anything but a coward.

"Here." Bass's voice interrupts her thoughts as he sets a steaming cup of coffee down in front of her in an oversized teal mug. "Four sugars, just how you like it."

"Thank you." She says it softly and as soon as it's said he waves it off in typical nonchalance Bass style.

"How's your hand?" The glow of sunlight casts a stark illumination of her skin and brings to life the crimson and violet mess she's made of her hands. She shrugs it off in typical Charlie fashion.

"It's healing. Should be good as gold in a few days."

His eyes take a hard look at her hands before nodding in agreement as he leans back into his chair, his hands wrapped securely around his cup and Charlie takes a sip of her coffee, enjoying the sweetness as she watches him.

"Miles says your avoiding his calls."

Charlie tilts her head slightly to the side and studies him, his blue eyes watching her openly with nothing but mere curiosity.

"Miles is right." She shrugs and smiles crookedly. "It wouldn't be much of a screw you if I answered his calls in under 48 hours. He would think I was getting soft."

Bass breaks into a laugh and she lets herself take a moment to take in such unreal beauty, his eyes glowing as he shakes his head in appreciation of her and she wonders what it would be like to see him this open all the time.

"You know, Miles never really told me how you got into this. Hostage negotiating."

Charlie sighs and gives him a hard stare. "You really want to get into this now?"

Bass shrugs, "Most people want to know who they're working with."

Charlie snorts. "Yeah, if the person they're working with went out with that person not recognizing them because it's been seven years then ended up having to work with them because a psychopath is after them only to find out that it's their best friends niece who he left oh I don't know.. seven years ago?" There's a twinge of bitterness that she swallows quickly and when he just stares at her she stares right back.

"That's who you're working with Bass."

"Tell me Charlie." His voice carries no room for negotiation and she sits back in her chair to hold his blinding gaze.

"You want the long version or the short version."

"I can sort out the short version, tell me the long one."

The memories in Charlie's head start to unravel and she swallows hard and clenches her fists slightly to bring herself back to the present, ignoring the way Bass's gaze latches onto her clenched fists and his jaw tightens.

"I really hated myself when I was younger." It's a harsh way to start but his eyes fly to her and she shows indifference, cold steel in her blue eyes.

"I wanted to forget and being young and pretty it was pretty damn easy to do it. Pot, alcohol, boys, anything with an adrenaline rush, I was there."

She swallows hard and doesn't look at him, opting to look at her hands instead.

"The last time I saw Rachel I was in the pre op room of a Swedish hospital. You remember that?" Bass nods and she nods back.

"Miles told me I was delirious on pain meds when Rachel came into the room and I started having a panic attack and it only got worse when Rachel tried to get closer. After the transplant was completed the doctor did a more… thorough exam, he hadn't bothered in the beginning because he had known Rachel but after he saw what happened with her he thought he should." Charlie's laugh is dry and bitter, like there isn't enough air in the coffee shop to help her breathe through this.

"He did the exam and he found multiple mishealed fractures along my ribs, where no one could see. Bruises behind the back of my knees. A burn where she "accidentally" spilled boiling water. Many other things too." Charlie fiddles with her hands and breathes through her mouth.

"Anyway, fast forward a few years and it was me being a hellion and Miles trying to keep me from being arrested, or worse, dead. I was lucky for awhile, met some guys who did underground street fighting and racing and found a place to… to breathe. To forget the self loathing for a little while. The anger? The anger I could never really run from. It was good for awhile and then I got arrested for street fighting. Miles went ballistic."

Charlie's lips turn into a nostalgic smile at that. "Although he did have the decency to ask if I had won the fight before convincing the sergeant to not book me, that I would work my way out of it. So I did. Monday to Friday, four pm till ten or eleven at night I would go through files, get the guys coffee, take calls, do whatever was needed. Then one day a green crop of recruits comes through the bullpen where they all get handed an aptitude test that they have two hours to complete, and maybe I stole one."

"Maybe?" Bass smirks at her though it looks forced and she shrugs. "The point is I finished that test in forty minutes before anyone else and scored with a 98%, the highest score in the last twelve years. Sergeant Atkins –the sergeant at the time hauled me into his office and went full out interrogation on me; good cop, bad cop, everything to make sure I didn't get some poor kid to do the test for me. In the next six months I did test after test to prove I wasn't screwing him around.

She actually smiles and takes a sip of her coffee before continuing. "Atkins wanted me to apply for a specialized task force where my IQ could be put to use but I told him I didn't want to sit in a surveillance van or chase after one drug dealer after another. I had read how high domestic abuse rates where and how little success any uniformed cops had sorting those cases out. I convinced Atkins to let me take all the classes and to tag along with the negotiator whenever I could.

From there, there's not much to tell. I graduated at seventeen, barely but I did. And then I finished all the courses required, marksmanship, combat, tactical training, psychology top the highest course offered. Two years after working under the hostage negotiator here, he got offered a promotion from Washington and Steve asked me to be his replacement. God Miles was livid, so of course I took the job, with the deal that my records would be sealed."

Charlie finds Bass's eyes transfixed by her and she can't hold his gaze without being drawn into blue.

"Yeah," Charlie shrugs and tries to look anywhere but at him, "Atkins retired, Steve got promoted, bumped me up to run a new division that specialized in hostage negotiation. Miles now helps runs the homicide unit at the 17th precinct. And you… well you're here."

She smiles softly and looks at his slight shocked expression. "How's that for the long version?"