A/N: This story is my addition to the 2015 Very Charloe Christmas fan fic gift exchange. I am honored to write for a dear friend. Miss Irish, this is for you. You wanted AU with no Rachel and a lot of Charloe…. Here's my attempt to give you all of those things. Merry Christmas!

The door slams shut behind Bass Monroe as he enters the cabin. His cheeks are red from the cold and snowflakes glisten in his curls. He looks incredulously around the small space as he talks into his cell phone. "Where the fuck are you and why does it look like a Martha Stewart Christmas special exploded in your cabin?"

At first, his question is only greeted by silence. "Miles? You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Why the hell are you at my cabin?" Miles sounds weird.

"You emailed me. Emailed a bunch of people in fact. I was expecting a big party, but it's just me and your enormous fucking Christmas tree." Bass shakes his head. "This place looks ridiculous, seriously. What gives?"

Miles moans into the phone. "Next week, you moron. You're supposed to come to the cabin NEXT WEEK."

"Nope. The email said today, so today is when I came here."

"Yeah, the first email said today. The follow up email I sent explained that I'd put the wrong date in the first one. Damnit! Doesn't anyone check their messages?"

Bass closes his eyes. He'd driven five hours to get here. "Where are you right now, Miles?"

"Detroit. Our flight was grounded because of the storm. Not getting out of here till tomorrow at the earliest. I uh…" Miles's voice trails off and Bass can picture his best friend looking around to see if anyone is listening. "I sort of had this thing planned for tonight. Me and Nora. Romantic bullshit there at the cabin. That's why everything looks like that. I hired a decorator to make it – you know - perfect."

Bass feels a sinking in his gut. "Perfect for what, Miles?"

"I was going to propose, okay? Nora has no idea so just get out of there and don't mess anything up. I paid a lot of money to get just the right mood."

"Propose? I guess I didn't know things were that serious."

"Well, we have been dating for six years. It was time. Now get out before you ruin it all."

Bass walks over to the window and looks out. Fat snowflakes are falling more rapidly than before. "Sorry, Miles. Not going anywhere tonight."

"And why is that?" Miles grits out.

"I was listening to the weather all the way here and that storm that has you stranded in Detroit is also heading this way. In fact, I'd say it's here now. Sorry, brother. I'm staying."

"No! You have to leave. Leave now!"

Bass watches through the veil of falling snow as headlights pull into the drive. "Hey, Miles?"

"Yeah?"

"You know anybody who drives a yellow Jeep?"

"Sweet Jesus. You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking." Miles sounds both exasperated and a little bit terrified.

"Not joking. Who is it? They just pulled in behind my truck."

"Leave. Leave now. Tell her to leave too."

"Her? Who's here, Miles?" Bass is straining to make out the figure, but the snow is falling heavily now.

"Charlie. It's Charlie. She must have not read the second email either." Miles sounds defeated now.

"Charlie is coming here?" Bass asks, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Was she coming alone or bringing a boyfriend or what?"

"Stop. Bass, just stop. Don't think about her that way. Don't look at her. Don't touch her. Don't anything her. Got it?"

"Whatever. Is Ben coming?"

"No. HE got the message. Said he and Rachel are going to some conference at MIT this weekend. I know Aaron got the message too. Jeremy and Maggie said they'd see us next week, so they got it. Same with Will and the others. It's just you two. Shit."

"What?"

"Is it really snowing so much that you can't leave?"

Bass watches as Charlie trudges toward the house. Her head is down because of the falling flakes. Her hair hangs in long ropey curls over the shoulders of her white down coat. "Well, that depends. Do you want me to attend your wedding? Cause I might wind up dead if I try to drive home now."

"Don't fuck with me, Bass. Is it really that bad?"

"It's a blizzard out here. The roads were already crap. They're just gonna get worse now. I'm staying."

"Don't touch her." Miles warns again, a hint of panic just under the surface of his words. "I know you. I know how you operate."

"Oh, shut up. I gotta go."

"Bass?"

"Talk to you tomorrow, Miles." Bass wonders if Miles can hear the smile in his voice. "Have fun at the airport."

The wind bites into her cheeks as Charlie grabs her bag from the back of the jeep. She pulls her hat down over her ears but the wind is wreaking havoc on her hair. It whips around wildly, reducing visibility of the cabin even more than the snow would have done on its own.

She trudges through the snow, thankful for warm boots and her down filled coat. Even through the wintry veil of snow, the cabin is a familiar and welcoming place. It's small, but Charlie doesn't care. She loves coming here and wouldn't have missed this chance to come back over the holidays.

Charlie shivers as she climbs the steps walks to the door. She tilts her head curiously when she sees the obnoxious wreath that is hanging there. "Well, that's new."

Before she even has a chance to grasp the knob, the door is thrown wide. "Merry Christmas, Charlotte."

She looks up quickly, eyes popping wide when she looks into the face of her uncle's best friend. He looks good, but then he always looks good. Charlie tries to ignore the way his black sweater accentuates his broad shoulders and the way his jeans show off his tightly muscled legs. "Uh, hey Bass. Where's Miles?"

Bass steps back so that she can walk past. "He and Nora are stuck in Detroit because of the storm."

"Detroit? Where's everybody else?"

"Not here and not coming. Evidently there was a second email. You and I appear to be the only ones who didn't read it. I guess everyone else is coming to the party next weekend. Miles put the wrong date in the first message."

Charlie walks past him, but comes to an abrupt stop, dropping her bag as she looks around. She nods toward the tree and garland. "So, what happened here? Did Miles do something for which Santa needed to punish him?"

Bass laughs. "I guess Miles hired a decorator. He wanted a specific feel for the place tonight, setting the mood and all that."

"Thought you said the party was next week."

"He didn't hire the decorator for us. This was all for Nora."

She nods slowly. "I see. Well, I think his decorator needs to lay off the eggnog. This is ridiculous."

"Agreed."

"The last time I was here, there were dried fish guts on the table and a beer can pyramid where that bear skin rug is lying in front of the fireplace. Wait. That's not really a bear skin rug, is it?"

Bass shrugs. "Seems like the decorator was going for cliché holiday romance."

"I'd say they achieved their goal. Never thought I'd miss dried fish guts, but I do."

Bass nods with a smile, and offers to take her coat.

"No way. It's cold in here. That wood's not just for show, right?"

"Looks real to me, and I think there's a bunch more on the back porch."

"Make a fire. I'll find the beer. Roads are getting bad. I think we'll be here a while."

Bass kneels down in front of the fireplace, and gets to work. "Yeah. I thought the same."

"Does Miles know we're even here?"

"Yeah. I talked to him just a little bit ago. Told me not to touch you." Bass glances over his shoulder and grins. "Told me not to touch you like five times."

Charlie rolls her eyes, even as her stomach does a little flip. "As if I would ever let you touch me."

"Keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart. The night is young."

Bass is still crouched in front of the fire, moving the logs and kindling around with a cast iron poker as the flames grow and lick at the cold air. Charlie frowns, her head still in the small fridge. "There's not much beer here."

"That can't be possible. Holidays or not, there's always beer."

"Well, tonight there's a six pack and that's it, except for the Champagne."

"Champagne?" Bass's mouth drops in shock. "Miles Matheson doesn't drink Champagne. Maybe this isn't his cabin after all."

"No. It's his cabin. The pictures of you two with the softball trophy from last summer are still hanging by the door. I checked just to be sure after I found the strawberries."

"Strawberries?" Bass shrugs. "I like strawberries. What's the problem?"

"Well, they're chocolate covered, and there are a lot of them. That is just about all the food in this whole cabin."

"You're joking."

"Well, I did find a box of pop tarts and an expired can of chili, but that's it. You didn't bring any food with you? Or beer?"

"No to food. I'm not the fucking caterer. This was supposed to be a party." Bass walks over to the duffel bag he'd thrown on the floor by the door. He opens it and digs around. "I did bring some whiskey, though."

Charlie smirks. "Figures. You're no caterer, but you've got the bartending covered."

"Well, one thing I've learned is that when you drink with Mathesons, there's never enough whiskey." He holds up a bottle that is a little more than half full.

"Good point." She goes over to her own bag and digs around. "I brought a fruit cake as a joke, but I guess it might be okay if we get really hungry." She holds up a plastic wrapped loaf.

"Oh goodie. Fruit cake." Bass shakes his head, but he's laughing.

The fire is blazing nicely, and the cabin is warming. Charlie shrugs out of her coat. She's wearing faded jeans and an old flannel shirt over a simple white tank top. She looks around, taking in all of the changes as she sits.

The cabin is small – one large room, really. Furniture is sparse. There is a bed in one corner. Usually it is left messy with mismatched bedding. Tonight, it is perfectly made with red flannel sheets and fluffy white pillows. The tree is tall and wide and takes up a lot of real estate in a corner near the fireplace. A bear skin rug (and yes it's real – Bass checked) lies on the wooden floor in front of the wide hearth. Garland and twinkle lights hang everywhere. White pillar candles sit in arrangements on the small table and on the fireplace mantle. The small loveseat where Charlie now sits has been recovered with forest green reindeer fabric and matching throw pillows have been tossed into each corner.

"So, we're stuck here in Christmas purgatory. What are we going to do?" Charlie asks.

Bass walks over and sits next to her on the loveseat. "Well, I think we're going to eat chocolate covered strawberries, drink champagne and you know…"

She arches an eye brow. "No. I don't know. What?"

"Eat fruit cake, of course. I mean, unless you had something else in mind?" He winks at her and she can't help but laugh.

"Miles always says you're a man whore. He's not wrong, huh?"

"Man whore is extreme. Do I love women? Yes. Do I have a great track record with commitment? Not really."

Charlie grins. "I think that is the actual, literal definition of man whore. You are clearly in denial."

"Thinking I'm not the only one."

"What are you talking about?" Charlie's heart jumps as she watches his gaze fall to her lips.

"Last summer at the fourth of July thing, you kissed this man whore. Didn't hear you complaining about it at the time. Are we ever going to talk about that?"

"Nope." She stands and walks to the tree, pretending to inspect the ornaments.

"Yeah. Like I said, it's not just me who's in denial." He leaves her alone then, walking into the small bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Charlie lets out a ragged breath. This is going to be difficult. She's had a thing for Bass since she was in high school. She isn't sure he'd even noticed her until last summer when she'd gotten drunk and kissed him. He'd certainly noticed then. She can still remember how it felt when he had begun to kiss her back.

She's brought out of her reverie by Bass's exclamation of "Well, shit!"

"What's wrong?"

Bass walks out of the bathroom and throws something her way. Reflexively, Charlie catches the black box. She looks down and feels her cheeks go hot. Magnum brand condoms, a twelve pack. 'Ribbed for her pleasure' is stamped on the front of the box. Charlie throws the box back at him. "Why are you carrying that around?"

"Found it in Miles's medicine cabinet. There are three more boxes in there too. Someone was feeling very optimistic." He shakes his head. "Or delusional. I couldn't even go through forty-eight condoms in a weekend. Damn."

Charlie is trying to avoid his eyes. It's difficult.

"I mean." He says, walking toward her. "Unless you really want to try? I do love a challenge." Gently he brushes a strand of hair away from her cheek.

"Stop it!" Charlie's blush deepens and she pushes him away, laughing nervously. "Thought you said Miles told you not to touch me."

"I'll keep my distance, unless, you know – you want me to touch you?" His smile has faded and he's looking at her with blazing blue eyes.

"Let's play cards or something?" Charlie suggests, wanting desperately to change the subject. She grabs the beer and heads to the table, pulling out one of the chairs and sitting.

Bass follows suit, and digs a tattered deck of cards from the drawer where they are always stored. He sits down across from her. She holds out a Bud Light.

Bass shakes his head. "I'll start with what I brought, but if you're happy with beer, you should stick with that." He casually sets the box of condoms on the table and places two coffee mugs next to it. Pouring some of his whiskey into one, he glances up. "Sure you don't want some of this?"

For just a moment, Charlie isn't sure if he's offering her the whiskey or something else, and to be honest, her answer is probably the same either way. Charlie looks longingly at the amber liquid in the mug. "Yeah, I want some."

Two hours later, the whiskey is almost gone and the cabin is toasty warm. Bass had found an old boom box and exactly one cd in the small closet. Now, the voice of an old Frank Sinatra Christmas album plays softly in the background.

Charlie is on her fourth glass of whiskey when she pulls off her flannel shirt, tossing it aside. Bass watches with hooded eyes. "Should we switch to strip poker?"

"Uh, no." Charlie shakes her head, trying not to grin.

"Well, that's too bad. Getting warm in here though."

Without warning, Bass yanks his sweater over his head. As he does, the plain white tee he wears below it, snags on the sweater, moving up and exposing an expanse of tight flesh. Charlie swallows hard, watching the way his abs clench. When the cotton undershirt falls back into place, she has to remind herself that it's for the best. This is Bass Monroe, after all - man whore extraordinaire.

"I'm hungry," Charlie says, hoping to distract herself from thoughts she shouldn't be having.

"Well, what's your poison?" Bass asks with a sly grin. "Fruitcake or strawberries?"

Charlie had forgotten about the strawberries. The look on Bass's face tells her he had not. She shrugs. "Not really in the mood for fruitcake."

"Me neither." Bass pads in sock feet to the fridge. He rinses out the mugs, pulls out the big glass bowl of strawberries and a bottle of champagne and heads toward the love seat with his arms full.

"So, do I get any of that?" She asks, tilting her head curiously.

"Yeah, but you gotta come over here. That chair is starting to hurt my ass. Time to get comfortable, don't you think?"

"I guess so." Charlie stands and walks his way. She moves slowly, not wanting to appear as drunk as she feels. After all, the last time she'd been drunk around this man, she'd attacked him. She sits down next to him on the love seat and reaches for a strawberry.

He shakes his head, handing her a mug of bubbly. "Patience, Charlotte." His tone is playful. His eyes are on her. "There's only one way to eat chocolate covered strawberries."

"Oh?" She sips the bubbly. "And what way is that?"

He picks a juicy berry from the bowl and holds it up. His eyes glint with mischief and something primal. "Open wide."

She starts to protest, but decides there is no point. Charlie opens her lips and takes a bite of the ripe fruit. Icy cold strawberry juice and rich dark chocolate assail her taste buds. She chews and swallows, never taking her eyes off his. Without being asked, she opens again for another bite.

"You like?" His voice sounds lower, grittier.

Charlie feels a heat building low in her belly – a heat that has nothing to do with all she's drank. With her mouth still full, she nods.

"Good. My turn." He holds out the bowl for her.

Charlie selects a plump berry from the bowl and lifts it toward his mouth. He leans forward but not enough. Charlie scoots closer and presses the strawberry against his lips. His eyes are on hers as he opens, enveloping the fruit into the warmth of his mouth. Before she can pull her fingers away, he grasps her wrist to hold her hand in place.

He never breaks eye contact as he begins to lick the berry juice from her fingertips. "Tastes so good." His words are soft and seductive.

Charlie is mesmerized by the feel of his rough tongue against her flesh. "The strawberry or the chocolate?" she asks breathlessly.

"The Charlie," He answers, pulling her closer still until she is nestled in the crook of his arm, looking up at him.

A smirk plays on her lips. "You think you can just charm my pants off, don't you?"

Bass dips down, biting lightly at her earlobe. "I think I'm gonna try."

He slides his fingers into her hair, turning her to face him fully. His eyes burn like hot pokers into her own and she's almost breathless when he finally leans in and kisses her. His lips are firm and warm against hers. She opens for him, biting lightly on his lower lip before he thrusts his tongue between her lips. He probes and explores, softly swirling his tongue in her warm mouth. She meets him halfway, her own tongue dancing with his.

They touch each other with curious fingers. Each brush and stroke is a revelation. She runs her hands down his back, and then up his front. She loves the feel of his chest – firm and lean. He groans against her lips as she scratches her nails across his nipples.

Without warning, Bass grasps her and pulls her up to straddle his lap. She doesn't complain, kissing him again with even more fervor than before. He runs his hands under her tank, feeling his way with feather light touches up her back. He reaches the clasp of her bra and flicks it open with an effortless move perfected over decades.

Charlie chuckles, shaking her head. Bass grins and shrugs in response. They start kissing again and he lifts the tank and bra off as one. She raises her arms to help him. Bass moves his focus from her mouth to her perfect breasts. He squeezes the mounds with his fingers, pinching at the nipples until they become hardened little peaks. Slowly, he paints one breast with his tongue. He stops to suck at her nipple before moving to the other breast where he starts the process over again.

Charlie is writhing against him, rubbing against the hard ridge of his cock. She whimpers when he pushes her off his lap. Charlie stands before him, breathing heavily. Her hair is wild and she's naked from the waist up. She watches him take her in with heated eyes. Bass stands and stalks to her, yanking her close. He picks her up effortlessly and tosses her back on the loveseat, bending one knee up beside her as he tackles the snap and zip on her jeans.

"Lift your hips." His voice holds a rough, desperate edge.

She does as he asks, allowing him to strip the denim from her legs. He traces the lace edges of her red panties, sliding his fingers between her thighs where the fabric is darker and very wet. He inhales deeply, savoring her scent. Bass's eyes lift to Charlie's. She bites her lip as he slowly rolls the panties down her legs. Tossing them over a shoulder, he wastes no time, leaning in to lick her slit. He starts slow and low, working his way up to her engorged clit. He flicks it with his tongue before going back down and repeating. He does this until Charlie can't take anymore, reaching down to rub the tender bud.

Bass smacks her hand away and finds her clit with his teeth. He sucks at it gently, simultaneously pushing two fingers into her dripping pussy. Charlie comes apart around his thrusting fingers. Her thighs clamp his head like a vice but he doesn't complain as he licks and sucks her through her orgasm.

Charlie slowly props herself up on her elbows to look at him. Her hair hangs in wild ringlets and her eyes look hazy. She smiles at him. "Bass, that was – "

He smiles. "We aren't done yet. Come with me."

"Where?" Charlie is dazed but willing.

He nods to the fireplace and the bear skin rug before it. He stands and Charlie can see that at some point, Bass had unfastened his jeans. His cock, thick and hard, is jutting up from the vee of the open fly.

"Damn," she says with reverence. "Damn."

Charlie lets Bass lead her over to the fur that is spread before the fire and she sits down on it, looking up at him. He keeps his gaze trained on hers as he shoves his jeans down and kicks them aside. He stands proudly while she takes in the view.

The view is impressive, and Charlie likes what she sees. She grins hungrily and crooks a finger, beckoning him to join her on the floor.

Bass shakes his head and Charlie pouts until she sees that he's gone to the table to retrieve the black box. As he walks toward her, he opens it and fishes out a condom. Tossing the box aside, he opens the pack.

Charlie stands on her knees. "Let me."

He shuffles closer, handing her the foil packet. She takes it, but doesn't put it on him yet. Bass's dick is right in front of her face. It's thick and long and it tantalizes Charlie. She leans forward, brushing his tip with her tongue. As she licks the pre-cum from his cock, she looks up and meets his eyes. Slowly she takes more of him in her hot mouth. He makes a noise that is rough and needy as she grasps his cock with her hand, pulling in a rhythm that matches what she's doing with her mouth. She understands and settles back so that she can roll the rubber down his dick. "Come down here," she says.

He does so without question, settling over her and kissing her mouth again. They can taste each other in the musky flavor combining on their tongues.

When Bass gently pushes her down onto her back; she complies eagerly. He kisses her again as the head of his cock bumps against her opening. He uses his hand to stroke up and down her slit. When he's happy that everything is ready, he eases forward ever so slowly.

He thrusts very shallowly at first, because even after all that he's done to prepare her, he's still bigger than her body is ready for. Bass is patient. He continues to kiss her as he presses inside, rocking deeper with each surge forward. He moves in and out, deepening his thrusts until she's accepted all he has to offer.

This is when Bass really begins to move. He fucks her with firm strokes, measuring his cock in her heat over and over. He slows, leaning in close. Their eyes lock and when Charlie comes again, the intensity of her orgasm takes her by surprise. Her body shudders around him as she bucks against his body. He thrusts faster once more, surging as deep as he can go before coming with a yell.

He presses a soft kiss to her lips and pulls from her slowly, rolling to his back. "I think I like Christmas purgatory," he says with a sated smile. "Now I think we need some sleep. Bed?"

"Bed," Charlie agrees.

Charlie wakes slowly, stretching under the covers. Aching muscles send flashes of memory through her mind like rapid machine gun fire. She groans into her pillow.

"Here. This might help." Bass sits on the edge of the bed. Groggily she sits up, clutching the blankets to her chest. He's holding out two aspirin and one of the coffee mugs filled with water.

She looks at the little pills blankly, her thoughts still in disarray.

"Come on Charlie. Take these. I know you're hurting this morning."

"Well, aren't you full of yourself," she mutters.

Bass throws back his head and laughs. "I didn't mean that kind of hurt." His eyes once again dance with mischief and want. "I thought you might have a headache. That's all. We drank a lot."

"Oh." She palms the pills and takes the mug of water. After washing them down, she looks around the cabin. He's stoked the fire and once again the room is warm. He's lit a few of the candles. They offer the only light other than a grayish glow that comes through the morning window. "You turned off the tree lights?"

"I didn't do it. We lost power." He points toward the door. "There's six feet of snow blocking the front porch. The windows on the North and West sides of the cabin too. That's why it looks so dark in here. Luckily all the firewood is in back so I can still get to it."

"Six feet?" This wakes her up like nothing else could. "How long are we going to be stuck here?"

"I texted Miles. He said the forecast shows the worst of it should be over."

"That's good."

"Well, he also said this isn't a busy road, so it will likely be a few days before the road crews get up here."

"So, we're stuck here for days?"

"Yep." Bass had put on jeans to tend to the fire. Now he unbuckles them and slides the worn denim down his legs, stepping out and heading for the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her brow furrowed.

He snuggles up to her, burying his face against her throat. Charlie feels a jolt of awareness at his touch.

She clamps her eyes shut. Stupid traitorous body.

"Figured after last night, my intentions would be pretty clear?" He nips lightly at her jaw and Charlie feels her nerve endings spark to life.

"Yeah, but now we're stuck here."

Something about the tone of her voice alerts him to her darkened mood. "So?"

Charlie won't meet his eyes. "So, last night happened, but today we were supposed to go on our way and in the future when we saw each other at parties or whatever, we were going to pretend it never happened."

Bass pulls away from her and props himself up on the pillows, his expression guarded. He doesn't say anything for a while. When he does finally speak, his voice is laced with tension although he tries to keep it light. "I never agreed to any of that."

"But, we both knew that's all it was." She shrugs. "Right?"

Bass flops back on the pillows. "So, this was just a fuck for you? A one-time thing? Just something to do while it was snowing outside? Bass Monroe, man-whore, good for nothing other than an easy lay?"

Charlie feels a wave of uncertainty. "Well, yeah? But no. I mean –"

"You mean what?" His eyes are closed and he sounds weary.

"I mean – that's what you do, and I don't want to make you think I expect something more. Miles told me…"

Bass's eyes snap open and he sits back up. "Miles told you what?"

"That all you do is one-nighters….that you hate commitment…that you think monogamy is a joke."

"Wow. I sound like quite the catch. I guess I'm lucky that he didn't tell you about all the STDs and illegitimate children."

Charlie swings to face him, finally. Her eyes are wide. "What?"

Bass reaches over and strokes her jawline slowly. "Miles is full of shit. That's what I was getting at. I don't have any diseases. Connor is my only kid – illegitimate or otherwise, but you know him. It's true that I am not known for my relationship skills…"

"But? It feels like there's a but..." Charlie feels a tiny stirring of hope.

"But, I've been thinking about that a lot lately, and I want to change. Miles knows this. We've talked about it. It scares him."

"Why would you deciding to not be a man-whore scare my uncle?"

Bass chuckles. "Because the turning point for me – the day where I decided monogamy maybe wasn't such a joke – the day that I stopped fucking random chicks for fun…"

"What about it?"

"It was the fourth of July."

Charlie is overcome with the memory of that night. Fireworks were booming. The sky was full of colorful starbursts. Someone was playing Credence and Charlie had been very drunk. Bass was walking by and Charlie had done the thing that felt right. Natural. Necessary.

She'd grabbed him by the sleeve of his tee shirt, and yanked him close to her body. She'd not given him any warning at all, standing on her tip-toes to kiss him. It had started out as a simple kiss, but hadn't stayed one for long. Bass had tossed his beer aside and wrapped his arms around Charlie. He'd deepened the kiss until she thought maybe she would die from the pleasure of it.

Far too soon, he had pulled away. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. "What just happened here?" he'd asked.

Charlie shook her head. "Sorry. I'm pretty drunk." She'd wandered off then, not willing to look back, afraid she'd see him smirking or, worse yet, telling Miles what had happened.

She looks at him now, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. "The fourth of July?"

Bass takes her hand in his, and begins to trace shapes into her palm. "Yes. After you kissed me that night, I tried not to think about it. About you. I tried to pretend it didn't happen."

"But?"

"It didn't work. You were in my head. Not just the kiss. Not just the fact that you are hot, even though you are."

"What was it then?"

"I think you've been driving me crazy for a while, but I didn't let myself see it. When I finally started to look at you like that, I couldn't stop. You are so smart and funny. You don't put up with anyone's shit and you are sexy and clever… I like you."

"But you live in Philly. I'm in Chicago. You're old enough to be –"

"Watch it." Bass warns, narrowing his eyes.

"But Miles - what would he say?"

Bass frowns. "I, uh, may have mentioned the kiss to Miles one night when I was wasted. Told him I couldn't stop thinking about you. He told me to stay away from you."

"That doesn't bode well." Charlie tries to hide the disappointment in her voice, but it's difficult.

Bass shakes his head. "I don't know. Maybe he'll come around. Look at this place." Bass waves to the room around them. The candlelight flickers and the tree's decorations glitter. The fire crackles merrily. "He did all this. Miles "Scrooge" Matheson did THIS. And maybe I have made some poor life choices, but he made a lot of the same ones. If he can change – if he can get a second chance, then so can I."

Charlie nods. "Yeah. That makes sense, but –"

"But, what?"

"It's been five months. You could have called?" She doesn't come right out and say it, but her meaning is clear. If he really liked her, why did he wait so long to make his move?

"I did call. Maybe the first weekend in August. I left a message."

"With who?" Charlie looks perplexed.

Bass's jaw tightens. "The guy who answered your phone. Said his name was Jason."

"Oh."

"Oh? Did you ever get my message, Charlie?"

"No." She shakes her head.

"Who's Jason, anyway?"

"He was my boyfriend. It wasn't that serious. We broke up in July. I think he only stopped by one time after that. I went to get some coffee while he collected his stuff. When I came back, he was gone."

Bass feels a familiar anger rising, but takes a deep breath. "You broke up in July?"

"Yeah. A couple weeks after the fourth."

"So, a couple weeks after you kissed me, you broke up with your boyfriend?"

"Yeah. I guess so. Or it might have not been two weeks. Maybe it was like, July 5th?"

"You kissed me and broke up with him the next day?"

She shrugs, her cheeks flaming pink. "Something like that."

"Were those two events connected in some way, Charlie?" He smiles and she has the urge to punch the cocky look right off his face.

"What do you think, dumbass?" Charlie rolls her eyes, pulling away from him slightly.

Bass wraps her in his arms and pulls her back into his warmth. He nuzzles against her throat. "I still want to hear you say it."

Charlie closes her eyes. This isn't cocky Monroe. This isn't jackass man-whore Monroe. This is just Bass, and the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes tells her that everything is going to be okay. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Maybe I like you?"

He pulls back and looks at her. "Maybe?"

"Yeah." She grins. "Maybe."

"Well, maybe I like you too."

She giggles a little as his fingers strum along her ribcage. "Good to know."

He sucks lightly at the flesh behind her ear. "Maybe I was offered a job in Chicago."

Charlie's heart skips into a thundering rhythm. "What?"

"Job offer in Chicago. I start on January 4th."

"And where will you live?"

"Don't know yet." He bites down on her earlobe. "Figured I'd stay with my girlfriend while I look for an apartment."

"You have a girlfriend, huh?" She turns her face, kissing him softly.

"You tell me, Charlie. Do I have a girlfriend?"

She grins against his lips as her hands begin to wander. "Yeah, maybe you do."

**END**

A/N: A big thank you to Romeo for acting as beta for this fic. Wishing all fellow Revo and Charloe fans (and my friend WildIrish in particular) a very Merry Christmas and a happy New Year! Please leave a comment if you have a moment.