Halloween dreams …till dawn, part 4.
A Revolution fic (Blackout AU): Sebastian (Bass) Monroe/Charlotte (Charlie) Matheson, Charloe. Rating M…
The war against the Patriots was still going months after Texas put Davis on trial as a traitor then somehow let him escape and there'd been reports of a Patriot remnant, a small group of cadets and a handler, hiding out in a little one cantina town in the hills near the Mexican border. Bass and Charlie had gone to investigate, leaving their unit in the next town over cleaning up another little mess. It was the last day of October, Halloween, almost the day of the dead…
AN: This is for the Good Ship Charloe, Charloeween fic fest and I so hoped to have it posted for the day itself… but, never mind. Thank you so much for reading, and for your lovely comments. I hope you enjoy this. And thanks again to LoveForTheStory for her insight and great advice, thanks Love! There'll be one more update, very soon. Magpie
Halloween dreams…till dawn. Part 4
Commander Shirlee Jenkins was sitting with her back to the wall on the table furthest from the bar and the stage, trying to ignore the music. She looked around the table at her team, thin lips curled in a sneer. It was very clear to her that Washington was scraping from the bottom of the barrel. Or at least she assumed it was Washington. Her last orders had come from somewhere in Idaho. Damn it, even the fact that she was the one sitting here and not someone more suited to playing word games was a testament to how badly they were doing. How much they needed the help of this… whoever and whatever she was.
Tossing back her whiskey she set the glass down hard on the stained table, glaring over at the still sweating messenger, cursing his report, her orders and the fact that she was sitting here waiting on the whim of some weirdo scientist while her people were getting slaughtered by Sebastian Monroe and his Texan traitors over in the next town.
She was a soldier damn it. Not a fucking politician.
She gritted her teeth. Along with the crowd of rough looking farming town types in the bar tonight, all five of her so-called regulars as well as the two new cadets seated round the table had their eyes glued to the stage and the nearly naked woman dancing up there.
Her eyes flicked up, scorn twisting her face into a mask of distaste. The dancer's toned, oiled body was writhing and swaying in time to the thudding, pounding music, a curling feather headdress bobbing above her head and a large white snake coiling around her hips and shoulders. It was indecent. If she had her way, places like this would be burned down like the trash they were.
Dismissing the show with a shake of her head, Shirlee scowled and reached over for the bottle of whisky on the table, pouring herself another small one. How the fuck they expected her to keep fighting Texas and the damned rebels without properly trained troops and adequate resources she didn't know. Almost without thinking about it her hand went up to her inside jacket pocket just to make sure the leather bag with the diamonds was still in there and safe. It was, just as it had been the last time she checked.
She scowled again. Payment shouldn't be required. In her opinion, the ex DoD scientist calling herself the Magician should be volunteering her talents in the service of the rightful government of the United States. She shouldn't need bribing to do her duty - or be selling herself and her skills in a tavern like a cheap whore.
She straightened up, feeling movement in the air behind her.
Speak of the devil.
Her skin crawled and her hands clenched into fists under the table as slim fingers slid over her shoulder, their long fingernails painted a deep, bloody red, livid against the khaki uniform, and she just managed to resist the urge to reach up and break a couple of those fingers as their host's elegant body curled down onto the empty seat next to her.
None of her men seemed to notice the new arrival, too busy watching the action on the stage, eyes fixed and avid and tongues hanging out like the useless lumps of dung they were. She gritted her teeth…
'Welcome to the Titty Teaser, Shirlee.' The Magician's voice was soft and sweet with a slight Mexican accent and it floated over the noise around them like cream over coffee.
A small part of Shirlee Jenkins noticed that the scientist was gorgeous. Tall, curvy in all the right places with smooth, creamy skin and big, kohl lined dark eyes. The full lips were painted as red as her nails and a short, skin-tight black dress showed off her hourglass figure. She looked young though, much younger than Shirlee had expected, much too young to have been working in the pre-blackout DoD. This woman only looked to be in her twenties, if that…and how the hell did the bitch know her name anyway?
The Magician leaned forwards slightly, breasts plumping above her arm, a thick silver oval pendant on a heavy chain glinting and caught between them. 'You wanted to speak with me?'
Shirlee looked up from those breasts and fell into hypnotic, swirling dark eyes and managing to pull herself back only with an effort of will honed over the long, hard years. The power of those eyes sent a shiver of unease started at her toes, working it's way up her spine and she sat up straighter, glaring. 'It's Commanding Officer Jenkins,' unable to keep the growl out of her voice even though she was supposed to play nice. 'And I'm here to see the Magician. Where is she?'
The other woman shrugged and smiled, tongue slipping out over those red lips as though tasting something delicious. 'She's right here… or maybe she isn't. It depends how much I like what you've brought me.' She reached across the table, patting the pocket containing the little leather bag.
Shirlee jerked back, knocking the hand away in a reflexive movement and going for her sword. She stopped herself just in time…
The Magician smiled like a cat then yawned, her fingers hovering in front of her lips. 'Hmm… it's a generous gift. And I was starting to think your President didn't want me.' The beautiful face leaned closer, eyes narrowed, the smile gone. 'But he made me wait, an' now you're too late.' She lifted a graceful hand above her head and clicked her fingers.
Over in the corner of the room a heavy set man in worn biker leathers saw her signal, nodded once, and got up.
…
Behind the ornate bead curtain that hung between the cloak room where they were waiting and the main bar, Charlie was rigid with tension, all kinds of tension, her hand wrapped around the hilt of her knife and her lips tight, 'Happy Halloween my ass. I'm still pissed that Blanchard didn't tell us about his little deal with the Magician before we got here.' She glanced behind her and up at him, eyes glittering.
Bass shrugged, 'She did say they're old friends… and he doesn't know what happened to you in Austin, or about Jenkins, so I guess he thought he was doing us a favour.' He was close behind her, one hand resting lightly on her hip, the other hovering near his sword belt and his lips close to her ear. 'And he's paid for us to have a few days holiday here all expenses paid.' His fingers spread out over the bare, smooth skin at her midriff, brushing the delicate hip bone with his fingertips. He breathed her in, the scent and feel of her like a drug he couldn't get enough of. 'It's quite thoughtful of him really, '
'I guess…' She shivered at the feel of him so close, his hot breath sending a tingle down her spine that had everything to do with the fact that as well as being keyed up about the meeting with Jenkins, she was still horny as hell, with no chance to do anything about it, yet anyway. She tightened her thighs, squeezing her clit and between them, trying to take the edge off. 'Some holiday though, I think the Magician just wants to eat you up. I'd have to spend all my time fighting her off.' She put on a sultry, Mexican voice, 'Oh Sebastian, it is so good to finally meet you, now I have to kiss you and slobber all over you…'
His lips twitched, 'yeah, but I don't think she'll do it again, especially after you accidentally trod all over her feet.'
She laughed this time then leaned back against him, reaching between them with her free hand, sliding it over his thigh. 'It worked, didn't it, but remind me to tell Blanchard that I don't like surprises, ok? Especially tall, dark and gorgeous ones.' Her eyes slanted up at him. 'And just so you know, Monroe, I don't share very well.'
It felt so damn fucking good to have her hands on him. 'You've got nothing to worry about, Charlie, I told you before, I like beautiful, fearless blonds that I trust with my life.' He fought with the urge to rip her jeans off and sink himself into her right here, right now, balls and all, to hell with everyone and everything else.
She slanted a glance up at him, eyes full of promises, her hand stroking closer to where his cock stirred, aching for her. 'Alright, as long as Blanchard's paying, maybe we could stay tonight, after we finish with Jenkins? It'd be nice to have a night in a real bed.'
The thought of her naked, lying back on white sheets and soft pillows sent hot flashes from his head to his toes and all points between. 'Sounds like a plan to me.' Then he remembered something, 'Charlie, I hate to say this but Blanchard wants her alive, remember? He's sending a troop of Rangers to pick her up.' He jumped as her hand tightened hard in a reflex round his dick, the sensation verging on pain as her fingernails scraped his balls.
She let go right away, her fingers soft in apology but the knuckles of her other hand were white around the hilt of her knife and her voice had hard steel in it. 'Then we could have a problem.'
He caught her eyes, needing her to know he was on her side. 'Hey, Blanchard might want her still breathing, doesn't mean I do.' Then he froze, peering between the beads and around strands of her hair, one of the Magician's men was waving them in. 'There's the signal.'
She twisted round to look up at him, her eyes hard and determined and all Matheson. 'She's mine, ok? You can have all the others.'
He bent down to kiss her, her lips tasting sweet and dark, full of rage and the promise of revenge and passion and he drank her down. 'You can have whatever you want.'
She kissed him back, hard and fast, her hands pulling him skin tight against her, one of her legs twisting around his, his cock a hard ridge against her belly and her pussy hot and humid on his thigh. She pulled back just enough to see his face, hers fierce, 'I want you, in a bed or out of it, straight after we do this, ok?'
He sucked in a breath, anticipation and sheer need streaking through him like lava streams down a mountain, 'Charlie, you're reading my mail.'
…..
For a long moment, Shirlee Jenkins couldn't take in what the Magician had said. It didn't seem to make sense. Then she saw Sebastian Monroe and a strangely familiar blonde coming towards her across the room with death written on both their faces and knew that somehow, things had gone very, very wrong.
She looked around. She and her men were trapped in this room. Every exit was blocked by what had to be the Magician's private army, all armed to the teeth. There were no reinforcements within range and no way to contact them anyway. She didn't understand what was happening. This was supposed to be a negotiation, a simple trade of diamonds for loyalty, instead she was more and more convinced that it had been a trap from the start.
The music had softened to a kind of Latino guitar drawl and the dancer was leaning on the drum kit, body swaying as she watched the new show. The other patrons in the bar had turned and were watching too. In fact it seemed that every eye in the place was on her and her men and except for the fact that there was a general exodus from the tables around them as people moved to a safe distance, no one seemed bothered at all that there was about to be one hell of a bar fight.
Her lips curled in a sneer, judging by the type of clientele and the calibre of entertainment on show tonight, bar fights were probably a regular part of the show.
The Magician stood up in one lithe movement, still beautiful but somehow predatory. She looked older, harder, as though under the beauty there was something else, something very different. 'I'd say come back again sometime, Shirlee,' she shrugged and flicked her fingers in a little wave, 'but somehow I don't think I'll see you again.' Then she turned and walked over to the bar, hips swaying in that dress like something out of a pre-blackout fashion magazine as she took a drink from the bartender and laughed at something he said as though she hadn't a care in the world.
Commander Shirlee Jenkins watched her go, the taste of failure like a stone in her gut and part of her wondering what she'd just seen. Then she got to her feet and drew her sword, feeling every long year of a hard, bitter life in her bones and cursing the fact that she'd come prepared for negotiation, not battle.
There was the sound of chairs scraping on the floor around her and her lips tightened. Her men had finally realized that something was wrong and were on their feet, fumbling for their weapons and getting in each other's way. She glared and they shuffled back, giving her room but surrounding and shielding her as they'd been trained to do. Out of long habit, she made a mental note that her two cadets were actually doing pretty well, much better than the others. They were calm, alert, flanking her and waiting for orders, a credit to her training, true weapons. She allowed herself a moment of pride.
But as Sebastian Monroe came closer, tall, graceful, deadly, a sword swinging from each hand in a relaxed, easy grip, she found herself feeling almost sorry for them. Because even with all that youth and training she knew they wouldn't be good enough. Not against him.
She gave the order anyway then watched stone faced, any hope of getting out of this mess evaporating as Monroe circled her men like a hunting shark then sent his twin swords scything through all seven of them in turn like hot knives through fat without them landing a single blow in return. She watched, reluctant admiration rising like acid in her throat as he finished the last one, her last cadet with a symmetry of uppercut and cross swing so smooth and fine that she was almost glad she'd lived long enough to see it.
And as she stood there, vaguely aware of the blood spreading over the floor at her feet and that the room was filled with excited shouts and cheers that just kept getting louder and louder, all she could think about was that he was possibly the best she'd ever seen.
After Monroe finished slaughtering her men, he went and stood behind the girl, not even breathing hard, just standing there with swords dripping blood like death himself, a cold smile and hard, brilliant blue eyes riding that famous, handsome face.
And that was when the blond girl stepped forward. Moving easily, smoothly over the bloody floor, all blue stare and bravado, her sword held in a steady hand. And unless Shirlee was very much mistaken, that was real, honest hatred shining in those pretty eyes.
She briefly wondered why, then raised her sword and waited, her brow creasing as a small, distant memory surfaced of this same girl and a young man, dark haired, good looking, coming into her shop in Austin before the failed attempt to assassinate Carver. They'd said they were part of the cadet cell sent to do the job and she'd sent them upstairs to join the others. It was definitely the same girl, but that didn't explain the hate in her eyes.
Then another face rose up from that day, Jason. A disappointment. She'd expected more from him than to find him dead without completing his mission.
So, was it coincidence? Or something else...
Charlie stopped just out of reach, her sword held ready as she studied the tall, thin figure of Commander Shirlee Jenkins. The woman looked thin, old and wrinkled in a worn, baggy uniform, almost pathetic really, but she wasn't. She really wasn't. She was a high-ranking officer in the Patriot army, a soldier. Charlie had seen her in the square, had seen Jason walking away from her. This woman, this…patriot… had activated him, she was sure of it.
The big room was quiet now, voices hushed, and the band had stopped playing. The Magician was watching from the bar, a little smile playing around her lips, her fingers gently stroking the pendant around her neck.
Charlie lifted her sword, glad to see it was steady because she was working to get her voice out past the lump of anger, hate and anguish in her throat at the memory of seeing Jason fall. Of having to pull the trigger and kill him because he wouldn't stop trying to kill her, because the patriots and this woman had turned him into someone else, someone who didn't know her, who didn't care about anything except killing.
She found her voice at last but it came out as a harsh whisper. 'Do you remember me? From Austin?'
The woman nodded, her hooded eyes cold and strangely empty. 'Maybe.'
'And do you remember Jason Neville?'
Another nod. Something flickered in those cold eyes. Curiosity? Malice? 'I remember that he failed, that he let someone stop him completing his mission. Let someone kill him.' Her head tilted and she shifted her grip on the sword. 'Was it you?' the eyes narrowed, looking Charlie up and down, 'if it was, you're either a lot better than you look or very lucky. Jason was a good soldier, I know, I helped train him.'
Charlie felt her body go cold, frozen and she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak.
Shirlee nodded, slowly. 'It was you, wasn't it? Or is this about something else?' The thin lips were curved in a smile that had nothing friendly about it, that was all insinuation and scorn. 'He was a good looking boy, I can understand if you were attracted,' then she shrugged, 'shame you ended up on opposite sides though, wasn't it.'
Charlie felt the awful cold recede, because that was wrong. At the very end, just before he died, Jason had been himself, it had just been a glimpse, but it had been there. She stood very straight, very calm. 'He wasn't on your side. You tried to make him into something he wasn't, but in the end it didn't work, because he came back.'
She could feel Bass behind her, could feel the heat from his body, his strength and support, solid and fierce, absolute. She and Jason had had something. Something that might have been more if this world had given them a chance, but now she had Bass Monroe, and she'd never been more sure and certain of anything in her life.
She felt all the eyes on her, the hot curiosity of the crowd and their thirst for more blood.
They weren't going to get it though, at least not from her, not tonight. Because Shirlee Jenkins was right, she'd been lucky, luckier than Jason that day in Austin, not better. Jason was a good soldier, at least he'd tried to be, he'd also tried to be better than the people who wanted to control him. He'd proven that over and over. And she knew what Jason would want her to do right now. He wouldn't want her to waste good intel, not for revenge. They were still at war and this woman knew things that could help them win.
She took a deep breath and sheathed her sword. The snick of metal on leather seemed to echo round the room. 'I want you to remember that you failed,' Then she turned and walked away, her hand reaching out towards Bass.
He sheathed his swords in a flash of reddened steel and followed.
Shirlee Jenkins stared after the two of them, her eyes empty, her sword taken from her hand by the men she hadn't noticed come up behind her, and as they pushed a ball gag into her mouth, stopping her using the only option she had left, Monroe glanced back and she saw the cold smile cross his face, saw the look in those blue eyes and knew he was the one who warned them about the cyanide tooth.
She kept staring while they tied her hands behind her back with rough, efficient hands before searching her for her other weapons.
But neither of them looked back again.
And as her captors led her away, the babble of voices returned, the clink of glasses rose above the guitars and drums and the band started up again as though nothing had happened.
She tasted failure then and it was ashes and old rubber in her mouth.
…..
AN: This story took a turn down a darker road than I thought it was going to, but I hope you liked how it turned out. I really wanted to let Charlie face some of her own, personal demons – and come out the other side.
Thanks so much for reading! There's one more chapter to go, it'll be up soon, and Charlie and Bass will finally have some time to themselves lol! But it is still Halloween (in the story anyway ) and spooky things could still happen - as well as Charloe things lol! Cheers, Magpie
Then he pulled her into his arms, the hard strength of him the only home she had now. The only home she needed.