Author's Note

I am sorry I have not been around for a while. London takes all my will to write. This City is exhausting.

This is as far as I have gotten, but as previously promised, I will finish this story.

Thank you for all of you, who have kept on asking for the next chapter.

I cannot guarantee, when the next one will be up, as I still need to write them. It's all in my head, but I cannot seem to put it down on 'paper'.

Let me know what you think,

Your writer

Bass's POV

"NO" I growl stubbornly and glare at Nutter.

"Fine" He sighs and pushes the wheelchair away from me. "But if you pull your stiches, I will not be held responsible...Stubborn prick."

"There is no way I will be wheeled out of the plane. I assume my wife already worries enough, no need to give her a heart attack" I tell him and get up from my seat, trying not to grimace as that movement does pull on my stitches. But obviously, I was not as good at hiding it as I thought I was, because Nutter shoots me a pointed look and Reggie just laughs at the two of us.

The Cargo door of the plane open, revealing sunny, but windy Chicago. I grab my bag, but Nutter is quick to snatch it from me. "One word and I will send you right back to where we came from" He says making Reggie laugh again.

We walk down the Cargo bay and I can see Charlie, Miles, Connor and Alex waiting for me on the other side of the air field. I try to quicken my steps, but my wound forbids me from doing that. "We would be quicker, if you only had sat your stubborn ass into the wheelchair." Nutter points out, but I ignore him. The only thing that matters to me right now, are the people waiting for me.

Suddenly there is gunfire and Nutter quickly dives on top of me. As I raise my head, I am back in the sandbox and we are surrounded by the Taliban.

"How the fuck did I get here?" I question and push Nutter off me.

"Uncle Sam put us here...that's how" Nutter says as he crawls behind a bush. "There is no way in hell, I am renewing my contract." Nutter shouts above the gun fire.

I look around and then I am back on the air field. But Miles and Connor aren't there, instead there are Taliban holding a gun to the heads of my wife and son. How the hell did they find me? Did they follow us in the plane? Who betrayed me?

They keep shouting at me, but I cannot make out what they are saying, I am too far away. As I take a step forward, they shoot Charlie and Alex in the head.

I cannot breath. I sink to my knees.

"Bass...Bass" I jerk awake and find Charlie looking at me with a worried expression. "Are you okay?"

"How am I supposed to be okay, when I just saw you and Alex die again?" I snap and get out of bed. I strip out of my sweat soaked shirt and walk out of the room, not wanting to see the pity and worry in her eyes.

These dreams have become worse. They start of harmless; with the memories of the day I came back and first saw my family on that landing strip. But then they turn bad. Every dream ends with my family dying. I can never get to them, I can never save them.

I walk downstairs, past the couch Connor is currently sleeping on, and right into the kitchen. I rummage through the cupboards, to find the bottle of the good whisky which Charlie keeps around for special occasions.

I sit down on the table and stare at it for a long while. I would love to take a drink, drown my sorrows in booze, but I cannot do that to Charlie and Alex again. So instead I come down here every night and look at the bottle, reminding myself to keep it together for my family's sake.

"I am sorry" I say, without turning around. She can be as quiet as she wants, but I will always feel when she is near. "I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Charlie steps behind me. I close my eyes and lean back, so that the back of my head is resting just under her breasts. She slowly starts massaging my head with her fingers and gets me to relax. This is the first time she has followed me down here, after I had a bad dream. She usually just stays awake until I return, because Charlie knows I need a moment to cool down.

"It is okay...Don't worry about it" my wife almost whispers.

"I don't deserve you...you deserve more than this" I say and she stills her hands, making me whimper. I like the feeling of her hands going through my hair. It is such a simple thing, but it calms me nevertheless.

"You liked that huh?" She asks and I can hear that she is smiling. I only nod and her hands start moving again. With a sigh she says quietly "We have been over this. No matter how often you say it, I am staying where I am. I love you and you are not broken. I am happy where I am...just don't tell that to my husband, he doesn't know about us."

I shoot out of my seat and she backs away from me. Mischief is sparkling in her eyes and she has trouble keeping the grin of her face. Trust her to make a joke in a serious conversation. But I am glad she did. She made me think of something else, but my damaged self.

"So...you don't want me to tell your husband that you are in love with me?" I keep my face blank and stalk towards her. Charlie only nods and steps away from me.

"Yeah you know...he can be an ass sometime...and he has a mean right hook. Would be a shame, if your pretty face was damaged in the process." She answers and gives up on hiding the grin. God, how much I love this woman!

"Oh... I think I can take him" I assure her and back her against the fridge. "Thank you" I add before claiming her lips. She opens her lips instantly and lets me in. Our tongues are duelling for power and I press my body into her to get even closer to her. As the need for air becomes too much, we pull apart and I lean my forehead onto hers.

"Why did you thank me?" She whispers.

"Because you keep tacking my mind of things, having my back and never backing down, even when I am being an asshole. Even though you do it with bad attempts of a joke, I love it and I am grateful for it," I reply and she pushes me away from her.

"Bad attempt...I am very funny and you know it" She says and I can't help but laugh out loud.

"About as funny as a German comedian" I retort and quickly run out of the kitchen, with her hot on my heels.

"You take that back" She shout whispers and manages to latch onto my pants as we are running up the stairs. I nearly face plant and she giggles.

I turn a little around, grab her arm and pull her onto the same step as myself. "Nope" I simply say and run my hands down her torso. "You might need to make me" I whisper into her ear. She gasps as my fingers find their way under the shirt she is wearing and push her poor excuse for underwear out of the way.

I find her already wet and push my finger into her. Charlie's eyes grow wide and she looks around, trying to see if either Connor or Alex have woken. "Don't worry they are both asleep" I assure her and start working my finger in and out of her.

Seconds later, I have her exactly where I want and pull my fingers out of her. "Bastard" She mutters and shoots me a glare. I pull my pants down and sit down on the step. "We can't...if Alex wakes..."

"You just have to be quiet." I say and pull her onto my lap. I swallow a groan, as she slips right onto me. "Holy shit" She mumbles and I can already feel that she is close to falling over the edge.

Charlie starts moving on top of me and I can already feel that I won't last long. My stamina has taken a serious down turn, after all those months in the desert and even though I have been back for two weeks now, I have yet to last longer than five minutes. This is slowly getting embarrassing and the worse is when she is on top of me. It feels too damn good.

"Ohhh" she swallows a scream as she comes and clenches around me. She rocks her hips couple more times and I come with a groan of my own.

I don't know for how long we sit there, but as I feel her shiver I pick her and carry her back to the bed room. Once we are back in bed, I draw her close and not long after, her breathing evens out and she is fast asleep.