A/N – Oops.

Uh, Happy New Year! And almost happy valentine's day…

So, yeah, my once-a-week schedule slipped JUST a bit. So sorry, guys. Combo of a bit of writer's block, the holidays, and a mad dash to finish grad school.

Anyway, enough excuses! Thanks for all of your reviews, favorites and follows. Reviewers all get personal apologies below, as usual.

This is a shorter update, but I'm so desperately embarrassed to be silent for so long that I wanted to give it to you. This story started out as just a plot bunny from a promo, and now I'm growing it in all kinds of ways. I hope it's still fun!

It was the hour before dawn, dark and cold as the tense curfew lay over the city. Soldiers were finishing their patrols, eager to head back to base and hand off to the next group. The residents of the neighborhood were asleep, however nervously, probably hoping that the new day would bring answers and calm after the panic of the explosion. And Miles Matheson was stealing through the streets.

He knew the city intimately, even after so many years away, and he would have felt free and fearless if it wasn't for the motley crew trailing behind him. Pausing in an alley to let a street sweeper pass, he looked back at them and silently counted. Niece? Check. Junior? Check. Nora? Glaring from the gloom. Aaron? Oh, crap.

This must be what a grade-school teacher felt like, he thought darkly to himself, motioning the group back to the center of the dark alley. Except, of course, most teachers weren't worried about their students being shot for treason. He moved silently back to the entrance they'd just used, scanning the streets behind for any sign of the bumbling technology executive.

Charlie followed, and as he felt her come up beside him he bent a look her way, a silent warning to stay put. She rolled her eyes and pointed across the street. Time was, he had a whole army that saluted any time they saw him. Now he had eyerolls and glares, if he was lucky.

He squinted in the direction she was pointing. They had crossed from the small side street that was directly opposite a few minutes ago, and he saw no sign of Aaron there. A good thing, too, he thought, as the latest pair of militia soldiers had just turned down that street on patrol. If they didn't keep moving, his timing was going to be thrown off and they'd never get close to Bass or headquarters. Or Danny.

Charlie let out a frustrated little puff of air and pointed again, more insistently. She was about to open her mouth to just tell him, but he shook his head sharply. The last thing they needed was to wake up someone in the apartments above and get reported.

He refocused his gaze across the street, tensing when he finally found what Charlie had been indicating. There, in a recessed doorway about 50 feet from the street now patrolled by two chatty militia men, was Aaron. He was skulking as far back into the shadows as he could, but it wouldn't take more than a cursory glance to pick him out. Miles looked more closely at the patrol. They'd turned to face the alley where he and the others were waiting, but didn't appear suspicious, just lazy. Their position meant there was no way that Aaron would make it across the street unnoticed, however. He was at a loss as to how to get Aaron to safety without bloodshed they didn't need.

The sky was softening, going grey around the edges. It was almost dawn. A tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to the group arrayed behind him. This time it wasn't Charlie, but Jason who stood just at his back. How had they managed the switch so quietly? Damn ninja kids. Miles raised a questioning eyebrow.

The kid indicated a circular pattern, pointing down the alley, to himself, and then to the patrol loitering across the street. He wanted to play decoy by sneaking out the other end of the alley and coming around? Miles stopped a moment to consider – young Neville would have the most likely and truthful story to explain himself. But even his excuses weren't ironclad. They might just arrest him again. But what better ideas do you have, Matheson?

Miles grimaced. He couldn't wait it out – the timing of the next few intersections was too important. He nodded shortly in the dim alley, indicating to Neville that he agreed, and then held up a hand. Assuming the kid wasn't about to betray them all, they'd need to agree on a rendezvous.

They had three more checkpoints to pass before they were anywhere near the next safe spot to talk. Junior would have to make his own way to meet them there. Miles pulled out the shorthand plan he'd written a few hours ago. He'd intended to destroy it so that if he was captured it couldn't tip Bass off to the others' movements. But he was glad now that he'd forgotten.

He jabbed a finger at a scrawled abbreviation, about half-way down the scrap of paper, and waited for acknowledgment from Junior. The boy nodded and jogged off down the alley. Miles stuffed the plan back into his shirt, ignoring Charlie's frantic confusion. As long as she stayed quiet, she could mouth whatever she wanted his way.

Although he hadn't realized she even knew that word.

Danny slept poorly. The air felt heavy and his hard cot seemed to have a new lump every time he turned over. When he did manage to fall asleep, he had dreams. Well, nightmares.

He saw Charlie, lying dead on the side of a road near home, stretched out next to their father. The militia men were laughing, and his mother was nowhere to be found. That faded, only to be replaced by General Monroe, holding a gun to his mother's head and asking him over and over, "Where in Ohio? Where is she from?" He pleaded that he didn't know, they hadn't talked about it, but the general kept pulling the trigger. His mother would slump to the ground, only to disappear and re-enter from a side door, walking calmly to her death with disappointment in her eyes.

A rattle of the bars woke him, but he refused to acknowledge it. The guards baited him all the time, and his reactions were one of the few things left he could control.

"Get up, idiot," the guard ground out, whacking the bars again with his nightstick. "You've got a visitor."

Mom? It was an irrational hope, but it had him sitting up and turning to see, though he did his best to keep his face neutral.

"Hello, Danny boy."

The voice sent an icy finger down his spine. The cold eyes that went with it were an unwelcome surprise. Neville. What the hell could the sick bastard want with him now?

"Captain." He kept his voice flat, and leaned back against the wall, hoping to God he looked unconcerned.

"Not happy to see me?" Neville's smile was feral, and Danny scowled as he fought back a shiver. "You served me quite well. I got a promotion, you know. It's Major now. See that you remember."

A quick nod to the lingering guard had the door to his cell swinging open. Danny was hauled to his feet, one arm twisted behind his back. They knew he liked to throw elbows, he thought with a grim smile.

"Shall we go for a little walk?" Neville asked. "I'd like a word that's a bit more… private." Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked back down the long hallway.

The guard propelled him, stumbling, forward. Danny was on high alert. Any moment could bring the chance to escape. He hadn't been out of the cell since they'd brought him to meet his mother.

His mother. He skidded to a halt, causing the guard to twist his arm harder in annoyance. He couldn't escape without dooming his mother.

"Control your prisoner, sergeant," Neville snapped.

With a shove from behind, he was moving again. He could see the captain – no, major – waiting impatiently at the end of the cell block. As they got closer, Danny remembered someone else: Eve. Her cell would be close to the end. He cut his eyes to the left, and sure enough, she was standing close to the bars, watching silently. He got the impression of lots of curly blonde hair, pale skin, and wide eyes that might be grey before he was past her and turning the corner to leave the jail room completely.

Neville was swinging his handgun loosely in his right hand, but he tensed and raised it when the guard released Danny's arm.

"My turn," Neville said, and his grip was tighter and more painful than the guard's had been. The cool metal of a gun barrel on his neck kept Danny from protesting. Gritting his teeth, he let himself be marched out of the room, around several corners and through an atrium.

This place is huge, he thought with some frustration. He could barely remember the series of turns they'd taken to get to the small room where another guard was currently tying him to a chair.

"You have a gun," Danny pointed out unnecessarily as the guard finished and left the room. "Why tie me up too? Scared I might hurt you?"

Neville laughed nastily. "He speaks! No, boy, I'm less likely to shoot you for the hell of it if you're immobilized."

"And you don't want to do that, since General Monroe happens to want me alive," Danny snarked. He knew he should be stoic and silent, but what was the point? He didn't know anything, so the only information that could get revealed in this conversation would be on Neville's part. Might as well keep him talking.

"For now," Neville shot back, striding across the room to get right in Danny's face. "I'll be first in line if that should change."

"Nice to know you care."

"You have caused me nothing but trouble, boy." Neville hadn't given ground, and was staring Danny down with a vengeful glint in his eyes. "I'd love to repay the favor."

"You killed my father," Danny ground out, his voice cracking at the end of the sentence. "Consider it repaid."

"Oh, I did. I was ready to relax in my townhouse, mark it a mission completed, and forget all about the Mathesons and their troublemaking ways." Neville paced to the door, looking out through the soundproof pane at the guard standing 10 feet away.

Danny's attention sharpened. He was talking in plurals. That must mean he knew something about Charlie.

"So why are you back? I haven't been all that busy," Danny said. "Not much space to get into trouble."

Neville was across the room in three strides, slamming his palms against the table so it rattled. "He came to MY HOUSE!" he yelled. Danny flinched in spite of himself. Here was the soldier with no leash on his vicious temper that Danny had met a few times on the trip. The madman capable of anything.

The older man's hands were shaking when he lifted them from the metal surface. "He came to my house," he repeated. "He put my family at risk. He has made this very, very personal."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Danny knew that, somehow, Charlie had tracked them to the train in Pennsylvania. There had been the awful moment where Neville threatened to kill her, and then his soldier had thrown her from the train.

"Oh, that's right," Neville cracked a nasty smile. "You would have been too young to remember your dear Uncle Miles, wouldn't you?"

Jason's heart was pounding almost as much as his aching head, not surprising considering how fast he'd just speedwalked four city blocks to circle back to this intersection. He didn't glance at the alley, but did take a moment to lock eyes with the fat guy, Aaron, who was still cowering in a doorway. He'd looked much more intimidating wielding a frying pan. But it had to have been a long ten minutes, Jason supposed, considering that these militia men were stalled way too close to his position. He winked quickly, and then blanked his face, moving on.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he shuffled further down the street, trying to look for all the world like someone legitimately on his way home. Trouble was, curfew didn't lift for another hour and a half. No one should be out without a permit or a uniform. Jason had neither.

He heard the moment the military banter stopped, the men likely hearing his footsteps and deciding whether or not to challenge his passage.

"Hold on," one of them called out. "We need to see some ID, sir."

He'd had four blocks to come up with a plan. It wasn't great, but he was hoping they'd bite. He turned down the street toward them, knowing that he needed to get their backs to the alley in order for Miles to give a signal to Aaron.

"Of course, of…" Jason dug down into his pockets and looked deliberately sheepish. "Well, shit. I forgot I had to change suddenly on account of the firefighters." He was almost level with them now, and he put his hands in the air with a shrug, looking as unthreatening as possible.

The taller soldier on the right let a hand drift toward his gun. His patrol partner just looked confused.

"What's one got to do with the other?" the tall soldier snapped.

"Listen, boys," Jason said soothingly, "it's been a hell of a long day. First the explosion, and then the salvage, and then the firefighters hauled in these huge buckets from the river and didn't check to see whether any militia were in range."

He'd circled around them, moving to a stoop about 10 feet beyond their location and sinking down as if bone-weary. They turned, as he'd hoped. Now to buy time. "I'd have just kept my uniform on, because really, it would have saved us all the trouble, but the captain was furious and made the fire crew pay for dry clothes for all seven of us."

"Where's your uniform, then?" the shorter soldier asked.

"Getting cleaned, of course. That river water is filthy! Not to mention all the soot. I reckon Captain Forsythe saw a chance to save us men some money." Jason carefully dropped the name of the company captain whose men bunked a house down from his own on training missions. He knew their faces, and could be sure these two weren't among them.

"Forsythe, eh?"

"Who're you, then? No papers, no uniform. Mind showing us your tattoo?" The taller man had moved his hand away from his gun, but still looked dubious.

Finally, something he did have. Sliding his sleeve up, he gave them a few seconds to verify that it was genuine. From the corner of his eye, he caught movement in the street behind them. Hopefully Matheson had Aaron back with the group and someone else bringing up the rear from here on out.

"Private Matty Jones," he said, extending a friendly hand. "Nice to meet you. Now would you let a poor soldier go home and get some sleep?"

They all shook hands, and the patrolmen indicated that he should wait as they moved off to discuss his fate. Jason sunk his sore head into his hands and smile grimly. He wasn't about to get arrested again. He could take these two despite his injuries, he was certain. He wished he had the smooth wood of his bow to rely on, but his father had taught him how to fight in any situation. He'd give the old man that much credit.

But his nerves were unnecessary. The shorter soldier – Joe, he'd said his name was – ground his cigarette under his boot and grinned.

"Sorry to keep you, Private. Just doing our jobs."

Jason relaxed his shoulders and stood slowly. "Much appreciated," he nodded to them.

"Course, other patrols might not be so forgiving," Bill, the taller one, said coldly. "I'd hurry home if I were you."

As their footsteps faded down the brick street, Jason acknowledged the sting of those last words. He didn't have a home to go back to, not anymore.

Might as well go forward, then, he chided himself as he started walking. He'd probably beat them to the rendezvous. One man could move faster than a group in the dark before dawn.

A/N: So there you have it. A bit to get me started again. Your reviews do the rest. (Charlie was SUPPOSED to get her own segment this chapter, but she's misbehaving and Miles made her wait.) I know there was no fluff, but I had to do SOMETHING to get the plot moving! Like I said above, I'm aiming for weekly installments. And now that I've said that, I'll be forced to do it.

And now, my lovely reviewers:

Cori573: It's a small fandom still, for sure. I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

Soon baboon: This doesn't count as soon, I know, but hopefully you still like where it's going!

Becc-gallanter: I'm so glad that you like the pace with Charlie and Jason! There's a lot of stuff happening to them, and so I just can't imagine that falling in love would get their undivided attention. Sorry this one wasn't as long! I will fix that. Next time. :)

AslanPrincess: At long last! Your request actually inspired a whole subplot for me. I know this was chapter was mostly a filler to move the plot out of the house, but I loved writing Danny and Neville. So snarky, so mean. I hope it lived up to expectations.

Nyah1: Thank you! Sorry they didn't get a chance to make eyes at each other here… there's always more of that coming, though.

Yessiree: Thank you! I love them too. So much potential!

Inhalelove-exhalehate12: Oh good, I'm glad you don't think it's getting out of hand. The only problem with more characters is less space for Charlie and Jason to make nice. But I'm working on it. Got a couple of good ideas.

Ashy143: Waiting till March is AWFUL. So glad you're watching and enjoying! And I'm awfully sorry this took me so long. Silly holidays.

PixieSky: Thank you for the kind words! Yeah, Danny's had a tough time of it. At least Charlie's doing something and feels like she has a mission. He's just getting beat up and used as leverage. But hopefully he's starting to wise up.

Boasamishipper: What an AWESOME review. Yes! Exactly. Good catch, and I bet you can see where the drama is going to come from there.

Softballlover298: I totally understand! Maybe now that it's dreary January I'll do better with updates and we'll all be happy.

Bookdiva: LOL – you hadn't reviewed! I felt so abandoned! It took me FOREVER to figure out the next bit. And then I got lazy, and baked pies, and there were baby goats, and I graduated! But yeah, this was my bad.

Wierd Goth Girl: Thank you for the review! I am usually much better about updates.

Happyhappybobo: Thank you! I hope this was entertaining too.

RLBB: Thanks for the compliments.