I would just like to throw out a big thanks to all of you! Notably TheExperimenter10. She literally helped me understand my own character so much better. I wouldn't have been able to wrap my head around this chapter if it wasn't for her :)

When Gen was weeded out of the crowd, after her short conversation with Rachel, and placed in General Monroe's office at his request she wasn't surprised. Bass stood over a heavy mahogany table, looking down at a crisp map spread out of the Monroe Republic. A finger was poised on a point in the far western territories near the shores of old New Jersey, but his green eyes were fixated on another region ways from the west, lost in deep thought.

"What did our mutual friend say?" He glanced up; his tone flat and overall uninterested.

"She told me what I told you," Gen replied indifferently to match him. "She doesn't know how to turn the lights back on."

A low growl vibrated off Bass' throat as he straightening himself up.

Gen continued, trying to justify the lack of progress for Rachel's sake. "Miles couldn't get anywhere either."

"Don't -" He held his hand up to stop her from continuing. "Don't mention him."

"I'm sorry." She quickly attempted to revive the conversation before he wanted to play with her in his sadistic ways. "What do you plan on doing about Foster? Rumor's circulating in the barracks that she's planning to attack."

Sebastian Monroe smirked, sitting down on his polished chair and leaning back with his hands folded on his lap. He squinted his eyes slightly to focus on her face. "Foster's all talk and no action. She's the least of my concerns, but you're on a blurred line, Genevieve. When I look at you carefully I see myself staring back. What does that mean, do you think? Why is it," as he said this, his left hand curled into a fist. "Why is it that I never want to lose you but you make me hate you so much?"

Gen parted her lips to offer some sort of apology but she quickly realized that she had nothing to be sorry for. Bass had his green eyes firmly glued on her; all his senses were alert and studying every bat of her eyelashes. Suddenly the toe of his large combat boot began swiveling back and forth with force so that the office chair which he was situated on swayed to and fro.

It was moments like these—these stare-downs that brought out either of their boiling stubbornness and refusal to be the first one to fold—when Gen wanted to blow the joint and get the hell out of Pennsylvania. Miles had been coming to her mind lately and Gen wondered if it would've been better if she had with him when she had the chance. She could have saved herself a lot of trouble if she had. If it wasn't for the occasional salty remarks from Baker, Gen would have felt totally abandoned and disconnected to the times when things weren't so high strung.

Familiar faces were scarce now since Bass never trusted one person long enough to keep them around. Several loyal officers were overlooked and sent to far-off posts and replaced by easily indoctrinated men from the rabble of freshly trained recruits who were overly zealous war-mongers. When she finally realized how fast the world around her was moving, Gen's mind had an out of body sinking feeling. The overdeveloped sense of confidence and enthusiasm that came with youth was now wasted away with her sitting for hours and hours trapped in her bedroom.

She must have broken the stare sometime during the myriad of thought because when she blinked she was looking up into Sebastian's face.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, Gen?" His breath landed as warm caresses when the smooth syllables rolled off his tongue.

"I—" Her voice faltered, sputtered, and died.

"Talk to me, baby," Bass insisted, holding her elbows and pulling her against him as he took a step back to lean against the front of his desk.

"I don't feel well." She effortlessly pulled out of thin air. "I need to lie down."

He stood straighter, alert. "My room is close by."

"No," Gen almost said too quickly but caught herself. "I want to go where my books are. I need to be close to comfort."

"Gen," He chuckled, steering her toward the door reassuringly. "I can have them brought to you."

"Please," She begged, pretending to waver where she stood, forcing him to catch her waist before she tumbled backwards.

"Easy," He exclaimed, coiling his right arm under her knees and picking her up. "Open the door!" With wide, panic-filled eyes, Bass looked down to see Gen's neck bent back uncomfortably over his forearm.

The uniformed soldiers on guard just outside didn't miss a beat to push open the heavy doors to see their General holding the woman they all feared since her first welcome as they exited the militia recruit training ships. The once fierce woman now hung limply from Monroe's arms. "Get the fuck out of the way." He roared at the gaping soldiers, pushing past them and running as fast as he could to his large chambers.

He laid her against the clean sheets, pulling a chair up to the bedside. Gen kept still and controlled her breathing such that he couldn't tell that she was conscious. There was a chance that he would stay beside her but judging from his past neglect she doubted it.

But Bass caught her by surprise by rooting himself in his place and going to such lengths as to taking her hand between both of his. "You have to stay with me, Gen." He spoke softly next to her, squeezing her fingers. "Gen," He continued persistently. "Gen, I know you think I'm a real ass for letting things spiral out of control since the Blackout. It's getting harder for me to do things for you. Maybe…maybe that's why I get angry at you. I guess I blame you because I can't do things that I used to be able to. I want to give you what you deserve. But I'm not the man I used to be. You saw that before I did. I'm not the man you keep waiting for me to turn back into again. I've changed, and I've forced you to do the same. But you're not like all these socialites that I can depersonalize. That's proved counterproductive with you Matheson's."

Gen had heard enough of his cheap excuses. She sucked in a mouthful of air and let out a small moan followed by deep breaths which made her chest rise and fall steadily for him to see.

"Bass?" was her airy first words before her eyes slowly opened; eyelashes batting a few times to adjust to the bright stream of lights. After another soft moan she turned her head to rest her dewy eyes on him. He sat still with his hand still clasping hers, holding her fingers against his lips. A twinge of pity went through Gen's body. He was built like Adonis—charismatic, charming, had an all-or-nothing personality which ever girl would die to get a piece of—but though this was his main trophy, Bass was emotionally fragile. He proved it just a moment ago.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a slightly cracked voice.

She nodded, throwing him a drowsy look before sitting up, still acting. "What happened?"

He released her hand so that he could entwine his own fingers together, resting his scarred knuckles under his nose. "You fainted."

Gen feigned innocence with a helpless, sideways smile. "I guess it's the heat."

Bass kept his statuesque pose but shifted his gaze toward the air vent beneath the faded white crowing. There was a time when the bronze finished vent used to blow out cold air to cool down Independence Hall on hot days such as today. "I can close the windows." He offered, starting to move toward the large windows which he always kept thrown open. Gen caught his hand.

"No, please…just sit…with me."

He did as she asked without question or opposition. Sebastian may have separated himself from the world but he could never miss an opportunity to read a Matheson. And what years of experience had taught him was that Gen only behaved so endearingly when she had something up her sleeves.

"I've missed you." Her fingers grazed his dry lips then held his head to run her thumbs against his curved eyebrows. "I've always wanted you to be happy, Bass. And if I had any to give you, I would. I would give you my entire world if you wanted it." She sat up on her knees, dropping the act, and pulling him on the bed. "Do you want the moon, Bass? I'll give you the moon."

"I just want you." He whispered truthfully, easing their bodies against each other on the bed. She was warm. "You take all my stress away, Gen."

She ran her fingers through his curly blonde hair and brought his head against her chest. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Are you sure?"

Bass took the hand she had on his toned shoulder and kissed her palm. "It's the only thing I'm sure about."

They lay like that for forty five minutes, according to Gen's patient counting. He had fallen asleep half an hour ago and now it was time for her to leave. For good. Gen slipped out from underneath Monroe and was quite eager to climb out the open window and down to the balconies below, but she stopped for a moment to snatch the make-shift sword that Bass kept under the bed. With one last glance at him, Gen slid the sword into her belt, put her hands against the window pane and eased herself down to the first footing she could find.

When her feet touched the cobbled ground, Gen knew she was halfway done. Her adrenaline pumped double-time as she forced herself to casually walk toward the main gate and was allowed through without being stopped. It took her a moment to realize that she wasn't anywhere near done until she had gotten out of the Monroe Republic and so Gen's great escape began.