- Author's Note: I don't own the characters or Revolution; I'm just playing with them for a bit for fun, not profit. T for language and some sexual themes. Mild spoilers for 1.8.

Three weeks later

Moonlight streamed in through a window, opened to let in the faint breeze. Miles was sprawled out on top of his large bed, clad only in his boxers; it was an unbearable August night, and even with the luxury of a chunk of lake ice thawing on his bedside table, his sleeping form was coated in sweat. He felt a small, warm hand run over his back and down his abs. He moaned with pleasure. The small hand moved down.

He jerked awake, realizing that this was no dream, "What the fuck?!" he exclaimed as he grabbed the hand with his left and reached for his short-sword on the bedside table with his right.

As he blinked the sleep from his eyes he saw the spunky young woman from a few weeks before, Nora, striped down to her utilitarian bra and undies. Miles had hoped to see her again, but hadn't imagined it would be under this sort of situation. "What the hell?!" he said more clearly, still holding her forearm firmly, "Are you drunk?" Not that he could smell any alcohol on her breath, but still...

She leaned her head down, clearly intending to kiss him. "I thought you wanted this," she said.

"Oh, whoa, I-I-I don't want this," he stammered.

"Well, I think you do…" she affirmed, glancing meaningfully down at the bulge in his boxers, her warm, soft lips brushing his neck.

Miles grunted and shoved her off the bed, away from his body, "Okay, that is the minority vote. And you tricked it. Okay? A guy's asleep! Could have been Fozzie Bear and it would have… Not that I think about Fozzie Bear…" He put his sword down and picked up his trusty Zippo, lighting the oil lamp on his bedside table.

"Let's stop playing games," she spoke, gathering her dignity about her like a shawl. The well-trimmed oil lamp cast a lovely amber glow on her bronze skin.

"Okay, how does this qualify as not playing games?" retorted Miles, gesticulating with the hand that was holding the lighter, "Anyways you said you didn't do this: not for food, not for gold."

"But I'm not, this is for my sister." She said, sashaying towards him, hands stroking his defined abs once more. Miles was more disgusted than aroused by this affectation of wanton sexuality. The idea of such a proud woman submitting to this out of some sort of obligation turned his stomach as if he had eaten week-old road-kill.

He groaned and pushed her away once more, and she instinctively clocked him on the chin with the palm of her hand. Miles shook off the pain and disorientation, his respect for her increasing yet again.

She uttered crisply, "We both know why you helped my sister. You did it for this."

"You don't know me," exclaimed Miles pain seeping into his voice. He put down the lighter and grabbed his pants from the floor.

"Oh yes I do! You are some military monster who occasionally gets his rocks off playing at being a White Knight, rescuing Damsels in Distress. But let me tell you, we didn't need you, we don't need help from anybody, and once I repay this debt, we'll never see you again," pronounced Nora, hands on her hips, chest bellowed out, full of righteous indignation.

Miles could tell that this fiercely independent attitude was a façade covering some deep source of pain. If he were a psychologist he'd spout of some psychobabble about daddy-issues, or external validation, or agency, or some crap like that, but he wasn't – had only sat through his PTSD sessions interacting with the shrink as little as possible – so he only knew to tread lightly.

"There is no debt. Yeah, I want you. But not like this. Not 'cause of that," said Miles, stepping into his pants, "Now get out of here before I have to take you into custody for bombing Badger's whorehouse. You know, there was some collateral damage."

Miles had bet that she was involved in the bombing and now her body language not only confirmed his hunch but also showed a distinct lack of shame; he was surprised to deduce that Nora was no stranger to using bombs, and she had probably figured that some bystanders would be hurt. The bomb had gone off in the late afternoon; it was set in Badger's office. Badger, one of the early-shift bartenders, and one whore were killed. A few whores were injured. Miles supposed from the timing and location that her primary objective was to kill Badger, but not to eliminate the clients.

"Hey, is your sister okay?" Miles asked as he watched the woman pull on her clothes.

Nora turned her head to look at Miles and replied, "Yeah, she's fine."

Miles sensed her hesitancy to talk about the topic. "Good. The investigation into child sex-slave trafficking is proceeding well. The sergeant and captain involved have been 'tried' and executed. We haven't been able to find the trio directly involved in your sister's abduction but we'll get 'em."

Nora smiled and said, "I told you we don't need you. You'll never find them. At least not in one piece."

Miles whistled appreciatively, damn, that was HOT, but he decided he needed to end the conversation before his will-power vanished, and took her up on her offer, no matter how bitter the aftertaste would be. "Good. I suppose you can see yourself out?"

Nora nodded and padded toward the open 3rd floor window. If her sister was an alley cat, Nora was a leopard, thought Miles. As she climbed down she paused, arms resting on the windowsill and asked, "Who's Fozzie Bear?" He just laughed, and after a moment she continued climbing down, Miles suppressed a grin and leaned back into bed half-dressed.

Miles hoped that it wouldn't be the last time he saw her. She was one hell of a woman. She had snuck her way into his bedroom in the president's compound, she was familiar with bombs, and had tailed the dumb-fucks who took her sister for 5 days. And she was drop-dead gorgeous, he thought wistfully.

His last thought as he nodded off to sleep was, he should really tighten security on the president's compound. Gotta keep Bass safe from the crazies out there.

- Author's Note: I'm not sure if I want to continue this story any further; I have ideas for two more chapters ending with Miles and Nora sleeping together out of lust and mutual respect, but I also like this narrative construct. IDK. Reviews, comments on continuation, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated :)