Hey! So very nice to see you again. As promised: another chapter for this story. The next chapter will be the last one, because there was still so many that needed to be told, I just had to write more. I decided to add another chapter.

And after these two chapters, it's on to the second story, wich I named: 'Things change.' If you are curious about Monroe's thoughts from this story, you will find more about that in that second story. I hope you will enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Revolution, just a daydream about what could have happened. ;-)

A blanket

The rain had stopped during the night. The curtain of raindrops faded slowly and when the sun came up, it made the raindrops on the leaves light up like little crystals. The shed had kept both of them dry, warm and hidden from the world.

Sleep had not been an easy thing at first for Charlie that night, although she felt comfort from the small shed and the small fire still giving her some warmth. But the day ahead full of uncertainty, full of dread, full of the past meeting the present constantly keeping her company.

And somewhere further in the back of her mind a constant replay from the moment where her body locked with Monroe's for a moment. Why did her mind keep going back to that moment? Why had she been so overly aware of his body. Why was she all of a sudden so aware about hers?

Just when she decided that sleep was for another night, she had drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep. When she woke up she found herself curled up under a blanket. A blanket that she was sure was not wrapped around her when she fell asleep. A blanket , she knew for sure was not even hers because she left hers in the wagon, at her own annoyance.

The intense rain made her decide that the shelter, her jacket and the fire had to be enough to keep her warm. That, and her stubbornness of course. She kept her eyes closed for a moment. She was laying under his blanket. It smelled like him. And just at the moment when her mind was deciding what it was exactly that made the scent typically Monroe, another part of her mind jolted her back to reality. Back to sanity even Charlie decided. She was not going to do this. It was just a stupid blanket, he just did not want her arriving sick in Willoughby. That would not help him with the whole 'needing Miles on his side with good behaviour'- thing.

The first thing Charlie saw when she opened up her eyes was indeed Monroe, still sitting against the wall. His weapon, as always , close to his body, ready for anything. His eyes closed.

Charlie got up from under the blanket silently, stretched her body, and walked outside. She had to blink because the sunlight was sharp. The morning air cool. She felt unsure what to do. For a moment she got lingered in that feeling but then she shook her head. This was not her. She knew what had to be done. It was time for their last couple of miles on the road. Determination took over.

She turned around to find Monroe was up too and was getting the horses ready in front of the wagon. She could see he had taken the same decision, his movements sure. Already focused on what had to be done too. At least, that was one thing she kind of liked about him.

She went back and entered the shed one last time and quickly packed her few belongings. His blanket was still on the floor where she had slept. She folded it and took it in her hands. Charlie then threw her bag together with her crossbow over one shoulder and walked to Monroe.

He had his back towards her , but when he noticed she was walking directly at him and stopped close to him, he turned around, meeting her eyes.

There was a small breeze playing with her hair and she had to pull a string of hair from her face. Charlie noticed how Monroe followed the movement of her hand with his eyes. It was subtle, but she noticed.

Without words she slowly reached out one hand to him holding the blanket . His eyes turned to the ground, then again to her. The moment his eyes reached her eyes again he took the blanket from her hands. Charlie turned her head to the right, looking at something that was not even there. She heard what was apparently her own voice, very far away.

'Thank you.'

It was somewhere close to a whisper, nowhere near the tone she wanted to hear when speaking to Monroe.

She started to walk towards to back of the wagon and did not wait for his reaction.

So, yes, a thank you from Charlie to Monroe. Over a blanket. Or was it more than about the blanket? :) The next chapter is almost ready too, so you can expect that very soon! Thanks for reading everybody!