A/N: This chapter is a little longer, with a bit of smut thrown in because I can… A bit of stress, a bit of happiness and the calm before the storm… I know I promised a chapter or more a day, but I took an overly long nap before work and didn't have the time to post before going in. I'll post chapter 13 (I hope) before work tomorrow.

Twenty-three Days After The Attack…

The investigation was slowly starting to wind down. Charlie had spent the past week or so following leads in Jasper, only to return to Nashville empty handed. While she'd been gone one very nervous corporal had come forward on behalf of his company and implicated his commanding officer and both lieutenants under him.

The night of the attack, they'd hinted that some changes may have been on the horizon and had tried to feel out the attitudes of the men they lead. It had taken the men almost two weeks to decide that there was more to it than just talk and they'd taken a vote behind the officers' backs to come forward.

It hadn't taken Harris very long to get them to confess their involvement. They'd been garrisoned in Indy before Monroe had moved men around following the massacre up north and had come into contact with Connor there. They'd pledged their loyalty in exchange for a promise to promote them to the new tribunal when it was created.

On the night of the attack, they were to order their men to aid in taking the compound, but in the end they'd backed out. It hadn't been guilt or a newfound loyalty to their commander in chief that stayed their hands—it had been their lack of confidence in their men. And, they'd been right on that account. The men had remained loyal to Monroe, which had been the officers' ultimate undoing once they'd been turned in.

As the weeks had passed, Monroe found himself growing more lonely and isolated. Charlie's absence had not only left him feeling empty and alone, but had also meant that Harris was working double time outside of the compound as well. There was no one to break up the long hours of work and stress.

By the time that Charlie returned to Nashville, he was depressed, exhausted and increasingly paranoid. He frequently could be seen staring various members of both the household and administrative staff, as if he was trying to see if they had anything to hide.

The entire compound felt his change in demeanor. They were tiptoeing around him like he was ready to explode, which only made him feel more isolated. It was like in Philly all over again, only this time he could actually feel himself going crazy. The last time he'd been unaware of how nuts he'd become until he'd lost everything because of it.

Monroe was just finishing up his lonely dinner alone in his quarters, away from the prying and nervous eyes of the people around him. A gentle knock on the door to his quarters startled him out of his thoughts. Before he had a chance to respond, the door swung open and Charlie was standing there before him.

"You have a second?" she asked, looking almost wary.

Monroe nodded as he pushed his plate away. He grabbed his whiskey and got up from the small table. With a gesture towards the sofa, he waited for her to sit down and then joined her. He didn't speak, just watched her. This was the first time she'd come to his private quarters since the night all hell broke loose and he was torn between his need for her and his anger at her for having avoided him.

"You don't look so good," she began, her concern showing through.

He took a drink and shrugged. "The last few weeks have been a little stressful."

"I know." Charlie hesitated for a few moments before breaking into the topic that had brought her here. "I wanted to talk to you about Miles and my mom."

"What about them?" Monroe asked, stiffening. He was a little put off that her reason for being there had nothing to do with him at all.

"I know you're angry—and you have every right to be. I'm mad at them too, but isn't it time you let them out? You know they didn't plan this."

Monroe clenched his jaw and grasped desperately at his own temper. "Why is it that you always seemed more concerned with the fact that they're locked up than the fact that they tried to kill me—and that they almost got you killed in the process?"

Charlie was clearly wounded at the insinuation. "That's not fair. They're my family."

"They're attempted assassins. I think that I've been very accommodating, all things considered. I've let you keep them off the Tribunal's radar and they're comfortable and cared for," he ground out through gritted teeth.

"At least let me see them," she practically begged.

Monroe stood up and crossed the room to refill his glass. Maybe another drink would extinguish the flames of anger that rose within him. "The answer is no. Just whose side are you on?"

"Do you even hear yourself? What's happening to you?" Charlie spat the words at him. This was the second time he questioned her loyalty since she'd sat down and she'd be damned if she'd let him continue to do so.

"Maybe if you'd have been around a little, you'd know," Monroe countered, the bitterness flowing out of him.

Charlie got up and headed towards the door, unable to look at him any longer. "Maybe if you hadn't been acting like a child, I would have been." She left him with those words as she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Monroe's first instinct was to have her brought back to answer for her behavior, but he after a brief and intense struggle, he stopped himself. Deep down inside, a tiny voice of sanity told him she was right. That sliver of rational thought stayed him. Instead, he sat back down and proceeded to get drunk enough to pass out.

The next morning, he found himself still sitting there. He managed to pull himself up and get it together enough to start his day. He went from one meeting to another, but his thoughts stayed focused on their fight. After picking at his lunch, Monroe found himself outside of the quarters that had been a prison for the elder two Mathesons over the past weeks.

After sending the guards off with new instructions, he unlocked the door himself and stepped inside. Miles and Rachel were just finishing up their own meal. They both stood and eyed him warily as he stared them down.

"You're both to have full access of the residential half of the compound—except the third floor in the other wing." There was no way he wanted either of them anywhere near his quarters. The last thing he needed was to worry about a repeat of that night three weeks ago—he knew he was barely hanging on as it was.

"What?" Miles asked, incredulous. He'd given up on being released any time soon.

"You may stay in the compound for as long as you wish, or other arrangements may be made if you want to stay elsewhere in Nashville. Harris will see to it a train takes you anywhere you wish to go, should you decide to leave the city." He turned and reached for the door. "Try not to take any more hostages while you're here," he added over his shoulder before leaving them.

Miles and Rachel shared a worried look. He was letting them out with very little restrictions, which was more than they expected, but there was something about the way he carried himself now that had them worried. They'd both seen him this way before, and it did not bode well.

Late that evening, Monroe was weighing the options of getting completely tanked versus going to bed when Charlie barged in once more. "Why did you let them out?" she asked.

"Do you really need to ask that?" It struck him straight through the middle when she looked down at the floor rather than respond. He knew he'd been an ass when he'd pushed her away, but he still couldn't believe that things had deteriorated that badly between them so quickly. "I let them out for you."

Charlie closed the distance between them, both physically and otherwise. Her hand on his cheek was all it took to break the wall down he'd constructed around himself ever since he'd found out that Connor had left Jasper.

Moving fast enough to almost startle her, Monroe yanked Charlie too him. He'd had enough of being apart and wasn't going to let a chance to mend things go to waste. When she didn't protest, he crashed his mouth down on hers. When she eagerly responded, he decided to take a risk; he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

He hesitated in the doorway for just long enough to give Charlie a chance to change her mind. When no protest came, he laid her gently on the bed. When she kicked off her shoes, sending one flying across the room, he let a relieved laugh escape. If she was that eager, he had nothing to worry about.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his boots and then stretched out next to her. Gathering Charlie up in his arms, Monroe kissed her with a desperation he'd never known before. She opened for him, sighing as he swept inside, his tongue demanding a response from hers. Charlie eagerly kissed him back, her hands already working his shirt off.

He shrugged out of it and then yanked the undershirt he wore over his head. When he lowered his head again, his lips found her neck. "I missed you," he murmured as he worked down to the neckline of her shirt. Finding that it was in his way, he pulled it from her and continued on to her breasts.

Charlie panted and ran her fingers through his hair as Monroe cupped her breasts through her bra, bringing them together and pressing slow kisses between them. She arched her back and snaked her own hand under her back to undo the clasp, but he stopped her. "That's my job," he lightly admonished as he took over the task, flicking it open expertly.

He tossed the garment over his shoulder and went back to work, massaging and kissing the soft orbs, his tongue lashing at one nipple and then another. Already hard, he ground against her so she'd have no doubts about what she did to him.

Charlie was already bucking against his thigh, which pressed down on the apex of her legs. The friction was delicious. Taking the hint, he moved with her, chuckling when she started to whimper for more. Leaving her breasts, he placed hot kisses down her belly, fingers working her pants loose.

His rough hands skimmed her flesh as he brought them down. She all but screamed when his tongue met her skin right above the line of her panties. "Bass," she moaned. "Please."

He smiled to himself as he drew her cotton panties down, revealing her to him. She kicked her feet in an attempt to remove her pants the rest of the way. He stilled her with his hands and then did the honors for her so he could spread her thighs wide.

Settling between her legs, he parted the soft curls and lapped gently, running just the tip of his tongue up her slit, groaning at the taste of her desire for him that seeped through her soft folds. With Charlie's hand on the back of his head, he parted her completely and began making love to her with his mouth, his tongue slowly working in and out of her as she moved her hips in time to his licks.

"Oh god," she gasped as she threw her legs over his shoulders, locking him in place. He pulled back just a little and began to use his fingers to ply her, lowering his mouth again to torture her clit. He sucked on the sensitive nub gently as he worked two fingers in and out of her.

Charlie pumped her hip faster now, the buildup within her almost unbearable. She was just on the precipice when he slid up her body, earning him a frustrated whine. "Not without me," Monroe said as he lowered his lips to hers once more, the musky flavor of her arousal overwhelming and intoxicating them both.

Desperate for release, Charlie found his belt and scrambled to undo it and then work on his pants. He rolled off of her just long enough to yank them down, kicking himself free of his pants and boxers before settling between her legs once more.

Charlie guided him towards her center and he slammed into her, groaning as she sheathed him completely. "God, you feel good," he told her.

Too worked up to even process his words, Charlie wrapped her legs around him and grabbed at his ass with both hands and trying to pull him closer. When he pulled back and sank back in, she thought she was going to die.

Throbbing and unable to hold back, his thrusts were swift and forceful. Charlie gave as good as she got, bucking under him, meeting him each time he surged forward to reenter her. She urged him on, as she quickly built back up, cresting within minutes. She called his name as she clamped down, her body going rigid while she climaxed.

Urged on by her orgasm and his own pressing need, Monroe thrust wildly, all pretenses of rhythm and finesse lost in his haste. His mouth came crashing down as he lost control. One hand was under her ass, fingers digging in and forcing her pelvis up every time he slammed back in. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, he finally found his release. With a growl in his throat, he came hard, shooting himself deep inside as his whole body tensed up.

"Fuck," he panted as he eased off, aware that he may have been a bit rough with her. He didn't want to crush her, but was loath to pull out so soon, so he used what was left of his energy to roll them both over.

Charlie let out a satisfied purr. He was still just hard enough to remain inside her. She wrapped her limbs around him and buried her face in his neck as they laid there, hearts still pounding and slick bodies pressed close.

They dozed that way for quite some time. Eventually, Monroe slipped out of her. Resettling her in the crook of his arm, he held on tight, as if he was afraid she'd disappear if he let go of her. Charlie sighed in contentment as his thumb lightly stroked her upper arm.

"I needed you," he eventually said. "Where were you?"

"Not far away," she murmured. "I'm sorry I stayed away. After what they did—all because I was too stupid to tell them where I was… I didn't know how to face you."

Monroe tightened his arms around her, feeling better than he had in weeks. It didn't take very long for him to fall asleep. If he'd only have known that it this renewed happiness would be only fleeting, he'd have gone slower and savored the afterglow just a little longer.