Chapter 2

Charlie's answer came swiftly enough as she leaned forward and kissed Monroe, causing a shock of pleasure to go through him as his strong arms encircled her instantly. She pulled back and pressed her forehead to his, whispering, "what's wrong with me?"

Aha. That was one of Monroe's own favorite questions to himself of late. And in the past, he'd thought himself incapable of feeling so uncertain of the logic in his own motives.

"Nothing," Monroe said, his breath ragged from the urgency he felt pumping through his blood at the idea of grabbing her again and letting loose every impulse he had flinched against since he'd first recognized his obsession for her taking root. "There's nothing wrong with you. I feel this, too."

"You have no idea how I feel," Charlie said, sitting back a little. "I barely know. I think I've lost myself, or I'm trying to destroy myself out of some kind of guilt or—"

"It's not that. And don't underestimate how well I know you," Monroe stated. "What do you think I feel for you?"

"Lust?" Charlie asked, seeming fairly confident this was correct and cut and dry.

"Is that all you think I'm capable of?"

"So you're saying you don't lust after me?" Charlie smirked. Dammit, she had an ego to rival his own.

"Charlotte," Monroe said, reaching behind her head and removing the clip from her hair, loving the way it fell gently around her shoulders, "Of course I do. But it's more than that. I haven't been able to get you off my mind…ever since that night in the swimming pool…remember when you came skulking through the darkness trying to kill me, and that bounty hunter snagged you and tied you up down there with me?"

She laughed darkly. "What turned you on, the fact that I was trying to kill you or the bondage element?"

"Neither," Monroe replied, "When I opened my eyes and saw you there, so defiant…you were like this beautiful, perfect, avenging angel. Even though it was me you wanted revenge against, I couldn't deny what you stirred up in me. Maybe, on some level, I've always felt it, since the first time I saw you."

"You mean when you were holding my family prisoner?" Charlie asked, anger flashing in her eyes at the memory. But even that distaste for him on a basic level that had always characterized her attitude towards him was now complicated by hesitation, questioning, curiosity. Need.

"I'm sorry for the way I used to be," Monroe sighed. "I wish you could believe that I've changed. You're not some object to me and you never could be. I need you, Charlie." He didn't even know how to put his true feelings into words, especially since they kept growing by the moment.

She gazed at him wonderingly. "Alright. So prove it."

He needed no further invitation. Sweeping her back into his embrace, Monroe captured her lips in a kiss that exploded with unbridled passion and overwhelming emotion. Charlie fell easily on top of him as he entangled his hand in her hair. He was taken aback and spurred on by her own enthusiasm, as if she had shared this cruel magnetic draw between them all along as well, and now it was too much to resist. He flipped them so that she was under him and felt chills as her hands traveled all over him, pressing against his bare chest before raking up and down his back. Their hearts were pounding incessantly against each other as their kisses became deeper, even more searching.

This seemed to go on forever, until Monroe felt he was drowning and never wanted to come up for air. To have wanted her this badly, thinking he would never be able to touch her, and then to have this happen…it was more otherworldly and thrilling than he could have imagined. In a near-seamless transition that they effected without consulting one another in the least, various items of clothing were discarded and he had the full run of her body as she drove him completely insane with her every move. Maybe now, he thought as he watched her throw her head back and moan helplessly, reaching the height of ecstasy. Maybe now she understood how much he needed her and what she really meant to him.

She didn't run away afterwards as he'd feared, but lay her head against his shoulder, her body flung diagonally across the lavish bed, taking deep breaths and not looking at him. He stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes and then couldn't stand the suspense of silence any longer.

"I've never been with anyone like that," Monroe confided.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, roused from whatever reverie had her compelled to quiet contemplation.

"I mean, I've never felt anything like that in my entire life," he explained, knowing, however, that she already understood what he meant. The intensity, the closeness and perfection of possessing each other was so unbearably exquisite. "Have you?"

She still wouldn't meet his eyes. "No."

"It's not just that I liked that black dress so much, either…or that slip," Bass remarked, trying to suck a little tension out of the air.

"I didn't know what I was getting myself into when I came in here tonight," Charlie admitted, finally rolling over and propping her chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes. She seemed shocked by her own surrender.

"Neither did I," Monroe agreed, stroking her back.

"I'm terrified. This is totally crazy."

"It's not that crazy," Bass argued futilely.

"Do you really want to get into those details right now?" Charlie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Let's see. Did Monroe want to discuss all of his horrific character flaws and past mistakes, and how they ought to hold her back from him, right now? Definitely not. Possibly not ever. What was the point, anyway? It couldn't be changed and didn't change anything.

Ignoring the question, Bass replaced it with another couple. "What happens now? Do you want the files? I don't care, you can have them."

"Shut up," Charlie snapped. "I do trust you with them. That's how I know I'm losing my mind."

"How about big picture stuff…what happens now?"

"I don't know," Charlie answered. "I know I had no problem at all with dying until very recently. But that changed when I thought Tom Neville was going to kill me. For Jason."

Monroe kissed her forehead, understanding the horror of that ordeal. He let her talk.

"I found out that I did want to live, I did want to fight for what was right, for myself, and for everyone else who wanted to be free." Her voice halted. "That night by the train…when Neville had his gun on me again and you stopped him…were you protecting Miles, or were you protecting me?"

"What do you think?" Monroe replied easily. "I would have destroyed Tom in an instant for even thinking about hurting you. Miles can take care of himself." Charlie nodded, sensing the truth in his words, the same knowledge that had passed wordlessly between them that evening after he'd saved her, everyone else around them oblivious to the deep connection between herself and Bass.

"I can take care of myself, too," Charlie pointed out pridefully.

"True" Bass answered, "but that's not gonna stop me from protecting you anyway. I think…I think that I love you, Charlie." He looked at her lying there with her tousled hair and flushed cheeks, her lips parted as she took a breath of surprise, and concluded, "I know I love you."

Charlie shuddered at the power of this confession and shook her head, as if trying to stem the tide of forbidden thoughts running through her mind, racing through to her heart. "I never thought I would go against everything I believe in," she said, "To be with you. It doesn't make any sense."

She sat up and brushed her cheek quickly, making him wonder if she was crying. He put his hand on her shoulder but she shook it off. "Don't," she ordered, getting out of bed and putting her slip back on. One of the straps had broken in the heat of their encounter.

Monroe stood as well and pulled his pants on. "Charlie," he said simply, "don't walk away from me."

"I have to!" Charlie exclaimed, suddenly seeming torn between frustration and despair.

"Why?" he couldn't help pleading, losing the last vestiges of his dignity in one word. Well, what use was dignity, anyway? He'd been walled up in his autocratic solitude for years, and a more miserable bastard had never lived.

"Because," she replied matter-of-factly, still with her back to him. "I'm falling in love with you and I have to stop that from happening."

"You can't stop it, Charlotte," Monroe told her, "trust me. It takes one to know one."

"Quit asking me to trust you already," Charlie complained. "How can I?"

"I don't know. How can you and I be in love? How is any of this happening? But I'm glad it is."

"I can't even look at you right now," Charlie said, shaking her head with a posture and voice indicating a smile she couldn't suppress. "You're giving me that look again, I know it."

"Which one?" Bass inquired, his own features relaxing into an amused expression.

"The one that drives me nuts. The one where you look at me like I'm the only person in the world. And your eyes are basically florescent, which is not fair, by the way." She looked back tentatively over her shoulder.

"What, this look?" Monroe asked, doing a slightly exaggerated version of the longing gaze he'd been throwing her way for quite some time. He often did it even when they were arguing, which retrospectively had probably taken a lot of the believability out of his act of disliking her.

"That's the one," Charlie confirmed, turning to face him and crossing her arms, one gauzy black strap hanging uselessly to one side. "Then comes the worst part. When you call me Charlotte."

"That's your name," Monroe laughed.

"Oh, please," she sneered, "You know what you're doing."

"Well, two can play that game, Charlotte," Bass retorted. "What about the way you look at me?"

"How's that?"

"Like I'm the most exasperating human being in the world." He'd never know why he found that sassy, challenging glare of hers so intoxicating, but there it was. "And what about the way you dress? Why do you have to have that sexy little bare midriff every single day?"

"I'm not trying to be sexy," Charlie defended herself, straining his credulity.

"Please. You know what you're doing," Bass observed, "so who's fault is it that I can't keep my hands off you?"

"You are the most exasperating human being in the world," Charlie sighed. "But I don't want you to keep your hands off me. And, If I take one more step towards you, I'm going to fall back into bed with you. I can't."

"Because I'm a bad man?" Monroe asked.

"That's part of it," Charlie confirmed.

"Because this is going to change everything?"

"That's the rest of it," she answered, swallowing hard and shivering all of a sudden.

"Hey," Bass murmured, closing the space between them and hugging her close. "You okay?"

"You ruined everything," Charlie breathed against him. "I wasn't going to take that step towards you, but you did it for me."

"Sorry," he said tenderly, playing with her hair and enjoying the hot press of her cheek against his heart. "I couldn't help it."

"It's too late now," Charlie replied, leaning up to kiss him with a fire that seemed to tell stories about exactly how much everything had changed within the space of just an hour. There was no turning back now from their love.

Monroe would never put himself first again or blink at any hurdle he had to cross to get to Charlie. They were bound so intricately that he knew it had to be that way between them forever. He'd fight harder for his own redemption and to defeat the Patriots, all for Charlie, than he'd ever strived for anything. And against a universe that had seemingly been assembled intentionally and distinctly to prevent them from being together, there was nothing that could ever part Monroe and Charlie now.