Winter is all over you

Title and story inspiration taken from song of the same title by "First Aid Kit"

Bass Monroe and his son, Connor, stood in the front yard of Dr. Gene Porter's house saying their goodbyes. The war was finally over, and while Bass hadn't been able to give his son the Republic he had promised him in the long run, they had both seemingly come to terms over it. Conner was, however, chopping at the bit the return to Mexico. Charlie could only shake her head when she had heard. It was no secret that the Matheson's and Monroe's had spearheaded the rebellion. Connor was sure that he would return to his earlier home the conquering hero. If he was able to slide into his old mentors place, so much the better, and Bass would do anything for his son. Anything to make up for his absence. For his madness.

It had started to lightly rain as her mother and Miles said good-bye. She could hear Miles asking if they didn't want to wait till it blew past. Bass tilted his face to the sun that was still shining. "Nah, ain't nothing but a summer rain, Brother."

With a last shake of their hands Miles and Rachel turned towards the house, Miles squeezing her shoulder on the way inside. Making her way down the porch stairs, Connor met her first, simply holding his arms open with that boyish smile on his face. Charlie chuckled embracing him. "Take care of yourself, Conner."

"Yes Ma'am," he replied with a grin glancing over at his father. "I'll take care of him, too."

"Thanks."

He nodded before leading his horse out to the road.

Charlie watched him go before turning to his father who looked on with shuttered eyes.

Bass watched the warrior woman approach him slowly. Now that they had settled into a slower pace of life she only had the one knife strapped to her thigh, her others at the ready in the house, unable to put the past few years of violence to bed just yet. She had turned into the most accomplished fighter he had ever seen, out doing even himself and Miles in battle, and what did it say about him that his groin tightened at the thought. As Miles became even more entrenched in Rachel and their lives here, she had slowly become the Matheson he relied on. His chest tightened at the thought of not seeing her every morning and every night.

Walking towards him she didn't stop until their toes were touching. She watched as his eyes crinkled, pulling up the corners of his mouth. "Don't know what it's gonna be like without having a Monroe around to save."

He bowed his head looking at his feet, before meeting her eyes, both of them thinking about the last time she had saved his life.

They had spent the entire morning fighting, patriots crawling through the woods like termites. As usual they were nearer to each other than apart. He had just glanced in her direction when he saw her twist in his direction letting her knife fly. He can't imagine what his face must have looked like in that moment when he thought she had betrayed him before hearing the thud behind him. Turning, he saw a patriot soldier on the ground, knife embedded in his throat. Retrieving the knife and wiping the blood off on his pants, he handed it to her, his hand gripping hers when she reached to take it. He met her eyes, staring into them as they had one of their many wordless conversations. With a tight nod he released her and they continued on their way.

That night back at camp the soldiers were celebrating this, their final victory over the patriots, when someone drug out a guitar handing it to Miles. Charlie smirked as she settled down beside her mother to listen to him play. After a while she felt someone watching her. Scanning the area she saw him standing beside a tree just outside the ring of men. Whispering to her mother that she was heading to her tent, she rose and without a backwards glance headed in that direction. Entering her tent her hand went directly to her knife as someone grabbed her arm pulling her against them.

"Charlotte," he murmured near her ear causing her to instantly relax as he trailed his hands up and down her arms, his lips roaming her neck. She gasped as his hands moved to her abdomen, his rough and calloused fingers kneading her soft skin as they wondered under her shirt, rucking it up until he was able to tug on her bra spilling her breasts into his hands.

"Bass," she gasped as his fingers played her nipples, the way Miles had strummed his guitar. Charlie reached back, filling each hand with denim covered ass as she pulled him closer. Frustrated in her ability to touch him even though he now had one hand down her pants, making her drench herself, she tugged on his arm, keeping a hold of it before turning herself in his arms. Bringing his hand to her mouth, she drew the longest, wettest digit in to her mouth, running her tongue around it as she ever so slowly pulled it back out.

"Fuck, Charlie," he ground out as his mouth crashed into hers. That was all it took for clothes to start dropping as they stumbled their way to the pallet she had arranged earlier on the tent floor. Bass rolling her under him, even as she reached out to guide him home. Charlie was thankful the men outside were so raucous as it covered the sounds of their coupling. Grunts and moans, whispered encouragements, and the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping together could be heard plainly by any who paused by her tent. After he pulled out and spilled himself on her stomach they lay there quietly, hands entwined catching their breath. She held her fingers to his mouth when he propped himself up on an elbow and began to speak. "Don't," she whispered, "Don't ruin it with words." With a sad smile he took her hand, kissing her fingertips before reaching out to push a strand of hair behind her ear. Standing, he gathered his clothes from their various locations and dressed along the way. Stepping up to the tent flap he turned to look at her.

"Goodnight, Bass." She said with a smile.

"Night, Charlie."

That had been two months ago.

They turned in sync, as always, making their way towards the road where Connor was patiently waiting. Reaching the road they stopped, each about to say something before changing their minds. They simply smiled.

"Take care of yourself, Charlie. "

"You too, Bass." She said softly watching as he mounted his horse.

Before she could stop herself, she found herself tugging at his leg. He looked down quizzically at her.

"We're your family, too, Bass. Don't stay gone forever."

Reaching out he grasped her hand in his, giving her a quick nod, his emotions clogging his throat making it impossible to answer the beautiful woman in front of him.

Letting go of her hand, he spurred his horse into a trot, following Connor out-of-town.

Stopping before they reached the turn off, Bass turned his horse around to see Charlie still standing in the middle of the road.

Seeing him turn his horse to look back at her, Charlie raised her hand in goodbye, her tears hidden by the rain.

It took everything he had to leave.