Author's Note: My attempt at a sorta-fix-up for 1x06 - 'Drugs and Sex'. Miles gets his badass attitude back and promptly ends up with Charlie in the no-go-area. I swear that show is deliberately trying to kill us with these two.
Disclaimer: I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

His eyes are unreadable as Miles watches her walking down the road, head held high and determination etched into every line of her body, and dammit, but seeing Charlie like that stirs more than just his protective instincts. The darker side of him admires her strength and is proud of her for all the wrong reasons.

"Oh, c'mon, Millie, stop looking like that. It's all just fun and games."

Drexel steps up beside him and leans with his back against the railing surrounding the terrace but Miles ignores him and keeps his focus on the point where Charlie disappeared into the dark night.

"Your warrior princess over there must have been a real wildcat in bed if she's gotten you so worked up."

There's no doubt who Drexel means and Miles tenses, his fingers flexing around the rail of their own volition. He grits his teeth as he sees Drexel's lips twist into a smirk. Son of a bitch.

"My, my," Drexel drawls and nudges Miles with his shoulder, "I wouldn't have minded finding out how wi-"

Something snaps inside Miles and he acts without thinking, grabs Drexel roughly by his throat and shoves him up against one of the stone statues, his fingers digging into Drexel's skin as he crushes the other man's windpipe. Gone is the grovelling and pathetic weakling who came begging for help and in his place is once more that cold-blooded and ruthless General from all those years ago.

For a few seconds, it's him who's got the upper hand, quite literally as he squeezes Drexel's throat tighter and tighter, but then Miles feels the barrel of a rifle pressed against the back of his head in warning and he's torn out of his red haze. As much as he wants to see this through till the end, he can't, not without risking the lives of Aaron and Nora, and Charlie-

Charlie.

Whom he's already failed once, back in their room when Drexel had hit her and he'd done nothing. Miles remembers the disappointment and frustration in her eyes as she'd cradled her bruised cheek and it had been like a sledgehammer to the gut. He should have done something, could have gone through with his threat of choking Drexel or should have used him as their ticket out of here, but he'd been such a fucking coward and left Charlie to pay the price.

And now he's failing her again, has no other choice but to back down once more if he wants them all to live. The spirit to fight deserts him all of the sudden and Miles abruptly lets go of Drexel, disgusted with himself. He shoulders past the armed guards, his hands clenched into fists, and stalks across the terrace.

"Look at you," Drexel calls after him, sounding as if he's laughing and coughing at the same time, "you have fallen, Miles, fallen hard for that girl."

Miles doesn't stop, keeps on walking, even though his mind is spinning because—

Because Drexel is actually right. This isn't just simple physical attraction between Charlie and him, it goes far deeper than that, always has, and if Miles is honest with himself, he's been aware of it for some time now.

When it comes to that slip of a girl (young woman, the treacherous voice in his mind whispers), his self-control and any rational thinking always seem to take a leave of absence. Only Charlie has the power to strip him down to the bone with her words and actions, layer by layer, until nothing remains but the man.

Inside the dimly lit hall, Miles slumps against the wall and closes his eyes, his head falling back, connecting with a thump to the stone behind him. Almost instantly he sees Charlie in his mind, standing tall in front of the mirror, and back then he had to fiddle with his hands to stop himself from reaching for her. This time, however, he doesn't fight the rush of desire, burning just beneath his skin, and his fingers twitch as he imagines running them over soft fabric and even softer skin.

He knows, he's walking a dangerous line with it but circumstances and Charlie herself make it in moments like this almost impossible to remember their relation. With a pained groan Miles opens his eyes and stares at the flickering shadows.

Charlie may be his blood but she's also in his blood.

Dressed in her own clothes again, Charlie sits cross-legged on the floor of the abandoned house they decided to settle in for the night. In the adjoining room, she can hear Aaron and Nora talking but their hushed conversation is nothing more than a trickle on the edge of her mind - her focus is on the man standing guard at the window across from her.

Leaning against the wooden frame, Miles is nothing more than a dark shape among shadows and the pale light of the moon shining through the broken shutters. He's been quiet since they met up with the others, hardly spoke a word, especially to her, and yet Charlie's caught him more than once watching her, the look in his eyes the same he'd given her when his reflection had joined hers in that mirror back at Drexel's place. There had been frustration and suppressed anger paired with something else, something dark and intense.

Miles shifts and her gaze is drawn to the hand he braces on the wall as he leans down to peer through one of the slits. When he had caught her wrist earlier, his fingers had been warm and strong, wrapping tightly around her wrist and jerking her out the nightmare she'd been stuck in, that shaky feeling inside her instinctively fading at his touch.

Her skin still remembers his, rough against soft, and Charlie shivers involuntarily at the memory. It's not the first time she's experienced this slow burn spreading through her body, it happens every time Miles invades her personal space and whenever his eyes linger on her a moment longer than necessary. She knows it's wrongwrongwrong, has even tried to tell herself it's unease and dread, but with every day it becomes more difficult to ignore and after what happened tonight, she won't be able to lie to herself any longer.

All of a sudden, his fingers curl into a fist against the bricks and the unexpected move pulls her out of her reverie. Startled, Charlie looks at his face, only to find him watching her again, and the second their eyes meet across the room, that dark intensity flares hot within his, an almost frightening need that matches her own, and a blush rises to her cheeks as heat starts to coil low in her belly.

They stare at each other silently, tension sizzling between them that sends her pulse racing, and it's enough to have her unconsciously licking her suddenly dry lips. Miles pushes off of the wall with a strangled sound and in the blink of an eye he's moved over to where she's sitting. He crouches down in front of her, close enough that his coat rustles against her knees, and another shiver runs through her.

"Dammit, Charlie," he swears hoarsely and her breath catches in her throat as he reaches up and gently strokes her bruised cheek with the tips of his fingers, the warmth of his skin seeping into hers. His touch sends a shock of electricity through her, edging all the way down her spine, her breath escaping in a rush and her hand comes up, pressing against his chest.

"Miles..." The moment his name falls from her lips, Charlie feels him shudder under her palm and she twists her fingers into his shirt. Sliding his hand to the back of her head, Miles entwines his fingers tight in her hair and slowly draws her towards him as he leans in, his ragged breath fluttering over her face. For a heartbeat, they stay absolutely still, his mouth hovering over hers and her nails digging into his skin through thin fabric.

Desire wars with guilt but she just can't stop and from the fire blazing in his eyes, neither can he. It steals the air from her lungs and Charlie exhales shakily, her lips brushing his, and then everything unravels from there.

His mouth comes down on hers, hard, desperate, swallowing her soft sigh as she opens up beneath his lips, her hand curving over his shoulder, holding him to her. With a low groan, Miles deepens the kiss, his other hand gripping her hip, starting to pull her up, and she arches into him and closes her eyes as he—

In the other room, the floorboards creak under someone's weight, the sound echoing in the silence like a shot, and they tear out of the kiss.

Charlie stares at him, her heart beating wildly, the maelstrom of emotions she's drowning in mirrored in his eyes, and she can hear him panting harshly over the roaring in her ears, his fingers clutching at her.

What have they done?

Another creak, louder and closer this time, and Miles' hands drop away from her as he shoots to his feet. Seconds later Aaron appears in the doorway, asking for help, and without a word, Miles turns and joins him, leaving Charlie to sink back against the wall. She watches Miles go and can't help but notice that his hands seem to shake slightly. He isn't as unaffected as he likes to pretend and the knowledge both frightens and thrills her.

Then he's gone and she brings her knees up and wraps her arms around her legs, trembling from head to toe, pressing her flushed face against her bent knees. The pounding in her veins makes it hard to think but one thought cuts crystal clear through her inner turmoil.

Whatever the hell just happened between them? It's not over.

It has only just begun.

- END -