A/N: First fanfic I've posted in a decade! I wrote this ages ago, forgot about it, and recently rediscovered it. I thought I'd better polish it up and get it posted before Season 2 started tonight. I'm a bit nervous since I haven't posted any of my writing in forever and I'm new to this fandom, so fingers crossed. I'm totally in love with the idea of Charlie/Bass...so much potential! Reviews are wonderful!

You Look Beautiful with a Gun in Your Face

Charlotte Matheson interested Bass long before he ever laid eyes on her. Well, as an adult anyways. He'd met her as a child and thought she was adorable, all smiles and exuberance, reminding him of his sisters when they had been that age. She used to climb all over Miles and him like a little monkey, asking them an endless stream of questions, and sharing knock-knock jokes with them. Spending time with her had been a joy-connecting to her happiness and innocence long before any of them were damaged and broken. It was strange sometimes how innocent the world was before the blackout (not that anyone would have ever typified the first decade of the 21st century as innocent until living through what came after), when desperation had illuminated everyone's strength and weakness for survival and what they would do to achieve it. The Matheson family had been a second home for him and Charlotte had been an essential part of it.

That all changed when his family was killed. After that, being around her was agony; her smiles a knife in his heart when he saw her. He'd had to tell Miles he couldn't visit Ben and Rachel after that. Bass had never explained why, but Miles had known, like he always did. They were brothers and no one knew Bass to his core the way Miles had, and likely no one else ever would again. The pain that accompanied the betrayal and loss were not fair compensation for intimate knowledge of a person.

Speaking to Rachel about her reunion with her children in a droll voice announced his presence to the trio of prisoners, although he technically preferred the term guests. After all, what was life without its niceties?

He could admit he'd wondered about Charlotte over the years in an abstract sort of way, wondered where Ben and the two kids had ended up, if they were still alive. As he crossed the room he contemplated the older of Rachel's two children. Looking at her now, it was hard to connect that innocent, happy child with the stoic young woman spewing venom from her lovely blue eyes and disdain from every inch of her frame.

Bass introduced himself and her reaction to his name was amusing, not a wisp of fear, and her gaze swept straight over him as if he was nothing more than an insignificant piece of trash in the street. No one dared look at him that way, and Bass found himself struggling to keep his lips from quirking at the corners at her gall-all Matheson.

His eyes swept over her face cataloging her features; Charlotte was gorgeous. He'd heard from Tom that his son had gotten himself hooked on her. Drinking in the officer's club, he'd seen the type of girls Lieutenant Neville usually spent time with. Bass had known she would be pretty, it was a given.

But Charlotte was more than just a pretty face, Bass could see that and he doubted the younger Neville's ability to do the same.

As he turned to Rachel, he kept his thoughts on her daughter.

Reports had filtered in about Miles traveling with a beautiful, blue-eyed woman and he'd wondered about her identity. At first Bass had thought her to be physically involved with Miles. He was a bit surprised when it was revealed how young she was, as that had never been Miles's preference (more his, if he was being really truthful), until it had been confirmed by militia spies she was Miles's niece. One mystery solved, this knowledge was itself perplexing, as he wondered how she'd been able to find her uncle so readily. Bass and Miles had tried to locate them for years without any luck, but he supposed Miles may have somehow found Ben after leaving the militia, letting him know circumstances had changed and where he was headed. Bass wondered how she'd managed to convince Miles to join her search for her brother after living for years drunk in some obscure, hole-in-the-wall bar in Chicago.

Bass turned back to Charlotte and Danny, holding up the pendant for both Matheson kids to see, explaining what its purpose was and what he planned to do with it. Charlotte was in a word...unimpressed. It was only when he told them Rachel was working on the project that the girl perked up, turning uncertainly towards her mother; her shifting nudged back her sleeve enough for Bass to see the edges of the Monroe brand on her wrist.

When he saw the raised flesh, he had to restrain himself from reaching for her arm and caressing the scar. He felt a pull in his gut knowing a member of Miles's family was marked by him. It called to the base part of his character, the darkness he'd kept hidden for years, which had only seeped into the forefront of his thoughts when Miles betrayed him. Bass would have loved to learn how Charlotte got that brand.

Bringing his attention back to the matter at hand, he couldn't resist the small smile as he listened to Charlotte demand her mother ignore Bass's own orders to finish building the amplifier as it would lead to more death at the hands of the militia.

Deaths were obviously going to occur, Bass thought wanting to roll his eyes. Talk about stating the obvious. Still, speaking about how terrible the militia was in front of their commanding general required a certain amount of gumption he could admire. On the inside at least.

As he watched her now, Bass wondered if his sisters would have turned out like Charlotte: fierce, loyal, brave. The stray thought caused a surge of pain and remorse in his chest as it always did when thinking of his little sisters. He pushed it down and focused on the situation at hand. Strausser would need to be monitored to ensure he didn't go too far. Bass was well aware of the fact the man was a maniac, but he was good at his job, so as with most things in the post-blackout world, one accepted the bad with the good. After all with much of the populace dead and true believers in short supply, a trustworthy, solid workforce was hard to find. One had to make compromises, and really, there were always two sides to every coin. So the man was completely unstable, made a hobby out of studying archaic methods of torture, enjoyed butchering animals (and the occasional person), and liked talking about it after the fact-yeah, that wasn't too good. On the other hand, he had excellent table manners, cut a mean slab of meat, created a great recipe for barbecue sauce, and had won Best Grillmaster in Philadelphia five years running. See? Not all bad, just depended on the creative angles one thought of and Bass's worldview had gotten very flexible.

When Strausser cocked his gun and threatened Rachel with shooting one of her children, he saw fear flash through Charlotte's eyes. Finally an emotion he could anticipate, Bass felt more in control of the situation. There was a loaded gun pointed at her and her brother, she should be afraid. Although he did find himself a bit disappointed that Charlotte gave into such a simple impulse, even under the current circumstances. She had been so impressive thus far, such a break from the boring prisoners, uh, guests, he usually dealt with.

However, Charlotte jumping up eagerly in front of her brother willing to die instead of him, downright volunteering for it, made Bass rethink that line of thought. She had been afraid, but it was completely for her brother and not at all for herself.

Bass couldn't look away from the sight of Charlotte fiercely protecting her brother while Strausser held a gun inches from her face. He examined her with new eyes. This was love, this was loyalty-this was an animalistic imperative to protect the person in the world most essential to maintaining one's own equilibrium and sanity.

It was everything he had ever felt for Miles, everything he had believed Miles felt for him-everything he had lost when Miles betrayed and left him. And in that moment Bass completely understood Charlotte Matheson.

He was also well on his way to being completely aroused by the girl.

She was stoic in the face of the loaded gun, focusing on the barrel, sheer gutsiness lacing her eyes steely blue, while Rachel moaned ineffectually somewhere in the background. Bass couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him long enough to tune into her whinging, all his attention was centered on the unflinching Charlotte. A bolt of lust shot through his gut; he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this intrigued by a woman. Her fearlessness and determination made him wish they'd met under different circumstances where those qualities would have been quite interesting to test in a hundred different pleasurable scenarios.

When Rachel finally capitulated, he had to keep himself from laughing when he saw Charlotte roll her eyes at her mother for giving in. The audacity of this girl...she was put out that her mother didn't let her get a bullet in between the eyes. Not that Bass was sure he would have let Strausser pull the trigger. Knowing that Miles had forged a relationship with the girl made the idea of killing her unpalatable for a variety of reasons he didn't want to examine too closely.

He lazily pulled his eyes from Charlotte to glance at her uninspiring mother. There really was no comparison between the two and if Bass was being generous he could admit that was partly his fault. Being locked up and isolated for years really didn't do much for one's looks or health, mental and otherwise. Besides Rachel had always viewed the world with an icy hauteur, a cold disregard; Charlotte never would have been able reproduce her mother's aloof persona. There was an honesty to her emotions Bass appreciated, something a small part of his psyche envied.

Through all of this, he's aware of keeping up his end of the conversation, but Bass isn't particularly invested in it. He's far more absorbed with studying Charlotte and her reactions to the evolving situation.

His eyes returned to the beguiling young woman in front of him and Bass accepted what he was feeling for Charlotte; there was nothing for it, he desired her...absolutely. His mind filled with the images of what he would do to her body. Bass wanted to watch her writhe across his sheets while he held her beneath him, run his tongue between her breasts and along her clavicles learning the taste of her, feel her long legs wrap tightly around his hips as he kept her on the cusp of orgasm, hear her gasp his name when she came around his cock, before finally leaving her exhausted and covered in bruises, semen, and his scent. Bass had to draw a deep breath to control the urge to have her separated from her brother and brought to him.

She had beauty, bravery, and loyalty. Charlotte exuded an aura of innocence and protective love-all of which was a potent combination for a man without family, darkened by death, power, and abandonment, one that had to be as emotionally detached as possible in his daily affairs at the helm of an ambitious military-machine primed to sweep across the continent. Recognizing these sentiments in the girl left him slightly discomfited, unused to them as he is since he's allowed apathy to rule his life, embracing detachment as a means of covering the emotional potholes Miles left in his wake. It also tweaked his jealousy, as Bass had been bereft of such feelings for too long and had accepted years ago the unlikelihood of him kindling such emotions in another person ever again. Bearing witness to them made him yearn for things he couldn't have.

Tearing his thoughts away from the maudlin turn they'd taken, Bass pondered Miles's relationship with the girl. Charlotte had gotten tangled up with his brother and that made her even more appealing for a plethora of reasons, most of them admittedly quite twisted. Bass wasn't sure he could kill Miles. And if he couldn't kill the man or convince him to return to the militia, his options for dealing with him became somewhat limited. Revenge would be an excellent substitute and fucking over Miles's niece, both literally and figuratively, would do the job quite nicely. It also held the promise of being an entirely pleasurable endeavor.

Needing to leave the room before he embarrassed himself, Bass instructed Strausser on watching Rachel's every move, and ran one last look along Charlotte's features before turning towards the steps.

He wondered what it would take to destroy that disdain, how he would go about gaining a smile from those lips, or earning her loyalty. As he made his way out of the room, leaving most of the Matheson family behind him, Bass hoped he could meet Charlotte again under different circumstances. It would be difficult to turn her dislike of him into something else, but he could be patient when a situation called for it and Bass had always appreciated a challenge.

She had interested him before he'd ever seen the woman she'd become, but Bass left the room completely fascinated with Charlotte Matheson. And fiercely determined they would meet again.