A/N:

Hi,

Been milling around here for a while now, and I'm finally posting something!
I'm still pretty new to this (despite the numerous unfinished stories in My Documents) but I guess this is what you folks would call a one-shot, short and simple, something I really should have had a crack at when I first started writing.

It might progress into something more, depending on how much caffeine I consume whilst at the computer...

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

PIP

"Don't worry; we'll get the Republic back. Just gonna take a bit of time."

Charlie couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. The Monroes… Talking about the Monroe Republic… Talking about how to bring it back!

She'd been watching father and son since they all got back, watched them stalk off together every night, and uselessly tried to listen in on their hushed conversations, suspicion needed investigation and now it had finally proved fruitful.

However, Charlie felt no feelings of accomplishment or triumph in what she had uncovered, instead, it felt like there was a hole in her chest and it was rapidly filling up with anger and a sense of loss, she had been a fool, they all had, in thinking Monroe had changed. She had had the most faith in him, more than Miles, in fact. And here he was, betraying everything they had built up.

Her eyes lingered on Connor as he walked back to the little barn they had all been calling home since the crispy Patriots fiasco. She couldn't warm to him, sure, he was good in a fight and was easy on the eyes, but for reasons so far unknown to her, she didn't like him, hadn't from the moment they met. He was trouble, one Monroe was bad enough!

As soon as he disappeared through the hatch doors, she wasted no time in stepping out of the shadows, making herself known to Bass. In the dim light of the moon, he looked genuinely shocked to see her, even jumpy, he knew he'd been caught out. Good, it meant he knew what he was doing was at least a little bit wrong.

"Charlie…" His voice was a strained whimper as she stalked towards him, picking up the pace and almost breaking into a full-force run.

She shoved him backwards, hard; he struggled to hold his balance. She came at him again and again, with more force each time, throwing some punches and slaps in there for good measure.

"You… Son of a… Bitch!" She growled out between attacks, voice increasing in volume as she allowed her rage to consume her. Bass made a half-hearted grab for her wrists, but she wriggled free, shoving him away one last time, "I believed in you, I almost trusted you!"

"It's not what you think." He hoped she would hear him out, she had in the past.

Tears stung her eyes as she tried to catch her breath; she blinked them back, replacing sadness with determined hatred. She turned and started to walk away, Miles needed to know what his 'brother' was up to, his hand gripped her arm tightly and swung her back around quickly, providing enough force to land a swift punch to Monroe's cheek.

He finally lost his footing, stumbling to the ground. When he looked back up at her, she had pulled a knife out from God-knows-where, "You taught me how to be a better killer, Bass, don't think for a second I won't use your own tricks against you."

Bass shuffled up onto his elbows, stretching his palms out to her in surrender, "You gotta listen to me, Charlie," he pushed himself to his feet, straightening up closer to her than intended, her eyes were glossed over with unshed tears but no less furious, "The kid wants power, riches, a decent life, he doesn't wanna be poor and starving again."

Charlie raised an eyebrow at 'again' but otherwise remained completely unchanged by his words, her knife hand twitched, "So let him have power, let him find his own way, don't get involved."

"You think I'd let my son turn into what I did? No way, he needs his family around him, people he can look to for help when things get tough. People to rein him in, set him on the straight. It won't be like it was before." She stared into his eyes, the bright blues being heightened by the moon's light; he seemed to truly believe in what he was spouting to her.

But she wasn't so easily convinced, "How can you be so sure?"

Bass looked away for a moment; scratching the back of his neck as he calculated his words, "Because he'll have you…," her heart skipped as he brought his gaze back up to her face, "He'll have you and Miles. You fixed me, you can fix him too."

The words were analysed and re-analysed repeatedly in her head, had he just offered to give her the Republic? She was confident he would get it back if he really wanted, but did he want her to be a part of it? The idea was both disgusting and a little tempting, all that power… She could see the appeal. However, she also saw what that power did to people.

Charlie eyed him up and down, he looked so much better, so much happier and healthier since going to Mexico, he'd come so far from a place everyone thought he'd left behind, so far from the General, would he really want to go back there? Back to what he was?

"And what about you?" She was sceptical but the look he was giving her weakened her stubbornness, he looked like a damn lost puppy, it made her insides twist with something unusually warm and unsettling.

The question took him off guard; he was expecting the typical smarmy, sarcastic snipes that all Mathesons turned to when they were pissed off, "What about me?"

"Where will you be in this master plan?"

He dared to move a piece of stray hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear with a small smile and letting his fingers briefly slide over her neck, she didn't flinch or back away, she wasn't afraid of him and hadn't been for a very long time and more importantly, she understood the gesture to be one of comfort, Miles did the same thing on many occasions.

Still, when Miles did it, it was different, Bass's touch made her skin goose bump and tingle.

He quickly tugged his hand away, realising how long he had lingered over her soft, tanned skin, it took him a moment to remember her question, or why they were even talking in the first place. He shrugged, "Haven't thought about that yet."

It was an honest answer, he was sure the Republic would be in good hands, taking the responsibility on again himself was still too raw an idea. He followed her gaze to his burnt Monroe tattoo, before seeking out her own brand. He lifted her wrist up, letting his thumb slide over the rough patch of skin that bore his mark.

He regretted with every fibre of his being that she had been put through that, there were no excuses or reasons to explain the whole branding thing that sounded right or fair, it was wrong. A monstrous act, plain and simple.

"There'll be no more Militia, that's for sure."

She sighed as he released her, "Then who will protect the people?"

Bass chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with glee, "See, you're already thinking like a leader!" Charlie loved seeing people smile, when it was genuine at least, but especially him. He didn't do it enough, though; none of them really had much to smile about anymore. It was very hard to stay mad at him when he was giving her that perfect grin.

They began walking back to the barn together, the grass crunching beneath their feet. She shook her head, staring up at the moon, her voice sounding almost dreamlike, "I don't want to be a leader, Bass."

"Alright, but if and when the Republic is rebuilt, will you at least let me set you up somewhere nice, hmm? Nice, big house in a decent area, give you some semblance of a normal life."

Charlie struggled to keep from giggling or rolling her eyes, she took these sort of things with a pinch of salt, finding it highly unlikely that she would ever get a chance to settle down and be 'normal', she didn't even miss having a home anymore, but she played along anyway, "Sure, if I don't get killed first."

She was spun around so fast and violently that she lost her breath for a moment, Bass's eyes were filled with anger but it wasn't directed at her, although one might think otherwise with his nails digging into the toned flesh of her arm.

His jaw clenched, "I thought I'd made it clear that no one is gonna be laying a finger on you." Except himself, obviously.

Charlie shivered from his rough grasp; the sudden seriousness took her by surprise but she felt warm inside once more, reminding her of how glad she was of his protectiveness, "Because you'll save me, because you always come back," he paused, scanning her face before nodding stiffly, "You can't protect me forever."

"I can try, Charlotte." He hadn't used her full name in so long, it had annoyed her at first but now she realised just how much she missed it. She shrugged out of his now loose grip and closed the distance between them, leaving scant inches between their faces.

Bass swallowed hard, unsure if she was about to kill him or kiss him, she was so close that he could feel her breath against his lips. His pants suddenly felt a little tighter and he struggled to maintain the façade of being unaffected by their close proximity.

He took a precious moment to memorize her face, cheeks pink from the Texan sun, flawlessly tanned skin, and those eyes, crystal blue and staring right into his own. She looked a little paler in the moonlight but no less mesmerizing. They were rare in their ability to read the other's mind with just a look, but her eyes were giving nothing away right now, she was a mystery.

He was sure his own eyes were pleading, begging her to say or do something, anything! There was no doubt he was an open book to her right now, giving her all the answers to whatever questions were running through her mind.

It was becoming tense, he blinked, cracking a little under the pressure, she responded with a smirk and backed away slowly, only taking her eyes off him once she'd reached the barn doors, stopping before going inside, "If I sense for one single second that you're turning into General Monroe again, I'll slit your throat, sound fair?"

A little part of Bass felt broken, she didn't trust him anymore. They had been partners for convenience over the past couple of months, only seeing each other as a spare pair of hands in a fight, but they'd grown close-ish in recent weeks, working together because they wanted to, not because they had to.

It hurt to know that that was probably all over now.

He nodded his agreement to her threat, "Goodnight, Sebastian." She said, before slipping out of sight.

Bass let out the breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding in and aggressively ran his hands through his hair, feeling more than a little hacked off at what had just gone down, if it was Miles or Rachel, he could handle it, they never had much confidence in him anyway, always expecting him to turn in the blink of an eye.

But never Charlie, well, maybe at the beginning, but she had been the first to extend an olive branch and see him as something other than a monster.

He turned and smashed his foot into a metal bucket, noisily kicking it a fair way across the field. He mumbled several curse words as he crept inside and found himself a place to sleep, he'd fix this, he would make her believe in him again and get his Republic back, no matter what.