For Romeokijai who asked for an AU where Bass is a 'moody musician'. Well dear, here's the start of it. Hope it works and Happy Birthday a little early.

Chapter 1 Hurt

The Blackout is a dingy Chicago bar on a dark Chicago street. If you followed that dark street, and took a few turns and a couple more and then took the El's red line, you might end up at Wrigley – or maybe not. The guys who sit their tired asses on the old red vinyl barstools at the Blackout don't usually have time for the ball park. The regulars who drink their swill at this particular dive bar are factory workers and veterans. They are cops and taxi drivers. They are the heart of Chicago's working class.

This afternoon, two of the bar's four owners are here. Miles Matheson is the only one of the four who does the bar thing full time. He stands behind the bar, cleaning up for the night ahead. He's wearing his usual uniform of faded tee shirt and jeans. On the other side of the bar sits Bass Monroe. He came straight from a workout and is wearing a bulky hoodie and running pants. He's staring moodily into his whiskey, not paying much attention to his surroundings.

"Going to need a lot of these tonight." Bass says without looking at Miles. "Can't believe it."

"Yeah, I know." Miles says.

The door opens and Jeremy Baker walks in followed by Will Strausser. These two are also owners, rounding out the foursome of old friends and business partners. They are as different as night and day. Baker is perfectly groomed, wearing one of his signature suits. This one is purple. The guys tease him about how out of place he always looks here, but he doesn't care. While Baker looks as if he's walked off a GQ fashion shoot, Strausser is unkempt and disheveled. His grey hair sticks out at odd angles and his flannel shirt isn't buttoned right. As they enter, they are laughing and joking with each other.

Without needing to be asked, Miles places their usual drinks on the bar. A draft beer for Strausser and a dirty martini for Jeremy. They settle into bar stools next to Bass and drink in silence for a few minutes. These four have been almost inseparable for thirty years. They are the kind of friends who can hold entire conversations without a word.

Sometimes though, words are needed.

Miles is wiping down the scratched surface of the bar, glancing up at his friends, "Listen guys, I'll be out of town for the next couple weeks. Nora will run things for the most part, but one of you should try to be here every night."

"Where are you going?" Jeremy asks, sipping his martini.

"Jasper." Miles says, staring at the rag in his hand.

"Why the fuck are you going back home?" Strausser asks. Will never has been one to mince words.

"Gotta be a funeral. Nobody goes home unless somebody died." Jeremy laughs, "Who died, Miles?"

"Emma." Miles pauses as his news sinks in for his friends. Emma was Miles's ex-wife. "Emma died. So you're right. I'm going back for a funeral."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry."

"You didn't know, Baker. Don't worry about it."

"What the hell happened?" Strausser demands. "Was she sick?"

"No." Miles says, frowning. "Not sick, just wrong place, wrong time. She was getting milk at the Circle A out on 231… you remember that place? Some asshole came in with a gun, high as a kite, wanting to rob the place. He shot the cashier and then Emma. The cashier is in critical condition."

"And Emma is in the fucking morgue." Bass says, staring into his whiskey. These are the first words he's spoken since they all settled in. Jeremy and Strausser look from Bass to Miles and back again. To say that Bass and Miles have had a complicated history with Emma would be the understatement of forever.

"You going back too?" Jeremy asks Bass.

Monroe smirks, "Not welcome. You know that."

"What about your brother, Miles? He coming back for this?"

"Saint Benjamin?" Miles smirks, "Yeah right. You know Rachel hated Emma. Besides, they're still in Europe. Haven't visited in ten years. Didn't even come back for her Mom's funeral. They won't be back for this."

"Never did like that bitch Rachel." Strausser grumbles,

"Here, here. She was stone cold, but she did have a nice ass." Agrees Jeremy.

"Can we not talk about my sister-in-law's ass?" Miles asks.

"Fine. How's your kid?" Strausser asks.

Miles shrugs, "Don't know for sure. He's not saying much on the phone. He's pretty upset, obviously. I'm gonna help him with the funeral. I'll stick around for a bit to help him clear out her place and get the house on the market. All that shit. Connor hasn't lived with her in years, but she didn't have anyone else that can help."

"You said you'll be gone for a couple weeks?"

"Yeah, at least that." Miles says.

XXXXXXXXXX One Week Later XXXXXXXXXX

Charlie Matheson stands on the street in front of the Blackout. The sun has set and the neon beer signs glow through the dusty window. As she starts to walk toward the entrance, her taxi drives away, its headlights reflecting on the wet pavement. She's never been here before. When she'd landed at O'Hare today, it was the first time she'd been back in the States in years.

Her parents are still in Belgium, running the Think Tank they'd founded there. Danny is going to art school near them. They had all assumed Charlie would stick around as well, and she had planned to until everything fell apart. In the end it had been easy. When Charlie had decided to come back to the States, she'd taken the job that sounded the most challenging, and which also just happened to be near her Uncle.

Now she's here. Charlie feels awful for missing Aunt Emma's funeral the week before. She'd sent flowers and had talked to Connor a few times on the phone. Her cousin is struggling, but doing the best he can, considering all that has happened. He doesn't know she's back yet. She wants to wait till the dust settles before she says anything.

Charlie had already accepted the job here in Chicago before Emma's death, but she'd never told Miles. Her intent had always been to surprise him with her arrival. She smiles a little to herself as she walks into the dimly lit bar. She thinks he'll be very surprised indeed. Although they have kept in touch via texts and email and the occasional phone call, the last time they'd seen each other in person was when Charlie was fifteen. That was ten years ago.

She glances around, taking in the interior as her eyes adjust. She sees customers – a mix of men and women of varying ages – sitting at tables or on bar stools. A low-key game of darts is happening in the back near a small stage. Two men shoot pool in a far corner. An old AC/DC song plays on an ancient juke box.

Charlie claims a stool at the bar, feeling more than a little overdressed as she sits down. She scans the area behind the bar, but does not see Miles. A pretty brunette comes up, a bar rag tossed over one shoulder. She eyes Charlie up and down, "You sure you're in the right place?"

"Yeah." Charlie says with a frown, "Why?"

"You don't look like the customers we usually get. Not sure we have whatever it is you want to order."

"Oh, why's that?"

"The guys who run this place have outlawed juice. I can't make drinks that have little umbrellas in them."

Charlie tries to hide her smile, but isn't able to do it, "I think I'll be okay."

The bartender shrugs, "Okay, so what do you want?"

"A shot of Jose Cuervo and a whiskey, neat."

The brunette smiles in surprise, before warning her new customer, "We don't have limes either. Miles says they're no better than juice."

"Good thing I didn't order a lime then, isn't it?" Charlie asks with a smirk. Soon the two women are smiling at each other, sensing that they may get along just fine.

Charlie downs the shot and takes a deep drink from her glass. The bartender is impressed. "Wow, maybe you are in the right place. You know how to drink." The bartender holds out a hand and Charlie shakes it. "I'm Nora, by the way."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Nora. Please call me Lee," Charlie says with a smile, deciding on a whim to use her little brother's pet name instead of Charlie, which is the name Miles would know her by. She's curious about Miles's life here, and thinks she might get some information out of Nora if she keeps her true identity secret for now. "So you said the guys that run this place have a problem with fruit?"

"Well, it's more that they have a problem with anyone who needs to dilute their alcohol. They're former marines and they are all hard drinkers. Good guys mostly."

Charlie takes another drink from her glass, "Tell me more."

"Miles isn't here. Usually he's working the bar with me." She scans the crowd, "See those two guys over there?"

"The odd couple?" Charlie asks with a snicker.

"Yeah, the blond one is Jeremy. The other one is Will. They are two of the four owners. You'll see Bass later if you stick around."

"They all work here?" At the mention of Bass's name, Charlie feels a rush of heat. She didn't know Bass would be here, although she supposes she shouldn't be surprised. She hasn't seen him in years, but remembers the childish crush she'd had on him as a teenager when the guys had all still lived back in Jasper and Charlie had visited with her folks every summer.

"They all help out when they can, working a shift here or there – but generally they let Miles run the show while they hold down other jobs." Nora says.

"What do those two do?" Charlie asks, nodding toward the two in the corner.

"Jeremy is a stock broker. When they were in the Marines, he was a bookie. He says his current job is pretty similar. Lucky for him and his clients, he's really good at it. Strausser is a guard at the prison."

"And the other one…Bass?" Charlie feigns boredom, but truthfully she can't wait for the answer.

"Bass owns a gym just a few blocks away from here, where he trains MMA fighters."

"They are a pretty diverse bunch, aren't they? How did they meet?"

"These guys have known each other since high school back in Indiana. They all joined the marines together, fought together, and played together."

"Played together?" Charlie asks.

"Yeah, they had a band – well, have a band. They still sing or perform quite a bit, but only here at the bar. They're the reason we have open mic every night from 10 to midnight."

Charlie glances at her watch. "It's almost ten now." She says.

"Yep, you're in for a treat." Nora says, and then she nods to the low stage near the dart board. "Speak of the devil… that's Bass."

Charlie is sure she would know him anywhere. He looks a little scruffier, a little older than she remembers, but he's still sexy as hell. He's sitting on a bar stool, a microphone loosely held in one hand. He's wearing an old tee shirt and jeans. He's looking at the floor. Soft music begins to swell slowly, and the rest of the stage lights come on. Jeremy is playing an old upright piano. Strausser is backing him up behind a drum set. Charlie knows the song before Bass even begins to sing. She feels a chill. She loves this song.

I hurt myself today ** To see if I still feel ** I focus on the pain ** The only thing that's real

The needle tears a hole ** The old familiar sting ** Try to kill it away ** But I remember everything

What have I become ** My sweetest friend ** Everyone I know ** Goes away in the end

"You like this song?" Nora asks, noting Charlie's interest.

Charlie's gaze is glued to Bass as he sings. She does like this song, and she loves the way he's singing it. His voice is low and rough and there is raw pain there. Her heart aches for him, other parts of her ache for him as well. "I like him." She says, tilting her head to one side.

And you could have it all ** My empire of dirt ** I will let you down ** I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns ** Upon my liars chair ** Full of broken thoughts ** I cannot repair

Beneath the stains of time ** The feelings disappear ** You are someone else ** I am still right here

"I wouldn't waste your time. Girls are always throwing themselves at him. He's never interested."

"Gay?"

"Not hardly." Nora snorts. Just bored with it all I guess. Bored, sad and tired. Besides, you look like a nice girl. He's not the right guy for a nice girl."

What have I become ** My sweetest friend ** Everyone I know ** Goes away in the end

And you could have it all ** My empire of dirt ** I will let you down ** I will make you hurt

"Maybe I'm not as nice as you think I am." Charlie suggests, her eyes still glued to Bass.

"Maybe..." Nora sound doubtful.

"Does he sing every night?"

Nora shrugs, "Most nights yeah. Some combination of the four manages to get up there every night. Bass usually sings, but Jeremy and Miles sing from time to time as well. Miles plays guitar when he's here."

"Does Bass always sing such sad songs?" Charlie asks.

"Bass doesn't express his emotions very well. He deals with the shit in his head by singing. And yeah, a lot of times his songs are sad. He's not a happy guy, Lee. Lots of demons there."

And you could have it all ** My empire of dirt ** I will let you down ** I will make you hurt

If I could start again ** A million miles away ** I will keep myself ** I would find a way

Bass's song ends. There is a smattering of applause from the drinkers. Charlie watches as he hands the mic to a big guy who looks a lot like Kenny Rogers before making his way to the bar. Somewhere along the way a petite red-head attaches herself to his arm. They get to the bar and Bass turns to the red-head with cold eyes, "You can go now."

Charlie chuckles as the girl flounces off in a pout.

"Something funny?" He asks, his eyes now on Charlie. He looks like he wants to pick a fight. Charlie's pulse throbs.

"Nope." She says with a small smile, before finishing her drink. Nora replaces it without being asked and then turns to Bass.

"Sounded good tonight."

He shrugs, "Hear anything from Miles yet? How's Connor?"

Nora shakes her head, "Nothing new."

Charlie leans closer to Bass and puts a hand on his arm, trying to get his attention.

He looks down at her hand and then back up. He's clearly annoyed. "What?"

"You seem…familiar." Charlie stares into his eyes, wondering if he'll remember her at all. She wonders if he ever thinks about the skinny teenager who once sat on his lap and kissed him at a pool party a decade ago.

He cocks his head to one side. "Don't think I've fucked you. Would probably remember that."

She laughs, "Yes. Yes you definitely would."

He smirks a little then, looking her up and down. He likes that she's not bothered by his crudeness. Ballsy women always have been a turn on.

Nora rolls her eyes. "She's a nice girl, so be nice to her. Name is Lee. She's new in town."

"Nice girl, huh?" He makes it sound suggestive. "We don't get a lot of those around here."

"Like I told Nora…I'm not nearly as nice as she seems to think I am."

Bass looks at her for a moment and Charlie swears she sees a spark of interest, but he shakes his head before downing the drink Nora had sat in front of him. "Whatever. Nice or not….can't imagine you'd be anything but trouble, and I've had enough of that to last several lifetimes."

"I liked hearing you sing. You have a great voice." She's not ready to let him go just yet.

Bass either doesn't understand or doesn't care. He pushes away from the bar and stops close – too close. She can feel his breath, hot on her cheek. "Good night Lee. Welcome to Chicago." He waves at Nora and leaves, not bothering to further acknowledge Charlie.

Nora stares after him, "I told you he wasn't a nice guy."

Nora is distracted as the bar gets busier and Charlie begins to lose interest in being here. She tells her new friend goodbye. "I'll probably be back tomorrow night." She says. Nora nods and turns back to a customer. Charlie tosses some bills on the bar and leaves.

The night air feels cool and refreshing against Charlie's hot skin as she leaves the bar and walks into the Chicago night. She pauses when she sees her taxi hasn't arrived yet, deeply breathing in the crisp night air. Charlie has drank a lot tonight, but she's alert enough that she feels the presence behind her.

She turns slowly and at first she only sees a figure hidden in the shadow. The dull glow of a cigarette burns hotly as he inhales, fading again as smoke oozes from the darkness. "Nice girls aren't always smart girls, it would seem." Bass Monroe says quietly, his voice sexy and low.

She steps closer. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"This isn't a good part of town. This isn't a place where a beautiful girl should be walking alone at night."

Charlie is close enough now to distinguish his features in the dark. He looks sad. Haunted. Dangerously sexy. "You think I'm beautiful?" she asks, her own voice barely a whisper.

"I'm old, not stupid or blind." He says, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"May I?" she asks, holding out her hand. He presses the smoke into her fingers and she raises it to her lips, placing them over the same place he'd just had his. As the sting of tobacco sinks into her lungs, she doesn't take her eyes from his. Exhaling slowly, she hands the cigarette back to him.

"I don't think you are old or stupid." She says, "And I'm not nice or helpless."

"Oh?" he drops what's left of the cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with his boot before moving quickly. One moment she is standing a couple feet away from him. The next, he has her pressed against the brick wall of the bar with her arms locked at her sides. "You may think you aren't helpless, but you are." He leans in then, completely pinning her to the wall, pressing his face against her throat. One hand slowly moves up her side, caressing the curve of her breast. He trails kisses from her neck to her mouth. She's breathing heavily, her body humming with desire. Just as she thinks he's going to really kiss her, he retreats - pushing away as fast as he'd moved in. "Next time, have a cab waiting when you come out. Also, buy some mace. Maybe take some self defense classes."

Charlie gapes at him, "What the hell is your problem?"

"Like Nora said, I'm not a nice guy. The thing is, there are guys even less nice than me. You should be more careful." He nods to the street, "Your chariot awaits…."

Charlie looks at the street to see a cab now parked on the curb. She turns in time to see he's gone back inside. The bar door swings shut behind him and she looks back to the street and her ride. Charlie doesn't understand Bass Monroe, but if he was trying to scare her off, he has failed.

He has failed in a big way.

She'll be back. She'll show him she's not nearly as weak as he seems to think she is. She'll be back because she wants to feel his body against hers again. She'll be back because she simply can't imagine staying away. Not from him.

A/N Song lyrics are from "Hurt" which was written and performed by Nine Inch Nails/Trent Reznor. Another wonderful version also available from the late Johnny Cash. For the record I have no idea if Dave Lyons can sing, but for the sake of this story, Bass CAN.

I'm not sure how long this fic will be or when I'll update again…probably in a week or so.