A/N - So, I was supposed to have spent the last week taking a break from writing anything other than reviews and catching up with everyone's stories. And instead I made the mistake of buying a new notebook while shopping, my muse had a creative spasm and instead of following my plans I ended up filling the whole thing with this plot bunny that won't go away. This is only the first part, but I think the story might actually work better left as it is with no follow on. You guys can decide for yourselves.

p.s, I'm aware this would probably never fit with the timelines of the show, but I don't care, deep in my little fangirl heart, this is how things should have gone in season 2 going into season 3 lol. Am DEFINITELY taking my break now so I shall see you guys in reviews section and will start posting again sometime next week x

Charlie and Monroe were sitting around the breakfast table at Miles' place when she finally told him that they needed to talk. It had become a weekly ritual for the three of them. Every Thursday, Rachel would leave the house early in the morning to work at the local hospital with her dad. So Monroe, Miles and Charlie took the opportunity to spend a little time together outside of work.

Ever since the end of the Patriot War, Miles and Monroe had become the unofficial leaders of Willoughby, the town that now saw them as heroes. Both had insisted that Charlie come work with them, despite Rachel's protests. Every day they ran the town - everything from supplies to security was their responsibility. The two men were finally behaving like the brothers they had always been and it warmed Charlie's heart to see. No one except her had seen just how much Monroe meant to her Uncle; how tortured he had been at the idea of having to ultimately kill him on their quest to Philly. Now, he had his brother back and she was happy for him.

Yet she also had news that may just be the cause of that brotherhood becoming fractured once more. But time was running out for her... the secret she had kept for the past few months was about to be revealed whether she wanted it to or not. And this news was definitely better coming from her.

Steeling herself the moment Miles left the room, she caught Monroe's eye across the table. When he smirked at her she nearly lost her nerve. Her Uncle could come back at any second though, so she ignored the fluttering in her stomach and blurted out, "Can you come by my place, after work? Just you?"

A raised eyebrow and look of interest from him was enough to turn her legs to jelly. She was grateful there was already a seat under her ass. "You need a shelf putting up Charlotte?" She wanted to kick him for the amusement, and the suggestion, in his voice. Thankfully, the uncomfortable look she shot at him wiped the smirk right off his face.

"What's wrong Charlie?"

By now she could hear Miles stomping downstairs. "I have to- there's something you need to know."

"Something you don't want Miles to know?"

Why? Why couldn't he just say okay and shut the hell up?! The desperation to end this conversation must have shown on her face, because just as Miles was walking back into the room, he gave her a small nod and dropped the subject. Charlie almost sagged against the chair in relief.

"You guys ready?" Miles, who had failed to notice the atmosphere between the pair, looked Charlie up and down as she got to her feet. "Is that my sweater?" her hands automatically pulled at the offending garment, one she had taken to wearing all the time lately.

"No it's mine." Monroe answered for her. "She grabbed it from my office the day we had the snow."

"I was cold." Charlie sniffed. "And it's comfortable... Besides, it looks better on me anyway."

"That's true..." She could feel his eyes on her as she led them out the door.

"Hey man! That's my niece!"

"Then you should be happy that she'd cold enough for bigger clothing brother, keeps her covered up." It seemed Miles couldn't find an argument for that cause the men trailing behind her went quiet, to her intense relief. After that, the conversation returned to normal, everyday stuff and she walked on feeling a little better - totally missing the worried glances being tossed at her by Monroe.

After a long day throwing out orders and keeping what he hoped was a discreet eye on Charlie, Bass finally finished his work. Listing the supplies the town would need to see them through winter was tedious but necessary. To his dismay, he was told that Charlie had gone on before him, even though it was getting dark out and he was supposed to be going to her house anyway. Letting him see her home safely, just once, wouldn't have killed her. The girl was infuriating and confounding sometimes.

Since their weird conversation this morning, he'd been concerned about what she needed to tell him. What could be so bad that she didn't want anyone to know? Maybe Connor had been in touch or something, wanting to see him. Well, tough shit. He'd done his best for his son, but in the end had been betrayed anyway. It had been hard, but Bass was dealing with it and had let the kid go. Somehow though, he doubted that was the reason for his summons to Charlie's. Connor had made his feelings clear and the kid was surely smart enough not to risk coming back, not after what he did.

So what was Charlie's problem? Thinking back to this morning, he remembered how tense she had been, how she couldn't even look at him once Miles had pointed out what she was wearing. Bass had commented that her covering up could only be a good thing, mainly to distract the people with him from the fact that he'd just admitted he liked seeing her in his clothes. But his comment might have been closer to the truth than he had known. Maybe somebody was giving her a hard time and she was trying to dress less attractively to put them off. As if Charlie Matheson could ever look less attractive.

Bass, stood, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and swinging it around his shoulders. If someone was bothering Charlotte it made sense that she'd not want to make a big deal of it. In fact, she probably wouldn't mention it at all... not unless...

Already annoyed, he was now furious at the idea of some faceless bastard giving Charlie such a bad time that she would turn to him for help. That wasn't like her. It wasn't like her at all. She was tough and strong, fiercely independent to boot. Also, she was downright fucking adorable in his too-big-for-her sweater. As he walked the short distance to the little house she had chosen, Bass could feel his temper grow. If someone had scared her, or worse, actually hurt her, he was going to pull a General Monroe and annihilate the bastard and his whole family.

Charlie paced in her living room, wishing she had some whiskey. Every second waiting for the door to knock was pure torture. What was she going to say? More importantly, what was he going to say? If he reacted badly she didn't know what she would do. The worry of not knowing what the end result of tonight would be was making her feel sick. Monroe might hate her again... or worse, want nothing to do with her at all. Telling the truth had seemed like the right thing to do, the noble thing. But now that it was finally time to come clean about everything she was panicking.

The soft knock on the door, when it came, made her heart stop for a second.

'Oh God, oh no.' She wished the trip to the door wasn't so damn short.

The moment the door swung open though, Monroe was on her before she could speak, looking crazy angry. The door shut behind him as he stared at her. 'Geez...' Had he already guessed?

"Who is it?" Blue eyes searched hers.

"What?" Charlie blinked up at him, trying not to be mesmerized by his close proximity, as well as the feral look on his face. There was something seriously wrong with her that she found it so attractive.

When he touched her arm she let out a gasp - physical contact unexpectedly initiated by him always had the same effect on her. "Charlie..." his voice was surprisingly gentle and so not helping "has somebody been hurting you? Is that what's wrong?"

"What? No." She was trying to catch up and understand the question, but he was still touching her. "Why... would you say that?"

"You've been off lately, not yourself. And you walk around all covered up, even when it's pretty warm out." The fact that he noticed these things about her took her off guard, "Like you're trying to hide yourself or something. Tell me Charlie, if somebody has scared you or hurt you I'll fix it." He really meant it, she could tell. The murderous glint in his eye spoke of what he wanted to do to whoever she pointed out as the culprit. It made her want to laugh. Then cry. Would he still be so willing to protect her when he learned the truth?

"No, Bass, no one is hurting me, or giving me a hard time. I- Well. I..." Like ripping off a band aid, do it fast, that's what she had told herself all day long. "But you were right about me covering myself up. I needed to hide... It's- I'm-"

"What? You're what, Charlie?" Even as he asked, she saw in his eyes that he'd guessed in a heartbeat what she was about to say.

"I'm pregnant."

Monroe's grip on her arm slackened. "I. What?"

Charlie watched as it hit him. When he let her go and stepped back like she'd burned him, the dread in the pit of her stomach began to rise. The increasing horror on his face only intensified as she slowly lifted his sweater up to show him her swollen belly, the definite beginnings of a bump forming.

"Who?" He managed to choke out, his skin grey suddenly. Before she could answer, Monroe's face fell. "Connor..." The look, suddenly, was like she had punched him in the gut.

"No." She shook her head. "No." Pulling the sweater back down, her hands came to rest unconsciously on her stomach.

"That's why you're afraid to tell Miles..." Why you wanted me to come alone, isn't it? You and my kid, your dirty little secret..."

Monroe was looking at her like she made him feel sick. It made her want to punch him, scream at him. Then cry her heart out. "This isn't Connor's baby!" She snapped at him.

"How do you know that?" Monroe wiped a hand over his face and Charlie understood his confusion. The urge to laugh suddenly bubbled inside her and quickly, she shook her head again.

"This couldn't possibly be his baby. I. I never slept with Connor, Bass." He didn't believe her, she could tell. Sighing, feeling drained, she walked to the couch behind him and sat down, remembering that night in New Vegas as she tried to explain.

Charlie walked alongside the baby Monroe, feeling both stung and furious. The way he'd looked at that bitch warlord, defended her despite the fact that Charlie had been trying to defend him... Bastard, Talking to Connor wasn't doing much to make her feel better, but his puppy-like attention and obvious belief that he was much more charming than he actually managed to be, was making her laugh despite herself.

She wondered, briefly, what Monroe was doing with Duncan right now and immediately shut her eyes against the thought. The pig hadn't even looked at her as he'd dismissed them from his "chat" with the smirking bitch. If she could just show him how it felt... As puppy-boy beside her shot another look of desire sideways, Charlie suddenly laughed, an excellent idea forming.

Twenty minutes later, she was regretting the decision. Lying in a field with wet kisses being pressed on her neck, all she felt was sick. And cold. Why had taking their clothes off seemed like a nice touch? Connor seemed to notice her sudden reluctance as he pulled away. "What's up?"

Charlie shrugged, trying to swallow back how stupid she now felt. "Sorry, I just can't get into it. Maybe later." She pulled the blanket at their feet up over her and lay back with a sigh. As he joined her, his arm pressed against hers, she fought off the urge to yank herself away from him.

"Hey." He nudged her gently, "things won't get weird and awkward now will they?" Charlie sighed again, she could write the book on weird and awkward if she wanted. "Don't see why," she replied, "Life is short, more so for us. There's nothing wrong with taking what you can while you've got the chance. We'll all be dead inside a year anyway."

Monroe-junior turned his head towards her. "That's a little pessimistic don't you think?"

"I got news for you, pal, you just joined the losing side. We can't beat these guys."

"You know, you could try having a little hope." Geez, how did Monroe spawn this guy? "I'd rather be realistic." She answered him.

"You are kidding me... You have got to be kidding me!" The sudden, angry shouts of Monroe made her sit up so fast her head span. 'Crap'.

Back in her living room, Charlie watched as Monroe stared holes into her head. "What the hell do you mean you didn't go through with it?!"

She shrugged, leaning back against the couch and closing her eyes, "It was a dumb idea and I found that out very quickly, so I stopped it."

"Why the fuck did you let me think you'd done it?" His fury should have scared her. It just pissed her off.

"Are you joking?" Her eyes flashed open to glare right back at him. "You treated me like dirt for weeks. And that's only when you weren't completely ignoring my existence! After what happened with Connor you got even worse! Maybe if you'd asked me for an explanation instead of treating me like I was some whore - like I was beneath your notice, you would have gotten one!"

Monroe didn't appear to have anything to say to that. If she didn't know better she might have sworn she saw a flash of guilt and regret pass through his eyes. "Besides, not long after we got back I discovered that I had more to worry about than your severe mental problems and whiplash-inducing personality changes!"

The way his gaze dropped to her belly then, the impossible emotions on his face, they softened a little of her anger.

Neither of them said a word as he tentatively sat down beside her. "Charlie... is that? Are you saying..."

Monroe trailed off as she turned to look at him. Memories assaulted her, hot skin pressed against hers, teasing mouth torturing her as it left a trail of fire across her throat... Their eyes locked as that day, the one they'd both tried so hard to forget came floating back into their lives.

"Hey, kid, do me a favor will you? Give Bass a hand with his bandages?" Charlie sighed, "Hi Miles, good to see you too." Her Uncle rolled his eyes and pulled her into a quick hug. "Sorry, Charlie. Your mom wants me to go get supplies, Monroe's kid has gone walkabout and Bass is downstairs bitchin'..."

"Okay." she smiled, taking the bandages, clean rags and alcohol out of his hands, secretly thrilled at the idea of being alone with Monroe. "You get mom's supplies, I'll handle the patient."

"Thanks kid." Miles shot her one of his genuine smiles, the ones he seemed to reserve solely for her and took off again.

When she entered the cellar they'd been holed up in, the sight that greeted her stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Dammit, Miles, how slow are you?" Monroe bit out, clearly in pain. He was sitting on one of the camp beds, his back to her. Speaking of his back... It was covered in angry red welts and cuts. They were everywhere, some criss-crossing in places. Evidently, she had stood still for too long, cause he swung around with a groan and caught her eye. "Thought you were Miles." He mumbled. Monroe looked distinctly uncomfortable - embarrassment flashing on his face.

"He sent me. He had to go grab supplies." Charlie tried to speak normally. "Cheer up, I'm a much better nurse than he is. Terrible bedside manner." It was unlike her, all the babbling and his raised eyebrow told her he knew that.

Ignoring it, she walked around to take a closer look at his back. This time she couldn't hold back a gasp. "What happened?" She breathed out.

"Had a run in with a drug cartel in Mexico, not as bad as it looks." Monroe shrugged, then winced immediately.

Charlie's hands were shaking as she set the bandages down and dabbed some alcohol on a rag. "It's fine Charlie, just pour some on and throw the bandage on."

"Yeah and then you can die slowly of some rabid infection. You're as dumb as Miles." He made to say something, probably a sarky remark, so she headed him off before he got the chance. "Shut up Monroe." Maybe in the past, watching him suffer, then catch some deadly infection would have brought her some satisfaction. But not anymore. As she gently cleaned one cut after another, his stoic attempts to keep silent caused his whole body to go rigid.

There were tears in her eyes as by the time she had finished the last one. Her voice cracked a little when she asked him to lift his arms so she could wrap the bandages around him. Instead of giving her a cutting remark, he quietly complied. Slipping her hand around, she held the end of the material against his heart while her free hand started wrapping him up. She felt his heart jump every time her arm went all the way around him in some strange imitation of a hug. Monroe's jaw remained clenched tight the whole time.

When she had secured the bandages, her hands remained on him. Heart hammering in her chest, unsure what the hell she was doing, she leaned in and pressed a kiss on what had been one of the worst cuts. Monroe's sharp intake of breath should have broken her out of whatever trance she had fallen into, but it didn't. All it did was pull her in further.

His arms dropped slowly, and he grabbed her hand, bringing it up to lay a kiss of his own on the back of it. His head turned, looking towards her from the corner of his eye. He seemed to be deciding something.

Before she could question what was happening, he pulled on her hand, bringing her around to face him. She was in his lap in a matter of seconds. Suddenly face to face, Charlie felt her breathing stop when she saw his expression. He didn't look angry, or even turned on. He looked tired and sad, like he'd already given up. It was like the fire that lived inside the man had been extinguished.

So she kissed him.

Monroe was slow to respond, making her think she had made a terrible mistake. Until she pulled back. Then, his arms were like steel encasing her, holding her against him. Their lips moved together, new and exploding inside them all at once like they'd done it a hundred times and merely forgotten until they kissed again. Charlie had never had a kiss like it. When they paused for breath, the look in his eyes was pure need, hunger. There was a moments hesitation and then he uttered her name softly and all bets were off.

Charlie climbed off his lap and began pulling her clothes off. He watched her, eyes seeming to drink in every single inch of her as he slipped his jeans off. Then she was bare before him and he was reaching out a hand to her.

She took his hand and sank back onto his lap, her legs falling either side of him. His fingers tilted her chin up gently. "You're so beautiful Charlie."

The rare vulnerability she was seeing in him was like a drug. The man was raw and open before her. Against his sheer masculinity and the throbbing, rock hard erection pulsing against her soaking core, it made her lightheaded. Their lips crashed together again, more heated than before. She almost bit his tongue as searching fingers skimmed across her swollen heat, his sharp hiss as he felt how wet she was told her that Monroe was just as affected by her.

Then his hand was gone and he was pushing at her entrance, slipping just the tip of himself inside. She wriggled against his groin, trying to push him in deeper. It was like her entire body was alight with awareness and desire. Suddenly all those romantic erotic books that Maggie pretended she didn't read made sense to Charlie. The point of no return had long been passed and she doubted she would have stopped now even if her entire family burst into the room.

Then, he unexpectedly grabbed her ass, pulling her onto him. Pushing, stretching, engulfing himself in her quaking inner heat.

"Monroe..." Her head fell back, his lips latched onto her throat.

"Bass. My name is Bass."

Charlie's mouth found his ear as she rocked her hips against him, grinding onto him. "Bass." she moaned. The softly spoken word sent a fresh wave of intensity though the man holding her. He grasped her hips to help her move, thrusting hard up into her wet heat. She lost track of everything except the movements of their bodies as she rode him, clutching at his shoulders, faster and faster until she broke and waves of intense pleasure sparked through her whole body. "Charlie." he gritted out, reaching her through the fog of orgasmic bliss, "I'm close."

"Don't stop." She pleaded. "Bass." It was all the encouragement he needed, thrusting her through her orgasm then releasing his own deep inside her.

As they came down, soaked with sweat, they clung to each other for several minutes. Monroe slowly softened inside her as they got their breath back. They shared another deep kiss, then she buried her face in his neck. What they had just done probably should have felt shocking, wrong even, but it didn't. It had been inevitable. All she currently felt was a deep, satisfied contentment. If she could stay here with him, like this, all day, then she would. But Miles would be back soon, anyone at all could walk in here at any second. And so, reluctantly, they parted.

As she gathered her clothes and dressed, he pulled on his jeans, watching her with a small smile. When she was done he got up and pulled her to him. Her hands rested on his arms, coming face to face with a bite mark she must have left on his chest at some point.

"This... It doesn't have to mean anything." He told her.

"I don't think it can." Charlie replied, voice low, "Not right now."

Monroe pressed a kiss on her forehead before he released her. "Maybe one day." He said, his tone almost sarcastic, but buried under a sadness he just couldn't hide.

Charlie turned to leave, stopping halfway up the steps and looking over at him. His eyes hadn't left her. "One war at a time, Bass." She smiled, almost shyly, "We make it out of this, we can do anything we want, right?"

Monroe's eyes were shining suddenly as he grinned at her statement, transforming his features into a new level of handsome. "Anything at all, Charlotte."

She nodded, still smiling, "Then... One day."

"One day."

She turned and left the cellar then, missing the moment reality came back to him, when his hopeful smile faded and dark clouds crossed his face.

As the memory faded, Charlie turned to him, suddenly realizing something. "You knew then, that there was never going to be a 'one day'. That we weren't even going to be on the same side in the end!" The accusation in her eyes made Bass' temper rise again.

"No, no Charlotte. We can fight about that after we fight about the fact that you've been carrying my child and didn't tell me!"

He almost felt like an asshole at the look on her face. Almost. How could she do that to him? She knew he'd lost Connor, she knew about the baby that died... Did she hate him that much? Still?

"When was I supposed to tell you? You hated me, then I find out you're gonna run off with boy-wonder anyway and restart your stupid republic! Maybe I should have said something when you had your son shove a gun in my face, would that have ended well?" She was becoming more upset by the second and seeing it made him forget for a minute why he was mad at her.

"Charlie, I-"

"I was scared! Okay? I didn't know what to do. I wasn't expecting to- and then I find out this. I didn't even know how to feel, let alone what to do." As she broke off her own words, Bass found himself pulling her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. The idea of her dealing with this all alone made his heart hurt. Even when he was trying to bring her pleasure he still managed to hurt her, infect her life. Charlie's fingers gripped his jacket, holding on as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Bass held her as she cried, letting her get it all out, whispering apologies and promises that everything would be alright.

As he sat with her, it occurred to him that he was going to be a father again. It also hit home that Charlie had trusted him enough to tell him the child was his. The smile had barely had a chance to form on his face when haunting images of the blood-soaked birth and death of his other baby swam through his mind. Clutching Charlie tightly to his chest, Bass felt the panic hit. So bad he was afraid he might pass out for a second. The same thing couldn't happen with Charlie, it just couldn't.

"Monroe? Monroe you're hurting me." He looked down and realized he'd been literally crushing her to him.

"Shit! Charlie? Are you okay? I'm sorry. Is the- did I- is everything okay?" Charlie grabbed his hand, bringing his attention to her smiling face.

"Hey," she told him, "It's okay. I'm alright. She's alright as well, I promise."

"Uh, she?" Bass saw her look down, an embarrassed smile forming on her face.

"Yeah, um, you know when Priscilla had those things inside her?" He nodded slowly.

"She told me that that baby is a girl and that everything would be alright. I thought she was just being nutty until we found out about the Nano inside her. She doesn't even remember telling me anything, has no clue I'm even pregnant."

"A girl? We're having a girl?" The look of wonder on his face made Charlie smile again. Maybe this was going to be okay after all. He hadn't killed her yet and so far he seemed happy about the baby, even if he wasn't very happy with her. But she needed to be sure, after all these months of uncertainty and fear. "So, you're... I mean, you want to..." The words wouldn't come out properly.

"Do you want me to?" He very helpfully turned the question back on her.

Charlie was ready for the question though, the answer was, after all, all the reasons she had for finally deciding to risk telling him. "I want my daughter to have a father. I want her to know her dad. I'm not asking you for anything, if you don't want to be involved that's fine. I just wanted to give you the chance to be. If you don't want anyone to know or whatever... Then it's okay. I can leave in time for her coming, start over somewhere else."

"No." He grabbed her hand. "No Charlie. You're not going anywhere. And if you do I'll follow you. You don't have to do this on your own. I'm here. I'll be here, for everything, if you'll let me." The words were exactly what she had wanted to hear. But their entire situation was a lot more complicated than what they wanted. And since she was being honest tonight, she decided to confide her biggest concern.

"I don't want to cause more bad blood with Miles. Part of the reason I didn't tell you as soon as you came back to us at the church that night was because I don't want to be something else that comes between you." And she didn't. If she was what finally broke those two she would never forgive herself.

Monroe was quiet for what felt like a really long time. Heart sinking, she gave his hand a squeeze then got up and walked into the kitchen to start on dinner, accepting that he needed some space. She had lit the wood burning stove and begun chopping vegetables by the time he joined her.

Taking the knife from her hands and setting it aside, Monroe led her to the small kitchen table and sat her down. Then he took her hand, crouching before her at eye level.

"I want you to listen to me, very carefully Charlie." She wanted to get up and run, afraid of what she was about to hear. Probably some speech about a forever brotherhood and other stuff that made her suspect sometimes that her uncle and his best friend had at least made out with each other at some point in their lives.

"Miles is my family, my best friend. He always has been." 'Here it is, the part where he's sorry, but if Miles doesn't like it he'll pick his brother over you and your daughter...' "But you should know by now that you're my family too." He reached out, placing his hand on her rounded stomach. "This baby is a new start, for the both of us. You and she are my priority. And if Miles and Rachel don't like it, then they can suck it."

Charlie looked up, seeing the truth written all over his face, the devotion in his eyes, already, for the tiny little life forming inside her. It made her feel even worse that she had almost tried to be rid of it before Priscilla intervened.

"I swear to you, Charlie, if you give me this chance to be there for you both, I won't ever let you down." Monroe was being so earnest, so sweet, that she had to push back the urge to lean forward and kiss him.

The sick feeling that had filled her constantly for the past three months was finally draining away. She wasn't alone in this anymore. The sense of loneliness had infected her the moment she knew she was pregnant with her former enemies child - a man who had avoided her since the day they had created the child. That was gone now. In its place was a feeling of warm hope, which only increased as he took over, making her rest up while he cooked dinner.

Later on, after he had refused to allow her to help him do the dishes, they sat in front of the fire discussing how to tell everyone.

"You know," Monroe was telling her, the excitement of their news still shining in his eyes, "they might surprise us and be fine with it."

"I hate to burst your bubble, but we both know they'll go crazy, however we tell them." It was hard to worry, tonight, but Charlie still knew that a bigger battle lay ahead of them. The Mathesons weren't going to just calmly accept the situation.

"Well, there's an alternative... not telling them the baby is mine."

She glared across at him, "What, tell them I screwed some random guy and that you only take interest because I'm Miles' niece and Rachel's daughter?" She couldn't have kept the bitterness out of her voice if she'd tried. "Is that what you want? Uncle Monroe, visits when Miles does?"

"No, Charlie," Bass sighed, "That's not even close to what I want." If he told her what he really wanted, she would probably leave town and never look back.

"Then what do you want?" She asked, looking angry all of a sudden.

Did she really think he only gave a damn about her because she was Miles' niece? Hadn't he just told her it wasn't like that? Her face was flushed from the heat of the fire. And no doubt her annoyance at him. The small bump, now that he knew it was there, was obvious through the sweater she still had on. He wanted to strip it off her and lay her down where they were, bask in her beautiful naked form, swollen with part him growing inside of her. It was the most intimate and erotic thought he'd ever had about her. Unused to the more tender side of passion, it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Raw lust he knew well, but Bass had never in his life craved the idea of tenderly making love to a woman. Not until her. What was wrong with him?

Charlie was quietly watching him. Reaching forward, he lifted her hand from her knee and took it, shifting closer. "You've just given me what I want, Charlotte. A second shot at being a father, a chance to do it right. You don't owe me a damn thing, not a crumb of trust, but you're still giving it to me. It's far more than I deserve. Whatever happens with your family, I'm here for that baby. And I'm here for you." Emotion rising, he could feel tears fill his eyes and hoped she wouldn't notice. But Charlie Matheson never let him get away with anything. She wiped under his left eye with a gentle hand.

"It'll be okay." She told him. "One war at a time, remember?" Of course he remembered, Bass had never forgotten a single second of their time together that day. "We don't have to tell them right away, we'll figure it out, won't we?" It took him a second to realize that she was looking to him for reassurance. Once again he was struck by how hard this must have been for her - watching him battle with his loyalties and ending up in a very dark place, not knowing what to do... All while putting up with him being a total asshole to her. Bass was a lucky son of a bitch that she hadn't found a way to end the pregnancy altogether. Then she went and found the strength to tell him the truth, probably expecting him to react badly.

"You've been so brave all this time, Charlie, you can make it through telling them. We'll wait, work this out, together. And when we're ready, they'll know, And if it goes bad, I'll take you both away, whatever it takes. Everything's going to be fine."

When she crawled into his arms, resting against his chest, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. They stayed like that late into the night, talking about the future, arguing about everything from the child's name to who she was going to look most like. The only thing they managed to agree upon was their shared devotion to making sure their child did not grow up the way she had, the way Connor had. They would never lie to her. And they would never, ever leave her.

As the sun started to come up, he carried her to the couch and let her sleep, her face pressed into his chest. The woman he loved was carrying his baby. And this time, if he had to make a deal with the devil himself, he would make damn sure that she survived. Then maybe, just maybe, she would be able to love him back. Even a fraction of what he felt for her would be enough. As he closed his eyes, he saw the same thing as always, the memory that had kept him going through every catastrophe he'd been through since it.

Charlotte was standing on the stairs, smiling down at him with that radiant, hopeful grin. "... One day."