"Four. Two. Four."

"It's not so bad here," Danny said.

"No, it's not," Charlie agreed. "Three."

They were doing what they'd done every day for the past week: walking through town observing the ebb and flow of activity and, most importantly, keeping tabs on the numbers and positions of officers stationed around the compound.

It was always the same, every single day. Guards changed shifts every six hours and patrols were heaviest at night, an extra fifteen bodies that were absent during the day. It made sense, she supposed. Night was when the compound would be most vulnerable to attack, being externally shrouded in darkness as it was. She hoped that Miles took that into consideration when he formulated his rescue plan. As the previous General and the mastermind behind the militia, he would know better than most what vulnerabilities the compound and the militia's strategy would have, if any.

"Have you heard anything about Miles?" Danny asked.

Charlie threw a quick glance over her shoulder at the two officers walking behind them: their own personal guards. They were only three or so feet away, therefore within hearing distance, but as Miles' niece and nephew it wouldn't be out of place for them to talk about him.

"No, nothing so far. Have you?"

Danny shook his head. "Not a word."

"I'm sure he's fine. Perhaps he's just more injured than we'd thought. If he was dead, Monroe would have found out by now. "

"I guess you're right."

They walked in silence for a few more minutes until Charlie came to a halt at the end of the promenade. Across the street there was a little park, currently occupied by a small group of children and two women. Their teachers, most likely. As much as she might resent being held in captivity, she couldn't have chosen a better place to be a prisoner. Visually, at least, the compound was appealing. She loved the trees and manicured shrubs, the wide array of colorful blooms. They'd had a garden back at the settlement where she'd grown up but it had mostly been fruit and vegetables. And Maggie's personal herb garden. There was no land to waste on aesthetics. Here, however…one could almost believe that time had stood still. Everything seemed untouched by the blackout and subsequent decay that had gripped surrounding towns and cities. The buildings were almost as untarnished as the landscape. For all his faults, Monroe – or was it Miles? – had done a wonderful job at providing his people with their own slice of utopia.

There was a commotion by the gate, which she heard opening, but she didn't look to see what was the cause, her eyes still glued to the kids running around, laughing gaily. She wondered if they knew just how lucky they were.

Are they really lucky?, she wondered. Thinking it through, she wasn't so sure. As unfair as it might seem compared to other children who were growing up in poverty or as orphans, she couldn't begrudge them these first few early years of pure happiness, not knowing what lay ahead for them once they became of age.

"Charlie."

At Danny's touch on her arm, she tilted her head in his direction though her eyes remained on the kids.

"Hmm?"

"Your boyfriend's back."

"My boy… What?"

Confusion settled over her features a second before realization hit.

She swung around, gaze drifting over moving bodies until it came to a halt on the face that had haunted her thoughts and dreams for the past two weeks.

Jason.

Relief coursed through her, briefly. She hadn't heard anything to make her think that harm had befallen him on his mission but, as with Miles, she hadn't heard anything to the contrary either. And she couldn't ask. Even though she knew that everyone thought that they'd slept together, she didn't want it known that their relationship, such as it were, was more than physical.

Her eyes glued to his face, heart pounding in her chest as she willed him to look at her. He was just as handsome as she'd remembered, more so even. There was slight stubble along his jaw line and his hair was longer, like he hadn't bothered to cut it while he'd been away. He didn't look any worse for wear so she assumed that his mission had been a success.

Just then, he turned to speak to someone next to him, his lips spreading into a wide smile, and her eyes followed, settling on the beautiful brunette that walked beside him. Or rather, was pressed along his side.

She wore a short, shiny blue dress. The kind she had seen the girls at the hotel wearing.

Did that mean… Was she a wh…

She hesitated to think of the girl like that, becoming friends with Jade after that night made her think twice about jumping to conclusions, but something deep down inside – which she refused to acknowledge as jealousy – made it hard for her not to.

Was she his mission? If so, why? What could she possibly have that Monroe wanted?

Suddenly, Jason glanced her way and for a moment she stopped breathing. She felt like she'd been caught spying. At the same time, a thrill ran through her. After two weeks of wondering and waiting, he was finally back. Their eyes met and held and for a brief moment, she was back there in that bedroom with him two weeks ago, feeling his mouth on hers, his hands on her body, and craving him more than she'd ever thought it possible to crave something.

And then he looked away and the moment was gone. No nod or mouthed words, no acknowledgement of any kind.

As she watched him walk away, the heat in her veins turned to ice.

Jason dropped his satchel on the ground and flopped onto his bed, flat on his face.

Man, he was tired. He was used to being drained but this kind of bone-deep fatigue was rare.

After the debriefing at the General's mansion, he'd introduced Lyanna to the man himself. Monroe had seemed taken with her, as had every red-blooded male in a five foot radius, and welcomed her to the compound. She'd then surprised them both by requesting a position as domestic staff rather than a hotel girl, which they'd both assumed she would prefer given her previous profession. When he'd left her, she'd been getting settled in the maids' quarters in the building next to the mansion. He'd told her he'd see her around and wished her luck in her new life. It sounded like a farewell to his own ears but during their journey to the compound, which had taken days, he'd warned her that they probably wouldn't see much of one another once they got there as he was always either busy with work or preoccupied with a certain blue-eyed vixen. He'd kept the latter to himself, of course. Lyanna had seemed a little put out, which he'd expected since she'd shown interest by way of furtive glances and seemingly casual touches, but no matter how attractive and sweet he found her, his affections already lay elsewhere.

Speaking of…

His excitement had spiked the minute he'd set foot onto the compound. He couldn't wait to see Charlie again. And then…there she'd been, frozen still, staring at him. She'd been beautiful, radiant…and he couldn't talk to her because he'd had to get to Monroe to relay the information he'd been sent out to collect, not to mention that he'd had company. Although it was probably public knowledge by now that he and Charlie had spent the night together – and he was sure that the public's idea of their night was far more risqué than the reality – he couldn't let his guard down. If he'd made a beeline for her so soon as he'd returned, then it would be obvious that there was more than a one-night stand between them. As it was, the only people who really knew of his feelings for her were the rebels. His father knew as well and Monroe clearly had his suspicions, but so long as he didn't act on them, so long as he was careful, no one could use it, and her, against him. And that would in turn keep her safe.

Walking away from her had been hard but he'd done it. However, now all he could think about was seeing her again. He'd been taken off rotation, which meant that he wouldn't be sent on any missions for the foreseeable future, and with his father's promotion he would be spending a lot more time at the compound since Major Neville would now be the master controlling the puppets' strings and not so much a puppet himself. As his right-hand man, where his father went so did he. For once, he was truly grateful to be his father's son. He was tired of life on the road and now that Charlie was here, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

He really wished he could see her… She would probably still be pissed at him for leaving the way he had, and, knowing her, for not greeting her earlier. Once she cooled down, she would probably understand but Charlie was rash and given to impulse, which was one of the things he loved about her. She was so passionate in everything she did and felt, including anger.

He had no reason to return to the mansion, unless he was called for, but perhaps he could find a way to intercept her in the next day or two since she seemed to be able to move around the compound relatively freely. She would be guarded, naturally, which would stunt their conversation but it was the most he could hope for and at this point, he was desperate.

Resigned to having to wait a little longer, he closed his eyes and let long-delayed sleep claim him.

"What's got your panties in a twist?"

Charlie's teeth reflexively ground together but she otherwise showed no reaction. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Carefully, Jade finished applying her eyeliner before speaking. "Come on, now. You weren't your usual bright, sunshiny self when you flounced in here. Something turned that smile upside down. What is it?"

This time, Charlie didn't respond at all.

Swiveling in her vanity chair, Jade raised a brow at her. "I thought you'd be happy, what with your boyfriend being back and all."

"Why does everyone keep calling him that?" Charlie growled.

A look of understanding came into Jade's eyes. "Ahh, I see… So this is about lover boy. What did he do?"

Sighing, Charlie flung the cheesy romance novel she hadn't really been reading and sat up on Jade's bed.

"Nothing," she said after a long moment of silence. "That's the problem."

"What do you mean?" Jade asked, turning back to her reflection.

"Well…" Charlie felt her cheeks grow hot, unsure of how exactly to voice her gripe. "He's been back for two days but he hasn't even tried to see me, that I know of anyway. I guess I figured that…after what happened the last time we were together…"

She broke off, dropping her gaze from Jade's as shyness suddenly overcame her. Jade knew the truth about that night, was the only one besides her and Jason who knew the full extent of what had happened, or not happened rather, between them. Even her own mother still suspected that she'd been taken against her will despite her many assertions to the contrary.

"You mean when he refused to deflower you," Jade supplied impishly.

That had Charlie's head snapping up, her eyes narrowing as she glared at the back of Jade's shiny red head.

"Anyway," she snapped. "I just thought he'd want to talk once he got back. He did leave me that note and all."

"Maybe he does."

"Then why hasn't he yet?" she groaned impatiently.

Placing her brush on the table, Jade turned around again. "I know that you've had a long two weeks of waiting for him to return and now that he has, it hurts to have him near and still be so far. But…while you were sitting idly by for those two weeks, he's been working. That work doesn't stop just because he came back. There are going to be times when you won't see or hear from him at all, times when he'll be gone for weeks and months and you'll be stuck here wondering if he's alive or dead or somewhere in between."

Charlie chewed her lip as Jade's words sank in. "Is that how it is for you?" She knew a little about Jade's relationship with Monroe. No details really but enough to know that Jade really cared about him, enough to perhaps worry when he left the compound. He was a very important man, a wanted one at that. Simply existing was a danger in and of itself.

Jade nodded. "Sometimes." A small smile flirted at the corners of her lips. "But then I remind myself that it'd take an act of God to kill that man and I usually feel much better."

Charlie couldn't resist the laugh that tickled her throat and spilled out. "I suppose… I can't say the same for Jason but he did survive Miles Matheson. That has got to count for something."

Jade's eyes gentled as she looked at the young girl looking so fresh and innocent upon her sensual, satin sheets.

"You really like him, don't you?"

Charlie nodded. "I know that I shouldn't, it's insane to given that we're technically on different sides of this stupid war but…I can't seem to help myself. One minute he drives me crazy and I wish I'd never met him, the next I feel this pain in my chest at the thought of something happening to him, of not being able to see him again. And when he touches me…my stomach hurts."

Jade chuckled at the slight confusion on Charlie's face. "It's called lust, my young friend. By the time I was your age, I'd already had two lovers. There was very little left to be curious about. But this boy, Jason, gave you a taste then denied you the full course. I honestly don't know how you didn't scratch his eyes out. Knowing what I do about what would've awaited me, I don't think I'd have let him live."

"It's that good?" Charlie asked softly, genuinely curious. She knew the technical aspects of sex but she'd never had anyone to talk to about the other stuff. Wanting to know probably made her a pervert but she felt no shame when she talked to Jade about these things, and not just because of her line of work. She just had that cool, knowledgeable, older-sister vibe that made Charlie feel like she could ask her anything. Or tell her anything. She often had to remind herself to keep in mind who Jade's bedmate was. She trusted her but if there was anything she'd learned since she'd left the safety of her community it was that trust only went so far and sometimes it was a one-way street.

"It's wonderful. I have no doubt that you'll enjoy it…that your young man will make it an unforgettable experience for you, when the time comes."

"I'm sure he will," she grumbled. "He's probably had more than enough experience himself."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well…he grew up here, didn't he?" She raised her hands in a sweeping gesture meant to encompass the compound. "Women have always been at his disposal. He's certainly handsome enough to have girls throwing themselves at him, even the ones who don't do it as a career."

Jade cocked her head to the side as she regarded Charlie seriously. "I can't speak about what happens outside of the compound or in his personal domain but I can tell you that he's never set foot in here."

Charlie's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. "Are you serious?"

Jade nodded. "Every man who comes in here has to pass through me before he gets to my girls. If I don't vet them, they don't get served, I don't care who they are. Monroe gave me the run of the place and that's one rule I never fail to follow. I can tell you with 100% certainty that he's never been here. I wouldn't forget a handsome face like that and I'm sure my girls would've been more than happy to spend their time with him if he'd ever sought them out."

"Maybe they did it elsewhere?" Charlie proposed, still unable to believe that Jason could possibly be so…chaste. "Like his room or something."

Jade shrugged. "It's certainly a possibility and I'm sure it does happen occasionally but my girls know that they have a certain level of guaranteed safety here that they don't outside these walls. If anything untoward happens here, it's dealt with. Harshly. Outside of this building, well…they're on their own. It'd be the john's word against theirs. It's not a risk most are brave enough to take. Plus, it's safer for the officers to conduct business here as well. It protects them from baseless accusations…and their wives. Discretion is key."

During her first week of freedom, after Jason had left, Jade had told Charlie about her other job in the compound as a high-school teacher. She'd laughed as she'd talked about having parent-teacher meetings with the wives of men she'd serviced at some time or another and how it thrilled her to look into those snobby wives' faces knowing that they knew that their husbands turned to her and her girls for comfort, or to have their predilections seen to. They were one big hypocritical family, she'd said.

"Anyway, from everything you've said and from what I've heard of him, your guy isn't like the others. If he had been, there's no way he would've walked away from you the way he did."

This time, when heat flooded Charlie's cheeks, it was that of pure delight. She didn't need Jade to tell her that Jason was different, special even, but it didn't hurt to hear it. It didn't solve her problem, though.

Scowling, she said, "None of this helps, you know."

Laughing, Jade rose to her feet and walked to the foot of the bed. "Well, there's only one thing you can do."

When Charlie raised a brow in question, Jade shrugged carelessly. "If he can't come to you, I see no reason why you can't go to him."

"Tell me something, Neville."

Jason tilted his head to the side, slanting a sidelong glance towards the voice that had spoken to him.

He was sitting in the mess hall, or cafeteria – his terminology usually depended on the condition of the place at any given time – having a late lunch, or early supper depending on how one looked at it. He wasn't due for any missions but he'd been assigned to help train the poor, ignorant souls who would be marching south with Captain Baker on what he personally considered a suicide mission. General Monroe must too, in his opinion, which was why he was mostly sending new, untried recruits, not seasoned soldiers like himself.

"The Matheson girl. You haven't been to see her since you returned, right?" the soldier, Lieutenant Ryan Smith, asked.

Jason's jaw flexed. "What's it to you?"

Smith laughed, holding his hands up in a show of peace. "Just an innocent question, don't get mad. I – that is to say we – just figured Monroe was holding her for you 'til you got back and once you'd gotten your fill of her, the rest of us would finally get to sample the merch."

Jason's grip tightened around his fork, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Either that or General Monroe's been keeping her for himself," Smith continued with a careless shrug. "I mean, why else would she be at the mansion and not with the other girls at the hotel?"

"She's not a whore," Jason spat through gritted teeth, coming to his feet.

"Could've fooled me." Smith's idiot friends snickered in agreement. "He did give her to you, after all. As your reward, yes? Everyone knows about it, why pretend otherwise? And, as I see it, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. Where's our reward? We work just as hard as you do, am I right?" He looked to his cronies who, once again, nodded and voiced their agreement. "It must be real good to be Captain – my bad, I mean Major – Neville's son, right? That in itself is its own reward."

"You're forgetting one important detail here," Jason said as calmly as he could through the haze of his increasing anger.

Smith raised a condescending brow. "What's that?"

"She's a Matheson. She's not some hotel girl who walked in off the street. She's the niece of the man who built this militia. Without him, there would be no Monroe Republic."

"She's the niece of a traitor, you mean," Smith corrected.

"A traitor who, in case you haven't noticed, the General still holds in high regard. And she's an important bargaining chip. One day Miles Matheson is going to come through those gates and I wouldn't want to be the man to tell him that he forced his niece to turn tricks. Do you?"

Smith scoffed. "She's just a girl like any other. What would it matter what she does while she's held prisoner here? And it's not like Matheson would even have a chance to find out. The minute he sets foot in this compound, he's a dead man. He may already be dead for all we know."

Jason laughed mirthlessly. "You really have no idea who we're dealing with, do you?"

"You can believe the hype about the legend if you want. The man's flesh and bones, just like the rest of us. He's not immortal. One day his number's going to be up." Smith took a step forward, closing the distance between him and Jason. "Maybe if I killed him myself, the General would see fit to reward me with a little sample of that delectable niece of his." His steel grey eyes flickered as they pored into Jason's. "How was she, huh? Good enough for another turn around the block?"

"Step back," Jason said slowly, his voice dangerously soft.

"Or was she terrible? Is that why you haven't visited her yet? Maybe she just needs the right teacher. Someone to…break her in. You can't expect a horse to perform right out of the gate."

"I swear if you don't move back in the next five seconds I'm going to gouge your eyes out with my fork," Jason seethed.

"One," Smith counted, taunting. "Two."

Jason was sorely tempted to follow through on his threat but he couldn't. Fighting amongst soldiers was frowned upon. Punishment for such an infraction was incredibly harsh: usually some type of beating at the hands of Strausser or one of his equally sick brethren or, more commonly, a fight to the death. He might have hated Smith, and in that moment he really did, but he didn't want innocent blood on his hands. He didn't want to make himself an even bigger enemy in Charlie's eyes; not after she'd finally started looking at him as a man, someone she perhaps admired and understood.

Smith smiled crookedly. "Three…"

"Lieutenant Neville."

"What?" Jason barked sharply, eyes still glued to Smith's.

"Jason?"

At the sound of that soft, questioning voice, Jason snapped out of his furious haze, eyes darting up to meet a pair of concerned blue ones.

The breath went out of him as he saw her standing there in the doorway, relief, excitement and want all vying for precedence in his chest. Swiftly on the heels of that was a deep-seated fear, which flared as his eyes raked over her. What the hell was she thinking coming into a place predominantly crowded with men wearing nothing more than a man's shirt and denim cut-offs? She may as well have been naked for all that it covered.

Pushing Smith out of the way, he strode over to Charlie, gripping her elbow as he came to a stop in front of her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped.

He saw her eyes widen in surprise, knew immediately when her own anger rolled in, her blue eyes turning stormy, lips pressing into a thin line.

"Let go of me," she said coldly.

Ignoring her, he tightened his grip and dragged her out of the building and down the sidewalk. He ignored her curses and attempts to pull away, remaining silent until he reached the converted house that served as his dormitory. The building was dark, which meant that his housemates weren't back yet. Some of them were training the new initiates like he had been earlier, others were probably back at the mess hall or in the pursuit of their own devices.

Turning to the guard who had followed them, he said, "Stay here. No one enters this building until I say so, understood?"

The guard's eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth as if to say something but seemed to think better of it and simply settled for nodding instead.

Satisfied, Jason dragged Charlie through the darkening house, up the stairs and down a short hall to the room at the end. He opened the door, pushed her in and closed it behind him.

He waited until he'd lit a candle before turning to her, hands on his hips, and shouting, "What the hell were you thinking? Coming in there like that. Are you insane?"

Charlie shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. "What's the big deal? It's just a cafeteria or whatever."

"A cafeteria filled with men, strange men, with very low impulse control."

Charlie rolled her eyes dismissively. "What could they possibly have done? Attacked me right there in the middle of the room?"

"Yes," he hissed. "Or worse. Any number of them could've dragged you off somewhere and had their way with you. It's dangerous and uncommon but it's happened before, sad to say."

A chill ran down Charlie's spine and her ire died a little. "I only went in there because I knew you were there. I wouldn't have otherwise."

"Still." Jason took a deep breath, trying to expel his fear as he breathed out. "If anything had happened to you…"

"It wouldn't have." Her mouth tilted into a lopsided smile. "You wouldn't have let it. And I can take care of myself in case you've forgotten."

An answering smile flickered in Jason's eyes. "I haven't." He looked at her for a moment, thrilling in just being near her, before speaking again. "Why did you come, Charlie?"

Charlie glanced away for a moment, steeling her nerves before replying. "You've been back for two days and I haven't seen hide nor hair of you. After the way we left things, well… I figured one of us had to make the first move and since it obviously wasn't going to be you…" She shrugged.

Jason flushed. "I would've come…eventually. I was biding my time." He paused, wondering how much he should admit to but figuring it didn't matter at this point. "If it were up to me, I'd have rushed to you as soon as I set foot in this place. But it wasn't. I had a job to finish. I also needed to take into consideration just how such an act would appear to everyone looking and trust me when I say that there are a lot of eyes on us. General Monroe and my father already know that I have…feelings for you."

Charlie's heart fluttered wildly in her chest at his words.

"I had thought it wise to keep things between us as seemingly casual as possible," he continued, "but you've effectively blown that possibility out of the water. I'm guilty too for dragging you up here. The people around here are simple-minded. You and me in a room, my room, with a guard downstairs with orders to keep everyone out: there's only one possible conclusion they could draw."

Charlie flinched. She hadn't really thought further than tracking Jason down and giving him a piece of her mind when Jade had made her suggestion. If she'd stopped to think on it a little longer, she would have seen that there were many flaws in her plan. "Sorry."

Jason shook his head. Walking towards her, he reached a hand out and curled a lock of hair around his finger.

"I find that I don't really care anymore. Monroe and my father already know, anyway, and they're the only ones I should be worried about. The ones with the power to use you against me. The rest are inconsequential."

Charlie's heart raced as she looked up at him. He was so close now. Truthfully, she hadn't thought this part through either. What came after she had given Jason a piece of her mind? Which, she couldn't help noticing, she technically hadn't. His simple honesty had saved her what would surely have been a belatedly embarrassing rant.

Her eyes shifted to the wide bed behind him before returning to his, her thoughts automatically taking a trip down memory lane. She could think of a few things…had been thinking of them for the past two weeks. She was starting to hate this effect he had on her. After being completely unaware of herself as a sexual being for twenty-two years, one night with him seemed to have opened the gates to a flood of desire that she hadn't known she was capable of.

Was it even that one night, or had it been building since the day she met him, she wondered.

"Charlie."

"Hmm?"

"Even though I should scold you for behaving recklessly, as usual, I'm glad that you're here." He slid his fingers into her hair, cupping her cheek in his palm. "I missed you while I was gone. Every day I was away from you…you were all I could think about. I worked as quickly as I could to get back here as soon as possible."

Charlie's breath shuddered through her lips. "I was afraid you wouldn't come back," she admitted softly. "Every day I listened for word of how you were doing and every day there was nothing. After what happened to Miles… I just couldn't bear the thought of losing you too."

Jason smiled gently. "Your uncle's a strong man. It'll take more than a bullet to put him down for good."

She laughed softly. "That's what I keep telling myself but…I can't help worrying. No one's heard anything about him. Did you? When you were out there?"

Jason shook his head, wishing he could ease her worry. "No. But sometimes no news is good news. If he'd died, trust me, we would know by now. Most likely, he's gone to ground until he's strong enough to come get you. That's what I would do anyway."

Charlie nodded, trusting his judgment since it aligned with her own. "I thought so too."

Silence lapsed between them and as the seconds ticked by, Charlie could feel the lust pooling in her stomach with every brush of his thumb on her cheek, every stroke of his fingers on her scalp.

"Now what?" Jason asked, his intense gaze making her think perhaps he knew what he was doing to her

"I don't know. I figured we could pick up where we left off," she said nonchalantly despite the nerves kicking up a fuss in her stomach.

Jason's eyes widened a moment before narrowing seriously. "Charlie. I meant what I said last time. I don't…"

She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him, wondering as she closed the distance between them where she got the nerve to do it. "I know. But…there are other things we could do." Dropping her finger, she pressed her lips to his.

Jason only hesitated for a moment, a split second, before his arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him, and his lips slanted over hers.

It sounded corny in his head, and undoubtedly would be more so if spoken aloud, but kissing Charlie, holding her, felt like coming home. He'd never known what it felt to come home to someone you cared about, to have someone waiting for you. Sure, there'd been his mother and he loved her to death but she was his mother. The relationship between a child and parent, and mother and her son especially, was in a class all its own. To know, however, that not only had he missed Charlie but that she'd thought of him, feared for him, longed for him, gave him a heady sense of joy and fulfillment.

And power.

He couldn't ignore the swell in his chest, the hope that that fear was a hint, an indication, of her growing feelings for him.

Charlie burned.

That was the only way she could describe it. There were flames licking along her nerve endings, surging through her blood, searing her from the inside out.

She'd thought, naively she now realized, that when she and Jason finally got together again, it would be a continuation of where they'd left off. She'd been wrong, she realized. The sensations coursing through her were entirely new, far more intense than anything she'd experienced before. The hunger, the need for him, was frighteningly intense. Had a mere two weeks really made such a difference? Or had something changed during that time, something she'd been unwilling to examine.

She'd never been one to pay attention to her feelings. Her life had always been about Danny: keeping him safe and healthy. Making sure that he didn't hurt himself, or that no one hurt him. Now, she had all the time in the world to focus on herself yet she still somehow managed, unconsciously or consciously she wasn't sure, to neglect anything emotion based. Her mother, for instance. Though Rachel had tried to talk to her a couple of times, to explain why she'd left, Charlie had always shut her down, saying that it didn't matter now.

Yet, when it came to Jason, that pre-established state of being seemed to go out the window. He didn't allow her to ignore him. Even when he wasn't around, she was almost always thinking about him and it irritated her. In this moment, however, she was thankful. She couldn't regret this, whatever was happening between them, not when it made her feel so alive for the first time in her life. Not when it made her feel.

Kissing Jason was amazing but it wasn't nearly enough. His tongue stroking hers, teeth gently nibbling at her lips, his hands trailing along her back only triggered deeper urges and desires.

He had hiked her up onto the low dressing table against the wall, her thighs spread as he stood between them, and the position made her very aware of how easy it would be for him to touch her intimately. To take her, if he wanted to. But he didn't want to, did he?

Pushing the thought away, she tightened her hold on his shoulders, deepening the kiss.

As the kiss wore on, seemingly never-ending as they only parted for seconds, nibbling on each other's jaws and neck to give their lungs a much needed break before resuming, she became aware that he had pulled her shirt out of her shorts and his hand now lay against the small of her back, big and warm.

"Touch me," she whispered, a plaintive note in her voice. "Please."

Jason took a ragged breath, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looked down at her. If she'd ever had any doubt that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, the naked lust blazing in his would immediately have put it to rest.

"Charlie…"

"I know," she said, staving off his denial. "I know. Just…touch me. Through my clothes, I don't care. I just need you. I need…" She knew what she needed but no matter how far gone she was, she wasn't quite ready to beg him to make love to her. "…something."

For a moment, the room was still, the only sound that of their heavy breathing. But then, Jason lifted a hand, swept her hair over her shoulder and lowered his mouth to her neck.

A soft moan spilled out of Charlie at the touch of his tongue over her pulse. He'd kissed her neck before but this time, he was sucking and laving at her skin in earnest. Fingers of lust skittered along her nerve-endings before pooling low in her belly. Her thighs clenched around him reflexively, her body automatically responding to his ministrations.

She wasn't sure what to expect next, now that Jason was finally loosening the reins on his own desire, but she never could have predicted what came next.

His mouth continued to travel down, along her neck, over her collar bone. When he lifted a hand and began unbuttoning her shirt, however, she gasped from genuine surprise. She didn't stop him, though. She wasn't an idiot. She knew that it went without saying that he wouldn't give her what she really wanted so she was determined to take and enjoy whatever and however far he was willing to go.

He parted her shirt to the navel and began raining kisses atop the swell of her breasts. Overcome by the sensations coursing through her, Charlie closed her eyes and let her head drop back against the mirror, her fingers clenching and unclenching in his hair. When his mouth closed over the sensitive peak of her nipple, she moaned again. Even though the feeling was somewhat distorted by the cotton of her bra, she could still feel the wetness of his mouth on her turgid flesh. Opening her eyes, she looked down at him and saw that he was looking at her, his eyes raking over her face. For some reason, seeing him in action made it all the more sinful and the ache between her legs intensified.

She expected him to stop there, was further delighted when he didn't.

As he moved to her other breast, to pay the sensitive nub there the same attention that he had to her sister, his hand slid between her legs and cupped her. She couldn't feel anything, given the thickness of the denim, but she could feel the pressure of his hand, the warmth of it, and it was enough to rejuvenate her.

Grabbing the sides of his head, she pulled him back up to her and caught his lips in a hot, bruising kiss. She loved the taste of him, the feel. Everything about Jason was so warm. How could she ever have thought that he was as cold and unfeeling as his father? She'd made a lot of incorrect assumptions where he was concerned, and countless other no doubt, but she'd wizened up, sooner rather than later, and had been using her imprisonment for self-reflection. One day she'd have to leave the compound but she was confident that she would be leaving a better person.

"Oh, my god," she gasped into his mouth, freezing.

While she'd been preoccupied with kissing and thinking, Jason's hand had been busy. No longer was it barred by the stiff fabric of the denim, instead it had found its way inside; the thin cotton of her panties the only thing keeping him from her flesh. His fingers pressed inward, against what she didn't know, but a shot of pure, unadulterated pleasure coursed through her, shaking her to the core. She broke the kiss, dropping her forehead against his shoulder, clinging to him as he continued to stroke her.

She couldn't keep still. Her thighs were trembling, opening and closing sporadically while her hips surged forward of their own accord, seeking his touch. And he touched her, boy did he ever. His strokes became more insistent, the pressure stronger than before and his pace quickened, her movements increasing to match his. Before she knew it, she was biting down on his jacket, eyes squeezed shut as her body sought…what?

And then she exploded.

That was the only way she could describe it. One second she was sure she was melting into a needy puddle of goo, on the verge of falling apart and begging him to make love to her, and the next she was flying high, her core clenching against his fingers while the most euphoric feeling ever spread through her system. Her body seized up, fingers and toes curling, mouth agape in a frozen cry. All the while, Jason continued to stroke her as she rode that wave of ecstasy.

When the tremors subsided and her brain could function once more, she placed a hand on his to still his movements, realizing that she felt a bit sensitive now. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back and looked up at him. She was surprised to realize that she didn't feel embarrassed or shy, which she'd assumed she would after her first real sexual experience. Instead, she felt…at peace. A smile curved her lips as she took in his masculine beauty. It seemed a fanciful term but that was exactly how he looked to her in that moment.

"That was…" She cleared her hoarse throat, tried again. "God."

Grinning, Jason gently stroked her flushed cheek with gentle fingers. "Yeah."

"I'm not sure I can walk. You might have to carry me out of here," she joked.

Jason laughed. "That will certainly draw a few curious looks."

"I'm serious. My body feels…weird. Gooey." She flapped her limp arms around to show him and, as if to prove her point, a huge yawn split her lips before she was able to compose herself again. Curling her arms around his neck, she laid her cheek on his chest and closed her eyes. "I think I need a nap."

Jason wound his arms around her waist, holding her gently, but didn't say anything.

"Do you think we could lie down?" she asked softly. "Just for a little while."

He didn't answer immediately and she tensed for a refusal but then he said, "A little while."

She giggled when he scooped her up by the seat of her pants and half-dragged, half-carried her to the bed. He was gentle, though, as he laid her down; slow as he laid down beside her, as if giving her time to refuse him. He was always gentle, she'd noticed. He'd never once touched her roughly or without her permission.

They looked at each other for a while, murmuring silly things, exchanging tender touches. Eventually she dozed off and when she woke up – not too much later, she was sure, because the candle hadn't gone down much – he was still there, just looking at her. The expression on his face stunned her. She felt...he made her feel like the most beautiful thing in the world. She'd never felt that way before. She was aware that she was attractive but it was different, she knew now, to behold one's beauty in someone else's eyes.

Later, looking back, she couldn't say who had moved first, but one minute they were looking at each other and the next they were all over each other. She took the initiative this time, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off, delighting when he reciprocated and completely removed her shirt and bra, crying out her pleasure when his mouth closed over her bare nipple this time.

No matter how much she whimpered, tugged or urged him on, she could feel the steady control in the muscles of his shoulders and knew that he still wasn't going to give her exactly what she wanted. But when he stripped her completely naked and placed his mouth where his hand had been earlier…when his tongue stroked and stabbed until the volcano inside her erupted – who knew she'd had one of those? – and she soared, burning from the inside out from the fire that he'd ignited within her, she forgot that there was anything awaiting them down the road, so thorough were his ministrations, so fulfilled was she by the time he was done.

Afterward, they held each other for long minutes, kissing slowly as the time slipped by. Eventually he broke it off, of course, and showed her to the bathroom so she could get cleaned up. When she returned, he was dressed in crisp, new clothes.

Lieutenant Jason Neville, present and accounted for, yes sir.

Her sarcastic thoughts didn't sour her afterglow, though. She was still high, could still feel the heat in her body, her cheeks. He was still on her skin and truth be told, she didn't want to wash him off. Not yet. She wanted to hold it to her, the way she would hold him if, perchance, she didn't need to go back to the mansion and they could've spent the night together.

He looked at her and smiled and when he held his hand out, she took it and let him lead her downstairs and out the front door.

Her guard followed close behind as they made their way to the mansion but they didn't speak, simply held hands and leaned into each other as they basked in the residual effects of their… What was it that they'd just done anyway?, she wondered. Was it only lovemaking if they had sex or was lovemaking anything they did with their clothes off? Or something else entirely? And what was that thing he'd done with his mouth, my goodness! She would have to ask Jade. Tomorrow, though. Today, she just wanted to keep it all to herself.

Soon, too soon, they were outside the mansion. She didn't want to go in, nor did she want Jason to go and she could see on his face that he didn't want to leave any more than she did.

"I'll find you tomorrow," he promised, trying for a calm smile.

"I'll try to make it easy for you," she offered with a small smile of her own.

Seemingly throwing caution to the wind, he pressed his lips to hers in a short, though tender, kiss. He'd been right about the curious looks. Despite being caught up in Jason and her own emotions, she'd noticed people looking at them as they'd walked over. But, like he'd said earlier, he didn't care anymore so neither would she.

Standing on the tips of her toes, she caught his lips in one last kiss of her own before, dropping his hand and, with a little wave, turning to walk through the guarded gates of Monroe's little fortress.

"Hey, Neville!"

Looking over his shoulder, Jason stopped as he saw who was walking towards him.

He was on his way back from dropping Charlie off, just two streets away from his dorm. He'd been lost in thought, or memories rather if the silly grin he could feel on his lips were anything to go by, when his name being called had finally permeated his brain.

"I thought I'd have jump you to get your attention since you didn't seem to hear me, I called so many times."

Jason smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"Is that all the greeting I get? We used to bathe naked together, or have you forgotten?" Camille Ford, his childhood friend, teased.

Rolling his eyes, Jason grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, spinning her for good measure.

"Happy now?"

Camille grinned unabashedly. "A simple hug would have sufficed but that will do too."

Taking her arm, Jason tucked it through his own and changed course, heading in the direction of Major Stephan Ford's house which, coincidentally, was right next to his parents'.

"Does your father know that you're running around town in the middle of the night unescorted?" he asked.

Camille scoffed. "Please. It's barely 8:00 and I'm a grown woman, who knows how to fight by the way. I can handle myself."

"I've been hearing that a lot lately," Jason muttered to himself.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Your dad still won't be happy to hear you're running loose on the town. What if someone mistook you for a hotel girl?"

Camille came to an abrupt stop, yanking her arm out of his. She pointedly met his gaze, then looked down at herself before meeting his eyes again. "Really, Jason? Really?"

Unable to help himself, he burst out laughing. "Point taken."

The simple linen dress she wore, high-necked and below the knee, was the furthest thing from the skimpy, provocative ensembles the hotel-girls were fond of. He'd seen her in nicer dresses for functions and holiday parties, etc, but the everyday wardrobe of an officer's daughter, or any woman who wasn't a hotel-girl for that matter, bordered on puritan.

Taking her arm again, he resumed walking.

"So where are you coming from anyway?" he asked.

"Mrs. Campbell was having contractions. Your mom's teaching me midwifery. Says the younger generation needs to know how to take care of itself because the older one isn't going to be here forever. You know how your mom is when she gets preachy."

"That I do."

"It was just a false alarm. Baby's not due for another few weeks, maybe a month, so she sent me home."

"Alone?" he inquired, quirking his eyebrow. He knew his mother and she was a stickler for protocol, never going anywhere without an escort herself.

"She might have sent someone with me and I might have slipped him. Anyway," she hurried on, "where are you coming from? Or do I even need to ask."

This time, it was Jason's turn to stop. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She cocked a knowing brow. "I imagine it's the same reason you didn't hear me calling you. Blond hair, blue eyes, niece of our once beloved General Matheson?"

Jason flushed. "How do you…"

"Oh, I just happened to be passing when that marvelous display of puppy love was taking place outside the General's house. Me and about fifteen others so fair warning. You're going to be the talk of the town come morning."

Despite the teasing quality of her words, Jason thought he heard an unmistakable note of jealousy in them.

"You know… I'm a bit surprised, actually," Camille stated.

Jason tensed, bracing. One other quality of Charlie's that Camille shared was her stinging honesty.

"Why's that?" he asked carefully.

Gone was the playfulness; in its place was hurt and barely suppressed anger. "I don't know, why would I be, Jason? How about the fact that before you left with your father, I thought we were a done deal? We grew up together, then the blackout happened and somehow in this madness, we found our way back to one another here. It seemed, I don't know, fated somehow. We've been best friends for most of our lives, our parents are best friends too. I think they also thought, expected even, that we'd get together some day and officially join our families."

"Camille…"

She shook her head fiercely. "Now this blond bimbo comes in and you're like a dog in heat. Everyone knows how obsessed with her you are. You might think no one knows what happened before you brought her here but some do and you know how much officers talk when they're bored or liquored up. Your little infatuation isn't a secret to anyone."

Jason ground his teeth but said nothing. What could he say? Sorry? He wasn't, though, and saying those words would make him a liar.

Camille laughed softly. "You know, it would be different if you were like every other guy. I could brush it off as you sowing your oats. All men do it. Hell, even my dad does. He has a chicky-baby at the hotel, even though he and mom think I'm too innocent to know these things. But she knows and she allows it and if you were like my dad and occasionally needed to expend some excess energy with some whore, I would be okay with it. Or I would try to be. It's my wifely duty to be. But you're not like my dad. You're like yours, a man who has never looked at another woman since he laid eyes on on your mother. I loved that about you. I love that about you. But I loved it because I thought, hoped, that one day you would look at me that way. I'd know that I'd never have to worry about you cheating on me or betraying our vows because I would be your one and only." She paused, took a deep ragged breath. "I saw you tonight. You've never looked at me the way you looked at her. The way your father looks at your mother." She looked at him now and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. "You were never going to look at me that way, were you?"

Jason shook his head. "No," he replied sadly. Once upon a time he might have married her because it was what had been expected and she was a good girl, attractive, funny and sweet and would make a good mother, but now that simply wasn't enough. Now he knew what it felt to have his heart quicken at seeing the girl he liked smile, knowing that he was responsible for it; to wake up hard and heavy after a steamy dream about her.

Camille dropped her gaze, nodding. She wiped quick fingers beneath her eyes and turned away, continuing along the sidewalk to her house.

"Camille," Jason began, taking a step towards her.

She paused only long enough to wave him off and say, "I can find my way home. Goodnight, Jason. We'll catch up soon."

Jason watched her go until she turned the corner, then he followed at a safe distance, all the way to the corner of his street. He watched her go into her house before turning and, with a deep, bone-weary sigh, heading back to his dorm.

Less than an hour ago, it had been the best day of his life. Now, it was hard to relish his moments with Charlie when he was pretty sure that he'd just broken his best friend's heart.

A/N: Happy watching tonight! So excited!

They'd better bring on the Jarlie/Chason this season because we need more fics/writers. Still can't believe Marlie/Chiles shippers/writers outnumber us. It boggles the mind..