Charlie Matheson is not looking forward to tonight. She is standing in the foyer of her Uncle's building, dreading going up to his apartment. A party at her Uncle Miles' place should be fun. It used to be fun. Now it's awkward and stressful and frustrating. Oh so frustrating. She wonders if she should skip it and go home, or maybe call a friend to go with her. Thinking about using her phone makes her wonder where it is. She starts digging in the leather bag she carries as she enters the elevator. Charlie absently pushes the '17' button for Miles' floor, and is still searching the pockets of her purse when the doors begin to close. She hears a flurry of footsteps and then the doors shudder to a stop as a hand pokes through the opening. As the doors retreat, Charlie looks up and sees who the hand belongs to.

Bass Monroe – the sole reason for her frustration - stands there, grinning at her.

"Hello Charlie." He says as he enters the suddenly tiny space. His voice is low and sexy and Charlie feels a little shiver crawl down her spine.

"Bass." She says, trying her best to sound bored.

He smirks at her, slowly letting his eyes wander up and down her frame. Shit. Shit. Shit. How is she supposed to stay strong when he looks at her like that? She bites her lip and his gaze zeroes in on the place where her teeth dig lightly into the pink flesh. He exhales slowly, the smirk is gone. She realizes he was pretending too. He's just as bothered by their closeness as she is. Shit. Shit. Shit.

If they can't handle a four minute elevator ride, then they are screwed. This party will be just like the last one and the one before that. They'll drink too much and end up sneaking into a dark corner somewhere to make out – only to swear it will never happen again. It should never happen again. They agree on this, they really do. And yet…

The elevator doors have shut, but the car isn't moving. Charlie reaches out to hit the button again – even though it's clearly still selected - the round 17 glows at her mockingly. Bass reaches to push the button at exactly the same time and their fingers touch. The feel of his flesh against hers – even in this innocent context brings on an internal slideshow of memories. Dark corners, heated kisses, tongues battling, hands searching, his erection – thick and hard – against her belly... Charlie feels a surge of lust shoot straight to her core. She looks up at him, watches as his eyes dilate; his lips pull back from his teeth in a needy snarl. Clearly she's not the only one remembering.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

They both yank their hands away from the button as the elevator car begins to move, slowly taking them to the party and an awkward night sure to be full of unresolved tension and unrequited desire. Memories assail her again: his mouth on her neck, his hand in her panties, his fingers stroking her clit, dipping into her opening to feel how wet she is for him, her own hand grasping his throbbing cock… She steals a glance his way again and he's watching her. He's watching her like she's prey and he is the hunter. He's watching her like she's a steak and he's a starving man.

Bass' eyes meet hers and they share an unspoken acknowledgement. They both wish things could be different. They both wish this thing between them could be allowed to exist. They both wish….

"Ah fuck it." Bass growls and he's on her in a second, pressing her body against the back wall of the elevator, his mouth on hers in a kiss that is hungry and urgent and so very familiar. Charlie can taste a hint of whiskey on his tongue as she sucks it into her mouth. Her hands wander greedily over his back and stroke the curls at the nape of his neck. His fingers grasp intently at her hips, pulling her lower body closer to his own.

"We can't do this." She pants between kisses. "We can't."

"You keep saying that, and yet here we are… again." He replies throatily, biting down on her ear lobe while his hands move up to cup her breasts. She reaches under his tee shirt, her fingertips softly tracing the muscles defined there. Without warning she drags her fingernails along his spine and he cries out before angling his mouth over hers in a kiss that is even more urgent than the one that came before.

They break apart, breathing ragged, eyes glazed. "What is wrong with us?" she asks, her voice scratchy and unsure.

Bass shrugs, his hand still stroking and cupping her breast. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong with us…with this." He frowns at her before leaning in for another kiss. This one is different. It is almost gentle. "Nothing Charlie."

"That's not true," She says, "or we wouldn't have to hide it." His lips feel like heaven on her throat. Her hands move to his chest, rubbing softly over the cotton covered muscles, exploring every ridge of defined flesh.

When it happens, at first Charlie thinks it's all in her head – the way everything goes shaky and she feels off balance, but then Bass pulls away with a frown.

"What the fuck?" he asks the air around him as he looks at the big square of plastic in the roof of the elevator - the big square that glowed dully just moments before with artificial overhead light. Now the lights are out. The only glow comes from a small LED emergency bulb in the corner. Charlie notices this and then glances at the panel of buttons. The 17 isn't glowing anymore. Nothing is. And they aren't moving. They aren't moving at all.

"Oh shit." She says, her voice a whisper. "The elevator is stuck."

"We should call Miles. See if he can get the Super or somebody over here to help us."

"I don't have my phone." She says, remembering the fruitless search from earlier. "Do you have yours?"

She feels it before she hears it…the rumble of Bass' laughter bubbling up from his gut.

"What's so funny?" she asks. Their bodies are still pressed together. He lays his forehead against hers, leaning in to lightly kiss the tip of her nose.

"Well," he says, still chuckling, "We are stuck in an elevator. You don't have your phone. Neither do I. I left mine in Miles' apartment when I went back to my car for this." He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a fifth of Jack Daniels. "So, we're stuck here for who knows how long. Nobody knows where we are. We are stuck in here, alone." He repeats this last bit and his voice now has an edge, "And not only did I leave my phone upstairs, I also left my wallet there."

"So?" she asks, her hands already roaming again.

"My wallet," he continues, "which is where I put the condoms I'd brought tonight just in case you and I found some time to be alone…"

"Oh." She says, realization dawning. "But why would you think… I mean, we've never went that far before."

"Yeah." He sounds as frustrated as she feels. Bass pushes away from her and goes to the other side of the car, leaning against the wall, watching her with hooded eyes. The strange blue light flickers and she sees how he flexes and relaxes his fingers as he tries to calm down. "I know Charlie. Believe me I know. I guess I was hoping for more this time. That's all."

Shit. Shit. Shit. Again she is drowning in flashes of memory: hard muscles tensing under searching fingers, his mouth on her nipple as he worships it with his tongue, feeling his body shiver as he comes over her hand…

"Someone will figure out we're here." She tries to sound confident, but fails. "We just have to wait them out. Maybe we should have a drink?" she asks wishing he hadn't decided to move so far away.

"Okay." Bass nods, unscrews the cap on the whiskey and takes a drink. He holds the bottle out for her.

Charlie frowns and slides down the wall to sit on the floor of the elevator. "Come over here and sit by me. I won't bite."

He hesitates. She's almost given up when finally he moves over and sits against the wall. No part of their bodies is touching, but at least now they can pass the bottle easily.

"What did you mean?" she asks after taking a deep drink.

"About what?"

"Wanting more. You said you wanted more."

Bass looks at her like she's grown a second head. "What do you think I meant Charlie? I'm forty-three years old. I don't want to just make out with you at parties."

"You brought condoms, so now you want to just fuck me at parties?" she teases nervously.

He shakes his head, clearly not finding the humor in her words. "You know I want more than that. I've called you. I've texted you. I came by your place all those times. I've asked you out over and over. You always brush me off. Miles' stupid parties are the only place I can expect any time with you." He takes another drink before handing her the bottle. "So yeah, I want more. I thought that was obvious."

She doesn't meet his eyes. Instead she stares at the amber liquid and the way it refracts the weird blue light of the safety bulb. "I want more too, I just don't know how we can do that…" her voice is so soft he almost doesn't hear her.

Bass lets out a deep breath. "We need to talk to Miles. I know you are worried that he's going to go ape shit, but I don't think he will. You are not a kid anymore. He'll understand."

She shakes her head, "I don't know." She adores Miles and the thought of him being mad at her or worse yet, doing anything to hurt Bass, makes her nervous.

"What's the worst that can happen?"

"He could stop talking to me or to you or to both of us. He could hit you or shoot you. He could tell my parents."

Bass is chuckling. Maybe it's the whiskey. Maybe it's being close to her after weeks of not seeing her. Whatever it is, he's starting to relax. "Miles doesn't know how to give anyone the silent treatment. He likes the sound of his own voice too much. He can try to hit me but I hit back. He won't shoot me because he'd lose his job on the CPD. As for your parents… Jesus Charlie. You are twenty-three. Who cares? You don't live with them. What can they do?"

"I don't know." She takes another drink, feeling the warmth of it wash over her. "It's getting harder."

"You have no idea." He mutters.

She barks a laugh, "That's not what I meant," she turns to face him, "I meant it's getting harder to brush you off. I miss you when I don't see you. When we're together I feel…"

He leans closer. Their lips are almost touching. "You feel what?"

"When we're together, I feel," she hesitates again before forging on, "I feel like I've been asleep and you are waking me up. When we're apart…" she brushes his lips with hers, "I feel like I'm just going through the motions."

"Mmmm, I understand." He says quietly, angling his mouth over hers. This kiss is tender and searching. He pulls back, looking at her with hooded eyes. "I feel the same way."

She snuggles into him, "Do you really think we should talk to Miles?"

"Yes. We've been doing this – whatever this is – for six months. I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want to always have to wait for Miles to decide to throw another damn party just so I can touch you again. Thank God he likes to have parties, but still…" He runs his fingers along her jaw line, splaying them across the side of her neck, pulling her closer into another searing kiss.

They are hungry for each other. Bass searches the depths of her mouth with his probing tongue. The angle is strange and Charlie wants to be closer, so she moves to straddle him. This new position allows her to lead the kiss for a while. He lets her, enjoying the feel of her weight on his thighs. His fingers run underneath the hem of her shirt and he lifts it clear, tossing it aside. Bass pulls her closer, burying his face between her breasts, sucking lightly at the tender skin there. His hands go to the lace covered mounds. He molds them with his fingers, tweaking the nipples while she moans.

They both freeze when there is a jolt and then a whining metallic sound.

"What was that?" Charlie asks.

"No idea. Don't worry about it." Bass says, clearly distracted. He begins to lick and nibble at the soft skin of her breast. She sucks in a ragged breath as he wraps his lips around one lace covered peak.

They hear the noise but it doesn't register right away. It's when the lights flicker on that they realize the sound they hear are the elevator doors opening. "Shit." Bass says when he looks up.

"What is it?" Charlie's back is still to the door.

"Hey guys." Miles says from behind them. "I'd ask what you're doing, but as a police detective, I think I got this one figured out." He sounds drunk, but clearly he's enjoying himself.

Charlie is scrambling to find her shirt and put it back on. Bass hasn't moved, but she can feel the tension. He's coiled and ready for anything Miles throws his way. She turns to face the now open elevator door and can't hide her confusion.

"What the hell is going on out there?" She asks. Standing on the other side of the elevator door is not only Miles, but at least ten other people. Each of them is holding a burning candle even though the hallway is filled with light. They are all laughing and pretty drunk.

"We didn't know where you were when the brown out hit. We decided to form a search party." Miles' words are somewhat slurred, but he is very proud of himself. "Just got lucky. When the power came back on just now, and the elevator doors opened, you were sitting right here on the 17th floor. It was like… the easiest search ever."

The drunken idiots behind Miles cheer. Some of them blow out their candles. Some wander off.

"A brown out?" Bass asks, ignoring the rest of Miles' words for now.

"Yep. Just localized to ten or so blocks around here. It wasn't the apocalypse or anything." Miles is laughing again as they walk out of the elevator and the doors close behind them.

They all trudge back toward Miles' apartment where more people are hanging out. Music is playing and booze is clearly flowing freely. Miles stops them before they go inside. For the first time, he looks totally sober and Charlie realizes the drunken idiot guise was not truly reflective of his current state. "So, how long has this been going on?" Miles points from Charlie to Bass. "No don't tell me. Let me guess." Miles squints at them for a few moments, and then his gaze zeroes in on Bass, "Six months, give or take a week?"

Charlie stares at Miles in surprise. He's exactly right.

"But how did you know that?" she asks.

"That's how long Bass has been saying no."

"Shut up Miles." Bass warns, his tone grim.

"Saying no to what?" Charlie asks, her curiosity peaked.

"To every damn thing." Miles says with a huff. "Bass adores women, always has. But for the last six months, he has kept his distance. No women at all, no hook ups, no booty calls, no anything. He went cold turkey."

"Shut the fuck up, Miles." Bass growls.

"His ex came sniffing around a month ago, and she is hot – has the biggest tits ever... damn. He didn't even hesitate. Told her to take a hike. He stopped going to bars with me if he knew I was only looking to get laid. I had a feeling he was whipped. Just didn't' know how badly or by whom." He motions to Charlie. "Now it's all starting to come together." Miles smirks at them both.

Charlie watches her Uncle carefully, "You don't seem very upset."

"Why would I be upset? You are both grown ass adults. This is none of my business." Charlie's mouth drops open in shock. She looks at Bass and sees he's mad – really, really mad.

Bass whirls on her. "See? I told you he wouldn't care. God damnit Charlie! Six fucking months!" Then he flings the half empty whiskey bottle at the wall of the hallway where it shatters, liquid splashing all over the wall and floor. Bass stomps into Miles' apartment. Charlie watches the whiskey pool on the floor. She really doesn't know what's going on.

Miles pouts – also eyeing the spilled liquor, "Well, I know he's frustrated, but that was just wasteful."

In moments, Bass is back. He grabs Charlie's hand and leads her back toward the elevator.

"Where are you guys going?" Miles asks. "You just finally got here."

Charlie looks at Bass, "Yeah, where are we going?"

"Do you still live on Camden?"

She nods.

"Then we're going to my place. It's closer." His jaw is tight, his voice sounds tense. She watches as he tucks his phone and wallet into his pocket. Clearly retrieving his things is why he'd gone into Miles' place after breaking the whiskey bottle.

"Why are we going to your place right now?" she asks, confused.

"Because I'm not waiting any longer Charlie. I can't wait another damn minute."

"Oh." She says, her eyes wide. A slow smile spreads across her face. "Okay."

He looks at her, notes the smile and returns it with one of his own, though he still looks tense.

Hey." She says quietly while they wait for the elevator doors to open. He's still holding her hand. She makes a point to rub slow circles in his palm and take a step closer.

"Hey what?"

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you. You were right. We should have gone to Miles a long time ago."

"Yeah, we should have." The doors open and they get in.

The doors swish shut behind them and Charlie leans into Bass. She reaches up and runs a finger along the stubble on his chin. "There's one thing you should know."

"What's that?" he asks, unable to look away from her eyes.

"I've been saying 'no' too."

"Saying no to what?" he gently pushes a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Every damn thing." She repeats Miles' words with a sigh, leaning in to kiss Bass softly.

Charlie feels most of the tension seep from him all at once. He turns to face her, "Really?"

"Really. I know I've kind of been a tease and I'm sorry about that, but I wasn't messing around with anyone else. It's just been you for a really long time."

He pulls her into an embrace, "Same here. All that stuff Miles said was true. You're the only one I've wanted for a long time." He kisses the top of her head and she sighs. His hands slide down her arms and he grasps her waist, pulling her close. Now his mouth is on hers and it's sweet and full of promise. She loves the way he touches her. She loves the way he makes her feel alive. He's lost in the kissing and the touching at first, but then he scowls.

"What's wrong?"

"My place suddenly seems very far away." He frowns, still kissing her.

"Yeah, I guess so." She says against his mouth.

He pulls away and looks at her, their gaze locks. "Ah fuck it." He leans over and hits the emergency stop button. No sooner has the elevator shuddered to a stop then he's on her, pressing her body against the back wall of the elevator, his mouth on hers in a kiss that is hungry and urgent.

"I thought we were going to your place?" she asks, breathless.

"Oh we will. But first, let's finish what we started right here."

Charlie grins, "Mmmm, sounds good to me."

**END**

Author's Note: Just some fluffy one-shot fun that I needed to get out of my system before I start the final chapter of Cold Dish – part of which is going to be a little on the tense side. Final chap of Brush Strokes is written and you will see it soon. Right now it is in the very capable hands of Priya for final review. The last chap of Cold Dish will probably follow by the end of the week. Then (in the next month or so) you'll start seeing some brand new charloe chapter fics from me… so stay tuned.

If you have a moment, leave a comment. I like writing these little one-shots, and the more comments I get, the more inclined I'll be to write more of them – just sayn.