Marked Man

A.N: The first story I wrote for the topsy turvy challenge was becoming a bit too Lolita/Coquettish for me. Starting all over, I ended up with a confused Bass, highly amused Connor and Miles, and a teasing, cock-blocking Charlie. I'm not entirely sure that this story, 1. makes any sense to anyone other than me, or, 2. still meets the criteria but I'm sure someone will let me know. And, yes, I have way over-used this trope, but damn, it's a fun one.

"Well, hells bells, Monroe, I can't grant you a divorce or an annulment from that fine, little filly you managed to get yourself hitched to. Now, just how did that happen again? Blanchard asks lowering his voice as he leans forward on his desk.

"It doesn't matter how. You're the President of Texas, why can't you grant one?"

"You weren't married in Texas, Son," the older man drawls like that explains everything as he picks up a lit candle to light his cigar.

Bass exhales loudly through his nose as he runs a hand over the lower part of his face.

"If you had been, I'd sign off on it, but that's out of my jurisdiction. And, as far as I know the Georgia Federation no longer has a working government, so…looks like you're hitched for the duration, or until the laws change."

"Great." Bass mutters storming out of Blanchard's tent. He'd come straight here, leaving Charlie and Miles to write out the reports before they headed back home to Willoughby.

How the actual fuck was this his life right now? Yeah, he liked Charlie, they worked damn well together, and he certainly wouldn't lie about the fact that he found her damn attractive, but up until two weeks ago that was it. Now he was married and couldn't get the God-damned President of Texas to give him a divorce from a girl half his age, which he had no business being married too.

On the plus side, Miles wasn't going to kill him or he would have already and Charlie hadn't attempted to kill him in his sleep yet. Actually, she'd barely spoken to him since they'd said their "I do's" at the business end of a shotgun.

Walking into the tent where he'd left uncle and niece, he cleared his throat getting their attention. He swore for a split second he saw a twinkle in Miles eye.

He jerked his head towards the tent flap, "Charlie, could I speak to you for a minute?"

Miles watches as she licks her lips before pushing her paper and pencil away.

Standing, she wipes her hands on her pants before following Bass' leather clad shoulders out of the tent.

He leads her away from the tents to a spot where they won't be overheard.

Charlie takes a few deep breaths before planting her feet and crossing her arms. "Just spit it out, Bass. It can't be good or you would have said something in front of Miles."

"Blanchard can't grant us an annulment or divorce."

"What? Why not?" She asks her forehead crinkling as she drops her arms. "He's the President of Texas."

Bass bobbed his head up and down and to the side for a moment agreeing with her.

"Exactly. He's the President of Texas not the President of the Georgia Republic."

Charlie opens her mouth to say something before snapping it shut.

"And therein lays our problem." Bass says kicking at the bottom of the tree they're standing next to.

"So we're really married? You and me? To each other?"

"Yeah, Charlotte, you're even wearing the rings."

Flustered, she shoves her hands in her jacket pockets and looks out over his shoulder, her lips sealed in a mutinous line.

He wonders briefly what would happen if she were to let go of this new-found self-control that she wears as a shield.

"I just wanted to let you know not to worry about it. It doesn't mean anything."

That gets her attention.

Her eyes immediately find his. "What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying Charlotte is that you don't want to be married to me and I have no business being married to you. What you do is none of my business. As far as I'm concerned this" he continues on swinging his finger back and forth between the two of them, "never happened."

Charlie's back stiffens as she walks away from him and heads back towards the tent they'd just come from. How stupid was she for thinking that their marriage might actually mean something to him.

She has a few more things to add to her report and then they'll be heading home. Home, back to her grandfather's where she can watch her mother and Miles make goo-goo eyes at each other while she tries to figure out how to not be married, while still being married.

Miles watches as she storms in the tent, Bass following slowly behind her.

"So?" Miles asks the two of them.

"It's over," she replies flatly, sitting back down like she doesn't have a care in the world. "So, there's no need in getting mom's panties ruffled over nothing. I'm sure you can handle that all on your own."

Bass makes a choking noise near the entrance as Miles turns three shades of pink, reaching into his jacket pocket, sliding a piece of paper across the desk towards her. She meets Bass' eyes and makes of show of slipping off her rings, before gathering it all up and dumping it into her pack.

She turns her attention back to the unfinished report on the table. "Let me just finish this up and we can go."

Miles grunts, getting up and heading outside to drop his report off with the Duty Sergeant.

Bass remains at the door watching her.

"Was there something else you needed, Monroe?' she questions not looking away from the paper in front of her, trying to determine where she had stopped.

"I just don't want to see this mess with our working relationship, Charlotte. We make a damn good team."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Sebastian. Now if you don't mind?" she says dismissing him as she puts pencil to paper, completely ignoring his presence.

His back teeth grind together as she treats him the way she did back in their swimming pool days. Hopefully some time and distance from the situation will ease things between them.

Riding into Willoughby, she ignores the men and heads straight to the bar.

By the time they come dragging in, a cloud of road dust hanging around them, she's already purchased a bottle and is heading back out the door. Miles total look of confusion would be adorable any other time.

"I'll see you later, Miles. Don't worry if I don't make it home tonight."

He turns towards Bass as they watch her long strides eat up the floor. "Huh?"

"Charlotte!" Bass growls lowly.

She simply snarls back, barreling her way out the swinging doors.

"What the hell was that?" Miles asks looking to Bass who shrugs with a scowl and heads to bar to order a drink. "She's been acting weird ever since Blanchard signed off on your "divorce."

"What do you want from me, Miles?" Bass asks swallowing his drink and slamming his glass down on the counter.

"I don't know. Did the two of you ever talk about what happened?"

"And when would have liked for us to do that Miles? When you were making sure your bedroll was between ours or keeping her to yourself the entire way home?" Bass snapped. "Divorce is hard on everybody. Just give her some space," he mutters into his fresh drink earning a snort from Miles.

"Hard on whom? The kids? I'm sure Connor'll be real broken up about it."

"You're an asshole, Miles," Bass snaps, dropping a diamond on the bar before walking out.

Dropping his shit off, Bass grabs an empty pack stuffing it with clean clothes and a bar of soap before stomping out his back door heading towards the local "washing hole" as the locals call it.

He's ventured out towards the middle of the springs, swimming laps to burn off some excess energy, when he sees her at the other end looking like a mermaid perched up on a rock in the dying light with her back to him.

Swimming closer he watches as she takes a sip from the bottle she purchased at the bar and then forces it up through her lips in a stream like a living breathing fountain.

"Charlie?"

"Oh, hey honey," she mocks pleasantly buzzed as she enjoys the last few minutes of daylight.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Same as you, I'd imagine. Washing the radiated remains of the Federation off me and rinsing out my unmentionables," she snorts holding up her bra and panties for him to see.

"You're drunk, Charlie, You should go home and sleep it off."

She cackles at the suggestion. "Not just no, but hell no. It's one thing to know that the parental figures in your life have sex, it's something else entirely to hear them."

She leans back on the rock, her long hair flowing behind her as her breasts are proudly on display.

"So where are you planning on sleeping?"

"That would be none of your goddamn business."

He chuckles, giving her a look that is pure Monroe as he begins to backstroke away.

"Have a nice evening. Charlotte."

"Go fuck yourself," she sing songs spurting more liquor up in a way that has it splashing against her breasts.

Flipping over, Bass makes good time back to his spot grabbing his bar of soap to finish his bath and head home.

He can faintly see Charlotte from where he stands and she appears to be doing the same, lathering up her hair before dunking down to rinse it, flipping it back over her head when she's done, head tilted back and face pointed towards the gleaming twilight.

He turns his back and finishes within seconds, standing on the bank drying himself so that he can head back home. It really isn't any of his business what she does. But for some reason it sure feels like it should be.

Bass appears at the Matheson/Porter house early the next morning with some bullshit excuse and settles at the table when he's invited for breakfast. "Charlie out hunting?" he asks innocently enough.

Miles twists the coffee cup in his hand. "Never came home last night. You didn't see her after we left the bar did you?"

"Nope, sure didn't." he lies through his teeth suddenly panicked that something may have happened to her at the spring. "You know, I just remembered that I've got a few things to take care of in town. I'll see you later Miles," he says quickly pushing away from the table.

He finds no trace of her at the spring, no evidence that she spent the night or died a horrible death by drowning. He can't even find a track to follow and begins to suspect that she wasn't as drunk as she wanted him to believe.

Calmer now, he makes his way to town, checking in on her favorite haunts before finally stopping in the sheriff's office to ask Hank if he'd seen her.

"As a matter of fact, she was here waiting for me to open up this morning. Wanted to take a look at the list of available houses in the area. Said Gene's house was getting a bit crowded and it was time to find her own place."

"And you just let her?"

"Now, Bass, you know as well as I do that as long as she pays a years' worth of taxes on it, it's hers' free and clear as long as she wants it.

"Can I see the list?" Bass asks holding his hand out taking the paper that Hank hands him. Quickly skimming the list, he doesn't worry about the taxes because he honestly has no idea how much currency she has and focuses solely on location.

A place that's defendable, has plenty of room for a garden, a short walk to town and somewhere you can get to in any direction without going past Gene's place. He narrows it down to about six different properties in a matter of minutes.

"Thanks, Hank," he says leaving the office.

He catches up to her at the fourth.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asks coming down the stairs tucking her gun away.

"You didn't go home last night. Your family's worried."

She eyes him curiously. "Uh huh. So how you'd find me here?"

"Ran into Hank and he mentioned that you stopped by this morning looking for a place. Wasn't hard to figure out which ones would catch your eye."

"Oh, really?"

"You're not as hard to figure out as you think you are, Charlotte."

She chooses to ignore that remark and continues to look around. She likes this little two-story more than all the others she's looked at so far. The tax is a bit higher than she wanted to pay, but she's horded every bit of her pay since the war started and has a sizable nest egg.

"Well, Mr. Younotsohardtofigureout, what do you think about this place?"

He looks around the inside from where he stands, having already circled around the outside twice. "Needs a bit of work."

She dismisses his concern a smile, "Not to worry, Bass. Plenty of young men in the area who'll trip all over themselves to do some handy work for the town's newest divorcee."

His jaw starts ticking when she turns her back to him. "I guess I'll leave you to it then."

"I'll see you tonight at the bar, right?" She asks suddenly spinning to face him.

"Yeah, I guess, why?" he asks distractedly wanting to get out of here before he does something he can't be held responsible for.

She shrugs almost shyly. "Part of our working relationship has always been drinks at the bar on Saturday night."

He smiles. "I'll see you tonight."

He actually sees her before that, as she pays the taxes on the house and then chats with a few men at the General Store, showing off her fucking dimple as she leads them to her new place, bags of dry goods and supplies for repairs filling their arms as she smiles and flirts.

Not his business, he repeats to himself.

They've been at the bar a few hours when Miles points out that there have been no women hanging on him half the night like there usually is. He looks around the bar and sees the regulars, a few he's hooked up with and wouldn't mind doing so again, but they won't even look in his direction.

It's almost like he has the plague.

Or is married.

He narrows his eyes at Charlie who smiles at him when she notices, suddenly wrapped up in her conversation with Miles about the new house. He decides to let it go for the night as they're relaxed and comfortable and Miles is happy with the two of them for a change and before long he's being roped into helping out at her house the next day.

He arrives at Gene's the next morning to find the wagon hitched and a plethora of odds and ends loaded in it. Miles and Gene have been scouring the basement, attic and barn for extras that Charlie can use to fill the house.

The woman in question walks out the door rolling her eyes, Rachel on her heels.

"Oh look Mom, there's Bass. See we'll have plenty of help now, so you stay here and help Grandpa."

"Are you sure?" Rachel asks one last time her brow furrowed.

"It'll be fine, Mom, promise."

Miles appears from around the corner of the house carrying a tool box that he sets in wagon. "It's not like she's going to college half way across the country Rachel. She's moving to her own place a mile away."

Rachel frowns at all of them before turning on her heel letting the screen door slam shut behind her.

Miles climbs up on the bench seat as Charlie sprawls out in back. "Let's go, Monroe" she calls out, one eyebrow hiked as he stands there.

Shaking his head, he climbs up beside Miles who's muttering under his breath about crazy women.

When they arrive at her house there are several of the young men from town waiting on them.

"Told you the whole divorcee thing was gonna work out well," She winks in Monroe's direction looking like a cat that just had a bowl of fresh cream.

Miles snorts at the expression on Bass' face as the boys all crowd around the back of the wagon and Charlie lays on the charm.

She has them carrying and toting in no time.

As the day wears on she makes lemonade and brings it outside where she's sure to complement those that have removed their shirts, licking her lips like they're the tastiest things she's ever seen.

Miles has been laughing non-stop at her performance while Bass has been simmering in his own juices. Charlie keeps an eye on him from where she stands, thinking that for being a former President slash Dictator he can be pretty dense at times. What the fuck does she need a boy for when she already has a man?

She sends the boys home and offers to fix dinner for Miles and Bass, tempting them with venison steaks and fresh vegetables. As they're cleaning up at the well, Charlie brings them each a towel, absently handing Miles his as she makes sure that Bass knows that she approves of what she sees.

He frowns at her which doesn't seem to deter her in the slightest as she grabs his jean covered ass when Miles isn't looking. He jumps, causing her to grin as she follows Miles into the house to finish up dinner.

Afterwards, they walk through the house to take inventory of what still needs repaired.

Miles offers to come around a few evenings during the week if Rachel can spare him, causing Bass to sputter and whirl on Charlie.

"You're sleeping here?"

"I'm sleeping here, and you're sleeping at your house. That's what divorced people do, Bass." She explains like she talking to a five-year old as Miles chortles in the background causing Bass to turn on him.

"I'd think you'd be a little more concerned, Miles. We haven't even got the doors fixed yet. Anybody could get in!"

"I'm not worried about anybody getting in. You worried about anybody getting in?" Miles asks Charlie.

"Nope." She replies smugly, waving goodbye as she wanders back in the house, leaving the broken door wide open.

Charlie is startled awake early the next morning from the noise of a hammer directly below her.

"What the fuck, Monroe?" she asks as she comes down the stairs in nothing but a tank top, tiny pair of panties and matching pair of handguns.

He frowns as he takes in her appearance. "And what if I was someone you didn't want around, Charlotte?"

"That's what the guns for, Sebastian" she calls over her shoulder heading to the kitchen to light the stove as he watches her barely covered ass. "Besides, I doubt that a stranger would be here to fix my door," she yells from where she is in the kitchen.

He's still working when she puts a pot on to boil and leans against the door frame leading into the kitchen.

"Want some breakfast?"

"Wouldn't turn it away," he grunts picking up the door to re-hang it.

She disappears back into the kitchen to fix eggs and skillet toast while slicing up some fresh fruit. She sets it all on the table and heads back upstairs making sure his eyes are following her the entire way. "Be right back. Breakfast is on the table."

She returns in cut off shorts and another tank top that she's clearly not wearing a bra with, hair thrown on top of her head. She takes the seat next to him. "Any new orders come through yet?"

"No. Thought I'd check in today but I imagine it'll be a while yet."

"Good. Give me a chance to get this place taken care of."

They make small talk about her plans for the day and she walks him out when he's ready to head home. Grabbing his arm, she stretches up to peck him on the cheek. "Thanks for taking care of the door, Bass. I appreciate it."

Not trusting himself to speak, he simply nods.

On Friday night she heads to town, sick of her own company and nabs their usual booth while ordering a bottle from the waitress.

She hasn't been there long when Bass and Conner show up taking seats at the bar.

Just like last Saturday night, the women stay away from Bass but are more than happy to talk to Conner. Charlie watches in amusement as Bass' frown grows the more he tries to figure out what the problem is.

That is until some new blonde trollop comes strolling up next to him, practically sitting in his lap. She watches as Bass eats it up. The longer she watches the angrier she gets until finally Ms. Blonde needs to break the seal.

"Amateurs," Charlie mutters as she darts through the crowd and follows the woman to the outhouses.

Strolling back in less than five minutes later, she slides back into her booth to find Connor waiting on her. He silently pours her a drink and holds his own up for a toast.

"Nicely done," he grins at her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." she replies bringing the glass to her mouth to cover her smirk.

His eyes twinkle as he jerks his head towards his dad. "Poor man just can't figure out what's got all the ladies scared off. I've even tried fixing him up and they nearly run away screaming. Finally found a Chatty Cathy last night."

Charlie remains quiet, a small smile dancing around her mouth as she listens.

"Turns out that my dad went and got himself married and evidently the quickie divorce is debatable."

"No!" Charlie gasps holding a hand up to her chest.

Connors booming laughter has Bass turning to look at them, as Ms. Blonde stumbles in the door, pasty white, looking for the friends she came with, giving Bass a wide berth.

"Yeah, evidently someone close to the bride has warned all the locals that he's hand off and anyone caught sampling the merchandise probably won't like the consequences." He continues, throwing an arm over the back of the booth.

"Do tell!" Charlie exclaims pouring them each another glass as Bass slides off his stool to join them.

He slips in beside her with a frown, accepting the drink she offers.

"What's the matter, Monroe? Run all the girls off with that animal magnetism of yours?" she asks in a playful tone, giving her best impersonation of a Kitten.

He narrows his eyes at her. "What did you do?"

"Now Bass," she says patting his arm, "there's no need to let your paranoia get the best of you. Connor here was just telling me about your female woes. Such a dry streak must really suck."

She shoos him out of her way and slides out of the booth, brushing imaginary dust off her hands.

"I'm headed home since my work here is done. Stop by any time, Junior. We can catch up." She winks at Connor, before patting Bass on the cheek with a faux pout.

Connor shakes his head in laughter as they watch her leave. "Dad, you might as well give it up and go home, too. Tonight is not your night."