Bass woke to the sounds of birds chirping. He lay on his back, taking in the full effect of the sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves. It was hard to believe that a year ago he was being woken up by at the crack of dawn by a blow horn. Suddenly he heard an odd scraping intermingled with the sounds of the forest. Bass sat up and looked around.

Fifteen feet away Ben was diligently striking a piece of flint against a piece of steel. A spark finally leapt to the char cloth Ben had lain on the ground. Ben dropped the steel and flint and picked up the char cloth. He quickly folded the cloth dropped into the center of a small bird's nest. Next he picked up the nest and stood up. Bass watched as Ben blew into the twigs, trying to coax a flame to life. At last Bass saw a trickle of smoke rising from Ben's cupped hand. He carefully placed the nest into the tepee of sticks and smiled with pride. Bass clapped, causing the older man to look over at him.

"Very nice. Your scout master would be proud." Ben had been in the Boy Scouts for six years and had earned his way all the way to Eagle Scout. Marie had wanted Miles to join as well, but Miles had declared that the entire organization was stupid and a waste of time. Bass strongly suspected that this attitude had less to do with the Scouts than it did with the fact that Bass' foster family would never have paid to let him join.

"Don't knock the Boy Scouts, Bass. The stuff I learned from them has helped us survive this past year." Bass didn't doubt that for a minute. The little survival training Miles and Bass had gotten from the Marines hadn't nearly prepared them for the constant struggle of surviving in a world without supermarkets and clean running water. They'd been lucky that their aptitude for handling human threats had prompted people with diverse different skill sets to join them.

Bass had to admit that there had been benefits to communal living. Bass was still not a wilderness expert by any means, but he'd acquire enough knowledge to feed and warm himself.

"Don't be so defensive, I wasn't mocking you. I know from firsthand experience that lighting fires without matches is not as easy as it looks." Bass thought of the hours he'd spend mastering how to start a fire using two sticks and grimaced.

"Thanks." Ben smiled at Bass and sat back down on to a log to admire his handiwork.

"You're welcome. Now, what can do to help?" These days survival was a full time occupation and Bass wanted to stay busy. The longer he could avoid thinking about all the information that had been dumped on him last night, the better.

"You've done enough already. Besides you're our guest." It was so typically Ben to holding on to the polite traditions of a world that had ended.

"I appreciate your graciousness as a host, but it's the end of the world. This is not arguing about who is responsible for doing the dishes." It was silly to pretend hold on to etiquette rules that no longer made sense. Staying alive these days meant that everyone pitched in.

"Can you believe we used to argue over things like that? Seems like another lifetime, another world. Everything's changed." Ben stared into the fire, his face growing solemn. Bass had to acknowledge that Ben was right. The old Ben was never prone to these sudden, dark moods. Bass decided he didn't like the change. He cast his eyes around for something to pull Ben out of his funk.

Bass' gaze fell on a dark object partially concealed by the log Ben sat on. He picked it up and examined it. It was one of the burnt pieces of meat that Ben had served for dinner last night. One of the kids must have snuck it off their plate when no one was looking. Bass dropped the meat onto Ben's lap and sat down next to him.

"I'll tell one thing that hasn't changed; you're still a terrible cook. You haven't learned by now to let Rachel handle the culinary arts?" Ben shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes.

"Just because we're living like cavemen, doesn't mean we need to return to Stone Age gender roles." Bass held up his hands defensively.

"Oh, I don't think Rachel should do the cooking because she's a woman. I think she should do it because she is way better at it than you." A reluctant grin made its way across Ben's face.

"Thank you very much Chef Ramsey. You kind words are deeply appreciated." Bass smiled at the popular culture reference. At least Ben was now focused on happier memories of the past.

"Do you think he's still alive? Gordon Ramsey?" Bass tried to imagine a post Blackout version of Hell's Kitchen. "Is the fried squirrel! It should have been done twenty minutes ago! God you've completely over-cooked it. Are you completely incompetent! This is a disaster. This is a F*****disaster!"

"If he is I'd guarantee you he's a much less picky eater." Ben had a point. Gourmet dining was definitely a thing of the past.

"What was that we ate last night anyway?" Bass had been too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice what he was putting in his mouth. Judging by the leftovers he'd found, that probably wasn't a bad thing.

"Raccoon." It wasn't anywhere near the most disgusting thing Bass had eaten since the Blackout, but it definitely made him reflect fondly on earlier days.

"Damn, do I miss McDonalds. I'd kill for a quarter pounder right about now." His mouth watered at the memory of the juice beef patty topped with cheese, onions, and pickles.

"Not me. I'd take a fish filet." The words "fish filet" gave Bass an idea.

"You want a fish filet? Because I can get you a fish filet, just point me to the nearest body of water." Fishing had become Bass' specialty in recent months. He could catch fish in three different ways without ever using a pole.

"There's a pond about thirty minutes east of here. It's full of fish, not that I've been able to get my hands on a single one." Ben shook his head ruefully at the memory.

"What, they didn't have "Introduction to Trout Tickling" at the University of Chicago?" Although Bass was joking, a part of him felt bad for Ben. He'd spent years in school earning a Bachelor's, a Master's, and finally a Doctorate, never knowing he would have been better off practicing sticking his arm into a river and snatching fish that swam too close.

"Oddly enough, no. Nor did they have a seminar in spear throwing. To think that they promised to equip me with the skills I'd need for my future life. I should track down the dean right now and demand my money back."

"And if you got it back, what would you do? Use the bills as tinder for a fire?" Bartering was the primary system of economics these days. Nobody needed green pieces of paper anymore.

"It's strange how quickly something can go from being valuable to completely worthless, isn't it?" Ben abruptly turned away, but not before Bass had caught a flicker of emotion across his face. It was the same look he'd seen when Bass had told Ben he'd only get in the way of Rachel's rescue. It hit Bass that Ben hadn't just been talking about money; he'd been talking about himself.

Before the Blackout Ben was an excellent provider for his family. After the Blackout the things like being well educated, and having a good job no longer meant anything. Ben had lost the ability to take care of his family and it was eating him alive.

"What time a day did you try to skewer those fish onto your spear?" Bass had betrayed Ben and he'd never be able to make that right, but he could at least offer some advice that would keep him from feeling useless.

"The afternoon, why?"

"It would have been easier at night. That's when the fish come to the surface of the water." A man name Henry Dwight had tutored Bass in the fine art of angling with a sharp stick. It had taken several moonlight nights in various small ponds, but eventually Bass had mastered the knack.

"Seriously?" Bass laughed at Ben's deadpan expression.

"Trust me, I am Bass the Fish Whisperer." Bass heard a twig snap behind him. He turned and found Charlie a few feet away. She had already changed out of her Dora the Explorer pajamas and back into her tee-shirt and shorts.

"You talk to fish?" Charlie cocked her head to one side as she waited for an answer. Unfortunately Bass had suddenly lost the ability to form coherent thought. The words She's my daughter. She's my daughter. She's my daughter, played on a perpetual loop inside his head, making it hard to concentrate.

"Uh, Charlie, hi. I didn't see you there." Bass resisted the urge to slap his forehead. Could he possibly sound any more awkward?

"Hi. So, can you talk to fish?" Bass swallowed and tried to come up with an appropriate response. He told him he would be fine. He'd been able to talk to her yesterday without too much difficulty. Of course that was before he'd know for certain that she was his daughter. It shouldn't have mattered, but somehow it did. He should try a joke. Kids liked jokes, didn't they?

"Anyone can talk to fish. The trick would be getting them to talk back." Charlie stared at him, frowning in confusion. Bass was clearly no Jerry Seinfeld. Behind him, Ben chuckled at Bass' less than successful attempt at humor. Bass turned to glare at him, which only made Ben laugh harder. When Ben recovered himself, he walked over to stand beside Bass.

"I don't think I officially introduce you two last night. Bass, this is my daughter, Charlie. Charlie, this is my old friend Bass. Why don't you two get to know each other while I go get some more wood for the fire." Ben ignored Bass' silent plea not to go and strolled off into the woods, leaving Bass alone with the seven-year-old.

"Aren't bass a kind of fish?" It took Bass a moment to understand Charlie's question. Of course she would ask about his name. He had to admit that objectively 'Bass' sounded strange the first time you heard it.

"They are. Feel free to call me Uncle Fishy." Bass couldn't believe the things that were flying out of his mouth. Uncle Fishy? Really? He needed a muzzle.

"Why do you whisper to fish?" How could he explain his joke to someone who had never seen the movie The Horse Whisper?

"I don't. I was joking with your dad about being such a good fisherman. In fact I need to go the lake and catch some for your family." Bass scanned the campsite for reinforcements. Where was Rachel? He couldn't leave Charlie here by herself, but he also wanted to end this conversation before he'd succeeded in convincing Charlie he was a complete idiot.

"You're leaving?" Charlie sounded surprisingly disappointed. Maybe he wasn't making as bad an impression as he'd feared. The thought lifted Bass' spirits considerably.

"Just for a few hours. I'll come back later tonight with my catch." And hopefully the ability to string intelligible sentences together.

"Can I come?" Charlie's request took him completely by surprise. He'd assumed that after last night Charlie would want to spend the day clinging to her mother's side. The kid was tough, he'd give her that.

"If your Mom says okay, then sure." The words tumbled from his mouth before he'd had the chance to stop them. What was he thinking? If he couldn't keep it together for a one-minute conversation, how would he be able to last for the hours it would take to catch enough fish to feed five people?

"If I say what is okay?" Bass froze at the sound of the voice behind him. People were sneaking up on him way too easily today.

"Mommy, can I go to the lake with Uncle Fishy?" Bass turned to look at Rachel, not at all certain what her reaction would be.

"Uncle…what?" Rachel raised her eyebrows at his ridiculous new nickname.

"Uncle Fishy. He said it was okay with him of it was okay with you. Can I go? Please, please, please?" Rachel's lips pressed together in a solemn line. Bass' stomach sank. While Charlie's eagerness to spend time with him was a definite ego boost, Rachel's reluctance to let her was not. Finally Rachel smiled down at Charlie.

"Tell you what, why don't take these berries over to your brother and you two can have breakfast while I talk to Uncle Fishy." Rachel bent down and passed Charlie the bowl she'd been carrying. Once Charlie was out of earshot, Rachel turned back to Bass.

"So, a day at the lake with Charlie? Sounds fun." Bass didn't know what to make of her tone, but he decided to go on the defensive as a precaution.

"I didn't ask her to come."

"But you said yes when she asked." Rachel was still completely unreadable and it was starting to piss him off.

"What's the problem Rachel? She'll be safe with me, you know that." Bass might not be the world's best babysitter, but at the very least he could be relied on to protect Charlie from serious harm.

"It is not her physical safety that concerns me. I'm worried about the effect spending time with you is going to have on Charlie." Bass blinked at the verbal slap, which had caught him completely off-guard. Last night Rachel was perfectly willing to share partial credit with him for helping to create Charlie and this morning she was convinced he was a bad influence Charlie had to be protected from. Her attitude changes were giving him whiplash.

"You're nervous my vices are going rub off on her?" What kind of corruption did Rachel think he was going to expose Charlie to? Did she think he was going to slip her alcohol or teach her curse words?

"I'm afraid you're going to make her love you." Once again Rachel completely blind-sided him.

"What are you talking about?" Rachel sighed and ran a hand through her long blonde hair.

"Bass, she's known you for less than a day and she's already in awe of you. She knows you saved my life and that makes you a superhero to her. Add that to your being the way you are and she could become very attached, very quickly." Bass didn't know how to respond at first. Rachel had to be wrong. The girl had just watched him make a complete ass of himself. If she wanted to keep hanging around him it had to only be to see what stupid thing he was going to say next. And what had Rachel meant by , "The way you are,"?

"'The way I am'? What does that mean?" Rachel pursed her lips and shot him her annoyed look.

"Come on Bass, you know what I mean." For once, Rachel was wrong. He didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about.

"No, I don't." Rachel squinted at him, trying to judge if he was serious or not. Bass shrugged his shoulders in genuine confusion.

"You have this…charisma that draws people in. You have to know that." Bass thought back to his school days. He had always been popular with his fellow classmates, but he'd always assumed that was because he worked at it. He'd learned to funny, and to project confidence. He took care of his personal appearance as best he could, and worked hard to make the most out of his natural athleticism. He'd also been gifted with good looks, if he did say so himself. The combination of all those things was what made people like him, not some indefinable aura.

"Even if you're right, what is your point? What would be so wrong with Charlie liking me?" It wasn't like he was trying to take Ben's place; that ship had sailed years ago. What was so bad about Charlie caring about him?

"Charlie's been through enough already without having to her heart broken by you." It was nice to know Rachel had such a high opinion of his character.

"You're so sure I'll break it." Did Rachel think he was some kind of a monster? He would NEVER deliberately hurt Charlie.

"Have you made up your mind about what you're going to do about Miles?" Rachel's question stopped him short.

"No." He'd wrestled with the decision for hours last night and still he had no answer. For a decision this big, he needed more time.

"So you don't know whether you'll be sticking around. You don't know if you'll be here for another day, or week, or month. When you do finally leave, you don't know when or if you'll be coming back again. All I ask is that until do you know, you'll be careful. Can you do that?" As much as he hated to admit it, Rachel was right.

"Yeah, I can do that." He looked over at Charlie, who caught his gaze and smiled at him. She was so beautiful, the spitting image of Rachel. The photograph he had of her didn't do her justice. He felt an odd tugging sensation inside his chest. Rachel was worried that he'd steal Charlie's heart, but Bass was starting to think that the real danger was to his.

"Good. Then I wish you luck on your fishing expedition."