Return to New Vegas

A/N: Back with the third and probably final instalment of the 'Attached' series that's basically a loose interpretation of where I would have liked the much coveted Season 3 to go. This is a sequel to my story To the Ends of the Earth, so just to fill you in in case you haven't read that one – Charlie and Bass are together, with Miles and Rachel's blessing (more or less). Unbeknownst to anyone, Charlie was pregnant, but she miscarried when she was beat up by the Patriots. Bass watched the whole thing go down but was of course also captive so couldn't do anything to help her. They struggled with some demons but managed to push forward, so now the merry little group will go down the Plains Nation so the Patriots can lose their scent. This is going to be a longer one, probably looking at around 15-20 chapters but I don't have loads pre-planned so expect longer breaks between chapter drops.

I'm also currently reading Midnight Sun and the first night I went to sleep after reading the book I woke up an hour later with a full on crossover in my head. I wrote a lot of it down and was wondering if anyone would wanna see that? Fun fact: the only reason I rewatched Revolution during lockdown in the first place was because they announced Midnight Sun and after I was rewatching the Twilight movies, I just wanted more of Billy Burke in my life so I thought why not, Miles Matheson and Charlie Swan are basically just the same character.

But long story short that's why I'm now pestering the world with these fanfics. Midnight Sun was announced and I love Billy Burke. Please let me know if you have any particular thoughts on reading or not reading Twilight crossover (there won't be any vampires, I'll just take the characters and use them in a plot that's pretty much 100% Revolution - which could work well 'cause I basically hate introducing new characters in fics)

- BASS -

After risking his life, and that of Charlie and Connor, Bass had sworn he'd never return to New Vegas. But here they were – him, Miles, Charlie and Rachel like a shit version of the Three Musketeers trying to shake the Patriots off their tail and he was returning to the scene of the crime, just like the killer he was.

One voice keeping people in line is what the population needed again. Texas had Blanchard – God knows the fat fool didn't wanna be back in charge, he most likely just wanted to bury himself in booze and women's tits until his heart couldn't pump more oxygen round his obese body. California had Affleck – sure she was even more of a bitch than Kelly ever hoped to be, but it was some form of government. The rest of the country, save from a small part of Georgia that Texas had reclaimed was plunged in the Middle Ages once more. After the racket between the Rangers and the Patriots, the Plains Nations were even more unsettled than ever before. War clans kept spawning left and right, old Militia soldiers coming together and using the training Bass and Miles gave them to their own benefit. The unrest nearly rivalled that of the first few years after the Blackout. They'd best keep their wits about them and really move with purpose, but all Bass wanted to do was hold Charlie close and hide in a tent while death rained all around them.

Reaching the familiar landscape of the white peaks of the tents, Bass felt the pit in his stomach tighten. He'd suggested they stop by the place for easy money, Miles' general pleasant demeanor and wide range of blank stares made him the perfect horse to bet on in a hand of poker. And Bass could convince whoever was running things now to let him in on a couple of fights. Sure they'd most likely know who he was, but he was counting on it. It was a risk they were all willing to take if it meant cashing in on the Monroe name and making big bucks, if Miles wasn't so shit at putting on a show, that guy was too damn efficient, Bass would have insisted he also did a couple of fights. Even Rachel backed his play saying she could try and pickpocket while the crowd was riled up. He hadn't expected that but she was always full of surprises so he didn't question his luck on that one. Charlie on the other hand had been awfully quiet through all of that, the memory of Gould (un)dressing her as a harlot and tying her to the bed didn't escape him. Sometimes he'd still get images flashing in his head of her tits pushed up to her chin in that black corset number. The fact that she'd planned the whole saving his life thing wearing only that just made her even more badass in his book.


Miles eyed the collection of tents and caravans of the former travelling circus with his usual sour frown. The name suited this place, it rung of a sinful lust for excess, of long nights of pleasure and bad decisions. Definitely not his kind of place – too loud, too in-your-face, too much. People eyed them curiously, men sized Rachel and Charlie up and down, it was enough to drive him nuts and he already found himself reaching for his flask.

Sure Bass had a solid plan, one that Rachel endorsed to his utter surprise, but it was a risky one and he sure as heck had a hard time getting behind it. There were a million things that could go wrong and he'd already started listing and filing them away in his brain, finding contingencies.


It was Bass and Charlie's first look at the place after their fateful exit and after Duncan had unceremoniously dropped Gould and they split with his diamonds and her men. If she had to put her finger on it, it had been Charlie's first time realizing she felt anything for Monroe that went beyond respect for his fighting abilities. She smiled to herself as she remembered her split decision in pulling a gun on Duncan right when her men pulled theirs on him. It was the moment she knew she valued his life, and wanted him to stay in hers. She also remembered the pangs of jealousy as Bass turned on the charm and alluded to their shared history. Which was of course what led to her having revenge sex with his kid, an incredibly smart decision strategically speaking. Because it got him both frustrated and thinking of her as something beyond Miles' niece. She looked up at him and read in his eyes that similar thoughts flashed through his head and he grinned, pulling her close.


Rachel always tensed up when she saw Monroe show any kind of physical affection towards Charlie. She couldn't help it, even knowing that it was what her daughter wanted. It was just an impossible thought to banish. She knew that Charlie had also slept with Bass' son, Connor, but what Charlie didn't know was that Rachel had also slept with Bass. And this little game of musical chairs was something that weighed on Rachel's consciousness daily. She knew that airing that dirty laundry wouldn't do anyone any good, but she also couldn't help herself.

To think of Charlie with Monroe and his kid in this place that reeked of booze and sex; women in skimpy Victoria's secret lingerie from decades ago, their faces painted with ancient make up products, her stomach just churned.

She took Miles' hand; he looked so disinterested in the whole scene, a far cry from his ideal Spartan lifestyle. Monroe on the other hand, he must have been right at home in this life of excess. She could just imagine him, wallowing in self-pity, drinking himself to oblivion as he thought of the empire he lost. Now he seemed a different man, every time he orbited close to Miles he changed, but maybe he didn't need Miles, he just needed a Matheson, any Matheson to ground him. He'd also always looked up to Ben, that much had been clear especially those first days after she'd been served up on a plate in Philly when he kept asking where he was as if she were some second-rate housewife with half a brain and only Ben could solve Monroe's problems with power. Whatever, they were all in the same team now. And that was team Charlie.


Just like in all his dealings, Bass was a bit of a blunt instrument. The plan he devised was simple and streamlined. It had them sticking around this hippie dippie shithole for at least a week and the whole thing was so much of a security risk that it made Miles' ears burn. Getting the lay of the land before putting it in motion was crucial, so the group just followed the crowd that fed into the main tent. Judging by the riled up group that congregated in front and around the structure, a fight would be starting soon and bookies were collecting bets at the entrance.

The massive guy at the door really didn't want to let them in without paying, but it was the combined efforts of Charlie and Rachel sweet-talking him into letting them through that made him budge. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but Bass had an amused smirk plastered on his face as Charlie pushed her tits up and lowered her lashes at the guy. Miles wanted to smack Bass square on the head for being okay with this, but Bass was also a manwhore and had used his looks and southern charm bullshit to get out of some deep and nasty crap before. So it was to be expected that he didn't blush, but rather enjoyed it when Charlie did the same.

They were probably the last to be let in – the place was packed and while Miles could barely see past the sea of heads all the way to the middle of the makeshift fighting ring. One quick glance at Charlie who'd crossed her arms and rolled her eyes and he realized she didn't have any kind of view. But then the MC came on and she knitted her brows together focusing on his booming voice.

"Ladies and gents, all the way from Mexico… Give it up for Diamondback's three-time reigning champion… Connor Monroe!"