Work Text:
The camp was abuzz with the gentle kind of life that always seemed so natural to it. It wasn’t always like this. Often during the day, with a good half of the gang out on jobs or errands, the camp would feel dead, empty except for a few doing chores or resting. But in the evening was when the camp truly came alive. The music from Dutch’s gramophone, the strum of Javier’s guitar, or even Uncle’s occasional banjo twiddling, painted a background for the chatter and games that came when most had returned to camp for supper. It wasn’t always a rowdy celebration like you wished it could be, but it always felt so much better with everyone near.
“Hey,” A deep voice comes from above you with a small nudge of something at your shoulder. You turn from the fire to see Charles standing next to the log you’re seated at, holding out a bowl of stew. A quick look around shows everyone that had been sat around the fire with you had gotten up for food and had yet to return.
“You fall asleep with your eyes open?” He asks with a teasing smile. “I called your name a couple times.”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, accepting the bowl gladly. “Just thinkin’ is all.”
He sits down next to you, already beginning to eat from is own bowl, and pulls a worried face. “You should be careful doing that. You know y-“
“Oh stop,” You shove him hard, nearly causing him to fall over and spill his bowl. You have no time to worry if you might’ve gone too far because he’s quickly righting himself and laughing gently. His laugh is such a simple sound, so deep and sweet, yet so rare sometimes. And it is simply infectious.
You giggle, shaking your head and turning back to your bowl of dark meat and broth. “Why d’you tease me so much, huh? And no one else ‘round here?”
“‘Cause you’re fun to tease.”
The words don’t quite catch you off guard so much as his tone. It’s a quick but subtle change from the teasing voice he had just a second ago. You look towards him and catch his gaze looking right back. Maybe it’s the firelight, but there’s a glimmer in his soft eyes that holds you, fixed. Or maybe its the smile along with it. There’s a subtext you’re missing here for sure. Something that you can’t place. But he turns away before you can continue speculating about what that look may or may not mean.
“Don’t know if I ever heard you say so many words at one time before.” You stir your still too hot stew around, but it seems Charles has no problem with its temperature as he chows down and only offers a ‘hmm’ with a full mouth.
“Oh so now you’re quiet, huh?”
“Mmhm.”
“That’s what I thought.” You shake your head and bring a bite up to your mouth, blowing on it before finally tasting the fruits of the camp's labor. “Thank you, Mr. Smith. For the food. Both the bowl and the meat in it.”
He nods his head. “It’s no problem.”
“That’s good to hear considering you’re the only one ‘round here who knows how to hunt worth a damn.”
“Hosea hunts. Arthur too.”
“Well, you’re at least the only one willin’ to actually do it, I suppose.”
That gets another small laugh out of him. “Yeah, that sounds right.”
You both fall into silence eating, finishing your meals and listening to the distant play of one of Dutch’s opera records. But you’re more focused on the sound of the crackling fire and the chirping crickets. It’s rare you two get to share the fire like this, without the noise of the others. But Charles surprises you by piping up once again.
“You don’t gotta call me that by the way.”
“Huh?”
“Mr. Smith. Everyone ‘round here just calls me Charles.”
“Oh.” You glance over to find him looking at you just for a second, before you're both turning your gazes down shyly. “Well, why would I wanna call you what everyone else calls you?”
You feel him turn back to you promptly, then huff out a small laugh. “Yeah, I s’pose.” He shakes his head. “Still… wish you’d call me somethin’ else.”
“Okay then,” you say sitting up, suddenly feeling more confident. “Okay, how about…. Charlie?”
He shakes his head again. “Naw. Never really liked that.”
“Okay then… uh Chuck?”
“Yeah, definitely not.”
“Oh man… uh…” You make a show of tilting your head and holding your chin. “Smithy?”
“Nope.”
“Smithereens?”
“That’s just ridiculous.” He laughs.
You continue your show of hemming and hawwing. “Now let's see… I don’t know if there are too many left. Charlos?”
“I think you made that one up.”
“Maybe. Now uh…”
“How much longer you gonna do this?” You’re afraid that maybe you’ve annoyed him but a look at his smile says he might just be enjoying this as much as you. You smile and go right back to your little game.
“Now my daddy had a friend with a silly name… said his real name was Charley but everyone called him… now, what was it?”
“This oughta be good.”
You hunch over, closing your eyes and covering your mouth, feigning more concentration than you’re truly using. But you are thinking hard, back to your encounter with the man with the silly mustache and even sillier name when you were a just a little girl.
“His name-“ You sit back up in success. “Chaz! I should definitely call you Chaz, that’s a good one.”
“Now you definitely made that one up.”
You shake your head, explaining quickly. “Naw, I knew him. His name was Chaz. Now, I never heard a name like that in all my life til him and I never have again, but I’m thinkin’ maybe I can bring it back. What do you think?”
“I'm thinkin’… you’ve got cabin fever sittin’ in camp all day and that you maybe need to get out more.”
“Alright… yeah, it don’t suit you anyway.”
He shakes his head and chuckles, still amused. “No, it doesn’t.”
You sit for a moment looking at him in the firelight. You’ve got one left on your mind, “How about-“
He waves his hand out, shaking his head more. “I think you’re done.”
“How about I just call you darlin’?”
That gets his attention, and he looks at you. He smiles and maybe its the firelight again, but there just might be a little blush in his cheeks. And that little glimmer in his eye is back. “I think I can work with that.”