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Convincing Ben to let him take Charlie out on a scouting trip was easy enough. Ben was kind of oblivious. Convincing Miles was a bit more difficult, but a mention of Bobby and the abandoned house and two other girls and her restlessness, along with absolutely no reminder that she was technically an adult now (he wasn't an idiot), did the trick. He avoided Rachel like the plague. Let Ben and Miles tell her.
The fact that he had completely good intentions in keeping her away from Bobby-the-idiot (who probably was an angel compared to him and Miles at his age, but he was never admitting that) gave his arguments the weight of virtue, even to himself. The fact that he was, really, older than her father, and she was, surely, over her crush on him by now, cemented that. She'd called him "old," after all.
He had, in no way, implied that she'd do far better to look toward someone with more experience than Bobby to show her just what bodies were capable of doing together. Really.
...He was so going to the special hell.
By the time he cleared the way and grabbed the promised bottle of tequila and the things they'd need for the caves themselves, he was mostly sober again and that one thought just echoed. Special hell. Miles' look that threatened slow disembowelment should anything untoward happen to his niece had the back of Bass's neck itching as he moved to the gates to meet her. (He did not take any glee in telling Bobby he'd be short one party on his house exploring trip--that likely wouldn't happen at all now that Bass had told Miles the plan. No glee at all).
He was leaning against the gate, waiting for her, knife and sword at his hip, rifle slung over his shoulder, but straightened when she arrived, flashing her a smile as he caught the pack. "You sure you got everything?"
The fact that he had completely good intentions in keeping her away from Bobby-the-idiot (who probably was an angel compared to him and Miles at his age, but he was never admitting that) gave his arguments the weight of virtue, even to himself. The fact that he was, really, older than her father, and she was, surely, over her crush on him by now, cemented that. She'd called him "old," after all.
He had, in no way, implied that she'd do far better to look toward someone with more experience than Bobby to show her just what bodies were capable of doing together. Really.
...He was so going to the special hell.
By the time he cleared the way and grabbed the promised bottle of tequila and the things they'd need for the caves themselves, he was mostly sober again and that one thought just echoed. Special hell. Miles' look that threatened slow disembowelment should anything untoward happen to his niece had the back of Bass's neck itching as he moved to the gates to meet her. (He did not take any glee in telling Bobby he'd be short one party on his house exploring trip--that likely wouldn't happen at all now that Bass had told Miles the plan. No glee at all).
He was leaning against the gate, waiting for her, knife and sword at his hip, rifle slung over his shoulder, but straightened when she arrived, flashing her a smile as he caught the pack. "You sure you got everything?"
