Disclaimer: Don't own Fallout 3. There :P

Heart to Heart

"You're stupid,"

"Your face is stupid,"

"Oh wow, what a witty comeback," Hope mumbled back, continuing her awkward climb up the rocky slop, Butch following close behind.

The two had been travelling across the hot and humid wastes for close to six hours now, with few stops in between. Their latest break had been cut very short when getting stumbled upon by Raiders who'd obviously thought they were easy prey. They'd learnt the hard way that they were NOT easy prey! Too bad they didn't live to spread the word to other Raiders.

She slipped on a loose rock and fell flat against the steep rocky surface, grazing her face and hands as she landed. Butch had been climbing rather close behind her, so when she fell, he pretty much tripped over on top of her. He landed on top of her ungracefully, forcing the air out of the girl and causing her to wince out in pain afterwards. Damn he was heavy! The Tunnel Snake grumbled as he pushed himself back up, not bothering to help his travelling companion as she slowly got up herself.

"Watch where you're going will ya?" he said as he patted himself down, getting rid of what dirt and dust he could off of his Tunnel Snake jacket and the armour she had provided. Not that he needed it, he was tough! But Hope had made such a fuss before they left Rivet City that he'd put it on just to shut her up. She glared at him from over her shoulder, continuing her climb with better and more careful footing. Why'd Butch have to be such an arse?

"If you didn't stay so close it wouldn't be such a problem," she pointed out. Butch gave an angry frown, looking almost insulted. He then teased like he always did when Hope mentioned just how close he was. It was always fun to tease her, he found.

"What? Don't ya like my aftershave?"

Hope didn't answer, like she never did. Mostly because she was too busy trying to get up this slop without hurting herself again, but also... because she didn't really want to answer; because she did like it actually. Not because it smelt nice or anything, it was too strong for her liking, but because... well, it was Butch's smell. He'd been wearing it since they were teens and back then she wouldn't even have to look around to know he was in the room with that smell lingering about. The smell was Butch's smell and it was familiar and, dare say, comforting.

But there was no way in hell that she was going to admit that to him! But she didn't want to have to lie either, just in case there was even a slim chance he'd actually care what he smelt like to her and stop wearing it! So, Hope chose to say nothing at all.

They finally reached the top of the slop and it was a huge relief. More so when seeing a small building a short distance away. It looked like a perfect spot to rest for now. Hope stood on the top of the slop and offered her hand to help Butch up but he of course ignored the offer and got up himself. He gave a sigh of relief when he saw the small building too.

"Please tell me we're taking a rest there," he said, eyeing the building for another few seconds before shifting his tired gaze to the other former vault dweller. She gave a big and happy grin.

"Yep! Fancy a race there? " she said and began jogging a little down the hill; what a relief that the slop turned into a hill on the other side.

Butch had hoped that she wasn't serious; he was so tired already! But he wasn't about to turn down a challenge, especially from Hope! And there was no way he was going to lose either! He gave a smirk and began running down the hill along side of her. The two were close to tripping a few times, due to their increasing speed down the hill. They didn't exactly play fair either, Hope pushing him to the side once to try and get him off balance and fall. He indeed lost his balance, he stumbling a little, but he didn't fall down. Instead her attempt to slow him down only enticed him to play dirty back. Once he caught up to her Butch grabbed hold of a fist full of short curly brown hair and tugged, hard!

She gave a high pitched pained yelp as she was tugged back and fell down with a thud, dust and dirt puffing up around her. Butch ran past her and managed to reach the ruined but still standing building's door. She angrily got up and stormed over, looking less than impressed. Didn't bother Butch though, it wasn't like she didn't try something dirty to win too.

"That was harsh," she said in an angry tone. Butch just shrugged, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the building and looking triumphant. It irritated her to no end!

"So what? You started it first," he pointed out.

"I didn't pull on your hair though! That hurt!" Hope whined, her hand going back and rubbing the back of her head, around the area that he had yanked. Butch glared at her.

"Damn good thing you didn't, too," he said in a threatening tone, or a tone he thought was threatening. However such a tone from him didn't work on her. Hope still glared angrily at him, as if expecting and wanting an apology from him. Well, the girl could want all she wanted, 'cause she wasn't getting one!

Butch placed his hand on the door handle, but before he could turn it and open the door she stopped him suddenly, her hand shooting over and grabbing his own. He was about to loudly object, but she merely raised her other hand, finger extended and placed it over her lips; gesturing for him to shush! It looked like she heard something suspicious; damn the girl had good hearing! He hadn't heard a thing! Butch did as he was told anyway (a rarity), seeing as whenever she got serious like this, there was normally a very good reason for it.

A bullet shot through the wooden door and narrowly missing their faces was enough of a good reason!

The two separated and ran in opposite directions to find cover. Butch found it in the form of the ruined remains of a car and Hope found it behind some big rocks. The greaser cursed to himself as he drew his gun and made sure it was loaded. Fuck, fuck, fuck! More fucking Raiders! Butch couldn't believe it. Was it too much to ask for just a few fucking hours of rest? Bullets began to fly over head, the Raiders obviously coming out of the building to play. Well if they wanted to play, he'd play! No one messes with the Butch-man!

He peeked over the ruined car when the bullets ceased for a second, a sure sign that the Raiders were reloading and he saw two out in the open and one in the doorway. The one focused on him was reloading, the other two shooting over to where Hope was. Butch sat up and aimed for the guy reloading, but swiftly and almost instinctively changed his aim when seeing one of the others try to sneak around his partner's cover. He got the Raider in the arm a few times, which of course caused him to yell out in agony. This, of course, made Hope very aware of where the fucker was and how close he was to her. Last thing the bastard saw was her shooting him square between the eyes. Butch had to smirk.

That'a girl.

One down, two to go, though one was probably going to be a right pain in the arse. While her fellow Raiders were stupid enough to get out in the open where Hope and Butch could shoot them from either side, the bitch-Raider was staying inside, shooting from the doorway. The building acted as cover and she could see where both of them were. Hope peeked around the boulder and managed to witness Butch taking care of the other Raider who'd ran out to greet them. It was just bitch-Raider left. She was all alone and-

Hope heard something land by her feet and looked down quickly to see a frag grenade rolling between them.

The bitch had frags... Fuck!

For that split second it took her to realise there was a frag grenade between her legs, her body had kicked into instinct and it had instinctively ran as fast as it could away from the impending boom. However running away from the boom meant running out into the open. So it was no surprise that she was getting shot at. And then of course the frag went off and she was still unfortunately close enough to get thrown a short distance by the blast. And then there was pain. Crap, had the blast got her that bad? Had she hit her head? Had she been shot? She must have been in a bad way, because all of a sudden, it was getting very hard to stay awake. In fact, last thing she heard was the sound of that bitch-Raider letting out a dying scream and the last thing she saw was Butch's boots quickly approaching and kicking sand and dust in her face.

Even when she was blacking out he couldn't help but be an utter pain to her. What a jerk...

To say that Butch had panicked when Hope went down was an understatement. When he saw her crash down to the ground and not get up again, his body had frozen in shock and disbelief. He only reacted again when the Raider began shooting him, she obviously thinking the same; that Hope was a goner! He managed to shoot her in the shoulder and then the head, his aim better the second time. With her now dead, he rushed over to Hope.

She wasn't moving, at all, even when he began shaking her, which made his blood run cold. No, no, no, not again! His mind ran back to back in the vault, when the Radroaches got in when the Doc and Hope managed to get out. People had gotten hurt, people had even died. Paul had died... it had hit Butch rather hard, seeing as Paul was a friend and his death had pretty much ended the Tunnel Snake gang. Wally had turned into a dick after Paul's death and it wasn't really a gang with only one person. He let Freddie become a Snake, but it still wasn't the same. Despite the jacket, Freddie was never quite Tunnel Snake material. So why Hope made the cut (even without a jacket) and Freddie didn't was beyond Butch, but something just clicked, you know? It probably didn't hurt that she saved his mum. That was bound to get him soft on her. Not that he was soft, no; he just wanted a gang again. And now, he was at risk of losing that again. He didn't want to lose another Tunnel Snake; lose another friend.

When shaking didn't work, Butch went to her left wrist to check her Pip-Boy; it was bound to tell him what kind of shape she was in! However, the damn thing must have been broken, since the screen kept flashing on and off and when it was on, it was unreadable. Damn it! What was he going to do now? Butch thought hard back to when he was at school in the vault. Back to when they were doing science and first aid and other stuff that was rather boring. He remembered how to check for a pulse and so checked for hers, hoping that he was doing it right. He felt for her pulse and he was relieved to feel that there really was one.

She wasn't dead.

The Tunnel Snake let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. So she was alive, that was a start, but then why did she black out? People didn't black out for no reason, not unless they were pussies or something. And Hope had proved lots of times now that she weren't no pussy. The greaser decided he had to check if she was injured and grabbed her shoulder and side, about to move her onto her back. He instantly stopped and pulled his hand away from her shoulder, frowning when seeing what he had felt.

Blood. Shit, she must have been shot!

He began to panic again, not really knowing what to do now that he knew that she really was hurt. Butch tried to calm down and think about what to do, though thinking up solutions to problems had never been his strong point. Well, the best thing was probably to get out of the open wastes. Butch continued his earlier attempt at rolling her over onto her back, though took her backpack off first to make it easier, and then wrapped his arms around her shoulders and under her legs. After a short count and steadying himself he grunted loudly as he stood and lifted Hope into his arms. Damn she was heavier than she looked! It was probably the armour she was wearing. They fucking lie when they say its light weight armour!

Butch carefully walked over to the building, stepping over the Raiders' corpses and very nearly tripping when having to step over the woman Raider's corpse; damn bitch was blocking the door way. Thankfully the inside looked pretty decent, despite Raiders having been hiding out inside. Either they hadn't been there long, or they'd been very tidy and very anti-torturing and anti-drug using Raiders. Lucky enough, an old couch was in the room so Butch didn't have to go any further while carrying Hope. It was a good thing too, she was getting pretty heavy.

He placed her down as carefully as he could, though it still wasn't all that gentle. He couldn't help it; he had been in a bit of a rush to get her onto the couch and out of his arms. With her plopped down on the couch, Butch went over to close the door, though bitch-Raider was doing a very good impression of a door stopper. So, Butch kicked her corpse out to join the other two just laying there. Hopefully a wondering animal could come along and eat them before they caught anyone's attention.

Once getting everything they needed inside, like backpacks and other supplies they had been carrying, Butch closed and then barricaded the door just in case someone came across them. He didn't know exactly what he was going to be doing, having no real medical experience, but knew that Hope was going to be his main focus for a little while. He couldn't afford for someone or something to barge in while his back was turned.

He grabbed a discarded chair and placed it by the couch, close to Hope's upper body. Butch guessed that he should try and take a better look at the wound on her left shoulder. There was one problem though; her clothes and armour. If this was anyone else, he probably wouldn't really have thought twice about removing clothes for this sort of reason. But this was Hope, Hope from the vault, the same Hope that had given him a black eye when he'd pinched her arse that one time back when they were about fourteen... he'd hate to imagine how she'd react if she woke up and caught him stripping her.

But it was for medical reasons! Medical! Maybe life and death for all he knew! That was the only reason he was doing this! It had nothing to do with the fact that a small part of him was sort of... interested to see what exactly she was hiding underneath her clothes. Jump suits didn't exactly do anything for anyone's figure. But again, it had nothing to do with that! He was stripping her so he could treat her. With the decision made he let out a long shaky sigh and reached his hand over for one of the straps holding her leather armour together. Time to get stripping.

Hours had passed since Hope had passed out from her injury. Thankfully, she wasn't as hurt as Butch had feared. After stripping her of her armour and shirt, leaving her only in a vest, he had found that her bloody shoulder wasn't due to getting shot, but by being grazed by the bullet instead. Honestly, she was rather lucky; lucky that she hadn't been properly shot since Butch wouldn't have known what to do! He cleaned her shoulder as best he could with what little first aid he knew and little supplies they had. He used clean water they'd been saving for drinking to clean her and gave her a stimpak to help the healing process. He'd then used whatever clean looking material they had to make a makeshift bandage. Over all, considering his lack of knowledge, he thought he'd done pretty well.

Still, didn't answer why she wasn't waking up.

Right now he was still sat on the chair next to her, his flask in hand and looking a little worn and tired. Honestly he wanted nothing more but to sleep, but he wouldn't let himself. Damn it he was... worried. His eyes stared down at Hope and glared a little, feeling a strange mix of irritation and concern. He just wanted her to wake up already! Why'd she have to black out? A grazed shoulder was nothing to pass out over. Maybe she hit her head... That had to be it. Maybe he should check for bumps or something. Though it seemed a little late now, she'd been out for nearly seven hours.

The sun had long since set, and with it the warmth it had provided. Butch had pulled up an old barrel that had been left in the room (possibly from past travellers who'd sort out shelter) and after an hour of struggling had managed to get a fire going to keep them warm. It provided some light too, though for the most part his Pip-Boy is what gave them the most light.

Butch was finding it harder and harder to stay awake, his eyelids feeling so heavy. He tried his hardest to stay awake though, wanting to be awake when Hope woke up. Yeah, when, not if. There was no ifs! Hope was defiantly going to wake up. She had to. But still, he was so tired...

Just as Butch was dozing off where he sat, a chattering could be heard. It startled Butch for a second, it instantly causing him to be alert and awake again, and then he realised that it was coming from Hope. The girl was finally awake, her blue eyes barely open, and her teeth chattering loudly. She was awake and obviously freezing.

"I'm cold," she whined. She'd been out for seven hours, causing him to worry like mad, and the first thing she did was whine! Well, at least it showed that she was alright. Butch took a swig from his flask before talking back to her, trying not to show just how relieved he was. Instead, trying to pretend that her blacking out had merely been an inconvenience.

"Yeah, I can tell," he said and allowed his gaze to drop down to her breasts, knowing full well that she'd follow his gaze and freak when she saw where he was looking. She followed, and she did freak, which only caused Butch to smirk. She raised her arm to hit him but then instantly stopped and gripped her injured shoulder with a pained hiss. That had hurt! What was with her shoulder?

Hope lay back again, groaning as she realised just how much her head hurt too and raised her hand to cradle her poor head. She then took a moment to look herself over and to observe the bandaging Butch had done. She had to admit, she was surprised but also impressed. He'd actually done a pretty good job, all things considered. She'd have to undo the bandages and see for herself the state of her shoulder at some point, she actually having medical experience, but she decided to do that later, probably when Butch was asleep. She didn't want to seem ungrateful for his efforts and care. Hope then muttered something she thought she'd never have to say to him:

"Thank you,"

Butch didn't say anything back and just shrugged in response, acting as if it wasn't that big of a deal. This whole thing was proving to be rather awkward and weird; they being so nice to each other and she thanking him. Really weird. To distract himself from the weirdness of it all he brought the flask up to his lips and continued to drink more of the harsh liquor inside. Hope eyed it and reached over to take it off of him and take a swig, feeling quite thirsty herself, but the Tunnel Snake merely swatted her hand away. Hope glared and pouted her bottom lip out but didn't do much else, too tired, too hurt and too cold to really do anything else. It wasn't long before her teeth started chattering again, the noise driving Butch nuts.

"That's annoying," Butch grumbled, leaning back in the chair and balancing on its two back legs. Hope wished she had more energy; it would have been so easy and funny just to push him and watch him and the chair fall backwards.

"I can't help it, I'm cold!" Hope barked, wrapping her good arm around herself.

She looked around to see if she could see either of their backpacks to fetch something to wear. When seeing hers resting against the wall of the room she moved her legs over the edge of the couch to get up. She stood... and then swiftly sat back down again, or rather fell back down. Butch had quickly stood up when seeing her fall back down, had even moved to grab her before realising just what that would look like. Didn't want the girl getting any stupid ideas or anything... or give himself any stupid ideas for that matter.

"Ok, standing up wasn't a good idea..." Hope whimpered, feeling very dizzy and sick all of a sudden. And her headache was really thumping now! She hoped so much that she didn't end up puking in front of Butch; yet another thing he could tease her about later.

"Yeah," Butch agreed, not really knowing what else to say. He watched as Hope laid herself back down on the worn couch but then he couldn't help but groan in annoyance when she began chattering her teeth again. Damn it, it wasn't that cold! Maybe Hope was a bit of a pussy after all.

Just to shut her up Butch went over to her backpack to get something for her to wear. But before he could open the bag Hope began objecting very loudly behind him, telling him not to go through her stuff. She sounded a little bit more aggressive and desperate than normal, even despite her weakened state.

"Don't go through my stuff! I didn't give you permission to go through my stuff! Butch, are you listening to me?"

"I'm a Tunnel Snake, I don't need permission,"

Despite Hope continuing to complain behind him Butch opened the bag up and began looking through it for anything that she could wear. Mostly it was full of guns, ammo, grenades, stimpaks and other essentials, though right down at the bottom there looked like there was something wearable. Butch reached down and grabbed it and stopped for a second. That felt strangely familiar. He pulled it out and his blue eyes went wide when seeing what it was in his hand.

His old Tunnel Snake jacket.

For a few seconds he stared at the worn jacket and then turned around and looked over to Hope. The injured girl was looking away, her head down and pouting angrily. Though she looked more than just angry, she looked... embarrassed. Butch looked back at his old jacket, utterly surprised that he was actually holding it. To be honest, he thought he'd never see it again, even when Hope came back. She hadn't been wearing it when she came back to the vault after all; once coming out of the vault himself he'd assumed she'd sold it for guns and ammo or something. In fact, it would have made sense to sell it. So... exactly why had she kept it?

The Tunnel Snake walked over, jacket still in hand and looking a little confused and unsure. Hope was still looking down, not wanting to make any eye contact with him. It was clear that neither of them knew what to say or do now. A part of Butch knew to just give her the jacket and leave well enough alone but he was tired and not thinking straight so he allowed his curiosity to get the better of him. Probably didn't help that he'd been drinking while waiting for her to wake up too.

"You kept this?" he asked the stupidly obvious question. Hope just frowned and her shoulders tensed as she moved further away in embarrassment, though hissed since the tensing had hurt her shoulder.

A silence followed after that for a minute or so and then Butch asked the next obvious question; a question Hope was dreading.

"Why?"

That simple question caused Hope so much grief that it was ridiculous. She was so torn on what to say or do in response. Should she just tell Butch that it was none of his business? It seemed a little harsh but it wouldn't be the first time she'd been harsh to him. But after everything he'd done so far, could she do that? But then again, if she didn't tell Butch to back off, it only left her the option of telling him the truth. Which, honestly, wasn't really an option. There was no way of knowing how Butch would react to it and Hope didn't want to risk driving Butch away. Not now... not when she need him- uhh, someone so much right now.

Hope tried to settle with a lie instead.

"... It's... one of the few things I have now that remind me of the vault. Remind me of back when things were simpler and happier. I miss it," she told him. It wasn't a complete lie; she did miss the vault, and the jacket was indeed one of the few things that reminded her of the place, among other things it reminded her of...

It was natural that she'd miss the vault once she was out; it had been her home for all of her life after all. It was where she had grown up and where her friends were. Well, former friends now. Being exiled by your best friend made it very hard to think of them fondly anymore. In fact, since then, Butch was the closest thing she had to a best friend. Her former bully was her best friend... she didn't know if that was impressive or depressing.

Butch sat down next to her on the couch, taking in what she'd said. Now that she had said that, Butch had to admit that it made a lot of sense. After all, she hadn't been given the choice to leave the vault like he had. No, she had pretty much been forced out. The first time when her old man left and the fucking insane Overseer pretty much screamed for her blood, and the second time when that bitch Amata kicked her out even when she saved the day and got her shit arse crazy dad to back down from the Overseer position! Butch still couldn't believe that Amata did that to Hope, after everything she had done! And people called him a jerk...

The two sat in silence for a while, the silence between them awkward and unnatural. They should have been bickering and teasing each other, possibly even throwing a discarded item or two and hoping to hit the other's hard head. This quiet talk time was completely foreign to them. However, despite how weird and surreal this all felt, Butch had to admit that it was... different to actually have a proper talk with Hope; to get to know her. For some reason he wanted her to talk more. Seriously, it had to be the alcohol.

"You really miss that place?" he asked, sounding surprised and disappointed. He couldn't really understand why she'd miss it; he couldn't wait to get out of there! But then the whole forcing thing probably made a difference. Hope shrugged her shoulders, or tried her best to without hurting her right one more.

"Yes and no... I miss the memories of it more than the actual place. Like... like the clinic Dad ran down there... I miss when I used to help Dad clean and tidy the clinic,"

Butch's eyebrows narrowed and he frowned deeply when Hope began to mention her father and the cushy and wonderful life they'd had together. If he was honest to himself, for most of his life he'd been jealous of her because of what she had with her dad; it was the main reason why he'd picked on her when they were kids and why it had continued as they got older. There had been... other reasons, but Butch had never really allowed himself to really think about those reasons. They were far too complicated and confusing; it was far easier just to deny it to others and himself. It was so much easier just accepting that he was a jerk.

Despite not really getting any verbal encouragement Hope found herself continuing to talk, as if now that she'd started she couldn't stop. Maybe it was due to her headache, she wasn't really thinking straight. Or maybe, honestly, she just wanted to let some things out. She hadn't really been able to talk to anyone for a while after all, there being no one to talk to. Still, this was Butch she was talking to; he wasn't exactly a good listener and probably wasn't appreciating this heart to heart crap. Although, much to her surprise, he hadn't stopped her so far...

"I miss my girly chats with Amata," she went on, giggling a little. "I miss teasing Christine over her crush on Freddie," even Butch had to give a chuckle to that. Yeah, that wasn't exactly a well kept secret. It had seemed like everyone BUT Freddie knew about her crush.

"I miss pissing Susie off. She was a bit of a bitch,"

"I miss the booze I used to steal off mum when she passed out," Butch suddenly said, seeming to join in and surprising Hope a little. She gave Butch a look, somehow it enough for him to realise she couldn't understand how he could miss alcohol when he still drunk it out of the vault! Butch laughed.

"Have you tasted the stuff in the bars out here? It's all weak watered down shit. Nothing compared to what we had in the vault!" he declared. Hope just shook her head as if disappointed but couldn't help but laugh. The list of things she missed continued, Butch adding in every now and again.

"I miss Old Lady Palmer's sweetrolls,"

"I miss smoking with Wally and Paul,"

"I miss the look on Susie's face whenever I did better than her at something,"

"Miss writing shit on the board," Butch said with a big amused grin on his face. That time when he wrote "Christine puts out" had been very amusing indeed. The look of sheer horror and embarrassment on her face, he so wished he could have taken a picture!

Hope laughed at that, knowing full well what Butch was talking about and he joined in with the laughter. For a while the two just sat there and laughed, remembering all those things and feeling strangely happier at the fond memories but also a little home sick. Once the laughter settled Butch brought his flask up to his lips but halted for a second. He looked as though he was considering something and then the next thing Hope knew he reached the flask out in her direction, offering her a drink. Hope knew she probably shouldn't, what with her head pounding and her stomach acting up and making her feel rather unwell, but she was thirsty. That and it was a rarity that Butch would make such a gesture. In fact the last time he was nice like this was when he gave her the jacket that had caused this entire conversation.

She took the flask and sipped some of the harsh liquor inside, coughing almost immediately afterwards due to how strong and vile it was. Just how did Butch drink this? And enjoy it? As she coughed and tried to get used to the horrid after taste Butch was laughing rather loudly next to her, amused by her reaction. She would have glared at him for laughing at her, however for some reason her mood had changed for the better and she found herself laughing a little herself in between coughing.

Once the laughter and coughing died down, silence once again followed and hung in the air. An awkward feeling began to sink in as the silence continued, Hope fidgeting with the flask she still held and Butch absentmindedly playing around with one of the zippers of the leather jacket he held. For ages neither of them moved nor spoke; neither really knowing what to do or say next.

"So that's why you've kept my jacket huh?" Butch said suddenly, deciding that an obvious statement was better than the silence between them.

Hope bit her lip and became suddenly tense and nervous. This was it; was she really going to go along with the whole "it's a reminder of the vault" thing or tell him another reason? The real reason. She knew it was probably best to go along with it, to end this whole thing and get their relationship back to normal; back to the bickering, fighting and trying to outdo the other. It was probably the best thing to do... so then why was there a little voice in her head calling her a coward?

She tried to convince herself that the voice was just part of her headache and that she seriously needed to end this conversation now and get some sleep before she outright went insane, but the voice kept calling her a coward for not taking this chance to actually tell Butch the truth. To actually take a chance into turning this relationship into something more like what she really wanted. To find out if there was even a small chance Butch may want the same thing... After all, he'd actually agreed to travel the wasteland with her. There had to be something there... right?

"... There's another reason," she blurted out before she could chicken out.

The instant she did she regretted it, the surprised and confused look on Butch's face causing her even more panic. No, no, no! Why'd she have to give in to that stupid voice? This was it; her impulse was just about to cost her the last person she had to hold on to. The last person she cared about, despite all that had happened between them in the past. The only person she had left, since her dad had died and her best friend had banished her. She hung her head down, defeated. There was no way out of this now though. She had no choice now other than to admit:

"It's because it's your jacket,"

If the silence before was awkward than the silence now was unbearable. Hope made a point not to look up at Butch's reaction, fearing what it would be, but the pure lack of one only made things worse. She had expected him to yell out in surprise, laugh at her, jump out of his spot on the couch or... something! The fact he did nothing crushed her even more. God... she really had ruined it hadn't she? She'd completely freaked him out to the point that he was probably in shock. Probably would end up being grossed out once he got over that... she wasn't the prettiest girl after all. Back in the vault Butch would often comment about her looks, or lack of. Comments such as she wouldn't be half bad if it wasn't for her face. Typical arsehole Butch. But despite that typical arsehole behaviour Hope had found herself liking him. A lot. But it was crystal clear by now that it was too much to ask that he'd feel somewhat the same. Hope wouldn't be surprised if he took the jacket back now...

Hope had been so deep in thought, so certain of her inevitable departure from an angered or uncomfortable Butch, that she hadn't realised how close he was until the jacket was put around her, over her shoulders. She jerked a little from the sudden fright and a gasp left her lips. Butch rolled his blue eyes and tut to himself, moving the leather jacket a little so it sat more correctly and comfortable around her.

"Relax! I'm just putting it around you. Or would ya rather be cold?" he said, his voice and tone exactly the same as if this whole thing hadn't happened. He wasn't acting freaked, disturbed or overly amused at her expense. He was just... Butch.

A smile began to form on Hope's lips.

With the jacket around her Butch let out a tired sigh and leaned right back into the couch, it complaining under his weight. Hope followed suit, leaning back also but was careful of her right shoulder. She kept his gaze to the side, unsure and still a little too embarrassed to look at him, but finally looked up when she heard the familiar strap of a match against a match box. Butch was lighting a cigarette. She frowned at first, but then let out a little giggle as she preached.

"Those are bad for you, you know. Only a stupid person would choose to smoke them,"

Her response was an annoyed look and he rolling his eyes; his normal response. She giggled again, making his groan but for some reason blush too. Butch chewed on the end of his cigarette, feeling that he should say something. Something nice maybe. But damn, he didn't know what to say! He frowned and tried to think of something, but then remembered that old saying from where "actions speak louder than words".

He reached his arm up and wrapped it around Hope's shoulder, careful not to aggravate her injury, and pulled her closer. Hope allowed him to, and allowed herself to end up resting her head against his shoulder. Her messy curly hair was tickling his cheek and chin a little. This felt so weird and surreal but... nice too. He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly in front of him. He then finally said something, though it wasn't so sweet.

"You're stupid," he said. He wondered if maybe that might change her mood to a more insulted, annoyed, angry one; one that was more familiar and he was used to. He half hoped it did, half hoped it didn't.

"Your face is stupid," she replied, without missing a beat. Though she didn't sound annoyed or angry. She actually sounded... happy. He looked down at her and was found to be right, she was happy, if that big smile was anything to go by.

Butch decided that even this "thing" happening here felt weird and surreal and made him feel unsure and confused; it was all worth it if he got to keep her happy. For some reason he'd just realised that having her happy made him happy. Butch found himself pulling her closer and smiling too.

"Wow what a witty comeback,"

First Fallout 3 story so please be gentle lol. If there's any spelling mistakes or anything, please let me know. Also I think I might have got one or two things wrong... like character names or something. Not sure, I tried not to make mistakes like that! Hope you've enjoyed! :D There just isn't enough Butch out there... XD