Revised Nov, 18, 2010 with the help of Seducing Reason. (without, this wouldn't have been edited)

'Not more then a few minutes after we stepped out of Underworld I could tell she wasn't the sweet thing she pretended to be.'

Her hips swayed in front of him, no doubt knowing the effect she was garnering from the Ghoul. With the arousal she caused, anger came with it just as strong. She had armor with her, so why did she feel she needed to be in those shorts and that fucking shirt? This may have been a small game to her, but it was going to become a big problem for him. He couldn't help but follow her backside with his eyes. You could only ignore your natural instinct when you weren't reminded constantly of them. Yes, he had fucked some ghoul women in Underworld. Greta being one of them, and the memory made him disgusted. Even as a Ghoul he couldn't stand fucking his own kind . . .

He couldn't remember the last time something that fine with skin came crawling around the 9th Circle. A little Vaultie, cleaner and smoother then even the regular smoothskins the Ghouls craved. The way her chin held up high and her posture stayed straight even as she walked. He immediately took a dislike towards her, she didn't even look his way until Azruhkal threatened a drunk, popping Charon's name into their conversation to add further fear. Only then did she begin a series of carefully acted questions concerning him and his contract.

Her overly wide smile caught the attention of every ghoul in the bar, undressing her in their minds, maybe even fucking her. 'Probably fucking her . . . I know I was.'

She knew it too. 'That's what makes her so fucking infuriating.' Looking back at him with a fake childish look as they traveled through the wastes. 'Oh if only I could wipe that look off her face. Fuck it off her face . . . ' He felt himself dabbling into dangerous thoughts. Quickly he turned to the wasteland, finding something, anything to turn his train of thought.

'If she would just stop moving like that . . .'

He watched the rocky cliff to their right, still seeing her in his peripherals. Her body had stopped it's provocative stride. Whatever her reasons were, whether she was tired or just bored, he let out a inaudible sigh of relief. In this state he barely caught himself from falling into the bitch as she stopped without a word. Her fingers going to that contraption on her wrist. For all he knew she was smiling in triumph from his near blunder. Knowing she had made him clumsy with her deliberate actions.

He grumbled inaudible phrases as she turned to Galaxy News radio. His eyes ran over the device, he couldn't help but be impressed that some of the Pre-War technology was still around, and she, the bitch, had it, of all people. From the Vault no doubt. Music came out loudly and they both recoiled, she turned it down quickly to a nice level. Butcher Pete jarred the wasteland.

He's Hackin'! and Wackin'! and Smackin'!

'Ironic . . .' Charon tuned the words out, as he began to follow her again. Her head bounced to the side casually as the song hummed. It had been 15 minutes since they had left his last boss, crumbled on the floor with his head missing, and instead of saying a word to him she was playing the goddamn radio.

'Bitch . . .' His mind went sour after that and he managed to keep his indulgent thoughts at bay. Relying on faded sounds of the music and the red distant land in front of them.

They traveled into the night, only being bothered by a few radscorpions until now, all of which she happily let him take care of. He was fine with that, even though his opinions of her were still low, he enjoyed this much better then being cooped up in the 9th Circle. Those days blended together too easily for Charon's liking. Standing in that same damn spot, at the beck and call of that narcissistic ghoul.

'Killing daily . . .' That sounded good. That sounded real good.

Now he was crouching down to the ground as she was, sneaking their way past a camp of Super Mutants. There were probably more but he could tell she didn't want to stay and find out. Despite her coarse attitude she hadn't yet shown him any true endurance, or any killing ability for that measure. She was slow while they traveled and quick to evade danger.

'No wonder she purchased the contract . . .' He grunted, despite feeling a bit better about who had the upper hand between the two. 'Weak little Vaultie pretending to be a badass.' The idea made Charon's lips lift in something that could be called a smile.

Deeper into D.C. they sneaked, and the place was crawling with Frankensteins. There were two out in the open near the Metro Station. By the way her eyes were darting around between the Mutants and the Metro he knew that was her goal. To hide like a coward in the Metro, with weak feral ghouls. He kept himself hidden, a foot from her ready and able to act if necessary. She didn't acknowledge him except for the wrinkling of her nose.

'You don't smell too good yourself . . .' Everything about her insulted him, he determined, his eyes narrowing in a deadly glare. Not that she could see it in the dark even if she had been paying attention. Her lack of action was making him itchy, he began to reach behind him for the shotgun on his back. Gripping it and bringing it around in front of him in a fluid manner. Her head whipped to the side, staring at what she thought was his face.

"Don't do anything stupid," she whispered in a condescending tone and turned back to the green giants. He obeyed her, almost hoping the stupid plan she had failed, just to see her in defeat. They stayed there a few more agonizing minutes when he saw her begin to move against the crumbling divider, he prepared himself to follow. She only gave him a small indication that she was ready, a little glance, and then she was off. Going as fast as she could while crouching down, he followed her more swiftly keeping his barrel pointed and at the ready in case a Mutant saw them. Saw them they did.

A large bellowing noise sounded in the deserted area. A mutant caught the shape of Charon before he had time to get into proper cover, behind the 'bitch'.

Despite being seen he followed the Vaultie down the cement steps and in front of the chain gate. Her angry face was what greeted him. From her Pipboy he saw she could tell that they were slowing as they approached the two. A look of fear flashed on her face for an instant before she turned to him, furious.

Her fists balled and she shook, "This is all your fault," she whispered harshly, pulled out her dainty 10mm pistol from the waistband of her shorts like it was her last lifeline.

'No wonder she does't want to shoot at anything. Only a Bloatfly could be brought down by that weapon.' With that thought he quickly cocked his shotgun and eased his way up the steps, ready and willing to take a limb to protect her. He heard one of the two Frankensteins to his right. With one glance back at the Vault girl, who looked awkward holding that gun of hers, he sprung out in front of the super mutant and began firing into it's chest.

The sounds that came from the mutant were quite satisfactory. Noises of intense pain as one more shot from his barrel tore one of it's arms clean off. Charon took minimal damage to his right arm. A few bullets grazed his 'skin', but the pain was beginning to dull as his attention was turned to the remaining super mutant.

'And I thought I was ugly . . .' The mutant's lips were pulled back and it's yellow teeth ground together in a stupefied fury. The big hulking mass charged, a super sledge gripped in it's green fists.

"Heewmon!" Its voice was animalistic. It was slower than he expected, giving Charon perfect time to aim the shot right at it's head. He dropped to one knee and pulled the trigger. The shot crippled the super mutants head and it stopped, holding it's head a moment and despite the disadvantage it resumed it's charge.

Another shot rang out and the head of the Frankenstein went flying, landed and rolled to the side of a guard rail, that toothy grin still in place and even uglier than when it was attached.

Blood coated him as he made his way back to the Metro station entrance, and she wasn't there. He grumbled and trudged down the steps. The gate was ajar. 'Least she left the door open,' was all he could think as he let himself in, immediately being engulfed in a dark green glow. Some lights flickered near the ticket booth catching his attention. He saw a silhouette sitting in the booth. Not moving.

His boots crunched above the broken glass and the random debris that littered the tile floor. He approached the booth and stepped into the opening. His frame taking up the light that would normally be illuminating her face. It wasn't until the sound of his dripping blood hit the floor she acknowledged him. He stood there, wanting her to see what he saw, the coward she was for sitting there, while he bled.

"Serves you right for blowing our cover." She said those words as her eyes narrowed. Maybe she was trying to see where he was hurt. 'Fat chance.'

The Ghoul hid his fury and began to step further into the booth with her, slowly. Getting closer until he was a foot from her. She refused to look up at him, her eyes kept to her knees.

"If you need to be taught the proper ways of surviving in this wasteland, I can be of service . . . You know that." His tone was one of dismal.

"I don't need to be taught shit!" She spat her words and stood abruptly. "Stand aside, Ghoul."

He pushed back against the wall of the booth as she squirmed past him. Once free of the confined space she let out a squeal of frustration and stomped down to the departure platform, leaving Charon to trail after her.