AN: Hiya guys! My name is Rocket, and this is my first fanfiction! :D Hope you guys enjoy it. I know there's a lot of Charon x Lone Wanderer stories all ready, but—I just love them. Gob's also eventually going to be with Nova—so don't mind the bit of Gob-bashing. Hahah. Please don't flame too badly.

There were a lot of things Ezra Cole planned on doing, she planned on becoming the next Overseer, she planned on beating Butch DeLoria to a bloody pulp, and she planned on a life that in a day fell through the cracks. It had been six months since she'd left the vault. It was strange really; you put all these plans and thoughts into something—just for life to tell you 'nope!' with a huge smile on its face. Her father had died protecting Project Purity from the Enclave, and she fulfilled daddy's work. What was there left to do, what was she supposed to be? Running a hand through her auburn, unladylike hair—she sighed.

As Megaton came into view, she glanced up at the large ghoul who had since become a sort of bodyguard. The former vault-dweller couldn't help but notice how she'd always seemed to attract the tougher guys. Not that they'd actually do anything with her. Jericho thought she was 'too innocent', which was strange. She always thought, or was lead to believe rather, that guys took enjoyment in corrupting naïve girls such as herself. It was neither here nor there though.

"What boss?"

The two words came out rather cold and callous, however unintentional the tone was. Charon wasn't the most talkative of her companions; she left that to Fawkes—who always seemed to humor her with his in depth conversations. Speaking of the giant mutant, he was more than hesitant to come into Megaton—fearing the worst. Sure he hoped for the best, but aside from Ezra saving him from that infernal vault—life taught him that the wasteland and its inhabitants were cruel by nature. Ezra bit her lip, what was she planning to say? She all ready briefed them about Jericho, and she'd told them about the deactivated bomb and the church… What really was there left to say?

"First round at Moriarty's is on me."

….Not that Ezra actually drank, but she knew Charon and Fawkes enjoyed liquor. Technically, Moriarty wasn't even at the saloon anymore—Since hearing about New Vegas he'd set off to 'greener pastures', and seeing as Gob's debt was paid off—he now was running the saloon. As Welder was speaking, Fawkes stood there with his arms crossed—attempting to make conversation with the robot. He was bewildered at why it wasn't answering his questions.

"C'mon big guy," The Lone wanderer urged with a smile, and the green behemoth quickly caught up with the gunblazing duo. A slew of apologies fell from his mouth and she merely shook her head with a laugh. Fawkes didn't need to explain himself, he liked talking to people—much like Ezra, she was a silver tongued gunslinger. She was talkative, highly educated and the only weapons she was actually decent with were handguns. Maybe an assault rifle but that was only when Charon decided to help her better her aim. Claiming that the smoothskin needed to focus, she couldn't help that her mind went a mile a minute. She blamed it on the caffeine of Nuka-Cola.

As the trio entered the town, Lucas came up to the former vault dweller before peering to her 'friends'. It was interesting company she kept, but she saved the town from blowing up—and she was rebuilding the wasteland. As someone who'd seen the good she had performed in this world, and heard about it through Galaxy News, he could only trust her judgment. He just truly hoped it wouldn't bit her in the ass, which with company like that? It was a distinct possibility.

"Hey Vaultie, you know the rules."

Lucas spoke with a smile before looking at her companions cautiously.

"We don't want any trouble, we're a peaceful town."

"Don't worry Mister Simms!" The petite girl cheered with a huge smile, "Charon may seem like a mean guy, but he's not here to cause problems—and Fawkes here is really helpful!" She reassured the aging man with a laugh, "We're just here to rest and get some food and beverage—the usual." She nodded with a smile, glancing at Charon who seemed to be having a 'who can be more intimidating' contest with the current Sheriff, and part-time mayor of Megaton. Fawkes seemed to head off in his own direction, briefly saying he was going to 'visit the medical practitioner'.

Why he couldn't have just said 'Doctor' was beyond her, but that was Fawkes for you.

The ebony skinned man just nodded, not having anything else to say as the Lone Wanderer began to head to the saloon, Charon in toe. People seemed to gawk at the extremely tall ghoul; it was something he was used to… Not necessarily something he enjoyed, but the redhead just let it happen. It wasn't like what they thought actually mattered. He'd been shot at, gotten bottles thrown at, punched, hit, called every name in the book—so why would he care what a bunch of wasteland settlers thought? Hell he was still in shock that his employer didn't have anything negative to say about him.

As Miss 101, as she'd been dubbed, continued walking—his eyes got the better of him. Looking her over, the armored vault suit did absolutely nothing for her figure at all. He scolded himself as his mind began to drift into thoughts of ripping the armor off and seeing her for her true beauty. He shook his head, he was a fucking ghoul. Why in God's name would a smoothskin like her, have any kind of feeling—aside for disgust, when it came to a ghoul. Honestly, he had been completely shocked that she didn't view him like the residents of Tenpenny Tower viewed ghouls. He'd come up against that bigotry one too many times. Each time the face was different, but the message was the same.

It was as if he was never human, he was just a zombie.
Not even worth Death's bittersweet embrace.

Charon was ripped out of his miserable thoughts by the laughter of his employer, the subtle hint of what would seem to be a smirk came across the bodyguard's face as she talked to one of the two children. He heard the name Maggie once or twice during his trips with the Lone Wanderer, so he assumed this was the girl.

"Charon, where's that uh… Thing I gave you?"

As the petite girl straightened from her crouched position, her emerald eyes fixated on him as she mouthed the words 'the conductor'. Oh yes, Maggie wanted a conductor for a 'project' she was working on, Ezra had talked about it multitudes of times. Apparently Maggie reminded Ezra of a not so whiny Amata. If he knew who Amata was, he'd probably been inclined to laugh. Handing it over, Ezra mouthed a thank you, and he just nodded in return before heading off to the saloon. The smoothskin really was just a big, overgrown kid; even though she tried to convince people otherwise.

Ezra smiled as she revealed the conductor from the bandana she'd borrowed from Charon, and giggled at the look of surprise and complete happiness that showed up on Maggie's face. She said she was working on something for Billy, and honestly—Ezra hoped it worked out. She knew what it was like to be like Maggie. To always want to show something to your dad, and make him stuff that would help him out. Like when she attempted to make a needle that delivered juice kind of like an IV because her father once said he was thirsty all the time.

As the ebony haired child ran off to go find Harden, Miss 101 looked at the saloon, the lights illuminating the area around it as darkness crept in. Heading for the door, it suddenly opened—Almost knocking the nineteen year old in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that."

Billy Creel was always a friendly face, it made sense he was going to go home—be a parent to Maggie, and then go scavenging like usual. Hearing Nora, Gob, and Lucy talking in the background made Ezra smirk, and the former mercenary noticed this.

"Your public is waiting," The older man laughed as he held the large door open for the former-vault dweller, which ushered her thanks. Entering the saloon, the familiar scent of alcohol and sweat filled the air. All the regulars were there; from Lucy, the blonde with a huge heart—to Gob, the lovable ghoul. Glancing at the man descending the stairs, she could only think he was one of Nova's 'clients' by the way his legs seemed to look as though they were going to buckle. The Wanderer could also feel the envy seething from Gob, who ever so greatly kept his composure.

"Hey smoothskin."

Gob was the first to say anything, followed by Nova waving from her place. She was still 'on duty', and was waiting for more johns. They always came, especially in the night. What made her uncomfortable was the way she was eyeing Charon, and it wasn't just her who was uncomfortable by it. "What'll it be?" She looked at Gob, thinking. She was stuck between a Nuka-Cola, and actually drinking liquor for once.

"One bottle of Nuka-Cola, please," The former vault-dweller spoke with a smile. Ah well, things could've been worse. The young revolutionary knew that to be a cold, concrete fact. She had to enjoy the little things while she had them, like the unintentional brush of Charon's hand against her own when they were walking… The occasional hot meal, and finding shampoo. Oh yes, shampoo was a big find out here in the wasteland, as was conditioner. Let alone a shower with hot water.

Of course, the large ghoul had no knowledge of anything she felt. Although she was cute, and often easy to read—she kept her personal things personal. Business and pleasure were not to be mixed—unless you were Nova, then frankly you could do whatever the fuck you wanted. Which was part of the reason she was so jealous of the experienced prostitute; she was as free as a bird. She didn't care who she wanted, or what she wanted. As long as she got it, hell, she almost got the Vault girl once, had it not been for her brazen determination to find her father first and throw everything else to the wayside.

Speaking of Nova, those bedroom eyes of hers were locked on the newly known bodyguard who made his way inside a few minutes before Capital Wasteland's resident pint-sized ass kicker. Whether the hype was true was something the woman highly doubted? Her friend though? She had never thought of sleeping with a ghoul before, because frankly Gob was the only ghoul she'd seen in years. He wasn't much to look at, sweet kid really—but no aggression. No sense of passion. From what Nova could tell about this new ghoul was he was aggressive, rough, and delightful… Like Jericho but a ghoul.

Despite Nova's ideas, she kept at bay; if not for herself, for that little vault-child.

Even in the dim light of the saloon, the aging woman could tell that if Charon asked her something—she'd be quick to answer. Those doe eyes may have been hidden from the one that mattered; but to everyone else she was more open than she seemed. The silver tongued gunslinger had a real bad pokerface, even as she sipped her Nuka-Cola.

Milky eyes saw his employer's lips around that bottle and he shook his head, he had been like this all day and he really didn't know why. Maybe it was just the heat of the day getting to him, or the ultra-jet he bought. The ultra-jet mixed with alcohol… It made his head dizzy, and all he could think of was… He shook his head again as he took another shot of whiskey. That auburn haired girl didn't even know what she was doing to him by just drinking a damn soft drink. This wasn't healthy, what he was thinking—was not healthy. As he stood up he stiffened, making his way over to the prostitute.

"How much for your time?", His voice was low as if to make sure that Miss 101 didn't hear.

Nova smirked and mouthed the words 'follow me', as if to take this private conversation away from the innocent ears of the petite girl, who sat there in silence. As the faint sound of the door closed, a shatter made her jolt in her chair. Gob was angry, smashing a glass in the process. The auburn haired girl sighed, feeling sorry for the ghoul as his hands went behind his head in frustration. He had it bad for Nova, he used to like the Vaultie—but that was only because she didn't treat him like a monster, but neither did Nova. That red-haired woman treated him like- like he mattered. Like he was something more than this disgusting ghoul; like he was human… Almost.

Moans began to ring throughout the saloon, and instinctively Gob turned up the radio.

Standing up to throw out her bottle, the Lost Wanderer smiled at the bartending ghoul.

"Wanna go out for an evening stroll?"

Anything to get their minds off of it.