Troublemakers

By Veronica Stroh

Author's Notes: There's no real storyline here, and if I imply that there is later on, it'll probably up for interpretation. All there is to say is that I love this pairing and I love this game, so enjoy and review!

Mini-Nukes

"Hey, Charon, you wanna come'ere and take a look at this?"

A grunt was followed by a hoarse reply. "You wanna hurry the fuck up so we can get the Hell outta here?"

"No, seriously, you want to see this."

The Ghoul growled and turned on his heel, abandoning his lookout and joining his partner by the crate they had just discovered in the Mirelurk-infested sewers. "Yeah? What is-" He stopped, staring at the contents with an open mouth.

His fiendish smoothskin friend smirked and leaned against the wood, shouldering her assault rifle. "How much do mini-nukes sell for again?"

Smokes

"I need to find some fucking Marlbs," she croaked as she flicked the butt out the window, watching it tumble down into the dirt ground below where it stayed lit for a few moments before finally extinguishing. Besides her, Charon scoffed.

"There's no Rad-Away for cancer." He said disapprovingly.

She looked at him sideways as she slipped another cigarette from her pack and brought it to her dark lips. "Charon," she said coyly as she lit up, "would you kiss me more if I quit?"

He glanced at her, then looked away with that familiar scowl on his face. Like she would quit, he thought. "Maybe if you brought it down to half a pack a day."

Smiling, she dug the cigarette into the rotted wood, earning a slight quirk of the eyebrows from the Ghoul.

Bed Springs

Creak. Creak.

Charon's eyes snapped open for the fifth time that night and he glared over his shoulder moodily. "Would you quit fuckin' moving?" He snapped at her.

She scowled at him and curled into a tighter on her side of the bed, her thick, curly black hair was a mess around her head. "Don't fucking yell at me, this bed is small, and you're fucking huge!"

He narrowed his milky eyes at her, then abruptly sat up and slid off the bed. "I'll sleep on the floor then, Jesus..." He sprawled across the dusty wooden floor and muttered insults angrily under his breath.

Silence for a long moment, and then...Creak.

Charon slammed his hands down on the wood as he sat up for the last time. "Do I need to dope you up to keep you still for five fuckin'-" He was cut off as a warm body fell from the bed and curled up next to him. He frowned at her for a moment, then sighed and pulled her close, muttering about how he didn't understand women.

Contract

Charon peered over the barrel fire flames at his companion as she drained the last drops from a whiskey bottle. She was red in the face as she wiped her mouth, lopsided with a goofy grin. The empty bottle dropped from her hands and landed on the ground with a hollow thud.

"What're you thinkin' 'bout Charon?" She slurred stupidly, swaying from side to side.

He frowned deeply and said, "how exactly did you get a hold of my contract from Ahzrukhal?" The mystery had been bothering him for awhile now. They'd been traveling together for a few weeks now and the subject had not yet been addressed.

She raised her eyebrows at him and then giggled in her drunken way. "That? Oh, well...I kind of...did the Ghoul a favor and killed off Greta for him. She was his competition, I guess."

Charon narrowed his eyes. "You killed Greta? Carol's Greta?"

"Yeah, Carol's Greta..." She paused and then added more solemnly, her guilt showing as clearly as the fire between them, "I'm no saint, Charon."

He sighed, and nodded at his feet. "Yeah, I know. None of us are."

Fawkes

The two emerged into the pasty sunlight covering the Mall from the entrance of the Museum of History, pockets filled with traded caps and stimpaks. Charon looked as foul as a deathclaw, while the girl besides him stretched her arms over her head and yawned with a pleasant smile.

"It's good to see Fawkes again, I never knew if he got out of Vault 87 alive or not."

Charon grunted and shouldered his shotgun. "Good for him."

She glanced at him sharply, because she could always tell when he was in a mood. "What's wrong with you?" She asked suspiciously, putting her hands on her hips.

Charon scowled at her. "He's pretty well-spoken for a super mutant, am I right?"

She stared at him for a long moment, and then covered her mouth, hiding a blossoming smirk. "You...No way!"

Charon gritted his teeth bitterly and began to walk down the escalators. She started laughing out loud behind him. "Oh my God! You're acting jealous!"

Chill

Nights in the Wasteland could be cold. Very cold. She sat at the edge of their encampment and stared out into the sky, hardly keeping watch. She shivered in the freezing wind, and brought the collar of her moth-eaten jacket closer around her neck.

It was times like this that she really started to miss her dad, and Amata, and, fuck, even Butch. The times when Charon was asleep, and she couldn't get distracted by their petty discussions, and the wasteland was quiet under the smoggy skies.

Sighing, she tried to keep her mind off the cold, but it was difficult. She let out a harsh orchestra of clattering teeth, when something heavy and warm fell over her shoulders.

A blanket? It was old, but warm. She turned around, just in time to see Charon flop back down onto the torn mattress they had salvaged with his back turned towards her.

Just a Scratch

"Charon, you're hurt." She pointed out.

"It's just a scratch." He replied.

"No." She snapped. "You're hurt!"

He growled. "Let go of me, you psycho."

"Quit being so retarded and sit the fuck down." She paused and added, "that's an order from your employer."

"Yeah right, some employer." He scoffed.

"Just let me patch you up quick, we don't have any Stimpaks." She said reasonably.

There was a moment of silence before he grunted, "hm."

"What is it?" She asked.

He mumbled, "your eyes're brown..."

She snorted, "yeah, and?"

"Nothin', I just never noticed." He said with a sigh.

Chems

"What're you doing?" Charon asked sharply, as she pulled the inhaler from her mouth casually.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Jet." She said simply, tossing him the half-used container. "Safer than psycho, and it doesn't fuck me up as much."

"You're addicted to jet?" Charon growled.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not addicted to anything. If I were addicted, you'd know it."

"Why do you take it then?" He asked with narrowed eyes.

She rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she considered the answer. "Well, it relaxes my muscles, makes me a beast with this rifle, makes the wasteland a whole lot more fun to hang out in, and..."

"And?" He prompted.

She grinned devilishly. "It gets me horny."

Life-Saver

Charon aimed his shot gun skillfully at the advancing super mutant. The blast took out the fucker's whole face, and it fell to the ground with a crash, sending it's sledgehammer spinning across the marble floor.

"Nice!" Complimented his partner as she jumped down from the upper terrace with surprising agility for her tiny, round figure and cocked her rifle. "Just took out two centaurs upstairs, I think we're-"

"Get down!" Charon barked suddenly, lunging forward and flattening her to the ground as a rocket soared over their heads and detonated against the back wall. Bits of ceiling crumbled down on them as Charon grabbed her rifle and showered the last super mutant with a barrage of bullets, shredding it's green skin and sending blood flying. It fell down with a roar of defeat, and the Ghoul wiped the dust from his thinning hair.

"Woah..." she breathed, wide-eyed and shocked. "I didn't even see him coming!"

"Fuckin' dumb ass," Charon mumbled, stepping off of her and tossing her back the rifle. "You're the worst wastelander ever."

She simply smiled.

Cock Fight

She stretched magnificently until her shoulders popped and her hip bone snapped satisfyingly. Charon gave her an impressed look, before returning to his shotgun, which he was repairing with a salvaged double-barrel.

"Why do you keep using that piece of shit?" She asked while rubbing her eyes. She too was repairing her own weapon, a Chinese assault rifle she had picked up off a raider after leaving Vault 101 for the first time. Best weapon she'd ever had.

Charon shrugged, "I've always used this."

She smiled and closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall. "I still think it's scrap metal."

"Then maybe you should sell it to that weirdo Walter down in Megaton. In fact, while you're at it, get rid of that piece of shit rifle." He leaned over to try and grab the rifle with his free hand.

She sat up abruptly and swiped her rifle from his reach. "Don't even joke about that! This gun's saved my life more times than you have!"

Charon snorted. "Yeah, I doubt that."