Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout, I did not create it (do I look like I work for Bethesda, I mean seriously?), nor am I making any money out of this story... for it is a fanfiction!

Rating: T (for language - come on, Charon, watch your tongue dude! :P)

POV: Charon (first person). This story follows the Lone Wanderer's tales and adventures, with (of course) Charon as a follower and the LW being a girl.

Author's note: All right I know you have like... no dialogue option with Charon aside from the basic companion dialogues, but still, I'm so pigheaded that I wrote some stuff that could've been said between the Lone Wanderer and Charon ;) oh, and yeah, I know the dialogues taken from the game may be not EXACTLY the same, like Three Dog's speech, but oh well ^^

Smoothskin, my Smoothskin

The first time I saw her, I must admit she definitely captured my attention. Not only because smoothskins seldom reached Underworld and walked in the Ninth Circle, but also because of the way she looked. Anyone stepping inside the place was bound to have fought his way through a bunch of blood-thirsty Super Mutants loaded with any sort of weapons. She, however, was not bleeding all over the place, she was not wincing in pain as she entered the bar, and, if I'm being honest, she didn't even look like she had suffered any sort of injury from her fight against the green, oversized bastards.

The thing was, she did not look that tough either. It was hard to believe she could've killed all of them, single-handly, without getting the beating up of her life. She was wearing a green armour that definitely looked like it could use some repair and a rifle on her back: a few blonde locks fell off her helmet, circling her face gently. She was strikingly beautiful, with extremely elegant features, high cheekbones and a heart-shaped mouth. Her skin was fair, fairer than anyone I had seen before in that fucking crazy mess called the Capital Wasteland. She looked like she was barely twenty, she was slender and rather petite: her stunning crystal blue eyes looked around, gazing at each and every one of us.

She was a beauty - probably the prettiest girl I had ever seen, and surely the prettiest I can remember.

I felt odd when she stopped her eyes on me. It felt like she was scanning me, analyzing me. As a Ghoul, you get used to any sort of bad first encounter reaction, from the grimace that twist one's face to the "Get the fuck away from me, zombie", and of course everyone's favourite, the bullet: strangely, she had none of these reactions to our condition. She didn't seem disgusted by our rotten skins, or scared that we would jump at her throat screaming "BRAAIIIIIN!". She just looked honestly curious and intrigued, as though she had never seen a Ghoul before, or even heard of them for that matter.

She smiled faintly to me before heading for the counter, and I thought into myself...

Where the hell does that girl come from?

"Helloyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa it's meeee Three Dog! Bit of news, chiiiildren. Hey, kiddies, remember when I told you about that guy that came out from Vault 101 near Megaton? Well, someone else got out and came to your humble servant, and guess what: that was the first guy's child!"

I usually never pay attention to the radio. Of course the GNR is better than the Enclave Radio, but when it comes down to it, it's always the same bullshit. Don't feed the Yao Guai, stay the fuck away from Deathclaws and Raiders, watch your weapon condition. Everyone in the Capital Wasteland with any sort of common sense knew that already. The only smart thing that ever came out of this guy's mouth was to stop shooting at Ghouls that aren't Feral. All right, so it did not work at all, but at least he had tried, right?

Anyway. This time, Three Dog definitely got my attention.

"That's right, she's out there too, and she's looking for daddy. Aaaawww. But, honestly, what the hell is going on down there? A mutiny? Revolution? Somebody farted?"

My eyes moved back towards the counter: her elbows on the hard surface, the girl was speaking with the fucking bastard who had my contract. Surely she was the one the DJ was ranting about, and that explained why she looked so much like she didn't belong in this fucked up world: that was because she did not.

I tried to listen to her conversation with him. Not that it was supposed to be hard - I've always had excellent hearing and sight. Well, I've had it for as long as I can remember - you kind of lose track at some point, you know. This day, however, I couldn't: she was speaking very low, and Three Dog's howling covered up my boss' voice.

After a few minutes, she turned back and walked towards me.

"Hey," she said.

I wasn't allowed to speak to anyone, and no one was allowed to bother me, but of course the smoothskin didn't know it.

"Talk to-" I started.
"No," she replied. "He isn't your boss anymore."

I blinked.

"You mean you purchased my contract from him?"

She nodded, and I remained silent for a very short while. What kind of money did she have, for Christ's sake? Some people had asked before, but whatever price he had asked for my contract had immediately turned them down. I knew my combat skills, loyalty and obedience where all very valuable to that son of a bitch - not to mention that he was the most dishonest man I've ever met - so how much exactly had she paid for me?

Well, the hell if I knew, and as of today, I still don't know how many bottlecaps she had to cough up to get her tiny hands on my contract. I didn't mind.

"All right, then I'll go with you," I said, "I just have one thing to do before."

I shot my previous boss. Blood splattered around and the customers screamed, but I simply smirked and walked back to that girl from the Vault. I had nothing to do with him anymore, no more loyalty, no more orders: I was free to do what I had wished to do ever since he had taken me. Damn it felt so freaking good to finally do it, I had wanted to end his meaningless existence for so long I couldn't remember how many years had gone by.

"Now we can go," I said to the smoothskin. "Wherever you wish."

She didn't look remotely shaken by what I had just done: either because she was some mean blood-thirty bitch too, or because she felt, she knew that he was no angel. At first I thought the first option: but later, I would understand that the second was the truth.

I followed her in silence as she walked out Underworld: I hadn't gotten outside for a while, but it didn't matter. I knew the place. It was as screwed up as it was when I had seen it for the last time.

I did not understand quite well why she would purchase my contract: at first I thought she needed some assistance. I thought that she felt the need of getting herself some sort of a bodyguard, saw me standing there and thought I looked tough enough to protect her. Surely a girl who had just crawled up from a Vault wanted protection in this crazy messy world she had just put herself into. Our first fight with a bunch of Super Mutants that jumped at our throat the minute we got a little away from the museum proved me wrong: she was a very decent fighter, more than able to hold her own in a battle. The rifle she carried on her back was no toy, and she clearly knew how to use it.

So I really wondered. Perhaps she was indeed a bitch, and she just wanted a slave to do her dirty work. Well, if she thought I'd do the trick, then she had another thing coming. After we were done killing them and looting their giant bodies, she turned to me.

"Hold me," she said.
"Hold you?" I repeated.

She waved her left hand: for the first time I noticed the odd device she was carrying.

"That's my Pip-Boy," she said. "It can carry me wherever I want as long as I've been there at least once: I believe you can follow me if you hold me."

I touched her armoured shoulder. Not her skin. Smoothskins hate it when we Ghouls touch them, as if we were going to give them whatever disease we had. Their ignorance amazes me: you can't catch "Ghoulification" through a Ghoul, you've got to get exposed to a hell of a bunch of radiations to turn into a Ghoul.

I felt a weird twist into my stomach, and everything went blur: when it stopped, we had moved from the Mall to a place I didn't know. Without a word, she walked towards a door: I simply followed. We walked our way down some caves when some stupid kid yelled at us:

"Stop right there lady!" he said, pointing the smoothskin.

I stayed in the dark corner. If she wanted to go into some sort of negociation with that brat, the fact that she was accompagnied by a Ghoul wouldn't help her, and if this little piece of shit thought he could take his rifle and shoot her, then I was close enough to shoot him before he could hurt her.

"Come on," she said kindly, "I'm just wandering around, I won't harm anybody."
"No," he snapped stubbornly. "Not after what happened to Sammy and the others - Mungos stay the hell away from my town."

I nearly growled: really, either the kid had some nerves, or he was really dumb. Didn't he realise how lucky he was that she had first spoken to him and kindly asked for the permission to enter, instead of just putting a bullet through his small head?

This is the Wasteland, you arrogant brat, get with your time already.

I would've shot him, but she did not. She, I would learn it through the time, was not like that.

"How can I get you to trust me?" she asked.

The so-called Mayor sneered.

"Well maybe, MAYBE, if you can get the ones that got caught by the Slavers, then I'll let you in. Maybe."
"And where are they?"
"Paradise Falls," he replied. "That's where the Slavers come from."

My blood, if there was any blood still running through my veins, froze. Paradise Falls. The name echoed into my mind. I knew the place and it filled me with dread even though I had never set a foot there. A town full of Slavers - as a slave, let's say I would tend to stay away from such place.

"All right, I'll get them."

She walked away and, needless to say, I followed - reluctantly. We found the place quite easily: at the door, we were stopped by a guard. He refused to let us enter if the smoothskin didn't agree to either enslave a bunch of people or pay quite a huge amount of caps. She shook her head and grabbed her rifle - I did the same with my shotgun. It felt like I was about to need it, and BAM. She shot him, right between the eyes. Other Slavers rushed at us, firing various guns: she did not falter, stood her ground, and shot back. Once we were done cleaning that area, she took out a knife from her pocket and kneeled over the first body.

"Take a finger from each of them," she said, "And then give them to me."

I obeyed and took my combat knife, though I did not understand why she would collect such thing. Perhaps she was some sort of a crazy bitch after all.

But, as we barged into the city and fought the Slavers together, I understood the very essence of what she was: an angel with a rifle and a fucking steady aim. She had absolutely no mercy for those Slavers, because they were enslaving people, making their lives hell. She shot them, stabbed them, cut their fingers off, looted them and robbed the city blind. For innocent people, however, even the annoying ones like that brat we had met earlier, she had pity. Compassion. She wouldn't hurt them except if they forced her to fight them.

I secretly admired her for doing so.

I got to know her and what she was doing as time went by. She didn't speak much, but I didn't mind: I had never been the one to talk a lot, but I listened - a lot. I listened enough to understand that she was after her father, who was himself after something called Project Purity - an utopia of "fresh, pure water" for everyone, an idea that he had abandoned at his child's birth. And I watched, too: I watched as she freed captured people from the Super Mutants and refused any sort of reward; I watched as she made some crazy, complicated surgery on a wounded guy she didn't even know, just because she felt that it was her duty since she had the knowledge needed to save him. I watched as she convinced Burke to get the fuck out of Megaton and disarmed the bomb.

I watched as she used every bullet she shot, every Stimpak she possessed, every little thing she knew, every minute that she had, to help and make this shitty world a better place - or at least a less-shitty place. Hell, she even got into a lot of trouble just to retrieve a fucking violin for some ranting old lady we bumped into in the middle of nowhere.

Oh, and I finally understood why she cut the fingers off from these Slavers the day she brought my contract: she was a Regulator, one of the few people trying to clean up the Wasteland, though she did not wear their coat. I felt kinda better knowing that she wouldn't cut off my finger in my sleep for some sort of twisted, wicked tendency.

Sometimes, when she needed to rest and we found a place, we spoke a little. She would drop her rifle, lay on whatever bed we had found and close her eyes. She had quickly understood that I would never allow anyone to even brush a stray of her golden hair, and in those calm moments when she dropped her guard completely, I knew that she was putting her life between my hands, and I took care of it as though it was my own life - or even better. It was only in those moments that she would truly speak to me, and allow me to know a little about her.

Her name was Gabrielle. It was beautiful and smooth to my ears. Back in the Vault, she had nothing to live for: now, she lived for her father and his goddamn Project Purity. She would find him, and make that freaking purifier work. She'd do it with him, for him. The night she told me that, when we were out in the middle of nowhere, I remember that she asked me what I lived for. I had never thought about it much, and no one had ever cared.

"I live to help and protect you," I blankly replied. "As long as you'll want me to do so, at least."

She smiled faintly - perhaps sadly, but I have never been the one to guess people's emotions - her eyes still closed.

"The contract, uh?" she said with her mellow voice. "So you're following me because you feel obliged..."

Her stunning blue eyes shot opened: God, they were amazing. Piercing cobalt blue eyes that stared through every of your carefully placed masks to look directly at your soul. You couldn't lie to this girl, you couldn't hide anything from her.

"What if I tore it apart?" Gabrielle asked.

I remained silent for a short while, searching for an honest answer - because I knew that she wouldn't just take any bullshit, she wanted the truth. If the contract was to be destroyed, then I was free. But... what would I do as a free Ghoul? I wondered for about one or two minutes, then said:

"I'd still stick around, except if you wish otherwise."

The answer seemed to satisfy her, and she closed her eyes again. It was true I would: I had learned to like the smoothskin, and a lot. I thought of nothing to do with my life other than following her until she decided me to get the hell away from her.

She was fearless. We've been through tough fights, she saw a lot of bloody mess for a girl raised into a secured Vault where Radroaches were the worst problem: but she never faltered. God, for such a delicate young lady, she sure was tougher that she looked: I protected her even though she did not need it that much. One day, she finally discovered that her father had gone to some Vault 112: though I followed her as far as I could, the Vault in itself happened to be some sort of simulation. I couldn't follow her there, since there was only one seat left, so I watched as she calmly sat in the simulator, and stood there, ready to shot whoever or whatever came too near.

Nothing happened, and she finally got out the simulator, along with an older man. It was her father, I knew it before they spoke: she shared a lot of his facial features. In the middle of their conversation, however, he gestured towards me.

"What's that?" he reluctantly asked.

I did not react, but she did.

"His name's Charon," she growled, "And he's saved my life out there far too many times for me to count!"
"Mercenary?"
"Friend," she stubbornly replied.

He didn't say anything more about me, but I could see that his eyes had softened the moment he had learned I had helped his precious little daughter so many times.

After that, everything went so fast and messy: we got the team in Rivet City and entered the purifier. Got attacked by the sons of bitches from the Enclave, probably the toughest fight I'd been through with Gabrielle, and entered the Citadel. The goddamn place was filled with those Brotherhood of Steel assholes, and judging by the leers they shot at me, I knew they wished nothing more than blast my skull off with a Minigun. Well, too bad for them I was with the team from the Purifier, and Gabrielle. Apparently, being James' daughter gave her some privileges - including walking in the Citadel with a Ghoul without anyone shooting.

She looked at me before we went after the GECK.

"The Enclave will be trying to retrieve it too," she said. "Or to retrieve me. Now that my father's dead, I am the only one who knows the code to activate the purifier. If they get me-"
"I'll blast their skulls open before they do," I interrupted her.
"I said if they get me, Charon, if they do, if they capture me... I want you to go back at the Ninth Circle, and wait for me. Wait for one week for me to come back, and then if I don't, consider that I died and consider yourself free, forever."

She reajusted her rifle on her back.

"That will be all," Gabrielle concluded, entering Little Lamplight.

It was as if she had known, as if she had read it in the stars she loved so much. As of today, I still don't know why she said that to me - she was never the one to speak in such pessimist way - but she was right. They did get her: they knocked her unconcious with some sort of a flash grenade. I felt dizzy, too, though I was too far away to pass out like she did. I couldn't do anything, but even if I hadn't felt dizzy, I had no chance to do anything without her. I could kill them, all right, but the place was surely surrounded by the Enclave: with her conscious, we could've hidden, and use her Pip-Boy to get back to the Citadel, but I didn't know how the damn thing worked. I didn't even know if I could possibly make it work.

So I obeyed: I sneaked my way out of that Vault 87, and headed straight to the Ninth Circle. I hadn't even waited for a full day when the door slowly swung opened, and she entered. I expected her to look victorious, but she did not: well, at least she was alive.

"You return," I said as I immediately got to my feet. "Shall I join you?"
"Of course, Charon," she replied with a faint smile. "Here..."

She dropped a suit of Power Armour on the table before me. Some blue lights glowed on the shoulders.

"Wear this. It'll protect you much better that what you're wearing."

I did as I was told, and she headed for the door.

"Let's go. I've got some bad news for Elder Lyons."

I did not ask questions: I followed.

We busted in the purifier with some giant patriotist robot and the Pride, with their shiny armour and flashing guns. And arrogance. And general "assholeness". Gabrielle did not look remotely impressed by them and just fought her very best: when we finally reached the control room, that scientist bitch from Rivet City had terrible news for them: someone had to go and activate the purifier now. And that someone wouldn't come out the room alive.

"So what, what do we do?" Sarah asked upon hearing the terrible new. "Draw straws?"
"No need," my smoothskin replied. "I'll go and activate it."

She turned her crystal blue eyes towards me, and she briefly smiled. I knew that this smile was a farewell. Her eyes betrayed no hesitation: once again, Gabrielle would not falter.

"The waters of life," she whispered before entering the room flooded with high radiations.

My stomach twisted painfully: I could've gone in there, I could've activated the Purifier without any risk for my own health. Radiations don't harm Ghouls - aren't we irradiated enough already? But she would not suggest such thing. Smart girl that she was, I knew that she was aware of the fact that I could do it without problem, but she refused that. She wished to do it herself, complete her father's work. Sacrifice herself for Project Purity, just like he had done before her.

There was a loud BANG as she entered the code: she quickly passed out, and so did Sarah Lyons. The whole place was filled by radiation, and I barged into the control room, touching Gabrielle's wrist. She was still alive. I made a motion to take her into my arms, because I had to get her out of here and take her to the closest doctor if I wanted her to survive, but I was pushed aside by a bunch of people from the Brotherhood wearing radiation suits.

Did I mention I hate those bastards?

"Move aside, filthy Ghoul," one of them said.

I grit my teeth at the insult and injustice - I wanted to help her, I wanted to save her, they had no right to push me aside like that. I had done far more for her than they could ever do.

"Still alive, like Sentinel Lyons," another said.

The third one stuck a needle into her arm, injecting her some sort of a serum. I suppose it was something against the radiations. I followed as they carried her outside, I followed them all the way to the Citadel, but they refused to allow me inside, as if I was going to start ripping throats opened.

"No zombies inside," one spat to me. "You're classified as an hostile being. You're lucky we're not wasting any bullet on you."

Truly, I will always be amazed by how stupid they are. With all their technology and scientists, they can't tell the difference between me and a Feral? Jerks. But why did I expect? Gabrielle's presence was the only thing forcing them to allow me into their sanctuary. Now that she was out, they wouldn't let me in.

I headed back for the Ninth Circle: if she made it, she would come back for me - or I hoped so. I waited for days, weeks, but it paid off. She came back. She stood there in the doorframe, staring at me with a smile on her lips and her arms crossed. Her eyes were enlightened, more beautiful than ever: victorious. Not only had she activated the purifier, she had also managed to survive: I'd feel fucking victorious too you know. I didn't even ask if she wanted me to join her: I knew that she did - why would she be here otherwise?

"We've got a lot of work to do," she announced as we headed towards the exit. "All this pure water won't just teleport itself to the people of the Wastes."
"I'm ready."

She smiled and glanced at me upon her shoulder as we passed by the huge skeleton in the museum entrance. Her smile. It brought light and warmth to anyone much better than a huge fire, because it went straight to your soul, like her intense gaze.

"I know you are."

Gabrielle. My smoothskin. My beautiful, clever, deadly smoothskin.

Together we'll make this fucked up world a decent place to be.

Ze end: Theeere you go, quite a long one-shot but it wouldn't have fitted/flowed well enough to cut it in multi-chapters... so, I hope you enjoyed your reading, I've had this in my head for soooo long, everytime I played the game with Charon as a follower (and this is saying a lot, he's my favourite follower XD), and finally decided today that I was gonna sit my ass in from of the computer, and write it down. Please let me know if you liked it (or not! XD)