When she left Vault 101 in search of her father, Charon was a bouncer in Underworld, the city of ghouls. Being under a strict contract with his employer, Ahzrukhal, he wasn't allowed to speak to the other customers. Ahzrukhal claimed he scared them, but he only really scared them when he was told to throw them out. He didn't think he was very intimidating when he spoke, but whatever floated his employers particular boat, Charon would help it along. For a while, all he could really do was listen about this newly discovered Vault-chick over in Megaton buying guns and scavenging the area around it. Someone said that she cleared out the raider camp at Springvale Elementary, but others argued that, saying she was just a small Vaultie girl and there was no way she could've done that with so little experience. That was about two weeks after she was discovered by the Capital Wasteland's little grapevine that made its way around to Underworld. Quinn, the trader, was the city's connection to the outside world and whenever he came back with Underworld's requested things such as scrap metal and other things the residents paid him to find, he'd talk about what he heard about this little Vault girl. Sometimes, they'd hear about her on GNR, but sometimes Quinn was quicker than Three Dog's sources. Ahzrukhal didn't put on GNR very often, but Charon would always listen hard about this little girl who came from Vault 101. He could only wonder how many times a day she cried because of the sky or because she dirtied her suit. He could only chuckle to himself when he thought about her sobbing in the middle of the wasteland because she got a paper cut.

One day, a ghoul ran into the bar and nearly ran into Patchwork. He whispered something to his friend, which wasn't really a whisper since ghoul's voices are so raspy and vociferous. The entire bar heard it, and Charon believes that Ahzrukhal found it more interesting than his customers did. "The Vault-chick is in Underworld! She's talking to Winthrop now." Charon couldn't wait to see her ripped up face and her frightened expression at all the corpses walking around. He hoped she was a drinker. Then again she was born and raised under a damn rock, how could she be? At the least she would be curious.

An hour later, she arrived. She walked into the bar slowly, cautiously. Charon noticed that first about her; her cautious posture and the way her hand drifted towards the .44 Magnum against her hip. Was that scoped? He couldn't tell from his distance from her; he stood in the corner while she stood in the doorway. Ahzrukhal looked at the newest smoothskin to enter his domain and his decayed face brightened at the sight of her. Her long brown hair drifted over her shoulders instead of tied back like most smoothskin humans seemed to do out in the Wasteland. There were heavy bags under her eyes and the armor she wore under her jeans and shirt seemed to weigh her down. The leather plates on her duster (did she take that from a regulator?) were covered in crusted blood and the gun at her hip looked about to break at the barrel. Still though, despite her damaged equipment she had an air of confidence, a secret knowledge that she could brutally rip apart anyone who opposed her. Charon was almost confused. She looked like the person who took down a whole fort of raiders and looked like the person who single-handedly, in fact, she didn't look like a vault dweller at all! She looked like someone who's been out for a lifetime. She looked like she knew. Could one month and a half do that to a little vault girl? Apparently so...

The Vault-chick went up to the bar and bought a bottle of whiskey, which she took to the table next to Charon. She looked at him warily, just as he looked at her in the same way, and pulled out her gun and set it on the table. Charon growled audibly, signaling to her that it was NOT a good idea. Vaultie looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "What?" she said. Her voice was raspy, but it wasn't frightened. She looked used to the sight of ghouls. He guessed it was because she's been in Underworld for the past hour.

"Talk to Ahzrukhal." he said, nodding his head at the bartender. His employer looked over briefly to see her gun on the table and his face scrunch up in some kind of emotion. Vaultie looked back and then over at Charon again.

"I just-"

"Talk. To. Ahzrukhal." he repeated again, not giving her any chance to speak to him further. She stood up slowly, holstering her gun yet again while glaring at the ghoul standing by her, and then walked back to the bar. She left her whiskey on the table and her pack next to the chair she sat at earlier, a signal to him that there was no way she was moving from the seat she'd claimed. Charon didn't care where she sat, so long as she didn't shoot up the bar. He turned away from her figure sauntering back over to the holder of his contract and watched Patchwork wander in and out of the bar, looking for either his alcohol or his caps.

"What's with that ghoul in the corner?" she asked loudly, obviously looking for his attention. He looked over briefly and just barely missed the lazy gaze Ahzrukhal gave towards the ghoul guarding his bar. Barely. When Charon looked over, however, Ahzrukhal looked back at his smoothskin customer and spoke in more or less a hushed tone. He couldn't hear it over the bustle of the other customers in the room, but he knew it was about him (obviously, if she called attention to her requested topic of conversation like that). Once or twice, the smoothskin looked back and met Charon's eyes briefly, a thoughtful spark in her green, unruined eyes, and looked back at Ahzrukhal to continue the conversation.

Whatever conversation it was, it wasn't a particularly long one. She walked back over and sat down at the chair she claimed and set her gun down again. Charon narrowed her eyes, but she leaned back and crossed her arms, almost challenging him. "Ahzrukhal said I could repair it while I was here, so long as you're watching and this thing isn't loaded. Sound good to you?" she told him. "Name's Flood, by the way." Charon didn't answer, only crossed his arms in return and leaned against the wall, glancing at his employer. The hideous being by the bar nodded at him and made a gesture with his hand, signaling to Charon to watch the little Vault girl. Without another word, Charon looked down at the girl and watched her repair her gun. But not until after he collected her ammunition for the particular gun. She seemed dejected and a shit load more nervous without her ammo, but she didn't give another fuss.

So she sat there, tinkering away at her gun while looking over her shoulder at the rest of the bar. It occurred to Charon that she hardly fixed anything within the next ten minutes; she was peering around the bar far too often. She jumped whenever the door behind her opened and she eyed anyone who came in the other way, nearest Charon. After said ten minutes, she leaned back and ran a bandaged hand through her ragged hair, tangled and from the many other times she repeated the motion. Was she nervous? Charon watched her shift around in her chair and glance behind her back. A month and a half and she's already paranoid? Quite the development.

After a while she stood and switched from the seat farthest Charon to the one directly in front of him. The ghoul stared down at her and shifted from foot to foot. The Vaultie looked back at him. "You don't mind, do you? I never did like not knowing what was behind me is all. With a bunch of armed people around nowadays, there's more a reason to." she clarified. Charon shrugged and glanced around again. She was very odd, wasn't she? Was she this paranoid before she left her precious Vault? To the many people in the bar, this girl was a mystery. She looked nothing like a Vault girl. She looked like a goddamn bounty hunter! Charon heard a few others talking about how they'd like to talk to her but were too afraid to ask her questions. In fact, one even remarked how intimidating that particular corner of the bar looked with both Charon and Flood there. Ahzrukhal seemed to like the many ghouls coming in to buy something and inconspicuously glance at her while they drank.

"So," Flood started quietly. Charon refocused on the gun and saw the bullets still there on the table and a ripped apart gun. She'd gotten much farther in her work than when she was freaking out about who was behind her. "I know you can't talk to me since you aren't allowed. But I'm bored as hell." The girl seemed to be making sure Ahzrukhal doesn't hear her. He was too busy taking orders from customers anyway. "So while I was sitting here tinkering, I had an idea. I'll say something or ask a question and instead of you answering out loud, you kick my chair." Charon raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the wall. Ahzrukhal did nothing but cater to his customers. "One kick for yes. A harder kick for no. Sound alright? Remember, a light nudge is yes, so kick wisely." Flood had the widest grin on her face from her little pun and turned around to piece her gun back together.

Charon didn't want to get caught indirectly speaking to her. Ahzrukhal had specifically ordered him not to speak to anyone about anything except for the person talking to him to go talk to Ahzrukhal. After that, his employer would get people to leave him alone. So he didn't touch her chair. He just leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Watching her.

But after a while, Charon was bored. He did want to converse with her, but there was still the matter of Ahzrukhal at hand. Flood looked back at him every so often and watched him watch her then she would go back and piece her gun back together. She was purposely taking a long time, he noticed.

Until, finally, Charon tapped the chair leg with his boot. Flood tensed up from the lack of warning, but leaned back and relaxed with a grin on her face, examining her scope meant for the .44 Magnum.

"So do you like it here?" she asked, making a pretend gun with her right hand and fitting the scope on the invisible weapon with her left. A rougher kick sent her sitting straight up. "No. Got it." Flood turned her chair so she could see him out the corner of her eye. Charon found himself wishing he were the one allowed to speak. Her voice sounded like it was meant to be persistent, and persistent people annoyed him.

"Do you not like it here because of..." she looked around. "the customers?" Another rough kick, but she was prepared for that one. "Hmm, Ahzrukhal?" The bartender looked at Charon at the mention of his name, but looked away when nothing caught his attention. Charon kicked the chair lightly. The smoothskin nodded. "That's understandable. He don't seem very pleasant."

Charon held his tongue when he wanted to say No shit, Sherlock. But he's been ordered to keep silent. So silent he shall stay.

"Okay, how about this one: That contract of yours," Charon inwardly groaned. "You obey everything the person holding that contract says. If your employer hurts you physically, your contract becomes invalid, yeah?" A light tap. Flood was silent as she clicked the last piece of hardware onto her gun, making it fully functional and repaired. "Good."

Flood stood from her chair and sauntered over to the bar again. Her bag remained by the chair and the bullets lay scattered. Ahzrukhal got her a whiskey from under the bar and she gave him caps, but instead of walking away, she sat right on down on a stool and spoke with him. Others in the room looked back between Flood and Charon. Obviously he was the topic of conversation. Charon watched Ahzrukhal smile his bartering smile and lean forward on the bar, clearly interested in this little girl's words. Part of Charon wondered if she were telling him of their "conversation", but another part said she wasn't that bitchy. And then another part just didn't give two shits. So his glossy blue eyes scanned the entire bar and kept a wary gaze on those who are suspicious.

Eventually, the little Vault girl strode back over and smiled up at him that big in-your-face smile. "Hey." she said.

"No." Ahzrukhal was watching. "Talk to-"

Flood shoved a flimsy piece of paper in his face and shouted "Oh no you don't!" On looking customers watched them interact as such. Charon was the most surprised. He took the paper from her hand and read it over. It only took a moment before he recognized it as his contract. Flood pretended to clean her nails in a pompous fashion. The Vaultie was extremely proud of herself. "Read it and rejoice, Charon. You're outta here."

Charon looked up from the paper and into her blazing hazel eyes. Excellent, he thought to himself. Absolutely excellent.

"I personally would like to depart as soon as you want to." As soon as he wanted to? "Anything you gotta do first? People to say bye to or anything?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Charon replied and strode over to the bar, where Ahzrukhal stood. The ghoul smirked at Charon as he approached and lazily leaned against the bar. He has been waiting for this perfect moment for a long, long time.

"Ah, Charon, come to say goodbye to your old employer?" he said, his posture and self-esteem making him seem high and mighty. But he wasn't, Charon knew that.

"Yes." was the only word he spoke before firing his shotgun into Ahzrukhal's face. Twice. Flood stared dumbfounded with her pack over her left shoulder in a limp-like fashion. He approached her again, holstering his weapon and ignoring the blood on his legs and chest. "Alright. Let's go."

She stared up at him for a moment, looked over at the dead bartender, and back up at him. Then she seemed to just blink away whatever confused her and shrugged it off.

"Alright then. Lemme get my caps back and we'll head on out." She strode past him to collect her caps from his dead body and took some whiskey bottles from the counter. "Right then! Onward!"

The ghouls of Underworld watched the pair as they strode out the entrance, Flood smirking with her hands resting in her deep pockets and Charon following her with his hands at his sides. The inhabitant ghouls watched them stride out with purpose and Charon closed the door behind him, staring at everyone dangerously before closing the door.

After a while, they left Underworld and she led him down into the subways in front of the Museum of History. "I want to get to know you, Charon." she said out of nowhere as they entered through the gate. The ghoul raised a nonexistent eyebrow and looked at her silently, following her lead. "Tell me about yourself. Something you feel comfortable with sharing, though. Don't say anything you don't want to."

He took that as an order and took a moment to choose his words, but which words should he choose to use? "What about me would you like to know, miss?" he asked her, unsure of what to say. What would she want to hear? Her hazel eyes looked back at him through the darkness of the metro tunnels. She stopped walking and stared at him for a long moment, contemplating. He stood there in front of her, watching her scrutinize him. Suddenly, he felt very self-conscious.

She hummed a tune lightly, tapping her foot to an unheard beat. "I'm not sure. Is there anything you want to share upfront? Anything at all?"

Charon thought a moment. "Not particularly, miss." Her lips twitched downward. Had he done something to upset her already?

The young woman chewed on her cheek a bit before looking back at him. "Can you tell me what you enjoy doing? Hobbies when you have the time to yourself?"

He nodded. "I enjoy upgrading my weapons and shooting targets." His employer raised an eyebrow.

"That's it? Do you read books?" she asked, surveying the tunnel around them as if distracted.

"No, miss. I have not a very adequate vocabulary."

"Adequate is a large word. So is vocabulary."

"Yes, they are. What I meant was that I have been taught basic reading skills and writing skills during my training, but there was no time for elaboration into certain aspects. My academics were not very important."

"Oh."

The woman began walking again after their break and they moved. Charon was wondering why the questions. If it was a trust issue, his contract protected her from his betrayal until the contract changed hands. Then he could do what he pleased with her unless his new employer said otherwise. "What he pleased" meant he could kill her if he wished. Of course, she hasn't made an impression that strong yet. So there was nothing for her to worry about anyway.

"Permission to speak freely, miss?"

She halted and looked back at him, an eyebrow raised in a disapproving manner. "You kiddin'? You don't need permission to speak freely. Ever."

"Am I to assume that is a standing order?"

"Uh…yeah sure. Okay. What's on your mind, Charon?"

The ghoul mercenary hesitated before expressing his feelings. "Why did you question me?"

His employer tapped her chin thoughtfully as they stopped just short of the wide lobby area that once teemed with passengers to railroads, but no longer. She turned around and before she could speak a word, a gunshot was fired and grazed her shoulder. Her eyes widened and she spun around, but just barely caught a glimpse of Charon stepping in front of her and aimed at the Raider that shot her. Laughter and screams of pain echoed in the large, underground area. Charon's shotgun nearly made her go deaf as she watched him ruthlessly slaughter everything that posed a threat to her. "Coward!" the ghoul screamed at a fleeing Raider before firing his shotgun once more to murder him. The four Raiders were dead within minutes and Charon, holstering his gun, turned toward her in the middle of the destruction and gore the battle had caused, and wiped his hands on his pants. "Good enough?"

Silence ensued inside the subway, just as it was meant to when the bombs fell upon D.C. Flood looked around the lobby area as if she were examining his work and kicked a chunk of arm Charon had blown from the Raider that shot her, watching it roll down the unmoving escalator. She hummed. Charon felt like an idiot the way she looked at his mess. He took her scrutinizing manner as disapproval and made a note to be less forthcoming with his slaughter when the next time came.

"Why do you need to ask?" Charon's eyes locked with hers as she looked up and raised an eyebrow. "You killed people to keep me safe. Does it matter how messy it is? I personally couldn't give two shits on how the place looks after you kill a few people." The mercenary felt relief. She wasn't as nit-picky as a previous employer he'd once had. The man told him to kill people without letting them bleed too much, otherwise he'd make Charon clean the floors with his shirt if he was too messy. Which was unfortunate because the man instructed Charon to use his shotgun more often than his combat knife.

"Understood, miss." Helen looked at him and sighed heavily.

"Do you really have to call me 'miss' all the time? Can't you just call me by my name?" she asked, rubbing her hands together to keep warm in the cold, dark tunnels.

Charon the mercenary ghoul stepped toward her, away from the gore and destruction he had caused and stood before her as if he were a soldier awaiting his next order. "Do you want me to call you by name instead?"

Flood shrugged. "Well, I mean, I know about your brainwashing stuff and I wasn't sure if it was required by your contract to call me 'miss'. It was an honest question, I think."

"It is not required as a rule. If you wish for me to call you something other than miss, then I shall call you something different." he said to her. Flood bit her lower lip and looked around at the bloody body parts of the recently annihilated raiders.

"Do you want to call me miss?"

"Would you prefer if I called you that?"

She sighed and shrugged. "It's up to you. You're the one saying it."

"You are the one hearing it." Charon was becoming annoyed. If she didn't wish to be called 'miss' then she merely had to say so. If she did want him to, then what was the problem?

"Okay, how about this," she began, turning to face him fully and placed her hands on her hips. "Call me miss whenever we're in one of the more crowded situations and Flood anywhere else. Sound good? That way people know you work for me and we can keep this professionally...professional."

Charon nodded in silent acceptance of her instruction. When there are people, call her miss. When out of the public eye, call her Flood. That worked for him.

Flood nodded her head to herself and started walking to where they came. "By the way, I was on my way to the Museum of Technology. We didn't need to be down here at all." she informed him. Charon was confused. Very confused.

"Then why did we come down here?" he asked, following her back to the surface.

"To see if you were good at killing threats. I needed to know if you were worth 1500 caps."

And worth it he was.

The whole thing may take a while to update, but everything is planned out. This isn't my first fanfiction. I will respond to all of your reviews at the beginning of the next chapter. If you don't like my pairing, my writing style, or anything else, then just don't read it. I appreciate constructive criticism, not flames. I hope you enjoy my fanfiction! ~UP789