First Fallout fanfiction!

Luna

Reality can leave you on the ground in a bloody heap. But it helps if there's someone around to pick you up and put the pieces back together. CourierXBoone, rated M for language. Please please please read and review!

For those of you who don't think Boone is attractive, just pretend he's hotter than he actually is. Please review so I know if this is any good xD. I gave this an M rating just to be safe.. I think there's only like one f-word so far. :D

I'll be putting up more chapters depending on feedback, so.. don't hurt my feelings too much. thankssssss

I'm settled at a warm campfire on a starry night, feeling sleepy and comfortable.

A handsome man sits close to me. His black hair is long and tousled, reaching his earlobes. The firelight illuminates his gently smiling face, and I can't help feeling exhilarated when I realize his smile is directed at me. My heart beats faster in delight.

We are alone, and a surge of unexpected bliss runs through me. He puts a strong arm around my shoulders and I feel myself pressing against him. I gaze up into his dark eyes in wonder. The guilt I see there, only for an instant, tells me this is wrong.

But how could something that feels so right be wrong? He smiles again, and like magic I'm at peace again.

That smile.

So familiar, yet so much like a distant memory. I live off his smile; it fills me with life.

I close my eyes contentedly and lean by head against his chest. It's firm, yet comforting, and I feel at home.

But these perfect moments are fleeting.

He stiffens suddenly and leans forward, his arm now missing from my lonely shoulders. I reach for him cautiously, but he isn't looking. He stares past me with narrowed eyes, into the darkness.

"Did you hear that?" he asks with suspicion.

I jolted awake as an explosion sounded in the distance. I sat up in a panic, heart pounding. After a few seconds the location registers in my mind. The night was cold against my skin, reminding me of who wasn't there anymore.

That dream again…

"Boone, was that…?" I asked in a low voice.

"Shh."

He was crouched on the ground, eyes trained on the dark wasteland, waiting. His back was to me, the moonlight dimly illuminating his tense form. I tried to stay silent.

"Boone—?"

I was cut off by a second explosion, not 30 feet from our tiny camp.

Long-range rocket launcher, I guessed, judging from the size of the explosion.

Maybe a split-second after it impacted the dry earth, Boone had grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. I stumbled behind him, my mind still cloudy with sleep. I barely remembered to grab my sword.

"Get ready," he grunted, expertly aiming his rifle.

My mind cleared as I prepared for a fight. We slowly backed away from our invisible assailants, eyes focused on the dimly lit wasteland. After a few seconds, they appeared through the smoke of their badly aimed blasts: raiders, on another random rampage.

They laughed manically, probably high, and jabbed the air with their knives, as I charged at them with my bumper sword.

They stopped laughing when it broke their faces.

Boone easily took down the carrier of the inaccurate rocket launcher, a few more followers wielding assault rifles, and the fight was over. I couldn't help but be proud of the efficiency of our teamwork.

Over just a few weeks, Boone and I had learned each other's strengths and weaknesses.

We watched each other's backs, and so far we hadn't lost.

"They have… chems. And some caps," I said, looting their corpses. "And stimpacs!"

"Good. We're running low," Boone commented passively, picking up the campsite. "We have to move. There might be more around."

I nodded in agreement and began packing up.

"Besides, you could use more sleep," he added, hoisting the bedroll over his shoulder.

I followed him, as always, like a puppy. Even though I had asked him to travel with me, he usually led when we traveled together. He must have been comfortable with leadership, or felt I wasn't qualified. I told him where we were going, but he got going first.

We were heading north, to Boulder City. Benny, supposedly, wasn't far.

I looked up at the moon as we walked. It was almost full, its white-blue surface shining brightly. To me, it was like a protective spirit. A powerful goddess watching over me night and, sometimes, day. I studied its bruises and shimmering glow with awe.

One misstep later and my face was in the cold desert sand, nose throbbing. I picked my head up and could see that Boone looking at me, his expression either amused or disapproving. Or both.

"…the fuck. Will you watch where you're walking?" he said, shaking his head. "Get up if you still want time to rest."

"You're so heartless," I said, spitting out sand. I picked myself up and dusted off my shorts. "You should be a little more concerned. If I die, you're practically homeless."

He grunted in response.

A while later, we made camp again alongside a rock formation. I started to get back into my bedroll, but paused as Boone yawned.

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep? I already got a few hours, and-!"

"No. Sleep." He settled on a rock with his back to me, adjusting his rifle.

I sighed and made myself comfortable.

"You know, it's not true," I said after several minutes of silence. "You wouldn't be homeless if I died. You can still stay at my place."

"Yeah," Boone said. His answers were always so vague.

"My place" was the abandoned Wolfhorn Ranch, where we had left from. About a month ago, I had met Boone in Novac and brought him to the ranch, where I kept my extra equipment. After helping Manny Vargas with his "ghoul problem," I added a spacesuit and Antler to my collection. The farmhouse was in no way luxurious, but it provided shelter and a water source. Plus, it was nice to have a place to return to. I thought about making the Novac suite my new home, given to me by Cliff Broscoe after Ms. Crawford was killed, but I doubted that Boone would want to go back to Novac after all that had happened.

As I closed my eyes, I thought about the elusive Benny. He might have been my only chance to find out about my past. It was a long shot, but knowing why he shot me might have been a clue as to where I came from. The only information I knew about myself was that I was previously employed as a courier, and I had carried a platinum chip. After that Benny guy had gone through so much trouble to take it from me, I felt obligated to get it back if not to just ruin his plans.

It seemed like a long way from the bedroll to the, rumor has it, very fashionable Benny. But falling asleep to the sound of Boone maintaining his gun made me think how glad I was to have some form of company.