Pure, unadulterated cheesy romance and smut. You have been warned, and I feel no shame.

It was another brisk night in the Capital Wasteland. A cyborg, a huge ghoul, and the Hero of the Wastes were all climbing a steep, metal staircase to a platform at the top of the Citadel. The girl trailed happily after the black woman, her teeth glinting brilliantly in the moonlight. She was so excited to get in the pilot's seat of one of those vertibirds that her hands were twitching.

The ghoul took his time, his expression distant. She glanced eagerly back at him and he shot her a heavy smirk, but she could sense that his mind was miles away. She asked him if he was okay, and he replied calmly that he was, that she should just shut up and pay attention so they didn't crash the second they lifted into the air.

That seemed to mollify her and she skipped the last few steps to the platform. The ghoul grumbled under his breath as, for good or ill, he followed.

Gob had better have come through for me, or I swear on my life, I will kill him.

"Er, ah, God, Nova, hold on."

"Mmn, baby, why?" the redhead groaned, pulling away to study him in confusion. "I thought you were going to 'fuck the shit' out of me?"

Gob smiled weakly at her and jesus, when she smiled at him like that, all high cheekbones and pale skin and those fiery gray eyes and those lips sweet fuck those lips, he would forget all over again what he had to get done. Charon's threatening scowl flashed through his mind and he shrugged away from his smoothskin with a shudder. "I gotta do something for Charon, otherwise he will tear my legs off and beat me over the head with them."

Nova laughed huskily. "Is that verbatim?"

"You bet your sweet ass it is." He swayed, momentarily distracted by the thought of how sweet that ass was, before he shook his head clear and traipsed across the lobby for Charon's room. "You want to help?"

"Sure thing, baby. And as soon as we're done. . . ." she trailed off pointedly, thin brows arched to get her point across.

"I'm all yours," he promised quite sincerely, his hand delving into his pocket as he pushed the door open and they snuck inside.

Leah was still laughing when she ran out of the elevator and sprinted for her room. It would take some time for the elevator to reach the bottom and carry Charon all the way back up, so she had the opportunity to slip into some sexy clothes and surprise him. In her life, amid the misery and pain and frustration and blood and gunpowder, these moments were what she cherished the most, when she could let her guard down and please her man and just be a normal twenty-two-year-old for once. It was liberating, to forget about all the pressures and obligations for once. She was a best friend, a lover, a mother of thirteen, a goddamn fucking hero, and she hadn't even hit twenty-five yet. It was exhausting, being all of those things at once.

The door to her room was ajar, which was odd. Her smile faded into a frown and she drew her rifle from the strap on her shoulder. She pushed the door further open with the barrel of her gun and stepped cautiously into the room, tapping the button for the lights.

Nobody. Leah instantly relaxed and set her rifle down, letting her bag slump onto the dining room table. There was a note waiting there for her and, absentmindedly, she read it over, focused more on unbuckling the straps of her armor. Maybe Nova had been in her room earlier to borrow something and left a message to let her know.

However, as she read the words one more time, Leah realized that the message was not in Nova's looping cursive. The straight, meticulous lines were unmistakably Charon's script.

Because you are kind, the note read.

Leah frowned and picked the scrap of paper up, flipping it over to read the other side in confusion.

Bookcase.

Itching with curiosity, her half-undone armor completely forgotten, Leah held onto the note and tentatively crossed to the bookcase. Among the many faded spines of mostly-intact books she and Charon had collected over the years, there were countless spots where another piece of paper could hide. Her brow twitched as intuition struck and her eyes flickered immediately over to the battered copy of Hamlet on the third shelf from the bottom. The tail of another slip of paper was peeking out just beneath the book and she smiled as she slid it out.

Because you are smart, this one read. Feeling her cheeks burn as her heart skipped a beat, Leah quickly turned it over to find Desk scrawled on the other side. Now with no hesitation, she rushed over the messes she had left strewn across the floor (Charon was nearly obsessive compulsive when it came to being neat; the same, unfortunately, could not be said about her) to the desk nestled against the opposite wall. The metal surface was cluttered from end to end with bits of weapons, old books, pencils, bottles, cups. She tucked the two notes into her pocket so both of her hands were free to sift through the wreckage. She tried the drawers; the first one was locked, the other two empty. She returned to the top of the desk. One of her hands bumped a large book off of the table. She cursed when it hit the floor with a loud whump, but froze as the sound of metal skittering across the floor sounded after. She rounded the desk and crouched down, flipping the open book to its front page.

It was her copy of the D.C. Journal of Internal Medicine. Her eyes scanned the floor around it and spotted the twinkle of artificial light glinting against metal. She snatched up the key, which must have been tucked between the pages, and returned to the locked drawer. It unlocked and she slid it impatiently open, her heart squeezing in relief when another piece of paper was waiting for her inside. Fingers trembling, she picked it up and drank in the sight of the next message.

Because you have enlightened me.

And the other side, Wardrobe.

Leah nearly tore the door of the wardrobe open and scanned its contents, pushing desperately through the clothing and armor hanging within. It wasn't until she turned away to check the note still sitting in the drawer that she noticed the chipped mirror hanging within the wardrobe door – and the piece of paper tucked in a side of its frame.

Because you are beautiful, it informed her matter-of-factly. She watched the wonder warm her face in the mirror before she pulled the note out to check the other side.

Balcony.

The balcony doors could not open fast enough. She stepped out, her breath momentarily taken away by the beautiful sight of the stars splattered across the night sky. She found an empty coffee mug keeping another slip of paper pinned down to the railing on the balcony. Tears sprang to her eyes at this message.

Because you have freed me.

And then, on the other side, Stop crying, Leah, and check the bed.

Laughing under her breath, she stumbled inside and to the bed. Nearly hidden between the pillows was another paper, this one folded in half. Her hands were shaking so violently that she had trouble unfolding it.

Because you are amazing in bed.

Warmth crept up her neck and she swallowed away the sudden jitters.

Footlocker.

She toed open the metal case resting just near her feet and took in the sniper rifle within. She knelt down and picked up the gun, admiring its great condition, its spotless metal. Inspection finished, she set it aside and found the next message waiting beneath it.

Because you are a great shot and it is kind of arousing to watch you kill things.

Her laughter took her surprise, especially how it wobbled through her now rampant tears.

Night table.

The next message was waiting behind the picture of ten-year-old Leah and her father. The photo always gave her a pang of heady emotion, but this time she didn't even notice it as she picked up the frame and pushed it out of the way.

Because you are so strong.

And then,

Almost there. Jewelry box.

That one was particularly sneaky. He must have snuck into her jewelry box sometime while she hadn't been looking, because she'd opened it just this morning to get her flower necklace and put it on beneath her armor like she did every day. She found the flat box in her bag and popped the lid off impatiently.

Because you are mine.

The simple message made her lightheaded. She put a hand out against the dining room table to steady herself. All she could hear was her pulse hammering away in her ears as she flipped the note over.

Doorway.

Leah inhaled shakily and turned around. She didn't know how long Charon had been standing there in the door frame, watching her. She didn't know how he'd managed to set this whole thing up. She didn't know where he'd gotten such a severe romantic streak. All she knew was that she was racing over and leaping up into his arms, kissing him so hard that it hurt and feeling him chuckle underneath her lips.

"Charon," she blubbered incoherently, squeezing him tightly, "how did you – it's so – I can't –,"

"You're not finished," he informed her carefully.

She pulled away and stared up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Charon's smile wavered before he pulled one last folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. It was heavy in her palms. She glanced uncertainly up at him, and he didn't look any surer than she felt as he nodded at her. Her quivering fingers gently peeled the piece of paper open, exposing one last message and a beautifully crafted silver ring nestled within it.

Because I am yours.

"Oh, God," she whispered, the words choked out from her suddenly very dry throat. She held the ring up between her index finger and thumb. It was warm from where it had waited patiently within his pocket. Her blue eyes were swimming with tears when they finally met his. "Are these the reasons that you love me?" she guessed through another sob.

"Yes," he answered in a short syllable. He pulled uncomfortably at his collar, fidgeted, cleared his throat, looked away. "There are more reasons than that, obviously," he explained with an awkward splaying of his broad hands, "and it was, ah, Nova's idea. I didn't know how to – I mean, since I had never presented you with a ring, and that is customary and I'm not sure –,"

"God, shut up," she gasped fervently and then she was kissing him again. "It's beautiful, so beautiful," she murmured over and over, "so cheesy, but so beautiful."

He laughed again and the sound was full of relief. "I'm glad, smoothskin."

"I love you. I love you, God, I love you."

"I know," he chuckled. He took the ring from the crumpled note in her fist and held up to her left hand. She held her breath when he slid the silver band onto her third finger, but it fit perfectly. "No faith in me," he teased with a shake of his head and a smirk. "I think I know your hands well enough to have gotten it down by now, smoothskin."

"You made it yourself?"

"I did," he confirmed proudly. "It took me a long time and I, ah, have a lot of failed attempts banging around annoyingly in the bottom of my bag, but eventually I got it."

"It's perfect," she breathed, touching the ring where it sat so comfortably on her finger. It had been made to be there, destined from the start, and there it would stay.

Charon's smile twisted into a smirk. "I was kind of hoping this would be the part where we had sex."

"It is." Leah was already attacking the remaining buckles of her armor. Charon slammed the door and lurched forward, picking her up by the waist. She wrapped her thighs around his hips and they made their way unsteadily to the bed. Their bodies hit bed sheets, cool from lying untouched for so long, but the sensation barely registered in their minds.

"How did you – set this whole thing up?" Leah panted, shimmying out of her armor and clothes. "I mean, we just got back today."

"I had Gob do it," he mumbled and then his mouth was very busy attending to the sensitive skin of her throat.

"Gob?" she asked, shocked. "He did this?"

Charon lifted his head and his expression was wary. "Can we not talk about Gob right now?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Feel free to continue."

"I will," he promised, returning to the dark hickeys he was leaving all up and down the sides of her neck. The air between their bodies, his suspended above hers, was thickened with the desire that laced through their muscles, bodies tensed taut like a wire, ready to snap at any moment. The thundering affection that had recently swollen in her heart had morphed into something wholly different, but not unwelcome. Passion possessed her thoughts, her soul, so that she was scratching at his armor, his clothes, until her hands splayed against hot, rough skin and yes, that was what she needed. Charon seemed content to continue littering every inch of available skin with the red blossoms of love bites, but it wasn't enough. Leah sank her fingernails into his shoulders and pushed, nudging his left hip with her right thigh in wordless indication of her desires.

He instantly recognized what she wanted and rolled over onto his back. Licking her lips, Leah flipped over to straddle him. The bulge of his arousal beneath his leather pants rose up to meet her center, warm and wet through the thin cotton of her underwear. She braced herself with her hands against the hard muscle of his pectorals and threw her head back, black hair cascading over her shoulders. Her thick lips parted around white teeth, a soft moan rumbling in her throat and the sound was saturated with need and desire.

Charon clenched his teeth; his erection was straining within the confines of his pants, aching for freedom, for friction of any kind. When she began to slowly rock back and forth, dragging the heat of her arousal over his stiff member, he sucked in a hard breath. The thickness of his pants numbed the sensation, hinting at how good it would feel but denying him the pleasure he knew it could be. He fisted his hands in the blankets beneath him, itching to grab her by the hips and bring her harder down onto him; if she wanted that, she'd let him know somehow.

She draped her bare chest over his and a gasp hitched in her throat at the feeling of his leathery skin playing against the stiffened nubs of her nipples. Her breath spilled out hot against his neck in a few hungry words that he couldn't make out past the drugging effect desire had on his mind, how badly he could burn to hold her down and sink deep into her flesh, hear her squeal, watch her melt and shudder through climax. It took all of his restraint to fight all of his instincts and lie back, passively, allowing her to take control – even after all of these years, it was difficult. Perhaps, after suffering two centuries of slavery, it made it hard to give up even the smallest semblances of control; the reason didn't matter. All that mattered was that Leah was currently nipping and kissing and licking her way down the ruined skin of his chest. His muscles twitched beneath her attention, stomach undulating with each ragged breath that he struggled to draw into his lungs.

She drank in the sight of him for a long moment. Jesus, he was really ripped. Adoring hands smoothed over hard abdominals, pectorals, biceps – every muscle that could possibly be strengthened was at its full capacity and she really, really loved the sight of it all laid out in front of her.

With a blur of motion, she undid both of his belts and tossed them carelessly over her shoulder. They landed somewhere behind the bed with loud clangs, but the noise didn't even register in his senses as he raptly watched her pull his pants down. She let the material bunch at his ankles in favor of returning to his hips, where the full length of his hardened arousal had flopped awkwardly to one side. She grabbed hold of him and settled on her knees and free hand. Blue eyes flashed up to meet his and there was almost a challenge searing in that crystalline gaze. She was going to drive him out of his mind, make him lose control, get him to completely surrender to his desires and there was nothing he could do about it.

Before his mind could even process that information, her pink tongue appeared from between red lips and ran a light, slow stroke up the underside of his length. It wasn't much and it wasn't even close to being enough to even begin to assuage the ache sizzling through his veins, but it was finally something and something was better than nothing. A muscle jumped in his cheek as he gritted his teeth, the muscles of his arms bulging as he tightened his hold on the bed sheets. He blinked the haze of desire from his eyes to watch Leah glance up at him, a smirk lifting her lips, before parting those beautiful lips and closing them around the tip of his length, her tongue applying pressure as she sank down and down and down and fuck, after all these years together she could nearly take all of him into her mouth and it was really, really amazing that she could do that. He could feel her tongue moving against him as she pulled back up, the suction of her working her warm mouth.

Vaguely, he could feel her moving her body, a slight shifting barely recognizable through the sharp pleasure, and then he felt wet heat against the shin of his right leg. His mind addled with ecstasy, it was hard to make sense of the foreign sensation. It took him longer than it should have to realize she was stroking herself on his leg. The fact that she started panting and mewling as she took him into her mouth was what eventually clicked it into place for him. To make it easier for her, he tensed his legs – already twitching sporadically from the pleasure she was bringing him. As if in gratitude, she took him particularly deep so that he felt himself hit the back of her throat.

All of his muscle-straining self-control, the taut wire stringing through his body, the restraint to allow her to take control for once . . . all of it snapped. His hands ran through her hair, guiding her away despite the lack of sharp pleasure that this action led to. She lifted her head to make eye contact, her swollen lips parted in confusion. She crawled her way up his body until she was suspended above him and they could share a rough kiss. Her tongue sought his and he opened for her. He grabbed her by the thighs and flipped them both back over, surprising her into a gasp that got lost within their kiss. He pressed her back against the bed to indicate that she was to stay put and, lips twitching upward, she nodded to indicate she understood. He palmed her thighs and angled them upward so that he could kneel below them.

Over four years, Charon had learned every up, down, left, right, and U-turn of Leah's body. It was second nature to lick and suckle at her folds, savor her taste, find every spot that he knew would drive her wild. Sharp electricity coursed from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head, heating her from the inside out, flaring out to the ends of her fingers, making them twitch and grab at whatever she could, the scarce strands of hair on his head, the hard muscles of his shoulders, the tangled, torn bed sheets beneath her. It wasn't long before the sensations began to build and her hips were flexing as she chased her peak, the heat intensifying, pressure multiplying, and his hands gripped her hips, holding her in place, and the last few passes of his tongue over her clit had her spiraling into the electric flames of orgasm.

Charon rose to kiss her and she tasted herself on his tongue, musky and warm. It was then that she felt the tip of his member brush against her sensitive, throbbing center and with one swift motion he bucked into her. Her mind was still reeling with pleasure when he rolled them over, landing her sitting upright with him seated firmly within her. She planted her hands against the straining muscles of his abdomen and began to move, delirious in the lunacy of rapture, her body developing a pattern as she sought out her peak. The wild spark of passion in his blue eyes lit the fire within her and she moved her hips with a ferocity that made them both exhale in the shock of pleasure. His hands clamped down on her hips, guiding her, stabilizing her, keeping her upright as each gyration she made allowed his hard length to hit every sweet spot on its way and threatened to make her entire body give out from the mindless ecstasy of it all. Her toes curled against the soles of her feet, sweat sticking her dark hair to her skin. Charon was captivated by the sight of her shining skin, her bottom lip red and swollen from her teeth biting down on it, her breasts full and heaving with each of her gasping breaths, the pull and pressure of her tight walls around him. God, she was so beautiful. Thin cords of muscle rolled beneath her gorgeous tan skin, stomach twitching from the pleasure and the grinding of her hips. She was thin, but she was strong, pale hands clutching at his shoulders with long nails biting into his skin. She was so good and she was all his, his and no one else's and if he fucked her until he had a heart attack and died then it would be a hell of a way to fucking go and he would have regretted nothing.

"I – I'm not going to last –," she panted, leaning back and holding herself up with her hands on either side of his knees. The shifting of her position allowed his length to hit the perfect angle and the rolling pressure burst within her. Her climax felt like heat, fire, spanning every inch of her skin, leaving her shaking and shuddering, her wetness coating his length.

There was nothing hotter than watching Leah in the throes of orgasm and he knew the instant her climax began that he stood no chance. His hold on her hips tightened hard enough to bruise as he let out a feral growl and reached his peak, filling her, the burning ecstasy of his orgasm spreading from the tip of his length to the very ends of his hands and feet, searing every stressed muscle, each knot of tension in his body into nonexistence as it went.

Leah couldn't hold herself up any longer. She collapsed against his chest, hair splaying out, and waited to regain her breath – and her sanity – before she even tried to speak. Charon weakly stroked her back, brushing wet strands of hair away from her sweat-slick skin.

Silence settled in the room, interrupted only by the sound of their heavy breathing, the air thickened with the smell of sweat and sex. Finally Leah stirred, rolling herself off of his chest to spread out beside him, side by side, both of them staring up at the ceiling.

Leah was grinning like a moron. They'd come so far, the two of them, both separately and together. Not five years ago, Charon had been standing in that godforsaken corner throwing out drunk ghouls and slowly losing his soul to oblivion and Leah had been trapped beneath the ground, destined to a life of white-washed metal walls and disappointments leading to severe depression. And now here they were, tangled together on a huge bed, tan skin overlapping the red of exposed muscle, while the family they had brought together slept in the rooms around them. The universe had taken two completely different people and joined them, made up for its shortcomings with this perfect union of two people destined to be together. Fate had not been kind, to either of them, to anyone, but where before it had failed it succeeded now. They were the first step toward redemption. They were the first step toward hope.

She spread out her left hand above them and admired the silver ring there, where, conceivably, it would remain until the day she died. Then her hand found Charon's at her side, where he would remain, undoubtedly, until the end of time itself.

And somehow, as he turned his head and met her gaze and smiled that earth-shattering, soul-shaking Charon smile . . . it didn't quite seem long enough.