Note: Thanks for pointing that out, Luke! I don't know what came over me! This is what happens when you study too much. GUH. Thanks again.
Tonight as he lay down on the worn mattress in the satellite dish of SatCom NN-03d, he was thinking about how he should… stay awake. To keep watch… For raiders. Not for planets or stars. Or the constellations of old scars and freckles on her uneven patches of skin.
She showed him pictures from an astronomy book. It was about the celestial heavens and constellations and whatever scientific things the world was concerned about before the bombs hit. Her new interest was the reason why they were here at the top of the Wastes, trying to get a glimpse of 'our moon'. At one point she had been so excited that she ran into his room and mowed him over as she pushed the book into his face.
"Look. You're Pluto's moon," she said breathlessly with a victorious grin on her face. There was a cut on one of her fingers as she pointed at the picture of Charon, Pluto's moon. As he stared at the picture, he saw it was a moon that was heavily cratered, dark coloured with even darker patches, broken and fractured with deep scars on its crust and… it was ugly. It was as imperfect as he was.
She spent the night beside him, telling him facts about the moon and how 'Charon always followed his planet around even if it was kicked out from the solar system'. At the same time, he was committing to memory the image of a moon following his planet. Getting in the way of harm from comets or asteroids or interstellar debris that might hit his planet. Keeping her safe as he continuously orbited around her. Even though his planet had other moons, he was the one who was there for her. He'd do so willingly.
"See anything yet?" her voice travelled up to him as she opened the hatch and climbed up to the satellite dish. She had a smear of blood on her armour again. Probably she never even noticed it. She had the tendency to be covered in it. He shook his head no. She stripped out of her armour, staring up at the sky in the process, revealing her skin to him. It wasn't the first time he saw her nudity, the hint of her breasts under her shirt, the old Deathclaw scratch marks across her torso, the soft hairs on her legs and her fading bruises. "It's probably the new moon phase. We can't see the moon tonight." She sat beside his body. He found himself comparing the freckles on her back to the sky above. There was a twitch in his nerves as he realised how badly he wanted to trace a constellation there, dot by dot.
"What's the moon's name?" he found himself asking.
"Luna. She's the original one."
"The moon is a she?" He let slip another question, as he lifted himself up away from an eyeful of skin.
"I just thought that a woman would stay by her man's side no matter what. The moon is sort of like that isn't she?" An odd peaceful smile made a way to her face. "There are other moons with names, though. Io, Ganymede, Europa, Callisto. Those are Jupiter's moons," her voice trailed off. He watched her list out all the exotic sounding names. "And then, there's you, Charon, the only masculine moon I know. Pluto's moon." She teased him, a small amused smile on her face. "Pluto's bodyguard."
"No, boss, I'm yours."
She stared openly at him for a long time before kneeling and placing her lips on his ruined ones.
"Yeah. My own personal moon."
Tonight as he lay down on the worn mattress in the satellite dish of SatCom NN-03d, he was thinking about how he didn't want to sleep. To keep watch over his Pluto that's sleeping on him. Because she miscalculated the moon phases.