Larry's Lucky Break
A/N: So I've never actually played Fallout: New Vegas, although I've played Fallout, Fallout 2, and Fallout 3. Forgive me if there are any inconsistencies. This is also my first posting to , so I hope all the formatting and such takes.
I am a huge fan of the Fallout: Nuka Break fan series, and seeing as it already has a couple of fics written for it, I present to you another fanfic for a fan film. Nuka Break is such an epic fan film it hardly seems right to call it such.
I have a really big thing for ghouls, OK? I can see I'm not alone here, so here's a bit of standard ghoul smut (if you just want the smut, skip to Chapter 2) involving Larry from the Nuka Break fan film. I apparently also have a thing for his aviator cap *growl.*
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"Whoa, whoa, back off! I'm not a Raider!"
Scar and Twig lower their weapons and shoot each other a glance.
"Christ! You guys bust into everybody's houses like this?" The woman lowers her rifle, spits on the ground and raises her blue eyes to them defiantly.
"Sorry, we didn't-" Twig is cut off by Scar's elbow in his ribs.
"This is your house?" Scar asks dubiously.
"Well, no, but it coulda been. I've been laid up here a couple days resting this bad arm." The woman's defensive posture relaxes slightly as she rolls her roughly bandaged left shoulder and winces.
"What happened?"
"Raiders. Took two of 'em out with this," she drawls, indicating the dusty Sniper Rifle now slung over her right shoulder, "but one of 'em snuck up on me. Took a combat knife to the shoulder."
"Ow!" Twig winces sympathetically. Scar rolls her eyes at him.
"What're you doing here?" the woman asks, eyes narrowed.
"Headed south, looking for a place to spend the night. This looks like the only shelter in the area," Scar says matter-of-factly.
"I was lookin' for bigger picture."
"There's four in our group. That's Twig-" she nods at the Vaultie, "-I'm Scar, and waiting outside are Bonnie and Larry. We fought Caesar's Legion at the Lockre and now we're trying to find Bonnie's home."
The woman regards them for a beat. She likes Scar so far, likes her attitude. The Vault kid looks too soft for the Wastes, but she's heard of the battle of the Lockre, so maybe he's not as green as he looks-which still isn't saying much.
"Huh. Well, y'all seem civil enough." She tosses her gray-streaked blonde hair out of her suntanned face. "The name's Alex." She offers a hand to Scar, whom she's picked out as the leader of the group, and extends it to Twig second. The kid has a surprisingly firm handshake and even says 'nice to meet you.'
Alex hasn't heard such a formality in years, it's actually kind of touching.
"Tell you what, if your group wants to bed down here for the night, I've got firewood and plenty of food to share. What I could really use is a Stimpack for this shoulder, though, you got any?"
"I think Bonnie or Larry might," Twig says, brightening at the prospect of a good meal. The Wastes have slimmed him over the course of several months; his fast metabolism burns fuel quicker than he can take it in, leaving him almost constantly hungry.
Alex shrugs.
"Hell, even if you don't, I've got more than I can eat. It'd be nice having some company-been wandering alone since my dog died. I don't own the place-just actin' like I do, you know, in case y'all were Slavers or ne'er-do-wells or what have you."
"Hey, you gotta be careful," Scar admits, offering a small smile.
"I'll go get 'em, Scar," Twig offers helpfully, turning to give their companions the all-clear. Alex is already over by the remains of a small fire, uncovering the embers and feeding them small fragments of wood from the partially caved-in roof. Scar opens her bag to start making arrangements for the night, keeping one eye on Alex. The woman looks to be a little older than them-well, excepting Larry, and Scar realizes they haven't mentioned that one of their companions is a ghoul. Too late now, as Twig is already coming back inside with Bonnie in tow, Larry presumably lagging behind.
"Bonnie, this is Alex. Alex, our friend Bonnie."
Alex stands from her fire-tending and leans forward to favor Bonnie with a wide smile that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle and another handshake. The older woman reads a lifetime of fear and forced submission on the younger girl's face, and clasps Bonnie's hand warmly between both of hers.
"Make yourself comfortable, honey. We'll be puttin' on a good feed tonight." Alex's injury has not prevented her from carefully using her sniper rifle, with which she is a crack shot. Two days holed up with nothing to do but watch for game has left her with a good stockpile of meat, which she had planned to smoke-but sharing it with this group of personable young people is just as appealing. Her sharp eye catches movement at the door; this must be the fourth companion-what'd they say his name was? Alex's eyes widen and her lips part slightly as the tall figure walks rather stiff-leggedly into sight. Scar notices her reaction, wondering if there's about to be an explosion. Larry doesn't seem to care much for 'smoothskins' in the first place, let alone racist ones.
"Damn, if you ain't a tall, cool drink of water," Alex drawls as Larry enters the room. Scar and Bonnie exchange a tense glance as Twig looks on.
"Excuse me?" Larry rasps, stopping in his tracks and shooting the woman a filthy look. Alex seems completely unruffled.
"I just gave you a compliment, and here's another. Nice hat. I'm Alex."
Larry sizes up the woman in an instant. Maybe forty, maybe less-the sun and wind of the Wastes aren't kind to smoothskins. Rifle easy on the shoulder that isn't all cut to hell, been there a long time, the sling's actually molded to her rack. A killer, sure, but probably not the type to get a rise out of it. A wanderer, probably crazy from the goddamn heat-
"Larry, be nice," Scar growls dangerously.
The ghoul rolls his eyes and his head simultaneously at Scar and mock-bows to Alex.
"Lawrence Snyder. There, that good enough?" he huffs the second part at Scar. He's probably gonna catch hell for it, but every part of his body goddamn hurts and he's been wondering if trekking around on a wild goose chase with a bunch of idealistic kids was really such a good idea after all.
"You prefer Lawrence, Larry, or Mr. Snyder?" asks Alex, deadpan.
"Anything but Lar," he rasps, popping his neck with a wince and a sigh of relief.
"All right, sugar," Alex nods.
That gets a reaction out of him, but Alex has already turned her attention to Twig. Scar turns her face away from Larry to hide her sudden smile. The expression on the ghoul's face was priceless.
"Say Twig, would you grab those iron bars over there? We're going to set up a spit right here." Alex hunkers by the fire, which Scar has meanwhile stoked to a nice blaze.
"Is that something you carry with you?" asks Bonnie softly as Twig struggles with the heavy metal apparatus. Alex chuckles.
"Well, Peaches used to carry it for me before she died. My dog," she adds at Bonnie's questioning look. "Now I carry it, 'least I will when my shoulder's healed up."
"Yeah, why don't you tell us how to put this thing together so you don't have to? Y'know, with your arm and all," says Twig considerately.
Alex agrees and directs Twig and Bonnie in the assembly of the spit while Scar gets up and follows Larry, who has skulked off to a corner.
"Larry, I know you've got a Stimpack. Alex needs it."
"Why should I give away my Stimpack?" Larry smirks.
"Because she's feeding us. All of us. And frankly, we could use the extra protection for the night."
"I'll throw in a back rub, sugar," Alex chimes in from across the room. Larry startles visibly. Christ, that woman must have the ears of a bat. And did she just wink at him? This is fucking embarrassing.
"It would be returning a gesture of goodwill. We don't have a lot to offer," Scar murmurs through clenched teeth.
"Fine. Whatever." Larry produces the Stimpack and walks over to Alex, mostly to get away from the visual daggers Scar is sinking into him, and holds out the device to her.
"Um. Would you, if you don't mind? It's kind of awkward to reach." Alex indicates her bandaged shoulder. Larry is delighted to wordlessly punch the needle into Alex's wound. In two centuries of life as a ghoul, he's encountered this type-smoothskin women who like to poke fun by teasing. Alex hisses at the jab of the Stimpack but does not flinch. Larry notices hatch marks scratched into the stock of the woman's rifle. Lots of hatch marks. Just fuckin' great.
"Yeah, that feels good," she growls through clenched teeth.
Stimpacks don't feel good. They hurt. A lot. Especially the way Larry's giving this one. Well, two can play her game.
"You into pain, smoothskin? Ha."
"I've had more'n my share."
Though he'd never admit it, Larry can't help but agree as he removes the needle. His leg is howling from two recent gunshot wounds, not to mention older injuries acting up, not to mention then the constant joint pain that comes with the condition. Alex swivels on her seat, looking up at the tall, slender ghoul as he tosses the empty Stimpack away.
"Thanks. Once this has a chance to kick in, let me know when you'd like that back rub."
"Yeah. Right." Larry turns away after one glance down at her, realizing there's no way he can do so without getting an eyeful of her comely chest. Fuck. The bitch of it is, it goddamn works every time-the teasing. He's so fucking sick of it.
His glance and pointed dismissal don't escape Alex's perceptive eye. She takes note of it for later-there is work to be done now. The younger ones have got the spit set up and the fire blazing.
