I own nothing. All to Bethesda.
A/N...
So, I finally got Fallout 4 and it's eh. I like the base building, but I feel its been dumbed down when compared to the other Fallouts. But, I am happy that Starthaut made it into Fallout 4. I mean, the mentions of a Ghoul Blue Whale and my Starthaut is a mutated blue whale that commands a sea creature army. See the connections. Hey, Bethesda! Where are my royalties?!
Anyway. Warning: kissing, crying, and nakedness
Sarah Lyons sighs as she slips into the heated water. The heat washes over her form, easing muscles and washing her sculpted body. Her blond hair lies loose about her, floating and bobbing. When the Lone Wanderer had suggested this to her, she was hesitant to say the least. They were reeling from the return of the Enclave. They needed to be attacking their enemy instead of sitting on their hands. But the Lone Wanderer suggested otherwise. Rather than attacking blindly, they should gather forces and intelligence before marching against an unknown enemy.
Of course the Lone Wanderer was right; she always is. So, while the rest of the Brotherhood began scouting missions and training exercises, the Lone Wanderer squirreled Sarah away from the Citadel and into her Megaton home. Set up in the living room was a large metal bathtub, steaming with hot water. With a little coxing, the Lone Wanderer was able to get Sarah out of her armor and into the tub.
Relaxing further into the tub, she didn't hear the door open and the plodding of feet. "Mind if I join you?" A soft voice asked her. Opening her eyes and turning her head, she is greeted with the sight of the Lone Wanderer with a towel pressed against her bosom. Sarah's mouth opens wide as her eyes drink in the tight form of the Wanderer, up her shapely legs, along her sun-kissed skin, up to her glittering green eyes, and short brown hair.
Nodding lamely, Sarah scoots to the side, allowing the Wanderer to slink into the tub. She turns her head to allow the Wanderer some privacy as she enters. The Wanderer smirks at this gesture, settling into the water with a content sigh. Blushing madly, Sarah looks everywhere except towards the waster beauty before her. "So, uh. Thanks for the bath, Wanderer."
The Lone Wanderer smiles sweetly, causing butterflies in Sarah's stomach. "Of course, Sarah. Lord knows you need a little me-time." She reaches out and brushes a finger against Sarah's head, pushing a long golden lock behind a curved ear. Sarah shudders against the touch, closing her eyes briefly. The Lone Wanderer scoots closer to the warrior, sliding more of her fingers down her face and towards her neck. "Mind if I give you a massage? You look a little . . . tense." She whispers.
Stuttering, Sarah nods her head and scoots to bare her back to the Wanderer. While this would seem like a foolish action in such a deadly world, she trusts the Wanderer not to kill her. True, she barely knows the woman that is ten years her junior, but the intensity of her eyes makes her trustworthy. Of course, as the Wanderer's hands begin to knead and work out the sore muscles, the action of her touch caused her stomach to flip and a low moan to build in her throat. "Do . . . do you want to talk about what happened?" She stammers out, trying to distract her body from the amazing touch. "With your father, I mean."
All at once the massage stops, but the Wanderer does not pull her hands from Sarah's pale skin. Fearing she may have said something stupid, Sarah turns around to see the Wanderer's face scrunched up in pain and sorrow. Her eyes well up with tears and her lower jaw shakes with barely contained emotion. "Shit," Sarah curses softly. She snakes a hand out of the water to brush away the Wanderer's tears. "Wanderer, I'm sorry. I just thought that this would be a good time to talk about it. You haven't said anything about what happened and I was worried about you bottling it up. I didn't want you to be in danger because you put your emotions on the battlefield." Rolling her eyes, she goes to pull back and deny herself the touch of the Wanderer. "God, I'm such an idiot."
To her astonishment, Sarah is greeted with a watery laugh and the Wanderer's hands linking around her neck. "No, silly; you're not an idiot. And, I'm not crying because of losing my father. He was a dick, in all honesty." The Wanderer dips her head to catch Sarahs' eye. "You are the first person in a long while to ask me how I am. No one out there does that," she says with a tilt of her head towards the door. "To them, I'm just some waster. Just looking out for myself and doing as I please; an annoyance and a pleasing sight all at once. But you, Sarah, you see me as a person. And I forgot what that felt like." Breathing out to steady herself, the Wanderer closes her eyes to collect her thoughts.
"Oh, Wanderer," Sarah says softly. She brushes the other woman's eyes again, wiping away tears and smeared make-up. Her fingers linger on her face, tracing down her cheek and towards her lips. Gently, Sarah rubs the pad of her thumb along the Wanderer's lips. The Wanderer widens her eyes, looking from Sarah's hands and trailing up to the blush creeping upon the warrior's face. The Wanderer smirks and shifts closer.
"So, about that massage," she murmurs against Sarah's hand. Her hands pull back towards Sarah's neck, gently cupping the rough flesh. Slowly, she raises her hands upwards, lacing her fingers through the blond hair and massaging the scalp. Closing her eyes, Sarah brushes her knuckles against the Wanderer's cheek and moans softly. "You have to get rid of all this tension, Sarah." The Wanderer scoots closer, whispering into her ear. "It isn't healthy."
Sarah sighs and relaxes her shoulders, leaning into the exquisite touch of the Wanderer. "You're right. You're always right." She mumbles as she lowers her emotional armor, trusting herself in the Wanderer more than ever.
"Always?" The Wanderer hums, a giggle in her tone.
"Yes," Sarah says simply. She leans forward and rests her forehead against the Wanderers'. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?" The Wanderer asks, sliding her fingers out of the blonds' hair and tilting her head to the side. She moves her lips closer to the lion, daring to taste her ferocity.
"Be so perfect." Sarah opens her eyes and flicks them down to the Wanderer's lips. She bites her own bottom lip and glances back up at the glittering emerald eyes. Ever so slowly, the Wanderer closes the distance and brushes her lips with the lightest touch against those of the blond beauty before her. Sarah gasps, enjoying the smoothness of the Wanderer's lips sliding against her own. The lips continue on, leading up from the lips, across the cheek, and against the ear, breathing desire against Sarah's suddenly chilly body.
"That's how," the Wanderer moans into her ear.
