She wanted to go to Rivet City. She had managed to make her way into D.C. and find Three Dog by herself (Charon would give his left hand to someone who could figure that shit out), but Rivet City would be a bit different. He'd seen Noel handle mole rats, raiders, and even the occasional feral ghoul (those fuckers), but making her way to Rivet City would involve a lot more… muscle. There were super mutants all through those goddamn tunnels. And there were plenty of them. Looking back on it, Charon felt almost relieved that she had bought his contract off that son of a bitch Ahzrukhal, if only so that she didn't have to venture into the metros alone anymore. The thought of her making her way underground without him… well, it was like taping a great target to her belly and putting flashing lights around her neck while a loudspeaker blared, "Fresh meat! Come and get it!"
It surprised him at first (though he'd acclimated to it during their months together), but Noel tended to be uncharacteristically quiet as they ventured through the wastes. She was conscious of her environment, alert, and always had her rifle at the ready. Thankfully Charon had been able to switch her from the 10mm to a much more handy, and dangerous, Chinese assault rifle. Still, it was as though his new master couldn't stay serious for very long. After several minutes of methodological journeying, she would quickly spin around, smile at Charon, and then resume her lead. The action had always made Charon uneasy. He hated catching that small glimpse of her radiant face beaming at him. He hated himself more for wishing that she would do it more often. Noel had told him once that she just liked to make sure he was still there. It was a security thing she had said. Stupid girl, Charon had thought, it's not as though you can't hear me right behind you. Yet even now, he wished that he could walk silently, if only to see her wheel around, frightened, hoping that he was still behind her.
Charon was alarmed at how often he felt his mind wander to thoughts of his new master. He had previously been so precise, so controlled. Now, he was fighting a battle which was increasingly more difficult day by day – keeping focused on the task at hand. He wasn't used to extraneous thoughts distracting him from his duties, and was perturbed at the nature from which these trespassing thoughts centered. More and more he caught himself staring at his master. He wondered what she was thinking, where the smile on her blush lips came from, how her ivory skin would feel under his calloused hands. He would wander again and again, and would snap himself into place, only to be lost in those same thoughts almost immediately afterwards. When she looked into his eyes he was thankful for being a ghoul. Having Noel see him blush would be too much for even Charon to handle.
Still, he thought, it wasn't as though he were crazy. Noel was a sight to look at. Not like those other waste rats, or even other ghouls. Charon may have lived in Underworld, but he still preferred the company of his right hand to that of Underworld's female occupants. He wasn't a racist by any means, but he knew what ghouls were (resilient and familial) and knew what they were not (sexy by any means of the word). Most ghouls couldn't help but look at the humans they came across without some deep sense of longing. Humans reminded them of what they used to be, what they used to feel like. Pictures of pre-war human pinup girls and the stories that accompanied them (real or fictitious) were part of the daily rhetoric back in the Ninth Circle. When Noel had wandered into Underworld she had set more than a few ghoul tongues panting.
With a pang of jealously, Charon realized that he'd seen that look of longing, of want, in humans as well. Noel was downright pretty, though she didn't know it (or didn't act on it if she did know). She was petite, had a slender beautiful face with eyes that beamed and a smile that melted you right where you stood. Her light strawberry hair was soft and silky, and even tucked back it looked picturesque. And her body – God, don't even start him on her body. More than a few of his errant thoughts had involved tracing the outline of her tight form with his sturdy fingers. Charon had been able to ignore the looks of lust he'd seen emanating from the men they crossed paths with, but Noel herself seemed completely unaware of the effect she had on others, including himself. As for Charon, he'd wanted to stab each one of those human horn dogs in their perfect smooth foreheads. He realized now why he had felt that way. For all their lack of experience, their fragility, and their ignorance, they had something that he did not – a body that Noel might long for herself.
He shook his head as he followed Noel's path towards the D.C. ruins. The stubborn part of him refused to acknowledge this attraction to his new master. When he found his thoughts obsessing over Noel he would concentrate on her qualities that he found irksome. The way she laughed, full-mouthed and full-bodied, unlike anyone else in the wastes. The way she stuck out so damn much, wherever she went. The way she crinkled her nose at something distasteful. The way she looked at him expectantly. The problem was, the more he tried to focus on her flaws, the more he began thinking that her flaws in and of themselves were… nice.
Ugh, Charon thought. He'd been doing it again. This goddamn kid. The fact that he was even letting his mind imagine any possibility with the girl was driving him more crazy than you can believe. He was a ghoul, a zombie, and she was a goddamn princess of the vault. She would never want anything more from him than his shotgun and his back for hauling loot and shit across the D.C. wastes. Still, he found his thoughts wandering again, she sure beats those goddamn pinup pictures on a lonely night.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he almost bumped into his master. She had pulled the spin-around move again, only to find him staring at nothing in particular. The sight had so shocked the girl that she stood, hands on hips, in a mock look of annoyance. Her benevolent smile, velvet and liquid smooth, gave her amusement away. Charon, irritated at his thoughtlessness, stared hard at his master. His carelessness could have gotten them killed. What if something happened? He had a better eye than she did and, despite the fact that they were mostly decayed, his ears worked better too. Something could have snuck up on them and he never would have known it! His job was to protect her, and he wasn't doing it damn it!
Charon felt his eyes harden over and grow cold as Noel, unfettered and smiling slyly, returned his stare. "My apologies," he said gruffly. "I was not being cautious. It will not happen again."
"Charon!" Noel said, almost laughing now, "So you weren't paying attention for one minute. So what? Quite frankly I'm surprised that I even caught you." Charon watched her blue eyes playfully going over his features. Her wide smile softened into a more serious one and her voice took on a matured tone. "Don't worry about it, and don't beat yourself up over it. After all, you're only human." She reached for him, gripping him on his dark Talon armor (she had patched it up and given it to him almost as soon as she got it. Looks good on you, she had said approvingly). She pulled his arm closer to her as she began walking backwards through the wastelands, her amused smile still on her face. "Come on," she said, and her hands trailed down his forearms to his fingers, then fingertips, before falling away. "We've a ways to go yet."
Charon followed close behind, trying not to relive how her fingers had felt on his own, trying to ignore the rush of blood that flushed beneath his skin. Only human, he thought. Girlie, if you only knew.