"Charon, wake up."

"Hmmm-grff."

"Chaaarooon. My love. My honey pie. My sweetums-dearest."

"Okay, I am awake."

"Sugar bear? Pumpkin?"

"Jesus Christ, Leah, I will strangle you again."

"We're going to Paradise Falls."

". . . ."

"So get dressed, handsome! I'll meet you downstairs!"

"You are so lucky you are beautiful."

Joseph trumped down the steps, tenderly poking along his cheekbone. Yep, still hurt like a bitch. Just checking.

He was surprised to find that Leah wasn't already up and about, milling around the bar yelling at one person or another to do some task she could have easily done herself. Charon was usually up by now as well and sitting in the corner, calmly ignoring the love of his life as he polished his weapons or talked logistics with Gob about future trips they were never going to make.

"Hey, where are Deadly and Deadlier?" Joseph asked through a yawn, heading for the fridge in the corner.

Gob looked up from a book Leah had left him about hand-to-hand combat. He'd gotten rusty over the years stuck in the saloon and if he ever wanted to leave he'd need to make sure his skills were tip-top. He didn't want to be the one holding Charon and Leah back. "Which one's Deadly and which one's Deadlier?" he asked, smiling.

"Depends on if it's that time of the month," Joe replied with a smirk.

Gob burst into laughter that was so strong it was almost painful. "Oh, you're a smart one, kid. You're lucky they both happen to be out. You would've earned yourself another black eye for that one."

Joe frowned as he pulled another pack of ice from the refrigerator. "Out? What do you mean, out?"

"Had an errand to run, I guess. Took that pain in the ass with them, thank God. I couldn't stand another minute of arrogant chatter from that little brat." He dog-eared his page in the book and set it aside, leaning forward curiously. "Said they'd be back by nightfall at the latest. Where did you get that shiner?"

Joe groaned and pressed the ice to his eye. "Made out with the wrong guy's daughter, I guess. I'm going over to . . . apologize today."

Gob appraised the kid in interest. "That's a smart idea. Billy can be rash when it comes to Maggie. Apologizing would get you on the right road to his good graces."

"That was the plan," Joe sighed, setting the ice back down onto the table. He looked up at the ghoul with a resigned expression. Just thinking about it made his stomach do flips in anxiety. "Can you think of anything else that would help me?"

Wordlessly, Gob walked over to the fridge. He pulled open the door, grabbed something inside, and walked back. He slid the bottle of whiskey and a shot glass over the counter to the young man with a knowing smile.

"Take two o' those, kid, and you've got a head start. Just don't tell Deadly or Deadlier or you'll be calling me Dead pretty soon."

Four gunshots rang loudly across the open Wasteland and a heavy body fell into the dust. There was a triumphant whoop that quickly followed as RJ did a victory lap around his two companions, thrusting his rifle up in the air above his head—he may have had Charon's arrogance, but he'd also picked up Leah's goofiness

"Nice shot," Leah praised with a grin. She stepped over the newly dead raider and gestured at the corpse with her Xuanlong rifle. "Aren't you going to check him for supplies?"

RJ stopped short and nodded. "Right. Check for supplies." He knelt next to the dead raider and fearlessly began to rummage through the pockets of his armor.

Charon nodded in approval as RJ pocketed ammo for his rifle and even a few stimpaks.

"You know the plan, right?" Leah called back at them, strapping her rifle to her back. They were getting close. She could spot the giant Big Boy statue. They were maybe five minutes away.

Charon was spacing out. He was too busy admiring how fucking well Leah filled out a merc charmer outfit. The skirt was just so tiny, maybe too tiny, really, but god if she didn't look amazing in it. He didn't understand what would make her switch from her normal leather armor into something as flimsy as her outfit now, but hey if she wanted to march around in a short skirt and ripped stockings, who was he to stop her?

"Yes, mom," RJ said teasingly with a roll of his eyes at Charon, who was roused from his thoughts and smirked back. "We've gone over it at least ten times by now."

"Then sock it to me."

"You're gonna lead me and Charon in like slaves. We're heading in and you're gonna check for three children slaves—remember, mungo," he added, slipping in the nickname he still pulled out when he was feeling snarky, which was ninety percent of the time, "Squirrel's sixteen by now. Penny's fifteen. Sammy's the youngest, he'd only be thirteen by now." His smile had faded as he remembered his friends. "You're gonna kill the bastard who took 'em, right, Leah?"

"Next part of the plan?" Charon growled, waving his question away.

RJ scowled. "Once you buy them—if they're even there—I'm gonna lead 'em over west. To that hill."

"Where Fawkes will meet you," Leah finished for him, reaching for his rifle as they walked along the south outer wall of Paradise Falls. She strapped it to her back with hers and Charon handed RJ four smaller guns.

"Give one to each of them to have, just in case," he instructed gravely. "It will be a short distance to travel, but you must take no chances."

"Right," RJ agreed, nodding seriously and thankfully keeping any snarky comments to himself.

"Not a word out of you, you hear me?" Leah asked harshly. She didn't like being mean, but if RJ got them caught before they were ready and the slaves were a safe distance away, it would all be for naught. "Not a single word. Stand a foot behind me at all times and don't make eye contact with anyone. Look at me before you make any action for an OK. If you must answer or ask me a question, call me 'Master.' Got it?"

RJ silently nodded.

"Good," Leah growled, turning to Charon. "I don't need to tell you how to do any of this, do I?" she asked sadly, reaching up to touch his face one last time before they reached the gate.

"No, smoothskin. This is a role I was born playing," he replied with a shrug, kissing her palm.

She let her hand fall back to her side and Charon watched her eyes harden, her shoulders set, her gait turn arrogant as they wandered toward the man standing watch. RJ and Charon fell immediately into line behind her as she moseyed up to him.

"Hold it right there," a black man in combat armor ordered. He squinted at them and stood up from the metal chair he'd been sitting on, clutching his rifle close. "Nobody's allowed into Paradise Falls except on slaver business. And I get to decide what qualifies as 'slaver business.'"

Leah silently braced herself. Charon was not going to like this.

She pursed her lips and leaned forward across the table between them, sticking out her ass and showing him the near acre of cleavage this tiny outfit exposed. She hitched a thumb over her shoulder and bit her lower lip, looking just the right amount of sassy and just the right amount of devious. "I've got two slaves here," she explained in the sappy voice she reserved just for these occasions, "but I'm planning on starting my own settlement. Four hands aren't enough to build the walls I'm going to need for security. I need more. Unless . . . Paradise Falls isn't the place to go to for that?" She angled her voice up at the end and flashed those baby blues at him, trying not to think about what Charon's face must have looked like behind her.

Hook, line, and sinker. The man pulled at the collar of his armor and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, miss," he spluttered, setting his rifle down. He chanced a smile at her. "My name is Grouse. I'm just the guard. It's my job to intimidate any potential do-gooders who would come in here and shoot the place up, you know?"

"Oh, I understand," Leah assured him, running a hand through her dark hair. Her tongue darted out to wet both pink lips as she watched his eyes follow the quick movement. "I'll just be . . . in and out," she murmured with a slow smile. "You won't even notice me. I just want a few, strong slaves to get these walls built up."

Grouse grinned thoughtfully. "Maybe once you're done, you can come see me again on your way out," he proposed in what he must have thought was an endearing voice.

Leah let out a dusty laugh and strolled past him without looking back. "We'll see about that, Grouse. We'll see about that." She led her two "slaves" past the barricades toward the doors to Paradise Falls. She didn't chance glancing over her shoulder in case somebody was watching—which she was sure was true—but she could feel the heated glare on her back and knew she and Charon were going to be having some words later.

An old, broken-down car was blocking the double doors. There was a clank and the clinking of a chain being drawn as it began to rise to allow them entrance. Just as it reached the top, the doors were thrown open and a man in slave clothing and an explosive collar came bursting out. He sprinted past them, gasping for breath. RJ stopped and watched, dumbstruck, but Charon and Leah knew better and kept walking. She closed her eyes just as the explosion went off.

RJ cried out and leapt away, horrified. He turned back to the other two, who merely looked grim.

The double doors opened once more and they fell back into character, Leah turning to the slaver who walked out with a hastily put-together smile. "Close one there," she remarked casually. "He almost got away."

"Yeah, not with tha' slave colla' on," the slaver said with relish, dragging his eyes down and back up Leah's body. "You're a right hot bod' to be walkin' around slaver territory."

"Just here to purchase," she snarled, pushing past him and crossing her arms like the snooty bitch she'd come here as. She was glad she hadn't watched the slave explode. She might've lost it.

Reassured by the two sets of footsteps behind her, she pushed into the heart of Paradise Falls. Slavers dotted the open area, chatting and exchanging money for goods, laughing over drinks. It was strange to see them acting like any other wastelanders, knowing how evil they were on the inside. RJ felt sick looking at them. They all deserved to die, every last fucking one.

Charon caught his gaze and gave him the very slightest shake of the head. I understand, but keep the fuck quiet.

RJ swallowed and kept his head forward.

Leah strolled casually around the corner and spotted a campfire up ahead. A brahmin was rotating on a spit in a circle of slavers. There was a black man in a red suit standing on the edge, two slaves in pink dresses behind him. Leah approached him slowly, her expression haughty but respectful.

"Excuse me," she sang.

He looked up at once, cocking an eyebrow as he caught sight of her. "Yes?" he asked in a pleasant voice, flattening the lapels of his suit. "May I help you?"

Leah smiled. "Your manners are a right sight better than your guard's," she commented politely.

"You must be speaking of Grouse. I admit, he isn't the warmest individuals, but he keeps away those who must be kept away." He made no effort to hide the edge of warning in his voice.

"Indeed, everyone has a job. Which is why I am here. I'd like to start a settlement not too far from here, but these two here," she said, gesturing over her shoulder at Charon and RJ, "just don't have the manpower to get it done. I was wondering if you have any younger slaves. It may take years to finish. Also, I find that with slaves, the younger, the better, Mr. . . ." She trailed off, angling for a name.

"Forgive me!" He laughed softly. "It seems that even with my 'manners,' I sometimes forget common courtesy. You may call me Eulogy Jones. These are Crimson and Clover," he introduced his slaves. They sent her snooty glares. "I just so happen to have three slaves of a young age, in comparison to most of our slaves. We've had them since their childhood, but no one ever wants to buy them. They have . . . quite the attitudes, if you understand."

"Oh." Leah bit her lip and played uncertain. "Hmm. I'm not sure if that will work for me."

"What?" RJ asked quietly behind her.

Leah's entire body went rigid. The slavers at the campfire all stopped talking and stared at them. Eulogy raised his eyebrows and his two slaves gasped in fear for the boy.

"Excuse me," Leah apologized to Eulogy through gritted teeth. She whirled on her heel and slapped RJ hard with the back of her hand. He whimpered as his head jerked from the hit, his cheek turning bright red. Charon remained unmoving. Leah turned back around, face burning in regret—that easily passed for embarrassment under the circumstances. "I . . . apologize. I have a sentimental weakness for my slaves, and I spoil them as you can see. They talk when they should listen."

After a long moment of silence, the slavers returned to conversation and Eulogy dipped his head in understanding. "Of course. The teenagers are often the hardest to work with. Might I suggest an older slave then, since you are already having such difficulty with just one teenaged slave?"

"No, it shall be no issue," Leah assured him. "I will take it as a challenge. I might want to be a parent one day and if I cannot control my slaves, then I am in no shape to have children." She beamed at him.

Eulogy smiled back. "All right then. They're thirteen, fifteen, and sixteen. Perfect ages, really, for a physical job such as yours. I shall accept two thousand for the lot of them."

Leah's smile faltered. She simpered and jutted her bottom lip out thoughtfully, running her fingertips down the dip between her breasts. "Two thousand? That seems a little steep."

He stroked his chin, looking her up and down. He snapped his left hand and one of the slaves—Clover—stepped forward. "Clover is one of the craziest girls I ever met. Crazy in a fight, crazy in the sack, crazy every which way but loose. But most of all, she's crazy-in-love with whoever holds her leash. For two thousand total, Clover could also be crazy for you." He grinned at her, teeth glinting. Clover stood beside him with a dazzling smile of her own.

One more slave freed was worth the price. Leah laughed and handed over a bundle of caps. "You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Jones." She took his offered hand and they shook on it.

"Your slaves will be brought to you at the entrance. You can see yourself out." Eulogy turned away to Crimson and touched her face. "It's just you and me now, darling."

Leah spun and marched for the exit, wanting to get the children out as soon as possible. Clover fell into step beside Charon and grinned ahead at her. Charon glanced down at her and saw only adoration in her eyes. He knew slavery inside out, knew the boiling hatred, the hopelessness, the constant urge to commit a quick and bloody suicide.

He saw none of that in this girl's eyes.

Whatever. Let Leah deal with it.

When they reached the main entrance, three teenaged children were waiting there for them. Leah gestured them coldly after her and the now large group moved out through the barricades. As soon as they'd passed through the double doors, Leah slid behind one of the abandoned cars. She looked around at the four newcomers.

"Squirrel, Penny, Sammy," she addressed the Little Lamplighters, "RJ is going to take you guys back to Little Lamplight. Go with him, do what he says, 'cause it could mean your life."

"MacCready?" Sammy's eyes began to tear up, but Leah shushed him quickly.

"You have to be quiet and act like nothing is up. You'll have all the time in the world to reunite once you get to the caverns. Clover," she said, turning to the new girl. She grinned at the sound of her new master addressing her.

"Yes, lover?" she asked in a lilting, pleasant voice.

"Erm, you don't have to call me that," Leah said, glancing awkwardly over at Charon and glaring at his smirk. "You can just call me Leah, and I'm freeing you."

"Don't be silly, lover," Clover said with a laugh. "I'll always follow you wherever you need me."

Leah sighed, rubbing her temples. Fucking great. What the hell had she gotten herself into? "Fine, you go with RJ, too, then. Nobody freak out at the super mutant, he's friendly. As odd as that sounds, trust me. He's what's going to be keeping you safe between here and Little Lamplight. Am I clear?"

There were four heads nodding back at her.

"Good," she said, shooing them off. "Then get to it. Be quiet, be quick. Go!"

RJ and the four former slaves clambered out from behind the car and took off. Leah and Charon watched them until they were gone around the corner, Leah biting her nails in worry.

"RJ is more than capable of getting them home safe," he reassured her, rubbing the small of her back. They settled down in the small area and she curved into the circle of his arms. They had at least an hour until nightfall. "By the way," he said and his voice was colder, "you never mentioned that you put on this ridiculous outfit so that you could flirt with other men."

Leah winced, glad he couldn't see the guilty expression on her face. "It was purely an issue of practicality."

"I understand," he sighed, pulling her back against his chest, her legs splayed out within his. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "But you are still such a tease. Have I ever told you that?" he growled, his voice tickling her ear.

She shivered against him. "Well, I – oh!" she whispered as his hand was very suddenly in her shirt. Her eyelids fluttered as he circled a nipple with his rough fingertips. "Ooh," she cooed.

"Shh," he murmured through a smirk. "No one should know we are here," he reminded her.

"Then you shouldn't be – ah, forget that, don't stop."

He turned her around so that she was straddling his thighs and his face was very serious now. "Do you think you can remain quiet?" he asked.

Leah was already unbuckling his pants. "Only if you can."

There were a few moments of silenced fumbling and hushed murmurs of impatience before she was lowering herself onto his length. Charon barely bit back a groan as her tight heat enveloped him. He ducked his face into her throat and clenched her hips as she began to grind back and forth. Her husky little gasps echoed softly against the side of his face as she rocked her hips, his arousal hitting every spot within her and god, it felt good, it felt really fucking good—it felt like it had been forever, had it really only been one night?

Then again, with Charon every time felt like the first time. He was usually so loving and so absorbed in her and her body that it seemed he was worshipping her with his every time. His fingers dug into the flesh of her skin where he'd shoved her skirt up and he bit down on her shoulder.

Leah hissed at the sudden pain and her hips gave an erratic jerk against his. He palmed her waist to stabilize her movements and got a good rhythm going, back and forth, around in a circle, every rotation brushing that bundle of nerves of hers against his rough skin. He kissed where he'd bitten her, delirious with lust and pleasure, tasting sweat.

Leah murmured a curse into his skin and sank her teeth into the curve of his neck as she was tipped over the edge, into the tight contractions around his length and then he was coming, too, clutching desperately at her hips as he muffled his groan into her throat and burst within her.

Leah watched as he lifted his head and smiled tiredly at her. He brushed a lock of hair from her sweat-slick skin and kissed her.

She gently lifted herself off of his softening member and slid her tights and skirt back into place. Charon seemed to have gone limp—all over his body—so she laughed quietly and buckled his clothes back up as well. She pressed a kiss to his lips and smiled.

"Night time already?" he asked, his voice raspy with new excitement—a different kind, a bloodlust kind.

She pointed upward at the dark sky, something neither had really noticed during their quickie. "You bet, handsome. Let's go fuck up some slavers."

"You are the love of my life," he declared happily as he pulled his shotgun from his back.

"Lucky you, huh?" She readied her Victory rifle and looked up at the wall behind them. "I was thinking –,"

"During sex?" he demanded, feeling that if she'd been planning their assault during their lovemaking then he was surely lacking in his abilities.

"Before sex," she reassured him with a flop of her hand, "that if we can scale this wall, we can take a bunch out with the sniper rifles before we have to really get down and dirty."

"I like the way you think," he agreed, mollified. Without further ado, Leah leapt up and grabbed hold of a piece of metal that had peeled back from the wall. She hoisted herself up, Charon assisting her by pushing her feet, and managed to throw a leg over the ledge of the wall. It leveled out on top of Paradise Falls' gun store. She grinned and rolled onto the roof, leaning back over to help Charon up.

He reached into their bag for his sniper rifle while she set hers up. She pressed her eye to the scope and took in the walkways below.

She could see Eulogy Jones leaning against a wall by the campfire, his arms crossed and an easy smile on his face. He was chatting away with one of the other slavers and he laughed, he fucking laughed, he was happy.

Leah smiled as she lined up the shot. Slavers would sleep with one eye open after tonight. She'd be fucking sure of it.

"Let's party."

Thanks to TheLittlestReaper and Vermin-lord and, of course, Pattyn: you make my little fanfiction world spin. I'm excited for this sequel, too! I can't wait to flex my writerly muscles with this one. Thank you always for the love!