This is too good to be true.
He eats until he's satiated – the fullest he's been for a long time. He tries to match his speed of consumption to hers so she would finish after him – a sly technique he uses to ensure that his employer is not unduly inconvenienced by his needs – and she stops him, tells him to finish at his own pace.
At my own pace. Like I am an equal.
"I guess old habits die hard, huh?" She quips.
"Yes, they do."
When he finishes eating, she asks him if he would like to join her for a drink at the bar. "You'll have to talk to people. You can't look to me to answer for you every time someone asks you a question. It's a small measure of freedom, but I'll give you as much as I can."
Freedom? No. She can't be serious.
"I would…like that."
"Great! Let's go!"
She opens the door for him, and calls out, "See you later, Wadsworth!" before she eases it closed and carefully locks it.
A wide grin spreads across her face. "Let's go get buzzed – my treat!" She hooks her right arm in his left, skin to skin, and he stands rigid, stunned. His heart is beating like a hammer in his chest. A smoothskin – touching him!
"Charon, let's go! What's the matter?" she implores, tugging gently on his arm.
"My employers do not usually…touch me." He says.
"Well, I'm not like them." Indeed - she is not.
"It doesn't invalidate the contract, does it?" Is that fear in her voice? Sadness?
"No – it does not. Only physical violence with intent to harm or kill me would invalidate the contract."
She sighed, relieved. "Well then, you better get used to it. I'm gonna be touching you a lot from now on."
WHAT?!
"Oh. My. God." She looks away, her cheeks deep crimson. "I didn't mean it like that. Wow, uh… this is awkward." She looks up at him and chuckles. "Let's go, big guy – I'm thirsty."
The door to the bar swings wide, and as soon as Gob sees Olivia, he beams with happiness. "The Vault Girl returns!" He lifts his hands skyward in mock supplication. A moment later, Charon's massive frame crosses the threshold, and Gob's eyes widen in fright. The poor little ghoul begins to shake, and Olivia moves quickly to allay his fears.
"Do…do you know who that is?" His voice wavers. The poor guy is terrified.
"Yes, Gob, this is Charon. He's travelling with me now." She slips into a barstool, motioning for Charon to join her.
Stepping back tentatively, Gob inquires, "Oh, I see. And Ahzrukhal….?"
"-is dead. Three guesses who did the deed, and the first two don't count." His gaze searches Charon's placid face. The ghost of a satisfied smirk flits across Charon's lips. Gob snorted. "Good. That bastard got what he deserved."
Both Olivia and Gob are startled by his gravelly voice, unprompted. "No – he deserved much, much worse." Here we go. Let's try freedom on for size.
Olivia smiles. "It speaks!" The corners of his mouth bend upward, almost imperceptibly. She raises her arms to the sky. "It smiles!" She rests her elbows on the bar. "Gob, my friend and I came to enjoy an alcoholic beverage in your fine establishment. I'll have a beer. Charon?"
Friend?!
"I will have a beer as well."
They sit and drink in comfortable silence. They order a second round, then a third. Charon stops when Olivia, quite tipsy, orders another. He explains, "I must remain vigilant. I cannot perform my duties if I am intoxicated." In truth, he is nowhere near drunk – liquor and chems aren't nearly as potent to ghouls as they are to humans; even so, he is a large ghoul – it would take an enormous amount of liquor to dull his senses.
"Whatever you say, boss." She giggles at his confused expression, and thows her arm around his wide shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. He grunts, and she throws her head back, releasing a full, throaty laugh.
His heart skips a beat.
I could get used to this.
Note: The tension begins! Delicious!
