Author's Note: Part of the problem with writing this (and reading it, I'm sure you'll agree) is wanting to get to "the good stuff." The way that I've written it, this chapter marks the start of their fourth day together. Is it possible to fall in lust in four days? Absolutely. After almost getting raped? Unlikely. Is it possible to fall in love in days? Some people say yes. As odd as it feels to say, what they've got going for them is their traumatic start. People in crises connect closely with others in the same situation. Kate and Charon have treated each other better than anyone else in the past has treated either of them. Charon's seen all kinds of people in the wasteland over the years, and they've either treated him like a freak or worse. I feel that he would fall for her quickly. I'm not as sure about Kate.

So I would love any feedback regarding the believability of Kate's burgeoning feelings in this chapter. I enjoy all of the feedback I get. : D

Rated M for gratuitous profanity, violence, and ghoul sex.

The Fallout universe rights are currently owned by Bethesda Studios. I do not own the rights to Fallout intellectual property and receive no money for this. It is merely a creative outlet, dream space, respite from the real world, and something to tide me over until Fallout 4 is released.

Chapter Twenty Five: Deep Sleep

When he woke up the next morning, Charon did the first thing that he always did: find his gun. As he felt around for it, he began to notice a few unusual things. He was groggy, and his back didn't hurt. When he didn't find the gun on him or on the bed, he forced himself to sit up and open his eyes.

Kate was sitting at the desk, grinning at him. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"Where's my gun?" Charon mumbled, voice even raspier than usual.

Kate snorted. "Wow. I was expecting something more along the lines of 'Good morning, Kate. Did you sleep well?' Maybe I should have let you and the gun have the bed last night. It's on the floor."

Charon stretched over and picked up the gun. He checked the barrel. Loaded and ready.

"You know, your estimations are way off. Either that or you got your numbers mixed up," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Charon asked, wiping his eyes.

"I'd say you're only missing 25% of your skin."

Charon looked down. He slept as he normally did when he was in safe quarters: just boxers. With horror, he saw that the blanket had fallen to his waist. His face jerked up to see her. What he saw was a mixture of amusement and something else. Hunger? Appreciation? He was afraid to put a word to it because he was afraid the word would just be a lie.

"Although you are all muscle, so I guess you were right in that way," she said, grinning. She had expected him to wrap himself up in the blanket. Charon just stared at her in confusion. "It's a compliment."

He nodded dumbly. "Okay."

"The normal response to someone giving you a compliment is to say 'thank you.'"

"Thank you."

"That's better."

As much as he enjoyed seeing her smile, this new type of smile was delicious. While he knew how to get her to smile, he would make it a point to learn how to coax this new smile out of her.

"Can you toss me my pants?"

Kate scoffed. "Quit being such a prude. Besides, you saw way more of me our first night together."

He had thought of that image far too often. Her words only intensified his body's response to the memory.

"Come get them yourself," she said with a mischievous smile.

Charon was having a difficult enough time trying to disguise his erection with the blanket. "I do not want to do that."

"Oh, come on. Think of it as your own exposure therapy, although I suppose it is a bit more literal this time. I'm not freaking out about you now, am I? You need to get over this 'I'm disgusting' thing."

Charon swallowed and averted his eyes. "That's not what I'm afraid of."

"Okay, Mr. Difficult. Then what are you afraid of?"

"I am afraid that I will offend you."

Kate sighed. "How would you offend—" Her eyes noticed the bulge under the blanket. She blinked as she realized just how far away the bulge was from his body. It was true. He was a big motherfucker. "It's a completely normal biological response."

"Not entirely." His eyes met hers and then dropped again.

"Then, um—thanks." Her face flushed. Lower down, she felt a wicked, undulating heat.

"Thanks?"

"For the compliment." She reached down, grabbed the pants, and tossed them to him. She turned the chair around and faced the wall. "Go on. I'll behave this time for real this time. See look. I'm even covering my eyes."

When he was satisfied that she wouldn't turn around, he got out of the bed, faced the wall, and tugged the pants on. "You can turn around now."

He looked stunning standing there in nothing but his black leather pants. As if by instinct, her eyes trailed the length of his body. As hot as his dark and brooding thing was, seeing him stand there confident and relaxed was its own turn-on. Had anyone else seen him like this before? She doubted it. She wondered when she had started to think of him as hot. She remembered how mesmerized she had been the first time she saw him. The sight of him made her forgot everything: the vault, her dad, the reason she was in the bar, how to breathe. It must have crept up on her and solidified after seeing him act so selflessly with the irradiated man. The ultimate aphrodisiac—the beauty inside matching that of the outside.

And now she wanted to fuck him.

Shit. Hadn't she already been worried about complicating things between them the previous night? If it was just fucking, she wouldn't have worried about that, which meant that she wanted something more than just fucking. He was right. Again. Being nice did lead to being annoyed. She couldn't think about their relationship without thinking of the contract. She was afraid that it came built in with Stockholm syndrome. His words had seemed heartfelt, but no one had had feelings like that for her before. A few had just wanted to fuck her—especially in the wasteland where the only things you needed to be a sex symbol was to be relatively clean and unscathed.

She couldn't deny how nice it felt to hold and be held by him. She had fallen asleep like that soon after, which was good because her hands were too curious for her own good. When she awoke, she was sprawled out on her back as usual, but Charon hadn't moved an inch. Stalwart ghoul companion indeed. When she saw his face, she was entranced. The ever-present tension had been replaced with the tiniest smile. She had seen him without his walls once more. She had wanted to kiss him—to press her lips to his and pin that serene smile to his face forever. It was what he deserved.

"Something bothering you?"

Kate's head snapped up. She had not heard Charon walk over. He was pulling his shirt over his head, recovering all of those perfectly chiseled muscles.

"Just thinking."

He began attaching his armor. "I figured you'd be in the science lab. What are you still doing here?"

"Oh, I thought you'd get mad if you woke up, and you didn't know where I was."

"Concerned. Not mad. You could have left a note."

"I did other stuff instead. I got some breakfast. I went through our bags and sorted them into stuff to keep and stuff to trade. I got this old dress from the robot that they'd been using to make rags. I used a bunch of pieces from it to bundle caps together so that they'd jingle less and be easier to count."

"We can go as soon as I get my armor on, unless you just want me to meet you there. I suppose that this place seems relatively safe. It's well-guarded anyway."

"Take your time."

Charon studied her. "Do you even want to go see your dad?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of? I thought that's why you were going all up and down the wasteland and doing bullshit for Three Dog."

Kate hugged her knees. "I'm scared."

"What are you scared of? I presume that he's a good man since he raised such a good kid."

She shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't want to see me."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because he left me in the vault."

"Then it's even more important for you to see him to find out why. He must have had a good—"

"'At least you'll be safe.' Bullshit. That bastard knows how unsafe it was for me there."

Charon's stomach twisted. "Kate. What happened to you in there?"

Kate just shook her head. Charon set down the last piece of armor. He walked behind Kate, wrapped his arms around her, and laid his head on her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But remember that I will be there with you, and even if the worst thing happens, I'll still be with you."

She hugged his arms against her. "Thanks, Charon. It does help."

"That is good to know," he said, truly grateful.

She squeezed his arms and then moved out of them to stand up. "So, shall we go get you some breakfast?"

"Only if you tell me what you've got lined up after that to keep putting this off."

Kate snorted. "The market will be closed in an hour or two."

Charon blinked. "What time is it?"

"16:37."

"Why'd you let me oversleep?"

"It isn't oversleeping if you needed it."

"You're spoiling me."

"Nope. I'm making sure that you get what you need. Huge difference."

Charon fastened his last bit of armor. "Hey, Kate."

"Yeah?"

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

It pained him to say it, but it had to be done. "Don't get me wrong. I like hugging you. I really, really do. But for the sake of your safety—our safety—don't do it in public."

It hurt, but she understood. "I guess the smoothskin arm candy part of your therapy will have to wait."

"You sure you don't mean the roughskin arm candy part of yours?" It was a calculated risk, but it worked. He managed to elicit a smile from her that had a hint of desire to it.

"You should keep that up. Confidence looks good on you."