A/N: HEY ALL!
OMGGG I FORGOT TO POST THIS CHAPTER YESTERDAY, AND IT'S THE MOST IMPORTANT CHAPTER IN THE SERIES TO DATE! -arm flail, runs around in circles like a dumbass-
-collects myself, clears my throat- ANYWHOOOO...
Wow, 29 Chapters just for the famed first kiss we've all been waiting for, neh? Well, it's Aimee's first, and Charon hasn't been touched by ANYONE (man OR woman) since his ghoulification, so you have to expect that things don't go well... ESPECIALLY with the reason why Aimee kisses the big lug! xD GOD I'M EVIL!
You'd think that the moment Charon is touched by Aimee he'd go into an orgasm by tenfold or something... (I heard somewhere that sometimes, guys who don't have sex for a few months to a year pretty much explode in their pants the moment a girl so much as touches them, LMFAO! Sorry guys for exploiting you :3)
Anyways, happy reading, happy writing! Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated here!
~Konfessionist out!~
Aimee knelt down in front of a janitor's closet deep in the belly of the school on the outskirts of Springvale with a bent bobby pin between her fingers and Charlie, her combat knife, in the other- used to apply the torque to get the damn door open. The door was flimsy, she could easily enough have Charon ram through it or something, but…
She glanced at the rock-solid ghoul standing behind her with his shotgun held in both hands. He was shamelessly staring back at her with narrowed eyes, and she swallowed quietly before turning back to the lock that she was working on.
…But he hadn't said two words to her since they left Galaxy News Radio. Was he irked by something she did, or said? Was it about her asking what Thanksgiving was?...
When she asked, his face twisted up into a sour expression- mostly shown through his icy blue eyes- and he growled at her instead of answering. Then they hadn't talked much since.
He's probably mad 'cause I keep bothering him about his past… She thought to herself, a little guiltily. I'm definitely getting him something nice when we get home.
The only reason why they weren't home right now was because she wanted to stop at the school for a moment to comb it over- search for more scrap parts and any other valuable things they could use to sell for extra spending money before going on their travels to Rivet City. They killed a few raiders, stomped on a few Radroaches- same old, same old. Even then he didn't say anything to her.
Well, maybe a word or two… Like "move", or "behind you", or simply "raider".
…Yeah, his intentions were quite vague. She didn't know he could get upset to the point where he was going to give her the silent treatment. She didn't know, either, if this was the tactic of someone who was severely pissed off, or a tactic of a five year old child who would do so when they didn't get what they wanted. Either way, his reaction- for whatever reason it was that he was acting this way- troubled her deeply. The only reason why she didn't bother to ask was because she was sure he wouldn't give her a truthful answer, if an answer at all.
The janitor's closet door swung open, snapping her back to the work at hand and she straightened up, grinning back at the ghoul at an attempt to make him talk.
"Aimee's got the magic touch!" She cried arrogantly, wriggling her fingers at him.
"Indeed," Charon mused, glancing over her shoulder into the small closet.
"Oh my God! It's a miracle!" She flung her hands up into the air with praise. "He speaks! Well, it's still only one word... But whatever!" She grinned at him smugly.
His intense blue eyes darted back down at her, narrowing once more.
"…Never mind." She sighed, smile disappearing, and she turned back to the closet to find the shelves lined with miscellaneous items- useful items.
"Jack pot!" She exclaimed, dashing in to be halted by a short, metal step ladder. "…Oh, this is great. Another way the world can mock me for being so damned short!" She cried, stomping a foot down childishly before clambering up it.
Charon remained in the hall, watching in case they missed a Raider and it was coming back to attempt to kill them when a hollow thump resounded in his ears. He glanced back at Aimee, eyes trailing down to the floor to find that the book Colvin had given her had fallen out of an unzipped pocket of her bag. He picked it up and handed it back to her, nudging her shoulder with it to get her attention.
"Th- Thanks…" She murmured, grabbing it and placing it on the shelf to put it in her bag when she needed it. She pulled her pack off her back and opened it, picking items off shelves to judge whether or not they were worth salvaging before tossing them into her bag when a gravelly voice called behind her.
"He seems to be fond of you," Charon spoke. His voice sounded slightly absentminded, as if he hadn't meant to say what he was thinking.
"Who is?" Aimee asked, looking back at him to find that he was staring at the book- the gift- Dalton had given her before they left GNR. She snorted with amusement. "I don't mean to blow my own horn, but I'm the famed Lone Wanderer, Char-bear. Everyone's fond of me." She turned back to the junk she was collecting.
"Him more so than others," He replied honestly.
"Wow. Days of not speaking to me, and this is the topic of conversation you choose as an icebreaker?" Her eyes sharply darted to him, not liking the feeling welling up in her gut. "What gives?"
"You haven't noticed." He stated more than asked.
"Noticed what?" She asked exasperatedly.
"That kiss?"
"Kiss?" She furrowed her brows together, trying to recall when she ever kissed Dalton. "Oh! You mean when I thanked him?"
His eyes seemed to darken unhappily. "…Yes."
"What about it? I wanted to thank him, so I did."
"Did you ever think that maybe that kiss meant more to him than what was intended by you, Aimee?"
"Like what?" She went up another step on the ladder so she could come to eye level with him.
"You are honestly not aware of his affections for you?" He snapped.
Her jaw dropped slightly. Dalton? Liking her? She highly doubted it, the guy could pass as her father or something… He certainly had the age to pass as a father! She had to remind herself that Charon was a lot more perceptive than she was either way- but then again, she also had to remind herself that even the most perceptive people could be wrong, or have misinterpretations of a situation.
Why was the topic of conversation getting him all bent out of shape anyways?
"It- It's not a big deal!" Aimee sputtered, turning back to shoving her bag full of junk parts furiously.
"So you didn't notice," Charon growled.
She spun back around, huffing with her growing irritation. "Maybe I did and I just didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him to take a hike!" She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, as if trying to prove her point.
"That is unlike you. You simply would have told him that you could not return his feelings instead of stringing him along." He replied as if it were the simplest answer in the world- with that smug tone of victory.
Her anger flared like an enraged star, caving into itself to create a black hole in the core of her being.
"Stringing him along?" She yelled, pointing a finger at him. "How dare you think that was my intention!"
"I did not mean it that way, and you know it." He replied indifferently, arms folding over his chest.
"You think that you're such a people person? You think that you can read me like an open book without even opening yourself up to me?" The words were tumbling out faster than she could stop them, and before she knew it, she was throwing her bag at him angrily. "Well you're not! Stop acting like you know everything! Stop acting like you know me!"
Her bag hit him square in the chest, tumbling to land at his feet with the contents spilling out to skitter across the floor. He glowered at her, growling like a mad dog.
"I know you better than most, Aimee." He answered casually with the muscle in his neck twitching- he knew he pissed her off. He collected her things and put them back into her bag before picking it up from the floor and handing it back to her, eyes boring deep into hers. "You said so yourself."
Aimee immediately softened at his words, only staring back at him with disbelief- and guilt- in the things she yelled at him. She knew he was a rash man, he could have easily smacked her around for yelling at him in such a manner (although his contract held him back from doing so). There was truth in what he said… She had no one else to turn to out in the Wasteland, her father being an exception because he was still currently missing.
Charon knew her better than anyone else, but wasn't that a given? They slept together, traveled together, ate together, fought together… But now, they were fighting one another. Why had she lashed out at him like that? Why, when he was only trying to protect her?
Wait-... Was he trying to protect her? From what? Dalton? She couldn't say if the thought was true or not- it made no sense! Even for Charon it didn't make any damn sense!
Would Dalton do that? She tensed, eyes drifting down to her bag, outstretched by his hand. Would Dalton protect me? Listen to my stupid jokes, listen to me cry about my father?... Would he stay no matter what? Because he wanted to, not because of those stupid duties the BoS have?
Aimee knew the answer to those questions. No. No, no, no… and probably, no- even if he did like me, men will only go so far. Only Charon would do any of those things- yet here was this Knight Captain, toddling after her like a lovesick puppy, throwing her gifts and she rewards him with a kiss (even if it was only on the cheek). What had she given Charon after months of traveling for protecting and ultimately rescuing, on many occasions, her sorry hide? There was a box of shells here or there as thanks, but did that really amount to what she had given Dalton by the way he was acting? Was he mad that he wasn't getting the sort of payment that Dalton was?
She never took Charon as that sort of guy, but damn, she was horrible either way… For saying those things, for snapping at him, for denying him something that she should have done so long ago. She should have given her thanks.
Aimee took her bag from his hands, placing it on the shelf next to her book and turned back to him.
"I- I'm sorry, Charon…" She murmured apologetically, and she caught the unexpected twitch in his neck. "You're right. I should have known. But you should know that I'm pretty fucking oblivious to a lot that goes on around me! I'm not that perceptive, it's a given, which is why-…" She gave a gentle sigh of nervousness, latching a quivering hand onto the front of his armor to pull him close, eyes lingering in his as she whispered; "Which is why I'm so thankful to have you around to protect me…"
"Ai- Aimee," Charon stuttered, and seeing him so flustered was almost enough to make her smile and laugh. "What are you-?"
She smiled- Charon had called her by her first name.
"Giving my thanks to the right person," She replied honestly, tilting her chin up so their eyes met. "You."
She leaned up from the ladder so she was eye level with him and she could feel his breath spreading over her lips (her earlier thoughts were right, she would need a stepladder in order to do what she was about to do- oh the irony…). She dug her nails into the front of his armor to make sure he couldn't get away. She closed her eyes the moment the plump, pink flesh of her lips connected with the ravaged skin on his own lips, and the moment she felt him- all her tense muscles of nervousness melted away and she released an even breath.
The only thing that bothered her was that he wasn't moving at all. It was like trying to kiss a mannequin. She wanted to do something to coax him into at least returning the kiss- she wanted to do something that would forever remind her that she was kissing him. She was kissing Charon.
The thought hit her like a ton of bricks in an instant.
Oh God, she was kissing Charon!
…Oh God.
What was stranger still was that it felt so… Right? Justified? Not weird? Whatever it was, she sorta liked it, and she wanted more. She wanted him to do something more than just stand there like an idiot.
Aimee decided to do just that- encourage him to do more than just stand there, and slithered her hands up from the front of his armor and wrapped them around his neck in an effort to deepen the kiss. But she only met the action halfway, because a growl resonating from his throat caused her to freeze.
What is he going to do? Her heart began to pound in her chest.
She cried out with surprise when his hands suddenly darted up from his sides and grabbed onto each of her wrists, prying them from his shoulders and he pulled her back by them, glaring down at her as she stumbled off the ladder onto unsteady feet in front of him. He was glaring! He looked like a wild dog; lips parted and bared back to reveal rows of yellow teeth as he snarled at her. A mixed expression lanced the missing features of his face- and was that… Frustration and confusion she saw in his eyes?
"Don't." He barked, still holding onto her wrists.
"D- Don't what?" She squeaked with slight confusion. Wasn't this what he wanted? Wasn't this what he was getting all bent out of shape for?
"Don't do- do that." He finally let her go, stepping back to create distance between them. "You don't understand."
"Understand?" She furrowed her brows together. "Understand what?" Didn't he want payment for his services?
"Don't do it again." Charon warned seethingly once more, turned on his heel, and stomped off.
…Holy shit. Holy shit- had she misunderstood him?
Aimee looked at the book from the corner of her eyes, finding something oddly different about it. She picked it up with a shaking hand and looked at the picture of the woman dancing with the furry monster on the front, but her eyes widened at what she saw. Instead of the woman with long hair, it was her- and instead of the hairy beast, it was Charon dressed in formal attire. She was dancing with Charon!
"Ch- Charon! Wait!" She begged, grabbing her bag and shoved her book into it before taking off after him down the staircase. "Charon stop!"
What had she done?
She turned the corner of the stairs and immediately slammed into a solid wall of ghoul, stumbling back from the force of impact. His hand lashed out, grabbing onto her wrist to pull her back to him. Once she was on her feet, he ran his hands up till they latched onto her biceps, almost hoisting her off the ground- forcing her to stare into the clusterfuck of emotions that clouded his prodding eyes.
"You don't understand…" He muttered, a little softer in tone and emotion as he slowly set her down onto her feet.
"What don't I understand?" She asked, getting slightly irritated by this cat and mouse game he seemed to be playing. Seriously- what the fuck did he want from her?
"That-… That this should be done between two people in love." He replied a little reluctantly, finally letting her arms go and he stepped back once again.
Aimee saw it flash into his eyes- only for a brief moment, but she recognized it well. She saw it when they were back in the Museum of Technology, when he had clamped a heavy hand down onto her shoulder and called her Rose… He looked so confused and hurt then, and he looked just as confused and hurt now, if not more.
"You- You think that's what this is about?" She replied softly. "Charon, I was only trying to-"
She was abruptly cut off by the ghoul spinning around and walking to the next flight of stairs, leaving her to stew in her own silent words. He was grumbling something to himself, something that only he could hear. And she was fine with that as she flew down after him again.
"Charon, wait damn you! You can't keep cutting me off!" She cried as she ran. "I thought this was what you wanted!"
Charon stopped at the bottom of the staircase, turning around slightly to look back at her. That frustrated look was back in his expression with his eyes narrowed significantly. She stopped a few steps above where he stood so she came to eye level with him once more, and she was trying to calm her heavy panting.
"What I wanted?" He questioned.
"I- I thought that you- wanted payment or something, for protecting me…" She ducked her blushing face away. "I thought you wanted me to-…" Her voice trailed off, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth as it dried up and turned cottony.
"Mi- Aimee," Charon quickly corrected himself, and Aimee's eyes darted back up to him- she was hoping that their friendship was still salvageable. "I-… You-…" It seemed like he couldn't find the words either.
"Make me understand, Charon." She finally spoke pleadingly. "I'm a fast learner. You know that better than anyone- you said so yourself!"
His brow muscles slowly began to furrow together angrily- it wasn't all water under the bridge yet.
"It seems to me that you don't understand how utterly misguided you are, mistress," He spat acidly, turning away from her. Simply hearing that he so quickly went back to using the formal title was like someone was using her heart as a punching bag. "And you've made it clear that some aspects of my contract are still quite vague to you."
"Wha- what do you mean?"
"As your bodyguard, I do not receive payment of any sort. I work for you, and only you, loyally and unquestioningly till someone else gains possession of my contract." He dead panned, walking away from her.
"Then why the hell were you getting all weird because I thanked Dalton?" Aimee yelled, causing him to stop and look back at her.
"It's not because you thanked him," He answered honestly. "It's the way that you thanked him."
Her eyes widened as her lower jaw popped open. "The- The way I-?"
"Forget it." He shook his head disapprovingly, shouldering his shotgun as he casually went down the next flight of stairs at his side.
Aimee froze where she stood, trembling as if someone had doused her with a bucket of freezing cold ice water. His words floated through her head- "Forget it."- and her mind spoke back to him, as if they were actually continuing the conversation and he hadn't just left like he did.
If only it were that simple, Charon… If only it were as simple as forgetting. She thought sadly, pulling her book out of her bag to gaze at the picture on the cover once more. It was no longer her and Charon dancing, but it was the same woman and furry beast.
Were you hurt in your own love story, too? She wondered, brushing her fingertips over the woman's smiling face.
Shouldering her own pack and unhurriedly made her way to the bottom of the stairs, they walked out quietly, making their way back to Megaton without saying one word to each other. But once they went inside the giant metal structure and staggered to their shared dwellings, they finally glanced at each other with foreign looks, and they believed they knew what the other was thinking.
Things wouldn't be the same anymore.
