Percy woke up to find Charon completely concealed from head to toe. When he woke up he'd felt…lighter.
"I figure a storm-chaser hat, goggles, and some more concealing merc armor will do the trick." He looked at her, sounding oddly sheepish through all the layers of cloth. A bandana was covering most of his face. She got up, walking to him.
"I already miss your face…" pulling down the bandana, she pressed a kiss to his dried and chapped lips. Percy loved the texture of his body. It was rough but firm. Stable and reliable. His hands grabbed her hips pulling her closer, but making sure they didn't get too excited. Sighing as she leaned back, Percy looked to their bags. "I think I still have a clean dress somewhere in there."
Charon sat back and ate, watching her get dressed and ready. He could never get over how gorgeous she was. His eyes traced the muscles on her legs, up her thighs, and rested just below her back. She covered herself with a light blue dress and slipped on a pair of old weathered heels. It was a relief to his tightening pants. With bobby-pins, charcoal dust from the campfire, and some of the lipstick Snowflake had given her, Percy slowly transformed herself into something beautifully pre-war. She turned to him with a wink.
"Think they'll let me in?"
"They might not let you back out."
Percy blushed at that, before her face fell. "I'm gonna have to be a bitch in there, just a heads up. You're going to need to carry everything and not speak unless I allow it. Let me do the talking, ok?"
Charon grabbed their things, standing tall before her. He felt oddly playful, despite the circumstances.
"I'm not sure," He mused, reaching around to squeeze her ass; it was so soft without all the armor. Charon leaned in, growling softly, "Do I get a reward after?"
Percy grew extremely hot, down to her core. Pulling him close, she attacked his mouth, tongue slipping through his lips with a moan.
'Make-up be damned, I'll fix it later…'
Charon rubbed her ass with one hand, the other worked on the buttons of her dress before slipping his hand through the folds to cup a breast, rolling her nipple between two fingers.
Percy whimpered, arching into his touch. Growling something that sounded very close to 'Fuck it,' Charon dropped to his knees before her. He roughly hauled one knee over his shoulder, steadying the other one as he yanked down her underwear.
"Watch the horizon." He commanded, to which Percy could only groan an assent.
His fingers drew along her wet curls, her aroma intoxicating him as he dipped a finger into her warm center. Her fingers clutched his scalp, impatient and wanton as her hips bucked forward.
Flattening his tongue from her opening up to her clit, Charon moaned in ecstasy at her taste. It had been too damn long. Curling two fingers inside her, He switched between sucking on her nub and catching the ambrosia that slipped from her core. Percy was a quivering mess, shamelessly grinding against his head as she tried to keep her balance and watch out for approaching enemies. His fingers, oh God his fingers! The texture made her jolt as he pumped them in and out of her. A strong wind blew through, raising goosebumps on her thighs as it cooled the moisture there.
"Yes, yes, yes! Right there…so good, oh, Charon!" She felt as if she was drowning in her own orgasm as it crept up her body. Percy shook apart, screaming his name and falling to the ground. But Charon wasn't done with her yet. Tongue and teeth climbed up to her breasts, lapping and nipping against the quivering flesh as Percy caught her breath. He claimed her mouth just as hungrily as he'd claimed her cunt, and she could taste herself on his tongue.
"Don't you need to…you know…?" Percy asked as she fixed her make-up and brushed the dirt off her body.
Charon fixed her with his hungry stare as he tried to calm himself down.
"Last time I checked, tonight you'll owe me a reward. Now, the reward is going to be that much sweeter." He smirked as he licked his lips, still tasting some of her there. Percy put on a wide brimmed hat and tinted sunglasses to cover her blush.
The Tower was much bigger up close. Charon stood behind Percy, face hidden, but glaring all the same. He resisted the urge to look at her ass as she stuck out her hip, resting a hand there as she pressed the button on the intercom.
'Showtime.'
"Yes? Who is this?"
Percy lowered her sunglasses, looking into the camera with impatience. Good thing the camera was a little higher up—better angle.
"Yes this is Trisha Therot; I'm here to inquire about residence."
"We are fully booked. Go to Rivet." The voice said gruffly.
"Are you kidding me? The people are packed like sardines there! Besides," Percy brushed her fingers against her neck as she leaned her head to the side, the collar of her dress dragging against her cleavage.
"The briny air is terrible for my skin."
Tapping her full lips, she smirked slightly. "Surely we can come to…some sort of arrangement?"
The gates opened. The gears must have been well oiled, because they hardly caused a whisper.
The man at the front desk stood to greet them as they walked in. He couldn't help but balk at Charon.
"Welcome to Tenpenny Tower, I'm security chief Gustavo, Who is that?"
"Oh him?" Percy turned slightly, looking back at Charon a moment. He noticed the man eyeing her waist as she turned and Charon seethed.
"This is Harpocrates. He is my protection out in the wastes."
"Funny name. Wouldn't he be more comfortable without all those clothes?"
"I'm sure he would, but for your comfort he is covered. You see, Harpocrates was horribly burned from head to foot some time ago, and it can be quite difficult to look at him, even for me. As for his name, well, when you pay him as much as I do, you can name him whatever you like." She smirked, handing her hat to Charon and folding her glasses. The guard was utterly shameless as he watched her tuck them into the dip of her collar.
"Anyway…about that room?"
Gustavo sighed. "There really isn't anything I can do, ma'am. Only Mister Tenpenny can give out rooms here. However, such an elegant woman like you would have no trouble convincing him of your worth, I'm sure."
Percy's painted lips curled into a closed smile. "I might just. Could you arrange a meeting for me? I'd love to get to know Mister Tenpenny a little better."
Gustavo straightened, returning her smile. "That I can do. I'll speak with him right away."
With that, he held out his hand as if to shake hers, but when he took it, he raised it to his lips in a less that chaste gesture.
"If you like, your body guard can set your bags at the desk here; I promise no one would even think to touch them."
Percy settled into a chair in the Federalist lounge and crossed her legs. Sitting up straight with a bored expression, she picked imaginary dirt from under her nails as she said "Harpocrates, I'd appreciate a glass of wine. Get yourself a beer as well, if you're so inclined."
"Ma'am?" Charon hesitated. Hadn't she stopped drinking? She didn't look up, but her eyebrows raised.
"I don't believe I was unclear."
"…Yes, ma'am."
While he was gone, a clearly intoxicated man sat down next to her.
"Well hello! I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you! I hope you'll pardon me if we've met, but I'm terrible with faces when I've been drinking, and well," he took a rather large gulp from his glass before grinning jovially. "I've been drinking! Michael Hawthorne at your intensely inebriated service."
Charon set down Percy's drink between the two, but once again she seemed to ignore him.
"Trisha Therot. Is it true what they say? The Tower is completely ghoul free?"
"One hundred percent, my dear! No need to worry your pretty little head inside these walls."
"I don't know about worry. Aside from their looks, I've heard they can be quite nice if you're kind to them." Percy took a delicate sip of her drink, and for the first time, much to his relief, Charon saw a crack in her façade. There was a slight pucker of her lips that only he seemed to notice.
"Oh. I see." He leaned forward in interest. "Well. I've never met one, so I wouldn't know. I just always thought... I guess I really don't know what I thought..."
"It takes a pretty face to make you see reason, I see?" An older man sat on the other side of Percy, grinning ear to ear. His face was flushed, but he wasn't nearly as drunk as Hawthorn.
"Daring! You magnificent bastard! How are you, my good man?" Percy seemed completely forgotten. The two spoke as if they hadn't seen each other in ages. Apparently, Hawthorne had been perpetually drunk since he was a toddler.
"Daring? Surely you aren't Herbert Dashwood?" Percy finally got a word in.
"Yes I am! Good to know my celebrity has lasted so long! It's also refreshing to see someone as refined as you isn't a bigot!" He patted her lightly on the shoulder, flashing Hawthorne a look.
"You've heard the stories I'm sure: About the mindless ones eating brains and the like. Well, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with all that." He tried to defend himself.
"Oh those are just the ferals! If I had my way, every ghoul in their right mind should be allowed in; God knows there's plenty of room. Besides, the pre-war ones probably stayed here before the war. Can you imagine that kind of injustice?"
Percy began talking with Dashwood with renewed interest. "Is it true you had a ghoul companion?"
"Ah, Argyle…" Dashwood's eyes glazed as he was swept up in the nostalgia. "Yes, he was quite the friend for a confirmed old bachelor like myself, even before I was old. I do miss him…"
"Enough of sadness! Herbert, you need another drink!" Hawthorne pushed a shot his way and began talking emphatically about local betting pools.
Percy leaned back, seeing that she had been thoroughly cut from the conversation. She noticed Gustavo standing at the door. Excusing herself, she walked over to him.
"Good news, I hope?"
"Of course, ma'am! You seem to have caught Mister Tenpenny's interest. He says you may have a room for the night on the condition that you have dinner with him this evening…alone."
Percy couldn't help but show her surprise, but quickly recovered.
"Sounds reasonable. Harpocrates, take my things up, I'll join you shortly."
"Oh what the hell? It's not like anything interesting happens around here anyway: Let the ghouls in!" Hawthorne and Dashwood began swaying to and fro, singing off-key to whatever was playing on the jukebox.
As the elevator doors closed on Charon and Gustavo, Charon watched as Percy moved to the next room. She seemed to have a system, but that didn't dispel his concern.
Percy slammed the door with a groan, rubbing her temples. Susan Lancaster and the Wellingtons had been a handful, but she managed to convince them of an imaginary unanimous opinion against them. If she managed to convince Tenpenny himself, then their qualms would be meaningless anyway. And if Allistair truly had the last say, then he was her trump card in all of this. The smoothskins would be spared, and the ghouls could live in some level of humanity. Kicking off her shoes, Percy collapsed onto the bed next to Charon. He was reading one of the many books from the shelves here. Even though the room showed its age—wallpaper peeled, plaster chipped—great care had been done to hide this. The rugs were picked clean of dirt and the plastic flowered vases were dusted. Had Charon done this, or had the room been made up for them? Charon himself had taken off his disguise and was relaxing in a t-shirt and slacks. The image was almost…domestic.
Charon pulled her close as he continued to read. "You've been busy."
"I just hope it'll be worth it in the end. I'm sorry about earlier, by the way. I hate that I treated you like that."
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Sometimes I forget how good an actress you are. If you'd been around before the war, you'd have been in all the best movies."
"You're not mad?"
"Not at you. But Harpocrates? Really?"
"God of silence and secrets," she teased.
Charon smiled, but sighed as he turned back to his book. "Although, I have been fantasizing about cracking the skulls of those wandering eyed men for the past few hours."
Percy groaned. "That reminds me: I still need to have dinner with Tenpenny. I can't imagine what he will be like if his men were so shameless." She stretched, taking a deep breath through her nose to stretch her lungs. She noticed something.
"Is that…mint?"
Charon smirked, turning a page. "I found some toiletries in your bag. The tub runs hot rad-free water, by the way."
She practically squealed as she scooted the edge of the bed, running to the bath. As she stripped off the rest of her clothes, Charon admired her leaning over the tub to start the water. He knew he had no right to be jealous, but he couldn't help the feeling of pride that welled up in him at the idea that she had chosen him, despite it all. His eyes found the crude scarring on her lower back, narrowing for a moment before softening.
Despite it all.
Percy lined all the different soaps and lotions around the tub before sinking into the steaming bath. She looked to him with a smile.
"I wish we didn't have to leave this room. I wouldn't mind staying here forever."
The room filled with the scent of vanilla as she cleaned herself off. She curled the ends of her hair with bobby-pins until they were dry enough to stay curled. Applying the same makeup as before, she was once again the picture of pre-war beauty before him.
"Here I go," she said sadly, giving herself one last once over before the mirror. "If I'm not back in two hours, come get me. I don't trust this man, and I haven't even met him yet."
Charon stepped forward with a long piece of ribbon and a small snub nosed forty-four magnum. A silencer had been screwed onto the tip.
Kneeling, he lifted her skirt and Percy was immediately reminded of that morning.
"Easy big guy, I just got cleaned up; I don't think I have time for another bath."
Percy watched with interest as he attached the ribbon to her underwear before wrapping it around her thigh and then the gun. She hummed as he kissed her inner thigh.
"Just in case." He said, barely above a whisper.
He straightened up, rubbing her shoulders reassuringly. "Be careful."
"Always."
Percy tapped lightly on the door. She was amazed by the indoor flower garden just outside his suite. They were real, not plastic. She had never seen real flowers before!
"Come in!" An accented voice called from the other side of the door. As she entered, Percy was met with an elegantly laid table, filled with wine and food which smelled far too appetizing for the wastes. Her mouth watered despite herself.
"Well? Don't just stand there, sit down, my dear girl!"
Percy stiffened but smiled, taking a seat as he pulled out her chair. He smelled of whiskey and mothballs, but also gun oil…strange.
"So," He sat down next to her rather than across from her, on her armed side. "What brings such a pretty young thing to my tower?"
Percy leaned her chin against her palm. "The Boston commonwealth has become boring; I thought I'd like somewhere a little warmer. I heard about this place and thought it would be perfect to relax for a few months. I love the view from my suite, by the way, Mister Tenpenny."
"I'm sure this place will meet, if not exceed, your expectations. And please, call me Allistair. We are friends here."
She attempted to cover her glass as Tenpenny made to pour her some wine.
"Um…I'm sorry, but I don't drink."
Allistair snorted under his breath. "I must insist you try this bottle. It may change your entire outlook on spirits."
Percy gigged lightly, but her eyes followed his every tiny movement. "If you insist, Allistair."
Throughout the dinner, Tenpenny talked about the most boring things, from the difficulty of maintaining a pure water well, to the going prices of fresh mirelurk. Percy tried to listen with interest, but focused mostly on her food. He didn't know who she really was, but all the same, she tried to find an off-taste about her food and drink. The wine must have been very strong; she'd only taken a few sips and it was already going to her head. Then again, her tolerance wasn't what it used to be, either.
"To this day, I refuse to pay more than thirty caps for a pound. But enough about that. The view from my own suite is quite a bit more impressive, I can assure you."
"Oh my…" She exclaimed, feigning shock as she leaned against the balcony, taking in the sight.
She stilled as she felt his hand against her lower back. "My former employee thought the same thing when he saw it. You can see everything up here through a scope. Even as far as that eyesore, Megaton." Passing her a pair of binoculars and taking up his rifle, Allistair looked through the scope in the direction of the Warrington train yard, where the ghouls were holed up.
"Filthy things…The world would be a more beautiful place without those abominations." He trained his sights on a couple of them who were milking a brahmin.
"But I suppose you wouldn't have any problem with that, would you…Persephone?"
"…How did you know?"
"You think I don't have connections? That I wouldn't look into the death of my most devoted employee? That I wouldn't see that hulking abomination try to consume you through your cunt?" Percy rushed to the door, but it was locked. She felt woozy. Falling to her knees, she watched in horror as he took aim at the unknowing ghouls.
"How did you…drug me...?"
"I lined the glass with med-x, of course. But no matter. Burke had taken quite the liking to you; went on and on about his little song bird who would be the herald of spring in these barren wastes. So…Paragon of goodness, what is it like? Being powerless to save those animals you are only too willing to lie with?"
Percy began to laugh weakly. He was so wrong. She was not good, and there was nothing she could do to right this hell-scape.
Allistair turned to her in disgust, but froze as he saw the gun in her hand.
"Persephone was never the goddess of spring; that was her mother. Persephone ruled the underworld. And I..."
She cocked the hammer.
"...am the Paragon of Justice."