Knock knock

Evelyn thrust open the door, ready to bite at the encroaching intruder. Cross was standing there, unsurely, a wine bottle with two stemmed glasses in his hands.

"I got your favorite," he said rather poorly. "Bartender almost shot me; had to pay extra."

The betrayal of pure appreciation for him bloomed on her face, despite the anger she still felt clawing at her insides. Cautiously, he stepped inside. He waited as she closed the door behind him, uncorking the bottle and pouring her a glass.

Her damp hair was beginning to let loose its wavy curls over one shoulder, and she was dressed in nothing but a tightfitting shirt and his favorite pair of lingerie. It wasn't often you found intact lace, in the wasteland.

She thrummed her fingers along the side of her drink, and he took a seat on the edge of her bed. Neither spoke a word for a stretch of time, until the merc drank from his own glass and grimaced.

"And you say my choice is bad. So damn sweet- ugh." He put the drink aside, reaching inside of his jacket for a small flask that he began to unscrew. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. "It's for emergencies."

She took a sip and tipped her chin at his jacket. "Just what exactly do you all have in there?"

A pensive thought. "Damn near everythin' I need, I suppose."

"Like what?"

The merc slid a hand inside on the right, pulling out two crinkled, worn pieces of paper. She instantly recognized the writings she had previously left him, and she felt herself melting for him. There was a blush, and she hid her face behind one hand as he grinned at her abashment.

"I'm still pissed off at you," she said with a smile.

"Uh-huh."

There was a pause as she drained her glass and gasped loudly. Cross could see she was beginning to feel buzzed, and before she could dredge up anything that could turn into an argument, a second glass was poured.

"Trying to get me drunk enough to come to bed?" she quipped meanly, swallowing the drink all the same.

A chuckle. "Three glasses ain't really a try."

There was a crinkle to her nose as she tilted her glass back.

"Okay, maybe two is enough-" He reached for her empty glass, setting it down beside his own. "-you good?"

"What's the point of bringin' me a drink if I can't even enjoy it?" She badgered, swaddling his lap and poking him in the chest.

"Cause you're startin' to talk like me, that's why." The merc licked his thumb and roughly wiped away the small remnants of blood on the underside of her chin that she had missed from earlier. "You got to stop doin' that," he growled, scrutinizing the small scar she had gained over the pink flesh.

"It's habit," she said a little weakly.

"Well get a goddamn new one."

"Terrible advice comin' from you," she drawled, leaning into him with all her weight. "…I'm sorry…"

He gave an exasperated chuckle. She was driving him fucking nuts, and yet he couldn't leave her if he genuinely tried…he had gotten as far as his door. When he finally looked down at her, she was staring at him with childlike eyes.

"Me too," he said honestly.

A hiccup. "I'm just…lost."

"Makes two of us," he said a little sadly.

A cautious arm wrapped itself around her. "Huggin' a damn mannequin is more comfortable than this." She was stock-still against him, and he felt her beginning to soften from his quip.

"Is that from experience?" she softly asked into his jacket.

He blew air from his cheeks. "I ain't too proud of that story."

"I want to hear it, sometime," she muffled into him, her fingers opening the front of his jacket to plunge her arms inside. She buried her head under a flap. "What is this?" Her voice was stifled from under his coat.

"Huh?" He felt her nab at something in one of his multiple inner pockets.

She withdrew, and in between her front teeth was-

Oh, shit. There was the metal clinking of a key.

"Why the hell would you put that in your mouth?" He nabbed at it, and she growled as she held onto it like a dog. "Spit that out, you do not know where that's been."

A spetwoo, and he held it to the side and shook the saliva from it.

"What does that go to?"

A defeated sigh. "It…belongs to a woman…I used to see."

"And you're keeping it why?" she raged.

"To be honest, kind of forgot it was in here," he lied, the key disappearing back inside. It was one more thing he couldn't seem to get rid of…one more thing tying him to her…and he was already venturing a guess that Evelyn was going to be its next proprietor.

She sputtered, "And it's going back in?!"

"Got to give it back, don't I?"

Evelyn gave a blank look, then burst out into cynical laughter. "You're serious?! When are you planning on visiting this one?"

"Pretty damn soon, I guess," he growled, and her laughter ceased as she furrowed her brows at him.

"She's…in Braxton?" she presumed.

The ghoul rubbed at the back of his head. "It's not what you-"

"I don't want to hear it." The low threat of her tone made him pause.

"Are we goin' to go through this every fuckin' time?" he raged aggravatedly.

Their arguing was like a damn switch, flipping on and off at a moment's notice. It was getting exhausting, both mentally, and emotionally. His hands came to her face, and he tilted her chin upwards and kissed her. He spoke to her in a low, murmuring voice. "It's nothin' serious, okay? Just another thing in the past…so let's leave it there."

"…how long has it been since you've been back to Braxton?" she quietly asked.

"Almost…almost ten years…"

She clenched her fist, a furious look set on her face, and for a moment, he was afraid she would strike him. "Ten years and you're still carrying it around? That's not something just left in the past."

"Holy fuckin' hell-" he rasped.

"Was…is it Darcy's? Did you- and her-?" There was an uncomfortable expression on her face.

"Hell no." He shook his shoulders at the implication. "But yeah...it's hers."

"…why didn't you tell me before?" She went to remove herself. "Why the fuck are you carrying that around? What does it go to-h-hey!"

"Sometimes, you just talk too fuckin' much." A throaty growl, and he ensnared her jaw in one large palm as his other cupped a breast roughly.

"Ow- too hard," she complained.

A firm squeeze, and she squirmed. He was in a really, bad mood then. The weight of his head pressed against her temple, and he murmured explicit, sexual images into her skull in a somewhat- frustrated- tone. He twisted a nipple through her shirt, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, and his fingers traveled down her navel and reached under her underwear and between her wet folds. He got her extremely close, but never finished. There was a flush kiss against her temple, and he threw her from his lap and onto the mattress, still fully clothed and his expression smoldering.

She half-turned in place, soaked down along her inner thighs. "What the fuck?"

He had already closed the door behind him, effectively silencing the colorful cursing that streamed from her mouth.


"Hey cutie, need some company tonight?" A man brazenly approached her.

"Fuck off," Lydia warned, her visible bristling not enough to deter the stranger.

The man went to open his mouth again, but a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around. "Go."

The ghoul then shoved him to the side roughly, and he heard the click of a switchblade whip out. He sighed, drawing out his gun. The safety clicked off as he took aim, and the stranger froze. "You suicidal, or somethin'?"

He motioned with his gun for the man to leave, and the stranger hastily scrambled and curtailed down the way from view. "Damn kids," he muttered.

Lydia was just standing off to the side, staring out into the open wasteland with her arms crossed and expression fuming. There was an unlit cigarette being held in between her fingertips, and the merc snatched it.

"Wh-hey!"

He inspected it, then flicked it into a puddle on the side of the street. "You're too young to make dumb decisions like me…especially for bad taste like that." He eyed her; she was shivering from the cold. "Didn't pack for the weather?" he joked again.

A hint of a smile.

He drew out his own cig and cupped a palm around his mouth as he lit the end of it, ignoring her hypocritical stare. An inhale, and the white smoke curled out from his mouth and into his nostrils. "Are you suicidal? What the fuck you doin' all the way out here? I got enough reasons for Carly to be pissed at me."

The carefully planned words and thoughts she had been mulling over since their departure were gone out the wayside, rather, she just sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "Job was boring…not my kind of work."

The merc blinked at her, and she shifted the weight of her feet, startling as he erupted into a roar of hoarse laughter.

"Just what is your kind of work, kid? Stealin' and lootin' ain't favorable professions in the wasteland, trust me, I've been around long enough to know."

A frown, and she jutted her chin stubbornly out at the wastes. "I'm good with…stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Forget it."

"You don't have to bite the hand that fed ya," he drawled.

"…what does that mean?"

A slow shake of his head, and he merely stood there and finished his smoke. When he was finished, the butt was dropped to the wet asphalt and rolled under his heel; the ashy embers dissolving against the blackened concrete.

"Did ya get a room?"

"…I'm fine out here. I'm used to it."

Christ. He coughed into a fist and spat to the side. "Did Campbell just leave ya out here to fend for yourself?"

A scowl set on her lips, and he nudged her with his elbow roughly. "C'mon, we got ourselves an extra one."


The plan had horrendously backfired.

"I was just playin'-" he pleaded.

"Yeah, me too," Evelyn said flatly.

"Ughhh-" The bounty hunter didn't understand, shouldn't she be just as miffed as he was? He was overly eager to fuck her, but she just appeared, unfazed. "-there ain't no way you're not dyin' like me."

"No," she coolly replied with a shrug, "I just finished myself."

His jaw dropped open. "You what."

"Oh my God, I'm sure I don't have to explain it to you."

"…you didn't bother askin' if I wanted to stay and watch?"

The lightly tanned skin of her face lit up like a cherry firework. "No?!" She leaned away from the devious expression he garnered. "No."

"C'mon-"

"No- why?!"

A garbled sigh and he ran his hands dramatically down his face. He was fucking sober, irritated, and horny as hell. "I need a fuckin' drink."

There was the sound of a bottle being uncorked, and he snapped his head up to witness her taking a long draught from the wine he had bought for her.

He stretched over to seize it. "Goin' to make yourself sick."

The half-empty bottle was set on the nightstand, and when he rolled back to her, she had drawn flush against him. He was about to open his mouth to speak, and she raised her head and planted a kiss on his jaw; her soft lips were making a trail to his mouth, and his hands made the first move, his fingers hitching the hem of her shirt upwards. They shared a desperate kiss, and he felt himself grow hard and anxious.

She appeared almost- dreamlike, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was the influence of the alcohol or her genuine desire for him. The garment came over her head, and he tossed it to the side of the mattress as she surveyed his lower body with the light traces of her fingertips. She encompassed him with her hand and gave a squeeze, and he groaned quietly in her ear. Whatever thoughts he had previously of their fight that night were gone; he was sure she could feel the erratic thump of his heart as he pulled her on top of himself. A bite of her lower lip, and she was beginning to lower herself onto him; there was a stifled cry out and he shuddered as he gripped her waists urgently. She was hotly dripping all over his erection, and she whimpered as he directed her back upwards, drawing his knees up slightly and then pumping away at her.

"Wait-wait! Fuck!" she cried out, her breasts bouncing against her chest.

He was only able to last for a few minutes until he bottomed himself out in her as he came. A garbled moan escaped his lips, and they both sat there with him still inside of her.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I'll make it up to you."

She gave a breathy sigh, rubbing at her forehead with her fingertips, and removed herself. The airs he was receiving from her were choppy; he was actually afraid she was going to leave him again until she leaned forward and smooshed her body flat against his own.

"So rude." She kissed his chest. "Especially after what you did to me- I expected better from you."

The merc chuckled in relief, hugging her tightly. "You get me so fuckin' wound up, you worry me sometimes."

"I wind you up? Mr. here's your dead mother's key to something I won't bother telling you about cause fuck you-eek!"

He had rolled them over, and he had her pinned down with a furious expression. "You really want to go there?"

"One way or another, it appears I will be. Braxton, here we come!" She sunk her head back into the mattress slightly as he leaned closer to her. Evelyn had become so accustomed to Charon's massive size that the bounty hunter didn't really register, but she was then quickly reminded just how tiny she was compared to him…and Evelyn herself was average height, at least.

It was a turn-on, and she bit her bottom lip coyly as she flushed hotly under his burning expression. His palm came to rest under her chin, and his fingers wound up the sides of her face, and he gave a firm clasp of pressure.

"We're not gonna do this again, are we?" Evelyn gasped out from his strong hold on her. "Where you leave the job unfinished? I thought you never failed to deliver-"

His hand had traveled downwards and swathed completely over her neck; she was getting very good at knowing where to prod with him. A light squeeze, and she felt the warm bloom of blood pool in her face. He had never done this before.

…but it also wasn't her first time, and she grinned wolfishly at him, earning a glower.

"Aw, why so shy, Cowboy? This other guy I fucked actually left his handprint-" A firmer choke as he sunk her into the mattress, and she instinctively grabbed at his wrist with both hands. He was terrifyingly powerful, something that she had never experienced before due to his mindful handling when it came to her physically. There was a desperate gasp as she drew in air greedily, and she licked her lips nervously. "Is this how you vent, when you learn your ladies have to satisfy themselves?"

The drunken buzz was making her stupidly arrogant, and she merely gave a toothy smile at the obvious displeasure he felt with her words.

He pressed his face into the side of hers, and his hot breath washed over her ear and neck. He began to whisper in that desperate, raspy tone again various suggestive things that made her visibly squirm from imaginative pleasure. She felt herself simply melt under him, and she grew limp when he finally pulled back from her.

"You've never acted this way before." Was all she said, and she had to breathe in deeply to refocus herself. "Do…do you do this…with other-"

"No."

"Oh." She hid her smile behind her hand, that faint-headed sensation dissolving her brain. "Uhm…"

"You like that?"

A whisper. "…yeah."

His hand gave another tight grip around her trachea, and he whispered devilishly into her ear as he had his way with her.


That morning had come, and he was the first to awaken. Gently, he unlatched her from his side, pausing as he took notice of the purple bruising she had garnered around the delicate skin of her neck.

Holy shit- Charon was going to fucking murder him, probably with his monster bare hands. The merc could decently put up a good enough fight, if he was smart, but therein lay the biggest problem- Charon was smart too. The fucker was a literal walking, breathing, killing machine. Maybe, if he were to-

A blue eye blinked at him, and then suddenly she was staring at him. "Hey, what's wrong?" She sat up, laying a hand gently on his forearm. "You look…so worried."

"I fucked up," he admitted.

Her expression contorted into bewilderment. "How…like, as in-"

"No- oh shit, nonononono-" he quickly added at her suspicions, gnashing his teeth together at his almost costly misinterpretation. "I just-uh-you might want to go see for yourself…"

Her hand instantly drew up to the colored flesh. "Is it bad?"

"You got a scarf, or somethin'?"

"I do…Charon's going to be pissed." She clambered over the edge of the bed, tucking her hair behind her ears as she searched for something inside of her pack.

He used the bathroom and then came around the side and examined her; she was fiddling with a piece of worn parchment in her hands, chewing her lower lip in thought. He had noticed the ferryman handing it to her the previous night, and he was curious of its value. "What is that? A letter?"

"It's…it's his contract," she finally relented, closing her eyes. "Charon is not like other people…he has this." She held it out to him, and the bounty hunter took it into his palms, his eyes traveling over the faded lettering. "He is bound to whomever he is employed to…it's why he came back to me. I should have just told you, I'm sorry."

"Fuckin' hell Evelyn." He gave a low gruff. "He's a damn slave."

"I…I know," she whispered. Her fingers were nervously wringing themselves together. "But he doesn't think of it like that, trust me, we've had the conversation a dozen times before. He's just…Charon."

"So then get rid of it." He thrust the paper back at her. "Burn it."

"I can't. It's-it's all he has, in his mind."

"So you are goin' to keep him."

"He's not a fucking pet," she growled, her temper rising. "He's…he's my friend- I had intended on coming back for him after Braxton."

The merc almost opened his mouth to contradict her words, but he hurriedly stopped himself before his thoughts were spoken verbally. He did not want the ghost of Darcy reforming again.

"Ugh," Cross grumbled; the notion of the ferryman in their lives again soured his mood, and he didn't bother in hiding it. Scritch scritch as his fingers met with his bald head and he scratched at it. His milky eyes flitted to her face, and they drew down in a frown. She was staring at him with a pleading look in her doe eyes, and to him, it was irresistible.

"What?" he arbitrarily asked, knowing full well he would already say yes.

"I…" She held the paper out to him. "I want you, to have it."