Re: recent review - For the purposes of this story, yes, male ghouls will have their junk attached and functional. I am not writing a tragic comedy, and my laptop will spontaneously combust if Cort gets any more frustrated. :P Besides, the females still have their boobs, so it's only fair that the guys get to keep something as well. And speaking of reviews, thanks for the new ones and the favourites! You guys are ace.


"I think you should eat something instead of sucking back on that fucking swill." Tossing his own boots towards the neat pile he had made in the corner of their belongings, Charon sprawled out next to her after taking off Dogmeat's armour for him, leaning against the headboard and lacing his fingers over his chest.

"Look, 'the fucking swill' is the only way I'm going to get through this with any of my already shattered nerves intact." Cort buried her face in one hand and groaned, then took a long pull off of the bottle. Coughing, she crossed her legs and then shuffled around to face him. "So. Uhm. First thing I should tell you is there's no real answer to the question I asked you after you asked if you loved me. Well there is, but everyone thinks it's something different, so I can only tell you what I think. And there's all different kinds of love too, depending on who's involved. Like, I love my Dad, and Dogmeat, and you, but all of those are different kinds. Like uuuh, oh shit. Like, different ammo for different guns, but it's it's all guns. Yeah. We'll just talk about the last one, our kind. Is-is this getting confusing yet?"

Charon looked at her blandly. "Usually everything gets fucking confusing once you open your mouth."

"Hey! Not all the time, it-" She calmed down when she noticed the ghoul was grinning, realizing he had been teasing her. "Oh ha ha. It's not funny you know, this is hard to do. Remember what I told you when you asked how I wanted you?" He sobered and nodded in response. "Well, you were right, it is a lot like that. Wanting the other person around, happy when they are, unhappy if they're not. You want to stay near them all the time, and it hurts if they're not there, and you feel hurt if they're hurt. You like taking care of each other, thinking about them all the time, and being attracted and wanting to do, uh, stuff. The touching and uh, other, nicer things." Cort flushed, starting to feel distinctly warm in more than one area, and took another drag out of the bottle. "You-you don't want to do any of that touching stuff with anyone else, do you?"

"Fuck no." He looked at her, disgusted. Cort smiled, suddenly happy.

"Okay then. And you don't want to leave, and like being around me, and all that? Think about me a whole lot, and the rest of the stuff I said sounds right?"

"Fuck no, yes, yes, yes." She smiled wider at his answers, watching him flip out a thumb and three fingers as he rattled them off.

All right. Then yes Charon, you probably love me."

"Good. I like that."

Cort relaxed and quietly sipped what was left of the scotch, pleased that the difficult conversation had turned out to be relatively painless and starting to get a comfortable buzz. I don't care if I'm hung over, I deserve a drink after all that. I deserve an entire bar. I deserve an entire city block of-

"So what other nice things can we do?" Charon smartly caught the bottle before it could impact on the mattress and spill over everything while Cort coughed and sputtered. "You really need to stop fucking doing that." Looking at her watering eyes critically, the ghoul leaned forward and placed the half-full container on the floor instead of giving it back to her.

"Yeah I really should. Uh, other things. Right. There's a few things, that people can do with each other, extremely nice things, oh God, are they ever, which I'm not sure I can tell you about, since...since...I haven't..." Frustrated, she groaned and placed her head in her hands, the momentary calm she had gotten from the alcohol starting to burn away from a mix of overly strained nerves and rising arousal.


Listening to Cort wind herself up, Charon reached over and started rubbing one hand up and down her back, making small circles around the base of her spine where she always seemed to particularly like it. Remembering his own difficulties but still wanting to know what could be nicer than all the touching had been, he tried a different approach as she started to arch her back and squirm at the attention. "Can you show me instead?" Stiffening, she dropped her hands and turned to face him, a predatory look starting to shutter over her features.

"Can I? Yes. Oh fuck yes." He had a moment to wonder why she suddenly sounded aggressive, a complete about face from her earlier stutter, before the impact of her body nearly knocked the air clean out of him. Reflexively throwing up his arms to grab her as she straddled him, his efforts to draw in another breath were hampered by the fact that Cort had solidly planted her mouth over his, shutting her eyes as she did it. This was definitely nicer, even with the lightheadedness he was starting to feel. He managed to pull in a breath when she broke away to take one of her own, and found that it didn't do anything to dispel the feeling, which only got worse as she slid her tongue into his mouth, tasting of bitter alcohol and something sweeter, and very, very hot. All of her was hot, especially where her thighs were wrapped around his torso, and it felt positively wonderful.

No wonder that fuckhead merchant liked this so much. This is fucking fantastic. Charon started pushing his mouth back against hers, carefully paying attention and emulating her motions as she made them. Taking it as approval when Cort squeezed harder with her legs and start to rub her hands down over his back, he started moving his own, working his fingers over her ribs. Acting on impulse, he thrust a hand up the back of her shirt as he buried the other one into her hair and was rewarded with another crushing squeeze and a long groan. If touching her through her shirt had been nice, this was practically heaven. Her skin was burning, and all of it was beautifully smooth wherever he touched it. Liking the feel of it immensely, he worked his other hand down and joined it with where the first had gone, then started moving them everywhere he could reach. Everywhere he could reach now included everything on her front, and Charon finally closed his own eyes when one large hand found a very soft breast. Oh holy shit. These are fucking fantastic. Why didn't I fucking find these things before.

Cort had generally had her arms folded over them as a matter of course whenever she was lying down, and when they weren't her chest was covered by ablative plating, effectively rendering anything under it non-existent. The ghoul proceeded to make up for weeks of lost time by methodically fondling both of them, encouraged when she began punctuating the endless kissing with delightfully sharp bites and little noises. Driving his employer into a positive frenzy when he homed in on the particularly sensitive areas and bit back in imitation of her, Cort started doing something new to him. Pulling his shirt up and running smooth hands over his rough sides, she began rolling her hips and pushing down against his groin as hard as she could. Through the warm haze in his mind Charon felt a sense of apprehension working its way though to the forefront as something else started to work its way up, something that was causing her to redouble her efforts and movements. What it doubled for Charon was a spike of fear that removed his arousal entirely, old lessons and buried training punching through as Cort slipped a hand down between them. This-this isn't supposed to happen. This isn't fucking supposed to happen! What the fuck did she do to me, what the fuck is she doing? What the fuck, fuck no, nonoNO!

A number of things happened in quick succession. Cort was ejected from the ghoul's lap without warning, yelping out a protest before her head cracked against the bed frame, the complaint turning rapidly into a pained whimper. Dogmeat barked, alarmed by the sudden movement, and came over to nuzzle at Cort when she started to make her hurt noises. Charon grabbed his boots up in one hand, fumbling for the doorknob with the other, and then did something that he had never done before in his life. He ran away.


"Jesus Christ, that was not nice touching. What the fuck was that for, Charon? Charon?" Cort managed to get one look at his frantic face before the door slammed. Pulling Dogmeat closer to her as he licked her face, she stared at the floor and suppressed the urge to cry, the throbbing knot forming at the back of her head making it difficult. The scotch sloshing around in the rest of her did nothing to help her efforts either, and she griped while trying to collect her senses. "Dogmeat, what the hell, I'm supposed to be the nervous one crossing my legs. Fuck, you'd think he's never had a girl jump him bef-oh. Oh no. Oh fucking Christ, I'm a fucking idiot. What did I just do to him? Jesus, I have to go find him."

Deciding that boot laces were something that she didn't want to spend time fooling around with, she yanked off both her socks to find better traction on the metal floors and ran to the door. Opening it, she found no one in the corridors and no indication of where Charon had gone. Hissing with frustration, she signalled Dogmeat to follow and then pulled the door shut after coming out into the hallway, ripping a bobby-pin out of her pocket to lock the door from the outside. "Momma needs your help more than she needs you to protect our junk. Find Charon baby, go find him for Momma." Cort padded silently after the dog as he immediately took off up the hallways, bee-lining for the metal staircase next to the main entrance as he snuffled across the floor. Heading up the stairs and breaking off whenever the dog scratched at a new door, they emerged outside a few minutes later, stepping onto the deserted flight deck of the carrier.

Not quite deserted if Dogmeat brought me up here. "You stay here and let me know if anyone else comes out, all right honey?" She smiled as the dog softly whuffed, then quietly started wandering around the metal expanse of the deck, being careful to stay back from the sides. Looping around the entire expanse and going so far as to search inside the derelict aircraft, she finally found Charon towards the stern, almost invisible in the darkness. At some point he had put his boots back on, and the erratic thumping had helped her to home in on his location. "Charon?"

"What the fuck did you do to me, Cort." Wincing as she walked up to him, she tried to keep up with his random pacing, repeating the expression when he jerked his hand away from her reaching one.

"I did what you asked me to."

"No! I'm not supposed to feel that, feel like that. It's wrong. That. That's not what I fucking asked for." Charon bent his head and laced his hands on the back of his neck in a familiar posture of distress and continued walking around. Practically jogging to keep up with his longer legs and skidding with his sudden turns, she placed a hand on his back and was almost knocked off her feet when he rounded on her. "Don't fucking TOUCH me, Cort! It's not right!"

Recovering, she resumed her half-jog, this time with her hands firmly in her pockets. "Okay okay, see, no hands, I put them away, you're fine. But why isn't it? It seemed to be pretty right up until a few minutes ago, really right, and whenever else we did it. Why can't you now?"

"It's, it's against training, I'm not supposed to. It's wrong, it's fucking wrong, and I'm not doing it again."

Cort felt her heart break, listening to how frantic he was getting over doing something that was natural as breathing for regular people. Oh, what did they do to you. If I could find them I would slaughter them all by inches. "Charon, if you'll just let me get close I can show you it's all right and-"

"I FUCKING SAID NO, CORT!"

She stepped back as he screamed at her, finally coming to a halt himself and staring at her from the edge of the deck. Fretting at the impasse of needing to comfort him but not being able to, she started to get an extremely bad but brilliant idea. Well. I can't fix this if I can't show him touching me is fine, or even talk to him about it, so. Going to have to make him touch me, whether he likes it or not. If this doesn't shake him right the fuck out of it, nothing will. Riding on a crash of emotions and half a bottle of cheap scotch, Cort backed herself up even farther, calculating how to execute the incredibly stupid plan she had come up with.

"Charon?" Aiming herself for a path that would take her almost directly past him, she lowered herself into a half-crouch and braced one bare foot behind her, toes against a seam in the metal.

"What."

She spent a moment wondering if the risk was worth the payoff, and then shrugged to herself, deciding it was. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. I want him back. "Please be quick, okay? I'm pretty sure I can't fly."

"What?"

Cort pushed off into a flat-out sprint, her feet pounding out a rhythmic staccato against the decking as she ran. Laughing triumphantly as he darted towards her, she pelted towards the edge of the carrier and launched herself off of it, airborne over the dizzying height for a split-second before a strong arm slammed itself into her waist and yanked her back from the abyss she had flung herself towards. She crashed to the ground facing Charon, who had pulled her in tightly to protect her from the impact.

"There, see? Not that bad. Want to let go now?" He looked at her, horrified, while scrabbling his feet against the deck to push them farther away from the drop off.

"You fucking crazy little bastard, I'm fucking never letting you go after that shit! What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Cort grinned like a lunatic and wrapped her arms around his neck as best as she could while pinned to the deck. "No, I'm trying to save you. See? The touching thing is okay. Actually very beneficial for me at the moment, or I'd be flatter than Susie Mack's chest." Belatedly realizing what he was doing, Charon started trying to pull himself loose as she giggled crazily, stopping cold after her next statement. "You let go and I'm going to go right back to throwing myself off of this thing."

"No fucking way. You fucking wouldn't."

"I already did it once, didn't I? And now I'm high on adrenaline as well as drunk. So, you will listen to me, Charon." Gratified when his attitude mellowed out at her authoritative tone, Cort settled down to discuss what had just happened. "I'm sorry if I pushed too hard and made you uncomfortable, but what we were doing and what you felt was not wrong. It was completely, entirely, biologically normal, I promise, and I felt the same things too."

Charon stiffened up again, ready to protest. "No, it's wrong, and-"

"Why? Because some assholes who screwed with your head told you so? They're what's wrong, not you." She frowned, aggravated when he continued to disagree with her.

"I am not supposed to do this."

"I don't remember seeing that written in your contract." Charon blinked in surprise, and Cort smiled, having found a way in. "I do remember ordering you to do whatever you wanted to do, and obeying your employer was in there. So. What do you want? Take your time thinking about it, I'm not going anywhere." She dropped her head onto her shoulder and quietly watched him, waiting.

Charon was stuck in a mental and emotional quandry. The ghoul was not sure what he found more upsetting, the loss of security he felt as more of the rules laid down in him degraded, or the frightening uncertainty of the things Cort was offering to replace them with. Reassuringly, his employer had always been able to fill any holes she had managed to tear open, keeping him whole but changing him as a result. Unfortunately, change for him was usually terrifying. He remembered asking her how she could be competent one minute and foolish the next while they had been assaulting the MoT, and her snapped reply to him seemed to be apt, compared to what he was now going through. Growing pains. I suppose that fucking fits. I haven't felt this fucking screwed up since I was growing up. Where the flying fuck do I even start with this. Charon looked down at her, looking for advice and stalling at the same time.

"Cort. How the fuck am I supposed to figure this out."

She drowsily answered him a few seconds later, stifling a yawn. "Loopholes, Charon. Contract. Keep thinking."

Charon thought. Obeying the contract and his orders was the most important thing. There was nothing in the contract regarding feeling emotions or engaging in pleasurable physical behaviours towards or with the holder. Cort was his employer, and had come to represent his contract. His contract told him to do what he wanted. He blinked again as she let out another yawn, fanning his face with it, her breath still saturated with the scent of scotch and whatever the unidentifiable sweetness hidden beneath it was. Her eyes focused in on him for a second, and as she mouthed the word 'loopholes' at him, smiling while she did it, something finally hit him. If he had been able to kill the bastard who instructed him not to do what Cort wanted to do, then why couldn't he ignore him too? Charon firmly pushed his misgivings aside with this thought and went with what he had been ordered to do, his core tenet of obedience to his employer never having been in question. It was still solid, and he clung to it as he clung to Cort. "I want you. All of it."

"I never doubted. Don't worry anymore, okay? We'll just do everything when you want to. I can have patience in spades if you need it. Even if it will drive me crazy." Cort closed her eyes, right on the edge of nodding off as he reached up and started tugging at her hair, his stiff frame relaxing into hers. "Charon?"

"What, Cort."

"Can we please go sleep in the bed instead of out here. It's really uncomfortable."

"Yes Cort. We can go to bed."