Cross wasn't really seeing her; he was seeing a face covered in black ash and dark blood, bursting into a wild inferno. A feeling of total anguish filled him, and he stopped his rhythm and just held on to her tightly, refusing to meet her eyes. His hands were frantically clawing at a foreign body, tracing over perfect, unscarred skin and soaking in the sweet scent of something new and untouched. He was now shaking and released her, screwing his eyes shut as he clutched at his head. Why didn't he bring that fucking bottle of bourbon with him-

"What is it?" she asked him gently.

The question hurt him in more ways than he could ever imagine. "I fucked up...with us. There was this woman, that fuckin' singer, and when you left-fuck-we-uh-"

She tenderly kissed his jawline. "It's fine."

"You're the only good thing I've had in my life in a long fuckin' time- I'm sorry, Evelyn." He began to reach for her, but then drew his hands down before they made their way to touch her leg. One clenched into a fist. "I-I didn't know what else to do, at the time-"

"Cross." Her tone made him quiet. "It's okay. I'm not blaming you, so don't blame yourself." She leaned forward and placed a hand on his bicep. "You're alright."

The absolute patient sincerity in her eyes made him choke up, and he felt a hot tear escape from the corner of his eye. "God, I never deserved you. I'm so sorry."

"You're a good person, Cross."

"No, I'm not. I fuckin' hurt you, and you sure as shit didn't deserve it," he countered hoarsely. "I've done so much fucked up shit, Evelyn."

You have no idea who I really am.

She gave him a light squeeze. "I think we just need to learn from our past mistakes."

You don't know what I left here for.

"Was I...a mistake?" he asked quietly.

God, out of all the people in the world- why did it have to be you?

A shake of her head. "No...you- you're one of the best things in my life."

His fingers roughly rubbed at his eyes, and he felt her warm body curl underneath his linked arms. Her head nuzzled into his jacket as she wrapped herself around him, and he desperately clung to her and buried his face in her hair. It immediately calmed him. When his emotions were kept back in check, she slowly lifted her face to meet his.

"Still a big baby...I don't think that'll ever change."

He lowered his mouth to hers to exchange a kiss.

"I'm sorry-I-" He sadly sighed. "...I'm sorry I lied to you."

"I know." She smiled. "I love you."

A hint of a hopeful ember in him began to flare, and he breathed laboriously as he reached his hands for her face.

"Fuck, I don't even know where to start." He brought them back and rubbed at his jaw. "That moment, back at Avery's, when you fuckin' set me up, I thought to myself, 'Shit, I got to act like an angry old asshole', and yet your damn eyes kept drawin' me in, and I knew, 'if she's goin' to shoot me, I hope it's somewhere I can stem the bleedin'."

She laughed.

"I didn't even get your name, that night. I was so pissed off at you; I hadn't had a woman make me that angry in so long. When...when you busted open that safe, and you pulled me onto you-"

"I did no such thing, you pervert."

"-and you kissed me, I thought, 'If I fuck this up, I deserve to go to Hell.' Evelyn, you're the most beautiful woman I'll ever meet. You're... Fuck- um, when you cracked my skull, at Crawshad- damn, you're right, I am a fuckin' goon. Can't believe how badly I fucked up, how fuckin' stupid I am."

"Persistently deaf and stupid," she sarcastically mused.

He chuckled and swaddled her face with both palms. "I should've seen that damn landmine 'bout a hundred yards out. I was so distracted with thoughts of you that I was fuckin' mad the thing interrupted me."

Her lower lip began to quiver, but her eyes were swimming with warmth for him.

"When-when, damn, when you were so fuckin' angry with me, I was afraid I had lost you at that point. I didn't know what to do. I had lived life so long drinkin' and fuckin' that I felt like it was all a lie, like there was somethin' better out there that I didn't know the secret to."

His thumbs wiped at the tears down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, I was so goddamn dreamy over you I didn't see those fucks... It still kills me, seein' these scars." His hands went down and stroked her wet inner thigh. "I thought, 'This is it, she's gone, I fuckin' lost her again and she was still just pissed off at me. I couldn't even make her laugh, or smile before she left me', and then I thought, 'Charon's goin' to fuckin' kill me', and I didn't even care, because then I'd have another chance at seein' ya again, and this time I could crack a joke and get you to forgive me in the next life."

She smiled as she softly sobbed.

"I finally realized how fuckin' selfish I was, and how much I didn't want to admit it to myself, because it was one more reason why I didn't deserve to be with someone like you. I wanted you so badly, I lied to myself, and I lied to you, and I'm sorry. I don't want to lie to you, but I'm so afraid of you finally realizin' that there's actual good men- who still have fuckin' hair, c'mon- Campbell doesn't count, do I have a story for you- and I don't want you to leave me for them... Although, guess I'm safe on that, seein' your damn taste in 'em." He kissed her forehead. "I...I can't give you kids, I wish I could, I do, and I'm sorry I am the way I am. Probably for good reason- would've come out as damn demons, feral and angry at the world."

"They would've been perfect," she breathed hotly against his neck.

"Yeah...they would've been." He kissed her nose. "You're so violent- never thought I'd ever say that in an endearin' sorta way- and witty, you just keep spinnin' me in circles and I'm killin' myself over here tryin' to keep up. I want to thank you for diggin' me out of that hole I've been buryin' myself in these past two hundred years, just next time, don't hit me with the damn shovel when I'm tryin' to crawl out."

She laughed again and kissed him deeply.

He rasped, sweet and slow, "I'm the worst man God put on this Earth, who fell for the most beautiful woman he could ever hope to find."

"...isn't that love?" she asked a little sadly.

His heart thumped painfully in his chest.

"No." He cradled her face gently, bringing her lips to his own. "This is."

The moist, warm rush of her breath licked at the exposed muscles of his neck, an oasis breeze across his desert. There wasn't the frantic, mind-numbing animalistic fuck he had previously promised himself he would break her hips with. He had never made love to a woman this way like he was now, not even with his wife. All two hundred years had led him to this moment, and if given the choice, he would follow its broken, fucked up trail of sanity-numbing breadcrumbs all over again for her.

Her small palms held his face to guide his mouth down to her own; parted, inviting, tasting so sweet he grew light-headed from the euphoric sensation tingling down his spine.

"I love you," she breathed, and he felt a boom of thunder clap behind his ribs, the ghostly pain from their first encounter sharp; molten lightning racing through the fissures.

"I love you, too."

He had said it.

He had finally fucking said it, and it with such honesty and tenderness she gave a light whimper in response, the red flush in her cheeks blooming a brighter shade. There was no doubt in his mind that it felt right; it felt so fucking right.

"God, I love you," he repeated, and they kept their stare into one another's eyes as he thrust longer, fiercer strokes, hitting that wall of soft flesh as he forced his girth to the very tip.

She whimpered a second time, fraught, needy, her palms coming above her head, and he weighted them down under the chains of his own. His fingers engulfed them tightly; there was nothing more to want, nothing more to need. The steady, powerful beat of his heart was now being held in his hands; the blood through his veins was her whispered words and depthless eyes.

"I loved you this whole time." He was rambling now, his rasp wobbling from nerves at his blunt confessions. "You're all I've ever wanted."

...and all I'll ever need.


The glowing ghoul had a cross look. "You cannot be serious."

"What?" The merc closed the door behind him before proceeding to buckle his belt with a sly wink. "Bounty hunter business."

"There are some rather important discussions that still need to be had. Is she-?"

Cross reopened the door a crack to peer inside before shutting it firmly again. He awkwardly worked his way around his duster for a smoke, the limited mobility of his chained hands making it difficult. "Don't think she'll be up for awhile."

"You are a degenerate animal," Thomas stated matter-of-factly.

"Lucky one, I guess." He shrugged, and then a massive, shit-eating grin broke out. "I mean, could've ended up like you-" A .45 was brandished in the merc's face with lightning reflex, but his grin only spread a little further. "Huh, guess I hit a nerve."

"I did say you would be shot on sight if you ever-"

A snort escaped the grey ghoul, and he placed an unlit cigarette in his mouth while his thumb worked at the spark wheel of his lighter. He frowned as it failed to light; it was out of fluid. Begrudgingly, it was stowed away with the smoke. "Did ya know she has a kink for handcu-" He quickly sidestepped to the right as he observed Thomas' index finger beginning to depress the trigger.

A gunshot let off down the hall.

Cross waggled his cuffed hands at the riled ghoul. "Goin' to take that as a no."

"Thomas, what are you doing?!"

Both turned their heads to the rosy ghoul coming around the corner.

Cross cupped a palm to the side of his mouth and bent a few inches toward him, whispering, "Does she ever have to cover ya in a blackout curtain to get some sleep?"

Penny warily eyed the drawn weapon, rasping, "Is everything alright?" She gave a side glance to the merc, who shrugged at her, appearing completely innocent.

"Think he's finally..." Two gloved fingers made small circles at the side of his head. "I feel more feral just standin' next to him." Cross halfway turned, spinning the knob of a door. "I'll be gettin' back, now."

With a quick dip, the second lieutenant was left with her supervisor, and there was a click of the lock.

Evelyn lazily raised herself off the table and blew out a tired sigh.

"Don't you have your own room?" she drowsily asked. She didn't think she could go again- her nerves were so shot they ached.

"Kind of fuckin' question is that?" he growled. He blinked at the space between her legs- she was still naked. "Ya want somethin' to clean up with?"

Her eyes grew wide, her earlier stupor swept away with the blossom of her chagrin. Her legs crossed the edge as she sat upright, wincing from the sore muscles that had been ruthlessly pounded into since their reunion in the Vault. A fat drop of semen from her cunt made a plop on the floor as she stood, and they both stared at it.

"Damn... If I weren't a fuckin' ghoul, I'd have knocked ya straight up." He bypassed her to reach for her clothes as she struggled to bend over.

"You would have knocked every woman up," she quipped a little meanly.

"Nah...just you."

There was a swipe at her vaginal region after she turned around. She squeaked and stiffened; Cross had wiped at the remainder of his drooling mess between her thighs.

"Stop it!" she seethed.

"What?" He shoved the tattered scarf inside a drawer- an unwelcome surprise for someone once they were good and gone. "Just helpin'." He watched her go about snapping the band of her underwear on. "We would've made some cute kids. Would've been runnin' round with the damn deathclaws."

She felt her heart pound in her throat; she tried to play off the staggering regret at that thought with a mean jest to hide away her insecurity. "I'll take your word they would've been cute."

A heh left his mouth, but she caught the same qualm in his eyes. Never before had she felt a stronger urge to have children than imagining his scarred hands tenderly cradling something that was theirs. The permanent, ugly truth of their relationship made her falter at pulling up her armored leathers.

"...do you want to go again?" she asked stupidly, but his stare was nothing but sincere patience as he caught her underlying desire.

"Yeah. I do."

He was gentle and slow, attentive to how her body was already at its limit while giving her mind what it so desperately wanted. For all the foolish hope it instilled in her, for the first time, in a long time, she prayed for something that would never be. By the time her legs were shaking and her mind was clouded, he pulled away, kissing her tenderly before finally handing her her clothes for some decency.

She slipped on her underwear and clipped her bra to her front before sliding it around and reaching for her shirt. The clasp was suddenly undone in a split second, and Evelyn growled as she turned around. He raised his hands in mock surrender. The strap was clasped again, and then just as quickly undone.

"Will you stop it?!" she snapped, replacing the catch together. The fabric of her shirt barely grazed the tips of her fingers as the snugged strap of her bra was undone, again. She bristled like a street cat, whipping her head around as she reached behind to trace the skin of her back in search of the straps. "Go to your own room before I put you through the fucking wall."

The shirt was now coming over her head, and she was momentarily blinded under the olive folds... The weight of her boobs gravitated forward. With a furious snarl, she lashed at the empty air as the bounty hunter already made an escape out the door.

Cross chuckled under his breath at the muffled cursing coming from behind the frame, nonchalantly making his way down the halls of the police station. A quick detour into the break room, a box of potato crisps being opened with his cuffed hands. The box was rattled, the potato crisps tossed around inside their parchment foil for easier pickings as he ambled around the station. A few odd looks were given, but no one made a move to stop him as he wandered, crunching away on his filched snack. The darkened view outside a window told him it was sometime in the evening.

"There is a lot of work that will need to be done with the discovery of Vault 91 and the smoothskin operation, and clearance inside will be deliberated tomorrow." The voice from the head of security was echoing from the main lobby.

Woops. Cross made a hard left, continuing on down another hallway until he came to the conference room. He nabbed the edge of the carton with his mouth, freeing his hands as he turned the knob and stepped inside.

"Finally done?" Campbell asked, completely relaxed as he inclined back in his seat with his feet resting on the table.

Lydia was dead asleep in her chair, her head slumped forward against her chest. It had been a long day.

Cross finished the chips, tossing the empty box over his shoulder. With a wipe of his salted, gloved hands down his duster, he gave a knowing look to the crimson ghoul leaning against the wall. "Think it's 'bout time you and I had a talk."

Five Months Ago

The clap of thunder overhead was followed by a horrendous, blinding flash of lightning. Both companions taking refuge under a tiny metal awning squinted against the visually raping spectacle, their retinas burning without consent. Heavy rainfall pattered so loudly it drowned out all sound; the ferryman felt his employer shrug farther down inside her coat; they were sitting on their haunches, backs flush together to share the small shelter until the storm passed. He felt her wiggle again, this time with some urgency, and he half-turned his head to peer behind himself.

"I need to pee," she said in a raised voice without meeting his glowing eyes.

Another flash heralded across the darkened sky. Another loud boom.

Charon ignored her and went back to facing forward; he shifted his weight from having sat for nearly thirty minutes, folding his arms over his knees. A third squirm, and he jabbed her with his elbow, earning a muttered 'ow'.

"Hold it," he grunted.

The landscape was practically drowning; he couldn't see shit five feet in front of his face. He necessarily didn't need to hold her hand for moments like these, but coupled with the fact he wouldn't be able to hear any dangers approaching, it was an unwise move to be made.

The heat of her spine pulled away from his own. The towering ghoul half-turned, nabbing at her forearm before she could disappear behind the thick curtain of rain.

"Hold it," he repeated in an undisputable tone of don't fucking make me say it again.

"But I like really have to go," she said exasperatedly.

His other arm snapped up, a thick index finger pointing to a spot a few feet away from themselves. Her jaw dropped, and she brusquely shook his hand off of her.

"No!"

"I will not look."

A humorless laugh barked from her lips. "That's not the point!"

Charon brought his arms over his chest, staring back out into the endless fall from the heavens. "Then you can hold it."

Evelyn bit the pale, pink flesh of her lower lip. "Five minutes."

Charon exhaled loudly through his cavernous nostrils. After a moment, he slightly turned his head to the side. "Five minutes."

She didn't waste another second; when the ghoul was given a time limit, he meant it. Literally.

Charon stretched his spine in spot, listening to her boots splashing through the torrenting flood as she put distance between them. A slow, methodic tap began on his bicep, counting in beat to the seconds ticking away. He had only managed a total of three minutes and fifteen seconds before a blood-curdling scream met his ears. The ghoul was on his feet and sprinting, squinting through the wash of water cascading down his face.

"Evelyn!" he barked, whipping his head around as he scanned the area for any sign of her struggle.

"Charon!" she screamed, and he spun ninety degrees to the direction of her wail.

The massive ghoul came upon the scene; his employer had scrabbled to the top of a small boulder, a few ants chittering about her feet. She had unintentionally disturbed the entrance near their nest, gaining a few friends for her troubles. She picked up a rock and pelted it at the nearest insect, missing completely for it to splash in the mud.

The ghoul rolled his eyes so hard he may have stolen a peek inside his skull. With a disgruntled sigh, he raised his weapon and let off a few shots, effortlessly dealing with the pests. He then holstered his shotgun and stormed up to her. She outstretched a hand for balance as she went to jump from her perch, and he grabbed at it, whisking her so quickly from her spot the rain misted from her shoulders.

"What did I say about that?!" Charon growled, pointing a finger in her face as he curtly chastised her. "You cannot scream for me for fucking bugs, Evelyn!"

"...sorry," she mumbled, tapping her index fingers together as she bowed her head in shame.

Charon shook his head, wiping a hand down his face as he turned to continue back. When she didn't follow, he snapped his head around. "What is it?"

Evelyn blinked from inside the shadow of her hood. "I still need to pee."

The ghoul fully faced her, crossing his arms defiantly and merely standing there. He may as well have been a statue; only his eyes seemed to have life to them as they burned through the grey haze of the storm.

Her own widened. "You are not-!"

"I suggest you proceed quickly," Charon interrupted her, his voice completely flat and expression smoldering. "If there are a few, there will likely be more."

She gasped, looking around anxiously for any sign of unwanted visitors, and in an attempt to hide away from his glower. "Well, at least, turn around!"

Her companion finally complied with an air of reluctance, grumbling incoherent nonsense to himself that was inaudible in the deafening tempest. There was the sound of a zipper and buckles clinking, and then the minutes passed on...and continued to do so.

"Are you done?" Charon asked irritably. He was fucking soaked.

An annoyed huff was directed at his backside, and he could hear her decency being put back into place. "...I can't go."

Charon closed his eyes, roughly rubbing at them with his fingertips until he saw stars. "Why?"

"Because you're fucking standing there!"

A loud roar swiveled their heads around. There was a faint outline of something big trudging through the rain; a deathclaw was investigating the prior shrieking.

"I think I can hold it," Evelyn said quickly.

Charon threw her a nasty glare, and then reached down for her hand as they made a hasty escape.