The quote is from "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Shsk

The crisp sound of a page being flipped gave distant percussion to the wayward cries of wild dogs; the shadows from the fire swayed to the music. They stretched long, their transparent fingers writhed into nothingness. That hair was wild and free from its confinements; the brunette shade appeared copper in the orange glow. A single strand was twirled around her finger as she dedicated her entire attention to the words she was reading, and more than once, her mouth would upturn in a secret smile, that captive thread brushing against her lips.

Shsk

A bottle met with the merc's mouth, and as he took a swig, he watched her devour another page of her book. He was trying to keep holy thoughts, but the drinking wasn't helping. Get your shit together, he chastised himself, setting the bottle down to the side. A large crackle fizzed in the fire. Setting his idle hands as the devil's playthings, he reached inside his backpack and grabbed out the necessary items to clean his weaponry. The mold of his palm fit perfectly around the worn handle of his blade, and he inspected the honed edge in the firelight.

A loud breath blew from across the fire. Evelyn rolled onto her back, her book resting against her chest. Her arms widened above her as she stared contentedly at the starry sky.

"Book that borin'?" Cross inquired, a thumb lightly running along the dagger for any fissures.

"No," she replied, closing her eyes. "Just read a nice passage. I'm trying to memorize the words; they were lovely."

"Hm."

"Do you want to hear it?"

He grabbed at a whetstone, his tone a little gruffer than he intended. "You're not goin' to start readin' the entire book, are ya?"

She visibly bristled. "No." And that was all he was given as she rolled her back to him. The book was opened in her hands again whilst she completely ignored him.

Yeah, nice, he internally kicked himself. "So, we goin' to hear it? This piece you like so much?"

"Forget I said anything."

The merc observed the sharpness of his blade. "Educate me."

She angrily sighed, her shoulders making a dramatic rise and fall. "Educate yourself."

Sarcastic brat. Cross grunted and sheathed his knife. Rising from his perch on a boulder, he felt the hawklike gaze of the stoic bodyguard immediately latch onto him. He raised his hands in mock surrender, sidestepping around the fire and coming to crouch before her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, lowering the book to her side. "What?"

He held out a hand, motioning to the novel. "Tryin' to educate myself."

She sat upright, crisscrossing her legs and snapping the book shut. "Here. Have fun," she sniped, handing over the worn piece of literature.

The faded cover came to rest in his outstretched palm, and he flipped it open. "Which page?"

"I don't know. Figure it the fuck out."

Goddamn. All this because I can't shut my damn mouth. The merc grumbled and raised an eyebrow muscle down at her. "Fine." His back cracked as he turned and sat close beside her, their knees overlapping and his left arm coming to drape across her shoulders. The heat from Charon's gaze was nearly burning through his spine.

"Show me," he rasped, handing her the book back, his left hand pointing to the pages.

Her face was on fire from his sudden physical interaction- perhaps due to embarrassment for Charon having to bear witness. The merc didn't care; the bodyguard wasn't hellbent on keeping him away from her anymore, and they had already established their lines in the sand. They just happened to be parallel.

The skin of her fingers brushed the leathery exterior that was now his flesh, and he could feel their light shaking as she took the hardcover from him. She was purposefully averting his gaze, keeping her eyes trained on the book for some semblance of concentration. She bit her bottom lip as the pages fluttered open, deftly flipping through in search. The left fingers of his hand stroked her cheek and her breathing hitched. He was extremely tempted in kissing her at that moment, but an obnoxious grumble behind them quelled his fondling. Bastard, he growled inwardly, his eyes returning to the open book she was now running her index finger along.

"Here," she announced, leaning slightly into his side as she held the page up to him.

He squinted at the words her finger was underlining. "Everyone suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known." Well, that surely didn't apply to him. "Hmm," was all he replied with, catching her dreamy stare. "Ya like that, huh?"

"How can you not?" she questioned, her body folding into him as she was leafing through for other passages. She was now flush against him, the heat of their bodies mingling as intimately as their earlier coupling. "This was his greatest work; the tragedy of love and the lyrical words he conveys- it's a wonderful read."

They sat in silence for a moment, huddled together with their backs to the firelight as she was browsing through earlier chapters. The smell of bourbon laced with smoke immersed her senses as she felt the waves of his breathing down her neck. She nestled the side of her face into his chest, enjoying his warmth. The stern lines of his mouth brushed her cheek-

"Evelyn." A rasp behind them made her head turn, and Cross made a face of displeasure at the interruption. "It is late; you should get some sleep."

Asshole. The merc gave a loud sigh to indicate his thoughts as she wiggled out from under him.

She poked at the crimson ghoul. "Coming from the man who never sleeps."

Cross gripped his jaw with one hand and cracked his neck. "Freakishly tall and freakishly insomniac," he muttered under his breath, dusting his jeans as he rose from his spot.

So, Charon, you know that girl-uh-woman, Lucy West? She's pretty cute, huh? I think she wants me to ask her out, like, on a date, you know? I mean, I really think she does, but-ugh, I don't wanna screw it up! What should I say to her? Dad never really-

A long-winded howl sounded off in the distance; far enough away to warrant no threat. Evelyn mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep; another dream played itself vibrantly behind closed eyelids. She burrowed further into her sleeping bag until only a tumble of hair remained visible.

She said yes! Oh, man! Uh, what do I wear? Should I wear something nice?! Or-or do I give her anything? Girls like-um-things, right? Charon, you have to help me!

A clink could be heard as the bounty hunter became preoccupied with unloading rounds from his gun. The array of cleaning equipment he had off to the side reminded him that he had his own weaponry he should be tending to.

Whew! I think it went pretty well. Well, I was so nervous I accidentally spilled a bowl of noodles on myself, but she laughed and said I was funny! She said she wants to see me again when we get back from Rivet City, can you believe that?!

Charon did not know why the mercenary aggravated him so personally. All of his previous employer's flames had been seen as neutral personalities. Charon had not felt animosity towards any of the women. He had just been there to ensure the safety and well-being of his employer, and he had.

Have you ever, like, been in love? O-kay, I know it sounds cheesy, but seriously, have you? C'mon, man, you can't tell me you haven't been alive for over two hundred years and never been with someone that you didn't-just...not stop thinking about!

The fire cackled, the fresh tinder he had supplied for it burning hotly.

Well, when you think you've found them, let me know! We'll make it work; I swear!

Charon had not found them, and he had not fueled the boy's incessant fantasies about his lack of personal relationships with others. Charon did not think in that mindset; he was a trained combatant, highly skilled, and well-versed in the art of inflicting death upon others. Sure, the ghoul was still a man, and he could acknowledge an attractive woman when he saw one, but it was akin to appreciating a colorful sunset. Some things held beauty in them, and even he could take notice of it.

Evelyn was one of them. From the moment he had laid eyes on her, he had appreciated her features...and from the moment she had displayed her brute strength, he had respected her. She was just as dangerous as he was, in terms of killing, and she was capable of handling her own affairs. Then the weeks passed, his larger boot prints devouring her smaller ones as he followed her journey across the vastness of the wastes. The Capital Wasteland had been reduced to a dot on the map as he provided his services to her, their newborn partnership finding all the cracks and molds that needed to be filled. He discovered she had a vicious temper that was easily inflamed; a stick of dynamite that if you did not release in time, would blow back at you. He knew nothing of her life story or personal vendetta; Evelyn was simply Evelyn. He gained knowledge from what he had experienced with her. They worked well. He taught her how to clean and maintain any weapon they came upon; she would tell him epic stories of the world long left behind. They drew blood and wiped away the sweat- their muscles tired and feet sore as they came to terms on how to operate with one another. She did not ask (too many) personal questions about his life, and he did not with hers. She respected his judgment and leaned on his experiences of certain things, and she appeared satisfied with his sole company. They fulfilled his contract to its expected extent...he was happy with her.

Perhaps that was the reason he did not approve of the mercenary.

Cross more than well enough appreciated her; it was clear. The ghoul was just as known for his affinities with women as he was for his mercenary work; more than a few ghouls they had sought information from told beyond what was necessary. He clearly sought one thing from female company, and Charon wasn't ignorant. The merc displayed an obvious sexual interest in Evelyn...but that is what had surprised him, after finding the ghoul molesting her in that maintenance room, and coming to discover that it was consensual from both sides. Evelyn was a beautiful creature; the bounty hunter was anything but. After all of the men that had confessed their sentiments for her and for her to say nothing and let it die on the wind, why him?

As much as he hated to admit it- it almost scared him. Would she leave him to another, now that she had found someone she was interested in? Cross provided some level of affection for her, as was evident by their fireside caresses. That had infuriated him greatly, but he did not want to give Evelyn any more reason to consider him unwarranted. Charon knew she cared- that much he could reassure himself with. The way she regarded him at times was almost uncomfortable; she looked at him like no one ever had before, and he did not know what it had meant...but now he had caught that same look given to the mercenary, and he did not know whether he had failed in some manner to make her act out in this way.

He internally sighed. The dawn would be nearing in a few hours time, and there was still some work to be done.

Thomas Ridges was not in a particularly good mood that morning.

For the most part, the glowing ghoul was an easy fellow to be around; polite, reserved, and patient in nature. The men and women in his squad respected his natural authority, and they rallied under his strategic mindset. It was quite rare, even for ghouls, to meet a glowing one with all of their faculties maintained, and exceptionally rare for one to have such a brilliant conviction on things. So, when something did happen to bury under his rug that he could not sweep out, they gave a wide berth.

"For the last time, Carmen, I don't know where Rick is, or why; asking me again won't get you closer to an answer," Thomas drawled out, the heel of his palm rubbing at his forehead. The soft glow he emitted seemed to fill the dim office space that he was being retained in. "I'm Head of Security; not his nanny."

"Don't you think the 'Head of Security' should have an idea as to where the Mayor of Braxton has disappeared to?! Why aren't you worried?! You should be out there looking for him!" the female ghoul shrieked, waving her hands dramatically in front of his face.

The glow from his eyes narrowed down at her with slight irritation. He was beginning to feel agitated from their conversation. "I have more pressing issues to tend to at the moment than to waste time on one man. Rick is more than capable of handling himself; he's probably just sleeping off last night's bender."

"But he always comes back before eight. It's almost noon!" she cried at him, beginning to pace around the said mayor's office. "I need to know he's alright! Just-just, fuck, send someone out to find him, bring him back here! Send everyone! I don't care who-"

Thomas sighed, waiting for the crazed woman to settle from her theatrical woes. A knock at the door, and they both turned.

"What is it?" Carmen snapped as a ghoul began to step inside. "Did you find him?"

"Yes ma'am," the ghoul responded, opening the door fully to reveal the hungover figure of her lover.

"Rick!" Carmen announced exasperatedly, rushing to the man as he was set in a chair. "Darling!" As soon as the man was seated, she threw her hand back and slapped him as hard as she could manage. "You fucker!"

The two then erupted into the final acts of that morning's scene: the usual ugly swearing and profuse apologizing. Thomas made his own exit; the duo didn't pay him any mind as he closed the door behind him.

The rumbling sky of dark clouds mirrored his mood upon exiting the town hall. A rosy figure leaning against a column kicked off as soon as he passed, the couple climbing down the steps in synchronization.

"So?" his companion inquired. "Shall I call off the militia?"

Thomas snorted. "Doesn't matter; they would just get sent back out tomorrow."

The two walked a few blocks until the Braxton Police Station came into view, and Thomas felt a tug on his arm. He stopped, inclining his head to the side. "Yes?"

"Do you want to get a drink, tonight? My place?"

"Penny-" The glowing ghoul paused, thinking his words through. "Sure, tonight sounds good."

Penny rewarded him with a small smile, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Well let's hurry up and get today over with then, shall we?"

Thinking about their current plate of issues, Thomas reluctantly nodded. "Let's."

Hey. Why so down, today? Tell you what, why don't we go sit in the study and you can recite to me what your mother is having you read...oh, so it is Othello, today. Good choice.

Evelyn's eyes fluttered open, the image of the first man she had grown to love fading from her view. She nestled into her sleeping roll for a few more undisturbed moments of reprieve, clinging to his memory before the nostalgia abated completely. It had been a long time since he had plagued her thoughts; perhaps the sparks between Cross and herself had ignited the recessed memories within.

"You goin' to sleep all day?" a rough voice asked, nudging her with a boot. "Get up."

"I'll snap your ankle," Evelyn growled in warning, removing her cover to stretch. Her spine popped pleasingly, and she yawned. The sky was still dark. "Ugh, what time is it?"

"Early," the merc answered, the tip of his cigarette glowing bright as he inhaled. She gazed up at him, the ghost of another taking his form.

It's already noon, Evelyn. Your mother is out for the day, and she wishes for you to begin memorizing the study lesson...well, to be honest, that does sound preferable to French conjugations. Perhaps after your lessons...okay, so before and after. No, I'm not complaining-

A sharp hook tugged at her heart, and she angrily yanked it out. He was gone; the dead did not need any more of her tears.

"Any particular reason?" she asked as she sat up, caressing her scalp and reaching to the side for her boots.

"Yeah, can't sleep." A puff of smoke was blown forth. "Let's get goin'."

Evelyn whirled her head around, unsure if he was joking or not. Seeing her companions already packed and waiting for her, she hurriedly went about collecting her things.