He said go so I sprinted. I was scared as hell because I could hear the squeak of my boots. I figured the raiders could hear it, too. Those assholes are always high on something. Maybe they took too many mentats that morning and I would have just screwed the pooch on that. I made it to the other side okay, but Charon still had to cross the subway platform. He was taking his time, too, but I trust him more than anyone.

The motherfucker is invincible, I swear. It takes more than a few bullets to take him down and I know that because I've seen it. He'll just wade in a puddle of irradiated water and be back to normal. All clean and healed. It pisses me off. I have to use stimpaks and they don't work as quick as the water does for him. It takes forever to just close up a wound and holy fuck do some of those wounds hurt. I've only been shot twice, but I'll be pretty damn happy to never have it happen again. Charon's good at getting the bullets out anyway. The one time that he had to. Fucking nimble fingers. How can a man so large be so fucking nimble? Sometimes I just stare at how tall he is. That sounds ridiculous, I know, but shit. He's all brute and fucking scary. Those eyes. Milky and wide and my knees are shaking. He's always looking pissed off, too. Like he wants to beat the shit out of everyone for being all up in his area. Like Move, bitch. Get the fuck out the way.

I like to talk to him the most when I'm sitting down and he's standing up. I don't know why. I just like it, okay?

So we're running from these raiders because I had been out of ammo for a while and holy Jesus Rivet City is up ahead. Praise fucking be. And then, because all good things must come to an end, I hear gunshots. And like the murder-machine he is, Charon starts plowing them down while I'm just hiding out like a joke. Because I am joke compared to Charon, God of Stealing All Kills. Though he isn't exactly stealing when I'm cowering like a pathetic little shit. But that's only because I'm out of ammo. If I had bullets, we would have mowed them down already and I would be looting their corpses right now. So fuck you for thinking I'm weak. You're talking to the only woman in the Tunnel Snakes. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. And while you're smoking it, fuck off.

We're lucky, though, because there were only two raiders that caught him and they were dead in a fucking heartbeat. That's my partner, right there. Charon the Impaler. I like to call him shit like that in my head. If I ever said it to his face, I'm pretty sure he'd just slit my throat right there. Contract or no. That's why I like him. He don't take shit from anyone.

So he finds me, all covered in blood and guts, but not too bad because otherwise I'd be puking like crazy. Not really, I can handle it. But I haven't eaten in a while and the food out here is shit anyway, but I'm just saying that if it was worse, it might push me over the edge. So he pulls me up and I still have to crane my neck back to get a good look at him, the big man that he is. And I kinda wanna just fuck his brains out right there, but he's a ghoul and I don't do that. Though a man of that height is probably packing some serious dick. The kind that I'd build a shrine to and worship. Not that I'm into religious shit like that.

We run out of the metro station and up the stairs to land. Ammo, food, sleep. That's all we need. I hit the intercom at Rivet City's entrance.

"It's Erica. Extend the bridge."

Like I'm not even short, but Harkness is another one of those tall guys that makes my knees tremble. I haven't seen him in a while. He's looking good.

"Good afternoon, Erica. Who's your friend here?"

"Oh... uh... yeah, this is Charon. He's my... part...ner. Friend. Guard-guy." Because I can't exactly call him Genghis Khan, like he should be respected as. Mr. Brotch taught us some badass historical shit in the vault.

Harkie smiled and I almost came.

"Don't start any trouble."

Pff, yeah. Like we would waste our breath bothering this shitty rusted boat. But whatever, no sweat, Harkie. For an android, he ain't half bad.

Charon gives me a weird look. Almost like he's smiling, too. But lords of death don't smile, so I just step into the marketplace.

We buy ammo, get our guns fixed, eat, and head down the Muddy Rudder. We don't like to waste time, my giant friend and I.

Have you ever had whiskey before? That shit burns. It's also the worst tasting drink I've ever had, but Charon drinks it and now so do I. Can't have the man showing me up all the time. That would be unprofessional. He's my assistant and I'm his boss. I'm the one calling the shots, whether he likes it or not. So I'm sitting on the table against the wall, because fuck chairs and fuck whitey. And apparently Charon doesn't want to sit in a chair either 'cause he's standing up next to me, with some stupid smirk on his face. He's just drinking straight from the bottle. I'm taking little shots every once in a while because, seriously, my throat is on fire. What kind of masochistic shit enjoys the taste of whiskey? I just want to get smashed. But why is he grinning like an asshole?

"Sit down, Charon. And stop looking at me like that."

I swear, he just grinned wider. Those dirty yellow teeth were beaming.

"I'm more comfortable standing, smoothskin. Does it bother you to have to look up at me to speak?"

What the fuck was this shuffler talking about?

"No. We've been on our feet all day. Don't be a dick about it."

So he goes to the other side of the table and sits on it. Right next to me. His shoulder right around the top of my head. And Belle Bonny just looks at us like Stop acting like farm animals and I just laugh because what the fuck does she know about farms? Fuck land, she's on a boat.

"Is this better, smoothskin?"

I just kind of nod because it feels good. He's pretty warm and this boat is pretty dank.

You know, I used to think Butch was the toughest and baddest to ever walk the earth. I used to fucking worship the guy. Just kind of follow him around and laugh at all his pranks. Write down all the funny jokes he made and emulate the way he walked. But he was all Nosebleed, this and Nosebleed, that. Too bad he isn't here to see me now. I haven't had a nosebleed in three weeks! He was just joking, though. That's how we worked. He was always such a tease. Didn't even give me an official Tunnel Snake jacket until the day I left the vault and had killed some radroaches for him. I thought that I would spread the word about the Tunnel Snakes when I got out, but Charon stopped all that nonsense.

'Cause me and Charon are serious business.

Now I drink whiskey like all badasses should. If there's one thing I did learn from Butch, it's that you have to sacrifice pleasure to look good. And me and Charon look like whiskey-drinkin' beasts. Well, him more so. With his broad muscular shoulders and overwhelming confidence. Yeah. He's like a ghouly yao guai. I bet he could crush me with one hand.

"Something on your mind?"

Goddamnit, Charon. Stop interrupting my thoughts.

"No. Why are you asking?"

"You're staring at me and biting your lips. Like what you see?"

That motherfucker just started grinning again, like the bastard he is.

"Fuck off, Charon. I'm... busy." Busy thinking of ways to kick your ass without you killing me first.

"You look busy. Are you going to have another shot?"

"Nah, not right now. I'm good. You know, just ah—savoring the flavor and all."

"You have only had one shot. Why don't we do a few together?"

So I did because you don't say no to Charon. Ever.

But then an hour later I'm puking my guts up in the bathroom and I swear to God that Charon is snickering in the doorway. Some fucking help he is.

And toilets kind of weird me out because Butch would give me swirlies if I pissed him off, but it was all in good fun, I think. I only cried the first few times. But he was just teaching me how to be tough like a Tunnel Snake, I think. Fuck him, Charon has never given me a swirly. Though having my face so close to the toilet made me nervous.

"I order you to stop fucking laughing at me! I'm your boss, goddamnit!" I screamed at him between heaves.

"Sorry, smoothskin. Never had a boss that couldn't hold their liquor."

"It's... it's not the alcohol, you asshole! It was dinner. Gary must have poisoned us or something! The food out here is shit, man." I mean, I was feeling a little sick before we started drinking. I'm sure it kicked in after a few shots or something. I can hold my liquor just fine, okay?

"Yes. That must be it. I feel great, though."

"'Cause you're fucking Ozymandias, dude! Now stop fucking laughing at me!"

Good God this man was pissing me off. I tried to kick him with my face still in the toilet, but I missed. He's so fast that I don't think I could ever get a hit. He's got these massive legs... I've never seen him without his pants on, because why the fuck would I have? But through his armor he's a lithe fucking rock, man. He's like Bernini's statue of David come to life. Except, you know, without skin. What do you mean 'Who's Bernini?' Why don't you go to the local Arlington Library and educate yourself, dumbass?

So then we go to sleep because I have to help my dad the next day at Project Purity. He's doing some pretty cool stuff for the people out here. Not gonna lie, I shit like crazy for the first week I was out of the vault. My stomach was not used to the irradiated water and food (But now I'm good, so no worries). But my dad is going to save the wasteland with clean water so people can finally grow crops and the entire ecosystem can restore itself. It will take a while, I know, but it's a hell of a start. Hopefully no more acid rain, 'cause that shit is no joke.

Charon was gentlemanly enough to give me water last night before I fell asleep, otherwise it would be hangover hell in the Weatherly. It was a good morning, though. We got to the Jefferson Memorial first thing and my dad gave us a bunch of stuff to do. It was great to work with my dad again. He's pretty fucking dope for an old guy. People must really admire him, too, because after 20 years of him being gone they just drop what they're doing to help finish the mission. Well, Daniel Agincourt is being an ass about it, but he can go fuck a deathclaw for all I care.

Charon and I go down through the intake pipes and oh my goodness, it's fucking adorable and terrifying because Charon has to bend down the whole time. Like, the way he has to lean forward is just beautiful. I go to turn the valve or whatever my dad needed me to do, then all these vertibirds show up and dudes in armor. But they look fancier than the Brotherhood so I'm just confused. Charon gets really nervous and that freaks me the fuck out. My dad gets on the intercom and tells us to stay put, but fuck that. If something is scaring Charon, then everyone needs to get the hell out.

A/N: I had been trying a new approach for another story and then this just came out. I'm pretty pleased. The anon on the meme asked for an f!lw with a height kink that Charon starts to notice from her. I don't really understand a height kink exactly, so I hope I'm doing it justice. Either way, it'll be a fun little story to work on.