This is a series of one shots from Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas, and Fallout 4. I do not own any of the characters, of course.
All One Shots are in alphabetical order for your convenience.
Anything with an ➵ and a title has been reread, and (hopeful...
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"That's really nice and all, but that's not what I came to talk to you about."
Murphy frowned, "What then?"
I folded my hands together, making sure the door was shut, "I came to discuss Barrett's past with you."
"I've already told you, I don't know anything about him, and I don't want too. He keeps me and my stuff safe, and he seems perfectly fine keeping to himself."
I frowned, "What if he's a serial killer? You're okay with him working for you and helping you out even if he occasionally commits third degree murder?"
He shrugged, examining a test tube, "That's sort of why I hired him. Seems like a guy that can handle his own. He's kept my stuff secure. What more could I want in a bodyguard?"
I stood up, "Whatever. I'll find it out myself."
"Good luck."
I rolled my eyes, stepping out and hearing the door lock behind me. I looked around the square room for Barrett, not seeing him. Suddenly I was gripped from behind, a hand covering my mouth and pulling me into a small janitors closet. I was released and pulled away immediately, flipping out a switch I had in my pocket, I held it out, facing Barrett, who held a gun between my eyes. I frowned solemnly and he spoke, "Didn't wanna have to go through this with you, smoothskin."
"Why? Afraid of the truth coming out?"
He frowned at me, cocking his gun, "I ain't afraid of shit. Get that through your head. I got a good payin' gig, and I don't need some innocent kid fuckin' it up for me, got it?"
"I can assure you, Barrett, I'm not a kid and I'm not innocent. I'm just curious."
"Curiosity killed the-"
I gripped my knife tighter, "Shut up with all that. Look, I don't give a shit about your past, or any of the bad shit you did, if you did at all. I just don't want to have to worry about it anymore."
"When you're dead, you ain't gotta worry about shit."
"That's correct, but I don't plan on dying just yet. Why won't you just tell me about something? Anything!"
"Because I don't need you worrying about the shit I got caught up with when I was younger. You're too innocent to understand any of it anyways."
I put my knife away, shoved his gun to the side, and pushed my lips to his gently, then with growing hunger before pulling away and delivering a slap across his face, "Call me innocent again, and I'm shoving your gun up your ass."
He stayed frozen, eyes locked on mine, trying to decipher me. He knew it was impossible to tell what I would do next, so he just stared. I smiled, locking the door and sitting with my back to it, "Now, I suppose you've got a story or two to tell me."
