falloutkinkmeme_backup | Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

After losing Carla, Boone is protective to the point of paranoia towards F!Courier, which is sometimes endearing and sometimes irritating. I'd prefer them to be in a relationship, but they don't have to be.

All of my yessssssss!~

Awwwwww yeah, nonnie. I like the way you think.

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes I love protective Boone!!!

Tentative a!a pokes her head in to say she might have something up by tomorrow.

OP would be very happy if you did!

tags: completed, het, female courier, boone
pairing: f!courier/boone
summary: Overprotective boone is overprotective and it drives female courier a little crazy.

“You're not going.”

Jack bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something they'd both regret. Boone had a way of getting under skin; the alpha male thing was old even before the first time he “put his foot down”. As a courier, she'd been in so many dangerous situation---the Sierra Madre, the Divide, the Big MT, Zion---she didn't know what to make of his delusions about her fragility.

She'd never had any man, not even one she was sleeping with, discourage her from taking a job.

“You're welcome to come along,” she said, “But I'm going. Best you get get used to the idea.”

“Not gonna happen,” he said, “The King has a dozen guys waiting around for something to do. Let one of them go.”

“They're not waiting around for something to do,” she said as she bent to tie the laces on her boots, “They're keeping the peace in Freeside.”

“And you're not? The King needs to stop dumping all his problems on you.”

“He's not,” she said, “It was actually Julie's suggestion---”

“And that makes it better?” he asked, “You already freed Vegas for them, what more do they want?”

She took a long breath. She counted to ten and tried to keep her blood pressure from rising.

“Boone, I don't have anything better to do,” she said, “I'm bored. I want to do this. Julie didn't twist my arm. She didn't beg. She brought it up at the meeting and I volunteered.”

“Well maybe you shouldn't volunteer for everything Julie brings up in those damn meetings.”

His stony silence wasn't promising. She finished lacing up her boot and tried to focus her attention on the upcoming task. Rumors of little green men terrorizing the countryside had made the locals skittish, a couple of Brahmin had gone missing along with the occasional stray mongrel.

Of course, Julie and the King had brought it up at the last meeting. With Arcade monitoring Yes-man and the securitrons, Jack was the only one on the council who didn't have a section of New Vegas to keep her preoccupied.

She finally forced herself to turn and meet Boone's glare. He cut quite the imposing figure, tall and broad shouldered as he was, his arms crossed over his chest as he all but dared her to push him. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose.

tags: completed, het, female courier, boone
pairing: f!courier/boone
summary: Overprotective boone is overprotective and it drives female courier a little crazy.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there and pout or are you coming with me?” she asked.

“Guess I don't have a choice,” he said, “If you're hell bent on getting yourself killed.”

“Ha! That'll be the day,” she said, “If a bullet through the brain won't stop me, nothing will.”

He grunted something---she was happy she hadn't learned to decipher his monosyllabic responses yet. She didn't particularly enjoy being angry, not even when it led to mind blowing make up sex. And with Boone it always did. He may not have been a man of many words, but he could host a two hour pep rally with just his cock.

She slung her bag of tricks over her shoulder. With Boone tagging along, she didn't have to lug around the old sniper rifle. She wasn't very good with it anyway; give her a good old fashioned fist fight any day and she could come out on top, but a gun fight? She wasted many a perfect shot. What did Cass used to say? In a contest between Jack and a dead Gecko, the dead gecko had a better chance of hitting the target. Hell, the dead gecko had a better chance of rising from the dead and becoming the next Wasteland Messiah.

Boone gave her another unreadable glare before he took the pack of her shoulder and slid it over his.

“I can carry my own junk,” she said.

“And when you get shot for charging the enemy?” he asked, “I'll have to save you and avoid getting shot up at the same time while I retrieve our medical supplies.”

“Your lack of faith in me is heart warming,” she said.

“Yeah well, you're not as immortal as you think you are,” he said, “Let's do this, before I change my mind.”

“You don't have to come with me if you don't want to,” she said.

“Heh. Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that,” he said.

“I'm serious. I can ask Veronica or Cass to join me. I was going to anyway before you descended upon me like the wrath of God. Lighten up.”

She hadn't thought it was possible for his expression to darken any more than it already had, but she was wrong. Boone gave new meaning to the term pissed off.

“Don't look at me like that.”

“If you're going to ask Cass to watch your back, you might as well be wearing a red bulls eye on your forehead.”

“That's not true and you know it.”

“Do I? She starts drinking before noon, you know,” he said, “And Veronica's shit with a gun. You need someone with a different skill set to watch your back.”

“You keep insulting my friends and you'll be the one needing someone to watch your back.”

She gave him a look that would have made a lesser man turn tail. Cass did not start drinking before noon, and Veronica was not shit with a gun. More importantly, they didn't second guess her every move nor were they convinced she was going to die if she stepped out of their sight for a half a second. Jack tried to keep her breathing steady. She tried to keep his paranoia in perspective. Remember Carla? That was all this was.

“I warned you when we started this,” he said, “I'm not the kind of guy who sits on the sidelines. Don't like it? Tough. I'm going to keep you alive whether you like it or not.”

“I can keep myself alive, thank you very much.”

“Right. How many times have you been shot in the head and buried alive since we've been together? Zero. And how many times were you shot in the head and buried alive before you met me? What's that? Once? And did you dig yourself out the grave? Sorry, I didn't hear that. Was it a no? Did you have to be rescued by a robot?”

“You are treading on thin ice, buddy.”

“Fine by me,” he said, “It doesn't change the truth.”

“And what truth is that? That you're a pig headed, chauvinistic, meat head who's about to get his ass kicked?”

“That I care about you, and if it means pissing you off, you bet your ass I'll do it if it keeps you alive.”

The retort died in her throat. Darn him. Why did he have to be infuriating and oddly sweet in the same sentence? She felt some of her anger, not all of it, melt away. That comment about Cass and Veronica was going to haunt him for the rest of the day.

“Why, Mr. Boone! If I didn't know better I'd swear you were getting soft on me,” she said, “I care about you too, and stop worrying. It's probably just a couple of raiders. It won't take much to scare 'em off.”

“Right. Green raiders. With ray guns.”

“I've seen stranger things,” she said, “And technically I think they're called laser pistols.”

“Ray guns, laser pistols, phasers, doesn't matter what you call them,” he said, “The end result is the same. You'll be just as dead.”

“We'll be fine,” she said, firmly.

Jack stared at the spaceship, dumbstruck. Aliens were real. Not only were they real, but they were really real. Three little green men had set up camp; they sat around a fire, chattering in some unknown language. A couple of meters from the camp site lay a pile of bodies, they looked like mercs, but she wasn't certain.

Suddenly, she wished she'd brought that sniper rifle.

“Funny looking raiders,” Boone whispered in her ear.

She ignored the shiver he sent racing up her spine.

“No one likes a smart ass, Boone,” she said.

“Guess you'd know about that,” he said, “How about we change things up for once and you let me pick them off from back here instead of running at them like a crazy person?”

“You're hilarious today. Taking lessons from Arcade?” she asked, “Besides, shouldn't we at least try to talk to them? They might not be hostile. They might be friendly.”

“What are the odds?”

“It could happen,” she said.

“Right. And I'm the head of Caesar's Frumentarii.”

The decision, unfortunately, was made for them while they were arguing about it. The alien who must have been the head honcho turned and looked right at them. Jack froze, ducking back down behind the rock, but it was too late. She could hear alarmed, enraged shrieking coming from the campsite.

“Good job,” Boone said.

“This is not my fault!”

“Heh. Could have fooled me,” Boone said, almost but not quite grinning, “Still think they just want to be friends?”

She heard the air sizzle as the aliens fired at them. Laser blasts scorched the rock. Why had she packed her trusty power fist instead of her sniper rifle? Boone slid her bag off his shoulder and passed it to her. She scrambled to find her plasma defender.

“Oh you! You probably scared them with the Boone Scowl of Death, don't think I didn't see the way you glowered at them.”

“I don't—-what'd you call it? Glower? Remind me to hide your thesaurus when we get back.”

“Ha. Glower is practically your middle name.”

“Fuck that. Don't have a middle name. Don't want one,” he said.

“Right. It's something like Francis, isn't it? Or Leslie,” she said.

“Leslie?”

“Leslie. Craig Leslie Boone, has a nice ring to it, don't ya think?” she asked, and where the hell was her plasma defender?

One of the aliens yelped as Boone fired a shot dead center into his/her/its gut. What the hell were these things anyway? There were no distinguishing features, just the big black eyes and the green skin, and nothing to indicate whether they were male or female. Risking a glance around the rock, Jack thought she counted three or four fingers on each hand.

“One down. Two to go.,” Boone said, “And don't call me Leslie, alright? I've got this.”

Her fingers finally closed around the handle of her gun. Thank fucking God, she was getting sick of listening to the crack of Boone's hunting rifle and the sizzle of superheated air around the laser blasts. She listened to the pattern, tried to time it just right so she could get a shot out and not take a blast to the face.

“To hell with that,” she said, firing a few shots while Boone hurried to reload.

“Damn it, Jack, I mean it,” he said.

She hit one of the aliens in the chest, knocking him back off his feet. She shit him again before he could recover.

“You were saying?” she asked, “Two down. One to go. Still got this?”

“So help me God, if I have to knock you out I'll do it,” he warned, “Just stay back. For once in your life, let me handle this.”

“When hell freezes over,” she said.

When she whipped around the rock to take aim at the last alien, she came face to face with his kneecaps. She heard the low hum as he charged his weapon and when she looked up, she was staring down the barrel of a Tri-beam Laser Rifle---the mother of all laser rifles. She'd always thought that rot about seeing your life flash before your eyes in the moment of your death was just a myth, but she was damned if it didn't happen right then and there. She stared up and waited for the end, her body frozen in that one moment of fear.

But the end never came. Instead, the alien's head exploded into a thousand gooey pieces. She felt Boone pull her back as the alien collapsed.

“I told you to let me handle it!”

“And I told you, I'm not that kind of girl!”

His jaw tensed, and even behind the sunglasses, she could see his eyes flashing with anger. Well fuck you too, Boone, she mentally shouted at him; if he wanted to be with her, he was going to have to accept that she wasn't going to let him lock her away from the world in a god damn tower. She'd led the charge against Caesar for heaven's sake. She could handle herself just fine---even if the evidence to the contrary was lying dead less the a foot away.

“One more second and you would have been a pile of ash,” he said.

“You had my back.”

“Barely,” he said, “What happens the next time, if the gun jams or I run out of ammo? What happens if I can't get to you fast enough?”

“I'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen then, now won't I,” she said.

“Damn it, Jack, I'm not stupid. When I say stay back, I have a good fucking reason.”

“That's debatable.”

She knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment the last word left her lips. His face went red and he stared through her---it was almost as if he couldn't decide whether to fall back or murder her. Great. She hadn't meant it like that.

“I meant the having a good reason part,” she said, “I know you're not stupid.”

“Could have fooled me,” he snapped.

“I'm sorry,” she said, “But you've got ease up a little. I'm not made of glass, and I'm not made to sit on a shelf like some pretty little nick knack.”

“Never said you were.”

“No, but this garbage about staying back and letting you take care of everything? Boone, it's shit and you know it,” she said, “Give me a little credit.”

His breath came in ragged, but his shoulders relaxed just enough to make her think that maybe, just maybe, she was getting through to him. She let herself lean closer, to rest her forehead against his cheek---for just a second.

“It's ok,” she said, “We're both alive. The threat is neutralized. Happy ending, yes?”

When she pulled back, intent upon returning her plasma defender to its rightful place at the very bottom of her bag (under the power fist), he stopped her. His palm cupped the side of her face as he kissed her. His lips parted and his tongue---lord help her---his tongue found its way past her defenses to battle with hers.

If this was his idea of a good tongue lashing, well, sign her up for more! He pulled back just enough for the both of them to take a much needed breath.

“You say you're not made of glass,” he said, “But you're not made of steel either. I'd be lying if I promised you I'd never tell you to hang back and let me handle the bad guys. That's not who I am. I can't just sit back and watch while you get shot up by raiders and poisoned by giant bugs and ripped open by fucking Deathclaw Alphas.”

She tried to interrupt, but he cut her off with another brain melting kiss. Damn that man! He didn't fight fair, and this was a fight she wasn't going to let him win. She wasn't going to let him put himself in danger just to protect her.

She pulled back, one hand on his chest when he tried to follow her.

“You may not like it,” she said, “But if you want this to last, you're going to have to trust me. I mean it, Boone. You know I'm right.”

“Maybe,” he said, “Doesn't mean I have to like it.”

“Well, tough titties. You're going to have to try,” she said, “If you promise me that much, I'll try not to run face first into a a laser blast more than once a week.”

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He crawled over her, one leg nudging between her thighs as his weight settled so deliciously on top of her. Her arms curled around him, aching to pull him in for another kiss.

“Well?” she asked, “Do we have a deal?”

“Alright,” he said, ”I think I can live with that.”

And kiss him she did.

This is great!

:D Thank you!

You've made OP's heart melt!

Yay! I'm glad you enjoyed it!

I l-l-l-l-love this.
<3

Yay! I'm glad!

This is amazing. I love the interaction between Boone and the Courier. They're just so sweetly frustrating. <3

Thank you! XD

Oh, awesome!

Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

Protective!Boone

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