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

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Painless 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

ulie returned to her surgery, ignoring the looks her patient was giving her. She blocked out everything but the mess in front of her, because it was surreal being elbow deep in another person's innards while they're not only conscious, but also compliant.

Two hours later, the surgery was complete. The patient's torso wrapped in bandages and a cast around the leg that had been impaled, Julie escorted him to one of the recovery tents.

Arcade followed like a dumb mutt followed traveller with a handful of bacon. There was something about this stranger. Maybe it was Arcade's doctor's instinct wanting to help the guy. Maybe it was how casual he was about having a strange woman root around his insides. Or maybe because he had a nice ass. Either which way, this was one of those curiosities that must be sated, or Arcade would never be able to live with himself.
The mystery guy was laid on one of the mattresses, dirty and grungy form decades of dirty bodies pressed against it, in the recovery tent, farthest from the door to the fort. Arcade drew closer. The sun was hanging low by this time and Arcade was casting a long shadow. The mystery person looked up at guy whose ass was totally grass for blocking his sun.

“Ahh,” the man said, “The angel of death at last, my escort from this mortal coil.”

Arcade sighed, “I'll admit, thats a new one.” he muttered, “Angel of Death...”

Mystery man laid back to look at the ceiling. Arcade popped the question.

“Do you have a name?”

“Rico,” the man said quietly, “Rico Ramirez. I'm a courier.”

Rico Ramirez. Ah the wonders of alliteration.

“So Ramirez-”

“Rico,” he corrected, “Don't call me Ramirez unless you want me to do something.”

What an odd request. Rico turned to look at the doctor, “you got a name blondie?”

“Arcade,” said he.

“What do you do around here?” the tone of Rico's voice had a rehearsed quality to it.

“Oh, lots of things,” the doctor didn't sound to excited, “mostly research. Stimpacks from barrel cactus and other impossibilities.” Arcade sighed, “sometimes I feel like I'm just beating my head against a wall.”