"I'm telling you, Jack. This ain't no joke!"

The bartender's hoarse voice fiercely echoed through the decrepit saloon. It was late at night, very late, and the only people still hanging around the establishment were either passed out on the floor or just about. The poorly lit place was barely held together, with wooden planks and metal scrap serving as the skeleton of what might once have been a fairly fancy bar. The place stank of strong alcohol, chems, and vomit. This was reflected on the person manning the counter, whose faded blue shirt and black apron were stained and splotchy.

"These Raiders, they're up to something…" The dark-skinned man kept his voice quiet this time, almost whispering as he used a piece of cloth to wipe a glass clean as best as he could. He shot a sideways glance over to the round tables, once again confirming that none of the customers appeared to be in any sort of shape capable of comprehending speech.

He then turned to one of the two men occupying the stools in front of the counter, the one who was conscious. He was slouched over the counter, holding a bottle of beer in his left hand. The wide-brimmed hat he wore shielded most of his face from the weak lightbulb's illumination, but a smirk could be seen on his lips.

"I… I think these folks ain't the type you wanna cross, Jack." The bald, large man behind the counter reiterated.

Jack chuckled, almost mockingly. "But you looked into it anyway, didn't you? Even though I told you it'd be dangerous from the beginning."

The young man accusingly pointed the neck of the bottle at the bartender, before drawing it back to take a swig from it. His face contorted slightly in displeasure at the taste of it, it was some off-brand, old-world piss someone had found buried in a hole no doubt. He could've had some of the place's famous moonshine, but the prospect of spending the night passed out on a table didn't appeal to him very much… anymore, at least.

"I owed you a favour, didn't I? To you and that runt girl of yours, whatever you call her." He explained.

"Bonnie." Jack said, almost annoyed that the man hadn't bothered to remember the name.

"Right… I don't see her around, by the way." The bartender leaned slightly forward over the counter, trying to see if she was sitting around somewhere. Jack, however, let out a small laugh.

He himself peeked back over his own shoulder, "Well, you best believe she's around, Darius. You just won't see that one unless she wants you to."

Feeling infinitely more uncomfortable than he was mere moments ago, the large man straightened himself back up and couldn't help but fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

"A-Anyway, as I was saying… These ain't just your regular Raiders, Jack. This operation they've got going on? It sounds like real serious business. They got full caravans moving in and out of them hills over by Lake Pleasant, just northwest of Phoenix City… And I've seen their gear man, whoever got you this lead was tryna get you killed."

Jack's eyes suddenly lit up, and Darius sighed. He knew that look, there was no stopping Jack Gilmore once something caught his interest.

"Caravans, you say? And just whatever were our friends transporting?" Finally abandoning his drink, Jack crossed his arms and was clearly intent on hearing every single detail.

Darius, however, shrugged. "I couldn't properly tell. I had my folks do some research of their own, but they couldn't dig anything out either. Could be weapons, people, food and supplies… I don't know."

Jack snapped his fingers, "There used to be an old Air Force Base and some national guard bases around here, right? What if they found something like that?"

The larger man shook his head, "We better hope they didn't, it'd be the end of us all."

The two men went into deep thought. One of the largest Raider gangs around, and now you suddenly give them military-grade weapons and equipment? It was bad business, even Phoenix City and its couple thousand citizens didn't have access to that kind of firepower.

"Well, can't go letting our Raider friends have all the fun, can we?" Jack smirked, making it clear that he was going to pursue this.

Darius frowned, "So, what's it gonna be? Just the two of you against the lot of 'em?"

"It could be three of us, you know?" Jack shrugged.

The dark-skinned man shook his head, "My days of riding and shooting are over, pal. You know it."

The atmosphere inside the saloon appeared to suddenly take a grim turn.

"They died with Helena." He added.

Jack silently got up from his seat, leaving a couple of caps on the counter. He didn't appear to be upset, let alone angry. Merely, disappointed.

"Aye," He said, tipping his hat at the large man. "That they did."

Before any other words could be exchanged between the two, their attention was redirected to the saloon's double doors creaking open. It was unusual, if not strange for the establishment to get any customers at this late hour of the night. Your typical Phoenix City bartender may have assumed that it was just some drunk wandering into the first open bar they could find, but Darius knew better. His left hand slid into one of the compartments behind the counter, while his face retained a fake jovial look.

"Welcome, welcome! Make yourselves at home!" He shouted, though appearing to be mindful of those who were sleeping throughout the place.

He had a keen ear even at his age, and had correctly guessed the number of people who were about to walk in through the second pair of doors. Four men walked into the main saloon, wearing dusty rags and worn leathers. Their faces were covered with hoods, and one of them wore an old gas mask.

"What can I get you fellers? Perhaps some of my famous moonshine, if you're looking for something with a bit of a kick to it!" He laughed, continuing his performance. Meanwhile, Jack's right hand sneakily slid into his duster coat and to his belt holster.

"Come along, friends! Don't be shy, we're just having a good time." The young man pitched in, even as his fingers began to envelop his gun's grip. The four men to their left, however, didn't seem to buy it.

"Are you Darius Hernandez?" The man in the front asked, looking at the man behind the counter.

Fenging nervousness, Darius replied.

"The one and only, partner. Uh, how can I help ya'?"

One of the other men, the one who looked worse for wear, spoke up just as Darius finished his sentence.

"Y-You's been snoopin' around... T-The b-boss don't like it when p-people be s-snoopin' around..." His head and arms appeared to twitch as he spoke, clearly high on some chem or other… likely more than one.

The men reached for their backs, but they were already a step behind.

"Now!" Darius yelled powerfully, producing a double-barrel shotgun from underneath the counter.

Jack turned; and in a single, fluid motion, drew his revolver and cocked the hammer. And from his hip, the first shot was fired before the fight had even truly begun. With a loud bang and a puff of smoke, the bullet had whipped through the air and found its mark right at the center of the nearest man's chest. The heavy .44 bullet blew a massive red flower in his shirt, the impact sending his body flying back, killed instantly. Darius fired his shotgun to cover as Jack immediately rolled over the counter, using his revolver hand to keep his hat on. Meanwhile, the remaining raiders had taken cover, overturning tables and were returning fire with what sounded like military grade rifles. The other drunk patrons at the bar had been awoken by the gunfire and most of them left less in fear and more in annoyance, one of them even grumbling, "God dammit, 2nd time this month." One particularly drowsy patron could not even be bothered to leave, stuffing his fingers in his ears and going back to snoring.

The raiders were not all that well trained but the rifles they held were fully automatic and had high capacities, causing Jack and Darius to not be able to peek out from their cover to return fire.

"God damn it, Jack, I told you these weren't folks to be messing with!"

Jack just gave him a shit eating grin despite the beads of sweat on his forehead.

"Come on old man, even retirement life could use a little bit of excitement! Besides, wait for it…. 3, 2, and…"

As though on cue, the gunfire suddenly stopped, instead replaced by clicking noises before the raiders cursed. Jack grinned as he peeked over the counter.

Idiots all blew their mags at the same time.

Jack pulled the trigger on his revolver with his arm outstretched to give the gun balance, catching one of the raiders in the forehead before he could duck like his friends did. He slid over the counter, slowly firing at the raider's cover, careful to count his rounds before kicking over a table right as he fired the last round in his six shot cylinder, ducking behind the new cover with a better angle on the raiders. He started reloading right as the raiders started shooting again but they had forgotten that they now had two angles to cover. The sound of automatic fire was interrupted by the boom of a 12 gauge shell. He heard a raider cry out and smiled to himself.

Good old fashion crossfire, oldest trick in the book.

He peeked slightly out the side of the table, spotting the two raiders, one of them cradling a ragged wound in his arm, torn open by shotgun pellets. Without spotting him, the uninjured raider put the other's good arm around him and made for the door while spraying at the bar. Jack let them go as the supporting raider, the stuttering one, shouted.

"Y-y-you assholes are d-d-dead! Y-you hear me! Our guys got the place surrounded! Y-y-you got nowhere to run!"

Jack only smirked smugly.

That right?

The two raiders burst out of the bar's swinging doors... Only to find the business end of a suppressor in their faces. They barely had time to register the small petite girl, looking about 12 and covered in blood, holding the gun it was attached to before a 10mm bullet buried itself in Stutter's face, right between the eyes. As he fell to the ground, dragging his companion with him, the girl lowered her gun and put a bullet in each of his kneecaps. He screamed in pain and cussed just about every swear word he knew before finally recovering from the panic enough to reach for his dropped rifle. However, before he could touch it, a boot pressed down on it, kicking it out of his reach. The raider looked up in terror to find Jack smirking down at him, .44 revolver trained right at his head. He looked up as the girl walked into the bar, holding her gun idly by her side. The raider now noticed the bloody bayonet knife in her other hand. Jack looked up and past the girl and whistled.

"Nice work Bonnie, a little too nice if you ask me."

The girl nodded quietly and the confused raider looked out the door causing his eyes to widen in shock and fear.

"That's not possible…"

The street outside was devoid of townsfolk, a given since his guys would had chased them all away. However, instead of 8 heavily armed men with automatic rifles trained on the door, all he could see were 8 corpses crumpled on the ground. How had they not heard anything while inside? Either their own gunfire drowned out the sound of 8 other rifles outside, or this brat had killed them all before they even realized what was happening.

Darius walked over and took one look out of the door and made a mental note never to call Bonnie a runt again, if not out of respect, for fear for his own life. He then knelt down next to the raider, who stared back at him with a panicked expression.

"Now then, we're going to have some words about you shooting up my humble establishment."

Jack soaked the rag in an increasingly reddening bucket of water before squeezing it and continuing to wipe the blood off Bonnie's face, her soft features becoming visible again. She had taken off her black light combat chest armor which was also in need of cleaning, and she now only had her grey tank top and faded denim shorts along with her vault boots on. Jack had managed to get most of the blood off her skin but the stains in her clothes would have to wait until they got back to their room at the Phoenix Inn. Jack finally dropped the rag back in the bucket, satisfied that he had done all that he could.

"There, all clean!"

Bonnie just gave him her characteristic blank stare.

"Jack, I'm thirsty."

Her voice was as emotionless as ever but Jack knew just what she wanted. He scanned the shelves over the counter for something that was not broken, grinning as he found what he was looking for. Jack hopped over and grabbed a miraculously intact bottle of Nuka-Cola, popping the cap against the counter before pocketing it and sliding the bottle over to Bonnie.

"One Nuka-Cola for the pretty little lady, as requested,"

He gave her a wink as she caught the bottle and the ghost of a smile played on her lips.

"Thank you."

She held the bottle with both hands and sipped at her favourite beverage. This entire time, they had been ignoring the sound of fists connecting with flesh and Jack finally gave the source of the sound attention. Darius was in the middle of using some "advanced" interrogation techniques to get information out of the raider who was barely conscious.

"Who the fuck is your boss? What's he got to hide that he's threatened by a humble bartender's curiosity? Well? We don't have all night, shitstain."

"Hey, language, Darius, we've got a kid here," Jack chided, putting a hand on Darius's shoulder.

Darius wanted to point out that this "kid" had just slaughtered 8 heavily armed raiders in no time flat but decided to keep his mouth shut. Jack turned to the raider, giving him one of his signature shit-eating grins.

"Look pal, my friend here is pretty lacking in the patience department. Just tell us what we want to know and you're free to go. Hell, I'll even pop a stimpak in your pocket."

The raider glared at him, spitting out blood.

"I ain't tellin you shit, you fucking dildo."

"Dildo?" Bonnie's voice was curious and innocent and Jack had a mini panic attack.

"Don't repeat that! Just forget you heard it, Bonnie!" He turned his attention back to the raider, his voice a low growl so that Bonnie would not hear him.

"Listen here, dickbag, you better watch your language because we're going to have a problem if you pollute that girl's mind."

The raider laughed cruelly.

"That girl?! She's a fucking freak is what she is! And when the rest of my guys find out what happened here, they're gonna come for you assholes! You're all dead man! And that girl? Oh the things the boss is gonna do to her, they'll fuck her so bad she'll never- GAH!"

Whatever he was about to finish with was interrupted by a solid knuckle from Jack's right fist. He hit the guy so hard, he, along with the chair he was tied to, toppled over onto the ground.

"Bonnie."

"Hmm?" She tilted her head curiously at the sternness in Jack's voice while looking at his back, not able to see the cold expression on his face

"Do me a favour and head back to the inn and clean yourself up. Put the dirty clothes aside and head to bed. I'll clean it up when I get back."

"But-"

"Bonnie."

Jack's voice was resolute and firm. He was not going to budge, despite how much he usually spoiled her. Bonnie did not want him to get mad at her, so she quietly grabbed her things and walked out the door, Nuka Cola still in hand. As she began down the street in the direction of the inn, she heard screams of pain coming from the bar. Darius had not managed to get anything out of the man, so she idly wondered what Jack was doing to elicit such a response. She tuned it out and stopped to examine her handiwork for a moment before grabbing 3 of the fallen assault rifles and carrying them awkwardly on the top sides of her elbows as she continued walking into the night, continuing to sip her Nuka Cola in sweet pleasure.

By the time Jack got back to his room with Bonnie at the Phoenix Inn with the knuckles in his right hand stinging, it was well past midnight and he decided he would have to wash off the blood from his duster along with Bonnie's clothes in the morning. When he opened the door, he was not quite surprised to find Bonnie still awake, having changed into one of his old flannels that he had given her. The shirt was incredibly oversized on her, being more akin to a dress, and he hoped she had remembered to wear something underneath. She was busy with a new project at the table and he saw the stripped down rifles on the floor next to her, finding that she had just managed to cut down one of the stocks and attached it to her 10MM SMG. He also saw that before that, she had cut down one of the rifles for a shorter barrel and replaced the stock with a skeletal one that she had fashioned from the spare parts of the other. She must have borrowed the workbench in the yard behind the Inn.

"Hey kiddo, what are you still doing up?"

"Not tired." She replied without looking at him.

Jack chuckled, figuring that the real reason was that she wanted to wait for him and got way too caught up in her tinkering in the process.

"Well, I am, so I'm gonna hit the hay. We got a lead and we'll head out in the morning so don't stay up too late, okay?"

"Okay."

Jack left her to work and tossed his duster onto the dusty old armchair in the corner of the room before kicking off his boots and practically collapsed into his bed. The raider was tougher than he looked and Jack had to put his knife to good use before he finally got the information out of him. The whole thing had left him exhausted and he let out a big yawn before putting his hat over his face and going right off into dreamland.

Jack opened his eyes, drowsily lifting his hat off his face. He peered at the window next to the door and saw that it was still dark, he must have slept for about an hour or two. He turned his head and found the slumped over form of a little girl at the table, her cheek resting on her arms. Jack smiled warmly, one of the few genuine smiles he ever made. She quietly got out of bed, careful not to step on the creaking wooden board by his bed and snuck over to Bonnie before gently rubbing her head. Still asleep, the girl moaned softly from the gesture and snuggled her cheek into her arms. It was moments like this that made Jack momentarily forget that Bonnie was not a normal little girl.

He sighed, a little sadly, before gently picking Bonnie up, careful not to wake her before carrying her over to her bed and setting her down on the mattress on her side. He gently pushed her bangs out from her eyes, noting that he would have to trim them soon, and pulled his spare leather jacket out of his pack and covered her legs with it like a blanket. She made a soft noise in her sleep and her expression softened, causing Jack to smile once more, wondering when he had gotten so attached to her.

"Sweet dreams, kiddo."

Then, he went to turn off the lamp at the table and went back to sleep himself.

Heyaaaa, this is a little something something a friend of mine and I have had an idea for a while now and he is the creator of Jack while I created Bonnie. I'll have a little section in the bottom of each chapter with some details on stuff like what weapons each character is using etc but just know that this series will draw on every released Fallout media, including Tactics and the original interplay games.

Now for some trivia!

The armour that Bonnie wears is the light combat chest piece from fallout 4 painted in black.

The rifles that the raiders are using are the R91s from Fallout 3.

The .44 Magnum that Jack uses is the one from New Vegas.

This first arc will take place in Arizona but Jack and Bonnie's "home base" is situated closer to California, in NCR territory. This story will take place in many locales around the west coast, which I am sure to butcher because I am not even from the USA xD

The weapons and armour in this series will include modding including original designs by myself.

Jack wears something similar to the FNV Ranger duster without a helmet.

With that, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!