Disclaimer: Not mine

Warnings: Ooc and children abuse? Mentions of Vaultie/Winthrop and Sydney/Quinn.

A/N: I don't know where this came from, but it wouldn't leave my mind until I wrote it. Tell me what you think.

Dirty White Picket Fence

Children were a rare sight in the Wasteland. The living conditions after the bombs fell made only the most sturdy and hardened survive, if not to old age, then at least to adulthood. It was rumored that the children of Little Lamplight were, in truth, children abandoned there by their parents with the hope of giving them some chance of survival. Besides the children city, established settlements were the next best thing. It was an even rarer (some would even say impossible) sight to see children in Underworld. Ghouls do not reproduce and no one in their right mind would brave entering mutant territory with a kid in their care.

That was the reason why Sydney stared at the two little girls playing tag around the entrance to Underworld wondering if the heat finally got her to hallucinate. A raspy chuckle startled her and she turned towards the sound, gun in hand and heart pounding, only to stop her finger from pulling the trigger when she saw who it was.

"Damn it, Quinn, I could've shot you!" she said, annoyance clearly written on her face as she holstered back her weapon.

"I'm faster than you, kid," he said, taking a drag out of his cigarette; seemingly uncaring to the danger he'd been just minutes before.

It was then she noticed the ghoul's rifle was on his hand and not at his back. Overlooking something like that was fatal out in the wastes. She was either getting too old or too overworked to notice it sooner. It could also be that she was too distracted by the child-like laughter that echoed around the room.

The woman turned her head to the side to get a better view of the two girls. One had short brown hair and a little white bow. The other had longer hair of the same color and a white ribbon to keep it off her face.

"The one with the white bow is Flower," Quinn said while she looked at the girls, "Her sister's name is Rachel."

She turned to stare at the ghoul with a raised eyebrow, "Where are their parents? Don't they know there are ferals running around the museum?"

Quinn dropped the cigarette to the floor and stepped on it. He looked at the two kids with something Sydney couldn't quite identify before he spoke again.

"They're dead as far as I know. Winthrop's smoothskin brought them here after rescuing them from slavers and we've been keeping an eye on them ever since."

Now this was something new. Maybe she should've come around here more often. That way she could, at least, keep up with the latest gossip. Last time she came here Winthrop was too busy to look at another ghoul, let alone a human. Hell, one of the perks to visit this place was the fact that ghouls did not flirt or seek relationships with humans. She had so many questions about how exactly that happened, but Quinn was walking away from her and she watched as the two girls stopped playing and followed him.

"You staying there, smoothskin?" Quinn said over his shoulder and Sydney hurried to catch up to him.

She noticed that the two girls inched closer to the ghoul when she approached. One of them went as far as grabbing his hand, which made Quinn throw a surprised glance at the kid. Sydney could've laughed at his face, but the fact that the girls felt safer around ghouls than with a human drove the humor out of the situation.

They entered Underworld without a word. The relic hunter always needed a few minutes to get accustomed to the smell of rot and decay that permeated the ghoul settlement. Sydney was surprised to see Nurse Graves waiting at the entrance. She watched as the two girls detached themselves from Quinn and launched themselves at the nurse, who chuckled gravely before stifling a cough.

"Hello. How's it going?" Quinn said as he approached the nurse.

"Very good, actually. We only had to deal with Patchwork, but there's not a day that goes without him loosing an appendage."

Quinn nodded, but Sydney always found Patchwork's drunken antics hilarious and was hard-pressed not to laugh at his misfortune.

"I thought Tulip would be the one to come and get them when their playtime was over."

Nurse Graves ruffled one of the kids' hair while she spoke, "She found some old items and is busy trying to salvage something for her store. Not that it would do her any good, but I don't have the heart to tell her that."

Quinn seemed amused by her words and Sydney wondered just how good of a business could one make here. Meanwhile, both ghouls exchanged a few more words before splitting up. Nurse Graves with a girl attached to each hand. The relic hunter could not stop staring at them.

"I need a drink," Quinn said, approaching her, "And you look like you need one too."

The relic hunter could feel the bone-deep weariness settling in now that she was somewhere relatively safe. She nodded and followed Quinn silently to the Ninth Circle. She always favored this place when she came to visit, even if she firmly believed someone should make the world a favor and kill the sleazy owner. Sydney had toyed with the idea briefly, but she'd rather deal with one slimy ghoul than be thrown out or killed by a mob of ghouls.

She nodded to the bodyguard, even though she knew by now the greeting would be ignored. Quinn steered them away from the crowd. She thought back on the time she met the ghoul while on a job. She'd been injured and he brought her to Underworld to get medical attention. Up until then she'd avoided ghouls like the plague. But ever since then she began to see them in a new light. Sure, most of them were openly hostile, but after her experiences with human males she'd grown to enjoy the hostile distance. Working with Quinn slowly developed into a friendship of sorts and she was content with that. He was someone that would miss her if she died and that gave her something to live for, even if it wasn't much.

The ghoul in question handed her a whiskey bottle and she gave it a wary glance before taking the cap off and drinking from it without bothering with a glass. She smiled at the feeling of the alcohol burning her throat when she swallowed. Quinn looked amused for a moment, a beer bottle in his hands.

"I'm curious," she began while thinking of the two little girls, "Why do they seem afraid of me?"

Quinn took a sip from his beer and sighed, "I wasn't there, kid. All I know is that one day Winthrop's smoothskin came here with a boy in her arms and three little girls behind her. The boy was almost dead by then and the doctor did all he could, but it was too late. Now the girls were another story. They just huddled in a corner like frightened animals. We thought it was natural since we are not exactly good looking, but they were even terrified of the Vault kid; and she'd been the one to save them. Smoothskin says that slavers attacked their farm in the Republic of Dave."

"You said three girls," Sydney interrupted, "Where's the other one?"

The relic hunter swore the ghoul's face grew somber, but that might be the alcohol talking. She didn't miss how the grip on his beer tightened and she took another swig off her own bottle. She almost shared the same fate as those girls.

"Mary died. Fucking slavers couldn't keep their hands to themselves and she'd freak whenever someone touched her. When she got sick she just gave up. Didn't last a week. Broke Nurse Grave's heart and drove the doctor to drink himself silly that day."

Sydney felt her stomach lurch at his words. She was thankful that someone had saved them, even if only half of them were still alive. She kept drinking from her bottle, if only to forget how close she'd been to become like one of those girls after her father abandoned her.

When she woke up in the morning, she was lying on the bed of a strange room. She didn't remember how she made it there, but her state of undress and the aches in her body told her she had a rather good night. Given who were the residents, she wasn't sure she wanted to know the identity of the person she had sex with. She only hoped it wasn't Azhrukhal or else she would have to kill him.

There was a note beside her and she read it slowly. The fact that it was Quinn that wrote it made her feel funny, but there were worst ghouls. Not like she actually remembered what happened. She tried to get at least a fleeting memory of what they'd done the night before, but nothing came to mind. All she could remember was Quinn talking about the little girls. How that mysterious woman from the Vault, Winthrop took a liking to, had stayed until they got comfortable with the ghouls. How the girls developed a fear of humans that Quinn thought staying in Underworld just made worse. And how Winthrop had been left to care for them while the woman left to continue adventuring on the Wasteland.

A fucking stupid thing to do in her, now sober, mind. Sydney had been part of a family once and, deep down, she knew she missed it. Now this girl had it practically dropped in her lap (even if by horrible means) and she left it to sight see. Sydney re-read the barely legible note. She had come here to rest before heading back to relic hunting, but now she wasn't so sure she wanted to leave. Maybe she could open a small shop around here. God knows Tulip's shop was useless.

She was not staying because maybe Quinn meant something to her. She wasn't' staying because she wanted to reach, and maybe help raise, two little girls. She wasn't staying because she was too tired of fighting out there. She was just contemplating retirement, nothing more.