The door was stuck, and resisted when she pushed against it. Shoving at it harder, she made it a point not to look back, and forced it open on the fourth try. Drawing the shotgun up, she hugged the wall as she slipped through, and was surprised to feel the sun on her arms.
The mall's roof was an open area, empty aside from the debris that had been dragged there over the years. What caught her attention, however, was the almost verdant greenery growing up there. The small park had to have been a beautiful stopping point for tired shoppers and families in its heyday. Just a quiet spot to take a moment and rest, undisturbed by anything.
Sweeping left to right, she waited a solid minute before lowering her weapon, but didn't take a single step out onto the grass. Disturbing it almost seemed wrong, somehow, and she angled her head towards the door. "Clear!"
MacCready's shadow appeared out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked towards him, his rifle remained raised. She didn't blame him at all for the added security as he gave the space another scan, but once he caught her raised eyebrows, he lowered it. Only a fraction, but enough for her to see his own eyebrows flick up. "Not seeing a whole lot up here, boss."
"No. Anything that might've been here was blown away or fell apart a long time ago. Shame. Would've been nice to kick back and take a load off for a while."
"Up here?"
"Yeah," she said, framing the greenery with her fingers. "A small table, and a couple of beers, and we'd have a pretty…"
It was faint, but the sound of engines caught her attention. Coming from her right, she turned her eyes towards the horizon, and kept on looking until she saw the Vertibird.
"Uh, boss?"
V tilted her hat back to better see it, and pointed off into the distance. "Vertibird."
Wandering over towards the edge of the building, she tried to spot any sign of a disturbance below. Anytime she'd heard the roar of engines before, the Brotherhood had set their sights on a super mutant compound, or a group of ferals. This time they didn't seem to be firing on much of anything, and that alone was a relief.
Still, anyone could be on it. Initiates, scribes, knights. Hell, even Danse. No Paladin was left idle for long, and he never seemed content if he had to linger in one place.
"Where's it going?"
Snapping herself out of it, she squinted at the aircraft as it continued to fade out. "Definitely not our way. I give it a minute more, and I doubt I'll even be able to pick it out."
MacCready spat on the ground behind her, and she could hear the distaste in his voice. "Good riddance. Wherever they go tends to end up a smoking crater, so let's hope they don't decide to turn that around."
Her back remained turned as she mulled over his words, but couldn't resist peeking at him. "They?"
"The Brotherhood. You know, armored a-holes, generally touchy about anything ranging from computers to flip-lighters?" His mouth twisted bitterly. "Don't even bother talking to them, just turn around and get out before things go south, because they always do."
Always? "Speaking from experience, or…?"
"Trust me, boss. They're bad news, and the sooner they move on the better."
V pursed her lips, but gave him a short nod before turning away. "Noted." The lump that formed in her throat took longer than needed to swallow, but she forced it down as she watched the aircraft continue on its course.
It finally flew out of sight, carrying its crew with it, and she let out a sigh.
She glanced over at her now-silent partner, only to catch a flash of movement. Her eyes cut to the right, towards the large, scaled beast from hell climbing up over the edge of the building, and her heart leapt right into her throat.
Deathclaw. The likes of which she'd only officially dealt with once, and that was while wearing an ancient suit of power armor, spraying a hell of a lot of bullets, and Preston covering her. Two things that she was very much missing right at this moment.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
MacCready grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled, guiding her towards the roof's exit as the roar filled the air. Somehow he fumbled the door open, slamming it against the brick, and neither cared enough about the possibility of it fitting through the doorway to stop and block it off.
They practically slid down the collapsed path to the elevator, and he hit the call button as soon as it was within reach. V was the one to hit the button for the first floor as they slammed their backs against the far wall, but she didn't stop jabbing at it until the doors were well and truly shut.
That was when she realized MacCready's mouth was going. It didn't make sense at first – the ringing in her ears was too damn loud to make out much else – but once her body quit shaking, his words started to come through. "-please, please don't let those freaking things know how to operate elevators or doors. Please don't let a crap situation get worse, because they always can."
The small space shook as the elevator made its way down, both of them slumped against the far side of it. In the back of her mind, she was aware of the fact that his grip on her wrist wasn't loose by any means of the word, but he didn't let go. Only kept on muttering to himself until the ding of the bell cut over him.
"MacCready?"
"Yeah?"
Her heart didn't want to stop thudding against her ribcage. "I never did do much of the church thing, but I don't think that's how it goes."
"Long as you got the basics down, do you really think anyone's going to give a shit?" He swallowed hard after the statement left his mouth, but after running a hand over his face, he seemed calmer. "Please don't tell me you want to go back up there."
"I really, really don't want to go back up there."
"Good." He let go then, flexing his fingers as he looked her over quickly. "Because if it's all the same to you, I feel like I've shaved ten years off of my life."
"Almost makes scavving exciting in comparison, huh?"
He looked right at her, his hat crooked on his head, and said evenly, "Don't push it, boss."
"Figured I'd try, but…before we get too ahead of ourselves, what do you say we grab as much as we can carry and switch locations? I'm not really digging this spot much anymore. Agreed?"
"Abso-friggin-lutely."
They grabbed whatever bags and random gear they could carry and booked it. Darting through the ruined buildings, they didn't stop until they were positive they lost their tail, and made sure they weren't running into a worse situation than the one they'd left.
The way out north, they settled for digging through a bombed out general store. Lucky for her this one wasn't a) inhabited by a pissed off Deathclaw, b) full of ferals, or c) picked over too badly, so it was a decent consolation prize after losing out on the mall's offerings.
MacCready lingered outside for a few minutes, most likely to sneak a cigarette. She'd bet money on it, especially after catching him lighting up that morning. He kept on rubbing his lips at odd intervals, drawing her eye as he'd sigh in aggravation and tap out a rhythm against his rifle, and the sight sent an odd pang through her.
He wasn't half as bad as Troy had been. He'd been a chain-smoker for years and had only started to slow down when Adam was born. She hadn't been much better herself, starting fairly young, and only upping her use once she joined up, but after years of waffling on it, had managed to full-on quit shortly after she learned she was expecting.
Still, she understood that pull. If it had been five years ago, she would've crawled out of their near-death situation only to burn through an entire pack. If Mac wanted one, he could have it. He'd damn well earned it.
With him occupied, she started picking the place over. Water was always top priority, with food a close second. The first few items she stashed were entirely practical, but it didn't take long for her to let up on the loose requirements she was standing by. When he rejoined her a few minutes later, the cigarette long gone, but the scent still present, she didn't elaborate on the process; she just started passing things his way. With two backpacks in addition to the duffel from the mall, they could handle a little extra weight.
Pens were the first to get a pass. One of them was even red, and she slipped them into her jacket to save for Piper. She always kept an eye out for them, and you could never have too many spares. Cigarettes she snapped up for Nick, and she couldn't pass up a decent map of Massachusetts that she could see Preston appreciating.
There was even a spare battery she could scav for her trouble. Whispering more than a few thank yous to the air, she lifted it up, half-hugging it to her, and froze in place when she caught Mac's raised eyebrow. He'd been in the middle of dusting his hands off on his duster as he walked on over, but slowed down to a complete stop when he noticed what she was up to.
The battery slid in her grip, and she hoped to God it wasn't about to land right on her feet.
"So, boss," he began.
"Yeah?"
"I know you've got a method you're working here, but…"
She shifted it in her arms to keep from dropping it. "But what?"
"You wanna elaborate on that? Cause from here it all looks like pointless crap to me." He rocked on his feet as he stood there, watching her, and pointed at the battery in her hands. "Well, other than that. Batteries can be hooked up to all kinds of stuff, but that space monkey thing you forced on me earlier? You've got to share what exactly it's good for fixing."
"Moon monkey, thank you very much. But okay, it's just…"
Something cute. Something innocent and silly that might draw a laugh or two. Something possibly for…
Her eyes fluttered as she forced the painful lump in her throat down. "Just something."
She wrapped the battery up in an old newspaper and slipped it into the bag she'd placed on the floor. There wasn't much space for it, but once she fished out the bottle of soda she'd nicked earlier, everything seemed to slot together better.
Her eyes continued to prickle at the edges, but she was sure they'd stay dry. At least for now. "Everything's got a use. I figure I can ask Sturges about it later."
"Sturges?"
"He's a pretty handy guy back at home base. He'll know exactly where to put ol' Jangles to good use. And tell me he isn't a little cute. Even a sliver."
"With eyes like that?" MacCready shuddered. "No, not even close."
She pouted, but let it go. "Anyway, it's a system. Everything that I run into's potentially something I can put to use later at Sanctuary, or on the road, but some items draw priority over others. Food's food. Tasty, but with a side order of rads that'll get the counter clicking. Water's the same, but they're essentials and worth the hit."
Setting a hand on her hip, she lightly tapped the toe of her boot against a nearby bucket.
"Scrap's easier to sort through. These are easy scores, but heavy. Duct tape and wonderglue are absolute lifelines. Oil cans are super light, but you need at least five or six to call it a good haul. I can't even say how frustrating it is to siphon every last drop only to be told it's just a hair below the minimum for the generator."
"It's a pain. Check. But what about that?"
He'd been subtly eying the soda ever since she'd pulled it out. "But this stuff," she said, dangling the soda bottle in front of her,"...this was something worth keeping an eye out for. Before the war it was something, but now it's got actual kick. You've got to put the rad in radical somehow, am I right?"
The joke was terrible even by her standards, but she somehow managed to pull a smile out of him. "Boss. Really?"
"Hey, eighty percent of the time it's worth it. The rads, that is. Okay, maybe the joke as well."
Flipping the Nuka Cola up in the air only to catch it by its neck, she wandered over to MacCready and held it out to him. He looked between the soda and her, waiting to see if she'd take it back. When she didn't, he tentatively took it, and didn't let his eyes leave her until he'd popped it open.
"And the other twenty?" he said, rolling the bottle cap between his fingers for a few seconds before pocketing it.
"It's the start of a really long day. Or week, if you don't know a doc nearby. Heaven forbid you've got an aversion to needles too." She shuddered. "Almost makes the rad sickness worth dealing with if you can avoid them."
He polished off the soda in a quick gulp, and sighed. "Are you always this chatty, boss?"
"Nope."
She circled a ripe salvage spot, and kicked away the pieces of sheet metal so she could get a better look at the baseball bat buried there. When he stayed silent, she turned just enough to catch the skeptical glance he was aiming at her.
"Okay, maybe. I don't see anything wrong with it. It's just a little friendly back and forth that hopefully won't always be this one-sided."
She pushed the brim of her hat up so she could get a better look at him, and the corner of his mouth rose. He always seemed to have a bit of a sardonic smile ready for her, but this seemed softer. "If you say so."
"Hey, I was traveling with two other people before you, so there was always a conversation happening. Weather, local news, saucy details. The good stuff. I don't know about you, but it's sure as hell better than the alternative." Rubbing her hands together, she wrapped her fingers around the handle of the bat, and gave it a tug. It was wedged in there, but not too deep. "Too much silence, and all I'm left with is myself, and I've had enough of that, thank you."
With a mighty yank, the baseball bat came loose, and she turned it over in her hands. It wasn't as damaged as it could've been, only sporting a few solid dents in the darkened wood, and she gave it an experimental swing.
"What do you think?"
MacCready watched her closely as she shifted into her rusty approximation of a batting stance, but wrinkled his nose when she acknowledged him. "That moldy thing?"
"It's not moldy." She didn't dare sniff it to check, but it seemed in okay shape. "Could be prime swatter material."
"The only thing prime about it, boss, is the fact that it's past it."
The part of her that was pushing two-hundred and thirty – was that right? She didn't fucking know anymore - got mildly peeved at his remark, but brushed it off. He had no clue, none at all, and for a moment she found herself wondering just how old he was in turn. Her gut told her that she had a few years on him, maybe even a handful. The scruffy goatee he sported gave him an edge, but she'd never know for sure, short of asking him directly.
…But no matter the answer, she'd promptly tell him to get the hell off of her lawn, because she was supposed to be the grumpy elder of the two, dammit.
"Come on, use your imagination."
"All right," MacCready replied, rolling his eyes. "Let me set the scene for you. Raider knucklehead number one has a shotgun. Raider knucklehead number two has a pistol. Raider number three would have his gun out, but instead he's rolling around on the ground laughing his head off, because someone forgot it's stupid to bring a bat to a gunfight. They fire. You die. It's a friggin' mess. Done."
V's shoulders slumped. "Aww, come on, Mac, don't be a killjoy."
"Of course, a bat sure as hell beats a rock, but…what doesn't?"
"Kill. Joy," she emphasized, seconds away from flipping him the bird. "Way to shoot an idea down before it can get off the ground."
He blinked at her for a few seconds, then sputtered, "Hey, that kind of conclusion's pretty fu-freaking reasonable if you ask me!"
"Okay, you don't want to carry it so many miles to the next settlement so I can hock it. I get it." She tossed it his way, and was relieved that he left a hand free to catch it. "But it's how I do business. I scav it, you bag it, so when I get paid, you get paid. Can't get any simpler than that."
"That still leaves me carrying more than half my weight in grade-A junk. That's borderline ridiculous, boss."
"Half?" She looked him up and down, giving him the quickest appraisal she could manage, and chewed on the corner of her lip as she considered him. "I know you're weedy, but not that weedy."
The scowl MacCready wore came off more as a pissed off pout, and she found herself biting off a chuckle when he flashed his middle finger at her.
"Hey, I'm just messing with you. I know shooting's what you're good at, but I, for one, am over the moon that we're able to shoulder each other's burdens. Especially since half of the payout's yours if you manage to help me haul it there."
That got his attention.
"And it doesn't hurt that we haven't been shot at half as much as we could've been. In fact, I almost want to say that the odds of that happening might've gone down over the last few days."
And okay, maybe she wanted to smooth out his ruffled feathers a bit. Seemed only fair since he'd taken it upon himself to keep her ass from getting shot. The way he'd kept up with the back and forth her drunk self initiated was simply a bonus.
"Compared to what? Before?" he asked, slipping the bat into the backpack.
"Yeah, never could go too long without some jerk trying to open fire on us out there, and that was when we weren't unintentionally announcing ourselves to the Commonwealth."
Out of all of her companions, Danse was likely the worst offender in that department, but the man lived in his power armor, for God's sake. She'd seen him out of it a grand total of two times – once by accident – and a towering metal man was far from subtle, even if he made sure to tread lightly. Add her, and there was no hope of the two ever sneaking through an area without barreling through any resistance head-on.
"We, as in we? Or we, as in you?"
"I don't like what you're implying there." V turned her nose up at his teasing tone, and made sure to glance away before he noticed her own burgeoning smile.
"Can't deny the facts if they're true, boss." MacCready had been pacing around her, his hat drawn into the same careful position he eased it into from to time, but drew in close enough for her to get a good look at him anyway. "You want me to tell you how many cans you accidentally kicked on our way through here?"
"No, I don't think you-"
"Four." He held up his fingers, and wiggled them for extra measure. "And one broom."
"The area was clear. We established that."
"Clear, but you know how long it takes a mole rat or a feral to come barreling through here? No time flat. But if you were aiming to make a clean sweep…"
"God, we're on a hell of a tangent, aren't we? What were we going over again?"
"Your problem with a little thing called cover?"
"Hey, I'm actually trying to thank you here, in case it's not painfully obvious. I haven't even talked about the lovely death machine that would've taken my head off if not for your intervention."
He rolled his eyes, but when she held his gaze, he started fiddling with the rifle strap slung over his shoulder. "I'm quick when it counts. And a boss usually needs to be alive to pay off the hired help, so…we cut down on the Deathclaw sightings, and you'll only benefit. Just a thought."
"Noted. It's bad for the help too, I'd imagine."
"It straight up sucks."
"Good thing I have you then," she said with a teasing grin. "You sure you aren't a good luck charm of some sort?"
He stared at her for a second, but when that stare drifted down to her mouth, he laughed. The sound came out as a short bark as his shoulders shook, his attention swinging away from her. Puzzled by his behavior, she placed a hand on her hip and waited. What it was that she caught, however, was gone by the time he looked her in the eye again.
"I'm heading back outside. We need to keep an eye on our exits," he said, tossing the pack her way before walking out. "You want more of this crap, fine, but you're gathering it yourself. No amount of luck's going to help me cover you if my hands are too damn full to shoot."
Once MacCready left, she made a grab for a few more things. The silence grated at her with every step, and she found herself shuffling out in record time.
She was relieved to see he hadn't gone too far from the entrance, only to a point where he could hole up without being seen. He raised his chin when she waved for him to follow, and she didn't wait for him to catch up. Just pressed on, and hoped he wasn't in the mood to drag his feet.
When the sun drifted low enough to cast everything in faded orange light, they shifted their focus from scavving to shelter. Most of the houses lining the street were blackened and falling apart, so she settled for the same method of narrowing them down that she used the night before.
Eeeny meeny miney moe, she whispered to herself as she checked them out, and when her finger settled on the lucky winner, she motioned for Mac to follow her. Like before, her luck seemed to hold up. The place had a stable foundation and wasn't too exposed to the elements, but more importantly wasn't infested with raiders or mutants.
When they finished clearing the house out, they set up as best a barricade as they could for the house's front door. The hidden mine on the doorstep was overkill, but overkill she insisted on while MacCready rolled his eyes and made sure the windows were shuttered.
Once they were both convinced it wasn't going to draw a lot of notice, she worked on getting a small fire lit. Just enough to get some warmth into the drafty place, and to cook up some food too. Cooking had never been her thing, not even before when she had an oven and all you supposedly had to do was jab a few buttons and wait, but she'd gotten better at searing things over her time in the Commonwealth.
Just a little, she repeated to herself as part of the squirrel stick caught fire, but she managed to put it out before too much damage was done. Nothing like a little char on the old meat, eh?
She made a face, and hoped that MacCready didn't hear the snort that came with the thought. He hadn't said more than ten words to her on their way over here, but seemed ready to, giving her passing glances every time he seemed sure her back was turned.
He continued making slow circuits around the bottom floor, rotating between lookout spots as she cooked, and once it was done she almost had to punch him in the leg to get him to take a break. The squirrel bits came out closer to crispy than charred, but he didn't complain when she handed a stick off to him, and she found herself grateful for it.
Once that small victory had been established, they quickly ate what they could afford to, and put out the fire so they could move upstairs. Sleeping out in the ruins of town was always a gamble, but she wanted to give the area one last pass before clearing out.
She set up a small lantern, keeping it dim enough to light the room without burning too bright, and pushed it towards MacCready when he started going through his ammo stores. He counted the bullets one by one, readying spare clips for his rifle before storing them, and once he was done, reached for her weapons.
She hadn't asked, and he hadn't verbalized the offer, but she didn't stop him. Just watched him work as she took small sips of water before returning to her pip boy.
She idly twisted her wedding band around her finger as she fiddled with the device, and tried to plot the rest of the path she seemed set on. They needed to swing back to Sanctuary at the end, that much was certain, but if they could stop anywhere else of note…
"Aha," she said, tapping her nail against the screen.
"Aha, what?" MacCready asked.
She didn't look up, but she could tell his eyes were on her. "Well, it's not a set thing, but there's a good chance we can unload some of this stuff at a settlement nearby. Of course we could always just backtrack to Goodneighbor, but we need to start heading northwest. Looping back'll only chew up more time."
He finished sorting through the extra shotgun shells, and set them aside. "Are we on a time limit, boss?"
"Not…exactly." She bit the inside of her cheek, but not before getting the statement out. "I'd just rather not wander more than we should. It's not exactly the friendliest place to settle down and get comfortable in you know?"
"Could say that for the entire Commonwealth. Even those places that are deemed 'safe'." He frowned and shifted his attention back to her weapons. "It never lasts. Only long enough to make a mistake somewhere and pay for it."
"Is that what happened?" She bit her tongue shortly after the question left her mouth, and wasn't surprised when MacCready gave her a sharp look. "I, uh, shit. That didn't come out right."
"Well, it's out," he replied flatly.
She pulled her hat off, and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I know. Just forget it."
He held her eyes for a beat longer than she expected him to, and when he finally glanced away, he sighed. "But you aren't wrong. Working odd jobs out of a back room's not the best set up I've had."
"But it's what you've got. Or what you've had to settle for?" He didn't say anything, so she kept on going. "Triggermen?"
He shook his head. "Nah, they're too in love with that whole old-world, pre-war gangster crap. ...But when you're looking for work and the thing you're best at is aiming a gun, you'll take whatever work you can get. Even if it means working with a bunch of a-holes that'll shoot someone if they so much as breathe wrong."
"A-holes?" She gave him a wry grin. "I think you're being generous."
"Damn straight. I'd rather call them something else entirely, but with a lady present…"
Her eyebrows flew up. "What?"
MacCready held strong for all of ten seconds before a smile broke across his face. "So that's a hard sell to you too?"
She couldn't muster up a single shred of offense. Not one bit, so she settled for pelting his arm with a small stone instead. "Ass."
That didn't stop his snickering in the slightest. "You're the one that called me on it. And again with the rocks? That fight wasn't enough for you?"
"Shut up. I was too lazy to go for my boot." He rolled his eyes, and she sat up straight. "Don't push me, Mac."
"Wouldn't dream of it, boss," he replied, and winked at her.
Liar. The corners of her mouth twitched up as she relaxed her posture, and folded her feet under her. "Now it's your turn."
"To?"
"To ask about this," she said, holding up her Pip-Boy. "It's only fair."
"And ruin the mystery?" he joked. "Could've bought that or stolen it off of anyone. Vault dweller or not."
"But…?"
"But say you were. That wouldn't be the thing that gave you away." She raised an eyebrow and he gestured towards his mouth. "It's these. Anyone that has all of their teeth, and can flash 'em with pride's gotta be Vault-born and raised."
So, that's what…that's what it was?
She thought back to how she must've looked in that instant, and nearly burst out laughing."Bravo, Mr. Merc! You get a gold star." It wasn't a hundred percent right, but she'd give it to him.
"It's harder to tell without the suit," MacCready replied, looking her over. "Probably why you're still breathing, honestly."
Only a select few had seen her running around in the thing, but she was inclined to agree. Shedding it sooner rather than later had removed a large target from her back, even if she still held onto her Pip-Boy.
She chuckled, but the minute she felt her teeth tug at her lips, she released them. "Between you and me, I'm more a fan of red, myself. I'm honestly surprised you stuck with green." His eyes snapped back to her face, and she picked at the rolled-up sleeve of her faded red shirt. "You know. Seems like Gunner colors if you ask me."
"Hey, if it ain't broke, no reason to fix it. Besides, it brings out my eyes."
"Uh huh." The crooked smile he gave her was slow, but one she didn't mind returning. "I'll have to take your word on that."
"Likewise. At least the nickname actually makes sense now. V? Vault?"
"Not quite there, pal. There's a little more to it than that," she said, cutting in. "Not that V for Vaultie doesn't crack me up any, but it's actually a silly nickname my old squadmates used to call me. Could've just gone for my full last name, but they felt like being creative."
He flicked his eyebrows up. "Real creative."
She picked up the water she'd been nursing, and took a long swig of it. "Anyway, with it officially dark now, we need to go over watch. How did you want to divvy it up tonight? You had morning last time."
He opened his mouth, probably to keep on going on the previous thread of conversation, but shrugged instead. "I'm fine with switching off, but…morning's still sounding good this time around. If you're okay with that, boss."
"Sure. I think I'd do a piss-poor job of sleeping right now anyway." She wrinkled her nose. "And I've never been much of a morning person, anyway."
MacCready gave her weapons back to her, and reached for his rifle, every action telling her he was getting ready for watch instead of sleep. But once he had everything he needed – his hands drifting to his ammo belt and binoculars before leaving them in place – he leaned against the wall, and tugged the brim of his hat down low enough to cover his eyes. Only then did the line of his shoulders start to relax.
But it wasn't until she heard his slow inhale and exhale that she was convinced he was asleep. Balled up against the wall, his rifle remained in the same position as before; laid across his lap, his hands holding it loose, but close, and she didn't doubt that he could snap a few shots off at a second's notice.
She climbed to her feet, grabbing Righteous Authority on the way, and crept towards the nearest window. The shattered blinds hid most of the outside world from her, but there was enough of a gap for her to pick out the trash littering the streets, along with the junked vehicles. She stood there for who knew how long, listening for anything other than the wind whistling through the wooden panels, and for once her luck seemed to reward her.
It was calm. Blissfully, wonderfully calm, and she could work with that. God, could she ever.
But for now it was just her. Left staring out into the dark as it stretched out into the horizon. She eased an unsteady breath through her nose and tapped her fingers along the side of her laser rifle, listening for anything that might break the quiet settling over them.
When nothing did, she settled for breaking it herself. Her fingers hadn't been moving in any particular rhythm, but after a few seconds they found one that was familiar. It was an old song - practically ancient now - but one that the locals had taken to playing on the radio every now and then, and one that couldn't help but tune in to whenever it came on.
The tapping helped, and before long she let a low hum join it.
A few scattered gunshots went off in the distance, and her voice cut off sharply. Usually one volley lead to another, and sure enough a few pops rang through the night. Soon they died down, however, and once they did, she let out a slow breath between her teeth.
When the silence started to creep in again, she let the old tune in her head play once more. Pulling her hat off, V combed her fingers through her messy hair, and snuck another look MacCready's way, only to start. He was peering right back at her, his brows drawn together, and she fumbled for a quick response, only to hear him speak up. "Boss?"
"Sorry, I didn't think… I'll keep it down from now on."
"No, it's-I thought you'd turned on the radio for a second. No complaints here, I was just…" He let the sentence hang as she studied him, but didn't elaborate further. That's when a few more shots went off, drawing his attention to the window she was standing by. "They're not getting any closer, are they?"
She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Gunfire's been cutting in and out, but it doesn't seem to be coming our way."
And she didn't hear any howling, or damned clicking either. She could count the number of times she'd faced down one of the running bombs, but the suggestion of the rapid whirring that came with that breed of super mutant never failed to make her blood run cold.
"Good," he said, drawing his limbs closer. "…The minute it starts to, kick the hell out of me, will you?"
She had half a mind to make a crack about how he'd try to shoot her if she did, but the unease crossing his features stopped her. "You got it."
Her eyes went back to the window, and the burned out building next door.
And when his calm breathing joined the other sounds in the room, she didn't turn to check. Not this time around.
This was really one elaborate excuse to get these two scavenging and talking. But hey, it's not all bad. The trick is seeing what happens when they make it back to Sanctuary.