Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I know, it's been a while, but here I am with an update. And a nice, long one too. I honestly didn't mean for it to come out this long, but this chapter became more involved than I thought it would. If you like, or even if you don't, I welcome feedback!

Chapter Eleven

Lies and Revelations

When Butch finally made it back to his bed that night, it was no surprise that he was having a rough time falling to sleep, and there was no question in his mind as to why; his newly established friendship with Jane - Jane of all people - was weighing heavily on his mind. For several minutes he simply lay there, wondering just why he had answered 'yes' to her a question. While he had admittedly and unexpectedly developed some sort of unexplainable affection for her over the past couple months, the fact remained that he had never exactly been friends with a girl before and didn't even know how to go about it. And even if he did, when he thought about what he'd like to do with Jane, being friends wasn't exactly what he had in mind; it was simply the way he was with women. These thoughts bothered him almost as soon as they came to them; what had it come to that he, the Butch-man and leader of the most bad-ass gang ever to roam Vault 101, was actually friends with the Vault's Number One Daddy's Girl? And further more, did this mean that he actually had to be friends with her before he could get her out of that jumpsuit? Was he losing his touch? That couldn't be possible. No, he had no doubt that he could coax or coerce Jane between his sheets if he had a mind to... And what was he even thinking? Why was he even so interest in that little Daddy's Girl to begin with? And if he was so interested in her, just why hadn't he made his move when he'd had her alone down in the abandoned levels, where there was no one to interrupt them and no one to stop him?

After tossing and turning over these thoughts for maybe fifteen minutes, it hit him: Jane had to be the only girl in the Vault, except for the old women and that frigid bitch Amata, that was uncharted territory, and not only for him, but for every guy in the Vault. And after dealing with the same routine, the same people, the same women, day in and day out for so many years, of course he would jump at the chance for something fresh, something different... and something that hadn't been thorough ploughed by the rest of his gang. After that brief taste he'd had of her in the storage room on the Reactor Level, it could only be expected that he would want more.

And yes, Jane was different. But as appealing as that was, different meant he would have to be patient. The trouble with Jane was that, even though he could easily get her into bed, a girl like her required a kind of... special handling. That was, if he had any intention of it being more than a one-time thing. She was nothing like Christie or Susie or the other women in the Vault, who practically threw themselves at him on a daily basis. Jane had never done anything that might even be loosely described as flirting with him; she was clearly too inexperienced and probably didn't even know how. But, as her friend, Jane would grow to trust him, and if she trusted him enough... well, the rest would fall into place. He would be able to have her without scaring her off, and they would remain friendly enough that she would welcome him back for more, should he want it. If that meant he had to be friends with her, where was the real harm in that? After all, he had a head start. Already he'd learned more about her than he'd ever known in the past decade after spending nearly every day for the past two months with her in that parlor. Better still, she didn't annoy him with constant, meaningless chatter, and she wasn't an overblown, attention seeking bitch that demanded constant maintenance. Indeed, she had a rather quiet appeal that, at this moment, made her more tempting than any of the many willing and experienced women he could call upon at a moment's notice.

No, being friends with Jane wasn't the worst thing he'd ever done. In fact, right now it seemed downright brilliant. Reassured that everything would work out as he wanted, Butch fell asleep to happy thoughts.

At ten o'clock the next morning, Butch DeLoria found himself strolling off to work, though he had in fact been awake since eight. Normally he wouldn't even be out of bed until ten, and it would be another half an hour before he deigned to show his face around the parlor. Of course, it was no mystery to him why he was unusually eager to get to work, and it had nothing to do with the actual work itself... He knew Jane's habits enough to know she would have been there since seven, if not earlier, and he felt a curious anticipation in seeing her, especially after he'd worked everything out last night. But as much as he'd wanted to head off the moment he'd woken up, he'd restrained himself. Nothing good would come from Jane thinking he'd change his well-established habits because of her. She was such a goody-two-shoes that she might actually get it into her head that she could reform him, and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

Just as he turned the corner that would lead him toward the Atrium, Butch found his path blocked, and all thoughts of Jane flew out of his mind. Wally and Paul were waiting for him, standing stoically on either side of the corridor ahead, and he knew without asking just why they were there. Wally was glaring him down as though he were on the same level as Freddie the Freak, and Paul was giving him the same look, though it was just as likely that he was imitating Wally without understand why he was angry. Butch knew he couldn't stand for this kind of insolence from his gang, but even as he swaggered over to where they waited, as cocky and arrogant as ever, he had no idea what he was going to tell them. Inside, he was cursing at himself for not even giving this problem a thought; he'd been too distracted last night.

"Hey guys, I was looking for you last night," he said, baring his teeth at them in a way that resembled a smile. "Where'd you get off to?"

"You were looking for us?" Wally asked, as though he'd misheard. "You hear that, Paul?" he asked, looking toward the lesser member of the group. "Butch was looking for us! Funny, when you think of how we was looking for him half the night." He looked Butch dead in the eye and gave him an equally threatening smile. "I was starting to think you'd taken off with the little Daddy's Girl and left us high and dry."

Butch, who had been expecting just this, did some quick thinking even as he answered. "Naw, man, it wasn't like that at all."

"It wasn't, huh?" Wally asked sardonically. "Then what happened? She get the jump on you and run away to her daddy?"

"Didn't need to," Butch said, leaning casually against the wall. "I let her go."

A ringing silence followed these words. Wally's mouth hung slightly ajar for several moments, as though he couldn't comprehend what Butch had said, but it wasn't long before the words sank in. "You let her go?" he asked, his lips now forming into a skeptical sneer. "And why would I believe that?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Butch asked tersely. "You know as well as I do that she's the only virgin left in the Vault. Well, aside from Amata, but I don't like the thought of having my dick frozen off."

"Yeah, so what?" Wally said.

"Sooooo..." Butch said, as though they were stupid not to realize where he was going. When neither Wally nor Paul said anything, Butch rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll spell it out to you. It was no fun just taking her in some abandoned room like any other gal. Christie and Susie are fast babes, but the Doc's daughter... That's something worth savoring, ya dig?"

"So your plan is to... court her?" Wally asked, his face clearly showing his distaste. "Like some sissy mama's boy?"

Butch inwardly winced at the words. "No, no, nothin' like that," he said smoothly. "It's more like I know she wants it, so I'm gonna make her come and get it. After that, it'll be easy to knock that little bitch down a peg or two. The whole Vault will know she had to come beggin' the Butch-man to give her what she needs, dig?"

Wally looked unusually thoughtful as he considered Butch's plan, and it was obvious by the way his jaw unclenched that he liked the way the picture was playing out in his mind. "Fine, you made your point... but just to be straight, once you're done with her, Paul and I get some of the action too, right?"

"Of course," Butch said easily. "Us Tunnel Snakes don't keep nothin' from our brothers."

"Right," Wally said. "Well, catch ya later, then. I got training to get to."

"Later, Butch," Paul chimed in. "Tunnel Snakes rule!"

Butch watched them go with a distinctly unsettled feeling in his gut, a feeling that he didn't quite understand. He'd gotten Wally off his back, which was good, but in doing so he'd more or less gave them permission to have their 'fun' with Jane once he was done with her, and after going through so much trouble to get her to admit she trusted him, the realization of what he'd done left him feeling... strangely hollow. No matter what he told Wally, the image of his hands on Jane made him want to rip his friend limb from limb... No, he was being stupid. It was pointless to think about it right now. Who knew, maybe when the time actually came, he probably wouldn't even care. And if he did... well, he'd just play along for the moment and deal with them later. He was the leader of this gang, and if either of them wanted to lay a hand on Jane, they'd have to take it up with him first.

As Butch had predicted, Jane was already tinkering away at her workbench when he finally arrived. She was hunched over, a sure sign that she was fixated on whatever new project she was working on, and in interests of their new-found friendship, Butch decided he'd try to say something to her.

"Hey, babe," he greeted smoothly. "Working on some new toy?"

A clattering of tools before she spun around told him that she hadn't heard him come in. "Butch," she said, sounding a little breathless, and somehow surprised to see him there. "No, nothing new. I'm just... well... I decided it was time..."

With a glance at the workbench behind her, Butch saw the small laser gun with it's casing already open and several parts already scattered around it. "Did you think of some way to make it better?" he asked, now genuinely interested.

"Well, not exactly," Jane mumbled, not looking him in the eye anymore. "I decided it was time to take it apart. You know, return it back to its original state and purpose."

"Why would you want to do that?" he asked in disbelief. "That thing was crazy."

"It was, but really, I was out of my mind to make it," she said. "I realized that last night, before you and your gang found me. I should have taken it apart then, but I just had to test fire it, and look what almost happened. You and your gang could have... you know... and if I'd struggled, Wally would have taken me to the Overseer, and if he searched my things thoroughly, he would have realized what I'd done. Not only would I have been in for it, but there's no doubt in my mind the Overseer would have used it as an excuse to punish my father."

Butch scowled. "Then don't get caught with it. It's that simple."

"It's not that simple," Jane insisted. "And it's a huge risk to keep on taking."

"What's the big deal?" he asked. "So his High-and-Mightiness would get his panties in a knot. What's life without risk?"

"I've taken enough risks," Jane said, almost pleadingly. "I made it work. I did what I set out to do. Why keep it going when it's so dangerous?"

"I dunno, maybe because it's what you want? Who cares if it's wrong? It's your life, isn't it?"

Jane turned her back on him, and Butch wasn't certain if she was thinking about his point or not until she said, "I don't really know if it is my life. It's hard to justify that kind of reckless thinking when it could hurt someone I love." She paused, and when Butch came around so that he could see the side of her face, she looked utterly embarrassed even as she chuckled humorlessly. "I guess I really am a Daddy's Girl."

"Yeah, you are," Butch said, but there was none of the mockery that Jane had grown to expect. He seemed to say it as a statement of fact, and after a short pause, he added, "If this is something you gotta do, do it. I won't stop ya. But don't forget that big shots like the Overseer can only boss you around so long as you let 'em."

Butch turned his back on her then and began the daily grind of setting up his work station. It gave him some satisfaction, several minutes later, when he happened to walk past Jane's workbench and saw her back to work, replacing the pieces she'd extracted from the laser gun.

Two days had passed by, and Jane found herself surprised by how... pleasantly everything was progressing. Granted, not much had changed as far as her daily routine went, but there was a subtle difference in the air around the parlor. While she and Butch still engaged in their typical idle banter, the exchange of clever insults were occurring less and were instead replaced by pleasant, if trivial, conversation. She had spent half the night and all morning of that first day worrying and wondering if anything would change between her and Butch, and how it might change, but now she felt silly. While it was clear that Butch felt just as uncertain as she was on what being 'friends' meant for them, he seemed to be making an honest effort, and really, it felt as though the culmination of the past couple months was simply progressing on its original course.

Another three days passed in a similar manner, but the real surprise had come the following Friday evening when Butch invited her to join him at the diner just as they were closing up shop. She'd looked up from packing her bag, completely dumbfounded, and blurted, "What about... you know, everyone else?"

Butch frowned, clearly not understanding her hesitation. "What about everyone else?"

Jane blushed and looked down at the floor. "Well, to start, there's Wally and Paul –"

"Don't worry about them," Butch said indifferently. "I'm the leader of the gang, and if I say it's cool to hang with nerds, they better be hanging with Freaky Freddie by Monday."

Jane couldn't help but grin at the laughable image he painted. "All right, but then there's your multitude of girlfriends and female admirers: Christie, Susie, and I don't know who else –"

"The Butch-man don't have girlfriends," Butch denied haughtily. When he saw Jane looking at him skeptically, he flushed and added, "All right, fine, I've hooked up with most of 'em, but it's not like I tell 'em I love 'em and kiss 'em goodnight and all that."

Jane raised an eyebrow at him, but decided not to press the subject. "Fine. Lastly, there's my dad. He's been under the impression that I've been spending my time with Amata for the past couple weeks. What is he going to think when he comes to join me and the family for dinner and sees me hanging out with you? Or, if he doesn't stop by, he hears it through the Beatrice and Co. Gossip Network? It's not like we've been the best of friends or anything like that. He's gonna know something's up."

Butch scowled, hating to admit that she had a point. "So what you wanna do? Keep lying to him forever?" he asked.

Jane winced at the thought and shook her head. "Not forever. Just for right now. I still need to figure out what I'm going to do about the whole 'lying to him about my reconciliation with Amata' thing."

"You could tell him the truth," Butch suggested, leaning casually against the wall beside her. "Tell him Little Miss Prissy ain't your friend and you'd rather hang with me."

Jane glared at him. "Friends though we might not be, but I won't stoop to calling her 'Little Miss Prissy'. None of this is her fault, you know. We're just – we're just in different places now."

"And lucky for you, the place you're in happens to include me," he said, his blue eyes teasing her.

Trying not to grin, Jane let out a long, suffering sigh. "Well, when life gives you lemons..."

"Ouch, baby," he said, smirking as he pushed away from the wall and loomed closer to her. "There's no need to be so cruel."

Smiling mischievously up at him, she stood her ground. "I thought that's what being a Tunnel Snake was all about?"

"Oh, so you think you've got the makings of a Tunnel Snake now, huh?" he asked, grinning widely at the thought.

"Well, when you slither with legless lizards –"

Butch cut her off with an unexpected bark of laughter, and, surprised, Jane found herself laughing with him.

"That smart mouth is really going to get you into trouble, y'know," Butch said finally. "But if you won't come with me to the diner, how's about you sneak out with me tonight instead? We could go downstairs and hang where everyone else won't see."

Jane pursed her lips thoughtfully, then said, "I think that would be feasible. What time?"

"Meet me in our usual place at ten," he told her.

"Got it."

Shaking his head, Butch headed for the door and muttered, "Figures. First time I offer a girl a respectable dinner, and she wants to sneak off with me behind her daddy's back."

Jane grinned as she watched him go, then finished packing up her bag and headed home to drop off her backpack. Her thoughts were centered on the evening ahead even as she drifted into the diner thirty minutes later and took her seat beside her grandmother.

"Hello, sweetheart," she heard her father say. "You seem rather cheerful. Did you have a good day?"

Flushing at the realization that her thoughts were so transparent, Jane gave her father a short nod and looked quickly down at her dinner tray. "I did," she said quietly.

Bewildered by his daughter's abrupt change in temperament, James looked from Jane to his mother-in-law, clearly perplexed. The old woman merely smiled and gave a delicate shrug of her shoulder as if to say she was no more in the know than he.

"Did something... good happen?" he pressed gently, watching Jane closely as she studied her processed meatloaf with undue intensity.

"Oh, it was just a good day," Jane said vaguely. She could feel her grandmother's and cousin's eyes on her now, so she forced her eyes up from her dinner tray and elaborated. "I got a lot of work done, and I'm probably gonna go over to Amata's later. Nothing special."

"Well, that's wonderful. It's been days since you've spent time with her," her father said.

"Yeah, well, she's usually quite busy," Jane explained. "Supervisor duties and all, and sometimes she has to take a night-shift. I'm just glad she can make time for me." Jane felt her gut twist even as the lies fell easily from her lips. Wouldn't it just be so much easier to tell them the truth? Why had she lied to them to begin with? What had seemed so harmless weeks ago now made her insides squirm with shame.

"Of course she'd make time for you, honey, you're her best friend," James said encouragingly. "Maybe one of these nights you ought to have her over to our place. Let her know she's still welcome to stop by."

"I'll – I'll do that sometime," Jane stammered, forcing herself to smile. "So what are your plans tonight? More work?"

"Yes, I think Jonas and I are about make a breakthrough on our latest experiment," James said, sounding enthusiastic.

"You really shouldn't work him so hard, James," Lucy Mae said, looking at her elder grandchild fondly. "Poor Jonas works so late he nearly falls asleep in his coffee in the morning."

Jonas coughed into his glass of water, and looking closely at him, Jane could have sworn she'd seen a slight redness through his dark skin.

"I don't keep him as late as all that, Mama," James said, looking curiously at his nephew. "I let him go home hours before I close up."

"Grandma, don't fuss," Jonas said, drying his face with a napkin. "I get plenty of sleep. Some days are just harder to wake up to than others."

He sounded honest enough, but something in the way he didn't meet anyone's eyes made Jane wonder if she wasn't alone in keeping secrets.

"So what you in the mood for?" Butch asked, browsing the rows and rows of liquor bottles stacked on his shelves.

Jane leaned her hip against the pool table and crossed her arms, surveying him thoughtfully. "Straight to the booze, huh?"

"Yeah, how else d'you expect I deal with life down here?" Butch said, as though it should've been obvious.

It was on the tip of Jane's tongue to ask him if that was the same thing his mother said to him whenever she drank, but she refrained. The last time she'd made a comment about his mother's drinking had been at her tenth birthday party, and she doubted his reaction would be all that much better now.

"I'll try the whiskey this time," she said.

Butch, seeming unaware of her silent lapse, pulled down a bottle and two tumblers and filled each of them. Only when the glasses were empty once and refilled did Butch visibly start to relax. Jane watched him roam uncertainly around the space he called his 'home away from home'. He didn't look at her or speak as he slowly drank his way through his second tumbler, and to her he looked like a man who didn't know what to do with himself. Jane had just begun to wonder if his discomfort was caused by her presence when he stopped in front of the old-fashioned jukebox, looking down into the glass case where the vinyl records were lined up, just waiting to be played.

"That things works, doesn't it?" she asked. When Butch nodded, she said, "Play something for me."

"What do you want to hear?" he asked.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't listened to much music. Put on whatever you like," she said.

Butch did as she requested, and a few seconds later the saucy notes of a guitar were playing quietly in the background; she didn't recognize what was being played, but the unfamiliar sound was pleasing to the ear and, as though on cue, her foot began tapping to the rhythm of the music. Butch, however, seemed to not hear it at all and merely stared at the brilliant lights of the jukebox as he drank his whiskey. He'd seemed perfectly fine before dinner, even cheerful as he invited her down here, but now she wasn't certain what was going through his mind.

After enduring his peculiar silence for a full minute, Jane said tentatively, "If you prefer to be alone right now, I could go."

"What?" Butch asked, seeming to snap out of a reverie. "No! No, don't go. I just got lost in my own head for a minute. How 'bout we play a round?" he asked, gesturing with his tumbler at the pool table.

"All right," Jane said, taking another drink before setting down her glass and somewhat unsteadily taking up a pool cue. "I know the rules, but I've never played before, so I'm apologizing early if I suck at it."

Shooting her a crooked smile, Butch stacked the balls in order then grabbed a cue for himself. "It's not so hard. A brain like you should be able to figure it out."

She watched carefully as he lined up his cue with the white ball, then sharply thrust it forward, sending the ball on a collision course with the neatly formed triangle on the other end of the table. The sharp clacking of ball against ball echoed loudly around the room, and Jane counted two striped balls that found their way into different pockets.

"So I'm solid?" she said uncertainly. When Butch nodded, she set her glass down on the ledge of the pool table and studied the layout. When she finally chose a prospective ball, she carefully lined up her shot, resting the shaft between her forefingers just as Butch had to stabilize her aim; already her vision was a becoming blurry, and she had to shake her head to clear it of the whiskey. Inhaling deeply, she tried to thrust her cue forward just as Butch had done. What followed made her drop her cue stick to the floor and cry out in shock: the white ball flew up off the table with the force of a small cannon ball, sailed clear over the solid-red number three and the pocket she was aiming for, and ricocheted off the steel wall near the punching bag. Jane watched it apprehensively as it rolled across the floor back in her direction, but before she could say or do anything, the sound of Butch's loud, masculine laughter permeated the room. Immediately she felt her cheeks start to burn, but she turned to glare at him nonetheless. He was holding onto the corner of the pool table to keep himself upright, and laughing so hard she could have sworn his eyes looked a little watery.

"As amusing as I'm sure you find me, I hardly think it merits this level of mirth," she said primly in an attempt to salvage her dignity.

Still chortling, Butch set down his own glass and retrieved the cue ball, then placed it exactly where it had started. "You hit it too hard," he pointed out unnecessarily. "Line your shot up again."

Jane did as he asked, but almost immediately he was readjusting her grip on the pool cue, bring her hand up it a little further for 'better control'.

"Keep your head straight when you aim," he added, coming up behind her where she was partially bent over the table and wrapping his larger hand around hers. "Now pull back smoothly and slowly, get a good feel for the shot before you make it..." He gently drew her hand back, and then forwards, sliding the cue along the bridge of her fingers so she could get a feel of it. "And remember to relax. Now inhale slowly" – she could hear his voice close to her ear now, and his hand released hers and slid gently up her forearm to rest lightly on her elbow – "and give it a quick jab. That's all it takes."

Concentrating on her target, Jane did as he suggested, and to her delight, the cue ball shot toward her target straight and true, sending the red 3-ball into the correct pocket. Pleased with herself, Jane stood straight up and looked over her should to grin at Butch, but they were so close together that when she turned, her cheek brushed ever so lightly against his. They both froze in place for a moment, as though uncertain what to do, but then Jane felt his hand slide up from her elbow to her shoulder; she opened her mouth to try to say something, not even knowing what she should say, but her voice didn't seem to be working properly. Instead she remained still and silent, like a small animal when faced with a predator, until he finally stepped away and began to line up his next shot as though nothing had happened.

Several minutes later, though her speech was starting to become slurred and her footing was not as steady as it should be, Jane had landed several more of her balls into their designated pockets, and to her relief Butch was becoming his usual cocky self. Taking his improved mood as a good sign, she searched for something to talk about, and immediately a colorful poster she'd noticed before depicting a woman and a ship caught her eye.

"I never took you for a romantic," she said.

"Huh?" Butch raised his head and looked where she was staring, then shrugged and lined up his cue again. "Oh. That. It was the ship, if you must know."

"Ah, so you are a big, bad Tunnel Snake by day, but aspiring Old World sailor by night."

Butch grinned. "Something like that," he said summarily.

"I'll admit, I'd never have guessed you dreamed of spending quality time with forty hairy men... in a space the size of this room... for months on end."

Butch immediateky made a face, and Jane could help laughing.

"Sorry, but it's a female only crew," he said. "Interested in joining? I got a special position in mind just for you." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively, and Jane laughed at his audacity and shook her head. She browsed around the room again, and as her eyes flitted from picture to picture, a repetitive detail jumped out at her... an open field... a dense forest... the ocean... a vast desert... snow-capped mountains... the Sphinx...

"You must have pictures of every corner of the Old World in this room," she mused, gazing at them longingly. "Why is that?"

"It's all the places I'm gonna go," Butch said. "Once I get out of here."

He said it so confidently, as though such a thing were not only possible, but inevitable, as though it were something he was destined for. "You say that as though you definitely leaving," she said, now looking at him curiously. "Like you're just waiting for it to happen."

"Waiting for the right time to make it happen," Butch corrected, taking a deep swig of his whiskey. "If I just sit around waiting for it, doing nothin', I'll be stuck down here forever."

"Aren't you –" She almost said 'scared', but caught herself just in time. "The Overseer is always telling us how reports from Vault-Tec are saying it's dangerous out there."

"Pssh, the Overseer is nothing but a two-faced, power-hungry, senile old tyrant." Jane was taken aback by the venom in his voice, but Butch wasn't finished. "I wouldn't be surprised if there were no reports from Vault-Tec at all. He probably makes it all up. He wants to keep us scared and obedient, and if anyone got it into their heads that there was somewhere else to go, some other way to live, he wouldn't be King of the Vault anymore."

Jane blinked several times, stunned by his outburst, and when she could finally speak, she whispered, "I think you're right."

"You're damn right I –" Butch's eyes snapped up to hers. "You do?"

Jane nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. It would make perfect sense. The Overseer is the only higher authority in the Vault, and you know what they say about absolute power."

"Huh," Butch said, now looking at her thoughtfully as her swirled his tumbler around. "Guess you really are the brain in the Vault."

Jane scowled at him. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Not at all," he said easily. "The last chick I said all that to looked at me like I was losing it. For a minute, I thought I might be."

"That's probably why my dad says not to speak about it to anyone else... they'll think you're crazy, and if it gets back to the Overseer... well, like you said, he wants to keep us obedient."

"Exact – wait," he said, looking at her curiously now. "You're saying the Doc talks to you about the Outside?"

Jane blushed. "Not exactly," she said. "I asked him about it, a long time ago." She hadn't meant to give herself away like that, but her heart beat excitedly at the thought that there might be someone else in the Vault who wanted the same freedom she did. She'd never been able to tell anyone about her desire to escape the Vault; her father had warned her long ago never to speak about such things, but just once, it might be nice to get the words out to someone other than her father, to someone who would listen... who would understand. "I suppose I've always dreamed of going out there. Ever since I was a little girl. Since you – when you told me that your dad had left the Vault, back when we first started school. It was all I could think about. I even asked my dad about – about leaving. He says it can never happen, but even still... I still dream about it. Always."

"So if you want it so badly, what's stopping you?" Butch asked candidly.

"Well, my dad won't hear of it," Jane said angrily, feeling the familiar frustration coursing through her. "Every time I try to talk to him about it, he won't even listen. He keeps telling me that this is home, it's safe here, we're born in the Vault, we die in the Vault, blah, blah, blah... sometimes it makes me want to scream. Why doesn't he get it? Doesn't he realize there can be more to life than... than this?!"

Complete silence followed her outburst, and it was a full minute before Jane realized her fists were clenched at her sides and her heart was pounding. Shaking her head, she struggled to calm herself. "So... what about you? What's stopping you from leaving?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Are you scared of what you'll find out there?"

To her surprise, Butch didn't immediately deny it. Instead he waited, finished off his whiskey, poured himself another, and looked around the room at his collection of posters. "I guess I just don't wanna go off alone, y'know? I'm not scared," he amended quickly, "but I can read a map. It's gonna be a long haul, getting to all the places I want to go, and yeah, there could be anything waiting out there. We gotta be prepared."

"We?" Jane said, teasing him now, and Butch flushed a little, realizing what he'd said.

"Well, yeah. We. I plan on expanding my gang once I get out there, y'know. Move the Tunnel Snakes onto bigger and better things."

"Ah, of course," Jane said. "Then why not take Wally and Paul with you?"

Butch laughed derisively at the suggestion. "Wally's too busy playin' patsy in the Overseer's little security force. Paul would make a good grunt, I guess, but once I'm out there, I think I'll recruit all new members. We'll be the best of the best. No one'll stop us from doing what we want, or goin' where we want."

Jane shook her head at the thought. "Well, at least you have a plan. I'm not sure where I would begin out there. All I have are some vague ideas. Maybe I'll find something to study. Research and stuff. There's got to be doctors and scientists out there, right?" She looked down into her whiskey tumbler. "Assuming I ever actually get out of here, of course."

"If you want something bad enough, nothing can stop you from taking it."

Jane looked at him in surprise, then smiled sadly. "If only my dad believed that. Then I could talk him into leaving. We could both escape this place and live our own lives... free from these walls, free from the Overseer."

"Why don't you just go without him?" Butch suggested, setting down his pool cue now, as though the conversation had taken on a new level of seriousness for him. It was strange to her to see him looking so intense, so serious about anything. "Why don't you get out of here on your own? Live your own life?"

"I – I've honestly never thought about leaving my dad behind," Jane said meekly. "I can't imagine going off and building a new life alone... without him. Without any of my family. And I know if I can convince him, he can convince my cousin and grandmother to join us. If only he would listen to me."

Butch shook his head. "Parents never listen. They always think they know what's best, even when they can't take care of themselves. One day it's gonna come down to what you think is best, and what you want."

"I haven't reached that day yet."

Her tone seemed to end the conversation, and Jane realized it was her turn, so she took another shot, but was so distracted she missed horribly. She watched Butch take his turn, but the silence suddenly seemed uncomfortable, so her mind darted around for something else to say. Remembering his strange silence when they'd first gotten here, she asked, "Was something on your mind earlier? When we first got here, you seemed to be miles away."

Butch shot her a grin, but she noticed it only seemed half-hearted. "It was nothin', baby. Just some stuff going on with my gang."

"Oh," Jane said, suddenly remembering what Butch had done to help her the first night he'd brought her here. "What happened? With Wally and Paul? Were they angry at what you did for me?"

Butch shrugged. "They didn't like it, but I'm the leader, and I'm the one that makes the decisions. If I decided to let you go, they just gotta deal with it."

This didn't quite tally in Jane's mind, and she told him so. "If that's the case, why couldn't you just do that while they were standing there? Why did you need to trick them into leaving if it's simply a matter of you calling the shots, and them going along with it?"

Butch didn't answer as he lined up his next shot, but Jane could see him scowling. "It's because of Wally, isn't it?" she asked bravely.

Butch paused just as he was about to take the shot, and stood to look at her. "What about him?" he asked, and he wasn't smiling now.

"Well..." Jane started, a little flustered now. "It's just that he's not like Paul. Paul would do anything you or Wally tell him to do; he exists to be led around by others. But Wally... he sees himself as the leader, and only follows along when he finds it in his best interests."

"Oh, so now you think you know all about the inner-workings of the Tunnel Snakes, d'you?" Butch asked sharply, glaring at her.

"No, of course not, it's not like I'm one of you or anything," Jane said hastily, not understanding his sudden anger. "But it doesn't take an idiot to see that Wally isn't a follower. He can think and act for himself. And that's why you had to trick him the other night. He wouldn't have just listened to you if you'd told him to leave me alone."

"Yeah? Well, why do you care how I did it? What does it matter so long as you weren't the next in a long line of Gang-Banged Girls?" He hadn't meant to be so crude, but he needed to get off this subject. He wasn't prepared for this, and he didn't want to say something he couldn't take back.

Stunned, Jane took a step backward, the strong image he'd placed in her head nearly forcing the breath out of her. "I guess it only matters because Wally isn't just going accept your tricks and whatever lies you use to cover them up, not the way Paul would. He's not as stupid as he looks. No matter what you tell him to the contrary, he's got to know that something's up, and I doubt you've given him enough reason to just let it drop."

"Look, I've got it taken care of, okay?" Butch said, setting his cue down and stepping closer to her. "You don't have to worry about him bothering you anymore. I told him to leave you alone, and he will."

"And how did you convince him to do that?" Jane asked, stepping out of his reach. "He had to be angry at you. What could you have told him that would convince him to just let it go?"

Butch stopped short, looking down into her wide eyes as his gut suddenly started to churn. How did the conversation even get to this point? He had no intention at all of telling Jane what he'd said to Wally, that he'd promised him and Paul that they could have their fun with her once he'd had his, because as far as he knew, he'd been lying to them. Sure, he'd have to deal with that later, but still, Jane would storm out of here if she even guessed what he'd 'agreed' to. It occurred to him then that if Jane wasn't such a brain, she wouldn't even have come this close to the truth. She would just accept his promises and let it go. But she wasn't like the other girls. She wanted to know, and if didn't want everything he'd accomplished so far to fall apart, he wouldn't be able to walk away from this without giving her something.

"I told them I wasn't sharing," he blurted, wincing as soon as he said the words and hoping against hope she wouldn't slap him and storm away.

Jane stared at him numbly for a moment, but her face slowly became suspicious, until she finally said, "You're not sharing? What do you mean by that?"

"Well," he started, his mind whirling. "I told 'em you weren't like the other girls, that I... kinda dig you," he said; at least that was partially true. "I said I wanted to – y'know – take it slow. So's not to scare you off. And that if they wanted some, that you were off limits and they could go find their own girls." When Jane didn't reply, indeed seemed so stunned that she couldn't even think of what to say, he decided to embellish his story. "I didn't want to say nothin' to you because I thought you'd just shoot me down without even thinking 'bout it. I thought if we spent some time together, if you knew me, maybe you'd at least give it some thought before sayin' no."

Jane remained speechless for several moments, holding her pool cue limply in her hands while she tried to process everything he'd said.

"So you think I'd automatically say no?" she asked.

Butch raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Wouldn't you?" he countered.

Jane was forced to stop and consider that. "Well, I don't really know," she said. "I'm not sure what you're thinking I would be. Your call girl? Or your... your..."

"My best gal?" Butch supplied.

"Well – yeah, that," Jane said. "And how many of those do you have already?"

"None yet," he said frankly.

Jane watched him pensively for another minute, then, without any response, went back to the pool table and made her next shot. Butch watched the ball roll smoothly into a quarter pocket and found himself wondering what she was thinking. Had he said too much too soon? He hadn't meant to say anything until he had more time to win her over, but her incessant questioning had left him at a loss for what to say, and he'd blurted out the first thing he could think of.

When it came for his turn, he took it, more because he didn't know what else to do with himself, and before long he was feeling uncomfortable in a way no girl had ever made him feel. His stomach was squirming as though he'd eaten a radroach or some other disgusting thing, and he became more and more distracted from the game until he began missing even simple shots. When there were only three balls left on the table, two of his and the eight-ball, Jane set her cue aside and took up her whiskey, sipping it tentatively as she stewed in her own thoughts.

"I'm not sure what I should say," she finally said. "We've only just gotten to be friends, and honestly, I've never thought of you as more. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the friends part."

Butch opened his mouth to tell her she didn't need to answer right now, they could just be friends, but instead he blurted, "I think you have."

Jane's head snapped up, and she pinned him with a steely glare. "What are you talking about?"

Mentally kicking himself, Butch wondered why all of a sudden he was babbling on like a total spaz. "What I mean is I'm sure you've thought about it. I have kissed you once already, y'know."

"So what?" Jane asked, scowling.

"You kissed me back," he said simply, with a hint of his usual smugness.

Jane immediately turned a brilliant shade of red and looked down into her tumbler. "That doesn't mean anything. I was just taken by surprise."

"I don't think so," he said, now setting his own cue aside and coming to stand directly in front of her. "You knew what was going to happen. I don't take a girl back somewhere dark and quiet so we can talk."

Jane felt really embarrassed now, and it showed blatantly on her face. When she didn't say anything, Butch gently pried the tumbler from her hands, drained its contents in one swallow, then set it aside and took Jane's chin in one hand and lifted her face to his.

"You know what's going to happen now," he said softly, looking deep into her emerald eyes with a look that had stopped many a girl's heart. "Stop me, if that's what you really want." Then, almost imperceptibly, his lips began their slow descent toward hers; soon they were only inches apart, and Jane was no longer sure of who was closing in on whom. She was too distracted by the depths of his eyes, by the scent of leather and whiskey that had enveloped her, by the sharpness of his features, made even more striking in contrast to the softness of his lips.

"How do you know what I want?" she asked softly; it sounded like a silly question to her own ears, and more like an attempt to delay the inevitable, to give herself more time to come to her senses.

"I can see it," he said softly. "We're more alike than even we know. We both want to be free. We want to take risks." Raising his other hand, he pushed the heavy fall of her jet-black hair away from her face. The gesture was so gentle that Jane felt her stomach do several flips inside her. Butch smiled as though he knew exactly what she was feeling. "We both want to live, to have a little excitement." He said the word in a way that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes continued to bore into hers. "We want experience something more. To forget the rules and live like tomorrow will never come."

His words sent a thrill through Jane, straight down her spine and back again. That was exactly what she wanted! She wanted to escape this place, to find something more, to taste the excitement of life and drink deeply. What Butch was offering was fundamentally different, yet more potent than anything she had ever experienced. It was more intoxicating than any whiskey, and it left her feeling warm all over.

Butch recognized the undisguised longing that surfaced in her eyes. It was as fierce and desperate as his own, and it broke his restraint. He felt something inside him reach out for her, and in a heartbeat, his arms were snaking around her. He lifted her and perched her on the ledge of the pool table. And then he heard it; the softest, sexiest moan he swore he'd ever heard. There was such a starkness about it that conveyed a need as strong as his own, maybe stronger, and he couldn't have stopped himself if his life depended on it. He had intended to go slowly, had wanted her to know how much she wanted a taste of him and everything he stood for so she wouldn't be able to take it back later, but having her this close, hearing that single breathless moan from her lips had overruled his intentions. In an instant their lips were fused together and his tongue was sparring with hers. At first, it was slow and cautious, and he became starkly aware of her inexperience. She learned quickly though, and as it escalated, it became a small battle of wills, each testing the other's weaknesses, but even that quickly dissolved into a fierce embrace. The heat passing between them grew hotter and hotter, and soon they were moving together, pulling each other closer, wanting more.

When Butch felt her slender legs encircle his hips and squeeze tightly, forcing him against the core of her body, his cock instantly hardened in response, filling the restrictive confines of his jumpsuit.

He knew the moment she felt it. She moaned into his mouth, and without even thinking his hips began to grind into hers. Jane broke her lips away from his, gasping as an ache began to build where he was grinding against her. Butch, forgetting all about restraint, allowed his hand to travel up her stomach, her ribs, taking one of her breasts in his palm. It was small, but full, and when he squeezed it gently Jane's head fell back, exposing her slender throat. The ache inside her became almost painful, and without conscious thought, she found her hips moving themselves against his, increasing the sensation. Their combined moans filled the room, but when she felt his fingers tugging on the zipper at he throat, her hand clumsily tried to block his progress.

"Shhh," he soothed, placing gentle kisses along her throat. "Don't get scared on me now, baby."

She hesitated for a moment, but when she felt his teeth gently nip at her skin, the sensation turned her thoughts into a blurry haze, and her hand moved away from his to grab at his shoulder, needing something to hold herself upright.

In second Butch had her zipper down to her waist, and before she could protest he leaned her back against the table and his lips were enclosed around one of her swollen nipples. He moaned when he felt it harden against his tongue, and her fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair as he started to suck.

"Butch... please..." she whimpered mindlessly, her words slurring so that he could barely understand them over the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears. "You shouldn't -"

Her protest ended with a sharp gasp as he pinched her other nipple between the tips of his fingers, then he immediately soothed it with his tongue. Taking his time, he divided his attention between each plump breast, moaning as he felt her writhing beneath him. When her moans became cries, and her hands started tugging him away from her, rather than pulling him closer, he obliged her, trailing his mouth down her ribs, then her belly, where he amused himself teasing her small navel with the tip of his tongue.

Jane yelped in surprise at the stab of pleasure that shot straight through her, causing the ache inside her to throb almost painfully. She could hardly form a coherent thought, and though she didn't want him to stop what he was doing to her, another voice inside her was warning her that this wasn't right, that she should be more aware, more in control.

"Butch, stop," she whimpered, her hands trying to push him away. "Wait. This is too fast."

"More like not fast enough," he said, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. "Too many clothes," he hissed, already fumbling with the zipper that attached the top half of her jumpsuit to the bottom half.

"No, stop!" she cried, weakly grabbing his wrists in an attempt to stop him.

Through the lust and alcohol, her word barely registered in his mind, but when they did, it took all his self control to he step away, until there were several feet between them.

Jane gasped when he abruptly left her, and the cold of the Vault surrounded her once more. Even as she hated how pathetic the sound was, another voice inside her was urging her to pull him back to her. She stubbornly ignored it, and soon a slew of raging emotions completely drowned it out. Embarrassment was among them, and regret. Not for what had happened, but for coming to her senses and putting a stop to it. Then reason kicked in. What else was she going to do? Let him carry on until... until...

Not even a full minute had passed before she sat up off the table and pulled her eyes up to his. He was still breathing harshly as he watched her, desire still stark on his face, and she at least felt some pride in knowing he had been just as affected as she. Her eyes moved downward of their own accord, to the place where she had felt a hard bulge pressing so insistently against her; it was plainly visible, and even as she watched, she saw it jump beneath the fabric of his jumpsuit.

"Keep looking at me like that, and you're gonna get to see a real Tunnel Snake."

His voice sounded harsh and strained, and she looked back up into his eyes even as a blush stained her cheeks. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to – I..." She stuttered on for a moment, but when she couldn't complete a sentence, she gave up, feeling even more humiliated.

Butch felt his temper flare up at her words, hating that she was apologizing when it would do nothing to help his current condition. "And for fuck's sake, if you want me to stop, you could at least cover those."

If possible, she blushed even harder when she realized her jumpsuit was still open, and she was sitting there with her breasts exposed. Quickly her hands jumped to her zipper and started pulling it back up.

"Sorry... sorry -"

His anger flared again. "Sorry for what?" he almost growled. "For stopping when we both wanted it?"

Jane blushed furiously, her words tripping over themselves. "No, Butch - I - I don't -"

"Don't what?" he snapped. "Trying to tell me now you didn't want it? Nice try, baby, but I know when a girl wants it, and you want it bad."

"No! That's not what I - I didn't -"

"Then what was that?" He was glaring furiously at her now. "Was that just pretend? Practice for the real thing?"

Jane stared at him, baffled for a moment. "I don't know what that was," she said quietly. "I don't know if that was real, or if it even meant anything." She looked earnestly into his eyes. "Did it mean anything?"

The question surprised him, momentarily displacing his anger. Butch wasn't used to being put on the spot, and this was the second time Jane had done so tonight. No girl had ever asked him that kind of question. They usually made their own assumptions about his feelings for them, and he found it convenient to let them keep their deluded ideas. But here stood Jane, looking up at him with wide eyes, and actually asking him if that kiss had meant anything.

He could lie to her. He could make her believe him. He could lure her into his arms again, and from there, take her to a place where she would no longer care what anything meant, where all she knew was the feeling of their bodies touching everywhere. And it was tempting. So tempting. His inner-Tunnel Snake was urging him to go for it. His need for relief almost drove him to do it. It would be so easy, and he would be able to have her again and again, once she knew just how good it could be. And he knew a part of her wanted him to do it. She wanted to explore what they had started, wanted to feel alive and throw caution to the wind. He had been right to say they were alike, more so than either of them knew; they burned with the same fire, shared the same needs. And they were completely alone, with no chance at all of someone coming along to interrupt them. He could take all the time he wanted to show her exactly how much she wanted it.

But in spite of all that, he already knew he wouldn't do it. And he knew why: Jane trusted him. For some reason, that minute fact changed everything. It was stupid and didn't make any sense to him, but regardless he knew he would tell her the truth. If any girl in his life deserved the truth, it was Jane.

Shaking his head regretfully, he took a calming breath, moved closer to her, and took her shoulders in his hands. "That was us. But there is no meaning to it. There is no meaning to anything, and I'm not looking to find any. But it was real, and we both know it. Why does it need to mean anything at all?"

Jane went quiet for a moment, then said, "You're right." When Butch looked surprised, she elaborated. "Nothing I've ever done has had any meaning. Everything I've learned, it doesn't amount to anything, and probably never will. Not as along as I am trapped in this place." She went quiet for a moment, but when she next spoke, her voice possessed a stark conviction. "But my parents found meaning. Even inside this Vault, they found meaning in each other. It's a slim chance that I'll ever find that for myself, but it's all I have to hope for. And I'm not quite ready to give up on that hope."

That said, Jane smiled sadly, shrugged his hands off her, and turned to leave.

Butch made no attempt to call her back.