It took almost three weeks for the pair to reach the East Haven Shopping Center. Collapsed tunnels forced them to travel spurts on the surface, then radiation levels, blockades, or over-powering enemies forced the two back underground. Just as they would make some headway, the pair would run into a dead end and have to backtrack almost all the way they had come.

After a week of this, Ely circled around down by Rivet City and tried going north. Two days into this route, the girl took an unlucky bullet to the stomach – digging the pair in an abandoned apartment for a few days of recovery.

It wasn't until Olive came back that they made any headway. Unlike Ely, this persona seemed to know the city like the back of her hand. The new Pip-Boy – which the girl was ecstatic about – filled in the few gaps in her memory or let her know when dangers might be in the area.

"You got this from the Vault Kid, huh?"

Charon grunted an affirmative and kept scanning the tunnel behind them for traps or enemies. All that stood before them was a steel gate. They had stopped for a short rest before ascending into the East Haven Shopping Center. Food and drink now could save their lives if they got surrounded by some raiders. Olive also took the time to become further acquainted with her new wrist toy.

"He kept very meticulous notes on places and people. Listen to this: 'Jenny Stahl: Female. Megaton. Employment: Food/bar. Notes: A great lay – even when she's knocked out. Just have to bring her home, pop her a shot of whiskey, and out she goes. Doesn't remember a thing.' I'm really glad you shot him, Charon. I always hated this kid."

The ghoul glanced down at his employer. Just a week ago, he had pushed her body against a wall and – much to her alter persona's delight – ravished her. Olive met his steady gaze and grinned. The way her eyes sparkled as she smiled – lit by the dull light – made the ancient ghoul's heart jump. She was stunning when she smiled like that. No worries. No fears. In that single smile, the world seemed wonderful.

Charon broke eye-contact first, looking away with an inaudible sigh. If his employer's two personalities would merge Olive's lovely demeanor with Ely's sex craze...

But things didn't work that way. Olive would never go for a ghoul. Or would she?

"What's your opinion of having sex with a ghoul?"

Olive's body shot straight up like a pole and she stared at her bodyguard. No longer smiling, a look of absolute horror crawled across her face. "W-what?"

Charon shrugged, trying his best to act as uninterested and detached from the conversation as possible. He'd had a lot of practice in the past, so this was a cakewalk. "I just know how Ely gets around men. She can't keep her hands off them. I also know that some places – like Underworld – have a high ghoul population. You dislike ghouls so–"

"I like you."

The response caught the man off guard and he floundered for a moment.

"You're my friend," Olive mumbled, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging them, rocking back and forth slowly. "It's been a long time since I've had someone I could rely on, like yourself."

"But my point is you wouldn't want to have sex with me – or any other ghoul – would you?"

The girl hung her head. "To be honest, I don't think I ever could. I don't mean to be bigoted or racist or whatever – it's just...I don't think I could bring myself to do it. What if that's all it takes to make me into one of you?"

Shoving the previous sex conversation on the back burner, Charon decided to quickly nip this train of thought in the butt. "Ghouls aren't contagious. You can't become a ghoul by hanging out with one."

"Don't be silly! I know that!" Olive giggled slightly at the outrageousness of the thought, before quickly sobering. "You can't tell anyone. In fact, I order you to always keep your mouth shut about this – even to any future employers you may get."

"That can be arranged."

She motioned for him to sit next to her on the crumbling rubble. As he did, Olive turned to face him, breathing out slowly and rubbing her face. Was this the right thing to do? Would he consider her a freak? The girl took in his ghoulish features. No. Charon wouldn't be that cruel. "I've never actually told anyone this, Charon, but I'm a ghoul."

Charon stared at his employer with hooded eyes. He was expecting some humor but actually found none of this funny. Yeah, she was crazy, but now the ghoul had a new level to crazy to add to the list. This beautiful Smoothskin before him thought she was a ghoul. How fucked up is that?

"You're not a ghoul, kid."

"I was born in 2061."

The ghoul rolled his eyes and fluffed his employer's pixie hair – earning a small glare. "Look, you're just a little off your rocker. That doesn't make you a ghoul."

Olive looked as though she was about to reply, but snapped her mouth shut instead. If the ghoul didn't believe her, she wasn't going to press the issue. "Anyway, why the question about ghoul sex?"

"If Ely looks like she's about to start doing the dirty with an unknown ghoulie, do you want to have a standing order for me to stop her?"

Olive began nodding, but froze in mid nod, her face cringing in phantom pain. "If you try to make Ely not do something, she will either kill you and do it, or just ignore you and do it more. You can't stop her, so how about..." the body shiver vibrated the Pip-Boy's light across the tunnel, "how about just don't mention it? Out of sight – out of mind?"

"I can do that."

"Yes. Wonderful," Olive stood up, patting her pants free of lingering dust. "How about we get moving before this conversation gets any more uncomfortable?"

Charon shouldered his bag – rolling his arm to shift the new weight into a more fitting position. He had recently taking to carrying more of their gear, thus leaving the smaller and more agile girl to her skills.

"I'll go up first," the girl was mumbling as she silently wedged part of the tunnel gate open. "I'm a lot smaller than you, so I'll be able to scout the area without being spotted as easily. If something does come after me, I'll come shooting through this hole, so you stay put with guns ready."

Trusting in his employer's abilities, Charon nodded, cocking his gun in a sign of agreement.

"'Gran-Gran's Musical Wonder House'." Charon glared at the overly cheery store sign that still hung above their destination. Though in great disrepair, the violin-shaped object was still readable and small flecks of paint clung to the metal surface. "That's a horrible name for a store. Too damn long."

Olive ignored the ghoul and studied the familiar store front. Unlike the pharmacy next door, this building looked largely untouched by raiders and time. The front glass had been broken, but the sliding metal security doors were still latched down. The girl surmised that a musical store would be pointless to raiders in today's time and had been ignored.

As for those raiders – none could be found. The entire plaza was empty. No living sign of the anarchistic pain in the asses was anywhere to be found. A few highly rotted raider bodies were stumbled upon and this led the girl into believing that it had been months since raiders lived here last. Charon and Olive had checked every available building, and the lack of food, firearms, and medical supplies brought up a simple conclusion: the raiders had hopped ship.

What had once been a paradise of unpilfered goods had finally run out and due to being so far from any town or trade route, the entire little settlement had collapsed in on itself.

"So any plans on getting inside?"

Olive glanced over at her ghoul. He was poking the metal security doors with his shotgun and grunting unhappily. She knew he had been expecting a big gunfight with lots of hooting and hollering. Since getting no form of welcoming committee, Charon felt useless and bored. "I doubt I'm strong enough to do it, Charon, so why don't you get the crowbar from the bag and try to pry a part of the security door up? If we can make a spot big enough for me to slip through, I might be able to open it on the other side."

"No," Charon examined the lower portion of the door – where it latched into the floor. "There could be enemies in there. Let's blow it open with some C4."

"You're not blowing up Gram's shop."

The downright calm and deadly tone in the girl's voice made the ancient ghoul pause. With a glance, he met eyes akin to Ely's – only Olive was the one behind them. They were calculating eyes that bore into every crevice of his body and read his every move long before he ever thought of making it. The girl was more similar to her counterpart than she realized.

"As you wish." Charon let his bag drop to the dirt before pulling the crowbar free from its position. From his inspection, the ghoul had located a small part where the metal latch had become damaged – resulting in a half inch gap between the door and the floor. He slammed the crowbar into the small slot and when it found its mark and slid in, Charon forced his body weight on the free end of the tool.

Whether from age, improper handling, or Charon's brute strength, a loud snap echoed through the shopping center and the security door rolled partway up.

"What happened?" Charon whispered, now a few feet away from the dark void – shotgun at the ready.

Olive smiled at the ghoul before lighting up a lantern and setting it at the base of the security door. "You just broke the locking latch. Got lucky, I suppose. Found the perfect spot to hit. Without that lever, this metal sheeting won't stay down." Ducking under the door, she disappeared inside, calling back, "The Pip-Boy doesn't spot anything in here, so we should be okay."

"Fucking Smoothskin," Charon grumbled, snatching up the discarded bag and crowbar before following the girl inside. To the ghoul's surprise, unlike every other pre-bomb building he had been in, this one was clean and organized. Things were still on the shelves, pictures were righted, papers were stacked, light bulbs in their sockets – if it wasn't for the layer of dust on everything, Charon half expected someone to stumble out of the back room to give them music lessons.

The room was set up simply – divided into different music sections. Pianos dominated the middle floor and in the back corner an old drummer's set sat quietly. Woodwind instruments hung on the walls – all situated lightly in their easy-to-pick-up holders. One wall was dedicated to books of all sorts. How-To guides, music books, cleaning guides, instrument tutorials, biographies on ancient musicians – the list went on and on.

Olive stood at the front of the store, near the destroyed front window. To her left was a small piano and to her right a checkout counter. She lit up another lantern before setting it on the counter top and beginning to go through the register and the drawers.

The only possible exits to the room were the way the pair came in, or through a locked metal door against the back wall. Having found no threats in the current room, Charon like-wise lit a lantern and wandered around. This was the first time in his life he had ever been in a store like this. The ghoul had always wanted to play musical instruments, but had no means to acquire one. "Olive?"

The girl looked up from her search at the register. "Yes, Charon?"

"Do you know how to play any of these?" He made a broad gesture to indicate the entire store. "Or do you know anyone that does? Is music a lost art?"

The way she softly smiled at his words made Charon's ancient heart melt. "There are still some people out there that know. And yes, I know how to play every instrument in the building. I may be a bit rusty, but it's like riding a bike – you never forget."

"Could you...teach me something?"

For a long moment, Olive didn't reply. Instead she stared at the front desk tabletop in deep concentration. Fearing rejection to his offer, Charon remained silent – not even allowing breath to seep across his lips.

Finally, she responded, "We'll have to see what's survived this long. It's been...well...forever. Most instruments don't last long if they're not properly taken care of. The best instruments are in the vault in back. Grams should have put most of them in there."

The girl wiped her eyes and Charon realized she had begun to cry. Uncertain how to remedy the situation, the ghoul did what he always did when an employer became upset – blend in with the surroundings. A few strides of his long legs led him to the woodwinds and he casually plucked a flute from its holder and pretended to be highly interested in still-working buttons.

How did someone play this? Charon rotated the instrument in his hands. One end was capped, while the other was open. A small oval notch was along the side by the capped end. Much like a gun barrel, he cautiously peered down the tube – finding it clear of all debris but dust. He examined the oval opening again while glancing at a nearby faded image of a boy playing the instrument. The lips go there, huh?

Charon followed the picture's guide and held the instrument horizontal to his right. Lightly tapping a few of the buttons and leavers made him exceptionally pleased with the feel, yet also horrified that he was going to break it. The ghoul took a deep breath and covered the oval opening with his lips before blowing as hard as he could.

A hollow-blowing-air-through-a-tube sound emitted and a huge puff of dust shot out the back of the instrument.

Olive burst into laughter and Charon quickly put the item back. Flute was not going to be on his list of instruments.

"Charon, sweetie, why don't you come up here and give me a hand jimmying a lock?" Olive called once her laughter had subsided. "I accidentally broke the tip of the booby-pin off inside it."

The ghoul obliged and joined his employer at the checkout. She had nimble, lock picking fingers, but some locks just needed brute force to get them open. Age often rusted the mechanisms. The lock in question was a simple, small one that held a large panel shut on the leg-level area of the checkout counter.

Taking her screwdriver, he shoved it in the lock and gave it a savage twist to the right. Metal squealed and twisted, tearing apart inside the workings. Using the crowbar, Charon forced the metal cabinet door open the rest of the way. Books were neatly stacked inside the now-open compartment and a few sets of keys dangled on metal hooks.

Olive seemed delighted at the find and began to dig them out. "Store journals," the girl mumbled to herself. "Grams was very good at keeping records of things."

While his employer skimmed through some of the later journal entries, Charon ran a finger across the counter top. The amount of dust that had collected was simply amazing – and to go for so long without being disturbed. Amused by the amount gathered on his finger, the ghoul blew it away with a deep breath. Much like the flute, the dust poofed outward in a cloud.

"Heh," he chuckled – this time wiping up some dust with the palm of his hand. Instead of blowing this dust off, Charon noticed something under the counter's plastic top. He wiped more dust away and brought a lantern closer. What he saw were pictures. Pictures of old times with happy faces. Men, women, children, young, and old all decorated the counter area. They had somehow been slipped beneath the plastic topping and survived these many years. The most common image was one of an elderly woman with short, perfectly white hair. She sat with children at pianos, playing clarinets with two adults, and holding awards with an excited young man. Some pictures were just of individuals in the shop – holding instruments, trying them out, and otherwise having fun. Other pictures were of school graduates and their instruments or an entire orchestra with a face or two circled.

The ghoul smiled as he gazed at the images. This had been a happy place and he was glad raiders had not pillaged it. Many people had come here for joy and companionship. Before they left, he would find a way to make sure the security door locked tight. Olive would probably like that as well.

Olive?

Charon's gaze shot to a picture of the elderly woman and a young girl sitting at a piano. Side by side, the two females bore a striking family resemblance – albeit one old and one young. The young girl – maybe ten years old – was thin, small, with dark eyes and long brown hair. At first Charon didn't recognize the face he knew so well, but the smile the girl bore was not one he could easily forget.

"Olive!"

The girl's head popped up from behind the counter. "Huh? Yeah, what's up?"

Jabbing a finger at the picture, the ghoul said simply, "That's you."

She glanced at the image and nodded. "Grams took that not long after she started teaching me piano. I'd mastered Mary Had A Little Lamb and she thought it was great."

"But how can that be you?" Charon stared hard at his employer – feeling as though his lungs weren't working right. "These are old pictures. Very, very old pictures and no one has been in here for a long, long time!" Was he talking fast? Charon felt like he was talking fast.

"I already told you. I'm a lot older than I look. I knew this store was here because for almost ten years I came here every day after school. Grams babysat me."

She couldn't be telling the truth, Charon thought. There was no way his employer was close to his age! But the picture...

"Tell me everything," Charon said quietly, no longer finding enjoyment in the store. "I want to know who – or what – you are. I want to know where you're from, and I want to know how your picture could be in a two-hundred year old building."

Olive had also sombered. "Let's lock the building down first. We can stay here for the night. I'd also like to finish checking through the rest of the rooms. According to these journals, Grams had plans to stay here if the bombs fell – in the back vault."

"Once we're secure, I expect an explanation."

"You'll get one, Charon. I promise. Until then..." Olive showed the ghoul a set of keys from the cabinet and tossed him the spare. "Let's see what's in the vault."