OK, I thought about it, and the chapter I had written beforehand will now be a two parter. Why? Because it took me a long time to get the full chapter done before I deleted it (genius). So, I figure I'll give you guys time to read the first half while I start writing the second half, hope you guys don't mind.

Also, fun fact, I'm a die hard Weezer fan. All the chapter's names so far in their Word documents have been Weezer songs, but I always changed them at the last minute, well, except for Pinkerton but that doesn't really count. So, I figure I'd just use In The Garage for this one since it's the first time it's actually been relevant.

See you soon people :-)

I turn my head and look out at the desolate landscape around us. The entire horizon is a vast collection of hills and sudden dips, with the occasional crater from some kind of explosion, old or recent. A scorched, cracked highway trails along my line of sight and runs along to the faint spots in the distance that is Downtown DC, the hot zone that none of us want anything to do with.

My toes curl up and hit the worn rubber of the black Converse shoes Amata had managed to snag me for Christmas this year, probably the most comfortable shoes to get around in, even if they do have holes in them and the rubber is almost all gone and people can see a bit of the metal of my right foot. My fingers fiddle subconsciously with the cards in my hand and I focus, looking for any sudden movements of figures around us.

"I'll raise," Amata sighs, dropping a worn out cap onto the ground between us.
I look down at the chip for a second and smirk, "You seriously want me to take the bait?"
She smiles up at me and shrugs, biting her bottom lip and nodding at my stack of chips, "Your move Daniels."
I look at her, not breaking eye contact with a smug grin on my face. She's wearing one of my BoS shirts, a clear violation in the rules but nobody who's seen her wear any of my uniform really seems to mind.

Amata and I had to unfortunately spend Christmas and now the first week of 2079 on several supply and civilian transport runs. Well, Amata didn't have to go, but she claimed that her accompanying me would be a Christmas present, and a decent one at that. Her words, not mine. She can be annoying at times, but she's my girl, and it's been nice to travel around to different towns together, as weird as that sounds. What has been a pain; however, are the people with us.

Every year at Christmas, all the Downtown DC based BoS personnel invite their families to spend Christmas in the safety of the Citadel, the BoS' main base and arguably to safest place in Washington DC. Because of this, Amata and I, along with a dozen other BoS soldiers, have been charging around the past few weeks picking up families and dropping them off to the Citadel. And what an exhausting experience that has been. I never thought I would see a fat person again until I rolled up to the towns these families lived in. Big, large mounds of fat lumber along, wives and children waddling with us, begging for rests under the beating hot sun after 30 minutes of walking.

They whine for more food, for better cooked food at that. They demand their children be given more blankets, even if it means that some of us have to go without for the night. They chew down medicine as well and guzzle down water, tossing away valuable canteens and boys rudely belching and talking while someone is announcing the day's itinerary. Oh and how they love to perve on Amata. Overweight and hormone fuelled teenaged boys practically drool over her as she walks beside me in a tank top. The poor boys, they probably haven't seen a woman under 100 kilos in their lives; and a 50 kilo, bronze skinned Amata drives them absolutely wild, though the same kind of goes for me. The looks of complete contempt I get from them when they see her kiss me at dinner is absolutely priceless. I guess I'm not as good looking as she is I guess.

At night, I crawl into the tent, filthy and exhausted from a long day of either working on setting up the camp and breaking up fights from soldiers and pushy kids. I collapse into a warm cocoon of blankets and try to keep myself warm. I can hear the husbands and their wives, the rustling of fabric. The noise… it's… nightmarish. I'm far too tired to bother yelling. I lie, spooning Amata, almost always falling asleep in less than three minutes. I wake up, and start the day all over again.

The moments like these in this little watch tower, us being together, by ourselves. There are no people banging down on our door, no sound of people arguing or guns being fired, no Dogmeat drooling and constantly licking our hands in search for food. It's a shame we spend it on watch duty or playing poker on the wooden platform that belongs to a Pre-war watch tower 100 metres from out camp.

"OK, I'll bite," I take the cigarette out of my mouth and drop two chips down on the mouldy wood below us.
"How many cigarettes is that today?" she frowns as she drops another chip into the pot.
"Only one, don't worry," I lie, flicking some ash onto the wood, "I stand."
Amata and I have spent the past three hours playing poker, and it's pretty much the worst thing I could ever have suggested for our relationship. See, I tend to lie… a lot, whenever I'm in trouble with Amata for something. Hell, I'm 99% sure she knows this isn't my first cigarette for today, even though I only smoke on watch so I'm calmer. When you play poker with someone, you start to discover their "tells", what they do when they're lying and when to call them out on it. Amata doesn't normally lie, and she sucks at it. What she is good at however, is finding out when I'm lying. So, I make up fake tells to throw her off course, even if it means deliberately losing a few hands.

"Fuck," I groan as she shows her two queens.
"Lemmie see what you had," she chuckles when I reach for her cards to shuffle the filthy, grimy and sticky pack. I ignore her and slip her cards into the deck. Before I can move, she grabs my cards and rips them away from my reach.
"I didn't know a pair of queens beat a full house," she chuckles, holding up my cards.
I smile uneasily and Amata casually slips the cards back into the deck and into the small leather pouch, "I think I've taken enough of your money."
"You started out with my money!" I say objectively, shuffling back so I lean against the wooden bannister, being careful that the wood doesn't snap off against my weight. I pull my rifle within easy reach and smile when Amata sits down beside me and pecks my lips.

Within minutes, Amata's head is rested snugly against my lap, looking up at the late afternoon skyline, with dots of starts starting to appear. I find myself looking up at it too, though not without occasionally looking around, that uneasy feeling still present whenever I stand watch, with or without Amata being with me. The need to protect her makes the need to be vigilant stronger, of course; but I still have a sick feeling I could be shot by a raider sniper at any second.

"Love you," she smiles, touching my cheek and smiling up at me.
"Hmm," I snap out of my trance and look down at her for a quick second, "What's wrong?"
"I love you," she giggles, stroking my cheek with her thumb, "you're cute when you drift off like that."
I chuckle and peck her lips, "Love you too."
"Will you keep your eyes off the surroundings for two seconds?" she chuckles.
"My CO will have my ass if I let something slip by," I mumble as she pulls me down to her and kisses me.
"Hey!" she scolds when I keep my eyes opens.
"I'm doing my job!" I laugh incredulously as I wrap my arms around her, "you aren't even supposed to be up here."
"I know. I'm sorry, I'll be quiet." She pouts, going back to resting in my lap.
"Please don't fall asleep," I sigh, rubbing her scalp with my fingertips.
"If you keep doing that I won't be able to stay awake," she murmurs, almost purring when I tickle under her chin.
I look to my left and smile, "The sun's beautiful this time of day."
"Yeah," she smiles and nuzzles into my left kneecap and pulls a blanket over her that she brought when she came to join me. It's been getting colder during the nights.
"I told you not to fall asleep," I chuckle.
She doesn't respond and I move my leg so she can rest easier. Eventually, her breathing slows down and her mouth eventually opens a bit.

I shake my head and look at my Pip-boy, one hour until my shift finishes, and she falls asleep.
"I don't think that… I ever could have imagined us… doing this," I sigh, stroking her cheek lightly, "I mean… fuck. I never imagined spending New Year's shivering in a sleeping bag with you in my arms, in some desolate little camp in the middle of nowhere. We're a little family, you, me and Dogmeat. We'll make it, I know we will. There's a little place somewhere in the world, completely safe, for us. I would never have to fire a gun again, we would never have to wear a bandage or get a single stitch ever again."
I lean against the old wooden bannister and put a hand on Amata's stomach, before I go back to watching my surroundings.

The alarm on my Pip-boy starts to beep and I quickly shut it off to avoid freaking Amata out. I look down and brush a strand of hair off her face and smile down at her.
"Daniels," Washington grunts, suddenly appearing at the top of the ladder, "You done being all cute and sentimental?"
"Fuck off Washington," I mutter.
"Come on, get some dinner and get some rest, you've earned it."
"Really?"

"No, of course you didn't. If sitting on my ass and playing poker was what you needed to do to get a promotion I'd be an Elder by now."
"Hey," I gently touch Amata's cheek.
She stirs to life and shivers from the increasing cold.
"Wake up sleeping beauty," Washington chuckles.
"Winter…" she groans.
"I know," I help her up and she drowsily wraps her arms around me.
"Aw well isn't this cute?" Washington laughs.
"Goodnight Washington."
"Goodnight Daniels."

"Down we go," I smile. Amata rubs her eyes and she limply drops down from the ladder. She covers her sleepy brown eyes and stumbles toward me, mumbling to herself.
"Come on beautiful," I laugh, turning around and allowing her to hop onto my back.
"You're comfy." She murmurs, wrapping her legs around my stomach, her arms lightly around my neck and resting her head against the back of our tent.
"Thanks… I think…"

"Wake up," I sigh, walking toward our tent.
I dump her into the tent and she immediately curls up into our sleeping bag.
"Why are you so tired all of a sudden?" I smile, lying beside her and slipping an arm around her waist.
"I've had to baby sit kids all day," she murmurs, cuddling up to me. Her skin's warm and soon we're lying in a nice, little cocoon of warmth from our body heat. Amata is long asleep, but I hear some rustling around in the tents. It's usually someone going out to get a drink or something.
I see some light flashing outside my tent and I reach for my revolver.
The tent flap zips up and a woman in her 30's sticks her head in the tent.
"Whoa! You've got the wrong tent!" I gasp.
"I need another blanket, my son's developing a cold."
"We're cold," I protest quietly.
"Please," she whispers, seeing Amata still asleep and reaching in, grabbing the end of the blanket firmly.
"Don't even think about it," I say firmly, sitting up, "Leave, please."

…

I yawn and smile, rolling over and resting my hand against Amata's stomach.
"Hey," she smiles, stroking my hair, "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."
I groan and rub my eyes, "What time is it?"
"Around 5 in the morning." she kisses my lips good morning and hugs me.
"I don't want to get up," I grumble, sitting up and pulling on a shirt.
"We really don't have to," she grins, pulling me down and straddling my waist.
"Whoa!" I gasp, grinning, "What is up with you?"
"I love you," she smiles, pulling off my shirt.
"Don't," I giggle as she kisses my neck, "I only have to so much as sneeze and the entire camp can hear me."
"You talk big for someone who can't keep her hands off me," she purrs as I trace my fingers up and down her bronze sides. I withdraw my hands and she bends down and softly kisses me.
"Daniels! Get your ass out here!" Washington yells. Amata jumps and I shrug up at her.
"I'll see you at lunch OK? I've got baby-sitting duty. Though we should be moving at some point today, I think."

…

"What's going on?" I frown, sliding on a jacket.
"A civvie is pissed off at you and's stirring up some shit."
"Are you being serious right now?"
"Yeah," he sighs, "CO said over the radio that you need to be on watch while we're packing up camp."
"That's bullshit. It was fucking freezing last night and we only had one blanket!"
"I know, kid." He sighs, "The trick is not to piss on the fire."
I really hate Washington's shitty and confusing metaphors.
"We would have almost frozen last night," I snarl, grabbing my rifle and slinging it over my shoulder, "Fucking spoon-fed pricks."
"I know. Just, be calm. OK? Last thing I need is for my buddy to be suspended and I have to stay watch with a prick who can't take a drink and can't shoot for shit."
"I'll be on watch," I sigh bitterly.

I groan and lean against the wall of the watch tower, tipping the front of my hat to cover my eyes from the blazing sun. I stick and wriggle my finger through one of the holes in my jeans, scratching at my leg while I do so. Ah well… at least now I can have some peace and quiet. Some time to myself actually might be good…

…

"Winter?"
I jolt my eyes open and look around. Shit, did I really just fall asleep during watch?

"Hey," I smile, rubbing my eyes and watching Amata climb up to the ladder.
She grabs the front of my shirt and kisses me deeply.
"Mph…!" I gasp.
"You didn't do a thing to deserve this." she growls through her teeth, almost literally ripping my shirt off.
"What are you doing?" I gasp, calling Amata's bluff that the furthest she'll get is me without a shirt on, but I jolt in surprise when she attacks my belt.
"I haven't had you in almost two weeks, because of these ungrateful pricks," she scowls and rips my belt off, "bitch walks up to me demanding some respect… I'm amazed I didn't beat the shit out of her."
"Amata, come on honey don't take this out on me," I laugh, holding up my hands defensively as she pulls off her shirt.
"Don't be a fucking smartass," she growls, "I'm sick of them yelling at me for giving their kids some food without their consent, I'm sick of them complaining about everything and basically telling us to go fuck ourselves. I want you. You are the only thing that's keeping me from going insane right now."
My head bangs against the wood of the post and she straddles my waist.
"You need to calm down a little," I chuckle.
"Shut up, you smartass," she growls.

…

"Fucking hell…" I tilt my head back, groaning and looking at her, "What the hell… got into you?"
"Was there a problem?" she smiles, kissing me lazily as she lies half on top of me.
"No…" I frown, sitting up a combing a hand through my hair, "Just… unexpected."
She chuckles and rests her head on my shoulder, "I love you."
"What is your brain running on today?!" I laugh, "Two minutes ago, you're an insane maniac, the next you're all cuddly and lovey."
"Well I'm calm now; I got this out of my system."
I pull on my uniform and she lies beside me, still naked and not the least bit uncomfortable about it.
I sit up and rub my eyes, my arms feeling numb and my leg still asleep.
"No, please," I laugh as she lies once again on top of a blanket, "Make yourself comfortable."
"Shut up and let me sleep." She smiles, closing her eyes, "The people humping in the tents around us and you talking in your sleep woke me up a few times."
"You were out of it the last time I checked." I laugh.
"Yes, but I stirred when I heard you say 'Extra sauce with my foot please."
"You lie." I shake my head, before glancing to the right, "Ah… crap."

If I honestly had to decide what my favourite thing to at 6:30 in the morning was, shooting raiders wouldn't be one of them.
"Stay out of sight," I whisper to Amata, poking out of the wooden barrier and looking through my scope.
"Honey, what's going on?" Amata murmurs. Fuck… Amata doesn't know how to shoot for shit, and she's a sitting duck up here if people see her.
"Stay down Amata, I don't want them to see you."

I suppose having a stationary camp isn't the wisest move for BoS civilians. Raiders tend to swarm the place if they feel stupid enough to stand off against a dozen highly trained personnel. I spent most of my afternoons outside the Springvale base with a few other recruits around my age. I've lost count of how many airborne tin cans that I've shot in the past six months with a rifle and revolver, but now it's more than worth it.

I fire a warning shot, my bullet skimming along the dirt in front of one of the raiders. Sometimes, some of them stumble along the camp, and some are smart enough to turn around and calmly walk away. Most of them, however, see supplies, food, water, and women. This band of 20+ raiders, however, most carrying revolvers, take one look at our little camp, and lick their lips. My warning shot alerts the entire camp, and the BoS get to work. They take up positions, the soldiers setting up and the civilians being escorted away into the relative safety of the med bay tent.
"Amata, listen to me!" I yell as I fire at one male raider who's carrying an assault rifle, "Get dressed!"
"Don't get shot, for fuck's sake!" she yells as the fire fight begins.

Raiders are stupid groups, it's simple. They take comfort in their numbers, and act cocky while under some kind of drugs I haven't tried yet. They grin as they see they have an advantage, and start to fire their guns at the BoS. Their "weapons", are pieces of metal that jam easily. They have quarter filled clips dangling off their hips in clumsy bandoliers. However, the BoS aren't the only ones who are stupid. A recruit, around 18 or 19, shouts about taking a flanking position.

He charges around them and into the open, firing from the hip and spraying bullets anywhere but on the raiders. It seemed almost too easy for somebody to hit him, he was just sitting there. A bullet carves into the young man's arm and into his stomach. He wails in agony and hits the dirt, rolling around in the dirt.
"Hold on!" another soldier shouts, firing at the raiders as the rest try to take cover behind a few destroyed cars.

"Oh I'm really going to regret this…" I sigh, turning to Amata and handing her my rifle, "Take this, if someone climbs up the tower, shoot them."
"What are you doing?" She gasps.
"I'm going to get the kid," I sigh, getting ready to jump off the tower.
"Are you crazy?!"
"Yep," I sigh, before leaping off the tower.

I hit the ground, hard. My left leg naturally bends on impact, but my right, of course, doesn't budge. My sense of balance immediately shifts and a shot of pain rips up my right side as the metal rams against my hipbone. I instantly collapse onto the ground and hit the side of my head pretty bad.
"Ugh… god… dammit that hurts." I grunt, picking myself up and spotting the kid around 15 metres away.

I rip out my revolver and start running towards him. Nobody seems to notice me, the raiders especially considering they're too busy screaming at one smallish raider, around 14, who started to run off before being shot in the head by what I assume is their leader. Good old fashioned American "damned if you do, damned if you don't" leadership mentality.
"Hold on kid," I gasp, reaching him and grabbing his jacket.
"Kid!" someone shouts, "Move your ass behind some cover!"
"Can you walk?" I shout at him over the fire.
He nods and looks up at me, blood running down his mouth and coughing some blood up and onto my arms.

"Come on kid!" I shout, picking him up by the sleeve of his jacket and running him behind cover. Goddamn, he's heavy as hell.
"Ugh... oh god I'm gonna die!" he garbles.
"Shut the hell up!" I shout, ducking behind him under a hail of gunfire.
"Oh god oh god oh god!" he bawls, covering his eyes as I look out of cover. It's a good 30 metres to the camp, and a further 10 metres to the closest medic.
"Come on, a little, 30 second run OK?" I glare at him and he quietly nods, tears running down his face.

I help him up and together we start running, his arm around my neck for support.
"Come on you mother fucker…" I growl as he starts to drag behind, "Come on…"
"Corpsman!" I shout as we stumble past a tent, "Corpsman!"
A medic sprints toward us and rips him away from me.
"Shot in the stomach and arm," I pant as he's carried into the infirmary and lay onto a cot.
"The bullet passed through the arm, not so lucky on the stomach wound however," the medic sighs as he puts on some gloves, "I can take it from here."

I run back out of the infirmary and smack into a civilian woman. She has 40 kilos on me, and I bounce off of her like a rubber ball. For the second time in a short time I hit the dirt, skidding along the ground and my lungs breathing dust. I hear a loud bang and a few civvies trample over me, some stepping on my stomach and back.
"Get off of me!" I growl, staggering up and running toward the sound of the bang.

"Oh shit!" I gasp, "Amata!"

The watchtower is now a piece of rubble with old, mouldy wood poking out of it.
"Oh no… oh no, no, no, no, no, no!" I scream, charging toward the small pile of wood, "No!"
I rip the planks of wood off away, clearing them away into another pile with splinters ripping into my hands and arms.
"Daniels!" someone shouts, ripping me away, "The tower was clear."
I look up and see Washington above me, glaring at me.
"Well where is she?!" I feel queasy as a ball of fear hits my stomach.
"Calm down! Amata's smart enough to run! Those fucking raiders sure as hell did the second they ran out of ammo."
I look up at Washington and grab his jacket, "Where is she?" I growl.
"I don't know," he stares back, pushing me off him, "but don't put your hands on me again. I'll help you look, but I saw her running for the camp with my own two eyes."

…

"Amata!" I shout, sprinting through the camp, shoving past a few distraught civvies. I jump over tent pegs and search through our tent, "Amata!" I rip the blankets around the place and look into the sleeping bag desperately.
"Kid, for Christ's sake calm down!" he shouts.
"I can't be fucking calm!" I scream, "Help me fucking find her!"
"Calm the fuck down! As far as we know nothing bad has happened to her."
I grab her handgun that's resting beside the sleeping bag and run outside.

When we decided to set up camp here for a few days, we saw a small parking garage around 200 metres from the current campsite. We ultimately decided against setting up there because of the diseases, the darkness, the lack of a good watch point, and the gate going inside it was a little spotty, occasionally freezing up and making it difficult to get out in case of emergency.
"Daniels! Slow down for Christ's sake!" Washington sighs irritably as I charge down the ramp to the gate and see that it's already open.