A/N: So I decided to have a little break for Mark and Faith before they go off on more ridiculous quests to get the Purifier up and running. I also introduced Kane in this chapter, replacing the character Charon -you other Fallout 3 geeks will know who he is, obviously.

Ripper, I do that on purpose m'dear, just to torment you! J, sry love but that old broad can't accept right away, it's not conducive to my plot.

Mark glared up at the gangplank that led to Rivet City, to Faith and sneered; raising his flask up and drained the rest, growling as the amber liquid spilled down his chin. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened the other day, but he was fairly certain he knew where it had been about to lead too.

At least until her nosy father had come looking for her.

He remembered the expression on Faith's face so perfectly. She had pulled away from him looking astonished, her eyes wide as plates; her mouth opened in an almost comical sort of way; roses in her cheeks… She had bolted.

"Mother fucker…" He growled, reaching down to adjust himself; ignoring the gaping look he received from the homeless man who lived under the metal stairs leading up the bridge.

He had no idea anymore what he was doing. He had his four keys; he should have been on his way back to Underworld by now, going off to get paid opposed to hiding out in a fucking office building with the hard-on from hell.

Instead, he was standing out here, practically begging to be shot, or at least shot at, hoping that damn girl… no, woman, would bring her skittish ass back outside so they could finish what he had been thinking they'd started.

But Faith being Faith hadn't come out; he hadn't seen hide or hair of her for two days. She was avoiding him. Practically tempting him to barge onto the ship and demand she show her cowardly ass.

He was giving serious thought to doing just that when he did see her, almost wondering if this was a mirage brought on by wishful thinking and way too much to drink. But he wasn't drunk, so he was ruling that out. Faith looked mildly annoyed, and yet amused all at once.

She was also carrying her satchel and guns, looking quite… ready to travel. She halted at the bottom of the steps when she seen him, arching an eyebrow. "What the hell are you doing, merc?"

"Contemplating havin' a piss." He grunted. So she wanted to play that game and pretend that nothing had happened? That was not going to fly. "Where're you going?" He gestured to her arsenal.

"To the Memorial to make sure it's still empty. James said that they had continuous problems with the Super Mutants back in the day, so I figured I'd go make sure none of them have taken up residence again."

"Probably not."

"That's what I was figuring too, but…" She shrugged. "He's not getting anywhere with Dr. Li and I'm getting bored. I need to get the hell off that ship."

"So you were plannin' on going alone?"

She obviously did not miss his wolfish smile because two very red spots darkened her cheeks. "Um… I hadn't given it much thought actually. Do you want to come?"

More than anything. "Sure."

"What a complete waste of time…"

Laughing, Faith stepped out of her father's bedroom, shaking her head as she surveyed the mercenary. "You knew as well as I did that this place was probably abandoned still. You were the one who wanted to tag along; I didn't twist your arm."

"No, that wasn't what you twisted." He could not, for the life of him, keep that from coming out a leer. It was so worth when her jaw dropped. Clucking his tongue, he reached out to push her chin up; shutting her mouth. "Flies will get in."

Faith's lips twisted into a disgusted expression at the thought of one of the gigantic, mutated Bloat Flies even attempting to get into her mouth. "That's disgusting."

"Look, I have to make a trip to Underworld."

"That business with the keys you mentioned?"

He nodded.

"How long will that take?"

"Few weeks, a month at the most. It'll all depend on what I run into."

"Sounds like fun, count me in."

The journey to Underworld took only a few weeks, as Mark had predicted. This time, when they ventured into the tunnels, Faith was more prepared. After what she had gone through recently, with venturing out in the Wasteland on her own; what had happened in Vault 112, she was a bit more cautious, smart and perhaps a tad more older for all of it.

As Mark led her up the cement steps into the light, she damn near jumped however, when they were greeted with a gun in their faces.

"Tourists, I think- Oh, it's you."

The Ghoul was obviously female, or had been female, Faith wasn't sure how to approach it and felt that staring was not in her best interest, but neither was looking away. Instead she settled for staring at the gun.

"Who's the smooth skin?"

"Just a kid I picked up." Mark drawled, packing a fresh pack of cigarettes against the palm of his hand as he smiled down at the… woman. "You going to let us in?"

"Now you know the rules, tourist." The Ghoul drawled, shouldering her automatic rifle. "Behave in there, or else."

"Course." Inclining his head, Mark reached back to thread his free hand with Faith's, ignoring the look she shot him as he guided her forward.

Smirking, she snatched the cigarette he had just lit from him and took a quick pull before passing it back, long used to his unfiltered smokes by now. Faith ignored his grunt, allowing him to lead the way inside; her eyes widening as she took in the display around her. "What is that?" She demanded, dragging her heels into the cracked and uneven marble floor so he was forced to stop; pointing.

Mark followed her gaze until he was looking at the wooly mammoth display, which surprisingly, was still in very good condition. "Mammoth."

"What's a mammoth?"

For once, he found himself actually knowing something -book smart wise- that she didn't, and began the explanation process, how the beast had lived long before the Great War, before the old World Wars, even before the time of Christ.

Faith seemed to be having a hard time believing all that, her expression going from curious to bemused to disbelief and once he hit Christ, bitter.

"So… you don't believe mammoths existed?"

"I have a hard time believing there were once green trees, let alone a beast that lived long before humans did."

"How about Christ?"

"The Son of God, even I know that story." She said it disdainfully. "My father would tell me stories from my mother's Bible, she really loved Revelation 21:6, 'I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely'."

Well, from his understanding, that went right in hand with the whole Project Purity, delivering uncontaminated, radiation free water to the Wasteland. "You a believer?" He asked curiously, knowing a lot of the people milling about had their beliefs. People in Megaton had a cult to that damn atomic bomb. Rivet City was filled with Saint Monica worshippers and he knew there were various other beliefs floating out around the Wasteland.

"Not in no damn bomb, not in a patron saint or anything else. I'm atheist."

"Parents?"

"James is Agnostic, my mother was a Christian. She believed in God, in his Son, all that shit."

"Why don't you?" He had a feeling this was a touchy subject for her but he couldn't help pressing, knowing it was keeping her distracted from all the Ghouls who were staring at her, as if they were the oddities, and he supposed, in Underworld, they were. "Or at least, why aren't you Agnostic?"

"Because than I would have to believe in something higher than myself, some supreme being or maybe a group of them and I can't honestly have faith in some super power that would allow all this to happen to its creation. Isn't that the God? He created the earth, us, and then what? Abandoned us? Like we were a failed social experiment." She shook her head, laughing dryly. "I'll pass thanks. There was a woman in the Vault, an old lady, she liked to quote the Bible to me and tell me how God is love. Do you know the verse John 3:16?"

"Can't read, remember?"

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him, shall not perish but have everlasting life." Faith quoted from memory, beginning to come out of her reveries and realize where the hell they were, obviously trying not to flinch. "But the point was, He sent his kid to die for us as proof of his love, and reassurance that life, our individual lives, maybe all life, isn't for nothing. That there IS a happy ending waiting for each and every one of us, or back then at least. Sounds like a damn fairytale to me."

"Or a matter of faith." He offered quietly.

She shot him a dark look, obviously not finding that very funny.

The Ninth Circle was a bar… run by a Ghoul who went by the name Ahrukhal, who was rather… well-mannered, if not a bit… creepy, and sleazy. To Faith, he was basically a Ghoul version of Colin Moriety, which meant she did not like Ahrukhal at all.

Mark had dropped her off here before going to tend to his 'key' business, informing her that his current employer probably wouldn't find it very professional if Mark was touting along other people to what was supposed to be a private business transaction. He told her that for the most part, she should be fine, just not to provoke Kane.

And she had no idea who the hell Kane was.

After an hour sitting at the counter and drinking watered down beer and listening to Ahrukhal, she finally found out who Kane was. Kane was a rather dangerous looking Ghoul who stood with his back against a wall, just watching the bar.

She made an inquiry to Ahrukhal and found out that Kane was under some sort of contract to the bartender, and that Kane was fiercely loyal, and very good at killing things.

She wished Mark would get his ass back sooner rather than later.

"What a light-weight…" Ahrukhal snorted, staring down at the smooth skin. He had started giving her less water and more alcohol, in her beer… And she had passed out. Shaking his head, he reached out to smooth down her hair, ignoring the pointed look he got from Kane. "Do you have any idea how much money I could make off of her?" He sighed wistfully, then scowled, knowing that wasn't likely to happen so long as she was under the protection of the Undertaker. "Damn it…"

Kane growled, but didn't move.

Ahrukhal ignored his slave, knowing Kane had high morals, which he himself did not share. But Kane was also very… loyal, according to his last owner, something to do with brainwashing as a child; to whoever held his contract. So long as he held the contract, he was safe.

When he spotted 'Taker coming in, he smoothed down the front of his grungy suit and resumed what he had been pretending to do all along, wiping down filthy glasses. "Whiskey?"

"Nah, Carol already refilled me." The merc sat down besides his charge, tapping his flask. "What happened to her?"

Ahrukhal shrugged, hiding a scowl. He hated Carol with a passion, if not for her and her lesbian lover; he would have ALL of Underworld's business, not just some. "Hey," He began slowly, an idea rolling around in his rotting skull. "You looking for some work?"

'Taker shrugged, still staring down at Faith before finally turning his steely gaze to the Ghoul. "How much did she drink?"

"Too much apparently."

"She's not a big drinker."

Ahrukhal swallowed hard. "Well, maybe I-" He grunted when he was suddenly jerked across the bar by the collar of his shirt; glancing at Kane who was already approaching.

Before Kane could even draw his own weapon however, 'Taker had a gun digging into Ahrukhal's forehead, the Ghoul's eyes crossing in order to see it. "Order him down or I'll have to blow whatever brains you got left out." He ordered in a low monotone.

"Kane, no, just… back off. BACK OFF!"

Kane did, his fingers convulsing violently.

"So, what did you give my friend?"

"Watered down beer…. And…. And…"

"And?"

"And maybe some of that Everclear stuff…"

'Taker's grip tightened even more, the shirt material digging into Ahrukhal's throat, cutting off the oxygen flow. "Why?"

Ahrukhal knew better than to answer that one, shrugging helplessly.

"I see." The Deadman's lip curved into a sneer. "I think you owe me, don't you?"

"Sure, sure, anything!"

"I want Kane's contract."

Even though he knew it was stupid, Ahrukhal began laughing. "What the fuck for? You're the goddamn UNDERTAKER!"

"For her."

Her meaning the smooth skin.

"Not for free, 2,000 caps." He knew he was digging his own grave but Kane had not come cheap and he wasn't just giving him away.

"Lower the price."

"I can't, you-" Ahrukhal tried to inhale but found what limited air he had been able to take in suddenly gone. He struggled for what seemed like ages before 'Taker's grip loosened, causing him to inhale like made. "1,000! That's as low as I can go."

The Undertaker smiled, nothing friendly about it.