Uhhhh, this was so hard to write; rewrote a bunch of times, and I'm still not sure about it...oh well. Thanks for reading as always! I would really love to hear what readers think of the direction I'm going in, my writing skills etc. Pretty please?

I was lying on the cold hard stone of one of the benches when Valkyrie shook me awake.

"Think you've had enough." She stated, and with a motion of her head beckoned two of the Vuvalini women over. "Take her back to the vault." She told them matter of factly, and then flashed me a quick smile. "You did well today; rest easy."

I was too out of it to be embarrassed that the two women had to support me to leave the room, my head hanging as they half-dragged, half-carried me, with an arm under each shoulder. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and don't even remember the cable car or going through the circular rooms which led to what Valkyrie had called the Vault. I came to once they laid me down on a dilapidated couch propped against the wall opposite the piano; something I could've sworn hadn't been there last time I was in the room.

"Need anything?" one of them asked, as they turned to leave. She was the short-haired brown one from the cable car room with all the alcoves; I was slowly starting to recognise these women as individuals, although I didn't know most of their names.

"Food." I gasped, lolling on the couch weakly.

The woman nodded and drawing a thin square package out of her trouser pocket, tossed it to me. Disappointingly, it turned out to be more of the hard-tack biscuit, but I was too hungry to turn my nose up at it. I mouthed it feebly until it was all gone, and then drifted off into sleep again, too tired to make my way to my tiny room.

The setting sun was casting long shadows in the domed room of the vault when I blearily opened my eyes again. I yawned and sat up, feeling a little wobbly. It was lonely being by myself in that large space after having been surrounded by people all day, although a relief not to have so many hands on me. Briefly I wondered where Nux was, remembering that he'd said he would come back to the organic repair shop. Oh well, I told myself, I couldn't expect him to babysit me all the time, and in a way it was kind of nice to have some time to just be, instead of constantly having to interact with others.

I stretched, and the smell of my body hit me, rank with old sweat and the cleaner scent of crumbled earth. I really did need a bath and a change of clothes. Feeling a little uneasy about it, I staggered into Cheedo's room, and picked up some lengths of white cloth from a pile on the floor. They smelt pretty clean, cleaner than what I had on anyway, so I grabbed them and made my way shakily up to the second level where the brass bath stood. It took me a bit to work out how to turn the hose on, and the water was cold, but eventually I was lowering myself into clean water, scrubbing my skin and scalp with the tiny remnants of soap that Cheedo had left on the floor.

I was still splashing around when I heard the sound of the vault door scraping open and the slap of feet entering the room. Hopeful that it was Nux, I got up on my knees in the bath and peeped over the balcony wall, feeling a pang of disappointment when I saw it was Cheedo. This was followed by surprise when I noticed that she was not alone; she had a lanky war boy in tow, leading him by the hand while she looked back at him giggling flirtatiously.

They both looked up at the sound of my splashing around, and Cheedo waved to me happily.

"Good to see ya!" she exclaimed.

I looked from her to the war boy; it was one of the ones I'd healed, but I couldn't remember his name for the life of me. He was one of the younger ones, with coppery stubble and freckles. His green eyes widened as he saw me, and then he blushed, and looked away.

"Cheedo, are you sure..?" I asked, feeling a little protective of her, although she seemed more comfortable with the situation than he did.

Cheedo tossed her hair in annoyance and pouted. "Don't lecture; everyone always lectures me cos they think I'm a baby." She spat the last word, and her mouth settled in a grim line. "Haven't been a baby since Joe laid hands on me," she pulled herself closer to the war boy, looking at him with a soft smile, her moods as changeable as ever. "I spent years being piked by some filthy old man with boils, think I deserve someone young and shiny for a change." She kissed his mouth gently, and giggled again at his clumsy attempt to reciprocate.

I smiled, glad that she seemed so happy. Still, I wanted to make sure she'd be ok; I pointed an accusatory finger at the war boy, and demanded, "You, what's your name again?"

"Hex, Redee - Rachel." He answered dutifully.

"Ok, Hex, if you hurt her," I waggled my finger for emphasis, "if you hurt her, I'll take back all that life I gave you. Got it?"

Hex nodded humbly, still looking back at me as Cheedo took his arm and propelled him into her room, kicking the door closed with a sharp smack. The sound of her laughter floated up to me, and I pushed myself back down into the water until my ears were covered, wondering if I should leave the room for a bit, and if so, where I could go. After a few minutes I decided I was too tired, and since she didn't seem to care, why should I. I just hoped they wouldn't get too loud; in spite of my nap on the sofa, I felt the need for more sleep.

I stood up and stepped out of the tub, standing over the grate while I hosed myself off, and took the opportunity to drink some of the spray. Then I tipped the bathwater down the grate and made a half-hearted attempt to knot the lengths of white material into clothes. This wasn't as successful as when Cheedo had helped me before, but since I was going to bed anyway, I didn't bother with it too much.

Not sure what to do with my dirty clothes, I left them in a pile at the bottom of the stairs, and made my way into my cramped room. Already I could hear sounds of activity from Cheedo's room, and as I shut the door, I could hear Hex's raised voice, crying "Glory be!" Sighing disconsolately and still wondering where Nux was, I threw myself on the bed and burrowed under the blanket, putting the pillow over my head to keep out any further noise. I needn't have worried, because within minutes, I was asleep.

I was disturbed by the movement of someone getting into bed beside me. Startled, and unable to see since the closed door left the room in utter darkness, I stiffened and shrank away.

"'S just me." Nux's voice thrummed quietly through the pillow blanketing my ears. His hand brushed my shoulder, bringing with it the sharp scent of mixed sweat, grease and petrol. He shifted around until he was lying facing me, boots knocking against the bed frame, and lifted the pillow away from my head.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"Cheedo brought a war boy home." I explained dryly, adjusting the pillow so that it was beneath me. His head moved, a dark shape in the surrounding blackness, until it rested on the further end of it.

I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "That's chrome, gonna be more of that now Joe's not running the show." He sounded tired, his hand brushing my hair leisurely from my face and travelling down my shoulder and arm, until it circled my wrist, paused, and then ascended again in a slow sweeping motion.

I reached out myself, feeling the slight jump of his muscles as my fingers stroked his flank. We lay there silently; conversation seemed unnecessary, and I wondered if he was as hypnotised by me stroking his side as I was by the motion of his hand running up and down my arm.

After awhile he sighed, and said, "Talked to Capable; she's angry." His tone was melancholy.

I paused my hand, not sure what to say. Finally, I ventured, trying to keep my voice neutral, "But you're still here."

He sighed wearily. "Yeah, still here."

"You don't have to be; you don't owe me." I told him hesitantly. I didn't want him to leave, but I also didn't want him to stay if that was the only reason.

"Want to be." Came the quiet answer. A pause, and then, "I do owe ya, but's not why."

"Even if it means losing her?" I asked bluntly.

There was a shifting from him in the darkness and I could tell he was shrugging.

"Couldn't make her understand, can't explain…not good with words like that."

"Please, will you try?" I pleaded.

There was a longer pause, so long I thought he'd just decided not to answer. And then, starting slowly, quietly, as if he were thinking aloud, he said, "She's shiny, don't want to lose her, but…in the desert, you, we…were like brothers, like you were my lancer."

This made little sense to me, but it obviously meant a lot to him, so I listened silently while he continued, "She's like the sun, so chrome I can warm m' hands on her, but far above, not for knowing like that, like a brother. I don't know her really; just spent a day and a night with her 'fore I went to Valhalla. What a day that was! But you," he reached up and his fingertips brushed my cheek softly before he let his hand fall, "y'should be a god to me for bringing me back, but you're not. I know you; seen you bleed, seen you starve, seen you chromed," here I could hear a smile of remembrance in his voice, "seen you give up. And…and more I know you, more I want to.

You're different, gentle…not…broken. Everyone here's broken: me, her, Furiosa, war boys, everyone. 'Cept you. 'Cos you're from somewhere else, somewhere better. And I want…I want you cos of it. I don't want to miss out on being with you just cos Capable wants me for herself."

The words were tumbling out of him at an accelerating rate, and now his voice rose with emotion. "I don't understand! War boys ain't like this; we fight, we fuck, we don't say you only have sex with me and no one else. D'ya feel like Capable? If I have sex with you, will you shred me if I have sex with her? I don't understand!" He ended with a wail.

By the end of this outburst he had curled into a semi-foetal position, his head in his hands. Troubled by his obvious distress, I covered his hands with my own, kissing his brow.

"I don't know, I really don't," I whispered frantically, not sure how to calm him down, humbled and admittedly a little disturbed by what he'd said, "I could maybe handle it for a little while, but I don't know." The thought of Hex with Cheedo next door gave me an inspired scenario. "Nux, if you'd come in tonight and that war boy was with me instead of Cheedo, how would you feel? Wouldn't you be a bit pissed? Cos that's kind of what you're asking Capable to put up with."

There was silence as Nux thought this over. Finally, he dropped his hands from his face and tentatively said, "Maybe, if y'didn't tell me first." He sounded unsure and then after a pause he burst out, "Am I like Joe then? She says I just want to be like Joe and have a bunch of breeders to pike whenever I want." There was a tremor of self-revulsion in his voice at the thought of this.

I felt the corner of my mouth switch in a smile. He sounded so young, so completely lost and confused, my heart went out to him. I leaned my head forward and gently kissed his mouth, feeling him respond absently. "I don't think so," I assured him, "It's not like you're rounding us up at gunpoint or anything."

"Should I leave? You want me to go?" His voice was sad, and he shrank in on himself, returning to the foetal position, arms crossed against his chest.

My throat constricted at the thought of it; I really didn't want him to go. I knew it was selfish, and that it was probably going to end badly, but his words had made me realise that I was horribly, hopelessly in love with him.

It was like a weight descending on me to say it, but eventually, I muttered, "If you don't want to lose Capable, maybe. I, I like you a lot," I breathed deep, "like, really a lot…I've never known anyone like you either. I think you're totally awesome, and I'm really attracted to you. But I'm still trying to go home, and if you stay, you might end up with neither of us, cos I'll be gone and Capable will hate you." I stroked his cheek, biting my lip on the words 'I love you', words which seemed unfair to burden him with.

There was a long silence, and as it lengthened, I found it so hard not to blurt out 'stay!'. But I clamped down on the urge, and let my trembling fingers rest on his neck, feeling his hand reach up to lightly caress the circle of my wrist. I tried to prepare mentally for him to leave, telling myself that it was the logical choice, but knowing that I would be wretched if (when, I told myself) he did.