She tried to aim down the sight like he said. She closed one eye and tried to keep her pistol steady. They were crouched behind a bolder, hundreds of meters from the giant ant who was minding its business. Large antennae twitched and ran along the bloated corpse in the distance.

She held her breath, her hand refusing to stay still. She was too twitchy. Too nervous. Plus, he was watching. It was stage fright. She couldn't perform.

"What part of my instructions were not clear to you?" There was aggravation laced in his words.

"Nothing. You explained it well."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

She stared at the ant who continued to chomp down on the dead scavenger. "He's just... not hurting anyone."

"It probably killed that man. If it detects us, it would try to eat us."

"Yeah, but we don't know that for sure. And it doesn't see us. And it's kind of cute."

"What?!"

"Cute. Look at its eyes. Cute little guy." She lowered her gun. "Can we just go to Super-Duper Mart? I bet there's plenty of opportunities to defend ourselves there. Plus, it's getting hot out here." He was silent, eyes boring into her with a disbelieving look. She huffed, "Let's go."

"If that is what you wish."

They made their way towards the prewar grocery store. She had GNR blasting on her pipboy speaker.

"It is not wise to play that out here."

She looked around. "I've played music all the time when I travel. I've never had a problem with it before."

"I am amazed you have survived out here this long, then."

She rolled her eyes. Three Dog was ranting about her last solo adventure. "Little Miss Vault 101 was spotted over in Arefu, where the settlement has been hit pretty hard lately by a marauding gang of riotous ruffians... The cherry on top? She emerged a short time later with a lad named Ian West, who, presumably, had been taken captive in the latest raid. So what happened down there in the stinking, slinking subway tunnels? Friendly chit-chat, or a classic case of shotgun diplomacy?" She shut her radio off. Damn it, Three Dog. The man had spies everywhere.

She picked up her strides, seeing the large box shaped landmark in the distance. The wind was picking up, providing a nice cool breeze as a solace from the painful sunlight that was burning the top of her head. She needed to keep an eye out for a good hat.

They arrived at the back of the store, the concrete cracked and uneven. She practically sprinted to the corner, eager to get inside in the shade. When she rounded the corner, she skidded to a halt.

A gore bag, a warning sign, was plopped on the floor in front of the entrance. Shit. There was a smell she only knew too well. The sour and burning stench of decaying flesh and the buzzing of flies.

She heard Charon pull his shotgun out, cocking it. She had her pistol clutched in her hands, her head spinning back and forth, 180 degree intervals.

"I'm hungry!" A scream roared from above them. SHIT.

Her leg muscles responded and she was pounding the dirt with her boots as she raced the raining bullets that poured from the sky. Adrenaline filled her limbs while she ran toward the grocery store. Inside. Get inside.

She heard Charon as the blast of his gun made her ears ring. So fucking loud. She hated guns. Hated super mutants.

"Yeah! You like that? You ugly fuck!" Charon was practically laughing in between pops of the bullets. The wet gurgling of the super mutant followed by a meaty thump made her turn. He had hit him right in the face, his head clear gone from his shoulders. Ugh.

Charon sauntered over to her, sneering. He didn't need to say anything and he could make it clear what he thought of her. She glared back. Fine. He thinks I'm useless? Let him. She decided to ignore him as she opened the door and crouched into the shadows. He followed her closely and despite his size he moved smoothly and silently. She could see that the mutants had settled into the mart. Mutilated raider bodies were nailed to the walls. Entrails were streamed about the floor and ceiling like a gore infused birthday party.

The stink of rot, human waste, and mildew made her clear her throat.

"Huh?" A deep, dumb voice called out. Heavy footsteps thunked loudly toward them. They patiently waited until the giant creature walked into their sight. She fired, hitting him straight in the neck. He let out a choked gasp, followed by the loud bang of the shotgun. Earplugs. I need fucking earplugs.

Their action hadn't attracted any others. Dust flew about in dirty mist around them. Gunpowder was a nice nasal snuff, strong and sweet on her nose. A refreshing sanctuary of smell helping her forget the area's base aroma. She continued on by hugging the walls, finding herself in the employee breakroom. Stoves and couches. Sinks and refridgerators. She went straight for the food. She was surprised to see that thas none. She lowered her head in disappointment, carefully shutting all the cabinets and refridgerator doors shut. What the hell? Moira said there'd be plenty of food here. "Mountains of Fancy Lad Cakes, Leah!" Her stomach whined, rumbling as she thought of those delicious little sweet pies.

She found a safe. Eager, she took a bobby pin off her head and began working on the lock. She bit her lip, concentrating on getting the sucker open. She had gotten good at this, though she always preferred the convenience of a terminal to hack. She got it open to find only a couple of caps, a hunting rifle, and some rounds of 5.56mm. Not even one box of sugar bombs. Bummer.

She continued on with her crouching crab walk. She had to pause and backwards jaunt when she realized there was a terminal perched on the counter above her. She rose towards it, eagerly beginning her password guessing. She looked around briefly, wondering if there were turrets she could rig or at least a security system she could manipulate. Yes! A Protectron. She got access within minutes.

When her new buddy was released, he clanked and charmingly greeted her as he began his recalibrated assignment as a patrolling robot. She watched as he left the breakroom and began his gradual venture deeper into the grocery store. The sound of lasers hissing and furious baritone screaming was music to her ears. She threw a smirk at Charon who merely looked at the direction where the robot had gone.

When they reached deeper into the heart of the building, her boots began to slip in blood. Ponds of red were collecting under the meathook suspending torsos that hung headless above them. Jesus, what's with mutants and their need for theatrics? She kept her face down, not wanting any of the bacterial timebombs dripping into her eyes or mouth. She saw Mr. Protectron, wires and circuitboards crumbled and spread about its fallen body. She went to it, looking over what could be salvaged. Some energy cells and scrap metal. Winthrop would be so proud. She'd come collect it later, after the place was cleared.

At the other side of Super-Duper Mart, there were three more uglies they had to put down. Charon had made short work of two of them, shotgun ripping their chests open with their spraying shrapnel. She managed to take down one with her peashooter, glad to be done with the deed.

"Great. Now, the fun part!" She rubbed her hands eagerly, standing up straight. Charon ascended, towering over her. "Let's go shopping!"

(Necro)

He had wondered how it was she had survived out there when she clearly didn't have the stomach for the level of violence he had been baptized in. He was beginning to understand, now, that she was indeed just gifted with an unreasonable amount of good luck. She had practically surrendered to death, right underneath that mutant, like a fish in a barrel. And he missed her. She walked away from that with barely an acknowledgment of her recklessness.

And then the Protectron. He admitted it was resourceful, but what were the odds? Sure, she could pick a lock fast, but what was the point if you couldn't hold a gun right to defend yourself? She seemed to just dance through danger with a careless ease he couldn't comprehend. It infuriated him, feeling like he had been given the short end of a very painful stick. Danger was everywhere. Death was in every shadow. Behind every door.

She had turned her radio on again. I bet she likes hearing that DJ praise her. Bet she gets off hearing how great she is. 'I'm Tickled Pink' was playing and echoing off the walls, making him on edge. She was bobbing her shoulders, swaying to the lyrics. What if they missed something? What if there were more about to come in? They weren't being careful. They were doing the exact opposite of careful.

She let out a loud woop that made him snap his head toward her. She held out a prewar dress, holding it out in front of her. She seemed to eagerly look around her for a reflection, then sighing and holding it out to him. "What do you think?"

He glared. "I think being too loud is reckless."

She sighed. "We're fine. You need to lighten up. Hey!" She tossed him a bulky sack of jingling metal. "Your cut. I figured fifty-fifty is only fair. Feel free to let me know if I'm grabbing something you want. I'm planning on selling most of it anyway." She had rigged up a shopping cart and had piled in wonderglue, duct tape, and desk fans. Desk fans. What the hell does she need those for?

She pushed the cart like a satire on consumerism, the wheels running over blood and leaving red streaks onto the dusty linoleum. She's insane. I am working for an insane person.

"Ooh," She stopped when she reached the end of the aisle. Plush animals were scattered. She began pulling them and inspecting them with as much care as he did when he looked at his shotgun for damage. He didn't get it. Maybe it's a vault thing. She did live in some nice underground bunker with plenty of food and comfort. Probably still hadn't had reality come to ruin everything for her yet. When he realized this, he felt an unpleasant twinge of sympathy in his chest for her. He decided to try to not harbor so much resentment to her strange mannerisms. She'll get chewed up and spit back out eventually. Happens to all of us. Best not ruin the fun she seems to be having. It'll happen on its own.

She continued through the store until she reached a locked door. She took out that same bobby pin off her temple and began her routine. She'd stick her tongue out and close one eye when she lockpicked. She was in the zone. As soon as she opened the door she let out a, "Yes!"

Charon could see that they finally found what they came for. It seemed the raiders had stockpiled all the edible inventory in the storage closet. She went straight for a box of cereal, tearing it open and munching. Her eyes watered and she winced. "It's so sweet, my teeth hurt."

"Maybe you should stop eating it, then." He joined her, looking over the endless variety. Prewar delectables that would probably be stale but still have plenty fo calories. Canned fish, meats, beans, and freeze dried foods. It was more than they both could carry. He began collecting all the protein. He noticed she was grabbing sweets like a greedy child. "I do not think that will sustain you if you just eat candy."

"But they're so rare!" She kept shoving boxes of chocolate and preserved cakes into her backpack. Her bag was barely being held in place, bursting at the seams. She tried to put her backpack on, falling over from the weight.

He growled, knowing where this would go. He'd have to carry the rest. "Perhaps we can return to get the rest."

"Maybe. But maybe someone else will want some of this food? Can't get too greedy, right?"

"Well, maybe we can come take it back and distribute it. Like to Underworld."

"That's a great idea." She spun around and held her hand out to him. "Let's do it! After I get back to Moira, want to head back to Underworld?"

He stared at her hand. "What are you doing?"

"High five?" She turned her head and nodded at his hand. "You know. Slap my hand. Slap it!"

He slapped it. Hard. The smack reverberated off the walls.

"Ow!" She held her hand, wincing. "Fuck. Good one," she hissed in between gritted teeth. Her eyes were watering. "Good thing I didn't ask for a fist bump."

"You told me to slap you."

"Yeah, should have been more specific." Her palm was bright red. He felt a twinge of regret. And fear. He had just harmed her. He was on the line. "Hold out your hand."

He did, half expecting her to strike him. She tapped it, a loud but painless clap sounding. "See? High five!" She chuckled. "Yeah, I'm a dork, I know. It's part of my charm." She dug through one of her side pockets, pulling out a bottle of buffout and a bottle of rad-x. The clatter of shaking pills were like maracas. She took a dose from each bottle and crushed them into her teeth. "Want one? It'll make carrying all this stuff easier." She washed it down with her canteen, swishing her mouth.

"You are strange."

She laughed, water spurting from her lips. "Yeah. I know. Get used to it. Oh," she went back out of the storage room to the cart. She dug in and pushed the fabrics and bears aside. "Before I forget, here are all the weapons I've found so far. A couple of grenades, too. Do you know how to use them?"

"Yes."

"Great! Want them?"

"Do you want me to have them?"

She looked up. Squinted her eyes. "I want you to want whatever you want. So... do you?"

This was a game to her. He figured as much. She seemed to want to push him. Test the rules. But he didn't. He just wanted to follow the rules. Not have any trouble. Any pain. So what does she want me to say?

"Charon. Yes or no. Do you want these grenades?"

Fuck, I don't know!

"Hey!" The noise froze them in place. "We're back!-hang on. Something's wrong." A male voice called out into the store. A stranger. Immediately, she had gone to silence her pipboy. She went back to crouching, skittering back into the storage room. They both had their weapons out, slowing their breathing as they listened for footsteps. This was bad. They were practically cornered. He tapped her.

"We don't want to be trapped in this room." He whispered into her ear, just barely heard. She nodded, her hair tickling the top of his conchae. He pulled back, not liking how close she was to him. Too close.

She snuck off out of the room, down one of the aisles. It made his heart sink. She's going to get shot. He followed her, seeing from above that raiders had returned and were walking down the aisles, standing on the top shelves. She had turned into one aisle and when he went to go after her, she had disappeared.

What the hell? He looked up, realizing she had climbed up and was sneaking right behind a man with a mohawk. She had a combat knife in her hand. She slashed the man's achilles tendon while grabbing his gun as he collapsed screaming. It was brutal. She was stabbing him in the neck, straddling him as he lay facedown on the shelf. His shrieking had muffled into a death rattle. Fellow raiders who had heard the carnage were climbing the shelves, running towards the scene, shooting at her. She fell back into the trenches of the aisles. Disappeared again.

Charon shot at them, their back to him. Each one's chest exploded, blood spraying out from their fronts, filling him with an overly satisfied euphoria as they tumbled back to the ground. That seems to be the last of them. He got up to get a better view of the carnage.

"Hey!" She almost made him jump, popping up from behind him. He spun, unnerved that she had actually snuck up on him.

"What the fuck was that?"

She had droplets of blood on her face from when she slit the man's back ankle. She was wiping it with a bandana, blinking through raider goo. "What?"

"Giant ants are cute and then you go and do that?" He pointed at the mess she made, the man's insides dripping down the shelves.

She shrugged. "Ants have never bothered me. People have. Besides. They were just raiders." She looked up at him. "I'm not good at aiming a gun, but I know how to defend myself, you know." She added, a smile creeping wide and sharp, "Plus, I've always wanted to try that. Did you see how fast he fell? He went down like a puppet with his strings cut off."

Ah, there it is. The crack in the glass. The dark side to her crazy. Charon could see the big picture clearer now. Her humanity, showing its sharp teeth. Or maybe it was the buffout that made those silvery eyes get blocked, like a lunar eclipse, by the large black pupils that stared back at him. Her breathing was heavy. Veins were popping out of her neck and temple. Her lean muscles were pushing out from under her skin.

"Do you want to head back?" He hoped to help refocus her. Get her in the right direction. He wasn't familiar with what people acted like on buffout. That hadn't been Ahzrukhal's poison of choice to pump into Underworld. And employers who abused chems often gave unpredictable orders.

"Actually, I want something else," she grabbed the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him down to her eye level. She was so small that he had to bend over to be face to face with her. Her breath was ragged on his cheek. She pushed her mouth onto his, her lips hungry and demanding. He tasted sugar. His mind short-circuited. What. The. Fuck. He froze while she kept pushing into his face. Her tongue was probing the flesh on his mouth.

He flinched back, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. She was breathing deep and fast, sweat dripping down her forehead. Her face was a scary shade of scarlet.

"Shit. Sorry." She turned away quickly. "That was uncalled for. Just got excited. I took some psycho just before killing that guy. I guess it's mixing with the buffout in a way I didn't-think of." She giggled then shook her head. "Shit. I fucked up. Sorry. Let's just go."

She turned and looked up to him, eyebrows wrought with concern. "If you want me to find you a new employer, just tell me. I'd understand if you don't want to work for me anymore. I definitely crossed a line."

He didn't know how to respond. The feeling of her lips-fuck they were so soft-was still there. He still tasted the sugar bombs from her tongue. His face grew hotter. His pants feeling tighter. Say something. "It is up to you if you do not want to be my employer anymore."

She kept her eyes cast downward. She went toward the storage room to get her bag. He followed, waiting for her to say something. She didn't. She chose to remain silent.

Their journey to Megaton was shrouded in this silence.