For all of his long years that he could remember as a pre war detective and whatever of those memories were forgotten or eaten up by the new life in the Commonwealth, Nick Valentine, Nick The Detective, Nick The Snyth or Nicky always maintained that no matter what he knew two things in the life.

The small things and people. The first was easy to explain.

For instance, the Vault Dweller whom he had the astonished meeting with in the middle of a burning vault, then the pleasure of a talkative figure while fighting raiders. After that and witnessing the many angles of a grieving parent and a terrifying individual that sliced through armored synthetic robots with laser guns and electromagnetic rifles like they were paper subjected to a bowie knife. Nick had decided that it would be best to stay on the good side of Samantha the Vault Dweller.

The little things intrigued him though, they asked and answered far more questions than an interview ever could. For instance the inclusion of a bandolier belt that was labelled with a very specific .338 Magnum rounds that were used by pre war snipers , the bullets themselves were placed at the left of the belt for ammunation access while a line of cigarettes took the right. Combined with the way that Samantha stalked and not walked outside indicated that she was probably pre war military. And the cigarettes were a recent addition, Sam (as she known to the few people who she didnt attack with words, glares,bullets or a power fist) only had been recently addicted to. Pre war people used to smoke as many as twelve to sixteen a day while that girl was only on four. Not to mention the lack of a addiction.

On its own though,none of that really pointed to anything. There were plenty of smoking snipers in the Gunners and other Mercenary Institutions in the Commonwealth alone. He could make an accurate guess that since the "old ciggies" as his 300year old dead boss called them. Were mostly used as a stress relief and the culture back then commonly had people smoking them for life. Knowing that Nick supposed Samantha was probably trying to reach back into her old life and copy the mannerisms from back then.

What caught Nick's eye was a pistol that hadn't been fired in months, a .45acp (he thought) that wasn't clean or dirty, just left to rot in a small hostler. Nobody he knew of would resort to using a dammed sniper rifle in a buildings interior or jump Super Mutants with a power fist when a perfectly reasonable pistol was within easy reach, there was plenty of ammunition on the market in Diamond city too. Samantha had used it one handed when she rescued him, firing with one handed perfect aim, and now? All he ever saw was the pistol grip, even in the occasional times they had travelled together.

He'd have to add all of that to the case file eventually, maybe ask some questions if he ever got the time.

Actually now he thought about it, that pistol did look like it had been taken out of the holster recently but why? Samantha carried her bullets openly, "easy to reach" she called it.

Thats what Nick couldn't figure out, who carried a gun but no bullets?

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Cait knew rage and addiction , both usually accompanied with a double barreled shotgun.

There was time she literally couldn't function without psycho. 'Unwarranted hostility and general agitation' were the words Samantha used after she finished nailing a deathclaws horn into a wall while the fucking thing was still breathing courtsey of that massive rifle she carried like a baby.

When confronted about whether or she was going to a; quote "fucking line infantry" unquote or do something about it, Cait jokingly replied that it took two to tangle with regards to addiction. Jokingly.

Samantha had promptly marched Cait to vault95 and forced her into a chair, kicking and screaming as Cait met face to face with the worst pain she had ever felt in her life, being stabbed by needles everywhere and "fockin cut open by a ripper" was the words Cait would describe.

Now Cait wouldn't call herself the most perceptive of people but even after a months travel she had begun to unwillingly and then willingly notice odd behaviour patterns with the Minutemens general.

There were times that face down in the dirt together, Cait clutching her shotgun and Samantha brandishing her rifle that Cait would notice the scope constantly being adjusted and followed by whispers, no. Complaining that the target was gone or had disappeared into thin air.

"What target?" Cait would ask, confused.

"What?" Samantha would reply in a disinterested and far away voice.

Or the psychotic episodes that were usually delivered onto other people , those people being raiders. For someone that called themselves a sniper, Samantha would often blow a stealthy entrance into a building and charge down raiders with nothing but her powerfist, often going for the gut in a bloody display that left a strange and disturbing coat of paint on most interiors in downtown Boston.

And there was also that one time that old Vualties sex drive had dropped completly in Goodneighour, it wasnt Caits of course to pry that Samanthas habit of buying large rooms and then hiring multiple working girls, sometimes even three or more a night! Was bad or anything, Cait knew about using sex and the happy chemicals to force memories and the unpleasant times to go away but to go from standing on guard duty outside your friends door as they spend six hours literally eating another girl (or more) out to no sex happening at all? Well Cait had questions that she probably shouldn't ask.

And then there was the acne, random and weird little red spots that occurred on Samantha's face after they met, spots that bought no little irritation and swearing that amused Cait greatly until she saw the looks that Sammy gave her. The acne on its own wasn't much to cause for concern, Cait had seen it happen to just about anyone, even for someone in their late twenties (?) like Sam. The problems that came with the acne was the issue though , violently mood swings that turned attempted social drinking into bloody bar fights and if cracked skulls, bribery money to even enter Vadims bar then the occasional change of voice from a sexy (from Caits of view) to complete deadpan deep wasn't only weird and alien.

It was a cause of concern.

"Hey?" Cait nudged.

Samantha finished a swig of her cig' and raised an eyebrow in response. "Whats up?"

"Just wondering how ya feeling I guess" Cait raised one back, noting the vault dwellers trembling fingers every time she raised her cigarette , hopefully a sign of caffeine addiction and not something else.

"I'm alright if that's what you're asking?" Came the response.

"Nothing else? No burning secrets or a private vault that I need to take you to in selfness repayment?"

"No, I'm good here"

Less than five minutes later Samantha was in the middle of another drawn cigarette, the mood was lazy and casual between then as they stood in the middle of a dead raider camp, Hardware town or something.

And then it began. The pupil dilation, the sudden cease of finger trembling, a deep voice barked out some name and Samantha drew her pistol, vaulted a table and started running for dear life like something was after her, or she was after someone.

Swearing, Cat ran after her like she'd done too many times before.