"Yeah, I'm a wanderer,"

Lydia chewed the stub end of her pencil before bringing it down to a rolled-out sheet of an electronic schematic and ticking off a few marks.

"Yeah, the wanderer,"

The assaultron in her shop wasn't in such deplorable shape as the one back in Kittery had been, but its laser circuit repeatedly fried whenever tested, and she was running low on replacement fuses. She wasn't going to bother in asking Charon if he had retrieved that piece she requested from Port Stein...the ghoul had more pressing matters to attend to.

"I roam around, around, around."

The merc didn't take anything less than the best when it came to the quality of death and destruction. That guaranteed her the parts despite the rarity and cost…but it also placed the pressure to give a top-notch product. She had let everything fall to the wayside after he had left, and she sure as fuck wasn't going to make the same mistakes twice.

She took a break to retrieve a bottle of quantum from the top shelving in the common area. Damn…down to only a few bottles; she would have to get more at some point. The cap was popped and the beverage was enjoyed with a few hearty swigs while she watched the commotion go about the compound. Doc Stock donned his coat and hat as though he were making a simple grocery run, muttering something about requiring certain medications as he left with Can at his back.

A plate of some cram and a bottle of irradiated water was taken to the cells for their lonely prisoner. Russel hadn't been questioned for a few days now…she wondered why Cross was biding his time this long.

"Eat up, Russ," Lydia snarked as she thrust the tray through a slot in the door.

"I want to talk to him."

It was the first time she had spoken since then, and it made Lydia pause in her step before walking away.

"Talk?" Lydia gave her a look like she had suddenly grown an extra pair of arms. "You finally ready to fess up for your shit?"

"I just want to talk to him."

Lydia blew out a rude sound and turned her back on the ghouling woman. "Yeah, you'll see him when he fucking remembers you're even down here."

She didn't bother the merc with the request…she honestly didn't desire to spoil his good mood with anything less. The sounds of Evelyn's laughter and the merc's stupid jokes threw her for a fucking world of a curve. She didn't ever think she would hear Cross speak so fondly to someone, much less laugh again.

They were all back in that small hotel room at Carly's; she was only nineteen, fresh-faced to the world despite her struggles. Evelyn was but a strange woman with an even stranger lover, and they both showed her an act of kindness that no one else ever had.

It was as though she had never left.

Told you we should've looked! She sourly thought for the hundredth time.

How different their lives would've been…how happy he would've been, but then again, it didn't matter. What was done was done, and what had been lost was returned. He seemed to be more than making up for the lost time that had been ripped away from him, never leaving Evelyn's side and always chattering away under that goofy persona she was certain had died that night. A one-time stop for some files in the ghoul's office all too quickly reminded her of his other activities that he had given up previously. Pieces of her brain were forever scarred from the sight of that.

The merc occasionally popped in her shop for a progress update on her bots; she had been somewhat flustered at first from the uncalled-for attention, but he just broke the mold with a joke and fondly ruffled her hair like he used to when she was younger. Even if Evelyn so happened to be a synth, she couldn't bring herself to care. Cross was such a happy bastard with her around, and she hoped it forever stayed this way.

Lydia perused through a crate for some parts to upgrade Sparky with when she spied Evelyn entering the ferryman's…vandalized workshop. The ghoul didn't seem interested in cleaning up the mess, and she sure as hell wasn't about to ask what had happened, but she now quietly observed Evelyn going about picking up the disarray, and the ghoul placed his bottle of scotch to the side as he helped. They spoke in low, murmured tones until a shout from Charon broke the stillness in the air.

"This will not be fine!" he snapped, and then he blew out a shuddered breath as he spun around to grab at his drinking habit.

Lydia peered from over the crate, watching as Evelyn gently took the bottle from him and continued to speak in that calming way she had. She held his hands to her chest as they eventually seemed to agree on something, for he grabbed at his armor that was piled in the corner and began to assemble it together. Lydia sneakily made her way past, attempting to appear busy with an armful of weapon mods and defense plates just as Evelyn left his shop.

"Do you need anything?" Evelyn asked her. "Charon's going out for some, well, I wouldn't call it fresh air."

Lydia thought carefully. "How about a couple of quantums? They really keep me focused. Are you going too?"

"Where are you goin'?" The merc poked his head out from the balcony overhead.

"Isn't that Walsh's room?" Lydia observed with a hint of a slant to her eyes.

"Man's dead, ain't he?" Cross was holding a faded cover of an erotic magazine in one hand. He flipped it open and flicked at a lewd picture. "Hey baby, I got somethin' I'd think you'd like."

Lydia threw her eyes away. "You're a disgusting old man."

Charon rubbed at his eyes as they began to bicker and argue and all the other crap he really didn't need right now. It had only been a few days since Evelyn had divulged that life-altering information, and while a change in scenery did sound pleasant, he still had some solitary thinking to do.

…and his workshop was a complete disaster, no thanks to his tantrum.

Charon butted in their side conversation. "Lydia requests some quantum. I request some silence. Is there anything you request?"

The magazine was snapped shut and stowed inside his back pocket. He quickly flit his eyes over to his wife. "You goin' alone?"

"I am," Charon affirmed with some annoyance creeping in his tone.

The merc shrugged and turned to continue snooping through his deceased subordinate's possessions. "I got everythin' I need."

Evelyn briskly tailed the ferryman's heels as he sharply made his way to leave. "Charon-"

The ghoul halted by the entrance and rammed a finger at her. "If this is your way of making him wait, it is not working. It has been days, and you have done nothing," he growled. "Tell him."

Evelyn blinked, and her blue eyes became clear as though the entirety of the world was laid bare at her feet. "Maybe you were the one I should've waited with."

Charon snapped his head to the side as if she'd hit him. With the knowledge he had now, just entertaining the notion that she could keep something so well hidden from him made him feel…betrayed.

"I will return," he said dully, and he didn't bother to apologize for the crestfallen expression he slapped on her face.

Evelyn was left on the other side of the entryway, the door closing her two worlds apart.

I just want you both to be happy, she thought sadly as she hugged herself. A strong urge to chase after him and demand they reconcile placed her hand on the door, but she forced her feet to move about the compound instead. After some thought, she lightly knocked on the frame of the archway outside Lydia's workshop. The now older woman, who was poring over some blueprints with the stub of a pencil in her mouth, looked up at her unexpected visitor.

"Knock knock," Evelyn said shyly. "…may I come in?"

"Uh." Lydia stood from her barstool chair, knocking over a can of screws with her elbow in the process. "Shit." She waved a hand around the room, nervous and suddenly nineteen all over again. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Sorry 'bout the mess."

"After seeing Cross's office, I don't think this constitutes as a mess," Evelyn mused as she circled around Sparky sitting dormant at its robot workbench. "Cross tells me you build them from scratch."

"When I can." Lydia rolled up her schematics in a self-conscious effort at tidying up. "I mean, if the guys don't blow them up first, I can usually reprogram them to bring home."

"…I'm sorry what happened, in Kittery."

Lydia scratched at her elbow; her shoulders slumped. "…me too. They were a good crew." She watched Evelyn pick up a solenoid and furrow her brows in trying to understand what it was. "I think you would have liked them. The base, too…it had a nice view of the bay."

"Living with a bunch of cut-throat mercenaries sounds extremely appealing. Would that have made me the newbie, then?" Evelyn's fingertips brushed along a high shelf; a body drew flush behind her and reached over, easily nabbing at the piece.

"Ya have to be a part of the crew to be a rookie." Cross handed down the electrical box for her inquisitorial purposes. He gave Lydia a wink. "Christ knows I would've never hired ya. You'd fuckin' wipe out half my guys with all the crazy stunts you pull."

Evelyn scoffed and rotated the thing in her hands. "I'll just make my own crew." She closed one eye and peered inside a hole. "Give it a much more original name."

"Oh yeah?" He leaned against the table, crossing his arms. "Like what?"

"We-hmm." The tilt of her head, combined with the far-off look in her gaze, made her appear to seriously consider such an avenue. A shrug of her shoulders, and she handed the box back for him to reshelve. "I'll have to think about it." She pointed to another box. "Aren't you supposed to be busy slaving over mundane tasks?"

His hands paused at the item. "I can't tell if that was meant to be ironic."

A cheeky smile, and she clapped her hands together in a mock thank you as he set it on the table. "This is so not mundane."

"So productive," he mocked, and both women laughed.

Lydia held her chin in hand as she watched the two interact to the side, blind to the rest of the world as they became so lost with each other. Evelyn swiped some grease on the merc's shirt with a pinched expression; he dipped his fingers in a can for a whole handful and slathered her across the face in return. A sincere gasp left her lips, and she looked at him with such disbelief and shock he laughed. Before she could become upset, he cupped both hands around her face and kissed her senseless as he blindly walked them out the door.

"Was she the one?" Evelyn simply asked after placing the last book on its (proper) shelf. She assessed her work- the disorderly room was becoming something worthy of actually calling an office. When the merc said nothing, she half-turned her head.

He was staring out the open doorway. "Yeah…she was the one." A shameful expression was on his face, and he shrugged. "Ya want her gone?"

"Why would you have her leave? I thought you were still 'interrogating' her." Evelyn gave him a patient smile. "I already told you, I'm not mad you tried moving on…even though I hate to say it, I wish you would have done it sooner-"

He abruptly rose from his seat, irritated and uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. It was ten years spent on it, and he wasn't looking at spending anymore. "There's nothin' fuckin' there."

Evelyn came to his side, gently laying a hand on his bicep. "You don't have to get so upset. I was just going to say that you should talk to her…she clearly isn't over it. People can't help how they feel." Her eyes squinted playfully, and her lips twitched into a smirk. "I mean, obviously."

There was no chuckle; not even a grin. He grabbed at her hand a little too tightly and held it up to graze against his cheek. A close of his eyes, and Evelyn waited as he steadied his breathing. He kissed the inside of her palm. "I honestly don't know what to say to her."

"Tell her the truth. Be honest…a little hard, in your case, but I'm sure you'll manage," she said with a light tease.

He snorted, and trailed his mouth down her forearm. "…yeah, I'll talk to her."

"Good." She snaked her other hand around his waist as he bent down to share a deep kiss. When she broke away and led him forward, he opened his eyes to her smile and whispered words. "Now hand me that next stack."

A low growl, and he bit her lower lip so fiercely it drew blood. He ripped her pants down to her thighs and turned her around to shove her over his desk. Their fuck was rough; his hand was entwined through her hair as he pulled her head back to expose her throat. He clapped against her ass so loudly it muffled their gasps of pleasure. When he was ready to come, he pulled out and sprayed across her exposed cheeks.

"That was not fair," she accused breathily, and she spun back around with a vicious glint in her eyes.

Cross was already buckled and shrugging on his jacket.

"Are you leaving me like this?!" she sputtered.

"Like, really?" he mocked with a grin. When her hand gripped the edge of his desk and splintered it, he wiped the blood from her chin and kissed her forehead with a wet smack! "I'll make it up to ya."

"Oh trust me, you will be," Evelyn muttered snappishly under her breath as he left.

Cross's hand faltered at the service door leading to the few cells they had installed a couple of years back. He didn't feel nervous in confronting her alone, nor angry, regretful, upset…he felt, nothing. His footsteps rounded to the front of her cell. Russel instantly scooted to the far wall like some frightened animal; there was already a light haze to her amber eyes.

No way a few barrels of radiation did this to ya, he thought. Hell are you hidin', and why?

"Ya don't need to look so scared," Cross grumbled, releasing a deep sigh as he rummaged through his jacket and held out a smoke for her to take. "We're just goin' to talk, okay?"

She held the unlit cigarette between her scabby fingers; her chocolate eyes raised to catch the strike of a match. Bright orange and blossoming yellow ebbed into a smooth flame. He lit her smoke; the simple grace felt intimate in the confined setting with his large hand so close to her face. He smelt of musk and sweat; the pheromone twinged a coiling heat through her sex with the memory of his palm cupping her cheek.

"Talk?" she muttered, her lash-less eyes fluttering as she took a drag. "That's what you said before, wasn't it?" Russel squinted her eyes, casually spending her smoke as though it was her last.

"I guess I wanted to..." He scratched the back of his head; he was openly uncomfortable, and she couldn't help but find it cute.

Russel fiddled with a stray thread on her jacket. "…if…if I could just ask…would there've been? If…you came back?" She shyly glanced up.

"Does it matter?" he growled, and she ducked her eyes back down to the safety of her distraction. Cross blew out a sigh. Tell her the truth. "…I honestly can't say." A flash to his previous fantasies that had kept him company to Braxton; the excitement he had felt. "Maybe. I don't know."

Now she was staring at him with such want; the same image he had eagerly masturbated to in what seemed like another life. He coughed into a fist. "You good?"

A simple question, but Russel had witnessed the very thing she found herself asking each night. He did want her. A small smile graced her lips, and he mistook it for closure. She turned her head to look down at the receding glow of her smoke.

"That's the only good thing, about being a ghoul, isn't it?" she said softly. "We outlive everyone else…when she's gone, I'll still be here."

Cross leaned in close to the bars, making her shrink back from his unexpected proximity. The soft mellow of his eyes turned to honed razorblades; she could've mistaken him for a feral.

"Not unless I put you in the ground first."

When he stomped away and slammed the door shut, she flicked her smoke to the cold concrete. Shit…but the price of his wrath was worth the thought she put in his head.

Evelyn made a thump back on the soaked sheets.

"Might be too tall for this one…" Cross scratched at his brow as he studied the colorful pages of a magazine labeled Lust & Spice. He stretched his spine and massaged his nuts while in deep thought. "Oh yeah, that's a good one–" He glanced up to her dribbling water all over herself as she drank deeply. "…ya want to stop?"

"God," Evelyn breathed, tossing the empty bottle across the room. She filched the magazine and slapped it shut on the nightstand. "I need to sleep for another ten years."

"If that's a joke, I ain't laughin'."

Evelyn uncapped another bottle, draining it halfway and rolling her eyes at his serious tone. The plastic crinkled under her hand as she squeezed it and wiped at her damp lips. "Well, I really need some air. I might ask Lydia if she wants to take a walk. Will you survive on your own for an hour or two?"

"Why the fuck am I always the one gettin' left behind?"

"Oh please! You are so dramatic."

Cross stretched out and slung an arm around her waist. "Do I not fuckin' exist, anymore?"

"Too much lately," she quipped meanly.

"Fuck's that supposed to mean?"

When she left the bed to begin dressing, she paused and dropped the hem of her pants to the floor. "Cross-"

The freshly cleaned trash bin barely swooped over in time to catch her late lunch. She screwed her eyes shut and cracked her toes against the floor as she groaned and hacked in misery.

"I ain't watchin' this," Cross groused as he swiped at his clothes. "We're goin' to see someone else. You've been sick all fuckin' week now-"

"It's fine." She weakly waved a hand at him. "He said it would get better."

"How?! He hasn't even given ya anythin' for it-"

"He's getting me meds today." She spit, and then set it to the side. "You want to take that walk with me?"