"Leaving already, dollface?"

Lydia puckered her lips around the last of her smoke before stubbing it out in an ashtray. She blew the white haze at the woman's face that was still lying in bed.

"I got a job to do." She smirked with a playful wink. "Maybe I'll come by and see you later."

"Yeah, yeah," Fahrenheit drawled, and she reached a hand back to smack Lydia's bare ass while she bent over. "Just leave that old man already and come work for us…we wouldn't have to keep pulling this shit."

The buckles of her pants clanged loudly as she hoisted them upward. "Working for that old man has its perks."

"And so does being here." Fahrenheit sat upright and snagged the packet of cigarettes off the dresser. "You said it yourself, the Black Cazadors are a done deal. Check." She struck a match to light the tip of her cigarette. "And mate." She wafted the flame through the air to extinguish it. "So what the hell are you still doing with them? Running shit errands? Looking after his pretty wife-?"

"Hey," Lydia snapped with an edge of warning. When she didn't further elaborate, she went about tucking her tank top over her head. "…let's just leave it, okay?"

"Heard she's pregnant. Who had those honors?"

Lydia dropped her shoe before she could put it on. She turned to her lover with eyes wide from shock. "Where the fuck did you hear that?"

"Are you really so surprised? Commonwealth isn't as big as everyone makes it out to be."

"Fahr, I'm serious." Lydia came to the edge of the bed. "Where the fuck did you hear about that?"

"What? So the man got cuckolded for his wife to pop out a squirmer. Who cares?"

"I care." Lydia sat down, pressing a palm firmly onto Fahrenheit's shoulder. "You have to tell me where the fuck you heard that, and who else knows. I'm not fucking around."

Hancock's right-hand woman stared at Cross's for a long period of time, her eyes hard and unrelenting due to the gravity the situation had brought weighing down. "…heard it in The Third Rail, a couple of ghouls were talking about it. I don't know who else heard, and I don't know who they were. Just looked like a couple of drifters."

"When was this?"

"I don't know, about a month ago, I guess?"

"Does Hancock know?"

"No…it sort of just slipped my mind."

"You cannot go around spreading that information-"

"Why? What the fuck is so-"

"Fahr, I mean it. If Cross knows that you know, and whoever else, you'll disappear. You've seen the kind of person he is, so for me, keep this information to yourself, and if you hear anything more about it, tell me."

Fahrenheit nodded slowly, watching her go about putting on her shoes. "You still coming by later?"

Lydia breathed a relieved chuckle and swiftly turned around to smack a kiss on her lips. "I'll bring some beer."

She left her lover's room, discreetly glancing inside another one that left its door open while she passed. She caught sight of Hancock's bare ass, his wiry body laying limp and softly snoring amongst a woman…and a man, with a scattered decoration of empty chems. Sexually, she didn't find any appeal in ghouls…they still slightly terrified her, as much as she would never admit it. How Evelyn looked at Cross and Charon without a single trace of fear in her eyes was something she would never understand…how she had sex with them, was entirely unfathomable.

The bottom step of the stairwell creaked under her shoe; the door to the Old State House loudly whined as she opened it to the early morning sunshine. With a pop of a mentat on her tongue, she rolled the grape-flavored chem around her mouth as she made her first stop of the day.

"Hey Daisy." Lydia raised a hand nonchalantly. "Got anything new?"

The shop proprietor turned around from rustling through a crate of wares. She gave her regular customer an easy smile...even if all of her teeth weren't accountable. "Didn't expect to see you here so early, just opened up shop, you know." A small sack on the lower shelf was hoisted over to settle between them. "Never in all my years would I think to see so much of this stuff. I don't know where it all comes from, but it does."

Lydia cracked the dissolving mentat on a back molar as she unwrapped the knot and peered inside. Baby accessories of various sizes, and a small can of green paint (the last color Evelyn needed). Evelyn was going to freak with excitement. Lydia quickly tied it closed and subtly glanced around. The streets were empty; her only reason for being up so early. She traded a pile of caps for the goods.

"You haven't had anyone asking about this stuff, right?" Lydia questioned as vaguely as she could. Daisy, now apart from Fahrenheit, was perhaps the only person privy to the fact Evelyn was expecting. It was difficult to keep such a thing under wraps from their most consistent supplier in harder to scavenge items.

The ghoul merchant caught the discretion she was tossed. "Just you, honey…and sometimes that asshole you call a boss, no offense."

Lydia cracked a smile. "None taken. He is an asshole." She looped the bag over one shoulder. "Thanks Daisy."

"Anytime, and if you could, tell her I said thanks for that last book...it was a good read."

A two finger salute, and she was on her way. A neighborhood watchman taking the early shift gave her a subtle nod of his head as she walked the piss-smelling streets to the Memory Den. As always, she had to take small breaths to adjust to the stuffy pheromone Irma intoxicated the place with- it seeped into her clothes, no matter how short of a visit she made.

The closed door leading to the Silver Shroud's radio headquarters was abuzz with broadcasts. Cross had told her once that he had used to listen to the radio program back from when he was just a young kid…she couldn't imagine the ghoul as a smoothskin, much less a child.

Mistress of Mystery…yeah, she was kind of my first, ya know what I mean?

On second thought…she could.

Irma's smooth voice turned her head from the commotion of Kent Connolly's room. "Here for Amari?"

Lydia folded an arm across her chest, her posture straight business. "Cross is losing his patience."

"Well don't take it out on me." Irma waved a hand to the back stairs. "You know your way, I gather?"

Lydia stepped past the older woman, descending to the scientist's personal lab. "Doc."

The scientist spun around in her chair, steam lazily rising from a mug in her hands. "I found something."

Lydia nearly dropped her package in surprise- it was set down to the side as she eagerly stood at Amari's elbow to share her terminal screen. "Is it ready?!"

"Well…no." Amari turned back to the data she had uncovered. "I've told you before, this memory module is the most complex device I've ever seen from a synth-"

"Yeah, encrypted, blah blah blah." Lydia waved a hand to skip the exposition she'd heard a hundred times. She leaned over, squinting her eyes at the green text. "So what did you find?"

"This." Dr. Amari typed in a key, and a single text box came to life on the screen.

A Robin Red breast in a Cage, Puts all Heaven in a Rage.

Lydia made a strange noise in the back of her throat and scratched at her shaven scalp. "…and it means?"

"I'm not sure," Amari confessed after taking a sip of her beverage. "I was hoping perhaps you would provide some insight. I can't move past this…whatever this is. It's almost like a puzzle."

"And I'm the last person to ask about it," Lydia muttered sourly under her breath. She thumped her knuckles on the table before spinning away. "I'll relay what you've got, thanks Doc."

The tiny developing tidbit was better than nothing, and would hopefully (somewhat) sate the ghoul's famished appetite for information on Darcy's memories. The merc was becoming more and more of a prick again lately…she could sometimes hear him arguing with Evelyn in their room late at night, the heated exchanges having long replaced the sounds of loud sex.

Neither was anything pleasant.

"Dead, huh?"

The raspy voice drew her away from her private thoughts; an old client she had personally cut ties with was standing beside the entrance to The Third Rail, a long cigarette stick poking from her painted lips. Two armed ghouls outfitted in some considerable armor were standing like heeled dogs behind her; a single snap of fingers and their muzzles would be cut loose.

"He's not in the business anymore, Jolene," Lydia curtly informed her. She went to trudge past before the ghoul could try and worm her way back into Cross's limelight. It was the absolute last thing he needed right now.

A click of heels as Jolene turned to watch her pass by. "Word's been going around that he's looking for Sinjin."

Lydia stopped in her tracks, looking at the ghoul woman that now wore a rouge smirk. "Yeah? Hell do you know about it?"

Jolene took a puff on the end of her cigarette stick and discreetly blew the smoke to the side. "Enough to talk to the man himself…tell him he can buy me a drink down at The Third Rail, just like he used to."

"It's not smart to waste his time."

"Oh honey, I'm never a waste of time."

"He's married." Lydia gave the woman a pointed look from her head to her toes. "Happily."

Jolene's eyes slanted; the dark charcoal around her lids smudging further into their creases. "If he wants the information I have, I'll be here for the next few days…he knows I don't like to wait."

Cross widened the crack in the door, stepping inside to a much different scene than he had left it in. Charon was stark naked (bastard didn't waste time, not that he blamed him) lounging beside her in bed with a hint of musk still lingering in the air. He was propped up on one elbow, his face barely withholding shock as he felt the tumbles and jabs under his palm around her belly button.

"And it does not hurt?"

"Sometimes…only if he kicks in certain spots."

"It is a boy?"

"We're actually not sure, but Cross swears it is."

She was wearing something he had not seen for some time now…an infectiously wide smile. The merc felt himself inwardly crumble as he merely stood there, a stranger to his own wife, watching her giggle and shyly grin under the affections of another man. He'd been so focused on his retribution and pointlessly arguing his case against her that he had forgotten the entire reason he was even pursuing this bastard at all.

Charon raised his eyes to address the glowing elephant in the room. He softly snorted as he traced a hand up the curve of her belly. "I hear there is much to discuss."

Evelyn turned her head, the radiating sunshine she illuminated the room with instantly disappearing behind a cloud of uncertainty. That fucking hurt. She dropped her eyes from his face, giving her attention back to the crimson ghoul.

"You just got back," she whispered, and Cross didn't know if she was intentionally trying to make their conversation private, or if she was perhaps subconsciously scared of provoking another fight.

"I did." Charon tucked her hair behind one ear, his fingers climbing through the blonde curls and around to the backside of her head. "I will not be long."

The last night before Charon had left on his solo journey, he had everything waiting at the door so he didn't wake her from her dreams. Charon had no intention of telling her farewell; he didn't give her the chance to have him change his mind. He didn't tell her where he was going, how long he would be gone…or that he was even leaving to begin with. She had suspected nothing- not even as he fucked her just a little bit rougher, a little more forcefully, pinning her down and grazing his teeth against her earlobe as he spat his frustrations.

She took it as great sex; he meant it as goodbye.

Cross had met him at the door after his bags were shouldered and his determination was unwavering. The merc didn't have to ask where he was going- he knew. He always knew, every year, for the past four, just where he was going. Charon didn't know how long he would be gone this time, only that he had to.

"Ya know…I never thought I'd say this, but, come back in one piece."

The request was spoken uncomfortably, as though he was admitting his heartfelt love for the man. It made Charon's chest tighten; he didn't understand it. Their relationship was close, close enough that only hours ago Evelyn had been tasting them both in her mouth simultaneously. They shared a bed and the same woman…it was strange to think they had ever been at odds.

Now he was back, in one piece, seated across from the man. Neither really spoke for some time, as though they didn't know how to begin. Charon took his elbows off his knees, rubbing his hands together and pretending to take interest around the newly organized room that was Cross's office.

"It is…clean," he rasped with an approving nod.

Cross leaned back, sucking the air between his teeth. "Yeah, you know how she is."

Silence, and then, "It has been difficult."

Cross grunted, looking down at something invisible on his hand. "Yeah…you know how she is," he repeated lamely.

"You have not been having sex." It was so blunt and direct that it made Cross snarl. The merc didn't have a chance at defending his honor as Charon continued. "I did not last long."

Cross smothered a hand over his face, a disbelieving guffaw creeping from his throat. He'd seen the ghoul bury his dick in her countless times, but he still preferred not to think about the intimacy of it.

"She is due soon, is she not?"

Cross bellowed out a sigh, still peeved over the image of his wife getting stretched. "Month and a half, give or take."

"She has told me you have been…preoccupied." Charon addressed the hound haunting within him. "You believe you are capable of finding him before then?"

Cross stared down at the expanse of the Commonwealth on his desk. "I have to. I promised her."

"And if you don't?" Charon countered snidely.

That wasn't an option to be considered- he couldn't imagine the heartbreak she would suffer, the way she would be begging for him to be there in her most dire moments.

"Either way, I'll be here," Cross rasped with finality. He then reached down in a drawer, pulling out all of the relevant information on the bounty as he went over the most crucial points he had gathered during his absence.

"That is…" Charon rubbed at the stern line of his mouth, digesting all of the new intelligence on Sinjin and his activities across the Commonwealth. "Troubling."

"This ain't like before."

"No." Charon crossed his arms, looking down at the map and the assorted markers that signified different operations. "It seems to me he is trying his best to hide whatever it is he is doing."

"That's what you'd think." Cross leaned back in his seat, an opened folder in his right hand that he now tossed to the side. He'd reviewed it more than a handful of times, and the writing was still the same. "But he ain't hiding it good enough."

"He may be trying to lure you?"

"He is."

"Then it is an obvious trap."

"I know." Cross thumped his fist down on the arm of his chair a few times. "…he ain't tryin' to get to me…"

Charon slanted his eyes, the muscles in his jaw popping from the pressure he bit back. "When do you wish to leave? I suggest we do not wait for an unnecessary amount of time."

"I was goin' to leave that up to you…she really missed ya. Goin' to break her heart if you're out the door just as fast."

"I will talk with her," Charon said with absolute resolve.

"Peh. Good fuckin' luck. I've been doin' nothin' but talkin' since you've been gone. She don't budge, that's for damn sure."

Charon snorted, as though the notion highly amused him. "You will learn, someday."

"Cross." Lydia's voice snapped their heads around.

"What is it?" he rasped.

Lydia locked eyes with the ferryman. "Got some word in Goodneighbor, might be important." She folded her arms and leaned in the doorway. "Finally decided to show your ass back here, huh?"

Charon turned in his seat. "You shaved your hair."

Lydia cracked a wry grin and ran a palm over the stubble of her scalp. "You know how it gets. The days are getting too fucking hot."

Cross waved a hand for her to come inside. "What'd ya hear?"

The merc stepped inside his room, his nerves pulling taut from having to relay this new information to his wife. Evelyn turned with a paintbrush in hand, her hair up in a messy ponytail and an assortment of paint staining a large shirt she wore. The ghoul blinked at the images she had painted on the wall behind the bassinet. Some scraggly oversized leaves, squiggly vines, tall grass, and…something blotchy.

"It's…a lion," she said sheepishly, pointing with her free hand to the picture book lying open on the dresser. "At least, that's what it's supposed to be." She awkwardly looked away and back to the image, and then dipped her brush inside the can to continue with the details. Strong hands grabbed her butt through her shirt, and she squeaked as she dropped the dripping paint to splatter a huge mess on the floor. "Cross!"

He simply kissed her for minutes on end, twining and dancing his tongue around her own, over the roof of her mouth, across her lips. She embraced it with some breathy noises and her hands coming down to his zipper. He bit her lower lip and sucked it as he felt his stiff cock swing out and into her palms; there was so much beaded precum on the tip that it drew a shiver from his spine as she lubricated his entire shaft with it.

The sex was fast-paced and well-versed; her legs began to shake as he held on, still riding her from behind while she cried out his name and saw stars behind her eyes. His tipping point came quickly afterward, and when they finished and flopped down beside each other on the bed, breathing heavy and enjoying the crash of their high, she pointed to the yellow blob on the wall.

"See…?" she gasped. "His little whiskers…? His…" A huge draw of air in her lungs. "…his little paws?" She turned her head to the ghoul. "Do you know what a nose looks like, anymore?"

He laughed, deep and rich with a thick rasp that made her widely smile.

"C'mere baby," he chuckled, scooting himself closer to begin their make-out session all over again. "I get to paint the next one."

Charon came back to a completely different atmosphere all in the span of a couple of hours.

Both were naked, covered in flecks of paint and giggling as they swiped strokes of color along the wall. Evelyn turned, blowing a strand of hair from her nose.

"I found the wildebeest," she laughed with a stab of her paintbrush in the air at his face.

Cross grunted as he looked down at an open book. "…don't remember 'em being that ugly."

Charon assessed their work. He pointed at the yellow blob that had tiny black spots and stripes. "What is that?"

Evelyn gasped, terribly offended. "It's a lion!"

Charon shook his head and repointed his finger to the more artistic rendition on the other side. "That is a lion. I do not see the resemblance." He blinked at the way the merc fleshed out a zebra on the savannah plains. "I did not know you could paint."

"That's what I said!"

"Don't go tellin' the Commonwealth," Cross muttered under his breath.

"There…done." Evelyn set her brush in an empty can. Cross looked over and raised a brow muscle at her newest eldritch creation. She grew red as she defended her artwork with a nervous laugh. "It's a monkey!"

"It's a fuckin' nightmare."

"You're a nightmare."

"You're a nightmare," he mocked with a high pitch. "Kid's goin' to be glad those things don't actually exist."

"Oh yeah like his father is any better."

"Ouch." He flicked a glob of white paint at her leg, making her gasp in shock. He flicked another at her boob, for good measure…and one more at her belly; it was a big enough target.

"Cross, stop it!" She went to grab her means of retaliation before he swooped her up in his arms, spinning her around in a circle while he kissed her deeply. He set her back on her feet, and she smothered her smile in his chest. "…one more."

Charon watched them, and for once, without a burn of jealousy or straight annoyance; the usual twitch of his brow muscle was instead replaced with an inner contentment. A couple of taps against his chest snapped his focus back to reality.

Evelyn held up a brush and a page of a book. It was illustrated with faded pictures of animals from a long time past. "It's your turn."

"No."

"Oh, come on! It's for the baby!" She wiggled in place and puffed her lips in a pout. "Please?"

The ferryman grumbled, but took awkward hold of the paintbrush and slanted his eyes in concentration to the animal she was pointing at.

"A giraffe?" he rasped as he looked at her.

"Is that what this is?" she said earnestly with her head diving into the pages. "Yeah!"

Charon began to dab globs of paint on the wall in his designated spot, ignoring the cuddly couple exchanging kisses and whispered words to the side. When he was done, he stood back and considered his contribution to their nursery safari. Evelyn immediately burst into laughter.

It was a simple stick figure.

"What?" Charon asked with a pucker of irritation folding his brow muscles. "It is a giraffe, as you have asked."

His complete seriousness in the situation made her laugh even harder, and she wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.

The ghoul angrily tossed his brush in an empty can and crossed his arms, speaking curtly to his fellow man. "We should follow up on that information."

"Aw, Charon, I didn't mean to make you upset!" Evelyn giggled as she wormed one of his hands free and spun herself under his arm. "It's good!"

"I do not appreciate it when you lie to me," he rasped coldly.

"You are so cute!"

"I am not cute."

Cross sat on the edge of the bed as he began to hoist on his boots. "We're goin' to Goodneighbor, be back in an hour."

Evelyn immediately dropped her smile, silently watching as he fastened a knot in his laces. "I hate being left behind all the time," she confessed quietly.

The ghoul stood upright and nabbed at his shoulder holster hanging by his jacket. "You know it ain't forever." He shrugged it on and tightened the leather straps. His palm came to rest under her chin and tilt her face upwards. "When we get back, if you're feelin' up for it, we all could…?" He winked as she grew hot to the touch. "Yeah?"

"Hurry back," she said with a kiss on his wrist.

The 'VIP' room in The Third Rail was blockaded by a couple of unmoving ghoul sentries toting rifles across their chests. Cross mentally raised a brow muscle at the upgrade in firepower now belonging to his old client.

One held up a gloved palm before they could pass through. "Weapons."

The merc growled in warning. "You want to keep that fuckin' hand?"

"Let them inside you idiot!" A voice scathed from beyond the glow of the neon red light.

The ghoul sentry visibly soured, but stood back as they shouldered past. Cross took a seat on a sofa rich with smells of stale alcohol and cigarettes; Charon took his post beside him, silent but intimidating with a curl of a hard snarl on his mouth.

The merc sighed and leaned his head against the wall, staring at this woman he did not care to ever see again. "You goin' to tell me what I came here for, or waste my fuckin' time?"

"Is that any way to say hello to an old friend?" Jolene's painted lips curled into a roguish smile. "Of course, you didn't even use words, before...rumors gone around you have yourself a smoothskin for a wife." There was no hiding the jealous tinge to her raspy vocals. She tapped at her cigarette stick with a single finger, dispelling hot residue into an ashtray. "Man like you, I would figure you take every chance you had at showing her off, but no one's seen her for a long time. Did you chase her off so soon?"

Cross leaned forward, his ominous aura threatening. "We didn't come down here to talk about my wife. What the hell do you know about Sinjin?"

"Oh, this…and that." She fluttered a wink and made a show of puckering her mouth around her smoke for a drag. "I thought you were out of the mercenary trade…why so interested?"

"I'm not goin' to ask twice."

Jolene took another long inhale. "How about we discuss this somewhere more private? Reminisce like we used to in the old days." She paused to look him over like a hungry cat. "Get down to some real business."

"I'm married," he snarled.

"As was I, and yet that didn't stop you."

It never did. He'd fucked many a married woman for the sake of his own selfish desires- there had been something entirely exhilarating about it, at the time, plowing his cock into a spoken-for woman's flesh before her husband was any the wiser…although, a few had been around and watched.

There was a certain irony of having his own wife now being taken by another man, but he would be fooling himself into thinking it would have worked out any other way. Oh, if his past self could see him now, sharing the same bed night after night with his wife and her…lover wasn't a fair word. Damn Charon was as bound to him as his contract was, and he would have never foreseen it in a million years.

Jolene rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with a prissy attitude. "I get what I want, you get what you want, and we can all go home…and no one is left the wiser."

He wouldn't have given it a second thought just over a decade ago. She would've been smashed against the side of that dresser, the drawers rattling in beat with her moans. He wouldn't have cared who heard, or who came over to sneak a peek. He knew exactly what was under that dress she wore…and she'd tasted him more than a few times in the back of her throat. When he was reminded of times like these, he sometimes wondered what the hell Evelyn even saw in him…or why she fucking put up with it to begin with. He was going to lug a crate of fresh tarberries home (her most recent craving), just to put his own past guilt at ease.

"Fine, you want to talk." He stood from his seat, all business. "Let's talk." He halfway turned his head to address his companion. "Wait for me outside."

Charon flexed his muscles with a slow inhale, but he gave a single nod. "Very well."

Jolene curtly waved a hand in kind to her own bodyguards as a dismissal, leaving it extended for Cross to take to help her from her seat. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he did so.

She sidled up close, snaking a hand around his waist and attempting to speak seductively. "I have a room at the Rexford, let's make our way there. It's very private."

Jolene put an extra sway to her bony hips as he followed behind to her rented accommodations. More than a few eyes, some even smoothskins, watched her gracefully walk on by. Cross had to bite his tongue and not laugh aloud as he compared the obvious effort in seduction to his wife's little waddle she'd been plagued with lately; it was even more entertaining to watch Evelyn storm off in a blind fury…which only made her waddle a tad bit faster.

"Like what you see?" Jolene purred, the sound akin to glass being cut by concrete.

He had inadvertently been staring at her ass the entire trip, a huge grin on his face at the image of Evelyn hoofing it across the concourse like a plump molerat. Jolene opened her door, and they stepped inside.

"Drink?" She began to pour some liquid gold into two glasses. She cocked an eyebrow, the salvageable hair that wasn't singed away meticulously combed into a crisp arch. He didn't touch his drink. "If you're going to be such a bore then let's get down to it." She set down her own glass without so much as a single sip taken. Her fingers curled her hair up into the base of her scalp, and she turned her back to him to show the zipper of her dress. "I'm sure you remember how to do this part…try not to tear this one off, this time."

When nothing between them was happening, she dropped her black curls and spun around. Cross was sniffing the bottle of alcohol she had tempted him with. He gave her a bone-chilling glare as he waggled it at her.

"You forget the kind of man I am?" he rasped lowly.

She licked her painted lips, smearing some lipstick across her front teeth. "I-I didn't," she began desperately, her heels clicking the floorboards as she backed a step. "Cross, it wasn't my idea!"

"Oh, I know." He set the bottle down, and then fully faced her. "I know you ain't stupid enough to double-cross me." He cracked his knuckles into a solitary fist, and then pointed a single finger at her face. "I can leave you in this room with your head on backwards, with or without the name of the cunt ripped from your mouth. I don't care. I'll get that information, one way or another, I always do. But." He held the finger up. "You start playin' smart, cut the shit and tell me what I want to know, I might consider on lettin' you walk out of here, without havin' to carry your guts in a bag." He took a seat in the corner of the room, eerily calm. "You heard what I did to Jones and his boys, how I left those shithead Burner Brothers, you don't think I won't do the same to you?"

Jolene trembled in her place. "That-that night, on Fallon's-"

Cross leaned back, his face half-hidden by the dark shadows that cut through the room. "I'm goin' to give you three seconds to start talkin'."

"Cross, please-"

"One."