"Ow. Ow. Head! Ow. Too many 'ows' in one day." Cort sat up from where she had landed on the floor and rubbed her temples, then wiggled a finger in her left ear. It felt like a shot had gone off next to it. She tilted her head up to apologize and stared.

"I'm sorry! I was coming around to clean up the glass that broke. Please don't hit me!" The ghoul she had slammed into was already curling into a fetal position as if he expected a punch in the head. Cort couldn't remember the last time she saw something so pathetic, excluding herself, and any anger she'd had over the collision ran out of her. Moira was right, they didn't look that bad, really. Her father had gone over anatomy in detail along with a lot of other things, and she didn't remember seeing anything worse on the illustration plates in her books. He certainly didn't smell any worse than she had earlier. It was like dried leather and funky copper. He had no nose, or ears, shiny chalked out eyes, and there was skin missing all over, but he had some hair left.

"What the heck's happened to you?" she asked, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible with a ringing ear.

"I'm, I'm a ghoul. I'm sorry I touched you, struck you, knocked you over, oh God." He clamped his arms even tighter over his head and Cort winced. She scrambled to her feet and held her arms out.

"Not what I meant. Come on, uncurl and I'll help you up. It wasn't your fault, I turned before I looked." The ghoul lifted one of his arms and looked at her like she was crazy. Well, not there yet, Cort thought. She wiggled her fingers and crouched lower, trying to look non-threatening. "Come on, uspy-daisy, lazy." He unfurled further and tentatively reached his hands out. Cort grabbed them immediately before he could change his mind and hauled him up, then snaked a foot back and pulled the waste bin over. "There. No harm, no foul." She watched him grab the bin and retreat behind the bar, then swung herself up on one of the empty stools, pointedly ignoring the stares she was getting from around the room.

The ghoul finished his tidying job and looked at her appraisingly. "You're pretty nice for a smoothskin. Usually I get hit just for lookin' at them, not to mention bowling one over." His voice still sounded like it was coming through a rock tumbler, but it was steadier now. Whatever fit he was having must have dissipated when she made it clear she wasn't going to abuse him. Cort felt sick. What kind of asshole could engender that kind of terrified response to a random, very much smaller, stranger?

"Smoothski-? Oh, I get it. No problems. Like I said, I wasn't looking where I was headed. Is Mr. Moriarty here? I need to talk to him." Cort watched his eyes widen. Oh. A particular asshole then. Looking around nonchalantly she caught a few sneers and decided maybe more than one. She considered starting a pissing match over it, and grudgingly dismissed the notion. She still had next to no idea what she was doing out here even with Moira's eclectic lessons, and she needed any advantage she could get. Combined with Sheriff Simms warning about Moriarty, the ghoul's behaviour gave her an idea she might be jumping into the deep end with lead weights stuffed in her bra. She couldn't afford to be chivalrous for him, kind as he looked. There was a moment to be disgusted with herself before he replied.

"He's outside. White hair, beard. Wearing black leather and a white shirt. What do you want to see him for?" he rasped out. Cort remembered the older man she had passed on the way in.

"I'm looking for my father. He left our Vault about 4-5 days ago. Looks kinda like me, tall guy, beard, wearing something similar, has one of these on his wrist. Sheriff Simms said he was in here talking to Moriarty."

"He was here." His cloudy eyes flicked over her shoulder to the door and back. "He left the same day, after talking for a long time. I didn't hear what, they were quiet and I know better than to get too close."

The door was slammed open at that point and the subject of discussion swaggered back in with quite possibly the lousiest Irish accent Cort had ever heard. "Gob! I don't pay you to run your gob, I pay you to serve the customers. Now stop yapping and get serving."

Very, very quietly, Cort heard "You don't pay me anything" before the ghoul - Gob, wheedled out a louder "Yes Mr. Moriarty. This lady would like to speak to you. I was just telling her where you were."

"And I'm sure that's all that was coming out of you. Now who might you be to want to - Sweet Mary and Bride. It's the little brat."

"Hey!" Cort spat out, insulted. "Nice to meet you too! Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well you're just the spitting image of your father. Imagine my surprise when I saw him coming through the door again. Although I suppose it makes sense that you're here since you came together in the first place. But not together now, are we?"

"What are you talking about? We were both born in a Vault." She had a sinking feeling in her gut before the words were entirely out of her mouth. With the way things had been going and the information she'd been able to discover, it wasn't hard to believe that her father had left out a few more salient facts before abandoning her. It didn't knock the stuffing out of her any less with the knowledge, somehow only making it worse.

"Oh is that what he told you? The tales we tell our children. Look, I should know you when I see you, you both stayed here before he managed to finagle a place into that hole in the ground. That and you're the very spitting image, if shorter and more well endowed." Moriarty placed an arm against the bar and leaned over her. Cort realized it was to intimidate her, but wasn't in a settled enough frame of mind for it not to work.

"I don't..but he...it was.." She shoved every question concerning itself with her past violently out of her mind and focused on what she needed to know now. "Do you know where he went?"

"Oh I surely do. We had a nice long chat, his immediate plans included, and I'm sure you'd love to know. You'll just have to run me a little errand first to find out."

"WHAT? Does anyone out here do anything without something up front?"

"Short answer, no. Look it's a simple little job, all you have to do is find a former employee of mine, Silver by name. She reneiged on her contract and owes me a bunch of caps because of it. I just need you to go and get them back. 100 little caps. Come back without them and it'll be 300 to find out where James swanned off to." Moriarty smiled and Cort felt disoriented and sick. "I don't care how you do it, kill her, kiss her, no mind to me. Bring me that money back and you can go on your merry little way to dear old Dad."

"But.." Cort stammered again. She was starting to hiccup.

"No buts. Old Colin has you over a barrel. GOB! Give the poor girl a glass of water. On the house, even." Cort took it and gulped to shut herself up. Irradiated. Great. She tightened her hands, made what sounded like another quiet hic, and kept listening to the corner she was getting painted into. "You come back to me when you've managed to get ahold of it, and I tell you where dear old Dad was headed. Last I heard, Silver was heading North. See you when you get back! So Nova, dear, we need to have a word..." Cort put the glass down as Moriarty swung around the corner of the bar towards the redheaded woman against the side wall and stared at his back before stalking out the door. She didn't spare anyone else a glance, and therefore missed Gob trying desperately to get her attention as inconspicously as he could.


"Nother whiskey, rotbag." Gob turned to face the scruffy balding man at the far end of the bar and mentally went over the reasons why he hated his life. "Make it snappy."

"Caps on the bar first, Jericho, before the boy gives you anything." Moriarty snarked at him. "You're not running up your tab any more than it is."

Jericho slapped a handful of caps on the bar and grabbed the glass before Gob could set it down, carefully avoiding skin contact. "So why not get her over a real barrel Colin? Something that pretty, hell that clean..." Jericho slurred.

"Are you insane? Don't answer that, I know what you've been up to, bucko. The only reason that idiot Simms lets you stay is that you're good in a fight." Jericho scowled and buried his nose back in his glass. "Her father may be a do-gooding loon, but he's a dangerous do-gooding loon. Him finding out I manipulated his darling girl into running a job goes as par for the course. Finding out I did or even tried that; weeelll. Colin'd be singing soprano before he was singing with the blessed angels, mission for humanity or no. Wouldn't matter who I was or knew. She might not have been raised out here, but he was and he thrived." Moriarty looked at his front door and smirked. "Girlie hasn't a clue about anything including dear old Dad, it seems. Or anything in common."

Gob looked up and said nothing, and probably wouldn't have even if he wasn't worried about getting cuffed in the head. He just quietly wiped down the bar and hid Cort's glass under the counter in the back. The heavy base had been shattered in two.


And this is why Cort found herself on her arse again on the third day in a row. She was furious with her father, furious with Moriarty, and furious with herself for being gutless and rolling over when she found out there was something else James hadn't told her. She shouldn't even have been surprised at this point considering the amount of crap she'd gone through, but then hindsight was 20/20.

Looking at her house, she considered going back in and getting more purified water from Wadsworth before setting out, but she was fairly certain that would degenerate into her collapsing on the floor again once she made it inside. She felt if she kept busy she could prevent any more alarming emotional breaks. Besides, she could make her first venture out a short trip and her Rad level wasn't that high; she could save the stuff from Wadsworth for a longer expedition and make do with the water Moira said she could find out there. Even if she didn't find Silver, she might find more useful things to use or sell to Moira in the town she saw coming down from the Vault.

She patted her belongings to make sure they were all in place, checked the safety on her pistol and headed for the gate.