Note: Edited for content, replaced and updated some dialogue.

Lillie had sobered up, some. Jericho watched her with a tired eye, minding her having that fit outside of the big-ass fort. She'd hit him pretty fucking hard out there, nothing he couldn't handle, but hell―

Wanted to feel sorry for her, but couldn't. Wasn't in his nature to be sympathetic about stupid shit like that. Girl shoulda known something was gonna happen like that, her dad and that asshole in the long coat being killed. No one played a big game like hers without killing a lot of people.

Plus, he was pretty sure her dad did that shit on purpose. Killing himself. All bleeding heart, trying to keep Lillie out of trouble and saving the day. She'd had it real good, with him around. Right up till he did that.

Guessed she'd figured all that out on her own, though. Went from bawling to sharp knife, in a flat second. And the radio wasn't working no more, to keep them Enclave fucks from seeing what she saw.

He smoked another cigarette, feeling the pain in his chest from too many already, knowing what was gonna happen next. Not even because she told him, but because he'd seen that kind of shit before. First thing little girls did when shit got real―

Cried, screamed, shut down, then got mad. Real fucking mad, too, the kind of mad you got when you didn't care about living no more. When you figured you were gonna die anyway, so why not take it out on everyone in your way.

Jericho grinned, remembering. Back in the day, he'd been the one making that happen. Rounding up little girls for the slavers meant being on your toes, watching for sneaky shit. Some of them girls fought like they were about to get eaten by a goddamn Deathclaw. It was fun beating the little shits, but he'd never been good at keeping the "merchandise" intact.

Never run across any other little girl who was as good as Lillie at taking out a threat, though. She was about as good at fucking up people as she was at talking smart.

Which meant she was real fucking good at it. Probably woulda killed his ass, already, if she hadn't needed him.

Jericho didn't want to be on the business end of her attacks, no more. Did his time already for that shit. What came next was up to her, and he was minding his fucking manners.

"We need to tie up loose ends," Lillie told him. "There's... someone I need to deal with. Knows too much about me."

She'd been talking with the old asshole in a dress for thirty minutes or so, and he'd ignored the whole thing. Kicked himself in the head, here he was wanting to be in on the plans. Being stupid. "Yeah, who's that," he asked, glancing back at the Brotherhoods assholes.

"We're going west," she said, and started walking away. "You'll like this part, I promise."

He perked up a little, then. "Like it, huh," he muttered, dropping the cigarette and walking with her to the exit. When she said shit like that...

"Did you know," she murmured, as they were leaving the place, "Moriarty called you a blubbering old drunkard?"

"Fuck Moriarty," he spat. Shit, that Irish fuck had almost as many fancy words as Lillie did―him and his goddamn speeches.

"Let's," she said, soberly.

Hell, she was right. He was gonna like this part. Jericho grinned at her, propping his rifle on his shoulder as they started west.

He decided the plan. Told her Moriarty should see what was coming. He'd never let no one die that easy. The Irish fuck had to die.

Her reasoning behind it was sound, though. Moriarty knew too much. "He could, if he chose, make up anything he wanted about me. I trust you Jericho. You won't sell me out for a handful of caps."

"You'll kill me, either way," Jericho muttered, under his breath. He knew it was gonna happen. She needed to cut her teeth on something better than his old ass, though.

"So Moriarty has to go," Lillie said, frowning.

What Jericho wanted to do was what the raiders wanted to do to him ever since he'd bugged out of the Mills, back in the day. Lot of torture, some taunting, maybe a souvenir or two. Something to remember him by. Jericho looked around, paranoid. Started playing with his knife. Threw it at a rotting stump, and grunted in satisfaction when it hit dead center.

"You're saying we should let him have a word in, edgewise," she said, slowly.

"That bastard loves to talk," he muttered, moving to pull the knife out of the tree. "Needs to know he's about to die." He gestured at her with the knife then spat to the side, pulling his hand back.

"Like you know you're gonna die?" she asked, quietly.

"Fuck off!" he snarled, holding up the knife and glaring at her. Poking at him about that coughing blood shit, again―

She only smiled, amused at him. She was sitting loosely on a nearby rock, letting her legs dangle. Reminded him again, of those pretty little smiles she used to give him. Her playing all cutesy and being all nasty about getting results. That shit was lost when her daddy showed up.

She hadn't given him a good smile like that in a long time, either. He'd missed it. Jericho shot her a pissed-off look, but couldn't keep it up. Ended up with a shit-eating grin on his face, which made her smile widen. Worth it, who cared. His head started to swell up again, like it had back then.

She was gonna get that shit back, tonight. He'd make sure of it.

"It's really pretty out here," she said, softly. Looked up at the overpass, over their heads. The moon was rising in the distance. "Nice for traveling."

That was probably a hint that she didn't need his help, or something. He bristled at that, but calmed himself down. "Listen," he started, tightening his grip on the knife. "I ain't going nowhere, kid."

"I know," she said, looking back down at him. Her smile faded.

"It ain't about the money, no more," he said, feeling the pain in his lungs again. "But one last fuckin' hurrah would be nice. Make like the old days, but just you and me."

She fixed him with a resigned look. "Whatever you want, Jericho," she said, sounding sincere.

There was that honest shit again. Jericho sighed. "You gonna learn to lie, you gotta stop being so goddamn truthful," he said, sheathing the knife.

"I know," she repeated, and drew her legs up to her chest. "I'm trying."

He pushed himself up, stretched, and spat onto the ground. Didn't want her back in the bawling shit, again. Wouldn't do either one of them any good.

"C'mon, kid," he said, crooking a finger at her. "Let's go stir up shit."

The lock opened easily under Lillie's hands. Jericho stood behind her, watching, as she pulled out two combat knives and held them with the blades pointed downward. He nodded, and she kicked the door in.

Moriarty was sitting at the computer, as always. He didn't have much time to react before Lillie stabbed downward into both of his shoulders, using the knives to pull him off the chair. She moved around to pin him to the floor, straddling him at the waist and twisting her knives.

The Irishman lifted his arms to grab at her, yelling in pain. Jericho jammed his rifle barrel into the asshole's face, pointedly.

"Listen up, cocksucker!" he said, borrowing the Irish fuck's line. He grinned at the look on Moriarty's face, the mixture of anger and fear that spread across. "We're gonna have a friendly conversation, ain't we?"

Moriarty's eyes moved to Lillie, sitting atop him with both hands clenched around the knives. He set his mouth and stared at her, the fear gone and replaced with determination. "Aye," he said, breathing slowly. "What's going on, little flower?"

"Business, Mr. Moriarty," she answered, staring at him with no trace of emotion in her face. "That's all."

"Your business manner leaves something to be desired, love," Moriarty said, wincing as he moved and the knives didn't.

"Doesn't it, though?" she asked, blandly. Jericho laughed, couldn't help it. Seeing her sitting on the Irish fuck like that, he remembered why he'd wanted to get back out in the wastes.

That sort of shit made him think like a dirty old man, again. Been a while since he'd thought like that. Liked her too much to fuck up this thing they had going, to do something that stupid. Moriarty's warning about wax cats and hell came to mind.

She'd probably stab him, if he tried. That made his smile feel dumb. Stupid little girls, what could you do.

"I should've stabbed you in the head," she hissed at the Irishman, her attitude switching from empty to angry in a flash. "Siccing Jericho on me like that―for the sake of information?"

Moriarty grunted in pain, breathing as best he could under her. "You know the game as well as I do," he grumbled. His hand twitched on the floor and Jericho shoved the rifle into his forehead painfully. "You get what you pay for―"

"I guess that was money poorly spent, wasn't it," she told him, leaning forward a little to get into his face. "Since the whole wasteland knows what I'm doing, if they listen to GNR."

Moriarty jerked his head down by an inch and stared at her. "Aye, love. Not every plan goes somewhere." He made a pained face and sighed. "What can I do for you today?"

"This?" she asked, turning the knives in his shoulders slightly to produce a loud groan of pain. "This is loose ends. I can't have people in the know about me."

Jericho snickered as blood pooled under the Irishman's shoulders, soaking into his shirt. "Lass," Moriarty breathed. "You know I don't know―"

"I know you'd sell my story to half the population of Megaton for a sackful of caps," she said, leaning back onto him. "Might even make up a little theory about where I came from."

"You do know the game," he said, going very still underneath her. "What's your move, then, lass?"

"Dead men don't need caps, Mr. Moriarty." Lillie stared at him, her hands tightening on her knives.

"God Almighty," Moriarty muttered, closing his eyes. Jericho laughed, unable to stop himself. Waited for her to do the deed.

But she didn't make any motion to move. Instead, she looked up at Jericho like she was confused. He curled one side of his mouth up into a nasty smile. "It's your turn, kid," he said. "You got this."

She stared at him with a weird face. "But I've never," she said, sounding worried, and he groaned to himself.

Moriarty opened his eyes and gave her a critical look. "Lass, I won't hold this―this little revenge of yours, against you," he said, carefully. "We're two of the same, you know."

Lillie kept her eyes on Jericho, who stared right back at her. She knew perfectly well the plan was gonna include murder. Couldn't afford to back out, now. This shit she was pulling―hesitating―this was gonna cost her more than her fucking morality if she didn't follow through. Moriarty could tell she didn't want to, and he was gonna try to talk his way out of it with his fancy words.

Moriarty wasn't gonna beg, either. Jericho didn't think the man would, but he'd gotten his hopes up. "Kid," he snarled. Not even a warning, but a threat. He moved his rifle away from the man's head, taking away the surety of the situation. Held his hands up, rifle pointed at the ceiling, and glared at her.

She pouted, drawing her eyebrows together. "Jericho―" she started, but was interrupted by the Irishman.

"Listen, now, lass," Moriarty was saying. "I know you like to play a little rough..." Trying to distract her, make her confused. She should know better than to let the asshole have a foothold.

Lillie twisted the knives again, still staring at Jericho. Moriarty made another agonized yell and started breathing faster, finally panicking. He spat out a few more words, his voice gone all wobbly from the loss of blood.

"Leave me with no choice, little flower," he mumbled. He drew a deep breath and yelled, "Gob!"

Lillie's eyes fell to Moriarty's, a furious look on her face. "I warned you!" she growled, pulling the knives from his shoulders in a spray of blood. Moriarty yelled out again, calling for Gob―but she stopped him from making any coherent words in a quick motion. She slammed her knives into his face, grunting with the effort.

Right in the eyes, hah! Jericho moved backward, grinning maliciously. Lillie lifted her arms and let go of the knives, her face spattered with blood. She shuddered, once, then dropped her hands to her sides. Stared at Moriarty, who was making a shit-ton of godawful noise and thrashing under her, with a horrified look on her face.

After a moment Jericho lifted his foot and brought it down on the hilts of the knives, just to shut him the fuck up.