Celia slowly walked back to the common house. She dreaded the reception she would get. She would probably get eaten alive by her sister-in-law. Ann seemed to think it was her job to make Celia a more productive member of society, teach her the manners she thought Celia lacked, and otherwise interfere in her life like a nosey parker.

Worse than having an enemy! She was like the mother Celia never had. Or wanted.

"You rotten girl!" Ann said, stopping her before she entered the common house. "Ed worried about you all night!"

"You didn't, I'm sure," Celia said, snidely, and kept walking as Ann stood with her mouth open. She adjusted her outfit and smoothed her hair back, then opened the door and went inside.

Calhoun spotted her first. He pulled her by an arm to a corner and pointed his finger at her. "We need everyone here, Celia," he said, chidingly. "Can't you try to play along, for once?"

She shrugged, looked away. "I guess."

His face softened, then, and he leaned forward a little. "Look..." He paused and rubbed his chin with a strange look on his face. "Ed isn't the only person who worries about you, you know."

He abruptly walked away, leaving her startled and confused.

Before she had time to comprehend, her brother found her and she was crushed in an awkward half-hug-half-grapple. Her apologies weren't much salve on Ed's wounded pride as he explained to her she couldn't just run off like that. She listened patiently, but didn't say much about it. I'll do what I want, thank you, she thought. I'm old enough. I'm grown-up, now.

She rolled her eyes at his lecture, trying to be patient. After, Ed told her about the plan to scout the military base. "Scouting and disarming?" she asked. "What about all the things out there? The creatures?"

Calhoun jerked a thumb over his shoulder, toward the door. "Mayor Rowland tells me that there are mercenary crews who sweep for creatures, out in the wastes. We shouldn't have to worry about that." He looked up from his Pip-Boy, meeting her muddy eyes with his shining black ones.

She looked away, feeling blood rise into her cheeks. His words ran through her head again, causing her to full-out blush. She breathed carefully, trying to figure out what the heck was wrong with her.

"Your job would be to sneak around and try to disable the robots," Ed said. "Report on how many there are at the base, take them down if possible, but don't take risks. These aren't robot invaders from Mars."

"You remember too well," she said, grumpily. She'd gotten into so much trouble for her childhood exploits. This time, though, it wouldn't be pretend. Celia wasn't dumb enough to think that.

"Mike went back to pick up a few things from the Vault," Calhoun put in. "When he gets back, you get that Mister Handy specification manual and you figure out how to disable them without getting shot."

"The base should have power, if the robots are up and moving. If we can get to the maintenance wing, Mike will force a site-wide shut down of the bots," Ed added. "Then we'll collect and reprogram them."

"If Mike can come up with some ingenious wiring solutions," Officer Pesaro said. Celia jumped, startled. She hadn't seen him standing there. Pesaro had always scared her a little, since he only showed up around her when she was in trouble.

Just like the time she'd disabled the robots. She made a face. He'd nearly made her pee her pants, coming up on her while she was "fighting" off the "invaders" in the clinic at the Vault. She shot the security officer a nervous glance out of the corner of her eye.

"First, though, you should all observe the layout of the buildings, so no one gets cornered. Don't go anywhere alone." Calhoun unlatched his Pip-Boy and waved to the room. "I think we ought to sell our Pip-Boys. We need caps for weapons."

The room filled with noise, outraged cries and a few surprised "What?" yelps. Celia moved away, sitting down in a corner. She felt a little sick to her stomach from nerves. She'd never been important enough to include in major plans like this, before.

No one paid her any attention, and she was grateful for that. Gave her time to think about what was going on.

What the heck did Calhoun mean by that remark? She mused to herself, hand in her chin. She was pretty sure he'd just declared his feelings for her in a subtle way. Calhoun was too svelte to come straight out and say what he meant. She sighed. She knew he'd been married once, about twelve or so years ago. Celia didn't remember his wife, at all. Since her death, the young people of the Vault had assumed that he was not "into" women. He'd never remarried.

If this had been any of the boys her own age, she would have given them a straight, "No, thank you." She steeled herself. She didn't want that kind of attention, not from Calhoun, not from anyone. Didn't need it, it only confused her.

The group argued about selling their Pip-Boys, but eventually decided that anyone who wasn't using theirs could choose whether or not to sell them. Celia kept hers. It had too many interesting stories on it for her to give up. Plus, she was going on the scouting mission, she'd probably need it.

Later, Celia was handed a heavy pistol. She'd tried to refuse, but Pesaro said she was going with the scouts, and she would be armed. She got the feeling that she couldn't argue. She sat with it in her lap, weighing down her legs. Didn't like the thought that she might have to shoot something.

"Come on, Celia," Calhoun said, extending a hand to her. "Let's go practice. You've never held a gun before, right?"

She shook her head, and nervously followed him outside. A few of the young men had gathered up various bits of trash and lined the tin cans and bottles in a row for targets along the town dump. Pesaro examined everyone's weapon, showed them how to set the safety on and off, instructed them on how to securely hold the pistols and rifles, and finally ordered them to practice.

Shots echoed out for a few minutes. No one got shot, but a few pinched fingers were had. Celia ended up flat on her ass, at least once. "Can't I just get a baseball bat or something?" she asked, roughly. The pistol had a surprising kick and she wasn't used to it yet.

Calhoun winked at her, watching from the sidelines. "I'll see what I can do."

"Never mind," she said, and looked away. Oh, why?

"You weren't that bad," he said, following her back to the common house once the practice was over. "Shouldn't look so down in the dumps. We just came from there." A smile twitched on his face.

She ignored him and moved away, finding a corner of the room to sit in. If this had been the Vault, she would have packed enough lunches for three or four days and disappeared into the maintenance wing. She couldn't do that, here. Probably get stung by a bloatfly again, she grumbled to herself.

We all need a place to go, she thought. Being this close together... we're only going to drive each other mad. I might have to go back to the Vault just to get him to stop chasing me.

She shot the Overseer a glance and saw him watching her with that funny little smile on his face. Quickly, she looked away again and flushed. It was embarrassing to have so much attention heaped on her, all of a sudden. She really did want to run away, get the heck out of town.

She wouldn't, though. She was too scared to face the wastes alone, again.