Ann Landis, that pickle-faced prude, was the cause of a lot of trouble that day, but particularly bad trouble for Calhoun. Her morals had been irksome before, in the Vault, but this time he wanted to throttle her. Because she'd eavesdropped, which was definitely something she shouldn't be practicing if she preached against it, she'd picked up on Calhoun's attempt to pursue Celia.

Ann marched Ed Landis into the big office, where Calhoun had set up his mayoral headquarters, once Ed had finished with the robots on the grounds. Sally, Mike, and Jason Knowles were out setting the robots into position while Calhoun rummaged through the office, inventorying what was available. Small piles of pencils, batteries, cigarettes and paper were on the desk, along with two small handguns and a handful of ammo.

"Overseer Calhoun," Ed said, apprehensively.

"Yes?" he asked, keeping his face neutral. He rifled through a drawer, distractedly.

"Uh..." Ed shot a look at his wife, who firmly pressed her lips together and stared at him. "I hear you've been, uh, showing interest in Celia," he said, slowly.

Calhoun slammed the drawer shut, narrowly missing a finger, and sat down behind the desk. "My best robot-disabler? Naturally," he said, and steepled his fingers. "She's done a lot for us, here."

Ed's face became a parade of emotions. "Ann says that it's more than just that."

Calhoun regarded the woman. Her face was pinched, her mouth so thin that it could have cut metal. She looked like she might implode. He tried to imagine what she would be like to have as an in-law, but shuddered mentally at the prospect. He looked back to Ed. "Is that a problem?" he asked, tilting his head.

"...No," Ed said, but sighed. "Ann thinks that it might be inappropriate, given your ages. We should observe propriety," he said, sounding for all the world like he was making a practiced speech, "and not fall into the ill-kept ways of the wastelanders."

Calhoun leaned his elbows onto the desk, placing his palms down. "Are you implying that I would take advantage of your sister?" he asked, coldly.

"No, no!" Ed said, embarrassed. He waved his hands at the thought. "Just that, well... If you do intend to continue, then it needs to be straight-forward and less secretive."

"Celia is an adult," Calhoun said. "She just had her eighteenth birthday, as I recall. I am also an adult, albiet an older one. No matter what you, or others, may think, she's capable of making her own decisions. Are you worried that I might show favoritism to her over others, or otherwise doom the group to failure because of affection?"

"No, sir," Ed said, firmly. "Just that things are done properly. Ann feels that Celia is much too immature to handle the expectations of marriage right now."

Calhoun would have laughed if not for Ann's terrible face. Certainly the truth, he thought. "I am content to wait," he said. He leaned back in the chair and gave a strange little half-smile. "I may be waiting for a long time, though."

Ed laughed, a little chuckle of agreement. Ann elbowed him. "You leave her be, until she's ready," she said, coolly.

"I will, Ann."

Calhoun waited until the two had left and walked away from the door before letting loose a stream of obscenities. He no longer felt confident about his plans for the future, with Pesaro and Mike curtailing his ideas left and right. Now this, on top of it all?

It would take him ages to talk the girl into going with him, at this rate. The thought of his forty-second birthday approaching made that even more pressing an issue. Even if he was older―hell, even if he was her own age―she wouldn't be easy to sweet-talk. He might die before she was ready.

He smacked himself in the forehead, and ran his hand down his face, then kicked his feet up on the desk and leaned back in the chair, until he was almost falling over. A knock on the door brought him back to rights.

"Come in!"

Mike Rind reported on the patrols. All the robots were keeping the peace where they had been, so were returned to their starting positions. "There's two patrolling the bunkhouses, against each other, and the rest scattered through the courtyard," he said. "Joel is out fixing up the fences and walls with scrap metal and concrete slabs. The Hollises are out looking at the ground, trying to find the best spot to begin groundbreaking for the farm." He pinched his nose shut, and laughed. "Thomas Knowles is digging what he called a cesspool. Said something about night soil."

"Good man!" Calhoun said. "Jim and Gus?"

"Clearing debris from the buildings. The Easton girls are gathering up everything loose that we can sell for food or medicine. I warned them not to get excited about it. Susan found a Nuka-Cola stuffed in behind some boxes and drank it." Mike rolled his eyes. "Probably been there for one hundred and sixty years."

Calhoun sighed. "Have them bring it to the mess hall for sorting," he said. "We'll use our Pip-Boys to inventory." He pushed a pencil back to its mates on the desk. "Jacob?"

"Organizing enough beds for the bunkhouses, so we can sleep on-site." Mike turned to the door as another knock came.

"Free to talk?" Celia asked, poking her head in.

As much as he would have loved to kick Mike out for a moment, Calhoun couldn't afford to get on Ann Landis' bad side. She was gossipy enough to ruin him in three words. He could still strike out at her without looking improper. "Not right now," he said. "Do me a favor, and tell your sister-in-law that I want her to assist Thomas Knowles."

Mike snickered and covered it with a cough. "Can do," she said, and left, shutting the door quietly.

"She needs to be knocked off that high horse," Calhoun said, by way of explanation.

"Ann Landis is the worst at everything she does," Mike said. "Did you know, she was cleaning up the kitchen, then sat down and didn't get back up? I got to hear Sally on a tirade about it." He chuckled. "Ann will eat you alive for this one."

"Did anyone find any more of those pulse grenades?" Calhoun asked, changing the subject.

"I think so," Mike said. "I'm still waiting on the girls to get back to me when they find ammunition or guns. Sharon said there was a pile of munitions in one of the boxes down by the west wall, though. I told her to let it be for now."

"I found this in the bottom drawer of the desk," Calhoun said, thumping down a book. "In Case of Emergency," he read. "There's directions in here for manually disabling the Gutsy and Protectron models, and it mentions the pulse grenade will force robots into a shutdown state."

"Destroys it?"

"I think it fries the circuitry," Calhoun said.

"That would be awful, if you want to keep the sentry bot," Mike said.

"I'd rather we could sleep in peace than have a rogue bot around. Benjamin is on guard, still?"

"Says he can hear it in there, scuttling around. Wants to take a break." Mike looked up at the wall behind Calhoun, the only thing separating them from the robot.

"Take this pile of stuff out to the mess hall, for me, would you?" Calhoun gestured at the desk. "And send Celia down to Benjamin."

"You really want her on guard?" Mike asked.

"No, no," Calhoun said. "I'm going to take over for Benjamin, and she wanted to talk, so..." He threw his palms up. "Oh, one more thing," he added. "Are the ghouls still on the base?"

"I think they were out with Celia on the wall," Mike said, "but Sally sent them back up to the mess, and I didn't see them anywhere. Lionel seems to follow Celia around when she's out and about, though."

Calhoun nodded. "I'm aware. Have someone tell them thank you, but we don't need their help today. I'll talk to Lionel later about payment." He stood, stretched, and strode to the door. "After you, Mike."