"Only once," Molly said.

"Really, only once?" he replied, raising one dark eyebrow.

"Yeah, I mean, no need for giant pumpkin to fire a gun is there? Especially given she could shoot someone in the foot." She gave him a nervous laugh and averted her gaze from his inky dark brown eyes.

"It's Halloween. And Thanksgiving in a couple of weeks. It's a very dangerous time for pumpkins. Especially human sized ones," he said without a smile. "Obviously you're not a pumpkin to be messed with, with or without a gun."

"I don't know about that." She gave him a broad smile.

"I hope you're enjoying the party then." He rubbed at his chin that showed the ragged beginnings of a beard on a sun tanned face. He held his cup up. "Excuse me." He walked over towards the punch bowl and towards Martina, the pretty blonde with the model good looks.

Molly frowned, she didn't wait to see if he stopped. Men always stopped for Martina. She walked into the kitchen where her two friends, Karen and Davina were laughing and giggling.

They turned to her and saw her disappointed smile. "Oh, Molly. What happened?" Her friend Karen grimaced and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Crashed and burned. What do you expect wearing this?" Molly ran her hand over the bright orange fabric and tapped on the brim of the matching orange top hat.

"Hey, you're a sexy pumpkin, you have the legs for it. Besides you left it to the last minute to say yes to coming, you're lucky you didn't get the shapeless can of beer costume Hetty's now wearing." Karen pointed to Hetty Jarvis standing in the corner chatting with one of the party hosts.

"This is pretty shapeless, guys." She looked down at her legs. "I do have the legs for it though don't I? Just the orange, with my complexion."

"You do, and you have gorgeous coloring Molly. I'm envious; at least you don't look like a mouse." Davina said and pulled at a strand of her hair. "I need to blonde up a bit."

"And as long as you didn't tell him that stupid gun story-" Molly held out her hands in a plaintive manner as Karen stared at her. "No. Molly." Karen shook her head.

"You didn't?" Davina said.

Molly nodded, and grabbed a bottle of vodka sitting on a nearby counter and filled her cup close to the brim. "What was I supposed to say? We were talking about being in the military and naturally, the topic of guns came up. He asked me what guns I preferred."

"You lie, Molly. C'mon." Karen rubbed a hand across her forehead and then motioned them back into the crowded living room

"I'm not very good at lying. Anyway-" She contemplated the overfilled cup before downing half of it. The medicine like liquor burned as it slipped easily down her throat. She closed her eyes until the sting of it passed and followed the group into the living room. "Perhaps I should just go home."

"No, you don't, there's at least five other soldier boys here, one maybe a bit younger and not so bothered by silly stories. Have a bit of fun. Martina can't get her talons into all of them." Davina said as she beckoned a sandy haired man dressed as a skeleton over.

"I think it's a pretty funny story." Molly pouted and crossed her arms.

"To a soldier? I don't think so. I mean they're pretty serious about that side of things," Davina said.

"Hello ladies, enjoying the party?" the sandy haired man said.

"How do you know so many soldiers, Keith?" Karen asked.

"I've ingratiated myself with Boston Municipal infantry. I intend joining up myself now I'm 21. You know even if you were never a cadet they will take you, and they're looking for recruits." He pointed to each of them. "You lot, they're looking for both men and women." He frowned at Molly. "Except- you need to be a good shot."

"Oh haa haa, Keith." Molly gave him a fake smile.

"Hey, I thought you didn't mind being ribbed on that?"

"Molly just nosedived telling that story to one on your soldier friends." Karen said.

"You didn't? Which one?" Keith looked around.

Molly pointed to the man not in dress up, he wore jeans and a pale blue t-shirt and he was talking to two other men without costumes. Martina was nowhere to be seen. "That's the guy."

Keith looked over. "That's- Neill I think. Nice guy, really nice, friend of Mitch's." Keith pointed to Mitch Hollingway who was dressed as a devil. "He ditched you, Molly?"

She nodded. "Obviously he didn't find my first time holding a gun story anywhere near as hilarious as others seem to find it." She elbowed Keith in the side. "Anyway, how old is he?"

"Twenty eight or nine I think. Uh-oh, I think he's checking your butt out Molly." Keith laughed.

Molly turned to see him glance in her direction but then back to one of the men speaking. "Oh he is not." She slapped Keith on the side of the arm.

"Ah just as well, that's like 7 year age gap," Davina said. "Looks a bit scruffy too."

Molly didn't think either of those mattered. Age was always a state of mind not an actual number. People often said she had an old head on her shoulders, but she had never dated an older guy and the thought that she might be the subject of gossip about it was the only thing that turned her off the idea.

"That's nothing, I mean women are supposed to be more mature than guys." Karen said.

"Hey, I'm standing right here." Keith said and frowned.

"Not you sweetie." Davina kissed his cheek.

"Anyway, in dog years it's only one year," Keith added.

"And who's the dog in this scenario?" Karen asked her hands now on her hips.

Molly put her hand on Karen's arm and began to laugh. She stared at the rapidly dwindling liquid in her cup and took a swig.

"You never said whether your Dad was okay," a voice said from behind her. Molly sputtered as everyone turned to look at the man known as Neill then to Molly.

Karen, Davina and Keith looked to one another and stepped back. Molly wiped her mouth, and laughed. "Ahh yeah, he was okay, his foot was a bit of a mess for a while but nothing permanent. We laughed about it a lot - after."

"Good." This time he smiled when he replied.

Karen, Davina and Keith discreetly moved away and began to talk in their own circle.

"He never took me to the firing range again though." She stared into his eyes. She resisted the sudden alcohol fuelled urge to run her hands through his scruffy dark hair. The fact he came back to her after she thought he had slighted her was enough to quicken her pulse. "We were talking before, I didn't tell you my name, it's Molly."

He extended his hand. "That was rude of me. Nice to meet you, Molly. I'm Nate, Nate Gould."

Molly stood back and took a deep breath. "So this is it?"

MacCready nodded. "Yeah this is it."

"Are you sure this is the place?"

"It's got to be. Sinclair had to be onto something. I made it- I made it as far as the foyer last time before I- well, before I realised it was a bad idea to come here alone."

"What can I expect?" She grabbed a weapon from her pack.

"Ghouls, and lots of them. You're gonna need something other than that though." He pointed to the weapon, a sniper rifle now held tight in her hands.

"What do you think I should use?"

He took the gun from her hand and fished out a shotgun from the pack. "This." It also had a bayonet attached.

"Oh shit." She stroked her brow. "They'll get that close," she said as an exclamation rather than a question.

"Not wanting to back out now?" There was a nervous edge to his voice, and his eyes bore into her when he asked.

She shook her head. "No, I'm just not that go-"

"Good with guns. Yes I know." He sighed and looked towards the entrance, as they remained crouched behind a stone fence.

Molly almost stopped herself from asking, but she wanted to know, she needed to know. "You really couldn't get someone better than me, MacCready? Especially someone better with guns?"

"I think anyone in the Commonwealth is better than you with guns. But there is no one I trust more to watch my back." He squeezed her shoulder. "You'll be okay, General. Just watch, and follow me. I'll take the lead."

She gave him an unconvinced nod. She would do her best, she just hoped that meant they would both come out alive. The close encounter with a ghoul in an old music shop less than three weeks ago made butterflies flutter anew. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes a second longer in a blink.

MacCready loaded his rifle and aimed. She could learn from him. His hold on the handle, the way it nestled into his arm, how he took a breath and then stilled as he aimed and fired. One shot, a ghoul off to the side on its own downed with one bullet. The second and third, their fate was the same. There were two more close together and she knew he wouldn't get two off before the second ghoul would be alerted and come running towards them.

She readied her shotgun and took a deep breath. He fired two shots and laughed. He'd managed to get both. Molly sighed with relief. They stood and walked unhindered to the door of Med-Tek.

"Last chance, General," MacCready said.

"If you think I'm worried and scared, I am. If you think I can't do this for you, then you should be the one to tell me now." She stared into his eyes, lost in the blue and looking for an answer.

He maintained eye contact with her, took her hand in his, and squeezed while giving her a one-sided smile. She could have sworn that she felt the heat from his hand even though she wore gloves.

She returned the squeeze .

Inside, the foyer was a mess, the reception desk pulled over and litter and skeletons populated desks and offices. Filaments of dust filled the air, illuminated by cracks in the wall and from broken skylights above. The smell was dirty and musty, scents of soaked cardboard and fetid human remains of dead ghouls assaulted their noses. MacCready sneezed. Off to the side they climbed over several pieces of furniture to investigate the offices. Inside one, they found a terminal.

"Not much here MacCready," Molly said as she tapped into the main list of items on the terminals front page. "The building is still in lockdown. We need to find the right terminal, this one won't give us anything."

"Let's keep going." He pressed a button on a nearby elevator. "Damn it. We'll have to navigate the stairs."

Molly resisted the urge to pick up more junk aside from an aid kit. That wasn't the reason why they were here and she couldn't afford to let her guard down given that MacCready had almost lost his life here.

They made their way to a second terminal, one that led to the sub level. "This is the way to the labs so now we look elsewhere to get this unlocked." He pointed to the stairs. "This way. Sinclair said we might find a terminal in one of the upper offices."

They came across their first ghouls inside the building, easily pot shotted them in the head before they even realised they were there. An open work space with a mezzanine, wasn't so easy. Ghouls lumbered towards them, grunting. When they were detected a rush came at them and Molly crouched low from behind. MacCready managed to pick most of them off or incpacitate them and Molly used the bayonet to finish them off.

"Nice one, General. See you are learning." He nodded and smiled.

She lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back his praise making her stand taller and push her heart rate up. "We've a whilst to go yet, MacCready."

They easily cleared several offices of ghouls until they came to one of the exec terminals. "Here, this passcode better work. Otherwise-"

She nodded and typed on the terminal. "It worked. That- was simple."

"Thank god. One step closer. Back to that terminal for the sub-basement. I don't think that will be so easy." A pessimistic tone permeated his voice and his brow wrinkled with concern.

The battle to get to the lab was harder than anticipated. More than once she had fallen and a ghoul had come right at her face. The twisted features, decaying skin and the smell made her gag. The bayonet had been the best addition to the shotgun, if it hadn't been for that she might have been torn apart.

MacCready, of course, was skilled to down them as quick as they came, the odd one was left for Molly to clean up. When they came in hordes it could be deadly for a single person, fighting in tandem felt not only safe but oddly exhilarating. Her heartbeat slowed with each shell that fell into the putrid mess of the feral ghouls. Maybe she was learning after all.

MacCready fired at the turret in the hall down to the lab, a pop and a fizzle marked its death that finalised with a mechanical whine. Several more ghouls were around the corner and emerged to the sound of the gunfire.

Molly worked on the terminal hearing the grunts and moans from the ghouls as they ran towards them. "Almost there, get ready, I don't think it's going to be empty."

"Ready, General," he said as he popped the final ghoul in the hallway.

The clunk of the maglocks releasing thudded in her ear and gave the impression that it was taking forever. Molly felt her insides quiver slightly and her heart begin to race again, troughs and peaks of adrenaline the order of the day. She picked her gun and gripped it tight. The door opened to reveal a half dozen or more ghouls.

"A glowing one, shi-" MacCready pumped several bullets into the ghouls as they turned their attentions to them.

She followed with a volley of shot gun blast from behind, the speed of her reloads surprising even her. One, two, three, and the rad counts beeped on her pip boy. Four, five six, more rads counted and the glowing one still alive.

On a beat a ghoul got close enough for MacCready to knock back and several more pumps of her gun saw blood and brains splash onto their boots.

There was only the glowing one left, and it closed in on Molly. Her gun jammed as the ghoul grew nearer. A blast from MacCready's gun sailed past her head, then another and the glowing one was down less than a metre from her. Aside from the ringing in her ears there were no other sounds of ghouls to be heard. Molly bent at the waist to catch her breath. Sweat that was a simple film before now began to drip down her temples. She could feel the damp under her arms warm and moist. She blinked back the sweat and gave herself a satisfied smile.

MacCready was laughing. "You okay, General?"

She gave him the thumbs up and reached for some water in her pack. She passed it to him when she'd taken her fill.

He downed the rest of the flask and flung it empty to one side as he kicked the corpses aside. "It's here somewhere, you start over there," he said in a voice steady and lowered in pitch. He pointed to a bunch of shelves on the back wall.

They began their search through the ruined laboratory mindful of broken glass beakers and test-tubes, rusted metals of stands and Bunsen burners. Sheets of paper with formulas and writing torn from labbooks were scattered over benches and floors.

Molly could hear MacCready muttering from the other side of the room. "It's not here, it's not here."

"MacCready," she said.

"And Sinclair said it was boils. It's got to be here and the same thing. It's got to be." He picked up a small box shook it and threw it to one side.

"MacCready," she repeated.

"I've got to find it, he had to be right." There was a growing panic in the tone of his voice.

"MacCready," she shouted this time and walked back over to him picking up the box and looking inside.

"Why isn't it here?" He gave her a plaintive look then scanned his eyes around the room.

"Robert," she said softly this time.

He stopped, turned and blinked at her, his gaze dancing behind her and to the side.

"MacCready, listen to me. I know junk. You've spent our entire time together chastising me for it. Let me look, stop throwing things around. If the cure is here I will find it, I know I will." She looked once again into his blue eyes, this time not searching, instead she gave him the reassurance he needed. "Trust me. If it's here I'll find it." Her voice was steady and firm.

His eyes focussed and he nodded without reply.

She motioned to a nearby chair. "Sit and watch, just in case we have any visitors." Molly began her search. She partitioned off the room into segments and searched each one thoroughly, making sure not to go over the same ground twice. Cupboards and benches were packed with medical equipment and what looked to be untested serums in large syringes. Partially closed boxes had bandages and swabs and containers of medical grade alcohol . It didn't take long to find it amongst everything else. It was sitting underneath a clipboard on the main bench in the middle of the room. She turned to him with the widest of grins. "Soldier, I think I have it."

He looked intently at her and his eyes widened. "Holy crap, we did it! Duncan has a fighting chance now." He stared at the cure sitting in her hand and then gazed up to her face with a grateful smile. "I don't know how to pay you back for this."

A bitter smile rose to her face. What had they just been through? This was not- not about payment or payback. "It's not about receipts, MacCready. I did it to help your son."

He looked her up and down. "I know. I'm just not used to this kind of thing. Maybe I'll realise one day you're different."

She wanted then and there to tell him she was, to poke him and say yes, scream it to the walls if she had too. He had been telling her she was underestimating herself, that she was more than she gave herself credit for, to throw this back at her felt like a reversion on this opinion of her. It put a sour note to an otherwise successful search. Doubts about everything he told her she could do started to cloud her mind once again. Did he too feel her lack of skills as keenly as she did herself? That he didn't trust her or her competence? She tried to find the words, but was left biting her tongue.

MacCready shuffled his feet in her silence. "Sorry to drag you through all of this only to come out with nothing, no junk or anything useful." His fingers were restless on his gun. "There's one more thing."

"What is it?" The words came out harsher than intended and she saw a quizzical look pass over his face.

"We need to get this cure to Daisy in Goodneighbor. She can get it to Duncan and she's the only one I trust."

Her brow furrowed. "You won't take it yourself?" Surprise tainted her voice. Duncan was his son, why did he not want to make sure it would be delivered safely to him?

"Duncan is in good hands, I'll see him soon. I- just. I know you want an explanation but now's not the time." He shook his head.

"This is as good a time as any." She shook her head confused. If it were Shaun she would want to be the person to safeguard the delivery. In a heartbeat, she'd leave everyone else behind, the only hindrance being how fast she could run.

"It's just not the time," he said in a resolute manner and cast his eyes downward and away from hers.

She rubbed a hand over her mouth. "Okay, um- we'll get it to Daisy then. Don't worry."

They began their return to the foyer. MacCready grabbed at the sleeve of her coat. "If you want to pick up some junk, I'll even carry it for you." He made a half attempt at a laugh.

"Okay." She took a deep breath and the bitter smile reappeared. "I thought I saw some things in the offices upstairs that might be useful."

"Lead on then, General."

She looked back tentatively at him as they made their way through the maze of upstairs offices. He was quiet as he watched her pick up, scrutinise and either pack away or discard various bits and pieces. Whenever she looked up his eyes were on her and smiling.

After several rooms, Molly thought she had what she needed and they headed towards the entrance.

"Hey," MacCready said as they were about to exit. "Did you call me Robert earlier?"

Her brow creased, worried that he might have found offence in her remark. "Yes, I think I did. But, don't worry it was just to get your attention."

"Here, your stance is all wrong." Nate placed his hands on Molly's waist. "Twist a bit to the left."

His hands gripped her unreasonably tight and she couldn't help giggling.

"Now stop that. This is serious business, Miss," he said with a smirk.

"Of course, of course." She suppressed another laugh.

"Now bring the rifle up, the butt should sit high and into your body. Now you can aim. You can close one eye if it makes it any easier." Nate's voice was patient and steady.

Molly closed one eye as she looked through the scope. She could see the target, an outline of a man with a series of circles within. The gun felt heavy and cumbersome even when tucked in tight to her shoulder as if it could easily slip from her grasp.

"When you're ready, you can fire."

She lined up the target and pressed the trigger. The gun went off and reverberated hard against her right breast. She winced. "Ow."

"You okay?" Nate said with concerned tone.

"I didn't think it would do that. Ow-" She rubbed the edge of her breast.

"You'll get used to it."

She set the gun down and gazed up at him biting her lip. "I'm not sure about this, Nate. I-I don't know- I don't know if I want to." Her voice was laced with anxiety.

He caressed the side of her face and gave her a reassuring smile. He picked up a set of binoculars. "But you have such great aim. See."

She took the binoculars and looked at the target. There were no holes in her target paper. But there was one in the paper of the stall over. She turned to face him. "Oh blast, I wasn't even aiming at the right target." She clenched her jaw tight in frustration. "How many times can you show me how to do this? You have the patience of a saint, Lieutenant Gould."

He sniggered. "It's okay, Molly. Some of us weren't meant to be soldiers." He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her. "You're much better with words and you're an intelligent woman. I bet you could talk your way out of a fight." Nate released her from the embrace abnd picked up the gun to check the remaining shots.

"Maybe, I'm hoping never to find out."

"Let's hope that's the case. But just in case maybe some smaller arms would be suitable. Something that fits into your bra perhaps?"

"Not like there would be room, now?" she chuckled. "That sounds like some noir detective story. Pulling out a gun from my lacy under things or better yet a garter." She elbowed him in the side.

Nates mood turned serious. "Molly, the world's changing. I love you and I want you to be safe. You need to know the basics. In case of emergency."

"Well, if I must, but I'm a lost cause." She shrugged and leaned up for a kiss.

"Yes, you must." He pecked at her mouth with soft short kisses. "I trust you to get it right, soon to be Mrs Gould."

"Thank you soldier, I'm glad someone has faith in me."

"Always."

They were silent for most of the trip back to Goodneighbor. MacCready seemed relaxed, making small jokes here and there but Molly was too lost in her own thoughts, about what to do next. She tried to put aside her current feelings about him. It would have to be what it would be. Now her concern was Shaun and Kellog's memories had meant a previous trip into a highly irradiated area. She had taken Nick with her and a return to Virgil would mean taking either him or Strong. MacCready might not want to follow.

"MacCready, I've realised the next step of finding Shaun might be too dangerous for both of us to go."

He furrowed his brow. "Really? I mean after what we just did?"

"I'm to return to Virgil in the Glowing Sea."

"Oh." He gave a knowing nod. "Well I guess that might not be a great place to follow."

"I thought it might. So perhaps after we get Duncan's treatment to Goodneighbor, we part ways." She glimpsed a discontent in his eyes, but she was uncertain why. She turned her face away from him. Everything about what happened since Sunshine Tidings told her that whatever they had was going nowhere. However, the feelings she had for him had not diminished, they had grown and no matter how much she tried to suppress the feeling she felt positively sick at the idea that he didn't want her. Her body slackened and in the pit of her stomach a discomfort akin to sea sickness rose. When she glanced back at him, she thought maybe there was more to the discontent but the moment had passed and he appeared non-plussed.

"I'll just head back to the boathouse or somewhere else for a while." He took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling deeply.

"For the best." She nodded and tried to hide her disappointment. Had he asked for a hazmat suit for himself she would have spent her last cap to get him the best one she could.

"You'd best take Valentine. Or even Strong would be better suited." He blew smoke out the side of his mouth. "Do you have a hazmat suit?"

"I do, I've stored it back at the Boathouse."

"I guess we'll be companions for a little bit longer then." He threw away the line like a casual idea and she simply nodded and said nothing more.

It was nightfall before they reached Goodneighbor, and MacCready was keen to get the cure to Daisy, even if it meant interrupting her evening. They arrived at her store just as she was packing up for the night.

Daisy's singsong drawl was the first thing that you noticed about her. Apart from the fact she was a ghoul.

She addressed Molly. "Well stranger, nice to see you. Come back for more?"

"Not exactly, Daisy. But I think MacCready here wants to speak with you." She pointed to him as he slinked in behind her.

"Well, sweet vanilla Hoodsie, I haven't seen you in a while. I thought you sold yourself across the river, MacCready."

"Honest work for honest pay, Daisy. Nothing suspect about it."

"All good to hear," she said. "So what do you need?"

"I got it, Daisy. I found the cure to Duncan's disease." There was a hitch in MacCready's voice when he spoke.

"Oh my god! That is wonderful news." Daisy's hand went to her heart. "How did you do it? You were lucky to make it out alive last time."

"The General here, helped me-" He glanced at Molly then to the floor. "I couldn't have done it without her."

Molly smiled and felt warmth come to her cheeks.

"I need to get this to Duncan and the homestead. I would take it myself- but-" He gave a furtive glance in Molly's direction. "Can you help?"

"First caravan out of the Commonwealth. The driver owes me a favour and I know I can rely on him as much as I've relied on you."

"Thanks, Daisy." MacCready's eyes were soft.

"Hey, for all the times you helped me, I'm glad to help."

"You're a doll," he said.

"I ain't anything of the kind, and you know it. But- keep saying it anyway, one day I might actually believe it."

MacCready walked outside to light another cigarette.

Daisy turned her attention to Molly and tilted her head to one side. "Now stranger, you sure there's nothing you need?"

If Molly could read Daisy's features, she'd be sure there was more in the question than what was on the surface.

"I- I - I don't think I need anything. Thank you, Daisy." She made to follow MacCready outside.

"Hey, before you go. Do me a favor, stranger. Take care of MacCready for me. He's one of the good ones."

Molly's thoughts froze and she didn't know how to reply to such concern, it became obvious to her that MacCready had more friends in the Commonwealth than he admitted. She nodded her head and stuttered out a reply. "I- I will. I promise."

Outside the shop, there was a light rain beginning to fall and thunderclouds could be heard rumbling in the distance. "Back to the Boathouse then, General?"

"Yes, but I guess we're stuck in Goodneighbor for the night." She held out her palms and sighed.

"You don't sound thrilled. But I can't say it excites me either. I want to be on the road too." He stubbed out his cigarette and looked around. "The Rex is really the only choice in town unless you want to sleep in the streets or risk a warehouse - and given the reputation around here they have about the same level of security," he chuckled.

"The Rex it is then." The same weak smile crossed her face for the last time tonight.

That night they slept in the same bed, but didn't touch. His quiet peaceful breaths were punctuated with an occasional snort. More than ever, she wanted his hands around her waist, to tell her that everything would be okay, and that he trusted her. However, she knew that for MacCready, trust was like paper. Once crumpled, it can never be perfect again.