Moving an army across the wasteland took time. When the Brotherhood officially pulled out of the Commonwealth, they left with more supplies and soldiers than they had arrived with. Maxson's open policy to taking on new initiates proved successful in helping them take on every farmer's son and daughter in the Commonwealth with some measure of interest. Though many would arrive to the Capital Wasteland as initiates, progress reports given to Maxson recommended them for official membership sooner rather than later.

The downside to the Prydwen's significant weight increase was that the airship moved slower and was well and truly crowded. Shiloh opened her room to share with some of the scribes training under Haylen. The trip only took a week, but it was a week of torture. The Lone Wanderer was restricted to the confines of an airship and, perhaps most annoying, she barely got a word in with the Elder because the western elders were keeping him occupied every waking moment of the trip.

Knowing they should be getting close, Shiloh fiddled with a radio in the workshop area. She was biting her lip as she turned the knob, trying to listen through the static. Luckily the others left her alone to her ministrations. Shiloh wondered if her time would be better spent on the flight deck, but seeing the vast open world only made her sadder to be stuck on the Prydwen.

She tied back her hair, frustrated that it was growing past her shoulders. She would have to find a barber soon. Barber, not stylist, there's a difference! Butch's voice rang in her head, annoying her. Sighing, she hunched over the radio and kept listening.

After another ten minutes or so, the Prydwen seemed to spring to life with excitement, signaling they were close. Shiloh jumped when Three-Dog's voice suddenly burst through the static with his trademark howl. Gripping the radio, she scrambled to her feet and headed for the command deck.

She deftly ignored the meeting going on, walking right past Maxson and a few paladins to look out the large window. The radio in her hands played Three-Dog's voice cackling and wishing the Capital Wasteland a good morning. Maxson dismissed the paladins with a nod of his head. He let out a sigh as he moved to stand by Shiloh. The Prydwen flew over the ruined skyscrapers of the Capital Wasteland as the radio played Billie Holiday's "Easy Living".

-0-

Ingram didn't lie when she said the Citadel changed. Of course, Maxson was stolen away the second she could gather her bearings to speak to him. It had been long enough since they'd had a deep conversation that she began to feel self-conscious, a trait not common for her. Of course, she knew it was because she was experiences certain feelings she wasn't ready to name, yet. And her mind was preoccupied with wondering how exactly he felt. Maxson was the exact opposite of an open book. There was no way to tell how he felt about anything unless he actively wanted you to know. A perfect Elder.

She frowned, feeling a little down despite her excitement to be back in the Capital. She took one of the first vertibirds down to the Citadel. She was already exploring the new hallways while the Prydwen was still being tethered and Liberty Prime was being shut down for repairs.

Everybody at the Citadel was rushing around, busy as ever. She barely got to introduce herself to any of the new people. So far she didn't recognize anybody she passed by. Initiates were filed into the renovated courtyard to begin drills by their sponsoring paladins. The weather was perfect, maybe slightly warmer than usual, and Shiloh was itching to finally stretch her legs. She began to wonder if she should bother staying for long. Everyone seemed to be slowly finding their places. The cargo was being unloaded to a designated warehouse area and technology was being taken to the lab.

She briefly considered finding Dr. Li again, but considering the woman would currently be dealing with Watcher scientists at the moment...Shiloh didn't want to deal with that. She held an animosity towards them despite their intentions. It was their colleagues that kidnapped her and took her life away.

Avoiding the lab entirely, Shiloh headed to the inner circle, trying to memorize where all the new rooms and locations were. The A ring and B ring were largely the same, but a third and fourth area were being built into the Citadel. In the third area was a new section of officer's quarters and the fourth would be storage much like the airport had. With the new improvements, the place looked much more like a larger version of the Castle. The courtyard was renovated with better shooting ranges and fully fenced off areas to train combat and working out. The paladins, knights, and scribes who stayed behind while Maxson was in the Commonwealth had been working hard on the area to make it look like a jewel of the Capital Wasteland. For Shiloh it looked more like somewhere that could be a home. She wondered if that was Maxson's idea for it in the first place.

Two head scribes were walking down the hall as Shiloh was rummaging through her backpack. They paid her no attention, but Shiloh overheard their conversation:

"This simply cannot wait. We have two years' worth of paperwork to go over with him."

"I know, I know, but you heard the order. Elder Maxson explicitly said not to disturb him for the rest of the day. He's just gotten home and needs some sort of break."

"You're right, but we can only hold this off so long."

"He's young, let him have a break. At least for a short while."

Their voices drifted off as they turned the corner, but Shiloh had heard enough. She stared hard at the backpack she was rummaging through. Perhaps she was looking too much into it and Maxson just needed to sleep. But she couldn't help standing and zipping her bag. She had a lot of things to do, a lot of places to be, and she didn't want to waste time. But she didn't want to just up and leave without at least speaking to Maxson. She might not get another chance before the scribes buried him in paperwork.

It took her a while to find her way around the officer's quarters. She knew that at some point one of the rooms would be assigned to her, but she didn't plan on staying around long enough for that to happen. Perhaps when she got back she would take one of the spare rooms. She climbed the stairs to the highest floor and quickly found the Elder's quarters. There was a lobby area in front of the door where the guards kept watch. A desk and couch decorated the area, making it much more comfortable for the guards than the previous Elder's quarters had been.

Shiloh wondered at first what she was going to say to them, but was surprised when the guard looked up from a magazine and nodded for her to go right in. She recognized the man from the Prydwen and tried not to think too much about why he just allowed her in wordlessly. Nevertheless, she knocked on the door.

Maxson opened it, looking exhausted but surprised. He was wearing the clothes he'd arrived to the Citadel in. The room was barren save for a few trunks and a bag that Maxson had just carried in. Shiloh slipped the strap of her bag off her shoulder and set it down on the floor, turning to the window.

A window. She approached it, peering behind the thick curtains. It was an honest-to-God window with glass and everything, overlooking the courtyard. She couldn't hear any sounds through the glass, but the view dazed her. She quickly remembered herself, letting the curtain fall back to its place. She could feel Maxson's eyes on her and it took everything in her to gather the courage to turn to him.

"You're leaving."

"Not for long," she quickly replied, finally looking him in the eyes. He looked almost hurt and something tightened in her chest, "I'm not going far."

"I understand," she could tell he was just trying to make her feel better, "I know I haven't been very available lately-"

"You're the Elder. Of course you're busy. It would be ridiculous to be surprised by it."

"It's not...not just that…" he admitted, sounding less sure by the minute, "There were times where I considered calling upon you, when I had just a moment's rest, but I had a lot to think about."

Shiloh stared at her feet, "Oh."

"I apologize. I just needed time to consider my next move."

"I'm not a battle plan, Arthur," she couldn't help but smile and he offered her one of his own, "Do you...do you still need time to think?"

Maxson sighed, shrugging off his coat and tossing it on the bed as he sat on the mattress, "No. I just want to talk, now."

Shiloh moved to sit next to him on the mattress, taking the coat and placing it in her lap, "Would you like to know where I plan on going?"

He raised his eyebrows, looking surprised at her question, "Sure."

"Well, after I stop by the purifier, I want to make my way to Rivet City."

"Ah, yes, where your ex is."

Shiloh blushed, staring wide-eyed, "I'm-, he's not-"

"I can read between the lines, Sentinel. The Chief of Security and you were close."

"It's not like that, though. He's just an old friend to me." She wasn't sure why she was being so defensive. It's not like Maxson was her- was her- "I just want to see how he's doing and I promised MacCready I would visit him and his son."

"MacCready. The mouthy sniper Nora always dragged along with her. I suspected he was the one opting to steal you away from the Brotherhood." She turned red, knowing he was teasing her, but he was being so dry about it that it had her feelings all jumbled up. Quickly, she turned away in a huff, trying to calm herself. Maxson seemed to have other plans, as he only made her blushing worse by gently taking her hand in his, "Tell me what Pittsburgh was really like."

Shiloh blinked at him. She was hyper-focused on his hand holding hers and, craving the touch, she held his back. She'd told him this story before, a lifetime ago, when he was so young and innocent that she held all the details back, "You want to hear the real story of The Pitt?"

"I was so mad when I found out you held most of it back. I wanted to hear all about how you freed the slaves with the help of a man with an eyepatch." He genuinely chucked then, warming her.

She turned to him slightly, "Alright, but it's a long one."

"I cleared my day for you. I have time."

-0-

Maxson was woefully unprepared for the real story. The childhood version was a simply tale of the Lone Wanderer leading a band of enslaved workers through an uprising against a foe that reminded him of a power-armored version of Caesar.

They were both leaning against the headboard now, drinking from Maxson's private stash as she went through the tale in full detail. Maxson gripped his glass a little too tightly at the idea of Shiloh, wearing barely enough to protect her, infiltrating a slave compound. He swallowed when she told him how she had to fight in a radioactive arena with a broken rifle while wearing a dead man's armor. It made him think again of the type of fighting Caesar used to entertain himself back in the Mojave. He was glad that bastard was dead. If there was one thing he commended the NCR for, it was their hand in that.

"You're thinking too hard," he was ripped from his thoughts by Shiloh's fingertips on his temple. She had stopped talking while he brooded, opting to stare at him. Her eyes were a bit dazed from the alcohol, but she was bright and alert still. He looked at her as her hand left his face and moved to play with the collar of his coat still on her lap.

"I hadn't noticed you still had my coat."

"I love it," she said without skipping a beat. Then she leaned over to him and pressed her face to the top of his shoulder, "It smells like leather and bourbon."

"Honestly I'm surprised I don't bleed bourbon at this point," he placed the glass on his nightstand, opting for dry humor, but inside his mouth was dry at her being so close. He hated how nervous he felt.

She was practically purring into his neck now, taking in his warmth and scent. He tried to hold in a groan. His neck was a really sensitive spot and he could feel her soft lips against his jugular. Her body shifted a little and he could feel some of the energy drain from her. Damnit, he was too busy in his own head that he was giving her the wrong impression.

Grabbing her hand and sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her until she was half-way on top of him. She held herself up slightly with a hand on his chest, staring right into his eyes. Her face was really dazed now and she was giving him that same soft smile she had when they'd first kissed on the Prydwen. "Arthur, if you don't want this…"

He stopped her by pulling her closer until her lips were on his. Of course he wanted this. This was all he could think about every waking moment since he'd finally gotten a taste of her. Him wanting this wasn't the problem, it was all the implications surrounding this considering he was the Elder. He knew he wanted to kiss her and he had an aching, burning feeling that he was probably in love with her. But things weren't as simple as just telling her. The Elder and a Maxson one at that couldn't have casual relationships. Since he was born he knew that his relationship would have to be all or nothing due to the importance of his lineage. The actual problem is that he had no idea what he even wanted, let alone what Shiloh wanted.

So he would need more time. And they would need to have a real conversation, without her tongue in his mouth. Speaking of that, she pulled back slightly with another questioning look. Before she could express her confusion, he pulled her back to him and she responded by nibbling his lower lip. He groaned genuinely now and she looked pleased with that.

"Finally," she gasped into his mouth.

"Hmm?"

He was half-convinced he was dreaming when she responded, "I've been wanting this for so, so long," she began to paw at the zipper and clasps of his flight suit.

He sat up slightly, taking her with him, and she kissed him again as he undid the fastenings and pulled his arms through the top of the suit. She moaned a little in appreciation when she ran her hands down his arms, feeling the hard muscle. He was achingly hard now and it was only strengthened by the noises she was making. He absently wondered if she was quiet or a screamer.

She ran her nails under his t-shirt and through the fine hair on his chest down to his navel, stopping just short of where his flight suit began again. He busied himself by pulling her into his lap as he sat against the headboard. Though she clearly wanted to run her hands along his abs some more, he felt her body relax as she moved to run her fingers down each side of his jaw. The kiss was softer this time, allowing them to break for air. Her lips were swollen and pink now, prompting him to only kiss her more.

She giggled lightly, breaking the kiss again to pull her own t-shirt off. Her Brotherhood fatigues were already half unzipped, a trademark attire for her by this point. It left her in her standard issue bra now, nothing lacy or out of the ordinary, but Maxson was dangerously teetering at the edge of sanity now.

"Lay back," he whispered, looking into her eyes.

She bit her lip and he made note of her very visible approval of him giving her orders. Laying back against the mattress, she waited until he moved down and leaned halfway over her now. She swallowed thickly, running her fingers through his beard, "Do you need to stop until we ta-"

She was cut off by her own gasp when he leaned forward and kissed the top of her breast. So she was a gasper, he could work with that. As much as he really wanted to just spread her legs and bury himself in her, he knew that personally he wasn't ready for that and their relationship had a few questions to answer before he could consider that. Still, he wanted to please her. He wanted to memorize this for the upcoming lonely nights when she would be gone. Despite his reservations, he wanted her to remember this and touch herself. That visual alone had him groaning again against her breasts as he kept kissing until he reached the edge of her bra.

Blushing pink and frustrated, she sat up and unhooked it before he got a chance to tease her more and she let the straps slip down her shoulders. He leaned over and kissed her fully, pressing his chest against hers. He didn't miss the hiss she let out when she felt the skin to skin contact. He pulled back slightly, just enjoying the flushed look of her. He played with her hair, smiling despite himself. She smiled back, clearly giddy from his attentions. Suddenly, she grew serious and opened her mouth to say something.

He wasn't ready. He really wasn't ready to hear the revelation she was about to bring. Panicking, he quickly kissed her deeply and pulled her bra away from between them. She moved to kiss his neck like she knew he liked, but he beat her to it by lavishing her with open-mouthed kisses down her throat and between her breasts. Her body was lean and strong and athletic, but her skin was so soft despite her time in the wastes. He would have time to categorize and kiss her scars later. For now he was focused on feeling her. He held her breasts in his hands and she let out a whimper. She grew a little bit louder when he leaned down and took a dusky pink nipple into his mouth, playing with the other between his fingers.

He licked and sucked her breasts with gusto, leaving teeth and lip marks he wanted her to remember later. Let her remember that, independent hero of the wasteland aside, she was his. She was his Sentinel and she belonged to him. Being Elder didn't come without its possessiveness.

"Arthur," she moaned, keeping as quiet as she could, but she was blushing down to her chest and he continued licking and sucking her.

"Do you like that?" he moved up and kissed her neck, whispering into her ear. He felt her shudder, "Do you want me to mark you more?'

She nodded vigorously, "Yes, Elder."

Shit. That really did it. He kissed her collarbone, playing with her pretty nipples a little more before trailing his fingers down her flat stomach. Again, he could touch and learn about her scars later. They didn't have a lot of time today if she still wanted to leave before nightfall. He would let her, of course. As much as he wanted her to stay, as much as he wanted the comfort and attention of sleeping in bed with her, he wouldn't ever trap the Lone Wanderer.

Nibbling her shoulder, he felt her squirm as he played with the bottoms of her flight suit. Using his dextrous hand, he helped maneuver them from around her hips and down her thighs. She kicked them to the floor by her shirt and bra. She was pawing at him again, "I want to touch you. I want to taste you."

Jesus Christ. He was going to go insane, he was going to come just from hearing that. Keeping himself together, he shook his head, "Not today. When you come back."

She pouted and he kissed it off of her, "Are you sure?"

"Positive, soldier, now…" he traced his fingers along her hips until she squirmed again, "be good and let me touch you."

She let out a squeak, eyes widening when he reached below the band of her underwear and touched her. He groaned against her neck, losing some of his cool when he felt how wet she was. For him. For him. This was every fantasy from the last decade coming true and it overwhelmed him a little. He was overcome with the desire to taste her, to make her tell him how much she really liked his beard, but there was time for that later.

She kept as still as she could when he played with her clit. He'd only ever had Giovanna before this, but his ex-fiancee taught him well. He played with her hair with his free hand, "Relax, beautiful."

She blinked at him at the nickname, shocked but pleasantly so. Suddenly, she reached up and ran her hand along the scar on his face. He shied away, losing some of his cool again. "Hey," she whispered at him, "it's you for me. Only you."

It wasn't the words he feared she was going to say earlier, but he could handle these more vague ones. He turned and kissed her wrist, "Good." It wasn't a direct confession. That needed more time, but it was enough for now. She smiled brightly, kissing him. He deepened it while pressing a finger inside her. She gasped into his mouth again.

He kissed along her jaw as she moved to grip the pillow by her head. He watched as she arched her spine a little while he pumped his finger, curling it slightly inside her. She whimpered, nodding when he added a second finger. He watched her breasts jiggle slightly when her hips circled around his fingers.

He felt her stiffen again and saw her toes curl in pleasure, "Hey," he kissed along her face, distracting her, "you can grab me, okay?"

She nodded, biting her lip as her fingers released the pillow and she wrapped her arms around his back. He hissed in pain-pleasure when he felt her nails dig into his back when he pressed his thumb to her clit, "Arthur, Arthur," she whimpered his name. For some reason, it was so much better when she said his name like this. Like it was a prayer rather than screaming it.

She kissed along his jaw, touching his scar with her lips. He didn't realise how sensitive it was until she did that. She wouldn't let him pull away in self-consciousness, continuing to kiss him. He pumped harder now, knowing she was too tight to add a third finger. She gasped his name again, clinging to him tightly. When he asked if she was going to come, she nodded quickly, barely able to answer before it happened.

Suddenly, his fingers were soaked. She was tensed so tight he had to rub her shoulders to get her to relax. Clearly it had been a while for both of them. She was panting, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.

Curious, he laid on his back against the mattress and opted to taste his fingers. Shiloh glanced at him and moaned again, pressing her thighs together, "I still want to taste you."

"Another time," he was enjoying the taste, wishing the day was longer so he could taste it from the source.

She sighed, groaning when she turned to her side to face him. She traced her fingers along his chest, enjoying the hair and scars that decorated his hard muscles, "I promise. When I get back, we'll talk. I won't be gone long." He turned to face her, playing with the underwear band across her hip. He didn't respond to her question and she placed a hand on his face, knowing why, "You're thinking too hard again. Is this about Harkness and MacCready?"

He didn't look directly at her, knowing he had no right to be jealous. She wasn't his girlfriend. She wasn't his wife. "Just don't forget us while you're out there being a hero, Sentinel."

He used the word us and Sentinel to protect himself a little. She smiled, kissing him softly before she sat up to get dressed, "I'll think of you every day, Arthur."