A sweet, high-pitched laugh rings out through the production floor – one that only Willow can hear as Maggie gleefully watches the woman trap Randall beneath her. Her bony knees pin his wrists, and as she leans forward, her long, black hair curtains his face.

"You were a hard man to track down." Willow's voice is cold, smooth, and MacCready almost doesn't recognize it. He keeps his eyes on Randall and hopes he doesn't have to put a bullet in his head – not because he has any qualms about killing him but because he is afraid Willow might have a fit if he does. Randall's breath quickens in pace as Willow's hands rest against his chest, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt like a kneading cat.

"What do you want from me?!" Randall asks, fear in his eyes, and Willow snorts.

"You're a pathetic man. You know that?" she cackles. "And a coward, look at you. Your brother put up more of a fight."

Randall whimpers beneath her. "M-My... brother?" he stammers, and a cheshire smile creeps across Willow's face.

"Oh, yes." she says. "Kevin." He had been first on her list, and really he'd been an easy kill but she did so enjoy toying with the man beneath her. Maggie suddenly appears at Randall's side and sits on her knees, giddy with delight as she observes. Willow's eyes flick to her and she winks, and Randall looks over at the empty air very briefly then back up at Willow.

"That was... you?!" he asks. He remembers finding Kevin's body. Brutalized, almost unrecognizable. Stripped completely naked, his own genitals stuffed into his mouth. It had been a horrible scene, even by raider standards...

Willow laughs again and nods animatedly, and Randall starts to panic. He struggles against her, trying to thrash his arms and knock her off of him, but she digs her knees in and he can already feel the pins and needles in his hands as he loses sensation in his fingers. "Please..." he begs, fearful eyes tilting up to look at MacCready who is watching him rigidly, finger resting firmly on the trigger of his gun.

Suddenly, Willow's cold fingers grip his cheeks roughly and she forcefully pulls his face down. She leans in so their noses are almost touching. "Don't look at him." she hisses. "You're talking to me. Look at me."

"I don't even know who you are!" Randall sobs, and MacCready shifts on his feet, eyes flicking to Willow.

"Well that's easy. I'm Willow." Willow says lowly, still clutching his face with one hand as she reaches back and grabs her switchblade with the other. Maggie's smile somehow spreads even wider across her youthful face.

"Do it." she says eagerly.

"Who?! What – who are you here for?! What are they paying you – I'll double it—"

"SHUT UP." Willow shouts. "I'm not here for your fucking caps, you disgusting pig—"

"Do it, do it, do it!" Maggie is chanting as Willow speaks.

"I'm here to show you that there are consequences to your actions—"

"Kill him! Do it!"

"I am!" Willow shouts at Maggie, head snapping to look at her. MacCready glances up to the space that she has just yelled at and furrows his brow in confusion. Willow then takes a quick moment to regain herself, before her icy gaze turns back to Randall and she smiles.

"I hope you fucking burn in Hell." she whispers and finally lets go of his face, only to plunge her switchblade into the base of his neck. She grunts and slices upward, and blood sprays across her as she opens up his windpipe leaving him choking on his own life essence as he tries desperately to gasp for air. He thrashes about for several seconds, and Willow watches in contentment as he realizes he is dying and panics. When the light fades from his eyes and he goes limp beneath Willow, she stands swiftly and regards the body with a cold stare.

MacCready doesn't know what to say. He is quiet as he steps back from the bloody mess at his feet and clutches his gun, eyes now on Willow as she spits on Randall's corpse.

She meets his gaze, then turns and walks briskly away from the scene. MacCready stays rooted in his spot, watching her with narrowed eyes. The factory, now devoid of life, feels a lot colder now as the sound of Willow's footsteps on the grated metal platform bounce off the concrete walls.

Her footsteps are soon accompanied by MacCready's as he hurries to jog after her. "Willow!" he calls out, and Willow stops, fists balled at her side. MacCready puts his rifle on his back as he stops and stares at the back of Willow's head with a troubled countenance. "Willow what... What was that?" he asks, and Willow frowns.

"Revenge." she replies. MacCready shakes his head incredulously.

"Revenge?"

"I didn't pay you to ask questions." she barks over her shoulder.

MacCready crosses his arms, one eyebrow quirking. "That's how it is, huh?" he mutters with cynicism, then rolls his eyes. His jaw clenches as he tightens his grip on his own arms. "You know you almost got us killed today, right?"

Willow turns sharply, the look in her eyes so fierce that it almost shocks MacCready. But the merc stands his ground, not allowing himself to be intimidated by this tiny woman before him. "If this was too much for you, then you can leave."

"Is that so?" MacCready challenges, and is surprised to see her hand extended.

"Yep." she says. "You did a third of the job, so give me back two thirds of the caps and get lost."

MacCready looks offended. "You're kidding." he says, but Willow doesn't budge, instead staring him in his eyes as she waits for him to make a move. He scoffs and grits his teeth. "You would have died in here if it weren't for me."

"If you want to go, then go." Willow's voice is calm, level. There are no ambient sounds in the room. It is quiet, tense, and it is just Willow and MacCready, staring at one another with indignation as the smell of copper and burnt flesh lingers around them.

Aside from the fire in Willow's eyes, her face remains deadpan and unfeeling. She looks truly unbothered by the prospect of the two parting ways, and MacCready considers it. But then he notices the way her hand trembles, the way she swallows anxiously as she awaits his answer, and he thinks about how much he's mostly enjoyed their very brief time together up until this point. Willow quite clearly wishes to be perceived as a person who is fiercely independent and fearless, but MacCready recognizes the hopelessness and solitude in her eyes because he has seen it before in himself.

He draws in a deep breath then lets his shoulders fall, before he reaches out and gently pushes her hand down. "Forget about it." he says. "You hired me for the job, I'm seeing it through to the very end."

Willow lets her arm fall to her side. "Are you sure?" she whispers, and MacCready nods.

"Yeah. Come on. Best hired gun in the Commonwealth, and you think I'm out after a fight with a few raiders?" he snorts, and for once Willow is relieved to hear the arrogance in his words. It doesn't stay long, as his voice softens once more, "Look, I don't know what or who you're doing this for. But I'm not gonna leave you to do it on your own. Besides," he smirks, "you and I make a pretty decent team. When you listen to me, anyway."

Willow blinks, then she smiles and chuckles. Her body relaxes, and she shakes her head. "I'm... sorry. I'll try to be more careful." she says earnestly, then takes a small step back from MacCready.

"No more stupid crap." he warns. Willow is silent as she chews her lip, then, she speaks up softly.

"Thank you."

MacCready waves his hand dismissively. "We should loot what we can and get the heck outta here." he says. Willow nods.

"Yeah." she agrees, and the two do just that, working silently alongside each other to strip the raiders of their caps, chems, and ammo. When they emerge from the factory some time later, the sun is setting and the sky is painted with an array of blues, pinks and oranges. It is picturesque, and Willow draws in a deep breath of fresh air.

MacCready smirks as he watches her from the corner of his eye, then nudges her lightly.

"So," he says, "Who's next?"