August 18, 2328

The hands of the 8-year old girl eagerly rummaged through the boxes that sat on the floor; boxes that contained memories of an eventful life. Pictures of the girl's grandfather when he was a young man, items that had sentimental value-a BB gun and box of pellets, an old baseball cap, a commemorative Bobblehead made by Vault-Tec before the war. Each item told a story, a part of the life of the man who they belonged to. That man sat in a chair, smiling as his granddaughter looked through his mementos for the first time. She had grown up hearing the stories, the same as every child that lived in Columbia did. The girl, with her blonde hair and jade eyes, looked nothing like her grandparents; she took her traits from the New Vegas side of the family. As the girl removed items from the box, her eyes alit on an old black and white picture.

"Pop, what's this picture?" the girl began, pulling it slowly from the box to examine it more closely. The man thought he had an idea which picture it was; despite being 70, his eyes were still as sharp. Truthfully, he felt cursed-at 70 years old he still looked no older than 55 on his worst day, and he was still more than capable of performing physical tasks. While he remained resilient in the face of time, his beloved had not aged as slowly. The fleeting thought passed through his mind before he refocused on his granddaughter.

"Let me see it, honeychild," he responded, extending his hand to the girl. Rushing back over to her grandfather, she placed the picture in his outstretched hand before jumping onto his lap. Letting out a slight rush of air at the surprise of having 40 pounds throw itself onto him, the man readjusted, eyes turning to the picture as he sat back in his chair. A faint smile crossed his lips as he looked at the picture, one that had been taken…50 years ago? Is it really possible? His granddaughter's voice brought the man back to the present.

"Those two are Uncle Fawkes and Uncle Charon, right, Pop?" the girl asked, eagerly looking up at her grandfather as he smiled and nodded at her.

"They are. This is from right around the time I first met them. Do you want to hear a story about them, child? Do you have a favorite?"

"I know all of them, Pop. I want to hear something new. What about her? The girl?" she asked, pointing at the figure standing on the left hand side of the group picture, sneering defiantly at the camera with half of her head shaved; blue eyes piercing through the 50 years to look at the man as if she was standing across from him. The man cringed at the girl's request. It was hard thinking of stories involving the woman that were appropriate for children…

"Have you ever heard about Paradise Falls, honeychild?" The girl shook her head at him in response. "Good. It was a terrible place. If I tell you about it, can you promise to keep it a secret from your Abuela and your parents?" The girl nodded eagerly in response to the question, excited at being part of a secret with her grandfather. "That girl you pointed to was one of the bravest that I knew, and I first met her at Paradise Falls…"

August 2278

John sat in the Den with Sarah and the Pride. For the first time he was unaccompanied by Fawkes or Charon; something John hoped would convey a sense of trust to the Brotherhood. He had buried the hatchet with Elder Lyons and Rothchild following the recovery of his father and Janice Kaplinski's bodies, and they had been extremely cooperative in the aftermath to afford him room to grieve and lay both of them to rest. He and Sarah had grown closer over the previous two weeks as well; with him acquiescing to her request that his small trio and the Pride begin training together, in order to improve their combat effectiveness. Their initial test runs together had been anything but smooth. Glade and Fawkes had gotten into a dispute over the appropriate way to provide support by fire, a dispute that had nearly come to blows before Sarah and John intervened; and Charon had quite literally told Colvin that he was a grown man that believed in fairy tales. The initial animosity had begun to calm down as they worked together, and over the previous two weeks they had progressed enough that Sarah and John felt comfortable having their two separate groups go into combat as one force for the first time. The Elder had left the decision making of the operation up to Sarah and John, and it was the current topic of discussion in the Den.

"I say we go back into the Capitol building, root out every last Mutie that's in there," Dusk opined, drawing an eye roll from Colvin.

"There's the surprise of the year. Someone put it out across the Citadel-Dawn Dusk wants to kill more mutants. It doesn't matter, sweetheart, you're never going to catch my number," he said, smiling mockingly at her. John interrupted before Dusk could respond, preempting what was sure to be an agitated, if not outright hostile, response.

"Paradise Falls. I say Paradise Falls. I've been there, I have connections there, and I know the man that runs the place. I am intimately familiar with its layout and security. We could take it easily. The only concern is civilian casualties." Sarah looked his way, raising an eyebrow as she did.

"You have connections there? What is the Lone Wanderer doing mixing with the likes of Slavers?" John shrugged in response.

"Had to get into Little Lamplight somehow. The kids there agreed to let me in if I sprung some of their friends from Paradise Falls, so I did. Eulogy Jones is the name of the man who's in charge there. He's a huge dick, the Wasteland won't miss him," he replied, drawing a laugh from the room. That was a good sign, John thought. Slowly, but surely, he and his team were coming to terms with the Brotherhood. Although he had serious misgivings about their abilities, Fawkes had been right when he spoke in favor of cooperating with the Brotherhood-the things they could do together for the Wasteland far outweighed what he could do alone.

"Fair enough. What's the layout like?"

"Open areas, with some strategically placed chokepoints on the path to the slave pens. Snipers in towers, and multiple buildings to clear." Sarah frowned at the description.

"Any high ground for us to get our snipers on?" she replied.

"None. Our best bet would be getting Colvin or Gallows in a Vertibird and having them give precision fire from there," he answered.

"Fuck me, I guess," Dusk muttered under her breath, drawing a snort from Colvin.

"No offense intended, Dusk. I've just seen what those two can do before, in Evergreen Mills. We could sub Gallows out for you; he'd be a good man to have on the ground with us," John said to her. Gallows, for his part, remained silent, arms crossed over his chest as he observed the conversation. Sarah nodded her approval.

"That sounds fair enough. Break down into three fire teams then to clear the place? What do we do if we take prisoners? No repeats of Evergreen Mills…" Sarah cautioned, making her feelings on the way that the Wanderer and his companions had dealt with the raiders there clear.

"That's your decision, Sarah. I don't have anywhere in my house to keep any Slavers, Dogmeat takes up enough room as it is," he said in response. That drew a smile from Sarah.

"I'll figure that out tonight then. That gives me enough to start working on the Operations Order for this, at least. Everyone, you're dismissed. Be back at reveille tomorrow morning to receive the OPORD for this little show. Steel be with you," the Sentinel said, nodding at her troops.

"And with you," they replied as one, before filing out, leaving John and Sarah alone in the Den.

"It's a shame you have to work on that OPORD tonight…I was thinking we could relax before tomorrow," he said, smiling at Sarah before leaning in for a kiss. She bit her lip as she looked him in the eye, mentally undressing him. That was the farthest she had gotten thus far, and it was beginning to frustrate her.

"You're evil…don't distract me before I have to do this damn thing," she replied, her voice turning weak as the Wanderer leaned in to kiss her neck. The feeling of his breath on her neck sent chills up her spine, before being overshadowed by the feeling of a light nip on her earlobe and his voice in her ear.

"How much longer are we going to wait, then?" he asked, tongue flicking out at her ear as he did. Closing her eyes, Sarah suppressed a sigh before responding.

"I don't know. I want us to have time though…" she trailed off as John's hand found its way to her breasts, feeling them through her shirt.

"Time. Tomorrow, then. After we get done with Paradise Falls," he said, watching as she nodded; still biting her lips and keeping her eyes closed. "I'll leave you to your OPORD. Pick me up in Megaton in the morning …" he said, teasing her with a stroke against her inner thigh as he stood to leave the room. Only when she heard the door close did Sarah open her eyes. She hadn't trusted herself to look at John and not give in to her desires after he had started kissing her. The Brotherhood was all Sarah had known, and she genuinely did love her job. It was times like this, though, that made her hate being an officer. With a glum look on her face, she turned to the Holorecorder in front of her and began the first paragraph of the Operations Order.

"Situation…"

John entered his house in Megaton that evening, being greeted at the door by Dogmeat jumping on him and the sight of Charon with his feet on the table, reading. Without looking from the book, the ghoul spoke.

"How's blondie?" he asked, flipping a page as he did. John couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter at that question. Charon's derision for essentially every other living being amused him for some inexplicable reason.

"That girl is going to make my balls explode," the Wanderer replied, tossing his Regulator duster over the back of a chair and beginning to strip out of his combat armor. That response drew a look from Charon.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Because I can't tell when you give me cryptic answers like that," he rasped.

"Well, I don't know that I would call it good…" John began.

"So she hasn't put out yet. Has she at least given you an old fashioned?" the ghoul responded.

"No, she…what the fuck is an 'old-fashioned'?" John asked.

"You know…" Charon responded, before pantomiming someone giving a blow job. John burst out laughing at the ghoul's impression.

"If that's the way Sarah does it, then I hope she never does give me an old-fashioned," John said in response. "But no. We haven't gone beyond kissing yet."

"Isn't that kind of unusual for you, kid? Your reputation does kind of precede you." John shrugged at that, the sound of Fawkes coming down the stairs preempting his response. The super-mutant reached the bottom of the stairs and covered the distance of the room in a single step, joining his companions at the table.

"You've returned. Is there a plan, my friend?" he growled, looking at John as he did.

"There is. Paradise Falls, tomorrow morning. Sarah will be briefing her people and creating a plan to follow. We'll be going in as our own team, so we just need to be sure to check our fields of fire and be aware of where the Pride is moving," John explained, drawing nods from his companions.

"Any outside concerns we should be aware of?" Charon asked, his demeanor changing as he discussed the mission at hand.

"Possible civilians being held in the slave pens there. We'll want to cut them loose at the first chance we get," John responded.

"We're moving in daylight?" Fawkes asked, drawing a nod from the Wanderer.

"Yeah. Daytime. Ideally it'll be early morning, so they'll still be waking up. We'll have Colvin and Dusk up in a Vertibird to provide sniper fire for us," he answered. "If you guys don't have any other questions, I'm going to try to get some sleep. You two should try to get some rest." As John stood to leave, Charon replied.

"Hey, kid," he rasped, "you may want to…you know," before making a back and forth motion with his arm, hand clenched in a fist. The humor was so unexpected that it took John a moment to realize what the ghoul was saying. "Don't want to be distracted tomorrow." With a laugh, John made his way upstairs, leaving Fawkes and Charon alone in the downstairs. Fawkes' face was as close as a super-mutant could get to expressing confusion. Looking at Charon, he began mimicking the gesture the ghoul had made to the Wanderer.

"What does this mean, Charon?" Fawkes asked, entirely oblivious. Charon, for his part, let loose with the first real laugh he had experienced in years, the first since he had been captured and brainwashed, at the very least. With the remains of his face betraying amusement, Charon looked back at the mutant.

"Maybe when you're older, Fawkes."

Sarah strode into the Den the following morning to find the Pride assembled and waiting for her. Scanning the room, she couldn't help but notice the knowing look being given to her by Glade. Ignoring the look, she assumed her position at the head of the table and began to speak.

"Here's the Op Order for this morning's mission. Prepare to copy," she began, beginning with the opening that had become her standard before a briefing.

"Situation," she began, starting with the first paragraph. "Paradise Falls is a Slaver camp through which kidnapped civilians are processed and sold into slavery, both here in the Capital and to other regions. It is heavily armed and is under the control of one man, a Eulogy Jones."

"Mission," she continued, looking to the next paragraph. "We are to assault Paradise Falls, rescue any captives there, and capture or kill the occupants of the area. Eulogy Jones, who is identifiable by his distinctive red suit, is a High Value Target. He is a capture/kill, whichever opportunity presents itself on the ground." That drew some looks from the Pride.

"Execution. The Pride will be inserted by Vertibird into the main clearing inside the gates of Paradise Falls while the Lone Wanderer and his companions create a distraction for the guards at the main entrance. From there, we will split into three fire teams and begin to clear the facility, ensuring our fields of fire do not begin to cross each other. Colvin and Dusk will remain in a hovering Vertibird to provide precision fire from the air. Once the captives are secured, one fire team will escort them back to the landing zone outside of Paradise Falls, where a Vertibird will remain waiting.

Sustainment. No resupply. This is a one day operation, ideally less than two hours overall. Command and Signal is the same as always. We'll dial in on the same frequency and go from there. Order of succession is myself, Paladin Glade, Paladin Kodiak, Knight-Captain Gallows. If we get past there, you guys can figure it out for yourselves," she finished, drawing a laugh from the room. "Any questions?" she asked. Seeing none, she nodded at her troops. "Alright. Let's go suit up and get ready to move. We'll have an en route rally point to pick up the Wanderer and his people at Megaton."

2328

"Pop, why do you talk about her so much?"

"Who, CG?" the man responded as his granddaughter looked up at him.

"You know. Sarah. Why doesn't Abuela like it when you talk about her?" The man chuckled at the question.

"Maybe when you're older, child." The answer was not enough for the girl.

"You loved her, didn't you?" The man smiled at the girl as the memories of distant events filled his mind. It amazed him, in his old age, how incisive the girl was in her observations. She had none of the naïveté that he had possessed at her age.

"Yes, CG. I loved her."

"The same way you love Abuela?" the girl asked, persisting in the line of questioning.

"No. I've never loved anyone the way I do your Abuela. But Sarah was important to the things that happened back then," he explained.

"Was this her?" CG asked, pointing to the woman in the picture. That drew a peal of laughter from her grandfather. The woman in the picture was as different from Sarah Lyons as night was from day. The girl blushed at her grandfather's laughter.

"No, dear. That's not Sarah Lyons. Just listen to the story," he insisted, before continuing.

August 2278

The Vertibird that carried the Lone Wanderer and his companions was relatively roomy, as far as cargo holds went. Aside from himself, it contained only Fawkes and Charon, a Brotherhood crew chief, and two Brotherhood paladins who would be left with the bird as security. Fawkes sat across from him, his makeshift black leather armor a contrast to the green of his skin; Charon sitting beside him in combat armor. He had left his duster in Megaton, choosing practicality over wearing a garment that could impede his movement. The Wanderer was arrayed as he always was for a heavy fight-Enclave Hellfire armor, Plasma Rifle that he had been given by Harkness, and a bandolier of grenades across his chest. Sarah had briefed him on the plan outside of Megaton, and in his desire to show her he trusted her decision making, he had not argued it. On some level he was worried for the lives of Sarah and her troops; but on another level, the colder level that he operated on when he was the Lone Wanderer, he was simply irritated that the Pride inserting into what amounted to a premade kill-zone would make his job more difficult, should the Slavers not buy into his distraction and instead stay in their positions. The plan, in his mind, relied too heavily on the Slavers lack of discipline, it ceded too much of the initiative to them and required the Pride to react to them, instead of forcing the Slavers to react to their movements. But, as he was sure he would have been reminded had he objected, he was not a professional soldier. He forced his tactical concerns to the back of his mind as the crew chief spoke up over the sound of the rotors.

"One minute! Get ready, we're coming in fast," he yelled, the drop ramp on the back of the bird beginning to lower as he did. Performing a quick check on his plasma rifle and ensuring the safety was off, the Wanderer stood; watching out the open hatch as the ground rapidly approached and the bird flared to land. A moment later there was a jolt as the bird bumped off the ground and landed, followed by the Wanderer and his companions rapidly exiting the hold. Once clear of the rotor wash of the Vertibird, the group slowed to a walk. At the entrance to Palisade Falls the Wanderer could see a small crowd of Slavers, eyes all resting on the group approaching them and talking amongst themselves. Good, the Wanderer thought. Be distracted. Sarah and the Pride would be less than two minutes behind him. The more heat he could bring his way, the less contested the Pride's insertion would be. As he approached the Wanderer saw that none of the Slavers had their weapons at the ready. Without a word Charon and Fawkes had begun to spread out from the Wanderer, not giving a small group for the Slavers to shoot at. Now for a distraction…

A Slaver had made to speak as he drew near. His voice was cut short by a blast from the Wanderer's plasma rifle hitting the man in the chest. A cry went up from the group as Charon's shotgun and Fawkes' Gatling laser joined the barrage a moment later. The Wanderer felt a stray round bounce off his breastplate, a sign that at least some Slaver had managed to get his rifle up. From along the path that led into Palisade Falls he could hear yelling, the sounds of the Slavers coming to alert and rushing to meet him. Their cries were drowned out a moment later by the distinct thumping of Vertibird rotors, the birds appearing a moment later; their black a distinct contrast to the grey-green of the radioactive sky. The birds began circling, one descending to land in the central courtyard of Palisade Falls as the Wanderer and his companions made their way through the narrow passageway that led into the complex. The group cut down the feeble resistance they met along the way, arriving in time to see Sarah, Gallows, Glade, and Kodiak disembarking from the Vertibird's hold. As soon as they were clear the bird sprung back into the sky, flying into an orbiting pattern above the facility as the bird carrying the rest of the Pride swooped into land as Sarah and her men pulled security, unloading on the Slavers that were shooting at them from the windows and scaffoldings around the area. As John looked up, he could see a third Vertibird with its ramp lowered, the faint shapes of Colvin and Dusk inside of it; providing support from the air. The rest of the Pride disembarked and joined their comrades as the Wanderer entered their circle, the rotor wash of the Vertibird intensifying as it lifted back into the sky. With the background noise diminished to a faint thumping, the sounds of combat-of yelling, of the distinct crack of rifle fire and the more distinct crackling of energy weapons being discharged-came to the fore. The noises sounded…comforting. Familiar. Here, the Lone Wanderer was in his element. No emotions save the thrill of the fight, nothing to distract him except for his next move. Here, in the moment, he was free of the burdens of being John Thompson and could allow himself to be stripped of his personality, to take on his persona as Death.

"Begin fanning out! Break into fire teams," Sarah yelled, her men responding instinctively. John fell into the lead of his column, Fawkes and Charon staggering their positions behind him as he set off for the slave pens. The sound of Charon's shotgun ringing out served as a death knell for another Slaver that had attempted to get the drop on the Wanderer, not seeing the ghoul moving behind him. They met little resistance along their way, the sight of the Wanderer and his companions persuading whatever Slavers lay along their route to remain hiding. As they reached the front John looked back, motioning to Charon to come to the front while he and Fawkes covered him. Silently, Charon raised his shotgun at the lock on the pen and let loose with a blast. As the gate swung open, John stepped back to the front.

"Get out of here! There's a Vertibird waiting outside the front gate. The Brotherhood will help you from there," he said, pointing in the direction of the exit. Without a word, the captives took off at a run; John and his companions moving in turn to the nearest building. They wasted little time on reaching it; Charon booting the door in, followed a moment later by a plasma grenade thrown by the Wanderer. There were the sounds of yells and movement, cut short by the blast of the grenade. Fawkes stepped through, following up with a merciless barrage from his weapon, forever silencing the noises coming from the building. Nodding back to his companions, the super-mutant retook his place covering their backs.

Gallows was alone in the now silent slaver barracks. He never worked as part of a team; he had separated from the Pride when they landed to begin hunting down Eulogy Jones. From outside the barracks he could hear the gunfire slacking off. The day was almost done. He knew Eulogy had to be somewhere in these barracks; there had been no sign of him in any of the other buildings and no call over the net that the Pride had located him. Slowly, Gallows scanned the room; doing what he had been taught to become one with his surroundings. He began by closing his eyes, allowing his ears to begin listening more clearly; searching for any sort of tell that would give away the man's location-rapid breathing, a pounding heartbeat, the desperate, whispered pleading that cornered men made. Almost instinctively Gallows began to turn as his ears honed in, reopening his eyes. In front of him lay a row of lockers. The faintest of bumps coming from them had betrayed Eulogy; the Slaver had fidgeted and in so doing had given himself away. Slowly, the Knight moved towards the lockers. He moved with a preternatural silence; he needed none of the gimmicks or technology that the Wanderer used to avoid detection or terrify his enemies. Gallows was the silent Death to them; a contrast to the Wanderer's bombastic form of fighting. In a smooth movement, he grabbed the handle of the locker door and did not so much open it as rip it off; followed a moment later by Eulogy Jones spilling into a heap on the floor, his bright red suit a vivid contrast to the darkness of the floor. Before the man could speak Gallows grabbed him by the neck and began dragging him outside.

The Wanderer stood in the middle of Paradise Falls as the last of the gunfire died. The raid had gone off without a hitch. No friendly casualties, the Slavers rapidly purged, the captives rescued. Three-Dog would have a field day when he got this story. On the far side of the courtyard John saw Sarah and the Pride regrouping, before having his attention diverted by a loud bang, followed by the sight of Gallows dragging a man in a red suit his way. Eulogy, John thought, a smile crossing his face as he did. As Gallows strode to the middle of the courtyard to join the Wanderer and his companions, a flash on the Heads-Up Display inside John's helm drew his attention. He had synced the biometric scanner of his Pip-Boy to the HUD that was built into the Hellfire armor; whenever it detected biometric readings it displayed them to him. Certain individuals, such as Fawkes, Charon, and the Pride, had had their biometric signatures programmed into the Pip-Boy's memory and showed up on his display as green icons. This reading, however, was unfamiliar; it showed as a yellow hash mark and appeared to be moving rapidly. It was as he turned to face the incoming threat that he heard Charon speak, noticing the individual too.

"Shit!" the ghoul barked, rapidly raising and firing his shotgun in one smooth motion as the Wanderer took in the threat for the first time; a blur of pink and blonde. The figure, astonishingly, managed to dodge Charon's blast before springing at the Wanderer, a blade becoming visible in its hand. The Wanderer responded instinctively, his left hand shooting out and driving forward; wrapping around the elongated neck of the enemy-a woman-and driving her into the ground to the sounds of shrieking and muffled curses. It was only as he pinned the woman to the ground that the Wanderer got a good look at her. Bright blonde hair, with half of her head shaves; a slave collar around her neck and some obvious bruises to her neck and face that indicated recent physical abuse. The most startling feature, though, the one that penetrated through the insectoid eyes of the Wanderer's helm and into his soul, was her eyes. Bright and blue and filled with a depth of hatred that was almost incomprehensible to him. Unbidden, he remembered back to the night Evergreen Mills had burned and the reenactment of Revelation 6 he had given to the lone survivor of his raid there. There had been only three horsemen that night. From the back of his mind a voice, his father's voice, began reciting a passage. "…and I heard, as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying, Come and see. And I saw, and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and a crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer." Focusing back on the writhing figure below him, he saw her eyes beginning to roll back; the pressure of his grasp beginning to squeeze the life from her. He relaxed his grasp, allowing her to gulp in air, and as she did, he spoke.

"What's your name?" The woman looked at where his eyes were, hidden behind the faceplate of his armor, and spoke.

"Fuck you!" she spat, striking out with the palm of her hand in an attempt to break free. The feeble blow had no effect, armored as the Wanderer was, and he tightened his grip again, enough to remind her that he was in control while not strangling her. Turning to look in the direction of Gallows, he saw the night arrive, releasing his grip on Eulogy and dropping the Slaver in a heap. The man rolled onto all fours, glaring up at where the Wanderer held the woman on the ground.

"Who is this, Eulogy?" he asked, his voice distorted by the helmet he wore.

"What the fuck, kid?! We had a good thing goin'! How're you doin' me like this, after all the money we made together?!" Eulogy spat back. Behind his helmet the Wanderer rolled his eyes.

"It's just business, Eulogy. Now, the girl," he began, jerking his head at the woman's direction. "Her name?"

"What, Clover? That bitch is crazy as a bag of cats! That's why she's such a good bodyguard, too-she's crazy in love with whoever holds her leash. She still tried to come after you even after everyone else was dead?" The Wanderer nodded in response.

"She did. A bodyguard, you said? Give me her leash." A look of confusion crossed Eulogy's face at that. In the background, the Wanderer noticed the Pride circling around, observing the happenings.

"The fuck do you mean, give you her leash?"

"Tell Clover that she belongs to me, now," he replied, prompting a fresh round of shrieking from Clover and drawing the beginning of an objection from Sarah Lyons, one that was cut short by the Wanderer raising his free hand to silence her.

"Why would I do that? There's nothing you could possibly offer me anymore for that, kid," Eulogy responded. His response finally broke the Wanderer's already worn patience. All the frustration of the past weeks-working with the Pride, not having made it with Sarah, came rushing out.

"Eulogy, if you don't give me her I am going to fucking kill you," he barked, voice rising until it was almost a yell. Silence fell over the group as Eulogy's jaw went slack. Finally, he spoke, this time looking at Clover.

"Clover, you belong to…" the statement was interrupted by yet another outburst from the woman.

"No, daddy! Don't do this!" she cried, her face looking utterly crestfallen.

"Clover, you belong to this man now. John Thompson. He owns you, you hear me?" Eulogy yelled, speaking over her cries. The words had something akin to a magical effect on Clover. She immediately went limp in the Wanderer's grasp. Looking down at her, he saw a sly smile cross her face.

"You just going to hold me here, you big tease?" she purred.

"What the fuck?" Charon said from where he stood. Slowly, the Wanderer relaxed his grip on the woman's neck, before standing back up. Clover remained laying on her back, looking up at him.

"Should I stay here, or am I coming with you?" she asked. Silently, the Wanderer motioned for her to stand. She responded immediately, dusting herself off as she did.

"You mind dealing with this?" the Wanderer asked Charon, gesturing towards Eulogy as he did.

"Not at all," the ghoul replied, before starting towards the Slaver amidst a chorus of cries from the Pride. Eulogy's voice drowned them all out.

"What the fuck, kid? You said you wouldn't kill me if I gave her to you!"

"And I'm not going to kill you, Eulogy. Charon is going to kill you. Sorry about all this. Just business, try not to take it personally," the Wanderer replied, before turning away from the man as Charon began dragging him away. None of the Pride moved to stop him, Sarah striding forward alone to confront him.

"What in the BLUE FUCK was that?!" she screamed, less than a foot from his face.

"Which part?" the Wanderer replied, sensing, as he did, Clover stepping forward as if to defend him. The part of him that wasn't frustrated by yet another confrontation with Sarah was amazed at how rapidly she gave her utter devotion to him.

"Business with Eulogy Jones? Business? Care to fucking explain that?!" she continued, her face beginning to grow red.

"Not really, no. Not here and not now. You and the Pride should extract. Get back to the Citadel, tell your father and Rothchild what went on here. I promise, I'll explain everything later," he said; Sarah's face softening as she took several deep breaths to calm down.

"And what about you?" she asked. He gestured at Clover.

"She's still an unknown commodity. I'm not taking her anywhere near our people until I debrief her and at least can vaguely trust her. I'm going to have to take a rain check, I'm afraid," he replied, drawing a look of frustration from the Sentinel.

"You're unreal, John. Absolutely unreal. Just get back to the Citadel as fast as you can. We still have work to do." Her sentence was punctuated by the distant blast of Charon's shotgun ending Eulogy Jones' life. Slowly, the Pride began filing out, heading towards the landing zone where they would board the Vertibirds back to the Citadel. As they left, the Wanderer noticed Charon returning, casually making his way towards them; the ghoulish version of a smirk on his face.

"All done?" he asked as Charon drew near.

"All done. He tried to buy me off. Can you believe that? Like I take money from more than one violent sociopath at a time," he replied. The Wanderer smiled as he removed his helmet, allowing himself to become John again, now that the fighting was over.

"You and Fawkes should head back to Megaton. Lay low there for a few. Sarah and the Pride heard Eulogy talking to me and I don't know how the Brotherhood is going to react before I can explain things to them," he said as Fawkes strode forward to stand beside Charon.

"What about you?" the ghoul asked.

"I'm going to take her to Oasis. See if I can figure out a way to at least be able to trust her," he replied.

"Why didn't you just wax her?" the ghoul asked, responding as if Clover wasn't there. That drew a reaction from her.

"Go fuck yourself, zombie," she said, making it clear that while she may now feel unquestioning loyalty to John, the same did not apply to his companions. For the first time since he had met the ghoul, John saw Charon look taken aback.

"Did this bitch just call me a zombie? You little smoothskin whore…" he began, before John cut him off.

"Charon, not now. I didn't kill her because I see something in her. I don't even know how to explain it, but I can't help but feel she may be the last piece of our group; something that we've been missing. I'm not asking you to like it, I'm just asking you to wait while I try to make it work. Ok?" Letting out a sigh of disapproval, Charon nodded.

"Fine. We'll be waiting for you in Megaton," he replied, shouldering his shotgun as he did and moving off with Fawkes, who nodded and patted John on the shoulder as he left. As they grew distant, John turned to face Clover, taking her in for the first time. All she wore was a thin, pink spring dress. It would offer no protection from the elements or enemies, and her shoes were no better.

"I suppose that's all you have to wear, huh?" he asked.

"I can wear nothing at all if you prefer, lover," she responded seductively. That's going to take some getting used to.

"No, that'll do. Come on, we have a long walk to Oasis." With a sigh, and a thought of all the things he could be doing to Sarah instead of this, the Wanderer and his new companion set off for the forest.

2328

The girl looked at her grandfather with wide eyes as he finished the story. Smiling, he turned the picture over in his hands, looking down at the distant figures in it. Finally, the girl spoke up.

"Is that woman who I'm named after, Pop?" she asked. Smiling, he nodded.

"It is. Your father named you after two of the bravest women I knew. This girl is one of them. I know some of the kids give you a hard time about having a strange name, but always be proud of who you're named after, Clover Gale. Because I was always proud that they were my friends," he replied, smiling at his granddaughter. "Now why don't we go find your brothers and see what they're doing?" Nodding back at him, the girl, little Clover Gale, jumped off his lap and grabbed his hand, before leading him out of the house and into the early evening air.

So...hi. This has been over a year to get around to. Sorry about that. So for those of you that are still reading this and my other story, I'm going to try to be more consistent now. Anyway, if you're still interested in this one, let me hear it! Thanks for reading!