Epilogue 2: Of moons and Monkeys?

Morning in Sanctuary was a subdued affair. Marcy and Jun Long were always the first up - the first to be hard at work and normally it would just be them and Preston on patrol until the sun had cleared a good distance from the horizon but this time - this time Preston found another early riser lounging in an old, rusted lawn-chair on the concrete garage. Hat pulled low against the weak but bright sunlight and huddled into the coat pretty good, but Preston knew who it was.

He noticed the makeshift table beside the chair with an open bottle of something dark as he approached. Beside that was a radio crooning Connie Allen's Rocket 69 and the one thing they'd managed to salvage from the entire Jangles screw-up. A little vault-boy holding a plastic lock.

The large boots that were resting on the crumbling wooden table were rocking back and forward to the sound of the song. The hat came up and he caught a glimpse of the freckled, smiling face of Althea Shapiro. 'Morning Preston.'

'Morning, General.' He smiled.

'Pull up a lawn chair and grab a cold one - Nuka Cola, of course.' She added seeing the look on his face. 'Thought it was about time I cut back.' Thea said with a nostalgic smile down at the faded sticker.

He leaned against one of the peeling posts holding the garage's roof up and nodded in understanding. Patently, Nick and Hancock had finally had that little talk with her about her love of the bottle. Preston had never felt comfortable calling her out on her crutch. 'I'm sorry you didn't get a pristine Jangles.'

The smile morphed into a grin. 'What would I have done with it anyway?'

She had a point. What would she have done with the toy? It would have sat in her son's old crib and mouldered further. 'I heard The Brotherhood sent a Vertibird yesterday.' He murmured, changing the subject.

'Yep.' She agreed and leaned over for the bottle.

'How did that...go?' Preston asked warily, aware of her thoughts on Arthur Maxson and The Brotherhood as a whole.

Thea took a good swig of it. 'Went as well as I could have expected.' She shrugged. 'Danse is still a borderline case but most of them are a lost cause. We're not missing much by cutting them off.'

'Glad to hear it.' he agreed and stood a little straighter. 'Did you have that talk with Strong?'

Althea's hat dipped as she took another swig of Nuka Cola.

'Thea?' He pressed.

'I don't want to break his heart.' She replied. 'Telling him what the Milk of Human Kindness is after all this would hurt him. Or maybe he wouldn't believe me.' She replied.

'He's going to find out some way.' Preston sighed. 'But maybe you're right. Things've just got quiet around here. What are our plans now...General?'

The hat finally came up and she gave him a curious look before it morphed into a chuckle. Her fingers tapped the bottle before she turned to Preston, her hat of office giving her shade against the sunrise. 'I heard rumours about a ship lodged in a bank east of Bunker Hill. They're all wigging out about it. Wanna check it out?'

'A ship?' Preston asked dubiously. 'As in -'

'Sail the high seas, buccaneer, ahoy maties ship.' Thea nodded. 'Apparently it's filled with robots.' He was wary about getting into anything so soon after the Jangles incident but when he looked up at her and smiled, she knew she'd won him over.

'Sounds like a mystery to me.' He conceded.

'Arrr!' She agreed with a laugh and raised her soft drink in triumph.

Around here, things were never quiet for too long.

THE END.

A/N: Something short, cute, wrapping up a few loose ends - and it is the end. For Rocket anyway. I'm not quite ready to depart from the Fallout fandom just yet. I have another project and an upcoming project to unleash on the poor unsuspecting readers but for those of you who have made it to the final chapter - I want to thank you personally for getting this far. It's come a long way from three goofballs on the hunt for a teddy bear.