Yeah, look I don't know where this came from either so. . .you know. . .

SLOW BURN like OMG, slow burn from Hell.

And there are other things here and there that need to be addressed but I'm gonna wait until I hit those chapters for my warnings. Note that this will eventually turn M Rated.

And, I guess, enjoy this weird thing.

"Well, if it isn't my old friend the frozen tv-dinner?"

He thought it was a pretty good line, one good enough to be his last. But when she didn't pull the trigger, he couldn't sick his synth on her. When he opens his eyes, he realizes he was too much of a damn coward in the end to look a housewife in the eye as she shot him down.

A tiny slip, she was, holding a gun that was almost as long as she was tall and she looked ready to shove the barrel between his teeth; it was a wonder she hadn't done it already, he deserved it and he knew it. She didn't look like the Wasteland had done her any good aside from putting a pretty gun in her hand and some meat on her bones. Other than that she was tanned and shaking, her eyes slightly sunken, bloodshot; she hadn't slept good in the month since she started hunting him.

He hadn't slept either, when he went huntin.

She didn't pull the trigger, didn't let that energy beam clear through his skill, turn him to ash or just obliterate him. She wanted to, she had that look of despair on her face and her finger caressed the trigger but she was shaking and he knew defeat. He could have pulled his trigger, killed her so easily, but the old man would have his own head and he couldn't have that on his hands.

No, it had to be her.

"What," he mocked. "Too afraid? Have you even taken a life on the Wastes yet?"

"Shut up!" She screeched, whipping her head side-to-side in a panicky way, gripping a handful of hair in a tight fist; the butt of her rifle slammed into the floor. "J-Just shut the fuck up!"

"Or what," he hummed. "You'll shoot me? Isn't that what you came here to do? I took your kid, killed your husband," her eyes flickered up to his. "Use that fire, get your revenge."

Her fingers slowly loosened in her hair, her jaw trembling; he could faintly hear her teeth chattering. She had the balls to look over her shoulder, to the ghoul staring at her in the background. Kellogg knew the ghoul in the get up, Hancock, possibly one of the only men Kellogg would admit was as dangerous as him.

Unpredictable, charismatic, ruthless and yet he'd seen people smile into this ghoul's blade.

Kellogg could never command such an audience.

"Jesus," his eyes moved to hers again, saw that crease of realization. "I-I can't do it," she shook her head. "I can't. . .Hancock," he hummed. "Do it."

Kellogg growled and lurched for her but the bullet hit him and pain made him hit the floor. No, no it had to be her! She had to be the one that killed him, ended him! That was how it was always supposed to go, how he had predicted, how he had planned!

Lasers shot over his head, blue and red, the gleeful cackle of the ghoul tearing apart circuits nearby; a soulless synth head bounced and rolled to a stop, eyes locking with Kellogg's as it died.

Kellogg cringed and rolled onto his back, pain shooting up his back as he did so. He could feel the blood soaking through his pants. . .wait a minute.

His eyes widened and stayed that wide as the room quieted, even through her rustling through his pants. He heard her boots thunk away, the click of her fingers going over the keyboard of his terminal.

He was. . .still alive.

His eyes never wavered from that focus on an old water stain above his head, even whenever Hancock crouched by his head and smirked down at him. "Thought she was gonna kill ya huh," he scratched at the dry skin of his forehead; his hat bobbed above his knuckles. "Man, don' know what she has planned for you but I'm gonna have fun with this."

After a moment, she entered his vision and he finally looked over at her, watching her flick away his id card. She released a shaky breath, her lips parted and revealing those pearly white teeth. She looked like she hated her decision, that he was already a burden and on some level, Kellogg was curious as to what she wanted with him. Why did she keep him alive? He didn't leave the people alive that took his wife, his baby; they'd had the same revenge plot, but she'd kept her enemy alive.

"Get. . ." She sighed and pulled her rifle into her arms. "Get him up off of the floor."

"Well thank you for allowing me to do the heavy lifting," the ghoul batted his non-existent lashes as he approached Kellogg.

"You thank me for the strangest things," she muttered, narrowing her eyes slightly when he hefted Kellogg over his shoulder. "Radiation is a son of a bitch," she shook her head.

Hancock grinned. "You're tellin me, I can barely feel his weight," he craned his head back but wasn't anywhere near looking at Kellogg's face. "Do you even eat, man?"

"Bite me, ghoul," Kellogg snapped, feeling like a child. "Do what she can't seem to do, kill me."

"Nah," Hancock chirped. "See, she runs the show, I'm just the lacky."

"Ignore him, Hancock," she muttered as the security gate swung open. "Finally, I didn't want to have to walk all the way back around," she cast Kellogg an almost disgusted look as Hancock hauls him through the door.

"What are you doing," he snarled. "Kill me."

She shook her head though and ignored him as she instructed the ghoul, who was humming and seemed as content as could be with the situation; what was the chem-of-the-day? There was so much confusion and anger swirling around in Kellogg's head. He had planned out every detail and she had followed up until this point. She'd been so predictable, what had changed? Who had talked her into this, what had calmed the rage? Maybe it was that final little detail, the one where it wasn't his fault Shaun was taken from her but the Institute. Maybe she felt pity for him, thought he was under their spell or something stupid like that.

She wouldn't be too far off.

When they stepped outside, the sun is barely in sight and the rain is nearing a downpour, drops leaking through the cracks along the ceiling. Hancock drops Kellogg and holds him up in a more mature way, an arm slung over the shoulder and all that. She brushes past them and starts working on that computer, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth after a moment or two ticks by.

"Need some help, sunshine," Hancock chirps.

She scowls at him over her shoulder and gives the keyboard one final tap. "Even if I did, you don't know jack shit about computers."

Hancock chuckled and shrugged, helping Kellogg limp along and out into the rain. He wanted to sigh into the cool rain, lean back and enjoy it a little bit longer but he wasn't in the most pleasant company.

And there was. . .something coming through the trees.

Well, not exactly the trees but that's what it looked like at first. Vertibirds swept over their heads, kicking up gusts of wind that made her cover her eyes. Then there was the giant. . .thing, he'd seen one in an old magazine before - a Zeppelin? It even made him shut his mouth and watch it glide under armed-to-the-teeth escort with blades and mini-guns strapped to the undercarriage. Lights swept over them and the ghoul grunted in Kellogg's ear, ducking his head to scrub at his eyes with his free hand.

And she just stared.

Watched that big hunk of floating metal crackle to life and introduce itself. "People of the Commonwealth," a thick voice came over them and it was worth a wince. "Do not interfere, our intentions are peaceful. We are. . .the Brotherhood of Steel."

"One Hell of an entrance," Hancock commented, watching the Zeppelin move over the wasteland, gliding just as peacefully as it liked.

She nodded softly, in a daze. "I. . .Danse," she murmured and looked back at him, them. "I need to get back to Danse. Like, now."

"Runnin with Brotherhood," Kellogg chuckled grimly. "Knew you were a goody-two-shoes."

"Why are we keepin him again, Kat," Hancock groaned.

She pursed her lips softly and shook her head, craning it to watch the giant ship cresting towards the Boston sky line. "Lets start walkin," she paused. "We can stop by Hangman, get him patched up, ressuply, and then we go back to Danse."

"Really think it's a good idea to bring me along," Hancock questioned as he helped Kellogg limp. "I mean, they shoot folk like me on sight."

"And I'll shoot them back," she snapped. "Just stay close and I'll worry about threatening them, okay?"

Hancock grumbled. "You take all the fun outta this stuff."

And she chuckled, actually cracked a smile and chuckled at the ghoul. She looked younger then, the lines on her face more prominent but she gained this glow to her face.

Where the fuck did that come from?

She's made a fortress out of an alley.

Built over the foundation already there and put the beds and fun areas above their heads, crops in the corners, market stalls in the cubby-holes. There's two entrances and both have guard towers and three turrets a piece. Two heavy laser turrets are in the alley and on the very edges? Two missile turrets a piece.

Honestly, Kellogg is impressed.

And the people are welcoming, a teenage girl named Celia is working on his leg right now and, lacking Med-X because the provisioner is on a supply run, he can barely feel her digging out the remains of the bullet in his leg.

He watches her, Katarina, repair a laser turrets generator in the corner and he knows that 'herb' Celia gave him had some kind of mental effect on him because he can't even stew. He's mad, definitely still mad, but everything is neat and organized in his brain right now. He's never drugged himself, this feels very strange and its almost more infuriating than her inability or refusal to put a bullet in his head.

Doesn't she get it, he wants to die.

He wants to see his family again, wants to hold them and tell them how sorry he was, how he shouldn't have done all that crap.

But she wouldn't let him die and it was pissing him off.

"You know, if you keep making faces like that, you'll get your face stuck like that."

"I don't even have the energy to scowl at you girl," he breathed around a puff of cigarette smoke.

Celia chuckled softly and then smirked when he winced at her abruptly tugging on the knot of his bandages. "Don't need a bullet to get revenge," she said with a quirk of her brow. "Don' know what's goin on with you two, but don' start no fights here, got me? Be a shame to have all these turrets waste ya, and I gotta clean up th' mess."

"I'll keep that in mind," he snapped but that slur in his voice made things difficult.

Celia rolled her eyes and stood from her stool beside the gurney she had him draped over, wiping her fingers on the bloody rag in her hand. "Rest, stupid. Don' go an' ruin all ma hard work."

Kellogg didn't say anything this time, just turned his nose at her and focused on the sky that was peeking through the floorboards above his head.

He could really use another cigarette right now.

"I don't know why I kept you alive, alright," he peered at Katarina sideways. "Maybe its because you're the best lead I have to getting into the Institute, maybe the Wasteland finally got to me and I'm going bonkers," she shook her head. "But you're not dying on me, got it? I got two days and then I'm wanted to report into my superiors, and you're still tagging along," she reached back into the pack around her waist and produced two sets of handcuffs. "Hancock is scavenging up more, you're not getting away from me."

"I can still run," he snapped.

And she grinned. "I've always wanted to try my hand at some bondage work," she sighed. "Don't make this so hard, at least I don't have Hancock torturin you like he's begging. And he's really good at it."

Kellogg snorted, glaring at her. "I don't really give a damn, my dear."

"Ooh, snippy," she scrunched up her nose. "Look, if I decide you're not worth it anymore, I'll put a bullet between your eyes. How does that sound?"

"Wonderful."

Katarina rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that day - it seemed - and pushed away from the gurney. She didn't know what she was doing, had been winging it since the base and she was so scared she was making the wrong decision, keeping him alive that is.

Hancock was no help.

"He took your kid," he had snorted. "If you weren't so dead set on keepin the fucker, I would have wasted him already."

Very valid points, but something said No.

"Thanks, by the way," Katarina smiled shyly as she entered Celia's little cubby behind her stall. "For. . .patchin him up, I know he wasn't the best patient but -"

"Actually," Celia chirped, dropping her tweezers into the jar of antiseptic. "He was one of my best; took the drugs without whining or getting excited, sat still as I picked out shrapnel," she turned to Katarina with a furrowed brow. "Who is he?"

Katarina scratched the back of her neck. "You know, that's a very long story."

Celia sighed. "I figured," she paused and smiled at the confused woman. "So, how long do I have ya this time?"

Katarina shrugged, leaning against the wall. "I guess until tonight, stab that asshole with a stimpak and we limp away. I. . .the Brotherhood Of Steel are looking for me," she paused at Celia's alarmed expression. "Its not bad, I promise. I helped out one of their Paladin's awhile back and, well, he made me an Initiate. So we all report in now that the Mothership has touched down."

Celia shook her head. "Well, just don't go believin in their nonsense. Some of it is tolerable. . .but they get a lil radical."

Katarina nodded. "Yeah, the Paladin was a bit of a sight."

Celia chuckled. "Well, so long as he was cute."

"Oh totally."

They both chuckled and Celia sighed after a moment, gaining a sympathetic smile from Katarina. "Been a long couple'a days," Celia sighed again and perched on the stool behind her stall, leaning forward to close the stall doors. "Been workin Sun in Diamond City to set up a supply line with the other settlements but he won't hear of it thanks to Crocker's. . .slip up."

"He murdered a man."

"Yeah, that," Celia cleared her throat. "And the Guard keeps flockin in an outta here thanks to th' mutants. I need an extra set'a hands."

Katarina hummed. "Well, I can talk to some the caravan's that visit the settlements further out in the Wastes, see if they wanna set up here."

Celia nodded. "Tha' could work, so long as they know 'm the boss."

Katarina snorted as she pushed off of the wall. "I doubt they'll be able to argue that," Celia grinned. "Well, let me go find Hancock. I wanna leave by morning."

"Lemme look him over 'fore ya leave," Celia called after the woman.

Katarina waved a hand over her shoulder and looked around, seeing the stalls empty, the Brahmin drinking lazily from its trough. Kellogg was in the corner where she had left him, propped up on the gurney with a cigarette burning the joints of his glove. She tsked and strode towards him, taking the cigarette and putting it out against the bricks; who the Hell had given him one of those?

"I want what he's havin."

Katarina pursed her lips and looked over at Hancock, who was busy shaking the rest of his Jet from the inhaler. "How can you do that stuff and still function properly?"

"Years of practice," he frowned at the empty container, then at Kellogg. "We gotta haul his loopy ass to Cambridge? Not gonna wait for full recuperation?"

Katarina quirked her lips in the corner, pulling a stimpak from her waist bag. "Just an hour or two," she tore off the plastic cap and inserted the needle into his leg at the edge of his bandages; he groaned in his sleep. "Then we have to hurry, Danse gets impatient."

"Who cares," Hancock snapped then sighed. "Fine, fine, whatever," he paused. "You're totin him part way."

"Rock, paper, scissors for it," she held out a fist.

Hancock rolled his eyes but did the same. "I lose every time," he grumbled as he tossed up scissors.

"Because you always choose scissors," Katarina rolled her eyes. "But fine, I'll tote him halfway, happy?"

"Obviously."