I know we aren't that far into the story, but updates have been changed to Fridays! (when is possible) for reasons...yeah, pretty sure its just reasons. I do know my lovely co author here is going back to school so I believe that is a factor.

FloodFeSTeR

They all stink.

Okay, they don't really stink but they do reek of lies and fake smiles.

Rose is uncomfortable here, she doesn't know what to do. They're all as fake as her bogus persona, but with different stories to tell, different backgrounds, less predictable. Were they all born here in this bonkers place, or were they born in the ruins like her? Did they snap somewhere down the road, or were they always this senseless?

Rose has a hard time telling, and when Deacon said he was unable get a read, that's bad news and has her on her toes.

He's a better liar, always has been, always will be.

"Lovely place ya' got here," Giles tucks his hands into his pockets as the patchwork man approaches them; he's shaking crumbs from the mustache of his untamed, furry face as he approaches, but Giles takes his hand anyway. "Names Parker, these are my guards." He gestured to Deacon and herself who had been a measly two steps behind the negotiating men.

The man over looked Deacon and gives Rose the once-over, chuckling as the man releases her brothers hand.

"Never trusted women as guards," go fuck yourself you boneheaded crouton. She narrowed her eyes at him and shifted her weight. "Either they got distracted, or were the distraction ya know what I mean," he chuckled again. "But welcome to Covenant, good sir. Finest settlement around. So you're a new trader around these parts?"

Her brother nodded. "Yeah, looking to set up at the bigger settlements around here. You, Sanctuary, the Slog - places like that."

"Not a city boy, are ya?" He eyed Giles up and down, weary to trust the newcomer.

A smug chuckle circled the two men. "No sir, Can't say that I am."

"Oh please, call me Jacob."

"I'd prefer to stick to titles," Giles said politely, a sympathetic and sheepish expression on his face. "It's nothing personal, my superiors just don't like me being unprofessional. Might give the company a bad name, you know how it is."

This Jacob chortled, hand on his belly, the other waving at the air in front of him before he started walking towards the home settled in the back of the compound. "Oh boy, do I," he wiped at his eye, as though he had a tear. "So, from where do you fine folk hail?"

"Mojave," Giles piled up as they entered the building. "Cassidy's Caravans, started in the Hub and now we're here."

Jacob hummed, smoothing a hand down his buttons as he settled behind the desk in the center of the room. "You've come quite the ways," he commented.

Rose rubbed her arms as her brother and Jacob talked shop, looking over at the shrewd-faced woman sitting to her left, a tiny radio playing Travis' hesitant voice on the other end. There was a metal door Rose could see through to her right, one man curled up on a sleeping bag, the other looking bored as could be, resting in a metal chair. When he looked at her, she saw an odd look in his eye; she couldn't place it, but it didn't make her feel any better.

"So," Jacob's voice broke through her examination and Rose looked over, finding his eyes on her. "You're looking to establish a supply line here?"

"Yes sir," Giles nodded, hand on his thigh, other on the table. "Our boss is just looking to expand; the NCR has kind of put us in the shit-end of business as of late."

"Why not the bigger settlements," Jacob shrugged, apprehensive of their story, Rose could see. "Diamond City? You could have even set up supplies with the Brotherhood now that they're floating around the sky."

Giles shrugged. "Miss Cassidy likes to pander to the smaller people, the ones no one visits or thinks of. Lot more business that way."

"Fair point," Jacob paused, still cautious, and Rose was sweating. "I think we could work somethin' out, ma boy," but his voice wasn't of the cheery kind, it was a little tight. "I need to talk to some of the folks around here though, we don't really associate with bigger traders like you. More like the wondering, may-show kind of traders around here."

Giles smiled that charming smile of his. "Sure, I understand that."

"I'm glad," Jacob stood, and Giles did as well. "How about I personally set you up with a room tonight? Your guards can stay out on their posts."

Rose wanted to scream when Giles chuckled.

"Of course, let me get my things and I'll be back."

She and Deacon followed close behind Giles, quiet and calm, the professionals that they were. Deacon popped a round, pink piece of bubblegum into his mouth, offering the pack to Rose. She grabbed a piece, her teeth aching with the overload of sugar from such a small piece; she preferred a Mentat or a hit of Jet, but a sugar high would suffice. She couldn't afford to get sloppy on the job, she would be taken off, probably cast out if she made it home.

Killed if she didn't.

"What the actual fuck is going on," Rose hissed as Giles started untying their packs. "We didn't agree to separate!" She seethed through her teeth, worried about being alone with one of these people and blowing the whole operation.

Rose felt a hand on her shoulder and reached up to hold onto Deacon's hand. Giles sighed as he hefted his pack over his shoulder, giving Rose a sympathetic look; she didn't want that.

"We're playing a part, Rose, you're not a tourist -"

"But we always do it together," she shook her head. "We never separate."

"Well, we are now," Giles said firmly. "You two stay here with the Brahmin, apparently they move out that stupid desk and shit whenever the guards need a place to sleep. There are turrets watching and a dude with a missile launcher. You're safe, I'm inside, we got this. It's going to go smoothly, relax." Giles flashed them his famous captivating smile.

"I refuse to," Rose pouted.

Giles chuckled. "That's my girl."

Rose watched Giles brush past them, glaring at the ground and not his back. They suspected her already, she didn't need them really suspecting her; these people were squirrelly, isolated and afraid of everything around them.

"Come on," Deacon murmured as he watched the turret above their heads. "Let's crash, for an hour," He paused for a second. "We're delivering some goods to the Gunners across the pond."

Rose wheeled on Deacon with wide eyes, watching him lay down the mattress they were supposed to be sharing. "Excuse me?"

Deacon shrugged. "Boss wants us to deliver to em, so we deliver to em while he's talking to Jacob."

"Well this evening just keeps getting better," she grunted to herself as she plopped next to Deacon, snatching the blanket from him and rolling into a burrito.

"Hey!" He shivered. "I don't control who we sell to."

"Shack up with Scabs," her voice muffled from the quilt she stole.

Deacon smiled at his pouting partner before crossing his arms behind his head and quickly beginning to drift off. He understood how pissed off she was, he didn't control who they sold to though, and this was to establish their cover. Rose didn't like doing that, she always wanted to be the heavy when she wasn't that kind of material; if she would listen to him, she could be something truly great.

Roughly an hour had passed, the setting sun was long below the horizon and most of the small community had turned in for the night. It was quiet in the Wasteland, not even the Deathclaws had stirred yet, and they loved to prowl at night.

The sound of Deacon's growling snore had woken Rose from her peaceful slumber, at the perfect time as well judging by her scratchy watch on her wrist. She lifted her head while her hair went every direction apart from the direction she wanted it to. The groggy woman wiped the strain of saliva from the corner of her mouth before standing up and tossing the blanket over her partner's chilly body.

"I need to piss," she mumbled to herself before searching for a proper bathroom.

Luckily she was able to find an outhouse with a stained mirror, she could hardly make out her reflection between her poorly lit surroundings and the two-hundred-year old filth that had been caked on; but she managed to run a brush through her hair and apply a shaky layer of eyeliner. She stared at the battered stick smaller than her pinkie with a skeptical look, knowing soon she would be without it and she didn't know how she would make it.

Rose enjoyed makeup, not as much as those poster women, but she did like the way it sharpened or softened her features at her own will.

She exited the bathroom, adjusting her belt as she stared at the horizon; stars inched up through the trees, thick in strips and clusters, making Rose's mind wander. She would never get over the night sky, that people had once been floating through there. She sighed and jogged back to the gate, looking down at Deacon; he had curled into a ball of baldness and drool.

"D?" She shook him lightly with her boot but got no response. "Deacon," she dropped to her knees and patted the palm of her hand against the stubble peering through on his cheek.

"Uh," she slapped her hand away and turned on his side to continue his snore fest.

"Rude," she glared at him as she pinched his nostrils together, and covered his mouth with her other hand.

After a couple of quick seconds, he woke in a panic, limbs flailing around. "What the hell Rose," he snorted, adjusting his sunglasses; what douche where's sunglasses at night? Her douche, that's who.

"You didn't wake up," she shrugged.

"I had just gotten to sleep. You wouldn't stop touching me," he complained.

"Oh well. It's time to go," she smiled and jumped to her feet, offering Deacon a hand.

"Alright, meet me at the front gate, I need to take a leak," he gripped her hand firmly and hauled himself up.

Rose began making her way towards the rusted metal doors near the front to the establishment, trying to sneak out without disturbing any of the residents. The cat, Dora, was digging in the crops by the gate, eyeing her with big, green eyes as she crept towards it.

"Little late for a stroll don't ya think?" Swanson's thick accent broke the silence, Rose had the 10mm gun drawn and pointed towards the seemingly harmless doorman. "Whoa, whoa, I get it, you don't do curfews," Swanson had his hands raised defensively.

"Shit," Rose panted, lowering her gun. "Shouldn't sneak up on people like that," she warned, holstering the gun.

"Well, I'd say you're the one doing the sneaking, but you seem like the expert," he grinned, taking a seat behind his desk. "Do you mind if I ask where you're going?"

"Across the pond, we have some goods to deliver to a camp that's over there," Rose kept the detail about them being gunners to herself.

"Alright, you going out there by yourself?" He raised a brow in her direction.

"Wouldn't dream of it, my partners going to be joining me," she began tapping her foot impatiently; she hated idle chatter.

"Fella with the glasses? What's his name again?" Swanson began writing stuff down on a clipboard as her foot came to a halt.

She had remembered them discussing names earlier in the day, but she couldn't remember Deacon's undercover name for the life of her. There was no doubt in her mind that this was a test, this whole group of people probably sniffed out the weak link; being her.

"His name is-"

The metal door creaked open once again and Deacon appeared with a duffle bag tossed over his shoulder and a nasty look spread across his face.

"Sorry to bother, my ears were burnin," Deacon glanced between the two conversing with an overly convincing smile.

"No bother. You be safe out there," Swanson sent Deacon and Rose on their way.

Once the two were out of ear shot Deacon glared down at Rose.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled under her breath.

"I know under cover isn't your strong suit, but come on Rose! I used a damn easy name that I knew you would remember," Deacon huffed.

"I'm sorry!" She apologized again with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "What was it?"

"John," Deacon turned his eyes forward and continued walking ahead of her.

"You don't get to get pissy at me and then just walk away," she followed after him, raising her voice an octave. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean, that I'd remember the name "John"?!"

"I just hope you'd remember the name of the man you've been fooling around with," Deacon spat again.

"What does that have to do with anything!" Rose shouted, missing the point.

"Just forget it, and keep your voice down, were almost there," Deacon walked ahead of her again, leaving her infuriated.

"Fuck you!" She shouted again, picking up a good sized rock and sent it soaring towards Deacon's back.

"What the shit Rose!" He turned to face her. Although she couldn't see his eyes she felt them piercing through her.

"Are you jealous because you're like in love with me or something," Rose furrowed her brows, full of emotions.

"You know what. You are so god damn full of yourself." Deacon continued to stare through his companion, chewing on the inside of his check. "I can do this on my own. Just head back."

"Fine!" Rose yelled, clenching her fists and turning her back on Deacon and making her way back to the settlement.

As she continued to make her way to their resting spot she dabbed at the tears forming in her eyes. Deacon and her didn't have too many arguments, but when they did it would be yelling for a while, followed by tears, then silence, and eventually one of them would break and apologize first. They both hated being angry at each other, so their fights only lasted a few days at a time, but she had to be honest that rarely did Deacon start them.

As Rose continued her journey something caught her attention, successfully distracting her from her petty little tiff with her partner.

The older gentleman who appeared to be mayor of the minuscule town was climbing down a wall of rocks that lead to three tunnels hidden by the lake. Rose cocked her head and moved a little closer, almost able to hear him cursing softly to himself as he waded through knee-deep water with a crinkled nose. He disappeared through the middle pipe, which had begun to give off a soft, red glow across the water and Rose cocked her head.

"What the hell," she whispered, crouching down as to continue speculating on what he was up to.

After a few minutes had passed without him returning she decided to go in after him; she followed down the same trail of rocks as Jacob and dropped into the freezing lake. The radiation collected throughout the water began stinging at the pores of her skin and singing the hairs on her arms.

"Shit!" She cursed as she swam through the same tunnel hole as the shady mayor had traveled through.

This was dumb, this was so dumb, so incredibly dumb, no doubt Deacon was already looking for her after she had dropped into silence instead of petty, angry little comments. But she didn't have time to run to Deacon, call out his name, break cover, fuck up another part of their mission to establish cover - she could do this by herself anyway, she knew how to sneak around.

A blue metal door stopped the flow of water, Rose looked the door up and down, contemplating if it would be safer to get Deacon and Giles. No, no something could happen and I won't fuck this up. Giles will have his cover blown if he just disappears in the middle of the night, and fuck Deacon at this particular moment...

She placed a shaky hand over the rusted knob and swallowed hard, pushing down and pressing her weight against the cold metal.

The sewers were dimly lit, she had almost zero visibility as she journeyed on, readying her hand at her thigh for a quick draw. She took in deep breaths though her mouth, not being able to stomach the stench of whatever had died down here.

Finally there was an opening with light, and voices discussing business in hushed tones.

"A group of three dropped by today, one of them has to be a synth!" Jacob's voice was bordering disgust and excitement.

"Well which one? We can't just test all three," another man spoke out, annoyance lingering in his voice.

"I'm not sure, the ring leader seems like a good bet, he's charming as all get out, but the chick that's traveling seems on edge; like she's hiding something. And the last guy just doesn't say much, he's stiff as a statue," Jacob explained.

"Without proof-"

The men stopped conversing as Rose looked down; noticing the ginormous shadow she was casting against the sewer wall.

"Aw fuck."

"Hey!" The unnamed man yelled, jumping down from his spot on the perch.

Rose turned to run, but her soaked clothing slowed her down, she was able to get a few seconds head start but that didn't help her in the least. The man reached for her, catching her in a headlock, cutting off her air supply. She kicked and thrashed in his arms, digging her nails in but he had on some sort of armor that it did no good against. The loud crash of water kicked up from her struggle was the loudest thing in her ears, the ominous figures crowding her making it even worse as she started to go limp.

"That's right, go to sleep," he whispered in her ear as her surroundings began to fade and eventually disappear all together.

Also, a thank you to the lovely people that have reviewed and faved and followed this story, its really appreciated. We're open to hearing any opinions of suggestions, just don't be a total dick about it m'kay? Some people go way too far and break our spirits.