AN: PLEASE READ THIS SO YOU DON'T GET CONFUSED. This chapter is before Yuri and Viktor meet.

"In for a penny, in for a pound"

Viktor pushes his goggles up onto his head. The sun is bearing down on him but thankfully the wind isn't as fierce as it was. He pats himself down trying to rid himself of excess dirt. The dilapidated house isn't much to look at, in fact the roof is half gone and is barely covered by a tarp, but it serves it's purpose. Housing the devil. With one more shake he opens the doors, dodging the wrench that is thrown his way.

"That is no way to greet a friend," Viktor chides dodging yet another thing tossed his way.

"You're not my friend Vitya!"

"Fine, how about a repeat customer?" he asks with a smile at the young face behind the counter. The blond scrunches up his face.

"That is better… I guess."

"You make me feel so loved," Viktor says dramatically placing a hand on his heart.

"Shut up and show me what you have to sell."

Viktor slings off his augmented backpack off his shoulders. It's a simple brown leather bag, indistinguishable from nearly any other bag if not for the careful stitching of micromesh that allowed the bag to expand to hold many items. He's not sure where it came from, other than it certainly wasn't made in that little hovel he found it in, it could be Vault-Tec for all he knows. Yuri waits patiently, if one counts tapping one's foot as patient, while Viktor digs out what he wants to sell. With a deep breath Viktor steels himself for bartering with the tiger devil of Fetching Felines Exchange Shop.

"You're trying to drive me out of business ain't ya? Twenty caps for each bullet? Five caps," Yuri says with narrowed eyes.

"Now you are trying to kill me. These were hard to get! Fifteen," counters Viktor.

"Five."

"Thirteen."

"Five."

"Ten."

"Deal. Now I'll take that armor off of you for three," Yuri says with a cheshire grin as he swaps the bullets for caps.

Viktor splutters for a moment.

"You have to be kidding."

"Do I?"

And on it continues. Until everything Viktor wants to sell is gone and he's just barely richer. Especially after he finishes restocking. The door to the back of the shop, where the good things that Yuri saves for the richer customers are kept, opens and a ghoul steps out.

"Yakov!" Viktor calls out cheerfully waving at the ghoul. A saying his mother would mutter when Viktor asked why so many of the townspeople spoke Russian and shunned those who didn't comes to mind as Yakov let's out a string of Russian curses. Birds of a feather, flock together. Yakov looks up from the box in his arms. There is a scowl on his square face that Viktor wonders if it was scorched onto it or just his default look.

"Vitya. Finally home or still roaming and making your parents roll over in their graves?"

"Scavenging, not roaming," Viktor corrects shouldering his bag. It's a bit awkward with his rifle holstered but he has gotten used to it.

"Same thing," Yakov tuts severely, placing the box next to Yuri. Both humans wince at the pops that the ghoul's elbows make.

"I wasn't young when I became a ghoul and I'm certainly not any younger. Creaks and cracks are to be expected."

Viktor thinks that 'not any younger' may be an understatement as there are more bits falling off of him than staying on. Which causes a part of him to wonder what the ghoul looked like before Yakov lost his nose and chunks of his skin. The ghoul has been around for as long as Viktor can remember. The grumpy uncle that is always there. His mother said that Yakov was searching for his ex-wife when the bombs fell. That the old ghoul had had a homemade shelter he had wanted to share with her. Romantic his mother had sighed. Idiotic his father had sniffed. Viktor wasn't sure what he thought about that other than Yakov used the time he had as a ghoul to become a damn fine teacher. All one had to do to see that is look at Yuri! Yakov had taught Yuri everything he knew about shop keeping and let the young blond apprentice in the shop, then called The Exchange, and now everyone walks with a lighter purse.

"If you insist on going out there see if you can find medical supplies. Mila is running low again," Yakov says going back to what he calls his office. Viktor gives the ghoul's back a salute and starts backing up toward the door.

"Wait" Yuri calls out with a light blush, "Do you have any information on Altin?"

"No but I'll tell you if I hear anything," Viktor promises the now crestfallen blonde. Yuri pulls himself together muttering something under his breath that Viktor doesn't catch.

"Until next time," he says with a flourish leaving the store. He's been in one place too long. He needs to move. Gypsy feet some had called it, a wanders heart others said. It's a blessing and a curse both to Viktor. But there isn't anything, anyone, to keep him in this town now that his parents are dead. And there is a wide world out that needs explored and scavenged. The travel books in his bag burn and he starts toward the clinic before changing directions and heading toward the bar instead.

Anya is standing behind the counter, her current beau sits across from her. The Stilted Princess is rather empty for the time of day that it is. It's a miracle that Georgi isn't here in a corner staring at Anya with love in his eyes.

"The prodigal son returns!" Anya calls out jovial enough despite the gleam in her eyes. The first drink is on the house but he's here for food at a more reasonable price and gossip that can lead to profit, not drinks. She waits for him to take a drink before leaning in and whispering:

"There's rumors going around that a couple of Vault Dwellers are out and about. Scurrying around like radroaches. You never know what they are carrying. Might even have a water purifier chip."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained."