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"Yes, yes – plenty of times, though I still think you were too hyped on Sugar Bombs and Mentats to know the difference from reality and dreams." Vase answered smarmily.

"Hey, that place is REAL!" Sarah snapped. "Besides, I’m no chem-head. Aside from the occasional Stimpak, I’m all natural, baby. At any rate, you never answered my question about your pal. Does 3-Dog have any insight about the project?"

"I don’t think 3-Dog knows about the G.E.C.K. I helped him rid his front porch of a Behemoth once. If he knew about it, he’d have told me by now." Vase reasoned. "Listen; Fawkes will be waiting for me at the history museum. We’ll need to get there by dawn."

Sarah didn’t like the idea of making a rendezvous with a super-mutant. Most of her teen life had been spent training to kill their kind, and another four years afterward, she earned her merit among the knight’s Brotherhood by exterminating dozens from their enclave territories. It seemed ridiculous for her to team up with a super-mutant, even if Vase Vintage claimed the thing could speak and think.

"Are you sure about this Fawkes mutant? I never met a super-mutant that could put more than two sentences together without trying to tear off my head." Lyons argued.

"Fawkes is different. He’s intelligent and honorable. Those traits are hard to find anywhere in the wasteland. I’ve known knights less articulate than him – no offense." Vase responded with a wink.

"None taken, sweetie. Well, here’s the Shishkabob you wanted me to make. The damn thing cost me plenty of caps, too. Not the whole thing, mind you, but the parts to make it. It’s hard as hell to find motorcycle handbrakes so far from The Mall."

As Sarah swung her armored arm over Vase to caress her slim waist, Vintage playfully handled the weapon she’d created with expert ease. The Shishkabob was an odd but practical weapon. Created by forging a lawnmower blade, with the flammable liquid fuel from a motorcycle gas tank, the sharp sword could deliver both burn and cut with one swift swing. It was Vase’s favorite, but the task this night was to acquire a weapon far more powerful. Vase turned and gave Sarah a long passionate kiss, winning her charisma points as far as trust was concerned.

"Thanks, Sarah, it’s beautiful." She cooed.

"Ha, only you would think a rusty, flaming blade is actually beautiful." Sarah jibbed.

Vase Vintage couldn’t stop herself from giggling. It was nice to be among friends, especially ones as close as Sarah was. She and Sarah packed up their gear and whistled for their dog to join them.

"Come on, Dog-Meat; we got to pass feral ghoul country to get to Rivet City." Vase said as if the wily dog could actually understand her.

"I hate ghouls, they creep me out big time!" Lyons pressed. "Not so much as the diseased type, but the crazy ones."

"Well, ghouls are people, too – kind of." Vase retorted. "Leastwise, we should be able to get to Girdershade unscathed. Sierra Petrovita is holding something special for us when we get there."

"Damn, I knew we couldn’t just speed to Rivet City. Now we’re embarking on some boring road trip to Girdershade first?" Sarah complained. "Doctor Li won’t be happy if we’re late."

"She’ll just have to wait. I told you we’d have to pass it up anyway. Consider yourself lucky, we’re not scavenging the Dunwich Building, I found some very interesting holo-tapes in the lobby there." Vase smiled deviously.

"You’re as stubborn as a Bloat-Fly bitten Brahman, Vase. You may be the best pick-pocket in dead DC, but I know where your heart is." Sarah grinned.

"Good, then you know I have to fulfill my father’s oath. Sierra Petrovita can help us reach our goals faster than you think." Vintage smirked.

"Vase, Sierra is a little slow in the head if you hadn’t noticed. Not that I don’t like the dim-wit, it’s just that I hate how her neighbor stares at me. I swear, if Ronald Laren says another chauvinistic thing to me, I’m gonna’ blast him!"

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