Spade LeJeune twiddled a bottle cap along his fingers, inhaling deeply on his cigarette- his last one and it was almost down to the filter, he scowled- as he watched the crowds move past him along the streets of Freeside. A few women with painted lips and powdered cheeks called after him, giggling and flaunting the low hemline of their skin-tight dresses. He eyed the one in the middle.
She was smaller than the others, ginger curls and wide green eyes that betrayed her inexperience at her trade. Gambling debts, he wondered. Perhaps not her, but a family member? You never knew in this city. His stomach twisted and he shifted his amber eyes to gaze straight ahead, spitting the filter of his cigarette out on the street.
He hadn't been back in Vegas for months, he bitterly noted that not much had changed. Same filthy streets, same filthy residents. Even the lights shining on the other end of the gate didn't make the place seem like the "paradise" it was meant to be. The beautiful red, blue, and yellow lights sparkling in the night sky did nothing but accentuate the ugliness surrounding him.
To be fair, he relented, Freeside was not the Strip. The Strip's casino resorts could boast pre-war beauty and they did add an aesthetic appeal to the Mojave. But, when you looked deep inside, the Strip was just as ugly as the city surrounding it. Uglier even.
Spade flashed his papers to the securitron at the gate, not pausing for any sign of recognition, and entered the Strip. He was tired, traveling around the Mojave was an exhausting job, but he knew where he could get a good night's rest before his next assignment. He shifted his courier bag on his shoulder and ran a hand through his auburn hair, grimacing as dust puffed out under his palm. Damn desert.
He turned right, heading past the dancers and throng of NCR soldiers to Gomorrah. The cesspool of the Strip, but at least he knew the rooms were private. He marched up to the front desk and slapped his hand down on the wood.
The receptionist jumped and fumbled with his pre-war magazine, pushing it under the desk to hide the half-naked woman on the cover. He looked up at Spade and blinked, fixing his sunglasses with one hand and marking his place with the other.
"Oh! Mr. LeJeune, good to see you again."
"Having fun, Hawkings?"
Anthony Hawkings laughed nervously and smoothed his suit out before standing to shake Spade's hand. Spade gripped it firmly before handing over his battered 9mm pistol and combat knife.
"Come now, Mr. LeJeaune," Hawkings chided at Spade's frown, "you know we'll take good care of them. Your usual room is ready, I'll write you in. Would you like us to send one of the girls up to you?"
"Clover," Spade drawled. He reached into his bag and pulled out a .44 magnum, Hawking's eyes widened.
"Well, that's certainly a new one."
"You'd be surprised at what you can pick up." Spade smirked, sliding it over the counter.
"Indeed," The Omerta thug turned the gun over in his hands before setting it aside with Spade's other possessions. "As for Clover, I'm afraid she's with another client at the moment. Ah! But, I'm sure we can send her to you as soon as she's finished!" He quickly amended, seeing Spade's eyes narrow dangerously.
"See that you do," Spade dumped a pile of caps onto the desk, "I want her all night." With that, he turned and marched through the casino, making a beeline for the elevator. Hawkings gulped as he watched him leave, then scribbled his name down in the overnight list and put his caps in the lockbox. He took the weapons and opened the private safe, his eyes resting on the .44.
You'd be surprised at what you can pick up.
Hawkings shook his head and locked the weapons in.
Spade closed the door but left it unlocked for when Clover would arrive. He knew it could be hours depending on how much the customer paid. He sighed and dumped his bag on the bed, pulling his boots off and unbuckling his armor. Some of the other couriers mocked him for the leather, but Spade wasn't naïve. He knew some of the deliveries he made were to less than upstanding individuals. He knew men who died on lesser jobs, just for knowing who the package was sent to. Call him cautious, crazy, paranoid, but at least he was alive.
He stepped into the bathroom, peeling the leather from his sweaty, sun-kissed skin. The casino was hot- hell the whole Mojave was hot!- and smelled of smoke, sex, and booze. The combination was suffocating to him and he quickly turned the faucet in the shower for cold water. The pipes groaned and creaked but a spray of clear water rushed out from the shower head. Discarding the rest of his armor, he stepped under the chilling spray, sighing in relief as it cooled his scorching skin.
Fuck the casinos, the bright lights, the women. This was paradise.
Spade grabbed a cloth and began to wipe himself down, making sure all the dust and mud was washed from his skin completely. Bringing the washcloth to his face, he felt the stubble on his cheek. But, seeing as weapons of any kind were forbidden inside the casino, he'd have to wait to shave. He grimaced but finished cleaning up. He ran his hands through his hair to get the dust and grime out, not stopping until he could move his fingers freely through the strands.
He needed a haircut too, he mused, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. Only when the water cascading off his body was as clean as the water pouring from the showerhead did he turn the faucet off and step out of the shower. He grabbed an old towel hanging on the wall and dried himself and his hair before dumping it unceremoniously in the corner of the bathroom.
He left his armor, it stank and he'd have to find a way to freshen it up just a bit before heading out tomorrow, but for now he returned to the bedroom and rummaged through his bag for something more casual. He slipped on a pair of holey, faded jeans and a burgundy muscle shirt, deciding that they smelled the least like cigarette smoke.
He'd need to remember to pick up a few more packs before he left the city again.
A soft knock at the door caught his attention. He pulled his bag off the bed and kicked it underneath.
"It's open."
The door opened slowly and she stepped in, amber eyes down cast, face partially covered by her auburn curls. Spade's breath caught in his throat. She closed the door behind her and when she finally mustered the courage to look at her client, she gasped.
"Spade!"
"Clover," He opened his arms as she ran to him, holding her tightly as she sobbed, feeling her desperately grip the back of his shirt as his chest grew damp with her tears.
"You've been gone so long, I thought…"
"It's alright, Clo. I always come back, you know that."
Clover nodded but didn't stop crying. Spade pet her hair and rocked her gently, whispering soothing words into her ear.
She tilted her head and kissed him, bringing her hands around to cup his face.
"Look at you," she sighed. "Every time you come back you look so different."
"I'm still your brother, Clo."
"Yes," she smiled through her tears and Spade kissed her nose.
"Your make-up is ruined," he noted. Clover laughed and wiped at the black streaks of her eyeliner with the back of her hand.
"I don't know why I did that, I'm just so happy to see you."
"It's ok," Spade sat her down on the edge of the bed. "How have you been?"
Clover smiled weakly.
"It's been wonderful. Today, you and I went to lake Mead. We went out on a boat to the middle of the lake and watched the clouds go by. We ate lunch and you played your old guitar and sang to me. When the sun set, we docked and built a bonfire on the shore and danced together until it burned out. There were shooting stars and we both made a wish."
Spade frowned and ran his fingers through Clover's curls.
"That bad?"
Clover sniffled. "You?" she asked meekly.
Spade paused for a moment.
"We found an oasis," he began. "A beautiful beach, with trees and flowers, like we used to read about in those old books. There's a house, just for us. We eat sweet fruit and swim in the water, and there are birds with different colored feathers." He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be lost in the fantasy. "We're far away from here, in a place all our own. No one knows about it and no one will ever find it. Just you and me and we're so happy."
Clover hugged her brother and he buried his face in her hair.
"We'll do all that and more," he promised her.
"I know."
"I mean it," Spade pulled himself from his sister's embraced to look her in the eyes. "I'm getting this job, Clo. It's worth a lot of money, just a simple pick-up and deliver. Once it's finished, I can pay the Omertas what dad owed and we can go. Just you and me, like we always dreamed."
Clover smiled softly and caressed her brother's cheek. Twenty years old, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was unfair, as twins they had shared everything, and he had to shoulder this burden alone. She kissed him softly, not letting herself get excited over the news. There was always another debt owed, always another price to pay, her brother never let that deter him, however. He was always so certain that the next job would be the key to the shackles binding her to the Omertas.
"Just be safe."
"Always." His face grew stern, "I'll never hurt you this way, Clo," he swore, "I'll never become him."
"I know, Spade."
He nodded and tried to stifle a yawn. Clover smiled and repositioned herself behind him to rub his shoulders.
"Get some rest, you look like you need it." When Spade shook his head, she sighed. "For me?"
"I haven't seen you in months, I just wanted to spend time with you."
"And you will," she assured him. "Just sleep for now, I'll spend the morning with you until you leave." He didn't look appeased. "I'm spending the night, if you wake up I'll still be here."
"You've said that before. When I opened my eyes the next morning, you were halfway to Gomorrah."
Clover frowned and kissed her brother's hair.
"Well, they can't ship me anywhere else. I'll be right next to you, I promise."
Spade blinked slowly and sighed as his shoulders relaxed under her ministrations.
"I…ok."
Clover smiled and laid her brother down on the bed, going into the wardrobe to find a clean blanket to cover him with. His eyes were already closed and his breaths evening out when she tucked the blanket around him. Clover crawled in beside him and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her.
"Don't you trust me?" She whispered with a small giggle.
"Trust kills," Spade murmured.
Clover frowned and opened her mouth to retort but paused, burying her face into his chest.
Spade was already asleep.
Please leave a review, if you would! I couldn't decide between my two couriers, so I'm using both of them! Though, Spade is the only Courier now. I have big plans for this story and I'm really excited about it, I hope it's nothing like what you've read in the past!