"So what do you think, babe?"

Chloe stands before the RV, arms held out towards it, even bouncing a bit. She's just a couple weeks off the cane, and this only confirms my suspicions that she milked the whole experience for as much as it was worth. On the other hand, she hated the thing at first, and wouldn't shut up about how much she did until I bought her this elegant black lacquered walking stick with a pewter skull on the top. Afterwards, she found any excuse she could to show it off, so I suppose I should be flattered she was so reluctant to give it up.

We're at an estate sale, on an early May morning, looking over the flotsam and jetsam of those who rode the waves of the credit-fueled American Dream until they got too close to the rocky shoals of financial uncertainty, crashing upon the banks of...okay, sorry, I'm stretching this metaphor out waaaay too long.

The important part here is that recreational vehicles? Are like ridiculously expensive under normal circumstances. If we bought one new, there would be barely anything left of the money Chloe got, so I got creative. Starting looking around for opportunities. Which brings us back to here. This 2002 Fleetwood Tioga. I'll admit, the outside is in pretty good shape. It's been well used, but for an eleven year old RV, the milage is just a bit below average. Still a lot of years left in it. And really, we only need one. Although I'd like a lot more. I'd like to think this thing is going to be a keeper.

Still...

"It...it has potential. But sweetie, the engine. While I don't know a lot about that sort of thing, I'm pretty sure whatever we saw under the hood a few minutes ago is not good. That was definitely an engine with problems. Deep, intense, personal problems."

She shrugs at me, undeterred. "So? If you get this for anywhere close to what you're shooting for, we can probably just BUY a new engine. Or get a sweet rebuild."

I muse this over for a few moments, "That's true...and I do know a mechanic in town who owes me a favor or two."

Chloe tilts her head and smirks, "Oh really now? I didn't know that. How did you pull that off?" She drifts over, and grins, making a mock threatening fist, and states in an exaggerated, cartoony voice, "Because if the answer is anything other than he was bedazzled by your general awesomeness, Chloe's gonna have to punch a mechanic..."

I snort and lean up to kiss her on the tip of her nose. "Chill, Homer. I did some graphic design work for ads, and set him up with a webpage on the Internet." She leans in and hugs me gently, murmuring, "All right then. Violence averted. This time."

I lean against her and guide her towards the RV. "Fine, sweetie. Why don't we go inside and take a look around? Maybe there'll be an impromptu anger management session going on."

"If that's code for smoking weed, I would be so down with that."

Whatever waning enthusiasm I had for our potential purchase drops considerably once we poke around inside. It's not that it's busted up or dirty or anything like that. Honestly, in terms of outright condition, it was in pretty decent shape, and obviously well cared for. It's just that, in terms of actual appearances...

"Hooooly shit, this is a total geezer-mobile!" What Chloe lacks in tact, she makes up for in spot-on summation. Between the paisley upholstery, the lime green paneling coating the wood, the floral print blackout curtains, and the...I don't think they've invented a name for the shade of puce-beige that colors the carpeting.

I sigh heavily, crossing my arms as I poke around, muttering. "Geeze. Even the interior of Frank's RV had more taste and class than this."

"Buggy," - That's short for shutterbug. Chloe always likes to try out a new pet name every couple of weeks. "Frank didn't have any taste. Or class. At all."

"I repeat, even the interior..." A left-over Beanie Baby that was lying around on the couch gets tossed in my direction.

"All right, all right, fine. Yeah, I know this is a fixer upper, but if you manage to snag this baby without going over, everything else is fixable! ESPECIALLY this! I'm talking potentially. I mean look at us, two awesome art geek grrls! Well, maybe you more than me, but shit, you've seen my room. Now imagine all of that...all over here!" She punctuates the point by extending out her arms and waving her hands in random directions.

"Wellll..." I murmur, tapping my lips. "I mean, exams are almost over at Blackwell. I could probably get Kate, and a few of her friends to help us out. I don't know what we can easily do about the carpeting, but the rest..."

"Oh! I'll take care of that! Easy, right? I mean...I'll get...David to help me." She nodded once, and starts to wander around the rest of the cramped space. "He's handy with this kind of shit."

"Wow." I say, in a mostly-impressed voice. "It MUST be love at first sight if you would willingly ask Step-Darth for help. Do I have competition?"

She ambles over to me, and gently butts my head with hers. "Love? Yeah, maybe it is. But never competition." She gives me a brief smooch, and just HAS to add, "Although once we start having sex in this thing, does that count as a threesome?" I immediately hit her rear with the copy of the auction catalog in my hand.

"Behave!"

"Oh! Yes my lady Max, Former Mistress of Time and-or Space!"

I take her hand and lead her off.

"C'mon wiseguy. The bidding is gonna start soon. I want to double check some measurements on this thing first. Because you know we're going to be painting and decorating the outside as well."

"Oh. My God. Of course! I even have the greatest name picked out once we get her!"

"That's a big if, Chloe. We're not the only ones bidding, you know."

"Fuck them. She's ours! We're meant to be together, the three of us. The Pussywagon is ours!"

I nearly choke with shock, and then hit Chloe again with the catalog, this time on the back of her head. "Oh...God! We are NOT naming it that!"

She gives me the puppy-dog eyes, the ones that normally get me to relent. "But...but I'm only using the name ironically, babe."

I shake my head and continue dragging her out, "No. If we DO manage to somehow buy this thing, YOU are NOT allowed to name it. Period."

"Hey! No fair!" She reaches over, tracing her fingertips across the small of my back. "I mean...shouldn't that be up for negotiation?"

I bite down on my lip and suppress a shiver of delight. Still in the Oh-My-God-We're-Having-ALL-The-Sex phase of the relationship, Chloe has no shame about taking advantage of my weakness for her. But honestly, that's one of the reasons I love her.

Reluctantly I pull away, but soften it with a small peck on the lips. "Don't make me turn the rest of the weekend into a revival of Lysistrata"

She snorts and shakes her head, "Damn, Max, we're going all Aristophanes, now? You know thaaaat's gonna suck just as much for you as it would for me. Mayyybe even a bit more?" She gives me a knowing look, and I flush down to my chest. I don't know what's sexier: how she knows how to push my buttons, or the fact that there's still a big huge brain underneath that skater chick beanie.

Eventually the bidding began. The RV came up during the first third of the auction, so we didn't have to wait more than a half hour of people buying things, either junk that was pointless or stuff way, way out of our league. And to make a long story short...

...we managed to win it!

I have to admit, I'm actually kind of surprised. You'd think the bidding would have been more competitive, but the weather was really pretty shitty earlier this morning. Sudden Spring storms that cleared out at the last second, so that depressed a lot of the turnout, I think. We almost busted past the upper ceiling I allowed for, and we may need to cancel one or two things on our road trip in order to give ourselves enough of an emergency cushion but still...

It's ours. Chloe and I. We're joint property owners! Of a house! A crappy, cramped house, but on wheels! This is so cool! And so...so grown up. Shit, these days, owning a house together is more serious than marriage. Just the contractual issues alone.

I blush at the thought, and look over my shoulder towards her, then smile to myself. We're in no rush in this relationship, but yeah; someday soon, we gotta put a ring on it.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God. Babe. Babe, babe, babe...look. Look!"

Chloe's pulling at my arm and pointing at the lot that's come up for bid, with hyperfrentic glee.

"It's Princess Sparklefists!"

"Wait. Who?"

I gaze over and blink a few times in quick succession, then look up the description in the catalog.

LOT #0050

TWO (2) CUSTOM VINYL APPLIQUES, PROMOTIONAL

50" H x 46" W

FEATURES COMIC BOOK CHARACTER "CAPTAIN MARVEL"
ITEM(s) ORIGINALLY COMMISSIONED FOR COMIC WINDOW DISPLAY

REPOSSESSED TO AUCTION AFTER SHOP WENT INTO BANKRUPTCY

"Captain Marvel! We have to get that! We HAVE. TO!"

Chloe's more of the comic book geek, I have to admit. I'm somewhat familiar with the character, having read a few issues from Chloe's collection. And the Captain...is pretty cool. Carol Danvers. Awesome Air Force pilot turned into one of the world's most powerful superheroines. The decals are...I know I've seen it before. From the cover of one of the issues. She's in that completely bitching red and white suit with the high tabbed collar, pulling one of her gloves onto her fist. Hair in WAY better style than that weird mohawk thing from before. And it's a pair of them, mirror images, like they were meant to flank a shop door, pasted onto big plate glass windows.

Bidding is starting out slow, with someone willing to throw out thirty-five bucks to start.

"What are we going to do with a pair of big vinyl stickers?"

"I...I don't know! We'll figure it out. Here...gimme gimme!"

She grabs the auction paddle out of my hand and holds it out. "Forty-five!"

I gasp and glare at her. "Chloe! Seriously! Where are we going to put them?"

"We'll find a place!"

"Forty-five, forty-five, do I have fifty. Doooo I have fifty?"

"Fifty!"

Everyone turns over to look at the both of us. A few groans in the audience escape.

"Chloe!" I hiss. "Stop bidding against yourself!"

"S-sorry! I...oh God, I just want those decals so bad!"

I start to squint my eyes, as if staring at this thing through a skewed perspective will somehow give me an idea of...well...either what to do with it, or how to talk Chloe out of her insane quest to own it.

"Fifty-five!"

"Sixty!" Chloe immediately calls back. Damn. She will NOT be denied.

And that's when it suddenly hits me. I check the measurements again. Flip back to the page listing the RV - OUR new RV - and do some quick mental calculations.

Oh. Oh yes. Oh I TOTALLY see it now.

The bidding is up to eighty-five, and even Chloe's initial enthusiasm for this thing is starting to wane, as she counter bids in an increasingly nervous fashion. I reach out, wrapping my arm around her hips tight and lean in to give her strength and support.

"Ninty!"

"Ninty! Ninty! Who'll give me ninty-five, I say ninty-five!"

"One hundred and ten!" I call out, reaching over and lifting Chloe's arm up for her. I glance up, giving her my winningest smile.

"Babe!" she whispers "I...I really like the decal set, but how much can our budget take?"

"You let me worry about that, Punk Rock Girl. Let's focus on making sure the Captain comes home with us."

"Whoa. Kinky. But Momma like!"

We giggle conspiratorially, and keep the bidding war going.

It costs us almost two-hundred total, but we leave with both RV and decals in our possession. After the initial glow of conspicuous consumption fades, Chloe asks, with some nervousness in her voice, "Sweetie...I'm really thrilled you decided to go totes spontaneous here, but *please* don't tell me you spent all that money just to turn me on with your crazy devotion to my insane, impulsive plans. I mean, it totally worked, but still. You know me, I'm a cheap date...

I kiss her on the nose and whisper. "Wanna see a magic trick?"

She cants her head one way, and then other, her face a mask of confusion that seems to scream out, 'What shit you playing now, woman?'. She then gives a little shrug and says, "I guess...so?"

I grab a hold of one of the huge decals and work on dragging it over towards the side of the RV. With some effort I manage to hoist it up, holding it down against the conveniently sized blank spot on the side of the vehicle, just between the big windows.

"Et voila!" I call out with a flourish. "Shouldn't be too hard to figure out how to bond each one to a side."

Chloe holds out her hands, like she's framing a shot in a movie. She starts to giggle and jump a bit, "Oh shit! Oh God! Damn, yes! You are...Max, you're amazing!" She helps me bring the decal back down and then scoops me into her arms, kissing me fully on the lips. A kiss I'm more than happy to return, adding an additional nibble to the mix.

"Well. We've got a lot of work ahead of us, I suppose."

"Yeah. Yeah we do. Gonna be awesome though."

It was a three week whirlwind, getting everything ready before we could hit the road. Both of us working eight to ten hours a day or longer. Because remember what I said about becoming real adults? Yeah, buying an RV is a lot of work! For instance, I had to find insurance that wouldn't absolutely destroy our nest egg - although to be fair, I had most of that angle figured out before we bought it. But the thing is, you buy a motor home, it's kind of like getting a Harley, in that you join a weird cult or group. We got talked into joining the Good Sam Club, which I guess is like AAA for RV's?

(God, won't we be a pair? The teenage lesbian couple hanging around with all the retirees at the next club BBQ or something. Ha ha!)

Kate comes by, and Alyssa as well - Alyssa who still acts like she owes me a ton of favors after I used my future knowledge to warn her off from a bunch of random accidents. Even Warren pitches in, helping us get a hold of some cheapo GPS gear to fit into the RV.

Beyond all the paperwork and bureaucracy, the midnight oil gets burned overhauling the engine - it was pretty bad, but not a total loss. We did have to pull it out to fix it, and WOW did that suck. But it was still cheaper than buying a whole new one. But at least I now know a LOT more about how engines work and how to fix them than I did last month. Also: I have more grease than will can ever be removed, permanently trapped under my fingernails now. Gross!

I have to say though, it turned into a weird bonding experience between David and me, as well. I mean, we're not 'bros' or anything now, but for the first time, I think he's finally reached a state of okayness, or at least non-douchy acceptance about me and Chloe being a couple. It also kind of helped that I dropped out of Blackwell, and we didn't spend a bunch of time butting heads as student and security head.

Between all of us, and by that I mean, me, Chloe, Alyssa, Kate, Warren, and even Joyce - who is totally in her glory with the decorating - we pull some serious magic out of thin air. Our RV takes on a dark black base, all the better to contrast with all the crazy neon swirls and patterns. The best way to describe it is kind of like the tourbus of some Nineties rock band. Chloe and I take turns sitting back, looking it over, and pretending we're L7 or Sleater-Kinney, or even Hole, and that we're about to totally rock the nation, city by city.

The inside...I don't even know how to do it justice in words. Other than it's ours. Me and Chloes. A total fusion of our styles and tastes. Strings of Christmas lights, picture collages, various "Chloe-isms" painted in strategic spots. The worlds most amazing bedspreads and ceiling hangings. The disco ball, which I thought sounded tacky as shit at first, but just...really seems to work. With a million, billion tiny details laid down, we claim the RV as our own. With some accents and suggestions thrown in from friends and family. A labor of love in the truest sense of the word.

A couple days before we're scheduled to hit the road, Chloe and I are hanging out, late. Almost one in the morning. We had a celebratory party, to mark the occasion of finishing up all the prep work and packing. Everyone else has gone home by now, and it's just the two of us, slow dancing in our tiny, private world. And I realize: this is home. Ours. Hers and mine. No matter what happens outside these four walls, this will always be our first and best sanctum. Our private place. As special and sacred as her room became to us, this RV is even more so.

Looking down and giving a yawn, Chloe murmurs, "I guess we should be turning in, huh?"

I quirk my lips up into a wicked, lopsided smile, drift to the back where the bed lies, reach behind me and pull down the zipper in the back of the sundress I'm wearing. Shift my shoulders and let it fall off my body, pooling up into soft, peach waves around my feet.

"Bed sounds good. But I'm not all that tired yet."

Fortunately, neither was Chloe. It was a nice way to break the new place in.

It's the first of June, I think: the day we're heading off to see the world at large.

With a cheap bottle of sparkling cider in hand, I symbolically christen our awaiting chariot.

"I hereby dub thee...uh...The Princess Sparklefists Express!"

Chloe snorts, "You sure we can't go with Pus..."

"Yes! Very sure!" I say, raising my voice, and laying a couple fingers over her lips and mouth.

She smiles against them, gives the fingertips a kiss and then murmurs. "All right. Yeah, that's great. The Princess Sparklefists Express. The P.S.E. Pee, Ess...hey! You know, if you say it really fast, it totally sounds just like...OUCH!" I gently punch her in the side. Her good one, the one without the gunshot wound. I'm a harsh and demanding girlfriend, but I'm not a total bitch.

She headbutts me softly and murmurs, "Okay. Okay, I'll be good."

"Mmm. Don't be too good."

There's not much to say, other than a teary farewell. Hugs and email addresses and phone numbers are exchanged. Even though David gets a tiny bit choked, it's Joyce who turns into a hot mess.

"Oh God...I feel like...like both my daughters are leaving today." She kisses us both on the cheek. "Now you be sure to call. And I know you girls are adults now, and David and I can't go bailing you out, but seriously, if you get into trouble, you call me the instant..."

"Joyce. We'll be fine. I promise."

"Yeah, Mom. No sweat. For reals. Besides, I'm sure you're dying to turn my room into something else now."

Joyce gives her A Look, and then daubs at her wet eyes once more. "Well...just don't go forgetting Arcadia Bay. This is still your home. That'll never change.

She hugs us both at once, and Chloe and I look at each other over her shoulders. Like we're both thinking the same thing. Yeah, maybe Arcadia Bay was where we grew up. Where we met, and where we fell in love, and where we found each other again. But it's also kinda shitty, and there is still this creepy dread that hangs in the air; like a fading aura that just won't go away, an eternal mark of corruption left over, even though the Elder God is slain, and their bones lie rotting in the ground below.

(Man, that was macabre!)

But we need to get the fuck out of this place. Now.

We're gone finally, waving and smiling. Driving away, as everyone cheers us on.

"Oh shit FINALLY! I thought we'd never get out of there."

"Chloe, be nice." I lovingly admonish, as she starts to drive us out of town.

"I AM nice. You'll note that not once did I flip anyone the bird, or scream "FUCK YOU LATER, ASSHOLES!"." She wiggles in her seat. "I'm like a veritable picture of maturity and self restraint."

We glance at each other, for just a few seconds, then both turn out through our windows, and scream out,

"FUCK YOU LATER, ASSHOLES!" just as we're crossing through the county line.

The road ahead starts now. And I guess it ends in about fifteen months, in South Hadley, Massachusetts. But everything else, between those two points in time?

I have no idea. But damn, if it won't be awesome to find out!

A/N: So welcome to Riotgrrls In Love, which is going to be a fluff anthology of Chloe and Max's time together once they leave Arcadia Bay. It is a direct sequel to The Ever-Ending Sacrifice, my AU setting in Life Is Strange, once which rapidly diverges after Episode 3 (mostly because as of the time I started this series, only the first three episodes of the game were out).

This is a new thing for me. This is a series with no set schedule of end goal. I'll add to it as often or as little as I like, although I do already have at least three or four chapter ideas in the hopper, or halfway written out, and it will end...when it ends. The chapters may not even be presented in chronological order. But essentially, these are going to be slices of life in the Pricefield relationship, over the fifteen months our heroines spend on the road until Max goes to college in Western Massachusetts.

While I usually lime, I also reserve the right to go full lemon at any time. In fact, I definitely have a lemon piece coming up before too long, but I'll be sure to give fair warning for those chapters.

Also bear in mind that Max no longer has her powers. And I don't see them ever coming back. Again, this is more about romantic fluff than anything else, so in a sense, it stops being Life Is Strange, just a bit, and becomes more just The Chloe And Max Show.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to give me feedback, or even ideas of what you might like to see. It's not unknown for me to take audience ideas and work with them. That's how Old Soul and Pretty Good Year (some of my Mass Effect work) came about.

Have a great weekend!