This idea was inspired by a post on tumblr by skooth. Here's hoping it's up to snuff and that y'all enjoy it!


"Hey, I've got a question," the courier said, slowing slightly so he could turn and look at Christine.

The bald woman raised her eyebrows, pushing forward through the maze of tunnels. The more distance she could put between Elijah's grave and herself, the better. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that Elijah would find a way to escape and come after them.

"You've got that Vera lady's voice, right?"

"I guess," she muttered bitterly, hating the way the low, sultry tones sounded coming from her lips.

Six gave her a thoughtful look, catching her arm and slowing her pace when she tried to pass him. "He's not coming after us," the courier promised, though he released her when she jerked her arm away. "Sorry. Look, I'm just curious. I know you talk like Vera, but... Can you sing like her?"

Christine blinked. The thought hadn't ever occurred to her, not that she had had much time to think about it. In the dim safety lights of the tunnels, Six was giving her a cautious look. "I... don't know."

The man seemed ready to ask her something, but closed his mouth and shrugged. "Just a thought." He looked off down the bunker tunnel and sighed. "How much farther do you think it is?"

Christine rolled her shoulders and shrugged, rubbing at the scar under her chin gently. "No idea. I was unconscious when I got dragged through here. Last thing I remember is that radio, and then the goddamn Auto-Doc." The courier grunted in answer and they continued on, but Christine couldn't shake the thought Six had brought to her mind.

Her throat still ached if she spoke for too long at a time, but it didn't stop her from trying to hum under her breath. From what she could tell, the noise was pleasant, but she decided to wait to try again until she'd quit running for her life.

It took them another few hours to finally make their way back to the abandoned bunker, and the haunting sight of the lone radio put both the courier and Christine on edge. Six wanted to check out a small room he'd discovered, but it was locked and Christine couldn't help but be grateful.

Apparently Six had stashed his gear in a locker, and he stopped to gather it again, giving Christine a rifle and a decent set of armor. They suited up and divided up the gear, then started climbing the ladder to freedom.

Six went first, shoving the manhole cover out of the way and heaving himself out of the tunnel. He turned and caught Christine's arm, hauling her up and onto the sand. She sat there for a minute, trying to grasp the fact that she was back in the Mojave. As the courier slid the manhole cover back over the bunker, it fell shut with a ringing finality.

Christine and Six looked at each other for a minute before they both sagged with relief. Their nightmarish stint at the Sierra Madre was over. They were safe. Six crawled over and hugged her, murmuring out his thanks for their survival. Christine stiffened at the embrace, having not really been touched in years. After a moment, the bald woman relaxed slightly and let the warmth and friendship wrap around her.

Six broke away and grinned at her wearily, then looked down at his Pip-Boy. "God, it's nice to see familiar territory. You hungry?"

The pair trudged north, ending up in Camp Forlorn Hope. Christine balked at the idea, but Six quickly promised that NCR wouldn't do anything. He mentioned something about setting up a treaty, but Christine was too busy eyeing the two-headed bear on the flag above their heads to listen.

They ate and showered, and Six paid the doctor to look them both over before they left the camp. Christine hadn't realized how irradiated she had been, but once the RadAway took effect, she felt much stronger and more like the soldier she had once been.

Off in the distance, the Lucky 38 shot up into the sky, a symbol of the oasis in the midst of the desert.

Six sipped at a water bottle he'd bought at the camp, looking over to Christine. "So. I don't suppose you've thought any about what your plans are now?"

Christine shrugged and adjusted the bag of gear on her shoulder. "Not really. Always figured when Elijah went down, he'd take me with him."

Six nodded thoughtfully, offering her a drink. "How about joining the Brotherhood again?"

"I'm an exile," Christine reminded him sourly. "I don't think I'd want to go back, anyway. I'm too… Too much has changed." She was quiet for a while, lost in thought. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

The pair walked in silence for nearly an hour, avoiding the occasional gecko and letting the miles pass under their feet. Darkness fell as they walked, and the Strip cast an eerie glow into the night sky. Six and Christine stopped to make camp, neither one wanting to continue on through the dark.

Christine took a rifle and shot some food while Six set up a fire and a few bedrolls. By the time she returned with two sizeable gecko steaks, the courier had a large crackling blaze going while he lounged nearby on one of the bedrolls. When he heard her coming, Six hopped up and took over the cooking.

They settled into their camp and ate as stars blinked into existence above them. Once the meal was over, Six turned his Pip-Boy radio on and tuned it until he found a station he liked.

A twangy country song echoed from the wrist computer, filling the silence between them. Six waited until the song was fading before he turned to look at her. "Did you think any more about singing?"

Christine shrugged, reaching up to trace the scar across her throat self-consciously. "Not really, no."

Six clicked the radio off and looked at her. "Try the one we just heard. Gimme a few bars or something."

Christine shot him an incredulous look. "I wasn't even really listening!"

The courier sighed and turned the radio back on, scanning through the frequencies until he found a new song. "Okay, pay attention to this one." No sooner had the words left his mouth than did Mr. New Vegas cut in with an announcement about ghouls and rocket ships. "Seriously?! Damn it."

Christine snorted while Six laughed at his poor luck, and the pair shared a wry grin.

"Okay, fine," Six relented. "No radio track. But I'm still curious. Do you know anything off the top of your head?"

It was obvious that the courier wasn't about to drop it, so Christine gave in and started thinking through any music she knew. It sickened her, but the song that first occurred to her was one that Six had collected during their time inside the Sierra Madre. She'd only heard it once, sung by her own new voice, but knowing that Vera's skeleton was in the room behind her had made the charming melody chilling. Christine tried to push it aside and think of a different song, but Vera's voice was stuck in her head and she scowled at the campfire in front of her.

Sudden embarrassment rushed through her when she opened her mouth, and she gave Six a nervous glance. He just nodded encouragingly so Christine closed her eyes and started singing Vera's song. Put on the spot, she couldn't remember as much of it as she'd thought, but the few lines she could manage was enough. Even through her ears, her own singing voice sounded pleasant, yet the tune was haunting in her ears.

She opened her eyes and looked at Six uncertainly. His jaw was set but his eyes were awed.

"Jesus," he muttered after a second. "Could've picked a less… scary song, but holy cazadors, Christine."

"That bad?" she asked, looking down at her hands and picking at a scab she found there.

"Hell no! That was better than anything I've heard on any radio station, and trust me when I say I've heard plenty of them between here and the Core region." Six reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Look, I know this guy on the Strip, Tommy Torini. He runs this theater there. I found him a few comics and a singer or two, and…"

Christine felt the blood drain from her face. "What, get up on a stage and sing? Me?"

Six nodded slowly. "Just for a little while, maybe not even that often. Just as something to do while you get back on your feet. You'd get a few caps, maybe a room in the casino… Whaddya think?"

The scarred woman swallowed and tried to imagine herself on a stage with a crowd at her feet. The thought of all the eyes on her made her falter and she shot Six a disbelieving look. "I think anyone would be out of their mind if they wanted to put me on a stage. I'm not exactly your usual pretty celebrity." She hugged a knee to her chest and pretended the thought didn't hurt. "I feel like a ghoul."

"Well, Tommy's hired ghouls before, so that shouldn't be a problem," the courier teased gently. "You've got the rest of your life to figure out what to do, Christine. But it wouldn't hurt to at least go talk to him. It'd be a good way to get you back into the world."

Christine gave him a sharp look, but realized that he had a point. Her entire life had been focused on hunting Elijah for so long that she'd almost forgotten what it was like to exist without being concerned about tracking her target. Adjusting to regular life was going to be necessary for her survival, and there weren't likely to be better opportunities than this one. She nodded slowly, looking up at Six.

The courier seemed relieved and flashed her a smile. "Great. Tomorrow we'll head for the Strip."

The two settled down to go to bed not long after, with Six offering to take the first watch. Despite their exhaustion, the Sierra Madre haunted them, and they stayed awake long into the night, mistaking every sound in the wasteland for Ghost People creeping up to end them.

=====:=====

The rest of their journey to the Strip passed relatively quickly. Christine started talking more and more, and Six, in a rather obvious attempt to help her entertain the idea of singing, kept his Pip-Boy radio turned on most of the time. Christine found her scars growing less tight the more she spoke, and her voice grew less raspy with the continued use of it.

She and the courier talked randomly, with Six asking a few questions about her past now that she could actually answer them. Christine talked around Veronica, unwilling to revisit the memories that still ached.

As they neared Vegas, Christine realized that she was about to be reintegrated into Mojave life whether she liked it or not, and wondered if the Brotherhood would recognize her. She snorted to herself; she was physically changed, that much was for sure, but her name remained, and that was what worried her.

"Hey Six?"

The courier picked off a gecko through the sight on his rifle before answering. "Hm?"

"I… look, the Brotherhood and I… Since I'm an exile, they'd probably hunt me down if they knew I was here."

Six looked surprised but nodded slowly.

"Just… can you not use my name? I don't think they'll recognize me, but who knows. I think it might be better if 'Christine Royce' disappears." She shrugged as casually as she could, looking away.

After a few moments, the courier sighed. "I get that. Yeah, I'll—I won't tell anyone. I'll just say I met you at a casino. No Brotherhood ties that way, sound good?"

Christine nodded appreciatively, spotting another gecko down the hill. It didn't seem to be hunting and was far enough away that Christine decided they were safe. "Thanks, Six." She offered him a hesitant smile, and the courier just nodded.

He pointed out a few landmarks that were becoming visible, including NCR's monorail into the Strip, then the pair lapsed into silence until they walked into Freeside.

Six brushed off a few warm greetings and told Christine about the Kings as they walked closer to the huge buildings of the Strip. She listened and nodded in the appropriate spots, looking at the surroundings in awe. Christine stopped short when she nearly ran into something, and looked up to see a large robot with a scowling soldier's face on the screen.

"Move along," the securitron ordered, and Christine backed away, lifting her hands in surrender.

"It's fine, she's with me," Six said, holding up a passport.

The securitrons whirred for a moment then rolled aside. "Enjoy your time on the Strip."

Christine was stunned as the enormous gate rolled open and she got her first glimpse of the Strip. It was clean and brightly lit, with flashing lights and people milling around everywhere.

The courier chuckled at the look on her face, putting a hand on her shoulder and guiding her across the Strip. "Tommy's theater is in the Tops, see it over there? It's not—"

A Gomorrah hooker interrupted the courier by stepping in front of Christine and all but giving the bald woman a lap dance. "Hey honey," she purred, gyrating around in front of Christine. "Looks like you could use a little lovin'."

Christine felt a blush creeping up her neck, unable to tear her gaze away from the barely-clothed woman before her.

"Not interested," Six replied, catching Christine's arm and hauling her away. "It's one of the better places to go get laid," he admitted, "but I think we oughta talk to Tommy first."

Christine nodded distractedly, shaking her head to try and clear the visions of the woman's dark skin and the leather that hugged her curves. It had been far too long since she'd slept with a woman, and memories of Veronica danced through her mind. She swallowed hard and looked up at the big white building before them.

"This is the Tops," Six announced proudly. "If Tommy likes what you've got, this can be your new home. It's pretty decent, even if the Chairmen are a little strange. At least they're not creepy like the White Gloves, and nowhere near as slimy as the Omertas."

Christine filed the information away for later, walking into the casino with Six. They checked their weapons with the men at the door, then Six led her into the casino proper. He pointed out the restrooms, elevators, and dining room, finally leading her up the stairs toward the Aces theater.

"C'mon in here, we'll see what Tommy has to say." Six shot her a hopeful grin, waving to the woman at the cashier's desk as they walked toward the theater.

The courier opened the door for Christine, ushering her into the dimly lit theater. It was large and slightly smoky, with background chatter from the patrons of the casino filling the air. Along the back wall was an impressive stage, and a cowboy with a guitar was warming up under the spotlight.

"Hey, Tommy!" Six said, distracting Christine from her survey of the room. The courier started forward to meet a dark-skinned man with an eye patch, who was walking toward them with a wide grin. "Long time no see! How's business?"

"Doin' real good, man!" The showman took a drag of the cigarette between his fingers and gestured toward the mostly-full theater. "Everyone's lovin' the talent you brought in."

Six grinned. "Glad to hear it. Speaking of which, I have a friend I'd like you to meet."

Tommy's gaze shifted to Christine and he raised an eyebrow.

"This is Christine," Six said, glancing between them. "She's a new friend of mine, but she's got a killer voice."

"Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you," Tommy said amiably, shaking Christine's hand and studying her for a moment. "Let me guess, soprano?"

Christine shook her head. "Used to be. Not anymore."

Tommy shrugged. "Worth a guess. Ready to show me what you got, baby doll?"

She knew had little choice in the matter, so Christine shrugged and let Tommy lead her off into the area behind the stage. The courier called out a wish for good luck and the door closed between them.

Christine followed the showman to a private room, cringing inwardly when he closed the door. Her chest already felt constricted and she was itching to get out of the room. "Can we have that open? I... don't like closed spaces." Memories of the suffocating Auto-Doc flashed in front of her and Christine shuddered.

Tommy gave her a quizzical look but opened the door again. "That better?"

The scarred woman nodded, the tension in her chest easing.

"Okay, you got something in mind, or want me to pick something?"

Christine shrugged, then thought better of it. "I know one." The song she'd sung for the courier was the only one she really knew; it had been years since she'd had time to listen to the radio and learn newer music.

Tommy nodded and told her to start when she was ready. Christine paused and took a deep breath, then opened her mouth and started singing again. She went as far as she could remember, then went quiet and gave Tommy a hesitant smile.

"Ring a ding, baby," Tommy said with a wide grin. "If you want a job, you've got one here. That was some amazing singin'." He started talking about the show business and how she surpassed everyone else he'd ever heard, still smiling at her.

It struck Christine that he seemed to not have noticed her scars, and that he was treating her as though she looked like anyone else. "You're not scared of the way I look," Christine observed when he stopped to take a breath.

Tommy shook his head slowly, his face growing sad. "We all got our scars," he admitted, gesturing to his eye patch. "Taught me a long time ago that looks ain't everything; what's inside ya is what counts." A small smile grew on his face. "And you, my dear, have one hell of a voice."

Christine felt her ears grow warm and dropped her gaze to the carpet. "Thanks."

Tommy chuckled. "So, how 'bout it? You want a place here at the Aces? Ol' Uncle Tommy'll take care of you. I'll getcha a room here in the Tops, make sure you're paid and fed, and anything else you want."

She had no other options; the Brotherhood had exiled her, and she wasn't about to go back to the Circle and get sent on another mad chase. Besides, singing wasn't so hard, not with Vera's voice, and she could save up some caps until she figured out what she wanted to do. "That sounds like a plan. Thanks."

Tommy whooped and slung his arm around her shoulders. "Glad to hear it, baby doll! Now, you need a name!"

Christine raised an eyebrow, but Tommy interrupted before she could say anything.

"A stage name, somethin' that'll drive your fans wild, and trust me, there will be fans." He stroked his mustache and thought for a few minutes, then eyed the scarred woman. "I take it you been on some rough roads."

Christine nodded once and shrugged. "You might say that."

"Miss Fortune?" the showman offered after a few moments.

Christine repeated the words under her breath, testing the way they felt rolling off her tongue. The irony of them wasn't lost on her and a wry smile started at the corner of her mouth. "Sounds perfect to me."

Tommy grinned and shook her hand excitedly. "Then welcome to the Aces, Miss Fortune. We're gonna make you a star."