Raul sat atop his shed, sarsaparilla in hand and hammer teetering on one thigh. The boss was still inside, sleeping or something - he hadn't check since he'd left - and he'd taken the liberty of starting the repairs on his shed. His box of tools was hitched into one of the uneven metal shingles so as not to topple off due to the slope the roof gave. He himself was straining just to keep steady above the rickety home. As soon as the sun had rose he'd been out searching the area for that worthless piece of metal that'd fallen off yesterday, shuffling around like some goof.
He grumbled, scratching his chin before taking a hardy swing of the warm beverage. Despite the temperature it tasted mighty delicious. The flavor swirling in his mouth made him smile as he brought the tool box up on his lap, humming as he did.
If he was quick he could get this stuff done before she woke up…
It'd been a few minutes and still she found herself laying down on the cot, staring up at the ceiling. Even if he'd been trying to be quiet up there it didn't work – not that she needed to sleep any more anyways. Her pip-boy read 6:57 am, a good hour at least after the sun came up. With a roll of her hips she was facing the legs of the work bench, staring past the dirty metal floor. The lug nut she'd been tossing around from yesterday was hugging the foot of the work bench as if in spite of her. She scoffed at it and started to get up. The day was already afoot and to hell with lying around a dirty shed anyways, the sooner the ghoul got done with whatever it was he was doing up there, the sooner they could leave.
Perhaps Raul could use some help..
Outside the shed the world was bright and crisp. The dawn was more white light than yellow and it always calmed her; the start of a new day, with plenty of sun shine ahead of her. Though the sun was no joke, shining bright and glaring down at her like a vilified friend - it blinded her a moment.
"Which way is up…", she groused, blinking rapidly and maneuvering around to shield herself from the suns rays.
Just as she expected, Raul was staring down at her from the top of the shed with a friendly look, swinging his hammer in a 'hello goodmorning' type of gesture. She waved back and cracked a smile, fanning the same hand over her eyes to get a better look at him.
"Need some help?", she cocked her head to the side, squinting her eyes, "I'm not too shabby you know.."
"Neither am I boss.", he smirked and started screwing something in place, turning away from her. "I thought I'd have this done before you woke up…", he paused then gancing down at her,"….guess the noise didn't help much huh?"
She grinned a smile, still bearing a hand against the sun and shrugged. "Can't complain really."
She made a move to go back inside, but paused and then moved back around to look up at him. "Sure you don't need some help?"
"Nah thanks boss.."
He saw the top of her rust colored hair disappear into the shed. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't content to know that she was awake, even more so that he had woken her. She'd been in a good mood lately and for some reason he felt keen to putting her back into her regular 'couldn't careless' state of mind. All this smiling and sweetness wasn't something he'd come to get used to with her - not that it wasn't some what enjoyable.
She left him too it, going back inside to gather everything up for the trip to The Strip. Her body sang with anticipation, just thinking about finally getting into the bright lights of New Vegas. She'd followed the trail up until this point and the thought of being so close to the 'bastard' and this final stop wasn't as satisfying as she'd thought – then again, she could have a ways to go for all she knew…..and most likely, that would be the case. Though still, despite getting her revenge, the thought of going back to just working a courier job didn't sound so exciting after all this – it sounded…a little boring, which was silly since the job was not in any way boring.
She scratched at the scar above her eye, tracing the bumps and creases while remaining conflicted. Sometimes the scar itched like a damned scorpion bite...a nasty one too.
Another bang and shake from above her got her moving again. She pushed some hair over the scar and kneeled down to gather up all the scattered items. Food needed to be packed, ammo and water as well as the nick-nacks. She stared at the door a second before pocketing a couple of Raul's magazines. They would do better with her than stuck here in this old shed with no one to read them...
Three more screws later and walla! Raul's home repair exceeds the Mojave's expectations.
He finished off the sarsaparilla and tossed it off the shed with little care. It was done! He knew it was more than a little depressing, at this age, to be so proud of a simple repair like this but he'd been doing little lately and this was at least something. Fixing that smoothskin's gun and patching up her armor wasn't nearly as satisfying as he thought it would be. He missed repairing the simpler things...things that didn't involve life or death hanging in the balance.
He scooted off the side, dangling his legs and grabbing the tool box before hopping off the roof. His knees gave a small pop and he sighed. The stiffness earlier now fell into sweet relief and with a few more cracks here and there he was all set.
Before he could turn around the front door opened, and out came the boss; nearly camouflaged with all the gear stacked up around her. It was comical.
"Think you're the one that needs help now, huh boss?"
Suddenly the prepared little smoothskin looked a little sheepish. "..Perhaps."
They headed south for twenty five miles and cut to the west for the last few hours distance. The journey was boring, long and hot - though about thirty minutes outside Freeside they stumbled upon an oasis, which looked to be at one point a pit-stop. This little area was home to shade, a rusty ammunition box and several items scattered around and imbeded in the sand.
While Raul sat down on the tilted chair, resting his legs, she went to scavenging the various things stuck in the dirt. She heard Raul start prying open the ammunition box as she inhaled the dusty sand below her. It smelt good. On her hands and knees she tossed worthless junk aside and pocketed things that looked like they could fetch some caps.
A accomplished sound behind her told her Raul had gotten the box open and was, she guessed, more than likely popping whatever ammo he'd found inside their packs.
The wind blew finally, creating a cool breeze under the shade of the oasis. Out the corner of her eyes she noticed a flapping shine buried in the sand against an empty sarsaparilla bottle. Back and forth in the wind this, something, tilted forwards and backwards. Upon closer inspection and some dirty digging she un-covered a worn soiled magazine. Grit caked the front and back, making it almost un-readable.
With a quick glance at Raul who was taking the opportunity to fix up her old 10mm pistol she went to work scratching the filth off the mag with her short stubby nails. It was a find, this magazine. Normally she'd have to keep an eye out while riffling through old houses and past inhabited dwellings to find one. She hoped it was a Today's Physician...she'd had a rash on the side of her thigh for a few days now, and it was starting to get...concerning...
But no..it wasn't what she'd hoped.
It was one better!
"Hooo doggie!"
She struck it against her thigh a few times, grinning from ear to ear while what was left of the dirt fell off, revealing a Lad's Life.
"Lookie what I've found here. A gem in ah' junk pile..."
She turned, showing it off to Raul a few feet away. His reaction was nonplused but it didn't deter her in the slightest. A survival mag was just about the bee's knees as far as it went in the Mojave. Most of the things she'd have problems with could be figured out in these crinkled old pages - and the idea of skimming it's section later in Freeside was too good. All she needed to do now was get moving and finish off the next few miles.
She saddled up by the ghoul, dropping down on the floor near one of the packs and stuffed the mag inside. He looked down at her briefly, squinting in the suns rays before he snapped a few parts on her pistol back in place and twirled it around in one hand. She peeked over at him, above her now opened Nuka-Cola. He looked like a regular ol' gunslinger - minus the skin of course.
She reached a hand out and he placed the gun in her hand, mumbling something in that language of his before reclining back in the chair to relish in the rest of their small stop. She checked the chamber then flicked her wrist, the motion slapping it shut. She examined the gun in both hands before latching it to her hip and getting up on her knees; dirty and dusty. She chugged the whole cola in record time, feeling the sugar fizzle down her throat and up her brain. With a small burp she tossed the empty bottle over one shoulder casually.
Past the hard sun, in the distance she could make out the towering casino of the Lucky 38. She kept her smile. The feeling of revenge drawing closer was enough to make the rest of the journey feel almost pleasurable - it would be nice though, when she could toss herself in a relatively clean bed and sleep for more than four hours. The wasteland by now felt like home, but nothing beat a safe place with a soft mattress to collapse on top of.
"You ready boss?"
He was already standing, two packs slung over both shoulders, the strings making a cross. He harbored his regular cut smile, with his banged up hands pushed into the deep pockets of his jumpsuit. She nodded her head, pushing her hair over one shoulder and getting up herself. A sun burn was coming on over her cheeks and she scratched at a patch of dry skin - not the smartest thing to do but it was a habit of hers.
"Ready as every other time."
He smirked in response and made a near-silent sound as she started leading the way. It was down hill from here on out, literally. His joints started to ache just halfway down the slop on a particularly high hill. She hiked down with stride, being so young and limber. He envied her in every sense of the word. Being near an old man even before his ghoulification didn't leave him as spry as some other ghouls, and ghouls themselves were normally not a flexible as smoothskins.
He kept an eye on her, stepping carefully yet quickly behind her. Her hair was bobbing on her shoulders, her pack was bouncing above her behind and her clothes padded around her where they were particularly loose.
She was interesting, to say the least. Her sense of morals were a little askew for his liking but she had her other redeeming qualities. One of them, being the most obvious, was that she wasn't horrible to look at, not extremely easy on the eyes at this point - what with the scar above her eye and all the dirt and blisters on her face, but given a couple days to relax he figured she could stand up to the many glamourous whores on The Strip.
He wasn't a perverted old man, but he couldn't deny either that the girl was fit - possibly more than the whores. Her body seemed the result of her job. Walking to a fro places constantly, it would definitely do a woman proud.
He looked away from her backside, seeing the bottom of the drop off closer than he'd expected. The sun was about a fingers length off the cliffs by now and if they kept up this pace, they'd just make it to Freeside before nightfall. The boss had put ideas of warm beds and running water in his mind for the past few days and he imagined he was almost as excited at her. It'd been quite a while since he'd traveled the wasteland and it was taking its toll in many small, unpleasant ways.
"Want to stop by the Grab n' Gulp for a bite?" She tossed her head back at him, finally hitting leveled ground.
He didn't want to stop, no, but if she wanted to then they would. "Sure boss, whatever you say." He added a bit of light heartedness to his last words and put on a turned smile. She seemed satisfied and started to pick up the pace, making a bee-line for the little eatery.
He slowed down, walking instead of jogging like the smoothskin had picked up before stopping before the food stall. He watched her expression crinkle but smile and he knew her stomach had just growled - she always made that face when he heard it.
The lights flickered on and buzzed when he got up to her. The sun was sinking down past the cliffs, turning everything a shade darker than what was comfortable to see clearly. A hearty smell pushed into his nostrils and he looked down, seeing the boss already guzzling down a mysterious bowl of stew - it did smell good though.
She slurped and smacked her lips, filling her belly full of the hot liquid as he did the same - not as savage-like as her but fast enough to not take too much time. The soup was good too. She definitely knew what to order.
When he was done they both strolled leisurely to the gates of Freeside. She'd ordered herself another drink, something with alcohol in it he guessed, and she was sipping at it as they passed some of the King's men. They leered, eyeing the two before going back to a conversation that had been purposfully hushed now that they were walking by. The smoothskin didn't seem put off by it in the slightest. It seemed a full belly made her ignorant of anything and everything but her main goal - which flashed on her face like one of the many neon signs they were about to surround themselves with.
He grunted, shifting one heavy pack at a different angle, trying to distribute the weight evenly.
Inside Freeside it was a mess. Drunk NCR troopers were stumbling along the street and King members hung around, stewing in their hatred of them. The place smelt of cigarettes and phosphor - an oddly pleasant combination. The noise became one single ruckus of chatter, yelling and buzzing - the change from the near silent wastes was pleasantly shocking and the smoothskin seemed to feel the same way.
She finished the last of her atomic cocktail, smashing it on the ground with a bright smile. The prospect of gambling sounded good, but maybe securing a room for the night would be safer - at least first. Blowing all her caps to then have to sleep on the street wasn't a very appealing notion, not when she had more than enough doe right now to have a room and a splendid time.
"You wanna go trade that stuff in...", she gestured to the packs around his shoulder with a finger, "...while I go get us some rooms?"
"I don't mind sleeping on the floor again boss, you don't need to spring the extra caps you know." He paused and thought a moment, maybe she wanted to get rid of him for the night - it would make sense after all. If he'd had enough caps and had been in her shoes he would have paid extra to get a ghoul like him out the room. Suddently he felt a little sheepish, especially with the tired smile she was giving him.
"No, I don't mind. You need a bed to call your own...at least for the night." She had plans, anyways, ones that she couldn't really do with him snoring on the floor. She'd taken a peak at the Lad's Life from earlier and found out how to make soap. Not detergent, but real soap, and she planned on cooking some up for a long leisurely bath tonight - that is if she didn't get piss drunk like she was tempted to do.
She stopped for a moment on one of the side walks in front of Mick & Ralph's, thinking for a moment. He looked a little off some how but she ignored it as a trick of the light under the bright neon signs.
"We need some more 10mm rounds and chew...uh..", she picked a few caps out of her pocket, tossed them in her palm and handed them to the ghoul before her,"..could you get me some...jet too."
He nodded, keeping a straight face as she froze, giving him a look as if she was expecting him to say something she was ready to refute - he didn't speak. She looked around and then nodded to him. "Meet me in the Wrangler when your done." And then she was gone.
He stood there for a moment, a little put off by her but letting it go as he stepped inside the shop. She was going to do what she wanted, and he had no right to say anything nor care. He did however, hate when she sent him off to do things like this. Mick...or was it Ralph was like most smoothskins, if he was seen in the company of another smoothy they didn't think it odd, but when he was alone they did nothing but stare - which was the most polite thing he'd run across. Getting enough caps for each item was hard work, and he had to say just the right things to get a reaction that wasn't anger or frustration.
By the end of the hour he'd bartered almost eighty percent of the weight in his pack. Over eight hundred caps shook and jingled in his pockets as he made his way across the street to the Atomic Wrangler. He kept his head low, appearing meek as a group of sauced NCR troopers stumbled by, hanging off each other laughing and yelling.
It was best for him to just hunch over and look beaten before he managed to push himself into the casino. It was dark and moldy, but the temperature was comforting. He examined the room, looking around until his eyes landed on the reddish head of the smoothskin. He adjusted the packs over one shoulder and walked over to her, stepping down the cut out of the room to see her hanging against a table. She looked a little drunk...
She looked quit drunk, actually. She was smirking up at him, cheeks red even in the low light and eyes glassy.
"'Bout time. I wa's about to leave the kee with the owner.." She placed a small silver key on the table with a twitchy hand before looking up at him expectantly. She didn't need to say anything, he knew that look. He looked down at his pockets, pulling out a few hefty pouches of caps. She quickly grabbed two and stood, scraping the chair against the floor with a 'creek'.
"I'll be back latr..," she stuffed the pouches in her own pockets and patted him on the shoulder clumsily. He almost pull back from her, a little shocked she'd touched him in public. She just smiled lazily and stared for a few uncomfortable seconds before walking to the door. "Make yurself comf'torble."
He arched a brow, watching her leave. The front of his shoulder tingled vaguely even after he picked up the key and began heading up the flights of stairs to his room - it was right by hers. He let his visage drop, unlocking the door and shoving the it open. The room was nice...
"Tonto hombre, solo un smoothskin..."
He threw the packs on the floor and eased himself on the bed. He sighed, putting a chin in one hand as his elbows rested on his knees. He was too old to get upset out this - too old to even feel the way he did about the boss. He could tell himself to just let go, just..not worry about it, but that didn't get him very far. All he could do was groan and rubb at his roughened face in aggravation. He needed to do something entertaining, something to get his mind off things.
Maybe washing would be a good idea...he never smelt great, but he could at least not smell terrible. With a whiff here and there he figured it would be best for the both of them if he got the stink off him - so with a heave and a crink he began to undress.
She eased forward in her chair, leaning over the table as the King thumbed the divot in his chin thoughtfully. It was hard to not come off as eager, especially around him but she did her damned best. Rex, the dog in question was snoozing under the King's chair, making little robotic clicks every time he kicked his leg in his sleep.
The range of emotions crossing the King's handsome features wasn't very condusive with the response she wanted from him. He didn't look like he was falling for her wit. Maybe she should have gotten spruced up before she came over here...she knew the answer to that, and it was yes. She couldn't exactly charm her way through with him, not with looking like a sun-burnt waste whore now could she?
"I don't know about that little lady, the deal doesn't ring to right with me. You might need to come back tomorrow after I've thought this through, maybe give you a little task to do for me before we talk about this old hound dog."
She nearly winced, she'd done enough for him in the past and it just was never enough. She'd asked him about Rex once before and he'd said something similar like this.
"Nothing I can do right now?" She arched a brow, clasping her arms on the table as she eyed him with a meager amount of hope. Definitely should have bathed...
"A lesser gentleman may have a few ideas but I am not that man. You can come back tomorrow if you'd like. I'll have an answer for you then.." The King smiled charmingly, putting his attention back to the stage as he swirled his drink around. For the moment she just stared at him, annoyed more than she would have been if she'd been sober.
He didn't look like he expected an answer from her so she got up slowly, pushed in her chair and left.
Back at the Atomic Wrangler she downed more alcohol and played more black jack. Each drink, each hand was in its own way the same loss. The cards blended with each other after the last two drinks and before she knew it she was almost crawling up the stairs to her room. Hands and feet on each stair step about half the way up the last flight was thankfully done without anyone seeing her. She made it to her door, wobbling in front of it. The door knob wiggling back and forth, evading the key in her hand. She stabbed it everywhere but the lock and growled loudly - it quickly turned into a shriek as she pounded on the door in a drunk rage.
"Sit fuckin' lock, op'en!" She wined, slumping forward against the door, knowing she'd have to go down stairs...unless she wanted to sleep like this. For a moment that idea almost sounded okay. She shut her eyes, feeling as if she was spinning in circles until all of sudden the support she'd been lying against was lifted. The air replaced the door and before she had time to yelp she was flat on the floor, halfway inside the room with dirty carpet pushed up her nose.
"What the hell boss? Eh...you okay?"
She laughed bitterly into the carpet, though it came out muffled and crunchy. Even as drunk as she was she could see the humor in this situation, especially when two strong hands lifted her up under her arms and hoisted her on a bed that creaked and sank under her weight. She moaned, as the ghoul rolled her over on her back, mumbling something again in that language of his as he started fishing something off the floor.
The ghoul came back, patted her cheek and said something she couldn't decipher. She just groaned and stuffed her face against her shoulder, closing her eyes.
He debated on leaving her and taking her room, but she was very drunk, and he didn't know if leaving her was the best idea. He picked at the fresh set of clothes he'd put on and heaved out a baffled sigh. This wasn't what he'd expected to happen, then again nothing really was ever going as he thought anyways.
"Que hacer..."
He shut the door first - went to the clothes he had soaking in the tub and swished them around in the detergent until staring at himself in the mirror. If he was another kind of man he'd have already been peeling her out of her clothes by now. The thought was disgusting, but not as much as he'd wished.
He braced himself on the sink, watching his distraught faces in the broken glass. Never had he had so much inner turmoil since she came along. Even when he was stuck in that room on Black Mountain, with nothing but the ham radio and his tools was he this bothered.
He turned back to glance into the room, seeing the view of her legs spread on the bed. His face looked a little more weathered than he'd expected when he looked back at himself. This situation wasn't one he appreciated - then again, it was better he was the one who's room she in. Others wouldn't just leave her there in bed like he'd planned on doing.
The tarnished porcelain warmed up in his hands. He looked down into the sink, ignoring the look on his face when certain ideas tugged at his brain. He ticked his head to the side and shook it, grunting while and started to stand up straight.
It was offending and crass, and everything but what it should be when he looked down to see a bulge in the brahmin skin pants he'd put on...
"Dios..no..."
Second chapter, done! I've started a spanish class, so hopefully that will help with later chapters. Hope you liked it, more soon! - and yes, I think I'll make this one into a proper story.
