Chapter 4:
Games
"Pessimist: One who, when he has the choice of two evils, chooses both."
Hawkins wiped the wet rag vigorously down the cleaver, eyes unfocused as she went about her task. Boone slept silently across the fire, while the little eyebot she'd repaired hovered over them watchfully.
Guilt had been weighing down on her every since that group of legionaries had passed through. She'd let them pass, only a mile away at their closest, leaving her companion to sleep on the hard ground.
He'd shoot her if he ever found out.
She didn't blame him, really. With all the shit he'd gone through, Hawkins was in no position to tell him to stay passive. To be cool, icy. Like she was.
The asshole from Nipton floated through her thoughts and the courier snorted. His dog-head mask had amused her to no end; his voice though, that bothered her. The smooth, almost silky quality of it drew up memories she couldn't quite grasp, and didn't particularly care to.
A side effect of a fucking bullet to the head.
There were pieces missing from before, but for the most part, she remembered everything. The bright lights and haze of Reno, the lazy trek up to New Vegas, and every gun she'd ever bought.
But not that smooth voice, or the man who held it.
Boone steadily ignored the tingling on the back of his neck, casting an eye at their surroundings. She was staring at him.
Again.
It'd started the night before last, when he'd taken first watch. Hawkins had lay there for nearly an hour, sneaking glances at him before dozing off into a fitful sleep.
Something heavy had made it's bed in her eyes, but he couldn't make sense of what it was. He sighed quietly.
It was going to be a long trip up to the The Strip, if she kept staring at him, not talking like some kind of damn ghost. Hawkins hadn't made a smartass comment in nearly an hour.
"I wanna stop by the Gun Runners 'fore we get into Freeside."
Until now.
The sniper's left eye twitched and he glanced at her over his shoulder.
"What you need from them you can easily get from anyone else. They're dangerous." He grunted, kicking away a dead bark scorpion.
Hawkins huffed. "Doubt it. They got this nice shiny one I've been waitin' for. It's aces, Boone. 'Sides, we have damn near four thousand caps. More after we hit Freeside."
She'd put on her chamer's voice. Boone groaned.
They'd cheated nearly all of said caps out of honest people with that voice.
"Fine. You better duck when they start firing." They were going to get shot, no doubt about it.
But she just grinned lazily, mock-saluting him.
"It's too big."
Hawkins ignored him, rooting around determinedly for their caps.
Boone glared at the back of her head. "I said, it's too big. It'll knock you off your feet."
She whipped around, mouth twisted into a sneer. "You ain't even seen me shoot it yet. Hold it until then, alright?" She hissed, glancing at the robot, as if it were judging them.
Her companion crossed his arms and waited.
Finally, after rooting out the amount needed, the courier tugged the giant rifle over the counter, shoving the pile of ammunition in her pack. Slinging both on her back, she set off immediately, not waiting to see if he and the eyebot followed.
"It's called an anti-materiel-"
"I know what it's called." Boone cut her off, cleaning his own rifle reverently.
Hawkins grit her teeth and lit a new cigarette, inhaling the smoke gratefully. Eddy, as the courier had taken to calling him, floated cherrily next to her, keeping a low profile down hear her shoulders. It'd been useful so far in catching wasteland pests before they got too close, and Hawkins had taken a liking to him.
She raised the large weapon to her shoulder and aimed down the sights. The blind deathclaw slunk along, unaware of it's distant watchers.
Peggy Lee crooned softly from the pip-boy radio, Hawkins humming in beat with the quiet song.
Boone looked up and stared at her for a moment, before scrambling up. Kneeled beside her, taking his role as her spotter.
Hawkins twitched her nose and took a deep breath. Held it.
Crack!
The gun kicked violently, but the courier held on determinedly, wincing only slightly. Watching her closely, Boone felt pride well up in his gut. Another emotion curled around his ribcage, but he couldn't tell what it was, too focused on Hawkins gleeful expression.
She leapt to her feet. "Boone! Look, lookit what the damned thing did to that deathclaw!"
The sniper snorted and took the rifle, gazing at the crumpled corpse of the blind deathclaw. One shot, and it was blown away. A small smirk crept on his stoic face, but Hawkins caught it, grinning toothily.
She punched his arm lightly. "Guess the finky Gunrunners weren't sellin' us short after all, eh Boone?"
Receiving only a grunt in reply, Hawkins smirked and leaned back on the rockwall behind her, the silver lighter twirling through her fingers.
All the levity of the day had fled. Hawkins and Boone sat, looking at each other over the fire.
She was tense, that was obvious.
"I've been thinking about it. You didn't wake me up for my watch the other night. Why."
The courier looked down at her nails, chewing her lip anxiously. She'd figured this would come up sooner or later. Fear coiled in her gut, and the lie spilled forth before she could stop it.
"I couldn't sleep. Figured you needed it more than I did anyway." Her voice was steady, surprising her.
The sunglasses stared back at her for a moment, and Hawkins could feel the suspicion rolling off him in waves. He didn't believe her.
"Next time, wake me up. You'll get killed if you don't sleep."
With that, the sniper lay down on his cot and turned his back on her, rifle secure next to him.
ED-E beeped quietly beside her, and Hawkins gaze on her companion's stiff back.
This would not be the last she heard of that night.
A/N: I wanna thank my one and only reviewer. ;-; You made my week.