Arria stomped back to her room, muttering about rock headed snipers with no conversational skills. She took one step inside and stopped. Everything felt far too close and stuffy. A few minutes later, she found herself on top of the roof, laying down and watching the stars. She took a gratefully deep breath and snuggled up to her sniper rifle before falling into a troubled and unsatisfying sleep.

Vulpes danced in and out of her dreams. Sometimes he was glaring at her, his countenance scarily angry. Other times, he was smirking and kind. At one point, he sprawled himself out on a bed roll, his hair messy and his arms reaching out to her. Not matter what came up his blue eyes were always on her. Always watching, appraising, and undressing. He enchanted via her dreams. Eventually, he pulled her down, capturing her in his arms, never to let her go.

She jerked awake as the sun rose, aching inside and slightly uncomfortable. She took a second to slow her breathing, hoping to whatever was watching over her that those were just dreams, not memories. She couldn't stand herself if Vulpes had actually touched her like that. But why? What has he ever done to you? Sure, he burned down a whole town, but who's to say they didn't deserve it? She shook those thoughts away, glaring at nothing in particular.

Arria sat up and brought her knees to her chest. She took a deep breath to clear her mind. The sound of a door slamming caused her to whirl around to watch the night sniper step out from the belly of the dinosaur. He stepped out, stretched, and looked around.


What is she doing on the roof? Boon wondered, catching the woman's eye. He nodded for her to follow him as he walked to his room. He had to talk to her, and he didn't want everyone over hearing. As if to prove his point, Jeannie watched their exchange like a hawk. She even quirked an eyebrow at him as the woman scrambled awkwardly into his room.

"Glutton for punishment?" she asked, bringing herself to full height. Boone looked at her. He had thought long and hard all night about this very strange woman. She might be useful. She looked calm and collected, the only thing giving her away were her balled up fists. She was poised and ready to fight if need be. Perfect.

"You're new here," he grunted, not used to talking. Not anymore.

She looked at him as if he were slow. "You're going somewhere with this, right?"

He rolled his eyes. This woman was infuriating. "Yes."

"Okay, then, go on."

"I need someone I can trust. You're new here. That's a start."

Her face flitted with confusion, but she hid it well. Her blue eyes flashed suddenly with understanding. "What do you need?"

No in-depth questions. He liked that. "I want you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try." She was nodding as if she already understood. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew when to come and what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who."

"Any leads?"

"No. Just want the son of a bitch who sold her."

"What do I do I do when I find them?"

"Bring them out in front of the nest here while I'm on duty. I work nights. I'll give you my NCR beret to put on. It'll be our signal, so I know you're standing with them. And I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself." Boone waited for her to make any kind of show that she had heard him. She chewed her lip. Seconds ticked by. Finally she nodded.

"Alright."

He handed her his beret, their hands grazing. She held it gently, running her thumb over the emblem. Her eyes softened when she looked at him again. All he wanted was for her to leave. Now. She seemed to read his thoughts, making her way to the door.

"Oh. And we probably shouldn't talk until this is all over," he said as she opened the door. She looked back, tucked his beret into her back pocket, and smirked at him.

"I'll try to resist." And with that she was gone.


Arria walked all over that stupid little town asking every single person she could find about Carla Boone. She had almost told Boone to shove his mission where it ought to go, but something in the way he craved revenge sparked something in her. She could relate with the all-consuming need of the blood of an enemy. Besides, if she could get someone to talk, she'd get this done by that very night.

If only the silly little people would fucking work with her. But whenever Carla was even mentioned they would shuffle their feet and get awkward. She wanted to scream…or run them through multiple times. Instead, she smiled charismatically and laughed at their stupid jokes and despaired sympathetically with their plights. She wanted to rip her hair out. She wanted to rip their hair out. Finally, she got a lead, and it was just who she was hoping it was.

That night she broke into the lobby of the motel, and searched for any evidence that would prove that Jeannie May Crawford was not as nice as she pretended to be. As soon as Boone had mentioned his mission, she had hoped it was Jeannie May. Her voice irritated her. And something just didn't sit well with her after their meeting.

After searching everything from the filing desk to the back of the toilet, Arria was positively gleeful to find a floor vault. This had to be her jackpot. She picked the lock with flare, and proceeded to quickly rifle through. Her hand clasped a worn and yellowed piece of paper. Guilt just seemed to radiate off of it. As she read through, she suddenly understood why. Carla was pregnant? Boone hadn't mentioned that. All the glee from finally finding the safe quickly deflated. Whatever Boone did to this bitch, Arria was going to enjoy. She scooped the caps from the vault and left.

Five minutes later, she banged on Jeannie's door frantically. She had mussed up her hair and rubbed a bit of dirt on her face to make it seem more urgent.

"Oh my God! Jeannie, please come with me. You have to see this. Please come with me!" she cried hysterically, collapsing into the woman's arms pretending to be weak kneed. Jeannie ran beside her, constantly asking what had gotten her so upset. When they got within sight of Boone's rifle, she turned around calmly, pulling on his beret. Jeannie was looking around trying to find what Arria had been freaking out about.

"What's wrong, dear? I don't see anything! What did you want to show me?"

Arria smirked. "The inside of your head." And with that, Jeannie May Crawford's head exploded, showering Arria with viscera. She serenely wiped a smatter of brain from underneath her eye and walked to the waiting sniper.


She looked a gruesome mess, blood and brain matter splashed against her. However, she seemed almost comfortable, as if that were an everyday occurrence. He shook his head, getting down to the important dealings.

"How did you know?"

She silently pulled out a note and handed it to him. His breath caught in his throat. "It would be like them to keep something like this," he murmured to himself as he crumpled the evil little paper up. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shift uncomfortably. He looked at her. "Thanks. Here, this is all I have. Take it." He threw his bag full of caps at her and turned away. He heard her move closer and felt his beret slip carefully into place. He twisted back to her. She smelled like blood, dust, and cactus flower all rolled into one, and she was assessing him up close.

"What are you going to do now?"

He shrugged and took a step back, mildly uncomfortable with her proximity. "I don't know. Probably wander like you. Kill Legion."

She nodded, her hands fiddling with the bag of caps. Suddenly, she handed them back. "I don't need these. But there is something I do need."


Arria watched as his eyebrows knotted into a scowl. Was she really about to propose this? Might as well try.

"What?"

"I'm on a revenge mission of my own," she started, pulling her hair back so he could see her scar. "If you come with me and help me on mine, I'll help you kill as many Legionaries as I can." Her mind instantly brought Vulpes' familiar face before her eyes. She refused to acknowledge it.

"No." was his monosyllable answer. It was a quick one, too.

"You're a sniper, right?"

It was his turn to consider her intelligence. "You're going somewhere with this, right?" he mocked her. She rolled her eyes and ignored him.

"A sniper by himself won't last too long. I'll be your spotter. We'll kill more this way," she argued.

"You can snipe?"

She pulled out her rifle. The skepticism in his voice pissed her off. "Give me a target. Anything."

Ten minutes later, she had proved her point and was waiting patiently for him to make up his mind. Finally, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, as if he was going to regret what he was about to say. "Fine, but this won't end well."

"Perfect. We'll leave tomorrow." And with that she left, leaving Boone to wonder if he had made the right choice.