A/n: This chapter is what it looks like, but it'll swing around differently eventually.
"And that's why they wrap the silverware in two sets of napkins," Martina said.
Captain Ronald Curtis leaned back against his desk, his arms crossed. There was something off about Martina today, more so than usual. Her eyes were puffy as if she'd been crying all night.
"Martina," he sighed, "What's going on? You look very tired." She frowned, unable to meet his gaze, and he knew exactly what was going on.
"It was Fox, wasn't it?" the frumentarius asked. He almost punched the wall when she nodded.
Damn his boss and his inability to keep his dick out of every hole that crossed his path.
"You knew that he'd move on eventually," Curtis sighed, "and you said you'd be okay with that."
Martina sighed and ran a shaky hand through her hair.
"I'm not going to betray his trust," she mumbled, "but I know exactly why he can't just settle down."
What? Vulpes would never give his identity away, right?
"So he's living a double life, he's secretly gay or…?" Curtis ended the statement as a question.
She shook her head, her eyes getting teary again.
He frowned. It was usually very easy to get information out of Martina; it was why she was his informant. And even though this was his boss's private life, he had to know for sure that they hadn't been compromised.
"Martina," he sighed, "I can't have you keeping secrets from me. The NCR needs to know anything possibly relevant about the Strip."
She continued to shake her head, denying that it had any meaning to their business. He was losing his patience.
"Now," Curtis hissed.
"He was molested as a child," she cried, "there. You know it now. It was completely irrelevant and you know it now."
The frumentarius pursed his lips in anger. Child molesters? In his Legion? Martina was good at getting secrets out of people, too good. He dismissed her after assuring her that the secret wouldn't go anywhere.
And it wouldn't, on his honor as a man of the Legion.
Picus turned, sat down at his desk, and put his head in his hands, wishing he hadn't pressed Martina for the information. He felt helpless, knowing that the man who did such things could be still alive.
He thought of his boss, the sad-eyed, reedy young man who'd clawed his way up the ranks in a very short amount of time. Since Vulpes became head of the Frumentarii, things became much more organized. Their branch was assembled and organized in an almost machine-like fashion, and the Fox knew everyone's name, all of their past assignments, and it was likely that he knew almost every intimate detail of their lives. Though fair in his dealings, Vulpes was absolutely brutal in the way in which he punished failures and wrongdoings. He was a hand of justice; the Legion needed more men with a stark sense of morality like him.
Why hadn't he exacted revenge? If Picus knew who had done it, he'd kill the son of a bitch himself.
This was troubling and it was frustrating to know that he couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Six and Boone set out in the opposite direction of Boulder City, toward Ranger Station Charlie. She'd told herself that it wasn't very far out of the way and she felt good doing something for Andy. Six shuffled forward in the dust, accidentally stepping on her boot string again. She flailed for a second before a strong set of arms grabbed her.
"You gonna tie your boots anytime," Boone asked, "or are you just going to trip over yourself all day?"
Yeah, she'd better get on that.
Six leaned over and tied a knot in the laces, frustrated that it wouldn't hold for very long. And try as she might, she couldn't quite get the strings to function the way they ought to.
"Don't you know how to tie your shoes?" Boone asked.
She turned and shook her head, becoming ashamed. The sniper backed up and his expression turned sour.
"Look," he said, "there's something off with you. I wouldn't bother asking, but you're more than just a little shifty."
Six hastily told Boone what had happened to her, sparing no detail. She told him about Sunny and the healing powder, Ruby and Johnson from Primm, the man at Nipton, and all the ghouls that went to heaven. His frown got worse with each passing sentence and she wondered if she shouldn't have told him everything. Gently, he steered her toward a rock and made her sit, pulling one of her boots on his knee.
"This is how you tie a shoe," he grunted, "I'm glad you know how to shoot, but the little things like this could get you in trouble."
Six nodded and watched carefully. She followed his motions with the second boot and succeeded. Her hands apparently knew what to do when they were in the right position.
Boone stepped back to cool his thirst with some scotch, and Six watched him intently. She supposed he was handsome, at least to her. His face wasn't much of anything and his physique was that of a barely-together soldier. But the thing that she found attractive was the passion she saw occasionally. It was like a flicker of a small flame, flaring up at times then dimming until it was almost dead. Six wanted to see more of this; she wanted happiness and smiles and that flame from Boone.
"Thanks," she said, "sometimes I have problems with remembering some of the most common things."
She hesitated for a moment. Even though he was nice, there was something very wrong with Boone. She suspected it was more than just his wife being sold.
"You're really nice," she continued, "I'm glad you're here with-"
A sharp bark of laughter cut her off.
"I'm not nice," Boone laughed, "and I'm definitely not a good person."
He offered no further explanation and tipped the bottle of scotch back against his lips. In silence, they continued their trip.
Six stared down the railroad tracks that led to the outpost around the bend. She didn't believe that Boone wasn't a good person, and she didn't buy his attempts at being mean. But if he was determined to keep up those lies, then she'd let him. He'd come around eventually.
The station came into sight and immediately, Six knew something was wrong. It was eerily quiet; there wasn't a ranger in sight. She slowed to a creep, crouching with her pistol at ready. Behind her, Boone readied his rifle, sneaking along at a safe distance. Six paused at the entrance. She kept her side to the scrap metal that fenced the area off. There was nobody there, but she rounded the corner with caution nonetheless.
A sigh passed her lips and Six holstered her weapon.
"It's been picked through," she murmured, pointing at the multiple overturned tables and bullet holes around the area.
"This stinks," Boone whispered, "a whole station of rangers? This smells of Legion."
Six nodded in agreement; this had been a very skilled attack. Wordlessly, she opened the door to the command station, her weapon poised to fire at a second's notice.
That was when the smell hit her.
Six stumbled backward, gagging on the stench of decaying bodies. She'd smelled it before, but not in this capacity and certainly not in the same quantity. Boone stepped back and allowed her to stumble back into the Mojave heat. And while she gulped in as much fresh air as she could, the sniper disappeared inside the building.
In seconds, Boone reemerged, his face set in a tight scowl. He clutched a holotape and wordlessly handed it to her.
Six loaded the tape into her Pip-boy, frowning as it played the Legion's message. They took someone alive? They'd be long gone by now.
"The bodies have mines around them," Boone murmured, "they don't want us to bury the dead, so they do that and force us to leave the bodies rotting. Let's go."
"Mines?" Six asked. She wasn't sure what those were.
Boone swore under his breath at her question and began to leave the compound. She tilted her head to the side, wondering if he'd get the hint that she didn't know what he was talking about.
"Mines are these disks that explode when you touch them," he explained, "they have a red light on them and they will kill you."
Mines. That's what those things were in Primm. She had a word for them now. Learning about the world was strangely comforting; it made her feel as if she was part of it, not just some bystander.
"We should go to Andy and let him know-," Six said.
"No," Boone interjected, "We're going to the Mojave outpost first to let them know. We'll tell Andy later."
He lifted his bottle of scotch to his lips and took a long draught of the liquid before trudging off down the road. Six jogged to catch up, looking at her pip-boy to try to mark the location of the outpost.
"We're going around Nipton," he groused, and Six understood.
She knew that seeing things the Legion had done was tough for Boone, and despite the mean face he put on, she knew it upset him. What had he been like before his life had been ruined? For some reason, Six pictured a starry-eyed young man with dreams of being a hero.
And though it was no business of hers, Boone certainly liked his drink. She wondered what was so special about it. Was it better than water? Could she have some? There was something she was supposed to remember about scotch.
Six kept these questions to herself as she trudged faithfully beside her silent, angry companion. They had a long way to go to get to the Mojave outpost, and it didn't look like Boone wanted to stop anytime soon.
They'd walked for what seemed like ages and it was nearly sunset by the time they reached the Mojave outpost. Six collapsed in the shade of two gigantic statues as a pale woman with a cowboy hat approached the pair.
"Heya, Red," she drawled, looking at Boone, "you look like you've been swimming for all the sweat you've got on ya."
"Charlie's been taken," he murmured, "and Nipton." The sniper stared on with hollow eyes as the woman hissed out a long string of curses.
"Well," she sighed, "thanks for letting me know. The Sergeant is going to shit kittens. Come in and get a drink and rest up."
Boone walked over to Six, offering her his hand. Accepting his help, Six stumbled her way to her feet, nearly running into her companion. She murmured an apology as she tried to catch her breath. The pale woman was upon her in an instant. She yanked the hood off and Six greedily gulped the hot desert air.
"Yeah, you probably need to figure something else out for shade," the woman sighed, "unless it's your plan to have your sniper carrying you the whole way."
She was right. The hood was impractical.
"I'm Six," she smiled, "Who are you?"
"Ghost," the woman replied. She wrapped her arm around the Courier's shoulders and ushered her into the compound.
"What do you do?" Six asked.
"I'm a ranger," the woman answered, "You?"
"I'm a courier," Six chirped, "I was shot in the head."
Boone shook his head and sighed, making Six wonder what she'd done wrong. Together, they walked into the barracks, a blast of cool air relieving the Courier. Ghost ushered Six and Boone over to the bar and ordered drinks for them.
It was then that Six saw a pretty ginger-haired lady at the bar, barely able to sit up. All around her, empty glasses and bottles littered the table; this woman appeared to like brown drinks like Boone did. Maybe they could all share some.
"Hi, I'm Six," she smiled, "What's your name?"
The woman looked up at her and glowered. What came out of her mouth definitely wasn't her name.
After all, 'fuck off', would have been a horrible thing to name a child.