Good morning, faithful readers! To clarify from the last chapter, I glossed over Dead Sea and made him one of the legionaries who came out from the barracks. Hope that's cool.
Thank you for the support! This is going to end up as a pretty lengthy story, and I'll try to keep up with my frequent updates for as long as possible.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: ONLY THE LONELY
"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"
"Shoot like what? Are you saying I'm good?"
"I'm saying you're not bad. Where'd you learn?"
Ash looked away, pretending to be more interested in the dark landscape – another hour or so and the morning sun would be up. Boone had been a pain in the ass to her in Nelson, and she wanted to be sure he understood that.
"You going to answer me or not?"
Her eyes shot back to him. "Why should I? Every time I ask you anything it's like talking to an angry brick wall."
He sighed. "You're a good shot. You tell me how you learned, you can ask me something."
Her lips curled into an unpleasant smile. "Wow, trading information? You sure must be impressed that someone outside of 1st Recon can pick up a gun without shooting themselves in the foot."
"Well?"
"Okay, okay." She kicked a small rock across the road. They were heading back to Novac again. "I kind of lived on the streets back in California. I had parents, but… I didn't spend a lot of time with them. Fended for myself, most of the time. Learned to survive, observe, watch out for danger. I've met people out here who say they left the coast because things were too serene. The NCR has a decent grip on things there, sure, but there's a lot going on under the surface. It's not all sunshine and bright skies, not for everyone. Anyway, there was that. Then I ran with the Gun Runners for a couple years. Never joined them officially, just hung around a lot. Learned a ton from them. Proper care and maintenance, ammunition types, anything and everything relating to combat. And of course, how to shoot well. When I left, I did some work as a freelance bodyguard, caravan guard, that sort of thing. Nothing too exciting. And then I wound up here."
"That explains a lot."
"Yeah? Good." She lit a cigarette and took a long draw from it. It eased her nerves. She instantly felt less volatile. "My turn?"
He sighed again. "Yeah."
She had considering asking about her death but it didn't feel right, not at all. He could tell her on his own when he was good and ready, without being forced. "How'd you meet your wife?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "I was on leave. Went to New Vegas to relax. She was a waitress. Kept coming by to talk to me even after I stopped ordering drinks." He grew quieter. "Said I looked lost, like I needed someone to talk to."
Ash smiled softly. Listening to him talk like that was nice. Or maybe it was the cigarette. "What was she like?"
"Talked a lot. I liked listening, so we suited each other fine that way. She had an air about her, a way of talking, something about her that I've never seen anyone else have. Like she grew up in a different world. Always loved the city, too. In Novac, she was never…" He trailed off and shook his head.
"Don't go blaming yourself." She touched her hand to his shoulder, but immediately took it away when he looked at her. "And don't say you aren't."
"Yeah. Never been good with guilt."
"Couldn't tell." She tapped the ash from her cigarette. The dinosaur was close. A very good thing. She was exhausted. "You ever talk to a doctor about it?"
"No."
"Couldn't hurt. Or, if you were more open in general. Holding shit in never ends well." Sleepiness always made her more likely to say the first thing on her mind.
"Yeah. I guess." Damn, there he went, getting quiet and closed-up again.
"What I'm saying is, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm around. I'll listen. Okay?"
"Yeah."
She dropped her cigarette and stamped it out on the pavement. "You taking the couch again tonight?"
"Maybe."
Boone knocked on her door softly, unsure if she was already asleep. But she called out that it was open, so he let himself in, a small bag in his arms. Things he had needed to get from his room. He still felt off in there. Wasn't sure if he'd ever get over it. If he could ever sleep in that bed again. Ash wasn't in the room, probably finishing a bath. He set his bag down and sifted through the items: few bottles of whiskey, a wooden box, a fresh set of clothes. He was pulling on the clean shirt when Ash popped out of the bathroom in a dark shirt, once black but now faded gray, and that loose pair of pants.
"Hey. You eaten yet?"
"No."
"You hungry at all?"
"No."
She sighed, combing her fingers through her wet hair. "Yeah, me neither."
He sat on the couch while she flopped onto her bed, reaching an arm across to flick the radio on. Static at first, but after playing with the dial, the smooth voice of a male singer came into the air. She grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, tugging one out.
Before she could light it, he spoke. "Ever smoke cigars?"
She paused. "A couple times. Why?"
He picked up the wooden box and opened it. It smelled musky, wonderful. He took two of the dark cigars from it and handed one to her. "You like them?"
She placed the cigarette aside and took it, mouth crooked in a half-grin. "Oh, yeah."
She sparked the lighter under his cigar first, then lit hers. Smoke filled his mouth. Full-bodied and rich but not harsh, hints of spice. Delicious. Across from him, Ash closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure.
When she opened them again, the blue sparkled. "I thought you didn't smoke."
"Not cigarettes."
"Oh. So what exactly are we celebrating?"
"Hm?"
"From what I know, people usually break out cigars for special occasions. What is it?"
"Don't know. Felt like a cigar."
"Uh huh." She cocked one eyebrow up. "You know you're bad at lying, right?
"You started up a power plant and saved three men. I'd say that's worth something."
"Man, getting a compliment out of you is like trying to make love to a deathclaw."
He blinked. "What?"
She shrugged. "Anyway, give yourself some credit. Don't know if I could've done it without your help."
"You made the choices."
"I did what I thought was right. Gave the electricity to the people who needed it the most… so, everyone. And the hostages, there was no way I'd leave them for mercy killings."
He swallowed hard. "Yeah."
"Does that really happen a lot with the NCR?"
"Not a lot, but it does happen. From day one, we were told it was a very real possibility."
"Did you ever have to do it?"
He didn't respond.
"Sorry. I won't pry." Curiosity was in her eyes, though.
"What's your problem with the NCR, anyway?"
"Problem?" She pursed her lips. "They're greedy and overextended. Their two-headed bear really suits them. Two mouths to feed. They're always hungry for more territory, even if it's not in their best interest."
"'They' meaning who?" His voice sounded cold when it came out.
She frowned. "The government, the people in charge. They're the ones fucking it up. You think Vegas should be under NCR rule, don't you?"
He nodded.
"Well, I don't. But look, I don't have anything against the soldiers. It's further up the chain of command where things start to break down. And I'd never say that the NCR should burn to the ground or something. I hope I didn't come off that way."
He shrugged but eased up. Maybe she was more reasonable than he had thought. They sat for a time, smoking, breathing it all in. He leaned forward when his cigar was a small stub, stamping it out in the ashtray on her nightstand. "Where to next?"
She held onto her cigar for a little longer. "We can sleep here all day, then head out tomorrow morning. Make our way to Boulder City. See where that brings us. Sound good to you?"
He nodded. He didn't exactly mind her way of drifting around – none of his business, after all – but he was beginning to wonder how devoted she was to catching that guy. Benny, wasn't it? Yeah, Benny. When Carla was taken… No, no, there was no comparing this to that. But still, she didn't seem all that bent on getting to her final destination. If she had any history with that guy, maybe that was complicating things. But no, she couldn't have known him before this. She didn't even know his name until Manny told her. Then what had she been stalling for?
She laid her cigar to rest in the ashtray and yawned. Her hair was almost dry now, long black waves over her shoulders. "Don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. Turn the light off when you go to sleep, yeah?" And with that, she laid back and rolled onto her side, and he was alone.