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TWENTY-EIGHT
Boulder City
July 5th
Evening
She didn't look back at Jessup's body, lying in the courtyard of the hacienda, probably horribly hacked apart by the bullets that had been fired at him, and she guessed Melissa didn't either. Neither Ringo nor Melissa spoke, and En figured that was best. Sunny briefly asked, "You two alright?" and got two short confirmations, but apart from that, nothing was said until they got back to the monument.
Leza Watkins stood waiting, her hands behind her back and a smile on her face. "Hey guys. Good to see you're alright?"
"Yeah, we're fine," Melissa answered. She sounded surprisingly level-headed. If En had figured it correctly, this Jessup guy had been a kind of friend-with-benefits, someone she'd known for a long time already, so it must have been harrowing for her to leave him to be shredded by gunfire. "Looks like you've been busy too?"
With a sheepish grin, Watkins merely said, "A girl's got, you know, her needs?"
"I know. So what about the treason problem?"
"Bah, it's not treason if no one sees?"
"So," Sunny asked, eager to get what she suspected was a rather uncomfortable subject behind them. "Where we going next, sweetie?"
"Uh… well, Vegas, actually."
"What, Vegas, as in, the city itself?" Ringo asked.
"M-hm."
Watkins let out a psyched, "Whoooo!", and surprisingly, Melissa said to En, sounding cheerful as well, "But you've got to promise me we're takin' a night on the town, jillaroo!"
"Uh, yeah, sure," En said, taken a bit by surprise. "Didn't think you'd be in the mood for that," she permitted herself to add.
Melissa shrugged. "Jessup went the way he wanted to. I did my best to convince him, but in the end, a man's got to decide his own fate, and I respect that. Cryin' over his decision wouldn't be very respectful, yeah?"
"For once," Ringo said, "I'm in agreement with Melissa. A man's life is his own and it's his decision how he chooses to end it."
All En could say was, "Fair enough. But yeah, I suppose I'd like to take a nightly tour of Las Vegas too." She was kinda curious, to be honest. She'd heard of Vegas, that it was one of the few cities not smashed to rubble by the bombs, a gambling, drinking and, well, whoring paradise that drew travellers from far away, who buzzed around its neon like moths. But stories were often exaggerated, and she'd be able to see how wonderful it all was (or wasn't) for herself now. The letter to her folks had been posted, so no reason not to combine the useful and the pleasant by considering the trip to Vegas both a conclusion to her search, and an opportunity for some fun.
"Ooh, nice!" Sunny cheered. "But if we win a lot of money, you are so buying me a gorgeous cocktail dress." En knew it couldn't be one that cut off above the ankles, but it seemed Sunny hadn't thought of that. So much the better.
"And I'm gettin' the bridge of my nose pierced," Melissa added. "Been wantin' to get that done since I was little." Figured she'd spend her winnings on more body mods.
"Let's concentrate on what we need to do there first, shall we?" Ringo said sourly.
"Rin-go," Leza whined. "It's Vegas, come on!"
"Yeah, yeah."
Meyers heard them approach and emerged from behind his hidey-corner. "So, where we goin'?"
With a little squeal, Watkins announced, "Vegas, baby!"
Grinning, Meyers merely said, "Lovely!"
The walk took them past some obliterated clusters of houses, and under what seemed to be an extremely high freeway, held up by supports. The thing was at least twenty metres above ground, probably the only viaduct that still stood this high. When En looked up and saw the form of the viaduct against the setting sun, she couldn't suppress an awed, "Whoa."
"Yeah," Meyers agreed. "Impressive."
The viaduct ended in thin air, probably where the road had fallen away from decay or the blasts from the bombs, but it was still very tempting to imagine it as a sort of rainbow bridge that led up to heaven. Hm, En thought, where had she heard of that before? Oh, right, her parents and their obsession with history and mythology. Some kind of myth had a heaven that was accessible by a rainbow bridge, but guarded by some ever-vigilant, surly badass on a horse. No matter.
At the horizon, Las Vegas itself could be seen, still rather far away, but clearly discernible as a skyline of tall buildings against the purple sky. One building in particular looked very high, at least twenty storeys, topped by a strange saucer-like construction. En didn't know why, but she got the feeling that this building would be important somehow. But maybe that was what you always thought of the highest building in a city.
"If what I've been told is correct," Ringo said out of the blue, "we can't just enter New Vegas, not just like that. We need to go through a place called Freeside first."
"What's Freeside?" Sunny asked.
"Supposed to be the outskirts of New Vegas," Ringo answered, "and quite a contrast with the opulence, or supposed opulence, of Vegas itself." Again En had to grin at Ringo's way of talking. Who the Hell used words as 'opulence' in normal conversation?
"What's an oppalents?" Leza asked, unashamed.
With a roll of his eyes, Ringo said, "Opulence. Visible and flaunted wealth."
"Flaunted," Meyers explained to Watkins before she could ask, "means openly shown to impress people. Like in the sentence, 'Some people flaunt their broad vocabularies'."
"Ooh, ZING!" En exclaimed, hoping for a good comeback from Ringo. If there was anything she loved, it was people trading barbs. The exposition of the wit required, the speed of thinking, that elusive ability to know what joke can be funny and embarrass someone at the same time, while still being harmless enough not to set bad blood, priceless!
"Forgive me," Ringo shot back, keeping a smile on his face. When people did that, combined with a sarcastic apology, it meant a retort was coming. Yes! "I'm only a young fool whose object of his affection is not thirty years younger than he is."
"Oh!" Melissa cheered triumphantly. "The stuffy-man comes back swingin'!"
Meyers had a come-back ready. "I don't think there's a big age difference between me and your mother."
"Oof, low blow!" En commentaried. This was getting good!
"My mother is a very attractive woman for her age," Ringo riposted. "And she'll look better at your age than you did at hers."
"She certainly didn't complain when we brushed our teeth in the morning last week."
"She's seen you both naked though", En joined the fray, thinking this one was too good to pass up, "and knows exactly what you're both compensating for with all this hot air." That prompted an approving shoulder-punch from Melissa.
"Miss En," Ringo exclaimed, sounding hurt. "Such betrayal!"
Meyers shrugged. "Ignore her, Ringo, she probably still thinks children grow from cauliflowers."
"Indeed. Her knowledge of naked men is still limited to the time little Johnny Rottencrotch got his pants pulled down by the bullies in the playground."
Oh ho ho ho! So the guys were going to gang up on her. Fine, she could take them. "The first time you two saw a naked woman was probably when she was saying, 'don't worry, it's not a big deal, we'll just try again in a few minutes'."
Good one, if she said so herself. Melissa, Sunny and Watkins seemed to agree, all three whooping and cheering for the lone member of the Girls Team.
Meyers laughed heartily and conceded. "Look at you girl, givin' it right back!"
Ringo wasn't about to admit defeat just yet, "I probably have more experience unhooking a bra than you do."
Oh, he did not just make a breast size joke! Oh, he was gonna pay for that one! An awed "Ooooh," came from the spectators. That ooooh that said, now it's on.
"That's right, though the guy who runs the clothing store asked to wash his mannequins down after you're done with them." Pow! In your face, smart pants! Meyers had switched sides again, and laughed along with the other girls, putting everyone on Team En. Ringo vs. The World, it's go time! Do your worst, stuffy-man!
"At least what I do doesn't drain any batteries."
Ha, one point for effort, but a predictable, slow and clumsy left hook that earned him only a modest amount of appreciation from the crowd, and left him wide open to a jaw-breaking uppercut. "No, but Sunny probably still goes through a lot of them."
Sunny let out an indignant "Hey!" at that, swatting at En's shoulder. En's counter had knocked his lights out, and Ringo slumped to the mat. En wins, KO, you fight like a girl, hair-cutting guy! Watkins echoed her thoughts when she shouted, "Oh! Fatality!"
Ringo looked at the ground and grinned. "Miss En, I must recognize you as the victor in this particular battle."
En laughed as gleefully as she could. "Go home and be a family man."
Smiling lovingly at Ringo, Sunny put her arm around his waist and walked close to him. En didn't know if the others had noticed, but the little jab-fest had made everyone forget their animosity toward each other. At least for a while. So not only had she provided an incomparable display of verbal curb-stomping, she'd also brought everyone just a little bit closer together while she did it. Damn, she deserved an imaginary medal for that. Ah, to be so underappreciated…
"Hey, um, you think there's a place we could unload some of our loot?" Sunny asked, craning her neck to look back at En, who only answered with a shrug. "I dunno. I've never been this far out, how am I supposed to know?"
"Tch," Sunny blew. "You're a lousy tour guide."
"I'm bad at memorizing historical tidbits but I'm funny."
Ignoring the exchange, Ringo said, "Crimson Caravan's got its base near here. If memory serves, they sometimes deal with a group called the Gun Runners, and I think they're based near here." He thought for a moment. "Close to the entrance to Freeside, I think."
"Heard of them. They'll probably buy our extra hardware," Melissa said. "So I can finally get rid of all the damn weight in this pack."
Shit, yeah. Even though she was beaten and burned to a wreck, Melissa still hauled the extra weapons and stuff around they'd wanted to pawn off.
"Well, if we hurry," En said, "we might get there in time to spend a night in a hotel or something. I mean… Vegas is bound to have hotels, right?" Her head was aching more than usual, and she was looking forward to dropping on a bed and closing her eyes.
"I'd say that's pretty likely," Ringo said. "Gate to Freeside is in the East wall, by the way, so we have to follow the road going East of the city."
"What, we can't just walk on in?" En said, blinking.
"No. City's completely walled, so you need to use one of the few gates into it. No problem for Freeside, but I've heard you need a pass to get into Vegas itself."
Aw, crap, another hurdle. "What kind of pass?" En asked, dreading the answer. In the distance, the mostly featureless concrete walls surrounding New Vegas came closer. Featureless except for the posters and graffiti, of course. Set against the wall was what looked like a wire fenced enclosure with a few buildings behind it. And it looked like the towers in the corners of the fence were manned with armed guards. Lights had gone on inside the building and on the towers, and it seemed two of the towers had beamers to cut through the rapidly darkening twilight.
"I'm not sure," Ringo answered her question about the pass. "We'll find out when we reach the city, I suppose."
"Armed guards, wire fence," Melissa said, referring to the enclosure against the wall. "Wouldn't be surprised if that's the Gun Runners' place."
Sunny squinted at the fenced buildings and muttered, "Oh yeah… there."
They strolled up to the enclosure and saw that one of the buildings was outside of the fence, a small wooden booth manned by a kind of robot. Against its wall stood a workbench, where a man was tinkering with an old rifle. He stopped tapping the thing with his hammer and looked up at the new arrivals. "Hey. You customers?" The guards on the tower were watching them closely.
"Uh… yeah, I guess," En said. "This is the Gun Runners, right?"
"Damn straight." He flapped his hand at the booth. "Buyin' and sellin's over at the bot there. Need something repaired, give me a holler. Name's Isaac."
"That's alright," En said, not even realizing she was smirking. "I can repair just about anything myself."
The man at the workbench gave a dismissive chuckle. "Well, do your buyin' and sellin' at the vendortron there, kid." Then he shamelessly winked at Watkins. "You need anythin' repaired, beautiful?"
Watkins replied with a sultry, "Maybe. Those muscles of yours sure look like they can do a lot of heavy duty work."
Sunny spoke in everyone else's name as she said, "Anyone got a bucket I can throw up in?"
Regardless, Watkins innocently strolled over to the gun-repairing guy, prompting an irritated Meyers to mutter, "With everybody but me."
The 'bot' as the Isaac guy had described it was of the Protectron model, a stupid-looking egg-shaped body with short, stupid looking little arms and set on short, stupid-looking little legs. With a metallic, computerized, stupid-sounding voice, the thing said, "Welcome sir or madam. Do you wish to purchase something?"
"No. I wanna sell stuff."
"Very well, please present the items you wish to sell."
Letting out a grunting sigh, En reached into Melissa's pack and placed the weapons on the table. She wanted to use some of them for spare parts initially, but caps were more needed now, so too bad. It was a shame to have to pawn those spare-part treasures off, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
"Proposed turn-out in caps, three hundred forty eight."
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
The counter slid into the booth, taking the old guns with it, and came back out with the caps neatly stacked into piles of ten. "Thank you for your business."
Watkins took a break from flirting with the repairman to ask, "Hey robot dude, um, how'd you even get into that booth?"
Oh yeah, En noticed it too. There was no door or other means of entry to the booth, just walls and one bulletproof glass window to interact through.
"This booth was specially constructed around me to deter attempts at thievery or robbery," the stupid bot answered.
"Everyone good on ammo?" En asked the others, turning around. Turned out there were a few ammo purchases necessary, which drained a quarter of the caps the weapons had brought in. At the end of the transaction, the bot said, still sounding metallic and emotionless, "Thank you for your business."
"Yeah, whatever. Where's the Freeside gate?"
"Only half a kilometre north of here, sir or madam."
"Uh huh." With that, she turned away.
Sunny looked at En puzzled. "What's that beer can ever done to you?"
With a shrug, En said, "Nothing. I just don't like robots."
"Hm, fair enough."
"Leza. We're going."
Watkins was just giggling girlishly at a joke the repair guy had made, openly flirting, her body language clearly showing that she loved the attention as she leaned on the counter in a graceful and maximally feminine pose. En was determined to cut it off this time, before hands went down pants. "Come on, Leza."
Watkins turned around, "Alright." Giving the gunsmith a last teasing smile and getting a barely-hiding-the-disappointment one in return, she joined the others as they walked to the Freeside gate.
"Well, here we are. Last stop for you, sweetie," Sunny said as they stood in front of a red-wooden double gate with the word FREESIDE and a downwards arrow graffiti'd above it. There was a hint of sadness in her voice, En hoped that was because she wanted the trip together to last a little longer still. But hey, she and Ringo could always come back to New Arroyo with her, though En didn't plan on telling them that until she was sure they both wanted to. So she just stuck to, "We'll see right? Might still be a long way to go." In truth, she hoped so herself too, because as much as she loved home, once this trip stopped, it was gone for good. So better have fun while it lasted.
Ringo, as always, was far more detached about the whole thing, or at least he acted that way. He set his hands against the double doors and said, "Shall we?"
Watkins responded in everyone's name by cheering, "Vegas, yay!"
The sight they beheld in the darkness of the night was anything but yay. Freeside looked like a dilapidated ruin, not smashed by the bombs like so many other cities, but simply fallen apart from lack of maintenance. Some of the buildings had simply collapsed or fallen over, others still stood up, but seemed to be doing so with their last ounce of strength. Posters and graffiti were all over the walls that still stood, and the cracked and potholed streets were littered with trash, litter and even a dead animal or two. Reliants sat slumped against the walls, some with one arm bare and a loose tourniquet around it, others surrounded by empty bottles, and quite a lot with both. In the middle of the road lay a man in dirty torn clothing, face down and probably dead. So much for bright neon and glittering diamonds.
"Ugh," Watkins remarked, disappointed. "This isn't what I expected?"
"Like I said," Ringo said impatiently, "this is Freeside. Supposedly the place where people stop by on the way to Vegas, but from the looks of it…" he trailed off.
Melissa finished his sentence for him. "It's where mongrels end up when they've blown all their money at the tables."
"Sounds about right," Meyers added.
Cheyenne was agitated, panting loudly and tugging at her leash. "Might not be all that safe here at night," Sunny told the others. "We best find a place to stay as soon as possible."
"Uh yeah," Leza said, looking around edgily. "Gorgeous girl like me, you know? Valued prey for people like these?"
"You saying we're not gorgeous?" En joked.
"Not like me you're not."
En couldn't tell if she was joking or serious. Probably a bit of both.
Squinting, Sunny pointed out, "What's that neon sign say?"
On one of the corners, a large vertical neon sign said, in rather enormous letters, "ATOMIC WRANGLER". Damn, Sunny sure was blind, En thought to herself with a smile.
"Atomic Wrangler," Meyers read out loud. "Sounds like a bar or somethin', no?"
"M-hm," Melissa agreed. "Most bars have rooms."
"Awwww," Leza whined. "I wanna go to Vegas now? Night's still young!"
"Night will be young tomorrow too," Ringo flatly said. "Let's go take a look at that wrangler place."
"Yeah," Sunny said with a nod. "Could do with a bed, my legs are really aching."
"I can imagine they are," Melissa said in a completely serious and empathic tone. No sarcasm, no snide remarks, just a bit of honest-to-God support. It was a relief to hear. Sunny herself even looked a bit surprised by Melissa's completely barbless reply.
"Ugh," Watkins said. "If it's even got beds, they're probably, like, full of lice and stuff?"
"I'll kill the lice in my bed," Meyers said to that, "and then you can just – "
"Um, no?" Leza was quick to interrupt him.
"We'll have to pair up though," Ringo said, his mind, as always on the practical things. "So you four will have to – "
"I'm sleeping with Ennie," Watkins immediately blurted out. "No discussion."
"You sure?" En couldn't resist. Her headache was killing her, but she ignored it. "I might be a massive pervert? Might try to ravage you as you sleep, and all?"
"Um, don't you start?"
"She is a total sex fiend," Melissa joined in, giving En a barely perceptible conspiratorial grin. "She'll show you all corners of the room. But don't worry, you can bunk with me."
Watkins didn't seem to notice that she was getting her leg pulled. "Okay, um, Melissa, you're, like, cool and all, but no. I'm not… like that."
"Why?" Sunny asked, adding to the band of Watkins-chain-yankers. "You a bit homophobic, Initiate Watkins?"
"Hey, whoa, no," Watkins protested, bringing her hands up. "I didn't say that? I'm just… um, not comfortable with the idea?"
Melissa crossed her arms, and glared. "So you are homophobic."
"No! I'm just… people can, like, do whatever they want, but me, you know, personally, I just don't want, like," she grimaced at the thought, "another woman's head between my legs or something. Ew, no." Hastily, she added, "Like, personal choice, right?" She seemed to realize what a sticky situation she'd brought herself in. Nobody really gave a shit about homophobia or racism, at least not like they supposedly did before the war, but there was the matter of one's immediate company taking offence.
Melissa only said, "I don't like homophobes. I've kicked the shit out of people for less."
"No! Come on!" Watkins began to look more than a bit intimidated, all eyes on her.
"I'm bi, as you know. You hate people like me, right?" Melissa punched her palm. "People who hate me, I tend to hate them right back." The entire group had fallen completely silent.
"Melissa, come on, I just," Watkins stammered, her one uncovered eye looking almost panicked, "I'm not, I mean, it's just that, I think, I'm, like personally, not against, um,…" She ended her awkward defence with an almost teary plea of, "Melissa, come on!"
A brief, uncomfortable silence fell. Leza's eye looking scared at Melissa, who loomed over her like a muscled, tattooed, fuming goliath. "Melissa? Come on!"
Then Melissa stopped holding her grin back.
Watkins visibly relaxed, letting out an enormous volume of pent-up air. Bringing a hand up to her forehead, she sighed in relief. "You guys."
Laughing, Sunny said, "Oh blondie, you should've seen your face!"
Imitating Watkins' nasal voice and standing like a scared child, En whined, "Oh no Melissa please no don't hit me pleasepleasepleaseplease no Melissa come on!"
"Yeah, yeah, alright, alright," Watkins muttered, visibly relieved.
"Are the children done being funny with each other?" Ringo asked sourly.
"Yeah, Ringo,"' Melissa said. "You're a good sport, blondie. Don't worry, I'll bunk with the sheriff."
Meyers chuckled at that. "I wouldn't dare try anythin' with you, that's for sure."
"Right," Ringo said. "Settled then." With that, he pushed the door to the Atomic Wrangler open.
Inside the bar was a pleasant friendliness that reminded En of the bar in Goodsprings, when it was just getting fun and Sunny had told her to go home. And of Old Cassidy's in New Arroyo, though there were rarely that many people there. Smoke hung low above the tables where travellers and patrons sat and talked. At the bar sat more customers, some respectable-looking, others with an appearance that was far less confidence-inducing. A man and a woman tended bar, brother and sister from the looks of them, struggling to keep up with the orders. Oldies came from speakers suspended in the corners, and the low buzz of the talking made the place feel alive. At the far end were two tables, one where a card game was being played, and one that had a sort of spinning wheel on it. At both tables, there were people playing and people watching, and especially from the spinning table (En seemed to remember the game was called 'roulette'), loud cries of triumph and of dismay rose up. She'd have to try that sometime.
"Hello there," the bartending sister called out while she poured two different shots at the same time. "Welcome to the Wrangler! Sit your asses down or drink on your feet, it's all the same." When she saw Cheyenne, she added, "Dogs are welcome, but keep 'em leashed."
"Free table right there," Sunny half-shouted through the noise in the bar. A group of seven people had just gotten up and grabbed their coats, and from what En knew of bars, a table was never free for more than ten seconds.
"I could do with a sit-down," Meyers said, shouldering through the bar customers and flinging himself down on one of the chairs. Watkins followed right after, and soon everyone sat around the table, the disgruntled glares of those too late to claim the table notwithstanding.
"Think you'll keep it civilized today, blondie?" Melissa asked Watkins.
"I don't know," Watkins said, "would you mind if I brought a guy up to our room, Ennie?"
"I most certainly would."
"Then yes, it'll be civilized."
"I'll believe that when the day is over," Sunny said, relaxing in her chair and closing her eyes. Her legs must have hurt from all the walking. Cheyenne curled up under her chair.
Looking back at the bar, Ringo muttered, "They probably won't take orders at the table." With an irritated sigh, he said, "and since none of you seem to have any intention of standing up, I'll go order. What's everyone having?"
Fishing the pack of cigarettes out of Ringo's pocket and lighting one, Melissa said, "What's on tap."
Meyers unabashedly snatched a cigarette from Ringo's pack too. "Scotch please."
"Beer for me too, please, baby. Get a bowl of water for Cheyenne too?"
Watkins raised her hand. "Me too. Beer, not water."
En ordered a coke, as always, and when Ringo got up to get the drinks, she called after him, "And actual coke, none of that sarsaparilla horse pee!" At that, a few old geezers, nudged their heads at her and laughed dismissively. Watkins jumped up from her seat and went after Ringo. "I'll help you carry."
Right, 'help him carry'. Her eyes had been on the bartender guy several times already, so they probably wouldn't be seeing her again in the next hour. With all the flirting she did with people outside of her group, a person would almost get the impression that she didn't find them worthy of her company.
And indeed, as Ringo paid for the drinks, Leza had already struck up a conversation with the bartender, leaning on the counter so she could show off her assets. Predictably, the bartender more than willingly let himself get distracted from his work.
Meyers laughed hoarsely and pointed his chin at the other end of the bar. "Will you look at that."
Sitting at the very end of the bar was a sight that En had to blink at a few times to make sure it was real. It was a woman in fetish gear and a cowboy hat. But not just any woman, no, this one looked like a flayed and burned monstrosity, her leather g-string wedged in between her ruined buttocks, and her ribcage wrapped in some kind of leather corset with studs on it. A ghoul S&M cowgirl. The things you saw in the city.
"Think she gets a lot of customers?"' Sunny asked.
"I… don't even want to think about that," En could only say.
Melissa, on the other hand, seemed intrigued. "I've never done it with a ghoul before."
"No one has, Melissa," Sunny said, making a face. "And there's all sorts of reasons for that."
Melissa blew out smoke from her cigarette and shrugged. "Appearances shouldn't stop people from bein' interested in someone."
With a chuckle, Meyers said, "Tell that to Watkins, I wouldn't mind some of her interest."
"I said appearances," Melissa retorted. "Likelihood to get a heart attack is a legitimate reason."
"My heart and my other pieces of anatomy work fine, you shrew," Meyers said with a grin. "You can always watch when I prove it with Watkins' assistance."
"No thanks, you'd just ruin the view anyway."
They were dirty old man remarks in a way, but it didn't feel like he meant any harm with it. Still, his chances of ever scoring with Watkins were smaller than a midget bacteria.
Ringo set the drinks down with an annoyed "By 'help me carry' she apparently meant 'go flirt and let me carry everything alone'."
"Aww, don't be surly, baby," Sunny cheered him up. "It's nice that we're able to be together like this, right? En's little search is almost over, we might not get another chance."
"That is true," Ringo said, holding his beer bottle out to En. "Miss En, to good comradeship and pleasant travels!"
Meyers also raised his scotch glass. "I'll drink to that."
En didn't really get the whole custom of clinking glasses together, but what the Hell. "Cheers guys. Thanks for coming with me. I couldn't have done it without you." She could have, probably, but that's always what people wanted to hear. "So did you book rooms, Ringo?"
"Certainly did. One for Sunny and me, one for Lusty Leza and you, and one for Melissa and the sheriff."
"Cool, thanks!"
"No dirty business, alright, y'old geezer?" Melissa warned him. "Don't go mistakin' me for blondie in the middle of the night, yeah?"
Grinning sheepishly, Meyers sipped from his scotch and said, "No, I think I'd recognize you from the right hook to the jaw I'd get."
Melissa took a swill from her beer. "Not to mention the fact that your still-workin' anatomy won't be workin' anymore afterwards."
The evening went on, turning into night as more drinks were fetched and stories were told. At one point the entire group lay in stitches over a story Meyers was telling, about some deputy getting his buttocks burned while drunk and then almost drowning when he tried to put himself out. Watkins had come to rejoin them after slaking her flirt-thirst, and she'd started telling about all the pranks she'd pulled in the Brotherhood. Then she'd teamed up with Sunny to get En to tell more about Christopher, her crush back home. After a bit of resistance, she'd indulged them, talking about Cassidy's bar and the embarrassing story of Christopher's mom (the one with the mangled hand) taking her aside and asking her about birth control. This, in return, prompted a story about a condom clogging the toilet from Watkins (of course, who else), leading back to Sunny telling a story about how she'd walked in on her parents having sex. Meyers had hooked in on that, talking about how he'd caught a young couple in the bushes, the guy being the fiancée of the girl's best friend. Melissa had shrugged at that and commented that if you were gonna share, might as well share with a friend. Sunny had protested, saying it was be the worst betrayal if someone stole a friend's lover. That had sparked a long conversation about friendship and what it really was, and had ended with En telling about Allison, and how Allison would never do such a thing. Melissa and Meyers had cynically told her that there was nothing less true than saying someone 'would never', but Sunny, Ringo and En had stuck to their guns and proclaimed their belief in the sanctity of friendship. Leza hadn't gotten involved in the conversation, probably because she'd stolen quite a few guys in her lifetime.
After knocking back the last of his fourth scotch, Meyers had excused himself and gone to bed, prompting a barrage of old-geezer barbs, and Sunny and Ringo had followed not soon after, they in turn being sent off with plenty of crude gonna-have-sex jokes.
The bar had emptied gradually, and now only three of the tables were occupied, and only two people remained at the bar. The music had changed too, going from upbeat fifties ditties to slower, more melancholic songs. En checked her pip-boy when Melissa asked, "So, one more?" It was past three already.
"I could go on all night," Leza answered, though her eyelids were clearly getting heavy.
En doubted for a moment, but then said, "Alright, one more."
Melissa herself was still full of energy, despite her injuries. "Ace! I'll be right back. And no non-alcoholic ponce drinks, yeah?"
"Nah, Melissa," En said regardless, "just a coke's fine."
"Right, beer for jillaroo." Should've known she wouldn't listen. But no harm in it, En supposed. You too, blondie?"
Watkins looked slightly buzzed, but nowhere near last night's grotesque level of intoxication. "Yep, beer."
Melissa clapped Watkins hard on the shoulder. "My kind of girl."
"Not too much, right?"
"Nah, I like my rootin' partners a bit more rugged. You'd probably snap in two from the treatment I'd give you." Then she went to get the drinks.
"This is fun, Ennie," Watkins said, sounding sincere. "I mean, it sucks being booted from the Brotherhood and all, but this, like, makes it far less sucky, you know?"
"Glad to make your life suck less."
Watkins pointed a finger at her. "But hey, when we go for that night in Vegas, we're totally not going to our rooms 'til the sun's up, alright?"
En actually looked forward to a night of partying. It'd be the perfect conclusion to their trip. "Yep, absolutely."
"And we're taking separate rooms, so we can, you know, score you a guy too?"
Ugh, why did everyone always insist that a night of good fun had to end with getting humped by some drunken party animal. "Uh… we'll see. If I get hitched, you can have mine."
"And if that doesn't work, I'm going back home with you and I'll totally teach you everything you need to know to get your claws into that Christopher guy?"
Now if only that could happen. "You'll have your work cut out for you, then. Besides, Allison's tried to hook us up several times and no dice."
"Then I'll get Melissa to beat him up until he comes to his senses."
"Beat who up?" Melissa asked, putting down the drinks.
"That asshole bartender back in her hometown."
"Still goin' on about him, huh?" Melissa grinned. "From what you said about him, he's a lost cause, jillaroo."
"When a guy's hard to get," Watkins imparted, "then you gotta play it hard. So Ennie, we're totally gonna play it hard."
"Let's just drop this, okay?" En said, feeling uncomfortable with the subject. The beer tasted bitter, as she remembered beer to taste, and she didn't enjoy it much.
The conversation shifted again, to more practical matters this time, like their finances (which weren't exactly stellar) and the plans for tomorrow. Leza's flirting had apparently paid off, because the bartender had told her who they needed to see to get inside Vegas 'without all the tedious paperwork'. In other words, illegally. When the beers were finished, they called it a night and headed up to their rooms, Leza falling asleep as soon as she'd changed and hit the rack, and En drifting off not soon after. It promised to be a long and eventful day tomorrow.
