THE ULTRA LUXE

JULY 26

16:03

The wine bottle clattered to the floor. Brianna jumped back from the jerking corpse and pressed herself tight against the wall. Sweat plastered her forehead. Her breathing was weak and ragged. She screwed her eyes shut and pulled herself together, shaking off the fear in her bones. Her informant was dead and her life was at stake, and Brianna O'Reilly had no intention of becoming the White Glove Society's next victim. She wouldn't let fear shut her down anymore. She would let it wake her up. She reached for the wine bottle and held it by the neck. Slowly, carefully, she moved for the opposite wall by the door. She could almost hear the gunman's heartbeat as he waited for her to make a move. He must be revelling in it, she thought, reaching down and closing her hand around the thing at her feet. The thrill, the anticipation, that's what he wanted, that's why he was waiting.

Brianna stepped in front of the door and hurled Chauncey's shoe at the gunman's face.

She was on him in an instant. The force of the polished-black projectile knocked him back and threw off his aim. The first inaudible gunshot went wide as she swung at him with the bottle, missing his face by centimetres. He backed up. She pursued. The gunman fired again, but their proximity to each other was almost intimate. She easily wrenched his arm away, driving her foot into his crotch and swinging the bottle against his head. He fell back against the wall as silver and crimson splashed the tiles. Her arms were soaked in wine and fragments of the bottleneck were stuck in her skin. One large chunk of glass was lodged right between her thumb and forefinger.

The hitman grabbed her arm and twisted it around, slamming his gun across her face and throwing her back. The tiles rushed up to support her. She scrambled away as a bullet whizzed past her ear. Brianna barrelled into the gunman and threw a punch at his nose. He raised his pistol to fire. She dug her nails into his arm, twisting away his aim before sinking her teeth into his wrist. Skin split and vessels burst and blood oozed down her throat as the gunman's legs buckled beneath her. She forced him back and back and back against the wall, closed her hands around his throat, felt the glass shard piercing through layers of his flesh. Weak with pain and exhaustion, it was all she could do to keep herself upright as she loosened her grip. Blood gurgled from the carving in his neck, spilling down her bare skin in desperate pulses.

Brianna smiled a crimson smile as the body fell to the floor.


Knock-knock-knock.

"Room service!"

There was a loud thump from behind the door, followed by Veronica's voice. "Uh, just a second."

It opened with a click of the lock. Brianna stepped inside, dropping her bathrobe and tracking crimson footsteps across the otherwise spotless white carpet.

"Jesus Christ!" Cass exclaimed, leaping off the bed and hurrying towards her. "What the fuck happened to you?"

"Long story, Cass."

"Jesus Christ," she repeated, looking her friend up and down before meeting her eyes again. "We're in worse shit than we know, aren't we?"

She pulled a face and gestured down at herself, still covered in drying blood and tasting it in her mouth. The hazy steam of the pool room had kept her appearance obscured long enough to find a fluffy white bathrobe on one of the benches and wrap it around herself, but getting up to the suite had been a nightmare. She'd spent over ten minutes skirting past White Gloves, whizzing around corners and taking wrong turns to throw off people she suspected of following her. But regardless of her success, they were running out of time. She'd left two bodies behind in the steam room, that was something that wouldn't go unnoticed for long.

Sunny stepped out of the bathroom and froze.

"Oh my god!" She gasped, rushing to Brianna's side. "Are you hurt? What happened? Whose blood is that?!"

"A hitman's," she said, sitting down on the bed. "I found Mr. Rozero's informant in the steam room, but they were already onto him. Jesus, I-" She gave herself a moment to breathe, but her lungs weren't filling and her head was growing dizzy. "He's dead. I killed him. But he shot the informant first and someone's gonna find those bodies soon. Mortimer, he'll know it was me. He'll know it was me or one of us and he'll come after us." She stared blankly at the blood on her hands, at the glittering glass shards embedded in them. One by one, she began to pull them out. "We have to do something."

"Why?" Came Veronica's voice from the doorway of the bathroom. "Will House kill you we don't, is that it?"

She got to her feet. "Is that all your concerned about?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought we might be able to fend off our own damn cannibals without it being House's orders."

"You know what, Veronica? I know exactly what my problem is with you."

She stepped further into the room. "Enlighten me."

"You think this is all some kind of game. You think this is easy, you think that I'm coping with this, you think you can just move me around like a piece on a board game because that is all this is to you. And I get it. I really do. I understand how easy it is to pretend that this is all just fun and games when you aren't the one in the centre of it all, when you aren't the one making the decisions, when you aren't the one risking your life, running through fire, getting covered in someone else's blood! Listen to me." She closed in on the scribe until she was forced to back up against the bathroom door. "You've been living in a hole in the ground all your life, Veronica, that's what your problem is. Everything you know about the world, that all comes straight from a book. You're a disillusioned idealist who doesn't understand that actions have consequences, so let me give you a little example. Today, I hinted to an influential figure on the New Vegas Strip that there is the slightest chance of me getting rid of Mr. House. As a result, I had to fight off a hitman with nothing but a wine bottle and a pair of shoes, and no, it's not as funny as it sounds. I almost died and we're still not out of danger, that's what consequences are!"

Veronica took a few steps forward, forcing Brianna back. "What do you want from this, Brianna? Why are you helping this guy? Why are you fetching newspapers like some kind of lapdog when you could be changing the world? What the hell is making you so afraid?"

She laughed, a harsh sound that echoed off the walls without humour, without remorse. "You think I'm afraid? Bullshit. You're terrified, Veronica, and I know exactly why. You're scared that Mr. House wants the Brotherhood of Steel gone. Well, you know what? They're dead, Veronica. I know people who have never even heard of them. They're dying. They're dying and you know that there is nothing you can do about it. I've known that for a while now, but I kept quiet because I know what it's like to be afraid. We all know what it's like to be scared for our families, it drives people insane. The uncertainty, the guilt, the helplessness of not being able to save people, I know exactly how that feels. But that doesn't excuse a goddamn thing you do! You act like I'm the one without feelings, you act like I'm the merciless killer who doesn't bat an eye no matter what she's made to do, but I would never tell you to risk your life, to risk your friends' lives, to risk the lives of thousands of people just to make me feel safe! How could you possibly expect that of me? What the hell do you think I am?!"

"A good person! Maybe that's why I expect so much. You're a hero, Brianna, just like Sunny said. You're the type of crazy wastelander who always makes the news, you're the people who charge into raider's dens with a shotgun and a plan, you're the action girl who knows exactly where to go, what to do, you're the woman who walks like she's holding the world in the palm of her hand. That's something I look up to, something I trust."

"Something that's not real."

"I know." She paused for a moment. "I know. You're just as stupid and scared as the rest of us, but it's hard for me to accept that. When I watch you strolling through a bombardment or raising a bomber from the bottom of a lake, it's hard not to build you up into something that's more than a person. A metaphor is a medicine that goes down easy. And I'm sorry. I really am. It's just- it's comforting to believe that I've got a person at my side who believes in everything I do, even if you don't. I just really, really want this, Brianna. We have the robot, we have the Chip, everything I've ever dreamed of is just right there and I can't have it. How do I make that okay? How do I make myself believe that all of this is gonna work out for the best?"

"By having a little faith in me, for a start. Maybe by asking me to tell my boss not to murder your entire family? I can do that, you know, it's not like he can replace me or anything. Look, Veronica, I know how much you want Yes Man to be something more, something real, but you need to stop glorifying this Courier Six you've built up in your head, and you need to realise that I'm doing the best I can with everything I have. I'm sorry, but you can't stick around if you're gonna keep this up."

"Sounds like the ending of most of my relationships," she figured, looking glum for a moment before a sudden thought made her smile. "But taking down a bunch of upper-class cannibals and rescuing a bride from a bloody fate is never a bad way to spice things up, right? I'll get myself together in the meantime, promise. But we're kind of running out of time right now."

"Wow, you sound like you've actually got a plan."

"Well, kind of." She sat herself down on the bed. "I only added to Sunny's idea about using the corpses in the bathtub."

"White Gloves," Cass elaborated before Brianna could ask. "Barged in here with masks and canes like it was herding day at the brahmin ranch. Took ten minutes before Vee got outta the shower and gave us a helping hand. And just for the record: it's nice hearing my own voice when you fuckheads aren't screaming at each other."

"We're fine, though," Sunny assured her. "Just a few cuts and bruises. Cass strangled one of them with a towel, I bashed a woman's head into the sink and Veronica introduced them to her Power Fist, it was fine. And Cheyenne helped too, didn't you, baby?" She gave the dog a loving squeeze. "So three White Glove ladies and one guy means three White Glove dresses and more than enough creepy masks to spare. I was thinking that if three of us got all dressed up and one of us acted as a substitute for the bride, it could work. They'd let us into the kitchens, I mean. Those women were pretty tall, so I guess I've gotta be the substitute. I'll just get depressed trying to fit into those dresses."

"That's the most ridiculous plan I've ever heard," Brianna replied.

"But ragtag bunches of misfits are great at coming up with plans so stupid they just might work," Sunny grinned.


Veronica seemed to be the only one having fun. After single-handedly undressing the female corpses and cleaning up their outfits, she really got to work. She fixed up every dress so that they fit tightly around the bodice without any sagging or discomfort. She fussed over her own hair for a while before pinning up Cass' in an elegant twist and brushing Brianna's until it shone. Sunny, on the other hand, was dressed up in a pair of heels and Brianna's black dress. After she'd had a comb dragged upwards through her hair and a splash of dark make-up applied to her face, Sunny Stripper made for a very convincing prostitute.

By the time they reached the casino, guests were already beginning to clear out. They walked downstairs separately and met up outside the gourmand, finding it mostly empty aside from a few White Gloves dotted about. One more stood behind the counter, storing wine bottles in the fridge. He didn't react to the newcomers until they approached his bar.

"And where do you think you're going?" He asked, eyeing Sunny up and down before continuing in a hushed voice, "Is this the newest addition to tonight's meal?"

"Dessert," Brianna confirmed.

"I can see why. A certain supple quality to the skin, isn't there? Firm breast, ample thighs, yes, that should do nicely. Go on ahead."

He shut the door behind them as they made their way down the corridor, not daring to speak in case another White Glove was lurking around the corner.

As it turned out, there were two of them. The next room was illuminated by two roaring streams of fire as a couple of White Gloves manually roasted giant slabs of brahmin meat. They slipped by unnoticed, descending the staircase to their right before finding themselves in another long corridor. A White Glove was just ahead, his outline clearly visible as he made his way down the hall towards them.

"You!" He called, quickening his pace to meet them. "What are you all doing down here?!"

"P- please," Sunny croaked, squirming against her captors. "Help me, please, you- you have to help me."

Cass tightened the grip on her wrist. "Didn't anyone tell you? Mortimer ordered dessert."

"And you decided to bring her in fully conscious?"

"The cook likes his meat fresh, doesn't he?" Veronica replied.

He didn't look convinced. "I trust nobody saw you."

"Not a soul."

"Hm. Very well. Just remember that all of our necks are at stake if this goes awry. Be on your way, then."

"Oh, could you direct us to the kitchens first?"

"Do you mean to say that you haven't done anything like this before?"

"We're running on a very strict schedule," Brianna pressed. "We don't have time to dawdle."

"Fine. It's the nearest door to your left," he said, continuing on past them without another word.

"Dawdle?" Veronica whispered, moving for the door. "Really?"

"We're all weirdly good liars and none of us are in any position to judge each other," Sunny pointed out.

They all murmured in agreement as they entered the kitchen. A wedding dress lay draped across the counter. There was no chef in sight until they checked the room ahead, a larger kitchen this time with two worktops, two ovens and a pristine white fridge. Small pieces of notebook paper took up most of the space on the wall above the counters. A terminal was wired into the adjacent wall, right next to an open pantry. And there stood the gourmet, maskless and humming softly to himself as he chopped carrots.

Veronica pointedly cleared her throat. The gourmet spun around, slamming his knife down on the counter.

"What do you think you're doing?!" He snapped. "Why are you all standing still?! Do you think the world waits for you while you stand there drooling? Do you think Mortimer will be pleased when his food is two hours late? And why are you dragging that filth into my kitchen?!"

"I think you have us confused with someone else," Veronica guessed, wiping the cook's spit from her face.

"Is that right?" He barked out a laugh. "So despite your dull voice, mutant-like vocabulary and complete lack of human dignity, you're telling me that you're not a-?"

Brianna moved into action, fists clenched.

Veronica screamed.

"There's a rat!" She squealed, jumping back in fright as she pointed frantically at the pantry. "A rat! I just saw it!"

"My ingredients," he whispered, rushing past them and into the pantry, grabbing a knife on his way there. "Where is it?" He cried, just as Veronica strolled towards him and slammed her fist into his temple. She shoved his limp body further into the pantry with her foot before making for the terminal on the wall. After a few cheerful clicks, the door slammed shut.

Sunny folded her arms. "I don't look that bad, right?"

"You look beautiful," Brianna promised. "When all this is over, I'll make sure you know it."

"Sounds perfect."

Cass removed her mask. "Best do this quick."

"Right," Brianna agreed, "the bride."

"Probably in the other pantry," Veronica suggested.

"Guess I'll look for the recipe," Cass offered. "You helping, Vee?"

"Already on it."

Brianna made her way towards the terminal behind her and used it to open the door. It swung open with barely a creak. She couldn't see anyone at first, not until she looked down to find a blonde woman curled up between two high shelves. She was clad in bridal lingerie and nothing but, shivering and sobbing. She brushed her hair back from her face, looked up at Brianna, and shrieked.

"Shit." She hastily removed her mask and let it fall behind her. "Hey, it's fine," she said, crouching down to meet the woman's height. "It's okay."

"G- get away from me," she stammered, eyes wide and fearful. Her make-up was running down her face. "Get away!"

"I'm getting you out of here, understand? I'm trying to help you."

"Help me?" She squeaked. "What- what happened? Who put me here?"

"White Gloves," she explained. "They were gonna eat you."

"Eat me?!" She gave a nervous laugh, forcing her voice to steady. "Y- you must be mistaken. I got separated from my husband on the way to the airport. Could you help me get back to him?" She smiled. "I don't want to miss our flight."

"You're crazy. We have to go, right now."

"There's no need to be rude. I just need you to help me to the plane- I'll find my husband there."

"Listen to me, okay? Your husband is dead."

"What? No, no, he's waiting for me, he-"

"He's dead, you idiot! The White Gloves killed him because he was trying to find you! Can you understand that?! They killed him! He's dead!"

"He isn't!" She wailed. "He's at home! We're married, and- and we have children and-"

"Listen to me!" She grabbed her by the shoulders, staring straight into her terrified eyes. "I'm trying to help you, but you have to listen to me. There are no airports. There are no honeymoons, no beautiful weddings, there are no Frances and Italies. There are monsters out here. People get killed every single day. There are a lot of murderers in this world, and some of them aren't even bad people. In fact, you're lucky if you meet someone who is just a murderer and nothing more. Open your eyes. This is a bad, bad place and people are trying to eat you. The same people who killed your husband."

"S- stop!"

"But we can do something about that. We can end this. We can take down the people who did this to you, avenge your husband if that's what you want."

"I- I want to," she whimpered. "Help me."

Brianna got to her feet and offered the bride a hand. She took it, pulling herself up and wrapping her arms around herself. When they left the pantry, Sunny was there to greet her, wedding dress in hand. "Are you okay?" She asked, her features softened with genuine sadness for the broken woman. "This is the only thing we have for you to wear. Sorry, I never thought."

The bride managed a smile. "Thank you," she said, taking the dress. It took her just a moment to put it on, as if she'd done it a hundred times before.

"What's your name?"

"Claire Roz- Bishop. Claire Bishop. N- nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, though I wish it was in better circumstances. I'm Sunny. This is Brianna, Cass, and Veronica," she said, gesturing to them all in turn.

"And I just found the recipe!" Veronica sang.

"Recipe?" Claire asked.

"Convincing human flesh substitute," Cass called from the worktop. "Who woulda thought?"

"Uh, how about I help you get cleaned up?" Sunny offered, putting an arm around her. "Come on."

"Alright," Veronica said, "who's the best cook?"

Cass gave Brianna a knowing look.

"That would be me."

"Brianna O'Reilly can cook? In a way that doesn't involve giving a slab of meat a stern talking to about the harshness of the world before setting it on fire with a flamethrower?"

"Fuck you," she shot back. "I'm gonna cook the best human flesh you've ever tasted."


"Too much pepper!" Veronica cried, leaning over Brianna's right shoulder as she stood by the oven.

"You're gonna burn it like that," Cass warned, leaning over her left.

"Do you take any medication?" Sunny asked, looking at Claire with motherly concern as the two sat up on the counter.

"Don't forget the carrots," Veronica reminded her.

"And the salt."

"You think it's done?"

"Looks done to me."

"Intercom's over there."

"Should I call the servers?"

"It's almost seven."

"Alright, I'll go."

She headed off to do just that.

"Masks on," Sunny said. Brianna reached for her own and secured it, keeping her eye on the ovens as she did. They'd spent at least an hour cooking the meat, grilling the vegetables, preparing the wine bottles and comforting the traumatized bride, now wearing their leftover mask and dress that Cass had grabbed from upstairs. Now, finally, it was time.

This is gonna be fucking great.


The dining hall was a sea of white faces. Every White Glove in the building had already showed up, patiently awaiting the meal. Their excitement was a living thing, buzzing in the walls and deep in Brianna's heart. She stood by the steps above the dining area with Veronica, Cass and Claire at her side. Sunny was waiting in the room behind them. Brianna watched as the servers floated in, balancing trays on their fingertips and walking with their noses high in the air. The food looked incredible. She felt pride swelling in her chest as sliced meat was delivered on sparkling silver platters, with mountains of roast potatoes and grilled vegetables soon arriving to accompany the centrepiece. The servers were well-practised, setting out the food remarkably fast. They were done within half a minute.

Mortimer stepped in.

He strolled calmly past Brianna and found himself a place to the right side of the dining area, standing at the top of the steps. He looked on with a satisfied smile as his Society helped dug into their meal, chattering amongst themselves and gushing about how wonderful it tasted. That only made his smile even wider. He seemed so absorbed in watching the scene below him that he allowed the four mysterious women to stand neatly side-by-side, watching along with him. Brianna almost laughed out loud when he cleared his throat not halfway through the meal, so eager to begin with his announcement that he wouldn't even wait for them to finish.

"If you'll allow me a few words?" He began, looking down at the masks below him.

"There was a time, not long ago, when we all were bound together, not as members of a society, but as a clan. As a family. And when Mr. House came to us with his proposal, we accepted, knowing that we stood to gain much. Little did we know how much we'd lose in the process. As a society, we've endeavoured to sample the finest food and drink the world has to offer. But we are living a lie.

"There is a meat sweeter than most cornfed livestock. Most of you have tasted it. All of you have coveted it. Among us, it is a crime to discuss a return to the old ways that once unified our people. Tonight, that all changes. Tonight, the taboo ends. Now, you don't know it yet, but you are all now guilty of a great crime, one that ordinarily bears the harshest of punishments. Surely that you are all guilty warrants not only universal amnesty, but also a renewed discussion. For our society to be truly elite, we must dine on the most delicious, the most exclusive food known to us. And so tonight, you are sampling that forbidden meat, the way it was meant to be eaten! You are dining... on human flesh."

"Actually," Brianna declared, "that isn't quite true."

She took off her mask. Cass did the same, then Veronica.

Brianna took Claire's hand and together they marched towards Mortimer where everyone could see them.

"Remember the beautiful couple who got married here last night? Remember how they danced and laughed and vowed to spend the rest of their lives together?" She faced her audience with her head held high. "Remember how you killed the groom, Mortimer?!" She cried, her booming voice echoing throughout the room. "Remember how you kidnapped the bride, stripped her down and tried to kill her too?! Well guess what? You did a shitty job!"

Claire took off her mask and tossed it aside.

"Here she is! Here's the woman you tried to eat, you sick fuck!"

"What-?" He gasped. "Impossible!"

The pair laughed triumphantly, holding their hands and heads high. From the corner of her eye, Brianna spotted Sunny slipping in.

She waited for the cheering. She waited for the chaos. She waited for something, anything. And then there was a voice.

"You sabotaged our plan!" A woman cried, throwing herself up from her chair. "You pathetic little bitch!"

"We are a refined society!"

"You know nothing of our ways!"

"You spoiled everything!"

"Filth! Scum! Outsider!"

People were rising from their seats. They were furious. Furious that they had been caught. Furious that their night had been ruined.

Furious that they had not had the chance to taste human flesh.

And then all hell broke loose.

A lump of mashed potato went flying in Brianna's direction. She dodged it just in time for another to hit her upside the face.

She saw Cass sprinting down the stairs, yelling profanities before she picked up a steak and slapped someone across the head with it.

Sunny's eyes were wide as she ran in to rescue her, until a mutfruit was shoved down her dress.

"Down with the cannibals!" Veronica cried, running to join in.

Brianna looked at Claire.

Claire looked at Brianna.

"Down with the cannibals!" They yelled, racing down to take on the White Glove Society.

Everything was a messy blur from then on. There was punching, and lots of it. She grabbed the nearest thing she could find on the table - a thick, greasy blood sausage - and used it to fight off an angry woman with a wine bottle. A hot plate of stew was thrown over her head. Sunny leapt in front of her to take the blow of a large omelette.

Before long, it wasn't just food being thrown. A flying shoe sent someone straight to the ground just as another was hit across the face with a candlestick. They weren't just attacking Brianna and her companions - they were fighting each other. A stray water jug whizzed past Brianna's ear. A woman dripping with wine had a bowl of roast potatoes in hand and was tossing them like frag grenades.

"Fuck you!" Brianna screamed at no one, saving Cass from oncoming punch by dumping a bowl of devilled eggs over someone's head.

Then she was swimming in a sea of black shoes, floating on the blood-splattered tiles beneath her head.

And then there was nothing.


Silence. Heavy. Ringing. Suffocating.

Fluttering eyelids. Blinded, bleeding. Dying. Wrists bound and burning.

For a moment she was on a hilltop.

And then she opened her eyes and she was sitting at a table.

Her head pounded.

She blinked against the lights overhead.

What? Where?

Her thoughts were slow. She was confused by the long table in front of her, before she realised that it was made from three put together.

That thought confused her even more.

She moved to rub her bleary eyes, but found her wrists bound behind her back. Looking down, she saw that her torso was tied similarly to her chair.

It took her a moment to see faces. Cass on her left side, features twisted into a mask of shock and terror.

Mask. She remembered masks. She remembered everything then. The dinner. The fighting. The chaos.

She saw Veronica on her right, eyes fluttering as she came to her senses.

For a moment she didn't recognise the woman next to Cass. And then she did.

The bride. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

It wasn't those faces that brought her to her senses. It was the absence of one.

Sunny.

Her stomach lurched. She shot upright, frantic now and panicking.

Where was Sunny? Where was Mortimer?

She couldn't breathe.

She heard a low whine from somewhere at her feet.

Cheyenne.

Cheyenne was here. She saw the dog from beneath the table. They'd found Cheyenne.

"What is this?!" She screamed, struggling against her bonds. "What the hell is going on?!"

"Don't be alarmed."

That voice did not come from her. It was cold. Amused. Mortimer's.

"I've decided to forgive you for your unseemly behaviour earlier."

Her wrists were freed of the ropes that bound them.

"What's going on? What is this?"

"A gesture of forgiveness."

Brianna's vision was blurred at the edges, but she knew that the black and white shapes were White Gloves.

Servers.

"I'll admit, you aren't the most charming guest."

They filed in slowly, one by one.

"But nonetheless, I've decided to invite you for dinner."

They set food out in front of her. Silver platters.

"Just so you can truly understand what you were missing out on."

Meat. On the plate in front of her. In front of Cass, Veronica, Claire.

"So you can truly understand..."

Candles.

"... Just what the White Glove Society is trying to achieve."

Wine bottles.

"Only the finest, most cutting-edge foods are allowed in this hotel."

They untied her wrists.

"And this meat, why, it was perfect."

What?

"A certain supple quality to the flesh. Firm breast. Ample thighs."

No.

"Of course, there were the tattoos."

No.

"But they were easy to cut away."

No.

"We kept her awake, of course, to keep her fresh."

No no no no no no no no no no no.

"And the missing hand was no trouble at all."

This isn't happening.

"Her heart was just big enough to make up for it."

She was blinded by the tears falling uselessly down her face.

"I hope you understand this situation, Courier."

He was whispering in her ear.

"Eat. Eat it, and you are free to go. Your friends are free to go. Just eat."

No.

He stepped back.

Smiled.

"Bon appetit."

She made a faint gasping noise from deep inside her throat. Every muscle trembled.

She looked at Cass' face. She hadn't seen it like this before. Blank, frozen, a mask of wordless shock.

Veronica mouthed something to herself, the same thing over and over and over again as the bride sobbed.

She took a slice of meat in her hands.

Her stomach heaved. Bile crept up along her throat. She stopped breathing. Closed her eyes.


"Did you ever think this would happen?"

"Did I ever think I'd wind up lying in bed with the annoying woman from Goodsprings who pressured me into fighting off an armed militia? I gotta admit, it took me a little bit by surprise."

"Can't say I really saw it coming either."

"You trying to say that it wasn't love at first sight?"

"I wouldn't say 'love', exactly. I think 'fear' would be a better word. Fear at first sight."

"... You were afraid of me?"

"Terrified. Intrigued, but terrified. Seeing you lie there on Doc Mitchell's bed was like studying an injured gecko or something. You were all cute and small and in pain, but you probably could've taken my face off if I got too close."

"What changed?"

"Hey, didn't I make a big speech about that earlier? About how I realised that I loved every single crazy thing about you, and how you punched my normal, boring life in the face? Maybe you should start showering me with compliments. Start telling me why you decided to lie in bed with the annoying woman from Goodsprings?"

"Because you're my sunshine."

"Really? Isn't that a little cliché?"

"What do you want me to say? I love your smile, your laugh, and that cute little thing you do with your nose. I like how you stick up for yourself, and for me. And I like how good you are. I love how compassionate and friendly you are, how interesting. There are a million things about you that I still have to figure out. Like how the hell I managed to keep you around."

"Because I'm your sunshine. Sunshine doesn't go away."