Chapter 30: Jet
"Ta da!" Cross laughed as she pulled the blankets off the cart on the casino floor of the Lucky 38.
"Is that...?" Arcade began.
"It can't be." Cass said in disbelief.
"But it does look like…" Veronica added.
A moment later they all shouted in unison. "Gold?!"
"Yup." Cross laughed. "37 gold bars. The treasure of the Sierra Madre."
"What the hell are you going to do with 37 gold bars?!" Cass asked in awe.
"I've been thinking about that." Cross said. "And I think I've deciding what I'm going to do with six of them. First, it's one for each of you."
"What?" They said in unison.
"Do what you want with it, just don't crash the economy." Cross said pensively.
"You can't be serious." Arcade said in disbelief.
"But I am." Cross cocked her head to the side in confusion.
"What the hell am I going to do with that much gold?" Cass said defiantly. "I mean, this place already has all the alcohol I can drink." She waved dismissively at Cross. "Keep yer gold."
"I have to agree with Cass on this one." Arcade laughed. "It's very generous of you but you've already given us so much, so I'm going to have to decline for now."
Cross looked between Arcade and Cass. "If you're sure. What about you Veronica?"
"You gave me a dress, what more could I want?"
"Boo-" Cross cut herself off as she glanced at her partner who was shaking his head slowly. She sighed in defeat.
"You said you had plan for six of the bars?" Arcade prompted.
"Oh, I'm gonna give one to the Followers and to the NCR Army. The Followers can use the funds for more medicine and the NCR can increase their firepower before the battle for the dam."
"That sounds like a good idea." Arcade said with a nod.
The next day, Cross and Boone rode the monorail to Camp McCarren early in the morning. Cross was amazed at the fact that everyone recognized her. Soldiers stopped to salute them as they passed, Rangers smiled and waved and even civilians pointed and stared. Cross was a little overwhelmed by the attention.
"What-"
Boone interrupted her. "Don't tell me you forgot we killed Caesar."
"They know?"
"Everyone knows." Boone said with a smirk. "The Last Desert Ranger is becoming a legend."
Cross groaned loudly. "That names gonna stick, isn't it?"
As they approached Colonel Hsu's office, they saw a newly posted guard at the door. The guard stood up straight as they approached. He saluted before he spoke. "Ma'am! Sir!" He said loudly, trying not to stutter. "I'll see if the colonel is available." The guard knocked on the door then poked his head inside. A moment later he turned back to them. "The colonel will see you." He opened the door, to let them in.
As Cross entered the small office, Colonel Hsu got to his feet and saluted them. Boone, out of habit, saluted back.
"I've read the reports from Forlorn Hope and I still don't believe it." The colonel greeted. "Caesar, dead, from a two person assault. If I had a dozen teams as effective as you two, the Legion would be retreating within a month." Hsu said with a smile. "Anyway, I'm sure you're not here to be praised." He said and invited Cross and Boone to join him. "What can the NCR do to help you in your crusade?"
"Nothing, at the moment." Cross said as she let her pack slip off her shoulder and hit the ground with a heavy, metallic thud. She then sat in the offered chair. "Tell me something, colonel. If the NCR suddenly had access to a massive surplus of funds, could you get the army better equipped before the coming battle?"
"If such a surplus was found, we could definitely use it to purchase guns from the Gun Runners and supplies from Crimson Caravans." Hsu verified.
"If I provide you with said surplus, can you assure it will be used appropriately?" Cross asked as she reached into her pack.
"I will do what I can." Hsu replied suspiciously. Cross hoisted the gold bar out of her pack and let it drop on the colonel's desk with a thud. Hsu stared at the bar with wide eyes. "Is that…?" He began.
"Gold." Cross verified.
"Where did you-"
Cross interrupted. "Does it matter? I found it. Now I'm giving it to you."
"Cross. You do know this bar is worth a fortune, right?" Hsu asked, still in awe.
"I do. But there are things more important than caps. One being beating the Legion. And as much as I wish killing Caesar would be the end, I've heard the rumors about Legate Lanius; things are only going to get worse before they get better." Cross slid the gold bar across the desk toward the colonel.
"Alright. I'll do everything in my power to see that this army is equipped to fight the Legion. You have my word." Hus said firmly, finally reaching out a hand and placing it beside Cross's on the gold bar.
"Excellent." Cross said with a smile as she pulled her hand back.
"You know we can never properly thank you for this."
"Crush the Legion and I'll be happy."
Hsu nodded. "What will you do now?"
"Boone and I are going to try and make contact with the Boomers."
"That's-"
"Suicide." Cross interrupted. "Yes, I've heard. But we're still going to try."
Hsu considered for several seconds. "Lieutenant Coleman." He said pensively.
"What?"
"Go talk to Lieutenant Coleman. He's our resident artillery specialist. If anyone can provide you details about the Boomers' weaponry, it's him."
"Coleman." Cross repeated, committing the name to memory. "Thanks, colonel."
"No, thank you Ranger Cross."
Cross and Boone left the colonel's office and started looking for the lieutenant.
"Any idea where to look?" Cross asked as she scanned the massive expanse of tents outside the terminal building.
"Yeah. Coleman is a little… unhinged." Boone said thoughtfully. "If things haven't changed, I know where he is." Boone led the way down one of the runways. After ten minutes of walking, the pair saw a wooden shack in the distance with a man tending the dry, dusty dirt beside it. Cross saw the man had a garden hoe and was carefully turning the dirt. Around him were rows of turned dirt with little flags planted in the ground at the head of the rows. Around the rows of dirt were various garden gnomes and other garden ornaments.
"That's him." Boone said as they approached.
"Is he… gardening?" Cross asked in confusion.
"Yup. Nothing ever grows, but he never stops trying."
"Huh." Cross said then approached the garden. "Lieutenant-"
"Stop!" Coleman shouted. Cross came to an instant stop, one foot still in the air. "You almost stepped on my petunias!" He huffed.
Cross looked down at the row of dirt she nearly stepped on and carefully stepped back. "Lieutenant Coleman?"
"That's me." Coleman answered as he kept working. "If you're here for the harvest it won't be ready for another month."
"No." Cross said roughly. She was starting to wonder just how unhinged Coleman really was. "Colonel Hsu sent us to-"
"Boone?!" Coleman interrupted when he finally looked up at the pair.
"Cole." Boone replied with an easy smirk.
"Son of a bitch!" Coleman finally dropped the garden hoe and sprinted over to Boone. "Where the hell have you been hiding yourself?!" Coleman laughed and pulled Boone into a brotherly hug. Boone seemed surprised but quickly returned the hug.
"Been working." Boone replied.
"Work, work, work! That's all you think about!" Coleman stomped his foot angrily. "You know there's more to life than work right?"
"I know, Cole." Boone said with a nod.
"Take my garden. She ain't much now but give her time and she'll be the most beautiful thing in Vegas."
"Cole, we need some help with work." Boone said seriously.
"Got more coordinates for me?" Coleman said as he cocked his head to the side.
"No. I need to know what you know about the Boomers."
"The Boomers? That's easy." Coleman turned and headed back to where he dropped the garden hoe. When he began talking again it sounded like he was quoting a textbook. "The Boomers are a xenophobic tribe located in the northeastern Mojave Desert in the ruins of Nellis Airforce Base."
Boone interrupted then. "About their artillery specifically."
"When attempting to make contact with the Boomers, the NCR sent myself and a team of scouts to determine if we had the option of out ranging their artillery. I determined that the Boomers had at least twelve M198 Howitzers."
"Details on the M198 Howitzers?" Boone asked.
Coleman continued in a monotone voice as he worked the soil. "The M198 155 mm howitzer weighs less than 16,000 pounds. It is a towed howitzer that is transported tail first. The gun tube can be rotated over the howitzer's trail legs to reduce its length, though this requires removal of the muzzle brake, or left in the firing position for faster deployment. When firing, the weapon is lowered onto its baseplate rather than being anchored to the ground, allowing for rapid emplacement. The breech is operated manually via a screw type mechanism that rests low in an ergonomic position. The M198 fires separate-loading ammunition and can be loaded with a variety of propellants and projectiles. The effective range is 11.25 miles when firing standard projectiles. The weapon system requires a crew of 9 and is capable of firing at a maximum rate of four rounds per minute, two sustained."
"Stop there." Boone said, not unkindly.
"That all you needed, Boone?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Cole."
"Don't mention it. Back to work then?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. You stay safe, Boone."
"You too, Cole." With that Boone turned and headed back down the runway with Cross in tow.
"He seems…" Cross began, thinking of the right word. "Absent."
"Yeah." Boone replied vaguely.
"I thought the military would discharge someone that far gone." Cross said sadly.
"They can't. Cole isn't just a font of knowledge on anything military, he's also the best gunner the army has. You give him artillery and coordinates and he with hit those coordinates every time without the aid of elevation charts or topographical maps or even a goddamned rangefinder."
"He's that good?" Cross asked skeptically.
"He's the best. They say he's got all that data rattling around in his head and he does all the calculations needed in the blink of an eye."
"That's quite a talent."
After a brief stop at the Lucky 38, Cross and Boone headed to the Old Mormon Fort in Freeside. There, Cross pulled Julie Farkas aside and into one of the small rooms in the fort.
"Okay, okay! Cross, what's so important?" Julie said when Cross let go of her lab coat.
"Remember when you asked me if I could donate some supplies to the Followers?" Cross began.
"Yes. I remember. You said you couldn't."
"Well that was then and this is now. I don't have supplies but I came to donate something similar." Cross reached into her pack and pulled out the gold bar. Julie looked at it in confusion in the dimly lit room. "It's gold." Cross informed.
"Gold?"
"I know it won't be as easy to spend as caps but it should be worth a lot."
"You have a gold bar and you want to… give it to me?" Julie said skeptically.
"Yes. I want the Followers better equipped and better stocked." Cross said happily.
"This is entirely unexpected, but not unwelcome." Julie said happily. "It might take time but we'll try and use it. Thank you, Cross." Julie reached out for the gold bar.
"Be careful, it's heavy." Cross said as she passed of the bar.
"Oof." Julie laughed as she took it. "No kidding! This thing must weigh-"
"27 pounds." Cross provided. "It's written on the side." She pointed out.
Julie smiled at Cross. "Thank you, again. This will save a lot of lives."
Cross and Boone spent the next week scouting around Boomer territory. It took several tries but eventually they got close enough to see the howitzers.
"I count twelve." Cross said from where she lay prone. She then passed the high power binoculars to Boone, who was lying beside her. "If they fire at two rounds a minute like Coleman suspected, that's about a round every two seconds."
"Or barrages of twelve rounds every 30 seconds." Boone countered.
Cross rolled onto her side and started drawing in the sand. "So far they've only opened fire when they've seen us within about ten miles."
"They're probably spotting from somewhere in or near the base." Boone provided as he kept looking through the binoculars.
"Yeah but they don't always see us right away." Cross considered aloud. "And the northwestern approach is particularly rocky up to about six miles away. If Veronica manages to augment those stealthboys, that'll give us 30 minutes to cover as much of the six miles as possible." Cross sighed. "That's still like 3 miles of running totally exposed."
"What about Jet?" Boone prompted, finally lowering the binoculars.
"Jet?!"
"You might be able to sprint six miles, but that's going to be a challenge for me." Boone huffed, hating to admit his weakness. "Jet when the stealthboy wears off will provide a serious boost of adrenaline and some extra speed."
"Yeah but Jet will last a mile at most. You'd need three hits to make it the full distance. And that's too much Jet."
"Maybe for you. I'll manage." Boone said sternly.
Cross looked at Boone skeptically. "Boone, have you ever even taken Jet before?" Cross couldn't believe it when she actually saw her partner squirm in place.
"I'll manage." He finally replied.
Cross snorted in laughter before getting serious again. "Jet is a good idea. But there's no way I'm letting you get high for the first time with the Boomers firing artillery at you. We'll do a trial run at the Lucky 38. If you manage to keep your head while high on Jet, we'll assault the airbase together. If you lose it, I'll go alone and you can cover me. Deal?"
Later that night, Cross and Boone returned to the Lucky 38 after their weeklong mission in the desert. The elevator reached the top and the pair stepped out only to be greeted by Veronica.
"Cross!" She greeted happily. "I did it! I used a fusion battery with the stealthboy! Arcade said it would blow the circuitry of the stealthboy. Admittedly he was right, but with a little ingenuity and elbow grease I managed to tune the current to the proper level and with the help of a sensor module I-"
"Woah woah woah! Easy there, Veronica!" Cross interrupted with a laugh. "Can I get in the door first?"
"Oh right! Sorry." Veronica said sheepishly.
"Let me shake some dust off then I wanna hear everything." Cross said with a smile. "Can you do me a favour while I have a quick shower?"
"Sure. What do you need?"
"I need like… half a dozen doses of jet."
Veronica cocked her head to the side. "Jet? What for?"
Cross smiled maliciously. "Boone and I are gonna have a party."
Veronica's jaw dropped. "Boone is gonna take Jet?! Our Boone? Straight laced, soldier boy?"
Cross felt as Boone slightly deflated beside her at the description. "It's for a good reason."
An hour later, Cross and Boone sat on the couch in the common room. On the table in front of them was half a dozen inhalers of jet. Arcade, Veronica and Cass were also crowded around the table.
"Medically, I would advise against this." Arcade began. "But at least you had the forethought to do a trial run."
Boone picked up one of the inhalers off the table in front of him.
"Nothing but the best." Veronica assured. "Straight from Gamorrah. Best quality money can buy."
That didn't reassure him. Jet was one of the few illegal chems in the NCR. Mostly because it was highly addictive. Some soldiers carried an inhaler with them when they deployed, but it was mainly to be used as a last resort in close quarters with the Legion. Alcohol was the distraction of choice among the people he'd served with. Being legal, it was almost always available and far cheaper than jet. After Carla died, he'd considered all manner of chems to numb the pain but in the end, alcohol was all he could afford. Now, traveling with Cross, caps were rarely an issues. Especially now that they had a stockpile of gold bars.
Boone hesitantly brought the inhaler up to his mouth only to notice Cross do the same. He was about to ask her about it when she spoke.
"It's been a while since I've used the stuff myself. Can't make you prove you can keep your head and not do the same."
Boone nodded and put the inhaler in his mouth. Here goes nothing. He thought as he pushed the plunger and took a deep breathe. He wasn't quite prepared for jolt in his lungs as he breathed in. The jolt felt like little sparks dancing in his chest. As he held the breath the sparks began to dance out from his chest and down his arms and legs. Soon he felt the sparks everywhere. The first spark in his head made him physically flinch. The instant after the spark faded he noticed how keenly aware his senses were. The world around him had seemed to stop. He noticed he sat on the couch, inhaler still in his mouth, jet still in his lungs, but his mind was racing. He was keenly aware of everything around him. His mind took in everything there was to see. He took a moment to look over Veronica and noticed that she wore an apprehensive expression which seemed frozen in time. His eyes wandered to Arcade who was eyeing him critically. Cass was mid laugh and for a moment, he lost himself in trying to remember why she was laughing.
The sparks in his chest slowly started to burn. At first he couldn't figure out why. Another spark in his head caused him to involuntarily exhale. Only then did he realized only a second had passed. It had felt like minutes. He went to move and the sparks in his hand caused him to drop the inhaler. He glanced down and saw it begin to fall toward his lap. He felt the sparks in his other arm intensify before he noticed he was trying to move his arm. I can catch that. He thought to himself. He tried to move his other hand only to notice the sparks seemed to get in the way. After what felt like a long time, he managed to move his hand to his lap and catch the falling inhaler.
A low rumbling caught his attention then. He looked up to see the world had moved but now stood virtually in place again. Veronica's hand were together like she had clapped, Arcade had his mouth open and Cass was sitting back, relaxed in her chair. He hadn't noticed them move. He tried to pay attention as the rumbling continued but he was distracted by the smoothness of the plastic inhaler in his hand. He glanced down and looked at it intently, memorizing the shape and feeling of the innocuous object.
Another rumbling caught his attention and he looked up. He was startled to see Cross kneeling in front of him. She was looking at him intently; her mouth slowly moving. The rumbling was coming from her. She was talking, he finally realized. As much as what she was saying might be important, he was more interested in her face, mainly her eyes. He'd never realized how beautiful they were. He'd always assumed they were grey, but here and now he could see they were a mixture of pale blue and green. The colours only blended when he saw them from further away. He suddenly felt his body moving of its own volition. His shoulders rocked roughly forward and back. He was surprised by the movement and looked toward his shoulder. He noticed that Cross's hands were on his shoulders. She was shaking him while all the while the rumbling of her talking continued. He looked at the gloveless hand on his t- shirt covered shoulder. He noticed that the hand on his shoulder was very feminine; long slender fingers, soft supple skin. His eyes trailed up her hand to her wrist and her scars. Around her wrist was white scar tissue. He'd never noticed how vividly it stood out against the rest of her skin. And on her arm… He couldn't resist an impulse and he brought his hand up to one of the scars on her arm. He traced the long scar up her forearm, feeling the uneven skin as he wondered if this scar was because he couldn't protect her.
A sudden surge of warmth on his cheek drew his attention and he looked up again to see Cross still staring at him, only now her hand was on his cheek. The rumbling was still present in the background; she was still talking. But those eyes, those gorgeous eyes… He stared deeply into those eyes. He only barely noticed the rumbling sounds change and become gentler. Soft and calm. A single sound repeated. It drew his attention but he couldn't make it out. After what felt like hours, he finally understood it. She was saying him name. Calmly calling to him.
"…'me're'..." He tried to reply.
"Slower." She replied. Now that he was focused, he could make out her words.
"…m….ere…" He tried again, his mouth working around seemingly foreign words.
"Again."
"I…m…h…ere."
"Again."
"I'm here."
She smiled at him then and he couldn't resist the urge to smile back. "Why are we doing this?"
"Doing… what?" He asked.
"Boone. Focus."
What were they doing? They were sitting in the Lucky 38, on the Strip. They were… doing a trial run? A trial run of what? To run. "To. Run." He managed.
She smiled at his again. He watched as Cross jerkily shifted from where she knelt and sat beside him again. He saw her glance toward the ceiling and he followed her gaze.
Boone wasn't sure how much time had passed but the intricate cracks and lines in the ceiling had suddenly lost their appeal. He went to move and noticed a heavy weight on his chest. He looked down and saw that he was relaxed back on the couch with Cross asleep on his chest.
"Back with us, Boone?" He heard from nearby. He torn his eyes off the sleeping form on his chest to look over at Arcade.
"How long?" He asked.
"About 10 minutes." Arcade verified.
"Is she still out of it?" He asked as he noticed one of his arms was wrapped around his partner.
"She's asleep. At her petite size, a single hit of Jet is enough to leave her exhausted." Arcade explained. "I told her I'd make sure you were ok. I'm actually quite surprised with how well you handled that. Most people spend their first high staring at something and drooling."
Boone looked down at the woman on his chest. He realized all three of their companions were just staring at him. "One of you want to help me get her to her room?" He said gruffly.
"Not really." Veronica said playfully.
"Then I'll have to wake her up." Boone threatened.
"Fine." Veronica sighed and helped Boone get Cross to bed.
Boone lay awake in bed that night trying to remember the details of his high. He struggled to remember the details and eventually fell asleep only remembering that Cross had been there.
Cross took a deep breath and let it out. "You sure you want to do this?" She asked from her hiding spot behind a boulder, six miles from Nellis Airforce Base.
"Can't let you do this alone." Boone began. "Besides, the NCR needs the support."
"Alright." Cross said with a nod. Both partners had stripped down their gear to the barest essentials; neither wore a pack. They both just had basic armaments and a small belt pouch of supplies. The rest of their gear sat behind the boulder in a heap. They sat side by side, backs to the boulder. "Boone?" Cross added quietly.
"Yeah?" He replied without glancing over.
Cross leaned over and gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek. He almost didn't recognize the feeling. When it finally registered what she had done he jerked his head over to look at her only to catch a glimpse of her flushed cheeks as the stealthboy activated and she shimmered out of sight. He quickly got his mind back on track as he heard his partner move out from behind the boulder. He took and deep breath then flicked on his modified stealthboy. He clamoured to his feet and started jogging toward Nellis.
Running without be able to see his feet was new to him but Boone focused on his breathing and his pace and quickly got used to it. About thirty minutes later he heard the first howitzer shell impact the sand quite a distance from him. It was followed by several more in rapid succession. He glanced toward the blast, careful not to lose his footing as he ran. The blast area was ahead of him and to the right. His eyes caught movement near the craters. So far Cross was still alive. She had kissed him. Why had she kissed him? His musings were interrupted by the sound of his stealthboy fizzling out. He pulled the heavy tech off his belt and dropped it to the sand before banking hard to the right to avoid any incoming barrages. He then reached into the pouch on his belt and fumbled for an inhaler of Jet as he ran. He panted a few breaths and reminded himself of his goal before taking his first hit of Jet.
Cross pushed herself, hard. She wanted to get to the gate with the spotting Boomers as fast as possible to limit the potential barrages. Once her stealthboy wore off she was well past the halfway point. She started to vary her direction then, to make getting a lock on her harder. She must have been faster than the Boomers were expecting since most of the blasts ended up behind her. She heard some distant blasts as she ran but she couldn't turn to look for her partner's red beret without risking losing her footing.
She was within a mile of the base when one of the gunners got lucky. The impact was close enough that she knew she was in trouble. She got her arm up in time to protect her face but the blast knocked her off her feet. She rolled when she hit the ground and clamoured back to her feet. Her ears were ringing and her head was pounding but she kept moving. Rather than start flagging, Cross reached into her belt pouch and pulled out the Jet she'd brought. She took the hit and started running again.
"Hands up!" Cross yelled as she drew dual pistols and pointed one at each of the Boomer spotters. She slid to a halt in the sand, barely holding her footing as exhaustion threatened to overcome her.
"How the hell did you survive that bombardment?" The one spotter said as he raised his hands surrender.
"Cease fire, now!" Cross demanded, knowing her partner was still out there.
"Alright, alright!" The spotter gave a signal with his hand and the firing stopped.
"Who's…" Cross began. She shook her pounding head to clear the last of the Jet and some of the exhaustion. "Who's in charge here?!" She then demanded.
"Raquel should be here any second..." The spotter said nervously as he glanced over his shoulder.
"I'll take this from here!" Was shouted from behind him. Cross twitched and pointed one of his pistols at the newcomer in combat armour. "I'm Raquel, Master-At-Arms for the Nellis homeland. Mother Pearl, our Eldest, wishes to speak to you."
"What?" Cross asked in confusion. As she did a rifle appeared in her peripheral vision.
"Both of you." Raquel added.
Cross risked a sideways glance and saw Boone standing beside her, his rifle raised and pointed at Raquel. Only because of how well she knew her partner did she notice the nearly imperceptible tremor in his hands.
"We need to treat our injuries first." He said coldly.
"We have a medical center here." Raquel said as she looked over Cross. "If you'll holster your weapons…"
Cross nodded and holstered her pistols. As she did she became keenly aware of how wet her right glove was. She glanced down and stared at her blood soaked glove. As her eyes trailed up her arm she saw the blood and sand caked to her skin. "I guess I caught some shrapnel." She said dismissively. She shrugged and took a step to follow Raquel. Her knee gave out but instead of falling, Boone was there to catch her. She looked over at him sheepishly. "Sorry." Boone helped Cross walk and they followed Raquel to the medical center. They walked behind Raquel and toward the center of the base. Everyone was staring at them. Cross saw several large hangers in the distance as well as several small buildings nearby.
"Argyll!" Raquel called as she opened the door to one of the buildings. "I've got two sav-… patients for you." Raquel stepped aside and motioned that they should enter. "I'll be waiting." She added. Cross nodded and headed into the building.
"Well, now. You two must be the two who made it through the howitzers." Argyll greeted. "Looks like you caught some shrapnel. I can deal with that."
"No." Boone said adamantly. "I will. I just need some tools."
Argyll shrugged. "Fair enough. I'll gather some supplies."
Cross sat down in a nearby chair beside a table. Boone sat opposite to her. The doctor brought over a variety of tools and supplies. Then he started to look nervous. "I'll… leave you two alone." He said and headed out of the medical building.
"Are you okay?" Cross asked her partner.
"I'm fine." He replied as he sorted through the tools. "Let me see that arm."
"Don't lie to me." Cross said indignantly. "I'm so tired I can hardly stand." She added as she took off her bloody glove and put her arm on the table.
"I'm… tired." Boone finally admitted. "Did the shrapnel get you anywhere else?"
Cross looked herself over. "No. My vest and pants seemed to have stopped the rest of it."
Boone carefully wiped the blood off his partner's arm and checked over the damage. "This might take a while." He said, mentally counting the cuts in her scarred skin. He worked slowly and methodically, starting near her shoulder. He cleaned the wounds, pulled out the shrapnel, cleaned the wound again with alcohol then stitched it closed if it was big enough. She flinched occasionally but otherwise remained still and quiet.
"You kissed me." He finally whispered when he reached her elbow.
"I did." She said sheepishly. "It was for luck. Like those princesses in the Tæles of Chivalrie magazines."
"For luck?" Boone repeated, not taking his eyes off his work. "That's all?" Cross squirmed in place at that. "Stay still." Boone said sternly, but not unkindly, as he kept working.
"I…" Cross began. "We were risking out lives. I didn't want to die without having done that." She swallowed hard, trying to control her rising blush. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and the only reason I can go on each day. I-"
"Finished." Boone interrupted. He set his tools down and looked up at Cross, who looked a little embarrassed. "Next time, don't pull away so fast." Boone said with a smirk. He reached out and took Cross's chin in his hand. Then he leaned over the table and kissed her on the lips.
Cross was sure she blushed to the tips of her ears when Boone's lips met hers. He was warm and his stubble tickled her chin. It was a chaste kiss, but when he pulled away, Cross was left panting.
"We should get some rest." Boone said after he pulled back, but while still holding Cross's chin. "I'll tell the sergeant."