Author's Note: *Cue the 1920's newsboy* New chapta here! Getcha new chapta here! ... Oh god, I have no idea what possessed me to do that... Probably the fact that it's after 5:30 AM and I've been writing for about 3 to 4 hours. I'm a night owl, but sometimes I really overwork myself. I've been writing A LOT the past few nights. 19 pages for the new chapter of From The Vault (although that one took a bit longer than I expected), 3 pages of a continuance of a humorous Dragon Age one-shot, and finally 10 pages of Wasteland Survival. The last two mentioned stories (as well as about 12 pages of From the Vault) have been written in the past 2-3 nights. So I've been really productive and I'm quite proud of myself ;) I need to cut this short so I can get to bed and rest my aching spine...enjoy the chapter and be warned that it features a drunk Clover trying to...do Clover things...

Wasteland Survival Part 22

"How could you go back to selling to Eulogy when I specifically fucking told you not to?!" Jabsco had been screaming himself blue, and Rilon had started screaming back.

"Maybe if you fucking paid me what I want, I wouldn't do that kinda shit behind your back! You know what, Jabsco? You're a fucking pussy and everyone in this goddamn bunker knows it. You just can't stand the fact that you can't control me; I should fucking kill you and run Talon Company the way it should be run!" Rilon was nose to nose with the Commander, his eyes wide with pure rage.

Jabsco recoiled like someone had thrown a bucket of hot water in his face; now that…that was fucking low, even for Rilon. Sick betrayal settled in his stomach, even heavier than before. This man had been one of his most trusted, one of his confidants, his Lieutenant. He drew the Scoped .44 Magnum from his belt before grabbing Rilon by the front of his armor and pulling him close, shoving the barrel of the gun under his chin.

"Oh yeah? I'm a fucking pussy? And you're gonna stage some little piss-ant coup against me?" He pulled back the hammer on the gun with his thumb, a low click resounding in the room as the gun was readied. The barrel was pushed further into Rilon's chin as the Commander seethed with pure rage.

Rilon blanched slightly; he hadn't expected the Commander to actually act on his threats. Without thinking, he headbutted Jabsco as hard as he could. Jabsco gave a grunt as he stumbled back, his Scoped .44 going off and sending a round into the ceiling when he tripped over the slope of the tile. The Commander hit the metal floor with the loud bang of metal against metal as his Metal Armor met the cold tile.

Rilon looked at the Commander with a smirk before turning and calmly exiting the room. The door clanged shut loudly behind him; he looked thoughtfully at the lock before drawing his pistol and putting a single round into the electronic lock, effectively trapping the Commander inside.

Jabsco climbed to his feet, nose spewing blood down his lips from the headbutt, courtesy of his newly mutinied Lieutenant. He turned the lock on the door, but it didn't open. "What the fuck?" He turned it again, more roughly than necessary. When it didn't budge, he started pounding on the door with his shoulder. "God damn it!"

Rilon gave a small laugh at the Commander's shouts of rage. "Have fun getting out of there, Commander!" The ex-Lieutenant activated the Stealth Boy that he kept on his arm and was soon slinking away from the door, invisible to the other Talons.

Jabsco turned to the intercom on the wall, mashing down the button urgently before shouting into the mic, "I want this motherfucking base on lockdown right now! Lieutenant Rilon has mutinied…shoot that son of a bitch on sight! Now I need some tech guys down here to get me the fuck out of this room!"

…

The privileges were a welcome change from being locked in her room all day. Sarah had spent all of her time in Eulogy's house for the past…well, however long it had been since she left to give food to Ray and Jericho. The lack of windows in Eulogy's home made it impossible for the Sentinel to gauge time. If she could make a rough guess, she would guess it had been around a week since she had seen her friends.

There had been some changes in Sarah's life, other than the privileges. Eulogy had been spending more time with her; so had Crimson and Clover as a result. He had also given her access to Crimson and Clover's beauty supplies. There was a wide variety of hair styling tools that had been collecting dust (which led Sarah to guess that the women had had longer hair before), but the Sentinel noted that there was absolutely no bobby pins. Wouldn't want any of your girls to pick the lock on her collar, or maybe give them to the other slaves, huh Eulogy?

There were also various make-ups clearly got more use; foundation, mascara, eyeliner, various shades of lipstick, the whole nine yards. Clearly, Eulogy spared no expense for his special girls. How the hell he had even found intact make-up baffled Sarah. She hardly ever used any of it; except for red lipstick, but only because Eulogy made her wear it. He had recently told her that she should begin wearing it; apparently Clover wasn't the only one that had thought it would accentuate her beauty. She only acquiesced in an attempt to get on his good side.

The Sentinel watched Eulogy's schedule closely, but it seemed concrete. There was no way she would have time to sneak out to talk to Ray and Jericho or look for possible points of escape. Eulogy spent most of his time here, but he would go out for a daily round of Paradise Falls just after breakfast. It still seemed that he didn't fully trust Sarah though; he usually left one of his devoted bodyguards with the soldier to make sure she wasn't up to anything.

He usually left Clover, which Sarah didn't mind. Once you got past her constantly suggestive speech, the slave wasn't unpleasant to be around; she was rather funny and full of energy. She talked a lot, something Sarah was actually grateful for. Even though Clover mostly talked about Eulogy, Crimson, or herself (when she wasn't hitting on Sarah, of course), Sarah was just happy to be able to talk to someone, even though she did a lot of listening when she was around the surprisingly bubbly slave.

Just as she thought it would, the loneliness had crept its way in. Sarah never really had to experience being truly alone before. The Brotherhood had always had plenty of people around, and even if she wasn't in the base, she wasn't alone; the Brotherhood always traveled in groups. Clover helped keep it at bay though; Sarah was shocked to discover that the libidinous slave was actually a welcome change from sitting alone in her room or sitting in tense silence with Crimson when Eulogy left her with Sarah.

The Sentinel had tried multiple times to speak with Crimson, but every time she did, the slave had insulted her or ignored her. Sarah was making much better progress with Clover however. The libidinous slave seemed to consider the Sentinel a friend at this point; surely she wouldn't have to try too much harder to get Clover to betray Eulogy.

…

Clover's sultry tone interrupted Sarah from her reverie. "Are you listening, lover? You've seemed so out of it all day."

Sarah looked up from the glass she had been fiddling with, meeting Clover's curious brown eyes. "Yeah…just thinking about Ray and Jericho," She dropped her emerald eyes back to the glass, contemplating filling it with a bit of the whiskey that sat on the table. She didn't typically like drinking, but it was becoming more appealing. Whenever the Sentinel thought about her friends, a depression settled thickly over her.

Clover arched an eyebrow and sat back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. "The guys you came in with?"

The Sentinel sighed. Sarah had been dreading this; the moment when Clover started asking questions about her, no matter what they pertained to about her life. "Yeah…"

Clover made a throaty hum as she went into thought. "So like, who are they? The guy with the scars on his face is kinda cute, in a rugged way," She trailed off and grinned as her mind went to her favorite subject.

The usually stoic Sentinel permitted herself a small laugh. "That's Ray. The older guy with the shaved head is Jericho. We sometimes gave each other a hard time, but they've been really good friends to me." It was true; they had fought bravely beside each other, and they stuck with each other through the ups and downs. Sarah's smile grew a little.

Clover leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she gave the Sentinel a suggestive smile and raised an eyebrow. "Just how good of friends?"

Sarah gave the slave a wide-eyed look and blushed slightly. "Not that good, Clover."

The libidinous slave sat back in her chair, looking disappointed. Her eyes trailed off to the floor as she shook her head in disappointment. "Really? Damn it; I was hoping for some juicy stories…"

The Sentinel rolled her emerald eyes and finally decided to pour herself some of the whiskey.

Clover watched as Sarah uncorked the bottle and poured herself a generous drink. The slave chewed at her lip in thought before finally speaking, "Pour me some of that? I've been kinda stressed lately…" She trailed off again, sighing with frustration.

Sarah cocked an eyebrow at the slave before pouring her a drink, pushing the glass across the table. Clover grabbed the glass mid-slide, downing nearly all of it in one drink. A sigh escaped her lips as she put the glass back down with a firm clink. "What's up Clover?"

The other woman fiddled with the glass before meeting Sarah's eyes. "Honestly…it's Eulogy. I'm worried about him. And his relationship with me and Crimson," she paused for a moment, her voice taking on a cynical tone, "All he talks about is you and how he has such great plans for you. It's getting ridiculous; we've only had sex three times in the last week! It used to be all night, every night!"

Sarah awkwardly looked away, sheepishly sipping her own drink. Okay…things just got awkward. And that was a little too much information…

Clover took the whiskey and drank straight from the bottle. "I don't want you to think I hate you or anything. I like you; a lot! I just miss the sex. I'm so frustrated!" She took another heavy drink, draining nearly half the bottle.

The Sentinel choked on her own drink, slamming her fist against her chest in an attempt to expel the liquid from her throat. "Clover! Too much information!"

The slave simply shrugged, draining the bottle and letting it fall to the table with a hollow glass sound. "Hey, you asked…" She trailed off into a drunken giggle.

Sarah watched Clover laughing at…something, wiggling about in her seat before letting her head fall onto the table. "I'm assuming you can't hold your liquor too well, huh Clover?" If the slave was drunk, this was an excellent opportunity to get information out of her. The Sentinel's mind raced with possibilities: patrol routes, weak spots in the walls, ways to get the collars off, slaver numbers, etc…

Clover looked up at the Sentinel with a grin, her long white mohawk falling in her face as she shook her head.

Perfect. "I see. So, um…tell me about our home. Do you have to make a lot of repairs on the walls?" Damn, this was going to be harder than she expected. How the hell was she supposed to get the information she needed without blatantly asking? This was why she was a 'rush in and shoot your problems away' type of girl, not a 'talk to your problem and try to get information out of it' type of girl.

Clover made a pssht sound and rolled her eyes before letting her head fall back onto the table. "All the damn time! Everyday it's 'Oh Ymir smashed so and so through the bar for insulting Jotun! Better fix it for the third time this week!' When it's not that, it's random weak spots from stray bullets or Ymir smashed someone through a different wall," She trailed off, mumbling something about Vikings and Super Sledges.

Weak spot at the bar. Thanks Clover. "What about around the slave pens? Did Ymir ever smash anyone through the fence or anything like that?"

The slave shook her head, looking up at Sarah through half-lidded eyes. "Let's talk about something else. That shit is soooo boring!" She groaned, putting emphasis on 'so.'

Damn it... Sarah gave a small hum of thought. "What about Eulogy? Does he ever take the collars off you or Crimson? Maybe for special privileges?"

Clover gave a groan, shifting in her chair so that she was laying her back and head on the table. "Nope, never everrrr…"

Damn it. There has to be time when he does. He apparently trusts Crimson and Clover so much. "Are you sure, Clover?"

The slave righted herself in her chair, standing to face Sarah. "Never. Now let's talk about something else…better yet, let's just not talk at all," Clover trailed off into a familiar libidinous smirk as she made her way slowly around the table towards Sarah.

The Sentinel looked up at Clover, confusion coloring her face. Clover grinned wider and pulled Sarah out of her chair, pushing her backwards roughly. Sarah gave a shocked gasp, only to be caught by the soft silk sheets on the ridiculous pink heart-shaped bed that dominated Eulogy's room.

Sarah glared at the smirking slave, propping herself up on her elbows. "What the hell was that for, Clover?"

Clover strutted forward without a word, still smirking as she climbed onto the Sentinel and pushed her back into the sheets in a laying position. "Shh. I'm drunk, and you're pretty, and I'm drunk, and turned on…" the slave managed to slur as she hovered above Sarah, inching closer to emerald eyes and full lips accentuated by ruby lipstick. "I love how Eulogy makes you wear that; shows off your pretty lips…" Clover trailed off again, pressing her lips to Sarah's in a passionate, yet one-sided, kiss.

Sarah quickly pulled out of her state of shock when Clover's lips pressed against her own, one of the slave's hands delving gently into her blonde curls while the other ran down her side to start to slide up her red dress. The Sentinel pushed Clover roughly to the side, making the slave roll off of herself before glaring at her. "What the hell are you doing, Clover?!"

Clover frowned under Sarah's cold glare. "What's wrong, lover? We were getting along so well…"

Sarah sighed heavily and rolled off of the bed. "Clover…damn it. It's just…" she fumbled for a response. She would admit that she had been slightly flirty with the slave in an attempt to gain her favor. Flirty meaning that she didn't shoot Clover down or show her disdain when Clover hit on her. She usually tried to give a giggle and act coy when the slave made suggestive comments about her. The Sentinel didn't want the façade to go further, but she didn't want to push the slave away and lose a needed ally. I need to play along, yet make things clear that they can't go any further.

"What is it, Sarah? Did I misread your signals?" Clover interrupted her reverie for the second time that day, albeit in a hurt tone this time.

Sarah sighed, her back to the slave. "No, Clover. I just think…this isn't the best time. You're drunk and sexually frustrated right now. Plus Eulogy will be back any second; he'd kill you if you got to have me before him." The urge to shoot someone welled up strongly inside of her. If I ever have to say shit like that again…someone will be getting shot…

Clover sighed heavily, flopping back on the silk sheets. "But I want you so bad..." she trailed off huskily, slowly pulling up her pink dress and willing Sarah to turn and look at her.

Sarah covered her ears and gave a cry of anguish. "No Clover! We'll both get in trouble; I have to go!" The Sentinel rushed away from the drunken slave, humming to make sure she completely blocked out everything that she would possibly hear. She rushed into her room, slamming the door behind her and blocking it with a chair.

Lesson learned; don't get Clover drunk in an attempt to get information out of her…