The first place Sandra decided to visit was the store across the way.
While Niner made humorous small talk with Cocker and Cutty in the barber shop, and while Arcade listened patiently to Old Man Brimley's past raider stories behind the diner counter in the motel—Sandra and Vulpes headed for the munitions store.
She trekked through the snow and hurried inside to escape the cold, closing the rickety wooden door just after Vulpes entered beside her. Then, she turned—facing the rest of the store and skimming over the short aisles of random items, one on either side of her, the counter and the register just opposite her, a man with a roving trader's hat lingering behind the counter while flipping through a magazine.
Vulpes began skimming over the various bins of grenades along the nearest shelf, and Sandra sauntered over to the counter.
"He-hey," Sandra said in a friendly way, giving the man a simple wave. "You wouldn't happen to have any plasma grenades here, would you?"
The man slowly lowered his magazine, eyeing her curiously. "Why… you need to blow up some more outlaws?"
Sandra took slightly back, then laughed it off. "Only the bad ones."
He stared—then, to her relief, he cracked a smirk. "Well, good. Glad you know the difference between the good and bad ones. I don't have any in the bins, but I just got a shipment from the caravan today, so let me check in the back real quick."
"Alrighty."
Sandra waited while the man vanished into his back room, and he returned moments later with a box of various goods—including the faint greenish glow of two plasma grenades.
"Sweeet," Sandra grinned, plucking them both from the box. "You can never have too many of these. Ultimate failsafe plan for when all other plans go out the window."
"Oh, yeah, you're damn right," the man agreed with a nod. "Back in the old days, whenever I came across one of these things… God, it made my day. Made me certain I'd have a victorious little streak of luck for the rest of the week."
"Yeah?" Sandra said interestingly. "What did you do back in the day? What's your story?"
The man glimpsed up at her briefly before staring down into his box of goods again, releasing a deep cloud of breath.
"Name's Cal," he told her. "And I used to be a… raider."
Sandra squinted at him. "You seem like you don't like talking about it. You know there are a lot worse people than raiders around here, right?"
Cal spared a dry little laugh. "Ah-huh. Well… it actually led me into a weird kind of… I guess… movie situation."
"Movie situation?"
"Yeah… a whole complicated scenario that sounds like a pre-war rom-com movie. I was raiding my ass off, and doing a damn good job of it, too… until I met this girl. And I fell for her hard. It's crazy… but… I never even second-guessed anything I was doing until I met her. In my head, it was all just survival. But… she made me consider the… decency of the situation. Or the lack of it, I should say. Anyway… me and her got together… but her father was the sheriff, and he wasn't having it. So, we ran away together, and we came here… left it all behind. But, then… the fever took her… years ago. I buried her… up by the church, over there…"
Cal trailed off and fell silent, Sandra gnawing her lip and feeling a touch of empathy inside.
"I'm sorry," she sighed. "But… hey, at least you both had it for a while. That kind of love is a rare find. A short happy life is better than a long empty one… least I think so."
"Yeah," Cal mumbled, nodding halfheartedly. "But… I always wonder if things might've gone different, if… if I just kept playing my role, being a raider. If I did, then she never would've come here, and she might still be alive now. People always ask if you can change… but I wonder more if you should change."
"She wouldn't have been as happy if you never met her," Sandra told him. "And everybody changes all the time. You just gotta do whatever you can with it."
Cal stared down for a moment longer, then nodded again. "Yeah, okay, fair points. Kind of a simplistic take on it, but… doesn't mean it's not true."
"Well… I speak from experience," Sandra said. "But that's just based on what I went through."
Cal replied, and the two of them continued conversing for a while—long enough to allow Vulpes to examine everything in the store, then stand with folded arms behind the courier and wait for her to be done with immense boredom.
Eventually, she gave Cal her goodbyes and fastened the two new plasma grenades onto her side with the others, replacing the ones she'd used earlier in the day. She and Vulpes strolled out of the store and visited the next one over—the general store.
This one looked mostly the same on the inside, but with various miscellaneous items rather than bullets and gun parts, and the vendor was a man in a cowboy hat. Sandra spent some time trading stories and small talk with him as well—learning of his past wife, who recently left to California after growing tired of the cold.
"Never had anything like what Cal had," the man told her. "But, since me and her liked to fuck… we thought might as well have kids. Kids are as close as you can ever come to mortality. Anyway, she left for better pastures, not on bad terms or anything…"
Sandra nodded along as he spoke, then replied with a similar story of her own, her perilous tale of travel from back east.
Once this was over—Sandra and Vulpes found themselves wandering into the metal shack at the end, a shop called Tim's Repairs.
This building was wide and spacious inside, with metal shelves and a few work benches along the walls, a single countertop extending through the center. A woman was in the back, preparing dinner for herself and her husband—and the husband, Big Tim, bulky and towering, was standing at the counter and hammering a crooked slab of metal into a straighter shape.
Sandra spoke with him for a while, swapping idle chatter before their conversation became a bit more personal, just like the ones before—and now, Vulpes was incredibly bored and impatient, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, repeatedly swallowing sighs.
Big Tim soon grew intense as he told the tale of how he ended up in Frosthill—detailing his life back in his hometown, where his sister was accosted by an NCR solder who was lusting for her, despite that she wasn't interested in him. The soldier raped and killed her, and the NCR let him go free—so, Tim took it upon himself to kill the man in his sleep, making himself into an outlaw.
Sandra stood silently after hearing the disturbing tale, then uttered out a thoughtless response.
"Well, yeah, I… I'd probably do the same thing," she mumbled.
"Then you get it," Tim replied, his intense tone now softening. "You get what real justice means… and it doesn't mean the same thing it does on paper. Hell, you oughta know that better than anybody… being one of their bounty hunters."
"One of their…?" Sandra stared at him, and it took her a moment to understand what he meant. "Oh… no… I'm not with the NCR. I'm with Randall & Associates."
Tim gave her an odd look. "What's the difference…?"
"Randall & Associates is an independent firm. They're just working with the NCR on a few of the bounties they have lined up," Sandra explained. "Hell, Randall doesn't like half the stuff they do… but he needed money and info to do his thing, so… that little partnership had to come to be. For now, anyway."
Tim made a slow, understanding nod, biting his lip and cocking out his jaw. "Huh. I didn't know there was an independent faction out here. When that suit came down here asking the mayor to compromise, we figured you all just wanted to kill all of us and take over."
"Nooo… Randall just wants to clean out the really bad guys," Sandra informed. "The NCR are the only ones who want control."
"Well, holy shit. I bet half my buddies in the saloon would be happy to hear that," Tim remarked. "A bunch of them are paranoid about the day you all storm in here and just open fire on us. We didn't even know you were part of them until someone saw you stroll out of that cave. Caravaner came into town, same time he always does… and he saw what you did today on his way here, told all kinds of stories about you walking into a little camp of outlaws and walking right back out after the place got blown to hell."
"Hah… yeah, that's pretty much what happened. We're only after the really bad guys, though."
"Good to know."
The two of them finished their conversation and said their farewells, then Sandra led Vulpes back outside, greeted again by the icy night air.
They traded looks, then trekked across the way, heading toward the barber shop.
Vulpes sighed. "Are we not done yet…?"
Sandra shot him a caustic smirk. "Calm down. I'm just gonna check on Niner. We're done."
She pulled the door open, and the two of them waltzed into the shop, but the room was empty. They heard a faint ambiance of chatter and laughter from the back room, so they crossed the room and pushed the employee door open, leaning into a small, smoky room and seeing Niner, Cocker, Cutty, and Al Swearer sitting around an old splintery table, puffing on cigarettes and entertaining a game of poker.
"Aaaah—suck it," Niner grinned, flattening his cards to the table and scooping the pot towards himself, a pile of caps and a jet inhaler. "Full house—I win—all mine."
"Well—fuck my ass in half," Cocker growled, slapping his cards down and rolling his neck.
"Ha-ha-haaah," Cutty laughed at him.
"Motherfuckin' junkie got the luck of the angels," Al griped. "Congradu-fuckin-lations."
"Heeey—look who it is," Cocker said, glancing up and spotting Sandra leaning into the doorway. "You wanna get in on this?"
"Nah… just checking on my friend here," Sandra replied, making a loose nod toward Niner. "We gotta head to bed. Night."
They all shouted their goodbyes to her, and Sandra and Vulpes strolled outside once more.
The two of them finally returned to the motel, basking in the warmth of the inside and seeing Arcade sitting in the corner booth of the diner area, hunched beside the far window and polishing off a steak dinner. He licked his fingers, gave his thanks to the old man, then joined Sandra and Vulpes as they all headed up the stairs.
Once inside their suite, Arcade instantly vanished into the bathroom and closed the door, and Sandra heard the shower turn on moments later.
Then, she turned to Vulpes, seeing that he was gazing thoughtfully out the window.
Sandra slowly slid her hands into her pockets, eyeing him curiously.
"Whatcha thinking?" she asked, sauntering closer to him.
Vulpes stared at the small town from above, his visage soft and distant in a way that scarcely suited him in the past.
When Sandra stopped beside him, she glanced over, spotting his expression and feeling, again, as if he'd been changed somehow, as if he'd undergone an awakening of some kind. To see him so peaceful and reflective was a strange sight, to say the least.
"Nothing," he eventually replied, still staring outside, his voice having diminished into a soft, low whisper.
"Mmm… you only say 'nothing' when you think it's not important," Sandra knew, gently nudging her elbow to his arm. "C'mon."
"It's not important," Vulpes exhaled, his breath leaving a faint cloud on the glass.
"Then tell me," Sandra urged.
There was a pause, Vulpes sighing again and sparing her a brief glimpse. Then, he stared outside once more, gently gnawing his lip as he dwelled deeply in his thoughts.
"Stupid things," he uttered.
Sandra's eyes narrowed. "Like what…?"
Vulpes fell silent for several seconds more, releasing a heavy breath.
"What that man said about… children," he mumbled.
Sandra stared, pondering on this and thinking of her conversations with the shop vendors, making a slow, single nod. "Yeah…?"
"I've often thought the same… myself," Vulpes murmured wispily. "Life isn't long enough to live out every want and goal… but, children… children sometimes… carry it on for you."
Sandra nodded again, wearing a peculiar face and eyeing him interestingly.
"And, the other… the man with the… hat," Vulpes muttered, waving loosely around his own hat. "He actually got what he wanted… before she perished."
Sandra continued to stare, thinking of absolutely nothing to say, feeling somewhat astonished that Vulpes Inculta was even speaking on matters such as this. He seemed to be mulling over ideals of romance and children, and anyone who knew him would think this just as impossible as Sandra did.
"I wonder…" Vulpes exhaled, pausing for a long, quiet moment. "If people like them can… then, I wonder…"
He trailed off, falling entirely silent.
Sandra reeled slightly back, ogling him as if she'd never seen anything quite like him before.
It almost sounded as if he was entertaining the idea of settling down.
Vulpes Inculta settling down?
"You think you want… kids?" Sandra breathed thoughtlessly.
"Someday," Vulpes mumbled, still gazing deeply into the town outside.
Sandra squinted at him bizarrely. "Who are you?"
Vulpes scoffed out the faintest hint of a laugh, barely revealing a half-smile as he continued staring into the darkened Frosthill.
"I've read that book, you know," he said.
Sandra blinked and shot him a double-take. "What book…?"
"That book you spoke of before… the Bible," Vulpes told her. "Only bits and pieces, left behind after the burned man was pitched off the ravine… but, I did find it rather interesting that… in that book… an angel became a devil."
Sandra managed another nod, still surveying him oddly.
"And… it truly makes me wonder," Vulpes uttered breathlessly. "If an angel can become a devil… then, perhaps… a devil can become an angel."
Sandra said nothing, totally stunned to silence, feeling as if she was dreaming, as if this conversation might've been a pure figment of her wild imagination. She could hardly believe such things would float out the mouth of Caesar's greatest frumentarius.
"Perhaps a fallen angel," Vulpes corrected himself, making a sideways nod. "A broken, bastardized, beaten version of an angel… but, nonetheless… something better than a devil."
"That sounds like both of us," Sandra muttered.
Vulpes breathed out another laugh, eyeing the town below rather intently now.
"This place is a safe haven for the devils who crawl their way towards redemption," he pondered aloud. "And there are… children… here."
Sandra gave him yet another wild look, completely flabbergasted. "You—are you—are you thinking about settling down here?"
"Well… like I said," Vulpes sighed. "Stupid things. Stupid thoughts."
"It's not stupid, it's just—not—what I expect," Sandra stammered. "Not from you."
Vulpes's brows raised, his eyes still lost in the town.
"Nor me," he uttered. "But it's… a nice stupid thought to entertain."
"But you… you just… okay." Sandra paused, massaging her temples before she spoke on. "Okay… but you need a girlfriend for that. Plus, you'd end up breaking off from us, and that just sucks. Who would you even have kids with?!"
Vulpes took in a deep breath, then finally tore his gaze from the window—his sharp, piercing eyes landing firmly onto her.
Sandra met his intense gaze, then instantly took back, reading his expression and feeling her heart make a sudden violent jolt.
"I'm raaamblin' man!" Niner yelled as he busted into the room—making Sandra jump and gasp. "Ooooh, I'm a gamblin' man…!"
Sandra wheeled around and gaped at him, watching as Niner swaggered and danced gleefully across the suite, swinging two sacks of caps around and humming victoriously as he did. He plopped down on the couch and sprawled across it, happily placing his gambling winnings on the floor beside him.
Then, the bathroom door creaked open, and a damp-haired Arcade leaned out, making an odd face and squinting strangely over at Niner.
"Oooh, I'm sorry—was I disturbin' your happy alone time?" Niner cackled at him. "Hahahah. I won us money, Doctor Man."
"Well… good for you," Arcade replied tonelessly. "But there are other people sleeping in this motel, you know. None of them want to hear you screaming a string of broken song lyrics into the dead of night."
"You don't know that."
"Yes I do."
"How d'you know?"
"Because I don't wanna hear it. And I can't imagine why any sober ears ever would."
"Oh, that's just mean…"
As the two of them quipped back and forth—Vulpes calmly wandered over to the bedside, shedding his glove and suit jacket and preparing to retire for the night.
Sandra stared at him from behind, deciding it was best to abandon their initial conversation.
They all needed a good night's rest before they resumed the bounty hunting tomorrow.
And besides—she couldn't know what to say to Vulpes now, even if they could talk further.