Gun Powder and Maps - Chapter 8 - Like in the Movies
Brooke was standing in the Lucky 38's elevator, her head swimming with pain and nausea. The bucket of cold ice was melting after its fifth renewal of frozen water and the courier could see the eyeballs swimming around in the glassy concoction. All she could smell was blood and death.
The elevator doors swung wide and Brooke rushed to the huge screen where she often met Mr. House. "Ah, welcome back my dear girl! Had a successful trip I see," Mr. House said cheerfully as a securitron rolled out and took the bucket from Brooke's hand. She stood staring at the green screen, her legs trying to wobble from exhaustion. She hoped Raul had been able to make some decent progress on the old jaloppy she had brought to him. It would make her tavels quicker and way less tiring.
As Mr. House was beginning to start up and thank his right hand woman, Brooke slowly turned around and walked to the elevator. "Where are you going?" The speakers sounded out in the Lucky 38's owner's voice. She didn't answer, her mouth dry and her head pounding. The wastelander was in no shape to have a conversation, so she took the elevator to her presidential suite and headed for the restroom.
House had been watching the information going through his servers, showing that Brooke had gone down to the apartment he had given her. As he flicked the cameras on he first checked her bedroom. Dogmeat was lying on the floor, chewing on a Brahmin bone but no Brooke to be found. He flicked through the different rooms until he came upon the bathroom and spotted her.
House's human heart began to beat faster as he watched her undress, her dirty leather armor falling to the marble floor. She unbuckled the bra around her chest, rubbing the red imprints it had left on her skin. Brooke then slowly slid her underwear to the floor, the round ass that house enjoyed staring at finally bared to him. He wanted her to turn around, so that he could see just how perfect her curves were, to see her large ample bosom, to admire his modern day Boticelli.
But he flicked the camera off. She deserved his respect. Brooke wasn't just another one of his call girls. She was a woman that he looked upon as almost his equal.
He had kept the microphones on, and heard her turning on the faucets to her bath.
Brooke stepped into the cold bath, the warm water just beginning to flood the porcelain and warm it. She adjusted the water until it was just the right temperature, and sat down on the still cool surface as the warm water rushed around her legs. She leaned her back against the back of the tub, shivering at the feeling, as if she were leaning on a glacier, but her own body warmed the spot quickly and she let out a deep breath, glad to be sitting.
The water began to rise and she lost herself in thought. The thought turned to sleepiness and she fell asleep in the tub, her mind finally able to take no more and turned off.
Brooke had awoken with a start as the water reached her neck. She slowly raised up from the back of the tub, as to not splash water out. She delicately removed the stopper, and the water slowly began circling down the drain. The faucet was still running hot, and after the water had gotten to an acceptable level, Brooke decided to put the plug back in and fill the bath some more. She grabbed a nearby bar of soap and began to run it over her body, using her hands to scrub the dirt and blood away, suds running down her tan skin into the water.
She then ducked her head under the water and took a small amount of shampoo to wash her hair. She had no idea how House did it, but he was always able to find these pre-war comodities that Brooke had been so used to in her vault. It comforted her and made her feel at home. The courier ducked back under, rinsing her hair, and instead ran a conditioner through the wet strands. It made her hair feel silky, and she let it slide through her fingers, just wanting to feel its slick luxury. She sat for a moment watching the faucet drip until she had let the conditioner sit for a few minutes.
After she had rinsed off and dried herself off, she wrapped her hair in a towel and walked, bare butt, to her bedroom. She put on a soft cotton summer dress, trying to make herself comfortable. She could wash her other clothing later. For now, she just wanted to go upstairs and bury herself in House's library.
Brooke flipped through a large book on film stars that provided brief descriptions of some of the world's greatest actors and actresses since the beginning of the film industry. She loved looking at the first film actresses, looking at their gorgeous faces in the black and white photos. An empty bottle of wine stood on the table next to her favorite leather chair she was sitting in, and Brooke was working through a bottle of beer. She didn't get drunk often, but Brooke wanted to completely relax and she decided to get a roaring buzz.
The vaultie struggled to keep her head from moving as she flipped through the pages. She would stop and stare at a few of the pictures before moving on to the next, devouring the book as she looked through it.
"I wish I could see the first movies made. I wish I could see them act, and hear them speak. They're so elegant and beautiful. Do you have any of their movies, House? Any of Hedy Lamarr?" Brooke asked, her voice suprisingly clear for the level of intoxication she felt. House flicked onto the nearby telescreen and replied, "Yes I do. I have all her films."
"Ziegfield Girl."
"Alright."
House lowered the projection screen that was on the opposite side of the penthouse, and the film rolled into place from his collection, the black and white colors flooding the screen. There was Judy Garland, Hedy Lamarr and Lana Turner as they promenaded across the screen, stunning in their costumes.
Brooke stared in awe at the actresses and said breathily, "I wish I could be as beautiful as them." House, knowing she was drunk, said in a slow suave voice, "You are more beautiful than them, Brooke." The courier turned from the movie to stare into the eyes shown on the nearby wall monitor. She laughed and stared at the picture adoringly. House's heart momentarily skipped as she gazed at him. "Gee, you sure do know how to flatter a girl Mr. House," came her husky reply, and House felt as if Marilyn Monroe herself was speaking to him.
He only hated that he would be sending her out for another task soon. He so much enjoyed her company.
Finally, the next installment! I'm so grateful for the love and support, and thank-you to everyone who is hanging in their with me :D