If Raul noticed the smell, he said nothing. In fact, he went the complete opposite route.
"Hey boss," he said, as the motley crew of people and one cyberdog set out from Jacobstown. The morning was bright and what rain had come was rapidly soaking into the ground or being evaporated back into the air. Van was shuffling along in her mostly dry shoes, still wearing the caravaneer skirt, and trying not to think about what happened.
They'd managed to escape the room after Marcus rumbled by the door, unlocking it for them when Van called out. Her face burned, remembering. Marcus knew she'd peed herself as soon as he ducked into the room, and his attitude about it had been much the same as Raul's would have been.
"What," she snapped, grumpily looking over at the ghoul.
He moved closer to her, away from Boone, and raised the skin over one eye. "Something happen last night?" he asked, cautiously.
Van's heart sank in her chest, then bounced up and hit her throat in a panic. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying not to sound nervous.
"You and el oso were gone for a long time yesterday..." Raul scratched his nasion.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Van said, and this time her voice wobbled a little too much.
"You might be faint of heart, but I doubt you're that dumb, boss," he replied, dryly. "I wonder what went on, is all."
Oh, God. Van's face flushed bright red. That―that was actually worse than the thought of him nagging at her for peeing herself! "N-nothing," she stammered, glancing at Boone and seeing his eyes stuck to her own like he'd rather be anywhere but where they were.
It wasn't unusual to see Boone like that. She gathered her wits about her and took a calming breath.
"Nothing." Raul moved slowly but he had always seemed tireless to her. Same as how he pestered her, never giving up. She supposed he had to be that way, or he'd have died long ago.
"It's not that," Van said, feeling less confident than she had. "The door accidentally locked and I ran out of bobby pins. Marcus had to let us out." She looked away from the men and at the mountains, her eyes peeled for Bighorners.
"Why the change of clothes, then?" Raul pressed, his voice somehow digging into her ears.
Van stared a hole in the nearest banana yucca until they passed it, her face a mask of embarrassed terror. Seriously? This was seriously happening? How did she―what should she say―
"She's flighty," Boone said, suddenly. The others turned their eyes onto him, including Rex. Boone gave a dismissive movement, scoffing slightly. "You know women."
Van colored violently. She never knew how to take things said by the man, and now this―this seemed like he was trying to help her―
Was it too much to ask that he be consistent? Van groaned to herself. She couldn't figure out anyone, anymore. Maybe it was the bullet through the head. God, she hoped it was the bullet through the head. Boone's new attitude made her nervous as hell.
"¿Cómo no?" Raul said, looking at Boone with a strange expression. It was hard to tell what Raul meant, what with his ghoulified condition, but Van didn't think the look was a pleasant one. When he turned back to her, raising the skin above one eye, the look was gone.
"It was humid," Van sputtered. "I got hot, and the skirt helped. Shut up."
She expected him to pick on her about that, but for whatever reason Raul decided to leave it unanswered, staring thoughtfully off into the distance.
Van shot Boone a final distressed look before they continued along the road, toward Freeside. Boone didn't say a word, either.
The atmosphere remained that tense all the way into Freeside. Van had no idea what to make of it.
The trip back through Freeside was no less baffling. Van sent Raul back up to the Lucky 38, mostly because she trusted him alone in the suite over Boone―who would almost certainly eat all her food, God forbid the man go hungry for even a moment―
Rex had been growling at Boone's beret, almost the whole trip. That was just as aggravating as the weird reversal of attitudes between the men, and Van was at her wit's end trying to figure out what was going on.
Boone seemed like he liked the cyberdog but was having little luck calming him down. He'd been talking under his breath, gentle words, and Van was surprised he bothered. Maybe... maybe Boone liked dogs, she didn't know. Hadn't ever asked.
Seemed like something she should fix. But Boone had that air of impressive intimidation about him, and she wasn't so sure she wanted to poke at that cazador nest... not even if it was to satisfy her own curiosity.
Raul implied that she just wanted to be alone with the sniper. He made the accusation in a way that took her a moment to catch. She flushed a little, at the thought. It really seemed like he thought there was something going on...
"If you really want me to leave, boss, I will," Raul said, sounding tired. That much was normal for him, thank God.
"Just go!" Van shouted. "Get out of here, then. I'll see you back at the Lucky 38." She felt her nerves fraying, just trying to keep her temper in the tension.
Raul nodded and started ambling away. Boone glanced up from his crouch, down on the asphalt near Rex's level. "Easy, boy," he murmured.
Van turned to see Rex sniffing at Boone's hand with a low growl in his throat. "Is that smart?" she wondered. "We're about to drop him off. Can't get attached."
The sniper's mouth twitched. "Good dog," he said, shrugging a shoulder in the same way he had up on the mountain.
"Let's just get this over with, okay?" Van groaned.
He nodded and stood, glancing around briefly. Van made her way over to the Kings building, calling Rex to her side. Boone kept pace behind them, silently.
Inside the building, Van made a beeline for the theater door. She'd taken about five fast steps before she jumped out of her skin, shrieking incomprehensibly.
Pacer popped up out of nowhere, shouting at her and scaring her. Van staggered back, hand to her heart and blinking rapidly.
"Too easy." The man grinned at her. "You're too much."
"God―you―" Van reconciled her fear with defensive anger, clenching her hands into fists and shaking slightly. "You asshole!"
Great, her easily frightened nature was all over Vegas, now―and these bastards would take advantage of that―
Boone moved past her, putting a hand out onto Pacer's face and pushing him away. "Come on, Van," he said, calmly, staring at the Kings member as he shoved him back with one hand.
She was too shocked to react, at first, but recovered and motioned Rex forward. They slipped into the theater with Boone right behind.
What just happened? Boone usually stayed in the background, never saying a word, and let her take all the hits. Why did he―she was confused. Why was he bothering to try to be friendly, so suddenly?
And why was Raul now the tense, terse one? He should have teased her mercilessly, before. Instead he was acting worried or something, shooting her and the sniper strange looks and being ice cold.
She wished she understood people better, sometimes. It was better to know than to wonder, even if it was something frightening. Like those stupid cazadores hitting the windows up in the lodge. After Boone had said that was what he thought it was, she wasn't half as scared.
Shaking her head, she approached The King's table and smiled sheepishly at him. Whatever was going on with Boone, she still wasn't sure she would figure out. But couldn't do anything about it, she supposed.
"Rex?" The King's face lit up with a smile. "You're looking better, boy." He rubbed the side of the cyberdog's face and grinned like a little boy. "Thanks, doll."
"No problem." Van nodded at him. "Rex is fine, but, uh... well, he's got a new brain. Dr. Henry said the problem was the brain itself wasn't working right."
"Still," The King replied, looking overjoyed to have the cyberdog back at his side, "you did good. Rex seems like he's taken to you, too. Listens real good, you know?"
Van smiled at Rex. "I never had a dog before," she told him. "But if I did have a dog, I'd want one like Rex. He's a pretty good dog."
She noticed Boone nodding out of the corner of her eye. That settled the matter, in her mind. He must like dogs.
The King stilled his hand on Rex's fur, looking up at her with a thoughtful face. "Maybe you oughta take him," he said, slowly. "Sure he'd do better at your side than mine."
Van's mouth dropped. "I―" She glanced at Boone, who was watching Rex with a strange look on his face. "I don't know," she said. "He's got that thing about hats..."
"Hasn't been trouble," Boone commented, quietly. He glanced at Van, almost thoughtfully.
"...And I don't know how to take care of a dog," Van added, looking down.
"It ain't as hard as you'd imagine," The King said, amused. "Rex would do you some good, watching your back."
"Yeah, but―" Van scratched her head. "...I mean, he's your dog."
"Hate to say it, but everyone knows you scare real easy." The King sat back in his chair and considered her. "Rex would be helpful. Keep you safe."
Van stiffened, standing up straighter and staring at The King with narrowed eyes. "I don't rightly care what people say," she said, as meanly as she could. Her voice wavered slightly. "And I don't need a guard dog. No thank you, King."
Boone snorted. The King glanced at him quickly, then nodded at Van. "If that's your decision."
"It is," she said, turning and moving away. She made it as far as the lobby door before she stopped, sighed, and closed her eyes. God, she was so stupid. Felt like hitting herself, acting such a fool. She didn't like getting so scared―and having people point it out only made her feel worse―
She groaned, covering her face with a hand. She'd better apologize to The King. It wouldn't be good to have him angry at her. He might not like her not taking Rex―even as a present―Van turned around and opened her eyes, intending to go back to The King and try to scrape her way out of the awkward situation.
She jumped again. Boone was standing directly behind her, looking down at her.
Her poor heart couldn't take much more. She fell back onto the door, reaching for the handle in her fright. Staring down the surly sniper, eyes wide and heart hammering against her rib cage, she felt even more a fool. Van's breath caught in her throat as she stammered out an excuse.
She didn't actually say anything. It came out more as a squeak. Her face flushed with blood.
Boone's face was impassive. "You need to calm down," he said.
"I―I can't," she breathed, dropping her eyes to his chest. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but knew it was futile.
Boone looked over his shoulder and back to her. "Why not?"
Van closed her eyes again. "I don't know," she muttered. Wiped her nose and blinked away the coming flood of tears. "I really don't."
He looked at the door over her head for a moment. His face was as blank as ever. Van's breathing slowed and she managed to get her heartbeat under control. Boone reached around her, quickly, and opened the door―the door Van that was leaning on―and she tumbled backward, her hands going out to catch the nearest thing―
Which, of course, was Boone. Van shrieked as she kept falling backward. She felt helpless and her face was wet with the tears now, something she barely noticed because―
Boone had her under one shoulder, lifting her up and propelling her out of the building, her feet never quite catching purpose on the sidewalk or asphalt as he bull rushed her across the road. Van collapsed outside of the Kings building in a shuddering heap of arms and legs, swiftly curling herself up into a ball.
"You don't know," Boone said, calmly.
She knew that tone. It was a tone that meant serious business. A disbelieving and bitter tone, one that Boone was very good at giving. When she'd first met him, he'd been full of that bitterness...
Van buried her face in her knees, hiccuping and silently crying at the same time. At least he'd earned the right to be bitter. She couldn't say why she got scared! She―
"You don't know," he repeated.
"No!" she strangled out, squeezing her eyes shut.
She didn't know why. There was no use in fighting, anymore. Couldn't make up something as an excuse, either, because she wasn't good at lying. And she'd have the strain of keeping up the lie―
"I got shot in the head," she said, breathlessly, the hiccups making her shake rhythmically. "That's all I remember, okay!"
She thought she heard a dogged sigh, but convinced herself that all she heard was silence.
...Unless you counted the curious sounds of passers-by and the general noise of Freeside. Van was suddenly aware that she was cowering on the street under Boone's probably hostile glare. It was not at all a good situation for the Freesiders to see.
Her reputation was bad enough as it was! Van uncurled herself, pushing up off of the ground with trembling arms and wiping her face on dirtied sleeves, moving up toward Vegas. Didn't say a word, just left.
Boone stood in place for a moment before he moved to follow her, silently, onto the Strip.
"You look like you fought a dust devil, boss," Raul said to Van, as she walked out of the elevator. "And lost," he added, more quietly. He gave her a curious glance.
She ignored him, moving across the hallway and into the master suite. Slammed the door behind her, then leaned backward onto it and stared at the ceiling.
Crying like that, in public, had drained her. She felt like someone had opened the tap and let out every last bit of fighting spirit that she possessed. She was exhausted.
Van wiped her face again, smearing the dust mixed with leftover tears onto her sleeve. She pushed herself from the door, weakly, moving to put away her rifle. She was kicking off her shoes when someone knocked on the door.
"Not decent," she called, grunting with effort to pull the slightly damp―still? she thought incredulously―boots from her feet. She was gonna get a rash or something, wearing urine-soaked boots for so long.
"Got a question, jefe," Raul drawled, through the door.
Van sniffled, sucking snot up into her head. "It can wait," she muttered to herself, then repeated it louder for his benefit.
"I'm an old man," he answered, in that irritatingly calm manner he had. "I could drop dead any time. You'd like that?"
Van rolled her eyes, but dropped her boot to the floor and walked across the room. She jerked the door open and stared at the ghoul, not because she wanted to talk to him but because he would pester her constantly if she didn't at least answer him. "What do you want, Raul?"
"You in trouble?" Raul asked, very quietly. He gave her a soft smile. It was unnerving, actually. Van blinked at him, taken aback by the sudden show of emotion on his face. She'd never seen him look quite like that... his words sunk into her tired brain and she boggled even more.
"What?" she answered, lowering her own voice in reply to his. "What trouble?"
Raul moved, reaching out a half-melted, half gnarled hand and grabbing the edge of the door just above where she'd laid her own hand. "¿El oso y el oposum? You fighting?"
Van was even more confused. "What is an 'oposum'?" she asked, screwing up her face.
Raul pulled the door from her grasp, shutting it noiselessly and jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "You get into a fight with the bear?" he asked, bluntly, his voice more sharp and sounding much more dangerous than she'd ever heard.
"God, no." Van shook her head at him. "Why would I fight with Boone? I mean..." her voice trailed off.
Now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure what had happened. It wasn't a fight, but... felt like Boone had tried to scare her? Or was he trying to get an answer from her about why she was scared? She didn't know. Right now, she didn't care. Just wanted to change her clothes and go eat something―preferably away from the Lucky 38―and forget how embarrassed she'd been.
"No, there wasn't a fight," she answered, definitively.
Raul was staring at her with a decidedly unpleasant look on his face. "But you were crying?" he said, lifting a mangled hand to her face and wiping away the moisture.
She wasn't proud of how she flinched away from his touch, even if was out of character for him. Van's eyes got wide, her mouth falling into an unsure half-frown, staring at Raul and not blinking.
Neither one of them said anything, for a long time. Finally, Van opened the door to the bedroom and walked out, her chin trembling, and locked herself into the bathroom.
