*** there is a part where the text cuts to italics, there is supposed to be a line break there but my documents editor keeps cutting it out. I'll fix it when I have the chance.
"So, how exactly are we pulling this off?"
"Quite simple, actually," Gehenna locked the safe beside she and Vulpes' bed, folding the documents in her hands gently, as if she were afraid they would crumble. "We're genuinely infiltrating the Strip. Caeser may have eyes everywhere but he has no genuine occupation inside; the closest he has is McCarren. Caeser wants Vulpes inside Gomorrah and the Ultra Luxe, he wants to recruit them to his cause," she slipped the papers into a hidden pouch in her suitcase and then locked that as well. "He wants me to tag along, and seeing as you are now my personal doctor..."
"But why does he want us to tag along," Arcade hissed, watching the tent flap for intruders. "Gehenna, you gotta be suspicious."
"Of course I am," she popped her lips. "But to find out what he wants, I have to play along - and that means you as well."
"This is a very bad idea," Arcade began to wring his hands in front of himself.
"The sad part is, every time you've said that in the past, you were right. Very right," she handed off the suitcase to Arcade. "And I know I may regret this, but Vulpes seems eager about this trip. So I'm now curious as to whats going on, what's been said behind closed doors."
"Curiositt killed the cat," Arcade warned.
Gehenna sighed as they stepped out into the harsh sunlight of middy; she fumbled eith her sunglasses for a moment but managed to slide them on and huffed in relief, beginning the slow waddle down to the docks. The grounds were suprisingly empty, only a small handful of soldiers guarding the three gates used for protection against Caeser's tent. It was a relief, to not walk under so many scrutinizing eyes, and Gehenna had a genuine smile.
"I didn't think you still had those."
Gehenna blinked and looked up at Arcade, who gestured down. "Oh, the jeans," she rubbed the soft fabric on the sides of her thighs. "Cas loved these things, I'm happy she gave them to me too. They're probably the only thing I have that still fits, besides dresses."
"He did that to piss you off...the dress thing."
"Oh I am quite aware of that," Gehenna grumbled. "But enough of that - we're here."
Vulpes was discussing something over a clipboard with a recruit, tongues hushed. When he spotted Gehenna, he thrust the clipboard into the recruits chest and approached her slowly, eyeing the blue jeans she was wearing. She wasn't really paying attention to him, she was staring out over the water, inhaling the scent of fresh water as the breeze rolled it over them. Arcade side stepped Vulpes, hopping down into the small Lifeguard boat, setting his and Gehenna's luggage in the bunk beneath deck.
"Are you ready," Vulpes murmured, helping the pregnant woman down into the boat with a gentle hand.
"Duh," she sighed as she lowered herself into a cushioned bench. "Ah, thats nice," she rolled her shoulders eyes closed as she all but purred.
"This tower is amazing!"
"It won't be so amazing when you plummet to your death."
"Boo Boone! Ha! Boo Boone," Veronica giggled, grabbing tight to the back of Gehenna's vest. "Whoa there, sweetheart," she chuckled, pulling Gehenna back.
"Nooo," she flailed before tumbling back and landing mildy - painfully on her rump; Boone actually chuckled when she bounced, a dumbfound expression on her face. "Veronica! You're ruining it!"
"Ruining what," Veronica slumped into a chair beside Boone. "You dying? God, I'm the worst."
"At least you get it," Gehenna staggered to her feet, almost tumbling back again but Boone was there, balancing her. "You both suck," she stuck her tongue out at them.
"Go to bed," he insisted.
"Nah," Gehenna popped her lips. "I like it too much out here," she pulled away from him and smiled at the dark sand of the desert. "We should go on an adventure."
"Its 3:00 a.m. and you're drunk," Boone gripped her around her middle and began to carry her back towards the cocktail lounge door. "Bed."
"I'm sure you'd like her in bed," Veronica snickered, tipping back the mini Vodka bottle she had in her hand; she could have sworn that was full sized...
"Quiet," Boone quipped. "You could help," he mumbled as Gehenna scrambled for the glass doorframe.
"Nah, looks like you got it."
"I will drain your blood slowly."
"At least we'll be bonding."
Boone sent her a deep, resenting glare until the elevator doors closed. Gehenna continued to whine in her arms, feet dragging and making it difficult for Boone to walk as he drags her towards the Presidential Suite.
"Come on, " he gripes.
She flails and falls onto the bed when he drops her, fingers tightening in the sheets when she goes to slide away. "You suck," she mumbles, wiggling under the sheets.
Boone bent over her, suprisingly gentle as he untangles her goggles from her hair. Her eyes watch him, but he doesn't notice until she has her lips against his. He's surprised, incredibly so, but he doesn't pull away. He just...sits there. And that discourages her. He hears the subtle pop of lips seperating and looks down at her behind his glasses, something akin to guilt in his stomach.
"G...Goodnight, Boone," she mumbles, suddenly coherent.
He still doesn't speak, just straightens and stomps out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Raul in his room, rifling through several old crates they hauled in, he can see Veronica fumbling with the bra of some girl with Quantum colored hair straddling her boney hips.
Boone rubbed his face and turns into the opposite direction, taking the ten steps into his blank room. Blank walls, simple bed - not those over lavish silk sheets Gehenna adores or the crimson velvet Veronica and the stranger are tumbling in; Raul seems most logic...but his sheets under that blue comforter are still Repconn rockets.
Boone sits on the end of his bed, taking off his beret and glasses, setting them to the side. He leans onto his knees, threading his fingers under chin. Conflicted. It had been so long since he had felt this way...
"Dammit, Gehenna."
Arcade remembers finding Boone.
Bloody, broken, lying on a cot in the safehouse - a gift from Julia, who wept for the fallen sniper as though they had actually known each other; leave it to Julia to be the bleeding heart, Arcade wondered how she had ever made it so far in her profession, he was sure somewhere down the line she would burst into hysterics during and operation and nick someones artery.
Arcade remembers telling everyone the grim news.
Cas was piss drunk, but coherent enough to not speak the rest of the night, apparently trting to drown herself in her alcohol. ED - E made frantic beeps for hours until Arcade finally had to send him on a fake errand. Veronica could only weep, and help bury the man.
Goodsprings Bone Orchard was the request, by a mysterious letter giving them directions on how ro bury him and who to give him to for preperations. Doc Mitchell, the same man to fix their Courier who was missing.
The scary part of it all was that the Doc seemed to be working on auto pilot. Like he knew what happenes and knew what was in the letter; he didn't even read it. Arcade remained suspicious of the man through the whole process; as they carried Boone's corpse in a blood stained sheet, as they buries him in a filled grave marked 6.
"She introduced us a long time ago," Mitchel explained, leaning against the doorframe to his home; he wouldn't let Arcade inside, but really that wasn't unusual, they didn't even know each other. "Was a good man, deserved better. I just can't believe she was the one to pull the trigger."
Arcade had blinked, bewildered. "Excuse me?"
Mitchell cocked his head to the right then chuckled. "Right, you didn't dig the bullet out of her skull..." he cleared his throat. "Same fragments in his skull as hers. She kilt that Benny fella, right? Got his gun? Saw the posters sent out o' her with it in her hand. She shot him, no doubt about it."
"The first time you said it...you spoke like you expected someone else to put a freakin' bullet in his head..." Arcade furrowed his brow. "Is there something I'm missing?"
"Nope," Mitchell chirped. "Goodbye, Mr. Gannon."
As the door slammed in his face, Arcade could only feel suspicion.
He had never told the old man his last name.