EDIT: 14/10/18

Still no closer to finding out where Boone's wife had gone, Annie was lying face down on her bed. She had a terrible headache from the constant revelations she was having all at once – the Khans, the men, the relentless coldness of her hands. It was like she was transitioning from what she thought she was into something completely different. There was nothing that could describe the feeling that she got when she remembered something else – like an intense weight off of her shoulders coupled with a rough smack in the face.

With Manny's help, he had unknowingly enlightened her about what exactly made her tick. Her teenage years were coming back like beads of sand running through her fingers.

He had called her Anna, which is what she guessed was her real name. Annie was close though – she would stick with Annie. There was no real sound to any of the memories coming through - like a silent movie that ran through without pause. Just deep breathing and lots of raucous laughter - happy laughter in the faces of people that she felt she didn't care for. Blood, lots of blood and a thrilling feeling of pain mixed with… arousal? That was fucked up.

The courier knew that she wasn't the person she had hoped for. Maybe the reason she was shot in the head was fate telling her that she had done no good. The voice that spoke around Manny and Boone was probably who she used to be, and that was alarming.

But then again, maybe fate didn't exist at all.

Annie rolled onto her back and sat up, lighting a cigarette before resting her chin on her scarred palms. Why fight what was inevitable, she thought to herself. The voice, her voice, was owned by a confident, sensual woman. She saw how uncomfortable she had made Manny with just her words, and it made her gut twinge with pride. She had been handed this situation that she should have been taking advantage of!

Standing, she began to dig through her backpack - the raggedy old thing that had accompanied her down from her grave in Goodsprings. Fingers scrabbling against the rough fabric, she found a small card, fishing it out with shaky fingers. The card was the Jack of Clubs, graced by a naked, though classy, woman, probably belonging to some post-war casino. Why fucking fight the inevitable? The woman on the card looked like she was having so much fun – all made up and cuddling some clubs. Annie could be that happy - what with the help of her new voice and all. If the shoe fits...

Heading towards the dusty mirror, she grabbed a pair of scissors off the table. Tucking the card into the broken part of the frame and holding the smoke between her lips, Annie took a chunk of hair between her horizontal fingers and snipped.

Leaning on Jeannie-Mae's desk the next day, Annie was convincing the woman to lend her some rouge and eyeliner. The conversation had started when Annie had burst in, a little upset, wondering if her new hair cut had made her uglier.

Jeannie seemed hesitant, but soon caved. While the woman was out of the room, heading towards her small house on the edge of town, the courier suddenly noticed how alone she was. Out of everyone Annie had spoken to, Jeannie-Mae seemed the least concerned about Carla.

A woman of Jeannie's helpful nature didn't fit right with her story, and that made Annie curious as to what she was hiding. The girl thought for a brief moment and tried to remember just how far away Jeannie lived. She gave it three beats before she lunged into action, just in case the receptionist needed to return. Fluttering across the room, she locked the door. She checked the desk and terminal first, finding nothing but bitter old notes left by an obviously bitter old woman. Voices chimed outside and she froze, but her luck kept running - the woman not appearing as soon as she thought she would. Annie took a breath, heading for the floor safe warily.

Pulling a bobby pin out of her hair, she made quick work of the lock (a skill she never really knew she had until the thought crossed her mind). The safe was filled with a small amount of caps and other odds and ends. More importantly, the safe had a note. Scanning her tired eyes over it, Annie struggled to read the first few lines. Holding the paper closer to her face, her nose brushing the paper as her brown gaze stuck to each word like wonderglue.

Then she felt a shudder of terror grab her when the words finally made sense, throat seizing in shame. Her reflexes quickly folded the paper and placed it back in there, slamming the safe shut and backing away towards the main door. Turning the lock back towards open, Annie had to stop and think and compose herself before she burst out into the courtyard like a lunatic.

Jeannie-Mae had sold Carla to the Legion, along with her unborn child, for caps. Annie felt sick, and the woman that she thought she was turned out to be a little less brave than she had originally guessed. Maybe it wasn't so easy just to decide a woman's fate, just like that? Jeannie-Mae was going to die that night. Annie had no reason to be so hesitant, but wasn't this the first person she would be killing during this new life?

The door opened and Annie jumped, realizing that she had to play it cool to avoid being caught.

"Thank you very much." She beamed suddenly, heading towards the older woman to take the little tubs and pencils from her hands. "It means a lot to me. A girl like me doesn't have enough confidence with a face like this."

"You're a very lovely girl." The woman clucked her tongue, speaking sweetly. All Annie could hear was the stickiness of her vowels. "I'm sure you'll find a nice man in no time."

"That's very sweet of you." She cooed. "After everything I've been through, all I want to do is settle down and start a family. Maybe this will help me along, huh?"

"Children are a blessing in this place." Jeannie returned to her chair. "It's nice to see a young woman so humble."

Annie let out a genuine laugh, letting her eyes fall on the woman once more before turning to the door. "If that's what you want to call it." She huffed. "Thanks again! I'll have to come show you what I look like all dolled up!"

"That'd be lovely, dear." Jeannie's eyes were warm.

Heading to her room, she heard Boone's door open. She hoped he would find comfort in the impending situation, because she knew that she would. Being able to get out of Novac would be a good thing. The tantalizing bed she had fallen in love with was starting to show its springs.

That, and the faster she got to Boulder City, the faster she would have her hands down the throat of the man that shot her first.

Jeannie-Mae was walking as fast as she could, trying to get her short legs to match the strides of the younger girl. She had been told that the giant thermometer held by the dinosaur was hanging on by a thread, possibly dangerous if it were to break and fall on someone.

Annie was walking with a slight skip in her step, flying high on the adrenalin that came from convincing Jeannie to walk to her death. She was reveling in how easy it was to get the old woman from her post for the second time that day. Either she was stupid, or just naïve.

Reaching the spot underneath the dinosaur, Annie pulled the beret from her pocket and turned it in her hands, teeth clipping together in excitement. Jeannie was too busy looking up at the thermometer to notice.

"So what's your stance on karma, Jeannie? Do you think it exists?" Annie asked to the woman like a child, causing her to turn around. The woman's eyes fell on the courier who had just finished pulling the beret over the tip of her head. Jeannie's eyes, first filled with confusion, widened in fear.

Before Annie could even adjust her stupid hat, the older woman opened her mouth to speak - rudely interrupted by the explosion of her skull.

The splash of blood and bits of bone hit the courier with a splat, the wet feeling familiar and almost comforting. Wiping her eyes clean, she slicked the blood from her hard with a flick of her wrist, hearing the slap of the blood hitting concrete. Looking up at the dinosaur and seeing the glint of Boone's scope under the moonlight, Annie blew a kiss.