woops where did i go? (no one knows)
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Trapped to the confines of a ragged bed, Annie was tucked up maturely with a book and a set of Arcade's spare glasses. It was early in the morning and Boone had still not found her, the courier only assuming the worst but really not minding. If he had left her in a fit of cabin fever, she would have understood. It wasn't like she had started to depend on his company or whatever… he was free to leave at anytime…
She pressed the glasses up the bridge of her nose and huffed.
Julie Farkas thought Annie was the luckiest girl in the world – surviving a bullet to the brain and then a supposedly fatal stab wound to the stomach. Benny's knife had missed every vital organ, slipping between two rows of small intestine like meat between bread. Julie Farkas wanted someone to write a book about that.
Annie's vision had supremely updated itself with the help of the blonde doctor's glasses. It was like a whole new world had appeared in front of her eyes, her hands no longer fuzzy and ridiculous. She'd thought that normal though, turns out it wasn't. Now she could read a book without having to squint herself to a headache, of which she was doing for a good hour before the man took pity on her.
"How could you not know you needed some sort of glasses?" He had huffed at her, not too impressed with her lack of self-preservation.
"I dunno, I probably used to wear them…" He was far too sassy for her to handle with a sick stomach. He found her so amusing; a miracle of science but a full loss of education. "I got shot in the head remember? Because I don't."
Boone had already checked the Tops casino, standing stoically at the front counter until someone grew the nerves to serve him. Swank, who was slightly irritated by the negative force swirling in his lobby, told him that the girl that was wrapped up in a chequered jacket had simply waltzed out with a wave goodbye, not even bothering to look him in the eye. And when he had checked Benny's suite later that night, the Chairman found his boss glassy-eyed in a pool of his own blood. He didn't tell the sniper that, though.
Feet tucked into the rungs of a bar stool, Boone was back at the Wrangler, searching for leads on his missing companion. No one had seen or heard a thing about the missing courier, the man slowly coming to terms with the idea that she had left him. Contemplating drinking, he cursed himself and forced himself to stand up. He flipped a couple of caps in Francine's direction, heading towards the door.
It burst open before he could reach the handle, suddenly chest to chest with a jovial king. Pacer was just wanting a bit of absinthe to take the edge off the morning. Besides, he had the caps for it now – the broken courier spoiling him with almost bountiful riches. Falling into each other's personal space, the men awkwardly stepped back two paces.
"Don't want no trouble today, man." Pacer had his arms up, backing away to the bar. With a grin on his face, he turned to Boone's abandoned seat only to realise that that was the man the Followers were looking for. Whipping back around, he clicked his fingers at the exit. "Hey, buddy, you searchin' for your woman?"
Boone stopped, foot halfway out the door. The term 'woman' was not to be handled with such humour, his eyes subconsciously evening at the jittery soul. He nodded all the same, waiting for the taller, skinnier man to say something.
"She's at the Followers' fort." He snapped his fingers into guns, turning back to the seat so he could run his hand through his hair. Happy as a clam, Pacer slapped the caps down on the bar; so hard that he didn't even hear the door slam closed; bouncing in the hinges to scuttle to place. It was about time that 'The King' (the main man upstairs, the real thing) gave him a pat on the back instead of a kick up the ass.
Julie Farkas caught Boone on the outskirts of the fort, her stern voice breaching annoyed that he hadn't come sooner. He didn't know, to his defence, he had even went to bed early that night knowing she'd come home. She said she had a fantastic plan, and that it was 100% guaranteed to work! … He definitely should have known better.
He was lead to her bedside, the fort brimming with life around him but his heart expecting the worst. Farkas didn't say anything to him on the way there, her wrist flicking over a chart with a lead pencil, only trying to reinstate the idea of Annie's demise by his lack of consideration.
It was only when he was bedside did he realise that Annie was no closer to death than he was. He could hope for it with all his heart, but they both still managed to wake up in the morning no harm no foul. His eyes rolled tiredly beneath the shades.
There she was, as right as rain, curled up with a book and wearing… what was it? Reading glasses? There was nothing sophisticated about that woman, especially when she looked like someone had slapped make up on a lakelurk.
"What happened?" He asked her glumly when he sat down on the musty chair beside her bed.
"Benny stabbed me." Her eyes brightened at his company, dog-earing the page and placing it down in her lap. "He's gone, though. Stabbed him back, twice as hard." A grin found her face, though it wasn't as enthusiastic as it usually was. Annie caught his brow twitch, pulling the glasses off from behind her ears.
Rubbing the black sockets, she tugged the blanket down to show him her bare stomach. "Julie patched me up real nice. Apparently the knife missed all the good stuff, so I should be back on my feet in no time."
"No heavy lifting!" Julie piped from outside the tent. "Just because it missed all the 'good stuff', doesn't mean you didn't damage your abdominal muscles."
"Hm." Boone had his thumb under his chin, fingers resting on his lips. "So your plan didn't go to plan?"
"No, not really." She frowned, staring at her bandaged hands only to have her eyes back to his after only a few seconds. "But he's good as gone, I'll tell you that. I would have liked to have looked around his place but I didn't think I'd last long with that damn knife in me so I came here instead." Her chest heaved wearily. Regardless of her pep, Boone could see she wasn't fully ripe yet. "Thanks for finding me though."
"It's alright." He watched her quietly while she shifted her feet out of the bed. She began to pull on her dress, softly handling it over the bandages. Rubbing the remnants of lipstick free from her mouth in the reflection of a clock, she bent herself slightly over to pick up Benny's jacket.
She gave it to Boone to fold, the older man emptying its pockets before squaring it over his arm. He tucked the poker chip into his pocket, waiting until Annie finished changing until he handed her the gun.
"Is this yours now?"
"I… I don't really want it." She took the nose of the gun, rolling it in her palms. "I think I only grabbed it for a keepsake but now that I'm looking at it it just makes me feel ill." She pressed it back to him with a look of aversion on her face.
"Would you want to sell the keepsake you killed a man for?" He asked, folding the gun between his hands. Annie looked at him, irritated, stubbing her pointy shoes past her bruised toes.
"Not that it's any of your business, Boone, but I would really prefer to not think about nearly getting split pout to pussy right now. Can we just go back to the casino? I want a bath and then I want to go look around Benny's room… He might have some information on who I am." Her hands cradled her purse, eyes semi-bright and still glazed from the stimpaks.
He tucked the gun into his pocket, the tiniest twitch springing to his eye as she punched his arm with the strength of a bighorner. Leaving Arcade's glasses on the bed, Annie beckoned Boone out into the morning sun.
"Thank you for finally figuring out where I was. Was beginning to wonder where you had gone." Annie turned on her heel to walk backwards in front of him through the fort. Her stomach didn't hurt too much – she was more worried about the jutting streets of Freeside jiggling her stitches.
"Figured you'd left." He muttered back in his gravel voice, hands in the pockets of his cotton pants. Her brow rose, a smile pulling onto her face.
"There's no easy way to say this, sweetheart, but I don't think I'll be leaving you for a long time." They reached the large wooden gate, Annie's back pressing against the warm timber. He waited in front of her, feeling slightly better after realising that she hadn't skipped town on him. "I'm sorry about that, by the way." The door groaned open, Annie ushering him out with a hand on his lower back. "But that's your fault for sticking with me."