Hey hey, second time uploading this. For some reason my trackpads gone all goofy and is clicking and dragging and moving for no reason so welcome to my own personal hell.
This chapter was a little harder to write than necessary so please excuse the parts where you can see I'm going brain-dead aheh.
Fool for You - Duffy
Any comments or questions or reviews or even unhappy campers are welcome in the review section. Tell me what to do and what I'm doing wrong because seriously, if I get anymore writers block on this story I'll probably sink in the bath.
Annie was slumped in a rotting plastic chair, bent over her sledge like a wobbly guard rail. The sky that leaked in through the rips and tears in the worn tent flashed occasionally, suffering a sad case of stormy blues. Julie Farkas (a very dedicated fan of Annie's) had her clipboard poised over a member of the Kings, taking in the symptoms of food poisoning.
"Jacobstown?" The courier wanted to cry. Jacobstown was a big walk out of the way from where they needed to be going - also at a 30% incline towards the freaking snowy mountains. Radio New Vegas also told her that it was overrun with super mutants - and friendly or not, that thought was still terrifying.
It was like someone had tightened a leash around her neck, the courier slowly suffocating under the piles and piles of problems she had taken into her lap. The Strip was her base, the point of everything she had ever salvaged and saved for. Every time she watched her partner place his stuff into 'his' cupboard in 'our home' it just reiterated the fact that they were stuck there until something got done about it. Home wasn't in a shitty, musty old casino – it was out in the dirt and dust with the rest of the poor fuckers slumming it in the wastes.
Between all of Boone's problems (still something he didn't want to talk about), the extra three lives to worry about each day and the shivering tower of social issues that the Mojave was happily stacking, Annie's mind told her it would have just been easier to accidentally get in the way of Boone's line of fire.
Rex was curled at the sniper's feet, sighing heavily like all old dogs do, waiting to do something before he fell asleep. The hybrid had taken a liking to Boone, preferring the man's cool demeanor over Annie's jumpy one. She felt it sensed her uneasiness, giving her as much space as she needed like a true gentleman. She gave him pats every so often for that reason.
"I tried telling The King, but he just ended up flattening Wallace." Farkas sniffed, pulling the clipboard to her chest to peer at the dog's sickly looking brain. "The man's an inferno when it comes to his possessions. I'm surprised he let you take him."
"I think he just wants him to get better. Or at least know there's a chance he will." Annie stated grimly, staring at the pink tongue that was heaving as the beast panted away the muggy air. "Alright then, Boone, change of plans. We'll have a quick chat with Veronica, and then we'll get this dog a new head."
"Do you think it's going to be that easy?" He asked, standing up to give Julie Farkas a sturdy handshake. The woman brightened at his friendly behaviour, ever thankful for the presence of the two.
"Is anything ever that easy?" The courier said flatly, scratching the ugly welt on her forehead. "Seeya Farkas. Thanks for the help. I'll try and bring some stuff back for you this time, alright?"
"Any help is always appreciated, Annie!" The Follower beamed at her.
The two exited the tent, heading towards the big wooden doors with heavy hearts for separate reasons. The sniper was keen on finding out why Annie wanted to 'talk' to the scribe, but knew that if the courier got any strong ideas in her head about saying something stupid she would just go along and do it. Breaking through the doors with a strong push, the two burst into the musty streets of Freeside - greeted by the shadowed slums and unhappy faces of the poor.
The sky rumbled in the distance, sun still peeking out from behind a couple of clouds but struggling to light up the morning. A thick black paste was heading towards them from the south, the foggy haze of rain dimming the void beyond the town walls.
"Chat with Veronica?" He asked, eyes flicking to the dirty looking gang of thugs hanging outside a crumbling building. The courier frowned at her hands, curling and uncurling her fingers as she thought it over.
"Gotta talk to her about what House wants me to do."
"And you think that's a good idea?"
"Got any other plans?"
"She'll tell you that you're stupid."
She frowned at him, clicking her eyes to his for a split second before focusing on the small group of people heading towards them. She pulled her sledge from her back awkwardly, rolling it in the palms of her hand as her partner snapped into action. He shot her a final look.
"All mine."
The three men became two quite quickly, the crack of the rifle echoing in and out of ragged buildings as the body hit the pavement with a happy thwap. The two thugs remaining looked at their friend, and then to Boone, frozen in their meandering postures like mediocre statues on the harsh streets of Freeside. They didn't take a second look, turning on their heels to head in the other direction. Sometimes Freeside inherited a few more thugs - newbies that still thought it appropriate to shoot at the courier and her sharp-eyed sniper. They always learnt their lesson quickly.
"Maybe I am stupid." Annie huffed, watching the men retreat until she could safely place her weapon in its straps. "Maybe she will understand that her sacrifice will make it a little easier for my future."
"Maybe that's selfish." Boone said curtly, almost considered a snap if squinting. Her eyes narrowed at his words.
"Maybe I am selfish." The courier shot her words back unhappily, folding her arms across her chest mid-tantrum. He recognised the warning signs of an Annie meltdown (tiny eyes and pouted lips, cheeks all puffed out like a frumpy old woman) and he backed right up. Every so often when the girl had thought too deeply, she would retreat into a small-brained dither - often stalking off into some morbid situation that would leave her returning with an adrenalin rush and a lady-boner over the poor sniper.
They were only just starting to get along, too. Annie had been at peace with herself for a few days, recognising and voicing her feelings for him and all… That was a little too weird for him to deal with at the moment, still coming to terms with his ragged mortality and all his little tricks to get away from it. But although the thought bothered and prodded the dark spaces of his brain, he felt that her second offer (classier than her first by a long shot) had brought them closer. Well, him to her, anyway.
Annie occasionally showed him her more civil side, found buried deep in hushed pillow talk when she was sloshed or just upset. It was different to when he first found the smart-mouthed shit head pooling over him in the mouth of a dinosaur, doe-eyed and making promises she really didn't keep… Now he had seen her for too long, knowing full well her habits and prerogatives better than he knew his own. If she wasn't pawing at his chest like a breathless woman she was a grumbling old man, complaining about her current life choices and wanting to be 'her own person'.
"You're not stupid." The man held his rifle in his arms, ready for the young men to attempt a second sneak attack. They usually did. "And you're not selfish."
Her frown faltered.
"I'm not saying that you should concern Veronica with your problem." He added. "But you're not selfish. You haven't given up yet."
"But I want to." Her voice was shaky, throwing her hands together to grind the knuckles into one.
"But you haven't." He said firmly, posing threat to all other nominees of the most rousing speech award. Inspirational didn't suit Boone. Lethargic about life suited Boone. The words didn't fit the mouth that was so used to dull conversations and bad memories, angry threats and irritated sighs. Despite his better judgement, he frowned at himself. "Why?" He meant it more of an easy question than a curious one. Only the great big man in the sky knows why it came out like that.
"Because… everyone else… deserves a good chance at life." She answered slowly, looking up at him with widening eyes. There was a loud cry ("Hey, you!") from behind them, a previous assailant running full speed with a rusted kitchen knife – scaring the two children chasing after the giant rat that Rex was also happily pursuing. Boone swept around with supreme accuracy and took the man down with a shot to the chest, only turning back to her when he heard the thug stop breathing.
"Sounds like you know what you're doing." He added dryly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, earning him a tired look from the girl.
"Sweet mother Boone, what would I do without you?" She sniffed, grinning all the same. There was a flash in her eyes over the limp apathy, a flicker of the bright flame that was her unstoppable confidence.
"You'd be dead."
The courier laughed a little, pushing her fingers against the others in thought, grinding her knuckles together in attempt to feel the bites of pain from pinched tendons.
"Don't get cocky, Boone," she spoke after a while, shoving her hands in her pockets awkwardly as they headed further away from the storm brewing in the distance. "without me, you'd probably be dead too."
He thought about it for a moment.
"Probably."
"And you're telling me this, why?"
Veronica was floored in the tacky Wrangler room, spread lazily on the bed as Annie sat between her legs in a flurry of panic. Throbbing with some sort of adrenalized guilt, the courier poured over the scribe in a fit of shame. Boone was against the door like a shady bouncer, watching the two women titter over each other in his old bed. At least he wasn't the only one Annie harassed on those sheets… The thought made him uncomfortable.
"No, no, no, I'm not going to. I don't want to." Annie shook her head with childlike vigour as Boone shifted in his spot. Veronica's hands clamped onto the girl's shoulders, the courier able to feel the press and release of the other woman's powerfist. She'd have taken it off sooner if the black-haired bimbo hadn't forced her onto the bed, mumbling about explosions and her Brotherhood legacy.
"Stop." The scribe said sternly. "You're being stupid."
Boone was right again, watching as the courier's mouth fell open when she tried to force words out. He knew exactly how Veronica would take Annie's stupid ideas, but the silly woman went along with it anyway. He had forgotten to take into account that when in self-discovery mode, people tended to follow their heart and not their head. Annie had been stuck in self-discovery mode since he met her.
"What do you want me to say, Annie?" The girl started again, slowly pushing the older woman off of her. "'Please, don't blow up my home'?"
"Yes." Annie spat happily. "Please say that. Give me a reason to not go there and kill all your peers." She grabbed the scribe's shoulders, the two in a weird stronghold. They did it with a sick ease that told Boone they had done it before. "Tell me what to do here because I am far too fucking confused and can't do this alone."
The scribe's eyes softened behind the hang of her hood, chewing her lip as she stared across at the wide-eyed woman.
"Don't do it, Annie. Don't kill a whole bunker of innocent people for an old man who treats you like a slave."
The room froze in silence for a moment, giving them time to hear the soft patter of rain on the rickety old roof. Boone watched Annie's eyes fill with something like gratitude, like Veronica had lifted a sudden weight from her small shoulders with three simple words. Don't do it. In three words, Veronica had done what Boone had tried to do for all those months.
"Thank you. That is what I needed to hear." Annie nodded, removing a hand to hold Veronica's cheek like a silver screen hero. "I won't let you down, I promise."
The scribe shook her head. "I'll hold you to that." Shifting in her place, Veronica looked up at Boone with a knowing smile. The man caught her idea, nodding back to her – like parents agreeing on their sleeping child's beauty. "Now, Annie, I appreciate your affection but can you get off my legs?"
Annie killed House when Boone wasn't ready.
He thought he had heard the elevator ding a few minutes beforehand, but he had that figured as Cass heading back in from the Wrangler (the caravaneer was restless). Usually she just stumbled back into her room, falling face first into the bed she shared with Veronica after being out all night on the booze.
He should have found it odd when he realised he couldn't hear Annie's chatter. Boone could generally gauge where she was in the house and how twisted her face looked while doing whatever she was doing – probably either sparring word plays with Raul or complaining about the lack of fresh food in the fridge. He dismissed it as a stress nap on the couch.
But when the lights flickered… he knew something was wrong. Power never faulted in the Lucky 38.
Annie's pipboy lay abandoned on their nightstand, suddenly blinking with a received message. His eyes shifted to the buffed cylinder, lips pulling into a grim line. She'd gone and done the opposite of what he had expected her to do. It was becoming more irritating than anything…
Veronica was the first person who came to him, leaning in the doorway with a frown on her face.
"You see that?"
"Yeah." He replied, stretching to stand up. Following her into the lobby of the suite, they were greeted with the elevator doors being pried open by thin fingers. Boone and Veronica watched as a panting Annie, spattered with a tiny bit of dried blood and what appeared to be cryogenic dust, lurched out of the little red box.
"You!" She pointed at Veronica. "In. Now." Curling her fingers in a hurry, the courier urged the scribe into the lift. "You!" She pointed at Boone. "I will be back." She jammed her fingers into the buttons, the silver doors shutting around them as the gears whirred into life.
Raul was the only one to peek his head out from behind a door, stepping into full view when he found Boone with a stern face staring blankly at the metal doors.
"I think boss needs a nap." The ghoul headed towards the kitchen, breezing past him casually. "Keeps on going like this and her pretty little head is going to explode." He wandered off into the large room, the sucking sound of the fridge's seals smacking loudly. "Beer?" Raul called.
Boone stared unhappily at the lift. "Yeah."
They pulled up two dining chairs in front of the lift, sitting there with a six pack and an ashtray as the glowing white numbers ran down. All was quiet bar the softly goading radio singing some twangy tune – dialled to Annie's favourite station that purely consisted of sad country music.
They sat quiet for a couple of minutes, Boone lighting a cigarette in habit to calm the jittered nerves that were screaming for an explanation from the mouth of Annie. Why hadn't she taken him with her? Why hadn't she told him what she was doing? Why didn't he read a little more deeply like he usually did? The numbers above the lift had started back towards their floor.
"The wastes love her is what I'm hearing." The old man spoke suddenly, holding his beer towards the lift to signify the woman who had left. "You see that she fixed up Primm and saved Goodsprings from some convicts? Nipton she was a little too late to but I think she got the message."
The doors ding'd open, showing Cass swinging on her legs as she leant against the polished handrail.
"Hello boys," she said bashfully "waiting for me?"
"I don't think my old body could handle you, chica." Raul drawled happily and the caravaneer grinned, staggering past them towards the bedroom.
"What about you, soldier?" She brushed his shoulder on her way past, leaving the warm scent of a woman lingering around him. He sighed. "I suppose you've got your nose too far up Six's skirt to give little old me a try." She guffawed to herself, kicking off her boots and abandoning her caps purse on a bookshelf. Was there a note taped to his face that read 'please step on me, ladies'? Women like Cass and Annie, with their sharp tongues and delicious smiles, always lead to trouble.
She grabbed a stashed bottle of whiskey and dragged a desk chair between them. Lazily, she fell back into the seat and cracked the foil top, offering it to the ghoul first.
"The girl can swing a sledge." Raul commented over a sip of the strong liquid. Boone looked over at him, arms folded on his chest in attempt to hide whatever was triggering Raul into playing the permissive father figure. He'd fallen victim to that once before – Old Ben – Annie's mouth and his fingers and her shallow breaths and happy eyes, glowing with something stupid like pride after she had so easily made him-… he shut his eyes.
"Who? Annie?" Cass piped up, nudging the sniper as she shifted in her seat to get extra comfy. She kicked her socks one over the other, taking the bottle from Raul to have her own sip. Sculled it like water. "She's uh-" Cass wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "-she's a tough bitch. Got a nose magnet in her fists, I swear to fucking god." She handed him the bottle. "Why are we talkin' about Annie?"
"I was just telling my friend here that boss needs a bit of R&R." Raul replied. The redhead nodded, shrugging for a second before slumping in her chair.
"I think you've got the right idea, old man." She spoke, shutting her eyes quietly as Boone took a swig of the liquor, sitting peacefully in silence with the other two – Cass tipping her hat to cover her face in her own nap, the ghoul sitting pretty as he sized up the awkward plastic plants in the lobby.
Ten minutes passed and the light above the elevator lit up, swinging down to the casino lobby with boring little jumps. There was a pause and the lights flickered into business once again, skimming straight past their floor to the very top – House's suite. Boone felt something swimming in his stomach (probably the noodle and whiskey combination), dumping a whole bag of salt on the idea by busying himself with the label of the fresh-brewed beer from the vats in the casino's basement.
Veronica and Annie were cramped up at the super computer, surrounded by blank-faced securitrons that whirred in confusion at every signal missed. Empty shells of beings, wheeling around without a strong purpose. Even the ones on the Strip had gone somewhat goofy, only urging Annie to walk faster and with purpose to the Tops Casino. With a shaky pistol escort through the lobby of the shocked chairmen, she blew Swank a kiss as she wheeled the securitron through the door.
"Thanks, honey!" She called; eyes alight with weird glossy purpose. The chairman could only cautiously.
Veronica wasn't as fine-tuned as Boone was to Annie, but she knew that her friend was verging on a great brain crash. With the constant strain of the past few weeks (Boone's disappearance and problems, three new mouths to feed and the towering stack of problems that the Mojave accumulated like age-old hoarders, etcetera…) Annie seemed to be wobbling under the pressure. The courier had told Veronica all she could about herself, the scribe more than interested in the inner workings of the allusive Renegade of the Wastes. Veronica understood Annie in the way that she needed a little guidance now and then – and even though Veronica never thought herself a leader she knew it was her duty to lend a helping hand.
"Thank you for plugging me in!" Yes Man was beaming on the big screen. "Now we can get straight to business! Have you talked to all the tribes in the area, yet?"
Annie slumped on the control panel, thanking Veronica quietly for her help with the technology side of things. The scribe was happy to help, crouched over Yes Man's abandoned body that lay like a dropped bowl of noodles on the floor.
"No, not yet. Hold up on that for a while." The girl waved the robot away redundantly, stretching her back as she gripped the useless dials and buttons on the control pad. "Alright, first order of business, Yes Man!"
"Yes Ma'am!"
"I want this casino locked from the inside for only tonight, please." Rubbing her eyes, the girl pushed away from the bench to head towards the door to House's previous chamber. "People can leave, but that can't get back in. If you can do that."
"Of course I can." The computer brayed happily.
"Thank you, Yes Man. Nothing's to change with the Strip for now, so no extra robots or anything. I don't even want the streetlights a little brighter." Veronica watched the girl as she paced in front of the screen, arms crossed over her chest with one finger in her mouth as she thought of all the things she could do. "Keep it normal." She went to look at her pipboy and huffed, realising she had left the damn thing back on the nightstand.
With the swing of a ponytail, Annie corked back into her paces, rubbing her chin with a dirty palm.
"And can you find out how long it will take to open this casino again?"
"My, with these new resources I can have this casino up and running for you by tomorrow night!"
"That's far too soon." Annie winced. "Don't do that. That's a future plan. Yes Man?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"What's the time?"
"Three twenty-eight."
"Will it rain tonight?"
"I do not have the resources to predict the weather." The computer answered, still bright and always creepily cheerful. "Nor do I have fleshy meat eyes to look out of the window. But, the temperature outside-" (It flashed on the screen) "-is telling me if it were to rain anywhere tonight it will be here."
Annie let out a snort, chewing her lips like a bad habit.
"Veronica?" She asked, catching the brunette's attention as the courier continued staring uncomfortably up at the beaming face. "Would it let you down if I went and had a sleep?"
"Sleeping isn't a crime to me or my people." She grinned back. Annie nodded, patting the keyboard as a short-sighted attempt at robot courtesy.
"In that case, I'm going to go to bed for a while. We'll head to Jacobstown tomorrow. Can't walk in this weather anyway." Stretching up and yawning, Annie led the girl to the elevator. It felt as if someone had thrown her in the lake with all her clothes on, physically weighed down by whatever sleep had avoided her for the past few weeks.
The elevator mirrors held the back of her head as she slumped against them, one leg crossed over the other. The roof was stained with an awkward brown, decades old and probably a very horrifying story in it's own time… Annie couldn't even keep a straight thought, the weird weightless feeling of the lift giving her a bit of a stomach-ache.
Back to bed, then to Jacobstown, then come back and sort out this Strip, and then go back out and fix up the wasteland and possibly attempt to convince the population to follow her way (the affiliation to faction choices were endless) and then somehow force back the Legion and NCR without getting half the population killed... Those were her goals for the near future.
The doors unsealed with a cheery bell, opening to find three very bored companions gathered in the suite's lobby. It took no time for the courier and the scribe to swing into action, Veronica gathering Cass up and sending her towards the beds. Annie unzipped her dress the moment she silently stepped out, pulling the shitty material over her head before lunging towards her bedroom.
"Big day, boss?" Raul stood up and claimed his chair, already on his way to the dining room. Boone joined him, beer in one hand and chair in the other – watching the scarred skin of Annie's back sway off towards the closed door.
"Only the biggest." She turned and smiled, twisting the doorknob. "I'm going to bed for a few hours. I don't like the look of the weather at the moment – Jacobstown is called off until tomorrow morning. We walk rain or shine, Boone." She cocked her finger at him before slipping off behind the closed door. He could hear her talking to herself, barely muffled by the casino's thin walls. "Wasted enough fucking time already…"
Boone found her a few minutes later, sleeping funeral style with her hands curled onto her stomach. She looked uncomfortable, not in her usual spread-around-the-bed style – like she had simply lain down and passed away. The idea creeped him out more than it should have, ending up going against all his mind's wishes and rolling her onto her side. Her body flopped like a dead Brahmin, his hands pushing the bend of her knee to stop her from rolling over and smothering herself.
He tucked her pillow under her head and her arms, leaning back uncomfortably to survey his work. No, nothing had changed – he still felt just as odd doing that as when he first touched her. He wished for the day he could climb in right behind her and hold her like he did his wife those few years ago…
Even his own thoughts made him feel sick.
Annie's skin felt like fire under him for no good reason; a warning sign telling him to back straight off. No good could come from it, and getting too involved with Annie would be like pressing his hand down on a lit stove.
Scolding himself for feeling anything other than regret, he turned to leave only to find his boot stuck to the carpet. He wished for an ounce of peace - the feeling he felt when he cleaned out that Legion camp – the quiet in his brain that allowed him to make rational decisions without the ache of guilt… now it was starting to roar again, crushing his ears with a crinkling white noise that focused in on children falling and his wife's tears.
He realised he preferred the burning skin to a screaming brain, turning his neck to take one last look at the woman who had caused more storms in his head than natural weather had caused for the Mojave in an entire year. She had curled around her pillow, looking more and more like her usual self with each sweet inhale and exhale that brushed the white sheets...
With abandoned shoes and the squeak of a mattress, he was soon beside her – half up and getting comfortable enough to think to himself as she slept. Annie must have sensed him, her hand creeping over to run her fingers across his knee, falling sleepily in their place as she drifted back off into deeper dreams.
His fingers twitched to hers, stealing the tips into his own palm. She goose bumped his skin but it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, his gut telling him to stay as close as he possibly could without hurting himself. His thumb brushed her knuckles and he frowned, spare hand pushing up his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Fate had a funny way of teasing him - dangling a younger, prettier and more-than-enthusiastic-about-him girl under his nose each time he thought things were getting better- but still managing to have the balls to yank him back when he was just about to reach out. First Carla (the woman he had destroyed with his own hands) and now Annie - tired little Annie with the shiny eyes he hated but sort of really liked at the same time...
He had learnt his lesson the first time around... At least he thought he did. Carla, who was physically nothing more than a wallet photo of their Vegas wedding and a note signed with his name, embodied everything good in his world. Everything good was dead. And Annie wasn't good for him - not really, no. He didn't need the extra stress of another woman on his mind, at home alone with him far away doing god knows what to god knows how many innocent civilians... But in saying that, Annie wouldn't put up with the shit Carla had to deal with - no, not ever - Annie would tell him to fuck off before she loved him like Carla did. Annie didn't like him for his personality, he thought that for sure.
Head against the backboard, he stared lazily up at the roof as the soft drumming of rain swept over the tower, the distance echoing with a slap of thunder. The courier's favourite song jingle-jangled on the radio and Raul, Cass and Veronica were laughing loudly about something in the other room. He thought about joining them, still buzzed from the elevator waiting, but lazy in the way that he didn't see a reason to leave Annie alone while the sky crackled around them.
So the sniper sat alone, tracing her chewed fingernails as he tried to remember something his father used to say.