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Five times prompt!
Date: 2012-06-13 01:03 pm (UTC)Some clarification for fandom new kids
Date: 2012-06-13 11:45 pm (UTC)If you're still confused, Google "five times fanfiction" for some examples. :)
Re: Some clarification for fandom new kids
Date: 2012-06-13 11:50 pm (UTC)Re: Some clarification for fandom new kids
Date: 2012-06-14 12:03 am (UTC)Five Times the World Opened Up 1a/5
Date: 2012-07-17 12:50 am (UTC)Summary: Five times people from other worlds slipped through time and space to land in the Mojave. (Or: a fic into which I dump all my poorly thought out crossover ideas.)
Kinks: Crossover, crack. Possibly some romance, but nothing explicit.
Part One: You Can't Take the Wastes from Me
"There's some cranial trauma" the strange doctor said to Arcade, "and I don't expect the Followers to be able to fix it overnight. All I'm asking is the use of some equipment so I can better understand what she's going through."
Arcade didn't want to say no to him, but the fact was that the Followers were strapped for supplies and everybody knew it. Maybe he should have been grateful that the doctor hadn't just looted the place with his shady looking friends. No shadier than Boone, Cass and the Courier, he supposed.
It was hard to say exactly what was wrong with the girl, at least when she wouldn't let Arcade examine her. She'd rather stay huddled in the corner of the tent playing with her stringy hair, mumbling to herself about geckos. Frankly, he wasn't sure there was anything that could be done to help- it was extremely unlikely that schizophrenia could come on as suddenly as the strange doctor claimed, and when it came to brain surgery he'd probably be better off asking for intelligence implants than for Arcade to provide clean and advanced tools.
Still, it wasn't often that handsome, educated bachelors wandered his way, and Arcade wasn't keen to turn this one away.
"Well, Doctor Tam, you probably know what it's like to try administering care in less than ideal conditions. I wouldn't be surprised if she was under psychological trauma in addition to anything physical, in which case you'd need a different kind of doctor. The Followers may be the best place for health care in the Mojave, but, well, bonitas non est pessimis esse meliorem." Simon Tam seemed like a safe bet to use Latin on- if he'd been to medical school, he knew it could be used for more than just warmongering.
Unfortunately, the crazy sister hadn't been to medical school. In the same minute, three things happened- Arcade finished his sentence, ED-E floated into the tent, and said crazy sister opened her eyes and started to scream. Even that could have been handled, if she hadn't brought her horribly sharp nails up and gone for Arcade's throat.
There was the sound of hurried footsteps outside the tent- someone had heard the screams. Oh god, thought Arcade, if she doesn't murder me first, that awful man in the ugly hat is going to. But no, Tam's shady entourage had said they were headed off to the casinos for the afternoon; instead it was Arcade's shady entourage who burst in with guns raised.
"It's alright!" Dr. Tam was shouting as he did his best to hold his flailing sister back. "I've got a sedative!"
"What the hell's wrong with her?" Boone demanded.
"I was trying to find that out when she tried to kill me!" The Tam girl was by now rendered unconscious in her brother's arms, but Boone and Cass didn't move their gun barrels from her direction.
Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 5/5
Date: 2013-03-25 04:53 am (UTC)He Loved President Eden
Civilization was overrated. Many people said that, but few had the firsthand experience to back it up. Likewise, few people asked Colin Moriarty where he’d gotten his accent. It could have been that they expected any story coming out of his mouth to be a lie, which wasn’t an unfounded assumption. If they had asked him, he probably would have lied.
The truth was that he had grown up in civilization, and given everything he had to escape it.
Listening to the radio, Moriarty always enjoyed Enclave broadcasts. One couldn’t help being a little nostalgic, even towards a place of nightmares. President Eden was an enjoyably powerless authority figure, with all of the comforting tones of his old leader and none of the muscle to back it up.
Good old Oceana, encompassing what used to be England and Ireland and god only knew what else. He’d been born into what passed for wealth back home, and it was that wealth that had bribed the Underground to put him on the ship across the sea. What they would find, no one knew- all they knew was that it was a land they were supposedly at war with, where the civilization they knew had long ago crumbled. That was appealing enough on its own.
The Capital Wasteland wasn’t that bad, and a slimy bastard like Moriarty could always find a niche to crawl into. Pimp, slave owner and saloon keeper- not exactly the high life, but life just the same. Here you didn’t have to worry about being arrested (being locked up by Lucas Simms hardly counted), or assassinated (provided you didn’t piss off anyone with money) or censored (if you had anything valuable to say in the first place.) It truly was the land of the free.
Still, sometimes he would put on Enclave radio just for the hell of it. Listening to President Eden’s voice was a bit like home away from home. In a way, it was good to know he was watching you.
Five Times the World Opened Up 1b/5
Date: 2012-07-17 12:51 am (UTC)"You spoke Latin. She didn't use to be like this- she was a sweet, smart girl until she was kidnapped." There was an edge of hysteria in his voice; Arcade was sure he'd had this conversation before, when his sister had attacked their companions.
"Kidnapped?"
"I should have told you. You said there was psychological trauma..." Simon avoided their eyes. "It's why I'm not settled down in the city. I paid all I had for mercenaries to get her back from the Legion, but she wasn't the same girl. She'll hear little things that remind her of- of what happened-"
Boone cut him off.
"You spoke Latin?" Arcade nearly shriveled under his glare. "I'd have tried to kill you too!" Cass had relaxed her grip on the shotgun and Boone nodded to Simon. "You're a good man, Tam."
So that explanation had worked on them. Fair enough- unlike Arcade, they had no reason to suspect it was a lie. Legionaries didn't cut open their slavegirls' heads, and they certainly couldn't have put one back together. Maybe River Tam really had been kidnapped, but it would have been by someone more scientifically minded, with more ambitious goals for her than being a concubine.
And when Arcade looked up at the little flying robot that had caused her to scream, he had a horrible feeling of who it was.
Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 1b/5
Date: 2012-07-17 02:44 pm (UTC)Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 1b/5
Date: 2012-07-17 09:19 pm (UTC)Five Times the World Opened Up 2a/5
Date: 2012-08-21 09:56 pm (UTC)"Moira," asked the Lone Wanderer one day as she handed the shopkeeper a Lakelurk egg, "do you ever see anybody following me? A guy in a long coat?"
"Is Jericho bothering you? You should start carrying tranquilizer guns! He's so excitable, he could do with a bit of cooling down time."
She shook her head.
"Not Jericho. Long coat, broad hat, like he's trying to keep himself covered up. Mysterious. Seen anyone like that?"
"Lucas Simms?"
The Lone Wanderer sighed. No one else seemed to notice the stranger who'd been tailing her since Arefu. She'd forget about him for long periods of time, and then bang!- he'd pop out of nowhere and kill a raider she was scrapping with. She wasn't ungrateful for the help, but it could be pretty damn unnerving. And just like that, he'd be gone again, only letting her get a glimpse of a pale, pale face and eyes as gold as...something made made out of gold. She wasn't sure what that would be these days.
One more mystery of the Capitol Wasteland. If her mysterious stranger was planning to kill, rape or enslave her he'd have done it already, before she'd gotten any good at firearms. If she was going to keep from being driven insane, she'd just have to think of him as the Murder Fairy, flying around giving vigilante protection to all the good little boys and girls. She'd heard of stranger things- the Puppet Man, for one.
As long as he wasn't watching her sleep. There was such a thing as being too creepy to be helpful.
***
"On the ground, bitch!" the slaver shouted.
Fat chance, asshole. The Lone Wanderer ducked his baseball bat, and fired her pistol at his face in a vain hope that she'd remembered to buy more than just minigun ammo at the last town. I'll travel light, she'd said, I can't lug this thing halfway across the desert without getting slowed down.
God damn it.
Before she could panic over her lack of ammunition, it became clear that she had a much larger issue at hand than one pack of stock-hungry slavers. Namely, that the Murder Fairy had once again popped out of nowhere to give her a heart attack.
"Don't do that!" she shouted, but he didn't react. Instead, he grabbed her about the waist and sped off, leaving the slavers behind in a cloud of dust.
By the time they’d stopped and she had caught her breath, the mysterious stranger had worked himself into a fury.
Five Times the World Opened Up 2b/5
Date: 2012-08-21 09:58 pm (UTC)“What am I thinking? What are you thinking? Who are you?” She took the chance to get a good look at her savior; nice cheekbones, nice hair, and an awfully familiar skin tone.
“I’ve seen you before, haven’t I? Aren’t you one of Vance’s family? A vampire?”
He spun round and faced her with an expression of the utmost torment.
“A monster! A killer! You don’t know what it’s like, to watch someone so strong and good and human walk into danger every day like you do. To feel protective of someone and never know what they’ll be facing, never even know what they’re thinking!”
“Usually something like ‘oh no, a big ugly molerat.”
“This isn’t funny!” The Lone Wanderer could have begged to differ, but it seemed rude to antagonize one’s rescuer, even if he had just confessed to watching her every day. Did he really mean that? Was she going to have to fire Wadsworth?
“It’s okay, calm down. You’re sweating like crazy.”
“I don’t sweat. This is the skin of a killer!”
The Lone Wanderer shook her head.
“No, that’s all wrinkled and dead looking. Ghouls don’t glisten in the sunlight, they just glow sometimes.”
He just shook his head in return.
“Don’t know what it’s like...following you...watching you from afar...I’ve tried to stop, but you always drag me back! Watching you sleep, the only time you seem to be at peace. You’re like my personal brand of Med-X! And to see you almost get killed over and over, and not even try to keep yourself safe. You must be stupid!”
The Lone Wanderer stammered for a minute, her head attempting to process several things at once. She was being insulted by the man who just saved her, and who was also a vampire. He was in love with her, or at least in some kind of lust-driven obsession. There was only so much she could handle at once, and so she said the first thing that came to mind.
“You’ve been watching me sleep?”
Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 2b/5
Date: 2012-08-22 03:16 pm (UTC)Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 2b/5
Date: 2012-08-23 12:45 am (UTC)Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 2b/5
Date: 2012-08-24 01:07 pm (UTC)Re: Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 2b/5
Date: 2012-08-24 11:33 pm (UTC)Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 3/5
Date: 2012-12-10 06:38 am (UTC)Part Three: Snipers Work in Pairs
She was only a kid. Now that he’d taken the time to look more closely, Boone regretted having ever involved the strange girl in his work. The wastes had a way of aging you fast, but still- if she were his daughter, he wouldn’t let her out of the house without a group of at least five chaperones. The Mojave was no place to be a pretty young thing, especially without a gun.
“What did you say your name was?”
“You didn’t ask. Katniss Everdeen.”
Weirdest fucking name Boone had ever heard.
“Is that Latin?”
“It’s a kind of flower.”
There wasn’t much else to say. Apparently, Katniss wasn’t any bigger on small talk than he was. Just as well, since talk only ruined ambushes. He’d been travelling with her several days now, ever since she’d helped him root out Jeannie, and he hadn’t even needed to call anything other than “kid.”
She talked plenty to other people, though. When they’d rescued a group of slaves from a Legion outpost, they’d fallen over themselves thanking her. Come to think of it, some of them had even called her a strange word that he now knew was her name. She seemed to be some kind of a slave celebrity, if such a thing existed.
It was from those conversations that he’d learned what little he knew about her. Eavesdropping had become a habit with him, ever since his own failed attempts at finding out who had betrayed his wife. His travelling companion seemed to have been a slave of some kind- a gladiator, it sounded like, though he wasn’t sure if there were female ones- who’d made a big flashy escape. There was a man she’d left behind, and when someone asked about a baby, Katniss had said the Soldiers stabbed her and caused a miscarriage. She didn’t look like she was too upset about it, but how the fuck could he tell?
Boone didn’t know what had possessed him to go over to her that night when they usually slept silently in separate cots. Neither of them could sleep this night, though, and he’d found her standing by the edge of a canyon looking at the stars.
Nor did Boone know what possessed him to ask his next question.
“What’s his name?”
She turned around to face him, and though he saw no tears on her face, there was a gleam in her eyes that suggested them.
“Peeta. We were going to get married.”
Her voice was low and tired, as if she’d said things a thousand times already in her head.
“He’s not a threat to them. They’re only hurting him because they’re angry at me...”
“It’s not your fault.” Hollow words, he knew. “He’d want you to be free.”
“Maybe. It’s my job to get him out of there, though.
She went back to looking at the stars, and Boone did the same. She might have been too young to risk her life, but he couldn’t argue with her sentiment. As they sat together and shared the cool night breeze, Boone tried not to wonder if his daughter might have grown up anything like Katniss.
Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 4/5
Date: 2013-03-18 05:18 am (UTC)Part Four: And Whisper No
Rorschach’s Journal
Hideous vermin covers the wasteland. Fitting that my nemisis should take her name from them. The AntAgonizer cowers in her cave, fearing me. Let her fear. One apocalypse wasn’t enough to teach the scum about consequences; I will succeed where the bombs did not. I will be the one to show them they cannot hide from their crimes.
Met a stranger today, known on the radio as the Lone Wanderer. Wrong. She has a disease-ridden pup with her, fed upon the flesh of the dead. Possibly keeps him out of sentimentality. Heard she came from a vault- has much to learn about the value of sentimentality in the wasteland.
She sought me out. Strange. Said she had talked to the AntAgonizer. Stranger still.
“I talked to her, and she’s agreed to take off the costume. I was hoping you’d be willing to do the same.”
I would have laughed if I had any humor left in me. Still, she wouldn’t go away.
“I know you think you’re a superhero, but you’re giving the kids some bad ideas. Your name is Scott Wollinski, your nickname is Bean- remember? Rorschach is a character in a pre-war comic. It’s time to go back to town.”
Might have been working with the AntAgonizer against me. Might have just been a fool. Made no difference. Fools are what made this country a wasteland, and are as guilty as the knowingly corrupt.
“The radio says you’ve done good,” I told her. “Go back and keep doing it. I won’t argue with a civilian.”
“No, you’re a civilian! The town is worried about you. You’re going to hurt yourself, or someone else. Maybe not even the AntAgonizer!”
Hurt myself or someone else? She clearly did not understand me, or my mission. Pointless to waste my time on fools. I fired a warning shot, and she responded quickly enough. No, not her- a pale man in a trenchcoat and hat. He knocked her over and fired back at me. Another fool- my shot came nowhere near her.
“God damn it, Edward!” I heard her call out.
I didn’t look back at her. Let the ignorant argue over petty matters. I will not get pulled into their squabbles, nor will they separate me from my mission.
Re: Five Times the World Opened Up 4/5
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-18 10:09 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times the World Opened Up 5/5
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-25 04:54 am (UTC) - ExpandArcade/M!Courier + Boone, 'Four Times Boone Ignored Arcade and Courier, and One Time He Didn't' 1/5
Date: 2012-09-15 01:30 pm (UTC)The first time Boone heard Arcade and Courier was when he was rolled up musty-smelling blankets, only half-awake and cotton-headed by too much meat at dinner and a snootful of Arcade's healing powder to tamp down his headache. Early in the evening he'd balled his shirt up for a pillow and dropped off to sleep, his back turned against Courier and the doc as they played Caravan for caps.
When he'd woken up again the canvas walls of their tent were bowed against the chill wind that rushed up Red Rock Canyon, and the fire in the middle of their ring of sleep mats had long burned itself down to coals. Boone hitched his blankets up over his shoulder and let what heat was left in the fire warm his back as he closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep, drifting in and out of half-formed dreams as the canyon whistled with the wind.
He would've stayed like that for minutes, hours maybe, until a small sound prickled at the edge of his hearing. It kept him awake enough to frown at the dirty canvas and try to place the noise as friend or foe; important enough to get up and brave the cold night air, or just annoying enough to keep him awake and remind him of how much his head ached. He frowned at the canvas, ready to roll over and toss something at the doc to get him up for once, then finally recognised the noise for what it was: the stop-start breaths of Courier jerking himself off and trying – failing – to be silent.
Boone's line of thought on these things was generally that privacy was where you claimed it. Shit, three older brothers and a few years serving in the army meant that he didn't really care when and where a fella decided to bend his wrist, save maybe pointing it in Boone's direction. There wasn't much in the way of locked doors and quiet moments when you took up company with a fella who seemed fated to save the Mojave come hell or high water. Hell, it's not like he hadn't spent a few nights on the road waiting for Courier to fall asleep so he could rub one out himself. Whatever. A man has needs. If he wanted to toss off in a tent with a sleeping audience, then so be it.
Boone would've deployed his best selective hearing and ignored Courier's laboured breathing, maybe distracted himself with thoughts of those legendary Kahn breakfasts he'd heard so much about, but instead there was a low murmur of spread your legs and, yeah, that wasn't Courier talking. The doctor was awake too; awake and watching and directing from his own bedroll.
Boone blinked. Somehow he suspected that this might not be the best time to roll over and announce he was awake. He'd never been one for smoothly extricating himself from awkward situations, and this was probably right up there on the awkward scale. 'Sorry for interrupting' seemed like it wouldn't quite cut it, not when he'd apparently slept his way all through the foreplay.
"Slower. I don't want you rushing."
"Shh," mumbled Courier, voice shaky. "You'll wake him up."
"He snorted a double dose of healing powder for his headache," said Arcade, low and quiet. "You could sing Swanee and he'd sleep straight through it. Now keep going. I don't remember saying you could stop."
They kept going in a soft susurrus of keep going and show me and faster and slower until Courier swore under his breath, feet kicking out from under his blankets as he came with a strangled grunt. The doc whispered his approval, and Boone stared blankly at the canvas walls of the tent and blushed so hard he thought he might catch alight.
Re: Arcade/M!Courier + Boone, 'Four Times Boone Ignored Arcade and Courier, and One Time He Didn't'
Date: 2012-09-16 02:45 am (UTC)Re: Arcade/M!Courier + Boone, 'Four Times Boone Ignored Arcade and Courier, and One Time He Didn't'
Date: 2014-08-30 08:18 am (UTC)Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 1/?
Date: 2012-09-28 11:44 am (UTC)Relationship: General
Series: Standing Alone
"Boo-"
Charlie presses her forehead against the peeling motel door and starts coughing, her hat brim folding in over her face. Mornings have always been the worst when she's sick, and as unique as the cause is this time, apparently her body's sticking with the same old routine. Everything settles in nice and tight overnight, all cozy in the cooler air, but five minutes after the sun comes up and starts heating things it's checkout time.
She digs her nails in where she had planned on knocking before her lungs decided to turn inside out and just hacks and wheezes until her body can't do anything but twitch and give up and drag in another breath.
Pulling in air isn't much better. It feels like she's trying to deep throat a straight razor. Unable to stand the tickle any longer, Charlie rears back and sneezes, a hard 'ka-CHOW!' that rocks her on her heels.
She waits for a moment, has to, then wipes some of the clotted red mist off the door and rubs it between her fingers. It's either blood from her innards or leftovers from the Cloud.
"Probably both." She croaks, and leans down to grab a handful of dust from the stoop, rubbing it onto the stain with her soiled hand until it's all just nice, tidy, unassuming mud instead of blood, or toxic waste, or whatever the hell those little chunks were she just messed up his door with. "Boone. C'mon, it's sunshiny time. I'm back."
Charlie waits for another minute, two, then decides he's either out of it or ignoring her, and either way she doesn't have a scrap of politeness or patience left to deal with it. She's tired, so very tired, and while Boone is a cranky sonofabitch, one that by all accounts left Forlorn Hope without her after barely a day of waiting, he's a slightly familiar one that she thinks will at least have her back instead of trying to drive a super-heated knife into it and all she wants to do right now is simply spend some time being close to-
She stands there poleaxed for a second, decides to add a heap big side of lonely to the fatigue, then gives a disgusted huff and sets to work.
It's a short matter of a held breath and a bobby pin to get the door open. Boone's radio is back out it in about half that amount of time, landing on the stoop with a staticky clunk. Mr. New Vegas is subsumed under a swath of white noise.
Well, Boone's not in, but she is, and now very reluctant to change that state of affairs, so she decides she might as well learn something while she searches for her nerves. Any insight into the taciturn young man would be a bloody godsend.
Charlie looks around avidly, taking in the finely made wardrobe and bed, which is not made at all and probably hasn't been for a long time judging by the dingy grey the linen has turned, scrubs her boot over the pretty rug on the floor that has dents dug into it from a missing dining set that was obviously larger than the crapsack diner one off to the side with its single cracked chair, and finally fixes her eyes on the bloodied knife on the floor and the old stains arcing out around it. His, or some Legionary Carla was lucky enough to tag? Charlie suspects it to be the latter; Boone has no noticable scars, and the short time she's been around him has been long enough to teach her that while not the brightest blossom on the cactus, he is far too skilled at killing to miss a target that damn close.
That puzzle speculated on to satisfaction, she focuses on other things.
Enough of her nose still works to tell her the wardrobe next to her smells like mesquite and flowers, some store-bought scent that's slowly being snuffed out by time and heat. The rest of the room reeks of cheap gutrot, rancid beans, and the sour punk of sweat and sickness. It's surprisingly thick for a place that has next to nothing left in it.
She's wondering if she should head on up into Dinky's mouth; if Boone's anywhere around, green-eyed Manny Vargas whould know about it, obsessive bugger that he is, when the missing sniper in question shoves his bathroom door open with a sharp *whang!*
Re: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 1a/?
Date: 2012-09-28 11:46 am (UTC)"Uh." She darts her eyes towards the squawking radio in the doorway, and keeps them there. His beret and sunglasses are off, and being able to see his eyes for once is alarmingly disconcerting under the circumstances.
"Get out."
Re: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 1a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-09-29 07:28 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 1a/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-09-30 10:27 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 2/?
Date: 2012-09-30 10:18 am (UTC)He puts his own combat knife away. "Get. Out."
Charlie keeps staring at the doorway where his radio sits spitting static instead of the station it's been carefully left on for months, and he clenches his hands up into fists. Not even two weeks on the road with her and she had vanished, the person who had a plan, who was supposed to help set him on his last path to redemption, a path with a point, a direction, a purpose. Not even a stinking month and he was back in this hellish limbo of a room, tied to it like a Brahmin waiting for slaughter and she's the first person in this room since she was taken, and the smell of her, the rotten smell of her, some dry chemical bitterness that clings to the back of his nose is eating away the last sweet traces of lilies.
"Get out now."
Charlie jerks, still not moving, still not looking him in the face like everyone else in this shitty little town, and his temper goes even higher.
"GET THE FUCK OUT!"
She starts edging towards the window instead of the door, still refusing to meet his eyes again, and Boone snaps. It's the only time in his life he'll get the drop on Charlie in a close-quarters fight.
He slams into her so hard her hat flies clean off, preceding them out the door like a frisbee. It's a good six feet before they both crash down again, Charlie twisting and shrieking as they tumble up with his busted radio, a high, wild sound of panic that doesn't stop until she grabs it up and brings it down with a crash on his head.
His bell rung like it's Easter Sunday, Boone gets in two or three more half-hearted punches before he's airborne, one arm jammed up behind his back. Ranger Andy is jerking him around like a ragdoll.
"Son, just what the hell do you think you're doing to this lady? Look at her! Knocked the wind and the inside of her mouth just about clean out!"
Boone jerks his head down as far as he's able. Charlie's crumpled up in the dirt coughing her guts out, her ragged braid dark against the shock of her paled skin. The anger in him runs out slightly, replaced by puzzlement. However hard he was hitting her, however berserk he was while he did it, he knows it wasn't that hard.
"Ranger, no. S'my fault. W-wo-ho-" She whoops and shudders, and just about flings the next words out into the dirt between her hands, a spray of red going with them. "Wokehimouttanightmare. Bad nightmare. Bad. Bitter S-ss-sp-"
She doesn't get the last word out, but it's still magic enough to make Andy let him go. He doesn't say anything, which Boone is beyond grateful for; the old ranger just nods his head once and helps him move Charlie over to the shade of the motel's overhang.
Boone can still remember enough about caring for someone else to pretend like he does and takes a short trip in and out of his room, coming back with a bottle of water and a handkerchief which he hands off to Charlie. He can't bring himself to do more, but what little he's done is enough to placate the old Ranger. Andy nods again as he gives his parting words, keeping one hell of a weather eye on Boone.
"Not that it's any of my business, but it's nice to see you moving on a bit. Be careful now."
Charlie's face goes comically blank as he limps off.
Boone stands there for a while with much the same expression on his own, dealing with a few latent surges of anger and mortification, wishing she had never come back, wishing she had never left him, wishing that he just had his damn beret and glasses to hide behind. He leans down towards his doorway and snatches up her hat instead, holding it out as he straightens. Charlie stares up at him warily for a moment, the bottle and cloth still clutched in her other hand, then slowly pulls his spare beret from one of her voluminous pockets.
Boone shakes his head. "That one's yours. You ditched."
She tucks the beret away again and fumbles her hat back on. "Didn't mean to."
"What happened."
Re: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 3/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-09-30 10:24 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-09-30 10:26 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 3/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-10-01 04:49 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: No Vacancy 3/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-10-04 08:15 pm (UTC) - ExpandFive Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Dead Rabbits 1/?
Date: 2012-10-08 04:15 am (UTC)Relationship: General
Series: Standing Alone
Charlie stumbles back into the Lucky 38 just as twilight settles in on the Strip, riding on the kind of downward slope the bender he's currently going up on will most assuredly produce the next day. She wanders over to the elevator, does a double-take of her surroundings when she gets there, and vaguely reverses course, eventually washing up on the bar next to him. A waft of considerably nicer alcohol than what he's currently imbibing comes with her.
Boone keeps staring into his glass as she hangs her duster off the back of her chair, removes her hat and gloves, then places a stained deck of cards down on the polished wood and carefully starts to lay them out. He thinks she might be setting up a game of Solitaire. "Charlie."
"Boone."
"Evening."
"Seen Raul?"
"No."
Charlie stops playing and rests her head on her hands, leaves it there for a long moment and then snaps it back up, dragging the cards together so fast that some of them bend in half. "Any of that hooch you're drinking left?"
"Like you need more."
Charlie cants an eyebrow at him, sounding testy as she puts the deck away. "Like you need it at all."
Boone decides he is not in the mood for her sourness; whatever snit she's gotten herself into doesn't match his current hell. It's a bad day. A birthday. One that will never happen for the woman it belongs to. The present for it is still tucked away, hidden where she would never think to look and destined to sit there until everything around it rots into dust. "The fuck you know about what I need."
"Well, why don't you tell me, then."
The answer pours loose before he can think it might be a good idea to stop it. "I want Carla, for one more night. This night. I want my baby in my arms. Deliver that." He digs around in a pocket and slams a handful of NCR scrip onto the bar. "There. That's what you need, isn't it?"
Charlie picks the sheaf of bills up, eyes it, then firmly tucks it all back into his hand, her face inscrutable. "I'm not that kind of Courier. Carla's gone. You can't bring back what's dead, Boone, only make something new."
Oh, this is definitely not the sort of discussion he should be having in this state; probably one that he shouldn't have at all, but he can't help himself. The sad thing is, Charlie might be the only person who could understand exactly why he finds it so unfair. Why she's so unfair. "You're back. Why the fuck should it be you, come out of the dirt like an undead joke. Some barren, illiterate bitch can come back, so why not my heart-" Boone suddenly finds himself staring up from the floor, Charlie's busted knuckles matching his busted lip.
"You are one melancholic, mean little sonofabitch when you're drunk, you know that?"
He stares up at her dumbly, the viciousness in his voice traded for a sullen petulance. "You hit me." Joining this revelation is the feeling that he has finally made Charlie genuinely angry with him, almost uncontrollably so. Hand still cocked and her jaw clenched tight, she's breathing so hard the air is practically roaring out of her as she glares down at him. Boone decides there is some small satisfaction to be found in that, at least.
"If I didn't think I'd punch your lung in with a rib, there'd be a kick joining it." She turns to head for the elevator.
"You hit like a girl." It isn't bright, but it is the best he can come up with, unless he really wants to- "Should read up on it and improve yourself. Wait, right, scratch that."
Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Dead Rabbits 2/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-10-10 05:57 am (UTC) - ExpandFive Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Dead Rabbits 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-10-10 05:59 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Dead Rabbits 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-10-17 09:00 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Dead Rabbits 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2012-10-23 06:10 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 1/?
Date: 2013-03-11 02:01 am (UTC)Relationship: General
Series: Standing Alone
Charlie glances across the firepit as the caravanner they've picked up redoubles her efforts at going after the sniper sitting morosely on the other side, who as of yet hasn't said one word in response.
"What, you don't go for the ladies?"
Charlie speaks up quietly. "Cass."
"Come on fella, I'm talking to you."
Charlie raises her voice somewhat. "Cass."
"I'm just looking for a little fun. Hell, with your charm you just have to be single-"
Boone shifts, just a tiny bit, and Charlie positively roars. "CASS!"
Cass whips her head around and yells back. "WHAT?"
Charlie doesn't look at her, just talks around the lump of dried coyote meat she's been methodically gnawing away at, staring at the strip in her hand it came from like it's personally offended her. "Would you very much mind leaving my fella there alone? It's more than a little insulting, you doing that right in front of me."
Cass scratches her head through her battered hat. "Well, shit. Why didn't you say anything? Sorry, Charlie."
"No worries. There's another bottle of whiskey in my pack. If you can bring back something fresh to eat, you can have at 'er."
"Hot damn, that's a deal."
Boone gets up as Cass takes off, strides around the fire, and finally opens his mouth as soon as he's sure the other woman is far and well out of earshot. "Charlie."
She swallows, holding her free hand up placatingly. "Now, I didn't fib on any of that. You're following me around, and you're a fella, last I checked. Her behaviour really was also very insulting to my fine set of sensibilities." Charlie drops her hand back down and bites into the strip in the other, teeth bared and twisting her head around like a cur until she rips off another flake of meat, again mouthing it about as she talks. "It wath that or get mysthelf into a fitht fight."
He crosses his arms. "I don't need any of your help."
She plucks the as-yet unchewed flake out of her mouth to deliver a longer and more coherent speech. "And the desert doesn't need any more sun, yet it still keeps shining on, oblivious to everything and not giving a shit either way. You can sleep on the far side of me tonight, if you want. Way she seems to be, she's liable to get grabby if the second bottle doesn't take her out for the night." Finished, she pops the bit of meat back in and rather noisily starts going to town on it.
Boone shoots a disgusted glance towards the large pile of brush and tumbleweeds the lanky woman's piled up at the far edge of the campsite, a ragged blanket just peeping out from underneath. "I'm not bunking down in your bush. I don't care what...Charlie?" He briefly breaks out of his sullen attitude as she whoops loud and then starts choking, dropping the jerky into the dust to scrabble at her throat with both hands. "Charlie, spit it out." He glares back as she gives him one that clearly states that that is exactly what she is trying to do. She's also failing miserably. Boone reaches out and whacks her briskly on the back in time with her heaving, stopping when she finally hacks up the sodden wad of half-masticated canid. "You eat food, not breathe it." He scowls as she started whooping again. "What the hell's gotten into you?"
"The distressing notion of you turning down the chance to get into my bush." Charlie goes off even harder at the look of sudden realization on his face, and she draws her legs up under her duster until she's nothing but a shaking, cackling bundle of leather, the odd snort bursting out from under the quivering brim of her hat. Boone stares stolidly into the fire until she uncurls, wiping at her eyes with the backs of both hands. "Thank you, Boone. I haven't had an occasion to laugh like that in a very long time."
They say nothing to each other after that, Charlie only speaking a few appreciative words when Cass comes back in dragging a decrepit-looking Gecko and tossing her the bottle she had promised. He doesn't object when Charlie sprawls in the dirt next to his bedroll an hour later, legs crossed at the ankle, hat tilted over her face, and the long line of her body solidly between him and Cass.
Re: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 1/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-12 07:42 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 1/?
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-13 02:53 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 2/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-17 11:33 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-17 11:34 pm (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-18 04:56 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-03-24 01:01 am (UTC) - ExpandRe: Five Times Boone's Brawled With Charlie: Unexploded Ordnance 3/3
From: (Anonymous) - Date: 2013-06-19 12:55 am (UTC) - Expand