Chapter Text
As it turned out, there were a great many questions that Lee found particularly interesting. Enough so that the two of them kept to the Third Rail deep into the early hours of the morning when those equally foolish — and Charlie, of course — remained. Two empty glasses sat between them; booze being long exchanged in the way of water and, perhaps, too much caffeine.
“What is a horse?”
Now that was enough to coax laughter from Lee’s throat. A deep sort of laughter that resonated from her chest. The gunslinger repeated the word, horse , and Piper, none the wiser, nodded. Something sarcastic and snippy leapt to her tongue. Some two-bit, spitfire response strong enough to deter the woman. But Lee hadn’t the mind for snippy or spitfire. No, she couldn’t do that, not now. Felt wrong to be an ass now. Rather, she wet her lips with her tongue and nodded to herself like she often did, coming to her own conclusion.
“They’re a lot like brahmin, ‘cept you don’t eat them — you can,” she reasoned but immediately frowned. “Never eaten one though, figure they’re too lean for that.” And then she laughed because why had she ever thought to mention that. “They’re good for folk who work the land. Get yourself a good one, or two, and they can pull old machinery across a field. They can pack stuff for you too but I mostly rode mine when I wasn’t out on an assignment.”
“You have a horse?”
If Piper had only heard one sentence, she’d certainly heard the best. Something in Lee’s face lit up then. “Frank,” she said, not once breaking eye contact with her. The grin that crossed her lips was killer.
“Frank?” Piper repeated, albeit slower. The woman raised a brow, somehow unsurprised, but pushed for an answer all the same.
“Her name’s frank,” said Lee, as if those four words made all the sense in the world.
“Pray tell.” Piper leaned forward in her seat and folded her arms. “Why did you name her Frank.”
It was Lee’s turn to fumble now. She raised a finger to tap an unheard — yet terribly familiar — rhythm against her jawbone. Once enough time had passed, and it really wasn’t much, Lee shrugged something to herself that must've been akin to acknowledgment. “ Technically, she’s not my horse. Her name’s Franklin — I call her Frank for short. She was named for a scientist.” A pause. “A chemist actually but that’s still a scientist, isn’t it?” To which Piper nodded. “Anyway, Rosalind Franklin, right? Apparently an important science woman. Something about DNA being a double helix?”
“What’s DNA?”
Oh Lee knew the question on Piper’s mind before it was even an utterance in the wind. And she had not one viable-fucking-explanation to respond with. So Lee simply brought her glass of water to her lips and downed half of it like she’d been dying of thirst. But this wasn;t the Mojave and she wasn’t dying of thirst. “Dunno,” she said eventually. “I had a… friend. Same one who named the horse. She’d probably be a hell of a lot better at this whole explaining thing. Whole science-business was right up her alley.”
Despite her inability to describe concepts as eloquently as the woman, this friend of hers, Lee wasn’t a lost cause. She frowned for all of a handful of seconds before her face lit up like a firecracker. She slapped the tabletop, grinning all wild-like. The few people who still remained shot her a series of increasingly odd and annoyed looks but Lee didn’t appear the least bit deterred. “You write notes for your articles, yeah?” she asked but it was less a question and more a thought aloud. “Think of it like ‘em. The notes determine the article. Everything that gets written in that notebook of yours is going to determine how the article turns out. Same goes for DNA — ‘ts the notes that determine the person?”
Piper stared, expression unreadable. Lee stared back.
“I think… that actually makes sense.”
“I think…” Lee said, mirroring Piper’s tone, “that you should get a second opinion from that doctor.” Then she paused. “Not the face one, though. Guy gives me the creeps.”
“Doc Crocker?”
Lee feigned a strained look, pushing her lips to one side. “I think? Guy walked up to me and told me my cheekbones were moldable. The fuck does that mean?”
It shouldn’t have drawn a smile to her lips. The way Piper’s face lit up; the gentle beginnings of laughter. Shouldn’t have but nonetheless did. She really should’ve erred on the side of caution with this woman. But it was so very easy to let herself… relax. So she goaded Piper on: “You seem to have an idea, Miss Wright. Pray tell.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” said Piper through her grin.
“I think we’re far past the point of good ideas.”
“Oh don’t let the caffeine fool you, I have a great many number of ideas, Blue.”
There it was again.
That name.
“Like a newspaper about some drifter?” Lee mused, watching for Piper’s reaction.
“One of my finest subjects, mind you. She’s strange company, I must admit,” Piper said. “She’s from out west, you might know her, has an odd but recognizable gait. I don’t always understand her but she’s got a few interesting stories and one hell of a vocabulary.”
“This feels targeted.”
“I don’t seem to remember mentioning her name, odd that you would assume it’s you.” If Lee were offended, it certainly showed because Piper’s grin grew tenfold. “She’s nice, for the most part. A little snippy but nothing you can’t tune out.”
“Oh, har-har,” said Lee. “Think I should tell you about this journalist I know. Wicked smart, has a knack for getting into trouble. Solid in a firefight should the need arise.”
“Oh yeah?” Piper had leaned forward, ever so slightly, in her seat. “Sounds like she’s saved your ass a few times.”
Lee inclined her head toward the ceiling, and nodded her head from side to side as if deep in thought and then shrugged. “Debatable.”
“ Debatable? ”
“Yep,” said Lee, popping the ‘p.’
“You’re deplorable.”
“I don’t speak your fancy, journalist language.”
“You might genuinely be beyond help.”
_____
Lee raised her hands in the air in mock defense, although she looked more offended than anything else. Two people — raiders, scavengers, or otherwise, she didn’t care — stood opposite her, guns raised and ready to fire. Lee pushed her jaw from one side to the other but said nothing, frowning. To her right, stood Piper, some untraceable emotion or another. She’d gotten halfway through reaching for her pistol before the barrel of something unwelcome found the crook of her neck.
It was partly Lee’s fault. She would admit as much, freely, if they were given the opportunity to see this little masquerade through. Because of course it was. She’d made the foolish decision to avoid a crowd of mutants by following the smaller streets that then dumped into an alley. Which led them to this wonderful scenario.
“If I ask really nicely will you pretty please not shoot me in the face?” Lee felt Piper’s glare burning a whole in the side of her face. She angled her head to the side for but a moment and shot the woman a crooked grin that all but meant don’t worry. Or try not to worry at the very least. She returned her attention to their could-be killers and shrugged. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement and avoid the whole murdering and stealing our shit outcome, yeah?”
Their could-be, would-be killers shared an odd look amongst the two of them. The one nearest to them; with a rifle aimed at Lee’s heart, lowered it some. The threat was still there, albeit alleviated some. “Do you have medicine?”
Of all the requests she expected to hear, this was not one of them. Lee scrutinized them: they were definitely not raiders. They might’ve looked the part but they didn’t carry themselves like assholes. Could’ve been scavengers but not the unruly sort who shot first and asked questions later. No… they were merely survivors.
“What do you need?”
The woman lowered her rifle even more and Lee’s shoulder slackened some. The woman held a hand out to the man beside her and he followed suit, holstering his pistol. “Our boy is sick.”
That was enough to draw a strange look from Lee. Noticeable only to her traveling companion. She nodded once. “He puking?”
A nod.
Lee grimaced. “He got a fever then?”
Another nod.
“Could be anything, really. What’ve you given him.”
The two, parents she assumed, shared a look. “Nothing yet.” Lee damn near audibly sighed. But there was Piper beside her; give them the benefit of the doubt, she imagined the woman would say. Or something along those lines. Bleeding heart or something adjacent to it. “All the old pharmacies are looted.”
“None of the old world pharmacies carried RadAway,” Lee said as if it were obvious. She fell into a crouch, discarded her pack, and started reaching for the clasps to undo the material, but instead found the cruel end of the man’s pistol in her face. She froze, bit her lip, and shook her head. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just do that. Put the iron away or I’ll fucking shoot you.”
“She doesn’t mean that,” she heard Piper say.
“I do.”
“She doesn’t .” Piper emphasized with a polite smile. “My friend here enjoys running her mouth when she really ought to shut it.” Lee didn’t need to look up to know that Piper was glaring at her. “Ignore most of what she says. She’s fond of thinly-veiled threats but she really doesn’t mean it.”
“I do,” said Lee but her words lacked the bite of an unruly individual. Rather, she offered up a bottle of pills, tossing them at the man. His eyes widened a fraction of an inch, forgoing his rifle in lieu of the bottle. A funny look crossed Lee’s face for all of a handful of seconds before Piper wiped it clean off with a hand to her shoulder. A warning, more than likely. “Give ‘im two with food. Not RadAway but it should do the trick. Kid’s probably got radiation poisoning — if not that then whatever else kids catch.”
“This will help him?” the woman asked. A plea more than anything else, really.
Lee shrugged. “Maybe?” Lee said, unsure. “Radiation poison’s common enough, easy fix too. Start with that. If it gets any worse, seek out a damn doctor.”
With that, Lee refastened the straps of her pack and rose to her full height again, towering over the couple. She’d reached that hand of her’s up to her hat and adjusted the way it was set on her head. Next, played with a hole in her sleeve she’d been meaning to mend. Then frowned. “Make sure he’s drinking water. Even if he don’t want to, he’s been puking it all up, ‘ll make him sicker if he doesn’t.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Lee said, waving the couple off. “Don’t kill the kid, ‘right?”
The couple disappeared as quick as they’d come, leaving the two of them alone again. Lee fished around her pocket for a pack of smokes but found the package to empty. She sighed, discarded the empty package on the ground and turned to face Piper. The woman was openly staring. “Go on.”
“What?”
“You’ve got something you want to say, I can tell.”
“You’re an ass,” said Piper Wright without an ounce of malice. If Lee squinted, she might’ve seen the way her lips were quirked upward in the beginnings of a smile. She didn’t so Piper’s dignity was the least bit saved. Instead, the gunslinger, in all her glory, moved to lean against the brick of the alley. She looked like something out of those old posters now, picturesque even.
“I know.” There was something absolute in the woman’s tone. Stalwart, even. She was as she was and, more often than not, she was an ass. “They’re gonna kill the kid.”
“They won’t,” Piper reassured, to which Lee scoffed.
“Rad poisoning’s common as a cold. How the hell do you miss that?” Lee lamented. She watched, curious, when Piper fished around the deep pockets of her trench coat until her fingers snagged a box. She fished out the package between two fingers, opened it, retrieved two, and offered Lee one. Lee's shoulders slackened some — not entirely no, but well enough — and she pushed off the wall to grab it but Piper retracted her hand just as quick.
“Journalistic integrity aside; answer me a question and in return, you shall receive.” She wiggled the cigarette between her two fingers and Lee fought the urge to roll her eyes.
“Isn't that bribery?”
“Are you considering it?”
“Depends on the question.”
“Ah.” Piper tutted, shaking her head. The look that crossed her face then should’ve been downright criminal. She raised one of the cigarettes between her teeth and fished around for her lighter. “Not even for you, I’m afraid. Takes the fun out of a good interview.” Lee’s next movement was something adjacent to instantaneous. Not quite quick to the jump but not terribly far from it either. In one sweeping step, she cleared the remaining distance between the two of them and raised her lighter to the cigarette caught between Piper’s lips.
Piper sputtered for a response but found none. Lee merely pulled her lips into a thin line that closely resembled a smile. The woman, this terrible, terrible woman, nodded. “Go ahead, Miss Wright. I’m an open book.”
Piper blinked once, twice, thrice in rapid succession, opened her mouth to say something, shut it, and shoved the remaining cigarette into Lee’s hand. She was dead silent, contemplating, for a long moment. Only when she heard the flick of the lighter did she ask: “How does a sharpshooter in the NCR become a merc for hire?”
A shrug.
“Couple ways I could answer that.”
“How do you want to answer it?”
Lee furrowed her brow and pushed her lips to one side or another. The branching scar tissue at her cheeks moved strangely, rigid. She knocked some of the ash away from her cigarette and brought it to her lips, taking a long drag.
“NCR’s a fine company if you ignore the gleaming bits. There came a time where there was no need for me anymore,” said Lee. “I fought for them, infiltrated, killed — whatever you want to call it. Call it disillusioned , but I fought in a war, won the war. What use is a sharpshooter in peace times?”
There was that old rifle at her back. The one with twelve notches in the stock. The one Lee had used only a handful of times when the situation called for it. And, when the need was dire, rarely had she missed.
“Why come all this way for a job?”
The question earned Piper an odd look. “Told you, client’s a widow — paid well enough.”
She watched the gears and cogs of Piper’s brain turn. If she squinted, Lee was sure she could see the smoke coming from the woman’s ears. Piper shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“The part where the client is a widow or me being paid?”
“Neither,” Piper said. “You’re lying.”
“Careful, Miss Wright. I don’t quite like being called a liar.”
“Then why lie?”
“You’re detective’s gonna wonder what’s taking us so long.”
With that, Lee started off down the street, leaving Piper to gather her wits and trail after her companion.
_____
The remainder of their trip to Diamond City was particularly uneventful, save for the handful of streets where violence was avoided in lieu of another route. Lee kept a purposeful distance ahead of Piper, a handful of steps really. Enough so that, if she really needed to, she could jump into the hail of gunfire. Or, at times, enough that Piper could not even make out the etchings on her poncho.
Lee nodded, all polite, to the guard when he let them into the city. She paused some distance from the entrance and drummed her fingers against the railing, frowning. Piper emerged from behind her, already taking the stairs two at a time. She surpassed her with expert speeds, stopping only when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Lee watched from afar as the woman enveloped her kid sister in a hug, grinning something fierce.
The girl may have shrugged out of Piper’s grip and done her best to hide the smile that was certainly there, but she was obviously more than glad to see her sister’s return. By the time Lee approached, she was already part of the way through an explosive story about… well Lee couldn’t tell exactly what it was but she’d mentioned school a few times. Suddenly, she stopped speaking all together and instead stared at Lee.
“You’re the sharpshooter.”
It wasn’t a question or a statement but merely an observation. One that was near starstruck. The girl’s expression turned giddy and Lee turned to Piper. “‘m gonna go get a room.” Lee nodded in the direction of the Dugout. “I’ll see about talking to your detective in the morning.”
“Wait,” said Piper and Lee furrowed her brow, but remained still. “I’m sorry about earlier. I’d hate to see you stuck eating whatever Vadim’s cooked up at the bar… Can I make it up to you with dinner?”
It was a mere nod that found herself crammed in Publick Occurrences. A mistake on her part or not, she wasn’t so certain. Piper had outlawed her presence in the kitchen, stating that it was the least she could do. Lee, albeit begrudgingly obliged. Opposite her sat Piper’s scrawny sister, Nat. The girl stood no taller than Lee’s chest but she more than made up for her presence through a hard line of questioning that could’ve put Piper in the grave:
“Where are you from?”
“The Mojave.”
“Where’s that?”
“West.”
“How far west?”
“Almost coast to coast.”
“What’d you do in the Mojave?”
“I was a soldier.”
“Is that why you shoot good?”
“ Good? ”
“I saw you shoot in the plaza outside of town. How’d you do that?”
“ Nat ,” came Piper's warning tone from the kitchen. To which the girl responded with a drawn out okay , hanging on dramatically to the y. The girl, Nat, looked Lee dead in the eyes, leaned forward and repeated the question, albeit quieter.
Lee stared for a moment before chuckling. She was almost worse than her sister.
“Dunno, I guess. Dad took me hunting as a kid. Didn't shoot straight till I was older though.”
“Can you take me hunting?”
“ Natalie .” There was more of an edge to Piper's voice now. She was staring at the both of them, particularly focused on Nat. “Why don't you go wash up?”
Nat mumbled something under her breath but relented, retreating further into Publick Occurrences, slash, their house, leaving the two of them alone. “Sorry about her, she’s…”
“Worse than you?” Lee supplied. “If she’s anything like you, she’s got a career ahead of her.” Piper’s face fell. Hardly noticeable. Something the untrained eye wouldn’t have noticed. Not Lee though. Never Lee. “Didn’t mind the questions.”
“I…” There she was, hesitating again. “Worry about her.”
Lee pushed up and away from the couch and crossed the boundary into the unit’s small kitchen where Piper was leaning against a wall, flicking her lighter absentmindedly. She met the gunslinger’s gaze for but a moment before returning her attention to the lighter.
“You alright?”
There it was.
That open bridge of communication that Lee had tried so hard to burn.
Was so good at burning, where it mattered at least.
The lighter stopped.
“Always on good behavior, aren’t you?”
“Only when it counts.” Lee frowned. “You’re changing the subject.”
“And you’re awfully observant. What’s brought this on?”
“ You, ” Lee said without thinking, earning an odd look from her companion. She grimaced. “You don’t want her to be like you.” It was a question posed as an observation or a statement or any other vain attempt to save face. Her voice was soft, quieter than she allowed it most days. There was a strange look in Lee’s eyes, something deeply aware.
A smile pulled Piper’s lips taut but did not meet her eyes. “I’m trying to give people what they deserve: the truth. Sure, it can be scary, knowing what’s really out there. Every issue I publish, all I hear is: “Oh, Piper, why don’t you ever write publish anything happy? Piper, why can’t you write something nice for a change?” A night doesn’t go by where I’m not afraid some Institute drone’ll decide today’s the day to finally pay ol’ Piper and family a visit… I don’t want that for her.”
“You’re worried.”
“Of course I’m worried. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to her. She wants me to take her on trips out of the city. She’s growing up and I think that terrifies me.”
“She's asking you, so that counts for something.”
“What do you mean?”
Lee shrugged. Moved to the stove and shifted the pot onto an adjacent burner. She eyed the contents with some interest but quickly returned her attention to the woman beside her. “At her age, I was already sneaking out. She's asking you. She may be growing up, but she's smart about it — learned it from somewhere.”
“You say that like it's a good thing.”
“Nothing will happen to your sister.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“‘m not,” said Lee. There was a pang in her chest. The kind that accompanied a memory most foul. A frown. “Can't really be certain about much of anything these days but that kid has a good head on her shoulders… You too, come to think of it.”
“You always talk to girls like this?”
“Just the ones who follow me into the hail of gunfire.”
Those were the words. The ones that drew a smile from her companion. A real smile. Piper rolled her eyes, feigning an offense she didn’t really mean. “I'll have you know I'm not always this…”
“It's fine, Piper.”
Before she could say anything in response, Nat was back at Lee’s side with a myriad of new questions:
“What’s the Mojave like?”
“Unbearably hot then cold.”
“Why?”
“It’s a desert.”
“Did you like it better when it was hot or when it was cold?”
“I distinctly remember wishing for a nuclear winter.” That earned a snort from Piper. To which Lee only raised a brow in response and crossed her arms. “Don’t believe me?”
“Oh I do,” said Piper with, perhaps, too much sarcasm. She brought a hand to rest on her chest above her heart. “I just wish I could describe it so eloquently.”
Lee almost smiled.
Almost.
Before she could return the woman a spitfire, two-bit response, Nat had already moved onto the next topic of interest, leaving the both of them in the dust. Despite herself, Lee answered each and every one of the questions, albeit evasive as all hell. All throughout dinner; questions about the NCR or the Mojave or attempts to squeeze an invitation out of the city from the woman. Although the latter was quickly shut down by Piper. The questions were easy, the food was good, and the company was welcome. Lee couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat down for a meal like this. Couldn’t presume it would happen again. So she obliged her hosts. Partook. Helped clean up — against Piper’s wishes, of course.
This was almost… refreshing.
A reminder of something she’d lost long ago.
So it was easy to excuse herself for a smoke outside after dinner. She’d sequestered herself a spot in an alley, head smooth against the sheet metal. One hand fumbled for the pack in her pocket and the other reached to grasp the necklace through the material of her shirt. She felt the twin rings. A pair, the two of them. Two of the few things she opted to carry with her from the life she left behind.
Her heart beat a rhythm, a melody in her chest. Rapid, too quick. She resigned herself. Lee brought the unlit cigarette to her lips, holding it between her teeth while she fought to find the lighter in her pocket. She needed but a moment spent amidst the fray. A deadly reminder.
She imagined a woman beside her, leaned against the alley, nagging her about her worst vice. Wished that woman would pluck the damn thing from between her lips and throw it into the nearest irradiated puddle. Been too long since someone last put her in her place.
Lee lit the cigarette and relished in the burn.
She imagined the woman would frown; point out her unkempt appearance even. Perhaps question the new bite mark on her forearm. Curse her for it too. Hell, she’d curse her out of house and home if only to prove a point.
You’re smoking again?
What’ve you gone and done this time?
There was never any true malice to her words. Never an ounce of hurt. That woman couldn’t hurt a bloatfly if she had iron sights. Just worry. The bleeding kind from a bleeding heart.
You look thin, she imagined this woman would say.
When was the last time you slept?
This woman, the one Lee imagined standing beside her; she couldn’t remember her face.