Chapter Text
She lights a cigarette before reaching for another book. All around her were piles of old texts about all sort of things. This was her second book of the day, the fifth of the week. She hasn't eaten in almost a whole day, and there is a Mr.Handy buzzing about the penthouse. She fixed him her damned self. She had been so proud. Mr.House installed a new personality on her little robot butler. He told her it was to make him more efficient. She knew it was just so it would be easier for him to spy on her.
Living at the Lucky 38 might have been a fancy prison to anyone else. To her, it was a haven. A balm to the scorching sun of the Mojave. She was free to do whatever as long as she remained loyal to Mr.House. And that was so easy to do, that she didn’t even think twice when he offered a chance to work for him. She already got shot under his employment once, what was a couple more bullets. Plus, he paid really well.
“Ma'am, Mr.House is calling for you” she looks up from her book. The eye pods of the Mr.Handy are all fixated on her. Mr.House suggested that she name it, a pompous name, Alfred, as proper butlers are called. She found that Mr.Handy on a raider camp, almost completely scrapped and with a dick drawn on their chassis. So she called him Richard.
She nods her confirmation, and stands up after marking her page on the book. She could see her reflection on Dicky’s new shiny body. She didn’t look too bad. The grey sweater that she found on the penthouse made her look distinguished. And she knew that Mr.House couldn’t say she was under-dressed. The sweater used to be his anyway.
Her bare feet touch the cold marble floor of the elevator, but she isn’t willing to come back for her slippers. She could always sit with her feet up at the penthouse, so the could shouldn’t matter for too long. She calls out a ‘hello’ to Jane as soon as the doors ding open. And all she gets in return is a flirtatious giggle from the securitron.
“No need to come down, Miss Laura.” House was stiff with formalities, even when he used his scolding voice on her. She had barely touched the first step of the stairs when he called out to her. “We’ll be meeting at the dining table.”
“As you wish, Mr.House” her voice is hoarse from lack of use, and she almost cringes at it. How long has it been since she last spoke? Maybe since her last meeting with House a week ago.
She reaches the dining table, and then she really cringes. The table is set for two. The side by a monitor with House’s face is empty from all the food that pilled up on her side. Now, she’s sure that he programmed Dicky to keep tabs on her for him.
“Don’t try to be stubborn, Miss Laura. Just sit down, fill up your plate, and tell me of your latest project.” it was moments like these that she lamented that all she had of House’s face was a static picture. It was hard to pinpoint what he was feeling, or thinking about if all she had was a voice. Still, she complies, like she always does when he gives her an order.
She stuffs some fresh bread in her mouth, and looks up to his tinted green monitor. It was good, that her boss was just an TV with an attitude. This whole private dinner set up would have been too awkward if he was a flesh and blood man. She sighs in pleasure once she takes a bite of the steak that was served for her.
“Funny, we should talk about my new project at dinner. Because I want to fix the kitchen robots that we have here at the 38.” she takes a sip of water and looks at House’s fixed eyes at the monitor. It was always easier to talk if she looked straight at them. “I don’t feel good eating from the Ultra Luxe. I don’t completely trust their food after the whole meat incident. Even if their food taste delicious.”
“It’s a fine project. And you’ll find that once their mechanical parts are in order, no human chef can surpass the robotic ones from the 38.”
He’s arrogant as always. He always is when she tries to thinker with RobCo. property. He knows his inventions were the top of the line. Made her wonder at how easily he accepted Dicky, into his hotel. But then, he did spend hours raving at General Atomics lack of foresight in their Mr.Handy’s programming while he set a better personality on Dicky.
“I’m glad you approve, Mr.House” she smiles up at the monitor. She knows he looked at her through the many cameras at the casino. But it sure was easier to think of him looking at from those black greenish eyes.
He hums an approving note at her, and she goes back to her meal. All was well at the Lucky 38.