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Evening, West of Hyde Park
Roxanne battled the super mutant behemoth, but she was struggling. Her sword could hardly cut through the super mutant’s thick hide, but the fight (if you can call it that, and not a beatdown) already left tears in her Vault 111 jumpsuit, to say nothing of the dented metal armor pieces she wore over it. The practical swamp they were in didn't help matters either, with the muck getting in the way of her movement. She caught the behemoth’s fire hydrant in the stomach, which sent her flying.
Down on the ground, Roxanne looked across at Cait, long since knocked out. They didn’t just fight through a base full of Gunners only to get flattened by an overgrown goblin. Frustrated, gasping for breath, and desperate, she grasped for their fallen supply bag and found the pouch of chems, filled with Stimpaks and a solitary Psycho. She shakily took the syringe, and injected.
“YOU’RE FUCKED, ASSHOLE,” yelled a voice she hardly recognized, colored with emotion kept under lock and key.
She swung her sword at the behemoth’s fire hydrant arm, the serrated blade digging into the monster’s flesh with a wet sound. With a frightening ferocity, she repeatedly hacked at the limb until the sword fell apart.
Momentum on her side, Roxanne jammed the jagged remnants of her blade straight into the behemoth’s thigh, dropping it to its knees.
Roxanne took a grenade from her belt, and pulled the pin.
A swift jab to the behemoth’s stomach, and it bellowed.
Roxanne then stuck the grenade into its mouth, and, reason breaking through her haze, ran to put some distance between it and herself.
The explosion sent the behemoth’s head flying in every direction, painting the ground red and green.
Still burning, Roxanne kicked what was left of the super mutant, leaving fainter and fainter indentations on the flesh.
Blackness began creeping into her vision. As everything went dark around her, she only had one thought.
“What would they think of me now?”
Roxanne came to with a gasp.
Cait was crouched in front of her, a pitying and slightly disgusted expression on her face. “You scared the absolute livin’ shite outta me there. Psycho’s no fuckin’ joke, Roxie.”
She sat upright, shoulders tense. “Look...it was either that, or I try to push my luck even more and get mauled by the behemoth. I chose the option that was less likely to get me killed.”
“But it still could've gotten ye killed in the long run! You never know if yer gonna get a taste for the stuff, it's not fun.”
“It’s just the one time.”
“Listen, I don't really care what people do most times but coming from you...I'm just hurt you had any of that junk on ya, especially while traveling with me.”
A pause. “You're right. You're right. If you're clean, it's only fair I steer clear of the chems.”
“And that's a promise, right? None of yer sneaky loopholes or any o’ that?”
Roxanne gave as sincere a smile as she could. “You have my word. Let's get to Diamond City now, shall we? We got guns and junk to sell.”
Cait took Roxanne’s hand in her own, heavily callused hand, and helped her up. “Might as well. Also, ye need a fuckin’ shower.”
Roxanne laughed, a sound barely more than a gasp.
They were quiet, as they walked.
Cait broke the silence. “Thanks. For savin’ both our skins.”
“I do like living again, so don’t worry about it.
“Just one last thing. Tomorrow, I want ye to run across Diamond City, in yer underwear.”
“Uhh, what?”
“Ye heard me.”
“Why?”
“Maybe it’s to make up for the emotional damage ye did to me. Maybe I just want to see yer tits bouncin’. Maybe I think ye need to loosen up a little. Or, maybe I just want a laugh. Who knows?”
Roxanne gave it some thought. “Fine. I’ll do it. A few things, though.”
“Shoot.”
“I wear a sports bra. A mask. And a pair of shoes. I don’t want to live through–” she gestured back in the direction of the behemoth–”that, and then lose a foot from a rusty nail.”
“Fair enough, we got a deal.”
The Next Day, Noontime, Diamond City
Well, this was gonna be one of the weirder moments in her life. Roxanne stood at the entrance of Diamond City, just out of sight. She removed her easily identifiable Pip-Boy, unzipped her Vault jumpsuit, and slipped out of it, taking care to keep her sneakers on.
An involuntary shiver as the air greeted her bare, marked, tan skin. She stretched, stuck a raider assault helmet on her head, and took a breath.
Roxanne started her predetermined route.
Passing through Publick Occurrences, little Nat Wright remarked to Piper, “Is that...that Blue lady you're so into? Is this why?”
Piper laughed uncomfortably and said, “Uhh, Nat, let’s just not mention this ever again, okay?” while obviously stealing glances at the running figure.
“Is that-is that a malfunctioning synth?!” said Myrna, eyes wide.
Roxanne didn't say a word, but raised a middle finger as she jogged.
Myrna yelled, “Security! Do something?!”
The Diamond City guards, clearly amused, did nothing but grin.
Roxanne heard heavy thumps across the metal rooftops, as Cait's deceptively dense frame bounded across the city to watch this unfold. She hoped she was enjoying this.
Past Valentine's Detective Agency, where its two employees were outside, taking a smoke break.
“Thought she’d crack eventually,” deadpanned Nick Valentine.
“Maybe it's a Pre-War thing?” Ellie lamely suggested.
“It’s not.”
Through the Science Center, the Dugout Inn, and Choice Chops (with a whistle from Polly), Roxanne’s ultimate endgoal was here. Her path ended in the outdoor dining area of the Colonial Taphouse. A lifetime ago, she would've been let into this place without a fuss, with a hearty hello, even. Now, she was eyed suspiciously by a snooty Mr. Handy.
“Ma’am,” said Wellingham with his contemptuous tone. “You may have heard of the rule 'No Shirt, No Shoes, No Service’? I believe you’re lacking one of those basic requirements.”
Cait stepped in. “Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on, she’s just getting hers. And get us a drink will ya, you judgmental bucket of bolts?” She handed Roxanne a dress shirt and an old black skirt.
Attired reminiscently to her Pre-War self, Roxanne had to stop and wonder, “What would they think of me now?”
But as Cait handed her a Nuka Cola, and they shared a toast, she came to the conclusion that she just doesn’t give a damn.