Chapter Text
It was a normal night in Novac when Boone met Courier Six.
He was on watch, staring at the horizon through the scope of his rifle, waiting for any legionaire to dare make an appearance. The minutes ticked by into hours as he sat in the makeshift sniper perch, as they always did when he was on shift, and Boone was focused, ready for anything.
Well, he thought he was. He sure wasn't ready for someone to politely clear their throat behind him. Boone almost jumps out of his skin at the sound, pulling his head back from looking through his scope to swing and look at whoever was behind him. A hand goes to the machete on his belt, half expecting it to be some Legion assassin finally there to put an end to him. But, when he turns, all he sees is a lone woman in the shadows, plainly dressed and standing by the door.
"Goddamn it!" Boone practically shouts, standing up out of his chair to face the stranger, rifle in hand. "Don't sneak up on me like that, what do you want?" He snaps. The woman just spreads out her open palms, as if showing she's unarmed, and smiles wide at him, only managing to unnerve Boone further.
"I heard there was a sniper nest up here." Is all she says in reply, and Boone has to clench his jaw to contain his irritation. Great, a tourist, he thinks.
"I think you'd better leave." He says, trying to get the woman to take the hint. He has a shift to get back to. Instead, she just brings up a hand to pull the cigarette from her lips, casually exhaling a small cloud of smoke off to the side.
"Relax, I was told to speak to the guy in the dinosaur mouth about a man in a checkered suit. Though, you don't have a mustache." She replies, making absolutely no sense to Boone. Mustache? Was she referring to Manny? Whatever, it didn't matter to him. "There another guy I should know about, or should I just throw out that whole tip altogether?" She continues, flicking the ash off the end of her cigarette before placing it back on her lips.
"You're probably looking for Manny Vargas. He's the day shift." Boone spits out, hoping that'll get her to turn around and head back where she came from. She nods, accepting the information, but stays where she is.
"You're the night shift then?" She quirks a brow, that damned smile still on her face. Boone sighs roughly, beyond irritated, and the woman puts her hands up in a mock surrender, grin refusing to fade. "Just making friendly conversation." She says.
"I don't have friends here." Boone replies, crossing his arms.
"Well," She says, glint in her eye, "I'm not from here."
It hits Boone then, that this woman might be the exact opportunity he's been looking for, and he takes a moment to actually look the stranger over. She has a bob of red hair, surprisingly brushed and styled, an odd thing in the wasteland. Freckles dust her cheeks, soft brown eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Her faded blue dress is relatively clean aside from some road dust, but torn and muddy at the bottom hem, like she'd done a great deal of travelling in it. Thick leggings and boots show at the edge of her skirt, and she has a leather bag slung over her shoulder as well. There was also a double string of what looked like real pearls around her neck, probably worth a fortune, and Boone found himself wondering how this woman hadn't been killed just for those. The .357 Magnum revolver holstered at her side answered that question. But what really caught Boone's attention, were the bandages wrapped around her forehead, fresh and clean like they'd just been changed. Head injury, maybe? Great, his first real shot at getting some answers, and she might have a damned concussion. Regardless, she was his best option. He'd have to work with what he had.
"No… No you're not, are you? Maybe you shouldn’t go. Not just yet." Boone says, and the stranger quirks an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued by his change of heart.
"Why is that?" She asks, and god, does this woman ever stop with the damn smiling?
"I need someone I can trust. You're a stranger. That's a start." He explains roughly, and the woman just grins wider and gives him this… look.
"You only trust strangers?" She asks, an amused tone to her voice.
"I said it was a start." Boone snaps back, then continues. "This town… nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore."
"What do you want me to do?" The woman asks then, seemingly restraining herself from asking him why that was.
"I want you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try." Boone mentally prepares himself for a moment for what he's about to tell this complete stranger, and opens his mouth again. "My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch." He says, and the woman's smile vanishes immediately, a serious expression taking its place. Boone continues. "They knew when to come and what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who."
"You're trying to track down your wife?" The stranger asks quietly, sounding sympathetic, and Boone's frown deepens.
"My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her." He explains, and the woman looks at him, confused.
"How do you know your wife is dead?"
"I know, alright? And that's all you need to know." She continues to look at him oddly, and then shakes the hand holding the forgotten cigarette, apparently having burned down enough to begin hurting her fingers. Flicking it down to the floor, she stomps it out with a foot, and then surprises Boone by reaching back down to pick it back up and deposits it in a pocket, probably to dispose of later.
"Alright, what do I do if I find this person?" She asks, apparently wise enough not to pursue that topic any further.
"Bring him out in front of the nest here while I'm on duty. I work nights. I'll give you my NCR beret to put on. It'll be our signal, so I know you're standing with him." Boone says. "And I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself."
"You're going to kill them?" She asks, oddly calm for having put that together.
"You got a problem with that?" He barks back, practically challenging her.
"No." She says smoothly, as if trying to calm him. "It’s what people who support slavery deserve." Boone is surprised by that response, but glad they were on the same page all the same. "I'll see what I can do to help you out." She finishes, and Boone nods.
"Good." He says, reaching up and slipping off his beret, handing it to her. "I'll make it worth your while." The woman goes to turn around and leave, until Boone speaks up again. "And one more thing. We shouldn't speak again. Not until it's over. No one in town knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know. Or the Legion will be after me next."
"Guess I better get to work then." She says, looking down in the beret in her hands before turning on her heel and slipping back out the door into the night.
The woman only keeps Boone waiting a few hours before he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. When he looks down he sees her, red hair and all, walking alongside the gate beneath the dinosaur. Seeing her doesn't surprise him, it's who is trailing behind her. It takes a moment to recognize who it is in the dark, but when Boone does, he sucks in a breath. Jeannie May Crawford. Of course it was her.
"It’s just over here." The stranger says to her, and stops, allowing Jeannie May to pass her. The woman then reaches into her pocket, drawing out the red beret, and slips it on her head. That's when Boone knows for sure.
"I don't see anything out here." Jeannie May says, unaware it's the last words she'll ever speak as Boone readies his rifle.
"Just give it a moment." The woman replies, turning and beginning to walk away. Boone's finger hovers over the trigger as he lines up his sights, and the shot rings out in the air. The woman doesn't even look back over her shoulder as Jeannie May slumps to the group where she stood, instead continuing to walk back towards the road out of sight.
It's a few minutes before Boone hears the door creak open behind him, and he turns to the woman he knows will be standing behind him.
"That's it, then. How did you know?" He asks.
"I found a bill of sale." She says, reaching into her dress pocket and handing it to him, along with his beret. Boone takes both from her, and after slipping his beret back on he looks the note over. By the time he's read it his hands are gripping the page so hard it's crinkling the paper, and Boone crunches it up in his hands, stuffing it into a pocket.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be like them to keep paperwork." He says, and reaches into a different pocket, pulling out the bag of caps and the extra beret he kept there, and holds both out to her. "Here. This is all I can give. I think our dealings are done here."
"What will you do after this?" The woman asks, voice edged with something that almost sounds like… concern, as she looks over the caps and beret before tucking them into her bag.
"I don’t know. I won’t be staying, I know that. Don't see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries." He admits. "Maybe I'll wander, like you."
"Are you an outlaw now?" There's sympathy on her face, and Boone pretends not to notice.
"No. People die out there. Often enough that no one worries about blame. They're too anxious to forget it happened in the first place, I guess." He says. "Besides. I was on break when it happened." He cracks, deadpan, and the woman gives a quiet laugh, seemingly surprised by his little joke.
"If that's the case, you could come with me." She starts, surprising Boone with the offer. Swinging her bag fully off her shoulder, she begins rummaging around in it, as if looking for something. "To be honest, I actually pissed off the Legion pretty bad, and they've been sending people after me. I could use the backup." She pulls out a pack of cigarettes as she finishes, and Boone watches her, skeptical that the Legion would care so much about this one woman.
"What did you do?" He asks, unbelieving, and the stranger just shrugs as she shakes out a fresh cigarette and brings it to her lips.
"Killed some guy in Nipton wearing a wolf hat. Vulpes, I think one of them called him? Apparently he was important, and now they're sending assassins after me. So rude. The Legion really doesn't know how to treat a woman." She says, smiling at her own joke while she pulls out a lighter and flicks it open to ignite her cigarette. Boone's jaw almost drops. This woman killed Vulpes Inculta? The leader of the Frumentarii?
"You're joking." He snaps. There was no way…
"No? Why, do you know who he was?" She takes a long drag then, and continues. "When I came up through Nipton, I found him and some legionaries had slaughtered the townspeople. I couldn't just let them get away with that. Plus, the guy practically dared me to attack them. Arrogant asshole." She flicks at her cigarette, and Boone just stands there in shock, processing this. Nipton had been wiped out? Vulpes was dead? Who exactly is this woman?
"But you didn't answer my question." She cuts into Boone's thought process, smile returning to her face. "Want to tag along with me?"
"You don't want to do that." He says, not elaborating why. The woman just raises an eyebrow again.
"Really? 'Cause I'd sure appreciate the company. Plus, you'd get to kill a lot more Legion than you would sitting up in this dinosaur." She grins wider. "I thought snipers worked in teams."
That gets Boone thinking. Together they could probably take on more Legion than they ever could alone. Not to mention that it was never a bad thing to have someone watching your back. And if this woman really did have Legion assassins coming after her…
"Hnh. Yeah. Working on your own, you're a lot less effective. I've been there and paid for it." He thinks aloud. "But this isn't gonna end well." He warns her, finally making up his mind. "Fine. Let's get out of here."
"Good." She smiles, and extends a hand to him. "You can call me Six." She says, looking at him calmly, and Boone doesn't react at first, just staring her down. Eventually, he raises a hand as well, taking hers and giving it a rough shake.
"Boone."