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Jesus Christ, Six’s head hurt. It felt like a bullet to the brain. Well. It didn’t. Six could attest to that feeling worse. But still, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
Maybe a jackhammer to the skull would be a more appropriate description. Really anything loud and fast. Bighorner stampede. Yeah. That’s a good one. She should write it down.
Trying to get out of bed seemed like a mistake the instant Six moved her head.
What happened last night? She was in the Lucky 38, which was good. Hadn’t gotten hammered in the Wrangler again, thank her lucky stars.
Where was Cass?
***
“Hey, Six,” Cass’ words slurred together, and Six could smell the whiskey on her breath as she leaned forward, “you’re quite a catch, you know that?”
“Uh, thanks?” Six was quite glad she hadn’t drank as much as Cass, sticking to the weird cocktails that House had everything for. Was he into little fruity drinks? Actually, she’d seen that portrait of him in his golfing gear. He so drank little fruity drinks, “do you think-“
Cass put her finger on Six’s lips, “shhh… you’re hot.”
Six could feel heat crawling up her face, and she couldn’t even open her mouth, with Cass’ finger right there.
Oh no.
***
Six blinked, groaning at seeing the bright lights when she opened her eyes again. What- did Cass-
Ohhh Cass had so better remember this. Six would die if Cass didn’t remember this.
She didn’t think- she didn’t even think that Cass liked women??
Speak of the Devil.
Cass staggered into the room, hand pressed against her forehead, “that’s the most I’ve drank in a while.”
Six blinked at her, “how much do you remember?”
“Uh- we played pool. And did fireball? And then. Nothing.”
Six bit her lip, and pushed herself up into a crossed leg sit, “you don’t remember what we discussed?”
Cass shook her head, and then groaned, signifying that that was a poor move.
“You’re like me,” Six tried to smile, and pointed at the gunshot scar that sat upon there temple.
“I remember my name, at least.”
“You sure about that, Johannes?”
Cass stared at her, “I’m too hungover for this.”
“Maybe you’ll remember after a drink”
Cass groaned, “I don’t think I can stomach another”
“Water, doofus,” Six giggled.
Cass did not remember after a drink. Or a day. Or a week. Or ever.
Six never brought it up. Never the time, she said to herself. Even after the Battle of Hoover Dam, and the celebration. She just. Couldn’t ever get the words out of her throat.