Mishi's Journal of Stuff

"Are you kidding me babe? Another charity case?"

"Butch, how many times do we have to have this argument? Y-you know most people c-can't afford to, to pay much and rewards aren't how we make most of our money…"

It's the same old argument. Butch's position: be more selfish! Toni's position: Fuck no! She's honestly getting tired of it. She has the moral high ground! Why is this so difficult to get through his thick skull?

"You run around the wasteland doing anything anyone asks for nothing in return, hell, yeah we're having this fight again! Ooooh, look at me, I'm the Lone Wanderer, I'm little miss goodie-two-shoes, I'll do anything you want! Shine your shoes? No problem! Deliver your packages? No job is too small! Singlehandedly storming a fortress fulla raiders? It's an honor to die for your lousy little cause!"

"O-oh, real mature, Deloria. I'm right and you know it and it's not because I'm a, a, a goodie-two-shoes!

"Oh, I just looove following allllll the rules and being a huge sucker! I would never do anything so self-serving as to ask what the risks and rewards are before I take on a job, that would be bad! And I'm never bad! I'm just a Little. Goodie. Two-shoes."

He's right in her face for that last bit and, oh, that's it.

It's such a ridiculous insult! And untrue, to boot! Has he not seen her kill raiders without hesitation and loot bodies without no outward signs of disgust? Has she not proven, amply, that she can and will kill in self defence? She's as tough as she needs to be. And since when is kindness a bad thing anyway?!

She suppresses the urge to smack him and takes a deep breath. Then, low and cold:

"Okay Butch. You wanna see bad? I'll show you bad."

So after practically throwing the dog at Moira, she dragged Butch southwest ignoring his protests and questions. They stand at the gates of Tenpenny Tower.

"You finally gonna tell me what the hell we're doing here?" he asks.

She gives him her best devious smile. "We're going to rob the shit out of every last one of these bastards."

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Unfortunately, it doesn't take Butch long to figure out what's up.

"Is there a single person in this building who's not a giant pile of shit?" He asks as they ride the elevator up to the penthouse apartments.

"There is one. Herbert 'Daring' Dashwood. We'll leave him alone, he's a nice old guy."

"Watch out, we got a badass over here." Butch sniggers. "Stealing from these assholes is almost a public service! We gonna give the loot to the poor and downtrodden too? And skip off to join Robin Hood and his Merry Men?"

"N-No, we're going to keep the loot to sell to Moira." Toni rolls her eyes, hoping her expression of annoyance will communicate to him that it is time to stop mocking her. But of course he never learns.

"Oh, what a rebel!" He exclaims, then scoffs: "What an angel."

"Would you shut the f-fuck up for once?" She hisses as the elevator doors open. The security guard gives her a nod when she walks past, bold as brass, and turns a corner to knock on Herbert Dashwood's door, knowing he's at the bar at this time of day. She makes noises indicating they're being let in and then moves to the neighbor's door.

Butch knows how to act on a con, naturally, and thankfully remains silent as she picks the lock to the Wellington's apartment. It's a difficult lock, and she breaks two bobby pins, but damned if she's going to ask help from her partner in crime, even if he's probably better at picking locks than her. He does tacitly offer her his help after the second pin breaks, but she glares at him, and he returns her look with an amused smirk. She turns her attention back to the lock, and soon has it open.

The two enter soundlessly and start canvassing the apartment. It's a large one, with three rooms, not counting a private bathroom and closet both connected to the bedroom, but, though Tenpenny Tower is well-maintained and quite lavish compared to the other surviving pre-war buildings, it still falls short of pre-war standards. The wallpaper is ancient and faded, and the furniture old and beat-up, and naturally neither of the two delusional people who live in this apartment would lower themselves to clean. Oh, and the lock on their safe is laughable: she's already pocketing their caps while Butch looks for valuables.

And then she hears the door open in the other room, and their voices, loud and shrill in the perpetual Wellington argument. Shit! They're going to get caught! Normally she would have thought this heist through a little better, but she sort of decided on the robbery on impulse. Butch seems to bring out that side of her. Just another thing she should watch out for.

She doesn't know what to do. There's no other escape route. They'll have to hide. She rushes into the closet, backwards, dragging Butch in with her by the collar of his shirt.

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He closes the door and it locks behind him, just as she's noticing how little space she has. Junk is piled up high in the back of the closet, empty Nuka-Cola crates, suitcases, old clothes, even broken pool cues, the tallest of which is poking her in the back as she tries to maintain her balance. Because most of the floor is occupied by this trash, her legs are nearly occupying the exact same space as his.

An old hunting rifle is propped up in the corner, and their jostling nudges it loose and it ends up knocking her thigh. The impact isn't much, but it startles her and she starts to fall backwards - but with a hand at her back, Butch catches and steadies her. She's grateful for it, but now there's barely an inch of space between them. It feels a bit like they're slow-dancing, an impression not helped when he leans in and whispers in her ear: "What now, boss?"

She can just about hear the smirk on his face. Bastard. What the hell's he so calm about?

"What do you mean, what now?" She hisses back. "We keep quiet and hope they don't find us, d-dumbass." She starts to reach behind her for the pool cue, trying to gently move it aside. She doesn't want to be stuck in this tiny space any longer than necessary, but she's preparing for the possibility that they could be here for a while.

"Pretty crummy plan if you ask me. They're gonna find us. 'Specially if you keep fidgeting."

The Wellingtons would indeed find them, she knows. They're self-absorbed and not too bright, but even they would be bound to notice something fishy about their closet eventually, and when they do, Toni would be lucky if she and Butch escape Tenpenny Tower with their lives. So far, though, judging from the noise outside, they haven't noticed a damn thing. "I'm not fidgetting! And I don't see you getting any bright ideas."

"As a matter'o'fact, I got a great one! We should make out."

"What???!" Toni's grip on the pool cue slips and it raps against the wall with a sharp sound. Worse, it sounds as though the Wellington's argument paused. The whole apartment stays silent for a moment. Then Mrs. Wellington resumes her harangue, having apparently decided the noise she heard wasn't important.

Toni, having not dared to breathe during that long pause, draws in a lungful of air, and expels it in an angry hiss. What she can't express in volume, she makes up with feeling. "This is no time to be f-fucking around!" Literally. "We are this close to being found out!"

"I mean, pretend to make out. Trust me, babe, it'll work." There's not a shred of uncertainty in his voice.

"Just what will work? How does tonsil hockey get us out of here in one piece?!"

"Okay first of all, gross. Who taught you that kinda language?"

She's going to strangle him. The temptation is so strong she can already imagine how his neck will break in her hands.

"Look, ain't no way we don't get busted here. But if we play our cards right, it don’t have to be robbery we get busted for. See what I mean?"

She hates to admit it, but it makes a certain amount of sense. "You're saying they'll be too embarrassed to suspect we broke in for any other reason."

"You got it, doll. Nobody will look twice if they think we're just a couple'a horny idiots."

She resists her kneejerk response to say 'you're a horny idiot', and instead, she nods. They could probably take the Wellingtons, and maybe even all the security guards in Tenpenny Tower for that matter, but she doesn't want to hurt anyone. And his is the safest plan she could think of. She walked straight into a minefield to help Moira with her book. She can definitely endure a kiss from Butch for the sake of avoiding bloodshed. It won't be pleasant, of course, but she's been through worse. Yes, this is just another day in the life of the Lone Wanderer, Hero of the-

"Toni?"

It's dark in the closet, but what she can make out from his expression is a lot less infuriatingly smug than she expected. She would even call it earnest. And she realizes he's waiting for her to say the word. He didn't realize she was nodding and he's not going to kiss her unless she says yes.

So, glad of the darkness concealing her blush, she gives the word. "Okay. Do-"

He starts speaking at the same time: "Or if for some reason you ain't keen on it, we can always wait til they're right at the door..."

It's probably unfair of her to be so surprised by his insistence on her consent, but regardless, there's no time to express her thanks.

"No! Hurry up and kiss me! We can't risk them not buying it."

His hand tilts her chin up to a better angle and there's the glint of that crooked smirk in the gloom. "I'm gonna remember you said that."

And his lips are on hers, before she can retort. Despite the mischievous tone of his last retort, it begins much more gently than she expects, with a light, almost tender pressure on her lips. Sweet of him to start so slowly, but if the plan is going to work, this won't cut it. Awkwardly leaned back as she is, she can't push against him, but she grabs his jacket and commits to the kiss, pulling him down further against her mouth. It's not an ideal position, but she's surprised by how safe she feels in his arms, how much she trusts him not to let her fall. This feels... nice... weirdly natural, in fact, in a way that her previous kisses, full of awkwardness and nerves, definitely weren't. So when he runs his tongue across her lips, seeking access, she opens up her mouth to him. He immediately takes full advantage of the opportunity. The pressure on her lips, the warmth in her mouth is overpowering. In response, she grips his jacket tighter and kisses him back. She's not prepared for his retaliation. The hand at her back slides down to the hollow of her spine as his tongue reaches deeper. The sensation sends a shudder through her, and it's a good thing he's holding her because it feels as though her legs might give out. This isn't a fake kiss, he didn't have to go so far if it was just for show. She's nearly forgotten about the Wellingtons. It feels like they've been locking lips for an eternity. Butch kisses like he knows what he's doing. Oh, does he ever. His fingers draw little circles on her lower back, his teeth nibble at her lower lip. A talented and experienced kisser, and he's doing his best to make her melt.

Then suddenly there's an explosion of light as the door opens, and Herbert "Daring" Dashwood grins down knowingly at a disheveled young couple.

"Well if it ain't little Miss 101 and her young man!"

Butch's teeth release their gentle grip on Toni's lower lip. Toni's hands, which had boldly slipped underneath his T-shirt, now shove him away. She turns Nuka-Cola truck red at Dashwood's words.

"Now, don't you fret, Missy, I got no leg to stand on criticizin' yer choice of love nests."

"I, we, ohhhh my god I can't believe we just did that." Toni stammers, hardly needing to put on an act.

As Dashwood leads them out of the apartment, she steals a glance at Butch and is not surprised to see him grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

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The Wellingtons had not mentioned nor seemed to notice, during Toni and Butch's walk of shame, the 150 or so caps that she had stolen. So, despite all that had happened, the heist was technically a success.

But it doesn't feel much like a success. She got angry, failed to adequately prepare for her heist, botched the getaway, and, to top it off, was caught necking in a closet by one of her heroes. And on the most basic level, instead of teaching Butch a lesson, she allowed him to take control of the situation.

They're walking back to Megaton in silence, Toni leading the way because she doesn't want to see his dumb face.

"Okay, you convinced me. I'm sorry I called you a goodie-two-shoes," she hears him say.

She rolls her eyes. "D-don't patronize me."

With just a few jaunty strides he's walking by her side. It's a sure bet he's about to say something stupid.

"I'm serious! Havin' your first kiss in a stranger's closet during a con? Doll, you're a bad girl."

There it is.

"It was your idea! And, and I only went along with it because I d-didn't want anyone to get hurt. If… if anything, that just proves I'm willing to sacrifice myself for the greater good."

He's won this one. She might as well admit defeat.

"Sacrifice? Are you shitting me? I'm tryin' to apologize here!"

"Oh, sorry, did I hurt your pr-precious ego?"

"I don't care about - I mean, yeah, I-" he stops, and puts a hand to his face, growling in frustration. Normally he either acts like her insults don't bother him or he snarks right back. It's rare to get him so mad he can't think of a comeback. In her opinion, she hasn't said anything to warrant this response, but hey. At least one thing's gone right today. 

She'll add a bit more fuel to the fire.

"And what makes you think that was my first kiss?"

To her gratification, it does send him spiralling a bit, but not for long.

"That wasn't your-? Who was-? Look, you need to stop doing that sacrifice garbage."

"You mean, stop kissing you? Already done."

"I'm sayin' stop acting like you're not as important as anyone else!" he shouts. "We're Tunnel Snakes. We're partners, you're… you're at least as valuable as me. No, that ain't right. You're important to - you're the big bad Lone Wanderer, you're important to everyone in this hellscape of a place! You don't need ta sacrifice anything for anyone."

What is happening right now? The argument's gone in a totally different direction than she was expecting. "Butch, are you-"

"I ain't sayin' you oughta do bad shit… I mean, even I got standards. I said we should make out 'cause I didn't wanna have to fight my way outta there either. I just… if it comes down to you or someone else, even a bunch of other people… save yourself."

Oh. Oh. So all this time, that's what it was about? He's concerned about her? No, no, no why is she blushing just because of that, stop that. This isn't even the first time he's shown concern for her, there's no need for it!

"You know I can't promise that." she says quietly, looking downward.

Butch lets out a sigh. "That's what I figured."

"...Goodie-two-shoes," he adds.

She whaps him hard in the arm, giving him a dirty look.

"Yeah, you're definitely bad, babe. Good girls don't hit so hard."

She hits him again.

"See what I mean? You're terrible!"