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A Gift for Sunny (Fallout NV Fart Story)

Summary:

A courier washed up in Goodsprings makes a homemade meal for the girl that taught him survival skills.
It doesn't sit well with her stomach.

"So, I think it's done... It looks done."

The gecko steak sizzled in the pan, overflowing in its rich juices. Andrew carefully picked it up and laid it in a meticulously cleaned metal container, taking care not to burn his hands. He hadn't experienced a lot of hunting before. When he was a courier, he simply chose to buy food from the places he visited. 

"Sampling the tastes of the world!" he called it, even though it was Brahmin steak and mutated fruit ninety percent of the time. Foraging for himself however was very rare. The maximum extent of his "survivalism" was picking a mesquite pod from time to time. That is, until he reached Goodsprings one day.

 There was this Chip, and a robot... His memory was quite fuzzy relating to that. Apparently he was shot in the head and patched up by the town doctor. There was this girl who helped him get back on his feet, and it was thanks to her he had managed to learn basic survival skills. Andrew wanted to thank her for her help, and what better way to do it than by using the skills she taught him?

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"I'll have a sarsaparilla, Trudy."

"I wouldn't have guessed you'd ask for that!"

Sunny had a recognizable routine- every Friday would have her sitting at the Prospector Saloon with Cheyenne, happily drinking a cold Sunset Sarsaparilla while listening to the jukebox. It felt quite relaxing to just sit and lay back for a moment. Her mind steadily drifted to that stranger who had drifted into town a few days ago. 

Nasty head wound, she swore he'd be sent back into that grave from what the townspeople said. But he pulled through. Maybe she should give the Doc some more credit. She remembered how she taught him the ropes around the town. He looked so pitiful trying to hold up that rifle, bless his heart.

Nearly shot a Bighorner before she helped guide the barrel. But something about it was endearing to her, helping a weak man like him get his bearings. It was... cute, perhaps.

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"Oh, uh, hi Trudy!"

"Hello!"

Andrew stumbled in through the door, treading very carefully as to not damage his gift. He had a sort of anxiousness about him as he walked around the saloon. Giving something to the person who helped you out of a rut is a very important deal, and the thought of messing it up was in the back of his mind. He found Sunny, with her back against the wall next to the old jukebox. 

There was a feeling in him, a feeling of, say, attraction to the girl. Andrew admired her caring and protective attitude, even towards those who weren't strong like himself. And she didn't look too shabby either. That short, neatly tied red hair, her beautiful eyes, and her perky bottom in those tight leather pants... But he was getting too far ahead of himself. This is just a thank-you gift, isn't it?

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"Back again, huh?

"Oh, uh, yeah. I was going to give you something..."

Andrew slowly pulled out the tin from his pack. The light peering through the windows danced on the metallic container, almost making him cover his eyes from the brightness. Sunny picked it from his hands and opened the top.

"Well, I was thinking about how you had done a lot for me recently, and I couldn't just let you go away without any compensation, so, I, made this for you."