Conquerors

Chapter 13

We pass the Fizztop Grill, stopping by Gage's suite to drop off my belongings. I tell Codsworth to stay here, but he stays near me. Gage steps out for a moment.

"Um... Mum... These look like the people in Concord that tried to kill me." He says, concern in his voice.

"They're not the same people," I say quietly. "You have nothing to worry about. I am the boss, here."

"The boss? How did you manage to pull a management position?" He asks with surprise.

"I'll tell you later. It's a long story." I say, touching his round, metallic back.

"Sounds good, mum." He responds, his cheerful voice returning.

"Stay here for now," I instruct.

"Can I clean, mum? Please! This place is filthy." He shrieks.

"Yes. But don't throw anything out without Gage's permission."

"Righteo, mum. I will dust and scrub the floors for now."

"Thank you, Codsworth."

I sling my bag over my shoulder, dumping various items onto his bed, where I'm going to be sleeping. Amongst the boxes of ammo and stimpaks are some of my prewar clothes that somehow survived, the bowl for Dogmeat, and some wire. Gage carried the heavier gear.

I put them on an empty shelf amongst Gage's belongings, setting the bowl on the floor and pouring some purified water in it. I sit on the bed, waiting for him to come back. A radio plays music softly in the background. I listen closely, faintly recognizing the tune.

I sigh, plopping back on the bed. Gage returns a moment later, his eyes lingering on me.

"Someone's made themself comfy." He retorts.

"This place is surprisingly cozy."

He furrows his brow. "Were you expecting something different?"

"No, no," I say quickly, realizing I've offended him. "I was expecting some of the same decor as outside."

"I don't stoop to the level of some of those animals. Stumbling around, piss drunk, shooting up whatever they can crush and melt." He says with disdain. "That was one thing I was on Colter's case about. But he was into all that shit, too."

"You wanna clean things up around here?" I ask.

"Well, I just want the gangs to be at peace. Can't make solid plans if you can't be within ten feet of each other."

"Jet would be a good start. Less adrenaline might make for less fighting. Some drugs have calming effects and we could probably use those to our advantage." I explain.

"Yer onto somethin', boss." He says, pulling off his yellow armour. He tosses it onto a chair, leaving his boots on the floor beside it. He slips out of his green tank top, dropping it in a basket. He plops on the couch, cracking open a Nuka Cola.

I peer discreetly at his body, studying his tattoos with curiosity.

"Like what you see?" He snickers a moment later.

"Uhm..." I begin, snapping my eyes up to his face. "I like your tattoo. What is it?"

"Skull and crossbones. Got it at some sketchy shack in Diamond City 'bout ten years back." He says. "Got a gnarly infection in it that took a week to get better. The tattoo shack got raided by security and they got shut down for chem smugglin' not long after. Ya got any?"

"No, but I always wanted one," I respond.

"What stopped ya?" He asks.

"Women in my time didn't get tattoos. We didn't even wear pants. We had no freedom and the laws against us were restrictive. Are things still the same?"

"Absolutely fuckin' not, boss. Women do whatever the hell they want!" He says.

I feel the excitement build inside me.

"Boss, what did you wanna do before the war that ya weren't allowed to do?"

"I wanted to get a tattoo, dye my hair purple, get drunk, and pierce my ears." I list.

"We can do all of those things tonight. Starting with getting drunk. Let's get started." He says, patting the spot on the couch beside him. "Get your gear off and put on something comfortable."

"All of my clothes are uncomfortable. They're dresses." I say with a huff.

"Alright, hold on." He groans, standing up. He walks over to his closet. He roots through some clothes, grabbing a light-coloured piece of fabric. He tosses it to me. "Go put it on."

I get up, walking behind the couch where a curtain is hanging. I hold up the clothes. It's a beige T-shirt and black cloth shorts that tie in the front, both of which are too big for me. I pull them on, tying the shorts as tight as they can go. I smooth my shirt with my palms, looking at myself in the cracked mirror on the wall. They are a little baggy, but they don't look bad. I set my clothes on the bed and sit back beside Gage on the couch.

"Thank you. These clothes really are comfortable." I tell him.

"Anytime, boss. I don't mind sharin' with you." He responds, nudging my arm lightly with his elbow.

He reaches beside the couch and grabs a bottle of vodka, and a couple of shot glasses. He unscrews the cap and pours some of the clear liquid into both glasses. He hands one to me.

"Bottoms up, boss." He says, lifting his glass. He tips it back, drinking it in one swig.

I lift it, the strong smell hitting me before the liquor hits my tongue. It goes down smooth, but my throat quickly feels too hot. I cough, shuddering as it goes down. The heat slowly dissipates, spreading warmth across my chest.

"Like it?" He asks.

"No," I respond. "Can I mix it with something?"

"Take your pick. This entire park is full of chasers." He responds.

"Even Nuka Cola Orange?" I ask.

"Yes. Got some right here." He says, tossing a bottle of obnoxiously orange liquid to me. I catch it, turning the bottle over in my hands and peering down at the faded, torn label. That's Nuka Cola Orange, alright. I wipe the top on my shirt before popping the cap off. To my surprise, it still fizzes.

I take another shot, chasing it with the Nuka Cola. It still has a crisp bite. The pop helps it go down smoother. After a couple more shots I begin to feel tingly and giddy. I lean my head back, watching as the world slowly begins to spin.

"Yer feelin' it." He says with a chuckle. "Yer a lightweight. Gonna have to keep an eye on you."

"I don't plan on doing this often." I respond.

"You can do what ya want. Yer the boss." He says with a shrug.

Codsworth passes us, using his vacuum attachment to suck up dirt and dust on the floor. He pauses as he vacuums around Gage's boots.

"Yer robot is cleanin'?" Gage asks.

"Yes. I bought him before the war. Nate and I needed some help keeping up with chores after Shaun was born." I explain. "He turned out to be a great companion and somehow lasted during my time in the vault so he was waiting loyally for me to get back."

"Mum, I will go wherever you want me to." Codsworth responds absentmindedly, distracted by a glob of mud stuck to Gage's boots.

"That's awesome. Clean whatever ya want, buddy." Gage says to Codsworth.

"I think this arrangement will work." Codsworth responds.