Open Season

4 - Indebted

Cait decided not to overlook the fact that her companion had attempted to open up to her. Even as they continued to travel, sweating and bleeding and struggling through the Commonwealth together; even as Cait continued to wake up sweating and aching at night, needing a shot – even two shots – of psycho and nothing else mattered; even as they spent as much time in silence as they did snapping at each other... Cait couldn't quite forget that she'd learned something about the other woman.

Bianca was a woman with a history, a storyline, someone that Cait realized she had known before she even met her. She was the imposing, soothing voice on the radio, the slayer of the Commonwealth's bogeyman, one of the reasons that the Combat Zone inhabitants had been that much happier in the month before they were wiped out. If they hadn't been that happy, rejoicing the death of the Institute, they probably would have thrown Cait out or killed her with impossible odds in the ring. She'd been in the Combat Zone for three years, and she'd known the Raiders were becoming tired of her upper hand in the arena. Technically, Bianca had saved Cait's ass before they even met. Therefore, technically, Cait should be thankful. She hadn't quite gotten there yet, as the other woman's silence and snappishness put her off. But she hadn't forgotten. Maybe Bianca hadn't really noticed the reduction in complaints during their journey, the extra effort Cait put in during battles, the increased use of muttered "sorry's" and "thank you's" rather than righteousness or swearing, but all of it was evidence of Cait's backing down and accepting the presence of her new companion.

And she hadn't thought once about running away again. Despite the amount of danger they'd gotten into within a month now, Cait felt safe with Bianca. The woman tried to act noncommittal and indifferent of her existence, but still she took care of her. Bianca had swiped a sleeping bag for Cait somewhere along their journey so she had somewhere to sleep other than the hard floor; she'd always split the caps evenly, though she probably knew Cait would use it all on chems; she'd saved Cait's ass countless times during battle, dragging her to safety, using precious stimpacks on her wounds. It was all getting rather comfortable. Weirdly comfortable, in a way that Cait had never, ever been. She was used to sudden change, being blindsided by the buyers of her contract. Honestly, she was still waiting for something from Bianca, something that would knock the wind out of her and remind her of the disappointment that she was. Deserving of the worst, as her father used to say.

It still hadn't come.

Which was why, after weeks more of following Bianca and her dog through the Commonwealth, working by her side, Cait finally worked up the courage to talk to her about it, eye to eye. The way a rational, truly confident person would do. The way that someone as falsely confident as Cait would find it hard to do.

It was a Wednesday during the first week of August and they were spending the night out in the open, camping beneath one of the great crumbled highways. In unison, they'd gone about the routine of setting up camp: Cait had unrolled their sleeping bags and set about cleaning weapons and counting ammunition; skill-less jobs that she knew she could carry out to the highest of her ability. Bianca had built the fire and gone on patrol to set some traps, Dogmeat at her heels. When she returned, she removed her boots, her bandana and her glasses, and sat opposite Cait on the other side of the fire. 

It was only a week after they'd visited the Castle that Bianca had grown confident enough to uncover her face completely when in Cait's presence. Perhaps she was no longer seen as a threat. Maybe, even though Cait did sometimes try her best to be annoying, she had proven herself to be more than just an arrogant cage-fighter. 

As usual, Cait found herself drawn to look at the woman's face. It wasn't the sort of face that should ever be covered. It was too interesting and way too striking: high cheekbones, full lips, elegant eyebrows over hazel eyes. It was the sort of face that in the pre-war world might have fit on the cover of one of those beauty magazines. Even smeared with blood and dust, those features still looked almost imposingly beautiful. What Cait had seen of the long, lean lines and soft curves of her body were attractive, too. Cait wondered just why the hell Bianca didn't try to use her good looks to her advantage instead of covering them up. It was pretty enjoyable travelling with such an attractive woman, especially since Cait wasn't a stranger to members of the same sex. She'd never quite gotten close enough to another woman to truly explore the idea of "making love". With men, it was "fucking", and not often pleasant; she figured that with women, it was more of a sensual, loving experience. Then again, Cait didn't know how to do love. She didn't know how to do soft, or soothing. All she knew was hard, rough, fast – and she knew it well. It was something she was looking forward to, if she ever managed to get into Bianca's pants. On a usual day like today, where Cait would throw occasional flirtatious comments her way and the woman would bat them aside with mostly-disguised embarrassment, Cait wondered if someday the toying might get somewhere.