Chapter Text
My heart stays hurtin' and hands stay workin'
And I'm still just a sinnin' man
I've tried like hell to keep my health
Treat others well and understand
While life's unfair, uncertain and mean
In The Great American Bar Scene
Vi squinted at the woman who had just walked in. There weren’t many people in town that Vi didn’t recognize at first glance, and of those, she recognized them all on the second. This truly was a stranger. They didn’t get a lot of people just passing through Zaun.
The woman was dressed in light jeans, worn looking canvas shoes, and a linen shirt worn open over a fitted black tank. Her hair was pulled away from her face, tucked up under a faded pink ball cap. Vi couldn’t quite make out the color of her eyes as they darted around the bar, taking everything in, resting briefly where they had a dart board and a beat up pool table pushed off to the side. Her eyes met Vi’s, the distance between them stretching for miles.
The stranger’s long legs ate up the floor between them until all that was between them was the bar top. Her eyes were blue.
Vi spoke first. “What’ll it be?” The woman’s features were sharp, the shadows from the brim of her cap doing little to soften the dramatic angles of her cheekbones and jaw.
“Beer. Cheap.” She turned her head to look down the bar, eyeing the dart board again. The ponytail pulled through the cap was brown, twinged with something else. She looked back at Vi, nodding her head in thanks as she picked up the bottle Vi had slid her.
“Cheap, as promised.” The stranger snorted, pulling her wallet out as she took a swig from the bottle, cringing.
“Definitely cheap. No tab tonight, I’m afraid.” A distinct accent slipped through, though the stranger choked it back by the end of her short sentence. The woman’s long fingers barely brushed against Vi’s as money changed hands, but her fingers jerked back like she’d been burned when she felt the contact with Vi. Vi tried to catch her eye, but she was looking at the dart board again. “Does anyone play?” Vi shrugged.
“Go over and start throwing, someone will show up.” It was a Friday night, just past dinner time. People were starting to loosen up. The woman walked over, and Vi watched her pull a slim case out of her pocket, pulling out her own darts.
Interesting.
They started hitting the board, soft thunks as they sunk in. She was okay. The darts were spread haphazardly across the board, none particularly close to the bullseye, but all at least on it. She pulled them out and did it again, a similar trend with these throws. A third time, and someone had walked up to her.
Vi got pulled away from watching to do her job, which did not include staring at strange women playing darts. When she looked back, the stranger was lining up to throw after the other player had pulled his darts out. Her darts were still spread across the board, but they looked like they could be making a triangle. She kept glancing over while they played, catching a few other people moving in that direction.
The woman won, and money changed hands. She heard a laugh drift through the air, loud and free, and the bar seemed to get warmer.
Business was picking up for the evening, but every time she looked, the stranger was throwing a better game, taking more money from more hands, laughing and pulling people over to play, just to take their money too. The final game, Vi watched all of. With every dart she threw, the look in her eyes got more and more intense, each dart sinking into exactly the spot it needed to to end the game in only 3 rounds. Her opponent was passing her a wad of cash, and she was bowing to the crowd surrounding them. Her opponent, a regular who Vi knew rarely got beaten at darts.
The strange woman had hustled her patrons.
Someone else the woman had beat slid into a barstool in front of Vi. “I tell you what, we all oughta known better when we saw she had her own darts. Seen her before?” Vi shook her head, and the man grunted. She passed him a new drink and turned to grab a rag to clean up a spill she saw on the bar. When she turned back, he was gone, and the woman was there, smiling and showing off a gap between her two front teeth. Vi smiled back, not even realizing her face had moved. She should probably be upset with the stranger, for breezing in the way she did and taking advantage of her people. But was it really taking advantage if they were playing willingly? And was it really so bad if it meant she got to see a beautiful woman smile?
“Beer. Less cheap.” So Vi handed her a beer, less cheap, and this time the woman didn’t cringe drinking it. “Ah, yeah, that’s the stuff.” She pointed a long finger over her shoulder, her eyes following its path along the room. “That guy’s buying this one.” The guy raised his hand in acknowledgment, smiling slightly.
“Hustler, huh?” Vi leaned against the bar and raised a scarred eyebrow. The woman’s smile did little to soften the sharpness of her jaw, only drawing attention to the cut of her cheekbones.
“You could say that.” She pulled her ball cap off, long fingers running through her hair to shake it out of its ponytail. Her hair was patchy brown, her dark roots grown out nearly an inch. A bad dye job. She set the cap in front of her, fingers idly tracing the seams.
“Haven’t seen you around here before.” Vi said casually, belying her rapidly growing need to know this woman’s name
“No, you wouldn’t have.” The woman sipped her beer, pink lips wrapping around the top, her eyes meeting Vi’s as she set it down with a clink on the bar top. Silence stretched between them, almost long enough to reach out and grab, when the woman spoke again. “I’m Catherine. Cate.”
“I’m Vi.” Vi stuck her hand across the bar, offering it to shake. Cate hesitated, but took it, squeezing lightly. Their hands lingered briefly, until Vi was interrupted to do her job. Which did not include gazing into strange women’s eyes and holding their hands for just a little too long.
The rest of the night passed in a blur of noises and faces, the bar packed until last call, when only Cate was left at the bar. Vi passed her a glance, and then turned to dismiss her bar runners. The kitchen staff was long gone.
Vi walked out from behind the bar to stand in front of the woman, leaning against the bar top and crossing her arms. “Still here, huh?” Cate’s hands sat in her lap, fingers twisting together, as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She looked… vulnerable.
Her mouth opened, but she hesitated, clearing her throat. The accent from earlier was back, a soft drawl that slowed down her words and brightened her I’s. “I’ve been, uh, sleeping in my truck. Can I park here for the night, is it safe?”
Vi smiled at her gently. “I know a better place. C’mon, Cate.”
—
Gravel crunched as the truck pulled up beside her, and she heard the door open and slam shut. Metal on metal. Vi walked to the back of the truck, the bed covered by a camper shell, the color not quite matching the paint on the truck, meeting Cate by the tail gate.
Vi recognized the expression on the other woman’s face from the bar, hands twisting in front of her, eyes down on the gravel. Nerves.
“Want to come inside? We’ve got a shower and a couch.” Vi offered, softly. It occurred to her that Cate might not have slept inside in a while. But she didn't want to pry. Didn’t want to send this woman running somewhere worse.
Cate shrugged, but didn’t reply. She popped the tailgate and lifted the door of the camper shell. Her body mostly blocked the view inside, but Vi noticed a sleeping bag on a thin pad pressed against one side. She eyed it, then glanced back at the tall woman next to her, before looking inside again. A tarp in the back, shoved against the cab, covered something lumpy. A guitar case was shoved against it, a duffel bag and a backpack the only other things in the back of the truck.
“Would you take this, please?” Cate had snagged the backpack and was holding it out to Vi. The canvas was worn, but it was otherwise in good shape. Like the truck, it was cared for. Loved. “There’s just a few other things.”
Vi watched Cate climb into the bed of the truck, crawling to the tarp. Her jeans were tight over her ass, and Vi looked away, a lump in her throat.
A long, hard case slid towards the tailgate, followed by a similar one that was half the size. Gun cases.
Cate was shimmying back out of the truck, and Vi kept her eyes fixed on the gun cases, willing herself not to look at Cate. Not to look at the neck of the shirt falling open. Not to look at the long legs clad in tight, ripped denim, swinging to the ground. Not to look at a face carved straight from marble.
Cate misinterpreted, saying, “I’m sorry, but if I’m not sleeping in the truck, they’ll have to come inside.”
“No, I understand. Just didn’t realize.” Vi rubbed at the back of her neck, the prickles from a fresh shave catching on her calluses, grounding. Cate’s lips tightened, her whole face stiffening. Cate turned to grab a case in each hand. Cate’s accent was oddly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Wherever it was from, it wasn’t nearby.
Vi was conscious of the creaking of the porch stairs as they walked up, the railing that bowed out like it was trying to fall off but couldn’t, the screen door clinging to the doorframe. The door behind the screen was already open into the house, soft light shining through. She opened the screen door carefully, letting Cate walk in ahead of her, hands full of weaponry.
The door opened into a hallway, living room to the left and kitchen to the right. Vi nodded into the living room, letting Cate go in first once again. Cate’s shoulders relaxed, taking in the cozy, lived in space. A worn couch that had once been colorful, dimmed by age and use, a quilt folded on the back. An armchair, the cushion sagging in the middle. A well-used coffee table, scratches on the legs but the top shined to perfection. She watched Cate’s eyes flick over everything, resting briefly on a bookshelf littered with photos, before moving on.
Vi walked to the couch, setting down the backpack next to it. When she turned, Cate was still standing in the hallway, looking lost. Gripping the handles of her cases like they might be torn from her at any moment.
“You can set those wherever you like.” Cate nodded, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. She moved to set them behind the armchair, a little bit out of sight. Vi heard footsteps in the hall, and Cate’s shoulders tensed back up as a shadow fell into the room.
“Noticed a new truck in the drive, brought home a friend?” Vander crossed his arms and leaned against the archway, smiling at Cate when he noticed her. “Welcome.” Cate was staring at him, unblinking, her lips twitching and hands twisting.
“Vander, this is Catherine. She just needs a place to sleep for the night. Catherine, this is my dad, Vander.” Vander stepped into the room, offering his hand to Cate, and Cate stepped forward, taking his hand to shake after a split second pause.
“Just Cate is fine, please. I'm sorry, I didn’t realize Vi didn’t live alone. I don’t mean to intrude, I can go.” The words rushed out of Cate, moving faster than her lips. Her hand not in Vander’s was shaking slightly. As soon as Vander released her other, the two met, long fingers twisting around each other, again and again.
“It’s no trouble at all. We have the space, you have a need.” Vi saw Vander’s eyebrows raise as he noticed the gun cases behind the armchair, and Cate’s eyes darted between his and the cases.
More words rushed out of her lips. “They’re locked, the key is hidden. I can’t leave them in the truck.” Vander chuckled, and Vi saw the muscles in Cate’s neck relax again.
“We’ve got a few of our own, I understand. You need anything?” Cate swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at Vi or Vander.
“Honestly, a shower? Laundry, maybe?” She was quiet when she asked, and Vi caught Vander’s eyes. They nodded at the same time.
Vander spoke. “Laundry in the morning, it’s late.” He walked out, leaving the two women behind. Vi offered Cate a smile, but she didn’t get one back.
“C’mon Cate, bathroom’s this way.” Cate grabbed her backpack and followed her down the hall, her eyes darting around to take everything in like they had been doing all night. Vi wondered when the last time Cate had felt totally safe was. Her eyes never seemed to settle, her hands always fidgeting, and her bottom lip looked sore from being worried. She had seemed okay in the crowd at the bar, when she was anonymous and playing darts, but she was not okay now. When they got to the bathroom, Vi handed her a towel, careful not to let their hands brush like they had in the bar.
“There’s stuff in there, I’m going to go set up the couch. Take your time, okay?” Vi closed the door as softly as she could behind her and went back to the living room to get the couch set up.
Vi ran her hand down her face, sighing heavily. It had been a pretty easy day, no major problems at the bar. This wasn’t even the first time someone in need had ended up sleeping on their coach, though it hadn’t happened in a while, and it was normally someone one of her family members knew. But Vi hadn’t been able to leave Cate sleeping in her truck. For one, it wasn’t safe or comfortable when there was a better option. For the other… she didn’t really know. She just saw something in Cate.
So she made up the pull out couch, snagging her own pillows for Cate just so the woman would be comfortable for at least one night.
Cate appeared in the archway of the living room, wearing a worn pair of sweatpants and a shirt with a logo so faded, Vi wondered if it could ever have been read. Vi smiled at her and patted the armrest of the couch.
“This alright?”
“Fantastic,” Cate said, sinking onto the pull-out. Vi knew the thing was hideously uncomfortable. She and her siblings used to pull it out for movie nights, bars digging into their legs as they fought over snacks and what to watch and the blanket they shared. But the look on Cate’s face was one of exhaustion and relief. Vi wondered again when the last time she had slept inside had been.
“I’m down the hall, second door on the right if you need anything.” Vi rubbed the back of her neck, glancing around the room, worried that if she looked at Cate for too long the question she knew she shouldn’t ask would slip right out. Cate nodded, avoiding Vi’s eyes in turn.
“Thank you.” Cate spoke quietly, her voice tired, but the sentiment sincere.
Vi took her leave, her mind filled with questions about the woman living out of her truck.
—
Vi paused outside of the kitchen, hearing Cate and Vander speaking. She shouldn't eavesdrop, she knew that. But she couldn’t help it, wanting answers about this mysterious woman with the bad dye job, the guarded eyes, and the guns.
“What’s set a young’n like you running?” A long pause stretched, and Vander spoke again, voice even gentler and softer than before. “I know it isn’t my business, but is there anything I can do to help?”
Cate sighed heavily, and her voice shook, embarrassment, shame, in her tone.
“I need cash. I’m broke, can’t even fill up the tank, and I’ve sold everything I could possibly part with. I drove through this town before on the way to Sioux Falls. I came back, figured no one would ask too many questions here.” A bitter laugh. “But you’ve already seen through me, and now I’m stuck.”
She could imagine Vander reaching to place a comforting hand on Cate’s shoulder, could imagine Cate flinching at the touch the way she had when Vi had touched her hand at the bar. There was a pit in Vi’s stomach, guilt gnawing at the edges. She hadn’t known when she’d taken Cate’s money at the bar that her situation was so dire. She never would have. But she could tell Cate was proud, even as worn down as she was.
“I can get you a job, Catherine, and you can stay here.”
“I just need a safe place to park the truck. I’ve been living in it long enough. And, just Cate, please.”
Vi chose that moment to make herself known in the doorway, seeing Cate’s head shake in refusal before her head popped up to meet Vi’s gaze. The tension in her shoulders relaxed slightly, her face softened, something like relief in her eyes. The two were sitting at the kitchen table, mugs of coffee in front of them, Cate’s long fingers tapping a rhythm into the mug she held. Index finger to pinky, and pinky to index finger, and back down again.
“He means it, Cate. He likes to take in strays, right Vander?” Vi made herself smile, hoping to lighten the mood, take some more tension off of Cate, but it hadn’t worked. Her shoulders were back up, her eyes guarded again.
“I am not a stray.” Cate’s voice was icy. It was Vander who jumped in, covering for Vi, comforting Cate.
“No, you’re not. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need a soft place to land. You don't have to stay long.” Cate dropped her head, her hands gripping her mug tight, ears touching her shoulders, tense. A tightly wound spring that could pop at any second.
“Ok.” She said it so quietly Vi could barely hear it, her lips moving the only thing that tipped Vi off that she was speaking, “Ok, I’ll stay. But just for a few days. Then I’ll be on my way.”
Vi and Vander shared a look, the same one they had the night before, and they both nodded. Cate would be here as long as she needed.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and opened the fridge to get out what she needed to make breakfast for the three of them. Facing the counter, she sliced patties off a log of deer sausage their neighbor had given to them, three each for her and Vander.
“Hey Cate, how many sausage patties do you want?” She could see the table out of the corner of her eye. Cate looked surprised, as if she hadn’t expected to be considered.
“Just one is fine.” Vi nodded and cut two. She set a pan on the stove, and while it heated up, she made a fresh pot of coffee. Vander and Cate were quiet, Vander having picked up the day’s newspaper, but she didn’t sense any tension between them. Cate just looked hollow, her face blank, dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t look like the same girl that had breezed in the bar the night before and hustled some locals at darts. She didn’t even look like the same girl that Vi had brought home, exhaustion overriding any other emotion. She looked… fragile. Small. Vi plunked the sausage into the hot pan before grabbing the coffee pot and heading over to the table.
“Refills, anyone?” Vander pushed his mug towards her, and Cate nodded. “You like milk or anything, Cate?”
“Black’s fine.” It didn’t actually answer her question; Cate’s response only meant to avoid Vi having to do anything else for her. Vi let it slide, heading back to the stove to finish the sausage. When they were done, she put them on to a plate lined with a paper towel and started some toast.
“How do you like your eggs, Cate?” Vi leaned against the counter, facing the table. She wasn’t expecting a real answer, at this point, and she didn’t get one.
“However you’re making them is fine, Vi.” Cate’s blue eyes met Vi’s grey ones, staring each other down.
“Well, I’m making them how you like them.” Cate’s eyes narrowed, and Vi raised her eyebrows. She heard her dad cough, covering a chuckle poorly.
“She likes them over medium,” he jumped in. Cate smirked, and Vi rolled her eyes. She didn’t bother to ask Cate how many. She cooked the eggs in batches, filling one plate at a time for each of them. When she was done, Vander came to get his plate and their silverware, and Vi took her plate and Cate’s to the table—two pieces of toast, two eggs, and two sausages for her. There was butter, salt, and pepper already on the table, but Vander brought ketchup over, too. Neither of them liked it with their eggs, but it was pretty clear Cate wouldn’t ask for it if she wanted it.
Cate’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at the plate in front of her, but she didn’t say anything for a long moment as Vi got herself settled at the table, too. Finally, she looked at Vi.
“Thank you.” It was the most sincere thanks Vi had ever received, over something as simple as breakfast. But it wasn’t just breakfast, and both of them knew it. Cate looked to Vander, “Thank you, too, sir.” Vander smiled at her.
“No problem, Cate.”