AN: I wrote this oneshot over a year ago and published it on Wattpad. My intention is to edit and re-upload one chapter a week, hopefully posting once every Friday. Each chapter will begin with a short synopsis and content rating. Criticism is appreciated.


To Have and To Hold

Synopsis: Boone and the Courier venture deep into the heart of the Legion to recover Boone's wedding ring. (T)


The Lucky 38, February 2283.

Sage strummed the guitar. Why did there have to be so many chords? People always made this seem easy.

Boone entered the bedroom with his usual quiet presence. Sage, relieved at an excuse to stop practicing, set down the guitar.

"Need to talk with you," he began, with no prelude. She hadn't expected one.

Sage stretched out on the bed, propping her chin in her hands. "That doesn't sound good."

Boone frowned blankly. "Depends, I guess."

"On?"

He shifted. "Depends."

"Oh."

Seconds ticked by as he sat on the bed. She lay on the bed, waiting. He sat on the bed some more.

"So. We gonna talk?" Sage pressed.

He looked down at his hands in his lap. "Yeah. We are." Sage expected another long silence, but he plunged one hand into a pocket and excavated a ring. "This is my wedding ring."

"I've heard of those," Sage interrupted him. "Isn't that a pre-war marriage thing?"

"Yeah. Some people still do it. In Vegas, mostly."

"That's sweet." Sage smiled, but Boone's eyes were transfixed on the ring. "Her idea, I assume."

"Her mother's." Boone sighed gently. "This is a lot to ask."

"Ask it."

He frowned.

"I can't answer until you ask, Boone."

Finally, he relented. "I want the other one back."

Interesting. "Sounds like a good time." Sage rolled over onto her back so she could look up at him. "Better than chords, anyway."

"Gotta find it first," he added, heartened.

"Any ideas?"

"No. I went back to Cottonwood Cove to check. Wasn't there." So that was where he'd been.

"At least we know where not to look." Sage finally sat up and turned back around to face him. "I know who to ask. C'mon." She hopped out of bed, donned her longcoat and helmet, grabbed the Dinner Bell, and pressed the elevator call button. "Come on, ED-E!"

(—)

The wind blew sharply through the canyon wreckage, hissing off broken bits of machinery. Boone, tired of holding his beret down with one hand, tore it off and put it in his pocket, safe next to the ring.

Sage made a sympathetic noise under her riot helmet. "Sorry about the wind. Luckily we don't far to go once we get to the Divide."

Boone nodded once and pulled the collar of his survival armor up over his nose. "Should be fine. If I don't drown in sand by then."

Sage hopped on top of a dilapidated car, then back to the ground on the other side. Boone hoisted himself after her with somewhat less enthusiasm, ED-E buzzing in his wake.

"It's just up here," she called over her shoulder. The mouth of the canyon opened up ahead, into sickly-colored openness. Sage shoved aside an old baby carriage (no bones in this one. Good.) "Ahead."

The place was destroyed. Truly destroyed. Stone and cliff stretched for miles, a whole lot of nothing. It smelled like tar. The wind lessened absent the canyon walls, but it brought with it gales of grit, and made Sage's Geiger counter click lazily. Boone swiped the sand out of his shades and followed his spotter forward.

She picked her way through to a small camp off the side of the road. There sat a dark man with darker hair, a lot of it. He slept, his head resting motionlessly against a rock. Sage wasn't daunted by this fact, or by any known standards of politeness, so she shook him gently awake.

He snapped alert, assessed the lack of a threat, and rolled his neck and shoulders. "Back home, Courier. Been some time."

"Sorry. Turns out, committing a hostile takeover of an entire region brings all these consequences and responsibilities. I haven't had much time for anything." She gave her head an exaggerated shake and faux-sighed.

"But here you are. And not alone. Reason for it." The strange man crossed his muscular arms.

"Yeah." Sage sat herself down next to him, and motioned for Boone to do the same. "What I'm asking for is a stretch, but you're the best lead I've got. I know three ex-Legion - One of them is a dog, the other is a million miles north of here. That leaves you."

Boone wrinkled his nose at that. Rex he could deal with, but he had never heard of either of Sage's ex-Legion contacts, and didn't like being in one's presence now.

"Boone, this is Ulysses. He's... a friend. Coworker. Whatever."

Ulysses seemed content to stare in silence at the desolation around him instead of acknowledging them.

"Weird guy," Boone remarked.

Ulysses leveled his gaze on him. "Worlds die. Flags fall. Without them, we are but the basest of ourselves. No more... context, for what we do, not here. Perhaps we have a kinship in that."

"...What?"

Ulysses continued, as if thinking out loud. "Bear fled the Mojave, yet you remain with the Courier. Man without a nation. Or perhaps... there's more for you in Vegas than anywhere else."

"Stop talking." Boone looked to Sage for rescue, but she was busy attempting to coax ED-E out of the shadows of the cliffside. The eyebot beeped in agitation.

"Come on, ED-E. We're all friends now," she crooned, extending a hand toward the eyebot. He inched forward and allowed her to stroke some sand off the top of his hull.

"Your eyebot. How did you manage that?" Ulysses asked her, tone interested but no less esoteric.

"Oh yeah," Sage replied. "This ED-E is the original. Remember, you dropped him off in Primm?"

"Ah."

"Yeah. Except, somehow the other ED-E did some sort of memory transfer, before he... when he was cancelling the launch. So he kinda hates you." She tilted her head apologetically. ED-E whirred in distrust.

"Hm," Ulysses grunted, unconcerned.

"Hey!" Boone called, interrupting the incomprehensible anecdote. He was more-or-less used to not knowing what was going on, and he trusted Sage. She'd never given him a good reason not to. But this was far too bizarre. "You going to get on with it, or you want to freak me out some more?" ED-E clicked in agreement. "...yeah."

Sage moved to apologize, eyes wide and consoling, but he waved her away. She cared too much, thought she could fix everything. And she was overprotective of the people she considered hers, especially when it came to Boone. But at least she got that this mission was important to him.

"Right. Back to business," Sage decided. "Ulysses, when the Legion takes captives, how do they handle valuables?"

Ulysses tore his eyes away from the still-angry ED-E. "Depends on the valuable. Melts them down for coin, usually. Bull doesn't have much more use for shiny things."

Boone drew back smoothly into impassivity. "That's all I needed to hear. Let's get out of here."

"Lose something?" asked Ulysses, in his creepily calm manner.

"A ring. Boutta year and a half ago," added Sage. Boone scowled. Too much information.

"Hm. Where?" asked Ulysses. He sounded genuinely interested, Boone realized unpleasantly.

"Sage. Let's go." Boone didn't like Ulysses, and he especially didn't like this conversation. If those monsters had melted down Carla's wedding ring and stamped Caesar's face on it, he could deal with that. Eventually. As long as it wasn't hanging off some soldier's finger.

Sage ignored him. "Cottonwood Cove."

"Mm. Long travel," said Ulysses.

"Sage, we've got to go."

Ulysses ignored him too. "Bull's been busy. Possible there hasn't been time to make new coin. Ring might still be in Flagstaff. The blacksmiths're all out fighting."

Sage looked to Boone, smiling faintly at the news. "What do you think? Worth a shot?"

"Up to you," Boone said softly. "Can't ask you to risk this on a maybe."

"I can't ask you to let this go on a maybe not," replied Sage, less softly.

ED-E, interested, released a string of beeps, boinks, and random musical notes, with a quick little shake in Ulysses's direction.

"Well... he's got a point," Sage nodded with finality. She started back down the path east as if a decision had just been reached.

Boone and Ulysses met each other's eyes, both entirely confused.

(—)

"And to the northeast, you'll see lovely Flagstaff, Arizona, home of Humphreys Peak and everyone's favorite gang of rapist cosplayers."

Boone could almost hear Arcade smiling through his helmet as he spoke. He'd seemed happier in general since rejoining the Enclave. Their "last hurrah" had turned more into a series of hurrahs, which the NCR was definitely unhappy about. But Sage and Gannon both vouched for them, which was good enough for Boone. Plus, it was nice not having to walk all the way to Flagstaff.

"I hate this Legion armor. It wasn't built for girls," Sage complained. She wasn't built much like a girl herself, scrappy and narrow, with skin the color of the desert and eyes sharp and intuitive. She tugged on the armor's chestplate.

Boone was uncomfortable in his armor for entirely different reasons, but he could swallow his disgust for the moment. The fact that they'd taken them off of dead legionaries helped a little.

"We'll be landing soon," called Daisy. "Gonna be a bit of a walk into the city, but it's better than getting the vertibird shot down by that howitzer you said they'd got."

"Thanks, Daisy," said Sage. "We'll be on our guard - we've handled the Legion army before."

"This is a lot of risk to go through for a ring," worried Arcade. "I get that it's important to you, Boone, but this is Flagstaff we're talking about. Neither of you will be hanged for cowardice if you back out, you know."

Sage scoffed. "Hey. If anyone messes with us, we'll just kill 'em."

"Yeah. Foolproof."

(—)

For all her complaining, Sage knew how to infiltrate somewhere she wasn't wanted. If she kept silent and kept her ski mask on, her small frame could be chalked up to a pubescent recruit. She could walk the walk. She had Boone to talk the talk.

(She was acutely aware, of course, that she'd never had to rely on Boone's social skills before.)

A Legion encampment was just about the worst place in the world, even compared to the Divide. Flagstaff was the capital city, the mother of all Legion encampments, and it was horrible.

The smell of human and Brahmin waste blew through the streets. Sage would have preferred the NCR for their interior plumbing alone. This was a city, not a war camp, so the barbarity wasn't as prevalent as in the Fort. It was more shocking, though, for its sheer size; the city was huge, and it proved that for all the fighting, the Legion was not over. The soldiers still trained, the dogs still tore at unidentifiable pieces of flesh littering the road, the slaves still groaned and avoided eye contact. Some had insignia sewn into the center of the red X on their chests, marking them as privately-owned; others had nasty brands seared into their cheeks or chests. Their numbers made the Fort seem benign by comparison.

Sage watched them hunch as the two of them passed, and wished for a way to help. She knew Boone felt the same bystander's guilt, but they had come here on a very different mission, and it was barely feasible in itself.

The problem was - how to find a single ring that may or may not exist anymore, within a city of thousands of people, stretching dozens of square miles? Their best bet was some sort of storeroom, like Ulysses had said, which meant finding the foundry.

The problem with that was that Boone had to do the talking. Assuming he could even keep himself from flying into a violent rage, he had to be convincing, and charisma just wasn't in his wheelhouse. Sage coached him as they walked, her voice low.

"They greet each other with ave - ah-way. And 'goodbye' is vale - wa-lay. Or something like that. Wish Arcade was here."

"I'm not saying that."

"Why the heck not?" Sage asked, rounding on him. Her voice was already high, but it got borderline screechy when she was angry. She glanced around for listening ears.

"I'll ask the question and get an answer," he grumbled. "They're not expecting visitors here."

"Sounds to me like you're just hoping we start a fight," she harrumphed. The woman had a serious problem with being undermined, even by friends.

But Boone was more strategic than he let on. He focused on a girl, about fifteen or sixteen, and moved to approach her. Sage had to admit, she hadn't thought to ask a slave. A soldier would make trouble - the girl wouldn't.

Well, it was mostly thought-out. The slave twisted in place as they approached, searching for some form of escape. It occurred to Sage that under no circumstances would a slave be comfortable being approached by two legionaries. She put up her hand in a placating gesture, but it would be up to Boone to do the talking.

"Hey," he said, with surprising gentleness. "We need some help."

She drew back, anxious. "I don't think I... am the best person for that."

"We just got transferred here. Looking for where they make the coins. Do you know?"

The girl seemed relieved, and a little emboldened by the patience in the man's tone. "Aren't all the soldiers trained in Flagstaff?" she ventured. Sage panicked internally.

"No," Boone said.

The girl took him at his word. Evidently there was something to be said for simplicity. Sage vowed to remember that. "Denarii are minted... three miles south of the Temple," the girl answered. "You know where the Temple is... right?"

Her question seemed almost like bait, but Boone didn't think to lie this time. "No. New here."

"I'll show you..." she looked around, nervous, "...iiif you help me carry a load of manure across town." She held Boone's gaze, nearly defiant.

"Awful sure we won't just ask someone else?" Boone asked, amused.

"I have a quota to fill."

Sage and Boone turned to each other, making what would be eye contact if not for their shades.

"Sounds good," Boone said at last.

(—)

The girl spoke little as they lugged their sacks of manure. Compared to her original apprehension, the extortion of their labor had been bold, but Boone supposed she was more afraid of her overseer than she was of them.

She rounded a corner, but stopped with an uncomfortable "Mm." In front of them, stood at attention an entourage of Praetorians, surrounding... no way.

"What's Lucius doing here?" Sage hissed into his ear. Boone didn't actually know who Lucius was, but he recognized the spy by his side, and he didn't like it.

"We should've shot 'em in the heads," Boone remarked.

"Well, that's not a 100% effective strategy," Sage quipped back. "I thought Vulpes disappeared awfully fast after we killed him."

"That other guy's wearing that necklace. Guess they made him Caesar now."

Sage shrugged.

The girl didn't seem to have heard them talking. She was staring at the officers, anxious of their proximity.

Suddenly, Sage took off, passing right in front of the parade of officers without a word of acknowledgement. Boone and the girl hung back, unsure whether to follow.

"Legionary?" asked the new emperor. Lucius, Boone assumed.

Sage turned on her heel. She froze for a few seconds, caught in her lack of acknowledgement of her king. She straightened and bowed low to one knee, head inclined absurdly. The officers seemed to take no issue with that, so Sage stood and continued on, receiving a nod from Lucius.

The girl scurried after her, head low, apparently unworthy to even bow. Out of sight of the men, Sage jerked her head for Boone to continue.

No. No way he was bowing before this Lucius guy, and no way he was bowing before that animal Vulpes Inculta. What would Carla care about recovering her ring if Boone had to prostrate himself before the people who got her killed to get it? Sage stared at him pleadingly.

Boone marched past the legionaries, swinging the bag of manure back and forth.

(—)

They deposited the manure in the community stores near the center of town. Not in the center itself; that was where Caesar's palace and Temple resided, and it wouldn't do to stink the area up.

Sage kept shooting Boone irate glances, but they couldn't discuss what had just happened, not here.

The girl brought them to the storeroom, at their request.

"Thank you," said Boone.

"No... thank you," the girl smiled unabashedly. The two waited awkwardly for her to leave so Sage could pick the lock, but she didn't seem to be motivated to move.

"We're done here. You can go," Boone prompted.

The girl's smile faltered minutely, but she propped it up again. "I know you're not legionaries."

Boone frowned and half-crouched to look her in the face. "Yeah we are. Scram."

That seemed to assure her completely. "You don't know your ways around the city, but all legionaries make their beginnings here. And your companion hasn't spoken a word."

Boone tried to get out of it anyway. "I don't think that's -"

"You have the Burned Man's gun," declared the girl, pointing to the .45 auto strapped to Sage's hip.

"What? No we don't!" Boone exclaimed, taken aback.

Sage finally gave up her silence and laughed. "What makes you say that?"

"Every slave knows that gun."

She chuckled. "Well, shoot. You could have told me sooner." She pulled the hem of her undershirt down over the handgun. "Alright, the jig is up. Now what do you want? Planning to blackmail us?"

"To - what?" The slave seemed confused.

"Blackmail. Threaten us with the information so we'll do something for you," Sage defined. Boone didn't see how this was helping.

"What are you here to do?" the slave blurted suddenly, looking enthusiastic.

"We're gonna steal a wedding ring back from the Legion," Sage answered quickly, just happy to have her voice back.

"Oh... that's all." The girl bared her teeth in an awkward smile that hid disappointment.

"What did you have in mind?" Sage asked her kindly.

She answered, slowly. "Well. I assumed... you were working for the Burned Man."

Sage took off her shades so she could look at the girl. Luckily, nobody saw - this area was as empty as Ulysses had expected it to be. "I haven't seen the Burned Man in a year, kiddo -" Boone cut her off with a disbelieving scoff. She shot him a swift glare and continued. "And I think he's kind of hanging up his hat. Because he's old -" she added in a conspiratorial whisper "- and not really feeling up to the whole vengeance thing anymore."

"Oh," the girl said simply.

"How friendly are you with this guy?" Boone asked, concerned. He sounded like he wanted to chalk this one up to one of her head injuries, but she had the gun to prove it.

"Oh, pretty well. He's a nice guy. Gave me a book," she added, as if that had anything to do with the topic whatsoever.

"Well. Sorry to disappoint, kid," Boone muttered.

"I'm not," she lied. She spoke untruth with the ease of a survivor. "Can I help you find your ring?"

"Sure," Sage answered, "as long as it won't get you in trouble." She started on the storeroom's lock.

*Click* Easy peasy.

There was no rhyme or reason inside the storeroom, lit only by holes in the rundown ceiling. Mostly tribal jewelry, some NCR dogtags, strewn about with only haphazard walking paths cut through the wreckage. Sage clicked her Pip-Boy light on and pocketed a few holotapes it illuminated, always hungry for history.

"We should split up. This is too much to dig through at once," Boone commented.

"Too dark," countered Sage.

Boone found a torch at the front of the storerooom. He handed it to the girl and lit another for himself. By the flickering firelight, he showed the girls his ring.

"It looks like this." The ring was simple and battered, probably a hand-me-down made before the war. Luckily, there was enough ornamentation for it to be distinct from any other silver band littering the storeroom floor. The three set to looking.

"So," Sage struck up a conversation, "have things in the Legion been better since Lucius took office?"

The girl hesitated a beat. "In many ways, yes."

"Better than Lanius'd've been, anyway."

"Yes. And," she lowered her voice a bit, as if fearing the walls could hear her. "Better than Caesar was. But the Legion's numbers are depleted. Lucius wants to restore them as soon as possible."

Sage and Boone caught each other's eye. "... ugh."

"Less killing. But the women are expected to be... productive." She took a deep breath and continued. "I am now fifteen, officially an adult. That makes me, em, eligible."

They cringed at that. "You aren't an adult," Boone snapped. "Even if you were. Makes me sick."

"Don't feel bad. That Courier Six did us all a favor. I can respect Lucius, at least."

Sage swung her Pip-Boy light towards her. "And how about your new legate?"

Boone straightened suddenly.

"Vulpes Inculta?" the girl hesitated. "He is extremely, well..." She paused uncomfortably.

"Finish that sentence, child."

The voice from the doorway was smooth and cold. They spun to see the frumentarius-turned-legate himself, sneering at them in the sunlit doorway.

Sage, lips quirking confidently, strode toward him. "I think our friend was hoping to tell us what a nice face you have, pretty boy."

"Laugh, Courier. Relish it. You won't leave this building ali-"

Sage served him a sturdy right cross before he could finish. "Take off, guys!"

The others launched themselves after her, Boone driving a much heavier fist into the fox's gut as he passed. But Vulpes hadn't come alone.

They found themselves pursued by a number of foot soldiers. More joined the pursuit as they fled, firing blindly backwards. They managed well enough on the sprint, but all legionaries were in excellent physical condition, and only creative maneuvering and marksmanship could get them out of this one.

Slaves turned to watch, but did little to stop them. Sage thought she heard an apple crate conveniently overturn behind them once they'd passed, though, and suspected they had such brief delays to thank for their continued existence.

The slave girl ran in front, so the few bullets that hit home buried themselves into Sage's and Boone's armor. They cried out in shock and pain, but most legionaries used low-caliber guns that didn't penetrate. It was nothing a stimpak couldn't fix - as long as they could reach the vertibird.

Finally, they turned the right corner, and plasma bolts flew from up ahead to pick off their attackers. Daisy had intercepted radio broadcasts from within the city to track their location, and arrived just in time. Arcade hung out of the vertibird, reaching out to help them up.

Daisy took off quickly once they'd boarded. Bullets plunked pathetically off the craft's hull, but the legionaries shrank back at a shot from the vertibird's guns.

"Well!" Arcade exclaimed, breathless. "You've made a friend!"

"Yeah!" piped Sage. "This is -" She turned to the teen expectantly.

The girl was watching Flagstaff grow smaller through the window. After a moment, she turned her head. "Molly. The Legion never gave me a name. But before that... I was Molly."

"Welcome aboard, Molly!" Daisy called from the cockpit.

"And... Thanks," said Boone. In his open palm, two rings sat together, safe and sound and home.