Fallout: Rest Bit From Worry

Story by SrA havenofimage on SoFurry

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#11 of Fallout

 

            The morning dawned, bringing gray skies and steady down...


The morning dawned, bringing gray skies and steady downpour. Needless to say Jaimie showed no sympathy towards me as I faced the weather head on, continuing our southward journey. In fact, her attitude was rather smug and not a small bit self satisfied despite our now sodden condition. My visor cut through the harsh conditions and I bent low over the handle bars, hoping the twenty centimeter wind screen would help me avoid the worst of the rain, but my arms and legs were soon soaked through.

By two in the afternoon, we were both feeling miserable. The rain had gotten, if possible, heavier and our weariness was beginning to take its toll. Bedraggled and dead on our feet, we grabbed a cheap room in a rundown inn. I joined Jaimie after stowing the bike in some thick bushes lining an over grown, garbage filled creek. She was already asleep. I wasn't entirely convinced that we had put enough distance between ourselves and the pursuit, but I didn't have much of a choice but to stop and rest. I had almost fallen asleep over the handlebars twice, nearly driving us off the road at high speed. We had both been running on only a couple hours sleep over the past fifty two. Sergeant Day had always told us during training that rest could be our most deadly weapon. Our missions in the field had proven that, and now his words rang true again.

Eight hours later I awoke, feeling considerably better. With a good stretch and a bite to eat, I'd be back at one hundred percent. Jaimie was still fast asleep. No point waking her, I had some errands to run before we moved on, and I didn't want to leave until after midnight anyway. Neither of us was nocturnal, but the nighttime travel gave a sense of security. Plus, the stars over the open highway were a spectacular and reassuring sight which I never grew tired of. Soon we would be leaving the rural landscape and entering large population centers, so I wanted to take advantage of the freedom while we had it.

I slipped out quietly, leaving a note on the inside of the door for Jaimie. It didn't take long for me to walk to the local superstore and find what I was looking for. Though I had felt obligated to pay for the bike, primarily because I didn't want the dealership's owner to report the theft, the small items I wanted here could easily be lifted, sparing our rapidly dwindling supply of cash. Five minutes later, I was leaving the store out of a fire exit which was not covered by a camera, and whose alarm I had recently disabled, my duffle slightly fuller than it had been when I entered. I did buy some dinner from a nearby fast food joint on my way back though.

The sound of the shower filtered through the room's bathroom wall as I returned, carefully checking that no one was watching me. I dropped the bag onto one of the beds and unloaded my "purchases." I opened the bathroom door in order to ensure that Jaimie would hear me. Though the shower was closed, and the glass on the door distorted most of the details of its occupant, it didn't completely disguise the form of Jaimie's naked body, nor did I make any real attempt to look away.

"Jaimie! Dinner!" I called loudly over the running water, before closing the light wood door, only slightly embarrassed.

Much to my surprise, the sound of the shower ended immediately. Not two minutes latter Jaimie stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a pair of towels and still damp. She barely acknowledged me before falling ravenously onto the burger I had brought her. I guess now I knew how to get a girl out of the shower, offer her food. I took a seat on the bed across from her and began on my food with similar gusto. It turned out I was hungrier than I had thought. I looked up to see Jaime wiping her mouth with her arm. A few minutes of silence followed as each of us finished our meal with an attempt at a little more dignity.

"Throw on a t-shirt and some shorts, something you don't mind getting ruined so I can dye your hair. I'll clean this up."

Jaimie looked at me questioningly, but didn't comment as she slipped back into the bathroom to change. Upon her return, wearing a white tank top and pale green shorts, I set to work changing Jaimie's identity. I gently ran my fingers through her still damp hair working the jet black pigment down to its roots, trying to cover all of the white evenly and blend into the detailed tips. Her hair felt like silk between my paws, even through the gloves I wore to protect my fur from becoming stained. Once I was satisfied that I had achieved a uniform color, I had Jaimie wash out the excess dye so I could begin cutting it. Finishing with her hair, I stepped back to get a better look at my handy work. Not so bad for a complete amateur with a pair of household scissors.

"Close your eyes." I gently commanded.

Jaimie complied without speaking and I began applying temporary fur stain to her face in order to alter her visible markings. It had been too long since we had last been able to spend time together without being on the run, and I made sure to take advantage of the little bit we had now. I slowly and carefully worked, studying Jaimie's face as I did. It was the same face I had known for the past months, but in a way it was also different. Gone was the girl living care free in the mountains, and replacing the old features were determination, loyalty, and possibly one other emotion, recognizable even with her eyes closed.

With black and brown now covering the balance of Jaimie's face, I began working my way down her neck. Reaching her shoulders, I slid the loops of her shirt down to her arms, and extended the color down to her collar bone. Finally I moved to her forearms and paws, softly working the stain deep into her glossy fur. I looked up to catch her watching me with a curious expression on her face. I grinned and she grinned back nervously.

"Alright, you're done! There's nothing I can do about your eyes. False colored contacts aren't exactly a common household good."

I pushed the chair she had been sitting in around to face the mirror over the sink.

"Wow," she gasped, "I can barely recognize myself."

I agreed, mostly, but if you looked, there was the same nose, the same high cheek bones, the same smile, and the same piercing blue eyes. For all intensive purposes of fooling any onlookers though, Jaimie's appearance was no longer her own. My reflection however was still very much one of a government fugitive, and that would have to change. Jaimie seemed to read my thoughts as she began unpacking the rest of the coloring I had bought.

"Take off your shirt for me," she instructed.

I complied and the process repeated, though I understandably required much more work than simply moving my markings. I had no readily visible markings, other than the spot on my shoulder, and the other on my tail. The rest of my fur was pure white, and it wasn't as if an albino snow leopard was a common sight on the street. At the store I had briefly considered changing my species all together, perhaps a cheetah. But my fur was too long and too, poofy, to be believable. I settled for simply adding the pigment my genes had robbed me of.

Jaimie began adding copious amounts of grey to my face, back, arms and legs. Admittedly, the experience was... different and I felt my heart race a little as her paws ran over my body. Her fingers slowly and methodically worked through my fur, ensuring a complete coverage anywhere the color was "supposed" to be. Jaimie and I had had very little actual physical contact, and nothing of this scale, since leaving Fairchild. Finishing the base shade, she began applying the black. Many of my "spots" retained their metallic value, giving her a base idea of where to apply the pigment. I noticed her pause in a few areas where I knew large scars could be seen on my skin.

Well over an hour later, after working her way down the considerable length of my tail, Jaimie announced that I was finished. I studied my new appearance in the mirror. She left my hair silver, and it easily aged me ten years. It worked for our purposes, and over my muscular upper body, gave me a rather distinguished look, but I still didn't like looking older. My eyes were the only thing I recognized. The gold almost glittered in the harsh halogen lighting. Well, those and the scars on my leg which remained black, the series of gunshot wounds stitching a line up my thigh.

I walked back over to, Jaimie who was still sitting on the bed where she had been working. She patted the mattress next to her, inviting me to take a seat. I obeyed, sighing heavily as the old springs groaned under my weight.

"Hey ya stranger," she said, winking, an unfamiliar tone underlining her words.

"Hey ya back," I replied with a grin.

Jaimie slowly, and almost absentmindedly, ran a claw gently down a long scar on my upper arm.

"Did you get all of these while you were in the service?"

"Yup."

"What was this one from?" she asked, indicating the one she had been tracing.

"That was from the experimental surgery which was performed on us to increase our perception, bone strength, and speed... along with these." I indicated an identical mark on my left arm, two on my legs, one strait down my still bare chest, and the one which bordered my hairline.

"And this one?" she inquired of a pair of lines on my shoulder.

"Sparring with tank."

I proceeded with a guided tour of my minor disfigurements. "Stab wound from rebel infantry," I said, indicating one on my right breast, "had to have a portion of my lung replaced after that. And this was shrapnel from an unguided rocket," I pointed out a series of mark along my left side. I ran my fingers through a patch of fur on my hip which grew back stiff, "This was from and exploding gas tank, and here's where I broke my leg jumping from a five story tower during training. Had a rod in there for three months. And these ones," I designated the marks on my thigh, "were automatic weapon fire I took while covering my team's evac. That cut an artery and I nearly bleed to death. Would have if Curry hadn't done such a good job patching me up on the helicopter."

"That's it?"

"Mostly, a bunch of small ones, but nothing worth mentioning."

"What about this one."

I winced inwardly as she ran her paw across the rather large set of claw marks which ran twelve centimeters across my neck. I had really hoped I would be able to avoid mentioning that particular injury due to the circumstances under which it had been received. But, thinking back on it, I had to chuckle before telling the story.

"What?" Jaimie asked, her curiosity peeked again.

"Funny story behind this one. Probably the only time that a member of the squad deliberately injured another. Of course, I may have deserved it, partly. But it doesn't really matter."

"Yes it does, tell me the story."

I tried to evade any questioning, but Jaimie was persistent, so in the end I surrendered.

"We were on a training mission about a year into the program. I was posted as a sniper, and Teague, my pal from high school, was spotting for me. Well, we're sitting up here with nothing to shoot. The others were doing too good a job at neutralizing the opposition before they were in the clear. So Teague and I are getting pretty bored when Curry comes out of cover and moves up, out in the open. Now Teague has had the hots for Jess since day one at the Academy, so he makes this bet with me. See, Teague and I had been best friends for over ten years, I just had to take him up on it."

"Right," Jaimie stated with a 'boys will be boys' look on her face. "So what was the bet?"

"To shoot her pants off," I mumbled, now feeling rather embarrassed.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you."

"To shoot her pants off," I said a bit louder.

"And did you do it?"

I tried to hold back my feelings of humiliation, but the look on my face must have said everything I wasn't because Jaimie fell back on the bed laughing. I waited, slightly impatient and slightly humbled, for her to get control over herself. Finally she sat back up, a few tears of mirth still visible dampening the fur beneath her eyes. But she appeared to be listening again, that look which I still couldn't place back on her face, and a bit of a gleam in her eyes.

"Needless to say she tried hard to kill me, and I don't mean that figuratively."

After a pause Jaimie spoke again.

"I'm glad she didn't kill you," she said mischievously running a finger across the now spotted fur on my upper chest. Then, continuing in a tantalizingly seductive tone, gently biting her lower lip, "Why haven't you shot my pants off yet?"

Obviously the close physical contact had affected her similarly to how it had me. A small voice in the back of my head said that we shouldn't waste time and get back on the road. However, as I flopped backwards onto the bed, pulling Jaimie on top of me, an overwhelming portion of my mind silenced it. I reasoned that we both obviously needed, not to mention had earned, the release of the last weeks' pent up stress and emotion.

Some time later, I couldn't be sure exactly how long as I hadn't seen a clock since entering the room, we lay side by side on the mattress, our fur moist with sweat (among other things) panting heavily. The little clothing we had been wearing was now dispersed about the sheets and floor. I had been right. We had both needed it.

My head began to clear and my heart rate slowly returned to normal. We probably need to get going.

"What do you say, a quick shower then back to the highway?" Jaimie suggested.

It was sound reasoning to me. The stars were still bright by the time we had cleaned up, packed our few belongings, retrieved the bike and were back on the road, both of us now fully recovered and wide awake. I smirked inside my helmet noticing that Jaimie's hold around my waist was a little tighter, and her body a little closer. With that, I accelerated down along the deserted freeway and we disappeared from the town which had, temporarily, been our refuge. The kilometers flew from beneath us and I marveled as now, for the first time since waking up in an obscure hospital in an equally obscure mountain town, I wasn't worried about my future.