FRIEDA ~~ Pawnee's house ~~ Nightfall

"Thanks," Pawnee croaked. Frieda continued to stare at the ground sheepishly while he spoke. "I - I've already decided actually. You're probably right about Bittercup. She left me. She's through with me. But I still need to see if I can help her. I couldn't live with myself knowing that's she's someone's slave, and I'm just sitting on my ass over here. I need to go to her."

She nodded wordlessly. Suddenly Pawnee was in front of her. He put his hand on her shoulders, leaning into her. Frieda caught her breath and looked up again into his handsome brown eyes.

"I'd still like you to come with me. I know that may seem. . .strange, but I could probably use a little help getting in and out of Tenpenny, and I know you've been talking about leaving town so. . . I want to head out in the morning without telling anyone. Avoid drama and all the tears and goodbyes."

Pawnee stared deep into Frieda's eyes. She quivered. "Will you come with me Frieda? At least as far as Megaton? Or is this goodbye? Until I get back. . .if I do."

Frieda let her breath out slowly. "Yes," she replied immediately. She'd never admit it, but she was hoping he was going to ask. "I'd hate for you to get stuck in a fight and find out your new hand doesn't work properly. Who knows how many other bounty hunters are still looking for you, that don't know you're 'dead'..." She smiled. "We'll have to tell someone we've left on purpose, though. Maybe leave a note...the vigilantes will come looking for you otherwise." She paused. "Brandy, too."

Frieda wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "I'll go to the diner and grab us a couple drinks, and clear out my locker at the shop." Poor Vict, I've been a deadbeat business partner and now I'm ditching him. "We'll leave before the sun comes up, like you want. I've never been to Tenpenny, though, so you'll have to lead the way."

She hopped up and went down the stairs and into the dark street. In an immature move, she ran past her house and flashed it the middle finger, feeling giddy and bold.

The diner was crowded -- though with the presence of Harold, any room would feel full. Now there was a second very large, gruff looking man, and it made the rest of the people appear to be like sardines in a can. Frieda walked up to the bar and looked around. "Hi there," she greeted the woman with the shaved head and the nose ring, "are you a new employee? Celeste is taking the night off, I guess."

"You could say that," the woman replied. "Can I get something for you?"

Frieda thought for a moment. "Yeah, a Nuka Cola and the rest of that bottle of whiskey." She pointed to a bottle only one-third full just below the bar. "Oh, and a couple of glasses."

"The glasses aren't for sale," the woman replied tersely.

"Then I suppose I'll just have to return them." She's shrewd, but it's a little refreshing compared to Celeste. Frieda locked eyes with the woman for a moment. Eventually, the other woman relented and placed two glasses onto the bar and the rest of Frieda's order.

"Ten caps."

"While you're here, do you have an extra pen and a piece of paper?" Frieda pulled the caps out of her pocket and placed them into the woman's outstretched hand. I guess there's no chance Celeste told her I'm owed some more caps for having redone the lightbulbs in the place. Doesn't matter now, in less than ten hours, Pawnee and I will be long gone from here. She put five more caps onto the bar. "...for the paper, the pencil, and a tip. Okay?"

The woman gave Frieda a strange look, but handed over the paper and the stub of a pencil. Frieda picked up the pencil placed it into her pocket. Joe began to speak from her left.

"...you hear that everyone?" Joe turned to the room and raised his beer in the air. "The drinks are on me tonight. Here's to Duncan."

Wish I'd waited two minutes, then! Oh well. She looked around to take in the newcomers a little more closely. A tattooed woman in a revealing dress was draqed over Harold and talking to the older man who always had looked at Frieda with a scowl.

"We, well I, have been commissioned to get a written confession, Jake, Harlen Jake was his name," the woman was saying.

Frieda frowned. Harlen? Wonder what he did? Other than behave like an insufferable, sixist old man... The group continued on with their conversation and seemed to break up. Joe was engaged, the woman with the tattoos began to speak with James, and Harold remained in the booth. Frieda gathered up the bottles and glasses, folded up the paper, and put it into her pocket.

"Hey," she said to Harold. "I wasn't really listening but I heard mention of Harlen. I saw him earlier today, east of the river and heading south. It sounds like he's in some trouble, I guess..." She shrugged. "See you later, Harold. Thanks again for your help the other night."

Frieda left and went straight to Spark and Flame. She emptied her locker into her bag and placed it onto what use to be her work bench. Frieda took out the paper and carefully ripped it in half along the crease made by the fold.

Vict,

I'm moving on. I haven't been the best business partner and I can admit that ditching you is another [censored] thing to do, but after the raiders ransacked and burned out my house, I just don't feel like sticking around. I hope you can understand.

You've been great. I hope that our paths cross again. I wish you all the best of luck in Grayditch!

Yours truly,

FRIEDA.

She tucked the note underneath his toolbox left on his workbench, then left and locked up. Frieda cut through the side alleyway and finally returned to Pawnee's.

"Hi," she smiled, stepping into his room once more. She noticed he'd packed up the rest of his things, and only his bedroll remained laying on the floor. Frieda sat down next to him and held out the Nuka Cola and the whiskey. "I brought some glasses, too. And some paper..." She placed the paper and the pencil onto the floor in front of her. "I left a note for Vict, but I'm not sure what to say to Brandy." Frieda crinkled her nose. "I don't know that she'd notice we've left for a while but she's the type to come after us. Need to word it to keep her from coming...maybe Bob will help talk sense into her. He seems to be her new best friend..."