[color=00aeef]FRIEDA RICHTER[/color] - Salem

“Maybe,” Brandy shook her head. She rifled through her purse and pulled out a small flashlight, turning it on she dug for her pistol. “We can’t walk after dark without these.” Brandy stumbled off the curb, accidentally shooting a round from her .22 pistol; the bullet whirred in the air away from them. Quickly Brandy looked down the front of her and wiggled her toes, “I’m OK,” she raised her arm, “I’M OHHHHKKKAYYYYY!!!” she looked at Frieda and giggled. 

Frieda gently, but firmly, took the pistol from her hand.  "Let me hang on to that, all right?"  She snapped the safety on and popped it into her belt.  

“You’re right, we don’t need that we have each other.” Brandy pointed, “See that gray house right there, that’s mine. “She looped her arm through Frieda’s and led her to her house. She fumbled for her keys then unlocked the front door, “Welcome to my house,” she escorted Frieda inside to reveal a well cleaned and organized living room. “That picture on the mantel is my Grandparents brother and me,” she had shelves neatly placed all around with an eclectic collection of antiques and knickknacks. She pointed at a dashing young man in an uniform, under the picture hung a purple heart, “That’s my great…” she paused in thought, “Not sure how many greats, but that is my Great Grandpa, he was in World War 2. The Purple Heart was because he was shot while overseas in Germany. He must have been a magnificent and brave man. Maybe if we have time tomorrow I can show you my photo albums. There are a lot of amazing pictures in them from before The Great War.” 

[i]Pre-war military history!  Now, that's interesting.[/i]  Frieda leaned to gaze over Brandy's shoulder and take a closer look at the photo.  "Yeah, sure, we can do that tomorrow sometime."

Brandy sat her purse and keys on the kitchen table, “The bathroom is down that little hall on your left, there’s another upstairs too. Are you thirsty? I’m making a mutfruit and vodka, would you like one?”  She flipped on the light above her sink after sitting down a jug of mutfruit juice and a bottle of vodka.  

Frieda looked at the beer she was still holding, but didn't want to be rude.  She had no idea what "mutfruit and vodka" even was.  "Okay, yeah.  Thanks."  She glanced around the kitchen while Brandy played bartender.

Suddenly, Brandy looked out the window and paused.  “Frieda, I think someone’s sitting outside.”

"Like, a raider, or something?"  Frieda's hand went to her plasma pistol.  "Do you want me to go check it out?"

Brandy paused, again. “That…that might be Ace.” Brandy opened a drawer and pulled out two straws, placing one in each drink, “Excuse me Frieda, I don’t mean to mean rude but I have to see who that is.”

Frieda watched the young woman snatch her drink and leave through the front door before she could say a single word.  Now, standing in a stranger's kitchen, with two drinks and nothing to do, she wandered back out to the living room and looked over the photos again.  [i]Brandy had a brother, too, I see.  Older, from the looks of it in the picture.[/i]  She took a sip of the cocktail and recoiled so violently, she nearly spilled both drinks all over the floor.  "Noooooo thanks," she said out loud, placing the cocktail onto a nearby end table.  She spent a couple more moments looking over the photos and posters before settling herself onto the couch with one of the pre-war magazines lying around.

The door banged open and Brandy burst in, clutching her empty glass, flushed, and out of breath.  “Frieda, FRIEDA!!! He said yes,” she gushed. “You were right, I did what you said and asked him and he said YES,” she bounced then ran over to Frieda and threw her arms around her dropping the glasses. “Thank you, you are the nicest person I’ve met in…forever.  I need to wash up and get some sleep, Ace is going to be up early and he wants flowers and chocolates. Do you know where I can find some?” Brandy pressed her lips together, “I ate all my candy the other day.”

Frieda's mouth opened and shut a few times, trying to respond to everything Brandy said.  "Ahh -- well -- awesome!  I'm glad it worked out for you."  She rubbed her brow.  "Wasn't there a funny looking trader in the diner?  Tom, something?  I bet he'd have some chocolates, or at least know where to find some.  We'll figure that all out tomorrow, okay?"

Taking Frieda’s hand, Brandy led her upstairs, “Your room is right there on the left, mine is right next door and the bathroom is over there. Like I said, I’m right next door if you need anything, you can wake me up OK?” 

"Heh, all right," Frieda chuckled.  "I'll make sure to wake you up if I have a bad dream."

She hugged Frieda, “Thanks so much again.” Brandy went to the bathroom, and Frieda entered her room.  Frieda dropped her bag and began to unbuckle her razzmatazz collection of light armour, feeling several pounds lighter for having shed it.  She yanked the elastic out of her hair, letting her locks fall down beyond her shoulders and sighed.  She had pulled off her sweaty t-shirt and was shimmying out of her cargo pants when Brandy popped her head back in.

“Goodnight Frieda.” 

"Night, Brandy.  Put a glass of water by your bed, okay?"  She smiled and closed the bedroom door behind her, then rifled through her bag for a clean shirt.  

Fruitless search.  None of the few items she'd managed to scavenge after her week or so in the wasteland, proper, were clean.  She sighed, a pang of homesickness hitting her just then.

[i]Idiot, Richter.  You're gonna cry over fucking laundry, now?  Get it together.[/i]  Frieda picked out one of the softer shirts she'd found and slipped it on just for bed.  Another pang hit her, but something more banal.  She opened her door and tiptoed to the bathroom to use the toilet.  As she sat there, staring at the faded wallpaper, she thought she heard Brandy talking.

"...his name is Ace, and I think you and Grandpa would really like him. He is sweet, a good cook and a businessman. I’m really excited to see where it goes, he is such a great guy, and I’ve known him for a little bit, he was here in Salem when I came to town. I am getting my beach house to look nice, it’s been a lot of work, but it has been so worth it. Tomorrow I’m going to show Frieda how relaxing the sand and ocean can be, you guys would like her too.” 

Frieda blushed, realizing she was not meant to have heard anything that she had, and quickly finished up before scurrying back to her room.  She stretched out onto the bed and sighed contentedly.  The stained mattress definitely beat sleeping on the ground.  She reached up to twiddle with her dog tags, to find they weren't there.

Of course they weren't.  She'd taken them off days ago.

She felt physically exhausted and yet lay on the bed for several minutes, unable to fall asleep.  Her stomach growled, loudly.  She realized she'd had nothing to eat since earlier that day.  Frieda pinched her eyes shut and tried to tell herself to itnore it, that she'd find some breakfast in the morning.

Her stomach growled again as response.

[i]Dammit.[/i]

Frieda got out of bed and found herself in Brandy's room, shaking the younger woman awake.  "Hey.  Brandy?  You don't have to get up but do you have anything to eat?  I'm starving and can't get to sleep."