It takes no further prompting to get Six to sidle up next to Veronica as she tucks into her breakfast. An extra somersault sticks the landing in her chest at seeing Veronica enjoying the food she’s made. The way her head spins comes from the joy of affection reciprocated. Six is piecing together that maybe all of the no sleep has Veronica a little out of sorts.
That’s alright, though. She can have all the time she wants to catch up, so long as she doesn’t mind the doleful eyes of the Courier watching her scarf down her first meal in an indiscernible amount of time. The small, almost permanent smile Six wears grows for a moment, a small laugh as Veronica poses her question.
She couldn’t have forgotten about the most incredible gun ever smithed, could she? Especially when it was done by her hands. Already Six is elated to think about the bright gleam in Veronica’s eye when she gets to see it all over again and remember.
“Reckon I did,” her voice is a soft lilt, a small laugh carried on the tail end of it, “Though it’s been a bit longer’n ‘at. You been out for a spell, Ronnie. How long were you up for?”
Though there’s nothing to be done about it now, Six can’t entirely hide the concern in her voice. It shifts though, back to unbridled affection, as she catches the scribe up to speed, “I got the ginchiest gift from the pretties girl I ever met. It’s just the bee’s knees,” even if she’s not all too sure what a bee is, “Nicest gun I’ve ever seen in my whole life. It’s made me feel so very special.”
“How long was-?” Oh, yeah, that makes sense, actually! The immediate back-end of her memory is still redacted, seeking the proper channels for an unredacted recount is a long process (sped up, thankfully by the introduction of FOOD to her system and not just... potato chips and an entire tin of BlamCo hastily pawed at while waiting for wheels to turn and metals to set.
Metals? Oh, she’d been making someone! Some... one? Something. She made something. “Honestly, no idea. I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever slept before in my life. This bed is so nice, it’s almost unnerving.” High rollers were really in luxury’s lap back in the day, huh? Fork wielded like a weapon, she sought more things to skewer and introduce to her refueling system while Six went on to explain the gift. Ginchy, even? From what she’d picked up from this jailhouse rocker she knew? That was HIGH praise. Praise that could only belong to-
“A swo- Oh, a gun? Oh! No, not at all!” Remember the weapon, she didn’t. The only weapons on her mind right now were sharp, steel-sundering and unwieldy. A gun was a great departure from that thought. Helped her convince herself the small knot in her stomach was a hunger pang and not some kind of dread she wasn’t ready to wrestle with.
“I must’ve been on auto-pilot after a bit, I don’t really remember that at all...” Words petered out, and to fill the gap came a bit of bacon. “Working myself into a fugue just to give you something nice does sound about right, though.” She’d done it before.