Chapter Text
"Ouch!"
Boothill's yelp had [Y/n] retract the tools that were currently digging into a cavity on his metal arm. She scoffed and gave him a small glare. "Sit still then, you idiot."
"I'm tryin' darlin'. Those adorable troublemakers busted me up good. Can't sit comfy." The cyborg cowboy's broken Synesthesia Beacon censored him as he shifted on the table he lay on, tilting his head to look at her. His long white locks tinged with inky black dangled from the edges of the table. Shaking her head, [Y/n] then dove back in to continue her work on his arm, careful of the wires. "Taught 'em a lesson though," he continued with a chuckle while [Y/n] remained silent. Boothill's gaze settled on her gloved hands, watching as she treated him like he was made of glass.
Boothill still had the sense of touch, however, it wasn't as strong as it was when he was human. His body was about ninety percent metal and wires, save for his head. His model was advanced, although there were signs of wear and tear. Hence the deep scars near his abdomen.
A sly smile spread across his lips, showing off his sharp teeth. [Y/n] stuck out her tongue in focus and connected some loose wiring. It was quite fascinating how focused she could get. "There we go. That should do it," she said, closing up the panel and screwing it shut. Boothill sat up and flexed his arm, the motors and servos whirring as he tested out his newly repaired arm.
"Works like a charm. Much obliged, darlin'." The Galaxy Ranger's grin widened as he spun the golden revolver chamber on his arm before throwing it back in with a flick. [Y/n] put away her tools and grabbed his leather jacket and black hat. She always found it amusing that he opted to wear such a short jacket, but then again his whole body was pretty much made of metal. She was pretty sure he'd be kicked out of most establishments if it weren't for that fact. She presented his clothing to him and he began to put them on.
[Y/n] moved her tool box to the shelf in the workshop, a sigh escaping her lips. "You should really be more careful, y'know?"
Boothill let out a chuckle, placing his hat on his head. "Aw, you growin' soft on me?" She rolled her eyes in response, crossing her arms. Her demeanor earned another laugh from him. "I ain't goin' anywhere. Been through worse and you've fixed worse." He moved closer to her, his spurs jingling with each step. He tilted his head, taking note of her body language. "You're not usually this quiet. Somethin' on your mind? Or are you that worried about lil' ol' me?"
[Y/n] pursed her lips before turning to the tablet set up on the workbench. She slid off her thick gloves and tapped away at the holographic surface. Within a few moments, a picture of the Galaxy Ranger himself was projected with a large sum of money underneath. "720.5 million credits. What did you do this time to make it so high?!" She pointed at him with a hand on her hip. She poked him in the chest, "Other bounty hunters are gonna be chomping at the bit to get their hands on you."
He grabbed her hand and that lopsided toothy grin remained. "Let 'em try. All they're gonna get is a bullet between the eyes. 'Sides, the only one I'll let put their hands on me is you." That last part made [Y/n] huff and yank down the Ranger's hat, pulling her hand out of his. "Hey!"
"You're insufferable."
"And yet you still tolerate me," he pointed out, fixing his hat. "Tell ya what. I'll pay you twice as much next time. Heck, triple! 's the least I can do for fixing up such a high profile outlaw."
"Tch, about time I got a raise," [Y/n] joked. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go work on some other upgrades for you. If you wanna make yourself useful, you can go pick up some parts in the city. I'll send you the list." [Y/n] plopped down in her chair, spinning to face the tablet. She sent him the information and his phone buzzed on the table. He picked up his red phone, scanning the list's contents.
"Making use of that money already, eh?"
-----
Boothill had left the workshop to acquire the requested parts. He was gone for a good hour searching through the many shops in the city. The planet of Vinda-9 was a large planet covered in a massive single city. It was [Y/n]'s home planet and she lived on the outskirts of the city. There were floating cars parked on the sides of the streets and the buildings were narrow and cramped. The residents of the planet would occasionally give him a questioning glance before carrying on.
The silver haired cowboy didn't care how much the parts cost. He knew [Y/n] would make good use of them and it would benefit him anyways. It didn't take long to find them all and soon he was on his way back to her workshop. As he walked, he couldn't help but to think about just how lonely it must be to sit alone at the edge of town, only keeping machines as company. His visits were every few weeks, whether it was routine maintenance or repairs.
Of course, he would visit just to say hello and check up on her. Every interaction between the two either devolved in Boothill telling stories of his escapades, or the two playfully insulting each other as [Y/n] showed off her new blueprints.
After a while of walking, he made it back to the workshop, using his own key she had gifted him to open the door. It was quiet inside, save for the soft hum of some electronics coming from the workshop. He entered the space to see his mechanic slouched over her desktop, cheek smushed against her forearm she was using as a pillow. Her expression was peaceful as snores echoed in the room. Blue light illuminated her face in the dark.
Boothill’s lips pressed together in a thin closed lipped smile. He set aside the parts quietly, then moved over to her sleeping form. His robotic hands gently slid under her legs and back, picking her up. He quietly carried her over to the couch and lay her down, brushing a stray hair out of her face. Reaching to his star-like medallion that was keeping his cape pinned to his jacket, he unclasped it and draped the cape on her.
”Ya work too hard, sweetheart,” he murmured, letting her rest as he curiously and rather nosily swiped the tablet from the workbench and began to analyze the blueprints. His cybernetic grey and red eyes scanned its contents and he hummed. “You’re tryin’ to fix my beacon..”
Oh he remembered when he first made that request when it was tampered with. It was the very thing that kept his foul language in check and it annoyed him every time he wanted to speak his mind. [Y/n]’s attempts at fixing it never seemed to work but he could tell she wouldn’t give up so easily.
After a bit of reading of her notes, he placed the tablet back on the workbench before sinking into the kind of stiff couch cushions. He leaned back and pulled his hat down over his face, deciding to take a nap as well. One of the reasons for his visit wasn’t just for repairs— it was a question.
Boothill was an observant person. Nothing could escape those cybernetically enhanced eyes of his. Not the deteriorating conditions of her workshop, the lack of chatter from her, or even the dark circles that were beginning to show under her [e/c] eyes. Something was up. And he was going to get to the bottom of it.
The Ranger’s body was put in a low powered mode as he closed his eyes. Tomorrow morning he’d pry the answer out of her. He listened to her snores and slowly but surely was lulled to sleep.
But that darkness of slumber only conjured dreams of the past and be anything but restful. A reminder of his start at a second shot at life.