Hello and welcome everyone. This is a collection of one-shots exploring the Courier's antics with the various New Vegas companions as hinted or referenced in my other story "Dead Man's Hand". If you haven't read DMH, I would recommend that you do so. Not necessary, but definitely recommended. The whole structure of this collection of short stories is to elaborate on mentionings in DMH and such. I will update it as I reveal more and more past tidbits in DMH. So now I give my usual plea to you dear readers. Read, enjoy, and review!

November 10, 2278

22:30

Mojave Outpost

Cass was drunk.

Again.

For the better part of the last two weeks Cass had attempted to lose herself in a whiskey induced stupor at the bar of Mojave Outpost. Normally, the fiery red head could hold her liquor with bar goers twice her weight, but normally didn't apply when one was trying to drown one's sorrows. And so, there she sat; loosely perched on a bar stool with a wall of bottles surrounding her lowered head.

The bar top was nowhere near clean, but the cool wood felt pleasant against her flushed skin. She grabbed her current bottle and attempted to pour herself another drink. After sloshing more whiskey onto the bar top instead of in the glass, Cass opted to drink from the bottle instead. The whiskey burned all the way down.

Just like it was supposed to.

However, the fire in her throat was nothing compared to the burning rage she was harboring beneath the haze of alcohol.

Cass did not want to be drunk in the bar of Mojave Outpost. In fact, there were many other bars she'd rather be drunk at, but here she was trapped at Mojave Outpost.

"Paper pushing, fuck!" she muttered into the bottle as she slouched back onto the bar top.

Her anger was directed towards Major Knight. Knight was the chief administrative officer of Mojave Outpost and one of the soldiers second in command to Ranger Jackson. Knight handled all the official day to day duties of the outpost. He made it a personal mission to make regulation into law. Because of this he and Cass had crossed paths before. Her prickly demeanor and all around abrasive manner had caused her to immediately butt heads with the major whenever her water caravan passed through the outpost.

But this time was different. Her caravan was across the Mojave in ashes. A raider attack had burned it to the ground, but instead of being able to run salvage or better yet hunt for revenge, Cass was stuck at the Mojave Outpost because of Major Knight.

The major had put the highway on lock down. Some sort of danger, Cass didn't really care, had made the road unfit for travel and so, no one was permitted to take their caravan and go. While Cass had no caravan she was not exempt in Major Knight's eyes and so here she was.

Trapped with nothing, but booze and time.

The bell hanging from the door on a frayed piece of rope tinkled gently.

"Evening, fellas!" called Lacey, the bartender, to the trio of men who had walked in.

They were clad in the leather armor commonly worn by mercenaries hired to protect the caravans. Seeing them just made Cass wonder if she'd done enough to protect her own caravan. Or if she could have done more.

"Beer. We'll be over there. And keep em coming." called the leader of the three men. They wandered over to a booth in the corner and sat down.

They were apparently out of the job now that the caravans were frozen. Cass smiled to herself. Someone else was going to try to drink away their sorrows at the bar tonight. Misery loves company after all.

Lacey delivered the men their drinks which they promptly started to sullenly nurse.

"Damn NCR. We don't get paid nothing now." started one of them.

" Jesus, Eddie. We've heard it already." snapped one of the other two.

"I'm just saying-" he continued.

"Can it, Eddie!" spoke the leader.

"Yeah, boss." he muttered. The other one just smirked at him.

"Just drink your drink and shut up. And wipe that stupid smile off your face, Joe."

Joe's smirk slid off his face. "Yes, boss."

"We're going to drink our drinks in peace and then, who knows, maybe we'll get some... relaxation later."

With this he glanced over at Cass who was again tossing her bottle back. She didn't notice him or at least pretended not to.

The door clattered again, but this time only one pair of footsteps entered. Cass didn't even glance up from her drink. She heard the stool next to hers slide back across the floor with a squeal.

Yeah, this asshole is going to regret that. She thought to herself.

"Howdy, stranger! Anything I can get for you?" called Lacey.

A tired man's voice replied, "Refill on my canteen, whatever you've got on the grill, and Sunset if you've got it."

"Coming right up. What about you, Cass? You need anything else?"

"Fuck off and get me another bottle." came the slurred reply.

Lacey just sighed and went about preparing the man's meal. She swiped a brahmin steak of the grill onto a plate and grabbed a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla from the fridge. Kicking the door of the fridge shut, she brought the meal to the man. He silently handed her a handful of caps and his canteen.

He uncapped the bottle and took a quick swallow and sighed with contentment.

Cass hiccuped and snorted into her drink.

"Want some? Or is it not strong enough for you?"

Cass snorted again and peered up at the stranger from under her cowboy hat. He was a younger man, probably late twenties, early thirties. His skin was tanned, but not from the Wasteland sun, it looked natural. He was wearing a khaki shirt and metal plate armor across his chest. The metal was scoured with dirt and ash. He wore a thigh holster over his cargo pants on his right leg. His left had a leather kneepad sewn in for stability while shooting.

All in all he looked weathered and tired. He'd seen some action.

He tilted his hat back and began cutting his steak. Cass looked up at his face. Above a frayed mustache sat a broken nose, above that a pair of weary brown eyes and above that… a bullet scar in his temple.

He'd definitely seen some action! Who was this guy?

"Hello? You in there, lady?" he asked.

Cass realized she'd been staring and in response raised her middle finger to the man. He sighed and went back to his food.

Lacey bustled over to the table with Cass's next bottle. She intervened before Cass could cause more offense to her new customer.

"Don't mind her, mister. She's not exactly in her right mind at the moment."

"I can see that."

"Not that it matters. Drunk or sober, Cass isn't what I would call friendly.

"Ah." The man turned his attention back to his steak.

Sensing that the conversation was over, Lacey decided to check on her other customers and leave the stranger to himself. Whoever he was, he clearly wasn't going to socialize with her. Oh, well. Time to go get more drinks for the drunks.

The silence held for several more minutes. As Cass was about to rudely inquire into the mysterious stranger's business, he broke the silence first.

"You're about to have some unwelcome attention."

"Excuse me?" she asked haughtily.

"Behind us. No. Don't look. The mercenaries at the table. They've been talking about you. It hasn't been chivalrous or gentlemanly talk at all."

"I'm pretty sure chivalry died before the bombs fell. What do you care anyway?"

The man paused in the midst of chewing a particular tough piece of steak.

"Not sure. Maybe chivalry isn't dead after all."

Cass gave a bitter laugh. "Ha! Bullshit! If you think that-"

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by a gloved hand clamping down on her shoulder.

"Evening, sweetheart." came a greasy voice. It was the leader of the mercenaries.

"We were wondering if you wouldn't mind joining us at our table. The boys and I, well, we're real lonely over there and we could use some company." On the last word he lifted his hand to stroke Cass' fiery hair.

She swatted his hand away. "I'd rather keep the Brahmin company. Go fuck yourself."

Cass tried to turn back to her drink, but one of the mercenary's cronies grabbed her arm and spun her back around on her chair.

"See now. I wasn't asking. You come with us, we all have a good time, and at the end, maybe, if you behave, we throw some caps your way."

Cass' face darkened and she spat in his face.

The mercenary boss's face simmered with barely concealed rage. "Joe. Eddie." he instructed.

His men grabbed Cass by her arms and hauled her to her feet. The boss gave her a swift punch in the gut. Cass doubled over coughing and her hat fell to the ground.

"Now, that. That wasn't very smart at all. We were all just going to have fun, but now, not so much."

Lacey chose this moment to come back into the bar from the back. She dropped the crate she was carrying with a clatter.

"Jesus, Cass! What have you done now!?" she exclaimed.

"Why's this got to be my fault?" Cass groaned from her position between Joe and Eddie.

The boss whirled towards Lacey, pulling his pistol from his holster.

"I'd go right back where you came from if I were you!"

"Now, guys, no trouble in here. You don't want the soldiers to come down on you!"

"They won't know a damn thing if you don't say anything, now will they?"

Lacey looked at Cass and then at the man pointing the gun at her.

"Sorry, Cass, you're on your own. You brought this on yourself."

"S'not my fault." Cass protested weakly.

The boss turned slowly on the spot.

"SAME GOES FOR ANYONE ELSE IN HERE! IF YOU'VE GOT A PROBLEM, THEN GET OUT!"

The announcement was much more theatrical than anything. Only a few patrons were there at this hour. Two caravaneers hurried out leaving only the mercenaries, Cass, and the stranger.

The boss walked over to where the man was still eating his steak.

"I take you must have misheard me. No one is stupid enough to stay here."

"Heard you just fine." he replied without looking up.

"Then why are you still here?"

"Haven't finished my meal." he said tersely.

The boss laughed loudly. "You haven't finished your fucking meal? HA! You stupid son of a BITCH!"

He swept his arms out and knocked the man's plate and drink to the ground. The man sighed and turned to face the mercenary with a cold look in his eye.

"Do you really want to do this?" He asked.

The boss just stood there with a bewildered look on his face.

"Boys," he called softly, "We have to teach our friend here a lesson."

Eddie and Joe released Cass (who slumped to the floor) and strode over to stand next to their boss.

"Fine then," the man shrugged and stood up. "I should tell you though. Your shoe is untied."

Eddie and Joe laughed stupidly. The boss just shook his head. "You really think I'm going to fall for that?"

The stranger just stared into his foe's eyes.

The boss maintained eye connect for several second. His eyes flicked to the floor.

The stranger darted forward and drove his fist into the boss's face. Before anyone had time to react, he'd whirled around him and slammed his elbow into Joe's throat. Eddie tried to lunge for him, but was blocked by his employer. Joe clutched his throat and the man violently kicked him in the knee with a sickening crunch. Eddie lunged again and this time succeeded in wrapping his arms around his quarry. The boss wiped blood from his nose before leveling his gun on the man.

"That was very, very stupid. You were just going to get an ass kicking, but now you're going to die. Any last words?"

"Yeah. Your shoe is still untied."

The boss's eyes flicked downwards again.

The man rammed his head backwards into Eddie's nose. Blood spurted out and Eddie's grip slipped slightly. The stranger slid down to the ground and jumped forward. He grabbed the boss's hand and twisted it violently. Bones cracked and the gun fell to the floor. The boss swung a wild punch and by luck landed it on the man's jaw. The stranger staggered backwards and tripped over Joe who was still on the ground.

"GET HIM!" Shouted the boss.

The stranger staggered to his feet just to be tackled by Eddie.

Right out the window.

The two landed in the dirt with a billow of dust. Eddie kneeled on his chest and began slamming his fists into his head. The man struggled to raise his arms to cover himself. The boss and Joe limped out of the bar.

"Now you die."

The boss raised his pistol in his none broken hand.

The crack of a gunshot rang out.

But it wasn't the one the stranger was expecting.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh! My hand!" screamed the boss. He clutched his bleeding hand to his chest.

"All of you, back off. Now." came a cold, female voice from above them.

Wreathed in darkness on the roof of the bar stood one of the Mojave rangers.

The mercenaries backed away nervously. More soldiers ran out of the barracks and the outpost at the sound of the shot. They formed a loose semi-circle around the combatants.

The ranger on the roof strode down the access ramp with her sniper rifle drawn.

"I want those three in custody now. Make sure that poor bastard isn't dead too."

The NCR troopers moved to carry out her commands and hurried to round up the mercenaries. Two of them knelt next to the stranger.

"Ma'am, um, I think you should see this."

"What is it, Knight?"

The ranger walked over to Major Knight and the trooper kneeling next to the beaten man.

"You've got be fucking kidding me." she said with disbelief.

"Er… about?" mumbled the stranger weakly.

Ghost turned to address the major again. "Major Knight, kindly restrain Courier 6."

The man brightened up from his position on the ground. "Ah yes. That. Um, well you see. I don't really know who that is. I got shot in the head; it was a whole thing and well… amnesia?"

Ghost smirked mirthlessly at him. "Normally you're better at lying than that."

"Maybe because I'm telling the truth?" he offered as Knight hauled him to his feet. His eyebrows jumped up as if realizing an epiphany. "Oh no… I didn't sleep with you did I?"

"What!? NO!"

He looked at Ghost suspiciously. "Are you sure? Most of the other women who I've met and are angry at me for no reason, it's because I slept with them."

"I didn't sleep with you!" Ghost insisted. "Knight, are you finished yet?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Then you can go lock him up where I can't see him." Ghost glared at the man, now with his hands shackled behind his back. He just shrugged nonchalantly.

"And here I was hoping we could solve this amicably. Tell me is the border between California and the Mojave at the statues over there," he pointed with his chin, "Or is there like a grey area where you'll still shoot me in the back?"

Knight looked at him in confusion. "What? Why?"

The man shrugged again. He glanced over to notice Cass stumbling out of the bar as Knight led him past her and around the corner. "No reason. Oops, I tripped."

Before Knight could react to the odd statement the man keeled forward out of Knight's grasp. Before slamming into the ground he tucked and rolled, bringing his legs up and under the cuffs. He rolled to his feet and swung his fists clasped together into Knight's jaw. The major dropped with a sharp exhalation of air.

The man knelt down next to him and started digging through his pockets. "Sorry about that. I'm sure you're a perfectly pleasant bureaucrat like all the other NCR officers I've met." Grinning victoriously, he found the keys to his cuffs and tilted his hands awkwardly to unlock them. The crunch of gravel disturbed this process.

"I'd really be very grateful if you didn't shoot me in the back," he said quickly.

Cass stepped around in front of him. "Now why would I do that to the man who saved me?"

"Oh! Hello, drunk lady. I mean Cass."

Cass slapped him in the side of the head, knocking his hat askew and dropped his pack next to him. "You're kind of a jackass aren't you?"

"It's a fault, I'll admit."

"Anyway, I figured you'd want your stuff. Now, give me those keys before you drop them somewhere. We've got to go before Ghost gets herself together to gloat that she's got you locked up. What'd you do anyway?"

"Haven't the faintest. Well, except I'm fairly certain I did sleep with her. Can't remember, but she seems just a little too mad."

"You were serious with that amnesia crap?"

The man smiled brightly as his manacles clicked undone. "As serious as a shot to the head. From what I've gathered I was a courier and I was robbed."

Cass shook her head and spat on the ground. "Damn. That's low. You don't rob couriers. You just don't fuck with the man carrying your mail. So what do I call you, courier?"

With a smile the man replied, "Knox will do just fine."

"And how do you know your name is Knix?" Cass asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Knox," he corrected.

"Whatever. How'd you know?"

"Written on my underwear," Knox answered as he slung his backpack over his shoulders.

"Seriously?"

"No, not seriously," Knox said caustically. "I found it on a delivery invoice at the Mojave Express in Primm. My underwear, really…" he muttered.

"Don't snap at me, I just rescued you!" Cass hissed at him.

"Rescued? You unlocked my cuffs… with the keys I already had. Let's not be too generous with your part in this."

Cass crossed her arms and glared at him. "Fine, go get yourself fucked. When you get caught trying to sneak out of here it won't be my problem."

Knox dropped the sarcastic tone and was suddenly all smiles. "By the way you say that I assume you have something to offer me in the ways of help."

"It's really creepy how you do that; go from insults to smiles. Kind of two-faced."

"Again, it's a fault. I'm working on it. Now about that help?"

"I know when the shift changes are," Cass said. "Sitting at bar for two weeks, looking out the window gave me plenty of time to figure it all out. Ten minutes, east gate."

Knox thanked her as he started to walk away, but quickly stopped as she tagged along next to him. "Er… what are you doing?"

"I'm going with you. I can't leave the outpost officially, so if I'm going to sneak away and commit a crime, then I'm going to do it with someone who can handle themselves in a fight and isn't a complete asshole." The way Cass said it made it clear the topic wasn't up for debate.

Knox still tried. "Not to be rude," he said rudely, "But I'm not really looking for a companion on the road at the moment, or ever actually. So, no."

"I'll scream if you don't take me."

"Really? Scream?" asked Knox mockingly. "Don't want to try swooning first?"

Cass slid her shotgun of her shoulder. "Good point. I could always shoot you."

Knox eyed the gun and Cass, weighing his options in his head. "Fine," he muttered darkly, "But you better not slow me down."

"I'm a caravaneer," Cass said as she pushed past him in the direction of the East gate, "you'd better not slow me down."

November 11, 2278

06:00

Primm

The two weary travelers stumbled into Primm before sunrise. Only the desk manager was awake at the Bison Steve. Knox tossed some caps at him for a room without even counting. The manager handed him a key and Knox trudged off with Cass close on his heels.

"So I take you're not going to get yourself a room?" he asked.

"Why? You've already got one," she answered with a yawn. Walking all night had been taxing.

"Silly me," Knox muttered. "Maybe, just maybe, Cass, I don't want to share a room with you. Maybe I'm worried you're some kind of psychopath or something."

Cass laughed loudly, earning a "shut the fuck up" from behind one of the hotel's doors. She stowed the laughter and replied quietly with a grin, "You're afraid of me being a psychopath? Which of us was the one being arrested a few hours ago? And you're afraid of me?"

"Absolutely," Knox replied deadpan as he unlocked their door. "You're going to use your feminine wiles or something to steal my money and my organs."

Cass smirked and pushed Knox into the dark room. "Well, speaking of feminine wiles, I still haven't thanked you for saving my life."

Knox stared at her, momentarily baffled until she started unbuttoning her flannel shirt. "Ah yes, the traditional means of thanks for being saved from rapists is to have sex with your savior."

Cass's arms dropped to her sides, her shirt half unbuttoned. "Are you trying to kill the mood?"

"Yes," Knox said shortly. He gingerly leaned over the partially undressed woman and shut the door. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Cass. Unless of course it's in the sense where you and I sleep next to each other in the one bed in here because you insisted on sharing the room. But only if you don't hog all the blankets."

Cass's expression flickered from confused, to hurt, to flat our angry. She pushed past Knox with a muttered, "Whatever," and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from a shelf and marched over to the room's table where she cracked open the bottle and started helping herself to generous amounts of its contents.

"Great, she's drinking again," Knox said softly to himself. Louder he said, "I don't think I like drunk you."

Cass flipped him off over her shoulder and spat out, "too fucking bad!"

Knox sighed and dropped his pack to the floor before collapsing on the bed, asleep within seconds.

November 11, 2278

10:00

The Bison Steve Hotel

Knox awoke only a few hours later, but still felt immensely refreshed. He cracked his neck and sat up in bed. Sun was shining, birds were chirping, Cass was crying.

Wait. Cass was crying? That seemed wrong.

Cass was slumped over the table, tears streaming down her face. Several empty bottles littered the table around her and in one hand she firmly clasped one about half full. Her hat lay on the floor with her bag.

Knox slowly approached, unsure of how to proceed. "Uh… Cass? You alright?"

Cass's red-rimmed eyes turned on him unfocusedly. "Cassidy Caravans," she said hoarsely. "My caravan. It's gone," she croaked.

Knox moved to take a seat next to her, but the overwhelming sent of liquor forced him across the table instead. "Yeah, I gathered that much," he said. "Sorry about that."

"Why should you be sorry?" Cass asked miserably. "Is started Cassidy Caravans by myself. No help. Not my mom. She didn't know how to run a caravan. And definitely not my dad," she said bitterly. "All he gave me was a name. Rose of Sharon Cassidy. And this."

She gestured emphatically with the whiskey bottle she was holding.

"When I got to the Mojave business was good. I did good work trading water. Until the raids started. Between the Vipers, the Jackals, and the Fiends the only safe caravans are the Legion's. While they don't have a good stance on women, politics, or pretty much anything else, they do know how to protect a caravan. The NCR just kept us all cooped up at Mojave Outpost. While I was stuck there my caravans were hit. Burned to the ground. Bodies, Brahmin, and everything. Knight wouldn't let me leave the outpost to figure out what had happened. Everything I built is now ashes."

Cass's voice caught and she took another swig of whiskey.

A tear rolled down the side of her face.

Knox was blown away to see the belligerent women he'd met the night before turn to this.

"If you ever tell anyone I'm crying I'm going to rip off your balls and show them to you."

Right back in his comfort zone.

"Cass if you ever want help finding out what happened to your caravan-"

"No. It's dust. Nothing's going to change that. I'm going to the Crimson Caravan and I'm selling them the name Cassidy Caravans. They can buy it back from the NCR. I can at least get a few caps for a name. Then I can go find a bar and forget all about it."

"Cass, maybe-"

"I know. I'm a drunken idiot. Every time I've got something good I wipe it all away with whiskey. People used to call me Whiskey Rose. Not anymore though. At least not to my face."

Silence filled the night air for a second, but it was broken as Knox scooted his chair back and stepped over to the hotel bar and grabbed the only two remaining bottles of alcohol in the room. He walked over to the window and pulled it open. Before Cass's very confused eyes he threw both full bottles out the window.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Cass shouted as she got unsteadily to her feet.

"Helping you," Knox said simply. "Now give me that bottle." Knox held his hand out for the half full bottle Cass was still holding.

"No fucking way!"

"You have a drinking problem."

"No shit!"

"Cass," Knox warned, "give me the goddamned bottle." He advanced a step and Cass took a step back.

She tripped on the chair she'd been sitting in and tumbled backwards. Knox lunged forwards grabbing at her last bottle. Cass screeched and kicked and punched, but Knox managed to wrestle the bottle out of her grasp and hold her at bay by planting a hand in her face and pushing backwards.

Cass toppled back over the bed, cursing as she smacked her head into the floor. She scrabbled to her feet as Knox whipped the final bottle of whiskey out the window. Cass felt her soul break as she heard the glass shatter on the ground below.

"NOOOOO!" she howled and dove for the window.

Knox wrapped his arms around her waist before she could jump after it and threw her back onto the bed. "Sit down!" he commanded.

Cass's mouth clamped shut in surprise.

"Here's how it is. You're an alcoholic. That's causing you problems. I'm a nice guy so I'm going to help you. You and I… we're going to the Crimson Caravan Company. You're going to sell the name Cassidy Caravan's to them. Clean slate. Fresh start, whatever you want to call it. And damn it… you're going to do it sober!"

Cass stared at him in shock as he stood adamantly before her. She hiccupped. No one had ever actively tried to help her like this. Sure, she'd tried to go clean before, but she'd never succeeded. And now here was a man she hadn't even known for twenty-four hours telling her he was going to help her.

Her mind couldn't quite handle the load of processing an altruistic action of this personal magnitude.

So she didn't.

Knox sighed and awkwardly patted Cass on the shoulder as she started crying again before swiftly exiting the room. Cass barely even noticed he was gone until the door clicked open again and Knox reentered a bottle in either hand.

"Relax. It's Nuka," he explained as Cass's eyes lit up in suspicion. He motioned to the table and set the bottles down. "Have a seat?"

Slowly Cass meandered over and sat across from him. She stared at the bottle of Nuka-Cola unwaveringly, but didn't drink. Knox sat watching her, his bottle sitting unopened as well.

"Are you gonna drink that? Or just stare at it? I robbed a vending machine for it."

Cass gave a watery chuckle at that and dried her eyes on the heel of her hand before sniffing loudly, clearing her throat, and spitting out a wad of phlegm into the sink.

"Lovely," commented Knox. Cass either didn't hear him or chose to ignore it.

She instead uncapped the bottle of soda and took a deep swig of it. After a few more moments of silence she took another sip, slightly shorter. Again, another sip. Within a few minutes the bottle sat empty in front of her. She eyed Knox's hungrily. He grinned and slid it across the table to her.

"Go ahead. But please don't develop diabetes. That would be much harder for me to help you with."

Cass laughed again and assured, "that shouldn't be a problem." She tipped the bottle back and slammed its contents. Knox watched in silent amazement as the sugary brown liquid disappeared down her throat rapidly.

With a sharp inhale Cass released the bottle from her lips and slammed it onto the table. She stood up and crossed around to Knox's side. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet.

"Uh, Cass?"

Cass shushed him as she undid the last few buttons on her shirt and pulled it off, leaving her standing in nothing, but her blue jeans and bra.

"I thought my whole stance on thank you sex was established," Knox half joked, half warned.

"This isn't me thanking you," Cass said as she reached behind her back to undo her bra. "This is me telling you that you are the most genuinely nice person I've met in years and that if I don't do something to start a relationship with you, I'll be kicking myself forever. If that makes you feel awkward you can take me on a date later."

With that she grabbed the lapels of Knox's shirt and dragged him to the bed with a startled, "Ah!"

Knox, to his credit, recognized that this was a situation Cass was not going to budge on. Or rather she would budge. Lots and lots of budging.

Maybe it wasn't so bad to have a companion. A Nuka fueled, fiery haired, hell-cat of a companion. Women didn't get much better than that, did they?

Cass snapped in front of Knox's face. "Hey! Stop daydreaming," she commanded. "Audience participation is required."

"Sorry, shot in the head and all that."

"I can already tell that you're going to try to pull that one out any time I ask you to do something. That's not going to fly in this relationship."

"Oh? Is that what this is? A relationship?" Knox remarked as Cass pulled his shirt off.

Cass sat up, straddling him. "Am I wearing clothes?" Knox shook his head. "Are you wearing clothes?" Knox shook his head again. "Was any sort of monetary transaction involved?" Knox gave a third shake of his head.

"Then yes, this is a relationship. And you're my lucky boyfriend."

"What about casual sex?" Knox asked cheekily.

Cass shut him up by mashing her lips against his.

Nope. Women did not get much better than Cass, Knox decided. And this… relationship… wasn't too bad either.

In fact, he'd classify it as good. Great even.

Ta-da! That was fun wasn't it? To those of you who haven't read DMH I won't reveal any spoilers as to where this all goes. To those of you who have read it, man, it's just going to drive you batty waiting to see how we get from here to DMH. The Whiskey Rose will probably have two to three more oneshots leading up to the future in DMH. Some other bits and pieces to look forward to will be Raul and Boone. Maybe Veronica, but she gets some serious page time in DMH so we'll see. Anyway, please leave a review before you check out and if you haven't already go read "Dead Man's Hand" and the rest of the "Shattered Illusions" stories.