By the time she had reached the useless Deputy Beagle, she was cursing his idiocy, Nash, Powder Gangers, and the whole town of Primm in general. The burn on her arm was tingling painfully, an annoying reminder of the leader who just wouldn't die. His grunts could still be heard from the doorway he was hanging from.

Beagle was staring at her as if she were some super mutant with three heads, constantly glancing at her arm that was beginning to shed the dead skin and grow anew. "How are you doing that?"

Arria looked down at her arm in mild surprise. The burn was now just a bright red spot, about the size of a baseball. At least it wasn't mind-numbingly painful anymore. However, right now wasn't the time to ask those kinds of questions nor was it what she wanted to focus on; so, she shrugged and looked him over, trying to decide if he would run as soon as he was released. She didn't need his back-up, but she wanted him to suffer a bit more. If he had been better at his job and not a product of nepotism, she wouldn't have to jaunt around town as an errand girl for Nash. She would already have her info, and been half way to her next destination.

"Hello to you, too. And you're very welcome for saving your ass, by the way," she hissed, her eyes narrowing. Ungrateful pig.

He regained himself instantly. "I appreciate your efforts mightily ma'am, truly I do. Excuse my sorry excuse for an introduction. But, under the circumstances, you can see why I am so iffy, can't you?" He attempted to blind her with a winning smile, but she just narrowed her eyes further. "Ahem. Anyways, if you could untie me, I would appreciate your efforts all the more, ma'am," he added, pointedly eyeing his bondage.

She quirked her eyebrow and leaned against the table in front of the deputy, enjoying this feeling of power. She felt like a cat toying with a cowering mouse. "What's in it for me? Are you just going to scurry off and leave me here to clean up the mess?"

"N-not if you don't want me to ma'am," he gulped, every bit his part as the mouse. She watched his jugular pulse quicken with fear, and she began to tap on the table.

"Now here's the thing, sir," she said, her voice sweet honey. "I don't believe you. I have done plenty for you so far, but what have you done for me? Nothing. But there is something you can do for me."

He gulped again. "What is it?"

"Tell me everything you know about the Khans that passed through here along with a gentleman in a checkered suit. If I find your information satisfactory, I will let you go. However, if you refuse to cooperate, I can become your worst nightmare, and considering you're still bound, that option doesn't sound too good, does it? I could leave you here to rot. Capiche?" she warned, leaning in close to watch his eyes dilate. She smirked and leaned back.

"You wouldn't," he insisted, shaking his head. He opened his mouth with an air of indignation, but she quickly put one finger to his mouth, tutting.

"Oh, good sir, but I would. I so would. You mean nothing to me. You are a means to an end. I can just go tell Nash that I found your body mangled, and see what he could tell me about what I needed to know, since I had completed his little errand. However, I'd rather not have any more blood on my hands, especially not the blood of an innocent. So, you were saying, sir?"

According to the deputy they were heading south toward Nipton, then to Novac to meet someone. Who, it could not be said. Beagle had gotten caught soon after hearing that nugget of precious info. Arria had quickly let him free and ordered him to leave as fast as he could scamper. She was sick of his sniveling. He had started to cry soon after her threat. A definite man of courage he was. She rolled her eyes.

After letting the blubbering deputy free, she walked back over to the leader of the Powder Gangers, who was still hanging by his underwear on a door frame. He groaned when he saw her and spit blood in her direction.

"You missed," she chuckled, ruffling his hair. "Is that any way to treat the woman who let you live? I may have forgotten everything, but I do believe that's still considered impolite. Not that manners will serve you very much longer. I still have to figure out what to do with you. Any ideas?"

"Let me go," he gasped, and she busted out laughing.

"Why, sir, I think you were reading my mind!" she exclaimed. "But you are far too underdressed. Here, let me help you."

With that, she dragged him off the door, and threw him on the ground. He landed with a satisfying thud. She sped to the fire, where a piece of metal was heating up. She grabbed two nearby shirts and pulled it from the fire. The man tried feebly to shuffle away when he saw her marching toward him with a grim look on her face.

"A burn for a burn," she hissed as she flipped him on his back with a swift kick. She sat herself on top on him and pressed the red metal to his skin. By the time she was done, he had screamed himself horse and there was an angry "PG" burned into his forearm.

"Now, listen to me," she growled, throwing the metal to the side and grabbing a fist full of his hair. She brought his face close. He was swimming in and out of consciousness. "I said listen, and listen well, sir. I'm going to let you free now. You are charged with telling everyone what happened here today and that Primm is free. Understood?" He nodded halfheartedly. She yanked his head back again.

"Answer me, son. I can't hear the rocks in your head rattle. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, please, just let me go. Please," he begged. She smirked and threw his head down.

"Fine. Here, let me help you out." And with that, she got up, grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him right out of the Bison Steve Hotel, where she tossed him onto the hard concrete of the road. "And go see the doctor about those injuries. What a shame you burned yourself," she crooned, throwing a few caps onto his chest. He coughed up blood and passed out as she walked back into the hotel to clean out the rest of them.

When she was done, he was gone, with only a splotch of blood to show he was ever there. She almost felt bad for how she treated him. Almost. There was still a majority inside her that said he deserved it. Well, she may have possibly lost her temper a little bit. At least she knew for sure that she was no saint.

"Ma'am?" a plaintive voice pleaded. She looked around to find Beagle trying to make himself as small as possible. She quirked her eyebrow and turned to find out what he wanted. "I was just wondering if you could continue your campaign for this town and find us a sheriff."

She couldn't keep the surprise off her face. Really? Really? Was he serious? "Why can't you be sheriff? Weren't you being trained to be sheriff?"

He winced at the harshness of her words, and she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She didn't have the patience to deal with him anymore. "Who do you have in mind?" she sighed.