Layla walked with a bounce in her step, even though it was muggy as hell. Her good mood probably had to do with Boone's unscheduled visit last night. She'd woken up to find him gone in the morning. He'd left a Fancy Lad cake on the dresser as a note.

Boone was a very lucky man that she didn't get offended easily.

As it was, she was now in high spirits and happy to get some work done. She'd decided to take an early shift at the store, freeing up her night. She had a mind to go rooting around Caruthers' place when it got dark to see if there was any evidence to his disappearance.

She was nearly to the sheriff's office to make a delivery; a small box with 'Fragile' written all over it. She was sad the party was over, even with all the excitement that had come from it. But she did have to admit it was kind of a relief to have things back to normal, as it was easier to pry into people's business when they were bored.

Layla opened the door to the sheriff's office, deciding to give the man a hard time to break the ice.

"Juarez, why is it exactly you can't pick up your own-" Layla stopped in the doorway. Mrs. Williams quickly stepped away from Sheriff Juarez, who she'd been lip-locked with a moment earlier, and made a show of fixing her skirt.

"Oh!" Layla could feel her cheeks turning red. "Uh, here's your… um, stuff. Please pay for it atthestorewhenyougetthechance!" she cried, dropping the package on the table and running back out the door.

"Euaagh," the girl groaned outside a few moments later. "I didn't want to have to see that."

*.*.*

Betsy sighed as she ambled up to the bar; this assignment had taken a turn for the boring. They always did at some point, though the sniper had hoped having Layla on board would mean things would stay interesting. But the day had gone on slowly; Betsy had given up on anything interesting going down once Layla had gone to take a nap.

Merritt had surprisingly offered to take Betsy's and Jack of Spade's surveillance shift on the switching station, so they'd gone with Sterling and Bitter-Root to the bar for a drink. So far that had been just as boring. She had half a mind to find some darts for the board, but that sounded like a lot of work.

"Beer and an atomic cocktail," she said as the bartender walked up to her.

"Right away, miss," he answered with a smile, then set about getting the drinks. Betsy looked out at the crowd with a sigh; there wasn't a looker in the whole town. Well, she wagered if she gave the Mayor's daughter five years, she'd be right up Betsy's alley. But that was five years from now.

"Lonely? I can take care that tonight," a voice said from her side, and Betsy had to keep from groaning.

"Scram, junior," she said to Lansing as he got far too close for her liking, "before I embarrass you in front of your friends."

The quarry worker held up his hands. "Hey, don't be like that. I bet you'll get to like me if you give me a chance."

"Maybe…" she started as the bartender set the drinks she ordered on the bar, "if you grew a rack and a clue."

"Hey now, let's not go cutting off an entire half of the population," Lansing said. "There's a whole world of guys who'd love to have a piece of you."

Betsy laughed as she shook her head. "You didn't really think that line was going to work, did you?"

"Worth a shot," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Hey, Lansing, why are you barking up the dyke tree!" came a shout from further in the bar. Betsy looked over to see a few of the other quarry workers sitting at a table.

"He said he was sick of having to suck you guys off," Betsy called back. All the men at the table immediately started frowning.

"Hey, don't mind them," Lansing said smiling broadly. "Sure you don't want to give dick one last try?"

"I'll live without it," she said, grabbing the drinks from the bar. Heading back to the table the others had been watching from, she set the cocktail in front of Spades. Bitter-Root made a disgusted face.

"How can you drink that?"

"Oh, exc-c-c-cuse me for liking a drink that actually tastes good," the younger man said tartly.

"It's got enough rads to grow you another arm," Sterling said, sounding disapproving.

"I don't have them very often," Spades said, starting to sound a little defensive.

"Anyway," Bitter-Root said, "Betsy, you agree with me about Mitch, right?"

"What about him?" the woman asked as she pried the cap off her beer with her belt buckle.

"That he's not cut out for this unit," the man replied. Betsy frowned, giving herself a few moments to think about it.

"It's too early to tell," she answered, then noticed Bitter-Root's scowl. "Hey, we thought you weren't cut out when you first showed up, and you turned around."

"You what?" the man cried, then looked at Sterling. "Is that true?"

"You kept calling me 'old man,'" the older man said with a shrug, "and I heard the 'brittle hip' comments."

Now Bitter-Root looked mad. Betsy knocked her elbow into him.

"Don't take it personally; you were a little more abrasive than we were used to. You grew on us."

His frown lessened somewhat at that. "I still don't know about Mitch."

"Give him time," Sterling said sagely. "They can't all be part of the 'farm-boy club.'"

Bitter-Root laughed at that; he'd coined the term when Boone had rejoined the unit. Gorobets had a soft spot for farmer's sons like himself. Betsy looked over to Jack of Spades, who was also part of that club, expecting him to be slightly embarrassed.

She frowned when she saw him; he looked sickly.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked.

"I don't know… Don't feel good."

Sterling was looking him over now. "Looks like that cocktail made him sick. Go get him some water."

Betsy got to her feet and started making her way back to the bar. Lansing suddenly appeared at her side as she walked.

"What's the rush, something wrong?"

"None of your business," she said stiffly. The man held up his hands.

"Hey baby, you're not looking so good. Why don't you come sit down." He motioned to the door leading to the back of the saloon.

She glared at him. "Telling a woman she looks bad isn't the best pick up line." The quarry worker gave her a strange look.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm starting to feel pissed off. What the hell's wrong with-"

"Spades!" Bitter-Root cried. Betsy looked over to see Jack of Spades slumped over, Sterling and Bitter-Root moving to try to revive him. And then it suddenly made sense.

"Looks like you guessed wrong," she growled, looking back at Lansing.

"I uh, what?" the man said. "What are you talking about?"

"Next time you drug a girl's drink, make sure you're drugging the right one."

"Mother fucker!" Bitter-Root had clearly heard their exchange. He jumped up and headed their way.

Lansing was starting to look pale as he approached.

"Listen, I think you're making a mistake," he babbled as Bitter-Root got closer. "I was only-"

Betsy socked him in the face, and the man staggered backward. Before he could recover, she punched him again, this time in the gut.

Bitter-Root hung back, looking at the group of quarry workers Lansing had been sitting with. "Get up and I'll fucking shoot you," he said. The group stayed seated.

Lansing had yet to raise a hand against Betsy, which was fine by her as she punched him in the mouth again. This time it dropped him.

"All right!" a voice boomed from the door. Betsy looked up to see the Sheriff and his deputy striding in. "He's got the picture."

"I don't think he's had enough of it," the woman growled.

"It'll have to do," Juarez said, moving over and grabbing the downed man by the collar to pick him up. "What's going on here?"

"Lansing tried to drug the lady," the bartender spoke up. "He ended up getting that one." He pointed at Spades, who was propped up against the wall. Juarez shook his head.

"All right, let's go put you in a cell for the night to think about it." He looked up at Betsy. "That okay with you?"

"It's fine by me, but if Spades doesn't like it, I'll send him over," the woman answered. Juarez nodded, and the deputy started dragging the man out of the bar. The saloon quieted down soon after. Turning back to the bar, Betsy saw the barkeep setting down a glass of water.

"I'm sorry about that ma'am," he said. "If I'd seen him do it…"

"Don't worry about it," Betsy said, accepting the drink and walking back to Sterling and Spades, Bitter-Root in tow.

"Oh, what a cockhole," she said, sitting back down and placing the water in front of Jack of Spades.

"He was lucky that sheriff came around," Sterling said. "Looks like you relieved him of a few teeth."

"No, he's lucky Boone wasn't around. Remember that time in New Reno?" she said to Sterling, who gave a low whistle. Once he'd noticed Bitter-Root's questioning look, he shook his head.

"A couple junkies got handsy with Bets..."

"That was back when Boone was about as green as you could get," Betsy laughed. "He was still all eager and polite."

"Boone?" Bitter-Root asked, incredulous.

"We didn't think he had it in him to beat the stuffing out of three guys on his own," Sterling continued, "but he proved us wrong. He never could stand someone mistreating a lady."

"Betsy, a 'lady'?" Bitter-Root asked incredulously. He ducked under Betsy's oncoming fist.

"W-w-w-what happened?" Jack of Spade slurred as he attempted to sit up.

"It's okay," Sterling said. "Betsy defended your honor."

"Oh… Good." He leaned back against the wall.

*.*.*

Mayor Williams sighed as he walked into the ballroom. Everything was just about back to normal after the party. The windows still needed to be replaced; they were just boarded up for now.

The sight might have angered him; those gung-ho snipers caused a lot of expensive damage, but he'd let it go. If they hadn't shown up, who knows what would have happened.

"Did that ranger take the opportunity to say he'd told you so?"

Clarke turned as he heard his son speak. The young man looked around the room with a faint frown.

"He was a bit more tactful than just coming out and saying it," the mayor answered.

Darren snorted. "I'm surprised he didn't rub your nose in it." He looked thoughtful for a moment before he continued. "I don't think any of us were prepared for the Mojave. Jackie acted like it was perfectly natural to get robbed in the middle of a party."

"These are wild lands," Clarke admitted, then grinned. "You're pretty sweet on Jackie, huh?"

The guarded look that came over his son wasn't a surprise; it was the face he was most used to.

"She's… nice. And not like the girls out of the NCR high-society."

"That's because she has to work for a living," Clarke grinned. "And she's got a mouth on her."

Now Darren was flat-out glaring at him. The elder Williams gave him a good-natured grin.

"Settling down with a nice girl like that is just the thing your mother and I would like to see you do. Instead of-"

"So that's what that dress was about, huh? Have you picked out a ring for her yet?"

"I can if you want me to," Clarke said, grinning further.

"You leave her alone and keep out of my business."

The elder Williams nodded distractedly.

"…Did you know that Vincent's gone missing?" Clarke asked casually, but carefully gauged his son's reaction. The younger man's face was neutral.

"I did."

"You wouldn't happen to have heard anything about it, would you?"

"No, sir," Darren said, using that guarded tone that immediately set Clarke off.

"He's incredibly important to this town," he said as his patience started to erode away.

"I'm sure the Crimson Caravan can send another representative if he doesn't show up," Darren said dismissively. He looked up at his father. "Seems to me having a talkative guy like Vincent shut up permanently would be a good thing for you."

"Darren," Clarke said warningly, "Vincent has been a friend of this family's for years." Darren had gone back to glaring openly at him.

"I've seen how you treat friends, father," he said stiffly. Clarke was about to answer when he noticed Katie standing near the door.

"Kate… I didn't see you there. How are you?" he asked. The girl gave him a sneer.

"Don't act like I didn't hear you. Either of you." Darren looked like was searching for something to say. Instead, he just threw up his hands and stalked off. Kate gave her father a final glare before leaving.

Mayor Williams sighed heavily before he started searching around for a bottle of whiskey.

*.*.*

Layla stepped out of her room with a yawn. That had been an excellent nap, thanks to the dip the temperature had taken. She saw thunderstorms in her future.

That suited her fine; she liked storms. Desert ones in particular were very exciting, and she starting thinking about scouting out a spot to go watch tonight. But, now that the sun was down, she'd probably sneak over to Caruthers' and peek around for evidence first.

She started for the saloon's main room when she remembered she hadn't turned her wiretap back on. Turning, she intended to go back to her room to switch it on in private when she found Boone at the end of the hallway. She leaned against the wall and gave him a nasty grin.

"Lost?"

He gave her a neutral scowl. Layla knew it wasn't prudent to stick around; anyone with a basic understanding of body language could probably see right through them. But this wasn't an opportunity she was going to waste.

"You soldier boys are always so good looking in your little uniforms." She stalked over, stopping just out of his reach. "But I hear you carry the big guns to compensate."

Now he was making that face he made when she teased him. It was stiffer than usual, probably because he wasn't supposed to engage her in public.

"Thanks for the cake," she whispered with a wink.

"Didn't want you to think the night was a waste," he responded quietly.

"Ganger attacks aren't really enough to ruin my night," she answered. "But you'll be happy to know that because of the confusion, I didn't have to to kiss Darren goodnight again," Layla added.

"You've kissed him?"

"On the cheek," the Courier said, noting his frown. "Craig Boone, are you jealous?" she whispered accusingly. "I thought we talked about this. And I thought you were okay with it?"

"I am," he said stiffly. Layla bit her lip to keep from smiling too much.

"Uh huh." Now she did let a smile spread on her face as she started walking by him, making sure to bump her hip into his. "Maybe I'll go see if Darren's busy tonight," she said airily. "He sure knows how to treat a lady."

Now Boone was definitely glaring at her. She crossed her arms over her chest making a point to squish her cleavage noticeably.

"Something wrong?" she asked, then changed her strategy by slowly undoing the top buttons of her shirt. "You look irritated."

She could almost hear something snap in the man as he reached out and grabbed her. He pressed her into the wall and had his mouth on hers in time to silence her giggles. She quickly broke off the kiss.

"Broom closet, broom closet," she whispered hurriedly. They rushed over to the door and squeezed into the tiny room.

"This is a really bad idea," Layla said breathlessly as she started loosening the belt on his armor.

"I know," Boone agreed. "Just keep quiet."

"You keep quiet," she laughed. "I'm not loud."

He silenced another giggle by kissing her as he started hiking up the fabric of her skirt. Layla suddenly found herself very happy with her hooker outfit.

*.*.*

Ranger Morton felt the last few strands of his patience about to snap as he led Gorobets down the hallway. The man trailing behind him was probably still giving him the same confused look he'd sported when the ranger had asked him to follow.

Morton had been heading to the bathroom when he saw the broom closet close after a puff of violent red hair had disappeared inside. It hadn't taken long to figure out what was happening. Coming to a stop in front of the closet, he faced the lieutenant.

"Would you please ask your subordinate to stop endangering the mission." he said tersely as he pulled the door open. The Courier and Specialist Boone were in the closet, partially clothed bodies entwined. The Specialist managed to slap a hand over the girl's mouth as she shrieked at the intrusion.

Gorobets closed the door quickly, took a breath, then sighed.

"Can I see you two in the Old Sloan office in ten minutes?" It wasn't a request by the man's tone. There was a pause before Boone's muffled answer filtered through the door.

"Yes, sir."


Thank you for reading! Give a review if you get the chance and I'll see you on Wednesday!