Maggie strode into Novac with an attitude, just as the sun was rising into the sky. Her attitude hadn't been helped by the wasteland's unrelenting barrage of critters, hot sun, and dehydration. And the worst of it, the absolute worst―was Boone.

Been acting weird ever since the fight, though she'd expected he'd gotten over whatever problems he had after he let her cry on his shoulder. But no, something was still going on with him. It made her nervous because she didn't know how he was gonna react to shit. He'd almost shot her, he'd given her that weird hug, and―well, he'd reacted just as weird when she'd cut her hair. The trip back to Novac, he'd alternated between cold machine and looking like he wanted to bash his head off a rock.

She needed a grasp on that, a way to figure him out. Still wanted to travel with him. Carla had picked him, and she picked good. The asshole could shoot like nothing else! Maggie grinned. She didn't even need to have a gun around Boone. He was a gun.

And she was the bullet. Fuck, yeah!

But he'd already shown he could take her down. Maggie didn't like traveling with someone who could probably kill her. He wasn't gonna let her get away with biting him again, if they had another fight like the one by the lake bed. She'd have to step up her game, get craftier. Already been sharpening her fingernails, just in case.

It was looking like they were gonna fight again, anyway. More Legion patrols taken down between Novac and Nipton. More Legion nastiness in Searchlight, and some NCR too. Maggie had almost started a fight with the commanding officer down there. Didn't want to kill him, just wanted to slap him for his attitude.

This ain't Vegas, she told herself. She couldn't just punch someone and walk away, laughing. It didn't work like that, out here.

Boone had wrapped an arm around her stomach and held her back when he saw her feet squaring on the ground. She didn't hit him for that one. Felt bad for fighting him to begin with, and he knew she was inclined to start fights. Quick thinking kept her from doing something really stupid, like get her ass handed to her by some soldiers with better weapons and training. But if he kept grabbing her like that, full body restraining her, she was gonna knock his block off.

He'd acted real fucking strange after he'd let her go, too. And Maggie had no fucking clue how to deal with him. She'd ignored it, until now.

Her attitude was pissy when they came back to Novac. She told Boone to go the fuck home. Go home and sleep, and leave her the hell alone for a few hours. Let her have a moment of damn peace.

"If you start any shit, I'm not bailing you out," he muttered, and made his way across the motel lot.

Maggie watched him leave. Hell. She rubbed her face roughly and pinched her cheeks to make them red. Okay, plans. Plans, plans, plans. Wait. She glanced up at movement to her right.

Her feet hit the ground hard, striding over to Manny, the local she'd talked to when she first came to this stupid little town. Boone's ex-friend, or whatever. He was exiting his motel room and heading up to the dinosaur as she accosted him.

"You," she said, pointing at him as she walked across the rubble. "I need to talk to you."

He turned to her with a puzzled look, calm and friendly enough. "Yea―wha―" His brows drew together, looking at her hair. "What―"

"You were Boone's friend," she said, reigning in her attitude for a moment.

"I was," he said, staring at her. "We're not so friendly right now. ...What the hell happened to your hair?"

"Shut up about my fucking hair!" she snapped. Her hand went to her side, but she stopped herself. Got too used to grabbing at that stupid straight edge.

"Sorry, but you―" He raised a eyebrow and made a face. "You look... Your hair's the wrong color, but..."

"You gotta explain to me why the hell Boone's acting all weird," Maggie said, gesturing back at the motel rooms. "He's all steely and then he gets kind of―" she growled in frustration. "I dunno, soft or something. Starts shaking. Almost shot me the other day. Been acting weird."

Manny stared at her for a moment. "...You look like his wife," he said, carefully. "She's gone. Probably back to Vegas, she kept trying to convince him to go." He glanced back at the motel. "Something like that, might be why he's acting so odd. He hasn't said a word to me since Carla went missing."

Maggie screwed up her mouth and glared at the man. Why the hell would Carla want to go home? It made no sense. She would have gotten her ass handed to her in Vegas, even if she dragged Boone along. You didn't fuck over the Family. Carla knew better.

"Heard it before," she grumbled. She knew he was confusing her for Carla, already. Didn't like that. She needed more information. Something more to help her understand how to deal with him. She put her hand on her hip and leaned back, looking the man up and down. "So why aren't you friends no more."

"Long story," Manny said.

"Fucking try me," Maggie snarled.

"Me and Carla, we didn't see eye-to-eye on some things. We had some pretty big arguments." He looked like he was tired of thinking about it. "See, I grew up in North Vegas. Me and my cousins. We were some bad seeds. Got in with a gang. I loved it."

Maggie remembered North Vegas, back in the day. "Great Khans," she said. Those assholes were worse than the Rough Riders, raiding and fighting and burning. But not worse than the Slither Kin. You couldn't outsmart someone willing to cut off their own hand and slap you with it, just to prove a point. Man, it used to be fucking insane out here, before House showed up.

Benny'd had a couple of Khans with him at the cemetery. She gritted her teeth, staring at the wall opposite her. Just another couple names on the list of people she needed to take down. Another slit throat or smashed face. She turned her attention back to Manny.

"Yeah," he answered. "But something happened, and I couldn't handle it anymore. So, I enlisted. Earned my future. Brought down my best friend to share that future with me." He shook his head in disgust. "And here was this woman who was too good for it, trying to take him away. So yeah. I didn't see eye-to-eye with the bitch."

If there was ever such as thing as a good and evil switch, Maggie knew how hers was flipped. She drew back her fist and laid a blow on Manny's jaw, feeling her knuckles split from the force. "That bitch was my fucking sister!" she yelled, grabbing at her hip for her machete.

Manny backed up and grabbed his chin, one arm up to fend her off. "What the hell, woman!"

Maggie was not proud to admit she started another fight. It would serve her right, this time, if she finally got her ass kicked―Manny's fist drew back and she dodged a punch, backing up with her fists near her chin.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Manny snapped. One of his jabs caught her on the nose, sending pain spiking through her head and through the gunshot scar. It just pissed her off more.

"Getting revenge!" she yelled, and struck out at him. He grabbed her fist and twisted her arm, turning her around, pulling her hand up in a painful jerk and pinning her elbow to her back. Maggie growled and raised her elbow to jab him in the head, but he pushed her forward and she fell awkwardly. Landed on her shoulder and took some gravel to the face, yelping.

Hell! Maggie turned onto her stomach and pushed herself up when a pair of heavy feet strode across the motel lot. Aw, shit. Thought she was gonna be in a lot of trouble. But it was worse than that.

Boone stomped over, grabbed Manny by the collar, and smashed him in the teeth, hitting him repeatedly. "Goddamn―" Maggie jumped up and snagged Boone by the side of his collar, yanking him to the side. "Fucking hell, let him go, you idiot!"

He was gonna get them shot! Manny was making noise, mostly protests, as Boone hit him repeatedly in the face. He was right, hand to hand was not his forte, but for a fistfight like this he only needed strength. Already had the element of surprise.

"Boone!" she growled. He wasn't listening, just determinedly beating in Manny's face. Manny had hands up, trying to get him to stop, but wasn't fighting back. Best friend. Maggie sighed at her own stupidity. Shouldn't have thrown that punch. This was bad―

She put herself up on her tippy-toes and got in Boone's ear. "Boone, if you don't fucking stop―you're gonna get us shot," she hissed. Her hands wound themselves around his arm, digging fingernails into the skin, trying to stop him from hitting the man again.

Man, when the hell did she become the voice of reason? Maggie laughed stupidly as her fingernails dragged across Boone's skin, leaving welts down his forearm. Musta worked. He dropped Manny like a hot rock and wrapped his hand around her shoulder, dragging her off to his motel room.

"Goddamn, man!" she said, as he slammed the door behind them, releasing her with a little shove into the room. "What the hell―I had it under control―" She stumbled a little and caught the edge of the table with a hand.

Maggie jerked straight up when she heard the lock click and she flinched when Boone quickly turned and grabbed her around the side of her head. All of a sudden he was a lot closer and his mouth was on hers, and her eyes flew wide open.

Oh, so that was why Carla picked him.

Maggie's hands went to his shoulders, digging into the leather armor, and she jerked her knee up into the protective covering at his groin, feeling her leg shudder with the strong contact. He jerked backward, breaking off the kiss, wobbling a little.

"I'm sorry but it was that or bite you again―" she started, her chin trembling. Goddamn, he really was out of it. She moved around the far side of the table and slowly sat in the chair, keeping her eyes on him.

There was no reaction, at first. Boone turned on one heel, walked across the room to the bathroom, and slammed the door shut. Maggie's face sunk into her hands. A rhythmic thumping noise came from the bathroom, going on for a while, and was punctuated with the sound of breaking glass.

She was shaking, now. The asshole had confused her with Carla, and―shit. It was getting worse. And the idea of her pretending to be Carla―Maggie wasn't that dumb. Was a bad idea.

She tried to push the thoughts off, calm herself down. On the table in front of the chair was a Pre-War artifact, a telephone. Maggie looked at it without blinking.

When she and Carla were kids, they'd had a secret journal. Had to hide it because Sal wouldn't have liked them keeping secrets like they were. All the boys Carla kissed, all the fights Maggie started. All the booze they drank, it went into the journal. Maggie had burned it after Carla left the Strip, to safeguard herself. Because she couldn't leave it for Sal or anyone else to find.

They'd hidden it where no one would think to look, shoved down into a vase in the suite they'd shared. Maggie looked at the telephone. Why would it be sitting here, like someone had been working on it? On an impulse she picked it up and looked at the base. Scrape marks. Someone had taken the bottom off.

Maggie's hands shook as she pried the bottom off with her screwdriver, and pulled it apart. A star bottle cap fell out, a small rock with threads of shiny pyrite, and a piece of paper with writing on.

The thumping and glass sounds had stopped. Maggie unfolded the paper carefully, glancing up at the door of the bathroom. She hoped he hadn't hurt himself. Wasn't his fault he was all jacked up. It was Nero's. Fucking bastard. She sucked up snot into her nose and wiped her eyes before reading the paper.

"...like it here. Tried for him but I can't. I don't want the baby born somewhere like this. Jeannie May, the bitch, keeps stink eyeing me when she collects the rent."

Maggie's fingers twitched over the paper. "Mr. New Vegas had Benny on the radio today. Feel like shit. Mag had to marry him. Can't stop crying."

She put the paper flat onto the table and breathed out slowly, collecting herself before she kept reading. Carla had been thinking about her. Maggie had forgotten that she was pregnant, but she did remember the bill of sale.

She should have gutted that bitch and let Boone shoot her, after.

"Don't want to stay here. Need to go home. No one wants me here but Craig and he's―he doesn't see it, doesn't get it. Don't want to run off on him. The baby will need him." Maggie sighed and sucked up snot again. "But Mag needs me, too. She" The end of the sentence wasn't finished.

Boone opened the door to the bathroom slowly, and Maggie looked up, tiredly. He avoided eye contact. "Ma―" he started.

"Don't worry about it," Maggie said, quickly. "I'm over it, already."

He moved to the couch and sat with his hands over his face, leaning his elbows onto his knees. Maggie crossed her legs under the table and ran the star bottle cap through her fingers, staring at it.

"Carla wanted to go home," she said, slowly. "Back to Vegas. You didn't want to leave?"

He shuddered out a pained laugh, muffled by his hands. "Manny," he said, weakly.

"Why did you stop talking to him?" she asked, placing the bottle cap down with a click.

Boone didn't answer at first. There were a few tense minutes in the room. Finally he lowered his hands and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. She watched his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, then focused on the ruined tabletop.

"When Carla went missing he was the first person I told. He tried to hide it, but I could tell right away. He was glad."

Maggie nodded to herself. "Yeah, I thought so." She sighed. "You gonna―you still coming with me, to Vegas?"

There was no reply. Maggie uncrossed her legs and pursed her lips. "I gotta think up a new plan. Might take a little while."

"Alright," he said, staring at the ceiling. She stared at him for a moment. Watched his throat, saw his hands shaking.

Man, Carla... Maggie frowned. Hope you knew how to deal with him better than me.