When the message came, Six was huddled on the sofa in the master bedroom, trying to make herself cry. She'd been working on this project whenever she found herself with the necessary time and privacy.

It seemed like something she ought to be able to manage, considering how confused and overwrought she was feeling, but somehow the tears just wouldn't come. If it hadn't happened in the Fort, she didn't know why she'd thought it would happen in the presidential suite of the most luxurious and exclusive hotel in all of New Vegas.

The speaker on the wall crackled to life and she recognized Victor's hokey Western twang. "Howdy, pardner! I got a message for yer, whenever you're good an' ready."

She stood, dusting herself off even though her clothes were perfectly clean, walked out to the elevator and plucked the message from the steel claw of the Securitron unit.

It was an invitation to Gomorrah, the seamy casino with the shapely, fluorescent outline of a naked woman flashing from its marquee. Inside the invitation was a small square of black-and-white chequered fabric streaked with blood.

Welcome to New Vegas. Word on the Strip is that you're an up-and-comer. So happens that we Omertas are in a position to do you a favour. We got the fella you've been looking to ice. You want to put him out of business for good, you pay us a visit. We'll let you do the honours.

Nero

P.S. We want to keep this real low-key. Don't bring any of your paisans to complicate things or we'll turn you back at the door. Capesce? Good.

Six frowned. Too fucking easy.

The Omertas wouldn't be seeking her out unless they wanted something and their insistence on her coming to Gomorrah didn't add to her comfort. If she went to their house, she'd be playing by their rules. She wasn't fond of the idea of putting herself in the power of a ruthless tribe of pimps, chem dealers and contract killers.

She called a group meeting in the kitchen to get everyone's opinions on the matter. They all trooped in and seated themselves around the long boardroom table, listening as she explained the circumstances.

Cass kicked back a swig of moonshine. "So, what in the hell are you waiting for? Mosey on down there and shoot the son-of-a-bitch. You wait too long an' the weaselly little bastard's sure to escape. If he does, you're gonna have a full-scale war on your hands, Omertas vs. Chairmen. Shit'll get uglier than a Jacobstown whorehouse."

Arcade looked aghast, although, surprisingly, not at the prospect of civil strife on the Strip. "There are...brothels...in Jacobstown?"

"Sure. Wasn't there for custom, but a gal's gotta drink somewhere."

"Uh, well, I guess even Nightkin have...urges," Veronica said. "I mean, if only pretty people got to have sex, we wouldn't have the Atomic Wrangler."

Lily patted Six's arm. "Jimmy, cover your ears now, sweetie. The grown-ups are talking about nasty, filthy things. You wouldn't want to start getting bad ideas, like Leo."

The Nightkin still seemed to be under the impression that Six was a small boy named Jimmy, which had made for some markedly awkward conversations. Six had tried to correct her at first, but it hadn't done much good. Nowadays, she just accepted it without ever actually admitting that she was the kid in question. It was almost nice, having an imaginary grandmother to fuss over her, even if 'Grandma' spoke in a thunderous voice and could probably rip a deathclaw's head off as easily as popping the cap off a Sunset Sasparilla.

Six was surprised when Boone spoke up. He usually kept to himself at group meetings, even when it came to topics he knew inside-out, only voicing his thoughts to her later when they were on the road.

"Omertas are bad news. You got to go, take back-up."

Six nodded. "They said they'll only see me if I come alone, but I was thinking that maybe, if you guys are willing, we could do something a little different..."

Veronica's eyes glimmered with the possibilities. "Different? Does this mean what I think it does? Are we going to go undercover and wear diabolically clever disguises?"

Six smiled, nodding. "That would be part of it."

One Vault 21 shopping spree later, they were getting dressed to play their respective parts. They'd decided early on that Lily and Rex were too distinctive-looking to come along, but everyone else was in on the charade. Arcade and Veronica were getting dressed as a hoity-toity couple from the Ultra-Luxe, Cass was posing as an NCR tourist and Boone...well, he had just promised that he'd make an effort to look different. Six wasn't sure what this meant. She just hoped that he'd consider taking off his beret. The thing sat on his head like a big red bull's eye.

Veronica went swanning around the suite, wearing a half-mask and a one-shouldered formal dress from the Ultra-Luxe.

"This is the best thing ever. Just so you know, I'm never taking off this dress. Never. Do you think I'd be able to find a power-fist to match? Accessorizing is so difficult when you're a woman on the go."

Cass, by contrast, looked miserable in her Pre-War spring dress, a slash of red lipstick on her narrow lips. She hunkered down on the sofa, auburn hair hanging limply around her gaunt face, and took glum sips from her emergency flask.

"Six, you bloody owe me for this."

Suddenly, she let out a loud guffaw, laughing so hard that she practically toppled off the couch.

"Ho-lee, shit!"

Six glanced up to see what had got her so tickled and saw Boone standing in the doorway, wearing a gray suit, a crushed fedora and pair of silver-tipped spats.

The suit jacket was made for a smaller man and the material creased at the top, pulled too tight across Boone's broad shoulders. Without his sunglasses, his eyes looked weary and almost heartbreakingly vulnerable, squinting into the faint light of the common room as if he were gazing at an afternoon sun.

He looked as if he was going to a funeral – maybe his own.

Cass kept chuckling, wiping tears out of her eyes. "Damn, I got to give it up to you, Army. Way to take one for the team. You look like a fucking undertaker."

Boone scowled, pulling the brim of the fedora lower over his face. "Doesn't matter what I look like. Just want to get this over with."

He glanced at Six, pointing to the silk tie draped around his neck. "Don't know how to tie one of these things."

She was surprised Boone hadn't asked Arcade, who seemed to know his way around most things that required a touch of Old World sophistication.

Maybe he'd been too embarrassed. She had the sense that Boone found the researcher's cleverness more than a little intimidating - which was funny coming from a guy who routinely faced down packs of Fiends and Legion raiding parties.

"Sure. I don't have much experience with these things either, but I'm sure we can figure it out."

Six took him into one of the washrooms so that Cass wouldn't be gawking at them and making her usual smart-aleck remarks.

On a more selfish note, Six also wanted to avoid the curious little smiles that Veronica threw in her direction every time she wandered within six feet of Boone. The scribe seemed to know that something was going on and had even gone so far as to ask her about it.

"So...Boone. What's up with that?"

"With what?"

"You know..." Veronica had clasped her hands together and fluttered her eyelashes, doing a cloying imitation of Six's voice. "'Do you have enough water, Boone? Did you want me to disinfect that cut for you? I can bandage it, too! You're a big strong man but you can just carry the light stuff. I'll make Veronica carry the heavy pack.'"

"I don't make you carry the heavy pack. And if I keep an eye on Boone, it's because he watches out for everybody but himself."

"Oh, c'mon. You're totally sweet on him. Have you been doodling hearts and flowers all over the front of your Pip-Boy or what?"

"No. I'm not out for that. I feel sorry for him, you know? He's had it rough."

"My mistake then. I totally figured you were crushing. Is he your type?"

"If I have a type, I'm guessing it's the kind of man I should be avoiding. Romance is...complicated."

"Oh, I hear you. You should try doing it in power-armour. Although it's much nicer with girls. Smells better, too."

Of course, Six had been dealing the woman a Caravan pack of lies and she imagined Veronica had picked up on it right away, having had some prior experience with denial.

The truth was, she was fond of Boone. She'd found him worryingly attractive from the get-go, but she'd never figured that she'd get sentimental over somebody who so clearly had no use for anybody's feelings, especially not his own. Still, his presence had become vital to her somehow, him and his frown and his dumb beret. Sometimes, in her weaker moments, she'd wondered what it would be like to be loved the way he'd loved Carla. She knew it was stupid to envy a dead woman, but that didn't stop her from thinking about it.

Six set to work on Boone's tie, making a loose knot in the grey silk. She looped the skinny end around again and pulled it down through the top of the knot.

When she reached up to adjust his collar, her face brushed against his and she flushed, annoyed at her clumsiness.

Boone shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the bottom of his suit jacket.

"Thanks for doing this," she said. "I'm going to feel a lot better going in there, knowing you'll be watching my back."

"Not a problem. Kind of strange wearing a suit. Wasn't this dressed up on my wedding day."

She paused, eyeing him up. There were a lot of memories for him here on the Strip. He was so quiet about everything that sometimes she tended to forget that.

"Have you been thinking about it a lot? Since we got to Vegas?"

"A bit. Not a bad thing, not always. It was a good day. At least the parts of it I remember. Was pretty drunk by the time we got up to the chapel."

"Sounds like fun."

"Guess it was. Wasn't exactly traditional. Though, if Carla had seen me in a get-up like this, she probably would've thrown the ring at me and run the other way. Might've done her some good."

Six shook her head. "That's a load of bullshit and you know it."

Boone didn't answer and so Six occupied herself with straightening his tie, admiring her handiwork. Not half-bad. Glancing up at his face, she noted that he actually looked quite handsome now that his posture had returned to its usual military uprightness and he'd adjusted to the strictures of the new suit.

She pretended to brush some lint off the shoulders of his jacket just for an excuse to touch him. It was something she'd never have been able to get away with before, but lately Boone had been a lot more tolerant of such closeness. Sometimes, he even seemed to go out of his way to walk next to her on the trail or sit across from her at the kitchen table.

"Anyway, don't listen to Cass," she told him. "You...you look great."

The compliment just seemed to confuse the man. His eyes narrowed slightly and she could see that he was struggling to formulate an appropriate response.

"It's okay. Don't need you to lie."

He took a step forward as if he planned to circle around her and make for the door, but she stood in his way.

"I wasn't lying."

He sighed, leaning into her slightly, as if he'd become too exhausted to stand.

"Should get your eyes checked. Anyway, I...I'm not who you think I am. I got bad things coming to me, Six. You get too close, they'll get you too."

"Boone, in the past year, I've been shot in the head, buried alive and enslaved by the Legion. I'd say bad things have been knocking at my door a long time before you came into the picture."

His hands encircled her arms, but it felt less as if he were holding her at bay and more as if he were grasping onto her, trying to prevent his knees from buckling under him and his body from sinking to the tiles.

"You don't know what you're dealing with here. You just don't know when to stay away."

Six gave him a slow, sad smile. "You're right. Never do."

Boone reached up a hand and at first, she thought he would brush her away, but his hand moved past her, shoving the door closed behind them. He pressed her back against the wall, kissing her hard on the mouth.

The sudden heat of it overwhelmed her. She was so surprised that it took her a second before she remembered how her lips worked.

He drew back, clasping her face between his hands, his grey eyes scanning her features. His brow furrowed and he looked almost dazed. She could tell that he'd acted on impulse and he was having trouble rationalizing what he'd just done.

"Needed to get that out of my system. Sorry. Wasn't a good idea."

"Boone..."

Six made a grab for his shoulder, but he shrugged her off, shuffling out the door like a sleepwalker.

She stared at her face in the mirror and at long last, she found tears in her eyes.