A/n: As always, thank you all for the hits and reviews and such. I was worried that the last chapter would turn some folks off. Good to see that it hasn't :)


A wiggle of a toe here, a twist of an ankle there. Benny knew that if he moved in certain ways, the ropes binding him would be just a tad looser when he moved back to his original position.

He hadn't come this far just to be crucified for shooting a broad in the head. It was just his luck that Fox had turned out to be Legion, and that the Courier just so happened to be the one gal that he settled down for. Then again, it was just his luck that the guards had been changed. If that hulking redhead had stayed on duty, it'd be curtains for him. He couldn't even blink without that cat seeing it.

So far, his luck had been fifty-fifty. Benny figured that he'd better cash in before his odds ran out.

He'd have to swim a hell of a long way to get to shore, but drowning was preferable over crucifixion. Resolved, the former Chairman waited until the guards weren't looking and quietly rolled off down the hill and into the water. It took him a while to get the hang of swimming tied up, but he had no choice but to do a good job at it. Benny swam as fast as he possibly could while staying underwater as long as possible; he didn't want to test if the desert-raised Legionaries could swim or not.

He cursed the heaviness of his coat, knowing that it could very well be the death of him. Somehow, Benny's feet touched land and he flopped about in an attempt to stand. After gathering his bearings, he eyed the landscape in front of him.

Black Mountain; it'd be an excellent place to hide.


There was a haze about the unkempt parts of the city, the smell of human waste laying in a layer around Freeside on the unseasonably hot day. Smoke rose up from multiple rusted barrels as trash smouldered deep inside. Six wasn't sure if she ought to breathe out of her nose or mouth. The former would stink and the latter wouldn't, but breathing out of the mouth would mean that she was tasting the air.

As a woman sat on the street corner coughing, a naked toddler rooted through a nearby heap of rubble, throwing fragments of cracked bricks as far as his little arms could fling them. On the opposite corner, a man stood and exchanged chems for caps with a shaking, patchy-haired man.

There were two lines in the street, one for the Kings' water and the other for NCR food handouts. Six walked past the table; the food smelled half-decent, and she couldn't blame the people for becoming NCR citizens just to eat. The promise of a full stomach could turn almost anyone to go against what they believed in.

"NCR citizens only," the woman at the table announced, "become a citizen of the NCR and you'll get free food. We take care of our people."

A nearby King grumbled about money-grubbing thieves then turned to face the Courier.

"Hey," he smiled, "you're the one who's been helping with Rex. The King sends his regards."

He snagged a stick of iguana bits from the NCR table and offered them to Six, ignoring the angered cries of the woman managing the table. Shaking her head, the Courier refused the stolen food. The gangster simply shrugged and grabbed a piece of the meat with his teeth.

"See ya around then," he shrugged.

A King stood at the water pump, announcing free water for five seconds for everyone, twice a day. Six smiled to herself; some progress was always better than no progress. But it wasn't enough, and she knew that it'd take hard work to make everyone's lives better.

Six went through the door to west Freeside and walked toward the Strip. She supposed it should have been strange that the Lucky 38 felt like home now, but then again, she'd never had anything different. A pair of Securitrons greeted her and let her in. Flashing lights and blaring music greeted the Courier. It didn't feel right being on the Strip without Vulpes on her arm, nearly stumbling along because he couldn't stop kissing her.

She sighed as she climbed the steps to the Lucky 38. The signs that he was in love with her had been there, but she just figured that he treated all of his girls like that. Frowning, Six took the elevator up to the penthouse, giving Rex a reassuring scratch behind the ears while they waited.

The doors opened and the Courier stepped out of the elevator and down the stairs to speak with House.

"I take it that you've come to deliver the Platinum chip?" House asked.

"Yep," Six replied, "here it is."

She inserted the Chip into the console for him.

"Good," he said.

There was a pause as the chip loaded and Rex began to chase his tail in front of the screen.

"What the hell is that dog doing in here?" House hissed, "This area is off limits to everyone but you, and even then, that's when I need you."

Six opened her mouth to speak.

"You know what," House interrupted, "I don't want to hear it. Come back in a few days and we'll start the next part of the plan. Just don't get knocked up in the meantime."

She could feel her face heating up at House's angering words. A quick glance to the left piqued her curiosity. Could that be where House was? She supposed it didn't matter at the moment. Six had a lot to think about.

She needed to talk to Arcade about this, in particular, about Yes Man.


He wasn't quite sure how he ended up in this position, and supposed it would be comical if it were anyone but him.

Boone awoke to hearing the elevator doors open. His shirt was tangled up around his neck and over his face; it'd been a while since he'd passed out so sloppily. Usually, it was just sitting straight in a chair, one minute awake, the next, in oblivion.

"Boone," Six giggled, "your chest looks like a carpet."

He wanted to tell her that not all men looked like her precious, mostly hairless Fox, but the words died on his tongue as he remembered Carla saying the same thing about him.

"How about you get a shower and have some water?" the Courier smiled, helping him up.

Boone recoiled from her touch and tumbled into the wall.

"How about you mind your business?" he snapped.

She looked hurt, as if he'd hit her. Immediately, he wished he could take the words back. Six was too good for this world, too wonderful and caring for a disgusting piece of trash like him. His habit was fine, so long as it didn't hurt her too.

An apology stuck to the roof of his mouth as he watched her leave for the kitchen. He followed. It was as if she had him on a leash; Boone was drawn to her goodness.

It was dangerous.

Boone looked around the kitchen at Cass, Arcade, and Veronica. Was he supposed to feel something toward these people? He felt nothing. The scotch made him feel appropriately numb, an outsider, just like he was supposed to be.

"Girl," Cass whistled, "what in the hell are you wearing? Did Fox give that to you?"

The Courier shook her head and squeaked that she found the armor.

"It makes me look fat, doesn't it?" Six whined, turning in circles. "Fox didn't tell me that it looked so bad."

Boone frowned. That man let her prance around in something like that.

"Naw," Cass drawled, "you're all tits and ass and sass in that. Those pants look like they're about to penetrate you."

"So, how's Fox?" Veronica interjected, "What's his dad like?"

Six frowned and looked at the floor, her face turning red.

They had sex. He knew it.

"His dad's a tyrant," the Courier replied.

"How?" Arcade pressed, looking up from his book in concern.

"Just a lot of rules," Six mumbled. She was fidgeting; the subject made her uncomfortable.

"And Fox?" Veronica smiled.

"We're on a break," the Courier blurted.

Boone couldn't stop the 'what' that came out of his mouth.

"He was moving too fast," she replied, "way too fast. I'm not in love. I don't want a relationship."

Boone felt nauseous for Fox.

"You led him on," Boone slurred, "broke his heart."

Six glanced toward Veronica, who nodded sagely.

There was a sick fascination in watching the sweet Courier tear up, and the sober person deep in Boone's subconscious told him that he was a monster. Her eyes were turning red and he told himself that he ought to watch what he just did. It was validation that he was right about himself.

"I submit that he's barely known you," Arcade interjected, "for little more than a few weeks. At that point, normal people are still going on dates and getting to know each other."

"People move fast in the wasteland," Cass shrugged.

"At any rate," the doctor frowned, "you have time to think about it. Heartache is part of life."

"The question is," Cass continued, "did you fuck him before all of this happened?"

Six squeaked out a 'no' as Arcade began to berate Cass for being crude, rude, and socially unacceptable.

"So, that fine piece of ass is currently blue-balling," Cass mused, "I wonder how he feels about older women."

"He's mine," Six frowned.

There was a long pause as Cass smirked and took a sip from her moonshine, her stare daring the Courier to take back what she just said. Instead, Six ran off to her room in embarrassment.

Now that she was gone, Boone figured that he'd shuffle off to bed. He didn't want to hear the others bickering.


Arcade had a feeling that Six would want to talk about what happened with Fox. He gave her a few minutes to blow off some steam before tentatively knocking on the door to her room.

"It's me," he said, "Can I come in?"

The door opened a crack and he took that as an invitation.

"Arcade," Six murmured, "We need to go somewhere so we can talk."

"Um, okay," he replied, "Where?"

"The Tops," she said, "Can you we go now?"

His eyes widened; she'd gotten very serious all of a sudden. Did this have something to do with Fox?

"Uh, sure," Arcade nodded.

Six motioned Rex to follow them as they took the elevator downstairs. They wasted no time in going directly to the Tops, Arcade growing concerned by the minute. He opened the door for the Courier and followed her in.

The greeter called her babydoll and searched them both before letting them through. Six glanced behind him, perking up when she saw a dark-haired man in a cream-colored suit.

"Hey sweetheart," the man smiled, "it's good to see that what happened the other day didn't put you off of the Tops."

"Swank," Six nodded, "I'm here on an official investigation and need access to Benny's room."

Wait, she was taking him along on an investigation assignment from House? Arcade was sure that he wasn't the right kind of guy for this. He preferred to live on the quiet, neutral side of life with his books and his papers.

"Go on up, babydoll," Swank replied, "nothing's been touched. I hope we can see past these issues and work together. Let me know if there's anything else needed for your investigation."

She thanked the chairman, grabbed Arcade by his coat sleeve, and led him to the elevator. The door closed behind them.

"What's this all about?" he asked.

The Courier smiled knowingly and left the elevator, walking quickly down the hallway to a set of big double doors. She waited until the doors to Benny's suite were closed behind them before she turned around with a conspiratory grin.

"I lied," Six giggled.

He was about to chide her for doing something so foolish, but words failed him when she opened Benny's closet. There was a securitron in there.

"Hey! Hi there, good to meet you!" it greeted, "What can I do for you today?"

"What is this place?" Arcade asked, stepping across the threshold after Six.

"This is Benny's workshop," it replied, "when the Tops got renovated, Benny reserved this whole half of the floor for himself. I guess you can say it's my whole world. I've never been out of here that I can remember."

"What do you do here?" Six asked.

"Good question!" it chirped, "I monitor House's networks and decrypt his transmissions. I'm a PDQ-88B securitron, but you can call me Yes Man."

This thing could do a lot of damage if it ended up in the wrong hands.

"What kind of name is that?" Six asked. Her head titled to the side.

"It's what Benny always called me," Yes Man answered, "probably because I'm programmed to be so helpful."

Arcade doubted that Benny was capable of programming a securitron by himself. Whoever did the programming had to have been very smart. Perhaps one the Followers got involved, which was very disconcerting.

"I had the Platinum chip, but I gave it to House," the Courier said, "the army is on standby, but I'm not quite sure what to do yet. It'd be suspicious if I came straight here and didn't stop to drop off the chip."

"Well gosh, Benny had it last time I saw him," it said, "An army like that should be enough to defend Vegas against an army of, I should say anybody. And I totally see what you mean. That would be very suspicious."

"Benny's dead now," Six said, "They caught him at the Fort."

Arcade shot her a questioning look; she avoided his gaze. There was a hell of a lot more going on than she told anybody. How in the hell did she know that?

"Well, if I was programmed to feel sadness, I would feel sad," Yes Man replied, "that is a shame."

"He told me you can take over House's networks with the chip," Six continued, "I've upgraded the Securitrons. Now what? How can we take over Vegas?"

"Then I have to help you if you want it," it replied, "goal number one is to eliminate House and install my neuro-computational matrix onto the Lucky 38's mainframe. The next step is to get to know the region's tribes and see how you feel about them. By then, the Legion should be attacking Hoover Dam and we'll be able to initiate the last phase of the plan."

"Well, I already don't like the Omertas," Six murmured.

Arcade chuckled; though she had no interest in Fox, she certainly held a grudge against the Omertas for drugging him.

"Then they can be eliminated," Yes Man chimed, "Isn't that fun?"

The Doctor wasn't sure about Six's accepting nod to what the securitron just said. The socioeconomic ramifications from killing the Omertas could be potentially devastating for the Strip.

"So, say we want to just accidentally disconnect House," Six asked, "How should that happen?"

Arcade did a double take. He thought she was working for House.

"It makes me feel really dumb to admit this, but I have no idea," Yes Man replied, "I've never been inside the Lucky 38, and neither has anyone else. But he's there, alright. It's the central node of his network."

"I've been there," Six chirped. Arcade added a quick 'me too'.

"You have! Wow, that's amazing," it gasped, "You can murder Mr. House anytime you want. The next thing you'll want is the Platinum Chip. You know, that one Benny killed a courier for outside of Goodsprings."

"What do you know about the Courier that Benny shot?" Six smiled.

Arcade knew that she had her hopes up. For her sake, he hoped that this Yes Man had answers. But at the same time, he didn't want her to think too positively, in case there was no new information.

"I knew she was carrying the platinum chip," the securitron replied, "I knew where she would be and everything. Pretty neat, huh?"

"I'm the courier that Benny shot," Six said. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, her smirk growing by the second.

"Haha, I know that's not true because you still have a head!" Yes man chuckled.

"I'm serious!" Six protested, stomping her foot.

Arcade laughed outright, earning a glare from the Courier. She couldn't act smooth when she tried; her childish side would always come through.

"Haha, that's not funny, how you got shot in the head," the securitron said, "I feel really bad about how I set you up now."

"It's okay," Six smiled, "You didn't shoot me. Do you know my name?"

"Nope," Yes Man replied, "couldn't decipher your signature on the forms. Now that's some talented encryption skills you have there."

Arcade sighed as the Courier's chin began to quiver. He shuffled over to her and put his arm around her shoulders, leaning over to speak in her ear.

"Listen," he murmured, "a name isn't everything. You're you, and you're my friend. That's something a name can't change."

It sounded cheesy even to his own ears. Arcade never had good bedside manners, a problem that stemmed from an incurable case of social awkwardness. But he'd spoken the truth, and that was something he'd never take back.

Tiny hands fisted themselves into his lab coat as Six drew him in for a suffocating hug. There was deceptive strength in her arms, mirrored by her deceptively strong will. This meeting proved that she wanted what was best for New Vegas.

He was curious about what her conclusion would be.

"Are you crying?" Yes Man interjected, "Did I say something to hurt you? I am so sorry that I did. If I didn't, well then, I'm still sorry that you're crying."

Six shook her head and looked at the securitron.

"I don't remember anything from before I got shot," she said, "not even my name. But listen, if something happens to Mr. House, we will be in touch."

"I'll be waiting right here," it replied.

Arcade followed as Six left, hoping that she'd be inclined to use Benny's mysterious technology for the betterment of New Vegas.


It was a path he hadn't taken in a while, but Vulpes walked toward his safehouse as if he'd been there just days ago. He braced himself as he slid down the steep hill that led to the old bunker disguised as a sewer grate.

The plan was simple. He would gain access to the NCR's database at Camp Forlorn Hope then run an exhaustive, systematic search for persons matching Six's description in both citizenship records and border towns that did business with NCR. If at any point he was compromised, he could simply sneak off to Nelson and let the blame fall on the Brotherhood of Steel.

This was, after all, one of their abandoned bunkers. They'd left it in a hurry, not even bothering to take their terminals with them. Rather, they wiped all the data, leaving the terminals perfectly set up to spy on some of the NCR's poorly protected information. Vulpes wished that some of his men were less superstitious about technology; they needed more agents capable of terminal hacking.

He wiggled his fingers into the manhole cover's holes, lifted the lid, and began his descent down the ladder into the bunker, making sure to close it behind him.

That was when the smell hit him. Someone died down there.

Vulpes frowned, drew his .44, and began to sneak his way down the ladder. Maybe someone had gotten caught in between Nelson and Camp Forlorn Hope. Maybe, they'd stepped on one of those damned NCR mines.

He reached the bottom of the ladder and looked around. Graffiti referencing the Sierra Madre Casino lined the walls and a headless, stinking corpse holding a canister of paint lay in the far corner of the room. It was just another fool who'd gotten dreams of wealth unimaginable in his head, only to shoot himself in the process.

Vulpes looked down the stairs to the main part of the bunker and sighed when he saw the words 'Sierra Madre' with an arrow pointing toward the bunker's heavy door. How was he supposed to bring Six down here someday for loud, animalistic sex if it'd been trashed by some degenerate?

With a press of a button, the bunker door opened. At the end of the hallway, a radio sat on top of a table, bathed in artificial light. It blasted on full volume some nonsense about the Sierra Madre Casino, and it was already beginning to annoy him. He needed quiet for his work.

Vulpes drew his .45 and aimed it at the radio. In the next second, his pistol was at his side as he grumbled to himself that he was turning into Lanius by destroying things because they annoyed him. He could use that radio in a multitude of ways.

He walked down the hallway toward the radio, shaking his head over the dead man upstairs. As soon as he crossed the threshold into the next room, the door slammed shut behind him. A sweet-smelling, orange gas leaked out of the air vents and his vision began to swim.

Vulpes knew he should kill himself before he was knocked out. He was taught about death before surrender and passed such teachings on to those he trained.

Instead, Vulpes clenched his fist around the lock of hair in his glove, hoping that he'd make it out to be able to see Six again.