Note: Okay, crunch time, guys. I can go ahead and work toward the end here, writing about Maggie figuring out Vegas, or I could draw it out with some fluff chapters. (TBH, I'm not happy with how this chap is going, but had to close up an element I introduced on a whim)

What say you? More chapters before the end, or not. Leave me a note.

Sorry about the delay. Stomach bugs hit everyone and both my kids are on antibiotics.


"Why am I here, again?" Boone glanced up at Maggie, as they walked through the Strip gate. The wind picked up around them, making her shiver. The thin Pre-War dress she was wearing offered no protection from the chill. She held down the skirt so it wouldn't flip around, grumbling; she'd picked it out of her old clothes for the occasion, but she'd forgotten why she never liked wearing it.

Stupid thing. Maybe she was getting used to the leather armor. Kept her legs warm, at least. Right now she was feeling very vulnerable, and vulnerable was a feeling that Maggie fucking hated.

"I told you, we just have to figure this out for the King―" Maggie flicked a stray hair out of her eyes. She glanced up at the Strip behind them, then fixed her eyes on the Kings building. "After that, I'll know a little bit more about what to do with Vegas. Right now I dunno how to even start with Benny's plan."

"Yeah... But you're dealing with NCR in Freeside, right," Boone pointed out, as their feet crunched across the road. "Thought you didn't want me around for that."

Maggie stopped, and turned to look at him. "Keep complaining, jerk. See where it gets you."

Boone chuckled and nodded, smiling at her. Maggie turned back to the street ahead of her, adjusting the green piece of shit dress again. "I need you to wait," she said. "Like, right here by the Strip gates. I'm gonna run down and make someone's day really fucking awful."

"What's the plan?" Boone asked, crossing his arms and staring at her.

Maggie looked at him over her shoulder and grinned. "You stay here, I get led by some idiot guard up the street and figure out how come he's so popular that he's pulling in all the hot bodyguard money in Freeside. Need you to wait near the end, just in case something goes down. I think it will."

"You have your machete?" Boone asked her.

"Of cour―goddammit, Boone, that's like asking me if I don't want a drink!" She scowled at his amused expression. " 'Course I got my weapon, I ain't stupid!"

He smiled. "Alright, Maggie. Go churn the water."

"Since when do I need you to tell me when to do something!" Maggie put her hands on her hips and growled. "Look, man, we're not exactly at one hundred percent―"

"You're drawing attention, Maggie," Boone said, his eyes moving to the left but his head remaining still. "Get out of here."

She turned and stomped away, grumbling and muttering to herself. Jerk! Just―ugh! After that mess with her foot―she was still limping a little bit, really, it hurt to stomp along like that―and she'd let Boone hug her again, which was more than the butthead deserved, ugh! After all that, he was acting like she―like she didn't know how to protect herself?

Maggie slowed her pace and limped through the gates to the other side of Freeside. Carla was in the past, he'd said. Time to let go. Like she could let go of that―she was still her sister, and still dead―Maggie had to get some revenge on the Legion for Carla, still. Revenge that she hadn't been able to get when she'd gone up to the Fort.

Stupid fucking Legion. She was gonna tear them a new one, when she got the chance. Just... didn't really want to go looking for them, not right now. Not when she was about to be in the center of a big ass political brouhaha that―fuck her, man. No one was gonna listen if Maggie was in charge. No one would take Maggie seriously unless she started anteing up and making herself known. And even then, Sal was still gonna get on her case and Swank was gonna tease her, and Marjorie―she shook her head. Marjorie wouldn't care, probably.

She rolled her eyes, fluffed her hair, pinched her cheeks, and let a few buttons get miraculously undone before approaching the bodyguard in the metal armor. She'd already forgotten his name. Didn't matter, she was doing this for the King, she had to see it through. She owed him for his company. And his advice.

"Hey, you," she said, smiling as nicely as she could manage.

"If you're looking for a client, I suggest applying at the Gomorrah," the bodyguard said. "I can't help you. I'm on the job."

Maggie's teeth nearly cracked with the force of her grinding them in her mouth. Fuck this bastard right in the―assuming she was?!

"I'm not a whore!" she hissed, through her teeth. "I was looking for an escort through Freeside! I can see I picked the wrong person!" She huffed and turned away.

"My apologies―" the guard moved forward and intercepted her. "I don't know what I was thinking. I would love to be your guard through Freeside."

Maggie glared at him. "I heard you were the best person to get," she said, coldly. "Obviously you aren't known for your people skills." She crossed her arms under her chest and deliberately squeezed her breasts up into the open. The effect was pathetic, her trying to be sexy with nothing to show off. Didn't exactly lend her a good mood―

Well, it was part of the ruse. She set her eyes on one of the other guards, moodily. "Maybe I should see what the competing rates are," she added.

"I can assure you that my services are necessary and worth the cost," the guard in the metal armor said. "Please, allow me to be your escort. You can pay me when we reach the other side, as an apology."

Maggie allowed herself to look conflicted, then nodded stiffly and frowned at him. "Fine."

The guard―Orris―led the way, telling her about the businesses and other places to visit as they moved fast through Freeside. She limped as she tried to keep up, wincing her way through the first set of gates. Orris moved up past the Kings building, then paused and turned to her.

"I don't like the look of this group up ahead," he said. "Let's see if we can find another way."

Maggie nodded, feeling the sting of her heel, and glanced over at the men he spoke of. Boone was leaning against the corner ahead, in between an alley and the Strip gates, and about five men were milling around between the gate and her. She tried to catch Boone's eye before she was hustled down a parallel alley, Orris still moving fast. Didn't know if he noticed her, though.

Something was wrong here. That group of men hadn't been there before, and Orris was directing her into the alley very pointedly. If she hadn't walked through Freeside so many times before, she might not know better―but this didn't feel right. Felt like... a setup.

"Wait here a sec," Orris said, turning his head back to her. He stopped beside a burnt-out car. "Those guys are waiting for us. I can see them up ahead―"

Maggie huffed and shook her head. "I ain't buying this bullshit," she muttered, crossing her arms. "What're you trying to pull, you asshole?"

Orris turned around and considered her for a moment. "I'm not sure what you mean, Magdalene," he said, deliberately moving across the road to her and grabbing her wrists up. Her eyes opened wide in alarm―how did he know her full name―and what the fuck was he doing!?

She pushed back against him, struggling as he moved her up against a nearby wall. pinning her down. "Fuck!" she said, angrily. "What the fuck!"

"Afraid I have to shut down your little ploy," he said, laughing meanly. "See, I heard about you from a mutual acquaintance, and, well..." Maggie's legs kicked out at him, her knee coming up against his crotch―but she only hurt herself on the medal codpiece, slicing her knee open and making her swear louder.

"I was told to give you a message," Orris continued, ignoring her attempts to get free. "Mr. House paid me very handsomely to tell you that he's not gonna wait much longer for you to make up your mind. 'Your continued difficulty in following commands is becoming tiresome,' he says, 'and should you not prove your loyalty to me, you will find more than simple intimidation waiting for you.' " Orris pushed her into the wall harder, the rough edges of his armor digging into her. Maggie gritted her teeth and made like she was going limp, staring at him angrily.

"Personally, I think he's full of shit, but he paid me too much to argue," Orris said, grinning.

She couldn't fight him off without a free hand or―fucking hell, where the fuck was Boone?! Maggie's legs were free but his armor prevented her from hitting him effectively, and he had her wrists pinned against the bricks, scraping up the back of her hands.

"You think I'm scared of you?" she snarled, glaring at him. "Please! I eat bastards like you for breakfast!" She struggled again, moving a foot up to his knee and trying to put her heel into his calf. It was hard to move with him pressing her into the wall―

Orris chuckled, dropped one hand to her leg and hiked it up over his hip. Maggie drew her hand back immediately and tried to punch him, catching the top of his head. Orris laughed again, pushing her into the wall even harder, keeping her leg up at his waist and grabbing her free hand again.

Shit. Shit! Maggie realized what he was doing as soon as he started breathing heavily on her, turning her head away from the stinking breath. Fucking House―setting up some bastard to try to scare her into playing along―Orris ground into her, painfully jamming his codpiece into her hips.

Wasn't like she'd never been in that situation before. Didn't take that many drinks for a normal man to start acting like a rapist, up on the Strip. Usually Maggie'd had Carla to watch out for her, to keep that sort from being stupid with her silver tongue, but when she was gone, Maggie had weaseled her way out of a few trysts through brute force. A knee to the nuts stopped all but the most determined, and staggered the real tough guys long enough for her to pull a weapon on them.

Those assholes had been wearing plain clothes, though. Not metal armor designed to repel bullets. There was no way in hell she was getting out of this unless she did something she had never had to do, in her entire fucking life.

Maggie opened her mouth and screamed for help.

Fuck, that was pathetic, having to play the damsel in distress. Orris was laughing and grinding on her, a twisted look on his face, and she closed her eyes against the sight.

Thank God the bastard wasn't wearing a fucking helmet―

Rifle shot. Orris' hands clenched painfully on her wrists. He fell away from her, slowly. Maggie slid down the wall and curled her legs up to her chest, covering them with her arms.

The real fucking shame of it was that the next person who touched her would get a punch in the face.

That person was, of course, Boone.


"I ain't sorry," she said, staring at Boone over the table in the Kings building.

"I wasn't asking you to be," he said, staring at the Kings member on the stage. A bruise was spreading across his cheekbone, starting a funny shade of purple and turning black in the center. Her hand still hurt from the impact. Boone didn't give her a clue as to what he was thinking, just stared expressionlessly at the stage. Guess he's alright, then, she thought. Acting normal, anyway.

Maggie looked up at the King, as he walked through the room to his table. She stood and went to join him, pulling over a chair. "So I dealt with your bodyguard problem," she said, grumpily.

"I heard," King said. He sounded angry. She couldn't recall ever hearing him like that. It was a bit intimidating. Maggie looked down at the back of her hands and rubbed the scrapes she'd gotten, frowning.

"This man, the dead one," King said, drawing out his funny accent. "He was paid by Mr. House to make you behave?"

"That's what he said." Maggie sighed and lowered her hands to her lap, looking down at her knee where it was busted open. "House ain't trusted me since Nero died. I guess getting the Omerta boss killed and putting my dad in charge was a bad idea."

King sighed. "I know you didn't mean for it to go that way," he said, "but it does look bad. Can't imagine what I would think, had it happened to me."

"Should I play along with House?" she wondered, to herself. That jackass Orris used fancy words like House would have. There was no doubt in her mind that House really had paid him to mess with her, knowing she'd probably kill the man. He didn't care about one person in the sea of many that made up his plan―his plan to make Vegas better.

Why he didn't just find someone else to drag along this master plan, she'd never figure out. House had the caps to bring that chip all the way from the west. And she knew Benny had set it up for her to actually get the chip, even though she'd been told it was random, who got what. So she was the one what brought it to him, so he could kill her.

Otherwise, Benny's whole plan to get the chip and put Yes Man in the computer at the Lucky 38 was all for shit. She knew Benny wasn't gonna let that happen. He put a lot of work into that Securitron, too much to let it go to waste. Too much work to get her where he wanted, too.

"I can't say," King said, turning in his seat to look at her. "You go with him, he might think you're just playin', anyway. Hard to gain back trust already lost."

Maggie grumbled. "Don't I know it." She rubbed her face with both hands, and shot a glance at Boone.

"That the one you were talkin' about?" King asked, without looking.

Maggie snorted. "...Yeah."

"Well," King said. His mouth twitched. "Can't believe you turned down the King for a fella with such an ugly mug."

She growled under her breath. "Fuck you, King," she muttered. "Ain't like I expected it."

He pursed his mouth and then smiled that funny half-smile of his at her. "That's love for ya," he said. He put out a hand and patted hers, on top of the table. "Now listen, Mag. I'll have the boys watchin' out for you down here in Freeside, but I can't do much more than that."

"Thanks," she said, dejectedly. "...I guess I ought to go do that thing with the Brotherhood of Steel. 'Least then he won't be sending no one out after me."

"Keep your man at your side, you hear?" King looked over at Boone and nodded to him. Boone ignored them both. "Be safe, now."

"I will." Maggie stood up and limped away from the table. "C'mon, Boone," she practically whispered, and walked out of the building.

"We're gonna make a trip south," she told him, after they were outside. She started working her way out of Freeside.

"Not gonna change into your armor?" Boone kept her pace, walking behind her a little too close.

"It doesn't fucking matter," Maggie replied, setting her face grimly. "It really doesn't."