June 19th, 2280

20:55

Ultra-Luxe

Trailing several steps behind Knox, Veronica was futilely tugging the hem of the towel she had wrapped around herself a little lower. For someone used to full body robes and a hood, walking around in nothing but a towel was a little uncomfortable.

"Will you stop fidgeting and hurry up?" Knox called back over his shoulder, utterly unconcerned with walking around borderline naked. He'd without hesitation pulled his armor, shirt, and pants off before tying a towel around his waist all before Veronica's horrified eyes.

Veronica kept trying to pull the towel a little further down her legs without having it slip further down her chest, but made an effort to speed up and match Knox's longer stride. "You couldn't have tried to find towels just a little bit bigger?" she asked him.

He let out a quick laugh as he peered around a corner. "What's the problem? If everything goes well, we won't run into anyone and nobody gets a tease at your unmentionables."

"Really? 'If everything goes well?' That's your argument? And you didn't even turn around earlier!" she protested, slapping his shoulder.

"And," Knox continued, ignoring Veronica's rather valid objections, "You've seen me naked plenty of times!"

With a heavy sigh, Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose. "A fact I am painfully aware of. Just because I have no interest in seeing you naked because I'm a lesbian, doesn't mean I'm okay with seeing you naked."

Knox laughed again. "Oh, poor, sweet Veronica. You think that your sexual orientation has anything to do with my state of dress. I just have no modesty… or shame at all really."

"Something else I'm painfully aware of," she grumbled in response. She lapsed back into silence and continued following along after Knox as they made their way to the steam room. They'd been forced to stow their gear and weapons in the cabinet that Knox had found the towels in, including her power fist much to her displeasure. They'd even left her tablet! Knox had simply glanced at the map for a few moments and said he'd remember the route. And Veronica had to admit he seemed to know where he was going. He hadn't hesitated at any turn yet, he just kept walking.

Veronica let her eyes trace over his bare back as she followed. Like Ava, Knox had his fair share of scars and war wounds, but unlike Ava, Knox's tended to stay around. She poked him in his side next to a trio of old bullet holes. "You know if anyone sees us down here, they're going to wonder why you're so perforated." Knox ignored her and elbowed her hand away. Her eyes flicked to his spine and the long scar running from the nape of his neck all the way down to disappear below his towel. "Where do you even get all of these? You don't get shot that much. Not to mention this one looks practically surgical. How'd you get it?" she probed.

"I wanted my spine put back in," he replied flippantly.

Veronica rolled her eyes and let her hand drop back to her side. "You know, you have a way of answering questions without actually answering anything."

"Do I?"

Before she could point out he was still doing it, and that it was still infuriating, Knox jerked to a sudden halt, Veronica sharply stopping behind him and peering out behind his elbow to see what had caused him to stop.

A White Glove serving girl carrying a stack of plates was frozen in front of them. She wore a half-face mask that the lower members of the White Glove Society had and her uncovered mouth was hanging wide open as she ogled Knox's naked chest.

"Hi there," Knox greeted with a cheery wave. Veronica swore she saw his pectorals twitch.

"You're a pig," she hissed at him.

"Shut it," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth as the girl continued to gape.

Before either party could do anything another White Glove marched out into the hall. He had the full mask of a true member and a smart black tuxedo to match. "What are you doing standing around!? Move girl! The feast is in an hour!" he barked at the server, ushering her onwards. She scrabbled away at the command and disappeared down the hallway as the man turned and noticed Knox and Veronica. In the eyeholes of his mask, his eyes crinkled in surprise and then narrowed in suspicion. "Excuse me, but guests aren't allowed in this section of the hotel."

"Pardon me, please," Knox gushed, putting a hand across his chest. "We've just gotten completely lost searching for the steam room. You've practically saved us! We've been wandering around for nearly twenty minutes!" He said, gesturing wildly and smiling gratefully to the White Glove. "Thank you so much for finding us!"

The man stammered in surprise at Knox's disarming gratitude. "Well, you are quite welcome, sir. The steam room did you say?" He turned to point down the hall, but as his head twisted to the side, Veronica darted away from Knox's side and planted her fist into the side of the man's head with a sickening thud. He dropped to the floor unconscious as Veronica stood over him, shaking out her fingers.

"Veronica! Holy fuck! I had that," Knox cried in alarm as she dropped the man. "He was going to let us go!"

"Too slow," Veronica replied, jerking her thumb at a cracked clock hung upon the wall 9PM was steadily ticking closer. "We don't have time for you to make friends right now. And I am tired of being in a towel, so let's hurry it up!"

Knox shrugged and nodded begrudgingly. He stepped over the unconscious White Glove and started moving again. As he passed Veronica he said to her, "But I'm so good at making friends."

"Which is something I just don't understand because you're kind of an asshole," she replied as she jogged after him.

"I said friends, not good friends."

They ran down the hall for nearly a full minute before Knox split off to the right. He slowed, his bare feet slapping against the cool metal and stopping in front of a tiled entry way. "And we are in luck," he said, pointing to the ornate sign hanging from the ceiling that read 'Steam Room'. "And with time to spare," he commented with a grin.

Veronica shoved her way past him. "Yeah, like thirty seconds. Let's just get this over with, so I can go put my robes back on." She pulled open the heavy door and steam began to billow out. Knox chuckled and followed her in.

It was almost immediately too obvious who they were supposed to be meeting. The bath house was entirely devoid of life except one man who stood in the billowing clouds of steam. He was still dressed entirely in a suit and tie. Water droplets from the steam were steadily rolling down his forehead and across his black skin before disappearing into his collar. He looked miserable standing in the heat.

Knox let the door shut behind him and he stepped up next to Veronica. The man jumped at the sound of the door latching. His eyes nervously darted to them and he asked, "Who are you!?"

"You first," Knox replied, crossing his arms and watching the man expectantly.

"You don't know?" he asked, breathing a sigh of relief and pulling out a lacey handkerchief to mop at his forehead without much effect. "That's good, that's good," he said, more to himself than to them. "So they didn't send you after me." He paused and narrowed his eyes at them. "If you weren't sent after me…" he quickly fished a silver pocket watch out of his vest to check the time. "Then where is the man I'm supposed to be meeting here?"

Knox made an apologetic face. "The investigator? He's… dead. Our associates found a matchbox on his body pointing us here."

The man began to wipe at his forehead again in shock. "Oh my goodness me! They must know he was talking to someone on the inside. They'll be watching everyone closer now. I knew this was a mistake." He hesitated and took a step back from them. "But if you weren't sent after me… and you found my note… then why are you here?"

"We're just an interested party," Knox said, gesturing between himself and Veronica who was watching impassively at his side. "This is Veronica, and I'm Knox. House's Courier."

The man's dark skin grew noticeably paler. "T-the… Courier. Oh my… And you're here because?"

"We've had reports of disappearances and decided it was time the Lucky 38 came to investigate," Knox answered, stretching the truth a bit. "Now why don't you tell us what you were going to report to the investigator? You can start with your name."

"My name is Chauncey… and… and if anyone realizes I'm talking to you – that I'm the one the investigator was planning to meet – they'll have me killed!"

"What were you supposed to discuss here? Exactly," Knox asked, giving Chauncey no ground to dodge his questions anymore.

Chauncey bit his lip, clearly struggling to reveal whatever information he had. "The girl…" he started slowly. "The one who disappeared. I know what happened to her."

Knox and Veronica exchanged a look. "The bride?" she asked. Chauncey nodded morosely.

"Yeah, we may have found her," Knox said. "How do you know about what happened to her?"

Chauncey shivered despite the oppressive heat of the steam room. Guilt was splashed across his face. "Because I distracted her fiancé while they took her," he admitted. He caught Veronica's disgusted look and indignantly cried, "Well, I'm not proud of it! But I had to. They could see I was having second thoughts."

"About?" Knox prodded as Chauncey trailed off again.

The White Glove shook his head. "Some of the White Gloves began meeting privately a while back. Started talking about how we'd lost our identity," he explained. "I started attending because I thought it was about changing our politics. Then they started talking about returning to the old ways," his voice grew quiet. "There was no way out. They'd kill me for the things I heard them say." Chauncey shuddered. "That's why I tried to contact the investigator!"

"Well, now we're here," Knox said. "Tell me this, the head of these talks you were part of… Mortimer, yeah?"

Chauncey's head shot up at the mention of the maître d's name. "Mortimer… yes. The White Glove Society strictly forbids eating humans, but Mortimer… regressed to the old ways. He's been taking people over the last few months. But always from Freeside or secluded places, where they wouldn't be missed. It wasn't enough! Lately they've gone for tourists on the Strip. Even in the hotel." Mortimer snorted. "I guess that's the hazard of a cannibal becoming gourmet – it's hard to please a refined palate."

Knox shook his head at the tasteless joke as Veronica made a disgusted noise. "Refined palate, yeah. That explains the corpse we found in a meat locker with no arms or legs."

Chauncey made a pained expression at the mention of the bride's fate. "I'm here, aren't I?" he protested.

"You're a real hero," Veronica snarled at him, her voice dripping with potent sarcasm.

Knox made a subtle motion at her with his hand, cutting her off before she could lose her temper. "You want to help, Chauncey? Then tell me what the hell Mortimer is planning? Or are you seriously meaning to tell me that he's going to just keep eating people in secret. Because that doesn't sound like the White Glove Society."

"I told you, the White Glove Society doesn't-"

"Doesn't eat people, yeah, you told me. Yet here we are," Knox said, cutting him off. "Start talking. Why are you coming forward now?"

Chauncey tried to look offended, but the effect was broken somewhat as he stopped to wipe condensation from his face again. "Is my conscience not a good enough reason?"

Knox held up a hand and wavered it. "That's a shaky one at best."

The bluster blew out of Chauncey as he deflated. "Mortimer is trying to bring the rest of the White Glove Society around to his way of thinking." Chauncey gave up on drying his face and tucked the handkerchief away. "The White Glove Society has a banquet every evening. It's in our private section. Tonight's is in an hour. Mortimer wants to reintroduce humans into our cuisine. Since eating people is a crime we punish by death, he's going to do it in secret." Veronica's eyes widened as she realized what Chauncey was saying and she looked at Knox in alarm.

"Once everyone's eaten, he'll tell them. Taboo broken," Knox said, finishing Chauncey's thought.

He nodded. "With no real way to punish everyone, in Mortimer's mind, anyway, their minds will be open to the idea of eating people as a delicacy. Nothing is more important to the Society than to be on the cutting edge of New Vegas cuisine. Mortimer's idea will appeal to that need. Especially since he's found such a fine specimen for tonight. 'Corn fed, well-raised, and from good stock'."

Knox and Veronica looked at each other again. "Ted Gunderson," they said in unison. "Where are they keeping Ted?" Knox asked.

"I don't know exactly," Chauncey mumbled. "I wasn't in on it. I think some of them have stopped trusting me."

"Best guess," Veronica snapped at him. "We're kind of on a time table. We'd like to find Ted before he's turned into something delicious."

Chauncey stepped back from Veronica's aggression and held up his hands to try and pacify her. "If I had to guess, I'd bet they're keeping him near the Gourmand. Our chef, Phillipe, has an obsession with fresh ingredients."

"Hopefully fresh means alive," Knox said before he stiffened. "Did you hear that?" he asked, his ears perking trying to hear something above the hiss of the steam.

"What do you-" Chauncey started to ask before the soft cough of a silenced shot cut him off, followed by the blossoming of red that rapidly stained his white dress shirt.

Knox exploded into motion and dove to the side as more shots were fired directly where he was standing. Striding out of the mist with his gun raised was an assassin. He fired two more shots at Knox as he scrabbled backwards and the bullets shattered the tile floor. The assassin tried to get a bead on him, but he was thrown off by Veronica jabbing her fist into his side. The man lurched sideways and tried to bring the gun around on Veronica, but Knox whipped off his towel and wrapped it around the barrel of the pistol, yanking it down to the floor. Veronica seized the opportunity and drove her fist into the assassin's jaw, slamming it shut and throwing him to the ground.

Knox stood up and looked at the assassin. "You're getting real good with that whole punching into unconsciousness thing," he said, grinning at Veronica.

She averted her eyes and said, "Please put your towel back on."

"Yeah, yeah," Knox grumbled, grabbing his towel and the pistol from the assassin. "Check on Chauncey."

Veronica stepped over to the fallen White Glove and pressed her fingers to his neck. "Dead," she called.

"That's just peachy," Knox replied, retying his towel. "At least he was able to tell us what he knew. Because-"

"Because now we have to go save some rich kid," Veronica said.

"And cook a nice meal for the White Glove Society," Knox added. Veronica looked at him in confusion. "If no meal shows up, Mortimer doesn't reveal shit," he explained. "We need to provide a substitute so he outs himself."

Veronica ponders this for a moment, staring studiously at Chauncey's corpse before looking back to Knox. "Do you know how to cook?"

Knox frowned. "Mantis and radroach, sure. Fine dining, no. Aren't you the Brotherhood of Steel's provisions supplier?"

She shook her head. "I just provide the food, I don't cook it!"

Knox scratched his chin. "Huh."

"So neither of us can cook. That's kind of bad. I can make a mean gecko steak. Think that'll fly?" Veronica asked hopefully.

"We're fucked."

Phillipe bustled around his kitchen. On Mortimer's orders he'd banished all the prep cooks from the room as soon as they'd finished. It wasn't unusual for the eccentric chef to demand solitude to cook, so it wasn't cause for alarm. They'd arranged their plates with salads and sides, prepared sauces, and wine selections and then left. Now, it was Phillipe alone who would prepare the main course. The time was close for the secret dish to be revealed, but not yet.

He glanced up at the double doors leading out into the hall. In the two portholes he could see the back of two White Glove guards' heads. Mortimer had assured him that the two men would stay out of the way; they were just there to ensure the integrity of the meal. Fine by Phillipe, as long as they really did stay out of his way. This was his kitchen, his kingdom. He turned back to his work.

Behind him, unbeknownst to the master chef, one of the guard's heads exploded. The other twisted in surprise only to have a power fist strike in the back of his head, caving in his skull.

However, he did hear the doors open and whirled around, brandishing a knife. "I am not to be disturbed!" he shouted, waving the knife around only to pause in surprise at seeing a robed girl with her fists raised and an armored man in a cowboy hat pointing a rifle at him. "Who are you?"

Veronica clocked him in the face with her power fist.

She looked smugly on as the chef flew back and over his table. Next to her, Knox let his rifle fall to his side and palmed his face in exasperation. She heard his hand smack into his face and turned to look at him. "What?"

Knox dragged his palm down his face. "Well… I was hoping we could have gotten him to prepare a replacement meal for us, but…" he trailed off and looked at the unconscious chef.

Veronica put her hands on her hips. "What? Were you going to make friends with the cannibal?"

"Stranger things have happened," Knox mumbled as he looked at all the half-prepared meals. "And no. I wasn't going to make friends. I was thinking threats actually, but that's a moot point now."

"He had a knife."

"Just look for the Gunderson kid."

"Where?"

A loud knocking drew the two away from their bickering. A large freezer dominated the back of the kitchen. And an incessant banging was coming from behind its door. Knox raised his rifle and motioned with the barrel towards the freezer. Veronica crept up next to it and clamped down on the look with her power fist, crumpling the metal, and jerked it open.

A frost covered figure fell out and onto the floor at their feet.

Knox looked over his gun at the shivering figure. "Ted Gunderson, I presume?"

"T-t-that's m-m-me," he said through rapidly chattering teeth. "Y-y-you're n-not gonna e-eat m-me, right?"

Knox shook his head before bending down to pull the young man to his feet. "You're not my type," he said. He nodded his head at Veronica. "Hers either."

"W-well, t-that's great n-n-news!" Ted said looking relieved. He wrapped his arms around himself and rubbed vigorously, trying to bring some heat back into the limbs. "Let's g-get out of h-here," he said, making a move for the exit, but was caught by Knox's hand on his chest. He looked up at the man who'd rescued him from the freezer. He did not like the look in his eye.

"You ever cook much, Ted?" Knox asked.

"S-sure. W-why?"

Veronica grinned excitedly at him. "Because we've got to cook dinner for a bunch of fancy people and we're fresh out of chefs," she said, pointing at Phillipe on the floor. "Care to help?"

"W-what?" Ted cried in exasperation, looking between Knox and Veronica. "N-no!"

"That's a shame," Veronica continued. "Because we can't really have you walking around, might spoil the surprise. So you can help, or…" she pointed behind Ted, "It's back in the freezer."

Ted looked back into the frozen depths of his prison and swallowed before looking back at his 'rescuers'. "W-what are w-we m-m-making?"

Knox smiled widely and threw his arm around Ted's shoulder as he steered him towards the stove.

"Something corn fed, well-raised, and from good stock."

Mortimer straightened his tie as he walked up towards the stage. He smiled graciously as his fellow members of the White Glove Society smiled at him and nodded their praise at how well the banquet was turning out. He noted with some satisfaction that nearly every plate was completely cleared. Phillipe had really outdone himself.

He stepped up to the stage and the murmuring of the assembled crowd lessened as they looked on curiously. He cleared his throat and tapped the microphone at the podium to silence them. "I know I'm not the scheduled speaker, but I have a few words, if I may." No one in the audience said anything to stop him and he nodded his thanks before continuing. "There was a time not so long ago when we were bound together not as members, but as family. As a clan. And when Mr. House came to us with his proposal, we accepted, knowing we stood to gain much. Little did we know how much we'd lose in the process."

The White Glove Society looked on, slightly perplexed as Mortimer spoke. Behind the stage, two of Mortimer's loyal guards stood listening to his speech and waiting for the reveal. A reveal they would never hear as Knox stepped through the doorway they were guarding with both pistols raised. No one heard the silence shots as both men dropped to the ground dead. Behind Knox, Veronica was dragging along a now-thawed Ted Gunderson.

"As a society, we've endeavored to sample the finest food and drink this world has to offer. But we are living a lie."

Several floors above Mortimer's audience, Arcade stood with his back against a hotel room door, trying to keep Ava in the room and away from whatever conflict she believed to be brewing down in the hotel. His words were having little effect.

"There is a meat sweeter than most cornfed livestock. Most of you have tasted it. All of you have coveted it."

Knox slid into position on one side of the stage, hidden in the curtains to Mortimer's left. On the maître d's right, Veronica was getting into a similar position with Ted.

"Among us, it is a crime to discuss a return to the old ways that unified our people. Tonight that all changes. The taboo ends!"

Arcade was forced to duck as Ava hurled her bottle of water at his head and made another move for the door, stepping on his back to get out into the hallway. On the stage, Knox checked his pistol to make sure a round was in it. Veronica adjusted and calibrated her power fist to perfection. On the floor, Marjorie stood up, seeking to silence Mortimer, but he held a hand up at her.

"Let me finish, Marjorie." He cast his eyes around at his audience. "You don't know it yet, but you are all now guilty of a greater crime. One that ordinarily bears the harshest of punishments."

The White Glove Society looked between each other in confusion, even as a look of horrified understanding dawned on Marjorie's face.

"Surely that you are guilty warrants not only universal amnesty, but also a renewed discussion," Mortimer said, looking directly at her. "For our society to be truly elite, we must dine on the most delicious, the most exclusive food known to us." He threw his hands up in a grand gesture. "And tonight for the first time as a society, you are sampling that very dish, the meat we are forbidden to taste, the way it was meant to be eaten!"

In the wing of the stage, Knox nodded in satisfaction. That sure counted as outing oneself. He keyed his radio to give Veronica the signal. On the casino floor, Arcade was chasing after Ava as she raced for the Gourmand.

"Fellow members of the White Glove Society," Mortimer shouted dramatically. "Bon appetit! I hope you've enjoyed T-…" Mortimer's voice dropped off as he caught sight of Knox and Veronica stepping onto the stage. And behind Veronica… "Ted Gunderson!?" Mortimer cried in confusion. He looked out into the dining hall at all the empty plates. "Then who did we eat!?"

"That would be nobody. Turns out my associate over there can cook after all," Knox said loudly, gesturing at Veronica who was covered in flour and grease. "But do go on. Your speech is lovely. Or are you finished?" he asked as Mortimer's mouth opened and closed like a fish.

All across the hall, the faces of the White Glove Society went through a rapid transition. First, horrified at Mortimer's announcement, and then relieved that it was false. And then they all turned on the maître d', none more furious than their leader. Marjorie stood so quickly, she knocked over her chair, her hands were clenched in rage.

"I think your boss wants a word with you," Knox teased.

Mortimer slowly looked down at the enraged face of Marjorie and swallowed in fear, all showmanship bleeding out of him as he saw his plan crumble before his very eyes. "I- I'd just like to say-" he started, his voice shaking before his courage deserted him and tried to run for it. He knocked over the podium and leapt onto the central table that ran the length of the hall. He sprinted down it, his feet slipping as they slid along the table cloth and knocked plates and glasses to the side.

Knox casually looked at Veronica and said, "I really didn't expect him to run." Veronica shrugged and mimed pointing a gun at Mortimer with her fingers. "Ah, right." Knox raised his pistol and trained it on Mortimer's fleeing back, but as the disgraced White Glove made it to the end of the table something other than a bullet between his shoulder blades happened.

The doors into the Gourmand blew open as a body sailed through. The White Glove bouncer hit the ground and slid for several feet before coming to a stop in front of Mortimer. He stopped, his eyes on the body, before slowly looking up.

Ava stood in the doorway, covered in blood and panting heavily. Her hair fell in matted clumps across her face and sweat dotted her brow. Her manic eyes locked on Mortimer. "You," she hissed.

Mortimer tried to backtrack, but slipped on someone's wine glass and fell off the table. He scrambled to his feet and began running again. Ava dashed after him, the eyes of the White Glove Society, Knox, and Veronica focused on her pursuit.

"Don't let her get him!" Arcade cried as he slid into the room, his glasses askew. "She'll kill him!" he yelled frantically at Knox and Veronica.

The two on the stage looked from Arcade and over to Ava as she jumped and tackled Mortimer from behind. Her momentum carried them onto and then through a table.

"Kill him!?" Ava hollered. "I'm gonna fucking eat him alive!? See how well he likes it!"

Knox and Veronica jumped off the stage and sprinted over to her. Knox wrapped his arms around her chest and pulled her off of Mortimer who was curled into the fetal position. Veronica cupped Ava's chin in her hands and tried to get her to calm down. All the while she kept kicking and flailing her limbs.

Behind them, the White Glove Society watched on in shock in surprise until Marjorie clapped her hands to draw their attention back to her.

"Dinner… is over."

Knox shook hands with Marjorie as he finished explaining his presence and what was going on in the Ultra-Luxe. While she wasn't thrilled that Mr. House hadn't contacted her, she did understand his reasons. And at the very least she could be satisfied that her 'guests' from the Lucky 38 had at the very least averted a complete disaster for the White Glove Society and the Lucky 38 could be happy that Marjorie had no intention of contacting Caesar's Legion for amnesty.

"So what's that all about?" Knox asked as he walked up next to Arcade. He pointed over to Ava who was seated next to Veronica. The two very sitting alone at a table and Veronica had her arms around Ava and was talking rapidly, trying to distract Ava from… well, whatever was bothering her.

Arcade looked up from polishing his glasses and slipped them back onto his face. "Hm? Oh, that. You're aware of Ava's conditioning and how she'd like to break it?"

"Bits and pieces."

"Well, she asked for my help. After our encounter with the rogue White Gloves outside of the investigator's room I thought it prudent to remove her from the conflict. Try and ween her off the conflict as it were."

Knox looked at him skeptically. "Really? And how'd that work out?" Knox absentmindedly kicked a piece of debris across the floor. It was from the table Ava had destroyed.

"It actually worked fantastically," Arcade replied. "Being separated from a conflict without seeing it to its conclusion sent Ava into a downward spiral and she essentially began detoxing as her body stopped producing the endorphins it was accustomed to. Quite fascinating actually." Arcade smiled cheerily as he rattled off his diagnosis.

Thinking about it for a moment, Knox watched Ava. She was shaking slightly and her eyes kept flicking around suspiciously at shadows. "So… separating her from a fight caused this? Cause that's not exactly good. Hard to cure if the treatment sends her into a psychotic rage."

Arcade blinked his eyes in surprise. "What? No. She's perfectly safe to be around when separated from a fight. Safe, albeit unpleasant. The experience is miserable for her and because Ava is an infantile sociopath she takes out her misery on those around her."

Knox looked at him. "So, how does she go from being a bitch to trying to eat Mortimer?"

Arcade flushed in embarrassment. "Well… that may have been my fault." Knox crossed his arms and waited for Arcade to explain. "So, her conditioning is functionally an addiction. She's been treated to produce massive amounts of dopamine when she fights. Separation from that dopamine causes her to crash and detox. I figured maybe we could try an aggressive treatment similar to that some drug addicts can be helped with."

A small smile played over Knox's lips as he looked over at Ava. "What'd you give her?"

"Fixer spiked with Mentats. Put her brain on overdrive and completely flushed the dopamine from her system. That misery she was feeling may have been shot into uncontrollable pain and rage. So actually I think she handled it rather well. She took it out on Mortimer instead of, you know, me."

"Holy shit."

Arcade nodded his head in agreement. "You said it."

"She'll be good tomorrow?"

"Let her sleep it off and she'll be set to go invade another casino with you. Count me out though. I'm going back to normal, sane work at the Mormon Fort," Arcade said. "I've had enough covert ops for a while."

Knox and Arcade lapsed into silence, watching Veronica and Ava. For as close to disaster as the entire mission had come, everything had turned out rather well. Ava's temporary, medically-induced psychosis aside. The White Glove Society hadn't even banned them or anything.

This was a long one folks. I hope it didn't seem too disjointed. I also hope you enjoyed Knox and Veronica's escapade in the basement! Next time, it's on to the Gomorrah!