Author's Note: Hard to find time to write these days. I actually completely removed a subplot from this chapter because I'm trying to keep things moving. For people still reading and leaving reviews, thank you so much!

Waking up the next morning was slow. She was aware, first, of the pain behind her eyes. A steady ache that seemed to shift her sense of direction with each turn of her head. Not the worst she'd had after a night of drinking, but enough to remind her of her bad decisions. She was warm, comfortable, with the weight of the blankets heavy around her. It was enough to drag her back through stages of half-sleep, her eyes bleary and out of focus as time drifted by, an oblivious measurement marked only by the growing light of the window frame as it travelled along the darkened wall. It was only when Riley went to stretch did she notice that the blankets and sheets weren't on her at all, that they'd been kicked off some time in the middle of the night. The weight around her was, in fact, Boone, with his arm draped across her midriff and one leg hooked around her ankles like a heated anchor, his face nestled into the back of her neck.

This wasn't, she assumed, what he meant when he said he had her back. He'd made himself clear, hadn't he? He didn't want her. Or didn't want to want her. She wasn't sure which option hurt more, but that didn't matter. She'd respect it. She had to. If it made him stay, if it kept him safe, if it made anything about any of this easier for either of them. She'd respect it.

But she couldn't get up. The moment she tried his grip tightened and she was pulled closer, his breath a heated glow against her skin. Her heart began to pound as he realised she was now a half-naked teddy bear in an uncomfortable situation.

She patted his arm. Lightly, at first, then harder when he didn't stir.

"Boone," she hissed his name, tapping harder. "Get up."

He made some noise, thick with sleep as he shifted and leaned his weight against her. His hand dropped to where the belt of her bathrobe was falling open, and her breath caught in her throat as he slipped inside, letting rough, calloused fingers glide over her bare skin to hold her in place. She licked her lips, feeling her body growing warm from the contact while at the same time trying to remain very, very still. This was definitely on that list of things she wanted him to do.

"Boone." She said his name louder, struggling to hold a steady voice.

"Hmm?"

She exhaled sharply, relieved. Easy part done. Now for the awkward bit.

"Let me go?"

He shifted. She could feel him lift his head, take in their position. There was a small, muted burst of laughter from outside the room, followed by a responding holler from one of the Garrets most likely. It jolted her, a reminder of both where they were and just how insulated they were just now. Nobody knew she was pressed up against Boone, that they'd slept in the same bed, or that he had his hands on her. Nobody knew this was almost exactly what she wanted. Nobody knew that her stomach quivered under his fingers.

But his hand remained where it was, and he didn't pull away from her. And nobody knew.

"Boone?"

He sighed, long and ragged. "I—"

He didn't get to finish. The handle of the door rattled, and in the next moment before either of them could react, the door opened and the lights turned on, blinding them both.

"Riley, get up." Arcade waltzed into the room. "We have problems and—oh."

Boone's grip loosened and Riley bolted upright, disentangling herself from her partner and fumbling to fix her bathrobe so that it was tied securely. She took one bracing breath even as Boone quietly rolled himself off the other edge of the bed and made for the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Arcade faltered as they scrambled. Riley looked over at him, noting his doctor's bag in one hand, her backpack in the other. He hung in the doorway, unsure, as he glanced between her and the bathroom door. Whatever he'd seen hanging in the air between them.

"I can—" he cleared his throat. "Give you a minute?"

The sound of the water turning on in the bathroom filled the silence and she sighed. "Why bother? Do your thing, catch me up." She held out her arm, ready for the usual check-up. She had taken far too many hits to the head in the last few weeks, that Arcade was constantly checking on her. She figured after yesterday, this called for another one.

Arcade hesitated, his gaze still lingering on the bathroom door, but then he seemed to shake himself and close the door behind him. He moved forward, sitting next to her on the bed and setting her bag down at her feet. Riley sat still while he checked her eyes, though she flinched from the brightness of it. He checked her reflexes, balance, her heart rate. The water kept running.

"What problems do we have?" she asked while he scribbled in a notebook.

"Oh. Uh. Boone left," he scratched behind his ear with his pen. "But uh… I guess you found him."

He glanced at the bathroom door—again—and Riley got the sense he was debating on pushing that line of conversation further. His pen tapped nervously against the pad of his paper, but in the end he shook his head and squared his shoulders. Back to business. "Got Tanner's message and brought you your bag. Everyone's downstairs waiting for you."

Everyone. Lovely.

"My rifle?"

"With Cass. Downstairs." He smiled at her expression. "She wants to talk to you once we're done."

She sighed. "Guess that one can't be avoided."

"Do you want to?" He looked at her, a genuinely confused frown gracing his handsome features.

"No. Maybe." She shook her head. "We'll talk. What else?"

"Oh. Well. Message came in this morning from the good ambassador," Arcade told her. "But you weren't around so I went to answer your summons for you."

She snorted. "And what did the good ambassador have to say?"

"Well he thought you were dead," Arcade shrugged. "I walked in like the harbinger of bad news, he said. Anyway, he says the Freeside uh… issue, isn't resolved yet. In fact it's getting worse, with more violence against NCR citizens and he wondered if you might, uh, fix that."

Hell.

"Yeah I bet he does." She stood, stretching her limbs out while Arcade gathered his things back into his bag. He glanced at the bathroom door one more time, only this time Riley's annoyance piqued. She'd be damned if she was still going to be subject to the will-they-or-won't-they debate after the last two days.

"ED-E still behaving?" she asked him. He froze. "Any more secret messages from Enclave-what's-his-face?"

"No," he drew out the word. "Might want to ask Veronica about that. I'll be downstairs."

It didn't take long for Boone to emerge once Arcade left. He grabbed his sunglasses off the nightstand, picked his duffel off the floor and headed right for the door. She wasn't sure she wanted to address the morning cuddle either, especially after he'd shut her down once already. But Boone paused in the middle of the room, cursing something under his breath as he shifted his boots around to face her.

She waited. He opened his mouth, but his words stuck in his throat and he made a show of clearing his throat before trying again.

"Y—"

She lifted a brow as he struggled again. "Yes?"

Another clearing of his throat. "We'll do this later," he said finally. "When things aren't… like this."

"Boone—"

He shook his head, but said nothing else. He left quietly and she got dressed quickly, forcing herself to get her mind on Freeside, on work, and was just lacing up her boots when Cass threw open the door, Riley's rifle slung over her shoulder.

"Heard you were drinking."

Riley sighed. "At this rate I think all of Freeside has heard." She finished with her boot and swivelled in her seat to face her friend, ready for whatever was coming. A fistfight? Another argument? Riley debated apologizing—again—but figured it was best to let Cass lead the conversation, whatever it was, especially when the woman was holding Riley's weapon. She waited, until Cass took a bracing breath and stepped forward.

"Right, well," she squared her shoulders. "Not gonna make a big thing about this. Had a lot to think about and I honestly wasn't expecting you to pull through with evidence. Can imagine the shit you went through to get it, which makes me grateful, and it got me thinking." She scratched the back of her head and took a bracing breath. Riley waited. "Starting a war with the Crimson Caravan and the Van Graffs right now isn't doing you any favours, not when you have half the Mojave breathing down your neck. You went through the trouble, and I feel like I owe you the same." She paused, and Riley got the sense she was wondering how to word whatever was next. "I was blaming you for a lot, I know that. But you're not the reason these caravans were destroyed, and I took it out on you when you were only trying to help. So I'm sorry."

Riley blinked. Of all the things Cass could have said, she was not expecting an apology. She opened her mouth to speak but Cass held up a hand.

"Hang on. Now, that being said, they still gotta pay for what they did. So I figure whatever suggestions you have, I'm willing to hear 'em. Figure I owe you that much after being a bitch."

The corner of Riley's mouth twitched. "What if you don't like what I have to say?"

"I said I'd hear 'em," Cass repeated. "Give it some thought."

She thought back to what Ringo wanted. And while she was of the mind that Cass had a right to do whatever the hell she wanted, if she was asking for her opinion, well, it wouldn't hurt to give it.

"I think turning in the evidence is the best option we got if avoiding a war with them is what you want."

"Figured you'd say that."

"You did?"

"Ringo pushed for it too."

Riley cocked her head, wondering if the man 'fessed up. "That's where you went yesterday morning? Crimson Caravan?"

Cass shrugged. "Was gonna shoot McLafferty in the face, but on the walk there I thought about what you did to try and get me answers. So when I got there, I just decided to see what he had to say."

Riley decided that was best left between them, or was at least a discussion for another time. She reached for her bag, rummaging through until she found her holster and grenade belt. "Well. Is there anyone you trust in the NCR?"

"Besides you?" Cass inclined her head, thinking. "Jackson at the Mojave Outpost. I was laid up there for weeks, if you recall, so I got a good look at the man and what he stands for. I think he could get the information to the right people out west, push for an investigation. I wouldn't trust anyone closer to the Colorado."

Riley nodded. She figured Cass had the right of it, and it was important that she trust the person they handed this off too. Despite what she found, they had no idea if others in the area were involved, or who else stood to profit. Plus, she remembered Jackson, and his moustache. The safety of the caravans stuck at that Outpost was his primary concern. He was a good choice.

"Jackson it is. We can—"

"No. I figure I got this part."

"Huh?"

"I'll take it to the Outpost," Cass stated, like it was a done deal. Riley frowned.

"Alone? But—"

"I will figure it out," she assured her, enunciating each word. "I won't go alone. Gimme a few days to see what I can put together, with the gang or another caravan, but I'm not putting this one on you. You have enough on your plate."

"Can I at least—"

"How about," Cass said, cutting her off for the third time. "We talk about the details later. Let's get you out of Freeside first." She shifted, lifting Riley's rifle off her shoulder and holding it out to her. She took it, meeting her friend's gaze and nodding just once.

"So we're good?"

Cass smiled. "Yeah. We're good."

Riley wanted to tackle the issue with Freeside right away, which got some groans and no small amount of arguing considering Pacer was still an issue to be dealt with. She made it worse the moment she decided to only take Gannon and Veronica, sending the rest of them back to the 38. Boone was anxious about not being there, was anxious about being back here, and the moment he was back in their suite he dumped his gear and took to looking for something to occupy his time. Riley had a few handguns laying around, things she'd picked up here and there. He took the time to gather them up, then cleared a space at the far end of the dining table to see what needed doing. It was better to have something to do, keep his mind off things. Off her.

Cass appeared in the doorway as he was setting up. He was still laying things out while she moved to start making coffee. She glanced at him every now and then. While she ground the beans, while she boiled the water, while she poured into the fancy French press that Victor had to give her instructions on. Tiny, covert glances that told him something was on her mind, and he didn't really have to guess hard as to what.

Once her coffee was steaming in a mug, she took one sip, sighed, and then made a slow and deliberate line for the chair across from him.

"In your craw that she didn't take you, ain't it?"

His jaw clenched once. "She has her reasons."

"What, that bullshit about you being too much of a soldier? Yeah," she inclined her head, watching him. "Guess I could see it. Last thing they need is another NCR invader to piss off Pacer's gang. Still bugs you, though."

"She has a target on her back," he reminded her. "Hard to keep an eye on her when I'm stuck in here."

"Hard to keep an eye on her when you're not here at all."

His hands paused briefly, the tool in his hand hovering in the air for a small second while he slid his eyes up to meet the blue of hers. Her expression said she knew everything. He wondered how many of them knew what he'd been planning. "You were leaving just the other day if I recall correctly."

"That's different. You and her are different."

"Not really."

She whipped out a folded-up piece of paper and held it up like currency, Riley's name scrawled on the outside in his handwriting. He recognised it instantly, knew that he left it on Riley's bedside table just before he tried to leave town. Before Tanner stopped him and he ended up in Riley's bed. She quirked a brow. "Yes really."

He put down his tools, considered his options. "That was for Riley."

Her smile grew. "Then I'll give it to Riley."

"You read it." It wasn't an accusation. More a statement of fact. She shrugged.

"Seemed pertinent at the time."

"That's—"

"Now I didn't get on Riley's case about this because we had other things to air out and she's had a rough few days," she said, taking another sip of her coffee. "You're another story, and kind of in deep shit, if I understand the way she looked at you this morning."

"What do you want, Cass."

She waved the letter, fanning her face with it lightly as she sat back in her chair. "What made you change your mind?"

"She asked me to stay."

"That simple, huh?"

"I'm a simple guy."

"Somehow I—" she cut herself off as the elevator dinged. They exchanged a look. Was someone leaving or was Riley back already? They stood in tandem and moved toward the hall. They arrived just in time to see Riley walk into her room. Veronica and Arcade stood there awkwardly, then the good doctor followed her inside, closing the door behind him. Boone looked to Veronica just as Raul rounded the corner from the bathroom.

"What happened?"

"Uh. We walked in on a showdown," she said. "Riley wanted to check with the King, make sure he knew she was going to be working on this. But the moment we walked into the School, it was that NCR squad facing off against Pacer and his crew." She shook her head. "I don't know what we expected to happen. They—the NCR—were offering supplies. The King heard them out. More power, food, water, for all of Freeside, and all they wanted was for the attacks on the squatters to stop. It was reasonable. I thought so anyway. Guess Pacer saw differently. Words were said, the King ordered him to stand down. Riley tried to stay out of sight, nobody had seen us walk in, y'know? She didn't want to make things worse. But Pacer saw her, and he fired the first shot right at her."

Boone swore inwardly. Veronica took in his expression but kept going.

"Tanner tried to shove her out of the way, at the same time as a soldier jumped in front of her. Then—" she heaved a heavy sigh. "I think they'll be digging bullets out of the wall for years."

"Was Tanner hurt?" Cass asked. Veronica shook her head.

"He's fine. A few of the soldiers took some shots, but nothing too serious. Pacer took one to the throat." She shook her head once more as Cass whistled low. "That's one less target off Riley's back, at least."

"If we're picking off targets one by one, is the Legion next?" Cass shook a hand through her hair.

"Seems like this was more luck than anything," Raul suggested. "I'm not sure taking on a nation of slavers is in her best interest. Remember what happened yesterday. She needs a break."

Boone stared at the door to her room, wondering what her next move was.

"What are the odds of me pulling you away from Freeside for a few days?" Riley blurted out once Arcade closed the door behind him.

"Running away together? I know I have my charms, but I had no idea it was getting serious."

That got a smile out of her. She stepped back, hands fidgety while the adrenaline from the shoot-out came crashing down. Outside, she could hear voices and figured Veronica was giving them the rundown on what happened.

"It'd be me, you, and Boone," she said, pacing slightly. "And I promise no missile strikes. Probabl— Maybe no missile strikes."

Sighing, he moved over to the couch and sat down. He ran a hand over his face, watching her steadily. "Maybe not your best sell."

"Ugh, I know."

"So what is this? Are we going back to Nellis?"

"No."

He waited a beat, watching her while she walked the length of the room, picking things up off tables, setting them back down again. "Pacer's gone," he said. "You don't have to avoid Freeside anymore."

She scoffed. "I may not have fired a single bullet today, but there is no way in hell I don't catch some flak for this." She sat down on the bed, changed her mind, and stood up again. "I'll check in with the King, offer my condolences. I don't know. But I don't want to be here right now and I have a promise to keep to Boone anyway."

"Ah," he said. "Which is?"

"Bitter Springs."