Chapter Summary: Beth and Boone return to New Vegas and take the next step in their relationship. Later, Mr. House has a demonstration for the Courier and she learns why he has placed so much trust in her.

Chapter 20: We've Only Just Begun

It was after dark when Beth and Boone returned to the Lucky 38. As eager as Mr. House was to get his Chip and as eager as she was to be rid of it, she'd keep him waiting a little longer while she scrubbed the Mojave off her and had a decent night's sleep. Tired, sweaty, and grimy wasn't exactly how she wanted to make her triumphant return after all these weeks.

Not partial to having a robot hanging around watching her, she had asked Victor to remain in the casino and he complied.

After taking much-appreciated hot showers, the companions climbed into the warm, soft bed in the suite's master bedroom. There was still some light streaming in through the window from the moon and the glittering casinos outside, but the sounds of the Strip were dulled to near silence by the distance and heavy glass.

Boone moved closer to Beth and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. She nuzzled into his shoulder and he kissed her forehead with a contented sigh. Then he lifted her chin and she felt his lips on hers, gentle and inviting.

With her heart beating faster, she returned the kiss, unsure what was going to happen next. Was he really ready to take things further?

Breaking the kiss gently, she planted tender pecks on his cheek, then chin, then neck, feeling him shiver a little in response as he ran his fingers through her hair. Her hands moved under the hem of his shirt and caressed his muscular chest, then moved to his back, pulling him against her. Rubbing his hands over her back, his breath quickened. Letting a breathless moan escape her lips, she savored the feeling of his skin under her fingers. As she pushed up his shirt, he leaned back to let her pull it up over his head and she tossed it aside.

Beth then grasped her tank top and pulled it up over her head, revealing her bare breasts. She stared into his deep green eyes. It was apparent why he so often hid behind his aviators, since the stony exterior he tried to project would easily be betrayed by the vulnerability of his kind eyes. Putting her hand to his cheek, she smiled and slowly guided him back to her, their lips meeting again. Embracing, their warm skin together was at the same time comforting and exciting, familiar and unfamiliar. As their warm bodies melted against one another, he seemed to suddenly tense against her touch.

She paused, pulling back. "Are you okay?" she asked in a whisper.

He nodded. "Yeah...yes."

"We can stop, if you want," she reassured him genuinely. "It's fine."

Shaking his head, he confirmed, "No...I'm good. It's just been a while, is all."

"Then let's take things slow," she whispered. It had been a long time for her, too.

He nodded. "Yes, slow." Closing the distance between them, he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her gently, then more urgently as they leaned back together against the pillows.

Boone peeked open his eyes and for a moment, he forgot where he was, as the feeling of the soft bed and the smooth, clean sheets was unfamiliar. Then he remembered and he smiled. Turning over, he saw that the other side of the bed was vacant. He sat up and Beth was sitting on one of the couches at the other end of the room, dressed in dark pants and a blue button-up shirt. She had just finished putting on her boots.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" he asked slyly. "Had your fun, now you're just going to up and leave before coffee?"

Looking up, she smiled at him. "Hey, sleepy. It's nearly ten. I was going to let you sleep while I went to give House the Chip." She walked over to his side of the bed and sat down. "If I wait too much longer, I think he might send Victor to get me. I won't be gone long, I hope."

Boone couldn't remember the last time he had slept so late. Wordlessly, he reached one hand to her cheek, leading her to him, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. Pulling back, he looked at her warmly and replied, "Don't be."

"Have you come to deliver the Platinum Chip?" Mr. House's voice was even, but she could hear a hint of nervous excitement.

"Yes, here it is," she said, pulling the still bloodied thing from her pocket without hesitation, holding it up between her thumb and forefinger. She had thought about cleaning it, but wanted him to at least see some of the blood that was spilled for his little prize.

"Insert it into the slot in the console."

"Gladly." She followed his instructions, more than happy to never lay eyes on the Chip again.

"Such a small thing, isn't it?" His tone softened, as if he could almost feel it in his hands. "Yet so...capacious. So very dear. I spent decades hiring salvagers out west to scan for this little...relic in the ruins of RobCo's west coast headquarters in a place called Sunnyvale."

"Sunnyvale? Hm, sounds like a nice place."

"It wasn't without its charms," he replied. "It was near the heart of a valley brimming with technological innovation, back then anyway. The Chip was printed there on October 22, 2077. It was to have been hand-delivered here the next day. But the bombs fell first and the Chip was lost."

Ironically, RobCo's east coast headquarters was still largely intact, she knew. Had the Chip been printed there, he might have received it much sooner. She wondered if he was aware of that. "So what happens now?"

"A great deal shall be happening—a cascade of events with you, Ms. Evans, taking a central role. But first, I have a demonstration for you. Take the elevator down to the sub-basement. There you will understand the significance of what you accomplished at the Fort." She knew he didn't mean taking out the legionaries, or assassinating Caesar, or taking care of Benny. The Chip seemed to be all he cared about.

Beth hesitated. She wasn't sure what he wanted to show her, but part of her was curious to see what Mr. House had dedicated so much time and money retrieving. She figured she might as well see it through, since she had nearly died for it—whatever it was.

The ride down took longer than she expected, making her wonder how deep underground this sub-basement was. When the doors opened, she was in a large concrete room cut in half by a force-field of some sort with a platform in front of it. The air was cold and smelled of concrete, metal, and grease.

"Come closer to the demonstration area, if you would," came House's voice again from the distance, though his image was nowhere to be seen. She complied, walking up the few steps onto the platform. The room beyond the force field was three stories tall with securitrons lined up on either side. Several more stood in the center of the room facing targets set up against freestanding cinder block walls. House then described and demonstrated the capabilities of the securitrons' Mark I operating system, which she was familiar with. She had seen their Gatling lasers and machine guns "defending" the gate to New Vegas from those unable to pass the credit check. "These are the securitrons' secondary weapons."

Then he proceeded to demonstrate the much more powerful "primary" weapons, which were now active thanks to the software upgrade from the Platinum Chip. Rockets shot out from the securitrons and the floor shook beneath her with each explosion as they blasted against their targets. She was thankful for the force field as large bits of flaming shrapnel were flying toward it that she otherwise would have had to dodge.

This was an impressive, and somewhat alarming demonstration of firepower. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but this wasn't it. And there were hundreds more of these robots in the bunker under the Fort. It was all quite unnerving and she really wished she had Boone there with her. Then she wondered when she had begun to rely so much on his presence for comfort and security.

"The City of New Vegas finally has soldiers worthy of protecting it," Mr. House's voice said, sounding quite proud. "Please, return to the Penthouse. We have much to discuss."

"I hope you now understand the importance of the Platinum Chip, why it was so critical to retrieve," House continued as she walked back down the steps of the penthouse to the monitor. "I've since broadcast the upgrade to every securitron in range of my transmitters and the ones at the Fort are ready to be activated."

Beth addressed the screen, trying not to reveal how agitated she was after the demonstration in the sub-basement. "Are you planning on going to war with Caesar's Legion and the NCR?" She hadn't forgotten her promise to Boone, that no NCR citizen would be harmed. Now she was worried that she wouldn't be able to keep that promise.

"Why would I want to go to war against the NCR?" he asked casually. "Their money keeps Vegas in business. If their leaders would continue to honor our original agreement and respect the sovereignty of New Vegas, I'd have no problems with the NCR at all."

"Huh," she thought. "Maybe something can be done about that."

"Caesar's Legion will attack Hoover Dam any day now," he stated. "In the meantime, there are other matters to attend to."

"Such as?"

"There are several lesser groups that may either be helpful or problematic to our efforts in the near future. I need you to make some interventions on my behalf. But one step at a time."

"What I still don't understand is why you're trusting me with all this. You don't really know anything about me." After what happened with Benny, she was amazed he would be this open and trusting of anyone, let alone some random courier from the Wastes who had been shot in the head.

"Actually, I know quite a lot about you. You are Elizabeth Catherine Evans, born to the late Doctors James and Catherine Evans at the Jefferson Memorial, in the ruins of former Washington D.C. A resident of Vault 101 until your nineteenth year, you subsequently disarmed an atomic bomb, infiltrated Rob-Co's east coast headquarters, and single-handedly destroyed the Enclave base at Raven Rock. Need I go on?"

Beth's jaw fell open and she stared at the screen in blank shock. "How...how do you know all that?"

"Your Pip-Boy."

She looked down at the device on her arm, her constant companion since she was ten years old. Suddenly, she felt very exposed, her whole life laid out in the open. She took a step backward. Normally, the files could only be accessed with her authorization, but this was a Rob-Co product, which meant it was a Robert House design.

"When?!" she demanded.

"Victor accessed the data in Goodsprings. If I was considering you as Benny's replacement, I needed to know all I could. I was quite pleased to see that you exceeded the qualifications of the position in nearly every way. Your varying and impressive accomplishments show you to be an intelligent, resourceful, and reliable young woman. One whose skills have been wasted as a caravan guard and courier."

Perhaps if she hadn't felt so vulnerable and shaken in that moment, she might have taken offense to his criticism of her vocational choices. Too many thoughts were racing through her mind, though. She started to speak, then stopped, attempting to grasp some words to fit the situation, but she found none. "I do not know what to say."

"I do apologize for the violation of your privacy, but it was necessary. As I said, I need you to take a central role in the events to come. New Vegas is more than a city-it's the remedy to mankind's...derailment. The city's economy is a blast furnace in which can be forged the steel of a new rail line, running straight to a new horizon. What is the NCR? A society full of people desperate to escape the reality of their post-apocalyptic existence and to experience comfort, ease, luxury...A society of customers. With all that money pouring in, give me twenty years, and I'll reignite the high technology development sectors to create technology that would be the envy of the Old World." The passion in his voice rose. "Fifty years, and I'll have people in orbit. One hundred years, and my colony ships will be heading for the stars. I'm offering humanity a real future, one unpolluted by the wrath and folly of a bygone generation."

Blinking at the image on the screen, she put her fingertips to her temples, then gestured with her hands. "That's what all of this is about? Interstellar space colonization?"

"Indeed it is."

She had not expected this. It sounded unbelievable, even insane. He wasn't just going to make the broken world into something else-he was going to build a whole new one. "In the meantime, you'd rule Vegas as some kind of dictator?"

"I prefer the term 'autocrat.' I would rule as a chief executive. I would not answer to a board of directors or any other entity. Nothing to impede progress. If you want to see the fate of democracies, look out the windows."

She couldn't help but glance out the windows and think of all the ruin outside: wrath and folly indeed. Running a hand over face, she was still trying to process all she had just learned, but it was too much. "Okay...if I continue to work with you-and that is a big if-my Pip-Boy is off-limits from now on."

"Agreed."

She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "I need to think about all this."

"Think quickly."

The suite was silent except for metallic clicking as Boone meticulously broke down to clean and oil his Gobi scout rifle. It was probably the nicest gun he had ever used and it was even more special because Beth had given it to him. She said she knew he'd put it to good use and he had-after all, this was the rifle he'd used to unceremoniously assassinate Caesar. The thought brought a smug grin to his lips. It wasn't the long, arduous stalking kill he had fantasized about so often, but it was still satisfying and effective. He had even gotten to savor the scene for a few moments after.

The rifle he had been using before wasn't special, just something he'd picked up from Cliff's shop with a few parts switched out and a scope added. It was a tool, nothing more. He didn't have his service sniper rifle anymore, the one that had been with him for so many years though his time in First Recon, through the Battle of Hoover Dam, through his first few months as Novac's nighttime sniper. That one had gone with him the first time he went to Cottonwood Cove. After that, he could no longer stand to have it in his hands. The touch of it all but burned his fingers with grief and guilt. It now rested deep in the sand in its grave beside the house he had shared with Carla, never to be used by anyone again.

He shook the dark thoughts away. There would still be times when he would grieve, but not now. After the events of the previous night, his feelings were complicated enough at the moment without adding more in. Besides, Beth was meeting with Mr. House and he had to stay focused in case she needed him. He wasn't going to let her down. As much as he hated the idea of her going to the meeting alone, he reminded himself that House had gone out of his way to keep her alive, so she was safe.

The pieces of the rifle went back together with practiced ease. When he was done with that task, he stood up and paced a bit. He was unsure of what was going to happen next. Would they stay here? Would they move on? Back before they left the bunker below the Fort, House had said something about Beth having a future working for him, but she hadn't said anything about it either way.

There was no working clock in the suite, so he couldn't tell exactly how long she had been gone, but it seemed like hours. The almost deadened quiet of the suite was unsettling. To fill the silence, he switched on the old radio sitting on the table. The last few notes of a familiar song faded out and then the smooth, deep voice of Mr. New Vegas came through: "That was Peggy Lee singing her classic tune 'Johnny Guitar.' I don't know about you, but I never get tired of hearing it."

Boone groaned.

"In recent news, the Mojave Express courier that was found shot in the head outside of Goodsprings has made a full recovery. Now that's a delivery service you can count on."

"Recent" was a relative term, it seemed. News was a variable and unreliable thing in the Mojave, often traveling better through rumors than through what scarce media there was out here. Boone reflected, that had he heard that news story before he knew Beth, he probably wouldn't have paid much attention to it. People get shot all the time in the Wasteland and being a courier is a particularly dangerous job. Recovering after being shot in the head was the only thing that made it newsworthy.

"Coming up, let's imagine taking a little trip just the two of us, as I play 'Let's Ride into the Sunset Together,'" Mr. New Vegas said. Then music began to play.

Boone's dark thoughts crept in again and he thought about Carla. It was a terrible irony that she and Beth had such a thing in common. He had done his best not to think about that. The question of whether his wife could have survived was dismissed the second he thought it. It was one thing to survive a couple of poorly aimed shots from a 9mm wielded by an amateur, but it was quite another to survive a precision shot from a rifle wielded by a First Recon sniper.

He forced the thoughts away again and walked out of the lounge and into the master bedroom. The radio wasn't distracting him as he'd hoped it would—quite the opposite, in fact—and he was growing more restless. Looking over the bookshelf against the wall, the books were very well preserved, much like everything else in the suite. Until they arrived, nothing in here had been touched by human hands in over two hundred years and the solid walls protected it all from the decay of the outside world. It was like a pre-war museum.

He had already looked over pretty much every inch of the suite while Beth recovered the last time they were here. Nothing had changed here since then, but everything felt different. Before, she had been just Beth. Now she was Beth. Thinking back, the feeling of almost losing her was much more pronounced now. If she had died, he would have lost more than he ever would have realized.

He heard the elevator ding and then heavy footsteps march through the doorway behind him. Turning from the bookshelf, he asked, "Everything go okay?"

"Grab your pack. We're leaving," Beth announced sternly as she began throwing her loose belongings into her bag.

Her tone and expression made him ask, "For now or...for good?"

"I don't know."

"What happened?

"Not here."

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere but here."