Author's Note: Well, it seems like I'm on a roll tonight. I have inspiration flowing out of me faster than a muse. Anyway, thanks for the reviews people. All three of you, hahaha!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Fallout characters, nor the source material. The only character who came from my own imagination is the name and personality of the Courier, (and I don't own the "Courier" name, either). Oh, and I will probably make some references to Elvis Presley and his songs(and I don't own those either).

Chapter 3: Ask Me

Raven stared at the man before her, trying her best to feign a lack of interest. So this was The King of Kings. He was...unique, to say the least. The girl had run into her fair share of characters, but this guy took the whole Brahmin steak. Unique did not do his accent nor his calm eyes justice. He was smooth. Suave. And he knew it. Raven was innocent enough to be completely enamored by him. Or at least before she got shot in the head. She immediately returned to business and holstered her gun. The King motioned for his men to lower their weapons. As they did, Boone mimicked the gesture. Pacer walked toward the King, rubbing his cheek that was swollen, for sure. Raven laughed viciously in her own mind.

"You'll have to forgive Pacer. He means well. How much did he take from you?"

"You mean before I tried to knock his teeth in?" She thought to herself. "He attempted to take fifty caps from me." Raven shook her head. "Not to mention the bastard tried to grab my ass."

The King seemed shocked. Raven almost regretted ratting Pacer out when she saw King's expression change from one of civility to one that could make Fiends shit their pants. Before she had a chance to say anything, the King turned to Pacer with fury and even more shock. "Is this true, Pacer?"

Pacer snapped at the newcomer. "She had a stick in it. I was trying to get it out."

Raven would have burst out laughing had she not already despised the man. Instead, she raised a finger at him. "That stick is there for a reason," she mocked. "It keeps me from getting swindled out of caps," she barked.

Pacer smirked. "Was the stick lodged in there before or after you got that pretty little scar on your forehead?"

"Pacer!" the King shouted.

The temperature seemed to rise in the room at that point. The crowd in the room either groaned or laughed out of awkwardness. The King watched her face turn red with anger. As a preventative, Boone took a few steps toward her and grasped her shoulder before Raven could allow herself to lose control. The King faced Pacer, obviously disappointed in his friend's behavior. Pacer held his hands up, as if to surrender.

"I'm just sayin'..."

"Pacer, keep your mouth shut!" The King snapped. Pacer only responded with a groan, and his leader continued. "We'll talk about your behavior another time, Pace. In the meantime, go cool off somewhere."

Pacer begrudgingly walked to the front door, but not without giving the girl and her friend a sinister look. When he left, Raven spoke. "Is he always that "enthusiastic" with strangers?"

The King glanced at her and noticed the aforementioned scar. It looked fresh; new. This piqued his interest in the woman. "Sometimes. Pacer's been under a lot of pressure lately. That doesn't excuse him, though. I apologize for the trouble." He paused, waiting for her response.

She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to lean on one leg. "He was no more trouble than I'm used to, but...apology accepted."

The woman's expression was one of ice and skepticism. Her eyes were fierce; harsh, and a shade of green he had never seen before. Brilliantly green, and he felt a strange twitch in his gut. A few smudges of dirt on her cheeks, some blood stains on her leather armor, a few strands of dark hair failing to stay tucked in her lazy bun...nothing too abnormal out in the Mojave Wasteland, but it was her eyes that really stood out. Despite the rough exterior, the King wondered if there was any softness behind the seemingly impenetrable shell. He was so distracted by his thoughts he almost missed her speak.

"...Is there something bothering you about my appearance?"

The King blinked suddenly, regaining his composure. "Not at all, miss," he replied. "Not at all." He unconsciously added a cool emphasis in his voice.

Her cold expression and her features softened for a moment. If she didn't know any better, Raven would say he was flirting with her. Was that even possible after her less-than-peaceful entrance? Maybe he wasn't taking her seriously because of it. Oh, great. Nothing more embarrassing than being hit on by the leader of some gang who probably had enough charm and caps to never have a shortage of hookers around. The ice in her face reappeared. "Nice first impression, Raven." she thought to herself. "He'll probably ask to buy you a drink next."

Much to her surprise, though, he did not. "Anyway, I assume you have a reason for comin' by. Come sit with me for a spell so we can get down to business."

Raven nodded, and Boone and her followed the King into the next room.