Something's tearing me down
And I can't help but feel it's coming from you
She's a gunshot bride
With a trigger cries
I just wonder what we've gotten ourselves into

Chapter Five: Can't Wait To Be King

The doors to the Lucky 38 flung open as she barreled into the street, her arms covering her head, trying to remain as low as possible. The dirt around her feet rose in thick clouds as she ran. She could hear the ricochet of gunfire around her and she watched in mild horror as a trash can next to her lurched from the force of being struck, it's aluminum shell rolling away from her. That was a close one.

She had made the mistake of leaving the hidden door to House's location open and after a few moments an alarm began to blare. Little did she know that a fail-safe had been installed to ensure House's safety, which meant that if any of the doors leading to the antechamber were open for longer than a set time, an alarm would alert the Securitrons. She should've expected House to possess something like that, but instead she just assumed she was in the clear.

Avery never claimed to be good at any of this.

Her heart thumped wildly and she swallowed, trying to avoid a Securitron who cut into her path. She was narrowly able to avoid colliding with the giant titanium nuisance and took a sharp left turn, hearing the whir of its Gatling lasers as it prepared to fire. A crowd of NCR soldiers huddled outside of Gomorrah, cheering and ogling at two ghoul criers and she dove into the crowd. Her stealth boy was still active but it had done little to hide her from the Securitron's sensors. If her knowledge of robotics was worth anything, then she knew that hiding her heat signature in a group was her only chance at getting out of this alive. Since her bio-signature was covered by the stealth boy, the Securitrons had to go off of heat. But now that she was surrounded by some particularly… hot NCR soldiers, it should be enough to throw them off.

Should be.

She threw a glance over her shoulder as she stood in the crowd, watching as Securitrons gathered at the mouth of the casino. Her breathing came in short spurts and she swallowed again, trying to bring moisture to her dry throat. A weight pushed down on her abdomen and she wheezed. It was hard to believe she was this out of shape. She made a mental note to retrain her endurance.

A few Securitron's rolled along the perimeter of the NCR group, the faces on their screens still flickering and aggressive. She watched the dancer's idly as a Securitron came within a few feet of her, its sensors humming as it scanned the crowd. There was a brief moment where the scanning was done but, apparently unhappy with the results, the Securitron began another scan. She heard a low hum as her stealth boy deactivated, her protective shield dissolving and retracting back into its case.

Her heart catapulted to her throat and she grimaced, trying to keep her heart rate down. The palms of her hands grew sweaty beneath her gloves and she fought the desire to rip them off.

The minute of scanning felt like hours and she shuffled from one foot to another, her leg bouncing impatiently as she waited, trying her hardest to avoid eye contact. Finally the second round of scanning was done and the Securitron stood, its demeanor changing from aggressive to neutral. She let out a relieved sigh as the regular, stern programmed face of the Securitron returned. She was genuinely surprised that hiding worked. House's Securitrons weren't as smart as she anticipated.

After a few moments the Securitron in question rolled away and back its post near the Lucky 38. She saw her moment to slip away and pushed her way out of the crowd, trying to ignore the boisterousness of the NCR crowd as she moved along. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her leather pants and threw a final glance over her shoulder, watching as Victor rolled aimlessly around the opening of the casino.

She shook her head and moved towards the gates.

When she reached Freeside the first thing she noticed was how quiet the area was.

It was still early morning, she reminded herself, but the stillness in the air was unfamiliar. Freeside had a penchant for being a chaotic mess, regardless of the time of day. Her first time visiting the slums of New Vegas, she had seen a gang of strung out residents jump a woman at nine in the morning. Avery had a compulsive desire to be the hero in any situation so she intervened, succinctly executing the thugs with her 10mm machine gun. The poor woman was bruised and bloodied and tried to offer Avery a handful of caps for saving her life, but Avery declined. It was ten caps and it was all the woman had to her name. It would be unjust to accept something like that from a person who had nothing, so she just gave the woman one of her many pistols and told her to be careful.

That was when she had met the King. After her original encounter with the downtrodden Freeside woman, Avery had done a lot to try and help the failing community. It was something she felt obligated to do, as she was never the one to see misfortune and misdeeds happen around her without taking action. King had been sending his goonies to track her down and hand over various presents—like stimpaks, radaway, and even bottle caps. She ended up donating a lot of those stimpaks to the Followers of the Apocalypse since they were in dire need of supplies. But after the fifth goony to hunt her down she decided to finally meet this mysterious King.

She was pulled from her reverie as she approached The King's center of operations, which had originally been a school of some sort before the war. A large, purple neon sign flickered in welcome as she advanced upon the building. Two King members were posted at either side and they waved her in without hesitation.

The building was lively as King members buzzed around the foyer, preparing for the day. The King's domicile doubled as a music venue, often drawing in weary travelers and soldiers from all across the wastes. The venue was always guarded by a rude greaser named Pacer, who tried to swindle her out of caps the first time she visited. Boone hadn't appreciated the guy's attitude and she had to jump in between the two before a brawl broke out. She smiled daftly at the memory of Boone's feathers being ruffled after Pacer had called him an "NCR dog."

She walked towards the back room and looked up and pursed her lips into a straight line. Speak of the devil.

"Well if it isn't our favorite little rabble rouser," Pacer said with a mischievous grin as he leaned against the doorframe. He raked a hand over his perfectly quaffed pompadour and let out a sigh. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"I need to speak with King," she responded evenly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Maybe the King don't want to see ya," Pacer responded easily.

"Cut the shit, you little weasel," she leisurely walked up to him so that she was only a foot away. She liked to invade the personal space of alpha males and often relished their uneasiness with her proximity. "Either you let me through or I kick your ass in front of all your little buddies."

Pacer let out a laugh and Avery bristled. She hated this guy.

"Well, don't threaten me with a good time, sweetheart," Pacer brought his hand up and pinched her cheek.

That was all it took. Avery felt white-hot rage burn in her chest and she pulled her arm back, balling her hand into a fist. She brought her fist down with all her strength and caught Pacer in the jaw. His head snapped backward and knocked against the drywall and he let out a yelp. She grabbed him by the collar and knotted her fingers through the denim of his gang uniform, holding him against the wall. Pacer stared down at her, his cerulean eyes wide, a large bruise already beginning to form along his jawline.

She brought her fist back to deliver another blow when she felt someone grab onto her arm, stopping her. Their fingers dug into the tender flesh of her wrist and she winced.

"Now, now, little lady," a smooth voice said behind her. "We don't want to be turnin' Pacer's brains into mush, now do we?"

Avery turned to meet the handsome face of The King and she faltered, feeling her muscles relax under his grasp. "His brains were mush before I slugged him."

At this, The King let out a chuckle. "I don't doubt that one bit. But… can you let him go?"

She turned her honey-colored eyes back to the greaser and released him with a sneer. He fell back against the wall with a grunt, staring daggers. The urge to punch him until he was physically unable to give her snotty looks like that was overwhelming, but she let her fist fall to her side. The King looped an arm around her shoulder and led her into the back room, and she glared at Pacer until he disappeared from view.

He steered her toward a table at the back of the venue. Most of the tables were barren from their usual setups, chairs flipped upside down on top of them, but one table was ready and set up in the corner. A lone greaser was sweeping the stage but save for him Avery and the King were alone. King pulled a chair out for her and she took it with muttered thanks. She expected him to join her but he wandered to the bar near the stage and began mixing drinks. It wasn't long before he rejoined her with a rocks glass in either hand, taking a seat adjacent from her.

He pushed the glass toward her with two fingers. "Where have you been?"

Avery picked the glass up and smelled the murky concoction, scrunching up her nose as the pungent scent of whiskey invaded her nostrils. "I took a vacation."

The King's features were ever impassive but a small frown tugged at his mouth, "A bit unusual and inconvenient, I must say. You were gone for quite some time, Avery. I was beginin' to wonder if you'd abandoned New Vegas for good."

"I would never," she said softly, sipping her drink. She grimaced. "I just needed a break from the stress of daily living. I had an opportunity and I took it, but I am sincerely sorry if I have inconvenienced you at all, King."

"You're back now," he said affably, resting a comforting hand atop hers. "That's all that matters."

She smiled despite herself. The King was charming and she was not above giving in to his wiles. He knew she was weak to his charms and he often used it to his advantage. Just because she allowed it to happen didn't mean she was ignorant to his manipulation, she just enjoyed the attention he gave her. Petty, maybe. But she wasn't about to stop.

"Can I ask why you're here at such an unusual hour?" He inquired, flashing her a smile. "Although, I'm not complainin' in the slightest."

This was it. This was her shining moment. She took in a deep, trembling breath. A delicate situation required some finesse and she contemplated on how exactly to give the King the news. She had to be eloquent, smooth, intelligent…

"House is dead," she deadpanned.

Okay… not as smooth as anticipated.

Those words, spoken so bluntly and without hesitancy, hung heavily in the air. She stirred her drink with her pinky only bringing it out to suck the unpleasant mixture from her appendage, staring at the man across from her intensely. His eyes, like two dark pools of onyx, were guarded and vapid as he stared. He blinked slowly, his hand clenching his glass an imperceptible amount. He knew what this meant, what bearing that simple statement had for the future of New Vegas. And so he stared in silent inquiry… or was that awe? Avery smirked slightly, the tip of her pinky running along the bottom of her lip.

"He's dead," he said back to her.

She could see the cogs turning, see a flash across his obsidian gaze. He brought a hand to his chin and rubbed his palm against his five o' clock shadow. His handsome face, which was usually guarded and enigmatic, was twisted with a mixture of unbidden emotion. A small frown formed between his knitted brows and he looked back to her.

"Do you know what this means?"

At this, Avery smiled, trying to ignore the guilt nestling deep within her core. "Of course."

"House is gone," he said again with a drawl. "New Vegas' freedom is so close that I can almost taste it, Ace."

She smiled at the use of his nickname for her. He always called her his Ace, his lucky card to play when things were going rough.

She was just relieved he didn't ask how she had carried out the deed. If she had to talk about sneaking into the casino and killing such a defenseless man, it would just reignite the remorse and turmoil she had felt earlier. His demise was necessary. She acknowledged that it had to happen, but she couldn't get the image of his distressed, pleading eyes and feeble body. It was like shooting a fish in a barrel… or something like that.

"I came straight to you," she rasped, trying to push away the memory of House in his final moments. "It happened only an hour ago and I thought you should be the first one to be notified. The news is bound to hit the streets by tonight, and I didn't want you to think of it as a rumor."

"Much obliged," King took a sip of his cocktail and leaned back in his chair, his eyes wandering to the stage.

He seemed a bit… troubled? Concerned? That was odd.

"Is everything all right, King?"

He turned his gaze back to her and she felt very small beneath it.

"I never thought this day would come. After years of plannin' and puttin' the wrong players on my team, I finally recruited the right one. You accomplished what many before you have not been able to, Ace. Freeside and The Kings are forever in your debt."

There was a pause as he stared at her.

"You are one of a kind," he added. "My Ace in the hole."

That was the proverbial nail in her coffin and she buried her face in her hands with a sigh. She felt heat prickle her cheeks as a blush spread across her features. Praise was not something she would ever grow accustom to.

"You know I don't do well with compliments," she said with an uneasy chuckle.

"Fair enough," he took another sip of his drink and set it down upon the table. "What's your next move? Have you any idea of what to do from here?"

She peeked through her fingers and gave a roguish shrug. "I have something in mind, but it's going to take a lot of work. And travel. It'll probably be a few months before New Vegas can officially be declared a free republic."

"Ace, if we are to work together I need to know what your next steps are going to be. I don't fancy vague answers or being kept in the dark," there was an edge to his voice that she didn't quite appreciate. "So tell me, what do you have in mind?"

She chewed on her bottom lip and threw the King a tempered look. King knew she didn't like being ordered around but she had to understand that it was part of his persona. He was the lynchpin of this weird little tribe and he had to keep up a front at all times. Who he was behind closed doors was not the person he was going to be during deliberations such as this. So she relented, pushing her ego aside and gave her drink another attempt. She brought the glass to her lips but the smell was enough to make her queasy and she set the glass back down in distaste.

"Do you remember Benny?"

"The leader of the Chairmen?"

She nodded simply. "Yep, the one and only."

"Hm. What about him?"

Avery pulled back the portion of her flaxen hair that covered her scar and gestured to it. "He's the one who shot me and gave me this lovely little scar. Seemed he was after the Platinum Chip, which was an item I was assigned to deliver. I was unaware as to what exactly I had been carrying until I arrived in New Vegas and met Mr. House."

He gave her a curious look and waited for her to continue.

"I won't go into heavy detail but, the Platinum Chip is what's going to help us gain New Vegas' freedom. It was why Benny was after it but, as I now know, he was after it for all the wrong reasons. After I killed him I recovered the chip from his body and skulked about his room in The Tops. And you'll never guess what I found."

"What?"

"The bastard had a hidden room with a personalized Securitron in it."

"He had one of House's robots," the King said slowly. "What an odd little man."

"Seriously," Avery ran her fingers through her hair, loosening it from its messy bun. "Well, this AI's name is Yes Man and he was eager to be the catalyst in gaining New Vegas' freedom. He's suggested that I travel to the local tribes and garner their support for an independent Vegas before proceeding."

"A very tactful suggestion on his part. The more support we have the better."

"Precisely. Support from the surrounding tribes would be our best option for succeeding in this endeavor. It would grant us superior man-power, which we'll need if we're going to take on Legion and the NCR."

"What else is required of you to bring this goal to fruition?"

She hummed and placed her index finger against her lips, "I have to download Yes Man's AI into House's mainframe. I would have done that after assassinating House, but the Securitrons were alerted to my presence and chased me out before I had the chance. When things cool down, I'll sneak back in and do that. And once Yes Man is in House's mainframe, he'll have control of all the Securitrons."

"And then...?"

"Then," she said with a hum, "after I've given Yes Man control over the Securitrons and garnered enough support from local tribes, my next stop would be The Fort."

"You're goin' to walk right into Caesar's camp?" He asked incredulously, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. "Ace, that's a death sentence."

"I know, I know. I just..." she trailed off.

She tugged at her bottom lip, remembering an encounter she had, had before leaving for Utah. A man had approached her outside of Gomorrah and requested her presence at The Fort. He had handed her a large, garish medallion with Caesar's likeness on it and said it was a free pass into the camp. She was to have an audience with the notorious Son of Mars. Psh.

She knew the man who had approached her. Vulpes or something like that. He was the man who razed Nipton to the ground last year. She recalled encountering him for the first time at that location, a pyre of tires burning behind him like the ground had split and he had walked straight out of the flames of Hell.

She shook her head and realized that King had been waiting for her to answer.

"As much as I don't want to, yes. Caesar took hold of a bunker there that has some sort of massive weapon House stashed away centuries ago. Caesar would have used this weapon to take Hoover Dam and New Vegas a while back, but they need the Platinum Chip to open the inner workings of the bunker and activate the weapon."

She watched as King's expression changed as it all clicked. There was a tense silence as he stared at the tabletop, deep in thought. After a few moments he raised his gaze to her and placed his hand atop hers once more.

"You have my full support," his tone was amicable as his thumb grazed the side of her palm. "This is a lot to place upon the shoulders of one person, so I'm here to give you whatever help you need. The whole is only as good as the sum of its parts, after all."

Warmth encased her small figure as she sat there, staring at the man adjacent from her, an overwhelming feeling of unity nestled between her ribs. She turned her hand over and reciprocated his kind gesture, squeezing his hand back lightly.

"Do you want to come up…?"

Avery grinned sheepishly at the implication of his request. "I don't have time for that today."

The King mirrored her rueful smile, "Understandable." His eyes wandered to her untouched glass. "Do you not like your drink? I remember whiskey and Nuka Cola bein' your favorite."

"Ah, I'm afraid not. Ever since I've returned from my vacation I haven't had the taste for liquor."

"I was going to ask you to at least stay and finish your drink," he grabbed her rocks glass and pulled it toward himself. "But I'll be nice and finish it for you."

"Such a gentleman," she teased him as she stood. "I'll return with updates as they happen. You will not be left out of the loop, I assure you."

"Try not to assault Pacer on your way out," King smirked as he took a swig of her abandoned cocktail.

"No promises."

She went to leave but he stopped her, placing a hand upon her forearm. His touch was affectionate and light as his fingers burned holes into her skin, the mere touch of him alighting her nerves and setting them on fire. Obsidian met amber as he looked up at her, his expression open and warm.

"Come visit me sometime soon," he whispered, making sure what he said was for her ears only. "Don't be a stranger."

His voice did strange things to her insides.

Without responding she pulled her arm away and gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. She turned on her heel and paced toward the exit. She passed the doorway into the foyer and felt Pacer's dark, lingering presence at her side, his spiteful glare boring holes into the back of her head. Avery avoided giving him any attention because she couldn't promise she'd abstain from violence if he provoked her. And with Pacer, just a scoff was enough to send her barreling into him at full force.

She stepped into the Wasteland sun and headed toward the Atomic Wrangler. By now it was around early noon and the sun was high in the sky, scorching the dead earth with its rays. A light breeze hit her although it didn't do much to help, as the breeze itself was probably ninety degrees.

The heat from the King's touch still lingered and she rubbed her arm idly. Before she left for Utah, she had traipsed through the sheets with King more than a few times. As she had said, she wasn't above giving in to him, and damn it… he was fantastic in the sack, their little liaisons sometimes lasting for hours at a time. But things had changed since she left Zion. The thought of sleeping with another man or woman didn't sit right with her. All she could think about was Joshua and, despite herself, she felt a kind of loyalty to him. Sleeping with the King would almost feel like being unfaithful which was ridiculous in and of itself. She wasn't Joshua's and there was no exclusivity between them. So why did she feel this way?

A sigh escaped her lips as she meandered back to her hotel room.

First things first, she needed a goddamn nap. And some snack cakes.

"Maybe she's moved since the last time you two spoke. Maybe… maybe she's not in New Vegas anymore."

Boone buried his head in his hands as he sat at the very edge of his mattress, his boots digging into the matted carpet of his hotel room. His familiar red beret sat forlornly on the nightstand and he eyed it wearily, remembering the spare beret he had given to Avery last year. She looked good in red, even if she wouldn't admit it.

"And even if they do find her, she's strong. I mean… you've even said she's been able to take out entire groups of Legionary soldiers by herself before. It's not too far-fetched to hope that she could do it this time, too."

Manny's incessant droning was starting to grate on Boone's nerves. But Boone was feeling drained and had no desire, nor the energy, to respond to his companion's rambling.

The deactivated collar was still far across the room, somewhere between his desk and his dresser, the weathered metal glinting in the rays of sunlight that filtered through the blinds. How had he forgotten that slave collars often possessed speakers? How did he lack the foresight to keep his mouth closed about Avery's location? He groaned and rubbed his hands over his eyes.

He was an idiot.

Anyone with half a brain would be able to see that if the Legion ambushes you, leaves a collar on you after deciding not to kill you, that maybe- just maybe the collar held some deeper purpose. Frumentarii were far too smart and tactful to leave a collar on some ex-NCR soldier and expect him to just lead them to a target. The collar had a particular motive and it was so simple… it was so fucking easy to see and he was just too dumb to comprehend the implications.

And why were they after her? Aside from the obvious reasons, of course. The Legion had been sending assassins to ambush her over the past year and none had been successful. It was likely that they were sending the professionals after her now… but it was definitely odd they hadn't done that sooner. And they brought of the Legate or whatever his name was. Boone's eyebrows furrowed. They called her his whore. He couldn't get that out of his mind. Had she somehow aligned herself with this ex-Legionary? But that wouldn't make sense. Avery would never betray her morals. Or betray Boone.

Besides, the Legate was supposed to be dead, wasn't he?

"Are you even listening to me, Boone?"

Boone looked to his friend, "No."

Manny waved his arms in exasperation. "I'm just trying to help you."

"I don't need your help," Boone snapped. "I just need to get to Avery."

"Asshole." Manny muttered as he took a lazy seat against the dresser. "Well, they already know where she is so you heading there won't put her in any more danger."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Nope," Manny said smugly.

Boone brought his finger to his mouth and began to gnaw at his cuticle.

"Hey, man. Don't worry yourself sick," his companion rubbed a hand over his scalp. "She's in New Vegas surrounded by NCR soldiers and strung out gangs. If they ambush her there, she has back up."

"Manny, do you not remember anything about Legion tactics?" Boone shot to his feet in frustration. "If they wanted to track her down, then they probably sent the experts, okay? Frumen-fucking-tarii. Those bastards are masters of stealth. It doesn't matter if she's surrounded by five or ten or twenty people, they will get to her. They'll find a way."

Manny's face fell. "If that's true, then what help do you think you're going to be?"

Boone staggered back a step, as if Manny had struck him across the face. He grit his jaw as he stood and crossed his arms over his chest. Manny was an annoying, self-centered nuisance but… he was right. He couldn't be any help to her. All he'd ever done was drag her down, how was this situation any different? He'd probably just hinder her chances of survival. But he also couldn't sit and waste away in his dark hotel room, just hoping that one day he'd find out what happened to her.

Fuck.

The tension between himself and Manny was palpable. It was hard for him to breathe and he clasped his arms above his head, taking in a deep, shuddering breath.

"Does this courier really mean so much to you?"

Boone's eyes drifted slowly to Manny, his face impassive. "How can you even ask that?"

"Craig…"

"No," he interjected, effectively cutting Manny off. "No, Manny. Avery… she's my partner. We've been through Hell and back. She was the only one to try and… help me."

Manny seemed to sulk at this response, his gaze falling to the floor. "I've tried to help you too, Craig. I always have."

"It's not the same," Boone said, barely above a whisper. "It's just not the same, Manny."

The former Great Khan just shook his head solemnly. "You're a dense, egotistical man. Melodramatic, too."

"Not helping."

Manny pinched the bridge of his nose. "So… what are you going to do?"

Boone shrugged and looked at his friend like that was the single, dumbest question to ever be posed in the history of humanity.

"I'm going to find her."

A/N: Hey all! Thanks for reading another chapter. Fun fact: did you know that in-game, Boone has the second lowest intelligence stat- on par with Lily and just a tad smarter than Rex? Also, that stuff about Securitrons and heat/bio signatures was something I came up with and might not necessarily be true.

Also, my courier has the Black Widow perk so she's had quite a lot of fun in the wastes, if you know what I mean ;) I'd hop on the chance to be with the King too, but I mean... that might just be me.

To CoolCat: You know, I've seen House taken out like that but I've never been able to succeed in that endeavor. I just thought it was a simple solution for this story!

R&R please!