"There is nothing worse than a bum with low hygiene," muttered an unfamiliar voice.

Six opened his eyes to being temporarily blinded by sunlight, holding a hand over his eyes. Standing up right before him was a very sleek and well dressed man. He looked down at Six and Harley with a narrow, judgmental gaze that he only saw in soldiers.

His head began to ache and throb as he attempted to sit up, grunting. He felt Harley roll off his abdomen; a part of him was confused as to what else happened the night before until he saw they were both still perfectly clothed.

"Can I help you?" Six groggily asked.

The man leaned down to eye level, a sliver of a smirk ever so lightly etched upon his lips, "I came bearing a message to you, Courier. It is hard to not mistake you as the enemy at the first glance."

Harley stirred under Six's arm, her eyes fluttering open at the quiet voice of the man. She stretched her limbs, squinting her eyes until she noticed the man before them. Almost as if on instinct, she sat up and halfway slipped off her trench coat with a wide smile.

"Cute" Six heard her whisper.

They spent a good minute just staring at each other, and with every passing second he found this unyielding eye contact to irritate him more and more. She bit on her lip a little bit as a tease, winking at the man. He only smirked in response.

"Anyway," Six spoke up to try and break the eye contact, standing up to make himself a barrier, "Is there a reason why you're bothering us, sir?"

Harley smacked him in the calf, "Hush it! He's not hurting anyone."

Six rolled his eyes, ignoring this comment. The man picked himself up as well, dusting off any invisible dirt that might have gathered on his nice suit. Still, he didn't seem phased by this new unwanted atmosphere that circled between the two men; if anything he seemed amused.

He held out his hand, showing a small ring with the outline of a bull inside it. Six picked it up from his hands, his eyes slowly widening with surprise. He knew well of this symbol and the people who bore it; a feeling of anger and fear ran through him at the thought of having him so close to Harley.

"Vulpes Inculta," he breathed, his eyes lifting to the man in front of him.

He sneered at the sound of his name, "Any crimes you may have perpetrated against the Legion are hereby forgiven, Courier. Caesar will not extend this mercy a second time. My Lord requires your presence at his camp, at Fortification Hill. His Mark will guarantee your safe-conduct through our lands."

Six hesitated for a moment to lick his lips and plan out his next few words. "Alright," he answered after a moment, "And what happens if we don't choose to show up to your little banter?"

"I would advise you to show yourself at our camps. It has come to Caesar's notice that we have come into contact with something you are after. We hear you are on a quest for vengeance, am I correct?" He arched a brow.

"What's he talking about?" Harley asked. He looked over his shoulder to see her looking uncertain, just as afraid as he felt a moment ago.

Vulpes tipped his hat, giving Harley and him one last glance, "The eyes of the mighty Caesar are upon you both."

Harley sighed with longing as she watched him walk off, a cool step in his stride. Six grunted at this, mumbling swear words to himself as he picked himself off the ground, dusting off any dirt that may have landed on his armor.

He looked down to a very confused Harley, "Well? You heard the guy, we have a meeting with Caesar."

Harley arched a thin brow, "And is that someone whom is of some sort of importance?"

"Unfortunately," he sighed, helping her up.

At the direction of Vulpes, Six and Harley steadily made their way to the land just below Caesar's camp at Cottonwood Cove. Six found it irritatingly inconvenient that Caesar had made the decision to build his camp right on top of the bunker at Fortification Hill. No doubt this was deliberate Six thought as his boots crunched on the dusty red ground beneath his feet. Harley noted his irritated expression as he looked over his shoulder.

"What's up your ass?" She made a face.

Six rolled his eyes, "I'm not a fan of how Inculta just stared you up and down like a piece of meat. Legion men don't care when it comes to unwanted attention-"

He cut off by the sound of Harley scoffing, "Please, that was far from unwanted. Did you see the guy? A bit short for my taste, but I'm not going to nit pick. Other than that he was a cutie. Best part? He was so checking me out."

Six only grew more irritated by this, though he couldn't really explain why. He was sure it was somewhere between the sake of Harley's safety and the smug expression on Vulpes' face.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" He heard Harley tease. He felt the tips of ears begin to burn, though he blew it off like nothing.

This had only added to Six's pre existing annoyance. But something about her laughter brought back wonderful childhood memories that he had buried deep in his mind. The bittersweet feeling of nostalgia washed over him and soon he was right as rain.

"Darlin', please," he scoffed in return, his lips curling into a playful smile, "I'm trying to save you from a guy who'd probably crucify you for his own enjoyment."

Harley stopped mid-step, her expression remained blank as she processed this thought. "So, what you're telling me is," she took a long breath, "He likes it kinky."

"That's one way to look at it," they heard Kinzie remark from above.

Harley had jumped at the sudden sound of her former lover's voice, whereas Six was more welcoming to it. He nodded his head in satisfaction toward Harley, smirking, "At least someone gets it."

Harley ignored this, waving a hand in the sky. She placed both hands on her waist, looking up to the sky. "Hey there beautiful, nice to finally show up. Funny thing, I managed to lost get my head blown off just yesterday..."

"Please, I've only been gone for about fifteen minutes. How much could I have missed? And also, don't even think about buttering me up. Especially when I just caught you talking about some other guy with a crucifixion kink!"

Harley's shoulders slumped forward. Shit, she swore. Six had to suppress a chuckle.

"As I was going to say, I came to drop by and tell you two that there's an incredibly powerful signal not too far from here, as you get closer there is no doubt that the connection between us will get rather tenuous as you approach it. The equipment there must be incredible!"

Harley was quick to cut her off, pushing Six, "Sorry Kinzie, I love you but we have places to be!"

There was no reply from Kinzie, hopefully it was safe to say she was gone. She was not interested in the slightest to hear Kinzie go off on one of her "nerdy moments", as she dubbed them. Harley could sigh in peace without having to hear Kinzie rant on technology.

"Hard to believe you two didn't last," Six jokes, which earned him a quick punch in the arm. This only made him laugh harder in return.

The laughter did, eventually, die down and the silence between them began to return. Six couldn't help but toss the young president a few glances, letting out fake coughing noises to fill the silence.

Abruptly, she stopped and immediately spun to his direction. "Can we talk?" She asked. Her expression suddenly looked worried or concerned, something he wasn't very acquainted with when it came to Harley. "I feel like you're hiding something," she admitted.

Six cursed himself for not seeing this coming sooner, taking a deep breath to keep himself calm and steady. He turned to her. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

She crossed her arms. "We've been traveling together for a little over a week now and it seems people keep referring to you about some sort of incident. I don't know what happened, but the more and more I think about it the more and more worried I become." She stretched out one arm to move some of his hair out of his face, revealing the scar that was left. "Does it have something to do with this?" She asked.

He gently, but firmly grabbed her hand and moved it away from his head. His expression remained grave, uncaring. Something about her touch, though, made his heart tug violently. He threw her hand away, shaking his head so his hair would cover it back up.

They descended down a steep hill, through the small retreat Cottonwood Cove, toward the mouth of the river. Six silently produced his Mark of Caesar to the Cursor Lucullus, who proceeded to give the duo an equally silent nod to get on his small sized boat as he rowed them up the winding river.

Upon reaching the camp on the opposite bank they were greeted by the distinct sound of metal on stone with characteristics of a sword being grinded, multiple ones on the matter. The collective noise drove Harley crazy. She had to wonder if these guys ever slept. Six placed a hand on Harley's shoulder for reassurance, "You nervous?"

Harley plastered a fake, cheesy grin on her face, "You know it."

"Just keep cool and everything will go smoothly," he instructed her. Despite this, Harley couldn't help feel like she had done something wrong or strange in the presence of these men. Or simply they had not seen very many women. Harley laughed at this thought.

"Something funny?" Six asked, looking over his shoulder to glance at the shorter girl.

"It's just that I don't think these men have had any company of the opposite sex for a loooong time," she laughed. To one soldier, she eased a piece of her coat off her shoulder and wriggled her eyebrows suggestively, before turning into a fit of giggles and catching up to Six.

As Harley and Six went to enter the biggest tent, no doubt Caesar's, Harley found her way quickly barred right after Six had gained entrance. "Hey, the fu-What gives?" She began to raise her voice, staring the Legionary in the face, or well, his masked face.

Six turned back to her, sighing, "Hang tight, darlin'. This shouldn't take long."

A moment after Six had left her with that guard, who had his arms crossed and his eyes locked on her, he finally spoke: "Caesar expressed his wish that he only desired to speak with the courier, an uncultured woman like you is not but an insult to his glory."

Harley gave a small smile, eye twitching. "Is that so? More than likely he has had one too many men stuffed in his ass to know what a real woman is. In any case, you better hope we don't cross paths and it's just you, buddy."

Six reached Caesar's throne, the older man was engaged in deep conversation with his Vexillarius leader, Vulpes. The two men exchanged hard glances toward one another, for a second Vulpes' eyes roved over the room to double check for Harley's presence (which partially made Six thankful she was stopped outside the tent).

He looked back to Caesar whom seemed to have finally noticed him; his eyes lowered for a split second to glance down at the Legion's master's robotic hand. For a moment seeing the mechanical arm, Six was reminded of his scar. He brushed this off as he tended to do, of course.

"So you're the Courier that's been stirring these lands," Caesar greeted him, a cordial smile stretched his face. This was not the man Six had always imagined; he was but a shell of the monster he had always envisioned.

"To track the man who shot you down and travel across the Mojave? You're determined, and when you're determined you get results," he nodded his head proudly, not unlike a father filled with pride for his rising pupil of a son.

"Thank you, sir," Six coughed, clearing his voice, "Assuming I'm here for something a little more than to pick up my package and the chairman, I really have no interest-" He was clearly cut off by Caesar risen hand, silencing himself at once.

"But that is why I summoned you here, is it not? For those two things. Now, I'm a man of my word and from what I hear you are as well. I am ready to extend these two gifts to you as long as you are ready to extend a gift back. The real question is are you ready to begin?"

Six narrowed his eyes slightly toward Caesar, whom smirked. He knew what he was doing and he was playing his cards well. He turned his head to the right, a similar expression lightening his features as he saw Benny tied, on his knees, and held a look of profound fear.

Without resuming the eye contact with the other man, he responded, "Allow me to finish my business with Benny and we may be able to work something out."

He felt a hand firmly curl over and grip his shoulder, "Patience, my son, his time is soon to come."

Six turned his head back only far enough to peer at Caesar out of the corner of his eye, narrowing it dangerously close. He rolled his shoulders in a shrugging fashion, shaking off the unwanted contact. "What sort of assistance could I be of you?" He asked. His tone was more skeptical than cordial now.

Caesar turned to face his throne, the two men looking to a few of the best soldiers the Legion had to offer, "The time for my men to assault the dam and take over the west is quickly approaching. Before we take any actions, I want Mr. House taken care of once and for all- By you, of course."

"And how do you plan I do that?" Six scoffed.

Caesar gently reached for his the other's wrist, bringing up his hand and placing what felt like a thick coin inside. Six stared hard into the Caesar's eyes, curling his fingers around the object and nodding. "Thank you," he whispered. A part of him was in disbelief he was thanking the cruelest, most heartless man in the Mojave. The scourge of the east.

Caesar was the one to break the eye contact from the Courier. He glanced to the ground, recoiling both arms and taking a deep, steady breath: "At the far end of this camp is a weathering station. Underneath it is an underground bunker that I need you to destroy, which leads to another reason why I return this to you. It holds much power, enough to destroy House's backbone."

Six turned his back, not speaking a word of response. Caesar simply took this as his way of accepting.

He came out to a rather tense looking Legionary and an overly satisfied looking Harley. Six was half tempted to ask what just happened, but decided it was best left alone.

"Well, I got what I was looking for," Six informed her with a wolfish grin, "I just need to do one small thing first, before we leave."

Harley crossed her arms at this, her look of satisfaction turning sour. "What about the guy dressed like a chessboard?"

"I'll decide what to do with him once we get this done, darlin'. Right now his significance is in the negatives now that the chip is back in our hands. Just... Let's try to not repeat ourselves, alright?"

"Excuse me?!" Harley spluttered, before throwing her hands up in accusation, "Okay, yeah, the one time I try to go out of my way and be nice! Fuck..." She shook her head, dropping her arms. "I'll meet you at the boat.'

"But-" Six began until Harley practically sliced him in half with her gaze.

"At the boat." She growled.

"Whatever you say, darlin'" he shook his head, watching Harley storm off. He couldn't help but mutter in addition, "Women..."

He fiddled with the Chip through his fingers as he made his way toward the old weathering station. He kept one hand secured on his old rifle, eyeing the Legionnaires with just as much suspicion as they had for him. They were tolerable, to say the least, once he was inside. He has accessed the door to the underground bunker, recognizing the signature number, 38, carved into the steel doors.

The inside reminded him of a Pre-War factory with a big exception of his surroundings looking cleaner. Much cleaner, in fact. He found a large screen with a picture of an incredibly handsome man across it. He wondered if this was House's version of surveillance cameras before hearing a long sigh, "How disappointing it is for us to meet face-to-face like this."

"With all due respect sir, this is far from face-to-face," Six retorted, "I had other business that needed attending."

House sighed, "Very well, straight to the point then. Deep in this bunker lies a software upgrade that will greatly enhance the capabilities of the Securitrons on the Strip. And the 'almighty Caesar' had no idea of the true capabilities of this base."

Six had to hand it to him, this man always seemed to be two steps ahead. He couldn't help but smirk at this man's intelligence, glancing away. A piece of him wished Harley tugged along to see how she would react. "I'll get the software upgrade for you," Six replied slowly, "... Maybe."

"I eagerly await the results." House's response held a monotone sound that made him wonder what went behind the screen. If he was afraid that the bunker would be blown to smithereens, anxious to have the Courier under his wing. Assuming House could feel, of course.

What Mr. House had conveniently forgotten to mention, as Six saw as he ventured deeper inside the bunker, was the still active Securitrons dotted around the complex. Some went down with a hitch, but some fought against him.

"Oh thanks asshole…" Six muttered as he systematically gunned them down as they exploded with a large static pop. As easy as these things mostly were, Six was about as much of a fan of burns from concentrated high energy fire as the next guy. That is to say, not much at all.

He managed to take a few hits, two in his arm and once in the chest. He persisted, though, as many of the turrets and other bits of security seemed to almost fall apart at the seams. The final room, however, was almost enough to blow him up and leave nothing but his shoes. He was outnumbered severely. By the time he did manage to pull through, he was left with less than half the ammo he started with. He cursed at himself for this, telling himself to remember to buy some more next time he saw Mick.

He slid the chip inside a slot and dragged what remained of him back through the halls. He didn't bother to holster his rifle as let it drag behind it on the metallic ground. His posture had slumped some, by the time he got back to the old, wide screen of House. "The deed is done," Six coughed, his accent a blur.

"Excellent. When you are done with... What has already occupied you, do come pay a visit at the Lucky 38. I'm sure our work together is far from being finished," House chimed.

Something about his tone didn't seem authentic to Six. As if the gleeful tone was forced. Either way, he did feel obligated to finish the delivery at last. "Maybe," he answered once more, though by then the picture had changed to the bleak words: Connection Lost…