Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of action. I know this story's a bit slow paced, and I thank you for your patience.

Colonel Autumn leaned back in his seat, staring the Legate down like he was too good to be true. If what he was saying was true, Courier Six and the Vault Dweller had just made this far too easy for them. Chasing them through the Legion's territory, or up through Canada, was like chasing a tornado on foot; they moved too fast, left too many of their men dead. Having them in the same spot, well, that was like cornering a bloatfly in a crate and sealing it with C4.

Lanius wasn't as convinced, and he wasn't amused at Autumn's amusement over the situation. This Vault Dweller or Lone Wanderer or whatever, he might be Autumn's prize, but he posed no threat to the Legate. It was the Courier who had tricked him back to the East to deal with traitors that didn't even exist. It was the Courier who chased him and his men back to their own lands. And he didn't do it with some fragile fucking humans in power armor; he brought with him an army of robots. Courier fucking Six was who Legate Lanius was after and he wasn't seeing an easy way to get to him, now that he was safely back in Vegas.

"I don't really see what the problem is," Autumn insisted, leaning over the desk that was "his". It wasn't permanent but for as long as they stayed there, it was his desk. "We have them cornered. We have them together."

"We have them surrounded by walls that would take weeks to tear down and a Securitron army large enough us and anyone behind us out." Lanius put his hands on the desk and leaned over the older man. "We've chased them right into their own fucking safe haven. Don't you get that?"

Autumn didn't. Perhaps the Legion, with their skirts and their shitty football helmets and their chainsaws, were too scared to be of use after all. They refused the use of most modern weaponry. They ignored better armor in favor of showing a little leg. The Legion were a people going backwards fast, and they were too stupid to realize it. "Mr. Lanius, I-"

"Legate." Lanius corrected him. He wasn't a mister. He abhorred such plebian titles.

"Legate, whatever. Perhaps you've forgotten, but my men come equipped with the best armor and weapons that pre-war tech could offer. We come prepared to deal with nuisances like these. Those walls will crumble in minutes and their Securitron "army" is nothing but a platoon of fancy tin cans compared to what the Enclave has to offer. Vegas will be flattened and I won't even bother to say 'I told you so.'" Lanius stood up straight. Autumn couldn't see his face, but that didn't matter-it was all about his body language. "If you feel you aren't up to the task, by all means-go. Turn around, and go home. We'll take it from here."

Lanius ground his teeth together, clenched his fists tightly. Autumn was nothing but a pretentious asshole. It would be glorious to blow his brains out once this was done-that was, if they lived to see the end of it. The Enclave could boast all it wanted. The Legion would see this through to the end-and they alone would stand victorious.

These thoughts satiated him, soothed his anger, and he smirked behind his mask and stalked from the room. The only thing that soothed his rage these days was daydreaming about the image of Colonel Autumn's smug face blown open by a gun, or ground to shreds by a chainsaw. He relished the fact that the day might come soon where he was the one to tear it open.

As he returned to his quarters opposite the building, his thoughts turned to another matter-Courier Six, and what to do with him when Lanius finally had him. He had long since planned that moment. No longer was he satisfied with simply destroying the man. Killing him wouldn't solve the same problems killing Autumn would. No; Lanius had long since decided that death was far too dignified for him. He had a special collar saved for Courier Six. Exactly what would happen to him after that, Lanius hadn't decided-perhaps he would castrate him and make him live as a prostitute, or perhaps he would leave him locked up. His skills would be useful, and parading him around in front of the rest of the slaves would quell many possible uprisings. Seeing your once might hero in chains always did cut a certain blow to moral.

Of course, that was if they even lived. Lanius wasn't going to be idealistic or greedy. He'd long since learned pride was a far deadlier disease than any waste rot. Those who got too far ahead of themselves always learned well enough what happened, and Lanius always made sure to pay careful attention to those who fucked up before him. Caesar had been weak and diseased, his mind ridden with tumors. Vulpes had fled, choosing to live a coward's life rather than accept that Caesar was gone and Lanius was the new lord-and he would die like a coward, trampled under the feet of the Legion or sought out by the Courier. Vulpes no longer had allies. His ties to the Legion were cut. He would remember that one day, and he would realize too late what he had lost.

Satiated at last, the Legate laid his head down. Tomorrow would bring spoils of a battle. A skirmish, a sign to let the Mojave knew who was there-and a warning to Courier Six that his days may very well be numbered.

-0-

Ken rose early and headed to the kitchen. Having a safe, cool place to rest his head once more was great, and though he was still far too sour to admit it, it was nice to be able to lay down with Arcade again. The feel of being held, having that shell around him, it was like being small again and sitting in his father's lap during storms, or laying between his parents late at night when he couldn't sleep. He felt at home.

And it wasn't just Arcade. He had missed his friends and the whole of the Strip while he was gone. He had gone to see plenty of folks before coming back to the Lucky 38, and he was shocked at some of the changes that had happened. Goodsprings was larger, and more spread out. Sunny had settled down with a lovely young man who was ex-NCR, and Doc Mitchell was helping play grandfather to her daughter and her son. Winning the war at the Dam aside, he was never so honored as to find out she'd named her son after him. Primm was doing better business now that the Bison Steve was cleaned out and made inhabitable once more. The Vikki & Vance was still the only casino opened, but travelers still needed a place to stay. The Mojave Express was a booming business as well. Ken had to turn down his old job, though.

Most surprising to him, though, were places like Sloan and Novac. Sloan was once barely surviving with the Deathclaws inhabiting the Quarry. Now it was larger than ever; though it still mostly supplied the NCR, it also supplied the Strip, and concrete from the Quarry kept the Dam in tiptop shape.

And Novac, well…though Novac wasn't that high a priority for the Legion on it's way to take the Dam, it still sustained damage in the battle. Followers of Jason Bright that hadn't made to his supposed promised land had arrived shortly after to help rebuild it, and it was still small, if a bit more booming. Ken was proud of that, too. But he didn't stop to admire the sights of Novac when he passed through-he stopped to see Manny, to check up on him, and to get a few good days' romp out of him. He did feel bad, but Manny said he was single, and so was Ken. Heck, he still was-he wouldn't forgive Arcade that easily for what he'd said and done the night Ken had decided to leave.

The guilt hadn't made the week with Manny any less satisfying, though, and he had come back. Arcade would learn about it in time, when they talked again, if they talked again. He had long since resolved not to keep him in the dark about those sorts of things.

Ken was too lost in his thoughts and memories surrounding what had happened to notice Arcade had gotten up and snuck into the kitchen behind him. The older man snaked his arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder, sending chills through Ken's body. "Morning, beautiful."

"Mmmhmm, morning to you, too." Ken leaned his head back and put his hand on Arcade's wrist. "Hungry?"

"Not really," Arcade closed his eyes, breathed in the other's scent. He'd missed this. "Why, are you?"

"I thought I'd head down to the Tops, get something to eat there." Ken admitted as he pulled away to set the bottle of water he'd been drinking from down. When he turned around, Arcade was giving him a strange look. "I would've left a note this time?" He joked weakly. Arcade shook his head.

"Don't say that," he rubbed his forehead. He didn't need to be reminded of those stressful first days. Ken scoffed and moved back to him, putting his hands on Arcade's hips and giving him a quick kiss.

"You're free to join me." He offered. "I could use the company." Arcade nodded, and Ken kissed him again. "C'mon. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

He pulled away and grabbed Arcade's hand, leading him back to the bedroom. "Let's blow this what?"

"Popsicle stand. I dunno, it's something I heard out in the-" he stopped in the middle of the hall, thinking. "Huh. I dunno where I heard that."

"Probably read it in a book," Arcade joked. He took to leading Ken to the room, now, and once there they didn't dally; Arcade moved to the wardrobe and began rummaging through it and trying to figure out what would be appropriate. "Are we just going to the Tops, or are we going to go out to Freeside or somewhere else?"

"Might go see Usanagi," Ken said. He dumped his duffle bag onto the bed. "So you probably shouldn't wear something like, a field hand's outfit or something." Arcade nodded and grabbed some old, slightly patchy merc wear he'd picked up a while back. He'd gotten it at Mick & Ralph's, and Mick had called it something like a merc troublemaker outfit or something. It still provided light enough protection and wasn't too terrible to look at.

Ken settled on wanderer's gear. It was light, with a patchy hooded jacket and boots. It was a bit stained and had obviously been patched up recently, but it looked nice on him and Arcade admired that he wasn't going too dressed up. He watched as he grabbed an old slave scarf and wrapped it around his head, then reached for sunglasses and stuck them in his pocket. "You won't fucking believe how hard it is to get decent shades in the Capital Wasteland." Ken complained as he reached out again and took Arcade's hand.

Arcade listened to Ken go on about the Capital Wasteland. It sounded like hell, in all honesty, with so many landmarks gone and raiders and completely different super mutants. Most of the ones Arcade had met here were fairly civilized. Even the nightkin sounded like polite company compared to the ones on the east coast. That, of course, was just the beginning of it. He talked on and on about the hells of the place, pausing occasionally to make a joke or small talk with someone he knew on the Strip, and went on like this until they were seated in the Tops Theater.

"Man, it's been so long since I've been in here," Ken mused, looking around. "Is Tommy Torini still running the show here?"

Oh, yeah, he's alive and kicking. Or dancing, I guess." Ken giggled at this and Arcade felt a stroke of pride. Seeing that smile lit up his world brighter than the lights of Vegas. "It's great, we should come see them sometime. The show's nice."

Ken nodded, settling into his seat as he looked around. The place had changed; it seemed more pre-war now, with a few waiters and waitresses milling around. The place also seemed cleaner, too. Swank and the rest of the Chairmen were doing a much better job without Benny. Everyone, it seemed, was doing a much better job now. Maybe he shouldn't have come back. He was terrified to think he might be the one to ruin Vegas' peace by returning to the Strip.

"So, uhm," he tapped the table, waiting for their waitress to return. "How about you? How's…how's everything been since…?"

"Uhm," Arcade shrugged. "Just, you know…same. Same thing day in and day out. Weekly meetings, keeping better ties with the NCR. Working things out day by day."

"Cool, cool, I…I see you guys are keeping things pretty neat here."

"Yeah, we are."

A question that had been digging at the back of Ken's mind suddenly found it's way to his lips. "Sooooo…are you seeing anyone?"

Arcade almost choked on his drink. "I-what? No, I…" Arcade caught himself. Even though he knew what he wanted to say, he couldn't bring himself to say it. He wasn't even sure their relationship had been on hold when Ken left, but he guessed this was confirmation. He wondered if Ken had been seeing people, who he'd been fooling around with. Arcade guessed this changed things but it still seemed strange. It became worse when he realized that he couldn't say any of the things he wanted to. Being honest and saying no, I was waiting for you-that just sounded creepy. And making a joke-no, what do you mean seeing anyone? You mean I could've been getting laid this whole time and no one told me?-the meaning could be completely misconstrued. Whether they'd been together or not, Arcade wasn't sure he was ready to hear if Ken had been with other guys while he was in the East. "No."

"Oh," Ken nodded again, lowering his eyes to his drink. "I…oh. Okay."

Arcade breathed in, then reached over and took Ken's hand. "Look. I just…I didn't really have time to bother with any of that. And no one…god, no, it sounds wrong but no one was right. You know? I just. I didn't see a reason to." Ken looked away and didn't respond. Arcade felt like he'd ruined the good mood between the two of them, but it was the truth, at least partially. Even if Ken had had flings, Arcade hadn't, because he didn't have the time. He didn't have the free hours to waste fooling around with other guys. Maybe waiting for Ken to return sounded creepy and obsessive, but he had been-of course, that was in between helping run the Mojave and trying aid the Followers. They were still a family to him, regardless of where he resided now. That much, he felt, he owed back, especially after all they'd done for him.

The mood lingered and they ate in silence, Ken barely looking up from his plate and Arcade playing with his food. There were many questions he wanted to ask Ken but he couldn't muster the courage to break the awkward silence between them. It wasn't until after they were done eating and had left that Ken broke his stoic character, grabbed Arcade's hand and began dragging him along towards the entrance to Freeside.

"Come on," he said, slowing down to a pace that Arcade could keep up with.

"Where are we going?"

Ken shrugged. "Out. I wanna go see some things. I wanna check up on some people."

"Oh. I…okay. Uh…are we going somewhere in particular?" Ken shook his head.

"Just going to walk around a little bit. Maybe go visit Usanagi, like I said. Go see some old friends who live near here." Arcade smiled a bit to himself. At least Ken wasn't taking off on his own to parts unknown, and they were no longer caught up in an awkward silence.