This story is hard to write for me. I'm sorry if I can't keep a regular quality throughout the entire thing. I just never really liked Benny, ya know? I wanted to get another one out tonight because I haven't updated in a few days (obviously not including today) but really all I want to do instead is go cuddle the fuck out of my boyfriend.

People, people, this is my second update for today. Check back to the last chapter if this is the first one you're reading for today, you may have missed one!

'Shoot the Water' - Austra

The guards that protected Benny's room were called downstairs the moment she had stepped in the door. Annie's plan had been thrown instantly into action, Swank being completely comfortable with her seemingly ingenious plan. He had given her a pat on the ass for good luck, telling her to steal the show the best she could. All she managed to do, though, was shiver, not entirely comfortable with the idea of returning to him after. If he still wanted to sleep with her after she murdered his boss, then he had a real problem.

To every other patron at the Tops, she was just a Chairmen groupie. First she had Swank, now she was after Benny. It was completely normal in the day-to-day routine; women were passed around like a peace pipe.

No one bothered her as she made her way to Benny's suite, assuming only the best about the attractive young woman. She was there to tend to the big boss's needs… like any other woman would. She was there to play nice.

But not really.

Annie knocked on the door, pressing her chest out and holding her chin high. The sultry smile she had practised for hours in the bedroom mirror made its début appearance when the door swung open.

"Hello," he greeted, ushering her in. He must not have recognised her, due to the many layers of foundation and eye shadow she had laid on hours earlier. It wasn't over the top, just on the heavy side of normal; Boone not even being able to match the voice to the face when he returned home later that evening. "My buddy says that you're here for me, but to be completely true with ya doll I'm not really up for the whole kit tonight, dig?"

"Surely there must be something I can do for you?" Her eyes found his face for the first time in what had seemed like eternity. Benny was just as cold as she remembered him… icy blue eyes and a strong jaw, hair gelled back in a handsome quiff. An attractive man, that was, if he wasn't such a snake.

His eyes trailed over her face, not registering who she was a second time. A rookie mistake; apprehended mentally by a pretty woman in a dress. His second in charge made the same error, giving Annie a slight kick out of her abilities. What was it about men in suits being the easiest to bend?

"Have a few drinks with me, first." He offered a stool, letting her sit down gracefully before sliding her a glass of vodka. Only the finest for the man of the hour, she thought, enraged. Being in the same room as her attempted killer made her blood boil – and what made it worse was that he didn't even remember her face. "What's your name, kitty cat?" He placed his hand on her thigh.

She kept her cool, a smile swarming to her face.

"They call me Anna."

Still nothing. The grin on his face made her bite her tongue, a string of curses trying to claw it's way out of her throat but instead fading out into a collective sigh. She had gone so long looking for this man, imagining his face when he first saw her again... but this, this was not something to proud of. She must not have made the impact she thought she had.

The man noticed this, squeezing her thigh sympathetically.

"You don't sound too happy to be here, dolly."

Her eyes lit suddenly and she laughed at him, taking his hand from her knee and kissing the knuckles quietly. If Plan A failed so suddenly, there was always Plan B to fall back on. And Plan B was always the same - play on a man's natural desire. It worked nine times out of ten, only really failing with Boone but that was understandable. The man was a rock, but Benny was a boy - fleshy and flushing at any move she made.

"You're a smart man, Benny. That's why I'm here." Her lips brushed the tough skin of his fingers, tongue darting out to take the tip of his forefinger into her mouth. Running her teeth softly along his nail, the man watched her with fiery eyes – not attempting to stop her in any way, his ego slightly stroked by her smooth words. "My name's Anna. Surely you remember me."

His eyes dragged over her face in further attempt to pull her from his buried memories. Nothing came up, like an empty row on a slot machine. There was no winning bells and no drop of cash. The girl was the moment before the next pull of the lever.

"I'd remember a broad like you." He felt the tip of her shoe brush the inside of his leg, sending his tongue to swipe his own bottom lip. She grinned, a certain cog shuddering to life in his brain. Ideas began to sprout from his mind, blooming into ugly flowers of remembrance and guilt. "What in the goddamn…"

The gap in her teeth nearly made him jump out of his skin. It was her.

Annie watched in pleasure as the blood drained from his face. There was nothing like a man that knew he was caught, especially a fully grown one. Even though she was glowing, Benny was quaking in his polished leather shoes. The last time he had seen that unsaintly snarl was when he had shoved a gun in her face.

Slipping off the stool and standing in front of him, she rested her palms on his shoulders and leant in closely, brushing her nose with his.

"Oh, I'm no broad, honey." She kissed him chastely on the mouth, his bottom lip beginning to tremble ever so slightly to compete with the rush of thoughts in his head. Hiking her dress, her hands reached into her garter to take out her knife, before laying it to rest on the bar. Her fingers returned to his lap, squeezing the soft skin of his inner thighs. "But you should have emptied your barrel, asshole."

Build his trust, and then take it away. That's how it went. Reaching into his jacket, she took his gun off holster and placed it beside her knife, tapping the table to get him to acknowledge this. Annie licked her lips to remember the taste of the man - to savour the experience that little bit more... she pulled him to his feet by the neck of his tie.

If Benny weren't rendered speechless, he would have taken the most dangerously sexy broad he had ever seen to bed. His heart was actually racing at the thought of a woman who could hold herself against him. Dolls like that were few and far between… It really was a pity he had tried to kill her.

"Swank… that dirty fink." They were the only words he could burst through his grit teeth.

"Swank doesn't know shit." Annie bit back, maddened that she was the last one he thought about. "Don't give him all the credit, Benny. I did this myself." They were chest to chest, nestled between two bar stools in a stalemate. Annie didn't want to kill him just yet, and Benny didn't exactly know what to do with his hands.

For once in his life Benny was struck useless for what to say. The man he had prided himself for being was now cowering in front of an undead broad, like a little boy facing the wrath of his mother. He'd been caught, a rare occasion, in his own apartment with his pants down. Now, he couldn't help being swept up by a woman like her – after all, he was only human. But her grip on his tie was so tight that he could feel the hatred radiating from her.

Realising his lack of brain function would probably get him killed, he pulled away from her grasp. Straightening his tie, he grinned suavely down at her. "Let's keep this smooth, baby, real smooth." He seemed to have his head in check for the first time in a while, savouring the look on the girl's face when she realised he wasn't exactly going to lie down and accept defeat.

Women like her worked on a pride basis – belittle the man into thinking he was not good enough for her. He had to give her credit; any other situation and her façade would have worked... But his life and his dynasty were at risk, and there was no way he was going to walk away from it like a coward.

"Sit down and drink with me, baby?" He offered Annie her seat back, her jaw tensing at her loss in battle. The war, however, was still raging – static dancing between them with cracks and pops. She sat, although begrudgingly.

"You drink first." She spoke as he slipped gracefully down in front of her. The weapons remained abandoned on the counter. With a delighted smirk, he picked up his glass and toasted to her. He'd gotten her worried.

"I gotta ask," he took a handsome sip of his drink, eyeing Annie over the rim of the glass "how is it that you're still living?" She hated him even more now that he had outsmarted her… again.

"We'll call it luck and leave it at that."

"With luck like that you should look into gambling, baby doll." The hair on her neck rose. Was he seriously trying to be civil? Her eyes sprung to her knife, heart falling when she realised there was no way in hell she could grab it without him retaliating instantly. She was stuck. Her plan had failed already. "And once you were vertical… how'd you track me down?"

She smiled, regardless of the situation.

"I'm very persistent."

"That's one word for it." He took another drink, pushing her tumbler closer to her. She haughtily snatched it up, crossing one leg over the other to seem comfortable. She wasn't going to let him see how wound up she was already. "I guess that's enough scratching around first base… So tell me baby, which ways the wind gonna blow?"

"Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you." She asked, her brows rose in question as she spun the liquid in her glass with a cock of her wrist. His cockiness was the cherry on top of a bad night.

"You've got a crazy drop on me, baby, that's for sure. If killing's what you came to do, now's the time for it." He leant back, hands in his lap like a very calm gentleman "But baby – you're disappointing me. All the trouble you went through to arrange this shin-dig? Must be something else you want from me."

"There's nothing more I want from you other than the satisfaction of hearing you beg for your life." She hissed, curling her hands around the edge of the bar.

"Well," Benny straightened his tie, placing his unfinished drink on the table. He stood to full height over Annie: giving her a chance to finally snatch her knife "this is endsville, baby – may the best man win."

Holding up his finger to make her wait, he removed his jacket and folded it nicely, leaving it on his stool. He untucked a knife from his ankle, holding it to his fighting stance. "Might even the odds a little for you, hey kitty cat?"

The two stood, circling each other like over-excited fiends, but still not willing to make the first strike in fear of the other being better prepared. His eyes were wild like a tribal's, thrilling Annie into an old memory of a knife fight she had been in before. The only thing she learned from that was that both parties went home wronged.

Jumping back from what could have been a deep stab to the gut, Annie swung her blade and drew a ribbon of red down the side of his face. The slice must have felt like a tickle, because he didn't even flinch – grabbing her arm and pulling her into him for another deep stab in the stomach.

This time the knife hit its mark, pushing through layers of muscle and fat to get stuck at the hilt. Annie let out a gasp of pain as she bit down on his shoulder; resting her head there as he went to pull himself out. She took the chance to wrap her arm around his waist, pulling the knife back in but opening up his back to her own blade.

An estimation of sorts helped her strike her knife through two rungs of his spine, her own torso shaking from the pain that burnt through nerves like an out-of-control wildfire. His hand dropped from the stiletto, his strangled cry gurgled into her neck. She twisted the switch blade with all her might, severing whatever cords she could in the short amount of time she had.

As he huffed and puffed in her ear, she stabbed him as many times as she could; the knife drifting through the skin like butter. The blood on her hands was slipping the knife, splitting her palms wide once again. The pain was nothing compared to the twitching knife pressed into her belly with every thrust made.

She could survive a stomach wound, he couldn't function without legs – that was her reasoning as he collapsed on her. Using the little strength she had, Annie pushed the suffering man off of her. Her eyes caught the handle of his knife wobbling in her gut, tears springing uselessly from her ducts to her cheeks in complete shock.

Benny fell backwards on the blade, the sounds coming from his throat making Annie's whole body cringe. The feeling she felt was not triumph, but absolute horror. The courier had dreamed of that moment since she had first awoke in Goodsprings, but now that it was there it was nothing like she had hoped for.

Annie left the knife in, dropping to her knees to hobble to the man. He stared up at her, eyes filled with wounded pride and defeat. The look gave her very little satisfaction, feeling like she had paid the ultimate sacrifice for a very stupid idea.

Leaning over the man, she touched his cheek, shaking her head.

"I'm actually sorry for this." She told him, shifting to take pressure off the knife in her stomach. Taking it out would have just given more places for the blood to go - keeping it in plugged the hole. "I'll applaud you for trying, though."

Grabbing his nose with one hand, Annie covered his mouth with the other. He would have fought against her but he had lost far too much blood to even care about fighting back. His breaths sputtered through the spare gaps in her fingers, oxygen running low enough to start his body panicking.

Annie watched the life fall from his eyes, not knowing what exactly had killed him but rejoicing regardless. She was alive and he was not. That's what she had come to do, and that was how it had gone down.

Standing up shakily, her body was running on pure adrenalin. She tugged on Benny's jacket to hide the small patch of blood seeping through the once lovely dress, tucking the gun in the deep pockets as a memory. With whatever precarious strength she had left, Annie stumbled out of there.

Leaning haphazardly against a securitron that was guarding the Strip gates from Freeside, Annie wobbled on her feet. The picture of the gruff officer was flickering violently; although not rigged hurt her anymore due to House's sharp trust.

"Victor!" She banged on the screen, not caring if she got vaporised. The pain would have been a lot less than whatever she was feeling at that moment. "Victor, will you please tell Boone that I've gone to the Mormon fort for the night!"

The face remained a cop, the robot whirring tiredly under the harsh lights.

"Move along please." The twitch made her whole body cringe, aching to take the knife out but couldn't if a certain robot was going to be slow about it.

"Just tell Boone I'm in Freeside, will you?" She thumped on the plastic screen guard. Her bloody hand slapped to her face in defeat, dragging her cheeks with a wet grip. "Fuck this…" She sunk a little, her legs beginning to give out. Her body had begun to come down from the adrenalin rush, the high stakes of the situation finally settling in. There was a good chance that she was going to die, and she wasn't quite ready to accept that. But by god, her legs would not answer her prayers.

A couple of Freeside kings had been drawn the commotion, recognising her from the table of the King himself. One had crouched to her level, his striped shirt revealing a rusty dogtag with PACER crudely scratched into it. The smoke in his mouth didn't bother his eyes, only making him look more menacing under the bright white LEDs.

"If you take me to the Mormon fort, I'll give you 50 caps…" She breathed, throwing her head back against the robot's leg. Her chest was shaking from the shock of the wound, fingers twitching like an allergic reaction.

The man watched her, the younger king shifting awkwardly in his spot. "100 caps… 200?" Her eyes grew wide at the night sky, the crouching man not moving at all. "300? 300 caps each! Please!" Tears curled down her face, streaking through the blood left by her fingers not long ago. "Please, oh man, please." She murmured to no one in particular.

"Boss…" The smaller king started, Pacer's eyes flickering to the knife in her stomach. He offered her a drag of his stick, Annie's chest sagging as she nodded her head softly. Placing the filter in her mouth, he watched her suck in as much smoke as she could. The nicotine seemed to calm her down.

His eyes shone for the broad, deciding against his original instincts to leave her there. If a woman could still manage to take a drag while bleeding out on a securitron, she deserved to be saved. Pacer stood, flicking the butt away with his forefinger and thumb. The red of the cherry bounced on the broken pavement, her eyes following it slowly before finally closing for the last time that night.

Hoisting Annie under the arm of their dirty jackets, the men led her to the Followers.