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asthora · 6 years

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The Last Dance, Pt. 2

The Courier brings Benny back to Vegas. He can’t tell if it’s a mistake or if she’s just playing more games. Part 2 to my Benny x Courier saga. Read part one here.

The Courier is playing tricks on him.

She’s got a heart blacker than an abandoned vault. She never planned on letting him walk free, just thought it would be fun and games to see him skip off into the sunset only to reel him back in, her executioner’s axe sharpened.

“This isn’t what you think,” she tells him. “Believe it or not.”

Yeah, like he’s going to let her fool him again.

“You can’t pull the wool over my eyes anymore, baby. You’re here to kill me.”

Benny had been gone for almost two weeks, hadn’t even gotten the chance to leave the Mojave, when the Courier’s little NCR sniper appeared out of goddamn nowhere. Benny was just enjoying himself a smoke at the 188 when the beret grabbed his arm, turned him in the direction of New Vegas, and with a gruff let’s go, led him to his final resting place.

“Did I not scram fast enough, pussycat? Was I too slow? A man’s got to take his time when he’s deciding the fate of his future.”

“No, I’m glad you didn’t leave the Mojave. Made you easy to find.”

Oh, of course. Her hounds only run so far from the horses. If he had skedaddled sooner, right now he could be enjoying himself a hooker in New Reno or nursing himself a whiskey neat in some slummy bar.

“Well I’m glad I could convenience you, baby.”

“Yeah, yeah. You aim to please. I’ve heard it all before, Benny. Now it’s time for you to shut up and let me do the talking.”

Benny zips his lips and throws away the key. She rolls her eyes. The Courier leans back, her chair balancing on two legs, with her feet propped up on a card table. Her scarred hands rest on her toned stomach. Outside the tent, Benny can hear the sounds of the Mormon Fort -- babies crying, some grunts, coughing, the final scream of a dying junkie. He winces. Now he remembers why he made it a rule to never set foot in this place. Benny doesn’t like to be reminded of mortality.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she says. “I promise.”

“Really?”

“Really. Cross my heart and hope to fucking die.”

He smirks. “Well, now I’m convinced.”

News flash, he isn’t. He’s got a right to be cautious of this broad but there’s something about this whole situation that makes him wonder if she’s telling the truth.

“If I decided that killing you was what I wanted to do, do you think you’d be alive right now? Do you think I would waste any more of my time looking at your face?”

“Ouch, baby, you know my face is the finest thing for miles.”

So she isn’t planning to kill him, there’s a reason the Courier dragged him back kicking and screaming to New Vegas. But why aren’t they partying it up in the Lucky 38’s revolting cocktail lounge? He’s standing in front of the Mojave’s most powerful woman, yet she isn’t ruling from her castle. Why would a queen stalk in the slums?

C’mon, think like a big-leaguer Benny-boy.

Perhaps it’s because the Mormon Fort is discreet. Maybe, what she has to say doesn’t need the eyes and ears of certain people. In this neck of the woods, those certain people can only be the Vegas elite. The Families. Freeside ain’t Vegas proper so the Families don’t tend to pay attention to the slums, a mistake he didn’t make. Instead their feelers extend from New Vegas, skip over Freeside, and tumble out in the desert, gently probing the uncivilized world for anything that might benefit their empires. If she wants to be invisible this is the perfect place to do it. Not only is it free of Family spies, she’s got some aces protection. The Courier just doesn’t stop making friends. On his way in he spotted a few leather clad Kings milling about the perimeter and he swears he saw a Boomer vault suit sitting pretty as you please at the front gate.

But there are bigger questions to be asking here, like why is the Courier so desperate to get away from the Families? What does she want to keep hidden? And most importantly, if she doesn’t plan to kill him, why is he here?

Or maybe he’s got it all wrong. Maybe he’s thinking about this too closely. Nah, no way. He and the courier are the same in many ways. She wouldn’t say it but he ain’t afraid to admit that they are a couple of crafty scheming fucks.

“You’re hard to get rid of, Benny. Did you know that?” She asks, picking at her bleeding cuticles. She’s got hands like a desert scaver.

“A man once told me that before I stuck a knife in his neck.”

The Courier laughs, a flat dry laugh that makes his stomach lurch. She looks at him and cracks a smile.

“Swank told me about that. Your old chief, Bingo. He wanted to keep wandering but you said no sir. You told him the future was behind a gate, not out there,” she points to the desert. “So you killed him and brought your people to a new eden.”

“We could sit here recalling history, baby but that won’t lead us to anywhere that we don’t already know.” He says, his voice tight.

“I disagree,” the Courier slams her chair into the dirt and leans forward. “Get on your knees.”

Benny’s jaw tightens. Oh how he’d love to watch her bleed like he did with Bingo. But his hands are tied, literally, and he’s at the mercy of this woman perhaps for the rest of his short life. Benny gets on his knees.

“Happy?”

“I just want to remind you that we aren’t equals. I’m about to propose something to you that might send your ego flying to the stars, so I gotta make sure all my bases are checked.”

A proposal? What kind of proposal? What can this bitch offer him that she hasn’t already? His freedom was the only thing he could ask for, his life. The only thing left to dangle in front of him is...no. No fucking way. Vegas is all that’s left, the only thing he wants more than life but, the Courier is far from a fool. She wouldn’t hand over her newly won town for all the caps in the wasteland, so what is this?

“What I’m about to say stays in this tent. It doesn’t leave your mouth. I don’t want you even thinking about it. Do you understand?”

“I’m understanding that you have something real secret that you shouldn’t be saying. I’ll keep it under wraps, pussycat. Now spill the beans.” He says.

The Courier’s blue eyes close, then open, then close, and finally open again. She looks pained, like whatever she’s about to say, she doesn’t want to say it.

“We’re going to make a deal. I’m going to let you come back to Vegas and take up the mantle of head of the Chairman. In return, you’re going to be my little lapdog.”

Is he hearing her right? Did she really just offer him a doorway back into Vegas? He’s so caught up in the thought of walking the halls of The Tops again that he almost misses the word lapdog. Almost.

He narrows his eyes. “What do you mean by lapdog, baby? You realize this puppy ain’t into being leashed, right?”

“Well if you want to be more than one of the common folk you’re going to have to embrace the leash and be a good boy.”

Benny spits in the dirt. This ain’t right. This ain’t humane. That doesn’t mean he ain’t interested.

“Tell me why I should do this.”

She rubs her hands together and smiles. “Because you aren’t going to settle for the wasteland and I need a inside man who can tell me everything that the Families do. I’m not going to make the same mistake House did, I’m going to watch the power players and make sure they stay in their lanes. I’m not letting what you did happen again.”

Oh this broad is clever! She deserves this town better than anyone. She knows what to do, how to treat her fickle town, how to make sure it stays in her hands. Her judgement is impeccable. Who better than him to spy on the Omertas and the White Gloves? Once upon a time this was his town, and he knew how it rolled. Benny knew every shred of gossip, every rumor, every word that came out of the mouth of the big players. He knew when every little lord and lady fucked, slept, ate, shit, and schemed. That kind of knowledge could quell a revolution, a fight the Courier doesn’t want happening again. Funny to think that he once thought she wasn’t a threat.

But there are problems with this plan. No doubt his boys know that he betrayed him. They won’t welcome him home, no siree, and the rest of the Strip? Well, he’s no better than a White Glove frozen dinner.

“I like your ambition but you’re missing something important.” He says.

“Like what?”

“Swank isn’t going to let me come waltzing through those doors. He’ll splatter my brains across the carpet as soon as he sees me.”

“Why? He doesn’t know anything.”

What?

The Courier’s lips turn up in an amused smile. “All Swank and the rest of Vegas knows is that some fuck shot me in the head and I took over Vegas. I didn’t tell them that it was their boss who set my rampage in motion.”

He can’t believe this. It’s like the bitch had this all planned out from the start. Maybe she did, he tells himself. She’s smart enough.

“Swank told me you often disappear for days at a time, weeks even. All you have to do is walk back in, say you had business somewhere in the Mojave, and then it’s back to business as usual.”

She makes it sound so easy and really, it is. Benny is good at lying and Swank is good at believing him. What Swank accepts, the rest of his pack with accept, and so will Vegas. There’s a sick feeling in his gut though. All the lies, they’re piling up. It isn’t right to lie to your second, but Benny has been doing it for years. He’s neck deep. This’ll be the last lie, he thinks, then things will return to normal.

The Courier is right, he doesn’t want to be a wastelander again. He’s had a taste of civility and now he doesn’t think he can truly step away. He just ain’t too keen on being a slave.

“So I get my little slice of heaven back and in return, I give you information. Correct?” He asks.

The Courier swings her legs off the table and leans forward. She’s so close to him. It reminds him of two weeks ago when he was at the mercy of her blade.

“Well, that and a few other things. You’ll do exactly as I say. If I say jump, you say how high. If I ask you to swim in a sea of radiation, you better be running for your swim trunks-”

“So I’m your little bitch” he interrupts. “I get it.”

She cocks her head to the side, her jaw working furiously. “No, you don’t. Don’t interrupt. You’ll spy for me and you’ll pretend like you’re just one of the boys, like you and me have never had any ties. If I ask you to accompany me somewhere, you’ll do it. The Tops is your kingdom, you can run it how you like, but you won’t tell me how to run Vegas, and you won’t try to run it for yourself.”

She drives a hard bargain. Benny licks his lips and shifts on his knees, which are now aching so badly his legs have started to shake. The way he sees it, he doesn’t have a choice. She’ll just kick him to the curb if he says no. There is no better way back into Vegas, there is no other option. He’ll play his part. For a bit.

“Fine,” he spits. “You win. I’ll come back. I’ll play your game by the rules if it gets me back into my casino.”

The Courier leans back and smiles brightly. “Perfect!”

“Who would’ve thought I’d become business partners with the broad who I put in the ground?”

“And who would have thought that broad would be pulling the strings?” She smirks. “Now get up.”

He stands slowly. The Courier takes a knife from her boot and cuts the ropes around his wrists. He’s still got scars from the Legion’s bindings. He looks up from his hands at the courier. She’s a good head shorter than his six feet. This is the first time they’ve been side by side not as enemies, but as allies. She stares up at him with cold, blue eyes.

“Arcade!” She shouts.

“Yeah?”

Benny turns. A Follower doctor with blonde hair and thick rimmed glasses peeks around the tent flap.

“Do you have any clothes Benny can borrow? I don’t need him walking back into The Tops looking like he’s been dragged through the dirt.”

Arcade laughs humorlessly. “I’m sure I have something. Want me to make him bathe, too? I can smell him from here.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Arcade.”

“I aim to please. Follow me, asshole.”

“You’ve got lovely friends.” Benny growls, backing away from the Courier. She crosses her arms and sticks her hip out.

“Yeah. I’ve got the best of the best. Even the most disgusting now.”

Benny follows Arcade, but before he pushes the dirty cloth aside, he hesitates. For the first time he realizes he doesn’t even know this bitch’s name. It’s just always been the Courier or pussycat or baby. He turns around and she raises an eyebrow.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been so caught up in hating you babydoll, that I don’t even know your name.”

Her smirk falters then shifts into a wide smile.

“My name is Indigo Blue. Call me Indy.”

#fallout #benny gecko #fallout benny #fallout new vegas #courier x benny #indy #courier six

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