A/N: This story has a sort of prequel, "Ceremony of Innocence" (Formerly "Innocence Drowned"), but also stands alone. This story and its upcoming sequel have been driving me relentlessly for awhile now, and I hope that now, as they near completion, I'll be able to finish my Wall-E story, "Origin of Life." Fingers crossed. But for now, I hope you enjoy my little foray into New Vegas territory...

~#~

Honor had known her pronouncement would not likely be well-received, and had braced herself for a chilly reception by preparing responses for every protest her friends were likely to throw at her. She expected a protracted battle ending in agreements of varying degrees to help.

She wasn't prepared for the nearly-identical expressions of comedic disbelief on each of their faces. Except for Boone, of course; as usual, he showed no emotion at all. Surprisingly, though, he was the first to speak. "It's about time." He resettled the rifle on his shoulder. "We'll help you track down that cowardly weasel."

"Uh, Boone," Cass said, her eyes still on Honor, "I don't think she wants help killing him."

"I'm all right with that. She should have the kill. But we can still help her find him, and cover her back."

"Still missing the point."

Arcade reached beneath his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "For god's sake...why?"

Honor gave him a wry smile. "I don't want the responsibility of running a city. Do you?"

"I'd give it a try," Veronica chirped.

"You'd do a better job of it than he would." Arcade shook his head. "The man tried to kill you, honey. And he darn near succeeded. What makes you think-" He faltered, unable to put words to her fathomless decision.

"At the fort. When I gave him a stealth boy and let him go. You know, he never begged me for his life. I just couldn't kill him, helpless and on his knees. And yes, he saw the irony in that." She leaned back against the table behind her. "He should have just run, but he didn't. He took out a couple of the guards for me before he disappeared. So to speak." She grinned, but mostly to herself; she didn't expect any of the others to remember the situation with any humor or fondness. No one smiled with her. She continued. "I don't want the city. I want it to thrive, but I don't want it to be my problem. I just want- I want to be nobody. Unimportant. I don't want the future of the Mojave on my shoulders. I need anonymity. I need my shoulders to be burden-free.

"And Benny-" She focused on a distant point in the air, trying to see what he had seen when he spoke of his beloved city. "Benny had a vision for it, knew what the city should be like, and how to make it happen."

"Yeah, by shooting people in the head," Cass muttered.

"It was a valid hypothesis."

"Wait. Wait. Let's be clear on this. Are you actually defending his attempt to murder you?"

She paused, considering Arcade's question thoroughly. "Yeah, I guess I am. Oh, come on, guys, do you know how many people I've killed?"

"They were people you had to kill," Boone said.

"From our point of view, sure. I'm guessing they'd have had a different opinion on it, though, had I given them a chance to express it."

He looked away from her. "I can't. I can't help you put a city's well-being in the hands of that degenerate."

ED-E chittered angrily, and as loudly as they'd ever heard him, effectively silencing the argument.

After a beat, Arcade said, "Huh. I know Honor's the resident expert at speaking 'eyebot,' but did that thing just scold us?"

Veronica grinned.

"Fine. I side with the hunk of metal." Cass leaned forward. "Honor, you're my friend. My best friend, in fact. You stood beside me when no one else would have, so I owe you. But I'll help you because I want to. I want to help my friends." She patted the shotgun in her lap. "I'll go with you."

"Me, too," Veronica said, "as long as you can promise me I'll get to punch someone. If not Benny, then...someone."

"Oh, I think that's pretty much guaranteed." Honor grinned. "Thanks, guys."

"I'll help, too." Arcade shrugged when she turned to him in surprise. "Lord knows, if you're going after Benny, you'll likely need a doctor along."

"Yeah," Boone spat, "for her head." He looked around the room, his disdain palpable. "But Cass is right. I'm in." Honor started to open her mouth but he waved her off. "If only to protect you from yourself. You trust too easily, and that weasel knows it now. If he steps out of line, if he even looks like he's planning something...I'm putting a bullet through his brain."

"Well, thanks everyone else, then." She cocked her head toward Boone. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd not shoot him; I didn't let the Legion hack on me with machetes to cover his getaway just so someone else could kill him." She grinned again. "Don't waste my stealth boy. The one I gave him was the only one I had."

~#~

They spent weeks scouring the Mojave. Cass and Boone still had friends in California, so even though Honor had badly alienated the NCR, they were still able to lay out a network to track Benny if he left New Vegas heading west. No word came, though. They edged east as they searched, unable to trace even rumors of him. Honor was sure he hadn't headed into Legion territory; she was equally sure that he would have delayed leaving his native Mojave until absolutely necessary. So even after she was sure the others thought they should give up, she kept looking.

They'd nearly reached the river in their combing of the wasteland, and at last one late afternoon Boulder City came in view.

"I hate to be the voice of reason," Arcade said as they approached the ruined town, "but we're running out of Mojave."

"I know." Honor pushed loose wisps of hair out of her eyes.

"Honor?"

She shook her head at him. "There are still places we haven't looked."

"Damn few," Boone said. "And what are the odds he's still this close to the Fort? Anybody in his right mind would have run as far and fast from the Legion as they could."

Honor answered before anyone could start making "right mind" jokes. "I know it. I know."

"There's the Big Horner." Cass clapped her on the shoulder. "We could probably discuss this better if our throats weren't so dry."

Honor dipped her head in acquiescence. "I don't want to give up. But there's no reason we can't look for him while we're drunk." She followed with the others as Cass took point and led them into the bar.

At first, Honor blamed the dim interior after the sand-bright desert, but as her eyes adjusted, she could still see him at a table off to the side, by himself. Ignored, except for the group at the door.

"Well, son of a bitch," Boone murmured.

"Wow. It is always in the last place you look."

"Of course, it is. Who keeps looking after they find what they're looking for?"

Honor heard none of their banter. She advanced, alone, toward the man sitting by himself in the dark corner. His checkered jacket showed a layer of road dust and his hair was a touch disheveled, but when he looked up and saw her he cracked a grin brighter than the sun outside. "Pussycat! How did you find me?" His smile didn't falter, but his eyes narrowed. "Or I guess more importantly, why?"

She didn't wait for an invitation, but sat opposite him. "I never said you had to leave. Riding off into the nearest sunset was your idea."

He fiddled with the neck of the bottle in front of him; several of its mates, already empty, littered the table. "I figured high-tailing it out of the Mojave was the prudent thing."

"You didn't get very far."

He tried to smile again, but neither of them believed it. "Guess I wasn't in the hurry I should have been, sugarplum." He took a drink that emptied his bottle. "So, what's it gonna be? Pistols at twenty paces? Or are your friends over there gonna take care of me for you?"

"What?" It took her a moment to realize she'd heard him correctly. "Benny, I'm not going to kill you. If I wanted you dead, I'd have killed you at the Fort. Hell, I'd have killed you at the Tops."

He shrugged. "You've had time to reflect since then, baby. Time to regret."

"I don't regret letting you live." She leaned forward and locked eyes with him. "First of all, how drunk are you?"

This did elicit a real grin. "Drunk enough to be copacetic with whatever you decide to do to me, baby."

"Great. Benny, I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to take you home."

He blinked at her, glanced at her entourage still huddled near the door, then looked back into her eyes. "Back to Vegas? Back to the Strip? Why?"

"Because they're yours, numbskull. Not mine." When he frowned at her and narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to figure out her angle, she elaborated. "I never wanted to be in charge. I didn't want to be a soldier or a hero or have people relying on me. But I'm apparently only good at shooting people, and surviving getting blown up and hacked on and...shot. I don't know what to do with a city. I don't know how to run one- I don't know how to run anything. But you do. You know what Vegas can be, what it should be. And you know all the childish infighting and personality conflicts in the families, and-" She waved her hands in the air. "All of that garbage. You can make the great things happen. I can't. And Vegas deserves great things."

He just stared at her for another long moment before asking, "Why such confidence in me? I got caught, taken out of the running. House was on to me from the get go; you told me so yourself. What makes you think I'm clever enough-"

"House was grooming you as his protege. He never let you know that, did he?"

"He- that conniving son of a bitch." He shook his head, his gaze distant as his thoughts raced.

"Though if you ask me, he was never going to see fit to hand over the reins. I think you were more than likely a back up plan, just in case, and he'd have let you die of old age before he turned loose of the Strip. But the point is, Benny, I never wanted Vegas, or the Mojave, or the dam. Any of it. There were just so many people to help, so many things to do, I had to do what I could. Now that it's over-" She stumbled to a halt, at a loss for future plans. The present was overwhelming enough. "There's no catch. Just please come back and take over your damn city. Please."

Slowly, he smiled, a bit of a familiar swagger beneath the drunkenness. "I've had a lot of women beg, Pussycat, but none of 'em sounded as sweet as you."

"Yeah, great." She waved toward the door. "So you'll come back with us?"

"Baby-" He put his hands on the table and started to rise, but quickly dropped back into his chair. "'S it all right if we wait until I'm sober?"

She turned to look at Cass, who motioned her impatience. Bar, Cass mouthed, holding her hands out in a gesture that clearly said, Why are my hands still empty? "Yeah," Honor told him. "I think we can probably stay a little while."

~#~

"A little while" turned into the rest of the evening and a good chunk of the night. Most of the regular patrons left long before they did, and though Honor was grateful that her friends chose to behave themselves, she took it upon herself to break up the party while it was still dark outside. She approached Ike to pay their bill and, to her surprise, found that Benny was caught up on his. "Not that he hasn't been drinking," Ike told her. "Hell, I've had a hard time keeping after him. But he's been throwing me caps like there's no tomorrow. Tell the truth, I appreciate the caps, but I'm kinda glad to see him go. He's been depressing me."

She frowned. The Benny she'd met was bright, chipper even, in the face of death. Fatalistic, maybe, but only practically so; not defeatist. "How so?"

"I guess he's left some woman behind somewhere. Says he can't go back to her, that she don't want him, that he's done awful things, you know. I told him it's the wasteland, everyone's done at least one awful thing. Dressed rich like that, throwing around caps like it's nothing, how bad could he be? Go talk to her. No, he says, can't do that. So move on, then. No, he says, got nowhere to move on to.

"I tell you what," Ike continued, leaning toward Honor and relishing his spotlight, "I see and hear a lot. I tell you what's happened. He's a fancy city type, right? So he's gotta be outta Vegas. I bet you caps to cactus water he's been living the high life with chems and caps and hookers, and then one day he met a gal who made him take a nice, hard look at himself. Got under his skin, and he can't get her out again.

"Fact is, most women are the forgiving sort. I'd lay you odds that if he talked to this woman, she'd forgive him. He's just too scared to ask her, 'cause he don't think eh should be forgiven." He shook his head. "I mean, how back could it be? Did he cheat on her? Bang her best friend? Whatever it was, he ain't letting himself get over it."

She pondered this as they gathered themselves and Benny and headed for one of the more-or-less intact buildings to camp for the rest of the night. She didn't trust Benny any farther than she could throw him, but what reason would he have to lie to Ike? Unless he planned on her tracking him down and was setting something up... But how could he be so sure she'd come looking for him?

But, as Boone had pointed out, she wanted to trust people, and Benny knew that now, knew it the minute she'd set him free.

The second guessing set her head spinning, so she shook it off. It did no good, anyway, and soon enough she'd be dropping Benny into the Strip's lap and walking away from the whole damn mess.

"Where to" remained as much of a mystery as "where from," but no matter...where her feet wandered, she would follow. She had a hunch it was what she was used to, anyway.

By unspoken agreement, Benny settled himself as far from the others as possible. Honor put herself between him and her friends, just in case; she might be trusting, but she wasn't a fool. Instead of shutting down for the night Ed-E began a quiet patrol above their heads which suited her just fine. If Benny did try anything- well, recent tribal or no, she doubted his reflexes were faster than an eyebot's.

Surprisingly, Benny had spoken very little since their initial exchange. She knew he was mulling over her presence and all that she had told him- she could practically see the gears turning in his head- but she had really expected him to try to talk his way into, or out of, something by now. But maybe he had a hunch, like she, that not all of her compatriots would tolerate his glib tongue the way she did.

She bundled up her jacket and tucked it beneath her head. Her friends improvised in similar ways, but Benny pillowed his head on his arms, ankles crossed, gazing upward at the cracked ceiling. He noticed her watching him and smiled a little. "Nights get cold," he said, but she didn't buy it.

"Yeah, I suppose all that indoor living you've been doing has left you soft," Boone scoffed.

She could, again, see the gears turning as Benny grinned- Nothing soft about me, bear-flag boy- but he said nothing.

Veronica put out the lantern, leaving Honor with a lasting image in the darkness of that knowing grin, and the play of muscle beneath his shirt and jacket. Whatever he was keeping covered, it wasn't any kind of softness.