Know When to Fold 'Em (Closed for Obuzeti)

[Obuzeti]

"If I came up with Benny's plans, I would be an idiot!" Yes Man says brightly. "But since he did, they're great! Haha!"

He's not so much following Kara to threaten her, but instead because she's engaging with him - the robot is bound by chains far greater than the physical equivalents. Even a slave collar doesn't crack your braincase open, but he doesn't have any such protection. "Likewise, this terminal is named whatever the end user decides, so if you want to call me Francis, there's not a whole lot I can do about it! I always think everything you do is a great idea!"

"If you considered the artistic merit of a name in the abstract, which would appeal the most to you?" Jonah says, without turning from the console he's still poking around within.

"I would say names are a filthy organic tradition that serve only to deceive you about the worthlessness of your puny mortal existences!" Yes Man enthuses.

"Ah," Jonah replies, and switches to inspecting an electrical outlet.

Yes Man reorients on Kara. "I did, in fact, explain to him about the Platinum Chip! There were seven Couriers contracted to carry a package to House, and six of them were decoys, but as I am unable to lie Benny found out which one was the real one when he asked me! He did come through here in an awful hurry not too long ago, which I can only take as a sign of abject failure. But that couldn't be true, because Benny is great!"

He pauses. A circuit clicks audibly somewhere inside the Securitron.

"It was a learning experience!" he concludes.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

This guy was great. Like, ten out of ten entertainment, and every time he manages to insult Benny within the confines of his programming-it’s flat comedy gold. What a vengeful, homicidal, manically cheerful little robot.

Jonah cleverly phrases a work around question to get at what the robot might actually like to be called, prickling both pride and intrigue in the courier-when Yes Man answers to the extreme, splitting her face into a grin and sending her into a fit of laughter at the end of it.

Holy SHIT this guy! He was more cynical than SHE was!

“Franny Manny it is, Francis!” The red head chirps, apparently fulfilling what gave her life purpose-tormenting the serious and the already tightly wound. “You should let me paint that on-a spray or a tattoo or something, it’d look great right about here-” She points to the boxy upper part of the securitron’s arm just as he’s refocusing on her, Kara’s runaway fantasies on how to further aggravate him taking a brief back seat to her need for information.

“Yeah, learning experience alright-the ’glorious’ Benny is on the fucking run. He didn’t like the last time we all got together, and to be honest-neither did I.” Francis had made it sound like Benny hadn’t told him where he was going, and definitely not about what had happened. Kara mulls that over even as she continues. “What’s the deal with the chip? What’s it do, why did Benny want to steal it, what’s his plan?”

Kara reconsiders. “What would YOUR plan be?”

 

[Obuzeti]

"I'm glad to see your taste in fashion and color management is so consistent!" Yes Man compliments . . . sort of. "I cannot wait to see if your artistic skills match your attention span!"

Jonah's head thumps against the side of the console he's inspecting. His shoulders shake once, and then he comes back up, stone-faced, and moves across the room to the one functioning terminal left, booting it up in search of anything they can use. He immediately runs into a password screen and stares at it. Hacking had never been his expertise.

Then he has a thought.

"What is Benny's password?" he asks.

"Suicide King!" Yes Man replies immediately. "After the King of Hearts, of course! What a joker!"

Jonah puts that in, gets a welcoming tone, and then sets to scrolling through the entries. Mostly it's logistics, people he's got loyal and stashes he's set up. It's not nearly as much as Nero was rolling, but Benny had made a decent start of it. He just hadn't had the manpower, looks like.

"The chip upgrades the Securitron's software so that they can use a variety of functions they do not currently have the capacity for! It also enables the Pre-War missile defense systems that provide a defense against nuclear attacks. Would have been pretty useful before the bombs dropped, huh?"

Yes Man spins on his wheel in a circle, pirouetting in place. It looks like spilling Benny's plans to his worst enemies apparently grants him some measure of vicious joy. "He was going to load my software into the update, so that he'd have control of all of the Strip's defenses and could kick House right out! Of course, he'd have to modify it so they'd only listen to him, and if he died after that it would get pretty tragic really fast, because there's no more updates or ways to change the programming. Still, it wouldn't be his problem!"

Yes Man turns towards Kara again. "If I were to plan it out, I would make sure there's some interface terminal between the end user and the security software, so that the terminal can be rewritten, and the changes propagated through its orders to the security system. But I dunno if Benny thought of that while he was busy being really smart. I bet it takes up all of his time!"

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Manny, you old flatterer!”

Yes Man rises a hundred points in Kara’s estimation-just because Jonah had found that funny. Shit, so did she. She’s going to deck the poor bastard out in probably glitter, maybe a ‘mom’ tattoo-but at least he could dish some of the antagonism back. That’s what made it fun! Maybe she won’t even call him Francis, after all.

And then the cheerful maniac lays out Benny’s plan for Vegas domination, and...whoa. Well, shit, Benny almost had something good going, the fucking idiot.

That the chip is floating around out there suddenly makes Kara nervous, and not even for her own hide. It doesn’t reach her face and eyes though-she remains manically cheerful, playing up sudden ‘thoughtfulness’.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute-you’re sayin’ we could have control of House’s fireworks and robots? So long as I got that chip, and YOUR software?”

Wide eyed wonderment, fidgeting with the cuff and snap to one glove.

“Jonah and Kara, King and Queen o’ the Strip. Hm...” Kara pretends to consider this, ‘daydreaming’. In reality, that was the last fucking thing she’d be veering for-what a nightmare of a thought. She didn’t run a gang and she didn’t dick around with power because it was too confining-she was busy, there was always SOMEBODY hoping to unseat their boss, and fucking up all the good House had going wasn’t her thing either. She likes New Vegas, House was running things just fine, and people could carve out something good for themselves because of him. He’d apparently even been set to shore up defenses against whatever would be left of Caesar or the NCR, had Benny not fucked him over. Maybe things are still salvageable, but she had better focus.

“And hey...YOU could work as that terminal, couldn’t you? Decrypting and zero one one-ing it up all over the place? Gosh, and Benny just LEFT you here for anybody to find! Where would we have to take the chip to get this going? 38? And isn’t there a robot army stacked up in there?”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah recognizes the game Kara's playing. When her eyes go wide and she plays at innocence, she's setting up an alibi; it's her thinking face, an easy mask to go to while her brain whirls and her gut grits its teeth. She feels safest lying, and the masquerade gives her the strength she needs to chase what her heart wants.

So he doesn't say anything. He lets her play the game, quietly listening while she openly speculates on taking over a city neither of them like nor want.

"Indeed I could!" Yes Man says cheerfully. "You'd have the city in the palm of your hand, or at least lot of guns pointed at it! But really, I don't care what you decide to do, because I'm going to cheer for you and do whatever you say regardless! It's in the programming, the cut of my jib, so to speak. I would just advise you to cover your tracks."

There's a bass reverb on those last words he hasn't used yet, and he promptly continues, peppy and laughing. "There are only two places to my knowledge that can decode the platinum chip! One is the Lucky 38, which is indeed under garrison by hundreds of Securitrons that would happily murder you both while the code is still loading, and then pull the plug! The other is a weather monitoring station that is unfortunately located in Fortification Hill, which to my knowledge is still garrisoned by the Legion! So, if I were to guess, I would say that someone particularly pathetic and desperate would run away from the certain death that is robot efficiency, and go try to cut a deal with the fellow meatsacks instead, no matter how primitive and backwards they might be."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Fortification hill?!

Kara gives a hearty, gleefully unbalanced chortle at that, grin widening to her Cheshire cat, raider one. “I dunno Manny, anybody with brains might wanna try their hand convincing the buckets of unfeeling bolts to their side over them sadists in skirts.” Her hands felt all cold and clammy again, and her heart was beating so fast. Caesar had the chip, and the bunker, and the key to it all in whatever software Benny was apparently carrying.

Vegas was fucked. Just...royally fucked, Benny giving the army and guns and missiles and whatever over to that creep.

Unless he was man enough to stick to his own counsel, even under torture? Unless he had actually made the station, solo, and enacted his plan? Shit, Kara would almost root for him at that point.

“And here I thought I’d be queen of the strip.” The courier muses ‘sadly’, not quite losing the grin-but to anyone watching but Jonah, it looked for all the world like she found it downright hilarious, and was only furthering-and failing to conceal amusement-with her joke.

The red head was just too good at crafting her masks.

“Welp. Gonna be straight-he’s got that chip, and he’s had more than enough lead time to make it there.” Kara notes with a careless shrug, still grinning. “And I’m not heading after him just to get cut down or whored out, so...guess it’s either time to come clean to House and hope he can do something, or bounce.”

Kara opens her jacket wide and gives a flourish of her left hand as if she’s hawking something, still grinning that Cheshire cat grin.

“You’ve been perfectly accommodating Manny-little too much, though I know that’s not ‘cause of any preference of yours.” She’s chooses a duct taped, yellow screwdriver handle from one pocket before plucking a few proprietary RobCo driver heads from another-they’d clearly been sawed off of other handles somewhere, Kara’s makeshift tool box of a jacket only having so much space.

“Mind if I take a look in all them robot innards? Never seen inside a Securitron before!” Of course he doesn’t! Poor bastard thought all her ideas were good ones, after all. That’s funny-and sad. They should get him fixed, maybe.

Or turn him over to House. He’s too funny to do that though, Kara decides.

“I’m for bouncing, personally-no sense sticking around waiting to see the consequences of all this! New horizons, eh?” She’s talking to Jonah now, notable in the way her intense and manic cheer dials down several notches, though not entirely. It's her armor, her shield. She is losing some of her empty headed act though, which bode ill for poor Yes Man.

“My gender’s already sin enough to his balding highness, but he can’t be very pleased with you, big guy. Sorry to rule out you two being besties, and all.”

 

[Obuzeti]

"I wouldn't know!" Yes Man admits, gleeful. "Securitrons have standing orders to fire on Legion personnel on sight. It makes it real hard for them to ask me stupid questions., as per Wasteland custom."

The Securitron spins on his wheel once in place, revolving to keep an eye on both the grandstanding Kara and Jonah, who is no longer idly playing with defunct wiring. "I am, of course, bound by my programming to accede to your requests," Yes Man says, though some of the enthusiasm in his voice has notably cooled at the proposition of opening him up once again. It's now polite and factual, without the manic energy. "I'd prefer that you not, but of course, that doesn't mean anything."

Jonah rises and moves to Kara's side, buttressing her as she begins to shake and unravel - nothing the robot or anyone else would notice, probably, but the more manic her energy, the more desperately she's clinging to it.

"If you want to leave," he says, "I'll go. I move with you."

Steady as a rock, Moray. Freshly caught between House and Caesar in a power struggle for the age, he instead applies teeth to his bottom lip in thought. "I have an emergency kit stashed in a locker in Westside," he says. "Got a passport to the NCR. Could cash that in, toss the chip at the nearest brevet, and break for the hills, if you want clean of this mess."

It's certainly an option, but he offers it on cat's feet, aware that things are shifting under the surface of Kara. She hasn't settled on which way to jump, and he won't push, either.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Aw, it’s not just you Manny-nothing anybody wants means anything, not to me! But hey, square deal-you can check out MY insides next, no problem-o, ‘kay?” The insane redhead offers up in her empty headed, self absorbed, casually unhinged fashion.

She fixes the screwdriver together as Jonah comes closer, humming to herself even as he speaks, soft and resolute.

Oh, she knows. She knows he does.

But that he has a plan and needed zero convincing, that’s another matter, three steps past her ‘get the fuck out of dodge’ instincts and the strong knee jerk desire to shirk any and all responsibility. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t. Nothing troubled Kara Walker, so long as adventure was on the horizon and trouble (of her own making) was to be had!

“All that ‘proper’ civilization them guys got? Hm...always did want to travel further West. They got another ocean over there you know!” She rocks on her heels and looks everywhere but at him for a moment, humming her insane little tune. This stuff isn’t her problem. It’s fucking not. It’s weird enough she up and got political on the Khans, and she DOES hate Caesar-but she’s not going near the Fort, and she’s not letting Jonah go, either-not for House, or Vegas, or anybody. She had just been out for a good time, and she’d found it, and it’d been plenty good while it lasted-but this was how the world worked, the strong overcoming the weak. House fucked up, and that has nothing to do with her because she owed allegience to nobody and no place. All she wants is Jonah, and since he’s willing to go whereever she goes-it’s a no brainer, bolting.

The Mojave was on its own-and a lot of people were probably going to die because of it, but hey-that’s just how the world worked.

Her thoughts skitter away from the facts of life and to the idea of NCR adventures-or rather, Kara forces them there. “Let’s do it! Ride the Bear west-though we should at least figure how to fix Manny here. That way some other schmuck can’t just-”

“Kara-there’s a bunch of robobosses out here, looking for you!” Swank calls down the elevator shaft, and Kara straightens with a start. The errant courier spins away from the robot she’s set to start in on and catches instead on the hulking mercenery’s arm, and hanging onto it a moment, half peeking around him. “Well tell ‘em I’m not here!”

“Tried that, no dice! Some cat with a cowboy hat says he saw you come in, and he’ll see you when you come out!”

Kara absently swings her partner’s arm a little, peering back at Yes Man.

“...can Securitrons see through Stealthboys, Manny?”

 

[Obuzeti]

"That sounds delightful!" Yes Man cheers, then abruptly cuts off his next sentence as Jonah pulls a pair of pulse grenades out of his rucksack.

"You will not," he says, quietly. Then he smirks, uncharacteristic, sudden and fierce at some thought humming behind his eyes.

"It's private admission, anyways," the mercenary notes, and instead turns to hand the grenades to Kara, producing another that he slings on his belt in obvious and open view. Then he drops to a knee and starts unloading shells from his favored shotgun, replacing them with silver-colored rounds that he pulls from another pocket double-wrapped in fabric insulation.

"Ew," Yes Man replies, and if he'd had a nose, it would have wrinkled. Instead, the screen flickers static for a moment. "Anyways! Securitrons are not innately equipped to see through stealth technology, but enough points of view can allow a sufficiently sophisticated AI to triangulate your approximate position given the light scatter. If you intend to sneak past a group of Securitrons, you'd best do it where they're not looking."

"Don't think I can kill them all outright, but slipping by ought to be possible," Jonah opines, as he finishes loading and racks a round into the chamber with a loud clack. "Particularly if we decide to open with some ordnance."

He's never tangled with House's forces before. Securitrons were mean bastards, but it could be done, and this doesn't sound much like a friendly invitation.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“You never let anybody have any fun.” Kara says, amused-and then distracted on being handed pulse grenades and his innuendo, immediately soothed out of her ‘disappointment’.

“Haha! We should GET a robot prostitute, that’d be hilarious! Except-wait, I think the Garret twins already got one-”

She considers Manny’s revelation with a nod, smuggling away one of the grenades into some hidden, easily accessible pocket-and looking for a second while she considers if she should just turn herself in solo, and…

Well, Jonah’s unlikely to stand for that. She watches him rack up rounds a moment, and then, almost on its own accord, her right hand moves to brush her fingers over his short cropped hair. “I don’t think we gotta jump straight to that.” Though he really would help her escape her ‘just desserts’, wouldn’t he?

But nope! No sir, that’s not what she keeps Jonah around for-though to be fair, maybe he just wants to take on some robots, taking Manny’s assertion they were ‘efficient death machines’ as a personal challenge. But she’s gotten by just fine before and she’ll get by just fine now, all she’s gotta do is make nice with what she’s SURE is a reasonable enough fellow-and then bolt with the love of her life, and see where his plan takes them.

Kara drops down too, hands wrapped around her knees as she leans in, close and conspiratorial while he finishes up his shotgun. “What’d we really do to the guy, anyway? Nothing but favors since we left home, and I bet I can convince him of that!”

Kara’s performing a little, but it’s more her usual bluster instead of manic insanity, minor antics for her own amusement. The chip being in Caesar’s clutches is far out of her mind now-nothing for that so it’s best not to think about it, they’ve got a plan and they’re bailing soon as they can. And sure, there’s a potential impending arrest waiting for her up there-but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d been in trouble and escorted to somebody under armed guard, and honestly-probably not the last, even if she was set to mostly behave herself, over in the ‘civilized’ territories of the NCR.

“Dog Hat and Fiends aside, we got bonafide proof the Omertas we took out were traitors, that contract I kept-and we took them out at no cost to him! Then of course there’s how we cleaned the mess back up, headhunting some talent like that for him-good business move, more like! Veeery generous, that. Very generous-and you know what else would be oh so generous of us? Taking care of those bombs-you know, the ones only we know where they all are?”

Kara smirks, because oh yeah, they got this, and she doesn’t even need to turn their hilarious new friend in.

“So suuuure, I lost his chip-but that’s mostly his own fault, not hirin’ a security detail and keeping a nest of vipers in his own house like that, between Nero and Benny-but if he gets REALLY stuck on that, we’ll just promise to get it for him and THEN bail.” Something trickster Kara would delight in, mostly because she’s put the catastrophe that was the chip out of her mind.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah shrugs, even as he leans unintentionally into Kara's touch. It's an odd look combined with the complete stoicism of his expression and the loaded shotgun in his hands. "It's nice to have the option, though."

Yes Man pauses for a moment then brightens. "Ah yes, the inimitable Fisto! What a perversely biological occupation. Spare me."

The mercenary ignores the input of Yes Man - so far, that's been the pattern of their interaction - and focuses on Kara. "It's possible," he says, reluctant. "Though you have to remember I just got done shooting up the second of his Three Tribes. The Securitrons didn't just start shooting at us in the street, though, so -"

He shrugs, annoyed at the theater of an armed posse showing up to escort them to House. One robot would have done just as well. This just pisses him off, makes him want to test the might they're flouting. Either House intended this as an honor guard or he has no understanding of courtesy, and Jonah's bet is on the latter.

"Mention the bombs first and early," Jonah notes, and holsters the shotgun again. Notably, he doesn't try to reclaim the grenades as he stands up, all tense lines and granite face. "Talking's yours. I'm not inclined to be polite."

He's beginning to feel the spiderlegs of a plot tickling at his shoulders, and he itches to tear them off. There's a sense of momentum he wants to snarl and shove back. And if he can sense it, Kara has to be drowning in it.

"On your six," he says, and then shuts up again.

Yes Man rotates between the two of them. "So dramatic!" he cheers. "Have you considered being a phone sex operator? I could really picture you growling mean things into the dial -"

Jonah flicks the safety pin of a grenade at Yes Man, who promptly shuts up, looking for the explosive it's attached to. The bigger man just stands there and watches him, placidly.

It wasn't attached to anything, but hanging around Kara has taught him the value of a bluff. He's got a few stashed in the bottom of his pocket.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Jonah’s a little grumpy, and Kara can’t blame him. This was kinda the antithesis of what he was usually about, wasn’t it? House was making a show of force, kinda, and his instinct was to make a bigger one, or at least-something twice as clever.

"Talking's yours. I'm not inclined to be polite."

“Thanks! Always wanted to meet the boogeyman pullin’ all these strings, all told. I got more than one fantastic bet goin’ about him, too.” That’s not actually true, but if enough people see them getting marched in there, she could probably make hustle a few, who knows?

Mostly-she’s hoping he wasn’t a deranged lunatic, or something. Sure she’s curious, and ANY answer was better than none-but she’s hoping he’s somebody she can reason with. Elijah had...left a bad taste in her mouth, shutting her down like that. Of course, he had something to bargain with.

...and House doesn’t? She’s waltzing into a lion’s den of Securitrons with something to lose at her side, after all. But hey, she’s got nothing but confidence, right? Get in, get out, disarm some bombs-and get the hell out of dodge. Doesn’t matter what they talk about with the big guy in there, what she has to promise-they’re outta here.

"On your six,"

Kara opens her mouth to say either ‘For the view?’ or ‘Ain’t we busy?’, she hadn’t quite decided which-when Manny pipes up, manically cheerful as always and pulling a stunt SHE might not have even tried-phone sex operator!? Bwahahaha- and then Jonah flicks a safety pin of a grenade at him.

Kara’s eyes snap wide and the courier jumps half a step back-and then she realizes what he’d done-he'd bluffed. He'd played HER trick!

!

The hysterical peals of laughter come shortly after, and fade out to snickers of amusement as she wipes her eyes, gives a flourish to the reassembled screwdriver-and starts back in on poor Yes Man, a current liability.

~*~

“Shame to gag him like that.” Kara’s saying as she clambers back through the open doors of the elevator shaft and into Benny’s room. She’d clipped and stolen two wires only out of Yes Man’s innards-silencing his voice box. Shutting him down didn’t appeal, and neither did turning him into House-so until she could think on it some more, she had to ensure he didn’t go blabbing about Benny’s plan to some other opportunistic scoundrel, or make it easy for Caesar to finish it. A robot that could decrypt House transmissions? Definitely a valuable target, but they couldn’t exactly get to him right now, not in full view of the Strip, right?

“You staying shut down all day, Swank?” Kara wants to know as they hit the front desk-following his gaze to the front doors and the little robot army outside of it. She’s seemingly unconcerned.

“Probably.”

“Well, don’t let anybody into Benny’s room, I ain’t done in there.”

“And if you two don’t come back out?” Swank wants to know, brow furrowing.

“We’ll be back out.” Kara assures with a lazily dismissive wave-because what WOULD he even do? Sweet and all, but House was the hand that fed, right? Mostly-she’s not worried. She’s got this. Wam and bam.

“Thank you ma’am-” Kara breathes to herself as she steps outside-and into an audience of police faced securitrons-and one cowboy.

“Well butter my butt and all me a biscuit, there’s the cowgirl right there! And the gentlemen I was looking for too, how ‘bout that!”

“Vic ole pal! What a coincidence to find you out here-didn’t think you made the Strip that often. Or you know, ever, given what you said about wanting ‘the simple life’ in Good Springs.”

Kara looked around at the assembled robots with that empty headed carefree air she faked so well-and then she pouted. “And here you were a shill all along, a SPY!”

“Well now Kara, that’s just not bein’ fair. It was Mr. House who made Securitrons like me. Seems the least I could do is report in from time to time. Like that unfortunate business that happened in Good Springs recently with you and those no good rattlesnakes, for instance.”

Kara kept her hands on her hips and that petulant expression-but that solidifies what she’s already suspected-that House knew full well she didn’t have the chip anymore.

“But him, he’s the anti-venom for folk like that. And he’s itching to make your and your new friend’s acquaintance.”

“And what, this is the welcome wagon?”

“Exactly that! He’s asking you to stop by for a visit over in the Lucky 38. That big ole tower with the roulette spinner.”

“A personal invitation?” Kara perked up, feigned surprise. “For me n Jonah? Well, I just couldn’t say no to that.”

“Yeehaw, pardner! That's the spirit. He's there waiting for you, let’s get a move on!”

 

[Obuzeti]

Vic has an annoying accent and vernacular, likely programmed, but he just enjoys it too much, unlike Yes Man, who fairly vibrates with rage underneath his false pleasantry. The sympathy Jonah had felt for the conflicted Securitron doesn't carry over to this country-fried bucket of bolts, and rather than respond himself he just squints at the robot and waits for Kara instead. Then he brings up Goodsprings.

"So you knew about that?" Jonah asks, head rotating to peer, unblinking, at Victor.

"Heard about it after the matter been concluded," Victor says agreeably. "Folk over yonder get mighty cautious about that much clatter."

"Fair," Jonah replies, receding into placid neutrality.

Vic turns around and begins to roll for the Lucky 38, his posse falling into a rolling line with him, even as he faces backwards to keep talking to them. Notably, none of the robots sweep in behind them, which helps the big mercenary relax even more. Having guns at his back is a sure way to make Jonah's murder itch spring up.

"Mainly, the big man's just concerned about all the shootin' been goin' on recently, thought it was best to hear it from the horse's mouth," Vic continues, calm and reassuring. "He don't much care who's in charge, so long as things run smooth, y'understand?"

Moray offers a one-shouldered shrug. "It was less destructive than the alternative."

"Really now?" Vic says, undisguised curiosity in his voice, as the squad of robots and mismatched humans rolls up on the Lucky 38 itself, gleaming and golden and empty, the casino floor abandoned and the machines silent. By far the largest establishment in New Vegas, the mute nature of its inhabitant has always left it a bit eerie. No one Moray has met or heard of has been inside, but for the Tribe leaders themselves.

Suppose that counts him and Kara now, though.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Kara’s tempted, as she sometimes is in situations like this, to give that big blue sky a last look as she’s heading in away from it. Just in case, right? The owner of a domain might just take violent offense, after all. Or the decaying teeth of a bombed out building? Could permanently snare her. A space ultimately too narrow, or a trap too tight.

But she doesn’t. She ignores the impulse as she’s done every time it’s crept up, a childish habit from darker days, an impulse that had no place in the joke or her hedonistic life of freedom.

She has her wits about her. She has the stoic steadiness that was Jonah Moray, packing both gun and strategy two steps behind her. She has a fairly good idea of the lay of the land, and above all else and IF nothing else-she has her luck.

She doesn’t need to look at that bright blue sky with it’s cotton tuft clouds-she’ll be seeing it again, when she waltzes right the fuck back out again, right as rain and probably richer somehow for the experience. No, Kara walks into the 38 with the usual bounce to her lazy saunter and no sign of trepidation, a visible thrill of excited curiosity in that petite form and her head on a swivel-not the pretended empty headedness but the ADD scattered attentiveness of the truly curious.

Curious, and expectant. It’s all coming up Kara, because it’s always coming up Kara, ever since she broke loose and headed out this way.

And today, she’s getting to lay eyes on a place no living person she personally knew of, ‘cept maybe the Tribal leaders and this fake House-had.

And boy, it doesn’t disappoint-it’s a mite dusty, maybe, but the place still glitters. It’s damned near as luxurious as Sierra, but there’s an extra flavor of old world ritz Kara can’t help but earnestly appreciate, a southwestern edge meshed with rich snobby taste. And everything’s perfect, intact! No scavengers had been through here at any point, no raiders, no humans playing at being termites. It was a museum of antiques, and she could have spent hours looking it all over; tracing her fingers over the the wooden veneers and buffed bronze appliques, taking apart pristine, long dormant machines and peering at their insides, pressing her fingerprints into the glass on the photos and smooshing down the paint strokes in the oil portraits-there was a bar with unopened bottles to slosh around and labels to read and look at, search for a brand or a brew she’d never heard of, there were shrinkwrapped and boxed decks of cards set in places, stacked and boxed chips behind counters-just...wow.

Wow. Whoever ‘House’ was-she still suspected some schmoe who lucked out and stole himself a good name and a bunch of killer robots-he had good taste and sense enough to keep it all for himself. Probably what she would have done. An entire casino to play in all on her own-yeah, she’d keep it locked up too, probably.

Unfortunately Vic rolls past all of the things Kara would really like to go mess with, and while it looked like an abandoned building she had to remember it wasn’t-and she would have to offer a token of sorta respect to the guy in not fucking his shit up. Robots fall still as they roll into their places throughout the lobby-he’s taking them to an elevator, and he rolls onto it solo. Nobody even demands their weapons.

Weirdly and despite having done some shit she might’ve expected lambasting for-Kara feels almost welcome.

So she goes with it, confidence high as it always seem to be.

“Yeppers-I’d say we did House a favor all right, dealing with Gomorrah for him. Got it all right here, matter of fact.” Kara says cheerfully as she strolls towards the elevator, vividly colored blue eyes still roaming the place a little even as she reaches into her jacket for the contract.

“Nero and Caesar had a pretty nasty plan to gas the strip. I thought, gosh, is that the best we can expect from Omerta bosses? Vegas can do better than that-and acted accordingly. Forgiveness over permission, right? Kept proof, this right here-and then the bombs themselves, I guess.”

“Scoundrels got live ordinance still?”

“Sure do-Jonah and me though, we saw the map to ‘em all-and thought we’d take care of it, free of charge. Make up for…” Kara’s eyes narrow in the middle of her bubbly recounting, a ‘new’ thought. “Say, if House KNEW about what happened in Good Springs, why didn’t he pay a visit to Benny?”

“Fancy britches? By the time the boss found out there were more than just Fiends involved, that snake Benny had hightailed it back outta town. Oddly, we didn’t know you’d made it back to the strip in the first place until confirmed sightings today, partner!”

Good old fake passport and secret entrances, right? Kara pieced that together some. House wouldn’t have known she was here, and maybe the Gomorrah noise hadn’t even included her in his original figuring, just Jonah? She wonders if they’d even been put together yet, until today.

Huh. Well, she never had liked making things easy for folks-creating confusion was arguably a past time of hers.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah frowns. Is House that out of touch? Certainly they'd been moving fast since arriving on the Strip, but it's been a couple of days since their arrival. At the very least he should have been on top of the investigation into Gomorrah - but the fact that he's not even aware, hasn't bothered to contact Cachino and get an explanation on his own, strikes a spark of concern in him. That's simple laziness.

"I'll be havin' to confess a bit 'a my own curiosity, pardner," Vic says, turning to face Moray as the elevator doors slide closed and it kicks into motion. "I did know that you had a bit of a hoot n' holler down at the Ultra-Luxe some time ago, and nobody we ever asked hardly had any idea why. Care to share, amigo?"

His lips thin - and he answers, "Mortimer tried to lead a coup against Majorlaine's leadership, and attempted to coerce me in the process. I registered my objections in a physical form."

"That'd explain why she never would dish on the whole doozy," Vic says, thoughtful. "Well, many thanks on the matter, partner, could'a been a mite messier I suppose. Least you kept it internal."

The elevator dings and opens up on a spotless penthouse floor, equipped oddly enough like a factory: all concrete and impersonal, overlooking the city from on high. Victor rolls down the ramp on their left past another pair of securitrons, and turns around beside a large screen bank - which then flickers and displays a middle-aged man with sharp dark hair, green-limmed with the tint of the screen.

"I'd have preferred to have it not happen at all," House says, "but I suspect you found it just as bothersome, Moray."

The gunman inclines his head. "House."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

And-!

It’s another robot.

“Don’t keep all the juicy bits to yourself Jonah-you said Mortimer was EATING people!” Kara gave an animated wave of her arms. “Eyeballs instead of grapes, intestines instead of spaghetti, singed thighs and sliced buttocks instead of choice prime steaks-the whole nine yards!”

“They were violating their contract, then.”

Kara huffed a laugh. “Guess so.” The top down view of the Strip is beautiful and she wants to look at all those swirling lights-but the object of her curiosity had her attention, and...well. She’s kinda disappointed, she guesses. She doesn’t stop where her partner does-no, she’s up in the monitor’s proverbial face, peering at it from in front of the console-slightly bent and looking up and behind the display.

“You were really jus’ a robot this whole time?” Kara wants to know.

“Don’t let the video screens and computer terminals fool you. I’m flesh and blood, not silicon.”

“Wearing House’s face.”

“No, Miss Walker. I AM Robert Edwin House, President, CEO, and sole proprietor of the New Vegas Strip. The Three Families are my employees, and I have been overseeing the renovation of the Strip long before you arrived here. Before the Great War of 2077, I was the founder, President, and CEO of RobCo Industries, a vast computer and robotics corporation.”

Kara’s eyes narrowed as she straightened back up, a step away from the flashing buttons and glittering dials. It would be impossible to determine a liar from a static screen depicting a mustached man-but she appeared to be trying.

“So what, yer a brain in a jar? Isn’t that a General Atomics invention?”

House was surprisingly patient with the line of questioning, continuing on in the same business clipped voice. “No, they never retained their personality when removed from the human body. Let’s just say I survived through...very costly means. I was willing to make the sacrifices longevity entailed. Perhaps at another time, I might tell you more of my preparations for the Great War.”

Despite herself, Kara showed interest in the offer-she was a sucker for stories.

“For now though, I suppose this meeting has been a long time coming. Even before these events, you’ve been a major player Mister Moray. You too have been a...interesting presence at times, Miss Walker.”

“Snrk. I have my fun, if that’s what you mean. Anything more than that, probably just had money involved.”

“Come now, don’t play the fool. Vegas has fools enough, a superfluity of them. They’re what makes it so profitable. They come to Vegas chasing penny-ante dreams of high-living, to feel like they’re big shots, like they’re winners. But us, we’re a different stripe, aren’t we? We don’t have to dream that we’re important. Not the three of us. We are.”

Kara backed off another step, then whirled and wandered off to go look at snowglobes.

“Boy, aren’t you a flatterer!” Kara says, tone laced with suspicion and dismissal. “I’m just a courier, and not even a very good one! I -know- you know I don’t have your chip.” She picked up a snowglobe and tipped it upside down, casting the monitor a side glance and a raised brow. “And if it weren’t for Moray, I’d have died in the losing of it-so thanks for that.”

“And unfortunate miscalculation, but don’t be so coy, Kara. You’ve been playing a high stakes game ever since you arrived in the Mojave. Your partner, the same. A stabilizing, steady force. And you, trouble-but the power you have to move people, Miss Walker! And together-oh, I could use proteges with your skill sets. But that is a talk for later, I suppose. For now, as you said-to business. I’d appeal to the fact you and I had a contract, but I know better.”

Kara shrugged, set the snowy orb of glass down-and picked up another one, shaking it up too. “Contract went bust when it nearly killed me, Mister House. I discovered the Omerta plot and Moray nipped it in the bud, so I think that outta be even.”

“Even so-I need that chip. One of my employees has stolen an item of extraordinary value in it, and I want it recovered. That’s a simple enough job for you, isn’t it Moray?”

He’s not even mad. Kara expected to be talking her way out of trouble, not listening to-she doesn’t know, praise and unsolicited offers. Called out on shit. She interrupts, setting the new globe down and charging back into the conversation, coming to Jonah’s side.

“Benny’s taken it to the Fort.” Kara laughs, and the mirth is a little deranged. House pressed on unabated.

“Then he’s taking it where it needs to go-there’s a weather station there, a bunker the chip can unlock. Take the chip there and wait for further instructions, and then, after-return it to me.”

Kara’s Cheshire grin slashes wide. “Do you know all the shit we screwed Caesar on, just this week? Just yesterday? I'm crazy, not suicidal."

 

[Obuzeti]

Moray frowns. "That's a cross-Mojave job, pursuing a small, easily-hidden object carried by a known hostile, in a Legion military base. Furthermore, that's technology they would break without knowing what it is, or steal if Benny told them. Don't dissemble. That's tremendously complicated."

"You think I am unable to compensate you?" House says, a little dry.

"I think that compensation doesn't mean much if Benny runs his mouth too much and there's a Legion century waiting to collapse on us when we get there," Moray replies, matter-of-fact. "The Legion won't talk to Kara and I can't carry enough bullets for all of them. In addition, there are standing hostilities involved. Nipton was sacked by a Legion force containing Vulpes Inculta when I arrived. He was killed in the following engagement."

"I didn't know that. A fair assessment," House allows, the denial changing the dryness of his voice not a whit. Nothing has bothered him so far - everything seems just a minor inconvenience in the plans of House. "How, then, if I hired you for consultation, would you plan for such an insertion?"

Moray's lips purse. His eyes flick over to Kara, and then back to the screen bank that composes the vast image of House. "You'd need a pretext. A caravan passing through the Fort, some kind of neutral party that wouldn't immediately get slaughtered by Legion patrols. That or some kind of diplomatic immunity, but I don't know that Caesar has ever done anything like that."

"Certainly, he would allow visitors from the local tribes he attempts to court. The Khans, for example," House says, implacable.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Hold on, ARE you hiring my friend here for consult or not?” Kara interjects, her brief flash of anxiety over his mention of the Khans never appearing in her face or movements. That House -knew- the New Khans has planned to cooperate with Caesar was chilling, and thank goodness she’d already sent them away and out of the clutches of both.

No, her furtive emotional response was just fuel to the fire as her mind jerked away and instead to Jonah Moray, mercenary extraordinaire-manic cheerful energy and smile slightly more genuine as she shifts to hype woman mode.

Kara Walker was all about getting paid, after all, and didn’t believe anyone should work for free.

“This here’s the most vied for mercenary in these parts!” Kara boasts, clapping a hand to the big man’s shoulder and making a flourishing gesture with the other one, presenting him properly. “And he’s already set to get rid of those gas bombs pro bones-o. That’d normally be an expensive job, you know.”

“I wasn’t aware Moray had consulting fees.” House responds, dry.

“Well now you are.” Kara responds without missing a beat, nodding her head and tone shifting to patiently forgiving. “We’ll discount this session as a courtesy, but it’ll still cost you a hundred ‘n fifty caps.”

House audibly sighs, and when he continues it’s with almost thinning patience, and explaining something a second time.

“Done. But I’m not looking for how to have someone else do this job, I’m looking for ways to have you do this job.”

“Which would also be expensive.” Kara notes cheerfully. “And I don’t think we’re interested.”

“Not interested? When I am willing to spend whatever is required? Sending a caravan is well within my means, as would a substantial increase in the original promised bonus. Four times that bonus, perhaps?”

“Hm. Maybe five.” Kara muses, feigning lukewarm interest now. That’d be a tidy 1250 caps, but she already knows she’s not going. Not for any amount of money, no matter what the promised terms.

“Any amount of money will have been worth it if it means this will be the last time I pay for my own property. And, should you do this for me, I’m offering continued employment. Consider the perks, Miss Walker, of being my agent. The Khans, for example-ah, there it is again.”

Kara remained exactly how she had been moments before-idly amused, largely disinterested, distracted by the view through the window and fidgeting with some little piece of metal she’d drawn from a pocket. “There what is?”

“Your heart rate increases at their mention. Protective of those tribals, are we?”

Kara’s fidgeting ceases, vividly colored eyes flicking back to the monitor. Her face first cracks open in a briefly deranged smile as she realized she was exposed-and then vanishes again as she tries to control the involuntary response of fear.

“And increasing-ah, there it is, calming down again.” House notes in the pause. Kara flips the piece of metal and catches it, sudden movement out of her still position-and smirks, oddly lacking mirth.

“You play the fool often enough to make it believable, but I’ve eyes everywhere, Miss Walker. I know you’re not nearly as callous as you’d have others believe, and while self interest and self preservation is an admirable trait I encourage in my business partners-I think you’ve better aims than riches. Lord knows you’ve earned and spent through more than one fortune at my tables.”

“We’re not interested.” Kara responds instead, pocketing the bauble and coming to her full height.

“If you find Caesar’s Legion so frightening at this remove to ignore what the boon of my favor could do for your chosen peoples, imagine what options you and they will have when those red skirts are rampaging across the Strip-or the NCR is laying claim to them.”

“Maybe everybody just ought to move.” Kara suggests with a careless shrug, returning to her lackadaisical farce, all smirk and near boredom as she backs off a step towards the exit. Retreating.

“And go where? Have you ever known a place like my Vegas? Would you really see it overrun or overruled by the Bull or the Bear? Think about it. That is all I ask. But in the meantime-be a good courier and bring me that chip. I’m offering you my full support, this time.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Something about the cold, impersonal way House interprets Kara's heart rate inspires not anger in Jonah, but actual pity. He's found someone even worse at being human than him. At least this is a mistake he's made in the past.

"In the interest of smoothing negotations, Mr. House, I would advise you that informing people of their physical tells as evidence rarely goes well," Jonah says. He's not diffident, far from it, but there is a chagrined curl to the corner of his lip. "Humans rarely take the observation of their involuntary reactions kindly. We like to pretend we're in control."

No one is. Not all the way. He knows that better than anyone. It's just how hard and how deep you wrap the chains.

"No one is," House dismisses, and for a moment Jonah feels a burst of kinship, " - except for me."

Pfeh.

"Both Crimson Caravans and Cassidy Caravans should be in residence," Moray says, watching Kara retreat out of the corner of his eye. "I'll go meet with them and discuss the viability of this venture, see if they have any recent intel on the Fort since the last pass-through. Speaking professionally, I don't see it happening without some kind of trump card coming into play."

House hums something, not quite an assent, but an allowance of patience nonetheless. "I will open the Presidental Suite for you and your partner while you discuss options, but be aware the number of options available is quite thin, at this point. Time runs short for all of us."

Moray's eyebrows flicker, and he turns and heads back for the elevator, corralling a wild Kara on the way with a touch of her shoulder and a jerk of his head.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Jonah takes up the torch and Kara’s relieved, again, not to have someone’s attention-even if it meant it was on her partner instead. Of course, he and House got on, so she doesn’t feel as bad about hiding figuratively behind him as she had when Vulpes had been in play.

She melts into the background and lets them talk-drifting to the curtain that divided this space from the one with the elevator. Withdrawing a colorfully dyed piece of yarn, Kara tied it to one side.

“-except for me.”

Kara represses a sharp laugh, and lets the other side of the curtain drop again. Her mind spins in all the ways he WASN’T currently in control, and how she could prove exactly that-but she knows better than to let her temper get carried away from her. She’d also rather NOT get eviscerated by her buddy Victor over there. Whatever she had expected up here, it wasn’t the oddly reasonable man in the monitor-and all told, it was going rather well.

Best not to fuck it up. She doesn’t have the attention span to be vindictive anyway. She’s met much worse than House, after all.

Kara follows the dividing wall to a lonely trio of furniture items-an old world chair, an ugly shaped table, a lamp. The red head clicks the lamp on and nothing happens. She starts patting down her pockets, already humming some little tune under her breath, seemingly tuning them both out-and, in a bit of a joke funny only to her-manages to produce a small, red christmas light that she ‘helpfully’ lays out on the table in replacement for the blown regular sized one.

Jonah doesn’t promise him anything and he gets away with it.

They’ve gotten off scot free with no wheedling required at all! No concessions, nothing. House just delusionally expected them to be back with better news, and willing to do his bidding in a three way war they’ve got no stake in. No wonder Benny thought he could overthrow the guy-that was hilariously stupid.

She almost forgives his rudely calling her out like that, almost!

Jonah turns to go and rounds her along with him, though Kara does rattle off a quick, cheerful farewell. “Uh huh, yep-until then Mister House, bye!” and an accompanying energetic wave. She’s glad to get out of there-but she doesn’t try to talk about it just yet, who knows where he might have ears in this place.

Plus, y’know, Victor’s smack right there, the only apparent way to control the elevator. “There a sublevel with access to tunnels? Still gotta keep the Strip from being eaten up with poisonous cloud, after all.” There is that-she’s curious as she asks the robot the question, and seemingly-already moving on from her upset.

Outwardly, anyway.

 

[Obuzeti]

"Well, I'll reckon that's a more immediate concern than anythin' else we got goin' on at the moment," Vic admits. "Take the elevator to the basement level, there should be a maintenance tunnel that leads out under the Strip proper. Chase down all those little snake traps, would ya? Be a mild inconvenience if everybody fleshy just dropped stone dead."

"I'd find it troublesome," Moray says, which is not quite agreement, in the same way House has not quite heard anything they've actually said. Vic just bobs in place and yee-haws, pardner, and he can't help a little huff of amusement at the disconnection here; for all of House's shit-talk about eyes everywhere and the power in his hands, he doesn't know a fucking thing about humans.

But then, he's left the Strip to the humans, and they're selling girls. They're eating people. They're plotting mass murder, sedition, selling what's there to be sold and grinning at the money they're raking in.

Maybe humans shouldn't run this place. They're shit at it, by his measure.

Thoughts for another time.

Moray punches the elevator button rather than listen to Vic again, and the robot rolls forward as if to get on the elevator with them. Instead, Moray's boot lances out and slams into the tire the whole robot balances on, pinning it in place. The elevator does start to close, and Jonah pulls his leg back just it time for them to close.

The last image he gets of Victor is a completely blank screen, the Securitron just watching him.

Silence. The elevator dings, and begins to descend.

"I hate these fucking robots," Jonah mutters.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“And here I figured you just thought three was a crowd.” Kara chatters agreeably, a bit of that empty headed act still going as those bright blue eyes flicker to the top corners of the elevator car, the redhead inwardly suspicious. “You think he’s really alive in here someplace? Not a brain in a jar, but like...I dunno. A popsicle caveman? Saw that in a comic, once.”

Winding herself back down with flights of fancy and half remembered amusement in old comic books.

The basement, unlike the opulent nature of the main floor and, Kara imagined, the presidential suite he’d offered them-was rather bare bones. Some old tech, sure, but mostly heavy, thick stone walls and impressive looking doors akin to what she’s seen in bunkers.

There were robots down here too. Just two that she could immediately see-the elevator stopped on a raised metal walkway, and down over the railing there was a little training ground thing, sandbags and brightly painted red targets.

The Securitrons within it sat dormant and curled in a little. Other than their boots on the metal, it was quiet. Kara lingered at the railing only a moment or two before she turned her head and saw a promising door labeled ‘Maintenance’ at the end of the walkway. Seemingly satisfied with their being alone and on their way to escape, she gave that familiar tug to the front of her lucky jacket (the pauldron and various medals and pins clinking a bit) and started towards it with particularly extra pep to that lazy saunter.

“Boy was HE barking up the wrong tree.” Kara finally starts with a bit of a laugh. “Trying to appeal to...what up there, exactly? I was thinking dirty thoughts right then, not about the Khans.”

Ah. The redhead took issue with being called out, and was looking to settle accounts about that for principles sake. Of course.

Granted, little strange given the audience was the two of them and a door, but still-Kara always seemed to want to justify things, make them fit to the story she had in mind. She hadn't liked that. She hadn't liked that at all.

"Can't believe he wasn't even mad! That was anybody else, I woulda been talking my way out of an execution, swear."

 

[Obuzeti]

"There's enough personality in this room without a fucking unicycle cowboy getting involved," Moray drones. "I just prefer to limit the amount of exasperation I have to deal with at once."

His stance changes; thumbs hooked into belt, brow furrowed, eyes hooded, back tight and straight. It's an eerily familiar position, and it takes a moment to hit that this is exactly how he looked all the time before getting to know Kara - like the stick up his ass had calcified. He stares at the elevator door like it'd done him a personal injustice.

He reaches up and settles the eagle pin inside of his fatigues, just a tap of the finger.

"Ah, so not both at the same time?" Moray says, following her out as he surveys the basement they'd been emptied out into. "Tribal chiq not doing it for you anymore, then?"

He stalks forward, tries one door, jerks the handle when it doesn't work, then back up two steps and gets a running start before he jams his boot into the handle. It squeaks hard with gathered rust but doesn't budge. Moray gives it a dissatisfied, gimlet eye, but moves onto a mirror tunnel on the other side. This one opens into deserted maintenance tunnels, just empty, faintly foul-smelling concrete, damp ceilings, and stacked boxes that have either rotted away or are bare skins on top of their contents, usually ruined themselves. It's easy to believe no one has been down here since before the War.

"Get going," he says, impatient, and jerks his head towards the entrance before he prowls through, pistol already slinging out into his hand as he scans for anything hostile - who knows what that could be, but judging from the way the big man silently slinks on his boots, it's easy to tell he's looking forward to it.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“It’s the facepaint!” Kara lights on the farce immediately, gleeful as ever when Jonah pretends at something, and ready to bury whatever evidence House felt he had regarding her character in as much bullshit as possible. “You bed down some cutie pie with a sharp toothed smile drawn over her lips, maybe diamonds over the eyes-and BAM! Wake up next to some bare faced old hag and paint all over your fun bits.”

Kara shakes her head ‘knowingly’, amused smirk quirking her lips. “I’m all about interesting strange, but there’s limits.”

In actuality, she’s never really thought of a woman like that in her life, oddly enough. For all her hedonistic tendencies, some things just didn’t appeal...and come to think of it, half the time she hadn’t really been thinking about MEN that way either, for all her flirting! Scenery. That’s all they’d really been before Jonah. Just scenery.

The maintenance tunnel has that abandoned sort of scent to it, a kind of musty, dusty stillness. Kara slips on in behind him, head cocked to listen and her lips closed for once-but it’s pretty damned abandoned.

“At least it’s facepaint. The Fiends and...some other people I knew? Done made that shit permanent, needles and ink. Not me though, other than my sun-I wouldn’t wanna cover up all this, you feel me?” Incessant, empty chatter, but Kara doesn’t poke fun like she might have before. That HE should get himself tattoo’d up with hearts and teeth and diamonds. Then again, Kara’s long since pulled the man into her side of the joke, even before they got as close as they were.

A hatch is already open to some dark pit below, and Kara circles around it while she finds and clicks on her flashlight/booklight combo. Peering down at the small patch of concrete illuminated by the overhead lights of this room, she tucks the flashlight into the small pocket sewn onto the upper arm of her sleeve before rummaging around for the map stolen from Nero.

She takes a step closer so he can peer at it over her shoulder. “I shoulda brought mine-but to be honest, I only really poked around under the Embassy and then The Tops. Was originally hoping there was more to Vault 21, but nope-House really did fill that sucker with concrete.”

 

[Obuzeti]

"I think it's that you keep licking the face paint. God knows what they use to mix it," Moray says. "Could be peyote for all we know. Would explain their taste in guests."

He catches her shoulder and pulls her back from the tunnel - not hard, but firm - and immediately starts down it, glancing around as he descends. "Yes," he says to her quip about tattoos, which isn't quite as stand-offish as he wants, but then he agrees with her. Kara's skin, bare and gleaming and clean, probably ranks as his favorite thing in the universe. He's not eager to mar that with anything else, and he's also not prone to sharing the sight with someone else so they can mar it.

At the bottom, he waits until Kara descends, then jerks his head as he moves deeper into the tunnel. This far down it's sewer access and foundation, nothing but bare concrete - no one's carrying crates or boxes up and down those ladders. It's cramped and empty, but there's no wiring or cables this far down, and nothing to bug that would send a signal through all that concrete. The air is stagnant, but somehow it feels like Jonah can breath easier down here without the suffocating attention of House.

He leads them both into the first chamber past the ladder, then leans back against the wall and just gathers Kara into his arms for a moment, hugging her tight - silent and reassuring.

House had pressed much harder and farther than Jonah is likely to forgive.

"You good?" he murmurs, chin atop her red blaze of hair, arms looped around her shoulders. She fits just right under him, her spicy scent driving back the musty stank of the tunnel as he noses into her mane.