a/n: Do not own Fallout or any of the characters from Fallout.

"How are you still alive?" Arcade asked.

He tried to take the NCR ranger combat armor away from Courier Six, but she was too strong and too fast and too stupid to realize she was the reason the Legion was ready to eat them both alive. Who walks up to a Legion camp in full NCR gear expecting to just talk?

Arcade didn't have to check his pulse to know he was one beat short of a major coronary episode.

"What's your damage?" Courier Six asked, clutching the armor to her chest like it was the last fancy lad snack cake in all the Mojave.

"You can't wear that to talk to Caesar!"

"Watch me. I like it. Makes me look tough."

"If you wear that, every soldier in the Fort is going to think you're a Ranger. They will crucify you before you take two steps past the front gate."

Her face scrunched up like it always did when she was about to do something stupid and her eyes glazed over. God help him, but he knew the minute she barreled up to him in the Old Mormon Fort that she was going to get him killed. Watching her trade all her Rad-away to Julie while she was practically glowing with radiation poisoning should have been the first clue, but Arcade had always had a bit of a soft spot when it came to the deeply stupid.

"You worry too much," she said, gesturing to the Mark of Caesar she wore on a chain around her neck,"I have this thingy Vulpes gave me. Caesar invited me. You know this shiny thingy."

"The Mark of Caesar gets you an audience with Caesar. It won't protect you if you march in to Cottonwood dressed like Colonel Hsu's little darling," Arcade said, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the impending migraine, "You know what? Fine. Wear the damn combat armor, but do me a favor. If you're going to storm the Fort, take Boone instead. I'm allergic to getting needlessly slaughtered."

But something in Little Miss "I'm an idiot, please shoot me again" Six's head seemed to click. She gave Arcade that all too familiar slow smile, the same one that turned Benny's knees to jelly right before she snapped his neck.

"I'm an idiot," she said, "What would I do without you? Of course I can't wear NCR combat armor when I meet with Caesar! What was I thinking?"

The breath he'd been holding went out in a sweet rush. Maybe there was hope for her yet. She folded up the armor and stuffed it back her pack.

"Glad to hear it," he said, "We are just going there to talk, aren't we? You're not swearing your allegiance to Caesar or anything like that."

"Naw. Don't worry about it," she said, "I can't understand half the shit those motherfuckers are talking about. Mr. House wants me to do something with the chip. I'm not really sure what he was droning on about, but I figure it can't be too complicated. Probably just left a light on or something. I'll figure it out when we get there. Before we go, could you do me a little favor?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Since you talked me out of wearing that godawful combat armor, I need to pick something new to wear, something sharp, something that makes Caesar sit back and take notice, something that says "Don't worry, I'm just here on an errand. Pay no attention to me. I'm not your enemy." What do you think?"

When she held up the battered chest plate of her NCR salvaged power armor and the sleeve of her NCR Ranger patrol armor, Arcade knew it was hopeless.

"I think you hate me and you're trying to get me killed," he said.

She laughed. There was just no reasoning with her. God help them both.

"Patrol armor it is!" she said.