Swank stopped cold in his doorway upon finding his "baby" brother sprawled in a chair in the suite's living room, an empty Scotch bottle on its side on the table and another, half gone, in Benny's hand. He looked like hell. "What gives? An hour ago you were grinnin' like an idiot and hellbent on setting up some kind of big stupid date tomorrow night. Where's Honor?" He looked around, but his brother's better half- much better, some would say, including Swank at times- was nowhere to be seen.

Benny took a long drink as answer.

"Benny?"

"She's gone." Benny stared at a spot on the floor, his voice distant and cracking.

This brought Swank up shorter than the sight of his brother getting hammered in his room. "Gone? There's gotta be some mistake..." The woman was always haring off with her wasteland friends, but her devotion to Benny was legend. She would never just leave him.

On the other hand, Swank reminded himself, Benny could be, and often went out of his way to be, an ass. Could be she finally got fed up and walked.

Benny shook his head; Swank could practically hear it sloshing. "Naw. Sh'sgone. Out with her friends, she said."

Whew. That was a relief. If Honor left- well, Swank knew he'd be the one to pick up the pieces, and he hoped things didn't come to that. Benny had been a pretty thoughtful kid, a little more emotional maybe, until the Mojave beat it out of him. This dame of his had turned him on his head, found that part of him and brought it back to life. Benny threw tantrums that rivaled radstorms if a woman had the nerve to walk out on him before he was done with her. If he lost one that actually mattered to him, Swank did not want to be around to see the aftermath. "So she's comin' back."

"Not in time," Benny slurred. "Not comin' back until mornin' after." He looked up at Swank, dark eyes lost. "She forgot, Swank. Never thought...she forgot."

Swank sat opposite Benny and took the bottle from his hand, taking a sip before replying. "Not like it's a hard set date," he reasoned. "I mean, anniversary of you givin' her that ring? Shit, better than that, you puttin' one on for her...that's a date to remember. Besides, she's still new to this relationship thing, right? Give her some time to figure it out."

Benny just looked at him like he was the stupidest person on earth, and boy, did Benny have that look perfected. "What gal in love don't remember gettin' together with her man?"

Swank sat back and took another drink. With someone else, they'd be talking about the first time the broad got banged. But with Benny and Honor, it was a far greater milestone.

The day she'd found Benny drowning at the Bighorner and handed him Vegas.

It was a monumental day for the entire Mojave; Swank was a little surprised the city council hadn't received more requests to make it an official holiday. The region had done nothing but improve by leaps and bounds since The Courier- Honor to the Chairmen and her friends- had repelled the NCR and the Legion, and put House down like the dog he turned out to be. Benny'd had plans, he said, and Vegas was glittering under the change in management.

Frankly, Swank was disappointed that Honor had forgotten the date, too. And not just because of what it was doing to his little brother whom, honestly, he loved dearly.

It was going to be a long, liquor filled night.

Swank finally got Benny to go to his own suite while he could still walk. Benny couldn't sleep, though, and wound up opening another bottle and settling in on one of the couches to wait out the night in the dark. He wasn't half through with the scotch when he heard muffled voices at the door. Honor, and...Tommy? His mouth dropped open. Honor never lied to him. Never.

Or at least, he'd never known her to.

Hushed voices, a suppressed giggle from his pussycat- from his Honor. The only time she ever giggled was at something he said, or when talking about him. Showing that vulnerable, girlish side for another man?

For one of his Chairmen?

In spite of the alcohol dulling him, he seethed. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that he, of all people, had been played by a dame.

The door opened quietly and Honor snuck through into the dark room. He waited until she closed the door behind her, then stood and turned on the standing lamp.

She jumped and yelped at being discovered. "Benny! What are you doing up so late?"

He didn't reply, and from the change in her expression, he knew she realized that he was furious. She seemed genuinely concerned, then pretended realization. "I, uh, ran into Tommy on the way up here. Veronica says hi-"

"Tommy's room isn't on this floor." He crossed his arms. Goddamn she was an actress, her confusion and empathy so real he almost melted. He couldn't believe he was standing here having his heart broken by this woman, the first woman in his life besides Maddie he'd ever trusted.

"No, I know. He walked me upstairs."

He couldn't listen to this. He couldn't hear her voice, see her lips lying to him. He turned his back and stalked away. "I'm sure you needed the protection." He didn't turn to her again, just fell into their bed- his bed- and waited for the booze to work. He fell asleep without knowing if she came to bed with him.

He woke late the next day, still clothed and suffering from a ruthless hangover. Honor was gone. Her side of the bed looked slept in, but sprawled as he was, he could have been the one who rumpled it. He checked his watch and groaned inwardly. He'd slept through the entire day, if you could call unconsciousness from near-alcohol poisoning "sleep."

Somebody knocked at the front door, the sound drilling through his head. "Hey, Benny." It was Swank. "You need to come down to Aces. Tommy's got a couple new acts he wants you to check out."

He thought about ignoring him, but he was still head of the Chairmen, still had to approve business decisions. He trusted Tommy (to a point, he thought bitterly, now) to know a good act when he saw one, but he still had to give final approval before someone could draw a paycheck from the casino. Besides, he needed to get rid of this headache, and the hair of the dog...

He dragged himself up, made a half hearted attempt at bathing and shaving, dressed and headed downstairs. Swank waited for him outside Aces and scowled when he saw him, leaving the wall he was bracing up to meet Benny part way and straighten his tie. "You look like shit."

"Same as I feel," Benny replied, ignoring the tidying and pushing past to the door.

He sat in the back, gesturing to the bartenders to start it coming and keep it coming. Swank sat with him, shooting him not-at-all furtive glances as the first act came out. Benny hardly paid attention, instead letting his gaze and thoughts wander. He frowned when he spotted Honor's friends in the crowd. They were clearly enjoying themselves, perhaps oblivious to the fact that Honor had used them in a lie to cover her infidelity the night before. She wasn't with them, either. At least he knew she wasn't with Tommy. He snorted to himself. Maybe she was with someone else entirely tonight. He'd always figured if she left him, she'd go to Charon; maybe that's where she was right now. (No, Charon was with her friends. Maybe one of his other boys. Maybe one of the Kings. Who knew.)

He had to make a decision. Tonight. He'd worried plenty about losing her- to the Legion, or the NCR, or deathclaws, or even his own stupidity. He'd never once thought he'd have to consider being the one who did the leaving. But could he live with her, knowing she was two-timing him?

Could he live now without her?

He'd basically confronted her last night, and she'd feigned ignorance. Innocence. He'd have to press the issue tonight, make her talk to him, make her confess what she'd done.

And then what?

Leave?

Throw her out?

He swallowed hard.

Forgive her?

She'd forgiven him for shooting her in the head. He owed her a pardon, didn't he?

'Course, what he'd done, he'd done in ignorance. She'd gone out of her way to hurt him. To devastate him like this. Could that be forgiven?

God help him, he didn't think he could turn loose of her. Not yet.

His eyes stung and he took another healthy gulp of scotch. What had she brought him to, that he'd stay with a dame who slept around on him?

Tommy came out on stage and the room dimmed until he stood in the light from a baby spot. He shielded his eyes and peered into the dusky crowd. "Is the boss man here tonight? Benny, cat, you out there?"

Swank cut his eyes over at Benny, who hadn't moved. When it became clear that he had no intention of answering, Swank gestured for him.

"There he is!" People in the crowd turned to see where Tommy was looking, to get a glimpse of the man who owned the Mojave. Benny ignored them. It was all he could do to refrain from getting up and leaving. But he was a public figure now, and couldn't walk away, not in a situation like this. "There he is. Benny, boss man, I know this is a big day for you, for the whole Mojave, and to celebrate we've got a special act tonight, just for you." He gestured off stage and the back curtain, which almost never saw use, slowly rose as he exited, revealing a small orchestra. The baby spot swept back to encircle a woman with her back to the audience, wearing a strapless, slinky black gown that dipped dangerously low in the back and hugged every curve of her body like it had been painted on. Her red hair shone under the lights, piled atop her head in a mass of pleasing curls, and as she bent forward to speak to the piano player he couldn't help but appreciate her body; it reminded him of Honor's perfect hourglass.

Great. It had started already; everything was reminding him of her.

The woman turned back to the audience as the band started playing softly. His eyes swept up her body to her ample bust, up alabaster shoulders, to Honor's face.

For the second time in as many days, his jaw dropped. It was his pussycat. On stage. In the spotlight. She hated attention. What the hell was she doing? The band played the opening strains of "Come Rain or Come Shine," and she glided up to the microphone and began singing.

He'd never heard her sing before. She detested her own voice, but the rough edges she insisted she heard in it turned smoky in song, a throaty and dark caress as she crooned the love song. He glanced at the edge of the stage where Tommy and the rest of the Rad Pack stood grinning, some watching her, some watching him. Tommy beamed with pride, and all at once her phrasing struck familiar chords and he realized what had happened.

She'd been sneaking away to learn this song. Tommy had been teaching her to sing, teaching her stage presence. Her reluctance to speak to crowds gave way to a seduction of the audience, her moan of a voice pulling them in as surely as if she'd had them on strings. But she wasn't watching the audience.

She only watched Benny.

Now he did melt. He'd suspected her when all the time his pussycat had been planning this to surprise him, to please him. He felt like a bastard for doubting her, and his mind spun through possibilities for making it up to her as she drifted dreamily through her song. When she neared the end, the second refrain of the line "But I'm with you always, I'm with you rain or shine," she put such heartfelt emphasis on the word always that he felt his eyes burning again. He didn't bother wiping them.

He hoped she could see them shine in the darkness for her.