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Arcade swung open the doors of the Old Mormon Fort and stepped out into the streets of Freeside, mentally cursing Veronica.
Normally, after a long day of unproductive research (which sometimes involved treating injuries whenever his fellow Followers were so swamped that Julie decided that the need for another doctor outweighed his abrasive bedside manner), he’d go back to the Lucky 38 and relax, maybe make a drink and chat with whoever else happened to be there. But today, here he was, making his way to the King’s School of Impersonation to see if he could get an audience with the very man himself.
All because Veronica wanted help training Rex. And he couldn’t fault her logic—where better to solicit advice than from Rex’s former owner? But she wasn’t the one who had to go talk to a man called “the King” who had named his dog Rex. Arcade supposed it was possible that Rex had already been thus named when the King had acquired him, but it did seem an unlikely coincidence. And not a little self-aggrandizing.
Nevertheless, he’d do many less savory things for Veronica than asking a gang leader for his animal handling expertise, so he soldiered on, the School of Impersonation coming into view as he walked.
A woman in the Kings’ trademark leather jacket was standing outside the front door, and gave Arcade a friendly nod as he approached. “You here to see the King?” she asked.
“How could you tell?” he remarked wryly.
“We don’t usually get many Followers here unless they’ve got business with the big man.” She shrugged. “Anyway, come with me; I can take you to him.”
“What, just like that?” Arcade asked, surprised. While he wasn’t exactly knowledgeable about the inner workings of Freeside’s favorite gang, he was sure that the King had to be a busy man. Not exactly someone with time to entertain any random person who wanted to have a chat.
She laughed. “Yeah, usually people have to wait, but it’s a slow day and the King likes the Followers; you guys do a lot of good. Plus, I figure it’s the least I can do since y’all stitched me up last week after a brawl with some unfriendly thugs.”
“Well, we do what we can,” Arcade replied. His efforts—and those of his fellow doctors—often felt futile and insignificant, so it was nice to see that they were making a difference, even if it was just providing medical attention to a gang member after she beat up a bunch of muggers. In Freeside, you learned to take what you could get.
“I’m Shawna, by the way,” she said as she led him inside the building.
“Arcade.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Arcade. The King should be just through here.” She led him through a doorway that opened out into a large room with a stage and several tables, with a bar at the back. Sitting at one of the tables was a man in a suit. It was hard to tell, since he was sitting down, but it was possible that he was even taller than Arcade.
He looked up at their entrance, and did a double take. His eyes widened as he looked Arcade up and down a few times, and a smile spread over his face. Maybe he was checking him for concealed weapons? Though that did seem a little unnecessary, since Arcade was sure that Shawna wouldn’t have brought Arcade in to see the King if she thought he was a threat. But maybe he was just the type to be thorough—an understandable, probably even necessary quality for someone in his position to have.
“Hey, Boss,” Shawna greeted. “This doctor’s here to talk to you.”
The King smiled, and Arcade had to blink to come back to himself. He suddenly understood why everyone said he was so charming. “I'm always happy to help the Followers. Come in, sit.” He gestured to the empty seat across from himself.
Arcade looked to Shawna, who nodded encouragingly, before leaving and closing the door behind her. Mentally shrugging, he walked over and sat down.
“Now, what do you like to drink?” the King asked.
Arcade blinked. “Um, I’m really okay with anything, but that’s not why I’m—”
He waved a hand, cutting Arcade off. “We’ll get to business in due time, but for now”—he turned to the bartender—“get us the house special, will you?”
She nodded, and began pulling bottles off the wall.
The King turned back to Arcade. “Trust me, you’ll like it. Marcella’s a dab hand at mixing drinks, and this is one of her best.”
“All right,” he agreed, feeling awkward and out of place on this unfamiliar ground and in the face of the King and Marcella’s clear camaraderie.
“Now, what’s your name?”
“I’m Arcade,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Well, Arcade”—the King took his hand, but instead of shaking it like a normal person, he pressed a kiss to the back of it—“it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Arcade stared, floored. He could tell from the burning of his face that he was probably bright red, but he couldn’t help it. Did the King do that to everyone he met? And if so, why hadn’t someone warned Arcade so he could’ve been prepared? Maybe then he’d have been able to do something other than stare like an idiot.
While he’d tried to think of what to say, the King’s face creases with concern. “I hope I haven’t overstepped...” he began.
“No, no, it’s fine,” Arcade managed, clearing his throat and hoping he didn’t look as flustered as he felt. “I just—um—wasn’t expecting that.”
“Well—” the King began, but before he could continue, Shawna opened the door again and poked her head around it.
“Sorry to interrupt so soon, but an NCR representative just got here. She wants to follow up on some details of the ceasefire; do you want to talk to her or do you want me to handle it?”
The King didn’t even look away from Arcade. “I’m afraid there are much more pressing matters for me to attend to here.” He winked, and Arcade could feel his face growing even hotter.
“Oh, I’ll just bet there are,” she smirked.
“I have full confidence in you, Shawna,” the King said. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind...”
She laughed. “All right, I’m going. See ya, King, Doc.” With that, she left, closing the door behind her.
“I’m sorry about that,” the King apologized.
“It’s fine,” Arcade responded. “Are you sure you don’t need to go deal with it, though?” He was sure that if it were something that truly required the King’s attention, he wouldn’t just ignore it to keep talking to a random doctor he'd just met, but it still sounded like the kind of thing that he might want to attend to himself. It was certainly more important than what he was doing now, at the very least.
“Not at all,” the King dismissed, still smiling at Arcade. “It’s not often I get the opportunity for pleasant conversation, and even less so with such a charming man.”
Arcade laughed nervously and adjusted his glasses, internally wincing. “Well, I’m not sure about that, but, um... thanks?”
The King laughed. “That’s all right, I can be sure enough for the both of us.”
Before Arcade had to figure out how to respond to that, Marcella plopped a drink down in front of him. He started. He hadn’t even heard her come over.
“Here you go,” she said, sliding it into his hands.
“Oh! Um, thanks?” He held it, unsure whether he should try it now or wait. Both the King and Marcella just stared at him, so he tentatively took a sip. “This is really good,” he complimented, impressed. It was a little sweet but not overpowering, with just enough tartness to give it a bite. The alcohol content was also absurdly high, but he figured that was probably the point.
Marcella grinned. “I’m good at my job; what can I say? Now,” she looked between the two of them. “Do you want some more drinks, or should I leave you two alone to get better acquainted?” Her voice was laden with innuendo, and she even wiggled her eyebrows a little, as if worried that her meaning would otherwise be unclear.
The King rolled his eyes fondly. “I think I can take it from here, Marcella.”
Her grin widened. “Sure thing, Boss.” With that, and another suggestive glance at the two of them, she left the room.
“So, Arcade,” the King began, seamlessly picking up from where they’d left off, “what do you do with the Followers?”
“Mostly just research,” he answered, deciding to follow the King’s lead and ignore Marcella’s behavior. “I am also a medical doctor, but my bedside manner is abysmal, so they usually keep me away from patients unless there’s something urgent going on.”
“Oh, but research is invaluable; how else would we ever progress?” the King countered. “What are you working on at the moment?”
Arcade shrugged. “Right now I’m trying to find alternative methods of medicine production. Xander root, for example, isn’t exactly plentiful, so if there were a way to make stimpacks using something else, that could help a lot of people.”
“A noble goal,” the King said, raising his glass in Arcade’s direction.
“Yeah.” Arcade sighed. “I just wish I were making more progress; it seems pretty futile at times.”
“And yet, you keep at it. I admire that kind of determination.” The King took a long drink from his glass. Despite his best efforts, Arcade’s eyes were drawn to the smooth lines of his throat as he tipped his head back.
The King placed his glass back on the table and looked back at him. Arcade frantically tried not to look like he’d been staring. He wasn’t sure it had worked, since the King grinned and leaned closer, propping an elbow on the table.
“So tell me, Arcade”—Arcade tried very hard to ignore how his name sounded in the King’s accent—“what do you like to do in your free time?”
“Actually, I’ve been traveling with the Courier recently,” Arcade replied, jumping at the opportunity to redirect the conversation to why he’d come in the first place. It’s not that he wasn’t enjoying the compliments, but he didn’t quite know how to deal with something that would, from anyone else, be considered blatant flirtation, but to the King was probably the equivalent to shaking hands before a business discussion.
“Oh really?” the King seemed pleased. “And how’s good ol’ Rexie doing?”
“That’s actually why I’m here—he’s fine!” Arcade hastened to clarify, seeing the King’s face morph into an expression of alarm. “But Veronica’s been trying to teach him some tricks and he hasn’t been picking them up very well, so she suggested I ask you for advice.”
“Why didn’t she come herself, if she was so determined?” the King asked, relaxing back into his chair.
Arcade shrugged. “I asked her the same thing.”
“Well, if it means that I get to meet you, then I, for one, am not complaining,” the King said, winking.
Arcade flushed. He didn’t know how to respond, so he desperately cast about for something to say.
“Did you seriously name him Rex?” he blurted, before wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.
The King laughed. “Yes, I heard that it was a popular name for dogs before the war. I didn’t find out what it meant in Latin until years later. I’m not surprised you do, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arcade warily asked, unsure how offended he should be. If the King thought that he was a pretentious nerd, that was one thing—and nothing new—but if he thought that Arcade had Legion sympathies and hadn’t immediately thrown him out... Well, this conversation was not going to end nearly as amicably as it had begun.
“Come on, a guy as smart as you? I’d be surprised if you hadn’t picked up some Latin over the years.”
That’s not what he’d expected. “Oh. Um. Thanks?”
“No need to thank me for stating the obvious,” the King said, shrugging. “Anyway, I wish I had better news for you, but Rex already knew how to sit when I got him, and I’ve never really tried to teach him more than that.”
Arcade sighed. That wasn’t what he’d hoped for, but he couldn’t say he was all that surprised. “All right, thank you. And I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time,” he said, making to stand up.
Before he could, however, the King grabbed his hand. Arcade sat back down. “There’s no need to leave so soon,” said the King, a smile curving his lips.
“Um,” Arcade eloquently managed. The King’s hand was still holding his. It was warm, and more callused than he would have imagined. Though he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised; the King didn’t seem the type to shy away from getting his hands dirty should the need arise.
Perhaps realizing that Arcade was currently incapable of saying anything coherent, the King took pity on him. “I find myself quite enjoying your company; it’d be a shame if you were to leave so soon.” Then he drew back slightly. “Of course, if you’d rather not—”
“No, that’s—I’m not—” Arcade interjected, trying to make some sort of sense. “I mean, I just assumed you’d have stuff you needed to get back to, or something. I’m sure you’re very busy; I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”
The King smiled again. “On the contrary, I’d like nothing more than to spend some more time with you. I know this is the first time you’ve visited the school; if you’d like, I could give you the tour.” He winked again, smile taking on a sly edge “The private tour.”
It was at this point that Arcade realized something that, upon reflection, should have probably been apparent sooner. “Oh,” he said, flushing.
The King raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” he repeated.
“No, that’s—I’d—” Arcade took a steadying breath. He smiled. “I’d love that.”
“Excellent,” the King said, pleased. He leaned closer. “Should we start with my bedroom?”
“I mean, you’re the tour guide,” Arcade demurred. “I defer to your expertise.”
.-.. .. -. . -... .-. . .- -.-
When Arcade got back to the Lucky 38 late the next morning, he ran into Veronica almost immediately.
“There you are, Arcade!” she said. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to. Did the King have any advice for us?”
“Not exactly,” he responded.
Her brow furrowed in confusion, but then she paused, and looked at him more closely, taking in his messy hair and rumpled clothing. The same clothing from yesterday. A grin spread across her features. “Arcade!” she cried in glee. “Oh my gosh! With the King? You need to tell me everything!”
Arcade sighed but figured that, since this was technically Veronica’s fault, she deserved to know a little. “He didn’t know anything to help with training Rex, but he was very... forthcoming in other areas.”
“Hell yeah he was!” She seemed more delighted he would’ve thought physically possible, but Veronica had always been rather ebullient. “Okay, c’mon Arcade, I need details; what was he like? Was he really as charming as everyone says?”
“Even more so,” Arcade replied honestly, ignoring how Veronica squealed with delight. “I can see why all of the Kings follow him. He’s very charismatic.”
“I love this so much, oh my god; you have no idea.”
Given that Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement, Arcade thought he had a pretty good idea.
“So, what was it like?”
Arcade shook his head, moving past her to the elevator. “Nope, that’s all you’re getting.”
“C’mon, Arcade,” she whined, following him. “How was it? Are you gonna see him again? Did he tell you his real name or did you keep calling him ‘the King’ in b—”
“Goodbye Veronica!” Arcade said loudly. The elevator doors closed behind him, leaving her on the other side.
After a moment, he chuckled to himself and leaned against the wall. Veronica was going to flip when he told her that the King had given him a standing invitation to visit the school whenever he pleased.
Still, sub silentio, sub rosa. And there was no harm in making her wait a little longer.