“Should be fine? Probably? I don’t want to get back in the armor either. I get so damn sweaty in that undersuit. Though we could go out on the strip this time. That dress would be wasted at the wrangler. I’m liking the idea of upscale bars and nicer food than canned pork and beans stewed with gecko meat.” Not that that was a bad meal, it’s a Mojave classic dish. But he deserves some fresh food and quality meat for once. They beat the legion! “We are rich now, lets act like tourists for once! we deserve it don’t we?”

He turns to one of the ever present Securitrons. “Yes Man, can you ask Ganon to tell us when he thinks he would be free to celebrate with us? And when hes free to check the wrangler for Cass and ask her if she wants to come celebrate with the rest of us too?”

He turns to Boone. “Come on buddy, wanna come celebrate? The guns can wait, and I bet theres gonna be a lot of guys we’ve fought with also celebrating out there right now.”

"Alright. Been a long time since I had something to celebrate." Boone must be happy: he's averaging more than three words per sentence, and his tone has gone from dour to merely sullen. He leaves the anti-materiel rifle behind, but takes his old hunting rifle. Just in case.

Veronica, properly clothed, moves to the elevator with a skip in her step. "I've never actually played tourist on the Strip before! Should we go to the Tops? Or maybe Vault 21? No, Sarah will be run off her feet tonight, the poor girl. What with her lack of staff, and I'm sure there are plenty of troopers who want a cheaper place to drink. Oh, but we should make sure to check in on her soon. You know, she might be the only owner here who loves the Strip for its own sake, instead of just the profit it brings her." Veronica keeps up a near-constant commentary until the trio steps out of the Lucky 38.

The Strip is awash with celebrating soldiers, and the Tops is raking in caps. From essentially the moment that Six steps out of the Lucky 38, he is greeted with cheers and slaps on the back. Some people are vaguely aware that some politics is happening, but that's essentially meaningless following the victory, in the presence of the heroes of Hoover Dam.

This, this is why he helped all those NCR people. Maybe the command staff have their brains rotted out, but the troopers have been fighting the legion and doing their best this whole war. “WE KICKED THEIR ASS! CEASER IS DEAD! LANIUS IS DEAD! THE LEGION IS CRUSHED! FREE DRINKS ON HOUSE’S DIME FOR ALL ENLISTED NCR SOLDIERS!” The commissioned officers can afford their own drinks. But the grunts deserve to party without the crazy strip drink prices. He can just afford to do stuff like that now. It’s awesome.

He makes sure to later wave down a Securitron to tell the casinos what he just promised and for them to send him the bill.

The cheer that goes up at that is, if possible, even bigger than earlier cheers for victory. For the next few hours, Six is the single most popular person in Nevada, at least as far as the troopers are concerned. One lieutenant elbows his way to Six to thank him for "saving me from having to pay for the platoon's drinks like I promised".

Many toasts are proposed: To the Courier, the Securitrons, and the Boomers; to fallen comrades and the Followers who prevented more from being lost; to the Rangers, First Recon, and Boone specifically. Ranger Hanlon gets a toast, as does Colonel Moore ("She's a bitch, but she's OUR bitch!"). Really, it's just an excuse to cheer and drink -- but still, mentions of General Oliver are conspicuous in their absence.

Arcade Gannon is wearing his nicest clothes: that is to say, he put on a clean labcoat. He walks into the Tops a little uncertain, but manages to find a corner reasonably close to Six and orders a drink.

Boone finds a table with a few members of First Recon, who are swapping tall tales with the easy invincibility of youth. He sits and listens, remembering a time, not too long ago, when he would have been telling stories with the best of them.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy staggers into the Tops and immediately sidles up to the bar. She seems to have concluded that she's close enough to an enlisted NCR soldier, if her purchases are anything to go by.

Exuberant celebration does not come naturally to Arcade, but he is, in fact, feeling quite elated. Not only was the Legion driven off, but it looks to him like Vegas might actually gain independence. There's much work to be done, but for now he's happy to simply enjoy the victory.

There is one celebratory action he wants to do. Which he's wanted to do for some time, now, truth be told. Unsure of himself, he mentally weighs the probable outcomes as he sips his drink.

Swank takes a moment from the interminable chaos of managing the event to come up to Six. "Hey, boss. I hear some things are getting a bit hot with the NCR. Free drinks is a smooth move. Long as the House is good for it, and I know you are, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." Suddenly summoned by a waving bartender, he quickly escapes to fix the latest logistical snafu.

With enough beer in him, and enough nostalgia for what he once was, Boone decides to tell First Recon his own story. Certainly not a serious one, not a story of the brutal reality of war. A story of the banal nonsense that is also, in many cases, the reality of war. The other snipers, curious at what the "old man" has to tell, listen closely as he begins.

"No shit, there I was..."

Veronica is having a great time. Approaching Cass, she more or less drags her bodily to the dance floor. Once there, though, Cass begins dancing up a storm, her gentle inebriated sway only adding some extra charm to her movements.

Still trying to settle the cost-benefit analysis, Arcade sees Veronica and Cass dancing with joyful abandon, and he suddenly makes a decision.

It's not that he's determined what the best outcome is, noticed some extra benefit, or convinced himself that the downside risk isn't all that bad. He simply finds that he no longer cares which action is optimal.

Turning to Six, Arcade kisses him, hard, on the lips.