Author's Note: I truly apologize to those of you who have waited much too long for this chapter to arrive. I don't wish to blather on much about how bad everything's been the past year, as this is a website to sit down and have fun without worrying much about the horrors of the real world.

That aside, this is my first fanfiction and I fully intend on finishing it. Newer chapters hopefully shouldn't take as long to come out as this one has. I've just been stuck in a rut as of late. However, I don't wish to bore you much more, and long, drawn out author's notes such as this will not be common for my story. I will also apologize if it seems as if this chapter jumps around a bit, pieces of were written on and off over the course of the past year.

Thank you all for your reviews and continued support. It truly means a lot to me.

"Well this is stupid..." Six growled as he looked over his new outfit choice, with the Courier finding it hard to break away from the armor he'd worn for who knows how long now. It had been about two days since he and his group had made a proper plan for dealing with Mike, and currently they were all out finding disguises. He himself was stuck with a certain spider.

He was in a changing room, while Angel stood outside, waiting at the thin door that separated him from the demons' view. Angel himself tried prying said door open multiple times, but Six himself had made sure to lock it as he pondered over what to wear. Six was actually surprised that there was some semblance of decency left in Hell, though he supposed some demons were moderately civilized no matter what, though it wasn't like he was complaining.

He went for something simple, taking a black suit and tie combo. It reminded him of the many pre-war suits he'd come across, though this one was obviously pristine by comparison, with not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere on it. He slowly began removing his riot gear, exposing his tanned skin to the air. He briefly gazed at his scar covered body in a large mirror nearby, before shrugging the image off. There were dozens if not hundreds of scars covering him. As a matter of fact, it seemed as if he had more scar tissue covering him than undamaged skin. He didn't mind much though, given he'd seen them enough to be more than familiar with them.

He neatly folded his riot gear, before setting it aside, along with him placing his helmet on top of the neatly folded armor. Beside his armor, he sat his Pip-Boy, and beside that, he sat his boots. Now he had an all black suit covering him, along with some black dress shoes. He also had the foresight to bring a pair of black leather gloves. He didn't know if they checked for fingerprints in Hell, but he'd wear these to make sure. Aside from that he put on a pair of darkened sun glasses. He looked over himself in the mirror. Despite taking as many precautions as he could to hide his face, he still felt as if something was missing.

He ran his right hand over the scars adorning his face. The strange texture of the leather made him feel unsure about his disguise. Thus, he had one last idea. He reached into a pouch in his riot gear, before pulling out a small, vial of red liquid. It was something he'd learned from the tribes of Zion.

It was red war paint. While something would've been seen as barbaric and out of style in the modern day, in the apocalypse, such an item had been reintroduced. A strange idea, the new inhabitants of the Wasteland, using centuries old traditions to rise from the ashes of a modern world.

Regardless, the Courier soon was painting as much of his face as he could with the red face paint. He soon looked almost like a demon himself, though of course, he only had enough of said paint for his face and most of his neck. He also left his eyelids barren of the paint, due to the sunglasses covering them.

His face was soon fully coated in the liquid, and the Courier looked over himself one last time, before nodding. He then went to leave the dressing room. However, the second he opened the door, Angel Dust fell face first onto the Courier. The spider had been leaning against the door the second the mailman opened it. Six stumbled, but didn't fall as he growled, pushing the spider back, to which the demon gave an embarrassed chuckle.

"What the hell were you doing?" Six growled. "There's not even a peephole anywhere around here."

"W-wait, you checked?" Angel asked, making the Courier facepalm. "Eh, anyways, what's with the get up? You lather yourself in paint or something?" Said Angel, reaching to poke at the Six's face, only for the Courier to grab his hand. Angel cringed at the strong grip, before the wastelander huffed and gently shoved him away.

"It's not fully dry yet." He said. "If I want to blend in, I can't have my skin tone all runny now can I?"

Angel stared at him in silence for a second, before nodding and giving a teasing smirk.

"I get ya… but jeez, you ain't gotta be that rough… not yet at least." Said the spider.

"Oh shut it and let's get going." The Courier said, giving a shrug, before he grabbed his typical armor, gathered it into a large bag and walked past the spider. However, he paused, and quickly turned to Angel midway through.

"Uh… you have me covered, right?" Six asked.

"Yeah sure. With Cherri's money of course." Angel responded, giving a small chuckle.

"Nice." Said Six, before using his freehand to make a finger gun gesture at the spider.

"W-What are you doing?" Angel asked, looking at the gesturing, glasses wearing wastelander.

"It's like… a gesture friends use to signal to each other… right?" Six asked, still holding the finger gun.

"I mean, yeah, but… why?" Angel responded.

"I thought it'd look cool." Six shrugged, finally dropping his imaginary weapon/greeting.

"You're like one of those dads who attempt to act "hip with the kids" aren't you?" Angel asked.

"I mean I-You know what, let's just go and get back to Cherri." The Courier said, interrupting himself.

"Yeah, let's just do that, before she gets pissed." Angel said, before the two continued on.

Hazbin's lobby, a few hours later

"You know, I doubt this'll be an effective disguise." Husk said, as he put on a small, white masquerade mask. Given that his normal attire was similar to that of a suit. His outfit didn't change much, though the same couldn't be said of his companions.

Niffty was in a fancy white dress, which sparkled like a diamond, while her hair was put back into a tiny ponytail. Vaggie herself wore a similar dress, though hers was a deep crimson, and her hair still hung down as normal.

"Remind me why I have to wear a dress again?" She asked, turning to Angel.

"Well, since everyone else is dressed up, it'd just look weird if you didn't have one." He said.

"But I'm going to be cooped up in a van the whole night." Vaggie responded.

"Doesn't mean you shouldn't look fabulous!" Responded the spider demon.

"Why aren't you wearing an outfit then?" She asked.

"Oh baby, trust me, I don't need an outfit to look my best." He said, running a hand down his curvy body.

Vaggie just responded by shaking her head while growling in annoyance, before the Courier walked up to the duo.

"So, the van's big enough to fit everyone, right?" Six asked, looking between the duo, his darkened shades stuck out against his now red face and made it easier to see that the black lenses were reflecting the two's images.

"Yeah, don't worry, I made sure to steal-er… I got it from a good dealer." Angel said with a wink, making the Courier sigh, though the wastelander didn't comment further.

"Good, we've got what, an hour left before the party?" He questioned, getting a nod from Vaggie, who checked a small, fancy looking pocket watch.

"Well, a bit over that but yeah, we've got time." She confirmed.

"Alright… Where's Cherri?" He asked, looking around.

"Ah, she's just outside, making sure the backup plan is ready." Assured Angel.

"Backup plan?" Six asked.

"Don't worry about it." Said the spider with a smile, though the Courier could see a bit of psychopathic glee in said grin. Regardless, he nodded and continued on, going over everyone's outfits and such.

"Everyone know their places?" The Courier said as the group gathered round, with the wastelander, getting nods from the lot, apart from Husk, who shrugged in affirmation.

"Good… let's get to it." Six said, before the "criminal masterminds" exited the hotel's lobby.

The second they did however, what they saw gave them pause. Instead of a decent looking getaway vehicle, what was parked in front of Hazbin was an old, beaten up white van. Well, it would be white, had it not been for the excessive amount of dirt covering practically every inch of it. As it was, it was more of a dirty beige color, with splotches of dirt here and there.

It didn't help that said van's bumpers both looked like they were about to fall off simultaneously, and the wheels were covered in dried mud. The few windows on the already crappy looking vehicle were cracked, or practically gone. Instantly the whole group turned to Angel, who gave a nervous smile.

"Hey… it was on 'sale.'" He assured, before Husk threw his hands into the air in annoyance.

"I knew I should've gotten a limo from Charlie..." Vaggie said, rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"Alright, I'm not even wasting my time on this shit." Husk growled and turned to leave, though Niffty grabbed onto his wrist, using her surprising strength to keep him in place.

"Oh come on Husk, it won't be that bad… with a few… dozen trips to the car wash..." She tried to assure, though the tiny demoness herself was faltering.

Suddenly though, one of the back doors of the crapmobile opened up, and out hopped Cherri Bomb.

"Alright!" She began loudly, catching everyone's attention. "I know this looks shitty… but on further inspection, I've found it's not THAT bad." Assured the criminal.

"How so?" Asked the Courier, going up to investigate the van. He'd seen cars in better condition back in the Mojave, and that was saying something, considering almost all of those were scrap metal husks that'd barely even qualify as a vehicle.

He looked into the interior of the van and found it was relatively clean, though barren, with only two seats at the front. Riding with the whole crew would be a bit of a bitch, however, he saw why it wasn't exactly "that bad." Six gave a long, impressed whistle and spoke.

"That plan B?" He asked, his tone sounded just as impressed as his whistle. As he spoke, something shiny glinted off of his glasses.

"Yeah. Took a bit of work and a bit of time crunching, but I got it done." Cherri said.

"Maybe this plan can work after all..." Six mused with a smile.

A block away from Mike Hawk's hotel party

"You think you would've gotten an extra seat or two through this whole plan!" Complained Husk, as he was huddled up in the back of the van, with both Six and Angel Dust squishing into either side of him as they had to make room for "Plan B."

"Oh quit your bitching. A bit of skin to skin contact won't kill ya!" Responded Cherri, who was also in the back, though she had her own side of the van, while the three men were stuck together. In the front was Niffty in the passenger seat, a seat belt wrapped around her tiny body and Vaggie, who was driving.

The winged demon cringed as they took a sharp turn, and Angel pressed into him, making Husk growl out of instinct. He felt the spider's overly soft hair rub against his own skin and jerked away, only to slam into the tuxedo clad Courier.

"Watch it." Said the wastelander, himself shifting away from Husk before he glanced out of the windows on the van's back doors. "We've only got a few more minutes and we're free."

After that, the group went silent, though Husk still fidgeted here and there as he felt squished in between the wastelander and the perverted spider. A few minutes later they stopped in an alleyway a little under a block away from the hotel that the event was to take place in. Husk himself rushed out the van's back door, taking deep breaths as he dusted himself off. Angel and the Courier exited next, followed by Cherri and Niffty.

"We are never doing anything like this ever again." Husk growled.

"Oh shut it." Cherri growled, as the Courier straightened his tie. As he did, he seemed to make sure the material was firm as he tugged at it. Finding it to his satisfaction, he nodded as he, Husk, and Niffty split off from Angel and Cherri.

The three soon were waiting in a moderately long line in front of the hotel. There were about twenty people in it when the three arrived and as they waited, about a dozen more wound up behind the Courier. Some gave him an odd look, given his war paint made his skin look a bit like it was cracking, but everytime he gave them a smile, showing his equally dried, dehydrated looking lips, they typically turned away or ignored him. It was Hell after all, and for some, skin care wasn't the most important thing.

"Next!" Called the red, muscular demon standing as a bouncer.

"Alright, time to shine..." Six said as he looked over the guard.

He towered over the Courier by a few feet, though Six still knew he could take something that big if needed. Niffty was ahead of the two men, thus she went first. She stood at the demon's feet, and gave him a small smile and wave. She instantly was accepted into the party by the large monster as the Courier nodded. Husk then approached the large creature, who looked over the dog-like demon for a second. He even patted the winged demon down quickly, though it wasn't the most thorough search, likely due to Husk growling.

"Hmm… what's with the mask?" He asked, looking at Husk's masquerade mask.

"What?" The winged demon said.

"I feel like you're a bit suspicious with it on..." Responded the bigger demon.

"What good is a mask going to do? I'm willing to bet I'm the only cat with wings for a solid mile." Responded Husk.

"Wait, you're a cat?" Asked the guard, getting an annoyed look and silence from the apparent cat demon… who just so happened to look like a Husky.

After a moment of silence and hesitation, the guard soon nodded, letting Husk in, before calling for the Courier. After quickly patting him down, he spoke.

"Jeez, you should really put on some lotion." Said the guard.

"I will, I just… have a condition." Said the Courier.

"Is it spreadable? I don't want you getting me sick." Responded the demon, wiping his hands on his pants.

"If I were contagious, I wouldn't be here." The wastelander retorted.

"Alright… What's with the glasses?" Questioned the demon.

"They're my lucky shades sir… I was hoping to get them autographed by Mike Hawk himself." Said Six, pulling out a white marker.

The demon stared at him for a moment, before finally nodding as Six smiled and entered. As he walked into the decent sized lobby, he was hit with a sense of familiarity for some of the casinos he'd been to on the New Vegas strip. This hotel itself was two stories, with the second one being on a large overhanging balcony that overlooked the entire ground floor.

Aside from that, there were dozens of tables on both floors, covered in fine silverware, candles, and such. What caught the Courier's eyes the most though were the vases of strange, exotic looking flowers. The botanist in him wanted to see if they had more features beyond looking pretty or acted identically to those back on Earth, but he just kept interest bottled up in him as he continued on.

However what he saw next was also quite familiar. It was a decently sized stage, with a microphone and several instruments strewn about. However, at the moment, said stage seemed free reign. There was even a decently sized television screen behind said stage that read.

"No band tonight

Karaoke welcome!"

The Courier just continued on, and he soon met back up with Husk and Niffty who were waiting at a small circular table draped with a deep red, yet silky smooth looking table cloth. Sat atop said table cloth were several decent sized champagne glasses, each one filled with various samplings of the finest wine and champagne that Hell had to offer.

The Courier, though desiring to try said drinks, found himself abstaining, given if his lips became runny with paint, his disguise would be blown. This of course, didn't stop Husk from soon downing an entire glass and moving onto another.

"Alright, look, you might not wanna be chugging that stuff while we're on the job." Six said, merely getting a hand wave from the winged demon.

"Oh if you think any of this light weight shit is gonna make a dent in me, you're out of your fucking mind." Responded Husk.

"Look, there'll be a time for booze later, for now, stick to your plans." Six said, before Niffty began gently tugging at one of his pant legs.

"Ohh, if I'm doing distraction, does that mean I can go sing karaoke now?" She asked like an excited child would, pointing at the stage Six had examined earlier.

"Well, you got your piece on you for when things go south?" Six asked, before she smiled and flashed a snub nose revolver at him.

"Alright, go ahead and get to singing, Husk, go take out a waiter. Once you're nice and dressed, spike the drink after fifteen minutes." Said Six, before quickly turning and walking away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Asked Husk.

"Going off book really quick. Don't worry, I've got a back up if things go to shit." Said the Courier, before quickly walking away.

As he did, Husk watched as Niffty practically pushed a guy off of the microphone and lowered it to her level. She then began her song.

Six quickly found himself on the second floor of the large, open ballroom, looking down on the many well dressed guests with his keen eyes. Even through his glasses he was quite skilled in noticing smaller details others might miss.

He watched as a few guards kept watch on the ground floor, and made sure to memorize as much of their patterns as he could. There were about eight or so he could make out at the moment, one for each corner of the building, and then another four for each flat side. They seemed to be moderately stagnant, though they did walk around every few seconds, about a dozen feet apiece.

He then looked around and found that the guards on the top layer were more sparse, with two or three walking around. However, he did note one was standing right next to a metal door that read simply.

"Employees Only."

In big, bright red letters.

"Perfect." Six mused. As he inconspicuously made his way over to the room.

Soon enough he was only about a foot or so from the door, sampling a plate of small cubes of cheese and meat. He had to admit that the food was good, but he did wonder what it was made from, given that the animals in Hell likely were quite different from the Mohave's Bighorners and Brahmin.

However, once all eyes were off him, he dropped a piece of meat under the table. After acting surprised, the Courier quickly ducked under said table in an attempt to retrieve the meat. However, the second he was out of sight, he quickly pulled out a small, strange looking device.

It was a wrist worn device with a large, satellite looking dish sticking up from it. Said dish also refracted light like that of a disco ball. Several small buttons beeped along the device, right beneath a keypad of several buttons.

The device was a Stealth Boy.

"Alright, go time." Six said, psyching himself up before...

He vanished.

Well, vanished isn't the proper term. More aptly, all light coming towards him was reflected back, giving him the impression of being invisible. Six then quickly rolled back out from under the table, disturbing the cloth as little as possible as he did, before he quickly yet carefully made his way over to the employee's door. As he did, he listened in on the guard.

"Yeah, Mike, get over here, I'm on lunch." Said the demon, making the Courier smile as the demon turned away, likely watching out for his buddy.

As he did this, the Courier soon was picking at the lock on the door. While said lock was quite secure, compared to his lock cracking skills, it stood no chance, and moments later, the door swung inward, letting the Courier slip into the guards room.

"What the hell? This lock busted or something?" Asked another demon guard who had just arrived, likely Mike, if the other one was to be believed.

"Dunno, it's your problem for the next forty minutes. I'm gonna get some of that champagne." Said the other guard, before Mike shut the door, leaving the Courier alone.

He looked around and found himself in a long, relatively dark and dingy hallway, lined with several doors. He slowly made his way through the hall, looking through each. The first was a broom closet, and contained nothing of interest. Though the Courier did check to see if there was Abraxo cleaner, and wound up quite disappointed to find nothing.

Regardless, he moved on and searched the second room. This one seemed to be a guard lounge. However, inside it was only dimly lit by a small, boxy television set. Said television illuminated a massive demoness sitting on a couch obviously too small for her.

She reminded Six of a combination of a deathclaw and an amazoness from the legends of old. She was wearing a guard uniform, though said uniform struggled against her bulging muscles. The only things that gave away the fact the large demon was a female was her long ponytail and the fact she soon swore.

"That cheap bastard better get a brand new TV from Vox or I'm putting my boot up his ass." She growled.

Six slowly crept out of the way of the door frame as he continued on.

Meanwhile with Husk

The winged demon stood in a bathroom, keeping an eye out for a waiter to enter. While he waited he attempted to be as inconspicuous as possible, and was thus leaning up against a nearby wall, checking his phone as he did.

Thankfully, he got lucky, and soon enough a waiter did indeed enter. Given the two were alone, it didn't take Husk long to walk up behind the employee and give him a hard punch to the back of the head. Instantly the waiter went down, and after a moment of hesitation to make sure he was out like a light, Husk quickly dragged him into a nearby stall, where he stole the waiter's vest.

With his disguise in place, Husk took his flask out and swished it, making sure it was still completely filled with the Courier's poison. After affirming the brew was ready, Husk made his way back out of the bathroom and into the lower dining hall.

Back with the Courier

Six entered the last door in the guard's quarters that he hadn't checked and finally found something worth investigating. A guard sat in an office chair, looking over a series of cameras. Thankfully though, he had earbuds in, and the Courier was easily able to sneak into the room.

The currently invisible man then reached an arm over the back of the office chair, letting him lock the guard in a choke hold. He struggled, of course, but given the Courier's physical prowess and the fact he'd done this almost a dozen times, it wasn't long before the guard went limp in the Courier's arm.

After making sure the demon was breathing, the Courier then shoved him and his chair aside, before looking over the camera footage. He saw Niffty, still singing on stage and smiled, seeing she had attracted a large crowd. He then soon found Husk, who'd dawned a waiter's vest. While he didn't know if the cat demon would be called out, he figured that the disguise could give the demon some leeway.

Regardless, he quickly found a computer and looked it over, being extremely impressed by the technology on display. The slimer design of it put the ones he'd found back in the Mojave to shame and it seemed a bit more complex to operate. Thankfully he was able to quickly crack the password to it. Moments later, every camera in the building had been shut down, and the footage erased.

While one would call it a case of paranoia, even in Hell, the Courier liked to make sure there'd be no loose ends to the job. Though of course, in his hacking vigor, he didn't notice as the large demoness from earlier come in until she was right at the door.

"Hey Phil, the remote's out of batteries, I ne-" She paused as she walked to find her fellow guard unconscious...

Then the Courier's Stealth Boy deactivated.

"Fucking bullshit." He growled, cursing his Luck.