Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What do you mean that women can’t fight in the arena? How do you think we survive out there?“

Six asked Otho with enough curiosity in her eyes to surpass the offence she took, eager to understand more of that parody of the Roman Empire everyone was so terrified about.
Something told her she should have been too, deep down, but maybe losing her memory to a bullet in her brain wasn't so bad if she could be useful to the Mojave as a whole.
But, before that, it was imperative she understood who she was dealing with and, finally devoid of any prejudice, matter-of-factly form an idea around the tribes and different political positions the various factions brought to the desert.

“I’m doing you a favor, refraining you from traumatizing yourself or getting killed by a mere recruit, woman.“

She could feel her hands tingle with the so pleasing desire of punching that stupid smile off of his face, but before she could even open her mouth, another voice added to the exchange.

“Otho, that’s not the best way to accomodate our favorite guest, is it? Choose your words carefully, Caesar puts his faith in this woman, no matter what you may think of others of her kind.“

Six turned to the source of that too familiar voice, ready to give him a piece of her mind with indignation written all over her face. What did "others of her kind" even mean?!
But as Vulpes stood right there, his perfect figure and pose almost fiery and elegant only accentuated by his sharp traits, all the big words and intentions fled her with their tails between their legs. A small consolation was found in the fact that he least never once actually berated her just for being born a woman, instead asking for her aid in spreading the message of the Legion, back at Nipton.

“Vulpes Inculta, right?” She asked carefully, in the attempt of remembering that name without butchering the pronounce.
“You are correct, Courier. May I lead your way to Caesar’s tent? It’s been a while since we met back in Nipton. And I wanted to make sure you don’t pull one of your funny tricks inside the camp.“

“It wouldn’t be so smart of me, would it? If I really had to do such thing I certainly wouldn't after accepting an official invite that alerts everyone in the camp of my presence-. “ She slightly dragged her words towards the end, looking away as if some grand plan nobody could have thought of escaped her lips. Reality was she couldn't help but feel nervous and pretty stupid around Vulpes.
That guy was creepy, from the way he thrived in the suffering he brought to the lands he conquered, to his calm and friendly demeanor so evidently cold and constructed to cover his most twisted and sick desires of serving the Legion in ways nobody could have better executed.

Vulpes had smirked so slightly in reply as he spoke with such a calm and soothing tone, yet the way every single hair on her skin jumped was anything but pleasing or comforted, adding to the situation the fact she was in a camp of slavers formed by athletic and capable men raised and trained as cold, methodical butchers.

“I still cannot believe a small woman like you was capable of such disturbance for the Legion. Hadn't I've seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t rely on my closest informant about it.
However, time is short, we can leave our little conversation for later. Follow me.“ He concluded without leaving space for any more words, not that Six had any of any sort in that moment.

She was pretty naive, could also be somewhat scatterbrained, but was not a complete fool. She understood her boots were stepping in what was basically a minefield ready to blow at any moment, had she set her foot the wrong way.
She just followed next to him as he lead her to Caesar’s tent, all while her eyes wandered around with finality. Every tent, every bonfire, woman, man, locker, bedroll. It could all be used with purpose if she mapped enough in her brain to form a general understanding of the encampment's layout.

Until she was standing in front of the man himself, surrounded by his closest men and guards, and every thought left her mind.

After the talk with Caesar, all she could feel was an impending and unshakeable sense of doom.

Wasn’t a bullet in the head already enough of a sudden and unwanted turn of event? She was fine helping locals as best as her job could assure her to do, catching any occasion in her way to try and gather her life and memories back, but that was something else. The Legion wasn't asking for a mere package delivery or a simple task in a nearby town. It demanded she destroyed her only way out of any future obligations with any of the major factions in the Mojave without even knowing it. One thing she had to give Caesar was his terribly good intuition. 

Not that a choice was still made, but time was needed to understand, to decide and carefully review what the best way to act would have been. Who would have been sacrificed, who would have survived, who was allowed to remain.

And the more Six rejected that choice to make, the more the collective seemed to push it upon her with each passing day, for some damn reason.

She found herself yawning after a long staring she gave to the camp, speechless and motionless, head full and heavy as her eyes scanned the area and mostly found disciple and humanistic knowledge etched in the very fabric that composed the Legion as an unit, surely stabler and deeper rooted than the virtues of the NCR, a bunch of spoiled and corrupted idiots who used unknowing and patriotic people as mere meat to grind for the biggest picture only a handful of assholes could envision, direct and enjoy. But if virtue and discipline were the only present qualities of the Legion it wouldn't have been nearly as a chore to make a decision.

Violence ran rampant between the ranks of those who stood under the Bull banner, slaves in pain carrying weights that even a brahmin could feel on their backs after a few hours strolling in the scorching sand of the Mojave, the laments of those who were exhaling their last breaths crucified along the paths around the rusty, iron walls and marking the ones connecting the lower and upper camps, not mentioning the cages, kids in rags or armors depending on their gender, the comments the legionaries constantly made of any female of any age.

Not worth a tidy and disciplined civilization, if the foundation was pure and unfiltered suffering laid upon those who simply chose to live differently.
Her eyelids started to give up, too intoxicated by the exhaustion catching up on her after a whole day of walking to the meeting point where Lucullus lead her to the Fort. Maybe retracing her way out of the camp and back to Novac wouldn't have been the brightest of ideas, she thought.

“So you really are as delicate as you seem, aren’t you?” Condescension dripping from each syllable that reached her ears, waking her from wakeful slumber.

This time too tired to hide the roll of her eyes and the disgust in her guts at hearing those words directed at her from the likes of him and those who resided in the camp, Six didn't even turn to see who spoke them, already aware of his presence.

“Did I forget anything of use for Caesar? “

“No. I simply spoke the truth when said that you are our favorite courier. Just kept an eye out for our guest. Also, I sent one of the women to prepare a tent for you. I will personally guard it for the night, so you can rest comfortably, isn’t that delightful? “

“You can just say that it’s to check I won't pull any of my "Funny Tricks" on you people, you know? “ Bitter mirth on her lips as a small, a dry chuckle left with her words.

“I figured that was a better way to put it.“

“So, what do you want to check? All my weapons have been confiscated already, does a tube of lipstick pose a threat to you people?“ She asked eyeing her own deflated bag laying on the ground at her side, almost empty after the seizure of every ammo and weaponry it carried before. 

“That’s a bit rough, don’t you think? I was just curious and eager to know how can this little Courier with short memory span eliminate a team of veteran legionaries if at nine in the evening she is yawning and almost sleeping on the spot she sits on.“

It was hard to deny those claims for Six, who remained silent and hid the lower part of her red face on her arms with a frown, finding purchase on her knees to rest on.
As harsh and unforgiving the Mojave could be, embarrassment never left her person, no matter how little space shyness had on the dry lands she traversed everyday.

“Tell you what, just lead the way and stop speaking nonsense, will you?“ She finally spoke up, doing very little to hide her disdain, a little cherry on the top of a cake made out of her hurtful pride.

With a soft laugh, the man waited for her to get up from the ground and walk beside him, this time not finding her gaze wandering around anymore, evidently worn out from the day and the sunburns littering her exposed skin.

She just wanted to clean herself and go to sleep. “Can I please have a bucket with water too? I need to wash myself. “

“Of course, our guests are to spoil.“ He theatrically replied as he stopped a slave by and asked her the bucket with warm water and a clean cloth. “See? Smooth and unproblematic. No need to be so guarded around here. If you carry no ill intentions that is.“

“I can see.“ Was the only dry reply she gave, adjusting the bag that nearly slipped off of her sore shoulder.

“Excellent. Rest well, Courier. I’ll make sure those voices about trying you out will remain such.“

“Pft, if you say so. Thank you for the hospitality.“ Why was she always so damn formal? She smacked herself mentally, the cringing at her own words showing in the way her sun-slapped nose crinkled immediately after.

“Caesar’s merit, you should thank him, not me. You've been smart enough to not try anything back at Nipton or you wouldn't be here to tell the story.“

"That’s what you say.“

“That’s what I mean.“

“I'd like to turn in for the night, Vulpes. “

“Goodnight, Courier. “

Chapter Text

She woke up when the fine thread of the tent she resided in allowed the thin ripples of the pale sunlight to hit her shut eyelids, producing a low, airy mumble as she stretched lazily and yawned, filling her lungs with the clean air that the location of the Legion Camp provided.

The Legion camp.

That's when the realization of where she still was hit her like a train right on her face as she sat up in an instant, immediately going for her bag.
Her makeup bag in particular.
Once she opened it, dread washed over her as her eyes fell on the emptiness of the container. Maybe it wasn't as genial as she thought hiding her smaller weapons and bullets in such a frivulous place would be, but the idea of someone actually sneaking in the tent she was so foolishly snoozing in, basically welcoming anyone who tried to do anything to her after all the troubles she caused to the cause of her hosts, made her slap a hand on her forehead. Mentally, to prevent any noise to come from the action.
The idea of going out and dealing with the consequences of her little stunt was still too unpleasant for her drowsy self.

As much as she hated to admit it, sleeping on a decent bedroll after such a long time felt heavenly, without even speaking of the soft animal fur blanket the Legion made sure to provide for her as they set up her tent.

With a sigh, she rolled out of the makeshift bed and shivered at the contact of her warm skin with the air coming in from the closed tent's entrance.
Still, giving up an occasion to wash herself with clean, not irradiated water was inexcusable, so she absolutely savoured it when one of those poor women left a bucket of warm water and a cloth right inside the tent a couple of minutes before.

Finally scrubbing and taking off all the sweat and grime accumulated during her journey to the Fort, Six mentally prepared for the worst as the absence of weight in her improvised weapon case still lingered in her stomach, choking her breath more with each passing second.
Every clang of the straps of her leather armor being secured on her body sounded deafening in the silence of her improvised abode in which her mind kept repeating scenario after scenario in which she needed to find a way out to prevent the wrath of Caesar to unleash on her a barrage of punishments for disobeying his orders and bringing weapons in the camp. Six wasn't one for fights, no matter how harsh and unforgiving the wastes were, she was still a person who woke up with no memory inside of a nameless grave not even a month prior. Acting though and mean wouldn't have brought her anywhere good considering her position in a camp full of men who in average would have been able to crush her in a matter of little to no effort, so acting, at least for now, would have been her best bet. Until she got her weapons back and a clearer image of the state, layout and inner workings of that place.

Another sight left her gritted teeth and she swallowed the knot in her throat, only then crawling out of the tent.

The first thing her eyes got immediately greeted by was a woman being slapped so hard she barely could keep herself up on her feet, eyes meeting with the Courier's in a silent plea for stillness. "Don't" she mouted to Six, who shivered hard.
So distracted by the scene she tried so hard to ignore to prevent worsening the condition for the poor stranger, the obstacle in front of her felt completely invisible. Not so much when she bumped on it with a gasp.

“Ah, sorr- Ah… It's you. “ She apologized initially, partially from genuine habit of being polite, partially because that place was starting to feel suffocatingly oppressive. She was no hero, if anything all she wanted to do right in that moment was leaving as soon as possible and find a way to free the slaves.
When her eyes met instead with Vulpes', all of her gentle disposition was instantly vaporized, a scoff leaving her when he responded to her peevish attitude with one of his shit-eating fake smiles.

“Apologies accepted, now, will you allow us to humor you with a meal? We have some fresh milk and roasted brahmin. Oh, and caramelized fruit too. “

“What did she do to deserve that?“ Her voice nearly reduced to a whisper, instantly regretting outing her concern regarding the slaves in the camp right to the Legion's ruler's right hand. She bit her cheek.

“Don’t avoid my questions, Courier. She, before you insist with your petulance, was a Nipton survivor who tried to flee the Fort.“

“You know that Romans had an ounce of respect towards slaves at their time, right? “

“At the time, they worked hard to deserve such benevolence. Because I can also say that there have been records of slave/owner relationships, but not only it was rare, the slaves themselves revealed themself useful, contrary to these pitiful whores who come from the worst the Mojave has to offer. Nothing special, just a waste of time, even if some of the men married a couple out of their looks. Frivolous, but keeps providing the Legion with future men.
Now, will you please follow me? Caesar has a favor to discuss with you, we can skip the breakfast if you desire to keep up the petulance.“

“Do you really think all of that? Stop it with the formalities then, I am a woman too. “

“Whose under Caesar’s protection.“ He specified, then turned around to fully glare at her with a stare that didn't allow any more denials. “I’m repeating myself, will you please follow me, now, Courier?“

She gulped, but a little smirk curved her lips. “Or what? I'm your "favourite Courier", how would Caesar react if you damaged his precious little tool of New Vegas' and the Dam's conquest?“
Still, she started following, not really planning on finding out what that psycho had in mind in case she didn't intend to attend his "glorious" Caesar's call.

He smiled back, weirdly amused. “I thought Nipton was a pretty clear example of what I'm capable of. You, however, would probably prove to be more interesting than those depraved morons. You try so hard to have a dignity it's almost convincing.
Such a blessing for your kind. But enough talking, Caesar awaits.“

One thing she had to give to him was his ability to get on her nerves so badly her hands itched with desire. One of ripping his teeth out and wipe off that fastidious grin from his pale face, the mere idea consoling enough to satiate her for as long as an occasion to make her desire come true came around.
Still, the way he spoke to her in such a manner made her feel… small. Ridiculous, even. Such condescension dripping out of each syllable he spewed in his long and slow rants about the beauty and radiance of the Legion or his ideals and morals.
Ironic, she wasn’t the one wearing a Roman skirt with sunglasses and a dead dog on her head, but maybe his calm and collected composure was what actually got through her and made him look more than he really was. She sped up, gnawing on her cheek as they walked through the second gate of the Fort.

“How old are you? You seem pretty young for your position.“ She asked in a question that genuinely wanted an answer to by the first time they met. He looked too young to be such a cruel and ruthless resource for the Legion. Not that she thought young people weren't capable of atrocities, but he almost looked experience in such matter. Too cold, too calculating and damn precise, despite the scale of his operations.

“Why do you care to know? I speak Caesar’s word to you, age isn’t something that should change the importance of what I tell you, now.“
“I'm curious. I don’t believe in age proportioned respect, don't care about whatever weird hierarchy you're running here, so I don’t mean to undermine the scale of your… let's call them achievements. “
“That’s not something you should say in here, someone could really try to pass through me just to slit your throat while you sleep. “
“They can try. A bullet in the head wasn’t enough to stop me.”
He allowed a small chuckle to fall from his thin lips. “Fair enough, but that Benny didn’t look exactly like an ace. Or any bright, to be completely blunt.“
“You don’t look that terrifying either, with a dog's head and all, but you had the guts to put an entire town on their knees. What can I say, appearances can be deceiving.“
The way she spoke her mind so freely in that moment almost fooled herself and her barriers she always kept up in such a harsh environment like the Mojave, but his way with words and approach surely was an asset. Suddenly, it wasn't so hard to understand how easily the mayor of Nipton trusted that guy, at least on a first sight. It wasn't that hard to see through all of it either, but politicians weren't exactly renowned for their smarts or critical thinking, so she simply cleared her throat, trying to recollect herself.
“Snake tongue that you have today. What about a piece of bread to fill that empty stomach of yours? Will the wits go away?“ He asked again with that condescending tone that started to almost appear as mirth.

Six decided there and then that she didn’t stand him, but in a weird way.
His mannerisms didn't suggest any violent tendency towards her despite the absence of any gentleness and the fact that his politeness did sound like a well crafted act and her curiosity towards his disposition only grew in a twisted game of pushing buttons and seeing what it took to actually manifest a dangerous reaction out of him. Maybe he was just great at self control and Caesar gave him such important role because of his calm and cold nerves of steel that guided his every calculation. Maybe he was just an asshole and Caesar too preoccupied with his grandeur tendencies to accept anyone less self assured and collected to take Vulpes' place.

"Caesar awaits." She repeated with a smug smile, before finally entering the main tent of the camp.

Caesar was sitting on his throne, like always probably, and she crossed her arms, looking at him and at Vulpes that reached his place next to him, rigorous as always.

“Have you thought about that chip? Know that once you get out this camp, you will not get it back unless you do what I asked.“ The older man spoke so differently than the man standing at his side, or any of those fanatics around them, she wondered if they even were part of the same group.
“I… I need more time to understand what it does. Mr. House too is still alive, operating like this would probably be a danger for the whole plan… Trying to get past his defenses without debilitating security would mean losing the chip once he retrieves it back once I go down there… “
“Courier, I'll be honest with you. Don't mistake my patience for naiveté and see that you find a way to blow up the content of that bunker soon.
Trying to stall on what will bring civilization to the Mojave is the worst blight you could do at this time. While I believe you still need to find a solution, I highly doubt you're completely blind to the whole ordeal. I give you a week. I expect you to finish before that.“

All things considered, she knew he was right. The decision was more about what was less worse than what was the best for the Mojave at that point. The NCR was corrupt, each and every citizen dissatisfied and kept miserable by the condition imposed by the higher ups who just ate away all that the working class produced in order to continue the ongoing war and expansion, while Caesar's Legion… it did keep roads safer and inhabitants disciplined, but through fear and a life absolutely devoid of any other meaning that wasn't a single cause, for a single man, while slaughtering and stepping on everything he didn't stand for, no matter how good and useful.
While the prospect of working to live in a tin can and paying enormous taxes with so much bureaucracy it was impossible to do anything or get any form of justice wasn't so appealing, the Legion's idea of future was so grim she didn't have it in her to condemn anyone to that life.
“I'll come up with something then. I'll get it done, Caesar.“

“Good. Now go. This fucking headache… “ He muttered silently as he got up from his throne and left sluggishly towards his room.

The Courier made her way out of the tend replaying the whole exchange in her head when she realized no one mentioned her hidden weapons. Maybe she hid them too well and now she couldn’t find them?
Call it wishful thinking, but another look wouldn't have hurt, at least to make sure nothing else was missing. Each step contained all of her willpower to not just sprint and retrieve all of her stuff, but letting relief over something she wasn't sure about take control of her was like setting herself up for disappointment.
That she still felt once after emptying her bag on the bedroll under her and finding that the weapons were still missing.

“Are you looking for these?“ She didn't need to turn around and see whose voice was that to roll her eyes. Did he need to follow her like a shadow? Hardly containing her annoyance and discomfort in being caught red handed, she finally allowed her gaze to linger on his presence, before dropping on his hands with a nervous exale full of a mix of panic and rage at the recognition of her gun and knife. Joshua's .45 to be precise, because of course she brought such a recognizable piece of work in a camp full of men who wanted him dead.
“Give them back.“
“Didn't the guard confiscate everything? That's not good. Caesar is pretty serious about this. Everyone is, except you. And the guard, apparently, but I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and guess you possess hands fast enough to be able to evade our men's eyes.“
“How can I leave my weapons when all I see is a terrible treatment towards women and hear your men wanting to "try me out"? I don't think it's some unexpected event, me wanting to keep myself safe, now, is it?" Her voice wavered slightly, but she stood her ground. At that point, hiding the truth, was quite useless and probably counter productive. Plus. she hated lying. No matter how dangerous the situation, if they discovered any lie behind her word, at that moment, she would have been done for, together with her plan of saving the army she could have had for Vegas in the underground bunker of The Fort.
“Guess you don’t trust me either? What a pity, and here I thought you were pretty comfortable chit chatting with me this morning.“
Vulpes laughed so slightly, his voice devoid of any finality or sincerity towards the words he himself pronounced and he threw her pistol on the mat with half box of bullets, keeping the rest and her dagger in his own sack before raising his chin, a serious expression on his sharp features scrutinizing her.
“Use it with any unworthy reasoning and I will personally make sure you won’t leave this camp.“

Six looked at the pistol for any signs of tampering within or on the pistol, finding none.
It was just there between her hands, perfectly fine. She looked up at him with very poorly concealed confusion before nodding and hiding her weapon in her beauty case, then back in her backpack.
“I have to say, that placement would have fooled many. Although pretty predictable, I cannot deny it's slightly ingenuous, I'll give that to you, Courier.
I hope tonight will serve your slumber well once you'll come back. Not that you seemed to have any problem, last one.“
With that subtle warning, he abandoned the tent, leaving behind a flustered courier that just smacked herself on the forhead for real now that she knew for sure he was the one behind all of that situation. And her stomach ache for the whole morning.

Now that she knew for sure he was keeping a close eye on her, sleeping wouldn't exactly come easily or sharing the same serenity the tiredness of the previous day bestowed upon her the night before.
Although she still wondered, as she closed the tent, why did he leave her that pistol or why he didn't tell Caesar about it. All was promptly discarded as his way too big ego. That man knew no humility or whatsoever anyway, so it didn't come as a surprise he thought her skill with guns wasn't enough to best him or whoever she decided to fire upon.
Backpack on her shoulders, she decided not to dwell on matters of the Legion any longer for the day and leave to complete more of her duties as a courier. After all, no matter how dire the situation was, everyone seemed short of one single man to do some kind of job and the caps in her pockets didn't really hurt.

Chapter Text

Courier Six: the Mojave's saviour, apparently.

She found baffling how almost everyone seemed one person short for everything. From clearing Quarry's Junction of a Deathclaws infestation to taking care of fixing a whole damn solar power plant; Six started questioning if the people inhabiting the scorched lands of the desert were alive thanks to some divine intervention and pure luck. After meeting Fantastic, she officially etched an epitaph on the tombstone she was previously hesitant to put on the NCR's cause, in her mind. If the reasonings of people like Colonel Hsu were more than well founded as the poor man was basically carrying the whole Mojave Chapter of the NCR on his back, the excuses of the rest of those involved were absolutely unacceptable. From corruption to greed, demanding to even power up a death-ray for the sake of terrorizing any adversary instead of focusing on improving the life conditions of those who lived in the desert, she actually started to see why people like Caesar existed.

The complete antithesis.

One that she got to discover more in depth as she even heard of civil lands remaining unscathed by his dominion of terror: starting from the fact that men and women weren't being forcefully drafted, his army was mostly built of slaves who refused his negotiations as he demanded annexation to his territories. Had they accepted, they would have gotten to live a pretty regular life with the benefit of being protected and enjoying power, nearly absolute safety, food and clean water aplenty with the only price of paying some pretty ridiculously low taxes to fund war campaigns and obey any of the very few times Caesar demanded anything from the Legion's citizens. It was inhumane on the slaves and indeed awful that those who got in his sight could only choose between slavery or losing their autonomy, but how free were NCR's citizens really? Was poverty and barely paid labor even be considered freedom just because one was free to speak their mind, if at the end of the day they got to barely put any food on their families' tables and had to pay astronomical sums to a government that didn't even bother making clean water accessible to everyone? The presidential elections themselves were ridiculous and rigged, same with the army's hierarchy and anything regarding state affairs really.

Bullet in the brain or not, her head was pulsating from the whole ordeal, especially since almost every card in her deck leaned towards' the Legion's cause, at that point.

Saluting Raul after freeing him and enjoying all his tales about his life and, above all, about Legion territories, she decided it was time to finally be true to her word and get to the Fort. Backpack on her shoulders, her sandy boots stepped on the fine grains of the desert as she traversed her way back.

“Vulpes, go call the Courier, it’s been six days since she got called in this damn tent and still didn’t take care of that fucking bunker. I’m losing my patience.“

“Mighty Caesar, consider it done. Although, by observing her, I couldn't help but notice her links to other minor settlements of the Mojave. Wouldn't it be wise to keep an eye on her? She might prove to be a menace.“

“Are you kidding? Did someone poison your brahmin or something? You were the one following her, you should have that answer.“

“I might have underestimated the threat she poses.“

“Then I shouldn't have saved you from that cross. You know what’s the consequence of failure.“

"Yes, Caesar. I’ll make sure she will come here before the dawn.“

“Good. You are the greatest of my Frumentarii for a reason. You more than anyone should know about her potential if we manage to get her contacts to work with us for the upcoming battle and in the future.“

“I know, Caesar. I’ll be back soon with that woman.“

When he reached her, or at least he thought he did, she wasn’t in her tent. Of course, who knows where she escaped now. He didn't lose his cool, however. He knew that that little woman couldn’t go too far, or at least he hoped. An intuition, suddenly, came into his mind as he approached the fort's gates and walked through them: when a few days back he rummaged through her belongings, he found an old blank book he started inspecting immediately, only to discover it was her travels' journal.

Ever paranoid about someone snooping through her things, she made sure not to write anything too obvious about her plans, but one sentence in particular found space in his mind:

-I love water, here, being a bit farther from the cities and other camps you can even drink it from the river without getting poisoned by radiation or shitting yourself!
Isn’t that great? I wish I could find the time to swim a bit.

I’m so tired. I wonder when I'll be done with all of this situation.–

Stupid woman, he thought.
As soon as he got out of the walls and walked down the hill, he walked towards the river’s bed. He wanted to just grab her by force and take her back.
A weird sensation twisted his guts as her written words repeated in his brain. He was growing impatient himself, babysitting a grown woman was the last of the duties he wanted to take care of, but part of him couldn't just let things go the wrong way.
Caesar's cause was grand, it was noble, it would have provided her with the respite she wrote she needed. Not the one he thought she deserved. He never worried for her. What was that gnawing twist in his guts for, then? If not for her, for himself, in case he failed pulling her loyalty into their cause? He didn't see her after her last departure from Caesar's tent and the only news he got about her was not even three hours prior as they got notified of her presence on Lucullus' boat. In the past she didn’t seem to appreciate his presence but, he had to admit, he didn’t despite hers. It intrigued him, how different she was from the inhabitants of the Mojave, yet similar enough to blend in perfectly everywhere, no matter how out of place she always looked. She could be shy and nice, he saw how she caressed their dogs’ fur while giving them some of her meals or how polite she had been with Lucius, whom she seemed to get along with or, again, how she approached the slaves that served her during her permanence in the camp. Yet her coldness and detachment never escaped Vulpes' eyes, like she didn’t want to have anything to do with anybody on more than a formal level. No matter how friendly and accommodating she looked, she kept everything and everyone at arm's length, her curious and stupid eyes hiding a brain that never ceased to analyze everything that came into her mind or a situation that presented itself before her.

And that was a problem.

It made her unpredictable if not straight up misleading even for people like Caesar.
And yet he found his curiosity only growing as he wondered how to break that little theatrical show she was keeping up with everybody she met. He wondered what it would take to destroy her resolve and bend her to Caesar's resolution. He wondered if she would ever have had joined their side in their mission.

He finally noticed a figure near the shore of the river, of course Vulpes knew that it was the Courier, with her long hair, her short height, the partially exposed sun-burnt skin. It took a moment, but he realized she was getting closer, her yelp echoing through the land once she finally acknowledged his presence.

“What the fuck?!“ She covered herself despite her tank top and shorts, dipping her figure in the cold water.
Vulpes raised a brow, crossing his arms. "Says the half naked lunatic swimming alone in this immense river. What are you doing here, wasting Caesar's time? It’s cold and dawn is approaching. What if one of those lakelurks comes to bite your legs?“

“That’s none of your concerns and I have this anyway-.“ She reached for the pistol harness on the side of her thigh and unbuckled it, showing the weapon proudly. It was an elegant pistol, her beloved Maria, Vulpes noticed. “Can you at least stop looking at me so I can put on some clothes?“ She asked as he stared at her pistol, which she kept handling as if it gave her some sense of security after Vulpes reminded her of those water devils that way too many times fucked her up.

“Isn’t it a bit too late to be pudic?“ He jested, although not finding the situation funny in the slightest himself, turning around. “I’m not looking. But be fast. Caesar would order me to inflict you some punishment, were he to discover you're here bathing instead of talking to him.“

“You are free to tell him then, it’s not like I did this expecting a prize-.” She murmured putting on an old, faded long sleeved dress to cover herself, not caring much if her underclothes left wet spots on the thick fabric. He just waited silently and, when she cleared her voice, he knew he was finally free to look around. “Do you think you are showing bravery in your behavior? Caesar gave you his Mark. It’s the most honorable thing he could have granted you. Don’t waste your talent on a cross, Courier. Water will be beautiful after your duties too, if you’ll be fast enough in executing them.“

At those words, her eyes widened slightly. He did in fact read her notes. She smirked, a mix of bitterness and amusement. “It wasn’t supposed to be something written for you to read. At least don’t bring it up. Or is your ego so big you believe yourself to be above any human behavior that doesn't involve you personally?“

“I have to keep sight of your movements, you know that very well.“

She patted his shoulder, walking before him, with a fast pace, while bottoning up the caravaneer dress and covering herself with the jacket. “No problems. Also, tell Caesar where I was, please. I really want to witness with my own two eyes what he'll demand you do to me for bathing in a river after working a whole week for your damn cause.“

Never like in that moment he felt his composure crack.

“So you are telling me that this bitch was playing like a moron in the river when here we are waiting like idiots for her?
Courier, listen to me. Carefully this time, very carefully. I won’t give you another single chance. If you exit this camp you will be just a fucking decoration for those crosses next time we cross paths.
You must go in that basement right now. I’m not giving you a choice, if it isn’t clear enough. You take your equipment in that fucking bunker and go destroy whatever is in there. Am I clear? And, Vulpes. Make sure she doesn’t leave the tent for any reason at all, for the nights to follow, unless she departs for jobs.“

“Surely, Caesar. I will.“

“Good. You,“ He pointed at the Courier, who was fuming despite her calm exterior. “go, immediately.“

Six was starting to ask herself why she still didn’t just shot at their heads all together and freed those poor slaves, to hell with all that martial excellence and all the products of her overthinking. But yet again, doing it in that moment was absolutely foolish. She should have started organizing something with Boone soon. She stepped into the building and, once her gear was back on her shoulders, she entered the bunker.

Every corner hid some death weaponry trying to off her at first sight, but it didn't take too long before she finally found the control room. In her mind, images of the Securitron's demonstration replayed multiple times in the blink of an eye and her decision was finally made. If it was or not the right decision, she had no idea, but if those robots didn't go insane for two-hundred years, she had no reasons to believe they would have anytime soon.

She inserted the Platinum Chip on the console and uploaded the upgrade.

Immediately the ground shook and for a moment she thought she accidentally initiated a hidden self destructing sequence by accident, but once her eyes landed on the windows above the console her heart nearly dropped.

They were so many.

The ground shook harder and harder as more of the units activated and in that moment she knew she had no way of coming back on her choices. The possible damage was done. Even worse, she now had to get back to the surface and face Caesar after betraying him without a second thought. And, with a single upload, she betrayed the NCR too. War had just begun and realizing that after all she endured, the worst still had to come, her stomach dropped.

When she finally went back to Caesar, she didn't realize she was profusely bleeding on a side, adrenaline rushing hard in her veins clouding her every bodily sensation as she awaited his verdict, heart pounding in her rib cage and eyes still fully alert and shocked, from the previous decision, on the dictator.

“I felt the ground shake for a moment, I take it as a sign that you completed the task I assigned you, good.“

Six couldn't believe her ears. He really was as dumb as he tried to convince everyone not to be.

She smiled, distractedly and completely absent as she nodded. “I hope this will repay my outrageous activities, Mighty Caesar.“ All she felt in that moment was the beating of her heart so violent in her ears and the judgement in Vulpes' stare, burning a hole in her face.

“You are serving the Legion right, Courier. Now you may rest and seek medical help by Siri. Tomorrow I will give you another important task that you need to complete as perfectly as the one you have just don- Argh!“ Caesar clutched his head, curling on himself slightly as he stood up immediately. “I'll go sleep now. Don't disturb me until tomorrow."

“Thank you, I might get some rest then, have a nice rest yourself, Caesar.“ She replied still smiling stupidly as her breath started slowing back to normalcy, blood loss clouding her vision slightly as the adrenaline left her body trembling and weak. Once gained her wits back, she smiled at Vulpes, smile not reaching her cold eyes staring up at him, before finally stepping out of the tent with an arm curled around her middle, tightly, trying to prevent any more blood loss.

Despite her worry, she knew a stimpack would have easily saved her life, so all she focused on in that moment was reaching her own tent.

“You may fool a busy mind like Caesar’s, but not mine. What was that?“ Vulpes asked peeking into her tent as she started taking care of her wound by cleaning it, gritting her teeth hard.

“ "That" what? “ She asked not even glancing in his direction, too preoccupied with washing her injury with a bottle of water and healing powder.

“That wasn’t sound of destruction. That wasn’t an explosion or some bullets and in case of a simple deactivation the ground wouldn't have shook. What was that?“

“Ask Caesar, he knows what he heard, or are you questioning his wits?“

“You're a filthy whore.“

“You finally took it out of your system. Can you please get out now? I need to rest. I'm not in the mood to hang out, we can get to know each others another time.“

The Frumentarius, for once, found himself speechless as he knew any word against Caesar's, in that moment, would have costed his life and position, rather than hers, no matter what she did. If Caesar refused to acknowledge it, making a fuss out of the situation would have proven useless.
As he stepped away, the uneasiness left behind by his silent threat sent a shiver down her spine as she realized from that moment onward she needed to thread lightly, his eyes focused on finding any possible flaw in her behavior to report her to Caesar himself. The thought, while terrifying, didn't discourage her, however. What

was done was done, and she had no intention of going back. Not when the Mojave itself was basically in her hands. Yes, giving absolute freedom and self-sufficiency to the lands she was traversing meant only natural selection would have been the ultimate judge on who would have survived and who wouldn't, yet she didn't find it in herself to subject anybody to either the Legion or the NCR and with Mr. House out of the picture, all she could do was to give back absolute and complete freedom to the inhabitants of those lands, hoping in their better judgement.

Chapter Text

Six's mind kept aimlessly jumping from thought to thought, lately.

Images of the last events burning in her mind in so much detail that putting a bracket and make the most out of the everyday fewer moments of stillness was more of a chore than something coming naturally.
The mighty Mojave Express Courier number Six disobeyed Caesar's orders and while her stunt worked on him, Vulpes' attention multiplied indefinitely around her and her every action as she decided on the path to walk. One thing was to fuel the rage of a man nearing senile age who suffered from migraines, another was to mess with his young head of the Legion's spy unit, known for his intelligence and overall brilliancy.

Turning and tossing around for hours, a gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach screamed her to not fall asleep, yet exhaustion got the best of her willpower and she allowed, to her delight, her eyelids to fall shut and her heartbeat slow into a calm, stabler rhythm.

The soft rustling of her tent flap opening flew right past her steady breaths undisturbed, just as the cold, sharp touch of a blade dragging its way along her cheek, all the way to her neck.
A crimson line so thin and precise that drew the soft line of her features, meeting the neckline of her tanktop, before the blade moved to the shoulder to try and cut it.
Hot breath on her face, a silent chuckle, a deep, guttural sigh. Only then she started stirring awake as the trickling of blood tickled the side of her neck, accompanied by the huffs of breathing softly caressing her exposed skin and... Fleabane.

Only then it hit her: someone was there.

She sat up throwing her legs out of the bed in a frantic attempt to catch the presence in her tent, yet all it left behind was the entrance's flap fluttering to the desert's wind, the sweet smell of the flower still lingering in her nostrils and her newly made injury painting the rim of her top in crimson, feeding the panic brewing in her chest as she hurried outside.
To her disappointment, yet slight relief, even then she didn't seem to encounter any potential suspect, just the usual patrolling legionaries that eyed her bare legs in disdain, since she was protected by Caesar.

Blood still rushing in her ears, her trembling breath was all she heard outside of the power of her heart's pumps, deep and terrified puffs desperate for oxygen followed by the bare taps of her feet on the sandstone towards Siri's tent.
The poor woman already had only a few hours of sleep each day, Six's guilt twisted her stomach and devouring her as she approached the slave's bedroll, but the Mojave didn't care about the eventuality of having to use stimpacks in good hearth to avoid waking up a poor unlucky inhabitant of its sandy lands, instead forcing her to save them for her travels and approach the slumbering woman in her tent.

"Siri... Hey, I'm sorry to wake you up, but... I really need your help."

The panicked rocking of her body shook her awake with a startle, deep brown eyes fluttering open, suddenly widening in alarm and knocking away any trace of sleep from her sunkissed face.
"God, Courier, what happened?!" She asked, immediately reaching for her cleaner slave rags resting at the foot of her bedroll, pressing them on her injury as Six shook her head and shrugged, her best (worst) calm smile attempting to defuse the situation.
"I... I don't know, actually... I feel bad waking you up but, honestly... I think I could use the presence of another woman with me right now..." She admitted candidly to the older lady, sniffling slightly in a pathetic attempt not to burst into tears as images of the deep blackness of the shallow grave she resided in fluctuating between life and death filled her frenzied brain.
The fact that she was so close to end up in that dark chasm once more enough to shake her every limb as her heart found comfort in Siri's gentle, yet frantic administrations.
"You..." She leaned closer, looking around to make sure nobody was checking on them. "You have to leave, Courier... You have to save yourse-"
Her voice died in her throat, eyes widening fixed behind the Courier and Six, for a moment, was terrified to look behind herself, yet... Siri was defenseless. It was her job to protect her, so gathering all her courage she turned around, finding that, once more, nobody was there.
She looked back at her who hurriedly placed a tiny bag of healing powder between her hands.
"Go back, Courier... Just go back to your tent, don't make things worse for any of us, please..."

The courier nodded and looked down to her hands resting on her bent knees.
She had no right in pulling an unwilling victim into her predicament, let alone ask for comfort when she had it way worse than her.
Six chocked her trembling breath and stood up, clutching the little bag between her fingers.
"You're right... I'm sorry. Thank you."

The situation demanded quick thinking and action. She had to remain alert and wait for the next day before, hopefully, getting another job to use that as an excuse to flee the camp.
Each step on the dusty pavement was a testament to how badly she missed friendly human contact. Even something as scarce and hurried as Siri's presence from a few moments ago stopped her trembling while now, back in her own tent, fear took over her once again, spreading on her form with the shivers traversing every fiber of her being even under the covers as cold sweat covered her body in its entirety.
All that was able to reach her perception was a cold, insistent stare she couldn't comprehend in the loneliness of her surroundings.

A smirk, looking back at her huddled, confused form.

When the Frumentarius opened her tent's flap that morning, Six was gone.

Nothing new, at that point he didn't expect to find anything other than a well made bed, her stuff on the tent's corner carefully packed, her dirty clothes in the bucket under the desk that she used as a wardrobe to lighten the load on her back when she carried her backpack.
The words that the chill morning air carried, however, brought him a deja-vù right into his ears.

“Can I fight in the arena now?! I blew up an entire basement full of big-ass robots, I can do this!“
“Oh I’m sure you can.“ Otho sneered staring down at her smaller build.

“Oh come on, please!“ Was that... a pout?
“Know your place and lower your voice, wom-“

“Let her. I will be her opponent.“Vulpes broke their exchange crossing his arms once he reached the two, his usual calm smile stamped on his thin lips as he eyed down the Courier that seemed to force herself to make herself intimidating. Vulpes' icy irises dragging over the fresh injury adorning the side of her face all the way inside the neckline of her patchwork of armor, armor pieced together by the various parts the Mojave had to offer to its strollers, be it a ranger armor vest or a pair of legionary gloves, body protection was never short in supply.

Her blood ran cold while he so calmly checked her, a complete contrast to his collected demeanor.
The fear of the previous night was far from gone, but Six forced herself to get a hold of herself and actually prove to the camp and her own self-esteem not to mess with her.
To send a message.

That was the idea before Vulpes volunteered to take the place of the poor NCR soldier who would have been in line if that psycho didn't enjoy to stick to her ass so closely all the time, as if she was able to do anything in that moment to the camp as a whole. Despite the prospect of fighting with the man himself completely turned the tables regarding her probability of victory, she stood her ground, shrugging."I guess you wouldn't ignore the word of your darling boss, now, would you?!"

“Isn’t it too unbalanced? She is specialized in long range weapons, it'll be a joke to make her eat sand. Caesar would be so pissed if you broke his little toy.“

Otho spoke completely ignoring her, almost as if she didn't talk at all and yes, that was definitely a pout.A very outraged one, Vulpes noticed on their dear courier, with an amused smirk.
He, on the other hand, nodded with such a peacocky attitude she almost felt her fear completely transform in rage at the possibility of wiping that mannerism off of him.

“Well, he wants to duel with you, you should follow his command, Courier.“

The eye-roll that ensued nearly knocked her head back by the exaggeration of the movement, yet she complied and gathered her assigned machete from the footlocker, Vulpes following suit in doing the same.

Her knowledge of close range weaponry was vaste, yet her actual prowess with it left a lot to work on. What really saved her butt-cheeks more than once traversing the Wasteland were her agility and reflexes.
Agility and reflexes that didn't save her from the silent intrusion in her tent and safety and she nearly spiraled down into another rabbit hole of overthinking and trauma if it wasn't for Otho clearing his throat and pulling her butt back to reality.

Taking a deep breath, Six stepped into the arena sided by her opponent who seemed to be craving to see her blood, if his uncharacteristically serious look was anything to go by.
A familiar chill ran down her spine and she stanced herself, preparing for the sparring session.

He was the first one to attack, his quick step confident and aimed directly at her middle, barely missing her when she rapidly rolled on a side with a gasp as his stance had already recovered its center of gravity, ready to strike once more and leaving his own side open. She went for the strike deviating his attack with her arm, but the other blocked it skillfully and smoothly, the precision not too different from that of a fox focusing on its prey, true to the name that the Legion gifted him.
His melee prowess leaving her nearly no windows for her to take advantage of and her own inexperience not helping in recognizing the openings available to her, Six decided to focus on deflecting, her limbs growing strained and heavy together with the sting in the cut at the side of her face as salty sweat formed around it and fresh blood bled into her eye with all the movement and sweat dripping from her skin.
Their fight continued for minutes on end.Long moments between dodging, attacking, blocking, the build up of fatigue rapidly catching up with her body each strike and roll she performed. Her endurance was her strong suit, but not when it came to close quarters combat where a certain quickness and sharpness was demanded to work in tandem with adrenaline, her biggest weakness. Short range wasn’t for her, the endurance built upon walking, running, carrying her weaponry, keeping herself engaged in her everyday life in the Mojave and not upon brandishing a blade.

The complete opposite of Vulpes who, on the other hand, looked completely fine if not slightly heated up if the altered breathing and the bit of sweat running down his temples weren't merely a product of the desertic temperatures.

A crowd of Legionaries and slaves gathered around the arena and kept watch of the fight, astonished by the young woman's ability to survive him for so long despite the signs of dreadful exhaustion lining her features and the bloodied injury opening back up together with new ones he drew with the tip of his machete grazing the little bits of her exposed skin here and there, a testimony of how easy Vulpes would have had it if he didn't hold back.
Something to be surely proud off nonetheless for the little Courier who stepped in the Fort less than a month prior.

In a moment, Vulpes found his way into her balance and staggered her, throwing her on the ground and quickly immobilizing her form, his machete coincidentally at the side of her bloody face.
Despite what looked like a loss on first glance, her own blade found its place pointed at his throat, her breath hitching for a moment, realization hitting her as a puff of Fleabane mingled against her own breath and her eyes widened under the coldness of his indecipherable stare, accentuated by the piercing blueness of his irises focused on her now glancing at her lips as the chattering of her teeth slightly parted them and her labored breath took on an erratic rhythm.

The burning feeling of the previous night reviving her fear so viscerally Otho’s announcement of the ending of the match blocked her scream in her throat, bringing them both down on earth.

Six rapidly rolled out of his grasp and stood, quickly reaching the footlocker to drop her machete inside surrounded by the surprised whispers and looks of the legionaries that were trying to see where she cheated to keep up for so long with one of their leaders that immediately dissipated into silence when Vulpes followed close, gesturing his men to go back to work and not get distracted by that unprogrammed arena event.

“This is a great example of Caesar’s intuition. I see why my Lord got so amazed by you.
Not that I didn't witness it before, but I wanted to test myself. Well done.“

He smiled so warmly she almost missed the chill in his gaze as she wiped the blood off her face, keeping her distance from him.

“Thank you. I noticed you held back, though, so I'm not sure if it's a praise worthy of mention. As for my "ability", most of it was panic, the rest muscle memory.“

Despite the many questions and the fear still brewing inside of her, Six still found it in herself to just be honest about her predicament, a small flush adding to the exhaustion one on her face now clearer thanks to the pour of water flowing from her bottle to cleanse the last residues of blood and sweat from her skin.

He observed that too.
She was... silly, like the simpletons of the degenerates would have said: her behavior so simple and clumsy, whenever it came to normal social interaction, was a total contrast from her business transactions. Even her collected and elegant walk, her overall mannerisms completely detached from her more candid manifestations of herself, with her blushing and smiling or cursing and getting so emotional for everything.

“It is a great asset to be able to weaponize panic. You seem to channel it in the right way. You might go and get comfortable, Caesar needs you well rested for tomorrow so I suggest you make the most out of this day free of duties that he granted you.
Also, prepare a bag with your belongings, I'll come and collect you tomorrow at the first rays. I'll be accompanying you, since I have some unfinished business in the strip myself.“

Her stomach dropped at the notion of having to travel alone with him.
Part of her knew he followed her anyway or sent agents to observe her, but openly having to share road with him was a completely different matter, above all when suspicion over the culprit for the previous night's “visit" identity automatically fell on him, in her mind.

Yet she found herself nodding quickly.

“I'll be taking my leave, then... Uh... I have a few parts of the armor that need fixing.“

Her "safe" place, her tent, was the only place she allowed herself to drop some of her masks.

Some being a keyword here, but the comfort of a good bed and clean water always brought some solace in her heart, so after her toiletries routine she always felt like a new person.
That life was starting to exhaust her beyond repair, but the sensation of clean hair on her scalp or a well treated, perfumed skin was always a bliss.

Vulpes calling her from outside the tent quickly tore down that bliss as she was tying up a hairband to keep her hair away from her face, the usual uneasiness in her stomach accompanying his voice whenever she heard him close.

She crawled towards the entrance to stick her face out and question him about his call.
There he stood, keeping a hold of his plate, basking in the scene of her glaring up at him. His uniform shinier and cleaner, product of their armory's experts maintaining them before his journeys.

“I’ll be waking you up as the sun starts rising so see that you sleep early, Courier. It seems impossible to wake you up.“ His words carrying out a hint she refused to aknowledge.
His smile yet again indecipherable as he stared down at her.
She laughed slightly and nodded, deciding to put aside her anguish, before disappearing inside the tent again.
Their fight still carved into her muscles, mind, eyes. Body. It was still aching and littered in new lines.
Yet she hated to admit, it was a damn surprise and a nice one too: she had so much fun sparring with him, despite it all.

The next morning, as promised, he slid himself into the woman’s tent, his hand shaking her softly to give her time to wake up.
Seeing the action didn't get him much of a reaction other than a soft mumble and slight stirring, he got up from his crouching position and ripped the tent's flap open, flooding the interior in sunlight and winning him a loud groan from Six who shot up sitting to cover her eyes and avoiding any other torture that asshole might have had in mind in case she enjoyed the glow of a good night's sleep any longer.

“I already spoke to Caesar. I’ll explain our task on our way to the strip. Prepare yourself, we won’t stop many times.“
He spoke, delighted by her hilarious dishevelment.

She nodded with yet another groggy groan and stretched her legs out of the bed as he left rapidly to let her change into her armor.
Only then she noticed it had been cleaned from the blood, rust and other grime and polished. The thought was a nice one, a bit less now that she felt the duty to go thank the armor-smith of that god-forsaken place.

Backpack on her shoulders, she walked all the way to the entrance completely devouring a slice the vegetables pie Siri gave her while glancing around herself for what she hoped was the last time she set foot there.
Approaching the gates, there he was: Vulpes wearing a combat armor instead of his usual Legion armor.
It was weird, but she understood the necessity of a spy to not wear the recognizable crimson robes his faction sported, parading them around.
They had Vexillarii for that already, anyway.

“Are you ready?”
“Yes, let’s go and pray that I don’t regret having breakfast before riding the boat.“ She joked, walking towards the raft where Lucullus awaited them with that smug-ass face that seemed way too common in that place.
“What a delightful thought, Courier. Would you be so kind to remind me how you survived the wastes enough to even acquire the role you have in Caesar's regards?“ He asked in jest as she snorted a laugh she tried her best to stifle, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making her giggle.
She had to admit it, he had a way to get under her skin. His talent in looking friendly was remarkable, to say the least, even after attempting to her life as she slept.

“Being aimless, probably. I don't know, I just wanted to be helpful and help here and there... I ended up in your Legion.
Or I simply am too cool like that.
I don’t know, honestly, you theoretically stalked me though, so why don’t you try and expose your theory about it?“

He raised a brow and smirked. “Well, maybe that overheating head of yours is so focused on the task at hand that doesn’t even perceive the dangers surrounding it.
Or maybe you are so unaware of the world around you that you are just able to pass through everything thanks to the astonishment you leave people with ill-intentions in.
What version pleases you the most, Courier?“

She found herself genuinely laughing at his words, sitting on the floor of the raft as they departed to the other edge of the river.

“Maybe a mix of them, who knows. Guess you will have the time to discover it yourself now that we'll have to travel together you don't need to engage in voyeurism to paint yourself a picture of my being.”
She concluded stealing a chuckle out of the Frumentarius sitting on the opposite side, scouting the area with his gaze and shooting down the occasional Lakelurk that got too close to their make-shift boat.
The Cursor warned them about their soon arrival, so both of them wore their backpacks, preparing to land without another word, but occasional glances here and there, subtle attempts from the both of them to gather as much information as possible of the other while Lucullus, completely focused on avoiding crucifixion by accidentally drowning the head of the Frumentarii in a raft incident, secured the raft at the wharf.

Their journey just begun, yet Vulpes already found himself perplexed as he saw the way non other than Aurelius greeted the courier: he picked her up despite her embarrassed protests and squeezed the tiny woman who just yielded and hugged him back, chuckling slightly.

“You big bastard, Did your beloved Decanus still beat my record or y'all are still messing around?” She asked so smugly as Aurelius, on the other hand, went completely serious as he inspected the newly acquired injury at the side of her face with careful hands cradling her head so gently, Vulpes wondered if it was the same Aurelius he knew. 
He was well aware of his weakness regarding pretty women, but seeing him actually respect one like that and engaging in such trivialities was something else completely.

He lowered her to the ground and she hugged him once more, soothing his worry with a soft smile, before rummaging her backpack to pull out a restored Nuka-Cola truck, a glowing space-rocket toy and a little sports toy car Aurelius took, trying so hard not to show the shine in his eyes before pulling the Courier in his room.

The last thing Vulpes expected out of observing that exchange from the Overlook was to see the Centurion's face: if that wasn't a look of love for the profligate, it couldn't be anything else. And yet there he was.
Not even two minutes later, however, Six was already outside, her cheeks a pretty pink and her hands full of a few books, comics and a line of clumsily placed plasters along her injury as she saluted Aurelius and stuck the newly acquired goods in her backpack.

Only after reaching the Overlook she bothered to look for vulpes, gracing him with her attention, immediately switching to that look of annoyance and detachment she always reserved for him, despite the traces of delight left by her encounter with one of the most fierce officers of the Legion.

“... What are you looking at?!”