Work Text:
"You're fucking with me? Please?"
The smell of metal and dust clung to the air, stuffy and thick with the lack of ventilation. The shack they were in was small - peeling, manila paint on the walls and a singular swinging light bulb. It cast a dreary shadow over everything, defining every wrinkle over the old mechanic's face as he stood behind the counter. He hadn't been anything to look at before, but now that Six was mad, he was downright ugly.
When he didn't answer, she rolled her eyes in exasperation, stiff breath escaping her. "It can not cost that much."
The old man huffed, his mouth barely visible under his silvery facial hair, "It does. Four-thousand caps for both, take it or scram. I know you're good for it."
Damn it. Six had been putting off maintenance so long that her guns barely functioned; she finally called it quits when both jammed mid-fight with a group of fiends. Her mediocre tinkering couldn't get her any farther - she needed this, but she didn't even have that money to spare.
She knew removing her bandanas might get her a discount, but she wasn't in the mood to be charming at that moment. The Courier stood, arms crossed, tapping her gloved fingers and too focused to acknowledge whoever had just come through the door behind her. With a drawn-out and obnoxious sigh, she opened her mouth to barter again.
Before she could get another word out, A figure appeared at her side with a scent she knew too well. The sound of bottlecaps clinking against the counter reverberated, his pale hand drawing away only to be followed by that venomous tongue.
"It's on me."
Six reeled back, mouth still slightly agape with surprise, and watched as the old man greedily grabbed the money from them both.
"How generous. Give me a few hours, they'll be good as new."
He disappeared in a hobble through a left-facing doorway behind the counter, and the Courier's face twitched in annoyance. Vulpes Inculta.
"Courier."
"Didn't know you dirtied your pockets with degenerate money."
"I do, when it suits me. I may have pride, but I know when to accept where our currency is worthless."
When she turned to face him, he was wearing the same steeled face as ever. His pointed features drew to her like a hawk, his dark grey and willow shaped eyes in a permanent focus, mouth in a firm line. He looked stupidly out of place, even in his disguise; currently, a buttoned and ratty flannel, with a pair of dark trousers and a satchel around his hip. A pair of sunglasses were clipped to his shirt; hands placed faux-lazily in his pockets, dark hair cropped as usual.
Six turned to walk outside, and paid no mind as he followed her, the storm door clammoring shut behind them both. She took her place leaning against the outside wall, checked the time on her pip-boy, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
"Want a smoke?"
"You know that I do not engage in those types of activities."
She shot him a sneer, pulling back her hooded cover and lighting one for herself. "Oh, Mr. Fox, I know."
She took a long drag, purposefully keeping her head straight so that the smoke billowed near his face. As usual, he made no attempts to show his annoyance, but she knew he was. She toyed with the fluffed hair that stuck awkwardly from her helmet, and shot another look at where Vulpes stood next to her.
"Are you going to tell me why you're here, or just watch me like a creep? Or is that why you're here?"
Vulpes took a breath through his nose, shoulders stiffening before he answered.
"Your actions are of interest to my lord. So, yes, I'm to watch you. Typically. As of now, I just happen to be in the area."
Six hummed in response, tapping ash from her cigarette and taking another drag. The sun was heavy over the horizon, spilling gold over the sand before the dark swathe of sky would take over. It brought a warmth to Inculta's unusual pallor.
"Okay. Thanks for paying for my repairs, anyway," She said without meeting his eyes, focusing instead on the smoking end of the cigarette between her fingers, arms crossed lax. "Though I'm probably just going to use them to bust more Legion heads. So..."
"I'll be expecting that, then."
Six shot him a confused look. He clarified.
"I don't think you realize how your... determination and bloodlust intrigues Caesar. Intrigues me, as well."
"Well," She spoke, dumbfounded, "I've certainly been called vivacious."
"As you seem to be. The lust for life in a dead nobody doesn't exactly move silently in the Mojave. You make waves in the prey territory, and expect us not to take notice?"
Six didn't have an answer. She continued to smoke down her cigarette, occasionally picking at the dirt under her short, ragged nails. Vulpes didn't move; he shifted on his feet a few times, making her think he would leave, but he didn't. After an unremarkable ten minutes, she spoke again.
"So... pillage any innocent settlements lately?"
Vulpes looked like he was ripped from a deep thought, meeting her with a scoff. He looked at her with an intense gaze that was almost hard to match.
"I have a request, Courier."
She nodded for him to continue.
"Meet me for dinner."
Six coughed, mid-drag, slamming a fist to her chest as smoke puffed from her nose. "You- me- ... what?"
He looked unamused, "Join me to eat dinner. I would ask you to suggest somewhere; you're more familiar with the profligates in this area than I."
Her eyes stayed wide, watery from her coughing fit, but she straightened her posture and tried to find composure.
"I don't... know, Mr. Fox. Say, you think Nipton had any places to grab a bite?"
Still unamused. "No, it did not. Besides, we're a little far out of the way."
"Uh... you're serious?"
Vulpes' jaw steeled, and that was all the answer she needed. In fact, he almost looked like he was getting embarrassed; Six couldn't stop a smile from cracking in her bewildered face.
"Okay, well... I guess we're closest to Freeside. They have a bakery, um... and I think a restaurant just opened, since things are doing better there-"
"Is Freeside not the abhorrent pinnacle of degeneracy?" He almost sounded like a mockery of his own beliefs in his sincerity.
"Okay, damn, I guess. You wanna take me to the Strip?"
"No," he interjected, not missing a beat, "I'm interested to see how you'll get there on your own."
She clicked her tongue in thought, throwing the butt of her cigarette to the ground and smashing it with the toe of her boot. She tapped her fingers on her crossed arm, looking around almost awkwardly, before gazing back up at Vulpes.
"So... there's a place to eat right outside Novac." I live there. This is so stupid. Is this the trap? Is this what he wants me to say? "It's... it's nice. Kind of cute, even, like diner-style. We can go there."
Vulpes pursed his lips, leaning back on the outside wall of the shack. Seemingly making up his mind, he turned to her again.
"Good. After your guns are finished, we can go."
"Alright, Mr. Fox. It's a date."
*******
A casual get together with Caesar's greatest Frumentarius. No... a dinner date with Vulpes Inculta, one of Caesar's most trusted soldiers. Oh, nothing, I just grabbed a bite to eat with that guy in the fox head who killed every single person in Nipton... what's up with you?
Six tested out explanations in her mind, wincing with the prospect of each one. She could practically imagine the agape jaws of each of her friends - Raul, the exception, maybe he'd just laugh in her face. The others... Jesus Christ...
ED-E sat idle next to her in the booth, and she fingered at the laminated menu awkwardly. There were very few times in Six's life that she felt awkward or embarrassed, and this definitely took the cake; she felt like she couldn't get the upper hand on anything, sitting across from Vulpes Inculta in an unassuming diner. It was so weird, she pinched herself nearly a hundred times trying to wake up from whatever fever dream this had to be.
Vulpes himself looked oddly stiff - even more than usual. Still in his laughable disguise, he sat across from her, eyeing the menu like he could barely read it. Only a few other people were in the establishment; some singles at the bar, some couples in booths and a few children. The jukebox quietly sang the voice of Mister New Vegas, who announced that Nelson had been reoccupied by the NCR. Esther sank lower in her seat, feeling nervous sweat form on her brow.
They had talked on the fifty-something minute walk there, sarcastic quips from her as per usual, and some weirdly vague Legion shit from Vulpes. Eventually, they steered away from political matters, talking more about her personal vendetta that was taking her to Vegas in the first place.
Once they'd entered the diner and been seated, the conversation was quickly dulled like a blown-out candle. If even Vulpes was awkward, she wondered what the hell they were even doing here. Soon, she was saved from their hell of silence when the familiar waitress walked up to the booth, clouding them in the smell of cheap floral perfume.
"Well howdy there, missy! Long time no see! Where you been?"
Six sat up further, reaching out to shake the waitress' hand, her wrist jingling with an absurd amount of bangles as they did so.
"Hey there, Judy. Ah, I've been all over, seems like my home is on the road these days," She shot the most genuine smile she could muster up, hoping desperately the woman wouldn't mention her living in Novac.
"Well, I'm happy you came to visit me. I was starting to miss my favorite customer!"
"You know I couldn't stay away from that pretty face for long, Jude."
Judy laughed, pink-painted lips wide as her cheeks flushed with red. She quickly waved her embarrassment away, still smiling, when she gestured to Vulpes.
"Oh, but where are my manners? Who's this fine gentlemen, and what'll you kids be having?"
Six watched as Vulpes seemed to grimace at her calling them kids, but she hoped he would ignore it.
"This is my... friend, Mr. Fox. And I'll just have what I usually do, the-"
"Hot black coffee, sweet gecko steak with an extra jalapeño on the side. Yes, missy, I know," Judy winked, turning her attention to Vulpes. She held out her hand to him, and he reluctantly shook it.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Fox. You be nice to her, you hear? She may look like a pretty little flower, but she could rough you up in a second!"
"Judy-" Six groaned, quickly interrupted by Vulpes clearing his throat and speaking.
"I wouldn't dream of getting on the wrong side of her," He said, snaking tone venomous with disguised charm, "It's an honor to be sitting here already."
What the fuck? Six sat rigid, unamused and annoyed with the display. She hoped he would quit whatever the hell he was doing and order - ignoring the way her face and stomach went cold with embarrassment.
Her head went hazy as she dreamed up ways to kill Vulpes, only tuning back in when Judy's laughter died, and she took their menus before departing.
"What did you get?" She grumbled.
"Coffee, and pancakes. The picture of them on the menu looked... acceptable."
Six perked up, eyes widening in surprise. "For real? Like, with the swirly little whipped cream top? With fruit?" She twirled her finger in mock effect of the topping.
"Yes."
"Do you like sweet stuff? I thought you were hungry for like... food."
"I am," He clarified, looking impatient, "There is barely anything here without meat."
Six's mouth fell open slightly, her coffee brown eyes trained on his gray stare. She smiled, slightly, a scoff preceding her speech.
"You don't eat meat? Is that a Legion thing?"
"No, it's a 'Mister Fox' thing," He used his fingers to mock-quote the nickname she insisted on repeating, and she felt her face flush despite her intrigue.
"Well..." She tapped her fingers on the table, "I guess we could've gone somewhere better. Hell, I could have made you something, if I knew that."
"You... cook?" Vulpes' eyebrows raised, and for once, he didn't look like he was scrutinizing everything around him.
Six smiled at the mention. "Yes! I love to. I like the stuff here, but when I'm home, I prefer to do it myself. Omelets and kebabs, and even some soup, when I get my hands on noodles. I can't really stand soup without 'em.
"You know, I can make a really good soup; I use the noodles from an old Blamco box - the macaroni - and then a broth from a lot of dried herbs and vegetable scraps I keep. I usually cook some brahmin real slow so it's all tender in there, but it would still be good if I left it out. Maybe just tomatoes, onions, and serrano peppers, for you."
Vulpes sat back, his arms crossed over his flannel chest. "Yes... that sounds acceptable."
"Duh, of course it does. I might not have everything right up there, but I do know I must've been cooking for a long time."
Six tapped her temple to finish it off, and Judy arrived with two mugs of coffee.
Well over an hour had passed; both of them dug into their food, Vulpes commenting that he'd rather be eating what she offered. Six had to admit, the sight of a Frumentarius eating pancakes with whipped cream was stupidly hilarious, especially when he was dressed as some nobody-farmhand. They stayed pleasantly cordial, though at times Six laughed harder than she cared to admit. Vulpes even seemed to break - just slightly - when a smile came over his features at things that surprisingly didn't involve the Legion.