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The Courier had dragged him in the small hours of the morning to the Sunset Sarsaparilla headquarters. Telling Vulpes of a tale that had been shared with her. A story of caps and cowboy.She had grown more comfortable around him as they travelled together, engaging in conversations and sharing thoughts.
He would indulge her, if it meant satiating that curiosity of hers.
Their discovery of the building turned sour quickly after they entered. Raiders, whom must have heard of the tale, had scattered across the headquarters. They had found no better way than to litter its floors with explosives, their patience wearing thin. They soon found the Courier and Vulpes walking across the hallways, taking the opportunity to strike first.
Perhaps, had they not be high on chems, would the Raiders have realized the foolishness of their explosives. The danger of placing them in an old building. Perhaps they would not have triggered it, trapping Vulpes and some of them under the fragile floor. The Courier had but a second to turn her head following the sound, watching as the ground gave way under his foot. Debris forcing her to retreat away.
The profligates and their foolish tales.
Thanks to the will of Mars, Vulpes had been mostly unarmed.
Vulpes tried to regain his bearings, his whole side screaming in pain. Dust floating in the air as the impact of the explosion reverberated across the building. A single strip light flickered pathetically above him, casting a pale light. The explosion had seemed to take care of the raiders, their corpses laying near him. He must have landed in the lower level of the headquarters, the hole from which he had fallen now covered by debris, rendering his escape more difficult.
Vulpes limped his way hallways after hallways, ripper gripped tightly in his hand, searching for an exit.
He wondered what had happened to the Courier. Wondered if she had gotten caught in the collapse, if the raider had taken the opportunity of it to attack. Hopefully, she would be well. He hoped that she would be.
A loud bang could be heard further down the hall, startling Vulpes, the ripper steady in his hand. It rang harder and harder until the hinge of a nearby door broke. The wooden panel falling flat against the floor, kicking up the dust in the motion. Light emanated from the new opening, illuminating the darkened hallway.
A lone voice emanated from it, inquisitively calling out Vulpes name.
The Courier.
Vulpes felt his expression soften as she popped her head into the hallway., blood stops scattered across her jaw. Vulpes had little time to watch before she stood in front of him, silently taking in his state.
She lifted one of her hands, using it to move his chin side to side, checking for any signs of injuries. The debris must have scratched him during the fall. She looked as if she wanted to say a dozen thing at once, her silence unreadable as always. Once content with her search, she let her head fall upon his shoulder, hers sagging in relief.
She brought him ever so closer, letting her arms rest on the small of his back. A heavy sigh leaving her lips. He could feel her hands slowly caressing his back, trying to ease his aching body.
It disgusted him.
He was a Legionnaire, the leader of the Frumentarii. He stood among the most loyal the Legion, to its ideals. Caesar himself entrusted him with some of the important missions to lead. He had proven his worth time and time again.
He had been faithful to its adage since the Legion rescued him. Culled Any want or desire, even the carnal desire.
And now he was following a profligate woman across the Mojave, trying to rally her to the Legion. To make her understand, to make her see, all that the Legion could achieve. All because she stood in Nipton, because she couldn’t stay an uninteresting stranger. And he couldn’t help but tell Caesar of her.
It disgusted him even more how much he craved it.
How her mere arrival had put his mind at ease. His quivering hands latching onto the lapels of her coat. How he had leaned into her embrace as if he had done so a thousand times.
He yearned for her attention and despised himself for it.
He found himself indulging each of her curiosity, letting her lead them across the Mojave. Wanting her hands to wander, to find their ways under his clothes and touch him. Finding his body, each morning, reaching for hers. Remembering the warmth of her hand, days after she had grazed his. Wondering how her lips would feel against his.
The Courier tightened her grasp around him.