AN: I really liked Graham when playing the game, especially how both he and the Courier survived things they shouldn't. I felt that there would be some underlying emotions there. So this is a fun little tale about the Courier, Graham, and Vulpes. Hope you enjoy.

1

Jane was bone tired when she finally reached the small cave the tribal boy was leading her to. It had been a long, long year and all she wanted was to disappear and finally rest. That's why she had agreed to accompany the Happy Trails caravan in the first place. That and she wanted to be far from the constant surveillance of Caesar. Yet none of her hopes for the journey north seemed likely to come to pass after she found herself once more surviving something most wouldn't.

Turning to the young man that had met her shortly after the quick and violent death of her fellows, Follows-Chalk encouraged her to enter the cave on the edge of his people's camp. Something deep inside of her told her to refuse, to seek her own way out of the deceivingly peaceful valley, but the tribal's happy smile made her ignore the feeling. He seemed so hopeful and truly happy that she was there and that she was about to see a man she had only heard about in whispers.

"Alright," she muttered, taking in a deep breath while letting her hand drift to the machete at her side. It comforted her, the feel of Liberator against her calloused palms. She had earned the blade through blood and carnage. She sometimes went back to the moment when she made her decision to wipe out Forlorn Hope, wondering what life would have looked like had she not been infatuated with the Legion.

Yet she knew questioning her decisions wouldn't do anything for her now. She was a pawn of Caesar, despite originally joining him to avoiding being nothing more than a playing piece of the NCR. Zion was supposed to be an escape from all of that, from the blood and screams, the pressure to be the momentum behind a war. And now I'm visiting the Legion's co-founder, she thought wryly as she followed the caves twists and turns. What am I doing?

The thought only magnified as she entered a large open cavern, her eyes immediately finding the unsettling bandaged body of a man completely focused on loading a table full of pistols. She watched him work for a minute, the sharp snap of the clips being locked into place creating an eerie soundtrack to the silent man's work.

"We should have given you a better welcome on your first trip to Zion," he said suddenly, not bothering to look up from the flurried movements of his hands. "From what I hear the White Legs beat us to it."

She didn't say anything, taking in his rich voice and dark eyes that seemed to burn with energy under his white bandages. There was something intoxicating about the energy that seemed to pour from his body, forcing her eyes to stay on him despite wanting to look away from the spotted cloth that betrayed the condition of his wounds.

The Burned Man, though didn't seem to notice her staring as he continued. "White Legs seem to be the only visitors we have these days, and I wouldn't have expected anyone from the Mojave to come looking for us. And for it to be a courier to visit us, no less. Not the one I was expecting, but then again he wouldn't have come with the caravan."

"Ulysses is dead," she said, knowing that the courier the Legion seemed to be most concerned with was the psychotic man that should have carried the chip. It would have been so much easier for everyone had he done the job he was assigned, but he was too far-gone at that point. He was one death among many that she did not regret.

He paused in his work, his eyes meeting her whiskey colored eyes. "I see. Are you sure?"

"He's more dead than you turned out to be."

Graham looked at her for another moment before casting his eyes down and grabbing another gun. She wished she could see his face, read his expressions. That was her true power, along with having better than average aim and a strong arm. She could read people, see what they wanted to hear, sense their persuasions, and manipulate them with a few well-chosen words. The Burned Man gave her no clues to work off of. It made her feel strangely more powerless than she would bound and weaponless.

"How do you know so much about what happened to me?" she finally asked, deciding to stay away from the other questions that begged to be asked. Questions about Caesar, the Dam, and where her loyalty might take her someday.

"The Dead Horses are capable scouts. Nothing passes in and out of Zion without my hearing of it."

"Dead Horses for Frumentarii," she said softly, watching for any signs of reaction, anything she could use in her favor to find her way out of the farce of a paradise.

"Information is important, no matter what banner you follow," he answered, his voice even and direct. "Even bad information, like the type you'll have to give to your employers. New Canaan has been destroyed so they'll have no more need of caravans. All because of the White Legs. And Caesar, of course," he said looking up.

"How?"

"The White Legs want to join the Legion, of course. From that machete you wear I can imagine you know all about what it takes to complete his rite of passage."

"Destruction of an enemy," she answered without emotion.

His eyes met hers again for a moment, looking at her with the same intensity she had only seen on one other person in her life. He too, like the Burned Man, lived and breathed Legion. "I see. Who was your rite?"

"Who wasn't?"

"Caesar definitely uses his followers for all they are worth," he said blandly. "But I suspect that the destruction of New Canaan is most assuredly because of me."

Again the cavern was filled only with the symphony of metal clicking into place. Jane knew that what Joshua said shouldn't shock her; that Caesar was a vengeful and violent man, but it was still difficult to hear. She had seen the Legion's ruler during a moment of weakness. He had been so sick when she had arrived at Fortification Hill that he was willing to trust a woman to do the work of a Frumentarii. He had even honored her afterwards for a time, but with the returning of his strength that all changed. She had too much sway with people and he feared that, just as he clearly feared Joshua.

"I'll be plain with you," she finally said, breaking the silence. "I have no interest in what Caesar wants with you or this valley. I just am looking for someplace quiet to settle down."

"Then the good news is that we can help you find your way out of here. Daniel, one of the other New Canaanites, has made many maps of the region. The bad news is that we can't help you right now. Not with everything that's going on."

"I don't think you'll want me around longer than necessary," she countered. "I don't doubt that Caesar has men looking for me."

"I have been away from the Mojave for too long. Who are you to the Legion?"

"I'm the woman that handed them Hover Dam on a silver platter."

His hands stopped midair; the look in his eyes was the first sign of any emotion beyond passion that she had seen. There was shock filling his dark eyes, shock and something else that was subtler. She couldn't quite place it without seeing the rest of his face, but his words gave him away. "How? How did you manage that?"

"I have my ways," she answered, smothering a smile that threatened to pull on her lips. She could fill in the words he didn't use easily by the angry and jealous tones. How did she, a woman, do what he had failed to do? How had she managed to defeat Caesar's greatest enemy with no training, no real reputation as a warrior, and even without fully buying into the Legion lifestyle? It was the same sort of thing both the legate and Caesar's head frumentarii had demanded answered as the NCR left the dam before their forces were able to reach the general.

"Then why are you here, if you have the honor to give Caesar his first stepping stone to ruling the west?"

"I'm a woman."

Graham stared at her for a moment before turning back to his work. "Not a large enough crime to be burned alive," he muttered. "You are right, you are not someone that I would happily welcome to stay for long, but the situation remains as it is. We cannot help you until we have dealt with some of our problems here."

A sigh escaped her, despite her attempts at being as impassive as possible. It just seemed to typical that there would be a catch. There always was. "What do I need to do to get out of here?"

The former legate looked at her for a moment, his hand resting on a gun as he surveyed her. "Supplies. We need supplies."

He motioned her closer to her table as the sinking feeling that this, like everything else, was going to be complicated.

Vulpes watched from a nearby cliff through a set of binoculars taken from a destroyed NCR camp as she entered a cave. He had not liked being assigned to trail the Courier when there was so much work to be done in the Mojave and New Vegas. Even if he could understand the concerns Caesar had over the woman and her odd ability to draw entire populations to her. She was a loose end that, if swayed in a direction away form the Legion, could cause many headaches in their newest territory.

It was a shame she hadn't died during the battle, but as it was she had survived. They couldn't put a bullet through her eyes without reason, not when their hold on New Vegas was so fresh and tensions were tight in the entire region. He couldn't understand why so many people viewed this woman as some sort of savior, but they did and that in itself was a powerful thing. Therefore, he would watch and wait. See what she did, who she aligned herself with, and what her plans were since sneaking away from Fortification Hill in the dead of night.

He wasn't surprised that she left. He could see it in her eyes after the honor of holding Caesar's mark wore off and his lord began to treat her more like the woman that she was rather than some sort of special exception. What did surprise him is that she went to the region that held Caesar's greatest failure. It made for a very delicate situation, the woman who had the power to spark wars being near the man that was able to build armies.

He had no reason to believe she knew Graham was in Zion, but it didn't make him rest any easier. Joshua was dangerous and obviously as difficult to kill as the Courier was. He had no interest in testing his skill against either unless it was absolutely necessary. Instead, he would confront the woman and take care of the problem one way or another before she and Graham could become too close. He just hoped that Caesar wouldn't be too upset if she turned out to be a traitor.