Their relationship was unconventional to say the least. Rather like a knight and his lady from the old days. Except she was a warlord and he was a disposed dictator of a country that no longer existed. But they managed to make it work somehow.

When Bass first stumbled into the fight tents of New Vegas, he was content to let his opponents beat the shit out of him every night. He was hopeful at some they'd beat him to death. Or at least unconsciousness. Then Duncan swept in with her tribe. She wasn't like the women he dated before. She wasn't soft or sweet or even all that kind. But then, he wasn't the same man that had fallen in love with those women. At that moment they were exactly what the other one needed.

Generally Duncan had a standing arrangement with Gould that she got to bed the winner of the fights. But she took one look at Bass and decided that, win or lose, he was hers for the night. Gould was more than happy to charge her extra for the scrap heap that was Sebastian Monroe after a hard night's fighting.

Duncan didn't get to be the leader of a war clan by being soft and pliable. She decided Bass was her new project and she was going to whip him back into shape. It reminded Bass of his days in the Marines. He missed those days.

Duncan gave him back his will and determination. He gave her a reason to smile again. And she was so pretty when she smiled.

The winners of the fights were paid better. And had more free time. Duncan encouraged him to start winning fights. He could buy out his freedom from Gould then they could ride out with her clan. It would be like the old days with Miles. Except he didn't have to worry about her killing him in a bid for power. Or whatever stupid reason had led his old friend to point a gun at him so many times. It was very clear that Duncan was in charge and he was her loyal soldier.

Each night she came to him before the fight. "Win for me," she'd whisper to him, slipping him some token of affection, usually one of her rings or a bracelet.

"Always," he would murmur in reply before kissing her. After he won and she took him to bed, he'd return the token to her. A few of them still found their way to his bedside table on those rare nights when he slept in his own bed.

The war tribes of the Wastelands were not ones to stay in one place very long. . The six months Duncan and Bass had spent together was grating on her clan. Not to mention they were running low on food and diamonds. She had to leave though neither of them liked it. Like the steadfast tin soldier of all the stories, Bass promised to wait for her until she came back. She left him one of her bracelets to hold onto.

Of course, Fate seemed to have different plans for them. He hadn't meant to get picked up by bounty hunters but he didn't know how to tell Duncan that in the short amount of time they had. And it wasn't something he wanted to bring up in front of his estranged son and Mini Miles. His relationship with the warlord was a private thing. Not something for public discussion.

But Duncan was a proud woman. And she despised anything that looked like weakness. He was sure her tribe saw their romance as unneeded and useless. When he couldn't explain what happened, Bass watched as Duncan's eyes grew cold. It was painful. He really did love her and had hoped she loved him.

Bass didn't' know what make of it when she showed up at his fight. It was well known that Duncan Page was a big fan of Jimmy King. But she was angry at him for not waiting. She should have been out gambling or drinking with her men. Instead she was his match, willing him to victory like always. He could see in her eyes that she still cared. Even if she would never in a million years admit it. When he left, there was an understanding between them.

Bass suspected that was why she sent her tribe to him. Because they were supposed to rule it together. That had been the great plan when they were talking late at night in Vegas. Like every other fight he had, Duncan wanted him to win against the Patriots. For her.

Their attacks were ruthless and constant. Bass couldn't even take a leak by the side of the road without having the red, white, and blue bastards trying to jump him. He beat them down easily, not even breaking a sweat. "You win that fight for me?" a voice called.

Bass swore he was dreaming as he turned around. Duncan stood there in the shadow of some trees, smiling slightly. She look so real, his mind could only come up with one word. "Always."

He dint' even realize he was moving forward until she was in his arms. They kissed until breathing became a requirement again and they were forced to part. He had so many questions about where she had been and how she survived the Patriots. The scars on the left side of her face gave him part of the story. The rest of it could wait, he decided as he kissed her again. Everything could wait while she was in his arms.

Bass slipped the battered bracelet back on her wrist. "You waited," she murmured.

"Always."