Part One: The thief

Calli hummed along to the radio as she dusted and rearranged the items on the shelf by the stairs, occasionally bursting into song. It was just as well she lived on the hill away from the main part of the city since her singing was particularly bad; even her super mutant partner Hawk said she croaked like a frog. Not that he minded. When they sang together in the wasteland, usually when she was just a bit wasted, the wild dogs usually howled along. Or maybe in protest, Calli was never sure about that though it always amused her.

She was in her home in Megaton, one of the safer cities in the wasteland. It was here the Rangers had their training facilities. The city was surrounded by high walls as well and the large triangular gates into the city were closed at dusk. It was well past dusk so only residents would be allowed in without being challenged by the sniper on the top of the enclosing wall. She was feeling happy and contented tonight, which was odd for the little warrior who rarely felt safe.

She heard the footsteps approaching outside, but paid them little heed. They were hushed by the downpour of rain and the loud music, making them harder to make out. Hawk was probably coming in a day early. She was early herself. She didn't even look up when the door opened.

She lifted the Abe Lincoln figurine and wiped it carefully, singing "When the skies are dark and the land trembles beneath our feet, I will feel the beat, the beat of your heart next to mine, You will dry my tears and calm my fears, you make me whole, you make me whole… "

"Don't move", the deep voice said sternly. Calli froze, her eyes widening at the unfamiliar voice. "Put the statue down carefully and put your hands out to your sides.", he said. Calli did as she was told. She really didn't want to drop the antique figurine; there wasn't another one like it in the wasteland, maybe in the world.

"Back away from the stand. Don't turn around!", he commanded as Calli started to turn. She docilely complied. "Now kneel and put your hands behind your back."

Calli did as she was told. She was berating herself for having become complacent, but at the same time she was curious. Who would be foolish enough to be accosting her in her own home, surrounded as she was by the Rangers? She heard him moving lightly toward her. She didn't move. He obviously didn't intend to kill her, or he would have shot her when he came in. Dressed only in a short shift, it could have done her serious harm.

She heard him lay his weapon on the ground; it sounded like a Chinese combat rifle, serious firepower for a home invader. She felt the tug at her wrists as he bound them with rope. She didn't move.

The man surveyed the girl with a feeling of disappointment. He had been so sure this was the home of the legendary Calli, but this was a mere wisp of a girl. Calli should be old by now, at least older than his parents, and legend had it she always hid behind her armor because she was badly disfigured. Did he have the wrong house? He didn't see how. He did hope she wasn't planning on becoming a singer, whoever she was.

She did have silver blonde hair streaked with various shades of pink, but the small implement on her left wrist resembled a watch more than a Pip-boy, and these wouldn't be definite identification anyway. Many girls, young and not so young, affected these symbols by stripping out their hair and dying in pink streaks, and fake Pip-boy wrist ornaments were all the rage among the younger set. Besides, no one had actually seen the scavenger warrior's face in a generation, so only rumor and old peoples failed memories described her.

If this was Calli it had been much too easy, but he couldn't believe it was her. He didn't want to hurt this girl. He pulled out the scarf and placed it around her eyes to blindfold her. Before he could tie it, Calli reacted. She twisted around and back, catching him off guard and knocking him to the ground as she came to her feet. Her foot swung out, hitting him soundly on the side of the head. His vision went dark as he grabbed for her. Another savage blow connected with his head and he collapsed onto the floor.

Calli quickly pulled her legs and body through her arms, her tied hands now in front of her. He wouldn't be out long. She hastened to the cupboard where she kept her meds and pulled out the bottle of chloroform. Pouring some onto a cloth she hurried back down to where the man was beginning to come to. She held it over his mouth and nose until he was out again. She now had time to work the knots loose and free her hands.

She wrestled his limp body out of his soaking wet jacket and using the same rope he had used on her she bound his wrists, only more tightly than he had bound her. Fetching more rope she lightly bound his ankles together. It took most of her prodigious strength to haul the 195 pounds of heavy muscle across the floor to the work bench and prop him into a sitting position against one leg. Running a rope through the bound wrists she lifted the arms over his head and tied the rope tightly around the clamp fastened to the work bench. This would suit her purposes, she thought with satisfaction.

With the intruder secured she locked the front door against the storm raging outside. It could take awhile for him to come to. She knelt beside the unconscious figure and studied his features. She had seen this particular man at work before. Though he always wore a partial mask that hid his upper face, it didn't disguise his brilliant blue eyes, and the wide brimmed hat he usually wore when working never completely concealed the softly curling, dark hair. He wasn't wearing that attire or the dark, sleek leather armor with the custom markings that were his hallmark either, but she had no trouble recognizing him.

He was known as the Highwayman, a bandit, but she had never heard that he had ever killed anyone he robbed, and he never took everything a person had. He had a predilection for richer folk. Calli had run into him before, though he had never been stupid enough to accost her. She had always found him attractive, especially when he smiled, showing his white, even teeth, his eyes lighting with silent laughter.

She indulged herself studying his muscular, lean form, imagining running her hands through his thick damp hair, brushing her fingertips along those strong arms, kissing that sensuous mouth….. She rubbed her face lightly over his cheek, feeling the rough burr of a day's growth, catching his scent, the mingling of leather, the dust of the wasteland, a hint of the soap he had used this morning, and under it all his unique, very masculine scent. She closed her eyes, letting desire course through her. She sighed. It had been months since Sergei had left her. Maybe it was time to move on.

He groaned as his vision began to clear, his head aching from the blows and drug. He shook his head then decided he probably shouldn't do that when pain slashed behind his eyes.

"You'll be all right in a minute.", the soft voice said. He opened his eyes, his vision slowly clearing, half focusing on the shapely calves beside him.

"Here, drink some of this", she said, kneeling beside him and holding a glass to his lips. He swallowed the liquid she tipped slowly into his mouth. It was sweet and tangy, really rather good. He struggled to focus his thoughts.

"All better now?", she asked, setting the glass aside. He took in that he was bound, his arms above his head, while the girl kneeled beside him. Panic rose in him. He was tied up and had been forced to drink some unknown liquid! He shoved down the panic and forced himself to relax. Schooling his expression into one of casual interest he looked up at his captor. She seemed barely more than a teenager.

"Who are you?", he asked. Her eyes widened in mock surprise.

"You don't know? You invade my home, and you don't even know whose home it is?", she asked.

Calli slid her leg over his, so she now straddled him, her short dress riding up over her thighs, sitting on his lap. She leaned forward, her face inches from his, her hands on her thighs. He felt a tightening in his nether regions as she shifted against him. Her storm grey eyes roiled as she stared into his.

"I am Calli, Highwayman.", she said softly. He could see the dark red lashes and dark red, arched brows. He briefly wondered if her private hair was red, too. A brief smile flickered across her face, as though she had caught his thought. He couldn't know she was wondering if his skin under his casual attire was as tanned as his face and arms, or milky white as many men's were.

"Are you?", he asked skeptically. "I've always been told Calli was an old, disfigured woman and that she had a Pip-Boy permanently attached to her left wrist. You're definitely not old, or disfigured, and that looks more like a watch than any of the Pip-Boy's I've ever seen."

Calli laughed softly, corralling her wayward thoughts. "How many real Pip-Boys have you ever seen? Anyway, mine was absorbed by my body years ago. The housing sloughed off piece by piece as the internal works integrated with my body's systems, so now it truly is a part of me. Only the face shows and I'm not sure why it never gets absorbed, but it doesn't. I am Calli."

She was so close he could see that her hair coloring really was natural with not a sign of darkening at the roots. He glanced down at the ornament on her wrist. It truly did seem to be partially encased in her flesh. With her nervous system and musculature integrated with the machine's VATs feature, it was no wonder she rarely missed a target, no matter how far away.

She leaned back and narrowed her eyes as he assessed her. "You usually rob travelers don't you?", she asked abruptly. "What are you doing invading my home?"

"That's not a very profitable enterprise these days. The best caravans are too well guarded. I decided to expand my business.", he said drily.

"Well, you didn't plan this out very well, did you?", she asked.

He shrugged, flashing her a smile. "I figured there would be one or two items in your home that would be worth going after. Besides I had it on good authority no one would be here. I guess it wasn't that good."

She reached up and took his face between her hands. She never blinked, staring directly into his eyes, as she said, "I have some unique and dangerous items in this house, thief. If it's my things you want, be careful what you take. You don't want me coming after you. If you're looking for shelter from the storm you can use Hawk's room, up the stairs, 1st door on the right." She dropped her hands, and slipped to her feet with a light, graceful movement.

She smiled down at him suggestively, still straddling his legs. "If it's me you want, my bedroom's up the stairs, 2nd door on the right." Before his stunned mind could respond, she stepped over his legs and headed toward the stairs.

"Calli", he called, rallying. "Aren't you going to untie me?" She hesitated on the stairs and turned to look at him.

"Nope.", she said, laughing, and went on up the stairs.

The Highwayman stared after her for a moment. That was unmistakably an invitation, but she wasn't going to help him out here. Still, he was sure she had left him with a way to free his self or why the invitation? With her removed from his lap he could pull his legs up. The ropes around his ankles weren't that tight. He easily pulled himself upright. Now his hands were in front of him. Standing, he studied the ropes holding him to the work bench.

It looked like the work bench hadn't been used for a long time. It was covered with miscellaneous objects that appeared to have just accumulated there. An empty glass, a chess board and several books partially hid a wrench and hammer. The end of a pencil peaked out from under the items. A slight layer of dust covered everything. He frowned at the accumulation. He could reach his wrists up to his mouth, and worry at the knots with his teeth, but she had tied them very tightly.

He knew the rope around his wrists was pretty sturdy. It was his rope after all. The other rope didn't seem as tough. He worked at the knots in the rope holding him to the vise, but it was difficult with his hands tied together and they were too tight; they didn't budge. Picking up the end of the pencil he eased it out from under the other items. Using it as a wedge he slowly worked it into the knot, gradually loosening it. Finally it gave and he unwound the rope from around the vise. He slid back down and pulled his feet up to work at the rope binding his ankles. It was awkward with his wrists still tied but they were pretty loose so he managed to untie them and slide them off, freeing himself to move around.

He now had a good selection of sharp blades to cut off the rope around his wrists. On the wall beside her chair was an artistically arranged selection of various swords and knives, obviously meant as much for decoration as storage. He chose a knife and carefully cut at the ropes around his wrists until they gave way.

His jacket was hanging over the back of the chair, his rifle propped beside it. Since it was still wet he decided to leave it there. The small kitchen didn't hold anything much of interest except the fact the refrigerator was empty and not plugged in. Maybe it didn't work? He went back past the front door and into the door at the foot of the stairs. This proved to be a bathroom, just what he was looking for.

Calli looked up briefly at the sound of his footsteps. He was examining the downstairs. She had left his belongings, he could just take what he wanted and leave, but she didn't think he would. She smiled when she heard the water running in the bathroom, then went back to her writing. Soon she heard the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. He hesitated outside her door, but didn't open it. Well, she had expected he would satisfy his curiosity about her possessions. She continued writing to the sound of closets and cupboards being opened and closed. She looked up as the footsteps stopped outside her door. After a long moment, the door opened.

The Highwayman stood in the door and took in the room. On his left was a desk. The only things on it were a closed ledger, a file, several pencils, and a computer. Beside it was a filing cabinet. On top of the cabinet were several books. On the wall to his right was a display of hats and helmets of various types. This he took in at a glance.

What riveted his attention was Calli. She was sitting on the bed, the light blanket pulled up to her waist, leaning against the headboard. She was dressed only in a short, soft nightgown. It wasn't an especially sexy gown, but it was attractive in shades of green and blue and looked very comfortable. She had an open book on her lap and was holding a pencil. She had been writing. Now she smiled up at him and closed the book, putting it with the pencil in the bookcase headboard behind her.

She shifted slightly, lifting the blanket invitingly, exposing her long, slim legs. She smiled at him, as she indicated the empty space beside her with a questioning tilt of her head. It wasn't a demand. It was an invitation. He could accept or he could just close the door and leave. She wouldn't stop him. She couldn't possibly know about his past, could she? He hesitated, turning over in his mind the past, the present, possible consequences.

He quietly closed the door.