Nevada-Arizona border
April 2285

It was early evening before they set out for the final stretch to Cottonwood Cove. Maria had insisted on spending a day hiding out, deep in a cave. "If we travel at night it won't be as hot," she said. "We don't have a ton of water left with us, and might not find more before we get there."

Vulpes couldn't argue with her reasoning, but he was anxious to finish their trip. Since he had woken to the sound of her crying, quietly, as she maintained watch near the cave entrance, he decided not to press the issue. She had wiped her face quickly, blushing and regaining control as soon as he approached. Sorry, was all she told him. Just thinking about my friends at home. Clearly embarrassed he had seen her; the entire event made Vulpes suspect this was something that occurred on a regular basis. Part of him had wanted to sit with her, find some way to comfort her. It was an unfamiliar situation for him, but the desire to somehow correct the situation was powerful.

Instinct, he reminded himself. Instinct and foolishness.

He kept his distance instead, pretending he hadn't noticed anything was amiss. It wasn't long before she was back to normal, sipping a Nuka Cola as he once again inspected his weapons.

The trip had taken longer than he anticipated. The biggest flaw with Maria's pip-boy tool, he determined, was that it was attached to Maria. She was, quite possibly, the worst navigator he had ever known. It wasn't that she couldn't follow a map, it was that she would lead them off on strange twists and turns, only because something else would hit her radar and pique her curiosity.

Vulpes hadn't even known Ulysses owned a brahmin ranch, but she dragged him there- and several other places besides. Finally, after they had been skirting the edge of Nipton for the second time in a week, Vulpes had demanded they map a direct route.

"What are you looking for?" she had asked him again as they waited for nightfall.

"When I find it, I'll know," he said.

"You're not telling me something," Maria finally announced. It wasn't a question, she was simply informing him of what she suspected. He shrugged, but didn't comment. There were many things Vulpes didn't tell Maria. She rolled her eyes and returned to examining her pip-boy. The device's light inside the dark cave gave her an eerie, ghostly appearance, casting deep pits of shadow around her eyes and cheekbones, turning olive skin sallow and making her arched brows look sharper than usual. When she narrowed her eyes in concentration, lips pinched, the expression gave him pause. "What?" Maria asked, not looking up.

"Nothing," Vulpes said.

"Nothing you do is for nothing," she said. "You made a noise. Something wrong? Are you all right?"

"Of course, I'm fine," Vulpes said, looking away. "For a moment you reminded me of someone I knew. Used to know. I was surprised."

"Anyone I'd know?" she asked, looking up curiously. The angle changed and it was her again.

"They're dead now," was all Vulpes told her. He didn't know how she would respond if he told her that, for a brief moment her expression had reminded him of Caesar... but he had a strong suspicion her reaction wouldn't be positive.

"I'm sorry," she said, reaching over and touching the top of his hand.

Vulpes made a noise of acceptance, not moving his hand from hers. "I've been in the Legion since I was nine. People die. Frequently." He didn't want to focus on the topic any longer. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at maps," she said. He moved to see, but misjudged the distance in the dim light. He ended up sitting down close enough that their hips were touching. She didn't seem to notice, so he pretended not to, either. She felt warm next to him. "These are old," Maria said, gesturing, "so they might not be good anymore."

"All information has value," he said. "Tell me what you know."

She nodded, narrowing the focus of the map with a dial. "So, here's where we are," she said. "The road will take us right past Searchlight, which is… not a great plan."

"No, it isn't," he agreed. "I was thinking about that myself." Vulpes was gesturing to her arm. She held it out and, after a moment of fumbling to determine which dial changed what aspect, he was able to adjust the map. "If we cut straight south from here, and then east, we can bypass Searchlight. And stay out of sight from the ranger station you don't have marked yet."

She nodded. "Yeah, that would work. Right here, though, we should stop." It was a tiny dot on the map, overlooking the camp. Vulpes hadn't been aware of anything there.

"What's that?"

"NCR sniper nest," Maria replied casually.

That was something he hadn't known about. "Ignare!" he hissed, fist hitting the dirt to his side. "That empty headed, blind, idiotic… catamite!" Maria was staring at him, mouth open in surprise. She had moved back slightly. "Aurelius was in control of Cottonwood Cove," Vulpes attempted to explain his outburst. "He missed a snipers' nest not even a mile from his own bed? Was he that busy drinking, smoking, and fucking slaves?" Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. "That is… most certainly something we would need to check," he said after a moment.

"Yeah," she said, nodding slowly. "Are… are you all right, Vulpes?"

"I'm absolutely furious," he said. "But that is nothing new. It's near sunset, we should go."

The sniper's nest was long abandoned. Maria stood, back to Vulpes, as he inspected it. Watching the horizon, she noted a small merchant caravan, a couple wild bighorners and, in the distance, smoke from the small camp outside the irradiated remains of Searchlight. "We're clear," she announced.

"This post is dead," he announced. "They didn't even pick up the final reports after the battle. The last notation in this book is dated just before Hoover Dam." He removed a few mines from his pack. "No harm in caution, though." After a moment Vulpes had rigged the only chair to explode if anyone sat down. Crawling under the table, he shoved folded paper under three legs. Under the fourth went another mine, just low enough that something would have to be set on the table, throwing off the balance, before it went off. "That should do," he said, before doubling back. Maria watched him set up a bear trap, right in front of the nest. It was so obvious it might as well have had a flag. "Even better," he said, smiling. "If anyone shows up they'll see the bear trap and, after disarming it, assume everything is safe."

The proceeded, slowly, down the path. "I don't think anyone's been here for a bit," Maria said. The ground had a dusty, abandoned look.

"No," Vulpes said in agreement. She checked her gun, making sure a round was chambered just in case. Vulpes turned his head. "That sounds horrible."

"What?"

"Your gun," Vulpes said. "It sounds awful. When did you last clean it?" She looked down, trying to remember. "Maria?"

"I'm thinking," she said.

"If you can't remember, it's been too long," he announced.

"I'm sorry." She usually replaced her weapons on a regular basis, so maintaining them never really occurred to her. Not when she could just take a new one off someone she killed. This gun was special, though.

"Don't apologize to me," he said. "It's your gun that is being slowly destroyed."

As soon as they arrived, Vulpes breaking into the small headquarters building with ease, she sat at a table and set to work. He watched her clean her pistol as he sorted through papers left behind, occasionally offering advice. "I've seen that gun before," he said finally, after walking her through replacing the firing pin.

"You probably have," she agreed. "I've been shooting things with it since we left Freeside."

"Not that," he said. "I never really paid attention until now. I've seen it before… all this."

She handed it over after a moment of hesitation. Vulpes examined it, running a finger over the engraving on the barrel. "Who is the woman?" he asked, looking at the woman painted on the grips. She stood in a gold oval, dressed in blue and wreathed in flowers. He brushed a thumb across the tiny painting. "She's beautiful. A goddess?"

"From the old-world," she said. "Graham told me about her, actually- I had no idea until then, just figured it was something pretty and flashy Benny liked. Get this, though… her name? Mary."

He raised an eyebrow. "Your name in English instead of Latin; that is an interesting coincidence. She even looks like you." Maria felt her face heat up, trying not to grin when she realized he had just called her beautiful, albeit very indirectly. Vulpes coughed, a sound of embarrassment. She looked up at him only to find he wouldn't meet her eyes, suddenly fascinated by the engraving on the barrel. Maybe he hadn't realized he was complimenting her, either.

"Isn't it?" she agreed. "But you're only saying she looks like me since we've both got dark hair. And my name is Spanish, not Latin."

"All roads lead to Rome," he said with a smirk, cheeks still slightly colored, before passing the gun back to her. "What was her domain?"

Maria shrugged. "Graham was a bit sketchy on that bit. I guess she was like the consort of his god, and the mother of another god. It was confusing."

"Some kind of fertility goddess," he said with a nod. "That would explain the flowers. The symbol of Venus is also a rose." He looked thoughtful. "It is likely an old world name for the same woman. Or Juno… Perhaps a mix of the two?" He must have seen Maria's look of confusion. "Juno is a goddess of fertility and motherhood. Venus is also a goddess of fertility but… more from the, ah, conception aspect than motherhood. Her primary domain is beauty and love." Maria raised an eyebrow at him, shaking her head. "What?"

"The Legion has a goddess of beauty and love?" She giggled.

"Her worship is more common among women," he admitted. "You've seen a Legion war camp. That doesn't give you an accurate picture of life in our lands. All it could show you was life in a war camp." Vulpes shifted, beginning to examine a fresh stack of paper as they spoke. "Believe me, I wasn't sleeping in a tent every night or wearing armor every day at home in Flagstaff."

"What did you wear?" she asked, suddenly curious.

"A tunica," he replied, rolling his eyes when Maria burst into laughter.

"I shouldn't even pretend I'm surprised," she said. "You legion boys do love showing off those legs, don't you?"

"I'm going to ignore you now," he said. "I say this just so you don't make the mistake of thinking I'm simply being quiet." She laughed even harder when he moved, pulling himself closer to the table so his legs were hidden below.

Maria made a face at him. "I didn't even tell you the most interesting thing about this gun." He did look over then, gesturing for her to go on. "The first time I saw it I wanted it more than anything in the world. Mostly because when I saw it, I was looking down the barrel."

"Benny's gun," Vulpes said. "Now I remember it. Lucius was annoyed when Caesar gave it to you. I suspect he wanted it for himself."

"Benny's gun," she agreed. "It was the first time I was ever shot. I think I more than earned keeping the thing."

"The first time you were shot it was two bullets in the head? You never do anything by halves, do you," he said.

"Clearly not," she agreed, grinning at him. "I was tempted to shoot Benny with his own gun, actually."

Vulpes considered that. "It has a lovely sense of symmetry," he said finally. "There's justice in killing him with the weapon he used to hurt you."

"There is," she said. "I thought it would be too quick and painless, though."

Vulpes smiled at her then. It seemed like the parts of her mind she tried to ignore, the parts that brought her to acts like killing half of the White Glove Society or wiping out every fiend in Vault 3, were the parts he most appreciated. You're a bad influence, she had teased him one evening, pointing that out.

Why? Vulpes had asked. Because I don't disparage you for killing people that deserve to die? Because I'm not willing to pretend all lives are equal? He had smiled at her then, and she was reminded of his comments in Nipton about the weak and the strong. The world is better with fewer fiends and cannibals. If I comment, it is only because pointing out your double standards amuse me.

"You should have left Benny to me, in that case," Vulpes said. "I was planning to crucify him until Caesar decided you would be the master of Benny's destiny."

"I was tempted," she admitted.

"We were all fairly surprised by your decision," he admitted.

"I had a point to prove," she said. "Well, two of them." Vulpes looked at her, waiting for Maria to go on. "The first was that Benny could only beat me when he had three Kahns helping him to knock me out and hogtie me."

He laughed then, the skin around his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Oh, I think you more than managed to prove that," Vulpes said. "To call him outclassed would be too kind. I think the recruits were disappointed, they had been hoping for a show."

"That was the other thing," Maria said. He gestured for her to go on. "I wanted all of you Legion guys to see that women can fight just as well as men."

"And we are back to that again?"

"It doesn't go away," she said.

Dawn had broken not long after their arrival. Vulpes had searched through many of the papers on Auraleus' desk, finding nothing that stood out. Troop movement schedules, orders from Caesar, exactly what he would expect. Although he did find a comic book mixed into the pile, dog eared and faded. That stood out, but only because it served to make his head hurt.

"Ew," came a voice from the other side of the room. Maria had been poking around to see if there were any remaining provisions that would be of use.

Vulpes went to see. Maria was peering into the ancient refrigerator, which still pumped cool air. As it touched his skin he couldn't help but sigh with pleasure. "That is utterly disgusting," Vulpes said, staring at what might have once been a steak. "It must have been in there for…"

"Two years," Maria agreed. "I think the other stuff is all right, though. It's all prewar. Just have to watch the rads. And water doesn't go bad."

"True," Vulpes agreed. "Anything frozen might be all right." She reached for the upper door, stepping back as soon as it opened. "By the gods…" Vulpes gasped. Maria was making a gagging noise behind him. "Is that…?"

"I think so," she said, sounding ill.

He grabbed the door, closing it quickly. Just before it shut, he caught a glimpse of a Viper tattoo on the leg that had been stored inside.

Vulpes turned, leaning against the closed door. "I will kill him," he said quietly, eyes closed. "I hope the gods grant him dozens of lives, so I can end each and every one of them. I will start by forcing him to eat his own fingers. I will burn his crimes into his flesh, so all who see him will know. And I will end by ripping out his lying, traitorous, cannibal tongue before stringing him up on a cross in the middle of Flagstaff."

This was what he had been looking for. This was his sign. He had left Flagstaff, left the Legion… and it was now in the hands of a monster. "Please leave me," Vulpes asked Maria. He wanted to be alone. Alone with his anger, his horror. Knowing Auraleus had betrayed him was infuriating. Finding out he had committed the lowest crimes against nature, well… that just added a new level of agony to this nightmare.

Had he always been? Vulpes had known him since they were boys. When could this have happened… How? His stomach lurched and he sat down.

Maria didn't argue, quickly scurrying out of the room. Putting as much distance between herself and the fridge of horrors must have seemed like an excellent plan. He watched through the window as she darted to the other side of camp, hair flying behind her.

Maria was happy to distance herself from the nightmare in the fridge. She had encountered cannibals before, of course. Vulpes hadn't exaggerated when he teased her for killing a substantial chunk of the White Glove Society for that very crime. The White Glove Society wasn't in control of what might have been the largest army in the west, though. That was the main thought in her mind as she ran.

She found herself standing in the long-abandoned mess hall. Ripping cabinets open, Maria was face to face with box after box of prewar junk food. Mac and cheese, snack cakes, pork and beans. A dried lump of plant that might have been agave sat in the fridge, along with bottle after bottle of Nuka Cola and Sunset Sarsaparilla. The first freezer contained only ancient trays of ice, the second lakelurk eggs.

Relieved, she sat on the floor. Just him, she thought to herself. Not all of them, just Aurelius. Head back, she laughed. Just Aurelius? He was the new Caesar. He was the leader, and he was a cannibal. A cannibal with an army of thousands at his command… thousands who revered him as the right hand of a god.

Eventually she stood up again, grabbing two bottle of sarsaparilla from one of the refrigerators.

Walking back to the headquarters building her mind was whirring. What could they do to stop him? They were two people, they were powerless. She was nobody, it was years since he had been…

Had been…

She took off running, slamming the door open.

Vulpes looked up to see Maria in the door. Two bottles of soda were in her hands, her eyes wild. "Vulpes!" she demanded, slightly out of breath.

"Yes?" He had been expecting her. Through the window he had seen the woman running as though Cerberus was at her heels.

"How the fuck did some measly centurion end up Caesar when you were the head of the whole Frumentarii?"

He stared at her, suddenly realizing she had honestly not grasped the full truth of what happened until now. Vulpes had assumed she pieced it together long ago. After all, she had long known he was second only to the Legate in the chain of succession. "He got there first," Vulpes said, not for the first time. "He got there weeks before I did. He was in Flagstaff, in Caesar's villa, surrounded by his praetorian guard. I am one man. What would you expect me to do?"

She sat next to him at the table, eyes wide. "So… you're supposed to be—"

"But I'm not," he cut her off. "You didn't know this?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "You... you're supposed to be…"

"I'm not," he repeated, staring at her.

She stared back at him. From this close he could see her eyes weren't entirely brown- there were small flecks of gold at the very edge, just before the whites. He could almost watch her mind at work. If he had to guess, she was currently weighing pros and cons, itemizing greater and lesser evils.

"But what do you want?" Maria finally asked, breaking the silence. He knew then what she would do.

Vulpes was surprised by how quickly she made the decision. He had been prepared to argue, cajole, flatter, do whatever it took to prod her into action. For weeks, maybe months, he had been planning his next move while also attempting to determine the proper approach, the right moment. She was some anonymous courier raised from obscurity to fame, seemingly out of nowhere. For two years he had watched as it seemed like the entire Mojave had fallen at her feet, vying for her favor, begging for her aid.

Even now, when he knew her far better than any of those in power ever did, he still had no idea why. Caesar had said he was impressed with her hunt for Benny, but there was more than that. There had to be more than that. Even if he was simply amazed by her single-minded hunt for revenge, that did little to explain the NCR's interest.

Vulpes could never guess what the fates had in store, but he had a strong suspicion her part would continue. At the absolute minimum, she seemed to have caught the eye of Fortuna. Maria survived where others would die. Even better, she seemed to pass the same boon to others, if his continued existence was any indication. Fortuna was a powerful ally, that alone was reason enough to keep Maria on his side.

It seemed she settled on the idea almost as quickly as it occurred. He wondered if she was motivated more by her opinion of him, or her hatred of cannibals. Realizing he won either way, Vulpes smiled at her, fury making his skin feel taught. "What do I want?" he asked. "I want what's mine."

She smiled back at him, eyes still wild, and nodded.

Fortune loves a fool, Vulpes reminded himself. He wondered which one of them it was.

Thanks so much to all my readers, especially everyone who reviews, sends me messages, or adds me to their faves and alerts.
A whole bunch of people recorded Luck be a Lady, but Sinatra did it best. Because, well, Sinatra.