A/N... Long gap, I know. Sorry... been super busy with work. I wanted to make sure I posted this before the weekend, though.
Oh, and this chapter is very decidedly M rated. *ahem* Title is Jerry Lee Lewis.
Thanks so much to all my readers and reviewers! Knowing people are reading is a great inspiration to write more.

Cottonwood Cove, Nevada
May 2285

Maria put her fingers to her lips. For a moment she imagined they were warmer where his mouth had been. Maybe they were. Heart pounding, she stared blankly forward for a moment, attempting to think clearly.

So he… That would explain what he had been babbling about outside. "Oh…," she said, everything becoming clear. "That." So Vulpes was… nervous. That was much less unsettling than him being crazy. Why he was nervous around her, she had no idea. She was just a bony-kneed former delivery girl with an extra hole in her head. And likely pushing the bounds of being able to use the description 'girl' for herself without looking slightly deranged.

Vulpes was waiting for her to do, well, something… and looking as though he was expecting to be hit, of all things. He has no idea. The knowledge hit her very suddenly. All the times he had caught her sneaking looks at him, all the silly comments she had let slip out unintentionally, all the excuses she found to stand close to him, or touch him… and he still didn't have a clue. Of course, she hadn't realized he had any sort of desire for her, either. Although in hindsight, it did explain quite a bit.

What a brilliant pair we are. It was almost enough to make her laugh, but she at least had the good sense to cut that short before it began. After all, he would probably think she was laughing at him.

This would change things. This would change everything. If things went according to their best plans she would end up… what, the mistress of the new Caesar? Was that any kind of life? Would she be happy? Would she be unhappy? Of course, she had no idea what would have happened to her otherwise. Somehow it hadn't occurred to her to consider that up until now.

And if things didn't work out… then what? Would they just go their separate ways? That had always been an option. And why hadn't she thought about doing so until now? Because she didn't want to go off on her own. She wanted to stay with him. The idea of not being around him made her chest ache.

Oh, she thought, pondering that for a few seconds. That was certainly something to take into consideration.

Really, it was a little late for pretending everything could stay the same. Vulpes had laid his cards on the table. He certainly couldn't claim he was drunk. She tried to decide if she wanted to turn back the clock. No… no she didn't. Even if it was the smarter option. But it wasn't an option. So why was she even considering it?

All this rushed through her head at once, a million ideas bombarding her. Vulpes was staring at her, looking crestfallen. She had waited too long, trying to think about what she wanted, and now he probably assumed she was rejecting him. Wait, was she rejecting him? The only reason she would was… well, the Mars thing. Shit, she thought. Maria had already managed to forget he was talking to ancient Roman war gods. How could she forget that? That wasn't good. But then, if he'd been doing the same since they met… nothing really had changed.

She had to do something. They couldn't stand here in silence until dehydration killed them both.

All right, Maria, she thought. Decide… one… two… three… now. Looking up at him, Maria felt her stomach flip.

"Damn it, Vulpes," she muttered, grabbing him by the collar. "I am going to be so pissed if you really are crazy."

He looked like he was ready to argue his sanity again, but couldn't get the words out before she was on him. All right, she thought as his arms went around her, good decision.

She had imagined how Vulpes would kiss on several occasions. Well, fantasized was probably the more accurate word. Maria had suspected he would be aggressive, maybe even violent. She had feared he would be utterly clueless. To her relief, neither was accurate.

One hand was tangled in her hair, the other on her lower back. Hungry, she thought, returning his kiss. She couldn't think of a better word to describe it. He was on her like a starved man. Perhaps he was. It was how she felt, no question about it. His tunic was still bunched in her fist, her knuckles gone white from the pressure. Vulpes' mouth was hot on hers and when he started to pull away she yanked him back with an arm around his shoulders.

Maria was pushing him back towards the open door and stairs.

He pulled back from her again, hands still on her. "Maria?"

"Hmm?" she replied, moving her mouth to his throat.

He made a sound that wasn't too far from a laugh, dropping his arms. "I'm not going to let you shove me backwards up a flight of stairs."

She pulled away from him, feeling her face burn. 'Carried away' likely wouldn't even begin to describe how she was behaving. "I… oh. Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry."

Idiot, she though. He wasn't some New Vegas playboy. Obviously Vulpes didn't expect her to fall into bed with him immediately. He was probably thinking all sorts of horrible things about her now, most of them involving the word profligate- or worse. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

Might as well move to Nipton at this point, she thought with a feeling of embarrassment.

"You should be," he said. "Walking backwards up the stairs is needlessly reckless." Turning, he continued to talk as he headed to the second floor. "It's practically asking to fall down and break something."

"Oh, right," she said, realizing he was just operating on a level of practicality she couldn't even fathom. Still, that was far better than Vulpes thinking she was some kind of tramp. Maria didn't hesitate before bounding up the stairs after him.

Once upstairs, he kicked the door open. The room was… well, spotless. Of course Vulpes would leave the space far cleaner than he had found it. He had even made the bed.

She glanced over at him. He raised his brows, as if daring her to comment.

"Very… tidy," Maria said, nodding. They were both standing, silently looking across the room. "Well," she began.

"So…" Vulpes said at the same time.

They both fell silent again.

Maria tried to think of a way past the awkwardness that wouldn't be painfully embarrassing. Failing, she decided to do something that would at least distract them both from the sudden chill in the room . Bolting across the room, she jumped onto the bed. With a laugh she hopped a couple times, tapping her fingers against the low ceiling, before dropping to a sitting position.

He stared at her in surprise. "Was that necessary?" Vulpes asked, walking over.

"Oh yes," she said, "absolutely necessary. Neatly made beds exist only to be jumped on." He was staring down at her. "Besides, now I'm over here, and you're over here, and we're not over there acting like we're suddenly terrified of each other."

"You mean again?" he said, smirking.

"Quiet, you," she said, making a face at him. "I was never afraid of you."

"Lies"

Maria climbed to her knees, eye level with Vulpes. "Calling me a liar? Again with that?"

"Maria, if you stop lying I'll gladly stop calling you a liar," he replied.

She put her arms over his shoulders, hands folded behind his neck. "I have to tell you," Maria told him, speaking low, "if this is how you charm girls… I'm not impressed."

"Now I have to try and impress you? Didn't I just save your life earlier today? That should be more than enough." Vulpes sighed dramatically before pulling her closer to him. "Sic erit," he whispered, "haeserunt tenues in corde sagittae." Tangling one hand in her hair, he spoke into her ear, breath tickling her skin. "Et possessa ferus pectora versat Amor. Cedimus, an subitum luctando accendimus ignem?" She felt her knees weaken as he kissed her. Parting, Vulpes ran a finger across her lower lip. "Cedamus… leve fit, quod bene fertur, onus."

Maria swallowed roughly. Love poetry. In Latin. That pretty much destroyed any previous flirtation that had been directed towards her. Even if she did recognize it.

Looking at her, he raised his eyebrows. "Does that meet your standards?"

"I… um… yeah," she said, grinning at him. "Will you translate for me?"

"Not a chance in Hades," he said, grinning as he pushed Maria back to the bed.

"Aw," she replied, pouting but not actually offended. "You mean I have to look it up myself?"

"How do you know I didn't write it?" he asked, words muffled by his lips brushing her throat. One hand was sliding up her leg, pushing the tunic with it. "I'm insulted."

"Two rea— reasons," she gasped. His hand had slipped between her thighs.

"Do tell," Vulpes said. He was watching her face, smiling at ever gasp and moan. When she didn't answer he sighed. "Tell me," Vulpes whispered in her ear.

"It's Ovid," she mumbled, eyes half closed. "My book. Read yesterday." The final statement was more moan than word.

He chuckled. "It is," Vulpes admitted.

He was half on top of her, their legs tangled together. Maria had his tunic bunched in her fists, eyes clenched shut. Vulpes was teasing her with his thumb, after a moment he slid two fingers inside, watching her face.

Maria had been attempting to yank his tunic off, but failed utterly. Even if it hadn't been pinned between their bodies, she had no coordination, and Vulpes was doing nothing to help her. After a moment of struggle she gave up, deciding to focus on what he was doing instead. As she gasped, he moved faster. Every muscle in her body tensed, she felt like she could snap into a thousand pieces. She was begging him not to stop, beyond caring how she might have sounded or looked.

With a final shriek Maria nearly managing to knock Vulpes from the bed before melting back into the mattress. He barely paused before rolling on top of her, knees pushing her legs apart.

"Sālve, Vulpes," she said, giggling as he landed on top of her.

"Hi, Maria," he replied.

The aging bedframe creaked loudly under them. Their eyes met briefly at the sound and Maria felt her heart pounding. For a brief moment they both froze, as if expecting the metal to finally collapse under them. It held steady, though, and they laughed nervously after a moment.

He pulled her up to a sitting position, yanking the tunic over her head. Or rather, he attempted to. "Blood of Mars," Vulpes mumbled to himself, giving up as the sleeve caught on her Pip-boy.

"Sorry," Maria said.

"Can that thing come off?" he asked. "It's not… Gods, it's not permanent, is it?" Vulpes was clearly horrified by the idea.

"It comes off," Maria confirmed. "Here, watch," she said. "Only I can take it off. But if I'm ever knocked out and you need to get it off my arm, just put my hand here," she demonstrated, thumb over the button that would release the lock. "And push down on my thumb." The latch came open, and she carefully set the old device on the floor.

Vulpes smiled, taking her hand and bringing it to his mouth. He kissed the skin of her inner wrist, normally hidden under the Pip-boy, and once again tried to pull the tunic over her head- this time successfully. Maria tensed briefly, not able to stop herself from remembering the last time a man had seen her naked. He had taken one look at the scars normally hidden under her clothing and said 'damn, baby, what the hell happened to you?'

Vulpes stared for a moment before lunging at her. Shoulders on the mattress, Maria felt her lower back arching almost involuntarily as his hands and mouth began to explore her skin. He was whispering in Latin, voice low, but she couldn't hear him well enough to understand. It sounded complimentary, at least. He could have been saying anything, though, and she wouldn't have cared.

Finally managed to yank his tunic off, Maria fell back trying not to grin like a fool. Her eyes were moving across his defined abdominal muscles, down to his toned thighs, and everywhere in between, drinking in the sight of someone who did more than sit around casinos all day. Wow… maybe there is a god. Realizing just what a lifetime of marching and swinging a machete did to a man's body, she wondered just which of Vulpes' myriad deities she should be thanking.

Skin against skin, they were pressed together on the ancient mattress. She imagined she could taste the cola he had been drinking earlier on his lips. Suddenly, Vulpes paused, pulling back slightly. His eyes met hers, as though waiting for an answer. Nodding, she reached up, pulling him closer with an arm around his neck.

The pair shared a groan as he slid into her. Maria pushed her hips up to meet his, hooking a leg around his waist. He was mumbling something she couldn't understand, gasping into her ear. One hand was on her hip, fingers digging into the flesh.

"There," Maria panted when Vulpes shifted slightly. He moved faster, spurred on by her gasps and cries. She had both legs wrapped around him, hands balled into fists behind his back. His skin was covered in sweat, movement becoming erratic. Toes curling, she felt pressure building inside her. If Vulpes was bothered by her heels digging into his back, he showed no sign of it. He grabbed her by the hair, turning Maria's face to him and kissing her roughly.

Slamming her hips up against his, she felt the tension that had been building within her break. Maria muffled her shrieks against his shoulder as he began pounding into her with a renewed enthusiasm. He was mumbling, half in English and half in Latin. Maria caught a reference to the gods before he froze above her. With a rough cry Vulpes collapsed onto her, sweaty and panting.

"Mi pulcher nūntie," he said after catching his breath, mouth close to her ear. My beautiful… something. Maria smiled. She couldn't even remember the last time someone had called her beautiful… in any language. Granted, she could barely remember the last time she spoke to someone who wasn't Vulpes or a trader, but it still felt good to hear.

"What is nūntie?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Courier."

She laughed then. "You ass."

"You must admit, it sounded very impressive."

"It did," Maria agreed. They were staring at each other, now silent. His eyes, Maria decided, were the color of ice. She had never actually seen ice, outside of the little cubes people put in drinks, but in her imagination the ice in the north was that shade of pale barely-blue, almost grey. There was ice in Denver. Had he ever seen it?

She was tempted to ask him what he was thinking, but resisted the urge. It was so painfully stereotypical, like a bad joke men told about women, but Maria really was dying to know what thoughts were running through his mind at the moment.

Of course, knowing Vulpes, it was probably plans for taking control of the Legion. Routes to cross the river. Something practical. Without giving in to the temptation, Maria settled back into the bed. Vulpes followed suit.

"What was your second reason?" he said, breaking the silence.

"Huh?"

"You said there were two reasons you knew I didn't write that poem. What was the second?"

She grinned at him. "Vulpes, you would never write poetry."

"How do you know?" he asked. "I might… if I felt particularly inspired."

"No, you would never write poetry. I'm honestly surprised you memorized a poem at all. Did you read it when you were learning Latin or something?"

He looked offended. "Well, someone isn't going to hear the poem I wrote her…"

She poked him in the shoulder. "Don't lie. I know you."

He looked at her for a moment before smiling. "You do," Vulpes admitted. "No poetry. Not even for you." He looked thoughtful. "It just seems like such a waste of time. Decadent foolishness."

"I figured that's what you would say."

"Are you disappointed?" he asked.

"Nah," she replied. "They are a bit… frivolous. Fun, but, you know… not important. I think the guys who wrote those didn't have armies trying to hunt them down like we do. Staying alive is much nicer than getting pretty words."

"True enough," he agreed. "Would it help if I offered to scorch the earth for you in lieu of poetry?" He was kidding… mostly.

"Hey, sure," she said, grinning at him. "It'll happen regardless, might as well convince myself it's some kind of gift."

"You seemed… surprised," Vulpes said. He was running a finger up and down her arm absentmindedly, enjoying touching where that pre-war gadget had been. The skin was lighter than the rest of her arm, although still considerably darker than his own flesh.

"I was!" Maria replied.

He looked over, she was serious. "I don't understand how," Vulpes said. "For months now I've spent the majority of my waking hours sneaking glances at you." He had assumed she knew, and was simply waiting for him to make the 'first move,' as the dissolute called it. It seemed so obvious to him, how could Maria not have seen it?

Of course, he had only the slightest suspicion it was mutual.

"I wondered, on occasion, but…"

"Yes?"

"I always figured if you were interested in me you wouldn't have made any secret of that. You're not exactly shy."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Maria, have you forgotten about your tendency to shoot people when they touch you? I was in fear for my life!"

"You're so full of shit."

He chuckled. "Well, perhaps I exaggerate. A little. Although really, for all your talk of equality, you certainly seemed content to wait for me."

"Funny how that works out," she said. "But who am I to argue with several thousand years of cultural standards?" Maria grinned at him. "Well, when they favor me, at least."

"Hypocrite."

"You keep saying that," she mused, dark eyes betraying how amused she was. "Didn't seem to stop you from jumping into bed with me, though."

"I didn't jump," he pointed out. "You did, though. And then you pulled me in." He had found it rather flattering, to be honest. Part of him worried she simply would have gone along with everything… just assuming he would force her regardless. He could admit that Legion had earned their reputation when it came to that sort of thing.

"I did," she admitted, rolling to her side and smiling at him. He wasn't about to complain.

Her skin that had been hidden under clothing was a patchwork of scars, far worse than he had imagined. It didn't bother him. Vulpes had more than a few scars of his own, after all. He saw the scars as physical evidence of her strength and humanity. She didn't drown herself in stim-packs the moment she received a papercut, unlike most of the dissolute. More than that, though, her scars were untold stories. He knew where his own originated, hers were old battles and past adventures, the building blocks of who she was today. "What is this?" he asked, tracing a finger between her breasts.

Maria made a face. "A bunch of mad-scientist robots kidnapped me," she said. "They cut out my heart. Other stuff, too. Put machine bits inside." Vulpes pulled his hand back, horrified. Either she was being honest, in which case she was, well, inhuman, or she was completely mad. Regardless of which it was, he suddenly felt the need to scrub himself. "I got them back," Maria assured him, as if reading his mind. "It was horrible, having to walk around knowing parts of me weren't… me. It made me feel like I wasn't really a human anymore, like I was some kind of robot or monster. Completely disgusting."

Mad, then. Better than the alternative, at least. "Where was this?" Vulpes asked.

"Big Empty," came her reply. "I guess it was some kind of research lab, back in the old days. Big Mountain. The scientists turned themselves into… well, kinda like brainbots, just before the war." She didn't sound like she was mad. "I heard this crazy radio broadcast so I went to check it out. It was broadcasting from an old outdoor… cinema? Was that the word?"

"I think so," he said.

"One of those," she said. "Where they watched vids from their cars."

"I've seen that place," he said. "The sign said drive in. I think that was the name."

"Huh," she said. "I always figured that was, like, an instruction. Drive in. Like, come in. But with a car." Maria shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. "Anyways," she finally says, "I get there and it's like… boom, something hit me and I blacked out. I don't even know how. I wake up and I'm in Big Empty."

"Mountain… MT…. Empty," he said, seeing the evolution of the name. "Interesting. Like Two Sun." He had heard the legends of Big Empty, of course, but never met anyone who claimed to have been there. He did know of people who left to seek it out, though- none ever returned.

"Exactly," she agreed. Maria rolled to her stomach, head pillowed on her folded arms. Vulpes was able to see the scar he had felt earlier, when his hands were on her back. Running the length of her spine, it was precise, even surgical, just like the one in the front. It seemed clear she had rolled over to hide the scar on her chest, either embarrassed or bothered by his reaction. Vulpes pulled his hand away quickly before she became even more uncomfortable, resisting the urge to ask about that one as well. "They did something with my spine, too," she said quietly as his fingertips withdrew from the old injury. Shifting as she turned her head to face him, he caught a glimpse of yet another scar, hidden just under her hairline at the nape of her neck.

No fight could have caused such exact injuries.

"By the gods," he whispered, realizing it was true. "What monstrosities the old world held." Reaching over, Vulpes brushed Maria's hair back from her face, letting it run through his hands. He wanted her to know she didn't repulse him. Laying back down, he pulled her over to him. Her skin was warm. "The more I learn about the years leading up to the bombs, the more I understand why Mars decided it had to be destroyed." He felt painfully confused. Why would any sane human develop such sciences? To what end? Vulpes was not a stupid man, but no matter how he tried his mind couldn't formulate a single reasonable explanation. It made no sense even as some means of punishment or torture. The more he tried to contemplate the reasoning the more he found himself filling with rage, imagination bombarding him with horrifying visions of whatever Maria must have faced.

Vulpes came to a decision. If the gods saw fit to give him victory, he would use all his power to see this Big MT destroyed. He would bring her there, so she could walk in the ashes.

"And people want to start it all over again," she said, voice full of contempt. "You know, I've got this… gun-thing, it lets me go back there if I want. It's locked up in a box at the Lucky 38."

He looked at her. "Have you been back?"

"No," she said. "I haven't been ready." She turned, looking at him and sitting up. "They kidnapped me. Experimented on me. Treated me like some kind of animal," her voice became louder, she jabbed her pointer finger into her open palm with each point rattled off. "When I do go back, it's going to be so I can watch that place burn." Her dark eyes were determined, jaw set. It was beautiful.

Vulpes smiled at her. "I have long admired that about you," he said. "You have a remarkable desire for justice. It is… a rare trait." Touching the scar once more, he could feel her heart beating below it: human and strong.

"No one else sees it as a good thing."

"Then they're fools… or cowards. If you are wronged it is only natural to seek restitution. That's one of the things that separate the weak from the strong. Cowards may call it revenge, but really, what is it if not justice?"

Maria smiled, and he knew she agreed. "What is this," she asked, fingertips brushing his bicep. A small row of tiny scars formed the shape of a mouth.

"That," he looked over at her hand. "That was a long time ago." He chuckled, remembering. "We were near the border of Colorado when a group of junkies apparently decided they could no longer bear their wretched existence."

"So they decided on suicide by Legion?" she said.

"They did. It's surprisingly popular," he confirmed. "The decanus was taken by surprise. He fell, a single bullet in the head. No one else seemed ready to step forward, so I did. We subdued the fiends, although one did manage to bite me as we crucified them. If it hadn't been my own arm I would have been rather impressed, if only by the strength of his teeth."

"What did you do?"

Vulpes shrugged. "I might have broken his jaw, but really, I was already crucifying him. What more could I do to make that any worse?" He smiled at the memory. "It was all for the best, though. When we returned to Caesar he promoted me to Decanus in charge of my contubernia for stepping forward and taking charge as I did." At times Vulpes was more proud of that moment than he was of the day Caesar elevated him to the leader of the Frumentarii. It was, in many ways, the first time he had really distinguished himself. He often wondered about what would have happened, had he stayed in the background and let one of the more seasoned men step forward when the Decanus fell. He suspected the answer was nothing. He would have remained a Legionary… and likely amounted to little else.

That was, of course, vanity. Most in the Legion considered vanity a flaw. Do what you should, follow your orders, and be satisfied with your place in the world. Striving for personal advancement was something profligates did. Men of the Legion should advance the Legion. That was what he had been taught, that was how he had been raised. Even so, it was not necessarily something Vulpes agreed with. He saw a great deal of benefit to rewarding exemplary service. Ambition pushed men to work harder, strive for more. Ambition was why he stepped in for the Decanus. Of course, ambition was also why he pushed that contubernia through the enemy line despite orders, an act that nearly caused his death.

But, he ended up rewarded for that as well. Doubly so, perhaps, since ambition then drove him to cautiously work through the upper ranks of the Frumentarii, eliminating men one by one, until he stood at the top. Now even Mars knew his name.

"How old were you?" she asked.

Smiling, Vulpes said "Sixteen? Perhaps seventeen?" For years he had invented accomplishments to impress women in New Vegas. He used the false achievements of Vince Fox, a man who never existed, to win their affection and charm away their secrets. It was nice, for once, to have a real accomplishment he could share. It was egotism, he knew that. It didn't make him want to impress her any less, though. Especially since he wasn't playing the spy with her, for once he had no ulterior motive. Well, beyond the typical reasons men bragged about their accomplishments to women. "Something close to that."

"So young," Maria said, looking sad as her fingertips brushed his cheek. "Did you have any childhood at all?"

Or he could earn her pity.

That was substantially less desirable.

"Did you?" he countered, all but spitting the words at her. Maria drew back from him, and he felt a twinge of guilt. "I apologize," Vulpes said quickly, bothered by the hurt on her face. She hadn't intended to offend him; her words were some sort of misplaced kindness. Maria only knew a world of corruption, a lazy culture where women bled, men shaved, and both still pranced about in the guise of children for years afterwards shirking any semblance of responsibility. That she had any moral fiber at all was a miracle. "That was… unnecessary of me."

"It's all right," she said, curled up next to him once more. "I know I did. Even if I don't remember much of it." He repressed his sigh, once again reminding himself she was ignorant. When she saw the Legion lands, when she saw true order and civilization, she would understand.