A/n: My xbox's dvd drive has broken. Looks like I'll be doing more writing and less Amalur while it gets repaired.
Also, this site is acting up horribly for editing this chapter. Please excuse the poor formatting.
WARNING: There is sexual content in the last section of this chapter, therefore, this chapter is NSFW
He was up much earlier than everyone else was, but Follows-Chalk supposed it was his scout sense. Joshua had been pulled into late night discussions with Arcade, and that left both waking up later than the others. The praetorians were always up last, but he supposed that they were still on their guarding schedule. They did, after all, go to sleep much later than the others. Meanwhile, the injured Vulpes and his Courier seemed to be content to open their door much later in the morning.
Canyon Runner awoke around the same time as him almost every day, and they made awkward conversation as they waited for their respective friends to wake up. While they learned about each other's worlds, they were hard pressed to find much in common, save the newness of Vegas.
The recruit legionary sat at the kitchen table, a sipping cold bottle of sunset sarsaparilla. Follows-Chalk watched how the man's fingers left marks in the sweat on the bottle. He always found this dew curious.
"The fridge is something nice, neh?" the scout chuckled.
"Yeah," Canyon Runner nodded, "we were always told that technology like that led to the bombs dropping. Now, I don't see how nice, cold water and well-kept food could do such a thing."
Follows-Chalk nodded in agreement. His tribe's taboos seemed part of the distant past, now that he saw life outside of Zion.
"Technology did cause the war," Vulpes called from the doorway. He was up much earlier, no doubt due to the fact that the Courier left him alone the night before.
"Put simply," he clarified, "the countries didn't have the resources to keep up their technology, and war broke out over those resources. The bombs were a final, desperate attempt to end the crisis."
A door opened in the hallway, and Veronica shuffled her way into the kitchen. She seemed tired every morning until she grabbed a cola, so Follows-Chalk didn't talk to her much until she was awake. The Scribe seemed to appreciate this.
Vulpes sat down at the table, and the small group that had nothing in common was silent. As Veronica sipped her drink, her eyes opened more, until she began to fidget because of the quiet.
"So, what's your favorite color?" Veronica asked, giving Vulpes a sideways glance.
Vulpes stared at her and blinked as if trying to comprehend the question.
"You know that color you see," he replied, "when you have an orgasm so good you almost black out? That one."
The Scribe coughed and shook her head.
"I thought it'd be a creative answer," she chuckled, "but that's not what I was expecting."
"Would it please you if I said something trite like 'the blood of my enemies'?" Vulpes smirked.
She shook her head in reply, stating that she liked him just fine the way he was. Follows-Chalk wasn't so sure; the Legionaries, Vulpes in particular, talked dirty very often. And as soon as one of them started, most everyone would join in. Where he was from, it wasn't polite to talk about a woman's – or man's – rear when they were in the room.
Vulpes had his hands in his hair again, playing with it as if he wasn't used to it. He turned to Canyon Runner and asked something in their Legion language. The recruit nodded, stood, and ran his hands through Vulpes' hair, attempting to get it to stick straight up. The thin, straight hair stood for a moment, then fell down in a pile, reminding Follows-Chalk of a toddler's hair. There was a quick reply where Canyon Runner shook his head, and Vulpes sighed, shrugged, and said something, making a chopping motion with his hands. Were they talking about a haircut? Follows-Chalk had a hard time believing that it could be something so mundane.
Behind them, the praetorians stepped into the room, their footsteps unnoticeable. It always struck Follows-Chalk as strange that the men could be so quiet, given their size. With his back turned, Vulpes hadn't even noticed them yet. Marcus took this opportunity to creep forward, his eyes focusing on something that Follows-Chalk couldn't decipher. In a second, the man's arm shot out to grab some of Vulpes' armpit hair, ripping it out.
For a moment, Vulpes sat, open-mouthed, slack-jawed, and gasping. The legionaries and Veronica laughed, while Follows-Chalk shook his head.
"Does he do this to you all the time?" Vulpes asked, nodding at Crassius. He rubbed the quickly reddening area in an attempt to ease the sting.
"No," Crassius replied, "there are strict consequences for such things." He stepped across the room, grabbed a cola out of the fridge, and sat down. Crassius gave Follows-Chalk a warm smile, something that always disarmed him. For such an accomplished killer, this man was as kind and gentle as an old dog.
Vulpes nodded and stared at Marcus with narrowed eyes as he plotted his revenge. As soon as the praetorian was close enough, Vulpes sprung up from his chair, grabbing the tail of the man's mohawk. They scuffled, each attempting to gain the advantage. Chairs fell over as they crashed about the room. In an instant, everyone who had been asleep was peering into the kitchen to look at what woke them up.
The struggle made Follows-Chalk think a child grabbing a brahmin tail, only to discover that the animal would not play along. Eventually, the child would be kicked.
"I'm going to hurt you if you don't let go," Marcus growled. Coming from one of Caesar's elite guards, the threat was very real, even to someone as skilled as Vulpes.
"Say you're sorry," Vulpes panted, obviously winded from his injuries.
"I'm sorry you're such a bitch," Marcus quipped, jabbing his elbow backward and narrowly missing Vulpes' side.
Six appeared in the doorway, watching the legionaries scuffle. She shook her head at them and frowned.
"Vulpes," she sighed, "you're going to reopen –"
Marcus hunched over and tugged hard, lurching Vulpes' arms forward. A loud gasp sounded and the praetorian's hair was released. Follows-Chalk winced as a small line of red bloomed on Vulpes' back, at the seam of where one of the large scabs met skin.
The Courier quickly grabbed Vulpes and sat him in a chair while Arcade left to grab a set of bandages.
"Look at what you did," Vulpes pouted, staring at Marcus. He turned to look at Six – her chest, rather – and pouted more. "He's been abusing me all morning."
Follows-Chalk knew the man's game and frowned when the Courier hugged Vulpes, her breasts squishing into the side of his head. While the doctor applied a set of what he called 'butterflies', Vulpes drew the Courier into his lap and kissed her on the cheek.
The Legionaries began to talk amongst themselves in their language, smiling and laughing. As soon as the bandaging was complete, Vulpes stood and made his way out into the hallway. The other Legion men followed, and the room was silent again. It was interesting how Caesar sought to destroy tribes, yet created his own unwittingly. Knowing others so similar had to be comforting to them as they learned about the world outside. For the first time, Follows-Chalk wished that he had something similar.
The clippers made another pass, shaving off inches of fluffy hair. Though Six adored his hair longer, Vulpes couldn't stand the soft, child-like texture on his head. It had to go away; he didn't want to look like a boy any longer.
In a moment, all that remained was the center of his hair, and Vulpes stood to look in the mirror. He turned his head in every direction, hoping that the mohawk would look good from at least one angle. Instead, he looked like a ragged teen from Westside. Despite Marcus' protests, Vulpes asked the rest to be cut as well. Canyon Runner shrugged, and the deed was done quickly.
Out in the hallway, the elevator opened, and Victor rolled into the suite. The bot poked its head into the kitchen, and told Six that there was a mob outside the Lucky 38, protesting that legionaries were being kept inside. Vulpes watched as Six followed Victor into the elevator to talk to Yes Man about fixing the situation.
Frowning, he stood from his seat and dusted the clipped hair off of his shoulders. Vulpes made his way into Six's room and rummaged through the small amount of belongings he had. He quickly shed the jeans he wore, stepped into his pturges, and fastened his boots. For a moment, he stared at the coyote mantle and shrugged, slipping it and the goggles over his head. Once dressed, he armed himself with his pistol and ripper, and made his way out to the elevator.
He promised Six the other day that he wouldn't tell her what to do, but merely suggest. His place here was to guide, to do when told to do, and to not do things for the state without her permission. But at the same time, Vulpes knew that he was the one that got Six into this situation. The people outside the Lucky 38 viewed the legionaries as war criminals, as men that should be tried and executed for being on the opposing side of the fight. But this wasn't NCR lands, and Vulpes had a strong suspicion as to the composition of the crowd. There was a very quick way he could get the people outside to move on.
Nobody saw him enter the elevator, and the ride down to the lobby was quick and silent. When the doors opened, Vulpes could hear the shouting as he stepped closer to the door to the Strip.
He put his hand on the door handle and cracked the door open. As soon as the crowd saw it open, they increased in volume. Shrugging, Vulpes opened the door all the way and stepped out onto the staircase. He was sure that he could get them to leave.
Shouts rose all around Vulpes as he searched the crowd. The faces of the mob were people he knew: Martina Groesbeck, the Gundersons, various women that he slept with, men that he chatted up while having drinks. If he didn't know their name, he at least knew their faces.
Vulpes came across the horrified face of Frumentarius Picus and smirked. The man had always been too smart, and must have gained knowledge that the Legion had been irrevocably changed. Self-preservation and intelligence won out in the face of duty, and Vulpes couldn't help but approve. Had he been in the same position, he would have never returned either.
The crowd continued to shout, telling him to remove his mask. Vulpes could certainly oblige them. He lifted his goggles and rested them against the mask's hollow eyes. The crowd went silent. Yes, he was one of them.
In the back, Victoria Gunderson went pale and collapsed into her husband in a dead faint. Vulpes would have laughed, if he didn't have a few dozen angry women screeching at him. Hadn't he treated them well? A tryst meant that neither party owed each other. But suddenly, because he was something different than he claimed to be, they felt as if they had the right to be angry over a one-night stand. It was their fault that they had poor judgment, not his. This was why Six was better than all of them; the truth hadn't changed her perception of him.
Vulpes raised his hands in an attempt to quiet them down, and it worked to a certain extent. They would be able to hear him, at least.
"If you're an NCR tourist," he started, "then leave. This doesn't concern you. This isn't your land."
His statement drew even more anger from the crowd, and he sighed. Some of the idiots still believed that this place was NCR territory. It never had been, and never would be.
Behind him, the door to the Lucky 38 burst open. Arcade darted out onto the stairs, frantically waving his arms. Vulpes must have shown his back to the crowd by accident, given their audible reaction.
"Vulpes, you idiot!" he screeched. The doctor gripped his arm by the elbow and attempted to pull him toward the casino.
"Vulpes?" a protester asked, "As in Vulpes Inculta?"
The ex-frumentarius couldn't help but sigh. Arcade truly ruined everything. He was sure he could have talked his way out of this, but now, his odds were incredibly slim. The roar of the crowd increased, and Vulpes was suddenly grabbed from the front. Arcade hauled him up over his shoulder in a surprising display of strength, grumbling about ensuring the safety of his patient.
They entered the casino, passing by Six and Yes Man. Not wanting Six to see him being carried in such a way, Vulpes struggled against the doctor's iron grip. After they entered the elevator, the doctor finally let go to administer another round of painkillers.
"You need rest," Arcade lectured, "if I have to tie you down to that bed, then I will."
"Promise?" Vulpes chuckled. The dose was much more than usual, and he couldn't help but suspect that this was done in order to control him.
There was no reply as the elevator opened. His limbs were sluggish, and Vulpes had the strong desire to go to bed. But he was directed toward the kitchen, where everyone sat, waiting for him. Marcus and Crassius gave him a disappointed glare, and Vulpes knew what was going on. They were going to sit him down and lecture him like a child.
"A man could think that you were trying to commit suicide," Boone scoffed, unknowing how close his words pierced to the heart.
Marcus shook his head and gave Vulpes a look that made him feel guilty. Thinking that only the legionaries could understand Latin, Marcus asked him if he was truly past his depression, or if they had to watch him again and take away the pistol. Though blunt, the words were full of concern, and Vulpes sighed. No, he wasn't like that anymore.
In the corner, Graham cleared his throat and looked down; he understood everything that had been said. Vulpes would have to make it a point later to let the other legionaries know. He wasn't sure how he felt about the Burned Man knowing of his personal demons. Did he see it as a weakness? Was his impression of him irrevocably tainted? Vulpes was too afraid to ask. He supposed that if it didn't ruin how he was perceived, he didn't really care.
The elevator dinged, and Six called out that they had company. She walked into the kitchen with her guests in tow, and Vulpes frowned. Benny had no reason to be there. Behind him were two ghouls; one was unmistakably familiar. Vulpes couldn't help but laugh out loud as Dean Domino looked at him in horror. After a moment, he snapped out of his stupor and became the ghoul that Vulpes remembered.
"You threatened me!" Dean shouted, pointing at him. Every eye in the room was on him, and they were no doubt wondering how the ghoul knew him.
"Shall I write you a note?" Vulpes sneered, "Should it say 'I'm sorry I threatened you', and have a sad face drawn at the bottom?"
He stood and approached the ghoul, noting how he winced and appeared ready to run at any given second. But there was nowhere for him to run, and Vulpes stopped right in front of him. He leaned in, causing the ghoul to back up.
"Toughen up," he spat.
Six rolled her eyes and offered the unwanted guests a seat. As Dean gave him a suspicious sideways glance, Vulpes figured that he made his point and made his way back to his chair. He stopped halfway to give Six a quick peck on the cheek.
Benny sat down and crossed his legs, accepting a drink from Cass. He nodded at Six and saluted her with the drink before taking a sip.
"So far, you're doing a great job," he nodded, "but, you really don't have a penal code set up for this, do ya, doll?"
Vulpes clenched his fist. Benny had better watch how he addressed Six. He wasn't sure how the fool escaped the praetorians, but he would make damn sure that his woman wouldn't be shot again.
Cass set a drink in front of the ghouls as well, chuckling as she did.
"Penal code," she drawled, "I'll just throw that out there. Penal code."
The corner of his mouth twitch and Vulpes fought the urge to crack a smile. He wasn't quite sure why he couldn't control his reactions, but then it hit him that he had been thoroughly drugged. Vulpes hoped that he had enough sense to at least control his mouth, lest it run off on him like it had in his prior recovery time.
"We're going to need to keep this meeting private," Six sighed, "So I have to ask that anyone who isn't part of the crowd's representatives or former legionaries to please leave."
Cass and Veronica shrugged, leaving the room. Just as Arcade passed Six, she grabbed his coat and told him that was a neutral party; he had to stay. The reluctant doctor sighed and sat down at the table next to Vulpes, who found himself on the receiving end of a pleading stare.
"Oh, no," Vulpes chuckled, "if I go against her, then I won't get all the good things I want in life." And it was true; if they argued again, he would most certainly spend another night alone, and that was completely unacceptable.
"Smart man," Benny nodded, "nothing's worse than an ornery dame."
Six cleared her throat and glared at both of them. Sighing, Vulpes realized that he would be hard pressed to be able to charm his way out of this mess. The Courier had toughened up considerably in their time apart.
"Here are my thoughts," Six frowned, "this isn't the NCR. To be blunt, we don't really care about Charlie or Searchlight. What we do care about, is Nipton and the plot with the Omertas, and the fact that the Legion was in direct opposition to New Vegas."
Vulpes sighed and fought the urge to roll his eyes. Nipton and the Omertas was just business; he was under orders.
"So," Benny drawled, "you did Charlie, Searchlight, Nipton, and some kind of plot here? You're quite a busy cat."
"I need you to tell us what happened to make you leave," Six sighed, giving Vulpes a pleading look. He shrugged; he wasn't going to go into detail unless it was absolutely necessary.
"The Butcher attempted to execute me," Vulpes replied, "and I was let down from the cross by Canyon Runner. He, Marcus, Crassius, and I made our escape from there. It was our hope to find safe refuge."
The other Legionaries nodded in agreement.
"And you quit the Legion?" Benny asked.
Vulpes laughed bitterly. There was no such thing as quitting the Legion, but he supposed that they had somehow done so.
"Being executed is quitting, in a way," he frowned.
"What I'm wondering," Six interjected, "is where you stand on what you've done."
Her eyes pierced into his, and Vulpes knew that his answer could separate him from her forever. But, what could he do? Should he apologize for something he felt no guilt over, or should he tell the truth? Perhaps, Six would like to make his decision for him.
"Would you like to hear the truth, or the answer?" he asked, returning her intense gaze. Vulpes watched as Six exhaled, steeling herself for her decision.
"The truth," she replied.
Vulpes nodded, expecting no less from her.
"Everything I have done," he replied, "was for Caesar. Never did I question; never did I bother with thinking through moral ramifications for what I did. I was the arm of Caesar. What I did, he did."
Her pursed lips told him that wasn't what she wanted him to say.
"But Caesar is dead," Vulpes continued, "so my contract with the Legion expired. I wish to lend my services to New Vegas instead."
It was quiet as each realized the weight of what he said.
"I will lend my skills as well," Marcus interjected. Crassius and Canyon Runner agreed as well.
Six smiled slowly, and Vulpes knew that he still had her. And surely the people would follow her desires. After all, she saved the Mojave from hostile takeover.
Benny shrugged and downed the last of his drink.
"The residents might buy that," he remarked, "but you'll have to do something to make them be more sure of you. Hiding up here won't help much, you know."
Vulpes nodded in agreement. If he had to do some menial tasks to show that he could be harmless, then so be it. He was sure that his skills could provide some help to the area.
"When Vulpes feels better," Six replied, "we will have them do something. Now we have to figure out what to say to the people outside."
"With my people," Benny offered, "I offer them one chance to screw up. If they screw up again, they're punished."
The Courier paused and stared at the table in thought. Vulpes knew what she was thinking, and though it was much more lenient than he would advise, he had to remember that whatever bit of mercy she came up with would help him in the long run.
Vulpes still loved her, and if he had to make nice with New Vegas to have her, then he would.
Six exhaled and resisted the urge to pace as the elevator brought her and her company down to the bottom of the Lucky 38. Benny told her that everything would be fine, and that he would help her out with the Legionaries. She supposed he was being a good sport, since Marcus and Crassius had been in charge of his beatings when he was captured by the Legion. However, perhaps, Yes Man was involved in some way; that was much more likely.
And why wouldn't Yes Man want the Legionaries around? After all, they were real, highly trained people that could ensure her safety. It was very beneficial to keep them, from a logical standpoint. But emotions didn't have logic, and Six hoped that Yes Man understood this and calculated it into the risk of doing something so bold.
"It's going to be okay, right?" she asked the bot, seemingly for the tenth time.
"Of course!" Yes Man chirped. It offered no further explanation, and Six was tempted to ask how it would specifically be okay. But Benny opened the door to the Strip; she was stuck going in blind.
The crowd shouted at her, demanding justice, and Six raised her hands so they would be quiet.
"We've discussed this thoroughly," she announced, "and have come to the conclusion that the Legionaries will be useful. They know tactics, and know how we can best defend the Mojave from invaders, among other skills –"
A section of the mob began to shout. They wanted Vulpes brought out to them, so they could bring him to justice.
"Can't you see he's been abused?" Six asked, "He's been punished already. He was whipped and crucified, and he's had a taste of his own medicine." Many shouted that they didn't care.
The Courier sighed and figured that she couldn't converse with them. She would have to tell them what the rules were, and leave it at that.
"We're implementing a two strike law," Six announced, "the first time a crime is committed and you are caught, and there will be punishment in the form of community service. The second offense warrants a strict punishment due to the nature of the crime."
"The Legionaries will be the first to do this," she continued, "and to be honest, I know that they want to help. I am sure that they won't cause any problems."
"That's not enough!" a man shouted, "What about Charlie? What about Searchlight?"
"That's the NCR's problem," Six replied, "and we're not them. I'm not giving a foreign invader what they want. And these Legionaries have renounced all ties, so they are not of an enemy state. They are exiles."
The rabble increased in volume, and Six began to grow angry. This was not the New Vegas she saved; the city she loved cared for everyone, and didn't judge because each had their own past. Perhaps these people were NCR; perhaps, they weren't and forgot how things used to be. It was no excuse for being this merciless.
"Does it bother you that the face of the Legion is human?" she shouted, "This is a city of hope, of promise, and of starting over. Some of you were barely getting by a few months ago. Some of you were addicted; some of you just needed a chance. This is what we are about: we are about giving people a chance at starting over."
People nodded in agreement, and Six sighed in relief. As long as she could get some to go along with her, then everything would be okay. A small section of the crowd grew louder, and Yes Man wheeled forward to address them.
"Those of you who are yelling," it chuckled, "have no say in this. I know everyone who comes and goes, and most of you are NCR citizens. If you'd like to have a say, then please renounce your NCR citizenship and provide proof of renouncement and residence in New Vegas. Now, Benny has volunteered to answer questions, as well as ask us questions that come up that he might not have an answer to. So you guys can have at him, if you want."
Benny laughed as dozens of people began to crowd him and shout questions. As the chairman directed everyone to the Tops with a smile, Six knew that they picked the right representative. Benny did love attention.
Six left him to the crowd with the confidence that he could help smooth things over. Sighing, she made her way back into the Lucky 38 with Yes Man. As they stepped into the elevator, Six crossed her arms.
"I know that I'm doing the right thing," she sighed, "and I know that they won't harm anyone. But I don't know if the people know that or will accept it, and it worries me."
What if she had to go against her own people to do the right thing? Was it still right, then?
"Stop worrying," Yes Man replied, "Everything will work out with this."
Six nodded and stepped into the suite. She trusted Yes Man, but he had been wrong about a few things before. It would be like sitting on pins and needles, waiting for everything to smooth over. In the meantime, she would focus on helping Vulpes get better. Yes Man already had a job lined up for them, and didn't tell Six what it was.
Poking her head into the kitchen, Six took a shaky breath and told everyone that they were safe. With that, she left as quickly as she arrived, and shut herself in her room. The Courier stepped forward and fell face first onto her bed. She just wanted to sleep her problems away and be by herself.
The sound of the door opening then closing made her heart sink. Couldn't she just be left alone?
"You didn't have to do that," Vulpes murmured, "not for us, and especially not for me."
She sighed and sat up to meet his gaze. From the look on his face, it was obvious to see that this troubled him. Vulpes sat down next to her on the bed, his hands folded in his lap. It was then that she noticed something was different about him.
"Your hair!" Six gasped. All of his beautiful shaggy hair had been shaved off. Yes, he looked more familiar, but she rather liked how his hair looked longer. The Courier put her hand on his head and rubbed the short, bristly strands. When it was this way, it was so fun to touch. With that in mind, she couldn't really decide which she liked better.
He leaned over to kiss the side of her neck, causing the hair on her arm to stand on end. With a shiver, Six realized that Vulpes always knew the right place to kiss. His breath danced across her jaw, stirring the fine hairs to the side of her ear.
"You know how I feel," he whispered, "let me show you."
They were back at this again, and Six found herself growing tired of the games. The Courier sat back to give him a level stare. If he wanted this, then she was not about to trick him. Vulpes sat up as well, his expression serious.
"I care about you," Six sighed, "but I don't love you."
There was a brief flash of hurt in his eyes before he gave her a small grin.
"You don't have to be in love to have sex," Vulpes shrugged.
This was true; according to rumors, he had done this hundreds of times. And before Six found out that he loved her, she planned on doing all sorts of things with him.
"How I feel hasn't changed," he added, "but I will take whatever you want to give me."
As long as he knew where they stood, she was fine with whatever he wanted to do. Shrugging, Six made her way to the door and locked it.
The cocktail lounge became their place, an oasis of green among flashing lights and desert. While some of the plants had been moved outside, the Courier couldn't part with others. Cassidy – Cass, he corrected himself – was a jewel of red in a sea of green. Canyon Runner watched as she removed her hat to slick back the small tendrils of hair that hung about her face.
"Why don't you let down your hair?" he asked.
They sat next to each other on a bench, staring out at the Mojave and watching as the sun set. Cass stretched, and for a while, he wondered if she was going to ignore his question. But she turned her eyes to him, and he was dumbfounded that she would bother with him. Perhaps, she needed a little bit of reassurance; her vanity was on the line.
"Can't be as bad as my starting bald spot," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. He had half the mind to shave his hair completely so that nobody would know. Eventually, it would just stop growing back.
Cass frowned and shook her head.
"I've got a gray patch," she mumbled, staring at the floor.
He shrugged; a gray patch wasn't anything to worry about. But then again, Cass seemed to be very dismayed at her age. Truthfully, Canyon Runner didn't understand the issue.
"Silver is a sign of one who has fought many, many battles," Canyon Runner replied, "a warrior who has silvered hair is to be feared and respected."
Cass leaned back and laughed.
"Hell," she snorted, "when you say it like that, it might not be so bad."
"So, why do you worry about your age?" he asked.
Cass snorted, giving a small shrug.
"It's not the age," she replied, "it's the damn gray. And I'd better have kids before I can't. Besides, what's with you talking about your pals all the time?"
Canyon Runner blinked. He wasn't sure what her angle was, and felt that at any second, she would outsmart him. Cautiously, he formulated a reply.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Cass rolled her eyes, a response that would have gotten her slapped back in Arizona. Instead of being annoyed, he found it curious. Usually, she had something clever in mind.
"You always talk about them," she explained, "how amazing they are, how you heard what they did and that they are perfect legionaries. Now, I know you're not queer, so do you think you're not as good as them?"
Canyon Runner stared forward and pursed his lips. He didn't do half the things that Vulpes, Marcus and Crassius did. He wasn't as strong as the praetorians, nor was he as cunning as the frumentarius. Was he to admit his weakness in front of the woman he wanted to woo as well?
"Answer me," Cass demanded, her voice sharp. There was no fight left in him.
"What do you want me to say?" he sighed, "I was a step above a slave. Those men are legends among the Legion, and I'm still getting used to the mere sight of them. I will never –"
Canyon Runner was silenced by her mouth, and his eyes widened. She was kissing him. As soon as it registered, Cass was gone, her face flushed red to match her hair. She was furious, perhaps that he didn't think as highly of himself. In her eyes, was he a match for the other legionaries?
"I understand now what Vulpes was trying to tell me," he chuckled.
"If he kissed you," Cass drawled, "then the three of us need to get to talkin'."
As Canyon Runner protested loudly, Cass silenced him by letting down her hair.
He started with her boots, then her shirt and bra. Vulpes kissed a trail down her neck, toward her breasts, and hoped that this wasn't a lucid dream induced by the med-x. But the hands in his hair felt real, as did the nipple rolling over his tongue, and the leather-clad ass under his hands. Her sighs let him know that he was doing everything right, and her increasingly rough grinding in his lap slowly drove him insane. His mouth left her nipple and drifted back up to her ear.
"You're overdressed," Vulpes whispered, causing her to giggle and squirm in his lap.
He let go of her hips, and Six stood, her breasts jiggling with the movement. Vulpes couldn't help but grunt in appreciation at the sight and reach out to quickly grope her. Sitting back, he watched as Six unbuttoned her pants. When she saw that he was watching, the Courier blushed and turned around in modesty. So, he would see her ass first, which was completely acceptable as well. With the sound of a zipper going down, the pants rolled downward with the released tension.
Six allowed the pants to continue to roll up and left them in a heap on the floor. In a quick flash of her hands, her panties were on the floor, and she turned back around to look at him, biting her lip in apprehension.
"You're beautiful," he chuckled, "come here."
The Courier smiled, approached him, and leaned over to give him a lingering kiss, her hair falling in a veil around them. She leaned back to look at him as well, her eyes trailing down his torso to the visible bulge in his pants.
"You like my big dimple butt?" Six asked, turning around. "I don't look like one of the pretty girls in the casino paintings."
There were some dimples, but not many. He didn't understand the problem, and it saddened him that even this beautiful woman was worried about her looks.
"I love your big, beautiful butt," he replied, grabbing two handfuls of her rear. Vulpes had women of all kinds, but this one was the first that he loved. Everything about her was both beautiful and captivating.
Six squeaked and jumped away from his grasp. Wheeling around, she pointed a finger at him.
"You're overdressed, mister," she accused.
Vulpes laughed, stood, and unbuckled the belt that held his jeans up. They hung off of his erection for a moment before pooling on the floor. Smirking, he patiently watched as Six looked him over with eager eyes and a prominent blush. They said nothing as they approached each other for a searing kiss.
Vulpes directed Six toward the bed and gently pushed her down until she laid on her back. Kissing his way down to her breasts again, he experimentally drew his fingers down the seam of her womanhood, pulled them back slowly, and admired the long string of fluid that his hand drew away. Vulpes couldn't resist licking his fingers, much to the Courier's enraptured delight.
"Do it now," Six pouted, wiggling her hips. Apparently, she didn't care for foreplay; they had denied themselves each other for too long.
He laughed and sat up, positioning himself at her entrance. For a moment, he teased her, causing the Courier to growl in frustration.
"Now," she demanded, giving him a glare.
Without preamble, he entered roughly. There was resistance – too much resistance – and the tightest, wettest heat he would ever felt, accompanied by a loud shriek in his ear. Vulpes stared down at the crying Courier, his mouth open in shock. Had he known that she was a virgin, he would have gone much, much slower.
Vulpes hunched over her, whispering apologies into her ear. It took a quick glance down to see her hands gripping the sheets tightly, her knuckles white.
"Relax," he told her, "stop clenching."
Six did what she was told and slowly allowed her muscles to slacken. Gently, Vulpes withdrew partially and pushed forward. Underneath him, the Courier whimpered and clamped down around his manhood like a vice.
"It's going to hurt more if you tense up," he panted, biting his lip. She was so incredibly hot, so incredibly tight, and he felt disgusting for enjoying the sensation while she was in pain.
Six relaxed again, and he moved slowly once more. This time, she remained calm. Vulpes took this as his signal to continue and thrust again. The Courier bit her lip, though whether it was in pain or the beginning of pleasure, Vulpes couldn't tell. Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss.
"Is it starting to feel good?" he asked. His arousal was burning within her, making him moan from the intensity.
Six furrowed her brow and turned her head away from him. She was obviously still in pain.
"I can stop," he sighed. Vulpes never stopped for anyone, but for her, he would.
"No," Six protested, "it's fine. Keep going."
Vulpes nodded, buried his face in her shoulder, and increased his pace slightly. While kissing her neck, he trailed his hand down her stomach to slip his fingers between her folds and rub the hidden bundle of nerves within. He caressed her, attempting to bring her to the intense pleasure that he felt.
The pace was maddeningly slow, and Vulpes waited for the signs that he could increase his speed more. Six was limp underneath him, compliant and no longer gripping the bed. Supposing this was a good sign, Vulpes began to thrust faster and groaned at the increased friction. He had never had someone so tight and hot before, and compounding all physical sensation was the fact that he loved her.
With a gasp, he erupted before he could stop. Conflicting sensations of ecstasy and shame coiled inside him as Vulpes spent himself inside her. Within seconds, it was over, and Vulpes lay above her panting. He stared at her hair and refused to look her in the eye, even when Six turned her head.
"That's not happened in over a decade," he swallowed, hoping desperately that she would forgive him.
Vulpes withdrew from her and sat up, cringing when he saw the blood. He had never seen so much before from sex. It took him a while to gather the courage to look at her, but when he did, he wished immediately that he hadn't. Six stared at him in hurt, and then rolled over to face away from him.
"It's not normally like that," Vulpes frowned, "the first few times might be uncomfortable for you."
There was a sigh and a shrug in response. Worried, Vulpes laid down behind Six and wrapped his arm around her. It couldn't end like this.
Would she even let him touch her again?
