"You're disturbed," Agnes says, watching Vulpes drag an unconscious tribal into the building.
"Idle hands," is all he says, shutting the door.
Agnes does her best to ignore the noises coming from the building. At first it was yells, cries of pain, crying, then woefully low sounds, and finally blissful, guilty silence. Agnes wonders if the man finally died, when the door opens and Vulpes beckons her inside.
"No thanks, I'm good out here," Agnes declines.
"Get in here or so help me," he growls.
With a sigh, Agnes moves to the door, the smell of blood and piss heavy in the air. Her eyes focus on his hand as Vulpes holds the door open, tiny flecks of blood cover the back of his hand, his knuckles bruised. Every fiber of her being screams how wrong this is.
A low needy moan comes from the room.
Losing her nerve, Agnes turns and runs around the side of the building, her only thought to get away. Vulpes catches up with her in seconds. They struggle before he is able to pin her up against the crumbling wall, his forearm across her throat.
"Don't you ever run away from me!," he warns, his eyes shining.
Agnes forces herself to look at him as he gazes intently at her. Apparently pleased with what he sees, Vulpes gives an odd smile before stepping back. Without warning, he knees her in the thigh, effectively charlie horsing her. Agnes groans at the sensation.
"That's for thinking you can run away," he points at her. "Now get your ass inside!"
...
Agnes walks into the uncomfortable room and finds the man bound to a chair. His face covered in blood, the man raises his head at her entrance. She could feel the heat off of Vulpes as he stands behind her, closing the door. The man gives a low moan, rocking at the sight of his attacker. Agnes hesitates at the sight before her causing Vulpes to drag her by the arm to the side of the bleeding man.
"Behold," he says with great flourish, "the base element of man. Look at this profligate, a life time of bad choices leading up to this very moment."
Vulpes pauses, giving a toothy smile.
"Fortunately for you," he addresses the man. "Your death will be a worthy cause, redemption for a life time of being a blight upon this world."
The bleeding man trembles. Agnes stands frozen, the whole event feeling like a horrible dream.
Vulpes comes from behind, drapping himself over her shoulders.
"End his suffering," he whispers in her ear, giving her a knife.
Agnes yet again hesitates. Making disgusted noise, Vulpes approaches the bound man.
"If you don't kill him, he will linger a long while. He's been gut shot," he said, poking his finger into the wound.
The man spasms as Vulpes grins viciously, watching the man's face contort in pain.
Agnes shrinks back before Vulpes seizes her upper arm in a firm grip.
"Don't," he says harshly.
She looks up at him, her eyes wide with fear. Vulpes smoothes his face, erasing the fierceness.
"Do not be afraid," he said much softer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "All men bleed, they all fear pain. What I'm going to teach you will be invaluable."
He gives her a cold smile, "Let's begin."
Vulpes shows Agnes how to use a blade.
Thin, light cuts to deep gashes. How much the face and hands bleed compared to other places on the body. The deep color of veins compared to bright red spurts of arteries. With trembling hands, she applies his teachings. The tribal, long silent from shock, thankfully dies with only a breathy rattle. With his release, Agnes drops the knife, running out the door. Vulpes lets her run.
He finds her frantically scrubbing the blood away with a canteen of water and sand, her skin pink from the effort. Taking the canteen, he rinses her trembling hands. Looking at him with sad, moist eyes, Vulpes pulls Agnes into a reluctant embrace, holding her until she pushes him away.
...
They make camp in a neighbouring building.
The fire crackles, illuminating the dark corners of the ancient building they made camp in. Though all four walls still stood, a portion of the roof had collapsed, allowing the night sky to be seen. Smaller holes pox mark the dingy walls while larger holes act as windows, allowing a light breeze into the structure.
"Go ahead," Vulpes says. "Ask me."
"What? "
"The question that on the tip of your tongue," he replies smoothly.
"Why did you kill that man? He was no danger to us."
"No, he wasn't a danger to us but one cannot be too careful."
"He had a gimp arm, Vulpes. The man was practically defenseless!" Agnes argues.
Vulpes smiles like a small child caught telling a story.
"You got me, let's just say this is was a training exercise, one in which you did very well."
Agnes shakes her head at his words.
"You've killed before," Vulpes states.
"Yes," she says looking absently into the fire.
"How many people?"
"Fifteen in self defense," she says. "Probably more, it's hard to remember to count when your fighting."
"Such a low number," Vulpes remarks causally.
"How many have you killed o powerful Inculta?"
"Do you really want to know?," he purrs.
"No, I don't care to know but I'm sure its quite impressive," she says blandly.
Vulpes chuckles. "Yes, it is."
The fact that Vulpes appears to be in a good mood surprises her. Up until now, he had been a moody little thing. She could do nothing right in his eyes, earning harsh words and mean looks from her Mentor since they left the Fort a month ago.
"So," Vulpes begins. "How does one turn their back on their country and serve the enemy? "
"Really?," she responds. "This again?"
"I just find it perplexing is all," he responds. "Did they actually pay you or did you just take NCR dick in trade?"
"Oh," Agnes scoffs. "That's original, never heard that one before."
Vulpes grins.
Turns out that the NCR and House have a lot of the same interests, two birds one stone as the saying goes. The plan was to use the NCR to push the Legion out of the Mojave. Once the Legion was dealt with, it would be time to deal with the NCR, ultimately leaving House as the last man standing and New Vegas a sovereign nation. But that was before Benny revealed the ace up his sleeve, that crafty bastard. This new revelation made room for a fourth party in the conflict.
"I told you before, it was just caps," she insists. "I don't belong to a faction, so all expenses were my own, plus I was in need of funds to send back."
"I don't believe you," he says.
Agnes shrugs, "That's your problem."
"I'm going to find out what your hiding," he laughs.
No you wont, she thinks, returning his smile.
"How old are you?," Vulpes asks.
She smirks, "I'm sure your report told you my age."
"It does but I'm asking you."
"I'm twenty five. How old are you?"
"Thirty one," he replies. "Shouldn't you be at home with your husband and children?"
Agnes once again scoffs, "I do not wish to be married, in my eyes it's another type of slavery."
Vulpes chuckles, "You speak like a true profligate, only caring about yourself and not for the greater good."
"The greater good?," Agnes snorts. "I've heard about you Mr. Fox, you and your hedonist adventures on the Strip. I'm sure all those parties were necessary to forward the Legion agenda, right? Bedding all those women also for the greater good, pumping them for information?"
"You doubt my conviction?," he says lightly.
Agnes meets his gaze. "You doubt me yet hold yourself as the measuring stick. Let me take three men to bed and see how you judge me in the morning."
Vulpes huffs at her statement.
"Tell me Courier," Vulpes says smoothly. "Did you ever suspect that Picus was one of us?"
Agnes huffs this time as she thinks of the best way to phrase her opinion of the double agent.
"I would have never guessed in a million years," she settles on.
"Even after he took you to dinner?"
Agnes stills at the mention of her private affairs. Vulpes quietly awaits her response, the firelight dancing in his eyes.
"Still had no idea," she mutters, looking into the fire.
Vulpes smirks, "Years of planning. Besides, you were House's emissary. It was an easy move, one Picus was more than pleased to enact."
Agnes pauses to reflect, that two faced rat bastard.
"Well, yes, I suppose I was House's emissary," she responds lightly before giving a slight frown. "Is that really why? And here I thought it was because...well, never mind, I suppose it don't matter anymore."
"Because of what?," Vulpes asks, a smirk growing across his face, intrigued by Agnes's response. "Did you think it was because he liked you?"
Agnes glares daggers at him.
"No," she says sharply as Vulpes laughs at her. "Like I said it doesn't matter anyways. Not like I'll be seeing much of Ronald anyway."
Vulpes gives a toothy grin.
"What?," Agnes asks.
"You," he grins. "Mooning over Picus."
"I am not," she says fiercely.
Vulpes smirks, "Whatever you say."
...
A loud scream wakes Agnes from her fitful slumber. Sleeping outside always made her nervous, especially in the Wastes.
"God Almighty," she says, bolting upright. "What the fuck was that?"
She looks around in the dying firelight and notices Vulpes missing.
"Motherfucker," she mutters, wiping sleep out of her eyes.
Fear creeps into her heart as she hears muffled sobs. Looking around the crumbling building, there didn't appear to be any place worth hiding should anyone come looking. Outside, the Mojave is bathed in bright moonlight, making any chance to escape more of a liability. Agnes pulls her pistol, the weight of it giving her some reassurance.
Where the fuck was Vulpes? Despite being an asshole, his presence would alleviate some of her fear.
"Unless?," a small voice whispers in her mind. "Unless he is the one..."
"Stop it, " Agnes mutters to herself.
That kind of thinking would do her no good. Instead, Agnes prays. She prays for deliverance from the wickedness that prowls the Mojave, or at the very least, to be brave when the time came. She had already been buried once and swore she wouldn't lay down so easily until it was truly her time to rest.
An odd sound brings Agnes out of her dark thoughts. She holds her breath, listening intently. A shadow appears under the door. Cocking her pistol, she takes aim at the center of the door.
"I'm armed," Agnes warns.
"Is that so?," a familiar voice calls out.
"Vulpes?"
"The only," he responds before slowly opening the door, standing off to the side.
"What's going on out there? I heard noises," Agnes says.
"I heard them too but didn't see anything," he replies. "Can I come in now?"
"I'm sorry, I was nervous," she explains, putting away her pistol. "I never sleep well outside anyways and all that noise just put me on edge."
Vulpes walks inside the dim building, sitting close to her. Agnes can see him blankly staring at her before realizing that he is waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
"What did you hear?," he asks.
"Crying? I don't know if it was a woman or a coyote, I've heard that they can sound like a crying baby. I don't know, I just know it was really close by. It didn't sound good at all. It woke me up and you weren't here, and..."
Vulpes breaks into a unsettling, bright smile, "Were you scared little lamb?"
"Well, I was concerned," she corrects.
"So you pulled your pistol and threatened to shoot me because you were concerned?"
"There was a lady crying outside, at night, in the desert! That is never a good sign. I don't wanna know why or who is making her cry like that."
Vulpes' smile sizzles down into a smirk.
"Is it so hard for you to admit that you were scared?"
"Why does it matter so much to you?," Agnes asks.
Vulpes gives a toothy grin.
"Everybody gets concerned," he replies smoothy. "In fact, I was concerned about this little expedition before we let the Fort. "
"Yeah? How so?"
"I was "concerned" that eventually I would lose my patience and wring your fool neck, leaving me to suffer Caesar's wrath about losing yet another recruit and our advantage over the NCR. "
"Fantastic," Agnes deadpans.
Vulpes grins, "Lucky for you, I enjoy a challenge."
He studies Agnes in the dim light, the dying embers reflecting in his pale eyes.
"You should sleep, we gotta long way to go tomorrow."
"I don't know if I can," she replies. "I'm still kinda on edge."
Agnes looks to Vulpes, evaluating him. Could she trust him? Should she?
"You're right," she says, licking her lips. "I was concerned when I heard those noises but I wasn't scared. When it got quiet, I got very concerned"
Agnes looks into the cooling embers of the fire.
"I didn't want what was happening to her to happen to me," she says softy. "That was my fear."
Vulpes nods his head at her admission.
"Feel better?," he asks.
"No," Agnes grumbles. "I feel foolish and weak."
She watches as a ghost of a smile crosses his face.
"Embrace your fear, my little lamb. It will keep you alive."
Agnes chuffs softly at his words, shaking her head.
"Come here," Vulpes says, patting the spot next to him.
Agnes eyes him uncertainly.
"No funny business, I swear," he adds, flashing a charming smile.
Feeling like she has no other choice, Agnes moves over to him.
"Atta girl," he says, drawing her close.
Vulpes wraps his arm around her shoulders, guiding her head to his chest as he reclines back.
"Make yourself comfortable," he instructs.
Grains of sand fall from his shirt as she tucks herself against him, her arms kept folded between them, limiting the amount of contact she had to him.
"I'll keep watch while you sleep," he says, his voice rumbling under her ear.
"What about you?," she asks.
"Oh, I'm not tired," Vulpes replies casually.
He looks down at her. "You comfortable like that?"
Despite Agnes nodding her head in affirmation, Vulpes takes her arm and pulls it across his torso, adjusting til she is flush against him.
"There," he says. "Much better."
Such an unusual position to be in, she thinks, listening to the steady beating of his heart. Snuggled up to monster. A man with such a reputation that her name would be tarnished by simple association. Vulpes was an odd man, quick to anger but also willing to comfort and reassure. Confusing is the word she would use to describe their relationship, she concludes, feeling the soft fingers of sleep caress her mind.
On the edge of consciousness, Agnes hears Vulpes softly speak.
"Do not worry little lamb, nothing out there can hurt you."
"No," her final thoughts are, "it's in here with me."