Courier Six pulled the brim of her hat further down against the unrelenting Mojave sun. She was checking out a lead on a shortcut that didn't involve going down through Primm- or worse, Nipton- or trying to fight or sneak past the aptly named Deathclaws north on I-15.

She stood at the edge of what Foreman Lewis had called Scorpion Gulch, with a name like that she questioned the sanity of coming here . Six unslung her hunting shotgun to make sure that it was loaded and had a shell chambered, then returned the 12 gauge to her back. She drew her .357 revolver, cocked it, and reholstered the sidearm before descending into the gulch.

At least my boots and leather duster should keep the bastards from being able to sting me.

Six made her way through, taking extra care where she stepped. The bark scorpions scurried around to stay on the far side of the gulch from her, posturing and snapping their claws, but so far were content to keep their distance. And Six had no complaints over not having to spend any of her limited ammo on the over-sized arachnids.

A handful of rocks clattered down the side of the gulch, and before she'd even realized she'd done it she'd ducked and her hand had snapped to her revolver, eyes scanning for the source of the sound. Nothing visible, but then again you don't always see what's trying to kill you out here. She thought to herself. With slow, deliberate movements Six drew the cocked revolver and scanned for the cause of the mini-landslide. She didn't have to search long, as she heard someone groaning in pain in the direction of the fallen stones.

With her revolver held out before her, Six moved in on the noise, her sidearm held in the low ready position, Six approached on the noise emanating from behind a patch of scrub brush. Moving the plants aside, she found a crevasse and the source of the noise, a wounded super mutant.

Six drew a bead on the mutant, her finger already drawing against the trigger, she knew with only a slight increase of pressure the revolver would fire. The mutant opened his eyes and saw the Courier aiming at him. "Go ahead humie. I know you want to." he says weakly.

Six continued to hold her aim, easing off the trigger. "How long have you been here?"

The mutant narrowed his eyes at the Courier, "Day and a half. Maybe two. Passing out too much to say for sure. If you're planning on shooting me, get on with it. I don't want to die from the sun."

Six lowered the revolver just enough to stop aiming at the wounded mutant and asked, "What happened?"

"Stepped in a nest of scorpions. Stung many times. Crawled here."

The revolver wavered for a second before Six lowered it to her side, sliding it back into its holster. She approached the mutant and pulled out a bottle of water, lifting the mutant's head, Six helped him to drink a few mouthfuls. Leaving the bottle with the mutant Six took a look at his legs. A half-dozen puckered and inflamed punctures were readily visible on the calves and ankles and the odd green-gray skin was mottled with purple splotches. Six dug into her satchel to pull out a pair of rounded bottles with long thin necks.

"What's that humie?"

"Antivenom and antiseptic. Brace yourself, this won't feel good."

The mutant nodded and braced, even so as Six poured the antiseptic the mutant tensed and shuddered along his entire body for several long seconds. Once the spasms subsided, the Courier held the second bottle towards the mutant's head. "Drink up. It'll taste mighty nasty. But you need something to help neutralize the venom in your system."

The mutant took the medicine and drained the bottle, washing down the dregs with the water he'd already been given. He regarded Six as she pulled out a second bottle of water and began to clean the scorpion stings. After a few minutes, he asked, "Humie, why are you doing this?"

Six stopped rooting through the pockets of her leather duster. "Huh?"

"Why are you helping me? I have nothing to give you. Why help?"

Six pulled out a roll of bandages from her pocket and began to wrap the now clean wounds, saying, "Because, it seems the right thing to do."

"And if I decide to kill you after you help me?"

"Then I reckon I'll die a well meaning fool. But leaving a man to die of exposure doesn't sit well with me."

Silence fell on the two as Six continued to dress the mutants wounds. Finally, the mutant broke the silence. "Not man anymore. Master's treatment turned me from humie to mutant long ago."

Six looked over her handiwork, thinking to herself. Not the best, but it'll do. Before looking at the mutant. "You have a name?"

The mutant cocked his head to the side. "I… do not remember. Been alone for a long time."

"No name? Hrm, guess I'll call you Lion."

"Lion?"

"Yeah, I mean I just found you lying around. "

If the mutant understood the play on words, he didn't show it. "Lion. OK. What about you humie? What's your name?"

Six dropped her gaze, "You know. I'm not sure myself." she said, lifting up her hat to show off the still bright pink scar on her forehead. "Some dirtbags ambushed me, shot me in the head and left me for dead. Got rescued by some good folk, but don't remember anything other than I was 'Courier Six'. So you can call me that, or just Six."

Lion nodded, saying, "Thank you. I wish I could pay you back."

Six shook her head. "Don't worry about it. A good deed is reward enough. Just pay it forward where you can."

"Pay it forward?"

"Look for opportunities to help others simply to help them. Them good folks at Goodsprings helped me out without needing to be repaid. So, only feels right that I do the same."

"I… do not understand. But will try."

Six nodded and pulled out several more bottles of water and a stimpak. "Not sure what you're planning on doing, but this should tide you over to get … somewhere. You should feel able to move in a few hours. I wish I could hang around here. But I got a lot of distance I need to put down myself. Good luck Lion."

Lion nodded. "Thank you Six. Safe travels."

Six slid into cover behind a bolder, the Legion hunting parties had tracked her down after blowing away Vulpes Incluta on the strip. She'd had no desire to work with the Ceaser or his legion after seeing what Vulpes had done to Nipton, and having the chance to make him pay for what he did to that town was satisfying. Even if now the Legion was sending assassins after her.

She felt her combat armor and was glad to find that the plates didn't have any holes in them. Six cursed herself for not getting the helmet as well.

'No I won't need that, it weighs too much. Where am I gonna keep it?' I'm such a dumbass.

Six unslung her trusty hunting shotgun and pulled hard on the fore end. Try as she might though, the jammed shell would not budge, and a bullet ricocheting off the boulder to her back told her that she wouldn't have time to fix the problem properly. Setting the shotgun to the side, Six pulled out her newer hunting revolver and swung the cylinder open to staring at the last two rounds of .45-70 that she had glint in the setting desert sun. Fishing a stimpak out of her kit, Six jammed it in above where a slug had sliced through her thigh, and she knew that running from this fight wasn't going to be an option.

"Oh well, I can take two of these bastards down with me." She said to no one in particular. She took a deep breath and waited for the legionaries to close in. Six was able to track their progress by the crunching of gravel under the boots of her attackers. When they were scarcely 10 yards away, she stood and turned. Taking aim and squeezing the trigger she fired once, twice, and spun back behind the boulder as a pair of the assassins crumple to the desert floor.

Once she was safely behind the boulder, Six dropped the hunting revolver and drew her knife, and started to rise again to charge. The distinct tell-tale whine of a minigun motor cut through the air, drowning out the butchered Latin the legionaries were barking at one another. Above the din a voice with that distinctly super mutant gruff tone called out, "Get down!"

Six flattened herself against the ground, tucking in tight to the rocks as a hail of bullets filled the air. The legionaries' screams were brief and hard to hear over the minigun's fusillade. Once the sound and smoke cleared, Six poked her head up to look over the scene. The scent of gunsmoke mingled with that of blood and viscera, and the squad of 8 legionaries who were running her down just a few moments ago, laid on the rocky soil, torn to shreds.

A crunch on the soil behind her sent Six spinning around, her small knife held out at the ready. As she found herself facing off against a towering mutant lugging around a minigun, smoke still wafting from its barrels. "Hello Six."

Six looked from the mutant, to his weapon, to her knife. Lowering her own weapon she said, "Uh, hi. You know me?"

"Yes, you tended to my wounds a few weeks back. Gave me my name."

"Lion! Oh, repaying me for helping you?"

Lion smiled as he lowered his minigun to his side. "No. Someone once told me 'a good deed is reward enough.' Let me get you to Novac, your leg is still bleeding."

Ending Note: Written for the August 2020 Propmt challenge on /r/fanfiction

Random Trope: "Androcles' Lion"

Definition:

* Low ready position (pistol): a position where you are holding the firearm with both hands, extended from your body, but lowered from having a sight picture (aiming down the sights) so that the muzzle is pointed at the ground, not at what is in front of you.

Thanks to Macross84 and Quinn Intuit for their input and suggestions!