It's easy to make promises
While you're dumb in love
Watch them all evaporate
Because she's had enough

Chapter Six: "She Don't Care"

Two weeks prior
Zion Canyon

Avery sat against the trunk of a Douglas fir, its elongated branches stretching outward towards the canyon, providing ample shade from the Utah sun. Beads of sweat formed at her temples and slid down her cheeks, leaving small trails of moisture as they went. She hastily wiped away at the sweat with the back of her hand, reaching for her water canteen at her hip. The mouth of the bottle reached her lips and the cold, fresh liquid slid down her throat and into her stomach. She relished the taste of the clean Spring Waters in Zion. They were free of radiation and the taste was far different than any water she had ever experienced before.

Not to mention, it was rare to drink ample amounts of water and not get sick. At least, that's how it was in the Mojave. Clean water was a scarcity where she was from, so she often resorted to drinking water with high radiation levels. And even on extremely hot days, when her thirst was incredibly high, she found no respite from her murky bottled water. More often than not, she'd get increasingly nauseous the more water she ingested, sometimes even vomiting afterward. That was counter intuitive and exacerbated her dehydration. But not the water here.

She wiped her palms against the leather of her trousers, willing away the sweat. Upon her lap sat a unique instrument, one that the Dead Horses had introduced her to a month or so back. It was considered a fiddle, but bore no resemblance to any modern Western fiddle she had encountered.

It was constructed from a hallowed vegetal stalk. This one in particular was agave, she noted. The vegetal stalk, after being hallowed, was carved into three articulated sections. It had only one string and was held together with sinew wrappings and metal spikes, notable things that had been scavenged from abandoned pre-war buildings. Rhomboid sound holes and green pigmented bands adorned the surface, the bands serving as grooves for the sinew wrappings. Follows Chalk had called it tsii'' edo'a'tl, or "wood singing." Instead of plucking the string with a pick, it was played with a small bow-like structure, much akin to a violin.

Although it only had one string, she was able to find that it had a beautiful range. She had always been a bit of a virtuoso when it came to stringed instruments and found a harmony with the instrument not long after it was handed to her. Since then, she and the fiddle had been inseparable.

She brought the bow up to the strings and drew a long note, her fingers skillfully working to find the right note. After a few more tries she hit the note she had been hoping for and let out a soft hum of satisfaction. Since only the shaman of the Dead Horses knew any songs, and he was unable to find time to teacher any, she was left to her own devices. It was easy for her to pick up songs by ear and she had been fruitlessly trying to recreate the ceremony song the shaman had played upon her arrival to Zion.

"That tune sounds quite familiar."

Avery halted her playing and looked up to see the figure of Daniel. He had a bag lazily hung over his shoulder, the brim of his rattan cowboy hat pulled down low to shade his face from the sun.

"Do you know this song?"

"Of course," a small smile played on his lips as he watched her intently. "That's Om Numah Shivaya, an old Apache folk song."

She felt a small amount of fulfillment at the revelation. Finally there was a name to put to the tune that had been stuck in her head for days.

"I've been trying to figure out the entire song," she said easily as she lowered the bow, letting it fall against her crossed legs. "I have the beginning down, but then I hit a wall and can't quite remember where to go from there."

"You should ask Hawk Singing to teach you the rest. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to finally have someone interested in learning the songs of his ancestors."

"I've tried," she let her head fall against the trunk of the tree. She stared up at the branches of the fir as she spoke, "He's always too busy."

"Nonsense," Daniel laughed lightly as he moved over to where she sat, standing only a few feet away. "Aside from making poultices and blessing scouts before they travel into the canyon, all he does is sleep. Surely, he has time to teach you one song."

"Oh trust me, I've tried. That old man is just far too…" she trailed off for a moment, trying to find the right word. "Slothful."

"Well, there is one other person who can teach you."

Avery looked up expectantly, quirking a blonde brow as she waited.

"Graham plays a mean Apache fiddle. I'm sure if you asked him-"

"We aren't, uh, speaking at the moment," she interjected, cutting Daniel off.

"Oh?" Daniel took a seat next to her, crossing his legs and tossing his bag near the roots of the fir. "And why is that?"

She threw a pensive glance at her Mormon friend, "Like he didn't tell you already."

Daniel cleared his throat. "Graham and I don't exactly… talk, like you think we do."

"But you're friends."

"Yes, but even then, Graham is an intensely private person. Any qualms or troubles that he might possess take days of prodding and annoying him before he speaks a word of it."

Avery ran a hand over her face with a groan. "Then I guess it would be inappropriate to talk to you about it now, knowing the Joshua wouldn't want me to open up about it until he was comfortable."

"I suppose not," Daniel replied easily, clasping his hands across his lap. "But you know… this does explain why he was brooding before I left."

"He was brooding, huh?" She couldn't help the smirk that pulled at her lips. It was a nice feeling to know that he was genuinely upset after their squabble, even if it was a bit childish of her to admit it.

"Terribly so," Daniel pulled his hat from his head and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "I haven't seen him pout like that in a long time. Not since he and I originally disagreed with how to approach the White Legs situation."

Her smile spread, swallowing up her features, as she pictured Joshua childishly moping in the corner of Angel Cave. Somehow, that image eased a fraction of her frustration with that stubborn ex-Legionary.

"Why are you smiling?"

She snickered ruefully. "I'm picturing Joshua sulking in a dark cave and it's actually pretty funny."

Daniel watched her curiously as she broke into a small fit of giggles. She raked a finger through her damp, unkempt golden tresses and exhaled after she calmed down bit. Once her amusement faded, the reality of her situation crashed down around once more. Joshua was mad. Specifically, Joshua was mad at her. What could she do? There was nothing to ease the situation, at least nothing plausible. Her only choice was to…

"Daniel… Avery."

They both looked up as someone called to them from the distance. At once, Avery's limbs went cold and she swallowed, annoyed at the lump that began to form in her throat. It was Joshua.

"Hoi, Graham. What brings you here?"

Avery watched as Joshua crossed his arms over his chest, his stance rigid and tense as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He refused to look at her, choosing to stare directly at Daniel, his eyes narrowed and squinting as he did so.

"I could ask the same."

"I was out gathering provisions," Daniel pointed to the bag against the trunk of the fir. "The fish are biting like crazy today and I was able to catch quite a few."

"If I may have a few moments with the courier," Joshua's said suddenly, his voice even but there was an edge to his words, "please."

Wordlessly, Daniel collected his things and stood. He went to put his hat upon his head and paused, giving Avery a slight, apologetic smile. She knew he was being empathetic towards the troubling situation she was about to find herself in and she nodded, appreciative. Daniel muttered a quick goodbye to Joshua as he disappeared over the edge of the canyon, sliding along one of the many trails that lead to the tribal camps. She watched the top of his cowboy hat vanish with growing anxiety.

Joshua remained planted to the earth, like a totem, radiating waves of distress. He was fuming. It was unpleasant and she repositioned herself against the trunk of the fir, letting her head fall against the bark once more. Her eyes slid closed and she inhaled deeply, trying to control the racing of her heart. He was silent, dreadfully so. All she could hear was the distant thrum of the river beneath the canyon's edge and, more irritatingly, Joshua's breathing. Although he said nothing, she could tell he was just as fretful as she was. It was odd how she could have this kind of effect on a notoriously blood-thirsty ex-Legionary- a man who used to execute hundreds without batting an eye.

"Avery…"

She clenched her eyes, refusing them to open.

"Avery, please," he said slowly, taking a step forward.

At this she opened her eyes, tremulously dragging her gaze from the branches of the fir and down to brooding man before her. He was still tense, his shoulders stiff and his arms remaining wrapped in front of him. He was guarded and closed off.

"What?"

"We need to talk."

She scoffed, her tone heavy with derision. "We've already talked, Joshua."

"We need to talk again."

Avery couldn't stop the groan that escaped her and she pulled the fiddle from her lap, propping it up against the tree. "What could possibly change from this talk that did not change from the one prior?"

At this he seemed to pause, a contemplative silence surrounding them both.

"I want you to stay."

She froze. "What?"

"I want you to stay… here, in Zion," he stopped for a moment only to add, "with me."

"Joshua…" her voice died in her throat, words failing her.

Her jaw hung loosely as she gaped at him, completely at a loss. He was asking her to leave behind everything, to abandon any and all prior obligations and to… what? Live out the remainder of her days amongst the tribal colonies? Her mouth went dry as she stared. She'd be lying if she said that the idea of doing so wasn't enticing.

Joshua took another step forward, his arms falling to his sides limply. "You could have a permanent residence here. You could… leave behind all that troubles you in the Mojave and live here, in peace."

"Joshua…" she repeated, but he continued despite her interjection.

"Think of the life you could have here," his raspy voice lulled her anger and put it to rest, but her anger was quickly replaced with immense sorrow and regret. "Imagine the life we could have."

She breathed in his words and they settled somewhere between her ribs. She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach and her intestines squirmed, her breath escaping her in subtle wheeze. Avery's head dropped, her chin nearly touching her chest, and she bowed beneath the weight of her grief. She couldn't bear to look at him. She couldn't stand to look at a man she had only known for three months, a man that she managed to foolishly, immaturely fall head over heels for.

Joshua was convincing. Manipulative. Her first time meeting him was like stepping into church, and each word that left his mouth was skillfully crafted, his sentences sewn together eloquently like poetry. The timbre of his voice was low and so enthralling, that she found herself easily enraptured when he spoke. It was no wonder that this man was able to command armies. He was passionate and serious, with a sort of animalistic blood thirst that had her writhing in fright and, as much to her vexation, admiration as well. All she needed to align her support with Joshua during the White Legs calamity was to listen, only for a moment, to his diatribe- the way he spoke madly, his voice dripping thickly with vitriol. It was enough for her, and she was on board without hesitation.

He had used that same unruly, unbidden passion to pry her open, to peer through her cracks and force his way in. Every alcove of her soul was tarnished and singed by his touch. She had let him in at her weakest moments and it ruined her but, by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. Avery was about to dislocate herself from him, like a joint would a socket, and hang limply at his side… useless, painful. A reminder of something that once used to work but no longer could, unless agonizing measures were taken.

But she wouldn't relent… she couldn't. She needed to hold firm in her promises to the people of New Vegas. They'd sworn fealty to her cause. They believed that she could actually gain New Vegas its freedom. The believed in her.

Yet, here she was, so easily swayed by one man. Her resolve was fracturing beneath the weight of it all and she worried that it would shatter at any moment. That she would burst into a thousand tiny pieces and disappear into the Utah soil.

Then she felt it; the heat of his touch as he snaked his hand beneath her chin, tilting her face upward to meet his. His eyes, like two shards of broken glass, cut into her and she trembled. Although his face was hidden beneath bandages, she could see the sadness in his cerulean orbs and the way his eyes seemed to crinkle at the edges. His face needn't be bare for her to understand him. And she gave in to him all over again, her body aching for him like nourishment.

"Why are you doing this to me?" She struggled to get the words out, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to reign in her emotions.

The pad of his bandaged thumb grazed along her bottom lip, as if that alone was enough to stop her trembling. "I do not understand."

"You know I can't stay," her voice came out shrill, cracking as she struggled for control. "From the beginning you knew that my stay was temporary, that I had a life prior to this," she was steadily gaining volume. "You are asking me to stay and you know I can't… why? Why do you have to do this?"

At one time, Joshua would refuse to discuss anything beyond the parameters of her missions. Sure, he'd quote the bible here and there, being oddly enigmatic and simultaneously prophetic, but never did their conversations dwell beyond anything impersonal. Of course, all of this was in between his phases of vengeance, where his inner zealot would emerge and she'd be drawn in, like a comet too close to orbit.

But things had changed.

It was a slow progression but she had started noticing small things here and there. He'd started to open up to her, telling her seemingly small, insignificant stories from his life. One had been a short tale about his father, where Joshua mentioned something about the bible he carried around with him. She had learned that the bible had been gifted to him on his sixteenth birthday, and it had been an heirloom passed down through his family for generations.

There was a sort of ambiguous, supernatural charm about Joshua and she flocked to it, like a Cazador to a flame. It didn't take long for them to fall together and it didn't help that she imprudently encouraged whatever relationship they possessed. It started with small touches here and there; a hand on the hip or a lingering graze when they handed something to one another. Before she realized what was happening, their interactions evolved into a flurry of roaming hands and a horrible, unquenchable need. No matter how much she had of him, she would never get her fill. It was enamoring and beguiling and if she were away from his longer than a day her body would go into withdrawal.

And no matter how hard she tried to circumvent… she continually crashed back into him, time and time again.

"Avery, you can stay. There is a place here for you amongst the Dead Horses. We have ample resources readily available and plenty of room for-"

Joshua's voice dragged her from her daze and she shook her head.

"Stop," she cried, trying to pull away from him. "Just… stop."

Tears welled at the brim of her eyes and she blinked, hoping to will them away. It was hopeless. A tear slipped free and rolled down her cheekbone, cutting a path through the dust and grime that coated her skin. He brought his free hand up to her face and cupped her cheek, gently wiping away at the descending moisture. Despite herself, she leaned in to his palm.

"I hate this," she said simply, staring up at him through her blurred vision. "I hate you."

"Do you, now?" He asked, seemingly bemused.

"Yes," she replied firmly. She wanted to get as far away from him as possible, but his touch was intoxicating and she couldn't move. "I wish I'd never met you, Joshua."

Joshua just looked at her, an indistinguishable emotion flickering across his eyes. They narrowed an imperceptible amount as he broke their gaze, his attention drifting from her eyes and down to her lips. She knew that look. She inhaled a trembling breath, bracing herself for what was going to happen next.

Softly, his bandaged lips pressed against hers, so chaste and innocent that she wasn't sure if it was really happening. He pulled back a moment, judging her reaction, before kissing her more fully on the mouth. She melted into him, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of his neck, the other gently grasping onto his bulletproof vest. God, she wanted to pull away, to bring her hand back and slap him hard across the face. The nerve of him, thinking he could kiss her into remission. And yet… here she was, giving in to him like she always did. Her stomach dropped out beneath her as her heart fluttered behind her ribs, an inebriating warmth spreading through each limb and alighting her nerves.

After a few moments they pulled away from one another, breathless.

She licked her lips and exhaled a shaky breath. "I really can't stay, Joshua. My loyalty lies with New Vegas and its people. They need me."

There was a heavy pause between them before he spoke, his voice so hushed and discreet that she could barely hear him over her rapid breathing. "And… what if I…"

His words died in his throat and she watched as he closed his eyes tightly, letting out a slow, rumbling breath. Joshua was never good with words but that's why they seemed to work. Avery always did enough talking for the both of them.

"… need me?" She hesitantly completed his sentence.

All Joshua could manage was a slight nod and his eyes slid open slowly. The muscles around his eyes seemed tight as he focused at a spot on her neck, his brows furrowing.

"Yes," he ground out, almost inaudible.

She let herself fall limply against his hold, her hand sliding from the back of his neck only to fall listlessly into her lap. There was a sort of break in her, a snap in her brain that caused her to shut down. This man just openly admitted that he needed her- here, with him. Joshua Graham was a fiercely independent, sometimes misanthropic, person. He didn't need her, he wanted her and those were two very different emotions.

"I…" she started, raspy and wavering. She felt her words evaporate, her mouth opening and closing over and over again like a fish on dry land. Then she deflated, "What we want, what I want is irrelevant."

The distress was apparent in the exposed part of Joshua's face and he visibly recoiled, although his hands remained transfixed upon her face. He tilted his head slightly before rasping out: "Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy as unyielding as the grave. It burns like a blazing fire, like a—"

"Mighty flame," she finished his sentence once more. Joshua turned to scripture when he was at a loss, and she was often left trying to decode his message, hidden deep within the passage. This one was a verse he said to her often, but never had it been more relevant.

Avery was not spiritual nor was she religious. She could never bring it upon herself to believe in such things, but she admired Joshua's faith. She adored when he would quote bible verses from the top of his head and speak it to her, as if it were a ballad. It was his way of connecting and she learned quickly how to speak in his vernacular.

His grip on her face seemed to tighten as his gaze bore into her. "Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away."

Another errant tear streamed down her cheeks, and others soon followed as she sniffled. "If one were to give all the wealth of his house for love, it would be utterly scorned."

His fingers went lax and she felt the pressure relieve from her jaw. Joshua lowered himself from his crouching position and down onto the earth, crossing his legs, mimicking Avery. He repositioned himself, scooting forward a bit until their knees touched. Slowly, apprehensively, he brought his face closer, pressing his forehead against hers. Her fingers found their way to his vest and dug into the worn material, hating the way his body felt so rigid beneath her hands.

"Is this something that you feel you must do, in your heart? In the very fiber of your soul?"

Her chest shook with a suppressed sob. "I'm afraid so," she whispered, her voice small and so weak that she could barely discern it as her own. "This is something I have to do, no matter how badly I want to ignore it."

Joshua pulled away and planted a feather light kiss upon her nose. His blatant displays of affection were strange, as Joshua was rarely the one to ever touch her first. She was always the one to initiate; but she was thankful for his close proximity and the comfort of his touch. Soon she would be gone and never again would she be able to relish the feel of his body against hers and the soothing lull of his smoke-ravaged voice. Maybe he understood the finality of their predicament and pushed aside his discomfort with physical affection, if only to enjoy her presence for the last time.

"When do you leave?" His voice was low as he spoke, his breath fanning against her cheeks.

"Tomorrow morning."

"No," he started adamantly. "Tomorrow we are going to get our first of the Monsoon rains. It'd be wise for you wait out the initial storm, as traveling through the flash floods can be quite dangerous."

"Okay," she agreed. "Okay, I'll wait."

He seemed to relax a bit. "Come, let us head back to camp. I'm sure Daniel is waiting for us to return, as we still have much to discuss."

"Can we… stay here for just a moment longer?"

He made a small sound from the back of his throat, mulling over her request. After a moment he shrugged, "We can stay for as long as you wish."

A dejected smile pulled at her mouth and she sighed deeply as Joshua wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, relishing his scent. Often he smelled of holy oils and spices, like patchouli or rosemary. It was an odd mixture but it was befitting of him, and it often lingered in her hair in her clothing. Not that it bothered her. She could feel the beat of his heart as her temple pressed against his jugular, it's rhythmic pounding a sort of catharsis as she focused on it. One of his hand rubbed comforting circles between her shoulder blades and the other came up to gently cradle the back of her head, and she could feel Joshua's muscles slacken. They were quiet for a long while as they sat there, unsure of how many minutes had passed, but neither of them seemed eager to leave.

She nuzzled her cheek against his vest with a contented hum.

She was definitely going to miss this.

"He has become weak."

Vulpes set aside his binoculars to throw a furtive glance at the Legionary recruit behind him. He sneered at his younger counterpart, letting out a low hiss, before turning his attention back to the valley below them. The couple came into view as he focused the lenses, watching as they embraced beneath the foliaged branches of a Utah fir. It disgusted him. So far this man had fallen. Whereas he once was a powerful, commanding tyrant he was now a weak, pitiful shell of a man. Vulpes was almost ashamed to admit that this was the former Malpais Legate, a man so rancorous and cutthroat that Caesar had him appointed as the second in command.

"Who is his whore?" The recruit thought aloud.

"Desist your incessant droning, recruit."

He focused on the pair, watched them as they embraced, as much to his apparent disgust. Such a frail human, the Malpais was. Falling for a woman, espousing her as an equal. Not but a moment before he could hear them squabbling. The Malpais had held his ground, like a man should when dealing with the weaker sex, but the moment she turned to her wretched display of emotion, sobbing into the dirt… he gave in. He held her in his arms like a mother and her babe.

The flames of Legion vengeance must have damaged the Malpais' brain more than Vulpes anticipated.

Despite trying to hone in, his superior hearing picking up fragments of their conversation, he was unable to decipher who this woman was. Then she stood, stepping away from the shadow of the fir tree, her face exposed by the rays of the afternoon sun. Then it dawned on him, realization smacking him so hard that he almost dropped his binoculars. He knew who she was. This was the Courier, the one whom he had intercepted at Nipton.

"Ah," he said triumphantly. "It's the courier."

What was once a recon mission had now evolved in to something greater. Caesar had heard of the destruction of the White Legs, so he sent the Frumentarii out to Zion Canyon in order to better understand what had happened. Vulpes had known of the existence of the Malpais Legate, or the "Burned Man" as the locals called him, for some time now. As did Caesar. And even though Caesar was aware that the decimation of the White Legs was solely upon the shoulders of his ex-second-in-command, he wanted verification. But this… this was far more than Vulpes had bargained for.

"The courier?"

"Yes, the one who's been causing all that trouble in New Vegas," he said aloofly, watching as the Malpais and the courier began to walk towards the edge of the precipice. "Damn that profligate whore. I should have slit her throat when I had the chance."

He thought of that young, frightened girl who had entered Nipton, her rusted hunting rifle in hand. The pathetic creature had been shaking so badly that she could barely hold her weapon at attention. Killing her then would have been too easy. And he would have invoked the wrath of Caesar in doing so. Apparently, his leader saw a potential in that little girl. But maybe it was a mistake in letting her go, in giving her a chance to see the superior ways of the Legion and allowing her to leave unscathed. She had caused so much discord since that fateful day a year ago. He'd had a second chance to rid her of her pitiful existence, intercepting her outside one of the casinos in New Vegas. But at that time, Caesar had requested an audience with her and Vulpes wasn't allowed to so much as lay a finger on her.

How boring.

And now she was conspiring with the Malpais Legate. What were her intentions? Garnering support for some pathetic army? Hm. His lip twitched as he watched the pair completely disappear and he set down his binoculars. That damned Courier was up to something, and he'd be damned if he didn't uncover her objectives. And quickly, lest she be left up to her own devices and cause even more discordance.

A recruit crouched next to Vulpes and pulled his goggles from his face, letting them hang loosely around his neck. "Should we report back to Caesar?"

Vulpes was silent for a moment. "Hm… yes, that would be the appropriate course of action now, wouldn't it? Well, recruit, how about I send you back with a message for our praefector?"

The recruit nodded simply, awaiting for his commands.

"Tell Caesar of our discovery today. Let him know that the Malpais Legate and the courier are… colluding with one another."

"And what of you?"

Vulpes turned to his younger counterpart, "Tell Caesar I am going to track the Courier. It is our best chance at uncovering the truth behind her actions."

"And once you uncover the truth? What will happen then?"

Vulpes shrugged as he stood, turning to look out at the canyon with a listless glare, "If necessary, we kill her. Simple as that."

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for the awesome reviews! I am so very appreciative that people are reading this and you're all giving me feedback! FANTASTIC.

Okay, so, I'll take this time to answer some of my reviews:

D0hnuts: Yep! Avery has the Black Widow perk, which I kind of hinted to in another chapter (where she mentioned sleeping with and killing Benny). I'd like to think that her and the King are good friends, and that casual sex between the two of them just seemed like the natural order of things. I mean, it makes sense to me!

SuitandThai: Here is some Graham for ya! I thought writing a chapter about their past would be a nice filler.

Guests: Thank you for the "MOAAAR" comment, it was an esteem booster! And also, to the other guest, thank you for complimenting my writing! I've been battling writer's block for a while and this story was huge improvement from my last few fic attempts.

Now, I'm sorry if Graham seemed a bit AU here. I'd like to think that he'd be a bit of a different person around Avery than he would be around, oh, say people like Daniel and Follows Chalk. He'd probably be a tad more affectionate, as well. Anyways, thanks again, please R&R!