Guess what? Scarlet & Vulpes are back. Apologies for my absence. If any of you have read my blog it is explained there in greater detail. Long story short I needed some personal time and last week I started back to school. Preparation for that was more than a little stressful. However, hopefully I will be able to return to my regular updating. Perhaps not as much as before, but more frequently than this last stint of inactivity. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I meant for it to get to some more actiony bits I had planned, but it ended up being more about something else.

Also, belated Happy Holidays and New Years.

Chapter XVII

Under My Skin

The Lucky 38 was floor after floor of opulent luxury. Scarlet was sure that if she would have added up the worth of all the possessions in her childhood home they wouldn't have even been close to the price tag on just one of the suites in this place. The more she explored the more she realized what a great base of operations it could make for a group of people. And although she kept telling herself she was still on the fence about the Legion the only faction that would come to her mind as she considered these rooms was them. Her brain would automatically begin flipping each floor mentally until it revolved into something appropriate and functional for Caesar's army. She kept in mind however, that if she decided against them it would also make a nice headquarters to begin her secret plan B.

An old suitcase revealed a few treasures before she tossed it onto the pile of items she had in the hallway meant for trade. The wound on her leg had healed considerably since she'd had to take her forced sabbatical from her missions, but not enough for her to be running all over the Mojave. It had given her an intense case of cabin fever, one that not even the dark haired Frumentarius could cure. In the last week she'd taken in so much about the Legion and their ways that her head felt like it was going to pop from the sudden influx of culture. It wasn't that she minded the information, it was that she wasn't used to sitting still and the longer she remained stationary the worse she twitched.

Finally she'd decided a little autumn cleaning was in order. The Lucky 38 was her little place now and she intended to take inventory of her belongings as well as get rid of those that did not serve her purposes. At first Vulpes tried to talk her out of it, especially when he'd found her passed out in one of the hotel rooms. Apparently she'd accidentally bumped her leg on a coffee table in the wrong spot, sent spiraling pain throughout her and caused another fainting spell. If she had fallen a few inches more to her left she would have cracked her skull open. Since then he'd insisted on accompanying her on her exploration, which meant that she had to search the rooms when he was not out doing secret Frumentarii special ops. Since he knew he would have to spend a considerable amount of time away from the Fort he had begun keeping tabs on his underlings from the Lucky 38 as well as eying the Strip and the surrounding area for their allies and enemies. Any kind of information was useful in his eyes.

Lately he'd been concerning himself with some kind of plan with the Van Graffs. Scarlet didn't know what it was, but she'd heard the name mentioned, and she had a bad feeling. Nobody in their right mind trusted those psychopaths, and although the Frumentarii did their jobs very well, they might overlook the sheer unreliability of trying to ally themselves with them. She just hoped they weren't making the wrong choice.

"That's the last of the stuff for this floor." Scarlet announced. "I think I can get a decent trade for this." She placed her hands on her hips, ignoring the ever occasional twinges from her calf, and surveyed the pile of objects.

"I do not see why you need to sell all of these items. You are aware that we can provide you with everything you need; all you have to do is ask."

Scarlet lifted her gaze to him and opened her mouth to speak, but was unsure of what to say. That was a two-pronged conversation. There were two reasons she insisted upon making her own money. The first was purely just because she couldn't count on the Legion if she decided against them. The second was that she didn't know how to get him to understand that he was missing the point. Not only was it important for her to maintain some kind of independence, but also she was bored as hell and needed something to do. If only she could waltz out the front door and go gunning through Fiend-infested New Vegas she could get some of this bottled up energy out of the way. Then again, maybe as a fighter he'd understand what it felt like to feel useless. Not that he had probably ever had a moment like that in his life.

"I appreciate the generosity," she replied, opting for a diplomatic approach, "but I still feel very uncomfortable taking from you. Its like taking charity from a complete stranger."

"So I am a complete stranger?"

"No, I meant the Legion. I still don't know how I feel so I can't knowingly just take. It would feel like stealing to me, and I don't feel right doing that. Some people might not have a problem and would just use you guys and then ditch, but I can't. So please don't take it personally when I say I can't accept anything you or Caesar offer me right now like that."

He regarded her for a few minutes longer than normal and she wondered what he was thinking. Then he nodded. "If that is the way you feel, but know the offer will remain on the table as long as you have positive dealings with us."

"Thank you for understanding, and if its any consolation I do hope that one day I'll be able to not worry about these things, that I'll be able to accept from the Legion's hospitality."

"When you put it like that it stands to reason that since you want to be able to one day accept our offer that means that you one day want to become a part of us. It seems like you've already made up your mind." He was trying to convince her. One last carefully planned out phrase that was meant to click in her head and make her go Eureka!

However, "its not as simple as that, Vulpes. I just don't want to make a choice I'll regret. I don't want to jump on the Legion bandwagon on a whim. It can't be an emotional decision. I have to weigh the merits of Caesar's army, its flaws. As much as it would pain me to one day disappoint you I just – I need time." She hated to admit that, but her attraction to him was already out there on the table. They'd both be fools if they ignored that it might be a factor in her decision making process.

Vulpes closed the small distance between them, his eyes never leaving the contours of her face. Scarlet could already feel the breath catching in her throat and that arrhythmic pounding in his chest intensify. Sometimes she wondered if he could hear her heart beating so desperately when that happened, because when it did it roared in her ears like a deathclaw that hadn't had a meal in ages and wanted to fill that void in his stomach. With Vulpes that void was elsewhere, and needed something insubstantial. It was nothing that could be bought or sold, something higher. Something purer.

The fingers that ghosted along her jawline, brushed the loose strands of hair out of her face coaxed that feeling closer to the surface. His probing, intelligent eyes lingered way too long upon hers and made her almost believe that he could reach inside and read her mind. "I don't think that you'll disappoint me." He told her. "I think that you'll make the right decision."

"If you kiss me right now I'll break." Honesty might have been the best policy, but it was also embarrassingly revealing.

"Then I had better not." He took a step back and broke the trance that had set over her. For that stretch of time he had woven his power around her and then released her.

"You know that you could probably sway me whenever you wanted to, but you don't. Why is that?"

A smile melted from his lips and spread across his face. It even touched the depths of his eyes, which filled with a poignant and gentle solemnity. "Because perhaps, I, too, want you to choose the Legion due to its merits and not just because of me – although it would be flattering and would make quite the achievement on my resume."

"Well, I could say not much of one really. We both know you could have had me back in Nipton." She didn't want his ego getting too big. "Speaking of which, why didn't you? We both know you watched me. Why did you watch me? I was nothing to you."

"Honestly I considered going back and claiming you, even though I had assured you safe passage."

"Gaius told me as much." It wasn't a revelation to her anymore. At least not the revelation he had been expecting it to be, but it did have a certain power actually hearing it from Vulpes himself. It was confirmation, not just rumor.

"Gaius talks too much." Vulpes seemed displeased, yet the displeasure was mild and overshadowed by amusement.

"You talk too much, too, sometimes." She prodded.

He lifted an eyebrow at her. "I do?"

"Just a bit. Don't worry though, its ok. I like you anyway." She smirked at him. Still, she had to know. So she repeated the question. "Why didn't you?"

His chest rose as he took a deep breath, recalling that day. "I always keep my word. A man's word is sometimes all he has. Yes, I've told lies as a Frumentarii to progress the Legion, but I had meant what I said when I told you that you could go freely away from there. Also the respect you showed me and the other Legionaries with me could not be ignored and from a profligate was something to be rewarded. With mere words you stayed my hand – and my own personal desire to possess." He wondered what the consequences of acting upon them and taking her out of the game so early would have been. It might have been dire. It might not have mattered. Neither would ever know now because that was not the path that was chosen.

Scarlet stood on her tiptoes and pressed a chaste, but meaningful kiss to his cheek. "Lucky me."

"Indeed."

"And you never know," she let her hands trail over his shoulders to the collar of his shirt, where they tugged playfully, "it might have just prolonged the inevitable. I guess we'll see."

"I guess we will."

-X-

Part of the reason that Caesar had sent him instead of one of the others was because of Scarlet's moth-to-flame draw to him. She might have said that she didn't want to make this about emotions; Vulpes knew better. He had taken in everything she had done since they'd been traveling together and knew that she could not be so coldly logical even if those centers of her brain were removed. He could have also argued this fact and reminded her just how much she wanted to be by his side. He could have crushed her to the wall or led her over to a dust-covered bed and threw her down on the comforter and she would not have fought him. She would have succumbed; she would have obeyed.

Yet he had learned through experience that sometimes you didn't play the winning card in your hand. You held onto it. When you had won you won and it didn't matter if it was lying face up on the table for everyone to see or if it was tucked discreetly in the palm of your hand. Really she had said all those things to convince herself she was being rational, and that she was making the right choice. When it came to the end she would lay down her own hand and fold and that would be on her. There would be no room for her to tell herself she had been coerced into laying all the winnings at his feet, winnings that would include her as prize. She needed that room to make that choice unrushed and freely.

Scarlet said she needed time, and was very patient about checking all her options. Vulpes was more patient. This was a waiting game and he always won those.

So he helped her carry her saleable items down the stairs and to all the shops that she did business with. Watched as she traded this for that, filled her bags with newly pressed ammunition from the Gun Runners, pretended not to notice the stimpaks and med-x she hurriedly hid in a side zipper pouch. Now and then he would insert an innocent touch to her shoulder, or accidentally brush her hand with his and knew that they would have more effect on her than any in-depth conversation about the pros and cons of the Legion Vs. the NCR ever could.

They were just passing the Gomorrah when he felt a hard impact on his left side. When he looked he caught the apologetic, yet familiar face of a fellow Frumentarius. "Oh, sorry! I need to watch where I'm going."

"That's all right." Vulpes replied, sticking the folded up piece of paper that had been passed to him into his pocket and continuing as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Scarlet hadn't caught it, and Vulpes would have been alarmed if she had. She frowned back at the man, who was now disappearing through the gates into Freeside. "Starting this early? Or maybe he wasn't drunk, just distracted. People."

Vulpes smiled at her. "Let's get your purchases back inside, shall we?"

-X-

They dropped the bags in the elevator and as they road up he took out the note. "Where'd you get that?"

"From Alerio. The man I bumped into outside." Vulpes replied, rather distracted as he read the orders form the Fort.

"Oh, so that was one of you guys – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to insult him a minute ago."

"No, you saw what you were meant to see. Which is assuring. It means we're doing our jobs well."

"Very well. I'll probably never look at two people running into each other the same way again though."

Vulpes folded the note back and smirked. "I'm sure you won't. However," the elevator came to their floor and stopped, doors clanking open, "I have some bad news."

Scarlet's brows knit with an anxious twitch. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've just been called back to the Fort on official business." It wasn't too odd to be receiving orders such as that when he was away. Things came up. The world didn't stop moving just because Vulpes Inculta was absent. How much easier life would be if that were the case. Alas.

"May I read it?" Scarlet ventured. Her tone was more timid than usual. He should, but he handed it to her anyway and let her read it while he removed her bags and took them to her bedroom. When he returned she looked confused. "I don't understand."

"You wouldn't. I do. There's been a little project I've been working on, recon and the like. It seems that this project is nearing its completion and I have to go back to make the final preparations." He plucked the crumpled paper from her hands and wandered into the kitchen, where he pull a small box of matches off the shelf and pulled it open. "I had hoped we would have more time."

"So did I. You'll come back, right?" Scarlet leaned against the door to the kitchen, watching as he lit the paper on fire, holding it at the tip and letting the flames slowly move towards his fingers. Finally he dropped it into the basin of the sink and turned back to her.

"Yes. When its over. At least that's what I will assume. You're important to Caesar so I will likely return. While I am there I will give the full report about what happened with the Boomers and get our next assignment."

"What do I do until then?"

"Stay out of trouble."

-X-

"You know, this is where I sat when I was trying to figure out how to answer Caesar's question." Scarlet said. She and Vulpes had been sitting out on the front steps of the Lucky 38 since he'd finished getting ready to go back to the Fort. He had wanted to wait until nightfall so that he could use the dark to conceal his movements so they were passing time people watching. They hadn't spoken much, especially since Scarlet had become withdrawn, probably due to the prospect of him leaving. For such an independent individual it surprised Vulpes that she was taking their separation so negatively. It was also a good sign.

"I guess this spot has served you well then." Vulpes answered her after a moment, following her gaze towards the entrance of the Gomorrah.

"I suppose." She sighed and pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from one of her pockets and slipped one of them into her mouth.

Immediately Vulpes frowned. "I didn't know you smoked." It was such a disgusting habit, right up there with alcohol and chems.

She smirked, the nicotine-filled tube bobbing slightly as she did so. "I don't really." She lit the tip and inhaled. "Its more of a comfort thing. This," she lifted the pack up and wiggled it a bit for emphasis, "is kind of sentimental."

"Explain." How could a pack of cancer-causing, breath-stealing, poisoned tubes of death be sentimental?

"Before my dad died he used to smoke, more so when he was troubled. I remember how he used to sit in his office or on the porch with this… look on his face. We knew when he looked like that and had an ashtray full of cigarette butts next to him he was considering something important. After he died, and after everything went down, but before I burned the house to the ground I went into his office and took this last pack out of his desk. It was missing only three at the time." Vulpes noted by the sound the pack made when she shook it that it was still at least half full if not three-quarters. "From then on, anytime I really needed to think on something I would take one. It comforted me because it felt like there was a part of my dad with me. It's silly, maybe superstitious, but in a way I hope that through that last link with him I might get some kind of inspiration or make a choice like he would have."

"I see." He didn't know what to make of that. The Legion disapproved of such things; he disapproved of such things. Yet her reasoning was sound, nigh spiritual. It was strange how many gray zones the Courier had led him through so far. "I take it then that you are troubled."

"Everything seems to be closing in on me. And now I won't have anything to distract myself from it. I guess that makes me weak." She took another drag and glanced down at the ground, ashamedly. "Anything can become an addiction, even the need for companionship."

Vulpes held out his fingers, indicating he wanted the cigarette in her hands. Reluctantly, curiously she handed it to him. "You don't need this." He told her, almost with an air of instruction. He put out the end on the step next to him. Instead of throwing it to the side he broke off the tip and reached over to take the pack out of her hands. For a moment her fingers closed around it – a flicker of panic, fear that he would take them and discard them and therefore discarding the last remnant of her father – but the released, as if resigning herself to what he wished to do with it. He slipped the remaining length of the cigarette she'd been smoking back into the pack and then handed it back to her. "And if they're really that important to you then you need not waste one on me."

"Its not like that—" She began; the blush that splashed across her ivory skin revealed it as a lie.

"I'll be back," Vulpes continued, "and we'll begin our work again. You also need not worry about your decision; it will come to you. Even if you did let this get to you I would advise that you don't need those. Your father isn't in them. They're a window perhaps that you can see him in, but nothing more. You hold his memory more than anything could. So if you would like you keep them for sentimentality, but I don't think you need to use them."

Scarlet held them in her hands, studying them for a few minutes as if trying to glean some deeper meaning from them. Although it wasn't really the cigarettes she was considering, but his words. "I never really thought of it like that. Maybe you're right." She slipped them back in her pocket. "Then again it could be that you just don't like cigarettes and are trying to get me to stop it so I don't offend the natives." The natives of course being other Legionaries.

"Or it could be both."

"That, too." She smiled. "You should have been a psychiatrist."

"I would have been a terrible one. Although manipulating profligates to suicide sounds like a worthwhile profession." In truth he was a little like a psychiatrist already, at least in the fact he had to constantly be analyzing the motivations behind other's actions. If you knew how someone's mind worked then you knew exactly how to get them to do what you wanted.

"Why go to all that trouble when you can just kill them?"

"You are depraved." He told her, but the sharp curve of his lips indicated that he was very much amused by her statement.

"You love that about me."

"I find it a useful tool." He nodded, half-agreeing.

Scarlet gave him a wicked grin, "I bet you know all about useful 'tools.'"

He returned it, leaning over to whisper in her ear, "with the right tools you can bend or break anything… anyone." His breath was warm against her neck and it stirred the fine hairs there, causing a chill to roll down her spine. He nodded towards a rough-looking gentleman trailing a rather refined looking one; bodyguard and employer combo most likely. "For instance, a pair of pliers might illicit the most agonizing response from even hardened individuals. Simple? Crude? Yes. Effective? Also, very much yes." His voice was dangerous, dripping with darkness and brutality. Somehow it still managed to curl knots deep inside Scarlet in places she would rather not mention. Then he continued, his tone dropping to a purr, adding a hand onto her knee. "But her," he changed the direction to a proper-looking lady passing into the second section of the strip. Likely on her way to the Ultra Luxe. "Another 'device'… " He let that implication hang in the air for a moment, "if used correctly would leave that one curled into a boneless ball of putty, ready to be molded to any purpose."

Scarlet took a steady, but deep breath and swallowed, watching the way his eyes danced over the crowd. It was as if he held a great mirth at the thoughts of how to undo every single person that passed them by, to see each stripped down to the basest of the human condition. Vulnerable, pooled in agony or ecstasy at his feet.

Without warning he got to his feet and reached down for her hands. It was dark now and he would be leaving. She accepted his offer of assistance and was swiftly pulled to her feet. His hand pressed against her back and urged her against his chest and he dipped his head to speak softly, privately to her once more. "Do you know the difference between torture and seduction?"

"One hurts and one doesn't?" She answered, voice quivering just slightly. Even before it was fully out she knew she was wrong.

"Not quite." He replied. Scarlet was hyperaware of their closeness, much like it had been during the encounter when they were returning from Jacobstown. That darkness within him was also there, as well as the firm grip he had on her body and mind. He didn't have to bind her to hold her rapt. She knew that these moments, along with their initial meeting in Nipton was the closest to the real Vulpes Inculta that she had seen. His charisma, that personable charm and patient demeanor were just that: a façade. Oddly, even moreover shamefully, she wouldn't have minded that Vulpes being around more often as much as he might have thought she would. However, she knew that if he was she would be powerless against him.

"Then what?"

"When torture goes correctly they beg for you to stop. When seduction goes correctly they beg you for more." He tilted his head to the side and lowered his lips upon hers. At first it was the mildest brush, barely enough to feel his. As her eyes fluttered shut he deepened the kiss, his mouth speaking words without uttering a sound. He might as well have been reminding her who she belonged to. There had been no official battle of wills or admitted victory but they both knew the game and who had the advantage.

Scarlet had never considered herself very good at kissing before, and had never had too much practice. Yet the slow, measured pace that Vulpes took with this kiss made everything seem elementary. Their tongues danced as if choreographed, like old partners reunited. Each caress made the world around them revolve slower and slower until they were the only thing that mattered, the only thing that existed. Her head swam with the pleasure of their joined mouths, and through the lightheadedness she focused on his promise of return with anticipation.

Somewhere, perhaps in a faraway world, she heard an uttered phrase hidden beneath a sigh. Some passerby, some woman declaring, "how romantic. I wish someone would kiss me like that."

Scarlet could have laughed if she hadn't been entranced. Yes, they must have looked quite the couple, standing together on the strip, one last kiss goodbye. With Vulpes' closely cropped hair and physique he could probably be mistaken for one of the NCR soldiers out of uniform, on leave. She was saying farewell to a soldier, yes, but not the one that some might have thought. He was her Legionary; at least for now. It struck her with force how much she was beginning to become okay with that.

When they finally stepped back from each other she said, breathless, "I will have to disagree with you though."

"About?"

"I don't find much difference in the two. I'd even go so far to say that seduction itself is a form of torture."

"In the best cases it usually is."

He made her promise once more to stay out of trouble and then hoisted his traveling bag over his shoulder. One last lingering touch and then he was gone. But he'd be back; he said he would.

As usual, I appreciate all your responses. I hope to hear from you soon.