Reason for Reason - Chapter 1

Summary: After being forced to kill her fiance when the two trespass on Rook Islands, Mari Gálvez is welcomed with open arms by Vaas Montenegro, leader of the Pirates, a faction on the islands. Mari discovers that Vaas has more in store for her than just a job as the Pirates' head medic, and that life on Rook Islands with Vaas is a lot more interesting than she initially thought it would be.

Chapter Summary: Mari Gálvez and her fiance arrive on Rook Islands– though not by Mari's choice– and after being found by Vaas and his Pirates, Mari is tasked with killing her fiance in order to live. After this, Vaas tests her loyalty to him and she passes, making her an official member of the Pirates. After a hunting trip to prove her skills, Vaas and Mari find themselves feeling a bit more than just loyalty towards one another.

Rating: Explicit, +18

Media: Far Cry 3

Pairing: Vaas Montenegro/Mari Gálvez (OC)

Word Count: ~11.5k

CW: Canon typical violence, murder, brief suicide mention (mentioned once, not described), emotional abuse mention (briefly discussed), blood, animal death, mild gore, Not SFW mentions, heavily Not SFW situations and dialogue (no sex though), biting

…

“Look, if you don't want to dive here, just stay on the boat, Mari.”

“I do want to dive, I just think we should be careful.”

“Ooh, the water around here is too dangerous.”

The way Paul mocks her sends a pang of rage and hurt into her chest. Mari stands up, directly in front of where Paul sits on the boat, and angrily zips her wetsuit over her chest, proving to him she will dive here, then wordlessly walks over to the scuba gear and begins to suit up.

“What, I was just kidding!” Paul yells after her, throwing up his hands. “You heard me, right? It was a joke!” He yells to the captain.

The captain shrugs and turns away. He's got no reason to care whether the lovely bride to be is angry with her future husband. He goes back to checking the navigation system, although it's likely he's just trying to get Paul to leave him alone.

Mari returns to Paul, who is still seated, and she's fully dressed in her diving gear. Her hands are on her hips, and she looks at him as if to say, “well?”

“I'll go put mine on, too,” Paul says, standing up. But as he stands, he notices they're directly across from a secluded cove on the nearby island, and stops in his tracks.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mari asks. “Diving, remember?”

Paul shakes his head. “Nah, nah. Captain! Can you take the boat closer to the island? I wanna go take some photos on land!”

Mari yanks off her rebreather and looks at Paul like he's an idiot. “Are you crazy? Going on an island we don't even know, when I'm already prepped to dive? Look at the boats that come and go, Paul. I don't trust it.”

He waves his hand at her. “It'll be fine, just a quick walk up the beach. Yo, captain! Go over to the island!”

The captain glares at him. “I just dropped anchor so you could dive, now you want me to pull it back up so you can go on the island? There's nowhere to dock!”

“That's okay, just get close and we'll swim! That’s what we'll do, right, Mari?”

She gives him a dangerous look. “Paul, I don't trust that island. Some of the men on those boats were carrying guns, do you want to end up dead?”

Paul puts a hand on Mari’s shoulder, which causes her to recoil and cringe. “It will be just fine, Mari. I promise. We won't even go near where those guys were.”

Mari looks over at the captain, who once more shrugs. She then sighs and tosses off the rest of her diving equipment.

“Fine. But if anything happens, it's your fault,” she says, sitting down and crossing her arms.

“To the island!” Paul shouts enthusiastically.

The captain groans and walks over to the anchor and pulls it back up, which takes a moment. It gives Mari time to reflect– she loves these adventures Paul takes her on, but over the two years they've been together, he's continued to grate on her nerves, and this incident might be what finally makes her snap.

Once the anchor is up, the captain returns to the controls of the boat and heads towards the shore. He can only stop it a good ten feet from the beach, so Mari and Paul have to swim. Mari grabs her camera, which is intended for underwater use but can be used on land, and jumps into the water before Paul even grabs his own camera.

The two swim to the shore, Paul yapping and chattering but Mari is not listening. When they reach the shore, they trudge through the wet sand and eventually make it to the dry, soft sand. Mari stands with her hands on her hips, not bothering to take a single photo– meanwhile, Paul is rushing around the cove, snapping shots of anything and everything.

It seems okay for the moment– quiet, save for the ambience of the waves crashing and wind in the trees. Mari comes to think it's actually quite pretty, and she reluctantly takes a photo of the archway the rock formations make above the entrance to the jungle.

As she reviews the photo on her camera screen, she notices something in the jungle, and squints her eyes and zooms in. Are those…people?

Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot disrupts the soft, tropical ambience, and Mari and Paul look over in horror to see the captain has been shot directly in the head, killed instantly.

“Get down!” Mari calls, shoving Paul behind part of the rock formation and following him.

She crouches down, pressing her back against the rocks, and pulls her diving knife from the sheath on her calf. Footsteps continue to approach, and she holds it at the ready.

“We know you're back there, amigos!” Calls a voice. “Just come out here, we want to talk! C'mon, c'mon, let's talk!”

Paul looks at Mari like he's going to run out and meet these strangers, and she shakes her head. But just as soon as they could make a decision, one of the men grabs Mari under the arms.

“Fuck off!” She snaps, throwing her arm back and jamming her diving knife into the man's neck. He goes limp, falling and letting her go.

As she goes to stab the next assailant, he disarms her, tossing the knife into the sand, and restrains her. He pushes her to her knees, and another man does the same to Paul. Through the group of men, all dressed in red tank tops with bandanas over their faces, emerges who Mari can only assume is the leader.

And he's shockingly good looking– not that it matters…or does it?

Mari's eyes widen when she sees him, lustful thoughts beginning to cloud her judgment, and Paul's eyes widen when he sees the man dual wielding pistols– one pointed at Mari and one pointed at him.

“Oh god, oh god,” Paul whimpers, looking away from the man.

“Shut the fuck up!” Snaps the leader, focusing his aim even more on Paul's head. “Shut up! You think your god is going to save you, huh? Let me ask you this, if your god was so fucking benevolent, so worth praying for, would you be in this situation? Eh? No? Then fucking shut up!”

Mari looks at Paul, the look in her eyes agreeing with the leader, telling him to shut up. He does as he's asked, though reluctantly.

“See, was that so hard, hermano?” He asks Paul, crouching down to his level and tilting his head. “Your, eh, girl here, see, she knows how to keep quiet, keep calm. She's behaving. It doesn't make me want to put a bullet in her skull like you do!” He yells the last part.

Mari actually blushes when the leader calls her “girl.” Normally, if someone were to call her that in such a manner, she'd beat their face in, but when the handsome man holding her at gunpoint says it, it feels different. She likes this.

“You,” the leader says, now focusing his gaze on Mari, “what are you doing on my island? Huh? You think you can come here and have fun with your white boy? What makes you think that? What fucking makes you think that?!”

“We were just–” Paul begins, which only earns a gun in his face.

“Shut the fuck up! I was asking her!” The leader yells. “So, what are you doing on my island?” The way he speaks to her is more soft this time.

Mari swallows hard. “Him. He wanted to take pictures, and dragged me along with him. I swear, I didn't want to set foot on your island, but he made me. If there's anyone to blame, it's him.”

The man raises his eyebrows and now focuses both guns on Paul. “That true, hermano? You made the pretty girl come with you? She didn't want to come, and you made her. She said no. You didn't listen. You made her come to the island when she said no! You didn't fucking listen!”

“That's not–” Paul begins, but the other man puts the gun directly against his skull.

“Shut up!” He yells. “You know, I hate people like you. People who don't know when to quit. Who don't understand that there's a fucking limit! Fuck! I should kill you, you know that? I should kill you, but I think there's someone who deserves to do it more than me.”

Mari blinks thrice, a quirk of hers, as the man hands her one of the guns. She's familiar with them– some of the trips they've been on have involved hunting, and she's more skilled with a rifle, remarkably so, in fact. But something about the pistol in her hand feels right.

“Tell you what,” the leader says, uncharacteristically soft and gentle, “you kill him, or I kill both of you. Sound good?”

Paul begins to protest. “What?! No, no, Mari, you wouldn't, right?! Right?! Please, there has to be some other way!!”

With a slow, single blink and a deep breath, Mari turns and aims the gun at Paul's head. The look on his face contains so much betrayal, and yet she feels zero remorse for what's to come.

“Paul,” she begins, “you know my history. I have survived too many suicide attempts to die like this. I think this is a sign that I deserve to live. I'm meant to live. And if killing you is how I stay alive, then so be it.”

Paul looks at her with absolute horror. “Mari, what–”

“Let her talk!” The leader snaps.

Mari nods. “Paul, you are…not right for me. I like the adventures you take me on, and that's it. At all other times, you treat me like I'm stupid. Guilt trip me. Nothing is ever your fault. I don't love you, Paul. I don't think I ever have. So doing this, it's not a big deal for me. Saving myself by killing you, eh…call it a necessary evil.”

“You really feel this way?” Paul asks, hurt in his voice. “Mari. I– I'm so sorry.”

The leader points his own remaining gun at Paul. “Sorry?! You think sorry can cover what you did to her?! Emotional abuse, hermano. Ever heard of it? That's what you did to her!! Mari, is it? Go on, pull the trigger!!”

Mari nods again, then looks at Paul in his last moments, her parting words a simple, “Adíos.”

She pulls the trigger with no hesitation, the bullet piercing right between Paul's eyes. He drops dead right next to her, and she begins to breathe heavily, as if regret has just set in.

“H-here,” Mari says nervously, handing the gun back to the leader. “C-can I go now?”

The leader laughs and puts his hands on her shoulders. “You kidding me?! Fuck no, I'm keeping you around! You're ruthless! Tell me, Mari, what do you do?”

“What?” She's stunned by his decision to keep her around.

“Your job, Mari. I want to know if you're useful outside of combat. Are you a cook, a medic, a secretary? You know, your job.”

Mari nods in understanding. “I'm a nurse. Emergency medicine.”

His eyes widen and he smiles. “A nurse, huh? Emergency medicine? Hmm. I want you to prove your skills, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Her eyebrows furrow. “How?”

The man whistles at another of his crew and nods head towards the jungle. “Go get a first aid kit. Now!”

He rushes off, and the leader observes Mari. Now, she's trembling, muttering something about “a new start” in a mess of Spanish and English. How this is what she needs. The leader is confused by this, but says nothing.

The other crew member soon returns with a large box emblazoned with a green cross– the first aid kit. He drops it in the sand in front of Mari, opens it, and then the leader hands her back a gun.

“Mari,” he says, “to prove to me that you are a medic worth anything to me, I want you to shoot yourself in the thigh, and then I want you to fix it up in front of me. It's easy, right? Just some emergency medicine. Like you said you can do.”

Her eyes widen. “I– I could hit an important artery. There's no saving that.”

The leader tilts his head. “So you're saying you can't do it?”

“N-no, I can fix it if it doesn't hit the artery, but if it does, I'm dead in minutes. There's no tourniquet in that kit. I'd bleed out.”

He clicks his tongue. “Then you better hope you don't hit that artery, eh?”

Mari inhales sharply, and shifts positions so that her legs are out straight in front of her. She presses the gun against her thigh, in a place she is almost certain, but not entirely, that the bullet will not hit her vital blood vessel. As her finger squeezes the trigger, slowly, she screws her eyes shut.

And there's nothing. Only a click.

Her eyes shoot open and she looks confused, repeatedly pulling the trigger only to hear clicks in response.

“It's empty,” Mari says shakily, her eyes blinking even more rapidly than usual.

“You passed the test!” The leader yells, standing up and throwing his arms in the air. “You passed!”

She looks even more confused. “What test?”

He laughs and takes the gun from her, spinning it on his finger. “The gun was never loaded! This wasn't a test to see your medic skills, no, no– it was to prove your loyalty, your obedience! You were willing to shoot yourself in the thigh for me, because I told you to, and even though you didn't know the gun was empty, here you are, trying and trying to shoot the fucking thing into yourself! You passed!”

She continues blinking quickly, mouth open in shock. There are no words to describe the odd mix of relief, confusion, and mild anger that Mari feels in that moment. The gun was never loaded. The gun was never fucking loaded. It was a loyalty test. And she passed.

He watches her face. He observes the unique way she blinks– thrice in succession, never just once. And given the circumstances, she's blinking even more than usual. Her eyes are very pretty, he thinks to himself– big and bright, almost black, long lashes.

“Mari, your eyes flutter like pretty little butterflies...hey, wait...Mari...Mariposa!! My little Mariposa!!” The leader shouts, noticing how she blinks rapidly. “Everybody, welcome Mariposa into the Pirates!”

The other men, apparently “Pirates,” begin cheering and chanting her new nickname. One even shoots a gun into the air in a gesture of victory. The leader offers his hand to Mari, and she takes it, standing up on shaky legs.

“So, you've given me a name,” Mari says, her voice still raspy with anxiety, “what can I call you?”

He smiles at her, a smile that is genuine and almost…affectionate. “Vaas, my little Mariposa. My name is Vaas.”

She nods. “Vaas. You've given me the fresh start I've been looking for. I didn't expect to find it joining a crew of Pirates, but…I think I'm going to like this. It's new. Exciting.”

Vaas throws an arm around her shoulders. “Trust me, Mariposa, you're gonna love it. Now, we're gonna head back to my place, my compound. I'll have a room for you there. We'll get you changed into some fresh clothes instead of that wetsuit. Maybe a shower, if you want.”

“Sounds good,” Mari responds, walking with Vaas, his arm still over her shoulders.

Now, this is something she'd normally dislike, but something about Vaas is different. Sure, he's clearly got issues, but he's showing her a sweet side that she's almost certain he doesn't show often, if at all. And she likes it.

…

After a short walk through the jungle, in which Vaas doesn't take his arm off Mari's shoulders, they arrive at what she can only assume is part of his compound. Half-industrial, half-natural, this place is certainly interesting. It's almost like a shanty town built alongside a collapsed old tower, covered in greenery retaking its space. However, the compound displays more grandeur than most living spaces of this persuasion.

At least, this is in the case of Vaas's personal quarters, which they briefly pass by. It's comfortable, decorated nicely, but the other Pirates don't seem to have the luxury. Their quarters seem to be more like military barracks, with a few seeming to have their own little shacks, but it seems no one truly lives in a place of their own.

Mari fears that she will also not have a comfortable place to herself when Vaas leads her through the doors to the main bunker and up to a makeshift building created from a sea shipping container. Yes, that which is found on a ship, but with a door implemented in the side. Vaas opens the door, and Mari is pleasantly surprised by what it reveals.

“You can stay here if you'd like,” Vaas offers, his voice much calmer than before. “It's a nice place, really, I promise. Look.”

It's small, given that it's inside of a literal shipping container, but it's remarkably homey. There's a simple but comfortable-looking bed against the corner where one wall and the back opening meet, which has a makeshift window cut out above it. The window does, interestingly, have a proper metal frame and glass pane, which sort of surprises her.

“See, there's the bed,” Vaas says as he gestures at the furniture, “and this is a couple of storage things, see…”

He pulls open and shuts the drawers of a plain wooden dresser, and then the doors of a metal cabinet, taller than both of them, so at least six feet, with racks inside that seem to be for mounting something. Guns? Probably.

“You can put anything in here,” he says excitedly, “clothes, weapons, even a first aid kit for you. Yeah, I'll get you a first aid kit for your place. Yeah. And some fresh clothes, ‘cause let's face it, you don't want to run around in that wetsuit forever, eh?”

Mari nods, looking down at her bloodstained and sopping wet attire. “Yeah, I don't really want to wear it anymore. Or ever again.”

Vaas nods, pointing at her. “I got you. No, no, I really do. I'll have someone find some smaller clothes for you, yeah? It's all guys around here, but I think we can find something that'll fit you. Yeah.”

“That's really nice of you,” she says softly, standing completely still, unsure of what to do.

“Hey!” Vaas yells out the door. “One of you go find something that'll fit her! I don't care if it's not near here, go get it, now! She needs fucking clothes! And don't get it from the women here, I want something clean! Go!”

He returns to the room with a rather soft smile on his face– strange, considering how he had just screamed at his men.

“Sorry about that, Mariposa. They're going to find you something nice. Should we get back to the tour? Yes, yeah, let me show you.”

Guiding her over to the door at the other end of the container room, which reveals something interesting– a bathroom. It's nothing special, just a very plain sink with a mirror above it, a fairly normal-looking toilet, and a shower with a makeshift curtain made of a tarp.

“See, we managed to put in this other wall and this door and this bathroom,” Vaas begins again, “fully functional, hot water and all, plumbing works great, that's why I haven't given it to anyone else yet.

You know that? Others have asked for this spot but no, no, I don't give it to them, because I'm waiting for someone special. And you, see, you're special, so you get it! Isn't that nice?”

At this point, Mari is genuinely smiling, genuinely excited. “It's very nice. I…I can't believe your hospitality, Vaas. You're kind.”

He tilts his head and smirks, then takes her chin between his thumb and index finger. “Mariposa, I'll be kind to you forever. See, I haven't known you that long, but I know you're loyal, you're a fighter, you're smart. I know I can trust you. You're special. So I'll be kind to you, yes. And this is just the beginning.”

As he holds her face this way, forcing her to tilt her head up and look him in the eyes, Mari blushes and begins to bat her eyelashes again.

“Really?” She asks softly.

Vaas’ smile widens. “Of course. You're gonna get dressed when one of those useless pendejos brings back some clothes, and I'm gonna show you more, okay? I'm gonna give you more, too.”

Her eyebrows raise. “Give?”

“Yes, Mariposa. Give. I'm going to give you anything you want, because you're my loyal little Mariposa, and I've already got a few things in mind. But they have to wait until you're all cleaned up and ready, okay?”

Mari nods. “Yeah. I really want to get out of this thing. Cleanse myself of my old life, yeah?”

Her eyes cast down and notice that even against the dark, wet fabric of her suit, a splash of Paul's blood can be seen across her chest. She's sure it's on her face, too.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. You don't need that life anymore, right? You have me now, right?” Vaas reassures her.

Mari wordlessly nods and smiles, and Vaas walks back out of the shipping container. Mari follows, and stands behind him.

“Hey!!” He yells at anyone who will listen, “did any of you find her some clothes, huh?!”

A couple of Pirates run up, one clutching a pile of what appears to be clothes and a pair of boots, the other with toiletries and a towel.

“Here, boss,” one of them says, offering up the clothes. “We couldn't find any underwear, so I hope a bathing suit works.”

Vaas tilts his head. “A bathing suit?”

The pirate looks nervous. “I-it's all I could find…”

“It works,” Mari says, stepping beside Vaas and taking the clothes in her arms. “Thanks.”

“You sure?” Vaas asks her. “I can make them get you something else. I can punish them for bringing you something you didn't ask for. Just ask me, Mariposa, ask me and I'll do it.”

She shakes her head. “Not necessary, Vaas. It's fine.”

He shrugs. “Okay then. You, what did you bring?”

The other pirate offers up what he has. “I, uh, I got a bar of soap, a towel, and one of those little hotel shampoos.”

Vaas looks to Mari for approval, and when she nods, he takes the items from the pirate.

“Good. You've done your job, now get outta here, okay? You leave her alone, you got me? You don't talk to her unless she talks to you. You don't touch her living quarters. She's off limits to you.”

“Yes, boss,” they say simultaneously, then turn away and walk with what almost appears to be shame in their gait.

Seeing how domineering Vaas is with his Pirates excites Mari. Logically, she should be scared, but with a brain full of lust and hopefulness for a new life, she just isn’t. Somehow, in all his intimidating ways and unhinged quirks, Vaas has charmed her, and she is wrapped around his finger just as tightly as the bandages that he has on them. Why does he have bandages on them, when there are no injuries? A question for another time.

“So,” Vaas says, snapping Mari out of her little trance, “you want to go clean up now? Go clean up and I’ll keep showing you around, yeah? And I’ll give you those things I promised.”

“Yeah. I’ll only take a minute, don’t worry,” Mari says as she departs back to the living quarters he’d assigned her.

She locks the door behind her and walks into the bathroom, sliding her water shoes off along the way. Once inside, she peels out of her wetsuit– that tainted, cursed wetsuit– and views herself in the mirror. There is, in fact, a small splatter of Paul’s blood on her cheek, and she runs two fingers across it. It’s dry, and to her, this signifies that it’s all over. Her old life is all over. Mari splashes some water on her face and scrubs away the last of the sanguineous stain, then turns the dial to the shower on.

Vaas was right– there is hot water, and it is hot. Unexpectedly so, for such a setup. Mari steps in and draws the curtain shut, then allows the hot water to pelt at her skin. She uses the bar of soap the Pirates had given her to scrub every inch of her body clean, scrubbing with such force it leaves red marks in its wake. When she washes her hair, Mari digs her nails against her scalp, too, the aggressive act of cleaning herself a unique way to quite literally wash away her past.

Once finished with her shower, Mari towels off quickly and then wraps her hair in the same towel and squeezes hard. Her hair only falls just below her chin, so it’s not hard to dry off with a towel alone. Then, she goes back into the living quarters and digs through the pile of clothes the Pirates had found for her. A black bikini as underwear isn’t ideal, but it’s better than nothing. She puts it on and notices the cups are a little too small, which she secretly hopes Vaas will notice, even under the red tank top they’d brought for her.

Somehow, they’d managed to find one small enough that it hugs her form and fits tight. The pants are a pair of baggy, olive cargos, which are only slightly too wide in the waist, but a belt should fix that. And after socks comes the boots, which are multiple sizes too big, but she doesn’t expect these men to have six and a half sized shoes at all, so she’s fine. She laces them up and wraps the excess laces around the outside of the boot around her ankles, and then ties them. They’re clunky to walk around in, but she’s sure she will get used to it.

Finally, there is something she doesn’t exactly know what to do with. A set of bandanas and wraps like Vaas and many of the Pirates wear. They’re red, the wraps are simple coban bandages, but she decides to wear them regardless. She ties one bandana around her neck and tucks it into itself so that it’s more like a choker, and then she ties the other around her bicep. The coban wraps around her wrists and forearms on both arms, which she’d seen on the other men, although she isn’t sure why this is a staple of their fashion sense.

Now that she is finished getting ready, Mari exits her living quarters and walks around, looking for Vaas. She weaves through crowds of Pirates, who don’t even bother looking at her. In fact, it seems they’re actively avoiding looking at her. Perhaps Vaas instructed them even further to not even cast their gaze on her, not just to not touch her or her things. She wants to ask where he’s gone, but something tells her she won’t get a response, so Mari continues walking around the compound.

From the Pirates, she hears various accents, languages, conversation topics, and complaints. Vaas doesn’t seem to discriminate on who he keeps around, yet he keeps claiming that Mari is special. One thing that does set her apart drastically is that she’s the only girl who isn't a stripper or prostitute around here, and maybe that’s why Vaas is so protective over her. Why he refused to kill her outright, leave her standing and Paul dead.

Eventually, Mari finds Vaas, speaking to a circle of other pirates around a table. She peeks over his shoulder and finds that the table is loaded with weapons, from rifles to handguns to knives of all kinds.

Apparently, he senses her presence, and turns around with a big grin and open arms.

“Mariposa! You look just like a Pirate, eh? Well, better than any of the others, for sure. Come, come, come look at what I’ve got for you.”

He gestures at the table, and the other Pirates part away from it. Mari steps up next to Vaas, who throws his arm over her shoulders once again, and he points at different weapons.

“See, I picked out all the best stuff I could find,” he explains. “Shit you’ll need to survive this island, and to do the kind of work we do. I’ve got guns of pretty much every class, see, even distinguishing the magnums from the regular handguns, a flamethrower, bow and arrows…anything you like here, it’s all yours. And if there’s nothing you like, I’ll make someone go find you something else. So, go ahead, look through, see what catches your eye.”

Mari’s hands trace over the selection of weapons, and she’s overwhelmed by the variety that Vaas is presenting her with. One knife sticks out to her, a serrated combat knife, and she takes it in her hands. Her fingers grip the handle and squeeze the material, finding it satisfactory. She does a few small movements with it to test the way it feels, and finds herself loving it. She sets it aside for now, knowing it’s a contender for a keeper.

“Ahh, you like the big knives, yeah?” Vaas says in awe, his grin widening with each little movement Mari does. “Good choice, good choice. The bigger the better. See, me, I carry this.”

Vaas brandishes a machete, previously held in one of his belt loops, which has all sorts of dried blood and dirt and god knows what else caked onto the blade. Apparently, he notices this, makes a face, and wipes it off on his pants, revealing the shiny metal underneath.

Her eyes widen. “Oh, wow. That’s quite the knife. I’m not sure I could handle all that.”

He waves a hand. “Nah, trust me, you will. Now, look at the guns. I picked out a lot of guns. I don’t know what you like, so I just brought a little of everything.”

Nearly instantly, Mari is attracted to one of the rifles. A sniper rifle, to be exact– the Dragunov SVD. She’d used these, as well as the civilian alternative, on some of her trips with Paul. Such a high caliber, military grade gun wasn’t entirely necessary just for hunting, but some of the trips provided them, and who was she to say no to such a weapon?

“I’ve always liked these,” Mari says as she picks up the rifle, holding it left-handed, pointing at the ground, finger aside from the trigger.

“So, the SVD?” He asks. “You like rifles, I take it?”

Mari nods and smiles. “Yeah. I’m actually pretty good at hunting with them. I…don’t like to talk about my past life anymore, but on some of the trips I used to go on to cull invasive species, I was a hell of a shot.”

Vaas lights up with an even wider smile than before. “You’re good at hunting?! Oh, this is perfect, this is perfect…” He begins to pace as he repeats the phrase.

“What’s perfect?” Mari asks.

Throwing out his arms in a grand gesture, Vaas replies, “You! You can hunt! I want you to show me, okay? Will you show me how good you are at hunting, Mariposa? I know a vantage point where there are some tough animals to hit, but I know you can hit them! You can hit them, right? You’ll show me, right?”

She shrugs. “Why not? I’ll do it. Take me to this vantage point and I’ll show you.”

Vaas does a quick turn and points at her. “Yes! Okay, it’s kind of far away, but we can get there by Jeep. I’ll get someone to drive us.”

He turns to face the Pirates who have congregated several feet away from the other two. “Hey! One of you get over here and drive us to the vantage point!”

The Pirates just look at each other, waiting on one to volunteer himself to drive Vaas and Mari. As Vaas grows increasingly impatient, evident by the look on his face and his hands twitching, one man finally steps up.

“I’ll do it,” he says with defeat, walking up and bypassing Vaas and Mari to go to the nearby Jeep. “Come on.”

Vaas walks up behind him and grabs him by the back of the shirt, pulling him to his level.

“You don’t tell me to “come on,” okay? Remember who's in charge here, yeah?” He scolds him like a child, remarkably restrained.

“I won’t do it again,” the Pirate says in response, stumbling as Vaas pushes him forward.

He gestures to Mari to follow, and she does, carrying the rifle as if she’s on patrol. Then, he opens the door to the Jeep and allows her into the backseat, while he sits in the front to keep an eye on the driver. He also pulls out a handgun and checks that it’s loaded.

“What’s that for?” Mari asks. “You’re going to take out animals with a pistol?”

Vaas shakes his head. “Nope. We have enemies around here, and sometimes we cross paths on the road. I’m just being prepared, Mariposa. I think ahead, that’s why they never get me.”

Mari shifts in her seat. “Enemies? What do you mean by that?”

Head in his hand, he groans. “The fucking Rakyat, Mariposa. Groups of so-called “liberators,” so-called “warriors,” who think that they are better than us. I know, I know, I used to be one of them, but see, I made my own way. And they don't like that, my fucking bitch of a sister didn't like it when I stopped killing for her, and she's their fucking leader! She says this is their island, but we are natives, too! We get our piece! Fuck!”

Her eyes look over him. He seems genuinely distressed. “Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, then don't. Calmáte, Vaas.”

With a sharp exhale and inhale, Vaas nods. “You're right. I don't need to think about them, because they are nothing to me. They're target practice, that's all they are. They can't beat me. They fucking can't…”

“You're right,” Mari says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “they can't beat you. We can talk about it later if you want to, okay?”

Vaas sniffles and nods again. “Yeah, yeah. I'll tell you more later. The vantage point, that's what we need to focus on now. You need to show me your skills. I can't believe I almost forgot.” He says the last part with a laugh.

The other Pirate continues to drive Vaas and Mari across the island, and they sit in the backseat staring at each other like lovestruck idiots. Mari is so charmed, so utterly taken by Vaas that she can hardly stand it. Maybe she's stupid and naive for it, but she doesn't care. He obviously has good intentions, otherwise she would've ended up dead or one of those girls only existing in the compound to bring the Pirates pleasure, right?

Vaas had her dressed in Pirate clothing. He gave her a home promised to someone special. His idea upon sparing her life was to recruit her. She was more than just some girl to him, clearly. And the way he's staring back at her, just as infatuated as she is, essentially confirms it.

His eyes don't leave her, and to most, that would be unnerving. But not to Mari. He's not staring at her in a scary way, not at all. He's studying her. Admiring her. Taking in every detail, like he's looking at a piece of art. That's how Vaas is staring at her. He has a placid smile on his face, tilting his head, eyes soft. It's the least threatening he's likely ever looked in his life.

“We're here, boss,” the Pirate says as he stops the Jeep, subsequently stopping their weird little moment.

Vaas visibly shakes his head and claps his hands together. “Yes! Okay! Come, come, follow me. I'll show you the vantage point, Mari.”

He hops out of the vehicle and leaves the door open, motioning for her to follow. Mari slides out of the Jeep and slings her rifle back over her shoulders into her arms, and follows Vaas and the other Pirate to the  vantage point.

There's a makeshift little sniper's nest, made of wood and sheets of scrap metal. But the hill it is atop of does make for a nice spot to look down into the jungle. Even without her rifle's scope, Mari can spot a few different animals in the brush.

“Okay, okay,” Vaas says excitedly, but under his breath, “I want to see your skills, Mariposa. Look, look.”

He points forward, so Mari sets up her rifle and positions herself on the ground. She adjusts the scope, then looks through as Vaas has asked. What he is pointing at is a rather large bird with a long neck and huge claws on its feet.

“A cassowary,” Mari responds quietly. “If it comes at us, that's not gonna go well.”

“So kill it,” Vaas says with a shrug. “Don't give it the chance. Get it while you're ahead, Mariposa. Come on, do it.”

Mari raises her eyebrows at him. “Are we killing it for its meat, its parts? What are we doing?”

“Every part,” Vaas says. “We keep everything. Use everything. The leather is valuable here, too.”

She squints at him. “Cassowary leather? That's a thing?”

Vaas nods. “Yeah. And we'll have it once you kill that thing. But I want to make it a challenge, okay? Is that okay with you?”

Mari shrugs. “Sure.”

“Good,” he says with a smile, then raises his pistol in the air and fires off three shots.

In response to the gunshots, the bird darts off down the path, faster than almost all other birds– hell, even mammals– would run. Vaas quickly crouches next to Mari and waits for her to take out the cassowary, which she does after allowing it to run a bit so that she can track it. Soon follows another gunshot, this time hers, as she gets a clean shot on the animal and it falls to the ground, dead.

“Damn!” Vaas exclaims, a bit too loud for her taste in the case of hunting. “You know how fast those things run? It was a fucking blur and you got it! You fucking got it!”

“There's another,” Mari says, not moving from her position, and she fires a second shot, dropping the other cassowary as it darts in another direction.

Vaas is mesmerized by her quick work of the cassowaries. He's even more impressed when she takes out the hog that comes to investigate the corpses, hitting it once while it's still and killing it with the second shot as it tries to run off.

“Woo!” Vaas cheers, throwing his hands in the air. “Okay, okay, you've proven you can shoot an animal, and a cassowary of all fucking things! Goddamn! That was clean, very clean! The way you just…” He imitates a gunshot with both his voice and his hand, then laughs.

“You,” he says to the other Pirate, who has been standing behind them, “go get those carcasses.”

“All three?!” The Pirate replies in shock. “You joking?! One cassowary’s enough for two men!”

Vaas stands up slowly, then walks towards the other Pirate, and gets directly in his face.

“You telling me you aren't going to do it?” Vaas asks, calm and level, though clearly angry given the glint in his eyes.

The Pirate looks at him in disbelief. “I mean…I can if I bring in a few more guys…”

For a moment, Vaas just stares at him. Then he smiles and shrugs.

“Okay! Call some more of the guys. But make sure all three of those animals get back to the compound, yeah?”

“Got it,” the Pirate says, walking off to radio a few others to help him carry their bounty home.

Vaas shouts after him, “And make sure to get started on that leather!! Don't waste anything!!”

Standing up and putting the safety on her gun, Mari walks over to Vaas and looks up at him for further instruction. She doesn't even have to ask– he can tell by her expression that she's wondering what's next.

He smiles at her, hands on his hips. “You want to know what we're gonna do now, yeah? I have an idea. Now, you probably won’t like the idea at first, no, not at first, it's nothing you've done before. Well, you've done it once. So maybe you'll be okay with it. You want to know what it is?”

Mari has no idea what he could possibly be thinking of. Something she's done once? “I…yeah. Sure. Tell me.”

Tilting his head, Vaas smirks. “Would it not be easier just to show you? Come with me. C'mon, come, come.”

Walking back towards the Jeep, Vaas is gesturing for Mari to follow him, so she does. Since the other Pirate has been preoccupied with the exploits of Mari's hunt, Vaas takes his place in the driver's seat, and pats the passenger seat. Mari slides into it, laying her rifle across her lap, and Vaas starts the vehicle and begins driving off.

“You know how I told you about the Rakyat?” Vaas asks as they drive.

Mari nods. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You have to know, like I said, they're my enemies. Our enemies. And I figure where you come from, well, you probably don't have enemies like this. Enemies who are a real threat. Well, I mean, they think they're a threat to us. They have their own weapons, is what I'm trying to say. And what do you do when your enemy has a weapon?”

She scrunches up her eyebrows. “I'm gonna have to go with, “fight them with your weapons,” right? You want me to take out your enemies?”

Vaas grins and points at her. “Yes! That! I want you to show me just how good you are at what you do, on a target I really, really want dead. Now, if it was up to me, it'd be Citra that you'd ice, but no, no, no, she's too heavily guarded. No. So instead, we'll find a Rakyat camp that they took from the Pirates, and you'll show me some exploding heads. Sound good?”

Not wanting to defy him, yet not totally sold on the idea, Mari looks upwards in thought. “I dunno, I mean, I've only killed animals, and a human at close range, so would I be good to take out multiple human targets like this? What if I can't do it? What if they kill me first?”

A bark of laughter from Vaas follows her questions. “Mariposa, you kidding me? You shot those two cassowaries in succession like your gun was fully automatic! Bang bang! And as for the Rakyat, well, they won't put a scratch on you. They talk big, but when it comes to shooting, they couldn't hit you if they tried.”

Mari nods in thought, tapping her nails against the rifle in her lap. She weighs the morality of the situation in her mind– kill these random people, an act she cannot come back from, and remain safe with Vaas, or don't kill these people, the morally correct decision, and lose Vaas's trust. His care. His safety. Perhaps her own life.

It's an easy decision.

“Alright,” Mari says on the edge of a deep exhale, planting her palms firm against the rifle’s stock, “Your wish is my command. Where do we find these guys?”

Letting go of the steering wheel momentarily to pump his fists, Vaas exclaims, “Yes! Okay, so, the first camp I want to hit is just up ahead. Just a little further, my Mariposa.”

The jeep hits a bump and swerves when Vaas has his little victory moment, startling Mari, but she still smiles and laughs nervously, despite her hands bracing hard against the rifle, and her thighs bracing the seat of the vehicle. The rest of the ride is smooth, as Vaas sings along to the song on the radio– “Noko” by Molotov.

“Y-you like Molotov?” Mari asks, trying to make conversation.

Vaas nods and smiles. “I love ‘em! You like them, too, eh?”

Mari responds with a nod. “My favorite band, actually. This is my favorite song, too.”

His smile widens, and he clicks his tongue. “And she has good taste in music, too? Man, am I the best at choosing new recruits! Well, you are more than just a regular recruit, of course, but you get it. You get it.”

Before Mari can even react– though her reaction would be a laugh– the Jeep screeches to a halt as Vaas hits the brakes just off the road, in the trees. He shuts off the vehicle and pockets the keys, hops out of the car, and whistles to Mari as he motions her with a nod of the head.

“¡Oye! This way, Mariposa!” He calls, walking up a hill.

Mari quickly scrambles out of the Jeep with her rifle in hand and rushes up the hill where Vaas is. Soon, he stops them both, crouching in the grass and putting an arm out in front of Mari. She crouches beside him and looks ahead through her scope, following Vaas as he does the same with his binoculars.

“See that little nest up there? My men, they built it. To keep watch over the camp. Of course those little bastards still use it, they aren't completely stupid. So, anway, see it?”

She nods, adjusting her scope to zoom further. “Yeah. There's a guy there. Want me to take him out?” Mari's heartbeat quickens at the idea of Vaas saying yes to her question.

Vaas shakes a finger at her. “No, no, no, no. You don't have a silencer. It'll give you away before you can even get settled in up there. No, I'm going to show you something, okay? Now stay completely quiet, not a sound, okay? Follow me, and stay down.”

Mari obeys Vaas's command and crouches alongside him, and the two inch closer and closer to the man in the sniper's nest. He's focused with his own gun, aiming at the road to watch from a distance. As they near him, Vaas puts a finger to his lips to indicate silence, then pulls his machete from the loop on his pants.

In one swift motion, Vaas rushes up behind the Rakyat man and covers his mouth with one hand, and plunges his blade deep into the man's chest and throat, multiple times, smiling open-mouthed as he does so. All that comes from the Rakyat man is the gurgling of blood in his throat as he breathes his last agonal breaths, and his body collapses in Vaas's arms. Vaas gently slumps the corpse against the side of the sniper's nest, takes his rifle, and examines it.

Mari can't quite understand her feelings towards what she witnessed. Rationally, she should be horrified at how brutally Vaas had taken this man's life, how easily it came to him to push a knife through his flesh and bone, how he smiled with sick glee as bright, arterial blood sprayed onto his own body, his own face, his own teeth.

But no. On the contrary, Mari is not horrified at all, and instead feels a pang of arousal at the act. Her pulse speeds up, and her mind is clouded with a haze of lust. She briefly imagines Vaas pinning her to the ground, his hands firm around her wrists, his body pressed into hers tightly, his mouth exploring hers. The blood on his clothes smears all over her, and the blood on his teeth give the kisses a metallic taste. But in her imagination, there is more blood. Like he has killed more people, and their blood now paints Vaas red and makes his skin and clothes sticky…

“Mariposa! Hey, Mari!”

Vaas snaps her out of her fantasy, quite literally, as he snaps his fingers in front of her face. She blinks thrice and shakes her head, feeling blush burn under the skin of her cheeks.

“S-sorry. That was…impressive,” she tells Vaas, vastly understating her feelings.

At first, he's confused, but then he notices the tinge of red on her face, the sparkle in her eye, the fluttering of her butterfly eyelashes. His lips curl into a smirk and he wipes his machete on his thigh, smearing his pants with more blood, then once more storing it away using a loop on his pants.

“You found it…impressive, huh?” Vaas asks playfully. “You look really, really impressed, Mari. Really impressed.”

She nods and swallows hard. “Y-yeah…never seen anything like it. You, um, you're so…”

Vaas tilts his head and continues to smile. “I'm so what, Mariposa?”

What does she want to say? Hot. Sexy. Violent. Aggressive. Attractive. All of these things. But she can't let him know, not so early into their knowing each other. She's embarrassed at the thought. But judging by Vaas's look and attitude, he already knows how she feels.

“Skilled.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Skilled?”

“Skilled. You are so skilled with that knife, Vaas. You really, uh, knew what you were doing.”

Vaas narrows his eyes, watching Mari closely, trying to squeeze what she really wants to say out of her. But even under his intense gaze, Mari stays strong, simply looking back at him as she kneels across from him, obediently. He notes that she is a strong one, mentally and physically. Not breaking under his stare shows this.

“Well, thank you, Mari!” He finally says cheerfully, with a clap of his hands. “Okay. Now that parasite is gone, it's time to clear out the rest. You know what to do, get in position.”

When he uses wording like that, Mari suppresses a shiver, and crawls to the spot she'd like to sit at. She prepares her rifle, looking through the scope at the people walking around the camp. All of them are armed, which somewhat worries her, and Vaas senses this worry. He places a reassuring hand on her right shoulder– the free one– and rubs a thumb across it, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Hey, you got this,” Vaas says softly, calmly. “I'll be covering you just in case, but they won't get the chance to hurt you.”

Mari nods, gives a shuddering sigh, then steadies her breathing.“Yeah. Thank you, Vaas.”

Aiming at the camp below, Mari scans the place to locate each target. There are five men, each carrying the same model of assault rifle. Other than pacing about and chatting, none of these men do anything that would make picking them off too problematic, so Mari waits for them to spread out from each other so that they don't immediately notice when she inevitably drops the first one.

Next to her, Vaas is also prone and armed with the rifle belonging to the corpse, doing his own scan and preparing to cover if needed. He won't shoot unless they hit her, she knows this, so she tries not to pay attention to Vaas at all. Though it is difficult, considering how much more attractive he's become to her in the last few minutes.

“I count five,” Mari says quietly, sights trained on one man fairly isolated from the others.

“Me too,” Vaas replies. “Five little ways to impress me, Mariposa.”

Although her heart rate increases at his words, Mari remains still, and her breath catches in her chest purposefully, so that she can be as still as possible. Her sights follow the subtle movements of her target, and as he finally holds still, Mari squeezes the trigger of her Dragunov SVD, and the result is the complete obliteration of the man's head, leaving an unrecognizable face and a massive hole in the back, the contents inside splattered on the building he hides behind.

Vaas wants to cheer, smiling as he watches the man's skull explode, his blood and brain matter coating the wall. The other men begin to scramble– some are at the ready with their own guns, some go to search for the one who was shot.

Mari wastes no time tracking a man who runs towards the now deceased target she's just downed, and even as he rushes beyond the wall of the building he thinks is shelter, another of Mari's shots rings out and another of the Rakyat’s skulls bursts open, releasing more brain matter and red mist. The next man she shoots misses his head, though it pierces his neck, instantly severing his cervical spine and vital arteries and veins.

“Ooh, that was a fun one!” Vaas cheers, still quiet. “Through the neck!”

Ignoring him, Mari focuses on her next target, one of three men now running towards the vantage point. They all three start shooting wildly at the general area, though their spray-and-pray method gets them nowhere. Mari shoots another in the head, and the remaining two hide behind the trunks of trees. After waiting for one to pop his head out, Mari takes out one more, and there's only a single Rakyat remaining from that camp.

Somehow, in the insane way he is shooting, the man manages to hit Vaas in the bicep, tearing through his muscle and skin in one clean slice. Mari's focus shifts from her rifle to him, and she goes to let go of the gun, but Vaas simply pushes her back.

“No, no, I'm okay,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You really thought you did something, eh, motherfucker?!” Mari screams at the Rakyat, waiting for the man to move.

When he does, she shoots him not in the head, not center mass, nor the neck– she shoots him in the kneecap, and once more in the hand so that he can't hold his gun. Standing up and slinging her rifle over her shoulder by the strap, Mari ventures down the hill and meets the dying man as he squirms on the ground.

“Wait there,” Mari calls to Vaas, and he listens, though he peeks over the edge of the sniper's nest to watch her.

The soles of Mari's oversized combat boots are the first thing the dying Rakyat man sees when she approaches him. A mangled hand reaches for the handgun in the waistband of his pants, but Mari's boot crushes it before it even reaches his hip. Bones crunching and his screaming echo in the jungle as she does so. After watching him writhe for a moment, Mari pulls the knife she'd taken earlier from her pocket, kneels at the man's side, and holds the tip to the underside of his chin.

“Apologize.”

Her voice is firm, demanding– even Vaas finds it unexpected.

“Fuck you,” the man replies, spitting up blood as he speaks.

Mari traces the knife's tip down his throat, slicing inside the skin ever so slightly, leaving only a superficial laceration behind. The man groans and continues to squirm.

“I said,” Mari repeats, tapping her nails against the knife's grip, “apologize. And make it quick.”

Showing no signs of doing as Mari asks, the man simply lays there and groans. The tip of the knife sinks further into his throat, a layer deeper, and Mari slowly begins to drag it downwards.

“Okay, okay!” The man cries, thrashing his head, “I'm fucking sorry! Now stop!”

“I never said I'd stop,” Mari replies, finally jamming the knife fully into the man's neck, once into the carotid, once into the trachea.

His death is ultimately easy and quiet– a small agonal breath manages to get past the blood filling his respiratory tract, but otherwise, he goes quietly. Mari wordlessly, though with great effort, drags the man into the middle of the road. She rearranges his limbs, posing him like Christ on the cross, and leaves him there.

An example for the others.

Vaas watches all of this in pure awe, pure admiration. His little Mariposa really did that in retaliation to the man that shot him? Oh, it fills his heart with joy. As soon as she motions for him to join her at the camp, Vaas jumps up and rushes down to her. His hand holds the bleeding wound on his arm, and Mari only presses it harder when they make contact.

“Do you guys keep first aid kits around here?” Mari asks, her voice tight with concern.

“I mean, yeah, but Mari, it's…” Vaas begins to tell her that it’s only a minor wound– which it is– but stops himself, because what better way to get closer with her than by allowing her to perform first aid? To touch him?

“It's what?” She asks with a huff, digging around the safehouse.

Vaas shakes his head. “No, no, it's nothing. We usually kept first aid kits in the crates by the arsenals, but they may have changed it.”

Mari opens up the crate Vaas mentioned and produces a fully stocked, untouched first aid box. “Yes! Here, sit down on the bed.”

Never going to say no to such a request, Vaas sits down on the edge of the safe house bed, and Mari soon joins him. She opens up the first aid box and snaps on a pair of nitrile gloves inside it, then gently pries Vaas’s hand away from the wound.

“It's not too bad,” she sighs with relief. “Okay, I'm going to sanitize it. It'll sting. You ready?”

Vaas nods. “You're the expert. Do what you gotta do.”

She smiles at him as she unwraps an alcohol wipe, then swipes it over his wound. Vaas hisses through his teeth, feeling that sting that Mari had mentioned, but he forgets about the pain as he watches Mari get to work. She firmly presses a gauze pad against the wound.

“Hold that for a second,” she instructs as she digs into the first aid kit. “Coban, coban…where is it…”

Vaas cocks his head. “Coban? The fuck is that?”

Mari sighs with frustration. “A wrapping bandage. Like what we have on our hands. Do you have more of it?”

He nods. “Sure, sure, there should be some in there. I stole what we have from a first aid kit. It should be in there somewhere.”

After a bit more digging, Mari finally finds a roll of coban in the first aid box, though there's hardly any left. Luckily, there is enough to wrap around Vaas's bicep a couple of times, and she's finally dressed the wound. Upon finishing, her eyes look to Vaas for approval.

“Thank you, Mari,” he says softly, shocking her by using her real name rather than the nickname he's given her.

She nods and smiles. “Of course. I'm a medic, this is what I do. Especially for you.”

Vaas smirks and looks her up and down before settling on looking her in the eyes. A feeling of warmth settles in the pit of Mari's chest, enveloping her heart, a suffocating feeling. Instinctively, her eyelashes flutter with each rapid blink, and she thinks about looking away from Vaas, yet she can't.

“You tortured the man who did this. And you tortured him for me, didn't you?” Vaas asks, his voice still eerily calm and quiet.

Mari nods and takes a shuddering breath. “I did, yes. I couldn’t control myself, Vaas, I–”

“None of my other Pirates would have done that for me,” Vaas interrupts her, a bandaged finger pressing against her lips to shush her. “They wouldn't have healed me like this, either. No, no, they wouldn't be so gentle and careful. But you did.”

She blinks thrice, then meekly says, “And what do you think about it?”

His eyes still scan her face, a smile settling on his lips. “I like it. No, no, no, no…I love it. I love it, Mariposa. My loyal, sweet little Mariposa.”

Like her lashes, like her namesake, Mari’s heart flutters when he speaks, when his finger brushes over her mouth. Each word fuels the heat in her chest, and makes her feel faint. Vaas seems to sense this, and pushes a bit further by moving his hand to cup her jaw.

Unsure of what Vaas's next move is, Mari simply sits still, allowing him to do as he pleases, touching her face with hands caked in dried blood, the scent of it still strong. It's almost intoxicating, and not just for Mari. Vaas, too, finds himself covered in blood to be a source of excitement. He always has. Mari's beauty and devotion to him only further this excitement.

His grip on her jaw tightens, and he slowly moves his face towards hers. Vaas brushes his nose across Mari’s, making her bat her eyelashes until her eyes close completely.

“Do you want me?” Vaas asks Mari, his voice nearly inaudible, his lips barely passing over hers as he speaks.

Mari shudders, the sensation from his nose and lips touching her own sending a shiver through her spine. Wordlessly, she nods, accepting his offer. Then, just as quietly as he'd just spoken, she replies,

“Please.”

Following her one-word answer, Vaas practically crashes his face against Mari's and kisses her deeply, wasting no time in making the act intimate. Mari happily accepts his aggressive advances and allows him to run his tongue along every part of her mouth. Both breathe heavily between short breaks, in which their noses rest against one another, before going back for more.

Soon, Vaas's hands move from her face, down her neck, and to her chest, and he unexpectedly pushes her down against the bed, pinning her under him. Mari yelps when he does this, but only in surprise– she actually enjoys it, and, unbeknownst to him, has been fantasizing about him doing so ever since she watched him kill that man earlier. His hands take place at either side of her head and hers run along his back, gripping the fabric of his shirt when he gets a bit rough, like when he sinks his teeth into her bottom lip.

Though Mari has every intention to let Vaas do as he pleases with her, she wants to ask him to move those bites to another place– her neck. Mari's most sensitive, erogenous spot on her body is her neck, and she wants nothing more than for Vaas to take off her bandana and go at her neck like a starving vampire, drawing blood and all.

Perceptive, Vaas can see this desire just by the way Mari behaves, arching her neck so that it becomes more accessible. The fingers of one hand move to undo her red bandana and toss it aside, and then he moves his face to press into her neck. His nose rests directly where he can feel a rapid pulse in her carotid artery, and his facial hair scratches against the sensitive skin.

Even just his lips and facial hair brushing over her neck makes Mari arch her back and bunch up the fabric of his shirt in her hands. He smiles at this, and gives a few soft kisses before opening his mouth and biting into her neck.

Mari squirms even more, letting out a small moan and squeezing his torso against hers harder than before. She contemplates wrapping her legs around his waist, but restrains herself for now.

“...harder…” Mari says softly, reaching to the back of Vaas's head to keep him where she wants him.

Vaas gives a small, somewhat arrogant laugh at her request. “Harder, eh? You like it rough, Mariposa?”

Before she can even respond, Vaas bites down even harder, pulling on her skin with his teeth before letting go. This time, it draws a long, sensual iteration of his name from Mari's lips, and she forgoes all restraint and squeezes his waist tight between her thighs.

He laughs again. “Ooh, you really do like it rough! I like to play rough, too. Isn't that a fun coincidence, Mari? I'm so glad you stayed here with me, you're so perfect.”

What Vaas says to her lights Mari's body on fire. Her head feels like it could burst into flames, sweat is beading at her hairline beneath her bangs. And while she appreciates his sweet words, his admission that he's glad she stayed and calling her perfect, Mari wants more of the sensations he's been providing on her neck.

“Keep going…” Mari begs, gently dragging her fingers across Vaas's scalp, feeling the barely-there, shaved down hair that isn't part of his mohawk.

“Don't tell me what to do,” he responds playfully, yet still answers her request with yet another harsh bite, this time on the meat between her shoulder and neck.

“Oh, Vaas!” She cries his name, tossing her head back. “Fuck me!”

Although he's well aware she doesn't mean it in the literal sense– or maybe she does– Vaas still decides to continue his playful attitude and pulls back from her neck to look down at her, directly in the eyes.

“Mariposa, I am all for that. You want me bad, don't you?” He looks at her with a mocking expression.

Mari's eyes once more behave like butterflies, and her face lights up a shade near the bandana discarded at her side.

“I-I didn't mean it literally! I was just–” she stammers.

Vaas shushes her with a fingertip to the lips. “Shh, shh, I know what you meant. But I also know you want me to fuck you, like, literally fuck you.”

She pouts. “How do you even know that? I never even said so!”

“You're easy to read, Mariposa,” he replies with a smirk, sitting back up and running his hands over her sides. “From the moment we met, when I was ready to kill your boyfriend, I could tell you were sick of that mediocre white boy's dick, am I right? Of course I'm right. You looked at me like I am a fucking god, your savior from that pathetic little man, I could feel you wanting me from just being near you.”

Her expression turns into more of an angry one in place of the playful annoyance before. “So you really did keep me around just to fuck me, eh?”

Vaas shakes his head. “Oh, no, no, no, no. I kept you around because you're an asset to the crew. You being the most fuckable person I've ever met is just a bonus.”

When he uses this wording, Mari's heart flips in her chest. “Wait, you think I'm…”

“Yes, fucking god yes!” Vaas practically yells, his voice rough. She can also now feel…him against her thigh. “Look, Mariposa, I like you as a person, okay? But I also really, really want to fuck you. And I know you want it, too, so can we just get on with it? I'm going kind of crazy over here, Mari.”

At his words, at his irritated, desperate tone, Mari shivers. She then nods, and says very seriously, “Then, like I said, fuck me.”

Laughing in satisfaction, Vaas begins to frantically undo both Mari's pants and belt as well as his own. He curses at the buckle on one of the belts for not coming undone as easily as he'd like it, and just before he can pull down his pants all the way, his radio begins chirping.

“Fuck!” He snaps, punching the table the radio sits on. He wants to break the thing into a billion bits of plastic.

“What the fuck do you want?!” He asks the person on the other end. “I'm fucking busy!”

“One of Hoyt’s men shot one of ours. Point blank, in the chest. All over a kilo he didn't have the right to take from us.” It's a Pirate on the other end.

Vaas is conflicted. He doesn't know whether to dignify this incident with a response, or to toss the radio aside and continue with Mari. On one hand, he’s dying to make her his, but on the other, the situation does need to be addressed.

“Well, I'm busy right now,” Vaas replies. “I'll deal with it when I get back. Just go bury him or something.”

“We need you back right now, boss. We need to plan how to deal with this.”

Growling in annoyance, Vaas looks back and forth from the radio to Mari. She looks disappointed that he's stopped what he's doing with her, but at the same time, she knows Vaas's business is important.

“You know what?” Vaas finally says, crawling back over to the bed and climbing on top of Mari, “Hoyt can wait. I've got more important things to worry about.”

…