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Welcome to the Fallout Kink Meme, Part IV! Please assume the position.

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From: (Anonymous)

Vulpes sneezed as the Securitron kicked up dust embedded in the carpeting. The interior of the casino was poorly lit, his eyes taking longer to adjust than usual from the harsh Mojave sun. What came into focus was like a photograph, perfectly preserved from the moment the bombs fell. Even the dust motes in the air seemed to be suspended in time. Apparently the few people who passed through here weren't enough to disturb much of it.

The Presidential Suite was much better, having been properly lived in in the past two centuries. But somehow the lights looked even dimmer, leaving a rather dreary feeling to the floor. He was pushed out of the elevator, and the Securitron took its place next to the doors. "She's in the room straight ahead!" the Securitron gave him a rough nudge, sending him staggering forwards a few steps.

He turned the doorknob and took a step into the room. It was clearly the Courier's private bedroom. Her gear was scattered across the floor, part way through being put away, and a single bed sat in the middle of the room. The Courier was sprawled out on it, clad in only her shorts and undershirt, reading a book. She promptly dropped it on her face when she heard him enter.

This was the conqueror of the Mojave.

Alexandria. At least, that was the name she had used to introduce herself to Caesar. Most referred to her as Courier Six, though some of her closer allies used a diminutive form of her name, Alexia seeming to be her preferred one. Vulpes assumed he didn't have permission to refer to her so casually.

Alexia scrambled off her bed, sifting through a large pile of armor sitting just outside the wardrobe one would assume it belonged in. "Couldn't have warned me, Yes Man?" she shouted past Vulpes. He stood there watching as she finally pulled out a sort of dark colored jumpsuit with a lighter colored chest plate attached. She stepped into it and pulled the sleeves onto her arms, only to struggle to reach the zipper in the back. Her face turned red as she turned to finally address Vulpes. "Could you... If you, uh, don't mind...?"

She turned her back to him. It was the perfect opening, even unarmed. The clicks and whirs of the Securitron just feet outside the door gave him pause, however. Vulpes zipped up the back of her suit, chuckling as she snatched the zipper as soon as it was within her reach. It didn't seem like she planned on killing him, so he'd have many more chances at freedom.

"So, how was your flight here?" she asked. Vulpes imagined it was the sort of question that wouldn't have sounded so strange two centuries ago.

"I... Would not like to repeat it."

The Courier laughed. "Did you get airsick? Ooh, or, are you scared of heights?" She taunted him as if she had ever flown in a Vertibird.

He crossed his arms, at least a bit annoyed. "You didn't have me brought here just to laugh at me, did you? Now, rubbing your victory in my face I can see."

Alexia grinned at him. "Of course, just one thing first. Get out of that stupid jumpsuit." She turned and rummaged through unorganized piles of clothing, tossing him a bundle of fabric that might have been a shade of red at one point in time. With her back still to him, he pulled off the disguise and pulled the new rags on over his head. Used to his Legion armor, it didn't cross his mind that she hadn't given him pants. He did notice that it had a slightly different fit than the tunic he was used to wearing, and wondered why she hadn't given him one of those. She clearly had a small collection of Legion armor she could take one from.

She returned and put something over his head, fabric falling down onto his front. He looked down at the off-white material. It was good quality canvas, but broken in and no longer stiff. Realization slowly set in when she moved behind him to tie the back of the apron closed.

Alexandria moved back in front of him and took a step back, admiring her handiwork.

"Pre-war housewife is a good look on you, Vulpes. Ready to get to work?"