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"It was in my pocket, I swear! I had the receipt just a minute ago..."
The Courier was on her knees in the dirt, the sniper standing over her, cold fury in his eyes. She couldn't really blame him- from his perspective, she had just tricked him into murdering an innocent old woman under the pretense of revenge. If she only had the proof, if only her pockets weren't loose and the night wind wasn't strong, if only she could find where that slip of paper had blown- if only she could save herself from the man with the sniper rifle.
She looked up at Boone, her eyes wide and her body trembling. He had his gun pointed at her head, his finger on the trigger. He'd already killed once for revenge that night; the way things were looking, there'd be two bodies lying beneath the tower by sunrise.
"Do it to me, then. Quick."
She told herself he wouldn't hurt her if she looked innocent and pathetic. The Courier looked up at him, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Any moment now, he'd have to walk away- he'd surely see she was innocent. Wouldn't he?
"You lying whore..." The growl in Boone's voice was even more pronounced now than ever, and he swung the gun to the side as he freed his left hand. He grabbed the Courier by the hair, twisting it hard.
If only Boone could see himself, maybe he would have stopped. With the Courier on her knees in tears, and him grabbing her with one hand and wielding a gun with the other, it would have looked like she was being assaulted. Seeing that would surely have stopped him.
Or maybe it wouldn't. In which case, maybe there was still one card she had left to play.
Still struggling, the Courier took one hand and ripped off the top button from her blouse. She breathed deeply, making her chest heave. She pursed her lips and gazed up at him.
"I said, do it to me."
Boone was silent, but still held on to her. She could hear his heavy breathing in the still of the night, and despite the darkness, being held up to Boone's waist meant she could see she'd managed to...arouse some interest.
"What do you think I am?" Boone hissed at her.
"I think you want to hurt me. If I lied to you, you might at least get some pleasure out of it. And if I'm innocent- well, I can't say whether killing me or fucking me at gunpoint would sit easier on your conscience, but I know which I'd prefer."
The Courier ran a hand up Boone's leg. His grip on her had loosened, but wasn't gone entirely. She reached for his belt buckle, and when he didn't stop her, she began to undo his belt and then his fly. He was definitely hard; maybe he liked his girls to beg, or maybe it had been a long time since he last had a woman. Or maybe he just found the Courier attractive- it wouldn't be the first time.
His breathing had gotten even louder, and she could feel his body shaking beneath her hand. She knew his type- good soldiers, used to taking lives but squeamish about hurting women, even if the women let them. Her hand stroked the bulge in his underwear, and he jerked away; maybe she'd gone too far.
Well, once you've gone too far, you might as well keep going.
"Afraid, baby?" she asked. "Afraid of taking advantage? It's too late for that- you've already got me whoring myself out. Just go through with it, and spare us both the schoolboy act."
At that, he slammed the Courier to the ground. He was on top of her before she could regain her breath, his gun having fallen to the side. She tried to speak, and he clamped a hand down on her mouth.
"Shut up!"
She'd won. He'd fuck her, and there was no way he'd bring himself to kill her afterwards. All she had to do was lie back and think of- well, if she were honest, think of how much she'd wanted his cock since he first handed her that beret. It shouldn't have been like this, but this was better than nothing, and certainly better than death.
Boone's strong hands ripped open the rest of her shirt, and she didn't try to struggle. There was only a thin undershirt beneath it, and he had no trouble pulling it off her. His hands squeezed her breasts uncomfortably tightly, feeling them so roughly she was sure she'd have bruises in the morning. Nevertheless, she arched her back and pushed herself into his grip.
He didn't bother removing much of his own clothing. The beret fell off of its own accord, and though his shirt was tight enough that the Courier could see the outlines of his muscles, it stayed on. All he seemed worried about was pulling down his pants and getting access to her as fast as possible. There wasn't going to be much foreplay, just a rough screw on the ground.
Wondering if she could dislodge him now that he'd put down the gun, the Courier pushed up against Boone's grip. No chance- his weight was pinning her to the ground, and she'd never had much upper body strength. In a way, it made the Courier a little excited. It wasn't her fault she was fucking to save her life, not if she couldn't escape. She could feel completely helpless if she wanted to, swept up in the rage and pent-up lust of a mad soldier. The prospect made her smile.
Boone's hands were now pulling at her pants, and she subtly wriggled to let him pull them off faster. They were tossed aside by the sniper rifle, and the cool desert air had only just pricked the skin of her thighs when Boone fell upon her. The Courier moaned in anticipation, and when he entered her she felt her body involuntarily writhe. He held her down, and though she wasn't screaming, she soon found her mouth covered with a brutal kiss.
The Courier pushed herself back against him, enjoying the feel of a futile struggle. His thrusts were quick and almost mechanical in feeling; he clearly wanted to just use her and get over with it. Maybe he really did hate her, or maybe something in him knew it was wrong to take a woman in exchange for her life. Either way, she could tell his lust disgusted him.
The Courier wasn't about to make it any easier on him. She wrapped her legs around his lower back, almost trapping him with her. The Courier enjoyed the violence this provoked in him, the way his kisses turned to bites on her neck and his fingernails dug into her arms. It had been a long time since she'd had a good, rough fuck; men often acted as if she were fragile and could be easily damaged. Sometimes she wanted them to go too far, and tonight she'd be getting what she wanted.
Boone was saying something to her, but he was keeping most of the sound in the back of his throat and she couldn't make out the words. His wife's name, maybe? Hers?
She must have been imagining things, because it almost sounded like he was saying "I'm sorry"...
She hadn't misheard, though. Boone said it again and again as his body rocked. It didn't stop him from fucking her, only adding another layer of desperation to the scene. He wasn't biting her any more, only thrusting madly, as if forcing himself to orgasm.
The Courier felt his body shake, one shudder after another, before he pulled out of her and climaxed. He left her sore and wet, but something in the Courier felt satisfied; if she had to walk funny for the next few days, so be it. With any luck, her sniper friend would let her go now-
"Saw it on the ground. Couldn't stop. You weren't lying."
The Courier looked where he was pointing. The desert wind had blown a slip of paper near the spot where their bodies entwined. She didn't need to look twice to know the paper was a bill of sale.
"I hurt you. If I'd seen it being done, I'd have called it rape. Maybe it was."
The Courier dressed herself, avoiding Boone's eyes.
"I've been hurt worse before. Shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave. I gave you a way to not kill me, and you took it. I can forgive you." Besides which, he'd taken her much closer to orgasm than she'd expected, but the Courier didn't feel it was a good time to mention it.
Boone pulled his pants and beret back on, then picked up his gun. For a moment, the Courier was afraid, but he merely held it pointed at the ground.
"You didn't make me. I shouldn't have- I had no right to. I killed to save Carla from this- you've probably got a man who's gonna hunt me down now."
Again with his sad story; the Courier was less surprised at him talking about it than at the fact that she cared. She knew she ought to leave now, with her life and her possessions. Maybe she felt guilty at his guilt, or wanted to hear the rest of his story. Maybe she hated to leave him waiting for justice that would never come. Maybe she hoped for another tumble late at night, less hateful but just as rough. Whatever the case, she went over to him and spoke as gently as she could.
"No one. No man to avenge me. If you want to set things right with me, though, you could do it. Help me find the man who hurt me worse than you did. If we're in luck you'll get to kill a few Legionaries, too."
Boone just stared silently at the night sky. She wondered if he was considering her offer, or if he'd even heard it at all. Perhaps he was flashing back to whatever he'd once done- best to leave him be in that case. Before long, though, Boone got to his feet. He turned to the Courier, and gave her a nod.
The Courier traveled across the desert, and her gunslinger followed.