Disclaimer: I do not own anything in my stories except for the fan fiction (including plots, OC's and so on). All the characters belong to the rightful owners. Any songs/poems/etc in my stories do not belong to me unless stated otherwise.

Hello again.

Fuck, it's weird posting on fanfiction again. Wow.

Anyway, this is not the time to be reminiscing. This is a new story. I'm terrified of posting it here to be honest, but none the less here it is.

This initial idea came to me when in The Far Cry Experience (during the electricity torture) Vaas asks Chris "Have you even been in love?" and then he says "I've been in love once, or maybe twice." Anyway, yeah. This story however is not a romance story, but there will be hints of it every now and then.

The story takes place years before Far Cry 3!

The Vaas in this story is Vaas BEFORE he learns the definition of insanity, so very much still Vaas but just a little less insane. Saying this because Vaas might seem a little OOC, I know. I know, trust me I know. The reason for this is because Vaas in The Far Cry Experience and Far Cry 3 is so damn brilliant that I don't think I would ever forgive myself if I went to wreck that brilliance.

I didn't know whether to call this the prologue or the first chapter, so I went with the latter.

Anyway, enough of this. I will let you get cracking.

Chapter 1

"Begin at the beginning," the King said, very gravely,

"and go on till you come to the end: then stop."

She leaned her head back and looked out the window of the helicopter. The North Island wasn't far away anymore, and she saw deep green jungle laid out on it that seemed to go on for forever. The air was thick and warm, incredibly humid. She took a deep breath and wondered why she had taken this job again.

Because it pays half a million fucking dollars. Her inner voice reminded her and she wished her mind would shut up for once. It was true though, the money was why. Money was the only reason she did anything anymore.

Soon the helicopter touched down with a slight jolt on the beach, they were at the most southern point of the island as far as she knew. A privateer, who had been called by the name of Hector, sat opposite of her told her to hold out her arms, as soon as she did the man snapped handcuffs onto her.

"Isn't this a bit much?" She turned to the man next to the privateer.

The man, in his fifties with black hair and dead blue eyes, merely smiled at her. It was one of those mocking smiles. She knew that smile as she had seen many of them before. That smile made it clear that he wasn't fond of women unless he was fucking them. That smile made her want to punch it off of his face, but she couldn't. "No. It's not." Hoyt Volker was a powerful ally to have, plus he was going to pay her half a million dollars. "You know what you have to do." Hoyt said right before Hector slid the door open.

Hector climbed out and Hoyt was next. The privateer who was next to her nudged her to move and she got up from the bench. Hector grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her out of the helicopter. The hot sun was blazing down on them, burning her eyes with the brightness. Once her eyes were able to take in the surroundings she noticed two men on the beach, standing near a vehicle.

One in army green cargo pants and a black shirt, a red bandanna was tied around his neck and a huge gun strapped to his back. The other, with dark blue jeans and a red shirt, spotted a mohawk and a nasty looking scar, even from afar, on his head. She recognized him to be Vaas Montenegro, the Pirate King.

Hector stopped her a good fifty metres away from the vehicle, Hoyt kept walking forward while Vaas came forward to meet him.

"Vaas!" Volker said and threw his arms to the side, surprisingly happy to see the scarred man.

"Hoyt. What the..." Vaas spoke. She only caught small bits of the conversation. The random bits of dialogue added up to nothing coherent, but damn the man knew how to swear. However, judging by the way the Pirate King pointed at her and let out a few more swears, she took a shot in the dark to assume that he didn't expect a woman to arrive on his island.

Her wrists strained on the handcuffs, wondering why the fuck was Hoyt pulling this sort of shit. After a few more minutes Volker turned back, Hector let go of her and headed back to the helicopter. The helicopters engine turning on and flooding the beach with noise. Hoyt stopped at where she stood, his blue eyes looking her up and down. "You know what to do." He said and licked his lips. "Don't fuck up." Then he walked off.

"Volker!" She shouted at the man. "You gonna take the handcuffs off or what?"

Hoyt merely turned his torso, smirked at her and waved her goodbye before climbing into the helicopter. She sighed and turned around, with the intention of walking toward the two men, but instead she smacked into a hard, puffed out chest. After a second of wavering on her feet, she caught her footing. Her eyes turned upward and were met with crazed ones. His eyes caught her off guard, not because of the way he was glaring at her, she had gotten that look too many times to be fazed by it, but because of their odd colour. A mix of hazel and light green, with a few golden flecks. They were... pretty.

"Hello." She said and took a step back, putting some space between the two.

"You are Vincent?" Vaas spoke, his voice was smooth with a Spanish accent. She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't that.

"Scarlett Vincent." She said, emphasising her first name. "Vaas Montenegro, I presume?"

Vaas was tallish, 5'10 or 5'11. He was of athletic build, muscular with strong shoulders. Across his torso, over his shirt, were two belt looking things. Black leather combat boots were laced onto his feet. His hands, bearing bandages, wraps and a couple of pieces of jewellery, were cut and dirty. Around his neck was more jewellery; a red string like necklace, a black beaded one and a green rock, which looked like it had been snapped or broken somehow, on a black piece of string. He had a red piece of fabric tied around his left bicep and Scarlett briefly wondered that if he flexed enough would it snap off. His scar, looked even rougher up close. It wasn't clean-cut, hinting at the fact that it was personal. The jagged scar, which ran from his eyebrow to the back of his head, was thicker at the eyebrow and grew thinner the further back you went.

During the time that Scarlett took him in, he was apparently taking her in too. His eyes lingered at her breasts for a moment too long for her comfort. "I was not aware you are, in fucking fact, a woman." The corner of his mouth curled up a little, as if he found the fact amusing.

"Sorry to disappoint." She lifted her, still handcuffed, wrists. "Any chance of Volker giving you the key?"

Vaas laughed, shaking his head and then turned around. "C'mon hermano." He started walking toward the vehicle. "Hermano. Hmm... Hermana?" He eyed her over his shoulder, as if guessing that Scarlett had an opinion on the matter. "I'm going to have to work on that."

When they reach the car, she finally got a good look at the other man. He was taller than Vaas with about the same amount of muscle. He had a beard covering his jaw and a thick mop of dark brown hair on his head. His eyes, matching the hair, were a dark brown. His skin was a medium olive tone, though still a bit darker than Vaas'. He was, handsome to say the least. Then he smiled, which made him about ten times more attractive, because it was one of those big and honest smiles.

It almost made her forget that he was a pirate and most likely Vaas' right hand man. Almost.

"Well hello, miss Vincent." The man said, in thick accented English. He was from somewhere in the Mediterranean perhaps. "I am Carlos."

"Scarlett," She offered a smile back at him.

He opened the car door from the side and motioned for her to climb in. "Get in, Scarlett."

"You don't happen to have anything to cut these fuckers off, eh?" She asked while she was seated in the back. Vaas took the wheel and Carlos climbed into the passenger seat, pulling his assault rifle into his lap.

Carlos shook his head. "Sorry."

Scarlett let out a breath and leaned back. Slightly tugging on the handcuffs, examining them. They were in perfect condition, so her own strength wasn't going to be enough to break them, and they were also on rather tight. She wondered if she got her hands on some oil would she be able to slip her hand out. She didn't happen to have a bobby-pin on hand either. Scarlett was snapped out of her thoughts by Carlos' voice. "What are you here for anyway?"

"How much did Volker tell you?" She questioned, turning her gaze to Vaas, at the same taking note of his strong jaw.

Vaas' eyes were on the road, his right hand on the wheel while his left hung lazily out of the window and down the side of the car. "Your fucking accent, where are you from? Europe?"

Scarlett nodded. "Yes, Europe." She was intent on not giving away anything that wasn't necessary for either of them to know. She said nothing more, looking expectantly at Vaas and waiting for him to answer her initial question.

The scarred man eyed her through the rear view mirror. "He told me you were an assassin." He clicked his tongue. "He said you killed a man, you need a fucking place to hide."

"Oh so you're a killer?" Carlos' eyebrows lifted up. "You don't look like a killer."

Scarlett smirked slightly. "Don't believe everything you see, eh?" She wanted a pair of sunglasses, a bottle of whisky and those fucking handcuffs off of her. "Yes. I killed a man, a very important man. However if I needed a place to hide I wouldn't be here. I need to disappear completely. For a while anyway." The story was half true, she had killed a man. A politician who had influence all over the world, but she didn't need to disappear or even hide. Nobody knew it was her who committed the murder.

Carlos had his torso turned toward the woman sitting in the back seat. "Still not getting the whole killer vibe from you, though." His dark eyes roamed over her face.

The ride was long and no one spoke too much. Vaas and Carlos exchanged a few words in Spanish every now and again. It was fine my Scarlett, she wasn't in much of a talking mood anyway. By the time they got to the docks, her wrists were red, not to mention aching, and her ass was sore. When she looked out the window, she saw a half a dozen pirates loading up a boat with wooden crates. Scarlett was thankful when they got out of the car, as she got to stretch her legs, though she wasn't exactly prepared to the reaction she got.

As if by a magnet, everyone single one of the pirates' eyes were glued to her the moment she got out.

"Hello pretty lady." A man her height with a red bandanna wrapped around his dreadlocks asked her with a chuckle, a wicked smile on his lips. He spoke in a deep, French accented voice. He was now standing next to her and he reached his hand up to stroke her cheek, but she slapped his hand away before it could touch her.

"You sure you wanna do that?" Scarlett asked. She had been warned that these pirates were savages and used to raping every woman in sight, but damn she seriously wasn't expecting anything like this, this fast.

The man chuckled. "Where'd you find this one Vaas? I like her." He tilted his head to the side and licked his lips. "I bet she's a screamer."

"You will not fucking touch her!" Vaas said loudly while walking around the car, drawing all of the eyes to him. "None of you fucks will touch her, alright?" He shouted and looked at every single man. The man with the bandanna winked at Scarlett and then wandered off. "You touch her, you fucking die." He whistled loudly and started to walk toward the boat. "Where the fuck is the old fucker?"

Carlos leaned against the car and lit up a cigarette, Scarlett turned to him. "Mind if I bum one?" Carlos eyed her for a moment and then whipped out the pack. Then he pulled out the lighter and lit it for her. Scarlett leaned onto the car next to him and took a drag of her cigarette, smiling slightly as nicotine once again flowed in her bloodstream.

"Is he always like that?" Scarlett asked motioning to the Pirate King, who was shouting and swearing again. Her wrists were screaming for her to stop moving, but she tried to pay no mind to it.

Carlos smiled. "Stick around and find out."

A truck, practically identical to the one she was leaning against except that it had a roof, pulled into the docks. A man was driving the truck, through Scarlett couldn't see what the driver looked like because of the sun reflecting on the windscreen.

She took another drag from the cigarette and leaned her head back. She slowly blew out the smoke and closed her eyes. It was so fucking hot out. The sound of the car door opening reached her. Then she heard a voice that made her blood run cold, despite the heat, and her heart stop. "Vaas! I got the fucking crates!" The man shouted. Scarlett quickly opened her eyes and whipped her head toward the newly arrived vehicle.

The voice was thick, deep and raspy from years of smoking cigars. The English man who owned the voice was close to 60 years of age, 6'5 tall and muscular as a bear. His head was covered by a mop of blond and grey hair. His name was Gareth Kidd... and he was dead.

Scarlett followed the man with her eyes in shock. Her mind throwing a bunch of questions at her. The most prominent being "how". Scarlett watched as the man interacted with Vaas. She couldn't tell if she was dreaming, if she was breathing, hell she felt like she was suddenly submerged in water. She felt a tightening in her chest and her stomach wanted to turn itself inside out. She wanted to ask Carlos who the man was, but her when she opened her mouth no sound came out.

Scarlett saw as Vaas sent two pirates to fetch the crates from the vehicle and then lazily motioned to her with his hand. The old man turned to glance at her, then turned back toward the Pirate King. A second later his posture noticeable stiffened and he turned back toward Scarlett again. Before she realized her feet were taking her toward Kidd and Vaas, anger boiling in her blood.

"Scar?" The old man asked, his raspy voice coaxed in disbelief and eyes wide, as soon as she was earshot.

"You motherfucker!" She said, her voice rising almost to the level of shouting by the end. She pushed him, with both of her handcuffed hands and put all of the weight in her torso into it. She was disappointed and even more angry, when she saw that the man only stumbled back a half a step. "You lying motherfucking piece of shit!" She hit Gareth's chest as hard as she could. She could feel the tears starting to well up in her eyes but she bit the inside of her cheek to stop them.

Gareth wrapped his hands around her wrists, holding her in one place. His eyes were still wide with absolute disbelief. "Scarlett." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her face. Scarlett tried to yank her hands free from his, on the second tug he let go. "Scar. What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I take it that you two know each other." Vaas exclaimed with a chuckle, clearly amused, neither of the two paid attention to him.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" She shouted, clearly still pissed off. "How the hell are you alive?" As soon as she spoke the words and it hit her. Gareth was alive and had let her think that he wasn't. He had lied to her. He had betrayed her. She felt like she had been stabbed. For five fucking years she had thought him dead, but no. Here he was, alive and well. Soaking up the sunshine.

For the first time since he layed eyes on her, his eyes moved away from Scarletts face and noticed the handcuffs on her wrists. "Vaas. You can't sell her." The old man turned to the younger one. "You have to let her go."

Vaas bubbled up a laugh and Scarlett, with a little displeasure, noticed that he had a very nice smile. The Pirate King motioned toward the jungle with his hand. "The mujer is free to leave."

Gareth grabbed her bicep with his massive hand, saying "C'mon Scar, I'll get you out." while still keeping his eyes warily on Vaas, wondering if the scarred man was serious about letting her leave. What he didn't expect was for Scarlett to, once again, yank herself free.

"Don't you fucking dare." She said and took a step back from him.

"¡Orale!" Carlos shouted, "We have to get going before nightfall!"

Scarlett quickly glanced toward the general direction of the sun, noticing that it had dipped down a noticeable amount. Two men lifted the last crate onto the boat and Vaas motioned to the boat. "Right this way," Offering her another smile.

She turned to walk to the boat, but yet again Gareth grabbed her arm. "Seriously, the whole arm grabbing thing is getting old real fucking fast." To say that she was still extremely crossed with the man, would have been an understatement.

"Look," Gareth sighed, "Scar. You don't know these men, they will tear you to pieces as soon as they fucking can. Let me take you away while I still can." Scarlett shook her head in disbelief. "I am your-"

"You are my what?" She lashed out, her hands balling up into fists. "Huh? You have no fucking right to pull any of that shit right now. You are supposed to be dead. You let me believe for five fucking years that you were dead."

"I hate to break up the fucking reunion, hermanos." Vaas' patience was growing thin. "But do you think you two can continue on the fucking boat. Huh?" He wasn't exactly shouting but he wasn't far from it. Gareth loosened his hold on the woman, and walked with her onto the boat. She took the opportunity to yank her arm free, she wasn't kidding when she said that it was getting old.

"So if you're not captured, why are you wearing handcuffs?" Gareth questioned, and the boat's engine rumbled to life.

"Aah," She lifted her hands up and tugged on them, as if emphasising that indeed the handcuffs were there. "This is a little present from Volker."

"Volker?" The man raised his eyebrows. "As in Hoyt Volker?" Scarlett gave a curt nod and the old man groaned. "You're doing business with Hoyt. What business do you even have to do with him?"

"You sound disappointed," she noted as her eyes found Vaas, who was standing at the very front of the boat not far from her. His face was not angry, but a certain sharpness was still present there. He wasn't relaxed, his eyes roaming from the sea to the shore that just came into sight.

"I am." Gareth said and he sounded tired.

Scarlett's eyes travelled from Vaas' face to his shoulders and downward. She noted, perhaps with a little resentment, that he had a very nice ass. She thought back to what she had heard of the man, a ruthless and unpredictable killer. It didn't once cross her mind that he might be even remotely physically attractive. As Scarlett kept staring his ass, she muttered out "You have no right to be," to Gareth. As if on queue, the pirate at the nose of the boat turned around and his eyes landed on her.

She had been caught red handed staring at a Pirate Kings ass.

Wonderful start. Her inner voice retorted and Scarlett imaged that if her inner voice had hands, it would be clapping slowly. A mocking clap, sarcastic even. Scarlett's eyes lifted to the scarred man and he rose a curious eyebrow, his eyes holding a glint of mischief. The pirate turned around and sauntered toward them.

"If you're working for Hoyt, what the hell are you doing here?" Gareth questioned.

She wished that she could have ran a hand through her brown hair, a habit that she had had ever since she was little. "Disappearing. I killed a man."

Gareth laughed. "That's funny." Scarlett raised an eyebrow at him. "Now tell me why you're really here."

Scarlett ignored the old man and instead turned to the Pirate King who was now next to her, on the opposite side from Gareth. "Montenegro, do you seriously have absolutely nothing on this boat to cut these fuckers off?" She waved her wrists in the air for a moment.

"My name is Vaas." He took a drag from the cigarette that was dangling from between his fingers and Scarlett wondered if she was to actually call him Vaas instead of Montenegro would he end up snapping at her. "And all I know is that they're probably on there for a reason. So no." With a smirk in her direction.

The frustration was slowly building up in her. Scarlett felt overwhelmed as she looked back at the North Island, with a man who was supposed to be dead next to her and a Pirate King on her other. The sun was setting and the orange light touched the jungle, blowing it up in a warm glow. The air felt lighter, not as humid as before. Clear blue water licked the long sandy beach, it looked beautiful.

Truly beautiful. It looked like paradise.

So that was all for this time.

What do you think?

If this gets a good reaction from all of you people, I'll post more.

Reviews are better than Vaas' ass... Actually no, they're not but we'll just have to make do.

Adiós amigos.

-Max