*So this oneshot- which I had to write because it would NOT stop spinning around in my brain- is a small offering to those of you who are fans of the "Guns and Ghouls" series, which I haven't updated in far too long. I'm procrastinating... I suck so much at writing angst, and I am SO SORRY that it is taking me so long to update part 4 *insert sobbing emoji*.
So please accept this oneshot as my apology and know that I have not abandoned that fic; it's just incredibly slow going.
Love you all and thank you for reading! 3 3*
Older buildings had minds of their own. That's what her mother used to say, anyway.
Old houses had always creeped Rose out as a child. It was too hard to tell the creaks and groans of the wood from creeping footsteps. Visits to her grandmother's home, with its weakening foundation and uneven hardwood floors, used to fill her with nightmares if she was forced to spend the night. She'd lie awake for hours picturing the creatures that were just waiting to drag her into the shadows.
Then she'd woken up in an apocalyptic wasteland, and suddenly the monsters under her bed had gotten a lot more real.
She'd become better at telling the two apart- the complaints of rotting wood or the creak of movement- as she hadn't yet found a structure that wasn't half falling apart after walking out of the vault. Even the sturdiest of buildings suffered after a nuclear war and two centuries of disrepair. In fact, she had become so used to the noises of decrepit, crumbling buildings that silence was normally a bigger concern.
Didn't change the fact that every squeak, scrape, and shift set her on edge now.
She crouched breathlessly by the door, every ounce of her attention focused on listening. Technically she was standing in a closet, but the walls and roof had long since surrendered to the elements. There was just enough left of the original drywall to shield her from the eyes of passersby if she ducked low.
The cool ocean wind whistled past; it was still early Fall, but the temperature was much cooler out here near the water. Nahant was essentially an island in its own right, connected to the mainland by a thin strip of land that served as a natural bridge. And Croup Manor was right at the top, overlooking the ruins of the small town with the ocean at its back. It made for a beautiful view, but at the moment Rose wished that the owners had opted to build their home somewhere a little warmer and drier.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs made her freeze. They were light enough that she might have missed them if she hadn't been listening for it. She followed the telltale sounds of movement in her mind, tracking the complaints of old floors as new weight shifted across them. The footsteps paused just outside the door where she was hiding. Her breath stopped in her throat; she was statue-still, but it wouldn't have surprised her if the thumping of her pulse gave her away. For a moment she feared that she had been discovered, but then the footsteps continued up the second set of stairs, towards the old master bedroom.
If he was upstairs, she could make a break for the bottom level before he thought to check her current spot. She just had to reach the old statue in the center of the drive. It wasn't that far… all she needed was a two or three second head start. So long as she had the element of surprise on her side, she could do it.
The squeak of a board overhead told her that he had reached the third floor. This was her chance.
Rose eased the door open, wincing as the ancient hinges protested at the movement. A quick glance to her left told her the second-floor landing was empty… nothing but a couple of beds, and a mostly-intact desk. She had a brief flashback of sliding across the top of the desk while glowing-green hands scrabbled at her. Ferals weren't her favorite opponents at the best of times, but the glowing ones in particular were nasty enemies. She'd needed almost an entire pouch of RadAway after that fight.
There was no sound from the top floor now. For one tense second she wondered if maybe he'd heard her open the door… but there were no footsteps coming down the stairs. So she was safe.
Probably.
She eased her way back into the main house, almost crawling on her hands and knees so that her weight wouldn't make the floors squeak. Just a couple more inches…
"I KNEW IT!"
Rose yelped and rocketed to her feet. She flew down the stairs, but snagged herself on a crudely constructed tripwire that was stretched across the bottom step. She tumbled forward, but was unhurt; an old mattress had been moved in front of the staircase to cushion the fall. She tried to crawl for the door, but she felt a hand clench around her ankle and drag her backwards.
"Gotcha!"
"No!"
She tried to wriggle free, but he pulled her underneath him, straddling her hips and pinning her wrists to the floor past her head. She was strong, but he still had little trouble overpowering her… especially when she was unarmed and prone.
"Fuck." She stilled, chest heaving against the floor as she tried to catch her breath. "That wasn't fair, John."
"I fuckin' knew you broke the rules," Hancock purred, his voice a low rumble in her ear.
She could feel his weight against her back. She twisted, trying to get her knees or elbows underneath her, but to no avail.
"I can't believe you set a booby trap!" she protested.
"You hid outside," he countered, as one of his hands disappeared under the hem of her shirt to tickle her ribs. "Cheater."
"That closet is still technically part of the house," Rose said, her breath hitching slightly when she felt his teeth graze the curve between her neck and shoulder. "And you could've made me break my neck!"
"This ain't an argument you're gonna win, Sunshine." His hand had drifted down to give her ass a firm squeeze. "Only question is how I'm gonna make you pay for it."
She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see them. "I'm sure you'll think of something."
"Without a doubt."
No sooner were the words out his mouth than did Rose feel the sting of his hand colliding with her backside. The impact was muffled by her jeans, but still shocking enough to induce an uncharacteristic squeal.
"John, what the hell?!"
She could feel his body shaking as he laughed. "What, you mean to tell me Ol' Nate never spanked you? Then you, love, are long overdue."
She swore as she felt a second slap across the other side of her ass. Hancock shifted off of her; for a moment she thought he was done, but then he began to pull her across his lap.
"I… am not… a child!" she growled, writhing and wriggling as she tried to pull herself away.
"Wonder what the rest of the minutemen'll say when they find out I've had their General over my knee?" he mused, spanking her a third time.
That did it. She used all her strength to twist herself into a sudden roll, kicking off from the wall behind him to give herself an extra push. He was quick to react; he caught ahold of her belt loops before she could find her feet. So she improvised, kicking off her boots and quickly shimmying out her jeans at the same time. It made for a handy getaway, but backfired quickly; she hissed as the cold air immediately raised goosebumps along her bared skin.
Hancock canted his head, watching her with undisguised hunger. "Don't think that helps your situation much."
She put on her best frosty glare. "Don't you even think about it, John…"
A wolfish grin stretched across his face, a challenging glint in his dark eyes.
"Think you can try for best two outta three, doll?"
She stared him down, unmoving. He watched her just as closely. He looked relaxed, still propped against the wall with one arm slung over his knee, but she knew he could be up in a flash if he wanted.
Still… he was sitting on the ground, and she was standing. She had the advantage. And the statue was only a few yards away…
She bolted. He was blocking the front door, so she made for the one leading out of the dining room. She could see him emerge from the house as she vaulted over the rickety porch railing. He was quick, but she only needed a few strides to reach the statue. Just another couple seconds…
No such luck. Her breath whooshed out of her in a frustrated yelp as he all but tackled her. She felt his arms lock around her waist when her fingers were mere inches from touching the old stone.
"No fair!" she growled, still struggling to pull free even though it was pointless. "I was so close!"
Hancock laughed. "I told ya you couldn't beat me, love."
When she refused to stop squirming, he swooped her up as easily as he would lift a knapsack and slung her over his shoulder. She finally gave in with a resigned sigh. She was only going to tire herself out by fighting more.
"You know, I would've won if you hadn't set up that tripwire."
He began walking back into the manor, still carrying her. "And I woulda found you quicker if you hadn't been cheating."
She huffed. "It wasn't cheating."
She could feel him chuckle. "Whatever you say, Sunshine."
"I want a rematch. Red Rocket Truck Stop. And no booby traps next time."
He pressed a quick kiss against her thigh. "Double or nothing?"
"Triple."
She could feel his chest vibrate as he hummed his approval. "You got yourself a deal." He ran a hand up the back of her thighs as he stepped back into the manor, pausing to tug at her panties. "In the meantime, doll, you got some payin' up to do."
She couldn't help but grin. "Oh dear. Poor me."
He kicked the door shut behind them. "Poor you indeed."