Author's Note: This technically follows my other stories "Toy Soldier" and "Bookworm," but this absolutely stands on its own.


Tonight was movie night in Sanctuary.

With Elle's relentless scavenging and a bit of Sturges' handy-man talents, they got the old pre-war TV back into shape. There weren't, of course, any live broadcasts to pick up, but the holotape deck seemed to be working. And so, with the enthusiasm he reserved for food, books, and Elle's kisses, MacCready had made it his personal mission to recover as many tapes as they could find.

Now, here they all were, huddled around the one working TV set, crowded onto sofas and chairs and some on the floor - Hancock, Piper, Preston and his friends (Robert couldn't name them all). Deacon was still wearing his damned sunglasses, even in the dim lighting. And Elle was at the center of it all, grinning like a fool.

God, but he loved her.

MacCready weaved his way through the crowd to her and squeezed in between her and Deacon. "Heeey, Mackie," the Railroad agent smirked. "Thought we'd have to start without you."

Elle pressed a quick kiss to Robert's cheek. "You were almost late for the best musical in existence. Well, that I could find a holotape of, anyway."

"Mum is quite right," the robot Codsworth piped up. He was wearing one of those fancy hats, like the kind from the Museum of Freedom or the one that Hancock wore. "The comedic operas of Gilbert and Sullivan were quite popular at their debut and even before the War, thanks to revival shows. I, for one, am quite fond of the patter songs."

"Enough with the history lessons, Codsworth," Piper complained. "Let's get to the singing!"

"Yes, I am very excited to learn about this 'musical theater,'" Curie said in her breathless accent.

Elle flicked a button on the remote, and with a whirring sound, the holotape came to life: PIRATES OF PENZANCE. BOSTON COMMUNITY THEATER. MAY 2076.


A half hour later and Robert was giving Deacon pointed looks. MacCready may have been fond of a few bad puns - okay, a lot of bad puns - and was probably pretty cheesy when making googoo eyes at Elle - Hancock accused him of that a lot - but this musical was just too much.

Candy-colored costumes, a lot of dancing, too many words he didn't understand...Maybe if he read more of the history books Elle got him, he could make sense of some of this, but right now it just gave him a headache.

Deacon, for his part, didn't seem the least bit fazed and returned MacCready's looks with a smug smirk.

Robert's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden happy shriek at his side. "Guys, this is one of the best parts!" Elle practically bounced in her seat as a man dressed in a sort of old military costume and hat strode on stage.

"Ah yes! One of the famous patter songs!" Codsworth rapidly agreed.

Through the worn speakers of the TV, music sprang to life. Even through the crackles and pops, the sound was...fun, almost giddy as the character of the General began to sing:

I am the very model of a modern Major-General,
I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral,
I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical
From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;
I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters mathematical,
I understand equations, both the simple and quadratical,
About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news,
With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.

"What the heck does any of that even mean?" Robert interrupted.

"Maybe we should ask our own General," Preston grinned at Elle. At the same time, Codsworth began a helpful explanation of the historical and mathematical references in the song, while Deacon offered a lot of unhelpful half-assed guessing.

A babble of voices erupted, half-clouding the blare of the music itself. MacCready could pick out a few voices here and there: Mama Murphy suggesting everyone kindly shut up so she could hear the TV, Preston attempting to restore order but failing...

"Hey, hey, hey," Elle interrupted, over the din. "You're ruining the best part!" She didn't sound all that annoyed, despite her words. The music came to a buzzing halt as she paused the holotape.

"You remember how the General's Song goes, right, Codsworth?"

"Of course, mum! It was a favorite of young Shaun, I do believe."

"Then let's hear it!"


And that's how they ended up laughing themselves hoarse as Codsworth's attempts to teach them the lyrics devolved into Codsworth "dancing."

Mama Murphy clapped to keep time, and Deacon occasionally shouted words along to the beat, but he wasn't convincing anyone that he actually knew the song.

Codsworth began to whirl in place, faster as he recited the lyrics with even greater pace. The hat slid around on his round head (body? It was confusing with robots) but somehow never fell off.

When I have learnt what progress has been made in modern gunnery,
When I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery-
In short, when I've a smattering of elemental strategy,
You'll say a better Major-General has never sat a gee.

"What's 'sat a gee' mean?" MacCready interrupted.

"It means sitting astride a horse," came Hancock's smoky drawl from the corner. "You know, like those old paintings."

Huh. Leave it to Hancock to know something like that.

"You know what would make this even better?" The ghoul continued. "A drinking game."


And that is how movie night became a real Sanctuary tradition.

Sometimes an intoxicated one, if Hancock was hosting...