Author's note on canon: I accept that the events of this story probably don't match the canon exactly. But the canon of the relationship between Moxxi and Jack is very difficult to pin down exactly – there is some confusion between the little revealed in Borderlands 2 and the rather more detailed depiction in the Pre-Sequel. If anyone is able to illuminate me on what the canon actually is, please do – I'd love to know.
1 – Heartbreaker
I don't want to set the world on fire…
(Timeline: Atlas has fallen, Hyperion has begun to take their place. Probably a few months after the death of General Knoxx, so possibly up to six months after the opening of the Vault.)
Moving the Red Light from out in the Deep Fathoms into T-Bone Junction had certainly been a worthwile investment, if Moxxi did say so herself. Out there, business was not exactly good – her customers consisted primarily of bandits, who had learnt better than to attack her but still came in to gawk at her cleavage. Here, she did much better business.
Tonight was a relatively slow night, for a Friday, probably because of the rain. Moxxi didn't mind too much – it was better than a crowd of drunken, wolf-whistling men. Nobody was bothering her at the moment; the one rude customer had long since fallen asleep at the far end of the bar.
The door opened and a man stepped inside, shaking down his umbrella outside the door. Moxxi's eye was drawn to him immediately – he was tall and slender, and had quite striking features. After putting his umbrella down, he strode over to the bar and sat down. Close up, Moxxi noted, he looked quite tired; his face was lined and there were bags under his eyes, which Moxxi also saw did not match – his right eye was blue, while his left was green.
"What's your poison, sugar?"
"Whiskey and soda," replied the man, sounding as tired as he looked. Moxxi mixed his drink and placed it down on the counter. He picked it up gratefully and passed a ten-dollar note over the counter.
"Long week, huh?" Moxxi rummaged in the till for some change and passed it back over the counter.
"Yeah," muttered the man into his drink. "Crazy. Had no idea building a space station was this hard."
Moxxi raised her eyebrows. "You're Hyperion?"
"Well, that's not my name," replied the man with a wry smile. "But I work for Hyperion, yeah."
"And what is your name, sugar?"
"Call me Jack. And you must be Moxxi, of the Underdome fame."
Moxxi was genuinely surprised by this. "I didn't realise word of the Underdome had spread as far as the moon."
"Really? You're missing out on a big marketing opportunity there. Big market to expand into, up on Elpis."
"You a big-shot marketing man, then?"
"Nah. Software engineer. But you don't need to be in marketing to see it – people love the Underdome. They love you."
"I know," said Moxxi sultrily. Jack winked; Moxxi had to stop herself from giggling.
"So they need software engineers to help build a space station, do they?"
"Well, no," replied Jack. "I've been put in charge of supervising the construction… for my sins."
"Ooh, a sinful man," smirked Moxxi. "What were your sins, exactly?"
"Er… proposing the project," admitted Jack, slightly sheepishly. "The CEO thinks it's a waste of time, but the board disagreed… He basically told me that if that's the way it was going to be, I could manage the project myself."
"So, mister big-shot project manager," Moxxi continued, "what brings you to our little town? Drinks no good up there?"
"The booze is fine, but the conversation is much better down here," replied Jack with another wink. "And sometimes you just need a change of pace, you know?" He drained the rest of his drink. "That was good whiskey, mind. Not Hyperion, is it?"
"Nope. Finest quality Maliwan."
"Hm. Well, credit where it's due – the war hippies make some good alcohol, anyway."
Moxxi drummed her fingers on the holster of her revolver, Rubi. She, personally, thought Maliwan had the right idea – making combat sexy. She didn't say this, though.
"Refill, sugar?"
"Won't say no," replied Jack, sliding his glass back over the counter. Moxxi refilled it. Jack reached for his pocket, but Moxxi waved him away.
"On the house. Cause I like you."
"Oh, I couldn't do that," said Jack, feigning outrage.
"I insist," replied Moxxi, smiling slightly.
"Well, at least have one yourself."
"Not right now, sugar. Maybe later. Tell you what – you can owe me a drink in return."
"Sounds good to me," said Jack, raising his glass in a small toast. This time, Moxxi let herself giggle.
Three days later, the weekly Monday free-for-all was over. Plenty of bandits lay dead, and the crowd had flowed out of the stands and was slowly dissipating from the lobby. Moxxi surveyed the carnage strewn around the arena with a satisfied smile, then slid down to the ground and made her way inside.
The remaining crowd clapped and cheered as Moxxi entered the lobby. She smiled and waved and blew kisses as she made her way carefully to the back room, closing the door tightly behind her.
Hearing the door close, the man inside the back room looked up. He was tall and thin, with a small pointed beard, a short ponytail and a pair of goggles on his head. A large bird sat on his shoulder, and a large sniper rifle lay on the table in front of him. He stood up as Moxxi approached.
"Hi, sweetie," said Mordecai. "Good day today, wasn't it?"
"Yep. Looked like I gave you a bit of a workout down there, sugar," replied Moxxi, smirking slightly.
"Nothin' I can't handle," replied the hunter, scratching Bloodwing's head absently. "So what's up?"
"Well, I thought you might like to know; I found myself a new toy a few days ago."
Mordecai hesitated. All the signs so far were pointing to this not being a good thing. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"When you say 'toy' -"
"I know what you're thinking, sugar, and don't worry – I never sleep with more than one person at a time."
Mordecai relaxed. "Oh, well that's a -"
"Which is why I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut you loose."
The hunter blinked. "What?"
"You're no fun, Mordecai." (Mordecai registered the renewed use of his name rather than 'sugar'.) "You're always tending to your guns, or your bird, or off killing things for Roland. You never seem to have time for me any more."
"Woah, woah, woah," said Mordecai sharply. "I won your tournament – I thought -"
"You thought wrong."
"Well, what about your pistol? I found that, didn't I? You wouldn't have that if it weren't for me!"
"True, and I'm awful grateful to you for bringing Rubi back to me. But that doesn't change anything. Besides, you hardly went looking for her – you just happened to stumble across her."
Mordecai was running out of arguments. He paused, groping for words.
"So in short," said Moxxi, pouncing on her advantage, "you've been replaced."
"Yeah?" snapped back Mordecai, finding his voice. "By who?"
"By whom. Handsome, charismatic, corporate… all the things you're not." Moxxi's voice was clipped with ice as she swung her insults, but only one word seemed to register with Mordecai.
"Corporate? Hah! Hyperion, probably. That'll end in tears, you mark my words."
"Who knows? Maybe you're right. But you know me, Mordecai – whenever I'm caught between two evils, I take the one I've never tried. And you see…" Moxxi smiled with an air of awful finality, "I've tried you."
Mordecai glared at his now-ex-girlfriend, who flashed her most winning smile back at him. Without another word, the hunter swung his sniper rifle onto his back, causing Bloodwing to squawk unhappily, and swept out the door, through the crowd, leaving a ripple of conversation in his wake, and over to the fast travel station. Moxxi watched him, still smiling, until he vanished in a flash of blue.
In the afternoon warmth of Treacher's Landing, Mordecai positioned himself carefully, the rays of the sun warming his back. His hands were still shaking slightly with rage, but his combat instincts were still working, and any fighter worth his salt knew to make your enemies face into the sun. He surveyed the area through his rifle, then took aim and fired.
The first bandit's head exploded. The others snapped to attention, drawing their weapons and firing in Mordecai's general direction. With the sun in their eyes, though, their already typically poor aim was even worse, and Mordecai's shield easily soaked up the few bullets that did find him. He pulled the trigger once, twice more. Both shots missed. He cursed, reloaded, and aimed again. This time he had more success.
It took him longer than he would have liked to clear out the small group of bandits, but no matter – he'd found what he needed. The hunter strode down past the dead bodies and grabbed the dirty brown bottles scattered on the floor.
"Rakk ale. Hmm…" He held one bottle up to the light, then flicked the top off and took a swig. "Yeah, not bad. Not bad…" He downed the rest of the bottle, collected the remaining similar bottles and drank deeply from one of them. Amongst the bottles, dead bodies and worthless assault rifles, he also found an Atlas revolver – an incredibly rare find, now that Atlas had pulled out of Pandora.
As he made his way back to the fast travel station, still angry but satisfied with his finds, two more bandits opened fire on him from the nearby watchtower. He swung his rifle back into his hands, put his eye to the scope and fired twice. Both bandits fell instantly. Mordecai chuckled.
"Well, what do ya know… I guess I am a better shot when I'm drunk."