I dodged a bullet, leaping right, and my shield absorbed a couple more before I was able to duck behind cover in the Helios Station docking bay.

"Haha! Come on, kiddo, stop being a coward. You haven't even taken a single shot at me!" I could see Handsome Jack reloading his six-shooter and made a quick and possibly stupid decision. I rushed him, hurdling over the stack of metal boxes he hid behind. I caught him off-guard, as he sideways-flicked the barrel closed and raised his gun in my direction. But I had the momentum, forcefully whacking it out of his hand while sliding in behind him, guns drawn. I wrapped one arm under his, my gun nestled under his chin, while the other arm held a pistol to his stomach. He slowly raised his hands in apparent surrender. "Heh heh. Whoa, cupcake, you got me. I'm kinda impressed, honestly. Now let's have a little parley of sorts, see if we can work out a deal… I would really prefer to come out of this alive, if at all possible."

"I really don't want to kill you, Jack. Quite the op—" He squirmed a bit, and I tightened my arms around him, now able to feel his solid stomach underneath his yellow shirt. It caused my thoughts to wander, picturing briefly what he must look like under all his clothing. "...Hm. Do you...do you work out?"

"People don't usually feel me up while pointing guns at me, kiddo."

"Oh. Right. Sorry about all this, I just can't trust you not to kill me before you hear me out." Mm, he smelled good. It was fairly distracting, a mix of musk and...pine? Juniper? Something like that. I wondered if he'd let me stand near him and just breathe for a few minutes.

"Okay, then what's this all about?" His words snapped me back into reality. "What's so important that a bandit like you had to come all this way to tell me face-to-face instead of over the ECHOnet? No wait, pumpkin, I bet I can guess." He said, cocking his head sideways and brushing his cheek against mine. "You've got a crush on me and want to join the good guys now. Am I right? Hm?"

"Well...kinda, yeah." I was a little embarrassed when he put it like that, already pegging my intentions. I'd guessed that's how he got to where he was: by having an innate understanding of people. Or he's just narcissistic. Possibly both?

"Damn, of course I'm right," he said triumphantly, making a fist. "But tell me, my little vault hunter, what makes you think I could ever trust you IF I decided to accept your offer?"

"I could kill you right now, with a twitch of my trigger finger, and everything that Roland and his Raiders want would be accomplished. But I won't. I'm gonna take a chance on you, Jack, and I ask that you take a chance on me." I cautiously let him go, and he turned quickly to face me, suspicious and ready for anything. "I just want to protect you. Think about it: I alone breached your defenses and could've killed you just now, or caught you alive, taken you back to be tortured...who better for a bodyguard? I know all your weaknesses and can help you fix them. I know your enemies' plans. I want to help. I want to protect you, Jack."

He crossed his arms and studied me with his beautiful but mismatched eyes intensely for several moments, considering. I guess he saw no guile on my face, because a smirk appeared on his ridiculously perfect lips and he said, "I like your style, cupcake. Good pitch. I think we may have come to an understanding. I happen to have a few openings on my staff, since you killed a large portion of them getting here."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that…" I interrupted him while putting my guns away.

"I suppose I could use someone with your skills and knowledge." My face lit up. "And since you'll be around me all the time, it's a huge bonus that you're easy on the eyes." I instantly felt my cheeks getting red. He noticed and chuckled. "Oh ho ho, she blushes easily. This is going to be fun. What do they call you?"

"Jill," I said shyly.

"Haha, seriously? Me and you...Like the thingy, the old kids' rhyme?" I nodded. "Heh...Cute. Okay, so first order of business, Jill... I'm hungry. With you messing up my freakin' plans all I've had to eat today were some sucky pretzels. You hungry?" I nodded again. "Good. Let's go."

After snatching up his fancy-looking pistol from the deck, he led me up to his office, passing wide-eyed employees along the way. I had to ask: "Are they gawking at you or me?"

"Normally I'd say me, because, heh heh, I'm Handsome Fuckin' Jack, ya see, but I think in this case they're not used to seeing a vault hunter, you know... alive." He glanced in my direction, looking me up and down. "And not in chains. And still carrying weapons. And... me being largely okay with it."

"Oh."

"Don't get me wrong, kiddo, I still don't trust you or anyone else for that matter, but you've got valuable enough intel that I'm willing to put my precious life at risk to get it."

"But...the fact that you are willing to risk it means that you believe there's at least some chance of a reward, which means...that you kinda trust me at least to some extent, right?" I asked, hopeful, with an innocent glow.

He stopped in the hallway in front of the main elevator and stuck an accusatory finger in my face. My eyes grew wide and I froze, not expecting such a harsh response. "Look, pumpkin, I don't know what you want from me. You and your band of JACKASSES spent the last few weeks making my life a living hell. Don't expect me to easily forgive that."

"You're right. I'm sorry, Jack." I lowered my head dejectedly.

"Still," he said, noting my eagerness to please and evidently caring for some reason, "I'd say you've got, ohh...twelve percent of my trust." I looked up at him as my face brightened again.

"Well, it's better than 11," I said cheerfully.

He put his hand on my shoulder and chuckled. "You've got spunk, kid. I like that. Let's bump the trust-o-meter up to 12.5 %." I shot him a grin, and he slipped his hand to my other shoulder to turn me to the waiting elevator, gently pushing me inside and following behind me.

It was spacious, decadent, and shiny, with chrome walls and green marble floors. I was afraid to touch anything, worried I'd leave fingerprint smudges. He seemed the type to fuss over that kind of thing. He hit a button on the panel, causing the doors to close as the elevator began its ascent. I stood there awkwardly beside him, sneaking glances at him and hoping he didn't notice. He was tall and lean, with lofty rich brown hair that made me curious how long it took him in the morning to get it looking that luscious, and with a rakish gray stripe on his right temple. His long face was essentially perfect: aquiline nose, intense, calculating blue and green eyes, strong jaw, perfectly arched eyebrows, and as previously mentioned, world-class lips. The only thing was, his face was actually a high-tech mask, paler than the skin around it with a few latches and a hinge on his chin. Everyone knew that though, it was common knowledge. But I'd always wondered what he looked like beneath it. Still, I couldn't picture a more attractive male countenance than if I had drawn it myself, and his arrogant yet witty and sarcastic personality solidified him as the most attractive man I'd ever met. Yet I found myself feeling strangely uncomfortable in his presence. I couldn't be sure if it was because I'd never been so close to something so beautiful, or if it was because he had such a commanding aura.

"Would you stop ogling me, kitten? I mean, I know it's hard, but it's kinda freakin' m— nah, who'm I kidding, you know I like the attention." I blushed again, flustered at having been caught. He laughed at seeing my face flush with color again. "You're too easy," he said, nudging my arm.

"Sorry, you just...you certainly live up to your name. I guess even after seeing all the propaganda posters and stuff around Pandora, I figured they were all, you know, idealized and doctored. When in reality, they really don't do you justice." Boy was I suddenly feeling bold.

He cocked an eyebrow but said nothing, just stared down at me. I assumed he was reading my face for any artifice in my words. Then in a moment of oddly genuine sincerity, he looked me in the eyes and said, "Thanks." The elevator doors slid open, stealing his attention, and when he glanced back at me the honesty in his eyes from a second ago had vanished. He stepped out of the elevator into his massive office, with me trailing behind him, looking around in awe. His enormous desk, carved from a single piece of Aquatorian teakwood, was positioned near a set of double doors, opposite from his private elevator. Further to one side was a sort of anteroom, where he had a computer console, teleportation station, and by the large windows looking down on Pandora was a sitting area consisting of a small leather sofa with a mini bar and coffee table. He plopped himself down in the large lavish yellow chair behind his desk, leaning back as he put his feet up and his hands behind his head. "What do you think, cupcake, you like it?"

"Yeah! Jack, this is awesome! Look at all this cool stuff. Nice painting," I pointed out, motioning to the one of him triumphantly riding a diamond horse as I took a seat in one of the much less comfy looking chairs in front of his desk.

"Oh right, Butt Stallion. Yeah, she's a great horse. Charming personality."

"Yes, if I recall correctly you named her after me…"

"Mm. Sorry pumpkin, too late to change it. She's just finally started to answer to it."

"Haha, okay."

"So!" he said with a clap of his hands, "You want pizza, huh? I want pizza, but, you know, I don't want to assume—"

"Yep, pizza would be great."

"Good, we can munch while we go over your paperwork and crap. Since you're working for me now." I nodded. "Good!" He picked up a phone on his desk. "Hey Meg, would you get me a large pizza ASAP? Yeah, the usual kind. Oh, and Megs?" His eyes flicked up to me. "Fire the art department...yes, the whole department. Thanks, kiddo." He pushed the same button again. "Alright, so...paperwork. Ugh. Why don'tcha slide on over here and we can crank this out together, hey pumpkin?"

I obeyed and pulled my chair around his desk to sit beside him as he pulled out a small stack of blank forms from a drawer. He handed me a pen and got one for himself. He didn't want his secretary or hiring manager to do this for him?

"Okay, here, you fill out this page for me." He handed me a sheet and I leaned in to use the desk to write on, slightly invading his personal bubble in the process while he scribbled on another page. I began to fill out the fields, but noticed an interesting trend in the information requested.

"Blood type? Organ donor? Next of kin?"

"My personal bodyguard is a dangerous job, kiddo. Come on, I pegged you as one of the smart ones. If a little… on the quiet side."

"Yeah, just the way this is all worded makes it sound like I'm not expected to live very long."

He shrugged. "It's not too late to back out, cupcake," he began, pulling out his gun, "but I'm afraid we'd be enemies again, and, heh heh, well, you know how it goes."

"No Jack," I said, gently placing my hand on his arm to quell any worries, "just… have you been through many bodyguards?"

"Well yeah," he replied, holstering his gun again. "You god damned vault hunters kept killing them every time I thought I'd found a good one."

"Sorry…"

"You guys really know how to piss me off, you know. I'll give you that much." I shot him a sympathetic expression before sheepishly turning back to my paperwork. It was several minutes before I realized he wasn't writing anything, and I could suddenly feel his eyes upon me. I slowly glanced up to see him watching me. Quickly, he cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "You, uh, you've got neat handwriting there, kitten." It was obviously a cover, but I played along anyway.

"Thanks," I said, smiling warmly at him and acting thrilled at the compliment. He looked relieved when the door opened just then and a comely woman in a suit jacket and pencil skirt entered carrying a box of pizza. She looked surprised to see someone else there.

"Ah! Meg. Excellent...timing," he said eagerly, the last word under his breath.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know you had company." She seemed to be peering into my soul as she looked me over from head to toe, critiquing my entire being as she placed the pizza box on the fairly sizeable desk.

"Meg, meet my new bodyguard, Jill."

Her eyes widened when she placed the name. "Sir! She's a vault hunter! You can't possibly trust—"

"Thank you, Meg, that'll be all," he said, interrupting her objections.

"But Jack! She's—"

"Damn it Meg, I said THAT WILL BE ALL! I know exactly who the fuck she is, now get out!" He stood over the desk, leaning on his fist and pointing to the door with his other hand, his thick forearms rippling. He was quite intimidating, and caused the secretary to skitter out the door as fast as she could stumble in heels. Even I felt a rush of adrenaline, despite his wrath being directed at someone else.

After the door slammed closed, he took a deep breath and turned back to me, a polite smile on his face. "So, kiddo, pizza?" he offered pleasantly, opening the box and presenting it to me. I nodded and smiled, trying to hide any apprehension I might have felt about his outburst.

He grabbed a piece of pizza and leaned back in his chair again, putting his sneakers up on the desk. They were brown suede with a gold stripe on each side. Kind of casual compared to the somewhat preppiness of the rest of his outfit, I thought. My gaze drifted involuntarily up his legs, looking over his choice of wardrobe. His gun was holstered at his side, the straps wrapped snugly around his right thigh. He wore dark gray pants and jacket, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. On his left wrist was a silver watch or some such device, and he sported a tattoo wrapping around the other. His brown leather vest covered a long white shirt, almost like a lab coat, and beneath that was a long-sleeved yellow shirt with black ribbed cuffs and collar, lovingly patched in a couple places and still with other small holes visible. It was evidently a favorite that was long past its prime, half-untucked from his belt. I couldn't hide an involuntary eyebrow twitch as I examined him, and my thoughts flashed back to how solid his abs felt while I had my guns pointed at him.

"You're doing it again, kitten," he said, teasing me in a deeper tone. "Pizza. Eat."

"Yes, Jack." I snatched a piece and took a bite, thankful for the distraction.

"Most people who work for me call me 'sir'. What makes you so special that you think you can call me 'Jack'?" he asked, though I could tell he was only messing with me.

"Nothing, I've just always really liked that name. It's manly and feels good on my tongue." I cringed inwardly realizing what I'd just done.

He raised his eyebrows and burst out laughing. "Hahaha, are you—heh heh—are you flirting with me, kitten?"

I began to second-guess my actions, not sure if I'd crossed the line of employer/employee relationships. "Um, well… only if you want me to be, sir…"

"Heh heh, cut it out, kiddo, you've convinced me. It's Jack to you."

"Yes Jack."

"Jeez, are you always this tense? You need to relax! Loosen up a little, eh?" he said, nudging my shoulder with his fist. "Here, we'll finish this crap later. Want a drink? That'll help you relax."

"Sure," I agreed, not sure at all.

"Good. Go have a seat on my cozy little couch over there and I'll make you something. You'll be feeling relaxed in no time, kitten," he said with a hint of suggestive undertones. I did as he said, gingerly placing myself all the way to one edge of the couch. He stood over the bar with his broad back to me, glasses clinking as he mixed us up some drinks. When he finished he brought them over and handed me one, sitting down in the dead center of the small couch. I was sure it was on purpose, since he rested his arm behind me on the backrest. "I made you a margarita. You seem a mix of sour and sweet. It suits you."

"Thanks, they're one of my favorites," I said with a smile. He clinked his glass to mine and took a swig of his cognac. I followed suit and tasted my drink. "Mm, it's good," I said, happily looking him in the eyes as I grinned and took a bigger sip.

"I'm glad you like it, kitten." He seemed genuinely pleased with himself. "I'd offer you some pretzels or something, but it's insanely hard to find any that don't taste like shit on this damned station."

"Are you a pretzel connoisseur or something? You seem to really like pretzels," I said, smirking at him and freely taking another swallow of my margarita.

"Well you know how you get a craving for something specific that just won't be satisfied until you have it? That's what I've been dealing with, pumpkin. For weeks I've wanted some, but if there's one thing the Hyperion brand fails at, it's making a half-decent pretzel. They're just chalky and stale, and it's like they don't even realize pretzels are supposed to have salt."

"I remember you mentioning them the first time you ever called to taunt me on the ECHO."

I thought then would be a good time to give him the small token I'd brought for him from Pandora that I'd had imported in preparation for this mission. "Haha, yeah, I remember…I asked you to just off yourself and save me the trouble. Heh heh... Aww, good times, kitten, good times." I tried to imperceptibly dig for it in my pack, with the intent to pull it out in merry surprise, but Jack suddenly grabbed my wrist and I froze. "Whoa hey kiddo, what's that you've got there," he said suspiciously in a stern tone of voice. I'd made the mistake of forgetting he still didn't trust me.

"I…I planned ahead and brought you a little present," I said innocently. He allowed me to slowly pull out the bag of imported pretzels, and he released my hand as his face lit up once he realized what they were.

"You...you got these for me? You can only get this brand on Dionysus! You had to have gone through a lot of trouble... This is so sweet I could ki— fuck it, I'm gonna…" He yanked me into him and planted his lips to mine, completely catching me off-guard for an initial few seconds until I caught on and gently placed my hand to the side of his face, closing my eyes and falling into the moment. When at last he let go, I opened my eyes to see him looking at me pensively, licking his lips. "Hm," he said as if amused, "so that was surprisingly… great." I beamed at him, pleased with his assessment. "Fifty-one percent, kitten. You've got the majority," he said, tearing open the bag. He crunched on a couple and moaned contentedly, then thought to share and offered me the bag.

"No thanks, they're all for you."

"Come on, have one or I'll think you poisoned them or something."

I laughed a little, and acquiesced. "Mm, these are good."

"I know, right? You're all right, kid. Think I made a good choice not killing you," he said playfully while putting his arm around my shoulders and leaning into me.

"Thanks, Jack. You're too kind," I quipped, playing along while trying to keep my inner thrill at being so close to him under control.

"Don't you forget it, cupcake." He took another drink of his cognac. "You know, you're much more fun after you've had a bit to drink."

"I hear that a lot," I grumbled as I chugged down the rest of my margarita, already noticing its effects on my looseness of speech.

"See? Told ya you just needed to loosen up."

"Yeah, I know. It's just...You're not exactly the most gentle guy, Jack. You're actually pretty intimidating, especially when you're pissed."

"Heh, me? Naw… I can be gentle when I want to be, kitten." He cocked one of his amazing eyebrows at me. "You're really intimidated by me though?"

"Yeah, most of the time."

"How did someone so...timid...ever come to be a vault hunter?"

"You hired me for my abilities, not my personality. Besides, I'm only like that at first. I just haven't gotten a feel for you yet."

"Would it help if I promised to give you fair warning should I ever feel the need to kill you?"

I scrunched up my face in response. "I...guess? It's a start, at least."

He laughed. "You should really work on being more assertive, ya know."

"Oh, okay, here I'll try," I said calmly as I really began to notice the buzzing in my head from the alcohol. "Hey Jack?" I said, leaning my head back into his shoulder so I could see his attractive face better.

"Yeah?"

"Your eyes are pretty. Never could decide between my favorites being blue or green. And your hair is frickin' amazing. But that wasn't what I wanted to say...Oh yeah... Hey Jack, can I kiss you again?"

He chuckled and said, "Why the hell not? I'm a free man again, since you killed my girlfriend."

"Oh yeah, about that…"

"It's okay. You pissed me off pret-ty good for a bit there, but I've come to the conclusion I'm better off without her. She was mostly just using me for her power fantasies and sex anyway. I'm completely over her."

"Good, cuz I was gonna say I'm not sorry about that."

He shot me a surprised look mixed with anger and admiration. "That's a bit out of character for you, isn't it, cupcake?"

"Nope. Though I am sorry for making you a little sad. But yeah, she stood between me and getting what I wanted."

"Which is?" he said, curious.

"Psh. You, of course."

"Hm," was all he said for a minute, considering. "I think we might get along just fine." I smiled wearily at him until he wrapped his other arm around me as well, pushing the both of us over on the couch so he was partly on top of me. I grinned like an idiot.

"Cut it out, kitten. Haven't you ever heard of playing it cool?"

I tried to make a serious face, furrowing my brow and pursing my lips. But he just cracked up at me. "Sorry! I'm just so excited to be here with you...like this...y'know? You're so handsome, Jack."

He just chuckled and shook his head. "You're so drunk, kiddo. One margarita! One freakin' margarita. And I didn't even make it that strong! Okay, no, actually I think I gave you the double shot, now that I think about it..."

"Yeah, I suck at drinking. I'm sorry. Shoulda warned you I didn't eat much today and I'm usually a lightweight anyway."

"Well, we'll see about that," he said, getting up from the couch, only to kneel down and snake his arms beneath me and pull me firmly to him. He stood and I wrapped my arms around his neck, nestling my face into his collar and breathing in his scent again. Juniper. Definitely juniper and not pine. "Since there's no other room prepared for you, I guess you can stay with me tonight, kitten. But just tonight. I need my boundaries, you understand." He carried me, rather effortlessly I might add, to the elevator. His living quarters seemed to only be one floor down, because we weren't in the elevator long. I don't know. Didn't seem like it was long. I couldn't keep my eyes open. Eventually he set me down gently on a big soft bed with silky white sheets.

"Thanks, Jack. You're not intimidating anymore, you're actually pretty sweet," I mumbled, trying to roll over and fall asleep.

"Yeah I know," he said matter-of-factly, pulling me back towards him. "Hey, no guns in the bed, kitten. Boundaries, girl, boundaries!"

"Oh right. Sorry." I began to remove my gun belt, my eyes half-closed. He quickly became impatient at the speed at which I was doing so and took over, removing and carefully placing them both on a chair in the room. I feebly tried to remove my boots until I gave up and he did it for me. He noticed me undoing shirt buttons and took the initiative and began to undress me down to my skivvies. Finally he let me lie down and I tucked my hands under one of the pillows.

"Hey kitten? You still with me?"

"Mm."

It took him a minute to say anything, as if he was deciding whether or not to say it. "Eh, you won't remember this tomorrow anyway… You're actually pretty hot, kitten," he said in almost a whisper as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from my face.

I had the faintest smirk on my lips as I drifted off to sleep.