Hancock reached over and took the glass from Adriana's hand. She looked like she was about to hyperventilate and he couldn't figure out why. He searched her face for a clue, but none were in evidence. Her expression changed from terror to anger, but then she leaned into his chest and he thought he must have misinterpreted. Nope. He realized too late that she wasn't reaching for him, for comfort. She was reaching for his knife and as she stepped away from the sofa, he could plainly see the rage on her pretty face. He tried to reach out for her, but his hands were full and she was already closing in on the man with the purple mohawk.
He elbowed MacCready and they were both on their feet, staring with shocked, wide eyes as she slipped her skinny arm around the man and pulled. Blood went everywhere and for one, impossibly long moment there was nothing but silence and the sound of the man trying to breathe, his hands uselessly clutching at the gaping wound. Blood spurted from between his fingers as he gasped wetly, suffocating. But then the drinks slipped from Hancock's hands and the sound of breaking glass acted like a catalyst, the entire room erupting into deafening chaos.
Hancock wasn't sure what the fuck was going on, but as the dying man's two companions turned on Adriana, he and Mac vaulted over the back of the sofa, coming to her aid. Hopefully his trust in her wouldn't prove to be misplaced.
He pushed Adriana back, she seemed stunned, staring ahead with huge eyes, so that he could smash his fist into the face of the man closest to her. He heard the sickening crack of the man's nose breaking, felt the warm spray of his blood. He could hear Mac taking care of the second man, over to his right. Adriana shook herself, visibly coming back to the moment, and launched herself at the man who was crouched in front of her, hands cradling his face.
She knocked him over and his head hit the wood flooring with a hollow thud, arms not quick enough to catch his fall. He watched as Adriana pulled her fist back, slamming it into his already broken nose. His blood splattered her face and chest and Hancock reached forward, stopping her fist from repeating the action.
"Why?" His voice broke through the din and her head snapped up. He almost let her go when their eyes met, so intense was her rage.
"They're the ones. The slavers."
"Kill him," and he released her hand, stepping back.
As soon as he gave her permission, the rest of the patrons calmed down, accepting the decision of their mayor and waiting for the violence to run its course.
He watched as Adriana pummeled the man, finally slitting his throat the way she had his compatriot. She looked up at him, covered in blood, smiling sinisterly and he knew it shouldn't have made him feel the way it did. He was hot with desire for this avenging angel fate had dropped on his doorstep. He reached down and as her hand found his, he pulled her up into his arms. Her bloody hands dropped the knife, finding the back of his neck instead in a warm, sticky embrace. As he looked down into her red speckled face he couldn't help himself. Fuck it. His lips found hers, greedily devouring them. She didn't even hesitate, clutching at him, pulling him closer. She bit at his bottom lip and as he groaned she slipped her tongue into his mouth. His hands slid down her body, finding her hips and pulling them toward his, enjoying the small moan she uttered as their bodies met.
"Uh, guys…" MacCready's voice broke through the moment and they sprang apart, startled. "What do you wanna do with this one?" He was standing with his foot on the man in question's throat, who was trying unsuccessfully to pry Mac's boot off so he could breathe.
God damn it, Mac. Hancock took a deep breath, trying to calm the passion the kiss had stirred within him.
"Take him to one of the cells in the State House. I have some questions to ask him."
"You got it, Boss." Mac hauled the slaver to his feet, forcing his arm behind his back to keep him under control.
Hancock watched as they disappeared up the stairs until he felt a small hand slip into his.
Shit, Adriana. What did I do? He opened his mouth to apologize, but before any sounds could leave his lips she spoke.
"Thank you. I shouldn't have acted like that, but when I heard them talking about Magnolia… I lost my mind. I couldn't imagine them doing to her what they had... " her voice tapered off, unwilling to voice the horrors she had lived. And here I am, groping her over a dead body. What a class act I am.
"Is that what set ya off? I don't blame ya, doll. If I'd heard them talkin' that way… Well, let's just say I'm not arguing with your tactics." He squeezed the delicate hand that was nestled in his larger one, trying to be reassuring. "Some people just need hurtin'."
Adriana let Hancock lead her out of the bar after he bent to pick up his knife, wiping it on the shirt of the closest dead man, the loud Mr. Handy's loud protests following them out.
"Charlie is never gonna quit bitchin' about that mess…" he mumbled under his breath as he pulled her up the steps. She should probably feel bad about the bloody shambles she had left behind, but she felt nothing but satisfaction. Those assholes got what they deserved. On top of that, Hancock had kissed her. Or did I kiss him? She wasn't sure it mattered. What mattered was whether or not it had meant anything to him. The fingers of her free hand found their way to her lips, brushing over their surface as she remembered the taste of him.
She had never really been kissed. Not voluntarily, anyway. She had rather enjoyed it, the surprisingly soft texture of his lips, the warmth of his mouth. Regardless of who had started what, he had seemed just as hungry for it as she had been and he had been the one to pull her close. When she thought about the pressure of his body on hers… They had touched so many times, but this had been… different. She took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart.
But then he was opening the door to the State House for her and it was time to focus. They needed to know where the slaver's homebase was located. She had described the place to both men, but neither of them had recognized it, so they were going to have get the information from the one living slaver that remained.
Hancock stopped, turning to her, before descending the stairs.
"Look, doll, things are probably gonna get… messy."
She laughed and the sound was cold, even to her ears.
"Like things aren't already?" She waved a hand, indicating her blood splattered form, sardonic smile on her lips.
"True enough, but you've only really seen my nice side. I wouldn't want…" The look of worry on his face transformed her smile into something sweet. She squeezed his hand, reassuringly.
"This world wasn't made for nice, John." She shrugged at the sad truth of it, "We have to get that bastard to talk. No matter what it takes."
He squeezed her hand back and they started down the stairs.
"No matter what it takes," he agreed softly.
Mac was waiting for them, lounging next to the locked cell.
"Well, you're certainly not boring… I'll give ya that." He said to her as she walked up, shaking his head while one corner of his mouth twitched.
"Why don't you go give Charlie a hand cleaning up, Mac?" Hancock said to the younger man, who rewarded him with a dirty look.
"That's the thanks I get? Charlie is probably losing his nuts and bolts as we speak!" The mercenary protested as he pushed himself off the wall he had been propped against.
"You can drink for free while you're there… as long as it gets cleaned up to Charlie's standards."
"Fine," he said as he huffed off, "but you're going to regret that deal."
Adriana hid her smile behind a hand as the younger man stomped off. She peered into the locked cell to find the slaver passed out in the floor. He must have given RJ a hard time.
Hancock called up for a chair and some rope. They got him restrained and then waited for him to come to. Hancock was just getting up to go get a bucket of water, impatient, when the guy came to, groaning when he realized how screwed he was.
"I'm not telling you shit." The man spit in Hancock's direction, but it fell short, landing with a splat on the dirty wood floor. Hancock chuckled, the sound even lower than normal, and cocked his head to the side. He smiled slowly.
"That's cute. We'll see how long that lasts." He pulled his knife out, twirling it between his fingers hypnotically while the slaver stared.
Hancock stood up and crossed to the chair, staring down at its inhabitant.
"Where's the shit hole you guys call home?"
"I told you I wasn't talkin'."
Hancock's knife flashed, burying itself in the man's thigh. For a moment he didn't seem to feel the pain, but his look of disbelief was quickly replaced with one of agony as he struggled against his restraints.
"Where are the rest of your little slaver friends?" Hancock grabbed the hilt of his knife and twisted. The cell rung with the sound of the man's pained scream, but neither of them were moved. Stony faced, he tugged the knife out, smiling at the blood that poured from the wound.
"Telling you won't save me! So what's the fucking point?!"
"You're right, it won't save you. You're going to die. And soon." Adriana watched as he walked around the back of the chair, leaning in to whisper into their prisoner's ear, "How painfully… now that's still up for debate. I could be merciful. Or I could make you suffer. For days."
The slaver was visibly shaking at this point, but then his eyes caught hers and lit with an idea.
"You know, we all had her. Your little whore over there." She watched Hancock go rigid, jaw clenched tight. "In fact, I fucked her and her little friend. Your bitch was the better though. So, good for you."
Adriana closed her eyes, trying to block out the memories. Trying to block out the man's face, his words. He wasn't lying though. They had all done whatever they pleased with her and Maggie both. She knew that the cowardly little fuck was just trying to bait Hancock into killing him quickly, though, so she opened her eyes, looking for Hancock's. He obviously knew what the score was and was breathing deeply, trying to rein in his desire to end the asshole. The slaver wasn't done trying though. He started to describe some of the disgusting things they had done to her, but Hancock was done playing. His knife flicked out again, impaling the prisoner's hand to the wooden arm of the chair.
"Why are you in Goodneighbor?" He asked over the man's deafening scream. When his cries finally quieted to a whimper, Hancock repeated the question, his voice low and menacing.
"Finn told us she was here!" The prisoner nodded his head in Adriana's direction, "He said she had taken up with the mayor."
Hancock turned on his heel and walked to the bottom of the steps.
"Fahr!"
"I heard 'im, Boss. I'll go find Finn." Adriana could hear the steel in her voice and wondered if Finn would live long enough for Hancock to talk to him. Apparently, Hancock was wondering the same thing.
"I want him alive!"
"I'm not makin' any promises," her response was followed by the sound of the front door slamming shut behind her.
Hancock walked back in, shaking his head, but smiling nonetheless.
"Alright, I'm done playin', ya feel me? You tell me what I wanna know, or I gut ya right here and leave ya to slowly bleed out. What's it gonna be?"
Hancock started toward the man and he finally cracked, like the worthless piece of shit he was.
"Thicket Excavations! It's near Concord!"
Hancock smiled, pulled the knife out of the man's hand and then sliced his stomach open, spilling his intestines into his lap. The slaver cried out in horror, staring at the ruin of his body, knowing this was just the beginning of his agonizing end. He looked up at Hancock, eyes full of incoherent question, mouth working soundlessly.
"You said it yourself… you hurt my girl. You don't deserve easy. See ya in hell."
Adriana's heart stuttered in her chest at his words. Does he mean it? He held his hand out for her and she didn't hesitate. They walked out of the cell hand in hand, the man's screams following them all the way up the stairs. When they reached the top Adriana stopped him and carefully pressed her lips to his cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered into his scarred skin before stepping back and opening the door. Their work wasn't finished yet.
MacCready stumbled out of the Third Rail just in time to see Hancock and Finn's confrontation. It's about time that creep gets what he deserves.
"I heard an interesting story tonight, Finn. Care to venture a guess as to what it was?" Hancock paced in front of the thug. Finn looked around, like he was trying to plan his escape, but there would be no reprieve. The Neighborhood Watch had gathered, as well as many of the town's inhabitants, and they would make sure he received whatever justice their mayor had in store. If there was one thing Hancock could always count on, it was his people. He defended them with his life, no hesitation, and cared for them like they were his own flesh and blood. In return, they trusted him, completely. MacCready could see the moment Finn registered just how fucked he truly was.
"Can't believe everything ya hear," he tried to smile, but failed miserably.
"So you're sayin' you didn't tell any slavers that Adriana had made it here, that she was staying with me?"
The crowd responded with cries of indignation. The very thought of someone betraying their beloved mayor had them calling for blood. Finn was shaking in his black leather jacket, looking more and more grim.
"I may or may not've-" the cries from the crowd increased and Finn's fate was sealed. Someone darted forward, a well aimed shove sending Finn sprawling at Hancock's feet. He climbed back to his feet hastily as the mayor closed the distance between them.
"Let this be lesson to anyone else who thinks they can betray me and get away with it." His knife darted out, sinking into the soft flesh of Finn's gut twice. The dying man fell with a thud as the crowd erupted in cheers. MacCready couldn't argue with the sentiment, not one bit.
Adriana caught his eye just then, jerking her head to the side, indicating that he should follow her. He did as she bade, meeting her at the edge of the crowd.
"You up for a little trip tomorrow, Mac?" Her voice was casual, but he knew how serious the question really was.
"You don't even gotta ask." And she didn't. If there was one thing MacCready couldn't stand, it was slavers. Plus, Hancock would undoubtedly reward him a ton of caps to send back for Duncan.
"Thanks, Mac. I'll see ya tomorrow." She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder just for a moment before turning and finding her way back the the mayor's side. Don't even think about her man, she's already spoken for.
Hancock looked over as Adriana reappeared at his side. He reached for her hand and she slipped hers into his grasp without
hesitation. Something inside him relaxed at her touch, relieved that she didn't seem to be looking at him any differently.
"Let's get out of here, doll."
He said a few parting words to his people and as they walked off he could hear them chanting, "Of the people, for the people!" A grin split his face at the sound.
Instead of taking Adriana back to the State House, he lead her across the way to the Hotel Rexford. There was no way their little house guest was done dying and he didn't want Adriana to have to hear it. Not that he didn't think she could handle it, because she obviously could, but because she deserved a break. Especially with what was to come.
She didn't question him as he led her into the hotel and up to the front desk where Claire's dour visage greeted them. He took the key she held out to him with a nod of thanks and then led Adriana up the stairs, all the way to the top floor, last door on the right.
Hancock shed his coat after closing the door, silently lamenting all the new stains. He looked over at the blood splattered mess that was Adriana and laughed.
"Well, maybe the Rail was a bad idea." Her face broke into a smile at his words and she joined him in laughing. If the sound verged on hysterical, well that was to be expected, and he wasn't about to judge. He pulled his shirt off and used it wipe what blood her could from her face and hands, but they both needed a serious scrub. Tomorrow. Tonight all he was worried about was sleeping. Adriana seemed to be of a similar mind, kicking her shoes off and falling into the mattress with a sigh. She scooted over and he flopped down next to her, stretching out.
"Thank you, John. I know things got… crazy…"
"You already thanked me and crazy is somewhat of an understatement, if I'm bein' honest." They both chuckled tiredly as they settled in, Adriana curled into his bare chest without hesitation and he had to remind himself that he was a gentleman. The feel of her soft skin on his ruined flesh was intoxicating, especially so soon after the kiss they had shared. It was just the heat of the moment, she didn't mean it. She couldn't have.
"You're not kidding…" she yawned hugely and he pulled her close, allowing himself to place a chaste kiss on the top of her head.
"Get some sleep, doll. This is only the beginning."
Adriana rested her head in the hollow of Hancock's unclothed shoulder, trying her best to behave herself. She knew by this point that she wanted him, how could she not? She also knew she wasn't ready. Wrapping one arm around his warm torso, she delighted in his warmth, his closeness. Besides, what of he didn't feel the way she thought he did? Better to be cautious. Patient.
She yawned, squeezing her eyes shut, already on the verge of sleep when she felt the press of his lips against the crown of her head.
"Get some sleep, doll. This is only the beginning."
He was right, of course, but she knew that as long as they were together, everything would be alright.
She felt him reach into his pocket and then shake the inhaler he pulled out. She heard the familiar sound of him taking a hit and this time she held her hand out. He didn't comment, just gave her the drug and watched as she took a hit of her own. Time slowed to a crawl, but as she drifted off to sleep it seemed to stop although. She didn't mind though, as long as he was there beside her.