Location: Goodneighbor

Spoilers: minor silver shroud

Status: Romanced

Side note: This actually does happen in game if you hang out in the Third Rail Bar long enough. I had to reload my save. Turns out being jealous and having an itchy trigger finger doesn't mix well.

Warning: cursing

Mine

"Ah… Good to be home." Hancock exclaimed as they walked through Goodneighbor's entrance. The gates slammed shut behind them and Macha was greeted with the familiar sight of Daisy and Kleo's shops under the lambent neon lights.

Oh thank fucking god. Her back was killing her from all the junk she was hauling around. It was time to unload some of this trash and cash in for caps. She shrugged her pack from her shoulders and swore it made the ground shake like when she landed while wearing power armor.

"Ughhhhhh," She groaned while stretching. "I miss cars. I am sorely tempted to jack a Vertibird from the Brotherhood and use it for supply runs."

"Now that would be a good reason to go back there." Hancock replied. "Why haven't we done that?"

"Because neither one of us knows how to fly. Unless you've been holding out on me?"

Hancock chuckled. "That kinda high ain't my specialty, love."

Macha rolled her eyes. "Alright. I'm going to sell some of this stuff to Daisy and Kleo. Got anything you want to unload?"

He was already lighting a cigarette, comfortable and back in his natural element; the mayor of Goodneighbor had returned. "Yeah. Check the stash."

He dug through his coat and handed her various baubles, ammo, and junk. "Gonna talk to Fahrenheit and see how the town's doing in my leave of absence. Attend my mayorial duties while I'm here and make sure no one gets any ideas about replacing me."

She smirked at him. "No one can replace you and you know it."

"See, this is why I adore you." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "You are the one person talkin' sense in a world of crazy. Now, come here. You don't think you can get away without a kiss goodbye, do you?"

Macha felt the heat rise to her face. They had passed the kissing milestone a several days back, and she had to admit, he was good. Real good. So superior that she totally got lost in his embrace and forgot he was even a ghoul. He could probably tie a cherry stem into a fucking swan if he wanted to with his gifted tongue. But those were private moments, stolen as their guns cooled and the blood congealed around them and all their enemies lay wasted. Or at night when they camped out in an abandoned car or dilapidated building watching the stars.

"Here?" She whispered, unsure. "But there are people watching."

Sure enough, the occasional drifter shuffled by, head turning in curiosity to glace at their mayor embroiled with an auburn haired woman. A few more were leaning against the walls, smoking or quietly conversing. Daisy even seemed to have her neck craned to the side to see past her shop window with intrigued expression plastered on her withered face.

"I know." Hancock replied. "Let them watch. No need to be shy. Though I do find it …delectable."

This was a dangerous town full of drug lords and gangsters, not a place for necking. She rationalized it was more about protecting his image than her embarrassment, but in her time kissing in public was borderline scandalous. Her relationship with Nate had been very conservative. Limited public displays of affection and propitiatory abounded. Nate would have pulled away if she dared kissed him in the open and here Hancock was demanding her affection for all eyes to see. "Aren't they going to think you're going soft?"

"No need to worry, the last thing I am around you is soft."

There was no further room for discussion as his lips met hers. The world dissolved away and they were just the two of them, bound together. He consumed her like fire, lighting up every raw nerve along her body as his unrestrained tongue met hers in an exotic tango. Macha's protest died in those flames and she didn't care if the entire Institute was watching and recording this moment for scientific purposes. He had claimed her, right in the open, unconcerned about what his people or town thought. He wanted her and wanted everyone to know it. There was something so sexy and provocative about that it caused Macha to release a tiny desperate moan.

He broke the kiss far sooner than she would have liked, pulling back and gazing at her with dark eyes. "Sorry love," His breathing was deep and erratic. "but it's really hard to take things slow when you keep making noises like that."

"Are you done?" Fahrenheit's powerful voice interrupted them as she stepped out of the state building. The intimidating woman looked nettled and tossed her orange hair out of her face. "Cause I've got a bunch of fuckin' paperwork up here that you need to sign now that you are back in town and I'm not gonna wait here while you play grab ass."

Hancock sighed in defeat. "Yeah. Yeah. I'll take care of business, don't you worry. Just saying some parting words."

Fahrenheit raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I didn't see much talking going on."

"I just walked through the goddamn door. Gimme a minute before you heap that shit on me." He said without anger. "Besides, have you seen her ass? It's worth taking a moment to appreciate."

Macha wanted to crawl away and hide. Her ass was now a topic to comment on and she wasn't entirely sure she was comfortable with that. And yes... of course...people where now looking at her ass to see if it lived up to their standards.

Fahrenheit threw her arms up in exasperation and headed back inside the building as John turned back to Macha."She means well. It was unfair of me to just take off and dump all this on her. I got some business to attend to, love. Go do what you need to do. You know where to find me when you are ready."

Macha nodded dumbly, her lips still on fire -like much of her face- from their little exchange as he departed. Everyone in the square suddenly busied themselves with other tasks, as if they hadn't seen a thing. Macha knew though, Hancock may as well have hung a proverbial sign around her neck that said "MINE!" Perhaps this was payback for the Ghoul sign joke she had made in front of Danse? Maybe it was his strange of protecting her? Now, word would travel and everyone in town would know, you mess with her, you messed with Hancock. Which could be both a good thing and a bad thing.

Clearing her throat, Macha picked her weighty pack up and hauled it towards Daisy's shop. The Ghoul woman had not stopped grinning the entire time, even when pretending to wipe down her counter top.

"Sooooo... you looking for supplies?" Daisy asked. It wasn't what she was asking, not really, they both knew that.

Macha felt all the eyes on her, staring now that her back was to them. She could hear them whispering among themselves. She sighed. "Hi Daisy. More like selling. I've been busy."

Oh goddammit.

Daisy snorted in barley contained laughter. "I can tell."

Hancock ran his hand over his bald head in frustration as he went over the stacks and stacks of paperwork. There was normally plenty to deal with on a daily basis, but these had piled up in his absence and were overflowing his desk. Invoices, inventory on the bar, pay for the neighborhood watch, caravan and trade contracts, the list went on and on. He had been working for over an hour and barely made a dent.

"Now I remember why I left." He complained, starting on his second pack of cigarettes for the day. He was going to need a lot of chems and a stiff drink after this.

"Quit your bitching." Fahrenheit said, handing him yet another stack of forms. "You are the one who ditched us to chase some tail-"

"Hey!" Hancock cut her off sharply. Fahrenheit gazed at him in surprise. He rarely raised her voice at her. His features softened a bit in remorse. "She's not just some tail…" He started. "She's… she's."

"Holy shit." The woman cursed in disbelief. "So after all this time, all this fucking around, someone finally held your interest, huh?"

John waived her comment away in a haze of cigarette smoke and tried to refocus on the mountain of paperwork before him.

Fahrenheit shook her head in alarm. "Bad timing boss. Sinjin is movin' in on Goodneighbor's turf. Lots of the caravans are being hit hard. Rucker alone tripled his rates this month citing losses from both Northy and Smiling Kate. Seems Sinjin is uniting the raiders across the city, banding them together like a small army. If word gets out you're sweet on some broad-"

"I'll deal with Sinjin." Hancock growled. That wasn't good news. Goodneighbor relied on those caravans to bring in much needed supplies for Daisy and Kleo's shops. If the rates went up because of raids, his people would suffer and so would his business. Most people in town barely scraped by as is on meager caps earned by odd jobs and the liquor for the Third Rail was imported from traders like Rucker. Hancock liked to pretend he ran the show, but the true star of Goodneighbor was booze, chems and sex. Sinjin strangling their resources meant people got scared and angry. And scared people did stupid shit like revolt or riot which was typically not favorable for those in charge.

As far as Macha was concerned, she was tough and could handle herself. She blended into the shadows now with such grace and ease even he lost sight of her in moments. She was a crack shot, putting a bullet in the brains of anyone foolish enough to get in her sights. He wasn't worried there. He'd personally flay anyone that tried to harm her. Besides, they had taken down a fucking deathclaw together. Sinjin was easy quarry compared to the deadliest predator of the wastes.

"Send out some feelers and see if you can get a bead on Sinjin's hideout. Lean on a few scavers if needed, but keep it discrete." He said thoughtfully, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. "We may have to send him a reminder soon that this is my goddamn town."

Fahrenheit nodded in comprehension as she headed towards the door, already sorting through her mental list of informants. She passed the auburn woman that had captured Hancock's attention on her way out. Using her years of combat experience, she quickly sized Macha up. At first appearance, the woman seemed unimposing; like a suburban housewife on one of those old Nuka-Cola posters. Tight-laced, neat and given her hair cut and Pipboy, a former vault dweller pretending to be a hardcore wastelander. Yet, most people Hancock ran with had to hold their own or they didn't survive.

A second glance revealed the scrapes and dents in the woman's armor, the small arsenal of weapons hidden on her person, the lithe muscles that flexed as she moved. The woman may flash a saccharine smile, but her eyes were hard and alert. She wondered how many people had only taken that first passing glance and ended up paying for that oversight with their lives.

The redhead gave Fahrenheit an acknowledging nod as she joined Hancock in his office and wrapped her arms around his hunched form, whispering something in his ear. Fahrenheit saw something then that cemented her decision about the woman's lethality. This wasn't just a passing crush Hancock had; he was in love. It was etched in his being, every movement betraying his adulation. His eyes lit up the second she came in the room and he beamed, unconsciously leaning into her touch. His features softened and lost some of that sadness that weighed him down. She glimpsed the first genuine smile not induced by chems in years.

Fahrenheit scowled slightly. She was happy for him but this was a problem. Year after year she had watched her friend spiral into more destructive chem and alcohol use to the point she wondered if one day she would find him dead in his office. He deserved some happiness, but there was more risk than reward when it came to love. Sinjin was a nasty piece of work; a drug lord turned raider leader with ambitions to own Goodneighbor and anyone that set foot through its doors. This complicated matters and made her job harder. Now she had to re-evaluate how to keep the woman safe too, because if anything happened to her, Fahrenheit knew her boss wouldn't likely be around for long afterward.

The warrior cracked her knuckles and left the lovers in peace. She had some heads to knock together, a few palms to grease and needed to make sure certain mouths stayed shut. She equated her job to a game of chess and another player had just entered the fray; a rogue pawn that had somehow checked the King and had thrown off her game.

"Here's your share of the caps." Macha said, placing a hefty purse on the desk as she leaned over him.

John sighed contently at her warmth resting against him. This was all he needed. He handed the caps back to her, putting down his cigarette to squeeze her hand for a moment. "Nah. Keep 'em. I got plenty. Go by yourself something nice."

"Like what?" Macha said tossing herself on his well broke in couch. "Ohhhh. Maybe that missile launcher that Kleo has for sale. What did she name it? The Partystarter? You think it shoots confetti?"

"No, but I bet the fireworks it creates are a sight to behold." Hancock laughed softly, signing off on his inventory log for the bar. One down, hundreds to go. He watched Macha out of the corner of his eye as she injected her self with one of her powerfully concocted chems.

She offered him a box a berry mentats. "Something to liven up all that paperwork?"

She tossed it to him and he downed a few, feeling the rush of the narcotics. He repaid her with a charming grin. "Where have you been all my life?"

"I suspect, a popsicle for most of it." Macha replied, fiddling with her Pipboy. She cycled through a few of her games, thinking about playing a round of Red Menace while she waited, but wasn't really in the mood. She flipped over to the radio stations and something caught her eye. "Silver Shroud Radio? What's that?"

"Eh, friend of mine, Kent, plays reruns of Galaxy News Radio and does a talk show on that station. Some Pre-War radio show about a costumed vigilante in a trench coat."

Macha sat up animatedly. "No way!? No fucking way!? The Silver Shroud? Like THE Silver Shroud? Super hero and crime fighter of the streets of Boston?!"

"So, got a thing for costumed freaks, huh?" He winked at her. "Well, guess we knew that."

She tuned into the station, giddy as the familiar cheesy intro began.

"Chamomile, bane, ecstasy, this can only be...The Den of Mysteries!" Her Pipboy blared in the overdramatic baritone of the Shroud.

"Be still sweet shroud I removed that scumbag's slug, but you're sick with fever and still suffering." The Mistress of Mystery's sultry voice was exactly how she had recalled it.

"You're really into this, aren't you?" Hancock observed.

"Sushhhhhhh." Macha flapped her hand at him to be quiet. "This is the part where the chief of police shows up and accuses them of murder."

Sure enough, an amplified voice boomed over the radio waves, demanding the Shroud surrender. John went back to his paperwork, amused as she gasped at every pseudo gun shot and sound effect emitted.

"You know," He said once the broadcast was over. "Kent lodges over at the Memory Den. He's a real fan of the show. Ghoul, been around since probably before your time and knows almost every line by heart. He even has some of the old posters and memorabilia. I'm gonna be here a while. Why don't you go meet him? Reminisce a bit. I'll catch up when I'm done and we can go for a drink at the bar."

Macha crinkled her nose. Her last experience with the Memory Den had been unpleasant. Having to relive Nate's murder and the theft of her child. The there was the trip into Kellogg's mind. Still, she had loved the Silver Shroud growing up. Her parents had listened to it with her every Sunday night before bed. She had even dressed up as the Shroud one Halloween and had stalked around the neighborhood threatening all the 'monsters' in her best Shroud impression. He had been her childhood hero. The product of simpler times and happier memories. It would be nice to speak to someone who recalled that.

Standing, Macha started towards the door and then doubled back to John, gracing his cheek with a kiss.

"Thanks." She whispered. "Don't keep me waiting too long."

And then she was gone, disappearing into the darkness and leaving Hancock with renewed motivation to get through this heap of paperwork as quickly as possible.

Hancock paused at the doorway to Kent's room in the Den. Macha's throaty laugh resounded off the walls of the cozy room, bringing a smile to his face. He lit another cigarette grumbling as his fingers wouldn't cooperate. Goddamn his hand hurt. If he never saw another form or work order again, it would be too soon.

"-and then Manta Man turned to the Shroud and said, 'I think Mr. Abominable just needed to ...chillout." Macha's voice was high pitched in fervor, nearly stumbling over her words as she tried to expel them.

He heard Kent wheeze with laughter and slap his knee. "Yeah... and then.. the Shroud said, 'He was on thin ice."

They both dissolved into a fit of hysteria as John entered the room. Kent had pulled out all his old posters and cardboard cut outs of gangsters from the original show he had salvaged. No doubt he had told her the back story of every one and how he acquired it.

"You kids having fun?" He asked, placing a protective hand on her shoulder.

Macha rubbed the laughter induced tears from the corner of her eye and went to join him by his side. John felt a secret thrill about that, like he already knew his place in the world; right next to her.

"I was just telling your friend about how we could really use someone like the Shroud here in Goodneighbor." Kent offered in way of greeting. "Someone to give the rest of us a symbol of something better. I have a plan to bring the Shroud to life."

Hancock humored him. Kent was a good guy, a bit stuck in the past, but alright in his book. "Worth trying anything once, but if it involves mad scientists and electricity that's not really my shtick."

Macha nudged him with her hip. She clucked her tongue at him in disapproval. "Be nice. Good for you Kent, for trying to make the world better."

She was still trying to save the world, one person at a time. He watched with admiration as Macha and Kent plotted to revive the Shroud by reclaiming his costume from Hubris comics.

"You're the best. I know you'll find it and we can finally see some justice on these streets." Kent said, standing and offering Macha a handshake. She seemed taken aback for a moment, then clasped his hand with hers in the perfect gesture of civility so long ago forgotten.

"Wait...?" Hancock question in confusion. Either he had one too many beers or the writers of show really loved dreadful puns. He had never listened to the radio broadcasts in great detail, and now he was kinda glad he didn't. The campy plot sounded absurd to even his stoned ears. "So Mr. Abominable was trapped in an iceberg?"

Macha took a shot of vodka and turned the shot glass over, tapping the counter to signal Whitechapel she was ready for the next round. The bartender of the Third Rail hovered over and replaced it with a brimming shot of vodka. "Yeah. He was a caveman. That's why when the dynamic duo of Manta Man and the Shroud put him back on ice.. they said -she paused for dramatic effect- he needed to chillout. You get it? Because of the ice?"

John groaned and shook his head. "That's bad."

"What?" She sounded slightly offended.

"Dynamic Duo? Who wrote that shit? And why the hell do you seem to enjoy it?"

"I grew up on that show. The Shroud was always kinda my hero. Didn't you know you were dating a square?"

"It's the rounder parts that caught my eye, but I'll address that on another day."

Macha playfully backhanded him in the arm before taking another shot.

Their conversation was interrupted as a ghoul woman flung her arms around Hancock's neck, knocking his hat askew. Macha briefly fantasized about breaking a beer bottle on the bar top and repeatedly stabbing her with it as the ghoul pressed her body against Hancock and nuzzled his neck. "Hey Hancock." She crooned coquettishly. "Been a long time. You back for another tour of the town?"

"Sorry, ain't a touring Ghoul anymore. The one I got ain't the type you go wandering on." He cast Macha a fetching wink as he untangled himself from the woman's arms and gently pushed her off of him. Classy and cool, unlike Macha who was contemplating murder.

The ghoul gave Macha a death glare, her gaze scrutinizing Macha. It was obvious she didn't approve.

"Hi." Macha fluttered her lashes at the woman and reached across the bar, taking John's hand in her own. She ran her thumb over his, daring the woman to touch him again. John drove the point home by bringing her hand to his mouth and planting a kiss on the back of Macha's hand.

"Oh. I see." Her lip curled up in disgust, but she said nothing more and quickly left the bar. Macha waited till she had departed and dropped his hand giving John what he could only refer to as THE LOOK.

"Please tell me that wasn't what it sounded like. You ran a side business as a tour guide as part of your mayorial duties, right?" Macha asked, not daring to hope.

John half shrugged seeming just a bit guilty. "Well.. not really. I did tell you there were other-"

"Hancock!" A petite brunette woman called across the bar as she exited the restroom.

Hancock spun around on his bar stool as the busty human girl approached him. The brunette actually preened in front of him, fussing with her hair and straightened her dress. "I heard you were back in town. I just got a new place at the north end and was wondering if you would like a tour?"

Hancock chuckled nervously and Macha's THE LOOK grew sharper. He was fairly certain if it intensified any further, she could shoot lasers from her eyes without the need of fusion cells.

"How lovely," Macha interjected through clenched teeth. "Maybe we can chip in for a housewarming gift sometime later. At the moment, my boyfriend and I are having a drink."

"B-boy.. friend?" The girl stammered, losing confidence.

"Guilty as charged." Hancock leaned back with that same cool smile. He was enjoying this Macha realized. She was going to kill him. Once she was done with this girl, that is. She would kill them both and feed Strong their bodies.

"Oh. Sorry. N-nevermind. I'll just... excuse me." With that, the busty brunette headed back up the stairs.

"Just how many 'tours' have you been on?" Macha growled at him. She knew he was a bit of a player, but my god, did he fuck half the town? Adjusting to their relationship was hard enough with the survivor's guilt, their differences, and her conservatism, but now jealousy was being added to the list of obstacles. Even though he had rejected the women, it still stung to know he had lain with them. He had kissed them like he kissed her. Women far more unreserved and experienced than her. While she was still working through her own issues they had freely given him something she couldn't at the moment. She signaled for another shot.

"Aw, come on love. Don't be like that." He tried to reassure her by touching her arm, but she snarled in his direction. "That was before you and-"

"Hancock, baby. Long time no see-" The next woman stopped mid sentence because the barrel of Macha's suppressed .38 revolver was centered between her eyes.

"You were just leaving." Macha helpfully informed the drifter, cocking back the hammer for emphasis.

The woman's gaze flickered to Hancock who shrugged. Some other men might be turned off by her possessiveness, but not him. The thought of her resorting to violence to assert her place by his side only made him want her more. He loved watching her lose that stiff veneer of decorousness and break free of her constraints. Violence and passion ran hand and hand and he wanted nothing more than to be the one that made her lose control. "You heard the lady. She tends not to ask as nicely the second time."

"I was ...just... leaving." The woman said and backed away. She backed up a few more steps and then bolted out of the bar.

Macha ground her teeth and holstered her weapon. Her head slowly turned towards Hancock and she pinned him with her gaze. "Ok, if a super mutant walks in next and says 'Hey Hancock', I don't know if I will laugh, or cry, or shoot you. I might just do all three."

"Hey ya Hancock-"

Macha slammed her shot glass down on the bar, her neck and back muscles bunched up as she whirled on the new arrival."Oh my fucking god! Don't you ladies get it!? Here! I'll spell it out for you!"

Macha sprung up from her stool and straddled John. Propriety be damned. Without reservation, she took John's hands and put them on her ass as she smothered the ghoul with a long deep passionate kiss. There was some cat calls, whistles, and jeers as she publicly made out with him to the point of salaciousness. When she finally pulled away, he looked a bit dazed and breathless, hat nearly falling off, blinking rapidly as if to clear his head.

"There, got the idea? Now back off you harpy." She hissed at the stringy haired woman.

"Um.. I just wanted to ask for some chems." The graying woman said, baffled and wary.

Macha hadn't really even looked at her when she had addressed them. She had just assumed like the last three, they she was here for the 'tour.' The woman was in her late sixties and obviously strung out, track marks and bruises apparent on her weathered and age spotted arms. Macha digested that for a moment, the sneer slipping from her face. She glanced down at Hancock. Hancock whom she was still straddling; Hancock who she had just jammed her tongue down his throat in full view of the every bar patron; Hancock whose brash smile now stretched the entire span of his face.

"Well, don't stop on my behalf." He squeezed her ass for good measure, egging her on.

The bar was deathly quiet and Macha turned a shade of red that nearly matched her auburn tresses.

"Oh." She squeaked in mortification, sliding from his lap. She couldn't even look at the woman anymore. Instead she fished out a bottle of Buffjet and handed it her. "Sorry."

"Yeah...thanks." The older woman muttered under her breath as she wandered away. "Nutter."

Macha sat back in her seat, staring straight ahead at the dirty liquor bottles lining the shelves, trying to will herself invisible. Be the stealthboy Macha. Gradually, the sounds of the bar restored themselves and people went back to whatever it was they were doing before her outburst. The clank of glasses resumed, Magnolia took the stage and began singing and just as she thought she was safe, she caught John leering at her from the corner of her eye.

"What was it you said at the gates?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Don't." Macha said hiding her face in her hands.

"I seem to recall it was something like, 'Here? But people are watching."

"Please stop. I can't believe I did that. You must think I'm some kind of insecure crazy woman."

"Maybe, but you are my kinda crazy. I can't say I'd handle myself any better if someone put the moves on you right in front of me. If it makes you feel any better, I'll shoot the next one to get the message across." He put an arm around her and pulled her to him, rubbing her shoulder.

Her mouth twitched in an involuntary smile at that and for a moment she relaxed in his embrace, then she blinked and her gaze hardened and she snapped to attention, THE LOOK back in full force. "Wait.. There's MORE?!"

John chuckled nervously and suddenly wished for more paperwork. It was going to be a long night.