Authors Notes:

"Bad at Love" - Halsey

The snow has started falling, so they've been traveling together for a few months. I imagine winter is shorter and more mild overall with maybe a couple really rough wintry days post-apocalypse. Ya' know. Cuz' radiation.

Anyway, I've got a few more situations I want to throw them into, and I think I'm going to stop this story much earlier than the cute wrap up it got in 'And She Continued'. For SS it made sense to give her the family she'd always been longing for after the death of her previous life. For Hancock it just makes sense to end it when he finally feels like he really can love himself again... or maybe for the first time.

We'll see where this goes. I hope it's not dragging on and becoming boring.

The snow around me had melted leaving a weird circular patch of dead grass. My leathers had become somewhat damp from the moisture, making them chafe uncomfortably against my armor. I looked at Rosie again, rolling my eyes and sighing. Not only was she shivering, but a thin layer of snow had begun to accumulate. She wasn't producing enough heat to melt it off anymore and there wasn't more than a light sprinkle of flakes coming down. I cleared my throat, earning a cross glare. She'd been working on screwing in the last parts of a turret for about five minutes now. The screws kept falling out of her shaking hands.

"Dammit." She muttered as another one dropped into the snow. "I am almost done."

"I can help you know." I watched with a raised brow as she searched for the screw in the snow; her fingers were too red and her hands too white.

"I can do it!" She protested, teeth clenched.

I felt eyes on me. I looked back into Sanctuary. Preston was in his house, glaring through the window. I didn't understand why the man hated me so much and I didn't pretend to care. I smiled and flipped him the bird, turning my attention back to Rosie when she cursed. I sighed again, dropping my arms to my sides dramatically.

"I'm going to help clear out the Super carcasses."

She nodded without giving any indication she had actually heard me. "Whatever, Hancock."

I growled, stalking away towards Sturges and MacCready.

"If it isn't my favorite Zombie." Sturges smiled, sweat had stained the band of his beanie a deep grey and he'd shed his heavy jacket and gloves.

MacCready just nodded, focused on the task at hand. A few body parts lay around and I moved to collect them, "What brings all of you here?"

MacCready shrugged, not letting go of the torso he was trying to roll. His face was red from exertion and the cold atmosphere, though I was sure he couldn't feel the temperature anymore. Off in the distance the metal robot, Codsworth, was sawing another body into manageable bits. I chucked the body parts off the cliff side into the river. I knew something would come along and eat whatever was left; be it molerats, mongrels, or Ghouls.

Sturges' whole body strained against the torso MacCready was pushing against. They both had moved it about three feet when I returned.

"We're here because it's safer than out there." Sturges grunted again, moving the body another foot with a monumental shove.

I watched Codsworth putter on by with a chunk of Super mutant in his clawed appendage. I shook my head.

Being outdone by a butler.

I pulled up my sleeves. "Alright pansy asses. Watch a real man work."

MacCready scoffed, stepping back with a mocking bow, "All yours, Hancock. Let's see what you got."

I narrowed my eyes at him, accepting his challenge. I ground my boots into the snow and pushed myself against the body. It slid with relative ease. Sturges gave a holler behind me.

"Hot damn would you look at that?!" He pumped a fist in the air, "Too bad we didn't bet caps! I'd be that much richer MacCready." He elbowed the smaller man.

"Yeah, yeah." MAcCready turned on a heel only to see a small crowd had gathered around us.

I watched the body tumble into the freezing waters and turned back to the group, ready to get the next corpse.

"What's everyone staring at?"

"I don't think anyone knew how strong you were." Rosie was smiling with...

No. I shook my head slightly, moving forward as the crowd parted. I turned my head to catch her looking at me. Even with her nose running and fingers frozen I still wanted her in the worst way. Can't be...

I leaned my hands against the next body and pushed, watching it slide as the other one had. After moving it halfway to the river I paused to cool down. Between my natural body heat and the exertion I'd made my clothes even more uncomfortably damp... and the smell wasn't too great either. The people around me were laughing and sharing beers. Somehow my moving a Super's body had turned into an early Christmas celebration. I knew Mama Murphy wasn't too far off cooking some sirloin steaks, baked 'tatos, corn, and a mean pie for after dinner. She probably was watching the whole thing if she hadn't seen it in her visions already.

I caught Rosie looking at me and I could have sworn that there was a hunger there. Her eyes were heavy and intense as they dragged over my body, I could feel her gaze taking in every inch of me as though she were touching me. She wasn't chewing on her lip like she did when she was nervous; she was straight on biting it, her hands clenched around her arms tightly. Our eyes met for a brief moment and I felt as though I'd been physically struck. Her eyes were nearly completely green, her pupils had dilated, her chest rose quickly, her fingers squeezed tighter- and she looked away. For a moment I didn't care how tired or sweaty or smelly I was. I could have easily taken her in front of God and everyone and not felt the least bit ashamed.

I turned back to the Super, shifting my hips awkwardly to try and hide my hard on. I felt monumentally weaker than I had a minute ago. I closed my eyes, dragging in a cold breath. The air hit the back of my throat and sucked into my lungs; piercing the heat that had been building up. I leaned into the Super, pushing it to and over the edge in record time. Codsworth had finished his body at that point.

"Shall I draw you a bath, Master McDonough?" He asked in his prim voice.

I suppressed a growl, "I've told you Codsworth - Hancock." I paused, moving my shoulders. "And yeah, please do."

"Right then. A bath for you and Madam right away." The tin-can buzzed off as I sputtered behind him.

This was going to be awkward.

I bucked against my hand, leaning my head back, eyes closed. In the darkness I conjured up that image of her in the snow, absently wiping at her nose as her eyes digested me. The way she had bit her lip. I groaned, putting a hand out against the lockers to steady myself as I came into the rag I was holding.

"Fuck." I huffed, sighing, leaning against the cool metal. "Fuck."

If only... I heard the door to the locker room open. Hurriedly I grabbed my soap, an inhaler of Jet, and towel; shoving my cum rag into the locker carefully. I hurried naked across the room and slid into the heated bathwater. I groaned audibly as it enveloped me. It had been so long, combined with the relaxation post-orgasm and the anticipation of the hit of Jet and my aching body was about to feel some real relief.

I heard the boots tromp across the cement floor, a locker opened. The tell-tale sounds of armor being unfastened. I heard her sigh, then start humming with the radio.

Oh, holy shit. I sank further into the water, bringing the level up above my lip. I felt the familiar rush that said I was getting hard again. Already?

I listened to the hush of her clothes leaving her body, the soft thuds of her folding them and laying them in her locker. She kicked on the radio and took one of the baths near me. Either the one beside or the one next to it.

"Hancock?" Her voice was silky and slow. She was tired, probably from the cold.

"Hmm?" I kept my voice low, trying to seem uninterested.

"Merry Christmas." I heard the water splash as she moved around.

"Merry Christmas...?" No one said that anymore, no one remembered what it actually stood for. "So what was Christmas for you?"

She sighed, the sound amplified and echoed in the room. "I would usually have made a few different kinds of cookies by now. Sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies. Fudge, peppermint bark. Nuka-swirl pudding. It sounds gross," I could hear the smile in her voice, "but it was-"

She stopped herself short, as she always did when speaking of her dead husband.

"Nate's favorite?" I guessed. The silence stretched. "Tell me about him? About your life. You miss him, he must have been a great man."

She laughed, "He was a war hero. But... but war changes people sometimes. All the time." She amended, the water around her plopped and splashed. "We were a comfortable couple, I met him in college. During freshman orientation. He was smart and funny and so handsome. He was charming and witty." She laughed to herself, "Some of our stupid firsts were at frat parties on campus. The first time we kissed we were both totally drunk, only way we remembered was the stories my friends told us the next day. Anyway, I continued my career and he dropped out to join the army a couple months into freshman year. That's the-"

"First year of college, I know a little bit of Earth's history darlin'."

"Sorry Hancock. Sometimes I forget you're smart!" She teased.

"Ouch!" I put a hand over my chest even though she couldn't see me. "Anyway, finish your story."

"We wrote to one another when we could, stayed in touch. But my junior year I was already in love with him. I dated a couple other men but none compared. I think," she paused for a while, "I think I noticed the change in him even before he came back home. His handwriting lost some of the... flair? It was as though his strokes had become quick and blunt. Just like his writing. He didn't say flowery poetry to me anymore. I know it's a stupid thing, a stupid little thing. I know most women don't get that from... but, I did. And I loved it. And I wanted it back. You know?

"He just stated facts. He missed me. He missed my face. He missed sex. He thought about me all the time. But... he never put any emotion into it." She splashed again. "I never really thought of that before. And when he came back he wasn't witty so much as sarcastic. And not the way you're sarcastic, but more cutting and cruel. It was the kind that was made to make the person on the other end feel bad somehow. I don't think he realized it. We went on dates, but they were more one sided after he came back. Even his proposal was very straightforward. The war had killed a part of him and I never saw it again.

"Don't get me wrong!" She hurried, "I loved- love Nate... loved Nate? Anyway... but things had changed and I settled for that. I was happy for the most part, comfortable. It was okay. I knew exactly how my life was going to be with him. We'd get married, check. Have a baby, check. I'd continue my career part time, have another baby, work and live till retirement, move to a warmer town and become snowbirds."

I cocked my head, "Snowbirds?"

"Way back when people who were too old to work, but had earned money to live on government subsidiaries, would buy a second home somewhere warmer - usually, and live in the colder climate during summer, then move to the warmer during winter. Avoiding snow all together. Thus, snowbirds." She tapped the side of the tub. "But Nate is gone and in this new world nothing is assured. It's strange and somehow... liberating. I don't really know how to explain it, but there's a freedom in never knowing. In starting over. We had been in so much debt, even with the money Nate had received from the Government for his service. The house, the car, the student loans, the handy, the bills, the warranties the hospital bills... Here I never have to worry about that. It's just gone, I can start over fresh."

A silence stretched out between us as I bathed. I set the wash cloth down and picked up the inhaler, taking a deep breath in and letting the canister drop to the concrete.

"Taking a hit, Hancock?"

I nodded, breathing out. "Yes." The atmosphere changed. "Look Sister, I've cut way back on chems. I don't use every day anymore. I can feel myself bulking up and getting healthier."

"I've noticed." Her voice had deepened for a moment as she purred out the words. She cleared her throat, "I mean, you couldn't have moved a Super before. That was impressive."

"That turned you on." I amended for her.

"Hancock!"

"It did. I could tell." I closed my eyes, screwing up my courage, "How long has it been? Since you've... been with someone?"

"I don't know if we should venture into this territory Hancock. I like being your friend, I like traveling with you. I trust you with my life..." she sighed, "I don't want to mess that up by saying things to make you think maybe we could blur that line. I don't want to lose you. You're my best friend."

I shook my head, not responding. She had been turned on, she had wanted me. I saw it. I had seen it.

"Rosie, what do you miss the most about your Christmas?"

For a while I thought she wasn't going to answer.

"The songs." She sighed heavily, "I miss Christmas music."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, they had cute songs about Mommy kissing Santa Claus and the little kid seeing it. Or hearing the reindeer on the roof. But then there were the more serious ones like 'Grown Up Christmas Wish' about how she wishes there was no war, or famine, or pain. And even sexy ones."

"Okay, so first... Santa is?"

She laughed, "A magical being that brings gifts to all the good girls and boys around the world on Christmas eve. We would leave cookies and milk out for him. He'd put their presents under Christmas trees."

"That's... okay. Right." I stood slowly, quietly, grabbing my towel and drying off as I spoke. "Why don't you sing me one?"

She laughed, "No. I can't sing Hancock."

I stepped from around the barrier, making my way towards her room slowly. "I've heard you Sister. Particularly the way you belt out that Dean Martin song."

"I'm an alto." I could almost see her shrug.

I grabbed a chair and leaned against her wall, "Will you sing for me?"

The water in her stall moved madly. "Are you in here?"

I chuckled, "No doll. I'd never do that to you." I couldn't keep the husky quality from my voice. "Just one Christmas song, I don't care if it's serious or silly or if you think you sound like a dying radscorpion-"

"I never said that!"

"- I just want to hear you sing. It could be my Christmas gift." I closed my eyes, listening to the way our breathing mingled in the room, amplified by the emptiness around us.

She was quiet for a while. "Okay, here's one of my favorites. It's about... well... uh, Christmas and an old man. It's called 'His Favorite Christmas Story'. I always cry at the end so... be ready."

I tensed, "Is it sad?"

"Ah-ah! You'll have to find out." She cleared her throat. "He met her up in Delaware in 1937, She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress..."

I sighed, it was the perfect Christmas present. Her voice wrapped around my body, seeped into my skin, permeated every pore. By the end of the song I realized, with painful clarity, that I'd never be able to go back to a life without her.