Hancock watched from his window as Adriana and Deacon blew into town, arm in arm, both laughing at some shared jest. His heart twinged at the sight, but he shoved it down and smiled, turning toward the door only to find Fahrenheit watching him with narrowed eyes. She had clearly seen what he had, but she only stepped back, clearing the path for him. Thankful for her uncharacteristic silence, he hurried out of the room and away from her knowing gaze, feet heavy on the stairs. Before he could even reach the bottom, the door flew open and there she was, outlined in sunshine.

"John!" She dropped her bag and threw herself across the distance between them, one that had seemed much larger just moments before, and then she was pressed against him, mouth searching as his fingers dug into her hips desperately.

The relief of her body against his mingled with the bitter taste of doubt and he had to fight the urge to take her there on the stairs for anyone to see. For him to see.

"John, I've missed you," she gasped against his mouth, needily rubbing against him as one of her hands trailed down the ruffled front of his shirt. I'm an undeserving ass. Even if she did want someone else, how could he think she'd lie to him about it? "Let me show you how much."

"Okay," was all he could muster as he picked her up, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He carried her up the stairs and kicked the door to his office shut behind them after a cursory glance to make sure Fahrenheit had vacated it. He spun, pressing her against the door, her moans filling his ears as he covered the scarred flesh of her neck with hungry kisses.

"I need you, John."

The words sounded like a dream come true and he dropped her onto her feet, hands finding her buckle and loosening it so he could shove her jeans halfway down her long legs. A growl rumbled deep in his chest at the sight of her damp curls, eyes darting up to meet hers and damn if she didn't look just as starved as him.

Reaching out, she unknotted the flag around his hips with a practised ease. Her eyes held his for a moment before she slowly turned around, bracing herself against the door and shooting him a devious look over her shoulder as she twitched her ass temptingly.

"Fuck, I've missed you," he rasped as he freed himself from his pants. One hand dipped between her shapely thighs, groaning at the wetness he found.

"Now, John," she pleaded, fingernails scraping against the wooden door.

He grasped his cock in one hand, her hip in the other and forced his way inside with a slow, deep thrust, both of them crying out.

He couldn't move, overwhelmed for one long, glorious moment, but then Adriana squirmed impatiently beneath him and he pulled out only to thrust back in. He ran his fingers through her hair only to find it had grown in her absence and was now long enough that he could fist his hand into it, which he did eagerly.

Adriana whimpered his name, pushing back against him and the sound of the door rocking in its frame took him back to the very first time he had seen her; he had opened the door to reveal a beautiful mess, damaged but far from broken.

"I love you," he said, each word accented by the knocking of wood on wood.

"I love you too, John."

He covered one of her hands with his own, weaving their fingers together and used the hand in her hair to turn her head, their mouths finding each other in a desperate tangle.

Hancock broke the kiss, hands moving to her hips as he increased the pace, teeth finding the curve of her neck. She cried out, spasming around him, spurring him on as he fucked her harder through her release.

His strangled voice mingled with hers as he came, Adriana pressing back against him, taking him in deeper. His arms wrapped around her, cheek nuzzling into her back, both of them panting in the aftermath.

He pulled out of her with a groan and she turned around, eyes wide and glassy, to stroke his cheek.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long," she whispered.

"It's no big deal, love," he lied.

Adriana smiled, pulling up her pants and tugging her shirt back to rights as he did the same.

"Hold me?" She grabbed his hand, leading him toward the sofa and he followed in her wake, entranced.

"Always," he answered. He settled into the back of the sofa and she cuddled in close, one of his arms around her hips while the other pillowed beneath her head. He closed his eyes, lips peppering the back of her neck with feather soft kisses. He felt her drift off to sleep, but he just laid there, eyes open, clinging to her like a lifeline.

Deacon knew where his partner was. Who she was with. What she was doing. Not that I care. He bellied up to the bar and with a raise of his chin Whitechapel Charlie deposited a glass in front of him, tipping the bottle of whiskey over it until he nodded. Charlie started away, but Deacon stopped him.

"On second thought, why don't you leave the bottle?"

"No skin off me nose," Charlie said, putting the bottle down with a thud, "if I 'ad a nose, that is." Charlie quipped before moving back down the bar.

Deacon knocked back what was in his glass and quickly refilled it, turning to watch Magnolia as she cradled the microphone, crooning into it as if serenading a lover. She looked up, feeling his eyes on her, and winked.

"Or are you running from yourself?"

Me? Never. He threw back another shot.

"Or are you hungry to be somebody else?"

Always. Another shot.

"So sit down your pretty face."

As if. Deacon looked at his glass, wondering why he was even bothering with such formalities at this point, and took a swig straight from the bottle. He closed his eyes as he swallowed, enjoying the fire that filled his stomach. It had been a long time since he'd let go enough to really drink. He hadn't picked up so much as a beer since the night Adriana almost died.

"Cause I'm the one you're lookin' for."

Sorry, Magnolia. Not tonight. Magnolia was beautiful, witty and, most importantly, attachment free. She generally operated under the policy of one and done, as did he, but that's what made the two of them work. She was the one person he knew was completely safe, that he could be physical with without fear her wanting more than he could offer her. They were very similar; she just hid behind her songs instead of lies, like him. Every time they had been together it had been casual and brief. Just one friend helping out another friend. Naked. It suited them, but right now, knowing what Adriana was up to, it just wasn't enough.

"Hey there, stranger. You doin' alright?" Magnolia's voice was smoother than the whiskey, but just as warm as she sidled up to the bar next to him.

"I'm great, gorgeous. Freakin' fantastic," he answered, throwing back another shot.

"Clearly," she laughed, taking the bottle and downing a mouthful.

"Please, help yourself."

"I generally do, darlin'." She smiled, handing him the bottle back. "So what brings you to my neck of the woods? I've got a feeling this isn't the usual visit."

Deacon sighed. Drunk as he was, he didn't intend to spill his guts like some kind of cliche, so he just took another gulp instead.

"Can I offer you a little advice, one friend to another?" She leaned forward, one hand resting gently on his bicep, her dark hair falling forward to tickle his cheek as her lips brushed his ear. "You only live once, sugar. Better make the most of it."

Magnolia kissed his cheek and then sauntered off down the bar, hips swaying and making the red sequins of her dress catch in the dim light.

Night had long since fallen when Deacon finally stumbled up and out of the Third Rail. He had every intention of making his way across the street to the Hotel Rexford when out of nowhere, there she was. She rounded the corner, probably headed into the Rail, and he just stopped, heart hammering in his chest.

"Hey partner," she said, reaching out to steady him as he swayed on his feet. Her arm slid around his waist and Deacon turned into the embrace. Just for a second. "You okay?"

Her eyebrows were furrowed with worry and he wanted more than anything to press a kiss in between them.

"When am I not?"

Adriana just sighed and smiled, but her eyes still looked sad. She needs some sun glasses. As he looked down at her, concern in every line of her face, Magnolia's words rang in his head as the whiskey buzzed through his veins and then he was moving. His hand was cupping her jaw, one thumb caressing the tanned skin of her cheek while his other arm wrapped around her waist and then he was kissing her and, here's the important part, she was kissing him back. She's kissing me back. And then the bubble burst.

What the fuck am I doing? She's my best, my only, friend and here I am ruining everything! He pulled away from her, or maybe she stepped back first, everything was such a blur he wasn't quite sure. The only thing he was sure of was Hancock standing there, fury clearly written all over his face.

Hancock opened his mouth fully prepared to kick the both of them straight out of Goodneighbor, and his life, when the night erupted in blue sparks. The small courtyard went from almost empty to filled to capacity in mere moments. Hancock looked around wildly, terror seizing his heart, only to realize what the Gen 2's were after.

"Hancock!" Adriana's terrified cry cut through all the other noise, stabbing straight through him. All he could do was stand there in shock as a pair of synths threw Deacon to the ground while another pair grabbed Adriana. She fought them, but it was no use. There were too many of them and in the next instant they were all gone in another flash of blinding blue light.

No one spoke and the silence stretched on until it reached an unbearable level and Hancock just had to say anything to make it stop. He turned to where Deacon had been thrown only to find the pavement empty of the treacherous spy.

"Where the fuck'd you go, you slippery little shit?" Hancock yelled into the night, but no answer was forthcoming. The Neighborhood Watch that were in evidence wisely kept their mouths shut and Hancock growled in frustration, tearing down the path toward the State House door. Fahrenheit appeared on the doorstep before he could reach it, clearly looking for him.

"What the fuck's goin' on? A bunch of Gen 2's just appeared in the State House, looked around and then disappeared again."

"I know and they took Adriana with them!" Hancock responded, eyes wide, hands shaking with the need to be doing something, anything, but not knowing what. He didn't care if she did want to be with Deacon, she didn't deserve to end up kidnapped by the Institute. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. Well, maybe on Deacon. Hancock took a deep breath, trying not to picture Adriana in his arms, but the image seemed to be burned into his retinas.

"They did what?"

"You heard me! They took her. What the fuck do I do?" Hancock looked to her, eyes begging her to have some kind of idea as to what they should do, because he sure as hell didn't have a clue. Fahrenheit sighed, shaking her head, but she didn't look away.

"Nothing, John." Her voice was quiet, but firm, and when she used his first name he knew the situation was truly as bad as he had feared. "She's gone."

Deacon fled as soon as Adriana disappeared. Watching his best friend get kidnapped by the Institute had been instantly sobering and he had to get to the Railroad right away. He was intentionally stuffing down any emotional response he wanted to have and he was definitely not thinking about anything that may have happened right before said kidnapping. No time for all that self-hate now.

When he blew into HQ, everyone that was awake looked up. No one ran in unless something bad was going down, so within the blink of an eye several weapons were drawn and pointed. Look at me, acting like a rookie. Awesome.

"What's happened, Deacon?" Desdemona asked, gun still at the ready and pointed at the door behind him.

"The Institute kidnapped Adriana." Saying it out loud made it real and he felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I realized something though, Dez. We've been so stupid. How'd we not see it sooner?! I mean, wow!"

"How we didn't see what?" She asked as she lowered her gun.

"The synths that grabbed Adriana appeared out of thin air or, more accurately, in a flash of blue light. We're always saying, 'It's like they appeared out of nowhere.' That's because they actually do! I think those tricky bastards are teleporting! That's why we've never been able to find them!"

Desdemona's eyes got wider and wider as he spoke and he could tell that she believed him. Before she could respond, a loud laugh rang out, echoing off the exposed brick tauntingly. Carrington. It took all of Deacon's self control not to punch the smug bastard, but losing even more of his control, in front of everyone no less, would only serve to further discredit him. Yeah, it's not like I haven't made an entire career out of discrediting myself up to this point.

"I have to say, Deacon, this is a new low," Carrington chuckled before pursing his lips and causing his frown lines to stand out even more clearly. "Even for you."

"That's funny. I was going to say the same thing to you," Deacon quipped, consciously relaxing his hands and letting them hang uselessly at his sides.

"How'd you come up with teleportation? Read it in one of your comic books?"

"Hey, at least I read something other than The Handbook of Assholery. What chapter are you up to now? 'How to lose friends and influence?'" Deacon couldn't take the disdain in Carrington's brown eyes and worse, it seemed to be catching. I have given my life to this cause and this is how they treat me? Sure, I fucking lie, but never about a lead. Never. The more he thought about it, the more their looks of annoyance hurt.

"I think I leant that particular book to you and from the looks of it, you're almost finished with it," Carrington threw back at him.

"Knock it off!" Desdemona shot the doctor a dirty look, quelling the growing amusement among the onlookers. "This isn't how we treat our agents, especially our most senior one! Get back to work," she snapped, jerking her head to indicate Deacon should follow her.

"Thanks, Dez," he muttered to the back of her head as he followed her out of the main room.

"If you didn't trick all the rookies into believing you were a synth, maybe I wouldn't have to defend you like that."

"Maybe if Carrington would remove the stick from his-"

"Enough." Desdemona held up her hand. "I wish the two of you would act like adults, but it's pretty clear that's never happening. Regardless," she said with a sigh, "teleportation? Tell me more about this theory."

Deacon told her everything that had happened, everything except for the friendship ruining kiss that is, and then stood silently, waiting for her to work through it on her own.

"I think you might be onto something here, but I also think Carrington has made it so only Tinker Tom will believe you." Deacon opened his mouth to interject, but she just kept talking, "I'm reassigning all your open missions so you can focus solely on finding a way into the Institute. This is the biggest lead we've had and I don't want you distracted by dead drops. Take all the supplies you need. I'm going to relocate most of us for now in case Adriana slips and discloses our location. I'll leave eyes here and if no synths storm the place, then I guess we'll know our trust wasn't misplaced. I'm not taking anymore chances, not after the Switchboard."

"I know she won't say anything, but I don't blame you. A repeat of that could be the end of us," Deacon acknowledged. "I'll find you when I have something."

"I know you will."

Deacon started to walk away, but paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"Thanks for believing me, Dez."

She didn't respond, but the sad smile on her face said it all.

Fahrenheit peeked into Hancock's office, but he was still passed out. It had been a week since Adriana had been taken and he hadn't left his office since. This is why it's better not to get attached. I knew nothing good would come of her. It had been a long time since he had gone on a bender as bad as this one.

Moving with a grace that seemed at odds with her size and demeanor, she crept into the room, closing the door carefully behind her. Hancock was slouched in his favorite spot on the sofa, tricorn pulled low on his forehead, feet propped up on the coffee table.

She got close enough to make sure he was still breathing and let out a sigh of relief before turning to go.

"Don't leave, Fahr," his voice cracked over her name as his hand found hers. She paused, squeezing her eyes shut. This is why it's better not to get attached.

"Of course not," she answered before turning to sit next to him.

"I have to do something, Fahr. I can't just let them have her. She's already been through so much."

"Haven't we all?"

Her words hung in the air between them, his hand hot in hers, their shoulders pressed together. "I'm going to find Deacon, kick his sorry ass, and then I'm going to make him help me find Adriana."

"Solid plan, boss."

"I thought so, too." He said before closing his eyes. It was only a couple moments before he was asleep again, but Fahrenheit didn't move. She sat, holding his hand as he slept off the drugs and booze, knowing that the next time he woke he would do exactly as he said. This time when he left Goodneighbor, he might not come back. People that messed with the Institute had a habit of disappearing.

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