Executing Probate

Bossanova met Gage with a wide, toothy smile.

"Got them?" she asked, her eyes flicking carelessly down to the weeping Evelyn at his feet, before trailing over to Jack, who was still struggling to support Alphonse. She snapped her gaze back to him. "They look worse for wear."

"Yeah, funnily enough, they weren't none too keen to come with us," Gage growled, nettled by the comment. "All you asked for was alive. A stimpak or three will sort them out."

"True." Bossanova beamed at him. She strode over to Jack, ignoring her indignant protests, and helped drag Alphonse upright. "Shall we?"

Mutterings broke out like a swarm of bloatflies, buzzing in Gage's ears as they hauled their prizes through Nuka Town and towards the Parlor. More slaves? Meat for the gauntlet? A gift for one of the gang leaders?

Close enough, Gage thought as he walked ahead of the others and kicked open Mags' front door. The gloom and cool of the Parlor was a relief from the heat of the sun, but even the dark couldn't hide Mags' shocked face from Evelyn. The second Gage forced her over the threshold, she took one look at her daughter and began to scream again.

Gage gripped her throat, holding the irritating sound in place with his fingers, his patience spent. He tilted his head to Mags as Bossanova and Jack brought up the rear and gave a short nod, drinking in her stunned expression as she leapt to her feet, William by her side.

Gage gave Evelyn a little shake, not breaking eye contact with Mags. "Believe this belongs to you?"

Mags said nothing, her mouth hanging open.

Bossanova stepped forward, pulling Alphonse from Jack's grip, and threw him to the floor. Following her lead, Gage did the same, and Evelyn toppled onto her husband with a rasping shriek of pain, choking for air.

With his sister still rendered speechless, William stared down at his parents for a second, and then said to Bossanova, "How?"

Bossanova shook her head and pointed to Gage. "I asked him to fetch them without raising any suspicions—and here we are."

A sharp sliver of gratitude pierced Gage's chest, but he didn't look away. She was passing him credit—solidifying his worth in the eyes of the Operators—but now was not the time for puppy-eyed thank yous. All that mattered was he'd fucking delivered.

"But how did you know?" Mags croaked, like she hadn't spoken in years.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Bossanova smirk and fold her arms. "I'm the boss. It's my job to know. Remember Mason. And Nisha. I decided to give you a chance instead."

Mags and William glanced at each other, paling, and Gage got the fleeting impression they'd been cooking up their own half-baked rebellion. Had Bossanova found out or guessed? Whatever the answer, it was irrelevant now. Their expressions shifted as they turned back to Bossanova with renewed respect. Mags slowly sank down to one knee in front of her mother, reaching out and gently touching Evelyn's face. Evelyn whimpered, her eyes wide with fear.

"As for the matter of the money…" Bossanova said, her tone casual, but staring fixedly at Mags.

Mags' head snapped up to her. "The money?"

"Your inheritance."

Mags looked as if she wanted to question Bossanova's knowledge, but decided against it. She gave a small nod.

"If you want it, I'd recommend forcing them to change their wills in your favour. That's how we did it in my day."

"Their wills…" William said softly.

"The method is up to you, of course. When you showed me your schemes not too long ago, I distinctly recall your associate Miss Wyath was working on a formula to make the mind more...malleable."

Gage bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself rolling his eye. He was a straight talker, not dancing round the facts with fancy words—the Blacks, however, seemed to be lapping it up.

"But even with the formula, you might prefer something more traditional."

"The personal touch," Mags breathed, eyes boring into her trembling mother.

William laid his hand on her shoulder, and turned his hard, searching gaze first on Gage, then Bossanova. Suddenly, for the first time since Gage had met the man, he smiled. "Thank you."

It was lucky the boss had a handle on all the pretend polite society dealings, because while Gage could only stand there gawking like an idiot, Bossanova smoothly responded with, "You're welcome. I hope we can continue to build on these foundations."

Mags slowly got to her feet her eyes narrowed. Then she snapped her fingers sharply. Gage's hand twitched to his gun, but he managed to resist the urge—Bossanova had warned him not to do anything rash. A second later, a group of Operators strode over, seizing Evelyn and Alphonse and carrying them away.

Mags waited until the wails died and then stepped towards Bossanova, her pristine features grave. "Whatever you want...whatever support you need—it's yours." Gage made a noise in the back of his throat, unable to help himself, and Mags snapped her attention towards him, glaring. "I mean it. This gesture is priceless." She hissed the last word.

Gage wondered a little why Mags and William never bothered to collect their parents themselves. He could only assume Diamond City knew them too well for a kidnap job. Or it was too low on their priority list while Nuka World was still in the works.

"I will have need of you later—" Bossanova began to say to Mags.

"Anything."

Bossanova held up her hand and Mags fell silent. She waited a moment and then continued. "Not now." She smiled pleasantly. "Enjoy your gift first. I'll return to talk business when you've broken them in."

A wide grin broke across Mags' beautiful face, marring it like an open wound. "Of course. Thank you, boss. Thank you."

"That went pretty well." Jack stretched her arms and smiled at Gage. He grinned back, before noticing Bossanova trying to conceal a smirk, and turned away, his face hot.

"How's the rest of the park coming along, boss?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Will you give us a moment?" Bossanova said to Jack—an order dressed as a request. Jack didn't miss it, though, and nodded before strolling off towards the market. When she was out of earshot, Bossanova said in a low voice, "The Galactic Zone and Dry Rock Gulch are ours."

"The Galactic Zone and Dry Rock Gulch?" he repeated, goggling at her.

"Sarah helped a lot with the Galactic Zone. Found most of the pieces to get the robots over to our side again. After that, taking over the Gulch was relatively simple." She paused, leaving Gage to stew in his giddiness over the idea of their own personal robot army, and then added, "She knows I killed Oswald."

"Technically I killed him."

"Mm." Bossanova lowered her eyes to her feet. "She decided to return to the other slaves. She doesn't want anything to do with us anymore."

Gage frowned. Did all ghouls know each other or something? "Why does she care?"

"She stayed with him for a time before we found her. From what I can gather, they were friends. She took his death...very hard."

"How did she find out? Did you mention it, or…?"

"She went exploring and found his body. After I calmed her down, I told her everything leading up to my attack on him, except for your part. So almost the entire truth."

"Well that was stupid of you."

Bossanova shot him a fierce glare, but Gage shrugged. He didn't understand what the big deal was. So the kid liked someone they'd killed? The nut job tried to melt him with radiation. Gage told her this, unfazed by her deepening scowl, and rounded it off with, "The wasteland shits on everyone. Sooner the kid learns it, sooner she'll be able to deal with it. Personally, I don't get why you didn't just say I'd shot him and left it at that. She hates me anyway. Would have been a lot cleaner."

"Maybe." Bossanova seemed to deflate on the spot. "Maybe." She shook her head, straightened up, and said in a sharp voice, "Rest up. Go spend time at Jack's; whatever you do to recuperate. I'll meet you in the Grille in a couple of days to discuss our next move." And with that, she turned on her heel and stomped away.

Well, at least she hadn't skewered him with her sword.

Gage strolled off to the marketplace, mulling over Bossanova's reaction. It really would have been easier to just let the kid think he'd done all the work on Oswald. Would have kept Bossanova in the clear and stopped the little shit from ever getting too friendly with him. The obvious explanation suggested she was protecting his reputation with Sarah, but since he spent most of his time terrorising the kid, there wasn't much to protect in the first place.

Guilt. It had to be guilt.

He rolled his eye as he pushed the door open to the market and then scanned the sea of people for Jack. At the very least, if Bossanova ever did something that would piss him off, he could trust her to tell him the truth.

Gage paused. There was that trust again. Trusting her to confide in him, trusting her to do the "right thing"—whatever that was. And to his amazement, he didn't hate it. Instead it made him feel settled, like he'd found a piece of the world that was his to hold and own.

He flinched as someone elbowed him in the ribs and turned to see Jack by his side. At once his chest tightened, warmth flooding through him, and he smiled broadly at her. Then he remembered where he was and the raiders surrounding him, and quashed it quickly, giving her a nod instead. The grin on her lips was mischievous—she knew what he was trying to hide. He only hoped she understood why.

As they made to leave, a small figure in the crowd caught his eye—thin, bald, with peeling skin and a collar around her neck. Sarah glared at him from her little den amongst the other slaves. He blinked—her expression burned with a bold hatred far beyond her years, and Gage found he couldn't help but admire her backbone. No matter what the situation, no matter who she spoke to, the kid let someone know when she didn't like them.

Gage approached her.

She didn't wait for him to speak but spat out, "I know she killed Oswald. I know you were there."

He considered her for a moment. Her eyes were puffy and watery, the dirt on her cheeks streaked clean. Her little shoulders shook and shuddered with emotion, and the rasp in her voice trembled.

Gage shrugged. "So?"

"So?" The word exploded out of her as she jumped to her feet, pointing wildly at him, and he was glad the noise of the marketplace covered her dangerous outburst. "So? He was my friend!"

"And he tried to kill me. So ...I put a bullet in his head."

Sarah jerked back as if she'd been punched. She stared at him, mouth agape, her lips quivering. Finally she mouthed, "You?"

"Yep."

"But Mrs. Bossanova said—"

"Oh, yeah, she did stab him," Gage drawled, wondering why he cared enough to explain anything to a stupid kid, "because the asshole came at me. But she didn't kill him. I finished the job."

Fresh tears were falling now, her face screwed up in horrified grief.

Gage shrugged again. It was a hard lesson, but one she'd have to learn if she wanted to survive. "The world's a shitty place. Get the fuck over it."

"Enough." Jack grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away, leaving Sarah standing alone with the other slaves. She glanced back at the little girl, biting her lip, and then turned on him. "What the fuck was that, Gage?"

He pulled his arm free, glaring. "She needs to toughen up."

Jack opened her mouth to argue more, when a loud shriek made them both whirl back around. A Pack member had Sarah by the neck, lifting her bodily from the ground and licking his lips as he pressed a knife to her gut.

Gage's gun was in his hands and pointed at the raider's head faster than thought. "Let her go."

The marketplace—usually a loud, deafening place—went eerily silent. All eyes were on Gage as his brain suddenly caught up with the rest of him. Even Sarah looked startled.

What the fuck am I doing?

Too late now. Better run with it.

"Got a soft spot for the slaves, Gage?" he gloated, pushing the knife a little harder into Sarah's stomach, forcing a whimper.

"I don't give a shit about slaves," Gage shot back, keeping his eye fixed on the raider, itching for the trigger. "But I am protectin' the boss' personal property."

"Personal property?"

"She likes pack mules that can survive a bit of radiation." Gage paused for effect. "By all means, kill it, if you wanna explain to the overboss why you took her pet and get your fingers shoved down your throat. Otherwise, put—her—the—fuck—down. "

The raider paled, clearly remembering the display at Mason's lair. The knife moved away a little, but Sarah's feet still didn't touch the ground.

Gage set his finger on the trigger. "Now."

Sarah fell with a shriek and a bump, and the raider backed off at once, melting into the crowd.

"You going soft, Gage?" came a voice from somewhere in the rabble.

Gage lowered his weapon and snorted. "Come say that to my face, punk. I'll give you a bullet for your answer." He turned and directed the crowd at large. "I'm here to keep the boss happy, not assholes like you. Don't like it? Tough." Then he glared down at Sarah, who was panting on the ground while staring at him in disbelief. "Get back to work, you lil' shit!" he snarled.

Sarah jumped to her feet and scurried away, but not before he kicked out hard, catching her in the back and sending her flying out of sight. The crowd broke into jeering laughter and the usual chatter and babble of the market swiftly returned. Gage's racing heart settled—the damage had been repaired.

Jack said nothing as they strode from Nuka Town together, but when they hit the barren path leading to her brothel, she took his hand and gave it a little squeeze before letting go again. He caught her meaning all too clear, the gratitude a sweet salve for his confusion.

Long shadows stretched over the hills as they reached Jack's brothel, the sun throwing its fiery glow up in a final clash of golds, pinks, and oranges as it retired for the night. Gage squinted at the colours, wondering why he'd never bothered to appreciate the sky before. Always too much to do. Too many things to concentrate on. Those who relaxed ended up dead.

He flinched as Jack's soft lips brushed against his cheek, and he glanced around nervously. They were alone, and she smirked. "Thought I'd lost you there for a second. Daydreaming?"

"Nah," Gage grunted, irritated. "Jus' plannin' my next move."

"With Bossanova?"

"Yeah." If the boss wasn't bringing Jack in on their schemes, he had no plans to either. It was the boss' right to choose who to trust. However, Jack didn't ask anymore questions, but moved ahead and opened the front door to the brothel, holding it for him as he followed.

The stairs were a struggle. Each step dragged, his legs like lead, and it occurred to Gage how tired he was. He hadn't slept properly since his dip in the Quantum river—further attempts at sleep disturbed by a mix of Evelyn's complaining, keeping watch, and Jack clinging to him in the darkened office block.

The idea of holding her now tempted him more than anything else. Gage's mind drifted, remembering the weight of her, his fingers entwined in her hair as she lay against him, snoring slightly. Exhaustion pressed down on his body just as Jack's bedroom door came into sight. He stumbled through it after her, clumsily stripping off his armour and dumping it carelessly on the floor as she shut the door, anticipating the bed that awaited.

Jack took one look at him and smiled. "Too tired?"

He considered giving an excuse. Anything to make him seem less weak. But he didn't want her to think he'd lost interest, or that he wouldn't fulfill his promise on the carriage. Just...not right now. "I'm…" He broke off, stifling a yawn.

When he opened his eye again, Jack was sitting on the sofa, her legs spread wide. He frowned, uncertain. Not that he wasn't usually up for a bit of fucking, but the mood had thoroughly left him.

She patted the space between her legs. "Come sit down."

Gage didn't move, torn on what to do.

"I ain't gonna pounce on you. I can see you're not up for it and I can take no for an answer, y'know."

"Then what—?"

"I wanna return the favour. Hold you for a bit." She grinned. "You might even like it."

He remained rooted to the spot, panic ricocheting through him. Her...hold him? He glanced to the door nervously. What if someone saw? What if—?

"It's locked," Jack said gently, reading his mind. He turned back to her and she smiled. "I'm just offering. You can go to sleep in the bed if you want."

He did want to sleep. But not alone. Not while she was here.

Taking a slow breath, Gage edged towards her, sitting down straight backed in the spot she indicated. Behind him, he heard her giggle. She leaned forward and kissed his ear.

"Relax," she whispered. "Lean back against me." He arms slipped around his chest, and she pulled at his body. The movement wasn't forceful or demanding—it was a suggestion. A guide, if he wanted it. Gage glanced to the door again, straining his ears for someone—anyone—coming up the stairs.

Silence.

Trying to ignore the quickening of his heart, Gage gave in, lying awkwardly back, his upper body twisting at an odd angle to his feet planted firmly on the floor. After a couple of seconds, Jack nudged at his legs with her own, and he followed the hint and moved them so he was spread out on the sofa properly.

Jack sighed contentedly, one arm thrown lazily across his chest while the other began massaging the back of his head. Slowly—surely—Gage let himself relax, drinking in the strange sensation of being held. He was comfortable. Heavy. His body moved with her breathing, his eyes drooping as her fingers waltzed along his scalp, until finally he drifted off to sleep.

A/N: I have a few favourite chapters in this story. This is one of them.

How is everyone holding up? Hope you're all keeping healthy in the current climate! I'm releasing this early because I'm in work tomorrow and I'm going to be very busy during the current COVID-19 chaos (until I inevitably end up sick). Stay safe and I hope you enjoyed the chapter.