Layin' with the Devil

Bossanova called Gage for a private meeting three days later.

Even with their friendly punch-up—or as Bossanova called it, their 'moment of affectionate violence'—things hadn't been quite right since the big confrontation, which left Gage at a loss. He was hard pressed to think of a situation punching hadn't successfully resolved for him.

Both of them had been avoiding the Grille as much as possible, the times where they accidentally bumped into each other laced with a forced sort of politeness, before hastily parting ways again, edging around a bomb set to explode if they pissed each other off.

Gage didn't like it. Aside from hating the idea of being polite, he missed the way they used to be, missed the freedom to insult and challenge her, knowing she'd give it just as good in return. But then again, could he claim to be surprised? Bossanova put his neck on the line and he'd tried to kill her. It was a lot to bounce back from.

Still, Gage was certain they could. The killswitch in his pocket was a constant reminder of the power he suddenly held over her. It had occurred to him it might be a fake—just an old dud remote—but Gage sensed this wasn't the case. She obviously trusted him, and despite what had happened, he realised he still trusted her too. They just needed to get around the whole 'fight to the death' snag in their relationship somehow.

"And now it's your favourite segment: notes, announcements, and other shit." Gage watched as Bossanova's eyes flicked towards the old radio, her face screwing up with dislike at RedEye's voice. Gage suppressed a grin.

"Got this message from 'Anonymous'..." RedEye paused, the clear sound of shuffled papers filling the gap. "Surprised any of you stupid assholes can spell 'anonymous.'" Another pause. "Surprised I can read it." RedEye coughed and stammered, "A-anyway, a note from 'Anonymous', which says: 'Whoever's dumping bodies in the swan pond—thanks. Totally set the mood for…" He cleared his throat, his tone suddenly laced with disbelief, "...for a romantic evening...it really...paid off.'"

RedEye gave his longest pause yet.

"Damn, y'all are disgusting."

The image of him throwing body parts out of the Fizztop Grille's window after the Pack's failed assassination attempt flashed through Gage's mind. It must have gone through Bossanova's too because she caught his eye, and a second later they were both roaring with laughter. It was like the fight had never happened, and when they both finally settled, Gage realised he could look at her again without feeling like a massive asshole.

"Never knew we were playing wasteland cupid," Bossanova said, wiping tears from her eyes.

"The fuck is a cupid?" Gage said, still chuckling.

"Matchmaker. Rosy-cheeked. Kinda cute."

"Yeah, because I scream cute." He rolled his eye, sneering the last word.

"I dunno. I've noticed you're growing your hair out. Those lovely curls are adorable. Very angelic."

"Ah, fuck off," Gage snapped, deciding there and then he would shave his head again before the end of the day. He caught her wicked grin and after a beat returned it. Maybe they'd get back on track after all.

The smile slowly slid off Bossanova's face. "There was a specific reason I wanted to speak to you today. I need to discuss something with you, but…" She trailed off, looking worried.

"You're wonderin' how I'm gonna react?" Gage said, his heart sinking. He knew the reason she'd brought him here today couldn't be a good one, but her anxious expression set him on edge. Bossanova didn't openly flaunt her concerns when she thought she had a grip on them. Whatever it was, it was bad.

"In a manner of speaking," Bossanova said, clearly uncomfortable now. She teetered on the brink of the topic, and then blurted out, "Jack's been consorting with Nisha."

Gage blinked. "She's...con-what now?"

"Consorting," Bossanova repeated, and when Gage continued to stare blankly at her, elaborated. "Meeting her in secret at Fizztop Mountain."

His immediate reaction of 'Why didn't you just fucking say that?' was swiftly stifled by the implications behind Bossanova's claim. Gage stared at her, his mouth hanging open as the feeling of insects crawling beneath his skin swept over his body. Jack had no reason to meet with Nisha. Unless…but no. Gage shook his head to himself, irritated. He wasn't going down this path again. He trusted her.

Didn't he?

"She wouldn't be that much of a dumbass," Gage snapped, rubbing his arms to try and banish the prickling sensation.

"She might with the right incentive," Bossanova replied, her brow furrowing. "Jack has already been passing information about Nisha and her Disciples to me for some time. We agreed upon it."

"If you already knew, then what's the problem?" He paused, a splinter of irritation piercing him. "Wait, you've been putting her in harm's way again?"

"No!" Bossanova looked alarmed at the very thought. "No, Gage, I swear, I would never ask Jack to do something like that. But that's precisely where the problem lies." She bit her lip and folded her arms tight across her chest. "The first time we went to that brothel, I made a deal with Jack: a bigger cut of the loot, and she would provide me with all the secrets spilled by her clients. That's how I've known exactly what's been going on throughout Nuka World all this time. And for the most part, it's been accurate. But…"

"She didn't tell you she's been going to Nisha," Gage finished for her, his throat tight.

Bossanova nodded. "It throws everything she's passed to me into question, at least about Nisha. For all we know, Nisha's been dictating what information to give me, allowing me to play right into her hands."

"How did you find this out?"

"Sarah," Bossanova said simply.

"Sarah?" Gage repeated, the familiar rush of anger swelling up inside him. "We're gonna trust a kid?" The prickles in his skin became hot and needling, a hard pressure pushing into the front of his skull. He didn't know why he was so pissed at the idea of Sarah being the one to tell. Maybe because she was already a constant thorn in his side. Maybe because it was easier to dismiss her than accept she might be telling the truth.

Bossanova nodded, looking grim. "Sarah told me about Jack after she found out about the slaves being released. She wants the slaves released, knows Jack is instrumental in this happening. But she also believes we will come to great harm if Jack is working with Nisha. She has no reason to lie."

"Yeah, unless she wants us to do something stupid to Nisha and cause an all out war," Gage threw back, the panic starting to bubble up in his chest. He didn't believe what he was saying, but he needed something to cling to— anything —to stop him losing Jack. "Ever thought of that?"

"Telling me about Jack puts Jack at risk," Bossanova replied calmly, her face twisted in an expression of pity that Gage despised. "Sarah knows what I'm capable of—what you're capable of. She wouldn't do that without good reason. She's telling the truth."

Bossanova outlined everything Sarah witnessed. Jack had been 'keeping an eye on them': handing their weaknesses, their movements, and any plans in the works over to Nisha. But the worst of all, Bossanova saved for last.

"According to Sarah," she said, eyeing him warily now, "Nisha suggested Jack...well...seduce you. Get back in your good books after your fight. And Jack agreed."

Gage said nothing, suddenly numb. Jack's face flickering through his head, her face ripped with anguish as she told him she loved him. The way she'd set down the gun and held him, her body shaking with relief. Had she been lying all along? Was he so fucking gullible to think someone like Jack would want someone like him?

Or maybe he'd just wanted to believe.

Gage dropped into a nearby chair, gripping his hair with his hands. He didn't know how much more of this shit he could take. After a moment he croaked, "How long has this been going on?"

"I'm...I'm not sure," Bossanova admitted. "It's a relatively recent development—"

"God, just fuckin' talk plain, for fuck's sake," Gage snarled, massaging his aching head with his knuckles, his eye shut tight.

"I think it's happened around the time she thought you killed the slaves," Bossanova said sharply, losing her patience with him. "I didn't get a chance to tell her you'd lied for a while, and when I did she seemed...strange. Standoffish. I just assumed she wasn't sure if I was telling the truth, but now…" Bossanova sighed. "Might be now you've kissed and made up she's regretting it but isn't in a position to refuse Nisha. Or…"

"Don't say it," Gage murmured, digging his knuckles in harder.

" Or," Bossanova went on, sounding as if each word cost her a great deal, "she was tasked with winning you over a lot earlier on, just to keep you in Nuka World for when Nisha was ready to make her move."

Gage opened his eye again, lowering his hand as he looked up at Bossanova. "That makes no fuckin' sense. Jack's had plenty of opportunity to kill me for Nisha when we've been alone." He shivered. Too many. "And why would she agree to help with the slaves if she was plannin' on betrayin' us?"

"Helping me helps keep her in my inner circle," Bossanova replied. "Which is exactly what Nisha would want. No good having a spy if they can't get a foothold into their secrets. And as for why Jack hasn't tried to kill you herself...Nisha likes to play with her food." She stared at him. "You know it as well as I do. I've no doubt I'm high up on the list, but Nuka World was your idea—she wants you all for herself. Denying Nisha that pleasure would be suicide."

Gage opened his mouth and shut it again. He wanted to argue, but had nothing to throw at her. An idea clawed his way into his mind, pushing back again Bossanova. "Jack was the one who ended things first." The pleading note made him cringe, but he pushed on regardless. "She wouldn't do that if she was supposed to be playin' friendly with Nisha."

"But Sarah only saw Jack meet with Nisha after you fell out," Bossanova reminded him.

"Okay but," Gage said, getting desperate now, "when I went to her at the brothel—after you an' me, y'know…" He coughed awkwardly, quickly glossing over the fact he'd tried to kill her. "She didn't want me there. Didn't want anything to do with me. If Jack's on Nisha's orders to win me over, she'd have been all over me."

Even as he said this, he remembered the way Jack's face fell as he arrived, as if steeling herself for the inevitable while she led him up to her bedroom. Her attitude only changed when she realised he didn't want to fuck her.

Bossanova studied him and then, as if reading his mind, said, "Would you have believed her if she'd just taken you back straight away?"

Gage wanted to say yes. He really did. But he knew that was bullshit. "No."

She stared off into the distance, deep in contemplation, before snapping her attention back to him. "There might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this," Bossanova said, tapping her foot agitatedly on the floor.

"Like what?"

"Jack might be mining information on her own, feeding Nisha falsities while pretending she's on her side."

"Without telling you?"

"Maybe." Bossanova frowned. "Jack could have realised I wouldn't let her get so close. It's an extremely dangerous move, allowing Nisha to put a name to Jack's face, rather than just hearing about the exploits of the brothel through her gang."

Gage said nothing, staring at his knees. He didn't know what to think. On the one hand, putting herself in danger to get the dirt on Nisha sounded exactly like something Jack would do. But the timing of it, the things Sarah heard, the way Jack just accepted him back after everything that happened—it all fit together a little too well.

Bossanova sighed, walking to Gage and laying a hand on his shoulder, which he didn't bother to shake off. "Look," she said, her voice full of that hateful pity again, "I haven't had the chance to speak about this with Jack yet, because I don't want to give the Disciples the heads up before I set some contingencies in place."

"Right." His throat felt too tight to say anything else.

"Jack might be doing this for our benefit," Bossanova went on. "But until we're sure of that, don't tell her what we've discussed. It is essential Nisha doesn't know we know, otherwise she might turn on us before we're ready." Bossanova let her hand slide away. "I want to wait for the right moment to confront Jack, because if this whole thing is innocent, it needs to be handled with care to ensure I don't lose her support...or mess things up between you two." She gave a little nod in his direction.

"And if it isn't innocent?" Gage asked, looking up at her.

Bossanova didn't answer.

He returned to staring at his knees. "Jus'...let me know first, before you do anything. Let me speak to her. Give me that much."

Her hand returned to his shoulder, squeezing it tight.

Gage sat in the shade of Cappy's Cafe, puffing on a smoke, spent cigarette butts littered around his feet. Once or twice other raiders tried to approach him—mostly Pack, who took issue with the fact he'd knocked one of them on their ass after his fight in the Fizztop Grille, but they backed off with a few choice sharp words. The Operators ignored him entirely, but the Disciples lurked in the peripherals of his remaining eye, all intent hidden behind their masks as they followed his every move.

Gage didn't care. He stared off into the distance, seeing nothing, his mind preoccupied by thoughts of Jack. The paranoia had come back full force, dominating him and demanding he take action against her. Gage didn't know what to do—his skittishness always served him well, allowing him to root out threats and put them down before they did him harm, but now it felt like this would be a mistake.

Anger bubbled away moodily in the base of his stomach, curdling his need to cut Jack off. Gage promised he would try harder with her, do his best to trust her the way she trusted him, and yet here he was at the first sign of trouble, looking for an excuse to turn on her. His promises were normally meaningless, the same as any raider's should be, but it was different with Jack.

Gage was torn between following his gut instinct, or to go speak to her and find out for himself. He'd also told Bossanova he wouldn't say a word to Jack, but if it wasn't resolved soon, the damage would be irreversible.

Gage took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked it away, making up his mind. He needed to see Jack. Not to tell her what he knew, but just to judge her behaviour for himself. If Jack was only pretending she gave a damn about him, surely he'd be able to pick up on it if he knew what to look for?

As he walked, the Disciples moved with him, keeping their distance but making no effort to hide their presence either. Gage resisted glancing over his shoulder. Wary he may be, but he'd deny them the pleasure of his apprehension, whatever the cost. Nisha wanted him for herself, and that alone should be enough to keep him safe. For now.

Dread swirled around him like a swarm of cazadors as he left Nuka Town, the Disciples still on his heels.

They didn't follow Gage into the brothel, lingering a few feet from the threshold and staring at him as he slipped inside. As the door closed behind him with a snap, he let out a long sigh of relief, rubbing at his eyes. Though he'd rather have his remaining eye cut out than admit it, the Disciples gave him the creeps.

"Hey, Eth," Gage said as he walked through the waiting area, spotting the wiry old woman sitting at the reception desk. "Jack in?"

He'd known Ethel almost as long as he'd known Jack. When they'd first met, she'd been distrustful of him, outright telling him she expected him to stick a knife in Jack when no one was looking. They'd almost gotten as far as a fight before Jack put her foot down, and over time, Ethel learned to back off. He liked her. She had a spine, like most of Jack's people did.

"Yeah," Ethel said, lighting up a cigarette and grinning as he approached. "Glad you two finally made up. She can be a right bitch when she's pissed off." Ethel jerked her head in the direction of the stairwell. "Takin' a nap as far as I know. Sure she won't mind a certain someone disturbin' her." She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

Gage forced a laugh, thanked her, and made his way up the stairs. He remembered the last time he'd come this way, clinging to the bannister and slowly bleeding out. Jack had used a stimpak on him then, probably saving his life. Was that because she cared, or because she was keeping him alive for Nisha?

Her bedroom door was locked when he reached it. Gage dug into his pocket, pulling out the key Jack gave him a few days ago and fitted it into the lock. As far as he knew, none of her people had a key to her room, so when it actually worked, he was surprised. Once again doubts about what Bossanova said flooded his thoughts, but Gage pushed them aside, turning the handle and walking into the room.

The curtains were drawn, the lights off. Gage could see a lone figure in her bed, could hear her deep breathing. She slept far too well for the wasteland. What if someone had managed to get the key off him and come to kill her? What if he'd decided Bossanova was right and took things into his own hands? Ethel clearly wasn't doing her fucking job properly, just letting him walk up like this.

"Jack?" he called softly, slightly guilty he was waking her.

Jack sat bolt upright, gun pointed at him, blinking blearily, her hair stuck up all over the place. "Who the fuck—?"

She paused as she stared at him, and for a moment Gage forgot the entire reason he was here. He grinned at her, wanting to mess up her hair even more, and said, "It's me, asshole."

"Gage?" Jack lowered her gun, rubbed her eyes, and blinked at him again. Her face split into a wide smile. She half jumped, half fell from the bed, her legs briefly tangled up in the sheets, and then ran over to him. His armour got in the way, and she clicked her tongue impatiently, pulling at the straps to loosen it so she could reach him properly, almost dragging it off him single-handedly before dumping it with a loud bang on the floor and throwing her arms around his neck.

Gage gripped her tight, closing his eye as he breathed in the smell of her. "Hey."

Jack didn't move for a second, apparently drinking in his presence the same way he was enjoying hers. Had he really been so distant that him turning up unannounced got this reaction? Finally she drew back, beaming at him. "Didn't think I'd see you again so soon. Squared things off with Bossanova yet?"

Gage shrugged, his talk with Bossanova crashing to the forefront of his mind at the mere mention of her name. "Yeah, sorta. Shit's still a bit awkward, but we ain't tried to kill each other again, so…" He suddenly became very aware of how close Jack was to him, how quickly she'd worked to get his armour off, and moved back a little.

Jack frowned. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," Gage said, his voice taking on a horribly cheerful note. He winced, aware how fake it sounded, and tried to smile. He needed to act as normal as possible if he was going to figure out whether she was pretending or not.

Jack's brow furrowed deeper, and she took a step towards him. Without thinking, Gage edged back, feeling exposed without his armour. A pang of unease cut through him as her face fell. What if she'd changed her mind about delivering him to Nisha? What if she killed him now?

But she just lowered her gun, left it on the bed. Why would she do that if—?

"Y'know," Jack said, bringing him back to her with a bump, "I thought after our talk you might last longer than three days before acting like an ass again." She wrapped her arms around herself, her features solidifying from hurt into anger. "Or am I just a fucking idiot for thinking you could stick to anything that isn't killing or caps?"

"No," Gage said, his stomach lurching. "No, it's not that at all."

"Then what?" Jack snapped, glowering at him. "What are you keeping from me?"

It was this more than anything that pushed Gage over the edge. Him, keeping things from her? She was one to fucking talk. His promise not to tell Jack flitted briefly through his mind before he quashed it. Raider promises meant nothing. Bossanova should know that by now.

"You've been meeting with Nisha in secret," Gage said, scowling at her. "The boss told me. Discussin' how you've been spyin' on us. How you...how…" He swallowed, his throat tight again. "How you wanted to get back in my good books jus' so you could keep telling Nisha what I'm up to."

Jack stood in stunned silence. She stared at him, mouth open, her beautiful dark eyes wide in horror. She slowly let go of herself, unable to look away from him and whispered, "You don't believe…?"

Gage shrugged, dropping his gaze to his feet.

"Gage, no." She stepped towards him, and again he drew back, glancing over her, searching for a weapon. When he met her eye, he saw the stricken look in her paling face, her lips trembling.

"I have been speaking to Nisha," she said, a slight shake in her voice. "But it's not what you think."

He watched her for a moment as she twisted her hands together, still staring at him. "Oh yeah?"

"Everything I told Nisha," Jack said, her voice higher than usual, "was either bullshit or old news. Just enough to keep her thinking I was helping her, but nothing she could have used against you."

"Why do it in the first place?" Gage snarled. "Why couldn't you just stick to the boss' plan and pass the gossip from the brothel?"

Jack winced. "The boss told you that, huh?"

"Yeah." He folded his arms, eye darting to his armour on the floor. Too close to Jack. Not enough time to get it back on.

Jack turned to see what he was looking at and clenched her jaw. "The Disciples are a lot more tight-lipped than the other two gangs. Don't blame 'em really, with Nisha's reputation. Either way, I was getting fuck all with the boss' method, so I decided to be a little more daring. And it's a good thing I did—all the info about the recruitment Nisha has been doing, the weapons, the general shitty mood in Fizztop Mountain—that's come from me. I don't think it will be too long before Nisha finally plays her cards."

"But once you'd started getting good info, why didn't you tell the boss?"

Jack shook her head grimly. "I knew she'd disapprove, try to stop me. She was unhappy at me fixin' up the collars myself, but I figured I was already playing with fire."

Gage glared. "That's the stupidest fuckin' thing I've ever heard. Why would you do that?"

"For you." She moved towards him again, her hand outstretched. He flinched on the spot and she hesitated, letting her arm drop. "Gage, the way Nisha talks about you is obscene. If she gets her hands on you…" Jack's voice wavered. "I couldn't live with myself if...if…"

Gage said nothing, a fierce battle raging in his head. Everything she was saying had to be a lie. His gut told him as much, and listening to his gut had kept him alive ever since Connor. She was perfectly positioned to sell him out to Nisha in a heartbeat, right alongside the boss.

But...this was Jack. The one person he'd been able to sleep soundly next to throughout the night, tell anything and everything, laugh and joke with, be weak in front of. To trust so goddamn completely.

Maybe it was all of this that allowed her to play him so well for Nisha.

Jack inched ever closer. "I would never put you in harm's way."

Gage stayed rooted to the spot, glaring at her. "And what Nisha said about seducin' me, getting back in my good books?" he croaked, his heart hammering against his chest as he teetered on the edge of indecision.

She shook her head. "I didn't take you back for Nisha. I took you back for me, because I love you, and because...I think you love me too, even if you don't know how to say it."

Jack reached out to him again, and this time he fought the urge to back off, waiting. Slowly she cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs gently caressing his skin, trailing his lips and jaw as she gazed imploringly at him.

Love…?

Gage shut his eye, closing off everything except the feel of her touch. He'd never had time for love, didn't really understand the value of it. Sure, the concept had been explained to him in corny songs—some bullshit about hearts singing and happy feelings or whatever other useless crap kept the sheep from just popping some jet and overdosing—but none of it fit with Gage's view of the world. Until now.

Jack stirred something deep and warm within him. The feeling was beyond words, beyond thought and reason, driving him to say and do things he shouldn't. Her presence filled him with a glow, her absence leaving the world that little bit darker. The memory of his lie about the slaves made his stomach twist in shame. He'd hurt her badly that day, and had no excuse other than his own malice. Somehow that didn't feel good enough anymore.

No, Gage didn't understand love the way others clearly did. But she made him want to be better— do better. Not for himself, but for her. To keep her happy and chase away her demons. If that was love, then yeah. He loved her.

"Please," Jack begged, her eyes bright. He snapped back to the present, looking at her, his heart sinking at her despair. "Please believe me. You have to believe me. Think of everything I've done for you since we got here." He could feel her breath tickling his face, the anguish in her features tearing him apart. "Please. Please."

Gage let out a long sigh, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles. His gut was screaming for him to get away from her. But she was pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks, her arms sliding around his neck as she pleaded softly, her desperation killing him.

A few days ago Gage would have shoved her off, letting impulse guide his actions, but he wanted this to work, to stop her hurt, at any cost. To prove he trusted her, even if it meant going against every shred of instinct he possessed. He couldn't lose her again.

Gage lifted his arms as he gazed down at her and pulled her close, wrapping his fingers through her hair, her warm body scalding on his skin. "I believe you," he murmured into her ear, unsure if he actually did.

Jack let out a strangled sob and buried her head into his shoulder, gripping him tight. Gage rested his head against hers. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe he'd live to regret it. But that was far in the future. Right now, he had Jack.

Bossanova was cooking up a storm by the time he'd returned to the Grille. He'd left the brothel the back way to avoid the Disciples following him again. Judging from the thick scales on the huge slab of meat on the counter, Bossanova had actually done what she'd threatened before they'd gone for round two in Safari Adventure and had the last of the dead gatorclaws butchered and preserved in salt for later.

"Thought you could do with a pick-me-up," Bossanova said, turning over a piece of meat in one pan and tossing a blend of chopped vegetables sizzling away in another. A few minutes later she slid both onto a clean plate and passed it to Gage, before sipping away at a cup of coffee as she turned off the stove.

Gage grunted his thanks and tucked in, his mind whirling. Had he really done the right thing, telling Jack? Now he was away from her influence, the worries had come crawling back, clawing at his insides, damning his actions. All his life he'd spent being cautious, holding people at arm's length, just to ignore his instinct because Jack got a bit tearful? Gage shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hoping the decision wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

"So, where did you go before?" Bossanova asked, smiling pleasantly over her coffee cup. "I took a little stroll, but I didn't see you anywhere."

Gage swallowed, setting down his knife and fork. He hesitated. He didn't want to lie, but she probably wouldn't be very happy to hear he'd gone to Jack's straight away either. Already her brow was creasing into a frown as he dawdled with his response. Gage cleared his throat, buying himself some more time. "Well…"

A loud blast outside drowned his answer, shaking the Grille and sending a plume of smoke up into the sky. Gunfire immediately followed it, along with screams and shouts.

"What the hell?" Bossanova exclaimed, running to the window and peering down below. Gage joined her and went cold. The Disciples were running amok in the streets, stabbing everyone they could reach, while the Pack and Operators fought back, the slaves running wildly in all directions.

The doors to the stairwell burst open, and a slave Gage recognised as Chip staggered in, nursing a bloody wound in his side. "Boss! Nisha's turned on us!"

"Where did you go before?" Bossanova repeated, her voice taking on a dangerous quality as she looked from Chip to Gage. The expression on her face was one of pure fury, directed straight at him, and Gage felt himself recoil slightly, his cheeks burning with shame.

"Jack's," he said faintly. A strange, numb sensation was rushing over him, deadening the sounds of the battle.

"And what did you talk about while you were there?"

When Gage didn't answer, Bossanova spat, "Did you tell her?"

"I—"

"After I specifically told you not to?"

He paused. There was no way he could lie about this. The truth was erupting up around them in the town below. "Yeah, I did."

"For the love of God, why?" she exploded, throwing her coffee cup down with such force it shattered, making him jump and causing Chip to scurry from the room in fright. "Why, after every warning I gave you, did you go straight to her and tell her? I thought you were smart! I thought you knew when to keep your mouth shut!"

"I just…" He hated this. He hated Bossanova's anger, her disappointment. It was almost as bad as the sudden pain in his chest, so sharp his throat felt like it was closing. "I needed answers from her. I needed to know if it was true, or if...if she was just using me."

Bossanova pinched the bridge of her nose cavity, eyes squeezed shut. When she spoke again, it was through gritted teeth. "Gage, you've spent the last few months being nothing but a callous ass with the emotional capacity of a sieve. Could you have just, I dunno, kept up the trend until we knew she was a traitor?"

Gage turned away, leaning on the windowsill, trying to control his breathing. It looked like he had his answer, one way or another. He gripped the sill tight, his entire body aching with the grief of the truth.

Bossanova stormed over, shouting something else he didn't hear, before standing next to him and glaring. Then her expression faltered as he turned and looked at her, her anger breaking on him like glass on rock.

Gage bowed his head, feeling stupider by the second, the deep undercurrent of Jack's betrayal cutting him where he could not bleed. She'd played him good. Textbook. But despite it, he was still standing there, hoping, praying it was an unhappy coincidence.

He knew it was not.

Gage glanced up at Bossanova to see her face twisted by rage and mingled with pity. "I'm—"

"I don't need an apology," Bossanova snapped, glaring at him. "I need to know you're not going to lose your head like this again while I clean up your goddamn mess." She placed her hand on her sword, turned on her heel, and stalked towards the door. Then she stopped, glancing back at him. "Are you with me?"

Gage nodded without hesitation, pulled the killswitch from his pocket, and tossed it to Bossanova. She caught it with her other hand and blinked at him, her eyes wide.

"I'm with you," he said, his voice as hollow as his insides, unable to even bring himself to anger. When this was all said and done...he didn't know. He didn't know anymore. Gage picked his rifle up off the coffee table, and shook his head. "If we get hold of Jack, I want to speak to her first." He said this to his feet, not wanting to see any of her wretched sympathy. "But if she's smart, she'll have bailed in the chaos."

"No doubt," Bossanova replied coolly. Gage glanced up at her to see she looked angry again. But not at him. For him. "We'll find her. If I have to drag her back here screaming all the way from the Commonwealth, I'll do it." Her black eyes were pools of molten tar, boiling with rage. "No one does this to you and gets away with it."

Gage stared at her. And in that moment, he knew it. Whatever happened, Bossanova had his back. He licked his lips. "You...you're the real deal, you know that?"

Bossanova blinked, startled. "What?"

He hesitated, suddenly nervous. This wasn't the time or the place. They had shit to do, people to kill. He could hear the sound of the fighting outside escalating. But if this went tits up, if one of them...if the worst happened...he wanted her to know.

"You're the real deal," Gage repeated, his heart hammering. God, she was going to think he was a soft fucking idiot. But then again, she liked that, didn't she? "I don't mean to make things weird or nothing. I don't normally trust no one beyond how useful they are to me. But you…" He swallowed, his face burning. "I'm jus' sayin'...I finally found somebody worth fightin' with. Fightin' for."

He coughed awkwardly as she continued to stare, her mouth hanging open. He wished someone would burst in and shoot him, to save him the fucking embarrassment.

Bossanova walked over to him, a peculiar look in her eye. Gage tensed, wondering if she'd reached the end of her tether at last, when she stopped in front of him, a small smile playing around her lips.

She reached down and clasped his hand tight, dragging him into an embrace, made only slightly difficult by his armour. Bossanova clapped him on the back, and after a moment, Gage relaxed, squeezing her hand and returning the gesture.

"You stink," she said fondly, drawing away from him a little. "When we're done, you're getting a bath even if I have to shoot you first."

"After this shit, I think I owe you big time anyway." Gage chuckled at the thought. "You wanna waste your favour on a bath, you can have it." He released her, feeling awkward while she laughed, and he inclined his head towards the door. "Wanna put these fuckers down for good?"

Bossanova grinned as another explosion sounded below. "Never thought you'd ask." She held the killswitch high, did the complicated flip-twist-bop sequence, ruining the sinister effect somewhat, and pressed the last button with her thumb. It let out a shrill beeping noise before falling silent.