Downtown Boston was quiet in the mornings and Hancock was grateful for the lack of excitement beyond their encounter with the raiders. Somehow, they even managed to escape the notice of a couple of hungry-looking mongrels hanging out near a heap of trash only yards from the entrance to Goodneighbor. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a trouble-free trip across the 'Wealth.
The neon signs glowed faintly in the dim light of dawn and reflected off of the mostly rusted corrugated metal sheeting that made up the majority of the entrance. Her eyes landed first on the ammunition and provisions shops. An assaultron was handing over a huge gun to an enthusiastic, spastic ghoul who sped off almost immediately. Next door, a female ghoul was cleaning the counter of her shop with an expression that read 'bored to death'. As they made their way deeper into town someone called out a greeting to Hancock, who acknowledged it with a cheeky grin and a tip of his tricorn.
A group of what appeared to be guards roamed the streets. They were nearly all ghouls, dressed in suits with matching fedoras, and touting tarnished tommy guns. Curious stares and hushed whispers accompanied them as they walked. "Kill or Be Killed?" She read aloud from the neon sign winking back at her.
"You'll have plenty of time for a tour tomorrow." He winked at her. He wound his way through the thin crowd to the stall that was being manned by the female ghoul. "How's the prettiest ghoul in Goodneighbor?"
Daisy leaned forward with her palms steady on her counter. "Hancock, you old flirt, good to see ya." Her voice was coarse on the ears, but motherly in tone. "What can I get ya?" Her curious gaze landed on Bet, who had hidden behind Hancock. "Who's this?"
Hancock hauled Bet forward and clapped an arm around her shoulders. "One of Nora's strays." Humor colored his tone, but his firm grip on her disallowed her subtle attempt at retreat. "Vaultie, too."
Daisy examined her with an intense stare. She cocked her head the side. "Shy, hun? Is it the face? Don't worry, I promise I won't take a bite outta ya, sister." She snickered at Bet's horrified protests against that being the case.
The young woman was blushing deeply and stuttering until she managed to force out her words. "No, I swear that isn't it. I..I would never…I mean I'm just really bad at talking to people." She sighed. "Honestly, I'm not that great with people in general."
"It's all good." Daisy waved her hand dismissively.
"We're headin' up to the Third Rail in a bit to drop by Magnolia's blowout." Hancock explained. "I was hopin' you'd have somethin' special for her." Daisy reached beneath her shop counter and withdrew a stack of clothing. Bet's eyes went wide with confusion and he smirked. "Guess I forgot to tell ya about that. My bad, babe. Pick somethin' out on me." He honestly wanted her to have a good time in his town. For no reason he could articulate, he found himself wishing his new protégé would like Goodneighbor well enough to stay.
"Dresses, right? Ya seem like a dress girl." Bet nodded as she looked through her options. Her hands hesitated on a midnight blue sequined number, but she passed over it. A beautiful dress like that was too extravagant. Instead, she chose a modest cream-colored dress. She could acknowledge that it was a bit prudish, but a combination of bashfulness and wallflower syndrome forced her hand.
It wasn't terribly expensive to add a pair of matching heels. Thankfully, they were not stilettos, but the heels were still pretty thin. Altogether, it took up about fifty caps. Hancock led the way into the State House through a side door. Guards were stationed every few feet inside the place, but the most heavily armored one was leaning by an open door with a lit cigarette pinched between her fingers. She put it out in a nearby ashtray and followed them inside. "Who's the new chick?" She scowled down at Bet with eyes that could pierce souls.
Bet swallowed hard and offered her hand to the bigger woman. She was mentally begging the woman not to eat her. "M-my name's B-bet…n-nice to meet you."
Hancock's raspy laugh surprised her bad enough to make her jump. "No need to scare the bejeezus outta the new girl, Fahre." He elbowed Fahrenheit playfully. "She needs a place to stay, so she's sleepin' here for the night." Bet tried to protest it, but he pretended not to hear a word she said until she gave up. Not only had he bought her a new set of clothes for practically no reason, he'd just opened up his home to her. Bet had never before met anyone who'd do such a thing for a complete stranger. He heaved her pack onto the floor and took off his own bag of supplies. "Go ahead and relax. You'll need to get some sleep before we head down to The Third Rail tonight."
He motioned for her to sit down. "You really don't have to-" She began, but he cut her off.
"I know I don't have to." He popped a berry mentat in his mouth, the first he'd had in several hours, and closed his eyes to relax. "I don't hear you relaxing, sweetheart." He crooned from the other side of the room.
She sat down on the worn, yet clean, couch. "Why are you doing this for me?" She panicked when he opened his eyes a smidge to lazily observe her. "I mean, I'm grateful, but I've never met anyone who would-"
He turned over onto his side to face her whilst remaining reclined on the couch. He propped his head up with his hand. "Look, I did it as a favor to Nora. She's a good friend and I owe her a lot. Now that I've seen you're at least somewhat capable of handling yourself, I'm not unwilling to help give you a leg up." He saw her cringe and decided it was best to elaborate before he scared her off. "Not charity, babe. No, you're smart, and I can see that. I'm letting you stay here until ya find your niche." He watched her react to this piece of news and was surprised when her face lit up; he'd expected her to back down.
"Really?" She bit her lip and appeared indecisive. "I don't want to bother you."
He waved away her concerns. "It would take something pretty shitty to bother me." He smiled deviously at her. "Or some really loud sex…but only if I can't join in." She reddened, but she couldn't break eye contact with him. There was something about the way his eyes glittered whenever he was teasing her that was rather entrancing. He looked away first to grab a beer and chuck it at her. "You can drink, right?"
She studied it curiously and then grinned back at him. "Like a fish." It took him by surprise to see her spring a bottle opener from her pocket to expertly pry open the bottle. She took one sip and winced. It was godawful, but she forced herself to not gag. She chugged the rest of it as quickly as she could to avoid actually tasting it. She couldn't help longing for her grandad's awesome flavored moonshine instead of gulping down something that tasted like the alcoholic equivalent of Brahmin piss.
Over the course of the day, they learned a little more about each other. She told him a little about the incident that had finally convinced her that leaving the vault was the best thing for her. She could only bring herself to give a summary of what had happened and the entire time she had this abandoned puppy-dog expression that made him really want to punch something. "It was my fault, honestly." She admitted with a voice full of self-loathing. "Every time I'd see him with another girl…I'd worry that I wasn't good enough for him anymore. I'd make myself sick over it at times. I really think that's what drove us apart. He wasn't completely innocent because he loved flirting with other girls to make me jealous, but I think we weren't very good together in general." She sighed wistfully. "In any case, it still hurts so much because we'd been with each other for several years. I wasn't used to living without him in my life." She gritted her teeth. "I guess I'm still trying to adjust to life without him, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try."
He wasn't so great at relationship advice, so he mostly just kept his trap shut and listened. After all, he'd spent the majority of his younger days breaking hearts and chasing tail, and after becoming a ghoul, his sexual prospects dried up right along with his skin. Sure, his charisma charmed a few here and there into his bed and there were others who had simply been curious, but he definitely hadn't enjoyed much of a love life in a couple of years. He told her a few scant details about himself to fill in the gaps of conversation; he used to live in Diamond City and he'd only been a ghoul for a decade. It was all minor stuff, but she didn't seem to mind.
The day passed quickly and, before either one realized how much time had passed, the sun had set. Hancock got up from the couch and stretched. "We should head out soon. You can change in here, but no promises that I won't peek." He smirked and turned his back to her.
After she was finished changing, he led her back out the side door and straight into the town square. A guard stood just outside the door to the bar which had formerly been the Boston State House Station. Aghast, Bet found herself greatly impressed by the innovation of the people post-War.
Another ghoul guard greeted them on their way down. "The Third Rail is welcome to all newcomers." He said to her gruffly.
Upon beginning their descent into the bar, Bet caught a strong whiff of cheap perfume, cigarettes, and homemade booze. It wasn't half bad if you ignored the mild undercurrent of body odor and vomit. A sultry voice cut through the haze of smoke and jet fumes, and she noticed a beautiful woman swaying to the sound of the music and her own voice. The lady, who was done up in a sequined blood-red dress, had a kind of beauty that could only be described as hypnotic. Her eyes lingered on the woman's bare legs and delicate feet slipped into matching sequined ballet flats. She tapped Hancock's shoulder to get his attention. "Who's that?"
"Magnolia, the Third Rail's most beautiful flower." He followed Bet's appreciative gaze. "Hmm, I hadn't pinned ya as batting for the same team." He commented with a bit of surprise.
The young woman froze and glanced quickly away. "I'm bisexual, actually. Is that a problem here?" She was very much used to disapproval in her old life, but she had hoped that things would be different up here.
"Fuck, no." He clapped her on the shoulder. "That's your business." He gave her a little push towards the stage. "Don't be a wallflower, go over there and ask her if you can buy her a drink." In the meantime, he settled himself onto a sagging black couch to make casual conversation with a couple of fellow junkies.
Bet hesitated and bit her lip. Flirting and dating had never come very easy, especially back in the vault. People used to make very harsh judgments about your character if they learned you weren't a cookie-cutter specimen. She couldn't help, but worry even with Hancock's reassurance that the Commonwealth was not as concerned with anyone's sex life as people had been in Vault 81. A glance over at her mayoral acquaintance was rewarded with an encouraging hand gesture. Flustered, she made up her mind to just do it.
Magnolia was hitting up the Mr. Handy who worked the bar. She looked up at Bet, who was suddenly very aware that she hadn't had any semblance of a bath for days. "Um…hi." She said a little too brightly, wincing at the high, nervous pitch in her voice. "I..uh..heard you singing. It was beautiful." She waved over the bartender. "Could I buy you a drink?"
The older woman smiled widely. "Of course, but only if I can do the same for you." She purred. Bet nodded, fairly sure that the color of her own face was somewhere between the shade of Magnolia's dress and the lady's blood-red lipstick. "You came in with Hancock," She noted. "You must be really something if Hancock took a shine to you."
Bet plopped some caps down on the counter, which the Mr. Handy swept away and replaced with another of the dusty beers that Magnolia had been nursing. "Not really, I'm pretty sure he just wanted to do Nora a favor because she's….in a difficult spot right now."
"No, I can see it." Magnolia rebutted. "He's been sneaking glances over at us ever since you walked up. He's got that funky grin plastered all over his face." The bartender came back over after tending to another patron and asked what Bet would like.
"May I ask what is in stock?" She inquired politely, eager to make a good impression on the subject of her minor crush. He offered the homebrewed beer that was the house special and she decided to have that. When she took her first sip, however, she made a face. This was nothing like what her grandfather had taught her to make. It tasted just as bad as the beer she'd gulped down earlier. "Is there anything stronger?" She asked and Mr. Handy replied with an offer to mix up a bit of vodka with Nuka cola, but it still wasn't what she was used to. "I wish we could get something a bit stronger." She lamented quietly.
"That is the strongest we have." Magnolia seemed a bit surprised.
"My granddad used to make moonshine for a bit of money on the side." She explained. "That was the real thing. It would knock you back on your ass if you drank it straight." She thought for a moment. "In fact, do you think that there'd be a market for some decent white lightening 'round here?"
"In this den of sin? Of course." The songstress answered with a red-lipped smirk. "Why, are you lookin' to sell?"
Bet tapped the bottle against her lips. "Maybe, if I can find the stuff I need. Is there any place to set up shop?"
Magnolia shifted closer. "I'm sure if you asked really nicely, Hancock would let you rent one of the warehouses." She lifted one of the short curls that had fallen over Bet's eyes. "You have lovely eyes." She complimented. "I don't believe I've seen that shade of green before." She put a finger under her chin and her breath caught. She'd never had anyone touch her like that, let alone someone so incredibly attractive. "And the softest skin I've ever felt."
"Oh..um…thanks." The weak alcohol could not be blamed for the rush of heat that made her thought process suddenly go fuzzy, and then blank. She felt the other woman's breath ghost over her face. It smelled sweet and heady. When her lips lightly touched her own she was pretty sure she stopped breathing completely, but it was over so soon it was like it didn't even happen.
A soft chuckle escaped Magnolia and when she pulled away it was with visible regret. "You are absolutely adorable. Believe me when I say that I would love to…" She trailed her fingers up Bet's bare arm and causing goosebumps to form. "…take this further, but I'm afraid I can't. You're a bit younger than me and I'm not really looking for anything right now. If it weren't for that I would love to." She placed her hands on Bet's. "I hope you can understand."
Bet's heart sank like a stone, but she smiled thinly back. "Of course, I apologize for being so forward." She slid a few more caps towards her. "Please, enjoy another drink on me. It was wonderful meeting you." Now mildly depressed, she rose and left the bar feeling very much alone in this new world. Sure, there were likely to be many more options down the road, but she'd hoped to find some slight comfort in the warmth of human contact sooner rather than later.
She didn't realize that she was moping until she heard a familiar voice rasp. "Looks like you need a pick-me-up." She met Hancock's coal-black eyes and noticed he was holding out a bottle of top-notch Pre-War whiskey. The label was mostly peeled away leaving behind a sticky residue that was free to collect bits of lint and dust. He waggled the bottle causing the liquid inside to slosh around invitingly. "It's from my personal stash." She scooted over to allow him room to sit. She noticed that Magnolia had resumed entertaining the guests. A quiet hiss left the bottle as he pried the cap off and took a huge swallow. "You wanna know how ghouls are made?" He asked out of the blue.
She lifted an eyebrow. "Do I have to kill something first?" She deadpanned.
He chuckled darkly. His gaze was unfocused like he was remembering something from long ago, but it could have been the drugs, too. "Nah, I'll let this one slide." He took another hearty swig before passing her the bottle. "It's the rads. A human takes in enough radiation and they got more problems than just cancer or mutant hands growing outta their stomachs. It can be quick or slow as fuck, but you start to lose your hair, then your skin starts peeling off, your nose drops right off your face, and sometimes…." His body tensed a little. "….sometimes ferals happen. No one knows why sometimes they do and sometimes they don't."
She placed her fingers deliberately over the remnants of adhesive and rubbed against the textured surface. "Maybe it's willpower or something." She theorized. "Every ghoul I've met in the past three days had something in them; a kind of inner strength or resilience or intense survival instinct."
He shook his head. "Nope, can't be."
"Why not?"
A self-deprecating smile crept its way onto his face. " 'Cuz I'm a ghoul." He placed a hand under his coat to fondle the reliable little tin of Mentats concealed there. She studied his face where a storm of emotions had played out for only just a moment before being quickly hidden behind the curtain of an easy, charismatic grin. "Enough of this pity-party shit, let's dance."
He had swept her up before she could even protest. A bouncy pop song that she vaguely remembered from her early teens was being blasted from a nearby jukebox. Several other people wobbled unsteadily onto the dance floor. There were so many people laughing and singing that her previous mood was forgotten.
Six songs later, she was still riding the high of the intoxicating music. It seemed like the entire bar was vibrating and the thump of the music was timed perfectly to her pounding heart. However, just as she was about to take another step, the heel of her shoe broke and she went flying backward into the ghoul to her right. The two of them went tumbling hard to the floor.
The ghoul under her cursed loudly and roughly pushed her off. She started to apologize, but her words caught in her throat when she realized that a pistol was being pressed into her face. "Fucking smoothskin bitch." He snarled. "Can't you fucking watch where you're going?" She stammered out an explanation about the shoe, but he waved it off. "Shut the fuck up. You smoothskins are all the same with your excuses and your shitty lies."
"Whoa, brother." Another ghoul attempted to place a hand on his shoulder. "What the hell are you talking about? It was just an accident." He shook off the other ghoul and continued to push the pistol harder into her head. He was shaking just a little and his eyes were a bit unfocused. A cold weight had leveled in her gut as she watched something unknown war on his face. The music had stopped and a frightened hush had fallen over the inebriated crowd.
A loud SHA-SHUNK cracked the silence and Bet pried her eyes away from her would-be killer to see Hancock coolly pointing his shotgun at the ghoul threatening her. "Jack, you know my policy." His black eyes looked as though they had been carved from anthracite. "Anyone threatens my people and they get the boot."
Jack's glazed eyes darted from her to Hancock and back again. "But she's not-"
"She's a guest." Quiet affirmations ran through the crowd and the ghoul who had tried to dissuade Jack from drawing his pistol on her helped Bet to her feet. "Just like anyone else who comes through that gate for the first time."
At that moment, the guard named Ham maneuvered his way through the crowd. He aimed his tommy gun at Jack, who was looking very cowed. He dropped his pistol to the floor and put his hands in the air while the angry guard forced him out. Bet was leaning heavily on the ghoul who had helped her because her fall had twisted her ankle badly. Even now her ankle was swelling up and starting to bruise. She forced herself to put some weight on her foot and winced. "Thanks." She said, shaking because of the pain and surprise.
The ghoul holding her up smiled kindly. "No problem, Sister." Then he looked at Hancock. "We should probably get her over to the Doc to get her foot looked at."
"Yeah, gotta make sure it's not broken." Hancock looped her other arm around his shoulder and the three of them made their way out of the club. She thanked them both several times and found out that the name of her new friend was Hal. Hal and Hancock led her through the doors of the Memory Den and past a number of strange pod-like contraptions into a basement lab area. A woman was deeply immersed in entering a long list of numbers and letters into a terminal. "Hey, Doc." Hancock knocked on the doorframe as he spoke.
The doctor jumped as she was shocked out of her intense concentration. "Mayor Hancock," She began, but stopped when she noticed he was not the only visitor to her lab. "Overdose?" She assumed irritably.
"Uh, no." Bet laughed. "Could you please have a look at my ankle?"
"I'm a neurologist, not a podiatrist, but I could check you out I suppose." Her friends deposited her on a metal chair while the woman poked and prodded her foot. She made a pained noise when the doc mercilessly moved her foot in every possible direction. "It doesn't appear to be broken. It's most likely just a bad strain on a tendon or at the worst a minor fracture. In any case, I suggest you stay off that foot for at least a week or at least until the pain and bruising subside. If the pain lasts longer than a week, then it's a fracture and we'll have to set it." She rose abruptly. "I wish you all the best. Now please, I have very important work right now that needs tending. Goodnight."
Bet was more than willing for the night to end. Hancock had to go back to the State House to speak with Ham and Jack. Hal, however, lingered in Hancock's lounge to make sure she was alright. He sat on the end of her favored couch and they made light conversation. He even offered her a bit of Med-X to help with the pain. "No, sorry." She declined politely. "I'm allergic to a lot of drugs and I've never tried that before, so I don't know if I'll have a reaction."
He was about to answer when Hancock returned. Her new friend left after making sure she was comfortable. The couch was a little lumpy and dusty, but it was clean for the most part. She felt the weariness of her long day's journey more deeply than she had anticipated. Hancock took a couple of heavily patched blankets out of the closet and handed one to her. She drew her blanket up to her chin and remembered no more.
A warm breeze blew her hair around to tickle her cheeks and nose. She irritably brushed the hairs away and rolled over, which inevitably caused pain to shoot up from her ankle. Grudgingly, she opened her eyes and glared down at her foot which protruded slightly from under the blanket. A sigh left her as she swung her legs over the edge of the couch and reached over the arm to grab the change of practical clothes she'd packed from her knapsack. She wriggled into the clean vault suit. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun was definitely high in the sky. She smiled to herself as she realized that a headache did not pound at her temples. At least she had managed to drink enough water to prevent a hangover, which was probably the best thing that had happened last night.
A loud knock interrupted her musing. "Bet?" Hancock's voice came from the other side of the thin plywood door.
She let in him immediately, of course, but wondered why he had bothered knocking on the door to his own lounge. He loped inside and she noticed something about him was definitely different. His easy smile was not so casual, nor did he appear to be as calm and put-together as per usual. "What's up?"
He pinched the bridge of his, well, what remained of his nose. "We escorted Jack outta the gates this morning. There shouldn't be any more trouble from him." Obviously, this act of punishment had greatly affected him. In fact, it appeared to trouble him much more than it should have.
"Um, is something the matter?" She asked curiously. She got the feeling that he was hiding something behind that sly façade.
"Nope," He shot her question down almost before it left her mouth. His eyes flickered down to her feet, and then up to the hand she had placed on the dresser for stability. "How's the foot?"
"Better." She lied. Truthfully, it was dreadfully swollen and the bruise had spread overnight so that now her entire foot was splotched with purple and blue. "I can walk on it now." She stubbornly took a step forward to prove her point, but the pain made her leg give out and he was forced to catch her as she stumbled forward.
"Riiiight." He made disbelieving, yet amused, huff. "That's why Amari sent you these." He went back out into the hall. Upon his return, he was carrying two crutches. The crutches must have been ancient since the cushion parts were torn to pieces so that stuffing poked out in all directions while the metal bits were definitely in need of rust remover.
Defeated, she hobbled back to the bed while her acquaintance leaned the crutches against the dresser. "Just call me gimpy." She grumbled.
For some reason, perhaps it was the fact that her injury made her a captive audience, Hancock decided to stay with her for a while. He did the majority of the talking while she mostly just asked questions about this new, irradiated environment that she had suddenly found herself in. Occasionally, he would make mention of a wild escapade with Nora or even from before he was a ghoul. The adventures were nearly always thrilling and full of action, but there were a few that were just plain hilarious. She lost her shit when he, through heaving bouts of mirth, told her the story of the dude who tried to tame Mirelurks.
She barely noticed that a few hours had passed, so engrossed had she been in the conversation. She quickly realized that the best of Hancock's many talents was his ability to talk…and talk….and talk some more. His way of painting a picture with words was quite enthralling. No wonder so many people are drawn to him, she thought as he went on to describe clearing out an entire library full of super mutants.
When he had finished, she decided that now as good a time as any to broach a subject she'd wanted to discuss since her talk with Magnolia last night. "Hancock, I think I have an idea of the job I'd like to do around here. Goodneighbor seems like the perfect market for what I have in mind and if anyone could help me make it happen, it would be you."
His friendly tone turned to business instantly. "Whatchya got in mind, doll?"
She took in a deep breath and hoped for a brief second that her request would not be considered an affront to their current acquaintanceship or possible future friendship. "May I please make use of one of your warehouses to start up a still?" She spoke quickly in fear of an instant 'no'. "My grandfather taught me an awesome recipe for moonshine and I'm sure I could adapt it to new ingredients. Regardless of how it turns out, I'm sure it'll be loads better than the stuff The Third Rail already offers and it could bring in more business to the town. Since it's your warehouse, I'll give you a portion of my profit each month as rent on top of a gallon of product."
To her complete relief, a wide and conniving grin spread across his face. He held out his hand to her. "Sounds like a deal to me." They shook hands and she was reminded how surprisingly pleasant his skin felt in spite of its seemingly shredded condition. He leaned forward a little. "Now, tell me what else ya need."
She tapped a finger against her lips for a moment. "Well, I'd need lots of clean water first off. That's the most important thing and probably the easiest. Second, there's the issue of fermentation. I need something high in sugar or starch, preferably fruit or corn, to start the process. The best way to produce it in bulk would be to use some sort of barrel or vat to hold the liquid as its being processed, so I need lots of barrels or metal tubs with lids. I'd also need a way of bottling it all up, so I'd have to build some sort of machine for that, but we can figure out the mechanics of that later on."
"Milk bottles." He interjected.
"Huh?"
He flashed a knowing smile at her. "Empty milk bottles are a cap a dozen throughout the Commonwealth. Just gotta wash 'em and have a bunch on hand all the time." He rubbed his thumb over his chin. "Sounds like you're going to need a partner to help with scavenging the parts for all o' this."
She smirked back at him. "Are you offering?"
He chuckled. "Like you said, it's my warehouse. So, yeah, I guess I am." He clapped her on the back. "An' I have the perfect place in mind to get the fruit we need. I know a settlement of ghouls who farm tarberries. They could use the caps, too, so it's perfect for all sides." He made a thoughtful noise. "As for the problem with the bottling machine, Nora knows a guy who's handy with makin' that sorta stuff. His name's Sturges. He's a tall guy, a bit burly, and sports a pompadour."
Their plans were growing more and more solid with every minute. She couldn't help being excited over the prospect of finally having a place in this world. Carving out a spot for herself in the Wasteland was a great personal accomplishment, all things considered. He assured her that as soon as her foot was healed, he would send word to Nora and Sturges, and then the four of them would go on the first of several scavenging trips to get the essentials.
Hancock left for about fifteen minutes to go find the local provisioner to deliver their note to Sanctuary. When he returned, they discussed the finer details of marketing. "It's not as if I can exactly put up a billboard." She said as they discussed advertising. "I guess I'll have to rely on word of mouth for the most part. Although, if the stuff turns out half as good as my grandad's, the recommendations won't be a problem, plus I could always test out new flavors." She paused. "I think I could even use tatos to try and replicate vodka."
The day continued to wear on as they finally faded back into the casual conversation. It was dark before Hancock finally left. A day full of planning and friendly banter had worn her out more than she would have been willing to admit. She sank into her bed, eager to heal and begin work on her plans. Perhaps tomorrow her foot would be a bit better or at least good enough for her to pick out a warehouse and maybe take a short tour of the town.
Goodneighbor was a place full of wonder for her, yet also a source of anxiety as well. It was like standing at the edge of the ocean and seeing only a tiny degree of its beauty, but being mildly afraid of the possible dangers that lurked beneath. Like a cautious diver carefully exploring the shallows before daring to explore the reef, she risked delving the secrets of the places she had been for short periods of time and lingered longer in those areas to learn them. The State House, in particular, was wonderful to her. It was how she learned that Hancock's generosity went deeper than simply doing favors for friends. She saw the mattresses, sleeping bags, suitcases, and duffle bags that were scattered across the floors around his own office and lounge. He was giving people places to stay if they needed to come down off a bad high or even if they just needed somewhere assuredly safe to put their heads down.
It surprised her, when she explored the warehouses, to find them completely devoid of any life. She hadn't gone very far into the first warehouse when she found the first of many bodies. Her scream sent the guards running in after her. Ham was the closest one and he got there the fastest. His face was grim when he saw the reason for her distress. The bodies had quite obviously been there for a long time, probably around a year, and the flesh had long since rotted away. However, the stench of rotten meat dogged the air like a stubborn stain or a puddle of blood on centuries-old floorboards. She didn't go back in until they'd disposed of every single body. The experience almost made her reconsider using one of the warehouses at all, but they were the biggest and emptiest buildings in all of Goodneighbor, so it wasn't like she had much of a choice.
She deliberated for a few days until she finally decided on the warehouse across from the Third Rail. She had decided to move in once her foot was healed and fix up the place a bit. First on the list of fixes was the giant hole in the second floor, but according to Hancock Nora was handy with that kind of thing and asking nicely would probably earn her assistance.
As it turned out, Bet was lucky that her ankle was not fractured and it was becoming easier for her to get around. Two weeks after the fact, it was nearly completely healed (just a bit stiff, really) and the crutches were no longer necessary. Free at last, she took the opportunity to roam the place that would soon become her permanent home. She learned the names of the guards and shopkeeps by heart. Strangely, she seemed to have struck up a particular friendship with the assualtron known as KLE-0.
She found the robot's attitude to be extraordinarily funny. She had never done anything more complicated than clean a gun, so it was from KLE-0 that she slowly learned how to modify and update weapons as well as armor. Eventually, she allowed Bet to take a look at the power armor frames she had in stock. Power armor was something she had next to no knowledge about since her experience was limited to mere mentions or photos of it in magazines. So far, she was at least able to figure out how to attach the appropriate parts to the frame, how to properly clean it, and how to lubricate the joints. It wasn't much, but the job earned her enough caps to keep her from going hungry. She usually bought her groceries from Daisy, but she occasionally splurged on a dinner with Hancock at The Third Rail. She always tried to allow her to buy both of their meals on these special days, but he'd always manage to slip the equivalent of the meal's cost back into her pocket as they talked. She'd learned quickly that he could be quite slick when he insisted on being a gentleman.