Rose was wakened the next morning by the sound of Dogmeat's nails clicking on the wooden floor of the Old State House, where she and Hancock had spent the night. True to his word, Hancock had treated her to whiskey and Day Tripper to help her forget her troubles; the chem was new to her, and eased the ache in her chest more readily than Jet or Med-X. Blissed out on a crossfaded high, they had fallen into bed together in the wee hours, and made love until neither of them could keep their eyes open any longer. Rose felt like she had only fallen asleep minutes ago, though the faint light glowing through her eyelids told her it had been at least a couple of hours.

Before she had even opened her eyes, the German Shepherd leapt nimbly up onto the bed and wormed his way in between the two of them.

"What the hell?" Hancock jerked awake, narrowly catching himself from being shoved to the floor.

Rose laughed as the shepherd cuddled up against her and affectionately licked her face.

"Uh oh, I think someone is jealous," she said, rubbing his head. "Do you want me all to yourself, boy?"

Dogmeat huffed in response, tail whipping back and forth.

"That mutt has been traveling with us for weeks, and chooses now to get territorial?" Hancock muttered, less than amused.

Dogmeat turned towards him and gave a light growl. Rose couldn't help but smile.

"I think that's a yes." She rubbed the German Shepherd's belly, making Dogmeat wiggle happily.

She sat up and Dogmeat jumped lightly off the bed, satisfied that he had staked his claim to Rose. She stretched, reaching her arms overhead, and Hancock gazed openly at her, appreciating the sight of her pale skin and full breasts in the daylight. She noticed him watching her and blushed self-consciously.

"What is it?"

"Don't mind me, love," he replied, his voice at that lower octave that gave her goosebumps. "Just admiring the view."

She started to get out of bed and he held her back, pulling her onto his lap.

"Not so fast," he said, running his hands along her thighs to cup the generous curve of her ass. "I'm not so sure I don't just wanna keep you here for the rest of the day."

She gave him an arch look and kissed him. "How do you propose to stop me?"

"As mayor, I'm within my rights to place you under house arrest." He began to kiss the sensitive area on her neck, just below her jaw. She shivered, gasping when he nipped lightly at her skin.

"What crime did I commit to deserve such a punishment?" she asked breathlessly, biting her lip as he made his way down to her breasts.

"Lewd behavior," he replied wryly, voice muffled against her flesh. Her laugh turned to a cry of pleasure as his hand dipped between her legs.

For all her foul-mouthed boldness, Rose was a surprisingly quiet lover, which made every little noise and exclamation that much more electrifying. Hancock took pride in drawing several more gasps from her, nimble fingers skillfully teasing her until she was all but panting with need. After a few minutes her back arched and her grip tightened on his shoulders, his name dropping from her lips in a sigh as she climaxed.

Unable to stand it any longer, he rolled her back onto the mattress and entered her with a quick thrust, burying himself in her warmth. Rose hooked both legs over his waist to drive him deeper inside her, her nails digging into his back just enough to almost hurt as they moved together. Her lips trailed feverish kisses along his neck, shoulder, and jaw; he felt the rough edge of her teeth and then the curve of a wicked smile at the noise he made in response. It almost made him delirious, the fact that this admittedly dangerous, beautiful, and genuinely good woman had chosen him, when she could easily ensnare any man with a pulse.

Just the thought itself was nearly enough to make him come, but Rose brought her lips to his in a kiss deep enough to make his head spin and lose focus. The extra seconds allowed her to reach a second orgasm, and she actually cried out as her muscles tightened in the wave of pleasure that rolled through her body. The sensation of her muscles clenching around him was enough to drive him over the edge as well; he buried himself inside her with a final thrust, groaning her name against the soft skin of her neck.

Spent, the two of them laid motionless for a few moments, panting as they tried to catch their breath. Rose held him against her torso, not seeming to mind his weight; her hands followed the scarred texture of his skin absently, and she hummed happily to herself, the noise vibrating through her chest.

Hancock was just contemplating going for round two when, buried in the pile of hastily discarded clothing from the night before, came the persistent beep beep of the Pip-boy. Rose sighed, and he rolled off to the side so she could respond to whatever new, urgent message had come through. Most likely it was the Minutemen with another settlement in crisis.

"What now?" she muttered, hanging off the edge of the mattress as she dug through their clothes to find the portable computer. On the glowing green screen was a message sent from an unnamed terminal, just one sentence with no signature.

"Follow the Freedom Trail?" she read. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Hancock shrugged and reached for the pack of cigarettes lying nearby the bed. "You got me, doll. Who sent it?"

"Doesn't say." She tapped the screen and bit her lip, thinking hard. "Before the war, there was a tour that went around some historic sites in Boston Common. I think they called that the Freedom Trail, at least at the time. I wonder if that's what this is?"

"Boston Common?" Hancock pushed himself out of bed and started getting dressed; he could already tell she wasn't going to let this one go. "Most people don't come back from there, Sunshine."

"You think it's some kind of trap?"

"I think whoever would want to send you there doesn't have your best interests at heart."

"Hmmm." She clicked through the settings on the Pip-boy until her map popped up. "I went on that tour once when I was a teenager. The last stop was Old North Church… it's not too far from here, and isn't so close to the Common to be dangerous." She paused, and then amended, "Well, excessively dangerous."

He rolled his eyes. "You're going to make us check it out, aren't you?"

"It could be a lead on the Institute," she said, her tone only partially apologetic. She jumped out of bed and began pulling on her clothes and armor. "It's a small detour. If the place is empty, then we've only wasted a couple of hours."

"Why do I get the feeling we're going to end up with a bunch of guns in our faces?"

She stole a quick kiss as she reached for her boots. "We'll be fine. If it gets too hot, we'll back out. I promise."

"Stop. Right. There."

Rose flinched as blindingly bright spotlights popped on in front of them. She could barely make out the silhouettes of three (definitely armed) figures standing before them.

"I seem to remember predicting something just like this earlier this morning," Hancock muttered to her under his breath. "To think of all the other things we could be doing…"

"They haven't shot us yet," Rose pointed out stubbornly.

"I think the key word there is 'yet.'"

"You went to a lot of effort to arrange this meeting," the woman in the middle said, her tone grim. "But before we go any further, answer my questions. Who the hell are you?"

"Who the hell are you?" Rose asked back. "We came here because someone sent a message to my Pip-boy telling me to follow the Freedom Trail."

Now that her eyes had adjusted to the light, Rose could see the three people clearly now. A dark woman with shockingly white hair stood to the left, a hulking mini-gun in her grip. To the right stood a nondescript man with short dark hair and sunglasses. The woman in the center had a palpable in-charge air about her, and she was frowning.

"In a world full of suspicion, treachery, and hunters, we're the synths' only friends. We're the Railroad," she explained, reciting the lines as though she had said them many times before. Rose heard Hancock made a small noise of recognition, but didn't react to it.

"You made the passcode for your hideout the same name as your organization?" Rose asked dubiously.

"Most people don't make it this far. What do you mean you received a message?" the woman asked suspiciously.

"That would have been me, Dez," the man to her right piped up. To Rose, he said, "Glad to see that you figured it out! I was hoping you would."

"Care to explain, Deacon?"

"Newsflash, boss: this lady's kind of a big deal out in the Commonwealth," he said. "I've been following the gossip around her for a while. She's the one who reinstated the Minutemen, and rumor has it she took out Kellogg too. The Railroad owes her a crate, hell, a truckload of Nuka-Cola for taking care of him for us."

"You killed Kellogg?" the woman asked in disbelief. "If that's true, then you've helped us a great deal."

"She's definitely someone we want on our side, Dez," Deacon continued. "Extra perks for bringing in Mayor Hancock there, too."

Rose glanced at her companion. "You know these guys?"

"I've heard a thing or two, yeah," he confirmed. "They've got something going on with the Memory Lounge. I made a point never to pry into it."

"Hancock turning a blind eye to our activities has made our operation a lot easier to maintain," Deacon explained. "I had some sources keep an eye on you, and when I found out you were in Goodneighbor, I had one of our techs track down your Pip-boy's frequency to send you a little invite."
"So you're vouching for her?" the woman asked. Deacon nodded. "That changes things." To Rose and Hancock, she said, "I am Desdemona, leader of the Railroad. This is Deacon, and this is one of our heavies, Glory."

"It'd be a lot more welcoming without that mini-gun pointed at our heads," Hancock remarked.

"You'll have to forgive our caution," Desdemona said, gesturing to Glory to lower the weapon. "The Institute is a dangerous and crafty enemy. We cannot afford to be too careful."

"So you're after the Institute too?" Rose asked. "What do you want from us, exactly?"