Betty laughed to herself when she stepped through the door and realized the bar was once a subway station back before the war. She had to admit, the people of the wasteland were sharp as tacks and rarely did they let anything go to waste. What would have been little more than trash during her time, was worth more and used more now than ever. Salvage was a big part of life for many, and now a part of Betty's as well. Preston had taught her how to search for and use scrap; now, it was second-nature for her to find something as petty as a broken alarm clock and tuck it into her pack.
The Sole Survivor looked up and noticed another ghoul in a tuxedo, his formal hat doing little to conceal the sour look on his face. Betty smiled and walked towards him. He must be Mayor Hancock's bouncer, Ham. What an odd name. She'd have to ask about it one day.
The ghoul tipped his hat toward Betty and said in a hoarse voice, "Hancock says newcomers are welcome here. Head on downstairs. Let me know if the drifters give you any trouble."
"Is that what usually happens to new people? They get extorted and harassed?" she asked him.
"Sounds about right. Don't bother the other patrons and they should leave you alone."
Betty remembered her college days when she and her friends would paint the town red, and how she learned that tipping the bouncers of particular establishments came with perks and a few good friends. She dug through her pack as he raised his lack of brow, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, and handed him the last of her caps. So she wouldn't get to drown any sorrows tonight, but she might find work instead. Win-win in her eyes.
"Have a good night..Ham, right?" said Betty. The ghoul nodded, still staring at the few caps she placed in his palm and she added, "That tux is sharp, by the way."
Ham looked up and watched Betty shuffle down the walkway, pulling her long, black hair free from its knot. The door opened again and in walked the Mayor, finishing off a jet inhaler with a satisfied grin. He tossed the inhaler in the trashcan beside Ham and gave the bouncer's arm a rough pat.
"How's your night starting off, Hammy boy?" asked Hancock. "Did that looker softskin drop by yet?"
The bouncer nodded in Betty's direction and when Hancock looked up at him again, he confessed, "She gave me some caps," and showed the mayor what he held in his palm.
"Why'd she do that?"
"Dunno, Sir...odd dame, that one."
"I like 'em odd."
"So it seems."
The mayor pat Ham on the shoulder once more and strolled into the Third Rail to cheers and shouts from its patrons. His people did love him, that much was clear. He managed to turn a town of degenerates into a town of solace for the unloved and unwanted. Still, there were moments where he questioned if he was too comfortable in his position of power. Finn had unknowingly hit a nerve when he called Hancock soft. Is that what he was now? He looked among the faces that smiled at him and wondered if any of them would be the ones to attempt mutiny and overthrow him. Hancock was not one to fret about things that haven't even happened yet, and so his dark eyes searched for what he hoped would be his flavor of the week.
Betty waited beside the bar counter, hoping one of the stools would be free soon enough as the room buzzed with clinking glass and laughter; her legs ached worse than usual today and all she wanted to do was just take a load off. A woman in a sparkling, red dress stood up from her seat and tapped Betty's shoulder.
"If you're looking for a seat, you can take mine. It's time for the show anyhow," said the woman.
"What show?" Betty asked.
"Me," said the woman with a wink as she walked to the small stage. The vault girl watched the curvaceous woman take the stage and for a second, thought it would turn into a strip show of sorts, until the woman in the red dress began to belt out a breathy, sensual jazz song instead.
Live music! Betty couldn't believe it and she took the now empty stool and waited for the bartender, a Mr. Handy wearing a bowler cap, to jet over in her direction. There was a flash of red out of the corner of her eye and she saw Mayor Hancock stroll up to the bar with a woman beneath each arm and one at his back, her legs wrapped around his waist as she whispered to him, laughing every few moments. Betty met the mayor's gaze and he gave her a quick smile, returning his attentions to the woman who clung to his right arm.
"Oi! We got beer if you're buyin' and nothin' if you ain't," the Mr. Handy snapped at Betty with a heavy cockney accent.
"Shit, even water costs money?" she asked as she dug through her pack a second time tonight, wondering if she missed a cap or two. She muttered under her breath, "I am so sick of this Commonwealth."
The Mr. Handy held back his retort, ready to berate her before he turned one of his visual sensors to Mayor Hancock, who shook his head slowly. The silent exchange went unnoticed by Betty and the Mr. Handy replied, "..No charge for water, no. Would that be all...Miss?"
"That's all, thank you. What's your name?"
The Mr. Handy replied, "They call me Whitechapel Charlie," as he slammed a bottle of water in front of her.
Betty introduced herself as well and held out her hand towards Charlie, who only looked at her as if she were the absolute dumbest human alive. Her hand retreated back to her lap with a bit of a flush on her cheeks. That was another thing she had to get used to in this newer Commonwealth: the exceptional rudeness. She already lost count as to how many people told her to 'fuck off' since she left the vault months ago. The people of Boston before the war were a little rough, sure, but out here, offering help was a rare event.
"I never thought I'd hear live music again...is it all right to take a table?" she asked.
Charlie glanced at his mayor again and the ghoul nodded his head once.
"Sit anywhere you like, I don't give a damn."
Betty sat at the table closest to the stage and as thirsty as she was, forced herself to sip on her water and enjoy this rare moment of peace.
"Charlie, my man, get everyone a round, would you? Too many bitter faces around here!" Mayor Hancock announced.
The bar roared with its appreciation of a mayor so generous and a crowd gathered near Betty as Whitechapel Charlie handed out bottles of beer. He even set one in front of her, despite his gruffness earlier, and she raised her drink to the mayor along with the other patrons in a toast of appreciation. Hancock climbed onto the bar counter, much to Charlie's anguish, and held his tricorn hat over his chest as he took a bow.
Quite the character, this mayor, thought Betty. She hesitated for only a moment before taking a sip of her drink, fearing the beer would be horrible and nothing like what she was fond of. The slight, bitter taste washed over her tongue and she had to smile, something she was doing much more since her arrival in Goodneighbor. Beer was still great, thank goodness and for a bunch of criminals and the unwanted, the citizens around her weren't so bad either.
"Now that you're all liquored up, I got a proposition for ya," said Charlie as he hovered over to Betty's table.
"Oh?" she asked.
"..I need a dirty girl to do some dirty, dirty work. Blood on the pavement. Bodies in the ground, that kind of thing. You interested?"
Hancock snickered, drawing Betty's attention away for a moment, until she realized he probably wasn't listening to what went on around him. He did have three woman throwing themselves at his boots.
"I might be," Betty answered. "I'd like to know more before I agree to anything. I can't just kill someone without reason. That's not what I do."
Charlie nodded and explained, "I got a certain anonymous client who's payin' top dollar for a clean up job. Three locations. Snuff everyone inside. No witnesses. Only catch? It's all in town, in the old warehouses, so I can't use my regulars. Too noticeable. That's where you come in. The job's 200 caps, payment after it's done. And don't worry... I'll know when it is."
"I-I'll get it done," Betty answered in a shaky voice.
"You betta. Now get out there an' bust some heads."
Charlie shoved a piece of paper into Betty's hand and hovered back over to Hancock. She finished her drink and left the cap on the table beside the empty bottle as yet another tip. It had to be dark outside by now, and it seemed that most of Goodneighbor gathered in the bar at night. She'd be able to finish up her bit of work for Charlie without anyone noticing her, and so she rushed back to the entrance and out the door.
After watching the softskin leave, Hancock snatched a dish rag from Charlie and smacked the bot's arm with it several times. "You gotta look at me for every question you get around here? Really?"
"How else would you profit, Mayor?" Charlie asked.
"On a newcomer's first day, they get a meal, water, and a chem at no charge. They can switch the chem for more food, but with chems, beggars can't be choosers. Who gives a shit about profit, I'm not hurting for caps."
"Acknowledged, sir."
"Glad to hear it. You know, you've been doin' real nice here. A bar was the way to go." Charlie handed the ghoul a shot and another beer. "Good call offering that softskin the job; that 'dirty girl' bit was fuckin' hilarious. I'd like to see what she can do."
"I'm sure you do, sir."
"Not like that, Charlie." Charlie hovered in silence, his visual sensors narrowed and Hancock added, "All right, you caught me. But the fighting interests me, too. I've been itchin' to get out there again. She gives me a good enough reason, I just might."