Hola friends! Sorry if I took a little longer than usual this week. Work has been pretty hectic. Thank you so, so much for the continued reviews, favorites, and follows! They always make me smile. Fair amount of smut at the end, so if that's not your thing, it starts after Hancock and Betty leave the bar. Enjoy!
Hancock wasn't sure who he'd face at the bottom of the stairwell in the Old State House, where Nick Valentine sat locked in the lone jail cell. It had been at least five or six years by now that the cell was used for anything other than a drunk tank of sorts. Would it be his oldest friend waiting for him or the mercenary? Regardless, this meeting would be heavy. He brought a Jet inhaler to his lips on the way down and before the chem's effects hit, he pulled on his red frock coat.
Valentine sat in the furthest corner of the cell, shackled to the brick wall by his wrists. Several guards, all carrying powerful assault rifles, stood watch around the synth until Hancock waved them off.
"John," said Valentine without lifting his head. "Here to kill me?"
"Haven't made that decision just yet," said Hancock and he took a seat on an overturned bucket. Pulling out his .44 and resting it on his knee, he leaned against the cold brick wall with a hard face, and said, "Got half a mind to. You almost killed Birdie, but she asked me not to kill you...fuckin' angelic thing that she is. Thinks ya didn't mean it, which is why you're still talkin'. So, care to explain what in the everlovin' fuck happened back there?"
"Amari said there might've been some 'mnemonic impressions' left over," Nick said in a low voice.
"Do I look like a fuckin' scientist?" asked the ghoul. "The hell does that even mean?"
Nick almost laughed but managed to catch himself before he could. He'd known John long enough to know antagonizing him when he was upset was akin to poking a wounded deathclaw. "Kinda like fingerprints...bits and pieces left behind."
"Is it gonna happen again? Can't risk you losin' your shit like that every time you see Betty or anyone else," said Hancock, rubbing his temple with the end of the .44's barrel. "Too great a risk even I won't take."
Nick shook his head and replied, "Amari did some sorta local wipe when she came to fix my jaw. Don't remember anything from the couple of days now, but it's better than the..alternative plan you had in store for me."
"...You know, I've been giving Betty so much shit for hesitatin' before she shoots, and I go and fuckin' do it. Woulda snuffed ya without question, if I weren't so worried over her. Fuckin' christ, I thought she was dead."
"Kinda glad you did," said the synth. "I'm sorry Kellogg made me strangle your sweetheart. Glad to hear she's already talkin', if she asked you to spare me."
"S'alright...ain't fully sorry for tryin' to kill ya, I mean, you did put your hands on Birdie and I won't stand for that kinda shit. But, sorry for bein' a crazy asshole after you came to. I know ya didn't mean it now."
"I haven't seen you like that in a very long time. Fright isn't a good look for a bastard who's already ugly as sin."
"Fuck you, Nicky, you're a talkin' refrigerator...talk 'bout ugly. I wouldn't stick my dick in that and I've stuck my dick in some weird shit," said Hancock with a laugh.
"Please," said Nick as he covered his eyes. "Spare me the details of your chem-induced liaisons."
Hancock chuckled again and whistled for the guards. "Let him out. The detective lives another day."
One of the guards unlocked the cell and Nick walked out as they gave him a wide berth. The ghoul smiled up at him and held out his fist, and Nick tapped against it with his metal knuckles.
"Is it all right if I head up to see Betty? I'd like to apologize in person for what happened..unless she wouldn't want to see me," Nick asked. "I'd understand."
"Might be asleep since I gave her some action, but go for it," said Hancock. "I'm gonna grab a beer real quick, let the others know Birdie's all right. Come by after you're done visitin'."
The ghoul made it as far as the bottom of the stairwell when Nick called out, "She's good for you, you know. And you for her."
"I think I might've hit ya too hard, because we all know I ain't any good for her. It's me who's lucky. Dunno where the fuck it came from but I ain't gonna complain," said Hancock.
"Look, you might be an pompous jackass sometimes, but you're not dense by any means. Do you really not see what you do to her?"
"Hell yeah, I do," he replied with a smirk. "Still fuckin' got it."
"-Not that, you little deviant," said Nick.
Hancock laughed and held up his hand, "Knew what ya meant. We all saw Kellogg's last memory of her. That fire's always been in her, I just help bring it out every once in a while. Jesus, she looked incredible, didn't she?"
"That she did."
Hancock glared at the guards who remained, nodded towards the stairs, and sent them away before he leaned against the banister with a sigh. "...You know, seein' her all wild and beautiful and then watchin' her fade away when Kellogg forced your hand...I was sure I'd go feral, ain't gonna lie."
"If it makes you feel better, you were coherent when I came to my senses," Nick assured his friend. "Could've been you were just pissed off someone was hurtin' the gal you love."
The ghoul chuckled and said, "You could tell, huh?"
"That you love her? I realized it when I came to and saw your face...she was limp in your arms. You were ready to destroy anyone and anything around you at the possibility of losing her. And what Betty's done, even before she met you, is extraordinary for someone of her circumstances. Pretty sure most people would've kicked the bucket a long time ago. The two of ya together make for a fearsome match," said Nick with a hand on Hancock's shoulder.
The ghoul thought he'd been in love a handful of times before, when he was much younger, but realized as he aged that they were nothing more than simple infatuations and chem-fueled lust. But Betty...she was something else entirely. He wanted to be involved in her life, keep her safe, happy. Him, a stone-cold killer, the one ghoul no one was stupid enough to fuck with, was sweet on the pre-war princess of the Commonwealth. Good thing he was pretty sure she loved him too, or else he'd really feel like an idiot.
Hancock cleared his throat and said, "My mouth's a desert; let's head on up."
The friends walked up the stairs together, Hancock ducking out the door at the first floor to head over to the Third Rail. The synth continued, up the spiraling staircase, until he came face to face with several guards watching the doors to Hancock's room. Valentine lifted his hands as they all pointed their guns.
"The mayor himself let me out. I'm just here to apologize to Betty." said Nick. When the guards refused to lower their weapons, he asked, "Are you really gonna question his decisions after the night he just had?"
The guards, who've all known the detective since they were children, hesitated to step aside and face the possible wrath of an unpredictable boss. After a few moments, when they saw that Valentine posed no threat, they stepped aside and waved him ahead.
The room was dark, but not for a synth whose sight proved superior than most. His eyes fell to the bed where Betty was curled up beneath the sheets, her sides rising and falling at a steady rate. The bruises on her neck had already begun to fade as the stimpaks Amari injected into her worked their magic. Two of the guards stepped into the room, guns ready, but Nick ignored them both and reached out to smooth the hair on Betty's head.
"I'm so sorry, peach. If I could've fought against it, I would have. Lucky for me, your steady decided to spare this ol' bucket of bolts 'cause you asked him to, so thanks for that. I owe ya one, kid. We're all glad to have ya around," Nick whispered.
Betty stirred and turned away from the edge of the bed, making a grab for the pillow beside her before she buried her face in the fabric, his cue to leave Betty to sleep and dream about her new love.
Valentine tipped his hat towards the guards as they closed the bedroom door behind him and headed out to the bar. Goodneighbor was its usual self. A few drunks leaning on corners, a handful of junkies shooting up in an alley...nothing compared to what the town used to be before John took over.
Nick walked down the steps to the Third Rail and found Hancock standing on top of the bar counter, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a cigarette in hand, as he barked orders at anyone unfortunate enough to be noticed.
"What's all the noise about?" Nick asked and then he nodded, knowing the answer already. "Full tin of mentats, I'm guessin'?"
Hancock nodded his head as he took a drag of his smoke and said, "Throwin' a bash tomorrow before Birdie and I head out to the Glowing Sea-don't bother with a lecture, I know it's shitty, she's got power armor."
Valentine chuckled and asked, "Any particular reason? For the bash, I mean."
The ghoul hopped off the counter and smiled, thinking of Mama Murphy's vision. Music. One of the best nights of their lives? He could that. "Birdie's alive. Good enough reason for me. Now cut that investigative shit and help MacCready move the jukebox...unless ya got some business of your own to uh, take care of."
"You know, I just might head over there. Worth a shot, even after all this chaos," said Nick after a long pause.
"Irma defended ya until the end, when the girl and RJ showed up. She ain't a fighter, but she sure gives a damn about ya. Head over, we'll be good here," Hancock insisted. He gripped MacCready's shoulder hard, eliciting a pained grunt from the young merc and said, "Got the best damn workhorse a mayor could ask for."
It was a short walk from the Third Rail to the Memory Den for the synth. He hoped Irma didn't see him as some sort of monster now. For people like himself and John, it was a risk to lose control without those who care for them shunning them out of fear. Nick couldn't blame any who felt that way. He was even ready to accept the fact that Betty would keep her distance.
Valentine tried to open the door to the Memory Den but it was locked tight. Irma..must not want to see him. Still, he wanted to apologize for the chaos at the very least, and banged his fist loudly on the wooden door. A few moments later, as the synth turned to leave, the door creaked open and he turned his head. Irma stood behind the door, red-faced and puffy-eyed.
Nick took off his battered fedora and said, "Sorry about earlier, Irma. Still up for that chat we spoke about? Got...got a lot on my mind."
Irma threw her arms around Nick's neck and kissed him, grateful that the synth hadn't been deemed a danger by the mayor. She smiled up at him, grabbed him by his tie and dragged him into the den, a better reaction than what Nick hoped for.
After working through the night and most of the morning, Hancock opened the door to his bedroom with care and stuck his head in to check on his girl. Betty was still fast asleep, the sheets twisted around her bare legs as she clutched a pillow to her chest. The ghoul walked in, taking care to be quiet as he made sure she was breathing at a steady rate. The bruises on her neck were already faded and gone. Satisfied, and a little stunned at the sight of the gorgeous woman in his bed, he began to search through a chest of drawers. Though he loved his red frock coat, it wasn't enough for the sort of evening he planned for. Betty would be the one to stand out in her uniform, but that didn't mean he'd half-ass his own attire.
The ghoul peeked outside his bedroom and threw a pair of black dress shoes at one of his guards. "Get your fuckin' shine box and work some magic on those."
"Right away, mayor. Anything else?"
Hancock held up one finger and disappeared into his room before he returned with a burlap sack and shoved it into the guard's arms. "These need to be washed and pressed. Leave Betty's uniform folded on the bed and if she ever mentions any funny shit, I'll nail your cock and balls to Goodneighbor's gates. Bring the rest to the bar when you're done. You got until dusk, so hurry the fuck up." The guard nodded and rushed down the stairs, sending another guard up to take his place.
Pleased with how things had turned out so far, Hancock stepped into his office and sifted through the desk for paper and an envelope to pen a short note for Betty. He crept back into the bedroom and left the envelope on the nightstand before he leaned down and kissed his girl softly on the mouth.
"You're in for a mess of trouble tonight," he whispered to the still sleeping Betty. "Hope you're ready. Been waitin' my whole life for someone like you."
The ghoul returned to the bar, where some of his guards worked alongside citizens to prepare for the biggest bash in Goodneighbor since he took over a decade ago. Only a couple of hours remained before dusk settled in..and MacCready still hadn't returned from his errand.
"Where the hell is the kid?" Hancock asked Whitechapel Charlie as he took a seat at the bar counter.
The robotic bartender lifted one of his arms and said, "Dunno, boss, but he took that bird 'oo asks too many questions with 'im." Charlie handed Hancock a list of inventory and the ghoul looked it over with some interest.
"Less vodka and more whiskey would be better, house favorite and all that jazz. Gotta get rid of this med-x, though," said Hancock as he rapped his fingers on the sheet of paper. "Keep 'em in the back tucked away so no one grabs 'em by accident. Don't wanna see any of that shit out on the floor...and make sure everyone follows suit. Ham, you feel me?"
"Oi, this betta not be permanent, boss, 'less ya want ter lose a fortune," said Charlie.
Hancock scoffed and replied, "Just for tonight, don't get your fuckin' metal panties in a twist over it. Ham? Answer me!"
"Got it, mayor. I'll check everyone before they head downstairs," the bouncer assured him as he headed to the entrance.
"Thanks, brother." Hancock shoved the inventory list towards Charlie with a grunt. Fahrenheit followed him as he barked for the guards to turn all the tables exactly 45 degrees to the right. "To the RIGHT, you morons! Jesus! God fuckin' help us all if the Institute comes knockin'!"
"Can I ask about the whole, no med-x thing?" Fahrenheit asked, her voice low, as the ghoul searched beneath the counter for the half bottle of whiskey he'd left there the night before.
His dark eyes narrowed as he took a few gulps straight from the bottle and when she refused to back off, he answered, "No, ya can't...and you of all people should know better."
"Something happened."
Hancock scoffed. "No shit."
"What happened to you?" she pressed. Her mouth became a tight line and she whispered, "Did you almost overdose? I told you to stop pushing it so hard!"
"Not another word outta your damn mouth, girl," he warned. "And I ain't touched the shit for almost two weeks now, even refused it when that mirelurk queen fucked me up at the Castle, so don't talk to me like I still got some sorta problem. Matter of fact, you should stop talkin' all together."
Fahrenheit stopped suddenly and whispered, "It was Betty, wasn't it?"
Hancock reached up and grabbed the front of his body guard's armor, forcing her down to his eye level and whispered, "Not. A. Word. Risk for her new found title and all, and I can't see her like that again...broken and sobbing-I won't! It ain't her, who she wants to be."
"Oh my god," she said with a shocked laugh. "You're in love with her!" Hancock refused to answer her and she clapped her hands with a grin. "It's finally happened. You fell. Hard. Never thought I'd live to see the day. Have you told her?"
He shook his head and replied, "I'd rather show her."
"Pretty sure she'd want to hear it."
"She will," Hancock said with grin, "while I'm showin' her tonight."
Fahrenheit sat on the couch near her boss and rested her boots on the low coffee table as the ghoul continued to shout out instructions about one thing or another. Fahrenheit couldn't believe some of the stories Hancock told her last night about his time with Betty. She never imagined the new blood would make it, especially being a pre-war gal. Women had a hard enough life nowadays, being targets for raiders and the like, and she was sure Hancock would return with news of Betty's death. Instead, MacCready said Hancock and Betty were arm in arm when they arrived, the vault girl passing as a mercenary type after spending almost a month trekking across the Commonwealth. Fahrenheit was proud of Hancock, both for keeping his shit together and the patience that earned him a shot at the sole survivor. He deserved it, for all the good he's done.
A guard walked down the steps, holding up two suits and a burlap sack. Hancock bumped fists with the guard and hung the suits over his shoulder and said to Fahrenheit, "Gonna start getting ready. Send MacCready in when he gets here."
"You got it, boss," she answered.
Hancock ruffled the hair on her head, knowing her hatred for it. She swatted his hand away and he asked, "Got a date for tonight?"
"I always have a date," said Fahrenheit with a smug grin.
"Damn right. Learned from the best."
A half hour later, MacCready rushed into the bathroom just as Hancock pulled on his slacks, the young merc's chest heaving as he reached into his vest and held up a tin.
"Just missed an eyeful of ghoul cock," said Hancock with a smirk.
"Thank god, I'd be pretty useless as a blind sniper," said RJ as he caught his breath. The mayor laughed and asked how the pick up at Graygarden went with Piper. "She's uh, pretty terrible at shooting but her hangin' onto me the whole time made me feel good. Talks a lot though, Jesus."
"You two smash yet?"
"What? No!"
The ghoul shook his head with a laugh and said, "You got a lot to learn regardin' the ladies. By the way, the blue one's yours, kid."
Hancock pointed at the suit next to Hancock's black jacket and MacCready shook his head several times. "No way man, I'm not wearing that-"
"-Ya either wear the suit or Fahrenheit gets to use ya as target practice. Think of it as...retribution for bein' late."
"...I'll take the suit, thanks."
The men changed into their respective suits for the evening in silence. After what happened with Lucy and the ghoul who watched over him and his pseudo-siblings at Little Lamplight, MacCready was a hesitant to put his trust in a ghoul again. But like many who met the flashy mayor in person, RJ couldn't help but like and respect Hancock.
RJ tucked his crisp white shirt into his slacks and groaned when Hancock held out the matching tie to the suit.
"Gotta wear the tie, man. Can't expect these dames to fall for us if we don't put in the effort, you feel me?" the ghoul explained.
MacCready tried in vain to twist a knot for his necktie and threw it in the sink after several frustrating attempts.
"Left or right handed?" asked Hancock after a moment.
"Er, right."
Hancock moved to MacCready's right side and undid his own tie. He motioned to the sink and said, "Just follow what I'm doin', it's only a pain in the ass the first few times. Same way my dad taught me."
MacCready snatched the tie and positioned it around his neck with a huff. "I'm gonna look like a freakin' idiot."
"-You sayin' I look like an idiot?"
"-No!"
"Then shut up and put the damn tie on."
It took the usually skilled mercenary a few tries but MacCready finally achieved a somewhat decent knot and sighed when Hancock ripped the hat off his head and pointed to a comb by the faucet. Without any more protest on his part, RJ dipped the comb into the water and combed his hair to the side. That damn cowlick at the back of his head wouldn't give up..
"It ain't the prettiest but it's good enough. Should catch that reporter's attention," said Hancock after he checked MacCready's fourth attempt at taming his hair.
"Look, I've never been great with this sorta crap. I got lucky with Lucy."
"What about that ghoul who watched over you when you were younger? Didn't have anything to teach ya?"
MacCready was silent for a moment before he explained, "Charon? He wasn't good around people except for the vault girl, Ava. She was bloodthirsty like him. Made sense they'd get along. At least he taught me how to shoot better. He was the best."
It was the second time MacCready had spoken to Hancock about his young life at length. The first was almost a year ago, when he offered shelter to the battered young merc from the Gunners. RJ spoke about how he was the second craziest ghoul he'd ever met, the first being his guardian, and then the merc passed out drunk over the counter. Other than a sentence or two of comparison, MacCready never mentioned his life with the pair in the Capital Wasteland.
"What happened to them, if ya don't mind me askin'?"
"They split up before the Brotherhood reclaimed the Outcast branch I told you about last night. The vault girl joined the Outcasts and he didn't want anything to do with it at first. He might've gone after her in the end...it'd be something he'd do. That's the last any of us kids heard from either of them. One day they were screwing, then they were shovin' and puchin', and then the next, they were both gone. She's probably dead. She wouldn't make it without him. Too hot-headed. I tried to find Charon, thinking he'd made it, but no one had seen him for years by the time I was able to make it out on my own."
Hancock frowned, not expecting such an answer and said, "For what it's worth kid, I may give you a lot of shit, but if you ever need me I'll be there with guns or fists. I ain't gonna let you down."
RJ stared hard at the mirror and whispered to Hancock, "...You're a better man than he ever was."
He nodded appreciatively, gave MacCready's back a rough pat after he pulled on his jacket and said, "Let's go nab some arm candy."
Back at the bar, Fahrenheit's jaw dropped at the sight of her boss in a tuxedo. Hancock glanced at himself in the mirror behind the bar and adjusted the knot on his tie.
"God damn, I'm one handsome motherfucker," he said with a smile. "Might wear this every day!"
"Hopefully you'll be one after tonight," said Fahrenheit with a smirk. "A mother fucker."
The ghoul chuckled. Even MacCready had to take another glance at himself and he smiled as Piper popped up from behind his shoulder. In lieu of her newscap and red trenchcoat, she wore a soft, green dress instead.
"You clean up nice..for a merc," said the reporter as she gave him a smile.
"And you're still a horrible shot," said RJ. "But I guess your hair looks okay without that dumb hat."
Luckily for RJ, Piper threw her head back with a laugh and punched him in the shoulder. Fahrenheit and Hancock glanced at each other with a sigh. MacCready would learn the gift of gab eventually but tonight, he was on his own.
A real and surprisingly comfortable bed made for some of the best sleep Betty had gotten in since leaving Vault 111. She stared at the ceiling with a wide grin at the thought of the night before with Hancock.
"God," she said to herself. "I can't wait until he does that again."
Betty rolled in the sheets, inhaling the scent and she giggled into the pillow. She sat up, her smile bright and stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. Her General's uniform was folded neatly at the edge of the bed, and she couldn't help but be impressed at how her ghoul kept his town running like a well-oiled machine.
She noticed an envelope on the night stand with 'General Elizabeth Parker' written across the front in Hancock's strangely elegant script. She tore it open and read:
"Hey Sunshine,
Hope you got enough shut eye; didn't wanna wake ya. Got a dinner planned for us at the bar, a little after dusk. Be there or be-"
Betty snickered at Hancock's sketch of a square that took up most of the note, which ended with a heart scribble and the letters 'MJH'. She clutched the note to her chest with a smile before tucked the note into her knapsack for safekeeping.
She dressed in her General's uniform and took a moment to admire the coat in the mirror before she checked her Pip-boy and it was nearly time for their dinner. She gathered her hair high on her head, tied off the ends and with a quick glance in the mirror, she was off to the Third Rail.
Betty stepped out of the Old State House, a bit unnerved that the streets of Goodneighbor were mostly empty, save for a few drifters she wasn't familiar with. Even Kleo and Daisy were missing. A bit of dread washed over Betty at that moment when thoughts of an ambush crept into her mind. Triggermen were no longer an issue...it was the Institute she worried about now. She shuddered and continued towards the bar. Hancock would lift her spirits, as he always had since they met.
A foolish grin appeared on her face at the thought of him. It seemed like an eternity since she felt this way, not since Nate, of course. No longer did she feel guilt or sadness. Nate was never the possessive type, and she knew he would want her to be happy and loved rather than alone and miserable. It's the same she would've wanted for him if he were in her boots.
Opening the door to the bar's entrance, Betty was relieved to hear voices, the occasional laugh, and the sound of instruments being tuned. Instead of Ham guarding the entrance with his infamous sullen disposition, she found MacCready leaning against the wall, chatting with one of Charlie's errand boys. She almost choked when she saw his hat and duster were replaced with a clean, blue suit, his hair neatly combed to the side, save for that bit of a cowlick at the back...maybe he'd let her fix it..
"Hey Betty," MacCready said. He sent the errand boy away with a glare and beckoned her closer.
"What's with the fancy threads?" she asked, trying to smooth down the wild tuft of hair. "And where's Ham?"
"Don't even bother with my hair, it's not gonna happen. Ham's..uh, takin' a piss." MacCready glanced at his pocket watch and gave her a sheepish grin. "As far as the suit, I was...thinkin' about asking Piper out for some drinks. Hancock insisted on this damn tie, and now I'm not sure if he's messing with me or not."
"He was spot on about the tie, as per usual. I'm surprised he doesn't have a damn tailor. In all seriousness, you look great; I'm sure she'll say yes." Betty reached out and fixed the knot on his tie, before she smoothed it out and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Ask her about being a reporter. That's her thing."
"That's gonna be the shortest conversation in bar history. I don't have time to pick up some crummy newspaper when I'm getting shot at. Have to shoot back, you know, show them who's boss."
Betty pat his chest with a loud laugh. "Ask her the questions about it and you'll get a start."
"Thanks, Bets. Hancock's waiting downstairs for you. He's a little...wired, but he should be better now that you're here."
"When is he not?" she replied with a chuckle.
When Betty reached the bottom of the stairs, it became obvious why the streets of Goodneighbor were empty. Nearly the entire town had packed into the modest bar, and they greeted Betty with cheers and a roar of thunderous applause.
MacCready appeared behind her shoulder and said, "Oh, and this party's for you."
"Why?" she asked.
"Cuz you didn't croak last night and Hancock wanted to celebrate."
"One, two, three!" a voice shouted. The music began and Betty looked toward the stage. Ham stood beside the beautiful Magnolia, caressing the microphone as he shouted once more, "One, two, three!"
The music was deafening as the town of Goodneighbor tore up the dance floor.
"Ham?" Betty asked. The ghoul who never looked like he enjoyed a day in his life had a voice that put many on the radio to shame.
MacCready, noticing her surprise, laughed and said to her, "Why the heck do you think we call him Ham?"
"Hell yeah, Ham!" Betty cheered.
She searched for her ghoul in the crowd. With his red coat, he was usually easy to seek out, but the bar was packed tighter than a can of cram. Betty squeezed through groups of residents, some offering their gratitude, others their congratulations and maybe a shot of moonshine or two. She passed a table dominated by the small and fiery Cricket...who took a shot before she spun the chamber of a revolver and put it to her head with maniacal laughter. Her guards cheered and just before she could pull the trigger, Betty snatched the gun from her hands and emptied it of bullets, tossing it on another table far from Cricket's grasp.
Now where the hell was that ghoul?
Hancock stood near Fahrenheit in the VIP section, finishing up his third cigarette in a row when Betty walked into a full house. Her smile lit up the party, as he knew it would. He watched his girl work the room, taking a few shots and preventing Cricket from blowing her brains out all over his god damn bar. Good call. He stabbed his smoke out and took a swig of whiskey.
"You think the tux is too much?" he asked one of the guards who stood just outside of the doorway.
"Looking sharper than ever, sir," the guard replied.
"God damn right I do, just like hearin' someone else say it."
"Is Betty here yet?" Fahrenheit asked as she tore her attention away from the scantily-clad woman draped across her lap.
"Yep, Ham just started crooning," Hancock said as he walked through the doorway.
Betty was pulled onto the dance floor and she tugged on the sleeves of her long coat. She caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar and stood a bit straighter, admiring herself for a moment. She was the General, the fucking General of the Minutemen. It was almost surreal. Not so long ago, she was crawling out of a vault, gasping for life and now here she was, running the show. All with the help of a ghoul, out of his mind with bloodlust and chems, who couldn't take his dark eyes off her. He..he was everything. She never believed she'd ever feel this way again.
"Mayor comin' through! Outta my way, god damn!" she heard Hancock shout from a couple of feet away.
The crowd parted just enough for Betty to see why she couldn't find Hancock right away. She expected his red frock coat and instead was greeted by her partner wearing a tuxedo finer than anything she'd seen in the wasteland. God damn, did he look good. It was almost enough for her to tear it off of him, but that she would save for later. A party was just what she needed.
"John! I love this, thank you!" Betty shouted over Ham's suave singing voice.
Hancock grinned as he took Betty's hand, giving her a short twirl before pulling her into his embrace and kissing her full on the mouth. The entirety of the bar cheered for the pair. It was true, they all loved their mayor and wanted nothing more for him than what unfolded before them.
Hancock pulled away from a breathless, blushing Betty and said, "Before you say or do anything, I got you somethin' special here."
He dug through his jacket pockets until he found a beat up mentats tin and handed it to her. She cocked her arched brow and smiled.
"Go ahead, take a peek," he encouraged, barely able to contain himself. Every thought, every feeling that surged through him felt brand new when he looked at Betty. Hancock often joked that what he felt for her was "about eighty percent as good" as chems, but it was a farce. He wouldn't tell Betty for many, many years that she was his greatest high in life.
Betty opened the tin and the unmistakeable scent of marijuana hit her right smack in the face. She squealed with delight, forcing Hancock's withered heart into his throat. Lord Almighty, was she ever beautiful. It was her smile that would be the death of him, he was sure. Betty threw herself into Hancock's arms, grabbed his face and kissed him back, warmth flooding her senses. Hancock thrust his fist above them and the bar exploded with a deafening roar of cheers for the pair.
He finally had his girl. Took him long enough.
"I know you ain't the surprisin' type but I figured, eh, why the hell not?" Hancock said to Betty before giving her a peck on her cheek.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" she asked.
"I ask myself that every day since I've met ya. Sometimes twice, 'specially when you make an impossible shot with that rifle of yours," said the ghoul. His hand slid down her hip and he grabbed a handful of her ass with a wink. "Now, I can get away with a lot more."
"That you can," Betty laughed and took his arm. "C'mon, let me show you my ride of choice."
Hancock led her over to the back room of the bar and took a seat in his favorite regal armchair. Betty searched for a spot to sit, trying her best not to look over at Fahrenheit, who's hands were roaming beneath her date's shirt. Hancock whistled, gaining Betty's attention, and pointed to his lap as he took a drink from Charlie.
"Charlie, I'd like to see a new seat for my Birdie here...I'm thinkin' maybe leather, red if you can swing it, on my left by tomorrow night. And uh...ya might wanna give Fahrenheit's spot a wash after while you're at it," Hancock tells the bartender, jerking his thumb in his bodyguard's direction as Betty settled into his lap.
"'Course, boss," Charlie answered, lowering his thrusters in respect. He turned to Betty and asked, "Would ya like anythin', General? Drink, spot o' tea, chems?"
"Whiskey, please" she replied after some thought. It was a party, after all, and this was the most polite Charlie had ever been towards Betty. She had to take advantage of that.
"Make it a double, hers and mine," said Hancock with a wink over her shoulder.
She tugged on his sleeve and asked, "Could you spare a few cigarettes for this little project of mine?"
He looked about for the last pack of cigarettes he'd seen, and groaned when he noticed it wedged between Fahrenheit and her company for the evening. Wincing, he reached between the women and yanked the crumpled box free. "Damn it, girl, I don't wanna see any of that from you!"
Fahrenheit came up for air, directing a loopy grin at Hancock before she answered, "I'll remember that next time, Dad.."
"There you go with the dad shit again," he replied, trying to hold back his laugh but failing. "Give me your damn smokes, your big ass crushed these."
Betty realized that Nick wasn't at the party and asked Hancock if he returned to Diamond City already.
"He might show up later but right now, I'm pretty sure he's nailin' Irma on that couch of hers."
Hancock gave Betty the pack of smokes and watched her lean over the table and gently squeeze out the tobacco from inside several cigarettes, setting aside the now empty filters. Betty opened the tin and inhaled the scent several times before she picked a few of the smaller buds and shredded them with her fingers.
"You gonna stuff that in the cigarette?" asked Hancock as he studied her motions.
She nodded and explained, "Unless you have some rolling papers laying about, these will do just fine. I used to make these so I could get away with smoking on campus."
His hand slipped beneath her coat and under her shirt, his touch warm against the bare skin of her back. "I love it when you're bad."
Betty smiled and held up three cigarettes, their ends twisted off, and kissed him before she slipped one of the cigarettes between his lips. She handed one to Fahrenheit, who smelled it several times with an arched brow, and kept one for herself.
"Same as a cigarette?" asked Fahrenheit. She held the joint to her mouth and nodded towards Hancock before she asked, "Should I skip this? Still gotta watch over his crazy ass."
"It'll get you a little loopy, but you should be all right. Effects last about an hour, longer if you smoke the whole thing in one shot," Betty explained.
Hancock lit his joint without hesitation and savored the harsh smoke before he coughed out, "Ho-ho-holy shiiiit...!"
The girls erupted with laughter and followed suit. After a half-hour, Betty made a few more of her pseudo-joints and the entirety of VIP was filled with a thick haze of smoke. The music continued outside the room and the floor was packed with the town residents dancing and drinking to their heart's content.
Betty was pretty stoned, and after two centuries, it hit her hard. The lights twinkled a bit brighter, the music sounded better, and the ghoul's hands on her skin made her tremble with pleasure. She wanted to move, to feel new things, hell, she wanted to dance.
She stood up, a wild grin on her face before she turned to her love and said, "Tell me you can dance-"
Hancock jumped to his feet.
"God damn, took ya forever to ask!" He loosened the knot on his tie before he grabbed her hand and said, "Come on, baby. Let's twist."
Betty laughed as Hancock shoved locals out of the way and dragged her onto the dancefloor. She had a feeling her ghoul would be up for a dance, but she didn't expect him to be so damn good at it, like he was at pretty much everything else he tried. Before the war, she got used to the idea that the men in her life just didn't dance even though she loved to herself. Now it it was her who could barely keep up with Hancock's twist. Even Fahrenheit joined in, and it was obvious who taught her to cut a rug. Beside her, MacCready danced with Piper, and he gave Betty a thumbs up as the reporter pressed her backside against him.
"Get 'em, kid!" Hancock shouted before he turned Betty out for a spin. He snatched a beer from the bar counter and chugged it in three gulps before he took the joint tucked behind her ear and lit it.
"Got the robots at Graygarden to grow this, ya know!" he shouted above the music. He cackled loudly and said, "Garvey has no idea!"
Betty plucked the joint from his mouth with a laugh and took a heavy drag before she passed it to MacCready, who cocked his head at the uncommon, slight citrus aroma. He took a hit and nodded with new interest.
"Take a few more drags," Betty mentioned and when it finally hit him, MacCready turned Piper and kissed her, which the reporter returned with much enthusiasm of her own.
"Man, we are gonna bank on this plant of yours," said Hancock with a laugh. The bar erupted with applause as Ham rolled in another keg.
"What else do you have hidden up your sleeve?" Betty murmured into his ear before she kissed him.
Hancock savored her bit of affection before he whispered, "We'd have to head to my office to find out, 'less you don't mind putting on a show."
Betty grabbed the ghoul's rough hand and pulled him through the crowd and up the stairwell, where MacCready and Piper had hidden themselves away, the merc's hand reaching beneath the reporter's green dress.
Man, this was a hell of a good night. And it was about to get better.
Outside the Third Rail, Hancock backed Betty against the crumbling brick wall and kissed her hard, the taste of whiskey on her tongue. His hands roamed past her hips as he gripped her backside and pressed himself against her.
"I'm gonna cuff ya to that god damn bed up there," he growled into her ear before he kissed her again. "It'll be weeks before we see sunlight again."
"Are you trying to get as many firsts with me as possible?" she asked with a grin.
Hancock couldn't hold back his smirk and said, "I don't know how to tell ya this but...I'm into some pretty crazy shit and handcuffs are nothin' in comparison."
Betty gulped and suggested, "How about..anything you spring on me, I try it on you first. Fair enough?"
"Done," said Hancock. He reached into his back pocket and held up a set of stainless steel handcuffs. "Cuff me."
Her hands settled on her hip and she asked, "You were carrying those around the entire time?"
"I bought 'em off Cricket after that night you felt me up. I knew you wanted to smash; just didn't know when." Hancock reached out and stroked Betty's ponytail with a soft smile. He twisted her hair between his fingers, relishing its softness, before he gripped it firmly, eliciting a startled gasp from his girl. "-That's a side of me you ain't seen much of. Glimpses, sure, always been a flirt. But you ain't seen nothin' yet."
Betty stared at him wide-eyed before she broke into a smile and whispered, "Prove it."
Hancock kissed her hard, his hand still a fist in her hair before they both rushed to the Old State House.
"Safe word's Jet!"
"What the hell is a safe word?"
Hancock glanced up at the night sky and laughedbefore he opened the door with a ram of his shoulder so forceful, one of its hinges tore from the wall.
"Instead of shoutin' out 'no', we're gonna use safe words. Ours is 'Jet'. Don't forget it...because I ain't gonna tell ya again," he explained as they ran up the wooden steps.
Betty jumped Hancock at the top of the stairs, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing his face and neck as he walked them to his bedroom. She tore off his jacket and tossed it aside before she reached into his back pocket and pulled out the handcuffs. She backed him against the edge of the bed as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, and her hands roamed to the bare skin of his muscles chest before she shoved him back.
She straddled him before his lips found hers with a groan on his part.
"Give me your hands," Betty breathed.
Hancock held up his palms with a smirk. "Yes ma'am. Sure you ain't done this before?"
The metal was cold against his skin as Betty cuffed his wrists to the wooden headboard of his bed.
"Never, but I get the idea."
Betty climbed off him and stood beside the bed as she pulled off her General's coat, kicked off her boots, and shimmied out of her pants. Hancock leaned back with an amused grin. This was going to be good. Betty tore at her shirt and ripped several buttons before she dropped it to the floorboards, her pale breasts heaving with each shaky breath.
His jaw dropped at the sight and he shouted, "You've been keepin' those from me?!"
"We wouldn't have gotten anything done otherwise."
"...Smart move, love. Now come over here and lemme put my face in 'em," he demanded.
Betty leaned forward, pushing her breasts together just out of Hancock's reach, and the ghoul struggled at his restraints, even sticking his tongue out to no avail, and Betty leaned back with a laugh.
"Pretty sure you're not in a position to tell me what to do, John," she said.
Her fingers drifted over her hardened nipples, down her stomach and over her underwear, pulling them down. She turned away and bent over as she pulled the thin cloth down to her ankles, giving Hancock one hell of an eyeful.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he said under his breath when his dark eyes fell upon her slit. He heard Betty laugh softly before she reached behind her and spread her cheeks apart. The ghoul groaned again at the sight and pulled at the cuffs, the metal digging into his skin as the headboard creaked with his effort to escape.
Betty reached down and undid the buckle of his belt before doing the same for the two buttons of his slacks. Her mind hummed with lust, untouched for more than two centuries. She wrapped her hand around his length, earning herself a rare shudder from the hotshot ghoul.
"Big heart, big cock," she said with a smile. "It's a wonder you've never mentioned it before."
"I like keepin' it a surprise," he said with smug grin.
"Aren't I lucky? I can't wait until you fuck me with it."
"Jesus, that pot shit gives ya a hell of a dirty mouth. What else can you do with it?" he goaded her.
Betty unzipped his pants and said, "I was just about to show you."
Hancock slammed his head into the headboard with a sharp breath as she wrapped her lips around the head of his length. He groaned as she took more of him into her mouth. She was way too good at this. He watched her head bob up and down, her mouth warm and wet around the jagged skin of his cock.
"Just like that, love," he murmured.
The ghoul had always been proud of his stamina in bed, but with the way his girl was working her mouth on him brought him to the very edge.
"Almost there..almost.." he panted. Betty pulled away just as he reached the brink and he shouted, "The fuck? What the fuck are you doing?"
She smiled and said, "Well, it wouldn't be any fun if you popped right now, would it?"
"But I can go again in less than five! Betty, c'mon, stop bein' such a cocktease-"
"-Keep talking and I'll leave you cuffed to this bed. I can always go back to the party without you."
Hancock opened his mouth and Betty stood up, her hands on her hips. He'd never wanted anyone as badly as he did at that moment. The handcuffs started to cut into his wrists as he pulled at them again and she smiled before she grabbed a chair beside the door.
"I want to do something I've never done for anyone," said Betty as she sat down on the chair. Hancock nodded and she lifted one leg onto the bed. "You can watch."
Her fingers slipped between her thighs and the ghoul swallowed hard as she began to touch herself. She moaned, and he continued to fight against the cuffs, pulling harder and harder with every moan from Betty's lips. She spread her lips apart with one hand and pushed two of her fingers inside herself.
"I don't want you to come yet," said Hancock. "I wanna be the one who makes that gorgeous body of yours tremble."
"Oh?" she asked. "Too bad."
Betty straddled Hancock again before she slid her wet fingers into his mouth and he groaned at the taste of her on his tongue.
"Ain't ever tasted anyone as sweet as you, love," Hancock said to her. She reached down between them and slipped her fingers inside herself again before she brought them to her own mouth and for the first time in his life, Hancock found himself begging.
"Please...please, just sit on my cock, come on..you don't even gotta uncuff me," he whispered. "I'll destroy this entire town if it means I get to be inside of you."
Betty kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth as she moaned. The thought of him inside of her, filling her with every thick inch of him, made her consider uncuffing him, but she was enjoying his pleading words a little too much to do that yet. She sat up and wrapped her hand around his cock again before she rubbed it against her wet slit.
"Is this what you want?" she asked.
"Yes, god yes!"
"I don't know," she teased. "I don't think you've made a good enough case..."
Hancock couldn't take it anymore. He had to have her and he wouldn't wait one more minute. He gave one final attempt at freedom from his binds with a mighty pull and the headboard gave way.
Betty's jaw dropped and she whispered "Oh shi-"
-He looped his arms around his girl and pulled her against his chest, the cuffs digging into her spine as his dark eyes narrowed.
"Did you really think a pair of handcuffs could hold me back?" Hancock asked. She shook her head and his eyes caught the glint of a bobby pin behind her ear. He smirked and told her, "I always find a way."
His cuffed hands reached up for the back of her neck and his kiss was enough distraction to pull the bobby pin free with his fingertips without Betty noticing a thing. Hancock brought his wrists to the small of her back and he picked at the lock as he smiled at Betty. The handcuffs fell away and his hand was at her throat in an instant. He waited for a few moments, expecting Betty to shout out "Jet!" but when he gave her throat a gentle squeeze, she moaned and he had to grin.
"I didn't think you'd have it in ya, to keep up with me. I love that you keep provin' me wrong." He held up the cuffs and whispered, "Your turn."
Betty pushed away from Hancock and scrambled from the bed. He lunged forward, his hand catching her ankle, and they tumbled to the floorboards. He closed the cuffs around her wrists and stood up, pulling Betty to her feet, before he pinned her against the wall beside the bed. He spread her legs apart with his knee and pressed himself against the silky wetness between her thighs.
"How bad do you want me?" he asked her. "Say it."
"More than anything," she answered with a moan. "I want you inside of me...please, John."
He almost came right then when she said his name.
"Again," he growled.
"Please," Betty begged. "Please fuck me, John."
Hancock pushed into her and his knees weakened at her warmth surrounding his cock. Betty cried out and his lips crushed hers to stifle his own grunt of pleasure. He brought her cuffed wrists to his neck and reached down, lifting her leg to wrap it around his waist before he thrust every inch of himself deep inside of her. His breath caught in his throat when Betty's eyes met his stare.
"I love you," Hancock confessed. He thrust into her again, harder than before. "God damn, I am crazy in love with you."
"Oh, John," Betty kissed him hard. "I love you, too."
Hancock couldn't hold back his grin as he pounded into her flesh, her moans urging him on. He reached between them and rubbed at her most pleasurable spot with his thumb and she cried out again. If she came, he would too. He couldn't take much more.
"Don't..don't ever leave me-" she breathed into his ear. He shook his head and his thrusts became more frantic and desperate.
"-I won't," he grunted. "I'll die before I do."
Her walls clenched tight around his cock as she came, her nails digging into the back of neck, overwhelmed with the wave of pleasure surging through every nerve. He slammed his fist into the wall as he spilled into her and his moan shook her to the very core.
The pair sank to the floor, their chests rising and falling almost in unison as Betty buried her face into the crook of Hancock's neck with a final shudder. He kissed the top of her head several times and held her close until they could both catch their breath.
"I do love you, John," said Betty. "I thought I'd never feel this way again."
"Love you, Birdie," he whispered, his fingers stroking the skin of her breast. "Man...I'm gonna be real mad if this turns out to be one big Jet flashback."
They both burst with laughter until tears fell.
"Up for another round?" Betty asked with a raised brow.
"You even gotta ask?"