"Let's get the fuck outta here," Jericho said, moving away to the rocks that had fallen. He started to grab at the wall, trying to pull them out.
"Are you an idiot," Emily said, "or are you trying to get killed?"
He shot her a glare. "Maybe I'm just tryin' to protect my investment," he grumbled, loosening a rock and shoving it to the ground with a grunt.
"Oh, what-ever," she groaned, and backed away from him. "Knock yourself out again and I'm not giving you another stimpak."
Jericho laughed, grunting with effort. "Think you're such hot shit, don't ya?"
Emily fixed him with a glare. "Fuck you, you know I am."
He laughed louder, turning to look at her. "See, this is what I fuckin' meant." His eyes swept up her body and he nodded, turning back to the rocks. "You drop the stupid act, and we're just fine."
She crossed her arms and watched him pulling at the rocks for a moment. I dunno, I guess he's not as terrible as I made him out to be―her brain kicked her in the forehead, reminding her of the shit he'd done. Okay, he is terrible. But hell, he hasn't tried to kill me, like―or put me up on a goddamn pedestal, or whatever the hell Irving was up to―
Emily sucked snot up into her head and breathed out slowly. She hadn't thought about either of those two for as long as she'd been drunk―like two weeks straight or something, she figured. Didn't want to start now, fuck them, they both left her, and it would probably only break her heart again to think―she pushed the emotion away and locked it into a cage inside her mind, turning her back on it.
Hadn't had many thoughts about Butch, either. Dammit, what the hell was wrong with her? Butch was dead and she couldn't even feel anything for him. Couldn't even bring herself to cry for him, and she knew he deserved more than that. More than that little thread of guilt worming it's way up into her mind.
Emily stared at Jericho, watching him scraping his fingernails across the rocks, seeing him put entirely too much effort into trying to get free. Jericho was pretty strong, maybe not as strong as Ch―but he was an old man, and not a ghoul. He knew his shit in the wastes, was tough as hell to have lived to his old age. Knew what the hell he was doing with his rifle, that was for sure. Emily couldn't even line up a shot half the damn time without her arms trembling from the weight of the infiltrator.
And―well, she'd thought way back when that he was a real man. He was. She'd never thought of him as anything else. Heard him talking to Nova once, thought that he was pretty sad at times. She didn't think his offer to take care of Nova was just fluff talk. That bit about having a lot of money, Emily snorted, yeah, that was probably a lie, but...
He wanted more than just sex, if he was asking Nova to go with him. A man didn't ask a woman to live with him just because of sex―not if he could have it anytime he wanted, beforehand. She knew Jericho really liked sex, but so did she. Shamefully so, sometimes. Emily stomped a foot down on the memories of what he'd done to her, and held it down. They were even, now. He was right about that.
If he was willing to try to get along, maybe she ought to try too.
"Do you ever get lonely," she asked, quietly.
"What?" The ex-raider's head swiveled to stare at her. "Look, you gonna fuckin' help me with this, or just watch me strut my stuff?" Emily flushed and he turned back to the wall.
"I mean... do you ever just need a friend or something," she said, sucking snot up into her head.
"Like I'd need a goddamn friend," he muttered, grunting and pulling at another rock. "All I need is some booze and a warm hand. Preferably one that ain't mine."
"You're so gross," Emily mumbled, moving forward to help him.
"Like you're any better," he grumbled. "Fuckin' about with your monster."
"How does that qualify as civil," she shot at him, dislodging a rock.
Jericho laughed and coughed, spitting out a wad of snot. "Tit for fuckin' tat, Emily."
She was startled, dropped the rock she was holding and hissed out a curse when it hit her foot and smashed her toes. Jericho just laughed at her, of course. After a moment of limping around she moved back to the rocks and started moving them again.
"There's a hole―" she leaned over the rocks and looked through. Could see just barely to the other side.
"Get outta the way, let me get it." Jericho pulled her back by one arm and started moving rocks out of the hole, throwing them behind himself.
"Gonna hurt yourself, old man," Emily poked, pushing her hair behind an ear.
"Knock that shit off," Jericho said. He was all business, now. All tough as nails and not putting up with teasing. Emily sighed and leaned against the wall, watching him.
After a minute or two, Jericho motioned for her to come over. When she did, he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her through the hole, head first.
"Ow! You rotten motherfu―" Emily fell out of the hole after Jericho laid a hand right on her crotch and shoved her out.
"Shut the fuck up, stupid," he yelled back, and kept removing rocks. "Got your ass out. Hah, you owe me four times, now!"
Emily stood and brushed herself off, rubbing the scrape on the arm she'd gotten from going through. She lifted her Pip-Boy and looked at it. Nothing on the motion tracker, except for her and Jericho. She moved back and helped him make the hole wider.
"Hell, I'm surprised you fit through that with your enormous tits," he grumbled, after he'd pulled himself through.
"I'm taking that as a compliment," she growled, staring at him. "But you have to stop making comments like that, asshole."
Jericho just snickered, shoved her forward, and started off through the tunnel again, back to the junction.
Simms and Billy were back at the beginning of the tunnels, and were surprised to see them. Dusty as all hell and sore from having rocks fall on them, and Jericho was complaining he didn't get to shoot anyone. Emily rolled her eyes at him and followed Simms out of the school.
"Wasn't nothing back there, but we've got a plan," Simms told her, as they were heading back home. "Billy is going to set explosives and collapse the tunnel."
"That's why he's staying behind?"
The sheriff turned and nodded. "Got to make sure. Listen, Emily..."
"I'm fine," she said, tiredly. "We were both using our best manners. No one did anything stupid, not even Jericho."
"Glad to hear that." Simms let out a relieved noise. "I was mighty afraid for a moment, there."
"I don't think he'll do anything that stupid, again." Emily rubbed her nose. "We had a talk. Agreed on some things. It went about as well as could be expected for the old ass." She shot Jericho a glance, and saw him watching her ass again. Emily glared at him, and turned back to Simms.
"I'm still not all that comfortable coming to stay with you, sheriff," she added, slowly.
"Where else you plan to go?" Simms asked, plainly.
"Well..." Emily sighed. "I dunno, I just don't think it's gonna work all that great."
"You stay at my place tonight," he replied, "and tomorrow, after we all eat breakfast and go break up a fight or two, you can figure out something."
Emily rubbed her nose again. Damn dust itched. She'd almost forgotten how dusty the area outside of the Vault was. "I could just go and stay at Moriarty's."
"And get fleeced of all your caps in less than a week," Simms said, amused. He jammed his hat further down on his head. "Man's got business sense."
Emily chuckled, dryly. "Yeah, I know. But it doesn't look right on you, sheriff. Me moving in. Between my reputation and your―umm―" She bit down on her tongue and looked down, feeling guilty.
"Manya told you, then," Simms said, looking out at the gates of Megaton.
"Wouldn't trust anyone else to give the truth," Emily admitted. "I get that you don't want to talk about it."
"No, I don't," he answered, striding forward and ahead of her. "And I don't rightly care what people will think of your reputation, because we're about to fix that."
Emily watched him walking faster, and debated on speeding herself up to match it, but figured he probably needed a moment to himself. She fell in with the others, ending up beside Jericho and crinkling her nose at the smell.
"Damn, man, you stink," she muttered.
"You don't smell great, neither," he chuckled. Seemed like he was in a good mood. Didn't curse or call her a name.
"Don't you ever bathe?" Emily pinched her nose and breathed shallowly.
"Might, if I had a reason to." He looked over at her, hiking a corner of his mouth up. "Maybe I do."
Emily ignored him. They made their way into Megaton, and started down the path. Jericho turned to face her, walking sideways. "You telling tales to the cowboy again?"
"I was trying to figure where I'm sleeping," she snapped. "Simms is gonna put me up in his place for tonight."
Jericho stopped and grabbed her arm, holding her tight. "What's this shit?" he asked, his voice getting hard.
"Just somewhere to sleep, man," she replied.
"Nah," he said, and pulled her closer. "Nah, I don't fuckin' think so. You don't go anywhere but where I go, you hear me?"
"What, you think just 'cause we got a truce, I'm gonna play all friendly again?" Emily growled, scraping her nails across his hand.
"This ain't a truce," he hissed. "I ain't lettin' some goddamn idiot in a fuckin' stupid-as-shit hat step in on my territory, you hear me?" His fingers dug into her arm tighter.
"Since when am I your 'territory'―"
"Since you gave me a fuckin' chance! Are you really that dumb, or did you lose your brains on the way back?" Jericho released her arm with a slight shove. "What did you think I meant, askin' shit like that!"
"Well, I sure as hell didn't think you meant we should go steady!" she snarled, stomping down the path toward the bomb. "What the hell, Jericho―"
"Goddamn―you're about as dumb as that idiot sheriff," Jericho came up behind her, put an arm around her waist, and crushed her to his side.
Emily swore to herself. This was definitely not what she'd intended―
"You listen to me, Emily. I ain't no goddamn pushover. I take care of shit. I'll take care of you, but you gotta behave. Your fuckin' stupid slut act ain't behavin'," he breathed into her ear. She jerked away and swore out loud. Fucker licked her ear, gross.
"I'm not your damn property! And Simms is my boss, you idiot!" She tried to pry his fingers off her side. "You're acting like I don't know how to keep my pants on, and that isn't fair!"
"It is true, though," someone else said, and Emily's head whipped up and around to see who would say something like that. "Hello, Emily," Irving said, sitting at the counter of the Brass Lantern.
Wha―why was he here―he'd left her at Rivet City, said he was done with―thought she'd never see him again― ...Oh, dammit, Emily groaned to herself. If he was up to his old tricks, she'd get kicked out of town faster than Moriarty would grab at a lost cap―
A shiver went through her, then, and Jericho picked up on it. "Who's this fuckin' asshole?" he asked in a low voice.
"Someone I know," she replied, finally prying his hand off her side and narrowing her eyes at him. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Irving?" she asked, making sure he understood she wasn't happy.
"I heard about your house," he said, putting his cheek in his hand and leaning onto the counter, staring at her. Nothing in his face to indicate any emotion. Completely casual about the whole thing.
Emily sighed, painfully. "Yeah," she said.
"I see you're doing just fine, though," he said, and turned back to the counter.
Ignoring her. After all that craziness in Annapolis―Emily narrowed her eyes at him. If that was how he was gonna be...
"Thank you for being concerned," she said, fending off Jericho's hand. "I'll see you around, Irving."
Emily walked back up the hill and away from him, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her.
She couldn't admit how stupid she'd been about Irving, even to herself.