Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’d known he’d end up in trouble. The minute she walked into that back room, hovering behind Winlock and Barnes like he couldn’t see her, he’d known. Maybe it was instinct, or the fact that the blue vault suit she was wearing screamed that she didn’t belong in the Third Rail, or even Goodneighbor. She was as conspicuous as a Deathclaw in a dance hall, and he should’ve turned her down and saved himself the trouble of saving her ass. But he was hard up for caps, and she didn’t flinch at his price, even when that robotic butler of hers urged her to rethink the situation.

Yeah, he’d known she was trouble. He just hadn’t realized what kind.

She seemed nice enough as he followed her through the backroads towards Sanctuary Hills. A little naive, but decent with a gun, and smart enough to know when to keep her head down. When trouble reared it’s head in the form of bloatflies or Raiders, she let him call the shots and do what he was paid to do, which was keep her alive. By the time they reached Sanctuary, even her robot had told him he’d done well, however grudgingly. Of course, he probably said everything grudgingly, if he was anything like Charlie at the Rail. All in all, Mac thought he’d gotten a great deal. Especially when he saw the rows of neat little houses, each with its own fenced yard. Some even had furniture, right out there in the open air! As they crossed the rickety bridge, a figure in a trench coat and one of those funny Minuteman hats he’d always secretly admired came up, barely sparing him a glance before turning to his employer.

“Ma’am. I’m sorry to bother you, but . . .”

Mac didn’t miss the way her eyebrow shot up, a barely there smirk twisting the corner of her mouth. She expected something, and not necessarily something pleasant.

“ . . . we’re really in need of some help around here. There’s so much to do to make this place livable. Jun’s no good right now, Marcy’s just so angry all the time, and Mama Murphy-“

“Yeah,” she huffed, half laughing.

“There’s just Sturges. I’d help him out, but somebody’s gotta keep an eye out for trouble. Besides, I’m no good at that stuff. But, since you said you had some engineering experience, I thought that, maybe . . . ?”

“Sure,” she sighed, shoulders slumping. “But . . . can it wait until tomorrow? I’m exhausted right now, and I need to show the new guy where to bunk.”

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards him, and he drew his brows together. He was just opening his mouth to object to being called ‘the new guy’, when the trench-coated figure frowned.

“I, uh . . . I guess. Folks aren’t real happy about spending another night without clean water-“

“Then tell them to get some purified water from Codsworth, and that I’ll get to it in the morning. But if I don’t get some rest, I’m likely to build something that will just make the water even more irradiated, and that won’t help anyone.”

Mac could see how badly trench wanted to object, and it sent a bolt of fury through his system. Hadn’t she said she’d get to it? Hadn’t she already told him ‘no’ twice? He had no personal feelings about the girl either way, but he couldn’t stand the thought of somebody pushing his boss around like that, or anyone, really. He was just opening his mouth, a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue, when trench backed down.

“Okay, ma’am. If you insist. I have something else I’d like to talk to you about as well, but since you’re so tired, I’ll save it until morning.”

With that, he marched off, laser rifle over his shoulder. For a few minutes Mac stared after him, then he shook his head.

“Jeez. Where the hell- heck did you pick that guy up?”

“Concord,” she said, matter of fact. “Museum of freedom.”

“He one of the exhibits?”

She snorted in laughter, then turned to him with a grin.

“Don’t mind Preston. He’s kinda responsible for all these guys. He doesn’t mean to be a pushy dickhead, he’s just lost a lot of people recently. Twenty, now down to five.”

“Shi- I mean shoot. That sucks.”

“Yeah. S’why I’m here, why I hired you. I’m . . . .” She sighed. “Let’s just say I’m not exactly from around here. But they need help, and I need help to help them.”

She lead him past a couple of workbenches and a campfire, into a building that was mostly in tact. Beds had been set up in what he supposed had once been the kitchen, and he assumed she’d lead him to one of these. Instead, she continued through, into a small room in the back of the house. A pair of bunk beds were pushed against one wall, and, on the other, a small dresser.

“I hope you don’t mind sharing a room with me. It’s just, the other beds are spoken for. I could probably bunk with Mama Murphy, if you do, but-“

“It’s fine,” he rushed out. “I can sleep anywhere. Mostly.”

“Well, as we discussed previously, I won’t be sticking a knife in your back. And no one barges in here. They at least let me have the privacy of my own bedroom, since I helped them, and I’m sure that extends to you too, if you’re in here. So feel free to let it all hang out.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Not really interested in ‘letting it hang out’ just yet,” he mused. “But, hey, if that’s what you’re into, don’t let me stop you.”

He’d meant it as a joke, some sarcasm to cover the fact that he was feeling a little awkward at the prospect of sharing a room. He hadn’t shared a room with anyone, particularly someone who seemed, for all intents and purposes, to be a girl, since Lucy. What he hadn’t expected was for her to bark out a laugh, then tell him he couldn’t stop her if he tried. Then, while he looked on, stunned, she peeled off the top half of the vault suit and unhooked her bra, removing it and tossing it into a small pile on the floor. The smooth expanse of her back was on display as she searched through a drawer, complete with a scrolling tattoo between her shoulders that he couldn’t quite make out. She finally found a t-shirt, and just as quickly as it had appeared, her back disappeared beneath it as she turned to face him. While wiggling the rest of the way out of her vault suit, she looked up at him with a grin.

“Like the taste of flies?”

He blinked.

“What?”

“Your mouth is hanging open, you’ll catch flies that way.”

His mouth snapped closed on instinct, and as she slid into the lower bunk, he settled on his back on the top. She was trouble, alright. He was just trying to decide if it was good or bad. On one hand, she seemed nice, and she’d paid him. On the other . . . she seemed REALLY nice. She’d taken up with a group of settlers she’d only just met, and was now helping them to get their new home in full working order. That sort of kindness could get you killed, and HE was the one watching her back. He didn’t doubt his skills, but walking into a situation where he was trying to keep someone alive when they had a target on their back wasn’t exactly his idea of fun.

“So . . ,” he said, finally. “How exactly did you end up with these guys?”

He figured the more info he had, the better. The worst she could do was say no.

“Short story, or long?”

“Short.”

She hummed in thought for a moment.

“Found them in Concord when I was looking for help. Took down some raiders, then a deathclaw, and followed ‘em back here.”

“Woah . . . wait. Back up. I think I might need the long story here. You killed raiders AND a deathclaw? While looking for ‘help’? And you hired ME? What kinda help do you need, exactly? And what’d you mean ‘back here’?”

She sighed below him, and he wasn’t sure if it was in preparation to tell the story or tell him to fuck off. Then she spoke.

“Okay. Square one. You noticed the vault suit, yeah?”

“Sure. Figured you stole it, or traded for it, something like that.”

“Nope. All mine. Got it when I went in . . . about two hundred years ago.”

Silence fell as Mac took the info in, trying to make sense of it.

“You still with me up there?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “But . . . two hundred years? I’ve seen ghouls, and you don’t look like a ghoul to me.”

“Ghouls? Oh- like Hancock, right? In Goodneighbor?”

“Yeah. How do you not know what a ghoul is if you’ve been around for two hundred years?”

“Wasn’t awake for most of it. Two centuries ago, I lived here, in Sanctuary Hills. Or at least, my dad did. I was away in college. But, at the time the bombs dropped, I was visiting. My dad, his wife, and their new kid. The sirens started, and we all ran to the vault. I figured I’d get turned away, but they’d gotten space for me, too. Packed us in these ‘depressurization tubes’. Next thing I know, I’m cold as ice, and everything’s black. Minute after that, tube’s open, and I’m stumbling out, shivering, coughing . . . and everyone else is dead.”

“Jesu- jeez. That’s a lot to deal with.”

“Yeah. Only old Codsworth left. Stuck with him a little while, then he suggested I head to Concord, find some other people. And I ran into the other guys, stuck in the museum. They needed help, I was there. My dad had been in the military, which was why we got space in the vault, by the way, and he’d taught me to shoot. So I did what I had to. Now we’re all here, so I’m not alone, but . . . well, there’s other things I have to do. And I need someone to watch my back while I do it. In Diamond City, they said check Goodneighbor. Your name came up . . . and here we are.”

“But . . . everyone else . . . your dad, and . . . .”

“And his wife. But . . . .”

She chewed her lip a minute, trying to decide if she wanted to tell him or not. She’d only vaguely mentioned it to the other settlers, and then only because the older lady, Mama Murphy, had brought it up.

“Their kid. I . . . I think he might be out here somewhere. My dad was . . ,” she took a deep breath. “He’d been shot. And I didn’t see the kid’s body anywhere. Maybe someone took him, maybe it was forever ago and he’s dead, or maybe it was the same day I got out. But I gotta find out for sure. For my dad.”

If anyone understood that feeling, it was him. He could’ve told her, opened up to her and shared his own problems. But he didn’t. Instead, he spoke quietly into the darkness above him.

“Yeah. I get it. Um . . . good luck with that. I hope you find him, I really do.”

Then he rolled to his side, closed his eyes, and drifted into a fitful, dreamless sleep. By the following morning, they both acted as if the conversation had never happened, though he definitely felt as if he understood her a little better. Especially when trench coat from last night . . . Preston, she’d called him . . . cornered her as they were shoving a quick breakfast down. She’d recognized his footsteps even as he approached from behind, and wished him a good morning, despite the slight frown she wore.

“Ma’am, if I could continue the conversation we were having last night?”

She sighed, putting down her bowl at her feet.

“I’m starting work on the water purification system as soon as I’m done here. That’ll take a generator, but I know where to find the basic parts for that, and I’ll make sure we have more juice than we’ll need for a while. I’ll also set it up so we’ll be able to expand easily as we need to. It might take a day or two, but hopefully no longer than that. Especially with the Red Rocket just over the bridge.”

“Yes ma’am,” Preston nodded, glancing at MacCready. “But . . . well, we need food, too. We’ve scrounged through the houses and gathered as much as we can, but it’s going to run out eventually. So I was thinking, while you’re out, you could look for anything we can plant here, to make us self-reliant.”

“While I’m out?”

“That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. I got word from a nearby settlement. Something about trouble with raiders? Anyway, they were hoping there were still some Minutemen available, to help them out. My hands are full here, so, I was hoping . . . ?”

“Right,” she sighed. “Anything else?”

“Not at the moment.”

Mac watched him disappear before raising an eyebrow.

“Do these people even know how to wipe their asses without you?”

After a snort of laughter, she shook her head, then stood.

“C’mon MacCready. Let’s teach you how to build a water purification system, complete with generator.”

“You really know how to do that?”

Turned out, she did, and far faster than he’d have thought. By mid-afternoon, they had the basic structure of the purifier set up, and she had the components of the generator laid out before her. All he’d really done was help her move the things too heavy for her to move alone, and hold things where she asked him to.

“Where the hell did you learn all this?” MacCready finally asked her.

“I was an engineering student,” she stated simply, as if that explained everything. “My dad was a mechanic in the army, and he always loved to tinker with things. We built an engine together when I was ten. A generator when I was thirteen. And the water purification system here? That was gonna be my final project in college. Of course, I’ve had to make do a bit more, so it’s not as efficient now, but-“

“It’s still a damn- darn good system.”

He paused for a few minutes before speaking again.

“You know, I feel kinda bad. I don’t even know your name.”

She smiled at him, holding out a dirty hand.

“Polaris Sullivan. Poe. And I assume MacCready works for you?”

“It’ll do.”

By that evening, the generator was up and running, and the purification system was so close to done that she could leave the final bits with Sturges, allowing them to head out the following morning. Though he wasn’t looking forward to running around on missions for trench . . . Preston . . . he was very, very interested in finding out more about Polaris Sullivan.

Chapter Text

It was a mostly uneventful walk to Tenpines Bluff, so MacCready amused himself by seeing how far away he could be and still shoot down the enormous bugs that occasionally crossed their path. As far as he was concerned, it was a win-win situation. The bugs were down before they had a chance to hassle them, and he got to show off. But every time he looked at Poe after striking one down, she just wore this smirk, one eyebrow raised. When he’d finally lost track of how many he’d shot, he lowered his gun, then cleared his throat to get her attention.

“So . . . you impressed yet?”

“Should I be?”

She kept striding forward, a soft smile teasing at her lips. No vault suit today, just jeans and a worn t-shirt, an old flannel tossed over it for warmth in the chill autumn air.

“Come on! You’ve got skills . . . you’ve gotta know talent when you see it.”

“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

Mac groaned in frustration. This was NOT how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to make a few long distance shots, then she’d ooh and ahh over him for a little while.

“I’ve hit every single bug I’ve aimed at . . . one shot. Sometimes they’re so far away you can hardly even see them!”

She turned to him with a grin.

“Alright, alright. I noticed, asshole. Very impressive. You should consider trying to make a living at it.”

“Oh, ha ha. Comedian.”

He fell in step beside her again.

“I’m self-taught, y’know. Figured it was smarter to hit targets from as far away as possible. So, when I was ten, I picked up a sniper rifle and I never looked back. ‘Course, you needed every advantage you could come up with, back in the Capital Wasteland.”

“D.C.?”

“Used to be. I was born there. Never knew my parents, though. Grew up in an underground place called Little Lamplight. No grown-ups. Once you turned sixteen, you left. After that, I just sort of wandered around, place to place. Ended up here. Then I fell in with the Gunners. Worst mistake I ever made. They killed anything and everything that got in their way. The caps were good, but I couldn’t take it. So I quit. Next thing I know this crazy lady who’s out to help a group of settlers hires me, and my whole life goes to shit.”

He cut his eyes towards her, pleased to see his joke had landed. She was wearing a gentle, sweet smile, and, in spite of himself, MacCready felt his heart beat just a little faster. To cover it, he turned the conversation back to her.

“So what about you? What was your childhood like?”

She groaned in fake distress.

“We’re doing this? This whole ‘opening up and sharing our childhood trauma’?”

“Well, fair’s fair,” he joked.

“If I’d known that, I’d have plugged my ears.” She sighed. “Fine. But . . . well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

After taking a deep breath, she started with a statement that floored him.

“My mom died when I was ten.”

“Ah, jeez, I didn’t-“

She shook her head, then swallowed hard.

“It’s okay, really. And I’m not saying it for sympathy or anything, it’s just the truth. My mom died when I was ten. And Nate? The guy who-“ she paused to take a deep breath, “-who was killed? He’s not even my real dad. Or . . . wasn’t. My mom married him when I was just a baby. I don’t even know who my biological dad was. But Nate was as good as my dad. He’s the one who raised me, taught me about engines, machines. The reason I wanted to be an engineer. And when my mom died, he raised me. Just me and him, us against the world, as he’d put it.”

She smiled faintly, and MacCready found himself smiling with her.

“He didn’t even date again until my last year of high school. Said I was the only woman he needed in his life, until I could take care of myself. When I could, he met Nora. They got married while I was gone.”

She went quiet for a minute, and got a faraway look on her face. Mac wondered if he’d done the wrong thing by asking her about her childhood, because she seemed suddenly sad, like the weight of the world had just been dumped on her shoulders.

“That visit, before the world blew up? That was the first time I’d met Shaun. Nora I knew. Didn’t like her, really, but I liked that she made Nate happy. Now . . . .”

She didn’t finish, but he could guess what she’d been about to say. ‘Now they’re gone.’ It’s what he would’ve said in the situation. It seemed suddenly important to him that she know more about him, that she understood that he got where she was coming from.

“Hey . . . can I tell you something? Seriously, for a minute.”

She nodded.

“I know . . . I know I can seem pretty arrogant, okay? Full of myself, like I don’t care, and, like I want to be alone, maybe. But, really, nothing could be farther from the truth. The idea of being alone . . . it scares the heck outta me. I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . it’s been kinda nice, being around you. I know you hired me and all, but I’d like to think we can be friends, too.”

“Road’s a lonely place, huh?”

“You’re not kidding,” he half laughed.

“Well . . ,” she started, looping her arm through his, “maybe we’ll both find what we need out here.”

With that, she rested her head on his shoulder. It was only for a second, and then she let him go, and they walked side by side, just as they had been before. But for MacCready, it felt different. Even in the silence, there was an intimacy that hadn’t been there before, or the potential for it, anyway. He felt like, just maybe, she was someone he could depend on . . . and he planned on doing everything he could to make sure it stayed that way.

At Tenpines, it was just as they’d figured it. Some dumb Raiders, in it for themselves, out to take what they wanted. Though they were holed up a decent distance away, they decided it was worth it to go ahead and make the trek. Worst case, they’d clear the place, then camp there until morning. If they were lucky, though, they’d be able to make it through quickly, then at least get back to the settlement, maybe even home. As they headed out, MacCready hummed for a minute under his breath, then spoke.

“Hey, uh . . . word to the wise? We should avoid Lexington as much as we can. Word is ferals have the place overrun. I don’t know about you, but I’m not interested in taking a risk like that.”

“MacCready? Bear with me here, but . . . what are ferals?”

“Ah, shi- shoot. Yeah, you know how we were talking about ghouls? Well, ferals are like that, but worse. Nothing human left in ‘em.” He paused, a dark, distant look on his face. “I’ve seen ‘em tear people apart in seconds. It’s . . . not something I’d like to see again. Ever.”

He stared straight ahead, eyes fixed in the distance. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw her almost stop, looking at him. Something crossed her face- anger, pity, maybe understanding. Like she knew what it was he hadn’t said. Either way, when she spoke, it was in a hard, determined voice.

“Then you won’t.”

Damned if he didn’t believe her.

They approached the Corvega Assembly Plant cautiously, stopping at a fair distance for Mac to check it out through his scope. While she squatted beside him, he scanned the site a few times, counting and recounting the Raiders he saw. On his third pass, he breathed out quietly beside her.

“I see five on the outside, near the door. Turret, too. But there’s a catwalk going up to the roof, and you can bet there’s more.”

He passed her the rifle, giving her a chance to look through the scope. He watched her shift methodically from one place to another a few times before putting it down and turning to him.

“Shot turrets before?”

“A few, yeah.”

“How many shots before it explodes?”

“Three to five,” he shrugged. “Depending on where I hit.”

“You see the guy up top? On the catwalk near the edge of the roof?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you could hit him so he falls over the edge?”

“Yeah, but-“

She smiled, and suddenly Mac caught on. A wide grin spread across his face.

“Not bad.”

“I have my moments,” she teased. “So . . . you shoot from here, get the guy to fall. The rest will run to see what’s happening, all near the turret, while I head to the opposite side there. You hit the turret a few times, it explodes, and we take care of any leftovers from both sides, so they’re confused. When it’s clear, we haul ass to the door before anyone else shows, right?”

“Sounds good to me. You . . . uh, you okay to shoot?”

“Don’t trust me?”

“Look,” he sighed. “No offense, but I haven’t exactly seen you in action.”

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

She winked, then placed a quick peck on his cheek that made his ears hot and his throat dry.

“Good luck, Mac,” she hissed, and then she was gone.

The next time he saw her, she was laughing like a maniac as a flaming raider body pinwheeled through the air, landing somewhere in the distant grass. As they met near the doorway, they grabbed hold of each other, trying not to fall over in their laughter. As she clapped him hard on his shoulder, she shook her head.

“Perfect. Fucking. Shot. You’re amazing!”

“About time you noticed! You’re not so bad yourself, y’know.” He wiped at his eyes, trying to steady himself as they stopped to catch their breath. “Oh man . . . did you see that guy? The minute he realized someone was shooting . . . BOOM!”

Their voices dropped to nothing as they entered the factory, broad smiles the only remnant of the laughter that had been erupting a few minutes before. Yeah, it had been fun taking out those dicks outside, but that didn’t mean the whole thing was some kind of game. They both knew there’d be serious consequences if they slipped, an didn’t intend for that to happen.

MacCready made to move forward from his spot squatted next to Poe, but she put out a hand to stop him. He followed her line of sight, and noticed for the first time there was a cymbal-holding monkey tucked into a corner. Odd place for a toy, so his suspicions were up immediately. Then Poe pulled out a small metal cylinder, screwing it onto the end of her gun. In a single shot, the head was gone, dropped to the floor, and she gestured for him to follow her. They crept slowly through the front room, though he didn’t miss the longing look she gave the dusty car in the corner, until they were faced with the wide double doors at the opposite end. Poe took a deep breath, but this time it was MacCready’s turn to stop her.

“Over there,” he pointed to a hall that seemed to lead to bathrooms, an not much else. “They never use the regular entrances, not when they have a choice. I’m betting they’ve rigged an entry through there.”

She nodded, then followed him into the first open door. As he’d suspected, the walls had been busted through, making a curving sort of hall that lead into an office nearby. Inside, he could hear two voices, though no one could be clearly seen. A few significant looks and some vague gestures between the two, and Poe was creeping forward, gun held carefully before her.

Ready.

Mac watched, holding his breath.

Aim.

Her hands were steady, no sign of nerves, and Mac was glad to see it.

Fire.

A single shot hissed through the air, then there was a thud.

“What the-“

A second shot, a second thud, and then silence. MacCready and Poe looked at each other, not quite daring to hope, but there were no more voices, no more noises. Finally, they sighed in relief.

“I’ll go out first, you cover me.”

Poe shook her head.

“YOU cover ME.”

“Look, I-“

MacCready pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You hired me to protect you. THIS is how I protect you. I know my own reflexes, I don’t know yours. I’m fine with letting you go first when it makes more sense, but if there’s a raider out there waiting-“

“Okay!”

Frankly, he’d expected more of an argument. Not that he wasn’t glad she’d agreed so easily, it was just that, usually, clients either let him take all the risk, or they refused to budge. This was . . . strangely easy. As he peeked around the doorjamb, he couldn’t help but feel slightly suspicious at that.

“Looks like a couple of guys circling the building. If we wait until they round the corner, we should have just enough time to get past them.”

She gave him an ‘after you’ gesture, and they eased their way down the hall and up the stairwell. At one point, they were certain they were about to be caught as a raider moved to descend. Then he was called back, and they moved on. At the top of the stairs, they snuck out to hide in the shadows of a few crates as they eyed the situation.

“More here,” he mouthed to her. “Two turrets. Open bridge.”

Tugging on his sleeve, she leaned in close, her voice barely even a whisper in his ear.

“There’s a protectron and terminal. If you cover me, I can hack in and turn it on. May take some out, would definitely distract them. If I can’t disarm the turrets from there, we’ll blow them again?”

“That terminal’s wide open. No way you get by without them noticing.”

“Then what do we do?”

He had to admit, he didn’t really have a better plan. The problem was, there was lots of clutter for raiders to lurk behind, just waiting to surprise them. On the plus side, that might keep them from spotting Poe as she worked. He could only hope she was fast. Once he nodded, she took off like a shot, skittering like a radroach from one shadow to the next. And when she reached the terminal, her fingers flew across the keyboard, until there was a metallic hiss, and a robotic voice began speaking. As quickly as she could, she returned to him, pulling him behind a crate.

“You’ll wanna stay out of his sights. The turrets have to be blown, I couldn’t get them.”

“Easy enough,” he smirked, then popped over the top of the crate. It was milliseconds, but the next thing Poe knew, both turrets had exploded, taking quite a few raiders with them.

By the time the time the protectron was done for, there were only three raiders left, none aware that there were intruders among them. That made sneaking easy . . . until they got to the bridge. The minute the mechanism creaked to life, all eyes were on them, and gunfire followed soon after. MacCready quickly took out one of the raiders below, while Poe shot one standing on the walkway. The final one, however, was well-armed, and far too good at hiding. He ducked into an office of some kind, showing himself only to blast at them, then disappearing before either could squeeze a shot off.

Before MacCready could say a word, Poe darted out and towards the last place they’d seen him.

The raider must have been watching them closely, because as soon as she was in the open, he fired. The first ricocheted off of the metal railing, the second lodged in the wall, just over her head. MacCready was torn between screaming at her for being reckless and just shooting the guy. In the end, he shot. Screaming could come after. The hulking figure stumbled backwards, and MacCready fired a second shot, just to be sure. Then he ran to Poe, now seated, leaning against the outside office wall.

As soon as he was by her side, he knew something was wrong.

“Uh . . . you’re bleeding pretty bad there.”

She pulled a hand away from her shoulder, covered in blood, and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Gee . . . d’you think?”

He rummaged quickly in his pockets, finally locating as stimpack and tossing it on the floor beside her. With a smirk on his lips, he stabbed it into her arm, harder than was strictly necessary, but not enough to be more than irritating.

“Smart-a . . . alec,” he muttered.

Once he was sure the bleeding was stopped, the two began searching through pockets and drawers, looking for any and everything that might be valuable. It was in the second office, though, that Poe found something really interesting. A terminal, filled with entries detailing the raiders’ exploits, and the leader’s search for a figure that sounded suspiciously like one of the settlers in Sanctuary. She copied the files onto her pip-boy, then wiped the terminal clean.

“Not a bad take,” MacCready said over her shoulder. “We’re splitting it all, right?”

Chapter Text

The settlers at Tenpines had been overjoyed to hear the raiders wouldn’t bother them anymore, and, when they got back to Sanctuary, Preston had been thrilled to hear they’d support the Minutemen. They were even going allow them use of the land, meaning that as soon as they had a better handle on things, it would be an official Minuteman settlement. Preston had been so overjoyed, in fact, that he’d immediately declared Poe the new General of the Minutemen.

“Wait- what? That wasn’t part of the deal! Why would you want ME to run things?”

Mac leaned against a nearby doorjamb, and by the look in his face, Poe guessed that it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen in a long while.

“I dunno,” he chimed, lighting a cigarette. “I mean, you got me following you. Just look at how well you’re doing already!”

She shot him a glare as Preston Garvey extolled her virtues, telling her, in great detail, why she was perfect for the job. Her tenacity. Her strength. The way she leapt into action, fearlessly, when others were in trouble. When MacCready got tired of the droning, he made his way over to the bunkhouse. Though it was too early to sleep, he sat on the bottom bunk, cleaning his rifle, while he waited. He was positive Poe would show up sooner or later.

It turned out to be sooner. Once she’d stepped into the room, she sagged against the wall, and MacCready put his rifle down with a throaty chuckle.

“So . . . am I looking at the new leader of the Commonwealth Minutemen?”

Another glare was leveled at him as she stood upright, then crossed the room to flop beside him on the bed.

“Fat lot of help YOU were.”

“Aww, c’mon! What’s you expect me to do- volunteer? Garvey wanted YOU.”

She put the pillow over her face and groaned before throwing it at him.

“Mac, I can’t do this,” she sighed, staring at the underside of the bunk. “I’m only twenty-one. I wasn’t even finished with my degree! Now some guy comes up, expecting me to lead a whole group of people . . . I’m not qualified to lead ANYONE.”

“Listen . . . if I can be mayor of Little Lamplight, you can do this.”

As she leveled a cool gaze at him, she raised one eyebrow.

“You were mayor? Like, actual mayor?”

“Yep,” he smirked. “When I was around ten. I swear on my life.”

“We’ll now I’ve heard everything,” she muttered, sitting up beside him. “Seriously. What am I supposed to do here? Running errands, shooting, building things . . . I’m good at THAT. Not leading an army, even if it is only an army of one at the moment.”

“Hey, don’t I count?”

He half pouted at her, trying to hide his smile. When she rolled her eyes and smirked, he knew he had her.

“I’m behind you here. Really.”

He put a gentle arm around her, pulling her into an casual half hug. It was strangely easy to be around her, to reassure her and open up about his own past. More like reconnecting with an old friend than meeting a new one. He might even start trusting her, if he wasn’t careful.

“Oh yeah.” Her voice drew him from his thoughts. “We’re heading out again in a few days. Some spot Garvey wants cleared for a settlement. Not a huge task . . . depending on what’s taken up residence there. But it’ll take a week or so, getting the place set up, just like here. Clear it out, make sure they have food, water, and protection. Set up a radio beacon. The nice thing is, once we get it cleared, we can take it as easy as we like. No one living there means no pressure for clean water, electricity, and all that jazz. And it’s Starlight Drive-In, which I remember from my old days. Plenty of shelter already, unless it’s all collapsed.”

“Nice. Nothing like getting paid to take a vacation. Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“Of course.”

Somewhat reluctantly, he let her go to lean against the wall behind them, and found himself joining her there. For several long moments, they sat in the relative quiet of the room, their only company the sporadic activity that buzzed outside. Everyone there was settling into a rhythm, and even to MacCready, it was beginning to feel a little like home. It was an odd sort of feeling, after life on the road. He’d gotten used to being alone, or at least, as used to it as you could get. To suddenly have someone he might be able to confide in and talk about something beyond the job at hand was thrilling, but terrifying at the same time.

He was so lost in his thoughts that at first he didn’t notice Poe’s fingers trailing over the back of his hand. There was nothing flirtatious about it, no coy brushing of fingertips to test the waters and see how he might react. Instead, it was absent-minded, casual. Just her fingers, running along his tendons, tracing the spaces between his fingers. He realized all at once that it had been years since anyone had touched him that way, so casually and comfortably. More than that, he realized that he’d missed it far more than he’d have guessed. It was . . . nice. So nice that he didn’t even mind when she slipped her palm beneath his to lift it to her face and examine it.

“Anybody ever tell you have great hands?”

“No. I mean, they’re just hands, right?”

A sort of dreamy half smile settled on her lips. With his hand resting across hers, she reached up and dragged a finger across his knuckles, then down his fingers. A strange chill ran down his spine to settle, low and hot, in his body.

“I like their shape, their size,” she smiled. “They’re big, but not TOO big, y’know? Perfectly proportioned, too. Long fingers, but thick enough they don’t look feminine. A little rough, but not clumsy. Nice, steady hands, big enough to be masculine, but still tender. And calloused and dirty enough to be sexy. Like really, REALLY sexy.”

Mac felt a hot blush flood his cheeks, creeping out into his ears and down his chest. He’d been called a lot of things, most of them rude, but among the few complimentary things he’d heard about his appearance, ‘sexy’ hadn’t been featured. Maybe he’d been called cute, or told he had nice eyes, but never had anything about him been called ‘sexy’. And no one had ever mentioned his hands at all.

When he finally got the nerve to look at Poe again, she was blushing just as hard as he was, chewing her bottom lip anxiously. She looked as if she wished the ground would open her up and swallow her, but was too frozen to even cover her face with her hands. As they stared blankly at each other, both waiting for the other to speak, his mind was reeling with thoughts, mostly moving too fast for him to catch. Of the ones he could, however, two stood out. The first was that, in that moment, she was genuinely one of the most adorable things he’d ever seen in his life. If he’d had a way to freeze the memory, keep it perfect and safe, and revisit it any moment he wanted, he’d have done it in a heartbeat. Her wide eyes, bright red cheeks, and twisting lips were perfect, which brought him to the second thought.

He really, really wanted to kiss her.

It hit him like a kick from a brahmin, right in the center of his chest, and made him feel like his guts had just been used as a deathclaw’s toys. It was bright lights and the smell of hubflowers, a perfect shot and drowning in blood at the same time. Chaos and heat clashed inside of him, and all at once, he felt like he could empty his stomach onto the floor, worse than he’d felt the time he’d tried Vadim’s “special brew” at the Dugout. He hadn’t had a feeling like that in more years than he dared think about, since before the Gunners, before coming to the Commonwealth. It was the last thing he needed in the world, and he wanted to hold onto it with both hands.

“Ah, shit. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“It’s okay. I mean . . . no one’s ever said anything like that to me before. Just look at me! I’m skinny and scrawny, and the only reason I’m as good at shooting as I am is because I never had anything else to do. Just practice and read comics.”

“You read comics?”

“Yeah.” He felt the blush returning to his cheeks. “Sometimes.”

“Mac, you’re such a nerd.”

She smiled at him, and they bumped their shoulders together in a playful nudge. But try as he might, he couldn’t get what she’d said off his mind. Throughout the evening, as they ate dinner, he kept trying to steal glances at her, only to find her already watching him, or turn to him shortly after. She’d smile, and he’d feel his cheeks go all hot again. He’d find himself watching her hands, thinking of how they’d felt on his, of the way she’d touched him, and suddenly he’d be flooded with a thousand memories, bitter and sweet at the same time.

It was strange. For a guy who’d been through all the shit he had, she made him feel conspicuously young and inexperienced. Like a part of him was back in Little Lamplight, still trying to figure out who he was and what he wanted beyond just surviving. He wasn’t old by any stretch of the imagination, but he’d always felt closer to the weathered souls with stories to tell than the fresh-faced teenagers. Then she swept in, and it’s like he’d gone backwards in time, started over in the youth he’d never really been allowed to have. Like, instead of becoming Mayor MacCready, taking care of everyone, then leaving on his own at sixteen, he’d had a life that allowed him to grow up slowly, and he was only just now breaking out. She threw him off in every conceivable way, and he didn’t know how he felt about it, or even how he wanted to.

The next few days were quiet, with Poe making adjustments to the systems around Sanctuary and teaching Sturges about them in preparation for the time she’d be spending away. It kept her plenty busy, and left MacCready alone, with far too much time on his hands. He hated not being busy even in the best of times, but with what had happened, he felt like he was going crazy. No matter what he did, or what he tried to think about, his mind kept spiraling back to those moments on the bunk, what she’d said, and that damned urge he’d had to kiss her. It didn’t exactly help that every night, he had to watch her change for bed, putting that smooth back of hers on display. By the time they left for the drive-in, he’d memorized the slope of her shoulders and the curve of her hips, and his nights were half spent wondering what it’d be like to touch her, half feeling guilty as hell.

The thing was, despite his age, despite his past, his smart mouth, and his hard-ass attitude, he had almost zero experience with romance. Sex? He’d been there, done that- with one person. And ending up in a relationship with that person had been sort of an accident. It had been an amazing, perfect, so good he could hardly believe it accident . . . but it had happened without any effort on his part whatsoever. Hormones had paved the way, along with a few drinks, and the sort of bravado that only came with youth. Now he knew better. He thought before he acted, he planned things . . . and he worried. Sure he flirted. It was easy to flirt with someone you didn’t really care about, that you weren’t actually interested in. Being rejected by somebody you’d never wanted to be with in the first place was no big deal. But someone you actually liked? That was another thing entirely.

Then there was the ghost of his lingering past, coloring everything he did, and everything he thought. Sometimes, it urged him forward, telling him it was time to move on, and that he deserved a chance to be happy again. He could practically hear that voice in his ear, familiar and warm, the one he missed so much sometimes it tore him up, whispering to him. Saying it was okay, that there was room in his heart for someone else, that he was too young to give up. Other times, he could see it all in front of him, just like it had been yesterday. The screaming, the blood, his heart pounding in his chest as he ran harder and faster than he ever had before. His lungs burning with the effort, and still not stopping, just going on as the tears flew from his eyes into the cold air. Those were the nights the guilt gnawed hardest at him. He didn’t deserve another chance, not after that. He couldn’t fail anyone else, couldn’t lose another person he cared for.

He was getting ahead of himself. Just because he’d had a damn impulse to kiss her didn’t mean she was suddenly more than his boss, and maybe his friend. And it didn’t mean that he had some kid’s crush on her, either. Just because he wanted to kiss her, and touch her . . . because she was pretty . . . and kind . . . and his heart wanted to pound out of his chest when he was around her . . . .

Oh god. He was so fucked.

Chapter Text

“Hey, so, uh . . . I’ve got something I wanted to ask you.”

They were laid out on top of the covered parking area at Starlight Drive-In, staring up at the stars. Mac’s hands were folded behind his head as he spoke, his body aching from the day spent shooting mole rats and then filling the holes they’d left everywhere.

“So . . . shoot.”

She started laughing immediately, slapping one hand to her forehead.

“Bad choice of words when I’m talking to a merc. I just meant go ahead and ask.”

The faint smile he’d worn at her laughter faded slightly as he turned to face her.

“So . . . what was it like? Before the bombs?”

“What was WHAT like? You’ll have to be a little more specific.”

He shrugged, turning his face back to the sky.

“I dunno. The world, I guess. Life. When you could just . . . live, without spending your whole day worrying about whether or not someone or something was going to kill you.”

It was something he’d thought about early on, when they’d stayed at Sanctuary the first time. He’d seen the row of neat houses, the lawn furniture, and the televisions, and couldn’t help but wonder what it must’ve been like. To live in a world where life was so secure you could spend time just sitting with your family, watching a box full of entertainment, and not have to worry whether someone was going to turn up and take everything you had. He’d been sort of afraid to ask, out of fear of bringing up bad memories, but with that giant screen in front of him, it was hard not to. He couldn’t imagine feeling safe like that, in a metal box, out in the open air, totally absorbed in some fiction on a screen.

“It was boring,” she shrugged, then turned to him. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, though. I mean, sure, there were times I just wanted SOMETHING to happen, because life felt so small and simple. Didn’t know how good I had it. Stressing out over what outfit I’d wear to a party seems silly nowadays.”

“Would you go back?”

She paused, pressing her lips together in thought, and Mac wondered for a minute if his mouth had done the stupid thing of running away without his brain again. Then her eyes met his, and he felt his stomach twist.

“No.”

She rolled on her side to face him, her head propped up on her elbow. He had an immediate urge to copy her, mirror her position so they were face to face, but resisted. Mostly out of the fear that he’d do something really stupid, like try to kiss her. With her gaze on him, he already felt his throat going dry, his hands itching to touch her, and he clasped them over his chest in the hopes it would help.

“I mean, I’ve always been sort of a practical person,” she continued, “so I don’t really wish for things I know I can’t have. But even if I knew I COULD, I don’t think I would. I’m useful here. Everything my dad taught me, my schooling, it’s helpful to everyone NOW, more than it would’ve been. Back then, I’d maybe help a corporation or two invent something useful THEY’D make money off of. Here, I’m helping people survive.”

He looked at her, really looked at her, and suddenly his insides were writhing. Without even bothering to ask him, words tumbled out of his mouth.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

He only got a glimpse at the blush on her cheeks before she’d turned and sat up, staring at the giant screen on the other end of the lot. He tried to subtly wipe the sweat from his palms as he sat up beside her.

“I don’t think I am. I’m just doing what has to be done.”

“Do you know how rare that is these days? To find someone with the skills and courage to step up like that? Most people are just . . . in it for themselves.”

“You do it.”

Scoffing, he muttered, “No I don’t. Honestly, I’m pretty damn selfish. I mean, I’m only out here with you ‘cause you hired me. I kill people for money, for chrissakes! You . . . you’re a good person. And I’m not.”

Swallowing hard, he stared ahead into the night. He’d never been proud of who he was as a person, but he’d accepted it. Life was cruel, and you did what you had to in order to survive. If that meant killing a few people, even innocent people, then so be it. He tried his best to avoid that, but if it was their life or his, he’d choose him, every time. Now, for the second time in his life, he felt ashamed. He was just a hired killer, with more blood on his hands than he could ever wash off.

The next thing he knew, her shoulder was against his, and her fingers were sliding between his own. As she wrapped his hand in hers, she rested her chin against his arm, her face so close he could feel the warmth of her breath against his neck. He wanted to turn, to look at her, but he was scared to death of what might happen. Almost as scared as he was of the feelings bubbling up inside of him.

“You ARE a good person, Mac. Even if you don’t know it yet.”

She kissed his cheek gently, then rested her head on his shoulder, his hand still firmly between hers. Through he didn’t move, and made no sound, he felt as if he were burning alive from the inside. A wildfire of emotions had been set loose within him, some good, and some bad, and there was no going back from it, he knew. Whatever he’d been trying to convince himself, he’d fallen hard, and he’d fallen fast.

It was a long time before either of them moved. Poe seemed comfortable, and Mac was enjoying the warmth of her closeness too much to risk losing it, even when his arm started going numb. It wasn’t until they’d both yawned several times and he felt her head slipping forward that he suggested they ought to head inside and get some rest. When she agreed, they returned to the projection room, and Mac stood for several seconds looking down at the single mattress they’d found, still topped with the skeleton of its last owner.

“Um . . . we don’t exactly have a lot of sleeping room here,” he muttered. “Guess I’ll just . . . curl up in the corner?”

Rolling her eyes, she gripped the pieces of skeleton and tossed them out of the window, letting them crash on the ground below. Then she lifted the mattress, shaking it a bit to get the dust off, and flipped it to the opposite side before spreading a blanket from her pack over it.

“Ta-da. Get on.”

“Well . . . where’ll you sleep, then?”

“Beside you, dumbass. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Alright, I guess,” he reluctantly agreed. “But I get in front. You lay against the wall.”

“Fine.”

She laid on the mattress, body stiff against the wall, and patted the spot beside her. Hesitantly, he moved to lay in front of her, clutching the edge of the mattress like his life depended on it. When she started laughing, he frowned to himself.

“Mac, I’m not gonna molest you in your sleep or anything. You can get closer.”

“Not exactly what I’m worried about,” he mumbled under his breath, but he did scoot back slightly. To his surprise, she curled her body behind his, looping her arm around his waist.

“Get used to it. I like being close, so if we’re gonna be traveling together, this is gonna happen.”

As she settled in behind him, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself a bit. She had a way of being so matter-of-fact about certain things that it just relaxed him, no matter how on edge he was. Like she just didn’t give him the option to be stressed about it. Besides, it was kinda nice having her close to him, even if it did make him feel like his insides were going to jump out. He sorta wished he had the guts to face her. Maybe even hold her close- in the name of staying warm, of course. Getting to stare at her and feel her in his arms was just a bonus. With a soft smile on his face, he drifted into sleep.

It was still dark when he woke, bleary-eyed and groggy. At some point, he’d rolled to his back, and Poe’s breath was now hot and ticklish in his ear. Still he didn’t want to move, partly because there was a warm, pleasant sensation spreading through him. With his eyes closed, he focused on it, the gentle way it pulled him towards consciousness. It started low in his hips, soft waves of bliss ebbing and flowing, over his stomach, down his legs. A quiet sigh escaped him.

“Hey.”

Poe’s voice in his ear, the word barely breathed, more like an echo in his mind than something said aloud.

“Hey yourself.”

His eyes fluttered open, and he turned towards her. Their faces were almost touching, noses pressed together, and she had the most beautiful smile on her lips. Again, he wanted to kiss her, and might have done so, if that sea of pleasure hadn’t sharpened suddenly, focusing itself between his legs. As he gasped aloud, her smile broadened.

“I take it you don’t mind this, then?”

In the dim light of the morning, his hand fumbled across his hips, searching.

And then, there it was. Her fingers, pressed between his legs, rubbing up and down the hard length of his cock.

He covered her hand with his own, guiding her to the spot he liked best, to a rhythm that was faster, with harder pressure. When his breathing sped up, she moaned softly in his ear.

“I like this.”

“Me too,” he whispered hoarsely. “Please don’t stop.”

Before long, he was grunting quietly with every stroke, straining so hard against the front of his pants he felt as if he might burst right through. With nimble, practiced hands, he unbuckled his belt, then tore down his fly. Immediately, her hand was inside, just as he’d hoped. It was warm and soft, and felt better wrapped around him than he could’ve ever imagined. He moaned her name . . . and suddenly her hand was gone.

“Wh-“

He opened his eyes to look at her, and found her on her knees between his legs.

“Oh, god . . . .”

He tipped his head back, moaning as she wrapped her lips around him. Those waves of pleasure became a flood, washing over him, swallowing him with every pass of her mouth. He felt himself swelling, full and aching, ready to burst.

“Oh god . . . Poe . . . that’s so damn good . . . .”

She took him into the back of her throat, a guttural sound vibrating along his length as she did, and then pulled back to swirl her tongue along his tip. It was incredible, slick and sweet, and she was the image of perfection. Every doubt he’d had melted into oblivion. He was . . . he was . . . .

Oh god, he was going to cum.

Her mouth worked faster, hums of pleasure surrounding him, pushing him closer to the edge. He might have sworn she was enjoying it as much as he was, if it weren’t for the tight heat building inside, and the growing volume of his moans. He was close, so close he could taste it. His hips rolled in the air, craving more, faster, harder.

“Poe . . . .”

His hands balled into fists at his side, then leapt to tangle in her hair. Whatever she was doing, it was the most amazing thing he’d ever felt in his life. No more gentle nudges, no. Now he was barreling towards release, tugging her hair, moaning loud into the morning air. It was good, so good . . . .

“ . . . fuck, Poe, I’m-“

His eyes opened, the moan that had startled him awake dying on his lips. He was on his back, alright . . . fully clothed, with Poe still asleep beside him. She had one arm draped across his chest, one leg thrown over his hips. When he tapped her arm gently, she hummed a questioning sound.

“Time to get up, sleepyhead.”

“Mmmm,” she grunted. “Don’t want to.”

“Too bad. We’ve still got work to do.”

She groaned again, pressing her face into his shoulder before looking up at him. For a minute, they just lay there. Then her eyes grew wide as realization dawned.

“Mac . . . is that what I think it is?”

“What?”

“Um . . . pressed against the inside of my thigh. Is it what I think it is?”

“Oh sh- I’m sorry.”

Mac felt his face grow red as giggles erupted beside him. The embarrassment was killing him, and if it didn’t, he was fairly sure the aching, unfulfilled need would. As the fact that everything that had happened had been only a dream sunk in completely, he wished the mattress below would swallow him.

“It’s, uh, a morning thing.”

Not exactly true, but he’d do anything to stop the laughter, and the hot feeling spreading over his cheeks. This was probably the most awkward thing to ever happen in his life, and she was still there beside him, not really trying to stop the giggling. In a desperate attempt to distract her, he said the first thing that popped into his head.

“We still have to get rid of the mole rat bodies.”

Well, that was a mood killer if anything was. Her giggles turned to a loud burst of laughter.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ll pile, you butcher? It’ll be a good immediate food source once we get settlers coming in.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Chapter Text

They’d only been back at Sanctuary from the Drive-In for a few days, and Preston was already badgering Poe about some other settlement he wanted her to go and help. Not only that, but he had this crazy idea about taking back a Minuteman stronghold from the old days, despite the fact that some kind of monsters had apparently taken over. Never mind that Poe was exhausted, that she had her own things to take care of, and that he could count the number of Minutemen on one hand, he insisted it was EXACTLY what they needed. And Poe just nodded, agreeing to whatever was asked of her. MacCready had watched her drag herself to bed night after night, ever since they’d returned, and he’d heard her tossing and turning. Sometimes he could even swear he heard her crying. Of course, he always wished he’d had the guts to get down and comfort her, but so far, he hadn’t quite got there.

The point was, he could see her fading. The bright, vibrant girl she’d been when they first met was being worn down, and it was eating away at him. Preston was asking her to run errands, Sturges was asking for her help around Sanctuary, that crazy old woman kept stopping her, asking for favors or laying out all kinds of doom and gloom prophecy, and Marcy never missed a chance to toss an insult her way. It was like they had no appreciation for the things she did, or even realized she was a real person, with her own feelings and problems. It was driving him nuts, the way they just acted like she was there for them and only them. Finally, he felt like he had to do something about it, or he’d burst with the fury he was carrying.

“Hey, Garvey! Talk to you a minute?”

He’d found him in the back of Sanctuary, alone, the perfect place for a quiet little talk. Though he looked surprised, he made his way over to MacCready.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“See, it’s about Poe.”

Garvey frowned as Mac stared at him, arms crossed over his chest. He intended to be . . . diplomatic, but the fact was, he was pissed off, and he’d never been great at hiding his emotions.

“The General okay?”

“No, ‘The General’ is NOT okay! Haven’t you even noticed? She’s worn out! She’s stumbling to bed every night, still not sleeping, and she hardly ever smiles anymore. She needs a break.”

“I haven’t noticed anything, and she’s certainly never mentioned it.”

“Of course not. She wants to help. Hell, maybe she NEEDS to. But she also needs rest. Not only that, but she needs the chance to find her brother.”

Preston’s brow furrowed.

“Her brother? What brother?”

“Oh my- you don’t even know THAT much? Do you ever even TALK to her?”

MacCready gritted his teeth, trying not to lose his cool completely. But for fuck’s sake, this man was practically demanding blood from Poe, and he hadn’t even bothered to ask what he might be able to do to help her. He wanted to slam him against the closest wall, threaten him, maybe fire a few rounds to scare him. Instead, he flexed his fists at his side, then spoke as calmly as he could manage.

“Listen, the General and I are going away for a little while. Say . . . a week . . . and I’m not even going to tell you where. Don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe. But when we get back, I expect you to take it just a little bit easier on her. Maybe you could even offer to help her out for a change. Got it?”

“Uh . . . sure, I guess.”

“Good.”

MacCready turned, walking towards the main house with long strides. He knew Poe was holed up in the room they shared, like she had been lately if she wasn’t working. As he’d expected, she was laid on her bunk, staring up. With a smug look on his face, he leaned against the doorjamb.

“Pack up. We’re getting out of here for a little while.”

She sat up, confused.

“What? But, I’ve got things to do. Sturges said he needed help with the water system, and Garvey-“

“I handled it. Now c’mon, pack.”

She frowned slightly, but did as he asked. It wasn’t until they were beside the Red Rocket that she bothered to ask him where they were going.

“I’m taking you to Diamond City. It’s time you get a little break. Besides, I know someone there who just might be able to help you find that little brother of yours.”

She stopped suddenly beside him, and when he turned to look at her, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Thank you, Mac. You’re incredible.”

After a few seconds of being frozen in surprise, a subtle half smile fell in place. He lifted his arms slowly, letting his fingertips brush over her thighs, and his palms skim her hips before slipping to the small of her back as he leaned into her embrace. Her hair was soft against his lips, smelling like sweet musk and gentle flowers, and all at once, he wished he could hold her like that forever. Then she pulled away, and he was left grinning like an idiot until her giggle pulled him back down to earth.

“Mac? Don’t take offense or anything, but do you EVER brush your teeth?”

“My breath that bad?” He muttered, face going pink.

“No, actually. But, um . . . they just . . . don’t . . . look . . . clean?”

Great. Here he was thrilled because he was hugging her, and she’s busy thinking about how bad his teeth are. The pink of his cheeks deepened to bright red.

“Hey, there’s not really an easy way to DO that when you’re on the road all of the time.”

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking down at his feet. Poe’s face switched from laughter to mild horror in the blink of an eye.

“Shit, Mac. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, you were. You were thinking how crappy my teeth are.”

“No, no. It was dumb and insensitive of me. I shouldn’t have-“

“You said what you meant,” he snapped, harsher than he intended, and her face fell. Instantly, he regretted it.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“You did.” She sighed heavily. “Look, just forget it. All of it. We’ll pretend the whole conversation never happened.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Okay.”

By the time they reached the gates of Diamond City, they’d gone back to their usual chatter. Mac lead her inside, and once they got into the market, he stopped to take a deep breath.

“Man, it’s been YEARS since I’ve been here. Hasn’t changed a bit.”

He grinned broadly as Poe stepped up beside him.

“So. Where’s this friend of yours that can help me find my brother?”

“Hold on, hold on. First, he’s not my friend, I just know him. Second . . . I brought you here to RELAX. Tonight, that’s what you’re going to do, and we can worry about the rest tomorrow.”

Raising her eyebrow, she gave him a dubious smirk.

“Alright wise-ass. Then what’s the plan?”

With a flourish, he put one arm around her, wildly gesturing with his other hand.

“First, we’re getting noodles. This guy’s are the BEST. Then, I’m taking you to The Dugout for drinks. After that . . . eh, we’ll see where things go.”

“Ooh,” she practically whistled. “Dinner, drinks, and a vague ‘we’ll see what happens’? What is this, a date?”

It was a joke, and he knew it was a joke, but that didn’t stop the blush from creeping into his cheeks. He hadn’t considered that it might seem EXACTLY like a date, especially to anyone who saw them. And, if he were honest with himself, he’d love it if it WERE a date. She must have seen the panic in his eyes, because she shrugged his arm off and faced him, speaking in a low voice.

“Mac. I know it’s not really a date, I was joking.”

“Uh, yeah . . ,” he mumbled. “Yeah, definitely not.”

He rushed her to the noodle stand before she could see the way he was blushing, and soon they were slurping noodles happily. Their usual chatter had faded to almost nothing, both too absorbed in eating to bother using their mouths for conversation. Mac’s eyes, however, were trained on her. He couldn’t help but stare. He wanted to take in everything about her, from the way her eyes sparkled in the market lights to the way her lips puckered around the noodles. Even the way she held her bowl seemed fascinating to him.

It didn’t get any easier at The Dugout. She smiled, slipping into an easy banter with Vadim that made his heart burn with jealousy, and spoke earnestly with Yefim about books from the past, ones he’d never even heard of. She got along with EVERYONE. Even Hawthorne, who usually kept a silent distance from newcomers wherever he went, sat down and told her stories of his time on the road. And Mac just watched, his hand in a fist around his beer, as she laughed and talked, her voice only slightly slurred. Yeah, sure, he’d intended for her to relax, but he’d hoped that HE would be the one on the receiving end of her smiles.

He was jealous, okay? So sue him.

“Hey, Vadim,” he called. “Gimme a bottle of your best.”

“You are certain, my friend? The last time, we had to get you a room, separate you from other customers for your own safety!”

Mac thought for a few minutes, then a quiet grin spread across his face.

“Yeah. In fact, just set me up with the room, and leave the bottle in there. I’m gonna go get my friend.”

He sidled over easily, leisurely, despite the humming of his heart in his chest. He was proud of himself for the idea, but didn’t know if she’d agree. She seemed to be having plenty of fun as she was, socializing for the first time in a long while with people who weren’t asking for her help. As he leaned over the back of the couch, he hesitated. Maybe it WOULD be better to leave her alone.

Then she looked at him.

“Hey Mac! What’s up?”

He leaned in to whisper hoarsely in her ear.

“Got a bottle of real good stuff, just for me and you.”

“Oh yeah?”

She raised an eyebrow, and he nodded.

“Strong stuff. Set up in a room back there.”

He jerked his head towards the rooms Yefim rented out, and watched with a surge of excitement as she chewed her bottom lip. Suddenly his head was swimming, and he felt like maybe he’d waded out too deeply in a current that was far too strong. There was something in her eyes, a little dark and dangerous. Maybe he was no good at swimming, but damned if he didn’t wanna keep going as she leaned into him.

“Liquor and a room, huh?” She dropped her voice lower, winking at him as she spoke. “Thought you said it wasn’t a date.”

He barely had time to register what she’d said before she was saying her goodbyes, explaining that they had things to do, and then looping her arm through his. Yefim gestured at them, and they followed him just down the hall, where he passed the key over to Mac and waved goodbye.

“Take care, friends.”

“Uh, yeah,” he spoke mindlessly as the door closed. “You too.”

He turned to see Poe seated on the edge of the bed, unfastening the laces of her boots.

“If we’re drinking in here alone, I’m getting comfortable. That bother you?”

He shook his head, shrugging off his coat and moving to sit on the opposite bed. Just as he’d pulled off his boots, he heard the soft sound of a zipper being pulled. When he looked up, Poe had unzipped the front of her coveralls, and was tugging the top off of her shoulders. With a glance at him, she shrugged.

“Love the practicality of these things, but they get SO fucking hot sometimes, y’know?”

As he looked on, she pushed them over her hips and down her legs, stepping out of them and laying them carefully on the foot of her bed. With them gone, she was left in nothing but a black tank top and a pair of thin cotton panties. Mac swallowed hard, trying not to stare at her legs as she curled beside him on the mattress. When she picked up the bottle, he snatched it from her without hesitation, pulling off the top and taking a long gulp. As he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, that warm, relaxed feeling began to wash over him.

“It’s not bad,” she murmured, after taking a sip. “I definitely had worse in college.”

She took a second, larger gulp, then passed the bottle to MacCready. He’d already had more beers than he could remember, so when he drank from it again, it was no real surprise that the room was beginning to wobble a little. As he giggled for no real reason, he looked back at Poe, a flush creeping into her cheeks from the alcohol. She giggled back, making him laugh, until they were both clutching their sides. Suddenly she smacked the side of his arm, taking the bottle once more.

“M’glad you invited me to do this, Mac.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Me too. It’s nice to get away. And you seemed like you could use it.”

She moved to her knees, nodding. Even as unsteady as he was, Mac could tell she was swaying, trying hard to stay still.

“Definitely,” she said, taking a deep breath as she propped her chin on his shoulder. “People keep asking me for stuff. To help, to fix, to make. It’s exhausting. I like to do it, but sometimes . . . .”

She blew out a hard breath, eyes widening for just a second, and Mac could smell the alcohol she’d been drinking. He could also smell that scent that was uniquely her, soapy and sweet, just a little salty from the sweat on her skin. For the first time, he realized how close she’d crept, hanging off of his shoulder with her legs all but wrapped around him. Their noses overlapped, and her mouth was so close to his that if he’d licked his lips his tongue would almost certainly brush against hers as well.

“Not you, though,” she whispered, and he could feel the movement of her words in the air. “You look after me, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

His voice shook, nerves and desire fighting for control. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to push her away, and he had the strength and courage to do neither. Her lips parted slightly, and he reached up to cup the side of her face. Instead, he stood suddenly, stripping to his undershirt.

“It’s hot in here, huh?”

She smiled from her spot on the bed, still on her knees, and stretched her hand out towards him.

“Mac . . . C’mere. Please?”

It was such a sweet, soft plea, he didn’t even consider disobeying. He just reached out, letting her take his hands and guide him back to the bed. This time, he angled himself to face her, letting her take his face in her hands. She smoothed her thumbs over his eyebrows gently, then under his eyes and along his nose. As one traced over the line of his lips, he let his eyes flutter closed, not even opening them when her hands moved to his shoulders. Suddenly there was warm weight in his lap, the softness of arms around his neck, and velvet lips against his own. His lips parted in a gasp, and her tongue flowed past, like water filling an empty cup. A low moan rumbled unbidden from his chest, echoed back into his mouth.

“Mac . . . .”

At the sound of his name, his palms moved to her hips, squeezing them appreciatively before sliding them to her ass. He squeezed there, too, as he pulled her closer against his chest. She leaned into him, and in a fraction of a moment, he was on his back, with her laid atop his chest. As his hips rolled against her, his hands explored, mapping her flesh, just as her mouth claimed his throat again and again. When he grew tired of passively receiving her affections, he grabbed hold of her wrists, switching their positions and pinning her to the bed. His kiss was hard, all teeth and tongues, impatient, hungry, and she returned it completely. He didn’t know if the dizziness he felt was the moment or the alcohol before it, but it didn’t matter, not then. His teeth scraped against her neck, over her collarbones as he cupped one of her breasts, then kissed his way down to the line of skin at the bottom of her shirt. Gently, he bit one hipbone, then the other, before trailing his mouth to the softness between her thighs.

He barely heard the moan that spilled from her as he pulled aside the thin cotton, too busy thinking ahead to notice the way she arched in anticipation. Everything he’d thought about, every dream he’d had was right in front of him. A little blurry, maybe, from too much alcohol, but it was real. As his tongue stretched out to lap at the border of her lips, he heard the sharp hiss of her gasp. Her hand found the back of his head, pressing him down as she breathed out a single word.

“More . . . .”

Again, his tongue darted out, tracing, searching for the spot he knew she wanted him. Yet even with her guiding touch, he managed to do no more than brush over her slit, hardly getting a taste of the sweetness he knew was there. The liquor they’d shared had served to bolster courage, but left them seemingly unable to follow through. Frustrated, he gripped hold of the soft fabric, intent on tearing his way through it. Instead, he fumbled roughly around, tugging, pulling, unable to reach. He wanted it, wanted her, but nothing he did seemed to work.

When her hands fell limply at her sides, and he heard a deep intake of breath, he was terrified he’d ruined things. Here he was, given an opportunity to taste what he wanted most, to prove to her that he deserved a chance, and he’d left her dry. Hastily, he raised himself to kiss her, to hold her in comfort and apology. But when his lips met hers, they were slack snd unresponsive. Her eyes were closed, and when he let her face go, it tipped to the side, and a quiet sigh left her.

If he’d been sober, he might’ve laughed. He’d been worried about leaving her frustrated, ruining a chance to get together with her, and possibly ending even their friendship. Meanwhile, she’d passed out. It was hard to see it as the blessing that it was. All he could think of was a lost opportunity, and the gnawing lust pent inside of him. With their close quarters, relieving himself wasn’t an option, and clearly nothing else was happening between them. All he could hope for was that the memory, along with his shame, would dull into nothing by the time morning came.

Chapter Text

MacCready woke in the raggedy bed in The Dugout, wearing just his undershirt and pants, with his body cupped behind Poe’s. His nose was buried in the back of her neck, and his arm was wrapped firmly around her waist. Although he was certain there was something he should’ve been concerned about or embarrassed by, his mind came up completely blank. Okay, so maybe Poe wasn’t wearing much, but he’d gotten used to that over the time they’d spent together, like he’d gotten used to her being constantly at his elbow, or the way she snored sometimes.

When he’d decided to rent a room to drink in, he’d expected . . . something. Anything, really. A drunken confession on his part, her deciding it was the perfect moment to tell him about some crush she had or the guy she’d left behind, or maybe an attempt to kiss her that made her storm out in anger. Deep inside, he’d hoped it would lead to crossing that border from friendship into something more, but he hadn’t counted on it. Still, to wake up and have everything seem completely normal was disappointing, in a way. It was a relief that she was still with him, of course, but he’d have risked going without her for a little while if it meant getting the weight of his feelings off his chest at last.

She snorted beside him, a sure sign she was beginning to wake up, so he sat himself on the edge of the bed to start dressing. By the time he felt her rolling over, he’d done everything but put on the tattered coat he wore like a security blanket. Behind him, she sighed, and he felt her hand on his back.

“What happened last night? I remember passing the bottle a few times after we got in here, then nothing.”

“Honestly? I’m not sure either. I don’t remember a thing.”

Sitting up beside him, she ran her hands over her thighs, then looked down.

“Well, whatever we did, I clearly didn’t need my pants.”

“Oh come on. You never sleep in them anyway.”

He grinned at her, and she returned his smile happily.

“Okay, true. But that’s just when we’re home! I generally wear SOMETHING when we’re out.”

He stood, grabbing the coveralls she’d been wearing and holding them up critically. Nothing strange or out of place about them, no mysterious stains, tears, or damp spots. His clothes had been fine, too. Whatever it was he couldn’t remember must have been pretty innocent.

“So get dressed,” he said, tossing them at her. “We’ve got places to be, right?”

As they walked through the door beneath the flashing neon sign, MacCready inhaled deeply, then let out a heavy sigh. He hadn’t seen Nick in ages, and the last time they’d parted it had been on terms that weren’t entirely friendly. An argument over whether someone was gonna be killed or taken back to their wife could do that. Especially when one party holds the other at gunpoint. Lucky for him, Nick had a way around just about everything, and he wasn’t so hard up for caps he wasn’t willing to settle. Nick brought him half the caps, just as he’d promised, but Mac had felt so bad about it all he ended up returning them to Ellie as an “anonymous donation”. Then he’d hauled ass and refused to set foot in Diamond City again, until now. If he hadn’t wanted so badly to help Poe, it probably would’ve been even longer.

“Well, would you look at what the cat dragged in?”

A wry smirk decorated the pale face of the detective seated behind the desk, now looking a little worse for wear. He’d looked pretty beaten up for as long as Mac had known him, but never quite as bad as this. The tear in his cheek was now a full blown hole, stretching down his neck and into his chest, and what had once looked worn smooth was now open wide. Still, he was there, and, hopefully, he’d be willing.

“Hey Nicky,” Mac grinned. “Oh, damn, I forgot to bring that oil for you.”

“Ha ha. Tell me MacCready, you ever gonna come up with any fresh jokes?”

The synth deadpanned his response, pushing back his chair and standing as he looked over Mac’s shoulder. A thin smile played across his lips, and, just for a second, MacCready could swear he almost looked . . . smug. Then he turned abruptly, rummaging through a file cabinet before pulling out a folder. Without a word, he edged past MacCready, passing the folder to Poe.

“There you go, doll. Everything that could be found on our man.”

“Thanks Nick.”

She sat in the nearest chair, rifling through the papers quietly as Nick returned to his desk. Mac, meanwhile, was glancing back and forth between the two of them, his mouth half hanging open. After a few minute of stunned silence, he addressed Poe.

“Wait . . . you already saw Nick?”

“Gee MacCready, how’d you figure that one out? Yeah, she knows me. Came to see me a while ago, asking for help finding her brother. Who the hell did you think sent her to you?”

Great. Now he owed Nick double. Maybe more than that, since she had a funny way of making him want to be a better man, something more than a hired killer.

Nick settled his arms on the desk in front of him, focusing his attention on Poe as she scanned the papers. By the way his lips twisted into a slight frown, he had something to say, and it wasn’t something good. Mac knew by now that, however daunting the task, Poe was going to take it on. She didn’t back down from a challenge, she pushed through and she persevered, no matter what the cost might be. In that fragile moment, the thought chilled him to the bone. If Nick was worried about something, it was bad.

“Poe?”

She glanced at him over the papers and nodded, and while Nick wasn’t pleased he didn’t have her full attention, he continued anyway.

“There’s something you should know. The guy we’re looking for, Kellogg? He’s . . . well, he’s more than just a hired killer. The man’s an animal. Brutal. He enjoys what he does, and he enjoys playing games. If he knows you’re on his tail, you can bet he’ll make sure you’re running in circles before you lay an eye on him. And there’s one more thing.”

Nick cleared his throat carefully, while Mac braced himself on the back of Poe’s chair. He knew Kellogg. Not personally, of course. No one knew him PERSONALLY, or at least, not for long. Anyone who laid eyes on him had a habit of disappearing suddenly, in very, very messy ways.

“There’s a . . . rumor. That he’s working for The Institute.”

The words fell hard in the silent air, and Mac’s heart fell with them. He didn’t think he’d ever been more afraid in his life, except for once, one painfully brutal time that he had no intention of repeating. Then Poe spoke.

“So how do we find him?”

It was like a nightmare. A part of MacCready desperately hoped he was still in bed at The Dugout, and he’d wake to find out none of it was real. But why in the hell would his subconscious mind pull up Kellogg, or The Institute? No, it had to be real. Even his own brain wouldn’t be THAT sadistic.

“Well, the good news is that we’re pretty sure he was right here in Diamond City, not too long ago. Might’ve had a kid with him, too. There might be a few clues left in the house he was in. The bad news, though, is that it’s locked tight. I’ve had everyone I know try the lock, I’ve asked for the keys . . . nothing. No one’s willing to take the risk of bringing Kellogg’s fury down on ‘em. So unless you’ve got some magical way of getting in, we’re back to square one.”

“Gimme some time. I’ll find a way in.”

Just like that, they were done in the city.

As they set out for home, Mac tried to let everything they’d learned sink in, to make himself comfortable with the possibilities. But before, when her brother was a distant concept and she just needed to FIND him, there wasn’t much of a threat lingering over the situation. He’d assumed it would be like any other job, any other fight he’d been in, and it would end with them both relatively unscathed. She’d have her brother, and the world would go on. Now her life was at stake, her brother’s, and his, too. After all, there was no way in hell he’d let her face Kellogg alone.

“Hey Mac? I got a question. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but I gotta admit, I’ve been curious.”

“Okay,” he answered cautiously, “so what’s the question?”

“Well, you’ve mentioned a few times that you really need caps. What is it that’s got you so desperate? You’re not in trouble, are you?”

With a sigh, he let his shoulders droop slightly. He’d been dreading this conversation since he’d realized he was starting to like her, even as a friend. At first, he’d intended to ask for her help with the situation, but now, well, it seemed selfish and shameful. She spent so much time helping others, he didn’t want to be just another case on her list.

“So . . . you remember those assh- those two guys I was talking to at The Third Rail? Winlock and Barnes? They’ve been hounding me forever, since I left the Gunners. Always trying to drive off clients. No one wants to touch me once they find out I used to run with them. I figured that maybe, if I could get enough caps together, I could buy them out. Only, there’s no guarantee it would actually WORK. Knowing them, they’d just take the money, then kill me anyway.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

He’d known it was coming, but it still sent hot guilt roiling through his stomach. He’d been hired to look out for HER. Now here she was, offering to help him with a problem of his own making.

“I don’t know . . . .” He hesitated for a moment. “Maybe. But I don’t want to burden you. I mean, Winlock and Barnes keep a small army of Gunners with them all the time. Anything we try is sure to be risky.”

She stopped walking, turning to face him, and put her hands on his shoulders. As his eyes met hers, that familiar shame deep inside of him began spreading slowly through his body. It took all his effort to force himself to keep looking at her, not turn away and run. Especially when she gave him that soft, sweet smile of hers.

“Mac, if you need my help, I’m there. Whatever the risk.”

She slid her arms around his neck, pulling his body against hers, and he let himself be drawn into the hug without resistance. In that moment, with his arms around her waist, he felt like both the luckiest and most cowardly person on the planet. He was letting her, already overburdened her, help him, when it ought to be the other way around. And yet, she was there, in his arms, letting him bury his face in her hair. He hadn’t asked her for help, she had offered. Because she cared about what happened to him.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, still reveling in the silk of her hair against his lips. “No one’s ever really cared about what happens to me like this.”

“Well get used to it,” she returned, “because I’m gonna KEEP caring about what happens to you. Now, instead of going home, why don’t you tell me where these guys are? Then we can take ‘em down, and you can be a free man.”

Chapter Text

This was a bad idea. He knew it was a bad idea, no matter how good of a shot they both were, and no matter how much of a surprise it was going to be for Winlock and Barnes. Two people against a couple dozen? Not to mention the turrets they had spread all over, the power armor . . . oh, and the assaultron. If they both got out of this alive, they’d be lucky.

“Not many on the ground. Three, maybe five, depending on how many they’ve got guarding between the elevators. We’ll have to use one to get up there. Better we take out the ones down here quietly, do the ones up top don’t have a chance to get ready. That’s where all the muscle is.”

As she twisted her lips in thought, MacCready tried to quiet the pounding in his chest. His pulse was so loud he could barely hear anything over it, and his palms were sweating way more than they should be. If he wanted this to work, he had to calm down and focus. There could be no mistakes, no slipping up. If they weren’t both on top of things, it would go wrong, and fast. Quickly, he wiped his palms on his pants.

“Take this,” she said, handing him one of her silenced weapons. “I’ll sneak to the far end, you start here. Then we’ll work or way inward and meet in the middle. Then we’ll try to get a good look and decide which end to start from.”

“I already know most of the guys are at this end. If we go from the other, it’ll be less muscle at first, but they’ll just see us coming.” He sighed. “I wish we could reach the terminal and take the turrets offline, but that’s going to be well guarded. So look out, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt on my account.”

“Aww, so sweet,” she whispered, half laughing. “I’ll meet you at this elevator, then. Good luck!”

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, making his insides flutter, before heading off into the distance. For several long moments he sat perfectly still, giving her time to clear out before things got started. Then he moved, and everything became a blur.

The first few were easy. He had to get closer than he would’ve liked, but they went down fast, dragged into the shadows and out of sight. His heart quieted, his breathing steadied, and he slipped into the headspace he usually went to when in combat, still and focused, undistracted. He started to let himself believe this whole thing might actually work. There was only one more left on the ground, and he had him in his sights. Just one shot, and they’d head to the upper level.

Then a shot rang out in the darkness, and his heart froze.

It wasn’t his. It wasn’t Poe’s, because he knew she wouldn’t remove her silencer. And it wasn’t the one he’d been aiming at.

The pounding began again, this time doubled, making his head hurt so bad he could barely focus. Taking the guard on the tower down before he could call out wasn’t hard, but it didn’t ease his fears, and it didn’t stop the Gunners on the upper level from shouting a rough warning, drawing to the edge to check things out. If he ran, he’d be spotted, but he didn’t know if he could survive the wait to see if Poe was okay. Moving as quickly and silently as he could, he crept through the shadows, hoping he wasn’t too late. If she was in trouble, if she was hurt he’d never forgive himself. He should’ve left her out of it, refused her help, and faced the consequences of his own stupid decision.

He got there just in time to see her pull the feet out from under a Gunner, then plunge a knife into his chest. Blood was everywhere, across the Gunner, the ground, and Poe. She lay there collapsed and weak, on her back, as she pulled a stmpack from her pack and jammed it into her leg. MacCready edged his way over, staring down at her blood-soaked figure, and did his best to determine whether or not she was too injured to keep going.

“Don’t worry,” she panted. “Most of it isn’t mine. I dropped my damn silencer in the grass, had to stick with knives. Then this bastard saw me, shot me. Put a damn hole in my shirt.”

She reached down, pulling it up in order to look at the bright pink scar along her ribs. The stimpack had done its work, and what had likely once been a deep gash where the bullet had grazed her had knit itself closed, but MacCready still wanted to kick himself right in the balls for bringing her. He didn’t have much time to consider it, though, because gunshots began ringing through the air. Without a second thought, he threw himself atop Poe, grabbing her and rolling them both into the shelter of the underpass. Once there, he frowned, moving to a crouched position and readying his gun.

“So much for surprising them,” he growled.

The two ran to the elevator, sliding in and pressing the button frantically. As they were lifted in the air, Poe shot the closest figures, while MacCready aimed upward at the ones on the overpass. Then, as they neared the top, the two switched positions. If MacCready had been able to think about it, he’d have been impressed as how seamlessly they worked together, each making up for the other’s weaknesses. Unfortunately, they neared the top before it could occur to him, and they were faced with the bright, hot laser of an assaultron.

Mac screamed at Poe to duck just in time, the laser blasting the back of the elevator where her body had been just moments before. As they dove in different directions, he made it his mission to focus on the robot, to take it out before it could actually hurt her. Gunners shouted in the distance, turrets screamed, and one explosion after another filled the air. He lost track of Poe, only barely noticing her when the assaultron burst into flames unexpectedly, tossing him on his ass. Then she was gone again, and he was rolling aside to shoot more Gunners. It seemed like there was a never ending supply, a constant flood of gunfire even after the turrets had been taken out. He went through every stimpack he had before it was over, and still hadn’t found Poe again.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, the gunfire ended. Silence fell heavily across the space, and Mac was only aware of his own breathing for a long time. When he recovered, he headed in the direction he’d last seen Poe. He found her leaned against the wall of a building, winded, but seemingly unhurt.

“Barnes is dead,” she panted, but I haven’t seen Winlock.”

“The assh- the guy’s probably hiding out somewhere. Bet he heard us coming and took off, the coward.”

Suddenly the sound of heavy metallic footsteps came from behind him, and Mac’s blood ran cold.

“Wrong, asshole.”

The next thing Mac knew, he was flying through the air, the roar of wind in his ears. He was aware of a cracking sound and sharp, stabbing pain as he hit the concrete barrier, and in the distance, he saw Winlock in full power armor, reaching toward Poe. Though he tried to move, to shout, do anything, his body just wouldn’t cooperate. A strange cold feeling began creeping into his limbs, and they felt heavy, so heavy.

Then, for Mac, the world went dark.

When he came to, he only knew that he hurt everywhere, and that he definitely wasn’t leaned against the concrete like he remembered. Instead, he was laid down, on top of something . . . well, not exactly soft, but more comfortable than he’d expected. A warm body lay against him, skin touching skin, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in so long it felt entirely foreign to him, and a blanket covered their bodies. At some point, he’d been stripped to his boxers, and he guessed that the figure beside him, who he assumed was Poe, was down to her underwear as well.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and he looked around. It was a small makeshift shack they were in, filthy, but serviceable. It was indeed Poe beside him, her body half atop his and sleeping hard. Through a small crack in the wall, he could see outside. Judging by the asphalt and concrete he could see, they were still at the overpass, and for a moment he panicked. Then he saw the body of Winlock, still in power armor, but missing his head. He couldn’t help but giggle a bit to himself.

“Sorry doc, I don’t think this one’s gonna make it.”

He thought he’d spoken quietly, but apparently it was louder than he’d thought, or Poe hadn’t been sleeping as heavily as he’d guessed. Beside him, she stretched her leg out straight, then wrapped her arm around his chest. For a few moments, she was still, until he reached up slowly, stroking her arm with his fingertips. Suddenly her eyes flew open, and she threw her body atop his, leaning into his chest. Sure, it hurt, but he was so glad to have her close he wasn’t going to mention that.

“Oh my god, Mac. You had me so scared! I thought you were dead, then I thought you were gonna die on me, no matter how many stimpacks I used. You were out, limp, and your body was so cold . . . .”

He wrapped his arms around her, cupping the back of her head tenderly. He hated that he’d made her worry, but he had to admit, seeing her so worked up over him was kind of nice. To know that she cared about him enough to get upset like she was gave him a tiny sliver of hope.

“C’mon. You really think I’m gonna leave you before we find your brother? Who’d watch your back, keep Garvey from getting his claws in you?”

She propped herself up to smile down at him, and he let his hands slide down to rest at the small of her back. God, she really looked beautiful like that. Her hair hanging down, framing her face and enclosing him in its shelter, her lips and the way they curved, soft and pink, making him want to devour them with kisses. And, he couldn’t help but notice, her breasts, pushed together, resting against his bare chest with only a thin layer of fabric between them. His hands drifted unconsciously to her waist, fingers running lightly against her spine, up to the clasp between her shoulder blades. Tracing over it, he thought about how easy it would be to unhook it, and wondered what might happen if he did. Just a fantasy, he had no intention of doing so, of course. She leaned down again, nuzzling into the hollow of his throat. Despite the stimpacks, his ribs were sore and aching, but he’d be damned if he’d let this moment slip away. The way she’d looked at him, the way she was cuddling against him, he felt like he might actually stand a chance with her. And if he didn’t, then at least he’d have this.

“Promise me you’ll never scare me like that again, Mac.”

“Okay,” he whispered, stroking her back. “I promise.”

He’d have promised her anything. If she’d asked for the moon, he’d have given her his promise to bring it to her.

“I, uh,” she swallowed, taking a deep breath. “I guess we’d better get up and head home now, huh? Think you’re alright to walk?”

He didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to move at all, and he definitely didn’t want to let her go. But there wasn’t any denying that their little side trip had probably added a few days to their journey, and now they’d probably be running late. Especially with him injured. If they stayed any longer, Garvey might well have the whole damn Commonwealth out looking for them. Besides, there was no reason to push a good thing.

“Yeah. Guess so.”

She still didn’t move, just nestled herself farther into his embrace. He hoped it was because she wasn’t any more eager to leave than he was. When she finally stood, she dressed herself in silence, then helped him get dressed. While he didn’t feel like his injuries were serious, it definitely hurt for him to bend and twist. There were dark bruises on his sides, and a smattering of cuts and scrapes all along his body.

“We’re staying in Sanctuary for a while,” she finally declared, once they’d gotten on the road. “Whatever Preston thinks, you need time to rest up.”

“I’ll be fine. Just a day or two.”

“MacCready, I swear to god, if you don’t rest, I’ll tie you to the damn bed!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. “No need to be dramatic.”

“With you? There’s ALWAYS drama.”

Chapter Text

MacCready rested once they got back to Sanctuary, just as he’d promised. It was boring, almost painfully so, but he quickly found out that it was worth it. As long as he spent the day relaxing, when Poe was done in the evenings she’d return to their room early, food in hand, and they’d sit and talk. He learned more about her and her life growing up with Nate, and in return he explained about life in Little Lamplight and how he’d grown up there. Sometimes, as the sun sat in the evenings, they’d walk outside and watch the sky change colors, but his eyes were almost always on her instead.

Getting her off of his mind had become an impossibility, especially since the morning at the overpass. Any time he closed his eyes, he could see her long, dark hair, her shining eyes, and those perfect white teeth of hers, biting into her perfect pink lip. At night, he laid awake remembering the weight of her body on his, and the warm softness of her skin. When he did sleep, dreams tortured him with sweet kisses and tender caresses, giving him fuel for the fantasies he tried not to indulge in. The worst nights were the ones where she helped him clean up, sponge bathing him around his boxers and rubbing salves into his bruises, massaging the tension from his muscles. Those were the nights his dreams betrayed him utterly, filled with heat and passion. He woke mourning the loss of something that had never really existed, yearning for the taste of her skin.

While he was banned from traveling, he noticed she used the time to work on Sanctuary. With the main house finished and all basics provided for, work was beginning on other homes. The intention was to give families who settled there a space of their own, with room to grow if they chose. She’d also begun work on a bath house. As it was, the only option for getting clean was to warm a small bucket and wipe off the best you could, or to head to the isolated section of the creek behind Sanctuary and hope you finished up before anyone came along. Mac didn’t care too much how he got clean, though he’d started making more of an effort since their time in Diamond City. He’d even tried to clean his teeth, and had a little success. Poe, however, hated the limited options. More than once, she’d wished for a hot shower, or even a good soak in a tub, and Mac had to admit, it sounded pretty good. The luxury of clean water, hot snd steaming, and not having to worry about how long you took, seemed positively decadent. He couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to go from that as a daily option to the rough scrubs afforded in most settlements, much less what they had to deal with on the road. Poe insisted on cleaning herself as thoroughly as possible as often as possible, and when they were in Sanctuary, she went to the creek at least once a week, more if she got really dirty.

That’s how he managed to come upon her one evening, just around sunset.

She’d been working all day on the bath house, trying to see where and how to fit in some sort of plumbing system, one that would allow them to run multiple showers at once without losing pressure. It had taken a lot of crawling around, digging up old systems to see how they worked, and she still didn’t have any real ideas. What she did have, though, was a lot of frustration, and coveralls that were stained with dirt an soaked with sweat.

Mac didn’t know any of that. He’d spent the morning going over security with Garvey, then the afternoon maintaining his rifle. He hoped Poe would agree to heading out again soon, to find a way to get into Kellogg’s house. Hell, as bored as he was, he’d even take running errands for settlements. He didn’t like a stationary life, not when he had so much on his mind. If he kept busy, he could avoid facing the hard truths.

When he overheard Sturges telling Preston about how frustrated Poe was after the lack of progress, he figured that maybe he could surprise her, help her end the day on a good note.

“Hey, Sturges? Where’d Poe go?”

“Last time I saw her, she was heading to the back of Sanctuary, cursing up a storm. You wanna talk to her, I’d be careful. She’s likely to bite your head off, you say the wrong thing.”

MacCready smiled. “Thanks for the warning.”

Then he headed out, following the winding asphalt down to the dead end. When he glanced around, he saw no sign of her, though. He was just about to look elsewhere when he heard a muffled curse from the edge of the creek.

Under normal circumstances, he’d have called her name, not only to let her know he was coming but so that he could pinpoint her location better. But this time, some impulse stilled his tongue. He crept forward slowly, silently, and hidden in the shadow of the hedges, until he saw her standing there, at the edge of the creek. Suddenly, he stopped. His mouth went dry, and he started chanting thanks in his head to any higher power that might be out there, even if he wasn’t sure he believed in that kind of thing. Only some kind of divine intervention could’ve allowed him to happen upon the scene in front of him, because he damn sure didn’t deserve it.

She stood there knee deep in the water without her coveralls, which had been scrubbed clean and draped over the stone wall nearby. All she wore was her tank top, bra, and a pair of thin, white, cotton underpants. Her hair had been dipped in the water and was now drenched, wetting her top and slowly soaking through the white fabric. As he looked on, it became more and more transparent.

He swallowed hard. His heart was pounding, so hard he’d almost swear she could hear it over the distance, and blood rushed through his veins. He’d seen her naked back before, almost every night, but somehow, this felt different. And not just because he was spying on her, though he knew he was. There was something about the way the fabric clung to her skin, embracing her curves, that was strikingly arousing. Heat poured to his groin in a tremendous, dizzying rush, and without even noticing, he pressed a hand down his length.

He should leave. He knew he should leave. But like those close to so many things that shouldn’t be watched, he found his eyes locked, his feet glued in place. He was going to watch until the scene ended, or he was caught, and he hoped he didn’t get caught.

She waded forward a bit more, the water now lapping her thighs, and he watched as she peeled the tank from her body. Now she wore the barest of clothing, her bra and underwear, and Mac found himself eagerly waiting to see what was next.

“General!”

Garvey’s voice rang out through the clearing, startling both MacCready and Poe. While she faced forward, crossing her arms over her chest, he ducked down slightly behind the hedge, edging to the side. Between Preston and Poe, Mac knew there was only a small window of invisibility, and he just hoped he’d judged properly.

“I’m bathing, Garvey! Can it wait?”

Mac watched Preston stop abruptly, turning his eyes toward the sky.

“Of course, ma’am. Just wanted to go over some plans with you. When you’re ready, just come see me at the bunkhouse.”

With that, he turned and left, and Poe and MacCready let out a breath of relief simultaneously. By the time he’d gotten himself back into place, she’d washed her tank and was at the stone wall again, spreading it to dry. Though he felt sure he was out of her sight, she was close enough he could see her far better, and he took every advantage of the opportunity. His eyes roamed her glistening skin, taking in the way her hair stuck to her forehead, her neck. Tendrils of it caressed her face, pointing downward, to her chest, where her bra clung against the curves of her breasts. She might’ve been naked, for all the coverage it gave her. Beneath the wet fabric he could clearly see the dark outline of her nipples, full and ripe, looking like perfect, sweet mutfruit. Only mutfruit had never made his skin prickle in hot anticipation, and sent a sharp ache through him.

She returned to the water, and he thought for a moment it was over, she was done, ready to wrap herself in a towel and return to their room. Then, just as he was getting ready to leave, he glanced at her again. Her back arched as she reached behind her, and she turned slightly. If he didn’t know he was out of view, he’d have sworn she looked straight at him. Then she plucked at the clasp of her bra, it snapped open, and Mac had to bite his lip so hard he tasted blood, just to keep from groaning out loud. It certainly didn’t help matters when she lowered her underwear as well, leaving her stark naked in front of him.

He let out a low curse, chastised himself for it, and then watched helplessly as she bent to wash the items she’d just removed. A sliver of pink flesh came into view, surrounded by dark curls, and the moan he’d held back earlier fought its way from between his lips. She was gorgeous, stunning, perfect, and he wanted her with a dark, ferocious ache, one that surprised even him. As she walked to lay out the last of her clothes, he was held in thrall, mesmerized by the rippling flesh of her thighs and the soft undulations of her stomach. When she leaned to squeeze the excess water from her hair, his eyes traveled the weight of her breasts and the taut buds of her nipples, while his palms itched to cover them and caress them, his mouth begged to be allowed to kiss them.

After she’d wrapped herself in a towel and disappeared towards the bunk house, MacCready sat where he was for a long time. Everything he’d seen had increased the longing in his heart, and stoked the fire inside of him. Oh, he’d lusted after her, definitely. More often than not, his nights were filled with dreams of stolen kisses and soft caresses, of gentle sighs in his ear. But then it had been nebulous, a vague guess at what lay beneath her clothes. Now, he KNEW. And it was much more than he’d ever dreamed.

If he’d been asked before if he had a type, he’d have shrugged and probably muttered something along the lines of “breathing”. Truth was, he wasn’t all that interested in having sex with someone he didn’t care about. He liked to look, sure. Who couldn’t appreciate looking at something attractive? But in the wastelands, you couldn’t afford to be picky. He’d crushed on all types as a kid, and he’d pored over the different figures offered to him in the dirty magazines the older boys passed around Little Lamplight. But when it came to hands-on experience, he’d picked the nicest girl who’d shown an interest in him, and most of his attraction had been based on her kindness and her strength. She was beautiful, and certainly beautiful to him, but he’d never been able to pick out exactly what it was that made her so.

Poe, though? He knew, and the simple answer was ‘everything’. She was kind and strong, too, and he loved her practical nature and how willing she was to risk her neck for others, even if it made his job harder. But he’d never seen anyone who looked like her before, not in person. Her body was full, without the sharpness of ribs, hipbones, or elbows. No sunken cheeks or sunken belly, no sagging, no rough, weathered surfaces. Her skin looked new, like a baby’s skin, not like any adult walking in the wastes. Plump, that was the word for her, everywhere. Not like something overfilled, stretched and ready to burst, though. She was plump like something soft, tender. Something you wanted to be close to. And she had the most beautiful lightening-bolt shaped stretch marks, pale stripes on the skin of her stomach and thighs that made him feel weak in the knees. He wanted to kiss every one of them, trace them with his mouth and fingers, worship their gorgeousness. Once, she’d told him they were ugly, or at least they’d generally been considered something to hide, and he could hardly believe it. Why would anyone hide decorations like that?

He finally wandered back to the bunk house well after dark, his mind in knots. He knew he’d been wrong to spy on her, but he couldn’t make himself regret what he’d seen. His biggest concern was that he’d find it either too difficult to look her in the eye, or that he’d end up giving himself away by staring.

Things were getting serious, and he was in deep. One way or another, something was going to have to break.

Chapter Text

“So, have you figured out yet how you’re gonna get into Kellogg’s place?” MacCready asked, taking a minute to wipe the sweat off of his forehead. He and Poe were busy in a house just down from the main one, rebuilding walls. The roof had been finished some time ago, but word about Sanctuary was spreading quickly, and the bunks were getting crowded. Already, some people were sleeping in shifts or on the floor, so everyone who could was working on refurbishment.

“No, not yet,” she frowned. “I keep hoping something will come to mind, but nothing does. Plus I’ve read every book and magazine on lock picking I can find, and I must’ve broken a thousand bobby pins practicing. Nothing’s working.”

“Well, it can’t stay closed forever. Sooner or later something will come up.”

She moved to hold up a section of wall while he hammered, her body so close he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. It was unseasonably warm to start with, and with all the work they were doing both of them were wearing as little as they could. MacCready had left aside his trench and the button down he usually wore beneath it, choosing instead to just wear his pants and a white t-shirt that was rapidly becoming soaked. So soaked, in fact, that he was seriously considering shucking it off, too.

Poe, on the other hand, had chosen a pair of worn canvas overalls and some sort of bra-tank combination that stopped just below her breasts. Her midriff lay exposed beneath the bib, with sweat rolling down her ribs in silvery streaks. Every time he caught sight of it, it took him back to that evening by the creek and how gorgeous she’d looked with her bare ass hanging out. He’d have kissed the water from every inch of her skin that day, and he was nearly as eager to lap up the droplets of sweat. More, in some ways, because she’d been running through his head constantly since then. Even in his dreams she was there, naked, urging him to touch her, to kiss her, and to taste her skin. He woke morning after morning, his boxers tented and his cock aching, and he still hadn’t found the privacy to rid himself of his burning need. And he knew that, after today, it would be worse than ever. He could barely look at her without some filthy fantasy running through his head.

His favorite of the day was spurred on by her barely dressed state, coupled with the one time that morning when she’d been standing in front of a bit of paneling, letting it rest against the frame she was about to pin it to. She’d just bent to pull a few nails out of her pocket when a strong gust of wind had blown through, and it started to tip. Mac had luckily been there to catch it, pinning her chest first to the wall in the process, his own chest against her back, and his arms on either side of her. From there, his imagination had gone wild.

For a minute, neither of them would move. Then, he’d lean into her neck, close enough she could feel the tickle of his breath, but not quite touching her. He’d hear the trembling of her breath, feel the way her body tensed beneath his. Ever so slowly, she’d arch her back. Her ass would press against his crotch, and her breath would catch as she felt him, hard and eager, wanting her. A whisper of his name, barely breathed. His hand would snake beneath her overalls, sliding over the bare skin of her abdomen and raising chills before he cupped her breast. As his fingers teased her nipple, his mouth would find her neck, kissing, biting, sucking marks along her throat to show everyone she was his. Her hands would tangle in his hair, little moans leaving her mouth as her nipple hardened beneath his fingers. Once he held a heavy breast in each hand, his mark left on her delicate skin, and she was panting with desire, he’d let one hand wander down. It would move slowly, teasing her, fingers running soft trails over the most sensitive parts of her hips and thighs, barely brushing over her center. He wanted her weak, desperate, hungry, just like he’d been. His cock would rub against her through the layers of clothing, just as they kissed, and they would moan into each other’s mouths. Then, finally, he’d let his hand slip into the tight space at the front of her underwear. Tracing her slit, he’d find her swollen, wet, practically throbbing as her hips thrust forward, and she began grinding herself against him, fucking herself on his hand.

“Mac? You okay? You’ve been standing there staring at the wall for the past ten minutes.”

He shook his head. Of course he’d gotten drawn in again.

“Yeah. Yeah . . . I’m fine. It’s just so godda- it’s so hot. Feel like I’m melting over here.”

“God, I know. I swear it never got this hot pre-war. And when it got hot at all, there were sprinklers, pools, the beach . . . all with nice cool water. Used to lay out in the backyard tanning, then when I was all sweaty, I’d get up snd spray myself with the hose.”

“Sounds great.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I really miss tanning. Not so much the tan part, but being able to just lay around, doing nothing, not paying attention to anything except what was going on in my head. Well, and the boys who used to spy on me, but that’s another story.”

She winked at him, then hammered in the last few nails. Mac couldn’t help it, the curiosity was eating at him.

“So what’s the story then?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s the story with the boys spying on you?”

She smirked, a light blush dusting her cheeks. For a second, she covered her face with her hands. When she dropped them, she was rolling her eyes already.

“You’re gonna think I’m an AWFUL person. The WORST, Mac.”

“Nah, come on. How bad can it be?”

She tilted her head to the side slightly, looking up at him from the corner of her eye. As she bit her lip nervously, Mac suddenly felt like the floor had dropped out from under him, and he’d asked a question he probably didn’t want the answer to. But curiosity is a hell of a drug, and he needed to know.

“Okay.”

She blew out a huff of breath, then ran her hand through her hair.

“So back before, when I was maybe . . . thirteen or fourteen? There were these guys living next door to us, brothers, who were around my age. They teased me something awful. I was kinda an ugly duckling, big teeth, arms and legs I hadn’t grown into yet, really scrawny, and tall for my age. They made my life absolutely miserable. But I kept my head up, ‘cause Nate had always taught me to be proud of myself, y’know?”

Sighing, she shook her head, then smiled.

“Well, around the time I was fifteen, their parents got divorced, and they went to live with their mom for the school year. The next summer they came to stay with their dad, next door. By that time, puberty had hit hard. So there I was, sixteen or so, filled out, all curves and swells, and it’s summer. I’m hoping to get a great tan, so I’m spending all my time in the backyard, oiled up, laid out in a skimpy bikini, and both of our dads are at work all day. Being hormone-crazed teen boys, they think it’ll be a great idea to watch me, taking turns and using binoculars from their bedroom window, which looked over into our yard. And the more they watch me, the more flustered they get every time they see me, right?”

Mac had a feeling he knew where this was going, and it was touching a little too close to home. But since he’d asked, he couldn’t really walk away. With a wide grin, she went on.

“I decided that I really liked the control I had over them. These boys who used to make fun of me were practically eating out of my hand. So I decided to see just how far it can go. One day I’m laying out, I pull my bottoms up, show off half my ass. They’re tripping over their tongues. Next time, I make ‘em into a thong, and they can’t look me in the eye. One of ‘em tries to ask me out, but ends up shoving his hands in his pockets and running, probably to cover the awkward boner he was sporting. Finally, I decide I’m going all out. The next time I see ‘em in the window, I go topless. Those bastards threw the window open, and they’re not even trying to be quiet. One of ‘em pulls out a camera, and they’re all grabbing their cocks like they can’t stand it. Just so happened their dad got home early that day, and he catches them! They were grounded for the rest of the summer, and he made them write apology letters to me!”

She started laughing, and MacCready tried to laugh along, but just then, it was a little difficult. He kept flashing back to his own encounter, and couldn’t help but wonder what kind of revenge she’d want to take on HIM. Suddenly she frowned, grasping his arm.

“Hey, I know it was kinda terrible of me. I was just a kid.”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “Sounds like those assh- those guys deserved it.”

The rest of the day they worked in uneasy silence. Mac couldn’t stop thinking about how he deserved a punishment at least as much as those kids did . . . probably a lot more. After all, he was grown, and he knew it hadn’t been right to keep watching her. His only consolation was that he was spending most of his time in agony, wanting the kind of relief he knew he wasn’t likely to get anytime soon. The only privacy he ever really got was the time he spent in his bunk, and with Poe laying right beneath him, he wouldn’t dare. Even on the darkest nights, which were rare, he’d be too afraid he’d make some kind of noise, or call her name by mistake. Not to mention the mess. There was no way he could clean it up without her knowing. So he suffered in silence, burning with guilt, and hoped he’d forget about it eventually.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like that was ever going to happen.

The heat got worse, and Poe dressed in less. Cutoff shorts, loose, thin shirts that she cut into crops and tanks. Sometimes she wore nothing more than a lightweight dress, nearly sheer, that stuck to her skin when she got sweaty and showed him everything he was trying to forget. And at night, when they went to bed, she spent more and more time laying around in her underwear, trying to stay cool. When that wasn’t enough, she’d pipe up to ask him if he’d be bothered if she just laid around naked for a while. He always said it was, because what else was he supposed to do? Besides, she gave him the same opportunity. Not that he’d take it, of course. It was bad enough, knowing she was laid beneath him, completely naked, and that all it would take was a few moves to be able to touch her. If he was naked too, he couldn’t bear it. So he tossed and turned, his mind in a knot snd his body aching, and waited for dawn. It was fine, even if he was more exhausted than he’d ever been before.

Then she noticed.

“Having trouble sleeping, Mac?”

He’d been rustling around, having woke the past three nights in a row from dreams of fucking her. It was always, ALWAYS right before he came, meaning he was hard as a rock, leaking, and pulsing with need, but with no way to finish things. He was dreading another night of the same, because he was already entirely too distracted, and was beginning to feel like he might explode from the pent up lust he was carrying. But obviously, he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Yeah,” he muttered instead. “Can’t seem to relax.”

She sighed heavily.

“Same. I don’t know if it’s the heat or what . . . but I just can’t seem to settle down lately.”

There were several moments of silence. Mac knew it must’ve been around midnight, because everyone else had gone to sleep, too, and the entire settlement was quiet. Maybe that was why the next thing she said was so loud to him.

“Maybe we can help each other out.”

Mac frowned to himself.

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Well, we’re good friends, right? We trust each other? I watch your back and you watch mine.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Right. Wouldn’t trust just anyone like I trust you.”

“Exactly! So . . . friends as close as we are, they can help each other. With anything. Right?”

Something was being hinted at, he knew that much. But what it was, he had no clue. Then she started talking again, and the world started spinning.

“I mean, I remember from my days in school, that one of the best ways to relax was to have a great orgasm.”

If he’d been drinking something, he’d have choked. As it was, he stopped breathing. He insisted to himself that he hadn’t heard her right, he pinched himself to see if it was a dream. When she spoke again, it was in a nervous rush.

“I mean we don’t have to or anything. It was an idea. I’d say I could do it myself, but it seems weird to do it with you RIGHT THERE, and if you’re having trouble too . . . but I don’t want you to think . . . shit. I’m sorry. It was-“

“Okay.”

He couldn’t quite believe he’d said it, but he also couldn’t quite believe she was offering to do what she was. And if she was, he wasn’t going to walk away from it, not when it might be the only chance he had to finally get rid of the aching in his groin.

“So . . . how do you want to . . . do this?”

She thought for a second.

“Well, I can come up there, or you can come down here.”

Hesitantly, he climbed down off the top bunk, and she scooted to the wall. Once he’d climbed into the bed beside her, they lay in silence, facing each other, but not touching. Finally, she reached out, her hand brushing over his bare chest. As she clasped the back of his neck, she leaned in close.

“We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

“I do.” He swallowed hard. “I really do.”

Chapter Text

Mac’s body tensed as Poe’s hand slipped down his side, then grasped his hand to place it on her hip.

“Relax,” she breathed. “We’re just two friends, helping each other out with a little problem. If you wanna stop at any time, we can, no hard feelings.”

Gently, he massaged her hip, unsure what else to do, unsure if he should kiss her. Were friends supposed to kiss, even if they were getting each other off?

“You can touch me, you know.” Her fingers trailed the thin line of hair at his waistline. “However you want. I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”

He nodded, then let his fingers stretch around the back of her hip. Slowly, he traced the thin, soft fabric, imagining the softness of her skin beneath it, remembering how she looked that evening in the setting sun. As he ran his hand along the soft curve, he pictured her shape, and a low hum of satisfaction buzzed in his throat.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Like that.”

She hooked her leg over his calf, pulling herself closer, and he squeezed the softness in his hand. His fingertips found the edge of her cheek and he traced it, up and down, while her hands explored his chest. The scent of her hair was in his nose, it’s softness against his lips, and, without meaning to, he kissed it. Touching her, feeling her touch him, it was like heaven. Her hips pressed forward against him, and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning into her hair. She did it again, and this time he heard her quiet sound of pleasure join his, flooding his body with heat.

“Mac,” she moaned quietly, leading his hand upward to cup her breast. “Mac, can I touch you now?”

Her voice sounded breathless, betraying the want she was trying to hold back, and he thought he’d never heard anything so sexy. He let go of her breast to grasp her wrist, taking a page from her book and guiding it to the front of his boxers. Just as she brushed the tip of his cock, his hand found her breast once more, and he moaned, louder this time.

“Oh . . . Mac . . . .”

She grasped him eagerly through his boxers, wrapping her hand around him the best she could and pumping him slowly. Hot pleasure pooled between his hips. He’d have to be careful, keep himself in check. Otherwise he’d be making a mess of them both before he had a chance to really enjoy the moment.

“Damn, Poe. You’re good at this.”

He felt her smile as she buried her face against his chest, and his heart gave a twist he tried hard to ignore. This was purely pleasure, between friends, she’d said so. But the skill with which she was drawing pleasure from him, even through his boxers, made him fall for her just a little bit more in spite of himself. Her hand sped up slightly, and he bucked forward into her. He grabbed her ass hard, and she writhed in his arms.

“Please,” she groaned into his neck. “Mac, please . . . touch me . . . .”

His hand wedged carefully between them, resting near hers as he explored the front of her underwear. He didn’t want to seem too eager, or like he’d been thinking about doing this exact thing for god only knew how long now . . . even though he had. He wanted to seem casual, interested, but not as desperate as he felt.

Then he traced the line of her slit with his fingers, and a desperate, lascivious moan came from deep in her chest. With that, Mac realized that, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one who’d been aching lately. Especially if the damp heat he felt between her thighs was any indication.

Suddenly, his hand slid into the front of her underwear, and her leg wrapped around his waist, hips thrusting forward to meet his touch. She was wet beyond belief, hot and hungry, and, for a moment, Mac lost all control of himself. Two of his fingers slid inside of her with no resistance, pumping hard and fucking her with the same desperate need he felt throbbing through his cock. And she reacted exactly like he’d want her to, if it was his cock instead, moaning, writhing, throwing her head back as she surrendered to him. His body rolled slightly atop hers as his mouth found her throat, his cock grinding against the softness of her thigh, and she gripped his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping her tethered to earth. Her nails bit in, they might’ve drawn blood, but neither could care when such pleasure rolled through their bodies. As she cursed softly, his thumb found her clit, and all at once his name was in the air, a pleading chant, and her hips moved frantically against his touch.

“I need it . . ,” she panted in his ear, her tongue tracing it’s shell. “Mac, I need you to make me cum . . . .”

Had any words ever sounded more perfect in his ear? Her voice, frenzied with lust, begging him for release. As if he alone were capable of giving her what she needed. As if, without his touch, she’d be left forever wanting, unable to gain the sweet delivery of bliss.

He wouldn’t keep her waiting.

His mouth traced the delicate column of her throat, fingers withdrawing from her heat to slide upwards, to the swollen bloom of her clit. Immediately, she let out a shivering moan. Her legs spread beneath him, one knee raised, to grant him access. As slowly as he dared, he traced her shape, committing it to memory, teasing at the same time. That sweet, plump jewel, pulsing beneath his touch, was the only wealth he needed. Her breath, it’s soft, needy whine, was the only sound he could bear. He’d spend the rest of eternity there, touching her, pouring ecstasy across her, even at the cost of his own life. He’d ask for no return, if he could only spread those soft pink lips, make her moan, make her cum, for the rest of forever.

Her body tensed beneath his, back arching as her voice rose into a groan of satisfaction, snd his fingers slid into the wet of her opening once more. As his thumb held pressure on her clit, he felt the pulse of her walls around him, tightening, releasing, and wished once more it was his cock instead.

When she fell relaxed beside him, he was surprised to feel her hand suddenly against his cheek, stroking it tenderly. Though his hand was still wedged in between her legs, his fingers inside of her, she pulled his head towards her, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks, Mac. You have NO idea how much I needed that. I’ve just been so stressed lately.”

He tried to ignore the way he strained against his boxers, the way he throbbed with need.

“I, uh . . ,” he swallowed hard. “Anytime, Poe.”

She pressed her face into his chest, breathing a soft laugh against his skin.

“I might have to hold you to that.”

She adjusted her position, letting him pull his hand back. As subtly as he could, he stuck his fingers in his mouth, eagerly lapping her taste up. She was every bit as delicious as he’d imagined, and he couldn’t help but groan a little.

“Mmm-“ she moved suddenly, leaning her body into his. “I still have my part of the bargain to keep up.”

He was about to tell her she didn’t have to, it was okay, even if he knew it could mean months of torture ahead of him. After all, he didn’t want her to feel like she owed him something, just because he’d gotten her off. Then her hand was in his boxers, wrapping around him, and a groaned curse was falling out of his mouth.

“Oh my god . . . fuck . . . just . . . fuck . . ,” he breathed, barely conscious of what he was saying, and Poe laughed.

“Good, so you DO want this.”

“Yeah,” he moaned as she stroked him slowly. “Oh god, yeah.”

There were no more words as her hand moved up and down the hard length of his cock, just groans and whimpers that grew quickly in both volume and desperation. And not just from Mac. Poe moaned along with him, teasing him with her fingers, fondling his balls and stroking her thumb along the sensitive underside of his tip, until he was sure he was going to burst with need. And as she touched him, she edged her body closer, until her hips were nearly against his, and his cock was resting at the junction of her thighs. It wept with desperation, leaking precum until her underwear were soaked and sticking to her, and Mac began to wonder if she were going to let him cum, or just tease him until he spontaneously combusted.

“Hey, Mac?” She whispered in his ear, fingertips trailing the back of his neck. “I’ve got an idea. You trust me?”

He nodded, head clouded with lust. He was mesmerized by her voice, enchanted by the movement of her hand. Scooting forward, she pushed him between her thighs, his stiff length pressing up hard against her. Then she crossed her legs at the ankles, squeezing tightly, and started rocking her hips.

Both groaned at the same time, and Mac’s hands flew to her ass to pull her against him. It wasn’t sex, but, damn, it was close. Her thighs were slick with their juices, making it so easy for him to slide between them, and he could feel the way her lips spread beneath her underwear to let the ridge of his head rub over her clit. Each time it did, she gasped, angling her hips and pressing harder against him. The faster he moved, the harder her breathing, until he knew, if he could hold off his own orgasm long enough, he could make her cum again, and, god, how he wanted to. Without his hands, or his tongue, just his cock, rubbing hard against the swell of her clit, until she fell apart.

He almost didn’t make it. The hotter things got, the harder she squeezed her thighs together, and the better they felt around him. Soon he was so frantic he could barely control himself, thrusting his hips wildly, gripping her ass so hard he knew he’d probably leave a bruise. And then she reached down, pulling aside the thin cloth that separated them, and he slid against her lips directly, their warm, slick surface nearly wrapping around him. Three more thrusts, and he knew it was over. The tight ball of heat inside of him exploded, and his cock followed suit. Fortunately, that was when he felt her nails in his hip, digging bloody crescents into his skin as she squirmed along his length. As her thighs milked the hot jets of his cum, she moaned her satisfaction into his ear, and he pressed kisses into her throat, forgetting his earlier hesitancy.

Silence fell, the only noise their panted breath as they recovered. They didn’t move from each other’s arms, their limbs heavy with exhaustion, until Poe shifted uncomfortably, then crawled over him. As he looked on, she pulled off her underwear, tossing it aside and grabbing a clean cloth from the stack she kept in her dresser. Once she’d wiped herself down, she tossed it to Mac.

“Figured we don’t want to fall asleep like that,” she said as she pulled on a fresh pair of underwear. “God, that would be a mess.”

MacCready laughed nervously as he wiped himself clean. Truthfully, there wasn’t much to clear. Most had gone into her underwear, a thought that sent a flash of desire through him. He was just trying to decide if he should go back to his bunk or if that would be rude when he felt her at his shoulder, nudging him over. As she slid into the bed beside him, she grabbed hold of his wrist and placed his arm over her waist.

“If you wanna go back to your bed you can, of course,” she murmured sleepily, burying her face in his chest. “But if you’re okay with it, I’d like this.”

She pulled her body tight against his, and sighed in contentment as she settled in his arms. Before long, he felt her breathing slow into the rhythm of sleep. Gently, he traced the side of her face, then tucked her hair behind her ear. Longing twisted in his stomach, and he sighed. With her there, in his arms, he was perfectly happy, or at least as much as he felt he could ever be. But she wasn’t his, and the moment couldn’t last. Even if they made what had just happened a regular thing, he’d always want more. But if he told her that, he risked losing her completely.

As rough as it had been, his life had been much simpler before he met her. A set arrangement, one goal, and no distractions. Now everything seemed like a distraction. Either he was distracted from her, or he was distracted BY her. But he couldn’t convince himself to give her up, and his other goal, well, giving up wasn’t an option. Even the thought of it terrified him more than he could ever express.

Chapter Text

When MacCready woke, he was alone on the bottom bunk. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his eyes, before giving up and rolling over to press his face into the pillow.

Fuck, it smelled like her.

He shouldn’t be swearing, he knew that, even in his own head. He’d promised to try and be a better person, even if he still killed people for a living. Maybe it was ridiculous, but it made him feel less like a waste of a human being, and more like someone who deserved . . . anything, really. A life. A real life, settling down and being a normal person. Someone who DIDN’T shoot people.

With a groan, he rolled to his back again, one hand resting limply on his stomach as he thought about the night before, and what had happened with Poe. It had been . . . well, it had been amazing. More than he thought he’d ever get, and he was unbelievably grateful for it. Her hand and thighs had given him the sort of pleasure he hadn’t felt in a long, long time, and his body was thoroughly satisfied, lacking the ache he’d grown used to. The problem was, without the lust that his been clouding his mind, his feelings were on display in a way he couldn’t just push aside. He couldn’t blame the fact that she was always on his mind on his need to get off, because he just had. And if he didn’t do something about the way he was feeling, it was going to end up biting him in the ass, he just knew it. It’d fall out of his mouth at the worst possible time, or someone would notice and he’d deny it and ruin everything.

He ran a hand over his face before sitting up, then sighed heavily. Soon. He’d say something soon. Sometime when things were relaxed, they were getting along, and she was in a really, really good mood. Sometime when they hadn’t just gotten each other off, so she knew it wasn’t some ridiculous guilt or attachment thing, and he knew that she meant what she said.

Yeah.

Whenever that happened.

He dressed slowly, in the same basics he’d been wearing since the heatwave started. It’s not like he needed his full gear anyway, just hanging around Sanctuary, so the white t-shirt and worn pants were enough. Then, once he was dressed, he wandered out into the day, blinking in the bright sunshine. Poe found him almost immediately.

“Man, I thought you were gonna sleep all day.”

“Nah,” he shrugged, “I get headaches if I sleep too late. Especially in this heat.”

She turned to him, putting her hands on her hips.

“Got good news.”

“And?”

“We can get into Kellogg’s. Or we will be able to, at least.”

“Great! How’d you manage that?”

He saw her glance over to where Preston was working nervously before she beckoned him towards her.

“C’mon, I wanna check progress on the bath house. I’ll tell you on the way.”

He knew perfectly well that she didn’t need to check progress, she’d done that late yesterday, and it wasn’t late enough in the day that any big chunk of work could have occurred. But he also knew better than to question it, especially the way she’d looked at Garvey. So he walked beside her dutifully, waiting for her to speak. As soon as they were out of hearing range, she did.

“I, uh,” she swallowed hard. “I had to ask Mama Murphy to use The Sight. I didn’t want to, believe me,” she rushed out. “It’s just that I wasn’t making any progress with the locks, and nobody had any other ideas. Or at least, ones that wouldn’t draw attention.”

“But doesn’t she need-“

“Drugs, yeah.” She shoved a hand in her back pocket, looking down. “I told you, I didn’t want to! I don’t like giving her that stuff, but we could only wait so long and-“

“Hey, easy.” He grabbed her arm gently, rubbing it up and down. “I know.”

“Well, the point is that we can get in, so I thought we’d head back to Diamond City soon. Maybe take Dogmeat, just in case we find anything? Oh, AND I promised Preston we’d meet him with any Minutemen he can round up over by Fort Independence, just to go ahead and take care of that. We’ll all head out at the same time, to give him a chance to gather everyone while we do what we need to.”

“Right. So . . . .”

He wanted to say something, anything about what had happened. Just to acknowledge it. But what the hell was he supposed to say? Even if he didn’t confess his feelings, all he could do was tell her thanks for the orgasm, and that he’d be up for doing it again anytime she wanted. That seemed a little bit tasteless. Besides, he was pretty sure she knew that, given the way he’d cum all over her thighs.

“So I guess you’d better pack. Thank god you’ve healed most of the way.”

Mac hated traveling with Garvey. It took him all of twenty minutes to realize that. The man was optimistic to a fault, constantly making chipper remarks and trying to cheer up anyone who looked even slightly down. He was also, somehow, an incredibly paranoid person . . . and that was coming from HIM. He’d probably still sleep with a knife under his pillow, waiting for Poe to kill him in his sleep, if he hadn’t fallen in love with her.

And that was the other thing about Garvey. Maybe it was just because she was The General, or whatever, but Garvey pretty much never left Poe’s side. It was like he thought he was the only person in the world capable of protecting her. Well, she’d HIRED him to protect her, so clearly Garvey was lacking. Not that it stopped him from interfering every time Mac tried to get a word in edgewise. He couldn’t even ask her to take a walk to look at the sunset without Preston butting in about how he didn’t think it was a good idea.

It was a relief when they parted, and he had Poe all to himself again. Well, there was Dogmeat, of course, but Dogmeat was just as devoted to Poe as he was, and he didn’t stop them from getting close. If anything, Dogmeat liked them near each other, because it meant twice as many hands to pet him.

When they got into Diamond City, MacCready expected that they’d head straight to Kellogg’s, or maybe to Nick’s to grab him. Instead, Poe detoured into a small section underneath the stands, just below the house Kellogg had been living in. For a minute, she scrambled around, brushing away dirt here and there, before letting out an exasperated huff.

“Look, I know this will sound crazy, but Mama Murphy said there was a key down here somewhere.”

“THAT’S what you’re going off of? That old bat’s probably half crazy anyway. I know she’s gotten some stuff right, but-“

“BUT you should probably shut up and help me look,” Poe snapped, then sighed, softening. “I KNOW what it seems like. But it’s the only lead I could get. You start down there, I’ll start here, and hopefully we’ll find something before we meet in the middle.”

There was a quiet shuffling for several long minutes, only broken by Dogmeat’s occasional whine or soft bark. After a while, it seemed he even got in on the search, trotting back and forth with his nose to the ground and sniffing furiously. Then, suddenly, Mac heard Poe laughing.

“Hell. Fucking. Yeah. I got a key, Mac!”

“Yeah, well, let’s go check it out before we get too excited.”

Dogmeat at their heels, they trekked up to Kellogg’s former doorway, Mac half holding his breath. He wanted it to work, he really did. It just seemed a little far out there to him. To think that some old lady halfway across the Commonwealth could somehow just KNOW where a key was . . . it just didn’t seem likely.

Then the key slid in, and the door opened.

“Yes! Let’s go get Nick.”

Between Nick and Dogmeat, tracking down Kellogg had been relatively easy. A few problems along the trip, but nothing that Poe, Mac, and Dogmeat couldn’t handle. They’d even found a way into the fort relatively easily, and the synths inside had only been a moderate inconvenience. All in all, it had seemed like finding a way to her brother would be, if not easy, then at least doable.

Then they’d faced Kellogg.

“Your brother’s not here. Don’t worry, he’s safe. Not quite the bouncing baby boy you remember, but he’s safe. Surrounded by people who love him, in a place he calls home. The Institute.”

She’d seen the smug look on his face, and she’d known immediately he’d never tell her where it was, or how to get in. Every ounce of patience she’d been holding onto, every thread keeping her temper in line, all of it fell in tatters to the floor. This was the man responsible for the death of the only person she’d ever known as family, the man who’d raised her and taught her to be a person she was proud of. She was angry, and hurt, and she lashed out like she never had in her life.

She fired three rapid shots at Kellogg’s chest, making him stumble backwards before he could reach the stealth boy at his side. One more managed to catch his side, just as he disappeared. Then he began firing in return, and the world exploded into sound. Mac focused on the synths, keeping them from doing too much damage to Poe, while she laid into Kellogg with everything she had. How she managed to spot him, he didn’t know, but he’d be damned if he’d let the man get away.

He managed one more use of the stealth boy before it was over, disappearing into a hail of bullets. By that time it was only the three of them, two against one, and even invisibility couldn’t beat those odds. Besides, Poe had done a number on him. He was weak, bleeding out onto the floor to give away his location, and they showed no mercy. Mac let Poe take the last shot, because she deserved that much, and so much more he couldn’t give. Then, she took the nearest handy item and began beating the body, cursing and swearing, making a bitter pulp from the demon in front of her.

Once she stilled over his dead body, her hands started shaking. The next thing Mac knew, she was collapsing to the floor, and he barely managed to catch her and sit her on the nearby steps. She was covered in blood, but he couldn’t have cared less as he wrapped his arms around her trembling, sobbing figure.

“Mac, what am I gonna do? My brother’s gone, to the one place no one knows how to get to. He could be in trouble, he could be brainwashed, he could be dead as far as I know, if Kellogg was lying. I don’t . . . I don’t fucking know. I’m lost. It feels like I’m starting all over again.”

Mac smoothed her bloody hair away from her face.

“Then we start all over again. Together.”

She smiled at him sadly before burying her face in his chest and crying for everything she was worth. He didn’t know how long they sat there, just that she cried and cried, until she ran out of tears. Then, she sat up, wiping her face on her shirt.

“We still have to meet Garvey, and fight whatever kind of thing’s taken over his precious Castle.”

“Okay,” Mac murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair. “So we take a minute, go through our dead friend’s pockets and files, see if we can find a clue. Then we head over. You point & I’ll shoot. Between the two of us, nothing out there stands a chance.”

Chapter Text

Somewhere between Fort Hagen and Fort Independence, Poe had grabbed hold of his hand. Admittedly, it had startled him a little, but after what she’d just been through, he figured she could use a little extra touch. God knows he could’ve stood to hold someone’s hand a few times in his life. So he twined his fingers with hers, and tried to still the pounding of his heart by reminding himself of that fact over and over. By the time they met Garvey and his crew, he’d almost succeeded.

Then, while they were discussing the best approach, she’d leaned into his side. Not a big deal or anything, he’d told himself, just positioning herself to see everyone better. Except she kept wiggling around, subtle, barely noticeable movements, until her back was against his chest and the arm he’d propped on the counter was essentially wrapped around her waist. After that, it hadn’t taken a lot for his hand to end up resting on her hip. The only reason he didn’t move away was that he figured she needed the comfort . . . plus he really liked having her like that. The fact that Garvey kept glancing between them and frowning was just a bonus.

When they decided on their approach, everyone left to get into their respective positions, but when Mac moved to leave, her hand on his arm stilled him. She waited until everyone was out of sight, then, slowly, she turned in his arms. He had her pinned between his chest and the counter, but she was the one leaning into his body, sliding her hands up his arms to rest around his neck. His heart went thumping away, completely out of his control. It didn’t listen when he said she just needed solace, someone to hold her, that it could’ve been anyone. In fact, he was pretty sure it skipped a beat as if to tell him he was kind of an idiot.

That was when she pulled him down into a long, slow kiss, using his slack jaw as a chance to slip her tongue into his mouth. He was pretty sure he’d never experienced something so instantly sensual as their tongues gliding against each other, her hand in his hair as her breasts pressed into his chest. Without intending to, he cupped his hand around her ass and squeezed, and the way she moaned made his head swim and his cock stiffen almost immediately. A fact she must have noticed, because he felt her hips rock into his for just a moment, a teasing pressure that made him want to forget about the assault completely and pull her into the nearest area with any semblance of privacy.

Then the kiss ended as quickly as it had begun, and her hands slid down to rest against his chest. Though his breath was short and strained, hers was slow and even as she whispered into his ear.

“Good luck, Mac.”

Then she slipped away to take her place.

MacCready didn’t really remember most of the fight. There were a shitton of mirelurks, mirelurk eggs, and mirelurk hatchlings, and the constant sound of gunfire. Every time they thought they were done, more came scuttling out, whipping and snapping their claws. Then they’d explode in a mass of viscera, and you’d turn to the next one. It was disgusting, and it smelled like stagnant, salty water and rotten seafood.

The one sight he’d never forget, though, was the instant he laid eyes on the mirelurk queen, raging in the crumbled section of wall closest to the sea. She was a great, hulking beast, all sharp shell and venom spraying from her mouth, and behind her, she left a trail of vicious hatchlings. And standing in front of her was Poe.

He held his breath as she ran up the rocks and stone, to the top of the Castle walls. Technically, it was a sound strategy. Not only was she keeping the queen away from the others so they didn’t get trampled underfoot, but she was making it an easy target. Knowing that didn’t keep him from worrying, though. Still, he tried to focus on taking the thing down, and when it finally fell, he ran to her side.

“How the hell did you not get hurt during all that?”

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “Lucky?”

He pulled her into a tight hug, letting go as soon as he realized what he’d done. Poe looked down with a soft smile, and a faint blush rose on his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, don’t do stupid shit like that, okay?”

“Sure thing, Mac.”

While the others cleared out the mirelurk nests, Poe, MacCready, and Preston took stock of the supplies at hand, from ammunition to beds, and tried to make arrangements for everyone there. It was insisted she take The General’s Quarters, but she only agreed when they promised to make sure that everyone could sleep behind a closed door. Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference, if an attack came, but she preferred the idea of extra security for everyone. It was well after dark by the time everything had been moved, and everyone was exhausted. With turrets set up and guards in place, Poe dragged MacCready off to bed.

As usual, she insisted that he room with her, but when he saw the twin beds, he assumed they’d sleep far apart. Instead, she had him help her push the beds together, headboards against the wall, feet towards the door. She followed her normal routine of cleaning up and changing before bed, and this time, Mac did the same. Partly to distract himself, he had to admit. The kiss from earlier was still on his mind, and he knew that if he let himself look at her, he wouldn’t be able to stop. So he wiped himself clean, changing into fresh boxers and a t-shirt before climbing into bed.

The air was cooler right next to the ocean, and while Poe adjusted by throwing on a t-shirt instead of her usual tank, her legs were covered only by the thin blanket. Soon, she was shivering slightly, and drew closer to Mac for warmth. As she twined her legs with his, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

“Thanks.”

“Not about to let you freeze to death,” he said, snd she gave him a gentle smile.

For some time, neither of them spoke. Despite their tired bodies, they lay there, looking into each other’s eyes, shifting slightly from time to time. Poe put her hand against his cheek, thumb stroking his bottom lip softly, leaning in as he let her rest her head on his arm. When she threw her leg over his hip, at first he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. He tried on her arm, then on her hip, but nothing felt quite right, and she seemed almost fidgety. Then, somehow, his hand found a place on her thigh, and she sighed in contentment.

“Glad I walked into the Third Rail that day.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Without really thinking about it, he rubbed his hand up and down the length of her thigh, not noticing how she inched closer each time he neared her hip. Her face was nearly touching his, breath ghosting over his skin as she played in his hair. Another nudge, a slight shift, and somehow he ended up with his fingertips tracing the leg of underwear. But he didn’t stop. Instead, when her hips shifted towards him again, he let his fingers slip beneath the thin fabric. A gentle squeeze, and her eyes closed, a shuddering breath leaving her lips. He tried to keep his hand steady, running a smooth path along her skin as he cupped her cheek and let his fingers trace along its seam.

Did she want him the way he wanted her in that moment?

“I, uh . . . I never really got a chance to thank you for helping me take out Winlock and Barnes.”

She leaned in closer, until he could feel her words against his lips.

“It’s okay. I wanted to.”

Her voice was dark, thick. Was it desire? Was blood rushing for her like it was for him? His throat was dry, when he spoke it almost came out in a croak.

“You stuck your neck out for me. More than that, you saved me. If you hadn’t been there-“

“I told you, I wanted to.”

Fingers in his hair, his mind growing hazy. Not with sleep, but more than lust. He wanted her. Wanted to pin her beneath the weight of his body, cover her in kisses, mark her all over with love bites. Tell everyone . . . this is mine. Mine. Only mine, and always mine. She held his leash, she gave the commands. Just as long as he got to say that.

“Yeah, but I’m still fu- I mean I’m still grateful.”

She laughed, and it made the fire burning inside of him rise higher.

“You can curse, you know. It’s not like I don’t.” Her arms snaked around his neck, and she rolled slightly, until he was half on top of her. “In fact, I think I’d like to hear it, under the right circumstances.”

She rolled her hips, slow and steady against the erection straining at his boxers, and his eyes closed as he let out a stuttered groan. With his mouth half open, she kissed his chin.

“You’ve been taking better care of your teeth.”

Another slow roll, this time with her arms around him to hold him tighter against her. He tried to prop himself up to see her better, but the feeling of her against him was too good, he could only groan as he tried to speak.

“Trying to . . . to do better. Be a better person.”

She’d maneuvered him between her legs now, her hips rocking against him almost constantly. Her shirt was hiked up to her stomach, and he could feel heat radiating from the space between her thighs. Whether it was from him or her, he didn’t know. Maybe it was both. He only knew she was breathing almost as hard as he was, panting desperately as she ground against him.

“Yeah,” she gasped out, “what for?”

His head was clouded, he could barely focus on anything but the friction and heat building between them, how much he wanted things to go further. Her shirt was gathered up under her breasts now, it would’ve taken almost nothing to have them exposed.

“I . . ,” he started, grasping blindly at an answer. “My son. I promised my son I’d try to be better.”

“Your son?”

The rhythm of her hips stalled, and his eyes flew open to look down at her. The part of his brain not still caught up in thoughts of sex was rushing to try and catch up with what was going on, but between the two he was lagging painfully behind.

“Yeah. When I left the Capital Wasteland, I wasn’t just leaving Little Lamplight. I left my family, too.”

She blinked hard a few times, and his face twisted in confusion, then sadness as he rolled to lay beside her. Though she kept her arm around him, he got the distinct feeling she was drawing away, a chasm of distance opening between them.

“Your family?”

“Mm-hmm. I-“

He swallowed hard. The memories were painful, but he wanted to share. It felt right to share it with her, after everything they’d been through.

“I had a beautiful wife named Lucy.” He felt his throat close around her name, he hadn’t said it aloud for a long time. “And a son we named Duncan. I . . . I didn’t wanna leave ‘em behind, I didn’t have a choice.”

Her hand against his chest twitched slightly before reaching up to smooth back his hair, then falling away. He stared out into space as he spoke again, willing the tears to stay behind his eyes.

“My son . . . he’s sick. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. One day, he’s just playing behind our farm. Next day, he’s got a fever, with these blue boils. He was too weak to even walk when I left. Honestly? I, uh . . . I don’t know how long he’s gonna last.”

The tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he held them at bay, even if it was just barely. Then he heard her whimper, and she threw her arms around his neck again. The tears fell then, silently, into her shoulder.

“Is there anything we can do, Mac?”

“I . . . I don’t know. A while ago, I ran into a guy, and he said his buddy had the same symptoms. Told me about a place called MedTek research, where there was a cure. They even found the security codes . . . but the guy died before they could go. It’s a long shot, but maybe . . ?”

“Of course. We’ll head out, tomorrow, if you’re ready.”

“I . . . thanks. I know you’ve done a lot, and I hate asking you for more, but-“

“You didn’t ask. I offered. Besides, what are friends for, right?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “What are friends for?”

Chapter Text

“They just keep showing up!”

“Don’t stop shooting!”

MacCready had lost track of how many ferals they’d killed. Last time he’d tried making a run through MedTek, it had been bad. He’d nearly gotten himself killed, and he’d vowed to come back as soon as he could with someone else who could shoot, which was why he’d come with Poe. But he’d had no idea it was THIS badly infested. Poe turned, slamming the butt of her gun into yet another twisted face.

“What the hell? Are these things BREEDING in here?”

Mac shot over Poe’s shoulder, just before another feral reached her.

“I don’t think that’s how it works!”

They ran like hell down a corridor, hoping to find an empty room. If they could just find one, it might buy them enough time to settle their nerves and reload.

All at once, Poe disappeared from in front of him, then a hand reached out and grabbed him. He’d nearly screamed, but Poe clapped her hand over his mouth, shutting the door behind him and sliding the lock. He watched her move to the darkest corner, then squat and go about reloading. She didn’t say a word to him, didn’t even look up.

She’d been like that since they’d left the Castle. No idle conversation, no friendly smiles. When they’d stopped by Diamond City to talk to Nick, she’d relayed what happened with Kellogg dryly, not letting him get a word in. She wouldn’t even get noodles with him. Instead, she’d made some excuse about needing time to think over Nick’s idea with the brain, then checked into her own room at the Dugout. She’d paid for his room, but she wasn’t sharing with him. Now, even in the feral-infested bowels of MedTek, their only conversation revolved around the beasts and keeping each other alive.

Once he’d finished reloading, he stepped tentatively towards her, gun at his side.

“Poe?”

At least she looked up at him.

“Finished, ready to go?”

“No, Poe. I-“

“FUCK!”

Some godawful hulking feral burst through the door, and both started shooting. This time when it was clear, Poe ducked out and headed straight toward the central room on the lower floor, the one they hoped was holding the cure. Mac didn’t have a chance to say anything else, he had to run just to keep her in sight.

He was halfway down the stairs when he saw her, ferals closing in on both sides. He didn’t pause to think, just shot. As far as he could, as fast as he could, until there was enough of a break for him to rush to her side.

“I could’ve fucking handled it, MacCready!”

“The hell you could have!”

More ferals rounded the corners as they stood back to back, shooting them one after another.

“The hell is wrong with you, Poe?” Mac shouted as he swung the end of his gun at a feral who was a little too close for comfort. It flew onto its back, but was on its feet in no time.

“The hell do you mean?”

As she snapped at him, she fired three times in rapid succession.

“You’ve been distant since the Castle! Won’t touch me, barely look at me . . . it’s like we’re strangers all over again!”

She kicked a nearby container, sending it skidding across the floor into a bundle of ferals. They were down just long enough for her to shoot the first three in the head.

“You wanna fucking do this NOW?”

“You’re damn right I do!” He shot the leg of the closest feral out from under it, sending it sliding towards him. “If I end up dying, I at least wanna go knowing what the hell I did wrong!”

He shot the feral in the head, killing it instantly, then turned to help Poe take out the last few coming towards her. A sudden, deafening silence fell as he turned to look at her, chest heaving. Both of them were covered in sweat, filthy, and exhausted. They were right in front of where they needed to be, and the only feral left was a neon green, highly irradiated specimine trapped safely behind a locked door.

Suddenly she dropped the butt of her gun down directly on his toe, and when he bent over in pain and surprise, she kneed him in the side. Thankfully it wasn’t hard, especially not as hard as he knew it could’ve been.

“You could’ve fucking told me you were married, asshole!”

Her scream echoed through the building, and he knew for certain there were no ferals left alive. If there had been, they’d have been on them instantly. Breathless from her knee in his ribs, he didn’t have a chance to speak before she rounded on him.

“You let me keep flirting with you, cuddle with you.” She took a deep breath in, face red with exertion, “I practically had sex with you! Almost twice! And you didn’t think it was important to tell me you had a wife and a fucking KID, waiting for you? No, you had to wait, let me fall head over heels. THEN you tell me! You . . . you fucking . . . .”

She stopped, out of breath and looking down at him. Her eyes were red, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t just sweat rolling down her cheeks. It hurt to see her looking at him the way she was. Like she’d been completely and utterly betrayed. As he thought about the conversation they’d had that night in the Castle, everything clicked into place. Slowly, in case she decided she wanted to inflict more damage on him, he stood upright and turned to face her. He took hold of her elbows and looked into her eyes.

“Had.”

She blinked.

“What?”

“Had. I HAD a wife. I have a son, named Duncan. But Lucy?” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Remember I told you that time, about how I’d seen someone torn apart by ferals?”

He looked down, blinking back tears. God, he hoped she understood, he hoped she didn’t make him say it. If he had to say it, he didn’t know how he’d get through, especially after what had just happened. When he’d seen her from the stairs, he’d instantly been taken back to that day, the fear closing his throat as he’d looked on.

“Oh . . . oh my god, Mac. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

She threw her arms around his neck, standing up on her toes to hug him as tightly as she could. Cautiously, he returned the hug, his arms around her waist, then gently lifted her of the ground for just a moment. Suddenly her words ran through his head, and a single phrase stuck out. He pulled back, looking down into her face with a slight smile tinting his lips.

“Did you say you were head over heels for me?”

A sharp, short laugh burst from her, and she pulled his forehead down to hers.

“Yes I did, you ass. Is that all you got out of that?”

“No. But it seemed pretty damn important to me, considering the way I’ve been feeling about you.”

“Yeah?”

She smiled, and he cupped her face gently.

“Yeah.”

He leaned in to kiss her . . . just as the feral locked away threw itself against the glass. With a short laugh, they pulled away from each other.

“Guess we’d better finish the job, huh?”

“Right behind you, boss,” he grinned.

He couldn’t believe it when they finally had the cure in his hand. For a few moments, he could only stare, a goofy grin on his face. His son had a chance, a real chance, and it was thanks to Poe. Finally, he opened his mouth.

“We’ve gotta get this to Daisy, in Goodneighbor. She’s the only person I’d trust to make sure this gets to Duncan.”

“Then let’s go!”

Poe grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the elevator. It was only once they were inside, doors sliding closed, that he remembered. He’d gotten so caught up in his joy at getting the cure, he’d nearly forgotten the second best thing to happen to him. For just a second, his eyes met hers. Then he swept her into a long, passionate kiss, one that didn’t end until they’d reached their destination and the elevator doors scraped open.

They walked to Goodneighbor with their hands firmly linked. Though he didn’t doubt they’d have handled themselves just fine, MacCready was on cloud nine, and grateful they didn’t run into trouble. It meant more time to touch her, his thumb running over the back of her hand, and more time to stare at her out of the corner of his eye. Without trouble, he had the chance to think about how his life had turned around, all in the span of a few minutes. He was going to save his son, and the woman he’d fallen in love with loved him, too.

Daisy was ecstatic, promising to get the cure on the next caravan. Once he’d handed it over, Mac took the time to tell her the basic story of how they’d come through MedTek. Of course, he left out the part about the argument and the kiss, but he had a feeling Daisy knew anyway. She’d always read him like a book, and he’d never been quite as giddy as he was then. As they headed out of her store, Daisy stopped Poe for just a second.

“Take care of him for me, huh? He’s one of the good ones.”

“Don’t I know it,” Poe smiled. Then she placed a hand on his shoulder and stretched up on her toes to kiss his cheek, making him blush like crazy.

If Daisy hadn’t figured it out before, she definitely knew after that.

They decided to go to the Third Rail for a few drinks after that, in celebration. The problem was that a few drinks turned into more than a few. Both of them were in such a good mood it was hard to resist, and before long they were laughing and joking with some of the people MacCready knew, their arms wrapped around each other. Then, little by little, hands started wandering and kisses lingered, until Whitechapel Charlie not so subtly suggested they might want to head to the Rexford. Mac took one look at Poe, her cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, and decided at once that it was the best damn idea he ever heard.

They stumbled into the room a few minutes later, all sloppy kisses and fumbling hands. Mac’s hat went one direction, while one of Poe’s boots went in another, thumping against the wall. As she hobbled backwards, she tripped, grabbing hold of Mac’s waist to steady herself, but that only resulted in both of them falling . . . straight onto the bed.

“Well, this is convenient.”

“Shut up, Mac,” Poe giggled, crawling on top of him.

His hands traced her sides as he sucked marks into her neck and throat, while she pulled at his t-shirt. Unfortunately, his jacket and button-down were still on top of it at the time. When he finally realized what the problem was, he slipped out from underneath her, sitting up to peel the items from his shoulders. Meanwhile, she’d hiked up her leg to take off her other boot. She only managed to get the laces loosened before Mac dove on top of her again, his hands creeping beneath her shirt to fondle her breasts. A quiet giggle erupted from him, like a teenager touching a girl for the first time. As he pushed her shirt up, she wiggled beneath him, trying to unbutton his pants. Just as she was about to ask for help, he laid his open mouth on the exposed flesh above her bra, and she gasped.

“Fuck! Careful, Mac.”

“Too much?” He drew back.

“A little. Don’t bite so hard.”

“Sorry,” he murmured as his face disappeared between her breasts. “Got carried away.”

The silence of the room soon filled with soft groans and gasps for breath as they explored each other’s bodies. Before long, Poe’s pants were cast aside, Mac was shirtless, and they were grinding into each other desperately.

“Mac,” Poe moaned against his mouth, “Mac, take off your fucking pants.”

He reached down, shoving at his pants with one hand, and then the other, trying not to pull away from her lips. All he ended up succeeding in doing was getting both legs caught around his boots, which he’d forgotten to take off.

“Poe?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m stuck.”

With a grunt of annoyance, she wedged herself out from under him, then forced him to his back. As she dropped to the ground in front of him, she glanced up once at the skyscraper he was hiding in his boxers, then set about rearranging his pants, tugging this way and that, until his boots were exposed. Frowning, she pulled at the ties, looping, unlooping, trying to sort out how they’d even been tied in the first place.

Meanwhile, above her, Mac started humming tunelessly.

Finally, the had his boots loosened, and plopped on her ass to pull them off. Mac kept moving, making it difficult, but eventually she managed, then stood to reach for his pants. Somehow, she’d expected more resistance, so when she pulled on them, she stumbled backwards and fell.

“Um . . . Mac?”

The humming stopped.

“A little help here?”

He peered into the semi-darkness, finally locating her near the door.

“Why are you on the floor?”

“I fell, dumbass.”

He made his way over to her, extending his hand and pulling her up to collide with his chest. Then, with a contented hum, he wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re so soft . . . .”

For a moment, she resisted, then finally she leaned into his embrace. With her arms around his waist and her face in his chest, she sighed.

“Mac, I think we might be too drunk for this.”

He drew back suddenly.

“What? No, we just-“

Then he stumbled, stepping backward until he ran into the bed. As he fell onto his back, Poe chased after him to settle in his arms.

“Yeah,” he conceded. “You might be right.”

“I still want to.”

“Me too. But . . . I guess there’s always another day.”

“Yeah.” She paused for a moment. “Where’s your shirt?”

“Uh,” he rummaged beside the bed, “here. Why?”

“Because,” she answered, tossing aside her own shirt and her bra. “I’m sleeping in it. It smells like you, so I get twice as much of you.”

Mac laughed as they settled into the bed, this time at the proper angle.

“That’s fine with me. Means it smells like you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

When MacCready woke up, Poe was still snuggled against his chest. Her breathing was slow and even, so he assumed she was still sleeping, though he couldn’t see her eyes to tell for sure. For a few minutes, he just took her in, remembering the day before. Terrifying, yes, with the ferals and everything, but he’d be willing to bet it would count as one of the best days of his life.

Next to him, Poe shifted, her leg rubbing up against his, and her arm wrapped around him tightly.

“Morning Mac,” she yawned. “Sleep okay?”

“Slept great, knowing you were here.”

She smiled up at him before propping up on her elbow for a series of playful kisses, nipping at his bottom lip. After a contented sigh, he rolled to face her.

“Don’t thing I’ll ever get tired of kissing you.”

“Good.” She placed a soft kiss on the tip of his nose before continuing. “Because I don’t plan on stopping.”

That started a playful cuddle fight that ended in him pulling her on top of him, his hands cupped over the back of her thighs. He could see by the way his t-shirt was stretched across her breasts that he wouldn’t be wearing it that day, not unless he wanted it in a very odd shape. Not that it mattered to him. As far as he was concerned, she could stretch out every damn one of his shirts. Seeing her in his clothes was a little bit of heaven, although not as much as touching her was. With that thought, he ran his hands up the back of her legs slowly, savoring the softness of her skin as he looked into her eyes. Then, suddenly, his hands stopped, and his eyes widened a little.

“Poe? Not that I’m complaining or anything, but . . . where are your underwear?”

Her hand clapped over a bare ass cheek.

“Shit. I knew something felt wrong.”

Mac laughed beneath her as she dropped her head against his chest, and he grabbed two big handfuls of her ass. As he squeezed and massaged, she wiggled in his grip, not exactly trying to escape. Being with someone you were friends with first felt a lot different than developing a relationship from scratch, he realized. When you were already comfortable with someone, you didn’t worry about embarrassing yourself, because you probably already had. And because of the things that had already happened between them, it didn’t feel awkward to have her without pants and laying on top of him, and it didn’t feel like it had to become something sexual. Not that he’d have complained if it did.

“I guess I should find my damn underwear, huh?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Or . . . ?”

“Or what, MacCready?”

In a swift, smooth movement, Mac had her beneath him, even impressing himself. He wasn’t exactly the smooth type. Usually he stumbled around things awkwardly, and any other time he might’ve tried a move like that, he’d bet they end up in the floor. But it worked, and that gave him enough confidence that he didn’t worry when he saw Poe biting her lip nervously.

“What is it, Poe?”

He ran a finger along her cheek tenderly, urging her to look back at him when she tried to turn away.

“It’s just . . ,” she sighed. “Look, I want this, I want US, and I really want to be with you. But thinking about it this morning . . . I’m actually glad we didn’t follow through last night. I-“

“I am too.”

She frowned slightly, confused, and he continued.

“I want this, and you, too. But I don’t want the first time we’re together like that to be drunk in a crappy rented room. I . . . look, this isn’t easy, and you’ll probably think I’m lying, or stupid, or something, but . . . I haven’t exactly been with a lot of people. In fact . . . my wife was the only person I’ve ever been with like that. I know, I know, I’m young and hot-blooded, all that bullsh- all that stuff. But I’ve never really been interested in casual things. When I’m with someone, I want to know it’s long term, that we’re serious. And I know we haven’t talked about that, but-“

“I want this. Long term. And I get it. I admit, I did a lot of flirting in my day, and made out, even heavy petting. But I was only ever with one person, a guy who ended up breaking my heart. So, yeah. I want it to be special.”

He smiled down at her, but before he could do or say anything, she rolled her eyes.

“Plus, it’s been, like, over two hundred years since I’ve had sex, so I think I kinda qualify as a virgin again.”

He laughed into her shoulder, letting her wrap her arms around him. After laying like that for just a bit, she cleared her throat.

“Wait. If you didn’t want to have sex, what were you implying?”

“Well . . , “ he whispered, “there are . . . other things I can do. Things I’ve been thinking about since before that night in Sanctuary.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me what they are?”

He pressed his face into her neck, planting soft, sweet kisses along her jaw, then trailing them down across her throat. As he moved lower, his kisses grew hungrier, more insistent. When he nipped at her collarbone, she gasped, and the next thing she knew he’d pushed up her shirt, and his face was buried between her breasts. Light, fluttering kisses mingled with gentle bites and long, languid sweeps of his tongue, and with each one, she felt herself growing wet.

“You’ve got great tits,” he groaned as he pushed between them once more.

“And just think-“ she gasped, arching her back as he sucked the tight bud of her nipple. “Just think about all the things you can do with ‘em.”

His only response was to grind himself against her thigh, letting her feel how hard he’d gotten. Again, wet heat pulsed through her core, and she moaned into his hair. His hands found her hips, squeezing, nudging her upwards, as his mouth trailed lower, lower, and lower. By the time he reached her hips, kissing them reverently, her breath was coming in hard pants and her hips were moving against thin air. She knew what he was doing, what his goal was, and she wanted it as much as he did.

Rough, calloused hands pushed her thighs apart as he settled between them, his lips brushing against her mound softly. She could feel the moist heat of his breath, the trembling of his hands. As if he were embarrassed, he threw the covers over them. Then his fingers traced along her outer lips, spreading them tenderly. As his tongue traced a long line from her opening up to her clit, she moaned, sounding positively obscene in her pleasure, and he licked his lips.

“You taste so good . . . .”

As if she were a drug he couldn’t resist, Mac dove between her legs again. He lapped against her hungrily, lips covering her wet heat, before his tongue delved deeply into her opening. She writhed in ecstasy as he devoured her, both groaning and panting, grinding against whatever they could reach in silent need. Despite how obviously desperate they both were, though, Mac was intent on making it last as long as possible. He wanted to savor the beautiful moments between her thighs, his head swimming with her scent, mouth drowning in her taste. When her hand slid into his hair, cupping the back of his head to bury him deeper, it felt so good that for a moment, he felt he might cum then and there. For a fraction of a second, as he felt himself swell, he panicked, afraid he’d embarrass himself. The next second, he decided he genuinely didn’t care. After all, how many men can say they enjoy eating their girlfriend’s pussy so much that it ACTUALLY makes them cum? So instead, he wrapped his hands around her thighs and doubled his effort, until he felt her body tensing and heard the sound of her whimpering in desperation, calling his name.

“Damn. And I didn’t get invited?”

The sudden voice, gravely and familiar, jolted them both from their state of bliss. Mac jumped from under the blanket, trying his best to not expose Poe as he did, and found himself staring at the mayor of Goodneighbor standing in the doorway. He unfolded his arms, making a dismissive gesture, and shook his head.

“Hey, don’t stop on my account. I’m perfectly happy to wait right here. I’ll even close the door.”

He certainly did . . . with himself on the inside.

“Hancock! What the FUCK?”

“Careful with the language there, MacCready. Thought you were supposed to be cutting that shit out?”

Underneath Mac, Poe laughed, reaching her arm out lazily.

“Hancock! What do we owe your presence to?”

The ghoul gave Poe a half-hearted salute, bringing a cigarette to the ragged remnants of his lips and ignoring a fuming MacCready.

“Nick’s over at the memory den, asked if I could send someone to get you. So, when you guys get, uh . . . finished . . . just head on over.”

“Will do, Hancock. Give Fehr my best.”

“Will do,” he replied, opening the door again. “But, uh, for future reference . . . if you guys are gonna fuck around, you might wanna make sure the door’s locked. And fully closed. Someone less honorable might’ve just hung around and watched.”

With that, he disappeared, the door clicking closed behind him. Poe rolled her eyes at his comment as she threw her arms around Mac’s shoulders, then took his face in her hands to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Sorry, Mac.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. I’m just . . ,” he sighed. “I was REALLY enjoying that.”

“Yeah. Me too.” She stroked the back of his head soothingly. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

He shrugged, still grumpy at the interruption, and rolled to his back. As he laid his hand over his face, he realized it was still covered in the scent of her, taunting him with what they couldn’t finish. With a hoarse groan, he stood up. When he turned to look at Poe, she was crossing the room to get her pants and underwear, her bare ass aimed at him. Then, suddenly, he was behind her, cupping it in his hands, whispering in her ear.

“Now you’re just showing off . . . .”

“Oh please,” she said, swatting playfully at him. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before, mister ‘spy on me when I’m bathing’.”

His heart leapt into his throat.

“You knew I was there?”

“Mm-hmm,” she smiled, pulling on her pants. “Why’d you think I spent so long out there? I kept hoping you’d say something, or come on over. And that’s why it was so easy for me to suggest we ‘help each other out’ later on, too. For a sniper, you’re pretty terrible at being subtle, y’know.”

“Hey, in all fairness, I was pretty stunned. I’ve never seen a goddess in real life.”

With a laugh, she turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

“Can’t believe you think I’m anything like a goddess.”

“You kidding me? You don’t find bodies like this,” he grabbed a handful of her ass, squeezing appreciatively, “in the Wastes. You’re just so FULL.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She batted his hands away, her smile giving away her feelings. “Let’s just get to Nick.”

When they arrived at the Memory Den, Nick was in the middle of an argument with Dr Amari.

“I know it’s risky, but what else are we gonna do? This brain has inside info on the Institute. We BOTH need this.”

“Mr Valentine, are you unaware of the fact that, if I connect you, you may not come out of this AT ALL? We aren’t just talking about a few scrambled brainwaves, this is your entire existence!”

Poe and MacCready shared a glance before Poe asked what was going on.

“Mr Valentine-“

Nick interrupted abruptly.

“The Doc says she can connect this brain device you found on Kellogg to my neural network. Only-“

“Only it may fry your systems! You cannot treat your life so casually, Mr Valentine.”

“Look, Doc, I was already past the expiration date when they put me in this body. Since then, I’ve helped a lot of people. If it’s my time to go, I’d say I’ve had a good run.”

Poe stepped in between the two, looking first at Dr Amari.

“What, exactly, is the problem with Nick being connected?”

“There is a great deal of information here, and the circuits, while compatible, are far newer. The translation process, coupled with decryption, will very probably overload Mr Valentine’s delicate systems.”

“Jeez, doc . . . you make it sound like I’m an antique.”

“With all due respect, you ARE,” Amari replied, looking over Poe’s shoulder. “You weren’t meant to handle such a heavy neural load!”

For a minute, Poe chewed her lip, thinking. They’d been over similar problems in class, a lifetime ago, but she had to remember exactly what the solution had been, and if it had even worked. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh.

“So plug me in.”

The others fell silent, staring at her.

“Look, I can’t plug into the device, I’m not compatible, or I’d do it alone. But Nick is. So connect him to the device, and let him pass the neural load over to me. Connect us.”

Amari opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Before she could speak, Mac stepped up behind Poe, laying a protective hand on her.

“No. Absolutely not. If anybody’s gotta be put in the line of fire, it should be me.”

“Yeah, because you’ve had so much training in systems and engineering.” Poe rolled her eyes. “I can do this. I’ve literally been TRAINED to do this. Even if Nick can’t get through the decryption, I can. So shut up and let me do my thing, Mac.”

He didn’t want to, not without a guarantee things would be fine. But he knew she was right. Instead, he looked at Amari, who shrugged.

“There’s some risk, but it’s far safer than letting Mr Valentine handle the full load.”

Poe looked to him, waiting. Finally, he gave a single nod before grasping her elbows and pulling her close. As he rested his forehead against hers, he let out a quiet sigh.

“Come back safe.”

“Of course,” she grinned, then pulled him down into a dizzying kiss. When he looked up, both Amari and Valentine were staring, mouths agape. His cheeks went bright red.

“Shut up.”

As Poe settled into the lounger beside Nick, she grinned over at him.

“I’m not gonna see you in any compromising positions or anything, am I Nick?”

“Oh, sure. Women line up around the block for a piece of this. Just ignore the sex scenes, kid, and you’ll be fine.”

Grumbling to herself, Amari connected the wires, then began counting down.

“Three . . . two . . . one.”

The last thing Poe saw was a bright white flash.

Chapter Text

When she came to, the world was confusion, all bright lights and mouths moving, but she could hear nothing. MacCready stared down at her while she blinked in confusion as panic rose in his chest. She looked utterly stunned, as if the world around her wasn’t quite real. Then, slowly, Poe came back to herself. She returned the squeeze of his hand, her eyes meeting his, and smiled. Relief washed through him, and he helped her to her feet. Though she seemed a bit unsteady, she was rallying quickly, and Amari confirmed she was in good health. For a few minutes, the two of them talked about what they’d seen, but Mac didn’t really pay attention. He was far too happy to know she was back, and looking forward to whatever came next between them. By the time they left, he knew they had some sort of plan, but he had no idea what the hell it was, and, for the moment, he didn’t care. Whatever it was, he’d deal with it later.

The trip back to Sanctuary was a little difficult for Mac. Not because it was dangerous or stressful, but because he just wanted to be close to Poe as much as he could, and he knew it was a terrible idea. Still, no matter how much he tried to satisfy himself with the knowledge that once they got home they had as much time as they wanted, he remained stubbornly distracted. He’d never noticed before how great her hips looked in her jeans, how she shrugged, pushing her breasts together, when she talked. Everything was suddenly fascinating, every move she made a seduction. All it took was a brush of her chest against his arm, and he was in fantasyland, thinking of the minute they’d have a chance to finish what they’d started earlier.

He probably should’ve considered himself lucky that it started raining outside of Concord, but he couldn’t quite manage it. It definitely took his mind off of the more romantic aspects . . . well, except when he caught a glimpse of his soaked, white t-shirt sticking to her chest. The problem was that he HATED the rain. Every single drop.

“Mac? You okay? You haven’t stopped scowling since we hit Concord.”

“It’s raining.”

He said it like it explained everything. Clearly, from the look on her face, it didn’t. So he sighed heavily and tried again.

“First we get wet. Then we get cold. Our clothes will get all itchy and stuck to us, and even if we find somewhere to wait it out, we’ll take forever to dry. Our skin will be all red and raw. We’ll probably get muddy, too.”

She gave him a crooked smile, then took his hand in hers.

“Our clothes WILL get wet, and cold, and itchy. And we’re so close to home, and already so wet, it’s pretty useless to try and wait it out. Yes, our clothes are going to be muddy, they already are. But I fucking LOVE rain.”

“Yeah, why’s that?”

“Because,” she rolled her eyes, “AFTER the wet, cold, muddy, and itchy, we’ll be home. Home means comfort, and privacy. We get to peel off our itchy, wet clothes, clean up . . . maybe have hot showers, if Sturges got the bath house finished. And then, Mac, we can wrap up together in a thick blanket in bed . . . .”

She trailed off, leaving his imagination to fill in the rest, and boy did it ever. Although he still hated rain, he had to admit, the prospect of getting to those sorts of things afterwards made it seem MUCH more worth it. He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to get up to EVERYTHING he’d been thinking about, not with everyone awake and moving around, but anything would be a good start. A smile tilted the corner of his mouth, just slightly.

“Fine. I guess you win.”

He tried to sound grumpy, but couldn’t quite manage it.

They were halfway up the bridge when they heard shouting, but didn’t understand it until they were past the sign at the entrance. Someone was calling for Preston and Sturges, saying that the General was home. It wasn’t unusual for Preston, at least, to want to greet her, but no one had ever bothered to warn him she was coming ahead of time. Not only that, but Sturges was usually happy to hang back and wait until the next day before he started asking her about projects. Poe and Mac shared a confused glance, then headed towards the bunkhouse.

They were cut off just before reaching it by what looked like the entire settlement, lead by Preston and Sturges. It was still raining, but had slowed to a light drizzle. Although that kept the group from getting too wet, it still seemed strange that the entire settlement would gather, out in the rain, just to greet Poe. Suddenly, Preston stepped forward.

“Welcome back, General.” He grinned broadly. “Sorry to keep you out in the rain, but, well, we’ve got a little surprise for you.”

Poe looked excitedly toward Sturges.

“Did you finish the bath house?”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckled. “But this is somethin’ else. C’mon.”

He strode through the crowd, Poe close behind him. MacCready trailed after her, and Garvey just behind him, the whole group surrounded by eager settlers. Finally, Sturges stopped in front of a house just past her old one, repaired to near perfect condition.

“Well?” The mechanic grinned.

“I don’t understand.”

Preston pushed his way up front, standing beside Sturges.

“You’ve been doing so much work for everyone, from water filtration, to defenses, to rebuilding the Minutemen and taking back the Castle. Yet you’ve never complained, and you’ve never asked for anything for yourself. So we decided that the first house to be fully repaired . . . should belong to you. Welcome home, General.”

From where he stood behind her, Mac watched her shake her head.

“You didn’t have to do this. I could’ve stayed in my room. There has to be families who need it more.”

“Don’t worry about the others,” Sturges drawled. “They’ll get their own places soon enough. But you, you deserve this. Hell, Sanctuary wouldn’t even EXIST without you. So take this, as our way of showin’ how grateful we are.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Okay. Now, everybody get inside!”

MacCready didn’t know if she’d just been telling them to get out of the rain, or if she’d ACTUALLY meant for everyone to pile into the new house, but they flowed in as fast as water. With everyone wanting to show off the work they’d done, thank her, or hug her, he was soon pushed to the back of the crowd. Rather than stand around soaking wet and cold, he headed to their old room, gathered some fresh clothes, and headed to the bath house.

It was nicer than he’d expected, nicer than it had been when they left it for sure. Rather than wide open showers, concrete dividers had been put up, and someone had gone to the trouble of scrounging old bathroom stall doors to add for privacy. Each shower had a hook just outside, and metal benches lined the spaces in between, convenient for keeping fresh clothes from getting soaked.

As he stepped into the stall and turned on the water, he sighed heavily. It wasn’t that he’d deny her the privilege of her own house, or the attention she was getting. Far from it. He was glad to see she was finally getting some appreciation for everything she’d done, and if anyone deserved special treatment it was her. He’d be the first to say that, especially now. And it wasn’t like he thought he’d be stuffed aside in a different house, room, or even bed. It was just that, after what had happened in MedTek, then everything in Goodneighbor, he’d REALLY been looking forward to some time alone with her. Then she’d brought up the idea of them ‘warming up’ together after being in the rain, and his head had been filled with thoughts of kissing and cuddles, hiding under the covers, and plenty of uninterrupted time together.

Now here he was in the shower, alone again.

Although the water wasn’t exactly scorching hot, it was warmer than the rain, and warmer than the soaked clothes he’d tossed on the floor outside of the stall. He made a mental note to talk to Sturges about the temperature, then closed his eyes, letting the water run in slick tracks down his body. As usual, his mind lingered on Poe, on all of the times they’d been close recently. How many times was it now they’d almost slept together? Three? Four? Too many, that was all he knew for sure. He’d seen her naked, he’d touched her, sucked her tits. He’d cum all over her thighs! And he’d tasted her, sweetness pouring over his tongue while she’d made the most gorgeous sounds he’d ever heard.

He licked his lips suddenly at the thought, the memory of her taste settling like sparks along his skin.

For a few moments, he made a half-hearted attempt at washing, running soap over his hair, lathering, rinsing. Then his chest, then his arms. As he spread the lather, he retreated further into his head, dreaming of how he wished the trip home had ended. Presented with the house? Sure, why not? After all, it meant quiet privacy, snd room for anything. But the impromptu gathering, not so much. She could’ve excused them all away, told them she was tired and needed to rest. Not like it would’ve been a lie or anything, not really.

He gave up washing, standing still beneath the water as his mind ran with the idea.

She’d get everyone to leave, escorting them out until it was just the two of them, alone, house quiet. As she closed the door behind them, she’d turn and lean her back against it, rolling her eyes. He could picture it, the exact look she’d give him, full of exasperation, but tempered by that fondness she held for them, and it made him smile in life as much as it did in his fantasy. Even when she was frustrated with people, she cared for them. One of the reasons he was crazy about her.

She’d probably step away from the door slowly, using that slinking, seductive walk she sometimes put on to tease him. Her hands would reach out, planting themselves against his chest, and he’d feel that catch in his throat. His heart would flip, and, like he often did around her, he’d freeze, too engrossed in staring at her, too astounded by the idea that she liked him in the same way he liked her. It still seemed impossible, and he wondered if it always would. But she didn’t care, she never had. She’d probably just laugh a little, wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss him, until instinct kicked in, and he finally, finally kissed her back.

“Showers are ready,” she’d murmur against his lips. “Let’s go warm up.”

Then she’d take his hand, and they’d go. He’d trail behind her like a puppy, or worse, in some ways. There were times he followed her so blindly he’d swear even Dogmeat looked at him funny, wondering what, exactly, he was doing. Hell, he didn’t even know for sure himself sometimes, but he followed just the same.

Inside the bath house, she’d lock the door, winking at him. Privacy, for what she had in mind. His cock would flush with heat, thickening, standing tall for her attention, not unlike it was doing at that moment in real life. He looked down at it, considering his options. The stall was closed, locked. He was alone in the bath house, but even if someone came in, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to stifle his noises. It was possible that, when he was done and got back to the house, Poe would want to follow through with what they’d talked about, and that could prove to be an issue, but, then, she’d never promised sex. Besides, there were plenty of ways he could keep her occupied while he recovered, if it came to it. And he was desperate, almost as desperate as he’d been after seeing her by the stream that day.

He slid his hand down his chest, fingers moving to trace along his length and cup his groin for a moment. If he and Poe had come in together, he’d have stripped her clothes from her as quickly as he could, his mouth locked on hers. They’d have stumbled backwards into the shower, too impatient to wait for it to warm, but it wouldn’t cool their fire, not at all. He’d pin her against the wall, lapping the water from her skin, nipping sharp bites against her throat, only stopping to enjoy the feeling of her hand wrapping around him, like his hand was doing now.

He pumped himself in a few long, slow strokes, savoring the feeling and the way it paired with the vision in his head. He could almost pretend it was her hand on him, stoking the fire in his belly, her face tilted up at him, watching him respond to her touch. Her eyes would be wide and beautiful, sparkling, eager. He’d cup her face, meaning to kiss her, until a sudden pleasure burst forth as she stroked him faster. His eyes would close, a groan ripped viciously from his throat by her onslaught of bliss. And she’d smile, he knew that smile, so soft and just a little devious, as she pulled his forehead to hers, her breath as fast as his, because his pleasure was her pleasure, and hers was his, and he wouldn’t have it be any different.

He leaned against the wall, jerking himself hard and fast, and thanked whatever was out there that no one had come in, because he was moaning far louder than he should be. But, damn, he couldn’t stop, because he was thinking about Poe, and her touch, and how fucking sexy she was, even when she was soaking wet with rain and shivering cold. Maybe especially then, because now he knew that HE would be the one she came to when she wanted to warm up, and HIS arms that dried her off. And one day, hopefully soon, he’d be making her moan, like he was moaning right then, and it would be his cock inside her when she came, his ear that her curses were whispered into.

His orgasm was sudden and intense, so strong he could barely hold himself up. Even when he’d finished, white fluid swirling down the drain, he felt like he could hardly stand. Maybe it was the guilt, washing over him as surely as the shower was. He could’ve waited, he knew. She had. Yet he’d crept into the shower, venting his frustration with something she couldn’t help into milking his cock instead of just talking to her. Didn’t she deserve better? Didn’t he want to DO better?

As he turned the faucets into the off position, he couldn’t help but wonder again if he really deserved her.