Chapter Text
Catherine Smith had learnt in the Vault that being nice doesn’t get you anything. She tried to be nice to Butch when she was ten; she got punched in the face and the nickname Nosebleed.
She learnt when she got out of the vault that if you don’t have the money to get what you want, you better have the gun to get what you want, or you’ll have to spread your legs.
She saw Nova and refused to let that be her. So she shot Silver.
And she watched with rapt interest as a man, most likely the same age as her father, strode in. Clean suit, tinted glasses and a hat tipped to complement a smirk. When he turned to sit down she saw a silenced 10mm at his side, holstered under his jacket.
She sipped her whiskey slowly, watching him out the corner of her eye. He looked… bored. Waiting even.
Then he looked up, saw her and grinned.
She lowered her glass, watching as he stepped over with no intent to rush, though he seemed almost elated at seeing her. Maybe he knew her father? Though probably not. Her dad wasn’t glad when he found his precious baby girl on Butch’s lap with half a bottle of scotch. This man was… Different to anyone she’d ever think her dad to know.
He stopped next to her, hand on the bar and capturing her hand, brushing dry lips to the back. “My dear girl, you are a beautiful sight.” She raises an eyebrow. Surely he’s hallucinating. She’s dressed in bloodied jeans tucked into boots and a brown jacket. Even her champagne hair is messed from the wave she lets sit over her right cheek.
But his eyes burning into hers makes her blush and dip her head, tucking hair already behind her ear. “You flatter me. I’m hardly dressed to be called ‘beautiful’.” He chuckles and she looks up at him, blushing even more when his thumb caresses the back of her hand.
“My dear, you’re perfect.” She notices his eyes flick to Gob, standing by them and cleaning a glass. Catherine pouts when the stranger plucks her glass from the bar and tugs on her hand. “Come, let us speak in private.” He gestures over to the table and chairs he had sat at before seeing her.
She bites her lip and nods, missing how his eyes darken, focused on her mouth while she stands. His hand is gentle, holding it even as she sits down and he kisses her palm before returning her glass and taking his seat. She chews her lip as he orders over some more whiskey for them.
“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Mister…?”
“Burke. Mister Burke.” He smiles as he tops up their glasses. “I am most impolite for not offering my name earlier. Do forgive such…” He lifts the glass to the level of his mouth and smirks. “Transgressions.” He sips the liquor and seems to savour it before returning the glass to the table. “And yours? Surely it must be as sweet as you?”
Catherine nearly laughs but covers her mouth, smiling and she knows he can see it, from his widening smirk. This man is out for something and she won’t let him use her for it. Lowering her hand, she caresses down the thigh of the leg she drapes over the other, ego flaring as his eyes intently watch her thumb curve along her jean seam.
“Well, Mister Burke, my name is Catherine.” she leans over on one arm, tilting her upper body towards him, revelling in his eyes unable to stay focused on hers. “But you may call me Cath.” She tilts her head, revealing her neck and letting her hair fall from her cheek, letting him see her full face and sweet smile.
He swallows, seeming almost speechless before chuckling. “Your name is as divine as you. And surely it must be divine providence that you are here.” She straightens up, sipping her whiskey as she watches him watch her. “You see, I had all but given up hope to meet someone who isn’t a resident of this putrescent cesspool.” Burke smirks as she grins at his description of the town. “And that makes you particularly valuable.” He purrs out the last sentence and she lets her fingers brush his on the table.
“Oh? Do go on, Mister Burke.” She lets his name fall on a light breath, chewing her lip as she rests her hand on a palm, lowering her lids as she looks him over. If the light were better, she might say she saw him flush but surely it’s the whiskey coming to her head quickly.
“I am beyond pleased to find you are so very civil.” He glances at Nova watching them, Gob cleaning the bar and trying to hide his glances over. “Unlike most others I’ve met.”
Catherine meets Nova’s eyes, making the whore look away to the door. “Respect, and respect for privacy, is hard to find. Even in what would be perceived as a secure location.” He wants something, and she’ll find out what it is. She shifts to fully face him, making him look at her face and not her leg. “Please, continue.” She licks her lips of the whiskey, setting down her glass. “I find myself… enthralled.”
He seems to harden, and not in the way she wants him to, at that. He adopts an air of business that almost shocks her. “I represent certain… interests. And those interests view this town, this Megaton,-” he nearly spits the name, frowning as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “-as a blight on a burgeoning urban landscape.”
Catherine nods, tapping her finger against her cheek as he settles back in his chair, watching the townsfolk walk in. Night is settling in, and the bar is getting crowded. “You have no connections here.” He gestures almost lazily. “No interest in this cesspool’s affairs, or fate.” He smiles and sits forward, almost excited. “You could assist us in erasing this little… accident off the map.”
He watches her, carefully as she considers, fingers steeped in front of her and chin resting on her thumbs. She watches the patrons carefully, watches as they slur and belch and laugh loud enough to make her wince. She purses her lips before meeting Burke’s eyes. “Go on. I’m listening.”
Burke smiles and she finds herself thinking that it’s the kind of smile you see only before someone dies. And if what he wants is true, it’s likely someone will. “The undetonated bomb for which this town is named is still very much alive. All it needs is a little…” He chuckles, sipping the last of his whiskey before setting his glass down next to hers. “Motivation.” His eyes are dark as they meet hers and she bites her lip to keep down a smirk.
He wants this town of wastelanders who barely know the blade of a knife from the handle, who have thus far left her more impressed by Butch’s manners, blown up? She gestures for him to continue.
He sits forward, frowning as a drunkard stumbles backwards to their table, laughing at his friend’s shove before returning to the fray. “I have in my possession a Fusion Pulse Charge constructed for a singular purpose – the detonation of that bomb.” He looks at the door pointedly before back to Catherine.
“You’ll rig it to the bomb. Then you’ll get paid. Handsomely.” He settles back in his chair, clearly conducting business and the former Vault-resident finds herself disappointed his purring tones are gone. “What do you say?”
Catherine chews her lip, looking at the people then at Burke, who still watches her carefully. She smiles, standing and stopping with her hip cocked, fingers caressing his glass. “I have a proposition of my own, Mister Burke.” Her fingers move to his hand, barely touching as she teases his wrist and the cuff of his suit. “Would you like to hear it?”
He swallows at her purr, eyes stuck between her face and her fingers and barely manages a nod. His hands are dry, but warm and uncalloused, and she finds that she rather enjoys the sensation as she links her fingers with his. His mouth opens to start a question, or something that surely wasn’t meant to be that heavy exhale when she settled onto his lap. Her knees are snug between his and the chair, one hand coming up to his neck to toy with his short hair and the other bringing his hand to her thigh.
Catherine licks her lips when Burke stares up at her, swallowing and releasing another hot breath when she lets her ass settle on his knees. “Burke, you silly man.” She smooths down his coat, smiling as his other hand settles on her thigh and leans down to ghost her lips along his jaw.
She almost is delighted at the shuddering breath from his chest, Adam’s apple moving quickly as he swallows again, and the whispers from behind her. “You’ll pay me five hundred extra caps…” Her hand slips under Burke’s jacket, across his abdomen and to his side. She can feel his thighs tense between hers; his muscles twitch and his neck relax against her hand when she does kiss his jaw. “And like it.”
He jumps, growling low in his chest as he feels the barrel of his pistol is pressed against the soft flesh under his chin.
They watch each other, his head turned enough to see her eyes and she smirks when she shifts forward and hears a soft grunt reach her ear. “F-five hundred you say?” He swallows, breathing heavier when she eases off the gun and shifts even more forward. “Well… um…” She scoots even further, chest flush to his. “Yes. Yes, I think that can be arranged.”
He doesn’t stop his heavier breaths or near-trembling when his gun is return to its holster. She smiles and sits back on his lap, plucking his pre-war hat from his head to place it on her own. Catherine giggles when his scruffy widow’s peak is revealed. “Excellent.”
She twists off his lap, smiling and linking her fingers with his again to pull him to his feet. “Why don’t we take this… elsewhere?” Burke looks around the bar, more than one pair of eyes on them and nods, leading her out of the bar and begins down the stairs to his rented home.
Catherine stops him, pulling both of them into a corner and while he is taller than her, he is amicable to her wants as she presses him in and steps close.
The young woman runs her hands up and down his jacket, redoing the buttons she had undone before. She shivers when his hands run up and down her sides, thumbs settling under the fabric of her jacket and shirt. Her light pant of delight at his skin on hers is real, and Catherine finds with some almost displeasure that she wants more.
She’s never the one left wanting. She is the one who leaves them panting and breathless. She steps with one leg between his, pressing against his crotch and grins against Burke’s throat at the whine, nipping when he tries to turn them.
“I must admit. I find you… enchanting.” He purrs out the word, sighing when she kisses along his jaw to his ear, slowly bouncing on her toes to let her thigh and chest move against him.
His hands are tight on her hips, as he presses against her, pulling her to him even as he moves back to see her eyes below his hat. Catherine is delighted to find it takes him some moments to compose himself and gather his thoughts. What she doesn’t expect is the hand that comes up to caress her cheek.
“Do this for me, and there’s no telling how far my gratitude will reach.” He gestures to the bomb, hand leaving her cheek and Catherine glances to the direction before watching carefully as he withdraws a complicated panel with glowing tubes and wires.
Burke steps forward, urging Catherine to take it and she does, holding it close to her chest and his hat to her head when he reaches for it, smiling at his chuckle. “Take the Fusion Pulse Charge. Place it into the bomb. Then meet me at Tenpenny Tower.” He hands her a map, hands moving to her hips after she accepts it.
He leans down to brush his nose along her cheekbone, growling against her skin as he pulls her hard to him. “There I will show you what true power is.”
Burke kisses Catherine then, groaning into her mouth and nearly drowning out her own pleased noise. She’s so soft against him and he’s so hard against her that Catherine whines when his tongue glances across her lips.
She doesn't want to seem eager, doesn't want to seem wanting but Burke is hard against her belly and panting through his nose. She opens her lips, moaning with him as their tongues meet and rub together. His hands have move down her back, pressing her even tight against his hips and letting him feel the beginning swell of her ass.
A loud metal clang makes them jump apart, flushed as they glare at the patrons of the bar spilling out onto the streets and Catherine sighs just as Burke clears his throat.
“Please, have a good evening.” He kisses her hand and she smiles, turning her hand to lift his chin with a finger.
“Darling Burke, true power is leaving with everything you had when you entered. And more.” She tips his hat to him, bouncing along the crumbling metal.
If she wasn't listening closely, she’d have missed his “Little minx.”
Oh yes. Catherine could get to like Burke. At the least, she already likes him more than the residents of Megaton.