Work Text:
Hancock heard a groan from his partner. Concerned, he whipped around to see if she’d been hurt.
They were on their way to the Pickman Gallery, Hancock finally following up on some concerning rumors. He needed to get out of the state house and get his hands dirty; stop living so comfortably.
Reconnecting with his inner low-life. Playing in the mud and blood. Sharpen his killer instinct.
These were the reasons he told himself, and her, when she suggested they go together. He had planned on just paying her to check it out…
But could he pass up the opportunity to see her in action? The enigma that had been lingering in his town, distracting him from his mayoral duties. If only in his mind.
He was constantly reminiscing on their conversations. They were usually brief; a whimsical story here, some flirtatious jokes there. The sound of her voice a gentle melody, the drawl of her accent reminding him of lazy guitars and campfire song. Hoping she hadn’t noticed his lingering looks.
Imagining catching her eyes drifting across his form.
But clearly she was out of his league. Drop dead gorgeous, even deadlier aim, tongue sharper than a knife. Even with all the power behind his title, the bravado of his public image, he could never hold a candle to her brilliant shine.
Sunshine, he’d called her once. Completely by accident too - he was about to take it back when he could have sworn her cheeks reddened a bit.
Probably just her drink at work.
Shaking away the thought, it didn’t take long to spot her. He chuckled as she grumbled further, kicking a rock with unbridled annoyance.
“Whatcha got, sister?”
He felt a little lightheaded as her gaze lifted to his. “Gonna rain soon.”
Hancock looked around. The sky was perfectly clear, not even a breeze. “Yeah… what makes you say that?”
Concern clawed at him as he watched her lightly limp his way. “My stump’s getting achy. We should get somewhere with a solid roof. It’s likely going to be a doozy.”
He could tell from a glance she knew he didn’t believe her. She boldly took his arm, leaning a bit as she struggled along. “Whatever you say.” He mumbled, not complaining about the sudden closeness.
He could easily lift her, carry her in his arms to safety. Knowing her penchant for violent vitriol, especially when drifters got handsy with her in the Third Rail, he opted to simply guide her to a nearby diner.
Sure enough, just as they finished sweeping the premises, the wind picked up and the soft splatter of raindrops on the metal roof confirmed her suspicions.
She should feel vindicated. Instead, she was feeling a bit sour.
Hancock hadn’t even reacted when she grabbed his arm. She shouldn’t be so surprised; the mayor was well known for his detached lifestyle. Floating from chem to chem, and lover to lover. Drifters and regulars alike propositioned him daily. He had his choice of anyone.
But for some reason, he didn’t seem to notice her. Sure, he flirted, she’d caught him looking more than once. But it clearly meant nothing to him. He never crossed the line into… something more. The something she craved.
Always cut short, always a gentleman at the end of the night. Leaving her to her thoughts. Leaving her wanting.
Needing to keep her hands and mind occupied, she detached her metal leg to do a tune up. Absentmindedly she rubbed her thigh, sore from the change in barometric pressure. It would let up soon, the front already moving through meant relief was in sight.
Her PipBoy crackled with the lightning. Sure enough, the air had a sting to it. She dug around in her pack, popping a couple Rad-X as she got back to work.
She didn’t notice he had joined her on the ground until she heard him messing with the radio.
“Don’t like the quiet?” She asked.
“‘S much as I like hearing myself talk, I don’t really enjoy being left to my thoughts.”
She chuckled. “I can relate. Couldn’t even sit here without needing to do something.”
The announcer finished stuttering out the news, before a soft tune floated out the worn speaker.
She smiled as she bobbed her head. It was familiar to her, but not the voice she was expecting.
“Didn’t know Bing Crosby sang this.” She said softly, listening to the lyrics.
He hummed along as he rose to his feet. “One of my favorites.” Then, unexpectedly, offering her a hand.
She looked up at him, unsure what he meant by that outstretched hand. Clicking her leg back into place, she took his offering. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”
His grin was wide, a soft laugh rumbled in his chest. Their height difference made things a little awkward, her short frame forcing her to reach a bit further than another partner would need. His hand a little higher on her back than she’d like.
At least he was finally in her arms. Away from prying eyes, away from the competition.
And night after night,
As strange as it seems
The sound of her laughter
Will sing in your dreams.
Not strange at all. He thought to himself. She already did, the handful of giggles and laughs echoed in his mind as he lay awake thinking of her. Tucked away in his heart, reserved for the nights the loneliness for her ached in his chest.
Who can explain it?
Who can tell you why?
Fools give you reasons,
Wise men never try.
Perhaps she was a fool, falling for someone so out of her reach. Making up excuses to herself, reasons he could have to keep her at arms length. Was it the scars? Or the leg? Or, perhaps the worst, he simply didn’t like her?
Some enchanted evening
When you find your true love,
When you feel her call you
Across a crowded room
He must have imagined the clench of her fist in his coat. Timed too perfectly to the lyrics. He looked out the broken windows, at their hands where they were joined. Anyare but her face, lest his own betray him.
Then fly to her side,
And make her your own
He wouldn’t even look at her. Doing this charade to distract her from her pain, maybe. A friendly gesture, a platonic kindness. All while she wished he would forgo the distance and pull her up to him.
For all through your life you
May dream all alone.
He grit his teeth. He so badly wanted to scoop her up in his arms, tell her how many sleepless nights he had dreamed of her, imagined holding her. Dancing with her had been a mistake, he should never have been so bold, she-
His breath was caught in his throat when he chanced a glance at her.
How her brows bunched tight, biting down on her lower lip. Desire burning in her eyes, no mistaking that.
Once you have found her,
Never let her go.
Despite the way he seemed pained, his look softened as he looked at her. Something akin to hope fluttered in her stomach as her hand on his shoulder raised to the nape of his neck. As his hand on her waist did so in kind, gently smoothing her hair from her face.
Once you have found her,
Never let her go!
Her breath warm on his face. So close he could smell the floral soap and gunpowder that lingered around her. A flash of lightning illuminated her perfect face, the rolling thunder concealing the moan he couldn’t suppress any longer. All the rads around them buzzing through him, setting him on edge and nearly driving him feral.
The tension between them snapped.
She leaned in, closing her eyes.
And he met her halfway.