Work Text:
Wearily they stepped across Goodneighbor’s threshold and Molly allowed the heavy sack currently slung over her back to drop to the ground. Her muscles were stiff and sore from the road and her companion, and current employer, Rook, looked as worn out as she did. “Well this place is still a shithole I see,” she said and sighed. “I’d rather be at home, with Georgie, and drinking tea on the porch.”
Rook tilted his head and sighed alongside her. “You know, Molly, you really don’t have to pick up that much junk. The we could have travelled a little further back to your homestead if you weren’t carrying so much.”
Molly pouted and stared up at him. In the short time she’d known Rook, the man from the vault had saved her life, given her a job and promised to help chase down those raiders who had become the bane of her life. He had his own issues to deal with, she was mindful of that and she’d made it so she’d scavenged extra just for him, he’d given a lot, of himself, his time, his energy, and she felt she’d given nothing in return. “Boss, I do, I need it. And-- we’re going to get a good price for this.”
He shook his head. “I saw some of that stuff you picked up. It’s not just junk, it’s real garbage, honest to goodness Wasteland trash.”
“The gall,” she said in a mocking tone and tilted her chin up and rubbed her throat with the back of her hand. “Fifty caps, says I’m going to get at least, oh um-- let’s bet on-- six hundred for this.”
Rook snorted back a laugh. “Six hundred? You’ll be lucky to get sixty for that, Molly darlin’.”
She stood back, put a hand on her hip and a smirk on her face. “You know, people often underestimate me and what kind of bargain I can negotiate.”
Rook’s eyes narrowed, a confident smile dressing his tanned features. “I’m sure they do, but that--” He pointed to the sack sitting on the ground, he contemplated the rough woven material again, a strand of his ochre colored hair drifting across his face. “Okay maybe two sixty, no more.”
Molly stuttered a laugh. “You sure about that, Boss? You real sure?”
Rooks confident smile began to wane. “Wait-- what have you got in there that I didn’t see?” His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “Still-- can’t be more than three eighty-- I didn’t see any gold plated flip lighters or jewellery.”
She tapped her nose, picked up the sack, and headed towards the stores, Rook trailing behind her.
He sat on a bench nearby and watched with tired eyes as Molly went into Daisy’s discounts. She began to pull various scraps out, talking to each piece, its basics materials, its possible uses, how much of a bargain it was. Despite Daisy’s initial sceptical appraisals, she paid close to Molly’s asking price for several items.
When Molly finished, her sack was still not empty. She walked out hauling the lighter sack behind her and jangled a pouch of caps in Rook’s direction before heading into Kill or be Killed. KL-E-0 was little harder to bargain with, and it wasn’t as though Molly could sweet talk her, but she gave a fair price for the guns she had. When she left the store and approached Rook, she once again jangled the pouch in front of him.
“How much then?” he said and crossed his arms over his chest.
She waggled her finger and smiled. “I’m not done yet. We need to hit the bar, sunshine.”
They walked into the Third Rail and down the stairs, Ham tipping his finger to his hat. Molly had a skip in her step after the recent transactions; however, Rook still had a doubting look across his face.
Behind the bar, Whitechapel Charlie was polishing glasses. “Charlie, my favorite bartender,” Molly said as they approached.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Wastelands, and my very favorite, garbage collector. Miss Molly, been too long. Where have you been?”
“Here, there, home mostly. Charlie, what’ll you give me for these?” She pulled out several items from the sack. A platter, some beer and two bottles of whiskey.
Rook stood open mouth at the reveal of items from the sack “Is that--” he asked.
“Three eighty huh, Boss?”
Rook grabbed one of the bottles off the bar. “Leopold Brother’s Michigan Cherry Whiskey.” His eyes were shining as they ran over the label. “Colorado whiskey from before the war. I can’t believe-- where did you--”
“I’ve only got enough caps for one of those Molly,” Charlie interrupted.
Molly leaned on the bar. “That’s okay, Charlie I was only planning on selling the one,” she said and turned back to Rook. “The other’s a gift for the, Boss.”
“Molly you can’t--“ Rook said as his eyes continued to wash over the bottle.
“I can and I will,” she replied.
Rook let out an exasperated laugh. “Molly-- what did you make?”
Molly held her hand for Charlie to deposit another pouch in her palm. She smiled and quietly ignored Rook as she counted the final tally of caps. “Seven hundred and twenty three caps,” she said quietly as she leaned into Rook’s ear, not wanting to draw attention to her windfall.
“Plus another fifty from me,” Rook said and his hand delved into the pocket of his jacket.
Molly put up her hand and shook her head. “No, Boss. I just wanted to prove a point. Keep your caps, you’re going to need them.”
“If anyone needs this, it’s you. And the whiskey? You can find someone else to sell it to surely, don’t waste it,” he said.
She placed her chin in her hand and looked him up and down. He was tall, as freckled as she was with that same ginger coloring she had, just a tad darker. His hair was usually swept and tied back and there wasn’t a day went by where he wasn’t wearing that old hat. “Boss, you’d call yourself a cowboy, right?”
He gave her a confused look. “Yeah, I guess I’m that.” He tilted his head and placed a hand on the brim of his hat. “Ma’am.”
“What’s that saying then, don’t look a gift-- what was it-- a gift horse in the mouth? Or something?”
“Yeah, that’s the saying.” He bought the bottle up to his eyeline. “That’s one nice gift, and you look far from horsey to me.”
Molly snorted. “I hope not. Wait do they have two heads?”
He shook his head and ran a finger down the Whiskey bottle again. “Where did you find this? Hardly the kinda moonshine you collect from around here.”
“In that saloon off Boston Common. Just lying there. Keep it, save it for a special occasion. You’ll have them again, I know it. Might not seem like it, but you will.”
He thumbed his ear and looked away from her gaze before turning back. “Thankyou Molly-- that’s mighty generous.” He cleared his throat.
They sat at the bar and ordered whiskey - not the top shelf stuff, but the next best thing. It burned her throat and reminded her that with the bad came the good. And currently she was seated right next to that very good.
Rook ordered another when they’d both drained their glasses. “Molly if you want to go back to your Homestead, we can.”
“I can go by myself just fine, you got stuff to do, plus I’ve been doing it for long enough.” She ran a hand across her face, still weary. “You’ll want another companion though. I can-- stay. If you want, but if you want to head out tonight, I’m kind of beat.”
Rook stared into his glass and sighed. “I want to get on the road again soon. Maybe I can hire someone? Might be easier.”
Molly ran a hand over Rook’s arm. “You okay with that? I know you’re used to spending time in the wilderness, but the Wasteland -- depending on what you're doing, having someone watch your back is good thing, even if you think you know the place. I know, you had my back, and I supposedly--”
“Hey, you’re one of the most competent people out here. And, I like having you around. But you’re beat and I’ve been running you ragged. There’s Georgie too.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Competent, hey? Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn’t be in the mess I’m in if--”
“Hey, that was not your fault.” Rook drained his glass. “You know that promise I made you and Georgie? I’ll be coming back. And besides, I think that daughter of yours might come hunt me down if I don’t.”
Molly laughed. “Knowing Georgie, she just might. Angry seven year olds are worse than feral ghouls.”
Rook let out a chuckle. “Finish our drink first, hey?”
She nodded
After a plate full of crispy squirrel and a beer chaser, they walked into the back room to find the mercenary they were looking for, a man named MacCready, talking with two men. He was wiry, similar in height to Molly, but dirty and the worst teeth she’d seen on someone in a long time. He appeared to be in an argument with the two men, both towered over him, but he was giving as much as he got. They could hear the insults fly.
Molly pulled Rook aside and whispered. “Bad news, those guys-- Gunners.”
“Gunner’s? Who are they?”
“The Gunners are mercenaries, organised, ruthless. Not your average merc though. Not like that guy. Let’s wait till they leave.”
“This is beginning to sound like a bad idea, Molly. Do you think he can be trusted? Maybe I’ll be better off heading back to Diamond City, find Valentine. Or go by myself--”
She grabbed his sleeve. “All the mercenaries who work here are by the grace of Hancock. The Mayor would as soon as stab them if they cheated an honest client. That’s not to say there aren’t a few that haven’t slipped through the net.”
He sniggered. “I remember the first time I came here, so oh boy. The Mayor, you don’t cross the Mayor.”
“An eye opener for sure. Nate and I came here a lot when we were younger. It’s a good town, for the most part. Just watch your back, and if anyone screws you over, they’ll end up dead.”
“And me?”
Molly held a tight smile, as if it was painful. “Yeeeaah you might end up dead too.”
“That’s not reassuring, darlin’”
She laughed and gave him a sorry shrug.
They stood back and watched as the Gunner’s left MacCready’s side. The mercenary picked up a cigarette and was lighting it when Rook and Molly approached.
“MacCready?” Rook asked.
“Look, if you’re preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you’ve got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun-- then maybe we can talk,” he said and shook his match out and dropped it on the ground.
Rook looked to Molly then back to the merc. “Maybe, why don’t you tell me who those guys were first?”
Molly screwed her face up and shook her head. It was Rook’s turn to shrug. She knew people like this guy, they were harsh, lived lives struggling to find food, work, or caps to do the day to day stuff, then when they did get a break, they squandered it all on booze and cigarettes. Business didn’t look good for MacCready, he appeared malnourished and angry.
“A couple of morons looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everyone else on the way up.” A scowl came across his face. “That’s what happens when you run with the Gunners.”
Molly elbowed Rook in the side and it made him flinch but he ignored her.
“So what about you, how do I know you and your Mom here won’t put a bullet in my back?” MacCready said.
She gave him a scowl and was about to tell him where to get off when Rook put out a calming hand. “It’s okay Molly.” He turned back to the mercenary. “Play nice with my friend. You always this suspicious?”
He took another drag on his cigarette. “I’m taking a huge risk being here in the Commonwealth, I don’t like leaving things to chance. So gonna ask you again, you want to hire me, can I trust you?”
Rook glanced at Molly again. “Risk? What sort of risk?”
MacCready dropped his cigarette on the ground and made a cutting motion with his hands. Molly could hear an angry sigh before he spoke. “I’m not telling you anymore, so let’s cut to the chase. Two hundred and fifty caps. Up front, no bargaining. What do you say?”
Molly scoffed loudly from behind Rook. “One fifty,” she said.
The mercenary snorted loudly.
Rook looked from Molly then back to MacCready who was shaking his head. “How about two hundred?” Rook replied.
MacCready pressed his hands together. “Yeah that’s more like it. I like the words coming out of your mouth better than hers.”
“Asshole,” Molly muttered under her breath. Yeah he was just like the mercenaries she’d met before. Caps and caps and caps. That’s all they ever thought about, and for her, she’d trusted too many people like him in the past.
“Hope you’re not bringing your Mom or is she your sister-- with you, sounds like she needs to wash her mouth out with soap,” MacCready said.
“Cleaner than the rest of you probably even when choked with swear words,” she chided.
“Hey, your cowboy brotherson doesn’t look much cleaner than me--”
“Molly, come on.” Rook pulled her gently to the side.
She dragged her heels a scowl reforming on her face. “Rook, the guy is an asshole. Besides, a moment ago you weren’t sure about him. What’s changed in an instant?”
Rook contemplated MacCready for a moment. “Looks alright to me. You know, as soon as he opened his mouth I got a good feeling about him. It’s kind of hard to explain.”
Molly looked over towards where MacCready stood, he was tapping his foot impatiently. “Well, doesn’t look the type to jump you in your sleep, too scrawny.”
“Plus I’m paying him; he stood up to those goons both a good head taller than he is. Gotta count for something right?”
“Hubris and stupidity,” Molly said and folded her arms across her chest. She gave a loud sigh, she knew the Mayor’s word was good, and for all Rook’s inexperience in the Wasteland, he had a sensible head on his shoulders, if this MacCready was trouble, he’d be able to deal with him.
Rook gave her a comforting smile. “Still, he looks to know what he’s doing. I’m gonna be alright. I’m a big boy.”
Molly kicked at her heel. “Yeah I know, I just--”
“I know. Here, give us a hug.” Rook grabbed hold of her and held her tight knocking the breath out of her in the process. It was the kind of comfort she was growing used to, around him anyway. He always had a kind word and a laugh to share. Since Nate had died, there had been very little of that. Molly sensed Rook’s sadness too, and she understood, because she had it to. He kissed her cheek hard, his beard and rough sunburnt skin against her own sun kissed freckles chaffing her and making her squeeze her chin to her neck and laugh.
“You tell Georgie I’ll bring her something good back,” he said.
“Don’t bring her anything,” Molly said in an insistent tone. “She gets enough as is.”
“Hey, we gonna hang here all day playing smooch, or are we gonna hit the road, Boss?” MacCready looked pointedly at Molly when he spoke.
Molly made a face at him and stared back, he turned away first.
“Here, this is loose.” Rook adjusted her armor plate strap that was currently falling down. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” He gave her another quick peck on the cheek.
Molly nodded. “Take care, Rook. And enjoy the whiskey.”
MacCready’s ears pricked up at the mention of whiskey.
“I will.” He waved and left the back room with the mercenary in tow.
“So, you like whiskey?” Molly could hear MacCready say.
Since she’d be staying the night here, she sat down and checked her pack and the loose hessian sack, now almost empty aside from a single bottle of beer and a battered old teapot no one wanted. She shrugged. Another one to add to her growing collection. A splash of pink caught her eye at the top of her chest piece and when she glanced down, she could see that Rook had woven a flower between the worn leather strap and tarnished silver buckle.