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They'd walked none stop back from Med-Tek to Goodneighbor, MacCready clutching his bag close the entire way; the delicate vial secured tightly inside. Grace had barely said a word, keeping her head down and her thoughts to herself. He knew why: she was thinking about Shaun, about all the things she still had to do to get to him. That, and she'd taken a door to the face which had swollen instantly – talking was probably painful for her.
He didn't push conversation.
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She let him walk him in front, a new bounce to his step that she'd never seen before. She'd almost cried when they'd found the vile, MacCready smiling wider than she'd ever seen before. If there was nothing she could do for Shaun, she could at least help another parent save their child.
At least that's what she told herself.
She could be doing so much more to get to him. Her bottom lip trembled and the aching pain in her jaw bloomed up her face. She turned her thoughts elsewhere, not wanting to cause herself any more pain; physically or emotionally.
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When they reached Daisy, MacCready filled her in with what had happened while Grace tended to her swollen face, and reluctantly handed over the vile. He knew Duncan needed it more than anything, but after waiting and trying for so long to get hold of it, he just wanted to keep it for a little longer – make sure it was real. When he finally pulled his fingers from the glass, Grace placed a delicate hand on his shoulder.
"Are you going to go with it?" she whispered into his ear as Daisy wrapped the vial in layers of fabric and string.
He shook his head slowly.
"If you're worrying about me, don’t, I've got plenty of people to watch my back while you're gone. I could ask Cait to come with me, she's itching to get out again. It won't be the same but it'll do."
"I don't think I can," he whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke. Grace said nothing, but laced her arm around his waist, squeezing him closer to her so she could rest her head on his arm. They both watched is silence as Daisy flitted about, making notes and preparing everything for the caravan that would take Duncan his lifeline.
She seemed to spend an age preparing the everything, her movements seeming particularly slow to MacCready whose nerves were buzzing with anticipation.
When she finally returned to the desk MacCready couldn't tear his eyes away from the swaddle of blankets and her cheery "all set," fell on deaf ears, a thousand thoughts whirling through his mind. Maybe he should go? The very thought made him feel sick but he knew Duncan needed him. He pulled gently away from Grace and abruptly turned, heading out of sight of the two woman, scared he was about to break down.
Once alone, he let out a shaky breath, tears pricking the backs of his eyes.
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Daisy and Grace watched him walk away, both of them silently thinking the same; let him go.
"Hey do me a favour?" Daisy finally rasped.
"Yeah?"
"Take care of MacCready for me," she glanced in the direction he'd gone - although neither of them could see him now – as if to make sure he wouldn't overhear, "he's one of the good ones."
Grace turned back to Daisy smiling, "of course I will," she replied, although she needed no prompting. She had MacCready's back no matter what, barely able to imagine a time when she didn’t know him. A time when she'd have been unable to even imagine the string of events that lead to her meeting him. She waved at Daisy as she made her way to MacCready, eager to pull her mind from the past. She knew exactly what they both needed right now.
"Third Rail?" she called out once he was in sight, linking their arms when she reached him. The grin and the tug of her arm were the only answer she needed and they made their way, arm-in-arm, to the bar.
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"Seriously I don’t know why I ever gave you your caps back, I say I deserve them, and double on top, just for putting up with your shiii – your... just you!" MacCready announced in jest in response to her teasing him relentlessly about not being able to work the terminals in Med-Tek. They were both sat on the ratty couch in the VIP area of the Third Rail; empty beer bottles surrounding them, MacCready slumped against one corner of the couch, one arm slung lazily over the back of the seat, the other in his lap clutching his beer, while Grace sat cross legged at the other end, back leant against the armrest.
"Aww that's not fair, you have to knock some off for the fact that you need me to work any -"
"Do not say terminals..."
"Term-"
"No," he lunged forward to cover her mouth with his hand, sloshing a glug of luke-warm beer on his shirt as he did. "Enough, we get it, I'm not smart enough to work computers! You can stop bringing it up every chance you get!" Her eyebrows raised and she mumbled something against his hand that sounded suspiciously like "but you're SO bad" but he kept it there, pressing harder against her until she started to fall backwards.
"Muummmk!" His mumbled name was followed by a lick of his palm, which he swiftly wiped down her face, reducing them both to a fit of drunken laughter.
He hadn’t realised there had ever been a tension between the two of them, he trusted Grace with his life and they joked together constantly, but something was different now. If it was possible, they were even more at ease with each other; the heavy weight of worry over Duncan finally lifted from his shoulders, he was finally able to completely relax. As they began to calm, Whitechapel Charlie drifted into the room, another two bottles of beer and two glasses of clear liquid is his grasp.
"Not everyone gets this special treatment, so count yourselves real bloody lucky," he drawled, gracelessly setting the glasses on the table.
"Oh please, we put half the caps behind that bar, the least you can do is occasionally hover back here and chuck our drinks on the table," her words were harsh but her tone was playful and Charlie had no reply, simply returning to his position behind the bar, mumbling under his breath the entire way. "Yeah that's what I thought," Grace called quietly after him, puffing out her chest and shrugging her shoulders in a mock invitation for the bot to start a fight, before crumpling in another fit of giggles.
"You shouldn't wind him up so much, he gets us a lot of business," Mac chided, reaching out for another beer.
"He loves me really, it's just our thing, pretending to hate it other, there's nothing but love and admiration there really." She gestured wildly before grabbing another beer as well. "Right I have a game. Truth or Dare." She settled back in her corner of the couch before continuing. "We take it in turns to choose whether we want the other person to ask us a question we have to answer completely truthfully, or pick a dare for us to do. And if you don't want to do whatever you picked when you heard it, you have to forfeit and take off a piece of clothing."
MacCready stared at her for a moment slowly sipping his beer while he considered the prospect. "Is this what you pre-war lot used to do for fun?"
"Mmhmm, you in?"
Her gleeful expression swayed him and he nodded.
"I'll go first, ermm ask me a truth." She set her drink back on the table and wiggled into the lumpy cushion, preparing herself for the question. MacCready paused, running through all the things he wanted to know about the strange woman sat before him. The list was endless but this was meant to fun, he didn’t want to ask her about her life before the war, her husband or her son, equally he didn't want to bring up why she was stalling trying to find any information about the missing boy.
"Jeez Mac, you can literally ask me anything, what’s taking so long?"
"What did you think of me the first time we met?" The words rushed from his mouth before he could stop them.
Grace laughed, a beautiful melodic laugh that MacCready was only now – in his drunken haze - taking notice of. "The first time I saw you, you were mouthing off to Winlock and Barnes and I thought you were a bratty manchild who thought he looked big and tough for going up against two other men." MacCready flushed pink but she carried on before he could say anything, "but then you actually dealt with them without having to knife them in the fucking stomach and I thought you could actually help me out, and honestly, I was so confused and desperate for help that I could have kissed you when you said you'd follow me round..."
"Very cute boss."
"You didn't let me finish! But know I actually know you, I realise I was right the first time and you are a bratty manchild who thinks he's big and clever for antagonizing people who are bigger than him and then running away before they can do anything," she grinned at him, her white teeth stark against her flushed lips, and MacCready could only grin back.
As she lifted her bottle he clinked his own against it, "well I suppose I can’t argue with that boss," he laughed, taking a long swig of his own drink. "I choose a dare."
He regretted it immediately when he saw Grace's eyes light up.
"I dare you to go into Hancock's office and lick from one end of his desk to the other."
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She'd deliberately tried to choose something he wouldn't do and she knew as his mouth dropped open slightly that she'd chosen well.
"No. No way is that happening boss."
She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. "Aww come on, first dare and you're forfeiting already?" She wasn't entirely sure why her plan was to get him out of his clothes, she tried to convince herself that it was just a joke, to wind him up a bit more, but she wasn't all that sure.
"I don't know what's gone on on that desk, and DON'T even think about telling me!" He pointed his bottle at her in warning and laughed.
Grace paused for a second and watched him. He looked so relaxed, free from burden; it suited him. "Fine, but you forfeit the first thing and you have to take off a half of your clothes, top or bottom. I suggest your top seeing as it's already wet." She'd said it before she could hold the words back and she froze, hesitant as to what his response would be.
"You're just making these rules up as you go along!" His smile still plastered across his face so she decided to roll with it.
"Nu-ur. So you can either lick Hancock's desk or take your top off?"
"You trying to get me naked boss?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Grace drank back the clear liquid – vodka – and smirked at him. "Maybe..."
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MacCready's heart seemed to skip a beat at her sultry word. He took a sip of his drink, contemplating what to do. Grace meant everything to him, the only person in a long time that he trusted, admired and enjoyed being around. She understood him and didn’t ask anything from him, and she was gorgeous; long hair that curled just past her shoulders, tanned skin that failed to marr even with the harshness of the Commonwealth, and curves that were hugged perfectly by her vaultsuit. He also knew that Grace wasn't one for sticking around once she slept with someone, and that wasn't something he could risk.
As if controlled by something outside his body he took his hat and dropped it onto her head. He pulled his duster from his shoulders and placed his scarf around her neck, his fingers brushing lightly across her skin as he did. He yanked his shirt up over his head and discarded it on the floor, then slumped back into the chair, his out-of-body confidence suddenly disappearing now that his torso was exposed. He rested his hands between his legs and played nervously with his beer bottle, peeling at the label.
"You know that's a sign of sexual frustration right?" Grace commented gesturing to the scraps of torn paper that littered his lap, her gaze lingering on his torso; skinny yet toned from years of struggle and hard work. He tried to hold back a smug smile and bathed in the satisfied feeling of having Grace unable to look away. He was enjoying it, even if he could never admit it to himself, and was washed in another wave of confidence. He leant back against the arm of the couch, mimicking Grace's positioning and stretched a leg towards her.
"Why are you making things up again?" he asked.
"I'm not, I'm not... I swear!" she laughed, taking another swig of her beer and resting her hand on his knee. "Riiight, give me a... dare." Her words were slurring slightly now. MacCready thought for a moment, trying to conjure up something he knew she'd have to forfeit.
After a few seconds a wave of inspiration hit. "You have to steal a bottle of Charlie's finest from behind the bar." He took a victorious swig of his beer, proud of his ingenuity.
"Are you joking? Are you trying to get us banned for life?"
"Hey, if you don't want to do it you can always forfeit a piece of clothing. So what's it going to be? Stealing a bottle that we'll pay for tomorrow, or handing over your vaultsuit?"
MacCready leant back, clasping his arms behind his head. Grace may have started this game, but he was going to finish it. She glanced into the crowded bar and MacCready could practically see her trying to figure a way to get behind the bar.
"You're evil," she concluded.
"I hope you're wearing underwear today," he joked, earning himself a dirty look from her.
"Don’t be silly. Not that it matters, because I never forfeit a dare." She shot out of her seat and headed confidently towards the bar, flinging his hat back towards him as she went.
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Grace took a deep breath, regretting ever suggesting this game. She hovered in the background of the main room, the world spinning slightly and the voices churning into a low hum as she waited for someone to overwhelm Charlie with an order. She took the time to try and make as much sense as she could of her relationship with MacCready. She was pretty clear that they both trusted each other with their lives, but now she was dipping her toes over the boundaries of 'just friendship' –she couldn't help herself- and more confusingly, he was dipping his right back.
She didn't have much time to dwell on it however, as a group of men even drunker than herself shambled to the bar and began shouting drink orders at Charlie.
She crept around the side of the room as inconspicuously as she could - whilst still having to use the wall to support herself - and waited for Charlie to start shouting at the men before quickly leaning over the bar and grabbing a full bottle of whiskey. She smiled to herself triumphantly before pushing herself back and trying to walk as discreetly as possible back to the VIP room. She paused for a moment, chugging a few gulps of whiskey before returning to the mess she'd created with MacCready.
He was just as she'd left him; slumped in the corner, beer bottle clutched tightly in his grasp. He turned to look at her as she approached the sofa, his eyes widening as she held to bottle up to light and he jumped off the sofa.
"No way!" He lunged for the bottle but Grace tore it away from his reach and took another swig. "How did you manage that?"
She answered with a dramatic bow, which left her stumbling forward towards the floor, only to be caught last second by MacCready.
"Jeez, take it easy," he said softly, pulling her back upright, their faces now only a few inches apart. Her heart pounded violently against her chest and her stomach churned with nerves.
"Did you really think I wouldn't do it?"
His eyes locked on hers, "I was kinda hoping you were gunna forfeit actually..." His hand moved from supporting her elbow to rest on her hip, his fingers tracing delicate patterns, and Grace smiled, warmth radiating through her, his fingers sending pleasant tingles across her skin.
She brought the bottle to MacCready's mouth a tipped a generous serving down his throat before taking another large swig for herself. She swallowed the burning liquid, embracing the sting as it traveled to her stomach, and leant down to the table, placing the bottle down as carefully as she could before shooting back up to meet MacCready's gaze.
Bad move.
Her stomach churned in the worst way possible, and bile pushed at the back of her throat. She launched herself away from MacCready and sprinted - with more precision that she had done all evening – straight into the toilets, where she collapsed clutching the toilet bowl.
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MacCready stood for a moment in silence, watching the empty space where Grace had sprinted off before he burst out laughing; the ridiculousness of the situation finally hitting him. He composed himself, redressed, and went to find Grace.
It didn’t take long for him to find her; propped over a dirty toilet bowl, head resting against her forearm, asleep.
"Boss?" he said gently.
She stirred slightly before covering her eyes with her arm.
"Boss!"
"Mmmm."
"You're going to regret letting yourself get so close to that toilet in the morning."
"Mmhmm" she replied, finally opening her eyes.
"You finished throwing up?"
She nodded feebly and pushed herself on shaky arms away from the toilet bowl.
"Ready to go back to the Rexford?"
"Please."
He scooped her up bridal style, trying to keep her as still as possible as he made his way back to the hotel. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him. As they approached their room he hoisted her up to a more secure grip and she dry heaved quietly.
"Maybe that last drink was a bad idea?"
"Mmm, and the few... the few before that," she drawled, the words seemily too much effort for her mouth to form.
He laughed and kicked open the to the room they'd rented where he placed her as carefully as he could onto the bed. She cuddled into the blankets immediately, grasping the dingy fabric between her fists. He stripped himself down to his underwear and lay down next to her – they'd long since stopped needing one of them to sleep on the floor – yanking some of the blankets from her grasp to cover himself. Just as he relaxed, he felt Grace shift next to him.
"Mmmac?" she mumbled, her face still buried in the pillow.
"Yeah boss?"
"You should go and get Duncan."
He turned to look at her, to gauge the real reason behind her words; maybe she wanted him gone after the awkwardness of the night? But her mouth was turned up slightly at the corners and when he moved his hand closer to hers, she interlocked their fingers and gripped it tightly.
"Mmmac?"
"Yeah boss?" he asked, a coy smile playing at his own lips.
"The bed's spinning."
"Just go to sleep, I got you."
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