#{ he's just going to casually ignore the amazing muscular photos of red on that magazine }

[touyatiredforthis]

"Modeling, huh? I feel like they'd sooner make it a mugshot f'me."

[antiquechampagne]

Antique Champagne - Ch42 - Pack Your Bags

Hancock was as good as on his word. He tried drinking again the next night, but this time with a half a Mentat. To his delight, he kept it down the whole night. By the end of the week, he had worked up to a whole tablet, well on his way to working his tolerance back up to pre-assassination attempt levels.

Everyone settled back into their daily routines, even with the mystery still hanging in the air. One afternoon while eating her breakfast at the bar, a familiar face sat down on the bar stool next to her. Kent smiled at her as he ordered a sandwich for himself.

“Glad you could make it!” Payne really meant it. With all that had happened lately, they hadn’t had much time to meet up. After chatting for a while, Payne started to notice something odd about Kent. The edges of his mouth kept curling when she started to talk, especially if the subject turned to her employer.

“Okay, Kent, what is it?”

“Huh?”

She playfully pointed a finger at him. “Come on. Are you trying to hide something?”

Kent shrugged shyly. “I’m just happy to see you.” Payne gave him a side-eyed glance as she bit into her lunch. “Really…”

“I don’t believe you. You’re a terrible liar.”

Charley had been slowly getting closer to the pair while cleaning a chipped glass with two of his three mechanical arms. Out of the corner of her eye, Payne noticed the bartender try to hush Kent with his free claw.

She turned; her finger now aimed at the robot. “Now you, too? You’re in on this?! Spill it!”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, love. Nothing to see here.” Charley whirred back around, floating back down to the other end of the bar.

Kent looked even more guilty, his hand sheepishly covering his mouth. “Really, it’s nothing. Nothing bad, anyway… but I can’t say anything more about it. “

Try as she could, Payne couldn’t get any more out of Kent on the subject. She had to give him credit, he was a lot tougher a target than she had given him credit for. Defeated, and done with her meal, she wandered up into the State House. With every step, the mystery ate at her.

Entering Hancock’s office, she barely noticed Fahrenheit as she left, grumbling under her breath.

“And there she is! How is my little dream girl doing today?” He seemed awfully chipper, given how Fahr stormed out.

“Don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary.” She crossed her arms and smiled. “What did you get up to while I was sleeping?”

He gave a very unimpressive “Nothing. Scouts honor.” Hancock stifled a chuckle when Payne’s eyebrow popped up, unconvinced. “Seriously!”

“First Kent, then Chuck… and now you! What is with everyone today?” Payne was trying not to let her frustration show, but this whole morning was starting to get on her nerves.

Hancock shrugged and started half-heartedly flipping through a paper. He tried to hide it, but his half-cocked smile refused to leave his face. Payne ignore it for as long as she could, but eventually gave in to her baser urges.

“Spill it! You are driving me insane! Just tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“Oh, but it’ll ruin the surprise!” Payne launched stained pillow at his head. “FINE!” he put his hands up in surrender. “Honestly, I’m surprised Kent didn’t let the cat out of the bag already. I was sure he would run off and blab to you as soon as he figured out why I was needling him with questions.”

Payne waited, but Hancock seemed pleased to leave it at that.

“AND?” she prompted.

“Go pack a bag! I’m taking you on a bit of a vacation. Think of it like a little payback for keeping this walking corpse out of the grave.” Payne’s jaw dropped a bit, but before she could recover, he added, “And that’s all I’m going to say until we’re on the road.”

An hour later, the pair finally stepped into the deserted street, bags and weapons in hand.

“Okay, now where are we going?” Payne demanded.

Hancock waved a finger. “Not yet. We have to meet up with a few people first.”

They walked on. Try as she might, she couldn’t wheedle any more information out of him. Eventually she fell in step with him, stewing in the silence.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Hancock stopped. “You’ll like it, I promise. Just lighten up a bit. This is supposed to be fun!”

Seeing his earnest face, most of the sourness Payne felt melted away.

“Okay… but remember the last ‘trip’ you took me on. It ended with a pile of spoiled mirelurk meat, Brotherhood goons and Fahrenheit hating my guts.”

“Fair enough. This time, I’m bringing along someone a bit more amicable.”

They continued to hike until they got to what looked like a small single-story warehouse. Rows of orderly mutfruit trees sat to one side, tended by a handful of Mr. Handy robots. As they got closer, Payne realized that the warehouse was actually a greenhouse, the inside bursting with greenery. A ramshackle home stood to one side of the building. Payne guessed it was a recent addition.

A smarmy voiced Handy with a green painted chassis greeted them. “Well, this is just super! We love to have visitors! Are you ready to bargain in the garden?”

“Hey there, brother. Is the General around?” Hancock asked casually.

“Come right this way!” The robot floated off in the direction of the shack. “Take a peek behind door number one!”

“Thanks.”

Hancock walked up to the door and gave it a knock. Nate opened the door, dressed only in a pair of jeans and a sweat stained undershirt.

“Hancock? Welcome to Graygarden! The best robot run farm in the Commonwealth.” Something caught his eye. Nate leaned out of the door and yelled around the building. “Hey, Strong! Could you put that over there with the others? Thanks, pal!”

From behind the greenhouse, the muscular super mutant nodded an acknowledgement as he lugged a rusty truck frame to a pile of scrap nearby.

“Why don’t you come in.” He quickly wiped his hands off on his pants before welcoming the pair into the small home’s only room. The room housed a small loveseat, a slapdash kitchenette and a single bed tucked in a corner. “I wasn’t expecting you to get here until tomorrow morning.”

“Well, someone tipped off the guest of honor, but why wait? Besides, don’t you agree that it would be much more impressive to see the place all lit up?”

Nate smirked. “Who let the cat out of the bag?” He added sarcastically, “Let me guess. Fahrenheit?”

Hancock snorted. “Almost let the cat out of the bag… so don’t say anything. And it was Kent, apparently.”

“I’m right here guys!” Payne gave Hancock a playful shove.

“Well, if you really want to leave tonight, I have some stuff around here I need to take care of. Feel free to relax in here, if you want. I’ve got some goodies in the cooler over there.”

With that, Nate ducked out of the shack, leaving the pair alone.

“Good to know that you don’t consider a robot farm a hot vacation spot.” Payne plunked down on the worn couch.

“What? Don’t you find the place charming?” Hancock stretched an arm over her shoulders after lighting a cigarette. “And what’s that old saying? Don’t look a limp horse in the mouth?”

“Charming, yeah, I suppose… the gameshow host bot was a nice touch. And it’s gift horse, not limp horse.”

“You excited yet?”

Payne thought about it for a moment. “Given I haven’t the slightest clue where the fuck you’re dragging me off to in the middle of the night… yeah, I suppose I am.”

“Perfect.” He leaned over and gave her a little peck on her cheek. “I can’t wait to see your face when you figure it out.”

After an hour of vegging on the couch, Nate returned with Strong in tow. Soon they were on the road, picking their way across the back roads of the Commonwealth wasteland. They kept away from any trouble, avoiding any of the sparse habitations they came across, both friendly and hostile. The terrain grew rocky as they followed an old highway. Out of the predawn mist, strange red spires dotted the horizon before them, some lit by hidden spotlights at their base. It took a moment for the familiar shape to register in Payne’s head. Why were there 15-foot-tall Nuka-Cola bottles out here in the middle of nowhere? Then it dawned on her. She stopped in her tracks.

The rest of the group turned to look at her.

“Are you kidding me?” Payne asked, gob smacked. She looked down from the monuments at Hancock’s grinning face. “We’re going to NUKA-WORLD?!”

“Happy now?”

“OH, FUCK YEAH!” Payne could barely keep her delight from forcing her to running ahead. She was beaming when they walked under the giant Nuka-World sign that spanned the wide road between two crumbling parking structures. This was going to be amazing!

At the end of the road stood an old transit center, complete with a fleet of derelict buses.

Nate chatted with Hancock as they walked. “This whole place was filled with Gunners the first time I came here. They were dug in pretty good, but between me, Codsworth and a handful of frag grenades… we made short work of them.”

Payne looked around, picking out the small prewar details left behind by long dead… what were they called… beverageers? Plenty of tourism industry trade magazines had followed the beverage tycoon John-Caleb Bradberton’s attempt to open his Nuka-Cola themed amusement part. The big wigs in Las Vegas drooled over each leaked photo and anonymous interview, while the rank and file worker worried about how much business would be sucked away from the East Coast. Bottle shaped trash cans, crown wearing mascots pointing the way on signs… even just the kitschy red and white theming. All of it was over the top and campy, and it thrilled her each time she saw some new and gaudy detail.

Into the bowels of the station they went. At the base of the stairs sat a bright red monorail train. A cheerful recording touted a percentage of each admission fee being donated to the long forgotten armed forces. It was a bit of a trial fitting Strong into the cabin, but soon they were flying through the air, suspended above the glowing bones of the once magnificent park. Looking out over vast lands, Payne’s giddy smile faded. She felt something well up inside, something that was a stinging, painful kind of sweet. The announcers voice faded away from her ears.

Feeling a warm arm around her waist, she let Hancock pull her aside.

“You okay there?” he whispered.

“Yeah… it’s just…” she floundered before found the words. “This place… it feels so much like home.”