#it's not healthy but hancock understands harm reduction better than most and knows that she's better off having a safe space

[watchyourdigits]

Falloutober Day Four

Daddy-O

I'm taking a break from Frankie and Danse to write a little bit for Evelyn. This is her first time properly meeting Hancock and the two of them end up striking a deal that's of a rather bizarre nature. This deviates slightly from the way I portrayed their meeting in Eve's main fic, with a little added flirting because why not? Also, something about ripping the opening of Pride and Prejudice just felt right. Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: smoking, chem use

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of good fortune must be in want of chems.

However little known the feelings or views of such a woman may be on her first entering Goodneighbor, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the residents, that she is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their dealers.

Hancock wasn't having it.

She'd visited three weeks prior, which was when he and a few others had taken bets on whether or not she'd make it in the Commonwealth. They'd all bet against her.

When Hancock had his fill of Jet, he liked to consider himself an optimist and, as such, he was the only one of the group to take a chance on her.

No matter his state, however, he wasn't above rigging the game. A little interference in such matters wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, it was one of his mayoral duties to ensure the safety of both locals and travelers alike.

Hancock had spotted the glow of her Pip Boy from his balcony and took it upon himself to swoop in, plucking her off the streets before she had a chance to even consider opening her purse.

"They'll con you out of a few hundred caps faster than you can say 'Jack Robinson'."

She was wary of him, he could tell, as he ushered her into the State House and out of the crisp autumn air.

"You visited a few weeks back, right?" he asked, trying to make small talk as he guided her up the staircase.

She looked different than before when he'd spotted her only in passing. MacCready had been the only one to really interact with her during her first visit to the city. He'd described her as being 'weepy and under-prepared' and had been amongst those to bet against her.

Now, she had a neat little pistol on her hip and a rather large knife strapped to her thigh.

Oh, how Hancock longed to see the look on the merc's face as he handed over his caps.

"I don't recall."

"I do. I don't think I could ever forget a face as beautiful as yours," he said coyly, testing the waters just for the hell of it.

Bad move.

She narrowed her eyes at him, fingers twitching at her side as if she longed to grab her knife and skin his leathery hide.

Hancock put his hands up in defense. She relaxed a little.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, watching him closely for any signs of ill-intent.

"I know what you're here for. Like I said, you'll lose more than you gain on the streets."

"Yeah, conned 'faster than I can say Jackie Robinson'. I got that part."

"Jack Robinson," Hancock corrected casually. "Not familiar with a 'Jackie'."

"Oh. He was a baseball player," she explained. "The first-"

She stopped herself, her expression shuttering, as if she'd said too much. About what, he wasn't sure.

Hancock raised what would have been an eyebrow. She noticed the look and waved a hand.

She was odd, that was for sure. Then again, most people were at least a little odd these days.

"Anyway, I figured a gal like you might appreciate this, so I'll shoot straight… I have money on you. That is to say, I've done some betting and now have a vested interest in ensuring your safety."

"Betting? On… me?" she parroted.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Now in his office, Hancock gestured to one of the couches with a flourish.

"Have a seat and I'll explain everything."

He began fixing them each up with a drink, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared the alcohol.

"House special?"

"Sure," she said noncommittally.

He watched her for a moment longer as her gaze moved around the room, taking everything in. He turned back to the drinks and popped one of the drawers open, pulling out a syringe.

"Full disclosure, it's whiskey and a little bit of Daddy-O."

"You can drink that stuff?" she asked skeptically.

"You'd be surprised what you find out when you've got time to kill."

He added about a quarter of the syringe to her drink and the rest to his own. He stirred hers as he brought it over to her, handing it off and going back for his.

Hancock sat on the couch across from her and took a sip. She watched him swallow before taking a rather large swig of her own.

"So, this bet you have…"

"Right, like I was saying… Some of my guys noticed you and didn't think you had it in you to survive, started putting caps down on it."

She huffed and leaned back in her chair. He watched as she stretched out her legs, making herself comfortable.

"Did anyone else bet against the odds?"

"Not a damn one," he replied, pursing his lips and shaking his head solemnly.

She hummed appreciatively and took a sip of her drink, slower this time, as she mulled over the information. Hancock didn't allow the silence to stand for long.

"I don't believe I caught your name."

"Evelyn. Friends call me Eve."

"Evelyn… I like that," he complimented, pausing to pull out his cigarettes.

He lit one and offered it to her. She didn't hesitate in taking it from him. Her warm fingers brushed his as she did so. She didn't recoil at the touch.

Hancock lit one up for himself. He took a long drag before speaking again.

"Back to business. Is there anything I can do to guarantee I win this thing?"

Something flashed in her eyes that sent a shiver down Hancock's spine. What it was, he wasn't sure until he saw it in the way the corners of her mouth turned to form the ghost of a smirk; she was a woman haunted by something he had yet to learn the nature of.

He'd met plenty of folks like her before, always running from something no one else could see. Hell, he'd been that person for a while.

Perhaps he still was, for what it was worth.

"Not unless you plan on splitting the profits with me."

She leveled him with the offer as if she was bartering at Bunker Hill, not suggesting she'd see to her own demise should he not agree to her terms.

The implication that she had that little to lose weighed heavy. Something told him that wasn't the case, but he called her bluff anyway.

"You're one crazy broad, aren't you?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"And if I wanted to?"

Her pupils were blown wide, the chems working their way through her system. She leaned forward and licked her lips. It wasn't seductive in any way, but instead spoke of a hunger that lingered just below the surface.

Hancock couldn't help mimicking the movement, leaning in toward the table that separated them.

She was calm and observant, with an edge of crazy that cut like a knife. There was a dangerous tension about her that was damn near palpable, as if she'd pounce at any moment. He wouldn't be surprised if she did. He wasn't sure he'd mind much, either.

"I guess you'll just have to come along for the ride," she purred, giving him a once-over as she did so.

Now, that was seductive.

It was also an invitation, one that would allow him into her world if he played his cards right.

He thought he'd had her, but he realized he had it backward when he found himself wanting her, wanting to know more.

"You aren't told 'no' often, are you?"

She grinned. Two identical rows of perfectly white teeth shone in the dim light.

"Not very."

Hancock considered her, leaning back and taking another sip of his drink.

"I'm not usually one to go with the crowd, but I think I can make an exception... I'm in."

She laughed at that and the sound rippled through him like the best chems money could buy, and just as addictive.

"I like the way you play, Mister Mayor."

"Call me Hancock," he crooned, tipping his hat.

She polished off her whiskey and made a sound of disappointment before placing the glass down on the table.

"Got any more of that 'house special', Hancock?"

"For you, Eve? Anything."