This is a series of one shots from Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas, and Fallout 4. I do not own any of the characters, of course.
All One Shots are in alphabetical order for your convenience.
Anything with an ➵ and a title has been reread, and (hopeful...
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"It wasn't my fault!"
"You literally stabbed the guy!"
"Well, if you want to get technical, it's Charlie's fault for serving me more of that swill when he knew I was already drunk!"
Hancock rolled his eyes and paced around as I sat on the torn red leather couch. He pinched he bridge above his missing nose, "Y/N... You almost killed a guy. Anyone else I would throw out of town without question. You're lucky I like you. But still... There needs to be some type of punishment for this. I have a reputation and I can't just let this sort of shit fly!"
"Fine! You know what? I'll just go! Wouldn't want to hurt your precious 'reputation'!" I stood up, storming out and slamming the door before he could form a response. I shoved my shoulder into Farenheight's and went to stand outside of the settlement. Fuming, I drove a fist into the steel wall and screamed quietly from behind clenched teeth. So what? I get seriously drunk for the second time that week, and nearly kill a guy. So what? Not like the guy was special to Hancock, or anyone else, for that matter. People die in the Commonwealth all the time. What difference did it make?
I paced back and forth thinking of where to go next when Hancock slipped outside the door to Goodneighbor. I frowned at him, and he leaned against the door. He flicked his hat back a bit so I could see his eyes. He gave off a Republican Cowboy vibe. That's what I liked about him. I snarled at him, "Couldn't keep away huh? Only been thirty minutes."
He sighed, "Look, toots, I spoke with the people, and tried to be reasonable with them. They said they'd agree to you staying if you help them out with personal buisness from time to time." He saw the look on my face and smiled, "Not that kind of personal buisness. That's saved for me. They just need help delivering messages and clearing places every now and then. Agree to help them, and locally apologize, and you'll be allowed to stay." Rolling my eyes, I agreed to his rules. The people were unusually forgiving, but I suspected it was because I was Hancock's partner in the streets and in the sheets. Oh well. What mattered was that I could stay at my home, and with the man I loved.
