Chapter Text
The wind was tugging on his long coat, cold seeping through. Leaning on an old lamp post, he scanned the poorly lit street from under the rim of his hat.
Like always, Goodneighbor was full of shady characters, though a lot of them were giving him a wide berth, understanding who he was. Ghouls, synths, robots, junkies, occasional well-behaved supermutant. The usual crowd.
He almost stopped reaching for the gun whenever one of them approached him. He had to remind himself that it's irrelevant while he is wearing the coat. He was their hero, the only one they had.
There were a few types of people around here: those who went straight to him and wanted something, those who were respectful in case they will need something in the future, and those who ran away as soon as they noticed him.
And well, here it comes. He could easily see a young drifter making his way through the crowd towards him, glancing nervously behind his shoulder. He lit a cigarette, waiting for the man to come closer, the flame of his lighter quivering in the wind.
"S-Silver Shroud, sir?" it was hard not to smirk. Drifter was young but he himself wasn't much older, "I have something here. I was told to give it to you."
He quickly stepped back, reaching for the submachine gun. Alright, they already tried to do that one before. Would it be a knife? A bullet? Maybe even explosives, seeing how much this one was shaking.
Drifter yelped and dropped to his knees, sobbing.
"Please, sir! It's not like that! I have a message, I just wanted to make a few caps!.."
"Very well," he said slowly, keeping his voice a low rumble, "speak."
"Oh thank you! I-I was told there is an important client is awaiting you in the Third Rail! That's all!"
He rubbed his chin, a leather glove making soft noises against the closely trimmed beard. The Third Rail, huh. The place where it all begun. He heard that the mayor of this dump had owned the watering hole. That could be him trying to get his help.
Despite his continued disdain for ghouls, he couldn't help but feel a little better with this one. He and that rebel synth from the Diamond City had kept her safe in the Glowing Sea. It was quite an argument they had, he remembered. In the end, her logic and determination made him agree, though just barely.
Waving the drifter away, he finished his cigarette in silence. No one else seemed to be approaching him, so he stepped out of the circle of flickering light and started walking slowly towards the bar.
The door opened with a squeak, revealing a dark foyer of sorts, and he made his way down the stairs toward the light. He tensed immediately, seeing that the Rail was a lot emptier than usual. Only the singer and another woman, facing away from him, along with, of course, Charlie. Both of the women were wearing dresses, though Magnolia's was short and provocative like always. Red and sparkly, it fit right in with this seedy bar.
The other lady had a different air about her. She looked out of place, much like he did himself. Long black dress hugging her slender figure, the open back teasing him, angled shoulder blades looking tender and vulnerable. Short dark hair was swept back behind her ears, shining in the murky light.
When she turned at the sound of his steps, he could see that the floor-length dress had a slit along one side and he smirked, catching a glimpse of a long beautiful leg.
She was older than him, but she was easily the most gorgeous woman that he had ever seen in his life. Dark eyes that seem too large for her face, thin chiseled features, red lips curved in a small smile, a stray strand of hair falling onto her forehead, curling lightly. A thin trail of smoke weaved next to her face. Her toned arms were hidden in the long black gloves, a silver cigarette holder between her fingers.
Her smile widened a bit as she noticed him. Leaning closer to Magnolia, she whispered something into her ear and the singer giggled. They smirked at each other and shared a kiss, long and sensual. He swallowed hard, pulling his coat close. It was a business meeting, she called him over to deal with a problem. It wouldn't do well to stare, but he couldn't help himself, already hardening. At least with glasses on it wasn't too obvious that he was looking, but he knew that she knew.
Breaking the kiss, the lady nodded to the stage, whispering again. Magnolia nodded back and, winking at him, walked up the small stairs and hit the button of a recorder. The tape clicked loudly in the silence and the music came streaming out.
He recognized an old world piano. They don't make them like that anymore. What passed for this instrument in this day and age was rather crude, unable to replicate the depth of sound. Alas, two hundred years have destroyed all the old fragile ones.
The woman approached him slowly, her hips swaying teasingly as she moved.
"This is the end..."
Magnolia's voice was low and sultry, drawing out the sweet sounds. He knew that she would have told her to sing this particular song.
"Hold your breath and count to ten..."
Might not be a bad idea. He was tense with arousal, with this whole situation, drunk with the sight of her. He never saw her wearing a dress before.
"Feel the earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again..."
She blew the smoke to the side, a curve of her neck alluring.
"So you must be the Silver Shroud," she purred, her eyes half-closed, searching his face. She was tall, as tall as he was since she was wearing heels, a relic of forgotten age. Long fingers trailing the lapels of his coat, almost innocently, "I'm Maresi. It's nice to meet you at last."
He pulled off the reflective glasses and met her gaze, dark versus blue.
"For this is the end
I've drowned and dreamt this moment
So overdue I owe them
Swept away, I'm stolen..."
"You wished to see me, miss?" his voice was low, and he put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching over and touching her, "is there a problem that requires Shroud's attention?"
"Already talking about business?" she sounded a bit disappointed. Her gloved hand slipped on his shoulder as she led him towards a small clearing between the tables, "not even going to get me a drink?"
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"My dear Maresi, you don't want to drink anything from around here."
She smirked, stopping and looking at him. Challenging.
"A dance, then."
His eyes widened. He had no idea what she wanted, or even what dancing was in her time. But he let her arrange his hands, one on her waist, the other one holding hers. He was unsure and it must have shown on his face as she laughed quietly.
"Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand tall
Face it all together..."
He wished he had gloves off, to feel the soft skin of her back. She took a step back with the music, pulling on him lightly, and he stepped forward, following her. She was leading him, step to the side, turn, step back, turn. He tried to mirror her as best as he could, feeling nervous and rather clumsy, but she smiled and nodded, making him feel more at ease.
Step, step, step. It was not that bad. Behind them Magnolia kept purring into the mic, gently swaying with the rhythm they were also following.
"Where you go I go
What you see I see
I know I'd never be me
Without the security
Of your loving arms
Keeping me from harm
Put your hand in my hand
And we'll stand..."
They stopped, looking at each other as Magnolia's voice trailed off at the end of the song. The tape clicked and silence enveloped them.
He let go of her reluctantly and produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. She reached out, picking one without his permission, but he only smiled and held his lighter out for her, flame springing to life with a turn of a wheel.
She nodded towards the singer.
"My friend Magnolia over here has some troubles with a couple of... suitors. They are turning violent, bothering her when she is away from this place and it's bouncers. I worry for her safety."
He lit his own cigarette and took a thoughtful drag.
"How would you like me to deal with them, Maresi?"
She smirked at the sound of her name.
"They are in the Combat Zone."
"So the world wouldn't miss the miscreants."
"Exactly."
He cocked his head to the side, watching her. Her smile was fascinating and he couldn't look away. He didn't care about Magnolia leaving and muttering of Charlie Whitechapel. It all faded into the background as she smiled, and two hundred years seemed to blur as well. He never saw the world before the war, but it felt like if he would step outside it was going to be full of noise, light, people and cars. Police chasing criminals, mobsters plotting their next move, the houses around full and bustling with life...
"I was under the impression that vile nest was cleared out a while ago," he said finally, letting go of that feeling.
"It was," she agreed, her free hand took his, rubbing gentle circles along the top, "not anymore."
She stepped up closer to him, and he could feel her breath on his cheek.
"Do that little favor for me, Shroud, and I might just think of some way to reward you for all your hard work," he suddenly felt solid something pressing into his palm. A key.
He wanted to kiss her, but she turned her head and floated away, heading for the exit.
"When you're done, I'll be in Rexford Hotel. Don't keep me waiting..."
Her hips were whispering him a promise as he watched her leave.
He was stalking through the night, heading for the Commons. On the way, only a pair of ferals tried to jump him from a dark corner. He fired the submachine gun, tearing them to pieces with ease. He could have had one of his regular weapons, but he wanted to be fully immersed in his role. It felt good.
The sign for a raider bar was strapped together from random scrap, glowing letters screaming "Combat Zone". He frowned at the noise inside. That was a lot of people. With any luck, he could sneak up on them, find a good vantage point and fire with maximum efficiency.
Let the sky fall, he smirked, wondering if she was giving him a clue.
He walked around the trashed building, noticing an open window on the second floor. It was possible to get up there from a neighboring house. The jump wouldn't be a problem.
Raiders were in the middle of watching a bloody match in the cage when bullets started raining down. Some of them even ignored the noise and screams behind them. He could only assume that deadly fights all over the place were normal amongst the likes of them. Some of the raiders climbed up on the second floor to try and flank him, but he jumped down, his trained body rolling without thinking to break his inertia.
He turned over a metal table and crouched behind it, waiting for them to start reloading. As soon as he heard a pause he jumped up and started shooting. The only one that was left standing after that was the gang leader that managed to scrounge together a set of ragged power armor.
It was a monstrous thing, rusty, battered, with spikes welded all over the place. He barely could recognize the T-45 model, probably left over from the war. The raider howled and charged, probably hoping to crush him and pierce him with spikes.
He ducked easily, opening fire on the move. Bullets mostly bounced off the metal shell, but he could see that some had made it through.
The caliber was too small for this one, not to mention too much scatter. His hand dove inside the trenchcoat, producing a .44. He had to jump over on the stage to keep away from the reach of the raider. He then looked up and grinned. Tucking the gun behind his belt, for now, he jumped, pulling himself up onto the cage itself and climbed fast. Grabbing onto the welded railings, he took out the revolver.
Raider was missing the helmet, instead having something like a muzzle strapped onto his head. He aimed, and, despite the shaking of the cage, pulled the trigger, hitting his target.
The leader of now wiped out gang fell down on the floor. He jumped down, turning him over face down with his boot. Extracting the power core, he left a calling card on top of the corpse for the next group to take over this hole to find.
After that, he exited the building and opened fire on the glowing sign. It cracked and spat sparkles as it fell apart. That should help a bit.
With that done he all but sprinted back towards Goodneighbor, his hand finding a key inside the pocket.
It was the same room, he realized as he walked in, locking the door behind him. Perhaps she had some sort of an arrangement with the owner of the place. He didn't want to know.
She sat on the windowsill, long legs crossed, looking out, a slowly smoldering cigarette between her fingers. Her silhouette was clearly outlined in the moonlight.
"I trust it's done," she said, throwing her smoke out of the window. He nodded.
Rising from her place, she slowly walked over to him. The room was dark but he could still see that she was smiling.
"I guess everything I heard about you was right, Shroud. Or was it?"
"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow, even though he knew she couldn't see it, "what else have you heard people say about me, miss Maresi?"
Her nimble fingers took off his glasses and he felt her tucking them into one of his pockets.
"That you can seduce anyone you wish to have. You can make a woman scream your name out in ecstasy just as easily as you pull a trigger," she purred, closing the last sliver of distance between them, "... but your brave heart is already taken."
He chuckled, pulling her against his body.
"Partly true, mostly true and yes, true," he whispered, his now gloveless hands sliding down her back, caressing the soft skin as he captured her lips. He had seen her kiss Magnolia earlier and couldn't stop counting seconds before he could finally do the same to her.
He deepened the kiss, bending her backward slightly. His fingers slid up over her shoulders, easing thin straps of the dress off. He let go of her, letting the fabric slide down her body with a barely audible whisper. His breath caught in his throat. She was now wearing only long gloves and high heel shoes and he drank in the sight of her like a man who just crossed a desert would drink a glass of water.
Lifting her up in his arms with little effort - she was a lithe, slender thing - he carried her over to the bed, sitting her down on the edge. His hat came to rest on the nightstand and he ran a hand through his dark brown hair, smoothing the longer part. He then left his weapons, a pistol, and a submachine gun, and let the coat drop from his shoulders.
He turned back to her, seeing that she was removing one glove, biting on the tip of the finger and dragging it off her arm. She then brought her fingers to the mouth and, looking into his eyes, she began to suck on them. He smirked and started slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
Her glistening fingers trailed down her body, sliding down between her legs. She sighed, her eyes fluttering as she fingered herself, waiting for him. His motions were slow and deliberate. He was in no rush.
Finally, the last button gave up and he pulled the shirt off, dropping it on the floor as well. Walking over to her, he pulled the belt off, holding it in his hands for a bit, thinking.
No. Not tonight. He let it drop with a thump, his pants and underwear soon followed.
He sat down next to her, pulling her hand to his mouth and licked her fingers clean. She was watching intensely, focused on his lips, and as soon as he is done she moved in and straddled his hips. Her lips were soft against his, her tongue is playful. He was sure she can taste the slight tang of her own juices.
She rubbed against him and he groaned quietly. Lifting her up by the hips he positioned her over his pulsing cock, feeling her wet lips brushing the tip. She quivered, breathing shallow. She wanted to drop down on him, envelop him in her slick heat, but he had learned the value of anticipation.
He held her tight, nuzzling into her small breasts. A perked up nipple brushed against his lip and he caught it in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. She gasp and moans and he felt her wetness seeping down on the head. He let her drop down a bit, only dipping in slightly before pulling her back up. She bit back a disappointed moan as he let her go lower next time, spreading her lower lips wider, but pulled out again.
He was waiting, and she knew what he wanted. A sigh marked her surrender.
"Please, Shroud... Take me. Make me yours..."
She was rewarded instantly with him sliding her down on his cock. They both groaned and he buried his face into a crook of her long neck, breathing in deeply. She smelled faintly of something flowery, but underneath that he caught a trail of smoke, sweat, and leather, with a hint of machine oil. Not a very ladylike scent, despite all the work she put in her appearance today, but for him, there was no perfume more exquisite.
He thrust her onto him, time after next, feeling the heat coursing through his body. He forced himself to slow down breathing, biting back on the rising tide of pleasure. Not yet.
Releasing her from a tight hold he laid back, letting her ride him as she pleased while his fingers found her clit and started playing with it. Pretty soon she was panting, her hips jerking. He grinned. Distracting her was always fun.
Flipping over suddenly he pinned her to the mattress. Catching both of her narrow wrists in one hand over her head, he pounded himself deep into her pussy, grunting. She arched into him and a moment later she was crying out. She moaned his name as she came, his real name, but he couldn't care less about a break in the role.
He kept going, but he knew it was not too long now, her fluttering walls drained all the resolve from him. He wanted nothing more than to spill his seed inside the inviting wet heat, to make her his, and so he did. Unlike her he was almost always quiet since life in the military taught a certain level of discretion. He found it fascinating that she was so openly loud with her pleasure. He always wanted to hear more.
Pressing his forehead to hers he wondered if she had done anything like this with the other one, but somehow he knew that she didn't. This... whatever it was, was theirs and theirs only.
Rolling off her he sat up, catching his breath. Her hands came up behind him and he felt her body against his back.
"Stay?" she asked innocently and a small single word, it almost crushed his will. He shook his head and stood up, breaking the contact before it was too late.
"I have to go. Thank you."
He dressed quickly, grabbed his weapons and left his key on the nightstand instead. She was lounging on the bed, half-wrapped into the tangled sheets, and watched him.
"Goodbye, Maresi," he whispers. He had to leave, now, before she had a chance to persuade him otherwise.
"Goodbye, mister Silver Shroud," she purred. He nodded to her and walked out, the door closing behind him.
He was down on the streets again when something made him look back, and up in the open window, he saw her. Her skin was almost glowing in the darkness, sheets draped around her naked body like a gown of moonlight. She blew a kiss to him.
He tipped his hat, smiling, and walked into the night.