Chapter Text
Bingo Prompt: First Kiss
It was getting dark as Cooper Howard pushed open the door to the only bar in the settlement he’d found himself in, Lucy MacLean following in his wake like a shadow. Some previously long buried instinct had him holding the door for her, just for long enough so that she could pass through the entryway, her gaze nearly burning a hole through him. The dog settled outside, dropping her head on her paws, letting out a little huff as she got comfortable, and Cooper let the door shut behind them.
His new companion watched him like a dog watched a stranger that had once kicked it. He guessed he couldn’t blame her. For the first several days of this little road trip (Christ what he wouldn’t give for a fucking car…hell, he’d let her pick the music) she had been near silent, those big brown eyes following his every movement like he might just decide on a whim to pull out a gun and shoot her. Any sudden move on his part had her hand shooting to her own hip, fingers grazing the little 10 millimeter pistol she’d picked up somewhere. It wasn’t a bad gun…he still wanted to find her something better the first chance he got.
It was strange, sharing space with someone again for the first time in…fuck, he didn’t even know how long. He’d traveled with some others in those first couple of years, he remembered that much. He had vague memories of sharing fires and banding together, looting what they could and taking shifts at night to fight off raiders. He was a light sleeper these days, though…it was a skill he’d honed over the many, many years. Lucy, not so much. After that first day of walking, and nearly every day since, when they finally stopped for the night and sat down, she was out in less than five minutes. He hadn’t been surprised.
He remembered how it felt. Would never forget. He’d wanted to see Lucy MacLean humbled, hadn’t he? He’d wanted to bring her down a peg. See her knocked off her sanctimonious Vault Tec bullshit and admit that she was just as bad as the rest of them. But seeing her brought low hadn’t given him nearly as much joy as he’d thought it would. In fact, it hadn’t given him so much as a moment’s happiness.
Lucy MacLean wasn’t as bad as the rest of them. In fact, Cooper had a suspicion that she was good, through and through. Naive, maybe. Definitely privileged. A little bit of a know it all. But good, nonetheless.
The woman that followed him through the wasteland seemed like a shell of the woman he’d first met in Filly. For five days, she’d kept quiet. She’d watched him. She’d watched the dog. She’d probably processed her daddy’s betrayal as best she could, but she didn’t share any of those thoughts with him. At night, he saw the way her shoulders shook once she was curled up, her back always facing him, and he heard the way her breathing would hitch with the tears she tried to keep quiet. All the while, Cooper focused on figuring out where young Henry was headed…and on keeping Lucy alive. He supposed he owed it to her, after all. She’d saved his life when she’d had no reason to…when she would have been justified in killing him. So Lucy processed and watched him, seemingly waiting for him to turn on her at any moment, and Cooper led the way.
It had been another long day of walking through the desert, following a trail he wasn’t even sure existed, and as tired as she probably was, he needed a drink. It had been three days since the last settlement and he didn’t have a single concrete lead on what hole Henry fucking MacLean had crawled into. If Lucy had thoughts on going to a bar before finding a room for the night, she didn’t share them…not that she shared many of her thoughts. He told himself he didn’t mind…he was used to walking in silence anyway. The few friends he had tended to drop like flies, the wasteland taking its toll on everyone.
Roger had been a good man, though. At least he’d died looking at a pretty girl, thinking about happier times.
Cooper took a seat on one of the barstools and, after a second’s hesitation, Lucy took the stool beside him. He’d used a few precious caps on the pack she wore on her back in the first settlement he’d led her to, along with the water in her canteen and the bandana she wore wrapped around her face when they walked through the desert to shield her from the unforgiving sun and the never ending sand, brushing off her soft, wary gratitude with a wave of his hand. The purchase had been purely practical. If he was going to be traveling with her, it would be a pain in the ass if she dropped dead from dehydration. Besides, it might be fun to confront her daddy with her at his side.
Now the woman sat beside him, watching him, either for clues on what to do next or because she thought this might be the culmination of his dastardly plan…to lure her into a bar in public and finally shoot her in the head. Part of him wanted to ask if she really thought he was playing some kind of long game here…if he’d been making sure she had enough to eat and water to drink all to lead her to the perfect spot to kill her in cold blood. A bigger part of him didn’t want to hear her answer.
He knew what he was. He knew what she thought of him. Trust from her wasn’t going to come from words, anyway, so for the last five days, he’d kept his mouth shut and tried to show her that he had no intention of hurting her. In fact, he was doing his best to keep her safe.
The bartender came over, looking between the two of them with a vague sort of curiosity. “What can I get you?”
“Whiskey. Neat.” Before he could ask Lucy what she wanted, Cooper went on. “A glass of wine. Something sweet. And a Nuka Cola.” He had no idea if people in Vaults were even allowed to drink, but he figured if they were, it was nothing hard. And if she didn’t like it, he’d drink it and let her keep the soda. When he glanced at the woman beside him, she was watching him, which was nothing unusual, but instead of looking afraid, she just looked curious. And he figured that was as good an opening as any. “You ever drink down in that root cellar you call home?”
She thought for a moment, probably putting together his meaning through context, then nodded. “Yes. Sometimes. For special occasions.”
“Huh.”
The bartender put a shot of whiskey in front of him, and a bottle of cola and a glass of pale wine in front of her. Lucy took the wine, closing her eyes as she put her lips to the edge of the glass and took a delicate sip. She held it in her mouth for a moment, a little smile softening her face, then swallowed, and Cooper had to force his gaze back to his own glass.
“How much?”
Cooper glanced up from his drink, taking in the guy who’d just appeared at his side. He’d heard him come in…had felt him coming closer. There wasn’t a person in the room he hadn’t already mentally cataloged as ‘threat’ or ‘probably not a threat, but category liable to change.’ But it wasn’t often people approached him outright. This guy was tall, with deep set blue eyes and a pale scar on his neck. He didn’t recognize him…didn’t think he’d been the one to give him that scar, especially since he’d been in a coffin for the better part of thirty years, and this guy didn’t look any older than forty. The wasteland had a way of aging people…so he could have been younger, maybe even Lucy’s age, however old that was.
That still didn’t give him any clue as to what exactly he wanted to buy. Taking another sip, Cooper lifted a brow.
“For the girl.” It was said matter-of-factly, like Cooper was an idiot for not knowing.
He felt Lucy stiffen beside him…felt her wide eyes, as big as a doe’s, fix on him. He couldn’t exactly be offended at her worry. He’d sold her once, after all. But surely she had to know that things were different now. He didn’t need vials. Not yet, anyway. Besides, this woman had saved his life. She’d just watched her whole world crumble around her…had just felt the same betrayal he remembered so well. And maybe that meant something to him.
Maybe it meant a lot to him.
“Girl ain’t for sale,” Cooper told the man, going back to his drink.
“How much for an hour?”
Cooper turned around then, letting his expression speak for itself. Usually, a look like that would have a man running off, tail tucked between his legs. This idiot just stared at him. “You fucking deaf? The girl ain’t mine. She’s not for sale.”
“How much for an hour, honey?” the guy asked, undeterred as he went to move around Cooper, and he spun on his barstool, throwing the rest of his drink back as he drew his pistol, jamming it into the guy’s side. Lucy spun too, staring wide-eyed between the two of them as she leaned back in her seat like she was trying to get away.
“No,” she said softly, seeming at a loss as she shook her head, and for a moment, Cooper thought she was reprimanding him, but then she went on. “I’m…not interested.”
“There. She ain’t interested. Now fuck off.”
The boy shot him a nasty look before slinking off, and Lucy let out a breath, staring at him with something like gratitude.
For some reason, it made his stomach turn.
Cooper holstered his gun and spun back around, tapping on the bar. Without a word, the bartender refilled his drink, and Lucy went back to sipping her wine. But he couldn’t help notice how she relaxed, shoulders coming down, eyes closing once more as she took another sip of wine. And that, he had to admit, felt pretty damn good.
The hotel room he found them that night had two beds, and Lucy didn’t even seem to notice that the mattresses were stained or that the pillows were flat. She just passed the bed he’d dropped his saddle bag onto…the one closest to the door, and dropped onto the other one, face in the pillow. She’d only had two glasses of wine, and he was pretty sure she was closer to tipsy than drunk, but he still crossed his arms and regarded her critically for a moment.
“Hey Vaultie, try not to suffocate yourself in your sleep, huh? It would be a pain to dispose of your body.”
“Wouldn’t you just eat me?” she grumbled, turning her face towards him. Her cheeks were flushed with the alcohol, big eyes heavy lidded, and something about her petulant face made him chuckle to himself. Those big eyes got bigger, then scanned him head to toe like she was considering something…but no…he was being stupid…it was just some kind of long buried wishful thinking that had him thinking shit like that. Still, he couldn't help grinning at her.
“You know what? You make a fine point. Carry on, sweetie.”
He was pretty sure the little noise she made before she rolled over was a laugh.
All through their first few days together, Cooper had waited for the questions. How did he know her father? What did he know about Vault Tec? Why did he know about Vault Tec? Or even the most basic ‘what’s your name?’ He knew hers, after all. He hadn’t given his own first name in a long time, mostly because people tended to refer to him as ‘the ghoul’ and that was fine with him. But maybe, he thought as he climbed into his own bed, an ear out for Lucy’s soft breathing, his hand resting on Dogmeat’s head as she curled up on the bed beside him, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if she knew his name.
Despite his patience, Lucy never asked him anything. Not even a ‘where are we going?’ She just followed him, quiet as Dogmeat, wherever he led. He wondered, as he stared up into the darkness of the room, how he could change that, or, more important, why he would even want to. Cooper Howard would have, he knew. Cooper Howard would have cared that Lucy was so traumatized she barely spoke…he would have hated the fact that a young woman was afraid of him. That he’d given her a reason to be. Of course, Cooper Howard had died when those bombs had dropped.
And then a woman whose death warrant he’d all but signed had shown him mercy in a parking lot.
He woke before her the next morning, but he usually did. Either by nature or because of all the walking, Lucy slept like the dead, and he’d found himself giving her a few extra minutes of sleep when he could, excusing it by reminding himself that she’d just slow him down more if she was tired. So he took Dogmeat out, then gave her a couple of pieces of jerky, and when they returned to the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, Lucy’s eyes fluttered open, shooting first to him, then the dog. Assessing the threats in order, he supposed.
“We’re staying here another night,” Cooper told her without preamble. “I’m going to hunt down an old acquaintance of mine.” Acquaintance was a generous term for the asshole he was trying to find. “Stay in the settlement. Try not to get yourself killed.”
Lucy wiped a hand over her eyes, blinking a few times before nodding. “Okay.”
And, leaving her to sleep more or whatever the hell else she wanted to do, Cooper tried to put her out of his mind as he left the room once more, Dogmeat on his heels. He’d thought about leaving the dog with her, but figured she’d be fine…she’d probably just sleep a little while longer. Maybe find something to eat.
That man from the day before might still be around…but Lucy had a gun and she was a tough little thing. And he had more important shit to worry about. She was an adult and he sure as hell hadn’t signed on to be her babysitter. That’s what he told himself as he strode through the settlement, keeping an eye out for the little shit from the night before, a hand coming down to ruffle Dogmeat’s fur every once in a while. She’d survived on her own just fine before she’d met him…and she’d survived him . Not to mention the little drug operation she single handedly took down. She’d been the one to save his ass, after all. So he put her and her big eyes and her suspicious looks out of his mind and got to work.
But when he got back to the hotel a few hours later, she wasn’t there.
He didn’t go looking for her…didn’t entertain the thought for more than half a second before taking a seat on the bed and pulling out his gun to clean it. She’d be back…she’d left her pack on the bed, after all. She wouldn’t get far without water. And even if she did want to part ways, it was no skin off his…well, he thought with a smirk, metaphorical nose. She wasn’t his prisoner…wasn’t his anything. Lucy MacLean could leave anytime she wanted.
He most definitely did not sigh in relief when she returned to the room before he’d even finished cleaning his shotgun. Lucy hesitated in the doorway, eyes doing their customary sweep of both him and Dogmeat, then shut the door behind her.
“Well, at least you didn’t get yourself killed,” he told her, focusing on the pieces of his gun he’d been cleaning.
Those eyes just watched him, more hesitant than wary. He didn’t look up for more than a second, just focused on the task at hand, like he was trying to put a feral cat at ease. Then, finally, she spoke.
“I found a community board for job listings.”
He grunted like this wasn’t the first information she’d willingly and without prompting shared with him since they’d started traveling together. “They got jobs for Vaulties in this place?”
“This hotel has indoor plumbing. There’s a shower room, and some of the more expensive rooms have their own private bathrooms. They had a pipe that needed replacing, and there was an issue with the water pressure in one of the rooms.” Then she said something about a filtration system, filling the silence with chatter about water treatment and the maintenance of the systems used therein, and he sat his shotgun down in his lap, watching her talk in bewildered amusement until she trailed off, dropping her eyes back to her lap. Never in the history of their, admittedly, somewhat limited acquaintance, had he heard her put so many words together.
For some reason, Dogmeat took the silence as her cue to hop down from the bed and join Lucy instead, placing her head on the woman’s knee and staring up at her with those big brown eyes. Lucy froze, watching the dog with the same wariness she usually reserved for Cooper, then, slowly, like she was afraid of having it bitten off, rested a hand on the dog’s head, giving her a hesitant little ear scratch. Dogmeat’s tail wagged, and he watched the woman’s face soften a little.
“Were you a plumber or something? Down in that Vault of yours?”
She tilted her head, thoughtful, eyes darting down to the gun on his lap for half a second. “Everyone in the Vault learned the basics of maintaining the water treatment systems.”
“Is that what you did all day?” he wondered, curious despite himself. He hadn’t pegged her as a plumber, but what the hell did he know about her?
“No. I was a teacher.”
“Huh.” That, he thought, picking up his gun again, made more sense. She was still watching him, but when their eyes met, she let hers drop. “Can I guess?” he asked.
Lucy cocked her head like a damn dog.
“English?”
For a moment, those big eyes just watched him. Then her lips twitched, and she shook her head. “No.”
He grunted, thoughtful. Then, “math?”
“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ with a little smile. He felt his lips try to twitch into an answering one as her shoulders relaxed once more.
He turned to stare at her full on, taking in her face as if there might be some clue there. She looked right back, one corner of her mouth quirked up, expectant and amused. He found that he liked that better than wary. “History.”
Her full on smile, complete with eyes crinkling at the corners, told him he was right. “American history with a focus on ethics.”
“Yeah, that checks out. What grade?”
“Kindergarten through fifth.”
“They let you pick?”
She thought for a moment, head tilting one way, then the other. “We took aptitude tests. And they did take our interests into consideration when we were assigned training specialties.”
“Well, that’s something I guess.”
To his surprise, she reciprocated. “What about you? Were you always a bounty hunter?”
He started reassembling the shotgun. “I was not.”
“Can I guess?”
He lifted a brow, and she studied him, as if she hadn’t been staring at him for five straight days now, tentatively playful.
“Doctor?”
He couldn’t have stopped the laughter if he’d wanted to, head thrown back as he chuckled, and when he caught his breath, he saw her smiling down at her lap. “No, sweetheart, I believe my bedside manner would leave something to be desired.”
“Hm…police officer?”
“Strike two.”
Her brow furrowed at that. “Strike? Like…baseball? Or bowling?”
“Baseball. Means you’re wrong.”
She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down as she thought, and he had to tear his eyes away. Then, soft and hesitant, “Cowboy?”
He raised his brows. “Cowboy, huh?”
She nodded, eyes darting back down to his gun again. He took his hands off it.
“Not bad, Vaultie. I’ll give it to you. That’s pretty damn close.”