Fallout 4: AR

71. Lessons in Bargaining

MacCready groaned, "Oh no, not this again." He plucked the piece out of my hand, placing it remarkably gently back on the board. "She's obsessed with chess," he announced to me in an aggrieved tone.

"Just because you always lose..." Fahrenheit began, but was cut off by my partner.

"Twice isn't always," he groused, hunching his shoulders.

"You only played me twice," she parried, pinning my blushing bodyguard with a withering gaze. "Such a valiant knight, refusing to do battle..." Her only answer was an annoyed huff.

"Boss, you don't play, do you?" His voice practically begged me to deny it.

"I do," I admitted, to Fahrenheit's intense interest and MacCready's exasperation. "My dad taught me how to play when I was a kid. But I haven't played in years, and I'm not very good," I amended.

"Fair enough," she acknowledged. "Care for a game, little pawn?"

To say Fahrenheit beat me would be a vast understatement. She consistently thrashed my novice skills in a set of embarrassingly short matches, but was oddly kind enough to offer suggestions on how I could improve my game. MacCready sulked against the cushions at first, but after my gracious acceptance of defeat in the first game, soon shuffled over to lean against me, watching the gameplay with childlike fascination. He huffed at Fahrenheit's suggestions, which I found confusing until he grumbled-

"Why didn't you ever tell any me this stuff when you taught me how to play?"

"Because, little knight," she explained, "you were being a sore loser."

MacCready glared at me when I giggled, unable to resist after seeing the sly smile on my opponent's face. "Hey, at least she's calling you a knight," I reasoned. "I'm apparently just a pawn."

"Not for long, I'd wager." Hancock's raspy tenor sounded behind us as he entered the room. "Ya gotta cross the board to get promoted, after all."

Oy, chess metaphors. What is that supposed to mean?

The Ghoul stalked over to our group, taking a seat next to Fahrenheit. "Found another devotee of the game, dear?" he asked in an affectionately tolerant tone.

She shrugged, resetting the pieces. "An adequate opponent. She might even be a real adversary some day if she tries." Standing up, she disappeared into the side room where Hancock had just been.

"Good to hear," Hancock called after her. He turned to address us, rubbing his hands together. "Nice job, bringing me that tape from Nick. It was exactly the information I needed to pin down the fuckers who decided to mess with Goodneighbor's residents, and by extension, me. And nobody... nobody messes with John Hancock." He pulled out a Jet inhaler from his jacket, taking a long drag. "Ahh, I needed that. Nice haircut, Sunshine. I assume Fahr gave you the delivery fee, yeah? Good."

Deep black eyes flicked back and forth between me and MacCready, an unsettling gaze to say the least. "So, what's next for you two? How's the search to get home going?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself to have this necessary, but potentially difficult, discussion with the person initially responsible for my staying alive at all, much less long enough to try and get home. MacCready put his arm around my shoulders in an encouraging manner, meeting Hancock's sudden intense gaze with a challenging look of his own. "It's... well, it's not," I stated, very simply.

Hancock sat up, all traces of affable relaxation gone in an instant. "Say that again, real slow-like. I'm pretty sure that's what you wanted when you first stumbled into Goodneighbor. And I, out of the goodness of my Ghoulish heart, went out of my way to help you get home. What happened?" His tone had gone steely, and I could feel MacCready tensing up, his hand gripping my shoulder reassuringly.