The best way to heaven was through a huff of jet. That is after having a good fuck. That is after taking a hit of x-cell. Maybe the high after a good knife fight is up there too. Well shit, there were lots of good ways to get the sense of heaven, but jet was definitely somewhere up there.

Hancock inhaled the contents of the canister. He could feel time slow down as he took in every detail around him. Jet may not be the best way to heaven, but it was a damn good way. He closed his eyes to enjoy the stretched-out seconds of relaxation.

A security guard slowly walked into the office. The sound of each step took impossibly long after the one before it. “Hey, Boss,” the guard stretched out. “Someone is here to see you.”

Hancock popped open his eyes, every millimeter his eyelids separated from each other was a new sensation. “Who is it?” he asked, it sounded so drawn out that he wondered if the guard understood him.

The guard looked confused for a moment, he seemed to be trying to figure out what Hancock said. Then he responded, “It’s that skinny” suddenly he started talking faster “bodyguard chick you like to see.”

The worst part of jet is when it wears off and suddenly the world is moving too fast. “Send her in,” Hancock insisted. As he watched the guard walk off, he realized that the second worst part of jet hit him. He suddenly felt less agile than he was used to. The addiction effect was a motherfucker, especially if it hit during a fight. He started shifting through his paraphernalia trying to find some addictol.

“Mayor Hancock,” Marian’s Gwinnet smooth voice sounded out. She sounded like she was ready for business but was not out to take charge. That was good, Hancock needed her ready for the job he had.

“Marian Halcombe, a woman always lovely to see,” Hancock grabbed a tin of mentats and offered them to Marian.

Marian rose a hand to politely refused, “Addictol is a bitch to find.”

“Suit yourself,” Hancock responded before consuming the tin’s contents himself. “Please, take a seat. How have you been?”

Marian unloaded her backpack and placed it on the floor as she took a seat on another part of the couch with Hancock. She rested the assault rifle she called Faenus on the floor, placing a foot over it. Hancock admired her dedication to remain touching her weapon at all times, it showed that she wasn’t going to let someone slip it away from her while her guard is down.

“I have been stressed,” Marian explained as she helped herself to a bottle of beer on his coffee table. “I have been hearing rumors that some of the factions in the Capital Wasteland are starting to shoot civilians.”

“I thought you said that was why you decided to come here in the first place,” Hancock accused.

Marian looked down at her beer for a moment. It was obvious she wished she could leave everything about The Capital Wasteland behind. “Three Dog was associated with the Brotherhood of Steel. He allied himself with them over a decade ago, it was a mutual assistance thing. It didn’t take much for one group to accuse him of allying himself with another. I didn’t bother to stay around long enough to sort out those details, and I probably never will have enough information to do so now. The rumors I’m hearing now are that the Brotherhood are shooting random civilians.”

“How much do you believe those rumors?” Hancock asked.

Marian thought for a bit, she sipped on her beer as she mulled over possibilities. “There is a chance that it is happening, members of the Monroe and Johnson families are for the most part very elitist against civilians. If anyone would start opening fire on human civilians, it would be them. I can’t find any details in the rumors, so I’m going more with the idea that this started as a territorial dispute between two clans, a civilian probably got injured or killed by a stray laser, and the story took off from there.”

“What if it’s ghouls who are being killed?” Hancock asked as he shot some daddy-o into his veins.

Marian looked straight at Hancock with so much pain in her eyes he wished he hadn’t brought it up. “You know as well as I do that could be almost any family if it’s ghouls being killed. I’m not ready to entertain that idea yet.”

He could have gotten information from someone else, but she was his best bet at figuring out what was going on. She knew the Capital Wasteland as well as MacCready did, but she was better at abstract ideas than he was.

“I want to entertain that idea,” Hancock pushed. “If ghouls are being shot at, what would happen?”

Marian thought again for a moment. “The biggest concentration of ghouls is in the Underworld, so if someone is out to shoot them for the sake of shooting ghouls, that’s where they would start. The Lincoln, Wilson, and Adams families are all neutral on ghouls, they don’t see ghouls as monsters, but they don’t see them as full people either. They would probably let ghouls into their territories and make them work like animals. The Lincoln family might even give them collars. The Harding family would be their best bet. They are willing to accept ghouls as people and might even let them into their ranks. I don’t know where territories are divided, but if any of those four families have a far Northern Territory, that would be where a mass exodus of ghouls would start on the way up here.”

The thoughts of what might be going on back at her home were obviously taking a toll on Marian. She looked like she was torn between crying and disassociating.

“Here,” Hancock said handing her a canister of jet, “looks like you could use a pick me up.”

Marian accepted the jet with a pained smile. “Thanks,” the bald woman said. She took in a huff of the jet and coughed. “That wasn’t jet.”

“Damnit!” Hancock declared. “That was my last canister of addictol! Here, try this one.”

Marian chuckled as she accepted the new canister. “How do you tell the difference between your addictol and jet anyway?”

“Normally I put the addictol in special place, I guess I failed this time. Are you hungry? You enjoy that canister, I’ll have some food sent to us.”

As Marian inhaled the jet, apparently forgetting her earlier misgivings about addiction, Hancock stood up and opened his office door.

“Go down to the Third Rail and have two meals sent up here,” Hancock ordered one of the guards. As the guard hurried off to follow orders, Hancock returned to the couch, glad to see Marian looking more relaxed. “Better?”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Thank you,” she responded. “I sometimes forget how liberating it is to worry about tomorrow like I’m going to see it.”

“You would be surprised how many opportunities it opens up for you,” Hancock joked.

“I haven’t had a chance to thank you for telling me about the library,” Marian said.

“It’s a very impressive place.” Hancock allowed the conversation to change. Marian needed to focus on something other than politics back home.

“You did neglect to tell me about the intercom trick,” she admonished. “I almost took on a pack of super mutants to get in.”

“Sorry about that, I normally only go to the library when I have a screamer with me.”

Marian was silent for a second as she obviously was trying to figure out what Hancock was saying. “Classy,” she finally responded. “Lucky for me, your buddy was hounding me at the time.”

“Nick? That doesn’t sound like him,” Hancock responded. He was worried about what may have happened since the last time he spoke to Marian.

“He found out I was bringing clients to his office and took offence,” Marian explained. That did sound like him. “That self-righteous prick thought I was the kind of person who would take advantage of people in need!” Marian suddenly was becoming more animated. “He’s the one who charges people who are begging for help. It’s like somehow he feels that isn’t worth finding someone who may be dying unless there’s enough money in it.”

“I don’t think Nick…” Hancock started, but Marian was letting out an obviously pent-up rant.

“The worst part is he’s the only game in town!” Marian continued. “So, he can literally charge people anything. People will pay anything to make sure their family is safe, so Nick can charge millions of caps if he wanted, it wouldn’t matter. And to top it all off, I’m bringing him more business, and he has the audacity to get offended by it.”

Hancock felt like he was losing control of the conversation. He needed to bring it back into his control. “Nick isn’t the only game in town,” he quietly explained as he handed her some buffout.

Marian suddenly went silent. Her face fell and Hancock could feel her righteousness evaporate like jet from a poorly sealed canister. “What?” the only word that came from her.

“There are other options. The Minutemen are good at retrieving people who are being held hostage by raiders,” Hancock forgot Marian didn’t know the Commonwealth the way someone who had lived there more than a month or two would.

“Then why do so many people ask me to walk them to Nick? If all they have to do is call the Minutemen, they won’t even be charged for that help.”

“Because Nick is the best,” Hancock had to stand up for his old friend.

Marian was silent, her face went blank as two of her worldviews conflicted with each other. She downed the buffout. Hancock waited patiently as she processed this new information. He understood that she wanted the world to be simple. There were times when she would try to force herself into a black and white thinking. Absolutism was not a good look for her though. This was one time he could not allow it.

“So, he really can charge as much as he wants?” Marian was starting to look sick as the revelation settled on her. “That means he could charge people everything. And I’ve been bringing people to him.”

Hancock cringed at how wrong she was in her conclusion. He knew Marian didn’t like Nick, but she seemed to be coming up with excuses to hate him. “He could if wanted to,” he confirmed, “but do you think I would be friends with someone who would do that?”

“I’m not sure,” she was honest in her answer, “from what I can tell you make friends with whomever you think can help you benefit your ends.”

“Does that upset you?” Hancock asked.

“It should,” she answered as if she was trying to find the anger, she thought she should feel. “That’s just politics shouldn’t be carte blanc for the politician; but I’ve seen Good Neighbor, and I’ve heard what people say about you. I know you’re using me, but I can console myself on the idea that you’re doing it for the greater good.” She raised her eyes and looked straight into his, “Please do not disillusion me.”

Absolutism may not be a good look on her, but naïve cynic was a heartbreaking look. Hancock considered changing the tactics to his game, it wasn’t too late to change, but this was the best way to get the results he wanted.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” Hancock called out. The guard entered the room carrying the two mirelurk omelets and two beers. Hancock stood up to meet the guard and accepted the food before dismissing the guard then returned to give Marian her meal. He only had so much time before the mentats wore off.

The food was barely in front of her before Marian was digging in. Hancock wondered if he should take something else to help his intelligence, he forgot he was giving her all these chems on an empty stomach. He sat back on his side of the couch and ate his food at a slower pace.

“Nick doesn’t charge as much as you think,” Hancock told her.

Marian swallowed the food that was in her mouth. “He charges nine-hundred ninety-nine caps instead of a thousand for each case?” The sarcasm was almost indistinguishable from Nick’s.

Hancock decided he really was going to continue his original plan, damn the consequences. “No, he charges mostly to pay the bills,” Hancock explained. “He’s lucky when he comes out even a job. Most people don’t even pay him for his work.”

Marian was silent again; she was probably trying to take in this new information. Hancock decided he gave her too much to challenge how she felt about Nick for one day.

“I do have a job for you,” he finally told her.

“What are the details?” Marian asked. She sat back from her empty plate and was nursing the beer.

“I want you to guard someone while he does a job for me. It will be several days, starting tomorrow,” Hancock explained.

“That’s good and vague,” she said.

“I know it is,” he admitted, “I want to give both of you the details tomorrow at the same time. I have a feeling you two would have the same questions and it will be easier to answer them once.”

Marian thought for a moment. “I have some friends in Quincy. When I left, they were talking about setting up a settlement here. They will need some basics. Give them what they need, and you have a deal.”

Her obvious trust in him not short-changing her made Hancock almost feel guilty with how much faith she was showing him. He did have to admit, she was trying to negotiate with almost no information about the upcoming job. “I will provide based on the duration and difficulties of the job,” Hancock agreed. “I also want you to be able to complete the job. I’m giving you free reign of Good Neighbor until you leave on the job tomorrow. Go ahead and ask for anything you need; you can put it on my tab.”

Marian started looking into the middle distance, it was always obvious when she was doing calculations. Hancock wondered how she survived this long with such a horrible poker face.

“I can’t plan properly,” she finally told him. “I need an idea of how long I will be on this job.”

Bless this woman and her strictly self-enforced personal rules. Hancock would love to break her of these self-limiting rules, but he was less than a day away from destroying that opportunity. “Plan for a week,” he told her. “You can consider anything left as a tip.”

Marian blessed Hancock with one of her easy, grateful smiles. Every time he saw her smile like that, he felt like the most benevolent ghoul in the world. He couldn’t help but smile back at her, even if a smile that big did cause him some pain. He was conversely feeling like the biggest heel in the world for the same reason.

“I’m going to have to kick you out now,” Hancock told her. “I do have a lot of work to do. I hope to see you the same time tomorrow.”

“Of course,” she responded. Marian got up and collected her things. Hancock couldn’t help but notice that her backpack seemed to be thinner than the last time he saw it. His heart dropped at the implications of this. “See you tomorrow.” She then walked out of Hancock’s office and into his spiderweb.

He knew she wasn’t going to take more than she needed for seven days’ worth of work. She probably had the exact amount for a routine job planned out already.

Hancock wondered for a moment if she would even come back to Good Neighbor after this job. Then he thought about how she liked to talk about books with Daisy, or how she would describe them to MacCready. It was always obvious when she was talking about books, it was when she was most animated, sometimes with complete reenactments. He would find a way to convince her to come back.

The thought comforted Hancock as he felt his mentats wear off. He was glad Marian never accepted those mentats when he offered them, she would probably have seen right through him if she had. He checked his stash to make sure he still had enough left. He was going to need to be the smartest person in the room tomorrow, and that was going to take all the intellect he could muster. He did still need this job to be done, even if it was going to cost him personally to get it done.