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Gravel and Timber

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“Lotta synths here.” Hancock commented slamming his hand onto the elevator button.

“Yeah, I mean I don’t blame the ones that just wanna live out their lives in peace, but these ones…” Margo shivered.

“You ain’t wrong sister, these things are all nuts and bolts and basic programming.”

“Where’s Danse?” Hancock chuckled,

“His big ass wouldn’t fit in the elevator, he took the stairs.” He paused leaning against the metal wall. “You think this Brotherhood thing is a good idea?” Margo sighed heavily,

“I dunno if anything I do is a good idea, Hancock.”He raised a brow at her tone. “Sorry John, I’m just – I’m just so fucking tired.” She snorted raking a hand through her ginger hair. “You would think after 200 years in cryo I wouldn’t be, but I am.” He eyed her carefully, her drifters outfit was dusty from the trek over to ArcJet, she looked wrecked.

“So when we’re done here, we’ll go back to Sanctuary and you can rest.” She looked up at him over her glasses, then pushed them up her nose.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead John.” She shifted, her shoes were two sizes too big and they hurt, she’d stuffed her battered fedora in her pack when they’d entered the building. The pack was heavy, filled with ammo, medical supplies, and her favorite guns.

That was one thing she was proud of, her gun mods. She kept her favourite ones on her at all times. A 10mm pistol; Raul, she’d called it, a combat shotgun; Charon, a sniper rifle called Hellfire, a massive baseball bat with a saw blade attached; Black Betty, a cryo fitting stun baton, Elsa and a stealth serrated blade combat knife which she’d secretly named The John Hancock. The ghoul had laughed when she’d mentioned naming her weapons, to which she’d responded, you had to appreciate the things that saved your life on a daily basis. He’d responded that she must appreciate the hell out of him then. Smirking at the fond memory she watched Hancock light a cigarette,

“What do ya think about Danse?” He asked casually, she raised her eyebrow, trying to determine if he was fishing or asking simply out of interest. Hancock was a hard man to read, it both thrilled and annoyed her. Every casual flirting remark had brought her to boiling point, she was a stubborn woman but even she had her limits.

“Yeah he’s alright, he’s smart but he has too much…” skin “ummm…” she fumbled for something to say as dark eyes studied her intently, “I dunno blind trust, yeah, in the Brotherhood, I guess, I dunno it’s hard to explain.” Smoke drifted out of his nasal cavity.

“Hmmm.” She snuck a looked at him, he was staring at the wall,

“Your thoughts?” A shoulder came up and back down.

“I-” Suddenly the elevator lurched violently throwing her into the wall next to him.

“What the fluffy duck was that?” Hancock snorted,

“Fluffy duck?” The lights in the elevator turned red,

“Fuck. What the fuck.” She corrected looking at him. That adorable smirk was plastered on his face. “Shut up Hancock, I never swore around my son, I had to find other ways to express it. Old habits die hard alright?” He continued to smirk,

“Elevator’s dead, sister.” She was filled with dread,

“No, no I can fix it.” Margo dropped her pack, pulling out a screwdriver. She turned to the panel, almost prying the rusty metal off its hinges. Watching out the corner of her eye, she saw Hancock slide to the floor, long legs stretched out before him. He tipped his head back and placed his hat over his eyes, she turned and saw his adams apple bounce as he swallowed. Her mouth suddenly went dry, she swallowed hard and turned to focus on the electrics inside the panel.

After 10 minutes she began to panic, “No no no! Sugar honey iced tea – I mean – shit!… Not a word John.” She looked over at him sprawled out on the floor. His road leathers fit like a second skin and God help her she wanted to peel them off and see what was underneath. She shook the thoughts from her head as he tipped the hat up with a thumb.

“What?” She gave him a look, “I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, but you were thinkin’ it.” She pushed her glasses up with her fingers, he glanced up at her. Grease was smudged across her porcelain skin. He swallowed hard as he thought of all the things he would do to that skin, he reached for the pack of cigarettes and lit another.

Stuck in such a small place with such a desirable woman was not doing much for his nerves. Margo pulled her hands out of the switch box. “It’s useless doll, there’s no power, the elevator won’t work without it.”

“Motherfucking titty sucking piece of shit!” She punctuated the last word with a vicious kick to the door. She paced frantically pulling at her hair with her hands. “I – I can’t be stuck in here, no no no! Shit!” She kicked the wall breathing hard.

Alarm bells rang inside Hancock’s head. “You ok Margo?” She was hyperventilating now.

“Ever since – the – cryo chamber – I – small spaces – I can’t breathe!” Fully concerned now John tugged on her trouser leg.

“Hey.” He caught her hand on her next lap of the small space. Pulling her gently down beside him, he wrapped an arm around her. “Hey now, it’s ok I’m here, don’t worry I’ll take care of ya doll.” She closed her eyes taking deep breaths. “That’s it deep breaths, you’re ok.” He murmured soothingly. She smiled,

“Keep talking John. Your voice – it’s helping.”

“What do you want me to say?” She shrugged leaning into him,

“Tell me a story, anything.” Hancock racked his brains,

“Uhhh, ok, sure.” He cleared his throat, Margo flushed, it was all gravel and timber. She loved that sound. “Once upon a time…” Margo snorted,


“Who’s telling this story?” She nudged him gently, “Alright, there was this girl see? She was a tiny slip of a thing, smart, brave, funny. She could scrap like she was born to do it, but she was also kind, selfless, a woman like this world had never seen.” Margo sighed happily feeling his voice wash over her, calming her. “One day she came to a town, a place where the misfits lived, and she met a man. This bloke was a bit different, but she never held that against him like others would. She offered to let him come with her on her great journey and they did amazing things, things this bloke was honoured to be a part of.”

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Hancock was staring at the opposite wall, deep in his story. “The woman was beautiful, oh man was she fucking gorgeous. Flawless skin, hair like fire and the cutest little button nose. Big expressive brown eyes, like somethin’ outta a cartoon.” Margo’s heart sped up. “But she was married see, and the bloke that was traveling with her respected that. He’d been murdered and it tore the woman up, ’cause even though 10 years had passed, to her it felt like just yesterday.”

Margo reached a trembling hand up to Hancock’s face. “John.” She whispered, he turned to her puzzled. He ran through in his mind what he had said.

“Shit, Margo – I -”

“Nate would’ve wanted me to be happy,” she breathed, “you make me happy.” He didn’t have time to even formulate a response because those plump lips were on his and his heart was soaring.

He thrust a hand in her hair, as she clambered onto his legs. His mind was reeling, she gasped as he pushed his tongue into her mouth to curl against hers. Squeezing her thighs around his, she moaned wantonly as he grabbed at her breasts.

John’s cock filled so quickly at that sound it made him dizzy. He shifted to lie down on the cold floor only to discover the surface wasn’t big enough, groaning he tore his mouth from hers, “Up.” Margo lifted herself reluctantly and stepped back. He was beside her in seconds, crowding her into the wall, rough hands boxing her in. His dark eyes were filled with lust, she bit her lip as she flushed all over. “Fucking gorgeous.” He murmured, voice an octave lower than usual, she shivered.

They stared at each other for a moment longer before the tension between them snapped like a wire and they collided with a passionate kiss. Her fingers ripped at the zip on his leathers, she shoved the jacket aside and thrust her hands under the t-shirt beneath. Her nails scraped along his abdomen, it tore a low, almost feral growl from his throat.

His own questing fingers found her coat shoving it back, hands crawling underneath her battered shirt to palm her tits. She moaned into his mouth and Jesus Christ that was just the most fucking perfect sound. He pulled his hands back fumbling with his pants, she mirrored his actions her huge jeans dropping loudly to the floor, stepping out of them. She leaned back against the wall, making a pleased sound as he freed his aching member.

He crowded her back against the wall grasping her thighs and hoisting her up. Wrapping her short legs around waist she placed a tiny hand around his cock, it was thick and covered in the same patchy skin as the rest of him. She pumped it up and down slowly, watching in fascination as his head lolled back and a gravely whine came from his throat.

He started thrusting in time with her strokes, she leaned forwards mouthing his neck. She pushed her panties aside and positioned his cock against her wet entrance. On the next stroke she let go, feeling him fill her. Hancock instantly grew still,

“Fuck!” She was wet and hot and tight and he was sure he’d gone to heaven. Panting heavily he felt her squeeze around him, he thrust forwards instinctively. Margo’s head hit the wall with a thump as she arched, he filled her so completely, she was utterly undone. Hancock latched onto her neck and began to move.

Sensations overwhelmed her, the feeling of his rough hands squeezing her ass, his skillful mouth on her neck, his cock thrusting at an almost brutal pace. She felt it in her core, the orgasm rushing up to meet her. They were both so lost in each other they never noticed the elevator lurching to life.

“Margo,” Hancock groaned, “come for me dollface.” That tone was what did it. She came undone, almost screaming his name. Spots danced behind his eyes as she squeezed around him, he thrust once, twice then spilled into her with a feral roar.

The elevator was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing.

“Fuck me!” She exclaimed, panting. A warm chuckle drifted to her ear,

“Just did.” She slid down his long limbs and landed on wobbly legs, her pants sat in a heap next to her, she stepped into the and hoisted them up. Hancock stretched lazily, she eyed his softening member and smirked. He leaned against the wall with one arm, kissing her softly. She opened her mouth to speak as they came up for air.

The elevator dinged and the doors parted, revealing Danse waving a fusion core.

“Sorry guys, stole the fusion core for my suit, didn’t realise the elevator needed it to – Oh my God!” He took in the scene before him, Margo looked thoroughly disheveled and Hancock…

He looked down and quickly averted his eyes. Looking at the embarrassed Paladin over his arm, Hancock chuckled, causally reaching downing and tucking himself back in his pants. Danse cleared his throat,

“I’ll just – uhhh – wait outside.” He turned to stride across the room. “There is not enough Abraxo Cleaner in the world to scrub that image from my mind.” He muttered. Laughter followed him out into the fresh air.

“Well that could’ve gone better.” Margo blushed.

“Really? I think that went swimmingly.” She pushed him lightly, then pecked him on the mouth.

“I think you were right. We should go home after this. We need a break.” Hancock smirked,

“Yeah,” he gave her the once over, making Margo shiver, “I can think of a few things that need our special attention. Come on.” Margo shook her head and followed him out.

Her life was crazy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.