Chapter Text
From the stuttering of her breathy moans and the feel of her inner muscles beginning to clench around him, he knew she was close. He only had to hold out just a few more moments. To distract himself from coming too soon, he focused on running his fingers down the smooth expanse of her back to her undulating hips as she rode him, watching her shiver at the touch of his rough hands. Her own hands on his chest flexed, her nails lightly biting into his scarred skin, and she let out a sharp cry as she fell over the edge into orgasmic bliss.
He gripped her around the waist and pushed up, finally ready to let himself go.
"Edwa-ah! Edward!" she panted, staring down at him with those jewel-blue eyes.
He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn't break the rhythm. Just... a moment... more, and...
He pulled her down hard against him as he came, feeling more than hearing her gasp as he filled her. One hand remaining firmly clamped just above the swell of her hip, he reached up with the other to grab her around the back of the neck and bring her down to crush his lips against hers.
"Love-- I love--"
A sharp rapping noise caused Deegan to jerk awake, his eyes snapping open.
"Master Deegan, it is six o'clock in the morning," Sebastian's muffled voice called through the bedroom door. "Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes, sir."
"Fine," Deegan groaned, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his face.
For a moment, the vision of Nora above him flashed across his mind's eye. "Love-- I love--" He didn't know which of them had said it.
It didn't matter; it was just a dream.
He looked over at the opposite side of the bed.
It had been nearly a month since the last time she'd come to Cabot House, spending a week with him to "help" him during his heat. As much as he hated his inescapable biological failings, those handful of days with her had been... well, incredible. And not just the sex. For an entire week, she was with him. Waking up beside him. Sharing meals with him. Touching and letting him touch.
It couldn't last, he knew. Nora was the General of the Minutemen, and while the militia had grown to become a strong policing force in the Commonwealth, she was still the one called upon the most when there was trouble in the settlements under her protection. Always someone somewhere needing help with something, she had said. He was lucky that he got to keep her for as long as he did.
It didn't stop him from missing her. From reaching out, half-asleep, to her side of the bed at night.
Her side of the bed? He shook his head. "Got it bad, old man," he grumbled to himself. Two and a half centuries, he did feel old. Much too old to be pining after a woman not even a fifth his age.
Except she really wasn't, his treacherous inner thoughts reminded him.
He shouldn't be thinking about this, he snapped at himself as he pushed out of bed and headed toward the en-suite for a shower. Sebastian would be coming back soon to hound him about breakfast getting cold, and he really wasn't in the mood to deal with the Mr. Handy's newfound ability to pout -- a recent personality quirk that showed up hours after Nora had left the last time.
Forcing himself to think about other things, he bathed, dried, and dressed quickly.
There were a number of tasks he really should work on today. The inventory for the Cabots' household possessions and their vast supply bunker had finally been catalogued. Some of it he could sell off, but the majority would probably just sit around collecting dust for another couple of centuries. Might as well break it down for firewood at this point, he mused. It would never be worth anything to anyone ever again.
As he finished pulling his boots on there was another knock to the bedroom door.
"That was less than twenty minutes," he called out, annoyed.
"Quite right, Master Deegan," Sebastian said, sounding much more chipper than before. "And I do apologize for interrupting your morning routine, but Miss Nora is calling for you on the radio, sir."
Huh? She had never done that before.
Opening the door and pushing past the robot butler, he hurried out of the room. He took the stairs down two at a time before vaulting over the handrail to land next to the sideboard holding the shortwave radio. Normally softly buzzing with static interference, it was oddly quiet, it's glowing yellow light indicating it had connected with an outside frequency.
Picking up the microphone, he pressed the button. "Cabot House."
"Edward, darling," came the slightly distorted response, and his chest felt suddenly tight. He'd missed the sound of her voice more than he'd realized. "I'm so sorry to bother you this early in the morning, but I couldn't wait any longer." He wanted to believe that maybe it was because she had been missing him, too, but he knew better by her tone.
Despite knowing something had to be wrong, he couldn't stop himself from hoping anyway. "You're never a bother, sweetheart. What's the matter?"
"Raiders have infested Parsons again and have begun terrorizing the surrounding settlements."
Damn.
Even through the radio distortion, her voice became gentler. "I know that it's not your responsibility anymore and I really don't want to ask you, but I can't clear out the whole facility alone. You know the layout better than anyone else. Please--"
"All right." She didn't even have to ask. He didn't want her going anywhere near the asylum without him. "I'm coming to you. Where are you?" He hoped she was at least somewhere safe. Even at a dead run, it'd take the better part of a day to get to Parsons.
"It's a place called the Slog."