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It was precariously close to noon before the caravan rounded the bend near the Red Rocket and was visible from Sanctuary’s walls. Calls sounded from those on watch, rousing Sawyer from the workbench she’d spent half the morning tinkering at, hoping to distract her rising heart rate. She scrubbed most of the grease from her hands with a nearby rag, pulled on her Atom Cats jacket, and grabbed her super sledge from the bench.
Her heart felt like it was about to beat right out of her chest while at the same time slowly taking up residence in her throat. A deep fortifying breath did absolutely nothing. It wasn’t until MacCready had pulled her head down for a kiss that she no longer felt like she was breathing through molasses.
“You ready?” she breathed against his mouth, pressing in for another kiss.
“Are you? You look like you’re about to pass out,” he said, catching her bottom lip with his teeth.
Two steps had him up against the wall of their home, sledge forgotten on the ground, and she went about pressing increasingly heated kisses to his mouth, chin, and neck. His fingers dug into her hips and pulled her closer, trapping his obvious interest between them with a groan. Everything but the comforting buzz in the back of her skull fell away as she tilted his head back to assault his mouth with tongue and teeth, growling over the needy whine he wasn’t able to stifle.
“Sorry to intrude, mum, but the caravan has arrived at the gates.” Codsworth’s voice cut through the haze and she pulled back from MacCready blinking and breathing heavily against his mouth.
“I’ll be right there. I'm sure they can wait a minute,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Codsworth.
“Of course, mum.”
She turned back to MacCready to see him grinning at her, grip still strong and sure on her hips. With a laugh she rubbed away some lipstick at the corner of his mouth and grinned right back. They could continue this later. Although, if he made that noise at the back of his throat again the caravan would be waiting longer than just a minute.
“It’s time for your surprise,” she whispered against his ear before stepping away.
With a shake to clear her head, she made her way to the gate, grabbing the handle of her super sledge and swinging it up onto one shoulder along the way. Behind her MacCready took in a deep breath, adjusted himself, and followed along behind her and to the right, rifle in hand. Ahead of them she could see the caravan leader blustering angrily at Preston and Codsworth, gesturing at his cargo then out to the wastes. Oh, if he thought he could play that game he had another thing coming.
As soon as the man caught sight of her strolling up, lazy, menacing smirk sitting comfortably on her face, he paled and stepped back, adjusting his clothing and stance in a bid to look non-threatening. Something that was becoming an increasingly common occurrence in the Commonwealth. MacCready snorted, amused, behind her. Even Preston looked amused, standing to the side with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Ah, you must be Sawyer,” the man started, managing not to stumble over his words.
“Mmm, yeah, that'd be me. You must be the one Daisy told me about. She says you're trustworthy, but we'll see.” The threat that if he wasn’t he’d lose a lot of business hung heavy in the air between them.
The man swallowed, eyes flicking to the side nervously; whether in regards to his trustworthiness, or because of her, was hard to determine.
“Harry,” he said, extending his hand to her. When she just glanced at it but didn't move he pulled it back with a nervous cough. “Yes, well, your package is back this way.”
With a signal for everyone to stay back she followed Harry to the middle wagon, the one guarded by twice as many mercenaries as the other two. A head of fluffy, sand-colored hair and a face full of freckles greeted her as she rounded the side. The boy looked up quickly, eyes flickering with something when he saw Harry, but it gave way to curiosity when he saw her.
“You can leave now,” she said to Harry and the guards.
Harry's spluttered protests were met with Sawyer’s hard stare until he stuttered out an apology and hightailed it back to the front wagon. The guards, her guards, nodded and moved away to await the rest of their payment. Dust kicked up and blew away in the slight breeze as she dropped her sledge to the ground a second time. A warm smile spread across her face as she crouched in front of the boy, letting her hands dangle between her knees.
“Hey Duncan, my name’s Sawyer. Your dad’s just over there,” she gestured toward the front of the caravan, “but I need you to answer some questions first. Okay?”
Duncan seemed to think it over for a moment before nodding, the gesture so much like his father’s that her smile grew.
“Thank you. Did you get enough food and water on the trip?” She made sure her voice was soft, soothing, so he wouldn’t feel like he might be in trouble for his answers.
Even with that, though, he bit his lip and glanced in the direction Harry had gone, then looked down at his hands in his lap. His voice, when he spoke, was soft, like he was afraid of being overheard, “I got fed.”
With one hand she tipped his head to look at her and shook her head. “I need the truth, Duncan. I’m bigger and scarier than that overgrown radroach, so don’t you worry about him.”
He giggled at that. When he spoke this time he looked right at her, “I got fed. Mr. Tate said we were low on rations, so he only gave me a little bit two times a day.” He paused then and glanced at the guards. “They shared their food when I got hungry.”
Sawyer kept her face neutral even as the heat of anger was trying to claw up her throat. “How about staying warm at night?”
He glanced away again before physically shaking himself and reaching back to pull out a ratty little bit of cloth that could barely be considered a blanket. “Mr. Tate said it wasn’t that cold out. But,” and he looked over at the guards again, “the guards on night watch let me use their stuff so I was warm.”
Anger at Harry and gratitude toward the guards warred in her gut. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that Harry was an ill-tempered molerat the whole trip and my guards were the only ones who treated you well. That sound about right?”
Duncan only hesitated a moment before nodding, flashing her a gap-toothed grin.
“Well I’m glad you’re here, but I bet you’re ready to see your dad so let’s go.”
Sawyer helped Duncan off the wagon, then pulled all of his belongings to sit in a pile for Codsworth to carry home. She stepped around the wagon first, grabbing MacCready’s attention, before gently tugging Duncan into view. MacCready froze, eyes wide, glancing between her and his son repeatedly until his brain finally seemed to catch up and he stumbled forward several steps.
“Duncan?” MacCready’s voice broke and she could see him fighting back tears.
“Daddy!” Duncan tore out of her grip and launched himself into his father’s waiting arms.
She smiled then—wide, happy, content—watching MacCready cradle Duncan’s face in his neck, tears falling freely down his face. As much as she wanted to go to them she refrained, instead taking a deep breath and scooping up her sledge.
“Strong!” she called out, stepping over to the guards to shake hands with their leader. “My thanks for keeping him safe. Dixon, right? I hear the caravan master was less than accommodating?”
“That’s right, ma’am. With what yer payin’ us I can’t believe you ain’t payin’ him comparable, so I ain’t sure why he weren’t better ‘bout his,” Dixon stuttered a moment, stance stiffening as Strong loomed up behind her, ”duties. No worries, though, we made sure the boy weren’t lackin’.”
“Good. I think that deserves a bonus, don’t you?” she said, turning to rest a hand on Strong’s arm, “For keeping MacCready’s son safe.”
“Protect Mack Ree Dee family? Big bonus,” Strong replied, relaxing his stance at her touch.
“Exactly what I was thinking. Could you show them to the armory? Two suits should be sufficient. And the rest of their caps are in the yellow toolbox.”
Strong grunted in approval and moved further into the settlement. After a brief moment the mercenaries turned to follow with a shrug. When Sawyer glanced back toward the caravan, Harry was pale as a ghost, watching the super mutant walk away with wide eyes.
“If you think Strong is scary, I’m sure you don't want to meet Angora,” she said, strolling back to him, running her fingers lightly over MacCready’s shoulders as she passed.