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Fahrenheit marks the passage of time in days and weeks between Glory's visits. The refractory periods between her visits are irregular, changing by the whims of some unseen higher-up, "Railroad-Alpha." A week, ten days, a fortnight: Glory comes and goes like summer storms, lingering for days or for hours before she disappears into the night.
(The longest drought was four months. Fahrenheit had begun to grieve when Glory showed up in the night, sliding into bed beside her like she'd never been gone at all. Didja miss me?, she’d said. Tears standing in her eyes, Fahrenheit had kissed her grinning lips.)
This time, she returns after twelve days. Fahrenheit's making the rounds, checking in with the squatters and drifters, and looking for trouble. She lacks Hancock's charisma and easy smiles, but the drifters afford her a certain wary respect, owing to her size and her scars and her big, fuck-off minigun. She hefts Ashmaker like it weighs nothing, her hard-earned muscle standing out underneath her fair skin.
She catches a glimpse of Glory out of the corner of her eye: her bleached white hair stark against her dark skin, her leather armor reinforced with hidden kevlar plates. She's leaning against a lamp post, a cigarette between her painted lips.
Fahrenheit lifts her hand in a wave, nods towards the Old State House. Glory tosses the still-smoldering butt into the gutter and returns the nod, a crooked grin spreading across her angular face. Hands in her pockets, she strolls towards the State House, easily cutting through the late afternoon crowd. Fahrenheit follows, twenty steps behind, excitement fluttering in her gut.
She's back, she's back, she's back!
"Hey girl," says Glory. "How've you been?" She's leaning against the wall in the foyer, her hands at her side, her feet shoulder-width apart. Fahrenheit goes in for a kiss, awkwardly holding Ashmaker out of the way.
"Good," she says. "Better now."
Glory pulls her closer and kisses her properly, not caring about the minigun's awkward bulk between them. She cups Fahrenheit's jaw in her broad, calloused hands, licking along her tongue and biting her lips. "I missed you," she whispers, sliding her hands along Fahrenheit's forearms. "Couldn't stay away any longer."
"Missed you too," says Fahrenheit. She pulls away slightly, but Glory chases her mouth, and their foreheads bump. Glory laughs like a gunshot, and Fahrenheit kisses her again, catching the other woman's bottom lip between her teeth, smearing her lipstick.
"Come on." Glory laughs again and pulls away, tugging at Fahrenheit's sleeve. "Let's head upstairs. Is the boss man in?"
"No," says Fahrenheit. "He's gone off after some Vaultie. Says he's in love."
"What, again?" Glory laughs and pushes off the way, leading Fahrenheit towards the rickety spiral staircase. "Whatever happened to that busker he was sweet on? Alvarez?"
"She got tired of being a kept woman and ran off with a raider boss," says Fahrenheit. "He took it pretty hard."
Glory winces sympathetically. then continues in an undertone. "But really, a Vaultie? Does our boy have a death wish?"
"No idea, but he axed Finn to impress them," says Fahrenheit. "He's got it pretty bad."
"Well that's obvious. A Vault-dweller, honestly." The stairs creak under their heavy tread, ancient wood groaning in protest. Between them, they're four hundred pounds of muscle and artillery, each of them armed and armored and openly carrying. Glory's left her minigun at home, but a well-oiled shotgun dangles from her fingers, free and easy. It's been modified to shoot irradiated rounds, and it is a sight to behold. Railroad's got some tech genius squirreled away in their hidden base, and he gives Glory all the shiniest toys.
Fahrenheit's room is at the end of the hall on the top floor. The door is locked and her hands are full of minigun, so Glory fishes the key from her Fahrenheit’s pocket, her hands lingering against her thighs. Fahrenheit closes her eyes to savor the contact, and the flutter of excitement in her belly turns to a spark. Her mouth goes dry and her nipples stand out sharp underneath her armor, rubbing against her cheap cotton undershirt.
She's barely through the door when she dumps Ashmaker onto the floor with a wall-shaking thud and turns on Glory. She attacks the other woman with her mouth, pressing her up against the wall and slotting her thigh between her legs, grinding up against her cock. Glory gasps and ruts against the contact, her hands flying up to settle on Fahrenheit's shoulders.
Fahrenheit kisses her throat and jaw, sucking bruises into her dark skin. Glory tastes like sweat and gunsmoke, peppery and metallic and sweet, and it's only been two weeks but it's been too long. Fahrenheit's hands wander across Glory's chest to tug at the straps and buckles of her standard-issue Railroad armor, unwinding her scarf to bare a few more inches of neck and throat.
"You're eager," says Glory, a playful edge in her voice. "How much did you miss me?"
"I'll show you," she says, panting against Glory's throat. "Come on. Help me with this."
"Alright, alright." Her hands are deft on the buckles. She strips easily, unselfconsciously, her armor falling away to reveal skin like varnished wood. She's dark and unblemished, flat chested and flat-stomached, muscular. She had been a Courser in a past life.
(G7-81 a string of numbers and letters whispered like a bitter confession against Fahrenheit's throat, they made me like this.
Yes, said Fahrenheit, kissing the top of her head, and you remade yourself in your own image.)
Glory feels no shame in her nudity, and Fahrenheit is quietly envious of her pride. She is scarred, physically and mentally: a long-ago fire marked out in vivid detail on her flesh and in her nerve endings. Glory, ever fearless, has mapped Fahrenheit's body with teeth and tongue, kissing trails from knee to groin to navel, has made rivers run down Glory's trembling legs. She is skillful and she is sweet, and Fahrenheit feels beautiful when she kneels between her spread legs to whisper praise against her sweat-slick skin.
Glory stands naked in front of Fahrenheit, grinning crookedly, her arousal plain between her legs. “See something you like?” she teases, hips cocked.
Fahrenheit devours her with her eyes and then her mouth, kissing bruises onto her collarbones and tugging the other woman towards the too-small bed. The mattress creaks and groans under their weight, and Fahrenheit cries out when Glory bites her neck, sharp teeth a counterpoint to the gentle hands tugging at her armor.
Eyes screwed shut, Fahrenheit lays back and lets the other woman undress her. Glory’s nimble fingers dance over the straps holding her heavy armor in place, peeling it away piece-by-piece. She dumps the armor onto the floor with a cascade of thuds and thumps, then undoes the buttons on her trousers and her flannel, laying Fahrenheit bare. She covers her exposed skin in hard kisses, raining bruises and bitemarks on her belly and thick thighs. Fahrenheit squirms and groans under Glory’s skillful hands and mouth, eager and panting.
She wriggles free and catches Glory’s wrists between her hands, flipping the other woman onto her back and pinning her in place. Flush with triumph, dirty red hair falling around her like a curtain, Fahrenheit grins. “Rook takes knight.”
Glory chuckles, looking up at Fahrenheit through her dark lashes. “Is that how we’re playing, love?” She wrests her arms free from Fahrenheit’s hold and surges upward, pressing her back against the brass headboard. She takes hold of Fahrenheit’s belt and winds it around her wrists, securing her hands to the headboard. “You have to play two moves ahead,” says Glory, lips hovering over the hollow of Fahrenheit’s throat. “Checkmate, beautiful.”
She licks a line down from Fahrenheit’s jaw to her breasts, smearing plum-colored lipstick across Fahrenheit’s collarbones. Her dark eyes locked on Fahrenheit’s, Glory catches one nipple between her teeth, the other between calloused fingers, and tugs. Fahrenheit cries out, and the other woman laughs low in her throat, tweaking her nipples and kneading her breasts. It hurts, but it’s a good pain, this encounter negotiated three weeks prior over warm, skunky beers in the Third Rail.
(I like it rough, Fahrenheit purred, sliding her hands up Glory’s thighs. Tie me down and let me feel your teeth.)
Glory’s mouth dips lower, warm and wet against Fahrenheit’s belly. “Fuck,” she says, running her hands over her Fahrenheit’s hips, “You look so good like this, babe. You should get a mirror in here, so you can see how pretty you are when you’re all tied up and spread out.” She sits up a little and slides down Fahrenheit’s body to settle between her thighs. “You blush with your whole body. You’re so pink, underneath all that armor.” Glory kisses Fahrenheit’s knee, teasingly gentle.
“Fuck you,” she gasps, wrapping her legs around Glory’s shoulders. “Lick me.”
She nips at Fahrenheit’s thigh, drawing a pained gasp. “No. I’m going to take my time with you, love. Don’t know when I’ll have this chance again.”
Fahrenheit whines, a high, keening note. Glory’s grin widens and she puts her hands on Fahrenheit’s knees, forcing her legs apart. She puts her mouth on her thighs, sucking hickeys into her pale flesh. Lips falling open, Fahrenheit looks down at her, and tries to urge the other woman along with gasps and moans. Her cunt is slick and flushed, throbbing from neglect, but Glory will not be deterred. She moves with aching slowness, stroking at the sensitive skin on the underside of Fahrenheit’s knees while she kisses her thighs. Glory marks Fahrenheit's skin with teeth and tongue, layering lipstick stains over blooming purple bruises, the colors achingly vivid against Fahrenheit’s pale thighs.
“Look at you,” Glory coos. “All marked up like that. Now everyone will know that you belong to me.” She runs her hands over the bruises, grinning lazily. “You bruise even prettier than you blush.”
She swallows a moan and Glory returns to her work. She bites again, and Fahrenheit howls, jerking at the belt looped ‘round her wrists. “Please,” she says, raggedly. “Please!”
“What do you want?” Another kiss, close-mouthed and sweet, pressed thoughtlessly to Fahrenheit's knee. “Use your words.”
Fahrenheit’s voice is ragged, worn thin like old flannel. “Want you to lick me,” she says. “Suck my clit. I need to come, Glory, please.”
Glory eats pussy like she does everything else: eagerly, messily, skillfully. Fahrenheit’s so wound up, she could have come from a whisper against her cunt, but Glory goes hard, alternating frantic licks and cheek-hollowing sucks. It’s too much all at once, and it tears a ragged scream from Fahrenheit’s bitten lips. She comes against the other woman’s mouth, a hot, wet rush of fluid across Glory’s lips and tongue.
The stimulation rapidly turns painful, and Glory pulls away when Fahrenheit whispers their safeword (molerat, she rasps, voice cracked like old leather). “You alright, babe?”
“Yeah,” says Fahrenheit. “Undo my wrists. My shoulders hurt.”
Glory moves to untie her, dick bumping against Fahrenheit’s chest. Freed from her bondage, Fahrenheit wraps her numb hands around Glory’s shaft, smirking at the other woman’s groan. “How’s that?”
“Good.” Glory swallows, spine curling forward. She puts her hands on the headboard, and her white hair falls forward to frame her pretty face. She’s a lovely sight, looming over Fahrenheit, lips pressed into a thin line. “Feels good.”
“Yeah?” She increases her speed, twisting her wrist on the upstroke. “Come for me, Glory. You treated me so good, I want to make you come.”
Glory groans, rocking her hips forward, fucking into Fahrenheit’s hands. The tendons stand out in her arms, fists clenching on the headboard as sweat rolls down her forehead. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, eyes screwed shut. She cried out suddenly, twitching in Fahrenheit’s grasp and painting her hand and belly with come.
Moving gingerly, Glory lays down beside Fahrenheit, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Love you,” she whispers.
Fahrenheit returns the kiss. “Love you, too. ‘M glad you’re here.”
“Happy just to be here,” Glory whispers. “It’s hard to be away for so long.”
“Duty calls,” said Fahrenheit, stroking Glory’s back. “I understand.”
Glory shivers and buries her face in the junction of Fahrenheit’s neck and shoulder. “I gotta head out tomorrow morning.”
“So soon?” says Fahrenheit, swallowing her disappointment.
“Yeah.” Another kiss, gentle and warm as summer rain. “Should be back soon, though. Just got to take care of some business down in the Fens.”
“There’s been Gunners out that way,” says Fahrenheit. “You heading in alone?”
“Nah. I’ve got a guy to watch my back. Sniper. Kind of a prick, but he’s reliable.”
“That’s good,” Fahrenheit murmurs. “Too much going on here; I can’t go rushing off to rescue you.”
Glory snorts. “As if! You try that, and I’ll just end up saving your ass from mutants.”
Fahrenheit hmm’d, her eyes fluttering shut. “Whatever you say, dear.”
Glory laughed again and kissed Fahrenheit’s cheek. “Goodnight, babe.”
“‘Night,” she said, and she drifted of to sleep with Glory’s arm around her waist and her fingers tangled in her hair.