#drabble based on pre-war actress sole survivor prompt!

[whatanightmaregrinch]

Deacon x Fem!Sole Survivor- abraxo baby

[[ This is a short drabble based on a prompt i’d seen of Sole being a pre-war actress, i fell in love with the idea tbh sORRY]]                                                          -- “Is that?-” Deacon’s voice suddenly cut through the silence they’d been walking in. Sole glanced in his direction, to see his head craned up at a billboard they were under. At first glance, it just seemed like an old Pre-War advertisement for Abraxo Cleaner, but she recognised her own figure on the board. Her heart raced slightly, seeing her own faded, and aged eyes staring back at her, but bigger than she ever would be. She was holding the blue box tightly, smiling brightly at the Commonwealth, just urging them to buy it to clean their clothes with. She could almost hear the RobCo representative repeatedly reassuring her that the advertisement would be gone by the end of the month, replaced by some new car ad. So much for that, you old bastard. Her heart panged at the window into the life she was trying to forget. “Nah, it’s my cousin.” She said, maybe a little too quickly because it had Deacon arch his brow in mild surprise at her bare-faced lie. He pondered it in silence for a moment, stopping a second too long for Sole’s liking, who turned on her heel and continued to walk in the direction of their original destination, leaving him in the dust. An amused expression played his features as he quickened his pace; just enough to catch up, but not to console her. To tease. “Cousin, huh? Just looks an awful lot like-” He started, but she hushed him, flapping her hand at him as if to waft him away. “That’s the thing about family, Deacon. Tend to look similar.” His amused mood turned downright gleeful, a shit-eating grin spread on his face at her deferral of him. “Ah, well, I worked with them, you know before the Great War? They had such strange demands; she couldn’t act without being covered in Sugar Bombs prio-” “ I wasn’t like that.” She said hotly, furious- head snapping to his direction to set him straight, before her heart stuttered. There was a silence between the two of them, Deacon’s teeth visible in his winsome grin; victorious in the knowledge he’d won. She stared at him incredulously, eyes slightly bulged in anger and shock, before she dissolved into an embarrassed quiet. He’d played her. He took the silence as they walked as her permission to ask about it.  “What was it like? Bet you got everything you ever wanted back then.” He wondered, and she just shook her head.  “I took whatever I could get, that being one of them.” She gestured to the billboard further down the road with a thumb. He mulled it over in his head, eyes scanning the horizon for hostiles as they travelled. He tried to concentrate on his surroundings, but couldn’t help but be drawn into the conversation. You can’t just dangle information like that in front of him and expect him not to ask questions.  “You ever did any Shakespeare? Bet you’d make a real solid Cleopatra.” His statement collected a laugh from his companion, who looked to him with mirth in her eyes.  “You saw an Abraxo ad, and went straight to Shakespeare? I was never that good. Besides, I swear Cleopatra was described as a snake.” He pursed his lips at her assessment.  “Not entirely. Good ole’ Cleo was described that way by the other jealous bitches, sure. But it only served to show how powerful she was. She was a great warrior; influential to boot, and a real good talker. Sound like anyone, Charmer?” She mulled it around for a second, before casting him a glance. “Not me, that’s for sure.” She quietened his thought process with the sobering comment. They continued to walk in the direction of the abandoned highway, although the comfortable silence they travelled in was a damn sight more awkward than before. Deacon wanted to bite his tongue off, coming on so strong like that. Sole had always been the one to stand off to the side; she hated compliments and any sort of recognition from anyone, no wonder she’d react like that. Well done, Deeks. Make your partner uncomfortable, why not? There was nothing to hit his ears now but the sound of their footsteps, muffled by the dusty ground beneath. He’d not meant for the current stand-off he’d created, he’d just wanted to be funny, compliment her a bit, but she’d gone off into her thousand-yard stare that signified her thoughts had gone back to 2077, and she was not in the here and now. He tightened his grip on his feelings, swallowing back the awkward tone from his voice. “Shame you can’t do that now, I bet the drinkin’ buddy you fixed up for the Rexford would look way sexier in an ad-campaign. I bet they’d put a feather boa on him.” He sniffed at the thought, and felt relief and the wry smile that shyly crept back onto her face. “What colour?” She prodded him, trying to picture it; and his own smile touched his lips. “I think a black, sparkly one would do the trick. Give him a sense of mystery.” A light laugh escaped from her, and he felt the tension completely dissipate. He could hardly believe his ears when she rewarded him with information. “I wore something similar for a television commercial; I think it was for this murder-mystery show? I played ‘Harlot #1′.” She chuckled, and his mouth gaped in shock. “They didn’t seriously name you guys ‘Harlots’, did they? That just smells of sexism.” She shrugged, stopping for a moment to take some purified water out of her bag, and cracking the can. She took a swig and offered him the can. He eyed her as he sipped at the water. “It was, but it was different back then. It’s better now.” He snorted at the irony, and passed her the can back so she could finish it. Only Sole could make that comparison. “I’ll amen to that particular line of thought.” He mused but tensed, alarmed when a noise bled through into his consciousness, and he sharply turned hand already on his gun. The ground rumbled, the earth splitting slightly in places, as if a great drill was running chasms in the dirt two feet below them. Sole already had her rifle trained on the area, lips pressed into a thin line and empty can of water abandoned on the floor. The noise eventually faded into a distant rumble, the cracks on the floor traveling in the opposite direction, and Deacon felt able to glance at his partner to check on her. She was frowning, hands slightly less tensed around the metal of her rifle. “Sounded big.” She simply whispered, and he nodded. He swallowed some particularly thick spit that had gathered in his mouth, heart pounding slightly. “Don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like sticking around to see if that thing has teeth.” He said dryly, and their happy air from before slipped away, replaced with the real dangers of the wasteland they’d chosen to ignore for their conversation. It was sobering and made him remember that there was no time for indulgent conversations anyway; anything he learnt about her that he liked would only serve as a painful nail in the coffin later on when their gig finally ended, if they could even reach the finish line. Their temporary joy had been enough for him to forget the smell of war, but it could never wash the blood from their hands. He felt like the situation had washed him clean, stripping away the sentiments they’d gained with each other. They kept their weapons out, unable to relax after their close and unsettling encounter. They returned to their silence, resuming walking down the abandoned road as the sun shone on above them. Life waited for no man.