Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue:

Holding the smoking gun was more than a metaphor, in this case, because the woman dressed in boiled leather armor was literally holding the smoking gun.

No, she thought distantly as she watched the body fall to the ground in a dull thud. In that moment, she felt her entire body flush with cold, like all the warmth in her body was draining out from her feet, and Nora recognized this emotion for what it was: fear, plain and cold.

“Okay! Stop shooting!” a hoarse voice cried. Trish, in her silver suit, held up both her hands in front of her face, wanting to surrender. “I’ll get you in on the deal, okay?! Just stop!”

He’s dead, is all the woman with the gun could think. I just took someone’s son away, somebody’s child, somebody’s baby.

The cold feeling in her gut churned, bringing up nausea and the urge to vomit. It rose to the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down, and she forced the tears away from her eyes.

Trish carried on, pleading for her life, offering to hand over caps, guns, drugs, anything, if it meant she could live.

The Woman Holding the Gun blinked, the sickness in her transforming into something dark, and cold, and vengeful. This was her fault; someone needs to pay.

The Woman whistled sharply, and her loyal dog came trotting back to her, his ears flattened over his head and his jowls turned up in a snarl. The fur along his spine bristled, and he turned back towards the ghoul woman with an audible and terrifying snarl.

“Please! Let me go!” Trish continued to plead. “I’ll never say a word, never let anyone know you were here! I’ll forget this ever happened!”

The Survivor sheathed her machete into it’s holster across her back, and let her hand fall limply to her side. “I know,” her voice came out soft and maternal. “You wouldn’t tell a soul.”

Relief washed over Trish’s face. “Oh thank you, thank you! I promise, I won’t tell anyone! No one will ever kno-”

Her voice cut off as the Survivor lifted her arm again, now holding a common pipe pistol in one hand. “I never said I would let you live, Trish. Besides-”

BANG!

Trish’s body fell to the blood-stained ground, her face formed into one final expression of shock as red blood seeped from the bullet wound in her forehead. The Survivor tossed the pipe pistol towards the heap of dead bodies, unable to stop the shaking in her hands as she looked at the ones dead. Nelson Latimer’s body lay on the cobblestones, his eyes gaping wide in fear, his clothes torn from the bullets that had burrowed into his skin from the gunfight.

The Survivor felt the nausea rise again, but she melded it back into the cold darkness that churned deep into her being. She lifted her head to the night sky and took in a deep, long breath. The smells of the murky riverside brought a small sense of comfort, but did nothing to slow the adrenaline that coursed through her body. At her side, Dogmeat whimpered, once again relaxed after the sense of danger had passed.

Nora reached down a hand to pat his head, her fingers playing with his large ears as he tilted his head to nuzzle her. “Good boy,” she mumbled. The adrenaline in her body began to slow, replaced by an aching sense of exhaustion after what had happened. She sighed out slowly, “C’mon, let’s go home.”

~months later~

The Institute had fallen, and she wanted to be alone.

Sanctuary had grown crowded after helping that Preston guy (more settlers were coming to the place by the day) and Nora just wanted to have some time to herself. It had been a difficult road taking the Institute down by herself; she did meet interesting people along the way, like that mayor in Goodneighbor, the pompadour-wig-wearing Deacon, snappy Piper in Diamond City, and hired-gun MacCready, but in the end, Dogmeat was her only companion, and the people she met would be her distant allies. Nothing more, nothing less.

She didn’t tell Preston she was leaving (he would figure that out on his own when he realized she wasn’t there). She simply woke up, took her essentials with her, and headed out towards the Boston ruins with Dogmeat.

She settled on a rooftop sheltered between two taller buildings. The taller ones cast a shadow just high enough so she could build a small shelter where no one could see her with a wood panel above her head and three little walls to keep out the elements. It did nothing against rad storms, but Nora always had enough rad-away and Rad-X to deal with that. Her home was a small hovel, nearly impossible to trace and just as difficult to get to unless one was familiar with the rooftops.

By day, she would go traverse the ruins of Boston, clearing out her own area of Raiders and Supermutants as they came through, and oftentimes had limited contact with actual people. After a while, her territory began to expand closer and closer to Diamond City, but the Survivor held back, afraid of meeting people, afraid of what trouble it would bring, especially after what happened all those months ago. Dogmeat seemed to do better when they were on their own, anyway.

Someone first made contact with her as she and Dogmeat were walking home after a hunt, the sun warm on her back as they walked in and out of the shadows from the ruined skyscrapers, a mole rat slung over her shoulder.

“Excuse me, are you-”

The person who had managed to sneak up on Nora didn’t get a chance to finish their sentence as the Survivor whipped out her machete, swinging it towards the person’s neck and stopping right at the edge of their skin. The person, who Nora now realized to be a small woman, squeaked feebly as she held up her hands in surrender.

Nora didn’t let down her guard, despite knowing instantly that the woman wasn’t armed with much. “Who are you. What do you want,” her voice slid out coldly.

The woman swallowed against the cold steel pressed into her neck. “P-please. I-I’ve heard about you. The Survivor of that Vault, right?”

Nora narrowed her eyes. “What’s it to you?”

“You killed Trish, right? The chem supplier for Diamond City?”

Dread filled Nora’s gut, and her stomach dropped into her feet as memories came swirling back to her. “So what if I did?” she snarled. “What’s it to you?”

The small woman licked her lips, casting her eyes around nervously, “I-It’s nothing to me. I-I just heard that you killed her in return for caps, right?”

Nora’s hand clenched around her machete, and something flashed behind her eyes that the woman recognized as truth, and something akin to hope flared in the meek, mousy woman before her. She fiddled with her hands nervously. “W-would you be willing to do it again?”

A wave of confusion hit Nora and it met with an equally large wave of fear. “Again?” Nora echoed. Her arm slacked a bit on the machete, and she finally stepped back a pace, allowing her machete to hang at her side as she gazed oddly at the little woman. “You. . . want me to kill someone? For caps?”

It’s not like this was something new. People were asking Nora for favors all the time, whether clearing out a camp of raiders or super-mutants… or taking out an evasive enemy. It was just.. this woman didn’t look the type to make that kind of request.

The woman nodded timidly, and Nora suddenly became aware of how many people could be listening in on their conversation without realizing it. At her side, Dogmeat whimpered, and she turned her glaring expression to the would-be customer. “Alright. Come with me. We’ll go to my office, figure some things out.”

The woman looked confused at ‘office,’ but said nothing as she meagerly followed the Survivor. The two weaved in and out of buildings until Nora led her to a rickety and rusted old ladder going up one building. It led to a wide expanse of rooftops, mazes connecting with creaky planks of wood. The woman kept up rather well, and eventually the two found their way to where Nora had set up her little dwelling. Dogmeat jumped onto overhangs and slid through gaps in the walls, slipping into the little shelter and immediately settling down on their shared bed (an old mattress with a few thready blankets for warmth).

The home was a shack more than anything else- just a small and wooden shelter with a tin roof, nowhere near professionally made so that slants of sun and dust easily slipped through the gaps. It wasn’t much, and surely a far cry from the life Nora used to have- but for now, in this time, it was enough. And Nora didn’t need anyone else besides Dogmeat, anyway.

“So tell me,” Nora said as she tossed some of her belongings onto the springy mattress, careful to avoid Dogmeat curled up with his head resting on one pillow, “why does a sweet little lady like you want someone killed?”

Nora didn’t often believe in stupid questions, but she knew hers was before she even finished saying anything. It was hard to tell in the light of the fading sun, but she could recognize a battered woman anywhere. After working as a lawyer before the bombs fell, she was used to a number of women like this, making themselves small as possible, trying to cover any exposed skin, flinching and falling into silence as soon as their husbands entered.

Physical, emotional, and mental abuse, poisoned relationships, marital rape; she had seen it all, and all the signs were present with this woman now. She kept her shoulders hunched forward in a subconscious effort to be smaller, and her shirt sleeves went all the way to her wrists. It was hard to tell in the orange of the sunset, but Nora could still see the bruise blossoming over the woman’s eyes and the marks around her neck that were surely from someone’s hands. Nora knew the answer to her own question, but she waited for the woman to say for herself as the Survivor leaned against the back of a roof.

“My-my husband,” the woman stammered. “I want you to- I want you to- to kill my husband.”

“Hmm,” Nora mumbled quietly, nodding. “Okay. . . Any particular reason?”

The woman cast her eyes down as she shifted restlessly from foot to foot. “I have my own reasons,” she murmured, and Nora noticed the woman clenching her fists. “And I need it to look like an accident,” she added, looking up, seemingly emboldened as she spoke out for the first time in.. who knows how long. “I can’t have anyone suspect that I hired a, erm, that is, someone to-”

“You can’t let anyone know that you hired a hit man to kill your husband,” Nora filled in the gaps, plain and clear for her. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed as she thought about it. The woman watched her quietly, awaiting her answer. After a good handful of seconds, Nora lifted her head to meet eyes with her customer. “I’ll do it,” she replied. “It’ll look like an accident.”

Tears dripped down the woman’s eyes, but they weren’t tears of sorrow, for Nora saw the relief buried in those burning irises.

Chapter 1

Of all the people who could entire the private eye’s office, the last person Detective Valentine ever expected was Malcolm Latimer.

The rich man was obviously uncomfortable; his arms held straight at his sides as he moved stiffly through the small office, like touching a single item would stain his hands or clothes for the rest of eternity. Valentine looked up from beneath his fedora, not bothering to hide the tone of surprise from his voice, “Malcolm Latimer, as I live and breathe.” He smirked, the irony of that statement not lost on him, and the Upper-Stand citizen grimaced. “What can I do for you?”

Malcolm edged his way over to the desk at the front where Ellie sat. He tapped nervous and anxious fingers onto the hardwood, his brow forming a grimace behind his dark sunglasses. “I-I just want you to know that-that this is the last place I would ever go to.”

Ah, of course. Needed to get rid of that silly pride before the conversation could actually be productive. “Of course,” Valentine allowed, with a bow of his head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a man who comes from such a position as yourself.” The stroking of Latimer’s ego honeyed the sarcasm buried at the core of the detective’s words, but they were lost on the rich man.

Latimer seemed to straighten his spine a bit at the praise. “Well, of course. Good; I’m glad you understand.” He cleared his throat, and inched his way closer so he stood in front of the desk. “I-ah, I have a case for you.”

Valentine’s ears perked up immediately. “Oh really?” he asked, unable to hide some of the disbelief in his voice, and a taunt slipped out, “Jewels go missing? Suspect your wife is having a fling with some guy? Misplaced caps?”

Latimer managed to straighten his back even further with indignation. “What? No, of course not, nothing like that! I-It’s my son.” The man took in a nervous breath, then let it out with a shudder. “He’s missing, and I-I think someone has killed him.”

Detective Valentine raised an eyebrow at that (or what could be excused for as an eyebrow), and nodded towards the seat in front of the desk. “Alright then, go ahead and take a seat, Latimer, and we’ll get started. Ellie?”

His loyal secretary, clad in her finest pink skirt and scarf, didn’t even need to hear his requests before she pulled out a pencil and paper to take notes with. She sat down in a nearby chair, notepad in hand, eyes alert and attentive. “Ready when you are, Nick,” she allowed.

Valentine nodded, and turned back to Latimer, who had taken his place in a continuing air of nervousness. He fidgeted in his seat, like he was ready to spring up at the smallest sign of trouble. The synth regarded the Upper-Stand citizen with his stark yellow gaze. “So, Mr. Latimer, why don’t you start at the beginning, and tell us about your son. His name is Nelson, right?”

Latimer nodded, “Yes, Nelson, he’s just turned 17 years old, and he’s been missing for a couple of months. Recently, he’s been disappearing off and on for maybe a week, at most, getting into trouble, but he always comes home.” The wealthy man of Diamond City licked his lips while Valentine watched astutely and silently, knowing that Latimer would keep speaking to defend himself. “And I know he’s practically an adult, and he can do what he wants, but-but his mother and I are worried. We’ve hired all walks of people to try to locate him, but we’ve come up empty.” Latimer pressed his lips together as he stared at the office wall, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

Detective Valentine observed everything about Malcolm Latimer, and his optics shifted to the desk in front of him as he thought quietly to himself. “Could just be your boy ran off and got into some trouble he shouldn’t have. Do you have the names of any known associates of him?”

Latimer frowned in thought. “No-I don’t think. . . maybe one. Henry Cooke. You know the bartender in the Colonial Taphouse? I think he was involved with my son in some way, exchanging caps for drugs, I think.”

The detective couldn’t stop the dread that filled his gut. “Yeah,” he assured, “I know him, and I also know he’s currently missing.”

Latimer huffed out an irritated breath. “Yes, I know that. I’ve sent out Triggermen to try to find out whatever they could to bring back my son or Cooke, but the only thing I found is that a rumble between two parties happened down by the riverside at Back Street Apparel about the same time my son went missing.”

Valentine raised an eyebrow at the thought of trigger-happy triggermen trying to do a detective’s job, but he kept his mouth shut. “Gunfights happen all the time in the Commonwealth; it could just be a coincidence that it happened around the time of your son’s disappearance.” Not to mention the band of raiders that often frequented that one boat on the river. Still, worth looking in to.

The wealthy man didn’t look so certain and he leaned in towards Detective Valentine at his next assessment, “Regardless, the only corpses on the location found belonged to just one of the participating parties.” Behind his sunglasses, Nick could see Latimer glance around, as if ensuring their privacy, and whispered in a conspiring manner. “I-I think this group was an attack by the Angel.”

The entire room stilled at this whisper. Behind Valentine, the scratching of pencil on paper stopped as Ellie’s hand ceased writing. The detective could feel his secretary’s eyes on him, and the tension in the room suddenly weighed down all present. With a heavy-laden sigh, Valentine looked up to Malcolm Latimer behind his fedora, and he sat back in his chair. “Mr. Latimer,” he started, “I’m not sure if we’ll be able to help you.”

He bristled at Valentine’s quick-cut decision. “What?! Why not?”

Valentine huffed out an irritated breath. “You know very well why, Mr. Latimer. The Angels are an enigma; no one has confirmed an actual sighting by them. It’s just an urban legend.” A new one, too. One that only just popped up recently, after the destruction of the Institute a short while ago.

Latimer grimaced. “That’s ridiculous, everyone knows about the murders acted out by the Angel, the calling cards, the way the Angel can mysteriously travel from one side of the Commonwealth to the other in almost no time at all.” The man acted as if this closed his case securely, like that was enough to convince the skeptical Valentine.

The detective glared from beneath his hat, withholding another irritated sigh. “And how does that in any way relate to the possible disappearance of your son?”

Latimer shifted his weight where he sat, again reminding Valentine how uncomfortable his guest was, and the rich man’s voice stammered out uncertainly. “I-I actually do have a possible witness to what happened.”

It took all of Valentine’s effort not to groan with exasperation. Forcing his voice to emit a level of calm clarity, he asked lowly, “And, may I ask, what this witness said?”

Latimer nodded, “The man I spoke to, he said he saw the gunfight go down by the waterfront. He was a ways away, so he couldn’t tell who the fight was between, but he could hear the voice of a ghoul begging for her life.” Latimer did his nervous twitch again as he shifted in his seat. “Apparently, the sole individual fighting the ghoul killed her in cold blood, then left. But the thing is-” and Latimer leaned in close again to whisper, “on the stranger’s back, my informant saw a pair of white wings beneath the armor.”

Valentine could feel some of his own unconscious excitement start to spark, much to his chagrin, and he forced himself to hide it as he leveled his voice, “Wait, one of your men saw the Angel?”

Latimer nodded again, and Valentine waved his hand towards Ellie, signaling for her to pick up her note-taking. The sound of pencil on paper picked up at once, and Nick leaned in to his client, golden optics watching him intently. “Tell me what this person looked like.”

At this point, Latimer had the good grace to look embarrassed, and he looked away momentarily to avoid making eye contact. “Uh, well, my informant didn’t get a very good look at the individual, just that they wore heavy armor and seemed to have some kind of shirt beneath their armor with angels’ wings on the back.”

Valentine felt a bit of disappointment from the lack of details, and he sat back in his chair. “So what, male, female?” he prompted.

Latimer shrugged hopelessly and admit, “Couldn’t tell. Whoever they were, they disappeared after that.”

The detective nodded thoughtfully, heaved a weary sigh, and tapped his synthetic fingers against his desk. “Well alright, then,” he allowed quietly.

Hearing the note of finality in the synth’s voice, Malcolm Latimer looked up hopefully. “So you’ll take the case?”

Valentine nodded solemnly. “Yeah. I’ll take the case.” Even if it didn’t lead to anything related to the angels, he was obligated by a sense of duty to a grieving father, and a worried mother. Nelson Latimer needed to be found.

In a flourish, Nick stood up, adjusting his fedora over his head and tightening his tie by just a hair. He smoothly withdrew a pistol from one of the drawers in the office as the detective ensured he had everything he needed. “I’m going to get to work immediately. Ellie will fill you in on the details in regards to payment and process. It’s 200 caps upfront.”

The Great Synth Detective didn’t get any time to hear Malcolm Latimers response, because as soon as he finished speaking, he was out the door and into the throng of Diamond City, his steps echoing on the dusty ground. The detective pulled the collars of his trench coat closer to his neck, unable to hide the excited puff of air that escaped his synthetic breath.. He needed to fight the urge to skip as he headed out on his investigation.

A case, finally, and hopefully it’ll be a good one.

Chapter Text

Along the river, Valentine walked up and down the murky water, his nose wrinkling from the rank odors that permeated his sensors. Seaweed coated the stones underfoot, and in the bright Commonwealth day, the detective was able to easily find his way to the Back Street Apparel Mr. Latimer described.

Ah, and easy enough, there it was. A pile of bodies at the riverside. Nick stopped several paces away, blinking as he focused on absorbing every detail of the corpses. He approached cautiously, wary not to step on anything that would disturb the scene of the event, and counted the bodies. A few trigger-men corpses lay on each other in a heap, and a woman ghoul in a silver suit and fedora lay a few paces away from them, her eyes glazed as she stared up at nothing.

Nick’s sensors detected the scent of rotting flesh, and his tongue curled reflexively to it. He imagined how his eyes might water if they were made of synthetic bio-material rather than metal machinery, but unfortunately, all he had was the shared memory from the old Nick Valentine.

Jarring himself from that thought process, the synthetic man shook his head, blinking away from that trail of thought back to the present. He focused again on the pile of corpses before him. Despite it being months since the actual event occurred, the bodies were still pretty well preserved. Valentine chalked it up to the radiation levels all the humans across the ‘Wealth were exposed to. It made the most sense to him, at least.

Nick again counted the bodies. Three trigger-men and the ghoul woman in the suit. The corpses told a story all right, one that had Nick stumped in the most delightful way possible.

Where was Nelson Latimer’s body?

The boy’s corpse was no where to be seen, and what boggled Valentine’s mind even further, was that there seemed to be no evidence of a second party engaging in this gun fight whatsoever. No blood, no corpses, no sign that anyone had even shot these poor saps. If anything, an outsider looking on the scene might have thought the bodies commit some kind of suicide pact, or that they were jumped. But one person couldn’t have done all this . . . Could they?

Nick frowned, puzzled and intrigued by the developments this case was progressing. He walked slowly around the bodies, then stilled when he caught sight of a faint but present light brown trail, like something was being dragged and scraped along the ground. It took only a moment for Nick to recognize it as being dried blood, and that it originated from tangled bodies on the ground. For a moment, the detective considered the chance the body might have been pulled away by a group of savage dogs, but as soon as the thought entered his mind, he dismissed it. The trail of dried blood was too uniform and precise, too intentional. Whoever had dragged this body away knew what they were doing and where they were going.

Latching onto a mood that was somehow somber but anticipating at the same time, Nick set off to follow the trail of dried blood, scanning the environment for any other give-aways on what this person was like. Who would go to a pile of bodies and take just one away? And for what reason? What purpose would a dead body serve?

As the trail wore on and Nick got further to the edges of the city, the amount of blood became less and less until the only clues he had to go on would be a smear or two of blood, separated between several paces of walking.

The detective continued walking. He crept over a bridge cautiously, leaving the ruins of Boston as he entered the skeletal forest. After that, he didn’t have to walk far before he caught sight of what lay ahead. Startled and caught off-guard, Nick stopped walking as he stared, blinked, then walked forward the rest of the way to the mound of overturned dirt.

Valentine stood before the grave, a frown marring his features as he took it in. Confusion beat at him in waves like an ocean as he studied it. The grave was recently dug. A pile of crumbling and dry flowers were placed at its’ head, the stems buried beneath the dirt. Two thin and flat planks of wood made a cross in the ground, held together with string. Valentine narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, recognizing the initials scratched into the wood.

N.M.

This was starting to get interesting. The old synth heaved a great sigh with his hands buried into his pockets. He tilted his head up to the sky, now starting to gray from storm clouds, and dug into his trench coat for a cigarette to help him think. When his hand closed around the box, the paper crunched, and he realized with a flash of disappointment that the box was empty. He grunted in annoyance and tossed it to the side, resolving to observe the grave without the help of the cig.

He wanted to chew on something while he thought, and instead rocked back and forth as he contemplated these new developments.

Who would bother to go to the trouble to bury a young and reckless man like Nelson Latimer? Without telling the family, no less? Maybe it was someone who felt guilty about his death? But who would feel guilty about killing this stuck-up and spoiled brat? A killer with a conscious? Hardly.

Nick tapped his foot on the ground thoughtfully. Perhaps it was someone who felt responsible for Nelson’s death? But who? Maybe someone in the opposing party that killed all those people?

Valentine observed the grave as a thoughtful frown marred his features. He tapped his fingers against his side in rapid sequence as he tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together. He tried to envision he scene, tried to get a firm understanding of what transpired, but the pieces all fell flat.

He carefully examined the area around the grave, studying the footprints around it, but it was no use with how many surrounded it. Even if the grave had been dug recently, too many strangers and passer-bys had walked over the dirt so any clue on the undertaker was impossible to determine.

“No good,” Valentine muttered bitterly, and turned to make the regretful march back to Diamond City. He would be able to think there and get his ducks in order, hopefully. Dammit. If Malcolm Latimer had bothered to come in before hiring those trigger-men goons, the private eye might have had a chance at cracking it.

He could sift through some of the details when he got back, and maybe talk to the trigger-man that claimed to have seen Latimer Junior’s murder.

The detective nodded to the guards at the entryway to Diamond City as he walked in, and the synth was greeted with the familiar and open stadium of the city. He paused only briefly at the top of the stairs to observe the people moving and bustling around beneath him, and he started down the stairs.

As Nick descended into the city, he decided to take the longer way and go through the main market circle and see the happenings-on of the cityfolk.

He just passed Dr. Sun’s medical corner when the synth stopped as he observed something peculiar before him.

A stranger -presumably from the Commonwealth- was loading packs of supplies into the Home Plate corner. A large brown and black dog with a red bandanna around its’ neck followed the newcomer closely, looking at all who approached while occasionally barking in excitement, only to be shushed by the person unpacking their weapons and belongings into Home Plate.

Nick appreciated the newcomer of average height with dark ebony hair. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged up his lips as he approached the outsider and called amicably, “Welcome to Diamond City. You must be new to this much activity.”

Long black hair flew about the stranger’s face as the plain-faced but somehow startlingly beautiful woman stood to her feet, a heavy box hefted in her muscular arms. Nick would have flushed or paled or something if he was human, but he only smiled breezily, his face masking the surprise in his gut as he met bold green eyes. He didn’t miss the typical once-over as she looked him up and down, appraising how dangerous he was, before she nodded, and smiled almost carefully in return. “It’s that obvious?” she asked.

“Don’t worry,” he assured, “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

The dog at her side, now alerted to the newcomer, approached carefully. The woman watched the canine as he sniffed Nick’s hand, then barked, and wagged his tail. He returned to the woman, and she looked at Nick with a considerably greater amount of warmth in her eyes. She balanced the box onto one arm in an effort to hold her hand out to Nick. “Guess I should introduce myself. I’m Nora. That’s Dogmeat.”

Nick shook her hand with his good one, and nodded politely with a tip of his fedora. “The name’s Nick, Nick Valentine. Nice to meet the both of you. Need a hand at all?” He eyed the likely heavy box balanced in her arms, and started forward as if to help her lift it.

She shook her head and shifted them closer to her, taking what was likely an unconscious step back. “Nah, I’m fine. This is the last of it. Thanks, though.”

“Not a problem,” he replied politely, his smile warm through his synthetic face. He noticed how she didn’t look at him with any apparent disgust, and while she had observed him strangely for a moment upon first approaching her, she did not sneer or recoil from his synthetic build. A flush of warm appreciation spread through the synth for the strange new woman.

He snapped himself back to attention as her voice called to him through his thoughts. “Would you like to come in for anything to drink?” she asked, starting towards the open doorway, and out of the blistering heat. “I have plenty of Nuka-cola.”

The invitation took the detective aback for a moment, and he was reminded of a culture of old, of dainty women inviting strangers in for a drink to escape the heat, of bright dresses and pressed smiles. They were memories of another time, memories that did not belong to his own mind. Nick blinked, somewhat startled by this woman, and hesitated in thought. Nick was always up for meeting new people and learning their stories; he pictured himself staying and talking with this strange new woman, putting the pieces of the puzzle that was her together until the picture they formed would be clear. Thoughts of the case brought him back, though, and he hesitated regretfully. “Wish I could, but I should probably get back to work.”

“That’s too bad,” she called from the darkened interior of the new and dusty home. Her voice fell, practiced in their tone. Nick, enchanted by it, listened and watched as she came to the doorway. “Maybe another time, then,” she suggested, “when you’re probably not so busy.” Her eyes glinted behind dusty eyeglasses.

Nick blinked, and nodded mutely before finding his voice again. “And I wouldn’t want to barge in, especially just when you’re settling in.”

“It’s no trouble,” she smiled in a way the synth could only describe as warm, strange, and oddly foreign. “But thank you, maybe you can stop by tomorrow. I’ll be settled in by then.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nick replied, smiling in return. He tipped his hat her way, nodded to the dog sitting at her side, and turned to walk back towards his office.

(**)

“How did it go?” Ellie asked as Nick stepped into the room. She turned towards him in her office chair. “Did you find any good clues?”

Nick closed the door behind him as he entered the office. He stepped carefully past the desk, chairs, and stuffed file cabinets to make his way to his own chair. “I did, indeed. I found Latimer Junior’s grave, actually.”

Ellie frowned. “Grave? Someone buried him?”

Nick nodded, reaching into his desk for a carton of cigarettes. He fished around for a moment before pulling out a pack, unopened. “Yeah, but it wasn’t the family. They didn’t know where his body was in the first place.” He dug in his pockets for a cigarette lighter, then flipped the switch until the bright and hot flame flickered on. Opening the box, he pulled out a thin stick and brought it to the flame until it caught. “Lots of clues that built up to an even bigger mess of questions.” Nick took a deep inhale from the cigarette, his sensors humming from the hot warmth of the toxic smoke. He stuffed the box and lighter back into the pockets of his trench coat. “Who buried the poor Nelson Latimer, but left the rest of the bodies to rot in the open? Maybe a friend? Another family member? Why didn’t they approach the family and tell them about the body if they were close enough to him to give the boy a funeral?”

Ellie did not answer any of his questions, and only frowned as he spoke, her own mind likely buzzing with thought and idea. “Do you have any idea?”

“Not a clue,” Nick sighed. “I don’t have a single lead on whoever did this, but one thing is for sure,” he breathed out, exhaling the smoke into a thin, continuous stream as he pursed his lips. “I’m going to find out.”

Chapter Text

Nick stayed up for most of the night pondering the possible outcomes and paths he could explore as he continued his case, but for the most part, his mind drew a horrible blank. The myth of the Angels was a relatively new urban legend in the Commonwealth these days; perhaps only being around for the past several months. It all started when citizens across the ‘Wealth started reporting accounts of loved ones dying mysteriously in the night by some unknown cause, usually with a slit throat.

At first, Nick thought little of it. Death was a common occurrence in the Commonwealth, and yeah, there were perhaps more deaths springing up these days, but it didn’t help that the people were a bit jittery from the recent fall of the Institute. Even though months had passed since that explosion rocked their whole world, citizens were still nervous about Synth Issues. Just because the Institute was gone, Boogeyman destroyed, did not mean there were still synths out there, pretending to be human.

Needless to say, people were still on edge, so when Nick caught wind of people dying in their sleep from an unknown perpetrator, he thought nothing of it, and chalked it up to Gunners or Raiders.

However, that all changed when the signature appeared.

There were more reports of citizen deaths across the Commonwealth, but this time, all the bodies were found with a feather attached somewhere on the corpse, but always positioned somewhere easily accessible, so whoever came in contact with the body would know exactly who was responsible. They were never the same color. Sometimes black, sometimes spotted and gray- then very rarely- a white feather.

Suddenly, the killer had a signature to go with the killings, and Nick paid attention. The Pre-War part of Nick’s hard drive recognized older tradition of serial killers having a signature for their kills, and the Synth Detective knew at once that this was not the act of a single omnipotent being. The rest of the Commonwealth did not seem to share his sense and logic of the situation. Reports of a murder by this killer would come from the North one day, then far to the South in the span of a single night. People took to believing it was a supernatural being, seeking to bring to justice to those who have done wrong. This belief irritated Nick to no end, and he often ranted to Ellie as this rumor and misinformation spread.

“It’s obviously a group of more than more people, at least, killing multiple targets at the same relative time like they have! How can they not see that?” he raged as his loyal secretary listened on silently and respectfully. “I suppose there’s no lacking for commonwealth stupidity, even today,” he would growl, then retreat to his bed for the rest of the day to think things through.

Eventually, as the report of killings continued to climb, a name for this person -“People,” Nick would correct in irritation. The group of people- commanding these executions. The being moved in the night silently without any trace by morning, killing those with no connection or apparent reason. The murder(s) would then leave a single feather on the body of the victim, their calling card. The Commonwealth gave them the name Angels of Death (shortened to ‘Angels’). Some people believed Nick’s theory, but there was still a significant amount of people that refused to believe it was more than one person. Regardless of what the people believed, the overall public named the leader of the movement as The Archangel. Every so often, a report would come in that someone had an eyewitness account of the Archangel, but anytime Nick investigated the claim, he proved it to be false or found no evidence that would lead him to whoever the leader was of this powerful organization.

Yes, an organization, Nick thought to himself as he tapped his fingers against the mattress he lay on, but did not allow himself to sleep. There were far too many reports of murders for this to be just one person doing it all, and besides this, all of the reported deaths as enacted by the Angels were performed and executed differently. No one murder was the same. Sometimes the person would die from a knife wound, a bullet wound(s), too much radiation, or even a chem overdose. There were no hints as to what the killer(s) preferred in terms of style, but it was apparent to Nick that the Archangel valued stealth in an extreme way. Not one report across the Commonwealth came in with reliable claims of sightings either before or after the murder. The only evidence of an intruder was the feather left on the body of the victim.

Nick groaned and pressed his hands to his forehead in annoyance and exaggeration. It’s impossible, though, he growled to himself. There was no way to locate the Angels; no one could. What could he do? Who could he interrogate that would reveal what they knew about this Shadowy Crime Organization?

He closed his eyes, his brows knit into a concentrated frown as he dug through the possibilities. It didn’t take too long for him to come to several conclusions. Well, rather, he came to two conclusions on what he could do to start his investigation. For a start, he could always try his luck on the road, searching for people who reported murder from the Angels, but that one was more risky. While there was a chance he might stumble on some useful information, it would also take much longer to get enough pieces to make even a fraction of the puzzle he was trying to assemble. So he could either get small pieces of information over a longer period of time, or he could get a handful of them with one short walk to a sister city.

It was an easy choice.

Nick stood up in one smooth movement. Ellie looked at him over her shoulder as the detective grabbed some essentials as he readied himself for the journey. Bullets, oil, spare parts, an extra gun, and his hat. “Going somewhere?” the woman asked nosily.

“Some investigating for the Latimer case. Nothing too dangerous, I should be back by tomorrow morning,” he said in a blur, taking stock of all he had before setting out.

“What about the newcomer in town?”

Nick didn’t need to look up to know his secretary had somehow managed to find out about his meet-and-greet with the new stranger in town, Nora. He fiddled distractedly with his belt as he adjusted it. “Yeah? What about her?” he asked gruffly, having an idea on what Ellie was up to.

“Well, you were going to meet her today, weren’t you?” she pried.

The detective sighed, and looked at his secretary with an expression conveying warm exasperation. “Malcolm Latimer needs justice for the death of his son. I don’t have time to sit around with people for tea. Besides, the more time passes, the more this case will grow colder, and I refuse to let it slip out from under me, especially if it does connect to the Angels.” It was a logical excuse in his mind, and he amended his friend as she made a disappointed face. “Don’t worry, I’ll apologize to Ms. Nora on my way out of town.”

Ellie pursed her lips, and her brows pinched with dissatisfaction. “I worry about you, Nick,” she said softly. She looked up to him pleadingly. “I know you’re a grown man, and your job is important to you. . . but you should have other people to care for you.”

Nick cracked a half-smile and didn’t bother to correct Ellie when she referred to him as a ‘grown man.’ Instead, he sighed quietly and nodded, “Yes, I know, Ellie. And besides, I have you.”

His answer did not please her, and she continued to frown. “Well, you should have more than just me. I want you to find more people you can connect with, someone you can be friends with.” Ellie cracked her own small smile. “I’m not saying you need to force something that may not be here, but maybe try reaching out to the newcomer? Who knows, you might have something in common and become good friends.” She looked at him with an expression almost akin to gentle pleading. “Just try, for me.”

Agh, hitting him with that guilt card. Nick huffed out a quiet breath. “Fine, Ellie. But only because you asked.”

She grinned broadly now. “Good enough for me,” she said, and started to swivel in her chair back to her desk. Nick scrunched up one side of his face thoughtfully and took two steps towards Ellie. Bowing down, he kissed her chastely on the crown of her head. She stilled.

“Thank you for worrying about me, Ellie. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Anytime, Nick,” she murmured, glancing back at him with tears in her eyes. “Safe journey, and I hope you and Ms. Nora have a pleasant afternoon.”

Nick rolled his eyes a bit, but the action was loving, and he smirked her way as he started out the door. “Thanks, Ellie.”

(**)

Nick walked down Third Base Avenue and turned towards the bustling center of Diamond City. He walked with a bit of a blush in his body language, his shoulders hunched and his head duck down. He was nervous to see the stranger again, but still excited to be meeting someone new. It was always interesting to listen to the diverse stories of new residents of the Great Green Jewel. There were so many backgrounds, so much to learn from another person’s perspective on life. It enthralled Nick to no end, and he used this anticipation to fuel his excitement as he walked alongside the back of Takahashi’s Noodles.

The Synth lifted glowing yellow eyes to the Home Plate home, and he paused a few steps away, watching.

The newcomer, Nora, had her arms wrapped around a Diamond City Guard in a big bear hug. Nick couldn’t place name to the guard this woman was embraced with, but they were clearly close to some degree. The guard was bald and lacked a helmet, unlike the other guards, but he was at ease in his Dug Out armor and standard pistol attached to his hip. Large patrolman sunglasses blocked the detective from seeing his eyes.

The two parted from their embrace, and because of their distance, Nick could not hear what they were saying. A moment later, Nora caught sight of Nick standing several paces away, and waved him over with a grin stretched across her face. He had no choice but to approach the pair with a polite smile of his own. Nora beamed at Nick, “Hello there, Detective! Glad you could come.”

Nick found his courage as he looked at this stunningly beautiful woman of the wastes. Perhaps it was her beauty that intimidated him next to his falling-apart body. Regardless, she radiated warmth and friendliness, and because of that, it was easy for the detective to fall into the easy glow of her personal bubble. “Afternoon, Ms. Nora. And thank you for inviting me over. Not everyday a guy like me gets invited to a proper lady’s home.”

She smiled, charmed by his words, “Well it’s a pleasure to have you,” she returned. It was again so easy for Nick to fall under the rise and lilt of her voice, striking a cord of nostalgia deep into his hard-drive. There was something ethereal about this woman, like she was more than she could ever let on. Nora turned to the Diamond City Guard at her side, “Oh, and I should introduce you to my brother, Luke. I’m not sure if you two know each other or not.”

“I’m Luke, nice to meet ya,” Nora’s brother interjected before Valentine could squeeze a single word in. He thrust a hand towards Nick, who shook Luke’s hand automatically. “And c’mon sis,” Luke griped, “how could I not know about the famous Synth Detective of Diamond City? Jeez.”

Nora scoffed, and Nick slid in, “Always nice to make new friends; good to meet you, too, Luke.” The Detective looked perceptively at the slighter build in the guard, and especially focused on the large patrolman sunglasses that shielded the man’s face. “I’m not sure I recognize you. Have you been working in the City for long?” the Synth questioned.

Luke shook his head, “Nah, been working in the farms, but I got moved to Security after some training. Pays better, too. And speaking of work, I should get going. I’m still on shift.” Luke smiled in a way that was more charming than Nick thought appropriate, almost as if the man knew a secret that no one else knew. The Detective watched as Luke turned to his sister, suddenly serious as his voice dropped slightly in volume. “You’ll be okay?” he asked, a hint of worry nudging his voice towards her.

Nora rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, D-don’t worry about me, alright, Luke?” she coughed, making eye contact with her brother. “You know where to find me if anything comes up. See you tonight for dinner?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he agreed, and leaned down to kiss her quickly on the cheek. “Love you, see you tonight.”

“Love you, too,” she replied warmly, “see you tonight!”

Luke was already starting away from Nick and Nora as he called out, “Nice meeting you, Mister Valentine!”

“You as well,” Nick replied, lifted a single hand in farewell, then turned back to Nora.

The woman clapped her hands together with a broad and pleased smile on her face. “Well, how about some Nuka-Cola?”

Nick smiled. “Sounds great,” and with a beckoning gesture from Nora, the synth followed the stranger inside Home Plate.

(**)

“So, have you had a chance to look around the city, yet?” Nick asked as the door to Home Plate closed behind him.

Nora shrugged half-heartedly as she flipped the switch on the wall. Light immediately flooded the home, bits of dust floating through the air. “Not really, yet. Still getting adjusted to the new place.”

Nick looked around the newly-occupied home and whistled lowly in appreciation. “Looks like you’ve got an eye for it.” The front door opened to a couch and sofa perpendicular to each other with a low coffee table between them, centered over a patterned rug of faded purple and blue. Pictures of different scenery hung up on the wall, some of forests, a mountain, and even a tropical beach, images long forgotten by the passage of time. Along the furthest wall was Nora’s workbench, along with an icebox to keep drinks cool, a few trunks for supplies, and a doghouse and dish for her dog. The mutt lifted his head upon the duo entering, then faithfully lowered it, content as he closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

Nick followed Nora as she walked towards the ice box, and as he peered around the corner to view the rest of the home, he paused in surprise to see a large and heavy curtain draped over the entirety of the hall into the next room. The detective looked it up and down with a hint of suspicion, and asked Nora as casually as a synth detective could, “Planning on putting on a play?” he asked, wondering if she got such a thick curtain from an abandoned theater.

She looked up casually as she stood from the ice box, holding two ice cold Nuka cola’s in her hands. “Oh, that’s just my office. I like to keep work and home as divided as I can.”

“Oh, a businesswoman,” Nick allowed, reaching a hand towards Nora for the drink. She hesitated a moment before giving it to him, and he looked up at her with a question reflecting in both of their eyes. Something like shame pierced quickly through Nick, and he brought his hand back towards his chest, unable to deny the dull throb of hurt her actions had on him. Of course a beautiful woman like her wouldn’t want to touch an old synth like him. He was too strange, too weird and creepy and-

“Wait,” she interrupted his thoughts, and shifted a little awkwardly, smiling shyly. “Can you drink? I mean – is it safe for you to? I don’t want to, accidentally, short-circuit you or something.”

Relief soared through Nick, and he graced her with a chuckle and a smile, “Yes, I can drink beverages. Thank you.”

At his smile, she returned it, and handed him his soda. “Sorry, um, thanks, I mean.” They both went to sit in the living area, he on the couch and her on the single-person sofa. He could see a rickety stairwell going further up, leading to where he could see a bed and a half-filled bookshelf. The detective opened the bottle with his better hand and took a large gulp, the flavor sending off his sensors that coated his tongue, telling him that it was sweet.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured as easily as he could in light of Nora trying to be polite. “People have assumed worse.” Honestly, it was remarkably refreshing to be spending time with someone who didn’t seem bothered by his synth-ness; he’d have to ask about that. People weren’t normally so friendly to him.

She half-smiled, and took a sip of her own drink. Curious, Nick was the first to start prying. “So, what brings you to the Great Green Jewel, Nora?”

The Synth watched curiously as something settled over her face, and a half-smile curled her soft lips. “Well, I’ve lived mostly out in the Commonwealth with my family, and it was just time to do something new.” She sipped from her soda, conveniently avoiding Nick’s piercing stare.

Valentine read between the lines easily enough, and he slipped out his next question like the thought had just occurred to him. “Oh? What about your family?”

She sighed lightly and lifted her eyes back to him, something heavy and dark behind her gaze. “I lost my husband and son. They were killed by raiders. After they died there was no point in staying on the farm, so I left for Diamond City. Luke has lived here for a while; I knew he would help me out.” She ducked her head as she frowned and pursed her lips, looking like she was close to fighting back tears.

Nick tilted his head in a respectful bow. “I’m sorry,” he allowed sincerely.

Nora nodded toward him. “Thank you. It’s been a long road, but I’m ready to move forward into my new life here.”

Nick offered his own half-smile. “I understand.” He leaned back a little into the scratchy couch and gestured to the heavy maroon curtain around the corner. “So what’s your business these days? I doubt it’s farming, considering this environment.”

She smiled politely in a way that reminded Nick of the pre-war politicians, sneaky ones trying to hide something. He immediately shook his head from that thought, feeling slightly guilty that he would think of Nora like that after just meeting her. He took a sip of Nuka Cola.

Nora’s polite smile was still in place as she shrugged her shoulders a little bit. “I run a security business. Caravans, security detail at settlements, private guards for hire and the like. I have some people working under me who arrange the comings-and-goings for my workers, as well as training for new recruits. And of course, if someone has any kind of complaint, be it a customer or an employee, they can come to me and report any kind of issue, and I work with it as well as I can.” She took a sip of her drink. “Or we strike some kind of deal. Can’t always fix everything.”

“Hm, and how does that work for you?” Nick asked, toning his voice carefully so he would not come across as condescending.

Nora took no apparent offense to his question, because she shrugged lightly again and smiled a little more easily. “Not too bad, actually. Diamond City is a great place to set up as a primary office, too. Lots of people means lots of potential business, or word of where there could be good business.”

Nick couldn’t help but think of the Upper-Stand folks and the Lower-Stand ones who always looked down on as inferior while the Upper-Stands feasted on their salisbury steaks and expensive bourbon. The detective eyed Nora with a light of mischief in his tone of voice, “I don’t know what you’re talking about; people around here always get along great. No security detail needed here at all.”

He was relieved that she didn’t miss the sarcastic note in his tone, and she laughed lightly, grinning as she countered, “Well, guess I better start job-hunting elsewhere.”

It was then that Nick took note of the Pip-boy strapped to her left forearm. Dusty with faded colors, it appeared like a clumsy and clunky thing to carry around, but the strange new woman seemed to keep it well enough with a grace that told Nick she had worn it for some time. “Where you get that Pip-boy?” he asked in a cordial manner. Tech like that was rare in the Commonwealth, and if someone wasn’t from a Vault, it was picked off of a dead Vault-Dweller. Whether the keeper of it killed for it or not was open to interpretation, depending on the holder. Nick hoped this new woman wouldn’t kill someone for material possessions, even for a Pip-Boy.

Nora looked at briefly, then shrugged. “Got it off a dead Vault-Dweller I stumbled across.”

Nick couldn’t help but pry a little. “Hm. Known a few Vault-Dwellers that wander the Commonwealth. Any number in particular on their suit?”

“Vault 111,” she said without hesitation, and her eyes lifted to stare at him, a questioning challenge in her gaze. Nick recognized that she answered fast enough to let him know she wasn’t lying, and her voice rang with confidence. She was being truthful. But still, weird she would remember something like that.

He glanced away politely. “Strange. Haven’t heard of a Vault by that number before.”

Nora leaned down casually to scratch at her ankle. “Figured it was just some unlucky Vaultie not used to wandering on his own. I figured if he was dead, there was something that had to have killed him. I didn’t stick around.”

Nick chuckled, and let it be.

The woman peered up with a glint in her bright green eyes. “So tell me more about your agency, Detective Valentine.”

The two carried on for the next hour in a similar fashion. Nora turned the tables on Nick and gave him the verbal pat-down, learning who he was, what he was about, how long he had been in business. He told her easily enough what it was like as a detective (“The detective’s life is never boring”), and about his kind and observant secretary back at the office (“Real sweetheart, that Ellie,”). It seemed to be a balanced conversation as an equal amount of information was presented and exchanged on both sides. Nora was interested, particularly on Nick’s history as to how an Institute synth as old as he was managed to survive the ‘Wealth as he did.

“I miss that,” she sighed. “Work on the farm was hard, but every once in a while someone might hire us out to chase off some supermutants or raiders or something. I kind of miss that excitement.”

An ever-intrigued Nick tucked aside that information for later.

Nick found Nora to be an easy person to talk to. While she started out a tad awkwardly when it came to conversation, soon they were conversing as two close friends would. The detective found their discussion especially engaging. Every sentence and piece of information exchanged felt like an elaborate and careful dance in the form of words. One would back off as the other pressed forward, and so on and so forth. When she got going, Nora’s face became a mask of airy politeness and passive sensitivity; it left Nick not knowing where she stood on several items, but it also left him intrigued and curious. Many years had passed since he last talked to someone as challenging as she. He would ask her some another prying question, and she would dance around it in careful steps leaving a trail of truth scattered with misdirection.

The Synth Detective could not be happier.

By the time Nick managed to look at his watch, nearly 2 hours had passed; he looked apologetically at Nora and adjusted his fedora on his head.

At his gesture, Nora stood to her feet in time with him. “Well, it was swell to meet you, Mr. Valentine.”

“Likewise,” he said, and offered his skeletal hand out of habit for her to shake. Nora shook his hand as normally as she would anyone else, and he grinned, “And please, just Nick is fine.”

Nora beamed at him. “All right, Nick. I guess I’ll see you around?”

“I’m sure you will,” he allowed, and tipped his hat her way. “Thank you for the drink. See you on the streets.”

Nick didn’t miss her smile after him as he walked out the door, “See you on the streets,” she returned.

As Nick turned and walked towards Takahashi’s Noodle Stand, he just missed the exchange as one of the Diamond City guards stepped close to the dark-haired woman, pulled her aside, and whispered a request quietly in her ear.

Chapter Text

Nick just passed Publick Occurrences when he heard a familiar voice call his name.

“Nick! Hey, Nick!”

The detective halted his steps as his head turned towards the voice. “Ah, well if it isn’t Diamond City’s very own reporter Piper Wright.” The woman jogged towards him, smiling in a way that amplified the mischievous glimmer in her eyes. Nick looked her up and down carefully. “Anything I can do for ya?”

Piper grinned at his question as she stopped a pace from him, “Well, now that you mention it, I was wondering what the latest scoop was on the city, if there was anything news worthy.”

Ah, snooping. “And you’re asking me because. . .?” he led with a wryly.

The reporter answered back as easily as she could as Nick watched her with a raised eyebrow. Talking fast was a bit of a requirement for a reporter, and Piper was no exception. She rolled her eyes as she prompted the synth, “C’mon Nick,” she eased, “we both know you only ever leave Diamond City when you’re on a case.” She leaned forward, her eyes reminding Valentine of a starving dogs salivating over some Salisbury steak. “So tell me, is it anything juicy? You can tell me, honest.”

Nick chuckled at her, and stuck his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. “I can’t talk about my cases Piper, you know that. You’re gonna have to look for a story somewhere else.”

This didn’t deter her; in fact, it looked like she almost expected it as she slid a pen into a front pocket on her coat. “Eh, no matter. Do you mind if I at least go with you? Maybe we’re heading in the same direction.”

Nick saw right through her, sticking that reporter’s nose where it didn’t belong. Amused, Nick asked, “You’re heading out to the Financial District?”

He saw her hesitate for just a tick before she straightened herself and caught her words as the fast-talking began, “Yeah, the good ol’ Financial District! I’ve been keeping an eye on a story that might unravel there, and I mean, I’d tell you what it is, but a reporter can never reveal her secrets, am I right? Anyway, mind if I tag along? It’ll be just like old times.”

Nick shrugged, “Yeah, you can tag along, but I seem to remember a lot of those old times having a lot of bullets in them,” he thought out loud. Without saying more, he started walking up the ramp to the entrance of Diamond City. Piper hurried to catch up so they could walk side-by-side.

The reporter snorted and waved a hand at him, “Pfft! So what if there’s bullets? Everyone needs a little excitement now and then. But don’t worry, if you want to take it a little slower, we can take the easy way to, what, the Old Skybridge? Going to investigate the rumors of a Death Claw living on the rooftop of an apartment building? Trust me, Nicky, I’ve investigated that one and I couldn’t find anything.”

The detective laughed under his breath, “Try Goodneighbor.”

Piper paused briefly and her footsteps staggered before she hurried to go to Nick’s side. He could tell the answer had thrown her off in a moment of surprise and maybe a flicker of fear. “Goodneighbor?” she asked, incredulous. “Why are we going there?”

“Well, I’m going there for my case, and I thought you said you had a story brewing up that way?” Nick asked, smirking smugly.

She stammered to catch up as she plastered on a fake grin, “I-I did! I do! Yup, Goodneighbor! Lots of excitement there, just what a reporter like me needs!”

Nick kept up the smirk, and he didn’t miss the exasperated expression that fell over Piper’s face as they passed through the entrance of Diamond City

~~**~~

The Synth Detective eased the door to Goodneighbor open with a careful hand, keeping an eye out for any trouble as he and the Diamond City Reporter squeezed through. The door closed behind them, and while a few of the local residents looked their way, no one approached the pair as they made their way to the Old State House.

Before Nick went through the door, he turned to Piper. “Maybe you want to go to the Third Rail and get a drink until I’m done. It shouldn’t be long.”

“You’re ditching me already?” the reporter teased to hide some of the fear beneath her voice. “It’s gonna take more than a drink to get me away from all this excitement, Mr. Valentine. Please,” she allowed, gesturing him ahead, “lead the way.”

Nick allowed his face to form into a careful glower, “Piper, I’m serious. This is personal business for my client, and I’m not at liberty to reveal anything that might-”

“Nick,” she interrupted, and the detective paused at the slight tremor in her voice. It sounded a lot like fear. “It’s all off-the-record, okay? I don’t even have to go into the room with you, I just don’t want to wander too far away.” She fidgeted and Nick saw her slender fingers tap in rapid succession against her upper thigh. The reporter was nervous.

Nick could have taken this moment to tease her a bit -What? Diamond City’s reporter scared of a few ghouls with guns?- but Nick’s manners kept him in check as he pulled the brim of his hat down just a tad. “Sure,” he agreed. “Just hang outside the door and wait for me. I shouldn’t be too long.”

He watched as her shoulders deflated in slight relief. “Thanks, Nick,” she breathed.

He turned the doorknob and opened the door to the Old State House. “Sure, what are friends for.”

The Diamond City denizens made their way into the building, casting cursory glances to the Neighborhood Watch, who eyed the Synth Detective and Diamond City reporter as they passed. Nick climbed the stairs, already hearing the scarred ghoulish voice of-

“Hancock,” Nick greeted as he stood at the entrance of the Mayor’s room. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and there was a friendly smirk lining his synth-worn face.

“Valentine!” the Mayor greeted, grinning as he threw himself from the couch, his arms flung open wide. “How long has it been? Last I heard, you got tangled up with Skinny Malone’s gang. Was almost gonna send someone out to get ‘cha.” As Nick walked into the room, Hancock reached out so the old friends clasped hands firmly with each other in a familiar handshake. “Figured you would be on my tail sooner or later after the big event, didn’t think it would take so long, really.”

Nick raised a brow and withdrew his hand back into his pocket. “The big event?” he echoed.

Confusion shadowed the Mayor’s expression. “Now don’t tell me the Great Synth Detective didn’t hear about the fall of the Institute? The explosion shook the whole Commonwealth; how could anyone miss that?”

Clarity fell over Nick’s mind. “Oh, the Institute. I’m not actually here about that.”

“Oh,” Hancock’s voice fell flat, and he looked dumbfounded for just a moment before that easy-going mask lifted over his face. “Then what gives me the pleasure of your visit, Nicky?”

Nick’s suspicion grew, and his gaze narrowed thoughtfully.

“Here on a case,” he replied. “Got some questions for you, in case you know anything.”

Hancock gestured to the couches in the room with a casual turn of his hand, “C’mon in, then. Sit down. Want a drink?” The Mayor turned and made his way towards the back counter.

Nick followed his old friend into the room and sat on the couch opposite Hancock’s right-hand man, Fahrenheit. The woman looked at Nick nonchalantly and said nothing upon Nick’s interaction with her mayor, and she continued to say nothing as he sat across from her. Nick shook himself alert as he answered Hancock, “I’ll pass on the drink, maybe another time.”

“Suit yourself,” Hancock shrugged. The ghoul reached or something on the counter; Nick thought it might be a drink, but was unsurprised when the Mayor held up a red tube of Jet. He leaned against the counter, and took a deep inhale as he brought the chem up to his lips.

Nick raised a brow towards the Mayor and asked with a conspiratorial smirk. “Speaking of the Institute, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about it’s downfall, would you?”

“Don’t know a thing,” Hancock answered a bit too quickly after he breathed out his dose of Jet. “Wish I knew who finally pushed the button so I could thank them.”

Nick didn’t believe a word of it, but that wasn’t what he was here for, so he let it be.

“What’s this about then?” Hancock asked when a few beats of silence passed by.

Nick figured he might as well cut to the quick. He glanced furtively at Fahrenheit, but he spoke candidly. “Do you know anything about the Angels?”

A palpable tension settled over the people gathered in the room. Hancock broke it when he chuckled, and took another shot of Jet. “Heh. didn’t take you as one who would chase things that didn’t exist, Nick.”

Nick held a neutral expression. “We can debate on if they exist or not another day. Regardless, there’s a murderer on the loose, and I’m chasing after him. I have suspicions that whoever killed the victim may be part of a gang, maybe the Angels, maybe not. I just wanted to know if you knew anything about them from your ears around the Commonwealth.”

Hancock looked considerate for a few beats, then spoke roughly towards the person sitting on the couch across from Nick. “Fahrenheit,” he growled. “Wait for me outside. I’ll call you in when we’re done here.”

Fahrenheit cast a perfunctory glance towards Nick, her eyebrows raised. Nick had the sudden feeling of being judged, but he let it pass over him as the stoic woman stood without a word, and made her way to the double doors.

Only when Fahrenheit was gone did Hancock release a breath and walk towards Nick. He tossed the Jet back to the counter and let himself fall heavily onto the couch. The Mayor sat himself up and inched forward so he sat on the very edge of the seat. Nick mirrored his position, attentive to the sudden change of mood. His hands steepled together in his lap. “Listen, Nick,” Hancock started, “We go way back; you’re a good man, and a good friend, so I’m gonna give it to you straight.” Hancock met Nick’s gaze heavily, and the Mayor’s voice dropped. “What you’re doing, what you’re chasing after,” he shook his head, “it’s not there. You need to leave it at that, trust me.”

Stubborn determination filled Nick at once, and he pressed his lips together so they formed a thin line. “Someone has been murdered, Hancock,” the detective reminded darkly. “Someone’s son that is missed and loved. I’m going to find who did this, whether the Angels are real or not, ya hear me?”

Hancock grunted and leaned back into the couch, smirking, “Cheesy as ever, jeez.” When Nick didn’t say anything more, the Mayor groaned and threw his arms over the back of the couch. “Listen, man, even if the Angels did exist, this doesn’t sound like their kind of style, ya feel me?”

Nick frowned. “How so?”

Hancock’s head tilted back so it rested against the frame of the couch. “Man, Nick, didn’t think I was going to be the one doing the detective work today.”

Out of fear that Hancock would shut down and not reveal anything, Nick kept his trap shut while he pressed his lips together to keep himself quiet. Hancock looked his way smugly and lifted his head so it no longer rested on the couch frame. “Brother, you ever wonder why they’re called the Angels?”

Nick did not answer. Hancock took this as encouragement to continue, so he went on, “It’s because whenever someone blames a murder on them, it was a mercy kill.”

The idea of a ‘mercy kill’ was an oxymoron in Nick’s mind, and it must have shown on his face, because Hancock tossed his head back in deep-throated laughter. “Hah! I’m serious. The people who were supposedly killed by these Angels,” Hancock paused, “total assholes.”

“Being an ‘asshole’ isn’t motive for killing someone, John, regardless of your own philosophy, of course,” Nick returned. The Mayor’s ruthless nature was legendary across the Commonwealth; he gave travelers a reason to fear the place called Goodneighbor, home of the Ghoul Mayor John Hancock.

Hancock chuckled, not denying Nick’s jab. “True, but I’m not talking big-mouth, thinks-highly-of-himself ego asshole.” Hancock’s voice dropped, “I’m talking your abusive, rapist, leave-you-in the trash asshole. People who deserved to die. So believe me, if someone has come to you crying wolf that the Angels killed their loved one, they’re either lying, or they didn’t know their loved one as well as they thought they did.” Hancock leaned back into the couch and lifted one leg to cross it over his knee so his ankle rested on his leg.

Nick’s eyes widened. This was certainly new information. Then he regarded his friend with newfound suspicion. “And how did you come to know all this Hancock? Didn’t think your informants would learn this much about a group that doesn’t exist.”

Something in Hancock’s eyes hardened. His voice sounded . . . protective. “Done some traveling, recently.” He tried to add a casual tone into his voice, but Nick had already taken note of his guarded tone. “Rumors and all that. You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Nick said, his tone flat. “Travel anywhere in particular?”

“Not really. Just around. Getting a feel for the people of the ‘Wealth. You feel me?”

“Hm,” Nick hummed noncommittally. “Did you travel with anyone during this tour?”

“Just a gun-for-hire from town,” Hancock answered breezily. “She might be around if you want to talk to her, but she might already be on her next job; she’s pretty popular.”

Something in Hancock’s demeanor didn’t sit right with the Detective, and he pried further, watching for more revealing tells from the deceptively comfortable mayor. “Sure, I think I will. What’s her name?”

Hancock’s eyebrows knit together in an expression that might be close to disapproval. “Samantha,” he ground out. “Her name is Samantha.”

Feeling his time was running up, Nick started to heave himself to his feet, a ‘thank you’ about to leave his mouth as the double doors behind the two burst open, and a harried ghoul stumbled in, wide-eyed and panting. “Mayor!” he croaked from his weary voice, scratchy from what appeared to be an exhausting run. “News! From Diamond City!”

Nick only had time for his eyes to widen in surprise. He startled from a loud slam and turned to see Hancock had slammed his open palms on the table as he stood to his menacing height of 6 feet. “What did I tell you about this, Johnson?! Do not enter my room when I have a guest. This is the third time-”

“But sir!” the man interrupted, his voice shaking with apparent fear. “I-It’s your brother!”

Hancock scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What, did he ban children from entering the city, now? I told you, he has nothing to do with me anymore; I don’t want to hear you refer to him as-”

“He’s dead.”

Hancock’s words cut off as his voice died. From behind the messenger, Nick saw Piper standing in the doorway, her mouth gaping in shock as a single statement stuttered from her lips.

“Guess I have my story.”

Chapter Text

Nick accompanied a dark and glowering Hancock back to Diamond City as Piper followed closely, walking as close to Nick as possible. The trio said hardly a word on their way through the ruins of Boston, and they made it in record time as the green wall suddenly loomed high above them. They passed a security guard as they walked under the archway into the city.

“Hey! No ghouls allowed in- Oh,” he fumbled for words, “s-sorry Mister Mayor!” Nick cast a glance over his shoulder to see the guard walk faster in the opposite direction.

“The city’s brightest and bravest,” Piper rolled her eyes.

Once past the gates, Nick grabbed the attention of another guard, asking where the murder scene was. It took a moment for the man to adjust to the sight of a reporter, a mayor, and a detective all together (sounded like the beginning of a bad joke), and directed them to the Mayor’s office with some encouragement from Nick (“I’m a detective, Jones. What do you think I want to see the murder scene for?”)

The body was in McDonough’s office next to his terminal. The former Mayor was sprawled in a position on his back that made Nick’s rusty joints ache, his arms and legs bent awkwardly, his eyes open and staring at nothing as his mouth opened forever in an expression of surprise and fear.

Piper pressed close behind Nick as the Detective went into full investigation mode. Out of habit, he reached into his pocket for a cigarette and his lighter. He lit the end with deft and experienced fingers, the cigarette familiar in his right hand as he cast a cursory glance to the rest of the room.

The secretary, Geneva, stood sobbing into the arms of a security guard who awkwardly pat her shoulder in whatever comfort he could provide. No point in asking her anything right now, not in the state she was in.

The rest of the room was filled with senior guards who paced the area, and another, smaller group, that blocked the way towards the former Mayor’s body. Nick turned his attention towards Hancock. The man stood a couple of steps from the body, his mouth turned in a frown as he stared with something close to . . disappointment? Perhaps regret? Nick couldn’t place his finger on it, but he offered no words of comfort as he looked thoughtfully at the corpse. His eyes scanned it with practiced thought as the gears turned in his head. While he stared, every wire and gear in the detective went cold as he saw a single white feather tucked in the front pocket of McDonough’s jacket.

Nick frowned, and he grunted under his breath.

Blast it.

He brought the cigarette up to his lips for another deep inhale of nicotine. So the murderer was either with the Angels, or encouraging the myth of them. Unfortunately, Nick found that he couldn’t decide which was which. What he did know was that word of this would spread fast, no matter how much the guards swore to secrecy. It wouldn’t take long before the Commonwealth was buzzing about the Mayor of Diamond City being killed by the admired and feared Angels.

“It’s the Archangel,” Piper breathed behind him.

Nick looked to the reporter standing next to the solemn Hancock. Both men lifted their eyebrows at her. “The Archangel?” Nick dared to ask.

Piper shifted uncomfortably, and she bit her lip. “The leader of the Angels,” she explained. “Anytime there’s a white feather, it’s supposed to be from the Archangel for something super serious.” She frowned, “But for what?”

Nick didn’t like the feeling this case was giving him. For every answer offered, he seemed to pull up twice as many questions. He didn’t comment on what Piper said, and instead bowed his head as he crouched above the body. “The Archangel, huh?” he drawled.

“Luke!”

Nick looked up curiously to see Nora of all people as she hurried into the office from the creaking outside elevator. The frantic woman paid no heed to the people crowding in the room, her eyes only on her brother Luke, who opened his arms to embrace his sister in a one-sided hug. “Nora!” he gasped, surprised. “Not that I’m not surprised to see you or anything, but what are you doing here? This is sort of a crime scene.”

She frowned at him, “I heard there was a murder, and I was worried about you. What do you think?”

Luke chuckled, “I’m fine, sis. You’re as bad as Mom.”

The pair laughed quietly at each other from their personal joke, and Nick marveled at how easily the two could fall into their own little world from just a few exchanged words. The detective tried to reign himself back into the crime scene, but the graveled voice of Hancock distracted him as he rumbled out, “Nora? What’re you doing here, sunshine?”

They know each other? Nick couldn’t help but think. It was difficult to picture the slight woman and firm ghoul being close with each other, but Nick watched quietly from the side-lines as the woman left her brother’s embrace. She sidled to the feared Mayor of Goodneighbor and hugged him. Nick watched with startled, raised eyebrows as she wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her head into his chest. “I’m so sorry about your brother, John, I’m so sorry.”

To Nick’s even greater surprise, Hancock hugged back. “Thanks, sunshine,” he murmured into her hair as he slid his firm arms around her. “Means a lot.” Nick couldn’t take his eyes off of them. And did she just call him John? The Synth Detective struggled to keep his mouth from dropping in shock, and instead shifted uncomfortably as he watched the exchange occur. Nora started explaining how she had moved to Diamond City, and the mindless chatter allowed Nick to divert his attention back to the body. He observed the position the body lay in, and the bullet holes tattered through his bloody chest. There were six bullets, a full round, and all were closely concentrated to the center of McDonough’s chest, close to his heart.

“Any reports of gunshots?” Nick rumbled.

The closest guard shook his head. “No, not a thing.”

Must have used a silencer. Not that difficult to come by in these days. Nick leaned close and studied the wounds when he noticed the way McDonough’s head was tilted, exposing a particular part of his neck. A deep gash, piercing through flesh, exposed something glimmering and metallic.

What the- Nick reached with his metallic hand, parting the gash with careful fingers as he tried to get a better look at what was buried in the neck of the dead Mayor. Valentine’s eyes narrowed, and with his more able hand, he reached into an inside pocket of his trench coat, retrieving a pair of tweezers. With careful and precise movements, Nick extended the tweezers into the cut. They pinched onto the edge of the glimmering material, and with a firm tug, Nick withdrew a small, compact device. “Got news for you, Hancock,” he said, his voice low as he held up the metallic chip for the others to see.

Hancock’s frown deepened, and Nick sighed as he looked more closely at the device, stained in blood. The metal beneath shimmered in the light as Nick turned it back and forth with the tweezers, and he looked over to Hancock.

“This man wasn’t your brother.”

The whole room went still.

Nora’s eyes narrowed.

Nick sighed, “He was a synth.”

A collective gasp passed through the onlookers. It would have been funny if there wasn’t a dead man lying on the floor.

Hancock tightened his palms into fists, then bowed his head. His voice grumbled, “My brother died a long time ago. I didn’t know this man. Synth or not, he was made to be like my brother, and he was always a giant ass whether he was human or not.” The ghoul took a deep breath, and let it out in a shuddering exhale. “I mourned his passing a long time ago.”

“What can you tell us about the body, Nick?” Piper asked softly while she stood nearby. Hancock turned away, and Nora leaned in close to his side, whispering words Nick couldn’t pick up.

Nick glanced back to Piper from beneath his fedora. “See how he’s on his back? Means the killer got him from the front, close-range. It was somebody he knew, or at least somebody he thought wouldn’t have attacked him. And this-” Valentine traced the edges of the open gash on the back of the Mayor’s neck with a single, skeletal finger, “this cut was intentional. It was a message from the killer so we would know that the Mayor was a synth.”

“Killed by the Archangel, was this some kind of justice for a terrible crime?” Piper asked in a soft and awed tone. “What did the Mayor do that was so bad he deserved to die?”

“This,” Valentine gestured with his hand to the body as he snarled in return, “is not justice. Killing whoever you want just because you can is not justice. That’s not how things should be done, not here in Diamond City. It’s not the Mayor’s fault he is who he is.”

Thoughtful silence permeated the room for several seconds. It was Nora who broke it when she asked, “So where do we go from here?”

Nick glanced at her, observing the hardened determination that steeled her gaze, and he found himself addressing her directly. “I’ll interview the guards that were nearby, see what they know, and we’ll go from there.” Nick turned his gaze so it focused on a quietly sobbing Geneva. “Ms. Geneva,” he called, his voice gentle.

The woman hiccuped. “Y-Yes.”

Nick bowed his head thoughtfully. “You were closest to the Mayor. It seems only fit that you would replace him, now that he’s gone.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “M-Me? As Mayor? But-but I don’t know first thing about-”

Nora stepped in, “You were part of Mayor McDonough’s daily schedule; you knew what he did and could watch how he did it. Trust us, Geneva, you’re the best person for the job.” Her honeyed words had the right effect. Geneva straightened her back a little as her posture adjusted.

“You’re right,” she said. “I did know the mayor best. I-I’ll try to fill his shoes then, and more.”

Nick glanced at Nora, and his appreciation grew.

“Better get to work, then,” he said, standing and moving away from the body. “I’ve learned all I can from the corpse. Best to bury it, now.”

The guards moved in at once, although slightly hesitant at the prospect of picking up the Mayor’s dead body. Nick moved aside, inching himself towards Nora and the others. Hancock was leaning his side into Nora, whispering in her ear with one hand placed on her shoulder. Nick’s eyes read his lips as the ghoul whispered, “We need to talk,” as Nora nodded solemnly in agreement.

Nick’s intrigue of his woman grew as his golden eyes flickered between the two peas in a pod. “Wasn’t aware you two knew each other.”

Both looked at Nick, and Hancock grinned. “Yeah, Nora and I used to do some traveling together, back in the day. Glad we keep in touch.” His hand on her shoulder squeezed in an affectionate manner.

Nick glanced between the two of them. “Friends with the Mayor of Goodneighbor, gotta say, I’m impressed. You’re quite the woman, Nora.” Nick ducked his head down briefly, not used to saying such flowery things.

A candid blush spread through Nora’s face at Nick’s words, and Hancock threw back his head in raucous laughter, pulling Nora closer against his side as he guffawed. “Ha-ha! She really is, Nicky! Best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, I’ll tell you that.”

“Thanks, Hancock; ‘means a lot,” Nora returned a little more quietly, her blush deepening by the moment.

“Anytime, sunshine,” he murmured, tilting his head down so he could whisper it against her hair. His voice dropped to a private whisper, and Nick glanced away politely, but he still heard the Mayor urge. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Nora nodded in agreement, leaning into Hancock’s touch as the ghoul pressed his thin and chapped lips to the crown of her head in a kiss. Nick expected her to grimace in disgust, but Nick reminded himself to stop underestimating this woman, because she leaned into the affectionate action by the Mayor, closing her eyes briefly at the contact. Nick felt something in his chest warm, and he didn’t think it was his fans malfunctioning.

The Mayor parted ways with Nora, both exchanging gentle smiles with the other before Hancock turned to Nick, “Take care of this one, Nick. She’s trouble. And-” he paused, lowered his voice to a grateful murmur, “thanks for helpin’ out. Never got along with my brother, especially when he became a giant ass and kicked out the ghouls from Diamond City. Suppose he might have been replaced by a Synth, but he’s always been a pretentious Upper-Stander for a long time.” Hancock shifted his weight from foot to foot before leaning in closer, “Don’t worry yourself about finding whoever did this. Synth or not, my brother died to me a long time ago.”

“Can’t let something like this go, Hancock, but I’ll remember that. Trust me, this won’t be a campaign for revenge.”

Hancock nodded curtly, then with a final good-bye to Nora, walked back to the elevator that would lead him to the entrance of the Great Green Jewel. Luke then bid his sister good-bye before following the other guards out of the room as Piper tagged behind for a statement, leaving Nick and Nora the room as Geneva sat on the couch. Tears still streamed down her face, but she was quiet as she contemplated the weight of her new position.

Nick started to tip his hat in farewell to Nora, but her smooth voice grabbed his attention, “Hey Valentine.”

He turned to her curiously. “Yeah?” he asked.

She gave a partial smile his way. “I had a nice time this afternoon. See you tomorrow for another drink? I mean-” she looked flustered for a moment, “if you’d like to. I’m not expecting a lot of business for a little while, and it was nice to have some company.”

Nick would have flushed with warmth if he were human, but he wasn’t, so he just blinked in total surprise. “Well, sure.” He hesitated. “I’m actually a little behind on some of my work; you mind if I bring it over to work on?”

“Not at all,” she assured, grinning. “See you tomorrow.”

She turned smoothly on one heel and took the outdoor elevator to the lower stands, leaving Nick at the crime scene, his hands in his pockets and his cigarette burning in his mouth.

Chapter Text

Nick stood at Nora’s door the next day, a handful of files held under his arm and a jumble of thoughts as he knocked. When he heard Nora’s “Come in!” through the wood, he pushed the heavy red door open, sidling in and closing it shut behind him.

Nora came bobbing down the stairs straight above his head, wearing only a loose white t-shirt and jeans with the legs cut off so the fabric went to her mid-thigh. They were worn and maybe a tad too big for her, probably in an added attempt at comfort, especially in the Commonwealth heat. “Hey Nick!” she greeted, “Good to see you. Got some cases to work on?”

“Always another case to close,” he joked, chuckling. “Thanks for letting me bring them with. I’m not leaving you hanging, am I?”

Nora shook her head, dark hair flying about her as she did. “Nah, I have a book I’ve been working on, anyway. And I don’t mind some quiet.”

“Well I do appreciate it,” Nick thanked with a tip of his hat, moving towards the couch to sit down. He laid the files onto the table, looking at them thoughtfully as he got comfortable. Nora easily moved around Home Plate, reaching into the ice box for a couple of Nuka-Cola drinks.

“No problem, Nick,” she said with a gracious smile. “You’re welcome anytime.”

The old synth smiled gratefully before leaning over the table to start going over the old cases, as well as pondering this new one- the murder of Mayor McDonough. It couldn’t just be a coincidence, right? That as soon as Nick starts his investigation of the Angels, an assassination of an Upper-Stander occurs.

While buried in his thoughts, Nora sat nearby at her usual spot on the sofa, a book in tow as she sat back with her bubbly drink. She laid one on the table close to Nick, who nodded in wordless thanks as he extended his hand to the take it.

The nuka-cola bubbled pleasantly on his tongue as he sipped the drink. Time slid past the two as they sat in companionable silence. Every minute or so, the it would be disturbed by the turn of a page, or a gentle sigh as a ceiling fan whirred overhead.

After a while, Nora’s voice interrupted the train of thought that was Valentine’s processors. “Do you mind if I ask about the case you’re working on?”

Nick looked up to the curious woman, her eyes sharp and intense behind thick-rimmed eyeglasses, before shrugging half-heartedly. “Sure. Always appreciate a helpful eye.”

Nora closed her book, the movement almost eager, and placed it on the sofa as she stood to sit next to Valentine. The synth scooted over a couple of bumps to make room for her, and he wondered at at how easily she pressed their thighs against each other like he was a normal human instead of a century-old synth of wires and metal.

“So what’s this case about?” Nora asked plainly, wide green eyes curious as she leaned over the table, scanning the file alertly.

Nick cleared his throat, adjusting to her proximity as he went into detail about an old partner of his leaving in a fit of rage, and how he was now missing. Nora listened silently, taking in all this information with thinly pressed lips and a solemnity in her eyes. Nick had nearly finished explaining the details when she stood up with some gusto and declaring, “Well we better get a move on then, shouldn’t we?”

Blinking, Nick looked up at her, his head tilted back curiously. “Um, head out after Marty? But we don’t know if-”

Nora made a face, “C’mon, Nick. It shouldn’t be that hard, and I’m restless. Let’s go find him.”

Nick chuckled, “Gee, doll, I don’t know how easy you think this is going to be, I mean it’s a pretty long shot. And it’ll be dangerous, I don’t know if I can go out there with a clear conscience and-”

“Hey, Nick,” her voice called to him, and he looked up. She strapped on a sheathe for a machete over her back and another around her waist for multiple weapons and supplies. “I think I can take care of myself. C’mon, let’s go get your partner back.”

(**)

The two came back home to Diamond City that evening covered in supermutant blood and guts, but relatively unharmed. Nick felt some grief for losing his old partner, and Nora offered what comfort she could, but Nick assured her that it was the kind of life Marty lived, regardless. Nothing more to do about it.

The two parted ways that evening to get some rest and cleaned up. When Valentine saw her the next day, she smiled and greeted him with a rare hot cup of fresh coffee, despite the early hour. The two chatted about the previous day’s case, and Nick presented her with another one, this time one with some relevance to Diamond City and one of it’s chief medical staff.

Nora’s face lit up, eyes hungry as the two poured over the details of the case before going into the city to conduct a deeper investigation.

Nick delighted in how easily he and Nora worked together. While he managed to play the part of someone familiar that the people of the city recognized, Nora worked the citizens of Diamond City with a silver tongue. People fell under her spell, revealing information no one else knew, and Nick teased her after working some information out of tight-lipped Mirva, despite her distaste for Valentine.

“Could use that charmed tongue of yours more often,” Nick teased, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Guess I just have the magic touch,” she shrugged, grinning like the cat who caught the canary as the duo made their way to the medical den of Dr. Sun, key held in hand.

And so it went for the Synth Detective and the beautiful Commonwealth farmer. There wasn’t a case to solve every day, but Nick often reminded “The detective’s life is never dull,” and so far, he had proven it to be quite true (though Malcolm Latimer’s folder remained unsolved in a file at the office). With Nora at his side, the pair were unstoppable. Not a case passed by that they couldn’t solve while watching each others’ back. It wasn’t long before Nora was asking Valentine if he would accompany her on jobs she had to do, promising to split the caps for whatever they earned.

“We might pick up some more cases,” she said in an effort to convince him. “There’s more people than just in Diamond City who might need a detective.”

Honestly, she didn’t even need to say that much to get him to agree. He simply ducked his head to shield his eyes, and told her to give him some time to get some things ready. She was more than pleased by his answer, her smile stretching ear-to-ear as she told him that she would be at Home Plate when he was ready.

Nick hurried to grab his things, while Ellie watched in plain amusement, her smirk the picture of smug as the detective reached for repair kits and extra parts to take along with him.

“You’ll be all right, Ellie?” he asked, unable to stop himself from worrying about his loyal secretary. “You can manage the office while I’m gone?” There was no knowing how long this little outing would go, how much time would pass before he entered the Great Green Jewel again.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Nick, I’ll be fine. You just go out there with Nora and stay safe. Besides, I’m too happy for you to say no, anyway.”

“Happy about what?” he asked, adjusting his hat on his head. His yellow eyes flickered over to her, blinking curiously.

The smirk lining Ellie’s face deepened, and she looked about ready to break into laughter. “C’mon, Nick, you and that Nora are thicker than thieves these days. I guess... I’m just happy to see you found someone, y’know?”

Nick wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. His metal hand faltered as he struggled to pick up an extra pack of unopened cigarettes for the road. “Found someone?” he echoed, uncertain.

“Y’know, someone who makes you happy, who.. wants the same for the Commonwealth. Someone who cares about you,. . .” her smirk was positively devious now, and Valentine’s gears whirred with activity as he put together what she was hinting at.

“Ellie,” he chastised. “It’s not like that between Nora and I. She’s quite the gal, sure, but I don’t think she’s that type of woman and I’m not that type of synth ready to-”

The secretary threw back her head in a high-pitched giggle, “What? Nick, I meant your partner.”

Nick pressed his lips together, displeased at the twinkle in Ellie’s eyes. She even dared to tease him with a false-innocent bat of her eyelashes as she leaned against the desk. “Why? What did you mean?”

The detective scoffed under his breath, attaching his pistol to his hip as he counted that everything he owned was in order. “You’re terrible, Ellie,” he grumbled, embarrassment flushed through him. He was grateful he didn’t have the mechanical capability to actually blush.

Ellie chortled and stepped closer to him so she could adjust his tie. “I know, I’m sorry for teasing. Still though, it’s nice to see you get along with someone for a change, and as something besides acquaintances.” She gave him a fond, warm look, and Nick felt so cared for as he was doted on, like by a mother or a sister, from his gentle secretary.

A smile curled half-way up his face. “Thanks, Ellie,” he grumbled. “You’re too good to me.”

“I know I am,” she laughed quietly, then leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Stay safe out there. I certainly feel better knowing you have someone to watch your back. Any idea of when you’ll be back?”

“Not a clue,” he answered, turning to open the office door. “See you in a few.”

(**)

Nick let himself into Home Plate quietly, bracing himself for Dogmeat to come running up to greet him like he usually did, but the playful dog was curiously absent. Nick closed the door softly behind him, his eyes scanning the room as he caught onto the sound of quiet talking beyond the thick curtain.

Curiosity coursed through Nick as he wondered what was being said, but courtesy kept him from encroaching on Nora’s privacy. After all, that was the side of Home Plate she conducted business on, dealing with clients and such. Wouldn’t be professional of him to evesdrop.

He instead sat on the couch, where he usually did, and waited silently for Nora to reappear behind the heavy red wine curtain.

The quiet talking went on for several minutes (seventeen, to be exact, but who was counting?) until Nick heard the sound of another door opening and closing, followed by silence, and then a continued conversation on the other side of the room. Tuning his head, he tried to pick out some of what was being said, or at least.. whoever was speaking. He could recognize Nora’s voice easily, but the other was harder to place. Either way, her voice sounded upset, despite her soft tone.

With a twinge of guilt, but driven by that detective’s curiosity and tendency to snoop, Valentine carefully adjusted his audio processors.

“-don’t have time to argue about this, Deacon. It’ll be fine. Just let Bulls-eye know about his next objective and send word to me when it’s done.” Her tone was curt, final. Authoritative. Nick had never heard her speak like this. He frowned softly.

“Just-look I just don’t want you to get hurt and watch this all unravel,” the other voice pleaded, respectful but desperate for her to hear him. “I don’t want all of our work to be wasted for nothing.” The voice was male, and sounded familiar, though Nick couldn’t place it.

“It won’t,” she assured him.

Silence for a few seconds, and then a heavy sigh. The unknown speaker relented. “Just. . . watch yourself out there, okay? I know you trust him,” Nick perked up, “and he is a good man, I’ll give him that, but if he-”

“I know.” Her voice dropped heavily, frustration clear in her tone. It silenced the man, and she sighed more softly. “I know you’re just worried about me, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been in tougher situations than this.”

So this was about him, about Nick. Someone who cared for Nora.. worried about her traveling with him? Because he was a synth, maybe? Nick couldn’t place who was speaking though, and he thought he knew everyone in Diamond City. Perhaps a work associate? A close business partner, someone who was close enough to Nora to speak so candidly with her.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” the man went on. “I’m worried you’ll get too comfortable -already comfortable- and will compromise everything we’ve built.”

“It won’t happen, I won’t let it.”

Another tense silence. For a moment, Nick wondered if the two had slipped out of a back entrance without him catching it, but Nora sighed again, and her voice murmured out even more softly, “Thanks for watching my back, Deacon. I know I can count on you.”

“Hey, anytime, Wanderer. Just. . . watch yourself.”

“I will.”

A creaking door opened, then closed. Nick sat up straighter, his fingers tapping together in quick succession. His eyes watched the heavy wine-red curtain expectantly, and it was only a moment later when Nora slid her way past the dark fabric. She didn’t see Nick at first, so he was able to see the candid frown that marred her features. She looked terribly bothered by something, and curiosity spurred Nick to speak.

“Everything all right?” he asked, voice quiet.

Nora’s head spun in Nick’s direction, her face incapable of hiding her surprise at seeing him. “Nick!” she exclaimed, and he saw the struggle for her to maintain her composure and fit the metaphorical mask back over her face. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon. Have you been waiting long?”

“No,” he replied, and stood to his feet, but didn’t approach. He tugged at the rim of the hat on his head, waiting for her to say something more. When she didn’t, he found the nerve to voice, “Listen, doll, if there’s something going on, some trouble you’re in that you need to talk about-”

“Thank you, Nick,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m not in any trouble. It’s just,” and she sighed, “business trouble. That was my brother in the room, worried about me going out, not sure if my business would be all right depending on how long I’m gone.” She cast a sad smirk Nick’s way, and cast her eyes down. “He means well, really. Just doesn’t like being separated ever since,” and her voice dropped off at the thought of her passed husband and son.

A swoop of shame went through Nick, his chest heavy. “Sorry, doll,” he hurried to correct himself. “Just want to know you’re okay.”

A grateful expression passed over her face as she met his eyes from behind her glasses. “Thanks, Nick. I’m fine.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but he allowed her to fall back into quiet as she moved about to start gathering her own things. “So,”she said with a strong exhale, looking at him with a growing optimism in her eyes. “You ready to go?”

His smile was thin, and he hid it beneath the brim of his fedora. “More than ever.”

Chapter Text

Set with supplies, Nick let Nora know as they were heading out of Diamond City. “This is your show, now. I’ll follow you; just let me know where we’re going and I’ll be with you the whole way.”

She grinned at that, and pulled up her Pip-boy to scan the map.

Nick observed her quietly as she considered their options -where they wanted to go, what they wanted to do- and contemplated how he had missed this. He had missed traveling with a familiar, someone he felt who could maybe connect to his ideals, and still crave that burst of adventure.

Nora’s voice interrupted his musings, and he looked her way at the apologetic tone in her voice. “I have a couple of errands I need to make to some settlements. . . do you mind tagging along for that before we do anything major?”

Settlements? Nick picked out from her question. More than one? “Sure, doll,” he answered smoothly. “Whatever you need to get done, I’ll be there.”

She smiled gratefully at him, then turned her attention back to her Pip-boy as she entered the coordinates. “So we’ll be heading to Graygarden first. I need to do some trade with them, and they owe me for a job. After that we’ll keep heading Northwest until we reach Sunshine Tidings Co-op. I got word they’re having a problem, I think raiders..” She stopped to heave in a breath. “After that we should be clear to head to Sanctuary for some rest and a restock of supplies. Then once we do that we’ll be clear to check in on anything else that’s going on.” She frowned thoughtfully and bit her bottom lip. “I think I have an extra job lined up at Bunker Hill. . .”

Nick’s head spun as she listed off settlements from their agenda for their journey. “Damn, Nora,” he breathed, chuckling. “Did you organize time to sleep, too?”

She merely glanced at him before replying, “When we get to Sanctuary.”

The Synth Detective couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, and he shook his head lightly. “Didn’t know you were the busiest dame in the Commonwealth.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, hefting her pack against her back so it rested more comfortably. “You don’t really know much about me to begin with.”

“True,” Nick smirked in allowance. “Suppose this will be a good time to get to know one another more, what with all the traveling we’ll be doing.”

She looked him up and down quickly, the corner of her lips twitching into a smirk. “I guess we will.”

~~

Their steps along the pavement were amplified by the empty silence in the air as the sound bounced off abandoned buildings. Nick kept close pace with Nora, pulling tightly on his fedora when a dry breeze brushed along the rim. The woman at his side kept a swift step in her stride, arms pumping and bare of any weapons. “I want to make good time,” she said without him having to say anything. “It should take a short while to get to Graygarden to collect, but after that it’s a mostly uphill hike to get to Sunshine Tidings, and then we have to cross this bridge over the dam that usually has lots of raiders or supermutants and-”

“Been around the block a few times, haven’t you?” Nick called, a smile in his voice as he matched her pace easily after adjusting some minor settings in his legs.

She gave a subdued smile in turn, the wind brushing her hair back around her ears. “I’ve done a lot of traveling since leaving the farm.”

“No kiddin’” Nick allowed, eyeing her subtlety. “Didn’t know you had so many connections with such a great number of settlements.”

“Traveling,” is what she said. “Alliances. Treat people right, and they’ll do right by you. And I’m proud of my caravan business and how far it’s come.”

A warmth passed through Nick at her words, particularly about treating people right, and he couldn’t help the smile that lifted his expression.

Maybe there was a potential partner in her, after all.

(**)

Nick Valentine stared with interest and intrigue as he regarded the mutfruit farm, uncommunicative Mr. Handy’s clipping and trimming away busily so the bushes could grow as efficiently as possible. The detective watched from the side as brave and comfortable Nora easily passed through the bushes to approach a white Miss Nanny. The two exchanged words, and Nick moved forward to catch bits of their conversation. He picked up Nora’s voice first.

“It’s not a problem. There were just a few mirelurks in the flooded area and supermutants around it. But we got the water purification system going and the water should be better now.” Her voice was casual, indifferent to the fact she was talking to a robot like they were equals of all things. Nick edged himself closer so he could linger behind Nora, patiently waiting for her to finish her conversation.

The robot (Supervisor White) lifted her voice cheerfully, “Oh, zat is wonderful, Miss Nora! Here is your compensation-” the robot lifted from seemingly nowhere a small bag of what held a few hundred caps and handed it to the traveler. Nora took it gratefully and reached behind for her backpack, sliding a zipper open with one hand and dropping it in before closing it.

“Thank you; now I’ll be back in the area probably in a while for more trade, and I’d love to buy some of your mutfruit again. It’s a bit of a favorite around the Commonwealth.”

“But of course!” Supervisor White exclaimed, unable to hide the programmed optimism in her voice, though Nick would have sworn her voice lifted with joy from Nora’s words. “Our humble settlement produces only the best mutfruit of the whole area. We would love to have your business again, and of course, we will consider you for hire if further issues arise.”

Nora smiled easily, “Thanks, and if the water starts acting up, just send word to Sanctuary and I should get wind of it.”

The robot’s eyes arched in a way that might have displayed gratitude, and Supervisor White crooned, “Thank you very much, dear; and please don’t hesitate to stop by anytime.” The robot’s eyes continued to move in a hovering fashion. “And please, thank your companion for me. I didn’t catch his name, but we’re grateful for his help regardless.”

Nora grinned at the robot, adjusting the pack over her shoulder. “I will. Thanks again!” She cast a glance towards Nick, jutting her head north, telling him it was time to get a move on.

He hurried over to her, tipping his hat to Supervisor White as he did in farewell, then turned back to Nora. “I’ve never been to this farm before.”

“It’s impressive,” Nora replied. “I had never heard of something like it, either, but they’re a great group, and they always do fair trade. They might make a good place for settlers, too, if I can convince them.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at the disappearing greenhouse, then turned back forward to hike up the hill further north.

Nick smiled to himself, looking at his feet, dead leaves and debris crunching underneath, and he glanced back to Nora. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What doesn’t bother me?” she asked, focused on the trail ahead.

“That they aren’t human.”

She paused, very briefly, so fast Nick might have missed it if he was a human, or even a human-looking synth. But he wasn’t, so he heard the brief hesitation in her step before she plowed on, and this time she did turn her head to look at him, her eyes a murky green behind her smudged eyeglasses. “Of course it doesn’t.”

Nick found himself caught in her gaze for a fast moment, enough time for a low smirk to slide up her face, and to then turn back towards the way ahead.

The dame was on to him.

It took a moment for his words to fall back into place, but they did as Nick cleared his throat when her gaze broke away for him to catch-up behind her. “Didn’t peg you for that kinda type.”

“What type?” she asked.

Nick matched her pace. “The type that cares about the non-human type.” Synth sympathizer is what he wanted to say, but that was such a hot topic in the Commonwealth; he didn’t want to ask her about that just yet, but if she treated robots with such civility, maybe, just maybe. . . he had a-

“They have feelings, too,” Nora stated. “They have thoughts, ideas, and they can reflect kindness. Don’t they deserve as much respect as we can give anyone else?” She stopped again to look at Nick, wanting to know his own thoughts. “Don’t you believe the same, Nick?”

He smiled to himself, ducking his head down. “I do,” he agreed, liking how this conversation was going. In a moment of decision, he chose to throw caution to the wind as he pried more, “I think the same about synths, too.”

“Oh, no doubt,” Nora agreed, and set the pace again to keep walking. Caught off-guard, Nick started after her as she continued speaking. “I think they show more humanity than some regular people I’ve known. I think they have as much potential for good or evil as anyone does. I’ve met many a synth who have saved my life, offered me kindness, protected me, sheltered me when I needed it.” She paused in thought, perhaps recalling the times she spoke of. “And I’ve met people who lie, kill, and hurt, just because they can.” She frowned darkly, “I’ve known people who have done terrible things.”

Nick couldn’t help but think of Eddie Winter as she said this, and he bowed his head in agreement. He looked to her as they walked stride for stride. “I couldn’t agree with you more, doll,” he amended.

She glanced his way with a half-smile. “Well, how could I think any different? Especially meeting as good a man as you.”

The compliment she laid before him without any warning left him shell-shocked for a moment, and she knew it, the minx. With a grin, she hurried forward in a jog to the north. “Come on!” she called. “We need to get to Sanctuary before night-fall!”

Nick only smiled in reply, and hurried after her into the Commonwealth forest.

(**)

The journey to each settlement Nora headed towards was an uneventful one. They stopped first at Sunshine Tidings Co-Op, a large and thriving rural settlement of 17, almost with a big enough population to challenge Diamond City. It was well fortified with guard posts and turrets, surrounded by small cabins arranged in a circle towards a barn-like building. Crops of all kind surrounded one side of it, groups of corn stretching to the blue sky surrounded by bushes of mutfruit, vines of tatoes and large balls of gourds and melons. Valentine watched Nora as she grabbed the settlement’s leader to ask for an update on the settlement. Her tone was direct and clear as Nick walked around the area, keeping one ear listening in on the conversation.

“There’s a group of raiders been giving us trouble,” the dark-skinned woman reported somewhat uncertainly. “Over at the Corvega Assembly Plant.”

The detective glanced to his companion, and he watched as her expression almost melted into a somewhat comedic look. Her mouth pulled taut at the corners, thinning her lips as her eyebrows shot to the top of her forehead, like someone was pulling at her face from all angles. Nick had the impression that she seemed greatly strained yet ultimately slighted by this information.

The settler seemed to observe this as well, and she started to interject, “But, please, the Assembly Plant is so much-”

“I’ve got it.”

Nick swiveled his head to Nora, his optics nearly bugging out of his sockets. What?!

Her goofy expression was smooth and now so cleanly replaced with one of patience, and quiet acceptance. “I know the layout of that building well. This isn’t the first time a group of raiders have taken it over as a hideout. I can clear them out in no time.”

Valentine lifted his brows, wondering if he should be incredibly impressed or absolutely horrified. This woman had taken out a gang of raiders holed up in the Assembly Plant? He had never been there himself, but knew the gangs who took up in the plant were often the toughest, meanest, and the strongest out of the rest in the ‘Wealth.

And . . . this woman-!

“Well, doll, you went in with a group, surely-?” Nick prompted, wondering if she were allied with the Minutemen, considering her background as a farmer. It was likely she knew of them.

Nora looked like a radstag caught in the sights of a shotgun, giving the detective the impression that she had said too much in front of him. He was reminded of a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “I – um, not exactly. Just me and Dogmeat,” she stammered in reply.

Nick paused to consider this. “How many were-”

She shrugged. “Several dozen.”

Several dozen.

Not five, or three, or ten, or even twenty.

Several dozen.

Nick felt a swooping in his head, like he should probably sit down, or run screaming from whoever he had chosen to be his companion. This crazy, determined, ridiculous, incredible, absolutely bear-headed-

Nick chuckled and shook his head slowly, “Remind me to never get on your bad side, doll.”

She smiled a little abashedly and ducked her head, looking pleased, before she turned back to the settler. “We’ll take care of those raiders for you and be back in a couple days’ time.”

Relief passed over the leader’s face, and she reached for Nora’s hand to shake it. “Thank you. You’re an angel, Nora. Truly.”

Nick noticed with a keen eye that Nora’s smile was strained.

(**)

The pair of wanderers left Sunshine Tidings Co-op in the early afternoon and found themselves at the Abernathy Farm a short hour later. Nora did the typical exchange of information and an exchange of caps for services in clearing out a patch of ghouls nearby.

The settlement itself was small with just a single farm house and a handful of settlers to occupy it. Nick wondered if this was the type of place Nora grew up at, just a family farm with a fence to protect them from the rest of the world.

He made a face. It sounded frightening, but it must make family all the more comforting.

But also dangerous.

He couldn’t help but glance to Nora sympathetically as they were walking to whatever settlement was next. The incline of the hill was pretty steep, and Nick was trailing behind her a step so he was looking up at her. His steps must have faltered when he glanced her way, because she turned her head to look at him, matching his gaze when he didn’t break from her stare. She raised an eyebrow at his expression, and asked, “What?”

Nick took a second to be thoughtful before he found his voice. “Just thinking about all this, about the life these people live out here with hardly any protection. . . At Diamond City, we’re safe behind the Wall and have enough security to patrol it’s borders. But out here. . .” Nick’s voice trailed off, and he looked at the vast empty space. The only thing that met his gaze was rolling fields of dry grass and gray skeletal trees. In the far distance, he could see the towers of the Boston area, covered in a radiated haze from such a long ways off. “It’s barren,” Nick said, filling in the space with his words. “Hardly any help for miles. If something goes wrong, it can take so long for help to get to you.”

Nora said nothing in reply to his reflection on the wasteland, but Nick filled the quiet for her. “It must be part of why you do this, right?”

Her head turned more towards him, the wind picking up strands of her dark hair as she carefully tilted her chin down at his words. He prompted from her silence, “Growing up at a farm like the ones we’ve been to today with hardly any resources. You give them hope and someone to rely on; you’re trying to be someone that you wish you had when you were living out here.” He paused thoughtfully. “Someone to protect your family.”

He had let his gaze trail away from her while speaking, and he looked back towards her eyes for verification of his words. Surprised, he found her green depths cold as ice, like a dark emerald forest drenched in frigid rainwater.

Nora said not a word, and turned to keep hiking up the trail.

Nick flinched a little at her silence, afraid he might have hit a nerve, and he hurried to catch up to her fast pace. When he fell in step at her side, she didn’t look his way, her gaze trailed only to what was ahead of them.

Abashed, the detective cast his gaze down, ashamed. Perhaps he had pried too deep, tried too soon to put the puzzle pieces in place.

The only sound to keep the pair company was their steps on the dead ground beneath them, and the high whistling of the wind about their ears.

(**)

It was near sunset when they crested the top of the hill, the sun low on the horizon, casting the Commonwealth in long shadows, the sky still a warm blue before it would bleed with color and fall into darkness. Nick and Nora paused at the top, breathing carefully as they looked at an abandoned Red Rocket station below, and in the distance, a settlement glowing with light.

Nick stared thoughtfully at the settlement not far off, then to the rocket station. It seemed barren at the moment, but lights betrayed the fact that someone lived there.

“Tired yet, Valentine?” Nora asked jokingly, the first time she’d spoken to him since her quiet spell earlier. Nick nearly startled at her voice, and he chuckled.

“We’ll have to walk a ways before you tire me out,” he teased. “I’ll bet I can go longer than you.”

Nick felt a quick swoop of uncertainty at his words, but he found Nora was quick to reply when she snipped, “I’ll have to keep that in mind for later, then.”

He turned his head so fast in her direction he thought his neck might snap from the momentum of it. His widened yellow optics caught a glimpse just in time to see a knowing smirk curling up her face, and she winked at him before immediately running down the hillside to the road below.

Valentine breathed out shakily, a laugh edging his voice as he shook his head in disbelief, and then took off down the hill after her.

He hadn’t been a child in a long, long, long time, but in that moment, running after Nora, he could swear in that moment he still was.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to Sanctuary!” Nora declared as they walked down the last half of the creaky wooden bridge, past the old Red Rocket.

Nick admired the post-apocalyptic neighborhood with awe and admiration, gazing with interest at the still-standing buildings and patrolling settlers. Night was almost upon the Commonwealth, yet the settlement was aglow with fires for cooking and the from lights hung between houses on string, illuminating the street and homes with light.

“It’s -” Nick stammered. “It’s amazing.” He looked at the farmers and ranchers moving about dressed in the typical clothes of the ‘Wealth. As Nick and Nora started walking among through the repurposed homes, a few settlers glanced his way, but made no fuss. The detective noted keenly that several of the settlers were carrying muskets, laser rifles, and Minutemen hats. He looked to Nora, who looked comfortable and nearly relieved that they were here. “This place is allied with the Minutemen, huh?”

Nora nodded, and she looked like she wanted to answer his question, but Nick’s train was suddenly interrupted by a loud and joyful bark.

Nick’s traveling companion turned so fast that Nick was surprised she didn’t fall over from the spin. Nora grinned ear to ear, her eyes the brightest he’d ever seen them, and she cried out a name Nick hadn’t expected to hear as she drooped to her knees with her arms thrown open.

“Dogmeat!”

Nick was wondering if she was hallucinating, but sure enough, that black and brown ball of fur came barreling out of twilight darkness right into the waiting arms of Nora. The dog bounced happily up and down, whining with his tail wagging so fast it blurred as he eagerly reunited with his master.

“That dog made it all the way here by himself?” Nick asked, appalled. “And he found you so fast-”

Nora hugged the dog close to her, ruffling his fur and petting him quickly as she brushed her hands over his back and ruffled the fur along his scruff. “Well, you don’t know how close we really are,” she said, and something twinkled in her eye, like some secret Nick could never even begin to understand. It was as gone as he saw it, though, so he put it out of his mind so he could reach down and good-naturedly pet the joyful dog.

“Knight!” a voice called.

Nick lifted his head at the new sound, his eyes adjusting when he saw a handsome young man come trotting down the street, wearing a bright orange flyer suit. Nora, too, turned toward the man approaching her, and she stood to her feet as he neared them. When he was close enough, he came to a halt and raised his fist in a salute as he pounded it against his chest, his thick brows set low over his eyes in a solemn grimace. “Welcome back!”

Brotherhood.

Immediately, Nick’s eyes narrowed as he glanced between this stranger and Nora, who he was pleased to see looked the taddest bit strained as she smiled carefully. Instead of returning his salute, she lifted her hand in greeting before lowering it back to her side, still crouched low as she pet Dogmeat amicably. “Good to see you, Danse. And you know I’m not part of the Brotherhood anymore. Please,” and she cast an almost nervous glance towards Nick, “Nora is just fine.”

The man -Danse- frowned a tinge at that in possible disapproval, but said nothing as he lowered his fist. “It’s good to have you back.”

“You as well,” she replied carefully. Nick regarded Danse a little coldly, observing the clean-cut stubble and haircut. The man was muscular, as all Brotherhood types were, with large hands scarred and stained with motor oil. Likely working on his Power Armor, no doubt. Damn Brotherhood and their machines. . .

Nick felt the distaste in him curdle with glee when the paladin looked at Nick, as if only just now realizing the synth was present. “And what’s this?” he asked Nora. The more this human looked at Nick, the more he seemed to dislike, and the man frowned more and more deeply as the seconds ticked by.

“The name’s Valentine, Nick Valentine,” the detective bit out. “And it’s who not what.” He knew in hindsight it would probably be better to be less hostile with people Nora clearly considered allies, but, damn if he didn’t hate the Brotherhood with every wire that crossed his circuits.

The man called Danse upturned his mouth in a sneer at Valentine’s words, and he turned sharply to Nora. “You’re traveling with a synth, Knight? A thing and a threat the Brotherhood has sworn to eliminate?”

It didn’t even take a second for Nora’s voice to go from molten iron to hard-edged steel. Her eyes glinted dangerously at the Brotherhood solider. “This is my friend, Nick Valentine. He’s a good man, Danse, and you will give him respect, else you will lose mine.”

Nick wasn’t sure if she was aware, but Nora took a careful step towards Nick as she stood to her full height, just a little in front of him, like she was protecting him.

An emotional wave of gratitude and awe passed through Nick, but he fought to keep it down as he glared silently at the Brotherhood member. The synth chose to say nothing.. this time.

Nora waited for Danse to speak, and he nodded, not-surprisingly compliant when it came to authority and a direct order. “Understood,” he grumbled.

She wasn’t done. “You will treat him as you treat me – with the utmost courtesy. If I hear one whisper in the whole Commonwealth that you aren’t being the definition of a welcoming host to him, I’ll kick you out of here so fast your head will spin.”

Danse nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Nora regarded him with narrowed eyes, but they softened about the edges. “It’s good to see you again, Danse.”

Something in him looked a little relieved as he smiled. “You too, Kn – Nora.”

Sensing a dismissal, Danse turned and started jogging back up the hill to a house bathed in orange glowing light. From where Nick stood, he could see glints of steel and tools littered about the make-shift garage. Danse called over his shoulder as he went, “The synth doesn’t sleep with me!”

Nora didn’t take the declare too seriously, though, and she simply rolled her eyes before turning back to Nick, who stared at her with a raised and expectant eyebrow.

“Save it,” she told the detective before he could utter a single syllable, or rattle off a line of questioning like she was a suspect being interrogated. “You can ask me questions when we get settled in.” She rolled her shoulders, and Nick heard some pops as her joints settled. “I need to get this backpack off or it might crush me.”

Nick’s optics sharpened as he looked at her in sudden concern, “Anything I can lug for ya?” he asked.

“No,” Nora denied, and she adjusted the pack over her shoulders. “When Trashcan Carla gets here I can trade some stuff with her. Till then, we’ll stay holed up here and restock on supplies.” She slowly started towards a house, weighted down from the heaviness of her backpack, and walked across the street to an empty house. Nothing seemed to stand out from the place in particular, to set it apart from the others on the street. It was a pale blue, peeled and faded after years against Nuclear Winter, illuminated by the lights from the street. Holes littered the side; the windows were long since blown out- either from the nuclear blast, or from looters- typical wear and tear from the Commonwealth- but it looked sturdy enough.

Nick found his gaze drawn to the front yard, grass long since green and lush now pale, dry, and completely dead. There were two lawn chairs in the front surrounding a spot for a campfire, facing the street, and a put-together dog house rested against the side of the larger building. Dogmeat didn’t waste time as he went to the side of one of the chairs, lying down and claiming his own spot. Nick turned to Nora.

“This your place?” he asked, appraising the house. He looked at the torn panes of material, the empty spaces in the roof. Overall, not bad by Commonwealth standards. A robot hovered around in the front, clipping importantly at the hedges so they were in a complete straight line across. It hit a nostalgic nerve with Nick to see that, reminding him of the pre-war days, even if he as never really ever part of it.

Nora sounded a little strained. “Yep,” she replied heavily. “This is my place. Still have the signed papers and everything.” She went to the chair, slinging the heavy pack of supplies onto the ground with a thud before falling into the lawn chair. Nick followed her suit, chuckling, and went to sit in the free chair at her side. “It’s not a permanent home, but it’s a place to kick your feet up.”

Nick had so many questions; it was enough to drive a man crazy. He opened his mouth, “So you-”

“General!”

Dog, synth, and human turned to the voice. Nora stood quick to her feet, smiling as she called out in greeting, “Preston!”

A handsome young man ran towards Nora, beaming from ear to ear, carrying a laser rifle in one hand and wearing a Minuteman hat upon his head. Nora ran out to meet him, and when they embraced, he wrapped one arm around her back as she threw hers about his neck. “Welcome home,” the man said to her warmly.

Nick felt something deep stir in him, something warm but uncomfortable. Maybe it was his wiring getting displaced from being so old.

This guy must be a boyfriend of some sort. They seem so happy to see each-

His train of thought immediately ground to a halt as Nora took a pace back, and the pair grasped forearms with each other in a secure and familiar greeting. At once, Nick was reminded of brothers-in-arms seeing each other after a long separation. The detective’s thoughts were immediately validated as Preston asked, “Been protecting the people of the Commonwealth, General?”

General? Nick turned his head to look at Nora, who nodded in affirmation at Preston, smiling. “Of course,” she replied. “Came up here from Diamond City. Stopped by Graygarden, Sunshine, and Abernathy Farm. All is well, but Nick and I are planning on heading to Corvega to eliminate a little raider problem.”

Preston grunted in agreement. He wasn’t surprised. “Hm, Corvega again? Be safe when you go, ma’am.”

Her reply was prompt, “Of course. Anything to report here?”

She is in the Minutemen, Nick deduced easily enough, conversation clear. The problem was that the piece didn’t fit all the way. Every time Preston called Nora ‘General,’ she seemed to withdraw a little into herself, just barely enough to notice.

“Nope. All is quiet here, ma’am. And we haven’t heard any report of issues as of this moment, but I’ll be sure to let you know if something comes up.”

Nora laughed somewhat ironically. “I don’t doubt you will. And Preston, you know I’m not a General anymore.”

The Minuteman had enough grace to look abashed at being caught. “I know, but it feels weird calling you anything else.”

“From you, I’ll allow it for now,” she sighed, rolling her eyes a little.

“What news from Graygarden?” Preston pried. “Any sign that they’ll. . . ?”

Nora shook her head. “Not yet, but I’ll be sure to bring it up next time I pass through there.”

Preston smiled. “That would be a great set-up for a settlement. It’s not in the most ideal location, but it’d be a great start-up with those Mr. Handy’s already running the farm. It would give settlers more opportunities to build up a settlement. Fortify it, work on establishing water lines or something-”

Nick narrowed his eyes in the slightest, but said nothing.

“Oh, and Preston-!” Nora exclaimed, and she reached over for Nick, who felt a bit startled. Nora lightly touched the area behind his shoulder to bring him closer so he stood at her side. “This is Nick Valentine. He’s been traveling with me.” Nick nodded in greeting as Nora returned, “And Nick, this is Preston, Lieutenant General of the Minutemen.”

Any Minuteman in Nick’s book was a good man, so he smiled politely. “Good to meet you, Lieutenant. I gotta say, I’m quite a fan of what the Minutemen are doing in the Commonwealth.”

Preston, who might have regarded Nick with more reservations earlier, immediately brightened up when Nora introduced him as a traveling companion. Nick chose to tuck that observation away for later. “Good to meet you, too, sir. And thank you; we’re just trying to make life better for folks out here.”

Nick smiled to himself. Yeah, he liked this guy.

Preston went on. “This woman will sure take you for a ride when you travel with her. And hell, she doesn’t usually take just anyone out wandering. You must be someone pretty special, Mr. Valentine.”

“Means you’re pretty special, too, Preston,” Nora teased, pushing the Lieutenant playfully.

The group laughed softly, and Preston tipped his hat towards the detective. “Well, seems like I’m leaving her in good hands. You take care of her, Mr. Valentine; keep her out of trouble.”

Nick chuckled at that, spying Nora as she made a face. “Heh, I’ll keep out of trouble if she does.”

Nora smirked, a bit of a twinkle in her eye as she was quick enough to catch Nick’s gaze.

(**)

Preston left to go take up the night patrol of Sanctuary, leaving Nora and Nick to build a fire and get settled.

Nora was swift and immediately went to grabbing things from her pack she could use as kindling in the campfire spot. Old matchboxes, pencils, random pieces of wood or crumpled paper stained yellow with age were used for the fire, and Nick was the one to helpfully offer a means to light the material with his cigarette lighter. “And who says that smoking isn’t good for you?” he synth teased as he handed the small device to Nora, who smirked at his joke and went to light the kindling.

“Oh, I don’ know, maybe common sense?” she teased in return. “Not all of us have iron lungs.” He smiled at her teasing, laughing a little himself as he sat back. Once the kindling had lit and started to devour the thicker logs, Nora handed the lighter back to Nick, and leaned back to sit in the lawn chair. She released a heavy sigh as she allowed herself to relax. Without hesitation, she stretched her legs out toward the warmth of the fire, releasing an exhausted yawn. Nick watched quietly, waiting patiently. Only after a couple of silent moments passed did she sigh and wave her hand towards him. “Go ahead,” she allowed.

Nick perked up immediately at her verbal grant of permission, and the detective in him crowed at the idea of being able to ask this mysterious woman more about her background. “The Brotherhood?” he asked skeptically, as if he couldn’t believe she was ever part of their insane cult. It didn’t seem like she fit in with the ideals of their group, considering the conversations the pair had on their travels in regard to synth rights.

Nora sighed again, but this one sounded a little bit more exasperated. She rubbed her forehead, like if she did that long enough, it would get rid of a headache. “It was early on after I lost my family. I was. . .” she struggled to find a proper word. “I was desperate,” she chose to say, looking away from Nick as she answered his question. He wondered if she was embarrassed by whatever her past included with them. Although, considering the Brotherhood, and what her moral and views were now.. maybe she was ashamed.

The detective nodded in affirmation to what she said. Joining the Brotherhood for such a reason as that was rather common in the Commonwealth. Most folks weren’t fortunate enough to survive at one location with every family member intact, so in the face of loss, the Brotherhood was always swift to pick up new recruits to their cause and way of life. Clearly, Nora was no exception.

With no further clarifying questions for that, Nick turned to another topic, appraising her with a knowing half-smile. “General?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

She pursed her lips a little bit as her face pinked around the roundness of her cheeks. “I’ve known the Minutemen for ages since I was a kid, so when I finally left the Brotherhood after I realized what they were really about, I was able to improve and move the Minutemen up to a higher place of prestige.” Carefully, Nora straightened herself up in her seat; the dancing flames sent dashes of orange light against her soft and smooth face. “I worked my way up the ranks; did a lot of good for them, and became their General.” She sat back now, lifting her leg up so it rested on her other knee. “But after the Institute fell, I was tired, so I quit then. Preston has essentially been my field-director since the beginning, and now he’s pretty much my replacement.”

Nick couldn’t help but think of the soldier boy in orange. “And what about that dancing fellow?”

Nora made a bit of a face and shifted where she sat, snorting with laughter at the pun. “Danse is rough around the edges,” she had the grace to admit. Reaching down to the side where her pack was, Nora grabbed a couple of cold beers, and offered one to Nick, who held up his hand in passing. She shrugged and twisted the cap. It hissed in protest, and she stuffed the cap into her pocket as she took a swig of the drink. “Don’t judge him too harshly, though,” she said. “He carries a lot of baggage with him, and not just the physical kind.” Nora smirked at her jest, and Nick returned it carefully. He tapped his fingers together.

“What did a Brotherhood Knight have to do to wind up out here?” he asked softly, as if wanting to avoid Danse from overhearing.

Nora’s expression sobered a bit. “I . . .” she frowned a little. “I don’t think I’m really at liberty to talk about it. Just-” a sigh, “just know that he’s gonna come around eventually. It just takes time. Just ignore his behavior if he’s bad around you for now, and if it gets bad, let me know.”

Nick blinked, thoughtful, but nodded in understanding. “Fair enough,” he said. The detective could tell when it wasn’t an appropriate time to pry, so he pressed his lips together in understanding and didn’t push any further. He may be a detective, but he knew a thing or two about respecting someone’s privacy. When Nick didn’t ask for any more clarification, Nora sighed contently, and went back to her drink.

An hour or so passed in easier conversation. Nick asked about some of Nora’s past, about her time with the Brotherhood, then steered over to stories of the Minutemen when her expression began to sour. Nora lounged in the lawn chair, gazing hazily out into the distance. Nick kept at her side companionably, staring into the fire and periodically looking up to gaze at the twinkling stars. Dogmeat lay at Nora’s side, sleeping, his ears folded back against his head, snoring softly.

“Do you hear what they say?” Nora asked suddenly into the darkness, startling Nick for a moment fom their shared moment of quiet up to then. He turned his head to look at her.

Something heavy weighed in Nora’s gaze. Something he would never be able to comprehend. “Hear what they say about what?” he asked. His voice was unintentionally quiet, as if some part of him knew what Nora was leading up to, or at least that it was serious.

“What they say about her. You know. The One. The one who destroyed the Institute. The Woman who freed the Commonwealth from the Boogeyman.” Her voice was flat, and she didn’t turn her head or eyes to look at Nick.

The synth mirrored her body language as he turned his eyes to the horizon, past the houses and into the dark. “Not much. I know Piper had an interview with her. Apparently she didn’t get a lot of information out of her, though. She wanders around a lot, from what I’ve heard.” Nick hadn’t tried to pry Piper on the identity of the Institute Destroyer, just that she wished to remain anonymous- and Nick knew far better than to try to pry and crack at Piper’s reporter’s honor like it was some clam that needed cracking open for the pearl inside.

Nora’s gaze was dark, her expression somber. “They say she came from the North, born of ice so cold that it burns you when you touch it. They say she came to bring justice to those who had none, to bring peace to people who never knew it.” Nora took another sip of her drink. Nick stayed quiet and wondered if she’d maybe had too much. “I think that’s bull,” Nora decided, and she slouched a little bit more in her seat. Her voice barely softened. “I think she was born from a destructive and burning fire, only born to bring pain and suffering. But not to others. I think she gave all of the kindness in her for the Commonwealth, but ended up leaving her with nothing, so that then, all that’s left of her is just this empty, lifeless shell.”

Thoughtful, and convinced without a doubt that Nora was more than a little tipsy, Nick chose to be wise and remain quiet. Nora didn’t seem to care, and she tossed her bottle half-heartedly into the street. The thick glass clattered to the pavement, not shattered, but cracked. With Nick’s keen eyes, he could see a gush of fluid leaking out onto the ground.

And then Nora began to sob.

It came from seemingly nowhere. Nick startled, and then found he could only stare blankly from shock as this strong and impenetrable woman- this fortitude of an individual- she lifted her hand to cover her eyes, mouth turned down in grief as thick and heavy sobs began to shake her body. “God, Nick,” she hiccuped, and he saw her hands trembling as tears trailed dusty paths down her face. “I’m an empty shell, just filled with nothing; I don’t have anything left, it’s just gone and no one is-”

“Hey hey hey hey,” Nick interrupted, and he came around so he crouched in front of Nora’s chair, his metal hand resting on her knee. “You’re doing just fine. You’re not a shell.”

She kept crying, but her hand grabbed onto his own, the one covered in fake human flesh. “Really?” she asked, her glossy eyes shining with tears. “You don’t think I’m a shell?”

“You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met,” he told her. “If you were an empty shell, I don’t think you would let yourself be kind at all.”

Her smile was grateful, and she lifted his old and worn hand so she could place a sloppy drunk kiss to his palm. “Thanks Nic – Nicky. You’re a great guy.”

Nick pressed his lips together in a strained expression, but he patted her knee in comfort before standing, keeping a firm grip on her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Okay,” she agreed compliantly, and went easily enough with the synth into the old abandoned house. “Bedroom is at the end, on the lllleft. No – the right.”

He found it on the left, as she said, and led her to the bed. Once she sat on the mattress, he helped remove her boots, tossing them into the corner where they would wait until morning. Nora looked blearily at him before moving into the bed and pulling the blankets up over her. “Mkay thanks goodnight,” she slurred all together, and turned away from him with her head resting on the pillow. Within a few moments, her breathing deepened with sleep.

Nick chuckled softly before quietly leaving her room. He walked carefully down the hallway, looking at the pictures along the walls, faded and dusty with passed time. The detective stepped into the living room, and took in a moment to observe the old furniture. A faded red couch faced the eastern wall of the living room with a single sofa sitting adjacent to it. There was an old stereo under the windows that lined the front of the house, and the kitchen looked no different than any of the other abandoned homes Nick had seen in the Commonwealth.

He wondered at it, though, when he looked at the old amenities littered throughout the home. He wondered about the people who might have lived there, what they were like. What kind of lives did they live? What kind of people were they? Did they throw barbeques and go to church? Did they both work or did the husband work while the wife was a home-maker?

Nick thought about it, and as he did, he chose to walk the perimeter of the house, observing the small things Nora had collected to keep here. Bobbleheads, drinks in the fridge, and extra boxes of food sat along the counter. A siren call went out not long after Nick started wandering through the house, and he watched as lights went out around the neighborhood, leaving only a few on as curfew began.

Every once in a while, Nick would step into Nora’s room to check on her and make sure she was doing all right, and it was during one of those checks that Nick saw the next room across the hallway. The one with the crib in it.

He stood at the entrance of the room, somber. He looked at the chipped blue paint on the wood and observed the broken-down mobile that dangled above the old mattress.

“Damn,” Nick uttered, looking in pity at the deteriorating crib. It was a family home. Sometime somewhere, a family used to occupy this house. Reminders like that splashed Nick with the cold reality of what the bombs had done to civilization, to people with families, loved ones. A sobering thought, indeed.

Something like grief passed through Nick’s form when thinking this, and he dug into his pocket for a cigarette. He fished around for a moment and pulled out the nearly-empty box. When he lit it, the burn in his mechanical lungs and throat was a welcome one. He breathed in the hot smoke before exhaling it slowly. It dissipated into the night, and while Nick wanted to step in and look around the room, he couldn’t. There was almost an invisible wall keeping him from entering, like there was something still sacred dormant there.

It didn’t look like Nora had left anything in this room or even taken anything from it; it was nearly untouched. Nothing had been shoved to the wall or moved aside. Blocks and toys were left strewn about, and there were no signs that anyone called this nook their home or even used it.

So instead of intruding himself on the sanctity of the room, Nick took a deep breath of his cigarette and let the smoke out slowly. He wondered why Nora would leave this room, of all the others. Maybe she had no purpose for it. Or perhaps she, too, sensed the sanctity of leaving a room like this be. As a shrine for the people who used to live there. Or perhaps it was in grief- respect for some parents losing their child, as she had lost hers.

Either way, it warmed Nick’s gears to know she would offer the same respect and honor to those long past, and he smiled secretly to himself. Another way he and Nora were similar- he liked that. It was interesting; he didn’t often find someone to match up with him so well.

Perhaps Ellie is right, Valentine allowed himself to think. Maybe she could be a good partner.

Now wasn’t the time to decide such things, though. Not when his potential-partner was asleep in the next room, waiting for dawn to break. If he was going to be serious about choosing Nora as a partner, he would need to first assess on what her thoughts of it would be, and to do that, she had to be awake.

Resigning himself that he wasn’t going to get anything done late this night, Nick stepped back from the still room and made his way to the couch in the living room. The cushions and springs were slightly squeaky, but it was comfortable enough to last until morning.

Nick slouched down on the cushions, allowing his neck to rest against the back of the couch. In a very human-like way, he pulled the brim of his fedora down so it covered his eyes, and he set his internal ‘sleep’ watch to four hours from he present when it would be 6 am. “Might as well reboot the old servos while we’re sitting here,” he mumbled to himself, and when his breathing slowed, Nick let himself fall into darkness.

(**)

When Nick’s servos booted up again two hours later, Nick lifted the brim of his hat up so he could see. His form had settled comfortably into the couch, and when he adjusted his position on the cushions, his foot brushed Dogmeat lying on the floor. The dog lifted his shaggy head to look at Nick, his ears perked curiously. The synth smiled carefully and leaned forward so he could pat the dog comfortingly. A long pink tongue lolled from his mouth, and the sound of his tail on the ground caused some warmth to go through Nick’s chest. Agh, there was always just something so reassuring about a dog. . .

Nick stood to his feet carefully and tiptoed around where Dogmeat lay. The detective looked at his watch. Six a.m. was still pretty early, and Nick didn’t know when Nora would want to get a move on. Considering how much sleep she had gotten while they were out (meaning little), it wouldn’t surprise him if she took a bit longer to reboot her batteries.

It didn’t take much decision, then, for Nick to choose to walk around the place a bit before he would return to check on Nora. He cast one furtive glance down the hall, listening to Nora’s slow rhythm of breathing, and then slid to the front door where he could ease to the outside.

Even so early in the morning, settlers of Sanctuary were starting to move about and go attend to their tasks. Nick walked carefully down the main street of the settlement, taking caution to avoid people when they cast him odd looks, or even ones that went so far as to be called hostile. Although Nick was sure that most of them didn’t mean any genuine harm to him, he didn’t want to take any chances, especially in a settlement he wasn’t familiar with.

Nick wandered down to the entrance of the settlement at the bridge crossing the stream. Two adjacent watchtowers were set up to view the area beyond the bridge. A settler in a yellow trench coat stood in one, and in the other, Nick recognized Preston, standing vigil as he guarded their Sanctuary.

Feeling like Preston was someone Nick could safely approach, the synth neared the tower. “Quiet night?” he called.

Preston glanced down to him, and nodded. He stood with his laser rifle resting on the ground, but at Nick’s call, turned and lifted it in his arms as he walked down the stairs to exit the Watchtower. “All quiet,” he returned. “How’s Nora?”

“She’s fine,” Nick replied, and in light of being social, dug around for another cigarette in his pocket. When the synth pulled out the box, he offered one to the attentive young man, who held up a hand in refusal. Nonplussed, Nick lit the small stick, inhaling deeply when the tip caught. “Sleeping a lot, which has got to be a good sign.”

The Minuteman chuckled. “Heh, Nora’s like that. She’ll go for days with hardly any sleep, food, water, but when she gets somewhere safe, she just crashes.”

Hm. Nick carefully raised an eyebrow in notice of what Preston meant. “You traveled with her, then?” he tried to ask in a casual, conversation-type way.

Preston nodded. “Yeah. For a while.”

Nick considered this, keeping a mental tally. Hancock, Piper, Dogmeat, and now Preston. Sounds like Nora has done more than her fair share of traveling. It didn’t totally fit together, though. How could one person, relatively new to the ‘Wealth, do this much wandering when she lived as a farmer for so long? “This after her husband and kid had passed?” he questioned the Minuteman. Nick figured that since Nora had told Nick so early in their relationship about her family that someone like Preston would certainly know.

The question, however, seemed to summon something in Preston, something that drew away from Nick’s prying. “. . . Yeah,” he said. “After the passing of her husband.”

Gotta back off. “Good to hear she’s had people looking out for her,” Nick tried instead, taking an empathetic approach to talking to Preston. “She seems like someone that has a hard time approaching people when she needs help.”

Preston almost visibly relaxed. The man probably wasn’t a very good liar, and Nick considered that to be the trait of a good man. “It sounds like you’ve got her pegged, Mr. Valentine,” the younger man said, amused.

Nick half-smiled at him. “Yeah, well . . .” and he took another drag from his cigarette. “Lots of folks don’t know how to ask for help these days.”

“Well, that’s why the Minutemen are here to help,” Preston interjected with a smile, one that Nick carefully returned. “Nora has been a great asset to our cause. She really cares about people out here.”

“Make a lot of visits to settlements out here then, does she?” Nick asked, layering his voice with awe. He didn’t need to hide the fact that he was clearly impressed if what Preston said was true.

Preston nodded. “Nora’s visited every settlement out here. Established most of them, actually- or revived them by clearing out hostiles. I’ve been to many with her, but I don’t think I’ve been to all of them like she has.” He laughed, and chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s an amazing, resourceful woman. I think she mentioned to me that she has contacts in every settlement in the Commonwealth, so if something comes up, she can be there to handle it.”

Hm. “Pretty popular gal.”

The Minuteman laughed. “You could definitely say that. Never seen anyone so determined or so connected.”

Nick laughed with Preston, starting to put two and two together. “How many settlements are even in the Commonwealth?”

Preston frowned a little in thought and shrugged. “Maybe. . . about 30?”

Nick nodded. “Wow.” At least 30 informants all across the Commonwealth. That’s quite a network. No wonder she wanted some time away from all that in Diamond City. Must be how she’s so easily able to conduct her caravan business- she’s been everywhere. “You know anyone else she travels with?”

Preston frowned. “Mm. Well I know she traveled with Danse, and of course there’s that dog of hers. Uh, and then I think there was Deacon, and Hancock.”

Deacon? “Who’s Deacon?” Nick asked bluntly, and took another puff of smoke before dispelling it from his mechanical lungs. Deacon didn’t sound like a real name, that was sure. So someone who wanted to keep their name hidden. But at the same time, something in the back of Nick’s mind told him that he had heard that name before. What was it, though?

Preston shrugged loosely. “Dunno. Some smooth-talker. Kind of a city-type I think. He doesn’t like the Minutemen much, though I don’t understand why.” Preston sniffed, almost as if it were a personal affront that this person didn’t support his cause.

“Sounds like quite a character,” Nick tried to play along. “You happen to catch what he looks like?”

Another shrug. “He’s a pretty fine dresser, I gotta admit that much. Was wearing slacks and a sweater vest when I saw them together. Bald, and he had these huge pair of sunglasses.” Preston held up one free hand, making a circle by connecting his thumb and middle finger over his eye.

Nick thought in silence. It sounded like Nora’s brother, almost, if not for the nice clothes. The detective lifted his head a little. “Hm, yeah I think I might know him. He doesn’t happen to have an old Boston accent, does he?”

At that, Preston shook his head. “No, no accent that I could hear, at least. Just a real plain guy.”

Could still be him; it’s not hard to mimic an accent. Nick thought carefully. “Did he happen to say what his occupation was?”

Preston looked thoughtful for a moment. “Hm. I think he mentioned owning a store. Might sell chems; he said he needed a geiger counter.”

Chem-selling might make sense. His clothes don’t sound like they’re much of a common look around folks these days, but if he makes a pretty penny selling chems that wouldn’t be abnormal. Must be adjusted to some settlement, a pretty well set-up one at that if he was wearing such nice clothes. Now where do people dress like that? Diamond City upper-stands, but I would of heard about that. Covenant maybe, but they never leave their compound. Could be Goodneighbor, but that doesn’t sound like their usual get-up-

“What’s with all the questions, anyway? You know him?”

Nick startled from his thoughts, and realized with annoyance that his cigarette was all used up. He flicked it from his hands to the ground and stomped on it, putting the embers out. “Thought so, but it sounds like he might be a different guy.” Maybe . . . but what reason would Nora and her brother have to hide their names?

Preston looked at Nick curiously. “You lookin’ for someone?”

The detective sighed. “We’ll see.”

The Minuteman seemed uncertain in this answer, but kindly offered, “Well, good luck, either way. You need anything else?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, suddenly recalling one of his main intentions for journeying with Nora in the first place. He turned his head to look at Preston from the corner of his eye. “What do you know about the Angels?”

Chapter Text

“The Angels?” Preston asked to clarify. “What do you want to do with the Angels?”

“I’m a detective, Mr. Garvey. This is kind of what I do,” Nick supplemented.

Preston made a bit of a show, making a face that expressed disbelief. “Who hired you for that wild goose chase?”

“A willing client,” was all Nick said in reply, but observed in the back of his mind that Preston still had not yet answered his question.

Preston scoffed softly. “Some client.”

“No matter, they’re a client nonetheless, and I just want to ask you a few questions about what you may know about the supposed Angels.” Nick tried like heck to take on a persona of being in control, but felt like he had the opposite of exactly that. He threw in that ‘supposed’ to Preston, though, to set him more at ease if he knew anything and was more hesitant to share it. It was much easier for people to reveal information that may be accurate rather than totally reliable.

With that, Nick breathed in and out mechanically, expelling the unfiltered air from his fake lungs. “So, Preston, please, tell me what you know about the Angels.”

The man continued to be hesitant, but something began to show in his dark eyes. Nick noticed keenly as he adjusted the grip on his rifle, and darted his gaze away so they wouldn’t meet the detective’s. “Well, what do you want to know about them, specifically?”

Nick tried to push the excitement building up in his gut – it felt like there was really something going on here. And of all people, Preston surely seemed like a good man- he’d spill for Nick. “Just start with the beginning, Garvey,” he soothed, not wanting to spook the man. “What do you know of them?”

Preston lifted and released another careful sigh, something akin to guilt almost flared in his eyes. “Okay, but, well, listen – how serious is this?”

The detective synth kept his hands in his coat nonchalantly, but he felt immediately grateful he had because he could clench his fists tersely without drawing attention to himself. “A man’s son was murdered, and the reasons behind it were unknown.”

The guilt Nick recalled seeing earlier came back stronger, now, and Preston slightly bowed his head to look at the his boots. “I . . . admit that I am not totally aware of what happens with these Angels. I certainly did not believe that they would . . .” His voice trailed off. Whether he stopped speaking because he was shocked or upset couldn’t be said.

He knows something, all right, the detective’s voice in Nick head couldn’t help but observe. He damn well knows something and he’s gotta spill it.

Nick took in a careful breath of air, then proceeded to take a cautionary step towards the Minuteman. “Garvey. . .” he started, trying to be amiable. The Lieutenant lifted his head, and Nick implored him with the deepest sincerity in his voice. “It’s more than just that; people have died at the hands of the Angels, at the hand of someone who dispenses justice without thinking about what may happen later. Families starving, children left without parents, all in the name of what someone thinks justice is.” The detective looked on somberly. “I just need to know what you know, so I can bring real justice to a grieving, hopeless father.”

Something real flashed deep in Preston’s eyes, and the detective knew he had him. The Minuteman pressed his lips together thoughtfully, and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell you what I know.”

Carefully, and what he hoped was reassuring, Nick smiled.

(**)

“Thank you, Mr. Valentine,” Preston said in farewell a little while later, looking physically relieved as he smiled at the detective. After speaking the truth, he was a free man, unburdened by lies and subterfuge. “Please don’t hesitate to come visit us!”

“It would be quite a walk. And no, Preston, thank you,” Valentine returned, still touched by the kindness offered by the good Samaritan. “You’re really helping people out here, and more.”

“Well let me know if you need anything. We’re always here to help,” he shifted his laser rifle in his hands, and started to turn like he was readying himself to move on to the rest of his patrol.

Nick nodded and glanced down at the crushed cigarette below his shoes. “Will do,” he said, mind still clamoring with a jumble of thoughts as he considered what Preston had revealed to him.

“And hey, Mr Valentine?”

Nick lifted his head, wordlessly acknowledging Preston. The young man looked at him carefully, but there was a kind of smile behind his eyes. “Take care of Nora, alright? She needs people to look out for her – she’s so busy wrapped up in taking care of others. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

There was no denying the warmth that passed through Nick’s chest, and he nodded in affirmation. “Of course.”

Preston’s only response was a grin, and he turned to begin walking up the street to what Nick was starting to think of as the Main House.

Nick watched the leader of the settlement walk up the path, and then he turned to gaze at the south, where he could see the sun beginning to rise over the eastern horizon. The stars high above in the sky were starting to fade as the inky blue softened into the gentle robin’s egg of dawn. A low chatter was starting to pass through the settlement, and somewhere, Nick could smell the distinct scent of cooking tatoes and carrots stewed together in a make-shift breakfast.

In the end, Preston hadn’t known a whole lot about the Angels specifically, but he was able to clear up a few of Nick’s theories that he had about them.

For starters, the Angels absolutely were a league of assassins – not just one person magically moving across the Commonwealth committing murders.

Secondly, the Angel’s had a tie with the Minutemen, and possibly other factions across the ‘Wealth, a deal, of sorts.

And third. . .

Nick sighed, and desperately ached for a cigarette.

Third, Nora had ties to the Angels.

When Preston had explained the Minutemen’s partnership with the Angels, he had the decency to look a little bit ashamed, but found defenses for his actions, regardless.

(**)

“More than once, the Angels have helped nearby settlers with aid against invaders. For a while it was Nora’s job defending settlements as part of the Minutemen, but it got to be too much for her, and sometimes she wouldn’t be able to go places soon enough to protect them from an oncoming attack. And even nearby Minutemen from neighboring settlements weren’t enough to prevent the deaths.”

Preston’s eyebrows arched into something like sorrow. “People started dying. . . A lot. Nora couldn’t take it anymore, so she solidified the partnership with them- the Angels . She-she’s always like that, carrying all the guilt and the weight of the world on her shoulders. It’s too much for anyone to handle.”

Nick remained stoic and silent, trying to numb the pressured betrayal he felt that Nora had yet to disclose such vital information to him. Did this technically make her an accomplice?

The detective felt cold, and he wasn’t even sure that was supposed to be possible.

He forced the emotion out of him as best he could, Get ahold of yourself, Nick, he told himself. Back into detective mode. Gotta learn more. Golden eyes stared hard into Preston’s brown. “So what do the Angels get in return for aiding the people of the Commonwealth?”

Preston shrugged. “Usually some form of payment, often caps, I believe.”

Nick couldn’t help but be reminded of old gangs, beating up businesses by offering protection in the exchange of money, always hinging on the ‘it could always be worse’ part of folks’ minds.

Wisely, Nick didn’t add to this, but chose to expand his questioning, and he recalled Preston talking about Nora and her 30 contacts. “So – how does the communication work between her and the Angels?”

The man smiled sadly at that. “I wouldn’t know, and I don’t even know if she still communicates with them. It wasn’t long after the deal was arranged between our two groups that she quit her role as General.”

It was easy enough in Nick’s mind to put the pieces together. “So. . . who communicates with them for this settlement? Like if you need help?”

Preston jutted his head to something over Nick’s head, and the detective turned for a quick glance as he regarded the settlement behind him. “We have a signal relay that we turn on in case of an emergency. It isn’t long after that when a group of them will sweep through to eliminate the target.”

Nick grunted in acknowledgment when he saw the tall dish and signal relay set at the peak of the settlement. He turned a thoughtful eye back to Preston, “So who ensures that the Angels get their fair share of payment in this scenario? What kind of enforcement do they use?”

From this question, Preston looked pleased enough to answer. “No enforcement, actually. I can’t recall a time they forced us to give more than what was offered.”

Nick frowned thoughtfully, then lifted his head again. “What do they look like?”

Preston nodded. “Always a dark jacket with wings drawn on the back, usually in white. They all wear dark pants, and have on helmets, sunglasses of some kind, and bandannas across their faces. I couldn’t identify one otherwise, though.”

Identity protection. Made sense. Nick nodded in understanding. “When they come through, have you ever recognized one of their voices? Any of them sound familiar?”

The Minuteman shook his head.

“How long does it usually take them to get here once the relay is turned on?”

Preson shrugged. “Not long. Several minutes, at most.”

Nick nodded, taking this to mean that some were likely close by. Feeling like he had a good grasp of what information had been established, the detective tipped his hat. “That should be all for me, then.”

As Nick was about to excuse himself, Preston couldn’t seem to help himself as he took a step towards Nick and brashly grabbed the edge of his arm sleeve. “Hey, you’re not going to hurt Nora, right?”

(**)

Nick sighed and shook his head from where he stood at the riverbank, unable to fight back the internal feelings of nausea and disgust at being asked a question like that. Even now, after the conversation, he couldn’t help but replay it over and over and over again in his mind. Of course he wouldn’t hurt Nora, but it hurt him to be asked if he would. Yes, this investigation was important, maybe one of the most important cases he had ever pursued, but to the point of harming someone he almost was considering to be a friend? And a partner, at that? Just. . . unthinkable.

Peering down at the stream, Nick watched the dark water trickling over the rocks, and found himself drawn to the lull of the stream and the easy passivity it offered. Without really putting thought into it, Nick found himself walking down to the side of the stream, standing on the crest in the dirt that let him look down at the rocky bank. Further down, the detective could see a large water purifier standing up out of the current, tall and strong.

“Quite a benefit for them to have this here,” Nick spoke to himself. He looked around thoughtfully, observing the trees on the far side of the stream, and even spotted a feral dog drinking water at the bank. Unaware of Nick, it drank indifferently, and when it was done, lifted its head and looked around before retreating back into the forest.

Nick carefully looked back up the hills to the homes of Sanctuary, and he found himself gazing at rows and rows of crops in an open field that used to be a playground. Rows of corn, tatoes, razorgrain, mutfruit, melons, and gourds faced the detective, and he marveled at the efficiency of the settlement. The farmers crouched low in the soil, tending to the plants and taking care of them as needed, while those suited to security patrolled the area. Near the top of the hill at the Main House, Nick saw Preston speaking to Danse. The Brotherhood member nodded, speaking in turn to Preston, and made a noticeable glance to Nick. Both hurriedly looked away once realizing they’d been spotted, and Nick chose to sit at an abandoned picnic table overlooking the stream.

The detective waited patiently, and found himself enjoying the scenery as he watched the Commonwealth sun rise up, glowing a blinding bright yellow.

It wasn’t long after Nick seated himself at the picnic table that he heard footsteps approaching. Nick went very still, listening, and then turned when said approacher entered his line of sight. “Morning, you,” he greeted.

“Morning,” Nora returned. Her eyes seemed bleary from waking up, and her hair was unbrushed, but the morning sparkle in her jewel-green eyes was unmistakable. She yawned again, mouth stretching wide, then went to sit close to Nick, their thighs carefully touching each others’.

Nick shifted slightly where he sat, trying not to feel awkward, but doing just that, anyway. “Sleep good?” he asked, feeling like his throat was dry and that maybe he needed a vocal tune-up.

Nora nodded, and perhaps it was unconscious, but she leaned over so she rested her head against his shoulder. “Pretty good.” The two fell into silence for a handful of moments, and then Nora was the one to say, “A little birdie said you were asking questions.”

Preston, that little snitch- Nick thought quietly. “Oh yeah?” he said, instead of really addressing it. “And what about it?”

Nora yawned. “I think it’s understandable. I’d say that we still don’t totally know or understand each other completely yet, including our backgrounds.” Nick waited, and Nora sat up so she could look the detective straight in the eyes. “So I think if you have any questions, you can come to me directly, next time. And also-” she poked his chest good-naturedly. “You apparently know some of my skeletons, so I want to know yours.”

Nick couldn’t help but press his mouth together and lean back a little as Nora invaded his personal space, but he had to admit that what she proposed was fair. Perhaps it wasn’t the most polite thing to do, going around asking others about her backstory instead of just saying it up front. Typical detective.

But he had important questions to ask her, as well. It wouldn’t be responsible of him to not ask, not when it concerned the murders of so many people.

Ashamed, Nick bowed his head slightly. “Sorry, doll. It won’t happen again.”

Later. Not now. . . I’ll ask her later.

He glanced up just in time to see her smile gently at him, and she flicked the brim of his hat up so that the warm sun shone on his face. “It better not,” she teased, smiling like the cat who had caught the canary.

Nick blinked, a little taken aback, and was startled when he got caught up in the endless pool of Nora’s green eyes. They shone, even behind the smudged glasses, and he was immediately reminded of long grassy fields in warm forests, meadows with flecks of brown and even gold shimmering in their depths.

Something pressed hard against Nick’s chest, something the detective hadn’t felt in a long while as he stared at his elusive companion. As a synth, he had thought he never would have felt something like this for the rest of his existence-

Nick felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“It – it won’t, doll,” he stammered in response. What’s wrong with me?

She grinned, pleased enough with his reply, and leaned back into the bench, her back resting against the edge of the old picnic table. “Good.” Nora got comfy, slouching a bit where she sat, and lookedto Nick from the corner of her gaze expectantly. “Now spill it. I want to hear everything about you, Detective Valentine.”

Nick chuckled, still wondering at the visceral reaction that somehow left him feeling breathless for the first time in maybe 100 years. “Y-you sure, doll? Sure you want to spend time just listening to an old bot blabber on?”

He noticed the smallest tic in her eyebrows when he said that, and she layered her voice so it sloped thickly over her words. “Of course,” she murmured.

The barest hint of hesitation held Nick back. He had never spoken to anyone about his past, except for Ellie, but this felt so much more significant talking to Nora. It felt heavier, like there was greater weight disclosing this information to her.

Like something would change.

But then Nick thought of all the goodness Nora had done. He thought of her risking her life every day for the people of the Commonwealth and how she only did right by them for no selfish gains. He thought of the gentle way she would pet Dogmeat when returning to Home Plate, and how she put up with Nick and his prying, even this far.

At Nick’s prolonged and thoughtful silence, Nora’s smile started to slip. “Nick,” she started. “You don’t actually have to -”

Nick inhaled carefully, and then let it out slowly. “No, no. It’s fine. I suppose it’s a fair trade, after the prying on my end.” He smiled kindly at her. “A detective’s life is never easy, I suppose, but kicking the nosy habit might be worth looking into.”

She laughed softly and smiled non-concomitantly. “Sure thing.”

The old synth heaved a weary sigh. “I suppose I should start with when I arrived at Diamond City . . .”

(**)

“It’s a long story, but I hope it helps, even after the loss of your family. I know you can find a place for yourself here.” Nick chuckled, and added carefully. “From the looks of it, seems like you have. All across the Commonwealth. Everything you’ve built. Sanctuary. The Settlements.” His praise was genuine. “It’s amazing, doll.”

Nora kept silent, her gaze staring down at the trickling stream below her. Nick’s keen eyes caught her fingers absently picking at a loose thread in her jeans, and he waited patiently for her to say anything more.

She took her time coming up with a response, and she said something that surprised him. “Thank you, Nick.”

He watched her like a hawk, “Sure thing, doll,” he said, trying to lace some brevity into his voice. When she didn’t look at him, he felt some concern edge into his question, but his detective’s sense was going haywire. “You need to get something off your chest?”

She heaved a heavy sigh, then looked back to him with a careful smile. “Not yet,” she said. Nick saw sadness deep in her smile, and her eyes, but he chose not to press her further, though he couldn’t help but feel a little tender that she hadn’t chosen to confide in him.

Respectfully, he tilted his head to her. “Well let me know if you need anything.”

In a surprising move, her hand went to pat his thigh just above his knee. Nick stilled at the contact, but allowed it, and looked to her in surprise. She smiled gently toward him, and there was something grateful in her gaze. “I’ll remember that,” she promised.

Nick might have blushed, feeling like this moment was far more intimate than he expected it to be. “Ready to get a move on?”

Nora smiled, and stood to her feet.

He.. He’d talk about all this Angel stuff with her a little bit later, when he was ready to hear what she had to say, maybe.

And right now, Nick didn’t think he was.

Chapter Text

The duo stayed in Sanctuary for a couple of days, and while Nick had plenty of chances to ask Nora about her involvement with the Angels, he could never find the right moment to question her. Even when they were alone, they were never far from someone who might interrupt. And besides, Nora spent a lot of time working on the settlement. She performed tasks like repairing and constructing buildings, and tending to the fields. Running errands for people who needed spare supplies or an extra bit of food to get them through the day, damn kind woman as she was. By the time it was evening and Nick could grab some time alone with her, she was too tired for anything close to a conversation, let alone an interrogation.

Nick helped her from time to time, when she requested it. With his additional mechanical muscle, they built guard towers together, and he stood at her side as she assigned aimless settlers to secure the settlement. They were never upset at their assignment, though, more than happy to have something to do to help build up Sanctuary (and to help pass the day, if they were honest with themselves). Nick watched, impressed, as Nora spoke in polite yet firm tones to the people. He had to say that some of the people even seemed happy for Nora to give them something to do.

“Why don’t they just assign a leader at the settlement to make these decisions for them?” Nick asked one hour late into the day. The sun was setting low over the western horizon. He and Nora sat in the two lawn chairs in front of her house. Nora lounged tiredly, nursing a cold beer in one hand. She looked on wearily at the settlement, but Nick knew she felt pride for the people.

“One day at a time, Nick.” She sighed long and slow. “Just gotta take baby steps.” She took another sip of her drink. Valentine looked on at her a little mournfully, and wished there were more he could do.

“Well, I’ll help how I can,” he offered.

She smiled offhandedly. “Thanks, Nick,” she murmured.

Nick kept a watchful eye on Nora during their couple of days in Sanctuary. All in all, it was great, getting to spend time with Nora and get to know her more. He enjoyed familiarizing himself with her little quirks, and discussing different topics like how she liked Diamond City, and he told her more about some of his own adventures out in the Commonwealth during the working part of the day.

Every once in a while, though, Nick would see Nora looking up the hill behind Sanctuary Hills. He would watch as her eyes would grow misty and stare off into the distance like she was looking for something millions of miles away. She would shift into a perturbed quiet and go so completely still, like a deep pool on a dark night.

Nick thought she looked lost.

“Everything all right?” he would ask her softly when he caught her staring at the hills beyond the settlement.

Clarity would again return to her eyes when she turned to look at him, and the grief deep in her gaze would slowly evaporate like dew in light of the morning sun. “Yes, Nick,” she would say, her voice quiet, soft, and warm. “It’s – I’m fine.”

Nick watched her from the corner of his eye, a cigarette balanced precariously between his fingers. He kept his expression mild, but he saw the weariness weigh heavy on his companion, even after alleviating some of whatever baggage she seemed to carry.

Her glances to the hill over Sanctuary grew more and more frequent, and that was when Nick knew that it was close to her wanting to move on. It was like an itch. Her replies to settlers were more blunt and sharp, and she would linger on her PipBoy, looking at the objectives she had set for herself.

“Time to get a move on?” Nick asked at the dawn of the third day, where she stood in the living room of her house, staring out at the settlement.

Nora took a deep breath, then let it out long and slow. She looked to Nick, and nodded curtly. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Let’s get going.”

Nick graced a small smile, then followed her as Nora led the way.

(**)

“I’ll be back, Preston, but don’t expect me for a while,” Nora said as she gave report to the Lieutenant General. “There are some settlements requesting assistance, so I’ll be gone, but I’ll come back eventually.”

Preston smiled, “I don’t doubt it, General. You be careful out there.”

“Will do,” was all Nora said. She adjusted some things in her pack before slinging it over her shoulder and gesturing for Nick to approach. “Take care, Garvey,” she said in farewell.

Preston clasped her forearm, and she returned it, determination lining his face. “Keep out of trouble, yeah?” he said.

Nick chuckled. “I’ll keep out of trouble if she does,” and he couldn’t help but think of the assembly plant Nora had put on her checklist of places to go and clear out.

From behind him, Nick suddenly heard footsteps approaching. He turned carefully, and made tense eye contact with the Brotherhood Knight, Danse, who looked at Nick with nothing less than absolute disgust. Nick pressed his lips together, but kept his expression neutral as the soldier brushed coldly past the detective. Danse’s lips curled up into a sneer. “Valentine.”

“Danse,” Nick returned just as cold.

It was enough acknowledgment from Danse, because he turned back to Nora, who watched the knight carefully as he approached her, then went to salute the dark-haired woman. “Stay safe out there, Knight,” he said to Nora in farewell.

Nora was quiet for a moment, and spoke softly. “You too, Danse.”

The soldier nodded once, then turned to Preston smartly. “Anything need attending to right away?” he asked, curt and prompt, a soldier through and through.

Preston shook his head, a small smile up one side of his lips. “No, not right now, Danse. Thank you, though. I’ll alert you if anything comes up.”

Danse looked between Preston, over to Nick, then back to Preston again. “..Alright,” he said, plainly uncomfortable, somehow. “Business as usual, then. I’ll carry on.”

“Sounds good,” Preston murmured.

And it was subtle, Nick almost missed it. Paladin Danse saluted Nora and Preston one more time, then swept past the both of them toward the garage where he kept his Power Armor.

As he went by, his right hand reached casually to Preston’s arm, and brushed his finger at the elbow. A quick, meaningful glance, and warmth in human cheeks.

Ah, Nick couldn’t help but think, amused as he watched the heat rise up to Preston’s face. So that’s how it is...

Nick glanced to Nora, who looked at him quickly before turning her gaze away, looking embarrassed by how Danse continued to address her. The detective said nothing.

The attention of both was drawn away as Nora’s black and brown dog bounded toward the woman with a joyful bark, falling into whines and tail wags as he lapped at her face in farewell. Nora couldn’t help the small giggles of laughter as the dog bounced and pressed himself against her, whimpering joyfully at the attention Nora gave him. “Good boy, good boy,” she laughed, hugging the dog and trying to shield her face from his slobbery tongue. “Take care of everyone here, boy; be good.”

Dogmeat yipped at her, gave her one more lick on her face, and went to go stand next to Preston.

Nora stood up with a laugh, wiping her face with her flannel sleeve before turning to Nick. “Alright, Nick. Let’s go.”

Nick nodded once, and put out his cigarette beneath his foot.

(**)

“Do you mind if I ask you a question, about the Brotherhood?” Nick asked, not long after the pair had left Sanctuary. The Red Rocket was just behind them, with Concord stretched out below. The sun rose clear and bright in the sky, brightening the clear blue of the day that stretched across the horizon.

Nora answered easily enough. “Sure.”

“You mentioned a few nights ago that you were desperate when you joined them. . . Why? What were you desperate for, I mean.” The detective took one step aside to let her walk ahead of him, and she took the trail easily in front of him, so he didn’t get to see her expression when he asked about her history with the Brotherhood of Steel.

Her responding question was curt but teasing. “Why the interrogation?”

“Not an interrogation. Just a query,” he amended in turn. He looked at her full-on, intent on getting the whole story related to her past. She may have ended his path towards answers when he was asking Preston questions, but that didn’t mean his curiosity was any less potent. “And you said that I should ask you upfront any questions. I’m just following the rules, doll,” he smirked at her, saw as she rolled her eyes, but was smiled nonetheless.

“Fine, fine, fair enough,” she said. “I’ll give you that one.”

He waited in curious silence, waiting for her to supplement their conversation. After a moment, she seemed to find the words she was looking for. “I joined the Brotherhood because. . . they had what I needed, at that time in my life.”

Nick watched her while they walked, and he listened to the tandem of their steps as they went. “And what was that?”

“Stability,” she replied promptly. “I knew I couldn’t survive as a farmer on my own, and I wanted safety. The Brotherhood-” she paused, “they gave me a people to go to. Something I could call my own.”

God if that didn’t strike a cord with Nick, nothing she ever said would. “I understand,” he rumbled in reply, thinking of his little detective office with the glowing heart hanging in the alley. “You want something to stake a claim on for yourself. Something no one else can take from you.”

She nodded in affirmation from what he said, and looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Exactly. The Brotherhood seemed, at the time, to be strong. There were so many, and had so many resources, that it was safe to want to join their cause. . .”

Her words trailed off, leaving Nick to feel in the gaps. “Something changed?”

“I thought they would value the old world’s ways. I thought they were soldiers with honor and bravery who strove for truth,” there was an edge in her voice. Nick just barely caught it before it slipped away.

Huh. The old world. . . “What were they then, really?”

Nora glared. “Bigots, a group of ignorant fools who want to believe that humanity could exist in only one form.”

Nick nearly fell over at her words, her statement causing his throat to clog up as he swallowed back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn’t believe how relieving a statement it was for her to say something like that. It was clear she shared his sentiment about the Brotherhood and what they stood for.

“I stayed with them for about a month or so, which is when I started to realize what they were really about. After that, I insisted on only working for them if it was absolutely necessary for the greater good. I couldn’t risk my conscious to do something that would hurt innocent synths.”

Nora kept her eyes ahead as she walked and declared all of this to Nick. He looked to her in awe and admiration for what she said, and smiled privately to himself as he kept pace at her side, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The former-farmer heaved a heavy sigh, and looked out to the hazy skyline of the Boston ruins. “That’s what I think, at least.”

Nick waited in thoughtful quiet for a moment, but then uttered, “Thank you, Nora.”

She turned her head to look at him, a question in her eyes. He lifted his own to meet hers. “Thank you for standing up . . . for synths who don’t have the strength to stand on their own. It’s reassuring to know there’s someone out there willing to fight for the rights of folks who are different.”

Nora’s smile was soft and gentle, and her eyes crinkled at the edges as she smiled at Nick. “You’re welcome, Mr. Valentine,” she said, tone soft. “I’m happy to go to bat for you.”

Nick felt the pumps and gears in his mechanical body move a little bit faster, though he had no idea as to why.

Or at least.. he didn’t want to acknowledge the ‘why’.

And that was alright. For now.

It had to be.

(**)

Courage was a tricky thing.

It could manifest as as something entirely different for totally different people. Someone new to the Wasteland may see destroying a colony of radroaches as brave, whereas an experienced wastelander may see this as a somewhat trivial task.

In a similar way, it was easy for Nick to dig for the truth, but it was difficult, as this involved a friend, and potential partner, should the revealed truth be one he could live with.

No one was perfect; he understood that. Everyone had their flaws, their Achilles heel, the skeletons in their closet. Surely Nora had some of her own. What mattered is if, in this day and age, if it was redeemable by Commonwealth standards.

The right thing to do would be to confront Nora and ask about her communication with the Angels, but Nick was afraid of what he might find. Afraid of the skeletons he might unearth.

He knew in his cold, mechanical chest that he would ask her, given time. It was just a matter of finding the right moment.

Beyond his own sense of conflict, the altruist within the detective knew it needed to be done. There was no possible way that he could go to Malcolm Latimer and tell him that he had chosen to not investigate a lead. This was unthinkable to the detective, and he could only imagine the expression on his client -a father’s face as the detective would relay that his son’s case had officially gone cold.

In the moment, Nick sighed, and took another whiff of his cigarette, breathing heavily as he tried to ignore the guilt on his heart. Already, he had prolonged this moment for too long, and now the weight of what he needed to do felt so much heavier.

But he looked at Nora across the fire from where the two had set up camp, sitting on a log, and he looked at her good and hard. He was surprised to see that she was studying him just as intently, but when caught, didn’t flinch away. She simply straightened her back, and looked at him with an expression he could only describe as ‘wide-eyed.’ Against the darkness, her hair blended into the night, casting a visual trick that she was one with the darkness, an eternal being of shadows and endless night. The fire didn’t do anything to help with the illusion, either, casting flickering orange light about her face with ominous crackling. When Nick glanced to her eyes, it was like looking into the eyes of a stalking jungle cat.

Nick was in awe of her, and he found his mouth stumbling to catch up with his brain.

“Doll, I-um I- I need to talk to you.”

She locked her gaze with his and raised her eyebrows. “About what, Nick?” She kept a pleasant lilt in her voice, but he could hear some underlying tension beneath her words. Her tone softened further. “What is it?”

He had to break away from her stare, and fiddled with his hands as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I gotta admit, I heard some things while we’ve been traveling, about you, and I want to clear up some information with you personally. Y’know. Rather than spread any misinformation around, or think wrongly of you.” Good. That sounded better than I suspect you may play a part with the Angels and you may or may not be my current primary suspect. Or at the very least a lead which could point me to who the killer actually is. Nick tapped his fingers together, a little bit anxiously.

The detective looked up in time to see Nora lower her eyes for a second in thought, and then look up to him, eyes shining true and clear. “Okay. Fair enough.” She blinked, and adjusted her position a little. “Shoot.”

Nick thought she seemed way too comfortable and prepared for this, but he chalked it up to her own experience as a communicator for the Commonwealth – if as much was true. The detective inched a little closer to the fire upon her almost casual acceptance to his questions, and he let his mind fall into full-on detective mode. Just bite the damn bullet, Nick. “Tell me what you know about the Angels.”

At once, Nora went on alert, and Nick had the plunging sensation that some kind of dance was starting. She met his stare evenly. “Not much, I don’t think most people can even agree if they’re real or just a myth. An urban legend.”

Nick was never much of a dancer. “Let’s cut the crap, Nora. I talked to Preston, and he told me that you were in contact with their syndicate – that you helped to arrange this agreement between the Minutemen and the Angels for when they were short on numbers against hostiles. I want you to tell me about that.”

She met his penetrating gaze steadily, and looked away in a guilty manner. “Okay, I just. Sorry. Sorry.” Her fingers rapped against the log underneath her. “Look – it’s just that if people knew the Angels existed, or that the faction I led was in cahoots with them, everything would fall apart.”

“What would?” Nick pried, his voice gentle and soothing, fighting to ignore the swoop he felt in his gut at her admission. Damn- he actually got her to talk.

A single brow lifted. “Essentially everything would fall apart, Nicky. The safety I secured for settlers when we made the agreement, the knowledge that if I went to sleep at night and missed an alert, the settlement would be okay regardless. Freedom is knowing that no one needs you, and it’s what I worked for.”

It was a fair enough argument, and it sounded about on par for Nora, who always worked to help others, even to the point of pushing herself to collapsing exhaustion. But - “And what of the settlers who died by their own hands?”

She glanced to Nick from the corner of her eye. “Died?” she echoed. When her words failed and she couldn’t find herself to say anything more, Nick nodded and explained.

“Part of what the Angels do is performing particular assassinations on certain people in the settlements. The kinds of people that ruffle feathers and don’t get along with others. What safety are they guaranteed?”

Nora frowned at him, “Those deaths would happen either way, wouldn’t they? Regardless of the deal made between the Angels and the Minutemen.”

Nick frowned at her in turn. “But the people killed in their sleep sure don’t get any of that additional help and resources from having the Minutemen around – namely that they have to give their lives for the cause without getting anything in return. Meanwhile people they trusted get to sleep in safety and their murderers line their pockets with caps.”

Nora glared at the detective. “No one in the settlements protest it, Nick, because without the Angels, not one of them would be alive.”

So she did support the Angels, then. Stubbornness kept it’s root in Nick’s gut, so he refused to back down. “So you condone it, then?” he asked, bitter and sharp. “You think the people who were murdered by these vigilantes in their sleep deserved to die? Doesn’t sound like justice to me, even for the Commonwealth.” Nick feared her answer, and even worse, he feared any of the oncoming disgust it might yield. Would she really condone murder?

(**CONTENT WARNING-- mention/discussion of sexual assault, rape, domestic and child abuse, disbelieving victims**))

As he expected, fire blazed fast and swift through Nora’s eyes, but while anger boiled clearly in her gaze, the only physical manifestations he noted of her anger were her fists clenched at her side. When she spoke, her voice was oddly level and cool, though her words startled him. “Have you ever been raped, Nick? Sexually assaulted in some way? Possibly by someone you love?”

What kind of turn-around question was-?

Nick flinched back at the sudden change in topic, immediately assaulted with the feeling of awkward. Still, he answered the question, and shook his head. “No.”

She paid no heed to his reply. “Ever been beaten, kicked, and abused by someone who said they loved you?”

Nick did not shake his head, starting to understand where this was going.

Nora went on, her words clipped, growing faster. “How about someone who suffered from something like that? Someone you must have known who endured abuse and lived in fear every waking moment of their lives? And all from someone who was supposed to love and protect them?”

Nick felt a flashback course fast through his mind, and he saw blue eyes gleaming with tears in his mind’s eye.

Jenny.

Her voice filled with fear whenever he took night shift. Tears as she recalled an abusive childhood. Ugly sobs as she trembled with fear at the thought of his face becoming as broken and mangled as her brother’s. Blonde hair wet with tears born of fear and suffering.

Her body lying on the street, white skin in a pool of red. Blonde hair surrounding her head like a halo. Blue eyes open and frozen in an expression of fear.

Back in the present, was Nora.

Terrifying, god-like Nora.

The emerald fire in her eyes was merciless. “I’ve met and seen women who have been through more hell than even I have ever been through. Beaten without mercy until their bodies or minds are about to break from the pressure, just because one prick couldn’t let go of his control.” Nick realized that the disgust he feared taking on now lay dormant in her eyes as she looked him up and down with contempt. “So yeah,” she said, and her voice was bold. “Whoever they were, those people the Angels took out? They deserved to die.”

Nick imagined he would have felt a chill go through him if he were still flesh and blood as Nora proclaimed this declaration of war. The detective allowed himself to look down in shame. “Didn’t mean any disrespect, doll. To you or anyone else who suffered through that.”

She was appeased, at least for the moment, but her gaze didn’t lose any of their heat. “So what do you suggest as justice, Nick Valentine? What price should such people pay for their wrongdoings?”

Nick frowned at the ground, and chose to say his words carefully, and honestly. “I don’t know, doll. All I know is that it isn’t fair for people to be killed like this without some kind of due process. These people can’t play the judge, jury, and executioner without being kept in check.”

“Who’s to say they don’t have ways to ensure that their targets are exactly as rotten as they’re believed to be?” Nora challenged, voice cool and distant.

“Then why do it all in the shadows? Why not just.. call attention to the person themselves? Tell other people in the settlement and take care of it that way? What purpose is there to go to a league of assassins to do the dirty work?” Nick bit back just as hard, frustrated that Nora wasn’t able to see it from his view and understand. “I see your point doll, people you describe who are like that that can’t get to hell fast enough, but why can’t there be some due process to sorting something like that out?”

Nora looked at him from the side of her vision like he was an absolute moron, expression entirely void of the hot anger that was present just moments before. “Nick,” she said, calling his name from across the fire, her tone low and appeasing. “You ever think that.. maybe the rest of the settlers wouldn’t have believed them? Maybe they were upstanding citizens in the community, and no one would believe the victim if they said they were being abused. It’s hard to speak out, especially when you know people with take the abuser’s side.”

Shit. Nick hadn’t thought of that, and it silenced him. He had enough memory of the Old World to remember that, how it was hard for victims to step forward. Most times it was just brushed under the rug, hoped that if people just ignored or didn’t talk about the problem, that it would just go away, not exist. But that’s not how it worked. Just because it wasn’t being acknowledged, didn’t mean it wasn’t still happening.

(**//END OF CONTENT WARNING//**)

Nick watched as Nora’s shoulders lifted and fell in a sigh of resignation, and she relented, “I don’t know, Nick. But honestly? I’m not losing much sleep over the people that are gone. Even if you want to call it murder, I’d say it’s justified.” She kicked a bit of dirt into the fire with her boot, uncaring, and unmovable.

He looked away, upset, but unwilling to disclose how much her words wounded him. He knew there had to be a catch; there just had to be something they couldn’t agree with. And it had to be on their definition of what murder was.

Nick frowned a little, catching himself wanting to amend her beliefs. It wasn’t totally fair to judge her, though. Even Nick could recognize that as adjusted as he was, he was a product of a different time, when there were rules and formal processes of convicting wrong-doers. He couldn’t blame Nora if her idea of justice and right and wrong were a little more brutal to accommodate the world they lived in now. Maybe it was him who needed to let go of some things...

“Nick. . .” she called to him. He looked up at the gentleness in her voice. He couldn’t hide his surprise as he watched her come around the fire to where he sat on the rock. Nick scooted over to allow her some room, and she looked at him in a manner that was almost shy. “I’m not going to abandon you, though, just because we disagree on something like this.” He watched, entranced as she bit the corner of her lip. “I hope that’s been clear between us. I’m not going to choose to abandon our friendship just because we don’t totally align with our definition of justice.”

The detective regarded her silently, amazed at how in line her thinking was with his own. In his chest, the synth felt something in him flutter and stir as she mentioned the word ‘friendship.’ Is that what he had? A friend? There weren’t many people Nick could consider to fall under that category. Ellie certainly did, but he couldn’t think of anyone beyond that. Piper and Hancock, maybe, but, they felt more like acquaintances than anything else.

“I’d like that, doll,” he rumbled in his deep voice. He tilted his head up to meet her own eyes, and he saw the light of his glowing orbs reflected in her green depths. “And I’d like your help on this case, if you’d be willing.” Where he sat against the fire, he adjusted his position so he could look at her more steadily. “I just need you to tell me about your interaction with the Angels – how they communicated with you and some of the details around it.”

Nora was careful and considerate as she marinated his request. She looked up from beneath her eyelashes. “I have just one question to you, Valentine,” and her voice was the thick smoke that let him know she was in her negotiating mode. “What are you going to do with the Angels if you ever catch them?”

Nick kept himself as still as a statue from her question, careful to reveal nothing of his spinning and screaming inner thoughts. He, too, was slow and considerate of his words in turn. “. . . I’ll listen to their story, and I’ll pursue righteous justice from there.” He shook his head. “Besides. I’m not looking to take down the entire organization. Not what I was hired for- certainly not accommodated to do anything like that. Just.. following a lead, figuring out if one of theirs killed someone who had no business being killed.”

“Someone who didn’t need to be killed?” Nora asked, voice disbelieving. “Who?”

“The son of an Upper-Stander from Diamond City, Nelson Latimer, son of Malcolm. Got himself into trouble, I guess, tangled up in some chems, but his father thinks his son was murdered by someone in the Angels. A witness saw a person with angels’ wings on their back.”

To his confusion, Nick saw as Nora’s face paled, expression showing her shock- just the slightest little uptick in her eyebrows.

And then in an instant, it was gone, never one to allow herself to show fear. “A kid?” she echoed, voice sounding still and far-away. “An Upper-Stander from Diamond City..”

Nick nodded, sympathetic. “Yeah. I found it hard to believe, too. Scary when something like that hits close to home.” He tilted his head. “You okay, doll?”

Nora nodded, and cast her gaze aside, back to the fire. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just.. shocked, I guess.” There was something haunted about her voice, her eyes. Then she shook her head, sighed, and looked back to him with a new air of certainty. “Then yes, I’ll tell you about the Angels- whatever I know that can try to help, when I was communicating with them, from the Minutemen.”

Nick smiled to her in turn, grateful. “I appreciate it, doll. I really do.” He even dared to press his shoulder to hers. “I know it can’t be easy.. talking about this when they helped the Minutemen settlements. But.. I just want to bring peace to a boy’s father.”

Nora nodded, mute, and began to speak.

But even still, the detective’s voice inside him couldn’t help but mourn and wail, because her question about the Angels, and what he would do with them, had revealed one awful truth about her stake in this case.

Something about this is personal to her.

Chapter Text

For hours into the night, Nick grilled Nora about her part in communicating with the Angels.

--

Nora sat hunched over, rubbing her hands together and bent over, avoiding Nick’s gaze from across the fire. “We never met in person. Only through messages placed in a mailbox at Sanctuary. And I think whoever sent them used a different person to write the message, because I noticed the handwriting was never the same.”

The detective sat quietly. “How many messages were there between the two groups?”

Nora sighed softly. “Mm. I don’t know. Several dozen, maybe? It was a pretty tight system. Only Preston or I were ever allowed to read them.”

“Did you ever think of having someone watch the mailbox so you could follow and find where they were?”

Nora shook her head. “It wasn’t worth it, and they warned us against doing that, said if we even tried to that the deal would be off. And I just – Nick-” she placed a hand to her forehead and leaned forward over her knees. “I couldn’t do it anymore, Nick. I really couldn’t. So many people had died on settlements because I didn’t get there on time; I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

The detective heard the grief thick in her voice, and he rubbed her back soothingly. “I understand, doll. You were doing what you thought was best for the people in the settlements. No one can blame you for that.”

She sighed beneath his hand, his palm rising and falling with the breath that filled her lungs. Another question came to mind. “I don’t suppose you have any copies of these messages?” It was worth a shot..

Perhaps rather predictably, she shook her head. “We were told to destroy all messages after receiving them.”

Not surprising. Smart, if anything. Nick would have to keep on his toes for this one if he was really going to get to the bottom of it. “Tell me, then, what they said.”

She leaned back where she sat on the rock, and he steadied his hand against her lower back as she straightened her posture. Nora frowned and stared into the distance, contemplative. “It was mostly about dealings – a proposition offered by them in exchange for possible sanctuary or compensation in return for services.”

Nick perked up at that. “Sanctuary?” he quizzed.

Nora looked at him. “A signal that in case anything in their organization were to go belly-up, that the members would have a place to go in case of an emergency.”

Nick only felt confusion. “Hm. An interesting term.”

Clueless, Nora shrugged. “It never came up. So we’ve kept a tentative partnership ever since.” The woman looked back at her feet. “And that was it.”

--

All in all, the discussion was helpful, but also completely unproductive, because it left Nick with a very thin trail to go off of.

It seemed like whoever was directing this group had used their heads. No personal appearance, and no consistent hand writings for him to compare across the Commonwealth. Not even any to examine, to begin with. The only thing he learned was that they were composed of a large number of people and may need sanctuary in the case of a life-threatening event.

Wonder what that’s supposed to mean, the detective pondered, and tried to dig into the details. To require sanctuary, they would need some sort of enemy. Surely more than just the wayward feral ghoul or band of raiders or supermutants. Something bigger. More of a threat. But who were they building up against? The Institute was out, and if they had a deal with the Minutemen, the only factions left were the Brotherhood or the Railroad. This didn’t seem like the Railroad’s typical MO, though. So, if anything, the Brotherhood may agree with their idea of justice.

“Maybe Raiders?” he mumbled thoughtfully to himself. “A huge band of them?” He puffed out a breath, and ran a hand over his head, brushing off his hat. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Raiders are loud. If there was a big enough group to take out the Angels, people would have heard about them, by now...”

Nick leaned back and gazed at the stars high above him, and twirled a cigarette between his fingers. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, then glanced over at his companion curled up beside the fire in her sleeping bag, resting peacefully. As Nick gazed thoughtfully at her, she stirred in her sleep, frowning, her mouth turned down in a grimace.

Where did she stand in all this?

Did she maybe know someone who was part of the Angels?

Her only living relative was her brother, who lived out in Diamond City, and he didn’t seem like the assassin type. It could always be a friend or someone else, though. There were no limits as to who she may know that was connected to the Angels. If what Garvey said was true, after all, she has a multitude of contacts scattered throughout the Commonwealth. It wouldn’t be impossible to believe that she knew a person tangled up with this guild.

Another sigh escaped the synth, this one heavy and slow. He turned his gaze to the fire, watching as it crackled and ate at the scraps of wood for fuel. For a moment, Nick let his mind go quiet, but he looked sharply to his side when he heard Nora whimper in her sleep.

She was turning, her brows in a scowl as a fearful whine escaped her lips. Her hair was strewn about her head like some dark halo, and she almost seemed to be wrestling with the sleeping bag around her as it constrained her movements.

Nick reached down with his intact hand, and gently brushed her hair along her forehead. “Easy there, Nora. You’re okay.” He continued the motion of brushing her hair along her forehead, and did so until her whimpers eased back into silence, and the tension was removed from her brow. It wasn’t until she sighed quietly that Nick let his feelings rise up to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

“What the hell are you doing, Nick?” he whispered, and withdrew his hand back to himself.

(**)

It was with careful decision and planning the next day that Nick finally decided to ask Nora outright if she would help him with his case against the Angels. He had reservations, of course, especially if she had a personal stake in the outcome of the case, but Nick knew the old saying to keep friends close and enemies closer. That wasn’t to say Nora was an enemy, by any means, especially since she did share his own ambition for justice (though in a way that differed from Nick’s), but it seemed wise to keep her along in case she did choose to reveal more to him.

Besides, he didn’t want to spook her off with more interrogative questions. If she got the feeling she was a suspect, she might close off. And Nick couldn’t risk that.

So maybe asking her along would change things.

Nora accepted his offer with a smile. “I’d love to.”

The duo headed off.

(**)

For the following week, Nick and Nora spent every moment of their time with each other as they took the long and slow way back towards the remains of Boston. True to her word, they took out the raiders in the Corvega Assembly Plant near Lexington, and even eliminated a Super Mutant Behemoth while they were at it. After the beast had fallen and the pair had sorted through their spoils, Nick asked her curiously, “We gonna head back to Sunshine, then? Collect some payment?”

The woman shrugged good-naturedly. “No hurry. Once the raider attacks stop coming through, they’ll know the job was done. We can swing by to pick up payment on our way back north.” She tossed a few pieces of junk out of her pack to make way for more important supplies. At his question, she glanced up from behind her eyeglasses to smirk. “Why?” she asked. “You anxious for some compensation? Got some debt you need to pay off, detective?”

Nick looked away from her, his body physically blushing in his posture as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. “Not at all,” he returned. “Just don’t want you going hungry or anything if you don’t have the caps to pay for what you need.”

“Aww, you’re sweet, Nick,” she returned, but as she held up her spare tin of caps and shook it, her smile was confident. “I’ve got a good amount saved up in here. Don’t need to worry about me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

(**)

~elsewhere~

“Goodneighbor, eh? My kinda town. Why don’t we come here more often, Deaky?” the red-headed woman asked as she walked in step with the bald-headed drifter.

“Because we’d never see you again, Bruiser. Oh wait, on second thought-”

Bruiser laughed at his teasing. She punched him good-heartedly in the shoulder, and though it was supposed to be light, it still caused him to stagger forward with his sunglasses askew. “Ey, be nice, Deaky. I know you like having me here.”

The agent made a noncommitant sound and adjusted his sunglasses and hat that covered his bald head. “Let’s just find Bulls-eye and get out of here. The less time we stay here the better.”

The woman with the Irish accent laughed, and adjusted the straps across her arm. “Sure thing. As long as you don’t mind me gettin’ a drink while we’re at it.”

Deacon sighed and tugged on his blue padded jacket. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

(**)

“Deac! Bruiser! Good to see you; it’s been a while.” Lounging on his couch in the Third Rail, the mercenary sipped his Nuka Cola while his trademark sniper rifle rested across his chest like a child would a teddy bear.

“Hey there, Mac. Some would say it hasn’t been long enough,” Deacon returned a bit tersely, his voice dry.

The cocky young man grinned. It was no secret in their organization that Mac wasn’t great at getting along with others, but this was especially true between him and Deacon. The agent detested the kind of work the mercenary did, but who could protest when the Boss trusted him oh so deeply? It had to be those big puppy dog eyes, no two ways about it. “Aw, don’t be like that Deaky,” the younger man teased. “I thought you enjoyed these little meetings.”

Deacon swung his head towards Mac, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as he looked between MacCready and Cait. “So you two came up with that little nickname!”

Cait, also known as Bruiser, grinned cheekily, while Mac smirked with a shit-eating grin that alerted whoever was nearby that mischief was afoot. “Hey, I was just trying to bond with the other agents, like we were told to by the Boss. Now we’re closer than ever, ain’t that right Caity?”

The Irish woman laughed from deep in her chest. “You got that right, Mac! Closer than ever.” She came over and gave him a solid punch to his shoulder like an older sibling would. Mac flinched and rubbed at his shoulder, “And don’t call me Caity,” she added.

Deacon snorted, and rubbed at the center of his forehead. “Remind me never to team the two of you up. A recipe for disaster, no doubt.”

The pair of them laughed, as if it were all some joke, but stopped as soon as Deacon went to the relevant information. “We have a target for you, Bulls-eye.” From an interior pocket, Deacon retrieved a small, folded piece of paper, yellowed and frayed at the edges.

Turning back to the job, Bulls-eye leaned forward to take the paper. “Not very often I get an assignment from you, Silver. This one from the Boss?”

Deacon said nothing, but that was confirmation enough for Bulls-eye, who unfolded the paper and scanned through the information on the target. He grunted as if what he read made sense to him, and placed it into the pocket in his coat. “This one totally cleared, then?”

“Of course,” Deacon replied. “And you’ll be paid your standard, as per usual.”

Mac grinned cheekily. “Now hold on. This is comin’ directly from the Boss, right? Well that must mean that it’s pretty important not to fu- mess up. I’m thinking I should get a little more.”

Deacon groaned at the same time that Cait laughed. “Boss said you would try to pull that,” she said loudly, and slapped her hand on Deacon’s back jovially. The agent grunted wordlessly, but rolled his shoulder a bit, as if trying to loosen up his muscles and joints.

“Yes, well,” Deacon ground out. “We can offer you an increase. 310 caps.”

MacCready scoffed. “Pah! As if. 400.”

“325.”

“375.”

“350.”

“Deal,” Mac grinned, and stood quickly to his feet, nearly bouncing as he grabbed for his sniper rifle. He slung the strap over his shoulder, adjusting it accordingly so it fit comfortably against his chest. “I’ll head out immediately.”

Deacon grumbled, but he gestured to Cait, and she moved to begin dispensing the amount of caps agreed upon. As she counted out the proper amount, Mac chuckled, as if in a private joke. “Thought I heard that you guys wouldn’t be working together. Something change?” His tone was innocent, but when Deacon caught a glimpse in the merc’s eyes, he knew that the gun-for-hire was on to them.

The agent tried not to show his irritation in his body language, so he smiled in an effort to throw off his true emotions. The grin felt stiff. “Bruiser and I just couldn’t resist the temptation to work together. We just have a click that no one else gets. We braid each other’s hair, tell secrets at sleepovers, and sneak some drinks from the parent’s liquor stash.”

Cait chuckled and went to take Deacon into a side-hug. “The Lady Boss said I needed to accompany him, be his ‘Bruiser’ in case something ever goes south.” She pressed her fist against Deacon’s face in a friendly manner. “Just sounds to me like this little boy-o needs help defending himself out there in the big bad Commonwealth.”

A loud laugh erupted from Mac, and he threw his head back, grasping his stomach. “Oh my gosh! So she paired you two together! Wow – Boss really knows how to pair ‘em, doesn’t she?”

Cait laughed with MacCready, the two of them no different than giggling schoolgirls playing a prank on a friend.

Deacon’s smile was strained, but remained in place. “So – any other questions on the hit?”

“Nope,” Bulls-eye said in turn, wiping at his eye as he tried to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “I’ll head out straight away. Who do I report to?”

“Back here. When you return to the Third Rail, we’ll know you were successful. Rebel will let us know.”

Mac nodded. “All right. I’ll head out, then.”

“Good luck, Bulls-eye, not that you’ll need it,” Cait said with a wink. “We’ll be waiting for you when you finish the job.”

“See you later, Cait. Don’t bother holding your breath waiting for me; I’ll be back in a jiffy.” The merc tossed a wink back at her, and held up his hand in a casual farewell before brushing past the two and slipping up the stairs to exit the Third Rail.

The duo sighed, and Cait looked at Deacon with a Cheshire grin. “Well, that’s all done. Want to buy me a drink to celebrate?”

“No, Bruiser.”

Chapter Text

Nick and Nora climbed the stairs to Diamond City, and released audible sighs of relief upon seeing the bustling city people move and operate through the market. Whole and unchanged, still charging through and standing to meet every challenge it faced.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Nora said, her voice gentle. Nick turned his head in her direction. Her eyes were soft, her voice whimsical, and her words nostalgic. When he said nothing, she continued. “200 years ago, this place was just a baseball field, a small part in a city containing millions of people. Now,” she looked with something like pride at the people below, “this baseball field is the hub of the Commonwealth, a place of safety where maybe 20 people make a city.” Her laugh was breathless, perhaps with amazement.

Nick smiled gently in turn, and his own mind was awash with memories that did not belong to him. Times he could recall Nick Valentine the human police detective going to games, inhaling hotdogs and slurping down beer. The crowds, the scent of fried food, alcohol, and people clamoring for good seats to watch the game with tints of cigarette smoke permeating the air.

Nick sighed with his own sense of nostalgia. “I do miss the crowds,” he said, his voice somber. “I miss being able to blend in with people, to be indistinguishable from anyone else.”

Nora looked at him, but he would never know if it was from pity, or empathy, or even understanding. “Everything’s different now,” Nick went on. “200 years can do that.” He turned to look at her again, and his smile was wistful. “But, even after the bombs, I don’t think it’s been a bad change, in the end.”

At his words, Nora’s expression twisted a little into something he couldn’t name. Remorse? Regret? Longing? Whatever it was, it must have struck a cord deep in her, as she reached over to grab his hand in hers, and to squeeze it. “Thank you, Nick. Really. It’s easy to get disheartened in a place like the Commonwealth.”

Her words felt heavier than he could ever comprehend, like there was a significant weight around them he couldn’t explain. More than that, he was absolutely flustered by her hand gently holding his, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to do.

Not faltered by his silence, and apparently lost in her own thoughts, Nora sighed as she looked over the city. “I miss coffee with cream in it, and sugar. Black coffee is alright in a bind, but I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth.”

Nick’s little detective sensor in his head went off, and the little flag in his mind rose higher as Nora expressed this nostalgic thought. Nick opened his mouth to say something and pry for more – did she have cream and sugar at her old farm? That didn’t seem possible – but was interrupted as she turned to look at him again, smiling. “I’ve got some business to take care of; think you’ll be all right without me for a few hours?”

He shut his mouth and instead of asking his question, said, “Sure thing, doll. Will I meet you at your place, or should I expect you in the office?”

She thought about it for a second. “I’ll wait for you. I’m just going to attend some business around the city and then go back to Home Plate to refresh myself a little bit. I’m thinking we might stay the night, if that’s okay with you.” The frown marring her features lightened a little, and she looked up in a manner that was almost shy. “That is, if you’re still interested in traveling together?”

Nick shrugged, unable to keep the smile from curling up his face. “Sure. Would be nice, heading back out there, again. Good to have someone watching your back, especially while solving a case.”

Nora smiled in turn at his words, the grin stretching easily up her face. “Okay, well. I’ll see you later, Detective Valentine.” She casually reached out to flick the brim of his hat up, and Nick felt his hard drives warm from her smile alone. “Don’t take it too easy; we’ll head out for the open road again tomorrow. Maybe solve that case of yours, if you’re up for it.”

The detective smiled in turn, chuckling as he adjusted his hat over his head. “Sure thing, doll. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He watched as she made her way down the stadium steps, and it was his visual acuity that caused him to stare at the way her hair was tousled by the wind, and to admire how she walked with a light step but with an unnameable air of confidence. From where he stood, the synth could hear Nat calling out below from where she stood on her upturned box, selling the latest issue of Publick Occurences. He glanced a little to the left, where he saw young Piper leaning against her home, reporter hat tilted up to let the warm sun shine on her face and glistening black hair.

“Pipes!” Nick heard Nora call, and he watched as the two women ran to embrace each other in reunion.

“Hey, Blue!” Piper exclaimed, her grin stretching from ear to ear as the two exchanged pleasantries. Nick had no doubt that their conversation would turn to the latest gossip about the city and the wasteland. He neared them as he walked down the stairs, smirking privately to himself as he glanced at them one more time. At a glance, the two could almost be sisters, with their dark ebony hair and matching heights. A wonder they got along so well.

The nosy reporter caught sight of Nick trying to discreetly walk by, and she called out playfully. “I see you’re still in one piece after going out with Blue, Nick!”

He chuckled as he passed, and watched as Nora elbowed Piper for her teasing, her face almost flushed with embarrassment. “Be nice, Piper,” Nora muttered just loud enough for Nick to hear.

“Miracle I made it home,” Nick continued in jest, and he caught Nora’s gaze when she looked at him, as if the two were sharing a private joke. “Between raiders, yao gui’s, deathclaws-”

Bang! Ziiing!

The buzzing was so swift and so misplaced when it went past Nick’s auditory receptors, that he wasn’t even certain if what he heard was correct.

All the same, the detective spun at the sound of the gunshot, just as people through the market began screaming in fear. Citizens began scrambling for shelter, and amid the chaos, Nick heard the sound of a solitary thump onto the dusty ground.

Nick glanced at the direction of where the sound came from, and then found his gaze moving automatically back to where Nora was.

He wasn’t surprised to see a lack of fear in her gaze, but he did recognize a familiar determination and shock at this random act of violence.

However, in that moment, Nick and Nora knew exactly what the other would do.

Nick ran in the direction of the gunshot, because of his sense of justice, and his background as a police detective.

Meanwhile, Nora made a hard sprint to the fallen victim to tend to any wounds or implement any life-saving measures, because that’s just the kind of person she was.

The shooter must be somewhere in the upper stands, out of the way, in a place that the guards wouldn’t notice. But it still had to be in a place that the shooter could target someone in the market.

Nick ran up the ramp to the entrance of the city, his eyes frantically skimming for any sign of – there!

Clambering through the stands and running along the upper length of the stadium, toward the crest. A sniper rifle across his back with his coattails flying in the wind. Valentine would know that mercenary, anywhere.

MacCready.

“Get back here, you!” Nick roared, his limbs pushing him forward, fighting against every creak and whine of protest. That spineless, heartless idiot! No sense of morals, no sense of responsibility-

If Mac heard Valentine, he didn’t show it, and it only seemed to spur the young human’s muscles to carry him further as he ran down the lengths of the stadium.

Where the hell is he planning on going? There’s only one way in and out of Diamond City.

The mercenary-turned-assassin seemed to have realized that as well, because as he ran, Nick was slowly catching up to him, despite the old bot knowing the youngster could run faster and farther than he could.

Looking for an exit; he’s panicked.

“No where to run, kid!” Nick yelled, still in relentless pursuit. “Turn yourself in now, we can figure this all out!”

Mac didn’t seem to be betting on that one, though, and the mercenary cast one swift glance over his shoulder to Valentine running along the bleachers several rows down from him. From where Nick was running, he could see MacCready falter for one second before continuing to sprint.

Bleachers are gonna run out, soon.

“Not a chance, Synth Dick-tective!” the younger man called over his shoulder. “Not a chance!”

And then there was Piper.

The investigative journalist ran up -seemingly out of nowhere- and collided with Mac from his right, blind-siding him in a tackle to the ground.

Nick could have thrown back his head and laughed; he had not been expecting that. From up ahead, he could hear the pair scrambling together as each wrestled for the advantage. The detective hurried up the stairs to reach the same level the two were on. While Mac tried desperately to untangle himself and sprint away, Piper had pinned the man beneath her by grabbing his leg so that he fell to the ground as he tried to escape. It was a childish maneuver, to be sure, but it was amazingly effective.

“D-what are you -?! Get off me!” Mac yelled, trying to scramble out of Piper’s grasp. The reporter was pretty much sitting on him, her hands pinning his wrists behind his back as she used every ounce of her power to keep him down.

“You stay right there, mister!” she yelled, her voice shrill with adrenaline, and her hat lost from her own pursuit. “You’re gonna stay right here until Nicky sets you straight!”

Nick neared them, scrambling with his pockets as he frantically fished out his handcuffs, “Thank you, Piper,” the synth said, kneeling down to cuff the merc’s wrists together. As soon as they were attached, Nick clapped his hand onto Piper’s shoulder, signaling to her that it was alright for her to let go.

The reporter stood to her feet, panting, and nodded. “Yeah, sure thing, Nick. Easy peasy.”

Nick kept a firm grip on the man’s forearm beneath him, and moved his other hand to his shoulder to help lift him up. The movements were familiar, giving him a sense of deja-vu as he briefly saw from the old Nick Valentine’s eyes, lifting criminals to their feet after nailing a case. The vision was thankfully brief, though, and Nick was quickly placed back into his own mind.

“Piper,” Nick said. “Pat him down. Get any more of his weapons and see if he has anything else on him.”

“You got it, Nick,” she said at the same time MacCready snarled Don’t you dare touch me!

Piper glanced up towards Nick, her hazel green eyes holding a bit of wary and questioning. “You got him?”

Nick jutted his chin out in a nod. “I got him,” he reassured.

Piper approached the merc, patting down the sides of his coat and feeling for any weapons. She pulled out a few frags, a .44 scope, and a few bags that jangled with the familiar sound of caps. The reporter tossed these items down to the side away from MacCready, then moved aside his coat to reach for the interior pockets. She withdrew a hard container with a lid, something that was often reserved for folks’ cap stash. The reporter shook it, but no sound resounded from the tin. Curious, the reporter lifted the lid, and Nick both felt and heard the merc sigh in a resigned and frustrated sort of way.

Nick barely had time to process what could possibly be in the tin when he heard Piper’s sudden and startled gasp, her hand flying to her heart in surprise. Her mouth gaped open, and at Nick’s wordless question, she tilted the tin down for the detective to see inside.

The tin was filled to the brim with coal black feathers.

To anyone who might be from outside the Commonwealth, it meant nothing, but to the three standing there, it meant everything.

“Quite a collection you’ve got there,” Nick growled, adjusting his grip on the mercenary to hold him closer. “Hope you don’t mind us taking you down for a little talk as to what you’re doing with all these feathers. Calling cards for your latest kill, I’m sure.”

“I ain’t telling you sh- crap, man!” Mac snapped, and kicked his feet back as he tried to imbalance the detective. Nick adjusted his grip accordingly, and he led the merc down towards the balcony.

“Easy goes there, fella. Don’t worry, we’ll get you sorted out,” Nick muttered, keeping his hold firm and tight, despite the way MacCready jerked his arms and tried to pull out of the Detective’s grasp. Nick looked over his shoulder at Piper, and saw that she was fast on his heels. “Comin’ with, Piper?”

“You bet,” she said, and though the young woman was winded, Nick knew that there was no way she would be left out of something this interesting and this big, not in her home city.

Nick grunted.

An honest-to-God Angel associate in our hold. Heh. Who would have thought?

--------------------------------------

Detective Nick Valentine stood in front of the cell at the Security Dugout, a burning cigarette held between two fingers in his right hand as he silently regarded the mercenary sitting on the rickety wooden bench. The mercenary’s hat was turned down and covered his face. His shoulders were hunched over, and he slouched against the wall with his feet resting flat on the ground.

A couple of Diamond City security guards stood at Nick’s side, though Piper was the closest. The reporter held a cigarette in her hand as well, having shared one with the detective. Her eyebrows were furrowed over green hazel eyes, and she sighed in resignation, but said nothing.

The pair of them had a heck of a time trying to get the mercenary into his cell. Just getting to the jail itself was a bit of a spectacle. Folks from the city had crowded around the body of the victim, and Nick had watched as Nora rose from her crouch, hands coated in blood from trying to save whoever was attacked. Just one questioning gaze from Nick as he shoved the merc forward told him all he needed to know when he met Nora’s eyes. She shook her head slowly back and forth, and looked away.

The victim was dead.

Nick didn’t bother trying to get a glimpse of who was shot; he knew that news would reach him eventually, and besides, he had other fish to fry right now.

“Piper,” Nick said softly. “Who was the person he shot?”

The reporter scrunched her eyebrows. “Umm, her name was Mia, one of the residents here. New.”

Nick grunted. “What do we know about her?”

Piper frowned, and paused in her thoughts before speaking. “She has a husband. Someone named Wilson?”

Nick nodded, putting the pieces together as quick as his mind could place them. “I’m going to need to talk to him. Do you know where he is?” Valentine turned his head quick toward Piper, his eyes searching.

Piper nodded curtly after a second of scrambling for her words. “Uh, yeah, I – I think I saw him in the market.”

“Go get him for me; bring him back here.” Nick took a breath of his cigarette, and exhaled it slowly.

At the end of his words, Piper started to set out, but Nick suddenly caught his words as he spun back to the reporter. “Hey! Could you also grab Nora for me?”

Piper’s eyebrows knit together for one quick moment, as if confused, but nodded. “Sure. Be right back.” And she was gone.

Nick didn’t watch her go, and instead turned his intense stare back at the mercenary-turned-assassin, who carefully tilted his chin up to regard the synth. For a beat, Nick waited for the young man to say something, feeling like he would, but whatever might have been on the tip of the merc’s tongue, it was gone.

The detective passed more smoke from his mechanical lungs with a smooth and easy breath. “How about we start at the beginning, kid?” With one hand, Nick reached for a chair set up against the wall, and brought it close to the iron bars separating him from the killer. Nick leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Why did you kill her?”

Indignantly, Mac jut his chin out as he clenched his jaw, the fire again burning bright in his eyes. He refused to say anything.

Nick sighed. “You’re gonna be in here for a while if you don’t cooperate, kid. We know you’re with the Angels – that tin full of feathers was pretty damning, and I doubt you’re collecting feathers just for the fun of it. And these Diamond City types ain’t so forgiving, not when it concerns their security in their own home, no less. But I’ll be able to get you off easy if you give us some information.”

MacCready kept his steely resolve, but he spat a thick globule of spit down at the iron bars, close to hitting Nick’s old shoes. “I ain’t telling you nothing, dude.”

Nick grunted. “Even if you hang for it?”

The assassin got comfortable, leaning back against the wall as he assumed a posture that almost looked casual, meeting Valentine’s golden optics. A smug smirk lilted up the side of his face. “I won’t hang for it.”

The laissez-faire attitude irked the detective, upset that the kid wouldn’t take something like this seriously. Nick ground his teeth in irritation, a habit shadowed from the old Nick Valentine. “This is some serious stuff, Mac. Criminals have been hung for far less. City on edge, Mayor assassinated not that long ago by the very thug you work for, the Archangel. What makes you so confident the city won’t string you up?”

“They’ll come for me,” Mac said, voice hardening, losing some of its playfulness. Nick heard convicted truth in the young man’s voice. There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his heart or his mind that someone wouldn’t come for him. Just one mention of the Archangel, and the merc went cold.

Nick tried to keep his voice loose and curious rather than tight and restrained. “Who?”

Nick didn’t have enough charm to sway the merc, and the man again pressed his lips tight together. Valentine leaned back in his chair, trying to mirror MacCready’s posture in an attempt of socially connecting to him, passively. “Your group?” A beat of silence, and Nick guessed again, watching for any tick that revealed the truth. “Your leader?”

If he were human, Nick wouldn’t have seen it, but he wasn’t, so he saw the tightening of MacCready’s jaws. Just oh-so-carefully, his jaw stiffened with hardened resolve. Nick’s eyes glinted, and he stretched one leg far out in front of him, mimicking the casual posture. “You think your leader is going to come get you? You? One of his pawns?”

Mac’s glare deepened, and Nick knew without a doubt that the young man before him felt nothing but contempt for the synth detective.

Nick sighed, and straightened his back where he sat, looking down at the mercenary. “Let me tell you something, Mac. I may not have been around Pre-War, at least not in person, but I’ve got some memories clunking around in this old hard-drive. Memories of how crime bosses operate, how they view the men under them.” Nick leveled the mercenary with a steady stare. “Yours is no different. Whatever he’s told you, whether you’re important, if you’re special, he’s lying. You’re just another pawn, out doing his work for table scraps while he eats like a king.” Nick pursed his mouth and delivered the final nail in the coffin. “You’re just another hired gun to him.”

Something flashed in MacCready’s eyes. Something hot, fiery, and protective. “She’s not like that!” he snapped.

Nick lifted his head, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. She. God, after years of rumors floating around the Commonwealth, he had an honest-to-God lead on the actual leader of the Angels. The Archangel.

And she was a woman.

Well, that eliminates half the populace of the ‘Wealth, at least. Now just to figure out who she is.

Nick sat back a little. “Oh really? You don’t think she’ll dump you first chance, or kill you more like when she hears you’ve been captured? You have intimate information on your group, Mac. Information that she can’t let out. Why would she orchestrate a way to save you?”

“She’s not like that, man!” MacCready insisted almost childishly. “She wouldn’t do that to us.”

Nick considered the young man and tilted his chin up with an air of confidence. “Oh yeah?” he led, making his voice casual in disbelief, but challenging. “How so?”

“I just do,” Mac insisted, crossing his arms. After a beat of consideration, he added cryptically. “She’s done things for me, done things and helped me in a way no one else ever did.”

Valentine hummed thoughtfully. “Is that so?” he pushed. “Like what?”

MacCready shifted a bit uncomfortably, and bowed his head when he admit. “She saved my son’s life.”

The pieces fell into place. Nick nodded, “Aha,” he said. “So now you have this debt you can’t pay off to her. An unlisted price she just keeps building up, saying that one day you’ll ‘pay off your debt.’” Nick spoke knowingly, experience in the detective business leading him to the truth. “But soon years pass and before you know it, you’ve wasted your whole life trying to pay off a debt you never even had.”

Mac looked at Nick with an expression that was nothing less than pure disdain. “Everything you just said was wrong,” he corrected shortly. “When she saved my son’s life, she didn’t ask for anything.”

Nick frowned, annoyed at being contraindicated. “Well, maybe not caps, sure, but your allegiance to serve her at her every beck and call is quite a price to pay, don’t you think?”

MacCready glared at the detective. He shook his head. “Nah, man. She didn’t ask for anything. She wanted to help me, and my son.” Nick felt his whole body go completely still. “Not caps, not my loyalty, not anything. She saved my son’s life and helped me out of my situation, because for her, it was the right thing to do.” Mac looked indignantly at Nick. “And I get paid by her for these hits. Man, for her, I would do it for free, but she makes sure I get paid because she knows I have a son and a family to provide for.”

The assassin offered an off-handed shrug. “I know that once she hears about my capture, she’ll move Heaven and Earth to make sure I get out okay. Because that’s just who she is.”

A leader of the largest crime organization the ‘Wealth has ever known, and she has some kind of hero complex. The detail Mac mentioned though, that the woman knew he needed to provide for his child.. the Archangel must have a child, or had one in the past, to make sure one of their assassins was paid. Something for him to keep in mind as the case continued to unravel.

Nick didn’t know whether to feel awed or disgusted, because there just had to be a way this poor man was being manipulated. Nick felt like he was grasping at straws to get this kid to understand what was really happening. “Mac,” he said. “This woman benefits from your skills, in exchange for your connection to her. Don’t you see how manipulative that is?”

Mac had turned his gaze from Valentine, but he frowned when the detective said this, and scoffed. “Man, have you never had a friend before?”

Nick had no reason to, but he quickly felt ashamed by the mercenary’s accusation. “Of course I have,” he said in defense of himself. “But what she’s doing-”

“Is fine,” Mac finished for him. “I know she would do the same thing for me if I asked her. And she has. She’s risked her life countless times for me without asking for anything in return, and I’d do the same for her.” His voice was wistful near the end, and Nick felt like something was finally making sense.

“You love her,” the synth concluded.

Mac made a face, and Nick thought he could see an actual blush rising over the man’s stubble. “Ew! Well, I mean, like – yeah – sure. I love her, but, not in the romantic way or anything. But, we’re best friends. And you love your best friends, right?”

Nick knew the man was telling the truth, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating or infuriating. This woman had to be some kind of sick psychopath, a charmer with words who could sway anyone to her side with a few choice phrases if she could convince this mercenary, one of her underlings that they were best friends. “Sure,” he allowed stiffly. “But how do you know she’s not just using you? Playing you for a fool with some hidden agenda?”

Mac scoffed again, and that smug smirk found its way back up his mouth. He shook his head, and looked to the side of his cell. “Man, you just don’t get it,” was all he said.

The detective ground his teeth together. It’s no use, he concluded. The man obviously idolizes her. If given the choice, there’s no doubt he’d take everything he knows with him to the grave rather than betray this woman. Nick stared ahead thoughtfully. He might give away some information without realizing it, though. Best to come to conclusions later. Get all the information first, Valentine.

Nick lifted his head and attention back to the mercenary, but he stopped the when he heard the sound of the door to security opening. The synth turned his head, but he already knew who was coming when he recognized the pattern of the approaching steps.

“Detective,” Nora acknowledged him professionally as she approached, her voice low and smoky like a carefully guarded secret.

“Detective,” Nick returned in kind, his voice holding a bit of a smile as he regarded the woman he admired. Nick stood to his feet, and noticed as Piper came in behind her with another woman in tow. The victim’s wife. Nick immediately looked the stranger up and down, his eyes narrowed in thought as he scanned for any signs of physical harm.

He was immediately distracted, though, when Nora grabbed the elbow of Nick’s coat and tugged him toward her. “Nick,” she whispered to him. “What did you find out?”

Nick sighed softly and leaned towards Nora. He dropped the volume of his voice. “I’ll fill you in when we get out there, but he hasn’t given me much to go on. He’s resisting a bit.”

“Sorry it took us a while to get here,” Piper added, jumping in. “Nora blends in with a crowd pretty well.”

Nora, in turn, offered a half-smile, but said nothing as she looked curiously to Nick. “Well what did you learn?”

Nick shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well, he’s definitely with the Angels, and he hasn’t told me anything about the group, but we know that whoever leads them is a woman. And she manipulates her companions so that the people who are under her will do as she says.”

“How?” Piper asked, matching Nick’s tone as her voice dropped to a soft whisper.

“Emotional manipulation. This guy seems to think that she actually cares about him. Apparently he owes a big life-debt to her for saving his son. Now she pretends to be his best friend so he’ll do stuff for her at her every beck and call.”

Nora’s face was strangely blank. “He said that?” she asked.

Nick shook his head. “No, he’s basically idolizes whoever this woman is, won’t give her up for anything.” Nick scoffed, and dug into his pocket for a cigarette, his mind a jumble of thoughts. “He’s convinced that this woman is his best friend, that she’d do the same for him if he asked.” Nora ducked her head down, her mouth pressed together in a hard line.

The detective took her glance away as discouragement, and he nudged her arm with one hand. “Hey, chin up. I know the night just got darker, but it’s not over, yet.”

Nora glanced up, and she tried to offer a reassured smile, but her expression looked oddly strained and there was a glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Y-Yeah. Thanks, Nick. We’ll get ‘em.”

Piper offered Nora a comforting side-hug, who returned it in full. “Hey, Blue. It’s all right. It’s been kind of a shaky day around here.”

Nora gave a half-smile in return, and looked over to Nick, her wide-eyed gaze holding him in place. “Nick, would you mind if I gave it a try?”

The detective’s first instinct was a resounding no, but then Nick looked between her and Mac, who had been staring at the group with rapt attention, suddenly looked away as the spotlight turned back on him. The detective narrowed his eyes, and looked to Nora, who returned Nick’s gaze with a certain glint in twin pools of green. “I can do this,” she told him, her voice holding confidence Nick wasn’t sure he felt.

Uncertain, Nick glanced between her and Mac, who again looked away when challenged by another’s stare. Still in thought, Nora nudged Nick with her shoulder, something like determination behind her eyes. “Hey, Valentine,” she called to him, and he felt something like a shudder pass through his circuits and joints when he turned his head at her voice. Her green eyes held him in their light, “You can trust me, partner,” she reassured.

The use of their shared title with each other was enough to sway him, and he gestured with an open hand for her to proceed. “Well alright,” he allowed, and took an unconscious step back. “Have at it. I’ll step in if you need an extra hand.”

Her smile directed at him was thankful, and he watched her intently as she went to take the seat the detective had sat in just a few short moments ago.

Nick couldn’t see her face, but her voice was smiling as she addressed the one behind bars. “MacCready, was it?” Nora asked sweetly. She adjusted herself in the chair with both feet planted on the floor as she looked at the merc curiously. Nora tilted her head carefully to one side.

Mac didn’t take his eyes off her; the young man watched her so intensely Nick almost expected him to jump at her like a wild beast. He didn’t, though, just kept his gaze leveled with her own. A huff of breath escaped him, “Yeah,” he said. He stood to his feet slowly, then slid himself down so he could sit on the ground with the bench digging into his back. The mercenary hadn’t moved his gaze from Nora in the slightest. “What’s it to you?”

Nick couldn’t see Nora’s expression; she leaned forward, her voice carrying the same tone of sweetness. “My name is Nora, MacCready. I’m a detective here at Diamond City. The man you spoke to is Nick Valentine; he’s my partner.”

The mercenary-turned-assassin didn’t dare remove his eyes from Nora, but he smirked and released an unbidden chuckle. “Not sure if ‘man’ is the right word, probably missing a few man pieces.”

At the side, Nick’s chest burned with immediate hurt and indignation. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon of people in the Commonwealth to make fun of Nick, or to make snide remarks about what he really was. Nick liked to think that he had found a way to move past that after so many years of being looked down on and ridiculed for being so out-of-place. It had taken so long for him to find a home, to find a place he could call and claim as his own, but people were so quick to want to take that all away from him. Done in by one slithering insult. A synth had to learn to build walls when put in confrontation with all that.

But this time . . . it felt different. Maybe it was just that the remark was coming from MacCready. Maybe it was the smug look he had on his face when he said it, like he knew how much it could upset Nick, saying it in front of his partner, no less. In front of someone he...

Valentine couldn’t help but glance self-consciously in Nora’s direction, feeling shame for what he was, and what he could never be, as a synth. His palms opened and closed, bouts of anxiety and frustration turning in his gut.

“Do not-” Nora’s voice had dropped and frozen into shards of ice, and Nick turned his head so fast to look at her he was surprised it didn’t spin off, “-ever speak like that to Nick again. Understand?”

Nick’s sensors hadn’t alerted him to a sudden change in pressure or atmosphere of the room, but the detective would have sworn the temperature, at the very least, plummeted.

MacCready swallowed a bit nervously, and glanced down at his feet in submission. “Sorry,” he muttered in Nick’s direction. “I went too far.”

Nick knew that he didn’t have any eyebrows, but the creases along his face that were there to mimic them rose high up along his forehead in surprise. Did. . . did she just?

“Thank you,” Nora said in turn, her voice again soft and sweet. “I appreciate that.” she leaned back a little in the chair, and crossed her leg over the other. “Now,” she started. “If it’s all right, I’d like to have a little talk with you – about the people you work with, and who you work for. I’m going to ask you questions, and I want you to answer them honestly, understand?”

Mac lifted his gaze, and his eyes were again latched right onto her every movement. He gave one short nod of his head. “Understood.”

“Good.” Nora held her hands out in her lap in front of her. “Let’s begin.”

The detective fought to hide the slightest of smirks from his face, and he carefully ducked his head down in a bashful manner.

.

.

.

Nick liked that.

(**)

The interview went better than Nick thought it would go. Nora was a charmer, something the old synth already knew, but it was even more apparent as she swayed the mercenary into giving bits of information through his answers.

“So how do you know if someone is worth killing, by your leader’s standards?” she asked. “If they’re supposed to be people who abuse and hurt, how do you know?”

Mac shrugged off-handedly. “I trust her. She wouldn’t order a hit on someone if they weren’t a person worth killing.”

Nick frowned at that, disapproving of someone who would so willing play judge, jury, and executioner in one go. It wasn’t how the world should work, even in days such as these.

“So, how do you get notification on who your next target is?” Nora asked smoothly. She reached up one hand to brush her hair out of her face.

“Someone usually brings the order to me, where I can find the person and how to identify them.”

Nora was amazing, catching every beat and rhythm of the interrogation, “Who usually brings the hit?” Her foot tapped the dugout floor.

Mac shrugged. “Don’t know. We never exchange names or nothin.”

“Hm; is it the same person every time?” Her foot tapped again in thought, probably impatient for the answers to this case to be revealed. Nick made a mental note to talk to her about controlling any fidgeting when she did another interrogation.

Mac was slower to answer this time, which was explanation enough to Valentine. But the merc did nod his head, and glance away, likely feeling guilty for giving up so much information about his group.

With his hands in his pockets, Nick asked, “What do they look like?” the same time Nora uncrossed her legs and brushed her hand along her hairline again.

Mac glanced away from Nora to look evenly at Nick. “A guy. Bit of a smooth-talker. Wears a padded blue jacket. No hair.”

Nick frowned in thought. Well, at least they had a description on who they could look out for. “How often does this guy check in with a hit? And where does this exchange usually take place?” Nick asked, feeling a bit guilty for hijacking Nora’s interrogation. He would talk to her about it later.

MacCready glanced back at Nora, looking a bit nervous, but Nick kept his eyes fast on Mac. Nora made another movement out of the corners of his eyes, but the mercenary spoke before Nick could question him again. “It- well it varies. I don’t know when I’m gonna get a hit, but it always happens at the Third Rail. That’s where anybody can find me for hire.”

Nick glanced to Nora, who looked to him at the same time, her eyes wide. It didn’t take a detective to know that both were thinking a mile a minute and weaving a plan to catch and bring an end to the Angels.

Nora stood and approached Nick, his name on her lips, “Nick-” she started.

Whatever words the woman was going to say fizzled away on her lips as all present in the room paused upon the sound of shouting and gunfire.

All sitting in the room stared at the door way down the hallway to the closed door of the dugout. A few security guards abandoned the prisoner area to see what all the ruckus was about, leaving Nick and Nora to frown in thought as the shouts began to evolve into terrified screams and even more gunfire.

Nora’s hand brushed the hem of Nick’s sleeve. He glanced to her, and he saw the fear in her eyes. “Nick,” she tried to say again. “What do you-”

“Strong SMASH!”

The door to the Diamond City security HQ crumpled like it was made of nothing more than aluminum foil. Nick startled, and saw from the corner of his eye how Nora’s hand went to hover over the small pistol at her hip. The metal was dented in the center of the door, as if a huge fist had pounded into the material in an effort to gain entry. Nick took one careful step forward, and saw shadows and flicker of movement beyond the light of the door.

A voice growled from the other side. “Human door is weak, but Strong can smash!”

The hinges finally gave way, and the door fell into the hallway, throwing up dust and grime as a large and shadowed monster stepped into the hallway.

Piper was the one to speak first as the words crawled from her throat. “It’s, it’s a-”

“Supermutant!” Nick yelled, and he whipped his pistol from the holster, aiming at the hulking beast.

The ‘mutant growled low in his throat and started running down the hallway, putting his arm up as the bullets pinged and lodged themselves in his flesh. “Mmrgghh-! Mack. Ree. Dee!”

“Get back!” Nick shouted, and grabbed Nora, pulling her back against his chest as the supermutant charged in a full-on run into the bars. The monster used his shoulder as he collided to the iron, and the rods of steel broke like toothpicks under the force.

“Strong!” Mac cried, his voice clearly relieved as he and the others tried shooting at the mutie to bring him down. Nick could hear Mac cry over the shots. “You came for me!”

The mutant grumbled, and bent to pick up Mac with a muscular arm, throwing the mercenary over his shoulder haphazardly. “Mngh, Strong smash. Save small human. Take back to Rocket.”

The bullets might as well have been peas, the good they did against the muscled and armored super-mutant. The beast didn’t even give them a second chance as he ran back down the way he came, and into the screaming throng of Diamond City.

“Come on!” Nora snarled. “He’s not getting away!” She grabbed Nick’s arm, dragging him up along with her as the two didn’t hesitate to pursue the supermutant and their only suspect.

Outside, the sun was setting, casting the whole world in an orange-hue, reminding Nick briefly of that orange-colored sky song, whatever it was.

The thought was brief, though, as he ran after Nora, taking the steps up the stadium in long strides as they fled past security guards and terrified citizens. Soon they were past the security gate and running after the hulking supermutant away from the safety of the Great Green Jewel.

The two detectives raced along each other, but it was Nora’s flesh and blood that had her inching slowly ahead of Nick’s mechanical gears and circuits. Nick glanced at her to see her arms pumping fast at her sides in rhythm with her feet smacking against the pavement, her face red with exertion.

A shot sounded out, and a bullet embedded into the pavement at their feet.

Nick’s reaction was immediate and protective as his feet skidded out in front of him. Reflexively, his arm snapped out to grab Nora and keep her from going any further.

She wasn’t expecting his movement, because her whole body jerked to a stop as his metallic hand grasped her wrist like a vice. An unbidden cry escaped her lips, and she looked back at Nick with an accusatory and hurt gleam in her eyes. Guilt immediately passed through his body, but the detective refused to let her run blindly into danger. “We’re fish in a barrel here, doll. We go any further and they’ll shoot us where we stand.”

Something shone in the grass-green of her eyes. Nick couldn’t tell what it was, but it caused his sensors to feel an unfamiliar warmth he wasn’t accustomed to experiencing. Perhaps it was respect with a hint of awe. Nora nodded once, “All right,” she agreed, glanced down at his skeletal hand about her wrist, then back up to his glowing yellow eyes.

Nick recognized a familiar flash as his vision suddenly shifted, and instead of a hand of metal, one of flesh held the soft and dainty hand of Jenny. He gazed at their hands interlocked, hers soft and creamy like ivory, his rough and tanned. Nick looked up slowly, and hurt passed through him hot and burning when he saw Jenny’s long blonde hair done up in a victory roll, her baby blue eyes soft and warm and happy and alive as she flashed her pearly teeth at him. “Nick,” she said, her voice as soft as a gentle wind. “You gotta let me go sometime. I’ll be fine. Eddie Winter wouldn’t bother with a little thing like me. I’m just your fiancee. Gotta leave that mob stuff to you big-time cops.”

Nick felt his gears and wires tighten in fear as his human hand stiffened his grip on her. “Jenny, no-” he choked. His voice felt different, and his mind stuttered in fear as he pictured her body on the pavement, shot in the back as crimson blood pooled around her. “You don’t understand. Winter, he’s-”

“Nick,” her voice murmured to him, but it was different, now. Lower-pitched. Filled with concern, but not for her. Concern for him.

“Nick.”

The detective blinked as memories and recognition swam to the surface of his mind.

Nora.

And just like that, the vision was gone. His metal hand was still there, clasped around her wrist, and Jenny’s soft skin was replaced with Nora’s. Her hand was far different than Jenny’s had ever been. The feel and appearance of her palm was rough from the dangers of the Commonwealth, the skin tanned and lined with pale scars after constantly fighting to survive.

Nick looked up sharply, and was grounded in the light green of Nora’s eyes. His partner looked at him in concern, and Nick struggled to recall what exactly had happened leading up to the flashback. He couldn’t remember having one as strong or as long as that in . . . well, at all.

Blue. Jenny’s eyes were blue. Nora’s were green.

“You alright there?” Nora’s voice shook him from his thoughts. “They didn’t get you in the head or anything, did they?”

Nick jerked his hand from her as if he were burned, and held his metal claw close to his chest. “Uh, no. They didn’t get me.” Memories of the supermutant and MacCready came flooding back to him, and he looked up the street to the sunset where the Angels had certainly fled. In a motion of habit, the synth pressed his good hand up against his forehead, like he suffered from a headache. “How- how long was I out?”

Nora’s response took a moment before she finally relented. “A few good seconds. You were just gone, staring into space.”

Damn. Well they’re definitely gone by now. I can’t believe I let myself check out like that.

Nick felt Nora place a hand along his arm so she could come around and stand in front of him. The detective flinched away from her touch reflexively, causing Nora to rescind her hand, looking guilty. She let her hand rest along her side. “What happened there, Nick?” she said.

The synth looked down, incapable of meeting her gaze out of guilt. “Sorry, doll. I – ah – I had a bit of a flashback from the Old Nick’s memories. Took me out longer than I thought it would.”

She was quiet for a moment. “These flashbacks happen . . . a lot?”

Nick shrugged off-handedly, and found his hands going into the pockets of his coat defensively. “Not usually. Seem to be getting stronger and more frequent, as of late.” Will I never be free of that fool detective? What does a synth gotta do to be his own man?

Probably never, a cruel voice whispered in his ear, a voice that sounded a lot like Winter’s. You’ll always be a copy, just a spare for the real Nick Valentine.

Valentine realized that Nora was quiet, and he looked up at her curiously. Her eyebrows were frowning in thought, and her lips sat at a bit of an angle, as if thinking through a case that was particularly difficult to crack. “Do you need to see someone, maybe? I know someone in Goodneighbor who might-”

“It’s not something that can be fixed, doll. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Well if they’re getting worse, we should get you looked at, right? Isn’t that how it works? If we’re out there, and you have a flashback in the middle of a fight, I don’t want-”

Shit, he hadn’t thought of that.

How many times had he and Nora found themselves in a tight spot? Feneuil Hall with all the mutants, that damned Corvega Assembly Plant with the raiders, the Mass Pike Tunnel filled to the brim with ferals . . . what would happen to Nora the next time he became a space cadet and couldn’t come to her call to arms?

“-You’d be in danger,” he heard her say, concern thick in her voice. “And if I’m not with you when you have a flashback, who knows what could happen to you? Who knows when I’d ever find you again if you’re out of commission, and even if I find you, you might be beyond a state of repair and-”

Nora’s babbling of ‘what-if’s’ caused a crescendo of emotion to swell through Valentine’s chest, and something sparked deep in him as he lifted his head to gaze at her with a new light. He hadn’t thought she would be worried about him. Geez, besides Ellie, he couldn’t remember the last time that happened. People in the Commonwealth were often so quick to turn to self-preservation that the worry and concern reserved for others usually got lost in the mix.

But she was worried about him. Concerned and as chastising as a mother hen clucking after her chicks.

The wanderer must have noticed the heart-felt gleam in his eyes, because she paused in her jabbering to stare at him. “What is it?” she asked, and a spark of panic seemed to go through her. “Was it another flashback?”

Nick chuckled at the irony, and pressed his palm up against one closed eye. “No, doll. Just. . .” He laughed quietly again. “You’re sitting there worrying about me, and I’m fretting here worrying what might happen if I can’t help you in time.”

Nora kept still at his words, but as she registered them, her head ducked down, and Valentine could see the small smile tugging at her lips. She laughed softly with him. “I guess we are two peas in a pod.”

“Y’know-” Nick started, and Nora looked up at him with wide and curious eyes. The synth rubbed one of his arms in thought, and looked away self-consciously with the hint of a smile. “I gotta admit. It’s nice having someone out there to watch my back. Been a while since I’ve had that kind of luxury.”

Nora smiled tentatively at him, reminding Nick of a shy schoolgirl talking to her crush and-

Nick shook that thought out of his head fast. This was Nora, not some Caravaner he had bumped in to.

The distracting thought nearly caused Nick to miss what Nora said next.

Her smile was shy, but genuine. “I guess we really are partners now, aren’t we?”

Valentine couldn’t hold back the smile as he beamed at her, and nodded. “I’d say we are. But Nora, more than being a good partner, you-you’ve been a good friend.”

In the way she smiled, there was enough energy there to keep Nick’s batteries going for the next century, but as he gazed at her, all he could see and hear in the back of his mind was Jenny. Jenny with her baby blues and corn yellow hair, with the soft pink lipstick and dress to match.

Nick knew in whatever he had that most closely resembled a soul, that he would never be free of her.

Not unless he found some kind of closure.

“Say, Nora?” he croaked.

In their moments of quiet, Nora herself had turned to glare up at the hillside where the Angels had fled. The frown carved into her expression immediately lightened as he addressed her. “Yeah?”

Might as well lay all his cards on the table. “I was actually wondering if, well, if you wouldn’t mind helping me put some of the old Nick Valentine’s memory to rest. . .”

Of course, being Nora, she accepted.

Chapter Text

“I gotta be honest; I don’t get it, Nick,” she said to him a few days after setting off.

Nick glanced at her, brows lifted curiously. “How so?” he asked. The three holotapes stashed in his deep pockets clacked against each other as the pair of detectives picked their way through the remains of the Commonwealth.

Nora remained quiet for a moment, then knelt to pick the lock of an old tool box for scrap and supplies. “It’s just. . . the whole Nick Valentine thing. I know you owe everything to him, but you’re not him. So, why the personal vendetta against Winter? I mean. I know he was a scumbag that deserves to get what’s coming to him, but it was also over 200 years ago.” The bobby pin she was using to crack the lock broke, and she tossed the remains over her shoulder with an annoyed grunt.

“Nothing, nothing,” Nick rambled, trying not to feel so guilty about lying. “Like I said, I just want to put some of Nick’s old memories to rest. Putting down Winter might be a way to do that. And it’s like you said-” Valentine lifted his eyes to look at her. “Bastard has it coming to him.”

From where she crouched, Nick heard before he saw the lock as Nora broke it. She rummaged around it for a few seconds, and Nick came around to see if she had nabbed anything good. As he did, Nora looked at him over her shoulder, her gaze leveled with his. The look made him pause, the intensity of her gaze startling him for a moment, like a predator about to pounce on unsuspecting prey. When she spoke, her voice was as low and as cool as it ever was. “You don’t have to lie to me, Nick,” she murmured. “If you’re not ready to tell me what it’s really about, you don’t have to. But don’t lie to me, especially if you’re hurting.”

Valentine felt enough shame to look down to avoid her gaze. When she didn’t press him any further, he croaked, “Sorry, doll. I won’t do it again.”

She looked to him again over her shoulder, and Nick spied something hiding behind her gaze. “I never said you had to apologize, Nick.” The wanderer gathered her supplies and stood, moving carefully as to not strain her muscles. “We’ve all got secrets. Just lie better next time.”

That took him aback for a second, and he chuckled, the tension of the moment suddenly relieved at her teasing. “What? Got any skeletons you want to tell me about?” he asked.

Nora hummed idly, and adjusted the backpack while she coincidentally chose to avoid his eyes. “Mm. Not today.”

Oh. She was serious.

“Okay!” Nora declared, looking to Nick seriously as she started selecting landmarks on her Pip-boy. “There are a few police stations I’ve passed by but haven’t investigated. I’m sure we’ll find some clues there, if not more holo-tapes that will lead us to Winter.”

Nick blinked in a very human way that belayed surprise as he glanced at his partner. “You- we’re gonna go looking for all of them? Right now?”

She nodded, studiously looking at her small map on the glowing green screen. “Mm-hm. Priority number one right now.”

The detective thought of her laundry list of things she still had to do for other people, of settlers she had to appease, buildings she needed to clear of hostiles.

Malcolm Latimer’s case and his dead son.

Nick couldn’t ask her outright on why she would choose to help him, so instead, he thought out loud. “Certainly making it a big deal, putting aside everything else on your to-do list.”

The statement seemed to startle Nora like an electric shock, and she stuttered a bit in her movements as she turned to look back at Nick. Confusion was plain across her face for one hot second, but was then replaced with quiet and soft understanding. “Of course it’s a big deal, Nick.” Her gentle smile was one that could have started wars, or one that might have stopped the mechanics of his gears and circuits. “It’s important to you.” She blinked, and her warm smile grew. “So it’s important to me.”

The detective felt like his turning and rotating parts just might have stopped when she said that. At the very least, his breath caught in a very non-synth way, his mind uncertain in how he was supposed to respond to her.

At his silence, she went on with a more serious frown. “Besides. If you’ve got something that puts yourself at risk for getting hurt, I want us to get it resolved as soon as possible.” She looked to him out of the corner of his eye. “As long as that’s fine with you, Nick.”

Though the synth couldn’t recall wanting to, a shy grin slid up his face. “It is. That – that’s fine. That means a lot to me, doll. Thank you.”

Her returning smirk was off-handed, but her tone was sincere. “Well you mean a lot to me, Nick.”

God, what did she mean by that?

Nick cleared his throat bashfully, coughing into his palm as he looked away to intentionally miss the -dare he say flirting?- smile that lined her face. “Well, uh. Ready to get a move on?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s head out.”

“Well alright.”

(**)

The hunt for Eddie’s tapes took the pair of them all across the Commonwealth. From water-logged stations in the east to abandoned buildings that scraped the sky. Personally, Nick preferred the small station right next to Diamond City. A couple of radroaches were nothing compared to what they needed to face for the last tape.

“Quincy,” he acknowledged somberly as he looked over Nora’s shoulder to read her map. “That’s Gunner territory.”

Nora grunted at his side, her brows furrowed in thought, but her voice filled with confidence. “So I’ve heard. I’m not too worried, though.”

Of course she wasn’t. Nora didn’t allow herself to be afraid of anyone or anything. But still, she should know what they would be walking into.

“It’s a whole town of Gunners, Nor,” he reinforced, using the shorter nickname he had picked up along their travels. “This ain’t their usual set-up. Haven’t been there myself in years, but I know this HQ is where they kicked out the Minutemen. They’ll be armored to the teeth.”

Nora’s voice was cavalier and teasing, “If you’re scared, you don’t have to go. I can go get John.”

Usually their banter would amuse him, but he wanted to make sure his point was across, much as that comment about fetching Hancock left him bristling. “It’s not about being afraid, it’s about being prepared for what you’re gonna come up against. It’s about recognizing the signs when they’re right in front of you.”

Nick didn’t realize it immediately, but noticed that he was starting to raise his voice. The synth paused, and took a deep breath before saying in a calmer tone. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, doll. The Commonwealth has a trove of people who have gone up against the gunners and never returned. I don’t want you to be another one.”

Touched by his sympathy, Nora reached out and brushed her hand softly along his arm, encouraging him to tilt his head to look at her. He could have melted at her smile, but instead remained frozen and stiff as her hand slid down his arm to briefly hold his synthetic hand.

As a friend, Nick told himself. As a partner and a friend. That’s all.

“You’re sweet, Nick,” she murmured quietly in that other-worldly way of hers. “Thank you for worrying about me. And I do take it all seriously, I promise.”

Nick sighed in that resigned way. “I know you do, doll. I just worry; you know me. I know this isn’t your first rodeo and knowing you, you’ve probably gone up against worst foes than some gunners.” He chuckled dryly. “I just . . . I don’t want any of your adventures to become your last one.”

Nora sighed softly. “Oh Nick,” she said, and took one smooth step towards him so she could wrap her arms around his waist in a light and soothing hug. Didn’t take much convincing for Nick after that to wrap his arms around her shoulder, holding her to him like his arms were some kind of armor that could protect her.

She fit comfortably in his embrace, just short enough so that he could press his chin and face against the crown of her hair. “You’re not gonna lose me,” she said quietly. “Not anytime soon.”

They remained in that comfortable hold between partners for a few moments, and Nora’s voice broke the quiet between them first when she said. “You’re nervous about finding the last tape belonging to Winter.” Not even a question. A statement of truth. She knew.

God, she can read me like a book. Nick released a shuddering breath of air. “Yeah,” he admit. “I-uh. I want to see him brought to justice more than anything, but. . . I’m. . . still terrified.”

“About what?” she murmured, and Nick had to strain to her her.

His arms squeezed involuntary against her for comfort, as if trying to bring her closer. “Terrified he won’t be there, terrified he’s already rotted away, or that we followed the wrong trail, or picked up the wrong clues.”

Nora grunted in quiet agreement, and returned his comforting squeeze against his back. “You’ve got me, Nick,” she reminded him. “I’m your partner, and I’m going to be there with you for every step. You’ve got nothing to worry about with me at your side.”

Where does she get that kind of confidence?

From the corner of his eye, he saw her tilt her chin towards him at the same time her hands slid around to his chest. He moved his head to find himself again caught in her eyes, and didn’t know what to do as she stepped up on her toes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek with one hand resting on the other side of his face.

Her ever-present smile was soft, gentle, understanding, and maybe a little sad, but Nick couldn’t ignore the swooping feeling that accompanied the kiss, the sparks that flew from his internal processor all the way down to his mechanical fingertips. Embarrassingly, he thought he could hear his fans spinning at a faster and louder speed, and almost wished he was of flesh and blood so he could just blush in solitary shame for his reaction.

Nora looked like she wanted to say something as she gazed up into his yellow optic eyes. Her mouth worried at her lip in the way it did when she was anxious and needed to say something important.

Nick feared what that may be.

“Nick. . .”

He stepped back from her in one smooth movement. He didn’t say anything, but that one foot of distance between them said plenty.

Nick stared silently at Nora, and he tried desperately to push aside the thought that there may be hurt in those bright green eyes. “Time to get a move on?” he forced out.

Thankfully, Nora chose not to push Nick, and she nodded with a smile that was definitely subdued. “Okay, Valentine. You lead the way.”

As they walked, Nick pondered on the moment shared between them, and he wondered at the different possibilities of how it may have turned out, had either of them acted differently.

Did Nora. . . ? Did she. . . ? Nick couldn’t say for sure, he was always a sore loser and a poor gambler when it came to laying his cards on the table. Just one of many reasons why he or the Old Nick had ever gambled. The possible loss just wasn’t worth the risk. Not when it came to matters so personal.

And Nora. . .

Geez. She was the biggest risk of all.

A woman smaller than him with the power to shake and collapse his whole foundation if he gave her the key.

But Nick couldn’t deny that maybe . . . certain thoughts and feelings were beginning to surface after their time spent together. It wouldn’t hurt, would it, to possibly explore and see where something that involved them would go?

But. . . Jenny.

As they walked, Nick looked down, and clenched his fist as he tried to shut down those thoughts of Nora. His mechanical teeth ground together in a habitual manner, and he forced himself to unclench them, if just because he knew it wouldn’t do anything.

No. Not. . . Not yet. I can’t think of Nora like that, yet.

Not until the blue that haunted him would fade to warm and trusting green.

Chapter Text

Nick continued to grow more on edge the closer the pair of detectives got to Quincy. They first saw the Gunner city when they crested a small hill and spotted a set of glowing lights on the horizon, silhouetted with crumbled buildings of a once thriving city.

Nora knelt in a crouch, and Nick mirrored her stance immediately upon cue. He looked down at the area before them, and tried to use his sensors to determine how many baddies there were.

“Not having much luck,” he said out loud as he looked down at the dimly lit streets. “And even if we had a visual on just one of ‘em, who knows how many more lay in those buildings?”

Could be twenty, fifty, or even a hundred for all they knew. And all for one tape. Nick felt uncertainty rise up his gut with fear for his companion, and he turned back to Nora to discern what her take on the place was. Not that it did much good- all he saw was a cold and analytical expression over her face, clearly plotting.

Compelled by a swelling sense of fear, Nick said, “Doll, listen. . .” She didn’t turn her head or her eyes to look at him, but he knew she was listening when she tapped her fingers against her thigh. “We don’t gotta do this, with the stakes so high, I don’t want us losing our lives because of-”

“We’re doing this, Nick,” her voice cut through the dark as well as his voice, lined with that same steely determination. “There’s no doubt in my mind we’ll be able to take this place.”

God with just two of them, though? What chance could they really stand against a whole hive full of-

“Maybe we should have thought this through,” Nick amended. “Brought some back-up, or at least someone on standby in case things go south.”

Nora looked at Nick with a quirked eyebrow. “Didn’t take Diamond City’s Synth Detective to be so flighty.”

Nick forced down his embarrassment from her teasing to chastise with a quiet snarl, “It’s called being prepared, jack-ass. The last thing I wanna see is either of us going in blind and getting gunned down before either of us can get our bearings.” Nick grumbled at her amused smirk. “Just don’t rush in blindly, is all I’m saying.”

At that, Nora’s grin grew cheekier. “You insulting my methods, Detective?” she snarked at him.

Damn her sarcasm, it’d be the ruin of them both. “I’m just saying in this case, we might want to be more-”

“Shh!”

Nora’s hand flashed toward Nick, silencing him as her palm pressed against his mouth. All trace of playing fled her as she looked out at the Quincy ruins again, ears pricked and eyes piercing into the dark with her sharp vision. With the trepidation of a rad-doe calf, she slowly lifted her crouch by a few inches to peer down at the city below for a better view.

“Hear that?” she asked. At Nick’s blank look, she removed her hand from his mouth to grab his palm (the more put-together one) and press it to the ground at their feet. “Listen,” she hissed quietly, though all Nick could focus on was the way her human palm looked against his synthetic hand. “Feel it,” she instructed.

Nick only felt her palm against the back of his hand, her skin softer on the underside as opposed to rough and scarred top. Two sides of the same coin to make the same person in between.

“Anything?” she pressed.

Nick’s mouth and voice failed to produce comprehensible sound as he felt the ground beneath him. “Ah-um-”

There it is.

Very faintly, a tremor rumbled beneath Nick’s fingertips, and his voice cut off, silenced by the sensation. The synth’s eyes widened as he stared at the ground beneath him, and looked up at Nora with understanding. Carefully, he focused his auditory receivers, and heard in the very far-off distance, a rumble that sounded a lot like a roar.

Nick swung his head at Nora, understanding mirrored in both their eyes. “Deathclaw,” he whispered, almost mutely.

Nora nodded, grinned, and unpacked her sniper rifle from her back. “There’s your back-up,” she teased. Hefting it up and anchoring the butt to her shoulder, she peered into the scope to search for the gargantuan reptile. “I can’t see it below,” she told him. “But it’s there, no doubt about it.” The Wanderer looked at him with sharp green eyes filled with excitement as she moved her rifle back to it’s place across her back. “Okay, Nick. We’ll do it your way, quietly and stealthy. You just count your lucky stars for a gift from the universe like that.”

The detective released a shuddered sigh, and shook his head in disbelief, “You’re crazy, doll.”

“Oh you love it,” she scoffed, and began sneaking down to the city with Nick hot on her tail. “We go in fast, find the holotape, and get out, okay?” she checked with him.

Nick nodded once, and followed close by, his optics scanning fretfully for any signs of Gunners alerted to their presence.

Nora moved fast, eyes darting around as she did, her sharp eyes on the lookout for hostiles.

By all accounts, the city was empty, at least by Commonwealth standards. Any gunners nearby were fleeing off to the big fight with the Deathclaw and didn’t have the time or attention for two detectives sneaking in. “Think they’ll win?” Nora asked rhetorically. Nick said nothing, and walked alongside her to weave between the dark buildings. They went down Mainstreet, darting from streetlights and sliding along crumbling walls until the police department on the corner was in their sights. Nora stilled, and Nick did the same, his eyes staring at the back of her head as she scanned for hostiles.

“Any sign of ‘em?” Nick asked, leaning forward so he could hear her answer.

Carefully, Nora shook her head. “There’s probably people in there, though. Stay behind me, Nick.”

The detective wasn’t usually one for taking orders, but he nodded. “I’m right behind ya, doll,” he reassured her.

With one hand reaching back to feel for the handle of her machete, Nora crept forward while Nick held up his pistol, the safety off and his finger resting lightly against the trigger.

No one called the alarm as they darted under columns of streetlights to the dark entrance of the building. The detectives scanned the darkness of the room, and Nora started to the back of a desk to begin rummaging through drawers in search of the last holotape.

Spying the staircase, Nick whispered, “I’ll head up this way,” and walked up the creaky stairs as smoothly as his synthetic legs would allow him. What Nick found was a body curled up in a sleeping bag, resting next to an ammo box and a modded assault rifle.

Wishing he had a silenced weapon to take the threat out, Nick walked softly along the creaking wooden panels to a desk lined up against the back wall. Nick imagined his heart would be pounding, the blood rushing his ears if he were still flesh and blood. He imagined what it felt like for his head to pound from the pressure, or if his hands would twitch from being nervous.

But he didn’t.

His limbs remained still and silent as he opened the drawer of the desk, sliding out the aged wood to scan for any holo-tapes.

Nothing.

Ka-chk.

Nick went completely still.

“Hey,” a gruff voice growled. “The hell do you think you’re-”

The sudden sound of sharpened metal against flesh interrupted the gunner’s voice, and his throat bubbled as dying words rasped into nonsense.

It could only be one person.

“Geez, what is this, Nick, amateur hour? When you told me you were a cop, I had hoped you were at least a good cop.”

His breath left him in a soft chuckle, and Nick looked over his shoulder at Nora, who wiped her blade clean along the clothes of the man she’d fallen. She looked in disinterest at the corpse as she patted the body down for any loot, then studied her blade for any signs of damage. Satisfied, she slid it back into its’ sheathe, and Nick called. “I let you have that one.”

“You wish,” she grinned with a laugh in her voice, and made her way carefully over to him. “Good thing I was here to save you again, Valentine. We gonna make this a regular thing?” With a guiding hand on his shoulder, the pair started their way back down the stairs.

Nick was quick to return her banter. “Depends on you, doll. We could make it an official date, do it formally.”

She smiled at him flirtatiously, light dancing in her eyes. “Your place her mine?” she purred.

The detective felt his gears nearly grind to a halt from the depth of her gaze, and he wanted to say something, but his pause was too long. Nora turned away victoriously to open the door that led to the basement. “Another time, then.”

Nick smiled to himself and made his way after her.

He’d have a heckuva time keeping up with this one.

(**)

The downstairs of the police department was empty, save for one still-functioning Protectron. As soon as she spied it, Nora didn’t waste any time and made a direct beeline for it, abandoning her crouched position as she straightened her spine. When she got to the terminal, her fingers moved fast across the keyboard to hack into the system. “Might as well activate it for some of that back-up,” she said to Nick.

Nick watched from behindhow deftly she typed at the keys, and found himself offering, “Let me know if you want any help with that-” ding! He faltered on his words, somehow always surprised by her wits. “Oh- you got it.”

“Sorry, Nick,” she apologized. “I’m going as fast as I can.”

“No rush,” he said gracefully, trying to hide how anxious and fidgety he was. They were so close to Winter. So close. Just one last clue. One last holo-tape, then they could go and get rid of that sick sonofa-

“The tape should be in one of these lockers,” she said promptly, interrupting the synth’s thoughts. Nick looked at her sharply, then spun quickly as he looked at the lockers behind them.

They had walked past them?!

Nora giving him such relevant information was surely an invitation to look for it, but regardless, he looked back to her for confirmation, something wild in his eyes. The woman watched him quietly, then reached out to place her small hand lightly along his bicep. “You should get it, Nick. It’s the last one.”

He looked at her, marveled, heart lodged thick in his throat, then stepped toward the lockers.

The small, bright-orange-and-white tape sat on an open shelf in one of the lockers. Somehow, miraculously, after 200 years, it was left untouched and unaltered by intruders of the station. Processors in Nick’s hard drive recognized the emotions sparking through his wires, causing his voice to mimic being choked up by tears. “A-After all this time, it’s still here,” he rasped, and grabbed the tape with his deteriorated right hand. He looked at it for one moment, flipped it over for the number on the back, and bent his head as the thumb and forefinger of his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. His mechanical breaths came out as shuddering sobs, though he had no tears to shed, and no outlet for the rising emotions he felt in his core.

Comforting arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and Nora pressed her head against his back. “Hey Valentine,” she murmured softly. “You doing all right?”

“Sorry, yeah,” he replied, his voice shaking with emotions as he looked at the tape in his hand. “Just. . . I just can’t believe it. After all this time. We’re gonna do it.”

Nora was quiet behind him, and Nick knew she was putting the pieces together as any good detective would. “You got anything you want to tell me, Detective?”

It wasn’t a pry, just a question. Beneath the words she uttered, she was asking if he was ready to talk about his past, about Old Nick’s past.

Nick released another sigh that shook when it left his body as he tilted his head back, and rested his hand along her hers pressed up against his abdomen. “Not now, doll. But . . . later. When we’ve got out of here and found a good place to rest.”

She tightened her embrace around him in one more reassuring squeeze, one that told him I’m here for you, and he was struck by the genuine comfort it offered him.

Nora’s arms released him, and as Nick relaxed, he turned to offer her a reassuring and grateful smile. “All right doll. Ready to get a move on?”

“Just say the word,” she told him, and reached back with one deft hand to grab the machete strung across her back.

Nick pocketed the holo-tape, and went to retrieve the pistol at his hip. “Where we headed now?”

That crazy woman grinned at him, and Nick knew with dread what Nora was going to say before the words even got out. “We’re gonna take back Quincy.”

Astounded, Nick shook his head, resigned. “Of course we are.”

(**)

It took only an hour or so for the pair to wipe out what was left of the disorganized gunners. The Deathclaw attack had certainly thrown them off their rhythm, and Nora took the streets like she was born to do it. The gunners didn’t have a chance against her as she snuck behind them, took their lives with one swing of her blade, then disappeared into the darkness to pursue her next target.

The biggest challenge were the fortified raiders up on the remains of the freeway. In the end, it wasn’t impossible to get to them and kill them, just difficult.

Nick made it a point to stick close to Nora during battles like these. Hadn’t taken him long after traveling with her for him to realize that when she got into the right mindset for a fight, she was there. Her blade swung back and forth swiftly with deadly accuracy at her intended target. Her opponents never had a chance against her. As soon as one fell, she would be off to the next one, a kind of fire in her eyes, a bloodlust for evening the odds for the good people of the Commonwealth.

When the last Gunner was finally down, Nora looked around alertly for any more. Her sharp gaze turned to Nick. “Are we good?”

“Haven’t heard or seen any of them around. If there are any survivors, they’ve probably flown the coop.”

With a sigh, made in an effort to catch her breath, Nora released the pent up air in her lungs, and sheathed her weapon. “Good, good. I hope there are survivors; they’ll warn other Gunners to stay away from this place. When there are enough people, we might be able to reclaim the scattered city as a settlement.”

. . . Wow she was ambitious.

“You’re amazing,” Nick couldn’t help but say. Nora looked up at him, a question in her eyes. Nick supplemented. “Most folks out here wouldn’t bat an eyelash to help someone take out the trash, let alone willingly clear out an area of hostiles as a possible settlement and ask for nothing inreturn.” The detective gazed at her reverently as the dark clouds above began to drip with rain. His glowing eyes caught the shattered moonlight that broke through the clouds, and neither of them could look away from the other. “You’re something else, doll.”

It was only because of Nick’s sensitive optics that he saw the way Nora’s breath caught by his compliment, and she moved her hand to brush the hair along her face to it’s place behind her ear. Her smile was shy, bashful as she ducked her head. “You’re too much, Nick,” she said, her eyes warm. “We both know you’d do the exact same thing. And if anything, you are, after helping me so much while we’ve been out here.”

Nick shook his head, not wanting to rob her of any achievements she’d accomplished. “It’s all you, doll. I never would have attempted something like this on my own. But I know you would, even if you had no one with you; I know you would move heaven and earth to help people in any way you could.”

She lifted her gaze to him, grateful, and Nick caught how she tangled her hands together in a nervous manner. “Thanks, Nick. Truly.”

He smiled warmly at her, as warm as a cold synth body could be, and relaxed his expression when she heaved a giant yawn from her assuredly tired body. “Maybe time for a rest?” he led.

“Maybe,” she agreed on her yawn, but the way she rubbed at her eyes told Nick she would definitely be sleeping tonight. Thank god. Girl doesn’t sleep nearly often enough… “What are the choices today?” she asked.

“Hm, for your consideration,” Nick started jokingly, as if there were real options to consider. “We have . . . a sleeping bag covered in blood,” he gestured to it with one hand, doing his best TV-personality voice, “or a mattress in this corner with questionable stains.”

Nora made a face. “I think I’ll pass.” She yawned, and stretched her sore limbs out again, grunting in satisfaction when her joints popped. “What do you think is the nearest place we can rest that’s actually, I don’t know. . . sanitary?”

Nick chuckled, “Get yourself a time-machine and that might suit your needs, but I don’t think those are readily available in the ‘Wealth.”

Nora paused, like she was considering what he had said, then snorted, and began to laugh in exhausted giggles, her hands pressed up against her stomach. Valentine watched her curiously, the remains of one brow lifted as he watched her bend over laughing, a smile splitting her face as she wiped her hand along her eye, trying to catch her breathing. “Oh, Nick,” she sighed. “You make me laugh.”

Her partner looked at her in actual concern, now. “Doll, when was the last time you got some sleep?”

His companion’s response was a bit hesitant, and she swung her pack down to rifle through her supplies and discard whatever wasn’t needed. “It’s – it’s been a while,” she admit.

Nick grunted wordlessly at her confession. He had noticed how Nora would often push herself to the physical limit when it came to sleep, would just collapse, sleep undisturbed for 16 hours, and then pick herself back up again to head out.

It may have been over a hundred years since Nick was ever human, but, such a method of sleeping did not sound like a healthy way to go.

“We’re finding a place to sleep for you here, Nora.”

“But Eddie Winter-”

“Will be wherever he is for one more night. And besides, you need to be in tip top shape before we take him down, right?”

She looked unconvinced, and unwilling to go back to sleep as she stared into the distance away from him.

Nick wondered if it was a safety thing. Maybe she didn’t feel safe going to sleep. Maybe her family was killed in the night while she slept. Maybe she had nightmares.

Nick grunted softly, and reached a hand out to rest it along her shoulder. “Nora,” he called her name as gently as she often called his. “I’ll be right here with you. You’ve got nothing to worry about with me watching over you. After all-” he smirked, “if I’m ever going to pay you back for saving me all those times, I better get started, right?”

“Yeah you do,” she amended, the touch of a smile finally returning to her face.

“Now c’mon,” he beckoned, and his hand slipped down to lightly brush the small of her back as he guided them to the way off the freeway. “I know we passed a church while clearing this place out. Maybe there’s a better place to lay your sleeping mat there.”

(**)

In the old Quincy church, Nick watched as Nora unrolled her sleeping bag and set it on a patch of floor that wasn’t totally drenched from the years of being exposed to the elements. The pair had set up in the balcony of the old sanctuary against a wall and away from the railing where prying eyes wouldn’t be able to see them if they walked in. Nick stood patiently with his hands in his pockets, watchful as Nora went through her bedtime routine. It was different tonight, though. Her muscles seemed to sag and give out a little too much, and she kept yawning.

“How long has it been, Nora?” his eyes glowed beneath the brim of his fedora as he lifted his head to look at her.

Normally she would look at him teasingly at being told what to do, but tonight she just looked at him like she was embarrassed, and yawned again, covering her mouth with one hand. “At least 24 hours,” she admit begrudgingly. When she toed her boots off with her feet, that’s when Nick knew she was planning on getting more than just three hours of sleep.

Valentine sighed heavily. Nora clambered into her bedroll and got as comfortable as she could. When she reached an arm out to pat the ground next to her head, Nick approached dutifully. “You gotta take better care of yourself, doll,” he reprimanded gently, his back pressedto the wall so he could slide down and sit alongside her. The synth adjusted his posture for the most comfort, settling to keep both legs extended from his body. He chose to keep his hat on, the fedora tilted back so the attentive detective could keep a better eye out for hostiles. His hands rested along his abdomen, fingers locking together.

Nora shifted her position so the top of her head brushed the side of his thigh. She used a blue padded winter jacket as a makeshift pillow, and pulled the edges of the sleeping bag as far as it could up to her face. “Whatever you say, Nick,” she mumbled, her voice already crowded with sleep.

Nick wiggled just the slightest as he let himself relax, quieting all systems down so he could hear the way her breathing eased as she lulled off to sleep. The detective felt his mind begin to wander, but startled when Nora shifted and tried to lift her head to look at him. “Nick. . .” her exhausted voice mumbled, already heavy with oncoming sleep.

“What is it, doll?” he asked, and he peered at her curiously.

“You didn’t get to tell me – about… with the tape. Are you okay?”

The detective tried to quiet his sigh. “I’m fine, doll.”

A lie. They both knew it.

Nora remained silent. After a second of thinking, there was a shuffle of fabric, and her arm weaseled out so her hand poked from the sleeping bag. She reached up just enough so her fingers could lightly touch Nick’s thigh, offering a small amount of comfort to the old synth. “No lying, Valentine,” she chided.

A chuckle and a bit of a sigh escaped him. “Can’t hide anything from you, doll.”

“Not a thing.” There was a smile in her voice. “These ears are tuned in to FM Liar radio, and you’re coming in loud and clear.”

Nick thought she definitely needed some sleep.

“I’ll be fine later, doll. You just rest,” he tried to offer instead.

Nora yawned. “You’re anxious about finishing Winter’s End.”

Nick made a face, one of hesitancy. His brows arched in thought, and he clenched his hands together more firmly. “ . . . Yeah,” he finally voiced aloud. But it wasn’t just anxiety about taking down Winter, it was the anticipation. After a hundred years of being haunted by the Old Nick, perhaps now he would be able to bury the memory of the old detective and put the guy to rest. He could forget Jenny, forget the love that poor idiot had for her, and bury it. Maybe focus on new things, for once.

“We’ll pull through, Nick,” Nora mumbled, no lacking for confidence.

Nick chuckled at that, and a little smirk edged up his mouth. “I don’t doubt we will, doll. Thanks.” A bit subconsciously, the synth’s hand managed to find it’s way to Nora’s head, tangling up and smoothing the hair along her scalp in a tender, gentle movement.

Nora hummed contently at his words, decided to put such things aside for tomorrow, and relaxed even more beneath his soothing touch.

In no time at all, Nora’s breathing evened out in sleep, and Nick was free to watch over her and ponder what it would mean for him when Winter was finally gone.

What it might mean for them both.

Chapter Text

“How’re we doing, Nick?”

The detective glanced at Nora. The woman stood in her armored surveyor outfit, the red of her jacket cutting nicely against the blue of the sky behind her and the towering skyscrapers on the horizon. She looked at him with a careful frown, measuring the detective. “Nick?” she prompted again. “We doing all right?”

“Fine, fine. . .” Valentine replied, clearly lost in thought. He looked out to the horizon, and only came back to the present when Nora gently touched his upper arm.

He returned his gaze to her, and faintly felt Nora’s grip tighten. “Welcome back to earth,” she teased, but he saw the concern in her stare. “Are you going to be okay in there, Nick? I don’t want you to . . . get lost or anything. We don’t know how many hostiles will be in there, and I-”

Nick waved her concern away with a single hand. “No, Nora. It’s fine. I just-” he exhaled, and ached for a cigarette. “I just can’t believe we’re finally here. After all this time, we’re going to bring Winter to justice.”

Nora took a moment to absorb his words. Then, “You nervous?”

His brows furrowed, and he looked torn. “Terrified?” He thought for another few moments. “Excited?” Nick clenched his jaw. “Some kind of horrible middle between those.”

At his side, Nora chuckled, and reached with one hand to start digging into her pocket. “You sound like you need a cigarette.”

God he really did. The old detective couldn’t help but think of old action movies as the hero busted in, a minigun in hand with a lit cigarette in his mouth. A sight to behold, but that seemed more like Nora’s thingrather than his. She was the forceful kind that could run headlong into a fight without looking back, but Nick was more cautious, needed to do his work in the shadows.

But that’s just one of the many things he liked about Nora.

She was so honest, especially in how she presented herself. Genuine.

At her offer, Nick held up a hand to stop her. “No, doll. It’s fine. We can have one afterward, when we’re celebrating.”

“You betcha,” Nora said with a grin, and took one out to light for herself. As soon as it was lit and she had taken a puff, she looked at him with a light in her eyes. “You ready to go get this scumbag?” For added emphasis, she cocked the barrel of her gun.

Nick shook his head in amusement. So dramatic. “Let’s go get ‘im.”

(**)

Nick lifted his arm, pistol held close in hand as he aimed and fired quick and precise shots at the raiders filling Andrews Station. One with a bat rushed at him, a scream tearing from the crazed man’s lips, and was suddenly caught off guard as Nora swung her serrated machete. The blade sliced though the man’s neck, spraying blood and ending the man’s life in seconds. His knees buckled beneath him, and before Nick could even look for another target, Nora had rushed off for the next one.

The pair had a good system this way. Nora would rush off to take out enemies with her blade, and Nick would cover her for any side-long attackers. In turn, if there were any enemies approaching him, she would hurry over to cover his back.

In Nick’s opinion, they were a great team.

“Think these guys are working for Winter?” Nora called to him, her voice echoing in the abandoned subway tunnels.

“Not likely,” Nick returned. “Eddie’s probably stayed holed up in his bunker like a rat. These guys don’t feel like his usual goons.” The detective watched Nora’s back as she finished off a raider, taking careful aim to shoot another in the face as they neared his partner.

Nora tossed a quick “thanks” over her shoulder, but then narrowed her eyes so she could bolt to Nick’s side. With a turn of a wrist her machete cut another raider open, the blade stabbing deep into this one’s abdomen. Nora’s body shielded Nick from any of the gore, but the detective knew she would need a shower after all this.

“Appreciate it,” the detective said in turn.

She turned to him, panting, a wild look in her eyes as she nodded once and scanned quickly for any more signs of life. “I can’t believe how extensive this all is. Their whole base is this subway tunnel. If it was all cleared out it would make one hell of a hide-out. Connecting tunnels all around Old Boston? A gold mine if it could be emptied out.”

Nick hummed thoughtfully. “Not sure how helpful a group of linking tunnels would be for the Minutemen, don’t you think, doll?”

His partner was still, and quiet, like she was considering something. “I suppose you’re right,” she finally said. “The Minutemen wouldn’t use it.”

There was something restrained in her voice. Nick elbowed her lightly, teasing. “Not a bad idea, though, doll. You’d make a hell of a mob boss from the old days, thinking like that.” The detective couldn’t help but think of Skinny Malone in his old Vault that connected to the subways. “Easy access to points all across the city without fear of monsters or raiders if it could be cleared out. Smart.”

Nora made a sound that seemed like a laugh, the breath exhaling through her nose in an unrestrained “Mmmph!” Her expression fought to maintain it’s neutrality. She looked at him with a dancing light in her eyes. “No need for that when I’m already a detective.”

Nick smiled gently, pleased. “Of course, Nora.”

The pair of detectives walked through the tunnels, flares of light and shadows leading the way. Both paused when they stumbled across a boxing ring set up with chairs placed on a balcony above for viewing.

“Never much into the sport,” Nora commented passively with a wave of her hand towards the ring.

“Same here,” Nick agreed, regarding the area around the makeshift boxing ring. The empty bottles and food containers littered the area, and the detective was struck by the reminder that raiders were people, too. Deranged, crazed, blood-lusting maniacs, but still human.

And he, he was just-

“Nick,” Nora called him back with her voice, soft as falling ash. “Are you ready?”

She had found the way ahead of him to a darkened corner of the underground, next to a keypad with numbers. Nick looked at it, and felt something in him clam up. “Doll, we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. How about you do the honors for this one?”

He could read the concern in her eyes. “Are you . . . are you sure about that?”

The detective nodded, and wondered if she could see the anticipation and worry flickering in the golden light of his eyes. “Please,” he allowed.

It was enough to convince her. The blood-stained woman turned at that, and punched in the code, muttering the numbers under her breath as she did.

With an audible sigh, the door swung open.

And there. There he was. Sitting on the couch and turning his head to the sound of a door long-closed, open at last.

His hair was white with age, his voice changed and his face wrinkled from radiation, but the man inside was the same.

The same dirty, low, scumbag-

“Eddie!” Nora called out in a fake pre-war accent. “It’s me! Your old pal! Molly McFuckyourself!”

Apparently Nick hadn’t jumped on the train soon enough, and Nora had taken the reins so the detective could collect his thoughts.

Eddie talked, and Nick saw that he did, but all the detective could hear was the turning of gears in his head, and he wondered that if he was still the Old Nick Valentine, that he might have felt the blood pounding in his ears from rising blood pressure. He listened for the thumping of his heart, the rasping of his breathing, but all that echoed back was the rhythmic pump of coolant through plastic tubes, and the whirring of fans deep in his mechanical chest.

All that spewed from Eddie’s mouth was shit. But when Nick stepped forward, the shit that fell from Eddie’s mouth turned into poison that dripped from his lips.

“You’re not him. You’re not Nick Valentine. You’re just, what, some kind of machine.”

Boiling rage curdled in Nick’s gut like something turned sour, and the detective clenched his hands together at his sides. Metal scraped on metal, and he imagined that if he snapped his fingers fast enough, sparks might fly from the ends.

“You killed my fiancee. Jennifer Lands. There are some crimes that even you can’t get away with, Winter.” From the corner of his vision, Nick saw how Nora angled her head his way when he referred to ‘his’ fiancee.

Eddie tilted his head to sneer, “You mean Nick Valentine’s fiancee? Yeah I remember her. Pretty girl. A shame what happened to her.” He chuckled, a smirk forming at his face. “Real shame.”

At his side, Nick heard Nora’s sharp inhale of breath, and he tilted his head away just in time to see his partner shift her weight and take a small step towards the detective. Her rifle rested comfortably in her arms, but the restless twitching of her fingers and the sharpened gleam in her eyes told Nick all he needed to know in what she thought of this guy.

With that thought, the detective felt a swell of determination go through him.

He had his partner at his back.

This was only going to go one way.

Eddie kept spewing BS from his mouth, and every bit of it caused Nick’s teeth to clench a little tighter, his hands to stiffen their grip on his pistol.

“Look at you,” Eddie sneered. Nick could see the mirth flashing in the ghoul’s eyes, the joy he took from being able to put someone down. “You’re not even alive.”

At his side, Nora’s breath hissed, and Nick felt his voice grind out, “Then I guess I’m in good company.”

The threat was enough to set the tension in the room alight. Eddie went for his gun, no doubt to aim at the detective, and Nick saw as Nora moved to the side of the room, machete gleaming in the light as she shifted to a tactical position. For a moment, Nick feared she would intervene, but that amazing woman only moved to the side protectively where she could get Eddie if whatever went down went too far.

The detective jerked toward his own weapon, the pistol’s weight familiar in his hands. Nick aimed hurriedly, a small shake in his palms causing his aim to stagger as the bullet directedat Winter’s head went burying itself into the back wall, instead. Nick cursed under his breath, inhaled carefully, then aimed again while trying not to get shot, himself.

One of his next bullets embedded into Eddie’s arm, and Nick felt a spark of victory shoot through his wires and circuits. The grizzled ghoul grunted as it went in, his other hand flying to his arm for pressure as blood spurted through wrinkled fingers.

More determined than ever, Nick took aim again, and fired rapid shots with his gun at the old crime boss. One! Two! Three! He was down to his last bullet, but Winter was already falling back, holes filling his head, his arm, his chest.

The body crumpled. Nick stood, approached the old man, and looked at him. Looked at the man who stole his fiancee away. Looked at the man responsible for so much misery, so much depravity.

But just a man.

A regular, living, breathing, now a dead and bloody man.

Nick released a breath of air, feeling some of the tension escape his body and his mind. After all this time, spending years of his life worrying, agonizing over the past, aching for the thought that he could have done better by Jenny.. and Eddie Winter was just another flesh and blood man. Not the monster Nick had built him up to be. Just a disgusting, miserable, ghoulish old man, left to die alone.

In a burst of uncharacteristic emotion, Nick aimed the gun a final time at Eddie Winter’s body, and shot the old bastard where his heart would be.

“Nick . . .”

Nora’s voice was what brought the synth detective out of the dark and muddled clouds of his mind. The detective lifted his head to meet the eyes of his concerned partner. Nick moved his mouth to form words, and uncertain of what he would say, found he hardly knew what he was going to say before he even said it. “We’re done here. But... I still have more to do. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d enjoy the company. It shouldn’t take long.”

His partner had nothing but patience in her gaze as she smiled sadly at him. “Of course, Nick. I’m here for you.”

He didn’t even bother taking one more glance at Eddie Winter before turning on his heel and walking out of the old bunker. Valentine could hear Nora tottering along behind him, and he almost wished he could weep, just for being so grateful she was here with him. Without a person to guide him through this, Nick didn’t know how he would have reacted to seeing the old ghoul there. Maybe he would have become as monstrous as the man he just killed.

There were just a couple of raiders left as the pair made their way through the remains of an old sandwich shop. They went down easy enough with a few well-aimed shots by the detectives, but Nick’s mind was elsewhere, even when Nora asked him softly if he was all right.

“Jenny . . .” Nick couldn’t help but utter, and soon enough after walking through the sandwich shop, he was out in the open, the Commonwealth air cold against the sensors in his face.

It was night, and it was raining. Because of course. When the synth looked up, he couldn’t see the stars, only gaps in the rain clouds that revealed the twinkling jewels above them.

His feet carried him to the spot on the street, right where Jenny had fallen all those years ago. After centuries of wear and tear on the road, any sign of her murder was long gone. The only thing keeping her story alive was Nick’s memories, and even then, they were ones that didn’t even belong to him. Not really.

Carefully, Nick knelt to touch the crumbled asphalt at his feet. Above, he could hear how the rain fell against the billboard at his back. Even after all this time, it was the same billboard, the same cigarette brand the old Nick Valentine smoked, the same one Nick used today. Though there was only the sound of rain pattering all around him, Nick knew Nora stood at his side, waiting for him.

He didn’t keep her waiting for long, but he appreciated how she allowed him to take his time. “This is it,” he told her. “This is the spot where two hundred years ago, one of Eddie’s boys put a bullet in Jenny Land’s back. Now Eddie-” Nick swallowed as the processors in his body recognized his conflicted feelings of grief and relief. “Eddie is as dead as Jenny and Nick. And I. . . I’m at a loss.”

The detective heard his partner sigh softly, and her impossibly gentle hand touched his left shoulder. “Nick . . .”

He stood, and her hand fell away. Nick looked to her, and he tilted his head a little so he could see her better. The cloth of his hat was beginning to droop from being saturated by the rain. She looked at him with an impossible ocean of emotions in her gaze, and her hair was starting to frizz after being in the chilled and humid air. Water streamed down her eyeglasses, but the glass in the frames was clearer than ever. Nick felt his throat begin to close up again in a very human-like fashion. “All I know is that – that without you, Eddie would still be at large.”

Nora regarded him with that impossibly level stare, and while Nick would expect her to crack a joke or make a snide remark, her tone was remarkably respectful as she spoke with a low and even tone. “Taking down Winter was a big deal, and it meant a lot to you. Are you doing alright?”

The detective’s shoulders drooped, as if they carried an even heavier burden. “I don’t know. It’s just, it’s a lot to take in. I mean-” and his head turned to look at the quiet waterfront, the city mostly dark across the river except for the bright glow on the horizon that led to Diamond City. “Winter was it. The last trace of the original Nick Valentine. The last proof outside of some long lost archive that I was ever just a mechanical copy of some cop from a bygone era.” He looked at his feet hopelessly. “I’m not sure how to feel.”

His partner had her neutral face on, but her eyebrows gave away the slightest bit of emotion as the ends knit together at the center of her forehead in an expression of pity. “What did you expect to feel, Nick?”

“I don’t know,” Nick admit. “At the very least, not this. I thought Winter passing would finally leave me with some semblance of peace, that it would allow my memories of Jenny to pass on. . .” He shook his head. “But that’s the problem. Because of what I am, I’ve always been Nick Valentine. I owe everything I am and have to him. His memories, his fear, all that poor bastard’s hope.”

Nora kept quiet, her gaze thoughtful, and Nick went on. “I still remember getting the call in to go to some lab at Cambridge for that neuro-whatever. And then the next thing I know, I’m in a trash heap, everything I know gone. My family. My friends. Everything.”

Anger began to edge in his tone as his mind went back to that time. He was so confused and upset about everything. Nothing looked the same after the bombs fell, and now in addition to groups of maniacs with guns, there were honest-to-God monsters, beasts ten times the size of a normal man, creatures the things of fairy tales and horror movies.

Nick still remembered with cold clarity what it was like when he finally looked in a mirror at himself, saw the worn and gray synthetic skin. Glowing yellow eyes, tattered wires and a hand of metal. Impossible of ever passing as human.

The detective swallowed past a lump of grief. “And then I found out I wasn’t even me anymore. That I was just some copy of the real deal. None of what I had belonged to me. They were borrowed, or stolen, more like.”

“I’m so sorry, Nick,” Nora murmured at his side.

Nick found himself still stumbling over his words. “I hoped that with Winter finally dead and buried, that trace of the old Nick would finally disappear with him. That I – that I would finally be free of it all.” The detective lifted his gaze to look at her. “But, it’s more than that. What we’ve done, it’s more than Nick, or Jenny, or Eddie. God, or even you and me.” He lifted his eyes to lock gazes with Nora boldly. She met him just as starkly, and Nick ground out, “It was about justice, and about doing what’s right. And that act of goodness, that’s ours. And ours alone.”

His eyebrows lowered into a convicted frown. “And if that’s all we can claim, that one act of goodness, then I can die happy.”

The statement of justice filled the empty air and went into the rainy night. Nora simply looked at him, her gaze still but her voice quietly challenging as she said, “Was it justice, Nick?”

He snapped his bright yellow eyes at her, something hard lining the stiffness of his face. “What?”

Her expression was still, but her eyes were intense as she regarded him. Nick was reminded at once of a stalking cat about to leap on unsuspecting prey. He didn’t know how she managed to pull that off with just one curt look. “In Pre-War times,” she started, “this wouldn’t have been justice. This was murder. We hunted, planned, and killed that man in the first degree. If we were taken to court, we would have been sentenced for what we did, regardless of the kind of man Winter was.” Her eyes were dark gray in the light of the shrouded moon, and her words could have chilled Nick to the bone. “Eddie hurt others in the past, sure, but he wasn’t hurting anyone sitting on his ass in that bunker. So what makes this justice, rather than revenge?”

Well, she made him think, that was for certain. Even when standing there water-logged with rain dripping down her soaked strands of hair, she was giving him something to think about. Damn her introspective nature.

He cocked his head a little to look at her with a glint of knowing in his eyes. “I’m surprised you know the different degrees of murder, Ms. Nora.”

She didn’t miss a beat to pick up what he left off. “I’m quite the history buff, Nick. Thought you would have realized that, being a detective,” she returned quickly, a smirk in her voice. Damn her. The smirk fell away in between the next patters of rainfall. “Stop avoiding the question.”

She wasn’t saying that what they did regarding Winter was wrong. He knew that. Nora wouldn’t have gone along with the mission, otherwise. She was challenging Nick’s old Pre-War ideals of what justice was to what the Commonwealth had shaped it into.

Nora didn’t want to argue like they were in a fight.

She wanted to debate.

Nick didn’t want to admit that she was absolutely right about him avoiding the question, and he also didn’t want to admit that he had absolutely no clue on how to answer her question. He ducked his head down. “I’m not a lawyer, doll. I’m not sure how to answer that kind of question.”

When he glanced back to her to gauge her reaction, her eyes practically sparkled with delight. “That so?” The smile in her expression and voice disappeared. “So it was revenge, then.”

He shook his head. “No. It wasn’t.”

Nora waited for one thoughtful second. “Tell me how, then.”

Nick’s shoulders lifted and fell with a sigh. “Why bother asking me, doll?”

“Humor me, Nick.”

He sighed again, but chuckled in resignation. “Whatever you say, Counselor.” He saw her flash a quick grin at the nickname, and Nick tucked that observation away for later before choosing to answer her query. “Justice is different today. There’s no system like the time before the bombs. No formal judges, no juries, no prisons for those who have done wrong. For crimes as heinous as what Winter has done, you have to make the distinction for yourself. Even if it would have been wrong in times before.”

Nora’s stare remained on Nick, like her gaze could bore into his soul. He waited for her to speak, but then the straight line of her mouth curved into an approving smile. “Okay, Valentine,” she said, and reached up with one hand to pull the wet hair in her face back along her scalp, sending scattered droplets about her head. “I’ll accept that answer.” Her usually straight and wavy hair had crimped into disorganized curls from the rain, and drops of water fell off the ends and onto her shoulder.

Nick couldn’t hold back the smirk or the snark as he quipped, “Any more questions for the defense, Counselor?”

“The prosecution rests, detective,” she said with a returning grin. “You ready to get a move on?”

“Not quite yet,” Nick said, still feeling the weight of the night’s events resting heavily on his chest. “I just gotta tell you, Nora, that none of this ever would have happened without you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you for that.”

Her grin was the definition of cheeky, “But please, feel free to try. Caps, ammo, real estate . . .”

The detective laughed, a smile turning his frown. “Hah! Wise to the end. Now come on,” his smile turned easy, and he let his hands go to rest in his pockets. “We’re not helping anyone just standing around here.” A thought suddenly struck him, and the edges of his grin began to shift. “Well, that is-” he cleared his throat, struck by the quick flush of embarrassment. “If you’re still interested in traveling together, I mean.”

He almost couldn’t bear to look at her, afraid she might finally dismiss him after traveling for so long, that she might want to trade up for someone better than a worn-down old bot. However, the warmth of her gaze was so welcoming and so endearing, that Nick almost mistook it for something else. “Of course I want you to come with, Nick,” and she said it like it was the most obvious statement in the world. “We’re partners.”

Gosh, when she said it like that, it sounded almost believable. “Sure you’re not gonna wise up anytime soon and trade me for someone else?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Nick. I thought a detective like you could have figured something as obvious as that in a jiffy,” she teased, her tone playful.

God. She was so kind, so genuine. Such an astoundingly amazing individual. High moral standards, sharp as a whip and as quick on her feet with a weapon as she was with her words. How someone like her could decide to partner up with someone as stumbling as him was a mystery Nick thought he might never solve.

If Nick could ever become half the person she was, he would consider it an accomplishment.

“Gotta say, doll,” Nick said, his voice a low timbre of honesty and vulnerability. “I’m honored. Truly.”

Whatever held her back before must have broke, because Nora put all her cards on the table as she closed the distance between them to wrap her arms around his neck in the warmest, and most affectionate hug Nick had ever received.

“You’re a better man than you think you are, Valentine,” she said against what was left of his ear.

Undeniably, Nick was slightly thrown off-guard by her embrace, but returned it as he looped an arm at her waist, and the other across her back. The sleeves of his trench coat were absolutely drenched at this point, but she went in for the hug, anyway. He chuckled, and his metal hand slid to the back of her head. “Don’t know about that, doll.”

“You can trust me, Nick. I know what I’m talking about.”

“Glad one of us does, I suppose,” Nick laughed. “And I’m glad it isn’t me.”

She laughed at that, and slid from his embrace after a couple more seconds. There was a smile in her eyes and a warmth there Nick couldn’t describe. A part of him wished she would have stayed in his arms for a moment or two longer, and another part of him wondered if that was selfish.

He put such thoughts away.

“Time to hit the road?” he asked.

Nora nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter Text

“Sure you don’t want to camp for the night to warm up?” Nick asked again, pressuring her to hole up until the rain passed.

“It’s fine, Nick,” she said with a weary sigh. “It’s quieter at night, anyway, and less enemies will be out because of the rain. If anything, it’ll be safer than it’s ever been walking through the city.”

Her logic was sound, and she was right. Didn’t mean that he had to agree with her, though. “What about Mirelurks?” he challenged.

“Yeah. Okay,” she said flatly. “If we just happen to bump into a mirelurk in the middle of Boston, then yeah, I’ll give you that one. Never mind the fact that they stick close to the shores where there’s sand so they can burrow and lay eggs close to water, and that there’s essentially nowhere like that in the ruins.” She looked over her shoulder at him as they walked, and she paused for a quick beat when she hit the nail right on it’s head with her question. “Do you want to stop for the night? Your joints bugging you or something?”

Nick scoffed at the question, and removed his hat so he could wring out the rainwater from it, not that it would do much good. He didn’t want to admit it, but. . . okay. Maybe his pride could be sacrificed for this. “Not a huge fan of rain, myself. If it’s all the same for you, I wouldn’t mind holing up for the night.”

Her priorities were immediately steered awayas soon as Nick voiced a need for himself. “Okay, yeah. Sure. Let’s find a place to bunk for the night.” She scanned the ruined buildings of Boston that surrounded them. Her eyes settled on one that still seemed to be relatively intact, and she pointed to it. “How about there? Looks secure enough.”

Nick looked up at the ruined building and tilted his head, his optics scanning it thoughtfully. There were no blood bags or totems of decapitated heads, so it wasn’t likely that any raiders or super mutants had taken shelter there. No Gunner insignia along the nearby walls, either. So it could be likely empty, unless otherwise occupied by ferals, killer robots, mole rats, or gargantuan bugs.

The detective shrugged. “Sure, anything to get out of this rain.” The brim of his hat dipped down, and the synth took another cursory look over it. It was small, only two stories, with a flat, overlapping roof and built with crumbling, faded brick. At his side, Nora cocked her combat shotgun, and started walking towards the building. The door creaked, swinging on it’s hinges as she boldly kicked it open.

Nick went in after her, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the building he followed the determined woman. Nora kept her cool, the gun held easily in her hand as she walked with it held loosely in front of her, ready to aim and fire a shot at the slightest signs of trouble.

After walking a few paces forward, Nick paused, his sensors alerting him to a sound off to their right. “Shh!” he hissed quietly. “Hear that?”

At Nick’s warning, Nora immediately went into a crouch and turned towards the sound, her eyes and ears straining for any signs of a threat. The first floor itself seemed relatively empty, the room mostly filled with tool boxes, a power armor station, and other bits of mechanical supplies. A protectron stood sentry on the far side of the wall at his station, inactive. A terminal attached to the wall blinked with a sharp green light, and Nick knew at once what Nora wanted to do. She glanced back at him, and gestured with her head to the terminal. “Cover me?” she mouthed.

Nick nodded and made the same gesture towards the computer, “Hack that terminal for you, if you need it.”

She flashed a quick smile at him, moved forward, and Nick suddenly pivoted as a low and viscous growl ripped out from the other side of the room. At attention, Nick made quick aim of the origin of the sound, his optics immediately honing in on the source as a feral ghoul crawled out from a blind spot behind a cart of tools. The detective didn’t hesitate and quickly shot off a few rounds into the ghoul’s skull, the body flung backward by the force as it crumpled to the ground.

Confident that the rest of the floor, at least, was cleared, Nora stood to her full height and went to the terminal. “Even if there’s no more baddies in here, we might as well have someone to help us.”

“Sure, sure,” Nick agreed amicably.

Nick watched from her back how deftly she typed at the keys, but found himself teasing her as soon as she unlocked the screen. “There any machine you can’t charm?” he smiled slyly at her.

Nora must have been so focused that she didn’t respond, but her fingers froze over the keys, and honest-to-God, Nick watched as she blushed. Way down to the roots, her face turned bright as a tomato.

Her breath escaped her. “Nick. Was that you . . . flirting?” She turned her head slightly to look at him, something daring in her eyes as an incredulous smirk lifted her expression. At his slightly flummoxed look, she pried teasingly. “Have you always been like this, or am I only just noticing it now?”

Her point-blankness caused a bit of his confidence to waver, but he kept smiling cheekily at her. “Maybe you should try being more attentive, doll.”

His words left an opening for her, and Nora was quick to pick up where he left off. “Oh, I’ve been attentive all right, Mr. Valentine,” and made a show of trailing her eyes down his figure, her gaze slow and heavy, her smile sweet as sin. “Probably more attentive than you’ve realized.”

Nick had to admit it, she threw him off a bit with that one, considering the implications that went along with a statement like that. Trying to get some of his smoothness back, Nick said, “Careful doll, you might give a synth ideas talking like that.”

“Oh, hopefully it’ll be more than just ideas, Valentine,” she crooned at him, and when his startled eyes met hers, she let the coating of saccharine drop from her voice. “My win, I think,” she said in a teasing manner, had the cheek to wink at him, and turned briskly to the terminal as she scanned it for any information or clues as to what this place was like before.

Okay, he had to admit, her tongue was a bit faster and sharper than his, but there was a way he could get back on track. He had to, especially when she was so receptive to his teasing. But. . . how.

He tapped his metal hand, considered something briefly, and made the move before he could think himself out of it.

Valentine grinned from where he stood behind, and stepped closer to erase the space between them, with his front to her back. Barely an inch apart.She stilled at his closeness, waiting for what he would do. Moving carefully, the synth reached his arm along hers to where hers hovered over the key that would activate the Protectron. His chest pressed carefully against her back as he leaned forward slightly, and his more-complete hand went to rest lightly along her hip. Nora had frozen at this point, but it was the energy of someone being afraid to startle a bird by moving. When she didn’t clock him in the face (which she very well could.. if she really wanted to), Nick took a moment to study the way his metal hand shone and glimmered in the overhead light, and how contrasting it was over her soft hand of flesh and bone.

“Nick-?” Nora whispered, voice soft as falling ash.

“Shh.. this okay, doll?” the synth asked, matching her tone.

“I… that.. depends, on what exactly you’re trying to do?” She sounded confused, and he reveled in the chance to make her the flustered one, for a change.

Carefully, Nick breathed out slowly so his artificial breath brushed along the sensitive skin of her ear, then inhaled quietly. Nora shivered beneath him, and Nick nearly did th same, even if his mechanical body had no need for it. “Not doing anything,” he said, slow and sweet. His olfactory sensors told him he was smelling her soap, and he parted his mouth to get a better scent for it as he tilted his head close to her messily-brushed head of hair. With his hand on her hip, he pulled her closer to him so his chest pressed to her back, and he relished the way her breath escaped her lungs in a quiet gasp.

Heh.

So close to her, Nick could feel the shallow movements of her chest as she tried to breathe with him so close. “Just.. giving you a helping hand, there,” he said near her ear, his voice teasing. He pressed his skeletal hand over hers, activating the Protectron with a hiss as it left it’s pod. He wondered if his hand felt cold to her, or warm.

“My win, I think,” Nick purred, when she didn’t let out a breath.

The detective stepped away, and Nora’s shoulders sagged as all the air in her body seemed to leave her in a single gust. She threw an accusatory look at him over her shoulder. “You-” she said, slightly gasping for breath, clearly flustered, face red. “Wh- How-”

Nick grinned, pleased when he saw how bright her face was. “Something the matter, doll?” he said, and leaned casually against the wall. Though it wasn’t totally fair of him to be surprised by.. her surprise. They’d perhaps flirted a bit here and there along the road, but... this was a whole new boldness for Nick Valentine. Edging real close along the line between flirting and making an actual move.

But things felt different now, with Eddie gone, with the memories of Jenny and Old Nick put to rest. Nick felt.. lighter. Less burdened by the past, like there was a whole new world out there for him to explore and experience for the first time as his own man.

And maybe.. pursing things with Nora, going a step past teasing and flirting could be part of that.

Nora’s eyebrows lifted in what was clearly an expression of surprise, her mouth gaping in shock. It was a bit uncharacteristically bold of Nick to be so . . . forward, he had to at least grant her that. “You hit your head or something back there?” she asked.

Nick’s mouth curved up into a wicked grin, “Not that I can tell, doll.”

Nora glanced to the Protectron as it staggered forward mechanically, it’s body swaying to the left and right as it went. She glanced to Nick in consideration, then gestured with a jut of her head towards the upstairs of the garage. “Probably more hostiles up there for us to eliminate. You up for it?”

The detective tried not to let himself feel nervous by the layers thick in her voice, or the way her eyes flitted across his body, thoughtful, even as she changed the subject.

He swallowed. “Always for you, dollface,” he said, and hoped it sounded more suave to her ears than it did for his.

She grinned, her eyes sparkling, and drew out her silenced weapon Deliverer as she took the lead. Nick withdrew his weapon as well, every sensor turned on to the highest sensitivity as he listened for any signs of movement.

The upstairs was dark, not so much as a lantern or brain fungus illuminating the floor as the detectives made their way up. Nick watched around Nora’s figure as she stepped to the top stair, her head turning slightly this way and that as she scanned for any signs of danger. Nick’s nose wrinkled in disgust as his sensors picked up the smell of rotting flesh, and he turned to the source of it as he identified the limp form of a presumably dead feral ghoul.

Nora had turned to it as well, her eyes narrowed behind her eyeglasses as she regarded it. “Think it’s alive?” Nick asked, keeping his eyes carefully directed at Nora.

She took aim for one moment, then lowered her gun. “No,” and she looked around the rest of the floor with the same appraising glance. “It’s dead.”

Nick stayed on alert, though, even as Nora took on a more relaxed posture to walk through the final floor of the house. The second story was clearly built for a residential purpose, with an open floor plan that included a kitchen, living room, a bathroom in the back and a locked door that presumably led to a bedroom.

Even though Nick realized Nora was walking essentially in the dark, he knew better than to ask if she wanted a light on to see. She always had amazing vision in the night time, and he wondered if it was due to a lifetime of staying up and watching for raiders over the horizon of her family farm at night.

As soon as Nora saw the locked door, she went to her belt to withdraw a bobby pin. Getting down into a crouch, she steadied the ends of the pin as she slid them into the door lock. Nick waited patiently, and smirked, impressed when it took her less than ten seconds to unlock the door as it swung open.

“Like watching a conductor at an orchestra,” he drawled.

“Oh, Nick,” she said lightly. “You’re too much.”

Nick only smiled bashfully, and followed in after her as she entered the abandoned bedroom.

There was an open window that showed the Boston ruin skyline, and except for the usual wear and tear of 200 years past, the room was relatively untouched. Nora grinned at Nick’s side when she saw the still-standing bedframe and mattress, and nudged Nick with one elbow. “Great find,” she said. “A bed that won’t actually smell like dried guts, roaches, rotting flesh . . .”

“Only the best for you, Nora,” he said lightly, and he walked over to see what was in the worn-down drawer against the right wall of the room.

“Any clothes in there?” Nora asked as he rifled through the drawers.

Nick shook his head. “Nothing wearable, at least.” the clothes that were in the drawers ripped at the seams or turned to dust, even when he moved them aside with the lightest touch in search of better loot.

The detective heard Nora shudder, and he turned his head carefully to one side to see to see her shuck off her sopping wet surveyor coat and pants onto the floor, leaving her in only her slightly damp underclothes.

Immediately embarrassed, Nick spun so he wouldn’t be able to see, and he imagined how he might have flushed as he heard Nora laugh, teasing. “Bashful mode come standard on all synths, Valentine?” she asked, and Nick recalled when she had teased him about being so shy back in the alleys of Goodneighbor.

Nick chuckled amicably. “Nah, doll. Only me.”

He could hear the smile in her voice, and he looked to her from the side as she covered her chest with her arms and rubbed them fast, trying to stimulate the blood to flow into her limbs. She didn’t have anything else to wear, all her clothes utterly soaked from the rain. “Yeah, well, that’s pretty fortunate for me, I guess. Can’t imagine how much fun you would be if I couldn’t tease you a little bit.” She shivered.

Concerned, Nick stared to make his way toward her, his coat already halfway off his shoulders. “Tell you what, next time we find one of those Institute assholes- he draped his trenchcoat around her shoulders. While both detectives were absolutely soaked to the bone, Nick’s coat had managed to stay relatively dry for the interior, at least better than Nora’s thin surveyor coat. “-we’ll drop them a little thank you before shooting them down.”

She laughed at that, and accepted his offered coat gratefully with a smile. Her arms pulled the edges of it close around her, and she shivered into it as she pulled it as tight as possible to her frame. A bolt of something hot went through Nick as he looked at her- something hungry, and possessive. There was something he really liked about her, wearing his coat for warmth and comfort. “Thanks, Nick,” she said, not catching his look as Nick tried as hard as possible to push those feelings down and away.

“Not a problem, doll. It’s the least I could do after everything you did for me tonight.”

He didn’t mean mean much by it (while at the same time, it meant everything), but she turned to look the detective in the eyes, an eyebrow raised in question. “That’s not what any of this is about, right?”

He didn’t get what she meant. “Hm?” he said, and finally looked back to her.

“Taking down Winter,” she filled in the gaps. “I understand how important it was to you, how much it meant, but I don’t want you to think I set the precedent so that you would owe me for what we did together.”

Nick shook his head at her, “Not at all, Counselor.”

She released a held-in breath of air. “Okay, good,” she said, and her tight stance deflated in just the slightest. “Because I’d do it for you again in a heartbeat, for absolutely nothing in return. I want to make sure you know that.” Her eyes burned with a green and passionate fire Nick wasn’t used to seeing, but he knew from her it meant she was serious.

He held up his hands in surrender, “I know, Nora, I know. You’re just that kind of person.”

She smiled thinly at him, then turned to look at the creaky mattress. The synth saw as her shoulders shook a bit, shivering from the cold as her body tried to gain back some of it’s warmth. It was just one terse moment of quiet, and Nick saw in awe as her face turned a bright red in the darkness.

“Nick?” she asked, and he observed as she determinedly avoided eye contact with him. “Unrelated to all this, could I ask a favor of you? It’s all right if you say no.”

“Anything, doll, name it,” he said, taking a small bit of amusement seeing her act as awkward as he found himself feeling. It was quite different when someone’s uncertainty was aimed at him, rather than projected from him.

Her speech was pressured, said so quickly that Nick nearly missed what she was trying to ask of him. “Could you stay in the bed with me tonight?”

The detective felt himself freeze in a manner that was absolutely nonhuman. His brows arched high along his forehead in surprise, and he felt his own awkwardness return tenfold as he tried to avoid eye contact even more than she did. Before he could even dip his toe into the water, she plunged in ahead of him.

“It’s just that, you’re so warm!” she tried to explain, which only made the fans in his systems spin faster in an attempt to cool down. “And I’m sure you probably noticed that I’m absolutely freezing.” She laughed a little at her own joke, because her shivering was absolutely obvious at this point. Her jaw was locked against the cold, and if Nick attuned his auditory receptors, he knew he would hear the sound of her teeth chattering.

His words stuttered out, anyway, though he had already made up his mind. “Sure – sure, doll. Anything for you. Wouldn’t want you turning into a popsicle by the time morning comes.”

God he didn’t know what he had said, but the effect his words had on her were instantaneous. For a moment, Nora froze, eyes going wide. But then, after a couple of tense moments, her face warped into an expression that said she was definitely holding back a sob, and she had to quickly turn away from him to shield her face as her shoulders shook with sudden restraint.

Alarm coursed through the detective. What the hell did he- and hurried over to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Damn, doll, I’m sorry! I don’t know what I even – are you okay? What- what’s wrong?”

She shook her head at him, her body trembling beneath his, but through the sobs and her tears, she somehow managed to crack an ironic smile. “Nick – I don’t even know – when you-” her breathing hitched as she tried to find words, and tears trailed down her reddened, puffed-up face. “It’s almost like you know-” Her hand went up to cover her mouth in an effort to stifle her cries.

Well that was enough to sure make a guy feel like a million bucks. Nick pulled her into a hug, “Damn, I’m sorry, Nora. I don’t know what I said, but I feel awful, I’m sorry.” What could he even have said just then to upset her?

She shook her head against his chest, and pressed her body closer to the warmth that emanated from his whirring engine. “It’s not you, Nick. It’s never you. I just-” Words fell away from her, and the woman left Nick to pick up the pieces.

“You don’t gotta explain nothing,” he rumbled, and his left, human-like hand went to rest over the top of her head. “You’re fine.”

She huffed her breath against him, and shook her head again, but she said nothing in protest of his appeasing words. His hand went over her head again in soothing strokes, her hair soft against his palm. Nick internally checked the hour. “Let’s just get you to bed and see how you’re doing in the morning, all right?”

It took her a moment, but she sniffled and nodded, sliding from his arms so she could go to the bed. Nick watched carefully from the side as she slid beneath the dusty blanket and tried to get herself settled beneath the covers, the lapels of his coat just barely peeking out from beneath. Her red eyes met his, and she reached over to pat the empty space at her side for him. No different from the nights they slept on the road, curled up by the lingering warmth of a campfire.

At the invitation, Nick went to his side of the bed, taking off his hat and leaving it on the nightstand to rest for the evening. The synth thought about it for a moment, but then kicked off his shoes and slid into the empty spot in the bed at Nora’s side. She gestured for him to get closer, and that was how the detective found himself lying down on the old mattress with a beautiful woman wrapped in his arms.

As soon as Nick was in a resting position with his back against the headboard, Nora wiggled close, feeling the warmth he emanated as her arm went to drape around his lower chest. For comfort’s sake, Nick’s arm went over her shoulder, and she sighed contently at the additional heat from his limb.

“Is this okay, Nick?” she asked, still shivering from the cold, her voice a bit too choked with tears.

“Its fine, doll,” he reassured, and it really was fine. Nothing wrong with him holding his partner close to keep her warm, to help her get through the night. “I’ll keep watch; you just get some sleep and warm up.” Though he had to admit, there was something that curled in his stomach, warm himself at the sight of her curled up in his coat.

“Mkay,” she mumbled, her face pressed against his side. “Let me know if it’s too much or anything, okay?”

She was water-logged, shivering, probably hypothermic, emotionally troubled, and she was the one making sure that he was comfortable. Her kindness and concern reached out to him, though, and the detective smiled at her in reassurance. “I will,” he promised, though he knew he could never. He wasn’t uncomfortable, anyhow. “I kind of feel like I should be having a cigar, though, with such a beautiful dame wrapped up in bed with me.”

His meager flirting was returned as she chuckled. “Regular Sam Spade, you are.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m just Nick Valentine.”

“Good,” she said. “I don’t want Sam Spade in my bed, but Nick Valentine might be welcome.”

God if synths could blush . . . His arm tightened for a second around her. “Damn you just don’t stop, do you?” he asked, feeling a bit breathless with a smile halfway up his mouth.

“I will if you want me to,” Nora said, after a tangible pause. The shivering was almost gone from her voice now, but her tone was serious, and he knew without having to look that her eyes were lifted to him. “Just say the word and I’ll-”

“No,” Nick interrupted, and he settled a little more comfortably as he lounged a little further down the bed. Her head still rested in the crook of his shoulder, but he didn’t look at her as his other hand went to rest atop hers, the one that lay on his chest. “I. . . I don’t want you to stop,” he said, and his voice dropped and softened considerably, so that it almost felt like a whispered confession.

Nora went perfectly still at his words, and she tilted her head slowly to look up at him, while Nick stared resolutely ahead, his mouth pressed into a thin line. His hand opened and closed around hers absently as he waited for her reply. She didn’t make him wait for long.

“Nick. . .” she started, and the detective wasn’t sure at first if it sounded like the beginning of a rejection or a sigh of resolution. “What are we doing?”

The honest question caught him off guard. “To be honest, doll, I’m not exactly sure.” His hand at her back touched the strands of her hair and gently twirled them around his fingers, careful that they wouldn’t snag on his exposed bits of metal. “I was hoping you would.”

He saw from the corner of his eyes as she dipped her head down in thought. “I mean, I thought I was flirting with you.”

Nick nodded. “That you were.” His thumb moved in quiet circles against her arm, and he couldn’t help but finally tilt his head down to look at her.

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “And I thought . . . it seemed like you were receptive to it.”

So calculating . . . Nick shifted his weight a little where he lounged in the bed, and nodded. “I – I guess I was.”

“And you are now?”

Nick thought about it for only a moment. “Well, yes.” He cleared his throat. “I am.”

He watched as she swallowed pensively, knowing that her mind was moving a mile a minute to put everything together. “I mean, what are we, Nick?” she asked rhetorically, “We’re partners, you’re someone I consider to be my best friend.” An emotion clamped up deep in Nick’s chest at that, moved beyond words. “But do you think that throwing a relationship in there would be worth the risk? I mean, it could ruin everything we’ve already built and . . .”

When her thoughts trailed off, Nick tightened his hand over hers. “It’s your call, doll,” he rasped honestly, unable to believe they were even having this conversation. If you think you’d rather we stay as we are, I’ll back off. But. . .” and he had to look away from her piercing gaze when he forced out the next part, “Keep in mind that there’s a lot of accompanying questions if we choose to pursue the other option. Not to mention that I-” His heart choked up in his throat, “I’d be… Well I’d be honored. If you really wanted to get with this old synth.”

She paused at that, and he saw the crease in her eyebrows. “You’re not old,” she reprimanded, but then went right to the point so she could clarify, “Questions like what, Nick?”

He sighed, and his arm squeezed her a little closer to him, as if to keep her from inevitably jumping out of bed, screaming in horror. “C’mon, doll. I’m not a flesh and blood guy, like you want. I can’t give you things a man could. I’m-” and he ducked his head down, ashamed. “-well, I’m incomplete.”

Surprise hit him in the chest as she lifted herself up to face him, her upper body braced on his torso as his hand at her arm came to rest along the small of her back. Nora met his eyes with emerald fire as she spat, “That’s bull, Nick. You’re still you. The guy I -” she suddenly stuttered, and the phantom feeling of his stomach dropping caused him to freeze as she swallowed, and visibly steeled herself, “The guy I’ve fallen foris more than just someone who lacks flesh and blood or whatever it is you think makes you incomplete.”

His expression twisted painfully at her words, but he had to make her understand. “Doll, you don’t get it. I can’t give you what other guys out there can.”

Nora’s face twisted into one of anger as the confusion fizzled away, her eyebrows pinched together as her mouth turned down in displeasure. “Like what, Nick?! What could I possibly want that other guys out there could give me?!”

The detective found himself growing angry as Nora stoked the fire in the both of them. He clenched his fist against the small of her back and ground out, “A family, Nor! I-I can’t give you kids; I don’t have – I don’t have . . .” Nick paused to take in a terse breath. “I’m not exactly.. fully equipped, if you get what I mean.”

Nick heard his fans work faster to cool down his processors as embarrassment sped through his wires and circuits. He looked away from Nora in shame, waiting for her to snort, or laugh, or even worse, move away.

When he didn’t hear or feel her move so much as a centimeter from him, he frowned, and looked at her angrily. “Well?” he demanded. “Aren’t you going to say anythi-”

“Nicholas Valentine-!” her voice snapped, and he startled, eyes going wide. She’d never referred to him as Nicholas before. “You think I care-?!” she exclaimed, clearly exasperated. “You- you think I want-” He was amazed that he had finally put her as a loss for words as she struggled to find the right thing to say. In a burst of clarity, she finally exploded, “What possible inclination did I give to make you think that I want kids?!”

The question stunned him, put him right in his place as he stared at her, dumbfounded. His mouth worked hard to form words. “You, well you- You had a kid before. I thought it would follow to reason that you – that you wanted -”

“My son is dead.” There was no anger directed at him when she said it, just acceptance, and old grief. “Trust me, I am done with having children. I have other people to focus on now. Dozens of settlements to keep track of. I don’t need to pile kids on top of that.” She shook her head. “Not to mention I’m not living a life that would be very well suited for motherhood.” Nora looked right into Nick’s eyes, an earnest, truthful green. “I don’t want kids. Or a family, or whatever fucking else you think I want that would push you away from me.” Her hand at his chest twisted in the fabric of his shirt. “I just.. want you. Need you. I don’t need anything else.”

It was the antithesis of how Nick was raised, or at least, how the old Nick Valentine was raised. Taught and counseled by the men in his life that it was expected for married men and women to have children together, that it was what God wanted. Nevermind the fact that the whole country was in chaos about resource shortages, including food. Nevermind the fact that the world was clearly going to hell in a handbasket with rising tension from foreign nations, and that it was likely not the right time to ever start a family.

“And as for the other thing.” Nora brought him from his thoughts with her sultry voice and a lifted hand to hover at his face, and brushed her thumb along his cheek. “You know there are other ways to pleasure a woman, right?” There was a playful spark in her eyes, now, and it had something sparking in Nick’s stomach- a sensation and feeling he hadn’t expected to feel for.. well for maybe forever.

The synth tried to swallow past the frog in his throat. “Well-um-that is-”

Nora smiled at his bumbling, and she leaned forward so her lips brushed against his his ear when she whispered. “You’re already so perfect, Nick. I can think of a lot of ways we can pleasure each other . . . even if all the equipment isn’t there.”

Nick couldn’t hold back the gasp as her hand slid to his neck and slowly went to massage the place where his collarbone would be if he was human. It took every ounce of restraint in him to press one hand against her shoulder to carefully pry her from him. She eased back immediately, and the synth was again struck by how absolutely perfect she was. Her eyes blown out and dilated from being close to him, her face and exposed bit of chest flushed with arousal- or maybe that was just from getting warm from cuddling with him.

“Doll,” he strained. “Nora. Just. I want to make sure you really know what you’re getting in to. You could have any guy out there, any normal man, but you would choose me. I don’t really – from someone like you – I don’t understand how you would want a synth like me.”

Sadness pierced her gaze, and she straightened her back a little so she could really look at him. “Nick,” she said, all playfulness dropped from her voice. “Do you really not-?” She went quiet, considering him with a level and contemplative stare. He recognized that she was thinking, and he gave her time to gather her thoughts as she sighed and finally said in a resigned tone. “What could those guys even offer me, Nick?” she asked. “What guys are you even thinking of that make you think I would want to be with them?”

“Well, normalcy,” Nick said without having to think much about it. “No one would think twice if you were to choose some rugged scrapper of the Commonwealth, or even a ghoul. Some people might look at you weird, or be a bit rude about it, but it’d be more accepted than being with a synth.”

“Nick,” and she said his name with an exasperated sigh. “You think I don’t know that? There are assholes everywhere, and while I’m sure that more people would choose to give their crap opinion, I’m sure that I absolutely do not care about what they think. Because I want to choose you.” She grasped at the collar of his worn shirt, a slight smile up one side of her face. “Put it together, Detective. I wouldn’t be here with you if I wanted to fall into the arms of someone else.”

God it just didn’t make sense. How someone like her could, when he wasn’t even a complete-

“But, doll,” he managed to croak. “How could you-”

“Dammit Nick why won’t you just accept it?!” He felt her hands clench as she gripped his shirt. “It’s you! It’s always been you! Why do you have to be so god-damn stubborn-?!”

“You really.. you.. want...?” he interrupted, his voice dropped, sounding reverent. It didn’t seem possible.

“Yes,” she emphasized, relieved that he was finally grasping the concept of her wanting him as a partner- at least more intimately than they were, now. Her eyes sparkled with shining sincerity, maybe a bit tearful. “I really do, Nick.”

He gazed at her, and he moved with impossible slowness as his metallic, clawed hand went to the side of her face, tangling in her dark and unruly hair. Her eyes entrapped in his, she pressed her face into his hand, her lips gently kissing his metal palm, leaving an oily mark on the surface. Nora glanced up at Nick, and she moved her hand to hold the most inhuman part of himself to press it closer to her. “I love every part of you, Nick.” She kissed it again without looking away from him. “Every part,” she emphasized.

It seemed impossible to him, and Nick believed and accepted all at once that he would never understand what she saw in him, but who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth when the most intelligent, thoughtful, kind, beautiful, and amazing woman chose to wrap her arms around his shoulders and tell him she wanted him?

He’d have to be some kind of daft fool.

“Gotta say,” Nick finally said, his voice thick. “Never thought I would ever be so lucky to find someone like you, especially out here.”

She smiled, and it was one that expressed just how tired she was as she gazed up at him, her face flushed from his compliment as she admitted, “I didn’t think this would happen, either. I mean, after my husband passed. . .” She went quiet, and Nick gave her a comforting squeeze of her arm; she pat his chest in return, and sighed. “I just never thought I would feel like this for someone else. But I’m glad it’s you.”

Nick chuckled, and it came out as kind of a sigh as he hiked her a little further up his chest with his other hand at the small of her back, and he kept himself from shuddering as one of her legs slid over his thigh. “Guess we’re both pretty lucky,” he said.

“And my stats for luck aren’t even that high,” she teased, her chin tilted up toward him. And while neither of them addressed it, some kind of gravity seemed to be pulling them closer.

“Didn’t need much,” Nick breathed, and as Nora’s face neared his, he found his metal hand going to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair.

“Nick,” she whispered, and her eyes lifted up to gaze at him heavily, a smile playing at her lips. “Kiss me?”

That question was enough to encourage Nick to take the last step, because Nora never asked anyone for anything, especially not that sweetly. With his hand holding the back of her head, Nick pulled her forward so he could tilt his head down and meet her for a gentle but passionate kiss.

Nick’s first thought was how soft her lips felt against his rubbery mouth, and he tried to figure out how they fit together as he melded his lips to hers. He heard her take a sharp inhale as his tongue lightly touched the seam of her mouth, and it was Nick who’s kiss turned feverish when Nora goddamn moaned into his lips.

The synth’s arms immediately folded around her, and he used their momentum to roll Nora onto her back, his weight pressing her into the bed. He kept his full body weight from crushing her beneath him by using his arms to brace himself up, though he allowed his left and complete hand to travel down her body. His hand slid past the opening of his trench coat covering her to rest along her bare hip, and he trembled as Nora’s hands went down the back of his shirt while one of her legs lifted to slide along Nick’s waist.

He kissed her like a man possessed, and Nora returned it with equal fervor as she tried to pull Nick as close to her as she could possibly get. Nick had to remind himself every few seconds or so to stop for a second to allow her to catch her breath, but he found he never let her rest for long before he was back to kissing her mouth, or moving his lips down to worship other parts of her body. Her cheeks, her nose, her eyebrows, the edge of her jaw or that little dip above her collarbone. God she was just perfect in every way, and responsive to his every touch as she gasped and whimpered to everything he did.

“You’re so beautiful, Nora,” he growled as he nipped at her neck to elicit more of those sounds she made. “So perfect, I love everything about you. Can’t believe you would let me get this close to you, let alone allow me to touch you like this . . .”

She cried out deliciously as his worn hand cupped her left breast over her bra and gave it a tantalizing squeeze. Through the thread-bare material, he could feel her nipple stiffen against his palm, and he growled in satisfaction. His thumb circled over the nub slowly, and he took care to pinch and squeeze it, causing Nora to gasp and let out soft cries of pleasure. Nick grinned devilishly. Dipping his head down, he planted kisses along her neck, feeling like he was losing his mind in disbelief to know this woman was falling to pieces because of what he was doing.

“N-Nick-!” she gasped, one of her hands going to hold the back of his head as her body bucked beneath him. “Oh my go-”

“Keep making those noises, doll,” Nick rumbled from his chest, and he noticed how she trembled whenever he spoke, or how her muscles tightened a little more against him when he uttered so much as a single syllable.

He chuckled against her, and captured her mouth in another kiss. “You like the sound of my voice, doll?”

“Yes!” she cried against him, writhing beneath his hands. “Nick yes-!”

Nick hummed so low in his throat that his chest virtually vibrated. “Mm, that’s right, doll. Tell me what makes you feel good. Sing for me, Nor-”

A sudden bang interrupted the pair’s canoodling, immediately followed by a loud thud, as if a heavy door were pushed to the ground. The floor shook with the accompanying sounds of heavy footsteps, and a mechanical voice yelled into the night a single phrase that assuredly brought a wave of dread to both people in the bed, as well as effectively killing the mood.

“AD VICTORIUM!”

“Sh-it!” Nora hissed, and both jumped from each other as though burned. Nora wrapped the trench coat tight around her chest as she scrambled from the bed to grab a weapon, wasting no time. Nick hurried in fast pursuit of her, and he startled when Nora threw her trench coat at him in her haste to change, grabbing the damp clothes she had abandoned earlier that evening.

“Nora are you sure you don’t want to just keep the coat?” Nick pried, not putting it on yet as he grabbed his hat. “Your clothes are still wet from the rain and-”

“It’s fine, Nick,” she said curtly, but he knew her anger wasn’t directed at him. “I’ll live, I just can’t believe the god damn mother fu-”

“Sir! I hear footsteps upstairs! Could be possible hostiles!” one of the brainless soldiers yelled from downstairs.

“STAND DOWN!” Nora yelled in the loudest, most commanding voice Nick had ever heard her utter, causing the synth to jump as she further shattered the once quiet atmosphere. “There’s nothing up here but civilians!”

Nick hastily pulled his trench coat over his shoulders and approached Nora, extending his offer anyway. “Are you sure you don’t want it, Nora?” he whispered. “I don’t want you getting sick because of-”

“Civilians!” the Brotherhood voice, male, called to them. It had taken the ones downstairs a few moments to gain their bearings after hearing Nora’s self-assured order. “Reveal yourselves, or face the wrath of the Brotherhood of Steel!”

Nora muttered several obscenities under her breath directed at the soldiers, and Nick might have blushed if not for the fact that he was already embarrassed about being interrupted from such an intimate moment with Nora. She turned toward him to address his fears, “I’m fine, Nick,” she assured with the same toned whisper. “I won’t freeze to death from some damp clothes. Besides-” she winked at him, and pulled the surprised synth forward for an earth-shattering kiss so she could whisper against his mouth. “I can think of other ways we can warm up when we’re alone again.”

Nick grinned dangerously, and pulled Nora forward to steal just one more kiss, his laugh deep as he mused, “You just don’t stop do you? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Nor’.”

She only grinned against his challenge and kissed him again before sliding from his grasp so she could zip up her coat, and Nick noticed with a bit of pride that her whole face and neck was flushed red. One one side of her neck, he could even see a mark forming from where he’d kissed her neck. She smirked at him, and flipped her hair out from the collar of her coat. “You’re full of surprises, Nick,” she said.

Nick smirked devilishly at her. “If we keep on like this, you’ll find out just how many surprises there really are.”

Her smile only grew, and she threw her head back in a laugh as she slid her shoes on and wiggled her foot so the sole of it went over her whole foot. “My gosh, you wouldn’t happen to have an ‘off’ button, would you?”

“Not a chance, doll,” Nick said, and he took the opportunity to slide behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he placed burning kisses along her throat jealously. “This synth,” he growled, and nipped with his lips at her skin as he pulled her back against him, “only stays on,” and he emphasized his words to lazily grind his hips against hers.

Nora gasped in surprise and turned around to face him, her mouth dropped open in shock. “I don’t have any idea what I unleashed, do I?”

“Not a clue, Nora,” he said, and managed to wink at her, his cocky smile absolutely sinful.

She matched his smile with her own, and threw her arms around his neck for one more kiss to his neck, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said before stepping back so she could reach for her weapon to hide her blushing face. “Well, come on then, Nick. Let’s go see what this Brotherhood of Assholes want.”

Chapter Text

Nick absolutely was not checking out Nora’s ass when he followed her down the stairs, and he would deny it if anyone were to accuse him of doing so. He forced himself to look away as they neared the bottom of the stairs, but kept his weapon at his hip rather than in his hands, per Nora’s recommendation.

“They’ll just be more hostile if we come out with our weapons up. They won’t shoot us.”

“Are you sure?” Nick had whispered to her before they began to descend the stairs. “I don’t exactly have the greatest track record when it comes to not being shot at by the Brotherhood of Steel.” Especially when your usual look comes with inhuman-colored, rubbery skin, and glowing yellow eyes. “I’m nothing more than a machine to them.”

“They won’t touch you, Nick,” she said, and she sounded so self-assured when she said it that he almost believed her. “I won’t let ‘em. Besides. They would have to go through me.”

Nick, himself, didn’t believe it would take much to go through Nora, not when facing two Brotherhood members with fully-loaded miniguns. But, at the same time, Nick had seen and heard of Nora’s impossible feats, so he supposed that this wouldn’t be totally out of the range of possibility when it came to his partner.

“Stand down, soldiers,” Nora boomed in her most authoritative voice, her hands held stiffly behind her back in the most soldier-way Nick had ever seen. He trailed closely behind her, ready at a moment’s notice if things were to go sideways.

As predicted, there were two Brotherhood members in full-body Power Armor, accompanied by a smaller and less-armored member. Nick recalled hearing about different Brotherhood rank and titles in the past. . . Was this a scribe?

Nora paid no particular heed to any of them. “What is your business here?”

“We don’t answer to you, scavver,” one voice spat. “Show some respect. You’re talking to a future Commonwealth Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Nick needed to use every ounce of control not to let his eyes roll into the back of his head, while Nora glared with the force of a thousand suns. “Check your reference logs, Knight. Name: Connors, N. ID number: 62729.”

Both Knights (Nick assumed) took a moment to consider their options, before the snippy one on the right grumbled. “Check it.”

Both parties waited quietly, and the tense silence suddenly broke as one startled out. “P-Paladin! Paladin Connors!”

Immediately, the two Knights saluted Nora, much to the shock of Nick, who looked at her from the corner of his eyes with a question in his mind. Nora told him before that she left the Brotherhood. . . Wouldn’t their records reveal she had left them, presumably some time ago?

Nora was unfazed by their reaction, but her brow lowered sternly. “Thank you. At ease, Knights. State your missions.”

The snarky one replied smartly, a tremor of fear in his voice. “Yes-yes sir! Mission objective is pre-war tech search and possible retrieval, sir!”

Their usual M.O. Nick watched carefully, and the other Knight, who had yet to speak, asked. “Sir, if we may ask, what are you doing here?”

Nora, as usual, was quick on her feet. “Reconnaissance. Tell this to no one, but I’ve been undercover to infiltrate the Commonwealth.”

The three Brotherhood members looked from her to Nick, and it was the Scribe who scrambled up enough bravery to voice, “Sir, what are you doing with . . . this abomination?”

Nick didn’t know if the others saw, but he certainly saw how Nora’s shoulders tensed up, and he watched as her hands clenched behind her back tensed into fists.

She was pissed.

“Show some respect, Scribe!” Nora barked out harshly. “This man has been aiding me, and my cause, and you will show him respect. Understand?”

All three of them nodded, though their “yes sir” was a bit hesitant. Nick watched, in particular, as the young scribe glanced frequently over to Nick, something in her gaze hard. Nick could not recall the face of this scribe, but knew without a doubt that she hated him, regardless.

He paid it no heed, and took comfort in knowing that Nora was directly at his side, should any aid be required. She would keep him safe.

The inquisitive Knight in power armor asked another question. “Sir, have you not heard the All Back?”

Nora was still and as passive as a statue. “What All Back?” she asked, as thought it was beneath her to even be asked about it.

The soldiers paused, and looked between each other before the brisk one answered back. “That all Paladins return to the Prydwen to report. I suppose, if you were undercover, that would explain why you didn’t receive notice about the order.”

Nora nodded curtly. “Affirmative. Relay report, Knight.”

“Sir!” the Knight responded smartly, and stood to attention, back as straight as it could in that ridiculous power armor. “I do not know exactly why, but every Paladin was ordered by Elder Maxson to come in to report, sir!”

The name of Maxson caused Nick to grimace just a bit. Every synth from here to the Capital Wasteland knew of Maxson and his genocidal beliefs that all synths should be wiped out because they were an ‘abomination’. It boggled Nick’s mind to think that Nora was ever one of these mindless goons.

Recognizing that she wasn’t going to get much out of them, Nora nodded in understanding. “Very good. Resume your primary objective.”

“Yes sir! Ad victorium!” All three repeated the salute, but Nora didn’t return it as she spun to Nick and tugged him forward.

“Come on!” she hissed under her breath, and pulled the synth forward and out of the garage, back into the drizzling rain as they left the Brotherhood soldiers behind.

“Wanna tell me what that was all about?” Nick asked, yanking his arm from her grasp when they were safely out of earshot of the Brotherhood.

Grabbing her bag, Nora started rifling through for some unforeseen items. “Okay, Nick, I’ve gotta tell you some things about me. Because while I know a lot of the important stuff with you, like Winter and Jenny and everything, you don’t really know much about me.”

Nick frowned a bit at that, indignant. “I wouldn’t really say that’s true, would you Nora?” he asked. “I - well -” and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I feel like I know a lot about you.”

She threw back her head and laughed before turning back to her over-stuffed messenger bag. “Oh, Nick. That’s barely even the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the loads of baggage I have that you’ll be able to uncover.” Which honestly should have offended Nick, but all he felt was a spark of excitement, thinking of what other mysteries he had to discover from his traveling companion.

Finally, she pulled out a woolen gray cap that she pulled smartly over her head. “I really haven’t told you much about, well, much of anything.” Searching through it again, she pulled out a pair of black finger-less gloves and slid them onto her hands.

The detective looked at the Nora with a frown, confusion passing through his head as he thought of what she could possibly mean. He put the pieces of their interaction together, and the thought of the Brotherhood. “This have to do with those armored-up goons in there?”

Nora sighed and tucked some stray strands of hair up into her cap. “It does.” A whirring sound echoed behind the two, and Nick saw anxiety immediately pass across Nora’s expression. She turned her head back to Nick, considering, and spoke in a quiet voice. “For a while, I was working as a double agent, back when the Institute was still in operation.”

Nick blinked, his eyebrows arching high above his forehead as Nora presented him with this new piece of information. The wind picked up against his hat, turning the brim up and threatening to push it off his head. His hand immediately went to secure it better, and he looked at Nora with an altered state of mind. Honestly, Nick wasn’t totally aware of what to say. She was a double agent? Though the real question was.. Was she an agent for or against he Brotherhood of Steel..?

He didn’t get a chance to clarify, though, because Nora was already on the move.

With an air of finality, Nora straightened her bag against her side and gestured for Nick to follow her lead. “Come on,” she said in a normal tone of voice, “Let’s head out. No point in going back to Diamond City after receiving an order from Elder Maxson himself.”

Her words were sarcastic, but Nick knew they were thick enough to fool any of the Brotherhood members that may be listening a bit more keenly. Nick hurried after Nora, their feet smacking against the rain-sodden ground as their steps sent water splattering about their ankles. Nora had a determined gleam in her eye as she walked forward, and Nick quickly charted her course when he took note of the direction she was walking in. “We wouldn’t be happening to be heading for Goodneighbor, would we?”

“We would,” she said. “Make a pit stop there to drop some things off, and then we can head to the Prydwen to take care of all this crap.” She rolled her eyes.

Nick managed to keep pace. “So, tell me, doll. What’s the real story behind you and the Brotherhood?”

She sighed in that resigned way again, and turned her head to address Nick with a keen glance. “What do you know about the Railroad?”

The detective narrowed his eyes thoughtfully on the road ahead of them as he walked. “I know of them,” he answered vaguely. “I’ve heard about people taking the trail to freedom to find them at the end.”

His cryptic answer registered with Nora, and she smirked. Nick went on, “I also know they fight for a cause worth fighting for, especially while the Institute was still in operation.”

“They really do,” she said, and cast a look over her shoulder at him to give Nick a warm and closed smile.

Nick started to piece two and two together, “So you were an agent for the Railroad?”

“More than that,” she said. “I was a double agent for the Railroad. While I was infiltrating and getting information on the Railroad’s enemies, I was also acting as if I was against them to continue building trust with the Brotherhood.” She paused for a significant moment. “As well as other enemies.”

“So when did this happen?” Nick asked. “In relation to everything else you’ve been through?”

“It happened after,” she replied. “After I lost my husband.” A short breath. “And my son.”

Nick allowed this to sink in and process through his hard drives. After a thoughtful moment of reflecting on what she told him, Nick clarified. “You mentioned other enemies?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained hard on Nora. “What other enemies, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“The Institute.”

The detective nearly tripped over his own feet from just those few syllables she uttered, and his voice escaped him in a breathless and amazed gasp. “What?! You found a way into the Institute?!”

Nora nodded mutely, something more despondent about her affect as she walked. “Yup,” she said. “Found my way into the Institute, and worked my way up into their ranks. Same as the Brotherhood.”

Nick had so many questions moving through his head, he wasn’t even sure where to begin. “So how did you even – why did -”

“Courser chip,” she answered his question without needing to fully hear it. “Killed a Courser -basically these.. high-tech, hardcore synth agents- and used the chip in it to find the signal the Institute used to teleport across the Commonwealth.”

Her voice sounded tired as she relayed all this information. And there were a million and one questions Nick wanted to ask about a place as evil as they. Teleportation, Coursers-? It was all too much- but one question about his companion went to the forefront of his mind. “Why you, Nora?” he finally managed to get the words out. “Why would the Railroad want you as a double agent for the Brotherhood and the Institute?”

She sighed after a moment, and shook her head slowly. “I need to apologize to you, Nick, because I haven’t been entirely truthful.”

He frowned, but waited for her to expand on what she needed to say. When she didn’t speak again, he realized she was waiting for him to respond, “Okay,” he said tentatively. “What about?”

“My son,” and she turned to look at him, swells of emotion passing in her gaze. “He-” and she swallowed tearfully. “He wasn’t killed by raiders. He was taken by the Institute.”

Nick followed along, sighing softly as things fell back into place. “That’s why you were such a good agent,” he said. “That’s why the Institute allowed you in. You were driven as hell to find him.”

She shrugged in a hopeless sort of way. “And I did.” They had both stopped in their tracks now, but neither seemed to think on it as they both stood in the pouring rain. Nora’s eyes started to turn red as tears filled her eyes and throat, “They let me stay, under the guise I could just be with my son. And I pretended to marvel at the place they built underground, which wasn’t hard. The technology they had, it-” Nora stopped, and shook her head. She turned back to Nick. “But my son.. they lied. He was gone. So I had nothing left.”

The detective frowned. “So you teamed up with the Railroad to put and end to them.”

Nora shook her head. “Not the Railroad. Or the Brotherhood.”

Nick frowned. “Wh-well with who, then?”

“The Minutemen.”

God it was sometimes so easy to forget that Nora was a General.

“But why the Minutemen?” Nick asked. Sure, they were a good enough crowd with good enough intentions. Unifying the Commonwealth to stand against raiders, mutants, and ferals wasn’t a very controversial political stance as much as synths were. But they didn’t exactly seem like a battle-ready group that had the guns or the numbers to take out the Institute of all things.

Nora gave him the answer, though. “The Railroad has good intentions, and they do good by helping synths out here when no one else will.” She left out the but in her sentence, and Nick was the one to draw it out of her.

“But. . .?” he prompted.

“They were bloodthirsty,” she met his glowing yellow eyes boldly. “They wanted me to destroy the Brotherhood – to help them blow up the Prydwen.”

Nick nearly felt his eyes bulge out of his head, though he didn’t think that was possible with his particular physiology. “They – they had the ability to do that?!”

Nora nodded slowly. “Yup. And I couldn’t do it.” She paused for a second. “I wouldn’t do it. And I wouldn’t, still.”

Nick regarded her thoughtfully, and frowned. The Brotherhood was a huge thorn in his side, as well as a lot of people’s in the Commonwealth. If someone asked him to press the button to take them out, would he be able to do the same?

He tried to phrase his question thoughtfully so it didn’t sound like he was judging her. “How come, Nora?”

Something flashed in her eyes, and her voice ached. “There were children on that airship, Nick. I would have been part of a mission that killed children.” Her tone softened. “And I know that the Brotherhood are a bunch of a-holes. They’re bigots and I want no part of them, but I’m not going to sentence them all to death for being assholes.” She sucked in one cheek. “Even if some of them do deserve it.. I couldn’t bring myself to kill all of them for the sake of wiping out some bad ones.”

Nick’s voice was quiet. “I understand, doll. You’re not going to face any judgment from me.”

She nodded with small jerks of her head, and looked back up as Nick questioned, “So why are you still working undercover against the Brotherhood?”

“Like I said to those walking trash cans. Reconnaissance, but it’s against the Brotherhood rather than for them.” Nora shrugged. “I keep the Railroad informed so they can avoid certain places, make paths to safe houses so they won’t get into any trouble.”

Clever. Nick smiled and shook his head absently. “That’s just like you, doll.”

She grinned at his praise, and looked a little bashful as she ducked her head down. “So you’re not mad, then?”

Nick frowned. “About your son?” He only made her sweat for a moment before saying, “No, doll. I can’t be mad about that. The lie is definitely easier to swallow than the truth.” He paused. “And we all have our secrets. Nothing to be upset about.” He shook his head. “And being in the Brotherhood doesn’t matter- as long as you don’t agree with them, or help them.” He offered a faint smile, and hoped it was encouraging. “And don’t worry- I’ll keep your secret.”

Nora smiled half-heartedly, but there was true relief in her eyes. “Thanks, Nick. You’re a good man.”

He shrugged bashfully. “You’re too much, doll.”

Her smile stayed in place, and she turned in the intended direction. “Let’s head towards Goodneighbor, then. We can restock and then hit the Prydwen before getting back to Diamond City. Sound good?”

Nick nodded, “Sure, sure. Lead the way.”

She watched him for a second, then in one swift movement held out her hand. The detective stared for a second, perplexed, and looked up at her with a question in his eyes. Nora raised an eyebrow at him, and wiggled her fingers enticingly, something playful dancing in her eyes. “Nick-?” she prompted.

Nick felt a smile curl up his face as well, and he reached out to grasp her hand in his. She squeezed the artificial skin of his palm, and smiled as she stepped close to him. “Goodneighbor?” she asked.

He nodded, knowing there was nothing but love in his eyes. “Goodneighbor,” he agreed.

--------

The two walked hand-in-hand through the ruins of Boston, and while Nick hoped the rain would let up, it refused, even into the early hours of the morning.

Nick was starting to grow concerned for Nora, too, as they walked. She was dragging her feet more, and her eyes kept drooping from exhaustion. After a period of walking, she started to lean on Nick’s arm, and she yawned more and more frequently. Nick shook her a little to wake her up, his voice urging her. “Hey, you gonna make it to Goodneighbor?” he asked softly.

Nora nodded blearily. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.” They were walking through the Commons, now, and their voices were drowned out by the roar of the wind, rain, and thunder.

The detective released Nora’s hand so he could slide it around her waist, and lifted her dangling arm so she could place it around his neck. Nick watched as they passed the cemetery, and then the abandoned building that was typically full of Super Mutants. He was both grateful and surprised that both were empty, and the road was clear of Gunners when they passed the Mass Fusion Building.

“Almost there,” Nick said, grinning for the first time to actually see the glowing red and blue sign that pointed to Goodneighbor.

The synth detective eased open the wooden door that led to the city, and Nora staggered a bit as he guided her to the street that would lead to the Hotel Rexford. “Doin’ all right, doll?” he asked, scanning the way as they walked to be sure no trouble would be heading towards them. A burst of movement caused Nick to glance quick to the side, spotting a ghoul of the Neighborhood Watch scurry into the Old State house.

“I’m just so tired, Nick,” she said, and her voice lilted with exhaustion as she walked. Not to mention she was soaked through to the bone after walking out all night, caught in the rain. Her body shivered against his, and Nick adjusted his weight as he helped Nora. Together, they turned the corner to the Hotel. One of the Neighborhood Watch leaned over to open the door to him, and Nick nodded in thanks as the pair heaved their way to the front desk where Clair stood.

“I’ll get it, Nick,” Nora slurred tiredly, and she reached for her pocket to get some caps.

“Forget it, doll,” Nick replied, and he buried his hand into his pockets. “I’ll cover the room.”

Clair looked on in disinterest. “Ten caps,” she drawled. “Up front.”

Nick held back the instinct to throw her a cold look. Nothing worse than meeting people with a chilled, unhelpful attitude. He dug into his pocket, slamming the caps onto the table with one hand while the other kept Nora upright.

“Got three left,” Clair sneered. “And I don’t do discounts.”

Nick couldn’t help but sigh a bit at that, his lips twisting up in disgust. “I know, I know,” he said. “Gimme a sec, will ya?”

He finally dug out three loose caps, and tossed them onto the counter to be snatched up greedily by Clair. “Last room on the top floor to the right.” She regarded the two critically, one eyebrow lifted surreptitiously. “And five more caps,” she added under her breath to them. “If you’d like my discretion.” Clair winked, and smirked in amusement.

Nick jerked his head to frown at her, and his brows turned into a full-on glare as her meaning crossed over to him. “She’s not drunk,” he snarled, and adjusted his hold on Nora so he could lift her up. “She’s just tired.”

“Sure,” Clair said, her voice raising a bit. “But don’t blame me if word gets around!”

Nick grumbled a few choice words under his breath, but nothing that could be heard as he guided Nora to the stairs. Of course the room would be way at the top.

“Don’t pay attention to her, Nick,” Nora mumbled, laughing a little. “People are just dicks sometimes. Besides, this is my town,” and she started giggling, pressing one hand up to her head. “People are just so dumb.”

Nick chuckled a little under his breath. “Let’s just get you to bed, sweetheart.”

Nora breathed out softly, her expression melting. “Awww, Ni-ick!” she turned a little so she could reach up and boop Nick on the nose. “Sweetheart,” she said, echoing what he had said, and her smile was positively loopy. “You’re so sweet,” she gushed, grinning from ear to ear.

The synth could have positively blushed from the way she smiled at him, and he ducked his head down before he could lock his eyes with her and get flustered all over again. “Come on, doll. Some time in bed will set you straight.”

Her only response was some exhausted mumbling, and Nick took his time turning her around as the two made their way up the final round of stairs and down the hallway.

The rooms were relatively quiet going down the hall, and it was with an immense amount of relief that they finally stumbled into the dark hotel room, lit by only a single lantern on the table.

Nick helped to ease Nora down into the bed, the springs creaking in protest as he did. “There ya go, easy,” he sighed. He helped Nora as she sat upright on the bed, her legs dangling off the end. “Don’t fall back,” Nick teased her.

Usually she would respond, but all Nora could utter was a tired groan as Nick helped her get situated. Stripped her soaked shoes and socks, then helped ease her out of her surveyor jacket.

“Got any extra clothes you can wear for the night?” Nick asked, uncertain if he was going to get much help or even a response from her.

Nora groaned again, and pointed in what she believed was the direction of her messenger bag. “Mneh. . . shirt and underwear in there.”

Nick couldn’t help but suck his cheeks in a little at that. How scandalous it all would have been if he were to do such a thing as a human man, back before the bombs fell. . .

The detective shook his head of that line of thinking, forcing himself to go to the present as he went to Nora’s bag so he could dig through her bag of tricks.

It took some rifling and maneuvering, but after rustling around for several moments, Nick finally managed to manifest a worn t-shirt and a change in underwear.

“These okay?” he asked, turning towards Nora, before freezing and immediately spinning back to look away when he saw that she was stripping down to nothing, and tiredly holding her arm out for the clothes.

“Nick. Just. Gimme the clothes,” she said, and it almost sounded like a whine.

The detective held it out to her, keeping his head dutifully forward and away from seeing her. “Here. Can you-”

“Mneehuugh-” she grabbed at them with scrambling hands, and Nick listened carefully as she got dressed. Her turned back to her, amused to see she was already trying desperately to get adjusted for bed.

Searching around in the bag again, he pulled out a heavy wool blanket, hand-made from one of the settlements they had encountered in their travels. Nick stood and went to go stand at her side as she curled up on the springy mattress, and fanned it out so he could drape it over her body.

“Better, doll?” he asked, and took notice of her gray knit cap, still wet and covering her head. The synth removed it with one deft hand, and ruffled her hair gently with his good hand to dispel some of the moisture from it.

“Mm-hm,” she moaned wordlessly onto the bed, pulling the provided straw pillow up to her head. Nick moved his hand down to remove her eyeglasses so he could place them on the nightstand.

“Okay, you get some rest, Nor. I’ll be here if you need me, okay?” he asked softly.

She mumbled something, clearly between sleep and awake, and reached blindly for her partner. “Nick?” she asked, and her voice sounded so sluggish that Nick barely interpreted it. Her eyes blearily blinked open for a couple of seconds before losing the battle and closing. “Could you sleep with me tonight?”

The detective stared at her, unsure of how to respond. “Uh,” he started. “I’m not really sure-”

Nora groaned. “Not with me, just. In the bed. Sleeping. I want you next to me. If you want to be next to me.”

Nick licked his synthetic lips with his tongue and nodded mutely. “Yeah – yeah, doll. Sure. I can share the bed with you.”

She shuffled over on the twin bed and reached out a hand to pat the spot next to her, not saying a word. Of course, she might’ve already been asleep by the time Nick started to approach, wondering how much of his clothes it would be appropriate to remove. He wasn’t exactly dry from the rain, either.

He was about to suggest that he sit this one out when the door to the room swung open with a clashing bang! Nick turned fast on his heels, gasping and reaching for his pistol in alarm. “What the-?!”

“Whoa! Shit, Nicky, it’s me!” a gnarled voice declared from the doorway, the only thing immediately visible about the stranger being their silhouette. They held up their hands in surrender, and showed no signs of an immediate weapon.

Nick relaxed, though, at the sound of the familiar voice. “Dammit, Hancock. I nearly took your head off that time. Gotta stop scaring me like that.”

“Sorry, Nick,” the devilish ghoul said as he strolled into the room with a devil-may-care attitude and grin. “You know I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

The detective snorted, and cast one look back at Nora. Even in all the hustle, she hadn’t moved an inch or made so much as a peep. The detective relaxed when he heard the sound of her slow breathing.

Hancock went to Nick’s side, his eyes on the bed. “She alright?” he asked, and Nick heard the worry in the mayor’s voice.

“Just tired, that’s all,” he answered, putting his pistol back into it’s halter. “We were gonna bunk in earlier at a place not far away, but the Brotherhood kicked us out.”

“Assholes,” Hancock snarled under his breath, and the mayor approached the bed slowly as he sat on it’s edge close to where Nora’s head lay. Nick moved carefully to the side, and watched in perplexed amazement as John brushed his fingers up along Nora’s forehead as gently as if he were stroking a newborn kitten.

Nick leaned in, and heard Hancock whisper, “Don’t scare me like that, sunshine.” There was a tinny in the mayor’s voice, like he was on the brink of crying.

Damn. Something really going on between them.

Hancock leaned down to kiss Nora’s forehead, and he looked back at Nick, though he remained sitting on the bed. “Just tired? That’s it?”

Nick nodded. “She’s been pushing herself these past few days, doesn’t get much rest in.”

The mayor chuckled, and Nick saw in the darkness as a small and warm smile slid up the ghoul’s face. “That’s just like her,” he murmured. “Keeps pushing and pushing until she just collapses with exhaustion.” Hancock looked over his shoulder at Nick. “Thanks for taking care of her, Nick. I think Nora forgot how to take care of herself as soon as she crawled out into the Commonwealth.”

Something in the back of Nick’s mind wondered what that meant, because it kind of sounded odd, but he put it off for more pressing questions. “What are you doing here, Hancock? How did you know we were here?”

He sighed. “One of my guys burst into my room, frantic, telling me that Nora had stumbled through the gates looking like someone had shot her while being carried by some guy. I somehow brought myself out of my drugged state enough to run down to the Hotel Rexford and ask Clair which room you were in, and she said Nora was up here, drunk and probably drugged.” Nick frowned at that, and huffedunder his breath.

Hancock went on, “Well let me tell you, I nearly socked Clair in the face for saying that and not doing anything, but I was definitely hell-bent on beating someone to a pulp if they were taking Nora to a room if she wasn’t in her right state, ya feel me?”

Nick nodded. “Glad you didn’t.”

“Nah,” Hancock drawled. “All that went away to see it was you, Nick. You’re that old-school gentleman type that wouldn’t so much as look at a lady without her permission.”

The detective chuckled a little at that, and couldn’t help but rib the mayor in turn. “Something tells me you’re the same, Hancock.”

The ghoul chuckled, and smirked as he went back to brushing his hand along Nora’s head. “Maybe I’m a little old-fashioned, but not as much as you, Nick. But you’re right,” he sighed. “I never was that guy who wanted to take advantage of a beautiful woman, and I’d damn myself to hell if I ever did something like that to her.” Hancock frowned. “I’d open the doors to hell and let myself in if someone ever did the same to her, too.” He lifted his head back to Nick. “And I think that’s why I trust you with her, Nick. You’re too good of a man to let her hurt herself.”

Nick bowed his head at the mayor’s praise, and tried not to show how bashful he felt. “Had a bit too much Jet tonight, Hancock? You’re not usually this mushy.”

The mayor threw back his head in a throaty laugh. “Oh boy, you’re spot-on, Nicky! Just finished a can of the stuff before my boy came in to tell me about Nora.” He grinned lazily at the detective, and looked back to Nora tenderly. “I can stay watch with her tonight, if you want to go get a look at the town. You ain’t got nothing to worry about with me here.”

It was a tempting offer, to be sure, and Nick knew in his mechanical heart that he could trust the mayor. But . . . he couldn’t shake off the way Nora had asked him to stay with her, to keep her warm and provide comfort to her while she slept.

“That’s thoughtful of you, Mayor, but . . . Nora wanted me to stay here with her tonight. I wouldn’t want to do wrong by her.”

Nick saw in the darkness as John’s eyebrows lifted along his forehead, and he looked between the two of them in a considerate manner. “She did?” he asked.

Nick nodded. “Yeah, before she fell asleep.”

Hancock’s eyebrows frowned in thought, and he looked back at the sleeping figure of Nora before shrugging. “Fair enough. Guess I’ll head back to the State House to catch a few z’s before noon.” He leaned down to place a chaste kiss at her forehead, and Nick immediately fought the crashing wave of jealousy that went through him at the brief amount of contact. He clenched his fists at his side, and knew when Hancock threw him a sidelong glance that the Mayor saw that small bit of emotion played across Nick’s expression.

He stood up lazily, and adjusted the tricorn hat over his head. “You take good care of her Nicky. She means a whole lot to us, and it’d hurt if something ever happened to her. Ya feel me? We want her to thrive out here with us. Physically,” the ghoul met Nick’s eyes, “and emotionally.”

The man was more attentive than Nick gave him credit for, and he nodded firmly. “Understood, Mayor. You don’t have anything to worry about with me.”

The ghoul nodded in turn, and lazily made his way past Nick to exit the room. “You two be good, now. Be sure to drop in and say hi before you leave our little town, all right?”

“Will do, Hancock,” Nick said, and the door to the room closed heavily, finally leaving Nick and Nora alone.

The detective cast one cautious glance over to Nora, pausing to observe her level breathing as her chest rose and fell in even strokes.

Carefully shucking off his coat to hang it on a chair, Nick made his way over to the bed, sitting on it heavily. The mattress sunk a little from his weight, but he moved carefully when he lifted his feet so he could rest semi-comfortably next to Nora.

As his weight caused Nora’s position to shift slightly, she curled up towards him, either sensing he was near or feeling the electrical heating he gave off. She mumbled in her sleep, and one of her hands slipped from the blanket to lightly tap Nick’s outer thigh. “Mneh, Nick?” she asked.

The feeling in Nick’s chest amplified, and he had the immediate impression that he could have melted from how tenderly she murmured his name. “I’m here, doll,” he said softly, his complete hand going to rest at its’ spot on her head. “I’ve got you.”

She sighed contently, a sleep smile on her face as she wriggled closer to him. “I’m gonna sleep now,” she mumbled.

Nick laughed softly, and allowed his thumb to circle over her forehead. “You do that, doll. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Nora murmured incoherently and curled close to the warm detective, falling easily into her restful sleep.

He watched over her for the duration of the early morning, and long after the sun began to rise over the Commonwealth. As the hours melted away for the synth, he found himself sliding further down in bed until he was laying next to her, his right arm bent at the elbow near his head while his left rested over her waist. She slept closer to him as the morning went on, and Nick found himself aching for the ability to sleep at her side, comforted in the fact that the one he held most dear was in front of him. It was something he had lost ages ago when he woke up to gray, rubber-like skin, and a pair of unnatural, shining yellow eyes.

He could mimic the action, in any case. And for a while he did, closing his eyes so he could listen to the sound of her breathing, and feel her chest move while in deep sleep.

It wasn’t until the sunlight illuminated the whole room that Nora began to shift in that telltale sign of wakening. Nick opened his eyes lazily, and he couldn’t help but hug her a little closer to prolong the feeling of her body pressed up snugly to his.

Nora stretched comfortably, and settled in close to him as she opened her eyes sleepily. At the sight of Nick, she immediately lifted her mouth into a smile, and inched closer to him. “Morning, Nick,” she said.

“Morning, doll,” he rumbled, the hand by his head tangling in a strand of hair around the top of her head. “Sleep good?”

“Really good with you here,” she said, her face barely a hand’s distance from his. “And you?”

He smiled softly. “Well, didn’t exactly sleep any, but I had a pretty good night, lying here next to you.”

Her face flushed a beautiful and warm red, and she rolled herself forward so she could press her waiting mouth to his. A content sigh escaped her as he wrapped his arms more completely around her and pulled her body flush to his, his hand at the small of her back. He was oh so tempted to maneuver it a bit lower down, he he kept it where it was, not wanting to push what they had going.

Nora adjusted herself for him, her body moving so she was over his chest. Her shirt rode up her back as she did, and her shifting over Nick caused his hand so slide over the curve of her ass and to brush along her exposed skin beneath the red shirt.

Boldly, Nick let his hand drift down to grab her ass, effectively pulling her further up so he could help control and maintain her position over him.

Her kissing started to grow more insistent, and Nick grinned against her mouth. “Isn’t it a bit early for this kind of activity, doll?”

She shook her head playfully, smiling as she kissed him in return, her hands over his chest playing with the lapels of his dress shirt. “Mm-mm,” she said wordlessly, her nose brushing at his as she went in for more kisses around his mouth, touching the area above his eyes and his cheeks with her lips. “I can’t think of a single reason why we should get out of bed today.” She ground her hips into his thigh, and Nick bit back a heavy moan when she did, his eyes snapping shut from the sensation.

“The Prydwen, maybe?” he asked, and she groaned when he said it, though he didn’t think it was in pleasure. He let his human-like hand tangle in her soft and dark hair, his fingers gently teasing, and he grinned. “I don’t want you to get in trouble with your many bosses of all these factions you’re allied to.”

She moaned again, and her head fell onto his chest. When he tilted his chin, she fit in perfectly, and he did wish that they could stay here forever, tangled in each other with nothing to think of but them. “Ni-ick,” she whined childishly, and tugged at his collar. “I don’t want to-o~”

He chuckled, and lifted her chin with one finger so he could kiss her temple. “I know, doll. But hey, the sooner we get it all done, the sooner we can spend time doing more fun things.”

Her eyes gleamed wickedly at him. “’Fun things’?” she asked with a raised brow. “And what is that supposed to mean, Mr. Valentine?”

“It means,” he said, and pulled on her with a growl as he squeezed her ass and went to bite possessively at her neck, “that I am going to enjoy giving you every pleasure there is to have you screaming my name, doll.”

“Dammit, Nick,” she said, her voice already filled with pleasure as she arched her neck for him and went to grab at his head. “You’re too good at this, and your promises are too good to be true.”

He chuckled against her skin, and left a soft kiss where he had bit her. That was gonna leave a mark, for sure. “I can tone I down, doll, if that would help.”

“You had better damn well not,” she snarled at him, and went back for another hungry kiss at his mouth.

The detective laughed softly, and returned her kiss with and equal amount of passion. “Alright, doll, I won’t.”

She sighed, and leaned back enough so she could look him in the eyes, and Nick let himself for a second just enjoy the way her green eyes gazed at him, like she was staring into the very depths of his soul.

“Nick,” Nora started, and he startled himself out of his muddled thoughts so he could focus on the words she was saying. For once, she lacked her apparent boldness and seemed a little bashful. “I know we haven’t. . . I mean it hasn’t even been a day since this thing between us really started, but I-” She inhaled once, sharply, then exhaled it just as fast. “I love you. I really do.” She sucked in her bottom lip to bite it. “And I don’t want to scare you away or anything if I’m going too fast for you. I just – I want you to know that I’m in it for the long haul if you are. I’m not looking for some little fling.”

What might have been his heart or maybe even his soul swelled up at her words, and he let his hand go to her face so he could hold it. “Darling,” he said, keeping his voice down to a gentle murmur, like a small stream in a shadowed forest. “I’m not exactly one for flings, either. I-” he looked away for one second before looking back up to meet her gaze. “To be totally honest with you, I haven’t been with anyone romantically since . . . since Jenny.”

Nick forced himself to look at Nora’s eyes so he could gauge her expression when he said this, and he saw surprise cross her face. “Really?” she asked. “Not anyone?”

He shook his head. “Not a lot of folks out there willing to get close to someone like me.”

“You mean a good man?”

“Haha,” he said, and went to cup her face. “You know what I mean.”

She leaned forward with his hand. “I think you mean that people are judgmental assholes.”

He laughed. “That too.”

Nora rolled her eyes at him, went in for one more kiss, then sat back so she could stretch her arms out. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get to work. We’re gonna run to the Prydwen, then hopefully with good time we’ll be able to scoot back to Diamond City before sundown.” She looked at the time on her Pip-boy and made a face. “Or maybe by midnight, at the most.”

Nick sat up with her, and he watched as she started busying herself with getting better clothes on. “What’s the plan for me, doll?”

Nora bounced off the bed and shed her t-shirt so she could rifle through some better clothes in her bag to wear. She settled for a white cotton Tee and found a pair of worn jeans. “What do you mean?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

The detective shifted uncomfortably. “I mean,” he said. “I’m not held in very high regards with the Brotherhood of Steel. They’d likely shoot me on sight without a second thought.”

“They won’t if you’re with me, Nick,” she said confidently. “And if they’re assholes to you, I can just beat ‘em up.”

Nick shifted, indecisive. “That you could, doll. But let’s not immediately become an enemy of the Brotherhood if you’re planning on using them.” Nick couldn’t help but take that moment to appreciate the swell of Nora’s biceps when she said that, as she started pulling her clothes on for the day. She pulled a newsboy cap out of her bag to adjust smartly over her head, and when she started looking around the room, Nick knowingly handed her her eyeglasses.

“Eh,” she said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

Nick laughed at that, then stood so he could retrieve his trench coat and hat from the chair he had left them on the night prior. “It wouldn’t,” he agreed mildly.

When Nick placed his hat atop his head, he was suddenly reminded of Mayor Hancock and his tricorn hat with his request the night prior. “Oh!” Nick said. “Hancock came here last night while you were sleeping.”

Nora’s head jerked up fast. “He did? What- ah- what for?”

“He was worried about you, thought something was wrong,” Nick said with an off-handed shrug. “Wanted us to come see him before we left.”

She frowned a little at that. “I wonder if he’s got a job for us. It’d certainly be welcome after nothing but Minutemen assignments.”

Nick chuckled a little at that. “Fair enough,” he said.

Nora sat on the chair so she could bend at the waist and tie up her shoes. “We better go see what he wants, then. But let’s stop at Daisy’s first. Then we’ll head out. The Prydwen isn’t far from here. It’s the walk all the way back to Diamond City that’s going to be a pain.”

“Whatever works, doll,” Nick said amicably. “Not like I have anywhere to go.”

Chapter Text

Nick and Nora walked boldly hand in hand as they went through the streets of Goodneighbor. Another of the Neighborhood Watch tipped his hat at the two (more specifically, to Nora) as he opened the door to the Old Statehouse, and Nora smiled gratefully.

When they ascended the grand, twisting staircase and entered Hancock’s room, Nick saw Fahrenheit, who lounged on the couch, playing a round of chess, as usual. The Mayor himself sat on the couch opposite her, his boots up on the coffee table, legs and arms spread with a red cannister of Jet held lazily in his right hand. “He-ey! Nicky! And sunshine! My two favorite people~! Get in here!”

Nick raised an eyebrow critically, and desperately tried not to judge. He’s a friend of Nora’s; he’s a friend of Nora’s, he’s a friend of Nora’s-

“Hey Hancock,” Nora greeted easily enough. “I see that you got the party started without me.”

“Ehhh~ Come on, Nora. It’s never a party without your beautiful face.”

She laughed lightly and walked over to the ghoul, who held out his arm invitingly for her. She fell down on the couch next to him, and the mayor let his arm rest heavily over her shoulders. “Want a hit?” he offered the Jet to her. Thankfully, Nora held up a hand in polite refusal, and Nick couldn’t deny the brief feeling of relief that she didn’t partake in this particular hobby of Hancock’s.

“So is something up, John?” she asked after the ghoul took another whiff of the chemical. “Nick said you wanted to see me.”

Nick’s brows fluttered briefly into a frown. There was that John again. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that one. . .

“Nothing up, Sunshine,” Hancock said, his voice soft, and one finger went to brush against her forehead. His head tilted back against the couch, and his eyes were hazy. Nick hoped it was just from the drugs, and nothing else. “Just wanted to see how you were faring out there in the big Commonwealth.”

“Doing just fine, John,” she said plainly, but the tone in her voice gave the inclination that she noticed something was off. “There something else you need to talk to me about?”

The mayor shook his head. “Nah, not here. Just worried about you, is all.”

She smiled gently at Hancock and let her head lean back to rest on his arm. “You sure?”

Nick saw it. It was fast, nearly quick enough to miss, but he saw it as Hancock’s eyes flitted to look at Nick, then go back to Nora. A lazy grain stretched over his face, and his voice was layered with thick sincerity. “I’m sure, doll.”

Bull.

Nora patted John’s leg above his knee, and she looked at him in a way that Nick took to mean she didn’t believe his crap either. “You know where to contact me when you do.”

The Mayor nodded at what she said, and he took another hit of Jet. “You got it, Sunshine.” Nora stood up, taking the cue for the dismissal, and brushed off her clothes. Hancock watched her from his drug-addled gaze, and he rasped out, “Where’re you two heading, by any chance?”

“Reporting to the Tin Assholes, then back to Diamond City,” Nora said. And that caught Nick’s attention- John knew that Nora reported to the Brotherhood as a spy, so he must know about the Railroad and Institute, too.

Hancock grinned. “One group of assholes to the next. Quite a life you live, Nora.”

She smiled at his joke. “Don’t I know it. You’ll be all right here?”

“You know I will,” he crooned, and his hand went to grab Nora’s so he could press a kiss to the back of her palm. The Mayor looked up at her lovingly, while Nick felt his lips unconsciously press together, though Nora didn’t move her hand away. “Be safe out there, okay? Don’t forget about your Mayor way out here away from all the pretty people.”

Nora frowned. “I won’t, John,” she said, and her voice was low and serious. “I always come back, don’t I?”

“That you do,” he said, and he pressed his face to her hand tenderly before letting go. “I’m sure I’ll be in touch with you soon, okay?”

“Okay, John,” she said. “I’ll stop in again when I can, alright?”

He blinked at her. “Okay.”

Nora finally turned from the Mayor to Nick, and the two wordlessly left his office and headed out of the building to go to the airship waiting for them.

------

As soon as the pair were out of Goodneighbor and on their way towards the Haymarket Corner, Nora caught the detective off-guard. “Ask your questions, Valentine.”

He didn’t bother dancing with her this time. No time for a waltz of information passed between the two; this was a tango – direct, to the point, aggressive. What’s more, she gave him permission to ask.

“Alright,” he started, not wanting to waste the chance to ask her something upfront, especially when she was offering. “What’s . . . what are you and Hancock to each other?”

Nora huffed out a sigh, her face puffing up as she let the air out. “Okay,” she started. “Remember what you told me about Jenny?” She looked to him from the corner of her eye. “About how you hadn’t been with anyone since her?”

Nick. Did not. Like where this was going. “Ye-eah?” he asked, elongating the syllables as he waited for her to break his heart.

“The same hasn’t been true in regards to when my husband passed.” Her words danced toward him in the same tango. “John and I-” and she paused thoughtfully, before delicately saying, “we connected.”

The detective frowned. “So, what, you slept with him?”

“No, Nick, it’s more than sleeping with him. It was a while in our relationship before we actually did that.”

Okay, yeah. Nick didn’t like this conversation. He waited for her to elaborate. She did.

“He’s important to me. And I’m important to him. We’re important to each other,” she said, as if this made everything better. “He’s one of my closest friends out here. It’s more than just. . . the physical part.”

Nick glared at the ground ahead. “Do you love him?”

“Well, yeah,” she said. “But,” and she paused, “but differently.” Her expression twisted a little. It was getting kind of convoluted, now. “I don’t know, Nick,” she finally admit with a sigh. “It’s all really new for me.”

Nick didn’t attempt to hide his anger. “So, that’s it, then? All that we said in the past 24 hours meant nothing?”

Nora spun towards Nick, her eyes wide and horrified. “What? Nick, no! Of course not. I just -” she paused to gather her thoughts. “I just wanted to be open and honest to you about my relationship with him. Because, yeah, okay. John and I have slept together, but it’s not like it is between you and me. He and I don’t really rely on a physical relationship.”

The detective looked at her, frowning. “So that’s all we have?” Nick asked, anger churning deep in his belly like a pot overfilled and ready to spill over. “A physical relationship?”

“No, Nick. Don’t put words into my mouth. I’m saying that what John and I have is essentially a friends-with-benefits sort of thing. Yes. We love each other. But it’s a.. devoted kind of love. I’m not going to sleep with him if you’re not okay with it. Obviously.”

Nora suddenly frowned, as if realizing something, and then she grinned from ear to ear. Nick didn’t get a chance to answer her as she declared, “You’re jealous!”

Nick’s mouth turned down. “No- that not- no!”

She smiled victoriously and burst into a sing-songy voice, “You’re jeal-ous~! You’re jeal-ous! Nick Valentine is jeal-ous!” She danced away from him, laughing.

He rushed after her. “I’m not jealous! It’s just that he’s so clearly head over heels for you, that I’m just making sure you really meant-”

“Jeal-ous!” she sang, her smile unrelenting as she turned to him with bright and shining eyes. “You are so-”

BANG!

Nora stopped, her eyes going wide, and all Nick could do was watch as a blossom of red bloomed from the middle of Nora’s chest.

And then she fell.

Nick saw the burst of red fly out of Nora’s chest, and then the expression of shock and rage cross her face as her body crumpled and folded against her will.

What-?

Shot.

Nick’s head spun from the direction the shot rang from.

Raiders.

He had heard this way was clear, but a new gang must have come to re-inhabit it.

Nora hadn’t known.

Her guard had been down.

And now, so was she.

Nick pulled his gun out and fired at the nearest moving thing, praying and thanking God in the same moment as the raider’s head fell back, surely dead as brains flew everywhere.

Nora knelt, crumpled on the ground, one arm pressed heavily into her side as she tried to aim Deliverer at the attackers. “Ni-Nick,” she ground out, her teeth clenched tight. “Get-get-”

Nick didn’t hear the rest of what she said, because his gun drowned out whatever it might have been. Another raider down.

“Nick. Stim-stim-”

“Stimpak. Yeah, Nora, there’s still raiders shooting at us, I don’t-”

“GET DOWN!”

Nick looked up, and saw a stranger in drifter’s clothes running towards them, a gun aimed at the raider’s direction. Bald and wearing glasses, Nick didn’t think he recognized him, but Nora did as she gave a weak smile as he approached. “Dea-Deacon,” she whimpered, relief obvious in her voice as the man hurried at her side. “I need-”

“Valentine! Get ride of those guys! I’ll take care of Wanderer!” He was already pulling out a pack filled with medical supplies. “I can help, but I need you to get those guys off my back.”

You know what? Nick could let go of his control in this situation. He could take this direction.

“Got it,” and Nick turned back to the raiders, pursuing them as he got another one running towards him carrying a nailed bat. Deacon; she’s mentioned that name before. But. . . when was it?

There were only two raiders left when Nick closed in on their camp. As soon as the last one fell, he didn’t waste a moment to bother looting them, and instead immediately turned to run back to where Nora and ‘Deacon’ were at.

He found the man studiously caring for her wounds, her shirt pulled up to reveal where the bullet had entered in her side. Blood bloomed and stained her white shirt, and Nick tried as hard as he could to not think about how much there was.

The man had Nora lying on her unaffected side, and she was chewing what seemed to be bubblegum, something the chew and occupy her attention while she bled all over the street. Nick watched Deacon as he used a pair of large tweezers to go into the oozing bullet wound, and he had to look away as Nora whimpered, fighting to hold back a pained cry.

The man called Deacon asked promptly. “All gone?”

Nick nodded. “Gone.” He felt shaky.

“Okay. Good job.” The man didn’t bother to give Nick a sidelong glance, but he asked, “Can you sit with her? We need her to stay calm while I do this.”

“Deacon I feel fine,” Nora said, her face sweaty, the panic in her eyes revealing how tense she was as Deacon went digging through her guts for a bullet.

“Wanderer, don’t lie. You’re bad at it.”

She gave a laugh devoid of humor, then suddenly whimpered in pain. Nick flinched.

“Sorry,” Deacon muttered, and his voice ached. “Hang on. Valentine?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Nick moved over to where Nora’s head was and sat above her. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he hesitated. “I-I don’t know what-”

Nora reached her arm up to where he was and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly as she breathed harshly to try to deal with the pain. Nick watched her desperately, and held her hand just as tight, as if such a simple action would drive all her pain away.

Deacon spoke lowly, “The bullet went in to her left side. Thankfully it seems to have missed any organs, so this is just a flesh wound, but I need to get the bullet out so I can administer a stimpak and stop the bleeding.”

All at once, it clicked with Nick, and he gawked at the man with the patrolman sunglasses. “Luke!” he said.

“Shh!” the man hissed, but didn’t break his work from Nora’s side. “Maybe don’t just say my name out in the open where anyone could hear it? I’d like to keep my secret name a secret, please.”

Nora squeezed Nick’s hand for his attention, and he looked back at her urgently while she stared up at him, smiling weakly. “Deacon’s with the Railroad,” she rasped.

That made enough sense. Nick didn’t bother asking anymore questions, but Deacon said in a strained, teasing voice- “Giving away all my secrets, Wanderer?”

“Oh stop,” Nora said, the sound raspy. “Nick can be trusted, can’t you, Nick?” She looked at Nick’s way, tears hot and shining going down her dusty face.

Nick nodded, fighting to hold back – well, not tears – but definitely a sob as he bowed his head so he could kiss her forehead. “Just hang in there, doll,” he choked.

“Don’t get all mushy, Valentine,” she said, acting all breezy. “I’ve been through worse scraps than this – aah!”

Nick turned his head fast to look at Deacon, who held up the bloody fragment that was the bullet in the tweezers. “Unbroken,” he said, and let the piece of metal fall to the ground. “We should have named you Lucky,” and he went right into healing mode as the agent pulled out a syringe.

Nora barked out a laugh. “Not lucky enough to avoid being shot, apparently.” She flinched a little when the stimpak needle went in, but the pain lining her expression eased as the wound began to close. Nick pulled a kerchief from an inside pocket and went to dab at the sweat along her brow. He looked down at her in horrified concern, and she returned it with a half-smile.

The detective looked back at Deacon -or was it Luke?- to see him place a gauze pad over the wound and seal it with medical tape. “Check on it in a few hours,” he advised. “But we should really have you head back to HQ so the doc can look at you.”

Nora snorted at that, and sat up slowly at Deacon’s allowance. Nick kept a firm hold on her shoulders as he eased her up, frowning in concern as she did. “Yeah that’s the last person I think I want to go to right now, Deac.” Nora rolled her shirt down, and both men present looked at the stained white shirt skeptically.

Deacon made a suggestion, “What about at least coming down to get some of that new armored clothes that Tinker has? At least for some protection.”

Well at least Nora seemed to consider that, and Nick liked the idea of her having some better suited armor than just a cotton T-shirt. He didn’t say anything, though, but Nora made her choice as she grabbed Nick’s arm to make her attempt at standing. “I’m not going to put that on the agenda today. And besides, I know how to put armor in my clothes.”

Deacon frowned, as did Nick. “Then do it,” the agent said. “I can’t be out here saving your stupid butt all the time.” He made a face, probably from the stained blood on her previously clean white shirt. “And maybe cover that up?”

“Yeah, whatever, mom, I wear what I want,” she said with the roll of her eyes. With her hand grappling for Nick’s arm, he helped her stand to her feet. For a moment she almost fell over, but Nick kept tight hold of her as his other hand went to hold her up in the junction beneath her shoulder.

“Don’t push yourself, doll,” he murmured to her, worry layered in his voice as he kept a tight hold of her. The detective glanced from her over to Deacon. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to this HQ, maybe get some rest there? The Prydwen isn’t going anywhere.”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice growing in exasperation as she tried to wriggle from his grasp. “You both are as bad as my mother; we’ll go to the Prydwen and be back to Diamond City by nightfall, just like we planned, okay?”

Neither of them seemed convinced, but neither of them wanted to put up with the argument that Nora should get some rest. Nick looked to Deacon for help, and the man just held up his hands in abject submission. “Hey, you’re the boss, Wanderer. Just watch yourself out there, okay?”

“I will, Deacon. Nick, can you hand me my jacket from yesterday? I’ll wear that and wash this shirt.”

“Sure,” Nick said, and let her go carefully before grabbing her bag so he could pull out the jacket. It was still damp, but not as bad as it was last night as Nora pulled her shirt up and over her head. Deacon immediately turned to avoid seeing anything, to which Nora snorted a bit in laughter.

“Shy, Deacon?” she teased, and slid her arms through the jacket with Nick’s help.

“Okay, um, I just don’t want to see my sister half naked, thank you,” he said crisply, but there was laughter in his voice, and Nick saw as Deacon looked between the two of them from behind his glasses. “I see you two kids aren’t shy with each other.”

“Shut up,” Nora said, and zipped up the coat. “Nick’s a gentleman.”

Deacon lilted his voice with sarcasm and innuendo. “Oh I have no doubt that he is definitely . . . a gentle man.”

Nora reached over to slap Deacon’s arm, to which he flinched away in mock pain and looked at her accusingly. “You guys are mean,” he complained. “You save someone’s life and they hit you.”

“Oh you’ll get over it,” she said easily enough. Nora reached for her bag, but when she hesitated, Nick swept in and picked it up for her, slinging it over his shoulder. She smiled at him gratefully, then turned back to Deacon as Nick let one arm snake at her waist. “Are you going back to HQ?”

Deacon was getting his own supplies together, and he didn’t look at her as he said, “Yeah I’m doing what I got to do. But you’ll hear from me soon,” Nick saw him glance their way. “Real soon,” he emphasized, and stood up to his height. An easy-going smile lit his face, as if he hadn’t just dug a bullet out of his sister’s body. “Take it easy, yeah Wanda?”

Nora shook her head in amusement. “Sure thing, Deac. And be careful out there, yeah?”

He had already turned to walk away, but he laughed over his shoulder. “Yeah, says the one who got shot!”

Nora laughed a little at that, and she turned her head to Nick with a weary smile on her face. His hand at her waist squeezed a little in acknowledgment, and he asked in a lower voice, “Sure you’re okay, doll?”

She nodded, tears at the edge of her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said. Her wound must have hurt her, because she suddenly hissed and pressed a hand to it. “I’m fine,” she said again, as if trying to convince even herself. “Just hurts a bit. I’ve been through worse scrapes.”

“So I’ve heard.” Nick looked down at her in concern. “You sure you don’t want to rest up somewhere for the day?”

Nora shook her head. “No. We need to get moving. I don’t want us to be sitting around here longer than we need to.”

Nick sighed a little, but nodded. “Okay then. Well we better get moving, then. Prydwen shouldn’t be too far off from here.”

The beautiful woman at his side nodded in agreement, and her hand slid into his his, their fingers twining together. Nick looked her up and down, considerate, and suddenly aching. “You scared the shit out of me, Nora,” his voice a soft murmur. He squeezed her hand. “Don’t do that again.”

“Sorry, Nick.” She smirked. “Next time, I won’t let myself get shot.”

He couldn’t help but respond to her playfulness with a bit of a warm smile. “That’s right you won’t,” he snipped. The detective adjusted her messenger pack over his shoulder, and looked at her as they started walking. “Let me know if it starts hurting you, okay? We shouldn’t push your body more than it can take.”

Nora sighed, exasperated, but Nick knew it was one of endearment as she looked at him softly. “Fine, Nick. Let’s just go deal with the Brotherhood so we can get out of there.”

“Hey, you won’t hear me complaining.”

Their steps were in tandem with each other while they walked, and while both parties were quiet, Nick couldn’t help but wonder at how Deacon was so conveniently close by in their hour of need.

In his chest, Nick’s seed of suspicion began to take root.

Chapter Text

“You’re sure about this?” Nick asked at Nora’s side. The Boston Airport stood ahead, looking perfectly peaceful in the quiet day in the Commonwealth. In the shadow of the Prydwen airship, the whirring sound of a vertbird’s roters caused the detective to look up, and he watched with an ominous sense of foreboding when he heard the shots of gunfire at a nearby shooting range.

Sensing his discomfort, Nora reached out her hand to place it atop his shoulder. “Hey, Valentine,” she murmured, and he turned his head so he could look at her. She looked at him gently, and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. “You’re not going in there alone. I’ll be with you.”

He breathed out shakily, but the detective managed to keep his hands from trembling as he looked out at the Brotherhood of Steel base. It didn’t look too intimidating at this moment, the blue of the sky giving it an almost optimistic look as the detective tried to recall and picture what the airport was like in its’ hayday.

“Do you think the people who made this airport ever thought it would be used as a military base 200 years later?”

“Nick, anything was used as a government base if it benefited them.” Nora raised a brow at him. “All that patriotic stuff about being proud of your country and unifying was all propaganda shit.”

Nick looked at her, taken aback by this sudden and passionate insistence on how the times were before. “You’re pretty passionate on the subject,” he pried.

Nora cast a sidelong glance at him, an emotion close to annoyance shimmering through her, but not directed at him. She rolled her eyes. “I’ve just . . . seen too much. All the Vault-Tec BS, the food shortages, the government experiments and endless evidence that the ones running the country only cared about themselves.” Nora frowned. “It’s enough to make the naivest person bitter.”

“Well they’re all dead, decaying, or ghoulified by now, anyway, if that’s any help,” Nick added at his own little attempt to lighten the conversation.

She smiled at that, her gaze significantly lightened. “Nicky, you always know just what to say.”

He grinned, and followed fast on her heels as she started to approach the building. “Let’s go get ‘em,” she said. The only sign she had taken a recent injury was the slight guard at her right side; her arm lingered just a little too close than what would be normal.

Nick was surprised, grateful, and wary all at once when the Brotherhood clones didn’t shoot him on sight as he trailed behind the headstrong Nora. She walked with her head held high with an authoritative gleam in her eye that told them not to dare mess with her. The detective wondered what it would be like to have that kind of power over people without even needing to say a word, and decided he was probably better off not having it.

None of the armored shells made a snide comment about Nick, at least not within his hearing range, but he did see a few of them pause suspiciously or watch him obviously as he walked close to Nora.

Personally, Nick thought she was amazing. If Nora gave any inclination that the Brotherhood’s response (and lack there of) bothered her, she didn’t show it. It had taken Nick years to master that kind of poker face, and it deepened his insight on the woman he had come to call ‘partner.’ He wondered how often she had subjected him to her blank face without him realizing it, and decided it would be better not to think about that. An idea like that would drive any man crazy with uncertainty, even Nick, so he closed it up and shelved it away in his mind to never return to again (if he could help it).

Before long, they were clambering up into the Vertibird. Nora took the lead and offered him a hand up, which is when the first complaint was made in a wordless snort of disapproval by the pilot. The mask on Nora’s face cracked just a bit, revealing her irritation as her brow twitched, but a squeeze from Nick’s hand as he sat in the copter smoothed it back out. She returned his comforting gesture in thanks, and let their hands part ways.

An elbow nudged into his side, and Nick turned at Nora’s prompting to meet her gaze. She had a devious grin splitting her face, and she asked over the roar of the Vertibird’s roters. “How many Vertibirds does it take for the Brotherhood of Steel to send so they can actually help the Commonwealth?”

At first, Nick thought she was asking a genuine question, then beamed when he realized she was making a joke. “I don’t know, what?” he called, hoping his voice wasn’t totally drowned out so she could hear him.

Nora smiled excitedly as she answered, “Nobody knows – they keep blowing up!”

Nick laughed, and just like that, the tension this place brought on Nick was gone, replaced by the solidarity of knowing that Nora had his back. More than just a partner, she was there to make sure nothing bad happened to him during this little adventure.

One of the Brotherhood soldiers on the Vertibird saw the two of them laughing, and frowned at the synth detective. Nick only grinned wider.

(**)

The first trash can decided to voice his trash opinion when the two detectives walked along the catwalk before entering the airship.

“Disgusting.”

Nick didn’t bother looking in the direction of the insult, but he saw how fast Nora’s head spun. Her eyes were calculating as she frowned, and Nick thought she might be dedicating the person to memory. She glanced towards Nick, as if waiting for him to say something, and the detective knew that she would if he didn’t. Either way, he still had a comeback prepared as he replied, “Not much of a sight, yourself.”

The Brotherhood guard standing watch was quiet, and it was only because of Nick’s auditory receivers that he heard the sputtering behind the microphone at all.

Nick smiled in a mocking, subdued manner. “Stunned speechless, I see. Maybe next time you’ll think before you open that mouth.”

The pair entered the airship before the guard’s brain would catch up with his mouth and escalate the situation, and while Nick worried he might get Nora in trouble, her ecstatic smile made it all worth it.

“I won’t get you in trouble, will I?” he asked.

She led him around the bend of the main room to an observation deck. “Nick, please. If you get me in trouble for that mouth, I might thank you.”

He grinned wickedly. “Guess I really got lucky and picked a good one in you, didn’t I?”

“Oh believe me we are just getting started,” Nora said, but then she stopped as her attention diverted away to the front where he stood. The leader of the Brotherhood of Steel himself, Arthur Maxson. Nick went quiet, even as his chest burned with immediate hatred.

Nora looked toward the imposing figure of Arthur Maxson standing at the peak of the observation room, and Nick watched as her authoritative mask fell back over her face. She strut smartly into the room with Nick behind her, and stood crisply to attention. “Sir! Paladin Connors reporting for the All Back.”

Maxson turned to her, his face lined with deep frown lines. “Paladin Connors. Good; I have been waiting for your arrival to-mmngh!”

In typical Brotherhood fashion, the man had positively frozen in shock at the sight of Nick standing so casually behind Nora. It took everything Nick had not to burst out laughing as he looked at the man’s sternly perplexed expression. In the Elder’s eyes, Paladin Nora Connors was fraternizing with dirty, low, abomination-to-mankind, disgusting-

“Paladin Connors!” the man jutted out stiffly, his lips pursed tightly together. “Explain yourself; now!”

From where Nick stood, he didn’t have a clear view of Nora’s expression, but god what he would have given to see it, because her voice lilted in false innocence. “What do you mean, Elder?” she asked. She even tilted her head slightly to the side, as if confused by the order. “What would you like me to explain?”

“Explain at once why this abomination of mankind is accompanying you!” he snapped. The man’s shoulders looked so tense that Nick thought they might snap, and while an insult sat at the tip of Nick’s tongue, he chose to practice restraint as he allowed Nora to take the lead on this one. This wasn’t exactly his terf, anyway. Not with this madman.

“This is Detective Nick Valentine, sir,” Nora replied promptly, and she turned her body slightly to one side when mentioning the detective. “I require his expertise in his field to help solve a murder. We believe it involves a wealthy psychopath and a famous tennis player that met on a train.”

Elder Maxson frowned as Nick used all his self-control to keep his eyebrows from shooting straight up his forehead as his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. The detective pressed his lips together thinly to hide the fact that he was trying as hard as possible not to laugh, and looked to the Brotherhood Elder when the stiff man addressed him. “Okay. That sounds . . . rather strange.”

“Amazing that strangers on a train would meet as they did,” Nora supplemented, not one trace of amusement on her expression as she spoke completely deadpan. Nick faked a cough to shield his swelling laughter. How was she so good at this?! He would have broken after the first line.

The Elder seemed disconcerted by the whole thing, not understanding the reference, and he shifted his stance while coldly regarding the synth. “Well, I suppose that is acceptable, but it is not right for a member of the Brotherhood, and a Paladin, no less, to work in conjunction with an abomination on mankind. You are to be rid of this companion at once.”

Nick waited for one tense moment on what Nora would do, and of what he thought she would say, he was surprised by her blunt, “You know I’m not going to do that, Maxson.” The playful tone in her voice fell away, and she sounded more like herself, and almost sad, or disappointed.

The detective looked sharply at the young man, glancing between him and Nora swiftly. The Elder huffed out a sigh through his nose, and his brows knit together in frustration. “It was worth a try, I suppose.” His lip twisted at one corner in disgust when he looked back at Nick, then turned to Nora. “At the very least, don’t stay here for long if you’re taking that thing with you. You’re going to make a poor name for ourselves.”

Nick saw Nora’s hand tighten at her side for one moment before it relaxed. A telling sign. The detective watched her, feeling thoughtful as Nora nodded once. “Fine. Now what did you want me here for, Maxson?”

The man turned in place so he could gaze at the Commonwealth far below. “As you know, our resources are growing sparse due to our extended time spent in the Commonwealth. With the Institute no longer a threat, we have greater responsibility even now to help the people of this place get back on their feet after so many years of travesty.”

Nick frowned, narrowing his eyes a bit. More like they need to take advantage of the fact that the Commonwealth has no apparent force besides the Minutemen, which aren’t exactly a trained army that could take on someone like the Brotherhood of Steel . . .

So far what this man was saying made absolutely zero sense in Nick’s mind, but he knew that whatever the Elder had to say, there was no guarantee that Nora would follow his orders. The Elder went on, “You are, without a doubt, the greatest resource we have here. You already have an esteemed reputation with the people of the Commonwealth, as well as a wealth of knowledge and experience with the creatures and people of the land. All of which is why it is so important for you to accomplish the task I am assigning you.”

Both detectives remained still and quiet, waiting for whatever the Elder had to say. The man’s shoulders lifted and fell with a sigh. From where Nick stood slightly behind Nora, he could see her folded hands clench nervously behind her. Nick carefully moved his arm so he could rest his hand at the small of her back, his palm barely brushing her fingers. The movement must have been enough to bring her some comfort, because she gently touched his palm in return, fingers curling.

Maxson’s voice cut through the quiet. “We need someone who’s resourceful and a clear leader to gather tribute from the people.”

Nora’s shoulders grew tense, like a rubber band about to snap in two. “What?” she asked, her words snapped out from gritted teeth.

“Don’t give me that tone, Paladin,” the Elder said, pivoting to look at her over his shoulder. His cold steel eyes were unforgiving. “We are the Commonwealth’s only hope for mankind against the filth that pollutes their land.”

Nick scoffed under his breath. What about the Minutemen, asshole? Or Diamond City, Bunker Hill, Sanctuary? Hell, even Goodneighbor is giving humanity a chance, except you only see these places as hovels that low-lives dwell in while you sit all nice in your airship where they can’t touch you.

Neither paid Nick any attention as Nora’s crisp voice came back in turn, “You want me to help the Brotherhood steal from the hard-working settlers of the Commonwealth?” Her voice was as sharp and as unforgiving as his, and she ignored his order to drop her tone.

Maxson’s eyebrow twitched. “It’s not stealing; it’s . . . tithing. Like in a church. Payment and fulfillment of our resources so we can continue to save the Commonwealth from themselves. We’re doing them a service, and should be recompensed. Simple math, really.”

“Oh, don’t give me that holier-than-though bullshit, Maxson!” Nora spat, all pretense of civility lost between them. Whatever line there was had suddenly been lost, and Nick felt something curl pleasantly in his stomach as Nora tore into the Elder. “You know what other group does that – calls it tribute?” She paused, and Nick wondered if it was for dramatic effect. “Raiders. Raiders collect from the people of the Commonwealth – call it tribute – food in exchange for their safety from them else they risk death.” Nora frowned heavily. “Is that what you want, Elder? You want me to go down there and threaten innocent and honest farmers, that if they refuse, I have rights to slaughter them – like a Raider?!”

Nick could have kissed her right then and there.

The 23-year-old bristled. “Do you not understand what’s at risk here, Paladin?” the Elder asked, turning towards her now, his face seething with rage as his teeth ground together. “Without resources like food and water, I could have Brotherhood members going to bed hungry, and that could lead to weakness if they are not up to full strength. Our presence in the Commonwealth could then dwindle as we’re overcome by evils of this land. We might have to return to the Capital Wasteland, and leave this place as diseased as it is.”

Nora’s voice held not a shrapnel of mercy or caring as she bit out, “Then leave.”

The Elder’s mouth turned down in fury. “You seem to be unable to grasp the situation we are in, Paladin. But if you are unable to meet this standard, I have no problem stripping you of your rank of Paladin, and replacing you with someone who will be able to complete the assignment. Someone who wouldn’t be as soft-hearted to a bunch of spineless dirt farmers.”

A combination of cold rage and horror clenched in Nick’s gut, a sensation he didn’t know that he could still stimulate. His mouth tightened at the corners, and he didn’t stop the glare from forming over his face. The synth could have ripped the man apart viciously for threatening the people of the Commonwealth. Good people that only wanted to live their lives in safety with some little shred of happiness. He waited for Nora to tear into Maxson, but blinked in confusion as Nora’s voice came out as soft as ash drifting through the air.

“You will do no such thing,” she said, her voice filled with confidence, even as quiet as it was. Where did such self-assurance even come from?

“Oh really?” Maxson challenged. “And why not?”

“Because you forget that I’m not just some Paladin that you can order around to do you bidding, Arthur,” she snipped softly. Nick wished desperately that he could come around to her front to see her expression, but remained where he stood as Nora reminded the Elder. “I’m the General of the Minutemen; I have over 30 settlements at my bidding that will respond to my call to arms if needed, and I know they are armed to the teeth. If you so much as take one tato from a settlement as ‘tithes,’ it only takes one word from my people to call the rise to arms against the Brotherhood.”

It was either incredibly brave of Nora to make such a threat, or horribly stupid. The Brotherhood was a driving force, regardless of what Nick thought of their bigoted beliefs, and making a threat to their incredible arsenal wasn’t something to take lightly, especially against a less-prepared militia of Commonwealth farmers. Not to mention it wouldn’t exactly shine well with Arthur’s superiors if he returned to the Capital Wasteland to report that the entire Commonwealth rose against them in rebellion. It would make him look as if he were incapable of leading.

Maxson appeared to think the same as he pressed his lips together, and Nick thought his eyebrows might dig so far down his face that they would fall off. “Is that a threat, Mrs. Connors?”

“It’s Ms. Connors, thank you,” she replied tartly with a nod. “And yes,” she added, “it is.”

The Elder took a moment to take this in, his gaze clipped and stern “Well,” he said, and Nick knew there was a returning threat sitting at the end of the man’s tongue, “I know you believe what would happen should you choose to make well on your threat to us.”

Nora tilted her head carefully to one side, the movement barely perceivable, but it was there. Her tone dripped with condescending annoyance. “You really think I don’t know that, Maxson? But do you know what would happen if you chose to take up arms against the Minutemen? What that would look like to the Commonwealth?”

He stayed quiet, considering her words, and Nick had the sudden feeling of the breath being knocked out of him as victory went through his mechanical heart.

The Minutemen were the saviors of the Commonwealth, the faction that destroyed the Institute once and for all. If the Brotherhood were to take up arms against them, even the most bi-partisan of settlers, the strongest sympathizers with the Brotherhood would turn against them.

God, and if word got out that the Brotherhood was enemies with the woman who orchestrated the fall of the Institute? The one who pressed the button that set off the explosion to destroy such an evil organization . . . ?

It would be chaos. Absolute war, even worse than with the Institute.

The Elder seemed to understand the implications Nora was saying to him, and he absorbed her words thoughtfully as he plotted out what he would say in turn to her.

“And think how shameful it would be,” Nora said, twisting the dagger of her words even further, “for the Brotherhood branch in the Capital Wasteland to learn that the Commonwealth syndicate were chased off by the very settlers they were trying to protect and supposedly ‘save from themselves’.”

Maxson bristled indignantly, his lips curled into a soundless snarl. Nick knew with certainty that Nora had this man-child beat, and he smirked smugly, his fingers lightly tickling the spot at the small of her back. Her hand curled up discreetly to touch his, a smile in the gesture.

When he didn’t say anything further, Nora went in for the kill, “So, Elder Maxson, if you want this happy little crusade to keep going the way it is – with your men and women still alive – you’ll keep away from my settlers. If I get wind that a Brotherhood member so much as touched a tarberry without permission from a settler without paying for it fairly, you can be certain that I’ll take action.” Nick imagined emerald fire burning in her eyes. “Do not test me, Maxson.”

Arthur Maxson glared heavily at this subordinate woman, his mouth turned down in displeasure. “Fine,” he said through ground teeth. “But don’t come crying to me when the Minutemen aren’t strong enough to cleanse the Commonwealth.”

Cleanse the Commonwealth of what, exactly? Nick thought to himself bitterly.

Nora didn’t say anything to his barb, though, and instead allowed his words to glide off her like water down a duck’s back. “We’ll see about that, Arthur,” she said, her tone airy and uncaring about what he had to say. Some of the tension relaxed in her shoulders, and she went on with a decisive and authoritative tone, “I’ll come back in a week with a list of settlementsthat I’ve given permission for the Brotherhood to negotiate with. I’ll let the leaders know so they’ll be expecting you. There you can barter and trade for crops without the use of force. I’ll be receiving reports from each settlement, so I’ll know if any of the Brotherhood have gone back on what we’ve agreed upon.”

Nick thought this was too generous in his eyes, but it was fair. Maxson glared on crankily, but said nothing. Nora pressed for a response. “Is that understood, Elder?”

The Elder grit his teeth, and Nick could have sung in relish to how this conversation had gone. Nora prompted again with a tone in her voice, “Elder?”

“Understood,” he growled, his voice snappy. After a beat of silence, he added grudgingly. “General.”

Was this Heaven? Was this real life? Nick felt light and airy like he was dreaming. This had to be some kind of alternate reality or something because there was no way Arthur Maxson just addressed Nora with respect as a person of equal rank to his, even if it was a bit forced.

General- Nick could have started singing right then and there.

Nora didn’t break her gaze from the leader of the Brotherhood. When he didn’t say anything further to her, she questioned, “Is that all?”

“You’re dismissed, Paladin. Just,” he huffed out a frustrated breath, his shoulders tense as he looked Nora up and down, “uphold our ideals, Connors. Don’t let the Commonwealth eat you up.”

“I’ll uphold my ideals, thank you.” And with that, Nora turned on her heel and strut out of the observation deck to go to the ladder that would lead them to the main deck of the ship below.

Nick went after her, and didn’t cast a backward glance to the Elder as he dutifully followed Nora. The destroyer of the Institute said nothing to Nick, and he chose to wait as he climbed up the ladder. Near the top, she offered a hand to him, which he took gratefully.

As soon as the synth detective stood at Nora’s side, she let out a forced huff of air, her expression finally twisting into one that showed how annoyed she was. Her lips pursed in irritation, and her cheeks were puffed out from holding in so much air.

“Pretty impressive, Counselor,” Nick said with a smile; his hand went to rest at her shoulder to provide some means of stability. “I’ve never seen anyone talk down a Brotherhood official like you did.”

The nickname earned him a very small smile in return, but it wasn’t there for long before she was worrying her lip again at the thought of what just transpired. “You can never tell with the Brotherhood, though,” she said quietly, wary to keep her tone of voice lowered in case of anyone listening in. “Even if we kept him at bay for now, who knows how long it will be before he grows desperate enough to steal from the people, anyway? Or maybe a new Elder to lead them who doesn’t care about any of it as long as he gets his way?”

“Hey,” Nick called to her softly, and stepped in her line of sight so she could look up and meet his glowing yellow eyes. His finger went to touch her chin and tilt her head to gaze at him. “It does no good to dwell on what may happen. What matters is the present. We’ll deal with the bad pitches as they come, alright?”

A bit of light returned to her eyes; she tilted her head forward to let the crown of her head bump against his chest as she stepped into his space. “Thanks, Nick,” she said.

“Not a problem,” he rumbled, and pulled her into a careful embrace before releasing her. “You just keep your chin up, alright?”

“Alright,” she agreed.

Nick didn’t give a single damn about what any watching Brotherhood brainwashed soldier had to say or think, so with his hand on Nora’s face, he pulled her in for one burning kiss against her mouth. With a few steps, he guided the both of them into the dark shadows in the underbelly of the ship, one hand on her hip.

He took pleasure in the sound of her breath catching, and smiled against her lips as she returned his kiss in full. Her hands went up to grab his wrists along her head, and broke the kiss so she could tilt her head up and look at him. “What was that for, Nick?” she asked.

The detective shrugged a little, but the embarrassed smile gave away how bashful he was. “I just . . . I just felt like kissing the woman who put Arthur Maxson in his place with a few well-placed words.”

She grinned at him, smirking with a coy eyebrow raised, “Oh, you like a woman that can craft some well-placed words, huh?”

The detective laughed and went in for another kiss, chuckling under his breath and tugging teasingly at her lips with his teeth, “Of course, doll,” he growled, and stepped back with a teasing wink as he took in her bright and flushed face, “But we can work more of that out later.” She grinned, pleased.

Nick let his hand drift down to hold hers, and frowned in concern when he saw her flinch as she lowered her arms. He suddenly thought of her wound, and decided to ask, “You said there was a medic on this ship?”

Nora paused and looked at him with interest. “Why? Do you . . . is something wrong? Is a medic the best that can help you, I mean-”

“No, no,” Nick said, and shook his head, smirking in amusement. “I mean for you. To check your wound.”

“Oh!” Understanding cleared across Nora’s face. “Yeah, I guess we should.” Her head turned to look at the Main Deck area. From what Nick could see, there were 3 bedrooms that encircled a ladder which led to the lower deck, and a long hallway that stretched to the very end of the airship. He guessed that on either side of the hallway were rooms filled with supplies or services the Brotherhood required.

Nora gestured to the hallway. “This way, Nick. Stick with me, okay?”

“Not a problem,” he said in turn, and walked close at Nora’s heels, comforted immediately by being in her presence.

About as soon as Nora stepped into the med room, Nick was met with hostile glares and sneers, despite being so close to a Paladin. The medical officer turned to the duo, his sharp eyes regarding each of them critically before asking sharply, “Yes? How can I help you?” Nick made note that he asked the question to Nora, choosing to ignore the synth.

Nora went to the hem of her coat, rolling it up so she could show the dressed wound. “I was shot today in the field, doc. Was wondering if you could take a look at it for me before I go out again.”

Whatever was in the medic’s mind about being judgmental towards Nick seemed to flee as he went around Nora’s side, his gaze thoughtful as he looked at the wound. “Hm, let’s see then.” Gentle hands went to pry aside the dressing, and Nick stepped dutifully to the side so the man would have some room.

Once revealed, Nick felt relief soar through him. There was only minimal bleeding on the gauze pad, and the wound was closed, scabbed over darkly with only a thin line of red surrounding it.

Nick released a sigh, relieved, causing the doc to look at him over his shoulder thoughtfully. “You do this, synth?”

For a moment, it took Nick a second to piece together what the man meant, but when he did he looked at the medic incredulously. “No!” he refused, insulted. “God, no! Of course not!”

“Nick was there to help me!” Nora snapped. “He shot the raiders that did this to me and kept them from doing any worse damage. Show some respect.”

The man grunted, then straightened his back as he placed the dressing back over the wound. “It’s healing just fine. What did you use?”

“A stimpak after the bullet was pulled out,” Nora said, and pulled down the hem of her shirt. “Just this morning.”

He hummed, and nodded. “Well it’s doing fine right now. No signs of infection. Just don’t open the wound and you should be fine. Good night’s rest will certainly help.”

Nora nodded in understanding, and reached into her pocket so she could pull out the proper amount of caps. “The usual?” she asked, and revealed a small bundle of caps in a cloth that was tied with a string.

The medic nodded. “45.”

The bundle of caps sailed through the air and into the man’s waiting hands. He thanked Nora in turn, “Take care of yourself, Paladin.”

Nora chose to stay silent, and instead walked out of the room with Nick at her side.

It wasn’t a far walk, as they went to the room across the hallway from the medical room. Similar in size, it was cluttered with books and papers stacked from hell to breakfast rather than stocked with medical equipment and supplies. A bookish man wearing spectacles stood, holding a clipboard and pen as he took inventory.

Nora went to exchange words with the man, chatting casually as she dug into her bag to bring forth a stack of papers as thick as a dictionary. Nick watched with quiet interest as the bookkeeper’s eyes bugged out of his skull, and he went for his pockets to retrieve an appropriate amount of caps in exchange.

Nick watched, pleased, as Nora walked away from the exchange several dozens of caps heavier, and grinned as she jut her head to the doorway. “Come on, Valentine,” she said. “We’re outta here.”

The detective blinked, his expression giving away his surprise as he went to Nora’s side, following her closely. “Oh, so soon?” his words dripped with sarcasm. “We were just getting acquainted with everyone here.”

“Yeah, haha,” she said. “Let’s just go before-aagh!”

While looking at Nick while talking, Nora missed the scribe walking towards them both while carrying a tower’s worth of papers, causing the two to collide. The papers went flying this way and that. Nora went sprawling to the floor, and Nick was instantly at her side to help her back up, worried especially because of her still-healing injury.

“Shoot! I’m so sorry!” the stranger said in turn. The voice was distinctly feminine and reminded Nick of his kind-hearted secretary. The synth cast a glance to the young woman, who hastily scrambled to pick up her mess of papers. She was wearing some kind of orange suit with a strapped on cover for her head, which Nick took to mean that she was a Scribe like the one he and Nora encountered earlier. “I’m still getting used to this space,” she rambled on like a busy magpie. “I guess I need to look out for where I’m walking.”

Nick said nothing, but stilled at Nora’s side when her voice pried, “Scribe Haylen?”

The young woman paused, then looked up. Her blue eyes widened as her mouth opened in shock. “Knight – I mean, Paladin – Connors?!”

Nora rolled her eyes, bending at the waist to retrieve some of the fallen papers. “You know it’s Nora, Haylen. What are you doing here? Bringing some reports to HQ or something?”

The woman scoffed, taking the papers from Nora so she could scuff them into a semi-organized pile. “Heh, I wish. No, I’ve been permanently stationed at the Prydwen for now, myself and Rhys included.” Nick saw how she looked down in an almost guilty manner when she said that, and his suspicion grew – though he didn’t know have an idea of what it could be.

Nora and Haylen stood, and Nick took pleasure in how his partner caught wind of her guilt. He always liked seeing how intuitive she was. “Is it just a re-stationing, or is it. . . something else?”

The young woman was quiet; the synth saw how some of her hair fell out from her hood, the color a startling and vibrant red. She tucked it back under the stiff lines of her hood. “Something else,” she finally admit, her voice quiet. Haylen looked up quickly at Nora before looking away. “Ever since Paladin Danse-” her voice suddenly cut off, her throat closing from an overwhelming sense of emotion as the young woman looked away. Nick widened his eyes and glanced to Nora in silence, who looked at Haylen with a level, even frown. Her lips pulled taut across her mouth, and Nora appeared to be restraining herself.

Not noticing any of this, Scribe Haylen cleared her throat and let her words clamber out, “Rhys and I were stationed out here. They’re worried that we may rebel or be linked to the Institute somehow because of what he was.”

Nick looked away, and didn’t stop the scoff that went out from his lips. At his side, Nora’s voiced her concern. “That doesn’t seem fair; they have no reason to question your loyalty to the Brotherhood.”

Scribe Haylen offered a sad smile. “Well, apparently they do, because I’m still here instead of out there.” She sounded wistful as she said it, and her eyes darted to the side in thought.

“It sure is safer up here, there’s at least that,” Nick found himself offering, not entirely sure why he wanted to help bring comfort to this woman – a member of the Brotherhood, no less.

Haylen considered Nick for a moment from the corner of her eyes, both women surprised by his gesture of words. The Scribeoffered a small smile at him, though, and Nick took that as a good sign. “Who’s your friend, Pala – I mean, Nora?”

Nora made a side step towards Nick and put one arm around his shoulders. “This is Nick Valentine, my partner.”

To Nick’s growing surprise, the Scribe thrust out a hand to him so he could shake it. She didn’t flinch when he reached for her with his metal claw, and something of a smile crossed her face when he did. “Um, nice to meet you, Mr. Valentine.”

The detective chuckled. “Mr. Valentine was my father; Nick is just fine.”

She looked a bit strained when he said that. “Sure thing,” she said anyway, emulating as much warmth as she could. “I’ll remember that. You and Nora traveled for long together, now?”

“He is my partner,” Nora said, stepping in to help defend the detective. “We solve cases together. He’s a detective.”

Sudden understanding went over Haylen’s face. “Oh, you guys are detective partners! I guess I was a bit slow to catch up.”

Nick and Nora chuckled politely, though the synth felt something plummet through his chest. Scribe Haylen thought they mean that they were romantic partners.

Which wasn’t technically false, but still something the two weren’t crazy about spreading around, especially on an airship filled to the brim with synth-hating lunatics.

Nora smiled tightly. “That’s right,” she said.

Haylen smiled to Nick in turn, and it seemed genuine enough, if not a little awkward as she directly addressed the synth. “Well, I’m glad to hear that Nora has found someone good enough to stick with. He the last one, Nora?”

“The ‘last one’ huh?” Nick asked, amused as he looked back to his partner, who burned red. “How many have there been, Detective Connors?” he asked, teasing.

She glared at him, though he knew it was in jest when he saw the delightful burning red of her face. “It-you – not a lot!” she spluttered.

Haylen rolled her eyes playfully, and Nick was reminded of sisters during the Pre-War era that would fight over boys and having to share clothes. “Oh, please! You had so many! The sniper guy, weird glasses guy, that pretty reporter girl, oh and the woman with the accent! She looked like someone who got in a lot of fights- I thought for sure the ghoul in the red coat and tricorn hat would be the one you settled with, but I guess government authority figures are out and detectives are in, huh?” Haylen winked at Nick, who could have blushed from what the Scribe insinuated. “What number does that place you, Nick?” she asked, grinning.

“Hay-len!” Nora whined, and buried her face in her hands.

Nick couldn’t lower his smile at the playful teasing. “I think six, if my counting is right. Not too shabby, I think.”

“I agree,” Haylen said with a laugh, shifting her pile of papers to her other arm for maximum comfort.

Something seemed to catch Nora’s eyes, because she placed a hand lightly on Haylen’s shoulder. “Could you guys excuse me for a sec? I’ll be right back.” Nora turned heel and tossed a wink at Nick over her shoulder before she sprinted down the hallway toward the opposite end of the ship without looking back or slowing down.

The pair, suddenly alone, fell into an awkward, quiet place between them. Nick tried to lighten the atmosphere, “She must have forgotten something,” he excused for his partner, tone a bit stunted.

Haylen smiled warmly, “Paladin Connors can be like that sometimes, but she’s already got so much on her plate that it’s expected.” The scribe laughed lightly, and she looked to Nick with a friendly expression, “How long are you two going to be on the Prydwen?”

It was a harmless question, and Nick was appalled to hear such a kind tone from a Brotherhood member. “We’re leaving just now, actually,” Nick answered amicably. “Nora came in to report to Maxson, but we have other business to attend to, uh, back on solid ground.”

Haylen smiled in a friendly manner, and it would have been difficult to miss the jealousy that flashed a bit in her eyes, and she asked resignedly, “Any business in particular?”

Nick paused in consideration for one moment before replying, “Angel hunting, actually.” He hoped Haylen was someone he could trust, and it wasn’t a secret or anything that he and Nora were tracking down the nefarious and elusive faction. Besides, there was something trustworthy about the wide-eyed Scribe, and her tone was too light and filled with kindness to be someone who could back-stab the people she was allied to.

And if Nora was an ally to this young woman, she was someone Nick could trust (more or less), regardless of the faction she was in league with.

The Scribe frowned in thought, “Aren’t – Aren’t the Angels only a myth? Just a rumor spread through the citizens?”

“Apparently not,” Nick said, and wished he could light a cigarette on the ship to distract his thoughts and to avoid making eye contact. “We’ve been trying to track down the leader for a while – no such luck, though.”

“I mean I bet,” she empathized, her eyes widened with awe at the thought of the feat Nick and Nora had set out to accomplish. “I imagine it’s a lot like trying to capture smoke, or stop a river from flowing. Any luck so far?”

Nick shrugged off-handedly. “We caught one of the snipers who’s in league with them, but they crafted an escape and got him out before we could really learn anything else about them.” Nick tried not to let their situation sound totally desolate when he added, “But at least now we have confirmation they exist. We’ll get ‘em, and justice always prevails, in the end. I know we’re getting closer.” They had a lead, after all. If they could track down and learn more about this MacCready guy, it might yield some better results.

It was hard not to let it get to him sometimes, though. Finding the Angels was definitely a priority, but investigating such an elaborate faction yielded little results, and it was easy to get distracted by so many settlements and people who needed immediate help.

He and Nora’s agenda was thinning, though, and Nick expected that finding the Angels would quickly become their main objective to hone in on.

Haylen sighed, “Well, shoot. Hopefully something will turn up.” The young woman looked thoughtful for a moment, and Nick thought she wasn’t going to speak, but then she chirped, “You know about the signal grenades, right?”

Nick waited for a second to sort through his memories. “Uh, can’t say I have,” he admit.

“Nora – I mean – Paladin Connors received some signal grenades from us that emit blue smoke. If she’s in a bind and sets one off, any nearby Brotherhood can come to provide support.” She smiled in encouragement. “I just – I worry about her sometimes. Paladin Connors has done great things for the Brotherhood, and I know she would be an incredible asset if she could apply herself more.”

Perhaps a bit embarrassed from being so emboldened, Haylen looked down shyly at her feet. Nick raised a critical eyebrow. “She doesn’t apply herself?” he echoed.

“Well I mean -” Haylen tried to defend herself, but faltered a bit and shrugged sadly. “People talk. Especially about Paladin Connors.”

Nick frowned. “Bad things?”

Haylen hesitated before she amended. “They just. . . they talk. Everyone knows that Paladin Connor’s situation when she rose through the ranks of the Brotherhood was uncommon.”

“How so?”

The Scribe looked at Nick pointedly as she said in a tone like it was obvious. “She had been with us for several months and got promoted to Paladin.” At Nick’s clueless look, Haylen supplemented, “Nora started as an initiate. From initiate, there are a few higher levels under ‘initiate,’ and then you can start working your way up to Knight. Then from Knight, a few variances later, you can become a Paladin.”

Nick remained quiet, having an idea of where this was going, and Haylen’s tone made it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. “This whole process usually takes years to accomplish. Just going from Initiate to Senior Initiate can take months, and that’s only if you have talent and instincts that are second to none.”

The detective maintained his neutral expression, and he filled in the gaps as Haylen drew them. “There are some members that are bitter towards Nora for rising through the ranks so quickly.”

Haylen nodded her head, anxiously diverting her eyes two ways. “There are some. Not everyone but some who don’t feel like Nora has earned her place as Paladin so quickly. They think something or. . . someone else’s influence might be involved.”

Understanding flooded Nick’s processors as memories that weren’t his passed through his mind’s eye. Watching as women climbed the ladder of success in the Old World, how whispers would rise up as special skills or personal favors became the go-to excuse as to how any women would gain even a grain of power in the professional world.

“Sleeping with the boss.”

“Dames will do anything for a promotion or a raise.”

“Man, wish I was a boss so I could have a bunch of dames chasing after me like that.”

“Slut.”

“Whore.”

“Fucking bitches.”

“They think she’s. . .” Nick swallowed as hot fury coursed through his sockets and wires. “They think she’s . . . involved with Maxson?” His respect for Nora kept him from saying it more bluntly, but all Nick felt was a blinding rage that people would talk about Nora in such a way.

Haylen nodded seriously. “I know it’s not true, but people talk. And it doesn’t help that Paladin Connors is known for being . . . flimsy when it comes to following Maxson’s orders. It just makes the rumors more believable.” Nick frowned, and Haylen sighed. “And some people.. well, there’s a rumor floating around the ship, and some are saying that Elder Maxson is . . . one of them.”

All of Nick’s thoughts and gears ground to a sudden halt at that revelation. He opened his mouth, stupefied, then closed it when his synthetic vocal cords didn’t work. He tried again. “They, they what-” He checked Haylen’s expression, “They think Maxson is a synth?”

“Shhshh!” Haylen hissed, her eyes wide as she stepped closer to Nick, throwing her hands out to stop him. The detective took a step back from her sudden proximity, his optics staring at her in confusion as Haylen looked at the detective sharply. She looked around worriedly before glaring at Nick accusingly. “Don’t go around saying that so loudly!” Realizing their closeness, Haylen stepped back a pace, and had the grace to look embarrassed under Nick’s withering stare.

“Is there something . . . wrong if Maxson were to be a synth?” Nick asked, his voice incredulous in a mocking manner. While Nick would be over the moon at the irony of Maxson being a synth – god if only he would be so lucky – he knew it would be absolute chaos within the Brotherhood ranks.

Haylen looked absolutely appalled of herself when Nick brazenly challenged the Brotherhood’s beliefs, and she looked away guiltily. “I mean, to me, no. Not after-” she swallowed, “not after former Paladin Danse’s . . . execution.”

Execution? Nick blinked, confused as he let his thoughts spin through his processors. She thinks he’s dead. She thinks that the synth, former Paladin Danse currently residing in Sanctuary . . . is dead.

. . . Why?!

Nick maintained his expression in as neutral a position as possible. This was Nora’s ally, he had to remind himself. If there was some reason for Nora to keep this Scribe Haylen in the dark about Danse’s current position and state-of-life, that was her choice.

Anything beyond that was out of his scope of practice.

It didn’t seem moral in his mind, to make this woman suffer for whatever reason.

. . . But it wouldn’t be fair of him to assume to know the situation of what was going on between her and Nora.

Not that it meant he wouldn’t interrogate it to Nora later.

Feeling the social pressure of having to reply to Haylen, he cleared his throat in a very human-manner and spoke to her lowly. “I-I’m sorry for your loss. Danse was close to you, I presume?”

Haylen nodded, some tears in her eyes. She reached up to frantically rub them away. “He trained me, actually. When I was an initiate. Took me under his wing.” She sniffled a little, “I miss him.”

Nick nearly felt his heart twist, though it wasn’t there. Unable to let someone go on crying, Valentine offered any comforting words he could bring. “It’s . . . hard losing people that you care about, especially the ones you look up to.”

Scribe Haylen gave a small smile, and nodded. “It is,” she echoed, her eyes red from her tears. The Brotherhood Scribe seemed to suddenly understand the situation she was in, and she wiped hastily at her eyes. “Excuse me,” she said, turning her body a little away from Nick. “I don’t mean to get so emotional.”

“It’s not a problem,” Nick said a big grudgingly, suddenly perturbed by the atmosphere of the discussion. What reason would Nora have to keep such a heavy secret from the Scribe? Was she really not that trustworthy?

Speak of the devil, Nora suddenly appeared behind Haylen’s back, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey!” she said, her body slowing to a stop from her jog down the hallway. The Paladin looked between the two of them, “Sorry about that. I had some things I had to drop off for some caps.”

When neither immediately replied, Nora frowned a bit out of curiosity. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“It’s fine, doll. We were just chatting,” Nick replied smoothly when he saw the glimmer in Haylen’s gaze. “Get everything sorted out?”

Nora nodded sharply. “Yup! All done. We should be clear to go, now.”

Scribe Haylen nodded in turn, and Nick thought that she looked a little sad, though she tried to smile as optimistically as possible. “Well, I wish you two the best.” Her smile grew a little more. “You too, Mr. Valentine. Take care of our girl out there, will you?”

The detective chuckled, and decided he liked this scribe. “I will if she will,” he returned.

Haylen smiled, looked away, then bustled past the two so she could go down the hallway. “I’ll see you two sometime later, then! Take care, alright?”

“Of course! You too!” Nora called, going back to look at Nick, who frowned in consideration. The feeling of Nora’s hand brushing his brought him back, and he looked back at her curiously, caught in the smile that lined her features. “Ready to go, Valentine?” she asked softly.

His hand squeezed hers gently. “Lead the way, Nora.”

Chapter Text

“So what was the deal with that?” Nick asked as he walked at Nora’s side casually. With the Boston Airport and the Brotherhood of Steel behind them, the detective felt an immediate sense of freedom to be able to speak his mind and talk openly with his partner.

“With what?” Nora asked, curious.

Usually, Nick would presume that Nora was stalling to answer his question, but he heard a note of genuine confusion in her voice, so he supplemented, “With Haylen. She doesn’t seem to know what happened to Danse, but we know that he’s cozy up in Sanctuary.” Nick paused, “So why not tell her?”

Nora looked at Nick oddly, “Haylen does know, Nick.”

Nick turned his gaze promptly to Nora, and she went on to explain from his look he gave her, “Yeah!” she said. “As soon as Maxson excused me and ordered me not to tell anyone about Danse’s true nature or location, I went to let Haylen know.” Nora’s expression softened. “She cares about him. I had to let her know what was happening so she wouldn’t think her mentor and leader was dead.”

The synth detective nodded amiably. “Fair enough,” he allowed. He wondered if Nora might fear judgment from him, so Nick was quick to amend, “I don’t blame you, doll. I would have done the same thing without a thought. She seems like a genuine person who deserves to know what happened to a loved one.”

The woman at his side deflated her shoulders a bit in relief, “Thanks, Nick. I was hoping you would say that. I wasn’t sure what you would say.”

“What?” he asked smugly, a bit of a smirk at the edge of his mouth. “You thought I was gonna go blarb to Maxson and pester him about all these questions? Nah, you’re way more fun to interrogate.”

Nora rolled her eyes, and turned her way back to the road. The sun was nearly set in the westward part of the sky, and both knew that they would make it to Diamond City before it would be dark for too long. . .

Silence fell between the two while walking. Nick followed just a half-pace behind Nora, his eyes trained on her to monitor and check every movement she made. If she darted to any stray junk on the side of the road, or went to pluck a mutfruit caught in her line of sight, he was there to witness it. There was hardly any hesitation in her movement, no cringing or guarding her injured side.She seemed to have recovered well from their gunfight, earlier.

They were about halfway back, when Nick finally braved up the courage to address his companion. “Hey, Nora-?”

She turned back to look at him over her shoulder. “Yeah Nick?” she asked, and something in her voice and in her eyes was resigned as they trekked toward the inevitable. Nora saw the solemnity in his expression, and she straightened her back. “Something wrong?”

Nick’s mouth turned down, and he shook his head. “No, doll. Nothing wrong. I just. . .” He heaved a sigh, then looked at her as his voice dropped to a humble and reserved tone. “I wanted to apologize. For earlier.” He sighed. “Our fight, before.”

Nora stayed quiet, and she waited for him to continue. He went on, “It wasn’t fair of me to . . . speak to you the way I did. You’re a woman with her own history and her own past, and it’s not right of me to try to erase the feelings you have.” The detective pressed his mouth together in shame, and he swallowed nervously. “I was jealous,” he admit; he refused to look at Nora. “It’s been so long that I’ve had anything to claim for myself that I -” Nick clenched his hands at his side. “I forgot about your place in all this. We’re on a two-way street, you and me. And I forgot that you’re part of this as much as I am.”

His partner, while quiet, spoke up at last. “You have nothing to apologize for, Nick.” While typically brazen and bold when speaking, Nora let her voice slip into one that was soft and gentle. “I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to have a super great reaction after telling you that I also love another man.”

Nick found the courage in him somewhere to lift his head and look at Nora. She looked about as nervous as he felt, her eyebrows screwed up and her face twisted in uncertainty. She held her hands together in front of her, clenched and worrying as she gazed at him. The synth detective looked down quietly, and uttered, “I . . . won’t get in the way between you and John. I know that he’s a good man, I’ve always known that. But I also know you’re the kind of person who doesn’t thrive off disloyalty.”

He saw her eyes shining with emotion. She choked out, “Thanks, Nick.” Tearful, she wiped at the corner of her eyes, and sniffled a little. “That means a lot to me.”

Valentine smiled a little at her in turn. A subdued shiver passed through him as Nora went on to say, “It would tear me apart to betray you, Nick,” she said, and looked up to him with truth shining in her eyes. The wind tousled her hair, and she swallowed to say thickly, “I just want you to know that. I don’t know how I could live with myself if I did.”

Nick used everything in him not to feel as embarrassed as he did from the effect her words had on him. His fans sped up to cool down his servos, and he scuffed the ground beneath his feet with the toe of his shoe, casting up a bit of dust into the air. “Means a lot, doll,” he murmured, his mind whirring as he thought of past betrayals. Skinny Malone, his old partner Fred, countless others who detested him because he was a synth. “I gotta say that I feel the same.”

When he glanced to her, he deflated his shoulders in relief to see a gentle smile curled along her face. “I’m grateful for that, Nick,” she said. “Do you think it’d be all right if we . . . started over a little bit?”

Valentine grinned at her, yellow eyes glowing even in the bright light of the day. Nora smiled at him in turn when he said, “I don’t see a need to start all the way over, but, somewhere in the middle might be just fine.”

Nick held a hand to her, and she grinned when she went to go take it in her own. With a firm tug, Nick pulled her forward, and Nora’s expression turned into one of surprise as the detective spun her right to him so he could place a firm and loving kiss right on her mouth. She adjusted quickly, her hands resting along his chest as she pressed her lips back against his. “I’d be all right with that,” she said, humming.

Nick smiled against her mouth, gazed at her lustfully, and stole one more kiss before letting her take a pace away from him. Her skin flushed beautifully, and the detective couldn’t help but tease, “Red is a good look for you.”

She scoffed, and only blushed more as a devilish smirk rode up her expression. “Come on, smooth-talker,” she snipped. “Let’s get you back home.”

The walk back was pretty quiet. They only ran into a couple of raiders on their way, and Nick found himself lulling into contentment as he offered his hand to Nora’s for the walk back. She didn’t hesitate when he offered his metal claw, and took it with a beaming smile, their arms swinging through their strides.

Despite the taboo of their contact, Nora didn’t try to shake off his hand when they neared the monstrous gates to Diamond City. A couple of the guards eyed them warily, but if Nora noticed or even cared, she didn’t show it.

Nora’s real attention was focused on the bald guard leaning casually against the entrance to the city; a heavy pair of Patrolman glasses blocked his eyes from being seen, but he was quick to smile when he saw the headstrong woman and synth detective walking towards him.

“Hey sis!” he called, and Nora finally let go of Nick’s hand so she could run to the man known as Deacon.

“Luke!” she cried, jumping into his embrace with her arms thrown over his neck. “Missed you!” she said in a rush.

Deacon chuckled. “Glad to see you in a better state than when I last saw youse,” the man replied covertly, a grin edging his expression. The sudden Old Bostonian accent wasn’t lost on the detective, who tried hard not to laugh. Deacon released Nora from his embrace so he could ask with a grin, “Mister Valentine treating you alright?”

“He’s treated me well, yes,” Nora said with a grin. Looking over her shoulder to catch Nick’s gaze, he looked at her warmly. “Nick, do you think you would mind if I catch up a bit with my brother?”

To discuss Railroad business, no doubt, Nick thought to himself with a smile. “Sure thing, doll,” he said. “I gotta catch up with my secretary, anyway. She’ll be all in a buzz worrying and then wondering about my wanderings with you.”

“Wanderings, eh?” the man known as Luke said, nudging Nora with his elbow in a teasing manner. “Dat sounds like you, Wanderer.”

“Oh Luke, hush,” she said, blushing, though Nick wouldn’t have any idea why. Had Deacon implied something? If he did, it was lost on him. Nora turned back to the detective, smiling gratefully. “How about I catch up to you tomorrow, and we can make a plan from there.”

Nick smiled. “Not a problem, doll. You sure you’ll be all right on these city streets without me?”

“I’m not totally helpless, Nick Valentine,” she teased, matching his smile with her own. At Deacon’s insistent nudge with his elbow, she turned to him, muttering, “All right, all right,” and waved to Nick as the undercover guard pulled her up into the entryway to the city.

Nick chuckled, and made his way after them. He reached the top of the stairs to see them disappear behind an alleyway near the Dugout Inn, and laughed as he made his easy way down the steps.

After being gone for so long, it was easy for Nick to return to the streets of his home. In the middle of the day, the alleys and streets were filled with locals and travelers. The street vendors voices filled the city, offering their services and supplies like weapons, ammo, and food. So close to dinner, the bar stools at Takahashi’s were filled as people slurped down the famous Diamond City noodles.

For today, Nick avoided the hustle and bustle of the city to instead take Fourth and Third to the alcove where his agency was nestled. In the darkening light of the day, the alley was draped in shadows from the blankets and sheets that blocked the sun. The darkness only served to illuminate his neon sign, and Nick took sight of it, a content sigh heaving from his chest.

He pushed the door to his office open, and smiled as he called in, “Ellie? I’m home!”

“Nick!”

No sooner had he closed the door than Ellie launched herself at the detective, grinning from ear to ear as she looked her beloved detective up and down. His loyal secretary stepped back and smoothed out the lapels of his trench coat, her eyes shining with love as she looked him up and down to make sure every bit of him was literally in place. “Welcome home!” she said, smiling.

“Thanks, Ells,” Nick replied a bit bashfully, fighting not to blush with his words when she leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good to be back in Ol’ Diamond City.”

“Well we certainly missed you,” she said. “No new cases, but Malcolm Latimer did come in to ask me about the progress in his case.”

Nick nodded soberly, and looked down at her in thought as his brows furrowed. “What did you tell him?” he asked.

Ellie shrugged, patted his chest with her hands distractedly and pressed her lips together. “I told him it was ongoing and that his case was your number one priority.”

“Well, that’s true, at least. I don’t exactly have many others with paying customers that I can put to bed right now.” The folder under Nick’s bed came to mind, but that wasn’t exactly a case he was planning on getting very far on. But maybe it would be worth looking into with Nora after they cracked the Angels case.

Ellie nodded smartly, “That’s what I thought, too, when I told him. But it wouldn’t hurt to go talk to him to give him an update before the next time you and Miss Nora head out. Speaking of-” the secretary looked over Nick’s shoulder to the door and around the room when she realized her second detective wasn’t there. “Where is that girl?”

“Ran into her brother as we were entering the city,” Nick answered before Ellie could have any time to worry. “They were gonna go catch up and I’ll meet with her in the morning.”

Something in Nick’s gaze must have betrayed him, because the look in Ellie’s eyes was nothing less than absolutely devilish. “And how are you and Nora . . . getting along, Nick?”

“Fine, just fine. She’s a helluva detective.” But Nick was a terrible liar, especially to the people he cared about, and he looked self-consciously to his feet as a grin fought its’ way up his mouth.

“Nick Valentine!” Ellie gasped, the joy and surprise in her voice undeniable. She went to grab the detective’s hands, and she swung him around so he leaned against the desk. The relentless secretary tried to look under the brim of his hat so she could see his expression. Her mouth gaped open in surprise, and when Nick did everything in his power to suppress his embarrassed, give-away grin and avoid eye contact with her, Ellie’s voice dropped into a murmur. “Nick is there – is there something between you two?”

Valentine bit his bottom lip, and he released his held-in breath with a choked-up laugh. His vocal processors manufactured the sound of his throat closing up with tears. He finally lifted his gaze a little to look at Ellie, and her eyebrows lifted in surprise as Nick fought to keep the joyful sobs at bay, “She – she’s wonderful, Ellie.”

That was all he needed to say.

“Nick!” she squealed. In a burst of happy energy, she launched herself at him again, her arms wrapping around his neck in a victorious hug. The detective laughed in her ear, his voice disbelieving as he hugged her back in turn. Ellie leaned back and began to bustle about the agency, chattering to herself. “I’m going to make us some tea, and you are going to tell me everything.”

“All right, Ells,” Nick said, laughing as she started to arrange the office so the pair could seat comfortably in each other’s presence. “Anything I can do?”

“No you sit and wait for me to make this tea and we are going to have a talk.”

So filled with happiness, Nick could only smile.

(**)

“Oh Wanderer . . .”

Deacon’s hand slid over Nora’s shoulder, rubbing it in soothing circles as she leaned forward over her knees. The bright red couch stretched beneath her and her other partner, the agent frowning behind his glasses while he remained as a still and steady presence through her soft sobbing.

“I love him, Deacon. I haven’t – haven’t felt this way since Nate,” Nora hiccuped, one hand going up to press to her mouth, as if to stop the sobs from getting out.

The agent in a casual white shirt inched closer her and pressed his side against hers, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as he tried to offer what comfort he could. “I’m sorry, Nora. I’m so sorry,” he murmured. His other hand went to rub at her thigh, and she moved her hand to hold his, making an effort to ground her.

Nora leaned her head down so she could press into him, and she let herself be vulnerable as the Railroad operative held her close, his arms steady and strong and safe. “I-I tried to stop-” she hiccuped. “But – but how am I supposed to-”

“You’re not in trouble, Wanderer,” Deacon murmured against her head. “You can’t stop loving the people you love. It doesn’t work like that.”

“But this whole mess is just-”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, interrupting her thoughts before they could get too hopeless. His shirt smelled like aftershave – and old scent from Pre-War times, and it reminded Nora of her own brother, long dead by now. Nonetheless, it was comforting, and she pressed herself closer. Deacon’s low voice was a low rumble in her ear that reverberated into her soul. “Everything always finds a way to work out in the end, you’ll see.”

She sighed against him restlessly. “How? Deacon, he’s tracking us, and he’s getting closer. He’s damn too smart for this; it’s getting harder to throw him off the scent.”

For several seconds, Deacon was impossibly quiet, the only sound emanating from him the feel and sound of his breath entering and leaving his lungs. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale-

“What if we made him go off the trail?”

Nora frowned, and tilted her head to look at her long-time partner. “What do you mean?”

She could tell behind his sunglasses that Deacon was frowning, but that only meant he was thinking. His lips pursed together in a thoughtful way, and she waited for him before he finally said. “Do you guys think you could stay here for a few days?”

Nora didn’t have to think about it for long. “Yeah I mean . . . I guess.”

Deacon looked at her, solemn, but hopeful. “I’ve got a plan.”

(**)

“I’m so happy for you, Nick,” Ellie gushed. Holding a steaming cup of tea in one hand, she leaned forward so she could pat the figuratively blushing Nick Valentine, who smiled in turn at her. “Nora sounds like quite the gal, and certainly someone who’s going to keep you on your toes.” Ellie grinned at her teasing, and Nick chuckled under his breath.

“No doubt about that,” he allowed. “She’s quite the spitfire.”

Ellie smiled brightly. “Her blazing fire to your steady river. . . Oh, that’s so beautiful, don’t you think? I think you two will balance each other out marvelously. And it sounds like she’s a keeper as a partner, to boot.”

Nick smiled to himself. “She sure is, Ellie. Never thought I would meet my match, but Nora. . .” he sighed longingly, and Ellie looked like she would just about melt from the lovey-dovey waves Nick gave off. “She’s just so smart, Ells. And the things she can do – the deeds she’s done for the Commonwealth.” Nick shook his head in amazement. “She’s accomplished things I could never even dream of doing, and she’s done it mostly on her own.”

His secretary smiled at him kindly. “It fits together that you would fall for that kinda gal – the kind that wants to help others.”

The detective smiled at her bashfully, and Ellie went to take another sip of her tea. “Well I’m glad to finally see you happy, Nick. I thought for a while there that you wouldn’t find anyone who makes you like this.”

“Thanks, Ellie,” he said, and looked down at his hands folded in his lap. “That means a lot to me, coming from you.”

Her smile warmed his mechanical heart, and she finished up her tea with a final gulp of the hot beverage. With a sigh, she stood up and went to clean her dishes. “Well I just think it’s important you know that. Are you and Miss Nora planning on doing anything special together while you’re back in Diamond City?”

Nick hadn’t thought of that. “Not in particular,” he admit, and thought of the old tradition of courting someone you were interested in, and going on dates together before a proposal.

The part of Old Nick recalled the pressure from parents to settle down and start the family, to stick with the norm. Especially while he was dating Jenny.

Detective Nick Valentine was never truly one for adhering to the norm, being a synth, and Old Nick certainly didn’t want to be pressured into any kind of commitment too fast.

Jenny had been a special gal, though. Quick to laugh and with a lilting voice that could soothe any frayed temper, she was the standard of what upper-class should look like. It didn’t make sense to a lot of people why a gal like her would settle for a worn-down detective like him.

Nick the synth scoffed a little at that thought. Even now, he was still living in Old Nick’s shadow. Getting together with a dame that had no business being interested in someone like him.

Nora was something else.

He thought also of what had happened between them at the Hotel Rexford just a night or so ago, and fought to keep any guilty expression from showing over his face.

Yeah he and Nora were a bit past the simple act of courting by now.

Old Nick’s mother would positively blush if she knew what went on between them.

“You love her, don’t you?” Ellie asked, her voice soft and reverent.

Startled out of his thoughts, Nick lifted his gaze to stare at Ellie. Internally, he could hear the bits of machines in him turning and thinking fast as Ellie asked him something so personal in such a point-blank manner. Finally unable to hide his grin, the detective nodded, blushing in his body language. “I do,” he confessed. “More than I ever thought I could love anyone.”

Ellie couldn’t seem to help herself and went in for another hug. “Oh, Nick~!” she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched with excitement. “I’m so happy for you two!”

Nick laughed again, and held her tight before she leaned back and wiped at her eyes. “Well, that was a good talk, but I’m going to start getting some dinner ready for myself and then go to bed. Will you be all right on your own?”

The detective nodded, and thought wistfully of how nice it would be to walk the city streets during the night again, enjoying the light and the sounds of it before returning back to his closed-off little agency. “That sounds fine to me, Ellie,” he said. “I’ll probably go on a walk myself.”

She nodded, wiped at her eyes, and went to go busy herself in the back towards her room. “Okay, well I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Nick. Will Nora probably stop in?”

“Most likely,” he said as he stood to his feet, dusting off his pants with a few pats of his hands.

In the quiet, Nick lifted his gaze to stare back at Ellie, who beamed at him from ear-to-ear. “I’m really happy for you, Nick. For both of you.”

Valentine smiled kindly back at her, his voice soft and thick with emotion. “Thank you, Ellie. Truly.”

She grinned.

((***))

“Good morning, you,” Nora said with a grin as Nick walked into Home Plate. He grinned at her and closed the door behind him, looking at the well-furnished room hued in colors of red, white, and rusted orange.

“Morning,” Nick said. As he stepped into the warmth of the home, his olfactory senses flared with nostalgia; his mouth dropped open in shock, and he turned his head to Nora to see her pleased expression. “Is that coffee?!” he asked.

Nora nodded, grinning. “You bet,” she said, and stood from the couch. A well-washed white t-shirt rested along her shoulders, and a pair of cut and faded jean shorts hugged her hips while she walked barefoot around her make-shift home. “I’m glad you recognized it. I figured of all the people in the Commonwealth, or at least in Diamond City, you would be the one to recognize the smell.”

Nick grinned and followed Nora as she led him to her little kitchenette against the back wall. There was a little wood stove next to a counter with a kettle made for brewing coffee resting on the burner. Nora grabbed two red ceramic cups from the counter and turned to Nick with a grin. “Want a cup, detective?” she asked. “Brewed fresh this morning.”

The detective imagined what it felt like for his stomach to rumble, and held up a hand in refusal. “I’ll pass, doll. This body wasn’t designed to take in hot liquids like coffee; the smell will be enough.”

She smiled sympathetically to him, then placed a cup on the back counter before going to pour herself a cup. With her back turned, Nick took in the appealing curve of her body, and found himself unable to resist as he sidled over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, allowing his chin to rest on her shoulder as he watched her prepare the coffee. “I’m surprised you like this stuff,” he thought aloud, mesmerized by the softness of her hands, the dexterity as she poured some Brahmin milk into the drink to make it creamy, and added a spoonful of sugar for some sweetness. Nick pressed his face against hers. “Most Commonwealth folk can’t stand the stuff. I’m surprised you know about it so well.”

Nora’s voice smiled to him. “Picked it up from Daisy in Goodneighbor, you know, the ghoul at Daisy’s Discounts?”

Nick nodded, smiling. “Sweet old gal. Been there as long as I can remember.”

“Because she’s been there as long as you can remember,” Nora teased, turning her head a little so he caught a glimpse of her shimmering green eyes, her slight pink mouth uplifted into a smile. “She’s Pre-War, turned me on to the stuff.”

“Hm,” Nick hummed, and subsequently squeezed Nora a little closer to him so his hips ground against hers from behind. “I think I know other ways we can turn you on, but not with coffee.”

Nora tilted her head back and laughed, her voice incredulous, “Oh really?” she asked, leaning against him as he adjusted himself to hold and steady her weight. The sharp-tongued woman took a drink of her antiqued beverage and looked to him with a glimmer in her eye. “Do you think such activities can be done after I’ve had my morning coffee?”

An easy enough rejection, and a reasonable one at that. Nick kissed her shoulder, unhurt by her refusal. “Absolutely, doll. Wouldn’t dream of interrupting such an important morning ritual as morning coffee.”

She laughed, took a sip of the burning liquid and turned in his arms so she pressed her front to his. “Why thank you. A true gentleman, indeed.”

Nick smiled, then went to kiss her, enjoying the slight taste of the caffeinated drink that lingered on her lips. He hummed in pleasure; his tongue slipped out to lick long her lips for just a taste of it, and the detective grinned when Nora actually giggled at the action.

The detective leaned back a little to look at her, grinning and not at all put off by her laughter. “Something funny, Miss Nora?”

“Sorry, Nick,” she apologized, smiling as she went to cover her mouth with her hand. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” She took another sip of her creamy coffee.

Nick laughed and shook his head. “It’s not a problem, doll.” Looking her up and down, he let his hands slide down to hold her waist as he met her bright green eyes with his glowing yellow ones. “You ready to head out? I’ve got a case I need to close and a stop I need to make before we do.”

He saw something like uncertainty pass over her expression. “Do you actually mind if we stay for another day or so? I wouldn’t mind the break. I’ve got to catch up on my sleep.”

“Sure, not a problem,” Nick said, though a part of him wondered at the bright lilt in her voice layered above the smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. One of his hands curled at it’s place over her hip. “Is everything okay?”

Her gaze softened, and she leaned forward to press her soft lips against his. “Everything is fine, Valentine. Don’t worry so much, okay?”

Nick wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that, because how couldn’t he worry over her, but he smiled lightly at her regardless, and pulled her against him for a comforting squeeze before letting her go. “Anything I can do to help with things today?”

Nora shook her head. “None that I can think of. Just some paperwork things I need to look over between me and my number two.” She considered him for a moment, “Are you sure you’ll be all right if we stay here for another day or so?”

The detective waved a hand at her easily, “It’s not a problem, doll. What’s a few days to an old bot like me? I’ll kick back while we’re in town, maybe close some small-time cases. Besides,” Nick thought of Malcolm Latimer restlessly waiting for him in the upper-stands, “I’ve got someone I need to meet with about a case, anyway.”

“Okay,” Nora said pretty simply, and paused for a beat before asking, “Is there anything you want my help with that I can do?”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t think so, doll. But I’ll find you if I do.”

Nora smiled lightly at him. “Okay. Thanks, Nick.”

“Sure, sure.”

(**)

Figuring he might as well get it over with as early in the morning as it was, Nick walked with heavy feet up the platform towards the upper stands. A couple of guards nodded amiably to him as he went, to which Nick nodded back in turn with a tip of his hat.

As usual, the upper crust of the city sat at their tables at the outdoor bar, where the snooty Mr. Handy hovered around tending to their orders. The robot didn’t bother asking Nick for a drink as he approached, knowing the Nick wasn’t one to partake.

The detective scanned the small crowd and found Malcolm Latimer with little effort. The man sat smartly at an outdoor patio table and chair with the rest of his cohort, his face set into smooth lines as he talked crisply with the other members of their little high society.

It was all BS to Nick, but caps were caps, regardless of the customer’s socioeconomic status. If anything, there would be more to exploit with Latimer being a man with so much caps to go around.

The upper-stander noticed Nick hovering by the entrance of the bar shortly, but made no move to beckon Nick over. The detective raised a brow, unable to stop the snark in his head as he imagined what Nora would have said to such snobbery. She might have released some glib comment about high-society a-holes never changing.

With that thought in mind, Nick smirked, and stepped into the bar. A few of the patrons cast him sliding glances from the corner of their eyes, but none paid explicit attention to the detective. It made sense to Nick why they would be so crude. Not only was he someone who lived out in the field, he was also a synth, someone who fell beneath even the lowest of the low.

When Nick approached Mr. Latimer, he tipped his hat cordially. “Mr. Latimer. There any chance we can step out and have a talk?”

The question itself was merely a formality. Of course he would want to discuss something with Nick in private; it was classier that way, and more gossip-inducing for the eves-droppers keying in on their conversation.

True to form, Malcolm Latimer cleared his throat, and promptly nodded in agreement. “Yes. Please, follow me. We can discuss these matters privately.”

Nick nodded once before leading the man from the patio and into the cozy bar across the way. The usually occupied desk was empty, having been that way since the owners’ disappearance, and Nick knew that neither men would be interrupted.

The detective looked to Malcolm Latimer from the corner of his gaze, and gestured with an open hand to the lower tables set up near the bar stool. “Please, Mr. Latimer, take a seat.”

The wealthy man regarded Nick in a considerate manner, then appeased him and sat at the empty table. Nick took a seat adjacent from him, and chose to be the first person to launch into a conversation. “My secretary informed me that you stopped in, asking for me.” Detective Valentine waited for Malcolm Latimer to speak, and when he refused, Nick went on, “She said you were inquiring about the progress in the case,” he tried to lead him on.

Malcolm Latimer finally broke, his whole body tensed up and released as he snapped, “It’s been months!” he accused hotly. “Months since I hired you to take on this case and solve my son’s murder! But you’ve given me nothing!”

Nick kept his irritation in check, and refused to get upset over Latimer’s outburst. He was working with a man who’s son had been killed. Of course he would be upset and want to lash out at whoever was responsible for some kind of wrongdoing to him.

“Mr. Latimer,” Nick started, keeping his voice level. “Detective work isn’t something that gets resolved immediately. Even in pre-war times, solving cases could sometimes take years.”

The irate man slammed his fist on the table between them. “We don’t have years! I need to know who killed my son. Do you have any suspects?! Anyone you think might have a trail to lead to the Angels?”

Nick thought of MacCready, how they had a lead who gave them invaluable information, and then disappeared like smoke in the air.

“We did,” Nick said, regretful. “But he disappeared. My partner and I are on the hunt for him.”

“Your partner?” Malcolm sat up, his interest piqued. “Who?”

Nick shifted in his chair. “Nora Connors; she’s new to Diamond City. Sharp as a whip, that gal.” The detective reached into his pocket to fish out a cigarette. Flicking his lighter for a spark, he lit the end of it until smoke puffed out from the end. Latimer watched him with a critical eye.

“If she’s as smart as you say she is, maybe she can find my son’s killer faster,” he grit out.

Valentine regarded Latimer as warmly as he could. “We’re both working as well as we can, Mr. Latimer. Detective work just takes time at all. Don’t worry, my partner and I are working on it.”

“Well you better,” he grumbled a bit lamely. Nick raised a brow at the tone, but said nothing of it to the grieving father. Initiating the end of the conversation, Malcolm Latimer stood to his feet, a frown still crossed over his expression as he glared at the unhelpful detective. “If you do not find my son’s murderer, you can be certain that I’ll find one who will.”

Nick didn’t respond to the barb, knowing Latimer was bluffing. As far as he knew, there wasn’t another detective like him for miles. Unless they found some master tracker, or had a divine revelation as to where the Angels were hiding, it was hopeless without Nick’s expertise.

“We’ll find him,” Nick vowed.

A bit of grief somehow edged it’s way into Malcolm’s voice. “You promise?” he asked, sounding hopeless.

Nick hesitated. He didn’t like making promises to clients, especially when it had to do with finding killers, or in the fact that the apparent murderers were impossible to find at all, and that no one had any means to do so.

“Promise me,” Malcolm said, his voice a plea rather than an order. Nick looked to the man skeptically, his gaze still considerate. Dread filled the detective’s chest, but he heaved a breath in and out, then released it uncertainly.

“. . . Sure,” he said, and his voice dropped. “I promise.”

Relief passed over Latimer’s expression, his mouth softening at the edges. “Thank you,” he said, taking in a shuddering breath. He started towards the door behind Nick, a bit of a stagger in his steps. His hand touched the detective’s shoulder on his way out, “Thank you.”

Nick chose not to reply, and looked down at his lap as he held onto whatever hope was still in his mechanical heart.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he grumbled as soon as the door closed behind the wealthy man. Nick fiddled with the cigarette in one hand. “I still have to find him.”

Chapter Text

For the rest of that morning and into the hours of the afternoon, Nick spent some time in his office working on the Latimer case, fueled by the conversation with his client. He thought of the gravesite and makeshift cross that marked the grave of Nelson Latimer. The boy who got himself in too deep, who wouldn’t leave well enough alone and had to get tangled in chem deals.

At the thought of the gravesite, Nick suddenly stilled as something passed through his mind.

The cross, at the boy’s grave.

The cross.

Two sticks tied together with a bit of twine.

The letters N.M. enscribed into the wood.

Nick didn’t know if all the gears in him stopped working, or if they were going so fast that he couldn’t keep track of where his thoughts were going.

All of a sudden, the detective’s pen was flying across the paper, scribbling notes into the old sheet as his hand tried to keep up with his mind.

A hand on his shoulder suddenly startled the detective out of his thoughts, and he let out a gasp of surprise as he looked up into the eyes of his partner, Nora. The woman smiled at him, clearly weary, judging by her expression. “Hey, Nick,” she said, sounding tired. In one hand, she held an unopened bottle of bourbon. She regarded him a bit oddly. “Everything okay? You didn’t even hear when I came in.”

He shook his head, and ran a hand over his face. “Sorry, doll,” he said, aware of her hand rubbing into his shoulder in an attempt to soothe him. “Working on the Angels case.”

She frowned a little and leaned over his shoulder to try to read his notes. “Yeah? Get to anything good?”

“Maybe,” he said out loud, and leaned back into his chair and looked at his messy scrawl. “There’s something I want to check, though. It’s just a hunch for now; I don’t want to make it an official deduction until we see it for ourselves.”

Nora had his attention, now, but she went around him to place the bottle on the desk, and that’s when Nick saw what she was wearing and absolutely missed whatever she said. A beautiful sparkling lilac dress that went all the way down to her ankles, but a slit in the side traveled up to her thigh, showing legs that went on for days. The fabric hugged her form perfectly, showing off every delicious curve. The dress itself was sleeveless, and instead had a light fabric that wrapped around her arms softly. She finished off the outfit with a pair of neat and clean black heels with straps that went across her feet and ankles. Nick realized he had never seen her so exposed before, and his eyes stayed locked on the softness of her skin around her collarbone and the easy slope of her bare shoulders. Whatever was in Nick’s mind ground to a halt, and he suddenly felt like choking. “You – up – uh.”

His partner looked at him over her shoulder, her smile devious. “Something up, Nick?”

God this woman. He was aware that his mouth hung open like some cod, but he couldn’t find the will in him to close it as he gawked at her lithe form. After looking at her closely, he realized also that she had styled her hair, making it softer and wavier. She had even put some kind of gloss on her lips so they shone with the light, and he found himself again caught in the magic of her green eyes.

He swallowed, and tried to find his voice. “You – ah – you going anywhere tonight, doll? Meeting up with someone?”

She smiled, enjoying his flustered responses as she stood to her full height, her shoulders relaxed as looked coyly at him. “Well,” she drawled, “I was thinking we could have a nice dinner together – just you and me for our last night in town before we head out tomorrow.” She looked at the paper on his desk after he nearly forgot about it. “But if you’d rather go out this late in the day to do detective work, I get it. It’s for the Angel case, right?”

Nick shook his head and stood to his feet, approaching her slowly but not letting his hands stray from his sides. “You – you sure know how to get a guy going, don’t you?” he asked, slightly breathless.

Nora blushed and tried to hide her pleased smile. She glanced at him from beneath her eyelashes. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Detective Valentine.” A coy smirk slid up her face, and she grinned.

The detective chuckled, and slowly reached his hand out so he could draw it slowly up and down her side. “You said it’s late in the afternoon?”

His partner nodded, “Mm-hm. It’s already 6 pm, about time to start settling in after a long day of work.” She eyed the open folder and paper behind him, and Nick laughed to himself.

“Suppose you’re right. Can’t leave you home all night because my nose is buried in work,” he amended, taking pleasure in the sight of her shivering from his hands as he drew his fingertips up and down her body, his touch light.

Nora said nothing, but she held a hand up to touch Nick’s chest, her palm still against him, and Nick froze. He wondered if he had bypassed some boundary that he missed, hoped he hadn’t crossed some sort of line, and watched as Nora met his eyes seriously. “You sure this is something that can wait for tomorrow?”

Adoration filled Nick’s heart, and he gazed at her with more love than he could ever comprehend. “It can,” he said, answering her question. “It is late, and the place I’m thinking of is across the river from Backstreet Apparel.”

Nora hummed in thought, and absently moved his undamaged hand to the small of her back so his thumb brushed along the area above her hip. “That’s near the bridge where the boat is crashed – crawling with raiders, usually.”

Nick nodded in mute agreement, and pulled her a little closer to him, urged on by her silent encouragement. “And it is growing late out; we wouldn’t be back before dark.”

“There’s feral dogs out there,” Nora thought out loud, and it was like she was convincing the both of them to stay in Diamond City for the night.

Valentine couldn’t help but tease her as he said, “I’m sure it’s nothing you couldn’t handle, though.” He pulled his hand away a little, grinning mischievously. “If we left now, I bet we could head out and get back pretty-”

“Don’t you dare, Nick Valentine,” Nora growled, grabbing the ends of his coat so she could tug him back to his place against her. She slid one leg around his, effectively trapping him, though Nick wasn’t sure if he was considered ‘trapped’ if he willingly let her wrap her legs around him. “You and I are staying right here in Diamond City, and nothing’s dragging us out there into the Commonwealth tonight.”

He laughed softly at her zeal; finally, he let his hands hold her waist so he could pull her hips to his. “Won’t hear me complaining, doll,” he rumbled, his hat tilting off his head as he leaned down so their foreheads touched. He gazed deeply into her eyes, unable to see anything else but her. He inhaled slowly to take in her scent as his eyes memorized every part of her – her voice, the shine of her eyes, the way she tilted her head to look at him, the little smile that grew along her lips when he spoke. God, she was so perfect, and she chose him.

Glancing to the door behind them, he asked thickly, “Do you want to maybe take this evening . . . somewhere more comfortable?”

She raised an eyebrow. “’Comfortable’?” she asked.

“And private,” Nick added. “Ellie has her own key to this place, and she sleeps here. I’m thinking maybe your place will be better suited for the . . . activities we’re planning on engaging in this evening.” His undamaged hand slid down to her ass, giving one cheek a firm squeeze and effectively pulling her closer to him.

Nora gasped at the contact, her mouth forming an O of surprise as she looked at Nick. “I forget how direct you are, Nick,” she said, smiling.

“Darling, how could you forget?” he asked with a growl, his hand sliding beneath her ass so he could brush his fingers along the back of her thigh. He lifted her leg so it wrapped at his hip, and he grinned devilishly to her, his eyes sparking with glee.

To his delight, his partner met his grin with her own, and she let her arms relax around his neck, her expression conspiratorial as she held him close. “I think going somewhere to be by ourselves would be a great idea.”

Unable to resist, Nick pressed a quick kiss to her lips, lingering for a second longer before leaning back a bit. “Then let’s go.”

(**)

It was later in the evening, so the streets were mostly devoid of Diamond City patrons. Nora giggled like a lovestruck teenager as Nick guided her through the darkened parts of the back alley behind her house, hoping that there would be less walk-arounds at this part of the city rather than the main market.

“Nick,” she whispered, laughing as she gripped his hand tight in hers, her smile contagious. “We’re still going to have to walk through Main Street to get to my front door.”

He looked back at her over his shoulder as he stopped at the edge of the buildings where the butcher shop was. “But there will be less people to see us,” he added, smirking as he looked at her.

“Nick,” she said, and came around to look at him with sudden concern. “You’re not embarrassed about . . . us, are you?”

“What?” He blinked and looked at her up and down. “No!” A grin split his face. “It’s just more fun this way.”

That broke the serious pout over her eyes, and she was quick to smile back at him, falling back into another giggle. Nick leaned down to kiss her softly on the mouth before pulling back and grinning at her. His hand squeezed hers tight for one moment, then he urged her along with him as he led her down the main street of the market. “Come on, you. Let’s get you into some more comfortable clothes.”

Nora’s only reply was her girlish giggle from behind.

(**)

She fumbled with the keys when they got to the door, but as soon as the lock gave way, both detectives nearly fell against the door and into the dark, musty room.

Nick was first aware of Nora’s hand sliding from his as his mechanical eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness. He couldn’t see as well as he could in light, but he could still make out shapes and distinct shades of gray in the near-darkness. The detective turned his head to watch his partner fumbling through the darkness around a coffee table towards the box where she could turn on the lights. “Excuse me for the mess, all right?” she said. “I’ve tried to clean this place, but it’s a bit hard when the floor is essentially just dirt.”

He said nothing, captivated by the way the dress slid up her legs as she tried to reach for the box above her head. Her hands scrambled for the it, eventually finding the lid and moving it aside so she could flip the switch.

The room immediately flooded with warm, bright light; while Nick’s optics immediately adjusted to the change, he knew it would take Nora’s eyes a second to shift.

He took advantage of it, and as she turned to him, blinking from the light, whatever she was going to say was cut off as Nick pounced on her.

His heavier, stocky body pressed to hers, his mouth kissing her fervently as he tried to pull her as close as possible to his chest. He moaned into her lips, his hands touching her everywhere as he tried to feel every part of her that was in reach. Her hips, her back, the curve of her sides, her soft arms, her neck, her breasts, the smooth and exposed part of her neck . . . Nick was in love with all of her.

“God, Nora-” he moaned thickly, parting his mouth from hers; she panted loudly in his ear, her hand going to cup the back of his head as he moved his lips to kiss her cheek and shell of her ear, the hollow of her throat. “You’re perfect, you’re so goddamn beautiful-”

For once, she was speechless, and he chuckled, his head ducked down to kiss and tease at that lovely collarbone. “What? Nothing from the Counsel?”

She gasped out a laugh, her voice hinged with pleasure as her chest heaved for breath. “Shit, Detective-” Her head tilted back, hitting the workbench as she bit the air. “You haven’t done this in how long, again?”

He chuckled, arousal moving through his every wire and sensor at the way she gasped his title. “I don’t think that part is important,” he said, and one of his hands finally reached around to feel for the zipper at the back of her dress. With an affirmative tug, he pulled it down, unbreaking his gaze from hers as he exposed more of her smooth-skinned back. “What I think is important,” he amended, gently moving his metal hand to her shoulder so he could brush the sleeves down her arms, revealing more soft skin, “is getting you out of-” His voice cut off. The dress folded at the round curve of her breasts, where he could see a bit of colored fabric beginning to peak out. Pink?

Bright pink. Nick swallowed, his gaze frozen as he watched her breasts move up and down with each breath. Amused, Nora wiggled her shoulders so the dress pooled at her legs, and Nick had to keep himself from gawking when he saw the matching pink bra and panties, lacy and with a flowery pattern. The detective jerked his eyes away to look at his partner in accusation, and as soon as he saw the victorious smirk, he knew.

“You planned this,” he accused with a whisper. Her coming over to the Agency, pretending to ask if they were heading out tonight.. but eventually leading him right back here, like a siren pulling a sailor adrift at sea into her trap. And he fell for it. Hook like and sinker.

Honestly, Nick was impressed. And to be honest, he couldn’t be angry, not really. Especially when she presented herself to him like.. like this-

Nora shrugged and lightly rolled her eyes. “I just. . . thought I would surprise you. I know they’re not functional or whatever, but they’re pretty, and from my personal collection. Besides,” and her gaze caught his. “I thought they would match the sign from your agency.”

Nick fought to keep the groan from escaping his throat, the picture in his head of her like this in front of his sign enough to make his head spin. He drank in the sight of Nora’s exquisite body. Soft and yet hardened by the Commonwealth, he had never seen a dame quite like her. She still had some old stretch marks from her pregnancy, and Nick let his hand slide along her stomach, causing her to shiver from his touch. “You’re perfect, Nora,” he whispered in a vulnerable way, his voice choking. “Don’t know what I ever did to find someone as great as you.”

“I could say the same, Nick,” she said, her voice sincere. Nick looked up at her, his gaze hooded as his partner tugged at his coat. “Now you!” she demanded, pulling at him with an excited grin. “Not fair if I’m the only one who gets to strip.”

He chuckled at her. “You put up quite the argument, Counselor” and obeyed as he let her slide his trench coat from his shoulders so it went to join her dress on the floor.

She offered him a wry smile as her eyes danced from his teasing. “I didn’t go to law school for nothing, Detective. I could legal talk you all day.” Nora began the process of unbuttoning his white shirt, rarely seen in full beneath his often-worn coat. “Does the witness have anything else to say in relation to the accused?”

Nick laughed at her teasing, allowing her to do the honors as she slowly exposed the panes of his synthetic chest. “I’m surprised you know so much legal jargon at all.”

“I read a lot of books,” she said with a shrug. “There wasn’t always a lot to do on the farm.”

Before Nick could say anything more, she effectively silenced him as she leaned forward to start peppering kisses along his exposed chest. She started to slow her movements, her lips lingering as she pressed her mouth to his false collarbone and moved down to what was his upper chest. Nick gasped openly, his head tilted back as Nora suddenly turned the tables on him, giving him pleasure in turn.

“Doll – doll,” Nick groaned for her; she hummed in response, and he cracked open an eye to see her devilish smile as she kissed all the way down to his navel, undoing the buttons as she went. More and more of his gray-planed chest was exposed, and she finally stopped when she reached his waistline and knelt on the floor. His hand went to rest along her head, and he breathed out shakily as she looked up at him, her smile teasing.

“Something the matter, Detective?” she asked playfully, just as amused that she was able to strike him speechless.

He again gasped in pleasure, and pulled lightly at her hair, “Don’t stop,” he urged, rolling his head, though he had nothing to rest it against. “Shit don’t stop-”

“You can feel me?” she asked, kissing just to the left of his bellybutton. Or at least, what was supposed to be his bellybutton. A human-like tremor passed through his body as he felt the distinguishing feel of her tongue sliding and teasing at his belly. He groaned, and his sensors felt the warmth of her breath as she mouthed at his rubbery skin, “Tell me how it feels, Nick.”

His hand clenched, opening and closing about her head as he pleasured in the feel of her touching him. “Your lips-” he tried to say, in an effort to piece together words. “Your mouth – geez, doll, your hair and your breath – it’s so good-”

She hummed at him, and Nick gazed down at her, his body wriggling and adjusting so he could feel the most pleasure under her ministrations. “Something else you want, Nick?” she asked.

The detective eyed her, admiring the slope of her shoulders and the way her whole upper body was flushed with arousal, complementing the brightness of her pink undergarments. “How about,” he started, his undamaged hand brushing slowly along the strap of the bra, “we get these off.” His eyes slowly drifted up her body to match her gaze, “And get comfortable on the bed?”

From where she knelt beneath him, Nick got to watch every delicious second go by as her face turned a deeper red, and she nodded in agreement. “Only if you take these off, too,” she added, hooking her fingers through the loops at his pants. She grinned deviously at him, and clarified on a softer note, “If that’s all right with you?”

Nick nodded, and tangled his hand through her soft and lovely hair. The thought made him nervous, wondering if Nora would outright laugh at him or think less of him because of how he was . . . designed. But all it took was a sweet grin from her, and he was lost.

Valentine nodded in agreement. “That’s fine, doll,” he said, and before she could begin to shimmy his pants down, his hands snapped to hers, holding them in place. “Can we wait until we get to the bed first?”

It wasn’t said in a seductive or saucy manner, but Nora understood the vulnerable tone of his voice, and nodded. Relief and adoration passed through the love-struck detective, and as he helped Nora to her feet, he pressed a thankful kiss to the junction between her neck and shoulder. “Thank you, doll,” he rumbled; his hands ran up and down along her arms.

“Nick, if there’s anything we do that you don’t like, you need to tell me to stop, okay?” she asked, looking at him seriously. “I don’t want you to have a negative experience with me.”

“I know,” he said, and kissed her again. “Same goes for you.”

She laughed incredulously, like that wouldn’t happen. “Don’t worry about me,” she murmured. “It takes a lot for me to not enjoy something like this, especially when I’m doing it with someone like you.” She winked

Nick laughed at her words, amused and bashful. “You’re gonna make me blush, doll.”

Nora smiled. With one deft hand, she guided him back to her lips so she could kiss his mouth. “How about we take this upstairs, then?” she asked, gesturing to the open loft with a tilt of her head.

Valentine laughed, looking over at the tight space, but going along anyway as Nora guided him up the stairs. “You sure there’s enough room for the both of us?” he asked, ducking his head from beneath a beam as they went up.

“Oh I’m sure there’s enough for us,” she purred. Nick followed her closely, openly watching the curve of her ass when she walked up the stairs, and the sight of her creamy exposed skin along her back. His gaze traveled up further, and stopped when he saw old scars on the back of her neck, dead center.

Like burns. Old and wrinkled and clearly from something painful.

Before both reached the last stair, Nick extended a hand to touch the old and closed-up wound. A light touch, just the faintest brush of his finger tips. “This looks pretty nasty,” he said, his voice low. Nora stilled beneath his touch, and he went on. “You walk backwards into a flame thrower for that one?

In a self-conscious manner, Nora’s hand slid back to cup her neck, but she didn’t turn her whole body to address him. Quietly, her voice vulnerable, she uttered. “Cold burn wound. Prolonged exposure to ice.”

Nick paused, and thought of the hot Commonwealth heat, the humidity that soaked into his rubber skin and caused his metal joints and hinges to ache. A cold burn? Prolonged exposure? “How?” is all he asked.

For what felt like a long time, Nora said nothing. But it was only a few seconds later when she uttered a response. “It was a long time ago.”

The detective frowned; deep concern and alarm went fast through him, and he found that the only thing he could utter was, “What – what happened?”

Nora’s shoulders deflated, and Nick tightened his hand in hers in an attempt to steer her towards him. Reluctantly, her body turned to him, but she avoided his eyes. The detective frowned, and went up another stair so he could look her better in the eyes. “Nora, doll. Don’t go somewhere without me.” Without thinking about it, his thumb began circling about her wrist in a comforting circle.

The woman self-consciously lifted a hand to cover the back of her neck, and she heaved in a shuddering sigh. “Nick. . . can we please. . . not talk about it?”

Nick gazed at her deeply, and finally nodded mutely in agreement to her request. “All right doll. Just. . . know I’m here for you, okay?”

She nodded, and the detective saw how her face scrunched up in an effort to block any tears from forming. “Nick,” she started. “I don’t know if . . . if I can-”

“Shh, doll,” Valentine murmured, and drew up a hand to hold the side of her face with his hand. She leaned into his palm; tears like crystals dripped from her eyelashes, and Nick said, “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. You know that. If you never want to tell me, that’s fine.” He gazed at her, pain aching through his chest. “We all got our secrets and things we need to keep for ourselves. Just like you said.”

Nora’s mouth began to twist into a sob; her hand grasped his, her skin soft and pliant against his metallic, skeleton-like claw. “You’re so good to me, Nick,” she murmured. An ironic laugh burst from her mouth as she turned her head to press her mouth to his palm. “We really know how to set the mood, huh?”

Nick smiled at her and shook his head in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “We do, don’t we?”

Her eyes smoldering with love, Nora’s hand slid down his side, and the detective shivered reflexively as his sensors alerted him to the feeling. “Maybe we can try to set it again,” she said, the implications clear in her voice.

“Are you sure you’re up for it, doll?” he asked, thinking of the emotional baggage they unexpectedly sorted through. Slowly, his hand went to touch the back of her neck where she scar was, and she flinched a little. “After dredging up such old memories, and such painful ones. . .”

Nora leaned forward so her head touched the top of his chest. “It’s fine, Nick. If I feel like it’s too much for me, I’ll let you know, okay?”

That comforted him, and the synth relaxed a little from her words. “. . . Alright,” he said, not wanting her to be uncomfortable at all. They started making their way back up the stairs, with Nora looking over her shoulder at him with a heavy and loving smile. Nick felt the need to say. “You’ll stick to that, right? I don’t want you to get uncomfortable or not enjoy-”

“Nick,” she said, rolling her eyes at him as they crested the final stair. “It’ll be fine. And you do the same for me, all right?”

The detective nodded. “Okay, doll.” As Nick reached the final part of their climb, he looked at the bed she had set up against the far corner of the loft, and was surprised to see clean and comfortable bedding that looked to be in decent shape. His hairless eyebrows lifted in shock, and he laughed softly. “You’re more Pre-War than you realize you are, you know?”

She looked at him over her shoulder, smirking in some kind of secret way he didn’t know about. “Is that so, Valentine?”

He nodded. “Not many folks around here would bother putting clean bedding on a bed. Most people just sleep on a bare mattress. I’ve heard it’s also difficult to keep something like this clean.” Something in the back of Nick’s mind couldn’t help but whisper, A bit too clean. . . How does a woman in a time like this today keep a bed so clean?

“Pre-War secret I got from Daisy,” Nora teased, grinning. “You like the pillows, too? Nice and comfy.”

Nick leaned over a little to see the pillows she was talking about, and sure enough, two clean pillows sat nicely at the head of the bed.

With the bed, a bookshelf sat at the far wall near another, smaller, set of stairs. At the side of the bed near the head, a med-kit rested into the wall, looking fully stuffed with supplies so that the lid looked tightly closed. At the foot of the bed, a dresser stood in good condition, the wood nicely polished so it looked as Pre-War as the bed and other furniture in the home. There was even a hamper at the side.

Nick raised a critical eyebrow. “You learn all this from reading books?”

“And from talking to Daisy.”

The detective looked to Nora thoughtfully. “This sure is a lot to learn from Daisy about home improvement and all that. . .” Unbeknownst to Nick, the seed of suspicion in him was beginning to grow into a small burst of life, fragile but present. Was Nora really so passionate about Pre-War life that she would go to such accurate extremes to make her house this way?

She didn’t dress as Pre-War ghouls usually tried to, dolling themselves up and all that, and she never got into passionate rants about the time period before.

Did she. . .

Was Nora telling the truth?

But what reason could she have to lie? And about something as trivial as being an avid fan of design and culture of Pre-War times?

Nick suddenly started in alarm when he heard Nora calling his name, her smile light and amused as she met his eyes warmly. “You go somewhere, Nick? Making a round trip or a one-way?”

The detective chuckled. “Round trip. Sorry, doll.” Embarrassment flooded through him, accompanied with guilt for being so immediately suspicious of Nora for something that likely was harmless and also none of his business. He supposed that the suspicion came from a lifetime of detective work. “Guess I just got lost in thought a little bit.”

“More than a little bit,” Nora smiled and rolled her eyes. She frowned in concern, “It wasn’t a flashback from Old Nick, was it?”

Valentine shook his head, quick to dispel her from having any fear. “No, nothing like that, doll. Just lost in thought, as usual.”

Nearly losing attention, Nick didn’t totally realize that Nora was guiding him to the bed until she was sitting on the mattress with one leg bent underneath her. “Don’t worry, detective. I’ll guide you back into focus.”

As the bed squeaked under her weight, Nick found himself suddenly rapt with attention as he observed and neared Nora as she slid back along the bed. Before jumping into bed with her, Nick toed off his shoes, leaving his socks on as he got on the bed and started crawling towards her. His shirt was abandoned on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, but the tie remained around his neck as he approached his seductive beauty.

She grinned devilishly at him, crooking her finger in a ‘come hither’ movement; Nick felt arousal course fast through him, every sensor in his skin alight and sensitive from every touch and beckon from the soft-skinned beauty.

All thoughts and suspicion of Nora went out the window . . . at least for tonight.

When Nick was close enough, he finally melded his mouth to hers in a searing kiss. A pulling at his neck told him that Nora was tugging at his tie, and he groaned as she began to slide under him until she lay flat underneath his body.

Desperate to touch her, Nick’s left and undamaged hand moved to her upper side so he could hover his palm over to her covered breast. Nora wriggled desperate beneath him, a whimper slipping from her mouth as the detective squeezed her breast, maneuvering his hand so he could feel her pebbled nipple beneath the fabric.

Nora whined, and Nick chuckled as his mouth left hers to begin sucking at her neck. “Think we can get you out of these clothes, doll?”

She nodded, her eyes closed in pleasure, and without saying anything, reached back her hands to fiddle with the clasp. Her back arched off the bed beneath Nick, and both of them finally sighed in relief as the clothing relaxed against her body.

Nick didn’t bother wasting time throwing off the cloth, but instead slid it deliciously down her body so he could begin lavishing her breasts with kisses. His lips sucked at the exposed skin, lapped and circled the nipples, and nipped with gentle, teasing bites. Nora moved restlessly beneath him, thrusting her chest up into his mouth, anxious for more. “Nick- come on -”

He chuckled, delighting in how quickly she responded to his touch, and gave her what she wanted as his lips finally focused around a dusky nipple. The detective closed his eyes in a distinctly human way as sounds began to erupt from his partner – sweet sounds that sent scores of memories passing through Nick’s head. Memories of pleasuring rookie cops in the back of the police department, their sounds hushed to be discreet, but these memories were nothing to Nick, now. No sound Old Nick evoked from some dame could compare to the moans and whimpers Nora vocalized.

Nick shivered when he felt Nora’s legs slide on either side of his hips, the movement urging Nick to grind his hips against his partner’s as she lifted hers up to meet him. The synth moaned quietly at her touch, and while his attention was diverted to Nora’s legs, her focus was somewhere else entirely. Her movements slow and sensual, Nora’s hand wrapped around Nick’s wrist – the undamagd one that was holding her bare breast. Without saying a word, she moved his hand down her body, closer to the center between her legs. “Nick,” she whimpered.

Lust passed through Nick’s grin when he realized exactly what Nora ached for. “You want something, doll?” he asked, his throat heavy and layered with his arousal.

She nodded in a desperate kind of way, her expression screwed and twisted in pleasure as she guided Nick’s hand until he could cup her covered sex. Nick let her lead his hand until he felt her heat, and the sensors in his fingertips let him feel the wetness of her panties.

The detective chuckled. “Eager, aren’t we?” he asked.

Nora’s hand touching Nick’s urged him to press and grind his palm into her sex, but no words managed to escape from her throat, her mind too blinded with pleasure. “Dammit, Nick, please-”

He hummed in pleasure, “I love your voice,” he growled. “The sounds you make-”

Urged on by his talking, Nora thrust her hips into his hands, groaning in loss as his hand slid away from her, teasing. “Ni-ick!” she complained, one of her hands fisting in his tie and pulling his head closer to her. She tried to grab his hand with her own to prompt him to press again into her, but he only laughed softly in her ear and enjoyed the way her naked form writhed beneath him. “Please-” she begged, music to his ears. “Please – fuck – please~”

“Keep making those sounds, doll,” he ordered into her ear, and began to slide her panties down her hips. She quickly lifted her hips to help him drag the fabric down, and his fingers started slipping up and down her slit as it was finally exposed and bare. “Tell me how much you love the way I ready your body – so I can fuck you.”

“Aah!” Nora cried out, and thrust up her hips instinctively, causing his undamaged hand to delve into her folds, inadvertently brushing against her clit.

Nora’s body jerked as if electrocuted; her body clamped hard around Nick’s, squeezing him like a vice. “Shit!” she cursed, her whole body shaking from the touch. “Nick – god!”

“Okay, love?” he asked softly in her ear, worried that he had pushed her too far. Damn, was she this close, already?

“Nick, no, it’s -” she shook her head, her strands of dark hair flying about her head. “Please – don’t – don’t stop touching me, don’t stop talking-”

If Nick were human, something in him knew that he would have cried. The simple admission to what he did to her – to what gave her pleasure, what she loved about him . . .

“Oh doll,” he said, and one finger slowly started to make it’s way into her entrance, causing the woman beneath him to tense in pleasure as his thumb stroked slowly over her clit. “Believe me, there’s not much that could get me to stop.”

Grasping at his arms, Nora’s hands clenched, opening and closing fast as all that came from her were whines and heavy breathing. Nick lost control himself for a moment, losing his mind in the sensation of Nora’s body as it clenched rhythmically around his finger. Hot and wet and oh so tight, Nick could only imagine what it would feel like if he had a cock she could wrap around him instead of his inadequate finger.

“Nick-” she started to say, her voice edging towards something. His finger pressed slowly and deeper into her wanton body. How far would she let him in? To the first knuckle, then the second, further still?

“Yeah, doll?” he asked, resisting the urge to wiggle or curl his finger. So deep inside, he could only imagine what kind of reaction he would set off with that.

She bore down a bit on his hand, her pupils blown wide with pleasure as she shifted, adjusting to his finger buried deep. At her silence, the detective rubbed his finger a bit against her clit, and she cried out, her body immediately tightening around his finger from the movement. “God!” she cried out

“Not God,” Nick teased, and with an affirming nod from Nora, began to slowly withdraw his finger from her walls, and then slowly push them back in. “Just a synth detective from Diamond City. Solving crimes.” His finger pushed in, his thumb circling at that button of pleasure. “And stopping criminals. Sound good to you?”

Her whines and begs for pleasure began to change, turning more into gasps and pants as Nick started to rhythmically slide and pleasure her with his hand. He continued to fuck her with his finger, his thrust so strong that she bounced and moved to bring herself closer to the edge. Her body shone with a thin layer of sweat, her head tilted back into the pillow behind her as she arched her hips to the detective crouched above her.

Nick didn’t let her have all the fun though, as if watching her beneath him wasn’t fun enough already. He also had her move one leg down so it laid on the bed, his own leg draped over it so he could grind and hump her thigh in time with his hand plunging into her tight heat.

The detective wanted to believe, though, that besides the physical touch, what brought both of them closer to finishing was each other making those amazing sounds.

Once Nick realized how much Nora loved hearing him talk, he was quick to take full advantage of it. Even more so when she asked him breathlessly to talk dirty for her. The synth, happy to oblige, leaned down so his lips were close to her ear, and asked in time with his hand plunging in and out of her at a steady pace. “You love this, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a steely growl at her ear, ripped from his throat. “You love the feel of my finger fucking you into this bed. Bringing you the greatest pleasure you’ve ever felt. Isn’t that right, doll?”

When she didn’t reply with a verbal response, Nick pressed hard against her clit, causing the beautiful woman to cry out sharply, her whole body tensing. The synth leaned forward again, and let his other hand go to squeeze and tease one of her breasts. His thumb brushed over the nipple, hardening it beneath him. He moved his hand to hold the full weight of it, squeezing it intermittently and memorizing how it felt for her pebbled nipple to brush against his palm as he claimed her.

“Tell me, Nora,” he rumbled to her, his low voice causing his chest and other parts of his body to vibrate. Nora pressed her head into the pillow behind her, her mouth gawking in pleasure. Not satistfied, Nick started to slow his pace, and his partner groaned beneath him in complaint. “Something you don’t like, doll?” he asked, curling his finger just enough to tease her, but not enough to bring her any real pleasure. She moaned desperately, but her sounds did nothing to appease him.

Finally, she gasped out, “I want it, Nick – I – I want you – want you – in – inside-”

“Inside where, Nora?” he asked, and started to recede his hand.

She whimpered, and clenched hard around his finger. “Want – I want you to keep. . .”

When her words trailed off, Nick bit at her neck. Not enough to cause any real damage or pain, but enough to spur more arousal in his partner, who loved the feeling of being claimed. “Your words, doll,” he ordered, giving her breast a squeeze before moving to the other one. “Tell me what you want this dirty old synth to do. . .”

At last, the will to hold out in Nora broke, and she opened her eyes to look at Nick, her voice a desperate beg for release, “Keep fucking me, Nick~”

He grinned. “Fine, doll,” and in one smooth movement, filled her canal again. “But tell me more. What do you like about this old synth filling you up, claiming you for himself?”

She gasped and whined as he filled her again, and he saw the effort pass over her face as she ground the words out. “Your hand feels so good – filling me up – shit – your rhythm. Nick your voice – I can’t get over your voice. Every time-” he gave a particularly hard thrust of his hand, and she moaned. “I just want to fuck you when I hear it-”

“Sounds good to me, Nora,” he said lecherously. His hand began to thrust into her harder and faster, effectively silencing her as pleasure spiked through her body. She clamped her hands at his arms, her eyes rolling back into her head from so much pleasure. Nick grinned in smug satisfaction when he saw this, and immediately hit the nail on it’s head when he whispered gruffly to her, like a secret only they shared. “I gotta admit that I love you like this – moving and so desperate for me. You’re so fucking beautiful, your walls clenching around me, wanting me to give you that release you crave.” She whimpered when he said this, and the synth got the message as his finger began to curl and brush along those sensitive areas, and his thumb pressed down harder to her clit. “You want that?” he asked, lowering his voice further.

She nodded. He lightened his touch. “Say it.” he ordered.

Nora didn’t say anything. His thumb wasn’t even touching her clit now, his hand totally still inside her. He growled, and pinched her nipple with his other hand. “Beg for it,” he commanded.

She whimpered, nodded, and opened her eyes again to gaze at Nick, her whole body flushed and red. “Nick – Detective -” she gulped; Nick tried not to show how much arousal he felt go through him when she called him detective. She went on, “Please, please- make me come around you.”

“You want that, doll?” he asked with a possessive growl. “You want this dirty old synth to make you come? You think I want to feel your hot walls pulsing and clenching around me?”

Helplessly desiring, Nora nodded almost frantically. “Please, Nick-”

He eyed her, something in his eyes glinting. “Call me detective again.”

To his own enjoyment, he saw pleasure mirror in her own eyes, and she was more than willing to oblige as she begged. “Please, detective.” Her legs opened up farther for him, and she gasped, her breasts heaving for air, “Make me come~”

Nick grinned lecherously, his voice a purr, “If you insist, doll.”

Before she could think much on what he said, Nick pressed hard onto her clit, rubbing it in fast circles. While his one hand plunged in and out of her hot center, his other metallic one went to squeeze and tease at her breasts. The synth detective moved his head down to start kissing and sucking at the nipples, eliciting more of those beautiful sounds from his partner.

“Sing for me doll; tell me how much you like this synth making you scream.”

Nora’s mouth opened, panting as he felt her near orgasm. Her walls were clenching harder around his fingers, and he could feel them beginning to flutter and spasm as she neared her peak.

His thumb circling her clit began to slide down around her entrance where his finger pulsed in and out of her body. She arched her back taut as if an electric charge went through every nerve, and Nick grinned, doing the same action again. He pressed hard at her clit, and went down again, reveling in the shudder that passed through her body as he did.

“Shi-shi-it, Nick!” she gasped. Her hands went everywhere, feeling for his head, the back of his neck, his arms, the tangled sheets on the bed beneath them. “More!” she demanded, keening. “More please more, I’m so close to-”

Her voice cut off from her cry, and Nick saw his opportunity. Moving his mouth off of her nipple to go to her ear, he growled low in his throat, his voice a commanding order. “Come for me, Nora.”

Like a rubber band snapping, Nora’s body jerked, her whole being flooded with pleasure as her walls clamped tight and hard over Nick’s fingers. Her thighs wrapped around his hips pressed hard into his body for stability, and she arched and thrust up from the strength of her release.

Nick groaned into her neck, listening and feeling her body as she panted. Gasping for air, Nora’s hand went to gently massage Nick’s neck, her touch assuring and firm. “Damn, doll,” he growled, pressing close to her. “You really know how to show a guy a good time, huh?”

Nora moaned quietly, the sound ending on a bit of a laugh as she tugged and played with the back of Nick’s head. “You do this with a lot of girls, Valentine?” she asked breathlessly, grinning at him through hazy, glowing eyes.

He chuckled, and shook his head. “Not a chance.” Slowly, the synth slid his hand from her tight walls. The woman beneath him released an involuntary gasp as her body had to adjust to the sudden feeling of his hand leaving the warmth of her heat. Nick leaned back a little to look at the slick coating his hand, and pushed himself from where he knelt above Nora. “Got a rag anywhere, doll?”

She laughed, rolling over a bit as she stretched her soft body, her tone absolutely glowing from the roll in the hay. Nora raised a brow at Nick, smirking. “You really know how to get the mood going, don’t ya, Nick?”

He would have blushed if he could, embarrassed a little by her teasing. “I – ah, I didn’t mean to -”

“Relax, detective,” she said, her voice easy and sensual as Nick felt another jolt of lust shoot through him. She smirked at the synth, “Sink is just up the stairs. I’ll be waiting.”

The synth didn’t bother trying to ask what she meant, but he nodded and went up the stairs, to where he found the small installed sink. The water was cold beneath his fingers of metal and synthetic fiber, and he scrubbed to ensure that none of Nora’s essence remained on his hands.

He dried himself off with a towel placed on the sink’s edge and grabbed a washrag next to it, getting it wet, too as he went back down to Nora.

In the bed, she had adjusted herself more comfortably, her head resting on a pillow with a blue knitted blanket covering her. Amateurishly made, the knit stitches had enough room that Nick could still see flashes of her soft and flushed skin beneath the crudely knit but warm blanket. She rolled towards Nick as he approached from the upper floor, and smiled in a secret kind of way as he came to sit on the bed’s edge.

The springs bowed beneath his weight, and he handed her the wet rag. “M’lady,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said, showing the barest of embarrassment as she took the rag from him, her slim and muscled arm slipping from the cover of the blanket before again disappearing. Nick found himself staring at the slope of her shoulders, lightly tanned by the skin and impossibly soft for someone who had survived the Commonwealth and it’s many dangers.

Wanting to be close to his partner, Nick adjusted himself on the bed. Nora scooted over for him; as soon as the detective made himself comfortable, she went to curl back to his side. His arm draped across her shoulders, just brushing her back above the blanket. His golden optics stared at her, observing the softness of her hair brushing his bare arms, the way her grassy green eyes hazed over when she looked at him.

Some energy had returned to her eyes, and one of her slim, creamy legs lifted up, and draped across his leg. She inched closer so her still-damp sex pressed up against his, still covered. “Are you ready for your turn?” she asked, playful, and tugged at the ends of his tie. She started to play with the hem of his pants, just starting to pull down--

Nick’s hand shot out, and stopped her, holding her carefully by the wrist.

Nora went lax immediately, and she looked up to Nick, curious and quiet.

Strained, Nick swallowed, the coolant pump in his chest quickening. “Doll-” he started, choked. “I don’t think..” Hesitation and embarrassment kept Nick from enthusiastically letting Nora strip him and ruin him. “I.. I’m. Just not sure.. that I’m ready for that.”

Understanding colored Nora’s eyes, and she nodded. When Nick let go of her hand, she drew it back to herself. “Sorry,” she started. “I should have asked.”

“It’s no problem, Nor,” he said, and relaxed with his hand on her bare waist. “Just.. something I want to work on. Before we cross.” He’d already told her before, about how he was insecure because of what was in his pants- (or lack there of, to be precise), but.. he still needed time.

“Of course, Nick,” she said. Her hand curled at his own chest, running lightly over the damaged panes, careful not to dip further than the outermost layer. “And you know, right-” she started, capturing his attention yet again. “I meant what I said, before. I don’t care what you have down there. I just want to make sure you feel good, too.”

Nick’s chest lost its’ tension, and the smile that eased across his face was soft. “I know,” he said. Taking hold of her hand, he brought Nora’s hand to his lips so he could kiss her knuckle. “But I appreciate you letting me have some distance on this.”

“Nothing less for my Valentine.” Nora circled her hand along the detective’s chest, her breasts pressed to his front, and she said to him earnestly, gazing into his eyes. “I love you, Nick,” she said, her voice a lovely song in his ear. “I really do.”

Nick grinned teasingly. “Doesn’t take a detective to figure that one out, doll,” he said, giving her shoulder a bit of a squeeze. Ensuring her eyes were locked on him, he returned just as truthfully, “And I,” he swallowed, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion as he gazed into her very being, “I love you, too. Love you more than anyone or anything I’ve ever known.”

Some kind of emotion flashed past her eyes; her hands tightened a little over his chest, flexing as she leaned forward and snuggled into his embrace. Nick adjusted himself so he could lie down better, and reveled in the feeling of this beautiful woman, his best friend, his partner, his lover in his arms.

For a little while, Nick enjoyed holding her, listening to the steady sound of her breathing, feeling how her chest rose and fell against his own. He let one hand distractedly slide up to her head, tangling and brushing lightly through her hair. The tresses tugged a little in resistance to his hand, but he allowed himself to delight in how soft her whole body was.

Around him, the room hummed with the sound of electricity. Somewhere behind him, he could hear a generator outside rumbling, and the unmistakable sound of Diamond City Radio playing downstairs on the coffee table. Besides that, the entire home was quiet, leaving Nick’s mind to his own devices as he focused on the internal whirring of his gears and sparking of his circuits.

He wondered eventually if she Nora had fallen asleep, and considered for a moment activating his own sleep protocols and joining her, but he was too wrapped up in this moment. Both of their arms and legs tangled together in each other’s embrace, simply absorbing their presence in the warm afterglow of their pleasure.

Nick looked down to his lover again in a new light, something deep in his chest swelling as he watched her sleeping face. Taking note of her eyeglasses still resting on the bridge of her nose, he reached forward to pluck them away with deft fingers. Carefully, he placed them on the drawer close by.

Without her glasses, Nick found himself able to study the features of her face better, and he took the time to memorize each part of it. The imperfections, the blemishes and old scars, the certain color of her cheeks and the deep color of her eyelashes and eyebrows. The pucker of her warm pink lips, the sound and measure of her breath as she let out a tired lungful of air. Every part of her was perfect, each piece making up a beautiful whole.

She was amazing. Nick found himself incapable of defining her beauty, her capability, her entire being. How a woman like her could fall for a guy like him was beyond reason.

But there were some mysteries in this world that Nick could live with.

He decided Nora Connors was one of them.

Chapter Text

Nick chose to activate his sleep protocols that night. The synth figured in the end that he would rather mimic sleep with Nora than stay up the night going what happened in his head over and over again until he went crazy.

Who’d of thought that Nick Valentine, synth detective of Diamond City, would find a dame as great as Nora?

It baffled the detective to no end, but he made the conscious choice not to question his luck with the universe. He opened his eyes sharply at seven am with Nora draped over him as she had earlier, her legs tangled with his. One of her bare arms lay over his chest, and he looked at the bedraggled state of her hair about her head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he couldn’t help but whisper, and leaned forward to press his lips to the crown of her hair.

Nora didn’t stir when he kissed her, and she didn’t wake for over and hour later. The detective considered waking her up, especially if they had so much to do today, but he couldn’t bear to disturb her from her restful slumber. With Nora especially being the kind of person who pushed herself to the maximum before succumbing to sleep, Nick found himself wanting her to get as much sleep as possible, whenever she could.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked. Leaning back his head, the synth closed his eyes restfully as he waited for the lover in his arms to wake.

Barely past 8:30, Nora finally began to shift around in bed. She pulled the edges of her blanket higher up her shoulders, covering the bare and exposed areas while inching closer to Nick for his radiating warmth. The synth possessively tightened his arm around her, smiling to himself when Nora sighed and mumbled some incoherent comment.

Nick knew Nora was beginning to wake up when she gave one ginormous stretch, her arms and legs extending to their full length, and a tired groan edging from her. Nick grinned when he saw her face pinch up from stretching, and he watched as her mind slowly grew again accustomed to the bright and woken world.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Nick said, smiling when he saw her eyes start to blink open. She turned her head to look at him better, and the grumpy worn-out expression melted away to glowing warmth when her eyes managed to focus on Nick.

“Morning, Nicky,” she mumbled, friendly as a hungry cat. “Is it morning already?”

It was hard enough to tell what time it was from the encompassing walls of Home Plate, but Nick’s internal clock alerted him to the fact that, yes, it was 8:30 am. Nick surmised that it was also difficult for Nora to figure out the time, because her overhead lights had automatically turned off in the middle of the night, casting the room in a murky, dusty glow.

“Yup,” he said, giving her back a loving pat. “I figure we got a lot of walking to do today. Ready to get a move on?”

At once, she groaned, and rolled a little to get more comfortable. “Mneh, but can’t we just stay here? You’re so warm,” and she snuck her leg over his thigh so she could grind her center to his leg. “I know ways we can keep busy. . .”

“Takes a lot to keep you at bay, doesn’t it?” Nick asked amiably, unable to deny the shiver that passed his sensors when he felt her grind against his leg. His hand went down to her hip, tickling her and enjoying the pleasurable trill that went through her body when he did.

“Oh you have no idea, detective, she mumbled. Her hand snagged his tie and twisted into the fabric, urging the synth closer so she could claim another kiss off his lips.

Nick chuckled into her kiss, his hand brushing along her scalp. “C’mon, Nor,” he said, his voice lilting. “We’ve got people to save today.”

She groaned, then went to bury her head in his chest. “Do we have to? Can’t the people in the Commonwealth save themselves for once?”

Nick laughed, “That’s a good one.” He lightly tugged at her hair with his fingers, and kissed the crown of her head. “But something tells me you’ll be more effective than they would.

Nora sighed in agreement, and pulled herself up Nick’s chest so she could insist on giving him one more kiss. “You’re too good of a person, Valentine,” she said, her voice a croon.

All Nick could focus on was the softness of her lips and the feeling of her breasts and naked body pressed against him, but he somehow managed to stutter out a word or two. “I think you’re being too generous, doll.”

Nora smiled at him, and some unknown emotion or thought seemed to pass over her face as she pressed one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. “No,” she said. “I’m not.”

Before Nick could have time to ask what she meant, or challenge her statement, she was clambering over his body to get to her dresser. In her quest to find clothes, she left her blanket behind, leaving Nick to enjoy the view.

“What’s our agenda for today?” he asked her, watching her like a hawk as she went to grab her Pip-boy from on top of the dresser.

“Hunt down those Angels,” she said, her back to him. From the drawer, she pulled out some clothes and began to dress. Nick looked at her soft expanse of skin, watching as she slowly covered each part of herself with her clothed armor, lined with ballistic weave. She dressed herself in a surveyor’s outfit, a small pack at her hip and clothed in faded red garb. Her pants went all the way down to her feet, protecting her from the elements with added protection from any kind of attacker. For shoes, she slipped on hardened combat boots, originally tan but now faded from walking on dusty roads.

For a finishing touch, Nora slipped on a newsboy cap, also lined with ballistic weave for additional protection. Tilting it at just the right angle, she looked to Nick with a grin, her smile playful. “See something you like, detective?”

“There must be some kind of ‘off’ switch for so much flirting,” Nick chuckled, standing to his feet and approaching her.

She looked him up and down, obviously checking him out. “Gotta say, I like the ‘no shirt, only tie’ ensemble you’re going with.”

“Like it?” Nick asked, striking a pose with his hands in his pockets. He tilted his body a little to give it a kind of model-like look, adding a kind of charismatic smile that was the definition of cheesy.

Nora laughed, throwing her head back and flashing her white teeth. “Very sexy,” she agreed, making a fake pout-y face back at him, batting her eyelashes. “I’m going to make it all the rages in Pari-is,” saying the place with a proper French accent.

Nick couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and he approached Nora with an easy grin. “Perfect, doll.” His hands went to wrap around her waist, holding her up close to him. Her arms looped at his neck, relaxed as she smiled at him, caught in the glow of his yellow eyes. Nick bent his head so he could press her forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he breathed in and out. “You’re perfect,” he murmured.

Nora blushed, to his enjoyment, and smiled warmly at him. She reached up a hand to brush along his lip, and her voice fell softly. “I doubt it, Nick,” she said. “No one is perfect.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, though. “You’re pretty damn close, though,” he said, warmed by her closeness.

She didn’t say anything after that, but the love in her gaze was clear enough. The beautiful woman in his arms leaned her head close so she could kiss his cheek before sliding from his embrace. “Let’s get you dressed up then, detective, and go save some lives.”

Nick smiled. “Those Angels won’t know what hit ‘em.”

(**)

The detective waved a casual hand good-bye to one of the Diamond City guards as he and Nora stepped out of the city gates. It was a beautiful day in the Commonwealth, with barely a cloud to show through the towering peaks of the aged skyscrapers. The sky, for the most part, was blue, and from what Nick’s sensors could feel, the radiation was pretty low, so it wasn’t likely that they would hit a rad storm while wandering today unless they went too far south.

“Which way do you think, Nick?”

Her voice brought him back to the present. A little ahead of him, Nora had paused to look back at her lover. They had just started walking along the eastern wall of the city, and Nick paused thoughtfully to think.

“Well,” he said out loud. “Why don’t you tell me, partner?”

“Goodneighbor,” she said, sounding far more convinced than Nick felt.

He smiled at her enthusiasm, though, his strides slow and easy as he neared her. “Why?” he asked, not in a demanding way, but one that was curious. He wanted to know her reasoning, understand her thought process better, even if she was right.

“It’s where the usual unsavory types tend to congregate, and even if our perp isn’t there, we can probably find someone that would have information on who we’re looking for.” Nora frowned. “His name was MacCready, right?”

Nick nodded, smiling proudly. “You got it, doll. Might be I have to change the name of the sign at the agency.” The two picked up walking again to Goodneighbor, side-by-side. Hopefully this time there’d be less ambushes.

Nora looked at the synth oddly, her gaze wondering. “What do you mean by that, Nick?”

He laughed, and couldn’t keep some of the embarrassment from his voice when he said, “I mean about putting your name up there with mine on the Agency sign.”

Nick watched as Nora glanced to him, something in her eyes dancing with warmth as she alluded, “Or we could always just keep the one up there.”

Um, ouch?

Rejection passed hard and fast through the detective, as if a gust of wind were about to push him over. He must have crossed some line – assumed something he shouldn’t have. He hadn’t thought Nora would be so quick to refuse. “Oh!” he said, “Sorry, doll. I didn’t mean to – didn’t mean to assume that you would want to-” Emotion rose up to clog his throat. “So-sorry,” he apologized.

Nora swung towards him, her eyes wide. “Nick!” she accused, her voice exasperated. He turned his gaze to her sharply, seeing the shock and bewilderment as she shook her head at him, impossibly smiling as she put her hands on her hips and looked up to the sky. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

He frowned, a bit hurt. “Well how is a guy supposed to take that, doll?’ He stubbornly stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at Nora with a bit of a curled lip, displaying his feelings of upset. “I just thought-” he swallowed and looked away. “I just thought that we were sharing the same – I mean after last night -”

“Nick,” she emphasized his name, some bemusement still in her tone as she grabbed the lapels of his coat to pull his face down to her level. She rolled her eyes at him, and regarded the detective with a wry brow. “I mean if it were . . . y’know,” she blushed, and his eyes widened, “our shared name.”

Oh . . .

Oh.

The detective’s eyebrows rose sharply to the top of his forehead, and he had a front-row viewing as he witnessed Nora’s own embarrassment rise in a flush up her face. She glanced to the side, avoiding his gaze, her face turning the most beautiful shade of reddish pink.

“You-you mean-?” Nick stammered, and her confirming silencecaused his surprise to grow. “Really, doll?” he asked, unable to hide his own disbelief. “You-You’d really- You-”

“Nick, we’ve been over this.” Her voice cut through sharply, like what she said was the most reasonable, obvious thing in the world. “I love you; you love me. I mean-” Her face was scorching, now. “Isn’t the next step logical?”

After a few moments, the clamoring in Nick’s mind gave way to sudden, witty charm, and a grin started to slide up Nick’s face. Before Nora had time to stop him, Nick had grabbed her hips and pressed his face closer to hers. “Well,” he said, layering his voice on thick like some kind of charming devil. “It’s not exactly the proposal I imagined, but. . .”

Nora gasped, laughing as Nick went in to playfully kiss and nibble on her neck. “Nick-!” she cried out, laughing. “This isn’t a proposal.”

“Of course not,” he said, laughing and drawing back from her so he could look at her blushing face. He lifted his undamaged hand so he could grab her chin and tilt her face up to look at him, her eyes smiling with her joyful grin. Nick felt his expression shift from playful to loving. “Believe me, I’m going to do this right by you.”

Her eyebrows knit up in a swoop of emotion, and Nick dared say he saw tears beginning to form in her eyes. She grabbed his other hand, bringing it to her mouth so she could kiss his metal palm, her lips leaving a mark on the already dirty material. “I don’t doubt it, Detective Valentine,” a smile edging her voice as she glanced at him.

“Gotta say,” Nick said, keeping her hand in his as they continued their walk. Now going downhill, they passed the old Hubris comic book shop, and went quietly past the once dangerous Boston Commons. “You sure know how to show a guy a good time.”

“I try,” she said with a smile.

They turned the corner of the Commons, Nick and Nora’s noses wrinkling at the stench that rose from the large pond. The synth turned off his olfactory senses to ignore it, and directed a question towards his beloved that had nagged at him for a while. “Nor, I got a question for you.”

“Name it, Detective,” she said, not too focused on his question as they neared the end of the Commons. The tour boat remained still as the two passed, and Nick could tell from Nora’s body language that she was scanning ahead for any hostiles that may be in their path.

Nick heaved in a sigh, and stated as plainly as he could. “I know we talked before about.. how you and the Angels are allied, or, at the very least, were allied while you were General of the Minutemen.”

He hadn’t asked his question, yet, but Nora went quiet as he started to lead towards it. “I guess it’s kind of a wrap-around way of doing it, but I wanted to tell you that you don’t have to go with me to find them.” It wasn’t exactly a question, but there was a question lingering in Nick’s mind. Will you still go with me?

“What are you saying, Nick?” she asked, apparently in no mood to dance with him today.

“I mean to say that I won’t be upset with you if you choose to back out of this one,” he finally got out, damning the consequences for whatever she decided. “I know you have allies, and that you going with me and helping me find them could compromise your relationship with them and could, I don’t know, maybe even put some people in danger. I wouldn’t want to force you to make that decision just because it’s me. I couldn’t bear that.”

All was quiet around them but for the distant sound of gun shots, and the crunching of their steps beneath loose gravel. Nora held Nick’s hand loosely, and tightened her grip on it a little as she considered his words. He waited for what felt an eternity for her to reply (his internal clock told him it was only 15 seconds), but Nora finally responded, her voice even and confident.

“I’m with you, Nick.” Relief immediately swooped through his chest, his breath involuntarily catching from her words. His mind raced with so much joy that he nearly missed when she began to speak more, “When I abandoned my post as General of the Minutemen, I gave up any professional relationship with the Angels that I had as General. That went to someone else to maintain the peace.” She looked at him, her eyes glinting in the light behind her eyeglasses. “They won’t seek revenge on me for being allied to you and helping bring them down.” She frowned. “At least, they won’t seek revenge on the Minutemen. They might try you, though.”

The thought caused fear to go through both of them. Each tightened their hands in one another’s, seeking childish comfort and reassurance that the other was there. Nora suddenly steeled her gaze, and looked to Nick sharply. “Will you be okay if I go with you?”

“I’ll manage,” Nick said, smiling lovingly at her. “They won’t get to me.”

She grinned, and nodded in agreement. “They won’t get to me, either,” she echoed, sounding determined.

“Well then, detective,” Nick said, grinning. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

The returning smile from Nora was contagious, and she pulled her with him towards the way that led to Goodneighbor.

(**)

The cemetery past the state building was blessedly quiet, which relieved Nick. The last thing he was in the mood for right now was going around shooting ferals when they had more important things to do.

Nora walked ahead, staying dutifully on guard and alert as she kept her machete close to her hip, ready to whip out at a moment’s notice.

Her steps were careful over the rocky and ruin-riddled ground. The boots she wore were stocky but provided good padding to keep her steps as quiet as possible while walking down the abandoned street.

“Getting close,” Nick called, feeling the need to warn her, even though the logical part of his mind reminded him that she had walked this path at least twice as many times as he had.

But even with that, Nora still nodded in affirmation to his words, recognizing their truth. “Way should be clear,” she said, keeping her voice even. “But ‘Mutants will sometimes hole up in the old insurance building. Figure we might as well be on guard, anyway.”

Nick nodded, and he wondered how she knew it was an old insurance building. Most people today didn’t even know what an orange was, much less have a conception on what something like insurance meant.

The detective found that he didn’t have time to confront her on the statement, instead falling quiet as Nora froze around the corner to Goodneighbor. Nick frowned, and approached her cautiously, peering out over her shoulder for a glimpse of what had caused her to pause like she did. “Everything all right?” he asked as he came to her side.

Then he, too, froze in his tracks.

There, leaning against the Goodneighbor wall as easy as could be, was MacCready. Looking as casual as could be with a leg tucked back behind him and a lit cigarette held between two loose fingers. Having just noticed the pair of detectives, the mercenary suddenly froze, and cursed under his breath.

“Shit,” Nick heard the former Gunner grunt.

“Hey! You!” Nick yelled, as MacCready suddenly took off along the road, towards the Corner bookstore, casting his cigarette behind.

Neither he nor Nora needed to so much as look at each other to know what to do, and the two detectives went into pursuit.

Nick pumped his arms at his side in a full on sprint, Nora doing the same, though she gasped a little from the strain. Nick wondered at how odd that was until he realized.

Her injury from the other day. It might not be healed yet.

“Don’t strain yourself, doll,” he called to her. “If you can’t keep up don’t push yourself.”

“I’m fine, Nick!” she called back; her eyes danced with excitement. “I’m not going anywhere!”

Against all the odds of the situation they found themselves in, Nick smiled, inspired by her enthusiasm. “You’ve certainly got the blind determination of a detective!” he called to her, grinning. Mac sprinted ahead of them, the tails of his coat flying out behind.

“Oh yeah!” she called back, her breathing beginning to harden. “Wonder where I could have gotten that from?”

The question was rhetorical and sarcastic, but Nick grinned anyway, and his mind began to spin with plans as they began to close in on MacCready. “Okay you keep on him, I’m gonna go around and intercept his path!”

Nora nodded shakily, panting, a wild look lingering in her eyes. “Got it!”

With a plan in place, Nick diverted his path, apprehensive victory beginning to rear it’s head. He didn’t want to place bets on it. Couldn’t say for sure, but this had to be their lucky break. It had to.

From the edge of his vision, he saw the flapping of wings as a single crow flew from one building to the other.

Then the sound of a body behind him thudding to the ground.

Nora-!

Nick looked back to see her body collapsed on the ground, her face planted in the dirt. To make it worse, her body lay still, so he couldn’t tell if she was truly all right or not. What happened, had she been shot? Was it her injury? Did it get torn open-?!

The detective immediately skid to a halt, his shoes slipping a little on the loose gravel. “Nora!” he called, fear staggering in him when she didn’t immediately reply, or even move.

Any thoughts or cares of MacCready immediately flew out the window of his mind as Nick hurried back to Nora. She lay no more than 10 feet away, but the steps it took him to get there made it feel like a mile’s worth.

Nick slid to the ground at her side, turning her over so he could analyze her condition. In a very human way, his hands shook as he grabbed her shoulders, his mouth open and panting as he got a look at her face.

Her eyes opened and closed blearily, as if she were just waking up. The panic in him began to rescind a little, but they weren’t out of the woods, yet.

“Nora!” he gasped, his throat closing up with emotion. “Are you okay? What – what happened? Did you faint?”

She blinked and shook her head. Miraculously, even after falling face-first into the concrete, her glasses were still in operable condition. The glass was still smudged, and the sides were scratched all to hell, but they weren’t broken.

Nora coughed; her eyes opened and closed slowly, like she were fighting off sleep. “Yeah, sorry. I think I- I think I passed out. What happened? What were we doing?”

Nick shook his head, relieved as soon as she started talking. Despair clenched his gut at the thought of MacCready getting away, but he held onto the hope that they would still find him.

They had to.

There was too much at stake in this case.

“It doesn’t matter,” Nick said, shaking his head. “We’ll figure it out some other time.”

Nora frowned, thinking, and clarity overcame her as she recalled. “M-MacCready! Goodneighbor! Shoot! Nick – we – I can’t believe I just-”

Embarrassment made it clear in her vocal tone and body language as she ducked her head down, displeased with herself. “I’m sorry, Nick,” she said. “If it weren’t for me and my dumb injury, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s fine, doll,” he said, the sensation of loss in his heart beginning to relax. “Theres nothing you could have done anyway. And besides, I’d rather you get better and heal than push yourself so you don’t get back to your full health.”

She smiled gratefully at Nick, but shook her head in amazement. “Okay, well, let’s get going, then.”

Nick processed a lot of things at once.

The sound of someone taking many fast-paced steps towards them.

The sound of a heavy item being swung through the air with intent.

The way Nora looked over his shoulder, and then back at him, her eyes calm, but her voice panicked.

“Nick-!”

A sudden feeling of pain burst behind Nick’s head, causing his eyes to see stars as he fell forward, his vision going dark.

And everything faded.

Chapter Text

“Dammit, Bruiser, you really had to do that bad of a number on the guy?”

“Hey! I was just doin’ what the boss told me to do, alright? No need for the third degree, Deaky.”

“She said to incapacitate him to the point where he wouldn’t get broken or damaged. You think any of that today falls under that?”

“Nicky boy is fine, trust me! Does more than a little whack with my hand to put someone out of commission.”

The second voice sounded impatient. “From a human, sure, but we don’t know about the generation of synth this detective is. So maybe next time, you can cool it!”

Sound was the first sensation that came back to Nick as he was brought from the sleeping world to the next. He identified the voices of a man, and a woman. The woman had some kind of Old World Irish accent, and the man . . .

“Luke?” he asked, his voice slurred. Had he and Nora been attacked? Did Luke come to save them again? Where was he? Either way, Nick’s voice sounded scratched and misused. “Is everything all right?” he croaked, trying to will his eyes to start working again. “Where’s Nora?”

Both were quiet at his question.

The next sense to return was his sense of sight. His eyes blinked open, and he started in surprise at what he saw.

Deacon, or Luke, whatever he liked to be called. He stood in totally different garb than what he usually did, sporting a pompidou wig in a clean white tee and pressed slacks, colored a light tan like creamed coffee. As usual, he sported his trademark Patrolman sunglasses.

Nick couldn’t really see the man’s expression behind the sunglasses, but he seemed angry.

With effort, Nick turned his head a bit to see the woman standing at Deacon’s side. Curvy but muscled, she framed her pointed and bruised face with short-cropped red hair that fell to the place above her shoulders. She had her arms crossed over her chest, only showing off how muscled her arms were, and Nick was reminded of Nora’s strength.

The woman frowned at him, and she pointed a finger at Nick, fast enough that the detective saw the flash of metal. She had brass knuckles on.

“See?!” the red-haired Irish woman said, her voice defensive. “He’s doin’ just fine.”

“Barely,” Luke snapped. “You’re lucky he’s waking up, and that Tinker Tom is as talented as he is. Can’t imagine what the Boss would do if you did more damage to him.”

“Oi, she said she wanted him alive, and he is, isn’t he? I did me job.” The woman crossed her arms, lips twisted in disgust.

Nick didn’t understand what was going on, and his senses were beginning to return to him as he rebooted his system. Sounds came in clearer, and his vision sharpened. He shifted a little where he was, realizing that he was sitting in a chair. He ran a diagnostic, and while his system recognized that he had been dinged up a little, everything was working fine.

“Luke,” he tried again, wondering if his voice was really working, but his processors told him he was. “Where-” he gasped, “Where’s Nora?”

He tried to sit up in the chair, but found that he couldn’t move his arms. He ran another diagnostic check and knew that all his limbs were functional. So why couldn’t he move them?

Luke didn’t answer him. Both people were actively ignoring him, still caught up in their own discussion. “Well that was too close,” he told her. “Ease up, next time.”

The woman scoffed and flipped her hair out of her eyes, giving a look to Nick that was nothing less than scornful. “Well, the job is done. Now what?”

The job? Nick frowned, and pulled at his arm again. What’s going on?

He was in a chair in a small room, no more than 12 feet long on all sides. Hard concrete floor and painted walls that had clearly faded by now. A single light bulb illuminated the area, casting long shadows to dance over the floor and walls. When Nick turned his head as best he could, he saw a heavy and closed metal garage door. They must be in some kind of Red Rocket station.

Nick looked down at himself, and suddenly realized what was going on.

His hands were behind his back, and he couldn’t move them, because he was tied up.

“Luke?” he started again, and tugged at his arms, feeling the rope that bound his wrists to the chair. Panic started to well in him, and he lifted his gave to Luke, searching desperately for some kind of reasonable answer. “The hell is going on here?” Nick tried to move his legs, and found that they, too, were bound to the legs of the chair.

Both looked at him, disinterest apparent in the way they stood. “Just calm yourself down, Nick,” Luke said pacifically, holding a hand up as if that would do anything to ease the detective. “There isn’t going to be any trouble with us, as long as you cooperate.”

“Cooperate?!” Nick snarled, pulling frantically at the bounds at his wrists. “The hell are you going on about?! Where’s Nora?” The detective looked around the room, not seeing his partner anywhere. “What’d you do with her, what’s going on?!”

Deacon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s fine, okay? Don’t worry about her.”

“What’s going on here? Answer me!” Nick snarled.

The man turned to the woman, his voice crisp as he relayed an order. “Bruiser, go get her, okay? Let’s just get this over with.”

The woman – apparently Bruiser? - rolled her eyes and started towards the door.

Nick went absolutely still as a swarm of information crashed through him like an ocean wave.

There were wings painted on the woman’s back. Red.

They’re with the Angels. Nick realized.

“You’re with the Angels,” Nick breathed. The door slammed as Bruiser left the room, and Luke conveniently chose to look away from him. When the man didn’t say anything further, Nick rocked back and forth in his chair, snarling angrily. “You’re in alliance with the Angels, Luke? How could you? What would Nora say?”

“Don’t bring her into this!” Luke bit out, his eyebrows lowered enough so Nick could tell the man was glaring at him. “She doesn’t know anything about this, all right?”

Nick glowered right back at him. “So what, you’re working with the Angels, spying on your sister for them?”

Luke sighed, and turned his head to Nick. “Listen, Nick. The Boss just wanted me to keep an eye on her, alright? No big deal. Just wanted to make sure she wasn’t going around stirring up trouble, especially after working for us.”

For just a moment, Nick saw the corner of Luke’s eyes, and how they narrowed at him, “Shouldn’ta let her join up with you. You think the Boss was gonna let that slide? Letting her try to hunt us down after she knew too much?”

Nick ground his teeth together, and he pulled at his wrists as he attempted to jostle them out. What Luke was saying, it didn’t make sense. “Why not kill her, then, if she knows too much?”

“The Boss isn’t like that, Nick. She’s not going to order someone to death if they don’t deserve it. So we’re just going to do this nicely.” Deacon shifted his weight, and crossed his arms across his chest. “We’ll let you and her go, easy peasy. Just need you to swear that you’re going to let this whole case go.”

The detective didn’t need to think long on it, and he shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “I was hired to find the killer of Nelson Latimer, and if that trail leads me to someone who works for the Angels, then so be it.”

Luke shook his head slowly in disapproval. “Come on, man. You’re working for Latimer? That rich asshole? Listen, I’m sympathetic to the guy’s loss, but you need to stop looking. Just tell him that the trail went cold. Because listen, even if whoever killed the guy isn’t in our ranks, we can’t let you get closer to the Angels and risk compromising us, okay? You’re a smart guy, you understand discretion, don’t you?”

Nick was used to fast-talkers. Heard ‘em as an old world detective, and heard ‘em today when someone was trying to get out of a sticky situation. Either way, Nick wasn’t a fan, regardless of the time period. “You know I can’t do that, Luke. I need to do right by this man trying to find the murderer of his son and bring them to justice.”

Luke shook his head. “C’mon Valentine. This isn’t a tough decision. Swear to us you’re going to drop the case.”

The detective felt his resolve harden in determination. “I can’t, Luke. You know I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” he bartered with a raised brow.

“It’s the same thing.”

“No it isn’t,” Deacon looked down at his feet, and heaved a weary sigh.

From the single-person door behind him, Nick heard the doorknob creak as it was turned. The wooden door swung open slowly, revealing the woman called Bruiser hoisting some kind of heavy object. She walked in back-first, grunting from the movement as she entered the room, dropping whatever she held to the floor. It landed with a thud, and from around her body, Nick could see that it was a chair. Nora?

“What took you so long?” Luke grumbled, turning to Bruiser.

“Don’t blame me,” she said. “I had to do all this by myself; don’t get all twisted up getting angry.”

Bruiser spun the chair to Nick, who strained hard against his restraints when he saw her tied up. “Nora!” he cried.

She looked unharmed, her head lolled to the side and her eyes were closed. He couldn’t see a bruise or evidence of any bleeding, but the detective surmised that she had been knocked out by Bruiser and the rest of these goons.

“Is she all right?” he asked, pulling at his arms, wishing he could stand and go to her. Desperation swelled through his voice, and he tried to inch his chair closer to her. “Damn you all, why isn’t she awake?!”

“She’s fine, Detective,” Deacon replied brusquely. “We just need you to understand the gravity of the circumstances you and your partner find yourselves in, here.”

Whatever Deacon was saying seemed to go in and out of Nick’s head, like he was saying absolute nonsense or nothing at all. Nick stared helplessly at Nora, his mind struggling to catch up so he could form words. “Nora,” he begged. “Come on, doll; wake up.”

“She’s fine, Valentine. Relax.”

Nick shook in his chair, rage forming his expression as he roared, “You bastards! If she’s hurt I’ll – I’ll -!”

“Nick?”

At the sound of her weary voice, Nick started, his eyes wide as he swung his gaze back to his partner. “Nora?” he asked, watching as she stirred. Her chair had armrests, so her wrists were bound in front of her, whereas Nick’s remained bound behind him. He saw her legs were tied up, too, rendering them both incapable of much chance of escaping.

“Nora, doll, talk to me,” he pleaded. All in all, she looked okay physically, but Nick worried regardless. In the scuffle, the must have taken off her surveyor’s jacket, because all she had on was her undershirt and trousers, old and frayed at the edges.

“Nick – what – what happened?” she asked, her eyes starting to blink wearily open. She straightened her posture a bit, and Nick watched as her eyes focused on him. “Nick – what?” She tugged at the arm rests of the chair, her brows beginning to knit with concern as her mind returned to their present state. Nick witnessed as the confusion in her eyes gave way to alarm.

The synth tried to get her attention, “Hey, Nora, it’s okay, doll, we’re fine. It’s going to be fine, we’re fine.” He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more, her or him.

Her green eyes focused on him when she heard his voice. Pain went fast through the detective when he recognized fear deep in her gaze. He could see her fright there, her anxiety and her uncertainty as to what would happen.

“Nick, what’s going on?” she asked. Her voice shook, and it tore the detective apart.

He shook his head, and tried to force a smile up his face, to try to be brave for her. “Just a little side track, doll. But don’t worry, we’ve got out of worst situations than this.”

She didn’t look convinced, and her head turned sharply when Luke spoke with a tone that was far too cavalier. “Look, this is all very touching and I can’t wait to let all these emotions out, but we need to get this moving along.”

Surprise moved fast over Nora’s face as Luke slid into view. “Deacon?!” she exclaimed, her voice lifting in surprise. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?!”

“C’mon, sis, don’t give me that tone,” he said, brushing off her question with a sweep of his voice. “That any way to talk to your dear brother?”

“Yeah it is I want to know why the hell Nick and I are tied up here!” It wasn’t a question. Nora usually wasn’t one for questions; she preferred beating them out of people if they were up to no good. “If this is a joke, it isn’t funny.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Nick grumbled.

Luke sighed. “Come on, now. Can’t we all just get along? And it’s like I said, we’re not gonna have a problem so long as you two cooperate with us.”

Nick glared and pulled at his restraints. “We’re not gonna do what you ask, Luke. No way, no how.”

Nora was smart, and she put the pieces together quickly. “Why? What do they want?” she looked between her brother and the woman standing behind them, who seemed absolutely disinterested in this whole exchange as she observed and cleaned her brass knuckles from the side. Nora glanced between them, her gaze furrowing in thought. “Who is this, Luke?”

“No one you ‘ave to worry about yet, little bird,” Bruiser replied. “You and Nicky boy just give us what we need and we’ll be out without problem.”

“They want us to stop hunting the Angels, Nora,” Nick supplemented, wishing he could spit at the feet of their captors. She turned sharply to look at him, her eyes narrowed. Nick gestured to Luke with the tilt of his head. “They’re with them. The Angels.”

Her eyes held absolute fury now, and she snapped her gaze to Luke with bared teeth. “The Angels, Luke?! You got tangled up with the Angels?! What would Mom say?”

“Mom’s not here,” Luke growled frostily. “I’m just doing what needs to be done so I can survive. What other choice do I have?”

“Well not murder, for one,” Nora sneered.

“Murder is different in this time period, Nora,” he said, as if that would change things. “And you know how I am with a gun. Even if it was part of my job to kill one of their targets, I’d have a bit of a hard time delivering.” He held up his hands innocently. “I’m just the messenger.”

Nora shook her head, but said nothing, grief plain over her features as she hung her head to hide her expression. Nick ached to reach out and hold her, to comfort her in some way, but it all felt short as he remained tied to the chair. Though only a few feet away from him, Nora might as well have been miles from where he sat.

She didn’t cry, but hopelessness was plain over her as Bruiser shoved her back so her posture was straight against the chair. “Sit up!” she snapped.

Rage coursed fast through the synth detective, and he strained uselessly against the rope to roar, “Don’t touch her!”

Bruiser scoffed at his empty threat, and went back to stand at Luke’s side. She cracked her knuckles. “Enough talking, Silver Tongue,” she said, eyeing the two of them. “Let’s get this going so we can wrap this up. I’ve had enough listening to you birds jabber on.”

Luke sighed, and shook his head slowly, as if this whole thing were against his wishes. “Alright, fine.” Turning again to Nick, he asked sharply, his words pointed. “Nick,” he said. “We need you to cooperate with us. Swear to us that you’ll give up the case, and we’ll let you and your partner go.”

Nick wasn’t able to get a single word out before Nora was interrupting him. “Don’t do it, Nick!”

“I’m not, doll,” he said, turning to look at her. “Of course we’re not going to give up the case. That’s not who we are.”

Thwack!

Before anyone could say a thing, Bruiser moved in, quick as a whip, and struck Nora across the face with her fist.

Shell-shocked, Nick found he couldn’t say anything for a moment, and only stared at Nora’s bewildered look. Her eyes reflexively filled with tears, one side of her face already beginning to grow a puckered red from the punch.

“You son of a-!” Nick roared.

“Ah – ah – ah,” Luke said, wagging his finger at the detective. “We warned you, didn’t we? We told you to cooperate with us and to agree with our terms. If you did so, both of you would leave unharmed. But you decided to do this, instead.” Luke gestured to Nora, who blinked rapidly as she fought to hold back the tears.

Pain twisted in Nick’s gut, and he wasn’t even sure how that was possible, but words tumbled from his mouth to offer useless, empty comfort. “It’s all right, doll, you’ll be all right. We’re gonna get out of this-”

“How?” Luke interrupted, his tone curt. “Because the only way I see you guys getting out of this is if you agree to our terms, Detective. Tell us you’ll stop the investigation, and we’ll let you both walk free. Otherwise,” he used his thumb to gesture to the woman behind him, “we’ll show you how Bruiser earned her name.”

The red-haired woman grinned. “Believe me, it’s not a problem,” she sneered.

Nick looked incredulously at the both of them, but kept his gaze focused on Nora, growing desperate as he looked at her. “Doll – you all right?” he asked, alarm sparking through his circuits and wires.

“I’m fine, Nick, I’m fine,” she said, probably trying to convince him more than her. “I’ve had worse, believe me.”

Despair filled him, but he admired her courage and tenacity. “We’ll get out, doll, don’t you worry-”

“I’m fine,” she said again, and though she seemed a little shaken, her eyes were hardened gems of determination. “We’ve worked with people like this before. Don’t give them what they want.”

Nick’s expression wrenched with pain, but he nodded, amazed at how much their moral compass aligned with each other. “Okay, doll. I won’t. We’ll stick through this, okay?”

Thwack!

Cait moved in quick for another downward strike at the same place on Nora’s left cheek. Spittle flew from her mouth as her head was violently knocked from the side, and Nick cried out hopelessly, “Nora!”

The second punch left marks in her cheek from the brass knuckles, some of the skin rubbed off to leave reddened scours on her face. “I’m fine,” she said to him. “I’m fine.” Her face began to darken more on the left side of her face, and Nick knew without a doubt in his mind that she’d have bruises from this.

Assuming they got out of it.

“You’re gonna be fine, doll,” he said again, their false comfort somehow encouraging them. “We’re fine, we’re both fine.”

This did not feel fine.

“Now come on, Valentine. We know you don’t want your partner all beat up like this, huh?” Luke asked, the condescension enough to make Nick’s jaw clench. “Just tell us what we need to hear, and this will all stop.”

“Don’t do it, Nick,” Nora said. The swelling from her face was already beginning to impede her speech, her tongue moving oddly against the puffiness of her cheek. “Don’t-” she shook her head. “Don’t give in.”

Nick wished he could cry, because maybe then it would help with the overwhelming feelings of guilt he was experiencing. Maybe it would be able to help with all this pain from watching Nora suffer.

But he couldn’t cry.

So he didn’t.

He only shook his head helplessly, and wished he could shrink away into nothing when Luke’s voice cut through his mind. “Let’s try this again, Valentine. Swear you’ll quit the case.”

Keeping his resolve, Nick shook his head. “No,” he refused.

Thwack!

“Dammit hit me!” he pulled and scraped at the rope tying him together. “This has nothing to do with her, so stop!”

Luke shook his head, and Bruiser stepped back, revealing Nora. A bit of spit dribbled down her chin, and she wiped it off with her shoulder. Luke’s charismatic voice rang with false regret, “I wish I could, but this is an order directly from the boss. We can’t harm you – don’t want to cause irreparable damage – but Nora is flesh and blood. She’ll heal.”

Bruiser added knowingly, “Besides,” she cracked her knuckles, “this hurts you more, anyway.”

The detective gazed achingly at Nora, his heart and his will cracking from the strain of watching the woman he loved be beaten so ruthlessly. “Nora – I’m sorry,” he choked. “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay, Nick, it’s fine,” she said, her voice thick with tears as they dripped down her face. “Stay strong, don’t give in.”

From the side, Luke looked between the pair of them, curious but thoughtful. “You love her, Valentine?” He sounded disbelieving, like such a thing weren’t possible.

Nick nodded, gazing at Nora, who met his sorrowful golden eyes evenly. “More than anything,” he rasped.

The Angel operative shook his head sadly, and lamented, “Well isn’t that just beautiful. The two detectives, partners in more ways than one.” He held a hand to his heart, “That just touches me, right there. But it’s not going to stop us from doing what needs to be done.”

Nora and Nick held gazes with each other, and Luke again asked the words, “Valentine, will you stop investigating the Latimer case?”

He had to look away from Nora, breaking their locked stare. “No,” he croaked.

Thwack!

Nick flinched, screwing his eyes shut and turning his head away, as if that would block the pain coursing through his soul at the sound of his partner being beaten. As if that would protect him from the sound of his partner’s face being pummeled.

To Nora’s credit, she didn’t give her attackers the satisfaction of crying out in pain. If she dared to look them in the eye while they beat her, Nick wouldn’t know. All he knew was that Nora was hurting, in pain, and in danger because of him.

In the back of his mind, and in the deepest part of his soul, Nick knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself for this.

“Give up the case, Valentine,” Luke said.

Nick mutely shook his head, bunching his shoulders up as much as he could to block the sound of Bruiser striking Nora again.

“Valentine.”

He grit his teeth. “No,” he rasped.

Thwack!

“Ah!”

The sound of Nora crying out in pain alerted the detective, and he swung his head towards her, immediately regretting it.

Blood spurted from Nora’s nose. Nearly her whole face was red, black, and blue all over, swollen and bleeding in some places from where the knuckles had scratched her. Her lip was busted, a crack of blood showing at it, and she sported a black eye on her left.

A moan of pain and disgust slipped from Nick’s throat when he saw the damage over her face; his hands clenched at the sight of his beloved, and words tumbled from his mouth. “I’m sorry, Nora, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry.”

Nora shook her head slowly, so Nick knew that at least she could still hear and understand him. “It’s okay, Nick,” he managed to hear her rasp. “I’m okay.”

No, no you’re not, he wanted to wail.

“You sick bastards,” he snarled at them, pain choking his throat. “Stop doing this! She doesn’t deserve to be-”

“This will all stop if you comply, Nick,” Deacon said, his voice not so much as shaking while his sister was beat in front of him. “Just tell us you’ll stop searching for the Angels, and all of this will end.”

Nick closed his eyes and thought of Nora; he saw her beaten face and her swollen skin, her bleeding scratches and purple, bruised eye.

He thought of Malcolm Latimer looking at him desperately, pleading for him to find his son’s killer.

A grieving father.

And two determined detectives.

Nora watched Nick from the corner of her eye, and he saw something calculating in her gaze.

He took it as an unbroken spirit.

Grieved, Nick slowly shook his head. “I can’t,” he croaked.

Luke sighed long and slow, and nodded to Bruiser. “Again,” he ordered.

Nick tried to look away, but Luke strode over and forcefully turned his head. “Don’t you close your eyes,” he ordered, his voice a snarl. “Look in the eye of the person you’re hurting.”

The detective tried to wrench his head from the grip of Luke, to no avail, and his mouth opened in a silent wail as Bruiser got Nora again with a left hook to Nora’s face. Her glasses went flying, but miraculously didn’t break when they hit the concrete ground.

Nick felt his hands shaking, and his confidence beginning to crack.

“Again, Valentine. Stop the investigation.” Luke’s cold and unforgiving voice.

He managed to meet eyes with Nora one more time, and watched as tears slid down her face when she gazed at him. She blinked once, and he saw her mouth silently at him.

He wanted to close his eyes, wanted to block out the words from getting into his mind, because he knew that as soon as she said them, he wouldn’t be able to hold out anymore.

But he saw them, hungered for them; his soul cried out and he watched as her lips whispered out the words that would damn him.

I love you.

It sounded like a farewell.

“I-I can’t,” he stammered, unsure of if he was answering Luke, or the confession mimed from Nora’s mouth.

Luke made some kind of gesture to Bruiser, and the woman raised her fist.

Nora closed her eyes, bracing herself somehow for the blow.

Nick’s will snapped.

“STOP, DAMN YOU. STOP!”

Every party in the room froze, though Nora didn’t, and Nick thought she might have passed out.

A tear-less sob choked Nick’s throat, and he bent his head in grief. His shoulder shook in fear, and he tried to piece together his resolve.

But you couldn’t return something to it’s original form after turning it to dust.

The captors waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, Luke’s voice beckoned to him. “You’ll do it,” he said, and it sounded like a statement or an order rather than a request.

Every part of Nick felt torn apart, and he closed his eyes in grief. “Yes, alright? Damn you to hell, I’ll do it.” He forced his eyes open so he could look at Nora’s beaten and broken body. “Just let her go, dammit. Let her go.”

He wanted to cry, wanted to scream and wail and hurl every obscenity known to man at them.

But all he could see was Nora.

Luke must have signaled Bruiser, because the woman walked up to the closed door behind Nora and banged on it twice.

Immediately, two people bustled in. A man in a white lab coat with slick black hair, and that damn mercenary he and Nora had chased. MacCready, the one in faded green Gunner clothes and a ragged duster. The assassin didn’t cast so much as a glance in the synth’s direction.

The man in the lab coat cast only one sidelong look at Valentine, his gaze critical, then turned promptly to Nora. He crouched in front of her, observing her damaged face in a strangely professional way. He grumbled a little under his breath, and Nick tensed as the man stood and addressed the other people in the room. “Get her to the next room at once.”

MacCready and Bruiser went to two sides of the chair and lifted it up, causing Nick’s mind to go into an immediate frenzy. “Hey, where are you taking her?!” The thought of them taking Nora away from him was like ripping his soul in two.

“Doc’s the best in the business, Valentine,” the smooth-talking Luke said to him. “He’ll fix Nora up and she’ll be walking out of here with you in no time.”

“No thanks to you!” Nick snarled.

The man in sunglasses said nothing at that, instead choosing to turn and walk away after his companions. “You stay in here until we’re done,” he called, “and we’ll come get you, okay?”

The door slammed closed, and Nick was alone.

He could hear the sounds of voices outside the room, but they were muffled by the walls.

The only thing Nick wanted was to curl up into a ball and disappear forever.

But he couldn’t do that.

Moving against the chair behind him, Nick began to rub and scrape his wrists against the taut rope. In his skeletal hands, he knew of every exposed piece of metal, every sharp angle and screw. And in this case, one of the screws pressed right against the rope, which he could already feel beginning to give.

Knowing he was close, Nick used the exposed screw to keep rubbing at the rope, grunting quietly to himself as the strands began to

“I’m gonna come get you, Nora,” he breathed to himself quietly. “I’m gonna get you out of here and we’re gonna go back home – have a cup of coffee and laugh about this whole thing.” He chuckled under his breath. Yeah. The time they went head-on at the Angels and walked away.

Such a fantasy felt lifetimes away.

He scratched the screw on the rope as quickly as he could, and a cord of it finally snapped. Nick pulled hard at the ropes, a satisfied grin pulling at his lips when the rope gave way beneath his inhuman strength.

Yes.

Immediately, Nick bent to begin working on the ropes around his ankles. He managed to make quick work of them, relieved as the rope gave way and pooled at his feet.

Imagining a heart beating fast in his chest, though the detective knew it was coolant, Nick stood from the chair. He pat himself down quick, feeling for his gun, but knew that it wouldn’t be there. It must be outside somewhere. Nick walked as quietly as he could do the door, his body crouched down. He twisted the doorknob, easing the door open just a crack as he adjusted the acuity of his hearing to listen for anything outside the door.

Voices, but still muffled. He couldn’t quite hear them.

He opened the door a little more, and saw a counter. The floor was a faded and discolored sea green. Definitely a red rocket. The scent of gas and oil filled the air, causing his nose to wrinkle in a very human way.

On the counter, Nick saw empty shelves, but atop it was Nora’s surveyor’s jacket, draped lightly over the edge.

And there.

In her pocket. Sticking out.

Nick’s pistol.

Carefully looking both ways, Nick checked for any sign of guards in the small gas station. One door seemed to lead to the outside, while the other way down the hallway led to another exit and a hallway adjacent to the room Nick was in.

That was where the voices were coming from. The hallway.

Nick crept forward, his steps totally silent, and he retrieved his pistols, checking it to see that it was undamaged and still loaded.

Thank God, he thought, holding his pistol to the ready. He pulled the jacket down from the counter, and rifled through it, hoping for anything useful.

Some frags, spare ammo, a small wooden soldier toy, and a pack of bubblegum.

Wait.

Nick held three signal grenades in his palm, carefully regarding their significance.

The Brotherhood seal confirmed their purpose and origin, and Nick wondered if something as crazy as that would work.

He couldn’t take on so many people alone. From what he knew, there were at least 4 Angels in the next room over, and there could be more.

But he didn’t want to leave Nora. No chance, no how.

But he couldn’t stay in that room and wait for them.

They needed to be stopped.

Nora would want to take action now.

Nick clenched his jaw, and snuck around the counter to one of the exits, the one farthest from the hallway.

Standing in the doorway of what was a Red Rocket, was able to get a small look around. It was located in a city part of the Commonwealth, likely not too far from their spot in Goodneighbor. In fact, Nick scanned the visible skyline for the Mass Fusion building, looking for the tallest tower in the old Boston ruins. When he tilted his head back and saw the tower reaching over his head not too far from here, Nick knew that they were close to Goodneighbor.

Here’s hoping some Brotherhood goons are nearby. Pulling the pin from the grenade, the detective tossed it into the open air, rolling the canister so it wouldn’t make so much noise. Almost instantly, blue smoke began to hiss from the container, and Nick prayed that the Brotherhood members who arrived wouldn’t be total assholes.

And hopefully they wouldn’t shoot Nick on sight.

For additional measure, Nick rolled a second grenade in another direction, in case some wind would catch it and carry it further. Then, he did the same with the last grenade, praying that a Brotherhood squadron of some sort would recognize the smoke and come to aid.

Hardly thirty seconds had passed that Nick saw a platoon of Brotherhood members walking from around the corner of a building. As usual, they appeared to be grumpy with frowns on their faces, but Nick could have smiled at the sight of them.

He stood to his full height, and waved them over with in a very ‘help me’ sort of gesture.

Thankfully, they spotted him, and didn’t immediately shoot. He was also grateful to see that there weren’t any Brotherhood members in full Power Armor gear, as they would have shook the ground when they ran.

The platoon had a total of four members, which would hopefully be enough to drive out the Angels from their hole. They came in through the blue smoke, regarding Nick with suspicious and critical eyes. All four were in orange garb, but likely armed to the teeth, if Nick could claim to know Brotherhood members.

“Did you set off those grenades?” the leader asked, a bald man with buzz-cut hair and a judgmental tone of voice.

Nick didn’t get a chance to reply, because a small Scribe shouldered their way forward. “Nick?” she asked, and the detective felt relief soar in him when he recognized the young face of Scribe Haylen.

The feeling of relief was so great in the detective that he fell towards her, abandoning all propriety to wrap her in a hug. The woman returned the hug as comfortably as she could, and pat his shoulder with as much friendliness she could afford.

“What – what’s going on, Nick?” Haylen asked, confused.

“Scribe you – you know this synth?” the one in charge snipped out.

“He’s an ally of Paladin Connors, Rhys,” she said, turning to the strict man. “We can trust him.”

Rhys. Nick had heard that name before. Nora must have mentioned him.

“We don’t have time for this,” Nick said, desperation thick in his voice when he recalled the situation. “Nora’s in trouble, we gotta get her outta there.”

Haylen turned to Nick, and all Brotherhood members present frowned in concern. “Nora?” Haylen asked, alarm filling her voice. She looked to Nick sharply. “She’s in trouble?”

Nick shook his head, “More than trouble.” He looked at her, “The Angels.”

The detective made short work explaining to the Brotherhood about the situation he and Nora found themselves in. He had to choke the words out when he got to the part of Nora being beaten until Nick conceded, and the detective noticed how Rhys looked at Nick with a little bit of a softer gaze. Maybe it was some respect.

Unsurprisingly, Haylen was the most sympathetic to him, while the other Brotherhood members looked on in awe and surprise at his tale.

“She’s in the gas station?” Haylen asked, looking over Nick’s shoulder to the seemingly innocent building.

Nick nodded. “There’s at least 4 in there.”

Rhys looked at the others around him, then to Haylen, the frown heavy over his brow. “Haylen,” he said, and his voice softened to a whisper, though Nick could still hear every word. “Are you sure we can trust this synth?”

Haylen frowned at her squad leader, and she lowered her voice even more, though it came out sharp. “Rhys. You and I both know that just because someone is a synth, that doesn’t make them any less trustworthy than a person like you or me.” She looked at him seriously, her stare challenging and her tone unforgiving.

The two exchanged a look, his one of shame, hers one of pain and loss. In a way that only close people can do, they seemed to have a back and forth conversation with just an exchange of glances.

Rhys conceded, and finally nodded. “All right,” he agreed. Turning to Nick, he shortly said, “we’ll go with you on this for now, but if it’s a trap, your head is the first one I put a bullet in.”

Nick grit his teeth. “Fine,” he said, knowing he didn’t have time to waste with a Brotherhood goon while Nora was surrounded by the enemy. “But listen, you can’t kill anyone in there.”

Now all of them looked up in surprise. Rhys frowned especially sternly, and one of the younger Brotherhood members looked especially put out. “Why not?” she whined.

The detective looked at her sternly, a bit irked at the thought of such a young person being so eager to kill. “Because if you shoot them all to ribbons, you might not only hit Nora, but if you hit enough of them to kill them, we’ll lose people that might have vital information as to where to find the Archangel.”

“They sound like a pretty capable group of people,” one of the other Brotherhood members said, a young man about the same age as the other young woman in the group.All present turned their gaze to him, who blushed a little under their attention. “Should we maybe call in some back-up? If they’re as good as we believe they are, we should have as much help as possible.”

Smart kid. Nick frowned, and wondered if he was losing his touch.

The others turned to look at Nick for confirmation, and he nodded in stunned agreement. “Uh – uh yeah. That – that would make sense.”

At his stunned silence, Rhys frowned at him, while Haylen looked on him with sympathy. “What do you want us to do, Nick?” the scribe asked.

Nick reeled for a moment, and came to the only conclusion he could. “I’ll go in first,” he said. “I’ll be the best chance of a distraction. If you hear any gunshots go off, run in. Or if it’s been longer than 15 minutes. I don’t want to stay in there with them longer than I have to. If I want you to stay out, I’ll get some kind of signal to you.”

Rhys considered it. “That should be enough time for us to get some backup out here. I know another squadron not too far, and they should make it by then if they book it. But if possible, try to stall longer just in case.”

He had to get some information from the Angels during that time, or they’d clam up for sure after being captured. Nick was sure of it. It ground him to no end to think of Nora with them longer than she needed to be, but they needed information for the case.

Nick was a lot of things. A quitter he was not.

And he would be damned if he let Nora stay with them longer than he had to.

God. What if they already realized he was gone?

He looked anxiously back to the gas station, relieved when he saw no one running towards them or lining up a shot. The detective looked to the Brotherhood members nervously, and said decisively. “I’m going in. You know the signals?”

They all nodded at him in turn, and Haylen spoke words of fortune, “Good luck, Detective. We’ve got your back.”

And somehow, Nick believed them.

Without another word, Nick started back to the gas station, hearing the troop behind him go into fits of whispers in his absence, likely arguing the morals of helping a synth and synth ally. He found that he couldn’t begin to care, not when Nora’s life was at stake.

The synth went down into a crouch as he neared he building, holding his pistol close, his finger clicking off the safety. He was careful not to place his finger on the trigger, though, not wanting to fire off a shot before it was absolutely necessary.

The coolant going through his tubes went faster as he neared the station, his mind deciding to show in his mind’s eye the images of Nora being beaten to a pulp.

Nick swallowed past his fear and the images in his head, and went forward. Thinking of Nora gave him hope, gave him a reason to move forward.

He crossed into the Red Rocket, and paused when he neared the edge of the counter. Around it was the hallway, and when Nick peered over it carefully, he saw a hallway that led to two rooms, presumably a bathroom and some kind of office.

The door to the office was closed, whereas he could see a glimpse of the bathroom from where he crouched.

He kept his back to the counter, and steadied his breathing.

For Nora.

Nick went around the counter, his pistol at the ready. From inside the closed room, he could hear voices talking, but it was hard to discern what they were saying.

Careful, the detective went to the last wall separating him and the others. From within the room, he heard the man known as Luke speak, “She gonna be all right, doc?”

“She’ll be fine, Deacon,” a crisp voice Nick didn’t recognize said, his manner curt. It must be the man in the lab coat. “A little beat up, but I’ve seen her at worse.”

Nick frowned.

“I mean shi – crap, Cait. Tone it down a little next time. You almost beat her face in.”

“Would you all give me a break? I did exactly what the Boss ordered me to do. Not like any o’ you chickens would be able to do the same.” Bruiser’s voice. It sent chills through Nick’s sensors. They called her Cait. Another code name, or her real name?

“Yeah because some of us prefer to use words over our bare fists,” Deacon snipped.

She laughed, “Oh Deaky, you always know just what to say!”

Nick glowered.

“How much longer do you want us to leave the dick-tective in there, Archangel?” Deacon’s voice asked, and a chill went fast through Nick’s body.

Archangel?

The mob boss. . . the one in charge of the whole organization.

Was here?

Why would she be here, handling some kind of small case between two detectives?

What did she have to hide?

Alarm rose up through the detective, and he knew that if he needed to act, he had to do it now.

In the back of his mind, he could hear Nora chiding him, “You can’t sit on your ass forever, Nick. Go get the son of a bitch and bring her in!”

Rising to his feet, Nick stood up, and channeled every bit of courage he had in him.

This ended now.

Before Nick could move in and piece all the information together, the door slammed hard and suddenly against his form, staggering him and nearly careening to the floor.

Someone kicked his pistol out of his hand, and Nick glared in fury at the two Angel operatives standing over him.

“Boss was right,” Mac said with a sly grin to Bruiser, who looked down at Nick with just as deviant of a grin. “Someone was listening in on our conversation.”

A pause, and then Luke’s voice called from inside the room. “Boss says bring him in.”

“Don’t touch me!” Nick snarled as the two muscles reached down to manhandle him. The detective swatted and kicked at them, but the two easily overcame his sloppy attempt to keep away.

Mac and Cait dragged the synth by his arms and closed the door forcefully behind them. Nick glanced around quick to take stock of what was in the room. A dog barked, drawing Nick’s attention.

The dog standing to attention was Dogmeat. Though his bark was with the intent to alert, his tail still wagged amicably at the sight of Nick.

What -

What was Dogmeat doing here? The dog was completely loyal to Nora – had he come here sensing her distress? But if that was the case, why wasn’t he hostile toward the people around them if they were a threat? Did Nora order him to stand down?

Enraged and confused, Nick pulled his arms against the ones holding him, and MacCready grunted from the effort of keeping the detective in place. “Well, we’ve certainly got a troublesome one here, don’t we?” he asked, his voice a growl.

“You’ll see how troublesome I can be,” Nick snarled back, pulling and attempting to twist his arms, but to no avail. The Gunner kept a tight hold on him, and Nick felt another pair of hands come to help the synth rise to his feet while they aided MacCready.

“Damn you all!” he roared, infuriated by the situation, and praying that the Brotherhood he had allied with would stick to the plan. It was on Haylen’s shoulders, now.

“You’re more resourceful than we thought, Valentine,” Luke said with a grin. “We’ll be sure not to underestimate you again.” Nick looked at him, and ground his teeth in fury.

He just needed to stall.

Thinking of the Archangel, Nick glanced at all the people in the room. Bruiser, MacCready, the doctor, and Dogmeat off to the side, watching with dog-like interest in the whole scenario. His ears were turned up in curiosity, but his tail wagged slowly, as if sensing the tension in the room.

And there. Standing behind an office desk, leaning back with one hand daintily extended and holding a lit cigarette, was the Archangel.

Her back was to him, so he could only see the outline of her figure from the light cast by the cigarette and by a lamp from the far corner of the room. Lean but surely muscled, she wore an impossibly clean dark navy suit, almost black, and topped off with a matching black fedora, striped with a band of silver.

The woman definitely had a flair for the dramatic, but her style and her poise clearly echoed the same energy as the old-world mob bosses. It almost hit a nostalgic nerve in the detective, if this whole situation wasn’t so messed up.

The light from the corner cast her entire figure into a silhouette, so Nick couldn’t see much of her hair color or style, and she had her left arm crossed in front of her waist so he couldn’t see that, either. Like she was hiding or holding something.

Mac spoke up, “Dogmeat didn’t alert us to him.” A question lay in his voice.

Lukemoved towards the end of the office desk, but didn’t go to his boss’s side. “Dogmeat knows Nick, thinks of him as a friend. Of course he wouldn’t alert us to him.”

Nick glared, watching the Archangel with nothing less than utmost contempt, “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Archangel. And I’m not going to let you get away from any of it.”

All present in the room remained silent. Apparently none of her lackeys would respond in her presence without her go-ahead.

They were sheep, no different than the goons from Pre-War times that would blindly follow their leader.

“The name Nelson Latimer mean anything to you?” Nick went on, hoping that what he said wedged the stake of his words deeper into her conscious. “Because from what I can tell, the trail definitely ends at your group of lackeys. And I don’t know why you would want me to stop investigating his murder if you were all innocent.” He paused, “So unless you have a damn good explanation, whoever you’re protecting is guilty.”

Again, the detective was met with only silence, which only enraged him further. Pulling at the hands holding him back, he struggled to surge forward and beat the living daylights out of this cryptic mob boss. “And you sure as hell got a lot to pay for, because no one beats up my partner and gets away with it, ya hear me?! I’ll make sure you and every person in this room pays! You’re all accountable for what you’ve done!”

When he looked around the room once more, rage filled him again. “And where the hell is my partner?! I swear if you’ve done anything to her, I’ll tear you apart myself!”

The returning silence was deafening, and Nick wanted to scream in frustration from the empty response. “Say something, dammit!” he roared, and tugged uselessly against the captors holding him back. “For all you’ve done to me, I at least deserve to hear a response from your disgusting mouth!”

All the followers were quiet, but looked to their leader for guidance. Luke, frowning, glanced to the Archangel, a question in the tilt of his head. The man looked like he wanted to say something, and when his mouth opened to say it, he promptly closed it when his leader heaved a tired sigh. She moved her right hand up to her mouth for a puff from her cigarette, the hot smoke causing the light in front of her to flicker as she breathed it out.

Luke finally managed to speak, starting towards her with a single step and a cautiously outstretched hand. “Archangel, you don’t have to-”

She tilted her head just slightly at him in a way that was barely perceivable, and the man went silent. He bowed his head reverently, and stepped back in acceptance of her decision, though not a word passed between them.

She took another drag off the cigarette, blew it out, and spoke to Nick for the first time.

“You just always have to be the good guy, don’t you Detective Valentine.”

The coolant in Nick’s tubing stuttered, and the fans in Nick’s body honest-to-God stopped as a final puzzle piece fell into place. Or not a puzzle piece. Like he had finally discovered a key that unlocked a single chest, but once it opened, it became a Pandora’s box of information that suddenly all fell into place.

Everything in him for one horrified second ground to a halt.

But his mind ran a million miles an hour.

He thought he had it all figured out.

He thought he knew the rules of how the game was played.

That when he found the bad guy and confronted him, that good would triumph over evil.

Nick knew now, though, that no matter how this dance ended, he would lose.

He was set up to lose.

He was always going to fail, regardless of the outcome. Even if he put the Archangel away for good, or not, he wasn’t going to win this game.

Nick thought Nora wasn’t in the room, that they had taken her away somewhere else, intent on making him go on some kind of wild goose chase.

He was wrong.

Nick was so, so wrong.

She was right there.

This whole time.

This whole goddamn time.

He didn’t want to think it. Didn’t want to think it because as soon as he thought it, it would be true. Everything around him would collapse, and nothing would be the same anymore.

Don’t do it.

Don’t do it, Nick.

Think something else.

Believe something else.

But don’t-

Don’t-

Please.

Please.

Don’t do this.

A chuckle from his most anticipated and powerful adversary, and she slowly turned to face him.

Don’t-!

She boldly looked him in the eyes, a sad smirk playing across her face, as if she was mourning the fact she had bested him.

“What, Valentine?” the Archangel asked, her voice a soft murmur. “No quick remark?”

In a horrible fit of forced acceptance, Nick’s knees gave from under him, and his captors let him fall to the ground. His hands went out to catch him, but they wobbled under the strain, too, and a part of him distantly wondered if he could faint – if he would faint.

A moan of loss and grief slipped from his mouth, and the thought went through him before he had a chance to block it.

Nora was the Archangel.

Chapter Text

That’s it.

It was over.

Nora looked at him evenly, and while her face was bruised and beat up, she still maintained control over her expression and demeanor. Every part of her radiated confidence and steadfast stoicism.

Even now, she was so damn strong.

And he – he was –

A million emotions went through Nick, so fast that he had no clue as to how he could name them all.

Denial. Fury. Disbelief. Despair. Grief and loss.

Betrayal.

Betrayal that hit him like a battering ram – like ten deathclaws running at him full speed and trampling him to the ground.

He had never felt this before, and never so strongly. Not when he woke up in a metal body, not when his old partner left him, not when the mayor of Diamond City turned out to be a synth.

This was personal, this was earth-shattering.

“No -” he gasped, his body tilting back like he was going to faint, but his hands caught him as he leaned back onto his knees. He shook his head helplessly. “You – you can’t be.”

Nora looked at him mournfully, but there was something final in the tone of her voice. “I’m sorry, Nick,” she said. “I never meant for you to find out, not in this way, at least.”

God, as if that mattered anymore.

He thought of all the times she had said little things, like hints, drops of information as to her past and who she was. And he had picked them up, stored them away for later. Took them at face value, believed she was just an enigmatic person that mystery crowded around.

Nick treated her like she was a puzzle worth piecing together, and believed she went along with this, enjoyed placing the pieces where they fell so he could pick them up and put them in the proper place.

He was a fool.

All those clues were hints to a sinister past, not to a more complete person.

How she could be so calculating.

Why Deacon had followed them so closely.

Why she had so many allies across the Commonwealth.

They were informants. Planted assassins to do her bidding if someone stepped a single toe out of line.

And he – he was just-

It was all-

“It was all a lie,” he said, his voice a croak as he looked at her in grief. “The whole time. You were lying to me about everything, weren’t you?”

Her own grief and regret went across her features, and she looked away in shame. Nick bristled angrily, while his own sense of loss coursed through him. “You never cared about me – never-” he swallowed, and looked away, wishing he could cry. “You never loved me.” He breathed in shakily. “You just placed yourself in Diamond City so you could keep an eye on me, keep me from getting too close to your group.”

She said nothing to him, and he took it as a confirmation for his words.

The detective looked away despairingly, his head hanging.

“The things we said to each other – the promises we made-” The feel of her lips on his, the sound of her voice calling his name, the light of her eyes when he said something that made her laugh.

The way she said she loved him.

And asked him to marry her.

It was all a lie.

Every part of it a scheme. He was nothing more than a pawn in her plot, a useless puppet she used to entertain while she pulled and manipulated the strings.

Beyond just betrayed, Nick felt used, cheated from the relationship he thought he had, the future he thought he had with her.

He should have known it was too good to be true. A beautiful and mysterious woman moves into the big city, as quick witted as she is observant, with the makings of a great detective.

And then that woman becoming his best friend, his partner, and above all that, falling in love with him, a synth detective with just a hired secretary and agency to his name.

He couldn’t believe he had fallen for it.

Fallen for her.

He shook his head, bereaved. “It would be better if you were dead – shot in the back like Jenny. Anything is better than this – this facade you made me go through.”

At a loss, Nick sobbed, but it was empty, lacking of any tears or snot or sweat that would have made him human.

Just another dumb synth, taken for a fool.

He’d put all his cards on the table for her, thinking they were a team, and he lost.

She’d totally wiped him out.

Hook, line, and goddamn sucker.

Around him, the people in the room were quiet, save for Dogmeat’s panting and Nick’s breathy sobs.

He felt like such an idiot.

How could he have let himself fall into such an obvious trap.

No one could ever care about him the way he cared about Nora.

He hated her for that, hated her for making him love her. It wasn’t enough for her to be a partner with him at the agency, she had to make him love her.

But that should have been the sign, the huge red flag flapping in the wind to alert him.

Because it wasn’t possible.

Not then, and not now.

Who could love something as inhuman as he?

How could he ever believe that a woman like her, would lower her standards and choose something like him?

He sobbed, his shoulders heaving for air that he didn’t even need. Normally he would feel embarrassed from such an outburst, but it wasn’t like he had anything to lose.

Not anymore, at least.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” her voice fell softly on his ears from across the room, her voice even and controlled and oh so far away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t bother apologizing!” he snarled. “Not when we both know you don’t mean it.”

She fell quiet again. In the impeding silence, Deacon spoke quietly, “What do you want us to do with him, Wanderer?”

They could have thrown him into an activevolcano and he wouldn’t have cared. Let him burn, let him get ripped apart by ferals or dogs or supermutants – it didn’t matter anymore.

Anything would have been better than existing in what must be his personal Hell.

Nora’s voice was resigned, and subdued; withdrawn. “Let’s go.”

They must not have expected this response, and it was Mac who led on, “You sure about that, Boss? I mean – I don’t want to jump the gun or anything but – doesn’t he, y’know – know . . .?”

The thought went through Nick like a bolt of lightning to a metal rod.

I know too much.

Nick hung his head resignedly, already accepting of his fate.

His best friend, his partner, his lover, the woman he wanted to marry was essentially dead. What harm would it be to die with the image and memory of what they used to be?

“That’s not necessary, Mac,” she said, a dismissal in her tone. She must have made some sort of gesture, because the people around the detective began to move about. MacCready and Bruiser behind him moved away, leaving the detective to his despondent state. “We’ll just be off. The word of one detective isn’t going to shatter us.”

It wasn’t an insult towards him, just a statement of truth. His words out in the Commonwealth didn’t mean anything, not as a single man. The only evidence he had to their existence was the words from his mouth.

And from a synth, it was even less than worthless.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Nora said to him. She was near him suddenly as the rest of her people around the room readied themselves for a journey to their next rendezvous point. She knelt down in front of the detective, showing how little she feared him, but he couldn’t look up to face her gaze directly. “I really am,” she tried to say with more conviction, but any plea she made fell on deaf ears in regards to the detective.

“You made your choice,” Nick spat. “You’re not sorry for any of this. You chose them.”

She sighed, maybe resigned to the fact that Nick wasn’t going to accept her apology. “Fine,” she said, and he caught a slight tremor in her voice, the only sign she felt anything by her betrayal. “But know that this wasn’t the plan, okay? I didn’t want you to find out – I-” she paused, and the volume of her tone quieted until it was nearly a whisper. “I meant what I said this morning out of Diamond City. This whole facade was so that-” She froze.

Dogmeat barked.

An instant later the room filled with the sound of laser pistols and rifles firing into the small area. One of the Angel operatives yelled out a warning, only to be drowned out as sounds of weapon fire filled the air.

“Get shelter!” Nora ordered, somehow making her voice known above the noise. “No risks, protect your flanks!”

“For Elder Maxson!”

The Brotherhood.

Nick nearly forgot about them, and he lifted his head up in time to see a swarm of Brotherhood members flood the room, blocking the Angels and holding them in one place. Nick thought of that old expression of having fish caught in a barrel.

There was no place for the Angels to go. This was the only way in or out of the room.

Bruiser flipped the metal desk over onto it’s side to work as a makeshift shield where the doc, Nora, and her ducked beneath it. Deacon and Mac turned some chairs over and went to hide behind an old filing cabinet. One of the drawers clanked open, and yellowed papers and files went spilling onto the floor like water from a broken glass.

“Hold fire!”

All of a sudden, arms were lifting Nick to his feet. He caught sight of the orange uniform wore by a Scribe, and heard Haylen’s trustworthy voice in his ear while he listened on numbly. “Are you all right, Nick?”

“It’s Nora,” he managed to choke out. Another Scribe came to help him stand to his feet. Somehow, he managed to enable function his legs, and he found the ground under him. Haylen’s face peered into his view, but he couldn’t move his gaze towards her. “Nora’s the Archangel.”

“What?!” Haylen exclaimed.

“She’s here,” he said. “Behind the cabinet. She’s the leader – the cause for all the assassinations.”

Haylen looked just as surprised as Nick, but Rhys at their side gained his bearings quicker than either of them did. “Knew she was nothing but trouble,” he grumbled. “We never should have trusted her.”

Nick didn’t have a retort for the bitter Brotherhood soldier, and he said nothing.

“You’re trapped, Angels!” Rhys called out, his voice strong and commanding. “Surrounded! Reveal yourselves now, turn yourselves in, and you will be given a fair trial.”

Some scoffs and snickers lifted from behind the blockades. Rhys didn’t seem too convincing on the fair trial bit.

“You’re vastly outnumbered, and outgunned,” Rhys said. “Step out now. This is your last warning.”

A moment of pensive silence, and then Nora’s voice called out, “I want your word that you won’t harm me, or my associates, Rhys.”

It was confirmation enough that Nick had spoken the truth. Rhys and Haylen exchanged somber glances.

“Your word, Rhys, on your honor as a member of the Brotherhood.”

Nick could have laughed, but it wasn’t funny. Nora knew just what to say to convince people to do something her way.

What Nora said struck a cord with the brotherhood member, and he nodded, “I give you my word, Connors.”

Slowly, Nora stood and revealed herself from behind the cabinet. At least five laser weapons were aimed at her, and despite all the commotion in the room, her eyes went right to Nick, like she was searching for something.

He hoped she didn’t find it.

As soon as she stood up and began to step out, her allies did the same, disgust written all over their faces. Nick could have laughed when Mac was tackled to the ground and lifted by two Brotherhood members, and Bruiser put up a fight that she ultimately lost when it took three soldiers to get her away. Deacon and the doc allowed themselves to be taken away quietly, and Nick could have sworn that the man known as Nora’s brother exchanged a conversation-long look with her as he was led away.

Nick had imagined this moment, watching as the bad guys were taken away. He imagined standing there with his partner, and starting back to Diamond City to celebrate with a nuka cola and a smoke.

That wouldn’t happen, now.

Nora, for whatever reason, was saved for last to be taken, likely because they viewed her as the most dangerous.

Probably the most dangerous person in all the Commonwealth.

Too smart and charismatic for her own good.

Too determined, too wily, too strong and forceful and capable.

No matter what she did, she was a threat.

“Would you like to do the honors, Nick?” Haylen asked the detective, and he looked at her in surprise. The Scribe glanced up at him, her own grief mirroring his. “This is your case,” she said.

Nick didn’t want to.

God he didn’t want to.

He looked back at her, and she turned her accepting gaze to his.

He had to.

The detective swallowed, and went for the handcuffs at his belt. He stared at Nora mournfully, and she met his gaze with every step towards her.

The detective didn’t say a word, though she looked like she wanted to say something as he grabbed her shoulder, and forcefully turned her to place the cuffs around her wrists.

“Nick-” she tried to say.

“Don’t,” he grumbled, pain causing his throat to close up. “Don’t say anything.”

She respected his wish, and fell quiet.

“Grrghhh – bark!”

“Aahh! Dumb mutt!”

A laser pistol went off, and Nora nearly jumped as she turned to the noise.

Disbelief welled through Nick, and he looked sharply at one of the Brotherhood men standing, weapon raised and pointed at the side of Dogmeat, who lay bleeding on the floor.

“Dogmeat!” Nora cried in panic, and strained against the handcuffs and Nick’s grasp. He held her down hard, and she struggled against him. “Damn you what the hell did you do to my dog?!” Nora bellowed, all semblance of quiet lost as she tried to wrangle herself out of Nick’s steely grasp, which was harder than it looked.

“Quiet down, lady,” the man sneered. “There’s nothing to-”

“Stop standing around there and heal him!”

The dog whimpered pathetically on the floor, but not a single Brotherhood member went forward to heal him. Even Haylen looked on hopelessly, her head turned away from the grisly scene as the blood poured from the wounded animal.

“What are you doing?! Help him!” she screamed, panic and desperation clear in her voice. “Dammit Nick let me go!”

Nick glared, frowning at her, and disbelieving that she would try to order him to- “I’m not going to-”

“Nick!” She spun towards him, her eyes teary as she met his gaze head on. “This isn’t about you or me, this is about saving my dog. I’m not going to sic him on you or anything just let me heal him, please!”

Everything about it went against Nick’s conscience, and he hated that he was giving Nora what she wanted, and it burned him even more to see her have a more dramatic reaction to potentially losing her dog than when she had lost him.

“Fine,” he grumbled coldly, digging for his pocket. “But no tricks.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief and turned for him to grab her wrist and unlock the cuffs. She curled her fingers against his, some small sign of thanks, and he yanked his hand from hers like she burned him. “Thank you,” she breathed.

The woman rushed to the dog, her fingers moving frantically as she reached into her coat, withdrawing a Stimpak as she searched for where the laser wound was. All the while, she spoke in soft and comforting tones to the whimpering dog.

“I know boy, it’s okay. I know, I’m sorry, Dogmeat, I’m sorry. Shh shh sh shh; it’s going to be okay, easy boy, easy-”

With practiced fingers, she parted the hair near where the wound was along his shoulder and injected the needle. Her fingers descended on the plunger, administering the dose that would heal the bleeding in the whimpering dog.

His cries began to ease off, then, and the woman sighed, her shoulders falling as if the whole world was on them. “Good boy,” she soothed, leaning her head down to kiss and ruffle the fur about his head. “Easy now, Dogmeat, good boy.”

The dog wagged his tail, thumping against the floor boards beneath them. When he lifted his head and leaned forward to lick Nora’s tearful face, Nick knew it was over.

Holding his handcuffs in one hand, Nick approached, and recited the ancient words to his prisoner.

“Nora Connors,” he said. “By the order of Diamond City, I’m placing you under arrest.” She waited for him, her form still and quiet, and Nick placed the cuffs around her wrists while he choked out the rest of the words, numb. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a Court of Law. You have the right to be represented by a lawyer, and if you cannot afford one-”

“The Court will assign one to you, I know, Miranda,” she murmured as he grasped her wrists and forced her to stand on shaky feet. Nick started, glaring. Nora looked over her shoulder at him, her smirk all-knowing, and her eyes sparkling with that secretive gaze. “I know the words well, Valentine. There’s no need to repeat them to me.”

Another one of those puzzle pieces dropped by her.

How could he resist it.

He glared at her, damning her ability to be so mesmerizing. “You don’t know anything,” he ground out.

She smirked, and chuckled, as if he had said some kind of joke. “Neither do you, Detective.”

With a scowl, he pulled her roughly towards the door, and the Brotherhood ensemble made way for them. “We’ll see about that,” he grumbled.

Something bothered him in the back of his mind, though.

While the words she echoed to him were correct, they were also wrong.

Chapter Text

Outside the gas station, the Brotherhood members assisted in tying up and gathering the Angel operatives, preparing them for transport to a secure facility.

Nick held tight to Nora, watching all with critical eyes. Haylen stood at his side, an unexpected ally in all this. “Where are you taking them?” he asked, his voice hardened with a bit of suspicion.

“Drop the tone, Detective,” she said, “We’re not going to take your suspects. This doesn’t concern the Brotherhood. Something like this would fall under the ‘Commonwealth affairs’ in the paperwork, so officially we’re not involved.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye, “These are your prisoners. Keep your hat on.”

Nick smiled half-heartedly, “Thanks, Haylen. And – sorry for doubting you. You’re the most reasonable Brotherhood member I’ve ever interacted with before.” He paused, “And also the first one that didn’t want to shoot me on sight.”

She cracked a smile at that. “Thank you, but I’m sorry I can’t say you’re the greatest synth I’ve ever met, but you’re probably the smartest.”

Her eyes flashed sadly, and Nick knew she was thinking of her former squad leader. He offered her a small smile in turn, but it felt strained as he turned his head to watch as Deacon was forced to the ground on his knees, his jaw clenched and stoic. He still had his glasses on, and though it was impossible to see where he was looking, Nick knew that he and Nora were locked on each other.

“What’s your plan then, Nick?” Haylen asked, looking at him curiously.