The tension was so thick, it had its own force, its own life.
Every bit of Maxson's charismatic power was in his voice. He was furious with me.
He is just a man though. I have stood up to bull-headed misogynistic judges who thought they were the be-all end-all before too.
He has a presence that is undeniably regal.
I was still intimidated. I just didn't show it.
He asked my why I had disobeyed a direct order from him.
I told him why. I told him because Danse would never harm the Brotherhood and had given his entire life to and for them.
He said if I wouldn't kill him, he would.
When Danse spoke up, to reason with him, what I saw in Maxson's eyes was simply that Danse no longer existed to him. It might have been words coming from a computer terminal. Maxson scowled at Danse and ignored him.
I told Maxson, standing between he and Danse - that if he wouldn't spare Danse for all the service he had rendered to him, he would have to spare him for me. For all the things I have done and was going to do for the Brotherhood.
We were at an impasse. I stood between Danse and he. He would have to move me to get at Danse. I widened my stance just a bit, making my stand more solid. He glared at me hard, and I kept my face determined and still.
"By Steel, woman!" Maxson finally growled, "You are a stubborn creature!"
And somehow, I did it. Somehow, Maxson decided to spare Danse.
He had conditions. Danse was to never approach or speak to any of the Brotherhood of Steel again. If discovered, he would be shot on sight.
Maxson told me to say my goodbyes and then report to him aboard the Prydwen. Then he marched off. I heard the vertibird take off a few minutes later.
Danse was looking at me with something akin to wonder.
I suppose he had never seen anyone stand up to Elder Maxson before.
"I can't believe you did that for me," he said softly, gazing at me with a warmth that was unmistakeable.
"You're very important to me Danse. And it's a bit selfish of me, really. I need you in my life. I can't let you go."
"I still ... for you to stand up for me like that, I don't think anyone has ever done anything like that for me before. I ... Thank you. You'd better get back to the Prydwen," he said, softly, still looking at me with something akin to awe in his eyes, "I'll be here. I promise I won't leave you, that is, until you don't want me with you."
"I heard you - you promised. Good. I'll be back when I can." I left, my heart full. When would I not want him? I wanted to hold him, to feel his bare skin on mine. I wanted to kiss him goodbye, but I just turned and left.
I reported back to Maxson on the foredeck of the Prydwen. His scowl was as fierce as usual. He studied my face with a boldness that anyone else might find too intimidating, but I was expecting it and put on my Z face again. Still as stone. Set as rock.
I was promoted to Paladin and given Danse's armor and officer's quarters. Danse was to be a secret between Maxson and I and never spoken of again.
I thumped my chest with an "Ad Victoriam, Elder," and told him I was off to prepare for my Institute assignment of recruiting Dr. Li. my Institute assignment of recruiting Dr. Li and getting Virgil's serum.
I left the foredeck and went into Danse's quarters, which were now my own. It was bare with just a bit of clutter. He wasn't here much, that was obvious. Not much of his presence here. He liked to be boots on the ground and that's where he spent all this time since I've known him. I laid on his bed which still held his scent faintly. I hugged his pillow and the next thing I knew I was waking up from a deep sleep. I had dreamed of making passionate love with him.
I woke aching from unfulfilled desire.
I knew that I had to get back to the Institute, but first I had something to do. I was heading to Listening Post Bravo.
He was there. He had found some military fatigues and mismatched pieces of combat armor.
"Danse, I would like you to come there with me back to the Castle."
"Alright," he said without enthusiasm. He had come to respect the Minutemen much more than his initial perception of them as an over-charitable, quasi-military, loosely organized force.
Danse needed some kind of mission badly. I was worried.
I continued, "The Commonwealth settlers need help to survive. There are more than 2 dozen settlements that depend on the Minutemen for survival. It's never possible to get to all of them when they need it most. It's where you can make the most difference right now. The Minutemen could use training in combat and tactics and setting up good defenses. The settlers need it too. They've got a foothold here, but the tide could turn without us. It is the most important mission we have right now. Without the people, there is no Commonwealth to fight for."
He appeared to be thinking about this, his face so serious and sad.
"Alright," he said, "it's not as if I had any plan of my own."
We had a few days of walking ahead of us, and I'd packed a good amount of provisions in preparation.
Get him on some missions and he won't sound so lost, I thought.
He still looked shell shocked.
We set up our first camp at sunset, using the last dying light of day to prepare a simple shelter. We worked perfectly together - having set up camp so many times now, and had everything ready in no time.
He was silent most of the time, frowning most of that time too.
I didn't attempt to make small talk - I wasn't sure what I could say that would distract him or help him learn to cope. I hope he just needed time.
What would I do in his place - If I found out I was a synth? That I was Shaun's creation, manufactured for his curiosity? How would I face it?
The angst would be unbearable.
Not only that, but he had lost the Brotherhood which he had lived and breathed since his early years.
I thought of Nick Valentine, and his struggles with having the 'real' Valentine's memories implanted into his brain and trying to determine what was genuinely him or just the shadow of this man from the past. Both he and Danse were left to their own devices. At least he knew from the start that he was a synth.
Not like poor Danse. I didn't know how to help him.
When we had made a small campfire and made tea and cooked up ragstag flank steaks. The smell made my stomach gurgle loudly.
Danse picked at his meal without appetite. Usually were ate like we were starving and consumed a huge quantity of calories at each meal. We needed it just to maintain our weight.
I had finished, and was gazing at the flames dance in our campfire.
Danse had set aside his mostly untouched meal and cleared his throat, "Z, I need to talk to you, as my ... friend and confidante, my only friend in truth." He heaved a heavy sigh," The Brotherhood is - was -" he corrected himself, "everything to me. My life. My home. My future, my goals and dreams. My family. Since this banishment, I feel like the ground has disappeared under my feet, and I'm falling into an abyss with nothing to slow me down. I'm scared as hell. I don't know who I am any more. I have no plan, no idea how I am to shape the future."
He was pale, and his standard look of determination had been replaced by one of worry and fear.
"Danse," I finally spoke, "You are still you. You make your own decisions, you choose your actions and your thoughts. We make ourselves who and what we become. You are heroic, strong, smart and kind. You chose to be such."
"I was obviously programmed to be such," he snarled. "I have no way of knowing what is my own independent thinking, or what has been plugged into my brain. Do I even have free will? Do I have a soul?"
There was so much pain in his eyes, my own eyes welled up with tears.
He leapt up suddenly and yelled, angrily, "I don't even if know what's in my head are real memories and which ones were implanted by the Institute!
"I have lost my life, my very self, my reason for existence in one fell swoop." Tears of grief and pain trickled down his face. "Damn the Institute! Damn their experiments! It would've been better if I had never been made."
He sat again, looking weary and sad. He put his head in his hands and shook his head.
He spoke through his hands, still covering his face, "Look, Z, I know you lost your world too, but at least your life two centuries ago was real! You had real parents and a husband who loved you, a baby you created with him out of that love." His voice grew loud again. and he dropped his hands, "Those filthy Institute bastards couldn't even bother with giving me fake memories of a family - a mother or father or brothers and sister! No I just became aware when I was 'turned on' and left on my own to scavenge or perish." His naked pain had twisted his handsome features.
"And that's the proof of your free will, Danse," I said firmly, although inside I was quaking, "how many countless decisions did you have to make every day to do one thing or speak the words you chose. You know! You had to go over everything you knew or felt and make your best bet to do the right thing every time." He looked about as convinced as a person being sold the Brooklyn Bridge. I continued, "Look, I saw how synths are made, their bodies and brains are indistinguishable from human ones because they are made with human DNA and cells. They just added in a control mechanism so they can control these humans they've created. But, guess what? They have failed. They can't control these synthetic humans they have made. There are several scientists there who know they created more than human-like robots - synths dream, Danse, they feel, they...love and they make choices that don't come from their makers. They have freewill. And you do too." I looked into his eyes, unwavering, "Danse, answer me this. What do you feel for me?"
He blinked surprised, angry tears drying on his cheeks, "I feel closer to you than I have ever felt towards anyone," he stated quietly.
"Would a non-human even be able to say those words?"
"Maybe I was preprogrammed to care for you," he whispered.
"Can it!" I snapped, "Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? Did the Institute bring us together? Did they put Cutler in your life? Did they program you to patch him up and befriend him? They're just people, Danse, as fallible as the rest of us. They are not gods."
I squatted down in front of him, and took hold of hands.
"Danse, you are more human than most people I know. You are not just a machine. Believe me."
He held onto my hands like they were a lifeline.
"That means ... everything to me, Z. Thank you. And thank you for continuing to offer me your friendship. I can't tell you how important you've become to me."
I blushed, but didn't let go. "Danse," I whispered, "I want it to be more than friendship."
He released my hands and his eyes widened in disbelief.
"After everything the Brotherhood has taught you, you could allow yourself fall in love with a synth?"
I cleared my throat and lifted an eyebrow at him. I leaned forward and planted a kiss on his cheek.
"I fell in love with Danse, with you. And it happened awhile ago."
He stood and paced back and forth in our small clearing. Finally he stopped and turned to me, "Z, please be patient with me. I don't even know if I truly do feel emotions as a human does. I feel confused. Would a human feel that?"
I laughed softly, "Almost all the time, Danse. Especially when it comes to love. Logic kind of flies out the window when it comes to the heart. Don't second guess yourself - doubting every thought. Believe me, Danse, they are your thoughts, your feelings."
"I need some time. Some time to process this," he said slowly.
My heart felt wounded and beaten. What had I expected? His declaration of undying adoration? He was going through the unimaginable torment of finding his whole life was a lie and the meaning of his life - the Brotherhood - had just utterly rejected him. Yes, it was reasonable and fair that he needed time to process my declaration of romantic love for him.
But I was glad he knew all the same. If he rejected me, my heart would just have to heal and deal with it.
We packed up the camp in no time and were on our way again. Back in power armor, we were hidden from each other although we walked close to each other.
We hiked in silence for about half an hour. Not that we were quiet - power armor clanks and stomps - it's impossible to be stealthy.
Our first stop was The Slog.
The settlement had grown and was now about one third non-ghouls. It was one of the most cheerful settlements I know of. Holly flirted shamelessly with Danse, who deflected her forwardness with questions about defenses with such a look of seriousness that she gave her game quickly, giving me a look, like "what's with him today?" I shrugged and smiled at her.
He had been brisk and businesslike all day, suggesting options for improvements in defense setups and turret placement. He gave the watchmen tips on how to respond more quickly when needed. Had the settlers set up a practice range. Very much the BOS officer. But he looked better. The worry lines were gone, replaced by his habitual slight frown of concentration. I preferred that frown over the former. He needed time to process this new self-image.
Danse had kept things on a professional and efficient level – we had discussed various possibilities for betterment of the settlements, not only defense-wise but productivity and comfort-wise too.
Our discussion concluded that Provisioners were key. They not only helped trade needed goods between settlements but also carried news and messages, helping settlers feel more of a part of a bigger world than just their home. And safer too.
The Minutemen were protecting the Provisioners at the checkpoints along the roadways between settlements, opening up The Commonwealth in ways that had been impossible before. Caravans were moving more freely than ever. Not that our job was done. There were battles won in territories, left cleared out only to have a new group of roaming mutants, raiders, Gunners or feral ghouls that would fill the vacuum sooner than later. We had our hands full just making sure folks could survive and hopefully thrive eventually.
The settlements were too tempting as targets for their food, water and shelters. And settlers themselves were considered food by a lot of their enemies. The work was not going to be done any time soon. But we were definitely making progress. The people I spoke with and listened to felt a realistic hope and it was growing.
And yet, I told Danse, the Institute threat still loomed like a giant thunderhead over the entire picture. Tension was building to the inevitable conflict that would end one or more factions in the Commonwealth, and there was no way for me to stop this juggernaut of events. He had no suggestions.
Yeah, I had enough to think about to keep my mind off Danse's emotional distance.
Danse had not said anything to me about my declaration of love.
I would give him all the time in the world - just as long as he didn't have that lost, sick look.
I was pleasantly tired after a full day, my body achey from manual labor, and was perfectly content to have a good night's sleep after a high protein and high fat meal. With this life I led now, worrying about gaining weight was ancient history. Now I worked to keep enough fat on me to sleep in the cold nights of the Commonwealth. Yeah, the frozen-over hell thing again. But it was pleasantly cool tonight, not cold. As I unstrapped, and unclasped each piece of my armor, and stripped off my BOS field uniform, the air felt delicious on my bare skin, I reflected on our long day.
I started my evening ablutions, pouring out some of my precious water into my washcloth with a tiny bit of soap, washed my face, then my body, then rinsed with another cloth soaked with clean water. I brushed my teeth and rinsed with another small amount of my water. I brushed my hair. I was not going to put on my close-fitting uniform again, but draped it over a branch for airing out.
I was getting a loose, clean shirt to sleep in when I heard Danse came up behind me. Before I could turn around, he had his arms around me, pulling me to his chest.
"I have wanted to do this since our first night together," he said in a husky whisper, then his mouth descended onto my neck and he nuzzled into that tender spot at the hollow above my collarbone. "But you were under my command at the time and it would have been unethical."
His hands traveled from my hips to my chest, where he cupped me, which immediately caused my breasts to swell up into the warmth of his palms and my nipples to harden and rise. My need rose up, excruciatingly deep and urgent, coursing through the center of my body. Everything else evaporated like mist in the sunshine from my mind, and at this moment there was only he and I.
I was almost afraid to speak or move, thinking I would break the spell that had released him from his locked heart.
But my body had a mind of its own when it came to Danse.
I turned to him, lifting my face to his, parting my lips, and his mouth descended onto mine, kissing me hard, making my knees tremble with sudden weakness.
He lifted his lips from mine and looked deeply into my eyes. "I have wanted you since the first time I saw you, but I put those desires aside. During our missions and all the time we've spent together...I couldn't help it, I was falling in love with you, too. But that was before...before I found out that I wasn't who I thought I was. I thought that should put an end to any hope that one day we could..."
" I want us to together in every way possible. I need you so much, now." I whispered. My physical need for him was painful, my body ready for him now.
His lips crushed my own and I gave in to my passion, my raw need, and kissed him with the fire that was burning me from the inside out.
Parting to catch his breath, panting slightly, he cleared his throat and spoke softly, "I should tell you," he said, "I've never...I mean, there's never been... I haven't...you know... been with anyone, like this...before."
I imagined his boyhood, scrapping for survival, then joining the BOS as a young teen...easy to see how there hadn't been opportunities for romance and love. Once in the BOS, he would never have broken the Codex or any mandate from Elder Maxson. Still, I was surprised. I wondered if all the Brotherhood of Steel held so closely to their Codex and the rules of etiquette. I doubted it. He was a virgin.
I smiled and reached up to stroke his cheek down to his strong jaw, my fingertips stealing up to touch his bottom lip, swollen from our kiss, "Danse, just follow your instincts, they seem to be working just fine."
"Are you sure?" he murmured.
He was giving one last chance to escape from the synth. No chance in hades, Danse.
"Oh, yes, Danse...I am more than sure."
Our lips met again, softer this time, more like discovering each other than devouring each other...And his lips felt even better than I had imagined they would. His lower lip is delightfully full, giving his mouth an extraordinary sex appeal. How many times had I imagined those lips...and now..it was happening.
I opened my eyes and looked into his, which were open and gazing into mine. His pupils were dilated and his breathing was quickened. This caused my own arousal to grow. I reached up and unzipped his uniform and helped him peel out of it, planting slow kisses and little gentle bites as I went. My eyebrows went up as I went down, and my eyes widened. Did the synth makers choose genetic traits? Danse was extremely well-endowed, at least in my limited experience. I felt weak in the knees again, thinking of that inside of me... As I started to peel down his leggings, I stopped here and there to taste and caress him with my tongue. His male musk was earthy and evocative. I inhaled it with appreciation, knowing his scent already, but this would imprint it forever in my senses, so much stronger up close - bare skin to skin. Something primitive and feral growled "mine!" in my mind.
Oh, it wasn't just in my mind, I heard myself say it aloud in a voice I didn't recognize as my own! "Mine!"
Freed from his confining uniform, Danse urged me up, took my hand and led me to our sleeping bags. We layed down face to face, and our hands and mouths caressed and explored each other, (did Danse actually get bigger?!) until Danse groaned out, "Z, I'm sorry, please, I... can't wait...I need you... now..." I turned so I was on my back, and opened my thighs to him, inviting him in. He made a sound somewhere between a growl and a moan and answered my invitation. He tried to thrust himself in me but the angle wasn't quite right.
I whispered hoarsely, "Hold yourself up a little or you'll squish me..." and as he lifted his chest off mine, I took hold of him and guided him into me. He thrust himself so deeply into me and with such brute force that I gasped.
He was past the point of control, and began pounding into me. I so aroused already that I climaxed after just several of his animalistic, mindless thrusts, crying out in my ecstasy. I felt his release within seconds after me with a half-moan half-sob. The ache of the endless wanting of Danse was filled finally. My insides were spasming from the powerful peak. I was shaking a bit from the effects.
Oh,oh,oh... I had forgotten how wonderful making love is, and I had never, ever felt a passion so consuming, so deep.
Cognizant now of my squishability, he rolled to his side, and I turned on my side to snuggle into his warm, damp chest.
"Z," He said softly, stroking my hair, "I am sorry I hurt you. I lost control. I... I couldn't stop. I'm a beast. I'm no good at this."
I kissed his chest, and nuzzled in closer. "I am better than good, and you didn't hurt me. It was wonderful, Danse."
One eyebrown descended and one corner of his mouth turned up, "Really? But… but you cried out, I hurt you."
"I did, yes. But that was from pleasure, not pain. Really."
"Oh," he frowned, "I didn't know women could..." he cleared his throat, then he said, "I want you to teach me what pleases you," he was making circles with his fingers on my bare back. "Everything you do feels amazing to me. And I want to be able to do the same for you."
"I will. We'll get plenty of practice, and you know what they say...practice makes perfect..."
"Yes, we need lots of training exercises. Definitely," he said soberly, then softly laughed.
I think that was the second time I had ever heard him laugh! The first time was looking at me and the deathclaw and my knife.
It is one of the most important elements of life - the joy, the happiness, the levity, the reveling in the moment that had been nearly absent since I awoke from my cryogenic state.
I fell asleep with that thought and a smile on my lips, in Danse's arms.
What woke me was his hand was caressing my body, from the crown of my head to my calf. I smiled sleepily and said his name.
"Teach me," he urged, "teach me what pleases you."
I was awake now. It was still dark, so I had no sense of time. Wow. The barrier he had erected had come down, not in bits and pieces but like a giant dam breaking apart and flooding the whole town.
"There's no rush, but, alright," I breathed. My wanton body was already responding to his touch and his desire. I was sore from our joining, but I was ready for more, too.
"Lesson One, recruit," and I proceeded to give a wee lesson in female anatomy and led his touch to each part as I described it. "So, whatever feels good to your mighty manhood, feels good to me - right there." I said guiding his questing fingers."
"Lesson Two,"I grinned and moved down, "there are different ways of making love, such as...something...like...this," and I took him into my mouth and pleasured him, until he moaned, and I could tell he was close to peaking, so, I moved back up, before I sent him over the edge, and gently pushed him into his back, mounted him and rode him until he did. His groans of release brought me to my peak too, and I collapsed atop him, trembling from my depths, waves of pleasure still running through me.
We fell back asleep, wrapped in each other, legs and arms intertwined. "I love you..." I whispered as I drifted off into sleep. Again, my mouth was talking on its own - without my consent. Oh well, it was only speaking truth anyway. Life was too precious to waste time with deception or being over-careful.
The sun was bright and its light woke me when a sunbeam touched my face.
Danse was already up and had a cook fire going. I smiled, watching him as he boiled water for tea, and cooked up some mole rat chunks. His eloquence of movement, showed such an innate grace, an economy of energy - not a wasted move. His strong hands, so deft and precise, flipped the meat over neatly in the camp pan. I could see him as a concert pianist, or a dancer, or a surgeon. But, I mused, he was a warrior, a born hero, a white knight. And perhaps in the old world, he would have ended up as a soldier too. Watching his face, a new contentment showed in his relaxed jaw and brow. Was that a slight smile on his lips? I had a feeling that the heart-ripping lost look would not make a reappearance any time soon. With my UTC blanket wrapped around me, I approached the fire. I planted a kiss on his neck and squatted down next to him."Mmmmm, smells good..."
"Good morning, Z." He handed me a mug and we sat down and ate in companionable silence, watching the world wake up around us. "It doesn't matter to me whether I am a synth or human," he said after awhile, gazing at the rose colored horizon, "I know what I feel and I know what is right. You said you love me," he paused, turned to me and looked deeply into my eyes, "and I know what that means, because I feel it too. I loved my friend and I loved the Brotherhood, but it is not the same. What I feel for you is bigger than both of those combined. It's as if it's bigger than the universe - too big to contain. It has changed something in me forever, and I would never, ever want to go back to not knowing you, this, our love. I feel as if I could face anything if you are by my side." He kissed me then, softly, breathing deeply of my scent. "You called me yours last night. I tell you today, you are mine. I will never let you go. I love you, Z, so much so I feel I am going to burst apart." Keeping hold of my hands, he again looked to the horizon, as if looking out to the future, his deep voice soft and reflective, "I was willing to give my life for my brothers, for civilians...but now I want to live and be with you. I still need to fight, but I am not so willing to throw away this gift of life that I have received, whether from God or man - It doesn't matter. It is precious to me now." He pulled me to him, and looked into my eyes again, "and you are my gift, too, and not one I would ever willingly lose."
"Well, if you watch my backside, I'll watch yours," I said, waggling my eyebrows at him, smiling, "yours is so delectable. And we're not giving up the good fight, but yes, I need us to come through this together."
We held hands, and finished our tea, and watched the sun creep higher through the trees.
"Save some hot water for bathing," I suggested, as Danse was cleaning up our breakfast equipment. I was shook out our BOS uniforms and redraped them over a low hanging maple branch. I half-filled two camp pans with hot water and got out my precious bit of soap and dishrags.
"Allow me," I offered holding up my weapons of sanitation to Danse. His eyebrows went up.
"I believed you were over- fastidious with your daily bathing routine, but perhaps it would be a good idea today. I have to admit, although a gentlemen would've turned his back when you bathed, I watched every time you did on our bivouacs."
Danse's olfactory sense was extraordinarily sensitive, and I imagined he didn't want to be working side by side with settlers and Minutemen reeking of sex.
Smelled good to me, but I was of the same mind. I didn't want settlers having their thoughts on thinking, "Minutemen sure are horn-dogs...they are having themselves a grand old time," instead of, "how can we make this settlement safer, more productive and happier - a good place to live?"
"Lift up your arms, solider," I commanded. His brows went up again, but he complied. His armpits were strongly musky, but not unpleasant to my senses. After I finished there, I moved on to more interesting areas, gently, softly and slowly wiping down between his buttocks and then lower, lower, and then his front - which responded immediately by standing up at attention, like a sail's mast. Nice rigging, sailor, I thought. I glanced up at his face, and he shrugged apologetically with an eyebrow up and a half smile.
"Enough," he said firmly as I finished with my "rinse cloth" in his nether regions, and urged me up by lifting my elbows.
"My turn, General," he said firmly, and taking my equipment from me and repeating what I had done exactly as I had done to him. It felt heavenly, and I worked in a good stretch as I lifted my arms to the sky. Hmmm, he was getting original here. I didn't think my breasts were in need of cleaning...Then, as he began washing me ever so gently between my legs, my knees turned to water. He wasn't just washing me...his rhythmic stroking of my most sensitive spot was going to bring me to climax.
"Oooooo," I whispered, "oh, yes...", when I meant to say, "No, no, stop that, we've got to get a move on..." Something about this man made my mouth take on a life of its own.
He knelt down, and proceeded to show me he took me at my word when I told him how to pleasure me.
Oh,oh. His tongue was doing amazing things...His hands on my buttocks, squeezing ...and I was running my fingers through his thick hair, my head thrown back, eyes closed and lips parted.
He continued his ministrations, sensing my growing arousal - was I making that whimpering sound?
Then, my back arched and my hands locked into his hair as the pleasure exploded through me, and my knees did give way. Danse stood, picked me up with apparent ease and carried me back to our sleeping bags. He laid me down and getting atop of me, slid into me oh-so-easily. I was still reeling from the heady pleasure, and - he felt so right inside me.
He started slow, easy and rhythmic thrusts, and soon my hips were rising to greet each thrust, and my need began to build again. I locked my legs around his waist, pulling him even more deeply in me. Our pace became faster, more heated, then we rolled over. We started slowly again, to draw out the pleasure and slow down our pace. His hands found my breasts and he held them while using his thumbs to tease my nipples, and that took my brakes off. Our pace became furious again, and desperate. I cried out with abandon as I came. He peaked too, his final deep thrust left him remaining inside me. After, we rolled to our sides, we lay boneless, sweaty and replete, our breathing slowly returning to normal, foreheads touching, face to face on our sides, with his manhood still in me.
I dozed...and awoke to see the sun at what was probably 10 o'clock in the morning, and saw Danse by our rekindled fire. He seemed to be heating water.
Heh.
After a second, more perfunctory washing up, which we performed upon on our own bodies, we dressed, packed up, cleaned up our site, got into our power armor and began the trek towards The Castle again. My lips felt swollen, my center, warm and content. Some inner, over-taut line had loosened in my core, and it changed how I saw things. The world looked crisper, more defined, brighter.
I was suddenly looking forward to the day.
Checking my map, I decided we would stop on the way at County Crossing, the largest settlement in terms of settlers, anyway. It was in other ways, one of the smallest, area-wise because of the uneven, rocky ground. Usable space and less private accommodations made it more challenging for those who lived there. Almost as difficult as Hangman's Alley.
"Danse," I said as we walked, "I was thinking of suggesting that some people relocate to a more spacious settlement, with more arable land, and more sites suitable for building. But, I was thinking, too, they might not care too. People are developing strong bonds, the kind forged when you face death together and come out the other side alive, only to do it again and again."
"You can suggest, and they can decide," he said matter-of-factly. I nodded.
We journeyed on in companionable silence and reached Country Crossing within two hours. I gratefully got out of my power armor and stretched. I went to find Darryl, who naturally took the role of leader here, while Danse walked the perimeter, checking defenses with Amy Driscoll, who was stationed as a watchman.
As I walked, I could feel an extra sway to my hips, as if my body was declaring its sensual re-awakening to the world. I consciously tried to walk in a more business-like manner, irked with myself.
Darryl was fixing a loose board at the base of a shack. He wore olive fatigues, and combat armor. My old self would've been horrified at the thought of normal people wearing war gear all the time. But the new me did it too, and I was used to the feel, the weight, and balance of my armor, and when I took it off, I felt vulnerable, naked. His dark blond hair was neatly trimmed, and he had shaved recently.
"Daryll," I greeted him, "everything looks pretty fine."
"Oh, hey, Z! Good to see you! Things have been quiet - the Raiders haven't been back since you tracked down the bunch that had been harassing us." He stood, wiping his hands on his pants, before extending his right hand. We shook hands, and we went to his "office" to talk.
"We have 22 people here now," he declared, "and that has eased the work load for everyone. We actually have time for music and games now. People are happier. And now that we have a doctor here, no one has died of radiation sickness or viruses. I can't tell you how much you and the Minutemen have done for us. "
"That's what we're here for," I smiled, warmed by the praise, "now, what do you see as your biggest need right now and for the near future?" I asked.
"Electricity," he stated promptly. "With the extra free time, people want to read, practice their instruments, play cards or checkers or whatever. So they need light. And more private sleeping quarters. There are several couples now, and they need some privacy. That's it - you've provided workshops, trade, crops, and purified water, good shelters, but, hey, there's always room for improvement."
"We'll have to build up for more quarters," I said, "and put up some walls to make separate quarters. We need some babies around here. We'll start by purchasing some shipments of materials and start getting some power and lights too. I make regular trips to Diamond City and Goodneighbor, so just give me as many caps as you can spare, and I will purchase them at a good price for you."
"You know," he smiled, shaking his head, "2 months ago, I wouldn't have trusted anyone enough to give them any amount of caps, and now, I don't bat an eye. That's the difference you are making."
My cheeks felt hot, but I returned his gaze, and smiled back. "That's the world we want to live in, so, we make it so."
Holotape # Transcribed by Piper
I had to go back one last time to the Institute. My first trip was so full of shock to find that the old man I had come to despise was in actuality my own son. Finding my son had been my driving force – keeping me going, searching for him since I stumbled out of Vault 111. Without that, I was lost. Except for Danse. He was now my anchor, my home. Without Danse, I would've just eaten the barrel of my .45.
I also hadn't found Virgil's serum yet, and I had promised I would try to retrieve it. I also wanted to find out more about the Institute's motivations.
If I could somehow prevent this war from happening I was going to.
But, it's as if this world is just determined to take my hopes and squish them, one by one.
This second trip to this Institute almost accomplished that.
Here's what I can remember of Shaun's and my conversation from that visit.
I went to see my son in his quarters. He thanked me for retrieving the rogue synth and then this happened.
"So, if I may ask you, out of scientific curiosity, you've met M7-97, or as he is better known, Paladin Danse, have you not?" Shaun asked me.
"Yes, I have." What on earth? Where was this going?
"If I may, again, ask something rather personal?" His eyes gleamed with something I could not identify.
"Shoot," I said, wishing he would get to the point and beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable.
"I assume that meant 'yes'?" he asked, amused.
At my terse nod, he continued, "Did you find him...attractive? Were you drawn to him?" The gleam in his eye was even more avid, "and this may seem quite the odd question, but do you like the way he smells? His body I mean. Bear with me; I know that seems like a bizarre thing, but phenotypic matching should make your scents appealing to each other."
I felt as if I had swallowed a boulder and it was now sitting in my stomach, undigested and heavy.
"And if I said yes, what would that mean to you?" I asked, embarrassed, discomfited to be having such a conversation with my son.
"Ahhh!" He said smiling with delight, "I'll assume that means yes as well. It was just a theory of mine. In case you two should meet up - which was a very small probability anyway, since we had planted him in the Capital Wasteland. I had hoped he would end up with the Brotherhood, but couldn't know one way or the other. He exceeded my expectations. Becoming a Paladin! I wanted to see if you and he, if you met and spent some time together, would experience genetic sexual attraction because of genetic and phenotypic matching."
I was stunned. I gaped at him. Finally, I found my voice, "You were manipulating me? And Danse? Playing with my life? And his? Why, Shaun?"
I wanted to cry.
He looked surprised at my obvious distress, "I didn't think of it in that way at all, mother. I don't mean to cause you any emotional pain, that's the last thing I want." He paused, seeming to search for the right words, "When I asked you if you thought you could come to love the child synth, Shaun, it was because of this same genetic connection." He became more animated, and gestured broadly with his hands, "In a way these Generation 3s are all your genetic grandchildren. They are all made up of my DNA, which, of course, has elements of both you and my father in it."
"So this was just to satisfy your curiosity? What true scientific value would this so called 'genetic sexual attraction' have to anyone?" I was so, so angry now, I had to fight to keep my lawyer face on and my calm intact.
He smiled, embarrassed. "You're right, of course. It has no scientific value to speak of. But it does mean that all Gen 3 synths will feel a loyalty and affection for you - it's in their very genes. And you have just proven to me it goes both ways." He seemed so pleased with himself.
I was a longitudinal study finally come to fruition.
"If that's the case, don't you feel this attraction to Shaun and the Gen 3 synths?" I asked, miserably.
He paced, back and forth in the small room, "Well...yes and no. I expected to feel affection for my creations - but the logical part of me knew that was going to be the outcome of them being made up of my DNA, so I was able to put those emotions aside quite easily." He stopped pacing and stopped to look at me intensely, "But for you, you fresh out of cryo, no expectations, no preconceived ideas - you were the perfect test subject to see how strong the attraction might be."
I needed to throw up. I excused myself abruptly, ran to my quarters, and retched until there was nothing in my stomach. Then I lay on my nice, clean Institute bed and cried until there were no more tears in me.
I cried for what my Shaun had become - a cold blooded stranger - but one who had recently begun to yearn for the past that might've been. Maybe that was his own experiencing of the genetic attraction.
I cried for Danse and I, manipulated out of no other reason than curiosity.
Would knowing this destroy our love?
Nah.
Shaun may have played us like pawns, but we had free will and our hearts were our own. After all, this GSA wasn't anything new. Adam and Eve. Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh. Throughout history siblings or parents and children separated at birth have fallen in love with each other meeting as adults for the first time, unaware of their kinship. And we weren't related in that way at all. The Adam and Eve comparison was more true to us than immediate family members having relations.
Genetics and phenotypes weren't the only elements though. Not by a long shot. For instance, I cared for Shaun simply because he was my son - but I didn't like him and certainly felt no sexual attraction towards him. It wasn't a given.
It was choice, with a little help.
Danse may have been an experiment, but he had become much more than my son had counted on. He became a man with amazing courage, morals, intelligence and heart. I loved him. That would never change.
Would I ever tell Danse about this weird conversation with Shaun? I don't know.
I found Dr. Li, and I was right, she was ready to leave the Institute. She wasn't all that crazy about the Brotherhood, but between the two, she would rather be helping them than the Institute.
She said she would get out on her own, secretly and I shouldn't contact her again until she was out and free.
Then, I found the serum. It wasn't easy. There were laser turrets all over the place. High grade ones. But it just took patience and timing to take them out. The concentration on the task was actually soothing for me.
After that, I read as much as I could from each department and left the Institute. I would be back one last time – but that would be to blow it to smithereens. What I found in the FEV lab and SRB was enough for me to turn my back on the Institute and my son forever.
Roger Warwick was a synth and the whole settlement was an experiment which was marked for erasure at the conclusion of the test. He had two children, for heaven's sake and his lovely wife June. Marked for "erasure"?
All the caravaners were paid informants for the Institute. I felt my fury rising. I would confront each and every one of them. Even Lucas Miller. I was so disappointed.
And no wonder Virgil fled – they were kidnapping Commonwealth people and injecting them with FEV to try and perfect the serum to their own ends. After the Super Mutant nightmare in the Capital Wasteland, I couldn't believe the evidence in front of me. Failed experiments were killed. And that was all of them.
He had begged them to shut down the program and they wouldn't . That meant that Shaun had said the program must continue. Shaun.
My son. Ordered the kidnapping and cold blooded murder of innocent Commonwealth residents. My child - grown up into this cold, old man.
There were some good, innocent people and a few children. There was no right answer. There was no happy ending.
