[=A WEEK AND A HALF AFTER THE DISAPPEARING ACT=]

Piper rubbed her arms through her red trench coat as she joined her pre-war companion atop the roof of Home Plate. A thick layer of snow covered the roof outside of the old trailer that the two were in. Jack stood inside the trailer, a lit cigarette in hand as he watched the snow fall on the city. While the reporter loved how beautiful the snow could be against the dark and grim atmosphere of the Commonwealth, she'd take the heat over the cold any day of the week. It was no nuclear winter, but it was a bit too cold for Piper's liking.

The ace reporter shivered underneath her leather coat. "How are you not freezing, B-Blue?" Piper asked, her teeth chattering as another shiver went down her spine.

Jack blew a puff of smoke into the cold air. "I am cold, I'm just… sort of used to it. Being frozen for two-hundred and ten years straight will do that to you," he explained. "Plus, this big coat I'm wearing is pretty warm."

"Yeah, lucky you. I've got a damn leather jacket and I'm still cold," she complained, rubbing her hands together in hopes of making more heat.

"You want my coat, Piper?" he asked, his navy-blue coat already half off.

"No, I wouldn't want you to freeze over for a second time, and…" Piper said, trailing off as she found his coat flowing over her frame.

"Don't worry 'bout it, I'll get my riot coat," Jack said, disappearing back into Home Plate and returning with his riot coat, as he had said.

Piper put her arms through the sleeves of the coat and zipped it up. It's shit like this that made you fall for him in the first place. A simple, yet generous act was enough to turn that switch on in her brain, and no matter what she tried, she couldn't get that stupid feeling to go away. No matter how many times she listed off the reasons why it was implausible in her head, or however many times she pinpointed the things she disliked about him, it never went away, and it bothered her to no end, like a thorn in her side. Maybe it's meant to be…

The reporter shook her head. She must be going crazy to think that! Well, it sure feels like I am.

"By the way, Blue, how are you feeling?" she asked. "I know it's been a little over a week since you got that concussion, but…"

"I'm feeling alright," he told her. "Still feeling a little spacey, but other than that I feel great."

"Good, I'm glad."

"I can't wait to get the fuck outta Diamond City," he said, bringing the cigarette to his mouth before blowing out another cloud of smoke. "Don't get me wrong, I love the city, but we've been here for far too long."

"I know what you mean. The big city can be a bit too much sometimes," she agreed.

"Though, it's actually really nice," Jack continued, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his boot. "The snow against Diamond City is super easy on the eyes."

Not as much as you are. "Couldn't agree more. Don't care for the chilling cold though," Piper said.

"Man, I remember as a kid, we'd sit in front of the fireplace and watch the snow fall outside. New York was always the best place for snow," Jack explained, a smile forming.

"Whoa, you lived in New York? Isn't it beyond repair nowadays?" Piper asked out of curiosity.

"Lived there for a good ten or eleven years. Moved back here to Massachusetts when I was seventeen," he said. "I'd love to go back some day… well, you know, if it wasn't wiped off the face of the Earth."

"Future field trip?" Piper considered. She'd love to go and see another state; while learning more about her companion's past at the same time.

Jack shrugged. "I dunno. It's a possibility. Maybe… after everything finally settles down? Although, I don't know if things will ever settle down…" he said, trailing off. "Anyways, we… should probably head back to Sanctuary. I'd like to spend my birthday at home-"

"Your birthday is today?" the dame exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me?! We have to celebrate!" Grabbing his hand, she led him down through Home Plate.

"Piper, I don't want—"

"Nonsense, Blue," she said, stopping before the door. "You're, what—"

"Two-hundred forty-one," he interjected with an almost annoyed voice.

"Two-hundred forty-one years old! Gotta make the most of it. Now, come on, let's go to the Dugout and celebrate!" she continued, dragging him through the city.

"Piper!" he nearly shouted, startling her enough to make her drop his hand. "Listen… I appreciate that you want to celebrate my birthday, but one, I'm in no mood to get drunk and two, I… don't exactly enjoy celebrating my damn birthday."

The reporter's shoulders sunk in disappointment. You're no fun. But I'll make sure you have fun, anyways. "Dammit, Blue, I wasn't gonna get you hammered, jeez," she said, shaking her head. "Well, what do you want to do?"

"I'd like to go home and enjoy a comic book, some Nuka-Cola and a sweet roll," Jack explained.

"Yeah, sure, alright. But I know something better."

"And what would that be?" he questioned, crossing his arms.

"Trust me on this, Jack. C'mon!" Piper exclaimed.

"Fine. But if this is any worse than a sweet roll…"

"It's not, I promise," she said as the two found themselves at the Dugout Inn. Passing through the door, the reporter went straight to the Port-A-Diner.

"You think you're going to be able to get that stupid preserved pie?" Jack asked. "Paul Pembroke was here trying to get it when I was investigating Earl Sterling's disappearance. And he had been at it for hours, Piper."

"Don't be such a Negative Nancy, Blue. I'm going to get that damn pie."

"Psh, sure," Jack scoffed. "Can I get that in writing?"

"Oh, you will," Piper replied. "Give me about a day, and I'll have this pie out and an article about it, too!"

The former soldier sat down at the bar, looking over at his companion every now and then. "A hundred caps says she gets that pie out," Vadim spoke up.

"It's a bet," Jack said, shaking hands with the bartender. "Might as well pay up now."

Piper turned around to face the two while the claw in the Port-A-Diner reached down to grab the pie, to no avail. "Yeah, Jack, you might as well pay up. Because I will get the pie."

She turned around, pressing the button on the side once more and watching the claw reach down once more. "Just you watch," she said, briefly turning around. As she returned her attention to the machine, she had to do a double take. She actually got the pie!

"Good luck with—"

"I got it!" she shouted, grabbing the pie. "Nat was right; I am the lucky one."

Vadim laughed behind Jack, while his jaw hit the floor. "Time to pay up, Jack!"

He scrambled to count out a hundred caps before approaching Piper. "H-Holy… holy shit."

"Come on, take a bite!" she urged. "It's your birthday."

Grabbing two forks, he handed one to her. "You got the pie out of that machine, and I doubted you. You deserve at least half of it."

Piper didn't hesitate to take one of his forks. "I thought you'd never ask," she said, plunging the fork into the pie and taking a bite, while Jack joined her.

"Man, I haven't had pie in two hundred and ten years. I miss pre-war foods," he said.

"I-I'm speechless," the reporter added. "This has got to be the best thing I've ever had."

Soon enough, the pie was gone. It's a shame you can't disprove 'have your cake and eat it too.' Or… well, pie.

"I'm absolutely determined to get every damn preserved pie I see from now on," Jack told her, licking his fork. "If you can be that lucky, I sure as hell can be, too."

The reporter laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "I wouldn't be so cocky, lover boy. I've got the magic touch."

"Yeah, mhm," Jack started. "Sounds fake, but okay."

Piper playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Asshole."

"Hey, rude. It's my birthday, after all."

"Oh, yeah? I thought you didn't like celebrating your birthday?" the reporter asked, a sly grin spread across her face as she folded her arms.

"I don't. Doesn't mean you can't be nice," Jack told her.

"Who said I was nice?"

"Fair point."

"Anyways," Piper began, "what else do you want to do? It's your birthday, you've got the right."

Jack sighed. "I… I think I know a place."

"Show me."

[=]

Snow rested on the ground of the abandoned town, Concord. Birds flew about the town, landing on telephone wires and tracking their footsteps in the snow. The dead raider bodies were still scattered about, snow covering them as they decayed away from the day Jack left the vault. Piper had absolutely no clue why he brought her to Concord; he wouldn't tell her why. You'll see when we get there, he had said. Jack, of all people, should know that she doesn't like things being kept from her. She continued to ask until the two stopped in front of the Concord Church. The snow on the ground made the church almost blend into its surroundings with its white, yet chipped and worn paint. Piper followed Jack inside, taking in the rugged exterior.

The vault dweller wiped dust off one of the pews. "Nora and I got married here, a day before my birthday. Two-hundred and thirteen years ago," he explained. "It's nearly blown to hell, but… it feels no different to me than the day her and I got married."

Skeletons littered the old church; lying over the pews, hunched over in corners, and on the floor. Before Piper ever met Jack, she never paid any mind to the remains that were scattered across the wasteland, and never took the time to wonder or even piece together what their stories were (oddly enough, considering it was her job to do that). Yet, now that she has met someone who may have known some of the people that were now skeletons, she was so much more aware of the fact that these bones belonged to real people. People with families and jobs. People who lived happily in the Commonwealth. People who never thought Doomsday would come.

It was almost funny, to think that Jack was one of those people; to think that he could have become one of the skeletons that was slumped in a corner.

The reporter sighed. She was still wearing his goddamn jacket. You like him. The words didn't quite settle right with her, but she was done fighting it.

She shook her head, emptying it of her thoughts. This was Jack's day, not hers.

"Piper? You in there?" Jack said, waving a hand in front of her face.

"What?" she replied, blinking. "Y-Yeah, I'm here. Just kinda… spaced out."

Jack nodded before turning away towards the podium. Pushing over the skeleton that was leaning against it, he picked up the half-burned book and flipped through its pages. "Every Sunday Nora and I would come down here. I was never the religious one, but she was. I didn't care much about going to church every Sunday, but she did. So, I went with her to make her happy. I… actually learned some things too," he said, stopping on one page in the book. "There it is. Romans 12:21. 'Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.' Her favorite scripture."

He closed the nearly ruined book and stuffed it in his book, leaving the podium. "Probably was her favorite because the scripture's numbers are my birthdate. Twelve twenty-one."

"Maybe you should take that quote to heart, Blue," Piper told him.

"What?" he asked, stopping before her.

"You said you thought you weren't a good person, right? Just… just think about that quote. I doubt there's any 'evil' bone in your body, since you've done so much good."

He shook his head. "Don't start."

"What? You know I'm right."

Jack chuckled. "Yeah, maybe so, but I'm a stubborn, self-destructive asshole. I'll be eons before I believe that," he said, sitting down at the large piano that was leaning against the right wall.

"Is… that a piano?" Piper asked.

"Still in decent condition," he said, playing a few notes.

"And I assume you're good at playing the piano? You're great at playing that ukulele and you're a good singer," she said, leaning up against the wall next to the instrument. "What else are you good at, then?"

"You'd be right. I can draw, too," he answered. "I wouldn't say I'm amazing at it, but I'm alright at drawing."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you could do nearly anything."

He scoffed, slamming his hand down onto the piano keys to create a garble of notes. "I can name a few for you right now that I cannot do."

"Go for it," Piper urged him.

"I can't paint to save my life. I'm horrible at calming myself down, and I'm not the best socializer either," he said, listing things off. "I can't write as well as you do."

"Oh, I bet you're great at it, Blue."

"Piper," he said, looking her directly in the eyes. With a chuckle, he continued, "trust me. I was not built to write."

"Alright, fine. I'm not going to fight you on it."

"Thank you," he said. "Let's see… I'm not great at explaining things. Not good at expressing the shit that I'm going through—"

"Wait, what?"

This time, Jack slammed his entire fist down onto the piano keys. "Don't worry about it, alright?" he said as he began playing some sort of song.

I'm surprised he didn't break the damn thing. "What was that last part about, Blue? You okay?"

"Yeah- yeah, I'm fine," he said, continuing to play the piano.

Something isn't right. "Yeah, okay. Sure," she said, not buying it. Piper was a reporter, for God sakes. She knew when someone was lying. "Blue, if you need to get something off your chest—"

Almost right on cue, Piper was interrupted by loud groans and banging coming from the church's door.

Feral ghouls.

"Shit," Jack said as he got up from his seat in front of the piano, grabbing his rifle. "This is just great."

Piper equipped her 10mm pistol. "So much for a happy birthday, right, Blue?"