Of course, she'd sent word ahead with the trade caravans that Sturges had been found and was safe. With her friends notified, she didn't feel bad about leaving him at Hangman's Alley for the night while she ran the Freedom Trail and verified her mysterious dance partner's identity. Vera returned the next morning ready to get Sturges back where he belonged despite getting no sleep and looking like a wreck. Unlike him, she was only human. He ended up carrying her piggy-back along the route by the time they hit Oberland, allowing her to finally rest. It wasn't so horrible; his engineered strength ought to be good for SOMETHING. Besides, they went in the company of a trade caravan, providing some safety in numbers. The only downside was that they asked him innocent questions, which he was not ready to answer. He just did his best and kept his answers brief.

The reunion once they made it to Sanctuary made him thankful he'd so vehemently decided to keep his memories. People missed him. People were worried about him. It was regrettably tainted with the news of the Institute, but he could see the resolve of the settlers against their enemy. He'd be a rallying cry against their common enemy.

Then came the hard part. He had to come clean to Preston about what had really happened. After Vera, he was the one person he trusted most, and as the second in command of the Minutemen, he needed to know the threat. Preston had been silent for a while, processing what he was told. Sturges couldn't even begin to read his mind. In the end, though, the bonds forged through hardship proved stronger than the fear of the unknown, and he made that clear. He would keep his secret and remain his friend.

Vera waited to leave until this job had been done, wanting to be sure things went okay between the two men. Then, she'd instructed Sturges to bunker down in the root cellar until she returned. The Institute might be trying to snatch him up again soon, and she wasn't having it. While she finished the Lexington job, she needed him to figure out their way in.

The next night, she returned and found him where he was supposed to be after giving the appropriate series of knocks on the steel door. It was late, but he was awake. His tools lay scattered all around the cellar, and she wondered how he could see what he was doing in the flickering light of the oil lamp. She didn't have the heart to scold him for over-working himself any longer. "Sturges?"

"Vera? Did you clean out that HQ?" Sturges scrambled to his feet and came to meet her as she climbed down the ladder.

"Yep. Talk about synths. It felt good to blast them to scrap metal! Perfect therapy after a week like this." She carefully reached up and shut the door behind her. "Also, no daggers in my back. That was a plus."

His brow furrowed. "I was worried. He was just so sketchy…"

"I know." She couldn't suppress the yawn that forced itself from her. "It's bedtime. Mind if I join you down here? I know it's a bit cramped."

Sturges froze, eyes wide in shock. He hadn't dared to imagine their sleeping arrangements would remain intact after everything. "You mean…you wanna…still? I mean, even though I…"

"Sturges." The way she uttered his name was some strange mixture of melancholy and a plea. This shouldn't be surprising; she knew what he was now, wished it wasn't so. The look in her eye said it all. She hadn't killed him yet, she hadn't even thrown him out of her life, and after what she'd done for him back at Hangman's Alley, he doubted she ever would, but there was no way she could take him back as a lover. A synth wasn't capable of love after all, they were just machines. Machines she always professed to hate. Her beliefs could never flip so drastically just because of him even though she was clearly trying to ignore her feelings.

All that considered, he didn't make a sound as he sank down on the mattress. It was his own, or else he wouldn't have dared. It was just that he'd lost all energy, all will to continue. He looked up with a sad smile. "Let's not pretend, Vera. You're gonna be done with me, aren't you?"

Vera frowned. She took a long step towards him and reached out her hand, caressing his cheek. Damn, it was warm, prickled with the hints of stubble where he needed to trim. No different than any other man. But that was just it, wasn't it? The difference was not in his body, which had been fabricated to be exactly like a human; it was in his head. In theory, the Institute could hijack him and use him like a puppet, provided they were able to regain control of his functions after his mind wipe. He could kill her or any of his friends without wanting to. In fact, his entire personality had been programmed in an effort to help him escape detection. What was real and what was given were in a tangled mess.

But had anyone programmed him to look so miserable? Could anyone pretend to be so devastated? Before she knew it, the words escaped. "Done with you? I'm just getting started with you. We have a lot to explore…"

"Vera," he choked. She noticed his eyes start to water. "I know it will take time to figure out, but I couldn't bear it if we took things further and then you walked away."

Vera sighed before letting her fingers run through his hair. "If it comes down to jumping ship now or staying the course, well…" She closed her eyes. "Things are different now. But you are still you, and I know I could love you, synth or not. I've fallen too far to turn back."

"Vera…"

She silenced him with her lips on his. "Let me know you, all of you. Let me lay you bare. I have no intention of leaving anything out unless you tell me otherwise, do you understand?"

He was fairly certain he knew what she meant, but his normally strong logic was in disarray, and something about her offer made him ache like never before. He wanted to be laid bare. "I'm yours. Always have been."

She smiled and began running kisses from his forehead to his damp eyelashes, and down the chiseled jaw her hand had just mapped. She only broke away to nip at his earlobe, tugging lightly. "This part I'm pretty familiar with. You probably don't realize how many times I caught myself staring at your face while you worked. So focused. Did you know your mouth crooks up in one corner when you are thinking really hard?"

"Does it?"

"Yep. It makes me want to come over and kiss you. Like this." This time she devoured his mouth, paying special attention to his bottom lip as she nibbled. Her right hand trailed down so it was resting along his thick neck. She could feel the pulse within him, and it was accelerating the harder she kissed him. He was alive, and she would fight anyone on that point. Not only was he alive, but he had feelings. They couldn't manufacture those, not the Institute, and not the Railroad.

The process gradually continued. She continued to move down his body, kissing and caressing every inch she exposed. First, the T-shirt came off, allowing her to bask in his masculine physique. Designed to be powerful perhaps. That explained how he managed to look so built when he didn't work out beyond what his job called for, how he never seemed to lose weight even when he kept forgetting to eat. Funny how it all made sense now. She could appreciate his body for what it was, designed or not. Arms and hands and even fingers got the treatment once she was finished with his chest.

The pants were next, but before she could see to them, the boots had to go. This was not going to be some pants-half-down quickie after. Vera did draw a line at kissing his unwashed feet, but was more than pleased to start at his ankle and work her way up those firm calves and solid thighs, all the while murmuring words of praise. Sturges was flexing in reaction (or perhaps in anticipation?) underneath her, all those synthetic muscles buzzing with life. "Vera, please…" he breathed, fingers finding purchase in her hair.

Something finally struck her then, something about the rawness of his voice, the breathy tones and the uncertainty. He'd always been passive, but now, she was putting two and two together. "You haven't actually done this before me, have you?"

"Those memories…they were always so unclear. I guess that's part of what they short-changed me." He gave a weak smile. "Like I believed I'd done it before but could never remember anything specific about it. It felt like the first time, and I guess it was the first time."

"Fuck." She stretched so she was back up to eye-level. "I would have gone about this completely differently if I had only known… I could have made it better for you!"

"I don't have any regrets." His gaze never wavered as he uttered the words, and she felt an overwhelming urge to take him.

"Then neither do I." She reached for the waistband of his underwear and tugged them down and off, tossing the garment somewhere in the corner. They could find it later. For now, she just wanted to bask in the sight of him, completely naked before her, so powerful but so meek as he attempted to process everything that was happening. One thing was for sure: this was the most turned on he had ever been, as if understanding his true nature had liberated him and allowed him to feel it fully.

When she began tugging her own clothes from her body, he finally had to ask. "How far is this going?"

"Well," she contemplated, tossing her bra somewhere in the same area as his underwear, "I did say I wanted to know ALL of you."

He dared to let his hand wander over soft, pale skin, the likes of which were unheard of in the Commonwealth. "I don't think we should go all the way tonight. We're both too emotional about, well, everything at the current moment."

Vera sighed as she shimmied out of her underwear. "I hate it when you are right. And you are ALWAYS right." Now she joined him on the mattress, just as bare as he was. "But we'll at least go somewhere, won't we?"

For the first time, a curious hand reached out and squeezed one of her eager breasts. There was no need to hide his uncertainty any longer. "Darlin', we've got plenty of places to go."