With the Institute likely looking for a way to get their revenge on her for Bunker Hill, Tuesday decided it was high time to start digging some trenches.
Among other things, that meant retaking Fort Independence for the Minutemen. She stood there now with Preston, Piper, and an assortment of volunteers, raking her eyes over the crumbled wall of the Castle and the courtyard beyond, trying to gauge how many enemies lay within without being able to see them. Mirelurks all looked about like rocks when they were hidden in their shells, and the place was absolutely full of rock-shaped silhouettes. They could be walking into a nest of ten or a hundred for all she knew.
"What should we do, General?" Preston prompted her for a decision, having just laid out their options for a plan of attack. If Tuesday was being honest, none of them sounded all that appealing.
She looked around at their little ragtag group, mentally taking inventory. They each carried a laser weapon with a few extra magazines of fusion cells on hand. Their armor was thin where they wore any at all, and the looks on their faces spoke to their poorly-hidden fear. They really weren't ready to do this, but they probably never would be.
The vault dweller sighed through her nose. She had the superior firepower among them as well as better defense in the form of her power armor. The simple fact was, general or not, she was the one best equipped to risk herself out there. "Set up a firing line and I'll draw them out," she decided grimly. A few pairs of shoulders drooped in relief, but one listener was the exact opposite of pleased.
"You can't do this alone," Piper spoke up sharply from behind Tuesday's shoulder. When the vault dweller turned, the shorter girl fixed her with unwavering hazel eyes and lifted her chin. "I'm coming with you."
She might have had the Minutemen fooled, but Tuesday had been in enough firefights with Piper to know when she was nervous about a confrontation. Now, the way her jaw muscle twitched; the way her fingers were wrapped tight around the grip of her pistol, she was definitely over the line into afraid.
But Tuesday had expected nothing less, so she gave her companion a wan smile and replied, "I wouldn't have it any other way."
…
They very nearly died taking back the Castle from the mirelurk swarm—since when did they come in building size?—but it was worth it. Piper hadn't felt this breed of safe since…well, since her father was around, probably. The combination of the thick, if crumbled, castle walls and the warm reassurance of Blue by her side gave her an unparalleled sense of peace. The atmosphere helped, too. The doorway down the hall, the one that led to the courtyard, was dark under the midnight sky. A breeze wafted through the opening to make the corridor just cool enough to warrant a blanket. Piper and Blue shared one right now as they lay side by side on the newly refurbished mattress against the wall.
The vault dweller was dozing, recovering her strength after the ridiculous confrontation with the Mirelurk Queen, but Piper wasn't interested in joining her in oblivion just yet. It was rare to feel safe in the Commonwealth, much less peaceful, so Piper was going to savor this as long as she possibly could.
Plus, it didn't hurt to have the chance to bask in Blue's company and possibly admire her chiseled face and developing muscles while she wasn't looking. That wasn't weird, right? Piper supposed it didn't matter if Blue never knew.
She was doing it just now, anyway, facing her companion with her head pillowed on one arm and her eyes heavy-lidded as she simply drank in the sight. She didn't know how Blue had ever dared call herself ugly, back when they'd first cleared Vault 88. The woman was positively statuesque; all high cheekbones and dark brows and lovely (kissable) lips. Her cheeks were pink and scarred, like she'd said, but that only made Piper like them more. Blue was unique; many-layered, and her appearance only echoed that.
Piper's roving eyes next caught on a flaw that she knew must come from this newest chapter of Blue's life: a pale mark cut into the bottom of her chin, not brand new but obviously not totally healed. Piper had noticed it before, in passing, but never had the opportunity to fixate on it as she did now. She couldn't resist reaching out to run her finger over it gently, feeling like the contact was somehow a shared secret; like uncovering something about Blue that only she had the privilege to know.
It also had the unintended side effect of startling the vault dweller out of her doze with a jolt.
"Oh." Piper pulled her hand back quickly and grimaced to herself. Trust the nosy reporter to screw up the littlest thing. "Sorry, Blue."
The vault dweller let out a sleepy grumble and furrowed her brow, but the expression looked more confused than irritated. Hazy eyes flicked around the room, clearing only when they landed on Piper, like it had taken Blue a moment to remember where she was. Relaxing, she shifted so she could curl an arm around the reporter's shoulders. "What are you still doing up?" she murmured, and it came out scratchy.
Piper felt her cheeks warm and shrugged off the question, feeling like watching you sleep probably wouldn't be the ideal answer. Instead she returned her finger to the scar on Blue's chin and brushed it softly over the pale pink ridge. "What is this from?"
Blue smiled just a little. Piper thought she looked good like this, calm and comfortable in the darkness. "Deathclaw," she provided offhandedly.
Piper's brows shot up. Then she thought about that possibility for a moment, failed to connect the dots in a way that made sense, and gave Blue a skeptical narrow of her eyes. "Looks a little…dainty for a Deathclaw swipe, Blue," she pointed out.
The vault dweller shook her head. "The claws aren't what got me. When I was in Concord, right after I first met Preston, a Deathclaw attacked. I was fighting it alone. It did that whole…'pick you up and slam you back on the ground' thing. Knocked my face right into the edge of my power armor."
Piper propped herself up on her elbow in excitement. "Damn, Blue, that's badass! Why isn't this a story you tell everyone?" she wondered. Her mind was racing; lifting the most riveting details from the story to compile into something she could report later. She could see it now: Woman Out of Time Snubs Death (and its Claws). Or something. It was a work in progress.
"You think anyone would believe it?" Blue gave her a knowing smile. She hadn't believed it, after all.
That didn't stop Piper. "Want to find out? I've got a whole list of articles I'm planning to write about you, Ms. Woman Out of Time." She bit her lip to hold back a smile.
Blue grunted a negative that was almost a chuckle. "I'm flattered. But no." She tilted her head to give Piper a kiss on the brow, and that still sent electricity shooting through the reporter's frame. "It can be our secret."
"Mmh." Piper couldn't think straight enough to string together much more than that, now that she had Blue's lips on her mind. So she gave up, for now, and leaned down to claim a kiss somewhere a little more satisfying. Blue gladly conceded, and the night shielded them from all else like a blanket.
Piper could get used to a place like this.
…
Alas, they had to leave behind the safety of the Castle eventually. When they did, they headed west. Tuesday intended to investigate the broadcast she'd heard from Nuka-World, all the way across the Commonwealth, but she was wary enough not to hurry too much. She decided on a path that would take them past several new settlements so she could check on their progress while they were passing through.
Tonight, they'd made it to Country Crossing, and, after pitching in with the evening's farm work, retired to the cookfire at the corner of the house Tuesday had coordinated an effort to build some weeks ago. The vault dweller sat on the pile of spare cinderblocks at the edge of the glow; Piper on the ground with her back to the cornfield. They were finishing off the remains of a tough radstag steak they'd shared for dinner, and though it probably did more harm than good to her digestive system, Tuesday was feeling oddly content. She was full, the settlement was safe, Piper was likewise, and the air wasn't even overly freezing right now. She leaned back against the blocks behind her, letting out a sigh that accompanied the release of tension from her shoulders. For a time that could have lasted forever or mere seconds for all Tuesday knew, the vault dweller relaxed in the mostly-silence, letting herself simply absorb the rare lull in the violence of this new world.
It was Piper who broke it first. "Hey, Blue?" she spoke up suddenly, nervously, as if she'd been mulling it over for a while. Tuesday let her gaze drift over to meet Piper's: gray to warm hazel. Right now, it looked gold in the firelight. "What are you planning to do? When all of this is over, I mean," she asked, not quite managing to sound offhand.
Tuesday's mind immediately shifted into high gear to try and gather what her partner was really asking. It was unnerving, almost, that she had learned how to do so over these past several months, but right now, she couldn't quite nail down the problem. She settled for leveling a solemn look at the reporter from beneath heavy lids. "Do you think it will ever really be over?" she asked.
The younger woman shifted in her seat and shrugged uncomfortably enough that Tuesday felt a little bad. "Well, I mean…it has to at least get better, doesn't it?" Her expression said that she wanted; needed to believe that.
But Tuesday couldn't quite bring herself to buy into the lie. "I admire your optimism, Piper," she said hollowly.
"Come on, Blue," Piper sighed. "Hypothetically, then."
She was getting nearer to the root of Piper's concern; she could feel it. The knowledge was like a stream of ice trickling into her veins through an IV. "In the case that we really do rally the Railroad and Minutemen in large enough numbers to defeat the Institute, make it back out alive, and stabilize the Commonwealth as a whole before my two hundred years as a popsicle catch up with me, I guess I'd probably settle back down in Sanctuary Hills," she answered, making no attempt to hide the doubt in her voice.
Piper's eyes looked sad, but she managed a snort. "You, settling down? That'll be a sight to behold." When Tuesday didn't immediately respond, the reporter dropped her voice lower, softer. "Will you be…okay there?" She tightened her arms around her bent knees. "You know; memories and all."
Tuesday sighed and her shoulders slumped. "It's been okay so far, but then again, I've had plenty on my mind to distract me. I just hope it stays that way."
"Me too, Blue." Piper lowered her eyes and swallowed with visible effort. "But, uh…if you change your mind, just know there's always a place for you in Diamond City."
It took a full second for Tuesday to realize what she was saying. She wasn't prepared; couldn't keep the blood from draining from her face in sick surprise. "You'll be going back to Diamond City?" she asked hoarsely. But—that wasn't right. They were…together, right? Shouldn't that mean that they would stay together? Was that not what Piper wanted?
"The paper ain't going to run itself," the reporter reminded, regarding Tuesday a little oddly, like she had said something silly
And Tuesday supposed she had. "No, I know that," she rushed to cover her disappointment. "I just—I thought—" Stupid. Fucking stupid. "You know, I don't know what I thought. Never mind."
Piper's brows furrowed at her obvious distress. Apparently it was her turn to try to read into Tuesday's insecurities. Funny how they were better at that sort of communication than actually talking, apparently. "No, Blue, what is it?" she questioned, leaning forward in her seat to demonstrate her full attention.
Tuesday couldn't hold out long beneath that firelit gaze. She swallowed back the bile that threatened to choke her as emotions warred within her. "I thought, um…" She licked dry lips. "I thought you might stay with me. I guess." She dropped her eyes, afraid of what she would find on Piper's face if she were to look. "It was a stupid idea. I wasn't thinking about the paper."
"You want me to stay with you? Even after all this is over?" The raw shock in the other girl's voice made Tuesday's head snap back up.
"Of course I do," she responded instantly, earnestly, even as her brows furrowed in confusion. She didn't grasp why Piper seemed so surprised. She thought they'd addressed this, back when they first…well, confessed. She would always want Piper with her.
Piper let out an audible breath as if she'd been punched. For a moment, the only sound between them was the crackling of the cookfire, and they regarded each other across it like they were seeing one another for the first time. Like they'd both just realized something important. Tuesday supposed they had.
Eventually, Piper let a slow grin spread over her face. "Y-yeah, I guess—I guess you do," she breathed. Then her smile was tempered by a blush and a drop of her eyes. "I—I don't mean to doubt you, Blue. I just—I figured relationships established in a hail of gunfire rarely work out. I thought we might, you know…" She shrugged shyly. "part ways after this."
Tuesday's uncertain emotions suddenly sharpened into intense clarity. Almost without thinking, she propelled herself off her perch to circle the fire to where Piper sat. There she dropped to her knees in front of her partner to bring their eyes close, level. Piper met her gaze with wide eyes, startled by the abrupt change, but she didn't flinch when the vault dweller reached out and took her chin in one hand.
"I'm not going anywhere," Tuesday said lowly, roughly. She had to make Piper understand. "This—" She leaned in quick and gave the papergirl a firm kiss on the lips, earning a gasp of surprise. "This isn't going anywhere." She pulled back an inch and when she looked at Piper she could feel the fire in her own eyes. "I want you with me as long as you want to be here."
A breathless pause stretched like a tightrope between them, daring one or the other to cross it. Piper's chin was still cradled in Tuesday's hand. The reporter was searching her face with something like longing—as if wanting, willing her words to be true—and when she found only conviction in the sharp backlit planes, she surged forward to bring their lips together again.
Tuesday caught her around the waist and kissed her back just as desperately, the contact a physical confirmation of her promise.
…