Tuesday was looking forward to crashing somewhere safe for some rest and if not relaxation, then at least time to recharge. Especially after the physical and emotional hell that had been the final attack on the Institute.
Only, when she and Piper got back to Diamond City the night after the Institute's end, what they found was the furthest thing from restful.
The crisis was obvious upon entry. The gate guards were in a relative frenzy. Past them, Danny Sullivan was crumpled on the ground along the path to the mayor's office, blood staining the hands clutched to his stomach. Pastor Clements knelt in front of him, murmuring calming words, while a scattering of Diamond City residents commented less calmly in the background.
"Mayor McDonough," the wounded Sullivan was saying through his pain as the two women approached in a hurry. "I saw him with one of those Institute synths." He broke off to take a ragged breath and then gathered his strength to add: "Piper was right. He's one of them!"
All eyes automatically shifted to Piper, who pressed her lips together soberly. "For once I don't feel like gloating about that," she confessed. Her hand was already going to her pistol at her side. "Where is he, Danny?"
"Locked in his office," the guardsman managed from between clenched teeth. "Threw me off the elevator and ran."
Ouch, thought Tuesday. Danny was lucky he hadn't broken his neck on the way down. She figured he might have broken some other things, though, considering the tight ball he'd curled into around his bleeding torso. She knelt down in front of him, fishing in her bag for a stimpak. Her fingers closed on the last one. "Here," she said, pulling it out and offering it to Pastor Clements to administer. She had some hunting to do. "Hang in there, Danny."
"You're going to be fine," Piper backed her up, as much for the bystanders' benefit as Sullivan's own. Tuesday got it. Better that the panic be dissolved as soon as possible.
The vault dweller stood, turning to her companion with rage smoldering in her eyes. Rage for Danny's sake, and Piper's sake, and all the innocent residents of Diamond City's sake. The mayor had to go down. She reached for her own gun. "Let's go end this."
"Gladly," Piper returned just as grimly, and they headed onto the elevator and started up.
The ride to the mayor's office could not have gone any slower.
"Come on, come on," Tuesday muttered through gritted teeth as the old hydraulics hauled them up toward their target inches at a time. The system—all of Diamond City's systems, really—could use a major overhaul. Who knew when something so mundane would suddenly become a matter of life and death?
A Diamond City security guard was pounding on the closed door to the mayor's office when the elevator finally spilled them onto the upper level. They hurried over, guns in hand. The guard looked as if he'd been there for a while, but the door was still shut tight.
"He's locked the door. It won't budge," the man growled between futile kicks to the sealed blue metal. "And he's got Geneva as a hostage!"
Tuesday cursed at the very same instant Piper did. She could hear the mayor bellowing something from behind the closed door, but it faded into the background in favor of her whirling thoughts. "There's got to be another way in," she mused tightly. She knelt at the junction of the two doors, running her hand along it in search of a pickable lock or latch mechanism, but found nothing. "Damn it." She turned away in frustration, scanning the rest of the room for anything useful: something to lever the doors apart, maybe, or jimmy the hinges loose. Her vantage point from her knees allowed her eyes to lock on something out of place beneath Geneva's desk: a flash of red. "There!" Tuesday practically dove across the floor to slam her hand down on the hidden button, and the stubborn doors clicked open behind her.
"Nice going, Blue," Piper affirmed as she marched through the new opening with her weapon drawn. Her voice took on a much harder edge when she addressed the mayor: "Time to answer for what you've done, you synth bastard!"
The portly man was positioned over the struggling form of his secretary, holding her by the hair. Fortunately for her, his pistol was pointed at the intruders rather than her. Less fortunate for Tuesday and Piper.
"Oh, no, I don't think so," the false McDonough hollered with a tinge of hysteria. "I'll tell you what's going to happen next. I'm going to walk out of this city a free man—unharmed, with my dignity intact." He waved his gun at each of them in turn, eyes wild. "And I'll kill any of you filthy savages who try to stop me!"
"You're not getting off the hook that easy, McDonough," Piper snarled back. Her finger tightened on the trigger of her 10mm, but in the same instant, McDonough turned his own gun upon Geneva, who screamed.
"Wait!" Tuesday lunged forward enough to get the synth's attention, raising her arm to hold Piper back as well. She'd rather solve this without any more bloodshed. She fell back on her drills from law school. "Let her go. You don't need a hostage. We'll make sure you get a fair trial before the people of Diamond City."
"Lord knows you've got plenty to answer for," Piper put in acerbically.
"A trial?" echoed McDonough bitterly. "You know how these people feel about synths. I won't be thrown to the wolves in the name of some twisted notion of justice!"
"Then you'll pay with your life," Tuesday shot back.
McDonough aimed his weapon at her.
All at once four sets of gunfire filled the room. Three were trained on the mayor, and he barely got a shot off—at Piper, naturally—before he was riddled full of holes. He slumped to the floor, limp, the metallic component in his chest catching the yellow light for all to see. Proof that Piper had been right all along.
"Damn," said reporter breathed on a weary sigh, straightening up from her fighting stance as the blood and dust settled. At Tuesday's questioning look, she curled her lip in a half-grimace. "I can't say McDonough didn't deserve worse, but I bet it'll be a while before the people are up for a mayoral election."
The vault dweller considered that soberly. The city would be better off in the long run without an Institute spy preying on its people, but the risk of a power vacuum in the mayor's place was a very real threat. "Who's next in line?" she queried, looking between Piper and the guard at her shoulder.
"The city council," supplied Piper in a tone that said she wasn't too thrilled about that. "Hopefully they'll do a better job of picking up the pieces than he did." She jerked her chin at the corpse of the false mayor.
"They're in a much better position to do so now," Tuesday consoled, stepping closer to her companion to block out the morbid sight. "Now that they're free of the Institute." She flicked the brim of Piper's press hat pointedly. "And now that they have the truth."
Piper offered a slight smile. "Couldn't have done it without you, Blue."
"I guess you're kind of a hero," offered the Diamond City guard, and thanks to his mask they weren't certain which woman he was talking to. It was fitting, really. Piper had done most of the heavy lifting here in the city, but the conspiracy never would have come to light if Tuesday hadn't taken out the Institute.
"It was a shared victory," the vault dweller replied with a grin, and this time Piper returned it.
…
Nightfall found them relaxing together on the roof of Publick Occurrences, a cola in Tuesday's hand and a cigarette between Piper's fingers. The reporter was leaned into her vault dweller's side, and Tuesday encircled her waist with an arm. The closeness fought off the ever-present nighttime chill. Tuesday had her head tipped back to appreciate the view of the stars, which, at great cost, were starkly visible in the absence of any smog. She hadn't ever seen them like this—like a handful of silver glitter thrown across a black canvas—before the war. She was glad that beauty still existed here in the aftermath.
Almost as if that thought had summoned her, Piper chose that moment to shift and let out a stream of smoke that curled around the stars. "So, Blue," she began, voice husky from the drag, "is this the 'afterward' you were talking about before? With the Institute gone, the raiders dead, and Diamond City safe from the tin can I've been calling bullshit on for ages?" Tuesday could feel her tilt her head to lay eyes on her face.
She looked down from the sky to the other beautiful thing the night offered and let her lips curl in a little smile. "Yeah. I guess it is," she admitted. And while she had never actually expected to get here—dying gruesomely in the process seeming much more likely—she was at peace with all they'd accomplished. She was at peace with having no clear course for her future but to take care of this place and these people and this papergirl at her side.
"What will you do?" Piper asked softly, like she didn't want to disturb the quiet.
Tuesday was surprised by the question. They'd talked about this, hadn't they? She'd told Piper she was sticking around, hadn't she? But at the same time, she completely understood. Certainty was hard to come by out here in the wasteland. "Enjoy the night under the stars with my beautiful, heroic companion, I'd say," she murmured back, bending her neck to give said companion a short, sweet kiss. It didn't answer the question Piper had meant, and she knew that, but she couldn't resist the opportunity to flirt a little.
Piper hummed pleasantly against her lips. When they pulled back, though, she sighed, and it sounded empty. Like she was prepared for disappointment. "But really, Blue. I've still got Nat and the paper, and you've got the Minutemen." She lifted her head from the vault dweller's shoulder to look at her squarely, and even in the dim glow of the Diamond City lights, Tuesday could see the worry in her hazel eyes. "Are you sure you still want to give this a try?"
Tuesday faced her also. "I promised you," she reminded soberly.
Piper made a disgruntled noise, like she wasn't convinced. "But is that what you want?"
Tuesday reached to take her face in both hands and felt the blush rise to her cheeks. "Piper Wright, I'm the Woman Out of Time. Nobody can make me do anything I don't want to." She saw Piper's eyes widen, heard her breath hitch faintly in anticipation of her next words, and let a smile spread across her own face. "…and I want you."
Piper let all the air rush out of her and her shoulders loosen in relief. Tuesday caught her as she leaned gladly into her arms. "I was hoping you'd say that," she breathed unsteadily against the crook of the vault dweller's neck, and then replaced her words with her lips and it was Tuesday's turn to shudder. She wanted to share in this warmth forever. And they had forever, now, didn't they? Or as close to it as one could find in the wasteland.
She tilted her head to allow Piper to kiss down her neck and held her tightly in return. Without really thinking about it, a soft "I love you," slipped from her throat. The reporter shivered beneath her hands and came up to claim a proper kiss at that. Tuesday lost herself in it.
She would be happy to do this forever. To love Piper, and let Piper love her, and keep the world safe as a side job. She had come a long way from the day she stepped out of Vault 111. She was stronger, now, and freer. She felt like she had more of a purpose now than in all her years of prewar life. It wasn't perfect; not by a long shot, and it was nowhere close to the future she'd imagined. But she could live with it. She could grow here. She could thrive here. And maybe she could make things a little more bearable for the people around her, too.
The future wasn't bright, but it was clear. That's all she could ask for.
Piper whispered back to her, "I love you, too."
And that's all she needed.
…