Doctors and Dames

"So, this is where you got to?"

Quinn's legs dangled over the edge of a roof on the far side of Sanctuary from her old home. The house had once belonged to Mrs Bossanova, a tiny, elderly lady who had kept an antique sword collection the way most old dears kept cats. Quinn had never asked why Mrs Bossanova had them; it felt like if she knew the answer, the old lady would have had to kill her.

Quinn gazed down the street to her own ruined home, smiling slightly at the pile of friends propped outside the front door. Hancock, Preston, and Piper were sat in a line, fast asleep against the wall; likely they had been waiting all night for her to emerge so they could talk to her. She had silently skirted around them and made her way towards sweet isolation, occasionally glancing around to see if Danse was nearby. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Kid, don't ignore me. I have the patience of a saint."

With a sigh, Quinn looked down to see Nick Valentine gazing up at her from the sidewalk, arms folded and wearing a frown.

"What is it, Nick?"

"You tell me." He paused, and when she didn't answer, grumbled to himself. "Am I going to have to come up there?"

"No." She looked out onto the horizon at the washed out colours of the Commonwealth sunrise. Everything was so muted here, bled of life. Quinn gave a little shrug. "I'm fine."

More grumbling.

"So what you mean is, 'Yes, Nick, I would like to make the old rust bucket climb up a house because I'm too damn stubborn to come down to you,'" Nick said in a high-pitched imitation of Quinn's voice.

"Well, it'll get the coolant pumping, at any rate. 'Oh, Nick, are you sure? I don't want you to hurt yourself! You're so old and fragile.' Oh no, don't worry. My arm might be about to fall off, but it's no trouble at all. 'Oh Nick, you're so wonderful, so kind…'"

He went on muttering to himself as he made his way around the back of the house and noisily clambered up, knocking off the remains of a drainpipe and snapping off a window ledge as he went. Eventually he pulled himself onto the roof and stomped over, dropping himself down so heavily next to her he loosened several shingles and nearly slid straight off with them. Quinn grabbed him and yanked him back as the tiles fell to the ground with a loud smash.

In the distance, Hancock stirred, nudging Piper in his sleep, but neither of them woke.

Quinn turned to Nick, her eyebrows raised. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, I think I got it out of my system."

Quinn laughed at this, and then found that she couldn't stop. She laughed and laughed until her face was bright red, her sides aching as tears rolled down her cheeks. She laughed so hard, Nick took hold of her by the collar to make sure she didn't take a tumble off the roof either. She laughed until it began to hurt so badly, that she realised she had transitioned into crying without so much as a pause, clutching at Nick's coat as she sobbed into his shirt.

He patted her back gently until she quieted down, and then produced a greying handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing at her eyes with the softest of touches. He had once told her that the original Nick had kept a handkerchief with him at all times, and that continuing the tradition simply felt like the right thing to do. Plus, it had come in handy with all the "crying dames that flood into my office."

"Better?" he asked, smiling at her with a hint of concern.

"Yeah." She sniffed and returned the smile. "Thanks."

Nick pocketed the handkerchief again, his arm still around her as he studied her. Eventually he said, "Now...you want to tell me what's been going on?"

A part of her knew he wouldn't judge her, knew he would support her no matter what. But the night with Danse had exhausted her, stripping her to her core. Quinn lowered her eyes, biting her lip, and shook her head. "I'm tired, Nick, I…" she trailed off. If there was one man who had always stood by her, no questions asked, it was Nick Valentine. She rubbed her eyes, sighed, and began to talk.

It wasn't the full version of events - Quinn didn't have the energy for it again - but she gave the best summary she could, hoping he wouldn't press her for details. He didn't. Instead, when she had finished, Nick gave her a little squeeze with his arm.

"I'm sorry, kid."

Quinn believed him.

They sat together as the sky slowly brightened and other settlers began to step out from their houses. At one point, she thought she heard a scuffling noise behind the house, but when she strained her ears, heard nothing else, and so forgot about it.

Piper was the first of the trio to wake, shoving Hancock off her shoulder as she stood up and went into the house. She came out moments later, as Preston tried to detangle himself from the struggling Hancock, and started talking to him. The two men leapt to their feet, and all of them ran off in different directions, calling her name.

She watched them, but didn't answer. Nick shot her a look, but didn't force her to respond. Instead, he said, "They're worried about you, you know. So am I. Do you need to talk about it? Vent a little? Shoot some raiders?"

"No." She'd had enough venting with Danse last night, and it had ended in tears. Even though Nick wouldn't be the same, Quinn felt too empty to be angry. It was what it was.

There was a slight pause. Nick took the plunge and said, "So...what are you going to do?"

"There's nothing I can do," she replied with a shrug. "As I said to...as I'm sure you've guessed, I'm not going to hurt my own son."

"I did catch a little bit of that debate this morning," Nick admitted sheepishly. "So you're going to leave the Brotherhood?"

"Yeah."

There was a prolonged silence. She sensed Nick was choosing his words very carefully. Eventually, he spoke.

"While I'd normally be pleased that you've found some common sense at last, leaving the Brotherhood…" He sighed. "I can't believe I'm saying this...leaving the Brotherhood might not be the best choice for you right now."

"What?" Quinn was flabbergasted. "Nick, they'd kill you without a second thought! Danse even tried! Do you need rewiring or something?"

"Yeah yeah, funny," Nick said, rolling his eyes. "I mean it. When we first started working together, you nearly drank yourself into a coma and ended up sobbing into a gutter in the middle of Goodneighbor. You kept up that behaviour right the way through, even after you took down Kellogg; I barely saw you sober through most of our downtime. Then you disappear for a few months and come back to Sanctuary, and it's like you're an entirely new person. Grounded. In control of yourself. Paladin Danse-"

"Is a fucking asshole," Quinn cut in fiercely.

"No arguments there," Nick said with a nod. "But even I can see the man has a calming effect on you, whatever his flaws. And you're strong enough of a person not to let him or his zealot brothers change you for the worse. I mean, look at yesterday. I thought we were going to have a hell of a fight on our hands with you in that house, but he stopped you from trashing the place almost instantly."

"Nick-"

"Look, I'm not saying you stay with them permanently," Nick said, talking firmly over her. "I think you're too good for them. And I think if you did go back, you would reach a point where their ideologies cross to a place you wouldn't follow. I trust you to know where that point would be. But what I am saying is you're going through a bad time, and the rest of us don't seem to have the influence that is needed to stop you from self-destructing."

He smiled at her. "Besides, it's obvious to me who the boss is in your partnership. I doubt anyone else could have talked down a Brotherhood paladin from shooting me in the head. Danse is fond of you, kid, and he's disciplined enough to help you stay on track."

"He's a fucking asshole," she said again, but with less conviction this time.

"He is," Nick said soothingly. "He is. But unless I'm mistaken, you're fond of him too."

"Don't, Valentine."

"Okay, okay." He held up his free hand in mock surrender. "I'm just sayin', I'd trust him with your life. And that's something, considering he's Brotherhood."

They sat together for a few minutes, Nick's arm still tight around her, Quinn's head rested on his shoulder. He felt cold and hard, nothing like Danse. She wondered where he was right now - maybe he'd left. The thought bothered her more than she cared to admit.

"I suppose I better let them know I'm alright," Quinn said, sitting up straight. Nick let his arm drop away from her, and she smiled at him. "But I don't really want to tell them what happened. It's...everything is just exhausting."

"I'll put on my sternest voice for them, kid," Nick said with a grin. He paused, his eyes widening, and then dug his hand into his coat pocket. "Oh! Before I forget…"

Quinn's breath caught in her throat. Resting in his palm, now chipped and slightly cracked, was her holotape. Did she want it? Her hand hovered over it for a second before her fingers closed around the battered plastic. Yes. Of course she did. Trembling, she opened up the compartment on her Pip-Boy and put the tape in, snapping shut the lid with a loud click. She pressed play.

"Oops, haha. Keep those little fingers away…"

Shaun was gurgling away in the background. A jolt of dread and panic surged through her, and Quinn gasped as she jabbed at the Pip-Boy, jerking her body so hard she slipped forward. Nick grabbed hold of her at the last second and hauled her back, hugging her tight as she hyperventilated, her hands pressed firmly to her ears. The tape had long since stopped, but the ghosts lingered.

Shaun was dead. Only Father remained now.

It took far too long for Quinn to unstick herself from the others. There was a small spark of guilt in her heart at the looks on their faces as she rebuffed their concern - Piper in particular looked wounded.

"Blue, we just want to make sure you're alright."

"You and everyone else in this settlement."

Yes. She'd hurt Piper with those words. But it hadn't been Nick that had made them leave her alone; it had been Preston. He had watched her quietly while she dodged question after question, before his low, gentle voice brought everyone to a halt.

"The General doesn't want to speak about it. Leave her be."

Quinn could have kissed him. And when she caught his eye, offering him her unspoken gratitude, she saw a glimmer of understanding in him. This strange, consuming mood that held her...he knew it, the way a man knows his oldest friend. Quinn couldn't say how she recognised this in him; it was simply plain as day to her, where others couldn't see.

Only Hancock didn't say anything, puffing on a cigarette as he observed her with a shrewd look on his face. When Preston interjected, Hancock flicked away the cigarette and walked off in the direction of one of the houses without looking back. Quinn hadn't tried to stop him.

Now here she was, alone, walking out of the settlement towards her little hideaway in the Commonwealth. Nick and Piper had tried to insist she had an escort, but once again, Preston talked them down. She needed time, he had said, and that time was what they should give her. It seemed there was more to Preston than she had ever realised.

He's a good friend.

The Red Rocket truck stop came into view, as shabby and derelict as ever. Quinn smiled. As she drew closer, an excited barking echoed from inside, and out bounded a dirty German Shepherd, his tail wagging so fast he looked like he was about to take flight. Quinn crouched down, putting her gun aside and opening out her arms. Dogmeat launched himself at her, and the two of them fell into a heap on the ground, the dog licking every inch of her face while she laughed loudly.

"Miss Quinn, you're back!"

Codsworth floated over to her as she lay on the ground, Dogmeat turning his attention to her ears.

"Hey, Codsworth." She had a soft spot for the old, battered Mr. Handy. "How are you?"

"Splendid now you're here, mum!" If he had a face, Quinn suspected he would have been grinning from ear to ear. He moved around her, waving his pincer hand at Dogmeat. "Shoo, shoo! You are getting Miss Quinn all dirty!"

Dogmeat ignored the robot, his tail banging against Codsworth's metal body so much, he had to float back a few inches.

Codsworth let out a sigh as Dogmeat clambered all over Quinn, and then said in a brighter voice, "I saw flashes of light over at Sanctuary, mum. I would have investigated, but you told me to stay here and keep Dogmeat company. Does this mean you have found Master Shaun at last?"

Quinn winced. "I did."

"Oh, well done, Miss Quinn!" Codsworth floated from side to side, revolving slowly on the spot. "...Where is he?"

"I…" Quinn swallowed. Codsworth was the strangest robot she had ever met; he didn't have Institute technology in him, and yet when she had first found him, he had been devastated by the war. Not that he showed this at first. It had taken a few lonely nights of her drinking in the Red Rocket truck stop and talking to him about the past before he had mentioned his feelings on the matter. For a mechanical butler, he was surprisingly sentient. Quinn liked it. It was nice to have someone left who knew her from before the bombs, even if all he had to offer was empty memories.

Still, she didn't want to make things worse for him. Forcing a smile, she said, "He's somewhere safe. I decided to leave him where he was, but I can go visit him whenever I want to."

"Oh." Codsworth stopped spinning around and faced her. "Are you sure that's wise, Miss Quinn? I would be more than happy to look after him when you are busy."

"And you'd be wonderful at it, Codsworth. But it really is the best place for him."

The only place for him.

"Well...a mother knows best!" His tone brightened as he bobbed up and down in place. "Shall I prepare breakfast for you, mum?"

Quinn opened her mouth to tell him it sounded wonderful, and immediately received a big, sloppy lick from Dogmeat right across her face. She spluttered in surprise, and then sat up as the dog jumped off her and bounded away, barking. She squinted into the distance to see what he had spotted, and felt her insides churn.

Partly concealed by some bushes, and looking thoroughly red-faced, was Danse. He stood as soon Quinn looked at him, and then glanced down at the approaching animal. Dogmeat trotted over, circling around the paladin and sniffing at his feet and legs. There was a pause, and then his tail started wagging as he bounced around, before standing up on his hind legs, his front paws on Danse's midriff. Danse chuckled and gently scratched the top of Dogmeat's head with one finger, and shot Quinn a nervous look.

"I just wanted to see if you were alright," he said, dropping his gaze to the ground.

Quinn stood up and walked over to him, her arms folded. How the hell had he sneaked up on her in power armour again? She really needed to work on her listening skills. As she drew closer, she gave him a sour look. "I'm fine. And as I told everyone else, I want to be alone right now."

Danse nodded, but didn't move, shifting from foot to foot, his face growing steadily redder. "I just wanted to say…" He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

Quinn raised her eyebrows. "An apology?" she said coldly. "That's two now. I should make a tally chart."

Danse continued, not quite looking at her, though a frown appeared on his face. "I still disagree with you-"

"Ah, as I expected-"

"Please," Danse said quickly. "You have every right to be angry, but please...let me finish." He took another deep breath. "I don't agree with you leaving, but I can't force you to stay. I shouldn't force you to stay. The Brotherhood is an organisation of everything or nothing; if your heart's no longer in it, it would be wrong to impose it upon you...regardless of my feelings on the matter."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "So what you're saying is that the only reason you're bothered by this is because I'm not dedicated enough for your liking?"

"No, I-" Danse's reached new shades of red Quinn could never have imagined. "I'm...not very good at this kind of thing. I…" He glanced from side to side, as if looking for some sort of escape route. Finally, he blurted out, "You're a good friend and I don't want to lose you."

Quinn blinked. In the back of her mind, the conversation they'd had in Goodneighbor played on loop, and suddenly she understood.

"It's a good feeling, but it frightens me all the same. Having a bond with someone then losing them...it changes you. I don't want to go through that again."

"Danse…"

He held up a hand to stop her. "I was...emotionally compromised earlier. That's no excuse; you'd been through worse and still kept control of yourself. I shouldn't have said what I did, but I can't deny that I meant every word. I am Brotherhood, through and through, and that will always be where my loyalty lies. It's who I am - I can't change that. But I've had some time to think, and what I've realised is that just because you can't bring yourself to stay, doesn't necessarily mean that bond of friendship is broken."

He sighed, still not meeting her eye. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry. You have suffered a hard loss, and I put myself before you. It was selfish of me. We may eventually go our separate ways because of my duties, but that is something I will just have to come to terms with myself. I shouldn't have tried to force you."

Quinn wasn't quite sure what to say. Of all the things he could have said, this was the last thing she expected from him. And if she knew Danse - and she was fairly certain she did by now - something like this must have taken a massive effort on his part.

Her expression relaxed somewhat as she said, "What brought this on?"

"I heard you with the synth," Danse replied at once. "He made enough noise to draw my attention, and then I found I couldn't stop listening." He coughed uncomfortably. "And then later, with the ghoul and the others I...overheard again. You didn't tell any of them what you told me. Not all of it. It made me realise that you trusted me enough to share everything, even though it could have put your son at risk. And I tried to turn it against you. I'm sorry."

There were a few moments of silence.

"You want some breakfast?" she said.

Danse finally looked at her, his eyebrows knotted together in confusion. "What?"

"Breakfast. I'm starving, and I could use some company. I could give you a tour of my estate as well, if you like." She waved her hand in the direction of the run-down truck stop.

He blinked a few times, and then a small, relieved smile played on his lips. "Yes. That sounds good."

"Codsworth!" Quinn yelled over her shoulder. "Omelettes for two, please!"

"Right away, Miss Quinn," Codsworth said chirpily, and floated away into the truck stop.

"Where will it get the eggs?"

"He," Quinn corrected automatically. "And I have a stash of mirelurk eggs. As it turns out, they keep for a ridiculously long time so long as they stay dry. Not so much if they're damp. I had a nasty surprise the first time I tried to stash the eggs away and found my freezer box full of extremely pissed off mirelurk hatchlings the next morning."

Danse snorted with laughter as he followed her into the truck stop, but there was a crunch of metal on metal, and it was Quinn's turn to snigger as he wedged himself into the doorframe.

"Need any help, paladin?" she asked sweetly, watching him struggle.

"Not at all," Danse replied, the telltale flush lurking underneath his stubble. "A momentary setback. I failed to properly estimate the dimensions of the entrance, and as a result, did not angle myself appropriately to…" He stopped, jerking from side to side, and then paused. "I may require assistance."

That did it. Quinn sat on the old, tiled floor and laughed herself silly, unable to look at him without erupting into a fresh set of giggles. Danse glowered at her from the door, and eventually she relented.

"Alright, alright," she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. She stood up, still chuckling to herself, and took hold of the handles on the front of Danse's power armour. "Put your foot forward so you don't fall on me when you come through."

He did as she asked. Quinn put her entire body weight onto the handles, almost lifting herself off the floor as she pulled. The power armour moved down, inch by inch, and then with a sudden clang, came free. Danse staggered forward slightly, his stance catching most of the momentum, but Quinn went sprawling in a heap.

"Serves you right," Danse said, but he offered her a hand. She took it, and he pulled her up with fluid ease. They looked at each other for a moment, still holding hands, and Quinn felt herself relax. The argument of that morning had been patched a little. Some anger remained at what he had said, but it burnt less. All wasn't quite forgiven yet, but Quinn remembered he had forgiven her quickly over her comments about Cutler. She could cut him some slack, at least.

Danse coughed and let go. "So, the grand tour?"

Quinn nodded and took him into the main room, watching him with a beady eye as he carefully navigated his way through the door. "Why don't you just take the armour off?"

"Negative," Danse replied with a shake of his head. "In an insecure location such as this, protection is paramount."

"Danse, we are literally about to sit down and eat omelette in a small, enclosed space. You'd be better off not wearing half a tank as armour right now."

"I...feel more comfortable in it."

He looked embarrassed again, so Quinn let it drop, instead showing him her armour and gun collection, along with the power armour station she had scavenged. He took particular interest in that, especially when she showed him the modified pieces she had collected.

"I never knew how to mod power armour," she said, rooting through a huge box of parts. "Not until you showed me on the Prydwen. But I always intended to learn, so I took to stashing every little thing I could find, for later." Quinn leant over the box, her feet leaving the floor as she delved right to the very bottom. "Aha!"

Quinn wriggled out of the box, holding her prize aloft. It was a battered T-60 helmet, covered in dents and scratches, but still intact. She held it out to him. "Here, since it was my fault yours was fucked up."

Danse didn't move. "Are you sure? That's a valuable piece of equipment."

"Take the damn thing already," she said impatiently, but also with a grin. "My arm's getting tired."

He took it, staring at the old helmet like it was a newborn child. "Thank you."

"No problem." Quinn threw the various pieces of scrap she had taken out of the box back in, and closed its lid.

Codsworth floated in, balancing a plate on each of his arms. She had scavenged an array of cutlery and plates from the houses when she had first returned to Sanctuary with Preston, managing to find a few that hadn't been broken. Cleaning them had been difficult, her paranoia about new diseases forcing her to use Codsworth's built in flamer to torch the dishes. The result had been a somewhat singed set of crockery before Quinn had given up and accepted she was probably going to die of dysentery anyway.

Danse raised an eyebrow at the state of the plates, but didn't comment, accepting his with thanks and starting to eat while still standing up. He took one bite of his meal and paused, looking shell-shocked.

"Is everything alright?" Quinn asked, tucking into her own food as she sat down on her bed. Aside from the smoky zest of the cutlery, it tasted like a normal omelette to her, with a slight hint of fish to it. Codsworth had used mirelurk eggs after all.

Danse didn't answer, but took another mouthful, chewing it very slowly before moving onto the next. While Quinn finished hers in less than two minutes, Danse took about ten, even though she was sure his food would have gone cold pretty quickly. When he eventually set down his fork, Quinn folded her arms, frowning.

"I know you're trying to make up for this morning," she said, "but you don't need to force down food you don't like."

"No, it's…" Danse shook his head. "It was good. More than good. I've never tasted anything like it."

"Surely they must have had decent cooks in the Brotherhood. Or in Rivet City."

"I've always considered food a necessity, not a luxury. Most wastelanders share that sentiment."

Quinn had a sudden vision of a little boy hiding amongst piles of rubble, roasting a radroach over an open fire made from litter and rotting wood, the bug's blood still fresh on his gaunt face. Empty packets of stale junk food slowly shrivelled in the ashy fire, while the child clutched at his stomach with burnt hands, casting fearful glances over his shoulder as the smoke from the fire reached high into the sky.

"Would you like some more?" Quinn asked softly.

"No, but thank you."

There was an awkward silence, broken almost immediately by Codsworth floating in and exclaiming loudly, "Ah, you've finished, mum!" He took the plates from Quinn and Danse. "Was it to your liking?"

"Yes, thank you Codsworth. You know your cooking is the best."

"Oh, I'm blushing!" he said, and left the room. She heard him outside, dousing the plates with his flamer and realised she'd never told him to stop doing that. Quinn chuckled to herself.

"So, what's your next move?" Danse asked her as the sound of the dishes being purged by fire went away.

Quinn shrugged, though she knew exactly what she was going to do. Whether it was a good idea to bring Danse along was another matter entirely. Could she trust him not to hurt anyone? Could she trust him to listen to her? Then again, he hadn't attacked Nick after she left for the Institute. But…

A long sigh escaped her lips, and she lay back on her bed, staring at the grotty ceiling. She had asked him to trust her, without question, and he had done so. Maybe it was time she returned the favour.

"I'm going into the Glowing Sea," she said. "I have something I need to deliver." Technically, she had two things to deliver, but she could deal with Sturges' request later.

"Alone?" Even without looking at him, the concern in his voice was clear.

"That was the plan, yeah."

"I'm going with you."

Quinn closed her eyes. The idea of traversing the murky, lethal wastes of the south west was not something she wanted to do alone, but it was not because of her own personal safety. As it stood, she didn't really care what happened to her now. But the promise she had made… In the face of Father's crimes, it seemed paramount that she help now. His sins were her burden, and she had to repent for them. She had to make it there alive. After that...well, it didn't really matter.

"I'm going to save someone," she said, finally, shifting her weight on the lumpy mattress. "You might take issue with him."

"Why?"

"He's a super mutant."

Nothing.

Quinn opened her eyes and sat up, wondering if Danse had heard her. One look at him told her, yes, he most certainly had. He'd gone rigid, staring at her with an expression that indicated a huge, internal battle was going on in his head at that very moment. Fury was blazing from his eyes, which were fixed on her so fiercely she wanted to look away. But reluctance was there as well, holding him back.

"Don't hesitate on my account," she said. "I'm not friends with you for your legendary use of tact."

Still, Danse did not speak. He looked as if he was about to explode. Quinn sighed.

"Look, let me at least explain." She dug her hand into a pouch at her hip and pulled out a small, metal cylinder. The tiny glass panel revealed it to be half full of a transparent, blue liquid. "This is a cure for...whatever you call it. Super mutantcy."

"A cure for the FEV virus?" Danse asked sharply, his eyes widening.

Quinn pulled a face. "Well, not exactly. It's an experimental serum that could cure one particular strain of the...the effie-vee virus." She put it back in her pouch, not liking the look Danse was giving it. "It won't work on everyone."

"We should take it back to the Brother-"

"No."

"Why not? They could study it and make more! That vial could wipe out those abominations for good!"

Quinn knew this would come up. She knew it. This was the reason she hadn't told him about her promise before she went to the Institute. Maybe she should have just left for the Glowing Sea without letting him know where she was going. It would have been easier.

Easier, but not right.

"Because," Quinn said, forcing herself to stay patient, "the scientist who created it needs it first. He became a super mutant to escape the Institute. He didn't agree with what they were making him do, and he went on the run for his life. But he didn't have time to bring all his work with him, and now he's slowly losing himself. If he doesn't get this serum, he won't be able to stop the change from affecting his mind. So I'm going to take this to him, and I'm going to try to cure him."

"I can't believe you're-"

"Think about it!" she said, irritation flaring up inside her. "If the creator can be saved, then a cure is much more likely to be made! You don't even know if this serum will work. What can Brotherhood scientists do with a faulty serum?"

"Probably more than either of us could understand," Danse shot back, scowling.

Quinn massaged her temples. "Look, if I save him, he's still going to be on the run from the Institute. You could try to recruit him into the Brotherhood. I'm sure the protection Elder Maxson could offer him, along with all of technology at the Brotherhood's disposal, will be more than enough of an incentive for him."

Danse considered this, his frown disappearing slightly. "You make a good point."

"Damn straight I do." She stood up and stretched. "I'm going into the Glowing Sea, with or without your help. But if you do want to help, then I need you to promise that you won't hurt Virgil."

"Virgil?"

"Sorry, that's his name: Doctor Brian Virgil. Do you promise?"

"I…" Danse's scowl deepened.

"Do you promise?"

Danse hesitated, but then nodded. "Yes, I promise. But if he makes one false move, promise or not, I will gun him down."

Quinn put a hand to her forehead and sighed. "I suppose I can't expect any more than that. Come on, let's head back and get my power armour."

A/N: Apologies for the lateness. A combination of work, feeling like shit, and having to socialise with people this weekend got in the way.

Thanks to my betas dragonifyoudare (tumblr) and waiting4morning (ffnet). They've done an amazing job, as always. Thank you to solesurvivorfox (tumblr), for sending me nice, uplifting messages when I was feeling really down on Friday. Thanks to everyone who left reviews. Love you all. :)

Happy Valentine's Day!