"What made you choose the Railroad?"

Nora, the Sole Survivor -or the Sole Savior as some were even starting to call her- lifted her head to her partner from where she sat, not-so-gracefully chewing on a full mouth of mole rat chunks across the coffee table. She sat comfortably on the vibrant red cushions, munching away in the cozy atmosphere of Home Plate. She chewed quickly, then tried to swallow more of her food to release an eloquent "Hm?"

Nick looked up at her with unblinking, staring eyes, searching her for an answer. "At the end," he tried to clarify. "You chose the Railroad over the Brotherhood and the Institute." She looked him up and down carefully. Unlike her, Nick had no need for food, so instead of lounging about like she was, the synth detective had seated himself directly across from her so he could speak to her face-to-face, eye-to-eye. He wanted to catch everything she would (and would not say) with perfect clarity. Nick's hands came together to form a steeple in his lap as he emphasized. "Why?"

From where he sat, Nick could see how swiftly the blood drained from her face at his probing question, and she swallowed the rest of her food hurriedly, gulping down some purified water to clear her throat. "Uhhh," she started, avoiding eye contact with him as she appeared to think fast on her feet, "because it was the right thing to do."

"Yeah but why?" Nick stressed, leaning towards her.

Taking note of his insistence, Nora looked at her partner with suspicion flaring in her eyes. "Well why do you want to know, Nick?" she returned, a sly smirk sliding up her face.

Nick started a little, caught off-guard from her question. He leaned back in the couch a little more, finding that he struggled for the right words. "Well, uh, it's just that-"

Nora lifted her eyebrows expectantly.

Words failed him as he avoided her gaze, and he ran his metallic right hand across his skull in a very human-like fashion, something that human, pre-war Nick might have done. . . Running his hands through his hair when he was stressed out. Yeah, that sounded about right. "Ah, geez." Nick felt bashful, if that was even possible for a synth. He looked up beneath his eyelids to ask, "Humor an old synth's curiosity?"

Nora's only reveal was a blink and a softening around her smile as he asked. She pulled one leg up on the couch with her, bending it so the sole of her foot touched the inside of her other leg. She leaned back, comfortable. "All right, Nick. For you," she promised, that smile growing more and more smug, as if she had some irresistible piece of information he would never be able to acquire. Nick found he couldn't interpret the meaning behind her expression.

She crooked her arm on the back of the couch so she could rest her head against the back of palm. "All right, Valentine," she cooed, causing Nick to think of femme fatales from the film noirs Old Nick used to go to, dames that oozed confidence and superiority. It startled him how swiftly she could ease into different roles like that, from relaxed and casual to intense and the embodiment of confidence. Personally, Nick blamed Deacon. Nora's voice poured out heavy and deep like thick and sugary honey as that same smirk curled up her face. "Ask away," she prompted.

Nick wondered if he would be blushing, if he were the Old Nick sitting in front of this woman. This is Nora, he chastised himself suddenly, frowning at his awkwardness surrounding her. She's not going to bite your head off. Just talk to her.

Replaying what she just said in his head, Nick met her eye-for-eye. "You said it was the right thing, choosing not to side with the Institute and the Brotherhood. How did you decide it was the right thing?"

Some of Nora's armor chipped, and he could see his partner trying to get through after such a personal, open question. Her smile twitched and lost some of it's confidence. "Well, I mean," she started, but her voice trailed away, and she stared back at Nick, looking confused. "What do you mean by that?"

Nick huffed out an automated breath of air, mimicking discontent from her not understanding. "Well you gotta say it doesn't really fit the picture," he led.

"And what's the picture?" she dared to ask, staring, waiting for him to continue. He sighed again.

"Well think about it," he stated. "You're a woman," she smirked at that, amused, "pre-war, presumably with pre-war values. Now I may just have a pre-war man's memories clanking around in the old hard-drives, but it would usually be safe to assume that women from your time wouldn't go fighting for justice for machines that claim to have free will."

Nora smirked as she huffed out a breath of laughter from her nose, "Well, you're right about that. There weren't many freedom fighters for Mr. Handy-Mans back in the day." She scratched at her head, a blank mask closing over her face as she asked in open honesty, "So, what are you really asking, Nick?"

She can see right through me, can't she? Nick speculated to himself as he avoided her gaze again. "Ah, gee," he muttered, and while he tried to gather his thoughts together in the cozy atmosphere of Home Plate, she waited for him. It was just a few moments later when Nick managed to grasp the words and meaning he was trying to express. "It's just that. . . when we first found the Railroad, and they asked you how you viewed synths, you didn't hesitate to say you would risk your life for one." He looked up behind synthetic eyelashes. "Why?" he repeated.

Nick detected the blush that rose over her face, and it was Nora's turn to be embarrassed. He watched her bite her lip nervously, worried at being exposed to something so personal, and Nick felt a swift swoop of shame at prying. "Listen, doll, if you don't want to talk to me about it, you don't have to-"

"It's because of you."

He stopped, lifted his head, and stared. She sat against the couch, watching him in turn. Nick blinked once, twice, then two times more. "Me?" he echoed, disbelieving.

Nora confirmed in the form of three short nods.

Nick was aware of his circuits sparking deep within his chest, or at least he thought that's what it was from the jolts of electricity that passed through every man-made nerve in his system. He opened and closed his hands against his pant legs, ensuring he could still move and feel. There was some kind of lump forming in his throat. "Why me?" he managed to ask hoarsely.

Nora pressed her lips together until they formed a thin line; she almost looked in pain at the question. For a moment, Nick thought she would refuse to answer such a personal question, but her personal response had warranted a personal explanation, so Nick did the same as she had, and he waited for her.

She breathed out slowly. "When I wandered the Commonwealth for the first time, I didn't care about synths. I only saw them as more advanced models of Mr. Handys." Nora's left hand moved to tug at her hair that framed her face. "I wouldn't let myself try to understand the idea that they could be more than machine, that they could be human." She locked eyes with Nick, and there was no denying the flush that colored her face, now. "But then I joined up with you; at first, I figured it would be good to have a machine on my side I could trust."

Nick slightly tilted his head to the side when he heard that. "Why did you decide to. . . trust me?"

Her hand twisted a lock of her hair as it twirled around her finger, and her eyes drifted to the side, displaying how embarrassed she was to be admitting such things. "Because I already knew by then that you were a good man, Nick. It didn't take very long to figure out." She left the rest of her confession unsaid as she returned her gaze to his stark yellow eyes, her own stare unwavering as she left the old synth to put her words together to form a meaning.

When he did piece it together, Nick found he could not withhold the quiet but sharp inhale of breath into his synthetic lungs as a rush of emotion sped through him. "You-" he breathed. She blinked at him, "So what you said when we first met the Railroad, that you would risk your life for a synth-"

"I was thinking about you," she finished for him, her voice softer.

Nick knew what she was going to say before she spoke, yet his breath caught anyway. The old synth felt his mechanical lungs expand his chest, and then decrease again to its' normal size. His mind whirred a mile a minute as he tried to figure out what to say, but came up short when no words filtered through his jumbled thoughts.

Nora seemed to be in a similar state, or at least unwilling to say more, so she looked away to draw her hand through her hair, her face flushed. She bit her lower lip briefly, a sign she was contemplating something, but the mask fell back over her face as Nick's stammering mouth caught up to the words bumping around in his head. "You-You'd really do that for me, doll?"

Something steeled behind her eyes then, a confidence rejuvenated as Nora met Nick eye-for-eye. "In a heartbeat," she said, and it sounded almost like a vow.

Nick swallowed, his chest aching as it was overcome with a swoop of emotions. He cast his eyes down, only faintly aware of his heavier breathing as his hands knotted together. Words again failed him.

The synth only barely heard the sound of shuffling clothes as Nora stood in one smooth movement and shifted to join Nick on the couch he sat on. She sat close to him, her weight causing him to tilt closer to her as her thigh pressed against his synthetic one. The sensors in his leg sent his coolant pumping faster.

Her hand moved to touch his wrist, and Nick angled his head to see her better as she stared up at him. "You're a good man," she repeated, her eyes glistening with honesty.

Nick again swallowed, unable to push down this feeling of nervousness. What did he have to be nervous about? This was Nora, not a death claw, what was wrong with him?!

"You give me a lot of credit, doll," he managed to croak out. His voice felt hoarse.

A smile flickered over her face, and the same softness shone in her eyes as she gently and reassuringly reached over and squeezed his wrist. The same confidence flared through her gaze, "I mean it, Nick," she swore. "I would."

His breathing felt harsh and labored, though she looked like she wasn't breathing at all. "Really?" he managed to ask, a whisper, awed and wondered at the marvel that was this woman.

Her only answer was a smile, and a couple of assuring nods.

Nick found himself placing one of his hands over hers in return, and turning his body so he faced her better. His metallic claw flexed over her soft and fleshy hand. "For this old bag of bolts?" he questioned, and something –was it gravity? – seemed to be pulling him towards her as he slightly leaned forward.

The same gravity seemed to be affecting her, too, because she slightly leaned in with him. "Without a doubt," she answered, not missing a beat. "And I know you would do the same for me," a dash of humor flickered in her eyes, "though I would never let you."

Nick chuckled, breathless. "I'd always take a bullet for you, Nora," he admit with a murmur. "I wouldn't hesitate, no matter what." His own vow in response to hers.

Her voice lowered to a whisper in an effort to match his. "I know," she acknowledged. Their heads were inches apart now, "And that's what I love about you."

And then Nora, his partner, his dearest friend, and his closest comrade finally closed the distance between them, and pressed her soft lips against his.

Nick couldn't stop the responsive gasp that filled his lungs, nor could he slow down the sudden increase in his generator pumping coolant throughout his body as fans distantly began to whir and gears turned with sudden vivaciousness. His right hand went to grasp at Nora's waist while the flesh-like synthetic hand went to softly cup one side of her face.

The Sole Survivor sighed against him, and she pressed close, craving his proximity as her arms naturally curled into his chest so they could crawl up to grab his neck. Nick was more than willing to oblige as he pulled her as close as possible, and parted from her to allow Nora to catch her breath while he planted slow kisses along her neck. Though it probably shouldn't have been possible, Nick felt his hands trembling.

A sudden awareness overcame Nick as he noticed how both of their breathing was harsh and fast, and his lips touched the shell of her ear to return her confession, "I love everything about you."

He managed to tilt his head enough to catch her pleased and flushed expression before she lifted her eyes to face him fully again and grabbed the sides of his head so she could lean forward and press another kiss against his lips. He sighed contentedly against her, and she parted again to look him straight in the eye. "I love you, too," she promised, her eyes deep but her smile light.

"You sure about that?" Nick found himself answering, and he moved one hand up to grasp hers that held his face. Keeping it in place, he turned his head to kiss her palm lovingly. "You can always back out if you don't really-"

"No," she responded, her voice firm. Nick slid his gaze towards her, his optics molten gold as she scooted somehow even closer to him. Her hand grabbed his tie. "I love you, Nick," she admit, her voice suddenly soft at the confession. She sat on her knees, leaning back into him, and as she did, she pressed her lips strongly against his before backing away to ask. "Do you know why?" she asked, and she kissed him again.

More than willing, Nick returned her affections in full as he ran his hand down her length of hair. "I don't know," he responded between kisses. "Why?"

She grinned against his mouth, her eyes shining as she slowed down, "Because you always know what's right."

I was going through my fanfic folder and found this. I don't remember when I wrote this, mostly because I don't remember writing it! But! -might as well throw it out there since it's all finished and I just had to read through it once or twice to fix any errors.

Hope you enjoyed it! :) Please leave a comment telling me how I did or tell me your favorite character in Fallout to romance (or both!) :)

I have a couple more of these forgotten one-shots floating around, so you may see a couple of those in the upcoming days. We'll see how school treats me this week.