#another space vault dweller OC

[darling-leech]

Fallen Star.

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt.9

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

The council calls another general assembly to democratically decide how to proceed with the prisoners in the reading room. As emotions erupt, things get tense and a little passionate, leaving you both to decide what comes next.

Part 1 Here Part 6 Here Part 12 Here

Part 2 Here Part 7 Here

Part 3 Here Part 8 Here

Part 4 Here Part 10 Here

Part 5 Here Part 11 Here

Norm was one of the last to arrive at the general meeting. As he entered the Vault atrium, he spotted you with a seat saved for him and headed over, grateful for the familiar face. Woody and Reg were already at the podium, delivering initial remarks as he hustled to his seat. Based on how his personal meeting with the Vault council went yesterday, he already had a decent prediction of how this meeting would go. 

Woody continued to address the members of Vault 33 as Norm took the seat next to you. “We can judge people and society by how they treat their enemy. And here we are with sixteen highly violent individuals incarcerated in our temporarily repurposed reading room. It’s an ethical dilemma like nothing we’ve dealt with before.”

Reg chimed in, turning the microphone towards his side of the podium. “Personally, I’d say it’s more of an ethical opportunity to demonstrate to the surface dwellers and to each other what we mean when we say we’re going to build a better world.”

Woody nodded. “Thanks, Reg. That is a positive spin to put on it.”

Reg’s voice grew firm. “It’s not a positive spin to me. It’s the goshdarn truth!”

“Okay, well, uh, the fact remains we need to decide what to do with these prisoners. And that is a decision we need to make as a collective,” Woody continued.

“In a manner befitting our shared values,” Reg added.

The space erupted in clapping and cheers.

Betty stepped forward, calling for order. “I think this conversation would benefit from some actual ideas.” At least someone was interested in addressing the problem, not just pandering for support. 

You raised your hand. “Hi, I was just curious if we’ve done anything to establish why the raiders were down here in the first place? I mean, they seemed to be here for a reason, and what if they come back? Shouldn’t that be under consideration as well?”

Reg nodded, affirming your comment. “Excellent point and question. We’ve spent numerous hours and resources trying to connect with these raiders for those exact reasons. For example, the young man Woody interrogated this morning left an impression on me.”

Woody interjected to uncomfortably clarify, “That would be the gentleman who showed me his butthole.”

“Yes,” Reg continued, undeterred, “but what I took from that is a desire to communicate. To reach out across the cultural divide. That’s a spark we can work with to create a great citizen. Given our recently dwindled numbers, the most ethical solution would be to rehabilitate the prisoners and then integrate them into our vault society.” He’s actually serious. 

“To be clear, this is not a process that will happen overnight,” Woody added. “Based on what I saw this morning, it may take years.”

Reg nodded in agreement, trying to get his two cents in, but was cut off as Woody continued. “But there’s nothing we can’t do when we set our minds to it!”

The Vault dwellers in the crowd responded with a resounding “Yes!” They were all seemingly on board and ready to take on the task at hand, eager to dazzle these Raiders with the formal education process. This feels surreal. 

“I can teach the raiders Shakespeare, and when they’re ready, Marlowe.”

Marianne retorted, “Now, I don’t want to be insensitive, but I think Shakespeare might be too advanced for these people. I would like to start with a moral framework. Kant, Mill, and so on.”

Another voice chimed in, “I’d be happy to teach them introductory calculus.” You had expected that the Vault would engage in rehabilitation with its newly acquired prisoners, but no discussion of the danger or concerns was honestly just negligent. These people have demonstrated how violent and dangerous they are.

Norm scoffed, unable to contain his skepticism. Reg noticed and addressed him. “Is there something you’d like to say, Norm?”

All eyes turned to Norm. He spoke up, doubling down on the rhetoric from your private discussion. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s our job to help these people. They’re murderers.”

Marianne countered passionately, “They didn’t know any better. And how could they without a formal education?”

Reg pressed on, “Norm, buddy, the hard truth is we can’t just let them go.” Laughing nervously, he added, “They have intimate knowledge of our vault security. So what do you propose we do?”

Norm’s voice was cold. “We can do what they would have done to us.”

The crowd gasped. “Wow, geez Louise, Norm.”

Betty stood, taking control of the situation and backtracking on Norm’s behalf. “Young Norm was just expressing a feeling. I know. I’ve got anger. We all do. But I think you’d agree that murdering these prisoners is not under serious consideration.”

“Hear, hear,” Reg affirmed.

Norm backed down, his defiance softening. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It was not my intention to question your leadership, Overseer,” he finished with a smirk. He knew what he was doing. 

Woody and Reg replied in unison, “Thank you.”

______________

You and Norm left the community meeting together, the tension from inside still lingering in the air. As you walked down the dimly lit hallway, you couldn't hold back your frustration any longer.

“You know, I expected them to dismiss my question, but the rest of that display, ugh,” you said, making a gagging noise, “those two were more interested in political plays than actually solving problems.”

Norm nodded, his face grim. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s like I told Lucy at that last meeting. Woody and Reg don’t want to do anything that hurts their chances of filling the gap left by my dad. There will need to be a new Overseer. ”

“I still think the raider point was valid,” you continued, venting your frustration. “The more I sit with it, the more it doesn’t add up. Reg wasn’t wrong when he said they had intensive knowledge of the Vault; that’s clear. But no, let’s focus on grandiose plans to teach them Shakespeare and calculus instead.”

Norm sighed. “No one wants to admit it, but I don’t think we have the luxury of moral constructs anymore. We’re living in a world where the old rules don’t apply anymore,” he finishes, leaving you with the sheer weight of that sentence. 

Sensing both of you were tired and frustrated from the meeting, you turned to Norm with a hopeful smile. "Hey, how about we try to lighten the mood a bit?" you suggest. "Would you like to come over for dinner? You still haven’t regaled me with how surprised Chet was that night I stayed over. " 

“As fantastic as that sounds, I don’t know if I’d be a good dinner guest tonight. I’ll probably just turn in early if that’s alright with you?” 

You felt a twinge of disappointment but quickly masked it with a smile. “Yeah, of course, Norm. I understand.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, though,” Norm reassured, taking your hand in his. You allowed him to pull you in closer, both of you standing there momentarily, the weight of the day hanging between you.

Then, Norm took a step closer, his gaze locked onto yours. Sensing his boldness, you took advantage of the moment and closed the gap, crashing your lips onto his, desperate for contact. The passion between you ignited instantly, and you responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck. The kiss conveyed all your shared frustrations and unspoken emotions. 

When you finally parted, you became acutely aware of how public your display of affection had been. A wave of mild embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry, I kinda got wrapped up in the moment there,” you said softly, your voice tinged with warmth and lingering desire.

“I didn’t hate it,” he replied, his eyes still locked onto yours, filled with the same longing and affection. “I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N).” 

“Night, Norm.” You watched as he walked away, and a mix of contentment and concern settled in your chest.

__________________

Norm didn’t end up going home like he told you. Instead, he wandered aimlessly around the vault, his thoughts a tangled mess. Eventually, he found himself on one of the balconies overlooking the main atrium. The soft hum of the vault's machinery and the distant murmur of conversations below provided a comforting background noise.

He opened his Pip-Boy and stared at a recent photo of his father, his heart aching. The absence of his father and sister was becoming a heavy burden, a void that he couldn’t ignore. You were able to fill a small part of that hole inside him, but the longing to know if they were safe gnawed at him constantly. Norm wondered if Lucy had managed to hunt down any minuscule clue that could help her track him down. He thought about her relentless determination and felt a pang of guilt. Did she miss him too? Was she struggling as much as he was? He couldn’t help but question his own worth. Did Lucy need his help? And even if she did, would he actually be of any help if he left the Vault?

The questions swirled in his mind as he gazed out over the atrium. The vault was a place of safety, but it also felt like a prison, keeping him from those he loved. The weight of his worries pressed down on him, making the darkness of the night feel even more oppressive.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the vault wash over him. In the silence, he heard footsteps approaching. Rounding the corner was Betty Pearson, two plates of pie in hand.

“There you are. I thought you might be up here.” Norm couldn’t help feeling it was an odd coincidence that he’d run into the former Overseer two nights in a row. “Made pie if you’d like a piece,” she said, already offering him the second plate.

He took the plate, eyeing her cautiously. He had already deduced why she was there. “Thanks.”

Betty settled beside him, a small smile on her face. “I was there the first time you tried rhubarb pie and ice cream. You sure did like pie that day.”

Norm sighed. “You came to talk to me about what I said at the assembly.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“It upset people. You don’t like when people get upset.”

“But you do?” Betty sighed and shook her head. “You’re not the only one who feels the absence of your father. People here are hurting. Disoriented. And with your sister gone, you’re the last standing MacLean. Your voice carries more weight than you might realize.”

Norm stared down at the pie, his appetite gone. “I hid. During the raid, I ran. I got in a storage space, left my sister and my best friend to the raiders, and hid.”

“Does that make you angry?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Regular boys can get angry, and they’ll just pee on the wall. When clever boys like you are angry… Hmmm. You’re lucky not to have seen where that can lead. Just tread lightly,” Betty cautioned. “That’s all I ask.”

She stood up, leaving him with his thoughts and the pie.

________________

After Norm's conversation with Betty, he decided he wasn’t waiting any longer. Spurred by the realization that days weren’t always guaranteed in the Vault, he didn't want another day to go by without embracing his true feelings for you. With a newfound sense of urgency, he headed down the Vault corridor and knocked on the door to your living quarters.

You answered, surprised but happy to see him. "Norm, what are you—"

He cut you off by wrapping you in his arms and pulling you into a strong, passionate kiss. 

Norm kissed you deeply, pushing you back into the main living space as you hit the button for the door sealing you both inside. His hands roamed your back as he guided you further inside, the kiss growing more intense with each passing second. You felt the urgency and desire in his touch, and it mirrored your own.

As you moved together, your surroundings blurred. Norm's hands found the small of your back, pulling you even closer while your fingers tangled in his hair. You could feel the heat between you rising, the connection deepening with every touch, every kiss.

He gently maneuvered you towards the couch, never breaking the kiss. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the overwhelming need to be closer, to express everything you both had held back for so long. Norm's lips moved to your neck, and you sighed, your body responding to his every touch. The top half of your Vault suit restricted his advances and became his next target. With a determined yet tender touch, Norm moved his hands around you to unzip the remaining fabric standing between him and your body, spurred on by your urging. However, in the urgency of the moment, he accidentally bumped into an injured section of your arm.

You let out a small yelp of pain, instinctively grabbing the affected area with your opposing hand. Both of you recoiled, the sudden reminder of your fragility hitting harder than either of you expected.

“I’m so sorry,” Norm stammered, his eyes wide with concern and guilt as he scooted back.

“It’s okay,” you said, wincing slightly but trying to reassure him. “I just wasn’t ready for that.”

His face contorted with anguish, the reality of your injuries stark against the backdrop of his longing. He reached out as if to help but then hesitated, unsure of himself, unsure of everything. “I’m sorry, this was a mistake. I need to–” Norm’s voice trembled, his eyes darting away from your injuries peeking out from your Vault suit. 

“Norm,” you said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap between you, “is that what you really want? Cause I don’t buy it, really ask yourself.”  

Norm shook his head, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand. I hurt you. I don’t deserve–”

“You don’t get to decide what either of us deserve,” you interrupted, placing a hand gently on his arm. “That’s for us to figure out together, if we want to. Running away isn’t going to make it better for either of us.”

He looked down at your hand, the touch grounding him, pulling him out of the whirlpool of his thoughts. His breath hitched, “I can’t–” he started, but his voice cracked.

“Yes, you can. You didn’t do this to me and I don’t blame you for any of it. Honestly, if you didn’t leave taking those raiders with you we both would have died in that corridor. Deep down you know that kept us alive, and you might feel guilty about that, but it’s true,” you said, slidding even closer, so close that you could feel the heat of his body, his breath mingling with yours. Norm’s defenses crumbled, he let out a shuddering breath, his eyes filling with tears he’d held back for too long.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to know right now,” you replied, your own voice trembling with emotion.

[gabriellerudessa]

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - Part XIX

Marigold’s cheeky grin shrunk, eyes blinking at him, slowly becoming the deer in the headlights look. The sliver of sunlight falling across her face let him see how the golden-brown in her cheeks intensified compared to the rest of her face.

Flustered. And flushed. He was pretty sure that was a first.

“Oh.”

AO3 | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XX | Part XXI (Smut) | Part XXII | Part XXIII | Part XXIV | Part XXV | Part XXVI (Smut) | Part XXVII | Part XXVIII | Part XXIX | Part XXX | Part XXXI | Part XXXII | Part XXXIII | Part XXXIV (Smut) | Part XXXV | Part XXXVI (END)

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

Words: 3.972

Warnings: None

XIX

Marigold twirled in the space amidst the high corn stalks, laughing, the red skirt swishing and the long braid whipping around her, her movements fast and full of certainty, even while out of sync with the song and all the other Vault-Dwellers around her.

He smiled, and she captured his look. A cheeky grin, a wink, a kiss blow out towards him, and she kept going.

Happiness looked good on her.

---------

As he came to, Norm felt warm, relaxed, comfortable, and while there was weight around his middle, it didn’t felt stifling.

A constant puff of hot hair against the skin of his neck, where the Vault-Suit didn’t reach, and he shivered, a little more awake. Sighing, his head lolled towards the weight and pressure he felt against his side, arm tightening a bit, eyes slowly opening.

Without the rad-storm covering the sky, slivers of sunlight managed to get in through the gaps in the wood and metal. It was enough for Norm to see Marigold, a line of sun cutting across her cheekbone and crooked nose, not bothering her: she still breathed deeply, body relaxed against his, lips smiling. She also hadn’t braided her hair again, and it tangled above her shoulder.

He swallowed, fingers sliding between the strands without his permission. Marigold looked blissfully happy at that moment, and the thought from his dream came back like a punch to the guts: happiness looked good on her.

With the proximity and quietness, his eyes acted without prompting from him.

The crooked nose and its accompanying cut across it. The only one he knew its origin, a result of sex for survival. An ugly story, and it made something thorny squeeze his chest. Norm forced himself to deviate his eyes.

Which animal had made the claw marks on one of her cheeks? He had never asked. And the burn on the other cheek, going down until almost her neck… The line cutting lower lip and chin… The missing tooth… Fighting? Accident? He hoped none resulting from an equally ugly story.

His eyes lowered to her arm above his body and blanket, still exposed; the rasping shot on her upper arm was almost totally healed, no scar in sight. How many other wounds she had gone through that hadn’t left permanent marks?

Constantly dressing her own wounds, maybe returning home bloodied, with more scars, more wounds, more hurt by what she had needed to do to return another day… And still hadn’t hesitated in putting herself in between him and danger any time it had appeared. He bet she did the same with her family.

Human. Only human. Still left her home to hunt, even at the risk of being surrounded and needing to do something she hated so she could return, at the risk of dying, at so many risks…

Sighing, he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she snuggled closer, pulling him tighter without waking up, and it made his heart flutter and accelerate at the utter trust she showed in that moment, as if they had known each other all their lives.

He still needed to find Lucy, tell her everything…

But at that exact moment, the only thing in his mind was that the thought of him and Marigold having to follow their separate paths hurt. Not like before, because he didn’t want to travel alone, didn’t know if he would survive in the surface.

But because he feared for Marigold travelling alone, a bounty on her head, no one to help her with wounds or in seeing shelter or to share watch shifts during the night when there was no door to lock.

Would she even be alive if he ever managed to return to the ranch and use the whistles?

God. It was the same fear from when he noticed that Lucy could be dead in the Wasteland and he wouldn’t know because of how vast it all was.

The uncertainty tightened his chest, his heart skipping for a moment, and he kissed her forehead again, a little harder than he intended.

Damn it.

He was falling in love, wasn’t he?

---------

Marigold awoke with a hard pressure against her forehead: a kiss. She smiled and sighed, the smell of sand and leather prickling her nose, and opened her eyes.

Norm looked at her, slivers of sunlight hitting one of his eyes just right, the brown honeyed and soft, hair deliciously mussed from sleep.  She had half a mind to muss it even more before anything else.

“Good morning.” She leaned forward, pecking his lips, and he sighed and leaned into it.

“… Morning.” He answered belatedly, still staring at her, and she grinned.

“What? Seeing something pretty, Norm-boy?” she teased, and being tightly pressed against him, she felt how his heartbeat speed up at the question.

His mouth opened a fraction, closed, then opened again.

---------

“… More like beautiful.”

He left at that, the words soft and genuine, unable to find any other way to answer her teasing beyond confessing – which he had no idea how she would receive and really, would be cruel to have done if – when – they ended up having to go their separate paths.

Marigold’s cheeky grin shrunk, eyes blinking at him, slowly becoming the deer in the headlights look. The sliver of sunlight falling across her face let him see how the golden-brown in her cheeks intensified compared to the rest of her face.

Flustered. And flushed. He was pretty sure that was a first.

“Oh.”

She breathed, and for one endless moment there was silence and the fear that he had fucked it all up.

Then the soft, pretty smile started to appear, the subtle flush in her cheeks still present. She caught his opposite hand, kissing his knuckles gently. Warmth spread through his chest, his heart fluttering, and Norm found himself smiling.

“Thank you, my dearest.” ‘My dearest’ instead of Norm-boy; it made the warmth intensify.

If calling her “beautiful” got that general reaction every time, then Norm promised himself to do so as much as possible.

They watched each other, and it felt eternal, but it was probably just some seconds.

Then she sighed and pecked his lips again.

“While I would love to relax the day away with you, Norm-boy, we better get going.” With that, she started to unfurl from his side.

Norm’s arm flexed instinctively around her neck for a moment, to try and keep her, but he forced himself to let her go.

---------

He thought she was beautiful.

That was what was mostly going through her head as they got ready to leave – thank God her pants, panties and gloves had dried –, making sure they weren’t forgetting anything, and turning off all the lights.

Her heartbeat picked up every time she remembered it, how softly his voice had been, the look in his eyes – God, his eyes… Marigold felt as if she was fifteen again, starting to discover crushes and kisses and sex and everything related.

The only glaring difference was that no one, not even Hugh, had ever called her beautiful before. At least not to her face.

Being lusted for, desired, was easy, she was used to it. Ever since her breasts and hips started appearing there was always someone looking and leering and making innuendos. It had only gotten worse after she put on the muscles, and really she had no trouble with it. Marigold knew that, especially for Wasteland standards, she had a well fed body that was bound to attract attention.

But… Admired, appreciated, for herself? That was a first. Even before the scars and broken nose, people had usually only looked at her body, their words accordingly with it.

Did Norm know what his words had done?

Fuck, she had gone into this all expecting to be the one sweeping him off his feet, but it was clear he had some cards up his sleeves, even if he didn’t notice or knew he was using them.

“I think we got everything.” Norm’s voice interrupted her musings.

Marigold shook her head, finished verifying her canteens, and closed her backpack. A last pull made sure the shotgun strapped with the blanket was secure.

“Yep, we did.”

She looked at him, throwing her backpack over her shoulders and back. The coat fell to his knees, sidebag against his hip, bag over a shoulder, and despite the combed hair, the Pip-Boy, and the fact that he had managed to clean all vestiges of her lipstick, he looked more like a Wastelander than a Vaultie. The fact that he wasn’t as clean shaven as when she had met him, moustache above his lips and beard covering his chin, just helped the Wastelander look.

Hunting rifle strap over a shoulder, they approached the metal door, and she threw a last look around as he unlocked it.

She would miss that place and the moments it had made possible.

---------

It was weird to be again in the open after the last two nights in the store-turned-home.

The sun had been up for a few hours already, and everywhere he looked there seemed to be more sand, piling up against walls and ruble, some not boarded glass windows broken. The wind wasn’t as noisy and fast as the previous days, instead it flew around them more like a warm breeze, not as refreshing.

They made sure to lock the metal door, the place marked on his Pip-Boy, before they started walking towards the coordinates for Vault 4.

It was slow going, but constant, Marigold’s hand not leaving the top of his back, and soon they left the ruined stores, desert and its sparse plants all around them and distant ruins.

“I ended up forgetting to ask. Do you want to learn to shoot with the shotgun?” Marigold asked after some time, looking down at him – lipstick reapplied, but after last night what it brought in him was more… Simmering instead of overwhelming.

Norm thought for a moment, tapping a finger against the strap of the bag. If –when – they ended up going their separate ways, he needed to know how to keep himself alive.

And if for some miracle they didn’t get separated, he would like to know another way to help keep both of them safe if the need appeared.

“I think… It would be good to learn the basics? I’ve never shot anything before, after all.”

“Then we will do a crash course at it when we stop for lunch.”

---------

They stopped behind some rocks as the sun was high; it didn’t offer much protection, not from the sun nor anything else, but it offered something for them to lean against as they ate strips of dried radstag.

“All right, Norm-boy, how much do you know about guns in general?” Marigold asked after she finished, pulling the shotgun and some ammo from her bag-belt, but not loading it yet.

Norm winced, swallowing the meat before answering.

“Uhm… I may recognize some of them at a glance, but that’s it. Never was that interested in them, and there was no big reason to in the Vault.”

Marigold just nodded, not seeming to judge his lack of knowledge or interest, and started pointing the parts of the gun – barrel, trigger, hand stock, safety… –, her explanation direct to the point.

“We were actually lucky that this is a single-shot shotgun.” She finished, holding the shotgun in a firing position, stock against her face, and Norm frowned.

“That’s why he only managed to get one shot.” Marigold nodded at him, lowering the gun and extending it towards him.

 “Get a feel for the weight first. He was also unlucky that I was faster in aiming and he had to content himself with firing one handed and from the hip.”

Norm caught the shotgun cautiously, testing its weight, keeping the barrel pointed towards the desert.

“Why was he unlucky?”

“He didn’t aim properly. Also, this shotgun uses some heavy ammo, which means a violent kickback.”

“You mean how much the gun goes back when shot.”

“Yeah. Doing as he did means fucking up the wrist.”

“Noted. So how do I hold it?”

“You’re a righty, so righty hand behind the trigger, here-” she tapped the place, and he followed her instruction “and left on the hand stock, here. Pull it up, butt against your right shoulder. The tighter against your shoulder, the better. Let your face lean into the stock, until you can look above the barrel and along the iron sights with your right eye. Keep both eyes open.”

Norm did exactly as she instructed, the weathered wood rough against his cheek, the metal of the hand stock heating under his hand.

“That’s the basics of how you hold it. Firing position. Don’t forget. Any weapon that’s not a small handgun like a revolver or a pistol, you always hold like this, Norm-boy.”

“You said something about heavy ammo…”

“Yeah, but you’re smaller and unfamiliar with guns. It’s really better to not take any chances so you won’t fuck up your wrist and shoulder, even if the ammo is lighter. All righty, let’s get up and do some practice shots.”

Marigold got up and advanced some steps and Norm followed, stopping beside her.

“Firing position.” He raised the shotgun, butt against his shoulder, looking along the barrel, and felt Marigold eyes on him. “Feet shoulder apart when standing.” He corrected, and Marigold circled him, nodding in his peripherals. “Good. Click off the safety.”

Norm took one moment to remember its exact location, then did it. Marigold made him click it on and off a bunch of times, each time easier than the last, even as his arms started to tire from the weight, until he didn’t need to stop and remember where it was.

“Good. Now to load it. It will heavily depend on the gun, but this shotgun is a break action.”

That term he remembered Lucy mentioning.

“It… Hinges open so you can reload the gun.”

“Exactly.” She grinned, showing him how to open and close it, a loud snap as she did it. “Try it. Hold it in firing position after closing.”

Norm nodded, doing exactly as taught, feeling the shockwave of the barrel and butt snapping close along his arm, and held it in the firing position. Marigold made him repeat the movement until he lost count of it.

“Good. Now, we don’t have enough ammo for this one for a good round of practice, but I think it’s enough for you to get a feel of how shooting actually is.”

She passed him a bullet, and Norm followed her instructions to load it, holding the shotgun in firing position after, safety on.

“If a person goes at you, you aim at the chest and stomach, it’s easier to hit. Anything beyond this needs a lot of training to get right. Got it?” Norm nodded; that made sense. “All righty. To get the basics… See that bush over there?” Marigold pointed, some fifteen to twenty feet ahead, dry and small.

“I do.”

“Aim there. Keep it firm against your shoulder. Keep your eyes open.” She touched his hands and elbows, slightly correcting. “You must pull the trigger, not squeeze. Have the bush on your sights?”

“Yes.”

“All righty. Shoot on my command.” She squatted beside him, eyes serious and focused. “Fire.”

Norm pulled the trigger.

---------

Marigold made him shoot three more times before they started walking again.

Each shot had made the butt kick hard, and he was thankful for her insistence at holding it firm against his shoulder; it was clear that anything less and he would’ve gotten hurt.

He also would need to practice more to improve his aim, since all shots had gone wide from the bush – especially the last one, when his arms started to strain under the gun’s weight. However, she had said that he had kept his eyes open, which was half the path.

“So what did you think of the shotgun?”

“Good for one, two shots, more than this and I’ll have trouble keeping it up.” His shoulder was still slightly sore from the kickback, his brain still remembering the weight of the weapon the longer he held it.

Marigold frowned.

“Fuck. I thought it would be fine. As shotguns go, this one is not that heavy…”

“Marigold, your muscles have muscles. Your ‘fine’ is probably my ‘with difficulty’.” He gave a sarcastic grin, bumping her with his elbow, and she shook her head, grinning back.

“Fuck. Yeah, you’re right.” Her hand was back at the top of his back, pressing softly. “We’ll try and trade it for some small and reliable handgun you can use in a pinch, if we manage to stumble into a trader.”

“Knife, bag, blanket, now a gun… You’re spoiling me.” He teased, and she grinned, extra trouble, eyebrow raised.

“What can I say, Norm-boy, I want to see you survive and thrive up here.”

She leaned down and kissed his temple. It brought warmth in him, made him smile, all right, but it wasn’t enough. He turned, grabbed at her braid and pulled, getting on his toes to meet her halfway in a brief, soft kiss. Marigold smiled against him, hand cupping the back of his head.

She hummed and sighed as he withdrew, and Norm cleaned his throat, trying to ignore how he felt his neck and cheeks heat up.

“For… For teaching me the basics of how to shoot.” He managed to say – maybe he was starting to get how flirting work –, and she grinned cheekily.

“Well, thank you.” She licked her lower lip, and he swallowed. “Is this backwards compatible? ‘Cause I can think of a bunch of situations where a kiss was perfect payment and reward.” Marigold teased, her hand still in the back of his head, and he chuckled, fingers flexing in her braid.

“Do you want it to be backwards compatible?”

“Absolutely, Norm-boy. The more excuses to kiss you, the better. You?” she bit her lip, heat in her eyes, and he swallowed.

“… Then we’re in agreement… Beautiful.” He tested, and a smile appeared in her face, that overall flustered facial expression he was starting to easily recognize taking over.

She pulled him, kissing him hard, a small groan against his lips. Before he could properly return the kiss, she was nipping his lower lip in parting and straightening, breathing fast.

“This one for how you used the situation to make a deal with Ma June and get the information you needed.”

“That’s… It has been some time.” That’s how long she had been thinking about kissing him? Sure, he had gotten her heated look, but it was still sobering to know with certainty.

She grinned and shrugged, hand lowering to the top of his back, and he let go of her braid.

“What can I say, confidence looks good on you. Now we better go.”

---------

It was the middle of the afternoon when they reached the Vault 4’s entrance, concrete steps leading up to it. There had been a brief moment of panic, when the first thing they had noticed were the tall buildings behind it, but Marigold’s binoculars confirmed that the entrance was before the denser ruins – thank God. After the feral ghouls, Nip-Nip and James, Norm really wanted to avoid those.

“All righty… Now what?”

“There should be a control console around here. I can connect my Pip-Boy to it and use it to try and open the door.”

“On it, Norm-boy.”

Marigold stepped away, searching around, and Norm went on the opposite direction.

“I think I found it!” She called from the other side of the concrete stairs, and Norm strode towards her.

She was holding a tall metal panel open, mounted on the concrete, the control console inside. There were some small points of rust, but it seemed in general intact, with lights shining in it indicating the door was locked.

There was also, unlike his own Vault, a small, circular sound box alongside a microphone, which meant they could talk with people inside. Maybe he wouldn’t need to open the blast doors and enter.

“That’s it. Thanks, Beautiful.” He watched from his peripherals as he carefully pulled his Pip-Boy’s cable and connected it to the control console.

Marigold froze, free hand scratching at her nape, eyes to the side, a small smile in her face. Flustered all over again, with just that pet name, her reaction enough to make his heartbeat flutter inside his chest.

Yeah, he was finally understanding why she liked flirting and teasing so much. Now he just needed to get better at how to do it.

“… You’re welcome, Norm-boy.”

It took some minutes, but eventually his Pip-Boy signaled the connection was complete, but before he could attempt to press the open button, a sound of static came from the sound box, then low voices on the other side, someone saying “I don’t know, all the scrapping teams are here”.

“Who’s out there?” someone finally said, the voice feminine.

Norm cleaned his throat and leaned towards the microphone.

“Norman Maclean and Marigold Bear. Who am I talking to?”

“Birdie. What do you want, Norman?”

“I’m from Vault 33. I’m trying to find my sister. Since this is a Vault I’m wondering if she stopped here.”

There was a muffled sound that he judged was someone covering their own microphone. Voices on the other side echoed, but he couldn’t understand what they said.

“Norman and Marigold, right? There’s a building north-west from where you are. Hawthorne Medical Laboratories. It has our safe entrance. You want to finish this talk, you come in through there.” Total silence, not even static, and he disconnected his Pip-Boy.

“That’s the other entrance talked about in the terminal, righty?” Marigold asked as he stepped away from the console, shutting the metal door.

“Yes. The file said that it’s some type of downward tunnel.”

They circled the stairs and blast doors, seeing the mentioned building, not that far from their position.

“Do you want to take this risk, Norm-boy? The notes were pretty old… A lot of things can change in five years. There’s no way to know if that Birdie woman is a Vaultie or whatever.”

He sighed and crossed his arms, eyebrows frowning. Marigold was right, of course – see Vault 32 and everything that had happened, for example. And if they got stuck inside Vault 4, it wasn’t only Lucy he wouldn’t find, it was Marigold’s family that would lose her.

Damn it. He wanted her close, he was falling in love with her after all, no doubts about any of it, but he definitely didn’t want her to assume such a risk because of him, when there were so many more people that depended on her. It wasn’t like travelling the surface to her sister’s house, it was something that could effectively end like a one-way-trip. Ask it of her didn’t sit right with him.

And if something worse than “get stuck” happened… He wanted her alive, for God’s sake.

“… I’m going in, Marigold, but you don’t need to. That’s my risk to take.” He relented, looking up at her, and she frowned right back, hand at her waist, the other tightening on the strap of her hunting rifle.

“Think again, Norm-boy. You’re going in, I’m going together, we ain’t getting separated until we at least reach Catarina’s.”

“If things go south down there-”

“-We will deal with it all together.” Her words had a final sound to them.

He sighed, stared at her, then smiled ruefully, shaking his head.

“All right, then let’s go.” He started walking, and Marigold easily matched his pace, hand at the top of his back.

[desert-dyke]

Nuclear Protection on a Budget

Sole Survivor and Hancock do the nasty in a Pulowski Preservation Shelter while waiting for a deathclaw to pass.

by request of  @gayngel6 featuring their OC Rachel

read on AO3 or read below

“Can’t we just look real quick to see if it’s gone?” Hancock asked, though Rachel quickly shot it down with a slap on his reaching hand.

“No! I can still hear it breathing!” She insisted. 

“You’re being paranoid,” He teased her. “Or else you just like this excuse to be close to me.” Rachel couldn’t imagine anyone being comfortable in a situation like this, let alone enjoying it. The Pulowski Preservation Shelter had space enough for one person to stand in and not intended for a vault dweller and a cocky ghoul Mayor to squeeze themselves both into. Options were limited though when trying to escape from a deathclaw. It was either make do or become acquainted with the claws of an aptly named wasteland beast. They both chose the former without question. 

Hancock fell quiet when she didn’t respond. Both listened for any sounds outside of the shelter. Rachel could have sworn she still heard the shuffling of a tail heavily sweeping across debris and the grunts of the deathclaw’s breath. Or maybe she was just being paranoid. 

She wrapped her arms around Hancock’s neck. It was easier to just give in to the demands of the confining small space and press herself closer to him. It seemed to help ease the feeling that she could not breath.

“I’ve got you, Sunshine,” Hancock reminded her. She felt his hands on her waist, tracing the way her vault suit clung to its shape. 

“Getting a lil handsy there,” Rachel spoke. She could feel the heat collecting in her cheeks.

“Would you like me to stop?” Hancock asked, a cocky grin on his face as he already knew the answer. Rachel shook her head. She leaned her face a little closer to his. His sunken ghoulified face nothing but handsome to her. Even his completely black eyes, no longer strange to her when she had looked into them a countless amount of times. Rachel bit her lip. “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of your’s?” Hancock questioned, brushing a curled brunette lock behind her ear. 

“This,” Rachel answered. She took his hands in her own and placed them on her chest. Hancock’s laugh was raspy but genuine. He cupped and fondled before reaching to unzip her suit, starting at the small of her neck and pulling it down across her belly until where the zipper ended between her thighs. She shrugged off some of the blue material, exposing her breasts. 

“You know, I am one lucky ghoul,” Hancock commented, another raspy laugh as he rolled each of her sensitive nipples beneath his thumbs. He always had a way with his hands - as well with his words. She gasped as his fingers trailed lower, slipping beneath her suit. Another thing he was good at, finding her clitoris, as he massaged gently. Rachel’s back arches, leaning her body further into his. She can feel herself become sleek and wet with desire for Hancock. 

Rachel wraps a leg around Hancock’s waist. One hand rests on her ass to support her. His finger slips deeper, matching with her sleek entrance before pressing in. Rachel gasps. His fingers were slightly roughened from the radiation, but otherwise an absence of fingernails were only ever a good thing in Rachel’s mind. So smooth and effortless his fingers press in and retreat only to dive back in again. It’s a tease of what she hoped was to come next. 

His thumb brushed against her clitoris the best he could manage with one hand and their current position. Rachel grinds her hips into him, adding to the friction. It’s good and all, but it isn’t what she really wants. 

“Hancock,” She whimpered his name, wriggling free of his hold. At the slightest resistance, his fingers retreat and he aids her leg back to the floor of the shelter. His eyes are on her. Despite their blacked out darkness, there is a warmth in them, almost as if he truly believed she hung the moon in the sky. 

Rachel slid blue material off of her shoulders, working it down her hips until her vault suit fell to her ankles. His eyes make a map of her body, as if the first time witnessing it. As if it were a perfectly preserved pie found after days of starving. “You going to come and take it, Mr. Mayor? Or just stand there trying to catch flies?” Rachel teased. Despite the coy comment, she is the one left blushing. There is hardly a distance for him to cross as he pinned her against the blue-painted metal wall of the shelter. Rachel squeals with delight as he hoists her legs up. She wraps them around his back, hands resting on either side of his face. Their lips met. Hancock, as always, used his tongue unsparingly. 

The shelter wall was unforgiving on her back, but Rachel ignored any jolts of discomfort. She grinded her hips, rubbing her wet and longing entrance against the bare skin of Hancock’s torso. He could not remove his pants fast enough, in her opinion, now that she was ready to go. 

“You comfortable?” He asked. Rachel flashed him a grin. Of course not. They were screwing in a freaking one-person shelter, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. She kissed him instead of giving him an answer, this time, letting her tongue push inside his mouth. 

She felt him line up and then thrust in, stretching her more than his fingers had the moment before. Rachel moaned softly, letting her eyes fall shut and allowing her body to drink in the sensation that was Hancock. He bucked into her, each thrust running her back into the merciless metal casing. She was well aware there would be a bruise on her tailbone the following morning, but for now, all that mattered was this.  Her legs squeezed tighter around his back. If she was blushing before, her face was a deep red now. “Hancock,” She purred out his name, running a hand along the back of his head and down his neck. She felt herself reaching the climax, about to tip over the top.

“I’m...close,” Hancock huffed. His body was damp with a layer of sweat, which no doubt mirrored Rachel’s. The inside of the shelter felt nearly suffocatingly warm, but not in a way that made her feel the need to desperately escape. 

“It’s okay,” She told him. As if her permission alone had caused it, Hancock moaned, his thrusts hitching as he rode out his orgasm. Rachel followed, microseconds behind, allowing herself to release a delighted shriek as she climaxed. She continued to grind into Hancock and his erect cock until the last of the pulses ended. 

He settled her gently on the floor. Rachel was too tired to move, her chest heaving for air. She laughed out of peer joy. Hancock’s legs were intertwined with hers, sitting across from her, and sharing in her laughter. She took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Her breaths were evening out now, but for the moment she just wanted to enjoy being with Hancock in silence. 

However long any of it lasted, Rachel had not been paying attention to the clock on her pip boy. She zipped up her vault suit. “It’s probably gone now, if you want to get going,” She said. She could no longer hear any signs of life outside of the shelter. Hancock wrapped an arm around her waist.

“What’s the rush, Sunshine?” He pulled her into a long and meaningful kiss, which Rachel happily melted into. She supposed they could wait a little bit longer. The wasteland wasn’t going anywhere. 

[impr0bablyhighrn]

Fallout OC Profile

(Some art I commissioned that is almost done has finally pushed me to make one of these for my Lone Wanderer. 😁 )

Full Name: Charlie Talise Myles (DeLoria)

Also Known As: Charlie, and certain people *cough* who are smartasses *cough* call her Charles, Chuck, or Chuckie and THAT is a great way to get a broken nose. 

Species: Human 

Sex and Gender: Cis Female 

Age: 20 

Birthday: 13 July 2258 

Birthplace: Capital Wasteland 

Sexual Orientation: het-demi 

Marital Status: Married 😍 

Religious Beliefs: non-practicing Christian, she thinks? 

Notable Strengths: She is smart, intuitive, creative, dependable, persistent, and loving. 

Notable Weaknesses: She has zero patience, a very defective personal filter, and she is almost always exhausted and cranky. She has frequent mood swings, is pretty pessimistic, and suspicious of others. 

Favorite Attire: Her armored vault suit and her Lyons Pride power armor...and her Tunnel Snakes jacket. 

Favorite Weapons: Harkness' plasma rifle and her silenced 10mm. And the BB gun her dads gave her, but she doesn't really use it. 

Personality Details: 

Most people just kind of think she is a huge bitch, but that couldn't be further from the truth. She wants to do good. She wants to help. She cares very much. But, she's also just really freaking tired in like every way. And everyone keeps yanking the rug out from under her feet. She doesn't trust most people, and when keeping them at arms length can come across as chilly or sometimes rude. To the people close to her, though, she's delightful. To them she is warm and generous, reliable, and occasionally pretty funny. She's not shy or afraid to speak her mind, and that sometimes gets her into trouble. She will f*ck someone up if she's pushed to that point...for example...she straight up murdered that traitor bitch who left Dr. Li's team for the Enclave. 

Backstory: 

Her backstory is consistent with the Fo3 canon. When she left Vault 101 for the first time, she was confused and alone, and entirely focused on finding her father. She ended up in Megaton, then Rivet City, then the Citadel. The only odd jobs she took were ones that helped her gain the means to survive or got her a new lead. She traveled only one mission with Star Paladin Cross, a friend of her father's, before Cross was killed in action after Charlie agreed to help rescue some mercs from a horde of mutants. She took it hard and blamed herself, then swore not to put anyone else in harm's way. She continued her search alone. 

 After she found her father and he was almost immediately killed by those Enclave bastards (seriously, f*ck those guys) she began working exclusively with the Brotherhood of Steel to avenge him and take back Project Purity from those who would use the good intentions of her family to do harm. She didn't entirely trust the Brotherhood, but she trusted Dr. Li and her team. 

 She found herself in the northwest sector of the Capital Wasteland in a cave full of children. This did distract her from her mission for awhile. She took the time to make sure they could have real nutrition and stop surviving on cave fungus. She made sure Big Town was secure so those kids wouldn't die the minute they left Little Lamplight, and after escorting Sticky across the wastes told them that whenever someone came of age to contact her and she would come help them make it to their new home safely. 

 Charlie returned to Megaton to resupply and use a linked terminal to check in with the Brotherhood. While there, she picked up a distress signal on her pip-boy from Vault 101. Her feet couldn't take her there fast enough. Once she was through the vault door, she demanded to see her best friend Amata immediately. Almost everyone she encountered on her way to the clinic had something rude to say about James or Charlie. Charlie bit her tongue, but kept her hand on her 10mm. She didn't trust any of them after they killed Jonas and tried to kill her...out of nowhere... just for being associated with her father. 

Tensions were obviously still running high, as one of the security guards nearly shot one of the Tunnel Snakes right in front of her! When she ran into Butch outside the clinic, she took a moment to speak with him. He bullied and harassed her and Amata their entire childhood, but the last time they had seen each other, Charlie rescued his mother. Butch was still grateful, and filled Charlie in on a lot of what happened since she left. He wanted out. The "rebels" wanted to open the vault doors and engage in trade. It was all so simple. Amata confirmed this, and Charlie went directly to the Overseer. She made no promises not to kill him, despite how Amata begged. After what he did to Jonas...and to her...he deserved whatever he got. 

 She was accosted and nearly shot by a security guard, so she went snooping in the security office where she found her former teacher imprisoned, and released him. She also uncovered a plot to have more people killed, and confronted the Overseer with this information. He had no choice but to step down and appoint his daughter to the position, but in a surprising turn of events, Amata used her new power to permanently ban Charlie from the vault. Not that she wanted to stay anyway, but after everything, after dropping her mission on the surface and after putting herself in danger to help, it was quite the slap in the face. She had barely taken two steps out the vault door before it sealed behind her with a "good riddance" from many of the inhabitants. 

It was like she was back at the beginning, lost and confused. She headed next to Rivet City. Megaton was too close to 101. She wasn't a favorite there but she did have friends, and she certainly wasn't in a frame of mind to continue her mission. About a week later while she was whiskey soaked in the Muddy Rudder, Butch DeLoria walked through the door. Maybe she was just drunk, but she had never been so glad to see him. They drank together and got pretty foul about some of the 101 dwellers. They both thought it was pretty messed up what Amata did, too, but Butch kept assuring Charlie she was better off anyway. 

 One thing led to another. 

 They set out together the next afternoon back toward Little Lamplight. Charlie hacked Joseph's terminal that sealed the caves off from Vault 87, but insisted that Butch stay behind. He wasn't thrilled, but would rather stay alive so he agreed to wait for her there. 

 After fighting her way through the vault, Charlie met a nice mutant named Fawkes who helped her retrieve the G.E.C.K. Unfortunately, she didn't make it back out. 

She did have a delightful time destroying Raven Rock and President Eden. Fawkes was waiting for her on the outside. They passed through L.L. to see if Butch waited there. He did not. Mayor MacCready told them Butch said he was going back to Rivet City, where Mungos belong. 

 With the help of Liberty Prime, Fawkes, and the Lyons' Pride, they reclaimed Project Purity, but not before Charlie agreed to sacrifice herself. She only wished she could have said bye to Butch...he was the only person other than the people present who she figured might give a crap. 

Thankfully, she didn't die, and she woke in the Citadel with both Butch and Fawkes at her side. She immediately wanted to see the progress of Project Purity and was delighted to be sent there, though incredibly distressed that Dr. Li abandoned it and left the CW to go north. Things only got worse. Not only were citizens finding ways to exploit and do harm with Aqua Pura, but there were even those in the Brotherhood finding ways to take advantage...and superiors wiling to overlook that abuse so someone could turn a profit. It made Charlie sick, but when she tried to inform Elder Lyons he wouldn't even listen. She just KNEW Sarah would have helped, but Sarah still hadn't woken up. 

Having no one in the Brotherhood to turn to and feeling completely powerless and disgusted, she went awol with Fawkes and Butch. They encountered some escaped slaves and helped them secure the Lincoln Memorial. They checked in on Little Lamplight often. They found a lush, green paradise to the north that was home to a talking tree man named Harold. This is where Butch proposed to Charlie, and well, since Harold was a "god", he officiated a small, private ceremony for them. They traveled to Underworld where they met many ghouls and told Gob's family what had become of him. 

 (This is where I'm at in the game so I'll add more after I know what happens and decide Charlie's fate.) 

Known Family: 

Butch DeLoria (husband) 

James Myles (Father, deceased) 

Catherine Myles (Mother, deceased) 

Jonas Palmer (Other Dad, deceased)

 Adopted wasteland family includes Fawkes, Dogmeat, Charon, Star Paladin Cross (deceased), Sarah and Owyn Lyons, Squire Maxson, every child at Little Lamplight, and Gob. 

Habits: She bites her nails when she's nervous, and bounces her leg when she's impatient. She always peels the labels off of bottles. She has to eat something salty after she eats anything sweet or she will want to keep eating forever. 

Likes: She loves being near water, doing something casual and relaxed with loved ones, and sleeping. 

Dislikes: She hates talking about her mother, being around too many strangers, tight spaces....and f*cking centaurs, who the hell even made those? 

Theme Song: M.I.A. "Bad Girls" 

Life Philosophy: "When nothing goes right, go left."

[snitchcrimsonwrites]

Maybe pt. 11

Pairing: Norm MacLean X Female Reader or OC if you squint

Former friends to a relationship?

Life is pretty easy in Vault 33 until you're trying to rekindle a former friendship and Raiders attack. Now, our main characters are trying to navigate newfound feelings, all while undercovering the mysteries of Vault 33. Stay tuned. Follows the main storyline of season 1; some events may be reordered for plot.

We continue our field trip to Vault 32 and then join our couple as they wrestle with big feelings and new revelations from exploring Vault 32.

Part 1 Here Part 6 Here Part 12 Here

Part 2 Here Part 7 Here

Part 3 Here Part 8 Here

Part 4 Here Part 9 Here

Part 5 Here Part 10 Here

The further you walked down the corridors, the more questions you had and the fewer answers you seemed to find. What truth had these people uncovered? Was it enough to justify the madness that clearly occurred here? The gruesome scenes of death, violence, and despair laid out before you were something you were taught to expect of the surface, not the supposed safety of the trio of Vaults. With every step, it became apparent that the real threat, at least to the dwellers of Vault 32, was within the Vault. We were supposed to be safe down here. 

Your path down the hallway was continuously littered with overturned furniture and debris, creating a maze of obstacles, which Norm dotingly still offered to help you navigate. The three of you continued this way until you entered the waiting area before the Overseer's office. The space was darker than the hallway outside. Glows from hanging Pip-Boys cast an eerie light in the otherwise dark room. You paused, unable to stop yourself from staring at the bodies hanging from the ceiling; you wondered what had led these people to make such a drastic choice.

The main door to the Overseer's office was opened just enough for you to slide under on your stomach. You and Norm simultaneously dropped to the floor and began making your way through the gap. Chet made his disdain known with an "Oh, geez," but you urged him to press forward; he wouldn’t be left alone in any room in Vault 32. You crawled through a mess of scattered paperwork and broken glass on the floor, trying your best to avoid any more injuries. You emerge on the other side of the door in the Overseer’s office, identical in layout to one Overseer MacLean occupied in Vault 33, but this office had definitely seen better days. The Overseer’s office was in a state similar of neglect and disarray to the rest of the Vault, with overturned furniture, limited power, and blood spattered across the walls. You nearly jumped out of your skin when your eyes panned across Overseer’s desk in the middle of the room. Behind his desk, the rotting remains of the last Overseer, still at his post, bound in place by electrical cords.

"Okay, I think it's safe to say they went bananas," Chet remarked, his voice tinged with unease. Horrified but still focused on the main quest at hand, Norm said, "That doesn't explain how the raiders got in." He turned to you, pointing to equipment on the right wall. "Check the mainframe terminals and see what you can find.”  He looped around to the Overseer's terminal behind the desk. “I’ll see what I can find on the Overseer’s terminal.” 

The silence of the Vault was broken by the occasional clicking of the keyboards; Chet continued pacing around the room while you focused on the task. His Pip-Boy illuminated the office's far left wall, highlighting another set of words written in blood: "Death to Management." Seeing the phrase, he doubled down on his earlier statement. "These people were crazy. If any survivors were down here, they probably opened the door and welcomed the raiders right in."

You looked up from your attempts at unlocking the terminals to respond. "I don't know. These people were basically us at one point; I think something must have happened to make them go mad.”

“Seriously, what on Earth would make you- Chet stopped, not wanting to utter the next words- do any of this?” he finished, gesturing towards the scenes in the Vault. 

Not having an answer, you continued plugging away at the keyboard, trying to figure out the series of access codes that would grant you entrance to the mainframe systems. As you typed, the terminal screen sputtered, struggling to run without power; any progress you had made was now reset. Frustrated, you said, "I'm not having much luck here."

Norm continued typing on the Overseer's terminal, seemingly having better luck. He scrolled through the logs, searching for clues about how the raiders had gotten into Vault 32. The computer commands appeared in green text across the screen: Accessing Vault Door Control Interlink. His nimble fingers moved quickly as he entered more commands, looking for the external vault door logs. His expression turned to surprise as he read the information on the screen. "It says it was opened from the outside."

You stopped and turned towards him. "How did they manage that?"

Chet added, "They would need a Pip-Boy to open the door."

Norm's face was pale as he answered. "They had one."

Chet's confusion was evident. "Whose?"

Norm's voice was barely a whisper. "My mom's."

On the screen, in highlighted green text, was the name MacLean, Rose. You all stood around Norm, too stunned to speak. The room seemed to close around you, the weight of the discovery pressing down heavily.

_________________________

The two of you entered his quarters and found a silent space on the couch. The stillness was almost suffocating, neither of you daring to break it. Your head was spinning with questions and theories. What exactly had happened in Vault 32 before the raiders arrived? And why did the MacLeans seem to be at the center? You had been unsure how to bring it up to Norm, curious why the raiders had targeted his father of all people, capturing him without any ransom or demands. It had seemed odd to you at the time, but you were sure now it had to be connected; you just couldn’t see the threads yet.  And now, for his mom's Pip-Boy to be the one that allowed surface dwellers access to the vault, this couldn’t be a coincidence. 

You pulled yourself from your thoughts and focused on the young man before you. He had to realize it, too. His family was connected to the events occurring in the vault. You took a deep breath and asked, "How are you doing, Norm?"

He stared at the floor, his shoulders slumped. "I don't know," he said quietly, his voice hollow. "I mean, I always knew my family was involved in the vault’s management, but this... This is something else entirely."

You nodded, unsure of what to say.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and pain. "Why would my mom's Pip-Boy be used to open the vault door? She’s been gone for years. And my dad... He never talked about any of this.”

You took his hand, squeezing it gently. "There has to be an explanation.”

Norm shook his head, frustration etched on his face. "But why? And why would my mom’s Pip-Boy be out there, in the hands of raiders, when she’s supposed to be dead and buried?"

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling, nervous to ask him the following question. "Norm, do you think your dad knew about this?” 

He went silent, the question hanging heavily in the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know. I want to believe he wasn't involved in anything like this. But with everything we’ve found... I just don’t know anymore. I find it hard to believe he could be Overseer and not know."

You nodded, understanding his turmoil. “There’s a chance that’s true; we don’t have much information on Vaults 31 and 32.” 

“That’s another concern I have. My dad is from 31, and I can barely remember him talking about it. No childhood memories, no friends or family he wished he could have kept in contact with. It’s like his life started in Vault 33 when he married my mom.” 

“We’ll figure this out.” 

Norm managed a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. (Y/N), would you mind staying the night? Being alone doesn't sound appealing."

You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I was planning on it.” 

_______________________

The heaviness of the day’s discoveries followed you both into Norm’s quarters, but the familiar, comforting space offered a small measure of solace. The silence enveloped you as the door clicked shut behind you, starkly contrasting the chaotic thoughts whirling in your mind.

Norm sighed deeply and glanced around the room. “I guess we should get ready for bed,” he said softly, barely above a whisper.

You nodded in agreement as the exhaustion from the day hit you. 

He paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “Um, I don’t have a spare toothbrush or anything...”

You smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. I can make do for one night.”

Norm seemed relieved and moved towards the small bathroom he shared with Lucy, turning on the tap to splash his face with cool water. He rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a pair of soft, worn pajamas. “Here, they’re Lucy’s, but these should be comfortable. And no comment, please, about you sleeping in my sister’s pjs while we’re in my childhood bedroom; I’m aware of the implication. ”

“Thanks, and you said it, not me,” you said, laughing it off, taking the clothes from him. You stepped into the bathroom to change, noticing the ordinary domesticity of his space: the familiar scent of his soap, the neatly hung towels, the small potted plant on the windowsill, probably his sisters, too. It was comforting in its normalcy.

When you emerged, you found Norm holding out his spare toothbrush. “I remembered I had a new one. You can use it.”

“Perfect timing,” you joked, taking the toothbrush from him. You both stood side by side at the sink, silently brushing your teeth. The rhythmic motions and the minty taste of the toothpaste were soothing, grounding you in the present moment. When you were done, you rinsed and spit, wiping your mouth with a towel as Norm did the same.

“I’ll get the bed ready,” you said, moving towards the tiny bedroom area. You pulled back the covers, smoothing the sheets and fluffing the pillows. Norm joined you a moment later, pulling off his shirt and slipping into his Vault Tec-issued pajamas. You couldn’t help but stare, and when he caught you admiring him, you patted the bed, welcoming him to join you under the comforter. He climbed into bed beside you, the mattress creaking slightly under your shared weight. 

Once settled, Norm reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a soft, comforting darkness. You shifted closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close, and he rested his head on your chest this time; it was your turn to comfort him. For a while, neither of you spoke. Your fingers traced lazy patterns on Norm’s back as he closed his eyes. He lay there still listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, still in somewhat disbelief you chose to be here with him. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Norm murmured into the darkness.

“Me too,” you whispered back. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything,” you responded back, curious about what the topic of his inquiry could be.

“Why me? I mean, you could have had anyone in the vault, and you picked the shortest guy in Vault 33?” he joked, but his tone was hesitant. He was interested but may be afraid of the answer he might get. 

You chuckled softly, shifting slightly to look down at him. “You must be misremembering. I was clearly the weird book girl.”

Norm smiled, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. “No, really. I want to know.”

You took a deep breath, considering how to put your feelings into words. “Okay. I enjoy the way your mind works, Norm. I love trying to figure out what’s going on up there,” you said, gently tapping his forehead. “You’re direct and honest. Seriously, it’s a breath of fresh air in a place where people often hide behind politeness.”

Norm listened intently, his expression softening as you spoke.

“Not everyone gets to see it, but you’re fiercely loyal to those you care about. It was wrong, but you cared about me so much that you isolated yourself, thinking it was for my own good. That’s a rare kind of selflessness, even if it was uncharacteristically dumb and misguided.”

He laughed.

“There’s so much to like about you, Norman MacLean,” you continued, your voice filled with warmth and sincerity. Norm's eyes glistened in the dim light, clearly moved by your words. He pulled himself closer to you, his embrace tightening.

“But there’s more,” you added, a playful note in your voice. “I also love that you play into my judgments of other people. Not only the humor in it, but it’s like you validate my intuition. You help me see the good or bad in people without any pretenses.”

Norm raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “You mean I’m your secret weapon?”

“Exactly,” you laughed softly. “You’re like my compass. You help me navigate this place, and I trust your instincts. They’ve gotten us this far.” 

He grinned, his humor breaking through. “So, you’re saying the shortest guy in Vault 33 has some hidden talents, huh?”

You laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the quiet room. “Absolutely. You’re my secret weapon, compass, and favorite person in this vault, shortness and all.”

“Hmm, sounds like you’ve fallen pretty hard for me,” he replied, his tone dripping with smugness. “Kinda hard not to,” you smiled, playing into it, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. 

Norm lay silently for a moment, his thoughts clearly still racing. Then, with a sigh, he began to speak. “ Wanna hear my reasons?”

“Should I be nervous?” you joked.  “I’ll be serious, I promise. It’s only fair.” He took a second to gather his thoughts and began again. 

“First off, you’re not just the ‘weird book girl’ to me, I mean, you are. No normal person reads the entire Vault library for fun-” 

“Hey!” 

He continued as you squeezed him a little tighter. “But that’s uniquely you. I couldn’t imagine you any other way,” he began, his tone earnest. “And you’re beautiful,” he added softly, his gaze intense and genuine. You returned a soft blush as he looked up at you.

“I don’t think you’ve ever seen it in yourself. How stunning you are; I wish you could see yourself how I see you. And it’s not just your looks, though you are absolutely gorgeous. It’s how you carry yourself and how your eyes light up when you’re passionate about something. It makes me want to be around you all the time.” 

He paused, searching for the right words. “And you’re kind. So incredibly kind and not the fake ‘Vault Tec approved’ kindness we learned here. Do you remember that time when we were kids, and I got in trouble for sneaking into the hydroponics lab?” 

You nodded, recalling the memory. “Yeah, I remember. You were trying to get a closer look at the strawberries.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s right. I wanted to see if they were as sweet as they looked. But I ended up knocking over a whole tray of seedlings. My dad was so pissed at me. I thought I was going to be punished for weeks.”

“You did get into a lot of trouble,” you agreed, remembering the tense atmosphere following the incident.

“But then you did something I’ll never forget,” Norm continued, his voice filled with admiration. “You came forward and told the Overseer that it was your fault. That you had dared me to go into the lab.”

You blinked, surprised by the memory. “I forgot about that.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “You took the blame for something you didn’t do. And because of that, my punishment was a lot lighter. I only had to do extra weekly chores instead of being grounded for a month.”

You shrugged modestly. “It was nothing.”

“But it wasn’t nothing,” Norm insisted. “You were always doing the kindest things like that for me. I have so many memories like that, which you probably don’t recall. You could have let me face the consequences alone, but you didn’t. You stood by me, even though it meant you got into trouble too.”

“I just didn’t want you to be miserable,” you said softly. You blushed, feeling a mixture of pride and humility. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

Norm’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours. “But more than all of that, you see me. The real me. You don’t just see the Black Sheep of Vault 33 or the son of the Overseer. You see past all of that and accept me for who I am, flaws and all.”

“I think I’m trying to say that I love you. And I think I’ve always loved you.” 

“I love you too, Norm,” you said, wrapping your arms around him and locking him into a kiss.

[gabriellerudessa]

Compass (Norm Maclean x OC) - Part XX

"Also, she had told that apparently his sister had gone off the rails because there was no other explanation for why she had invaded a damn restricted level, damn it. He had never even been able to convince her to play a prank on their father if it was to be done in the Overseer’s office – “No, at home all right, but at the office? Are you insane?” –, and they weren’t even prohibited from going inside it. That was how good of a Vault-Dweller Lucy was."

AO3 | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV | Part XV | Part XVI | Part XVII | Part XVIII | Part XIX | Part XXI (Smut) | Part XXII | Part XXIII | Part XXIV | Part XXV | Part XXVI (Smut) | Part XXVII | Part XXVIII | Part XXIX | Part XXX | Part XXXI | Part XXXII | Part XXXIII | Part XXXIV (Smut) | Part XXXV | Part XXXVI (END)

PLAYLIST ON YOUTUBE

Word Count: 6.174

Warnings: None in this one lol

XX

They crossed what looked to be a reception area, desks and terminals around, and while it was dark and dusty, it wasn’t as filthy and dirtied as he had come to expect. Double doors left the space, ending in a single door with a glass window in it, letters in it; Norm spoke before Marigold lost time deciphering it: “Medical Supplies”. There was another door on the other side.

“So…” Marigold started, looking through the glass with a raised eyebrow.

“Esther wrote that the floor opens into a metal tunnel downwards and ends in a chute. The other door is false… Or at least the handle is.”

“And it’s written Medical Supplies. That’s smart. Perfect bait for Wastelanders.” She tapped the window with a sigh.

“Still want to come with me?” He asked, opening the door.

“Of course.”

They stepped inside and she pulled him to her in a tight hug, his feet off the ground and their eyes aligned.

“Hey there.” She grinned, and he chuckled, hugging her back.

Sirens started, a sound of the door locking. Steam hissed above, and then they were falling.

---------

Despite knowing what expected him and that they were tightly pressed to each other, the chute taking them down to the Vault was… Terrifying and he sincerely hoped to never do it again.

It spat them into a small room, Marigold banging against a metal door.

“Fuck.” She groaned, clearly in pain, and let him go.

“Absolutely.” He agreed, and slowly got up, willing his legs to stop shaking and looking around. Marigold did the same before he could offer to help, hand rubbing at the side she had banged.

There were two stretchers against the walls, two doors and a glass window, looking into the Vault and its central garden, people coming and going, using Vault-Suits and scrubs and Pip-Boys. For all effects, looking as Vault Dwellers.

As he approached the window, Marigold close behind, eyes taking all in, a woman stepped forward, long black hair framing a friendly face, even if tired, older looking than her posture and eyes suggested.

“Norman Maclean and Marigold Bear, I presume.” The voice was easy to recognize as the one that had talked through the control console.

“And you’re Birdie.” She nodded slightly.

“I’m responsible for dealings involving the surface. Thank you for taking the risk.” Her eyes focused on Marigold’s forehead. “I’ll ask for a doctor to take a look at that.”

“You really don’t need-”

“She also has a wound on her thigh and upper arm and did something on her left shoulder some days back.” Norm cut Marigold, raising an eyebrow at her, and she actually pouted.

“I haven’t felt pain in my shoulder since that shot out.”

“Still good to take a look.” He looked back at Birdie, Marigold mumbling a not-that-teasing ‘bossy’ behind him as he took in Birdie’s small smile, typing in her Pip-Boy.

If she was offering medical treatment, he was going to take it while they could.

“I informed them of it all.” Her arm lowered, hands at her back. Then he felt her eyes in his face, distinctly analytical. “You and Lucy have the same eyes.”

He straightened, shoulders setting. He hadn’t told Lucy’s name.

Thank God some good news.

“So she passed through here.”

“Fell through the chute with a friend, Titus.” Damn it, he hadn’t asked Ma June the name of the Bounty. That had been so dumb. “They were searching medicine for his arm. He was as stubborn about it as any Wastelander.” Birdie raised an eyebrow without losing her slight smile, looking at Marigold.

“Fuck, you and Goose would go along fine.” Marigold groaned, no heat in her words.

“Marigold’s sister.” He explained at Birdie’s confused look. “What happened? Is Lucy still here?”

Birdie shook her head, gently.

“She… Invaded a restricted level and hurt one of our scientists. Titus briefly stole our fusion core for his Power-Armor and hurt more people to help her. As a result, they were both exiled to the surface with supplies for two weeks, a little more than a week ago.”

He blinked at Birdie, mouth opening and closing.

“Lucy? She invaded a place out of limits and hurt someone? In a Vault?”

There was no way. No fucking way. It was Lucy they were talking about. Perfect Vault Dweller Lucy, did everything asked of her and more with enthusiasm, to the point of annoyance, chosen for the Vault Exchange, never did anything wrong beyond pranks on their father and leaving the Vault to search for their lying father.

“Exactly.”

“Apparently the two of you also have curiosity as a trace in common.” Marigold chuckled beside him, hand tapping his back.

“Lucy was never actually curious. She was always the perfect Vault Dweller. And it was only her, not the Titus guy, that invaded the level?” He shook his head and crossed his arms, eyebrows frowning.

“No, she was alone when our security team apprehended her.”

The door they had banged into slid open, a doctor coming in, covered in protective gear and carrying medical supplies. Marigold’s shoulders slumped. Norm poked her in the side with his elbow, grinning.

“Go on.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” She sat at a stretcher and slumped, following the doctor’s instructions, and Norm looked back at Birdie.

She wasn’t telling anything about the level in itself, and he suspected it was related to the experiments Esther had written about; he could see that as not being something they advertised to new arrivals. It made sense that Lucy would cause problems if she discovered that… But how the hell had she discovered in the first place? Invading places was so not-Lucy…

“… I found a terminal by a woman called Esther Greenie.” Birdie straightened slightly, hands leaving her back. “She talked about the experiments that Vault-Tec did here. That’s what Lucy ended up discovering, right?”

Birdie watched him, then slowly nodded.

“It is. We still take care of some previous test subjects, trying to discover a way to undo the things done to them. Lucy invaded the level they’re kept, while we were honoring the dead of Shady Sands.”

That’s… He was the one using moments when everyone was distracted to nosy around. Lucy? Lucy was terrible at these, always just went with her gut.

“That’s… That’s really not like her. Do you know what made her do it?”

“I don’t know, but she thought we were the ones doing the experiments. Was convinced of it until we showed a holotape that proved it had been Vault-Tec scientists.” Birdie shook her head, collecting her hands at her front.

“This all is just... It’s not something Lucy would do.”

“I can understand your shock. We weren’t expecting it of her too, specially not as a Vault-Dweller. They did return our fusion core,” that sounded like Lucy “for which we are thankful, but…” Birdie stopped, looked to the side, lips in a line.  Thoughtful. “Actually… She told us there’s no experiment in Vault 33.” She looked back at him, face somber. “Is that really true, Norman?”

Norm’s eyebrows frowned, crossing his arms.

“… No. The people there just… Don’t know they’re rats in a lab. The Overseer does, and some others are into the secret, but… Lucy, everyone else… Don’t. I didn’t, not until just over a week ago.”

“Is that why you’re searching her?” He nodded at Birdie’s question.

“She’s my sister, out here under the impression that Vault-Tec are these God damned heroes. She needs to know.”

“… Can I ask the experiment?” Birdie frowned at him, chin slightly leaning down.

Norm looked to the side, sighed, shoulders slumping, and looked back. It made sense. He knew about the experiments of their Vault. Why wouldn’t they want to know about the ones from his?

“Selective breeding to try and get the ‘best Managers’ or whatever in this line to lead everyone into one day retaking the surface. Involves a lot ‘doing as expected without question’, or at least that’s how it ended for most of the Vault-Dwellers there.” For a moment he wondered if he should talk about Vault 31 and 32, but decided against it. It didn’t seem as if Lucy had gone into details about the Tri-Vault thing, or even the attack, after all. “As far as I know, they never did anything as troublesome as the hybridization experiments Esther wrote about.”

“But the knowledge still shaped and shook you.” He nodded, and Birdie did the same. “I’m sorry I don’t have more information about where your sister might be, Norman.”

He sighed, body leaning back.

“You confirmed that one week ago she was alive. That’s more than I had when I came in.” Norm forced a shrug, swallowing. So much could change in one week when in the surface. His own journey was proof of it.

Also, she had told that apparently his sister had gone off the rails because there was no other explanation for why she had invaded a damn restricted level, damn it. He had never even been able to convince her to play a prank on their father if it was to be done in the Overseer’s office – “No, at home all right, but at the office? Are you insane?” –, and they weren’t even prohibited from going inside it. That was how good of a Vault-Dweller Lucy was.

If Lucy had been told to not go into the level… She wouldn’t. End of subject. How much had she changed in the surface?

Norm hoped she was still the sister he knew and loved.

“I hope you do find her alive. Despite exiling her, we didn’t wish her harm.” Birdie smiled lightly, and he nodded. “I would like to ask about where you found the terminal. Esther was a dear friend to the Vault, even before I arrived, always managing to trade mechanicals items and supplies we needed.”

“What do you mean, arrived?”

“I’m from the surface, Norman, as many here. A survival from Shady Sands.”

He blinked and nodded. That should’ve been obvious, but he was still hung up on Lucy’s actions.

“I found it at a store turned house, it’s some hours of walking south-west. I have the coordinates if you want.”

“I’ll accept those.” Norm pulled them in his Pip-Boy, together with the new password to the terminal, turning it to show the screen as Birdie typed it all in her own Pip-Boy.

“Do you know what happened to her? The place was empty.”

Birdie smiled sadly.

“Esther was a pre-war Ghoul. She went feral, five years ago. We managed to take care of her in her final moments, as her mind devolved and forgot things. She was unable to tell us where we could find her things because of it.” That was… Bittersweet. At least Esther had been cared for.

“There’s a pre-war wedding ring in the desk at the chem-lab.”

“We will make sure to put it in her grave. Thank you.” Birdie’s hands lowered again, still smiling.

Norm looked over towards Marigold; the doctor was slowly feeling her left shoulder, the bag-belt by the stretcher.

“I think we will be going and be out of your hair as soon as they finish, then.”

“Fine by me, Norm-boy.” Marigold nodded at him, moving her hand and arm as the doctor ordered.

For all her previous whining, she was being very cooperative. Figures.

“I understand, but our policy is for anyone arriving from the surface to be in quarantine for some hours, just to avoid any contamination. Since you would needed to walk from here to the exterior door, we still need to enforce it.” Birdie looked at her Pip-Boy, frowning. “The sun will be down by then. Your sister was exiled, not you. As long as you don’t cause any trouble, the two of you are welcome to pass the night in the Vault.”

“You can make this type of decision without passing it through your Overseer?” Norm frowned at Birdie, and she smiled.

“It’s the Vault’s policy, Norman. I’m just enforcing it. I’ll come back at the end of the quarantine.” Birdie nodded and left.

Norm sighed as he turned towards Marigold. The doctor finished injecting something in her shoulder, then nodded at both of them, collected everything and left through the other door as Marigold pulled her shirt back up and fixed the knife-belt across her body.

“What he told you?” He pulled himself up the stretcher, sitting beside her, feet dangling away from the ground.

“That I probably had it dislocated for a time. It’s back in place, but he still injected some anti-inflammatory to make sure I won’t have any trouble.” She pressed her lips in a line, elbows at her knees. “Thanks for the insistence.”

“You’re welcome. And the rest?” He pressed against her side and Marigold pressed back.

“Healing fine. You can stop worrying so much, Norm-boy.”

“All right, all right…” He shook his head. “What do you make of it all?”

“Titus is a very Brotherhood of Steel name, as far as I know. Add in a Power-Armor…” Marigold shrugged, and Norm frowned.

“Ma June said the Bounty was a scientist from the Enclave. And that the Brotherhood was going after him too.” Marigold nodded, frowning back.

“There’s a big chunk of things we don’t know. What happened with the scientist and why the fuck was your sister travelling with someone from the Brotherhood?”

---------

Time passed slowly, and while at first they threw theories around about how Lucy and someone from the Brotherhood – a Knight, Marigold assumed, because of the Power-Armor – were travelling together and why the hell Lucy had invaded a restricted place, Marigold had ended standing by the window, bag-belt back in place, watching the green plants and garden one level down. Healthy, alive…

“Is your Vault like this?” she asked when the talk lulled.

Norm’s steps sounded, stopping beside her, her hand landing on the top of his back without a though, feeling him leaning against her.

At that point, it only seemed natural.

“No. We have a field to plant certain foods like potatoes and corn, but not like this. There, we have a projector that creates the illusion of a sun and that the field is bigger than it actually is.”

She nodded, grinning, leaning back against him.

“So not as pretty as here.”

He chuckled.

“Definitely not. I like more what they did here, with the plants twisting around the pillars.” In his reflection, Marigold saw how his head leaned towards her, eyes softening. “It’s less of an illusion. More… Truthful.”

“… Not easy to appreciate what you had in your Vault because of the lies you discovered, I imagine.”

He shook his head slowly, crossing his arms.

A whooshing sound, and they looked to see Birdie on the outside, door open, smiling.

“The quarantine is over, and dinner is being served.”

---------

They entered in a line behind other Vaulties, Norm in front of her and Birdie behind, a tray with a bowl to each one. They soon reached a counter where one older woman was serving the food.

“Here, a little more to you, young man, you have a lot to grow up.” She served Norm, and Marigold held in a snicker at how, even while he smiled politely, his eyes were pained – she bet he got a lot of that in his own Vault when growing up. “Oh my, aren’t you a big girl? Here, more, we must make sure you don’t lose those curves.” The woman winked at her, serving what should be double what Norm had received in the bowl, and Marigold grinned right back.

“Thanks, ma’am.”

She followed Norm with her tray in hands, still hearing the woman talking behind her, trying to not let all the plants and green around distract her.

“Oh, Birdie, here, a little more, always doing so much for us.”

They sat at one of the tables in the middle of the garden, the fragrant smell of green and earth and flowers surrounding them – so, so different from the smell of sand and dust she was used to. Norm sat facing her, slowly starting to eat, and Marigold forced herself to stop looking at all that green grass – it was so different and more alive than what was around Filly, nothing of the smell of sand and dust and tinge of radiation…

Marigold took a look at her tray; mostly of the food remembered somethings they had in the surface, but what really attracted her attention was the bowl: some type of pasta with red sauce. She raised it, breathing it in, and the smell was clearly mutfruit with something else. Stabbing the fork – shining, no weird bend nor nothing – into some of it, she ate a small portion, the thickness of mutfruit spreading alongside soft-chewy pieces that she didn’t recognize.

Tasty, but… Weird, there was none of the radiation aftertaste she had come to expect. In the surface, you could mask it with the right spices and preparation, but there was always some small note of it. Even if the food had no radiation whatsoever, the taste always clung to it, especially if you knew what to look for.

“That’s Odette. Don’t take her words personally. Whatever much you’re eating, she always thinks it’s not enough. Also, the Overseer pointed me two units you can use for the night.” Birdie said as she sat down at the same table.

“Ah, no need, Birdie. One is enough.” Norm interrupted her, and Marigold felt unknown tension melt from her shoulders.

Birdie looked at her, raising one eyebrow in search of confirmation.

“That’s righty. One unit, no need for big things.” Marigold nodded and shrugged; she didn’t want to get separated from him, and really, with how silent everything was, just voices and steps, sleep would be hard enough. At least with him close by she could focus on the sound of his breathing.

As she had already been doing, she realized as she started to truly dig into the food. Fuck, she was in deep, wasn’t she?

“Then that’s how it will be.” Birdie smiled.

“Will we meet the Overseer?” Norm asked as he slowly ate.

“He got held up in a foosball meeting, so probably just tomorrow as we see you off, those things can extend a long time.” What the fuck was foosball? “In between, he did ask me to reassure you, Norman, that despite what your sister did, you’re welcome, now and in the future.”

“Thank you?” Norm blinked at Birdie and nodded.

New tension spread alongside Marigold’s shoulders. ‘You’re welcome, now and in the future’. Fuck.

“Marigold?” Birdie’s voice called, and she slowly looked at the woman. Birdie had a small, gentle smile. “Please remember that you’re also welcome here.”

“Ah… Thanks, Birdie.”

Birdie nodded at her and focused on eating again. Something poked slightly her feet, and she turned at Norm. He gave her a smile and a nod, and Marigold found herself sighing.

Even if he ever decided for Vault 4… She wasn’t blocked from it. Fuck, by the look of things, she could decide for it too.

It was… Weird. Not something she had thought as possible. Swallowing, hoping the lump in her throat would go away, Marigold tried to focus on eating.

Before she managed to, she felt someone poking her slightly in the shoulder.

“Excuse me.” A woman and a man, grey hairs, old, tired, skin weathered and full of sun spots – so from the surface, without a doubt –, but smiling, hands strong and scarred and Vault-Suits bearing fresh shoe polish stains.

“Yes?”

“Do you, by any chances, know a woman called Guadalupe Bear?”

No way.

“That’s my Ma.” She smiled at the older couple, and they laughed, the woman pinching her cheeks painfully. It didn’t bother her.

“Oh my God! I told you, Bernie!” she slapped the man’s shoulder, and he shrugged good naturedly.

“You did, Tish.”

“You look exactly like her!”

“I get that a lot. From all my sisters, I’m the one that got her full looks.”

“Got her height too?” Bernie asked, and Marigold grinned, getting up. Both laughed and she sat down again.

“How is she? And Isaac? And… That other, the one they met in a bar brawl…”

“You must mean Dad Francesco.” Tish nodded fiercely. Oh, bar brawl? She had to pester Dad for the details… They always had said generally ‘oh we met in Shady Sands’. “All alive and kicking, thank you.”

“How did you meet Guadalupe?” Norm asked from the other side, and Bernie and Tish smiled at him.

“It was in Shady Sands. Since she was a teenager. Guadalupe would bring leather and meat to trade, drink a little with us if it was too late to travel back… She was a good friend. And you, young man, is that coat a Bear work?”

“It’s Norman. And I think so? I helped with a problem the Bears had, and Guadalupe gave it to me in exchange.” Norm shrugged, smiling at them.

“Oh. Can I, Norman?” Tish approached Norm, hands extended towards the sleeve of the leather coat, and he nodded. She expertly touched the leather, fingers and nail sliding, analyzing the texture, nodding, smile growing. “Radstag, Guadalupe’s work, no doubt. How I missed the leather tanned by the Bears… One of the best. Thank you, Norman.” Tish tapped his wrist and retreated.

“You’re welcome, Tish.” He nodded at her, eating another mouthful.

“So your family produces leather?” Birdie called at Marigold from the other side of the table, smiling.

“Yeah. Not exclusively, our main activity is hunting, but we don’t let anything go to waste.”

“One of the best, Birdie, even the molerat leather.” Bernie nodded besides Tish, and Birdie nodded slightly. “We’re happy to know that Guadalupe is well. Which of her kids are you?”

“Marigold. Middle one.” They nodded back, grinning.

“Oh, we remember your pregnancy. She cursed a lot during it because of her feet. Would throw things at Isaac, saying he was never touching her again. He just laughed and came back to massage her feet every damn time.”

Marigold snorted an aborted laugh, getting Norm’s smile in her peripherals. That her parents had never told her and she could barely wait to tell her siblings so they could tease Ma and Pa – and knowing Dad, he definitely would help. He never lost a chance to tease his partners.

Also, while Regina was Francesco’s by blood – she was a copy of him, no way to doubt –, Marigold had heard a lot growing up to know that that threat had never been enforced.

“Will you stay here, sweetie?”

“Ah, no, we’re leaving tomorrow morning. He’s looking for his sister, and I’m checking in on my sister, Catarina.”

“Guadalupe brought Catarina once! So spirited, that one!” Tish clapped her hands, smiling. “So we’ll see the both of you out tomorrow! Please call us, Birdie! Until then!”

The couple nodded their goodbyes to all of them and left, still smiling, and Marigold sighed, a small smile in place.

---------

The rest of the dinner had been uneventful – besides the weird mutations he occasionally noticed on some inhabitants, but the memory of the experiments helped him not to stare –, and soon Birdie was guiding them through the corridors, explaining the place and where their unit was. Norm heard with only half an ear, still thinking about the brief meeting with Bernie and Tish, Wastelanders living in a Vault, old friends of Guadalupe.

The surface had seemed so impossible big, but now… It seemed smaller. More manageable.

If Marigold could accidentally find old friends of her mother, when they had lived in a place that had been bombed… Then finding Lucy wasn’t that impossible anymore. Finding her alive was easier to hope for.

“Here. Unit 430. I’ll connect it to your Pip-Boy so you will have privacy while here.” He focused back into Birdie, offering his Pip-Boy so she could type in it. “Done. Please, have a good night.” Birdie smiled, nodded at them and left.

Marigold stopped beside him, and he noticed how she eyed the door, the mailbox beside it, the glass windows allowing them to see inside. Focused.

“Ready for a night in a Vault, Marigold?” Norm smiled up at her, Pip-Boy held up in front of him.

She sighed, grinned, and put her hand at the top of his back, her warmth welcome.

“No, but let’s go.” He nodded, smile still up, and sent the order for the door to open.

---------

He locked the door behind them, glad for it – after all those days in the surface where they had to make do with half broken doors and so on, with the exception of Esther’s shelter, he was never taking a lockable door for granted again.

It was a standard unit, no walls separating the environments. Double bed, living room area with sofa, armchair, television and some more, a complete kitchen, dinner table in the middle of it all, a door that probably led to the bathroom… Small, but everything that someone needed in a Vault.

Someone had left a basket full of different pre-war foods above the dinner table, a note propped up on it saying “welcome, from Birdie and friends”. It included Sugar Bombs and Fancy Lads Snack Cakes, and he could just remember the poisoned ones in his sidebag.

Yeah, sorry, Birdie, not touching those.

There were also two fluff bathrobes carefully folded above the bed. Norm couldn’t help but wonder if they had found one that fit Marigold.

After how they had made do with the bare minimum the last… Week and some days?, it almost seemed too much.

Marigold stepped away from him, letting her backpack and bag-belt at a corner of the sofa.

“Did you notice?” she asked, carefully unloading her hunting rifle and hiding it between the mattress and the bed-frame, opposite the door.

“What?” He followed her example, sidebag and bag at the sofa, leather coat dangling at the coat rack by the door. He kept the Pip-Boy, if only because it seemed weird to be without it in a Vault.

“We passed by a window looking into a storage room. There was a Power-Armor inside, Brotherhood of Steel symbol at the chest.” She tapped the middle of her chest in demonstration. “It also had some claw marks, definitely yao guai, but that’s not the point. Lucy without a doubt was travelling with a Brotherhood Knight.”

“Maybe a deserter?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the dinner table, frowning.

Marigold shrugged and started fliting around the unit, eyes and hands curious.

“It’s possible, true, but a Knight? They’re top of the ladder, can’t think of why one would desert. And it still doesn’t answer where the fuck the scientist is.” She picked up a decorative piece from a side table, turning it this and that way, face scrunching up then looking up at him. “What the fuck is this supposed to be?”

Norm grinned and shrugged.

“I have no idea.” She looked again at the thing and put it back in place. “And yes, there’s the scientist.” He frowned. “Maybe Lucy lost the scientist and teamed up with the Knight so they could find him?”

Marigold stopped what she was doing, a sculpted paper weight in hands, and blinked at him.

“That… Actually makes sense. Birdie said that Titus had stolen their fusion core, right?”

“And he left without his Power-Armor after returning it.” He blinked, straightening. “He arrived without the armor. He had no way of moving it without a power source. The Vault-Dwellers must have brought it at first.”

Marigold blinked, putting the paper weight down and crossing her arms.

“Most Knights are totally dependent on their Power-Armor. And, fuck, as far as I know, Knights always go on missions with a Squire carrying their supplies. Food, meds, everything.”

“He arrived only with Lucy. And they ended here because they were searching medicine, Birdie was clear about it.” Marigold nodded. “Whatever happened with him, he was left unable to use his armor, without supplies, and without a helper.”

“And Lucy clearly lost the scientist.” Marigold frowned. “Would it be a Lucy-thing to make a deal for mutual help so they would find the scientist together?”

Norm tapped a finger against his arm, eyebrows frowned as his eyes looked across the space.

“… I can see her doing so with people she knows. With a total stranger, it seems a little harder, but… Not impossible, if she really needed it.”

“So we have a… Working theory.” She grinned at him and started nosying around again.

“That we do. Still doesn’t answer why, for God’s sake, she invaded a restricted level and hurt someone there in a Vault.”

“Maybe the Knight put her up to it and stayed back?”

“Why would that Titus guy do it?”

Marigold shrugged, frowning at a blender.

“Maybe he thought it meant some important technology for the Brotherhood?”

“He stole their fusion core easily, from what we heard. Besides, no, that doesn’t fit Lucy. If she wasn’t the one coming up with illegal ideas, she wasn’t doing it.”

She blinked at him, blender back into the kitchen counter.

“Lucy had a lot of those, then?”

Norm stopped and chuckled.

“No. Leaving the Vault was the only one I knew of.”

“Well, that’s a bummer. I’m all out of ideas then.” Marigold opened a kitchen drawer, messing with the cutleries inside.

“Yeah, me too…” Norm sighed and resigned himself to watch Marigold investigating the unit and its items. It seemed this was the type of thing he would need to ask Lucy why the hell she had done it.

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“Fuck, Norm-boy, all this reminds me of Ed’s room.” She chuckled as she put a weird decorative vase down, after she had gone over everything in the kitchen and living room area.

“How so?”

“A bunch of shiny things that I have no idea why they even exist.” She shrugged and grinned.

It made him laugh, which was good after all the serious thoughts and trying to understand and connect all the information Birdie had given him.

Yeah, a distraction sounded good-

“Oh God, this smells good.” Marigold moaned, the sound causing a violent spark of arousal through him. He snapped his head in time to see her with her nose sunk into one of the bathrobes.

“Hm… What?”

“It’s just… Some flowers, I don’t know the name. Fuck. It’s the best thing I smelled in my life.” She talked all that without taking the bathrobe from her face, voice muffled.

He chuckled, trying to ignore the arousal simmering inside him, and strode towards her. Actually embarrassing how, apparently, it wasn’t needed much to distract his brain if Marigold was involved.

“Let me see.” He pulled a side of it, the flowery and fragrant smell reaching him, easily recognizable. “It’s lavender.”

“Let me tell you, Norm-boy.” She finally lowered the bathrobe from her face, caressing it softly, her smile visible. “You’re still fresh from the Vault so you probably didn’t notice it yet, but in the surface, no matter what we do, there’s always the smell of dust and sand. It clings to everything.” She put the bathrobe back in the bed. “That’s definitely not a problem the Vault has.”

“Is it weird, always smelling dust and sand?”

“You get used to it.” She shrugged, looking around. “It’s when it’s missing that you really notice it’s always there. What’s this door?” she strode towards said door, in front of the double bed. It opened soundlessly at her approach, before he could answer. “Holy shit.”

Norm approached, stopping beside her and looking inside the bathroom; small, simple, the basics of a sink, toilet, shower, and standard hygiene products, curtains separating the shower area. A small sigh left him – an actual shower with hot water… God, that sounded good.

“Fuck. Functioning showers are rare in the surface. Dad and Pa talked about putting one some years ago, but they worried it would deplete our underground water reserves faster, with a family so big.”

“How do you do?”

“Bucket, washing cloth and homemade soap, usually made with mutfruit or broc flowers.” He looked at her face, and her eyes were still fixed in the shower. “There’s an inn in Filly that has one, you can use by paying a per minute fee. It can racket up quite a small fortune. Never had enough caps for it.”

Marigold bit her lip, and Norm swallowed, the memory of the kisses like a vengeance. Maybe it was time he started kissing her again…

“That’s not something you have to worry about here.” Norm poked her with his elbow, more arousal dripping through him at just the thought of kissing her.

She smiled at him, letting go of her lip. He wasn’t sure if he was thankful or disappointed.

“Yeah… I just…” she looked again at the shower. “I mean, I don’t even know if it’s worth it. I don’t have anything clean to use after, it seems a waste of water.” She shrugged.

Norm frowned. Sure, they had to be mindful of water, but not taking a single shower because of her clothes… Damn it. He wanted her to enjoy it. It wasn’t as if they would get another chance after they left.

He looked towards the kitchen area, just to make sure he wasn’t misremembering, and no he wasn’t, thank God.

“There’s a washing machine and dryer. It will take some time, but your clothes will be clean in time for tomorrow morning.”

---------

Damn. A machine to wash and dry their clothes… Vaulties had all the easy ways of living.

“And if you’re still worried about wasting water…” Norm kept talking, and she deviated her eyes from the shower to him. He was looking up at her, his neck slowly flushing red above the Vault-Suit. “We can always share the shower.”

He whispered, his voice almost disappearing at the end. Oh, he was going down that path?

Marigold grinned, slowly, her eyes purposefully going down his body and back, the sight of his naked arms and shoulders still fresh in her mind, stopping at his eyes.

“My dearest, if we do that, I’m not sure I can keep my hands away from you.” Just the thought of getting to touch him without restrictions had arousal thrumming inside her, fast and strong, and she shifted lightly.

“And if I don’t want you to keep your hands away?” He said, voice seeming to tremble. A hand twisted in the tip of her braid, without pulling.

Marigold chuckled, even while warmth spread through her belly and thighs.

“Then we would still be wasting water because I’ll take my time.” She licked her lip and ended with a bite. “But if you really want my hands on you, my dearest, we can always use the bed for that.” Besides, it would mean that neither of them had to worry about remaining standing.

If she had her way, he would have trouble doing so by the end.

“Well… We do have the time tonight, don’t you agree, Beautiful?”

Her breath hitched, affection and warmth at her chest, even while she wholehearted agreed and thanked: time, fucking precious time, alongside a safe place for it.

Marigold started leaning down, Norm lightly pulling at her braid… There was movement in her peripherals, and oh fuck, glass windows and open curtains, she had forgot that.

---------

Norm leaned up, getting on his toes… And Marigold held his chin, keeping him from her lips, kissing instead his cheek, gently.

“Then let’s just make sure to close the curtains, or we’ll be giving a show.” She whispered against his ear, and he snapped his head towards the windows.

A couple of Vault-Dwellers, clearly looking inside their unit, jumped on the corridor and scampered off.

He sighed, heat rising to his cheeks, and Marigold chuckled beside him, straightening.

“I’m sorry for that…” Norm strode towards the right window; he wasn’t even mad at the Vault-Dwellers; really, what people usually had to do in a Vault? Gossip about each other’s lives.

“Don’t sweat it, Norm-boy. There’s open windows and people are curious.” He heard her moving as he finished with the curtains and blinds on the right window and went to the left one.

“Still. They were clearly looking inside, not even pretending not to. That’s rude-” he finished and turned, whatever other words he had been thinking escaping his mind.

Marigold was by the sofa, boots and socks leaning against the furniture, naked feet against the carpet, bracers and gloves on the seat, cape and knives-belt at the backrest, the first buttons of her shirt unmade.

Not much skin showing… But she had her hands open like if gifting herself, that extra-trouble grin as she bit her lip, eyes heated on him.

“Tell me, my dearest, do you prefer to help or to receive a show?”