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Nora's been crouched over her power armor for the majority of the day, tinkering away in a corner of the Castle. Most of the Minutemen didn't bother her for more than a friendly greeting or a couple of minutes of small talk. Good for them, Nora thought; bitter that since she installed the newest modification the right leg was stuck. Nothing seemed to help she tried so far, her only option left was to disassemble the whole. That or asking for help — yeah, like that would ever happen. Instead, she continued relentlessly, tightening or loosening bolts, rebooting the system; but mostly just swearing under her breath — not that it was of any use except for her mental state.
"Feeling creative today?" She puffed up with an inhale of air, focusing on an even exhale instead of Danse; he was probably the last person she wanted to see. In the beginning Danse helped installing mods if there was no time or opportunity to head back to Ingram; but she felt confident this task no longer was beyond her expertise — maybe if she'd hung out with Nate when he was waist deep in their car.
"Yes. New shipment arrived today." She had to keep her replies short or she'd reveal her frustration; but would that be so bad? Just ask him for help, you've done that before. And he has a soft spot for you, he wouldn't make fun of you. Nora hushed her thoughts; even if it was true she was hellbent on fixing it on her own — even if it keeps her up late into the night. She busied herself with the sixth or seventh system reboot of the day, hoping it was enough of a sign that she didn't wish for company.
"If you need help, I'll be around." Like I would, she mumbled, glancing after his disappearing form; would it been really that hard to admit defeat? Yes, and a thousand times yes; for some reason, and contrary to all the clear signs, she was still convinced that Danse was annoyed by her and the last thing she wanted was to seem incompetent. If only Sturges was around, he'd probably figure the reason in no time.
She only held a little break, making a sandwich disappear within seconds then was back by her armor; yeah, it wouldn't fix itself. She's been at it for another hour or two and somehow it all seemed worse. A wrench bounced across the courtyard which Nora hurled away in agony. Typical, she thought, as she watched it skid to a halt against a boot; who else than Danse's.
"Still working on it?" Oh God, she never felt a greater urge to slap someone, especially one of her superiors -no, no longer that, she reminded herself- than now. There was a smug grin on his annoyingly handsome face, like he knew exactly how long she actually worked and how long she struggled.
"No. I'm wondering what's the best way to strip this piece of junk into atoms." She already considered kicking the armor as a way of stress relief but she was wiser; that would only lead to broken toes and limping to the medical wing for a stim. So she endured with a mutter of expletives before Danse showed up again. "So, is that offer of help still standing? I could use someone giving it a quick look."
Probably a whole rebuild, but she wasn't going to sink that low; and he'd figure it out quick enough. He only replied with a nod, standing beside her; oh, he was close, too close for Nora to focus on what he explained about connections and electronics. His hair looks so soft. I wonder what he'd do if I ran my fingers through it. She's been knocked from it as Danse's shoulder bumped her; just in time for her to hear the final evaluation — she forgot to reconnect a wire. Maybe next time Danse works on a power armor she should pay attention to that and not the way his brows creased or his eyes hardened in concentration.