Chapter Text
Stupid. Completely. Extremely. Almost hopeless.
And yet the Courier held on to that «almost».
Or to the possibility that Joshua might not understand her or consider this just a joke. The Courier tries not to think about Joshua not being in Zion… for whatever reason. He must meet her. He promised.
Entering the Angel cave, she checks the date on her Pip-Boy – maybe, for the tenth time in the last hour. Two hundred years later, fourteenth of February is still fourteenth of February, even if for the majority of people this day has become meaningless, indistinguishable from the others. The Courier takes a bundle out of her backpack, carefully presses it with her fingers to see if the contents are still intact. She isn’t sure, but it’s too late to back down now.
When she sees a familiar figure inspecting a pile of guns, something inside her turns upside down – in a good way.
“Hello.” Joshua rises from the table. It’s hard to see his face from the distance, as it is still covered in bandages, but the Courier feels the warmth in his voice. “Welcome back.” Now she is almost sure that he is smiling.
The Courier wants to rush forward, but she only wordlessly unwraps the bundle in her hands, untying the knots, fabric rustling. A goldish Roman brooch – fibula, as Arcade called it, a trinket that cost the lives of too many. And an experimental remedy for burns, wrested from Big Mountain scientists with the help of long speeches.
The Courier holds out the gifts, her hands shaking almost the same as they did before that one last battle. Now is her last chance not to say anything stupid, not to make their already good friendship awkward.
She takes a deep breath, pulls a crooked smile and decides to go all in.
“Happy Saint Valentine’s Day?..”