Chapter Text
Tess sat on the tabletop, swinging her legs like a little kid as she watched Nick rummage through her cooler, in her home in Diamond City. Her dark skin, nearly as dark as a person could get, stood out sharply against the neon colored painting behind her. Her hair she’d had braided back into cornrows, to keep it out of her face when she was scavving. She had sprung for the new style yesterday, as a premature gift for herself. It was Christmas eve tonight.
“You know,” She said as she watched him pull out a large brahmin roast and start to season it, “I really thought I would have Shaun back by now. I mean… it’s Christmas.” She sighed. It had only been a couple months since she’d gotten out of the vault, but she’d just assumed in the back of her mind that her first Christmas without Nate, at least she would have her son.
Nick nodded in understanding. “I think all of us wanted to think that for you, but the Commonwealth isn’t always that generous.” He opened the door of her oven, and slid the roast in to cook. He didn’t bother to use pot holders. No need when he was made of metal and heat retardant plastic. It would take a few hours, but that was ok. Tess slid off of the table where she was sitting, and walked over to him, “You don’t have to cook for me, you know.” She said, setting one hand on her hip. Yes, she was changing the subject, but the truth was that she was upset and she just wanted to hide it. She didn’t want to think about the fact that the crib she’d built and gotten ready for Shaun was empty, or about the fact that it was just her and Nick here on Christmas eve with no other friends or family. Her friends were littered around the Commonwealth, helping out with various settlements. Piper was spending Christmas with Nat, and even Ellie was off with her family. It was just them.
“I know,” He said,setting a wind up timer on the stove for an hour. “But I don’t mind doing it. I don’t know, maybe it helps me feel just a little more human.” He said. “Nick, the old Nick, always made Christmas dinner before the war.”
Tess nodded, and then let it go at that, moving instead to her pantry to get a bottle of wine to open for the two of them. She privately wondered how much Nick really considered himself different from who he’d been before the war, because Tess really thought of them as the same man. “Well if you’re going to make the dinner, I’ll pour us the wine,” She said with a laugh. She produce a knife that she kept on her for basic utility, and stabbed the cork, getting it out.
“Hey if you see a corkscrew in the the ruins, grab it for me,” She added with a grunt. It was a moment of struggling before the cork popped out.
“Will do,” Nick promised as he moved to sit on her couch and admire the effort Tess had put in to the decor. She had a christmas tree in the corner of her living area, and she had cobbled together some crude gifts to put underneath them. Some of them were wrapped up in cloth or old cigar boxes, but others weren’t. She had done her best to make it feel like christmas, even if it was just the two of them, and she’d done a good job. She had been staying in town the last couple days rather than scavenging, just doing shopping and decorating her home. She’d finished getting everything ready for Shaun, too. She had a crib, had collected toys, even had some old bottles she had washed and sterilized, all waiting for him. He pitied her, but he didn’t say so. She wouldn’t appreciate it, he knew that much.
“Here you go,” She said, handing him a glass of wine with her sly smile. She really was a beautiful woman, with plump lips and and almond shaped eyes set against dark skin that just drew in the eye. She had some scars, sure, but they all did. He reached out and took the wine glass from her, his was only filled a little bit, but he didn’t mind. He couldn’t really appreciate much more than the most basic flavors, and it didn’t get him drunk, but he liked that she was sharing with him all the same, and she knew that. Tess raised her glass up to clink against his. “To friends,” She said. “To friends.” He agreed, taking a sip.
-
The night wore on as they shared some stories and played a round of Blast Radius together. Nick won. She was always a hoot to be around, with smart ass remarks and a mouth that would suit a sailor far more than a devoted mother. It only got worse as she drank more too. Not for the first time, Nick was getting worried about her. Drinking was one of the more benign habits to have in the wasteland, and he sure as hell didn’t blame her after what she had been through, but she was a friend and he didn’t want to see her make herself sick.
She finished that first bottle, and then opened a second. At the bottom of that second bottle, she had crossed through all the stages of drunkenness. Her intoxicated elation was far behind her, they had laughed like idiots, waxed poetic about the world, and now she was just curled up next to him on the couch sniffling about how alone she felt. “I know he’s probably dead by now,” She was saying “You know what they say, it’s the first 24 hours in a kidnapping that are the most important. After that… the person is probably dead,” She leaned on Nick’s shoulder, drinking right from the bottle now and taking a deep swig. It was almost empty. “But I just have to find out. I have to know what happened even if it kills me.”
“Yeah…” he said, patting her shoulder with his more humanlike hand. “I hear ya,” He said. “I would have to know, too. I don’t think I could move on without it. Closure.”
She nodded and sighed. “I’m sorry,” She said, drying her eyes on her sleeve. “I don’t usually let people see me like this.” She tried to pull herself together, to look strong again.
“Don’t I know it,” Nick said, with a little bit of amazement in his voice. Tess wasn’t a woman who let people see her feeling weak. No one but him, that was. He’d be lying if he wasn’t a little bit in awe of that. “Hell, not even the bombs could shake you. But I think it’s probably good for you to stop and let yourself grieve. Consider me flattered that you’re willing to do it in front of me.” He gave her a reassuring, small smile.
Deep brown eyes met his, and small hands slid up his chest, “I’m glad you’re here, actually,” She said. “I just… I don’t want to be alone, Nick.” Her breath smelled strongly of alcohol. He could calculate her blood alcohol level easily just from that if he wanted to, but he didn’t bother. Nick already knew she’d had a lot. Too much to be putting the moves on him, that was for sure. He felt those hands gather up fistfulls of his shirt, and he looked down and realized that his friend was starting to spill over from her spot on the couch, into his lap.
“I don’t think I follow you, doll.” He lied. He followed her perfectly. Too well, in fact. Nick knew what she wanted and he couldn’t give it to her, especially not when she was drunk.
Tess rolled her eyes for just a moment. “Come on,” She said. “Tonight, just this once. What do you say?” She asked. “I just… I miss that human comfort, and I want someone I trust.” She began to untuck his shirt from his trousers, trying to get it loose enough for her to slide her hands up underneath it. “What’s a little romp, between friends?” Her voice was low, and the sound it seemed to caress his body more than her hands were.
His hands caught hers and held them in place before she could try to crawl under his clothes. The metal digits of his broken hand dug into her skin a little bit, but he didn’t mean to. “You’re drunk.” He accused flatly. “For one thing, I’m not even human.” She let him stop her hands and met his glowing eyes again with a small frown. “You’re human enough for me,” She said firmly. It was true, too, but she supposed she didn’t really expect him to believe it. Not when she was wasted and sad and lonely, and he had his own issues with the subject
“Tess. I think you should go lie down,” he said firmly. “I can’t even do what you want me to do,” he told her. Like the Gen2 synths, he lacked the reproductive equipment of a human. He didn’t really mind. Even old Nick before the war had always been pretty ambivalent about sex. He just preferred the emotional closeness to actual physical fulfillment, so it wasn’t a big deal to him. He’d always thought he was a strange man, until he’d found a woman who loved him just as he was, asexuality and all. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t.” He went on. “You’ve had two bottles of wine all to yourself.” It wasn’t like there hadn’t been sparks between them, even he would admit that, but she was in no state of mind to actually know if this was what she wanted. And what with him not being able to get drunk at all, it would just feel too much like he was taking advantage. Even with her laying in his lap and practically begging him.
She frowned, but gathered up her dignity. “Fine,” She said, pulling away rather suddenly. She sounded cold, but he could see the tears she was fighting off as she scurried from his presence. He reached over and picked up a lighter and a cigarette from her coffee table, saying nothing more. She disappeared from view, climbing up the ladder to where her bed was, up in the loft. What a way to spend a christmas night, he griped to himself. Someday, when she was sober and had a chance for all this to blow over, he might ask her how serious she was. He liked her, but… it seemed like his was just a warm body to soothe a lonely night.
His keen ears picked up the sound of her crying quietly into her pillow, and he cursed to himself under his breath. He didn’t want to hurt her. Nick sucked on his cigarette, trying to pretend he couldn’t hear it. It broke his heart a little bit.
Maybe someday, it could be different.