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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
...
They walked not as leaders, or people with authority. But as a couple, just as Sico and Nora. On their own date, in the place they had built.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
They just stood there on the path outside their home, hands linked, the door closed behind them, the quiet hum of Sanctuary carrying on around them.
It felt different.
Lighter.
No small footsteps racing ahead of them.
No reports waiting on a desk.
No one expecting a decision in the next five minutes.
Just the two of them.
Nora glanced down at their hands and then back up at him, a soft, almost shy smile tugging at her lips.
"Well," she said again, this time with a playful lift to her brow, "where are you taking me, Mr. President?"
Sico made a show of thinking, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
"Somewhere very exclusive," he said in a low voice. "Only the most important woman in the Commonwealth gets access."
She rolled her eyes gently, but her smile widened.
"Oh? That sounds serious."
"It is," he replied gravely. "I was thinking… the long way around."
She blinked once, then laughed.
"The long way?"
"Through the older side of the neighborhood," he clarified. "Past the rebuilt houses. I haven't walked that stretch without a purpose in months."
Nora nodded slowly.
"I haven't either."
And so they started walking.
Not toward a specific destination.
Not toward a meeting.
Just forward.
Side by side.
The path curved past rows of houses that had once been broken shells and were now something close to homes again. Walls patched carefully. Roofs reinforced. Little touches of individuality added by the families who lived inside from painted signs, wind chimes made from scrap metal, curtains sewn from salvaged cloth.
A couple sat on a porch repairing a fishing net. They looked up as Sico and Nora passed.
"Afternoon," the man said easily.
"Afternoon," Nora replied.
No salute.
No stiff posture.
Just neighbor to neighbor.
Sico felt something warm settle in his chest.
He leaned a little closer to Nora.
"I like that," he murmured.
"What?"
"That they don't stand at attention anymore."
She followed his gaze.
"They trust you," she said quietly. "They trust us."
They kept walking.
A brahmin ambled lazily along the side of the road, guided by a teenage boy who was trying and failing to look sternly in charge of it. The animal let out a low, unimpressed sound.
Nora laughed under her breath.
"I remember the first brahmin we tried to bring in," she said.
Sico groaned softly.
"It nearly trampled the generator."
"And you tried to calm it down."
"I did calm it down."
"You got dragged halfway across the yard."
He sighed.
"It was a strategic repositioning."
She nudged him gently with her shoulder.
"You had hay in your hair for a week."
He grinned.
"You picked it out."
There it was again.
That quiet shift.
From titles.
From authority.
Back to something simple.
They walked until the houses thinned slightly and the path widened toward the edge of Sanctuary where the old playground had been partially restored. The swings had new chains. The slide had been patched and polished smooth.
It wasn't perfect.
But it worked.
Sico slowed, looking at it thoughtfully.
"You ever use these?" he asked.
Nora followed his gaze.
"Not in a long time."
He stepped toward one of the swings and pushed it lightly with his hand. It creaked in that familiar way old metal does when it's been given new life.
"Go on," he said.
She looked at him.
"Don't you dare."
"I'm serious."
"I am not getting on that swing."
"You absolutely are."
She laughed, shaking her head.
"Sico—"
But he had already stepped closer, his grin widening just slightly.
"For one day," he said softly. "No responsibilities. No dignity."
She narrowed her eyes playfully.
"That sounds dangerous."
"Only a little."
There was a pause.
Then, with a sigh that was far more theatrical than genuine resistance, Nora stepped forward and sat down on the swing.
"Happy?" she asked.
"Very."
He stepped behind her and gave a gentle push.
Nothing wild.
Nothing dramatic.
Just enough that she started to sway back and forth, slow and easy.
The breeze caught her hair as she moved.
She let out a quiet, surprised laugh.
"I haven't done this in years," she admitted.
"You're smiling," he pointed out.
"That doesn't mean anything."
He pushed again, a little higher this time.
"It means everything."
For a few minutes, they let themselves be ridiculous.
Laughing softly.
Teasing.
Letting the movement carry her just enough to feel that small, forgotten thrill of motion.
Eventually, she slowed herself with her boots against the ground and stood, shaking her head as she stepped away.
"You're impossible."
"You love that about me."
She didn't deny it.
Instead, she reached up and adjusted his collar slightly.
"Your turn."
He blinked.
"Absolutely not."
"Oh, no," she said sweetly. "You insisted."
And so he found himself sitting on the swing instead, muttering something about executive authority while she stood behind him.
She didn't push him gently.
She pushed him properly.
He let out a startled laugh as he swung forward.
"Careful!"
"Strategic repositioning," she echoed smugly.
He laughed again.
It echoed across the open space, free and unguarded.
And for a moment, he didn't feel like a president.
He felt like a man in love, on a swing set, on a date.
In the wasteland.
Eventually, they wandered back toward the river again, but this time they didn't sit in the same quiet spot as before. Instead, they followed the bank a little further, where wildflowers had started to grow in small clusters near the water.
Nora knelt to touch one gently.
"I didn't even notice these before," she said.
"You were probably busy reorganizing the agricultural reports."
She shot him a look.
"I can enjoy flowers and reports."
"I'm sure you can."
He crouched beside her, their shoulders brushing.
The river moved steadily beside them, sunlight dancing across its surface.
"You ever think about what this would've looked like if we hadn't… done all this?" he asked quietly.
She considered that.
"I try not to," she admitted. "Because it would've looked like fear."
He nodded slowly.
"And now?"
She looked around.
At the houses.
The crops.
The repaired bridge in the distance.
"It looks like choice," she said.
That stayed with him.
They didn't rush the afternoon.
They found a small food stand near the edge of the market where someone was grilling fresh meat over an open flame. The smell alone made Nora close her eyes briefly.
"Don't tell me you're hungry," Sico teased.
"I'm always hungry," she replied.
They bought two skewers and shared them, sitting on the edge of a low wooden platform while their boots brushed against each other lightly.
He wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth with his thumb without thinking.
She stilled for just a second at the tenderness of it.
Then leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.
"Thank you."
It wasn't grand.
It wasn't dramatic.
But it felt like something sacred.
They talked about small things.
Not policy.
Not strategy.
Just memories.
The first time they disagreed about something serious.
The first time they realized the other wasn't leaving.
The first night they stayed up too late talking about what the Commonwealth could become.
At some point, Nora rested her head briefly against his shoulder again.
"You know," she said softly, "this is what people mean when they say normal."
He nodded.
"Messy. Loud. Occasionally ridiculous."
"Sometimes on a swing set."
"Especially on a swing set."
She smiled against him.
They stayed out until the sun began its slow descent, turning the sky into soft shades of orange and gold.
Sanctuary shifted again as evening approached from lamps being lit, voices lowering, the scent of dinner drifting through the air.
Sico looked at her.
"We should head back soon."
She nodded.
"Yeah."
But neither of them moved immediately.
Instead, she slipped her fingers through his again.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For remembering that we're allowed to be this."
He squeezed her hand gently.
"Always."
They walked back home at an unhurried pace.
Still close.
Still easy.
And when they reached the door, they could already hear faint metallic clinks and Shaun's excited voice explaining something loudly to Codsworth.
Nora laughed softly.
"Sounds like they built something."
"Let's hope it's stable."
She glanced up at him one more time before they stepped inside.
The door creaked softly as Sico pushed it open.
They were both still half-smiling, still wrapped in that quiet glow of the afternoon frpm the swing set laughter, the river breeze, the shared skewer and soft conversations.
And then they stepped into the living room.
Nora stopped mid-step.
Completely.
The words she had been about to say died on her lips.
The living room ad their familiar, lived-in space with its worn couch and low wooden table and shelves lined with salvaged books had been transformed.
Not dramatically.
Not extravagantly.
But intentionally.
Soft candlelight flickered from every safe surface. Small jars had been repurposed into holders, wax pooling gently at their bases. A clean cloth which one Nora recognized as something she'd once stored away for special occasions was spread neatly across the table.
Two plates.
Two glasses.
A modest arrangement of wildflowers in the center, gathered carefully and tied together with a strip of cloth.
Even the chairs had been repositioned so they faced each other instead of the usual practical angle toward the fireplace.
For a second, Nora just stared.
The room felt warmer.
Quieter.
Almost sacred.
Behind her, Sico closed the door softly.
She turned to him slowly.
"You—" she started, then stopped.
He was already grinning.
Not smug.
Not boastful.
Just… pleased.
Cool in the way he sometimes was when he'd managed to surprise her.
"Welcome home," he said lightly.
Her eyes moved back to the candles.
Then to the table.
Then back to him.
"You did this?" she asked softly.
Before he could answer, a familiar mechanical whir drifted from the kitchen.
Codsworth floated into view, polished to a shine.
"Ah! Madam!" he exclaimed with clear satisfaction. "I do hope you find the ambiance agreeable!"
And right behind him.
Shaun.
Beaming.
"Do you like it?" he blurted out before Nora could fully process the scene.
Her breath caught slightly.
She looked at Shaun.
Then at Codsworth.
Then back at Sico.
He lifted a hand casually.
"Thank you," he said warmly, nodding toward Shaun and Codsworth. "I couldn't have done it without you two."
Shaun puffed up with pride instantly.
"I helped pick the flowers," he declared. "And I didn't spill anything."
Codsworth hovered a little taller.
"Master Shaun was most diligent, sir."
Nora blinked rapidly once.
Her chest tightened that not from shock alone.
From emotion.
"You planned this?" she asked Sico again, her voice softer now.
He stepped a little closer.
"I might have thought ahead," he admitted.
She shook her head slightly, still taking it in.
"But… when?"
"This morning," he said. "Before we left."
Her eyes widened.
"You woke up early."
"Just a little."
Shaun bounced lightly on his heels.
"Uncle Sico told me it was a secret."
Nora looked down at him.
"A secret?"
He nodded enthusiastically.
"Because it's a date."
The word landed gently in the candlelit room.
Date.
Not strategy session.
Not meeting.
Not celebration for political reasons.
A date.
Nora let out a small, breathless laugh.
She looked back at Sico, and there was something different in her expression now.
Something softer.
More vulnerable.
"You didn't have to do all this," she said quietly.
He shrugged slightly, though his gaze never left hers.
"I wanted to."
There wasn't any grand speech attached to it.
No elaborate justification.
Just that.
I wanted to.
Codsworth cleared his mechanical throat delicately.
"If I may suggest, sir and madam, the meal will be at optimal temperature for approximately fourteen minutes."
Shaun leaned closer to Nora and whispered loudly, "He's been timing it."
Nora laughed softly despite herself.
Sico crouched down in front of Shaun, resting a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Alright," he said. "You did your part perfectly."
Shaun looked between them.
"Can I stay?"
Nora hesitated instinctively.
Sico smiled gently.
"We'll have dinner first," he said. "Then maybe you and Codsworth can finish that building project you started."
Shaun considered this very seriously.
"…Okay," he agreed after a second. "But I want to see you eat at least one bite."
Nora crouched down and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.
"I promise," she said into his hair.
He hugged her back fiercely.
Then pulled away with that bright, satisfied grin that only came when he knew he'd been part of something important.
Codsworth ushered him gently toward the kitchen area.
"Come along, Master Shaun. We must allow the evening to proceed with proper decorum."
"I know what decorum is," Shaun protested.
"Yes, sir. Of course you do."
Their voices faded.
And then it was just the two of them again.
The candlelight flickered softly across Nora's face.
Sico stepped closer.
"You're quiet," he observed.
She shook her head slightly, still taking it all in.
"You remembered," she said.
"Remembered what?"
"That I said it's been a long time since we've had something like this."
He tilted his head just slightly.
"I listen."
Her lips trembled into a smile.
She stepped forward and rested her hands against his chest.
"This is…" she began, then faltered. "It's beautiful."
His expression softened.
"I wanted tonight to feel different," he said. "We spent the day like a normal couple in the wasteland."
She huffed a soft laugh.
"Normal might be stretching it."
He grinned faintly.
"But tonight," he continued, "I wanted you to walk back into this house and feel… chosen."
The word hung there.
Chosen.
Not for leadership.
Not for duty.
Not for necessity.
Chosen.
Her throat tightened slightly.
"Sico…"
He reached up and brushed a strand of hair back from her face.
"You carry so much," he said quietly. "Every day. Down there. Up here. With Shaun."
She swallowed.
"So do you."
"Maybe," he conceded. "But tonight isn't about that."
He glanced toward the table.
"It's about us."
For a long moment, she just looked at him.
Then she leaned forward and kissed him.
Not quick.
Not shy.
Slow.
Grateful.
When she pulled back, her forehead rested lightly against his.
"You're going to make me emotional," she murmured.
"I can live with that."
She laughed softly, wiping at the corner of one eye before stepping back.
"Alright," she said. "Before the optimal temperature window closes."
He chuckled.
They moved toward the table together.
He pulled her chair out for her without comment.
She raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't protest.
When she sat, he took his seat opposite her.
For a moment, they just looked at each other across the candlelight.
The room felt smaller.
More intimate.
The world outside distant.
He reached for her hand across the table.
"Still okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded.
"More than okay."
They began to eat.
Simple food.
Carefully prepared.
Every bite felt intentional that not because of extravagance, but because of effort.
At one point, Shaun peeked around the corner just enough to confirm they were actually eating.
Nora caught his eye and exaggerated a dramatic bite.
He grinned widely and disappeared again.
Sico shook his head with amusement.
"You've got competition," he said.
"I don't mind," she replied softly.
They talked between bites.
About the afternoon.
About the swing.
About how ridiculous he looked when she pushed him.
He protested weakly.
She ignored him.
At one point, he reached across the table and brushed his thumb lightly along her knuckles.
"You know," he said, his voice lowering slightly, "I meant it earlier."
"About what?"
"Being allowed to be this."
She held his gaze.
"Yeah?"
He nodded.
"I don't ever want us to forget that."
The candlelight flickered between them.
"We won't," she said quietly.
They finished dinner slowly.
No rush.
No pressure.
Afterward, Sico stood and offered his hand.
"Dance with me."
She blinked.
"There's no music."
"There doesn't have to be."
She hesitated for half a second.
Then she placed her hand in his.
He pulled her gently to her feet and drew her close.
One hand at her waist.
The other holding hers.
They swayed slowly in the soft candlelight, the quiet hum of Sanctuary outside their walls the only soundtrack.
Her head rested against his shoulder.
His cheek brushed her hair.
For a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to the space between them.
"This," she murmured softly, "is dangerous."
He smiled faintly.
"Why?"
"Because I could get used to it."
He tightened his hold just slightly.
"Good."
They moved slowly, unhurried, letting the evening settle deep into their bones.
And in the doorway, unseen by them for a brief moment, Shaun peeked again and smiling softly.
Inside the candlelit room, Sico and Nora continued to sway.
Shaun didn't mean to stare.
He really didn't.
He told himself he was only checking.
Just checking that they were still smiling.
That they were still eating.
That the candles hadn't accidentally set anything on fire.
But when he peeked around the doorway this time, it wasn't the food that caught his attention.
It was the way they were moving.
Slow.
Close.
Like they weren't thinking about anything else.
Like nothing else existed beyond the small circle of light cast by the candles.
He watched Sico's hand rest steady at his mother's waist. Watched Nora's head lean into Sico's shoulder like it belonged there.
Shaun's chest felt warm.
Not confused.
Not jealous.
Just… warm.
He stepped back into the kitchen area where Codsworth hovered patiently near the counter, pretending not to monitor the situation with the subtle attentiveness of a guardian who had seen far too much loss in his time.
"They're dancing," Shaun whispered.
Codsworth's eye lights flickered gently. "Indeed, Master Shaun."
"There's no music."
"Yes, sir. I have noticed."
Shaun folded his arms thoughtfully, his brow furrowing in concentration in a way that mirrored Nora's far more than he realized.
"That's not right," he declared.
Codsworth tilted slightly. "Pardon, sir?"
"They're dancing," Shaun repeated firmly. "You're supposed to have music when you dance."
Codsworth paused, servos whirring softly as he processed the logic.
"Well," he admitted delicately, "traditionally, that is correct."
Shaun glanced back toward the living room again, where the soft shuffle of footsteps and quiet murmurs drifted through the doorway.
"Can we fix it?" he asked.
Codsworth's voice warmed. "I believe we can, sir."
Shaun's face lit up instantly.
"Okay," he said decisively. "Play something good."
Codsworth floated toward the small radio perched on the shelf. It was an old thing. Scratched. Repaired more times than anyone could count. It had survived storms, raiders, and at least one incident involving an overenthusiastic Brahmin.
Codsworth adjusted the dial carefully.
Static crackled softly at first, filling the quiet house with that familiar, grainy hiss of the wasteland airwaves.
In the living room, Nora lifted her head slightly.
Sico glanced toward the doorway, eyebrow raised.
The static shifted.
Faded.
And then.
Soft piano notes.
Gentle.
Melancholy.
And a woman's voice, clear and haunting.
"Why does the sun go on shining…"
The room changed.
Not abruptly.
But profoundly.
Sico stilled for half a second.
Nora's breath caught.
The old radio, humming gently on the kitchen shelf, now carried the unmistakable sound of The End of the World by Skeeter Davis.
Shaun beamed.
"There!" he whispered proudly.
Codsworth gave a refined nod. "An excellent selection, if I may say so."
Back in the candlelit room, the song continued.
"Don't they know it's the end of the world…"
Nora's fingers tightened slightly in Sico's hand.
He felt it.
He always did.
He leaned back just enough to look at her face.
There was something fragile there now.
The song wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It drifted through the room like memory.
Like something older than the war.
Older than loss.
Older than everything they had survived.
"Shaun," Nora murmured softly, almost to herself.
Sico smiled faintly. "Good instincts."
She huffed a breath that was almost a laugh.
"It's an old song."
"It fits," he said quietly.
Her eyes met his again.
The lyrics moved through them both, threading gently through spaces they didn't always talk about.
"Why does my heart go on beating…"
He shifted his hand slightly at her waist, drawing her a fraction closer.
The dance changed with the music.
Slower.
More deliberate.
Their movements synced naturally with the rhythm.
Nora rested her cheek against his chest this time, listening not just to the song, but to his heartbeat beneath it.
For a moment, the irony of it didn't escape her.
A song about the world ending.
Playing in a world that had already ended once.
And yet.
Here they were.
Dancing.
Candles lit.
Child safe in the next room.
Heart still beating.
"Funny choice," she murmured softly.
He brushed his lips against her hair.
"Not funny."
She tilted her head slightly. "No?"
He shook his head.
"The world ended," he said quietly. "And we're still here."
The words settled between them.
She swallowed.
"You always do that."
"Do what?"
"Make it sound simple."
"It isn't simple," he corrected gently. "It's just… true."
The song carried on.
"Why do the stars go on shining…"
In the kitchen doorway, Shaun leaned against the wall, swaying slightly to the music himself, though far less gracefully.
Codsworth hovered beside him.
"They look happy," Shaun whispered.
"Yes, Master Shaun," Codsworth replied softly. "They do."
Shaun smiled.
He liked that.
He liked that they looked like that.
Not tense.
Not planning.
Not worried.
Just… close.
In the living room, Nora lifted her head again.
"You planned this too?" she teased gently.
"The song?" he asked.
She raised an eyebrow.
He chuckled softly. "No. That was all him."
She smiled, glancing briefly toward the doorway.
"Good taste."
Sico leaned in slightly. "You don't mind?"
She shook her head slowly.
"No," she said. "I don't mind."
The truth was.
The song didn't feel sad.
Not really.
It felt like acknowledgment.
Yes, the world had broken.
Yes, things had ended.
But hearts still beat.
Love still existed.
People still chose each other.
The candles flickered, wax dripping slowly down the sides of the jars.
Outside, the soft hum of Sanctuary carried faintly through the walls from distant voices, a Brahmin shifting in its sleep, the low crackle of a guard's radio.
But inside.
It felt suspended.
Sico spun her gently, just once.
Nothing elaborate.
Just enough to make her laugh softly as she turned back into his arms.
"You're showing off now," she accused lightly.
"I absolutely am."
She shook her head with amusement.
Then her expression softened again.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For today."
"For the river."
"For the swing."
"For this."
His thumb brushed lightly along her spine.
"You deserve days that aren't about survival."
She looked up at him.
"So do you."
He smiled faintly.
"Maybe this is how we survive."
The song reached its gentle chorus again.
"Why does my heart go on beating…"
They swayed slowly.
The room dim except for candlelight.
The radio's warm crackle filling the silence between lyrics.
Shaun stepped forward just slightly, unable to resist anymore.
"Mom?"
Nora turned her head.
"Yes?"
"Do you like it?"
She smiled at him in a way that made something steady settle deep inside his small synthetic chest.
"I love it," she said honestly.
He grinned widely.
Sico extended a hand toward him.
"Come here."
Shaun hesitated.
"Really?"
"Really."
He hurried over, slightly awkward but determined.
Sico adjusted his stance, kneeling just enough so Shaun could fit between them.
Nora laughed softly as Shaun placed one hand on her waist and one on Sico's side in a clumsy imitation.
They swayed together.
Three shadows dancing against candlelit walls.
Codsworth watched from a respectful distance.
The song played on.
And for that brief stretch of time, the lyrics didn't feel like mourning.
They felt like defiance.
The world may have ended.
But not this.
Not them.
Not tonight.
Shaun looked up at Sico.
"Is this what a date is?" he asked seriously.
Sico glanced at Nora.
"Part of it," he answered.
"What's the other part?"
He smiled faintly.
"Choosing someone. On purpose."
Shaun nodded thoughtfully.
"I think you chose good," he informed Nora.
She laughed softly, brushing a hand through his hair.
"I think so too."
The song began to fade toward its final notes.
The piano softened.
The last lines drifted gently into silence.
For a moment, none of them moved.
The radio crackled quietly.
The candles flickered.
And the house felt full in a way it rarely did.
Sico pressed a soft kiss to Nora's temple.
"Still dangerous?" he murmured.
She leaned into him.
"Very."
He smiled.
"Good."
Shaun stepped back reluctantly as the song ended.
Codsworth adjusted the radio volume down to a gentle background hum.
"Shall I queue another selection?" he asked politely.
Nora looked at Sico.
Sico looked at Nora.
She smiled.
"Maybe just let it play."
The radio shifted to soft instrumental chatter between songs.
The candles continued to burn.
Shaun yawned without meaning to.
Nora noticed immediately.
"Alright," she said gently. "Someone has had a very big day."
"I'm not tired," he protested automatically.
Sico crouched again, eye level.
"You did important work today."
Shaun considered this.
"…I did."
"And important people need rest."
He hesitated.
Then nodded slowly.
"Okay."
He hugged Nora first.
Then Sico.
Quick.
Fierce.
Codsworth escorted him toward his room, murmuring something about brushing teeth and proper evening routines.
The house quieted again.
Sico and Nora stood alone in the candlelight.
The radio softly humming between songs.
He looked down at her.
"Still okay?"
She nodded.
"More than okay."
He brushed his thumb along her jaw gently.
"You get used to this," he warned lightly.
She smiled.
"I hope I do."
The candles burned lower.
The night deepened.
And somewhere in the background, the radio began another old melody but it was that first one, that haunting voice of Skeeter Davis echoing through the room moments earlier, that lingered most.
Because in a world that had already ended, their hearts still went on beating. And tonight, that was enough.
______________________________________________
• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-