It was getting dark out, and after a long day on the road, Jeremiah decided it was time for them to stop and set up camp for the evening. Edie always did her best to keep up with him, but it didn’t take more than a sidelong glance to notice that the plucky vault-dweller was losing steam. Not that he blamed her, she wasn’t used to this nomadic lifestyle or the daily perils of the wasteland.
Perhaps other people would have thought of Edie as some sort of liability (Jeremiah would be lying if he said the same thought had never crossed his mind once or twice during the early days of their travels), but the more time they spent together, the lighter his burdens seemed to feel. There was just something about his travel companion that made him… happier—maybe even the happiest he’d been in a long time (though he wouldn’t dare admit that out loud).
“You doin’ alright back there, darlin’?” Jeremiah called out as he turned to look at her.
“Of course! Just a little tired, but you don’t have to worry about me, big guy.”
Of course she’d say something like that. Jeremiah had been trailing ahead of her for a while now, and he made a conscious effort to slow down a little—take shorter steps—so they’d fall into sync with one another and walk side by side. He let out a little huff, and if he were being honest, her response had him feeling just a teensy bit protective of the upbeat young woman who was doing her very best to plow onward and match his quicker pace.
“No need to push yourself,” Jeremiah uttered with a soft smile. “It’s ‘bout time we set up camp for the night anyways, we’ve been burnin’ daylight since sun-up.”
They were in this for the long-haul after all, had made a pact to travel together until they reached the coveted gates of Foundation. Jeremiah had only heard about the place via word of mouth, but the idea of a “fresh start” and “rebuilding civilization” from the ground up was appealing even to the world-weary and sometimes pessimistic gunslinger.
Getting there wouldn’t be easy (something that became clearer and clearer the longer they spent on the road), but for the first time in a long time, Jeremiah had something to look forward to.
And Edie… well, she was one of the things he was grateful for.
He didn’t know how she did it, but even on their worst days, she managed to keep that glass-half-full type of worldview that he’d started to associate with her. Jeremiah had to admit, he was thankful that even their near brushes with death hadn’t dimmed Edie’s light too much.
Being around her felt like watching the first few rays of sunlight breaching past rain clouds.
They stayed like that for a little while, walking—her shoulder occasionally brushing against his arm—before Jeremiah broke the silence once more.
“Hey Edie,” he called out. “You know how to take apart and clean a rifle?”
“Gosh, no.” Edie answered softly, before she gave Jeremiah an awkward smile. “I wish I knew how to do all that cool stuff you do though.” They’d become friends over the course of their travels, Edie had even started to see the rough-and-tough gunslinger as a confidante, but there were still days where she found herself worrying about slowing him down—still days where she felt a little lost without his guidance. He was always so patient with her though, something she hadn’t initially expected when they started traveling together.
And Jeremiah, he was more observant (better at reading a room) than most people gave him credit for; he noticed Edie’s momentary self-consciousness and his expression softened.
“Tell you what, Edie. I’ll teach you how once we set up camp for the night. Sound good?”
“Oh, you will? That would be lovely!”
“Uh-huh, figured it’d come in handy, ‘specially since we’re on the road a lot.”
Jeremiah nudged his elbow softly into her arm, didn’t even notice the playful gesture that had become almost second nature to him. Slowly but surely, Edie was tearing his walls down.
“C’mon, that looks like the perfect place to set up camp for the night.”
“Okie dokie! Lead the way, big guy.”
It didn’t take long for them to set up camp for the night, and after a quick perimeter check to make sure the area was safe, the two of them spent a moment sitting around the fire Jeremiah built—warming themselves by the flames as the sky above them began to turn orange.
They’d found a folding table by a nearby junkyard, and Edie couldn’t help but stare as Jeremiah stood before it and took apart his rifle with a practiced ease; dispatched it with a certain fluidity that came with working with his hands (and his weapons) on the daily.
He stood tall and proud (and now that he had his coat off), she couldn’t help but notice how the taut muscles of his shoulders and biceps seemed to flex as he worked, and even with his shirt on, it was hard to miss his athletic build; Jeremiah was handsome under the soft glow of the setting sun, and Edie had to remind herself not to stare too hard at her traveling companion… though she’d be a damned liar if she denied the fact that she was enjoying the view.
Jeremiah caught her staring, but the reason flew over his head in the moment.
“Hey, you won’t learn anything from all the way over there. C’mere, Edie.” He gave her that lopsided grin of his—that crooked smile that highlighted his dimpled cheek—that made her heart skip a beat. “It’s best to take a hands-on approach with these kinda things, ya know?”
Edie stood up from her place in front of the fire, closed the distance between her and Jeremiah so she was standing beside him. She had been observing him as he took the rifle apart.
“I wanna see you put this back together again.” He adjusted his hat. “Well, after you give it a good cleanin’. It’s important to keep your weapons in good condition.”
Edie smiled that kind of oblivious smile of hers, because what did she know about weapons? The basics of course—pointy end goes in the enemy, pull the trigger at whatever it is you want dead. She and Jeremiah had run into their fair share of raiders at this point, had seen enough to scratch the surface of Edie’s more idealistic world view.
But still, she was far from a weapon expert. Even back then, when she worked for the responders, she was more familiar with the damage weapons caused than the weapons themselves.
Still, she did her best. Cleaning the parts was easy enough—a matter of running the cleaning patches through the rifle’s barrel and ensuring she repeated the process until the strips came out clean, using brushes on the different parts to get the grime and gunpowder off.
“This is to prevent jamming and misfires, right?”
“Yeah, you got the gist of it.”
Jeremiah stood close to her throughout, and his proximity and towering presence was a bit of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Edie felt safe around him… had a certain sense of peace that was hard to come by in the wastelands. On the other hand, he made her nervous; butterflies-in-the-pit-of-her-stomach nervous whenever he stood too close, or whenever she noticed that smoldering gaze of his lingering on her as she worked.
It was hard to read him, and sometimes, she wondered what was running through his head.
“Take care of your weapon,” he mumbled. “And it’ll take good care of you.”
But while cleaning the weapon didn’t pose any problems, putting the rifle back together again was a different story. Edie had seen Jeremiah do the same thing a couple of times before, but he was right; there was a big difference between watching someone else do it and doing it herself.
Edie tried to insert the bolt back into the top receiver, but it didn’t fit right, and the ejector spring slipped from the receiver and clattered onto the table with a metallic twang.
“Gosh, this is trickier than I thought it would be.” She tried again, but it was clear Edie was starting to feel a little self-conscious as she fumbled around—as one mistake became two, and she found that the parts just didn’t fit right, didn’t click into place like they were supposed to.
And if it were anyone else, maybe Jeremiah would have felt a faint twinge of annoyance, but watching Edie work amused him—even brought a small smile to the often-stoic gunslinger’s face. He eyed her for a moment, lips quirking upward before he tilted his head to the side and chuckled.
“Alright, alright, looks like you need some help over there, ma’am.”
And there he was again, casually flustering her with his words… that handsome smile of his that Edie always longed to see more of, because while Jeremiah rarely smiled, he had a boyish grin that was undeniably attractive; it made her stomach twist into a nervous little knot.
“Gosh, that obvious? I thought I was doing okay at first too.”
“A little,” he chuckled. “Nothin’ some good ol’ practice won’t fix. Lemme show you how it’s done.”
Edie had half a mind to step away from the table and give Jeremiah some space so he could work his magic, but apparently, the gunslinger had other things in mind. Before Edie could step away, he took his place behind her and circled his arms around her much lither frame.
The young woman nearly jumped out of her own skin when Jeremiah’s calloused hands rested atop her own—the momentary brush of his fingers against the back of her hands practically sending little bolts of lightning up and down her skin. She almost let out a surprised squeak, but ended up letting out a comical sounding little huff instead.
It wasn’t clear if Jeremiah had noticed, but the proximity left Edie feeling a little flustered, gave her that same butterflies-in-the-pit-of-her-stomach feeling she got whenever he’d teasingly call her ‘ma’am’ in that charming southern drawl of his, or whenever she’d catch a glimpse of him moving around camp shirtless during warmer evenings.
Edie wasn’t oblivious enough to deny her own budding attraction to him, but she didn’t know if Jeremiah felt the same—didn’t know if she was being silly, or if saying anything about how she felt would make things weird. The last thing she wanted was for things to become weird.
She liked having him around, liked the routines they’d fallen into.
They compensated for each other’s shortcomings; they took care of each other. Now, he was taking care of her, and she was trying not to melt into the sturdy chest behind her—trying not to turn into a puddle because the arms around her were both strong and gentle in a way that made Edie feel just a little weak in the knees.
And maybe Edie didn’t see it, but she had a similar effect on Jeremiah too.
The stoic gunslinger hid his feelings better than most, but he had a damned soft spot for Edie. Even now, with his arms around her, his thoughts were running a mile a minute. It didn’t show on his face, but he worried about the little things just like any other man—was he being too forward, too touchy, too comfortable with this? They were just friends after all, but he’d be lying if he denied wanting more out of this comfortable companionship they shared.
Edie was… she was like a damn lantern in the dark.
When he was with her, Jeremiah found he was a version of himself that he liked better… a more carefree version of himself that he thought he’d laid to rest a lifetime ago.
“Just like this, Edie.” He guided her hands. “Do it enough times, and it becomes second nature—I guess it’s kinda like ridin’ a horse or shooting, muscle memory and all that.”
And with Jeremiah’s guidance, the task was easy enough.
The spring and bolt were inserted back into place, and the top receiver connected with the bottom. A few clicks later, the rifle was back together again; as good as new atop the table.
Instead of letting go though, Jeremiah leaned in to inspect his handiwork—pressed his broad chest against her back without really thinking about it too hard.
“Atta girl, Edie. That’s how ya do it.”
“Come on, big guy.” Edie tried to lighten the mood, despite the fact that being tangled up in his arms made her feel like some sort of coiled spring. “You did all the hard parts.” She laughed that soft little laugh of hers, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement as she leaned into his chest, as she tilted her head up to look at him.
God, she had a smile that could light up any room.
“You and I both know I couldn’t have done any of that without you,” Edie chuckled.
“It’s nothing,” Jeremiah mumbled. “You look out for me; I look out for you.”
“Thank you, um, for always taking care of me.”
And something about the way Edie said it made Jeremiah melt, made a thought he’d never really entertained before pop straight into his head: he wanted to kiss her, he really wanted to kiss her.
For a moment, Jeremiah considered the thought…
“You okay, big guy?”
The gunslinger felt heat creeping up his neck and cheeks (realized he was probably blushing like a fool) before he snapped his head to the side and immediately tried to look away. Nah, he was being stupid. Only a fool went out of his way to ruin a good thing, and Edie, she was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. He wasn’t about to screw that up, not a chance in hell.
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “It was nothin’ darlin’. Hey, we should rest up. It’s been a long day.”
They were running a bit low on food, and Jeremiah spent a moment staring at the can of Cram he held in his hand… it wasn’t exactly a meal for two, though he supposed he could always go to bed a little hungrier than usual, maybe try and shoot up some bloatflies in the morning.
“You know what, I’m not even that hungry.”
The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder. It was dark now, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the flames. Jeremiah was used to looking out for himself (the wasteland was a dog-eat-dog world after all), but he couldn’t help but feel protective of Edie.
She was making him soft. But if Jeremiah thought about it hard enough, he didn’t mind at all.
“Nonsense, after all that walking we did?” Edie wasn’t naïve enough to miss what he was doing—he had a tendency to put himself last, a tendency to save her a little extra food whenever he could. And while it was sweet and all, she didn’t like the idea of him being so selfless. She shook her head back and forth. “There’ll be none of that! We can both share.”
She looked like one of those vintage bobbleheads on a car dashboard, the way she shook her head from side to side with such conviction. It was Goddamn adorable. Jeremiah would’ve given her the entire can if she’d let him, but he knew she was as stubborn as she was cute.
“Fine, fine. Maybe I can hunt something extra—”
“Oh!”
Edie interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, and Jeremiah watched as his travel companion began fumbling through her duffel bag for a few moments.
“I found this while we were scavenging for parts.”
“Found what?”
She gave him a playful look—all hopeful doe eyes and a smile that could light up the wasteland—then like a proud kid showing off their latest trinket, pulled out a Nuka Cola and offered it to him.
“I know how much you love these, and I thought it’d be the perfect sweet treat.”
And Jeremiah knew (oh he knew) he was in danger because he was falling, falling hard.
“Yeah?” He tried to play it cool. “I suppose I do love me a good cola.”
Nuka Cola was sweet and all, but honestly, she was even sweeter.