The Rad Zone -- Fallout x reader-ish oneshots

Break

Oh yeah here I am coming at you with a short one because I'd really like to keep a schedule but I had literally nothing written for these past two weeks. So here, take this one, edited like once and written in the span of like a couple hours because I'm fucking lazy and stupid. Have a good one and all that garbage. Tell your mother you love her, by the way.

Oh yeah and by schedule I think I'll be putting one of these out every other week. That sounds reasonable to me, unless I get bold and do one a week, which probably won't happen.

In which Nick should probably use some of those vacation days

Nick Valentine/Sole Survivor

No warnings

~~~

No matter how many times she counted the ridges in the tin plates that made up the roof, it always came out as a different number. Like her eyes were constantly playing tricks on her, bent on tripping her up. Did she skip some? Count some twice? Or did they just mysteriously pop up when she wasn't looking? Yeah, it was probably that one, she told herself, smiling in mild amusement.

"You sure you want to stay? I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to hit the hay back at home."

Nick's voice pulled Sole from her concentration. She shifted up on the thin mattress, elbows planted firmly on the semi-soft material, and each individual spring digging into her back. She almost wondered how he even slept on this thing, but the notion that he didn't exactly need to sleep stopped her. What did he need a bed for? Decoration? Why would he, of all people, care about decoration?

"And miss out on the exciting life of a real detective? No way," Sole said with a hint of laughter in her voice. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

She peeked around the corner to see that Nick was still at his desk, scribbling down notes on the papers strewn about the surface. He had been so determined to clean up around the office for the past few days, and it was obvious he was getting pretty tired of paperwork. Nick was pushing the pen down hard on the paper, amplifying the scrawling noise of each stroke. Sole knew he'd much rather be working a case than doing desk work. He would've put Ellie up to this, but she had been home sick for the past few days, leaving him to take the place of a desk jockey. Sole offered to help, but Nick insisted that this was his job, not hers. He thought she already had enough on her plate with the Minutemen, and said that he wouldn't be the one to burden her with even more work.

"Exciting? This is just a step above watching the paint on the city's wall dry," Nick replied, clicking his pen in thought.

"Sure, watching paint dry might be less mundane," she started, "but I get to spend time with my favorite synth in here," she said in a singsong voice.

Nick paused, a rare occurrence when he was all-consumed by his work. That work trance that he would get into when he had every crevice of his mind occupied was often a hard on to break. He flicked his glowing gaze over to her and flashed a small smile, those harsh yellow irises mellowing down to a soft golden. "You flatter me, doll," he said softly, still smiling. Then it was right back to stone-faced, ironically robotic work, and the smile that made her heart flutter was gone, put away for another day.

Sole frowned at how quick his expression changed from the two extremes, like that smile was just a mask he briefly put on for his sake. She thought of how stressed out he must be, what with the mountain of papers that rested tauntingly beside him. "You should take a break. All this work is gonna run you into the ground. I'm surprised your wrist even still works at this point," she forced a chuckle in an attempt to hide her genuine concern. It really was a miracle that the exposed metal hand hadn't just given up yet. But, she thought, like the person that hand belongs to, it's too stubborn.