Chapter Text
Nora woke up from her next sleep feeling normal.
The unbearable arousal was gone. The desire to ride Arthur Maxson until he came in her and got her pregnant-
Well, that was there in the back of her mind.
But it wasn't pressing. It wasn't almost painful. It was just the same fantasy it had always been. As she sat up, looking around the bedroom, the lights had changed too. The red glare had gone from the room. Which meant-
Springing from the bed, Nora bolted into the lab. The terminal blinked at her, letting her know that the quarantine was over. Exhaling heavily, she looked back towards the bedroom. If she wasn't feeling the effects anymore… a cold sensation pitted her stomach. Oh no.
Arthur was passed the fuck out. After hours of maintaining an erection and repeatedly fucking Nora while having constant stamina, it took a toll on him and he was finally able to sleep peacefully. And even as the General bolted out of the bed, Maxson remained where he was, blissfully unaware and asleep and still curled in the position he’d been in as if she were still there.
Nora rubbed her eyes, and picked up her coat. The suit was a wreck, there was no salvaging it, so she stuffed the remains into her bag and hurried into the bedroom, peering through drawers to find something. There were a couple shirts and some men's pants that she pulled out and returned to the lab to remember that Arthur had shredded her underwear. Her bra was still intact, and she quickly dressed before putting her PipBoy back on and moving back to the bedroom. Maxson… was still asleep, and she switched on the classical radio channel, turning the volume up to high just as the finale of Swan Lake began to play loudly.
The sound was enough to wake him, pulling him out of the deep sleep he so rarely fell into, and a low grumble was made as he rolled onto his back, one hand going to his forehead to push his hair from his face while his eyes cracked open, squinting from the light. “What’s happening?” he groaned. “Why is the music so loud?”
"Needed to wake you up," Nora said. "The lab is unlocked. We can leave."
He made an almost dissatisfied grunt in response but sat up and briefly rubbed at his eyes before settling his gaze on her. She was already dressed—when had she even gotten out of bed? And just how long ago had she gotten out of bed? “Are you alright?”
“I want to get out of here,” she told him. “Before you drop another tube and lock us in here for the next 24 hours.” And with that she quickly made her way out of the room, letting him get dressed in peace as she made sure she had absolutely copied everything off the terminal and onto a holotape. It was going to be one awkward conversation with Neriah…
Arthur was taken aback at her words, his mouth opening and closing a couple times as he flubbed, unsure how to respond. Normally, he’d have thought of something to say, but having just woken up after spending close to 24 hours fucking her had him a bit off. Besides, she’d been so needy and affectionate before they went to sleep, and now she seemed cold and distant.
By the time she’d already left the room, he regained himself, clearing his throat and looking off to the side as if he hadn’t just had his ass verbally handed to him. “Okay, then,” he mumbled to himself before getting out of the bed to find his clothes. This was going to be difficult, whatever this was.
Still, he got dressed, finding his clothes scattered out in the lab, and quietly and cautiously approached her. “Are you ready, General?”
“God, yes,” Nora muttered. “I’ve been ready for about 23 hours. I’ve got the keycard, so unless you want to take anything with you, I’m good to go.”
He had to stop himself from physically wincing at her near-excitement to leave. “No, I’m ready,” he murmured.
The keycard bleeped against the swipe when she tried it, and the door slid open. A heavy sigh of relief escaped her, and Nora quickly headed down the hallway. “Good, I really don’t like being stuck like that,” she said as she reached the stairs. “It’s not something I wanted to make a habit of but I think this is the second time it’s happened to me.”
“I’m sure,” he said quietly, grabbing his weapon and following close behind her. But the mention of the second time? It almost sounded like she’d been locked in with someone else before… or did she mean the vault? Fuck. He’d trapped her in another tomb, hadn’t he?
“General, I really didn’t mean to drop the vial.”
Nora kept on moving upwards, the smell of fresh air whisking away the scent of the lab. “I know,” she replied. “I don’t imagine you liked being stuck in there anymore than I did. For what it’s worth, it’s ok. We’re alive and we have some research we can bring to the table.”
Rather than agreeing or disagreeing with her assertion that he didn’t like being stuck in the lab with her, Arthur just remained quiet. She was wrong, of course—he didn’t really mind it. Granted, he didn’t have the trauma of being stuck in a vault to go along with it nor the drastic effects of the chemical flowing through him to the same degree she did, but he still enjoyed it to some extent. It wasn’t often he liked being in such intimate close quarters with someone else for long periods of time, his past subs usually leaving after a scene and aftercare, but this was something he actually enjoyed. Yet, Nora didn’t seem to feel the same way.
“I’m sure Neriah will find all this useful,” he replied, his words still mostly mumbled. “I’ll send Scribes to collect what was left behind.”
Did he mean the formula? “Well,” she began, briefly glancing down to check that the buckle on her satchel was still shut tight, “um, I actually…”
He glanced up at her from behind her. “What?”
They reached the top of the stairs and Nora strode out into daylight. Everything she had been going to say stopped short at the familiar smell of the Commonwealth, and her eyes closed briefly. “God,” she murmured, “I think I get what Nick was talking about now…”
Coming up beside her, Maxson squinted at the sun, then glanced over at her. “Nick?” he asked. “About what?”
“He got stuck in a Vault for two weeks and when he came out he talked about how good it was to see the sky,” Nora replied. “Am I calling a Vertibird or you?”
He glanced down at her pipboy. “You can. Prefer not to waste a signal grenade.”
She nodded, and brought her arm up, switching to her radio and tuning to the right frequency. “This is General Pendleton, I’ve got Elder Maxson with me and we’re requesting a Vertibird?” She squinted, then read out their co-ordinates. “There’s our position.”
“Affirmative, I’m headed your way,” Lancer Wade replied.
“Thank you, Lancer,” Nora said, and looked back at Arthur. “I’m looking forward to somewhere that doesn’t smell like… that.”
“You mean like stale alcohol that inevitably turns into the smell of sex and cum?” he asked without looking at her, his arms crossing over his chest while he kept his eyes straight ahead.
Her cheeks burned at the… blasé statement. “I can deal with the last two,” she muttered. “It just smells like a lab. It’s not a home or anything.”
“Mm, you’re right,” he agreed with a nod. “But I don’t think it was ever meant to be a real home.”
A little black dot appeared on the horizon to the south, coming from where the Prydwen hovered in the distance. It came closer and closer, and then began to circle around, looking for a place to land.
“I don’t think Institute scientists are very good at homes,” Nora muttered, and as the Vertibird slowly drifted down onto the ground, she checked her pistol was loaded and started heading over, hoping that nobody was going to try anything stupid.
“No, it seems not.” Following her lead, Maxson cautiously approached the vertibird, hopping inside first and extending his hand to offer her help in once his weapon was set down.
Accepting his hand, Nora let him pull her into the aircraft, murmured her thanks, and then she took a seat, letting her shoulders get a brief rest from her bag, setting it on the floor. She leaned back in her chair, and stretched, arching up with a soft grunt, eyes closing before she sat back once more and rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Taking the seat across from her, Maxson relaxed back into it, stretching his legs out and folding his arms across his chest while he watched Nora adjust to where she was at. Whether she realized he was staring was a whole other thing, but he had no shame as he did it, his eyes stuck on her, studying her face, trying to figure out just where they went from here and if things were going to happen as they’d talked about.
But a slight flash caught his eye when the sun reflected off something on the floor. The top of her bag had popped open after she’d set it down, apparently, and as the vertibird was heading toward the Prydwen, the sun just briefly caught on to… a vial? One eyebrow raised and Arthur glanced back up at Nora to see if her eyes were still closed before he leaned down and opened the bag a bit more, only to find numerous vials of the chemical that had locked them in the lab inside it.
She’d taken them with her. But he’d mentioned sending Scribes to pick the lab clean earlier.
Leaning back in his seat again, he crossed his arms once more before clearing his throat. “So, the rest of those vials, think they’ll be of use?”
Nora’s eyes opened, and she looked at him, then down, to see the bag open a little more. “Neriah might find it easier to work with something if she’s got premade samples,” she said. “Hopefully she can isolate what helps increase-” she glanced behind her to see if the Lancer was listening, “productivity and remove the, uh, side effects. Because I’m betting that was just something its creator added for his own enjoyment, honestly.”
A slight smirk crossed his lips. “I see. So, you plan to hand all of it over to Neriah, then? Every vial?”
Her cheeks felt hot. Well, she wasn’t going to have much other use for it, right? Arthur wasn’t going to want to use it again, to be left at its mercy, he’d said as much earlier about not using it himself, so clearly he hadn’t enjoyed the experience that much. “Your facilities are more advanced than mine,” she pointed out. “This isn’t really Curie’s field of expertise either. She’s a virologist.”
“Well,” he leaned forward again and reached into the bag, plucking two vials from it and holding them up for her to see before stuffing them into his coat pocket, then sitting back, “I think Neriah can work with seven vials. Don’t you?”
Nora paused, looking him over. “I… guess?” Why was he taking two of them? That was a lot of formula. One vial had left them both in a state for 24 hours and he was taking two? “I suppose if she’s got the holotape and the research, she should be fine.”
He cocked his head to the side a little. “You seem surprised. Didn’t I tell you I was going to take some?”
“You did,” Nora agreed slowly.
The Prydwen was coming up fast.
“Scabbard, prepare for docking,” came through the radio, and the Lancer began her preparation to dock. The vertibird whirred, slipping in beneath the Prydwen, and then rumbled as the magnetic locks were engaged and the engine turned off. The blades tucked in, then slowed and stopped. When it was finally still, Nora stood, hefting the bag over her shoulder again.
“Sir?” the Lancer called, as Nora began to disembark, carefully getting off the aircraft. She began speedwalking off the flight deck and toward the door that led to the command deck.
Arthur started following her, one foot ready to step off the vertibird, until he was called. Turning to face the lancer, he tipped his chin up. “Yes, Lancer Wade?”
The Lancer cleared her throat, looking back at him. “Sir, I won’t ask you questions about why you were unaccounted for over the last 24 hours, but there’s a stimpak in the medical kit behind you if you want it.” She tapped on the side of her neck. Then the other side. Then just below her jaw. “That’s all, sir.”
Embarrassment was rare for Arthur Maxson, but it came easily at the moment as a deep shade of crimson rose up from beneath his finger-combed beard. Clearing his throat, he gave a single nod and moved over to the medical kit, grabbing two stimpacks from it—one for himself and one for Nora, knowing he’d see her along the way—then mumbled his thanks and that he’d have them replaced immediately before quickly making his escape from the vertibird.
Fuck.
After taking the stimpack, he beelined through the flight deck and the door, intending to make his way straight up the ladder to find Nora.
“Elder Maxson, sir!” Kells called, surprised. “You didn’t return from your mission with the General last night. It’s good to see you still in one piece.”
He’d almost made it, having gotten to the railing on the side of the steps, but it seemed Kells spotted him. Arthur stopped in his tracks, tipping his head back and mouthing a curse like a teenager caught by his parent after coming home too late, before turning around to meet Kells as the older man came up the steps. “Lancer-Captain Kells,” Maxson greeted. “I admit, I am returning much later than anticipated, but there were some… complications during the mission.” He waved his hand a little as if waving the issue away. “Regardless, it’s over and done with now, so there’s no need to worry.”
Kells’ brow rose as he came close enough to see the dark bruises formed on Arthur’s neck. “Did your complications have teeth, Elder?” he asked. “Because it looks like you were attacked by ferals.”
Tensing his jaw, Arthur tipped his chin down a little. “Is this really a conversation you want to have, Kells?” he asked, his tone dropping. “Because I don’t think it is, especially here.”
Kells likewise dropped his voice. “I won’t presume to assume where the General was during your complications, Elder Maxson, but I’d prefer that if you’re going to take an evening of leisure off the ship, then you would inform the acting commander of your intended absence.”
“I did inform you I was going on a mission, Kells, and there actually were complications,” Arthur growled. “But if I’d had known the General and I were going to be stuck in an ex-Institute scientist’s laboratory where he was experimenting on a chemical that increases people’s sex drive and fertility levels, then I would have told you before we were locked in there fucking each other for the entire 24 hours.” Maxson exhaled and straightened his posture. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Lancer-Captain, I need to find the General.”
With that, he turned and started toward the ladder.
Kells froze, his eyes widening, and for a long while he was quiet, watching Arthur head for the ladder. “You should see Cade, then,” he advised lamely, and with that he turned on his heel and hurried back down onto the lower command deck.
Nora was where he’d expected her to be—with Neriah. The Elder was cautious and slow with his approach, unsure how to really even address her. He’d reverted back to her title when she seemed to want nothing to do with him, but beyond that? Did he try to act how he did on the vertibird? A mixture of flirty and cocky, like usual? She didn’t exactly seem to like it despite having reacted positively to it before, at least from what he could tell. Then again, he was never the greatest at reading people in regular settings; his specialty was always war.
Coming up behind her and Neriah, Arthur quietly cleared his throat to announce his presence, then stepped a bit closer. “Scribe Neriah. General Pendleton,” he greeted, nodding to both. It felt… strange switching back after having treated Nora so differently not even half a day ago. With anyone else, it was never weird.
“Elder Maxson,” Neriah greeted, eyes briefly darting to Nora and then back to him. “I appreciate what you’ve brought me. This is going to be crucial to the Capital when we return. I’ve spoken with the General and I’ll see what I can do about minimising the side effects. Leave this with me and I should have some promising results once my work on the X-111 compound has been completed. Ideally something that doesn’t include the gaseous form…”
Nora nodded at him briefly and looked back at Neriah, ignoring the heat that rushed through her when he appeared. “I’m assuming I’m not going to suffer any… adverse affects?”
Neriah shook her head. “For all the inventor’s flaws, he had this down to a- well, a science. You might suffer some increases of hormones around ovulation, and a slightly enhanced level of sensitivity, but it’s possible those will wear off after time.” She glanced up at the Elder. “This wasn’t invented for male ingestion, but you’re safe too, sir. Nothing here would cause you any trouble, and any side effects should wear off eventually just like with the General here. Of course, there are a few side effects to indulging in the formula itself, but nothing that you couldn’t get from a normal recreational activity.”
“Thanks, Neriah,” Nora muttered. “I should get going. Preston’s going to want to know where I’ve gotten to.” She glanced up at Arthur. “Elder,” she said with a nod.
He’d been nodding his head as he listened, taking note there shouldn’t be any side effects for him, which he figured might be the case considering there wasn’t really much of an affect on him at all from the formula, anyway. But the moment he was suspected, Arthur nearly bristled, his lips pursing as his eyes flicked from Neriah to Nora, then back again. Had Nora told the Scribe he’d taken two of the vials? Not that it’d matter. He was the damn Elder, he could do what he wanted. But… still. If his crew thought less of him for taking some for himself—well, not even really for himself, but for someone else—then that was problematic.
“I see,” he mumbled as he ran his fingers through his beard. Fuck, he was a mess. So was Nora, really. And speaking of which—she was making a break for it. He watched the General as she started to flee, though he spoke to Neriah at the same time. “Thank you, Neriah. I’ll check back with you soon.”
Parting ways with the Scribe, Arthur quickly chased after Nora. “General!” he called, trying to stop her from getting to the ladder.
Nora swallowed, and turned around, schooling her face into a neutral expression. “Is something the matter, Elder?” she asked.
“May we speak in private?” he asked, motioning to the door behind her that led to his quarters.
Fuck. “Of course,” she said politely, and clasped her hands behind her back, striding briskly away from the ladder and over to the door.
As soon as they got to the door, Arthur opened it, allowing her to step inside first, then closed it behind himself. He shrugged off his coat and gloves and tossed them onto the table before walking over to his desk where he kept his liquor—numerous bottles and glasses scattered atop it. “Do you want a drink?” he offered, figuring it might help. Why the hell was he nervous?
“Uh,” Nora paused, the word multigravida flashing through her mind, “no. Thanks. Best not.”
Rather than pouring himself one, though, he instead just turned to face her, studying her for a brief moment. “Have you changed your mind?”
Nora blinked. “Wh- have- what?”
Frustration washed over his face and he leaned back so he was partially sitting on his desk. “Look, Nora,” he sighed, finally using her name again. “I’m not… good at this. But I wasn’t lying when I said I’d marry you. But if you’ve changed your mind, then I need to know.”
Nora froze, her eyes wide. “I-I- wh- hold on,” she began. “We’re not- are you- feeling - are you still… drugged?”
“… What? No, I’m not drugged.” He shook his head and dragged his hands down his face. “Look, it’s fine. You can just say it was the chemical or whatever, I can handle it. Just please don’t treat me like I’m an idiot.”
She was still trying to register what he was saying. “It- you’re not an idiot,” she said lamely. “Why would- the- I don’t need chemicals to find you-”
She broke off, swallowing. What was he saying? That he still wanted- to marry her? That he was going to accept her saying it was all just a drug-infused pipe dream if that was what she wanted? Was… he mad that she thought he was still suffering from it?
Nora took a deep breath. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” she admitted. “Or… I want to make sure that I have it clearer. You… are sober. And… you want to marry me? Why?”
Running his fingers through his hair, he thought on the question. He knew the answer, but putting feelings into words was never easy. When it came to war and peace, he always knew what to say and do because that was what he was raised in; he knew how to negotiate, how to say what people wanted to hear… but how the hell did he explain his emotions?
“I like you,” he said, his arms crossing over his chest as he stared at her.
She blinked. “Oh.” She paused. “Well… I knew you didn’t hate me. But… what? Do you like?”
This… was not going as he’d hoped it would. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he sighed. “I like you. Your—your smile, your moans, the face you make when you cum, your laugh, how smart you are, your blush, all of it. Fuck, Nora. Just… you, okay? I’m not…” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, “I’m not good at this.”
Heat rushed through her without warning as he spoke, and she blinked repeatedly, her lips parting, eyes widening. “Uh- uhm,” she whispered, “but… you’re still… interested? In me? After- after the- formula wore off?”
He threw his arms up. “Yes.”
“I-I’m a lot older,” she mumbled.
“If it concerns you that much, then tell me ‘no.’”
“It doesn’t concern me,” Nora said. She folded her arms over. “I- Arthur, you’re going to wake up in ten years married to a forty-year-old woman. I don’t want you rolling over one day and decided that you-” she swallowed, “just- stopped being interested because I got older.”
“I’m also going to wake up in ten years with a ten-year-old child,” he added. “If I cared, I wouldn’t have brought it up. If it bothers you, you can back out. I won’t hold you to it.”
She felt her eyes prick. “It only bothers me because I like you,” she retorted, trying not to cry. “I… like the idea of being with you, and I don’t want that to end and I don’t want people- making comments about us because I’m so much older and- and I really feel like I should stop being so selfish and wanting you even though you might find someone who’s younger and isn’t going to grow older than you.”
His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to her concerns. Some of them seemed to be mostly based on fear, but others he wasn’t sure about. Still, he couldn’t help it when he pushed himself away from the desk and slowly approached her, stopping to stand in front of her as he reached a hand out to gently cup her cheek. “Nora,” he quietly whispered, sighing. His thumb grazed over her cheekbone; her skin was so soft beneath his rough hands. “What I want you to understand is that whom I want to be with is no one else’s choice but my own—not yours, not the Citadel’s, not my crew’s.”
Bringing his other hand up so he was cupping both sides of her face, his eyes flicked back and forth between her own. “You do have a choice in deciding whether I end up with you, however, because that is where I want to be.”
Oh god. That was somehow the most romantic thing someone had ever said to her, and as she raised her hand to grip his wrist, her heartbeat was loud and uneven in her chest. “You’re a liar, Arthur Maxson,” she breathed. “You say you’re terrible with feelings and then you go and say that.”
A grin stretched across his face and he leaned down to press his forehead against hers. “Sometimes I luck out,” he teased. “So, pulchra, tell me. Do you want to marry me?”
She nuzzled into the hand on her right cheek. “Yes. I do. I-I want… you.”
“Good. Because, if I’m being honest, that initial rejection was new and I didn’t really know how to handle it.” His grin grew wider with his words.
She flushed. “I thought you were going to wake up and just stop being interested like it’d broken some kind of- of curse on you,” she mumbled, burying her head in his jaw.
“No such luck for you,” Arthur laughed while wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest. “I’m a determined man. I get what I want.”
Nora snuggled into him, relaxing with a soft sigh. “I’m gotten,” she murmured. “What are you gonna do now you’ve got me?”
“Well…” His hands slid down her back until he was cupping her ass. “Lancer Wade politely reminded me of the bruises on my neck before I left the vertibird, so I took a stimpack and got one for you, too. But it might be pointless for you to take it right now…”
Her breath hitched, her hands coming up to glide over his back. “I-I see,” she whispered, and pressed her lips against the underside of his jaw, over one of the old bruises she had left on him. “What if- what if I made your stimpak pointless?”
The mere thought had a low noise rumbling from his chest. “Mm… I think that would be very unprofessional, General,” he answered even though his chin tipped up, baring his throat.
Nora lapped briefly at the bruise before pulling back. “What’s- really unprofessional is- you ripped my suit,” she reminded him.
That same grin returned to his face and he snorted. “You wanted it off,” Arthur replied, defending himself. “Besides, I’ll get you a better suit, so don’t worry.”
“Better than a Vault suit?” Nora’s brow quirked. “Not possible.” She brushed her lips over one of the marks again.
“Mm, that’s debatable.” His chin tipped up again to surrender his throat. “I definitely think this one will be better.”
“We should lie down,” she murmured. She wanted to keep doing this, but she knew that Arthur was going to lose his balance if the shaking from yesterday had been any indication.
Without a word, Maxson hooked his hands beneath her ass and hoisted her up against him to where her legs were on either side of his waist, then carried her over to the bed, lying down atop her while keeping most of his weight on his elbows and knees.
Nora pulled off her gloves and tossed them aside. “I need to get my coat off,” she murmured, wriggling it slightly so that it pooled in the crook of her arms.
“I could cut it off,” he offered, reaching down to his boot.
“Not my coat,” she said firmly. “But- I mean- these aren’t actually my clothes. I stole them from the guy’s bedroom.”
“We got locked in his lab, I think that’s only fair,” he mumbled as he helped get her coat off.
Nora threw it over to where his was draped over the table. “Let’s not do that again.”
“You sure? You won’t be disappointed when we don’t fuck like that in the future?” he asked while gently pushing her onto her back again, his lips going to her throat to press soft kisses.
Nora’s eyes fluttered shut. “Arthur,” she said softly, “I will, mm, be with you wherever is s-sensible a-and sane. S-so not locked in a quarantined lab for 24 hours.”
“And what if I want to use some of that chemical on you in the future?” he purred. “In a sensible and sane place.”
“Yes,” she gasped out. It came out too quickly.
He shifted his body a little so he was pressing against her, having grown semi-hard. “Yeah? You like that idea? Letting me use that drug on you so you’re desperate and needy for me, begging me to fuck you and cum in you?” Arthur nipped her neck as he moved toward her ear, gently biting her jaw along the way. “Keep you locked in our quarters for the entire day while I fuck you over and over, and I won’t even take any of it myself.”
“Fuck,” she groaned, “Arthur, please. Priya.”
“Please, what?”
“Husband,” Nora breathed.
Maxson pulled away from her just enough to see her face, studying her briefly, only to crash their lips together in a rough kiss as he reached down to pull his knife from his boot. Her clothes needed to go—and they needed to go now.
Well, she thought as he started cutting her clothes off, moaning, that’s a new one.