6. The Choice

It was nearly midnight by the time Danse returned from reconnoitering the area and scavenging what supplies he could from the outskirts of the Fens. The further into the city the Paladin went, the better their chances of finding supplies, but the risk to one soldier working alone was too great to chance it. Even in the half-destroyed shops and apartments of the outlying area Danse had searched, there were traces of Super Mutants, raiders, and all manner of other undesirable things. Fortunately, there were also quite a few unclaimed resources, and Danse was an expert at locating and procuring supplies. His pack was nearly bursting at the seams by the time he returned to the cabin.

The Paladin knocked three times in quick succession on the cabin door, followed by two slower knocks. This was the signal he and Myra had agreed on. The last thing he wanted was to get his head blown off by his partner just because he failed to follow protocol.

When Myra opened the door, he could tell right away that something was wrong. Her eyes were bloodshot, hollow, her cheeks stained with still-drying tears. The smile she flashed him was wrong, somehow, like she wasn’t quite able to fake it.

“Myra, what happened while I was away?” Danse asked, pulling the door shut behind him. It was all he could do not to sweep her into his arms, to do whatever he could to erase the agony on her face. “Are you all right?”

She nodded weakly. “I’ll be fine,” she murmured. “I just...it’s been a tough night. Being here alone with my thoughts isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world right now.”

Danse nodded. “I’m sorry. If we hadn’t been running low on supplies, I wouldn’t have left you behind.” He set his pack down on the kitchen counter, rifling through it and extracting his findings. “Fortunately, I believe I’ve procured enough food and water to sustain us until you’re well enough to come with me for the next run.”

“That’s good,” Myra said weakly. Danse paused, turning to look at her once more. It was more than being left alone. Something was definitely bothering her. Myra was wringing her hands, her lower lip trembling as she made eye contact with the cherub-like face of the boy on the coffee tin that lay open on the counter. Danse noticed with confusion that there were two cups out on the table. Why would Myra have made him a cup of coffee? She didn’t know what time he’d return to the cabin, and although he’d gotten better at hiding his displeasure when drinking it, he still wasn’t a huge fan of the bitter drink.

That left one of two possibilities. Either Myra had just had a mental lapse or someone else had been in the cabin. Given her behavior, Danse was convinced of the latter option. But no one was supposed to know where they were. No one except Farfield and Haylen, at least. Danse couldn’t believe that either soldier would have elicited such a reaction from Myra. So who had been in the cabin with her?

If this had been when they’d first met, the Paladin wouldn’t have hesitated to interrogate her, to find out what she wasn’t telling him. He hated lies, and to him, deliberate withholding of information was just another form of lying. But he knew Myra, now. He trusted her, even when she didn’t always give him cause to. Danse had to believe that she’d tell him what was going on in her own time.

Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t expedite the process. Danse walked over to the table, gently clearing the half-full mugs from their spot and walking them over to the useless sink. He crooked an eyebrow at her as he emptied the frigid contents before setting the chipped mugs on the counter to be washed.

Myra’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake, and she sighed. “I guess there’s no hiding things from you,” she muttered. “Deacon was here.”

“Deacon?” Danse frowned. That damned spy was always interfering with their lives. Couldn’t he give Myra any sort of break before dragging her back into his petty problems? Anger and jealousy wormed through the Paladin, and he fought to keep himself calm. “How did he find us?” he asked grimly. “You didn’t contact the Railroad, did you? I thought you didn’t want any contact with them until you’d made your decision.”

“I didn’t,” Myra protested. “You have to believe that I didn’t want him here. And after...after what happened, I wish I’d never opened that door.” She leaned against the counter, her eyes brimming once more with tears. “I can’t believe he’d put me in this position,” she sobbed.

The Paladin was beside her in a flash, his steel-covered arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder. “What happened? Did he hurt you?” he asked, doing his best to hide his panic.

Myra shook her head. “No. At least...not physically. Deacon would never do that. I know what you think of the Railroad, Danse, of what they’ve done, but Deacon would never hurt me on purpose. I…” she sighed, clinging to Danse’s chestplate. “I think it’s safer to say that I hurt him. And I feel like the lowest, worst person imaginable because of it.”

Danse looked down at her, his heart aching for the woman he adored. He didn’t understand what she was saying, not completely. But whatever had happened between her and the Railroad agent had clearly affected her in a way that just replaying the events couldn’t fix. He needed to break her mind out of its melancholy. “You should get some sleep,” he suggested. “I assure you, things will be easier to deal with in the morning.”

“I’m not tired,” she retorted. “Hell, even if I was...I need a distraction. I just...God, why did it come to this?” Myra sobbed bitterly, burying her face in the crook of Danse’s arm. He gently turned her chin upwards with his hand, wiping at the tears with his spare handkerchief.

Myra chuckled, batting his hand away. “Christ, Danse. I’m not a child.” She wiped her eyes quickly on the back of her sleeve. “Though I’m sure I seem pretty pathetic to you by now.”

“Hardly,” Danse replied. “If anything, I’m envious.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? You want to be a damn crybaby like me?”

“Not precisely,” he corrected. “I just...you’re so free with your emotions. Not everyone has the capacity to be that way. Or the freedom.”

“Well, I’d rather not be this way,” she lamented. “I hate being out of control. So if you wanna switch personalities, trust me, Danse, I’d be all for it.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not certain that’s possible,” Danse replied with a soft smile. “But if you need an activity to take your mind off of whatever is troubling you, I did bring my chess set. Would you care for a game?”

Myra rolled her eyes. “So now you’re going to take advantage of my mood and beat me even more soundly, is that it?”

“I...suppose the thought did cross my mind,” the Paladin admitted. “But why not play a match with me? It always seems to help you when you’re unhappy.”

Myra huffed. “Well, I don’t exactly have any incentive to play you any more, do I?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, dreading the answer. Had she lost so often that she wasn’t even willing to try? Whas she simply bored of the game? Danse treasured their matches, not because they were challenging, but because it helped him feel close to her in a way that he couldn’t allow himself to be otherwise. Facing each other down across the chess board, strangely, had always allowed them both to let their guard down. Looking back, the Paladin felt that perhaps that very first match on the roof of the Cambridge Police Station had sealed his fate. It pained him to think that Myra didn’t feel the same way.

She smirked. “Our original bet was that if I beat you, I’d get to see you without your power armor on. But I’ve seen you without it quite a few times now. Doesn’t seem like much of a reward these days.”

Danse sighed. Or, of course, there was a more mundane and crass explanation. Naturally, Myra’s concern was a lack of novelty, not a distaste for the game. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or more troubled by this revelation. “And I suppose you know what you’d like instead,” he grumbled.

Myra nodded. “If I win, you’ve gotta kiss me.”

What? Had he really heard that right? Danse froze, his eyes wide. “Absolutely not!” he protested. “Myra, you know full well that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Who cares about whether it’s appropriate or not, Danse?” she whined. “Come on. It’s just you and me out here. Who’s even going to know? Or do you just think you’re a bad kisser or something?” Myra’s grin deepened. “I’ll bet that’s it.”

The Paladin swore that they could power a nuclear reactor with his blush at that moment. “I’m fairly certain this is sexual harassment, Knight,” he sputtered.

“And what are you going to do about it, punish me?” Myra crooned. “Give me details.”

“You’re impossible,” Danse muttered. For all the embarrassment, he was honestly just happy to see her smile again. If a kiss was what it took to ease her melancholy, then...well, he certainly wouldn’t complain about it. He’d longed for another chance to feel her lips against his, and if a stupid bet was what it took, then so be it. She didn’t have to know his reasons for taking it. And besides, it wasn’t like she’d ever won a game of chess in all the matches they’d played. It wasn’t likely that she was going to start now. “Very well,” he sighed. “If it will get you to stop harassing me, I’ll agree.”

Myra laughed, sniffing back the remaining sorrow from her reddened nose. “I hope you packed chapstick!” she teased. “Because this time, I’m feeling lucky.”

“Chess isn’t about luck,” Danse corrected as he set up the board on the dining room table. “It’s about strategy, tactics, anticipating your opponent’s every move.”

“Or, it’s about moving your pieces so randomly that your opponent doesn’t have time to think up a counter-strategy,” she replied. “White or black?”

Danse groaned inwardly. Had that been her strategy all this time? It did explain some of her more questionable tactical decisions. Hell, it explained some of her choices on the battlefield as well. Luck was all well and good, but only a fool would plan for good luck and call it a strategy. He sighed. This was going to be an easy win again. Frankly, given the circumstances, he was hoping for a loss, but he would never bring himself to throw the match. Even now, with such a fantastic consolation prize, his integrity wouldn’t allow him to lose. “I’ll take white,” he said.

“Well, then, Danse,” Myra said, a dangerous glint in her eye, “It’s your move.”

The Paladin hesitated for a moment before walking to the door and exiting his armor. As Myra had so crudely pointed out, it wasn’t like there was a reason for him to keep it on while they were in the cabin. His...exposure was no longer a prize to be won. And besides, the empty suit would serve as an excellent barricade to prevent intruders. That’d teach Deacon to snoop around their camp.

Myra whistled teasingly as Danse returned to the table and sat across from her. “That’s one hell of a first move,” she teased, her cheeks a little bit pinker in the lantern light. “That flight suit really doesn’t hide a lot, does it?”

Danse scowled. This was exactly why he didn’t like being out of his power armor. He hated the flight suit, the looks he received when he wore it, how it rode up in the back...when forced to remove his armor for maintenance, he preferred to rely on fatigues. Those at least were less tight. He sighed before moving his king’s pawn two spaces. “Just play the game, Myra.”

She nodded, following suit with her king’s pawn. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. You know I’m just teasing you.”

Danse’s king-side knight joined the fray, falling in to support his pawn. “The teasing is part of the problem,” he replied.

Myra moved a second pawn next to her first. “What do you mean?”

Danse took her first pawn. This wasn’t going to take long, was it? “Myra, things aren’t…” he trailed off with a sigh. “I don’t understand you.”

She moved her queen in front of her king distractedly. “What’s there to understand?”

“The way you are with people,” Danse replied as his queen moved diagonally to the right side of the board, resting at H5. “I’m not exactly...great with human interaction. I’m sure you’ve realized that by now.”

“Oh, definitely,” Myra joked, advancing with a pawn and putting Danse’s queen in danger. “But that’s part of your charm. You’d be way less cute if you were all suave.”

Danse retaliated by taking her pawn with his knight. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t understand how easy it is for you to just…”

She stared at him, her bloodshot green eyes curious. “To just…?” she prodded.

“To just flirt with everyone the way you do,” the Paladin blurted. “I wish you would exhibit some more restraint. It’s...it’s confusing.”

“Is that what’s got you all bothered?” Myra’s queen swept downward, capturing Danse’s pawn. “Check,” she announced with a smile, before taking on a more serious expression. “Danse, I was a bartender. Charm’s my second nature. You know I don’t mean anything by it most of the time, right?”

Danse moved his king to safety next to his queen’s bishop. “No,” he replied sullenly. “I don’t know that for certain.” Sometimes, he was so sure, so confident that there was something special between the two of them. But other times, like tonight, he couldn’t help but feel that her playfulness was just how she kept people at bay. Some soldiers he’d known, like Maxson, guarded themselves in scowls and fury, protecting their sensitive natures with steel and thorns. Myra’s armor was no less effective, even if it was far more pleasant to interact with. Was it possible that she didn’t realize what she was doing?

Myra’s king-side knight moved to harass his queen. “I promise, Danse, when I’m flirting for real, you’ll know.” She leaned across the table, her lips pursed gently as she drew close to him. He froze as she removed his hood, tossing it to the floor. Myra ruffled his wavy black hair with one hand before settling back into her seat. “Much better. Now there’s a guy I could flirt with.”

Danse sputtered awkwardly and moved his queen out of danger, or so he thought. His heart beat furiously as he realized that he’d placed her right in the path of Myra’s queen. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to notice, as she moved her knight directly beside Danse’s queen. In retaliation, Danse advanced a pawn against Myra’s queen. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to take your fashion sense into account next time I prepare for a mission,” he said nervously, trying to make light of the situation.

She snorted, taking his knight with her pawn. “Danse, are you okay? You’re not usually this easy to mess with.”

He nodded. Was it warm in the cabin? It felt warm. “I need a drink,” he muttered, pulling away from the table. Danse tried to slow his breathing, tried to regain control. Ever since he and Myra had come to the cabin, he’d been having a much more difficult time relaxing around her. Without the weight of a mission hanging over their time together, the temptation to throw caution to the wind and just pretend that they weren’t in a difficult position was almost overwhelming. For all his stubborn faith in decorum, Danse wanted something to happen. Hell, he needed something to happen. Things couldn’t continue in this purgatory their relationship had been wallowing in. One way or another, things were going to come to a head.

But although Danse knew how he felt about Myra, he still had no idea how she really felt about him. Her heavy-handed flirtation should have been a clear indicator of her intentions, and coming from anyone else the Paladin knew, it would have been obvious that she had at least some attraction to him. Things were different with Myra. She was frustratingly hard to read, and her motives were obscured by her charismatic personality. She was a frustrating enigma, and the last thing he wanted to do was to lose her by making assumptions. Danse needed to calm down. He needed to give this time.

The Paladin rummaged in the kitchen cabinets before returning with a can of water for each of them. Myra smiled sweetly at him as she took the drink. “Thanks. It’s still your turn, you know. Unless you’re forfeiting.”

“Hardly,” Danse grumbled, taking Myra’s king-side rook with his queen. “I don’t know the meaning of the word surrender.”

“Tell me about it,” Myra sighed, moving her knight to capture another pawn. “Check.”

“What do you mean by that?” Danse asked, moving his king up to safety.

Myra shifted her queen over two spaces, locking down the space behind him. “I’m just saying, Danse, it wouldn’t kill you to learn to relax. Hell, with how stressed out you are all the time, it might even save your life. You’re a heart attack waiting to happen.”

Danse brought his queen before her king. “And you could stand to learn some caution,” he growled. “Check.”

Myra moved her queen in front of her bishop with a casual flip of her finger. “If you mean I need to be more careful who my friends are,” she grumbled, “trust me, I think I’ve learned that lesson.”

“Have you?” Danse replied, moving his bishop between Myra’s knight and his queen. 

She countered by moving her queen back a space. “You don’t have to sound so skeptical. Check.”

“I’m just worried about you, that’s all,” Danse said as his king fled to C3.

“I can handle myself.” Myra moved her queen to H4. “We can keep playing if you’d like, but that’s basically mate.”

Danse stared at the board in confusion. How had she managed to beat him? Yet there his king was, locked down by her knight and queen. Any additional moves on his part would just be delaying the inevitable. “Well done,” he said simply. “It took you the better part of a year, but you won.”

Myra smiled cryptically. “I guess I just needed the right motivation,” she replied. “Now, about my reward…”

The Paladin blushed. Right. Her reward. “Well, I...uh...how exactly do you want me to…”

She laughed. “It’s not that hard, Danse. I mean, you’ve kissed me before, remember?”

How could he forget? When she’d kissed him in his quarters the night they’d returned from Fort Hagen, he had felt his entire world shift. While it took him months to admit it, it was that moment that made him realize how deeply he cared for her. His desire to be close to her had been difficult enough to handle at the time. Every day they had spent together since had just made his feelings for her grow. There was nothing in the world that he wanted more than to scoop her up and pin her against the wall, kissing her breathless until there was nothing left for her to feel but the love he had for her.

Still, something held him back. He felt like he was taking advantage of her, somehow. Myra was still an emotional wreck. Whatever had transpired earlier in the night was still tormenting her. He could see it in her eyes. As much as he wanted to show her exactly how he felt, he knew it would be crossing a line they could never come back from. Even if he was willing to take the risk, to find out if what he thought she felt for him was real, was that what she really wanted? Was it fair to press the issue?

The Paladin sighed, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her into the sleeping area. She looked up at him, shocked, as he gently laid her down on the bed. “Danse,” she murmured, “are you…”

Danse smiled gently down at her. He removed her glasses carefully, setting them on the nightstand. Before she could say another word, he pressed his lips tenderly to her forehead, kissing her softly. “Get some sleep,” he replied. “I’ll keep watch for a few hours.”

The look of confusion and disappointment in her brilliant eyes was palpable, and it took everything in him to stand by his decision. It wasn’t what he wanted, and at least for the moment it wasn’t what Myra thought she wanted, but Danse wasn’t willing to hurt her just to satisfy his own feelings. It wouldn’t be right. He loved her too damn much to take advantage of her sadness, even if it was the only way he had to get closer to her. It hurt to leave her side, to head back out on patrol, but it was the right thing to do. Wasn’t it?

As the hours ticked away, Danse lost track of the number of times he almost walked back into the cabin to wake Myra up and talk things through. The more time they spent like this without immediate responsibilities, the harder it was for him to forget the bureaucratic nightmare that awaited them back at the Prydwen . Myra still hadn’t recanted her association with the Railroad, and if they were forced to return with her loyalties still very much unclear, Danse couldn’t guarantee that he’d be able to adequately protect her.

He trusted her when she said that she hadn’t known the Railroad’s bloody history. But now she did, and there was no excuse for her to see Deacon behind his back. While it was clear that their most recent encounter hadn’t exactly been a good one, who was to say that the charming spy wouldn’t turn her head with his duplicitous words? Danse had faith in Myra, more than she perhaps deserved. But against the wiles of a professional manipulator, he felt almost helpless. Losing her would be bad enough. Losing her to a man like Deacon was unthinkable.

Danse wanted to give her a reason to stay with the Brotherhood, to stay with him. He wanted so badly to tell her how deeply he loved her, but he knew how terribly that could backfire. What if she believed that the Paladin was also manipulating her? It could cost him everything, their entire friendship and working relationship. Was he really prepared to risk that?

No. Danse wasn’t about to do anything that would hurt Myra. Even if it gave him a chance at happiness, her peace of mind was more important. In the end, he only returned to the cabin once, just before dawn, to change shifts with her. As she smiled sleepily up at him, fumbling for her glasses, Danse knew in his mind that he’d made the right decision. His heart told a different story, but he locked it down. There was no time for speculation on things that shouldn’t be.

When he settled in for a few brief hours of sleep, however, Danse could almost swear that he heard Myra humming gently beside his bed. And as sleep took him into oblivion, he could almost feel her lips press softly against his eyelids, offering up a prayer for pleasant dreams.

::::

The next day, Danse awoke to the sound of frenzied shouting in the front yard. He leapt to his feet, thankful that he kept his laser rifle by the bed when it was his turn to use it, and careened to the door. He hastily threw the valve on his power armor and eased inside before bolting out of the threshold and into the forest beyond.

“I’ll have your head for this, you ugly sack of flying feces!” Myra screamed, waving her hands frantically at a large mutated seagull that sat in a nearby tree, completely indifferent to her insults.

“Myra, what’s wrong?” he asked, nearing her side. “Are we under attack?”

“Shoot the damn thing, Danse!” she cried angrily. “If my laundry can’t be saved, at least we can save someone else’s!”

He looked towards the house, his eyes widening as he saw the clothesline she’d strung from it. Indeed, her precious flannel shirt, as well as a few other items, were coated in white stains which were already beginning to eat away at the fabric.

“That looks like the work of more than one bird,” he said, honestly both horrified and impressed by the display. “Perhaps we should search the area.”

“Great idea,” Myra grumbled. “Thanks. You do that, and I’ll try to find more soap. I’m pretty sure that was the last of it, though. And this shit seems more acidic than the bird poop I’m used to.”

“It is rather corrosive,” the Paladin agreed. “Ingram complains about it eating through parts of the Prydwen all the time. We can go gather resources later today, if you’d like. There’s a few stores nearby that we haven’t exhausted yet. We might even be able to find you a new shirt.”

“I don’t want a new shirt, Danse!” she cried. “I like that shirt!”

It was true. Outside of her current outfit, which consisted of a simple black tank top and jeans, he’d rarely seen her out of the green and black flannel. She did occasionally wear the Brotherhood uniform, but only under duress.

The shirt itself was in miserable condition after all the battles it had seen. The original fabric was faded and frayed, held together by stitches and hope. Several bloodstains marred the fabric, a map of Myra’s misadventures and battles barely won. Danse was honestly surprised that the shirt had lasted this long.

“We can probably find one like it,” he replied. “There’s an abandoned Fallon’s just a few clicks from here. Wouldn’t a new one be better?”

“I don’t want one like it,” Myra said softly, clutching at the ruined shirt. “I want that one. It’s one of the last things I still have from before… before...”

She bit her lower lip, trying to suppress her tears. Myra cradled the worn flannel in her hands, fingers tracing the holes in the fabric like they were bullet wounds on the corpse of a friend.

Danse wasn’t sure when he’d gotten out of his armor, but before he knew it, she was in his arms, her too-cold body gripped tightly against him. She turned in his arms to face him, burying her head in his orange uniform, her tears saturating the thin fabric.

“I...I’ve lost so much,” she sobbed. “I know it’s just a stupid shirt, but…”

He cradled her head in one hand, his fingers wrapped up in her silky hair. The Paladin tried not to think about how long he’d been wanting to hold her like this. Now was not the time. “Shhh. No, it’s nothing to worry about, Myra. Just breathe. We’ll find a way to repair it, I promise.”

She nodded against him, the heaving of her sobs gradually fading away. Eventually she pulled back, looking up at him with her deep emerald eyes still moist from her outburst. “I’m sorry, Danse. I don’t know why I’ve been crying so much lately, and over such stupid stuff, too. I mean, yes, that shirt’s important to me, but...”

“Clearly, it’s not just stupid stuff,” Danse replied. “The catalyst may have been something minor, but I’ve seen soldiers lose their minds over far less than a ruined shirt. You are carrying a large burden of real pain. Of course it will find an outlet, whether you allow it to or not.”

Myra sighed heavily. “Well, how do you deal with it, Danse? You’ve seen a lot of hurt in your life, too. How do you keep it all locked down like you do?”

“It’s taken me years of practice and discipline,” he replied honestly. “Also, I’ve found that the extermination of wasteland abominations is extraordinarily therapeutic. As is power armor maintenance.”

Myra chuckled. “So you’re saying I need to get a hobby. Preferably one that involves lots of tools. And murder.”

Danse shook his head. “I’m saying that you will need to determine what the most beneficial coping mechanism is for you. But that is not the goal today. Today, you can cry as much as you want.”

“Well, as long as you keep holding me like this,” she said with a flirtatious smile, “I might take you up on that.” His face burned as he realized that his arms were still wrapped tightly around her waist, and he dropped them awkwardly to his sides, releasing her. Myra snickered at him as she wiped her nose with the back of one hand, turning her attention back to the ruined laundry. “Well, maybe you can start by just listening to me rant, like you always do.”

“That would be...more than acceptable,” Danse replied.

“I suppose I should have thrown this damn thing away months ago,” Myra said, surveying the tattered remains of her shirt once more. “I mean, it was mostly destroyed already. Hell, it wasn’t in great condition when I got it in the first place.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, where did you get it?” Danse asked, genuinely curious.

Myra sighed. “Nate gave it to me, I think. I don’t remember exactly...but I know it’s extremely important to me. When I woke up after leaving the vault, I looked through all the drawers and closets in my house. There wasn’t much left. Honestly, I was certain that nothing I treasured remained. But there, in the very back of a dresser, was this shirt. It felt like a miracle, like Nate was sending me a message that I was going to be okay. When I put it on, I felt like I could handle anything, like I was protected. So I guess I just never took it off unless I had to.”

Before meeting Myra, Danse would have dismissed such thinking as superstitious nonsense. But now...he’d seen her fight back through impossible odds, had watched her defy death so many times that it was almost scary. Maybe Nate was looking out for her from beyond the grave somehow. Or at least, having a memento of him with her gave Myra the courage to do the impossible.

“I think I might have a solution,” Danse said. “May I see the shirt?” Myra nodded, handing it over. Danse pulled a knife from his boot, cutting a large square of fabric from the back of the garment. He folded it carefully into a kerchief, taking care to trim as many loose threads as he could. When it was done, he tied the fabric around her swan-like neck. “It’s not ideal,” he replied, “but at least it will still be of some use to you. Hopefully Nate would approve.”

Myra nodded. “I...I think he would,” she agreed. “Thanks, Danse.” She lowered herself to the ground, groaning in pain as she laid back in the brown grass. “I always used to love looking up at the trees from below,” she murmured. “There’s something so peaceful about the way the leaves move against the sky. It’s a shame so many of these big ones are dead, now. But at least the sky still looks lovely.”

Danse hesitated for a long moment before lying down beside her. She scooted closer, resting her head on his broad chest. “I’m sorry if this is too uncomfortable for you,” she said.

“No you’re not,” he replied, worried that she could hear the frenzied beating of his heart, “but I suppose I don’t mind.”

She nuzzled tighter against him. “You’ve always been there for me, haven’t you, Danse?” Myra asked softly. “And all this time, I’ve acted like it didn’t matter. I’m sorry for that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Myra,” he replied, trying to decide whether to wrap an arm around her or not. He eventually settled on not. They were close enough as it was.

“I do, though,” she replied. “You’re a good man, Danse. I’ve been so caught up in everything, in fixing the ruins of my bombed-out life, that I haven’t been the most reliable friend to anyone. I’ve just been thinking about my own needs, my own fears. But that’s not who I was, before all of this. And it’s not who I want to be at the end of this road.” Myra trembled slightly, her breathing labored. “I’m scared, Danse. I’m scared that the woman I’ll be after we take down the Institute will be a stranger to me. I don’t want to be some unfeeling robot who has nothing left to care about, just a mother who murdered her own child.”

Danse stared up at the trees, collecting his thoughts as best as he could. “That doesn’t sound like the Myra Larimer I’m acquainted with,” he replied finally. “You may be impulsive and lack self-restraint, but you care very deeply about people. Otherwise, this decision wouldn’t bother you the way it does.”

“I guess you’re right,” Myra said. “I just wish things hadn’t ended up this way. I wish there was a way for me to stand by everyone I care about. It feels wrong, leaving so many of my friends out in the cold.”

“I know,” the Paladin replied, finally relenting and putting a comforting arm around her. It had always been so easy, so natural to touch her. From their earliest missions together, there had been a strange ease between Danse and Myra that he hadn’t encountered with anyone before. Well, there had been Arthur, but the younger man had stopped clinging to Danse years ago, had grown to rely on him differently. Arthur had been a child then, halfway between a brother and a son to the Knight who watched over him. Things changed when he had been forced into adulthood too early. Danse hadn’t been able to protect the last Maxson from the man he had needed to become, and perhaps that was the natural course of such a friendship.

With Myra, the course of their friendship had been different. For a while, Danse had convinced himself that he was playing the older brother to another young person with a destiny greater than one person should bear. But while Arthur’s destiny had pulled him ever further away from the Paladin, Myra’s seemed determined to bring them closer. She was more than someone for him to protect, now. Myra was...she was someone Danse wanted to spend the rest of his life with, in whatever way he could. The love he had for her had ceased to be friendship ages ago. He could only hope that she somehow, miraculously, felt the same.

“Hey, Danse?” Myra asked, starling him back into the present.

“What is it?” he replied.

“What did you think of me, back when we first met?” she continued. “I’ll admit, I’ve been curious.”

Danse sighed. “I thought you were rash, undisciplined, and clearly had a death wish,” he said. “I thought you were brave, facing down that horde of ferals with only a pistol, but I’ll admit, I had major reservations about working with you. I still don’t know what possessed me to offer you a place on my squad.”

Myra chuckled. “Yeah, well I thought you were a pretentious asshole with an armor fetish,” she shot back. “I mean, I know soldiers. Hell, I married one. But you were the most hardheaded, rigid person I ever met. Why I ever agreed to take you up on your offer, I’ll never know.” She sat up with a low moan. As she turned to look back at the Paladin, her eyes softened, a strange nervousness haunting their emerald depths. “And what about now?” she asked. “Do you still have reservations about me?”

Danse shook his head. “You’ve more than proven yourself to be not only a competent soldier, Myra, but a loyal friend as well. I...I trust you. Completely. I’m grateful to whatever temporary insanity made me want to recruit you.”

Myra’s smile wavered. “I’m grateful too. I can’t imagine how I’d be handling any of this without you. That’s...that’s why I think I’ve made my decision. I’m going to take the Oath, Danse.”

His eyes widened. “Are you absolutely certain? You realize the massive responsibilities that come with the Oath of Fidelity, don’t you? You will have to follow every order given to you, without question. If you were tasked with an assault on one of your former allies, you would have to comply.” 

She nodded. “I know.”

“You’d be giving up your neutrality, your autonomy…” Danse sat up, his face stony. “I...I hope your realize that I never wanted to ask that of you.”

Myra smiled sadly at him. “I know what I’m giving up, Danse. But I also know that there’s something really important that I might gain if I stay.”

The Paladin’s brow furrowed. “Such as?”

Myra blushed, the rosy tinge of her cheeks lighting up her freckles. “Don’t make me say it. I...it’s better if I don’t.”

“Myra, you can tell me anything. I promise not to judge.”

“It’s nothing bad!’ she protested. “At least, I hope it’s not.” She struggled to her feet awkwardly, nearly falling back to the ground before catching herself on a tree trunk. “Shit, that smarts! It’s just…” Myra trailed off, her eyes a thousand miles away. “I think I’m in love with you, Danse.” 

“You...what?” he replied, shocked. She had to be teasing him. There was no way she could be serious. Danse had never been a lucky man. He couldn’t be fortunate enough for her to really care for him that way.

“I mean it,” Myra replied, her eyes meeting his nervously. “I wasn’t expecting to fall for anyone, not after losing Nate. I never thought I’d find anything like that again. And it’s not like it was with Nate, not exactly. It feels different, almost...more real somehow? That sounds wrong,” she amended. “I don’t know. I just can’t keep denying that you mean more to me than just a friend. And I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I just thought you should know.”

Danse stared at her, slack-jawed. “I… er… I mean, I never realized…”

Myra laughed self-deprecatingly. “What, the kiss I gave you after Fort Hagen didn’t give you a clue that I might...?”

Danse shrugged. “Well, people behave erratically when they’ve been traumatized, Myra. I mean, Haylen kissed me once, too, and I know she’s not in love with me.” He thought for a moment, his deep brown eyes distant. “She’s not, correct?”

“I don’t think she’s in love with you, no,” Myra said. “Not so long as Knight Rhys exists, at least. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you, Danse. I think she sees you as her big brother.”

“And you… don’t,” he replied.

Myra nodded. “Right.”

Danse’s mind raced. As much as he’d wanted to hope that Myra felt the same way about him as he felt about her, he hadn’t dared to really accept it as a possibility. As thrilled as he was to hear those words from her, the Paladin was caught entirely off-guard. What was he supposed to do now? Pining after her was one thing. Could he really continue the way things were, knowing that his feelings were reciprocated? “I’m going to need to think about this,” he murmured. “Is that acceptable? I’m sorry, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting to hear that from you.”

Myra’s shoulders drooped. “Well, that’s not a complete rejection.”

“No!” he shot back. “No, not at all. I…I just need time.”

“Of course,” Myra said with a heavy sigh. “I won’t bring it up again. Not until you want me to.”

“I appreciate it,” Danse replied. “I...I think I need to take a walk. Will you be all right on your own?”

Myra nodded, her eyes downcast. “I promise, I’ll stay put like a good girl and not let any boys into the house. I’m sorry for springing this all on you, Danse. Like I said, I guess I just wanted you to know.”

“I’m not upset with you, Myra,” the Paladin said. “I promise.”

She nodded again, grabbing her pack and heading inside. “Be careful out there,” she murmured.

“I will be,” he replied, heading towards the lake. Danse’s mind reeled as he tried to process what had happened. She loved him? Myra actually loved him? How? Why?

He paced the shoreline of the small reservoir, watching the sunlight dance across the water like children at play. How had he not seen this coming? Yes, Myra wasn’t particularly subtle when it came to her flirting, but she flirted with everyone she was close with, men and women alike. It was just part of her charismatic personality. How was he supposed to know when she was teasing and when she was serious?

Besides, why would she ever be interested in him? Myra was the remnant of a lost world, familiar with a way of life Danse had only ever dreamed of. What could he ever offer her that would make up for everything that she had lost? It was absurd that she would have ever grown to care for him in that way. 

Yet somehow, over the past year, they had grown closer, had become more than just Paladin and Knight. They’d become true confidants, even friends. Hell, she knew almost as much about him as Arthur did. That in itself was incredible. So how could there be something more than that?

For so long, the thing he feared most in the world was dying in disgrace, or disappointing his superiors. He was an honorable man, a loyal soldier, a firm believer in the justice of the Brotherhood’s cause. But somehow, that had changed. There was something he feared more, a fear which had proven itself  in small ways countless times over their adventures, most powerfully at the airport the night she stood on that platform in the rain, her eyes begging him to offer her some words of comfort before she most likely would cease to exist.

The thing he feared, more than anything else, was living without Myra by his side. The time they spent away from each other had become a form of torture. He spent most of it worrying about her, willing her back to her rightful place beside him. All he wanted in the world was to love her, to support her in any way that he could. To know that she felt the same, that she was willing to sacrifice so much of what she believed in to be near him...it was beyond astonishing.

Danse wanted to believe that seeing this through was worth the risk. The road before them had never been an easy one, and if their relationship crossed the line into romance, things would only be harder for them both. The Paladin had seen both the good and the bad of relationships inside the Brotherhood. When things worked well, the bond between the two soldiers involved made them nearly unstoppable. But when things went poorly, whole squads were often torn apart in the aftermath. Worse yet, there was the constant threat of death on the battlefield that loomed over such a relationship. All too often, someone was left behind. Danse knew he couldn’t bear it if that were him. Would Myra be all right if she outlived him?

Perhaps it was better for things to remain as they were. Danse didn’t have to tell her how much he loved her just because she had confessed her feelings to him. The Paladin could still make the choice to protect her, to protect them both. He could lie, could tell her that he just saw her as a friend. Maybe she would struggle with the rejection at first, but in the long run, she would recover.

But Danse knew that was the coward’s way out, and he wasn’t about to compromise his integrity just to make their lives easier. Myra deserved the truth. More than that, if there was a chance that they could somehow make things work, wasn’t that worth risking everything?

Hours passed as the Paladin debated the correct course of action, and it was night by the time he returned from his walk, a bundle of nerves and excitement. He wasn’t sure what would happen when he talked to Myra, but he knew that if he put off that conversation any longer, he would lose his nerve. The Paladin left his armor just inside the door again, his eyes searching the small space for the woman he loved. She wasn’t in the kitchen, so he tried the sleeping area. She was sound asleep when he found her.

Her body was curved protectively in on itself, forming a gentle ball of Myra on the mattress. The young woman’s white hair was loose, tossed every which way like there had been an extremely small, localized windstorm at the head of the bed. Danse gently brushed a few thick strands from her slumbering face, softly tucking them behind her small, pale ear. “Myra,” he soothed, “wake up.”

She moaned softly, the corners of her mouth lifting into a soft smile as she responded to his voice.

Well, that did things to him.

“What is it, Danse?” she murmured, one eye cracking open to look at him.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he replied, “but I wanted to talk.”

“It’s ok,” she replied, wiping the sleep from her eyes and sitting up. “I was awake anyway.”

That was a lie, but he decided to let it pass. “Well, if you really meant what you said...I think I’m ready to talk about it.”

Myra frowned. “Are you sure? Last time we talked, you sounded like you were going to need a lot of time to think. I haven’t been in a coma, have I?”

“No. I…” Danse trailed off, his heart pounding in his ears. “I’m sorry. This isn’t easy for me.”

“I can see that,” Myra replied. “Look, if you’re going to tell me we should just be friends, I can take it. Like I said, I just wanted you to know.”

The Paladin shook his head. “That’s not...I’m not particularly great at expressing my emotions. I’m sure you’ve realized that by now.” 

Myra sighed. “You have a terrible poker face, Danse. I always know what you’re feeling, even if you don’t.”

“Then why do we even have to have this conversation?” He growled.

“Because it’s important,” she replied. “Because I might be reading into things too much, and I want to make sure before I do something we both might regret.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” he agreed. “I’ll be honest with you, Myra, I don’t know if I completely know how I feel about this…situation. But I do know that you are the most important person in my life, and I don’t ever want to be away from you, or see anything hurt you. I don’t know if that’s love or friendship or some other thing, but I know that whatever I feel when you’re close to me, it’s strong. So strong that it makes it hard to think about anything else. Does that make sense?”

“If you aren’t comfortable with this...”

“No. I am,” Danse interrupted. “I just… I haven’t cared this deeply about someone in a long time, maybe ever. And it’s terrifying to me. You know what the world is like now. We’re soldiers. Anything could happen to us in the field. One of us could die in an instant, or worse. I don’t know if I can live with that, knowing that I could lose you.”

“I understand how you feel,” she murmured. “I feel the same way. After I almost lost you at the Castle…” Myra’s eyes welled with tears. “If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Danse frowned. “Is it alright for us to feel this way, when we know it could put our lives and our mission at risk?”

Myra smiled sadly at him. “That’s not how love works, Danse. You can’t just choose to shut it off and ignore it, at least not easily. Once you’ve started to care about someone, to put their happiness above your own, there’s nothing you can do to take it back. All you can do is decide what to do with the love you have for them.”

“And what is it that you want to do, Myra?” Danse asked nervously.

She thought for a moment. “I…I want to see where this goes,” she replied softly. “I want to continue getting to know you, to keep spending time with you. I just want to be by your side as long as I can. Is that okay?”

He nodded. “More than okay.”

“Good.” She beamed up at him, a faint blush playing about her cheeks. “So,” she murmured, “can I kiss you now, or…”

He knelt down beside the bed to meet her, pulling her carefully into his warm, muscular embrace as their lips met. This was not the abrupt, spur-of-the-moment peck Myra had given him months ago. No, this was something wild and ravenous, a surge of sensation that kicked about his spine as she leaned deeper into him, pressing their bodies together. He had never experienced anything like it before, this feeling of connection, of unity. It made him long for all the times they could have shared this before, if only he’d known what he was missing. All Danse knew as he kissed her was that he never wanted this to end. He wanted to know every part of her, to share every part of him with her.

All the fear, all the doubt faded away as though she drew it out of him like poison from a wound. All that remained was peace, was hope, was the promise of a beautiful tomorrow with her beside him. Everything Danse had longed for for so long seemed finally within his grasp, and he could hardly keep himself from crying with the sheer joy of being so completely lucky. He’d never dreamed that Myra would actually be his to cherish. He couldn’t have begun to understand what that actually meant, not until this moment.

His mind was at once blank and filled with images of the road before them. Navigating the Brotherhood’s fraternization rules would be difficult, but not impossible. And once they were able to be open with their relationship, he would ask her to marry him. It wasn’t too soon for that, was it? Did he care if it was? He knew he wanted to be with her, and as long as she agreed, was there any benefit to waiting?

When the kiss finally broke, he pressed his forehead against hers, chuckling weakly. Her own laugh echoed his as they held each other close, rejoicing in the warmth of their affection for each other.

“I love you so much,” Myra whispered, stroking his hair.

“I love you too,” Danse replied, his heart racing. “I have for a long time now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked, frowning. “Danse, things could have been so much simpler.”

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t certain you shared the sentiment. I didn’t want to undermine our relationship.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” Myra replied with a smile, kissing him again. “I’m just glad we ended up here.”

“Agreed,” Danse murmured against her. “By the way, you asked me about my given name. Do you still want to know it?”

Myra nodded. “If you’re comfortable telling me, I really would like to know.”

He sighed. “Well, if we’re going to be...that is, if we are involved now…”

She laughed. “You make it sound like we’re caught up in a legal dispute, Danse. It’s not that bad. We’re just...us.”

“It will take me some time to adjust to this development,” he replied sheepishly. “I’ve never been in a relationship like this before.”

“Never?” Myra asked, startled. “But you’re a really attractive guy! I was sure all the Brotherhood women were throwing themselves at you. Hell, some of the men too.”

“I suppose that’s an accurate assessment,” Danse said, “though I think you’re overselling my attractiveness. But although I’m not exactly inexperienced, I can honestly say that I’ve never felt this...connected to someone before. Not like this, at least. So it seems only right to tell you. My parents, though what they were thinking I will probably never be able to comprehend, named me Tristan.”

Myra pulled away from him, her eyes wide. “Wait. Your name’s Tristan Danse? Are you serious? That’s ridiculous.”

Danse nodded glumly. “How do you think I felt, growing up saddled by that name? My parents left me nothing except for it, and I don’t even know why they chose it. If that wasn’t bad enough, there was another Tristan in the Brotherhood when I joined up who was extremely well-respected. It took me months to not react when he was mentioned. I eventually just dropped my given name altogether. It was easier that way, I suppose. Now there are only three people alive who know it. You, Arthur, and Cade.”

“And probably Quinlan,” Myra muttered. “Let’s be honest, that guy knows everyone’s secrets. But that’s not…” She chuckled nervously. “Danse, it’s just too big of a coincidence.”

“What is?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“It's just that my middle name is Isolde, after my mother’s favorite character in the King Arthur stories.”

He nodded. “It’s a lovely name. What does that have to do with mine?”

“Danse, we’ve got to get you to a library,” Myra replied, laughing. 

Danse sighed. Clearly, there was something he wasn’t understanding, not like that was a novel occurrence for him. But Myra seemed happy, and for now, that was enough.

“So,” she continued once her laughter died down, “can I call you Tristan in private, then?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” the Paladin replied. “Like I said, I’m not overly fond of the name.”

“Well, if we’re really going to…” Myra sighed. “I’d like to call you something other than Danse, I guess. It feels weird calling you by your last name when you kiss me like that.”

“Like this?” he mused, pulling her close and gently but earnestly pressing his lips to hers. He could feel her smile against him, and it made his pulse quicken. What a delightful sensation that was.

“Is that a sense of humor you’re demonstrating, Paladin?” she teased, her lips ghosting against his cheek. “You’re just full of surprises tonight.”

“I have been known to make the occasional joke, Knight,” he muttered. “You do not have a monopoly on frivolity, in spite of what you may believe.”

“Fair enough, Paladin,” she replied with a snort. “Seriously, though, do you have a middle name or something?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “But if you really feel the need to use my first name, I suppose I don’t find it quite so unbearable when you say it. It will certainly take some getting used to. Or...” he trailed off, his eyes distant.

“Or?” Myra asked nervously.

Danse sighed. “My friend Cutler. He always just called me T.”

Myra smiled. “T, huh? Well, it’s not exactly a sweet pet name, but I guess that suits you, doesn’t it?”

Danse nodded. It was strange, hearing Cutler’s nickname for him fall from her lips. But somehow, it seemed like an appropriate choice. After all, with the exception of Arthur, they were the two closest people to him. It was oddly fitting that they should call the Paladin by the same name. “I suppose it does.”

Myra pulled him closer, holding him tightly. “I’m so happy,” she murmured. “Just to be here like this with you is…”

The Paladin pressed his lips to her temple. “I can hardly believe it myself,” he replied. “If I could, I would just stay here with you forever.”

“That sounds perfect,” Myra said. She pulled away, easing herself the rest of the way out of bed. “Right now, though, it’s my turn to stand watch. You need to rest too. It’s not like you’re a machine.”

He laughed softly, capturing her arm and kissing her wrist. “Tell that to half of the initiates. I’m pretty sure Aspirant Reinhardt has been telling them I drink motor oil and don’t eat any real food.”

Myra grinned. “He would. Well, at least I know the truth. Good night, T. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Myra,” he echoed. “Please be careful.”

“I will,” she replied. “After all, I’ve got something to live for, don’t I?” She kissed him one last time before slipping out into the kitchen, Righteous Authority slung over her back.

Danse settled into the bed with an overwhelmed sigh. The sheets were warm and smelled of Myra, and he smiled as he wrapped himself in her comforting scent. Somehow, in spite of the battles before them, the Paladin finally felt like everything was going to be alright. With Myra beside him, her love surrounding him, there was nothing he had left to fear. For once, the Commonwealth could look after its own problems. In these last few stolen days, it was finally his turn to be happy.