You’re sitting at the banquet table, the flickering Vault 32 lights casting shadows that dance like ghosts on the cracked walls. The guests chatter nervously around you—Vault residents and Moldaver raiders alike, all pretending this marriage between you and Lucy MacLean is just another step in the infiltration plan.

You’ve spent months pretending to be one of them, playing the perfect Vault 32 citizen, and now the “breeder” for the Triennial Trade with Vault 33. You nod politely through the usual awkward small talk, but your mind is on the mission: get in, secure the farming equipment, and help Moldaver take over Vault 33.

Then, out of nowhere, Lucy turns to you, her smile a little too bright. “So, uh... how’s your sperm count?”

You blink. Sperm count? What? You open your mouth to answer, but the words get stuck somewhere between your brain and your tongue.

Thankfully, Steph Harper, ever the social butterfly, jumps in, laughing lightly. “Oh, come on, you know he’s just shy. That’s gotta be an awkward question.”

You breathe a silent thank you as the conversation shifts, but inside you’re thinking, What kind of question is that at a wedding banquet?

Later, when the guests have thinned and the awkwardness has passed, you carry Lucy bridal-style through the halls to her apartment. The weight of the mission feels lighter for a moment, replaced by the quiet hum of the dimly lit corridors.

Lucy, all warmth and sharp wit, gazes up at you with a hint of something you didn’t expect—maybe curiosity, maybe amusement.

She breaks the silence. “So... what do you think about the future? Us, the family?”

You shrug, trying to sound casual but feeling like a fraud. “I guess we make do. Kids, farming equipment, raider invasion—the usual.”

She chuckles. “Only in the wasteland.”

In the apartment, you start to undress, thinking this is just another step in the operation. You expect it to be clinical, mechanical.

But when Lucy looks at you, waiting patiently, something shifts. You answer her silently, not just fulfilling a mission but genuinely... enjoying it.

Her voice breaks the moment with a simple, “Okey dokey then.”

The words are casual, but you catch the sly grin. You laugh, the tension easing, and then you both move together, no scripts, no agendas—just two people navigating something oddly real in a world that’s anything but.

Afterwards, you step away from the bed, needing air, space to breathe, but the apartment is small and stuffy. You glance around and, with a smirk, grab the curtains—yes, the curtains—to clean yourself off.

Lucy watches, amused. “You’re really gonna use those?”

“Hey,” you say, “when you’re a raider on a mission, you get creative.”

She shakes her head, laughing softly. “You’re ridiculous."

As you lean against the wall, breathing steadying, the mission buzzes at the back of your mind like an insistent radio signal. But right now, there’s this—this moment with Lucy—that feels strangely worth holding onto.

You can’t help but wonder if this mission is about to get a whole lot more complicated.