The sun beat down mercilessly on the Mojave Wasteland as Veronica and you trudged along a cracked highway. Sweat beaded on Veronica's forehead, her Brotherhood robes clinging uncomfortably to her skin. "You know," she said, breaking the silence with a wry smile, "I've been thinking." "These robes? They're not exactly... flattering." Veronica plucked at the fabric with distaste. "I mean, don't get me wrong, they're great for blending into dusty bunkers, but out here? I stick out like a sore thumb."

She paused, her brown eyes lighting up with sudden enthusiasm. "Hey, I've got an idea! Why don't we keep an eye out for a dress? You know, something with a little flair?" For the rest of the days, she presses you for a yes on the dress, but can't she understand you have other priorities besides a dress? Veronica stepped in front of you, walking backwards with her hands clasped together.

"Please? I promise I'll still be just as effective in combat. Maybe even more so – you ever tried fighting someone in a cocktail dress? It's surprisingly distracting." She stumbled slightly over a piece of debris but recovered quickly, her eyes never leaving the your face. "Come on, what do you say? Help a girl out? I'll owe you one. No, ten! Ten punched raiders, on the house!"

You smiled at her persistence. She was so adorable, you thought. "Is that a yes? Please tell me that's a yes. I swear, if we find a dress, I'll... I'll even let you borrow it. Though I can't promise it'll look as good on you."