These days I try, and these days I tend to lie.

“Family?”

Oh well, shit, okay then. Good thing he hasn’t laid down the flirting too much. It’s rather easy for Amir to forget that most people, who haven’t lost their families, still remain in touch with them.

“Haha, tedious? You White Gloves never take the polite pants off. It sucked, you can admit it.” Amir chuckles, kicking a piece of rubbish from his path as they walk down the side walk. “I’m glad too. Smartest decision I ever made, honestly.”

He turns, ready to shoot Nigel a shit eating grin, when the other pants him on the arm and offers to loan him books. More than likely an offer to coax some favor from him. Not unlike what he’s been doing with his compliments. But, well, that’s alright too. The thought of enjoying something once forbidden to him sounds awfully appealing.

“Aw, you’d do that for me Nigel?” Amir grins more sweetly, swatting the other’s arm in a purposeful display of affection. Their walking has led them to the shop now, and so he has to take a moment to unlock the door. Which takes a while, given there’s multiple locks to undo. Can’t be too careful. “I’ll be extra careful with ‘em. Think I’d enjoy science fiction but whatever, you’re the expert.”

He holds the unlocked door open for his guest before trailing after him. He switches the light on so they can see what’s in front of them, but quickly ushers Nigel to the back of the shop before he can examine the wares too much.

Contrasting with the decadent atmosphere of his store, Amir’s living quarters are surprisingly quaint. An all-purpose room, neat and tidy, and a storage room next door that hosts boxes of supplies. At the center of the supplies, lying on the floor, is the Power Armor. The suit is worn from age and use, but clean and polished. Amir gazes over it with clear affection.

“Beautiful, ain’t it?”

“Ah, yes!” Nigel claps his hands together excitedly. “I’m actually the second oldest of nine siblings. I spend most of my free time helping to care for my younger brothers and sisters.”

He presses a hand to his cheek and smiles, shaking his head. His face flushes a bit from that swat to the arm, but he presses on and tries to ignore it. “Ahaha. well. To put it in your own terms, I am sorry to hear how much the Brotherhood sucked. At least you’ve found yourself in more...civilized surroundings since then. I’d be more than happy to share literature with you.”

Once they reach the door to the shop, Nigel holds up a hand by the frame of his glasses discreetly as he walks. Just being here is enough to make him want to cover his face and hide for a week, but it wouldn’t do to retreat from a meeting with a new acquaintance. Part of him wants to stare, to try and figure out what each product does, but that would be worse.

Curse his good manners.

“Ahaha, well, I think it’s really quite sweet that you take care of your father! I’ve been taking care of my own family for…goodness, I can’t even remember how long…certainly when I was younger than you.”

“Niiiiiiiiiiiiicoooo, I’m a terrible person and I need…I need to stop doing this, don’t I, I need to stop doing whatever ever it is that keeps hurting everyone I love without even meaning to.”

Gio buried his head in his arms and let out a muffled sob as he muttered something incomprehensible; Nico nudged his half-empty glass out of his reach and patted his back sympathetically. What else was there to do now, but to let him get everything he’d been bottling up out?

—–

“Ahaha, I’m…ah…well, I mean, oh goodness I’m so sorry, I’m just so bad at this…” Nigel rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile and tried to ignore the flush creeping up his face, finding himself suddenly unable to make himself meet Ivan’s eyes.

Oh, well, that’s a tremendous disappointment. Amir was genuinely excited at the thought of them sharing that in common. But, well, he supposes it’s not that important. Nigel isn’t an imbecile at least, though clearly guillable. And he still wants to see the suit.

“Well you know, ain’t nothing wrong with just enjoying shit for the sake of enjoyin’ it you know?” Amir grins as he puts down the caps for their bill and a rather ungenerous tip. Wine before and during dinner has left his tongue too lose to care about swearing anymore. “Back in the Brotherhood they make sure ya don’t learn anything that can’t be applied. Everyone gets educated, gets a job, gets to work for the preservation of humanity. For the Brotherhood~”

Amir says with sneering sarcasm as he pulls up from his seat and waits for the other to join before heading out of the Gourmand.

“We weren’t encouraged to pleasure read. So, uh, fiction ain’t my well of knowledge.” Which is a shame, since he sure loves to hear himself talk. “What’s your favorites? Maybe I’ve heard the titles.”

“That’s very true. And living on the Strip has given me the luxury of some more free time to enjoy my hobbies than I would have been afforded otherwise...” Nigel smiled and tilted his head a bit as he stood up himself. “Not to say that work and family obligations doesn’t keep me inordinately busy, but...well. What’s life without a little fun in it?”

Nigel presses a hand to his cheek and schools his face into a look of surprise and concern. “Goodness! Well, the Brotherhood certainly sounds...tedious. I’m glad that you managed to make your way here to us, instead. I can’t imagine life without my books.”

Okay so, Amir probably shouldn’t laugh at a guy he’s trying to brown nose, but Nigel’s nervous chuckle gets a bemused one out of him. How anyone can be so prudish in the capital of sin is beyond him. But that’s fine, he’s not here to make the other uncomfortable. He leans back in his seat and throws a casual hand wave at him.

“You gloves really are the prim and proper types, ain’t cha? My bad–I mean, I’m sorry.You get use to talkin’ casual about that kinda thing when you’re me.” Hopefully, whatever distaste Nigel has for his business won’t be enough to stop him from coming. “How ‘bout you and I enjoy dinner, and you can decide if you’re up for it? I’ll treat ya.”

—

Holy shit. A treat doesn’t begin to describe what Amir just consumed. The salesman lounges happily in his chair, feeling like he might never move from it. If the steak is always this delicious, he almost wouldn’t care if the rumors were true. But of course they’re not.

“Soooo… How’re you feeling over there, Nigel? Up for an adventure?” He wonders if the shorter man is going to get all flustered again. “Honestly, I don’t meet a lot of people who give a shit about robotics these days. You actually surprised me sayin’ you’ve read up on it. No offense, just doesn’t seem much a White Glovething.”

Nigel can’t help but feel a sense of pride over how well he’s handled this entire encounter. There have been moments Amir’s flustered him--god, he wishes he’d just stop talking about his shop--but he still managed to suss out what the other man had wanted and impressed him while still letting it seem like the merchant had been the one to drive the conversation. All in all, there are messier ways to end a meeting.

“Ah...perhaps. I will admit I am curious to see the armor.” He smiles and reaches up to adjust his glasses, letting out another chuckle and glancing to the side as he tries not to let himself recall exactly where this adventure of theirs will take place. At least he’s not as flushed as he was earlier this time.

A world he was, you know, unceremoniously banished from. A detail he’s sure Nigel won’t mind if he leaves out.

“But I spent a lil’ time in New Reno ‘fore comin’ here, so it wasn’t too bad. Believe it or not that place is even crazier than the Strip. All the vice and glamor without those neat Securitrons keepin’ things tidy. But I was ready for it. The Brotherhoodwas a little hindering for my tastes.”

Thankfully to eveyone within hearing proximity of Amir, the salesman’s rambling tapers off as he mulls over his thoughts.

“You know, I actually came by the Luxe to finally try your fine cuisine. Sooooo how about we continue this lil’ chit chat over dinner? And after…. I'll show you my armor. Hell, I’ll even let you try it on if you want! You’d love it! There ain’t a feelin’ like it in the world, Nigel. Bein’ encased by steel and raw energy…”

He shudders thinking And he’ll have no idea how to operate it, so Amir is far from worried about it being snatched.

And...ah. There it is. Likely what Amir wanted from him from the beginning. As tempted as he is to draw out the idea of dinner just to see what would happen, there is something to be said for coming off as gullible. It suits him, really. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s hungry and curious about seeing that armor. Who wouldn’t be, really?

“Hm, well, I am a bit peckish myself. I didn’t really have time to take much of a break today...”

Well, he took the news better than Amir suspected he might. Didn’t tell him to fuck off or nothing! He looks plenty embarrassed though.Aw.

“Come on, I’m sure it’s plenty interesting, Nigel.”

Considering the certain things people say about White Gloves, and especially about those from the beginning. And to think one of them oversees every bite of meat swallowed in their ritzy restaurant. That’s just funny. Amir has to exert a good amount of self control not to let out a snicker.

“And… yeah, I’m pretty good with it. Use to be my specialty.” There’s a hint of longing in the salesman tone, and a frustrated furrowed in his brow. That was before he learned about caps, and the way people spend them to satisfy their vice. He doesn’t let himself get too caught up in those thoughts, though. “Buuuut that was back when caps didn’t matter. Caps weren’t a thing. Now they really matter, you know? But I grew up in the Brotherhood of Steel in Hidden Valley. M’sure you’ve heard of us.”

He throws Nigel a wink as he orders another martini.

“But I bet you’ve never met one of us. If you like robotics you outta see the armor.”

Nigel takes another small sip of wine and smiles. Honestly, he would rather keep Amir talking about his own interests. Because as nice as the compliments are, he has to remind himself they’re likely as empty as they are distracting.

No sense letting himself get hung up on them.

He presses a hand to his cheek and widens his eyes just a bit. “Oh my! Coming to the Strip must have been quite the adjustment for you. And no, you’re right, I’ve never met anyone from the Brotherhood before. That sounds far more interesting than where I grew up.”

Well. That one’s not much of a lie, really. It really does pique his curiosity. He downs the last of his wine and absentmindedly orders another, fully intending to drink this one more slowly.

“Yeah? Good!”

Because Amir has already flagged the bartender’s attention, and quickly explains that the next beverage of Nigel’s choosing will be on his tab. That’s right, he’s got a tab, he’s a regular. Not some poor schmuck whose had to scrounge just to get on the Strip.

The White Glove might not care about such minute details, because he might not be a snobby asshole like Amir. He’s still going to take every opportunity to impress him.

And he might really need to, because now Nigel is inquiring about his business. Oh, well, maybe he should have waited on that one. Not everyone takes to what he does for a living the same way. And this bashful little man is a bit endearing, but could also be a prude. Nothing ventured, nothing gained he supposed.

“I… run an adult entertainment business by Vault 21. It’s eccentric, if we’re bein’ frank. S’not what I thought I’d be doin’ with my life. But the money is fantastic.” Amir polishes off his martini. “And it allows me to be creative, use my robotics background a little. Plenty to love about that.”

“And what ‘bout you, Nigel?” Amir tilts his empty glass towards him. “How’d you wind up in charge of… supply management? S’important job there. They wouldn’t put just anyone in charge of that.”

Nigel can’t help but smile from behind his wine glass as he raises it to his mouth to take a sip. It’s always a nice feeling to have someone scramble to impress him. It doesn’t happen nearly as often as he’d like. He can’t help but feel a little sense of pride in that.

So of course that meant that something just had to throw him for a slight loop. He nearly chokes on his drink when Amir mentions what he does for a living, but recovers as quickly as he can and rubs the back of his neck. Of all the jobs he could have listed, it just had to be something like that.

“Ahaha, well that’s an...interesting line of work.” He takes another sip of wine and tries to fight down the blush he can feel rising in his cheeks.

Luckily, there’s a better topic of conversation to seize on. “Ah, well, I can’t say it’s that interesting of a story, really. I’ve been with the White Gloves since the beginning.” He smiles and gives a little shrug. “I suppose Majorie felt I would be suited for the position, given the fact I’ve always been a bit of a people person. There’s a fair bit more paperwork than I’d like lately, but it does let me travel on occasion. I consider that a bonus.”

Amir sucks a bit of pear juice off his thumb as he feigns interest in whatever it is this man is saying. Once he mentions that theyreceived a fresh shipment today, he no longer has to pretend. His smile widens as possibilities flash through his mind. If Nigel was sitting any closer he might see dollar signs in those eyes.

“Am I enjoying this? It’s untouchable. There ain’t a finer bar in the West, probably even the entire country.” The salesman takes a poised sip from the glass rim. “Shame you’re not interested in a martini, ‘cause I was just about to offer to buy you one. I mean it’s the least I can do. Your society makes this magic happen.”

And what better way to prove he’s a distinguished gentleman worthy of White Glove benefits than dropping caps on one?

“If you’re set on drinking wine, you can consider the second glass on me.” He takes another, more generous swig from his own, as he studies the small man up and down. “Amir Kapoor. Entrepreneur. Now, what can I call you?”

Nigel smiles and leans his cheek on his palm as he listens to Amir speak. He registers the wider smile when he mentions the shipment of pears, and his own stays fixed in place.

Ah. Between that and the flurry of compliments, this one certainly seems obvious in his intentions.

He reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair back into place and glances away in the most sheepish way he can manage. “Ahaha. I’m glad that you can appreciate this place for what it is.” He looks up again. “We’ve certainly put a lot of pride into making the Ultra-Luxe the best of...everything, really.”