I believe the term is....'Yahoo'?

-​

        “I’m sure Nate would find quarrel with me should I so much as even whisper your origin to my other comrades.” He was just a tad taken aback by how bold the synth doctor that he looked down upon had chosen to be this evening. Some nerve was certainly involved.          “If anyone was to sell you out it would be your own doing, considering your naivety.” 

To say Curie was surprised by his reticence to sell her out to his own brothers and sisters in arms would be an understatement. She hadn’t realized the bond between Nate and Danse was that strong, but she was glad for it. 

-​

He’d been in here for way too long. But initial search for a rare chemical agent hidden in the laboratory resulted in him getting locked in by that damn handy, and Nick Valentine was getting antsy. He’d been locked in pre-war ruins before, and it wasn’t something he was excited to repeat.

So maybe he wasn’t being the smartest when he came up behind her, pistol out– he didn’t recognize her with the lab coat from behind.

Nick barely dropped the gun when the top of that baseball bat hit his jaw and shoulder. Off center so he didn’t take the brunt of it, but the old synth still stumbled back with a fairly loud yelp.

“Hey, hey-- relax-! Curie, is that– ow. Is that you-?”

Oh. Oh no. Curie had already swung--and hit--the source of the footsteps she’d been hearing. It was too late when she’d realized it wasn’t a feral or a raider, but instead, a familiar face. 

“Mon dieu! Monsieur Valentine! I am so sorry, I did not realize it was you!” She let the bat drop from her hands, moving into check the damage she had caused. 

"Are you certain this is a good idea?” Curie questioned, voice soft. “I ‘ave heard this is feral ghoul territory. Unless this is to ‘elp clear them out for a settlement? Or--oh--perhaps we could study them, oui?” Now that got the synth brimming with excitement. 

“Unless you are in a rush?” 

Cambridge Polymer labs. Curie had heard of the laboratory in from a passing eyebot, it was only now that she’d deemed herself ‘prepared enough’ to check it out on her own. After gaining a(nother) lab coat and an extra set of glasses, she had decided--even after being momentarily locked into a cleanroom--that any possible danger was worth the possible prewar research left behind. 

Though, it was now, as Curie heard footsteps approaching that she raised a baseball bat she’d grown quite fond of, and raised it with both hands, ready to hit whoever--likely another feral--was prowling around the facility. 

“Are you....okay?” 

As timid or, more accurately, uncertain as the Miss-Nanny-turned-synth could be, she was surprisingly forward as she approached Danse. 

“I ‘ave a question for you,” She began, looking up at the Brotherhood of Steel paladin. “You know Monsieur Nate has asked me to accompany the two of you as well, oui? And I ‘eard you two are going to visit a Brotherhood controlled settlement. I need to know: are you going to sell me out as a synth or non?” 

-

Nick’s head was shaking before she even finished her first sentence. His hand squeezed hers a little tighter, drawing her a little closer in a sort of unconscious gesture of reassurance. “No, no– that’s not it at all. Curie, I’m– I’m always gonna be reminded of things I can’t have. But what’s the point of any of it if I can’t be with the folks I care about? I’d rather get that reminder every day than avoid you.”

And he already did anyway, every morning he didn’t wake up from a refreshing sleep, every time he looked in a mirror, every time he looked at his decaying hands. 

“I’m sure you will, Curie. …Don’t worry yourself about me too much, okay? I’m sure you got things more worth your thinking power.”

Her brows furrowed as she listened to him. Every word seemed so...depressing, only made worse by the fact that it was Nick’s constant reality. His day to day. While she had gotten an upgrade Nick had remained the same, and would remain the same until there was no way of continuing his stint of living on borrowed time. 

“I wanted to be sure. I want to assist with taking care of problems, not add to them.” She responded softly. 

For a moment she just studied him, as if trying to process what he was saying. Yes, she decided, she had heard him correctly the first time. 

“I am uncertain why you believe this to be not worth my ‘thinking power’, but you are mistaken.” Her tone was more firm than normal, and after a moment the synth caught herself. 

“That was, perhaps, a bit too aggressive.” She conceded, “But my statement remains the same. I want to worry about you.” She paused, shook her head, “That was phrased wrong, but,” Why was making coherent sentences so hard sometimes? “I worry about you because I care about you, and I will continue to do so. You are more than worth my ‘thinking power’ and helping you is considerably important. You are my friend and you ‘ave done so much to assist me in...well, everything I ‘ave asked of you, I must return the favor tenfold.” 

"Nick..." Curie searched for words that would offer comfort and not sound demeaning or echo what he'd likely heard before. "If being reminded of what you cannot have by 'hanging out' with me is too much, we do not have to do so. I do not want to 'rub sand in the wound'. Why did you never say anything before? I do not want to hurt your feelings."

It was a relief to have his blessing on attempting future repairs. The frown that had marred her expression was wiped away, replaced by excitement and relief. She was careful as she pulled her hands from his, instead throwing her arms around him, bouncing on her heels.

-

    It’s of no small feat that anyone is able to walk Travis’ general vicinity without the radio host startling but Curie manages. Instead of leaping out of his skin he gives a small lift of a brow. “Oh, it’s-it’s you. I’ve seen you before.” He titters a little dying chuckle high and pitched making a grab for dirty water glass in front of to keep his hands occupied. “Not that I’ve been uh, watching you or anything. Because that would just be weird.”

  Only it was weird.  “I-it’s just–it’s just that you look familiar. That’s all.” He stammers. And if the way she regarded everything with a sense of newness on a city built in pre-war history (or the simple fact that she hadn’t just let herself in as what felt like practical tradition in Diamond City) then the company kept pegged her as hard to miss. 

   He clears his throat, jerkily rising from his seat his head sending a few loose papers fluttering to join more on the floor while his head comes dangerously close to thumping against the trailers low ceiling. “Hi. Yeah. Yes, I do have time. To spare…  sorry about the mess.” 

The host acts like he sounds over the radio: a bit here and there, scattered to a degree, or at least frazzled. Curie takes a moment to study the contents of the rusty trailer with contemplating hazel eyes, before they finally settle on the man behind the station himself. 

He’s...tall. Internally, she’s cringing at how that’s the first thing she notices about him. She’s a scientist, initially programmed to be able to take in and note a nearly endless number of even the smallest quirks and details in seconds, but now she was stuck on...’Tall’. 

“You ‘ave ‘seen me before’?” Curie repeats, caught off guard that anyone would really notice her other than the direct company she keeps. “Apologies, I cannot offer the same to you, I ‘ave only heard you on the radio. I hope that does not offend.” 

A slight smile, she hopes it doesn’t appear awkward. “I assure you, I have seen worse messes. You would not believe what places my friend takes us on our travels.” Her voice lowers, almost conspiratorially, “And they even take some of the garbage from those places and put them into their bag--and mine--on purpose! A few papers is a drastic improvement.” 

Just because she now lives--and even breathes!--in a post-apocalyptic world, it doesn’t mean she will forego the manners that seemed so important before the bomb was dropped....though she may be a tad late in officially introducing herself. 

She extends a hand, with the corners of her mouth curving upward a few degrees more. “I wanted to officially introduce myself, since I ‘ave only heard you on the radio. My name is Curie, and it is a pleasure to officially meet you, Monsieur. I was merely hoping to learn more about you and this radio station.”