"How could I possibly refuse," he answered, agreeing to cook for them. "I'm not the best cook, but I'm not horrible. A couple steaks shouldn't be rocket science." He quirked an eyebrow at her, then added, "I hope."

He watched her run her fingers through her chestnut hair, once again thinking that; he was glad that they'd met. He checked to see if there was any gas in the oven. No luck. But it wouldn't take long to set up a fire. There was easily enough materials to do so, just in this building alone. After gathering some broken pieces of concrete, he made a circle on a flat panel of metal, then started loading up scrap wood.

"Tell me more about yourself, Mr Issac. You seem to know plenty about me."

"Hmmm, where to start?" Isaac said, squatted down at their makeshift fireplace. "Was a vault dweller once upon a time. Grew up in a small colony of about two hundred people. A few friends, school... mother worked as a mechanic. Father died when I was pretty young - cancer. Life was alright though." His memories flooded back as he scratched out some sparks on his flintsteel. Sure enough, they had a fire going. He looked up at Zara and grinned - an expression of mischief to thinly viel his sadness. "I fucked it up," he told her, before hiding his face once more as he sorted out the steaks. "Broke the rules so badly that me and my mom were exiled. We got attacked the second we left the vault. Mom saved my life but lost her own in the process." He shook his head. "Shit - that's the wasteland for ya."

When he was certain he had control of his emotions, he was looking up at Zara again, two skewered steaks being held over the fire. He'd somehwat forgiven himself for getting his mother into that mess in the first place, but it still wasn't nice to talk about. He'd become numb to killing and death over the short few years he'd been out in the wasteland. It was so ordinary. One day it would happen to him.

Still... his mother never knew that. She didn't get a chance, out here.

Zara looked up at him as he spoke, finding a good little spot to settle her body down for a rest. She was so happy that he was opening up to her, telling her about his past. She was shocked to find out that he was a vault dweller. They still had active vaults out there? How many of them were unopened, unaware of how messed up the world was now? She shook her head, her mind going to the impending genetic fuck ups that would be coming out into the world to play. How many untainted items they were hiding in their vaults? Maybe they could travel to his old one, and see if it's still sealed up or if they left it.

Detecting the slight change in his voice told her that he still felt some sadness and guilt over her death. He felt responsible for it, at least somewhat. She scooted herself over, placing her hand on his lower back gingerly. She knew what it felt like to lose a family member and be blamed for it. "I'm sure she doesn't blame you, she did what any loving parent did. She protected her young." She told him softly as she rubbed circles onto his back, letting him know she was there if he wanted to talk about it more. Sometimes just knowing there was someone to talk to made it easier to manage, even if you didn't actually talk.

"Were you the only child or were you plagued with siblings too?" She inquired, figuring she'd make it a bit more positive. It could be a positive topic or another dark one. Would he be missing his siblings? Were they passed on as well? She hoped he was fine with that question.

Isaac had never thought that his mother would blame him, but he appreciated that Zara was kind enough to say it anyway. He glanced at her in between watching the steaks, as she added that his mother did what any parent would have. "Yeah, she did," he agreed. "She was a badass, alright." And for every life he saved or town he protected, his mother's sacrifice would mean a little more. "Where do think I get it from?"

He kept a slow and steady rotation of the steaks to get an even cook. A frying pan and some animal fat would've gone a long way to a better meal but Isaac had been distracted by the conversation. Plus, he'd never been a fussy eater so his cooking was pretty bland.

"No siblings," he laughed. "Am I lucky or something? Is it that bad?" he asked, bouncing the subject of conversation back onto her. "What was life like for Zara Singh in the beginning, huh?"

Zara shook her head as she watched the meat being turned. She could see about grabbing them a pan or two in the following resource hunt they did. "No clue about siblings. I didn't have any when I was just a kid, though I'm not really sure if my mother did have more. A farmer and his wife adopted me at a young age. They had no children of their own and they told me that my mother was unable to care for me. She was a drifter as well, though from what I hear, not a very successful one. When I was about 8 years old, I had been snatched up by the Diamondbacks, so I really have no clue. It was not a fun beginning, it has not been a fun life. I don't remember having any good or fond memories. Even life with the farmer and his wife was difficult." Her tone was one of desolation, though she shook her head.

"I intend to give any children I have a chance at happiness. At joy and to actually laugh. I may not know how to be a kid, and I may have lost my chance to do so, but I do intend to give the next generation a bit of hope." She tried to turn the topic into something less bitter tasting. Hope for the future was always something pleasant to have. She did wonder when she'd be willing to have children though, as birth control was not exactly common place in the wastelands.

Drifters leaving their children in settlements was not an uncommon tale. Life on the road was hard, even for an adult, and there was always some sterile couple in a village or town who wouldn't mind raising adopting a child to call their own. How life had turned out for Zara, she might have been better off being raised as a drifter, but who could know? Maybe she wouldn't be alive today if her mother hadn't given her up to the farmers. The wasteland was a harsh place, no two ways about it.

Oh for fuck's sake, she's talking about having kids, change the topic Isaac! was the blaring emergency alarm ringing out in his mind.

"Well, maybe 'missing out' means you at least know what not to do, right?" he offered as some consolation. Damn it, asshole, for the love of God, change the topic! "But hey, you're a free woman now. There's gotta be a bunch of stuff you wanna do first, before you tie yourself down." New York didn't exactly offer a wide variety of extra-curricular activites but still... "You got any ambitions or goals? Taste some good food, learn something, see a sight, anything like that?"

When the food was done, he killed the fire, grabbed his eating-dish and spork from his backpack for her. "Dinner is served," he said with a grin as he handed it over. He ate his own right off the skewer, using his combat knife as an eating utensil. Pretty drab as dinners go, but it was quite cozy for him, who was used to eating alone and entertaining himself with his own thoughts.

"How is it?" he asked after a few bites. He silently made a bet with himself on wether or not she'd lie politely and compliment his cooking skills.

Zara tilted her head curiously as if to judge if he would be a good candidate for her children in the future. He was attractive enough, for definite. He seemed caring enough as well, but would it be a good fit? This wasn't something she needed to consider at any time in the near future. They had only kissed once, or twice, for heavens sakes. Did that second hasty kiss count? She wouldn't minded to bare his children some time in the future, she just hoped he'd be agreeable as well.

She was lost in thought, not hearing his questions until he handed her the dish and food. What had he asked her? Why couldn't she focus on the moment? Why must her mind always wander off like that? "I'm sorry, I kind of spaced out there for a moment. You asked me something and I completely did not hear it." She blushed nervously and began to eat the mole rat steak.

"For having no seasoning on it, this is actually very good. I'd like to see what you could do with a fully stocked kitchen and more than a firepit to cook over. You must show me one day, when we get somewhere to do so."

Wow. No lying, but still got a compliment. Best of both worlds. Isaac was left quite surprised and pretty proud of himself.

"...I'd like to see what you could do with a fully stocked kitchen and more than a firepit to cook over. You must show me one day, when we get somewhere to do so."

Speaking of lying, he may or may not have gone a little overboard when he started talking himself up. "Oh yeah," he said to her. "I'd be happy to. I could probably whip something up real nice if I had a kitchen. I'll be sure to do you something special when we get to Liberty Heights." On second thoughts. "If Katie lets me in her kitchen anyway. She's an avid cook herself. When she's not blowing things up."

He chuckled and went back to his food, occasionally sharing a smile with Zara in comfortable silence. Near the end of the meal, he decided to try again with the question she'd missed ealier.

"I asked you before; Is there anything you want to do? Or anything you like doing? Something you got good at during your free time with the raiders?"

You could often tell a lot about a person from what they did in their free time. Not always, but often enough that Isaac usually asked when trying to get to know someone. He finished the last of his food and then rested his head on a hand as he looked at her. It was so pleasant simply to look her in the eyes. Now that they were on way-more familiar terms, he didn't need much of an excuse to lose himself in that incredible green gaze. Zara Singh was a stunner, no two ways about it - her eyes were just the start. Lips a natural ruby red, straight nose, good skin, gorgeous neckline, great body... Isaac decided, then and there, he'd risk losing that eye and shoot his shot later.

Zara blushed a bit when she noticed he was studying her. What was he thinking? Was he sizing her up too, the way she had been? No, men didn't think like that. Men thought of the here and now. "What I want to do and what I like doing are complete opposites of the scales, I believe. I've always wanted to travel to the various settlements and help them rebuild. After seeing the devastation that the raiders do to the smaller and already struggling settlements, I want to help build them back up. Whether it be helping them build homes, fences for Brahmin or radchickens, or just helping them replant their crops. Of course, I'd ask for services rendered in return like a bed to sleep in or weapons to be cleaned and stocked." She explained to him with a small shrug of her shoulders, finishing off her steak and stretching out so she was laying beside the firepit.

"What I have been doing is mending clothing, building defences and shelters for the ever-growing populace of the raiders. Servicing them as they saw fit too was another. When I did have the odd free time, I was sewing and training my face to face. So I have skills in that department too. I can't hit the broad side of a building with a gun, but I sure can take you out with my fists." She smirked as she looked up at him. It was nice to have some downtime, to get to know him and talk about things of a better nature.

She shifted so she was on her belly and looked up at him. "What about you, bunker boy? What would you be doing if scavenging for a living wasn't a necessity? Besides shooting a gun and making a flavourless steak taste decent, what are your hobbies?" She inquired, allowing him unhindered access to look into her eyes.