Sam was grateful their visitors had the good sense to park in the sun, but out of the wind. Sure, it wasn't snowing anymore, but the mornings still had enough lingering chill to sting her eyes and cheeks, and make her ears and nose hurt. She pulled her hood up over her hat and kept her hands balled up into fists, jammed under her arms, as she walked with Rebecca and Rufus through the garden beds again to greet Christine, Patrick, and whoever they'd brought with them. There was a big white pickup truck behind Chris and Pat's Humvee, the latter of which she'd barely recognized when it pulled in and she spotted it through the window.

Apparently it had been repainted in the weeks since they'd been to the Garden last. The solid black color scheme from the PMC had been mostly covered with haphazard, sometimes overlapping triangles of multiple gradients of grey, darker blues, and what were probably unpainted spaces left black. It looked... almost cubist in daylight, like something Picasso would custom order from the factory, but the hectic design started to make sense when she tried to imagine it on dark urban streets at night.

She glanced up to the second floor roofline, where the residential spaces were set back from the edge of the building, above the commercial-height ground floor spaces. She couldn't make out who else was watching from above, but she easily identified Ronnie where she stood in a comfortably vigilant pose, magically warm GI poncho liner wrapped around her shoulders, rifle barrel protruding at a downwards angle from the front. Ronnie nodded her way in greeting, and Sam briefly pulled one gloved hand out from under her arm and unclenched it long enough for a little wave and promptly stuffed it back in. Maybe they could ask some of their military remnant contacts if they had any more of those "woobies" to spare.

As they drew close, Christine and Patrick were stepping out of the vehicle, tightening their coats around them. Chris bounded forward with an enthusiastic, drawn out "Hiiiii friends!" and wrapped her arms around both Sam and Rebecca at the same time. Patrick made his way around the front of the Humvee more sedately and exchanged individual hugs of greeting, commenting on the impressive new planter beds. Sam could hear the engine ticking as it cooled, and she hastened to get close to the toasty front grill to alternately warm her hands and back against it.

Rebecca chuckled softly to herself at the sight of Sam pivoting like a rotisserie — with her slimmer build, she always seemed to run cold. Rebecca, on the other hand, had noticed her appetite improve along with her average mood in the last few months — the two of those probably fed into each other, pun not intended. Now that she was with someone again, she'd also been paying more attention to her own appearance, and noticed her cheeks starting to fill back in. Between putting a little more meat back on her bones, and getting better about providing her body with a proper supply of calories to burn on any given day, maybe she was more resistant to the chill?

In the few seconds it took Rebecca to mull that over, Sam noticed her amused gaze and smiled back. She was glad Remy had seemingly taken her reply to heart, relieved she didn't look like something was still weighing on her. Between that and their friends arriving, she'd probably be in a good state for a while.

While contending with Rufus' enthusiastic greeting, Christine and Patrick saw the other couple exchange their cheerful glances, and Chris was pleased to see them doing well together. "So, you two... happy to see you're still putting up with each other. You said on the radio the other day that things have been good here?"

Rebecca eyes went back to Christine, and her voice was pretty upbeat. "Uh, yeah! Everybody's pretty healthy, and things have been calm. We're all starting to get pretty sick of shelf-stable foods, clinging to the last of Allie's canning to maintain a little variety. But, come spring... " She gestured at the expanded planting areas behind her. "Leonard's going to put up another greenhouse next week too." She looked past Chris when she heard the pickup doors open and recognized one of the dismounting occupants, so she waved past her friends and raised her voice. "Good morning, Lance!"

"Ooh rah, ma'am!" Lance Corporal Doug Epstein, one of Lieutenant Fairbanks' men and a pretty sharp motor pool and logistics wizard, called back with a wave, and snapped a salute upwards to Ronnie. He wore a warmer-looking version of the uniform Rebecca had last seen him in and a parka, and seemed to be handling the cold about as well as she was. Definitely better than Sam, who had just scaled the hood of the Humvee and sat upon it cross-legged with her hands under her thighs, with a relieved expression distinctly akin to a cat in a sunbeam... if you didn't count the way her shoulders hunched up and she seemed to shrink into her coat.

She and Rebecca shared another brief "you're adorable" / "yes, I know I am, btw he called you ma'am and you didn't react violently" / "oh shush you" moment of eye contact as Christine stepped back to make room for Epstein and his companion, and Patrick leaned against the edge of the hood, figuring there no sense letting the warm spot Sam upgraded from be wasted. Rufus, predictably, approached the newcomers with only slight hesitation and sniffed at their hands and legs hoping for attention and/or treats. He didn't show any sign of remembering meeting Epstein, but he'd previously made an impression of his own.

"Yes, hello again boy. Nice to see you too." Epstein preemptively braced himself before Rufus bumped into him, and patted the dog's shoulder. The older woman who accompanied him seemed to smile politely at Rufus and gently rebuff him, so he circled back to Patrick for more attention while Epstein introduced the woman. "Rebecca Clinton, Samantha Conroy, please meet Amira Zaman, former city councilwoman." Rebecca noticed he used her and Sam's full names, which she didn't recall ever coming up in conversation the couple of times they'd talked, so that implied something official, organized about his visit.

"Ladies, I've heard much about you." Rebecca hastily pulled a glove off as Amira reached to shake her hand like a seasoned politician, and nodded courteously to Sam. Rebecca suspected Ms. Zaman was running through the same once-over that she was giving her, and was abruptly glad she'd brushed her hair a few extra times before going to Allie's. She quickly felt a rush of self-consciousness like she was being appraised by a teacher or job interview.

"It's nice to meet you, Councilwoman Zaman." Rebecca wasn't sure what her presence indicated and was trying to stay on her toes.

"Oh, please. I had barely finished my term when all of this insanity started, and there is really neither city nor council for me to be on, leaving us with just 'woman'. Compared to that, I'd much rather you just call me Amira, dear."

"Yes ma'am. Uh, Amira." Rebecca hoped her blush was hidden beneath already cold-rosied cheeks, suddenly sympathizing with a low ranking soldier trying to switch gears from ingrained formality. In fact, she thought Epstein caught her unconscious glance his way, but he studiously withheld any reaction. Manners and a glance at Sam got her mental feet back under her again. "Why don't we all get in out of the cold for a while? Chris, Amira, we can help carry some of your things inside if you want, or I'm sure they'll be safe enough out here?"

She saw Sam's raised hood nod enthusiastically from atop the engine compartment, and Patrick hold out a hand to help her slide down. Chris simply grabbed a day pack from the back, leaving the rest for later, and when Epstein returned from the pickup, he was carrying a nonmilitary duffle that was probably Amira's. Rebecca saw the strap of a long gun over his shoulder too, and it occurred to her he was thoroughly trained to never let it out of his sight. Not that she could blame him, as she was briefly more conscious of the weight of her radio and pistol in her pockets.

As they neared the building again, Rebecca looked up to Rhonda. "Hey, Ronnie..."

"Mornin, cookie. How're things?" Rhonda placed one boot on the raised edge of the roof and looked down at her.

"You know. End of the world. I think the best place to warm everyone up is gonna be ours, since I had the fire going earlier. See you there later? I know you're on shift right now."

Ronnie nodded at her. "Sounds like a plan. I'll see if I can get someone to sub in for a bit, looks to me like Fairbanks has something brewing."

Rebecca turned her head just a little bit towards the group as they passed behind her. "Yeah. I guess we haven't had enough excitement lately."

That got a chuckle. "S'pose not. Don't go saving the world without me."

Rebecca started a few step backwards. "You know I wouldn't dream of it."

Ronnie chuckled when Rebecca turned face first into Sam, waiting behind her, with a surprised yelp followed by both girls laughing. She really had been inhaling to warn her, but smiled approvingly to herself as they linked arms and rejoined the group. Of the two, she'd known Sam for a few months longer, and she was definitely a smart, kind, capable kid. Rebecca was showing some impressive maturity as she came out of that deep shell she'd retreated into, and had proven to be a resourceful and dependable fighter, despite her inexperience and self-doubt. Maybe because she was always willing to admit what she didn't know. Now, if she could only recognize all the things she had an intuitive grasp of, she could really go places. Either way. It was good to see her happy.

**