Rebecca had been happy when a convoy pulled in two afternoons later, just before sunset, with almost all of the remaining solar panels. (Apparently some were being kept at the armory, which was being fortified as an outpost.) It was clear she wasn't getting her initial wish of being somewhere else for the anniversary of Jaime's murder, but... an imminent day of hard work to keep her busy... it felt like Allie had the right idea, as usual.

Yeah, there were times where she stopped to catch her breath and had to fight back surges of emotion that snuck up on her, but Sam was always right there when she stared in the direction of the drainage tunnel and sighed, always with the kind looks or hand on her back. Patrick, Christine, Leonard, even Allie seemed to be making a point of being nearby more than usual, but considerately didn't impose their presences directly.

When Rebecca regained her focus and was able to keep her thoughts to pleasant memories of their initial steps to make a home there — just the two couples trying to stay sane and safe while society burned around them — it made the aches more manageable. It felt good to be contributing to a legacy for him. At one point after Ronnie checked in on her (without it necessarily looking like she was checking in on her, but she was...), Rebecca frowned before going back to work, and wondered if the delivery's timing had been specifically planned. She wouldn't put it past Ronnie... or her and Sam, working together.

The weather was surprisingly pleasant — on a more lackadaisical day, mid-sixties would still have her lightly bundled. Today though, with the exertion of carrying panels upstairs, or hefting them up onto scaffoldings over parts of the courtyard, and using a manual ratchet wrench to tighten them in place, the cool air was downright comfortable on her bare arms after she rolled up her shirt sleeves.

Sam made an appreciative "welcome to the gun show" comment when Rebecca brought her a pair of panels at the next cluster's location. When Rebecca glanced down, she had to admit that her biceps were indeed looking better than they ever had, bracing the awkward load against her hip like that. But... she felt bad when she caught Christine's guilty glance at her scar when the couples gathered for lunch midday.

"You know what I miss," Rebecca mused, trying to change the subject in Christine's head. "Turkey. Like, sliced deli meat turkey. Smoked, honey roasted, pepper, whatever. And cheese. Just... gimme a goddamned sandwich."

It seemed to work — Chrissie glanced down at the uncovered bowl she and Patrick were sharing and made a face. "Churros, still hot, before they get all gross. Cinnamon sugar that got everywhere but and so damned worth it."

Sam scoffed when Rebecca glanced at her. "Coffee, duh. And guac. But not at the same time."

Rebecca made a mock gagging noise, then turned to Patrick. "What about you, Pat?"

He shrugged. "Watermelon, I guess."

The girls all looked at him in disbelief, and Rebecca laughed. "Watermelon, seriously?"

Chrissie rolled her eyes. "Oh god. Leave it to you to pick the easy thing. All you have to do is find some seeds and plant them. How is that a big loss to mourn?"

Patrick defended himself indignantly. "Where am I going to find viable seeds? And it's not like Virginia is prime growing territory for them!"

Rebecca laughed at their comedy act, smiling at Sam when she started laughing too. Tiring herself out and spending the day with friends was a good salve for the day's renewed ache around memories of Jaime. Time was just a construct anyway, right? Weekdays, weekends, they weren't really meaningful things anymore. It was just one day after another of staying alive, staying sane, and trying to chip away at improving their situation.

Sam noticed her smile and returned it, laying a hand atop Rebecca's with a subtle pat. It was packed with meaning, a small gesture to say "I'm glad you're okay", "I'm here if you're not", "You're important to me."

A handful of hours and several newly available kilowatts later, Sam gently encouraged Rebecca to stop looking for more physical labor to throw herself at, telling her she needed to save a little energy to clean up and climb all those stairs in the evening. They took their dinner up to the garden to sit by Jaime's memorial, and Rebecca was surprised when Ronnie joined them shortly after they'd cracked the seal on a bottle of wine. She even took a swig when they passed it over while Rebecca was telling a few stories about happy memories with Jaime.

As the evening grew late, Sam suggested they give Rebecca a couple of minutes alone, told Rufus to stay at Rebecca's side, and led Ronnie over to the small lobby area just inside of the interior patio's main door.

"Thanks for stopping by, it probably means a lot to her. It also makes it a little less awkward for me, just sitting here as the replacement."

Rhonda nodded. "Of course. I'm glad to see she's okay, more or less."

"If she wasn't a little sad, I'd be worried, right?" Sam glanced back into the courtyard, where she saw Rebecca sitting next to Jaime's memorial with her hand on the small cairn. "But, yeah. Today could have gone a lot worse."

"Seems that's a good baseline to hope for these days. A below-average level of shitty."

"Truer words, Sarge."

They fell silent for a few minutes and watched Rebecca, until she rose to her feet and shuffled over to the entryway. Sam held the door open and used the end of her sleeve to dab the corner of Rebecca's eye where some moisture lingered. "Hi, sugar."

Rebecca smiled halfheartedly. "Thanks for waiting, and for being here, you two."

Rhonda patted her on the back and Sam took her hand as they walked down the hallway. It had been a big project to winch a roll of industrial carpeting up to the roof and then bring lengths of it down one floor, but having even that roughly lain floor covering added much to the hospitality. Rebecca paused with surprise when Ronnie wished them a goodnight and opened a door that wasn't to the radio room.

"You moved up here, Ronnie?"

"Yeah, to be closer to the comms station. It's only temporary though, since it'll probably get relocated and merged with the garrison's."

Rebecca supposed it made sense, with Rhonda seeming to organically take on more responsibility — maybe even military command — around their settlement... but she hoped the growing role wouldn't take her friend and mentor away. "Okay. Goodnight, mama bear. Do you want the last of the wine?" She held out the nearly empty bottle.

"Sure."

Rebecca grinned impishly and slipped under Rhonda's outreached arm and hugged her tightly for a moment, then handed over the bait she'd used to lure her begrudging target. "Thanks for the company and for always looking out for me."

Ronnie laughed as she patted Rebecca on the back. "Nice move there. G'night, girls. Walk 'em home for me, Rufus."

Rufus wagged his tail at his name, and the remaining trio made their way to the stairs and down to their floor. Back in their apartment, Sam turned on a lantern and set the bag with the dirty food containers and utensils on the counter — they could wash them tomorrow — while Rebecca stoked the fire and conscientiously checked the CO detector. They stepped through their usual bedtime routine with few words, but both found the familiar domesticity comforting.

Sam picked through her sleepwear, initially picking up a warm flannel top, but had a second thought and traded it for something without fasteners — a thin silk thermal that she quickly changed into and followed with a pair of standard flannel PJ pants. She hopped into bed, nudged the handful of bedwarming bricks out from under the covers to thunk onto the carpet, and started pulling the covers tight along her outer side.

But, when Rebecca turned off the lantern and joined her, Sam reached out to coax her closer in the darkness. She gently guided Rebecca's head to rest on her chest — usually she was the one who ended up with her head on Rebecca's shoulder, but based on past behavior, Sam was starting to suspect Rebecca found her heartbeat soothing. She was hoping the silk shirt would make for better snuggling than buttons right in her face.

Sam spoke quietly, conscious that Rebecca's ear was right on her chest. "How's my girl?"

Rebecca took a long, deep breath that was more a release of energy than a sad sigh. "Thankful, grateful."

Sam kissed Rebecca's hair and twirled an exploratory finger through it. "Hmm?"

The arm Rebecca had draped across Sam's abdomen tightened briefly with affection. "For you, for Ronnie, for Allie, Rufus... everyone who's helped me. For the time I got to have with Jaime, for him keeping me safe, for at least being there when he died, him not being alone. For not having to carry that stupid gun anymore. And, for you."

"You said me twice. You like me that much?"

"Sure. But I didn't want to end the list on something unpleasant, and you're a good go-to for pleasant things."

"Aww." Sam lowered her hand from Rebecca's head to embrace her. "Ditto, sugar. Ditto."