Rebecca was even happier when she finally was allowed all the way down the stairs and back up again. Sure, the garden and roof were outside, but not really. Her first loop of the compound with Rufus was such a relief that she spent another half hour throwing a tennis ball for him, until it grew unpleasant to touch and he was panting cheerfully.

To top that, the next day harkened the arrival of warmer weather trends she and Sam had been looking forward to. Another truckload had arrived and offloaded, and while she helped her mother and a handful of other residents sort the contents of a plastic cargo bin, she wore shorts for the first time in almost six months. All the compounded feelings of liberation were well worth dirty knees and a scuff or two.

As the sun continued towards its zenith, she'd rolled the sleeves of her t-shirt up to bare her shoulders. Not that she needed more ways to feel kinship with Sam, but there were definitely moments catching herself basking in a breeze-tempered sunbeam that nudged thoughts towards her girl.

She caught sight of Sam several times throughout the late morning, often hearing her voice guiding a commercial freezer on a pallet jack through a doorway or repeating measurements to Leonard as they cut metal piping and foam insulation sleeves. There was usually a lingering glance or smile, and in one instance, a blown kiss of distant acknowledgement and affection. Enough for Laura to definitely notice a trend.

"It must be nice knowing she's right there, not going anywhere, isn't it?"

Rebecca glanced back over, knowing what her mom was getting at. "Yeah. At least here, inside the wire."

"Wire?"

She wasn't sure if her suppressed urge to roll her eyes was at her mother's lack of context, or her own unconscious adoption of tactical jargon. "Sorry. Military speak, inside or outside the wire, meaning the boundaries of the safe compound or whatever."

"Ah, right." Laura nodded in appreciation as Rebecca handed her a sealed pack of hand towels and a bag of kids' socks from the bottom of the bin, courtesy of her longer arms. "The 'wire' that they seem to be trying to push outwards gradually and claim more safe space, given the checkpoints I saw under construction, and the signup rosters for guard training."

"Yeah, I guess that's the general plan. Along with this." She nodded down towards the container, but was distracted by the prickling sensation of being watched. At first she thought it was sharpened survival instincts kicking in, but then she recognized it as the lower-key sensation that every woman her age she'd asked about was familiar with after they'd been checked out enough times.

Her eyes flickered briefly over their surroundings, trying to consciously pick up on what her more primal neurology had alerted to. She spotted a couple of younger guys, new faces, glancing away just as she looked at them. She was going to brush it off and move on with her day, but heard just enough of their conversation to make out the word 'scar' as they carried their armloads of storage totes away.

She felt her mouth tic as she refocused and rolled her sleeves down self-consciously, tugging at the left's hem to make sure it was at full extension. Another near-sixth sense kicked in and she looked up at her mother. "What?"

"I hope you don't feel embarrassed about it, or like it detracts from your appearance." Laura looked pointedly at her shoulder, clearly implying what 'it' was.

Rebecca's mouth tightened as she reached in for another bulk pack of towels. "No, it's not like that. It's child's play compared to what the active combat vets here have seen — or what I could have ended up with, considering. I guess I just don't like the attention it brings."

"Or maybe that it tells someone part of your story without you having any say in it."

The shrink-wrapped bundle paused in Rebecca's hands as she thought her mother's insight over, before she passed it on. "That's... probably a good point."

"I'm sorry if my initial shock at seeing it made you feel like that too."

She shrugged. "I mean, it's probably fair to have a little freakout when you find out your daughter's been shot at."

"Rebecca." Laura gaped at her, appalled. "You don't have to be so blasé about it." Then, after a moment's pause, her expression turned contemplative. "No, never mind. Maybe you do have to be so blasé about it. So you don't drive yourself nuts."

Rebecca didn't particularly intend to use that as a coping mechanism, but it was probably true. "Probably. I guess we'll make a grizzled badass out of you yet, Mom."

She paused when a voice came over nearby radios and fished hers out to hear better. Lookouts were announcing the approach of a half-dozen pedestrians, a few of which were armed, but not immediately aggressive.

When she looked up at the fortified rooflines, she could swear she saw a flutter in the camouflage netting where the concealed gargoyle of a large machine gun faced the main gate. A bell echoed off the courtyard walls, three sharp pairs of rings that told anyone without a radio to go to a precautionary alert state.

Down at ground level, two soldiers hustled from under a pop-up tent to the big armored truck in its fortified parking spot opposite the entrance. Rebecca felt a slight pang of possessiveness as they hauled the heavy doors open and clambered in, rousing its grumbling diesel engine. Within seconds, the new, smaller — two-barreled? — turret panned left and right, then back to aim at the main gate again. She couldn't help wondering what was happening around the rest of the perimeter, but knew Ronnie's people would be watching their assigned sectors.

Laura arrived at her side. "Do we need to worry?"

"I won't jinx it and say no, but... not much with the numbers they described. Still..." Rebecca tugged her mother across the courtyard to their building, where Sam would be — as would all their gear. Just before they ducked in, she peeked carefully around the doorframe back at the gate. There was a lot of focused activity, but it was just that... focused, attentive. Not exploding into action, yet.

Her mind was racing with possible next steps. Finding Sam and Rufus was absolute number one. Then what? Grab a couple of generic M4 carbines from the small secondary armory? Head upstairs and get their personal gear on the way to the roof? Sam would probably tell her to take it slow while she dashed ahead and met her back at the stairwell. Probably smarter anyway, so her heart wasn't pounding while she was trying to cover Ronnie or anyone else at the gate.

She pivoted back into the hallway. A quick glance at Laura made her realize her mother was watching her intently, so she tried to unfurrow her brow and stopped chewing the corner of her lip. "Sorry. It's probably okay, but we just have to take precautions is all."

"Okay." Laura nodded, seemingly as convinced as she was going to get, so Rebecca led her deeper into the building as the sounds of closing doors echoed through the ground floor.

Rebecca appreciated the new lighting when she had to move quickly like this — some of the original fluorescent ceiling fixtures had even been rigged directly to the solar generation, sparing the batteries unnecessary load. She gestured upwards to distract both of them from their jangled nerves. "Look, it's like my girl's literally bringing the daylight inside. Meanwhile I just cook, join the neighborhood watch, and sort groceries."

Laura chuckled with muted enthusiasm behind her. "I'm sure it balances out. If you really want to embrace the whole 1950's housewife vibe, she probably appreciates the sitting around looking pretty too."

Rebecca huffed. At least if Laura was poking fun at her, she couldn't be too freaked out. Her eyes lit up when she saw Sam pop into the same central hallway as them, several yards ahead — any more than another few minutes searching and she was going to resort to her radio. Sam was already turning towards them, but Rebecca called out to her anyway. "Rosie! Hey. Is our boy with you?"

Sam closed the distance and wrapped her in a nervous hug. "Hi. He's upstairs, I dropped him off with Nate after his last pee so we could do some welding. Did you see any of what's going on outside?"

Rebecca returned the embrace with a reassuring squeeze that worked both ways — her own anxiety settled a bit too. "Not really. Just the garrison going on alert. I'm wondering if we should gear up. Seems like we should at least get upstairs while things are locked down."

Apparently this put words to an existing consensus, as they'd already all begun backtracking to the nearest staircase. This was the first time she'd seen the sandbag and wood checkpoint at the adjoining hallway intersection staffed, and she nodded their way past two familiar guys in worn camouflage fatigues. They were two flights up when she heard the door open again, letting Patrick and Christine's voices echoing up from below. Okay good, one more worry checked off.

Rebecca had just set foot on the fourth floor landing when Ronnie's voice came over their radios, bouncing weirdly from the concrete walls. Sam turned hers down and Rebecca hastened into the hallway so they could hear more clearly.

"All stations, this is Victor Three Six, priority. No immediate threat sighted. Unaffiliated civilians have approached the main gate. They are armed but not showing hostility at this time. All personnel and residents remain at threatcon Charlie and await further instruction."

Not that they'd ever been below 'Bravo' since Ronnie had introduced alert levels based on pre-apocalyptic US military 'force protection' measures. Maybe someday, but nobody was holding their breath.

Or maybe Rebecca literally was while she listened, because she let it out in a relieved sigh afterwards and felt the tautness in her upper back ease. She glanced back towards where she'd been holding the door open for Sam with her toe, and the appreciative half-smile she got was a welcome comfort.

**

They agreed to leave Rufus upstairs, knowing he would be a comfort to Nate and his mother during the tense wait for news. Sam muttered annoyances about not being able to kindle a cooking fire out on the balcony or use the kitchen sink because it was too close to a window, and took out her frustration on some laundry in the bathroom instead.

Balcony curtains closed, Rebecca had already dragged weapon cases out from under the couch and set Felicia propped up on bipod legs across the dining table. The slopping sound of a garment hitting the side of the bathtub made her jump slightly, but also prompted a small grin of amusement as she looked towards the hallway.

Laura watched her and the guns warily from the couch. "Does she not take well to being cooped up?"

"My money's on getting interrupted just as she was about to finish something really complicated. God help the people at the gate if she forgets what she was about to do next. Right, honey?" She knew full well Sam could probably hear them between splashes, but elevated her voice for the final words just to be sure.

Sam's answer echoed from the bathroom. "I know we're supposed to just hang out inside until things are cool, but I still have the access codes to that damned mech downstairs saved to the tablets! Assholes. Uh, sorry about the language, Mrs. C!"

Rebecca raised her eyebrows and inclined her head towards the hall in a 'See?' expression, and Laura chuckled with a conceding wave. "And then your nervous puttering, that's because you don't like sitting on the sidelines?"

"It's not—" Rebecca began an indignant protest, but cut it off when she realized Sam would undoubtedly join in remotely on calling her out. She sighed, and made her way to the kitchen to rifle through the pantry cabinet. Living after the apocalypse made it conveniently difficult to be an anxious snacker, though some of their warehouse conquests might change that soon. "Okay, fine. It's just weird after being on the front lines for so long, sitting back and having to let someone else do it for me. I mean, yeah, it's nice, but it's also really disconcerting."

Laura scoffed gently as Rebecca closed the cabinet and looked her way again. "Well, now you know how I've been feeling as a parent with you and Sam essentially adopting me the last few weeks, don't you?"