Sam peeked intermittently over Rebecca's shoulder at an email conversation with Dylan, listening to narration of the rest of it. Jack's little inclusion of a note specifically for her had been pretty touching, and she was disappointed that the airfield's resident nerd hadn't built enough storage into the mail server to support file attachments. Seeing the little guy's gap-toothed smile somewhere happier than that damned farm would have brightened her mood. How hard was it to find a USB stick or SD card and just plug it in?

There was probably some annoying limitation on the software side, beyond her usual realm, that precluded that. Or maybe he just had other problems to solve, more important than letting people send exchange goofy selfies or meme pics preserved from the collapse of the internet on their local devices. Come on though, that's a vital milestone for modern civilization.

On that note, apparently an ongoing debate raged amongst the various refugees. Some wanted to get a weed grow started at the former country club as soon as possible. Meanwhile, those who supported a desperate attempt at coffee production claimed it was a greater priority for what little labor and fertilizer wasn't immediately needed for food. Personally, she saw virtue in both arguments, addressing concurrent needs in the post-apocalyptic world. They should just shut up and focus on figuring out which plant's excess biomass made better compost for the other. Soil chemistry wasn't her thing, but she knew it was a thing.

Both seemed like they'd make a valuable trade good too. The day's excitement was a good example of how tight integration with remnants of the military was important in the near-term, but she was pretty sure a separate but coexisting ecosystem would be better in the long run. God knows how they were going to deal with concerns like equity between survivors who had hoarded cash under their mattress and those who weren't as well off beforehand, or only made it out with the shirts on their backs. But it was a fair bet everybody would be a lot less grumpy if their mornings were caffeinated and they could get high once in a while — there'd probably be a lot less shooting at each other.

Goals.

At least the afternoon drama had ended peacefully, even if Ronnie didn't fully lift their alert status. Getting to finish welding and pressure-testing the coolant lines for the fridges had been nice, as was being allowed out in the sheltered central courtyard again. The official announcement of strangers wandering up to their door looking for aid, and leaving peacefully again afterwards, seemed incomplete.

Rebecca clearly thought so too, as she'd resembled a meerkat looking around when they took the pup out an hour before sunset. Maybe that was an unfair comparison — it wasn't Rebecca's fault everyone taller than five-five looked like a beanpole to Sam. Regardless, Ronnie noticed the plaintive eye contact too and sent them a nod and shooing wave that seemed to imply she'd stop by later in the evening.

Sam's mental image stirred up a giggle that she worried about sufficiently muting in close proximity to Rebecca, so she stepped away and disguised it as a random sniffle as she poked at the drying laundry. One shirt had been hanging long enough for gravity to pull much of the water towards the bottom and was starting to drip, so she took it to the sink for another squeeze. She was still working on that when Rebecca spoke again.

"Oh, hey. They're apparently working on a separate solar setup across the street for the residential neighborhood, rather than tying it in with the airfield's."

Sam answered over her shoulder as she wrung the damp fabric. "That makes sense, both from efficiency and security standpoints I guess. Though, they lose the opportunity to pool batteries..."

"Maybe you can tell them that yourself then?" Sam glanced back with the slightest hint of a frown that faded when Rebecca continued without any sign of intended sass. "Landry and Dylan are hoping you can come take a look at the first bits and pieces."

"Technical term, huh?" Sam shook the shirt out towards Rufus to shoo him back out of where he'd hopefully followed her into the kitchen, and grinned impishly at Rebecca's mild glare over the laptop screen. "But yeah, I can do that if we figure out a way down there."

"Maybe next time Allie's getting a check-up. Sandy's been bugging them to get her an ultrasound machine with all the extra power floating around n— oh, hello."

"Hmm?" Sam finished hanging the shirt again — Why is the short person doing this? — and propped herself against the stool next to Rebecca's with an inquisitive lean.

"Apparently, they've rehabilitated one of the swimming pools, in a community center or something."

"Oh, nice. Though I can't help picturing Landry lounging poolside while Dylan fans him and Jack frolics in the pool. Talk about the good life."

Rebecca glanced up at her in amusement, then squinted back at the screen. "Yeah, I think she specifically is mentioning it as bait."

"It's working." Sam was self-aware enough to know she was totally falling for it. "Hey, if we tell your mom, is she going to have an entertaining freakout about a certain swimming outfit?"

Rebecca looked up at her again for a longer period of time and scoffed. "No, she knows full well I left it at home after the trip and I highly doubt she packed it for me. Is your joy of poking my buttons expanding to include her now too? I don't think she's ready for that."

Sam grinned apologetically. "Well, okay. I do still want to keep making a good early impression."

"Kiss-ass." Rebecca shook her head and returned her eyes to the computer. She seemed to just be staring at it thoughtfully though, as Sam could see she wasn't scanning the text. "Hey, do you remember what Tania said when a bunch of us went to the river in last year's final hot spell?"

"I remember Allie nagging me to not get burned since we're trying to conserve sunscreen, but no, that's the only mom treatment I recall."

"She said something about how Nate's physical therapist told her swimming would be a good activity for him. Keeping up muscle tone in his core and stuff. How much do you think it would blow his mind if we took him with us?"

"On a scale of one to when you crossed a couple of wires or I kissed you back, probably a solid seven or eight." Sam gave Rebecca a playful wink. "We could probably introduce him to Jack too and score double coolest-auntie points coming and going."

"Totally. Y'know, all the moms could meet up too."

"The only thing that would make it more perfect would be a functional Starbucks for them to bond at."

It was Rebecca's turn for a little teasing, and Sam saw it coming in the way her lips twitched when she thought of it. "I guess we know which side of the coffee vs. Mary Jane debate you come down on."

"Pfft." Sam dialed up some extra derision in her smirk and reply. "Like there ever should have been any doubt about that. Maybe if chocolate was involved. Now, whaddya want to do about dinner?"

**

Laura had retreated to her apartment for a bath to give the girls some time alone before dinner and rejoined them for a generally tolerable pasta dish with a few eggs on top for protein. After the pot and pan were clean, Rebecca insisted they could handle the rest, so Laura retired early in the wake of the day's commotion.

By the time Ronnie knocked and unlocked the door at their invitation, they'd long since settled on the couch with their knees touching. Sam had just nodded at a lantern and remarked on how much she appreciated pushing past the "go to sleep when the sun goes down" phase of rebuilding civilization.

That meant Rebecca was replying just as Ronnie entered. "You're not wrong."

"She usually isn't, but it's very positive sign that you accept it." Their weary-looking friend grinned as she leaned her rifle against the counter in its traditional spot.

"Yeah, well. She picked me, so that reflects well, doesn't it?" Rebecca leaned into the peck Sam placed on her cheek, which warranted a chuckle and shake of Ronnie's head. "So how're you doing, Mama Bear? Everything copacetic?"

Ronnie actually groaned, her gear creaking as she shifted in the bar stool where she sat sideways, arm up on the backrest and rolling her eyes. "Oh, god help me. Politics."

Rebecca smiled sympathetically, even though she still had open questions. "Just what you never wanted."

"Ain't that the truth. So, if all appearances are to be believed, a group of survivors found us, bitching about all the resources we had and how we were taking more to hoard."

"Oh, god." Rebecca shook her head, and Sam replied just after.

"Here we go..."

Ronnie nodded with a single dip of her chin towards them. "Right. My hunch is they noticed the convoy activity and followed the most recent one. We're keeping a tight eye on the perimeter and have two drones up watching for heat, especially since they disappeared into the clutter before we could get eyes on them from above. But if they were a plant, someone tuned them to just the right balance between not helpless and not threatening to avoid antagonizing my paranoia too severely."

The end of Rebecca's mouth quirked slightly. She was well-familiar with the sensitivity of Ronnie's survival instincts. "So what happened at the gate?"

"The PFC leading the outer team earned his stripe. Kept things calm enough that, even if they don't believe our pitch about doing it to help everyone, it didn't escalate. A couple backpacks of handouts didn't hurt relations any either. It would have been nice if he talked to me first before making the offer, even if I would have likely supported it."

"Did it sound like any of them were interested in joining somewhere?"

"Martins had enough sense to keep his mouth shut about other settlement locations, but to hint and probe about ways they could collaborate with us."

"And?"

"And," Ronnie sighed. "Unfortunately but not entirely surprisingly, they didn't even nibble. His impression, supported by what I eventually overheard, was that they're just a bunch of freeloaders, scrabbling to get their hands on whatever they can."

Sam slipped into the conversation briefly. "Any of the 'seizing private property' bitching?"

Ronnie shook her head. "Only a little bit, so small blessings. But they'll probably only get worse once we start searching storage units. Assuming your little nomad buddy and her gang haven't already cleared them out first. Fairbanks is too smart to broadcast our intentions over the air though, so it's not like we can ask unless they happen to wander by for a conversation."

Rebecca nodded. "Last I heard they were looping pretty far to the north, so it might be a while."

"Eh, whatever." Ronnie shrugged. "They'll figure it out. Even a quick flyover should give us a good idea if somewhere's been looted. How're all of you doing?"

"Alright, kinda killed our productivity for the day, but better that than anything else. Mom was a little nervous, Sam was mostly pissed." She was pretty sure the nearby quiet grumble supported that assertion, not disagreed with her.

"Fair enough." Ronnie looked pointedly at their personal arsenal, still staged on the dining table and chairs. "And you?"

Dammit, always with the inconveniently perceptive. "I don't know that I was freaked out per se, but it was... uncomfortable. Sitting on our asses inside, not knowing what was happening. But it wasn't just that." She took a deep breath and waved her hand around vaguely. "It was letting — or having to let, someone else deal with any potential fighting. Which, given the shit we're still catching our breath from makes no sense, I know."

Ronnie chuckled. "Ah, cookie. Sometimes you're so predictable."

Rebecca didn't bother arguing. She just simply sighed and plopped her chin in her hand glumly. "I know..."

Sam joined in the gentle laughter at Rebecca's expense and put an arm around her back, head leaning on her shoulder. "It's just part of your charm, we love you anyway." Rebecca smiled and nuzzled Sam's hair appreciatively.

Ronnie shook her head again, probably at both of them this time. "And now you know how I feel when I have to stand around in a command post listening to different teams on the radio, giving them orders without being out there leading them."

"That's practically what my mom said too. I mean, the first part anyway, I know it's different. Which makes sense since I was complaining about the same thing."

"Truth," Sam interjected, which drew Ronnie's eyes to her.

"So, we're back to hearing everything twice then? Maybe we should be glad there's three of us to work on her now, at least one of us can get days off."