Landry led their little caravan down a smaller branching cul-de-sac and pulled into the driveway of a modestly sized but cozy looking single-story house. It wasn't quite identical to all of the neighbors, but common themes and materials gave no doubt the entire neighborhood was built by the same developer. The pastel yellow color and arrangement of the peaked rooflines did set it apart from the robin-egg blue cousin next door, but they had the same manufactured board siding and perfectly round pillars.

The other houses didn't have an incoherently enthusiastic kid bounding off the porch though, mop of blond curls flying wildly behind him even if it had been trimmed a bit since they last saw him. Rebecca expected Jack to beeline for Landry, what with the formative signs she'd seen a little over a month ago. She was just as surprised as Sam was when he cut through the straggly but regrowing line of small shrubs and almost knocked the redhead back into her seat.

"Oof!" Sam staggered, then returned his hug. "Hey, Jack. It's good to see you too."

"I missed you! I didn't know if you'd remember me." He stepped back only to throw his arms around Rebecca's waist — though she noted it there wasn't nearly as much tackling involved. "Hi Rebecca, and Rebecca's mom!"

She saw movement from Sam and glanced up just in time to see a fully-formed tear wiped away with sheepish embarrassment. Rebecca gave her a lopsided smile and sympathetic head tilt, then patted the boy on his back. "Hi big guy. We missed you too. Have you taking care of your mom and ol' 'Nick' while he's on the mend?"

"Duh. But she's still making me do math homework, can you believe it?"

Rebecca chuckled. "Well, I know it's boring, but Sam had to do all kinds of math so she could build and play with robots. You should ask her about the one with a flamethrower sometime."

Sam hid her eye roll before Jack looked up, but any reply was cut off by Dylan coming out onto the small porch.

"Please, I think he gets enough pyromania encouragement as it is. Jack, introduce yourself to their friends. Don't be rude." Jack made a face and pet Rufus for enough time for his mother to prod him again. "Ahem."

"Okaaaay. I just wanted to say hi to Rufus first, he felt left out."

"Mm-hmm." Dylan stepped down off the porch and shook her head, smiling as she reached out for a turn hugging the girls. "Welcome to our much nicer home, such as it is. A little rough around the edges, but much more pleasant."

The three of them moved to gather bags and gear with Landry, and Jack finished greeting Nate and the two other moms, introducing them in turn to Dylan. Rebecca pondered for a moment just how much maternal mojo was focused in that short driveway, and couldn't help contrasting to feeling so helplessly adrift in her early days at Broadway.

Sam must have noticed some sort of nonverbal cue, because she sidled closer under the guise of picking up a backpack and quietly checked on her. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, very much so." Rebecca looked at her appreciatively. "Just having a 'how far we've come' moment, I guess."

That got a smile. "Okay. Just don't get too lost in the hard memories. Pretty sure Dylan and Jack are having those regularly too, for what it's worth."

"Heh. Mom too. Rosie..."

Sam hesitated, a touch of worry coming back again. "Hmm?"

"Thanks for helping me get here."

Sam blinked, and then one corner of her mouth lifted again in a dimpled grin. "But I just navigated and told you were to turn."

"No, I mean—"

"I know what you meant. And I'm pretty sure I didn't stutter." Her grin added the unspoken 'dummy' to the end of the affectionate chastisement.

Rebecca closed her mouth and squinted at Sam in amused vexation. The sassy glimpse of Sam's mischievous streak added to some of the retrospection, but in a nostalgic way that made her emotions flutter. Thoughts of the shiny nascent stages of the crush that Rebecca apparently was the last one to recognize put a happy but bashful smile on her face.

The reaction was apparently readable enough, because Sam's next cheerful reply — "You're welcome." — was just as laden with double or triple entendre.

Rebecca's eyes stayed narrowed, and she tilted her head. "You... you did that on purpose, you minx."

Sam's eyes twinkled. "Yup. You're getting quicker."

The group conversation off to their right lulled, and Rebecca realized attention was probably drifting their way. Making me go all moon-eyed in front of three moms who like to tease, and two boys who are about the right age to sing about the two of us sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s et-fucking-cetera. I'm only safe from Landry, because he knows he's vulnerable too.

Plotting her revenge would have to wait, because Landry re-emerged after depositing his first load, helping Tania lift Nate and his chair the three steps to the porch. Even as they did so, the boy didn't stop excitedly telling Jack about the 'tank' he'd ridden over in. Dylan gestured to let Laura go first, which left Rebecca and Sam to bring up the rear, pack-muling the rest of their belongings inside.

The living room flowed into an open kitchen, not much unlike their apartment. Except for the distinct lack of a refrigerator (probably taped closed around the contents and disposed of in sealed entirety), Dylan seemed to have done a good job making the place feel homey again. The major furniture still had a bit of a 'grandparents house' vibe to it, mostly oak and beiges, but brightly colored plush blankets sat piled high at the end of the couch and pieces of Jack's artwork plastered one wall. There was at least one illustration of two figures in black armor, one of them with brown hair and the other in flagrant Crayola red.

Rebecca's attention was drawn from the heroic portraiture by a steady ticking sound, and she moved closer to study a clock hanging from the wall. Not quite a 'grandfather clock', but about the size of a TV turned on end, complete with swaying pendulum and visible gears clicking to and fro. She was enchanted by all the moving pieces long enough for Dylan to notice and come up to her side.

"Someone had the idea of hitting an antique clock shop in town. It took a bit to figure out how to tune the timing and wind it, but at least it's one less thing we need power for." She glanced past Rebecca and added, "Sorry, Sam."

Sam chuckled. "Hey, one less thing on my plate? I really am okay with that. Where can we set our stuff?"

Dylan smiled and gestured in an arc around her as she described the house. "Well, there's three bedrooms. Jack could definitely sleep on the top bunk while Nate's here, and then Tania and your mother could share the spare with the two twins in it if you're willing to camp out in the sunroom den thing. I figure it would give you more privacy than the living room. I certainly wouldn't put our saviors on the floor, so there's a couple of airbeds still boxed up in there."

So she hasn't been actively deterring her son's hero worship. Got it.

Rebecca looked over her shoulder at Laura and Tania, across the living room. Tania seemed hesitant about something, and Rebecca made eye contact with Laura and then glanced back and forth pointedly. Laura shifted further into Tania's view and quietly asked her what was wrong.

Tania looked around at all of them while Jack and Nate's voices echoed from down the hallway. "If it's okay, I'd like to somehow be in the same room as him. In case I have to help him go to the bathroom in the middle of the night or anything, or he has a nightmare."

Laura and Dylan practically tripped over each other trying to assure her, and Laura seemed to have the lead. "Oh Jesus, of course, Tania. The girls put up with me for weeks, I'm sure one night on a sleepaway like this is survivable."

Rebecca looked to Sam to make sure they were on the same page, then nodded. "Absolutely, I kinda figured we might share. It's fine, really."

Tania's body language noticeably relaxed, and Dylan swept the conversation along before a lull would give her the chance to dwell on feeling awkward. "Great. Nick, can you show the ladies to the sunroom while I help put Nate's things away?"

Dylan led Tania through a door off of the living room, and the rest of them threaded behind Landry through a hallway that wrapped behind the kitchen's rear wall. After a quick zig-zag, Rebecca blinked in a much brighter room that protruded from one rear corner of the house, windowed on three sides. Three sides, that is, if you counted the one that was boarded up to well-above her head height. As she got oriented, she realized it was the side facing the outer perimeter a few house lots away and quickly grasped the tactical reasoning.

As promised, two still-boxed airbeds were stacked in one corner, along with nearly two dozen plastic storage totes, black with yellow tops like she'd seen in big-box hardware stores. They were all hand-labeled with scrawled room names and dates roughly a month prior. While Landry set the first few bags down on top of one row of bins, she nodded towards them. "What're all these?"

"Ah, those are part of Madam Councilwoman and the captain's ethical scavenging rules. Every house we 're-occupy' is methodically searched, and anything that isn't already looted and looks important to the owners — photos, keepsakes, possible heirlooms — gets boxed and stored. In case the people who lived here come back, or their relatives show up some day, y'know? Expensive stuff like jewelry gets bagged, collected, and locked up somewhere secure."

Rebecca nodded, thinking about her own apartment and how disorienting to see someone else's living habits overlaid atop all her memories. "Makes sense. But, 'Madam Councilwoman', that sounds a little formal coming from you, mister 'Mayor'."

He groaned, clearly chagrined. "She's the one who started calling me that! Apparently, I don't complain enough for my own good..." He shook his head and reached to help Sam stack her load. "Everyone on this side of the road knew we needed someone to organize, occasionally tell people who were feeling lost what to do, but nobody wanted the responsibility. I felt a little weird as yet another stranger having authority over them, but didn't hide fast enough. At least she agreed to only hold me responsible for this little hamlet, nothing more."

Sam chuckled knowingly. "Until she subtly maneuvers things so you suggest the very thing she wants."

It didn't seem like he'd considered that possibility, because he froze for a moment and sighed, closing his eyes. He shook his head as he opened them again. "Oh, sister. Thank you for forewarning me of that danger."

"You need to get Dylan to watch your back for you, man. Have her help you spot the sneaky politicians hiding in the bushes."

That brought some of the mirth back to his face, and maybe a little something extra that Rebecca couldn't help grinning and paying forward all the teasing she'd received. "How's that going anyway? You're not going to pretend you're not sleeping in the same room or anything, are you?"

She ignored Sam's pointed eyebrow quirk as he nervously rubbed the back of his head and replied. "Heh. Uh... pretty great. It helps making some connections again after everything, you know?"

This time, Rebecca did make eye contact with Sam and nodded, smiling. She definitely knew, possibly even better than he might think.

"Anyway," he continued. "I don't suppose I can dodge further questions along those lines by offering to show you to the solar panels so you can get to work, huh?"

Still looking at Sam, Rebecca smirked. "No, it probably just means being spared having to endure it in front of my mom. But maybe we should—" She gestured at the beds and their gear, thinking that it'd be better to get that squared away before an afternoon of work. Even if I'm just standing there looking pretty and handing her tools most of the time.

Laura plopped one of her bags to the floor, apologizing to Rufus as he danced farther out of the way. "You three go do your thing and catch up, I can unpack a little and start getting the beds pumped up." At a questioning look from Rebecca, she shook her head. "After climbing so many stairs these days, that foot pump is hardly intimidating. And hey, maybe I can put the boys to work, give their poor mothers a break. We have to stick together after all."