The last block or two of the trek home, after they peeled off from the patrol they'd traveled with, Rebecca found something new to dwell on. She wasn't sure she was up for a big grilling from Ronnie when they arrived — but obviously some part of her wanted the comforting feeling of safety that Mama Bear had always embodied. Sam's presence offered reassurance, she'd undoubtedly help screen Rebecca from some of the fussing, but Rebecca inevitably felt guilty at the idea of letting Sam take the load.

She should have had more faith. Of course Ronnie'd had experience 'welcoming' a tired patrol back inside the wire and knew the balance to strike. She'd pointedly made sure everyone was more or less in one piece, then gestured imperiously for the nearest grunts to offload the truck and get it back in its usual position, turreted weapons leveled at the front gate. She allowed Rebecca a single indecorous hug, and then sent everyone packing to get cleaned up and rest.

Even Rufus seemed ready for a familiar bed. When Rebecca tossed his into its routine spot at the foot of their bed, he wasted no time beyond a single spin in place before flopping prone with an audible sigh. She mirrored the sentiment and exhalation, dropping her helmet and armor into a half-filled laundry basket, sitting on the edge of their bed and toppling backwards, arm over her eyes.

**

Sam heard her two big dopey loves go quiet in the back room and smirked to herself as she put the groceries away — or the apocalypse version thereof: shoving the duffle bag full of travel food across the kitchen counter to deal with later, and putting their water bottles in the sink for cleaning... at some point. By the end of the week at least.

The black plastic water tank on their porch — very intentionally on the sunny side of the building, at the specific request of the girl who gets cold all the time — was unpleasantly warm to the touch. That meant it was the perfect temperature inside, and she lightly slapped the valve attaching it to a hose through the wall. That would dump almost a full tub of warm water into the bath over the span of eight minutes, not that she'd timed it. (She hadn't, really. Just done the math about tank size and hose flow rate.)

When she got to the bathroom, Sam used the first minute's worth of tepid water to wash her face, then soak her hair and flip it out of her eyes. It was a double win — the sensation helped her reboot mentally and she had ample historical evidence Rebecca very much enjoyed the slicked-back look... as long as it hopefully didn't make her think (more) about the unpleasantness at the pool. That was the opposite of the plan — Sam worried Rebecca was slipping into a dark place again. It didn't take much self-awareness to admit her smoldering determination to soften the landing was completely predictable, but whatever.

With her head clearing enough to go all-in pampering Rebecca, Sam plucked at her black tank top for a quick sniff to make sure she didn't need to do any more preening first. She settled for a single drop of Rebecca's-favorite-when-Sam-used-it lotion rubbed between her wrists in lieu of perfume, grabbed a large steel water bottle they'd lost the cap for ages ago, and filled it from the warming flow. The contents set aside for rinsing with later, she sparingly rationed out just enough body wash right under the mouth of the hose.

I suppose that's one upgrade our little improvised setup has over 'old school' running hot water, I can just walk away without flooding the bathroom. She returned to be bedroom and smiled when Rebecca peeked out with one eye from under her arm.

"Hi you," Sam said softly, like she was waking Rebecca gently, a callback to some of their early honeymoon-stage saccharine exchanges.

"Hi Rosie. I heard you splashing around, did you finish already?" Rebecca clearly must have been drifting as she lay there, it hadn't been nearly long enough since the initially loud stage of the water pattering into an empty tub for Sam to have done anything with it.

The confusion only grew when Sam opened Rebecca's clothing drawers instead of her own and shook her head. "It's for you, silly. I totally saw you flinch in the car, why do you think I passed you my only hair tie?" She pulled an oversized merch shirt from Jimmy Eat World's 2013 tour out — there was no way Rebecca originally sought out an 2XL, but thanks to whatever stock scarcities occurred, it made for excellent casual loungewear. And hey, the wholesome song associations can only help, right?

"Oh. Sorry..." Rebecca looked down sheepishly as she accepted the shirt, accompanying long flannel shorts, and Sam's hand to help her up. Then, of course, the embarrassment increased when Sam gave her a gently admonishing look over the apology. "I would've waited if you wanted to go first," she mumbled.

Sam kissed Rebecca's forehead (tiptoes were involved) and shook her head again. "What can I say, sugar. You've had a rough day and I'm a giver." Her grin turned even more impish at Rebecca's flustered blush.

After towing Rebecca gently to the bathroom, Sam waited off to one side, only stepping in to lift Rebecca's shirt over her head when she hissed in discomfort. The water was just trickling to a stop when she helped Rebecca step into and settle under the bubbles.

"Thank you, Rosie. You take good care of me."

Sam tried not to look too pleased with herself as she turned on several rechargeable LED candles and set them around the corners of the tub to supplement the fading late afternoon light. "Oh, you're worth it. And it's cute that you think I'm done, I could almost be insulted."

Rebecca smiled and slid down in the water, submerging except for her face and then resurfacing. Sam let her enjoy the soak for a few minutes, but interceded and took over when Rebecca tried to reach for a shampoo bottle.

"Nope. Bad dog. If just trying to get your shirt off hurt, how do you think you're going to wash your hair?"

A little bit of the sheepishness returned, but at least there was humor with it this time. "Uh... carefully? I guess?" She tried again when Sam scowled playfully. "Or maybe just cooperate and let my wonderful girlfriend do it, and stop making spoiling me more difficult?"

"Ding ding ding. At least you got it eventually." Sam sat sideways on the edge of the tub and worked carefully, kneading Rebecca's amber honey-colored hair, wiping stray suds and droplets away from Rebecca's face with the inside of her forearm. Sam knew she was on the right track when she got her fingertips deep into the roots of Rebecca's hair and elicited an appreciative groan. "How's that for a prize, eh?"

"Oh," Rebecca sighed. "The best ever."

Sam smiled, rinsing Rebecca's hair with the same deliberate precision. She handed over a mid-sized towel, and while Rebecca used it to wrap her hair up, Sam watched a water drop as it followed the fading taper of hair on the nape of Rebecca's and ran down her back. That brought her eyes across the multiple bandages, and it took effort not to sigh.

The water had softened the adhesives, and Sam tenderly peeled the dressings off one at a time. Most of the scratches from the hedge and fence were healing up, just one gouge was still raw and angry. Sam made a mental note to patch it up later and carefully maneuvered a washcloth around the wounds, then cupped warm water over Rebecca's back and shoulders with her hand.

Rebecca must have caught her absentmindedly gazing, because she flicked a spray of bathwater at Sam as she leaned back amongst the cloud of bubbles. She reclined most of the way, towel resting against the wall just above the waterline. "Enjoying the view, are you?"

Sam smiled, as much in response to the teasing as relief at Rebecca's levity. "Oh, I'll never deny having some gay thoughts when it comes to you, sugar."

Rebecca smirked, lifting one glistening calf clear of the water, perching a toe at the far end of the tub as if to tease Sam. But she also lay her hand tenderly on Sam's, stroking it with her thumb and closed her eyes. "Thanks... I could get used to this."

Sam's smile relaxed, the playfulness replaced by quieter warmth as their fingers intertwined and she played some bubbles lingering on the back of Rebecca's hand. "I suppose I'll just have to up my game if that happens."

"Maybe, but's been a long few days," Rebecca said softly, squeezing Sam's hand. "Can you just stay for a few minutes?"

"Of course. I was going figure out dinner while you lazed about, but it can wait." Sam gave Rebecca's hand a reply squeeze and tried to get comfortable next to the tub. She shifted off her knees to sit parallel to it, almost as if they were holding hands on a car's center armrest.

"Thanks." Rebecca leaned over as best she could and rested her head on Sam's shoulder.

Sam could just barely see past Rebecca's cheek where a rivulet trickling down from Rebecca's hair slowly pooled in the little hollow above her collarbone — somehow it was just so very aesthetically pleasing. While admiring it, she thought she saw goosebumps on Rebecca's far arm, so she reached across their conjoined hands, scooping and dribbling a palmful of warm water along the top of Rebecca's shoulder. The resulting happy hum melted her heart, and she tucked a wayward strand of hair that had escaped the towel back in. "I'm proud of you."

"Mm?" Rebecca frowned slightly and tried to twist her neck and shoulders to see Sam, but she only made a frustrated sound and shrugged. "What do you mean"

"Just for being and staying who you are in the midst of everything. I'm grateful we have each other." Sam kissed Rebecca's forehead, and then nuzzled her cheek against the towel.

"Me too." Rebecca stroked her thumb across Sam's wrist. "I know I can be a little..." She paused, searching for the right word. "...well, the opposite of 'a little' sometimes. So thank you for sticking with me."

"Of course, dummy. If you insist on being so sentimental, I regret nothing since sharing what was quite possibly civilization's last Pop Tart with you."

"So, you're saying you do regret that part?"

"Only when you get so thick headed about accepting you're not some awful burden, sugar. Even from a purely selfish perspective, it was a good investment when the payoff is access to homemade cookies after the end of the world."

Rebecca started to reply, but instead sighed and sat up to drape her arms around Sam, who was caught off guard by the soggy embrace but certainly not complaining. Especially not when Rebecca kissed one of the shoulders left bare by Sam's tank top and squeezed her.

Sam squirmed abruptly when she felt the fabric between them soak through, but smirked when Rebecca finally loosened her hold enough she could sit back normally. "If my shirt needed to be changed that badly, you could have just said so. Can I get you anything while I look for a new one?"

"Mm." Rebecca laid her head against the tub wall again, staring up at Sam with the sort of sleepy-yet-spontaneous smile that made Sam wondered if she would have the same expression stoned. "Could you put on that sky blue shirt, the one with the buttons?"

"Maybe after dinner, you know how hard it is to find a reliable dry cleaner in this neighborhood." Sam was no good at denying Rebecca a genuine request, but still scoffed at how pleased Rebecca looked, like she'd won a negotiation.

"I guess maybe I should stop delaying you, and let you get to it then."

"Yes, if I'm going to play dress-up for you, I don't want to do it on an empty stomach." Saying that made Sam think of Rebecca's injuries, even if they were theoretically 'minor'. It upset her again, and she carefully kept her tone light. "Call me before you try to get out of the tub, okay?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "You're not going to let me do anything on my own for a while, are you?"

"I mean, you could sleep on the couch if you really need your independence. I'm sure Rufus would enjoy the extra space."

"No!" Rebecca swatted another playful splash at Sam and settled deeper into the water. "I'll cooperate"

"I'm glad you're learning." Sam tried to make her parting remark sound like a reprimand, but probably failed. She was too busy trying to etch the image of Rebecca lounging in the bath into her memory so she could enjoy it while standing over a bubbling pot of whatever grain-plus-legumes-and-something-else-for-variety meal they were consigned to that night.

Rebecca might have requested a certain cute outfit for relaxing later in the evening, but in the meantime Sam wasn't about to reward her for drenching a shirt that had been only worn for that single day so far. That was practically spotless by apocalypse standards. For now, all Rebecca was going to get was one of the other two exactly matching tank tops Sam had in the third drawer.