Melissa woke to someone shaking her shoulder. "What do you want?" she muttered, her eyes still closed.

"You fell asleep," Punk said gently.

Melissa blearily opened her eyes to find him standing in front of her. The book was lying open in her lap, where she had been reading it. She realized the sun had risen, and was filtering in through some of the windows, giving the house a warm, friendly look. Then the gravity of Punk's words crashed over her. She'd fallen asleep on watch! "Shit, I'm sorry," she muttered, realizing it was a mistake that could have potentially cost them both their lives.

"No harm done," Punk said easily, though his eyes seemed to say that he really hoped it wouldn't happen again.

Melissa took in his appearance, suddenly noticing that his hair was tousled and… was it damp? "What happened to your hair?" she asked him. "It looks like you slept in a rainstorm!"

Punk smiled. "There's a pump well out back, and I pumped some out and carried it up to the bathtub upstairs and had myself a bath. I was freezing by the time I was done, but at least I'm clean. Hey, where are you going?"

Melissa had jumped off of the counter halfway through Punk's sentence. "You had me at bath!" Melissa said. She couldn't seem to remember the last time she had bathed.

Punk laughed now, and pointed to a door that led out of the kitchen, presumably to outside. "The well is out there. I put the bucket back, but you'll still have to haul the water upstairs."

Melissa was already opening the door, rushing outside to the well. Punk followed, staying in the doorway while she walked the short distance to the well. "I'll be inside packing up some of the food," he told her.

Melissa nodded to acknowledge him, and started pumping some of the water, almost giggling in glee when it poured into the bucket. She spent the next half-hour or so hauling the water up to the bathroom until the tub was nearly full. She quickly got in, remembering Punk's words about the water being freezing. It wasn't nearly cold as she had thought it would be, but it was certainly no warm bubble bath. She hurriedly washed her body and hair, wanting to get out of what was quickly becoming murky gray dirty water.

After Melissa got out and drained the tub, she dried off and put her clothes back on, wishing they were cleaner. She spent another half-hour or so trying to untangle the snarls and tangles that had formed in her curly hair. At one point she nearly reached for a pair of scissors that she had seen in one of the drawers, but she persevered and managed to make it look and feel decent. She tied it back, before leaving the bathroom. She headed back down to the kitchen, but Punk wasn't in there. Heading into the dining room, she found Punk eating a bowl of peaches while reading out of the book she had left on the counter in her haste to bathe.

Melissa sat down next to him. Punk looked up from the book. "Feeling better?" he said with a smirk.

"I forgot how nice it was to be clean," Melissa admitted. She looked at the bowl of peaches. "That better not have been the only can of peaches."

"There was plenty of them, from what I could see," Punk said, waving the fork he was eating them with at the general direction of the kitchen. "Have at it. I've packed two backpacks full of what I could find."

Melissa headed back into the kitchen, opening the pantry and found another can of peaches, as Punk had said there would be. She grabbed it and rummaged around to find a bowl she could pour them in, along with a fork to eat them with. She found both fairly quickly and also located the can opener Punk had used. After opening the can, she hastily poured the peaches into the bowl and joined Punk in the dining room.

Punk looked up again as she entered the room, but went back to reading as she sat down. It took some self-control on Melissa's part not to rush through eating the peaches, knowing she really didn't want a stomachache. After finishing her peaches, she sat back, feeling contentedly full for the first time in what felt like forever.

As she did so, Punk carefully closed the book, placing it down on the table. "Are you ready to go?" he asked her.

Hesitation made Melissa pause. "I really don't want to leave; it's so nice here, but we need to find the Shield…" She thought for a moment. "Maybe when we find the Shield we can come back here?" she suggested hopefully.

Punk looked thoughtful. "I wouldn't be entirely opposed to it. I wouldn't mind being able to bathe every day," he said with a small laugh.

"But we still need to find the Shield," Melissa said, almost as a reminder to herself; she knew that the trio was much more important than her hygiene.

Nodding, Punk stood up. "We should probably head out now, while there's still plenty of daylight."

Melissa stood as well. She grabbed their bowls, taking them back into the kitchen and placing them in the sink.

Punk followed her curiously. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I don't like leaving a mess," Melissa explained. "I'm having a random burst of neat-freakiness."

"Okay," Punk muttered, dragging the word out.

As Melissa stacked the bowls carefully in the sink, a thought came to her. "Hey, should we leave a note in case the Shield ends up here while we're looking?"

Punk looked surprised. "That's not a bad idea. I'll do that while you gather up whatever else you want to take with you." He crossed the kitchen, rummaging around in a drawer, presumably where he'd found some stationary to write on. Melissa, meanwhile, headed back into the dining room, reaching for the book sitting on the table. There was just no way she could leave it behind. She thought for a moment how much her morals regarding stealing had changed; she now did it without thinking. "It's survival," she muttered to herself. Now was not the time to doubt herself. She picked up the book, knowing full well that the book wasn't exactly survival gear. Mental survival, Melissa thought to herself with a slight giggle.

Rejoining Punk in the kitchen, she watched as he stuck it to the fridge with a magnet. It read in large print, "IF YOU SEE THIS, WE'VE ALREADY BEEN HERE. HEAD SOUTH TO GET TO THE CAR. WE'LL MEET YOU THERE –PUNK AND MELISSA."

Melissa nodded in satisfaction. "I guess we're ready to go then."

"I guess we are. Come on, the backpacks are in here." He led her into the living room, and pointed out the backpacks on the couch. He picked up one, so she shouldered the other, grunting slightly as she adjusted to the weight. Canned food wasn't all that smart unless you had a car, she decided.

Punk stood waiting by the door. "Do you have the gun and knife?" he asked her.

Melissa nodded, her throat dry. The knife sheath and gun holster hadn't left her side except when she had bathed; they were both on her hips, and both had their respective weapon. She shivered slightly. She still hadn't really had time to process the emotional fallout, and she wondered if she ever would. Or she even wanted to. Maybe it was better to just let it lie in the past.

Punk, unaware of her inner troubles, had opened the door, letting her walk through before closing it behind them with a soft thud. "Let's go then," Punk said, heading back in the direction they had come from.

"Here's to finding the Shield," Melissa murmured as she started after him in the early morning sunlight.