ALLERFORD, SOMERSET, ENGLAND
A few days later

Hermione woke and turned over onto her side. The sky was still dark outside her window. A glance at the alarm clock on her bed-side table showed that dawn was still a few hours away. Three in the morning and she was wide awake. With a sigh, she pulled the duvet up around her shoulders and snuggled down into her pillow and closed her eyes, willing away the hot tears building. She hadn't been able to shake the melancholy after the other night. She felt raw. When a few tears leaked out, soaking into her pillowcase, Hermione sat up and pushed her covers back.

She couldn't take another minute of lying in bed crying. If she couldn't sleep, she would just get started on her day. She stretched for a minute and then turned on the light switch. Opening the top drawer of a short and wide chest of drawers, she unrolled a pair of socks and quickly slipped one on each foot. October had arrived in a horrible temper, cold, wet, and windy, and she was so thankful she had a warm and safe place to stay. Renewed gratitude helped take the edge off of her wayward emotions. Hermione made her bed, turned off her light and padded quietly to the kitchen.

Fresh coffee and an hour or two on the forum, that's what she needed.

Hermione filled the percolator half-full with water as the laptop hummed and beeped in an arrested beat, slowly booting up. After scooping coarse coffee grounds into the top chamber, she set the percolator to heat and turned the burner up to medium-high, so that the water would start boiling in a few minutes. Just the smell of coffee brewing was invigorating.

Hermione drank three cups while reading and posting on the forums and was wide awake and covered in flour, pulling an apple cake out of the oven, when Christie walked into the kitchen a few hours later, sniffing appreciatively.

Christie glanced at the clock with a laugh. It was 6 a.m. "Ye sleep at all last night, girlie? "

Hermione smiled and set the cinnamon-spiced dessert on the counter to cool. "A little. Enough. There's hot coffee if you would like some to go with a bit of cake."

"I believe I do! Thanks, lass. Ye know, I do believe I'm gettin' spoil't."

Hermione smiled, closing the oven door and setting aside the oven gloves. "Me too."


THE EASTERN SEABOARD, UNITED STATES
Four years after The Fall

It was slow work and she didn't find a lot this morning. Just a lighter that still worked, a belt, a few batteries in questionable condition, most likely dead, a box with a few matches, and a few pens, one of which left an ink stain all over her hand. Not a great haul, but better than nothing.

Sam looked out at the alley and listened for a minute before she hopped over the edge of the dumpster and back onto the ground, landing softly on her feet. She'd just have to hope Ammon was in a good mood this morning.

Ammon looked up from behind his computer and grinned as his favourite dark-haired shrew stepped through the door with her permanent scowl in place. Closing the game of solitaire, he unfolded himself from his chair and stretched, eyeing Sam with a maddening light in his eyes.

Her scowl deepened.

Ammon laughed, the sound a shock-wave in the otherwise quiet room. "Good morning, sunshine." His light-brown eyes crinkled in the corners as he rose one eyebrow to her succinct silence. "Very well, what brings you to the bees' knees?"

Sam made a show of rolling her eyes. "Ammon, you're seriously lame, I hope you know that. I have no idea why anyone would be afraid of you."

He laughed. "I know I'm not nearly as terrifying as you are, O Dark One, but then again, I doubt anyone is. Damn, I hope not. What have you got for me today?" he asked, finally getting down to business.

Sam sighed softly and began unloading her finds on the bar. He barely looked at the goods before he lifted the key around his neck, entering the locked room. He returned with a can of Progresso stew and a bite-size Hershey's Mr. Goodbar.

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Chocolate? Again?"

"Something to sweeten you up," he answered with a wink.

Sam narrowed her eyes at him and tried not to smile. "You're going to spoil him."

Ammon snorted, leaning towards her, his arms resting on the counter. "Small chance of that. How is the kid?"

"Rowdy. I guess Beth would want me to thank you," she added, slipping the two items into the purse at her waist.

"Please tell her she's most welcome."

"Stop acting the gentleman, Ammon, your duplicity is making me queasy."

He gave her a wolfish grin and Sam huffed.

Glancing down at his watch, Ammon noticed the time was nearing eight o'clock. "You better get out of here, Sam."

She nodded and turned to leave, lifting her hand in a dismissive but playful farewell.

It was a short walk back to The Hole, and after surveying the empty street around the small auto garage, Sam lifted the key from around her neck. The garage doors in the front of the building were operated from the inside, and the only regular door was thick, metal, and indestructible.

Thankful for her uncle's power tools, Sam had immediately boarded up the two large windows with anything she could find that would work. She had broken apart an old card table, dissembled some cabinets, and even a few road signs were screwed in to cover the windows. When the electricity failed, it was blindingly dark, hence the nickname.

After the first blackout, Sam had dived for a week before she amassed enough goods for Ammon to trade her an oil lamp. He was especially difficult when you had something in particular in mind. From then on, when she managed a really good haul, she would save her best finds and then trade one for oil later, when the lamp was running low. She didn't like the impenetrable dark.

Sam knocked hard twice and then paused and knocked once more. Letting herself in, she locked the door behind her and replaced the roped key around her neck as two tiny arms attacked her legs, squeezing with joy, and a curly mop of a head grinned up at her.

"Thsammy! You mithed it, you mithed it!" Tootie cried, his curls bouncing in his eyes.

Sam knelt down, her shoulders relaxing as her frown melted into a genuine-if-awkward-looking smile. "Yeah? What'd I miss, shorty?"

"I thspelled my name," he declared proudly, puffing out his little chest.

Sam looked up at Beth, who was seated low to the ground on a wheeled creeper, a warm smile on her face. She nodded, and Sam scooped Tootie up into her arms. "No way, I don't believe you!"

He scowled at her, his two-year-old face comically reminiscent of her own. "T-double O-T-I…T-I—E!"

Sam laughed and bounced him on her hip. "Oh, you proved me wrong! Good job! Here, shorty," she dug in the purse and pulled out the small chocolate bar, "a gift from Ammon, just for you."

Toot smiled down at the small yellow-wrapped candy. "Choc-o-lot?" he asked, causing Sam to laugh out loud.

"Yes, choc-o-lot. High five, monkey."

He gave her an abrupt high five and then wiggled down, heading towards his blocks (bits of wood Sam had scavenged from an abandoned sawmill nearby).

"What do you say?" Beth cajoled.

"Thanks for nothing," Tootie chirruped happily, quoting Sam, who sometimes grumbled about Ammon under her breath. Well, okay, she grumbled about him on a regular basis on her good days.

Sam burst out laughing.

"I'm glad you're back, Sam," Beth said with a gentle smile, sounding tired, which was odd for her.

"What's wrong?"

"Noth-nothing," Beth quickly asserted, not quite meeting her sister's eyes.

Sam crossed the room in a few strides. "What's the matter, Beth?"

Beth's pale face was flushed, and she chewed her bottom lip, then turned to watch Tootie. Finally, she admitted in a low whisper, "Nothing's very wrong, I promise. It's just...I feel a bit off. I've got a fever and I've had this headache that won't go away," Beth grabbed Sam's hand before she started pacing in panic, "I'm fine. I'm just so afraid that it could be contagious. I don't want you or Tootie to get sick. Especially Toot. He's still so little," she whispered.

Sam rocked on her heels for a minute, fresh worry settling on her shoulders with cruel efficiency.