Three months had passed, and much to Carlos's relief, so had the cold shoulder that the convoy had been giving K-Mart and himself. He had resented their behavior towards him, but he had learned to hate them bitterly for the way they treated K-Mart. What few people she had made friendly conversations with ignored her when she greeted them, and were often caught whispering until he or K-Mart drew close, at which point the group would quickly scatter and disperse.

After some time, however, he incident smoked over, and the wind of time and movement brushed the ash away. K-Mart made light, however careful, conversation with some of the children again, and the convoy smiled at him in their old, trusting way again. Despite this, he no longer trusted the group. He had regained his old place as admired protector after five more attacks of the undead, but he was no longer able to smile or speak a supportive word towards them.

The only members of the convoy that still held his trust and affection were the ring leaders, namely Claire. She had risen to his request, however grudgingly, and befriended K-Mart with smiles, hugs, and semi-forced jokes. K-Mart was tense at first, but eventually loosened into Claire's friendship. Truth be told, it seemed to take Claire longer to settle into a friendship that she had planted than the girl. Carlos watched their interaction whenever he could, smiling gently, as he was now.

"Eight shells, I win," K-Mart proclaimed triumphantly, gathering up the empty bullet shells with which the convoy had created games.

"Bull shit," Claire objected, ruining the innocence of the game. "Your little eight shells don't match to a full casing!"

"Each shell counts for five bullets when used in the head. These four were head shot, fair and square," K-Mart answered with a smirk.

"Head sh-" Claire sputtered her indignation. "Fuck you! Since when do head shot have anything to do with it?"

"Since Carlos made it up to make up for his loosing when he taught me," K-Mart answered simply. Claire growled audibly from twenty feet away, and Carlos grinned widely at her, holding up his hands.

"You cheating bastard," Claire snapped at him. "At least tell me when you change the fucking rules."

"Watch the language, that's my sister you're influencing," he warned, but continued to smile.

Claire always cursed heavily when doing something competitive, and the fact that she was playing with such enthusiasm was a rough jewel. He snorted with laughter when she cursed even more profanely and turned back to the game. The strong, independent woman had needed this. He had started becoming worried that one day, the woman would snap and throw herself to the undead for lack of anything worth living for. It seemed K-Mart was changing that. He stood from his leaning position against the black truck and swung his magnum over his shoulder as he strode towards them on his way to the perimeters. LJ was coming in early from his watch, as usual, signaling for Carlos to take over his half-assed shift. He paused next to K-Mart and leaned down, laying a gentle kiss on the girl's head. K-Mart looked up and stood urgently, splaying shells over the ground.

"Let me go out with you," she pleaded. She turned her gaze back to Claire with a guilty smile. "Not that I don't want to play, but I like to go on the perimeters. It's quiet." Claire shrugged, her cold mask settling back in. Carlos gazed intently at her to assure himself she was not taking it to heart. But no, she had on her business mask, rather than her cold-heartless-bitch mask. There was a definite difference that made all the world. Still, he shook his head.

"No."

"Please, Carlos," K-Mart grasped hi arm tightly, refusing to allow him to budge. "You know I can shoot a gun, I'm not afraid of them now. I downed five of them last time!" Carlos matched his eyes to her, placing a gentle hand along her jaw.

"I know you can." The girl's eyes were calm, clear, and calculating. At least if anything happened, she was in the right state of mind to handle it as best she could. That besides, he had been encouraging the building of the friendship between K-Mart and Claire so much recently, he had not had any private time with his adopted sister for three weeks. Half of the time she was sleeping in Claire's truck now. "Alright. Claire- you got that M-15?"

"You mean the one she's too good with? Here," Claire reached inside the truck and tossed the gun to Kmart, who caught the gun with unnerving ease. "Maybe she'll beat you in head-shots this time, ass hole," she called out to Carlos as he and K-Mart walked away, arms around each other comfortably. Carlos raised a hand in a dismissing wave, but he grinned widely.

The two of them sat the quad, Carlos on the back end, one leg perched on a wheel, K-Mart between his legs, using him as a leaning post as she listened to his heart beat rhythmically in his chest. Every chance she got, the girl cherished the sound of the heart that held life and death in it's bloody hands within Carlos's chest. It was a sound that told her that he was alive and healthy, for now at least. They were silent, scanning the area, guns prepped and ready for the shot, enjoying one another's presence. Still, thoughts scampered through K-Mart's head, and finally, she spoke, however hesitantly.

"Carlos?"

"I never like conversations that start like that," Carlos replied, never taking his eyes off the horizon over which the sun was rising. The land around them was dying off quickly now, only sand, brown grass and dead trees seeable for miles. It was oddly beautiful. The land was beginning the match the horror they lived in. His thoughts were drawn back to the girl, who lay more heavily against his chest, and he did break his glance to look down at her in a startled way. "What's wrong?"

"That's just it," the thirteen year old replied. "Nothing. As scary as all this is…even though we know we may eventually starve or be bitten…I'd rather be living like this, than back in my old life." Carlos frowned, unsure of where the conversation was heading. "I wish I could say I have a good reason for it… hell, I almost wish I could say I was abused, or that my parent were drunk…just to give a good reason for liking life the way it is. But I can't. I was a spoiled girl that gossiped and talked with my best friend about how hot Orlando Bloom was." Carlos said nothing, recognizing this as one of the girl's rare moments of releasing her emotions and thoughts in any detail. "I can't imagine how life would have been if you hadn't saved me and let me tag along like a lost puppy." She let out a small, breathy laugh. "It's like that song from Pocahontas. You know, that one called "If I Never Knew You"."

Carlos almost flinched, realizing that he was old enough he was already too old to watch Disney movies when the movie had been released. He felt his heart clench when it only served to remind him how young the girl was, and how much she had lost. But here she was, professing how glad she was things turned out the way they had. He gazed down at the kid that stood on the brink of evolving into a woman, but was still young by every definition of the word. The girl looked up at him with eyes that shone in the dying sunlight with even more trust, care, and love than his biological sister had ever shone. He was suddenly swamped with the need to protect, cherish and love this girl that had laid her life in his hands.

Upon impulse, he tipped her chin up with his knuckle and laid a gentle, gossamer kiss upon her lips before drawing her into a protective hug, which she took up comfortably. It had not been a kiss of lust or desire, but a kiss of promise and caring, a kiss only the most strongly connected siblings share. Carlos had not meant it any other way, and K-Mart had not taken it in any other form. Both understood it's meaning, and both had settled back into silence, unspeaking for the rest of the watch.

"Carlos."

Claire's harsh, sharp voice woke him out of his stupor in the van, attempting to look at Claire without moving the very comfortable K-Mart, who had spent the night in the yellow SUV with him again. They had settled back into their routine that night, the small moment during evening watch having connected them strongly again. Both knew that they would separate again within the next few days, but for the moment, neither felt the desire to dire the other away.

"What? Infected?" Carlos's mind was automatically on alert, tense and ready to jump for his gun. Claire shook her head.

"No." Her eyes were steely in the orange glow of the camp fires. "But I need to talk to you. Alone." She flicked her eyes pointedly towards K-Mart. Carlos frowned in confusion, but nodded and slipped carefully out from behind the girl, stripping off his vest and crumpling it to create a pillow in his place. He brushed his lips across her sleeping head, then followed Claire, who's face was fixed into an expression he had only ever seen when one of the convoy's members were in danger: fiercely protective and exceedingly deadly. He almost hesitated in following her. What could he have done to earn that look?

"What did you need?" he asked, hanging back slightly as he noticed she had drawn him unusually far from the camp. He realized this did little to save him when Claire's fist collided painfully with his jaw. He staggered backwards, less from the physical pain than from the shock of Claire's violence towards him.

"Claire- What-"

"You son of a bitch," Claire snarled, stepping towards him again, her fists still clenched. "I thought you ok. You are one sorry bastard." Carlos stared at Claire in complete shock, totally lost. "Don't act stupid," Claire bit out. "You could have had anyone here. You could have had the nurse, any one of the convoy women…shit, you could have had me." There was pain along with the protectiveness, and Carlos cringed inwardly. He wasn't completely dim. He knew what she was getting to, now. She must have seen the kiss he had delivered upon K-Mart. His heart plunged into his stomach as he realized what it must have looked like. He shook his head violently.

"It was not what it looked like," he began, and paused when he realized how cliché the answer sounded. "It wasn't a kiss."

"What was it then, Carlos?" Claire spat. "Were you trying to put Chap Stick on with your lips?" Her dark face told him the wrong answer would have her raining down on him with her very solid fists.

"It was a promise." Claire's face continued to gaze at him with pure anger, which told him the answer didn't cut it. The orange of the nearby campfires lit up eyes that were not only angry, but rejected and abandoned. He had known Claire had had feelings for him for some time, but he had never been interested. He had seen her as a good, close friend, even if she had not returned the friendship. The situation being what it was, he had essentially ignored the feelings he had picked up only because of his acute perceptiveness, and moved on as though they did not exist, for Claire surely did not want them exposed. But now, he knew how to handle both situations with one stone. He took a step forward and laid a kiss as chaste and light as K-Mart's upon Claire's unsuspecting lips. He had been careful to deliver a very clear message in the kiss: A promise to be a loyal companion and protector, but nothing more.

The woman tensed, and her hand rose, but he had backed away before she could strike. She gazed at him, her eyes flitting across his face, surprised, wounded, and healed all in one moment. He had explained his kiss to K-Mart and his simple feelings for her in a fell swoop. She felt the cold, hating ice melting within her.

"It was only a promise," Carlos stated, and laying a gentle squeeze upon her shoulder, he made is way back to he vehicle in which his little sister slept. He could feel Claire watching him, but he ignored it, moving into the SUV, carefully situating K-Mart around him, who easily settled against his body in her sleep. Laying his head upon his hand as a rest, he shut his eyes and eased into a semi-sleep.