A/N: I don't even know what to say...there's no excuse for a two year delay! I'm so sorry, thank you to those who are still sticking around. After a recent visit from a dear friend, I'm feeling the inspiration again. I WILL finish this story, you have my word, and updates should be semi-regular until the end. Thanks again for your support, guys.

"Okay, I think I have something! Shit, never mind."

Santana tossed the toaster she had been holding up in triumph just moments earlier when she noticed that something had chewed through the cord. Probably a mouse. They were in the kitchen of a long abandoned farm house about a day's walk from the community.

"I didn't want toast anyway," she grumbled. So far, in her three months on the scavenging team, Santana had proven to be almost useless. Maybe it was bad luck, or maybe it was that scavenging just didn't showcase her talents. She really belonged on the cooking team, and would transfer there in a heartbeat, but she couldn't seem to drag herself away from Brittany's side.

Ever since she first spotted the tall, blonde girl on her second day in New Lima, it felt like Brittany had a slight gravitational pull, keeping Santana from straying too far. Aside from the three nights Santana spent with Marina after her return, and before Brittany insisted there was room for everyone at her dwelling, San and Britt had been inseparable.

"Wait, we can still use that," Brittany piped up from across the room. Santana shot her a dubious look.

"The cord is completely chewed through," Santana replied. "I don't think the tech team would want to risk electrocution putting this thing back together just so we can have Pop Tarts."

"The cooking team makes Pop Tarts? How do they make the sprinkles?"

"No, they don't, I was just joking."

Santana had to stifle a laugh. She sometimes forgot how gullible Brittany was. She preferred not to think about it as gullibility. Brittany was just very trusting. It was a good quality, really.

"Well anyway, the Techs can still use it I bet," Brittany continued, only barely covering her disappointment about the Pop Tarts. She made her way over the trashed kitchen to where Santana stood and picked up the toaster again from the heap. "See those coils and those metal plates? They're probably good for something."

Brittany was right. The tech team was always searching for things they could use for new gadgets and gizmos. They were an optimistic group; believing they could bring all the technology lost after the outbreak back to the community. They could do it, too, with the right tools. They'd already restored short range radio signals, which were immensely helpful when any of the teams had to travel outside the confines of the community, to a certain point. Trips that ventured outside of a thirty mile radius or so were out of the radio range, but the Techs were always hard at work to expand the circle.

"Okay, I'll pack the toaster," Santana consented with a smile. She had a feeling that Brittany was just trying to make her feel better about her consistent unsuccessfulness, but at the same time, she remembered that Brittany had an eye for scavenging. She was by far the best on the team and even if she was trying to make Santana feel better, she wouldn't do it at the expense of knowing that San would have to lug the toaster all the way back to the community for nothing.

"How did you get so smart?" Santana asked, wrapping her arms around the girl she was starting to love. Brittany answered only with a sheepish smile, before Santana leaned in for a kiss.

They didn't have a lot of private moments, so she tried to take advantage of their solitude any time she could. At home, Marina was always there, which Santana didn't mind most of the time. After being separated from her sister for months following her graduation, she liked to keep her in her sight as much as possible. As the months went by living in New Lima, Santana began to relax, to trust that she and her sister were safe, or at least as safe as they could be living outside of the boundaries of the New Reality.

Santana felt Brittany's hands exploring her body, first over her clothes, then traveling underneath, playfully tickling her ribcage on the way to her full, sensitive breasts. Santana pushed against Brittany's tentative squeezes, urging her to continue. She moaned into Brittany's mouth as she began inching closer and closer to her almost overly sensitive nipples.

"Brittany, Santana! It's time to pack up and head out!"

The girls both groaned as they pulled themselves apart from each other, hearing Ming's shout from the yard outside.

"Cock block," Santana muttered, causing Brittany to giggle. Santana righted her bra and shirt and tried not to focus on where this make-out session was headed before they were so rudely interrupted by the no-nonsense head of the scavenging team.

"Coming!" Brittany shouted back, through the open window.

"I wish," Santana added quietly, causing Brittany to giggle at the corny joke, they'd used on more than one occasion while out on assignment. One of these days, Santana was going to get this girl alone. It was her number one mission now. It's funny, how much priorities can change in a few short months.

In the months that followed Kurt's brief indiscretion with Scott, he'd done his best at keeping his distance from the charming tree-climber, which was no easy task, considering they worked together on the rescue team and Thomas showed no signs of reassigning Kurt from his position as second lookout.

To his credit, Scott kept his distance too, as much as possible. They were cordial and professional to one another, knowing that they had to maintain some connection in order to do their jobs successfully. The last thing either of them wanted was for Thomas to sense something was wrong and force one of them off the team. As much as Kurt sensed Thomas liked him and admired his abilities, he knew that Scott had seniority, and Kurt would be the one pushed out. Kurt couldn't let that happen. Being on the rescue team gave his life purpose. After the outbreak and prior to escaping their old community, Kurt resigned himself to the fact that his life was meaningless. He'd never know love, he'd never make a difference in anyone's life. Everything changed when he escaped. He found out that he was strong, that he could help save people, and that he liked the element of danger.

Kurt was, he discovered, a bit of an adrenaline junky. As a kid he'd been shy and bullied, and because of his slight build, he was considered weak. Now, between rescue missions, he worked out constantly, repeating Thomas' obstacle course over and over, beating self-imposed goals and personal records. He never wanted to feel like that weak kid ever again.

Meanwhile Blaine had settled into a comfortable pace with the building team. It was a far cry from what he'd always dreamed of doing, singing and dancing on stage, but he found artistry in menial tasks, and spent his spare time creating toys for the kids or building furniture for the dwellings he worked on. His big project was a playground set. He'd started mentally sketching the designs almost immediately after settling into New Lima. The kids seemed happy enough, most of them having never known any life outside of the community, but he couldn't help thinking they may have more fun sliding and swinging than playing kick the can or pulling weeds from the garden.

Things with Kurt had cooled off a bit. After he'd returned from his first mission with the rescue team, Kurt had seemed somewhat aloof. Blaine chalked it up to his strong focus on the team, and he tried his best not to pry. Their conversation before Kurt left for that first trip scared Blaine. He didn't want to make things worse by nagging Kurt or starting a confrontation about how distant he seemed at times, or how he seemed to have an almost obsessive concentration on his training and workouts. It may not work forever, this tiptoeing around, but it was enough for now. As long as Kurt still came home to him, still loved him, it would be enough.