"No cleavage!" she said firmly, poking through her friend's closet with a small scowl. "I don't want to go home with one of your club guys, and I don't want to look like I do."

Karen bounced on the bed impatiently. "Alright fine, try the grey one. I haven't had a chance to try it myself yet."

The girl who was to become Runner Five looked begrudgingly at the soft material and slipped it off the hanger. "I'm not trying to be a buzzkill," she explained. "But club guys aren't really my style. Especially hearing about how that one guy nearly broke all of your…"

"That was one time!" Karen yelped. "That could have happened to anyone!"

Five stepped out of the closet and swirled in the grey dress. It was an understated halter-top, not over clingy, but very short and flowy. Five tugged at the hem self-consciously while Karen gave her an approving once-over. "No, don't pull at it!" she chirped. "Your legs are your best asset."

Five later decided that it was the third tequila shot that did her in. The second one merely lifted her, filling her mind with smoky bubbles, but the third hit her stomach like a depth charge. There was just something about the night that seemed off and tequila had seemed like the answer to her problems before it all billowed into her brain and started swinging her hips.

Karen had found the dance partner they had come to this club to meet and Five was third-wheeling at a level her introversion couldn't take without a chemical intervention. She swayed off-center, giggling at the speed at which her shyness had melted away. Maybe another hour and she could go home. Fake sick or something. Or maybe she could just stay.

The fourth shot happened somehow. It seemed to have been a purchase made by Karen's dance partner but Five wasn't really sure of anything at that point. He was shouting at her, a scrawny blond kid, and gesturing towards someone else. The someone else sort of blundered over and crashed into her and then they were swaying together, bundled up together in the thick heat and she was dizzy and overwhelmed and so she put her arms around his shoulders and tried to keep her face far enough forward that talking wasn't necessary. He seemed to be saying something but obviously wasn't much better off than she was. It was probably just his name, which couldn't have mattered less because even if she lived to remember any of this, they would never see each other again. She let herself toy with the idea, flowing thickly through her head. This was a different side of her, finally being the girl Karen was, just letting herself live and drink and sort of staggeringly slow-dance with a perfect stranger at a club.

He seemed too drunk to really make much effort to do anything more than stand and sway with her, but suddenly his fingers came up to the back of her neck and she realized he had seen her tattoo. Obviously having trouble getting it in focus, he turned her head gently and stroked the spot. She slowed down, relaxing under the gentle pressure, and came almost to a stop and he, seemingly emboldened, dropped his head to press a gentle kiss to her neck. She stood very still, letting the haze of the moment calm her anxiety. It felt very different than the rough hands and casual grinding of the other boys she had met in places like this. His mouth was very gentle and slow, as well as wet and clumsy, but it was the first time she had been kissed in a long time and she kind of sighed into him and tried to orient herself, splaying her hands on his shoulders to hold herself up. He stopped as abruptly as he had begun and ran his thumb over the tiny tattoo once more. Putting his mouth up to her ear he said as quietly as possible, "What does it mean?"

At that moment, a girl slammed into him from one side. She was laughing and surrounded by other girls and a flash of alarm crossed her face as she saw Five and the boy wrapped up in each other. Five came back to life quickly, pushing him away in horror and staggering hard as she lost his support. The boy looked between the two women in bafflement.

"Who is this?" The other girl shouted, still looking more confused than belligerent, and Five ran. As the two turned to each other, she ducked between several people and fled to Karen, dragging her outside as quickly as possible. Karen was perfectly ready to leave with her dance partner and the girls huddled together on the wet sidewalk as he went to retrieve his car.

"So, wait, what happened?" Karen demanded. "The girl who wanted to go out with no cleavage turned into some sort of homewrecker?"

"I don't know!" Five buried herself in her coat. "I don't know what happened and I didn't even know who he was but I'm never drinking tequila again!"

- Abel -

"I'm never drinking tequila again," Five groaned, pressing her fingers gingerly to her temples. "It's been twenty hours and I'm still in pain."

All of the Abel Township runners were spread out over the farmhouse's living room enjoying their Friday night movie. Five sat curled up in her usual spot on the floor in front of the big couch.

Sam Yao laughed aloud, poking at her shoulder with his big toe. "I should have cut your run short today after you almost fell on top of that zomb in the woods. I told you where it was and you still ran straight into it, you big dummy."

"Left and right become very complicated ideas when you're hungover," Jody, who was sitting behind her, defended her. "Here, let me braid your hair and you'll feel better."

Five twisted her head around to glare at her. "Only if you do a normal, practical braid! I don't need my hair collapsing into my eyes as I'm leaving the gate like it did two weeks ago!"

Jody pouted, twisting her fingers into Five's hair. "Oh come on! I just like trying out new pretty things! Here, I promise I'll take it down if it isn't sturdy enough. I just wanted to try that thing I was talking about, a fishtail that comes down the side and across the back of your neck. It pulls everything to the side and it will look so nice!"

Five leaned her head all the way back and stuck out her tongue at Jody. "I don't want to look nice. I want to not die."

Jody turned a challenging face to Sam, who was sitting beside her on the couch as a means of being as close as possible to Five without actually being obviously next to her. This had been his steady tradition for so long now that the others had practically given up teasing him about it. "You tell her to let me do it," Jody demanded. "As her boss. And y'know, best friend or whatever."

Sam shrugged with his eyebrows, watching the movie coolly. "I would probably put myself pretty firmly in the 'Five not dying' category, but there's no harm in making one braid if you're willing to take it down and replace it."

Five glanced up at him, laughter in her voice and eyes. "Well, it's not up to you, is it? Fine." She continued, turning to Jody. "You can try it and see, but if I die I want it known that I blame you and I write you out of my will."

"She says it's not up to him, but she still does exactly what he says," Jody muttered theatrically to the room as several people giggled. Jody was by far the most outspoken Sam/Five shipper in Abel, but she was not necessarily the most passionate. Maxine had privately held down that title pretty much since Five had first stumbled in the gates and Sam had rushed down to greet her, eyes still full of tears over Alice. Even Janine had been known to crack a begrudging smile over Sam's 'little crush' and flick her eyes back and forth between the two of them late in the evening with more gentleness than one would have expected. Jack and Eugene, less subtly, had an open bet on the relationship that involved far more members of Abel than would have admitted to it.

But Five and Sam continued to circle one another, calmly denying every suggestion of romance. They seemed unaware that their wordless intimacy, lingering glances and overwhelming protectiveness of each other was slowly driving the township gossips mad.

But both of them ignored Jody's comment outwardly, though Five grinned secretively into her arms and Sam glanced down at her sideways after the moment had passed.

Jody was right: the braiding did help alleviate the remaining pounding in Five's head, and Sam noticed with relief that her shoulders were drooping in relaxation. She watched the horror movie with interest, but with eyes completely desensitized by the gore and drama of her daily life.

Sam tried to keep his eyes on the film but they kept straying to Five's hair, which had grown out quite long and shaggy since joining Abel. It was one of his favorite things about her, her hair. He liked seeing it all slickly braided back in the morning when she came down dull-eyed and pink cheeked to the gates to start her run. He liked seeing the way she impatiently untwisted her hair as she ran back in the gate and it shook loose around her sweaty face. And he liked seeing it fall wet and heavy around her shoulders after taking her mandatory shower upon re-entering the township.

Now he watched Jody's fingers twisting and pulling at it with a sort of jealous curiosity which he tried hard to smother on his face. And it wasn't just about Five, he told himself. It was mesmerizing to watch the lines and coils of hair curl around each other and form smooth ropes against her scalp. Sam sighed and wrapped himself more snugly in his woolen blanket as he drank in the peace of the scene. This was when he could relax, when all of his runners were at home and well. Jody's hands worked down the side of Five's hair and Sam let himself peek back one more time as she pulled the hair up and to the side… and he saw it. He saw the tiny tattoo right up against her hairline and he went rigid, remembering.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

I've already kissed her.

- remember me -

It was, Sam considered, a long string of random variables and stupid decisions that led to him and Five bunking up in a farm about 5 kilometers from Abel and preparing to spend the night. It certainly hadn't been any sort of plan when they had left Abel's gates at nearly 4 p.m. to make a quick run to the nearest town. Sam had been itching for a chance to get outside again and he finally used the excuse of wanting to find some more art for the runners' dormitory. Janine had scoffed at the idea, of course, but Sam usually got his way with her after a while and she finally had allowed them a quick run to the nearest village to scrounge up some posters from the walls, pretty much the last thing left in an area so close to a settlement.

Then it all sort of went tits up, as post-apocalyptic art runs so often do, and they were running for their lives from a horde of fast zombs in the direction dead opposite to Abel. And now here they were with the sun flaming out on the horizon and a few zombs still grunting and fluttering up against the doors like giant moths.

Barns always seemed like romantic things in films, but this one was musty and falling apart and still smelling mostly of urine. Still, neither of their lifestyles afforded much room for complaint in this situation, so they barricaded the doors in familiar silence, tossed some blankets onto some old boxes and a moldy hay bale, and started a small fire.

The day, while strange, had hardly been a turbulent one by their standards, and Five hummed contentedly under her breath after they finished their small dinner and watched the flickering flames.

Sam bit his lips, eyeing her.

It had been nearly a month since he had first seen the tattoo peek out under Jody's fingers and he had been avoiding every moment alone with Five out of terror that he would blurt something out, but here they were settled in for a whole night of one-on-one and probably not much sleep and, shit, he could feel the blurting building up behind his lips.

"Sam," she said abruptly, and he jumped in guilt. "I need you to do something for me."

"Hmm?" he asked.

"I want you to braid my hair."

Shit, she knows. Stay cool.

She turned to look at him when he didn't react. "I know you've been watching Jody do mine every night and honestly I suck at doing it to myself. My arms just don't bend right. I'd sleep so much better if I could take it out tonight and know I could get a new braid in the morning. So can you try it now? I promise it's not as hard as it looks. Please, Sam."

It was hard to believe there had ever been a time when he had made himself believe he wasn't in love with her. "Please, Sam". That's all it took.

He huffed to cover his reticence and moved over to sit on the box behind her. She ducked her head and slid the hairband from the point of the braid, untwisting the strands and letting her hair fluff out behind her. Her hair was sweaty and dusty and hadn't been washed in a day and a half, but the warm smell of her shampoo drifted up to him anyway and, oh no, he wasn't going to be cool. Had Maxine orchestrated this? Some kind of evil plan with zombie hordes and musty barns and his dirty fingers reaching out to the warm, sweet cloud of hair.

He cleared his throat. "This seems like one of those things that looks easier than it is."

She grinned. "You're a quick learner. And it's okay if you don't get it right. It just has to be up, is all."

He carefully started to pull the hair into three ropes, trying to remember how it looked when Jody did it, all fast and tight and professional. "Why can't you just do a ponytail then?"

She hesitated and her grin faltered and surely… surely Five wasn't trying to be cool too, was she?

She shrugged. "I like it better this way. I'm used to it. I run faster when things are the way I'm used to them."

He was too distracted to look too deeply into the flimsy excuse, the strange explanation that had directly resulted in him being over here, knees bumping into her back and fingers pulling loosely at her hair. He was marginally sure he had seen her run with a ponytail before, but the only reason she could be lying right now is if she was trying to bring him closer and surely Five wasn't…

He lifted the hair in a bunch suddenly and ran his thumb over the tiny tattoo at the top of her neck, right up against the hair. There wasn't going to be a better opening to this conversation.

"Have you ever noticed it before?" Five asked quietly.

"I noticed it a month ago when Jody did that side braid. And I wanted to ask you…" he paused.

"You wanted to ask what it means?" she prompted.

"I wanted to ask if you remember me."

His hands went still and her shoulders tightened. "What?" she asked.

Sam picked up the strands of hair with determination and began criss-crossing them quickly. "It was the November before the outbreak. My radio buddies – from the uni station, you know, not Jack and Gene – they wanted to take me out to celebrate the end of the semester. So they took me to this new club. I drank a little and then maybe a lot and I kept looking at this one girl in a grey dress so they made me ram into her. She was pretty trashed as well so we sort of just swayed together and I noticed her tattoo. Looked – well it looked creepily like yours," he paused and Five sat very still. The braid went to pieces in his fingers and he pulled it apart carefully, trying to focus on the work and not on the words he had so completely over-thought in this anxious month before telling her. "So anyway, we bumped into my sister, who was not supposed to be at a club and was kind of horrified at finding me there and she pulled me away and when I looked back, the girl was gone. I'm guessing she misunderstood what was going on. I looked for her a little bit but she was gone. Even after the outbreak I thought about her a few times. But I hadn't seen much of her face and it was dark and I was pretty out of it. Then. You know. The apocalypse. So. Anyway."

"Your sister?" Five asked.

"Yeah."

"I mean, of course I thought it was your girlfriend."

His hands trembled slightly in her hair and he stopped braiding. "So it was you."

She reached back and gently pulled the mangled braid from his fingers. "I remember. I mean, I hadn't until you mentioned it. I didn't see your face either, not really."

He huffed a sarcastic chuckle. "So of course you thought I was a cheater and made a break for it before my girlfriend could cause a scene. I make a great first impression."

Five finally twisted around, looked in his face. "I wouldn't say it was a bad one."

Sam folded his suddenly useless hands and cocked his head at her. "Did you think about me at all after you left? Or, you know, did you think about the useless cad from the club?"

She laughed suddenly and he remembered how to breathe. "I thought I might have gotten it wrong. The look on her face was more surprised than angry. So, yeah, I did think about it a bit. Thought about you a bit."

He smiled at her and turned her chin back down gently. Fluffing out the remains of the last braiding effort, he rallied himself and tried again, this time much improved. They sat in silence for a while. Five had her eyes closed, her forehead resting on her knees. Then she said, "so you've been thinking about this for a month?"

He winced. "I was trying to come up with a way of saying it that wasn't creepy. And a time to say it when I knew no one would overhear us."

"Why?"

He waffled for a minute. "Well, you know. Everyone is so weird about – things. Jack and Gene have a bet on us, you know. Maxine keeps orchestrating ways to get us alone together. And – so – anyway. I didn't want them to know that – technically – we've already kissed. In, sort of, another life. So it doesn't matter. But I thought if they overheard… and everyone overhears at Abel…"

"You're a good kisser," Five spoke quietly but clearly and his fingers stumbled again.

"Really?" he asked, in a smaller voice than he'd intended.

She grinned. "Yeah. That's what I remember. Hadn't you ever heard that?"

"Well, I mean, yes I suppose so. But I just thought…" I thought kissing you would be different. That there'd be no way to impress you. I thought… "I honestly thought you'd be weirded out to know that I already kissed you and knew about it for a month without telling you."

"Already" wasn't exactly the word he'd intended to use, but then none of this conversation had gone as planned. He twisted her hairband off his wrist and wrapped it clumsily around the little tuft of hair at the bottom of the braid and then, almost without meaning to, his thumb went out again to stroke over the tattoo. "I like it," he said quietly. He wasn't sure when exactly this had gone from an apology to a clumsy sort of seduction, but her very existence had a way of emboldening him and the moment had an all or nothing quality and he had caught a glimpse of her flushed cheeks and the way her breath had picked up when he touched her skin and now he was thinking about how she had called him over with flimsy excuses about the braid and maybe old musty barns were almost as romantic as advertised.

"Does it bother you," he asked quietly, "when they talk about us?

She smiled. "Not at all. People need something to think about, and besides, I do it too, thinking about who I would match up with whom. It's a small community."

It wasn't really what he was going for, but since he wasn't sure what he was going for, he just stayed quiet. Now he had proven himself by making the braid he undid it again as she'd asked, much more slowly this time, pulling apart the silken ropes and brushing through it with his fingers. Finally he parted the hair and began stroking her neck again, over the tattoo, and pulling at the tiny baby hairs on the back of her neck. He was determined now not to stop until he was asked to, and she seemed very content to let him continue. He waited until she was sitting very still, breathing deeply.

"There's something I need to talk to you about," he said seriously.

She sat up a little straighter in alarm, but didn't look back at him. "Okay…?" she prompted.

"You're a dirty rotten liar," he told her.

This time she sat up all the way. "Excuse me?"

"What is Janine going to say when I tell her we have a liar living in our midst?" He demanded.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on! You know I've seen you braid your hair yourself a dozen times over the last few months! And you're trying to tell me your arms don't bend right? You may have Jody fooled, but I know better. This is laziness, pure and simple!"

She giggled, ducking down under his poking fingers. "Okay! Okay, I admit it! I'm a liar! But it's not because I'm lazy," she pouted, dropping her head again. "It just feels good."

He laughed and started combing through her hair again, but a strange feeling was prickling in her stomach at the way she said it. He waited for another minute, trying to piece together the various things she had said over the course of the evening. I remembered you. Thought about you a bit. You're a good kisser.

"Are you trying to tell me," he began impishly, "that I'm a good hair braider too?"

And she turned around suddenly and was kneeling in front of him, pulling his face down while his hands were still in her hair and she was kissing him, fast and hard and famished and everything his mind had been so laboriously picking through was suddenly clear.

"Wait, wait, stop!" Sam exclaimed, several minutes later.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, head instantly cocked to listen for any threatening sounds.

He pulled his hands through her hair, marveling at his sudden permission to touch her without question. "Do you think Janine has a camera in here?"

Her shoulders relaxed instantly and she dropped her head and giggled, pushing hard on his chest, and he felt like his lungs were collapsing with happiness. She pulled his head back down and rested their foreheads together conspiratorially. "Until I'm at least a mile's run from Abel, I always just assume that Janine is probably watching."

He leaned forward to peck at her lips again, marveling at how easy it all was, watching the corners of her lips turn up softly. "I think we should probably work on our flirting, that got kind of creepy."

"We've been working on our flirting for at least a year now. I think we can handle a little creepy. You should work on shutting up more than you do, it looks good on you."

"Oh really? Well, can you think of something else I should be doing inste-?"

She could, instantly, and Sam shut up.