The troops re-gather

Amanda wipes her brow as she steps back to cast a critical eye over her work. She hasn't used Steve's SawzAll in a while, and a light sheen of sweat coats her body, staining the armpits of her tank top and pooling between her breasts. But she's managed to carve a crude doorway in the wall of their living room, and though the air is heavy with drywall dust, the masks she found in the back of the tool closet seem to work well enough.

"I can't believe you're doing all this for that asshole," Abby says. She's curled up on one of the chairs, sullenly watching her mother work and occasionally - only on request - handing her a tool. Amanda barks out a laugh.

"I'd be doing a lot more if I could trust you to actually help," she says dryly. "When are you going to get it through your head that this is the way things are, now? We need to be prepared for anything."

"And that means cutting a hole in the wall because some bitch told you to?"

"Language. Or I'll tell Mary, and she'll wash that mouth out with soap, at the very least." Abby stiffens and looks away, and Amanda feels a twinge of mingled guilt and satisfaction in her heart. I hate scolding her, but she really does need to get with the program. "Like she said, we need more space. And no one's using that apartment, so..."

"Looks pretty nice." The new girl - Lily, she'd said - is back from hauling the drywall chunks out of the apartment and to the garbage chute. "They left it furnished like that?"

"I think it's for the sale. Staging, they call it." The furniture in the other penthouse is bland and modern, inoffensive blacks, grays, and whites. She and Lily wander in, peering around cautiously - but nothing jumps out at them. "Yes, this'll be nice. With you, Jaz, Olivia, and Mary, we're going to be a bit crowded here...some of you can sleep in this wing." And where will I sleep? she wonders. Wherever Grant chooses to put her, she supposes. He might want her bedroom after all, and though she'd felt - desired, earlier today, in a way that she hasn't in years, she isn't going to presume that he'll be taking her into his bed. Not every night, at least. Though hopefully occasionally... "We'll have to see what Grant says."

Abby leans in the makeshift doorway, eyes sullen as she slips her mask off. "Grant this, Grant that. Don't either of you have any independent thoughts left?"

Lily snorts. "I've got plenty of independent thoughts left, kid. Right now, I'm thinking that I'm getting sick of your whining." She glances at Amanda. "Why didn't Grant claim her, again? He seemed willing enough to order Mel around..."

"I asked him not to. Back when I...didn't know any better. But he's honoring it, for now, I guess," Amanda says with a shrug. Abby's straightened up, looking intently at Lily.

"What did Grant do to Mel?" she demands.

Lily laughs. "Nothing, really. In fact, specifically nothing. Which your sister wasn't happy about, she was basically begging him to fuck her."

"What? Mel?" Abby shakes her head. "No, that's - that's not her."

"Of course it is, honey," Amanda says with a sigh. "Your sister is a mature, claimed woman now. She's your age - I shouldn't have to explain to you what her hormones are like! And since she's claimed, there's only one man in the world she'd focus them on. Unlike some," she adds acidly.

Abby colors. "I - that's not fair."

"Oh?" Lily glances back and forth between them, interest piqued. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything! I was just...I was experimenting..." Abby protests.

"She's been a little slut for a while now," Amanda says tartly. "Blowing boys in the broom closet...stuffing toys up her asshole and sending pictures to her boyfriends...one time she and her slutty little friend Ruby went to a concert and ended up getting bent over the fucking cases backstage by roadies. Not even the actual band! They must have had a field day; two slutty little eighteen-year-old girls too stupid and high on proximity to fame not to give up their holes." Amanda sighs, shaking her head in disgust. Abby is bright red.

"I - how did you know all - "

"Oh, sweetie, I've kept a close eye on you girls all your lives. I just wanted you to be able to make your own mistakes...unless they get you in real trouble." Amanda puts a consoling hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Why don't you just ask Grant to claim you, hon? It would feel so much more peaceful and less confusing than all these emotions you're clearly struggling with. I'm sure he'd do it if you asked. And maybe you could even put those slut skills you've learned to use pleasing him!"

"I - I don't - how can you - " Abby sputters, jerking away from her. "God! You'd do anything he asked, wouldn't you?!"

"Of course I would! But Abby, he hasn't asked me to say that. I just truly think it might be best for you...give you peace of mind. Grant's a perfect gentleman. So considerate - especially given what he deserves." Amanda sighs. "I know you have a hard time seeing this, but we really should be grateful to him. He's taken us all under his wing, protected us...even you, without claiming you! Fucking that needy little snatch of yours seems like the least possible repayment, and if he really wanted to I'd gladly help. Make it as easy as possible for him to use you, and you to accept it. But it'd be a lot easier if you just asked him to claim you."

Abby is staring at her mother in horror, mouth working silently, when the front door clicks open. "Hello! We're back!" Mary calls from the front hall.

"Through the living room!" Amanda calls back. She pulls some of the drop cloths off her furniture as Mary and Jaz come into view. Each of them carries a long rifle, and Mary has a heavy-looking case in her free hand. Jaz has some large, bulky brown paper bag as well. Amanda's heart beats faster, nervous, as she eyes the guns. "Looks like your trip was successful..."

"Yep," Mary says. She takes in the hole in the wall, gazing up and down it appraisingly. "You did a good job, too, it looks like. Also - " She turns to Lily. " - who the hell are you?"

"Lily," Lily says. "Grant claimed me when I answered my door an hour or two ago...sent me back up here to help out. You must be the famous Mary?"

"Famous? Ha. I guess so. I don't mind that," Mary says with a grin.

"I'm Jaz," Jaz adds, giving Lily a nod. "Amanda, there somewhere we can put these guns?"

"They really ought to be locked up," Mary says. Her eyes flick toward Abby, who's watching them all, tense. Amanda silently concurs.

"I dug out a bunch of Steve's old home repair stuff to start adding security features," she says. "I saw a padlock in there, and I'm pretty sure there were some hasps from a project he never finished. We could put it on the door to the hall closet."

"Good," Mary says with a nod. "Let's get to that. Don't want a loose gun in the house." Amanda nods and heads off to follow those orders. Lily goes with her, giving Mary and Jaz a nod as she passes.

"Have you been helping out at all?" Mary asks Abby sternly as the other two women depart. The teen shrugs sullenly. "Hey. When I ask a question, you answer."

"Why?" Abby snaps.

"Because Grant left me in charge while he's not here," Mary says sharply. "So unless you want me to come up with a creative punishment for you being a little brat, you speak when spoken to. And with respect. Got it?"

Abby drops her eyes to the floor resentfully. "...Yes, ma'am."

"Better." Mary smirks down at Abby as she reaches out and strokes her hair. "You sure you don't want Grant to claim you? He really intends to let you be free, I think, but I don't know how long that'll be sustainable...unclaimed women are becoming a pricey commodity fast, in this world."

"We traded one for all these guns," Jaz says with a little laugh, settling on the couch with the rifle held gingerly across her knees.

"W-What?" Abby stammers, looking back and forth between them.

"Mmhm," Mary says, idly threading her fingers through Abby's short hair. "Pawnbroker Jaz knew didn't want money. He needed a bitch. So we found him one." Her hand tightens briefly, suggestively in Abby's locks. "Some guys out there...rough types. He had to be reminded to claim her, rather than just, well. **** her. Fortunately we insisted, we're not monsters. When we left she was bent over his counter getting ready for him to plow her ass, and she looked thrilled about it." Abby swallows, her eyes wide, as Mary tilts her chin up to her. "All I'm saying is...it could be a lot worse for you, out there. Got it?"

Abby nods, and at Mary's raised eyebrow, she hoarsely stammers, "Y-Yes...ma'am."

"Hmmm. On you knees." There's a tense moment, then Abby slowly slides her legs off the chair and sinks to her knees in front of Mary. "I'm the one who told Grant a free girl could have uses...thank me for keeping you free, and kiss my foot."

There's a long, crackling tense moment. Then Abby slowly bends forward. "Thank you for keeping me free, Mary," she mutters. And she plants a kiss on the top of Mary's battered tennis shoe. Behind the girl's bent form, Jaz makes eye contact with Mary and grins, amused.

"These little rich bitches really will do anything," she comments. Mary chuckles and nods as Abby, face red, sits back on her heels.

"They really will," she says with a smile. And she pats Abby contemptuously on the head.