They go have breakfast with the group and Michael realizes that some of their supplies he hadn't considered have skyrocketed in value since the zombies rose

Michael's POV

The social area was already buzzing when you arrived with Sergeant Elizabeth Foreman close behind you. The long tables near the kitchenette were crowded. People sat on mismatched chairs or stood in small clusters, their hands cradling mugs and their plates holding simple breakfasts. The smell of coffee was so strong it overpowered everything else: rich, bitter, and invigorating. You saw Nicholas Barnes huddled with Jeremy Carter, pointing at a schematic for something. Melissa moved efficiently, passing out sliced oranges while Jade managed a line for scrambled eggs.

Everywhere, people were sipping coffee.

The reminder of that usually so normal routine and its implications in your change of circumstances made your mind flinch awake; the realization hit you like a physical thing: this was no longer just workplace necessity. Right now, with the world falling apart, people catching yawns was inevitable whenever they get enough restful sleep during nighttime without electric lights making their systems think it is still daytime, prompting nocturnal instincts and habits. Lethargy could become a quick road to **** once inevitable sleep deprivations began to take their toll, because many still had not gotten used to night shifts and patrols as the new normal.

Beside you, Elizabeth noticed the direction of your gaze and your thoughtful frown as you stared at the cold brew’s large, gallon-sized pot. You glanced at the one that had handled your first supply inventory last night and raised an eyebrow.

“Where did we even find this much?” you asked, the question finally slipping out as you acknowledged your quiet frustration at managing so many details of things they have all come to take for granted in modern civilization during pre-apocalyptic times...and the stress without coffee assistance becoming clearly apparent. “The still mostly stocked supermarket that Zhang and her team looted yesterday?”

Foreman nodded. “I did a secondary check-in with Zhang while I was cataloging our supplies before last night's feast.” She kept her voice low, her eyes scanning the room as she reported. “Just a casual headcount, but it turns out our building now holds a combined sixty pounds of ground coffee after all the extra packages that Zhang gathered from her team's supply run. It looks like the few people who looted supplies from it before the two dozen or so zombies became trapped inside and, by extension, deterred other people from looting the place until she wiped out the horde with so many sniper rounds, must have focused more on fresh food rather than coffee. But really, as I am sure you are also now realizing, sir, the alertness that caffeine would bring our group members and patrol shifts in this dangerous environment is actually useful to the point of perhaps even being life-saving.”

You absorbed that number, thinking as you nodded in agreement. Sixty pounds. Probably enough to fuel your group as it stood for two months or so, if rationed properly. Enough to keep people sharp, alert, and functional. You exhale slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you shake your head slightly. Coffee wasn’t just a luxury anymore. It had become a valuable tool that boosted their odds of survival.

"Smart thinking, Sergeant. Caffeine has certainly turned into an extra valuable commodity," you said, a flicker of gratitude echoing from your tone for this simple but vital insight.

Foreman smiled at you and then went on to explain that she had recommended to Melissa and Parvati, who had distinguished themselves with their cooking skills and speed during the feast last night, to start setting up a cold brew before they went to sleep so that it would be ready with enough coffee to drink by dawn. She noted that the process was not electricity-dependent and was quieter than any of the espresso machines they may have in the building, so it would be safer, and they would save energy, too. The only downside was that many people prefer their morning coffee warm, but for the time being, it felt like the better option to her.

You nodded slowly, absorbing the logistical and security logic of it. And you had to admit that your new lover had impressed you yet again. Elizabeth had considered a variable you had overlooked with an ingrained habit of assessing group readiness, and now all of them were reaping the rewards this morning to get their energy and alertness levels higher, bright and early. Hopefully, this will translate to more things to do quickly while they make use of their daylight hours.

“Damn good call, Elizabeth,” you finally said, the approval dripping from your tone. You clapped a hand on her shoulder, feeling the firm muscle beneath her shirt. “Consider that bit of visionary thinking logged as a big point in your favor to be cashed in as a future reward later.”

A genuine, unguarded smile broke across her face at that. “Just doing my duty, sir, but I am glad to have pleased you.”

You smiled back at her once more before turning your head again as the smell of the coffee brew drew you in. Greetings rippled toward you from the various members of your group, from raised hands to respectful nods, and a few “good morning, Michael/Boss/Master/Commander” being called out from around the area. You returned them with a tight, purposeful smile, your mind already ticking through logistics and ideas after the information the good sergeant had shared with you. You accepted a mug of the rich, dark, cold brew from cheerful Melissa after she added a bit of extra sugar just for you, which made you smile back in response to her initiative.

You took a sip after a deep breath to smell it, the not-too-bitter but cold intake of caffeine starting to sharpen your focus further. Lieutenant Mills and Sergeant Zhang were already seated at a central table, a map of the surrounding blocks unfolded between them, and they seemed to be comparing notes with Zachary, who had a notebook that they kept eyeing. From what you could overhear, Anjali wrote down some notes on what the Girl Scout and the computer science major had seen in the aerial footage of the solar-powered drone yesterday, before his own team had returned to the building, and they were now comparing notes on seemingly abandoned buildings of interest that may have useful supplies for them. You were about to join them when Parvati Patel appeared at your elbow, her kind face a bit hesitant.

“Master Michael, a quick word, please?” She said quietly, wringing her hands on her apron. “It is about that tall soldier that we were treating in my apartment, Sergeant Vanders. My Aanya and Anjali are upstairs with the doctors and with Sergeant Garcia. They asked me to tell you she has woken up.”

You lowered your mug as your eyes widened in surprise. “That’s excellent news,” you said, feeling relieved.

“It is, but…” Parvati paused as she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a confidential murmur. “She was very confused, sir. Very agitated. The last thing she remembered was fighting a great many of those…walking dead. Waking here, with strangers, and learning for the first time that you have always owned her has been a shock to her system. She is getting the full story now from Doctor Cruz and her girlfriend, Sergeant Garcia, and they are running tests to be sure she is fully recovered. They thought it best she have a moment to…process before you came up.”

Your eyes widened slightly as the implication settled. Sergeant Vanders had awakened, but you weren’t there when she did. She was learning about your ownership claim over her, the absolute shift in her existence from others, without your presence to temper the revelation and perhaps do some damage control when it came to first impressions. Heck, she hadn't even met you for the first time yet.

You pictured Kristen Vanders both from her slumbering form in your memories and from the tales Garcia and her teammates had told you about her: strong, achievement-driven, bold, and a fifth-generation soldier. You couldn't help but wonder, how would that kind of mind, wired for duty, excellence, and hierarchy, reconcile the ****, irrevocable bond she found herself in? And would this change anything about the nature of your written claim of power over her?

“I see,” you finally said slowly, the words measured since you had no concrete answers at the moment.

You took another, longer drink of coffee, using the bitterness in the taste to ground yourself. “Thank you, Parvati. You and your daughters handled that well. Let them continue. I’ll check on her myself after we’ve coordinated the day here.”

Parvati bowed her head, relief softening her features, and melted back toward the kitchen area. You stared at the dark surface of your coffee, your thoughts a turbulent blend of concern and cold calculation. Then you shook your head, pushing the worry down and compartmentalizing it. Vanders was claimed already. While you still don't know why that marker did what it did when you wrote your name on people, so far, you have had no reason to suspect your absence in her presence would make the new bond any less absolute as long as she saw the claim on her skin first, which she already had from what Parvati told you. Any needed adjustments from here on out will probably just be a matter of time and your personal touch.

So, you turned your attention to the map-covered table, where Mills and Zhang were waiting. The barely contained physical threat in the nearby building was more pressing. Thus, you set your mug down with a firm click.

“Alright,” you said, your voice cutting through the breakfast murmur and pulling the eyes of those nearby. “Let’s talk about our plans for the day and any suggestions you may have, people. That building is not going to clear itself.”