When Barney wasn't organizing and sorting fellow survivors out in the White Forest district, he'd work. He would come around after a long shift with Civil Protection – and he loathed working, but he loved you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Barney called through your shared quarters, voice tired but gentle. He found himself sidling up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, seeking warmth. "You holdin' up alright in here?"