A/N: Hey, guys and gals! So in the midst of writing chapter four of When the Dead Start Walking, the Piper Starts Flying, I've come up with this little morsel to make the time between chapters a little more bearable. It's pure comedy and allows me to have some fun with TWD. I need to blow off steam, and writing humor is always a great way of doing so. So yeah, this contains an OC, but she has nothing to do with Prue from my other more serious fic. She's just for fun basically. Just a heads up, canon characters may purposefully be OOC at times. I really don't have a lot to say about this, just read it and I guess we will see where this goes…

Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Walking Dead' or any of its related characters. Those are all property of Frank Darabont, Robert Kirkman, AMC and all others who hold copyright to this franchise. However, all original characters made up in this story are mine.


"Shane, are you in the John?"

Rick Grimes, slightly delirious, twisted his head to look towards the bathroom that was connected to the room he occupied in the hospital, but there came no form of answer. Sighing, he turned his head the other way to take a look at his vase of flowers from dispatch, only to find that they were not so beautiful anymore. They were wilted and petals had begun to shed from their stems. Rick's eyebrows subconsciously rose, his mouth gaping. Curious, he glanced at the clock on the wall and found that it had stopped working.

Well, this was all very strange...

With difficulty the police officer got out of his bed (or rather fell out of it) and hobbled over to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and grimaced at his reflection; he'd grown a beard. When had that happened? How long had he been out? No one bothered to keep him properly groomed?

Licking his lips, Rick realized he was more than a little dehydrated. He tried the sink's tap, and it was still running water. He gulped up as much as he could before starting on his way to figure out just what the hell was going on. Opening his door proved to be difficult, as there was a friggin' gurney bed sitting right in front of it! What dumbass would do that? The sheriff peeked his head out, ready to have a few choice words with the first nurse to cross his path. However, he was met with what appeared to be a very abandoned hospital. He blinked, utterly confused, then waddled out into the hall. As he shuffled along, the tiny ball of impending doom that had started growing in the pit of his stomach back in his room was now spreading throughout his entire body. Things were not looking so good and Rick was beginning to panic in his mind. He stopped at the corner of the corridor where a nurse's station was set up and frantically searched for a flashlight, because some of the electricity had apparently gone out. The place was demolished by what he could see. He wondered if that long talked of WWIII had finally occurred while he was in his coma. That would suck. Oh well, life goes on…

After a good few minutes of ransacking the station's desk, Rick believed he was out of luck. Seems all of the flashlights were gone. Fortunately though, there was a single pack of matches left behind. Snatching this, the cop withdrew a matchstick and swiped it across the pack's pad. It gave off a pitiful glow, but it was better than nothing. Peering over the desk of the station, the man nearly shit his pants. There, huddled in the corner, was a woman. And she was staring at him. And she was oddly smiling.

"Jesus!" Rick gasped, jumping back in fright.

"Hey!" the woman popped up unnaturally fast. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, Buddy! I'm just a girl. No real threat."

"What-what the hell are you doing back there?" he said, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

"Um, hiding." she said blandly.

"From what?" Rick questioned, apprehensive of her presence. "What the hell is going on here? This place looks like a tornado hit it. Where is everyone?"

The woman snorted, which made Rick tilt his head. He stiffened as she walked around the desk, giggling all the while. She too was in a hospital gown, he noticed. Leaning with one arm against the counter, she let her head rest on her right shoulder as she looked at him with a horrifyingly casual smile.

"Dude-" she began, but then stopped short, her smile fading. "Actually, I have no witty comment to make. I'm as clueless as you are right now."

Rick sighed and rolled his eyes, though it was too dim for her to see.

"Great."

He turned and started making his way around the corner down the next corridor, knowing she'd follow. He could hear her feet slapping along the linoleum behind him a few seconds later.

"Where are you going?" she asked, coming up close.

"I'm going to find a way out of here and figure out what's happened."

"Can I come with you, please?"

Rick halted and stumbled a bit when she collided with him.

"Whoa!" she caught his arm before he could fall. "Um, sorry."

"It's alright." The policeman grunted.

"So, can I come with you?" she repeated, a hopeful tone in her voice.

Rick was surprised she'd even ask such a silly question. Why would he leave some defenseless lady alone in a place like this? He wouldn't be a gentleman for it, that's for sure. Rick Grimes considered himself a gentleman. It was part of his personal tao.

"Of course."

She let out a soft sound of delight, like a dog holding in an excited whine at the sight of a treat from its owner.

"Oh, thank you!"

"You're wel-" he was cut off by her before he could finish.

"My name's Audrey. What's yours?"

"Uh, Rick."

"Oh, that's cool. Hi, Rick, how are you today?"

"Pretty disturbed. How about you?" he couldn't believe he was doing this with her.

"'Bout the same, except now I'm a lot less so now that you're here."


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