It was a dark and rainy night in the South. The bar wasn't the best place to be during one of these nights. Not only were there drunks but more of them were inside because of the rain and not wanting to get wet. And then you had the people who had come in just to get out of the rain but ended up getting drunk because well, they were in the bar. That was Lucy's problem. Albeit she wasn't drunk she was still inside the bar due to the rain. Her car had broken down and her sister wasn't answering her phone. She was probably working. So the red-auburn haired woman was sitting quietly in a booth staring outside into the dark. The rain just kept pouring down, it seemed like it would never stop.

Her eyes were feeling heavy and they stung with the lack of sleep. Elbow resting on the table, her chin in her hand, she felt her eyes slowly closing. The exhaustion was overwhelming from the earlier boxing training and working out. Not only that but she had to run around the city without any means of transportation other than her own two feet. Before she knew it her head hit the table with a thud. She made no effort in picking her head back up. Lucy was way too tired and figured that she might as well get a little bit of sleep while waiting for the rain to finally stop. Even with the loud people, glasses clanking together, and yells as a few of them got into a fight.

"Hey, ya' think we should just wake 'er?" She could hear someone asking someone else. He had a lighter voice but the way he spoke made it obvious that he held some seniority over the person to whom he was speaking to. The person didn't answer but she figured that he gave some sort of body signal because she felt someone take a seat beside her and put his arm over her before shaking her awake.

"Hmm?" Lucy hummed out in an automatic response to being woken up. "Go the fuck away," she said without raising her head to see who the person was that was trying to wake her up. But she knew that if his hand went anywhere other than her shoulders she would hit him in the dick.

"Ah, you some fight in ya'?" The man laughed. An annoying laugh before his hand began to move toward her chest. However he stopped and groaned when Lucy's hand quickly hit between his legs. "Bitch," he hissed out as his hand instantly went to hold his crotch.

"Fuck off," Lucy said as she finally raised her head to see who the man was. Or what he looked like, she should say. An older man, buzz cut and wearing a vest. The other was a younger looking guy, however she would guess he was at least in his mid-thirties. His hair was short and he wore a sleeveless flannel shirt. Her eyebrow cocked when the older one looked like he was about to hit her but instead he simply got up slowly and headed over to the bar to get some ice for his throbbing groin. Her eyes darted back to the younger one with a blank expression on her face. The two stared quietly at each other before the other called him over. Daryl…

He stood up and headed over to his brother before walking back over. "Need a ride?" He asked indifferently.

That was the first of many times that Lucy and Daryl sat quietly across from each other at the bar. Although they never spoke it was sort of an unspoken agreement. They would meet there, and should one of them need a ride the other would be there to give them a lift. They didn't speak other than to ask if the other needed a ride or ask if they could get a ride. They never exchanged names nor did they speak of their past or even what happened that day. Silent companions.

The ritual continued for weeks. It seemed pointless honestly. Sitting across from someone only to keep quiet while sipping at some beer, never speaking about anything important. It wasn't until Lucy wasn't there at the bar for a full week that the man had told himself that should she show up again, he would actually speak to her. And sure enough Monday she was there, sitting at the same booth wearing a blue and black flannel shirt over a black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. Her hair, just like always, and tied in two braids on each side of her head. A piercing in the middle of her lower lip, and she looked less than happy. Daryl walked over and took a seat across from her. They were silent for a few moments before finally she spoke up instead of himself.

"I fucking hate people, you know?" Lucy said in a mumble as she stared out the window. "Can you believe that someone actually hit my sister with their fucking car and then tried to blame her, as well as tried to get us to pay for his god damn bill to get his car fixed!" Her eyes darted to Daryl who was staring at her, his eyes locked onto hers.

"You should have tried hitting him with your car and then say you're even." Daryl voiced in a serious tone. That's what he would have done. However he was surprised to hear that this beautiful young woman had such a vocabulary. "Is your sister alright?" He added after a few seconds.

"I should do that…" The woman mused thoughtfully. But then that would just bang up her car once more. Lucy didn't have enough money to pay for that. "She's my other half, of course she's fine." Lucy said after taking a sip of her beer. "Oh she's my twin, I mean. I'm not like one of those sick chicks who is in love with her own sister."

Daryl cocked his eyebrow; there were two of them? Needless to say that was kind of surprising. He had to wonder if her sister had the same eyes as her. Her left one was dark green where as her right was a lighter green, about ten shades lighter or so. Honestly it was a very interesting and attractive trait. He nodded his head, "Well that's good. At least now you two can gang up on him and beat his ass." His eyes moved down at his own beer as he drank more of it.

"Fuck that, two on one isn't fair. I'll just beat his ass into the ground while Shelby films it or something," Lucy said with a small smirk on her face. Obviously she was seriously thinking about it. After all, no one messes with her sister and gets away with it. "Oh, so that Merle guy you're always with… he's your brother right?"

The blue eyed man chuckled slightly; she was interesting for sure. Not like most women who were all about scratching, biting, and pulling hair. Or who were worried that oh, fighting makes you sweat! Or you could break a nail~. Nope, she wasn't like that obviously. The mention of Merle's name brought his eyes back up to hers. "Yup, my older brother. Why?" He rested his folded arms on the table and leaned forward slightly.

"He's a jackass and you're not… at least not as big of a jackass." Lucy said while shrugging a little. Her eyes once more went to her beer before her eyes moved back up to Daryl's. "I'm Lucy, by the way. Lucrezia Grammic." She said upon realising that she had never actually said her full name. Or even just her nickname.

"Daryl Dixon." He replied; it was finally nice to have a name to the face. Daryl always referred to her as the redhead. He took another drink of the beer as he turned to look out of the window. It was kind of nice being able to just sit and talk about whatever instead of having to hear his brother saying 'oh and did you see that nigger over there? I bet I could beat his ass with one hand!' or something with a ring to it like that. It wasn't like Daryl didn't love his brother but it could get a bit tiresome having to always deal with him and his raving racist ways.

"Daryl Dixon," Lucy repeated while nodding.

The two began to talk. Every night, when they sat together, they spoke about nothing serious. What they did for a job, how other people really sucked, nothing too personal. Nothing too serious and nothing to denote that either of them felt more than the other was nothing but a friend. Companion to be exact, friend was too strong of a word. However one night was different. That night, as the two sat across from each other, everyone was silent as they listened to the TV announcer. There had been an outbreak of infected people. The undead were walking. That wasn't the last time the two saw each other. It was, however, the last time the two would see each other and part easily, however.