Disclaimer - Dana is my OC. I have no ownership over the magnificent Murph, the precious 10K, or the realm they reside in, known as Z Nation. Tis an ambitious and daring show, that deserves more recognition. So here I am helping.


Murphy didn't like this new group. They were too calm, and too clean. 10K didn't seem to mind them though. Fortunately their leader Stephen, didn't ask a lot of questions. He was a tall man with broad shoulders, pale skin, short rusty hair, a long brow and hazel eyes that were far apart. Stephen had four comrades traveling with him, but Murphy didn't pay much attention to the rest. Except for her, but only after she approached him.

Her name was Dana, and she was the youngest of the bunch - late twenties, possibly early thirties. She was average height, petite but curvy where it mattered. She wore her long brown hair in a bun fastened to the nape of her neck. Her eyes were a deep blue, a perfect offset to her fair skin. There was a jagged scar along her chin, trailing upward near her mouth. 10K intended to ask her about it, when he knew her better.

Murphy stood apart from the group, his arm angled alongside a filing cabinet. 10K sat a few feet away, enjoying soup straight out of the tin. Dana was smiling, as she drew near, which inspired a frown from Murphy. "Something you want Dainty?" he greeted stiffly, fastening a nickname upon her.

"Yes actually," Dana replied, unfazed. "I'd like to be able to see your bitemarks up close."

"They're real." Murphy said flatly.

Her smile slipped, confusion scribbling itself on Dana's face. "Was that up for debate?" she blurted.

"You tell me." Murphy retorted, straightening from his slumped position. "Doesn't a pretty young thing like you, have something better to do than gawk at me?"

"Of course, I could molest 10K, but I figured - baby steps." Dana responded cheekily.

Having overheard her, 10K began to sputter on his soup. While Dana's head was turned to admire 10K pounding himself on the chest, a smirk tinged on Murphy's lips. He didn't allow her to see it, but he did open up his shirt. Dana's response was untypical - rather than shy away, she crooked her head for a better look. There was no repulsion or fright in her dark eyes, just a gleam of genuine curiosity.

"What were you, before the apocalypse?" Murphy asked.

Dana met his gaze briefly, before reverting her attention to his abdomen. "Does it matter?" she replied.

"Well you're studying my chest like it's some kind of art exhibit, so yeah, I'd say it does."

"Thought you'd be used to that Murph."

"I'm not. Especially not the way you look at it..." Murphy huffed. Her unwavering stare unnerved and aroused him, not that he'd admit to either.

Sensing his aggravation, Dana began buttoning his shirt for him. "I don't know how the others look at you, but I look at you as you are." she stated.

"Which means what? And speak plainly Dainty." Murphy requested shortly.

"You may be the cure bearer, but you're a person first and foremost. I was nothing special before the Zs, still nothing special now, but I am a person nonetheless." Dana responded, flattening the collar of his shirt.

"Individualism is important to you, that it?" Murphy guessed, his tone nonchalant.

"Maybe. Or maybe I just like making men flustered." Dana replied, with a coy smile, and a swift shrug. She giggled, then began to walk away, winking at 10K.


"Hey Dainty, Stephen wants you to...the hell you doing?" Murphy stammered, staring dumbfounded at Dana hunched over a sketchbook.

"What does it look like?" Dana simpered, her hand flying across the paper.

"You're drawing me..why are you drawing me?" Murphy demanded, though his voice was strained in awe. Dana had talent, there was no denying that.

Sighing, Dana opened her sketchbook flat against her lap, and flipped back a few pages. Murphy saw that she had also drawn 10K, and a few people Murphy didn't recognize. "I draw everyone I meet Murph. It's just become a habit." she explained.

"Sounds like a stupid habit." Murphy said bluntly. "So that's what you were, before the Zs, an artist?"

"A failed artist." Dana agreed, continuing to sketch out the finer details in Murphy's face.

"What's changed?" Murphy baited. "Besides the Zs.."

"Now, for all anyone knows, I could be the only artist alive." Dana said, her voice ripe with pride.

"..You shouldn't draw me."

"As you can see, it's a little late for that."

"No you could stop, you should stop." Murphy responded, earnestly. His eyes became glued to the bitemarks she had drawn with precise form.

"No one's going to see this but me...and whomever finds it, when I die, I guess. So relax, alright?" Dana told him. "Besides, I doubt anyone would recognize the Almighty Z Whisperer Who Cured Us All. They'd probably take one look and think that you were a Z, plain and simple..."

"Gee thanks Dainty..." Murphy scowled, leering ruefully.

"Murph I didn't mean...wait, what did Stephen want?" Dana called, setting her sketchbook aside as Murphy stomped off. "Murphy!"

Murphy didn't respond, didn't even look back. Dana grumbled to herself half-heartedly. 10K made his presence known at last, startling Dana. "So you lied. When you said you were nothing special, you lied." 10K mused, from the corner of the room.

"No one gave a shit about my artistic ability, 10K. Not then, now not ever." Dana said, running her fingertips against her temple.

"I give a shit. You're good." 10K said.

Dana smirked slightly. "Thanks 10K.."


Murphy had hoped Dana would never witness what he was capable of, but there came a time when he had no choice.

Separating from the others had been stupid. Equally stupid, was Dana getting her tire iron lodged in the maul of an oversized Z. What was a girl her size doing wielding a heavy weapon like that anyhow? Regardless, Dana had swiftly kicked its head in, but had done so in such a brash fashion that the nasal cavity had collapsed around her weapon.

"Yank harder Dainty!"

"I am trying!"

"More Zs are comin', try harder!" Murphy hollered.

"Shouting in my ear isn't helping goddamn it!" Dana snapped, finally prying the tire iron free. She was winded, unable to run, unable to fight. And the Zs were only getting closer.

Murphy swiftly grabbed Dana, the tire iron spinning out of her grasp. It clanged around in an awkward half-circle, before shuddering onto the tiled floor. Murphy pushed Dana against the wall, and pressed himself against her, effectively shielding her from the scrambling Zs.

A total of eight Zs ran past. The ninth one, lingered, gazing intently at Murphy. Dana began to quiver against him, as minutes ticked by. Murphy stared down the stubborn Z, willing it to run off after the others. The Z complied.

Grimacing, Murphy glanced down at Dana. Her blue eyes were still wide in fear, her mouth slightly ajar. Murphy eased off her, thinking begrudgingly to himself, that she now viewed him the same as anyone else. It had been nice while it lasted.

"You..saved...me..." Dana stammered, her mind reeling.

"You're welcome." Murphy retorted. "We..." The rest of his sentence was cut short by Dana lunging forward to bask him in a kiss.

"Thank you." Dana breathed happily.

Murphy nodded awkwardly, a single thought circulating in his mind - she was his now. Dana took half a step back, then paused. Her eyes glazed over, her hand reaching for the base of her neck. Her fingers unhooked the bobby pins, unbraided the tie, and unleashed her hair. "Better..." Murphy mumbled, watching hungrily as Dana glided her fingers through her scalp. Murphy's eyes darted to the tire iron. Dana stepped toward it, and bent down ever so slowly, to retrieve it.


Stephen generally, was laid back. Not as much as Doc had been naturally, but still perhaps too laid back for a post apocalypse survivor. Then he invited Murphy into his flock.

"...That's it, I want you," Stephen paused to shove 10K. "and your decaying friend outta here Punkie Brewster!" he declared, thumbing over his shoulder for emphasis.

Dana gingerly urged 10K aside, and stationed herself between him and Stephen. "You touch him again and I swear I will feed you to the Zs on a silver platter." she warned, pointing a finger in Stephen's face.

"Can you hear yourself Dana?" Stephen retorted. "What has that damn zombie done to ya?"

"Murphy is no Z and you goddamn know it." Dana hissed between clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry could you repeat that? I was distracted by that enormous bite on your neck!" Stephen rebutted angrily, gesturing unnecessarily.

From his perch against the wall, Murphy felt himself smirk. The mere mention of the bite flooded Murphy's mind with euphoria. Murphy had bitten Dana in the troughs of sexual release. It had been perfect, she had been perfect, and a rare possessiveness had consumed Murph.

Stephen would never understand, how could he with jealousy blinding him?

"I did it to protect her Steve. She won't become a Z now." Murphy announced, stepping into the heated debate.

"Oh is that what you told her?" Stephen growled.

"Enough Stephen." Dana said. "Murph and 10K aren't leaving."

"I'm the leader, in case you've forgotten, and I say they're gone." Stephen argued.

Dana's eyes combed over the stoney faces of her comrades. Correction - former comrades. "Then I'm leaving too." Dana told them.

"Fine...Not like we need a cradle-robbing, corpse-fucker walking amongst us anyway." Stephen declared. "Bad for morale."

The look of minor hostility on Dana's face cracked into an ill smile, reminiscent of Murphy's own glower. Her fist connected with Stephen's throat, and the big loaf staggered sideways. Dana cast an empty glance at the group she once belonged to, and then she beckoned 10K close. He was taller than her, just as Murphy was, but Dana looped an arm around 10K's shoulders, and fitted her other palm against Murphy's back. "Tell me 10K, when exactly did I rob your cradle?" Dana asked with serious wonderment.

"Fuck if I know." 10K smirked.


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