Author's Note: I'd like to thank shutxthexfrontxdoor for their kind words. I didn't plan on updating again today, but I wrote three chapters yesterday, and I'm bored. And due to back-to-back updates this one isn't really as long as I had wanted it to be, but oh well.
They followed Lucy into the little house she had made her home. Merle and Daryl looked around, "You can take showers, but I don't think I have any fresh clothes that would fit either of you, and the hot water will only last about 30 minutes before it turns to ice." She sighed and turned to face them, "There's only one room, but I'm pretty sure the couch has a fold-out bed in it. If either of you are hungry, I can make some dinner."
Merle grinned, "You always knew how to treat a man."
She rolled her eyes, and turned to the fridge, rummaging through the few parishables she had left. Merle turned to find the bathroom, even if it meant putting his dirty clothes back on, he still wanted a shower.
Once the bathroom door was shut, Lucy turned to Daryl, "What's wrong?" she asked him.
He shook his head, "It's nothin."
She raised one eyebrow, but he didn't respond. She didn't want to push him, she knew he'd talk to her eventually, he always did.
"You look really good since...you know."
"Yeah, but I can't contribute it all to them, it does take some work to stay in this kind of shape."
He nodded, "What's that thing?" he asked, nodding towards her left wrist.
She shrugged, "I haven't quite figured it out yet. I swiped it when I was getting out." She unstrapped the device and they examined it, there was a hollowed out tube, and they could see the glint of something metal inside, but there didn't seem to be a release button or trigger of any sort on it. She sat it down on the counter, "I keep wearing it in case I manage to figure it out."
When Merle was done with his shower, Daryl decided to take one too, even if it was just an excuse to get rid of his torn shirt. Lucy started dinner, and Merle stepped up behind her, slipping an arm around her waist, "You know, Cherokee, I can't remember a time when you looked prettier."
She rolled her eyes, "Don't think you can sweet talk me, Merle. It's not happenin."
"Oh, so you got some muscles and some freaky mutation and you think you're too good for ole Merle now, don't cha?"
She took a deep breath and turned to face him, "I've always been too good for you, you just always had me so strung out I didn't realize it."
"Strippers are only one step up from whores," he sneered. He looked at the feathers in her hair, he couldn't remember ever seeing her without them. She was proud of her heritage, and she had every right to be. She was the great-granddaughter of a cheif. "What would grampy think if he knew how baby-girl made a living?"
"It's nice to know that you don't have to be drunk or high to be a dick."
Merle frowned, "Do you kiss your mama with that mouth?"
Lucy's mother had died seven years before, and he knew it. When her mother got sick, Lucy quit school to take care of her, then she got a job at the local strip club because it was the only way to afford her mother's medical bills. She wasn't happy about it, but waitressing at the bar wasn't enough. That's how she got mixed up with Merle in the first place.
"Don't you ever-"
"Ever what?"
"I'm not afraid of you anymore. Don't think you can get away with treating me like that again."
He leaned in, close to her ear and whispered, "You may have some muscles now, but I'm still bigger than you. You should watch yourself."
Lucy pushed him back, hard enough to slam into the counter, she swept his leg out from under him and he landed on the tile floor. She stepped on his left wrist, and knelt down, pushing her knee into his sternum, "Don't you ever threaten me again Merle Dixon, or I'll feed you to a walker, you understand?"
He managed a laugh, and she pressed harder, putting more of her weight onto his sternum, "I mean it Merle."
"Yes, ma'am, whatever you say." It was pure sarcasm, and she knew it. What had she ever seen in the man anyways?
She stood up and grabbed the deer meat that was still wrapped in deer meat and dropped it next to him, "Pan's in the counter. You can cook your own damn dinner." She stepped over him and he watched her walk into her little bedroom, grinning the whole time. "Same ole Cherokee," he muttered to himself after she slammed the door shut.
Daryl stepped out of the bathroom, half dressed, and looked over the scene. He seen Merle sprawled in the kitchen floor, smirking, "What's going on?" he asked.
Merle grinned and shook his head slightly, "Same ole, same ole."