"Oh look. Team Testosterone have returned from their hunt," Andrea quipped quietly to Amy. The younger girl stifled her giggle into her shoulder since she was up to her elbows in the bucket of suds.

"Please tell me no more squirrels." Lori muttered under her breath. "Am getting tired of the taste of nuts."

The four other women around the laundry area turned and looked at her for a split second before they burst into laughter. "Oh god," Lori said, absolutely mortified as she put her hand over her mouth.

The scuffing of boots on rocks behind them cut through the laughter. They all moved back to their tasks as Shane eyeballed them. "Hey, what's so funny?" He looked at Lori's red face.

She bit her lip and muttered "Nothin'," as she moved by Daryl and Murphy carrying the day's catch over toward the cooking fire. Murph nodded at her and continued on to where Carol was preparing the day's batch of ... whatever she had going in pot.

"Hey," she said, looking up at the boys.

Murphy's face lit up as their eyes met-the natural borne flirt. "Carol," he nodded at her. "We brought ye.." he paused and looked back at Daryl. "What did we bring 'er?"

"Groundhogs," the surly man provided.

Nodding his thanks, Murphy looked back at Carol. "Right. Groundhogs and squirrels, Lori's favorite."

Lori looked up at her name being spoken and blushed again when she realized who had spoken it. Murphy just winked at her as he handed over the string of meat to Carol.

"What the fuck is your problem, MacManus?" Shane asked, getting in the younger man's face. Shane was less than one inch from Murphy, their chests almost touching.

The dark haired brother just smirked at him."'sides havin a cop in me face? Not much 'd say. Daryl?"

The redneck just shrugged his shoulders, and walked away, heading toward the tent he and Melrle shared. "I'd say even tat ain't much of a problem, brother." He knew he didn't have to worry about Murphy getting his ass kicked by Shane. If Murph can almost best Merle in a dirty bar fight, he sure as hell could handle whatever Walsh decided to throw at him. And Shane's trusty Mossburg he carried across his shoulders like a cock on the walk was nothing compared to Murph slipping one of his Berettas out of its holster.

'Sides that, neither one of them had the balls to fire in camp. Too many people around to get hurt. Neither one of them were gonna risk hurting someone else because of their pride, or whatever reason they had for this pissing contest this time. Not to mention they were both down to limited ammo. Although the MacManuses kept their cards close to their chest with the rest of the camp, they had confided in him and Merle they were down to two clips each, plus what was still in their guns.

Shane took the last step forward, pressing his puffed up chest against Murphy. "Don't you ever let me catch you looking at Lori like that again. Do you understand me?"

Murph's signature smirk only went up a notch. "Ye are kiddin', right?" A crow of laughter echoed off the trees around him.

"What's that mean, MacManus?"

Murphy didn't think it was possible but the man's chest actually got bigger. What did he have in there? A balloon pump instead of a heart? Murph dropped his voice, not wanting to attract any more attention than they already had. And the little secret he was privy to, he didn't think the whole camp needed to hear, especially Carl. "Rumor has it, Shane, yer bestest friend in the world put dat shiny ring on her finger, but yet ye are t'one off bumpin' uglies wit her every chance ya get."

Murph turned when he realized Lori was listening to them. She stood with an arm across her chest, her other hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. She was beet red, and he knew it had nothing to do with the hot sun. He opened his mouth to apologize to the woman and that was his mistake, he realized too late.

The butt end of Shane's shotgun smacked Murphy across the cheekbone, making his head fly over his shoulder, spinning him for a second as stars danced before his eyes.

"Jesus Christ, Murph," he heard Daryl bitch from across the camp.

"Lord's name," came Connor's voice from the same vicinity. He must be back from wherever the hell he and Merle wandered off to earlier today.

But before his protective brother could get to them, Murph had one gun out and pointed at Shane's head. "Dat wasn't very nice, officer, now twas it?"

The former cop's only response was to chamber a round. "Stop it!" Lori screeched, moving between them. They were so close to one another she didn't have to extend her arms far to push at both of their shoulders.

"Lori," Shane said, his voice just above a growl. His eyes flicked over Murphy's shoulder signaling Connor and probably Daryl's arrival. Shane didn't like the Dixon nor the MacManus brothers much at all. What made him even more nervous was they appeared in the group as a packaged deal. And although he had yet to figure out what their connection was to each other, it made him very nervous. Any two of them could threaten his leadership role here, all four was a bad, bad idea, one that kept him up some nights.

"What? This doesn't concern me?" the woman asked sarcastically. "Just knock it off. Murph didn't mean any harm by it."

Murphy beamed at the compliment. "Aye! See Walsh, t'lady knows dis all in good fun. Maybe ye should yank dat stick out o' yer ass."

Lori's hand tightened on his upper arm. "You really aren't helping, Murph." She borrowed Connor's move she had seen countless times in the camp and cuffed him upside the head. "Put 'em away boys." There was a pause as both men continued to stare each other down. "Now. Don't make me take 'em away from you and put you in time out."

Murphy grinned, and reset the safety on his gun. As he slipped it back under his arm, Shane lowered the shotgun slightly, and Lori took the small gap between the men to push Murphy back.

"Let me get you cleaned up," she insisted, her eyes on the cut on his face, a guiding hand on his arm, pushing him away from Shane.

"Ye are gonna spoil me brudder, Lori," Connor informed her.

Lori looked at him as she pushed murphy toward the fire ring. "Isn't gonna hurt for me to look, is it, Conn?"

The over protective twin shrugged and wandered off to the outskirts of the camp with Daryl while Lori settled Murphy into a camp chair. She went to the RV to retrieve the first aid kit and stopped by the laundry to grab a clean wet rag. She returned to Murphy, dragging a chair up next to him.

He glanced at the kit across. "Not gonna be needin dat, lass. Nothin but a scrape," Murph said before hissing as she placed the rag on his face to clean up the blood.

Lori couldn't help a small grin. "Just a scrape, huh?" she asked, her face turning mock somber.

Murph shrugged, and let her clean him up. When she opened the first aid kit, and placed it on her lap, he looked at her. "I didn't mean it, Lori."

"Didn't mean what?" she asked distractedly, fingers flicking through the supplies, looking for ointment.

He smiled at her. "'m sure yer uglies are quite lovely."

Lori let out a disbelieving snort before glancing up at him and letting out an honest laugh. "You are unbelievable, MacManus."

"Can't fault a guy, could you?" His eyes met hers, his blues dancing with mischief.

Closing the case, she glanced past him, looking over his shoulder at Shane who could hear every word they shared, and who looked even more pissed off than when he held the shotgun to Murphy's head. "You are going to get yourself into trouble, mister."

Murphy did not even miss a beat, knowing who was listening. "Don't suppose I cou'd get a spankin fer dat, now could I?"

Lori laughed at him, standing abruptly. She grabbed the kit and threw the wet rag against his chest. "Have your brother tend to it that then," she said over her shoulder, walking back to the RV with a grin on her face.

Later that afternoon, Murphy walked by Conn sitting in the shade by Merle, and cuffed his shoulder. With the merest glance, Connor rose and followed Murphy's lead.

"Where ya'll off ta?" Merle asked. The only response he got was a wave of Connor's hand. "Limey bastards," he groused before falling back to sleep in his.

The brothers wove through the people in the camp, nodding and saying "'ello" as they went. They felt comfortable with most of the others here. But there was one that left them ill at ease.

"Carol, love?" Murphy asked softly as they made their way over to where she was hanging up laundry. Carol looked nervously over her shoulder toward her tent, making sure Ed was still inside asleep.

"Hey, guys," she gushed nervously, as she pushed her sleeves down, ensuring the cuffs brushed the backs of her hands.

The twins watched her fold her arms, tucking her hands under her arms.

She tried to smile, but it was forced and almost painful to look at. "What's up?"

Connor dropped down in a crouching position at the base of a nearby tree, letting Murphy take point on this one. Everyone in camp knew Ed Peletier beat his wife, and probably his kid too. But everyone else in camp pretended like it wasn't happening. Murph and he weren't everyone else.

Murph kicked at a rock and then moved closer to Carol. "Ye 'right?"

Carol bit her bottom lip and gave him a halfhearted smile. "Just fine, Murphy."

"And Sophia?" Murphy looked up at her from under his bangs, his eyes searching her face.

The skinny, pale mother gestured to where her skinny, pale daughter was playing a game with Carl by Lori and Shane. "She's fine."

Murphy nodded and looked up at her, trying to meet her eye. Carol however looked everywhere but at the two of them. "If dere's anythin ye need, ye'd let us know, aye?"

Carol nodded a little too enthusiastically. "You guys already take good care of the camp. Can't ask for more than that, can I?"

"Ye can," Connor interjected, as he stood. He looked at her hard. "And ye should."

Amy stopped in her tracks on her way down to the water's edge. She stood rooted to the spot, watching Murphy pull the too tight black shirt from his form. He let it drop to the rocks at his feet before pulling off his rosary, laying it on top of the shirt with reverence.

Andrea ran square into her with a huff and a curse. "What are you-"

Amy put a hand over her sister's mouth and motioned toward the man pulling off his jeans. "Oh there is a God," the older sister muttered through Amy's fingers.

The two women could do little but stare as the man shimmied, yes shimmied, out of his boxers and tossed them to the side as well. Even though they were a distance away, they heard a sharp word, in a foreign language. Andrea had noted at least three different languages exchanged between the brothers since they joined the camp.

Murphy waded until the water was over his waist and then dove under. Only then did the sisters look at each other. What did they do now? They had been headed down to the water's edge to do a little freshening up after the hot of the day was over, before the sun fully set. Looks like they weren't the only one with that brilliant idea.

They heard a splash and their faces went back to watch Murph surface. "What are ye lasses waitin fer?"

With a shrug and a giggle, Amy raced down the path, dropping her towel by Murphy's clothes.

"Amy!" Andrea called as her sister stripped off her T-shirt.

"Atta girl!" Murphy whistled as she dropped her shorts and toed out of her shoes.

"AMY!" Andrea yelled almost scandalized as her sister splashed out into the water, dressed in her underthings, swimming like a fish. The older sister stood on the shore, her arms crossed, and head shaking at the two of them acting like they were 10. Amy leapt at Murphy, hands set on pushing him under, as he dove under her, making her flop on her stomach instead.

"C'mon Andrea," he called when he surfaced again. Murphy swam towards the shore. "Water is lovely," he admitted as Amy launched herself onto his back, pushing his head under the water for a split second. Murphy stood up, and began walking toward Andrea, dripping wet, with her dripping wet sister clinging to him.

"Andrea!" they both shouted as he stopped when the water level reached his lower abdomen. She shook her head, and turned to pull her hat off, tossing it to the side before snagging the bottom of her shirt.

"Where's ta other one?" Daryl asked his brother as he gestured to one of the twins dozing by their dying fire after dinner.

Merle looked up at him with a half a smile, his eyes half closed. "Prolly off getting some alone time with Blondie." He gestured to her sister sitting next to an empty chair around another fire along with Shane, Lori, Dale, and a few others.

"Don't know what he sees in that girl," Daryl complained, moving toward the tent, set on going to bed and getting an early start in the morning.

Merle just snorted at his little brother, of course he didn't. "His dick, you idiot. Pussy's pussy, baby brother. It don't matter what flavor of bitch is wrapped around it."

"Well just remind his ass when he gets back, we're starting out early. I've seen sign, and I wanna see if we can get us a deer."

Merle closed his eyes in the chair, and just smiled. "'Member," he half-slurred. "He's goin' with us to Atlanta tomorrow. You're on your own with ta other one."

"No," Daryl started. "I thought this one was going with you."

The older Dixon just shook his head. "Which one of us is stoned here, brother?"

"Fuck it. I'll go alone." Daryl stopped unzipping the tent flap when he heard a metal squeak. Narrowing his eyes, he watched his truck move, slightly rocking. "Motherfucker using my goddamn truck?" Daryl asked, almost in disbelief.

Merle snorted, and then went back to snoring.