"Let's fuck with 'em," Murphy grinned and covered his mouth as Connor waved to the group at the top of the rise. They'd followed a car down the switchback and had spotted the RV with it's lookout. Obviously there was a camp.

Connor kept his arms up, smiling and waving excitedly, "What? Why? They probably have food. Water. We need that shit."

"'m not saying we don't. Or that we're really mean or anything. But they don't know we speak English."

There was second of silence before Connor was cracking up next to him, "So what do we speak?"

"Spanish, aye?"

"This far south? Someone's got to speak it."

"French, then."

Further conversation was cut off as one of the men of the camp was close enough to be heard calling, "Hey! Hello!"

"BONJOUR!" the brothers shouted back, laughing as the man with the poofy hair cringed.

He was hurrying up to meet them at that point, one hand out making a lowering motion, "Not so loud! Keep it quiet. We don't know if there are any walkers out here."

The twins shared a look. Murphy spoke first, "Marcheurs? Pensez-vous qu'ils signifient la morte?"

"Oui. Ils doivent. Quel autre pourrait-il être?" Connor shot back, smile widening as he saw the man slowly realize they weren't speaking English. As if the jovial 'bonjour' hadn't given it away.

"Uh... do either of you speak English?" The man asked.

"Oh! Oui oui! Anglais," Murphy nodded enthusiastically, then leaned forward expectantly. "Pensez-vous que se cheveux est naturellement que les grandes? Ou veut-il taquiner?"

Connor put his arm around his brother like Murphy had asked something as obvious as 'Can we join your camp?' or 'Do you have any food to spare?' and not 'Do you think his hair is naturally that big? Or does he tease it?'. He answered while staring at the man, "Si il taquine, je vais manger ma chaussure."

The man cringed and was obvious about trying to hide it as he nodded slowly, then switched to shaking his head, "Yeah... no. I have no idea what you just said. Uh... Let's try something uh... Shit." He dropped his hands to his hips, pressed his lips together, shook his head again, then turned around and waved them to follow him up.

"Merci!" the twins yelled, laughing at the way he tried to shush them again. They did quiet down, but their conversation didn't cease. Commentary on the old man on the roof, the mousy woman at the fire, the skinny one with the boy attached to her hip, the big one leaning over a motorcycle, and the various sundry inhabitants spilled out as easily as water.

The man leading them in gave a sharp whistle, which cut their words short and had the rest of the camp stopping to look at him. He waved to everyone, smiling, "Sorry to interrupt, but these two, they don't speak English. I think it's uh... French?" He turned to look at them, "Uh... speak Francais?"

"Oui!" they answered, laughing. Connor elbowed Murphy, "Pas muet comme il regarde."

The man nodded and turned his attention back to the group, "Anyone here speak it?" When there was no answer, he called out, "Morales? You think you might be able to cobble something?"

"Why would I be able to?" The man in question asked like the other man was nuts.

The leader shrugged, "I don't know. I was told French and Spanish were similar."

"Not that similar!"

"Ha! Quelqu'un ne parle espagnol!" Connor slapped Murphy in the chest with the back of his hand.

He got a look, but barely had time to start his reply before Morales called out, hopeful, "Sí. Español. ¿Me entiendes?"

The brothers looked to each other and had a short, quiet conversation that ended with them looking back and nodding. They jogged across the space and Connor held his hand out, "[Sure can. Can understand hair boy over there, too. Even told him so.]"

"[Of course, we told him that in French]," Murphy finished while Morales stared at them. After a second of silence, Murphy clapped a hand on Morales' back, "[Wanna help us fuck with him?]"

"What are they saying?" The man called out.

Morales held a finger up, silently asking him to wait while he returned his attention back to the two men, considering it, "[Define fuck with him.]"

"[Nothing bad. Just something stupid.]" "[Oh! You could tell him we're escaped convicts!]" "[That would be stupid! We don't need him thinking that.]" "[But it'd be funny.]"

"[He's a cop. He has a gun]," Morales cut in.

The two looked at him, at each other, then shrugged and pushed their coats back to pull their twin barrettas out, answering in unison, "[So do we.]"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" the man yelled, his own gun up and out at what looked like the two man threatening Morales.

It got worse when Murphy put an arm around the man's neck and pressed a barrel to his forehead, "[Just play along. We aren't going to hurt you.]"

"[It sure feels like you are.]"

"[It's all in good fun]," Connor laughed and put his guns away. He reached over and slapped Murphy on the chest. "[Come on. He's not gonna play. Let him go.]"

Murphy rolled his eyes, but let go of Morales and put his guns away. He glanced over at the leader, "[Tell him to put his down.]"

Morales looked between them before meeting the man's eyes, "It's okay, Shane. They were just joking around."

"Joking around?" Shane asked incredulously, not ready to drop his gun.

"[Tell him we haven't seen anyone living in weeks.]""[Yeah. We're excitable. Oh! Tell him we're government agents!]""[FBI! We knew a couple of great people from there. We could fake it.]"

"They haven't seen alive in while," Morales answered before giving them a glare and walking away. "And they speak English just fine. They're just messing with you."

"[Oh come on!]" Murphy whined, hands out to his side.

"[You fuckers held a gun to my head!]" Morales shot back and from behind him a woman's voice called, "[What did you just say?]"

Murphy put his hands to his mouth and Connor sucked in a fake gasp as he waggled his finger, "Language, Morales. Language."

Morales flipped them off, making sure to hide the action from the kids that had just appeared in the small tent forest. Once he turned around, he didn't look back and the twins were stuck with a glaring Shane and the glares of many others still watching. The guy at the bike was smirking, though.

"So you can speak English," Shane bit out, gun down, but at the ready. "You think this is a time for joking around?"

They shrugged, "If it's not, it'll never be." "Ye have to have fun when you can." "Specially in times like these."

Shane wasn't buying what they were selling, "You got names?"

"Murphy."

"Connor."

"Well... Murphy. Connor," he pointed to the road they'd come up. "You two can go."

"Shane!" the old man admonished as he headed toward them from the RV. "You can't make them leave. It's dangerous out there."

"They have guns. Which they just put to Morales' head. As a joke. They can't stay."

"It weren't loaded," Murphy offered, pulling the gun in question out and pulling out the empty clip. "Ran out two days ago. Me brother's only got, what? Five bullets left?"

"Four."

The old man made a face, "See? They weren't putting him in real danger. And they can't take care of themselves alone. They need a camp. I'm not saying I like what they just did, but we can't just... toss them to the wolves. It's inhumane."

"Yeah, Shane," Connor tossed a hand out. "Let bygones be bygones. We'll be good."

Shane was quiet for a time, then shook his head, "No. No. I don't trust them. Sorry, Dale, but no."

"You don't trust the Dixons, but you let them in," the old man, Dale, hissed softy waved toward the man at the motorcycle – who was still watching.

"Daryl brings in food," Shane answered quickly. "I don't like them, but they pull their weight."

"We'll pull our weight, too," Connor piped up, putting an arm around Murphy's shoulder. "We used ta do all kinds of hard labor back before. Meat packing plant. Warehouse."

"We were shepherds for a while, too," Murphy joined in. "Before coming over the second time. Back in Ireland."

Dale's eyebrows rose, "You're from Ireland?"

"Aye. Was. Few years back," Connor nodded. "The second time. We were meaning to go back, but we hadn't the funds for it before all this went on."

"Family's all gone," Murphy continued. "It's just me and Connor, now. We got no where else ta be."

"We was just messing with you. We're sorry for the trouble. We jus'hain't seen anyone for a while. 'Cept each other."

"An' living with him day in day out, it's enough ta drive a man crazy." Murphy got a cuff to the back of his head for that one, but he just laughed. It was an old joke and even if he wanted to push his brother into a fight, they really needed Shane to believe they were safe to keep around. He could start in on his brother once they'd been approved.

Shane shut his eyes and sighed, putting his gun up before running his hands through his hair and over his head. Then he nodded, "Fine. They can stay."


AN: French Conversation isn't anything important, but it's basically: "Walkers? Is that what they're calling the dead?" "Yeah. Has to. What else could it be?"/

"Think his hair is like that naturally? Or does he tease it?" "If he teases it, I'll eat my shoe."/

"Not as dumb as he looks."/