"You gonna hit that?" The bar tender asked as he filled both he and Carol's glasses back up with ice.

"Cause she's fine."

"Shut up Abraham." The bar tender just laughed, watching as the man walked back to the table and the woman came out of the woman's bathroom.

_.+._

"When does your husband get out of jail?" He asked after several minutes silence.
He was like that, she could tell.

He seemed a pretty quiet guy, unless he had something he wanted to say.
She was surprised when he asked the question.

She shrugged.
"Don't know. Don't care." She said flippantly, blowing a loose, long, dark red hair from her face. "And he's my ex husband. I won't be going back to him."

"He sign the divorce papers?" he asked, brow furrowed.

"No. I only handed them to him today."

So she was still technically married.
He sighed into his glass.
God she was a stupid woman.
Then again, the braud probably didn't even realize the shit load of trouble she was in.

"What get charged with?" He asked sticking his finger into his empty beer bottle, as he put his glass back down. He pulled his thumb out with a pop, curling himself back into the corner of the booth.

He had a hole in his jeans... torn at the knee.
Ed would never have a hole in his clothes. He'd die before that happened.
Maybe she could use Daryl's knife as a threat against his jeans and make him die.
Would that count as murder? Surely, she couldn't go to jail for that.

He blinked, waiting patiently for her answer as he lit another cigarette.

"Assault and battery." Was her answer as she leaned back in the booth, her finger pulling lightly at the silver necklace around her throat.

They'd hold him for a night, he'd get bailed out or released and he'd come home looking to a) make her pay.
b) kill her or
c) he'd say he was sorry, make sweet love to her, buy her something nice and beat the shit out of her the next time she didn't breathe soft enough.

The 'making love' part of C made him the sickest, he thought.

"You drive here?" He asked after last call was shouted. There was still half a bottle of alcohol on their table.

"No. Took a taxi so I wouldn't be tempted to drive." he nodded, pleased with her answer

"You drive here?" She asked.

"Yeah. But I hadn't planned on having some lady get me drunk." She giggled at his comment.

"Isn't that why guys come to bars?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. I came for a beer and some quiet." he rubbed his forehead.

"What's so loud at home?" She asked, hoping he didn't mind.

"Merle." Was his answer, shuddering as he remembered opening the door to HIS apartment and finding Merle balls deep in some whore on the kitchen table.

"Walked in on him and some whore. In my damn apartment " he groaned, kneading his eyeballs. "Asshole threw a box of condoms and a hundred dollar bill at my head and told me to go get laid." He folded his arms over the table, laying his head on his arms.

"That wasn't nice of him." She stated, quite pleased that he hadn't done what his brother had told him to.
She wasn't sure why, but she didn't like the idea of him laying in some prostitutes arms.
(Besides, she'd smell better, she was sure)