June 21, 1925

Zora's head was pounding, and she groaned as she opened her eyes to the harsh sunlight of morning spilling into the room. Her mouth felt like sandpaper and she had an ache in her neck from the way she had slept laying on her back with her head twisted to the side. She vaguely remembered stumbling into the room and passing out as soon she hit the bed, and she gave another groan realizing that she had probably made a fool out of herself in front of Daryl. She should have been trying to gain his respect, not lose it like she had probably done. With a heavy sigh, she heaved herself off the bed and went to stand in front of the dusty old mirror in the corner of the room. Her makeup was smeared around her eyes and she looked about as awful as she felt.

Zora tried her best to smooth down her hair and to wipe the smudges of makeup from around her eyes before resigning herself to her dreadful appearance and making her way down the stairs. Daryl was in the kitchen frying something on the stove, and the smell of it made her stomach rumble. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps and offered her a warm smile. He had bags under his eyes and looked exhausted, but he still looked better than Zora.

"There's coffee," he said, nodding toward a steaming cup on the kitchen table.

"Why are you so good to me?" Zora croaked, her voice scratchy from sleep as she grabbed the coffee.

Daryl shrugged, a smile still playing on his lips. He grabbed two plates and scooped the fried eggs and bacon he had been cooking onto them before setting one down in front of Zora. She sat down heavily in the chair.

"Thank you," she said earnestly.

"Ain't a big deal," Daryl shrugged as he sat down across from her. "I make breakfast most mornings, it's not like it's a trouble to make a little more."

Zora flashed him an appreciative smile before digging in. Bits and pieces of the previous night began to come back to her as they ate in comfortable silence. She remembered playing poker and losing miserably. Daryl was a much better poker player than he'd let on, but she had been the one to challenge him, so perhaps she'd walked into that one. As she finished her breakfast, she suddenly also remembered a moment when she had come so close to kissing him. She remembered how close his lips had been to hers, how easy it would have been to close the distance between them. She sighed, mentally scolding herself for being so stupid.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, noticing her sigh. He finished the food on his plate and turned his attention to her.

"Fine," she said. "I just wanted to apologize if I, uh . . . got out of hand last night."

"Don't know what you mean," Daryl shrugged, but from his suddenly uncomfortable posture, she could tell he did.

"Moonshine makes me do silly things sometimes," she explained.

Daryl nodded curtly, feeling awkward. Of course she had only behaved the way she had because of the moonshine. No woman in their right sober mind would be interested in a man like him. He inexplicably felt a little disappointed by her words, but above all, he was relieved. He may not have been able to deny his attraction to Zora, but he was entirely uncomfortable with the idea of their relationship pushing its current boundaries. Daryl wasn't looking for that kind of interaction with anyone, let alone a wild woman like Zora. He stood abruptly from the table and cleared away the empty plates.

"I had a lot of fun last night though," Zora ventured. "I'm really looking forward to you coming into Atlanta next week."

Daryl cleared his throat. "Yeah. Me too," he said gruffly, wishing he had sounded more sincere. He already felt anxious about their next meeting.

Zora stood from the table and finished the rest of her coffee. "I should get going," she said. "Thank you for such a great time, and for breakfast."

Daryl nodded again. "Yeah. See you next week."

Zora flashed him a smile before gathering her purse and walking out the front door. He watched her through the window as she climbed into her car and drove away, wishing he she didn't make him feel so confused. She was something else.

Zora was utterly exhausted, but she knew she had a delivery to make to the Peachtree Tavern. James would be waiting for his order already, as she hadn't given him a set time that she would be delivering it that day. She had taken a quick moment back at her apartment to tidy herself up, deciding that a bath and a long nap were in order for later in the day, but now she was back in her car and pulling up behind the Peachtree to deliver Daryl's moonshine as promised.

She knocked thrice on the backdoor of the joint and the door swung open to reveal James. He was in his late thirties and of Irish descent, and he had been the second speakeasy Zora had started delivering to when she decided to expand her business. James was a bit of a hot head when he was angry, but overall he was an all right fellow. He was the first person to take a chance on Zora outside of George, and she would be forever grateful to him for allowing her to expand her business.

"Hey there, James," Zora greeted with a smile, which he returned graciously. "I've got your order for you. The good stuff."

"Well that's just swell, c'mon in and I'll get Joey to unload it," James invited, opening the door wide for her. Zora stepped inside and took a seat on one of the bar stools while Joey, a young fellow who worked for James, went outside to begin unloading the crates.

"You look tired," James observed. "Long night?"

"You could say that," Zora replied. James nodded and went behind the bar to retrieve the payment for the order. He counted it out in front her so that she could witness that he was indeed paying the increased cost for the better quality shine. She accepted the money graciously and stashed it away in her purse. As Joey finished unloading the last crate, she stood and made her way back toward the door.

"Thanks, James. Let me know when you need more."

"One question, sweetheart," James called from behind the bar. Zora arched her eyebrows in response. "What's this stuff called?"

Zora cocked her head to the side, unsure what to say. James had a point. If she and Daryl were going to sell his shine, especially for an increased price, it should have a name.

"Let me get back to you on that," Zora said with a smile. She would have to talk to Daryl about deciding on a name for their product.

June 23, 1925

Zora was annoyed. No, she was angry. She was supposed to drive out to pick up an order from Louis that day, and Frankie was nowhere to be found. She had called multiple times and driven to his apartment and pounded on the door, but still there was no sign of him. He had known about this pick up days in advance, so there was no excuse for his sudden disappearance. And now that maintaining a good relationship with Louis was critical in the light of her new partnership with Daryl, Zora couldn't very well cancel her pick up with him.

With an angry huff, she stormed off Frankie's porch and back to her car, slamming the door shut behind her. Where was he? She had talked to him a few days prior and he had been ready and willing to accompany her on this trip to Louis's still. But now he was missing, and Zora was losing patience. She wasn't comfortable going alone after what had happened last time, but she couldn't very well wait around all day for the kid.

Suddenly, an idea struck her. Maybe Daryl would be home, and maybe he could accompany her to Louis's still. He and Louis were at least somewhat familiar with each other due to Louis's friendship with Merle, so maybe that would work in her favor. Besides, she needed to talk to Daryl about coming up with a name for his moonshine. Set on this plan, she started the engine and began the drive out into the country. Daryl's house was on the way to Louis's, and Zora didn't trust her resolve to drive by without stopping by to say hello anyway.

As she drove, she tried to come up with possible names for Daryl's moonshine, but they all seemed inadequate. She wanted to know his thoughts on the matter. After all, it was his family recipe and his hard work that brought the shine into existence, so he should be able to name the fruits of his labor.

Before long, Zora pulled into Daryl's driveway. His truck was parked in front of the shed as usual. She exited the car and started heading for the house, but a sound behind her made her stop and turn. Daryl had appeared in the doorway of the shed, looking not that surprised to see her standing there.

"Sorry to barge in like this," Zora began, but then laughed at herself. "But then again, when have I not barged in?"

Daryl smirked at her in amusement. "Somethin' I can do for you?"

"Actually, yes. I'm on my way to pick up an order from Louis, and Frankie, the guy who usually comes with me as protection, is nowhere to be found. Would you mind coming with me? Just in case?"

Daryl frowned. He didn't particularly like Louis, but he didn't know the man all that well. He only knew him in association with Merle. But despite his own misgivings about the man, he certainly wasn't about to let Zora go there alone after what had happened the last time she had gone there by herself. He nodded.

"Sure. Let's go."

He followed Zora to her car without another word and climbed in the passenger seat next to her.

"Thanks for coming along," Zora said, sounding relieved.

"After what happened last time, you think I'd say no and let you go alone?"

Zora flashed him a sheepish smile. "Still, I appreciate it."

They drove in silence the rest of the way, and Daryl felt himself tensing as they pulled into Louis's barn. He had been here a few times before with Merle, but he wasn't sure if Louis would remember him. Two men pulled the barn doors closed behind the car, and Zora climbed out. He realized this was very routine for her, and he followed her lead. Louis came over and stopped when his eyes landed on Daryl.

"Daryl Dixon? That you?" he asked. Daryl grunted and nodded once in reply. "Haven't seen you since Merle got thrown in the big house. How's he been?"

Daryl shrugged. "Don't visit much."

"Ah," Louis said, eying Daryl warily. "Well, give him my best next time you do."

Zora cleared her throat and Louis turned his attention to her. His men were loading crates of moonshine into her backseat and she handed him a stack of cash.

"Once again, darlin', I'm so sorry 'bout what happened last time. You have my word that it'll never happen again. The situation was . . . dealt with."

Zora nodded, not reciprocating his friendliness beyond basic professionalism. "Water under the bridge. But I'll hold you to your word that it won't happen again."

"Ab-so-lute-ly," Louis said with a vigorous nod. "Besides, no one in their right mind would try anything with a Dixon ridin' in your car."

Louis was grinning at Daryl, but he didn't return the gesture. As soon as the crates of shine were loaded up, he climbed back inside the car without a word.

"Thanks, Louis," Zora said somewhat stiffly, climbing in next to Daryl. The barn doors were pulled open and Zora backed out and turned around to head back down the dirt road toward Daryl's house. She and Daryl were silent for a few miles, but something Daryl had said nagged at her.

"You don't visit your brother in prison?" she asked. Daryl shrugged.

"I used to a lot when he first got locked up, but I ain't been to see him in a few months."

Zora nodded, sensing that Daryl was a little uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. Merle wasn't happy about being locked up, and he seemed to take out his bitterness and resentment on Daryl whenever he visited. For a while, he felt it was his duty as Merle's brother and only living family member to visit, but soon he grew tired of Merle's attitude. Merle would be locked away for the next fourteen years, so his brother's negative attitude didn't have to affect him if he chose not to go visit him.

Zora opted to change the conversation topic. She glanced over to Daryl. "We need a name for your moonshine," she said.

Daryl frowned. "Why?"

"Think of it like a brand name," Zora explained. "If people are asking for it specifically, and selling it for more kale, they wanna know what it's called. It makes it easier to refer to it, to order it, and to talk it up to their friends."

"Guess that makes sense."

"So, what do you want to call it?"

Daryl was silent for a few moments and shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. I ain't good at comin' up with stuff."

"Well, maybe your name should be attached to it since it's a family recipe and all."

Daryl's expression hardened, but Zora didn't notice with her eyes on the road.

"It's your business, though," Daryl countered, not wanting to bring his family into it. "All I do is make the stuff."

Zora scoffed. "That's the hard part. You do the hard work and I just market it."

"Then why don't we come up with a name that showcases both of us?" Daryl suggested.

Zora thought hard, racking her brain for any similarities between herself and Daryl. They were such different people that it was hard to come up with anything. He was rough, country, and liked getting his hands dirty. She was glamorous, wild, and thrived in a busy city environment. The two of them were about as different as people could be.

As she pulled into Daryl's driveway, she was struck with sudden inspiration. She put the Model T in park and turned to face him. He eyed her expectantly.

"Dixon's Vixen," she stated matter-of-factly. He raised his eyebrows and hummed in consideration. "It's got your name to credit you for the shine, and it alludes to the doll who sells it for you." She winked as she playfully referenced herself.

Daryl mulled it over in his head. Dixon's Vixen Moonshine. It had a nice ring to it, and it certainly sounded like a brand name.

"I like it," he declared. "Dixon's Vixen it is."

Zora flashed him a devious grin, excited about their newly named product. Just like that, Dixon's Vixen was born.