The prison starts to become more home-y with the successful runs. One Dixon had been bringing in food, neccessities, but two of them? Merle knew the right places to hit up from his days as the Governor's right-hand-man. Despite all of the items floating around the jail cells though, Milton doesn't quite understand why his seems to fill up on its own without him grabbing any of the Twizzlers or cans of Mr. Pibb for himself. At first he thinks that it's Andrea supplying him with the pencils to write his research with (an item that nobody thinks to stock up on for the apocalypse), but when he finds a note attached to a handgun on his desk, he knows otherwise.

For when you finally man up and step outside.

Part of him had hoped when he saw the weapon that Rick had left it. The idea of him leaving the prison terrified him, but it was worth thinking for a mere ten seconds that his new leader could value him as something more than a gardener. Merle, though? He didn't know what to think. This was more than a jest. This was something significant.

Part of him hopes that Rick instructed him to leave it in his cell, but Milton is oddly doubtful.

He chews on the red candy while he scribbles in his pad, hours dwindling away without his notice.

Milton is sitting at a table by himself, pretending to read a book while he listens to Bob flirt with Sasha. It makes him feel lonely in a way that he feels he should be accustomed to by now. He likes their banter though. He has to hide a smile behind his novel, something else he found on his bed, so the almost-couple doesn't notice; he's studied Sasha enough to know that she would box herself off if she knew that anyone else other than Bob was paying attention to what they were talking about. (The book also hides his blush.)

Sasha isn't the only person that he's studied. When he realizes that Merle is coming towards him, he can tell by the expression on his face that he probably isn't going to like whatever it is he's about to be told. Of course, that sums up how he feels about ninety-seven percent of what Merle says.

"Get dressed." No pleasantries; such familiarity that Milton doesn't think that Merle deserves. Or do the gifts grant him that? He isn't sure. "Grab your piece and meet me in the guard tower. The empty one."

Of course, it takes Milton a while to figure out which one is exactly empty. He walks in on Glenn and Maggie doing something he'll probably never be able to get out of his head. He should have just asked someone before trying to figure it out for himself, but he didn't like the idea of having to explain why when he didn't know the reason himself. 'Merle is being suspicious' didn't exactly sound like it would go over well.

When he makes his way up the tower, Merle is already there; he doesn't want to know how long he's been waiting on him. He's expecting irritation but instead he finds laughter-apparently he's the only one who didn't realize what the group's resident power couple was getting up to.

"Need a system. We used ta stick a hat on the door handle if-"

Milton clears his throat, not exactly wanting to hear the end to what he's sure is a very perverse sentence.

"What did you want?"

If Merle minds his abruptness, he doesn't show it. The humor is still etched on his face.

"Officer Rick personally asked me to teach you how ta shoot."

At least one of them is laughing, he thinks.

They practice for what feels like two hours but in reality is only half that. Merle is more patient with him than Milton had suspected he would be but not by much. He isn't exactly an expert shooter by the time they take a short break for a snack. They stay in the tower, sitting across from each other on the floor while they eat; Merle had been the one to bring food, Milton not thinking to. Merle has a knee up, his arm resting on it while he eats from a can of peaches; Milton has both of his legs out in front of him while he slowly eats slices of pineapple from a can. He's in no hurry to take back up target practice, partly, to his surprise, because the air between them is actually almost tolerable for once. Merle had even let him pick which kind of fruit he wanted to eat. (He was more thankful for this than he let on because it's been a while since he's had pineapple. He can recall once saying in front of the other man that it's one of his favorite fruits, but he's sure it's just a coincidence.)

"So, have you always been a gun for hire?"

It's the politest way of putting what he considers Merle's work. The other's laugh strikes him as odd; he's in a much too good mood, and Milton is sure it's going to blow up in his face sooner than later.

"Been a lot of things. Don't feel much like talkin' about it though."

Merle is usually one to answer anything thrown at him, not that Milton gets to actually ask him anything-it doesn't even occur to him to ask anymore with the man's noted dislike of him. With Merle being in such a good mood though, he decides to take advantage of it, craving to know of another human's experience. Still, he lets this particular question go knowing not to push his luck with it.

"It must be nice having your brother here, someone to always be able to talk to. I'm almost jealous."

It's a question without a question. He's hoping Merle will take the bait because he's suddenly extremely curious about who the man goes to when he wants company. He's seen him talking to just about everybody at least a couple of times, but no one other than the other Dixon stands out in his mind and he wonders if Merle gets lonely. If he ever has a certain type of company. Andrea, maybe? He can imagine the response he would get if he just came out and asked: 'What, Miltina? You think I wanted to make this our tower?' No, that would be another question he would let go. Still, if Merle would answer it without it really even being asked. . .

Merle seems to consider his statement for a moment before saying anything.

"When he's not up someone else's ass. I think he's screwin' around with that little blonde girl."

Milton thinks that he meant Andrea for a moment before it clicks in his head that Merle would have addressed her by her actual name. After that, it only takes him a few seconds for him to realize that he meant Beth.

"I don't think so." He expects Merle to argue with his disagreement but when it doesn't happen he continues. "Him and Carol seem close."

Merle nods. "I've considered that 'ne as well. Mmhm." Another nod. "The way he acts though, you'd think he has a thing for Rick."

Milton's first thought is to dispute it. They seem like nothing other than friends in his opinion, and he's sure neither would appreciate the accusation. He doesn't though. He stops to think that maybe Merle is saying it out of jealousy, or maybe there's a side to Daryl he doesn't know about. Putting it off as probably the first option, Merle just being a jackass, he dismisses it as a question for later, instead choosing a different route with their gossip.

"I think that Rick and Michonne will get together. Or maybe Rick and Andrea."

Merle drinks the juice from his can and then tosses it out of the tower. Milton briefly wonders who will have to pick it up later; he hopes that it isn't Herhsel. He'll probably pick it up himself now that the thought has occured to him.

"Nah, it won't be blondie. They both feel too strongly about things, you know what I mean? She'd try to wear the pants." He shakes his head. "They'd have damn good sex though."

Milton tries to quickly move the conversation away from what the potiential couple would be like in the sheets. His face is reddening, but it's more from the thought that Merle could be discussing the same topic with someone else but in regards of him. He hates being the center of gossip-another reason for him to be called a hypocrite. Andrea would be so disgusted, he's sure, if she didn't shoot him first for the conversation at hand.

"I think Carl likes Beth."

Merle nods his head once. "Kid's at the age that he notices anything with a chest." Milton waits for the snide joke saying that that includes him, sure that Merle thinks of him as pudgy, but the comment doesn't come. "He'd work well with Michonne if he wasn't such a squirt. And if he lost the hat."

It's then that Milton realizes how ridiclous his day has turned out. Still, it's better than what he had planned.