Merle woke up to a hard slap to the head. He slowly came to, still groggy and cranky. "Get the fuck out, nobody's home." He mumbled, rolling over.

Daryl looked at his brother in annoyance and sighed, turning away from him. "Ain't that the truth." He muttered under his breath. The last vision that he wanted to see was his older brother naked and spread eagle on the bed. He wasn't a fan of seeing his ass cheeks either. Jesus, life could be cruel sometimes. He figured that Dawn had stopped by. She was pretty much Merle's go-to girl when he was lonely or just wanted some.

Merle stirred a bit, finally giving a delayed response. "Daryl," He mumbled softly. "That you?"

"Yeah, dumbass," He retorted. "Thanks for leavin' me to do all the work at the shop!" He hated being left to do most of the work while Merle went out raising hell and getting fucked.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was still disoriented, but quickly caught on to the situation. Daryl was home. Daryl was upset. That's the basics that he gathered. But hell, when wasn't Daryl raising a fuss about something? Maybe Merle would pass Dawn his way for the sake of him shutting the fuck up.

"Put some damn clothes on!" Daryl barked impatiently.

Merle grumbled, rubbing his eyes and placing a sheet over his lower body. "That better for ya, Princess?" He asked with a smirk plastered on his face.

Daryl was steaming mad. "Fuck you, Merle!"

He sighed. "Damn it, Daryl! I was joking!," He yelled, standing up and putting on his lime-colored boxers. Daryl scoffed. "You're so goddamn sensitive!," He looked at his perturbed younger brother. "But I thought you liked working the shop." He murmured, taken aback by Daryl's frustration.

"I do!," He replied angrily. "I just ain't no fan of bein' abandoned at our fuckin' post though!," He complained. "We opened this shop together!" Daryl was passionate about his reckless brother, but he was just as passionate about the shop too. He wanted it to work out, to have a stable business relationship with Merle.

Hearing Daryl bitch to him was like nails on a chalk board. His fervent younger brother meant well, but shit he was annoying at times."Yeah, yeah...," Merle grunted. "Sorry," He ran his hand down his face. "I'll work tomorrow and Saturday."

Daryl nearly fell out. Merle actually listened to his advice? Well damn. It was a happy day in the Dixon household. He smiled. "Really now?," He muttered. "You takin' my advice?"

Merle grunted, shrugging his shoulders. "Somethin' like that."

Daryl flashed his cheeky smile. "It's Michonne, aint it?" It had to be. Interaction with a woman that wasn't a skank would be good for ol' Merle; it'd show him that women weren't just a rack or ass. The lady had wits about her and commanded respect when she walked in a room; not in a bitchy way, but with her warmth and charisma. Running the shop and dealing with his fair share of people made him receptive to such traits.

"I did see her at the supermarket when I picked up some spices and extra toliet paper." He mentioned.

Daryl laughed. "Go figure, it's a small world, huh?"

"Guess it is." He said, walking past him. He was more surprised than Daryl, what were the chances that he'd meet her again at their local grocery store?

"Where you goin'?" Daryl asked.

"To cook this fish before it spoils." Merle answered. Fucking did stimulate an appetite. His stomach growled loud, the painful pangs speeding up the urgency in his slack movements. He walked into the small, condensed kitchen and reached into the primitive white refrigerator. Their bachelor pad was fucked beyond recognition; Merle wanted to tear up the floorboards and put in new ones, but he was busy these days. The whole place was a work-in-progress and gave him constant reminders of what needed to be done.

Daryl followed him, leaning in the doorway. "Toss me a beer, man," He said, holding up his hand. Merle responded with a grunt and tossed him a bottle of Bud Lite. He then helped himself to a bottle. Daryl opened his bottle, the faint fizzing sound of the bottle being music to his ears. Passing a beer and drinking was one of the few times him and Merle weren't at each other's throats; besides the shop. Both men were relaxed and content with a cheap beer and freshly caught fish for dinner. "You gonna try and put the moves on Michonne anyway?" He pressed through deep gulps of the stout beer.

"No, dumbass," He said, turning to look at him for a brief moment. "She has an old man. I don't have no chance," Though he'd love to entertain it... But admiring her from afar was okay too. He had no desire to be a home-wrecker. Being friends would be okay, hell maybe she could tell him what women liked. He took out the fish, laying it on the counter. "Give me your huntin' knife." He demanded, looking up at Daryl and reaching out his hand.

Daryl scoffed, then reaching into the back pocket of his loosely fit black jeans. He handed over the knife. He knew Merle was trying to change the subject. He wasn't pushing a Love Connection between the two of them, but a blossoming friendship with a woman might soften Merle up a bit. Maybe complete the change that the shop had made within him. "You know I'm pretty friendly with her." He mentioned.

Merle raised his brow. "Yeah? And?," He said in annoyance, turning on the stove and reaching for a clean pan in the cluttered dish rack. He placed it on the front right burner and sprayed a bit of olive oil on the pan. "Whatchu tryin' to say?"

He shrugged. "Hell if I know," He said, taking another gulp of his beer. "I'm just sayin' that a healthy friendship with a female could do you some good." Not to mention it'd get him away from Dawn's crazy ass. After dinner the Dixon brothers retired to their rooms on the opposite sides of the house. Merle seemed content; he was fucked, had eaten dinner and was drifting off to sleep once again. He did think about Daryl's advice. Being friends with a woman couldn't be that difficult.

The next day Daryl woke up to a bright beam of sunlight hitting his face. The sunlight radiated between the ruffled blinds of his spacious window. He slowly sat up and attempted to brush down his wild bed hair with his fingers. He sat there for a moment in his black sleep pants, rubbing his still tired eyes. He dreaded his morning routine, which consisted of getting Merle up...among other things. He was so bull-headed and lacked initiative until he was good and ready to move. He needed the firm push of his beloved baby brother. He stood up, promptly stretching and making his way to the other side of the house.

Daryl looked in amazement, noticing the pretentious Merle wasn't in his bed. He didn't hear any stirring around the house either. He went back to his room and checked his outdated flip phone for a message. Sure enough, a text. It read: "Went to open the shop. See you later". He smiled to himself. It had to be because of Michonne. Usually he didn't work on Fridays or Saturdays...and he certainly didn't ever wake up in a timely fashion, unless it benefited him. Which his earliness did in this instance. "That frisky son-um-bitch." Daryl said with a laugh, plopping back onto his bed. Suited him just fine, that meant he didn't have to have the usual knock-down drag out fight with Merle this morning. It also meant that he could enjoy the fleeting luxury of strolling into shop late.

It was about 20 or so minutes after opening and Merle saw Michonne walk in. She wore a form-fitting white, silk sun dress which complimented her lightly-colored head scarf. It wasn't uncommon for a lot of women to be wearing silk those days. It was the coolest thing...aside from nothing. But damned if she didn't wear it well. He admired her form like the red-blooded males before him. They were friends now and she was attached; but that didn't mean that he couldn't discreetly look. Merle Dixon sure did love to look. "Whatchu lookin' for today, gal?" He asked, leaning against the counter with a crooked smile on his face.

She sloppily leaned against the counter and looked back at him. "Nothing really." She responded with a playful smile.

"So why are you here then?" He asked with a chuckle.

"The truth is that I like this shop a lot," She said, the smile not leaving her face. "Andre's duck toy is the only thing that I've gotten from here," She went on. "I just like Daryl's spirit, he's so gentle, you know?"

Merle smiled. "That's my sweet baby brother." Daryl was sweet alright, as sweet as a batch of Georgia peaches. He was so sweet that it made Merle's stomach ache; in the brotherly way of course.

"And now that I've met you, you don't seem bad either." She went on in a matter of fact way. Merle was very interesting and very foreign to her fast-paced, city interactions. He was carefree and a bit aloof to responsibility, aside from looking out for Daryl and the shop. He seemed to be a redneck, country man through and through.

He paused, lowering his head and figeting with a lone piece of shattered wood sticking up on the counter. He didn't need to hear that. He didn't care to know how good he was. "How's your boy?" He inquired, looking back up at her.

"He's doing great," She said happily. "He still loves that duck toy to death."

That bought another smile to his face. He was a sweet kid, usually kids were nightmares at that stage. But little Andre was easygoing and happy.

"Do you want to hang out later?" She blurted out.

His eyes widened. "What?" He asked, laughter escaping him. "Hang out? Are we in grade school?" He teased.

She rolled her eyes. This man. "As a thanks for the toy, smartass," She said, putting her hands on her hips. Not as a date. Heavens no, Mike would never go for that. "And before you cut me off, I was going to say that I'm making a dish with that curry."

He shook his head. "Your old man won't like that." He replied. The last thing he wanted was to be entangled in a domestic dispute becuase he decided to have a friendly dinner with her. He supposed that on the surface it would look kind of shady. He wasn't even sure if men and women could be strictly friends...but regardless, Michonne seemed very prim and controlled. If he tries to make a move he'll probably get a slap to the face, which would be good. That meant he wouldn't be at risk of trying anything on another man's woman.

"He's out of town," She replied. "It won't be anything-"

He huffed, then looking up at her with a smile. Well shit, if he had to dodge some bullets for sharing dinner with Michonne it might be worth it. "Alright."

"I've told him about you when we talked," She assured. What the fuck? She told him and he's okay with that?! That's too good to be true. Trusting Merle to not try to seduce a woman is like putting a fox in a hen house and expecting no hens to be eaten! "You're not a secret friend." She said candidly.

He hadn't been friends with a woman before, but maybe it was a good time to start. Michonne was very sweet and nice; not like the women he was used to. She had standards...morals even. He could learn something from her. "Where do you want to meet?"

"I can meet you when you close shop." She offered.

He rubbed his chin. "I close at 7:00, that alright?" The shop was on the edge of the woods and brush, dead in the country. The mornings and afternoons were their busiest hours. No point in staying open longer than they needed to be.

She nodded. "Mind if I hang around?"

He smiled. "You want to stay here and see a bunch of sweaty rednecks?"

"I think you and Daryl need some company besides each other." She joked. That was an absolute truth. Merle did tire of the endless quantities of testosterone walking in and out of his shop constantly. Michonne being in the shop was like a breath of fresh air to him.

"You have a point." He pondered what her role in the shop could be. He eyed her curiously.

She laughed. "What?"

Then it came to him. "You know how to manage store books?" He asked abruptly.

"Well I suppose that I could pick it up really fast," She replied. "I'm a former-lawyer so besides being in the medical field, nothing is as complicated and daunting as law."

Huh, the woman had brains too. He never saw that in this town. "Are you from here?" He asked, his curiosity getting away from him. Surely she wasn't. As exotic and smart as she was she'd have to be from the city or something; or at least a few towns over.

"I'm from the city," She answered. He figured as much. "About 20 or 30 minutes from here."

He rubbed his chin, looking at her in intrigue. "Oh, a city girl." He teased. He hadn't met a city girl before.

She rolled her gleaming brown eyes and smiled. "You country folk always give city people such a hassle."

He snorted, taking in her fervent reactions to him. Her eye roll and smile were pretty irresistible. "Y'all like everything fast," He said with playful distain. "That's why." He didn't understand city people one bit, but she seemed sharp and straightforward which was rare for the women around his neck of the woods.

She looked back at him as she began walking around the store. "Not everything." She replied coyly. He chuckled as watched her every move, he was fascinated by her. He seemed to crave to know more about his new, exotic friend.

"Alright, bookkeeper," He dubbed her, motioning her back towards the counter. She looked on attentively as he lifted a large tan book from behind the counter. He opened up the crudely constructed book. "Hope you learn on your own," He joked. "Cause' Daryl and I have yet to start anything from the 2 and a half months we've been open." He said regrettably.

She sighed and shook her head. "Are you always this irresponsible?" She asked, rubbing at her temples.

"I suppose on occasion I am," He replied with a slight smile. Managing 2 and a half month old books with hundreds of transactions was certainly going to be a task. Merle figured as much. He quickly pondered a way to make amends for her having to clean up his mess. "But...instead of you takin' me out; how bout' I take you out?" That was way better than her taking him out anyway, he wasn't the type of man that was satisfied with a meal paid for him by a woman...or anyone for that matter. He also was still weary of going to her house for dinner.

"Oh really? Where?," She asked, raising her brow. "It better not be McDonalds," She joked. "I don't work for cheap."

He bit his lower lip in an attempt to stifle his smile. "You're somethin' else."

She eyed the large book, then eyed him once more. Managing the book would be a doozy. Merle Dixon would definitely have to compensate her. She figured she'd hold off on cooking her pot roast and mashed potatoes for tonight. "So where are you taking me for dinner tonight, Merle?" She inquired sweetly, batting her eyes playfully at him.

Daryl just had to walk in on that line. Shit. Merle wanted to wipe that idiotic smirk off of his younger brother's face. Merle's once snarky and stoic face turned into a deep shade of pink. The poor bastard was embarrassed; and as the younger brother Daryl was enjoying every moment of seeing his rough and tumble brother being frazzled by a woman.

He scratched his beard, then inhaling deeply. "You like steak?"