Daryl tinkered around under the hood of Andrea's car for far longer than he'd expected, but he hoped that in the end it would be worth it. In the time that he spent tinkering, she divided her time between loading the back of his truck with her things and running back and forth to deliver tools and such that he needed. He tried to ignore the fact that she was growing more and more antsy about the hour. She had to work, and he knew that, but he couldn't imagine that being a few minutes late would be that dramatic. Carol had been late the first night, seemingly without any sort of consequences, so surely she could pick up the slack for Andrea for a half an hour.

When Daryl finally tested the old Pontiac he was pleasantly surprised when it roared to life. He looked at Andrea, who was hanging anxiously around the front fender, and she jumped a little, grinning at the sound of it running. He returned the smile and crawled out of the driver's seat, leaving the old car running. He circled around and closed the hood, gathering up the last of his tools.

"Good as new," he said. "Should hold ya for a while."

"Thank you!" Andrea said, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Easy now!" Daryl said. "Don't want Merle hearin' ya was grabbin' all over me an' gettin' jealous."

Andrea swatted him and he smiled again, moving to put his tools in the toolbox.

"Ya got all ya stuff yet?" He asked, opening the door on the Ford.

"Yeah," Andrea said. "It's all loaded in the back. There's really nothing left here that's mine at all."

Daryl looked into the back of the truck. There were two cardboard boxes and one suitcase that looked like it had certainly seen better days, but that was it. He'd assumed she was simply packing a few things to hide out at their apartment until Ed Peletier moved on with his life and forgot about Merle and realized that Andrea had nothing to do with neither Merle's attack nor Carol's decision to leave him, now, however, he was aware that this pitiful collection of stuff was simply the collection of all of Andrea's possessions.

Daryl shrugged to himself, realizing that the three of them together didn't own enough to fill the back of the old truck.

"Well, we best be headin' back then. Ya gotta change before work?" He asked. Andrea was wearing a low cut shirt, which was pretty standard for her, but her tight fitting jeans weren't as revealing as what she typically wore for a night at the Watering Hole.

"Yeah," she said. "I gotta pair a' shorts in the car. I can change in the bathroom at work."

"Fine," Daryl said. "I'll unload ya shit at the apartment. Tell Merle that I'll be down there afterwhile."

"You got it," Andrea said, crawling in the car and slamming the door shut. Daryl got into the truck and cranked it. He backed out of Andrea's driveway and backed down the road far enough that she could back out in front of him. He sat and waited on her, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror in case any other cars might approach, but none did. When Andrea was backed out of the driveway and put the car in drive to head toward town, Daryl followed behind her, keeping just a car length's distance between them in case she were to break down and need his assistance.

Daryl watched as Andrea pulled into the parking lot at the Watering Hole and then he drove on to their apartments, parking out front instead of around back where he normally parked. He moved the boxes and the suitcase upstairs, leaving them to the side in Merle's room. He wasn't sure how they were going to handle the space issue, neither of the rooms in the apartment being very large, but that wasn't his problem. He wasn't the one that had decided, whether it was being admitted or not, to shack up with Andrea. Daryl did, at least, have the foresight to make sure that her things were not in any direct path to the bed, knowing full well that a drunken Merle would very likely fall over them if they were and then he'd wake the whole building up cussing over what had happened to him through no fault but his own.

After everything was unloaded Daryl rummaged through the cabinets and found a jar of peanut butter. He made himself a sandwich and sat eating it at the card table in the kitchen. They weren't living off Ed's tab any longer down that the Water Ho and he wasn't going to eat there if it could be avoided. The money that Merle spent on booze there was enough, there was no need to suck up more of their income if it could be avoided.

Daryl finished off his sandwich and dusted the crumbs off the table onto the floor. Then he got up and went downstairs. He moved the truck around back so that it wouldn't bother anyone who didn't like the residents of the fine establishment parking on the street. Then he lit a cigarette and started off in the direction of the bar where he seemed to end most of his days.

When Daryl got there, he noticed the same old patrons in their same places. It seemed like each day that he stepped through the door he was stepping into a rerun of some terrible television show. In the corner sat Rick in his uniform. He was apparently there to keep an eye out for Carol, who was busy shuffling around mugs and shot glasses for the people there. Daryl thought that having an officer on duty inside the bar might upset clientele, but from the looks of it no one seemed to care. Daryl knew that some of the people there were likely to be driving, judging from the full parking spaces outside the joint. He could only reason that Sweet Junction wasn't a place that cracked down too hard on drinking and driving. He chuckled to himself as he walked to the bar, figuring that it was probably owing that you couldn't go too far in either direction before being outside of Sweet Junction, and therefore it was reasonable to assume that none of the drunks had very far to drive.

Daryl took his customary seat at the bar and waited patiently. Merle greeted him with a nod of his head, but didn't say anything.

"Got Andrea's car runnin'," Daryl said.

Merle grunted and nodded his head.

"Moved her shit in too," Daryl said.

Another grunt followed. Merle took a shot from the bottle he had in front of him.

"Ain't a whole lot," Daryl said. "She ain't got a pot ta piss in, looks like."

"Neither do we, lil' brothah," Merle said. Daryl nodded his head.

Carol stepped in front of Daryl and offered him a shot glass without speaking. She stood there a moment, rearranging bottles under the bar. Daryl glanced up at her. His eyes lingered a moment longer on her cleavage than he'd intended and he quickly pushed himself to look at her face. She was looking down, though, and hadn't noticed him momentarily fixated on the line between her breasts.

"Did'ja water ever get hot again?" He asked. He felt like he should make some sort of conversation, but that wasn't really what he'd intended to ask. He hadn't exactly prepared well. He felt his cheeks growing hot and suddenly wished he hadn't said anything. Carol looked at him, not responding for a second and then she smiled.

"It did," she said. "I guess it was just out of water."

"Good thing it weren't broke," Daryl said, "ya might not a' ever got 'em ta come fix it." He was floundering now and he could feel Merle glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

"That's probably true," Carol said. She stood there a moment like she was going to say something else. Finally she walked off. She made it to the end of the bar before she turned around and came back. "Listen, I can't accept rides from you anymore," she said.

Daryl was struck. He had been too busy kicking himself for asking such a stupid question and had forgotten almost entirely that he'd given her a ride. Now she was looking at him like she was worried about his reaction and telling him that she couldn't accept a ride from him again. He didn't have to ask himself why she couldn't accept one. It was pretty obvious. Sweet Junction was a small town and women like her didn't tangle with men like the Dixons. That had been the way things were his entire life, and he had no illusions that it would change just because the scenery had changed a little.

He felt a little sorry, though, and he didn't know why. For some reason he suddenly wished that he'd had the chance to get to know her a little better. He wished that Andrea hadn't been sitting between them in the cab of the truck for the few miles that she had been the kind of woman that would accept a ride from the likes of him.

She stood there, still looking at him, her blue eyes fixed on him, and he knew he had to respond in some way. He nodded his head, attempting not to look disappointed. He wasn't going to let some woman think she'd hurt his feelings. That wasn't how he operated.

"Fine," he said. "Sorry for buggin' ya."

Daryl realized his tone was harsh, but it was the only one that he could find at the moment. Carol looked a little struck and lowered her eyes, nodding her head in response. She didn't say anything else. She turned and went to work filling a pitcher with beer, presumably to carry around and refill the glasses of anyone that was beginning to see the bottom of theirs.

"Don't look so long in tha face," Merle said suddenly. "Ya can see that girl ain't your kinda gal. If ya got ya a hankerin', I can ask Andrea if she knows some sweet lil' number ta set ya up with. Someone that'll be more ya speed."

"Shut up, Merle, ya don't know nothin' 'bout nothin'," Daryl said. He didn't feel like getting ribbed by his brother right now.

"Ah, now, don't be that way lil' brothah," Merle said. He sat silently for a moment before pouring Daryl another shot and taking one himself. "Tell ya tha truth, I was beginnin' ta worry 'bout ya, so I'm kinda glad ta see ya mouth runnin' over some skirt, even if she ain't tha kind that's gonna let'cha hit no home runs."

Merle chuckled again and took another shot. He turned slightly in his stool and Daryl didn't even have to follow his gaze to know that he was checking Carol out, wherever she may be in the bar right now.

"Nah…she ain't even gonna let'cha get outta the dugout, boy," Merle said. "Looks like she done got her a man that's eyein' her…one Mr. Po-liiice Officer," Merle drawled.

Daryl turned slightly on his stool and scanned the smoky bar to spot Carol speaking to a second officer. He was the guy, Shane, that had been there at the Dairy-O. Though he was wearing the pants to his uniform, he was wearing a t-shirt and nothing else to mark him as a cop. He was clearly supposed to be off duty, though he apparently had been home to change. He shared the table with the other officer, Rick, and currently he was busy telling some story with his hands that Carol was enthralled with. She stood by his table, watching him. Daryl couldn't hear the story, but he could hear his voice booming, indicating that he was very likely a drink or two over the legal limit himself, and also that he was putting on a clear show for Carol's attention.

"I don't care," Daryl snarled, turning around.

"Don't be sour, boy, he's more her speed. Got him a good job, prob'ly from 'round here. Yeah…real respectable. She don't belong here no more than he do, an' she'll be outta this here joint just soon as she can afford ta keep that husband from poundin' on her face…" Merle said, pausing to take a shot. "An' ya can bet, he'll be goin' with her."

Daryl fished a cigarette out of the pack that was tucked in his pocket and lit it. He had no idea why it bothered him, but it did. He knew that clearly the police officer was a better fit for Carol, and it wasn't like he'd ever imagined himself being something she'd be interested in. Still, for whatever reason, it crawled his ass when he looked over there and saw her fixated on whatever stupid story he was telling. It was probably a lie anyway. The altercation at the Dairy-O had probably been the most exciting thing that had happened to the bastard in months.

Andrea walked up a few minutes later and leaned on the bar a minute. Daryl glanced up at her and saw that her expression was obviously a flustered one.

"The hell happened ta you?" Merle asked. Andrea sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Just got off the fuckin' phone with Loretta," Andrea said. "Apparently she's hired someone else to come and work here. Now we'll be splittin' the fuckin' tips three ways most nights. All I can say is the little bitch better work her ass off 'cause Carol's just barely raking in enough to keep me from being pissed about splittin' with her and the little bitch that's 'bout to start working don't even need the fuckin' job."

Merle chuckled a little.

"Ya sure is steamed up, sugar tits," he said. "What's got'cha so pissed 'bout this new lil' gal?"

"Her name is Mary Ann Walsh," Andrea said. "She's barely legal to even serve booze and she looks like a fucking Barbie doll. Loretta's only hiring her to keep in some good graces. She's Shane's cousin. It's a summer job for her, but she's going to be sucking money outta my pocket so she can go and fuck around at the mall in Calhoun."

"Where tha hell is that?" Merle asked, still not losing the smile he wore over Andrea's obviously annoyed expression.

"It's about an hour's drive from here," Andrea said. "County seat and the biggest town you're gonna run into before you run outta gas."

"Don't sweat it, sugah, I'm sure she ain't gon' hurt business too bad. If she ain't but barely legal she's bound ta make a dollar or two," Merle said. He elbowed Daryl hard and winked at him. Daryl could tell then that his brother was pretty well lit. "Might be a ticket for ya, lil' brothah!"

"What the hell are you talking about, Merle?" Andrea asked. She heaved herself off the bar and pretended to be working, but Daryl knew by now that she was simply bluffing to buy more time to talk to them without someone saying she wasn't doing anything.

"Ole Daryl's got him a sweet tooth," Merle said.

"Shut tha fuck up, Merle," Daryl growled.

Andrea looked between the two of them for a moment.

"One I don't know about?" Andrea asked.

"Well now that depends, sugah, how many dames has my lil' brothah been after?" Merle asked. Daryl curled his lip at him. Merle was trying to look sober, but it wasn't working. His eyes were too glossy and his eyelids were obviously too heavy.

"Just Carol, far as I know," Andrea said.

"Ya can both go ta hell," Daryl spat. It was bad enough having to deal with Merle's gum flapping. He didn't need the constant ribbing from Andrea to go with it.

"Well…so I ain't tha only one that knows it," Merle said. "Ain't that interestin'. I believe this is tha first time he's been in heat his whole damn life, an' now she done shut him down 'fore he even got his engine goin' good."

"Shut him down?" Andrea asked. She picked up a rag and started thoroughly cleaning the bar around them.

"She ain't fuckin' shut me down 'cause there ain't a damn thing ta shut down," Daryl said. "I give her a fuckin' ride 'cause she was walkin' down the street. I'da done it for anyone."

"Easy now," Merle said. "Don't get'cha panties twisted. We just havin' a lil' fun with ya."

Merle turned to Andrea who was a few steps away and scrubbing the bar probably better than it had been scrubbed in years. Daryl almost quit being mad simply because he was amused at thinking about how hard she was working to look like she was busy.

"Carol told him she couldn't ride with him no more an' now he's all down about it," Merle said.

Andrea looked up. She shrugged a little.

"So? Why's that the end of the world?" She asked.

Merle turned and looked at Daryl then. Daryl eyed both of them and fished another cigarette out of his pocket, refusing to pay either of them any attention.

"Reckon she done got her a sweetheart," Merle said. He gestured back toward the booth that was occupied by the two police officers.

"Who?" Andrea asked.

"That there officer," Merle said.

"Rick? Rick's married with a kid," Andrea said. "He isn't a bit more interested in Carol than a man in the moon."

"The other one," Merle said. "The dark headed one looks like he spends most his damn time lookin' at himself in his mirror."

Andrea looked again and snickered.

"Shane?" She asked. Merle shrugged. Daryl knew that Merle wasn't likely to know their names. He didn't bother to learn people's names unless they meant something to him, and law enforcement didn't mean much to him unless he was in the back of their squad car. "Shane might be putting on the charm, but that's what he does," Andrea said. "Carol's smart enough to know Shane's game…or at least I hope she is. If she ain't, she'll figure it out. He'll slime his way into the bed of any woman, long as she'll open her legs for him, but then he's gone before the sheets get cold."

"Kinda like me," Merle said. He grinned and poured himself another shot.

"Take that damn bottle," Daryl said to Andrea suddenly. "He needs ta sober up if he's got any hope at all a' makin' it ta work tomorrow."

Andrea reached and took the bottle.

"As much as I'd love to stay and chat with you assholes, I gotta go and earn my keep before Carol starts thinkin' that I'm the weak link around here," Andrea said. "Don't be so down about her not accepting rides, Daryl. I'm sure it ain't nothing personal. This is a small damn town and it ain't hard to get a reputation. She's still a married woman, and the last thing she probably needs is for someone to say she was running around with someone on the back roads, especially a stranger." Andrea started to walk off then, but she turned and spoke over her shoulder at Daryl again before leaving. "And don't worry about Shane too much. Even if he does lay it to her, ain't gonna damage the goods too much. He's not much to look at, if you catch my drift." She winked at him and walked off.

Daryl shook his head, images he didn't want suddenly invading. He took the shot that was sitting in front of him, the same one that had been there for a while and lit another cigarette. Carol was tending the men shooting pool now. He watched her for a moment and cast his glance back over the dark haired police officer. As much as he didn't like the idea of the man going out with Carol, he especially didn't like the idea of him using her. She seemed like a woman who had been used enough in her life. He hoped that maybe Andrea would be a decent enough friend to the woman to let her know that the man was simply trying to smarm his way into her bed.

"Fuckin' shit…" Daryl muttered to himself. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but somehow the skinny redhead had gotten into his head. He'd always given Merle shit about getting fixated on women, but now it had happened to him and he didn't even know when or how it had happened. He cursed himself again and forced himself to turn on his stool where he couldn't see her. The thing that pissed him off most about this was that he didn't even feel like he was doing this right. He felt like whenever Merle had his mind set on a woman it was all about fucking her. He'd hear Merle giving damn speeches around whatever shit hole they lived in about one woman's ass, or another one's tits. Everything he ever said had something to do with how she had an ass that brought tears to his eyes or had tits that made him want to sit up and beg for milk. And yet Daryl didn't feel that way about Carol. He was such a pansy ass that he was sitting over here sulking over stale whisky about the fact that he wasn't going to get to ride in the cab of his truck alone with her while he took her to work, even though he'd fixed Andrea's car, he realized now, just for the opportunity. He could almost kick himself for being such a pussy.

Daryl cut his eyes over at Merle who was leaning sleepily on his hand. He knew he'd have to take him home soon, and now was just as good a time as any. He wanted to get out of the bar and away from Carol. She was probably mocking him in her mind right now just for thinking that she'd be accepting rides from him again.

"Wake tha fuck up," Daryl growled, pushing at Merle's shoulder. "We're goin' home. Ya gotta sober up 'cause we can't afford ta lose ya damn paycheck 'cause ya couldn't get'cha drunk ass outta bed."

Merle stirred and started to get off the stool.

"Take it easy, Derlina," Merle said. "Ya ain't gotta be such a lil' bitch about it."

Daryl got up and shoved at his brother's arm, leading him out of the bar and into the cool night air.