Merle sighed and cracked his neck. It was noon and the sun was fucking blistering. He saw Sinclaire roll her shoulders and rub the back of her neck tiredly. They'd decided to walk on up the road and clear cars for a long way rather than driving for a few feet and stopping "8000 times" as she'd put it.

"Tired, sweetheart?" Merle called.

"Tired doesn't cover it," she replied, ignoring the endearment. "And I think I've pulled a muscle."

"Where at?"

"Why do you care?"

"Where the fuck at?"

She pointed to her shoulder and Merle reached out and rubbed it.

"That better?"

"Uh…" she wanted to pull away, but damn it, it did make it better.

"Sounds like it to me," he grinned at her.

"Yeah well," she began but then she gasped in pain when his grip tightened. "What the…oh."

There were four men walking up the embankment.

"Ya'll need help?" the blonde called cordially.

Sinclaire felt sick with anxiety suddenly.

"Help with what?" Merle drawled, keeping his hand on the back of her neck.

"Anything," another of the men said. "You're walking. It's amazing you and your wife have survived."

"I'm a pretty goddamned amazing guy," Merle replied.

"I'm Will," the blonde man said, ignoring Merle's less than friendly behavior. "And it sure it nice to see some fellow survivors. This is Patrick, Sam, and Donny," he gestured at his companions. "We've got a real secure little place just down there if you're interested in a shower, some food…maybe even a bed if you'd like."

"And whatcha want for all that food and comfort?" Merle asked.

Sinclaire was relieved at the skepticism in his voice. She couldn't put her finger on the reason, but she didn't trust Will and his little band of survivors.

"Nothing," the man Will had called Sam sounded shocked. "We try to get out here every day, looking for anyone who might have survived this thing, or people who need medical attention. Like you," he nodded at the, now dirty, bandage on Merle's right arm.

"Its fine," Merle snarled.

"Your wife might be tired though," Will said, sounding both patient and concerned.

Sinclaire didn't make the denial she figured Merle was expecting. It was clear to her that they thought she was an abused wife, and she was more than happy to let them nurse the delusion. She was all for equality, but in this situation she was outnumbered and she hadn't missed the fact that they were outgunned. Every member of the group with Will had a gun in hand. She was glad Merle had kept his left hand on the back of her neck in that possessive way.

"Ya don't need to worry about her," he said gruffly. "I can take care of her just fine."

"Well, if you really want to get on your way, we won't hold you up. It's just that we brought down a buck and we thought we'd offer you some before you hit the road. My wife's a pretty good little campfire cook," Will shrugged. "She and Donny's wife sure were excited to hear about another woman out there."

Merle swallowed hard at the thought of venison. Sinclaire glanced up at him.

"Merle," she whispered when she saw the look in his eyes.

"Hang on," he said to the men as he turned and pulled her out of earshot. "What ya think?"

"I think we should just keep walking," Sinclaire answered. "I don't trust any of them."

"Hell sweetheart, there's trust and then there's venison," Merle argued. "We could be in and out after we eat."

Sinclaire crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Ya expect me to believe that ya can't take 'em?" he drawled. "Between you and me those pussies don't have a chance."

She smiled in spite of herself and he took that as assent, turning back to the group and accepting their generosity in typical Merle fashion. Anyone hearing the conversation would have assumed he was doing them a favor by eating their food rather than the opposite.

Sinclaire didn't know what motivated her, but she tossed the box truck keys into the grass behind her, where they couldn't see them. Red Bronco, crack in the windshield, she repeated to herself, as she walked over to the group, trying to fix it in her mind. Merle put his hand on the back of her neck again and they walked down the embankment.

They both stopped short when the building came into view.

"A fuckin' jail?" Merle questioned.

"It's a very secure location," Sam stated.

"And it's well set up, everything you need," Patrick agreed.

"I'm going to go ahead and let the missus know you're coming," Donny said before jogging off quickly.

"She's a little shy," Will said. "She'll feel more comfortable if we give her time to get used to the idea of company."

"How long have she and Donny been married?"

Merle was surprised at the tone in Sinclaire's voice. She'd made it fuckin' timid somehow. He wouldn't have thought the brash Yank he knew was capable of sounding like that.

"2 years," Will answered after a slight hesitation.

"And you and your wife?" Sinclaire pressed.

"4," he replied. "Maybe we should…"

"And what are their names?" Sinclaire asked.

"Mine…my wife's name is Candace and Donny's is Monica," Will's tone sharpened and Merle stepped in.

"She asks too many fuckin' questions," he said.

"Sorry," Sinclaire ducked her head in what she hoped was a properly submissive stance. "It's just been so long since we've seen anyone…"

"It's fine," Will reassured her in a stiff voice.

They got to the jail and Donny let them in.

"The women are cooking," he informed them. "Why don't the two of you have a rest? Or a shower? We have a generator."

"I…" Sinclaire began but Merle cut in, accepting for them both.

"Sure. Me and my wife can go in together right?"

Sinclaire wanted to kick him.

Will laughed heartily and pointed them to the bathroom.

"Fuck you Merle Dixon," Sinclaire whispered when the door closed behind them.

He laughed.

"Don't get all upset over it. It makes sense if ya think about it. We got a shit-load of weaponry we don't want stolen and the easiest way is for it to stay in here. One of us can shower and the other can watch the stuff and then we'll switch."

"I guess that does make sense," she admitted grudgingly. "Who goes first?"

"Ya can if ya want," he shrugged.

"You keep your eyes down," she ordered.

"Hell, I've done seen most of it," he reminded her. "And it looks damn good."

"As flattering as that is, I'm not inclined to show it off again," she answered dryly. "Seriously, if I catch you peeking…"

"What'll ya do?" Merle asked in curiosity, facing the wall and listening to her undressing.

"Flick soap in your eyes and then kick you in the nuts."

"Damn. You're right. It ain't worth it."

She laughed and he heard the shower curtain rustle as she pulled it closed and started the water.

"Whatever. It's totally worth it," she called.