The morning that dawned approximately two weeks later was beautiful; it was cool crisp and sunny and the bright morning sun sparkled over the river behind the bar. Too bad the mood inside was so dark. Rick and Shane had fought over something trivial which would have been sort of normal, but Lori had taken Shane's side which had pissed Rick off even more. Carl had teased Sophia about zombies until she cried, Andrea and Dale had apparently had words the night before because they weren't currently speaking and Merle, who was angry at Sinclaire, had yelled at Daryl until he'd thrown up his hands and gone hunting.

"Look Merle, sometimes books don't end the way you want them to," Sinclaire said from her place on the front porch. "I'm sorry Andrews died but…"

"Fuck that piece of shit," Merle grumbled. "This is why I don't read!"

"You watched TV. How is that different?"

"Just is."

"How about I borrow The Boxcar Children from Sophia and read that? I promise it has a happy ending."

"God don't talk to me about happy endings."

"Ew. Will you forgive me for sharing the written word?"

"Hell, I guess so."

Merle sighed grudgingly and sat down beside her.

"Got any more books?" he asked after they'd been silent for a while.

"Yep. We can start another one tonight if you apologize to Daryl."

"For what?" Merle asked indignantly.

"You called him a dipshit."

"He is a dipshit."

"That may be your opinion, but I'm not going to read unless you're nice to your little brother."

"Fuck you."

"Keep it up and I'll read to Daryl without you."

"That what ya callin' it?"

"What?"

"Nothin'," Merle sighed at the clueless look on her face. "I'm officially givin' up on gettin' him some. Or you some either."

"You were trying to pimp me to your brother?"

"No," Merle said with dignity. "Just givin' him helpful suggestions…"

He went silent when they heard the crunch of tires on gravel. Sinclaire bolted to her feet as Merle grabbed his gun. She pressed her face to one of the cracks the Dixon brothers had left for the purpose and then sighed with relief.

"It's just Nate."

"Just Nate," Merle's bad mood came back in a rush when he saw her smile. "Whatdaya think he wants?"

"Only one way to find out," she replied, walking through the bar. "Just a heads up," she called to the room at large. "Nate's back."

"Is Carrie with him?" Glenn asked eagerly.

"I don't know," Sinclaire answered. "I just recognized the car. If she is you'd better get sleeveless fast."

"Wait and I'll come out with you," Rick said.

"Fuck that," Merle grumbled. "I'll go."

Obviously not in the mood for another argument Rick only shrugged. Sinclaire gave him a smile of thanks and walked out into the backyard. She waved at the SUV and Nate stepped out. He looked friendly so Sinclaire returned his smile; Merle's only concession was to take his finger off the trigger of his gun.

"I was hoping I'd catch you," Nate said to Sinclaire. "I wondered if you wanted to ride to the store with me."

"Hell no. She ain't stupid," Merle answered before Sinclaire even had a chance to open her mouth.

"I appreciate the offer," Sinclaire said after elbowing Merle. "But as my eloquent friend has just pointed out, I don't take rides from strangers."

"I thought you might turn me down," Nate admitted. "So in order to show you that my intentions are good, I'm offering to take a shopping list and bring back what I can find for you guys."

"That's really nice of you," Sinclaire said, gesturing for him to come inside the bar. "And I guess pretty much any food would do really."

However, when she explained his offer to Lori and Carol they were more than happy to start on a list. Apparently there were some things in the kitchen that they were only lacking a few ingredients to be able to make. It was nice to have someone around who knew about that kind of stuff. It wasn't exactly her strong suit for sure. She pointed to the row of liquor bottles on the bar top and raised her eyebrow at Nate. He indicated a bottle of scotch and she poured him a skimpy shot.

"You're driving," she said when he raised his eyebrow at the amount in the glass. "And…this is just really good scotch."

It annoyed Merle to see Sinclaire joking with Nate like that. He poured himself a more generous shot, which Sinclaire took and drank half of before giving it back, and drank it down.

"So you're by yourself?" Sinclaire asked Nate after getting several significant looks from Glenn.

"Yeah. I'd rather have someone to watch my back, but the girls aren't combat trained and they'd end up being a distraction. I've been in the store before; it's not too bad. There's only one entrance point now."

"Why're ya so damn eager to make friends?" Merle asked. "Ya got two girls to yourself out there…"

"Safety in numbers," Nate said simply, ignoring Merle's not-so-veiled accusation. "The girls liked you; so did I. You're better set up here, with the river and everything. Two of you are law enforcement, one's military, you've got a hunter, mothers, kids…what I'm getting at is that your group could be the start of a new community when this is over and we'd like to be a part of it."

Everyone in the room sort of stared at him. None of them had ever thought of it that way before.

"Huh. King and Queen right here," Merle said, putting his arm over Sinclaire's shoulders briefly.

"Why us?" she asked, bemused.

"It's our bar," he answered simply.

Sinclaire laughed and said, "Good enough for me."

Nate took the shopping list and headed out, promising to be back as soon as he could. Sinclaire spent the rest of the day chatting with Merle and watching for Daryl. The sun was going to go down soon and he still wasn't back. Neither was Nate. Surely they couldn't both die in a day though. Not a Navy SEAL and a…whatever Daryl could be classified as.

She was sitting on the back porch with her chin in her hands when she saw a lone figure come over the ridge. She waved. Daryl waved back, picking up the pace a bit.

He'd had a decent day after he'd stopped being pissed at Merle. Several of his traps had been used when he checked them and he'd ended up with three rabbits and a possum. And four squirrels. Not a bad day at all considering it was almost winter time when most stuff would be hunkered down till spring.

The SUV pulled in before he got the porch and since Sinclaire didn't look worried, he assumed that somehow she'd known about it. As a matter of fact she'd hopped off the porch and was standing by the car chatting with Nate.

"Hey!" Nate greeted him. "It's Dale right?"

"Daryl," Daryl corrected, insulted. "Dale's the old guy with the hat."

"That's right. Sorry," Nate said with a friendly smile.

"Whatever," Daryl shrugged. "What's all this?"

"Nate went shopping," Sinclaire said.

"Yeah? Well…I went huntin'."

"I see. How'd you do?"

"Good."

Daryl turned to go into the bar just as Nate hefted several grocery bags.

"Wait! Bow hunter…" Sinclaire tried to keep the laughter out of her voice and nearly succeeded. "Are there squirrels in your back pockets?"

"Yeah," he answered, refusing to turn around. "So?"

"No reason."

Daryl walked inside, plunked the bag he'd carried the rabbits and possum in on the counter and emptied his pockets of squirrels.

"Nate's here," he said bitterly.

"Told ya, ya shoulda got on that while ya had the chance," Merle said unsympathetically. "Now look whatcha done. He brings home groceries; you show up with a pocket full of dead animal. She's gonna be all cuddled up with that guy by the end of the night…"

"She is not!" Daryl said firmly.

"Ya finally gonna do somethin' about it?"

"She…I…she ain't the cuddlin' type's all I'm sayin'."

"Who isn't the cuddling type?" Sinclaire asked from behind Daryl.

"Nobody," he said idiotically.

"You were talking about me behind my back again weren't you?" Sinclaire asked Merle.

"Maybe just a little sweetheart," he said with a grin. "Nothin' else to do around here is there?"

"Not until you apologize," she said sweetly.

"What'd ya do to her?" Daryl asked in amusement.

"Nothin' she says I did it to you."

"Huh?" Daryl was confused.

"He called you a dipshit. You don't remember that?"

"Hell, he knows I've called him worse than that," Merle said. "Ya don't want no fuckin' apology do ya?"

Daryl crossed his arms and looked thoughtful.

"What'd ya say ya'd do if he didn't?" he asked Sinclaire.

"No more books."

Daryl rubbed his middle finger along his lower lip and said, "Yeah. I'm feelin' real hurt Merle."

"You're about to be hurtin' for real," Merle growled.

Sinclaire patted Daryl's shoulder in sympathy and shook her head sadly.

"I guess the next book will just be you and me Daryl."

"Reckon so."

"Fine. I'm sorry I called ya a dipshit."

Sinclaire gave Merle a big smile and said, "Was that so hard?"

"Blow me."

She left the room to help put away the groceries and Merle looked at his younger brother.

"Shoulda called somethin' a lot worse."