"So what's up?" Sinclaire asked Shane when they were a good way from the group.

"I want to know just what the hell you thought you were doing bringing them here."

He shifted the rifle and stared her down. Or at least he tried. Sinclaire met his gaze as she crossed her arms which had the double benefit of looking nonchalant and putting her in drawing distance of her gun. She raised an eyebrow. So did he. She wondered if they were going to stand here all day like this.

"I thought," she said calmly. "That they seemed like good people."

He snorted. "So you had some kind of Indian communion moment? Good vibes?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Well, my white wolf spirit guide told me they were cool. What more was there to ask for?"

Shane sighed heavily. Sinclaire shrugged. Who the hell had even told him about her quarter Indian heritage anyway?

"They don't look dangerous to me," she said. "And they were headed this way anyway. They would have been here by tonight even if they hadn't followed us back. Wouldn't you rather let them see the strength we've got then let them sneak up in the night?"

"I guess," Shane mused. "But I think it'd be a good idea to double the guard until we know for sure."

"That's a good idea."

"And I think that, since it was your idea, you take first watch with Rick."

"Fine." She smiled sweetly at him. "And since you're so concerned about all our safety, you'll take the second one."

She walked away before he could answer, not that she'd really left him any argument. The group at the fire seemed tense, but not everyone was as worried about the newcomers as Shane. Dale, T, and the Reverend were deep in a discussion that looked almost friendly. The girl caught her eye and stood up.

"So you said the truck was yours," she said abruptly. "But you didn't say that I couldn't sleep in it. I mean you really do have that tree house and-"

"Ain't a tree house," Daryl snarled. "It's a deer stand."

"I've never seen a deer stand that looked like that," the girl said with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

"Been up in a lotta deer stands sweetheart?" Daryl drawled.

"Just as many as you," she shot back.

"Bullshit. How old are ya anyway?"

"None of your business."

She walked away. Daryl glanced at Sinclaire. She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Yer gonna watch my back tonight right?" he asked. "Pretty sure she wants me dead."

"I'll be watching more backs than just yours," Sinclaire informed him. "Shane wants to double up on watch for awhile. I got roped into the first one."

"I'll sit up with ya."

"Actually I've been assigned to Rick."

"Rick?" Daryl repeated. "Assigned by who?"

"Shane."

"Why the hell ya lettin' that asshole push ya around?"

"I'm not letting him push me around," Sinclaire said patiently. "He's right."

"Ya didn't tell him that did ya?"

She laughed. "Of course not."

"Well…" Daryl finally shrugged. "I guess there ain't nothin' I can do about it now."

"I'm afraid not," she agreed.

"This kinda sucks."

"Why?"

He shrugged again and headed back to the truck. It was only once he was halfway there that Sinclaire realized what he meant. She sucked at sexual innuendo apparently. She guessed that he wanted to finish what they'd started at the tree house. She chewed her thumbnail absentmindedly and thought about it.

It had been nice. It had felt good. It hadn't scared her at all at the time. She wasn't sure she could do it again though. She felt heat flooding along her face as she thought about it. She'd probably been a little too eager now that she thought back on it.

"What the hell ya thinkin' about?" Merle asked as he watched her face turn the color of sunset.

"Nothing!"

"Sex," he said with satisfaction. "Ya always look like that when yer thinkin' about sex."

"How often have you seen me think about sex?"

"When ya read those dirty books of yers. And when my brother shows up. How come ya never looked at me like that?"

Sinclaire rubbed her cheeks vigorously to try and redistribute the blood that had collected there.

"Oh come on Merle, everybody knows I can barely keep my hands off of you," she said.

"I ain't noticed. So did ya finally make a man outta my brother or not?"

"He's manly enough," Sinclaire said. "But we got interrupted by the new people."

"Interrupted how far along?"

"Classified."

"Fuck it is. Did ya—"

"No. No we didn't. We were kissing and…stuff."

Merle raised an eyebrow.

"Reckon somebody else could take yer watch fer ya."

"Are you offering?"

"Hell no. I'm goin' to sleep."

"Well, I think that I'll be okay going without."

"Not impressed with him?" Merle asked.

"He's…he's fine. I didn't see any reason to not be impressed. Go away. I'm trying to stop blushing and you're just making it worse!"

He laughed and walked over to Daryl.

"Hey there little brother," he said casually.

"Ah fuck. She told ya," Daryl answered resignedly.

"I just came to say I was proud of ya is all."

"Bullshit."

Merle boosted himself up into the truck and said, "She's got nice tits don't she?"

"When the hell did ya see her..." Daryl couldn't even manage to finish the sentence.

"Been awhile," Merle admitted. "Right after I met her. She changed clothes in the back of the truck. I was pretty impressed. Guess ya was too."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Merle.

"Ya sure yer all right with this?"

"Ya having sex? Change ain't easy but I think I'll be all right."

"No. Me and Sinclaire havin' sex."

"Ya think I care who she fucks?"

"I know damn good and well ya care who she fucks. What would ya do if Nate—"

"Kick his ass."

"See? Ya care."

"That's just 'cause he's a fuckin' jackass and I don't trust him."

"What if Shane made a move?"

"He's an even bigger jackass."

"Rick?"

"Yeah right."

"T-dog?"

"Fuck no."

"Glenn?"

"His hands are pretty full. But even if they wasn't…no. Ain't happenin'. Who you gonna say next? The old man? The preacher?"

"The old man's already fuckin' one woman half his age," Daryl pointed out. "And preachers got needs too."

"No," Merle said flatly. "None of them."

"See? Ya care." Daryl repeated.

"Why do ya care that I care?" Merle demanded. "Ya lookin' to get out of it or somethin'?"

"I'm pretty much lookin' to get into it," Daryl contradicted. "But I don't wanna…ya know. If ya want her then ya oughta tell me."

"What if I said I did?"

Merle watched Daryl's face fall.

"Lucky fer ya I ain't sayin' that. Yer poker face still sucks." He punched Daryl in the shoulder and headed toward the bar.

"Yer sure?" Daryl called after him.

"Sure am." Merle called back before continuing in an undertone. "Wouldn't do me much good no way. She ain't never looked at me like she does—"

"You know talking to yourself is one of the first signs of insanity right?"

"An ya know it takes one to know one," Merle answered with a grin at Sinclaire. "Enjoy yer watch."

"Oh you know it," she answered with a wink as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. "It'll be a thrill a minute."

"Think ya got it confused with other, better things," he informed her. "I expect ya to holler if ya need me."

"You'd be the first person I'd call," she said honestly as she took her seat on the back steps of the bar and watched the sun go down.

Rick joined her a little later, even bringing her a blanket from inside.

"Wow," she said thankfully. "Chivalry isn't dead."

"Actually," Rick said as he sat down beside her. "Merle threw it at me on the way out. He said you get cold."

"He spoke the truth," Sinclaire acknowledged. "Don't tell him what I said about chivalry. It'll go to his head."

Rick nodded and glanced toward the SUV.

"What do you think of them?" he asked after a moment.

"I don't mind them," Sinclaire answered after some thought. "They could be okay."

"I talked to her some more about this Governor," Rick went on. "If I didn't know how scared she was I'd have said she was lying."

"Why?"

"It seems…unreal." Rick told her about the man who called himself the Governor, about people fighting in a cage of live zombies, about his collection of heads in aquariums, about his total control over an entire town.

"Damn," Sinclaire muttered. "And where exactly is this?"

"They've come a long way," Rick said. "I got one of the maps Nate brought with him and showed her where we are. She showed me where she was from and the town, Woodbury, is about eighty miles from here. But she says they go looking for other places, other survivors, for supplies and manpower."

Sinclaire chewed her lip.

"Do you think we should move out?" Rick asked. "Get further away from this guy? There's only so far he's going to go."

"That's true," Sinclaire agreed. "But that doesn't mean we won't run into more people like him."

"You really think there are more towns like Woodbury?"

"I don't know. But I know that there were other people who went a little batshit, even at the beginning of this. I didn't tell you before, but Merle and I ran into some whack jobs on the way here."

She told him the story of the men holed up in the small prison and how she and Merle had escaped. She also told him about Metz, but she left out the details of that one. Of all the things she'd done since this whole thing started, leaving the school her unit had occupied was the one that really haunted her.

"It's been different for us," Rick said slowly. "I guess some people kind of lost it—"

"I doubt it was Merle's stellar teamwork skills that landed him on that roof," Sinclaire said with a slight smile.

Rick chuckled a little and said, "Not quite. But there were others. People you didn't know. A woman named Jackie…she chose to stay when the CDC blew. There was a man named Jim who got bitten. He didn't tell us, but we found out. Sometimes I wonder if he'd have said anything at all or if he'd have just turned and put us all in danger."

"Fear does things to a person's mind," Sinclaire said. "Things that you never thought you'd do…" she cleared her throat and said, "Anyway, I don't think you realize how much influence you have over these people. You're the one who keeps them sane, together, and functioning."

"Except for the Dixon brothers," Rick corrected. "That's pretty much in your hands."

"Merle maybe," she acknowledged. "But the point is…I've held command before. Not for long...I'd actually just made Captain right before this whole thing started…but I do know how hard it is and how much stress you must be under. So I just wanted you to know that I'll help you in any way I can."

"Thank you," Rick said sincerely. "I'll keep that in mind."

"No problem. Now, back to this Governor thing…"

They spent the rest of watch debating strategy and perusing maps. In the end they decided to stay where they were for now, but they also decided that a doubled watch was the new normal. By the time Shane and T showed up they felt a bit more satisfied with their safety.

She waved to Rick and then walked over to the box truck. It wouldn't be long till Bowhunter would be waking up. He woke up like clockwork at about 5, which Sinclaire found to be ungodly. She'd had to wake up early during her military career, but it was the worst thing about it in her opinion. Bowhunter had missed his calling.

She slid open the truck door cautiously, but he was clearly asleep. She didn't know whether she was relieved or disappointed, but she crawled in and lowered the door quietly. Then she lay down a bit closer than normal to get some warmth.

She thought she'd woken him with her awkward attempt to snuggle when he rolled over and pulled her close, but either she hadn't or he'd forgotten about finishing what they'd started, because he didn't do anything else. Once again, she wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed.