A note from me: Okay, no spoilers...but FUCK YOU AMC. Just...fuck you to hell.

"Who's my good little boy?" Sinclaire's voice crooned.

"My brother lets ya talk to him like that?" Merle called as he walked into the kitchen the next day, promptly forgetting his plan to just not talk to her anymore.

She laughed. "No. You were drunk yesterday so you didn't get a chance to say 'ello to my leetle friend."

She held a small black bundle of fur in his face and he drew back to look at it properly.

"It's a cat."

"A cat it is," Sinclaire agreed happily. "Fuck the dogs of war. Cats are where it's at. He hates everybody but me."

"Yeah?" Merle tickled it under the chin and it squirmed out of her grip and landed on his shoulder. "Looks like it."

"I'll be damned," Sinclaire said. "Zeke likes you."

"Zeke?" Merle repeated. "Ya named him Zeke? That's a damn good name comein' from a Yank like ya."

"Sure did. He seemed very Zeke-esque the more I thought about it. Daryl's scared of him."

Merle grinned briefly and then remembered his deal with himself.

"Get yer warcat. I got shit to do."

Sinclaire scooped Zeke off of Merle's shoulder with a sigh. "Are you still mad at me?"

Merle didn't answer; he just followed the scent of cigarette smoke outside. Daryl and Glenn were sitting on the porch steps. Glenn was lecturing about the dangers of smoking and Daryl was puffing contentedly.

"Gimme one. I gotta say little brother, can't believe it's been all these years and yer still scared of pussy," Merle commented as he put the cigarette behind his ear for later.

Daryl coughed and Glenn snorted.

"I ain't scared of that cat!" Daryl said when he finished coughing.

"Then how come you jumped when it snuck up behind you?" Marie asked from her spot at the fire.

"Because it stuck it's claws in my damn leg!" Daryl snapped. "Them things is fuckin' sharp!"

"Poor baby brother," Merle drawled. "I'm sure Yank'll kiss it make it all better."

"Not likely," Sinclaire said from behind him. "What have you got planned today, Merle?"

"Supply run," he said quickly. "Ammo. We're runnin' low." He was congratulating himself on his ability to think on his feet when she nodded.

"That's a good point. Where do you want to look?"

"Thought I'd take Rick," he said, hooking his thumb into his belt loop and nodding at Officer Friendly who was sitting morosely by the fire. "Ain't gonna hurt him to get out of here fer a while."

"Are you saying I'm not invited?"

"If I gotta spell it out fer ya."

"I hope you weren't planning to take my box truck then," she said, making her voice saccharine sweet.

"Ya ain't gotta be a bitch about it."

"Of the two of us I don't think I"m the one being bitchy. I'm going," she said getting closer and smacking his chest with the palm of her hand. "And there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."

He looked down at her. Her face flushed a little when she got good and mad and there weren't enough layers between them to keep him from remembering every bare inch of her body. He swallowed hard and clenched his teeth.

"And fuck you Merle Dixon!" she finished with another poke in the center of his chest. "Don't make me pull rank."

"Ya can pull-" he bit his tongue to keep from finishing the sentence. "Whatever. Don't see what ya wanna go fer anyway."

"Why wouldn't I want to go? Do you think I love lounging around the bar?"

"Ain't nothin' wrong with it."

"Then why don't you stay?"

"Cause it was my idea to go Yank." He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down.

"I'm goin' too," Daryl said. "To keep ya'll from hurtin' each other."

"Fine with me baby brother," Merle said agreeably.

Sinclaire threw up her hands and jogged down the steps.

"We're going ammo scouting," she announced. "Anyone feel like a ride along?"

Nate looked interested, but when he found out that Sinclaire, Merle and Daryl were going he decided to stay at the camp. It was a good decision because they needed someone experienced to stay and guard the camp. It was also a good decision because both Dixon's hated Nate.

"Yer comin' too," Merle said to Rick. "Fresh air and all that shit."

"What?" Rick asked blankly.

"Get off yer ass and do somethin'."

Rick didn't look inclined to agree.

"Come on!" Sinclaire shouted from the truck bed.

Rick moved as if on autopilot; Merle understood. Sinclaire's army voice was impossible to ignore. He jumped into the back of the truck and tried not to think of what went on here at night.

"Do you have the map?" Sinclaire asked Daryl.

He gave her a blank look and she sighed.

"I got the map," Merle said, leaning over the seat between them. "Here."

"Thanks," she said. "Although it helps if you open it up."

"Ya ever tried to open a map one handed?"

She didn't answer. She just spread the map across the seat between her and Daryl.

"So this is Woodbury," she said. "And we know we don't want to go that way. These are the fancy houses."

"We don't wanna go that way either," Daryl said. "We don't know who's down there. Preacherman and Marie didn't come from that way."

"Oh you finally asked her?" Sinclaire asked absently.

"Yeah. Actually I asked him. Same thing."

"If yer too much of a pussy to talk to women."

"Suck it," Daryl said absently. "I say we go this way."

"Why?" Rick asked.

"Why not?" he answered with a shrug. "Gotta start somewhere."

"I agree," SInclaire said. "Maybe we'll find a sign or two. I don't know what is wrong with the south, but you guys really seem to hate signage."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with the south," Merle countered. "We just figure that if ya wanna go somewhere, ya outghta know how to get there."

She cranked the truck with a half grin. "Touche. Also, we need gas."

"Take yer pick," Bowhunter answered with a gesture as they pulled onto the highway.

"Okay. That one. Have fun."

"Why've I gotta do it?"

"Because I have sex with you and you should be nice to me."

Rick laughed and Sinclaire gave him a grin over her shoulder.

"If a Walker gets me ya ain't gonna be gettin' none," Daryl pointed out as he got out of the truck and swung the bow onto his shoulder. "Then what'll ya do?"

"Cry every night and be able to stretch out to sleep."

"Ouch." Daryl put his hand over his heart and gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.

"Okay fine. I'd keep to the right side of the mattress in remembrance of the nights we've shared."

"Damn straight."

"Get yer ass movin'," Merle barked as he climbed over the seat and jumped onto the pavement.

"Ya feel better now that ya slept it off?" Daryl asked as they walked over to the big black Dodge 3500.

"Nothin' wrong with the way I feel," Merle said. "Get that bow ready, I'm gonna open the door."

Daryl raised the bow and nodded. "Go fer it."

Merle swung the door open and stepped back.

"Clear," Daryl said after a quick scan. "And hey look! Beef jerky."

Merle shouldered him out of the way and snatched the bag away. Daryl smacked him in the back of the head.

"There's more over there. Get yer own."

"Got my own baby brother. Why don't ya get that one?"

"Cause I found this one! And it's the hot and spicy kind. Other one's teriyaki. I don't like teriyaki."

"Ya know when ya whine like that it really takes me back," Merle said nostalgically. "Fine. Take it."

"What are you guys doing?" SInclaire called.

Daryl held up the bag of jerky as Merle pulled the lever to open the gas tank.

"Why didn't I think of checking the cars?" Sinclaire asked Rick.

"Probably because that's traditionally called stealing," Rick pointed out. "But we should probably start checking from now on."

"How are you doing by the way?" Sinclaire asked.

"Just fine," Rick deflected. "Look, they're already done."

"I feel like it's not out of Merle's comfort zone," she agreed. If Rick didn't want to talk she wasn't going to drag it out of him. It would be rude for one thing, and totally hypocritical for another.

Merle upended the newly filled gas can into the box truck and watched as Daryl munched beef jerky contentedly. Jackass. Cigarettes and beef jerky and Yank. He braced the gas can on his right arm and snatched the bag away again.

"The hell?" Daryl asked.

"Changed my damn mind. Ya can't have everything."

Daryl looked baffled, but he didn't bother arguing further. Maybe they could hit up a gas station later and find some more.

They drove slowly, on the lookout signs of life or signs for ammunition.

"Hang on," Bowhunter said sometime later. "Stop fer a second."

Sinclaire pressed the brake and wondered what the hell he expected to find in a state park.

"Watch my back," he said as he slid out of the truck. A few minutes later he was back. "Come here," he said, indicating Sinclaire and Merle. "Ya can come too if ya want," he said with a nod at Rick. "Just leave the cat."

"Thanks," Rick said dryly.

Sinclaire detached Zeke and stepped out of the truck to follow Bowhunter.

"Look familiar to ya'll?"

She followed his gaze and her mouth dropped open.

"Tank," she and Merle said together.

"More'n just the tank though," Merle said as he crouched and touched the smaller tracks. "Jeeps too."

Sinclaire knelt beside him and followed his fingers with her own.

"You're right."

"No shit I'm right," he said with a grin. "Marines musta survived."

"Army," she argued. "Uncle Sam's Misguided Children couldn't find their way out of a paper bag, let alone a state park."

"And a buncha Ain't Really Marines Yet are gonna do better?"

"Obviously. USMC. U suck my co-"

Merle pushed her onto her ass in the mud before she finished.

"We're getting off the point," Rick said. "Do we try to make contact?"

"Hell yeah!" Sinclaire said as Bowhunter helped her up. "I live to prove Merle wrong."

"We'll see," he said as he stood up. "If the Army was really bein' all they could be they'd be Marines by now."

Daryl and Rick shrugged at each other and they all headed down the hill. Daryl kept his eyes on the ground and everyone else stayed behind him so they didn't mess up the tracks.

"Tank ain't moved in while," Bowhunter said in a low voice. "Jeeps ain't neither, but somethin' been in and out not too far back. Ya see it? Lighter, but it's fresher. More like a small truck."

"Maybe they went to get supplies," Rick suggested.

"More'n likely," Daryl agreed. "We oughta get offa the trail. We don't want 'em to see us comin'."

"If they're Army ya ain't got nothin' to worry about," Merle said.

"Do you know why Marines wear nametape on their pants?" Sinclaire asked.

"Huh?"

"So you know whose name to scream."

"Suck it."

"I'm only Army. That's not my thing."

"Look," Daryl said quietly. "There's the tank. Hear that?"

The soft snarling of feeding zombies filled the still air.

"It doesn't sound like there are too many of them," Sinclaire said.

"Yeah, maybe they're pinned down in the tank," Rick said.

"Ya'd know all about that wouldn't ya?" Merle asked.

Rick narrowed his eyes at him and let the subject drop.

"Want to see if we can help?" Sinclaire asked.

"Reckon we should," Bowhunter answered as he glanced at Merle who shrugged.

They approached in the shadow of the tank. Daryl leaned around and picked off the nearest Walker. When he raised his gaze to the rest of the field his heart sank.

"Sinclaire," he said as he ducked back around. "We can take the walkers down...but I don't think there's anybody left."

She pushed past him and peeked around the tank. Bodies were scattered around, at least 15 men in fatigues and each with at least one Walker ripping down into their limp bodies. She swallowed the disappointment and anger that rose and raised her gun.

When the walkers were down, they checked the bodies for indications of what had happened. They had been Army, but Merle stayed quiet about it.

"They were shot," Sinclaire said. "All of them."

Daryl put his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off and climbed up into the tank. It was empty, not just of people but of supplies as well.

"Someone did this on purpose," she said as she climbed back out. "The supplies are gone."

She slid to the ground and leaned tiredly against the tank. "Now what?"

"We came lookin' fer ammo," Merle said. "Think we oughta see about that before we head home."

"I agree," Rick said. "But I also think we're heading too far up the mountain. We're not likely to find anything up here."

"That sounds like your way of volunteering to drive," Sinclaire said as she threw the keys to Rick. "I think Zeke and I are going to have a nap."

As they walked back to the box truck Merle mulled over his options. Sit in the back with Yank and suffer, let Daryl sit in the back with Yank and have to think about stuff he didn't want to think about, or sit up front with two other guys. There was no good option.

"Are you ready to explain why you're still mad at me?" Sinclaire asked as she climbed over the seat and onto the air mattress.

It looked like the front seat for him after all.

"So ya think we oughta head back down and then maybe try over here?" he asked Rick without bothering to answer Yank.

"Yeah," Rick answered. "What do you think SInclaire?"

She shrugged. "I've handed the mission over to you, Officer Grimes. Whither thou goest I will go."

RIck cranked the truck and pulled back onto the highway.

"What the hell are ya doin' up here anyway?" Merle asked Daryl who was wedged between him and Rick.

"Can't sit with my brother without the third degree?"

"Yer too scared of the cat to go sit with Sinclaire?"

"I ain't scared of that cat!" He flinched when a hiss sounded in his ear.

Merle couldn't keep from laughing at Sinclaire's triumphant expression as she said, "It was just me, Bowhunter."

"Yer a bad person," he informed her. "But I'm gonna say that it's his bad influence."

She grinned at Merle and he forced himself to turn his gaze away without returning the smile. The mission was largely unsuccessful. They found a small pawn shop, but it had been looted in the early days of the apocalypse and there was nothing usable left.

Sinclaire was pushing broken glass around gingerly, looking for big shiny diamonds or something that would cheer Merle up, when she heard a surprised laugh from the back office.

"What's funny?" she called.

"Nothin'," both Dixon's shouted back in unison.

"That's not a good sign," Rick said flatly.

"No. No it's not."

A few seconds later they came back, identical Cheshire cat grins on their faces.

"Seriously what did you find?" SInclaire asked, baffled.

"Nothin'." Again in chorus.

She eyed the brothers. Bowhunter had his hands in his jacket pockets. That was unusual.

"What's in your pocket?"

"Nothin'."

"Why would you lie to only person in the whole world who will fuck you?"

"Hey! I was gonna tell ya later anyway."

"Over my dead body!" Merle said indignantly.

"I found it an yer sharin'."

"Found what?" Sinclaire demanded again.

Daryl held up a smallish plastic bag. Sinclaire only looked more confused. Rick raised an eyebrow.

"Whatcha gonna do?" Merle drawled. "Charge him with possession?"

"And intent to distribute," Rick said.

"Ah come on. Be cool."

"Did you just tell me to be cool?"

"Yeah." Daryl pushed the baggie back into his pocket. "Ya don't like it, don't smoke it."

"So it's pot?" Sinclaire asked.

"Yeah," Daryl answered. "Could ya not see it?"

"I don't know what it looks like."

Everyone in the small pawnshop looked at her with pity in their eyes, even Rick, who was supposed to be the representative of law and order.

"I'm an Army captain!" she said defensively.

"Yeah," Merle said. "And I was a marine. What's yer point?"

"You shouldn't be doing this anyway. It's a gateway drug."

Daryl laughed so hard he had to sit down. Sinclaire kicked him in the leg.

"Yer just...it's funny cause yer so serious about it!" he defended himself, still laughing. "It ain't pot that made Merle the way he is. It's the fact that he ain't too bright."

"Kiss my ass," Merle said, even though he was doing everything he could not to laugh. Gateway drug. Fuckin' priceless.

Rick shrugged and helped pull Daryl to his feet.

"Gateway drug or not," he said. "We should get back to the camp and check on everybody."

"And smoke," Merle said. "I'm just sayin'."

"Ya gonna join us Yank? Or ya gonna sit there all prim and proper?" Daryl asked.

"I'm not smoking pot," she said. "I'll keep watch with Rick."

"It's not my watch," Rick said. "It's Amos and Carrie. I heard something about sharing."

"Booyah!" Daryl fistbumped Rick with a grin. "I know ya could be cool about it."

"What is this world coming to?" Sinclaire asked Zeke as she cranked the truck.

He batted her on the tip of the nose and purred as he took his rightful place on her shoulder.