Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or it's characters or it's plot. I just own whatever I made up in my head.

WARNING: Contains slight graphic sexual situations and language. Rating will remain at T for the time being.

Genevieve was doing her best to ignore the wind that was currently causing her hair to whip harshly at her face. Merle was speeding down the highway at unlawful speeds, dodging the occasional stray walker that had wandered on to the road. She was sitting in the bed of the truck with the wounded soldier, gripping his hand in hers as he groaned in agony. Both of their other hands were pushed onto his side where the piece of shrapnel had lodged itself, blood now caked her fingers and wrists but she didn't mind. All that mattered was keeping this man alive.

She stifled the curse words that threatened to fly out of her mouth as Merle wasn't again jerked the large truck to the left causing her to forward. Luckily, her reflexes were quick enough to prevent her from smashing the already injured man.

"You're going to be okay!" she yelled over the howling wind. His eyes were a mix of terror, pain, and a little bit of hope. She increased the pressure on his wound, causing a howl of protest but she was determined to stop the bleeding. She wanted to look over the top of the truck to see if they were nearing the wall but she didn't want to risk her neck snapping back due to the sheer force of the wind. Good thing the world was over or Merle would definitely be thrown in jail for reckless driving and excessive speeding.

As they continued on, she couldn't help but wonder what The Governor's reaction was going to be to their new guests. Not only had they picked up a seriously injured man but also two women, one of which was an old friend of Merles, at least, that's what he told her. The Governor was the world's greatest actor. To the outside residents, he was the perfect leader; friendly, compassionate, selfless, and pretty much everything you could possibly want. But it was an act. She knew the person behind all the bull shit and he didn't give two shits about anyone but himself. While he may have done some kind things for people, there was always a hidden benefit for him whether they knew it or not.

Relief washed over her when she felt the car slow down and saw Merle stick his head out the window.

"Open the gates you fuckin' morons!" he screamed out.

She assumed he was yelling at the watchers and soon enough they were rolling underneath the wall. Merle immediately sped the car over to their make shift infirmary and hopped out. She hopped over the side of the truck before unlatching the tail gate. Martinez was right next to her, helping her pull the soldier out. She slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled away when Martinez tried to take him from her.

"I got it," she snapped. He gave her a hard look before pursing his lips and stepping back.

Just as she was about to drag him in to the office, her father's voice was right behind her, sending sickly chills up her spine.

"What the hell is this?" he hissed at her, looking the man in her arms up and down.

"Helicopter crash," she told him shortly, "He was the only survivor. He needs help, now."

She glanced behind him at the small crowd of people that had gathered around their truck to see what had caused them to speed into the square. As if sensing the presence of others his face softened and immediately he turned his voice from venomous to soft.

"Get him in there!" he urged, "He needs help!"

She didn't have time to retort to his sudden change of heart. Instead, she turned on her heel and pulled the man into the doctor's place. She vaguely heard Merle begin to tell him of their other guests as she made it into the building. The rushed her into the operation room they had created out of a steel countertop in what looked to be a restaurant at one time. The Doctor was an older man that went by the name of Harold. His assistant was a younger black woman, who was the more stern one of the group.

"We've got two more out in the truck," she told the woman, "They'll need to be looked at."

She knew the woman hated being told what to do but obliged none the less. The doctor began prepping his utensils. She was a nursing student before all this. She was in California finishing up school before all this. She didn't know a lot, but she knew enough to help the Doc out when she could.

"Can you stay and hand me the tools?" Harold asked as he pushed a needle into the man's arm. He hung the bag of morphine on the hook sticking up from the table. They weren't operating long or maybe they were. Her adrenaline had caused the last couple of hours to feel like a blur. She did know he was a live and recovering and that he would more than likely be fine. The first 24 hours were always the most stressful.

She helped the Doc move him into the recovery room, which was just a room full of beds with hooks for morphine. There were no heart monitors or machines like that. The only way to monitor the patients was to watch them yourself and put your hand on their chest. He arms were covered with dry blood and she wanted nothing more than to take a shower but she couldn't bring herself to leave the man's side. She wanted to ask him so many questions. He had been in a helicopter which meant that there were others out there, sophisticated others. He was from an army base which could mean anything; more supplies, more people, and more chances to survive.

It was maybe an hour when he shifted on the bed and his eyes fluttered open. He looked around, panick settling in his features. He went to sit up quickly and immediately growled in pain.

"It's okay," she said gently urging him to lie back down, "You're okay."

He looked at her questionably and she quickly filled him in, "You were in a helicopter crash. We found you and brought you here."

He nodded and looked at her as if to ask about the others. She simply shook her head and grabbed his hand.

"I'm Genevieve," she introduced herself.

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He looked frustrated for a moment before opening his mouth again, this time speaking a name back to her.

"Welles," he croaked.

She smiled, "Nice to meet you."

He gave her what was an attempted smile although it looked somewhat like a grimace. Just as she was about to ease him into questioning, she heard the front door fly open.

"How's our guest doing?" The Governor asked. She turned and saw him and his two cohort's right behind him.

"Recovering," she told him sharply before turning back to the patient. He had shut his eyes once more and she was relieved to know he fell back asleep.

"I think we can take over from here," he said placing his hand on her arm. She jerked it away hard as though his touch burned her skin.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said angrily. She wasn't. She had brought him back, been there in the operating room. She deserved to be the one to question him. She was afraid of what her father might do. She had never seen him do anything bad, but she just always had a feeling that the peoples Governor wasn't all he was cracked up to be.

"Merle," he gestured to his right, "Could you escort my lovely daughter back to her apartment?"

Merle stepped forward with a sloppy grin on his face, "No problem, boss."

He took her arm, a little to firm for her liking, and yanked her away from the bed. She happened to catch the eyes of her secret lover and he looked as though he wanted to deck the both of them right in the moment. God, she would love that. But like the dutiful soldier he was, Martinez stood by The Governor's side without uttering a single word. Of course.

When he got her out the door, she was surprised to see that it had gotten dark and the normally busy town square was completely empty. Another one of her father's rules; no one out after dark. Probably because that's when he roamed in his natural vampire form, she thought to herself.

"Come on, sweet cheeks," Merle pulled her, "Pick up the pace."

She yanked her arm free and stomped away from him. She knew it was childish, but she hated when he drug her along like some dog. HE follower her into the building that held her and her father's respective places and as she opened the door, she felt a small smack on her backside.

"What the fuck?!" she hissed, shoving him against the wall.

He was laughing wildly at her attempt to restrain him. He easily slipped from her grip and she turned, ready to slap him as hard as she could. He caught her hand with his good one and once again gave her his stupid, arrogant Dixon grin.

"Sorry, baby cakes," he cooed at her, "I just figured since you let Martinez have a piece, you might be willing to share with me too."

She stumbled back as though he had struck her in the gut. No, she screamed at herself, he couldn't know! She contemplated just turning and walking in her room but she had to know; if Merle knew, who else did?

"What are you talking about?" she said nonchalantly. She had to pretend she had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe he was bluffing? Yeah, right.

"Relax," he said grabbing her arm as she turned to enter her apartment, "I ain't gonna say anything to the Gov."

"I'd assume so," she said easily, "Since I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."

He scoffed, "Come on, darlin'. I been watchin' him leave your place for the last two weeks. Sometimes I can't sleep so I just wonder 'round. Plus I heard y'all one night. Never woulda pegged you for a screamer."

She knew her cheeks were burning red at this point, especially from that last point he just made. He had heard them?! She didn't get embarrassed much, but she was mortified.

"I-I," she stammered. He shook his head at her.

"Like I was sayin'," he started again, "I won't say nothin'."

"Why?" she asked finally. Her cover was blown so she might as well figure out what he wanted in return for his secrecy.

"'Cause," he shrugged, "I'm gonna need a favor real soon and I gotta have somethin' on you to get it done."

She nodded, "Fine."

"Alright," he nodded as well, "I'm gonna head back. Don't leave here tonight. I don't feel like listenin' to the boss bitch about you all night again."

He turned to walk down the hall but she called his name abruptly. He turned with an eyebrow raised.

"Thanks," she managed to get out.

"Don't go gettin' used to it, baby," he told her, "I won't hesitate to spill the beans if you don't return the favor."

Merle then disappeared as she shut the door and locked the dead bolt. She fumbled around for her lantern, clicking it on so the room became illuminated. Another rule; no excessive lighting after dark. She picked up the light, moving it into her bathroom and setting it on the counter. She pulled the clothing from her body, glad to be released of its muddy and bloody confines. She turned the faucet of the shower to the hottest temperature. She sat on the shower floor just allowing the water to run over her bare skin, washing away the dirt and blood and the events of the day.

She sat and wondered what happened to the two women they picked up. Who were they? Where they alone? What happened to them? She hadn't seen them since they were dropped at the infirmary but she assumed they were probably resting. Her father would be heavily questioning them too, no doubt. The soldier was unfortunate enough to be the first victim. She hoped he was still okay. He seemed to be recovering decently enough when she left and maybe they hadn't bothered him since he was asleep.

And Merle. Jesus, Merle knew about her and Martinez. He was the last person she wanted to find out next to her father. She didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. He needed a favor, is what he had said. What kind of favor would he ever need from her? At this point she didn't care what it was, she was just praying that he kept his mouth shut.

She stood up and finished washing her hair and skin, turning the faucet to off. Stepping out, she towel dried her hair and wiped most of the water from her body. She opted to forget the clothing for tonight and just slip into bed. Having the sheets against her bare skin was refreshing and relaxing all the same. She reached over to her night stand and clicked the lantern off, shutting her eyes. She didn't realize how tired she was but it didn't take long for her body to fade into a dreamless slumber.

It could have been just minutes or hours later when the sounds of a door creaking open awoke her. She was such a light sleeper these days that even the smallest sounds caused her to jolt awake. She stayed still, keeping herself hidden beneath the quilt. Her heart rate slowed down when she felt the other side of the bed move. Caesar.

She felt his hand grip her hip and then travel upwards into her hair where he began stroking gently.

"Gen," he whispered softly into her ear.

She turned over to face him, giving him a small smile. His face wasn't smiling back at her though; it was full of concern and sadness almost.

"What's wrong?" she asked him. He looked up at her and instantly the look was gone.

"Nothing," he reassured her, "I just missed you."

He opened his arms for her to move into and she happily scooted into his warmth. He bent his head to her, silently asking for her kiss. She pecked him on the lips, but he held her where she was. His lips moved sensually over hers, kissing her more passionately than he ever had; the complete opposite of his kiss earlier that day. It didn't take long for the kiss to turn serious and he pulled her onto his lap, the quilt falling to reveal her body to him once more. His hands stayed firmly on her hips as she straddled him. She tugged at the hem of his shirt and he made quick work of getting it over his head. Flipping them over so he hovered above her, his lips remained on hers and she fumbled with his belt before pushing his jeans down. They joined themselves for the hundredth time, exploring and enjoying the feel of each other. It was slow and passionate and she couldn't help but wonder what the sudden change was for.

Once they both reached their peak, he collapsed on top of her and kissed her on the forehead. He stroked her cheek with his hand, staring deeply into her eyes. She knew she should be enjoying this side of him, but she was worried. He had never acted like this and something had to have been bothering him. Before she could ask, he cut her off.

"Gen," he said softly, "I need to tell you something."

She placed her hand over his as he continued to stroke and nodded, urging him to continue.

"I," he stammered, "I love you."

Her heart nearly burst out of her chest at his words. He loved her? She definitely didn't see that coming. Did she love him? She felt something for him, that much was clear but love and her have always been a little on the shaky side. God, something had to be wrong. Why would he say that? Was he dying? Instead of speaking, she just stared at him with wide eyes.

"It's okay," he said, sensing her panic, "You don't have to say it back. I just needed to tell you."

He pulled her into his chest and she laid comfortably on it as his hand traced her back. She felt her eyes grow heavy and her last thought before she fell asleep was I need to question the soldier tomorrow.


Author's Note: I know, I'm like throwing these out while my other story sits un-updated, but I seriously am just writing this so it will get out of my head. Plus I kind of want to get through the back story so we can get to the real story, with Daryl. Thank you all for the reviews, you seriously make my day. Hope you all are enjoying and hopefully this chapter contains the improved Merle. I'm so conflicted on how to write him because he is such an ass yet after his last episode, he's such a good person deep down. THE FEELS!

By the way, yes I put Martinez as a big character because I feel like on the show he is conflicted about his feelings and deep down he's a loving and sweet guy. Not too mention, he's super hot. So yeah. Hopefully you all are enjoying my little side relationship because something tells me it won't last much longer. Maybe he should have kept the I love you to his self ;).

-Liz

P.S If you see any errors, please be awesome and point them out to me so I can go back and fix them. I hate when I re-read this thing like a week later and I catch all kinds of stupid errors. My proofreading skills need work.