This is a TWD fanfic based in an AU, non Zombie world. I am using the same character as my Fanfic "Backroads". She has a slightly different backstory but will have similar characteristics. I didn't want to rely on using the exact same life experiences so I altered this story a little. I Do Not own the TWD characters or story lines.

This Story contains Adult situations, Foul Language, and Smut. Rated MA

Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old.

Please Enjoy! Favorite, Follow, Review and pass along!

Also checkout my TWD world fanfic "Backroads" featuring Daryl/OC

I will be updating both as frequently as I can.

Jameson O'Connell had been tending bar at the Dale's for years. Located in a tiny town situated between three local colleges, the bar was frequented by frat boys and their tanned girlfriends. However being in a tiny town, the bar also attracted the locals who were rednecks through and through. The occasional fight broke out but mostly they avoided each other. The weekends were predominantly college kids while the locals frequented during the weekdays. The problems happened when someone strayed from their unofficial designated day.

It was Thursday evening. The bar was packed with locals; hunters, bikers, truck drivers; blue-collar workers and their old ladies. When the door opened and three frat boys and their arm candy walked in Jameson knew the evening was going to either be interesting or disastrous.

They took a couple high tops by the pool tables. Jameson felt the room's attitude change. No one else may have but she watched people and talked to people all day. There was a ripple of tension, a flexing of arms, clenching of fists and straightening of backs, a domino effect of stress moving through the room. Sasha went to their table to get drink orders and brought back a ticket for two pitchers of pale ale and dozen shots of jäger.

'Great now shit faced frat boys on a Thursday night' Jameson thought.

Jameson helped other patrons but kept a close eye on the party of six. Jameson also watched the men in the room that would most likely cause trouble with the college kids. The closest to the group of six was Merle Dixon. His brother Daryl and him were playing pool. Merle was a constant shit talker. He talked non-stop about anything and he had no filter. He hated everyone who wasn't white and disliked everyone else. His little brother, if you can call a man in his late 30's little, was more reserved. Jameson had heard maybe a handful of words from him in the course of five years. He only involved himself if it meant keeping Merle out of trouble and out of jail. They weren't exactly regulars. They stopped in every few months when Merle brought them into town to meet up with his drug connections.

Merle started hitting on one of the frat boy's girlfriends around 11pm. It started out as obscene gestures and catcalls until it spiraled into an all out brawl by midnight. Dale's had one security guy who worked Thursday through Sunday. Shane decided to skip work that night to hook up with Andrea, the local waitress at the Waffle House. Jameson grabbed Sasha, pulled her behind the bar and told her to call the cops. Jameson then palmed the baseball bat from under the counter and marched over, weaving through the crowd. She pushed her way through and found Merle choking a frat boy, while the other two ganged up on Daryl. Jameson walked up to the game room and swung the aluminum baseball bat, slamming it five times on the metal pole. The hits vibrating up her arms. The deafening banging sound acted like a boxing ring bell, everyone stopped what they were doing. They all covered their ears, shocked at the ear piercing sound. Even the crowd stopped cheering and shut up.

Jameson yelled at the top of her lungs, "Cut It…The Fuck…...Out!"

"Everyone back away from each other. Now!" She hollered pointing the baseball bat at the group of men. "You three get your girls, pay your tab and get out."

One college kid started to complain and Jameson slammed the bat against the pole again. "I said get yer shit 'n get out!" She said loudly. "Don't make me embarrass ya in front of your girls." The guy puffed up his chest and grabbed his girl's arm roughly, pulling her along.

She pointed the bat at Merle's chest, "Merle you apologize to the ladies."

Merle scrunched up his face is disgust. "Ain't apologizin' to no whores," he snarled, spitting on the floor

Jameson growled at him. "Apologize. Now." Jabbing the end of the bat into his chest.

Merle pushed the bat away, squinted at her and grunted a quick, "Sorry."

"Good. Let 'em through folks." She yelled while directing the kids to pay for their tab. Jameson turned around and pointed the bat at the Dixon brothers. "You two fuckers get to clean this shit up. Broom's in the closet." She said with a grin, waving her hand over the mess of upturned stools and broken glasses.

"Not cleanin' shit, Bitch. Ya think you can tell me whata do?!" Merle raged pushing another chair over. "Merle Shuddup." Daryl grunted pulling on his brother's arm.

Jameson turned around, baseball bat resting on her shoulder and her other hand on her hip. "If you want to ever drink here again Merle, you will clean up your mess. If ya don't you can pay your tab and fuck off." She turned on her heel and returned to the bar. She walked the college kids out and saw the cop car pulling up. Sherriff Deputy Grimes slide out of his patrol car and watched the college kids hop in their huge truck.

"Ya havin problems Jameson?" he asked jutting his chin toward the group.

"Had a little trouble. Nothin' I couldn't handle. Called for back up just in case. Sorry to bother you." She said with a smile. "Can you just make sure they don't come back in?"

"No worries. Where's Shane? Why'd he not help?" Grimes asked.

"He called in," she said with a wry smile. "I'm sure Andrea's sick too."

Rick rubbed his neck while looking at the ground, casually resting his hand on his revolver. "I'll talk ta him 'bout being more responsible." He said, looking up at her. "He shouldn' leave ya here by ya'self."

"Don't worry about it Grimes. I'm good. Gotta get back though. Thanks for coming by." She said with a grin and small wave. Rick stayed for a few minutes and made sure there weren't any other disturbances before he drove off to patrol.

Jameson glanced up several minutes later and saw Daryl up righting barstools while Merle bitched and moaned at him. She heard the word 'pussy' and the phrase 'lil bitch' countless times out of Merle's fat mouth. She saw Daryl hollering at him, pushing a broom in his hand. Jameson smirked as she saw Merle using a broom. Pulling two beers from the tap, Jameson called Sasha over and pushed the foamy glasses to her, "Take these to the Dixons, Tell 'em thanks for kicking the frat boy's ass's but to avoiding doing it here ever again."

The evening passed without any other arguments and Jameson was the last to leave like always. Jameson stepped out back, locked the door and walked onto the potholed back parking lot. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes out, Jameson light up her last smoke. Inhaling deeply she heard a throat clear. She turned and saw Daryl leaning against his motorcycle.

"Shouldn' be out alone like this," he remarked gruffly, his arms crossed.

Jameson turned and opened her jacket, showing him the handgun hanging from its leather holster. "Not alone. I got my girl with me." She said while exhaling a cloud of pale smoke.

He squinted at her, "Ya even know how ta use that thing?"

"No, I thought I'd just throw it my attacker." She deadpanned, flicking ashes.

The corner of his mouth lifted but disappears as fast as it appeared. "Pfft."

"Why ya creepin' around out here Dixon?" Jameson asked, taking another drag.

"Merle's got comp'ny." He responded without looking at her, chewing on his thumbnail.

Jameson nodded but knew he could have been waiting anywhere for his brother to finish up banging whatever sucker he got to sleep with him. There was something else Daryl wanted and the reason he was hanging out in a dark parking behind the bar.

"Ok. So why ya really hanging out here?" she asked again, dropping her cigarette butt, grinding the ball of her foot on it.

Daryl just grunted and looked away before he answered, "Jus' checkin that those fuckers didn' come back, cause trouble with ya." He looked back at her through the fringe of hair hanging in his eyes, chewing on his lip. Jameson nodded and pulled her keys out of her jacket pocket.

"Well thanks but I got it. I can take care of myself." She said to him while walking to her beater.

Daryl grunted and huffed out a breath. "Don' gotta be a bitch. Jus tryin' ta help ya."

Jameson stopped and turned back, "Not bein' a bitch. Just sayin' don't worry yourself over me. I got it." She pulled the creaking door open and slid into her ancient car, turning it over and letting it warm up. Daryl stayed leaning against his bike until she pulled out of the tiny parking lot.

"Crazy woman" he muttered as he watched her taillights disappear.