Daryl sat in a tiny waiting room and tapped his foot nervously while he straightened his shirt for the tenth time. Last night his friend Jim had insisted that he should wear "something smart" to his interview as he had thrust some trousers and a pale blue shirt into his hands. The borrowed clothes fit him awkwardly. Jim was lean and about half a foot taller than Daryl and where the trousers bunched at his ankles the shirt was painted to his skin.
"Daryl Dixon I presume?"
"Yes Sir."
"My names Philip Blake," the tall man held out his hand and Daryl stood up to shake it. "Jim Fulton has done a lot of contracting work for the museum so you come…" he looked Daryl up and down, "recommended."
Daryl gave the man a small one sided smile and tried to hold in the gruff grunt that he usually used in response as he followed the man into his office. He took a seat across from Philip's large ornate desk and sank deep into the well-worn leather. He began to question why he accepted Jim's offer to arrange this job interview. Already he felt like he didn't belong in this stuffy old museum.
Philip poured them both a glass of water and settled down to grill him. It took less than five minutes to go over Daryl's previous work history and any relevant work experience, of which there was none. He'd had the odd job as a mechanic and Jim had hired him to help in his small construction business but he'd never had anything steady. Just part time work to tide him over while his dumb as shit big brother served time or when he needed to make repairs to his truck.
Last week he'd got in a huge fight with Merle and decided enough was enough. Daryl finally realised that he wasn't like his brother. He was getting too old to spend the rest of his life drifting around and being one of those asshole's that people crossed the street to avoid. So he'd packed his handful of belongings into a trash bag and headed over to his friend's house to sleep in his shoebox sized spare room and make a fresh start.
"Like I say, Jim recommended you and I trust the man so I'm happy to offer you the position now. But I'm going to need your answer right away because we have a very important collection of artefacts travelling here next week and I need to make sure this position is filled."
Daryl had no other options. He didn't want to spend too long imposing on Jim and his girlfriend Charlene so he accepted the position. Philip, or Mr Blake, as he had asked Daryl to call him introduced him to the other security guards, "Rick and Shane," who were to show him the ropes of his new job and organise him a uniform.
A uniform, Daryl almost choked as he took in the black trousers, white shirt, black tie and ridiculous looking black hat that completed the rent a cop outfit as worn by his new co-workers. Part of him wanted to back out right there and then but money was money and this job would tide him over until he found something more suitable.
He spent the next several hours looking around all the exhibits, signing countless forms and going over his duties and his new rota. By the time Mr Blake said he could go he practically ran back to his truck, lit a cigarette and high tailed it back to Jim's in a way that made him feel like he was 14 years old and finishing school for the summer.
Daryl squeezed his truck in to the awkward third spot onto Jim's driveway that was only meant for two and cringed again at the idea of imposing on his oldest friend. Not that Jim or Charlene would have ever thought of it that way, they were good people, better than he deserved when he thought of the illegal shit he'd got up to with his brother over the past few years.
Daryl kicked open the front door with his arm full of his new uniform to find Charlene standing in the kitchen blaring country music and cooking up a storm like she always did.
"Jim's out back hun," she called to him over the radio as he dumped the clothes on the single bed in in his tiny room then grabbed a beer out of the fridge and made his way to find his friend.
"I got the job," Daryl rasped as the screen door shut softly behind him and he took a seat next to Jim.
His friend rubbed his think beard and adjusted his cap with a grin, "great… now all ya need to do is find a house and a nice girl… Charlene's always bangin' on 'bout goin' on double dates."
"Ya know you've got the only good one round 'ere," Daryl took a sip of beer, sank back into the chair and stretched his legs. The last thing he needed was some woman nagging him and making him crazy. Although he did envy Jim of Char's cooking. The food she whipped up was enough to make him think of imposing on their little house forever. In Daryl's mind Charlene was as close to the ideal girl as a redneck such as himself could imagine. She was a good cook and she could hunt and fish better than Jim could.
One week later…
Kate pulled into the car park of the museum and noted the lack of other cars aside from her shiny red Mustang and a dirty blue truck. But she was extra early this morning to get a head start on setting up the exhibition. She flicked through the set of keys which Philip Blake had given her yesterday on her brief first visit to the museum. Eventually she found the one that opened the door of the staff entrance and pushed it open.
Philp, who was head curator of the museum had seemed a pleasant enough man to work with for the next eight weeks but like everyone else she had met whilst being in the states for the past year Kate had no plans of forming any sort of friendships. All she wanted to do was focus on her job, fade into the background and pretend for Lou that she was moving on.
Kate found the little office that was to be her and Lou's for their duration here. It was small and only had one desk but it wasn't too bad. She didn't really need an office anyway, except maybe as a space to store her new Mulberry handbag which had been a 29th birthday present to herself.
She pulled her box of teabags and favourite mug from her handbag before throwing it onto the leather chair that was in the corner of the office and heading out to see if she could remember where the break room was. She made a cup of tea, one sugar, dash of milk, then checked her watch. Lou would be here soon.
In the east wing of the museum stood the huge room filled with empty display cases and in the centre were all the crates. Kate found the light switch to illuminate the parquet floor, mahogany display cases, brass lights and a vaulted ceiling. She liked old museums like this; they felt more appropriate than some of the newer spaces they had displayed the collection of medieval weaponry in.
In a way she was almost glad that Louis was running late since he always complained about the unpacking and setting up of the exhibition whereas Kate actually enjoyed this part. It was the calm before the storm. No people to talk to, no guided tours, just quiet work for a couple of days. She enjoyed pulling on the nitrile gloves and handling the artefacts. Feeling the weight of the weapons in her hand and imagining what it would be like to use it. She had already chosen her perfect sword long ago and always unpacked that one first. Sometimes, if no one was looking, she would pull it from the crate and swing it through the air in a satisfying motion for which it was forged.
Kate drank the last of her cup of tea as she finished inspecting the display cases and checking that they correlated with the plan she had drawn up based on dimensions Philip had sent her a couple of weeks ago. The cases were all already unlocked as she had requested yesterday and now there was nothing more to do but run her empty mug back to the break room and get started.
She picked up the crowbar that was resting on top of one of the crates and used it to pry the lid open. It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Kate managed to work the nails free and the lid fell to the floor with a loud clatter that echoed around the room. There was something eerie about making a loud noise in absolute silence and the feeling always made the hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. She laughed at her own fright which was probably a product of too many Stephen King novels and pulled on some gloves. As she began to reach into the crate the sound of something metal hitting the floor elsewhere in the museum caught her attention.
"Hello?" Kate called out and checked her watch. Lou should have been here twenty minutes ago and she wondered if it was him. Or maybe it was a monster (if she believed in that sort of thing).
/
Daryl had fallen from his chair with a huge, painful bang. He'd been working the first night shift of his new job and had promised himself that he would 'just rest his eyes' but as he looked at his watch he realised that promise had been made over two hours ago. Some fucking security guard I am, he decided as he rubbed his head and heard a woman's voice calling out, "is there somebody there?"
He suddenly remembered the huge stack of crates that had arrived last night and Mr Blake telling him that "the two brits are starting their first full day tomorrow… everyone must be on their best behaviour."
Daryl groaned, rolled his shoulders and rubbed his eyes as he moved towards the woman and the clatter of high heels. He rounded a corner at the same time she did and they collided giving him a lung full of expensive perfume and a face full of chocolate brown hair. "Shit," she went flying but he managed to grab hold of her arm before she hit the floor.
"Sorry ma'am," he rasped as he pulled her upright. She wasn't what he had expected. He'd expected old and frumpy. He looked at the point where he was still holding onto her arm and let his hand fall away.
"You ought to watch where you're going," she scolded him, jabbing her finger in his face like she was the fucking queen. "You could have broken my bloody neck charging around like that."
Daryl was momentarily stunned. He hardly knew what to say since he never usually got squared up to by uppity women who were half his size. What must have been seconds of silence felt like a thousand years before the sound of a door opening and shutting caught their attention.
"Morning Lass," a man's thick accent called out.
Daryl turned to look at the speaker as 'Miss Uppity' glided past, her bright blue chiffon dress swishing lightly with every step as she chimed, "good morning Lou," and embraced the old man.
Daryl began to back away. Fancy book learning people like this made him feel more stupid than ever. That was one thing he had realised the past week while working here.
"Don't move so fast young man, we may need a hand with the crates," Lou called and Daryl hesitated and looked over his shoulder, he couldn't remember the last time someone had called him 'young'. But he supposed to the older man with white hair and a cane that he was practically a spring chicken. "What's your name son?"
"Daryl Dixon."
"I'm Louis and this is Kate," he smiled kindly and Daryl got the feeling that Louis wasn't the sort of man to make anyone feel stupid.
"Ms Ashwood," the brunette corrected as she turned around and gave him a slow once over. Goddamn, those big brown eyes of hers were half turning him to ice with their hard stare. Still, he found he couldn't look away.
"Well lass? Get a move on, we can't stand here all day," Lou gestured his cane towards the exhibition hall and Kate's eyes softened as they fluttered from Daryl's to the older mans.
Kate gave Louis a rundown of where she thought everything should go and Daryl couldn't help staring as he hung on to every word that rolled hypnotically from her lips. Jesus, that accent was something else. She caught his slack jawed gaping and he felt his cheeks burning as he moved to the other side of the room and out of sight. He couldn't remember the last time he'd blushed. As a rule Dixon's didn't fucking blush.
He regained some modicum of composure before he peered around a display case to see her bending over to pick up a crowbar. Kate's dress skirted up her smooth legs and Daryl found his head tilting to take in the view before he shrunk back and thought better of it. Get a fucking grip, he told himself but all he wanted to do was go sit behind the safety of his little desk and hide.
Louis had other ideas. "Would you come give us a hand son?" he shouted.
"I'm perfectly fine on my own," Kate insisted as he approached them both. But from the expression on her face and the light grunt that fell from her mouth he could see she was struggling. He crossed his arms and looked to Louis who just shrugged with a bemused smile. Was the old man expecting him to snatch the crowbar off the woman or what? He looked between them both and if he had to choose between the two he decided that Miss Uppity would probably be the one most likely to give him a verbal ass whooping. With that in mind he let her do her own thing and merely watched.
/
The lid finally succumbed to the pressure and fell to the floor in a triumphant clatter. Sometimes Lou was so old fashioned. He always volunteered men to help her like she was some useless little damsel and as much as she loved him she hated him for it. The last thing she needed was some man to swoop to her assistance. She peered behind her to the security guard who was in conversation with Louis. Her friend could talk the back legs off a bloody donkey and was always quick to make friends.
Kate ignored the intense blue stare that Daryl flashed her way and pulled on a second pair of gloves. She was about to reach in to a crate to pick up her sword when she noticed Mr Dixon reaching his dirty hands into another crate.
"What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed and stormed over to bat his hand away from the medieval crossbow. "You can look but you most certainly cannot touch."
/
Jesus Christ, Daryl wanted to ask her who had shoved the stick up her ass but didn't think it would be worth the risk since she had plenty of weapons to hand and was looking at him with nothing but contempt. "Sorry ma'am," he said to her for the second time since they had met.
Kate flicked her hair over her shoulder with a "humph," before she spun on her heel to walk away from him. He'd never met such a goddamn bossy woman, he felt like he was back at school. Except if any of his teachers would have been sashaying around in a dress like she was wearing he would have never dropped out.
"Flipping heck lass he only wants a gander. You like the crossbow son?" Lou smiled warmly as he pulled on his gloves.
"I have my own crossbow, I like to go huntin' when I can," Daryl admired the wooden weapon that the man picked up from the crate. It wasn't too dissimilar to his own despite the fact that it was obviously very old.
"A man after my own heart. I have my own private collection of bows back home, I even brought one with me… and it's a pretty one… 17th century, polished silver hardware, carved wood."
Kate took the medieval bow that Lou was showing Daryl while the man continued, "maybe we can go shooting before we're done here and you can have a play with her. I don't get her out as much as I used to and it's such a waste."
Daryl knew Lou was talking about his crossbow but he couldn't help the laugh that escaped his mouth as he looked at Miss Uppity. Then he considered the idea of taking the old man hunting with him and almost said no. Spending his free time with perfect strangers wasn't exactly his style but there was something about the man that reminded him of his late grandfather and he found himself saying, "sounds good." Why not take him? Jim was always saying he should be more sociable although he suspected that his friend was referring to dating women, not hunting with men older than his father.
"What do you think Katy? Have a real shoot…" Louis grinned as he clapped his hands together with enthusiasm.
"I don't think running through the forest like a wild man is very good for your knee," Miss Uppity never took her eyes away from the meticulous way she was resting the crossbow onto its little wooden stand. Daryl couldn't stop looking at her with the same precision, from the way her brow was furrowed in concentration to the way she stood on the tips of her toes in her ridiculously high heels.
"Ya'll sound so different," Daryl thought out loud when Miss Uppity was out of ear shot.
"Aye. I'm from Yorkshire, and she speaks the queens," Lou passed Daryl the crowbar and he opened up the rest of the crates before Miss Uppity had a chance to catch him and scold him again. Not that he would have particularly minded, there was something about this woman shouting at him that he almost liked. Maybe it was just that he had spent the night alone and it was nice to actually interact with people as opposed to staring at the CCTV monitor and rationing his cigarettes.
Soon the sound of other people began to fill the museum and he knew that his shift was over as he stifled a yawn. "I'm done for the day…"
"Nice meeting you," Louis said. He smiled and shook Daryl's hand. Lou was what his mama would have called 'good people' and he already liked him.
Kate was the kind of woman he would usually avoid; haughty, demanding, too pretty for her own damn good. She caught his eye as he made to leave and he swallowed down the dry feeling that suddenly chocked him. "Nice to meet ya Miss…" Uppity, he almost said it before he cleared his throat and remembered, "Ashwood."
"Good day Mr Dixon," she replied coolly with one cocked eyebrow and went back to looking at her notes.
Jesus, he pulled his hat off his head and backed away towards the security office. It was going to be a long eight weeks.