**Reworked 12 Nov after posting chapter four as I wasn't happy with the quality of the writing. Italics, with the exception of the occasional bit within proper dialogue, are Merle's inner voice/thoughts.
Servitude
Copyright© D. A. Bathory 2014
Walking Dead characters and universe are not mine, but the original characters, storyline and wording are mine.
Merle/OC pairing. Romance and smut, not necessarily in that order. This was going to be a one-shot, but I figure it's probably going to run to about three or four chapters this size. I loved that in Roxee Rosey's story Something Good Can Work, she wrote Merle as a good man, a worthy man. He rocked in ways I hadn't even considered, and all written beautifully. So she's completely to blame for inspiring me to write some Merle :D If you haven't checked out her story btw, don't miss out, go find it now! Playlist for this song can be found on Youtube. My user name is the same there and the playlist is called servitude.
Songs for this chapter:
Calexico & Marianne Dissard - the Ballad of Cable Hogue
Katie Gray - Set free
Chapter 01
Merle strained against the metal bar, pulling the handcuffs taut with an unending string of screamed curses. It didn't budge no matter how hard he pulled, but unfortunately it was beginning to feel like his hand might. Finally he gave up. He could hear the roll of an engine as the others drove away from the building.
You're gonna pay for this, Officer Friendly, you just see if you don't. Goddamn gutless motherfuckers.
He slumped and tucked his face into the crook of his arm. The heat was making it difficult to keep his thinking straight enough to figure his way out of the cuffs. He muttered to himself for several minutes, only going quiet when he heard a rustle somewhere on the other side of the roof. He'd seen a huge tarpaulin there when they came up onto the roof and assumed it was making the noise. Or rather that the person who'd been hiding behind it was.
He didn't have time to wonder if it was a walker because the steps that came toward him were quick and deliberate. He looked up, squinting to see the face of the person who leaned over him, the sun directly behind their head creating a halo so bright it eclipsed their features. As they stood up, blocking out the glare, he saw a woman in her early thirties with long blonde hair that curled wildly.
Oh look it's the bimbo at the end of the world.
Her figure was obscured by the large, shapeless men's shirt that she wore over baggy shorts, but her legs were lean. She looked at him without speaking, grey eyes inscrutable and unwavering.
"What in hell are you looking at, you dumb whore? Get me out of these." He rattled the cuffs. Her face shifted, looking bored. She rolled her eyes and sighed.
"If I'm a dumb whore what does that make the kind of dickless wonder that goes and gets himself chained to a pipe in walker territory because he can't keep his ignorant mouth shut?" She sounded educated and unafraid.
"I'll show you dickless, just you wait, sugartits. When I get out of these I'll fuck you into the middle of next month." He strained to grab her with his free hand but she stepped coolly out of reach. God-frikken-damnit she has good reflexes.
"Close, but not exactly what I had in mind. And how are you planning on getting out of those?" She followed his gaze and wordlessly kicked the hacksaw twenty feet away.
"You bitch. You godless fucking cooze, what in hell did you do that for?" He pummelled his feet impotently against the roof beneath him.
"I just wanted to see the look on your face. And I imagined it might interrupt your natural eloquence with a moment of blessed silence." Damned if that little crooked smile didn't go straight to his dick.
"My whut?" He frowned. He thought he may have just been insulted for the second time but he couldn't be sure.
"Your verbal dexterity, Mr…?"
"Dixon. Merle Dixon," he chuffed belligerently.
"Well, Merle - can I call you Merle? - you certainly have a way with words. So far you've managed to point out that I'm female, complimented my breasts - which are spectacular by the way, and called me an atheist. All of which are correct. The only errors you made were assuming that I'm of low intelligence and get paid for sex. I earned my PhD shortly before things went to complete and utter fuck, and, honey, whores do it for money; I do it because I like it."
"You think you're so fucking smart." He grumbled, not looking at her.
"So does MIT." He could hear her amusement.
"Well brains'll only git you so far in this new world of ours. What were you doing up here anyw…wait…what do you mean 'close'?" Let me the fuck out of these and I'll get close alright.
She only raised an eyebrow and looked away.
"You said 'close' when I said I'd fuck you into the middle of next month. What did you mean by 'close'?" He wasn't sure whether to feel confused or turned on or pissed off so he settled for all three.
"I was looking for something, but really, I don't think you're suitable." She shook her head in disappointment, or maybe remorse; he couldn't tell which.
"Why in hell not?" He was suddenly a lot more curious about his perceived failings than finding out what she was looking for.
"I was looking for someone with a little more…civility. Pretty much the opposite of everything I've heard out of your mouth since you and your friends came up on the roof. And honestly, I don't think you would physically be able to do what I want." He took a moment to digest the second part. It was either a third insult or an honest assumption.
"Why?" She didn't answer him straight away but squatted down on her haunches, bringing her face closer to look at him in earnest. What in hell do you want, sugartits, just tell me and…oh that's nice, keep doing that. He felt soft fingertips tracing the frown lines on his forehead, before the backs of those same fingertips rubbed roughly over the fine stubble on his jaw.
"Because what I want demands a level of understanding and experience. And I don't think you've ever been kissed." She stood up straight at his shocked indrawn breath.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he roared. "I've kissed hundreds of women. I ain't some kinda backwoods virgin fer Christ's sake."
"Exactly." The crooked smile was back and she held his gaze when she spoke again. "You've kissed women. But I'd bet my right arm you've never been kissed. Sweet and tender, slow and yearning, like you're the only thing filling her heart every waking moment." She placed her hand flat on his chest directly over his heart.
Want.
"Like she'd ache with missing you if she so much as walked into the next room. Like she could see you, beat and angry, weary to the bone with everything you feel written on your face and still see the best man she's ever known." He was ashamed of the noise of absolute longing that left his throat.
"That's not real." He shook his head.
"It is." She said softly.
She knelt back down closer front of him and palmed his cheek in one hand. His eyes closed involuntarily and something in his chest all of a sudden felt far too big. Oh God, what if she's right?
"I think you talk to women the way you do because you don't like yourself very much, and if you'd ever had what I just described that wouldn't be the case. If you'd ever had that there'd be some part of you that knew you were worth something, and that a woman could be worth something, too. That's the knowledge I need, that's what makes you imperfect for what I want." Standing, she tilted her head accusingly.
Lady, there ain't a single sorrowful bastard on this green Earth that ain't as imperfect as it's possible to be.
"You never did say what that was." He was sulking. Even not knowing what it was, he didn't like the idea that she found him wanting, or that she'd managed to infer so accurately what he himself had always been denied.
"No I didn't. It's pointless. I'll keep looking. Maybe one of the men who were here earlier would do." She snorted delicately at the thought.
Ha. I'd like to see Officer Friendly's face if she tried. Lousy fucker'd run a mile. Wouldn't know what the hell to do with a real woman, one with fire in her.
"Are you gonna leave me here like this?" He looked up at her, defiant. I ain't gonna beg. I ain't gonna beg.
"I haven't decided yet." She hunkered down on the ground, just far enough that he couldn't grab or kick her. "Figure you're likely to try and hurt me because you can't get at the ones who left you like this."
"I won't hurt ya." He actually managed to feel as offended as he sounded.
"I said you'd try not that you'd succeed." She smirked.
"Whatever. It's gonna bug me not knowing what you're looking for now. Especially as you so kindly pointed out, several times I might add, how incapable I am of being of any use to you." He sneered the last few words but was genuinely curious.
"Company." She said quietly after a moment.
"Is that it? Just company?" he chuckled.
"No. Not just company." She answered with a direct, unwavering gaze.
He burst into gales of laughter, loud and hearty.
"You wanna get fucked?" he asked between chuckles. What're you waiting for, honey; let me out and we'll get started.
"No." Her tone was icy and cut him off short. She stood again and walked to the edge of the roof, leaning on and looking over the short wall at the streets below. With a shrug she turned back to him.
"Love doesn't live here anymore." She gestured behind her with one hand, a finger circling briefly in the air to indicate that she meant a whole lot more than just the street below or even the whole city.
"Yes it does. I've seen it." Judging from her expression, this was the first thing he'd uttered that had not just surprised but downright shocked her. Just coz I talk slow, honey, don't mean I'm stupid. He saw a flash of grudging respect cross her face. But she shook her head anyway.
"Things aren't the same as they were, probably never will be again." She came closer again and sat within reach this time, but he made no move to touch her. "I'm planning on making my way up to Canada, to the wilderness, make a life for myself there."
"Alone?" She nodded. So she has balls, so what?
"I don't know whether I'll see people again or not after this place. I wanted one last day of feeling human. So I was looking for someone who'd give me that. I have things I could barter in exchange for their time and…the other stuff."
Barter? Do you like chicken? Coz I got a nice big co- wait…what kinda stuff?
"Other stuff? You mean fu-uh-physical stuff?" She raised an eyebrow at his close save.
"I mean I want one day of being treated like I'm the only woman in the world. Which is ironic as once I reach the wilderness it'll feel like it. I want to feel cared for before I leave, and I want to leave having been so well made love to that it'll last me a lifetime." Her eyes never left his.
He could see in the set of her mouth that she was serious and gulped.
She honestly thinks she'd have to pay some guy to treat her good and fuck her gently? And she's lecturing me on self worth. Jesus.
"I can be nice." He said fervently. She gaped at him in disbelief.
You and me both, sweetheart. Not sure where in fuck that came from but it's out there for God and all his monkeys to see now so let's run with it.
"Can you? Can you control your mouth and actually be a person for twenty-four hours? From sun-up to sun-up? I don't think so." She looked away from him then, but he heard the uncertainty in her tone.
"I can. I can be nice. Let me out and I'll show you." He ignored the fact that it sounded like he was begging and chose to say something he hadn't said since he was eight years old. "Please."
That had an effect alright. She went completely still. He could see the wheels turning in her head. He didn't want those wheels to stop so he kept talking.
"Let me show you. If you're not satisfied with my efforts you can…you can tie me to a tree." She burst out laughing. Well fuck you very much.
"Jesus, woman, there's no need to humiliate me further by laughing at me. I'm already chained to a pipe like a goddamned dog," he grumbled. She ignored him and stood, walking away with her eyes on the ground.
"Where is it?" she asked without bothering to look at him.
"Where's what?"
How in hell am I supposed to know if you don't tell me? Know a lot of psychic rednecks do you?
"The key." His mouth went dry. She meant to let him out. That's the only thing she could mean. But was she just letting him go so she wouldn't have his death on her conscience or was she going to accept him for her…bargain?
"It's…uh…it fell down that drain cover over there." He jerked his head toward the metal grate. "It's probably gone."
"No, it's there. I just need to get at it."
"That's gonna be hard. It only has the thinnest little bit of wire hanging off it. Can you make something into a hook?" Please let there be something please let there be something.
"I can go one better." She unbuttoned part way down her shirt and pulled it over her head. The figure that was revealed had him standing to attention in two seconds flat. Wide hips, a little waist and narrow ribcage encased in just a thin vest were topped by… Oh sweet God in Heaven. As she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, freeing the most heavenly pair of large, natural breasts he'd ever laid eyes on, he audibly groaned. She'd joked that they were spectacular but they deserved to be worshipped.
She pulled the bra out from under her vest and fiddled with the clasp, bending the little hooks out a bit, then started fishing through the grate. Every movement of her arm made her jiggle, which was pure torture to poor Merle. He occupied himself by hitting the back of his head repeatedly against the pipe to which he was chained. Minutes later she reappeared.
"Oh COME ON!" he protested as the most perfect breasts in the world were brought close to his face as she leaned over him.
You're killing me here, darlin'.
"Eyes up here, soldier." She chuckled, waving the shiny little key to and fro in his line of sight, although her own gaze drifted South, taking on an appreciative look when they came to rest on the front of his pants.
"Eyes up here, soldier." It was Merle's turn to smirk. If she decided on taking him up on his offer, he at least knew he'd be able to satisfy the last part of her wish. He was very big and he knew it; she'd remember him for a lifetime, no doubt. He took the opportunity to whip the key out from between her fingers. As he put it into the hole in the handcuffs she stayed his hand with her own.
"Wait." He stilled and waited, watching her eyes flicker between his own as she came to a decision. "Twenty-four hours. From sunrise tomorrow to sunrise the next day." Yes. Yesyesyes. He nodded and went to unlock the cuffs but she still held his hand still. She cleared her throat. "There's still the matter of your…inexperience in certain areas."
Merle removed the key from the lock and pushed it into his pants' pocket. He waited. Half of him wanted to sneer at her, tell her she was stupid for trusting him and laugh as he walked away from her. But another part of him, deep and previously unknown, keened at the thought of putting distance between them. So he remained motionless, waiting to see what she'd do.
She turned her head away from him for almost a full minute, not speaking, not making any sound at all. When she looked back at him he saw something in her expression that took his breath away, something very close to respect and admiration, affection and longing. No woman had ever, ever looked at him, Merle Dixon, like that before.
She leaned forward, bringing her hand to his cheek like before, and brushed her lips against his so softly he could hardly feel it, her eyelids fluttering closed. His fingers wove into her thick hair without him even realising he had moved his free hand. She pressed her lips against his harder, and he opened his mouth against hers, letting her deepen the kiss into something so sweet that it bypassed all of his usual responses. For the first time, he was taking part in a kiss that had gone straight to his heart instead of his dick. And it scared him.
"Merle." She murmured his name reverently as she broke the kiss, leaning her forehead against his for a few seconds, her eyes still shut. He was glad, he needed those moments to find his way back to himself. But not all the way back. She'd been right. He knew something now that he hadn't before, and he somehow felt bigger for it. When she opened her eyes the expression that had jarred him so was gone, replaced by her previous surety and businesslike detachment.
"Go ahead and open them. And feel free to go back to being an asshole for the rest of the day. Sunrise tomorrow, though, not a word out of character until the next morning." She stood and stepped backwards, away from him. He thought a moment before fishing the key out of his pocket and making short work of the cuffs.
About fucking time.
Standing had never felt so good. He stretched every single muscle in his body, completely oblivious of his audience. When he finished cracking his neck he saw that she hadn't moved, but he couldn't figure out what was going on in her head, or why her shoulders were slumped.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" he asked.
"Half expected you to just walk the other way and toss an insult over your shoulder." Oh hell no. Now that pissed him off. He took two long strides and got right in her face. To her credit, she didn't flinch.
"I don't welch on deals. That there was as good as a handshake and I intend to keep my side of the bargain. I've no intention of minding my language tonight but I'll try to keep a lid on the insults. For now." Her body visibly relaxed. "And if you don't want anything kicking off early I suggest you put the damn shirt back on again."
He turned and walked to the door, which he opened and held, looking back to her. "Well, woman? Are you coming? Coz I don't have the slightest goddamned idea where we're going." She fumbled her bra and shirt back on hurriedly - hey no rush, honey - and walked over to look him right in the eye.
"I have a name, you know." She looked like she half expected him to laugh at her again.
"Well, what is it?" he asked, exasperated.
"Do you actually give a shit what it is?" Oh she's sassy, this one.
"Not really. No." She had given him permission to go back to being an asshole for the rest of the night after all.
"Well then I'm not telling you what it is." She shoved past him and strode through the door, hopping down the steps. He followed.