Author's Note: My first foray into the TWD fandom, and all I have to offer is fluff, GAH. I guess it's kinda what I do best. Anyhow, this goes a bit AU, in that it borrows ideas from both the show and the comics and blends them into my own magical zombie world of whimsy. The story I've got going is that the group has moved on, leaving Glenn behind with the Greenes. They've been on the farm alone for at least a year now, in which time Maggie and Glenn have had a little girl. I don't know where the group went and I don't know what's happened between then and now. But I heard a song and I let it inspire me, and I hope you all don't hate me too much when it's all over.

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing and I would never pretend that I did.

Country Music

The baby softly whimpered for a moment, before her face scrunched up and she went back to wailing like a banshee. "All right, don't panic," Glenn said, the look on his face giving away his rising terror.

"There's a herd coming our way and our baby girl won't stop screaming," Maggie reminded him. Her knuckles were turning white as she grasped the edge of the bassinet. Her eyes were wide with anxiety. "I've tried everything, but she won't settle down. We're gonna have every walker in a couple miles all over this place if we can't get her to keep quiet. What do you suggest we do?"

"Just…don't panic." Glenn took a short breath, then leaned over and scooped up the baby.

"I tried that," Maggie said.

He started bouncing her around the room, which only made her scream louder. He spun in lazy circles, which only seemed to make her uncomfortable. He held the baby closer and tried humming something nonsensical, then one of the lullabies that usually did the trick.

Maggie sighed. "I tried that, too."

"Well, maybe," Glenn replied, teeth gritted and a fake smile on his face, "she just wanted to see her daddy."

"And maybe Daddy is just making things worse."

Glenn had to admit that the screaming had definitely risen a few decibels since he'd picked up his daughter. Gently, cooing and making faces as they went, he placed the baby back in her blankets and simply stood, staring down at her. "Katie, Katie, Katie," he sing-songed, "why won't you sleep?"

She waved her arms at him, but the crying didn't stop. Maggie rubbed a hand over her forehead. "I've tried every song I can think of," she noted, ticking it off on her fingers. "I walked around the room. I fed her. I tried changing her, but she didn't need it. I opened the window, I closed it again, I read to her, I rocked her, I danced around with her like an idiot…"

"Katie, you're a brave girl," Glenn started singing, hardly audible over the wails of the unsatisfied baby.

"I tried that."

Glenn stood up straight and looked over at Maggie. "So what else do we have to try?" They thought about it for a moment, then Glenn snapped his fingers and smiled. "I'll get the guitar."

"I don't think she wants the guitar," Maggie replied doubtfully, but Glenn had already gone to their room and returned. He strummed a few chords, trying out the choruses of a few different songs, but nothing could quiet the baby. But she wasn't crying as much now, either because she liked the music a little or because she was tiring herself out. An idea struck Maggie. "Keep trying," she said to Glenn, hurrying out into the hall and down the stairs.

Jimmy and Beth were just outside, helping Hershel board up the windows on the lower levels. Even outside on the porch, you could hear the baby upstairs, screaming into the beautiful autumn day. The air was clear, without wind, and the baby's cries pierced clear through to the clouds high overhead. There didn't seem to be any sign of the walkers they'd spotted a few days ago, but, at last check, they'd been heading this way. They had to keep quiet and get the farm ready to defend if they were going to survive this. They had to figure out how to quiet down a fussy seven-month-old.

Maggie tapped Jimmy and asked, "Do you still have your fiddle?"

Jimmy blinked, struck dumb. When he'd processed the request, he nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure…somewhere. I brought it over with the rest of my things when I came here."

"Can you find it?"

"It might take a little while."

"Find it." Maggie grabbed both his shoulders to drive the point home. "Please."

"Sure." Jimmy nodded and watched Maggie run back into the house, then told Hershel and Beth that he was going inside for a minute and tried to remember where he'd dumped his things on the day the world had gone to hell.

Maggie caught her breath in the doorway, finding Glenn peering mournfully at their daughter. "Do you know 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia'?" she asked him.

Glenn started, coming out of his thoughts with a dumb look on his face. "I, uh…what?"

"The song," Maggie explained. "Charlie Daniels. You know it?"

"Yeah. I mean, sure, I guess." He thought about it and added, "I played it once, when I filled in for a friend with his band."

"Great." Maggie walked back to the edge of the bassinet and looked at Glenn. The song had a good beat to catch the baby's attention and a good story to keep her entertained; it just might be crazy enough to work. "I think I have an idea." She grinned down at the baby and launched into the song.

"Well, the devil went down to Georgia,
he was looking for a soul to steal.
He was in a bind, 'cause he was way behind,
he was willin' to make a deal.
When he came across this young man,
saw him on a fiddle and playin' it hot!
And the devil jumped up on a hickory stump, said…"

Maggie lowered her voice to the octave of a bad black-and-white villain and delivered the devil's dialogue. "'Boy, let me tell you what. You probably didn't even know it, but I'm a fiddle player, too. And if you care to take a dare, I'll just make a bet with you." She struck a comically arrogant pose. "Now, you play a pretty good fiddle, boy, but let's give the devil his due. I bet a fiddle o' gold against your soul, I think I'm better than you.'"

She paused, to take a deep breath and to see if it was working. Katie was looking up at her expectantly, still sniffling and still shouting, occasionally, but calmer now than she had been. Glenn looked from the baby to Maggie in wonder, nodding for her to continue before the baby got fed up with them both and screamed as loud as she damn well pleased.

Maggie took on a heroic stance to sing, "Boy said, 'My name's Johnny and it might be a sin. But I'm gawn take your bet, you gawn regret, I'm the best that's ever been!"

She nodded at Glenn for the chorus and they sang together:

"Johnny, rosin up your bow
and play your fiddle hard.
'Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia
and the devil deals the cards.
If you win, you get this shiny fiddle made of gold,
but if you lose, the devil gets your soul!"

Glenn broke into a solo, dah-nah-nah-ing his way through the fiddle part following the chorus, and when Maggie didn't start the next verse, he looked up. She was smirking over at him, leaned nonchalantly against the bassinet. "It's practically the state's anthem," Glenn said to defend his over-zealous performance. "I felt like I had to learn it the minute I moved here."

"The devil opened up his case and he said, 'I'll start this show,'" Maggie continued, looking back at the baby. She threw her entire body into the performance, her eyes bright and expressive, as if she were playing to an amphitheater of millions rather than a tough crowd of one. "And FIRE flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow. And then he pulled his bow across the strings and it made an evil hiss!" Glenn pantomimed this. Katie giggled. "And a band of demons joined in, it sounded something like this…"

Maggie air-guitared for all she was worth. Singing out the repetitive riffs, she looked to Glenn for the backing bass. He kept up a steady rhythm. They were going into their second or third repeat, when Jimmy appeared in the doorway, triumphant, and held up the old bow and fiddle. "I found it!" he announced. "What the hell are you two doing? Wait. Charlie Daniels?" He leapt in when it came around again and offered up his services as a gifted musician. He hadn't gone All-State all four years of high school for nothing.

Maggie didn't want to lose the momentum they'd gained, so she didn't pause to compliment Jimmy on his obvious skill. Instead, she began the next verse with, "When the devil finished, Johnny said…"

Jimmy jumped in. "'You know, you're pretty good old son.'" He grinned down at the baby, holding up the fiddle for her to see before tucking it back under his chin. "'But you just flop down in that chair right there, Imma show you how this stuff's done.'"

"Fire in the mountains, run boys run," Glenn and Maggie chorused, followed by a few bars of fiddling. "Devil's in the house of the rising sun." Jimmy laughed as he played. "Chicken in the bread pan, pickin' out dough." They all shrugged at each other. "Granny, does your dog bite? No, child, no."

Jimmy started playing, and they let him go. Katie was quiet for the first time in awhile, mesmerized by the flash of bow over strings, the concentration that furrowed Jimmy's eyebrows. They felt like they could watch him play for hours, until he looked at Maggie and nodded for her to pick up the song again.

"Well, that old devil bowed his head,
because he knew that he'd been beat.
And he laid that golden fiddle down on the ground
at Johnny's feet.
Johnny said—"

Maggie looked to Jimmy, who picked up, "'Devil, come on back if you ever wanna try again. I done told you once, you son of a gun, I'm the best that's ever been!' He played—!"

"Fire in the mountains, run boys run,
Devil's in the house of the rising sun.
Chicken in the bread pan, pickin' out dough.
Granny, does your dog bite? No, child, no."

Jimmy went crazy on the song's finale, with Glenn and Maggie air-fiddling for back-up. As he struck the last two notes, Jimmy gave a yelping laugh of excitement, resting the fiddle on his shoulder and letting the bow drop to his side.

But Maggie hurried to his side and shushed him. "You were incredible," she told him, "but, if you wake her up, I'll throttle you with your own fiddle strings."

Together, the trio crept from the room. With one crisis averted, they could focus on preparing for whatever else the world planned to throw at them today.