Different Things Dixon Does


Rick stands at the podium, authoritative and capable, though inwardly a bit sheepish. Shane was always better at dealing with kids and school events in the community, so it was a shame to hear that he called in sick (which Rick wasn't inclined to believe for a minute; he was probably out playing hooky with Jenny, teaching her the novelties of turning lights on and off).

Nonetheless, Jim was a family friend, and it would only be for an hour and a half, so where could the harm in that be? At least they were high schoolers and more up to his speed (Shane was always better with small children) and it did give him a reason to go and maybe take Carl out of lunch after, talk to him about that argument he and Lori had earlier. Just a snag in an otherwise happy and healthy marriage; everyone in relationships fought, right?

Putting that to the back of his mind, he smiles, "Thank you for the introduction, Jim. As Mr. Wilkes has already said, I am a deputy sheriff from the King County Sheriff department; does anyone know what a deputy sheriff is?"

The class is thankfully small with most of the students sitting toward the front. A young Black girl raises her hand, and Rick nods at her.

"A deputy sheriff is supervised under an actual sheriff, but can still work within the scope of their field without instruction. They work in law enforcement and crime prevention and are responsible in training anyone in a lower rank under their supervision," Sasha relays articulately, and Rick looks at Jim in approval.

"Good job," Jim says from his desk. "Anyone have anything else to add?"

"Kiss ass," Daryl mutters from the back.

Sasha turns her body halfway and looks back at him with narrowed eyes. "What did you just say?"

"I said you deserve a medal," Daryl cuts a glance at her.

"Go suck a dick, Dixon," Sasha hisses at him.

"Spread open your legs, sweetheart," Daryl says, sucking in his cheek, and Sasha almost stands up, but Maggie puts her hand over her shoulder and shakes her head.

"He's not worth it, Sasha, let it go," Maggie whispers, though she glares back at the delinquent, who rolls his eyes.

Suck off a couple of dudes, and suddenly everyone's a critic. So, maybe he gave a couple of blowjobs to Senor Martinez, the ESL teacher, and Guillermo, the school janitor. As far as he was concerned, all that meant was that he liked burritos.

"Settle down now," Jim Wilkes says from his desk. "The next person who speaks out of turn is getting kicked out." He looks directly at Daryl, who decides to stare out the window at that moment.

"No need for that, Jim," Rick says in a laid-back manner, presenting his badge and pulling out his firearm. "Now, as long as I have both of these items on my person, I can make an arrest as if I were still in uniform. Now, I've heard you've been going over the Miranda rights, so all I really need is a volunteer so that you can see how this is done."

All of the girls raise their hands because all that translated to was I'm going to handcuff you and hold you to a car as I whisper in your ear.

Predictable, Daryl scoffs. He's had enough of the justice system for one school year, a repeat really wasn't necessary.

Rick contemplates the risen hands of volunteers, until his eyes land on one indifferent figure in the back. "How about the young man in the corner?"

Daryl raises a brow at him, wonders if he's being serious right now. "Nah, I'm good." He couldn't recognize him; he probably arrested hundreds of assholes every day and just because he was the "nice cop", didn't mean that he would notice him in a crowd.

"He probably spent his weekend being read his Miranda rights," Maggie says in a whisper loud enough for him to hear, as she and Sasha laugh at the image.

Oh the fucking irony. If only those brats knew.

Well then, Daryl conspires, let's give 'em somethin' to laugh at. "Know what? I change my mind," Daryl gets up from his desk, putting his wrists together in front of him with a smirk on his face. "Matter o' fact, we should head out to the car outside, make it just like last weekend," he winks at Maggie and Sasha in the front, who shake their heads at him in disgust. He makes a note to sic Amy on them later on.

Rick hesitates, not really expecting that. In fact, it's not even until he's standing in front of him, that he recognizes his face from his file. So much for employing Shane's tactic of taking the most disinterested kid for this. "We really don't have to," the sheriff deputy says quickly.

Jim stands, "I think it's a great idea. It'll show some of us the path they'll be heading down in the future if they continue down the path they're on."

Daryl really, really wants to tell him to shove his opinions up his tight ass, but before he can manage, he's pushed up against the blackboard, hands behind his back. "You are now under arrest. Anything you say or do will be used against you in a court of law." The handcuffs clasp tightly against his wrists and he frowns, forehead against the chalk erase board as snickers are heard behind him. "You have the right to an attorney; if you cannot afford an attorney, you will be appointed one by the state of Georgia. Do you understand these rights as they have been said?"

"Yeah, yeah," Daryl drawls lazily.

"Now, does anyone know the court case that started the Miranda rights?" Rick says to the class, but Daryl can feel the vibrato of his voice from his back, and being handcuffed like this in front of everyone was kind of turning him on, making his hair stand on end and goosebumps run down his arm.

"Miranda v. Arizona," Glenn speaks up, and he just knows lil' chink must be enjoying the show.

"That's right," Rick nods. "Now, what's one common misconception about Miranda rights?"

"Oh, I know this," Sasha says. "A lot of people think that if you aren't read your Miranda rights that you can't be arrested, but that's not true. All it does is stops the criminal from being incriminated at the scene of the crime."

Jim nods, filled with pride. "Two for two. Anyone else has anything to say?"

"That Miranda chick must've been a real twat," Daryl smirks. More than half the class laughs at that, he can even feel Officer Friendly shaking his head behind him, probably fighting the urge to smile at that.

He hears the clink of the handcuffs unlocking and rubs his wrist after the metal is removed. Rick gives him a pat on the back and smiles good-naturedly at him, and Daryl, feeling the warmth of the sheriff deputy's hand on his shoulder, gives a small, crooked smile back.

Jim, however, is less than amused. "Out," he states, pointing to the classroom door. At Daryl's raised eyebrow, he says, "I warned you before our guest got here, and I just gave you another reprieve a couple of minutes ago."

"I don't think he meant it that way, Jim," Rick says in a placating manner, and Daryl turns his head to the side, surprised that the deputy is speaking out on his behalf.

"You don't understand, Rick, he does this all the time, making snide comments," Mr. Wilkes frowns at his student.

"C'mon Jimbo, I was just playin' around," Daryl says, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Principal's office, Dixon! Now."

Mr. Wilkes is standing, slightly red in the face from annoyance, pointing his index finger out the door. Daryl looks at Rick, gives him a sidelong wink that the sheriff's deputy is at a loss in responding to, and heads to the back to get his book bag before heading out of the class.

It was only kinda interesting – kinda.


Principal Phillip Blake kept few necessities in his office – a picture of his dead wife and vegetable daughter smiling and content on his office desk made of mahogany. A few Principal of the Year awards – three years consecutive – on the side wall, a large bay window on the other side, and backed by a large aquarium of exotic fish illuminating the room in a soft blue glow.

Daryl walks in, slumps in the chair facing the desk. He already knows the drill, and he knows it so well that he pulls out a bullshit letter of apology – already typed and saved on a drive for days like these – and sets it on the man's desk. The man in question is standing by the large window, overlooking the school property and it's not like his office was cold or anything, but he gets a cold chill down his spine because The Principal was seriously creepy as fuck. Always smiling that shit eating grin of his, even though that pretty little wifey of his just kicked the bucket and his cute little girl was paralyzed from the neck down. Who keeps smiling when their life goes to shit?

"So, what have you done today, Daryl?" The Principal drawls expectantly, front still facing the window.

"You know," the young Dixon shrugs, though the man can't see it. "Bit of the usual, I guess. Jim's wound tighter than usual."

The Principal turns then, smiles, and ambles casually towards his desk. "Is that so?" Instead of going to sit in his chair, he makes a detour by standing right beside Daryl, who sits looking forward, and leans down. "I've told you how much I dislike it when you disrespect my staff, Daryl." He says in a cold and quiet timbre that would make Daryl lose his shit if he were a lesser type of guy.

Daryl sucks in his cheek, refuses to look at the man standing authoritively beside him. The Principal tilts back, chuckles quietly as he sits down in his large leather chair. "Now, why don't we discuss your future, Daryl?"

Daryl frowns, not expecting that. "My future?"

"Or lack thereof," The Principal waves his hand dismissively. "At the rate you're going, you're not going to have much of a future to consider, what with your arrest from this weekend and trial in court pending."

Daryl squints at him, "How'd you hear about that?"

"I have a few friends over at the police department," He says as way of an explanation. "And even if I didn't, the nightly news always does its job of keeping me informed."

Daryl sighs. Seriously, fuck small towns. A baby can't suck its mom's tit without everyone hearing about it. "What's it to you?"

"Do you understand how poorly that reflects on me, Daryl?" The Principal asks quietly. "To have a student on the news, not because of his meaningful contributions to the community, but because he's a shitstain on my otherwise clean canvas?" Blake leans forward on his desk, mouth set in a line. "I've been reasonable, and fair. I've given you chances, and opportunities, and you continuously piss them away. How is your brother, Merle?"

Daryl crosses his arms, fights the urge to squirm. "Surviving."

The Principal smiles without humor. "I gather. Let's hope he doesn't drop the soap."

"You done? 'Cause I ain't 'bout to sit here an'-"

"Your future, Daryl!" The Principal yells out unexpectantly, banging his hand on his desk, and Daryl quiets. "Consider it for a moment. Everyone was born for a reason, for a purpose. That's what keeps society going, that's why this school remains a pillar in the community, and little wastes of space like you prevent progress and civility. Now, what happens to you when you either drop out, or get expelled is of no concern to me, but while you are here, by God, you are going to be a productive member of this community." His southern drawl, his teeth baring smile, all make Daryl tense.

As if he didn't have an asshole to deal with at home.

"Whatever," Daryl grits out. "I couldn't give a shit about you, or your community."

Blake smiles widely. "I'm sure you couldn't. Doing something like that would require multiple brain cells working at once, and you don't have two to rub together."

"Fuck you."

"Such crass language," The Principal shakes his head, picking up his ballpoint pen and writing offenses on a pink slip. "Let's see: disruptive in class, insubordination, use of profanity... It would seem that you are one write up away from expulsion, Mr. Dixon. I suppose I should give your father a call."

Daryl leans forward in his seat, his cool broken at the mention of the elder Dixon. "No, don't. He ain't t' be bothered with this."

"On the contrary, Daryl, this is exactly the type of thing we bother parents with."

Except Will Dixon wasn't like other parents. Maybe he'd be so lucky that he forget to pay the phone bill, so that the old man wouldn't be bothered out of his perpetual high.

Blake continues scratching out offenses on his write-up, "I run a tight ship, Daryl. The faster you realize that, the easier life will be," he tears the paper away – an offensive sound to Daryl's ears- and holds out his pen. Daryl eyes it dubiously, as if he's just waiting for The Principal to stab him in the eye with it.

"Go on, sign the slip. You know the drill," Blake waves the pen tauntingly.

Daryl goes to swipe the pen out of the man's hand, but he holds it up at the last second. He does this a couple of more times until he finally lets Daryl have it, and Daryl signs his name in chicken scratch before dropping the pen forcefully on Blake's desk instead of his hand and slamming his office door shut.

He tells Jesse and Amy about it later at lunch – Jesse agrees wholeheartedly that The Principal was a bastard who probably needed to get laid, while Amy is shocked that anyone could think that way of him. "But he's so nice!" She says.

Daryl and Jesse exchange glances, the latter pulling down his beanie with a shake of his head.

Amy notices this, and frowns. "What? I mean, I wasn't too sure about him at first, coming from Woodbury and everything," The blonde reveals with a shrug. "But I mean, he is nice – he even wrote me a pass to class when I was late one day."

"That's how he draws you in," Jesse exclaims, and Daryl nods beside him. "He's all militant and crap, smiles like the fucking Joker," Jesse shudders. "The guy's one move away from losing his shit – you heard about what happened to his wife and kid."

"I know," Amy says emphatically.

"Well, I couldn't give a shit; if he comes at me one more time-" Daryl fumes.

"Daryl," Amy sighs. "Maybe he's having a hard time – not that it excuses his behavior towards you!" She adds on quickly when he puffs his chest out, ready to protest that. "But I don't know, he never really acts like that, from what I've seen."

"That's because he's an asshole who only shows his true colors to who he wants," Daryl states.

Jesse juts an approving finger Daryl's way, clapping him on the back. "Exactly."

They're sitting in the open courtyard away from the cafeteria with their trays. Daryl looks out onto the main parking lot where he sees the deputy sheriff entering his squad car. Must've stayed later to talk to Jim.

Unknowing to him, Amy follows his line of vision until it lands on the head attached to the deputy's hat. She nudges Daryl's side with a teasing grin, "Your parole officer?"

Jesse looks up with a squint of his eyes. "Holy shit, isn't that the guy that arrested you?"

"Yeah," Daryl says dryly, following the car's exit out of the lot. "Cuffed me today too."

Jesse blanches. "What do you mean he cuffed you?"

"Oh, you know," Daryl quirks his lips playfully. "Took out his silver bracelets and whispered in my ear while he jerked me off in the middle of class." He looks at Amy and the blonde is giggling, burying her face into his shoulder.

"Ha, ha, very fucking funny," Jesse takes a bite out of his burger a little more forcefully than necessary. "You and Chuckles over there can just laugh it up."

Amy slows her laughter to snickering, looking over at Jesse with her curious baby blues. "You know, for someone who is the bad influence, you get bent out of shape a lot."

"I'm the bad influence?"

Amy shrugs, picking at her salad. "Well, yeah, with your baggy jacket and pants, acting like you're some gangster or something. Especially since you're planning on turning a gay bar into your own personal meth lab."

"Shhhhhhhhh!" Jesse hisses, looking at Daryl accusingly. "You told her? Seriously?"

"He tells me everything," Amy rolls her eyes, sneaks Daryl a small, knowing smile that he returns in kind. "And anyways, if you are going to do it, then you need someone to vouch for you with Dale, and I happen to be very close with Dale."

"She's right," Daryl nods. "Old bastard always did seem to like her, and Andrea." Her city crawling, bitchy older sister. But that's a story for another time.

"Don't call him an old bastard," Amy admonishes.

Daryl turns back to Jesse, "Old geezer always did like Ames and Andrea."

"You're so mature," Amy shakes her head.


Lunch goes by fairly quickly, as it always did when you were hanging out with friends and the real world was out there, but by the end of it Jesse is ramped up at the prospect of getting his meth cooked and sold, and Daryl? Daryl just feels like he's going with the flow for now, trying to get his shit together. Since it's only the beginning of 'shit on Daryl' week, he still has to go face his asshole boss, Ed. Not to mention going to the store and making a few runs for food with money he didn't have because while Amy's mini fridge kept him going since he got out, he hated the fact that she did it at all, not that she would ever complain about it.

Jesse agrees (not that he had a choice) to make Amy into a silent partner of sorts to get in with Dale, long as she wasn't involved in much else, which Daryl couldn't agree more with. If he and Jesse got careless and were caught, so be it, but the last thing he wanted was for Amy to get caught up in this. Amy had a future to consider, unlike him. College.

As if he could get into college. Yeah. Right. And Merle would be at his graduation with bells on. Better yet, his father.

Still, sad that the highlight of his day was Officer Friendly at his back, pushing him up against a blackboard with cuffs around his wrist, his breath down his neck, and a hard on that was begging to be sucked off.

Actually, maybe that's not so sad at all.


Heh, realized belated that I was probably spoiling the story in my first AN. Whoops. I thank everyone for reading, reviewing, alerting, faving, insert all the aboving. I haven't had this much fun writing in a while (which probably isn't saying much, but meh.) As you all know, the smut is coming, I'm just taking a couple of detours first before I get there. But endgame is Rickyl, always Rickyl. Any other questions or concerns, drop me a review and I'll make sure I address it. For quicker updates, this is also available on the kink meme under the same name.

More soon~

DAC