Daryl and Merle size each other up; Carol's homecoming dinner with Maggie, Glenn and the Dixons brings home some truths that might mar her reunion with Daryl.
Terms: flop: bed, usually a temporary situation in a cheaper hotel; hooch: liquor, especially illicit moonshine or bootleg alcohol
Carol had a week's leave before she had to report back to duty when the Hope would be shipping back out to first Hawaii and then the Pacific theater. Something big was in the offing, perhaps the final push to take the island of Japan itself, because all of the hospital ships she knew about through contacts with other nurses with whom she'd gone through training were being ordered there in the first week of August.
Merle and Johnny had free housing at the Presidio, the big military base in San Francisco, during the separation from service paperwork and the follow up medical care both of them required before they could leave. It could take up to a week or more depending on the complication that had arisen with Daryl and Merle's reunion.
As far as the Navy was concerned, Chief Petty Officer Merlin Dixon had been dead since November of the previous year. His hands had been burned too badly for a finger print ID to be possible so to prove he was who Daryl said he was they needed some other proof. The problem was that their original birth certificates and the few family photos they'd had were burned in the fire that had killed their mother years ago. The certificate copies they were issued to join the service didn't have the original footprints. Merle's copy of the one photograph of the brothers together in uniform, which was taken right before they shipped out, had gone down with his ship and Daryl kept his in a safe deposit box in Atlanta. They'd called the bank and then Hershel and asked him to get it and send it as soon as possible.
In the mean time, the group headed for a welcome home dinner that Daryl had reserved at the bayside restaurant near the hotel where he and Carol had stayed before she'd left for the Pacific. With Glenn, Maggie, Merle and Johnny along it wasn't quite the romantic candle lit tête a tête that Daryl had envisioned, but it was with family, his family, the only reason he could justify delaying his long awaited reunion with his wife.
At the dock, Merle and Johnny's duffels had been sent along to the Presidio medical barracks and then they all took cabs to the hotel. Maggie and Carol went up to the rooms to freshen up and change for dinner while the men waited in the bar.
Still on pain meds, Merle wasn't really supposed to drink, but since there were no medical personnel present to stop him, he downed two shots in quick succession, which gave his eyes a glazed sharp mean look that Daryl recognized from his childhood. They were his daddy's eyes.
"So how'd you meet her?" Merle asked, using a tilt of his chin to signal the bartender to refill his glass and pour one for Daryl as well.
"At a dance." Daryl said evenly, picking up the shot, taking the unspoken challenge, and downing it. "USO; she volunteered."
"Back there in Atlanta?" Merle nodded, smiling slyly and curving the fingers of his left hand around the shot glass, "Found ya self a sweet little Georgia peach...nice an' juicy..."
Daryl narrowed his eyes, bristling at the less than respectful tone of his brother's description of Carol.
"I think you've had enough." He said, and then motioned the bartender over, "Cup a' Joe—all around, black."
Looking uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation, Glenn and Johnny readily gave up their beers and accepted the coffee while Merle continued to hold on to his last shot.
"Didn't mean no disrespect, boy." Merle pursed his lips and then grinned broadly at Daryl. "Just congratulatin' you on your fine taste in women is all." And then he lifted the whisky to his lips and tipped it back, open mouthed so it burned his throat all the way down.
Just then Maggie and Carol came looking for them. Daryl watched the intensity with which Merle stared at Carol, who for her part smiled to see them both sitting together. She was so happy at their reunion it made him push down the feelings of unease the interaction with Merle had caused and smile back at her. She had changed out of her uniform into a light blue suit with a pale orange blouse that made her look delicate but vital, like an early spring flower pushing its way up through the snow.
She was beautiful.
And Daryl wasn't the only one who noticed.
"Daddy would say this is why Carol had to leave." Maggie said quietly, leaning close to Glenn as they watched Daryl, who was leaning back in his chair on the other side of the table, his arm around Carol's shoulders; looking at Merle telling a bawdy story about trying to convince the Johnny to sneak into the nurses' shower room on board ship.
"So she could find Merle?" Glenn whispered back, and Maggie nodded.
"Part of God's plan." Maggie smiled, "From the moment she and Daryl met."
They watched as Carol rested the back of her head on Daryl's arm, smiling contentedly, watching Merle and Johnny with half closed eyes.
"Some things are just meant to be." Glenn agreed, and Maggie turned to him with a slow smile, raising her face to his for a sweet kiss.
"I hope your parents think so." Maggie said, sounding a bit resigned for them not to.
"They're going to love you. I wrote and told them all about you, your dad, the farm—Atlanta—it's a new start, for all of us." Glenn said, quietly adamant. "We need this."
"I'm not Korean." Maggie said, finally coming out and stating her biggest worry about meeting his parents and sisters. She looked like the people who had sentenced them to imprisonment for how they looked; how could they help but resent her for taking their son away from them?
"You just cotton to that now, sis?" Merle drawled, indicating that Maggie had spoken louder than she intended to, letting everyone at the table in on she and Glenn's conversation.
"She's worried about meeting the in-laws." Glenn explained, pressing a reassuring kiss to Maggie's temple.
"They'll love you." Carol assured Maggie, sitting up straight and leaning forward to address her, "You're smart and kind; you love their son and you're bringing their grandchild into this world. That's usually a big hit with in-laws."
"A baby?" Johnny said, staring wide eyed at Maggie. "I apologize for thinkin' I thought you was just fat Mizz Maggie!"
"No, there's a baby in there, John." Maggie chuckled, her hand going to her abdomen's slight rise.
"How come you didn't put a bun in Peach's oven too, baby bro?" Merle asked, giving Daryl a narrow eyed look, "Keep her here on shore like your boy Glenn did his woman?"
"You best be glad I didn't, or I might never a' found your ass." Daryl told his brother dryly.
"Well, now, that's true enough..." Merle said, his voice trailing off. "I don't rightly know if I'd have made it back here, wasn't for her..." and then he gave Carol such an unguarded look of adoration that it made Daryl wonder what exactly had happened between them on the ship, a tiny wedge of the same insecurity that he'd felt growing up in Merle's shadow trying to push its way between Carol and him. Big brother was always the smooth talker that the girls wanted to be with... Daryl was the shy awkward kid stumbling over his words if he could even work up the guts to speak to a gal.
"You're a fighter, Merle, and stubborn as hell, just like Daryl." Carol chided, embarrassed at his praise.
"Nah, he's always been the sweet one, my baby brother..." Merle said with a grin and then a look of surprise came over his face. He glanced at Daryl, frowning as if he didn't know where that knowledge had come from, and asked, "Is'at true?"
"What you always used to say." Daryl nodded, trying to keep the hope in his voice from getting out of control. He'd been trying not to push any old memories onto Merle since Carol said that could overwhelm him. She'd had a conversation about it with the psychiatrist about what to do if the men started recovering their pasts. Slow and steady was his advice, let the memories come at their own pace.
"And so he is." Carol said, turning back to Daryl, hugging him around the neck and then leaning back to smile at him lovingly.
Daryl smiled up at her, and the kiss that followed was indeed sweet.
The pensive look on Merle's face was not.
"Tired?" Daryl asked, seeing Carol hold her hand over her mouth to hide her little yawn as they walked Merle and Johnny to the cab stand on the corner by the hotel so they could get a lift to the base.
Maggie had taken Glenn off to bed an hour ago, but Johnny had kept asking Daryl and Carol questions about everything related to Atlanta like how long it would take to get there by train, the names of everyone who lived at the Greene farm, what kinds of animals they had and every other detail he could think of. Realizing they were the last people at the restaurant, Carol apologized to the wait staff and ushered the Dixons out.
John was walking ahead of the three of them, backwards, so he could talk to them, but periodically glanced over his shoulder to make sure he didn't run in to anything on the deserted street.
"Just been a very long... very happy day." Carol said with a small smile. She was walking between the other two men with her right arm linked through Merle's left one and Daryl's right on the other side.
"Not every day you find your dead brothers." Johnny said, nodding at her in agreement.
"Alive." Merle added dryly.
"If we were dead we wouldn't be walking." Johnny said, making a face at Merle.
"True enough, kid." Daryl chuckled and then signaled to call one of the waiting cabbies on the corner by raising his free hand.
Johnny tried to turn to see who Daryl was waving at and tripped over his own feet, starting to fall backwards, forcing Daryl to let go of Carol and jump forward to grab him.
Merle held Carol in place, keeping her from moving along with Daryl to help. He pulled her closer and bent his lips to her ear.
"I may only look like half a man, but I still love you with everything I got, Peach." he rasped and then quickly released her, moving to Daryl's side.
Carol stood still and looked heartsick.
"You okay dumbass?" Merle chided Johnny, "Don't need to scramble yer eggs any worse than they already are!"
"Fell on his ass, not his head." Daryl said with a snort, helping the younger man to stand.
Johnny looked sheepish and Daryl grinned over at Carol, but her troubled look made him frown.
"He's okay," Daryl assured her, thinking that was what she was worried about.
"I'm okay." Johnny echoed, blushing as Daryl dusted him off.
"Good—I'm glad..." Caryl said, giving him a little smile even while her forehead stayed crinkled into a frown.
Daryl frowned back at her, tilting his head questioningly, but she gave a little shake of her head, indicating now was not the time to discuss whatever was bothering her.
"Best get him back to our flop for the next few nights." Merle said evenly, breaking the couple's focus on one another.
"We'll see you in the morning." Daryl said, holding out his left hand for Merle to shake.
"Have a good night!" Johnny said brightly, his look including both Daryl and Carol.
"Yeah...sure they will..." Merle said, with a soft bitterness, taking Daryl's hand, but looking over his shoulder at Carol as he shook and released it. "Come on, Kid."
The cab driver was holding open the door and Merle ushered John through it, settling in beside him, giving Daryl a mocking salute as it pulled away from the curb.
Daryl watched the cab leave and then turned to Carol. When he saw the look on her face he held open his arms and she came into them gratefully. He felt her tears against his chest as she burrowed her head into it.
Their room wasn't the same one they had stayed in last time, but that didn't really matter to them. They were alone, together, for the first time in months. They should've been enjoying their reunion, but instead they sat on the bed together, still fully dressed except for their shoes, trying to talk about Merle.
"I should a' known if anybody could a' survived, it'd been him... one handed." Daryl said, sighing, looking at the far wall. "Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother."
"He was so hurt, Daryl—not just the burns—he lost who he was." Carol told him, her gaze on her ring, rubbing it with the fingers of her right hand. "He felt like he had nothing to live for."
"Except you?" Daryl asked, looking at her sideways as he plucked at the chenille bedspread with the fingers of his left hand.
When Carol didn't reply, Daryl reached over and took her left hand in his right, rubbing her ring with his thumb.
"Before you left...we said our vows, but there wasn't a preacher there." Daryl said quietly and then hesitated before continuing haltingly, "If things are different now, if they've changed...I'll understand if you...if you don't—"
But before he could complete the sentence Carol was pulling him close, holding him tightly around the neck, her lips to his ear, saying over and over, "I love you, I love you..."
Daryl's held breath became a relieved sigh and then she held his face and they looked into each other's eyes as they kissed, renewing those vows without a word.
"You'd really do that, wouldn't you?" Carol asked, staring up at him, pushing his long bangs back off his face and frowning at him, "You love him that much."
"Both of you. If that's what it took for you to be happy...if you'd have loved him..." Daryl nodded.
"He's in love with me." Carol said, not with pride or malice, just a simple statement of fact.
"Guess I can understand that." Daryl gave her a shy grin back. "You saved him..."
"It happens sometimes; in nursing we spend so much time with the men as their only contact with the world. They get dependent on us for emotional as well as medical support." Carol said and rested her head on Daryl's shoulder as she continued. "Working on the ship—you see so much horror—maimed bodies and souls, the dying who just want to last long enough to see their momma or wife and baby, you hear about the conditions the prisoners were kept under, the torture they endured, the losses..."
"Are you okay?" Daryl asked, wondering how this experience had and would continue to effect and change her.
"Gotta be." Carol responded, but it felt like a pat answer, her smile tight and not reaching her eyes. Sensing his dubiousness she looked away.
"Hey—it's me." Daryl said softly, taking her chin in his hand and tilting her face up to look into her eyes, "You don't gotta hide from me."
Carol's lips trembled and then slid into a slow small smile.
"I know." she told him.
Daryl leaned forward and brushed a kiss to her cheek.
"I don't want to hurt him, Daryl. I knew he was getting too attached. Even before I knew he was your brother I knew it would be hard for him, seeing us together, seeing how you and I feel about each other." Carol fretted. "The last thing I want to do is come between you two."
"We'll figure it out." Daryl assured her, "We're family."
"To him you're a stranger, Daryl—one who has what he wants." Carol warned. "From what I've learned about him over the last few weeks, Merle doesn't strike me as the kind of man who gives up very easily on what he wants."
"Neither am I." Daryl said, raising an eyebrow at her. "So, long as I know it's me you want, he's shit outa luck."
"It's you I want." Carol said, the dimple in her cheek and the throaty whisper changing the conversation in just those few words.
"That right?" Daryl's slow smile matched hers.
Carol nodded, sliding closer; close enough for him to nip at her neck and nudge aside her collar with the side of his face. She shivered, unused to the rasp of his new chin whiskers.
"Sorry." Daryl murmured, kissing her neck to gentle her, moving his hands to pull at the pins holding her hair up in its tight proper style.
"I kind of like it." Carol said, making him chuckle and rub his cheek against hers. She put her hands on his chest, warming them on his body heat and then sliding them up to loosen his necktie.
Daryl took over, removing the tie and starting on the buttons of his shirt, fumbling a bit in his hurry while she smiled at him indulgently and shook out her hair, running her fingers through it to loosen the curls he loved. Longer now, it fell down over her shoulders in a russet cascade, arresting his attention. Mouth open, Daryl raised his right hand to curve his fingers through the soft wavy strands, tightening them to draw her closer.
"I missed you so much..." he said, nuzzling into her softness, brushing kisses to her ear, neck and throat while reaching down and tugging her blouse out of the waist of her skirt so he could smooth his hands over her skin, but finding the silk of her slip instead and making a frustrated noise.
Carol smirked at him, lying back on the pillows and looking up at him as he lifted his head and frowned at her.
"You got way too many clothes on..." Daryl muttered, going up on his knees and quickly finishing the removal of his own shirt and undershirt so he could start on hers.
Carol's breath caught a little—she was around men all day every day on board ship, seeing them in various stages of undress as she tended to their wounds—but none of them gave her the thrill that looking at Daryl could. He had the broadest shoulders, but they tapered in a perfect V to his narrow waist, the line of muscle leading from his abs to his sex even more prominent now with the tan that working long hours outdoors on the farm had given him. He wasn't muscle bound like some of the soldiers and sailors who spent their off hours lifting weights in the gym, but his arms were well defined, sculpted into the perfect curves of his biceps bulging as he lifted his undershirt over his head and off.
She sat up and onto her knees, staring at him, waiting.
Daryl came forward, close enough to touch her, and worked the buttons of her melon orange blouse, sliding it off her shoulders and off onto the floor with his shirt. He came even closer, reaching around her waist, looking for the zipper of her skirt, finding it on the side and lowering it slowly.
Carol raised her arms and Daryl went to the hem of her skirt, lifting it and the offending slip up and off over her head, leaving her in a white lace bra and panties.
Daryl made a noise low in his throat—the softness of her, the delicate sprinkling of freckles, her pale skin—all of it was revealed to him, all the dreams he'd had and the nightmares too, all his fears of losing her suddenly rushing in and he pulled her to his chest, fitting her to him, kissing the top of her head and just rocking her, needing to know she was there and real and his.
Carol let herself relax against him, the steady beat of his heart against her ear soothing her. When he stretched out, lying down onto the bed, bringing her with him, she put her arms around him, her fingers tracing the line of his spine, sighing at his warmth and strength. When she reached the beltline of his trousers she let her hands wander lower and felt a different kind of warmth suffuse her.
Daryl sucked in a breath, suddenly very aware that she had her hands on his ass, caressing it, the rush of blood to his dick making him groan and rock against her. Her mouth moved to his collar bone and he felt the soft scratch of the lace cups of her bra against his chest. His hands quickly found his belt buckle and trouser fly buttons, pulling away from her momentarily to shuck them and his boxers off and then settling back against her.
Carol returned her hands to smoothing over his behind, moaning when she felt his rock solid hardness push against her belly in response to her touch.
Daryl gently pushed her back onto the pillows and lowered his head to kiss her neck while he slid her bra straps off her shoulders and her arms until he could draw the cups down off her breasts, the rosy peaks bouncing up when released, her flesh goose pimpling in the night air. He continued to kiss down her throat as his hands closed over them, cradling their weight against his palms and then pinching each nipple between his fingers. At her little noise of pleasure he lowered his mouth to the right, sucking it in and teasing it with his teeth and tongue, the delicious soft suction and rasp of his chin whiskers against the pillowy softness bringing her hands to hold his head more tightly to her.
Her scent, her skin, the way she moaned his name as she arched her back and writhed against him, urging him to continue, dazed him with desire. Needing more of her, he found the front release and removed her bra and then used his tongue to lick and taste and suck at her breasts even while he skimmed his hands down over her belly to the lace covered apex of her thighs.
"Still too many clothes." Daryl muttered, his fingers tracing the cleft at her center, feeling her wet heat under the scrap of cloth remaining between them. "Though this is pretty..."
"I wore them for you." Carol said, her breath coming much more quickly.
He began to rub her in slow circles and she moaned and tugged on his hair, her thighs opening to his assured touch. He knew her, what she liked, what she needed...
"You were thinkin' a' me when you got dressed this mornin'?" he asked her, running his index finger back and forth across the lace.
"Thinking of you taking them off of me." Carol told him with a sly expectant smile.
"There's my vixen..." he chuckled, doing just that, sliding them down and off. His task done, he moved back between her legs, drawing them apart.
"Daryl." she sighed when he brushed his thumbs across the curls, opening her, bending over her.
"I dream of this...of you..." he breathed against her.
"God... oh god..." Carol gave a high pitched cry at the intimate kiss, his tongue spearing deep, lapping at her, his biceps under her thighs pressing her into the bed, lifting her knees over his shoulders, tipping her back so he could give her what he wanted her to have.
The orgasm was quick and bright—followed by two more until she felt boneless. He kissed her thighs and belly then lay down beside her while they both got their breath back.
"I like the whiskers." Carol said with a grin, turning onto her left side to look at him, raising her left hand to his chin and scratching against the sandy little patch of scruff.
"Glad to hear it," he said, grinning back, "That's as good as it gets—never could grow much of a beard."
Carol ran her fingers down his chin to his neck and then his chest. She thought he had just the right amount of hair there too, just a light sprinkling and then the line down his center to his belly button and below. She continued to follow it, making his eyebrow quirk up at her and his abs twitch as she circled his navel, almost tickling lightly.
Daryl held his breath as she moved closer, her heavy fall of hair brushing against his hip just as her hand closed over his erection, the mass of curls blocking his view. When he felt her soft lips press a series of kisses down the shaft, he half sat up in surprise, his hand pushing under the hair at her nape to stop her.
"Carol?" he choked out.
"You don't like it?" she asked, turning her head to look up at him, pushing her hair back off her face, the blush of embarrassment tinting her cheeks.
"Shit yes I like it—but you don't have to—I mean you haven't ever—I mean..." he stared at her, looking perplexed but incredibly aroused.
"I know I don't have to...I want to. I mean, I sort of learned some things on the ship...and I wanted to try them on you..." Carol said slowly.
"You learned some things?" Daryl asked in that same choked voice, releasing his hold on her so she could sit up.
"Men aren't the only ones who talk about ...things..." Carol told him, gesturing to his erection and pouting slightly with indignation. She hadn't expected the Inquisition when all she was trying to do was do something that she thought he'd like.
"Sex things?" Daryl asked, frowning up at her, his face flushing in a blush that mirrored hers. "You and the other women on the ship talk about sex things?" He'd expected it from the women at the cat house where he'd grown up, but the idea of women like Carol, educated high class women, professional women talking about such things surprised the hell out of him.
"Nurses are women, Daryl; we're on board a ship with over a thousand men. You didn't think the topic of sex would come up?" Carol asked him gently, becoming aware he was having a hard time imagining that proper ladies would dare such a thing.
"Some of the nurses... uh... went with the men?" Daryl asked, reevaluating his thoughts about them all being saintly Florence Nightingales like his Carol...
"Some." Carol nodded, and then added matter of factly, "Some of them were with other nurses too."
"Huh." Daryl blinked at her. Was this the same woman who had been so scandalized when he'd brought up the same kind of thing in relation to the girls at Deanna's House?
"My friend Tara—she'd sneak in some hooch and we'd all sit up and have quite illuminating discussions on the topic." Carol giggled, "She said she wanted to shake your hand to thank you on my behalf for knowing how to do what you just did and doing it so well."
"Glad to hear I'm on the lesbian approved list." Daryl responded dryly.
"Definitely." Carol smiled.
"And these discussions are also where you heard about...?" he asked leadingly, reaching up and taking her hands in his and bringing them to rest open palmed on his abs to either side of his navel.
"Ways to keep a man happy but not to get pregnant..." Carol said tartly, "Not everyone always has access to your little tins of Merry Widows out at sea."
"Very true." Daryl nodded, "But you know, just feeling your hands on me makes me happy—if you're not comfortable with anything more, it's all right." He ran his fingers feather light up and down her forearms making her shiver.
"I love all of you." Carol told him, taking a deep breath, lowering her chin and staring into his eyes, her face framed by the riot of curls.
He reached up and pushed the hair falling in her face on the right side back behind her ear and then nodded at her, silently agreeing to what she was asking him.
Carol's hands went back to him, curling her fingers around his stiffening length with her right hand, gliding up and down, enjoying his soft whimper.
Daryl watched her lower her head and felt her autumn locks caress his skin, saw the pink tip of her tongue pop out to lick her lips as her mouth opened, felt the light warm wet press of them as she held him in her grip. She kissed all the way down to the root and then, her eyes finding his, licked her way back up to the head in one long stroke and opened her mouth over the tip, sucking it inside and swirling her tongue.
"Oh fuck." Daryl said, his dick jumping in her hand, his control teetering on the edge. It was too much. He grasped her shoulders and shook his head at her. "Carol. Stop... you gotta stop..."
Carol released him, frowning, looking worried.
"It's too good, sweetheart... m'gonna come and I been waitin' months to be inside you when that happens, okay?"
"Okay." Carol smiled, relieved. She reached for the tin on the nightstand and opened it, making a show of helping him, presenting him with the prophylactic.
Condom on, he moved over her and sunk into her, his eyes on hers. She winced, just barely, but just enough to make him pause, waiting for her to relax, pulling her thighs up with his hands until her knees were at his waist, the change in position letting him go deeper, stretching her around him, his hips continuing to push forward.
Then Carol's hands went to his waist as if she was asking him to wait, biting her lower lip as she frowned up at him, tears starting to form in her eyes.
"What's wrong? Am I hurtin' you?" he asked, holding still, bracing himself above her with his hands on the bed on either side of her shoulders.
"I was so afraid...when I was out there... that we'd never have this again... that this, that you had all been a dream..." Carol said, reaching up with her right hand to touch his face, her fingertips tracing his lips. "I love you so much—more than I thought I ever could love any one again—and... and it's..."
"And it's scary as hell." Daryl said, kissing her fingers. "To love someone so much."
Carol nodded at him tearfully; she knew he'd understand. She let her hand side down the column of his neck to rest at his throat, feeling his rapid breaths, the beat of his heart, strong and reassuring.
Continuing to look deep into her eyes, Daryl began to move in slow shallow thrusts, setting an easy rhythm, watching her eyes widen as he went deeper, feeling her hands go to his shoulders to hold him closer so that their bodies were pressed against one another from chest to hip as he moved.
Wrapping his powerful arms around her he lifted her with him as he shifted position, rolling to the side and then onto his back so that she was above him, her hair falling in a thick a curtain around their faces. Holding her close he kissed her and then pushed her up so she was half sitting astride him. His hands came up to palm her breasts, supporting her above him until she grasped his biceps and anchored herself there, using the hold to pull herself forward, almost completely free of him and then pushed her hips back down onto him just as he thrust his hips forward.
Their matching exhalations of surprise and pleasure co-mingled and made them decide to try that again...and again... reacquainting them both with what it meant to be together in every way.
Managing Merle is going to be an interesting task when they return to Georgia...
Historical Notes: 1905 saw the use of fingerprints for the U.S. Army. Two years later the U.S. Navy started, and was joined the next year by the Marine Corp. In the first years of WWII Navy dog tags had an acid etched imprint of the thumbprint of each sailor on the back of them, but the practice was discontinued in 1944. During the next 25 years more and more law enforcement agencies join in the use of fingerprints as a means of personal identification. Many of these agencies began sending copies of their fingerprint cards to the National Bureau of Criminal Identification, which was established by the International Association of Police Chiefs. Source: usmarshals dot gov
(Weird fingerprint fact: koala bears also have fingerprints!)