Bits and pieces deal with The Princess Bride. If you've read it or seen the movie, you'll understand. If you haven't either read or watched, please go do that this weekend. Special shout-outs to RachelNicole523, DeathWhistlingDixie, and MollyMayhem84 for putting up with my oddness. Also, a special thanks to BakerTennant'sTardis for my 100th review. Your reward will be coming soon! *muah*
Seraphim taught Sophia how to use the drop spindle while Carl read aloud from The Princess Bride and Daryl pretended to be completely absorbed in sharpening every blade he had ever seen. Seraphim smiled as she let Sophia work the wool on her own and watched Daryl smirk at Buttercup's bossiness and Westley's death by pirates. Sera had seen the brief flash of regret in the hunter's eyes when he snapped at her offer to read to him, and knew that he would stay to listen to the tale if she brought the kids over. Nudging Carl, she took the book and nodded him over to Daryl who promptly handed him one of the smaller blades and a second whet stone.
Clearing her throat, Sera began her reading with an enthusiasm that revealed both her familiarity for, and love of, the book she read. Fezzik's deep, gentle baritone was mimicked while Inigo's lilting accent wove around the story of his father's death at the hand of the six-fingered-man and his subsequent quest for revenge. Vizzini's nasal tone and the battle of wits caught the attention of the kids and Daryl while also drawing in Glenn, Maggie, Beth, Carol, and T-Dog. Any time Prince Humperdink was mentioned, Daryl would snort lightly or mutter "Walsh" under his breath.
When Sera finished the part where Buttercup trades her freedom for Westley's life, and the Count takes him anyway, she stood to check the fire.
"Aw!" Maggie frowned from her spot beside Glenn. "Don't stop now! What happens to Westley?"
"He fights his way free, duh!" Beth rolled her eyes at her sister.
Sera shook her head tauntingly. "What makes you so sure about that?"
"Because! True love doesn't just end like that!" Beth looked around at the others. "Right?"
Sophia bounced in her seat. "Please keep reading!"
"Let me set the fire to rights, and then I can read until dinner."
O:O:O:O:O:
As stomachs started to rumble, Sera finished the journey out of the Pit of Despair and marked their place to the sounds of protest from the audience.
"We'll read some more tomorrow, guys. It's time for dinner."
"Need a hand?" Daryl had long since given up the charade of working on small things while Sera read. Hershel and Rick had joined the group of listeners, so he felt free to quietly enjoy the story as well.
"That'd be great," Sera tossed the book and wool into her tent and retrieved the thick leather gloves while Daryl waited. "Like the story so far?"
He shrugged as they walked to the fire. "That Prince is a moron. The giant is stupid. Spanish guy seems alright. Westley's the only one with a decent chance at anything."
"I think you'll really like Inigo by the end. Just wait." After all, Sera thought to herself, Daryl understands the importance of family and the need to show others that they're not better than you.
Daryl didn't answer, focusing instead on moving the embers from the top of the Dutch oven and then pulling it from the ground. Using the end of her Hooligan, the top was removed and the steam roiled out, carrying with it the aroma of tender meat and something vaguely dill and peppery. Seeing the thickened broth and shriveled herbs, Daryl grinned up at Seraphim before holding his hand out for a bowl.
As he was in control of serving, Daryl reversed the usual order a bit. Whereas Rick, Shane, and Lori were usually the first to receive their food, tonight Carl and Sophia were given large bowls of stew and hunks of flakey bread before the men were given theirs.
Seraphim took over once Daryl ladled out his own bowl and went to sit on a long log. She served Carol and the others before getting some for herself. Seeing that Carl and Daryl had already cleaned their dishes, she divvied out seconds for them and then sank down beside the younger Dixon.
"So," Seraphim grinned across the fire. "Is it as horrifying as you thought it would be, little man?"
Carl looked over from his spot between Sophia and Rick. "Nah, it's really pretty good."
"Don't sound so shocked," Sera winked and dipped her bread heel in her stew. "My Ma was a great camp cook."
"She teach you everything you know?" Shane was sitting on the end of a log a few feet directly to Sera's right. As he spoke, he leaned in so that he could level the full weight of his smile and big brown eyes on her.
Daryl flicked his eyes over the deputy and then smirked into his bowl. "It's in the blood, like huntin' or trackin'."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Andrea really did sound insulted and accusatory, as if she had been personally insulted.
Daryl, not caring what the blonde thought of him, simply shrugged. "You're either a good cook, or you're not. Can learn to be decent and not completely bad, but being good ain't taught."
"After Ma died, Daddy and a few of my brothers prob'ly would've starved if I hadn't been as good as I was."
Dale lightly cleared his throat. "What's in this? If you don't mind my asking."
"I don't mind at all," Sera smiled at the older man's blatant change of subject. "Daryl's squirrel and rabbit make up the bulk of it. Dandelion, dock, goosefoot, and some pussy willow helped the taste and to thicken the broth."
"Well, now," Hershel chuckled lightly. "How about that."
Sera finished her bowl and then looked at the kids. "Ya'll wanna go get the berries? They're in the bucket behind my tent."
"Sure!" Sophia spoke for both of them before they sped off in a run.
Sera simply turned to speak over her shoulder, "pour the water out b'fore you bring 'em this way."
Sophia's soft laugh and her "yes, ma'am" floated back to the fire.
"I don't appreciate you teaching my son how to shoot." Lori's voice was a box of razorblades. "That's not your decision."
Sera refused to look at the other woman, instead taking the bowls out of Daryl and Glenn's hands and refilling them. "Cleared it with Rick first."
"I'm his mother!"
"And I'm his friend." Sera peeked into Maggie's bowl and ladled more stew on top of the few bites the girl had left. Raising her eyebrows in question at Hershel and Beth, she smiled and complied when they both extended their hands for more. Carol refused with a soft smile and a shake of her head. "I want him to be able to take care of himself and to watch my back if I ever need it."
Daryl helped himself to the last bit of bread and then lifted his right leg to rest his ankle on his left knee. "Ain't no reason the boy shouldn't know how to at least handle a weapon."
"It should have been discussed with me." Lori's jaw ticked as she over-enunciated each word, as if to illustrate with sound the difference between herself and the two of them. Sera knew then that the other woman would never even admit to seeing her point. "Especially after you knew last night that I didn't want him going in the first place."
"He's my son, too," Rick looked at his wife as if he wasn't sure who he was seeing. "He can't just keep going along as if nothing has changed. He needed to learn, and Sera volunteered to teach him."
Carl and Sophia returned, the boy carrying the bucket while the girl's hand hovered over the knife she now wore at her hip. Sophia had obviously remembered Sera's words on taking care close to the woods.
"Sera's cool, mom," Carl was busy splitting the berries up between everyone and missed the acidic look Lori sent the younger woman. "Daryl was there to keep a lookout in case something tried to sneak up on us."
"Lucky," Sophia took both her bowl and her mother's and moved to sit down. "We didn't have a lookout when she taught me."
"That's because there was no one to help us out." Accepting her bowl from Carl, Sera savored a mulberry's sweetness. "Remember how we had to stop every time there was a noise?"
"I remember you throwing me over your shoulder and running like a crazy person." Sophia raised her brows in challenge.
"There were eight walkers coming at us! We needed to move."
"Well, yeah," the girl's voice bespoke of how idiotic she thought that statement had been. "But I could have ran, too."
"Didn't say you couldn't run," Sera's response was just as childish as the teen's, and she winked at the blonde. "I can just run faster with you on my shoulders than trying to move and keep an eye on you."
Sophia settled on sticking her tongue out at Sera and rolling her eyes. She settled in beside her mom to enjoy her desert, grinning slightly when Carl's hand reached out for a brief moment and rubbed her back softly.
O:O:O:O:O:O:
Daryl watched the interactions around the fire with the interest and focus of a seasoned hunter and tracker. Shane was staring at Seraphim in a way that said he owned her, and Daryl wanted nothing more than to wipe the snide smirk from the other man's face. Lori and Rick were throwing glares at each other that may have been responsible for more heat than the glowing fire, and he had a feeling her dirty little secret had been found out. Hershel made no secret of his growing admiration for Sera's knowledge, but his eyes held no heat when he looked at her, and Daryl was glad that is seemed to be a completely mental attraction. Beth, Glenn, and Maggie were all discussing the book Sera had been reading to them earlier.
Five cherries, held by their stems, were dropped into his bowl. Darting his eyes in her direction, Daryl caught Seraphim's light shrug.
"I hate cherries. A lot."
Nodding, Daryl went back to picking through his berries and watching the others; specifically the other men. Glenn's left hand slowly trailed up and down Maggie's back as they spoke. Carl had been sitting pretty close to Sophia for the last two days, his hand often touching her back or arm. The kid, Jimmy, sat opposite of Glenn at Beth's other side, his hand occasionally brushing her shoulder or thigh as they spoke.
Looking back at the bowl in the space created by his crossed legs, Daryl had an idea. Scooping out the small handful of mulberries with his left hand and resting his right against the small of Seraphim's back, he turned to her and dropped the berries in her nearly empty container. As he pulled away, he could not resist letting his work roughened fingers graze along her spine experimentally. Her sharp intake of breath brought his eyes up in time for him to see the ghost of a smile on her perfect lips.
Across the fire, Carl said something that made Sophia giggle.
Glancing at Sera, Daryl leaned to speak to her softly. "Did the guy who wrote that book have Walsh in mind when he came up with that idiot, fruity prince?"
Seraphim giggled lightly and bumped her shoulder against his, sending warmth down his arm. He had a feeling that these little things meant more than he knew. Maggie was leaning against Glenn now, and Beth had laced her fingers through Jimmy's. Sophia was so busy trying to make sure no one was watching her as she glanced at Carl that her berries were only half eaten.
Yeah, Daryl decided. I'm doing something right.
Once Carol collected the dirty dishes, and everyone took a moment to thank Sera for dinner, she turned to Daryl and offered him a smoke. "You're definitely going to like the end of this story."
"Don't see how there's much more." Daryl mimicked the way Glenn sat facing Maggie, straddling the log and linking his ankle behind Sera's dainty boot. "Kinda hard to keep a story goin' when the hero's dead."
Sera began unpinning her hair so that the thick braid rested down her spine. The days were hot and humid, but the nights were starting to get just a hint of a chill. "Weren't you paying attention? 'Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it a while.'"
"Uh huh," seeing the younger man's leg move, Daryl let his denim clad shin slide slightly along the outside of Sera's bare calf. "It'd take a freakin' miracle."
Sera chuckled. "Just wait. You'll see."
A visible shiver worked its way across Sera's shoulders, and Daryl used going for his own pack of cigarettes to return Sera's offer as an excuse to go to his tent. Snatching the pack up from his cot, he turned and retrieved one of the flannels that still had sleeves from his pile. Returning, he sat in front of her and then wrapped it around her shoulders so that he was almost hugging her slight body. He felt ridiculous attempting something he had seen in a movie once, but the smile she sent him completely erased the feeling.
"I can get you something cleaner, if you're cold." Shane's voice broke into the quiet moment. "No need to smell like dead animals and dirt just because you've got a chill."
Sera turned to look at the ex-cop. "Why? This is soft and cleaner than most of my clothes, plus it smells like fresh air and Daryl."
Visibly scoffing, Shane glanced at the other man over her shoulder. "That's my point, exactly."
"Glad we agree, then," Sera sent Daryl another slight smile. "Though, I didn't know you noticed how good other men smell."
Daryl's chuckle surprised even him, and he found himself openly smirking at Shane's insulted face. That's right, fucker. She thinks I smell nice. Now, even I know that's a good thing.
"You would do good to remember who is a decent person in this camp, and who is nothing but a product of a broken home and screwed up childhood." Shane's voice was pitched low, but Maggie must have heard, as she whipped around to frown at him.
Sera drew her back up to sit straight. "And you, Mr. Walsh, would do good to remember that no count, backwoods trash sticks together. Also, I am still a woman who can care for herself and others. Daryl is still a hunter, tracker, and provider. What is it that you do, again?"
If Shane's glower could have caused physical harm, Sera wouldn't have left the conversation without a few broken bones. As it was, however, Shane simply stood from his seat and climbed the ladder of the RV to relieve T-Dog on watch.
O:O:O:O:O:O:
Daryl soon found himself sitting alone with Seraphim by the fire, enjoying a rare quiet moment. Sera had pulled one of her shirts from her tent along with a small tackle box full of threads and needles and sat sewing while he smoked. He thought about just pulling her over his lap and kissing her, but that would be too much like the quick, drunken hookups he used to have in the cab of his old truck.
How do I do this? Daryl glanced over as she cut her thread and held up the now mended shirt.
"You're pretty good at that." He was kicking himself for picking such a mundane topic until she smiled at him.
"Thank you! If you've got anything that needs sewn, just drop it off for me."
"Nah, you don't need to be working on my nasty clothes. 'Sides, they're all dirty, anyway."
"Wouldn't mind at all, really," Sera folded the shirt and began repacking the kit. "Gives me something to do before bed to let my mind settle a bit."
Daryl nodded his understanding. It's important to let the day go before you go to bed some nights. Keeps dreams easier and sleep better. Decent sleep is necessary to work the next day. It was one of the many valuable lessons of his childhood.
Sera stood and dusted off her shorts. "Well, I think I'm gonna head to bed."
With the difference in their heights, Daryl's eyes were level with her exposed navel, and he fought back the urge to lean forward and slide his tongue over the indentation. His shirt swamped her small frame, falling to her thighs and covering her hands. He wanted to slide his hands under the worn material and feel the supple skin covering her spine.
"I'll walk ya. Should turn in, anyway." He tossed the filter of his cigarette into the fire and then began the longest walk of his life, including the trek through the woods the day they met.
It took hours to walk the twenty feet to her tent, and Daryl's hands were twitching so hard he shoved them in his pockets to keep them contained. What if I do this wrong?
Sera tucked a few loose curls behind her ear, looking up at the bright, clear stars. "I like it here. Reminds me of home."
"Yeah, it's nice."
"You okay?" Sera set her things just inside her tent and turned to look at Daryl.
"'M fine. Why?"
She shrugged, and his shirt began to slide off her right shoulder. "Just seem distracted or worried about somethin' is all."
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Daryl carefully grasped the edge of the shirt and slid it into place. His tongue unconsciously rested between his teeth, pressing against the middle of his upper lip. His hand on that shirt was suddenly the most fascinating thing he had ever seen, and he stared at it for a few seconds.
"Daryl?" Sera's whisper was a caress.
He finally managed to meet her eyes. "I need to do somethin'."
"Okay, I'll see you in the morning." She took a step away from him as if she meant to enter her tent, and he grasped the shirt tight to hold her in place.
"Dar—"
His lips against hers cut off the confused question, and then there was silence.
O:O:O:O:O:
Sera's mind went completely haywire as his mouth brushed hers. Once. Twice. There was almost no pressure, as if he were afraid that she would run away if he pressed too hard. It wasn't until he sighed with what could only have been disappointment and began to pull away that she realized she hadn't responded.
With a sigh of her own, Sera took a small step closer and tilted her head up to encourage him. Her fingers came to rest lightly at the base of his neck, and she drew light circles on his tanned skin as she waited for his reaction. The feeling of his callused palm against the skin of her back caused her to gasp softly, opening her mouth against the heft of his full lower lip.
Daryl's response was immediate and far more decisive than she had anticipated. A low growl crawled through his chest. The hand on her back drew her closer. The fingers that had held the collar of the flannel minutes before slid effortlessly into the hair and the back of her neck, weaving though the braid and holding her still. He did not demand or force her movements, but simply held on to her in a way that allowed him to feel where she was going on her own.
When his tongue slid across her lip, Seraphim's world shifted and her universe changed. The ground no longer rested beneath her feet, gravity no longer existed. The only force in the universe holding her together or down was the man who stood with her wrapped in his arms. She took no notice of her sense tunneling down until they were all preoccupied with the taste of lips, the smell of sweat and fresh air, the sound of a softly pleased growl, the occasional glimpses of skin or piercing blue eyes, and the touch of warm rough skin against her own.
The kiss ended far too soon, and Sera let herself lean forward a bit to hold on to his lips for a second longer.
"Oh, okay." The words where more breath than sound.
"Sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to be so rough."
Sera shook her head. "You weren't too rough. That was. . . That was really, really good."
"Yeah?"
Sera suddenly realized that Daryl wasn't aware of how much she had enjoyed the kiss. How could a man capable of reducing her world to the size of his lips and hands be so unsure of himself? Not wanting to point out that he obviously knew what he was doing, she simply drew his head down to softly kiss him again. When she drew back, he was grinning slightly.
"Yeah." Taking a step back, Sera moved towards her tent. "In fact, you should probably make doing that as much as you can a habit."
Daryl nodded and took a step in the direction of his tent. "Um, okay?"
"Night, sweetie."
The endearment threw him off for a heartbeat, and then he was smiling as he turned to open his tent door. "Night, Catchfly."
Seraphim threw herself down on her sleeping bag as soon as she entered the tent, sighing softly to herself and letting her fingers dance over her warm and tingling lips.
Ten feet away, in the dark confines of his own space, Daryl lifted a fist to the sky.