Brazen Hussy - This chapter is chock full that guy...you know the one...that one that we try not to talk about.
Lilone1776 - The thing about Carol is she's a strong, believeable female character who doesn't go looking for fights but won't put up with shit.
sammipoop - Aw, thanks. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. ^_^
crystal2817 - Ugh, I know. If they don't have any angsty goodness I might explode. Waited two damned months for nothing...BS...
bspooky3 - Thanks! I enjoy getting the kinds of reviews you just gave me! ^_^ (I know what it's like waiting for updates of your favourite story, which is why I try to update so fast).
skittletitz - I recognize you! Ehehehe...Bad ass Carol is beautiful. Well, Melissa McBride is gorgeous anyways, but especially when she's kicking ass as Carol. (I may have a lady crush on the woman...)
ldyjaydin - Agreed! I shall try to have more kick ass Carol in later chapters.
GG - Haha! That damned turkey isn't safe yet...
AFishNamedSushi - I know! I'm eager for the reunion between Daryl and Carol and the Lt and Old Missy as well! That should make for a good chapter...I hope. Anyways, can't wait for your update...*excited*
Surplus Imagination - Okay, your review was hilariously distracted...made me laugh so hard...still am actually. Thanks for that! I hope you found a good veggie soup in your cupboards...or at least a decent substitute. ^_^ As always, thanks for your review!
Axelrocks - The thing that is hard, is that the characters in the show seem to be different in some aspects from their comic selves and since Tyreese hasn't been in the show much, I was struggling with how to portray him (I'm hoping to bluff my way through some generic lines of his until the shows gives me a good lead on how they want him portrayed). Anyways, thanks for the review! They are much appreciated.
Okay, I wasn't going to update again before Sunday...but eff it, I finished this chapter early and thought, why keep it to myself when I can post it? Right? Hell, can you believe this story has gone on this long? Daymn. It's getting out of hand...
Chapter Twenty-Five: Le Raconteur
**The Lieutenant**
It probably wasn't the best night of his entire life.
Sitting in a dark corner watching the woman named Michonne eye Merle with deadly intent, watching Daryl try to find things to distract Merle with so he wouldn't start trouble, watching the friendly blonde try to remain as still as possible so as not to move her bad leg.
If he had to be honest, the Lieutenant would have admitted that he'd rather still be overseas in the heart of insurgent territory instead of watching a slow moving train wreck. Or hell, at the moment he'd do with being in the middle of a hungry horde of uggies.
Though in Merle's defence, that Michonne woman looked like she was ready to hate-fuck the entire world with the sharp end of her sword. Of course on the other side of that argument, Merle was a hard man to get along with.
Awkwardly trying to find something to do with his long, lean frame, the Cajun settled against the refrigerator and folded his arms, but his rifle dug into his back unnaturally, so he shifted again, leaning his shoulder against the wall. His rifle began sliding off the slumped shoulder, so he stood up straight and curled his hands into loose fists at his side.
"So, a Lieutenant, huh?" Andrea asked.
All eyes turned on the soldier and the Lieutenant felt more awkward as he stooped over slightly in the corner, wedged between the wall and the fridge.
"Sure enough." He replied.
"You look young," Michonne spat. It was almost accusatory.
"Uh…thank you?"
The woman glared at him unflinchingly.
Wondering if he was supposed to add something else to the comment, the Cajun shifted on his feet under the black woman's stony gaze.
"Good genes," he added nervously. "My Mamere would argue that point though, considering the sperm donor from which sprung my single cell of life…I guess that'd be the term. Course we have a saying down on the bayou, 'age is not important unless you're a cheese'. Which…I suppose would also translate to wines and some of the…more," he cleared his throat, "ah, exotic antiques. Louis the fourteenth clocks or…what have you…"
The woman continued to eye him steadily.
Using an admittedly juvenile trick, the Lieutenant pointed casually at a direction behind the woman, distracting her even gaze long enough for him to slip away, joining Merle in the little kitchenette, tucking himself behind the older Dixon brother.
What was it the Old Missy had said? Out of sight, out of mind? Yes. Seemed like a good tactical maneuver when it came to the woman with the sword.
"So? How did you like your stay at Woodbury?" Merle purred in his smug, raspy tone, eyeing Michonne with sparkling blue eyes.
"I stabbed your boss in the eye with a piece of glass." She replied coolly. "Still trying to decide what I want to give you as a way of thanks."
Merle beamed at her. "Aw, brown sugar, you don't have to give me anything. But if you want, you can bring that cute little blade of yours over here and we can compare sizes."
The woman drew her katana with a snap of her wrist. "Okay."
Deciding that taking cover by Merle had been a grave error in judgement, the Cajun took a step back from the man, hoping to slip away.
Without even looking, Merle reached back with his good hand and caught him by the front of his vest, yanking him back to his original spot just behind him.
"Look now, sweetheart, you scared the Cajun." Merle taunted.
"Ain't scared, just smarter than the average bear." The Lieutenant replied casually. "And I'd thank you not to bring me anywhere near your crazy ass when you start taunting women with swords."
Merle glanced over his shoulder at him, grinning. "She isn't going to try anything." He peered back at Michonne. "Isn't that right, brown sugar?"
The woman took a few steps towards Merle.
"Merle, if you can't be nice we'll tie you up on the roof again," Andrea growled from the sofa. "Michonne, don't kill Merle with his brother in the room, it'd be very awkward for everyone."
Peering around Merle, the Lieutenant offered Michonne a crooked grin. "I'd also be very grateful if you waited until I was clear before swinging that thing, beb."
The woman glared at Merle for a long, still moment, before replacing her katana on her back.
"Soon." She stated firmly.
"I look forward to it." Merle replied.
..-~-..
..-~-..
"How you ever survived childhood under one roof with that man is beyond me," the Lieutenant mused to Daryl later that night as Andrea slept beside them on the sofa. "Seems hell bent on making enemies."
In the kitchen Merle continued to loiter, eyeing Michonne who continued to stand just by the door, glaring back at him.
The two hadn't moved since their earlier disagreement and the Cajun and Daryl were both afraid to get some rest lest the two kill each other in the night.
So they sat up, watching the two eyeing each other and idly chatting to pass the time, as Daryl kept another eye on the world beyond the curtained window through a little gap he left.
"Barely did," Daryl grunted.
"Think I'm finally beginning to figure him out, though."
"Yeah, I'd love to read that book when you get it bound in leather." Daryl replied, finger rubbing against the side of his crossbow.
"Hey, you ever going to tell me about you and Carol?" The Lieutenant asked, leaning in conspiratorially towards Daryl.
The youngest Dixon eyed him. "You ever going to tell me why a dumb assed Cajun like you became a Marine?"
"Aw, that's a boring story. But I'll do you one better," the Cajun supplied with a grin. "Now this is a story my Mamere used to tell me, about the time her and my Papere were haunted by an old boo hag that lived in the swamp. You ever hear about a boo hag, Texian?"
Daryl shook his head. "Naw."
"Well, these boo hags, they like to slip into your house through small spaces and what they do is hover over your sleeping body and steal your breath right out of your lungs. Then they skin you and wear your skin around, because they don't have skin of their own.
Anyways, my Mamere one night, back when she was just young and freshly wedded to my granddaddy, well she heard this noise outside their home. She didn't think much about it, always possum's and raccoon's outside rattling around, so there was nothing to worry her.
After about an hour, she decided to head to bed, my Papere was going to stay up a bit and read, so he stayed in the parlour.
About one in the morning, my granddaddy had fallen asleep in his chair in the parlour and my Mamere woke up to this skinless being hovering over her, sucking the air out of her lungs.
She couldn't scream, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but stare into the black eyes of this thing as it slowly drained her energy.
Now, about that time, as my Mamere struggled to breathe, her cat knocked over the lamp in the parlour and woke up my Papere, well he got up and ambled into the bedroom, half asleep, found this thing on top of my grandmother.
At first, he thought she was cheating on him, but…when he woke up enough to realize it was something with sticky, bloody, bare muscles and tendons, he took the first thing he could find – which happened to have been the heavy book he had been reading – and let her have it in the back of the head.
The thing became a blur of colour and disappeared somewhere past him, into the hall.
My Papere locked the bedroom door behind it and stayed awake on guard all night, watching over my Mamere until the sun peeked over the horizon and the fog started to roll off the swamp into the low lying areas.
Until the day he died, my grandfather always went to bed with his wife after that incident just to keep her safe from the boo hag."
Daryl was quiet for a moment, processing the story.
"Why don't you tell him about your chupacabra, baby brother?" Merle stated from the kitchen.
Looking up both men found Merle and Michonne had stopped their glaring contest and were both staring at them.
"Shut up, Merle." Daryl sniffed.
"Chupacabra's aren't anything to laugh at, grande beede. You know what they do? They drink blood, suck you dry…course they prefer livestock, but still…wouldn't want to be the first man to find out that they also like human." The Lieutenant stated.
..-~-..
..-~-..
He was doing a walk through inspection of the cabin in the hours just before dawn, when Daryl caught him in the back mudroom.
"Can I have a word?" The youngest Dixon asked.
Adjusting the rifle strap on his shoulder, the Lieutenant nodded. "Sure thing. What's eating you, cabri?"
Glancing in the direction of the short hall where the main room lay, Daryl shifted on his feet.
"I didn't want to leave Merle at the convent with Glenn, bad history there, but…Merle and Rick don't really get along either. I need you to play peace keeper between the two for me if I'm not around or otherwise indisposed."
The Lieutenant smirked. "Well, I'm not the UN, I'm only one man. But I got your back. Seems like you got your hands full anyways, may as well make myself useful."
Daryl nodded his thanks and wandered back into the main room before Merle and Michonne could kill each other.
Standing in the mudroom for a moment, the Cajun peeked out the backdoor window, looking for threats, before following Daryl.
He found that the youngest Dixon must have stepped into the room at the right moment, as the Lieutenant caught the tail end of an exchange between Merle and Michonne being diffused by Daryl.
"Keep your brother on a leash around me, redneck," Michonne snarled at Daryl.
"Mind your manners, brown sugar," Merle spat darkly at the woman.
Michonne took a step towards Merle. "Why am I not surprised the backwoods pig fucker from the Appalachians is a racist?"
Sensing an impending bloodbath, the Cajun looked at Daryl who was torn between defending his brother and letting the woman have at him.
"When I was eleven I broke my arm falling out of a tree while trying to spy on my neighbour's teenaged daughter undressing," the Lieutenant blurted out loudly.
Everyone stopped in the middle of what they were doing to give him mildly disturbed looks.
"My best friend Aidan dared me to climb this tree, to see if I could actually see the girl naked. He said he'd pay me ten dollars if I could tell him what a girl's galette looked like. Like he thought she'd get undressed and show me everything." The Cajun went on after he was sure he had everyone's full attention. "So, I found this old mossy oak and climbed up her like a little squirrel. I was doing pretty good, until the branch broke…got one hell of a whooping from my Mamere when she found out why I was up that tree in the first place."
Everyone continued to stare at him quietly.
"When I got out of the hospital the next day, Aidan gave me five dollars, because I saw the girl's breasts and I kept my mouth shut. Plus, at eleven, seeing a teenaged girl's breasts made me the coolest kid in class that year. So, I did pretty good for myself, considering what I did was highly immoral and illegal. But the best part of it all was that my Mamere made me go and apologize to the girl. When I explained the situation and what happened, she actually bent down and gave me my first kiss, because I explained to her that I had picked her, because she was the prettiest girl I knew…course she slapped me first…but the kiss made up for it. That girl ran hot and cold. Course that was before I knew about my daddy and his habits."
There was absolute silence from everyone, before Michonne turned cold eyes back on Merle.
"Stay the hell away from me, redneck."
"Sure thing, darling." He replied casually.
Moving past the Lieutenant, Michonne headed for the back bedroom of the cabin, away from everyone, leaving Merle to eye the Cajun suspiciously.
"Were they at least nice tits?" Merle asked.
"You outta be a reporter, Merle, because you ask the hard hitting questions." The Lieutenant replied.
"Were they?" Daryl demanded.
Having the distinct feeling that he was being mocked, the Lieutenant eyed the Dixon brothers for a moment, before frowning. "They were the first breasts I'd ever seen, of course they were nice."
"Dumb ass," Merle grunted, with a grin.
Daryl hid his subtle grin by rubbing at his goat scruff idly.
The Cajun Dialect
Raconteur – Storyteller
Beb – Another Cajun term of endearment.
Galette - Pussy