January 1, 2011

~*~ MD ~*~

Merle moves around the pre-dawn dim kitchen with Christian grousing on his hip. It's not the baby's habit to wake this early, since Cricket's duty shift usually means they sleep later and eat breakfast here at the house. The fact that he's trying to gnaw Merle's shirt tells him it's more teething than hunger.

The damp terrycloth he tossed into the freezer is plenty chilled now, so he offers it to his grandson, and the boy settles as the combination of cold and texture give him some relief.

They originally offered to watch the baby for Tara and Cricket to enjoy the party last night, but he knows his daughter ended up spending the latter part of the evening with a patient. Carol was asleep when Cricket returned, making a trip through the house to peer in on her son in his crib in Merle's office for a minute before heading home to her partner.

Carol must be plenty tired, because she barely stirred when Christian woke fussing and settled easily when he said he was getting up. It's been years since he's had early morning 'conversations' with an infant or toddler and he enjoys the time with just him and the baby.

He snags the bottle he put in the warmer, just in case easing his gums reminds Christian he hasn't eaten for hours. Like most places he sits, the recliner in the living room faces out over the back property. They've made a lot of changes to the house due to new family in residence, but not that, at least. Although the way the glider rocker is positioned facing the deck instead of the television tells him Patricia shares his penchant for the view.

He guesses right about the bottle, because the baby easily trades his wash cloth for the bottle now that the dose of Tylenol is kicking in. The combination being rocked in the recliner with a full belly and less painful gums soon sends him right back to sleep.

Merle doesn't aim to return him to his crib. Instead, he snags the flannel throw closest and tucks them both in the recliner. He tugs his notebook over and sketches out his plans for the coming week while the baby drools on his left shoulder.

One major rearrangement is that Michael Fisher, the man the medical staff nursed through his bout with tetanus, would like to return home. It's a dilemma, because no one wants to send a barely recovered man and a teenage boy out on a 500-mile journey. The council decided yesterday to send a team with them, although the hope is that if the other community survived, they'll consider a move to Homestead. Michael can't speak for the rest, but he's certainly wanting to bring his wife and other two sons back.

Merle can't blame him. A community with medical care versus one without is pretty easy to decide between, as a father.

But asking a group of their own people to head out into months of on-the-road danger is a tough request. Scout suggested at least one of the two most experienced military men, so he's planning on meeting with Abraham and Tim today after their supply run.

With luck, and the group traveling north establishing solar-powered repeaters along their route, they'll be able to stay in touch. It doesn't make it any easier to send folks out that far into the unknown.

Last year at this time, he was dividing time between Georgia and San Antonio, in between finding the best experts money could buy for his eldest daughter's recuperation. The military did have one of the premier burn centers in the world, but he knew then they would never provide the full-scale reconstruction she required. But at least by that point, the worst was behind them.

In a year's time, the world's gone to utter hell, but whatever karma he built surviving his childhood is spun out in this little oasis for his family to become an oasis for Georgia's survivors. When he bought this place twelve years ago, it was meant to be a new beginning for his family, away from the specter of Will Dixon.

He's married and managed more children and two grandchildren with another on the way. If the good luck holds, maybe he'll even be a father once again the old-fashioned way. Two of his daughters are married, whether Cricket and Tara want to call it that or not and bypassed the whole ceremony issue entirely. Two of the boys his daughters adopted into the family are engaged. He honestly thinks more news of grandchildren is just a matter of months, not years. The younger kids are thriving in this world in a way he thinks most adults will never manage, even ones more adapted to hard knocks like himself.

His one regret is that if he were more stable early in the apocalypse, they might be further along, and more of the people part of his daily life before might have lived if he exerted more pressure on his employees, subcontractors, and neighbors to take refuge here rather than trusting the government. At this point, he doesn't expect any more surprise survivors already known to him, like Quinton's group. They would have found them by now.

The future is just a matter of finding any more pockets of good people and bringing them in or aligning with those stable enough to stay independent. He can't imagine that only his settlement and the predatory one to the southwest are all that's left of Georgia, much less other states. There's too many examples of other groups surviving for at least some period of time, and both his daughter's traveling group and the others who've moved through other states mentioned survivors that didn't join up.

He doesn't like to believe in any higher power, but he sometimes has to wonder. He remembers the first time he stood on this property, overgrown and half-wild, with the nutty old man selling it watching him like he could read Merle's damned mind. The place should have wiped out a good portion of his share of the family funds left to him by his great-grandmother.

Instead, the old man just muttered something about "the land's speaking to ya, ain't it?" and then charged him half of what it was worth, saying a dying man didn't need cash the way a family man did.

He died within the month of Merle taking ownership, in that same nursing home in town they put the elderly in. Every last cent the man had left went to a women's shelter in Northeast Georgia, and it made Merle wonder, not for the last time, just how much the old man knew of the Dixon legacy he broke free from.

He suspects the old coot would enjoy his old place being the shelter for the decent folk of Georgia.

The land does still give him that feeling it's trying to speak to him. He likes to think it's happy with all the lives sheltered within it.

~*~ EP ~*~

It takes Eugene a little while to orient as he wakes. Having someone in the bed with him isn't terribly foreign, because Honey's stayed over often enough. Having someone close enough that he can feel bare skin on his, that's new.

Slowly, memory of last night returns and he tries to regulate his breathing as anxiety kicks in. Last night, getting just one night with Honey sounded like it was worth the risk.

This morning, he thinks that might have been a mistake, because now he wants more and he's no right to ask that of her.

"You're thinking too much for just waking up."

He stiffens at her comment, feeling her breath wuff against his chest. He's still a little astonished at himself that he's only wearing pajama pants to bed, while she's wearing one of his T-shirts. When he doesn't answer right away, the arm she has tucked against his side moves as she rubs her hand across his chest to cup his jaw. She pushes up to one elbow and gives him a sleepy smile.

"Is the panic because you want to pretend we didn't have sex last night or something else?"

He wonders how she can state that so calmly. "I am unfamiliar with how a morning-after should be properly handled," he opts to say, instead of his hopes for more. Honey's lack of commitment to anyone she's shared a bed with is worrisome.

"Huh." She smiles a little more brightly than before. "Well, that depends. If it was a one-time experiment, we go back to acting like we always do and put a few more clothes on."

"And if I would greatly prefer to repeat the experience?" He does his best not to hyperventilate as he waits for her answer.

She glances at the clock and smiles wickedly. "Now or tonight?"

He did not expect that sort of reply, but his anxiety disappears in the face of a far more intense emotion as his body declares its firm intent that 'now' is perfect. She seems to know, somehow, and claims a kiss that doesn't leave him guessing at all.

He'll figure out the longevity of this endeavor later. He's at least got the answer that she's happy about last night, if she's encouraging his attentions again this morning.

~*~ SW ~*~

Shane hides a grin at Anaya's amazement as she sits atop the horse. He can ride well enough, but he's leaving the lessons to his young brother-in-law. Kid sometimes makes him wonder about stories where people can speak to animals, because they respond to him as if he speaks their language. He suspects it's the innate gentleness that inhabits Jazz. Even the attack on the Vatos didn't strip that away from him the way they feared it would.

As for Anaya, she's taking to riding so easily, he would never guess it's her first lesson. She's got the reins confidently in hand, with Jazz only walking beside the horse with a lead in the open area between barn and pastures. It surprised him that Jazz put the girl up without a saddle, but the teenager just shrugged and explained that she needs to learn the feel of the horse first. He did get her to buckle on a helmet that he produced from somewhere.

It leaves him leaning against the side of the barn and watching. Anaya's glancing over to him periodically, checking that he's still there, and he's glad that he decided there was little that needed his attention today that couldn't wait. His and Scout's off days are rarely truly duty free, but they can usually limit the demands on their time to just one of them at a time. In the past, they were happy enough to spend the extra time together. Now the overlap makes for an easy division of time for their adopted daughter.

Anaya's starting to flag a little, so Jazz leads them back to where Shane's waiting.

"You want to learn how to brush her down? She'll go back in the pasture after, but any time you ride, always do a good check of the horse before you set it free."

She nods, accepting Jazz's guidance on how to dismount while Moonshine stands patiently at the mounting block.

"Go look in the basket in her stall and get her brush. You can hang your helmet on the hook outside her stall if you want, since you'll ride her again tomorrow."

She beams and trots off, while Jazz pets the big horse as she nuzzles at his chest.

"She took to that horse like a duck to water, didn't she?" Shane asks.

Jazz laughs. "Yeah. It helps that it's Moonshine, who is as close to a horse with training wheels as they come, despite how big she is. But give it a few weeks and I wouldn't hesitate to put her on Imbri either. Spinda, I'm not so sure. She's skittish sometimes, and Anaya's not old enough to understand her spazzing yet." He looks thoughtful. "I should probably check out the tack at the horse farm. Eventually, she'll need to learn to ride with a saddle, and we don't have anything for children that will fit Moonshine or Imbri, just Spinda."

Shane glances out to the pasture, where Imbri and Spinda are grazing. The massive Friesian/Percheron mare dwarfs the little paint next to her. He's heard it mentioned in passing that Imbri outweighs the smaller horse by nearly five hundred pounds. He's ridden Imbri and Moonshine both, and he can understand why the saddles can't just be swapped around willy nilly with a smaller horse like Spinda.

"Think Arthur could make something, if you need it custom?" The patriarch of the Eldridge family has a leather workshop down on his farm that would make anyone who ever wanted to work with leather die from sheer envy. Arthur attributes it to a lifetime of collecting tools and equipment. Shane's just happy he ranked high enough in the older man's estimation to merit a gift of handmade leather boots for a wedding gift.

"I'll have to ask. I don't know that he's ever made a saddle before. Might be a good project since he's got apprentices now."

One of Donna and Allen's twins, Ben, and the orphaned older teenager from Grady, Troy, are both working with Arthur on both farm and whatever other skills the man can pass on. Shane heartily approves of it, because skills like tanning and leather work are much easier from a live teacher than from books or videos, and eventually, they will run into situations they don't have stored items for.

Anaya comes back with the brush and follows Jazz's instructions with the concentration and seriousness of a bomb technician. It doesn't take long to go through the grooming lesson, and Jazz leads Moonshine off to return her to pasture.

"Think you want to try that again?" he asks, waiting on the obvious answer.

"Yes!" She's vibrating with happy energy as she walks beside him, holding his hand. Scout should be done with the arrangements she's working on with Merle about the Virginia trip by now.

"Tomorrow, Scout and I have to work again. You think you might like to spend the day with Jazz while we're gone?"

"With the animals?" She's considering it, although animals are always a good incentive at her age.

"Probably part of the day. But he might spend some of it with family, since a lot of them are off duty tomorrow."

"Like Carol or Merle?"

"Yeah."

"What about lessons?"

"Well, way we figure it, you're smart enough to keep up without sitting in the school house for a little bit. You'll still need to do your lessons, but you'll have to ask Jazz or Carol or Lori for help if you need it." The system worked well for integrating Abby past her trauma into the community, and they aren't really following any set grade level instruction for the kids, just aiming to meet their ability levels. It's meant that some kids are working on high school level material at eleven or twelve. He's not worried about Anaya at this point, because Gail assures them that she's well above the grade level she might be in if the world hadn't fallen.

"And when he's working? He works a lot, more than most of the other teenagers."

Score one for observation for his girl. "Yeah, he does. He thinks you can help or watch for everything except the building crew. So, on Wednesdays, you'll stay with Sophia, if you're comfortable with that, or Lori and Abby." Wednesdays worry him a little, because it's also one of the two days the elementary aged kids are out of class, like they are today. But he also doesn't think any of the more volatile younger kids would risk crossing Sophia, especially not the two boys who experienced Carol's disgruntled lecture.

"I like Sophia. She says she can teach me to draw like she does."

"Then Sophia it is."

They've reached the planning room the council's begun using as their meeting place, in the building shared with the watch shifts. Merle and Scout both look a little weary, but he supposes going through the options to send people out on a long trip into the unknown wears on anyone. Both of them greet Anaya warmly, and she seeks out a hug from Scout before telling them about her riding lesson.

"You want to learn a little about how we keep watch on all the property?" he asks Anaya. She nods, so he opens the door into the other room.

Dale and Amalia both smile at them and Dale agrees to give her a lesson in how the cameras work. She doesn't seem wary of the elder man in the least, but Dale does have that sort of trusted uncle vibe. It gives Shane a chance to step back over, although he leaves the door open.

"Y'all look like you don't really like the conclusions you're reaching," he remarks.

Merle sighs. "Funny part is, the part you'd think is the hard part is one of the easiest. If we send them off in my old work truck, the tank's already modified to hold enough diesel, they might even make it all the way there on the single tank. Toss in a couple drums of the fuel from the raceways and they wouldn't even have to scavenge. It'll seat six, so that gives us a full team, plus the Fishers, but damn, that's cutting it close, and nowhere to sleep."

"We're going to check with the mechanics to see if they can drop a cabover meant for a pickup onto one of the M35s. That'll give some sleeping space, and space for two or three more trained folks." Scout's checking her notes. "RV lot they snagged the last batch from had some good cabover campers. They'll need a third vehicle though. Going to be bringing back at least three people, if they're lucky and the community up there survived. Maybe one of the already modified buses."

"You narrowed down who you're going to ask to go?" He gave Scout his suggestions.

"Abraham, Tim, Christopher, and Danny, for sure. Gives two really experienced military, a medic, and a solid tech. We also need a mechanic, but that's tricky because the most obvious ones are Rosita or Honey."

All single, childless men in the confirmed list. And a choice between the two females that he suspects is the reason for the weary looks on the Dixon faces. If they ask for volunteers from the mechanically capable, they all know Honey will step forward, especially to help Rosita avoid months on the road with Abraham.

"Damn." He thinks over the tinkerers, but realizes none of the shadetree mechanics are ones he wants to trust these folks' safety with.

"At least she'll be going out with people we know will keep her safe," Scout says tiredly. "All people she trusts, depending on who we send out as the sixth."

"So, who gets to be the one to tell Carol we're considering sending one of her kids out into the wilds of Virginia?" he asks.

They all grimace at that.

~*~ CP ~*~

"Carol? Darlin'? You got a minute?" Merle's voice comes from the bedroom, so Carol calls out to him that she's in the bathroom.

He looks to the supplies she's tucking in a basket to be more convenient and actually smiles, which ought to be a weird experience aside from teenagers hoping to dodge a pregnancy scare. But then again, her cycle's reappearance is a sign that they can soon start trying. She certainly didn't miss the messy monthly process.

He doesn't comment though, waiting as she fumbles the bottle of Midol open and takes two tablets.

"What did you need me for?"

She spent most of the morning planning out a funeral of sorts for Lucia, who asked to be cremated, which led to some interesting research of just how to best do that. In the end, a team confirmed a lot of propane at the nearest small crematorium, so her body will be taken out tomorrow and her ashes taken to a nearby columbarium by her great-grandson as she wished. The woman was a devout Catholic, but months of the dead walking in the world made her not wish to be buried.

"Well, I figure if I'm going to tell you something upsetting, it'll be before the council meeting we need to have tonight."

"Is this about the Fishers?" That's the only issue really problematic at the moment. She can't imagine expanding the greenhouses or irrigation systems once the latest warehouse is done would worry him.

"Met with Scout today to come up with a list of who needs to go. Soon as Glenn's team got back in the gates, she started snagging folks to see if they were okay with being volunteered."

"Alright. That makes sense." She frowns, trying to figure out what he's uneasy about, and then it hits her. "Honey's going." He wouldn't be this antsy over one of the older offspring.

"She agreed, yeah. Need someone with more mechanical skills than Danny's got, and no one thinks it's a good idea to send Rosita out. Was going to ask Brady and Denova to go out as a pair, but seems he's gone and knocked her up. Should have talked to you before I talked to Honey, but she figured out something was up. Apparently, Noah's mentioned the need to go get his family to the others his age."

Carol sighs. The last thing she wants is one of their children out on the road - even the grown-up Marine ones. If she fusses, she suspects Honey would even stay, to avoid stressing her. She slides her arms around Merle's waist and accepts the hug he offers. "As much as I want to handcuff her to a post and refuse to let her go, I can't limit her out of fear."

"That's about how I was thinking on it. I keep thinking about all the kids being gone for months and the idea of repeating it makes me crazy, but this is hopefully the known and not unknown. Honey and Danny were already sitting down with the maps to figure out where to put in repeaters."

"Danny's going too?"

"Yeah. Abraham, Tim, Danny, Christopher. Tim suggested Andrea, odd as it sounds, but if he thinks she's ready and able, I'm willing to ask her. Figure on asking Elias too. Gives them another ex-cop, but at least he's a wildlife one. That'll give them two teams of four able-bodied if they need to stop and explore."

Carol mulls it over. Danny's already proven in the past he's willing to die to save Honey. She knows Christopher would, and the fact that he's not just a medic, but a fully trained registered nurse is better than one of the medics, like Zach or Zoe. Abraham... well, she honestly thinks the big man wouldn't allow any harm to come to the girl he once accidentally assaulted. Andrea, Elias, and young Noah Fisher would be the unknowns. She feels like scoffing at herself for thinking in the terms of the others defending Honey. Of all the girls, she's probably the most viciously capable next to Scout.

"Sophia's going to absolutely hate it, you know," she says, feeling him relax at her acceptance. She realizes he was honestly worried about it being decided without her input. Maybe she would be upset - or even angry - if it were Jazz or Sophia, but they've all effectively declared Honey an independent adult. Backpedaling on that now will only hurt her relationship with her stepdaughter.

"Yeah. She was bad enough when we let Honey get her own apartment. But she's got distractions right now, at least."

Carol leans in to kiss him gently, reassuring him that all's good between them. "We'll just make sure that the little expedition wants for nothing, shall we?"

He laughs. "Trust you to go straight to planning mode, darlin'."

"It's what I do best."

And since she can't curtail Honey's freedom, she can at least stick her nose everywhere she can to make sure the trip is successful - and short.

~*~ AF ~*~

Abraham takes a seat at the table across from Eugene, figuring it won't take long for gossip to start spreading about the Virginia trip. He figures he owes it to the younger man, in light of their friendship, to be the first to tell him. Especially since although he was well past sloshed last night, he distinctly remembers Eugene getting a new year's kiss. He's curious if the young woman took his suggestion to heart.

"Well, Mister Porter. Do I still owe you a night of drunken complaints about the female of the species?"

Eugene startles, before flushing such a dark red he's nearly purple. It catches Rosita's attention too, and she stops her conversation with Rick on her other side to turn to Eugene. She snags his jaw and moves aside his collar and whistles softly.

"I'd say we owe him more of a congratulations," she says, fingers exposing a very distinct love bite below Eugene's left collarbone. "I'd ask who the lucky lady is, but that's a fact I already can guess."

"How?" Eugene sounds strangled, looking between them.

"Oh, my friend, the only one unaware of your crush around here was probably the lady herself," Rosita states.

"Everyone knows?" He sounds mortified.

"Not as bad as Rosita says, but anyone who knows you well could figure it out," Abraham replies.

He studies his hands for a moment and sighs. "I am still uncertain of exactly where we stand, other than confirmation that she does not find me abhorrent."

"I'd say she doesn't. Leaving a mark like that in an easy to be seen place... that's a statement itself," Rosita notes.

Abraham nods. "Bit of a 'property of' marker, right, Rosita? Can't say I've ever seen the ex-marshal with any such evidence."

Eugene reaches up to touch the spot, looking more than a little lost, and Abraham feels for the man. Trust him to finally get laid, or at least close enough for the lady to mark him, and still not know for sure where he stands.

"Got some bad news for you, I'm afraid," he tells him. "They're drawing up a team of seven to escort the Virginia boys back home. Asked me to lead them up there today."

"I cannot imagine you would be anything other than successful in such an adventure. You got me all the way here from Texas, after all, and I'm certain you'll leave here better prepared."

Abraham glances at Rosita and he sees the wheels turning in her head and the appropriate conclusion being reached as she grimaces and reaches out to take Eugene's hand and squeeze it.

"Group like that needs a mechanic, Eugene," she says softly. "And there's only two of us qualified who can leave Homestead."

They watch it dawn on him and the misery spread across Eugene's face. "How long do you estimate such a trip to take, without me interfering in the route?"

It's the first verbal confirmation Abraham has that Eugene did sabotage their trip here, like he suspected after the truth came out. He lets it slide. "Based on our experience and the other two longer treks on record, maybe as long as four or five months. But we're not going to need to forage for supplies or fuel, so that'll help. As long as the vehicles hold up, if the roads aren't terrible and we don't have to route around big herds, I'm hoping for half that."

Eugene's hands are shaking and he's almost inaudible. "You'll keep her safe?"

"I'll do my damnedest. She's a firecracker like Rosita. We'll make it back."

He nods in acceptance, and distraction arrives in the form of Honey herself, who leans in to talk to Eugene quietly enough Abraham can't hear. The younger man nods and rises, so he figures Honey's making sure he's fully informed herself.

"Hopefully they'll iron things out a little more, if she's going out of her way to talk to him about leaving," Rosita comments.

Abraham just nods thoughtfully. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so hopefully that'll work for Eugene and Honey too, especially if the girl isn't ready to commit.