February 14, 2011

~*~ AF ~*~

Abraham's returning to his little single room apartment from dropping off his laundry bag in the empty laundromat when Michonne calls out to him. Happy enough to reconnect with one of the few people he calls friend, he falls in step beside her, even as she walks away from the populated areas.

"Where's Andre?" he asks, lighting a cigar. One benefit of the Virginia trip is probably a lifetime's worth of cigars, even after he turned over plenty of the other tobacco products for potential trade goods for Homestead.

"Beth is watching him for a little while. I needed to speak with you without little ears around."

That's concerning, so Abraham slows his pace. "What about?"

"We were a little indiscreet at Christmas."

He raises a brow. It sounds like someone is aware they screwed like bunnies, but Michonne never struck him as the type to worry about anyone disapproving of her bedmates. "If indiscreet is what you wanna call it, sure. Didn't think you minded anyone knowing?"

She laughs, some tension actually easing away. "That? No. I meant that we didn't take extra care in preventing long-term consequences. There's a reason birth control pills aren't listed as 100% effective."

He stumbles to a halt at that. He remembers being glad to see the damned packet of pills in her bathroom. "You're saying you got a bun in the oven?"

"That's one way of putting it." She reaches in a pocket and hands him an all-too-familiar scrap of paper.

He studies the grainy image. The baby's far enough along that it looks distinctly like a baby now. It takes him a few tries to manage, "Everything's good and healthy?"

Michonne's expression softens, turning compassionate. "As far as we can tell. Measurements are on track, heartbeat regular and strong. We weren't completely sure on your return date and needed to confirm dates. Cricket took a video."

"When?" He's gone numb, unable to fully process it yet.

"September sixteenth. Same as Maggie, actually."

"Michonne, I got no intention of being a deadbeat, but I don't..."

She cuts him off by virtue of clapping a hand over his mouth. "Abe. I'm not asking for a perfect answer right now. I know you're still grieving something you'll never get over. But it's your right to know and be involved if you want to."

He's careful to be gentle when he tugs her hand away. "I'm gonna need some time to adjust it in my head."

"I understand. Knocked me for a damned loop too at first."

He offers her the ultrasound back, but she shakes her head. "It's your copy to keep."

"A'right. Need to take a walk."

She doesn't stop him when he walks off, not that he expects her to. Any other woman might follow and hassle him, but Michonne won't.

He keeps going, long legs eating up ground until he reaches the pasture fences. He leans on the railing, mind still spinning with the news.

He fumbles the ultrasound to stare at the tiny baby. He believes what Michonne's saying, that she'll hold him to no obligation. The baby won't suffer, not with a badass mama like that. She's already a single mom with all the backing of the innumerable Dixons.

The baby's little arms and legs are distinctive. He traces the outline of the tiny head.

He's going to be a father again.

~*~ GR ~*~

Maggie's still semi-miserable with nausea from the pregnancy. All the tests run indicate a healthy pregnancy, just with a mother's body taking time to adjust. Only Maggie's pregnancy is widely known at Homestead, but he can't help but be a little envious that Cricket and Amy seem to be having nausea that sticks to the reason for the morning sickness nickname.

It was the contact with the obstetrician at Hilltop that gave her some relief at last. While her condition didn't seem to really fit hyperemesis gravidarum, Dr. Carson suggested an experiment with taking antacids and keeping a food diary.

It took only three days to nail down the acid reflux diagnosis. He's never been more grateful in his life for such a simple solution. Between the modified diet to avoid triggers, antacids, and a wedge pillow to sleep on, Maggie's actually been feeling better the past week. It's ironic that some of the efforts to avoid nausea, like ginger and peppermint, were making things worse.

While the meal crews are more than happy to cook special foods for Maggie, mostly because half the nursing home has a similar diet, he's aimed for cooking dinner in their small apartment tonight.

He spent his last off day in a cooking lesson with Patricia and Jazz, trying to recreate foods he enjoyed as a child in his mother's kitchen. Most are too spicy and adapting them loses too much of their character, but gimbap seems to fit just right, not to mention within his limited cooking skill.

Maggie's propped among a half dozen pillows, pretending to read but watching him through her lashes. He supposes it really is a sight for curiosity, him cooking.

He did get the rice precooked from the kitchen when he sliced vegetables and blanched the spinach so that he only had to sauté things in the apartment. He figured using sharp kitchen equipment needed supervision anyway.

He's got the carrot strips going in the pan, cooking away, while he seasons the spinach and rice with salt and sesame oil, which is supposed to be a good fat with Maggie's reflux. As soon as the carrots come out, he flips the sheets of nori one by one in the pan just long enough to crisp. It's a step they missed the first try in experimenting, and the taste ended up fishier than he remembered.

Next, he stirs two eggs and lets them cook to an omelet type consistency while he spreads rice on the nori. He sets up the first roll as purely vegetarian: pickled radish, carrots, spinach. The second, he adds sliced strips of the egg with the vegetables once it's done. The third gets shrimp, thanks to canned shrimp being in abundance. The last is more traditional for his childhood: tuna.

As he rolls each gimbap, he's grateful that Jazz's eclectic cooking led to a lot of ethnic food prep items. He doesn't think he could manage the rolls without the bamboo mat Jazz gave him. Brushing each roll down with the sesame oil, he slices the rolls and brings the plate to the bed to share with Maggie.

"It looks like sushi rolls," she comments.

"The idea is similar, but everything's cooked. It's gimbap." He's uncertain she'll like it, so he doesn't even taste his own until she's eaten one herself.

She smiles. "This is really good. What's the pickled bit?"

"Daikon radish. Lenore mentioned they grow them primarily as a fallow crop, but she wanted to try pickling them to expand the food crops. Do you like it?"

"Yeah."

He gets up and grabs the jar out of the fridge, slicing a few onto a plate and bringing it back. "They're a good side dish."

She tries a slice and nods. "Think we can persuade them that a pregnant woman needs more?"

"Considering Patricia figured out how to make them taste like what I remember, I'm sure you've got an in with their maker already."

Maggie moves on to try one after another of the gimbap, so Glenn eats as well. It's a relief to see her eating with enthusiasm. He wonders, not for the first time, what his mother would think of Maggie. He thinks she might overcome the initial fuss over Maggie not being Korean with a grandchild on the way.

"What kind of bribe will it take to get this more often than Valentine's Day?" Maggie asks.

He laughs. It's a good feeling, that she's enjoying something he's made, a childhood comfort food that is as familiar to him as meatloaf is to Maggie. "Depends on how much nori is in stock, but I think growing a baby definitely merits as much of it as you like."

She leans in for a kiss before claiming the dish of sliced radish. "Is there a name for this?" she asks, munching another slice. It's the most she's eaten in one sitting in a month.

"Danmuji. I was always told they are good for digestion. Patricia said that's likely due to the vinegar as much as the radish."

While he tidies away the dishes, she repeats the word softly between bites. It's not an area they've really pursued, him teaching her any of his parents' native language. With Chamorro being used as their radio language, most of their spare study time is spent on that, and Maggie's often a little frustrated at her slower process. The lack of fluency in a second language makes it harder for her to absorb the new one.

He likes the interest. She doesn't need to really learn Korean, since it's a dying language for sure in their daily needs, much like some of Scout's extras and Jazz and Lydia's Mandarin. But maybe the culinary parts will be enough to pass on just a little of where he's from to their child.

Funny how it takes being a father-to-be to make him nostalgic about a past he's run from for years.

~*~ MD ~*~

The children of Homestead have been running around delivering valentines all evening. He knows the idea comes from a book, thanks to more than one Harry Potter loving offspring. But there's nothing more amusing than two dozen kids in homemade wings pretending to be Cupid, with little self-sewn cloth messenger bags containing their 'deliveries'.

The elderly all received a wealth of cards from the school kids. The teaching staff decided the kids needed some normalcy, and while normally Merle always saw the school parties for the holiday to be just an excuse for sugaring up a bunch of munchkins, this version is entertaining. Instead of the kids getting cards, they're gifting their favorite adults their handmade creations.

He's collected a decent sized stack over supper, mostly from kids who have siblings or parents involved with the building crew. Only Anaya's and Abby's seem really customized to him, and he intends to display them in his office at the house. But the part he loves the most is the truly impressive pile of cards his wife has now, each one read and admired while the young artist is hugged and complimented. He thinks Carol might be so happy she could float around without even the need for pretend wings.

He wonders if the kids are going to go door-to-door next, chasing down the adults who didn't make it to supper.

Since Carol's deliveries have tapered off, he leans in to kiss her tenderly. "Having a good time with this version of the day?"

"I had my doubts about it, but the kids seem so happy to be giving cards instead of getting them."

"Some of that might be the sugar rush." The dessert table might be the only indication that the day's a holiday by the old calendar, but they outdid themselves for the kids' sake.

Logan's been swarmed into the kids, standing out like Sam does by the lack of wings, but he seems happy enough to be dragged along by his new female relatives. Sam looks a little flabbergasted by Abby and Anaya claiming his attention as well, but he isn't protesting, and the boy's mama definitely seems happy that he's settling in with the other kids.

He turns his attention to the lady in question, since Carol's been drawn into conversation with Glynnis. Carol swung by to lead the Alexandrian quartet to supper, while Noah's still acting as escort to the folks from his old neighborhood. Since the teenager led them to a table closer to some of the building crew, he figures he'll meet them later.

The concern he's having is that the older boy hasn't left his mother's side, even though he has eyed the other teens present in the room with growing interest. He supposes that if someone plucked him and his mama out of their little hellhole life when he was that age, he would have stuck to her like glue until he was sure she was safe too.

"Carol tells me you want to rotate through the different teams, but that you cut hair before."

Jessie startles a little, which gets him a dark look from the boy, but he lets it slide. She manages a weak smile though and nods. "It was something I could do where I set my own hours to be home when the boys were."

Merle wonders how much of that was to protect them from their father. "Well, if it's something you want to consider doing a bit here and there, get me a list of what you need to set up a little salon. Hell, 'round here, I could probably find one of those backyard buildings already set up by some enterprising lady and haul the entire thing on property for you. Set hours when and how you want."

"Carol says you have a few ladies who cut hair here."

"A few, but no one who did it on a professional basis before. Don't think the men mind much if things don't turn out like something out of a magazine, but I imagine some of the ladies wouldn't mind a trained hand on theirs."

The blonde looks thoughtful. "It wouldn't be any trouble?"

"Nah. Most of the ladies in this part of the country that did a home salon used portable buildings anyway. Just gotta lift one up on a flatbed, get you a foundation and plumbing set in, no more than a day's work. You're even welcome to take part in putting it in place to learn the building skills if you like, or your son, if he's interested."

Ron shrugs when his mother looks his way, and Merle decides to take it as a yes. He knows Carol will toss the boy into several chore areas just to see where his interest lies since he's not expressing preferences. But he recognizes well-hidden frustration and anger bubbling under the kid's skin. Work that lets him take out those emotions on inanimate objects might help the boy adapt.

"Wouldn't I need to do evening hours here?"

"Everyone's got some daytime off a couple times a week. If they ain't smart enough to pop by during the hours you set to be there, they'll just have to settle for what they get." Hell, he just shaved his down to a buzz cut for years rather than deal with sitting in a barber's chair, but Carol likes the curls he's let grow out as much as he likes the shimmer of her halo of hair, so they're here to stay.

She looks like she's mulling it over. "Might rotate days then." The smile he gets now is more certain. "If you can find a shop to move, I'll be happy to do it a couple days a week. And to give lessons, if anyone wants to learn? Everything's an apprentice system here, right?"

He nods. "That'll get you on Carol's good books in a hurry. She's always looking for people to pass on skills before they get lost."

That's got his wife's attention back to them and she smiles warmly. "Not everything can be relearned from a book as easily as it can be taught by a person. We're going to have to send someone up to Hilltop to work with that blacksmith, you know."

He watches as Carol coaxes information out of the woman with a skill a politician would envy, with even the disgruntled teenager warming to Carol the more his mother seems to settle in. He turns his attention further down the table, where the other Alexandrian's been co-opted by Cricket and Christopher. They'll have that young doctor settled in as fast as Carol's working on Jessie.

Homestead as a refuge from more than just the dead keeps being a theme he's more than happy with.

~*~ DD ~*~

Daryl pats Judith's back a few more times even past the loud burp that defies her tiny size. She's put on weight, and more importantly, a bit of baby fat, so she's no longer struggling so much just to stay warm. It doesn't make him want to lay her down any faster though even as he knows she's dozing off.

Although at least now the tiny, adorable baby outfits are being used. Today's is a pink onesie with a camo cap and pants that made Lori just smirk at him when she handed him the dressed baby after her morning sunbath. Since sun exposure helps for both eliminating jaundice and generating vitamin D for the baby, Lori does the breakfast time nursing session in the morning sunlight in the living room with the baby clad only in a diaper.

Although germs aren't as much an issue as they once were, at least based on the lack of flu and cold outbreaks this winter, they still don't tempt fate by lugging Judith up to the community meals every day. Breakfast at home, lunch at the main house and occasionally the community center, and supper back at home.

At seventeen days post-partum, he can tell Lori's starting to get restless. He suspects she'll be back to part of her duties in another week. Not the laundry, but the inventory and other backup to Carol. Carol's even prepared for it, because one corner of the main office is set up with baby equipment for Patricia's son. With little Matty seven weeks already, Patricia's been doing the work that Lori took over when Patricia needed less stress. Patricia's asked to teach instead of coming back to the management office, so Lori won't lose that particular task, which he knows she enjoys.

Tonight is their usual Monday meal with Rick and Rosita. While Scout and Shane have joined them for the meal since Judith's birth, tonight they slipped away with the look of a couple out to celebrate the defunct holiday in ways Daryl's not going to think about in relation to Scout.

Lori's been shuffled aside in the kitchen in favor of Rick and Carl doing the supper dishes. The two goofballs are showing off for their ladies. He's surprised Audrey's here, in light of her uncle being home finally, but he hasn't seen Honey yet himself, so he supposes it's similar. The travelers are back home safely, and that's what counts.

As if thinking about her summons the young woman in question, Lori opens the door after a light tapping to be half-bowled over by Honey's enthusiastic hug. Lori's grinning at the happy greeting, while Eugene is hovering behind Honey, looking a little uncomfortable.

She turns loose of Lori at last, bypassing everyone else to peek quietly at the baby asleep on Daryl's shoulder. Knowing Judy is deep enough asleep to transfer her, he tucks her carefully into Honey's arms. The young woman makes her way carefully to the couch, the baby carried like a precious treasure.

Lori slips her arms around his waist, slipping in a kiss to his cheek. "I don't think I've ever seen her so still."

Daryl laughs a little at that. "Not sure she's daring to breathe."

The next arrivals don't knock, but that's not surprising. Jazz and Sophia have been part of the rotation in helping Lori with the baby since she was a week old, and they've accompanied Anaya and Abby back from the Valentine's party thrown for the kids. Despite the lingering muddled area of his precise relationship to Merle's children, they've all been designated as aunts and uncles to Judith, to the point Abby's begun tacking Uncle onto Shane's name. He's not arguing with Lori's choice there, and it fits Carl's habit anyway. He spent a decade calling Scout his sister and many years of the same with Cricket. It's only with Honey and Jazz, and now Sophia, that 'uncle' is a truly comfortable fit.

Abby drops a stack of homemade Valentine's on the table and she and Anaya each add one from their own messenger bags as they shed their tissue paper wings. "For you, Mama," she tells Lori. Lori's smiling softly as she looks through the hand-drawn cards from the various children at Homestead. There's a couple she sets aside with a grin. "Yours," she notes. "Or at least more of an ours."

He sees the little crossbow in one clumsy drawing and grins.

Eugene actually settles down with Jazz present, letting the teenager coax him into actually taking a seat next to Honey. He and Jazz both give Honey a smattering of baby development facts, but she seems intent on listening, so he leaves them to it. Judith's well cared for, so he tugs Lori close, loving how quickly she relaxes against him.

He kisses her temple before looking up to see that Rick's watching them both with a pleased smile. Daryl smiles back at the older man. Their family is complex, but no one can say it isn't a loving one.

~*~ CP ~*~

"Everyone all settled?" Carol asks. Logan's still a little shy of the rest of the family, but he settled down a lot once Jazz and Sophia returned to the house after their visit to see Judith. They lingered at the center longer than normal to let the boy spend time with Sam, rather than going off with adults he's just met today. Christopher accompanied them back to the house with a soft smile as he chatted easily with Logan.

Carol let the boy take the lead in who he wanted to end the day with, since he seems a little shy of females. She's promised Honey that the boy's a Dixon, but she thinks maybe the kid is wary of parental figures after losing both of his to the early stages of the illness. It's surprising that he's taken to Honey so well, under the circumstances of his sister's death, but then again, she's his superhero who rescued him from being alone in the world.

The little dog seems housebroken, so Merle's made an exception for Stella to be inside the house. None of the Dixon dogs come indoors, not on a regular basis, but none of them are pets in the same way Stella is. Hershel's best guess is that the dog's a husky crossed with something like the heelers they have on the property or an Aussie like Bandit. Logan didn't know for sure on the breed, just that she refused to leave him behind when he set the other animals free from the vet clinic. She guarded the outside door at the community center with all the serious intent Carol's seen Augustus display on duty, despite being a thirty-pound fluffball that looks like someone took a wolf plushie and painted it with a spotted coat.

"Yeah. He was happy enough to listen in with the story, and Christopher's sleeping downstairs with all the boys. The lure of the top bunk and sharing with Jazz definitely helped him manage a bedtime. Christopher's a little worried because the kid's been bunking with Honey since she found him, but now's as good as any for him to start some independence."

Carol grins. "Well, if he does have any nightmares, guess who took over Jazz's old room tonight?"

"Hannah Catherine?"

"And a very abashed Eugene, who looked like I was going to toss him out on his ear for coming along with her."

"Guess that answers the question of whether or not Honey's serious about the guy." He's got no objections to the younger man's relationship with his daughter despite the age difference. The similarities between her young men might not be obvious to the casual observer, but in knowing the men in question and watching her various crushes through her younger teen years, he could tell anyone that asks that Honey's lure is intelligence.

"I think you might want to skip any shovel talk tradition with that one."

Merle laughs. "Yeah. He's nervous enough without adding to it, and Honey wouldn't take it kindly if I scared the guy off." He gives Carol a suspicious look, although she thinks he's pretending. "Or if you did."

She joins him in laughter. "No, I did not terrorize him. It would be down there on the level of kicking puppies in its own way. He's been working so hard to seem useful to us after everything that happened around his arrival that I can't help but admire the effort."

Her husband makes a sound of agreement, but he distracts her from talk of the children and their significant others by stealing away her book and landing it on the nightstand with a thud. She arches a brow, which only gets her a smirk as he moves in for a kiss.

Despite the book theft, it's not an urgent kiss at all. In fact, by the time he pulls away, she's got the feeling he's memorizing the taste and feel of her as much as trying to arouse.

"You okay?" she asks softly, cupping his face between her hands.

"Just thinking over how our girl just snatched those folks right out of that bad situation up there, and I couldn't stay on track enough to make people do the right thing for you and Sophia."

"Merle." She kisses him gently. "Even high as a kite, you did more to protect Sophia than anyone else in the camp. I wasn't ready to ask for the help I needed. Honey got lucky that Jessie was already at that place, although the asshole laying hands on the kids probably made it happen faster for her. If Sophia turned up with broken fingers, you would've killed Ed regardless of whether anyone tried to stop you. That I do know."

"I think if Sophia turned up hurt, I'd have had help."

She agrees with that. Looking the other way on violence between a man and wife is far easier for people than violence toward kids. She wonders even now how Merle's mama's family managed to justify leaving their own blood in that home. It was a different world back in the sixties, how people looked at abuse in rural communities, and she's glad this one's much different.

Meeting the Andersons is definitely stirring up things for Merle, so she decides to aim for the distraction he's already started. Guiding one of his big hands under her nightgown, he gets the idea easily, turning up the heat on a kiss that reminds her just how much she desires her husband.

edited scene

He kisses her jaw with a murmured, "love you" that she returns before he raises up on one elbow to smile down at her. "Not too late for a good soak in the tub," he suggests.

That sounds like a perfect end to a day she once wrote off as a useless holiday. Even now, she finds she doesn't really care that their day was working and family and just another normal day for them. She doesn't want the extra effort some women seemed to crave before the world ended, not just because of a date on the calendar.

She'll take their average, ordinary days ending like this over any 'holiday'.