AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think.
1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
"What the hell are you thinkin'?" Daryl asked, dragging T-Dog just a few steps away from Carol. While they waited on someone to let them in, Carol had found herself a comfortable spot in some nearby bushes to relieve herself, and their stepping away was covered over with the excuse that they wanted to give her privacy and to watch for the return of the woman with the sword. "You just come out and tell Xena the damned Warrior Princess that me and Carol are together?"
Carol was probably mortified that T-Dog would go and do something as crazy as assign them a relationship.
"Which do you think sounds better to someone who doesn't know us at all?" T-Dog asked. "What would make you more comfortable with someone coming in outta nowhere? We're two men and this is our pregnant companion—full stop. Or—this is a happy couple expecting a baby and they let me tag along because they're good people and I'm good people? Besides that, if there's any personality walled up behind that attitude, I wanted Xena to know that I was free for a little getting-to-know-you time. You were the only one responsible for the fourth member of this little dysfunctional ass family."
"But it ain't true," Daryl said.
"And we'll clear things up just as soon as it's safe to do that," Carol offered, appearing out of the brush again. "But if we're going to pull this off? And not get kicked out of here before we even get inside for being dishonest, you're going to have to realize that even a whisper carries."
Daryl's stomach responded to her words, even if his mouth wasn't sure what to say.
If he were going to say anything, he would have been interrupted by the woman with the sword. She returned, accompanied by a man with a heavy beard.
"You can come in," she said. "Get something to eat. But you stay with me."
"We appreciate it," Carol said. "Do you have—someone in charge? A leader we could talk to?"
"He's occupied at the moment," the woman said. The man with the beard clearly took his spot on guard. Like the woman with the sword, he carried a blade. Unlike the woman, his blade of choice was a machete. The woman directed them into the fences. Carol went first and Daryl and T-Dog stuck close behind her. The woman followed them and, as soon as they were inside, the gate was closed—though Daryl truly didn't know if she'd been responsible for closing it or if the man with the beard had done it. Inside, another man was waiting. In his hands, he held another machete.
Clearly, they'd already figured out, like Daryl and his group, that guns were the least useful tools they could have in this world.
"I know you're probably attached to your weapons," the woman with the sword said.
"We are," Daryl said quickly, "and you ain't gonna take 'em away. We don't mean anybody no harm, but that doesn't mean that we wanna walk around here without any way to defend ourselves if it turns out we're the only ones thinking that way."
He looked around.
Just from where they were standing, it was evident that this had once been a really nice place. It was still really nice, of course, given their circumstances, but it had been the kind of place where people who really had money to spend on their vacations rented really nice cabins in a gated community and pretended they were doing something along the lines of roughing it.
From where they were standing, Daryl could tell that there were fires burning and, beyond that, there were lights burning, too. Somehow, these people had at least kept some of the lights on.
"We don't want any trouble," the woman said. "But we don't back down from it, either. We won't take your weapons, but I do need to know what you have. And—I'll even warn you that I'm going to frisk you. So, this is your chance to show us you're honest."
She walked toward Carol and Carol held her hands up like she was assuming the position to be frisked.
"Bow," Carol said. "Quiver—arrows. I honestly don't know how many. Three knives."
"Where?" The woman asked.
"Side, back, right boot," Carol said.
The woman nodded at her. She sheathed the sword she'd been carrying behind her back and Daryl realized why the other man was there. He was simply watching and making sure that, with her guard down, nobody made a move on the woman.
"I have to frisk you," the woman told Carol. "And I'm sorry but—I'm going to have to make sure that…well, that that's just a baby."
Carol laughed to herself.
She moved one of her hands, keeping the one holding her bow up in the air, and lifted her shirt. She exposed her whole belly to the woman and to the rest of them.
"I promise," Carol assured her. "Frisk me if you want, but the baby? It's just a baby."
The woman did frisk Carol. Daryl noticed she was quite thorough with her frisking. There was little reason to lie to her about a blade stuck here or there because she would find it and, it seemed, they weren't fans of dishonesty in the community.
She walked over and stood in front of Daryl. He held his hands out in surrender like Carol had done.
"Bow," he said, shaking the hand holding his crossbow. "Bolts—twenty? Give or take. Knives. Same places as her. But I got a pocket knife, too. It ain't really a weapon, but if you're lookin' hard enough…"
She frisked him quickly. Still, he could tell by her roaming hands that she was set on not missing much.
When she went to T-Dog, he assumed the same position and gave a similar checklist. She patted him down, but he was the only smartass that, when she hit his groin, stepped back on her enough to make her straighten up.
"I didn't know you wanted me to mention every kind of weapon I have," T-Dog teased. "Damn—usually I like to know a lady's name before we get that intimate."
Whatever he'd said might have offended her or embarrassed her, because she immediately responded by walking away from him and drawing her sword from its sheath.
"Asshole," Daryl muttered as he fell in step beside T-Dog. T-Dog just chuckled quietly.
The woman led them toward a spot where several small fires were burning. Around the fires, there were people gathered. They were talking and laughing until they all got near. As soon as they neared them, the group around the fires stopped talking and started staring.
"Good evening," Carol offered as they walked by.
Nobody responded. They didn't divert their eyes, either.
A quick glance around told Daryl where some of the smell of food was coming from. Of the small fires, all but one had something cooking on it. The fire where the bunch of people was gathered seemed like the only one that wasn't being used for more than one purpose at the moment.
They followed the woman toward a cabin. Lights were shining inside the cabin that suggested that there were at least lamps burning in excess of one or two camping lanterns. Through the windows, Daryl could already tell there were people inside, and he could hear the sounds of conversation drifting out.
"You can have something to eat," the woman said, opening the door of the cabin. "This is what we call the main house. It's where we have meetings and it's where meals are served."
She waved them in and they filtered into the cabin much the same way they'd filtered through the gates. Carol went first and Daryl followed right behind her with T-Dog bringing up the rear. As soon as they stepped into what was likely the living room of the large cabin—now filled with tables nearly wall-to-wall, they had much the same effect on the crowd there as they'd had on the crowd outside. Everyone stopped talking and started to pay very close attention to them.
"I'm startin' to get a complex," Daryl mumbled.
"We don't mean to disturb anyone," Carol offered softly. She wouldn't have to speak loudly for the almost frozen crowd to hear her. It wasn't like anyone else was speaking at the moment. "Please—keep eating."
At her beckoning, people seemed to do just that. There was a light din that picked up, but it was nothing like the noise that Daryl had heard before they'd walked in.
"Sit down," the woman said. "Eat. They'll bring you plates. I'm going to see if I can find our leader. He'll want to talk to you if there's any talking to be done."
"Do you have a name?" Carol asked.
The woman ignored her, though. She simply left, sword in hand, without saying anything more to them. Daryl put his hand on Carol's shoulder and pushed her gently toward an empty table. She understood what he was suggesting and she went and sat down. He took a seat beside her and T-Dog took a seat across from Daryl. Sitting by themselves, for the moment, seemed to be the least disruptive thing they could do.
Daryl tried to remind himself that the people around him didn't mean to be rude. After all, they would hardly be warm and welcoming to someone that just showed up on their doorstep. It was healthy to be suspicious until fears were allayed. It meant that they were careful and not foolish—something that Daryl found comforting when he considered being on the other side of things and belonging to the group rather than being an outsider.
A plate appeared in front of Carol almost immediately. Then one appeared in front Daryl and T-Dog before a fourth plate—piled high with bread—was placed between them. Glasses appeared with a pitcher of water. Two of the women who had placed the food practically scurried off, but another remained. She gestured toward the empty chair next to T-Dog.
"Can I sit?" She asked.
"You live here," Daryl offered. "We don't."
The woman laughed to herself, but she did sit.
"I'm Alice," she said. "And the woman that brought y'all here…"
"Xena," Daryl offered.
Alice seemed to find that amusing.
"Her name's Michonne," Alice said. "But—most people that live here only know that by word of mouth, so don't take it personally. Michonne isn't quick to warm up to people."
"But you are," Daryl responded. The woman shrugged her shoulders.
"I like people. It's a personality trait."
"Personality flaw if you know most people," Daryl offered.
Alice wasn't looking at him. She was watching Carol and Carol was eating like the stew that had been put in front of her was the food of the gods and she'd been starving in some dessert for months. It didn't take more than a moment before Daryl was watching her as intently as the woman was. He hated to admit it, but the soft moans of satisfaction she was making had him somewhat glad that the frisking was over and done with—or he might have had a bit more to disclose to their word-preserving gatekeeper.
"Good to ya?" Daryl asked. His mouth was uncharacteristically dry and he filled his water glass, pretending that the choking sensation was coming from thirst for water and not from the overwhelming interest his body suddenly felt in watching Carol enjoy her way through every morsel of food.
T-Dog was eating, but Daryl had yet to even taste the food. He was sure that he couldn't enjoy it half as much as Carol did. The woman across from Carol offered a piece of bread to Carol, sliding the whole plate in her direction.
"Is that bread?" Carol asked.
"Fresh baked," Alice said.
"Oh!" Carol declared, the sound coming out so suggestively that Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He would have an impossible time explaining to anyone that he'd only just realized that one of his greatest turn ons was, apparently, hearing a woman eat. "This is the first meal that—that I haven't prepared in…"
Carol didn't finish, but she didn't have to. Honestly, the confession made Daryl realize that, though he brought her the food, there had been relatively few times that anyone had reached out to see if she just didn't feel like turning whatever they found into meals.
"Eat up," Alice offered. "Michonne told me about your little one."
Carol hummed. Of course, Daryl was sure the woman was just making conversation. Carol was no longer trying to hide the baby and he wasn't sure she would be as successful at hiding it now as she once had been.
"How far along are you?" Alice asked. "If you don't mind my asking?"
Carol shrugged her shoulders.
"It's hard to say," she said around food. "Since we left—Atlanta? I don't think since the turn. Not that long, but…since we left Atlanta…it could be five months?"
"Six or…or maybe seven," Daryl offered.
"You and your…" Alice gestured toward Daryl and T-Dog piped in.
"Husband," he offered.
Daryl made sure he felt the nudge of his boot under the table.
Alice seemed pleased with the relationship identification, though. Daryl didn't know if it was because she wanted them to be married—if Carol was theoretically pregnant with his child and all—or if it was simply that she liked collecting scraps of information about people.
"You and your husband won't be the only ones expecting here," Alice said. "It's exciting and I don't even think everyone's heard, but our leader and his wife. They have a baby on the way. I mean—she's not very far along. Not at all. Not like you. Really, it's too early to talk about it. I told him that—she's still at a very delicate stage. You know—anything could just happen. But they were too excited to keep it quiet. And it's their news to tell, so it wasn't like anyone could forbid them. So, you won't be the only ones expecting if you stay. And—we've got a lot of people from Atlanta. From Atlanta. From Texas. California, even. All over. You'll see—if you stay."
"If your people let us stay," Daryl said, realizing he better get a word in where he could. "Seems like it isn't up to us."
"Don't let Michonne scare you," Alice said with a laugh. "And don't let anyone else fool you. Once you get to know us and break the ice a little, we're not that hard to get along with."