Alright. To start out- my life has been pretty goddamn interesting. At school, I was discussing an experiment I wanted to do with him. Someone asked me where I'd learned about said experiment, and I mentioned i'd learned it from the Anarchist's cookbook. The next thing I know, my school is suspending me for a supposed 'bomb threat'.
Needless to say, if i screw up again, my Dad will take away my martial arts tournaments. But anyways- that's pretty much my life right now. Meh- what the hell- it's my life, and I'll have fun living it.
He woke up to the sunlight spilling through the window onto his face and rubbed his eyes, stretching. Jamie shifted but made no move towards wakefulness from where she was curled up beside him, and he quietly sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and lacing up his boots, before heading to the bathroom to rinse the morning taste from his mouth, as well as put on a belt.
From there he stepped back into the room, shaking Jamie slightly. "Hey. Time to get up."
"Mmhmm..." she rolled over to facing the wall.
"You'd get up pretty damn fast if I said there was walkers." Daryl grumbled.
"Hant no halkers neer." Jamie muttered, face smushed in a pillow so he couldn't understand a word she was trying to say.
"Hey- speak english." Daryl ordered, as he pried the pillow from her grasp. She looked up at him sleepily, annoyed, hair everywhere.
"Ain't no walkers here." she said calmly, before her head was back down on the mattress.
"Hey- none a that. Up." Daryl ordered.
"Rrmmmm..."
Her complaint turned into an indignant squeak as he yanked the covers off, revealing a pair of socks that were more grey than white with holes in the bottom, wrinkled jeans, and an old t-shirt.
"Now c'mon. I figured we'd set snares today."
Jamie muttered something he chose to ignore as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, pulling on her boots and smacking her lips, wondering at the peculiar taste in her mouth.
" 'nd brush your teeth. God knows Carol would beat my ass if you got a cavity or some shit..."
She rolled her eyes, finishing lacing her boots and moving to grab her vest, tugging it over her shoulders before slinging her quiver over her shoulder, moving to grab her bow.
Daryl stopped talking, seeing as she was ready, and they trooped downstairs.
Carol gave a knowing look as their booted feet clattered on the staircase. She looked up from where she'd been making pancakes, nodding to them. "No weapons at the table."
Jamie leaned her bow against the staircase, placing the quiver beside it, and Daryl did the same before they took their places at the table.
Glenn offered them a smile and a nod which they returned, and Rick looked up from where he'd been feeding Judith long enough to smile before turning back to his task.
"Have a good sleep?" Maggie asked from where she'd been tending a frying pan full of sausage.
Jamie nodded, looking slightly excited when Maggie made sure her meat was still bloody before giving it to her. Everyone here cooked everything far too long- only Maggie and Carol knew how to cook it right.
"Thanks." she said, digging into her sausage, and she meant it. Maggie smiled, wrinkling her nose slightly as a bit of bloody grease dribbled down Jamie's chin. She long since grown used to the girl's liking of bloody meat, but it was always a sort of ordeal to watch the rednecks eat, though she nonetheless enjoyed it. It was hard to find people who appreciated whatever they were given like they did.
Daryl had poured himself a cup of black coffee- he still wasn't used to having coffee. Damn, he'd missed it.
Carol came around to dish out pancakes, swatting Jamie's hand when she reached for one with her hand. Still, when she thought no one was looking, she'd slipped a dash of sugar into the girl's plate, and Jamie smiled down at her food, saying nothing but making sure she stirred the sugar into the butter topping the pancakes, as everyone pretended not to notice.
Glen looked up from his glass of orange juice. "So, anyone got any plans for the day?"
Jamie looked over at Daryl, who shrugged. "Gonna set a few snares. You?"
Glenn shrugged. "Working with Aidan on supply runs." he said calmly. Jamie's glare intensified as she stared down. She didn't like Aidan- he was over confident, cocky, and arrogant. He was going to get someone killed.
"You-" Glenn pointed his fork at her, stopping mid-sentence to swallow his bite of pancake. "Need to stop scaring the residents of this retirement colony."
Jamie snickered, and a few others laughed.
Glenn smiled. "Seriously, though- try and make a friend. I know they're all... not like us- but hey, it never hurts to try. You might like what you find."
Jamie shrugged. She hated talking to people here, honestly, let alone the other kids- it was just like at the prison. She'd never fit in with the others.
"Where's Carl? His pancakes are gettin' cold." Maggie said, sounding concerned, as she set the frying pan to the side and sat down beside Glenn to eat her own breakfast.
Rick sighed. "Didn't want to get up. Teenagers..."
Jamie gave him a wiry grin that he returned.
"I wish I could take him outside the fence more- god knows he can't forget how to survive. But he wants to go to school- so he will. Maybe I'll send him out with you someday, just to keep him sharp..."
"Extra pair a' eyes is always welcome." Daryl agreed calmly, and Rick nodded his thanks.
Jamie finished off her last bite of breakfast, and Daryl nodded to her. "Go sign out our guns, will ya?"
"Prickly bitches running this place don't let me. Say I'm too young."
Daryl frowned at the information, and Rick nodded to her. "Tell 'em Rick sent you. I'll have a talk with Deanna later, god knows you're old enough to carry, let alone sign out a weapon..."
Jamie nodded, stepping outside the screen door and vaulting over the porch railing, landing lightly on the grass and heading towards the armory.
The adults at the table exchanged glances.
"They won't let her sign out her own gun?" Carol asked, voice stony and eyes fiery.
"I'll speak to Deanna about it."
"I already did. She doesn't like Jamie having her bow, for starters, and I don't think she'll give on this, either." Maggie said, sounding frustrated.
"They don't have to understand Jamie. They don't even have to like her- but she is one of us, and she'll be treated like it. I'll go down and talk to Deanna."
"Rick- she really doesn't like it. She says if we give Jamie special privileges, the other kids will want them..."
"Well none of the other kids go outside the fence. So they've got no reason to have a gun anyways." Glenn said, voice steely.
"Don't raise hell over this. We've got enough differences as it is with these people- let's not make Jamie an issue." Daryl said simply. " 'sides, as long as I'm with her, they'll give her a gun and let her outside the fence."
"Let them think she's young. It'll work for her advantage- they'll underestimate her, and if she gets into trouble, she'll be able to overpower them. They always underestimate the kids. Let it be for now." Carol said calmly, sitting down beside Daryl.
"You okay with that for a plan?" Rick asked Daryl. Daryl nodded calmly. The matter was settled.
There was the sound of boots on the porch steps, and Jamie stepped back inside.
"They give 'em to ya?" Daryl asked, looking up. Jamie nodded, smiling, as she pulled Daryl's pistol from her waistband and put it on the table.
"Anybody give you a hard time?" Rick asked, looking up curiously.
Jamie nodded. "The lady won't give 'em to me at first. Then I threw your name out there and she finally gave 'em to me."
Rick grinned slightly, a bit triumphant, and Jamie nodded to Daryl, pulling her own gun from her waistband and loading it. "You ready?"
Daryl finished the last of his coffee and nodded. "Lemme go grab the wire for the snares. I'll meet you by the gate. Don't wave your gun around none, neither. People get scared."
"Fucking liberals."
Rick smirked slightly, and Daryl chose to ignore the comment as he went to grab the supplies, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly.
"Think there's anything good?" Jamie asked, looking dubiously at the barn. It'd long since begun falling apart, grave-vines overtaking the collapsed roof and moss bleeding through the rotted sides.
Daryl shook his head. "Probably just shit. But someone coulda been holed up in there I guess... Take the perimeter, see if there's anything useful. Maybe some tolls or something..."
She nodded, shouldering her bow and pulling out her pistol. She crept around the side of the barn as Daryl ducked inside, intent on searching the dingy darkness by himself.
She stopped when she was half-way around, hearing a noise. It was faint- it didn't sound like a walker- but she could still hear it. A faint smacking sound.
She peered around the corner to see a scraggly mass of black fur crouched in the dirt, tearing some meat off a small bird. It was a cat.
She raised her gun instinctively- if they'd been on the road, it'd have been a welcome meal. But she lowered her pistol when she realized they had enough food- there wasn't any point in killing it. And besides- the animal was skinny enough it wouldn't have been worth much anyways.
She stepped hesitantly towards it, and the cat looked up from the pitiful meal, a deep rumble escaping it's throat as it growled, back arching. It glowered at her from it's one green eye.
She wordlessly freed a squirrel from her belt, hacking off the rear and tossing it a few feet away. The torn up ears perked forwards- the squirrel was much more promising than the scant bird, and the cat moved towards it, taking slow, deliberate steps before settling back on its haunches and eating, watching her distrustfully the whole time.
All too soon, the skinny animal finished off the hindquarters and look up at her. She set the front half of the kill in front of her, waiting.
The cat padded closer, lowering it's head after staring at her long and hard to begin the meal. The thin body stiffened when she reached out to pet him, but soon relaxed as it tore into the food.
She managed to pick it up, stroking the furry head. The animal hissed, and she wordlessly held the hunk of squirrel in front of it. The cat again forgot about her, tearing into the meal.
Daryl ducked out of the barn, squinting in the harsh sunlight at first before seeing Jamie sitting with something on her lap. At first he thought she'd killed it, but as he grew closer he realized she was actually feeding a skinny looking cat.
"Where'd you find him?" Daryl asked, and she looked up, surprised. The car had wrapped his jet-black forepaws around the hand that held the squirrel, and was mercilessly tearing away bits of bloody meat and sinew.
"Was trying to make a meal out of that." she said, nodding towards the dead sparrow.
"Poor bastard. He missing an eye?"
Jamie nodded. "He's an old fighting tom. Ears all ripped up, covered in fleas, missing an eye. Can we keep him?"
Daryl been expecting that, honestly. Anything Jamie didn't kill she seemed to bond with, and he nodded when she looked up hopefully. "Don't see why not. They got dogs in Alexandria. 'Sides, he's useful. Had to be one hell of a hunter to make it this far."
Jamie nodded wordlessly. The cat had finished off most of the squirrel, and she rubbed it's head absently. Deep within the cat's throat, a rattling, rumbling sound came- purring. It sounded like a broken car engine, but she honestly didn't mind.
"You gonna name him?" Daryl asked quietly.
Jamie looked surprised for a moment before she nodded. "Mo." she said firmly.
"Where'd you get Mo from?"
"My Dad used to know this really rough dude- was a trucker. Got shot twice, when somebody tried to hijack his rig, and he was always getting into bar fights and shit. But whenever he was in town, he'd come over for Sunday dinner, and he was real nice to us kids. Always had a good story to tell. His name was Mo."
Daryl nodded. "He does look like a Mo." he said seriously, before breaking into a grin.
Jamie elbowed him as he started to laugh, smiling self-consciously. "Shut up. I think Mo's a good name for a cat."
"Even a one-eyed cat, who's git torn up ears and smells like a pile of shit?"
"Yes. Because the other Mo didn't smell too good either."
Daryl chuckled and stood. " 'S got a nice ring to it, I'll give you that. Mo the pirate cat- bet he can catch a mouse like nobody's business. Carol might like him."
"He's mine. I named him." Jamie protested.
"Alright, alright. I was just thinkin' out loud. Now c'mon- it's getting about time to head back anyways."
They headed back to Alexandria, ducking through the gate just as darkness overtook the dusk. Rick nodded to them from where he stood in his constable's jacket, and Daryl saw the way his gaze lingered and realized he wanted to talk about the current... situation... of them being unable to get their guns without permission.
Daryl nodded to Jamie, eyes taking on a distant look. "Go on back to the house. I'll be there in a minute."
Jamie nodded, not really paying much attention to Daryl at the moment. The minute she walked through the door, Mo leapt down from her arms, spreading out on the carpet like he owned the place.
"Tough little bastard, huh? You own anyplace where your feet touch the ground." she said, smiling. Mo peered up at her with his one good green eye before starting to lick his matted black fur, at ease knowing there were no undead around.
At that moment it hit her- this place was beginning to feel a lot more like a home.