Author's note: first few chapters are really short; later ones will be longer.
Guess I should mention: the threat from Woodbury has evaporated (overrun with walkers?), Andrea and Merle are at the prison, and Tyreese's crew and Michonne, aren't. Now that we've got that sorted…
Thanks to my lovely reviewers. I'm so glad you're enjoying it – even the Carylers!
Onwards…
Once she seriously started contemplating the idea of having sex with Merle Dixon, Carol began to lay plans.
Though she did not consider herself to be the most attractive woman in their group, an appellation that surely went to Andrea, she was not too concerned about whether or not Merle would be interested; whether or not she was his type. She was a woman and she had a pulse, ergo she was Merle Dixon's type. And if she had any doubts about her ability to seduce Merle, being long years out of practice, they were instantly quashed by imagining Daryl's voice in her head, giving her advice. "Yer overthinkin' it. Just wear a low-cut top and put ya hand on his knee and Merle'll take care of the rest."
She was not too fussed, either, about whether or not she was attracted to Merle. She had put up with Ed all those years, and it was a sorry reflection on that choice that someone like Merle could possibly be seen as an improvement. But he had a certain rough charm, when he chose to exercise it, and he was a fit healthy man with a muscular body. People used the expression "men have needs". Well women had them too, and she was sure that once they got started, nature would take its course. And if it proved a little recalcitrant, well… there was always lubricant.
No, the real questions were those of when, and where, and how did they get any privacy in a place where no one could disappear for a few hours without telling someone where they were going. And would Merle behave like a prick about it afterwards, disrespect her, and tease "Darylena" about having been around her for a year and still not having dipped his wick when it had only taken Merle five minutes to rustle up some sugar; or would he know when he was onto a good thing and keep his trap shut, or at least not swinging too freely, in the hopes of a repeat performance? Well, that was something she had no control over, so she'd just have to cross her fingers, if not her legs.
But when, and where, and how. Those were things within her jurisdiction. And she had learned from life with Ed that sometimes the best way to hide something was within plain view.
"Pass the beans," Daryl said brusquely as everyone served themselves at supper one evening. Carol had already portioned out the meat, and they were enjoying being able to choose from an unusual abundance of "fresh" vegetables, including green beans. Maggie and Glenn had come across a treasure trove of frozen goods in a small remote cabin that still had its solar power system working. The sun did not stop shining for something as insignificant as a worldwide zombie apocalypse.
"You forgot the magic word, baby bro," Merle scolded him with broad bonhomie. "Please. P-L-E-E-Z. Ain't that how it's spelled, Carl?"
Carl smiled a little uncertainly. He was not used to Merle being friendly. His last experiences of Merle had been back at the quarry, when Merle's behaviour had been predictable only in that it depended on what he had lately ingested from his stash, and was almost always loud and unpleasant. It had given Shane the opportunity to reinforce the "drugs are bad" message to Carl. Like Carl was really gonna get the opportunity to ever try anything. Grownups.
"Don't it got an "e" on the end?" Axel chipped in.
"Please pass the fuckin' beans," Daryl amended, even more tersely, and Carol's lips twitched. It seemed that the grumpier Daryl got, the more Merle enjoyed stirring the possum.
Carol had bathed before supper, and had taken "mental Daryl's" advice on wearing the lowest cut top she had. It was still quite demure, but she had noticed earlier, when she had taken care to lean forward as she passed a bowl across the table to Merle, that his eyes had automatically tracked the shadows of her cleavage. Men. Sometimes they were as predictable as night following day.
She had chosen the time after supper as the best possible window of opportunity for H-Hour based on several reasons.
It would be the easiest time of day to get a little privacy; Carl would soon be off to bed, Beth should be pre-occupied with getting Li'l Ass.. Judith down for the night. Maggie and Glenn would be off … doing whatever it was Maggie and Glenn did. Hershel would be studying his Bible for a while before putting out his lamp. Andrea slept early these days, usually being assigned the midnight watch. Daryl was scheduled on shift up in the watchtower, and Rick would speak with him for a few minutes before going off to check the perimeter. And Axel was… well it didn't really matter what Axel was doing.
Since all the tasks for the day would be finished, there would be no reason for any interruptions, and hopefully both she and Merle would be relaxed and able to concentrate on the task in hand. So to speak.
And, importantly, it being the end of the day, Merle would have cleaned up and showered before the meal. There was nothing like walker gunk splattered over a person to lower one's libido.
The company ate in silence for a while, savouring the good meal. Despite her prosaic approach to the evening's plans, Carol did not feel quite as serene as she appeared, and she took several slow deep breaths before quietly coming out with it.
"Merle, are you free after supper?"
Merle looked at her in surprise. It seemed to her there was some wariness there too, but it was hard to tell. "Maybe… ." he rasped. "Why?"
"I want to re-arrange some of the stores on the upper shelves in one of the pantries. I could do with a hand."
Merle's blue gaze narrowed and hardened, and she realised how badly she'd phrased that. For once Axel's over-enthusiastic blundering-in was a welcome diversion.
"I could help you with that Carol. I'm free," he offered eagerly.
Carol thought quickly and answered smoothly, "Well thank you Axel, but I need someone tall. I think Merle's the tallest one here." She nodded towards him. The others watched carefully, surprised at anyone other than Rick asking Merle to do anything. Daryl was the only who ignored the interplay entirely, focussing on far more important things like the food in front of him.
Merle dropped his fork beside his plate and leaned back in his seat, spreading out his long limbs and resting his arms along his thighs. "Do I have to?" he said, voice rising in pitch, sounding more like a whiney kid than Carl ever had.
"No of course not Merle," Carol replied, unperturbed, lifting one shoulder, "I can just give that extra helping of plum crisp to any other tall person who'd like to volunteer."
"Plum crisp?" Merle's face changed suddenly. His eyes lit up, he leaned forward, cocked his head and went very still. Carol wasn't sure quite how a man of his size and demeanour could suddenly look so much like an excited twelve year old. "We got plum crisp?"
"Mmn," Carol answered quietly. "That's what's for afters. " She waited a moment then added deliberately, "with custard."
"Well, I…uh. Guess I could help you out." He shrugged then leaned back in the chair again, carefully nonchalant. "Got nuthin' better to do."
"Well thank you Merle. But you know, you're really helping the group out, not just me."
"Yeah, whatever," he replied, moving a shoulder dismissively, but couldn't hide his anticipation for dessert.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDT WDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTW DTWD
To be continued…