sammipoop - You excited about something? (I keed!)
Brazen Hussy - I won't hear a peep out of you this go around...no Merle in sight. At all. *le sigh*
crystal2817 - The only way I'll take my Daryl Dixon, awkward and sweet.
skittletitz - Haha! The thought of Annie shipping Caryl made me giggle...also, you're too kind with your comments as to my writing style. I'm highly flattered...but in all honesty I was more excited to hear that you enjoyed the kiss. ^_^
AFishNamedSushi - I honestly think if Carol ever grabbed Daryl and kissed him like that his head would explode. He'd be so confused and unsure he would literally just pop like a zit.
Surplus Imagination - Haha, poor Merle, God bless him he's trying to get him some nun...he's kind of a horndog.
carylfan - Annie should just ask all the hard hitting questions...get it over with. She seems to be on the right track...make Daryl uncomfortable, make Carol think. ^_^
Lokislady - Aw, thanks for the review. You are too kind! I'm glad you enjoyed the Caryl scene...I was actually pretty nervous writing it.
GG - You wanted the Mother Superior stumbling over a Cajun, you got it! Enjoy this chapter and thanks for the review!
HGRHfan35 - I ship the Rick and Daryl bromance so hard. They are just too cute together as buds. And yeah, Andrew Lincoln is pretty adorable himself...I actually (originally) started watching the show just for him...and then Norman showed up and said 'son of a bitch' and I was smitten. I can love both men, right? No law says I can't. Hey, thanks for this review and the others. They are much appreciated.
Lilone1776 - I just want Daryl and Rick and the Lt to be together on a bed and I just want us to roll around...bromance threeway complete with pillow fight! ...it's late and I apologize.
Axelrocks - I really don't want the Lt to go the way Rick is going...I would take it so hard. Also, Daryl is too cute with kids. Even the scenes he has with Carl makes me go 'aw'. Big softie that he is...
We really need to think of a better word for taco. I mean smutty people just ruined the word for me...
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Cocodinde
**Old Missy**
Watching from the window in her cell as the other nuns moved across the lawns in the early hours of the morning, heading for their morning mass, the Mother Superior held her sweater closed as though it were her last vestige of protection against the evils that lurked outside the walls of her convent.
Turning dull blue-green eyes on the simple cross that hung over the cot where Annie slept restlessly, the woman contemplated joining the other nuns in prayer, but she didn't have the strength to move.
She had confided to Lafayette the night before that God had abandoned them, that if he ever existed, he had turned his back on the pious women for some unknown reason. Maybe it was a punishment of sorts.
Maybe it had been her fault, that she wasn't righteous enough.
She had slept fitfully last night, the night before she hadn't slept at all. Images and smells of the assault were imprinted on her and they wafted across her senses every time she closed her eyes.
Realizing she wanted some form of conversation to remove the thoughts from her mind for the time being, she turned from the window and headed to the door, pulling it open, dumping a form onto the hard stone floor of her cell.
The soldier stretched and retracted like a giant earthworm, groaning and hugging his knees to his chest in an effort to make his long form smaller against the cold of the floor, failing due to a bottle of half-drunk wine that he hugged tightly that prevented him from curling up completely.
Moving her bare feet back from the man, she eyed him for a minute, before turning her eyes on the cross again.
Was this what had become of her? Surrounded by people she didn't know, tripping over Cajun men who haunted the doorway into her room, trying to get a child to calm herself from the nightmares that tormented her during the dark of night.
She may have been the victim of lingering fear and displacement, but she wouldn't tolerate someone breaking her rules.
Kneeling, she rolled Lafayette over onto his back and reached for the wine, their communion wine she noted with a dry cock of her brow. The Cajun gripped it tightly and muttered something in his silly French to her.
Frowning, she shook his shoulder firmly.
"Lafayette?" She whispered, afraid of waking the child on the cot.
The Cajun rolled over, holding the bottle in a death grip.
Eyeing the boyishly tousled dark hair that fell across the man's brow and the way he looked so troubled in his sleep, the Mother Superior backed off clutching her sweater shut and contemplating the situation. She eyed the dark freckle that hung just under his bottom lip and the few and far between others that peppered his face and neck. They weren't the myriad of red freckles that a red head would possess, but the dark sparsely scattered freckles that only those with fair skin seemed to gather.
She reached for his shoulder, pulling him onto his back again. "Lieutenant?" She whispered a little louder, eyeing Annie on the cot.
The girl had trouble sleeping most nights, which made the woman reluctant to wake her when she actually found sleep.
Annie continued sleeping, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
With her hand on his vest, the Mother Superior shook the Cajun a little rougher. "Lafayette. This is getting ridiculous now. Up!"
The man caught her hand and nuzzled his stubbled cheek against it with a content smile. "Jolie catin," he mumbled happily, rolling over again with her hand still in his grip.
Deciding she had enough of his nonsense, the nun used her free hand to smack the Lieutenant hard on the side of the head.
He shot up, bottle rolling from his lap onto the stone floor, thankfully keeping intact as it rolled across her cell floor towards the simple chifferobe she had tucked her habit inside.
"Get up," she commanded.
Lafayette held his head just between his eyebrows with both hands, grunting.
Getting to her feet, the Mother Superior looked down at the mess of a Cajun with lively eyes. "You'd better have a good reason for breaking my rules on men inside my dorms," the woman stated coldly.
He gave her a look out of the corner of his bloodshot eye. "Did you have to hit me, cher?"
"You're lucky that's all I do to you, you ridiculous man," she whispered harshly.
Watching the man struggle to get to his feet, she sighed heavily and crossed her arms.
"Is this what's become of us? Drunks and sinners?" She demanded, ushering him out into the hall, snatching the wine on her way out. "Lord help the woman who has to put up with you…"
Stumbling gracelessly into the hall, the Lieutenant gave her a sheepish look. "I underestimated the strength of your fortified wine, honeychild." He pointed out, flashing her a crooked grin.
"None of that, come on, you're going to get your hinder into that kitchen and sober up before the others see you." She ordered, pushing him in the direction of the kitchens, hand firmly on his arm just above the elbow. "Can't be babysitting Annie and you," she went on. "Lord knows the world has gone to seed…"
Staggering into the kitchen, the Cajun startled Carol and Beth who were inside preparing the morning meal, the two women jumped a little as the door cracked against the wall behind it.
"Sorry," the Lieutenant apologized, giving the Mother Superior a startled look as she shoved him down onto a chair and set the bottle of wine on the counter.
"In all my life," she began pouring him a hefty helping of well water into a glass, "I've never met a man so silly as you." Slamming the glass down, she eyed him. "Drink this. All of it."
He obediently downed the water.
"I mean the nerve of you," she went on, "sleeping outside my door like some flea-riddled hound from the backwoods. Look at you, all scruffy and rough. Wouldn't take you in if you were an alley cat."
He touched a hand to his hair and attempted to smooth it, still grinning at her with his charming smile. "I can just tamp it down a wee bit."
"I suppose you think that's funny?"
He beamed wider, flashing her handsome, even teeth. "I was hoping it'd get a smile at least."
"You're incorrigible," she stated.
"If that means quick witted and winsome, then I'd be inclined to agree." He replied, trying to straighten his uniform.
Huffing, the Mother Superior wondered what to do with the man. He really was a stray cat.
"I see you have your fire back," he pointed out. "Good thing to have, yeah?"
"I swear I don't know what to do with you," she argued.
Pushing to his feet shakily, the Cajun nodded. "Sounds about right on par with what my Mamere used to say." He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. "I'm going to head for a nap before the sun slams up, my head feels like it's in a vice. Can I use the floor in front of your door again or do I have permission to crawl in with the wee boo?"
Knowing how the little one loved sharing a bed with the towering soldier, the Mother Superior hesitated, knowing she'd be allowing the man into her bed. Usually Annie crawled into bed with the Lieutenant in his garden shed on nights when she had her worst nightmares. It wouldn't matter much if he slept in her bed without her, would it?
"I'm sure she'd like that." She replied, watching the man head for the door. "Just stay out of my chifferobe."
"What would I find?" He called out over his shoulder. "Something red and lacy?"
Gasping at his audacity, the nun touched hand to her mouth, casting a fearful look at the two other women present.
"I burned that thing!" She shouted after him. Turning apologetic eyes on the two other women, she briefly wondered where the man got his sudden cheek from.
Imagine! Her missing early morning mass and having some Cajun teasing her about the kinds of underwear only fancy ladies would be caught working in! What was the world coming to?
"Sorry about that, that man can be a handful."
Carol beamed. "He's a good man to have around though, isn't he?"
"Can't deny that," the Mother Superior, heading towards the two women. "Bad for the heart though."
"I'm familiar with the type," the woman replied.
Smiling at the woman, the Mother Superior moved to stand at her side, helping her. "We are lucky, aren't we? Men like that need us more than we need them at times, don't they? It's nice to be needed."
Carol made a small sound in the back of her throat, but otherwise said nothing.
..-~-..
..-~-..
Immersing herself in work that morning, she headed out to the water pump with the plastic container for more water for the kitchen, when she came across that tall man from Daryl's group.
The leader, as far as she knew, though they hadn't met formally, she had seen him out her window talking with his people, walking their wall like he didn't trust anyone other than himself to do it.
The man stood by the pump, gazing out into the middle distance, hands on his hips.
Quietly setting down the jug, she gave the water pump a few good shoves, eyes on her task.
"You're in charge here," he stated moving to stand beside her, quietly taking over the task of pumping for her.
Standing back the Mother Superior eyed him. He had kind eyes, but looked like a good wind would blow him over.
"I don't know about that. I used to be, yes."
Nodding, the man kept at his task.
"I think lately we're better off letting the Lieutenant call the shots, he's more trained for these kinds of situations." She went on.
"You trust him?" He returned straightening once the jug was full.
"I've never had a moment where I didn't trust him," she said. "He showed up, straddling our wall like some kind of child all smiles and warmth, never thought he could be anything but a man who truly cares about others."
"I'm sorry about your people," he said.
"As am I. But the sisters are strong, we'll prevail."
Nodding, the man sighed.
Feeling for the way he looked absolutely crushed by the world, wanting to comfort him for the way his face seemed to hold no hope, the Mother Superior reached out and calmly touched his hand, sandwiching it between hers.
"I had given up hope the other day," she said. "Before a Cajun man told me that we as a group are only as strong as our weakest link, that in an effort for the good people of this new world to survive and outlive the wicked, we must be prepared to carry on our humanity. Uphold what is good and righteous about man, because we are all we have. Your group and ours are good people, together we are strong, apart we are weak. I'm not saying you must join us or us you, but I need you to understand that we are friends and allies. That your group means as much to us as our own people. Lafayette is prepared to fight your battle because he believes in proving to you that he wants to be companions while we rebuild the world and I'm prepared to shelter and care for your people for as long as you need. We're not different, we're just from different clans."
The man eyed her for a moment, before he seemed to lose all tension in his body. He gripped her hand with his free one, staring her in the eyes.
"Rick Grimes," he introduced.
"Grace Harper, used to be anyways," she returned. "It's an honour to meet you, Mr. Grimes. And pardon me for saying this, but you could use a shave and a good night's sleep."
Rick was quiet for a moment, staring at her intensely, before nodding. "You sound like my wife." His voice broke a little when he said this, but he cleared his throat strongly.
Running her hand over his bicep warmly, she beamed. "Come on, honey. You look like a good wind'll knock you over." She urged, picking up the heavy jug despite the man trying to take it for her. "I broke one rule regarding men inside the dorms this morning, I don't think I'll be punished for breaking it again. Come on, you look like you need a warm bed and a good, long rest."
"I don't—"
"Come along, Mr. Grimes, you need your sleep to keep your strength up. You're no good to anyone in this state."
He lingered by the pumps.
Sighing, she turned back to him. "No one argues with me, Mr. Grimes, it does no good. I've been told I'm stubborn as a mule. Come along now." Returning, she used her free hand to gently nudge and push the man in the direction of the back door that led into the dormitory kitchen. "We'll get you settled and safe in a free dorm, when you wake you can bathe and shave. I will not tolerate scruffy men hanging about my convent grounds scaring the Sisters."
The Cajun Dialect
Cocodinde – Freckle