Brazen Hussy - Gosh, I haven't written much Merle lately, have I? Dear...I should find time to write a Merle chapter...that man deserves it after the rough year he's had.
HGRHfan35 - I was actually a little disappointed. The whole build up was epic, then it sort of fizzled.
GG - Oooh, Merle and Milton bromance...sounds interesting! Challenge accepted.
Ms Q - Milton needs more love. More I say!
Peta2 - Oh, I'm so glad you caught that! This pleases me! ^_^ How very observant you are...kudos! And thanks for the review!
skittletitz - Heh...Milton was kind of a sassy little fucker in his own way, wasn't he?
Axelrocks - I love that this is an AU fic...now I can honour characters who deserve it...(sneaky bastard, I am)
Surplus Imagination - I agree.
AFishNamedSushi - You know, if you don't follow me on tumblr, I've been watching Dallas Roberts movies like a fiend lately, because I was so impressed with Milton as a character and I have to say he's a pretty good actor...subtle in all his roles, but something about him...
MollyMayhem84 - You took the words right out of my mouth on all accounts. The battle was a bust and I was sorely disappointed that that was the Season finale...aren't they supposed to be exciting and thrilling? It was kind of a letdown.
Lilone1776 - I'm a little bit of a latecomer too, but better late than never, I say!
SilverWolf84 - Thanks. I was actually quite nervous writing Milton as he's not in the show enough for me to get a real taste of his character...but I'm glad he seemed spot on to you.
Well, here it is, the chapter you've all been waiting for. Enjoy!
Chapter Sixty: Fleur
**Carol**
Bouncing Judith in her arms gently, Carol cooed and crooned to the baby, smiling as Judith burbled and worked up a few spit bubbles.
Using the dishtowel she kept on her shoulder for such things to wipe away the spittle, she smiled as Judith hiccupped, before mewling.
"I know," she cooed. "Life is rough these days, isn't it?"
Around the kitchen the other women who were working on the midday meal stopped to beam at the baby.
"She's going to be so beautiful," Sasha remarked.
"Her mother was," Carol replied. "She was very beautiful."
"Do you think you'll have anymore, Carol?" Sister Mary Claire asked politely, playing with Judith's little foot.
"Oh, I can't, barely survived having Sophia," she replied. "But I have more than enough baby to love in my arms right now, don't I?" She billed sweetly to Judith.
Everyone paused as Beth entered the kitchen. The poor girl looked pale and lost, but managed a small grin to everyone in the room. "Can I help with anything?" She asked.
"Beth, honey," Grace began.
"It's okay," she interrupted. "I want to help."
Exchanging a quick look with Grace, Carol smiled as the woman invited Beth over to help her prepare the big pot they used for canning.
Glenn had brought back a farmer's cookbook on one of the first runs he made and they found a way to can meat. The women had decided to prepare the tools in case the men brought back another deer.
Giving everyone one last reassuring smiles, Beth went to work cleaning the pots for the canning process.
"You know what we need?" Andrea asked from where Michonne had helped her move into the corner chair where she was out of the way, quietly cleaning her hand gun. "A girl's night."
Half the women laughed at the idea, the nuns unsure what to make of that proposal.
"I don't think I've ever been to a girl's night," Sister Mary Elizabeth said from where she was seated across from Carol mending socks. "What do you do?"
Carol laughed with Sasha as Andrea looked trapped for an explanation.
"Well, normally you eat ice cream and talk about men—"
"And sex." Sister Mary Claire broke in almost excitedly.
As everyone pinned her with a look, the woman turned pink and bowed her head. "I've heard…"
"Sister Mary Claire, is there something you'd like to confess?" Grace asked with a small, cat-like grin.
The nun in question blushed an even deeper shade of pink. "No."
"Speaking of men," Andrea said with a cheeky grin aimed at Carol. "What's going on between you and Daryl? Are you going to forgive him any time soon?"
"I'd make him sweat a little," Sister Mary Agnes stated. "Mean thing he did to you, Carol."
Carol shrugged. "I understand why he did it. That poor man has been neglected his entire life to the point where he doesn't know how to properly handle the things that actually get past his barriers and he acts instead of thinks. I could never make him suffer," she smiled at Judith and added with a wicked grin, "but he is going to have to make a bit of an effort if he still wants me."
"Of course he does," Beth said softly. "Daryl loves you. Everyone knows it. You two don't even have to do anything for us to see it, it's in the way you look at each other."
Grace smiled. "You both speak entire monologues to each other with just one look."
"We understand each other, I think," Carol agreed. "I don't think I've ever felt like I've so completely understood anyone like I understand Daryl."
"Is he good in bed?" Sasha asked.
The entire kitchen burst into laughter as Carol flushed pink and buried her face in Judith's tummy to hide her embarrassment.
"I thought we were doing the girl talk thing!" Sasha defended her question.
"I second that question," Andrea stated. "Between us girls."
"Doesn't leave this kitchen," Sasha swore, holding her right hand up.
Peeking up from where she was silently dying of embarrassment, Carol grinned. "He's sweet in bed." It was true. Daryl was awkward and to be honest he got a little over excited at times, but he tried hard and while he would never admit it to anyone, he was a cuddler in bed, more fond of holding her in his arms then he was of actually having sex with her. She wondered if maybe it was because he felt he had shortcomings when it came to sex or if he was afraid he let her down and wanted to make amends by snuggling her properly. Either way she didn't care. Sex wasn't everything in a good relationship.
"Do you achieve orgasm?" Sister Mary Agnes asked.
Shocked by this question from a nun, Carol glanced over to see Grace's reaction and found the woman holding a hand to her mouth, a wide grin peeking out around the sides of her hand, her eyes bright with mirth.
The secular women all laughed at the question, while the nuns seemed unsure how to react.
"Isn't this proper girl talk?" Sister Mary Agnes asked, honestly confused.
"I haven't had sex in about two years," Sasha admitted, thankfully switching the topic of conversation. "I'm beginning to think it closed up down there."
"Thirty-one," Grace offered suddenly.
"Mother Superior!" Sister Mary Elizabeth gasped.
"Oh, hush up, honey, I'm secular now I can share," Grace stated with a small grin, playfully throwing a dry dishcloth at the young nun.
Mary Elizabeth beamed and grabbed it in mid-air.
"Well, now you have to share details," Andrea said. "That's how the game is played."
"Well," the woman began, shifting a little sheepishly on her feet. "He was the school bad boy—"
"Ooh, yeah girl!" Sasha exclaimed.
Grace beamed shyly. "And it was in the back of his 1970 Buick LeSabre…midnight blue, ding in the front driver's side wheel panel from drag racing…"
"Grace," Beth gasped, momentarily cheered by the woman's tale.
"We never actually went all the way, but…I did enjoy myself."
"Good for you," Carol stated.
"Yeah, good for me! That boy treated me like a princess. Sweet and thoughtful when no one was looking, typical bad boy when they were, but," the woman touched a hand to her throat, "drag racing was his hobby and there's a reason it's outlawed."
Everyone sort of fell silent at the realization that the woman had just confessed her first love had died in what was probably a horrible way.
She smiled then at them. "Beautiful car though."
Carol offered her a sweet smile.
"LeSabre?" The Lieutenant cooed from the doorway, where was leaning casually, listening to the entire story patiently. "Naw, Monte Carlo's where it was at back then, gun metal grey, burgundy interior. Do you ladies talk about us men often?" He asked, moving across the kitchen with his hands full of plucked and cleaned game birds.
"Not often enough anymore," Andrea said.
Dropping the birds off in front of Grace, Carol smiled as the Cajun leaned in to beam proudly at the woman. She pushed him back with the very tip of her finger, leaning away with a frown.
"Good heavens, Lieutenant," Grace scolded. "You're covered in gunk…what on earth were you hunting out there? Mud pies?"
"Oh, the adventures I had," the man replied smoothly. "Unfortunately, I can't stay to chat, it seems I'm the only XY chromosome here and it's making me uncomfortable."
"We're not at all scary, Lieutenant," Andrea pointed out.
The Cajun laughed. "Sure, cats are cute and innocent too until you see them after a canary." Pausing by Carol, the man placed a hand on her shoulder. "Ange, I saw a vagrant hanging about your home outside, think you might want to go and see what's up."
"A vagrant?" She asked.
"Well, he was kind of scruffy and swore a lot, think he was a vagrant…" the man winked at her and continued on out the door.
Carol cooed to Judith softly for about three minutes after the Lieutenant left, very much aware of how many pairs of eyes was on her every move as she did so.
"I can take Judith if you—"
"It's okay," Carol said, interrupting Sister Mary Claire's offer, pulling the infant in closer to her chest. "We're just going to enjoy ourselves a little, aren't we?"
"Atta girl, make him sweat," Sasha said.
"Not making him sweat," Carol said, rubbing her hand up and down Judith's back. "Just making him wait for a bit," she added with a sly grin.
..-~-..
..-~-..
By the time she ventured out of the kitchens, heading around the back of the dorms for the storage shed, the sun was high in the sky, beating a heat reminiscent of the Georgian summer on her shoulders. Spying Daryl kneeling on the east side of their shed, she slowed her approach, watching as he rigged up some kind of netting made out of thin nylon rope for a Cherokee rose vine he was planting to cling to.
She smiled a little as he carefully settled the vine on the netting, getting it started in its new home on the east side of the shed.
Folding her arms she assumed a strict pose as he glanced over his shoulder.
Finding her there, he wiped his dirty hands off on the ass of his pants and stood up, motioning to the rose he planted a little nervously.
Despite trying hard to give him a bit of a rough time in making up, Carol felt a small grin touch her lips.
Daryl bowed his head coyly and sniffed. "Thought they'd…you'd like 'em. Figure we could plant maybe a few more…get them climbing the wall. It'll look real pretty once they fill out and bloom in the spring and fall."
The sound of his rough rasp sounding so timid broke her heart a little and offered him a larger grin.
He gave her one of his crooked, unsure smirks in return.
"Hell," he began gently, "I need you."
She didn't care that they were standing in the middle of the convent's yard, that anyone could see, Carol practically leapt at him, pressing her body against his, her mouth against his mouth.
Daryl's arms wrapped around her so tight she felt he would break a rib, but she didn't care one bit. The tightness of his grip on her was apology enough for what he did.
He kissed her back so carefully, so tenderly that when they finally parted she realized that tears were welling in her eyes and sought hide them from him.
Daryl kept one arm wrapped around her, the other moving to tilt her chin up so he could peer down at her.
"Those happy tears? I can't tell," he said.
She beamed at him. "Yeah."
"Good," he said. "Hey, I didn't mean what I said about you crying, darling." He whispered. "I didn't mean any of what I said."
She buried her head against his chest and nodded, tears falling.
Daryl pressed a kiss to her temple and ran his hand down her back. "I'll never make you cry again," he swore firmly. "I won't do it."
She hugged him harder, before pulling away to pin him with a stern look, tears still clinging to her eyelashes. "You better not," she stated. "It's a nasty habit."
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm a mean man."
"Not so mean," she said, pressing her cheek back against his chest, snuggling into the warmth and scent of him, wrapping herself up in Daryl Dixon. "You brought me roses and you make me happy."
"Except when I make you cry," he argued.
"I cry easily," she said. "I wouldn't worry too much about it."
He pressed another kiss to her temple, before catching her lips with his.
"Okay," she said with a small grin. "You can come back home."
"Just like that?" He asked.
She laughed. "Were you expecting me to make you walk through glass barefoot?"
"No."
"Leave me again over something stupid and I'll never come back," she pointed out calmly. "Simple as that."
He dipped his head. "Yeah."
Reaching up with her hand, she playfully tugged at the grey patch of scruff on his chin and laughed. She could easily recall a time when Daryl Dixon actually scared her, he was so rough and mean-tempered, that the first time she laid eyes on him she actually pulled Sophia in a little closer to her, not just to protect her daughter but to comfort herself.
Now? Now he was the only man in the world she knew would never hurt her. Now he was the only man in the world she trusted to keep her safe, to keep her happy. Laying her head against his shoulder, she pondered a way to put into words the way he made her feel.
Love seemed too vapid for the feelings she had for him.
Lust was too vulgar.
Respect was too tame.
Admiration was too old fashioned.
Maybe there wasn't a word for how she felt for Daryl, maybe a word wasn't what really mattered. She didn't need to label it, because it just was.
Feeling him rest his cheek on the top of her head brought a whole new wave of tears to her eyes.
He needed her.
God, she never realized what she meant to him, not really. Daryl played his cards close to his chest, she knew why. It kept him safe.
But just knowing he needed her and feeling how hard he held her, she cried anew.
Carol wasn't as weak as she used to be, but she wasn't as strong as Michonne or Andrea, but she knew one thing for certain, she would tear any man clear to the ground should he ever hurt Daryl, with the fury only a wild hellcat could possess.
As much as the man would never admit it, he needed protecting too and since they were partners, mates, she wouldn't hesitate.
What was it about the man that made her feel so primal, so much like a she-wolf?
Pulling away, she stared into his smoky blue eyes and smirked.
Maybe it was because he was so feral himself.
The Cajun Dialect
Fleur - Flower