skittletitz - You magnificent bastard. Your Dallas Roberts poster was perhaps the high point of my year. (check it out at my tumblr blog kiddos, it's hilarious).
MollyMayhem84 - Don't think I'm not trying to off her...I'm working on it. Have my top people on that task first and foremost. ^_^
Lilone1776 - That is the question, isn't it?
Ms Q - Just for you, because you may be fairly new to reviewing this story, but you've been kind. I've inserted a Merle slap in this chapter. So enjoy. ^_^
Axelrocks - I know it's not what everyone wants to hear, but the next chapter after this one is another Milton POV again. But I swear the one after that is Daryl! Promise!
spygrrl99 - Yeah, it was a shame when he went, wasn't it? I need him alive and well in this story...because what's fanfiction if not a means to keep your favourite characters alive and kicking?
HGRHfan35 - You must be European, huh? Yeah, not a lot of the European classics over here in North America, but classic American cars are beautiful...all classic cars are, really.
Newsqueen123 - Actually now that you've brought the subject up again, you know who would make a good Lt. (imho) Richard Armitage. Yeah. Finally found someone who looked how I pictured him...this is a good day for me. Your suggestion was pretty good too, though. Hey, you all can picture him how you want! I'm easy with that idea.
Tigerlily xoxo - Did...? Did you call me a 'sneaky bitch'? I...why? Thanks for the review! If you want smut there's eighty billion other stories that have it written in and the 'we' you speak of probably just go there to read smut instead.
ldyjaydin - Well I honestly enjoyed the oneshot. Once this story is done I'd love to get to the multi-chapter (I don't read other people's fanfiction while writing my own to avoid being accused to stealing ideas...sometimes ignorance is bliss). But I swear as soon as this is done, I'm there to read it.
Well, you all wanted a Merle POV chapter and you've got it. What you do with it is your own business.
Chapter Sixty-Two: Derrière
**Merle**
"Mr. Dixon, I think you've got your hand on my undercarriage by mistake."
It was nearing nightfall and Merle had been passing by under the wall where Sister Joan was trying to climb down. Being a gentleman he naturally moved to help her. But with only one hand, had no choice but to support her in an awkward (enjoyable) way.
Merle smirked as he eased her onto the ground. "My bad," he said.
The nun eyed him for a moment, before tsking at his actions. "You're a hound dog," she scolded.
"Of course not," he protested with a grin. "I'm a gentleman for helping you down from the wall."
"Keep your hand off my derrière and you'd be the perfect gentleman, Mr. Dixon."
Merle maneuvered her against the wall, setting his wicked hand beside her head and leaning down with a chuckle. "Would you feel better if I said it was firm as a little apple?"
"I should slap your mouth for saying such things, Mr. Dixon," the woman stated.
"Aw, come on now, don't be so cruel, it's the end of the world and it'd be a shame for a pretty thing like you to go unappreciated." He said.
"I'm a woman of God, you can't say such lustful things to me."
"Lustful? Honey, nothing wrong with doing what nature intended men and women to do together," Merle cooed.
"Pray?" She asked, clearly misunderstanding him on purpose.
"You can get down on your knees if you want, but it won't be to pray," Merle said, tilting his head down, moving in for a kiss.
Quick as a viper the woman smacked him across the mouth just as she promised and Merle reeled back in shock, touching his hand to his mouth.
"Watch yourself, Mr. Dixon," Sister Joan scolded, before flouncing off.
Rubbing his stinging face, Merle muttered a few colourful phrases under his breath and hopped up onto the wall to sulk a little.
..-~-..
..-~-..
Later as he was climbing down from his watch, he spied a group gathered around the fire as the sky had darkened and the cool night air invaded the land.
Moving to sit at the very edge of the fire, Merle found himself beside his brother and nodded to him.
Daryl returned the nod.
"How about a song, Lieutenant?" Sister Mary Claire suggested as those closer to the fire sat peacefully, enjoying its warmth, enjoying each others company.
The Cajun smirked. "I'm not the singer here," he teased, casting a glance to Beth who sat close between her father and Glenn.
Beth smiled shyly and shook her head.
"You're always singing, honey." Grace stated from the man's side.
"I miss the radio," he explained. "Doesn't mean I'm Frank Sinatra."
"Croon for us, Ol' Blue Eyes," Tyreese said.
"Yeah, how about a song before bed," Sasha added.
"Please, Lieutenant?" Annie chirped from where she was snuggled against Grace, between the two.
"Alright," the Cajun cleared his throat dramatically. "I," he began softly, "can't stand it, I know you planned it. I'mma set it straight, this Watergate—"
Grace playfully shoved him. "A nice song, Lafayette."
"That is a nice song," the man argued as the others laughed. "You don't even know how many lovely memories I have while listening to the Beastie Boys. Course," he added with an impish grin, "those memories aren't anywhere near as interesting as the ones that happen in the backseat of a Buick LeSabre…"
Reaching over Grace shoved the Cajun hard.
He laughed jovially at her reaction.
"What happens in the backseat of a Buick LeSabre?" Annie asked innocently.
"Car trips," Grace insisted, glaring daggers at the Lieutenant.
Merle scoffed from his seat at the edge of the firelight.
"And nothing else," she added.
"What kind of car trips? Fun ones?!" Annie asked.
"More fun than the trips taken in the back of a Monte Carlo, honey," Grace sniped almost bitterly.
The Cajun tilted his head back and laughed.
"What's a Monte Carlo?" The little girl continued her line of questioning.
"It's a horrible car," the former nun answered, "that decent women would never be caught dead in."
It was entirely unfair to Merle that a scrawny assed Cajun could get the attention and affection of a nun and he couldn't even convince one to just get it off with him.
Hell, sex wasn't nearly as sinful as complete devotion to a mortal man. At least Merle didn't think so.
"Hey, dumb ass," Merle grunted, angry at everything the Cajun had for a brief moment.
Everyone at the fire peered into the darkness beyond where Merle sat beside Daryl.
"If I get you a Monte Carlo, would you do the group a favour and take the nun in the backseat and end this stupid G rated movie we have to put up with on a day-to-day basis? I'm getting sick of watching it."
The Lieutenant blinked, before angling his head like a confused mutt. "I don't follow you."
"Like hell you don't," Merle replied.
"Merle," Carol warned softly.
"Sorry, sister," Merle backed down with a smirk. "Just trying to move things into the PG rating."
"You heard her, Merle," the Lieutenant began with a grin. "The woman wouldn't be caught dead in the back of any Monte Carlo I owned."
Merle beamed as Grace seemed to suddenly be wearing the face of a woman who had shot herself in the foot.
"You two are so assed backwards in the way you approach anything, it's a wonder you haven't been cornholed by a doorknob," Merle mused, pushing to his feet. "Fucking pathetic the lot of you."
"Merle Dixon!" Grace scolded, clamping her hands over Annie's ear.
The little girl laughed, because she already heard enough to know she wasn't supposed to hear half of it.
Breaking the moment, the Cajun cleared his throat.
"Well, my name's John Lee Pettimore, same as my daddy and his daddy before," he began singing quickly and loud enough to cover any further cursing Merle might do.
Merle understood that he was probably just being so miserable because the Cajun could easily be getting his rocks off with a half decent looking nun anytime he wanted and Merle couldn't even get a goddamned kiss.
Fucking pathetic world they were living in now…he was raging horny and the female pool seemed to be dry as the goddamned Sahara.
..-~-..
..-~-..
Lying on his cot much later that night, he pondered the situation. He could give himself a friendly rub and tug, but the thing was he was right handed and only just adjusting to doing things left handed. It'd be like a fucking whore with Parkinson's working on him and he wasn't in the mood to fumble with himself in the dark of night.
It would all be a lot easier if God knew how to share his women.
Sitting up as Officer Friendly entered, Merle and the man exchanged a simple nod greeting.
He harboured no strong urges to kill the man as he once had, didn't mean Merle was ready to go frolicking through the daisies with him. The two men kept their distance from one another and when they happened to be alone (on the rare occasions when the Lieutenant was mysteriously AWOL from his bunk). They usually just kept to themselves and basically ignored the fact the other man existed.
Tonight though must have been a full fucking moon, because Rick actually spoke to him as he removed his boots to settle on his own cot.
"You know where the Lieutenant goes most nights?" Rick asked. It was rhetorical, conversational.
Merle appreciated his effort, so decided to be amiable.
"That nun's bed, so I heard," Merle replied.
Rick nodded. "With Annie and that dog of theirs."
Scoffing, Merle eased back onto his bed. "Don't see how that stupid fucker can sleep so close to something so feminine and willing and not do a single damned thing about it? He must be hurting by morning…"
"Well, I can tell you right now a kid in your bed kind of ruins the mood," the other man stated, lying back on his own cot.
"Like a bucket of cold water, huh?"
"Very cold," Rick agreed. "Kids have this habit of knowing the tender areas and going for them in their sleep."
"Jesus," Merle sneered at the darkness. "Animals…"
On his cot Rick chuckled, arm thrown over his eyes.
The two men settled in for the night in the comfort of the little shed. Outside the crickets chirped lazily. It comforted Merle that something was living beyond the wall, the biters in the woods usually kept the birds and frogs from making noise at night, but apparently the crickets were more stalwart than that.
"Merle?" Rick whispered.
The oldest Dixon brother shifted on his cot. "What?"
"You know I depend on your brother a lot."
Merle wanted to scoff at the man, but he had a feeling Rick wasn't near done having his say, so he kept quiet.
"I want to be able to depend on you just as much," Rick paused for a moment as though thinking over his words carefully, before adding, "we all need you."
Was Officer Friendly trying to…what? Make amends? Was he relying on Merle Dixon of all people?
Silently pondering what the hell the man was aiming at, Merle scowled at the ceiling above him.
"Merle?"
"Yeah?"
"No man is an island anymore. We all need to work together and we need strong men like you to help keep us safe. Especially with this thing with Woodbury looming over us."
Not one to so easily forget or forgive, Merle sighed lightly. It wasn't like he wanted to see the group burn, not anymore, but he still didn't like the idea of being put neatly in Rick Grimes' back pocket like his brother had been.
Deciding he needed time to think before agreeing or disagreeing with Rick Grimes on the whole 'let's work as a team' thing, Merle rolled over on his cot and chose to ignore the man for the rest of the night until he could come to a decision.
..-~-..
..-~-..
He awoke before the sun rose in the Eastern sky and slipped his boots on, struggling to tie them, not only one handed, but in the near complete darkness of the moments before dawn.
Finally managing to at least get the laces knotted in such a way that they wouldn't trip him up, he stood up and stretched, not sure how the long, lanky Cajun managed to get such good sleep on the narrow, short little cots. They were definitely built for women, as they ended a little abruptly for his liking.
Hell, the Lieutenant's long legs hung over the end of them so much he could practically bend his knees and rest his feet on the floor.
As it was Rick was forced to curl up in a fetal position just to sleep properly on the cot.
Usually Merle would be the first one up in the frat house, flicking the Cajun between the eyes on his way past for the morning watch on the wall, but without the Cajun he paused, eyeing Rick's sleeping form.
What the man said mere hours ago still disturbed him.
Lying on the cot curled up, the tall ex-cop looked innocent enough, harmless, but Merle still didn't want to be tied down by the responsibility of taking care of the group, caring for them like his baby bro did.
Still, eyeing the lawman, Merle wondered what it could hurt committing himself to the group. He had no real plans to go anywhere anymore. Things were easier, safer within the convent walls and the others were beginning to at least look at him less like the embodiment of pure evil and more like that one uncle who cursed and drank and embarrassed everyone.
Merle cautiously kicked a boot at the cot, shaking Rick awake.
"You getting up, man?"
Running his hands over his face, Rick cleared the sleep from his throat and nodded. "Yeah."
The man had rough nightmares, he tossed and turned so much in his sleep it was a fucking miracle he managed to get any sleep and Merle would have just left him to sleep, but Rick had a job like everyone else to do. He and Merle walked the wall in the early morning hours, when Daryl and the Lieutenant took off in the dewy morning to hunt for food.
Everyone had a job and everyone did it without question.
Work didn't bother Merle so much, he was used to it. Hell a high school dropout like him had been busting his hump for years just to make enough booze and drug money to live on.
What he wouldn't give for a good stiff drink.
Sighing, Merle dragged his own hand over his face and flopped onto the cot beside Rick who was sitting up with a groan.
"You've bitten off more than you can chew with this group, man." Merle said.
"Merle—"
"Shut up and listen, Officer Friendly," Merle interrupted him. "I'm not your henchmen and I'll never be a patsy for you. But you have quite a burden shouldered and when I see fit, I'll take some of that burden, but only on my terms. Got it?"
"I just need people to protect others, Merle." Rick said. "We need warriors, soldiers, men who can keep the weaker ones safe."
"And I've been doing that, haven't I? I'm not a goddamned monster, Smiley. I know you and your people think I'm the terror in the night and I know I've killed men for the Governor and I'll be judged accordingly by a higher power for it, but I have no interest in pulling apart the fabric of this unit. You need me on that wall with a gun, you've got it, but I'm not Daryl and I'm not looking for pats on the head for a job well done, I'm just looking to do my job." Merle pushed to his feet. "Of course, if you need me for anything, I'd be happy to consider it. All you gotta do is ask."
Rick stood up as well and Merle nearly knocked him out when he reached out a hand, but as it settled harmlessly on Merle's shoulder, the bigger man unclenched.
"Thank you, Merle. I appreciate knowing where you stand."
"Right here," Merle replied shrugging off the hand. "Just don't get so damned touchy feely, Christ."
The Cajun Dialect
Derrière – Behind or buttocks.