JackAndHoney - Well, great minds think alike. Also, the only dog Daryl Dixon could ever have would be the biggest mother ever. It's just logical. And I never intended a Mary Agnes POV chapter, but now I am...I like outsider views on things.
Peta2 - I agree. Merle had so much potential as a character for development. So did Milton, but I may be biased in that I adore Dallas Roberts and Michael Rooker as actors.
skittletitz - Daryl needs a dog so badly. One that he can train to come lopping up like a horse when he whistles and just topple enemies...or one to sniff out walkers before they cause trouble...or just one to snuggle when he thinks no one is watching...or one to take up half the small cot so Carol has to sleep on Daryl's chest. ^_^
MollyMayhem84 - I love Great Danes, I've been doing an intership at a pet store for my business course and this lady brought this black one in and she was so beautiful and loveable and awesome and huge and we put the tiny little miniature pincher next to her and they were both so hilariously mismatched! Ah, dogs are so cool (still a hardcore cat person, but dogs are wicked awesome too).
Surplus Imagination - I'm glad you caught that. I like to think Carol isn't a nagging type woman, but Daryl just reads her and tries hard to make her happy, even if it's giving his hands a quick washing now and then.
Brazen Hussy - ...is next to Pogliness. (Am I so old I remember Pogs? Yes. Yes is the answer to the question no one asked).
AFishNamedSushi - I know what it's like. I've been interning and I'm just wiped by the end of the day. Hence the slow updates (slow for me, at least). I hope you find time to just cold chill soon though, my friend. ^_^
peonies01 - See that? You ask for an Lt./Grace chapter and you get one. I'm just that flexible with the reviewer requests (at least requests from reviewers who never give me grief). Thanks for the review! Hope you enjoy this chapter!
SilverWolf84 - Not enough dogs or four legged beasts around in the ZA are there? Needs more...
Lilone1776 - I agree. Daryl is a big softie, but he'll kick ass if and when he needs to. Love the man dearly. And yes, you also got heard and this chapter is for you. I hadn't planned on it, but you are so kind to me in your reviews, think of this as a treat for you. ^_^
HGRHfan35 - I was actually sad that the show didn't have at least one really touching moment between the Dixon bros. Like they tried, but it just didn't satisfy.
GG - Haha! Your dad sounds adorable! I frickin' laughed at that! I'm going to use it from now on...on a semi-related note, my dad (not as eloquent as yours) has a habit of saying 'I don't know the man, but apparently he's a real asshole' when referring to anyone he talks about who he doesn't know. I think one day it's going to backfire on him...ah, father's, they're cluelessly hilarious.
Axelrocks - I dig your new avatar, btw. Wanted to say it a while back and got distracted. My great-grandfather had an Irish Wolfhound cross and it liked to put it's front paws on the hood of cars and peer into the windows at the drivers when they pulled into his driveway. Apparently it was a big wuss, but a thing that big scared enough people that it proved to be a good guard dog.
This chapter is dedicated to peonies01 and Lilone1776, who requested a Lt./Grace chapter to explain the happenings in the previous one. I wasn't going to do it, but dammit I love my reviewers and I want them to be happy and healthy! Hey you two, I appreciate all your reviews.
Also, a reminder that my lovely cover art was done by the wonderful and intelligent (and I've heard sexy as a snake in a corset), skittletitz. Go to my profile and find your way to her art blog, because it's worth the trip!
Chapter Sixty-Five: Goût
**The Lieutenant**
"Fine, I'll go build a goddamned stable for the thing."
Beaming widely at the tail end of the youngest Dixon, Lieutenant Lafayette Vancoughnett the fourth quietly and calmly stroked the beast at his side. He had no doubt the man would spout fire and steam, but at the end of it all he knew that the so-called 'hard ass' would cave.
Dogs had that charm to them that no human with a heart or soul could resist.
Plus the big grey scaredy cat of a dog would have melted anyone's heart. The poor thing looked so wretched and had such a nice pair of big brown eyes.
Giving the dog one last good scratching behind his ears, the Lieutenant stood up and brushed his hands off.
"Was there ever a doubt?" He asked Grace.
The woman beamed. "I guess you and Merle can sell dirt to the worms."
"Damn right!"
Merle scowled and rubbed his scruff with his remaining hand. "Think about that one a bit, Fay. Take your time."
"Thank you for pointing out my eagerness to agree to everything, Merle," the Lieutenant said sheepishly, eyeing Grace to gauge her reaction to his moment of stupidity.
She smiled serenely at them.
"Let's give you a bath!" Carol gushed behind him. "Would you like that? A big soapy bath for a big fella like you?"
"Sure would," Merle replied. "As I recall, actually," he turned to Grace with a grin, "I was offered to be bathed by a couple of nuns when I first arrived…"
Grace smiled softly. "Mr. Dixon, I recall offering you a bath. We never made any promises on bathing you personally."
"Well, that was the impression I was given." Leaning in with a grin, Merle whispered to Grace. "When can I expect to collect on this offer?"
Quirking a brow, the Lieutenant watched the exchange with mixed feelings.
Chuckling at Merle, Grace shook her head. "I'd highly recommend a bath, Mr. Dixon, but you'll be completely alone."
"Unless you want to just jump in with the dog," the Lieutenant broke in. "We can even throw your right hand into the kitchen sink to give it a good scrub."
Tilting back, Merle's lips formed a tight 'O' of mimicking shock, before he laughed. "You seem a little snippy, Lieutenant, did I step on your toes?" Grinning, Merle tipped his imaginary hat at the Cajun and turned away from the crowd chuckling.
At his side Grace was quietly appraising the Lieutenant, stone faced and motionless.
Clearing his throat, the Lieutenant also turned tail and left the group of women behind.
..-~-..
..-~-..
"Have you ever tasted a walrus?"
Looking up from where he was fixing one of the rain spouts on the side of the dorms, the Lieutenant eyed the little missy and her constant pooch companion with a mildly horrified look.
"I should hope not," he said.
Annie posed her finger to her chin in that overly dramatic and completely unnecessary way children often did. "I bet if you ever did, it'd taste salty…like the ocean!"
"I…suppose."
Plucking grass out of the ground and shredding it idly, Annie continued to perch just at his side as he screwed the new bracket he made out of a piece of small chain into the wall.
"If I ever saw a walrus, I'd taste it, just to be sure."
"I probably wouldn't recommend it," the Lieutenant replied, easing onto his side to get down low enough to screw the chain in properly.
"I'd taste anything, just to see what it tastes like. Because…things could be tastier than they look. Like how cooked meat doesn't really look good, but then it tastes really good. Like that." The little girl swallowed hard and smacked her lips. "But Mother Mena has this book in her office, it's a big book of walrus' and stuff and I just thought that they looked like they'd taste good and then Sister Mary Claire said that they come from the ocean and the ocean is salty and that's why I think they'd taste salty."
"Well," the Lieutenant grunted as he moved on to the other side of the makeshift bracket, "you're at least approaching this logically."
"Yeah and then Mother Mena was teaching me how to read better, because I only know the alphabet, but she said if you put the letters together it says things, like when I'm looking at the walrus' pictures and there's things that the book says about them underneath the pictures."
"Oh?"
"But I don't think I'm very smart, because I still don't know what the book says about walrus'. It's why I'm imagining what they'd taste like."
Propping himself up on his elbows, he eyed the little girl, before sitting up completely. "Hey, don't ever think you're not smart, boo. Don't even say it. You're smarter than any little girl I've ever known, you're so smart you even came up with your own theory. You know what a theory is?"
"Nuh-uh."
"A theory is something smart people come up with, it may not be proven, but it's usually pretty close."
"What theory did I come up with?" The little girl stumbled on the word 'theory'.
"You came up with the theory that because they're found in and around the ocean, that a walrus must taste salty and you know something, I think you're probably right about that."
Annie beamed and swayed. "Because I'm smart!"
"Hell yeah you are!"
The little girl gasped, then giggled. "You said a bad word!"
"But you won't tell Mother Mena, yeah? Nobody likes a fink."
"What's a fink?"
"It's…a wild, mean animal who tattles on other animals."
"Like a skunk?"
"Sure, alright."
"I won't tell. Mr. Merle said 'asshat' this morning and I didn't say anything to anyone about it."
"Well, you just told me, but…whatever."
"I have another theory," the little girl whispered, leaning in close to him.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, wanna hear it?"
"Sure."
Moving right up beside him, Annie cupped her hand and whispered in his ear. "I think you and Mother Mena are in love."
"You know theories aren't always right, yeah?"
"But they're usually pretty close." She argued, rocking back on her bottom to look at him.
The Lieutenant smirked, before grabbing the little girl, wrapping his arms around her in a lovingly rough embrace and play biting at her neck. "Possede!" He growled at her teasingly.
She giggled loud and boisterously, squirming in his lap, her dog barking at them.
Pulling her in close, the Lieutenant spied Grace approaching and snuggled the girl quickly, before releasing her. "Why don't you go and call Mr. Merle an 'asshat' see how he responds."
"Okay!" She chirped standing up and taking off for wherever the hell Merle was keeping himself.
"Tell him I sent you!" He called after her, pushing to his feet.
"Whatever are you doing to my dormitory, Lieutenant?" Grace demanded as she neared.
He eyed the work on the spout. "Well, it needed fixing and we're all basically just waiting around these days for our plans to be put in motion, giving Glenn some time to grieve before we head out."
"Hm, yes, of course." She smiled at him. "I was actually hoping to grab you, the wringer on the hand dryer is stuck and we need—"
"Yeah, I can take a look at, I'm not as handy as those Dixon boys, but we know how to use duct tape down on the bayou."
Grace smiled sweetly at him.
"Ah, actually speaking of rings, I've been meaning to tell you the ring fell off a while back and I," he patted himself down, "stuck it in my pocket somewhere…hold on…" Reaching into the pockets of his pants, he withdrew a wad of things.
"Goodness, Lafayette, do you ever clean your pockets out?"
"Yeah, but I usually just stick these things back in them once they're clean…" he didn't notice as he sifted through ketchup packets and old pieces of bandage wrappers that a particular wrapper had fallen out of his pocket onto the ground until Grace was stooping to retrieve it for him.
Between them she held up a condom in its wrapper and tilted her head.
"Oh, that's ah…" he began.
She pursed her lips and yanked it out of his reach as he moved to take it back.
"Tell me you haven't been parking in Monte Carlo's with girls again," she teased.
Shoving the items back into his pockets, the Lieutenant smiled. "Well, not yet. Give it time and we'll see."
"Why do they need to be 'ribbed for her pleasure'?" She went on, reading the packet far from his grasp. "What does that do?"
Studying the fire in the woman's eyes and the way she was sort of leaning in towards him, Lafayette was struck with a curious thought. Could he perhaps get away with a kiss? After all, what was the worst that could happen? She'd slap him? Maybe. She'd probably avoid him, more likely.
Still that look she had, almost wicked, but still innocent.
"Do you plan on using it anytime soon or do you just carry it around so you can pull it out and remember times past?" She teased.
"I might use it a lot sooner than you'd think," he replied with a smirk, holding his hand out, palm up, "as soon as I find a Monte Carlo…"
"Why wait for that?" She inquired, slipping the condom into his hand.
"As soon as I find a girl then," he said.
"Oh? You need another one?" She asked, resting the condom and her hand on his.
What?
"What?" He wrapped his fingers around her hand delicately, lightly for fear of spooking her.
Her pretty little Cupid's bow mouth curled up at one corner and she tilted her chin up just a little bit.
Suddenly very aware of the condom that separated his hand from hers, he realized that an opportunity had popped up and he was clear for the proverbial landing.
What the hell, he thought. Let her slap him if she wanted, he was going for it.
A movement out of the corner of his eye had him breaking his gaze with Grace's pretty little mouth and he found Daryl quietly trying to back away from them.
He couldn't honestly remember what he said, but he did recall tucking tail and motoring out of Dodge as fast as his long assed Cajun legs could carry him.
..-~-..
..-~-..
That evening, with the makings of an explosives timing device spread out before him, he walked the rest of the group through how to make them.
Very simple actually, timing device, wiring, switch, but he was distracted by the scene he had left with Grace. It had been left hanging so openly and he hated unfinished business.
"So what makes you our demolitions expert?" Michonne asked after failing to wire her timing device properly.
"Uh, well, I don't have a degree or anything, but…they kept the grenades away from me in boot because I liked to test them."
"Really?" Sasha asked.
"No, that was a lie…half-lie. I…no they weren't that mad about it."
"And what if we get the wiring wrong?" Rick demanded.
Glancing past the group to where Grace broke away from the cluster of women doing laundry at the campfire, he muttered a quick, "just, ah, turn it away from your face when you set it…excuse me."
"We're going to get all kinds of blown up," Tyreese muttered as the Lieutenant broke away from them.
Coming up on Grace's left as she hung the laundry on the makeshift line the nun's had hanging in the small space between the rectory and the church, he placed a hand on her shoulder blade, leaning in close to whisper, "I don't."
She turned to him with a mildly curious look.
Worried that she may have forgotten about the moment they had earlier, concerned it meant more to him than her, his confidence slowed to a trickle and he shifted on his feet.
He breathed again when she smiled that secretive smile of hers and set her hand against his chest. "Oh, honey, I know that. I'm a handful enough as it is."
Beaming, the Lieutenant shuffled in closer to her again. "I don't mind a handful."
Patting him, Grace nodded. "I know you don't."
"So," he began, "just so I'm clear, because this has been a strange day so far—"
"We're in the beginnings of a relationship," she stated, turning calmly back to her laundry.
Pocketing his hands, he rocked back on the heels of his feet and watched as she continued to hang the clothes on the line. Pulling one hand out, he moved it towards her hesitantly, before stopping himself.
Strangest and yet simplest beginning to any relationship he ever had.
Well, no point hanging about in timid waters when there was a rapid river to ride.
Gripping her waist with both hands, he picked the dainty woman up and turned her around, pulling her against his body and sliding his mouth over hers.
She may have been a former nun, but she felt and tasted like a woman. And after that moment of initial shock passed she kissed him like a woman, arms winding around his neck, petite body pressing hard against his.
It had been so long since he had a woman in his arms, longer since it was a woman he adored so much. Lafayette would have loved to have claimed that he wasn't aroused by such an innocent thing as Grace, but he was only human.
She pulled away from him slowly, peeking over the arm that had wrapped around her midsection at the ground he had raised her off of.
"You can put me down now, honey." She said.
"Sorry," he eased her back onto her feet.
"Hn, you made me drop my laundry."
Nervously he stooped to pick the fallen pair of pants up, handing them to her with a small grin. "I think the grass was clean enough. No harm done."
She was gazing past him to where the group of demolition trainees were watching their every move, their timers forgotten.
He followed her gaze and cleared his throat sheepishly. "Sorry," he said to her.
Grace offered him a small smile, tilting her head in the direction of the women doing laundry at the campfire who were also watching them quietly.
"They…ah, I'm not usually so public about…you know?" He began.
She touched a hand to the base of her throat. "Well, kiss me again so they don't think it was a onetime thing and then get back to work."
The Lieutenant beamed at her.
"Nobody likes a proud peacock, Fayette."
"Fate," he corrected her.
"What?"
"The pet form of my name is Fate, calling me Fayette is kind of emasculating."
Grace smiled a tiny, puckish grin. "Just kiss me, Fayette, and get back to work."
"Yes, ma'am." He replied, resting his hand on her waist and dipping down to kiss her.
She wrapped a tiny hand around the front of his shirt, holding him against her mouth long enough to kiss him properly, before releasing him and smoothing the wrinkles out.
Oh God, the others were going to be merciless.
Pack of wolves that they were.
The Cajun Dialect
Goût - Taste