I'm too lazy to reply to reviews. You must all know I love you to bits by now. So...yeah...let me be lazy this one time.
I swear plot coming in the next chapter. I just...I really wanted some girl time, so...meh, it's my damned fanfiction I will get girl time when I want.
...I may have lost my mind a little...
Special shout out to my girl skittletitz (you delicious little tart of naughtiness) who created the lovely cover art for this piece and who I'd totally marry if we weren't both so jaded and hateful towards the institution. Check out my profile page for the link to her art blog, because it's a realm of enchantment and fairies.
I'm craving tarts now...
Chapter Sixty-Seven: Ange
**Carol**
For the longest time Grace didn't say much to anyone, she just quietly went about her work, gathering the now dry laundry from the line, folding the clothes in tranquil silence, while all around her the women of the group gave her quiet, fleeting looks of curiosity.
When she finished her chores, she stood up, arms full of folded, clean laundry and smiled at Carol sweetly.
"Carol, honey, we should move inside and get some kind of supper started," she said.
Glancing around her to the other women who were still working on their own chores, Carol nodded at Grace and pushed to her feet, following the woman into the dorms, Clyde at her heels.
The big baby of a dog had decided that since he was staying with Carol, since Carol was the one who snuggled and gave him tummy scratches that she was the one he wanted to stick with. It suited her. Clyde was going to be under her charge anyways.
Along the way to the kitchen, Grace paused here and there, popping into rooms to distribute clothing to their owners, placing articles on the foot of the beds in the empty rooms.
Carol watched her work quietly, at ease with just watching the woman.
It had been one hell of a kiss, to be sure.
Hell, when you get lifted off the ground during a kiss it's generally a good sign.
Grace still acted as though nothing happened, moving into the kitchen, pulling the root cellar door open to descend below the dorms to fetch something canned for dinner to go with the rabbit and possum Daryl and Merle had caught.
Telling Clyde to sit and stay (which she was pleased to find worked), she followed, carefully picking her way down the steep ladder-like steps into the root cellar and down rows of empty shelves, past the wine racks, towards the far end where the last of their canned goods lined one shelf.
Pausing before the canned goods, Grace touched a hand to the base of her throat.
"Aren't you going to ask?" She said finally.
"It's none of my business," Carol replied.
Turning to her with a slightly offended look, Grace reached out and picked up a jar of carrots. "Carol, I like to think you're my best girlfriend around here. I'd hope you'd know enough to be nosey with me."
Carol smiled shyly. "Was it good?"
Grace beamed at the jars, the smile was genuine, though a little faded, like a blossom wilted by the sun, still beautiful, but somehow sad. "It was very good."
"But?"
Putting the jar down, Grace picked up a jar of vegetable stew. "But I can't help thinking God will strike me dead for my choices as of late." She sighed. "I prayed for days, Carol. Uncertainty is a horrible feeling, especially when it comes to faith, but…I still pray. God is so busy with the problems of others, now more than anything and it's selfish of me to ask much of him after…after what I did, but," she broke off suddenly.
Carol waited for her patiently as Grace seemed to gather her words.
"Maybe there'll be a punishment for me soon, for my wicked decisions, but I'll bear any punishment God has for my sins."
"I wasn't aware God punished people for loving others," Carol said.
Grace smiled and calmly dusted off the tops of the jars with her hand, brushing the dust off her hands with even strokes against each other. "God is merciful, but there must be punishment for those who abandon their vows to him. It isn't like breaking a promise to meet up at the movies or not being able to make it to a child's play. Breaking a solemn oath to God is blasphemous and vile."
"If you ask me," Carol said. "I think God's been doling out enough punishment lately. You said it yourself, he's too busy with what's going on to notice a woman falling in love with a man during the end of the world. And if you're going to hell for love, then I'll meet up with you there, because I stole a chocolate bar when I was eight."
For a moment Grace ran her hands over the tops of the jars, still dusting them off, before she smiled and then laughed.
Carol laughed with her, taking down three jars to carry upstairs, nudging Grace with her elbow companionably. "I wouldn't worry too much about God's punishment, because half the time I think it was man who made up the idea that God was vengeful to explain the bad things that happen to them. Besides," she added wickedly, "if the man can kiss, think of what else he can do."
"Carol!" Grace exclaimed.
Laughing, Carol led the way back up the steps. "I thought we were girlfriends, this is how they talk."
"I'm utterly shocked at you."
"No you're not."
..-~-..
..-~-..
They stood outside the dorms, hands full of plates with the evening meal on, watching as Daryl and Merle escorted a bespectacled man across the lawns.
"Who is that?" Grace asked.
Carol eyed the man, he looked relatively harmless in his tan suit with the plaid button up shirt underneath. In fact he had a sort of accountant vibe to him that made her breathe a little easier. "I don't know."
"Let's hope there's only one."
"He can't be too much of a threat if they're allowing him inside," Carol assured Grace.
He can't be much of a threat if they let him live, she thought to herself.
"Here, I'm going to take these plates to those on the wall first," she said. "Why don't you go and see if you can track down Glenn, he's been hanging around the church lately."
"Poor boy," Grace whispered. "I wish I could bear his pain for him."
..-~-..
..-~-..
After running around the convent handing out meals, Carol paused by the infirmary where Daryl and Merle had taken the new guy, a plate of leftovers in her hand for him.
She had wanted to feed their people before seeing what they could spare for the new guy.
Carefully she poked her head in.
The new guy was sitting on a cot in the infirmary chatting quietly with Andrea, Daryl and Merle keeping watch over him not too far away.
Moving inside quietly, she stood beside Daryl for a moment.
"Who is he?" She asked.
"Milton Mamet, Governor's little pet," Merle said from the other side of Daryl.
"He's from Woodbury?" Carol asked. The last they saw of the men from Woodbury they were shooting at them, clearing the prison out by force like they were insects that needed exterminating.
"Rick and the Lieutenant are doing a perimeter check for others," Daryl assured her, leaning in he whispered. "You stay away from him for a while, okay?"
She nodded, handing him the plate. "I brought him some food if he's hungry."
Merle snatched the plate from his brother's hand. "Milt eats like a bird, I'll take that."
"Merle," she scolded.
The older Dixon was already downing the vegetable stew and grilled possum cheerfully, plate resting on a nearby hospital tray.
"Need my strength," Merle replied through a mouthful of food. "Gotta protect the women and children from threats."
"I'm not hungry, anyways," Milton spoke up from the cot, looking back at Carol with an open, earnest face. "Thank you though."
Carol offered him a kind smile.
"Don't talk to her," Daryl snarled. "You just mind your own business over there." Taking hold of Carol gently, he led her out of the infirmary.
She allowed him to do it, meeting up with Clyde outside.
Pausing to stroke the dog's head, Daryl frowned. "You keep your weapon on you while he's here. I don't trust him."
"Okay," she said.
"Keep the dog with you too."
"Okay."
They stood in the early nighttime air for a long time in silence, Carol eyeing the stars overhead and the bobbing lanterns on the wall as people walked it.
"You okay?" Daryl asked after a bit.
"Yeah."
"Sure?"
After a second she shrugged. "Grace thinks she's going to hell for kissing the Lieutenant."
"Yeah, well, she ain't."
"I'm just…I don't how to make her feel better about her decision. I'm scared she might take it back. It'd hurt him worse than any knife could if she did that."
"Yeah, well, it's not our problem."
"Grace is my friend," she said, "the Lieutenant too. Of course it's my problem."
Squinting at the stars, Daryl sighed. "It'll all be okay," he said. "Don't worry."
Thing about Daryl Dixon was when he said 'it'll be okay' he usually meant it. He was so good at that.
Carol smiled. "Okay."
Leaning down he pressed a kiss to her temple, hand sliding over her waist. "Remember what I said," he whispered.
She nodded.
"I want to get on the wall, keep watch tonight make sure Milton Mamet was alone." He pulled away from her with a nod. "Don't stay out in the shed tonight alone, stay in the dorms, okay?"
She nodded again. "Yeah."
"That's my girl."
..-~-..
..-~-..
"You keep the rifle by the bedside tonight, yeah?"
Carol was standing outside Grace's dorm room later with Judith's cradle box in her hands and her dog at her side, hoping to bunk with her as the others filled the dorms at Rick's insistence that they stay together under one roof, when she overheard the Lieutenant speaking with Grace in a hushed tone.
"Lafayette, I understand the man could be dangerous, you don't need to lecture me," Grace argued. "I've got my knife, I've got my rifle, the rounds are in the chamber, I'm ready for anything."
"Do you have Annie's water, she gets dry at night," the Cajun replied sarcastically.
"Get your rear out of here and on that wall," Grace returned. "I have no idea what I did to be burdened with such a smart mouthed Cajun boy."
The Lieutenant chuckled. "Well, some women are just lucky."
"How unfortunate for me then," Grace shot back.
Tsking, the Cajun could be heard chuckling. "Wicked girl," he scolded. "Mais, I'm heading for the wall."
There was a moment of silence where Carol was sure they were kissing and she felt bad for eavesdropping outside the door, but she forgot about feeling bad when the Lieutenant emerged from the room, smiling broadly at her.
"Carol, you keep on your guard tonight, ange," he said on his way past her.
"I'll watch over your girls for you."
The Lieutenant stopped short and turned back to face her. "You just worry about keeping yourself safe," he said. "My girls can handle themselves, Daryl'll curl up and die if anything ever happened to you."
"I can handle myself too," Carol said.
The Lieutenant nodded. "Good. One less thing for me to worry about. I like troops who can care for themselves."
She laughed softly. "Goodnight, Lieutenant."
"Bonne nuit, ange."
..-~-..
..-~-..
"When I was young my mother used to say to break the bad luck of constantly needing to attend funerals, you needed a wedding,"
It was probably about two or three in the morning and Carol and Grace were still wide awake, neither one wanting to sleep too deeply for fear of a night attack from Woodbury, so they curled up on either side of Annie on the narrow cot and chatted idly.
"Does that actually work?" Carol asked.
Grace shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Never had occasion to test the theory, although I do recall my Aunt Gloria living about two years longer than was expected after my cousin Amelia got married."
"Coincidence or magic?" Carol teased.
The two women laughed softly so as not to wake Annie or Judith.
"He has a tattoo on his stomach," Grace began softly, "Lafayette, it's low enough that when I saw it, it was mostly hidden by his pants."
Carol beamed. "How do you know?"
"A few months back he stuck himself in the woods with a twig, I was cleaning the wound."
"I bet you were," Carol teased.
"I was," Grace insisted. "Don't know what the tattoo was supposed to be. It was all lines and stars…almost looked like just a pattern of sorts. He's also got a Marine Corps tattoo on his shoulder, but…I think that's a requirement."
Carol nuzzled deeper into the pillow, happy to have girl talk like a normal woman again. "So, what's he look like without a shirt on?"
"Carol!" Grace scolded.
"I'm just curious…"
Burying their laughter into the pillow, Carol and Grace waited for a good two minutes before they felt composed enough to lift them again.
"He doesn't look his age," Grace finally said.
"Hairy?"
"No, surprisingly enough, very little." She motioned to her stomach. "He has this, ah—"
"Treasure trail?"
Grace touched a hand to her mouth. "Is that what it's called? Oh good heavens, you secular women…"
After a moment in the darkness, Grace spoke again.
"Are you happy, Carol?"
"Yeah," she said after a moment. "We struggle to survive day to day, but…I've never been happier."
She felt Grace's hand slip into hers and squeeze and in the darkness Carol smiled.
"Are you happy?" She asked Grace.
"Right now? I'm unsure, but I think in a few more days I might be. Very happy."
"Especially if we can break the bad luck of funerals with a wedding," Carol teased.
Grace laughed. "Unless there's another couple around here who may have an understanding, I think it'll be a while before we have a wedding."
"Doesn't hurt to think big," Carol replied.
The Cajun Dialect
Ange - Angel