AN: OK, here you go, a little more! Happy Friday everyone! Though if you're like me lately, Friday's just another day. LOL

I guess this is sort of an "episodic" chapter of two different little episodes, but it's what we have for the night and it's advancing the story forward! So here it is!

I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!

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"I want you to be on your best behavior at Thanksgiving," Andrea said to Merle, unfolding her napkin and smoothing it across her lap.

Merle shifted in the booth across from her and glanced around the Wagon Wheel, chewing on a toothpick he'd somehow acquired since they'd gotten there.

"Mmmm…I just don't understand what the fuck ya lil' boyfriend's comin' ta dinner for…kinda thought'cha weren't gonna see him no more," Merle said.

Andrea sighed.

Merle was trying, and she knew that. He was trying with nearly every fiber of his being and was obviously trying to learn to wear hats that he'd never worn before, so she was trying to be even more forgiving and understanding than she'd ever been before. If he was putting in the effort, even agreeing to countless dinners filled with "talking", which was something almost foreign to Merle, then she could try and overlook his slips.

"He's not my boyfriend, OK Merle?" Andrea responded. "We're not fourteen…and besides…I told you that I went out with him a few times, but we're just friends. That's it. And he's a good friend. That's not something I'm willing to just throw away. So I need you to check your ego at the door."

Merle snorted.

"Askin' me ta check my ego 'cause ya wanna keep runnin' 'round with the fox that used ta have his damn snout in the henhouse?" Merle responded.

Andrea sighed again and leaned forward, resting her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

"Merle…I need you to try and wrap your mind around this. Nothing happened between me and Axel. Nothing. Nada. Not one damn thing. I kissed him, that was it. We never got more exciting than a Junior High dance," Andrea said.

Merle chuckled and shifted in his seat again, leaning back against the booth and folding his arms tight across his chest. Andrea watched as the toothpick twitched in the corner of his mouth while he chewed on what she'd just said as much as the splinter of wood.

"Do he know that?" Merle asked. "Look ta me like he ain't much a' nothin'…mighta been just about the most excitin' damn time a' his life."

Andrea huffed.

"Well is it my fault if it is?" Andrea responded. "Besides, he hasn't even tried to kiss me since I told him I was trying to make…this…whatever the hell this is…work with you. He's a friend. Carol will flip out on your ass if you ruin her little Walton's Thanksgiving Merle…and I warn you that she's none too stable. Just don't start shit, please?"

"Fine," Merle said. "Ya want me ta play nice with ya lil' friend, I reckon I can play nice with him."

"Thank you," Andrea responded.

The conversation was broken when the waitress came by, bringing their plates and taking extra orders for just about every condiment known to man. One thing that Andrea had discovered while eating out with Merle at most every place in Sweet Junction and the surrounding towns, was that both of them were aficionados of condiments of every kind and if they didn't overwhelm the poor waitress in the beginning with all the "extras" they were going to need, they'd have the poor woman more than earning her tip…though they always tipped well since Andrea knew quite well what it was like working in the service industry.

"So how long we s'posed ta dance 'round this shit, sugah?" Merle asked, putting the elaborate work necessary into making his baked potato exactly like he wanted it to be.

Andrea didn't have to pretend for a moment that she didn't know what he was talking about. He was likely wanting to know, and with reason, perhaps, how long it was going to be before she let him get farther than a kiss with her or an ass squeeze in the parking lot that he was reprimanded for despite both of them laughing.

Andrea shrugged.

"I don't know, Merle. How long do you think it's going to take?" Andrea responded.

"Wellll…" Merle drawled, "would help a lot if ya told me what the hell ya damn goal is."

Andrea decided to pay some special attention to her steak. She wasn't sure exactly what the goal was. She was hoping that was magically going to become clear to her at some point. Right now it was more or less to see if Merle was really dedicated to changing or if it was going to be something that wore off after a few days.

But then what? What did she want exactly?

Did she expect Merle Dixon to marry her? To commit to her? Were they supposed to grow old together like Hershel and Miss Jo?

She felt like she was falling down the rabbit hole into Carol's dream…although admittedly, Andrea had never had a dream. She'd never, not once, felt like she'd known what she really wanted out of life. She'd wanted to survive…to make it through…to get by. Somewhere along the way she'd forgotten to let herself dream of more than that.

She'd listened to the words of every naysayer in her life. Her father…her stepmother…her mother even, before she died…people in town who'd known her and knew what her well thought of father had to say about her…she'd listened to all of them. She didn't deserve to have any dreams…and so she never had bothered with them.

So now what did she want? It was strange to have anyone…less likely Merle Dixon…asking her that.

"I don't know," Andrea admitted after a moment, "what the goal is, Merle. What do you want? When it's all said and done?"

Merle looked at her, chewing a bite of his own steak now. He was wearing a clear expression that indicated that no one had ever stopped to ask him that either…or either he'd never stopped to think that it mattered. In the end it was going to turn out however the fuck it was going to turn out. Word it how you would, they were in the same boat. Neither of them had ever dared to dream because dreams were just that. They were dreams, and giving into them just meant that one damn day you were going to wake up and find out it had all been an illusion.

Except maybe it wasn't the case.

Merle grunted a little, but there was no clear response from him. Andrea took that as all the response she was likely to get for the time being and turned her attention to her food.

"Want'cha ta fuckin' come back ta the damn apartment," Merle said after a few minutes.

Andrea rolled her eyes up to look at him.

"You mean for the night or what, Merle?" Andrea asked.

Merle audibly huffed.

"Fuck, Andrea. I want'cha ta move ya fuckin' ass back. We done talked about this shit," Merle said, obviously somewhat annoyed.

"And then what, Merle? What are we doing?" Andrea asked. "Let's so I go back to Daryl and Carol's house tonight and pack every single damn thing I own into a garbage bag…and then what? Do I stay until you start being a dick again and telling me to get the fuck out? Are we doing this for the long haul? I want to know what the hell we're doing."

Merle grunted again.

"We got ta plan forever just ta fuck?" Merle asked after a moment.

Andrea made a face at him.

"I guess I got my answer," she responded.

Merle chuckled.

"Now don't get'cha fuckin' panties all knotted up," Merle said. "I ain't said nothin' really…just tryin' ta figure out if ya waitin' on some kinda fuckin' mortgage or what."

Andrea laughed at him this time.

"Not a mortgage…" Andrea said. "Just a plan. I think we're not ready to move beyond dinner yet…we still don't know what comes next."

"Pfftt," Merle responded. "I know what the fuck's s'posed ta come next if ya weren't tryin' ta be such a damn Suzy homemaker all of a damn sudden."

Andrea nodded her head and went back to eating.

"See? That's exactly what the hell I mean. We're not beyond dinner," Andrea said. "We might get there…but we're sure as shit not there yet."

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Daryl was nervous that Thanksgiving was going to go bad, though he didn't know exactly what he was expecting to happen.

Axel had been the first to arrive and he'd brought pie. It was apple pie. Daryl knew because he'd stuck a fork in the edge of it when no one was really paying him any attention just to check. Miss Jo had sent some kind of orange pie and he dared to think it was pumpkin or sweet potato, but the apple actually seemed like a better idea.

Andrea and Carol had spent the whole day cooking, as well as part of the night before. The house smelled so incredible that Daryl hadn't eaten breakfast for fear of running out of room at dinner before he had a chance to even make it around the all the dishes.

Michonne and Tyreese got there with the girls a little after Axel and brought the turkey, and Merle was the last to arrive, sauntering in empty handed and loud about things.

But nothing had gone wrong at dinner. Despite all of Daryl's worries about it, nothing exploded and no one fought or argued at all. He'd spent most of his dinner glancing back and forth between Axel and Merle, but they hadn't seemed to have any problems. They hadn't exactly talked a whole bunch either, but there'd been no sign of rivalry.

Then after dinner they'd all crowded into the living room, dragging the chairs from the dining room along with them to make room for everyone.

Daryl quickly pulled his chair next to the couch. He didn't mind letting Michonne or Andrea sit there, since it was much more comfortable than one of the wooden chairs, but he wanted to be close enough to Carol that he could reach over and put his hand on her belly if she warned him that Lil' Bit was stirring around. He hadn't gotten to feel her often because she simply wouldn't wiggle for him, so he didn't like missing out when it did happen.

"Derlina…ya fuckin' glued ta ya woman or what?" Merle asked, choosing to sit cross legged on the floor instead of dragging a chair in. That meant, of course, that he was Lincoln's new best friend and very obviously a chair for Michonne's oldest. Daryl noticed his brother wasn't protesting the little girl's decision to come over and, without a word, sit on his legs, but he wasn't going to say anything.

"Shut up," Daryl responded. "I like it when the kid moves an' she don't do it too damn often so I like ta stay close. Ain't like she listens none when ya tell her ta hold on 'til ya get there."

Carol and Michonne both laughed. They were sitting side by side on the couch with Andrea bringing up the other end and sandwiching Michonne into the middle.

"Ty, can you get the bags out of the car?" Michonne asked, raising an eyebrow at Tyreese.

He looked at her, for just a moment, as though he was confused, but then recognition washed over him and he got up, passing Celine to Michonne and started out the door.

"Bags?" Carol asked.

Michonne nodded.

"Not much," she said. "I went through some of the things I had for the girls…things that never got used or that aren't going to get used…I thought you could use it. There's a couple of things in there for Daryl, though, that I thought he might like."

Daryl craned around Carol to look at the woman.

"What the hell ya got for me?" He asked.

If they were used to anything around there it was Michonne dragging stuff in. She was like Santa Clause or something. It seemed like every time they saw her she came bearing gifts of one sort or another. Daryl had felt bad about it for a while and tried to give her everything back, but eventually he'd given up since it always came back, and it came back with interest if he ever found a way to return things.

"You'll see," Michonne said, smiling at him.

When Tyreese came back, carrying two large sacks, Michonne instructed him to take them to the nursery and to bring her back the small bag that was tucked into the top of one of them. Tyreese didn't respond, he just started toward the nursery with all of them looking after him.

Merle chuckled.

"I don't know which damn one a' y'all is whipped worse, Derlina…you or that poor son of a bitch," Merle said.

Daryl shot his brother a look just in time to hear Andrea clear her throat. Daryl saw Merle clearly roll his eyes in her direction before the smile dropped off his face and he started paying unnecessary attention to the girl in his lap who was holding an uncaring Lincoln captive by one of his ears.

Daryl smiled to himself. His brother could talk all the shit he wanted, but it was quite obvious that Andrea was spinning her own lease and Merle was already wearing the collar…whether he'd ever admit it, and whether or not he was even aware of it.

When Tyreese came back into the living room, he walked straight to Michonne and traded her the grocery bag from the A and P for the little girl who was reaching toward him and babbling at him. He took her and went to sit back in the chair he'd brought for himself.

Michonne worked the knot out of the bag and pulled several things out of the bag, passing them to Carol.

"Never even took the tags off of these," Michonne said. "There's a lot more in those bags, but I figured Daryl might like these."

Daryl looked over at the baby clothes that Carol was looking at, tacked together in bunches.

"Oh look!" Carol cooed.

Daryl had heard that sound nearly every day for quite some time. Anytime that anything baby related came into the house, that was the sound that came along with it. Michonne and Andrea each had their own variation of it as well. It was like some kind of call that women had or something. It indicated something small and most probably colored like Easter eggs was in their presence.

"What is it?" Daryl asked, wondering how in the world Michonne could think that anything like that could be for him.

"They're little onesies and…look…little pajamas!" Carol said. "They all say 'Daddy's Little Girl'!"

Daryl narrowed his eyes a little at the sound of her voice that she assumed. He was slightly disturbed by the fact that anything relating to his daughter was met with the same sound as anything related to Lincoln, but he wouldn't dare point it out. He reached over and took one of the bundles, examining it.

The clothes were ridiculously tiny. He wasn't even sure they'd fit a doll. He tried not to make eye contact with Merle, though he could feel his eyes burning into him. At least Andrea was apparently on her end of the couch holding Merle's mouth at bay with her own laser beams.

"They cute…but she ain't gon' be able ta wear 'em," Daryl said.

"Well, they might be a little big," Michonne said. "But she'll grow into them and bigger is better than too small."

Daryl looked at her.

"Too damn big?" He spat, not meaning for it to come out so shocked.

Apparently his tone of voice at the outburst was amusing to everyone because light laughter ran through everyone there.

"How big did you think she was going to be, Daryl?" Michonne asked.

Daryl bit at his thumb. He hadn't been around babies very much. He only saw them sometimes in stores and things like that, and he'd been around Michonne's kids, but he couldn't half remember anything about them. It had taken him this damn long just to learn their names.

Daryl shrugged a little.

"Like Celine, I reckon," he admitted. He hadn't really thought about it much, but the girl seemed to be about standard baby size.

He knew he was wrong immediately, though, when he heard a chuckle from several people coupled with Carol's declaration of "Good Lord, Daryl!"

Daryl felt his cheeks burn hot and he didn't really want to look at anyone. Apparently his kid was going to be what he figured to be smaller than a good sized baby doll and he hadn't even realized they came that little.

Carol reached, though, and closed her hand around him, as though to try to soothe over the embarrassment that he was afraid was showing on his face. He could only be thankful that no one was speaking at the moment, but that made it all that much clearer to him that everyone must know he'd embarrassed himself.

"Don't feel bad," Tyreese said suddenly. "I used to think that's about what size they started too. I had some serious respect for women who birthed the things…if you know what I mean. Then I saw my first newborn when my cousin had a baby and…"

Michonne interrupted him by clearing her throat loudly and obviously.

"And it didn't do a single thing to lessen my respect for the hard work and sacrifice that women put into having children," Tyreese finished.

Even Daryl couldn't help but laugh and he appreciated the man coming to his rescue and helping to draw the attention off of him.

"Good save," Michonne said.

"Thank you," Tyreese responded. "You know it's just the truth, though."

Daryl sat there, the garments on his lap, Carol's hand over his, absentmindedly stroking his hand with her thumb. He finally got over his embarrassment enough to thank Michonne for the clothes and pass them back to Carol, still not entirely sure that he even knew what to expect when his kid was born.

As the day wore on, though, it was the main topic of conversation among the women. In fact, eventually he'd gotten up with Merle, Axel, and Tyreese and the four of them had gone outside to look at Merle's bike and pretend to have a great interest in it just to escape the chatter of the women.

Even outside, though, Merle didn't enter into a pissing contest with Axel and Daryl felt proud of his brother for showing restraint…or whatever it was that kept him from trying to start something with the man.

Instead, actually what ended up happening was Merle ended up cranking his stupid ass bike and discussing in detail the problem he'd been having with Axel who claimed to have done his fair share of work on bikes and said he could help Merle get rid of the ticks that were left.

"Ya can finally get that shit out from under my damn carport," Daryl declared, when he heard Merle making plans to meet with Axel over there and get the bike actually running.

"Shut the fuck up, lil' brothah," Merle growled. "This here's a fine machine an' it weren't like ya was usin' this space for nothin'. Hell it's just a damn porch an' it's empty at that."

"Don't let Michonne hear that," Tyreese responded with a chuckle. "If you do she'll be over here with furniture tomorrow."

"Ya know she ain't gotta do that shit," Daryl responded.

Tyreese shrugged.

"You'll never tell that to Michonne, man…so don't even try," Tyreese said. "That's one woman that it's best to just sit back and let her do what she's gonna do."

It was Axel's turn to chuckle then.

"That ain't just Michonne," he responded. "That's all women…Tryin' to control a strong woman is like trying to lasso the wind. You might wear yourself out doing it, but you ain't gonna be no more in control at the end of the day than you was when you started."

Daryl didn't throw his two cents in, though he knew that they were right. He could admit that there was a good deal of the time when he just let Carol handle things her way simply because it wasn't worth trying to debate with her over whether or not her way was the best way.

Of course, he felt like things with him and Carol might be a little different than maybe they were with Tyreese and Michonne. He felt like Michonne had always had control in her life…maybe a little too much control…but Carol hadn't had that. It was something she seemed to like sometimes, and it surely wasn't hurting him, so he had a lot less interest in trying to control her than maybe some other man would have with his wife.

Daryl glanced at Merle, though, who was tinkering a little with the bike while they stood around talking, and wondered if the man had any indication that there was a whirlwind blowing around and it had his name all over it.