AN: This is just a little something for everyone. I wasn't going to update this one tonight, but it seems that I have no ability to sleep even though I'm dog tired…so here you go! Tomorrow night we get our premiere! Yippee!
This is just a little simple one…but it advances the story. It's "episodic" again.
I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!
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Rick had been working with the women on gun training and he was finally able to sign off that they'd passed the class and were able to carry concealed weapons. He'd also brought a few of his own weapons to make sure that they had no excuses not to be prepared if something were to happen, and Michonne was thankful to him for that.
After they'd finished with the final round of practice shooting, they'd all gathered in the small resting area of the store. It had a gun range in the back and was the place that the police used to practice, and also where they taught their classes. Hank Osprey ran the store, and had run it since he was a teenager and his grandfather had passed it to him to retire because of heart problems, and he appreciated the extra business that having the police frequent the place brought him.
Michonne figured, though, that the store was never on the verge of going belly up. When you lived in a small Georgia town there was one thing that you could be sure of…the only guns and ammo store with a range was not a business that would be shut down for lack of patrons.
Still, at two dollars a head per day to use the range, Hank was a gracious host to them and brought them bottles of water, leaving them to use the small lounge area to talk as long as Rick saw fit. He excused himself, saying he needed to run down the street for a bit, and asked Rick if he'd lock the door on his way out were they to leave before he returned.
Once Hank was gone and Rick seemed to think it was safe to speak to all of them with stark honest, he slid his chair closer to the ones that they were all occupying.
"You're all doing great…and your aim is improving," he said, glancing in Michonne's direction. She was under no false belief that her shooting was very good. She'd hit her target…at least somewhere, but she'd come nowhere near as close to what she was aiming at as Carol had, and even less so than Andrea was apparently a sharp shooter in disguise. "Keep coming down here," Rick continued. "Keep practicing. Shooting is like anything else. Practice makes perfect. Just remember, you never aim a gun at a person unless you're willing to use it."
"You better believe I'd shoot Ed square in the face if I had the chance…" Andrea said.
Rick held his hand up to her, shooting her a warning look.
"Don't say things that you don't want coming back to bite you," Rick warned. He lowered his voice a little, glancing back and forth between the three of them. "I can't tell you to kill a man…especially not in cold blood. It's very real that you could go to prison for something like that."
"Do we get conjugal visits?" Andrea asked, a smile spreading across her face.
Michonne wasn't sure if she hadn't picked up on the gravity with which Rick, who had spent most of the day teasing and joking with them while they practiced, was now addressing them or if the discussion made Andrea nervous and she was now employing a type of defense mechanism.
Rick shot Andrea a look, though, that cleared up that such jokes were no laughing matter at the moment and Michonne watched the facial expression fade from the woman's face.
"You didn't hear me say this," Rick said, "but if you have to…" he paused, "if you have to shoot…someone…in self-defense…you shoot to kill, but only in self-defense."
Carol and Andrea both nodded their understanding when Rick's eyes glided across them and Michonne nodded as well when he looked at her. She understood what he was saying. There were only certain things that the law, no matter who was pulling the strings on the marionettes, could get you out of and murder was a tricky subject, no matter what the situation was. It was one of the situations where sometimes innocent people went to prison for murders that should be considered public services while cold blooded killers walked free for senseless crimes. It was all in how the chips fell…and they were none too easy with the likes of the scoundrel Philip Blake roaming about the area and picking up cases every day.
"Has anyone seen him…around?" Michonne asked.
Rick looked at her and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was one of his telltale signs for when he was stressed or he didn't particularly care for the way things were going or how he imagined they might go. Michonne knew that Rick would be a poor poker player.
"He's like the damn Lochness Monster or Bigfoot," Rick said. "People say every day that they've seen him…here or there…and yet he never actually shows up."
Michonne knew what Rick was saying was true. Ed had become something of a legend in the parts since the whole thing had been blown up all over the gossip chains of Sweet Junction and the surrounding areas. People who never had an interest in the man…people who never cared before what had happened between Ed and Carol…they were popping up all over the place now and chatting about where he might be and when he might return to the town. It seemed to be the most exciting thing that had happened since everyone thought it was going to be something like a scene out of some old Western movie and he'd come riding into town like Black Bart.
"But there's been no hard evidence that he's even around?" Michonne asked, casting a glance at Carol who was clearly interested in the conversation but who was also wearing a blank expression.
Rick shook his head.
"As far as I know?" He asked. "No. I haven't seen him. No one I know and trust to tell the truth instead of spreading stupid gossip has said anything about seeing him."
"So maybe he got smart and took a hike," Andrea offered, no longer trying to be amusing.
Rick shrugged and sighed.
"Maybe, and that's what we're hoping for, but just in case you're all to be prepared. Ed has a reason to dislike each of you…he has a reason to dislike me too. I don't care what Philip Blake would sell to every asshole that was on that journey, but Ed Peletier isn't a stable man and I don't trust him as far as I could throw him," Rick said.
Carol chuckled.
"You're telling me…" she said.
Michonne knew that Carol was concerned and she had every reason in the world to be so. Ed might have a problem with Michonne for getting him put in prison in the first place and for costing him what little amount of property he had. He might have a problem with Rick for being part of the behind the scenes action to making sure that he landed in prison in the first place and for fighting in court with Philip Blake to keep Ed there. He might even have a problem with Andrea for having been involved in the attack that sent his sorry ass to prison. But above all, it was clearly Carol with whom Ed would have the largest problem. It was from whom he'd spent so much time in his life trying to collect some kind of payment for an unexplained debt she never owed him.
"Keep the guns close," Rick said. "In the cars…in the houses…on your person if you can have them. Keep them out of sight as best you can in establishments that request you don't carry them and I'll make sure my boys turn a blind eye…just be prepared. Ed might not show up again…hell, he might be the stuff of legends now, but it's a chance that no one needs to take that he might show back up at some point."
"If it's self-defense though," Andrea started, "if he shows back up and he's after one of us…then we can shoot him?"
Rick shot her another look and she shrugged a little. Rick made a face.
"If something happens…show him you have the gun…show him that you're willing to use it if you have to, but do not shoot him if you don't have to. Just make sure, and like I said before, you didn't hear this from me, that if you do shoot him, you make sure you shoot him to stop him."
All of the women nodded and Rick nodded at them, all silently sealing the information that had been shared among them. Rick couldn't advise them, legally, to kill a man, and they all had enough sense to know that. Michonne also knew that Andrea and Carol had enough insight these days to understand how things sometimes worked in the law system…especially in Sweet Junction…and they had enough sense to keep their mouths shut about delicate issues.
Before they left, each of them thanked Rick for the classes and for helping them. Rick provided each of them with one of his personal firearms "on loan" and a box of ammunition, arguing that if they needed more for practice sake then they could simply get it from Hank and have Hank take it up with him.
They'd left, then, and headed home, exhilarated by the practice but also stricken silent by the reminder that someone very real might make them use the guns for more than shooting at paper targets.
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The dinner had happened somewhat accidentally. No one had intended to have some large affair. Luckily, though there was enough hamburger meat in the freezer to make burgers for everyone and Andrea had volunteered herself to stand over the skillet and take her time cooking all of them to each one's specifications. Granted the food preparation took a little time, but no one was really complaining.
When they'd gotten back to the house from training with Rick, Merle was under the carport tinkering on his bike with Axel. There were a few empty beer bottles that suggested the men were doing as much partaking of beverages as they were mechanical work, but both were engaged in a hearty and somewhat jovial conversation so no one had said anything to either of them about their little pow wow.
Michonne had come in, presumably to stay for only a few minutes, but she'd ended up getting a call from Tyreese about what to do about dinner and Carol had overheard her in time to insist that she stay and tell Tyreese to come by. The plan had been sealed when Tyreese had offered to swing by the daycare that kept the girls when Michonne needed to leave them there and pick up Anjelica and Celine.
So clearly, if Michonne and Tyreese were going to have dinner there, then it was only reasonable and polite that Axel and Merle stay.
And when Daryl arrived home with beer in tow, knowing already that his brother planned to work on the bike and therefore would partake of libations, then it had sort of turned into a dinner party without anyone even being sure how it had happened.
So Andrea stood at the stove and cooked burgers on a skillet while everyone crowded around in the kitchen, some drinking beer and others sipping iced tea, keeping her entertained with the chatter about the wonderful and delightfully boring comings and goings of the residents of their sleepy little town.
"We all better watch Andrea," Michonne teased. "She's been voted most likely to go to prison for becoming an outlaw or something. I think she likes that gun a little too much."
"It would be all women, right?" Andrea responded, not turning her attention away from the burgers.
"Sugah…I don't reckon they got no co-ed prisons," Merle said, sucking at the bottle in his hand. He chuckled. "Ya might find ya a nice piece a pussy, though."
Andrea snickered.
"Never know," she said. "Might like it…seems to do something for men. Might be something to it."
Merle chuckled.
"Don't'cha go shootin' my ass just ta find out," Merle said.
"All jokes aside," Axel offered, "ya don't wanna do nothing that's gonna land ya in prison. Ain't as bad as they show it on television…at least not if ya end up with the right group of people, but it ain't nothing ya'd wanna do voluntarily, if ya catch my drift."
Andrea turned her head a moment, glancing at him over her shoulder as he leaned against the bar with a beer bottle in one hand and Michonne's youngest balanced on his hip and tugging at his mustache.
"Are you saying you've been to prison?" Andrea asked.
Axel chuckled slightly.
"Well…yes'm…I've been. Did fourteen months at state," Axel said.
"You never mentioned that before," Andrea said.
"Beg pardon," Axel replied, "but it ain't exactly what one might use for a type of openin' conversation."
Everyone laughed then.
"What did you go to prison for?" Carol asked.
"Was a case of bein' in the wrong place at the wrong time, and being tangled up with the wrong kinda people," Axel said.
"That's how it works out most of the time," Michonne responded.
"Yes'm," Axel agreed. "Anywho…I got busted with some pharmaceuticals that I was holding onto for a friend…some friend, right? Didn't know they was stole and didn't know that my buddy was gonna turn me in when he felt like the heat was on him. Weren't no good situation. Did my time though…paid my debt to society."
"I bet you were the gentleman of the cell block," Carol teased. "I can't see you in prison for a minute!"
"I can't either, to be honest," Andrea said, shaking her head slightly.
Axel chuckled at that.
"I got along with most ever'body in there," he admitted. "Kinda scary if ya think about it, but they weren't all bad people. I thought when I went in that I'd be running up against a whole bunch of rough fuckers that just wanted to pound me around a bit. Truth is, though, that I kinda ended making friends with some of the guys. They were just victims of their circumstances."
"Ain't we all?" Merle responded.
The conversation dropped after that, mostly because Andrea announced that burgers were ready and it was every man for himself. They didn't have buns, but they had bread and people could learn to make do with what they had if they were hungry enough. Andrea figured Axel wouldn't mind and chuckled to herself at the thought. Her cooking might not be superior and she wasn't likely to become a chef any time soon, but it had to beat the hell out of prison food if nothing else.
Once they were all around the table, Michonne having satisfied her eldest with a small plate of food that she rested on the couch and ate from in bites while she ran around playing with the dog, and her youngest by trying out the new high chair that she'd brought over for Carol and Daryl had put together to tuck into the corner, the conversation turned to babies as it often did.
"You did a good job with this," Michonne said, looking at Daryl and tapping the tray on the high chair with her finger before offering a French fry to the baby and going back to her own "Redneck Burger" as they'd dubbed the makings of the meal.
"Weren't too bad," Daryl said. "Pretty straightforward."
"Once I got him to finally read the directions," Carol offered.
As with most things, Daryl had gone about the thing blind, tossing the instructions to the side and attempting to put the damn thing together based solely on instinct that he didn't possess but his pride wouldn't let him admit that he didn't possess. It was only after the amount of curse words that he was using began to exceed the speed limit for most areas that Carol and Andrea both had set about convincing him to just let them help a little…which essentially boiled down to letting them take turns reading the directions to him in an attempt to fix whatever mess he'd already made and keep him from making an even bigger mess.
"Well, you did well," Michonne said, winking at Carol.
"So have y'all picked out a name yet or what?" Tyreese asked.
Carol shook her head.
"Not yet…" she said. "We haven't really talked about it."
"You've got time for that," Michonne said. "You don't want to just randomly pick something…make sure it has some meaning to it."
"Where'd ya get the names for ya rugrats?" Merle asked.
Michonne chewed the bite of food in her mouth and swallowed.
"Anjelica was Dean's mother's name," Michonne offered. "Celine was my grandmother."
Everyone somewhat nodded their understanding and there were a few assorted hums and grunts, but no one ventured any farther down the path of baby names. Andrea didn't even want to begin to think what Merle might name a kid if given the chance. For some reason she just didn't think Fucker Dixon had a nice ring to it.
"They're starting up a new round of childbirth classes down at the Y," Michonne offered. "You two should sign up."
"Already?" Carol asked, wrinkling her brow.
Michonne shrugged.
"It doesn't matter when you do them," Michonne said. "It's not like the information is going to expire or like they're really going to come out with a whole lot of new information before Lil' Bit gets here."
"What the fuck ya need classes for?" Merle asked. "Pretty damn straightforward, ain't it? She screams…kid comes out…happy birthday lil' fucker."
Andrea couldn't help but laugh and nearly choked on the food in her mouth. Tyreese leaned over from where he was sitting and pounded her on the back to keep her from dying right then and there at Merle's description of childbirth.
"What the hell kinda classes is they?" Daryl asked. He looked worried.
"Just classes about…well…just about everything. Things before the baby comes…things after the baby comes…different techniques and possibilities for the actual birth," Michonne said. "I actually took the classes with both of the girls. I picked up information the second time around that I missed the first time."
Daryl scratched at the back of his neck.
"I don't know 'bout no classes," Daryl said.
"Hell, Daryl here damn near flunked outta kindie-garden," Merle said. He laughed. "Don't reckon he'd do no damn better in these classes."
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl shot at his brother. Andrea shot Merle a look, but he was in a beer goggle zone that made him immune to her warnings.
"Ya know if ya flunk the damn class they don't let'cha keep the kid," Merle said.
Daryl looked a little panicked and Andrea wished she had the magical ability to extend her arm all the way to where Merle was located and smack him in the back of the head. She considered, for a moment, playing the pass it down game with a good hard slap.
"That's not true," she interjected quickly. "Daryl…even I know that. Nobody takes your kid away."
Michonne chuckled.
"No, they don't even take your kid away if you accidentally break the head off one of the plastic babies," Michonne said. "And I know that for a fact. It's not like a real class in school or anything…there aren't tests."
"The big test comes at the end," Tyreese said, chuckling. "When you get to the finish line…that's when the test really starts."
"You might actually like it, Daryl," Michonne said. "They're very informative."
"We'll talk about it," Carol interjected. "We'll figure out what we want to do, won't we?"
Daryl nodded at her and Andrea realized the wheels were going probably a million miles a minute in Daryl's head. She looked toward Merle who was sitting there with a shit eating grin on his face and watching his brother and she tried to telepathically tell him that if he fucked with Daryl anymore about the baby she would make damn sure he never got another piece of ass in his life…and she had a gun and good aim to back that shit up. It might be illegal to kill a man, but she wasn't sure how damn long she'd have to do prison time for shooting Merle's dick off.
Luckily, though, Merle must have felt her eyes boring into him because he glanced in her direction and a few seconds later the smirk fell off his face. They abandoned the baby conversation entirely because Merle was the one to strike up the next topic, beginning a discussion with Tyreese about some work they were looking into.
Andrea smiled to herself. Dinner was going to go just fine. Merle was behaving himself with Axel…even seeming, perhaps, to have made a new friend…and now he was behaving with Daryl at least a little. Andrea was suddenly wondering what all the great powers she'd had all this time and never known about were. She didn't know all of them, of course, but it was becoming evident that she possessed, at least to some degree, some basic powers for controlling Merle Dixon's mouth and behavior. She ate her burger and enjoyed the rest of the conversation with some zest, almost drunk off of all the power she'd wielded throughout the course of this day.