AN: I don't say it every time, but I wanted to tell you all thank you for your reviews. They're really wonderful and I do appreciate them even if I don't respond to each and every one of them. They keep me going! Because you're all wonderful, I thought I'd go ahead and give you the second Christmas chapter.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl woke up early Christmas morning to the sound of pounding on the door, distant. His first thought was that Andrea had come home early…really early…from spending the night at Merle's apartment where they'd left her the night before after they'd all strolled through the Christmas light show in the park…a show they were going back to see again tonight.
Daryl got up and pulled on his boxers, nearly tripping over Lincoln who was dancing around, apparently deciding that the pounding on the door meant it was the perfect time to go piss.
Carol mumbled something from the bed and Daryl didn't respond. On second thought he fumbled around in the clothes piled on the dresser and found the gingerbread men pajama pants that Andrea had given him as an early Christmas present, declaring that his present to her was that she didn't want to see his "junk" over breakfast on Christmas morning.
Daryl walked through the house, still semi dark from the fact that the morning had only just sprung in Sweet Junction, and let Lincoln out the side door as he passed it, heading for the door where the knocking was coming from.
When he got there, he pulled the door open in a sleepy fog, not expecting Hershel and Miss Jo to be standing just outside it, bundled up and loaded down. Daryl pushed open the glass door to let them pass, confused.
He knew that Merle and Andrea were coming later. Michonne and Tyreese were coming too for dinner, as was Axel, but this was really damn early and Carol hadn't said shit about Hershel and Miss Jo coming.
The two passed through the door, Miss Jo humming to herself about the cold.
"We didn't wake you did we?" She asked, coming in and putting a present on the bar. Hershel passed in carrying a small Christmas tree. "Hershel, I told you it was too early, we woke them up," she chided.
Hershel chuckled.
"It's Christmas…all the youngsters are up early on Christmas," Hershel offered.
Daryl just stood there trying to take in the sudden invasion of his house.
"I'll get the rest of the stuff out of the car," Hershel offered, putting the tree down in the kitchen floor and dipping back out the glass door while Daryl continued to rub his eyes.
Miss Jo turned toward him, smiling.
"Maggie's spending the day with Glenn," she said. "And Beth wanted to do some family thing with Jimmy's family. Our house was so empty this morning…we thought we might…spread a little Christmas cheer. We brought the makings for breakfast, I'm going to cook…and we brought the little tree out the front window. Hershel thought we could decorate it."
Daryl stared blankly at her and tried to will himself out of his stupor. He could only nod, though.
Daryl turned when he heard Carol coming, shuffling her feet along the floor and he hoped she was more dressed than he was. Their house was more or less a clothing optional house most of the time. Even with Andrea living there they'd all settled into a sort of comfort at varying levels of nudity.
Carol was dressed in pajama pants and a t shirt, though, so he figured she was good to go and tried not to laugh at how atrocious here hair looked. It was evident that they'd ended their Christmas Eve trying to scratch that damn itch of hers that never got scratched. Daryl reached up and ran his fingers through his own hair, hoping to smooth it down in case he too looked like he'd been rolling around with some ferocity in the sheets.
"Good morning!" Miss Jo hummed, rushing forward and catching Carol in a hug. "Merry Christmas!"
Carol narrowed her eyes and Daryl could tell she was barely conscious.
"Merry Christmas?" She mumbled, the statement coming out sounding much more like a question than anything she was sure of.
Hershel reemerged then, carrying so many bags that Daryl was snapped out of his stupor to get the door open so the old man could pass through before his arms broke off from the load he was carrying. Hershel grunted a thanks as he passed through the door and unloaded everything on the counter.
"Hershel an' Miss Jo come ta make us breakfast," Daryl said, glancing at Carol who was standing, her face covered in confusion, Miss Jo's arm around her shoulder.
Carol looked around a second and scratched at her head, slowly becoming aware of the rat's nest of auburn curls she was sporting. She looked back at Daryl.
"They brought us a tree for us all ta decorate," Daryl offered.
Carol smiled then, though it was a slow forming smile.
"Thank you!" She declared, her voice still heavy with sleep. "Merry Christmas…I can…help with breakfast."
"Nonsense!" Jo said quickly. "I'm making the breakfast. You and Daryl can help Hershel with the tree."
Daryl fumbled around a little helping Hershel sort through the bags to find the ones that contained food they brought and the ones that contained decorations for the little tree that Hershel took into the living room. Then, while Hershel worked at making the tree stand straight instead of crooked in the little stand it was in and got it water, Daryl started a fire in the fireplace.
In the kitchen, Carol was helping Miss Jo find everything that she wanted to make breakfast and Daryl smiled at the giggling gossip the women were sharing, almost sounding like girls.
It might not be how they'd planned to spend their Christmas morning, but plans were made to be broken.
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Andrea groaned a little, coming out of sleep. She blinked, realizing slowly that none of the night before had been a dream, though it certainly could have been.
Daryl and Carol had dropped her and Merle both off at his apartment. She'd climbed the stairs with him, wondering what in the hell was going on with Merle…what had happened to him. She wasn't entirely convinced that there wasn't something having to do with aliens to blame here.
And then they'd spent the night tangled up in bed together. It had been so much a replay of the night he'd stayed with her that it was almost like he had it all recorded or he was simply playing it by memory.
And now she was in that bed, warm and comfortable, the smell of them both surrounding her from the night before.
Merle lie next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist, snoring softly.
Andrea looked at him and thought that he even looked different right now. Gone was the crease between his eyebrows that she'd assumed was permanent from so much damn time spent scowling about one thing or another. In sleep he looked so much younger than he looked awake…so much younger than he even was.
Andrea sighed.
She didn't know what was going on with Merle, but a part of her feared that she would wake up at some point, or that he would wake up. She feared that it would be gone just as suddenly and inexplicably as it had begun and she didn't want to lose this…whatever this was.
She was ashamed at herself too, for the feelings that she felt pinballing around inside her. She was thinking things that she knew better than to think coupled with Merle Dixon, but she couldn't help herself. She was thinking things, even, that she considered for so long to be dangerous and foreign to herself. Yet her mind was going there.
She was afraid that she was really falling in love with Merle Dixon…and even worse, she was letting herself wonder if Merle Dixon could be falling in love with her.
Andrea knew she wasn't the kind of woman that any man should fall in love with. She wasn't the kind of person, really, that anyone should try to love.
Andrea had always assumed that she wasn't a person who was designed to be loved. Some people were made for it. They leant themselves easily to being loved. You met them and you just couldn't help yourself. Andrea wasn't one of those people, not at all. She never had been.
And there were things in her life…things in her past that she wasn't proud of. So much of the legend that had been built around her was false, but there was more truth to the legend than she cared to admit to anyone but herself. That truth, if it were known and not just a clanking pile of skeletons doing the rumba in her closet, would make her even less loveable than she already was.
But she'd wanted to believe…somehow…since finding Merle and Daryl…since finding two people just as, unlovable, perhaps as she was, that maybe there was a chance that someone, somewhere could love her. Since she'd found her friends…her first friends and her only friends…that maybe she was worthy of their friendship, and by extension, maybe even worthy of their love.
Still, she recognized that she was letting herself get swept up in fairy tales and make believe even as she lie here tangled in the sheets with Merle snoring softly beside her. She was letting herself believe that she was falling in love…an idea not too far-fetched…but also that it was safe to fall in love. She was letting herself believe that Merle Dixon, of all the people on the planet, might actually be falling in love with her…and that he might…if some terrible twist of fate ever ripped the lock off the closet and the dancing skeletons escaped…still love her despite knowing the truth about all that she was and all that she'd done.
It was all some kind of dream. Whether it was the kind you had when you were awake, or the kind you had when you were asleep, it was some kind of dream and she was at risk of waking from it. She sighed a little and rooted closer to the warmth of Merle's sleeping body.
Dream or not, though, she wanted to enjoy it just while she could. Maybe then, when she woke from it, she could still have it there in her mind for when she needed it. Just like the little match girl, she wanted to hold onto the flame for as long as she could before it died.
Merle stirred when Andrea rooted closer to him and moaned a little, his eyes opening to slits.
He smiled slightly.
"Mornin' darlin'," he growled, his voice gravely and thick.
Andrea smiled, feeling a lump in her throat that she didn't want to deal with.
"Mornin'," she responded, softly. "Merry Christmas."
Merle smiled again and moved his arm, rubbing at his face. He yawned.
"Merry Christmas ta ya too, sugah," he said. He rolled onto his back, stretching himself like some kind of animal and Andrea noticed the morning's tent that he made with the sheet.
"Mmm…" she hummed. "How about a little Christmas morning present?" She asked.
Merle glanced at her and then smirked when she directed her eyes toward the morning salute that his little Merle was offering.
Merle didn't say anything and Andrea slipped under the cover, taking him into her mouth. This was something she could do. It was something she was comfortable at. She could offer him this and know that he wouldn't be disappointed with it…and maybe his pleasure at the act would make the dream last just a little bit longer.
As she worked him, Merle moaned and bucked into her mouth, still sounding as though he hadn't roused entirely from his sleep. When he came, she swallowed down all that he offered her and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she came up from under the sheets.
She lingered away from him for the moment, knowing that most of the time Merle had a strict policy of not kissing her, or hardly getting near her for that matter, after she'd done what she'd just done.
"Thank ya," he said, his face relaxed and a little more awake than earlier. His breathing was rushed, but slowly calming.
Andrea smiled at him.
"You're welcome," she said, not remembering ever having been thanked for giving a blow job before. The closest she'd come, perhaps, to a thank you was some folded money slipped to her as someone zipped their pants.
Merle surprised her even more so by reaching out, rolling her nipple between his finger and his thumb and bringing his face to hers, catching her lips in a kiss that caught her so off guard that his tongue had to ask permission to gain access to her mouth.
Andrea felt like her brain couldn't process everything happening around her. Everything seemed so magical and so perfect that it had to be something that belonged to someone else. It couldn't be her life that she was living at the moment.
When Merle pulled out of the kiss he lingered above her for a second and then rolled over. She watched him get out of bed and leave the room, his white ass shining at her as he made his way toward the bathroom to relieve himself.
Andrea got up and followed him, not bothering to cover her own nakedness. From the bathroom she could hear the sounds of Merle relieving himself, coupled with his happy humming of a Christmas carol and she smiled.
"Do you have anything I can make for breakfast?" She called, heading toward the refrigerator.
"Prob'ly not if ya don't fancy a fuckin' beer," Merle growled, coming into the kitchen behind her. "Ain't had time ta go ta the store. We s'posed ta eat at Daryl's though…figure they might have somethin' ta hold our asses over 'til then."
Andrea nodded and turned around to face him.
"When do we go over there?" She asked.
Merle grunted.
"Just as soon as ya open ya fuckin' Christmas present…an' we get dressed. Thought we might take a shower. Ya smell like ya been fuckin' or sometin'."
Merle smirked at Andrea and she leaned in, sniffing his chest before bringing her tongue darting out to lick his nipple.
"You taste like sex," she said.
"Mmm…" Merle responded. "Taste pretty damn good then, don't I?"
Andrea nipped at his nipple gently and he tangled his hands in her hair, his fingers tugging at her tangled curls.
"You do," she said.
Merle broke away after a second and she watched as he walked over to the television. He reached around behind it and came out with a small box.
"Looka here, looka here," he declared. He whistled at the box. "Looks like Santy Clause done come ta see us. Musta come ta see you, 'cause I know I been one sorry fucker this year."
Andrea leaned against the counter, the cold fake wood of it cold on her ass. She couldn't keep herself from grinning and she was pretty sure she was blushing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been given a Christmas gift and she wasn't sure why it felt embarrassing to know that she was about to receive one.
Merle walked over, offering it to her with an outstretched arm.
Andrea took the small box wrapped in newspaper and held it in her hand, trying not to cry. The last thing she needed to do was cry. She knew that Merle wasn't fond of tears and she didn't want to do anything to end the dream so soon.
Merle passed his finger under her chin and tipped her face up, bringing his lips to hers in a deep kiss again.
"Open it, darlin'," Merle said. "Don't fuckin' cry on it."
Andrea realized that she was crying, despite her best efforts not to. She nodded a little and quickly unwrapped it, holding a black felt box in her hand. She felt her heart pounding at the prospect of the box. It could contain anything…and that was the truth. With Merle…especially with this Merle that she didn't even know…all things were possible.
Andrea flipped the lid on the box and inside there was a gold chain. Hanging on the chain was a little gold heart with something like a keyhole in the middle of it. Andrea stood there a minute, holding the box and looking at the necklace, unable to look at Merle or even say anything.
Merle responded by taking the box out of her hand and undoing the necklace from its captive position.
"Ain't never bought no fuckin' jewelry for a woman before," Merle said. He held the delicate chain up, its size a stark contrast to his fingers. "Told the man at the store what I was lookin' for…or what I thought I was lookin' for. He said ya'd like it."
Andrea looked at him and nodded, not trusting her voice.
Merle frowned.
"Ya don't like it," he said.
"No…I do!" Andrea said suddenly, disliking the fact that her voice came out all slobbery and sloppy sounding. She reached out and touched the little heart dangling from the chain and it rocked back and forth in his fingers. "I love it," she said.
"Lemme put it on ya," Merle said.
Andrea turned around, collecting her hair into her fist, and waited while Merle's big fingers fumbled with the tiny clasp. Finally the necklace fell around her neck and she turned around to face him again, completely aware that some of the tears she was trying to hold back were making a great escape from her eyes.
"See," Merle grunted. "I told ya that ya was spoken for. This here heart, see…'s gotta lock…'cause it's all locked up tight…can't nobody else get to it."
Andrea nodded her head slightly. She didn't know what she wanted from Merle…she didn't know what she wanted him to say, but she knew that this was likely all that Merle could say, and for him it was saying so much.
"Is it mine?" She asked. She swallowed and fingered the heart. "Is it mine that's locked up?"
Merle grunted.
"Could be, I reckon…" Merle said. "Mostly I figured it was mine…been locked up a long damn time."
"Shouldn't you be the one wearing this, then?" Andrea asked, wiping her nose on her arm and looking at him.
Merle cleared his throat.
"Nah…" he responded. "I give it to ya…reckon you the one oughta be wearin' it."
"Thank you for giving me the necklace," Andrea responded.
Merle nodded and turned away, heading toward the bathroom, presumably for the shower that he had already dictated would follow the gift giving.
"Weren't talkin' 'bout the necklace," Merle said.
Andrea stood a moment longer, leaning against the cold counter, and then she smiled a little, following him toward the bathroom to take a shower and get herself together for Christmas.