AN: So this is just one of the filler/character development/plot development/etc. chapters.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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A few days of dragging wood back to the community and it was time to start making some of the planks that they would use and storing them in one of the unused houses to make more room for however much more wood they would need to haul.
The process might have been overly daunting to begin if they hadn't seen and done enough working with the other group, but as it was, they already had an idea of where to start and how to organize themselves.
And it was an all hands on deck kind of project. Luckily, the people in the community knew each other well that there was little need for communication beyond a few simple commands or requests here and there, otherwise things might have gotten out of hand quickly and easily.
Planks were being cut, by hand, by a number of people paired off into groups of two. Those who lacked the stamina or upper body strength for the long term sawing of the double saws were responsible for moving planks, sanding them, treating them with what they had on hand to treat them with…more being necessary to acquire before too long, and stacking them for safe keeping when it was time.
Since the work required numerous breaks if you didn't want to completely wear yourself out, people worked throughout the day in shifts, and pretty much everyone let each person decide for themselves what was enough before they sauntered off to take a quick break somewhere.
And Michonne loved it. She loved each and every moment of the sawing.
Years ago, in a life so distant that it almost no longer felt like her own…it felt more like a movie that she'd seen or a dream that she'd had…she might have called someone insane if they'd even suggested that she take the handle of one of the large saws into her hands. Her world full of wine and cheese and rubbing elbows with snobby assholes she didn't even like to make a name for herself…to build a reputation for herself…that world would have made her say it would be ridiculous to suggest that she would enjoy even the bite of the blisters that formed on her hands.
Being there, in the community, working until she was covered in sweat and sawdust and just as dirty and smelly and tired as everyone else at the end of the day…it made her feel so alive. And when she slept, she slept deeper and easier than she'd ever slept before in a world where she worried about people's opinions and what they might say behind her back.
"Keep up, Dixon!" She teased. "You're getting out of line and these boards are going to be warped because of you!"
Daryl chuckled as he gave the saw a hard tug, pulling her forward quicker than she'd anticipated and jerking her slightly so she laughed at him.
"You could give an old man a damn break sometime, ya know?" Daryl teased back at her. "Workin' my ass like they ain't no tomorrow…"
Daryl, like most of them, was soaking wet with sweat. His ever growing comfort with everyone around…and their almost unquestioned acceptance of one another…had led him to boldly discard his shirt like the other males in the group…and the heat had led Michonne to consider implementing the new rule that women be allowed to dress as immodestly as well. Her own clothes were soaked and she wasn't under any false belief that the soaking wet tank top she wore, sans bra, was doing much to keep things to the imagination if that was the goal.
It wasn't long before Carol came around, pushing her wheelbarrow loaded with water buckets, a system that Michonne had created for taking the strain out of carrying the buckets, and commanded that it was break time for them…get some water…take a breather.
Michonne gladly accepted one of the cups and drank down two dips of water without stopping. She wanted more, but she also knew that with the heat, and given the fact that the water had to be purified and they had no refrigeration…so it wasn't exactly cold, that she would be sick if she drank too much, too quickly.
Daryl drank down a couple of swallows of the water, refilled his cup, and walked off with it, apparently going to speak to Tyreese a moment as he took a break with Jimmy, his sawing mate.
"You're on water duty alone?" Michonne asked, panting a little now that she'd given her body permission to stop its constant activity.
Carol nodded her head.
"Muh is up at the headquarters with the children…and Lisette is overseeing some of the cooking…I think Mercedes is with her," Carol offered. "But I knew you'd all be hot down here. We can't have people falling over from heat stroke and dehydration."
"You could work on coming up with some kind of refrigeration system for us…you know? A little ice might be nice right now…a cold shower," Michonne teased.
"Damn," Carol teased back. "I was going to do that right after dinner…but you've ruined the surprise now so I guess I won't."
Michonne took a little more of the water and splashed herself with it, though it did little to cool down her body's temperature, and glanced in the direction where Daryl was standing and talking to Tyreese…the same direction Carol was looking in.
"I think you're just coming down here to gawk at Tyreese without his shirt on," Michonne said.
She caught Carol blush slightly before she reached over and tugged the cup out of her hand, dropping it back in the bucket, not offering a verbal response.
"I'll tell Daryl to get back to work," Carol said. "You've got to work to earn your supper, isn't that how it goes around here?"
Michonne chuckled as she watched Carol push the wheelbarrow forward, making the rounds, and she waited for Daryl to get back, taking his position, his muscles already bulging in anticipation, so they could begin slowly progressing more in their work.
"Ty said he set somethin' up for tonight," Daryl said. "Said don't say nothin', though…"
Michonne raised her eyebrows at him, yanking back on the saw.
"Private party or something?" She asked, glancing around to assure herself of what she already knew, no one was paying them any attention at all.
Daryl chuckled lightly.
"Hell if I know, 'Chonne," Daryl said. "He ain't said all that damn much about it…just told me ta tell ya an' ta tell ya not to go runnin' ya mouth."
Michonne didn't know what Tyreese might have planned, but she was game for just about anything as long as she got all the basics…her dinner, hopefully something sweet doled out by Muh, a good bath, and her children down to sleep at a reasonable hour with the promise they'd stay that way for a while. Anything else was just icing on the cake these days.
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The gathering that Tyreese had put together was actually quite nice in Michonne's opinion. It was, essentially, a private party, if it could really be called a party.
After the kids had gone to bed, Sadie and Rick had come over and Glenn and Maggie had come. Paul and Lela were both sleeping on a pallet made for them in the other room downstairs, so that they could be heard if they woke up, but they wouldn't be woken by any chatter that didn't get too loud, until their parents were ready to leave, and all the adults were all lounging around in the living room, lit by the small oil lamps.
Muh had discovered that during the canning process, several jars of peaches that Carol had put up hadn't sealed correctly…and they had fermented…and the beverage, although nauseatingly sweet, was alcoholic enough that just a few swallows was enough to get anyone to pass directly to the buzzed state of being…and that was about as far as any of them would dare to go at this point in their lives.
But it was a nice way to end a day, and Michonne wasn't complaining as she shared the couch with Daryl.
Tyreese occupied one of the chairs in the living room and Carol sat somewhat draped across his lap. Glenn sat in the other chair with Maggie on the floor, leaning back between his legs, and Rick and Sadie sat side by side, their backs supported by the base of the fireplace.
They'd been discussing the wood cutting process…but now the conversation had swung to the newest inhabitants of their community.
And they could easily agree on most points.
Namely, they could agree that Lisette was well-liked by everyone. The easy feeling that she gave Michonne was apparently universal. She was simply that…easy to relate to, easy to be comfortable with, easy to talk to. She had the natural ease of a person who is friends with the whole world and never meets a stranger.
Calista, her daughter, was another one that they could agree on. Calista…no matter if she looked like her father or not…had inherited her mother's easy going personality. She laughed often and smiled more, and she had an interesting and slightly off color sense of humor that got everyone's attention because her wit came mostly from the fact that she spoke ironically often and, because of her normally gentle nature, it left people trying to figure out if she was serious or not…a giggle or a quick touch to the arm having been their indication until now that she wasn't, but she enjoyed the shock value that she could get out of them.
But there were other things that they agreed on as well, and once they got started talking about them, Michonne and Carol both spent some of their time reminding the men…who seemed to be doing more of the partaking of the peach beverage than the women…that they had to keep their voices down to avoid waking the little one.
"No…but she's just…rude," Glenn stressed.
Mercedes…
Michonne had not quite been able to pinpoint why it was that the girl rubbed her wrong. She still wasn't positive either. There wasn't any particular thing that she said or she did that you could point and say "that right there…that's it"…but there was something about her that was off putting, especially in contrast to the other two women that had travelled with her for so long.
"Maybe she's not rude," Carol offered. "Maybe she's just not comfortable yet…"
Maggie shook her head adamantly, scooting toward the table to drink another swallow of the peach drink out of one of the small plastic cups they had…the plastic cups that had once been used for measuring cold medication.
"No…I agree with Glenn," Maggie said, putting the little cup down. "She asked me where Lela's mother was."
Michonne saw Carol shrug at her from across the room.
"But…if you don't know the situation…that's a normal question. What happened to her mother?" Carol said. "I mean…she asked about Judith…and I just…you know, told her."
"No…no, I know what they're talking about," Rick offered. "She said something to Sadie the other day…something about…"
He stopped talking, tapped Sadie on the shoulder, and Michonne was impressed to see that he was picking up enough rudimentary signing skills from her to get her to understand his question without words.
But Sadie shrugged.
"Oh…I don't remember…" she said. She shrugged again. "Something…about why I wasn't dead."
Michonne snorted, not so much at the question, but at Sadie's complete lack of interest, or at least the expression she put on to demonstrate her complete lack of interest in the girl.
"She asked me why I was with Carol," Tyreese offered.
Carol shifted around in his lap, raising her eyebrows at him.
"And you told her it's because I was the last available option?" She offered him.
Michonne couldn't help but grunt at that one and she heard Daryl make a similar noise simultaneously. Tyreese chuckled at it and looked into the plastic cup that he was drinking out of…one that advertised some long forgotten gas station chain…and then took a drink of the peach liquid.
"I haven't had enough of this cough syrup to walk into that trap…" he teased. "I told her it's because you're beautiful…and talented…"
"And funny…" Glenn offered.
Tyreese chuckled.
"And funny…" he added.
Carol laughed at him but settled back into her original position, mumbling something that sounded like asshole.
"OK…but it's not what she says," Glenn said after a minute. "I mean these are all examples…but it's not her words…"
Michonne leaned forward, Daryl's arm around her waist holding her onto the couch well enough that she didn't feel any fear of falling off despite her acrobatics driven mostly by laziness and a reluctance to change her position entirely, and poured a little more of the burning, sweet liquid into her own plastic cup from one of the ill sealed jars.
"You're right," she offered, as Daryl so kindly tugged her back into position without her having to make the request and she leaned back against him, running her fingertips over his arm affectionately. "It's not what she says…it's her voice."
She hadn't meant to be so blunt about it, but apparently what she'd said had come out sharply enough that it solicited a snort from Maggie.
"Her voice? Just her voice…this girl makes everyone want to choke her…because of her voice," Maggie declared.
Michonne laughed then because she realized how the statement had sounded. It was essentially what she was saying…but she wasn't sure it was what she meant. Much like Glenn, she knew what she was trying to say, but she wasn't even positive what words she could string together to express it as clearly as she wanted to.
"OK…it's not what she says," Rick offered, pointing at Glenn with the arm he had loosely hung around Sadie's shoulders. "And it's not her voice…" he said, pointing now at Michonne. "It's how she says the things she says…"
Then it was Michonne's turn to point.
"I know what it is!" She declared, still mindful of the sound level that they were trying to maintain. "I know exactly what it is...she's got that tone of voice…like that person that everyone's come into contact with. The person who acts like they're already done with you, or like they have some long standing issue with you, when they've really just met you."
Michonne nodded her head. She knew that voice well. She'd had a few clients like that from time to time in her career. Usually somebody that would make her blood pressure go through the roof because, for whatever reason, they thought that they were somehow superior to her…despite the fact that she could have easily pointed it out that it was them on the wrong side of the metal bars, or them that needed her to provide assistance.
But there were always those people that, despite the fact that they weren't really anything special and they weren't really in any sort of place of power…they seemed to feel like they were a cut above the rest, and like they had the right to look down their noses at people who were, by all definition, doing much better than they were.
"That's it…" Glenn agreed after a second. "That's it…it's like some of the people I met when I used to deliver pizzas. They'd order the pizza…and you're just the delivery guy, you know? So you get the pizza, you get the address, and that's it…but they'd want to…almost fight with me about the company's prices. Like I had any control over that."
He chuckled after a moment.
"Used to stiff me on tips, too," he said.
"She's young, though," Maggie defended. "She's probably still a teenager…she might be what? Maybe twenty?"
"Well," Daryl responded, shifting himself around enough so that his chin rested lightly on Michonne's shoulder, "we got us a handful a' young'uns 'round here don't have to go around bein' assholes…so she best grow outta that right quick like."
"Bite back…" Michonne said.
"Huh?" Daryl mumbled in her ear.
Michonne shook her head, tasting again the sweet drink.
"Bite back," she repeated. "If she bites you…bite her back…but the same way. Eventually, she'll stop…she's probably looking to see if she's going to get the upper hand on someone."
Everyone was looking at her and she shrugged slightly, smirking.
"Don't lie…you know we all did it," Michonne said. "We all went through stages where you met new people and you tried to figure out if there was going to be anyone there that you were going to be able to get the best of…the world has changed, or it hasn't if you listen to Muh…but humans? We haven't changed a bit. Bite her back…she'll learn."
"You got a little bit a' the devil in ya, 'Chonne," Daryl teased.
Michonne laughed at him.
"Just let Carol throw a spider on her…" Maggie offered, bringing about another round of laughter.
"My spider throwing days are over," Carol offered. "I don't know if I'd survive someone flipping a chair and landing on top of me anymore…but Michonne does have a point. Just bite hard enough to let her know that around here, you're either a team player, or you're in a very bad position to be in."
"All else fails…" Daryl offered after a moment. "We just give Libby a good damn reason ta kick her ass…or Sadie…was Sadie that took Libby's ass down a notch, weren't it?"
Michonne waved her hand in the air, getting Sadie's attention.
"Was it you who fought with Libby?" Michonne asked.
Sadie looked at her and shrugged, looking around the room, obviously confused by not having bothered to try to follow the conversation. Michonne waved at her to dismiss her confusion, letting her know it wasn't anything serious.
"Do you want to fight with Mercedes? Or should one of us do it?" Michonne asked, smiling broadly enough to let Sadie know it was a joke.
Sadie shrugged.
"Whatever…I have time before breakfast…" She offered.