This chapter wasn't intended to exist, but there was some curiosity over the way Grace was acting so...you know what? I think it worked out good though.
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Damballah III
**Old Missy**
As soon as it neared Annie's bedtime, as soon as the night air began to chill them as they sat around the campfire, she headed inside, knowing full well he'd be at her heels as he seemed to do as of late.
The idea of bearing a child was still sitting heavy in her mind, she didn't much care for the idea, it seemed racy enough that she slept in the same bed with the bold Cajun, but the thought of engaging in 'other' activities with him didn't seem like it was something for her. Well, not in the immediate future anyways.
Inside the dorms, after they all did their pre-bedtime rituals, settling Annie in for bed with the Cajun hovering just behind her to say his goodnights to the little girl, Grace smiled as Boo curled up right under Annie's chin, the small dog nuzzling her muzzle into the space between Annie's chest and throat.
"Do you think if we threw the Lieutenant from the bell tower, he'd be able to fly if he really wanted to?"
Grace laughed as behind her the Cajun's face fell and he looked genuinely shocked.
"It wouldn't hurt him if he fell, he'd land in the walnut tree." Annie insisted.
"Possede," the Lieutenant scolded lightly, easing onto the bed beside Grace to tip Annie's chin up and tap her nose in quick succession.
Playfully snapping her teeth at his hand, Annie squealed as he then leaned down and blew a raspberry against her cheek.
"Your beard scratches," she complained, still giggling.
"He's going to get shaved before bed, honey," Grace insisted firmly, giving the Cajun a stern look.
He beamed at her. "Of course, wouldn't want people to think civilization has fallen."
"We could throw Mother Mena off the bell tower too, she'd want to be in the tree with you." Annie pointed out, completely jumping topics as children often did.
"Would she?"
"Um-hm, and then you'd be K-I-S-S-I-N-G," she broke off with a giggle.
"Only a month ago you could barely spell 'hello'," the Lieutenant teased. "And now you're spelling dirty things about me and Mother Mena in a tree."
Annie reached up with both arms and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him down to touch her nose to his. "I love you," she whispered softly.
Grace smiled as the soldier touched his pointed nose to Annie's, rubbing it with a grin.
"Je t'aime, boo." He whispered, before kissing her forehead. "Now get some sleep, yeah?"
"Um-hm."
Grace swooped in at last, tucking Annie in carefully, adjusting the bedding around her, before leaning down and kissing her cheek. "You know where we'll be if you need us."
"What if I need to come in and you're kissing?" Annie asked.
"Doesn't matter, sweetheart," Grace insisted, "because that's all we'll be doing."
"What's breeding?" Annie asked suddenly.
"Of all things," Grace huffed, casting a quick glance in the direction of the Cajun standing at the end of Annie's bed. Even in the dark she could see his damned eyes twinkling devilishly. "That word is one you don't need to worry about for a long time."
"Is it dirty?" The little girl went on. "Is breeding what you and the Lieutenant do when nobody is around."
Grace felt her face go white hot and she began to shake a little, her nerves touched. "Annie Louise," she warned sternly. "Bedtime."
"Must be dirty," the little one muttered.
"Annie," the Lieutenant stepped in, his tone actually holding some command to it.
Watching as the little one immediately clamped her eyes shut and feigned sleeping, Grace turned to the Cajun in mild shock. She had never heard that tone from him before, and while it wasn't mean, it was strict and she had a sneaking suspicion it came from years of instructing Marines.
Slipping out of Annie's room, she allowed Lafayette to close the door behind them, before turning to him curiously.
In the near dark she tried to read his eyes for any hint that he was actually angry, but found him looking as benign as ever.
"Sometimes just a little spice with the sugar," he pointed out, as though reading her mind. "Or they'll walk all over you," he finished with a grin.
"Are you talking children or Marines, Fate?" She inquired.
"Both very similar," he pointed out, holding open the door into the lavatory for her, grabbing the heavy plastic jug they kept just inside the door for use for oral hygiene things.
The thought of Milton getting the washroom up and running again sounded like bliss, something Grace didn't ever admit, but she enjoyed the clean feeling of running water.
..-~-..
..-~-..
"So," he began, after spitting in the drain, setting his toothbrush aside, "you've been tense and nervous like a wild filly all evening…"
Still working at her back molars, she eyed him in the mirror as he stood at her side at the sink. Leaning forward, she politely spit, trying hard not to make a production out of it.
"Have I?"
"I'm thinking," he went on, "that it's either one of two things. One, you realized - with all this breeding talk - that eventually our relationship may culminate in sex or two, you don't like children."
Rinsing out her toothbrush, she set it beside his in the cup that seemed packed with toothbrushes, most of them scrawled on in permanent marker on the handles. The sisters used to keep their toiletries with them in their rooms before the abominations, but with people changing beds almost nightly, it was just easier for them to keep their toiletries labelled into the bathroom.
She turned to the soldier, who was struggling to remove his sling. Reaching out she helped him, quietly sliding it off his shoulder and unbuttoning the row of fake pearl buttons that stood down the front of his shirt. Until his shoulder healed she had given him button ups to wear, but she had to admit she missed his khaki tees. They were more him and more familiar.
"So?" He asked, opening and closing his hand as his arm was freed from the sling. "How can I help you, magpie?"
Quietly lifting the bandages on his shoulder wound, she inspected it, before pulling the gauze and tape off completely.
"You can help me," she said, rinsing a cloth under the water from the jug and gently daubing at his wound to clean it, "by going a little easier on yourself. You'll heal faster if you take it easy, honey."
Frowning a little, before a wicked look flickered over his face, he tilted his chin down and smiled at her, one eyebrow rising ever so. "So, you want me to stay in bed then?"
"I would like it if you took a few days in bed, yes."
"I get bored just lying around in bed, cher. At one time, incentive had been discussed, but…"
Rubbing the salve on his wound that Glenn had found for her, Grace smiled gently at her Cajun, unable to really be offended by his wicked ways when he was standing so battered and broken before her. His ribs were still green and yellow from where he'd been kicked, his shoulder and neck still healing around the sterilized fishing line Mrs. Douglas had used on him, his face drawn and pale from effort and what she feared was a mild infection somewhere.
"So?" He urged. "Tell me what's wrong and I'll see what I can do to fix it."
She smiled at him widely, hand resting over the fresh bandage she had just slipped over his wound, reaching for the medical tape they kept in a little lidded soap dish beside the sink. "It's not broken plumbing, my love," she teased. "You can't take a monkey wrench and start twisting some pipes."
Grasping her by the hips, the Cajun hefted her up off the ground and deposited her on the counter beside the sink.
"Lafayette," she scolded quickly, "your arm."
"Don't care," he murmured, caging her in with his arms on either side of her hips, leaning down to look her in the eye. "What's wrong, magpie? Getting cold feet about our relationship?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're impossible, you giant redwood," she stated, pushing him away gently. "Of course not. Stay there," she ordered, spreading her legs to open the cabinet between them, bending down to reach inside for his shaving kit. As she straightened up with the little black leather case, she found him smirking at her and scowled. "May as well civilize you while I'm up here," she pointed out.
"You're avoiding the topic," he said.
"I'm getting to it," she replied snappishly, wetting a face cloth to dampen his face. She paused to play with the fringe of dark hair that was beginning to flop across his forehead and smiled. "You'll need a haircut soon," she mused to herself.
Dropping his mouth to hers, the Cajun took a moment to kiss her generously, both arms moving to embrace her tightly, trapping the cloth and her hand between them. Because he was such a force, she kissed him back, not at all regretful that she was 'forced' to.
In his arms things seemed to matter a lot less than they did when she was just floundering on the wind by herself. She had to admit that the strength she felt, pressed against his hard body as she was, didn't hurt the feeling of security he gave her.
Freeing her trapped hand, she dropped the cloth and slid her palm over his side gingerly, mindful of his bruises. His stubble scratched her chin and rasped roughly over her lips as he moved his mouth down from hers, heading towards her neck.
Grace dropped her head back, allowing him to continue, smiling a little at the ceiling overhead. The stubble wasn't so bad on her throat, in fact, it kind of felt lovely.
"So?" He rumbled against her collarbone, large hand running up the back of her calf to slide under her thigh on the counter. "What's wrong, pie bavarde?"
"I trust you," she whispered, snaking her arms around his neck now as he began to straighten up. "But for now, can you promise me that you won't…" she paused. "I don't want you to grow tired of me because I'm not ready for…sex yet."
Touching a long finger to his lips, Grace could tell the Cajun was trying to rein in the grin that was causing his eyes to sparkle, after a good, long moment of him controlling his laughter at her and her growing more indignant he removed his hand from his mouth and tilted his head in amusement.
"Gracie-girl," he began carefully, "I'm not one of Pavlov's dogs. I don't begin salivating for flesh the instant someone says the word 'breed'."
"My neck says otherwise, honey," she replied, wiping at it to get her point across.
"But that's the sweetest part of you," he drawled in a voice that sounded almost like he was pulling a Bela Lugosi on her, moving in to ravish her throat again.
She allowed him to slake his thirst for a moment, laughing as his stubble raked her delicate flesh and he clearly began nibbling at her throat like a vampire.
"Alright, you massive redwood," she said finally, pushing against him for freedom, using both her hands and her feet to move the solid soldier, "you're chaffing my neck with your beard."
Leaning his face close to hers, he smiled and kissed her mouth. "You don't feel forced by me, cher?"
"No."
"Then don't worry about sex," he stated. "I love every bit of you and just sleeping with you in my arms has proven to be pretty thrilling for me. Besides," he added, dragging himself away from her with the devil in his eyes, "I still have one good hand and plenty of privacy in the bell tower."
She tsked warningly at him. "Dirty man."
"I can't help it if you get me wound up," he returned with a chuckle. "Parading that perfect little Georgian peach rear end of yours around."
"Wolf," she growled.
"You know what you do to me every time you swing your hips in those jeans of yours, jolie catin," he remarked. "Don't act like you don't."
"Maybe a little," she admitted with a small grin.
"I knew it," he returned, moving back between her knees to kiss her again.
"You really do care for me, don't you?" She asked him as they pulled apart.
"Gracie," he mildly scolded, "I love you. And I'm perfectly happy the way we are, breeding like rabbits or not."
"I never said 'like rabbits'," she argued.
He beamed roguishly at her.
As she finally set about finishing with his bandages and began shaving him, she went on thoughtfully.
"It may help though, wouldn't it? I was thinking about when our generation is gone, Annie wouldn't have many people left for her," she said, swiping the razor under his chin carefully. "People to watch over her and to help her out like we have."
"Mais," he began as she rinsed the razor off, "for now let's put a pin in that. My concerns in the immediate future about Annie involve what exactly she's learning from 'Mr. Dixon' and how to get a weapon in her hand that she's comfortable with."
"You should think about the future, though," Grace insisted.
"Hm," he took a step back, holding on to her upper arms in order to keep her where she was, eyes drinking her in from head to toe.
She began to squirm under his gaze. "Wha—"
"Shh," he warned, still eyeing her contemplatively.
Grace tucked her hair behind her ear nervously, wetting her bottom lip. "Honey—"
"Shh, I'm thinking about the future." He urged, touching a finger to her lips.
Just as she was beginning to think about kicking him in the shin, he nodded.
"Okay," he said, "I've given it some serious thought. Marry me."
Grace blinked evenly at him, before slipping off the counter. "Goodnight, honey."
"I'm serious," he argued lightly, cutting off her exit.
"So am I, goodnight," she insisted. "Shave yourself, since you have the energy."
He dropped to one knee, wincing as it jarred his ribs and beamed up at her. "Marry me, magpie."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
He looked around, before nodding. "Why I wouldn't be?"
"Because you never are." She said. "Because you think with all this breeding talk that you need to lay claim and because I don't think you've honestly thought about the world we live in now."
He frowned up at her. "I'm not an animal marking my territory, Gracie-girl. Don't insult me by suggesting I am. I plan on being with you for a long time, but I know you and I know you'd prefer to make it official in the eyes of God and in all honesty it would do the people here a deal of good to have a celebration of love instead of another burial service. Now, don't try to find insult in any of that, I know you will because you want to find insult to avoid the question. I asked, all you have to do is say 'yes' or 'no'."
"I'm half tempted to say 'no' just to deflate that smug air of superiority you have wrapped yourself in," she stated, running her hands idly through his hair.
"I can't really see in the candlelight like this, are you angry or not at me?" He inquired.
Leaning down, she kissed his forehead, even with him on his knee and her standing, he was still a redwood of a man. "I won't do a gaudy ceremony, I'm far too old for a silly white gown and to be honest in this day and age it wouldn't be sensible. But I think a dance and a nice meal of sorts would be lovely."
"Is that a 'yes' then, or…?"
All she could think about was the Cajun's propensity for getting over excited and how exhausting the next morning would be for her, but dropping her gaze back to the ridiculous soldier on his knee, she pursed her lip to hide the smile at the thought of the nights she'd spend with him, feeling perhaps a little less nervous about the relationship if they were bound in the eyes of God, she nodded.
"Yes, honey, that was a 'yes'."
missdaryldixon - I can't really lie, I don't often pair canon characters with OC's, but...well...Mary Agnes does seem to have the patience Merle needs.
DarylDixon'sLover - Thanks!
itsi3 - Actually, due to your review, I had this chapter written for you. I wasn't going to, but I'm kind of glad I did. So thanks! ^_^
GG - I really hope people don't mind if I slip in a Milton chapter next. I kind of want him to really gush over his severed treasure.
shelly2 - Merle/Andrea huh?
Surplus Imagination - I think if the show gave Merle more of a chance he'd slowly come around like Daryl did. Not saying that I felt pity for him, he was a bit much, but he had potential.
Brazen Hussy - I'm hoping for more Merle in this story, also more Rick as some point. But yes, more Merle is lovely, he breaks up the sweet.
Claire Randall Fraser - I'm glad you enjoyed that line. It was kind of bluntly true. But yes, especially Merle, he doesn't realize how close he comes to a lot of things, only to 'Merle' it up.
HGRHfan35 - Merle and tenderness do not belong together often, but I think he really needs to learn some to bag him a nun.
Arisprite - Well, thanks a lot for your review! You pretty much summed up how I felt about Merle too. He had such potential, after all Daryl wasn't exactly loveable to begin with, it took a little love and compassion to turn him into a team player. Also, don't feel bad about going on too long with reviews like yours, they're the reason I keep writing, so really, thanks. ^_^
luthielearfalas - I honestly wasn't going to write this chapter, but reviews like yours and itsi3's had me thinking that I should and...well as said above, I'm glad I did.
newsqueen123 - That Dixon charm, I tell you, they could bottle and sell it. ^_^