Get used to all these updates, kids, because I'm off again in a few days for a few weeks. So...allow me to spoil you while I can.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Anaisa Pye
**Carol**
"Delgado doesn't honestly think it was us," the Lieutenant argued. "If he did, he would have sent in a strike team, not one deaf soldier boy, not his best shot."
"So why'd he send him at all, then?" Grace asked, wrapping one of Lafayette's button ups around her protectively. "And who would be so silly as to step into their territory like that?"
Carol watched the others exchange looks, before Rick spoke.
"Maybe he just wants to be sure it's not one of ours, a friendly fire incident or something."
"What's going to happen to the man they caught?" Grace demanded.
Everyone avoid her eyes.
"They're going to kill him, aren't they?" The former nun asked after a moment, looking to the Lieutenant.
Her soldier, quirked a brow, but artfully changed the subject, ignoring Grace in favour of saving them all time and trouble.
"How'd he settle in?" He asked Carol.
She shifted uncomfortably, catching a glimpse of Grace's face and knowing full well the Lieutenant was in for a hell of a time when the group broke up.
"He's already fast asleep," she said. The poor boy pulled at her heartstrings, he looked like he was just a baby still and the dark shadows under his eyes haunted her, the way his brows seemed constantly worried. Her mother instincts had kicked in when she first caught sight of him, she wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be alright, he awakened that urge in her. "I don't think he's slept in days, weeks maybe."
"Why would this friend of yours," Grace began snappishly, addressing the Cajun with an arch look, "send a boy out into the world with little sleep and unable to hear anything creeping up on him?"
The Lieutenant chuckled. "He's a Marine, girl," he said. "That boy is better trained than most, he did just fine, made it here in one piece, didn't he? Delgado's job as the leader of their group isn't to coddle him, but to utilize him to the best of his abilities. He sent Kowalski, because short of coming here himself, he knew the soldier would find us in due time."
"Good Lord, Lieutenant," Grace gasped, touching a hand to the base of her throat. "That boy isn't a weapon or a tool, he's a living human being."
"He's a soldier, my girl," the Lieutenant argued.
Merle stepped in, not trying to break up the fight, but thankfully doing so.
"So, who do you want heading out with him?" He addressed Rick.
"Who do you want?" Rick returned.
"I want to go," Carol offered. She wouldn't feel right until she was sure that boy got home safely.
"I'll go," Daryl argued.
"You're still recuperating," Rick stated. "Let Carol go. Lieutenant? I think you should lead them, since Delgado knows you."
"He's still recuperating," Grace pointed out.
Rick angled his head. "That's too bad, we need him to deal with Delgado."
"Then I'm going too," Grace stated.
"No, she needs to stay here with Annie," the Lieutenant said swiftly. "I'll take Michonne and Glenn with me."
The look the nun gave him froze everyone except the Cajun, who had yet to notice he was suddenly in the crosshairs of a very pissed off looking woman.
Carol exchanged a look with Daryl, who winced sympathetically for his friend, but remained, wisely, out of the entire exchange.
Rick cleared his throat and forced the rest of them to continue with their discussion, even though his face looked like he was extremely worried for the soldier. "Okay, four people, with their man, good enough. You can head out in the morning."
"I'd wait until the afternoon," the Lieutenant said. "That cattle trail is going to get mucky in this rain, may as well wait for it to dry before trying to drive down it."
"Good enough, until then keep an eye on him, but make him feel welcome." Rick said. "I guess if we're trying to make friends, we should treat him like a guest and not like a criminal. Carol? Would you take him some dry clothes, see if he wants anything else?"
She nodded. Rick knew full well she had plans to do so anyways, she could tell by the way he said it so off-handedly, like he was almost inquiring if she was, instead of ordering her to do it.
On her way past the Lieutenant, she gave his upper arm a quick rub, knowing he was in for a hell of a time and wanting to give him some support.
He was already locked in a silent staring contest with Grace, who looked like she was about to raise hell.
Hearing footsteps close behind her as she made her way through the rain for the dorms, hoping to dig through their spare clothes for something for the young soldier, Carol knew Daryl was trailing behind her and slowed for him to catch up.
"That poor boy is so young," she remarked to him. "Makes me want to hug him."
Daryl scoffed. "He's a soldier, so he's at least eighteen, nineteen probably given the amount of time for training and the amount of time we've been here."
"He's still just a boy," she returned.
"Yeah, well, don't try to hug him, he'd probably stab you or something. Looks feral to me."
Carol couldn't help but smile widely at him. "Have you looked in a mirror lately, kettle?" She pushed open the door into the dorms and led the way towards the bathroom where they kept the box of odds and end clothes. "It must be hard," she went on, "for him. Being deaf and not knowing sign language. He'd have no way to communicate with anyone."
"If he wanted to communicate he'd find a way," Daryl argued.
Pulling out a shirt, she turned to hold it up against Daryl for a rough measurement, nearly tripping over Clyde. The dog was a near permanent fixture at Daryl's side and she often forgot he was there even though he took up as much room as he did.
"This should fit him."
"Yeah, it's real nice." Daryl grumbled, eyeing the Hawaiian print shirt.
"It's something dry at least. Maybe I should give him a sweater though, he's probably chilled from the rain." She went back to digging through the box, while Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and pocketed his hand.
"Hey?" He asked quietly after a moment. "You want to get hitched?"
She paused in digging, slowly hanging a sweater over the edge of the box. "Are you asking or are you asking?"
"I mean, is it something important to you?"
"These days? Not high on my list of priorities," she replied, turning to look him in the eye. He was artfully avoiding hers by allowing his shaggy hair to fall over his eyes.
Reaching out she took his hand, removing it from his pocket and pulling him to her.
"I'm not going anywhere," she clarified. "If you think you need to lay claim."
He scoffed. "It's not that. I just thought…don't women like that sort of thing?"
She laughed and brushed his hair back. It felt like his hair grew faster than anyone's she had ever known, she had just cut it a month ago. "Some of us."
"So?"
"I tell you what," she said. "If you want people to know I'm taken, you get me a ring and I'll wear it, but I don't need the ceremony to tell me I'm yours or you're mine."
"A ring, huh?" He demanded. "That all?"
"That's all."
To her surprise he beamed widely at her, leaning in and pressing a hard kiss to her cheek, engulfing her in his arms. She laughed at the unexpected surge of energy from him and returned the kiss to his cheek.
Suddenly feeling herself being lifted, she protested wildly. "Daryl, your wound!"
"Don't care," he murmured against her neck, his scruff scratching her lightly there.
Held up above him slightly, she ran her hand through his hair idly. "You know," she began quietly, "I should start calling you something more endearing."
He pulled back enough to look up at her, blue eyes dark. "Like what?"
"I don't know. I sometimes hear the Lieutenant calling Annie 'boo' and—"
"No, that's not going to stick."
Carol laughed. "Well, it's either that or stud muffin."
Daryl squinted up at her, before sliding her back down to the floor. "You know what, forget about the rings…" he muttered darkly, teasing her.
She laughed and pulled a fake pout.
"Pick out some damned clothes," he continued gruffly.
As she turned back to do so, his hand landed on her shoulder and she reached up to grab it, smiling as he leaned down and kissed her hair.
..-~-..
..-~-..
**Grace**
"You're mad," the Lieutenant pointed out as she stormed off, heading for the dorms.
They had a long stare down on the church steps that lasted long enough for everyone to depart the immediate area, before Grace decided it wasn't worth degrading herself further by fighting with him and turned to march off and check on Annie who was being watched by Herschel and Beth.
"Hey, girl, what's wrong?" He went on, trying to get her to stop or at least slow down long enough for them to talk.
She spun on him in the rain. "Nothing."
He blinked and stepped back, shifting on his feet. "Okay, I know women enough to know that means 'something'."
Grace spun on her heel and continued on. She didn't care much for the way he treated her like a child in front of people. There had been a time when she was very much in charge of her own damned convent and suddenly she wasn't important enough to receive answers to inquiries or to go meet with groups they were allying with. It was just, embarrassing to be treated like that.
"You mad because you're not coming with me?" He asked.
She turned on him with hellfire in her eyes and he immediately clamped his mouth shut.
"Not that, huh?" He whispered. "Okay…"
Taking a step forward, she poked him hard in the chest with her finger. "If you had any common sense, Lafayette Vancoughnett, you'd back the hell up and give me some damned space!"
Nearby Milton, who had been hanging around the protection of the dormitory overhang with Karen, looked wildly around, trying hard to appear disconnected from the scene before them.
Karen beat ass one way and Milton the other, clearing out of range for them. A few seconds later, Milton limped back, crossing their path to head in the direction Karen had gone, eyes downcast, face grim.
Poking his chest again, harder, Grace snarled. "I can't believe how you treat me! In front of everyone! Like I was some damned child!"
The Cajun took a step back, still remaining quiet.
"Do you think that by ignoring my questions, by all but patting my head and sending me off to bed, you can just get away with treating me like some kind of simple minded," she broke off with a growl. "I'm not important enough to go with you, I don't need to know what's going to happen with the man this so-called 'friend' of yours has. A captured human being?"
"That man they captured will be executed, because the Geneva Convention doesn't exist anymore and it's the safest thing to do," the Lieutenant said. "Does that make you feel better?"
"Of course not!" She snarled. "But dammit, was that so hard to tell me?! I used to have some say in things, I used to have your respect—"
"Magpie—"
She poked him hard again. "Don't you dare 'magpie' me after treating me like that, you gigantic Cajun redwood! Don't you dare try to sweet talk me after making me feel two inches tall! How dare you? Where do you get off thinking you can just ignore my questions, shove me aside like I'm not even worth the explanation!"
Folding his arms, the Cajun tilted back on one leg, letting her get it all out, but protecting his chest from her assaulting finger.
"Are you done?" He asked after a moment in a tone she was sure he only used on recruits in basic.
She swallowed thickly. "For now."
"Good, because now it's my turn, and, girl, you'd better listen."
"Girl?" She snapped.
He made a zip it motion with his hand, using his towering height to lean forward and intimidate her into silence, she resented this, but said nothing.
"One, that poking actually hurt, goddamn your bony little finger, and two, when we council up like that, you're not my woman, you're just like any of the others, I treat you the same as I'd treat them and three," his hard expression softened. "you're not coming with me because bride's aren't supposed to hold guns before their wedding."
She crossed her arms doubtfully and fought not to roll her eyes. Of course she was just like another soldier, commanding officer's really worried about honouring their grunts marriage traditions. "Oh really?"
"Yeah, it's a funny little Cajun tradition," he went on, blue-grey eyes dancing around, avoiding hers.
"Of course it is."
He offered her a tiny grin. "But, ah, when I get back…the tradition goes that you have to still love me and give me a big kiss and tell me you missed me."
Grace tilted her chin. "So, I have to lie a little bit?"
"You're a very mean little viper, aren't you?" He rubbed idly at his chest. "Jesus, you poked me hard, woman. Think it's only fair I give you a few pokes in return."
Despite lingering rage at him, the look on his face when he realized what he said, brought a small smile to her lips, so she bit down on her bottom one to keep from grinning. "I bet you'd like that, Cajun boy."
"I'm not saying I wouldn't," he returned, looking her up and down like a predator, before leaning in. "By the way, beb, I don't know what sort of incentive you were planning for me when you told me to close my eyes before the interruption, but the rain made your tank a little…" he leaned in and whispered, "you're not wearing a bra, my girl."
Grace flushed and wrapped the button up she wore over her tank around herself. When they were interrupted she had thrown on the first things she could grab and the button up just happened to have been the one she had just helped the Cajun out of prior to the whole ordeal. Bravely, she managed to say, "I know."
With the smile on his face falling, the Lieutenant took a step back and eyed her.
"Better get back to bed, hm?" She suggested.
Opening the door into the dorms for her, the Cajun blocked the way with his arm, stooping over to peer at her quietly.
When Grace finally managed to drag her eyes up to meet his, she found a fire smouldering behind his eyes that darkened them to the colour of an overcast sky.
The corners of his mouth quirked up just a little and he nodded. "Alright, girl. You're the boss," before she could say 'don't you forget it', the crafty Cajun added, "for now."
"Get to bed, honey."
..-~-..
The Voodoo Dialect
Anaisa Pye - Anaisa Pye (alternatively, Anaisa Pie, Anaisa Pie Danto, or Anaisa La Chiquita) is considered the patron saint of love, money, and general happiness. She is often considered extremely flirtatious, generous, and playful by her devotees. She is also very jealous of the worship of other female loas, as she considers herself able to provide for anything a person could request. In Roman Catholicism, she is syncretized with Saint Anne and her altars are often decorated with pictures and statues of Saint Anne and the child Mary. She is said to work very well with Belie Belcan, another popular loa who is associated with Saint Michael the Archangel. Therefore, one will always find icons of Saint Anne next to icons of Saint Michael in Voodoo households and temples.
..-~-..
missdaryldixon - You'll get more Cash in a few more chapters, he sort of comes into play more.
vickih - I worked with severely disabled youth as well and a lot of them have problems expressing themselves, which sort of threw them into rages and gave them a sort of sullen outlook on people outside their circle of support.
GG - Hopefully more on Kowalski in the next few chapters.
Merle's Right Hand - Yes, the chapter after this is another from Kol's pov (I like that abbreviated term for him). So I hope you have that to look forward to.
itsi3 - I really appreciate when reviewers let me know how much they enjoy a character, it does have quite a bit of influence in the futures I may choose for them, so it's good to know who's loved. I try hard not to make things too sad for the reader (though in a post-ZA world that is hard).