Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.
a/n: Initially I wasn't going to write, or even well attempt any more smut so soon in this story. This chapter originally was meant to be a little more lighthearted, with a bit of fluff between Merle and Carol, but it seemed that a certain damned muse decided otherwise- no matter how many times I attempted to write and pull this chapter back to the fluff. In the end-I just gave up. I have found that I tend to write smut a little too tender, no matter how much I try to angst, or rough it up. I guess I need more practice (haha any advice?) Anyway, this 'original' scene has been kicking around in my head for a while, I hope you enjoy.
I am writing this fic close to the main story line, the main gist of the plot being the same, but this is AU, and it would be considering that both Merle and Andrea are both alive at this point. I will be following the main storyline loosely, but it will at times veer off into AU. As for the timelines in the series, I have, (or hope) that I have poetic license as a fic writer to alter the timelines between certain scenes.
And as always, I would like to thank everyone still here with me in this little fic.
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"His name is Nick."
Carol frowned a little at the earnest almost pleading look the small blonde haired girl gave her. "And he's your friend?" she inquired. She wracked her memory, but she couldn't recall anyone named Nick from the former Woodbury residents.
"Yes. he's my friend," Lizzie Samuels looked up at her and smiled, ignoring the dig in the ribs her younger sister gave.
"You're weird," Mika said suddenly.
Carol glanced about the library, her eyes drifting from the two small girls stood just in front her, to the stacks of books arranged haphazardly on the dusty bookshelves. She leveled her gaze back towards them, and smiled. "Well if he's your friend Lizzie-he would be more than welcome to join us for Story Time."
Mika looked at her as if she wanted to say something, but a quick glance at her sister made her fall silent. Instead she tugged at the hem of her cardigan, scuffling her feet.
"Now I need you two girls to take your place with the others." Carol smiled at them, hoping to put them at ease. "I have something to show you all, but it has to remain our secret, and you are not tell any of the other adults. And I mean your parents too."
"I like secrets!"
Carol glanced down at the small curly haired boy, sat cross legged on the floor. "I need you all to pay extra special attention, especially you, Luke."
The tousled headed boy leaned towards her on his place on the ground. His head nodded quickly, "What are you going to show us, Miss Carol?"
She placed the book she had been reading on to the table, letting her fingers rest briefly on the hard backed cover as she chose her words carefully. The children were sat in a rough semi-circle at her feet, Lizzie and Mika now sat amongst them.
"There are bad things out there-monsters, and you need to be able to look after yourselves. There's going to be times that you will find yourselves alone-without an adult to look out for you. You have to be prepared."
Their eyes were fixed widely on her, watching as she moved and laid her hand on a large wooden box at her feet.
"Those things out there? The walkers? They will kill you without hesitation," Carol said, watching the way their eyes widened in fear.
She turned her head, almost jumping in her seat as the library door pushed open and she paused, her hand still resting against the lid of the wooden box. She stiffened and then relaxed slightly as she saw Merle walk into the room. He gave her an odd look, and she tried to ignore him as he pulled up a chair at the back of the room, watching her curiously. The children looked at him, before turning their heads back to her.
"Why would they kill us?" Lizzie asked suddenly, and Carol's attention was once more focused upon them.
"Because they are bad, and it is all that they know."
Lizzie frowned. "They were people once. They are people now."
"Be quiet Lizzie," Mika shook her head, glaring at her sister. "Miss Carol? Are they bad? Because Lizzie says-"
"Shut up Mika!" her sister hissed.
"Bad? Ya don't know nothin', 'em things out there are gonna try an' chomp on ya first goddamned chance they get. They ain't people no more. Wise up kids. Y'all wanna listen to yer 'Miss Carol'," Merle answered curtly.
"Why, thank you Mr. Dixon," Carol said, looking at him. She turned her attention back to the children. "Now, who knows what is in this?" she gestured to the box at her feet.
Luke held his arm up in the air. "I know!" he answered eagerly. "Lego!"
She bit back a smile. "No, sorry Luke. No Lego." She opened the box slowly, saw the keen rapt expression on Lizzie's face.
"Cool," Lizzie said. The girl looked at her, a small smile on her face. Her eyes burned fiercely, "Knives. What are we going to do with these?"
Carol heard the sudden scrape of a chair and she looked up quickly, watching as Merle leaned back on his chair, resting his legs on top of the table to the front of him. She narrowed her eyes as he looked back at her innocently. She knew that she had to say something to him; the childrens curious gazes were fixed on him, and the last thing she needed was a Dixon led mutiny on her hands.
"Feet off the table, Mr. Dixon, please."
"Huh? Whatcha gonna do, woman?" Merle grinned, "Stick my ass in detention?"
She pursed her lips and nodded, trying not to smile at the look of indignation flash across his face.
He dragged his feet off the table, sitting in his chair and placing his arms over his chest. He raised his eyebrows comically, "Yer shittin' me, right?"
Carol ignored the gasps and giggles emanating from the row of small children, glancing across to where the larger bespectacled boy, Patrick sat leaning against a book shelf regarding them impassively. She turned her gaze back to Merle, fixing him with what she hoped was a stern expression. "Okay. You get to stay behind after class, Mr. Dixon."
"What the fu-"
"I think that's enough," she interrupted him quickly. "The children certainly don't need to hear anymore of your colorful expressions." Carol bit back a smile as he smirked at her suddenly, and she turned back to the children. "We use these to defend ourselves against the walkers. Now I need a volunteer." Carol was unsurprised to see Lizzie push her hand into the air. "Okay, Lizzie, step forward please."
Carol reached into the box, carefully appraising the girl before selecting a small knife. She handed it to Lizzie, hilt first, seeing the small smile painted on the girls face. "Now, show me how you would hold it."
Lizzie grasped the knife, the blade pointing outwards.
Carol shook her head. "No, that's wrong."
Lizzie frowned at her, as Carol leaned forward and slipped the knife from her own belt. The childrens eyes were all on her, and she grasped the knife, the blade pointing to her inner forearm. "See? You point the blade this like this. This way, you have more strength behind the blade as you bring it down," She brought the knife down, showing them. "If you do what Lizzie did, your thrust wouldn't have so much impact and also, you could so very easily lose your knife if it got stuck."
"Aren't we too little to learn this?" Mika asked, her mouth gaping open a little in surprise.
"No." Carol shook her head. "You need to be able to protect yourselves, at all times." She looked at the children, seeing some of them shifting restlessly on their spots on the floor. She smiled as she got to her feet, taking the knife off Lizzie and putting it back into the chest. "Okay, I think that is enough for today. Tomorrow you will all show me that you can hold the knife correctly."
She glanced up at the heavy tread of boots, watching as Merle came along and stood near to the door, leaning one shoulder to the wall.
"C'mon kids, ya heard her. Scram." He licked at his lips as he stared at her. "I got me a detention."
Carol rolled her eyes at him, watching as the children rushed out of the room. "No running," she called out to them. "Walk in pairs and hold hands, please."
"Miss Carol?" She looked down as she felt Luke tugging at her pants. "I wanted Lego."
She knelt down to him, and placed her hands on his shoulders, smiling softly as he stared up at her with big brown eyes. "Oh, I'm sure there has to be some somewhere, sweetheart."
Patrick stepped forward hesitantly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one finger. "If I may?" he asked.
Carol nodded, watching him. The boy was a little bit too old to be in amongst the group of smaller children, although she had seen him try to interact with Carl, who'd ignored his every attempt. She felt sorry for Patrick. The boy seemed uncertain and awkward, and she wondered if he felt better at ease with the youngsters because he could relate to them, on their level. There certainly didn't seem to be anything malicious about him.
He stooped down to Luke, taking his hand in his own. "Young sir," he smiled awkwardly at the young boy. "I might know where you can find some Lego, if you'll allow me to show you."
"Okay," Luke answered with a smile.
Carol watched as they left the library, the door closing softly behind them, and she leaned against a bookshelf, watching as Merle paced towards her. "Do you have something to say?" she asked, raising a wary eyebrow at him.
He grinned as he slipped his stump around her waist, pulling her to him. "What's my punishment?"
"No," she laughed. "I meant, showing the children the knives."
Merle shrugged. "I dunno... You think yer doin' the right thing, showing 'em?"
She reached out a hand and gripped his arm, running her fingers slowly up and down. "Yes. Someone has to show them...someone needs to show them. They need to know how to defend themselves."
He grunted softly as he looked at her, his eyes narrowed. "I know what this is about."
Carol leaned into him, resting her head under his chin. She felt his arm slip around her more firmly, his hand coming up and touching at her hair. "And that is?" she asked softly.
"Is about yer kid."
She sighed against his chest, but didn't answer straight away. "I...I don't want to lose anymore children. I can't. Not a single day goes by that I wish to God things had been different. But they're not. I can't change what happened, but maybe...maybe I can make a difference here, now."
"Daryl told me what happened to Sophia," he stared at her as she glanced up at him questioningly. "I asked him, an' he told me a while back. It weren't yer fault. Ya couldn't have known what would've happened."
She felt tears prickle behind her eyelids and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear them. "I don't know what I would have done without Daryl. I wanted to give up, hell I wanted to die."
His fingers trailed through her hair, then his hand flattened to cup the back of her head, his thumb softly stroking. "I know," he said quietly.
"These kids-they need a chance. I know what I'm doing."
"As long as yer sure."
Carol moved against him, looking up at him again. She frowned, "I don't want anyone else to know about this, Merle. I don't want Rick to know."
Merle huffed at that. "I ain't 'bout gonna go an' tell him, darlin'," he reassured. "Ain't nobody's business what happens here."
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth, and she slipped her arms around his waist, pulling him to her. He kissed her slowly, and she let out a soft little moan against his mouth as his hand slipped underneath her shirt, the callouses on his fingers rubbing and tingling her skin as his hand inched up her spine to her shoulders.
She stiffened in his arms when she felt her bra ping open and she placed her hand to his chest and pushed at him, frowning as he smirked back at her.
Carol glanced around the room quickly, before turning back to him. "What has gotten into you, Merle?"
"Ain't nothin'," he chuckled as he leaned closer, his lips almost touching her ear. "Play yer cards right and you'll get summat gotten into you," he leered.
Carol raised her eyebrows and tried to edge away from him, "How romantic."
Merle smirked again, "Oh yeah, you better believe it, sweetheart. I'ma regular hearts an' flowers kinda guy."
"I find that highly doubtful," Carol sighed.
"Huh? Ya ain't believing it?" He pulled her firmly to him, rubbing his groin at her hips. "C'mon mouse, you know you want some more of that good ole Merle lovin'."
She raised her eyebrows at him, "God Merle, you're a real charmer."
He pressed his face to her neck, kissing then gently biting at her skin, before whispering so close that a shiver ran down her spine and her skin prickled with goosebumps, "Ain't that the truth."
She bit at her lip as he kissed her, his lips trailing up to her jaw, and she glanced around the library, seeing that it was mercifully empty. "Merle," she warned, the breath now hitching in her throat as his hand wormed its way up the front of her shirt. She stepped from him, slapping at his hand. "Not here."
"You ain't saying no," he grinned as he moved with her, edging closer. "C'mon. Ain't nobody here darlin'-we got the place to ourselves."
"For now," she grimaced, frowning as his hand reached back under her shirt. "We shouldn't. What if someone came in? I don't think it's a good idea-"
"Why?" he growled.
She gasped as his hand cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing across her nipple. "I...I just don't think it's a good idea. If anyone saw us together-"
"Fuck, woman," he hissed. "They see us together most of the goddamn time."
His stump wrapped more firmly around her waist, pressing her to him, and he lowered his head to her throat, nipping at her skin again. Without thinking, her arms wrapped about his neck, and she closed her eyes to the sensation of the rough scruff of his chin scratching against her skin. His mouth moved across to her jaw, and he caught her lips with his, his tongue forcing its way in as he kissed her. Her fingers trailed through his hair, and she idly wondered at the fact that his hair was growing enough now that she could feel the short soft curls on his head.
She broke away from him, and tried to stop herself from laughing at the petulant irritated look he gave her. "They don't normally see us this way together, Merle," she breathed quickly.
"I don't give a fuck what they see, or what they don't see," he said narrowly, as he stared unblinkingly back at her.
Carol swallowed thickly at the look he gave her. She had never in her life had anyone look at her the way that Merle was doing right now. His eyes were hooded; the smoky blues of his gaze now darkened thick with desire, and he looked like for all intent and purpose that he was going to devour her like a hungry rabid wolf. It frightened and thrilled her all at the same time.
"Lock the door?" she suggested weakly, cursing herself as Merle gave her a sudden triumphant grin. He let go of her and stalked across the room to the door, and she honestly didn't think that she had ever seen him move so quick in her life. She shook her head, rolling her eyes as he took the key out of the lock, holding it up to her for her to see, before palming it quickly into the depths of his pocket. He grinned again, wolfishly, and she tried desperately to ignore the clamorous pounding of her heart, the soft little insistent voice at the back of her mind that questioned if she knew exactly what the hell she was doing.
She wiped her hands on her thighs. She knew damn well what she was doing, and she didn't need no little prick of conscience telling her of the doubts she'd had before. She bit her lip as she tried to ignore the little voice as it questioned; yes...but what now? What does this mean? Carol shut that irritating little voice up, pushing it to the back of her mind. Merle was here and that proved enough for her. He hadn't run away. He hadn't used her. His actions throughout the day had proved otherwise. He wasn't acting any different with her-except perhaps he was acting a little more horny than usual. She tried to stifle the smile at that thought.
"What are ya smiling at?" Merle growled as he paced across to her. He raised his eyebrows at her in question.
She moved away from the row of bookshelves, leaning instead at the edge of the table, her eyes roaming around the room. Blinds half covered the barred windows, and she noticed that time had gotten away so quick-that it must at least be late afternoon, the sun was lower in the sky now, spilling soft shadows into the room.
She pursed her lips as he came up to her, his hand catching at and resting at her hip. "Nothing really," she answered. "Are you sure about this, Merle?"
"Yeah I'm fuckin' sure. Hell Carol-you talk too much, darlin'," he smirked. "An' I ain't wanting to talk 'bout no more shit."
Her breath caught in her throat at his look, at the way he pulled her close to him. He let go of her waist and caught her hand in his, his fingers holding hers firmly. He leaned into her, his lips searching then pressing against hers hard, moving and pushing her lips forcibly open with his tongue. She kissed him back, her heart beating frantically in her chest, and he thrust his tongue in as he pressed her hand to the front of his pants. She felt the hardness of him pressing tightly against the fabric, and she smoothed her hand against his erection as he let go of her hand.
Before she knew it, he was popping open the button of her pants as his mouth moved from hers to kiss at her jaw, his tongue hot and wet and urgent on her skin. His hand dipped under her clothing and moved against her, and he growled throatily against her skin as he felt her wetness on his fingers.
He moved away from her and she looked at him in embarrassment and confusion, watching as he shucked his shirt off, smirking at her a little as he discarded the garment.
"Merle?"
He pressed himself to her, "Shush it woman. We ain't got no time for talking. Ain't got no time for fuckin' niceties."
He leaned closer, his hand irritably pushing at the fabric of her pants, pulling it past her hips. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her and she felt her heart tug at the look he shot her. He scooped her up in his arms, sitting her on the tabletop, then he tugged her boots off, dropping them to the floor, then he pulled her pants and briefs down quickly, pulling them off her legs, before fumbling at the buckle of his belt. She leaned into him, pressing her hand to his shoulder, her fingers catching at the strap of his grimed white wife-beater, watching as he glanced up at her. She kissed him, then placed her hand over his, before moving to undo his belt, popping the button of his pants and sliding his zipper down.
Merle stared at her intently for a moment, his eyes almost black as he watched her, then he pushed his pants down, sliding his hand into his briefs as he freed himself.
She bit at her lip as she watched him, and then he was pressing himself to her, and she rest her head on his shoulder as he slowly pushed his erection into her, biting back the gasp as he pushed firmly into her. His hard unrelenting length filled her...stretched and stung at her, and she stifled another gasp as she shifted her hips to accommodate him further. He paused for a moment before withdrawing, then shoved into her more firmly, filling her completely. His mouth found hers as he thrust into her, his hand gripping her thigh and his arm resting on her waist.
She was all to aware that they could be caught at any moment-even with the door locked, but she found that right at this very moment, she didn't really care. She wanted this...she damned well ached for him.
He stopped for a moment, the breath wheezing in his chest, and he looked at her as he hoisted her legs around his waist, pulling her tighter to him. She lay back against the hard solid wood of the table as he thrust into her, his hand grasping at her thigh, and she bit her lip as she felt the first tremblings stir headily within her. Her breath ached in her chest, her heart pounding so much that she thought it was going to burst out of her chest. He pushed at her, his movements slick and thick and hurried, pounding and slamming forcibly into her, his low harsh grunts punctuating the silence in the room, the only other sound her soft little gasps and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. He was buried so damned deep inside her that she felt his balls smack into her with every single thrust.
She felt him shudder against her as she felt herself clasp and grasp tightly and raggedly against his dick. He slammed so deeply into her that she knew that she would feel it the next day. She sighed, covering her mouth with her arm, stifling the low keening sob that broke from her throat, her body trembling as they peaked and climaxed almost at the same time, their breathing heavy and stuttering in the thick heavy silence of the room as they felt their own release soar.
She leaned on her elbows as she sat up, with him buried deep inside her, and she tightened her hands around his arms, pulling him to her. Her breath caught in her throat as they stared at each other.
"Christ almighty, mouse," Merle panted breathlessly.
She smiled delicately at him, and he brushed his hand across her cheek, before leaning and pressing his forehead to hers.
She was mildly aware of how they where, with her pressed to the edge of the table, her clothing discarded on the floor, with him still inside her, his thighs tight against hers, his pants and underwear pooled around his ankles, and she had to bite back the laugh. Carol wondered then, if she could ever think of this table in any other light than their coupling upon it. This was the table that the council accorded meetings around.
Merle kissed her, his lips brushing across her forehead, his nose bumping on hers as he sought out her mouth. His tongue flickered at her lips and she opened her mouth to him, kissing him back as she curled her arms around his shoulders. He rested against her, his breath hot against her skin, and as she felt his dick go limp and slip from inside her, she found that she missed the contact of this very intimate act with him. She breathed against his skin, kissing him lightly as she pushed him away and slipped off the table top.
Merle stood before her, completely unashamed and buck assed naked with his pants around his ankles. He reached out with his hand stopping her, and she looked at him questioningly. He grabbed his discarded shirt and paused, looking at her almost anxiously, before leaning down and wiping at her delicately with his shirt. He cleaned himself off, then balled his shirt up, throwing it onto the table top as he pulled up his clothing-adjusting and tucking himself back into his pants.
"Mouse," he warned slowly.
Whatever he was going to say... she didn't want to hear it, so she shut him up with a soft kiss, leaning to him and pulling his zipper up and fastening the button on his cargo pants.
She dragged her own clothing back on, looking at him curiously. "Why do you call me that?" she asked as she fastened the button on her own pants.
"What? Mouse?"
"Yes." She suddenly wanted to know why he would still call her that. It had always seemed such a derogatory term.
He huffed at her as he buckled his belt, before glancing at her.
"Tell me," she insisted.
Merle sighed, before wrapping his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. She could feel his frantic heartbeat as she burrowed into his embrace, her fingers smoothing across the fabric of his wife-beater. His voice vibrated softly against her cheek, and she closed her eyes as he held her. "I don't know. Fuck. You were a timid little thing when I first knew ya."
"I'm not that person any more, Merle," she warned.
"Yeah, I know that. You ain't the same person I knew back then."
"And neither are you," she answered.
Merle chuckled at that. He leant his cheek to hers, kissing her. "Ain't none of us the same any more, darlin'. But shit? Ya wanna know why I call ya that? It's because-" he paused, and she wondered if he would answer, even though she really wanted to know.
"Why?" She asked, her breath cooling inside her.
He fidgeted against her, and she knew that he felt uncomfortable with her question, and she felt a pang at the fact that he was trying to make an effort- to say what he felt, even though it was so hard for him to do. "You were...but you ain't that little mouse of a woman I knew at the quarry. You've changed. But I still remember you, Carol... an' shit...hell-I don't know. I don't mean anythin' bad by it."
Carol sighed against his chest. "I know you don't."
His lips touched at her ear, his breath warm. "You ain't belonging to none," he said softly, his voice thick and rasping. "It's jus'...ah fuck it-" he sighed irritably as he pressed his cheek to her temple. "Yer my fuckin' mouse."
She looked up at him and touched him softly with her hand, cupping his cheek with her palm, turning his head to face hers. She kissed him softly. And at that moment, when he stared back at her with those smoky blue eyes that she had grown to know so well, the fine lines at his eyes crinkling with affection and humor, Carol knew that it wouldn't be so hard for her to love him.
"It ain't meaning I'ma goddamned pussy," he growled uncomfortably. "'Cause I fuckin' ain't."
"Nobody said you were," Carol smiled at him. She sensed before she heard the sounds of footsteps shuffling close to the door, and she looked quickly up at him. "Merle," she hissed. "There's someone out there."
Merle stood looking at her before realization crossed his face, and he darted across the room to the door, waiting for a moment, before pulling the key out of his pocket and carefully unlocking it, his breath hissing tightly in his throat in irritation.
The door pushed open with a soft little snicker and Hershel hobbled in on his crutches, and from his demeanour, Carol saw...or rather she hoped, that he hadn't noticed anything amiss with the locked door and the two of them in the room together. He coughed, raising his fist to his mouth, a wry smile poking through his wispy white beard, and Carol felt herself almost shrivel in despair. Seemed nothing much got past the former vet.
"Are you alright, Hershel?" she asked suddenly, seeing a twinge of pain race across his face. She rushed over to him, only for him to pause on his crutches, waving her hand away from him.
"I'm fine, it's just this damned leg," he grumbled. "Finding the new one rubs against the stump after a few hours." He brought his one crutch to his chest, limping and swiveling himself around, before sitting heavily into a chair. He rested the crutches against the table and smiled at her.
"Ya ain't gotta tell me, I know," Merle replied looking at the older man with concern. "Reckon it took me a while to get used to my prosthetic." He glanced across to Carol, before turning his attention back to the old vet. "What was ya wantin'?"
"Well, I wondered if you'd help me look for a book, Merle. I'm sure I saw it in here the other day, but I'm damned if I can remember where." Hershel laughed, "Old age is creeping on me," he apologized.
Merle looked at him and raised his eyebrows, "Sure. You don't have to make any excuses. What was ye lookin' for?"
"The Herbal Medicine-Maker's Handbook." Hershel replied. "I know it sounds vague and an odd choice for a prison library, but I know it's here. I should have taken it before when I saw it."
Merle glanced at the row of bookshelves, and Carol paced over to him, pressing her hand lightly to his arm as he turned to face her. "I'll see you later?" she asked, trying to appear nonchalant in front of Hershel. God only knew that she didn't want anyone else to know about what was going on between her and Merle, and she fervently hoped that Hershel was none the wiser.
He fixed her with such a look that she felt her heart pound in her chest. Merle nodded slowly as he smiled at her, "Yeah, you bet ya will." His gaze narrowed, and he inclined his head to the table, and Carol felt the blush heat her cheeks as she realized what he was indicating.
She let go of his arm reluctantly, and stepped across to the table, grabbing at his balled up shirt and clasping it tightly to her chest. "Okay Merle," she said casually. "I will see you later. Hershel," she smiled and nodded her head in his direction.
Carol left them alone, listening briefly as Merle and Hershel discussed books, and she allowed herself a small happy smile as she shut the door behind her, and then she headed off towards the direction of the laundry room, Merle's shirt gripped firmly in her hands.
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