Of all the cards Lerner had to play after she confronted Carol, this one was the one Shane expected the least. When she asked him to accompany her to check on a group of survivors to assess whether or not they would be an asset to Grady, he figured it was a trap. He went along with it because it was just the two of them, while the bully boys were occupied with a project Hanson had set for them. Whether or not that's Lerner's doing, he doesn't know.
It means that he's on a rooftop on the western side of Atlanta, not all that far from the quarry, studying a garage through a military-grade scope that Lerner produced. He counts at least a dozen men, mostly younger than thirty by his guess, and all of them with gang tattoos. They seem in good health and are smart enough to be armed, but they disappear randomly into a covered entrance on a pattern he thinks is a patrol one.
"How did you come across these guys?"
"Dawson and I came across four of them raiding a pharmacy early on. We were outnumbered, so we just let them leave with their bags, and then we headed inside. Expected to see the usual stuff taken - Ritalin, Oxy, Valium - but one of them dropped a bottle as they left. Not much entertainment value in cholesterol medication."
"I'm guessing you investigated further?"
For all his dislike of the woman, Lerner isn't the type to let an unknown threat be this close by. The fact that he's pretty damn sure who these people are already isn't something he intends to share, and none of them would know who he was if he chose not to. He sees no reason to reveal information until he knows what her motives are.
Lerner nods. "Traced them back to a nursing home the next block over. They've done a good job of making it look deserted and keeping the only activity around the garage."
Bingo. It's definitely the Vatos, then. Shane feels a frisson of hope well through him, because there's a possibility Rick might have returned to potential allies after the CDC. It hadn't been worth the risk to the children for Shane to look for them, not when he didn't know where in Atlanta the group was located.
"Is the nursing home occupied?"
"As far as I can tell, yeah. I had Dawson put up trail cameras, and he got it done before he got bitten out on a run with Gorman." There's a bitterness to Lerner's tone that makes Shane consider that Lerner may have her own vendettas at play. Dawson's name is said almost fondly, so Shane needs to find out from Lamson if Dawson was a mentee - or more - of Lerner. "I've been checking the cameras, and the gang members leave and return with supplies, and sometimes you can see a couple of the old people crossing between this one open area they have to cross between the nursing home and garage."
"Does the captain know about them?"
The stories of Grady taking in survivors vary, but as best as Shane can tell, it's only the vulnerable who make it inside. He's guessing that while the nursing home residents would qualify as such, the Vatos guarding and supplying them are simply too dangerous. The odds are also in favor of some bad blood between the surviving cops and Vatos, even if it's not personal.
"Not yet. He's been resistant to any larger groups."
"But we need more people capable of heavy lifting and surviving in the city now that we are adapting the hospital for the long term," he muses, surprised when she nods without any antagonistic looks.
"Taking in however many old folks there are will be worth getting over a dozen capable grown men." She rises up from the crouch she was in and stares back into the distance toward Grady. "We're never going to be friends, Walsh, but I'm not so stupid as to stand in the way of progress. I never thought Hanson would ever admit help simply isn't coming."
Shane gets to his feet and packs away the scope. "I don't think he has admitted that," he says, figuring it can't hurt to be honest. "But he saw the logic of having plenty to offer when the government finally remembers Atlanta exists."
When they're back in the car, one of the civilian models they use from time to time when they don't want to advertise who they are to any roaming survivors, Lerner finally makes the request he should have known was coming. "These guys aren't going to like cops at all, but I think they'll like a white lady cop even less. First contact needs to be with someone they can relate to better."
"Such as?"
"Latino, Walsh. Or Hispanic or whatever the damn label you want."
"If that was your reasoning, you should have brought Lamson along." He closes his eyes, trying not to laugh. It's not the first time the assumption has been made based on his skin being a shade or two darker than the average Georgia white male.
"Jesus. I've heard you and Lamson speaking Spanish."
He opens his eyes and arches a brow at her. "Yeah, because I needed a language credit in high school and the French teacher was a bitch. Kept it up in college because it was useful to my degree at the time, and later on, the sheriff's department gave me a bonus to keep it up."
"Dammit. What the hell are you?" She trails off, rubbing a hand over her face. "It doesn't matter."
"It doesn't, and you're right that the basic assumption might get me at least a chance to speak." He gives in to the impulse and laughs, but it's dry and sardonic. "Although Lamson will be flattered to realize you consider me more expendable than he is."
As good as Lerner is at controlling her expression after an adult life spent on the police force, she can't control the flush that tints her skin pink. To her credit, she does meet his gaze levelly as she shrugs. He lets it go and considers the area, along with snippets of his extra knowledge from Rick's venture here to save Glenn. It's not much, since he hadn't been in the right mindset to really query them like he should have, but it's more than she has. It's a risk to make the attempt, but these guys aren't trigger happy thugs.
"Alright. Pick a vantage point and cover me from above."
"You'll do it?" She sounds surprised.
"It's a good idea. I'm not going to piss on it just because you don't think I'm as competent as you are."
Trusting her to at least make an effort to cover his back - or at least not put a bullet in it herself - he eases down the street into the shadows of the building to give her time to ascend to a sniper's position after they retrieve a rifle from the trunk. Glancing up, he sees her peering over the ledge and signals a thumbs up before moving just a bit faster to close the space between them and the garage. All the doors are tightly closed, and he can't hear a thing, so he's glad the Vatos are cautious. Instead of marching up like a foolish idiot, he snags up a smashed and depleted spray paint can and gives it a solid toss toward the closest of the roll down doors. It hits with a dull clang that he hopes doesn't echo too far, and he waits for a response.
It doesn't take long, although the Vatos are smart and don't open the garage door. Instead, a window on the second floor eases up slowly, and someone peeks down. It's quiet enough for Shane to hear the man reply to someone within that it's no walker, probably just that dumbass stray cat Miguel keeps feeding.
It's smartass of him, but Shane considers meowing, just to see if they'd come looking for a cat.
"Not a cat," he calls out. "But hopefully a friend."
From this angle, they can't shoot at him, but they also can't see him clearly. The man who opened the window wisely steps back out of sight, and Shane waits to see if anyone will reply back to him. He waits longer than he expects, and it's a different voice when the reply comes.
"We are not in need of friends."
"Not even one who used to be a deputy sheriff in King County?" Rick was in uniform when he interacted with the Vatos, and Shane hopes the months that have passed have not allowed the Vatos to forget Rick's willingness to share guns and ammunition with them.
There isn't a reply, at least not from the window. A door opens, and the fellow who ventures out is a slightly built man who Shane estimates to be around his own age. He isn't hiding behind any cover, looking toward the shadows that obscure his view of Shane.
"Knew a deputy from King County once. Stubborn son of a bitch with a bleeding heart," the man calls out.
"Sounds like you and I both knew Rick Grimes well," Shane replies.
"Maybe I do, stranger, but I don't know you at all."
Shane decides to take the risk and steps out into the sunlight. The man scans him critically and frowns.
"That is not a deputy sheriff's uniform."
"Said I was a former deputy. These days, I'm helping what's left of Atlanta's force to protect a group of the vulnerable." He reaches into a pocket and pulls out his ID holder, a little glad that the Grady cops still enforce carrying old world IDs. His may not be properly updated, although he honestly thinks if the old police headquarters wasn't destroyed in the bombing, he'd have been hauled in for one. Taking out the plastic card, he holds it out as he steps into range for the other man to read.
"Where is Rick Grimes these days?"
"Not sure," Shane admits. Lerner doesn't know he was in Atlanta before. "Are you Guillermo?"
There's a flicker of concern that disappears quickly, but the man nods.
"My partner up on the roof that's covering me the way your man is you? She doesn't need to know that I was in Atlanta before. I know Rick left you guns and ammo to protect the old folks. I hope that can buy me some consideration until we can speak without being overhead. It's complicated, but the offer of a safe place is very real. There's food, medicine, and an honest-to-god doctor."
Lerner probably can't hear them clearly, but he's taking no chances.
Guillermo sighs and shrugs, and Shane isn't sure he's going to agree, but his luck holds. "I want to see proof of this safe place before I agree to anything."
Shane looks over his shoulder to where he knows Lerner is waiting and reaches for his radio to cue the mike. "Man wants proof our place is safe, Lieutenant."
"That can be arranged, if he's willing to take a trip."
To his surprise, Guillermo agrees readily, and as easy as that, he and Dawn Lerner shift the population of Grady in ways he just prays don't work against him and Lamson. He just has to trust that Rick found someone to respect when he met Guillermo, and any man willing to stay in the madness of Atlanta to protect the elderly and infirm that he doesn't even have familial ties with is someone Shane cannot fathom ever siding with Gorman.
Bringing a group of more than forty people to Grady is both exhilarating and exhausting. Being summoned to Captain Hanson's office and placed in charge of the twenty-two elderly residents is both surprising and not. No one at Grady has any sort of organizational experience that even comes close to handling all this, and Hanson's easy assumption that Carol can take it on is flattering.
She's surprised that the Vatos accepted the initial requirement to disarm while inside the hospital. Based on what little Rick told the group about the Vatos, she'd expected the men to protest more about moving under the aegis of cops they likely used to clash with, philosophically if not in reality. Then again, these are men who stayed inside the danger zone of Atlanta itself to help look after a vulnerable population everyone else forgot about. They're probably better in tune with decency than the majority of Grady cops anyway.
It'll be interesting to see how everything plays out. She doesn't think when Lerner made this particular play that she realized the easiest and best place to put all of the Vatos was on the same floor with Carol's family. They've got far more space than a single family needs, and that's without even opening up the actual delivery portion, ambulatory surgery, or the physical therapy offices on their floor. Honestly, she can't understand why they spread everyone out over multiple floors anyway, when the entire population of Atlanta could easily fit on one floor, even if they only use rooms with window access to avoid smothering in the heat and humidity.
Between Carol, Joan, the kids, and the four able-bodied but older non-Vato relatives Guillermo has to help him and Felipe, Carol only needs a handful of Vatos. She lets Guillermo choose who is best adapted to that, sending the rest of the men to the other side of the wing to begin a deep clean on the set of rooms that overlook the centerpoint of the hospital's lopsided H-shape. She gives Guillermo and Felipe a grateful smile.
"I know they want to help, but there's only so much room to maneuver."
Felipe shrugs, sorting through the boxes Carol set aside to clear the nurses' station weeks ago. She doubts it's much use to him, but she understands why he'd double check. He's set it up as a medication and chart station for his patients with an efficiency that Carol admires.
"None of them will be offended. I am actually flattered that so many stayed," Guillermo explains. "I honestly thought that some would refuse to come once there were easy meds and supplies for the old ones. Only about half have an actual relative with us."
"They know what it is like out there," she says. "I'm betting living with cops feels better than dodging herds in the countryside." She also figures that many of the Vatos are just more familiar and comfortable in an urban area, just like Carol is. As much as she loved Shane's house on the river, it felt safe because he was a local and knew the area. Carol can't imagine staying there without him.
"The female lieutenant seemed very frustrated about our assigned quarters."
"I'm not sure I'd know what she looks like when she wasn't pissed off about something," Carol mutters, and both men laugh. "I know this is a change from what your people may have had, but we're in the process of converting the one rooftop we can access from this part of the hospital to an outdoor area for the kids. We're far enough up that we can't be seen based on where the railing has been installed."
"I am guessing that you are inviting our people to enjoy the sunshine as well."
"I think that they'd benefit, and the children certainly won't mind sharing the space." There are plenty of corridors to run in, and Shane's new rank got Carol the keys to the entire floor, so there's even a gymnasium on the far side of the building that she can let the boys enjoy now that it's getting cooler. They tested with someone on the street, and the room is solidly soundproof, although the boys find the view of the freeway eerie enough that they stay away from the windows.
"Then allow me to offer whatever manual labor is needed to finish the little park, as well as any other communal areas."
What Carol can do with motivated helpers is probably beyond what Hanson has ever considered. She thanks Guillermo for the offer, filing it away to bring it up with Shane later. He doesn't have to tell her that they need to bind the Vatos' loyalty to them, and as long as he's competent, Captain Hanson.
Supper is delivered on carts just like they've returned to regular hospital status, and Carol is careful to check that the elderly aren't being set up to be in debt for their meals. Luckily, the Vatos brought in so much surplus that she can't imagine Lerner even making the attempt, especially since it would offend potential allies. The food delivery reminds her that being spread out across multiple floors could become a resource issue as well. It makes her quiet through the evening routine, mulling it all over, but Shane just watches her carefully. He doesn't question her until they've retreated to their quarters.
"Good thoughts or worried ones?" he asks as he takes a seat in the recliner to shed his boots and uniform, glancing up at her with the most content smile she thinks she's ever seen on him. He's slowly forgetting to worry that she'll be offended by simple domesticity like changing clothing to get ready for bed, and she can't complain. Even when he's still wearing the dark cotton t-shirt that goes under his uniform, she doesn't hide her admiration of the form hidden beneath it.
"Both." She taps the notebook she appropriated so she doesn't forget something in the increased responsibilities she has now at Hanson's behest. The night's turned chilly enough to shut their windows, which is not unusual for September after a rainstorm, but it's a reminder that winter is coming. "I don't think anyone has considered heating this place come winter."
Shane groans softly, running a hand through his hair and mussing the curls wildly. "Considering it was over a hundred degrees last week, I'm gonna agree with you. Won't be long before we get temps where extra clothes and blankets won't help."
"And even that is risky with our newest residents. Easiest fix is wood heat, but that's a lot of fires to keep burning. I can't imagine the generators managing to run anything resembling a furnace."
"I'd imagine the system here runs off some type of boiler. Probably has an entire steam plant set up to run off natural gas, and if it's like the emergency plans we had back home, it would require at least one other fuel source as a backup in case the natural gas system was disrupted. The tricky part will be figuring out how to get it online and running properly, but I think we have enough mechanics on hand to sort it out. As long as the backup is something we can find and haul in, like fuel oil or propane, we can figure it out."
It's a relief to hear there may be an alternative because Atlanta might normally have mild winters, but it still gets cold enough that they could lose people to hypothermia in the deepest parts of winter. Having them completely reliant on some system no one really understands makes her nervous, though. "Maybe we stock up on wood heat as an emergency backup, too?"
"I don't see why not. Hanson's a reasonable man, and we just more than doubled our able-bodied roster."
Reassured, Carol reaches for her book while Shane ventures into the shower. He's swift and efficient, like they all are, and no one wants their already sparse resources redirected away from hygiene by wasting water. She does wonder if getting the hospital's boiler system online would give them actual hot water, which sounds like a real luxury once winter does take hold.
Shane is bare-chested when he leaves the bathroom, clad only in an old pair of athletic shorts despite the chill of the room. It took her a few nights to convince him he didn't have to wear a shirt and sweatpants to bed, although she strongly suspects if she weren't there, he wouldn't even bother with shorts to bed. He flips his damp towel over the rack Carol rigged up before joining her in bed, stretching out on his side and blinking at her sleepily. "New book?"
They may be married in name only and only by their own declaration, but for a man who was never married before, Shane has a level of attention to detail that Carol knows a lot of women would envy having turned on them. She could have read the same book fifty times sitting next to Ed, and he'd only scoff at her reading at all, not noticing she'd switched novels.
"The Time Traveler's Wife. They made it into a movie a few years ago. Beth says both are nice, if a bit sad and whimsical."
"Haven't read the book, but I've seen the movie. I think every woman I knew was a bit obsessed with it when it first came out, although I think it was less the story it told and how often the guy ended up naked from losing his clothes every time he popped through time."
"I could read to you. See how it compares." She knows he's tired, but she's a little bit selfish in wanting to extend the little moments like this where she wishes it was all more than pretend.
He gives her a slow, lazy grin and nods, his eyes drifting closed as she flips to the beginning and starts reading aloud. Out of old habit with the kids lying near her, she reaches out and smooths her hand across his still damp curls. When she realizes what she's done, she freezes, but he tips his head against her palm in an obvious request for her to continue, so she cards through his hair idly as she reads. At the end of the second chapter, it seems like he's fallen asleep, so she sets the book aside on her nightstand and wriggles down onto the pillow next to him.
Since he's on his side, she can't curl up against his chest like she normally does if he falls asleep first. Neither of them has commented on the fact that they sleep so closely. She thinks of how good it feels to wake up against him, even if he's unfailingly polite in rolling his hips away if there are any nighttime reactions on his part. The idea of him not moving away makes her shiver, and she mentally rolls her eyes at herself for the schoolgirl crush she persists in maintaining on Shane.
The movement makes his eyes flicker open. "Cold?" he mumbles, reaching down to yank the quilt over them both. He rolls to his back and, for the first time, hauls her right into contact with him. It means her body coming into contact with him is a little less sedate and careful, and she hears a sharp intake of breath when her thigh slides right between his to press against him.
Why she takes the leap tonight, she doesn't know, but instead of moving away just enough to maintain the idea that this is for warmth, she tilts her head up to see that he's watching her, his dark eyes intent in a way that makes her brave. When she slides her leg just a little closer and snugs right up against him, his eyes widen, and he groans softly.
More importantly, he makes no movement away from intimate contact.
"Carol?"
Not breaking eye contact, she trails her hand slowly down the planes of his stomach, smiling slowly when he groans again, arching into her touch. The thing she's noticed the most about Shane is how tactile he is. If he's within range of her or the kids, he's almost always dropping an arm around a shoulder, drawing someone close for an affectionate hug, and, what she really adores, playful roughhousing with all the kids.
"Carol…"
His voice has dropped an octave, and there's no mistaking that he very much likes her touch. She cups his hip, rubbing her thumb along the bare skin above his waistband.
When he moves at last, she expects to be rolled to her back, but instead, he hauls her atop him, reaching up to cup the back of her head and kissing her with a tenderness she didn't expect and finds absolutely perfect. His hands wander, exploring her back and nudging her thighs so that she's sprawled astride him. Her nightshirt slides up, so she ends up pressed bare belly to bare belly with him, and she revels in the contact. But he doesn't move beyond the firm yet gentle grip on her ass, smiling into the kiss before ending it.
"We've been married for a while without having a wedding night," she says, giving him an impish grin. It's easy enough to let her legs slide to bracket his and sit up enough that only cloth separates them. It makes him lose his grip on her ass, which she'd mourn except for the naughty thrill she gets when she rocks her hips down against him.
"Jesus." He hisses out a breath, his hips arching into her in a movement she thinks is involuntary as he scrabbles for purchase and ends up with big hands cupping her thighs. "Are you sure about this, Carol? The kids…"
There's a mournful note in the question and trailed off statement that reminds her that the last woman Shane slept with, whom he convinced himself he loved, barred him from a child he did truly love deeply. She reaches down to cup his face between her hands, her heart aching a little when he turns into her touch like a drowning man finding a lifeline. There's a part of her that wonders if she changes her mind now, if he'd honestly spend however long the kids need him as celibate rather than risk losing those kids, but it's also obvious that Shane craves a partner's affection as much as sex.
She'd seen and envied his fond interactions with Lori. They'd kept the physical part mostly hidden due to Carl, but just their day-to-day comfort with each other makes her think that if Rick had never reappeared, Shane and Lori would have continued to build as happy a life as the apocalypse allowed. But Rick did survive, and as grumpy as Carol has been in the past about the way Lori ended things with Shane, she could understand Lori's first priority being her actual husband. Everything Carol's heard tells her that Rick is a good man, even if he was not the most attentive husband in the world before civilization fell.
"The kids adore you, Shane. They aren't playacting when they call you Dad."
He swallows hard. "Henry told me he loved me tonight when I tucked the boys in."
"That explains why you were grinning earlier."
"Yeah."
When he eases her to lay beside him, she doesn't have time to be disappointed because he keeps them face to face, one arm under her and his hand cupping the back of her head as he kisses her. It's a leisurely exploration, the kind she imagines they could have every night. She takes advantage of it to stroke her hands along all the bare skin she can reach, memorizing the feel of him. He seems to take that as encouragement, because his free hand slides up her side. It's her that groans this time, arching into his touch, and dammit, he smiles again even as they kiss.
It's an indicator that Shane is as playful as she is about this, because once he starts to explore, he's an absolute tease, with each touch designed to make her squirm. When Carol gets vocal, it doesn't take her long at all to realize that her praise is a serious turn-on for him. He tugs off her thin cotton nightshirt with her help before pausing.
Before she can let the doubts she can never quite chase away about being older than him, he clears his throat. "God, you're fucking gorgeous, Carol."
He isn't leaving her shirt on, looking away, or rushing to his own pleasure. She'd known he'd be kinder than Ed when it came to sex, and she had no doubts she'd enjoy it, but she hadn't expected this level of attention to be exclusively hers.
"Then you're not the only one enjoying the view," she says, figuring the truth works the best here. Gorgeous works as a descriptor for him, even if his features aren't classically handsome. It's not just his physique contributing to that for her, but the enraptured look he has as he strips away her last scrap of clothing.
- edited scene, full scene available on AO3 -
It's an odd position to lie in as he catches his breath, but the awkwardness fades away when he meets her gaze again. He should look sated. God knows she feels satisfied. Instead, as dark eyes draw across her body lying in its well-pleased sprawl, he looks like he's about half a second away from trying again. Untangling his arms, he shifts position to roll them to their sides and lay chest to chest. She arches a leg over his hip, not willing to lose the close contact yet.
Shane doesn't seem to be in a hurry to move either, one hand exploring her back while he presses small kisses not just to her lips but to her cheeks and forehead. They shouldn't fall asleep like this, naked and sticky like teenagers, but she can't find the energy to go clean up yet. When sleep comes for them both, Carol just decides they'll deal with the rest tomorrow. For tonight, they've made their marriage of convenience one in truth, and she's just going to revel in that.