24 September 2017

A Marriage Chapter 7

In which Maggie and Daryl get closer. Someone from Josephine's past comes to Genesis. Maggie doesn't have an easy time of it at school.
...
When Maggie awoke Sunday morning, alone, she tried to deny she was disappointed Daryl wasn't in bed next to her. She laid her hand on his pillow and gave it a gentle caress while she allowed herself to slowly awaken. Her body reminded her of the night before in the ghost of his presence inside her, with just a touch of soreness, and a little bit of burn from the scratch of his beard. It had been a few years for her, and they'd gotten rather vigorous in both kissing and love. It had been good, the best she'd felt in quite awhile, and it brought a smile to her lips to think of it now.
The house was quiet, and the clock on Daryl's bedside table read 05:47. She hoped to hear the shower running, or the toilet flushing, but there was only silence. Maybe he was in the kitchen, or perhaps outside smoking. As she lay there, her mind shrugging off the last vestiges of sleep, she began to feel a little foolish at her disappointment.
Maggie enjoyed sex and she had a voracious libido when she was in a new relationship, especially if the man was good in bed, and Daryl was very good indeed. To hell with the feelings behind it, she wanted round two, and she wanted it now. So what if this wasn't a real marriage—yet? She didn't have live like a nun with a good-looking, well-endowed man sharing her bed. She shrugged the blankets off and went to use the bathroom, putting aside any silly feelings of let-down his absence brought about. She had a husband, not a random man she'd brought home for a hookup, and he decided to split before she awakened because he wasn't interested in sticking around for conversation.
"Quit being an idiot," she told her reflection. She was married to her new lover. He wasn't just gonna up and leave. She certainly didn’t feel anything deeper than friendship for him, despite her mother's advice. She'd merely fallen victim to after-sex clinginess.
She was still in the shower when Daryl came in. He was wearing sweatpants, and pulling off his tennis shoes to set neatly in the corner of the bathroom, stuffing his socks inside. She peeped out and watched him pee at the toilet. He was dripping with sweat from an early morning run. That's why he'd been gone when she woke up.
"Morning," she said, peering at him from behind the sliding shower door
He rinsed his mouth and put his toothbrush up, looking at her. He allowed his eyes to roam over her nakedness, which was dripping with water and lingering remnants of soap.
"Morning, missus,” he said, smiling at her.
"Hop on in," she said, stepping back. "You're all sweaty and stinky."
He hesitated, and she felt uncertainty begin to tug the smile from her face. Just as she was certain he’d refuse, he smiled, saluted, and stepped inside, allowing her to pull the door closed. Maggie got a bottle of shampoo and lathered his hair before she rinsed her hands under the spray.
"You run every morning?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, rinsing the soap from his hair with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. "Gotta stay in shape so I can keep up with the young men under my command."
He was lathering his body, his mind focused on the task, but Maggie could feel her pulse quicken. Damn, if he didn't look good, standing under the spray, soap and water sluicing down every inch of his body. The muscles of his arms bulged whenever he lifted his arms to run them through his hair, and water splashed over his broad shoulders, running down his chest, and lower, before cascading from the end of his penis.
"You've got a young wife to keep up with, too," she said, and reached out to brush a glob of suds away from his forehead, before it could get in his eyes. He looked at her with a slight smile.
"That too," he said, letting his hands come to rest on her waist, where his thumbs lightly stroked her warm, wet skin. His eyes were too serious for the moment, as he looked into hers. "You know, we don't have to keep this up. I don't want you to feel like—"
"I liked last night," Maggie said. “I like sex, and I like you.”
Maggie leaned in and plunged her tongue into his mouth. Daryl reacted immediately, kissing her back with as much eagerness as she felt. She dragged her lips away from his, let her head fall back as his mouth grazed her jaw, her ear, where his breath was warm yet managed to send a shiver down her body and straight between her legs, where his fingers sought her out. He toyed with her bud, pushing her against the cold tiles of the wall. She wrapped a leg around him, opening herself to his eager fingers.
"Daryl," she whispered. "I need you."
He didn't deny her what she wanted. Instead he turned her to face the wall, gripped her waist with one hand, and used his other to guide himself to her. A moment later her body yielded to his. Her, soft and wet, him hard and hot, yet gentle as he entered her.
It turned out Daryl was a devout, and completely unapologetic, atheist. Those were two things that didn't sit well with Patricia, if her stiff posture and thinned lips were anything to go by, but she politely kept her opinions about his lack of faith in the almighty to herself. When Rick came downstairs, he was, remarkably, without a hangover.
"How are you not sick?" Beth asked him, as he loaded eggs and bacon onto his plate.
"I guzzled a lot of water before I went to bed last night," he explained. "I feel right as rain today. In fact, I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry.”
"I made plenty, so help yourself," Josephine said. "How's Carl? I haven't seen that boy in nigh two years."
"Still growing like a weed, Miss Jo," Rick said, looking proud at the mention of his son.
Maggie noticed Beth was destroying a piece of toast by rubbing her butter knife over one spot. Her eyes were glued to Rick, who slathered some of Josephine's peach preserves on his toast, unaware that she was completely enraptured by him. Maggie kicked Beth's foot under the table, and she quickly looked back to her toast. Daryl tried not to laugh from his place across from Maggie.
After breakfast was completed, Rick said his goodbyes, taking care to kiss Josephine’s hand and giving her a slight bow, ever the gentleman. Beth immediately stuck hers out, too, making Rick grin as he bowed and kissed hers, as well, keeping eye contact the whole time and making her giggle like little girl. As soon as he was out the door, Beth hurried over to watch him go.
"He's so good-looking!" she said, watching him leave. "He's…he's…he’s so…"
"Old?" Josephine supplied.
"He's not old! He's what, forty, at most?" Beth argued.
"Which is twice your age," Patricia pointed out.
"Daryl's sixteen years older than Maggie, y'all don't have a problem with that," Beth pointed out.
"She's also almost thirty," said Otis, fixing his tie in the mirror. "What about Noah?"
"Oh, I'm not gonna go chasing after Rick Grimes," Beth said, waving them off. "He's just really handsome. Possibly the most handsome man I've ever met, besides Daryl here."
Daryl made a face, something between embarrassment and pride, that tickled Maggie, though she managed not to laugh.
"You didn't make googlie eyes at Rick last night," Maggie said, crossing her arms and shaking her head at Beth's fickle nature.
"I couldn't, with Noah right there," she said, scowling. "He got mad at me for no reason whatsoever! Then he went off with that woman you work with."
"You were talking to me," Daryl said.
"What?" Beth asked, frowning.
"He was angry because you were talking to me," he clarified. "He was jealous."
"Of what?" Beth demanded. "You're in the family now. I'm not allowed to talk to you, and get to know you? That just doesn't make any sense."
"Jealousy never make sense, Beth," Patricia said. "Y'all are both young. You'll figure it out."
"Y'all mind if I keep Maggie home today?" Daryl asked.
Beth snorted with laughter, earning her a reproachful look from Josephine, who nodded her agreement.
"You don't need to ask my permission, Daryl," Josephine said. "You're the man of the house, now, and Maggie's your wife. I still appreciate the gesture of respect, though."
"It'll do them good to have some time alone," Patricia said, as they cleared the breakfast dishes to be washed, when she thought Maggie couldn't hear her.
She barely could, actually, over Beth's giggles. Maggie shushed her little sister, who grabbed her hand tugged her toward the stairs and up to her room.
“Beth, what are you doing?” Maggie demanded, hurrying to keep up with Beth as they trotted up the stairs. As soon as the door was shut, Beth started moaning.
"Oh...oh...oh God...Daryl...Daryl…"
"Beth, you hush up!" Maggie hissed, her face now on fire.
"All that was missing was some tacky music and it would've made a great porn," Beth said, laughing.
Maggie was hot all over from embarrassment. It was one thing for Beth to hear, but her mother? Patricia and Otis?
"You could hear us upstairs?" Maggie asked, mortified.
"I only heard because I came down to sneak an extra slice of cake," Beth assured her. "You weren't that loud, really."
"Sometimes I hate you," Maggie said, sighing in relief.
"So, it was really good, huh?" said Beth, putting on some lip balm.
"Yeah, it was good," said Maggie. "I just don't remember actually saying 'Oh God, Daryl'."
"I ain't making that up, Sis,” Beth swore. “You were moaning his name. I also could hear you in the shower this morning, but to be fair, I cracked the door open, after I saw him go into the room, just to see if y'all was fooling around."
"You're an actual, legitimate, bona fide pervert, Beth Greene," Maggie said, shaking her head.
"Aren't you in love?"
"No?" Maggie answered.
Beth frowned at her sister and came to sit next to her on the bed.
"Are you asking or saying?" asked Beth.
"No," Maggie said, this time with more confidence.
“Oh, my God, Maggie, you’re falling for him,” she declared, clapping a hand to her chest. “I can tell. You've got a crush, for sure. You know what? That's sweet."
Maggie wanted away from her sister and her ideas about love. She got up and started for the door.
"I've got laundry to get done. He brought me a pile of dirty uniforms as a wedding present."
"Listen, I know the deed is done, but you need to rope him in, keep him happy," Beth said. "When we're gone at church you need to fool around some more. Make that bond."
"I had no idea you were an expert, Beth," said Maggie, standing with her door on the handle.
"Just don't go crazy all over the house," Beth continued. "Especially in the kitchen or dining room. We eat there. And stay off the furniture. Especially the couch. I watch TV in there."
"That just leaves your bed," said Maggie with an evil smirk. She shut the door on Beth's look of utter disgust.
"The temperature is all the way up to fifty degrees today," Maggie said a couple of hours later, while she sorted laundry. "Rainy, too. We at least won't have to worry about somebody setting fire to the fields today."
Daryl's dress uniforms would have to be dry-cleaned, which she planned to take to the base the next day, since the service was free for SL members there. The fatigues were fine in the wash. She came into the study when she finished and saw he was writing something on a sheet of paper, his expression intensely focused, until she leaned beside him.
"What's this? Anything you can talk about?" she asked.
"Plans for crops," he explained. "Hershel mostly grew sweet corn, right?"
"Yeah," Maggie confirmed, "though he grew a lot of other stuff, too: tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, lettuce, spinach, and strawberries. He's got peach and apple trees in the groves, too. Is that what you've got in mind for us?"
"I'm game to grow whatever he did," Daryl said. "We've got all the equipment we need. The big thing is hiring farm hands to work the land. I'm not a farmer. None of us are, except Otis."
"Otis is old and heavy, and his health is failing, though," Maggie pointed out. "He can't do what he used to but he can still supervise. He knows what the crops need. I mean, he'd be your man to oversee the laborers. Plus, hiring people will help them feed their families."
"That's where a loan will come in," Daryl told her. "I'm going to go apply before word can get out to Mike Grady what I'm up to and he can start bitching about it."
They shared a laugh and Daryl leaned back in the chair.
"I'll draw up a business plan, you can look it over? Spelling and grammar's never been my strong suit."
"I'd be happy to," she said. "So, did you ask me to stay home just to wash your clothes?"
Their gaze lingered for a moment as their smiles began to fade, with both of them were very much aware that they had the house to themselves. Daryl's eyes slid over Maggie's body and she knew exactly where his mind was going. After all, she was looking at him with the same intent.
"Round three?" she asked, scooting over to straddle his lap.
"I don't know," he said, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’m still a little tired from this morning.”
"Then how about we relax on the couch, instead?" she suggested. "You've gotta leave tonight. You could take a little nap while I finish your uniforms.”
She tried to sound neutral, but she was overwhelmed with feelings. She liked Daryl, she liked having sex with him, but at the same time she was worried for his safety. He couldn’t tell her exactly what was going on, but she knew the situation brewing with General Blake wasn’t a good one, and he could end up going to battle.
"I'll be fine," he said, catching on to her concern.
"Is everything okay?" she asked. "I mean, is there a fight coming?"
Before Daryl could answer the doorbell rang. He sighed and Maggie got up from his lap.
"I'll get it," Daryl said.
Maggie followed him to the living room but hung back while he answered the door. She heard a man speaking from the other side but she couldn't see him past Daryl's large frame and broad shoulders.
"Hello. My name's Vernon Greene," the man said. "I'm Hershel Greene's first cousin. I was looking for his wife, Josephine. I imagine she may be at church, at this hour."
"Yeah," Daryl answered. "She's not expected back before two o’clock. I'm her son-in-law. Daryl Dixon."
"Yes, you married Hershel's eldest girl, Maggie," he said. Maggie watched Daryl shake hands with the man on the porch before Daryl invited him in.
Maggie had heard very little of cousin Vernon. What she had heard hadn't been good. He wasn't an overly tall man, about Daryl's height, but much slimmer, and younger than she expected. He looked to be about fifty-five years of age, with only a small paunch in the middle of an otherwise narrow body. He looked rough, as though he'd spent much of his life doing hard labor.
It was his face she didn't like. It was narrow, bony, topped with urine yellow hair that had started to gray, looking like someone had peed on his head, from what she could see. There was a distinct look to him that made her think one word: rat. He looked nothing like her father, for which she was glad.
He looked at Maggie and gave her a tight smile. She came forward, reluctantly, to shake the hand he offered.
"I haven't had the good fortune to see you since you were a newborn," Vernon Greene said. "So nice to see you grew up into a lovely young lady, Maggie."
"Thank you," she said, careful to sound welcoming, even though she didn't feel it. "Would you care for a cup of coffee?"
"You can afford coffee?" he asked, his eyebrows arching. "That's impressive. I had no idea Hershel's will provided so well. I'd like a cup but I'm afraid it'll have to wait until another time. I have to get settled into my room at the hotel in town. Travel between settlements can be dangerous, as you well know. This hasn't been an easy journey for me, especially financially. I'll be seeing you tomorrow. I'll call and speak with Josie tonight. Good day to you both."
He left the house and Maggie frowned as she watched him leave.
"I don't like him," she said.
“I don’t like complainers," Daryl agreed. "If you don't want him in this house I won't let him come back."
"I'll leave that up to Mama if she wants to see him," Maggie said, turning to go to the laundry room. "As for me, I've got laundry to get done and dinner to start. You relax on the couch, Mister."
As soon as Josephine learned Vernon was in Genesis she heaved a sigh and shared gazes with Otis and Patricia. Maggie had only spent a minute in his company and, while he hadn't said or done anything particularly offensive, she'd still disliked him.
"What about him?" Beth asked, watching her mother.
"He's difficult," Josephine said, but her tone was cautious. "It doesn't matter. I'll let him make his phone call, though I have an idea what he wants. Hopefully I can get rid of him without a lot of trouble."
"Is he gonna be a problem for you, Jo?" Daryl asked, studying her closely. The tight line of her mouth, the drawn look around her eyes, and the wan tint to her skin was starting to worry him.
"He'll try to be," she answered. "That's just how Vernon is."
Josephine didn't get her call that night, at least not that Maggie knew. She and the rest of the family turned in early, so they could rise early. As soon as Daryl shut the lights off he wrapped Maggie in his arms, spooning her.
"I thought you had to leave," Maggie said.
"Not till later," he said. "I'll see you off to sleep, first."
Maggie smiled and felt a rush of affection for Daryl. He was so big in comparison to her, and his chest was like a warm, solid wall behind her.
"Maybe I'm paranoid, but Josephine's holding something back," Daryl said.
"Why you say that?" asked Maggie. She felt him shrug behind her.
"She went pale, her back was stiff, and her mouth was pinched tight," he said. "This guy distresses her, and I don't like it."
Maggie turned to face him, even though she couldn't see him in the pitch black of the room. The moon was hidden behind the rain clouds that refused to go away, but she could smell the toothpaste on Daryl's warm breath. The feel of his fingers lightly curling and uncurling on her side was comforting.
"I got the feeling he scared her," she said, after a few moments of silence. "He said he'd call but didn't."
"Mind games, probably," Daryl said. "If she's afraid of him, of what he might say, and he didn't call, he's keeping her on the hook. I should see about this guy. Find out what the hell he wants."
"The farm, maybe?" Maggie suggested. "He's got a claim on the land."
"Not since we married, he don’t," Daryl reminded her. "I made sure we upheld Genesis law. Not that it matters. I'm third in command of the largest Settlement in Georgia. Third largest in the country. He ain't getting shit."
Maggie nodded and made a sound of agreement. Despite her worry for her mother, she was dead tired. The bed was warm, Daryl was warm, and the rain beat a steady rhythm against the window.
"Too bad you won't be here when I wake up tomorrow," she whispered.
"If I didn't have to go, I wouldn't," Daryl said. "Rick says absence makes the heart grow fonder."
"Screw Rick," Maggie said, snorting with laughter, and he chuckled with her.
He kissed her on the forehead, squeezed her close, and a few moments later she was fast asleep.
In the morning, Maggie awoke to an empty bed. The alarm rang at five o'clock, forcing her from sleep with its shrill buzzing. She shut it off and took a deep breath of Daryl's pillow. It smelled of his shampoo, and that filled her chest with warmth. He was only supposed to be gone a few days anyway. A week, tops, and she could live without him that long.
Maggie was first up, so she set about the task of checking the phone while the coffee brewed. According to the screen, they'd received a call around 11:30. They always turned the ringers off at 8:30, out of habit, since they usually turned in at nine o'clock. She mentioned the call while she flipped sausages and eggs on the griddle. Beth told her to remember she liked her yolk busted and cooked firm.
"Why would he call at that time of night?" Beth asked, when she sat down at the table. "Surely he knows we go to bed, and get up, early."
Sleet pounded the windows and the winds were driving hard. Josephine declined to speak on the subject, and Beth didn't push.
"Maggie, can you give me a ride to school this morning?" she asked. "I know it's out of your way, but I don't wanna bike in this."
"Noah's not picking you up?" Maggie asked.
"No," Beth said, shaking her head and looking sad. She didn't elaborate, but elected to keep herself busy by scraping the detritus of bacon rinds and toast crust into the trash and put her plate in the dish washer. She ran upstairs and Maggie shared a look with her mother.
"Trouble in paradise?" Maggie said.
"She's only out of her teens four months," said Patricia. "She's so young, and she ain't likely to find her soul mate already. If they break up, it’s not a shocker.”
"Jo, phone," Otis said. "Daryl."
"For me?" Josephine said. Otis nodded, and Josephine went to the study to take the call, leaving Patricia to clean up while Maggie headed to her room to get ready for work.
"Hello?" she said.
"Morning, Miss Jo," he said. There was something in the background, an engine sound. He was on the road.
"Morning, son," she said, smiling. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"
"I wanted to talk about Vernon Greene," he said. "I'm not gonna ask you to tell me all your business if you don't want to, but I need to protect what's mine. Y'all's my family now. I intend to keep you safe."
Josephine felt her chest swell with affection for Daryl. She wasn't much older than him, fifteen years, but she had already started to regard him as her boy. He was so much like Shawn in how protective he was by nature. He'd finally gotten a family, and she had no doubts he intended to keep them as safe as he could.
"He likely wants to make a nuisance of himself," she said. "In all honesty I'm surprised he didn't call fifty times and leave angry messages, or even show up here himself in the middle of the night."
"He comes to this house in the middle of the night he's gonna get one warning," Daryl said in a stern voice. "After that, I'll personally throw him in jail. He doesn't know who he's fu-messing with. Miss Jo, is there something you're not telling me?"
"There's a lot I'm not telling you, and I ain't gonna unless I have no choice," she said, but her tone wasn't harsh. "Things happened back then, before you came into our life the first time, and I'd rather not relive it if I don't have to."
"I understand that," he said. "I'm not trying to take your secrets. I just wanna make sure you're okay, and safe. I won't let him harass you, Maggie, or anyone else. Call this number if something happens. I'll get back to you."
"Is that a cell phone?" Josephine asked.
"Yeah," Daryl confirmed. "I've got it on me at all times."
"Beth's wanted one of those since she was a baby," Josephine said. "I hear they cause brain cancer."
Daryl laughed over the line before they said their goodbye's. When she hung up, Josephine felt somewhat lighter in her chest. Vernon Greene was going to make himself a burden, but she wouldn't have to carry it alone. Not with Daryl in the family.
"God, this weather's horrible," Patricia said, looking outside.
Snow had mixed with the rain and the unusual cold spell they were going through showed no signs of letting up anytime soon. It was coming down nearly horizontally when Maggie and Beth came downstairs. The sun was still a ways from rising, but the porch light showed how hard it was raining.
"I'd better get dressed and ready the wagon," Patricia said. "Otis has an appointment at nine this morning for his foot. Doc Stookey thinks he'll have to operate. He found a little tumor."
"Tumor?" Beth said in alarm, hefting her bookbag and looking at Otis with some worry.
"It's benign," Otis hurried to assure her. "Still, gotta get it cut out at some point. Then my foot will quit swelling up and I can finally get rid of this cane."
"Mama, you've still got your driver's licence, right?" Maggie said. "Why don't you take Daryl's jeep? He left the keys, said we can use it."
"Mama can't drive a standard," said Beth.
"Sure I can, Honey," Josephine said, making Beth's brows climb into her fringe. "I was raised on a farm, married a farmer, been using trucks all my life. Thanks, Maggie."
Maggie was grateful to have a car, instead of biking, in weather like this. She drove through town, relieved Beth didn’t have to, either. The day would warm up and the sleet would turn to rain but for now it was a slushy mess that made getting into school a real problem. After she dropped Beth off, she started through town, and the increasingly dense traffic that came with people trying to get to work and school at the same time of the morning.
"Mrs. Dixon! Mrs. Dixon!"
Maggie was so intent on getting to her classroom and getting it set up that she didn't realize the girl in the hall was hollering for her. This was the first time someone had called her by her new name.
"Oh, Katie. Sorry, I didn't…"
"Not used to your new name?" Katie asked, smiling. She passed Maggie a note. "I'm heading down for breakfast, and then Mr. Paul needs help getting the bleachers set up for assembly later. He says Roger, Mary, and I are needed, if it's okay with you."
"That's fine," Maggie said. "Just remember to bring a note."
Katie hurried off and Maggie headed inside to warm up her classroom and write a reminder on the chalkboard.
Attention: Miss Greene is now Mrs. Dixon
...
Maggie ended the first school day hearing a lot of snickers. Most were from teenaged boys who were thinking of how their teacher undoubtedly got laid over the weekend. A few of the boys with crushes on her were surly or very quiet. It was the girls who made comments about how their teacher made an arranged marriage with the last of the dreaded Dixon clan.
There a few older ladies, teachers, who made comments, deliberately loud enough for her to hear, that she'd married Dixon scum and tarnished the good Greene name. As if they knew anything about him, or her situation. Maggie pretended not to hear, but inside she was seething with anger. It was all she could do to hold her tongue.
"I count myself lucky, marrying Daryl," Maggie said, sitting in the teacher's lounge at lunch. She was speaking to Carol, Karen, and Rosita, who all smiled at her, knowing she was finally taking the chance to say something back to the middle-aged and elderly gossips who’d been nitpicking at her all day.
"Good in bed?" Carol asked loudly.
"He's a beast in the sack," she informed the room at large. "Not to mention wealthy and good-looking. Would you care for some coffee?"
"He's third in command of Genesis, isn't he, the largest settlement in Georgia?" Karen asked, ignoring the glares from the older women who'd trashed Daryl's name in the hall all day, as Maggie walked by. "Not bad for a Dixon."
"Not bad at all," Carol agreed. "You'd be amazed how many women are disappointed he's off the market now. All that power and prestige, he's quite a catch."
Maggie shared her thermos with her friends, as well as the last of the cake from her ceremony, while the gossips stared at her resentfully. Their smug smiles had disappeared, and Maggie sipped her coffee in satisfaction.
"Try not to let them get to you," Karen said quietly. "I think they're simply jealous. You’ve gone from the poorest teacher, to the richest, and they can’t stand it."
"They came from money and have family that's been able to keep them comfortable," Rosita said. "They're pissed they can't look down their noses at Daryl, or you, anymore."
"Not to mention they're flat out bitches," Carol said. "They were the meanest girls in school in their day, bullies, that never grew out of it. They never will."
She was grateful to gather her things and leave for the day. Beth called the school and left a message that Noah was going to pick her up from the university library later that evening, and Maggie wondered if their little spat was coming to a conclusion. She hoped so. While she didn't have an umbrella, she managed to wrap her hair in a scarf while she hurried toward her car and climbed in.
It started right up but the brakes felt soft. Maggie supposed it was normal considering Daryl had let the car sit and hardly drove it. She merged with traffic and blasted the heat. Her rotten day was still on her mind when a man darted out into the road ahead of her. The car took a second to slow to a stop. Fortunately, he was across the street before she could do any harm.

She made a mental note to tell Daryl the brake fluid was probably low. When she got home, though, she got lost in grading papers and forgot all about it.

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17 September 2017

A Marriage Chapter 6

In which Maggie and Daryl get married.
...
It had been a long time since Daryl Dixon had knots in his stomach, but he was twisted up inside now. He checked over the work his barber had just finished and nodded his approval. His hair was neatly trimmed, as was his beard and mustache. After leaving a tip, he went to the curb where Shane had parked the jeep he'd driven to pick Daryl up. There were still a few hours left before the official ceremony, so they'd decided to spend the morning working, despite it being Saturday.
"You look ready to vomit," Shane pointed out.
"Don't give my stomach any ideas," Daryl replied, sliding into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.
"Come on, now. You're not a blushing, virginal boy about to fuck for the first time," Shane reminded him.
"How would you feel if you had to marry and fuck Tara?" Daryl asked.
"Tara's gay," Rick pointed out, smiling.
"Yeah, but we watched her grow up," Daryl said tightly, getting agitated with Rick's amusement at his expense.
“Rick said he’d bet a year’s pay your asshole is so tight you couldn’t pull a hair through it,” Rick said, before laughing.
Daryl’s hands knotted into fists while he glared.
“Shane,” Daryl growled.
"Sorry," he said, finally taking the matter seriously.
"I tried to flirt with her over the phone, dead silence," Daryl said, shaking his head. "Not a word back from her. She didn't even tell me to shut the fuck up."
"Maybe she doesn't have a lot of experience with men and she wasn’t sure how to flirt back," said Shane, pulling into the parking lot of the SL headquarters where they could hear the wind blowing in powerful gusts.
"True," Daryl conceded. "Or maybe having me flirt was like having her uncle come on to her."
"She feel like a niece to you?"
Daryl leaned against the wind as they entered the building.
"No, but I'm not really attracted to her like that, if I’m honest," he answered. "She's not attracted to me, either. I can feel it."
"If you're worried about wedding night performance, remember that Maggie Greene's a beautiful young woman," Shane pointed out. "You'll feel plenty of attraction as soon as you get her naked."
"You sound like a pig," he informed Shane, with a lip curled in mild disgust. He was met with more amusement as he climbed from the jeep. Rick was also heading in, and Daryl slammed the Jeep door to hurry across the lot to catch up to him.
“You look panicked,” Rick noted, pushing the button on the elevator to their floor.
Daryl shrugged it off. Yeah, he was nervous, but he’d put up with enough teasing for one day. He wasn’t going to let Rick have a go, too. They stepped from the elevator and paused when he saw a gorgeous woman standing at the receptionist's area. He remembered an article about her on the Security League official website. She was a transfer from Kappa Settlement.
Some of Daryl's anxiety eased when he saw Rick run into the door to his office because his gaze had been glued to her instead of where he was going. The woman ignored him, but there was a slight smirk to her lips as she grabbed her briefcase and started toward Daryl.
"Major General Dixon," she said, saluting.
"Lieutenant Michonne Mason," he said, returning the salute and relieved he'd recalled her surname. He led her into his office, the walls of which were bare, and took a seat behind the great mahogany desk.
"You're a decorated officer but you choose not to display your accomplishments," she noted, looking around at the unadorned space.
"If you're about to psychoanalyze me, don't," Daryl warned, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "I've seen enough shrinks in my life."
"Not at all, Sir," she said, opening her suitcase and taking out some forms, which she laid out before him.
"What's this?"
"You're getting married, so we need to assign your old house to someone in the lower ranks. It's a two bedroom, so it'll likely go to a couple of young soldiers," she said. "We also need to add your new wife to your medical plan and update your will."
"How long will this take?"
"However long it takes you to read the forms," she said with a shrug. "I can leave them with you, or have your personal attorney look them over for you."
"Leave them," he said. "I'll have them back to you within a week."
"Congratulations on your nuptials," she said, closing her briefcase.
"Thanks."
Michonne headed for the door, but was stopped when Daryl spoke to her.
"His name is General Rick Grimes," Daryl said, smiling at her, and how her braids seemed to bounce with every step she took. "He's single."
"I'll keep that in mind, Sir," she said, before she closed the door with another smirk on her lips.
Just like that, all of Daryl's worries about marrying Maggie came flooding in on him once more.
"Did you see her?" Rick said, popping in a few minutes later, while Daryl was attempting to read his papers.
"I not only saw her, I spoke to her," Daryl said, putting the papers down, knowing Rick wasn't going to allow him to get anything accomplished, at least not where papers were concerned.
"She came in on a Saturday," Rick said. "She's dedicated."
"Or she doesn't have a life outside work," Daryl pointed out.
"You always gotta see something negative in somebody, don't you?" Rick complained, sitting down across from Daryl. "I haven't seen an ass like that on a woman since, well, ever."
Daryl was saved listening to Rick pontificate on Michonne's ass when his computer beeped.
"Rick with you?" Shane asked, once the video connection was established.
"Right here," Daryl said, and Rick got up to come stand behind Daryl.
"Just got some bad news," Shane said. "Blake's plans have him moving against Collins a lot sooner than we expected. I'm gonna need you to leave your new bride on Sunday night. Be here in time to help mobilize our defenses. Need you, too, Rick."
"We'll be there," Daryl said.
Shane nodded and the screen went blank. Rick looked down at Daryl.
"They say absence makes the heart grow fonder," Rick said.
"With all due respect, Sir," Daryl said, getting up and going to grab the suit he was going to wear for the ceremony, "fuck you."
Maggie Greene sat in front of the vanity in her parents' old room. She tried to think of it as hers, but couldn't quite get there. She remembered, quite clearly, watching her mother do her hair in her own vanity, which had been placed across the room as Maggie grew up, getting ready for church, or other social events. Now this was her room, and she was about to get married to a long-time family friend.
A family friend.
Maggie sighed and stared at her reflection. The house smelled of the steaks Patricia was cooking; t-bones, which were both Daryl and Maggie's favorites. The steaks were complimented with the scent of sweet potatoes, as well. Though there hadn't been drinking in the house since Maggie could remember, she'd seen her mother setting several bottles of wine on the table before she'd come to get her hair styled.
Rick's voice carried from the living room, where he sat speaking with Daryl in a lighthearted tone, but Daryl's voice sounded tense. They teased Beth and Noah about getting married someday, and Maggie noted there wasn't a peep of protest from Noah, lest he say something to offend a superior officer. Her mother brushed her hair while Rosita applied a very light coat of makeup to her face.
"You scared?" Rosita asked, finishing up.
"No, why?" Maggie asked.
"You look pale," her mother noted.
"My summer tan's worn off," she joked.
"You know what I mean," Rosita said, clucking her tongue.
"Ok, yes, I'm nervous," Maggie admitted.
Her stomach had bats, not butterflies, and she sat there feeling as though she was being forced to walk the plank with a canon ball chained to her ankle. As much as she tried to be brave, now that the actual day had come, she was scared. She was about to get married and change her last name, which was big part of her identity, not to mention share her body with someone she barely knew.
"Rosita, sweetie, will you give us a minute?" Josephine asked.
"Sure, Miss Jo," said Rosita. "I'll help Patricia in the kitchen. Then I'll get dressed. We're on in an hour."
"Reverend Douglas is here," Beth said, popping her head in. She was dressed in a lavender dress and had put on some makeup. She looked lovely, fresh, happy and carefree. For a moment, Maggie felt a stab of resentment. She quickly squashed it and smiled back.
"Thanks, Beth," Maggie said. "We won't be long."
Once her sister was gone, Maggie turned to her mother.
"Well," Josephine said, sitting on the edge of the new bed Daryl had bought for him and Maggie. "I know we don't need to have the sex talk, because I figure you're not a virgin."
"I'm not afraid of the sex," Maggie said, grimacing. "Not really. It's changing my name, being his wife…maybe even having his children."
"What's so scary?" Josephine asked. "You'll cook dinner and press his uniforms."
Maggie tried to smile but couldn't.
"I keep seeing Beth with Noah," she said, after a long pause. "They're happy and in love and I keep thinking how I'll never have that. I think about how you were with Daddy, and I know that'll never be Daryl and me."
"You're right, then," Josephine said. "That'll never be you and Daryl if you've made up your mind you ain't allowed to love him."
"What do you mean, ain't allowed?"
Josephine took a deep breath and fidgeted with the hem of her apron while she gathered her thoughts.
"You're not marrying the man you love but that doesn't mean you can't fall in love with the man you're marrying," Josephine finally said. "Give him a chance, Maggie. Open your heart. I think he's a perfect match for you, to be honest. Every time I turn around you're telling me the two of you have something in common."
"We're becoming friends but that's all," Maggie said, trying to make her mother get it, see it from her point of view.
"A woman's husband should be her best friend, just as a man's wife should be his," Josephine explained. "Friendship, not infatuation, should be the bedrock of a marriage. You and Daryl have that. If you start to feel something for him, don't fight it. Nurture it. One day you may realize you fooled around and fell in love with your husband."
Maggie chuckled, and took her mother's hand.
"Make him happy," Josephine continued. "Let him make you happy. Drop all these nonsense notions that your courtship and marriage has to be a fairytale trope. You ain't Snow White and he ain't Prince Charming, and you don't have to be to make a good marriage. Now come on. Let's get you into that dress."
The living room furniture had been rearranged to make room for the ceremony. Reverend Douglas stood in front of the windows facing the drive, where wind and rain were driving in hard. They rattled from a crack of thunder and Maggie tried not to see the weather as a bad omen for the relationship she and Daryl were going to have.
Rick stood beside Daryl, while Beth stood with Maggie. She realized she was holding Daryl's hands too tight, but he didn't complain. He just looked at her before he leaned in and whispered that everything was going to be okay. That simple assurance shouldn't have been enough to allay the fears she had, but somehow it was.
Standing there, holding Daryl's slightly calloused hands, Maggie could remember the young man her father had brought into their family when she was a child. She remembered how angry his eyes used to be, how fearful he was. That was what had struck her most about Daryl when she'd first met him. He'd been so afraid of everything. Her father would laugh, Daryl would start. Her mother dropped a cup, he'd dodge back, throwing his hands up as though to ward off a blow.
When he looked at her, however, she'd see that anger soften, and that fear subside. He'd always smile at her, when he wouldn't smile at anyone else. He'd taught her how to hook a worm when her mother didn't want her to learn. He showed her how to climb a tree, and skip rocks across the water. He'd tuck her in at night and tell her stories. She remembered how choppy his reading had been at first, but over time, he'd gotten better at it, and he'd do an amazing job of embellishing the stories from the books, making them better.
"You made Snow White the gangster leader of a drug dealing gang," she said, lost in the memory.
Daryl frowned while Maggie giggled.
"What?" he asked.
"Don't you remember?" she said. "You used to change the stories and make them better. You made Snow White a gangster."
Daryl's usually stoic face cracked a smile.
"Yeah, I do now," he said.
Theodore Douglas politely cleared his throat.
"You ready to begin?" he asked.
"I'm ready," Maggie said, nodding up at Daryl, and as the reverend began to read from his bible. Maggie realized, as she stood there holding his hands, repeating the vows, that she really was ready.
You can love the man you're marrying
Maggie was far from being in love with Daryl, but she was closer than she'd been the day before. She loved him already, in her way, in the way she'd love any friend, but she'd be a liar if she tried to deny that what she felt now was something a bit deeper than mere friendship. Maybe it was the atmosphere, looking into his eyes, feeling his hands hold hers, so firm and steady, and warm, the idea that she could fall for him someday didn't seem so impossible now.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," Reverend Douglas said. "You may kiss your bride."
Maggie could see Beth and Patricia tense. She couldn't blame them. Every time she and Daryl had attempted even a small peck to the cheek it hadn't gone well. This time she smiled at him and nodded. This time there was no awkwardness when she turned her head slightly right and he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft, warm, and pleasant. He managed a light smile when they turned to the intimate gathering of their friends and family.
"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends," Reverend Douglas announced, "I give you Mr. and Mrs. Daryl Dixon."
The food was some of Patricia's best cooking yet. They ate dinner, with Daryl at the head of the table, and Maggie across from him, taking up the positions that had once been Hershel and Josephine's. Maggie was aware of her mother now sitting to her right, speaking across the table to Reverend Douglas, and how Beth had hurried to grab the chair next to Daryl to grill him with questions on his missions. It also didn't escape Maggie that Noah seemed a tad bit sullen as he watched Beth all but interrogate Daryl, giving him all her attention.
Rosita flirted with Rick, who clearly enjoyed it. Patricia and Otis carried their own conversation, sitting across from one another. He complimented her cooking. She complimented his suit. They had easy conversation, remembering their own wedding, and the good times in the intervening years.
The food was good, the wine was too, but Maggie ate very little. She didn't want to spend the evening too full. Daryl's eyes occasionally met hers, and they'd share a smile or two. Dinner was left behind in favor of coffee in the living room, though Rosita had to bow out early. A cranky Noah offered her a lift home so she wouldn't have to bike in the rain. Patricia insisted Josephine and Beth join the newlyweds while she and Otis cleared away the dishes. Maggie enjoyed getting to know Rick, even if the conversation was shallow, but all the while she was aware of the clock ticking away the hours to bedtime.
At nine o'clock, which was Maggie's usual bedtime anyway, Daryl stood, giving everyone the signal that the party was over. Rick drank a bit too much, and Otis offered to get the guest room ready for him. Daryl took Rick outside for a smoke and some cold air to clear his head.
Maggie tried to not feel any embarrassment when the door was closed to the good reverend, and everyone wished her and Daryl goodnight. Having everyone know what was going to be going on in her bedroom that night made her face burn, and Beth's knowing smirk didn't help, either. She avoided making eye contact with anyone else and headed off to her room, grateful they were on the first floor, at the front of the house, away from everyone else just in case sound carried. Not that she planned on making a lot of noise, but Karen's words about Daryl's tongue skills came rushing back to her.
Daryl was outside saying something to Rick. She heard their voices but couldn't make out their words. Rather than trying to eavesdrop, Maggie went about the business of getting ready for bed. One of Carol's gifts to her had been a very pretty negligee. It was white, sheer, with lace trim. She took a few moments to lotion her legs and feet; anything to kill the time.
The front door finally shut. Maggie listened to Rick head upstairs to the guest room before Daryl came into the room. He'd given her fifteen minutes to get ready, she was sure that's what held him up, and she wished she had fifteen minutes more. He went into the bathroom where she listened to him brushing his teeth.
She was accosted by memories of a guy she'd once dated named Gary. He'd been a sweet guy, a good friend, but not someone who turned her on, and she'd hated the sex. It had always been uncomfortable, simply because she couldn't get aroused by a guy who was her good friend. She'd known the whole time she'd been with him she shouldn't have dated him. The spark wasn't there. Was that what her sex life with Daryl was going to be? Or would they turn out to have something better?
Just do your duty, Maggie scolded herself.
Maggie stood beside the bed, taking extra pillows down but glanced over to see Daryl came out of the bathroom. He went to the dresser to take off his cufflinks, his eyes going to her once. He took in the negligee and his eyes lingered, moving over her slowly from her head to her toes. He'd never seen so much of her before. She worked to turn the covers down before she climbed in, resisting the urge to pull them up to her chin and pretend she had a headache, or was too tired. She couldn't have done so anyway. The law said a marriage wasn't real unless it was consummated before midnight of the same day of the ceremony. They had just over two hours, and Maggie was determined to do this right.
It wasn't until she was on the bed she noticed the champagne resting on ice on his bedside table. It looked pricy, not that she'd know, since she had never actually had any, but the label was fancy.
Daryl pulled his shoes and socks off and put them away. He shrugged off his jacket, hung it up, and then undid his belt. Slowly, methodically, he removed one article of clothing after another under Maggie's steady gaze. His back was laced with scars that made her wonder what kind of battles he'd seen to sustain them, and why were they only on his back? She'd never seen him shirtless when he'd lived with them, so this was the first glance she had of his back.
He seemed so calm, so unhurried and unconcerned, as though this night, and what was about to happen between them, didn't faze him in the least. Perhaps he it was an act. Perhaps he was scared half to death, like her, but better at hiding his anxiety as he undressed. He didn't pull off the silky black boxers he wore underneath. Maggie liked them. She looked at his toned body, broad shoulders, and muscles arms, his handsome face. As far as men went, she could've been saddled with someone uglier, meaner, but she wasn't. She was glad for that.
"You like champagne?" he asked, coming over to his side of the bed.
"I don't know, I've never had it," she said.
"It's pretty good," he told her. "It's made for celebrations. I'd say tonight is a good reason to have some."
He poured two flutes and handed one to Maggie before he climbed in. The bed didn't creak, thank God, when it took his weight. He held up his glass.
"To a good marriage," he proposed.
"To a good marriage," she agreed.
They clinked glasses, and Maggie sipped the drink. She was surprised by how fruity and bubbly, and sweet, it was.
"You like it?" he asked, a touch of a smile at the corners of his lips.
"I thought it would be bitter," she confessed.
"I got something sweet," he said. "I like sweet things."
The words were suggestive, but his tone was neutral. She couldn't blame him after what happened the last time he'd tried flirting. She considered saying something suggestive back, but her mind drew a blank. She took another sip, then another. He watched her drain her flute.
"More?" he asked. "It'll help you relax."
She let him pour another, even though she could already feel the alcohol in her system, especially from the wine they'd had earlier.
"You ever get nervous?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, nodding, "but learned not to show fear the hard way."
"Training?"
"My father," he answered, shaking his head. "My brother, to a lesser degree."
"Your father did that to your back?"
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe not, but Maggie felt the knot of anxiety in her belly loosen and then slowly vanish. Daryl seemed a lot more human, relatable, somehow, even though her father had never hit her a day in her life.
"Yeah. He wasn't a good man."
"What happened to him?" she asked.
"Liver failure," he said. "I wasn't sorry to see him go, being honest."
She had so many questions about his youth but she didn't ask. This was a depressing subject and she didn't want to think about it, and she doubted he did either. Besides, after drinking a few more sips she felt mellow. She watched his profile when he drank, and remembered Karen saying he had a magical tongue, but there was no way she could ask him to prove that.
Instead of talking she lay back on the bed and switched her lamp out. The negligee had ridden up high on her thighs. Daryl's eyes slid over her before he took a deep breath and exhaled, as though determined to complete a difficult task. Maybe it was hard for him, being with her. She'd not really considered it from his point of view. He drained his flute and set it down. The time for drink and talk was over. They had a duty to perform.
"You're beautiful, Maggie," he said. He leaned on one arm and gazed down at her.
"You're not so bad yourself," she told him.
She could feel her heart hammering, for the wrong reasons, when he stroked a finger down her chest. He cupped one of her breasts and thumbed her nipple. Maggie was relieved when it perked up under his ministrations. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd be able to moisten at his touch.
"I got this for us," he said, and reached into the bedside table to produce a small bottle of lubricant. It was like he could read her mind, and knew her every concern.
Maggie watched Daryl run his hand down her body, felt his fingertips graze her flesh, before he brought his hand up and under her gown, to lightly stroke her belly.
"I don't wanna hurt you," he said softly. "We only need to do this tonight to make it legal."
"I know," she said. "I'm okay."
Her tummy quivered under his touch. He knew it wasn't from anticipation. Without her asking, Daryl applied the lubricant to her folds. She stroked the nape of his neck and tugged him down into their first real kiss. She opened her lips, let him explore her, even as she opened her thighs, one of which grazed his manhood. His breath hitched, and she pulled him closer, kissed him with more eagerness. When he moaned at the feel of her leg against his hardness, Maggie felt herself finally respond.
This night wasn't just about her. It wasn't about the farm; it wasn't making a male heir. It wasn't about duty. It was about Daryl, too. It was about the good man who'd come from a shitty, abusive family but overcame. It was about this good man who'd been alone too long, and desperately wanted a family.
She kissed him with genuine fervor now, felt her heart begin to pound for the right reasons. Her hands pulled him close, she invited him to rest between her thighs. She pushed his boxers out of the way and kissed along his jaw until her lips whispered in his ear: Yes. He took the time to pull the negligee off before resting her back into the pillows. His body was flush against hers, now, and she felt heat pool between her thighs.
It was easy to take Daryl inside. She was wet from more than artificial lube, now. Her hips lifted to meet every thrust. She gripped his ass, ran her hands up his scarred back, and felt tension mount inside. There was a knot inside her again, only this one felt good. Every time he thrust into her it tightened a little more. It was only a matter of time.
She held his face, locked her gaze with his, unaware she'd started to moan. Her whole body was slick with sweat, and she could feel herself getting closer...closer...until it happened. The tension uncoiled, released, and her body fluttered around him just as he arched his back and came with a plaintive cry that he muted between her shoulder and the pillow.
He pulled out of her and laid back. Maggie stared at the ceiling and wondered if it was a fluke, a one-time thing, or if they could be a couple with a satisfying sex life, at least. She felt the last ripples of her orgasm fade before she looked at him.
Maybe her mother was right. She wasn't in love with Daryl Dixon, but maybe, someday, she could be.