justjessame

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 24

Negan was waiting for me when I left my room the next morning. I guess he didn’t have much choice since I heard the shuffling of a guard outside the front door, and I wasn’t certain he came into the Commonwealth in the usual way.

“Morning,” I offered, sidestepping him and going to the kitchen for something to calm down the little invaders inside of me that seemed incapable of staying still now that their biological sperm donor was present. “Do you want something to eat?” I was speaking as normally as I would if Daryl or Max was visiting. I knew from experience that the guards couldn’t hear me or anyone who was inside with me if I kept calm and my voice didn’t rise too loud.

“Breakfast?” I shrugged, going to the cupboard to grab some fruit. Eggs or normal breakfast food wasn’t something the babies seemed to want, but the fresh offerings made them lay silent for a tiny bit. “Tell me where I can find -” I pointed out where I kept foods I thought he might prefer, taking a glass of cool water and my own preferences to the table.

He looked at ease in my kitchen. His long arms, and huge ass hands were more graceful than my own as he took out what he wanted. When he let out a moan that I had heard during the times that got me in my current predicament I shifted in my seat. Damn him.

“I could get used to this,” he turned with a plate filled with enough food to make me wonder if he and Annie were in a better state than the one he left behind in Alexandria. “You gonna eat?”

Fuck, I’d completely forgotten my own food while I watched him gather his. Taking a drink from my glass, I slowly worked through my own smaller plate of fruit. He’d joined me at the table, and of course he chose the seat closest to me, rather than the one across from me. “Do you need help getting out?” He was chewing a huge forkful of food, so I waited for his answer to come once he swallowed, but instead he shook his head.

“No,” he finally managed to swallow down his chunk of goodness, looking for all the world like the Negan I’d met in the forest. A dangerous memory if there ever was one. “I guess you thought I came in all sneaky and shit.” Well, actually - “I got in just like you did.”

That was a reminder I really didn’t want. And I guess it showed on my face.

“Right,” instead of looking all that surprised, he looked like he’d forgotten something that he knew beforehand. “Carol mentioned that you’re related to the leader here - Milton, right?” Shit. Something I hadn’t told him, I guess he scored a point there. “Never took you for American Royalty, Elara.”

“I’m not,” his dimples were peeking at me and the babies seemed to perk up at their appearance, which made not a single fucking shred of sense since they couldn’t SEE him. Urging them to calm down silently, I tried to pick up my indignation at the reminder of who my parents worked so hard to keep me from being. “My last name is Mallick, it was my mother’s surname and my parents wanted me to have it, rather than my father’s.” He was focused on me even while he continued to eat through his food. “My grandfather’s choice to pursue politics all the way to the highest in the land wasn’t something that my parents felt should change our lives - unlike our extended family.” Pam, my uncle, Sebastian, my grandmother - they all gloried in the entitlements that seemed contingent on Grandpa’s status.

“Like Pamela?” My silence met his question and his grin grew. “You’re not fond of her, Elara, even if you won’t answer, your lips are so thin they’ve disappeared.” Shit. “So she used Papa’s past life to get her to the top here,” he sat back and studied me. “And you?”

“Me what?” He looked around my little cottage and I felt a twinge of irritation at his assessment. “I happen to work here,” his eyebrow went up again and I glared back. “Not in the house, I work at the school and the library, asshole.” The smile was growing at my irritation and I wanted to toss my fork at his head. “Actually, I guess this place is a lot like the one you ran - what was it called again?”

“The Sanctuary,” his grin had diminished, but wasn’t completely gone, even if he looked a little more somber at the reminder of his own grim past. “And look how peachy that shit turned out.” Damn it, he was right. “This place isn’t gonna last like it is, and you know it.” Fuck, he was right - including about my knowledge. “Is it really safe for you and -” his eyes went to the curve that rose above the table top.

“We have real doctors, real medication here.” I was thinking of Tomi and the equipment he kept promising would make my multiple births safe - or safer than I would be somewhere like Alexandria or alone in the fucking woods. “Maybe you should bring Annie in and let them make certain she and the baby are -” he was studying me like he wasn’t sure if I was as calm about his wife and unborn baby being so close as I seemed. “It would be terrible if you lost another wife, Negan.”

He was on his knees beside me before I knew it. “I’d hate to lose you again,” oh shit. His hand looked less steady than it had when he was grabbing breakfast as it reached out to cradle the top of the bump housing his offspring. “Or them,” guess he figured me all out, but honestly I was almost as big as my house - and like he said, none of the math worked out. And the traitors I was currently keeping warm and safe inside of me had the audacity to move, letting him feel each one of them, and confirming that there was clearly more than one inside. “Strong aren’t they?” His hand was moving to capture every kick and roll, smiling as he felt them welcoming him into their lives - even if I was less sure about what he wanted.

“They are,” my hand met his, but instead of sharing the moment, I did something that gave me more pain than I’d ever admit. I carefully removed his hand from me, squeezing it to hopefully lessen the blow, but putting up a boundary now - so he understood that he had a place and it wasn’t beside me or them. “And I’m sure that your baby with Annie is as well.”

He was right, he didn’t have to fear walking out of my house, even if the guards shot me a look that made me want to scream. Judgment was evident even while they were wearing those ridiculous helmets.

He went his own way as soon as I was within sight of the school and I felt a twinge, but I pushed it down. Negan was someone else’s, and they were making a family together. There wasn’t a place at his side and there was no one to blame but myself.

I only hoped that I would hear some news about Daryl - that he was safe, that he was close, that he was returning.

#alternate universe #the walking dead #negan x ofc #daryl dixon x ofc #unexpected pregnancy

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 23

It came like a wrecking ball. I was lucky to be locked in tight at my little cottage, but I could hear it - that rage that seemed to flood the streets, the answering violence ordered from someone I shared blood with, and I felt a gratitude toward whomever had designed my humble abode as I looked outside to the fog created by a gas used to deter dissenters.

The pounding on my door shook the windows and I feared them breaking and releasing more of the gas than simply opening the door a crack to see what the hell was happening might do. The crack was breached, a dark mass shoving inside and then the door slammed shut again, as a voice that I felt confident I was imagining ordered me to move away.

“Get the fuck back,” he growled, shooing me with his hands when I seemed rooted to the spot. “Do you want to inhale that shit?”

Right, gas and I was, fuck. I beat a hasty retreat to the furthest part of the room, tempted to dash into my bedroom and lock that fucking door behind me, just in case.

“Christ, I think they’re trying to fucking kill everyone,” he was muttering, a cough breaking through as he leaned his forehead against the door and took a breath. “Do you have some water or something,” he was weezing enough to make my feet move toward the kitchen.

My tension was growing as I filled a glass with water, tiny feet and hands were pushing at me from within - as if they knew the donor of their baby batter was close at hand. Damn it, I took a breath, hoping to steady myself and keep any nausea at bay.

“Guess you didn’t expect to see me,” fuck, he was behind me. “Or maybe you didn’t want to see me again.” There was a twinge of something in his voice that made me wonder - curiosity be damned, I turned and there he was. Negan.

Holding out the glass, I swallowed down a lump that formed in my throat. His fingers, those long ass fingers of his, couldn’t help touching my hand as he took it. Silence descended as he drank, but his eyes were ever watchful, and they widened slightly as they took in my obvious growth. I prayed he was sipping slowly, but the glass was empty before the prayer was finished.

I couldn’t let him keep talking - he’d never stop. “I’m surprised you’re here.” Obvious, clearly. “I’m glad you’re alive.” Lame. Very lame.

A smirk played on his lips and then I saw a flash of metal as he sat the glass on my table. A ring. A simple band and I stepped back. The smirk left as quickly as it began and his gaze followed mine. “Shit.” Right, guess it’s hard to be heavy handed with a feeling of abandonment when you clearly moved on - quickly and with a definite edge of commitment. “Elara, when I went back and you were -”

My eyes left the band and found his face. Shaking my head, I sighed. “You moved on,” again obvious. “So did I.” My hand found the heavy curve that made reaching into the sink more acrobatic than ever before. “Clearly.”

He was shaking his head like he thought I was so full of shit my eyes should be brown. “The math doesn’t work,” I was planning on asking if he’d become an MD during or after his wedding ceremony, but Negan doesn’t stop once his mouth opens. “You’re bigger than -” and then I knew. I wasn’t the only baby mama he had in the process of adding to his family tree.

“I’m sure I am,” I knew what had happened with Lucille, so I knew that this new version of himself wasn’t a cheater. Which meant his new Mrs. wasn’t likely to be nearly as unwieldy as I was. “Since you have a family to prepare for,” his eyes landed on the part that was currently housed by my sorry ass, but that wasn’t what I meant. “I guess you’ll understand that I moved on too.” Shit, I was moving on with Daryl. Daryl who had tied him up and held him at crossbow point when we first met. He was waiting. On me to tell him all about the wonderful man I was moving on with while I was trying to think of a way to make him less likely to raise hell about my choice. I chose the bandaid rip version. Over and done, hurts less - right?

“Daryl.” He blinked at me and I wondered if he was having more of an adverse reaction to the gas than just weezing. “Daryl.” Shaking his head, I was contemplating asking if he needed to take a seat, but he coughed out a laugh. “Of all the fucking men left in this shitty world, you pick Daryl who might be allergic to fucking water?”

My eyes were narrowing as he spoke, how fucking dare he? “Oh we want to discuss how shitty my taste in men is? How about yours, oh manly man of the huge cock kingdom?” He was staring at me like he’d never seen me before. Good. “The first time I saw you, you were sucking up to a woman who wore people skin,” my glare grew at the mere thought of Alpha. “Dead people skin.” And he’d played hide the salami with her at least once. “You fucking wore it too, like it was a goddamn honor, if I recall.” His own glare was starting to come out and his mouth opened like he was going to argue, but I was on a roll. “You’re so high and fucking mighty, then why the hell can’t you let go of shit?” From glare to huge, those eyes of his were getting a workout. “I mean, we were practically exiled from a group that I didn’t even fucking want to be a part of because you killed people with a fucking bat named after your dead fucking wife who you cheated on while she had cancer!” His mouth was working, but I was nowhere near done. “You have the audacity to say that Daryl might be allergic to water? I can still smell Alpha. Maggie wants your head on a pike ala the Whisperers. Carol used you to do her bidding and then was fine with letting you fend for your fucking self - and me too. But I have shitty taste in men.” I eyed him up and down as my arms crossed over my ample chest. “One man, maybe.”

“You left.” He bit out the words like he could cut me with them. “I went back for you, and Carol comes to that fucking cabin and tells me you just fucking cut and run after I -”

“After you marched off to what I could only imagine was your fucking death march.” I shook my head and almost pitied him. Almost. “Maggie wanted you dead, probably still does, but it never got through that thick fucking skull of yours that I might want you alive. Redemption meant more to you than that.” I was exhausted. “Look, sleep on the sofa or go when the fucking gas clears, but I’m done here.”

“I’m not,” he took a few steps and was blocking my path out. “I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. I didn’t know where the fuck to start looking for you. You were gone. Just fucking gone and I was -” huffing out a sigh, he let his fingers trace my face. “I would have looked forever,” I started to pull away, but his hand cupped my chin and wouldn’t let me. “I would have, but then I started to question whether you would want me to. Did you even give a shit after all?” The pain I thought I heard before was apparent now. “Annie,” he said her name like it was a beacon, and I guess she was that for him. “I didn’t look for her, or want her, Elara. Not when I worried about where you were, if you were hurt or worse.” But it happened, that’s what he didn’t have to say. “If I knew -”

“And you do,” I stepped back, far enough that his hand had to drop. “Now you know I’m fine. And I’ll be fine when you and Annie ride off into whatever version of the sunset you choose.”

I left him in my kitchen, alone and went to my bedroom. I closed the door, but I didn’t lock it. I knew I didn’t have to fear Negan. And I knew he wouldn’t breach the doorway. Not now that we both had different paths.

#alternate universe #the walking dead #negan x ofc #unexpected pregnancy #daryl dixon x ofc

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 22

Silence was once my very best and most constant companion. It kept me safe and it allowed me to observe, but not interact.

Then Negan came shouting along and that all changed. Somehow after meeting him my life shifted so far that now I not only was part and parcel in a community that was strangely enough led by my own family member, but silence had become my enemy.

It wasn’t the secrets that bothered me. Everyone has had a secret. It wasn’t the feeling that I was left out of a loop, an important loop either. It wasn’t a fear of the silent corruption that I knew had to be going on all around me.

No, the silence that I hated most of all came from the unknown. The silence that met me when Daryl didn’t return and no one seemed capable of telling me a damn thing about where he’d truly gone or why he wasn’t back.

Silence was suddenly such a piece of shit that my own urge to scream and bleat like a certain someone was growing exponentially by the hour.

It made work almost unbearable. Every moment that I spent in my office at the school had my head shooting up at the slightest sound - hopeful that it was some type of news about Daryl and where he might be. The library was no better. I couldn’t lead the reading group, or focus on questions about books or topics. I was preoccupied, so clearly that I got unnerved by the number of times I was asked if I was alright.

No, I thought to myself, I was far from alright.

If there was anything worse than the silence, as though I dared it into existence, it was what came next.

I noticed the changes within the walls of the Commonwealth slowly. I was distracted, I guess, but it irked me when I realized that people were disappearing. Children of people I knew had come from Alexandria and their allies weren’t in class, but I quickly doused any worries that were mentioned by my teachers. Less attention, I felt, would be far better than the wrong type.

The mutterings, dissent was growing against my darling aunt and cousin, something I could understand but fear that it would pour over onto me crept in. Since the mutterings weren’t silenced in my presence, and in fact a few of those doing the murmuring included me in their confidences, I was able to tamp down the worry that I’d be lumped in with the Miltons.

I had stopped going to family dinners, not only because my condition’s tendency toward disgusting action if dessert was even mentioned, but because the idea of sitting in a condoning silence with people that I felt less kinship toward than those that I’d found along my path was repugnant.

Pam left me to my own diversions - while she seemed incapable of understanding that Sebastian wasn’t going to ever live up to the goal she had for him. And I knew that goal thanks to Max.

The very promise of allowing Sebastian to lead anything other than his own bullshit agenda was enough to make a dash to the nearest empty receptacle necessary, something Max felt terrible about, but she was worried. As everyone with an ounce of sanity should have been.

The rage, simmering below every surface within the supposedly safe walls surrounding us, was bound to boil over. And when it did, well let’s just say I kind of wished for silence again.

#alternate universe #the walking dead #negan x ofc #daryl dixon x ofc

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 21

Slow and steady - two words that perfectly summed up Daryl Dixon and our situation. Calling it a relationship seemed a touch presumptuous since we weren’t exactly loading on the physical demonstrations like I had with, feeling the babies perform gymnastics inside of me at the very thought of the man who helped create them didn’t actually give me my normal twist of nausea for which I was grateful.

“You look deep in thought,” Max’s voice drew me from where my mind was drifting while my hand idly soothed the tiny terrors housed within me. Smiling at the woman who was becoming a friend in spite of her role in Pam’s administration, her own smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes. Damn it.

“And you look like you’re here to tell me something to draw me away from my pleasant daydreaming,” there was no heat in my voice, not when I’d come to realize that living under the rule of my aunt meant that this was my new normal.

She told me, once she shut the door behind her and had taken a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, and I listened with growing dread. Not only had she tested Pam’s generosity and found it lacking - something I think I could have warned her about had she simply asked - but she snooped and might have been caught by my less than moral cousin. Great. But then she ended her tale by asking me to come to a clandestine meeting with her and some like minded others, all with the purpose of learning precisely what she’d managed to dig up about the family my parents had felt strongly against giving me the name of - Awesome.

I agreed, but the agreement didn’t bring me serenity. Instead I felt the dread creeping in, grabbing hold, and hanging tight.

Daryl, Judith, and RJ join me for dinner - a rarity, since usually he comes later, when Carol keeps an eye on them while they’re down for the night. He helps me in the kitchen while they explore my house, playing hide and seek and enjoying the novelty of a new place. I’d grabbed books and some games that I had on hand at the library, just in case they needed more diversion.

“I have to go on an assignment tomorrow,” we’re side by side, working on chopping and cleaning vegetables and ingredients for dinner as he tells me that I won’t see him on duty. Before I can ask him who set the new schedule, he offers the name and a chill creeps up my spine. “Hornsby thinks we should scout some houses,” I know he’s noticed how still I’ve gone because his hand touches mine and my hand turns, our palms meeting and fingers linking. “I’ll be fine.”

Dinner goes smoothly after he calms my fears, fears that I know he has a twinge of as well. It seems too pat, that he’s being tasked with this new duty and he’s partnered with Aaron, Gabriel, and a third unknown guard. Two people who are - in the Commonwealth status chain - civilians and one who is barely out of training. Before he takes the kids home, and spends the night with them, he hugs me to him - breathing in the scent of my hair and kissing my head.

“If something goes wrong,” he murmurs and the fear shivers through me again. “Listen, Elara,” and I am, with every fiber of my being. “If something goes wrong, keep an eye on them -” and I know, without a shadow of a doubt he doesn’t just mean the kids. He means his whole family - every member who came to the Commonwealth who he feels attached to and I agree, because while Daryl is one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, I know from my own past that the strongest people are the ones with the deepest reserves for pain and suffering - and I’ll do what I can to keep that from him.

“Kiss her goodnight,” I’d forgotten we had a small audience and had to chuckle at Judith’s none to subtle hint that he wasn’t giving me a proper good-bye.

Pulling back, he shot her a look and I knew that she had not a hint of shame rise up from it, “I think you were given a bit of an order,” his gaze landed back on me and I felt a new type of shiver and it wasn’t tinged with any darkness.

“Guess so,” and then his lips met mine and I was surprised by how soft they were - seeing one another and not being physical made sense given my current predicament - and then I stopped thinking and just let myself enjoy the feeling. It wasn’t a long lingering kiss, after all we had impressionable little eyes locked on the scene we were the main players in, but I felt a shift when we parted.

Soft goodnights, and then the three of them left and my smile couldn’t seem to leave my face.

Since I’d had help cleaning up after dinner, I took my time getting ready for bed. A long shower, since bathing without help in and out of the bathtub was something of a battle, and then I made sure to braid my hair before sliding into my bed.

I wasn’t terribly tired, which gave my mind time to wander - and it chose to compare the two men who I’d had the pleasure of getting to know since our world went to shit and back again.

Negan was a hurricane - loud, insistent, and left a wake of wreckage in his path - not necessarily all bad wreckage, I thought as my hand smoothed down the curve that was ever growing proof of how not bad he could be.

Daryl was quiet and watchful. He crept up on you while taking in every single detail he could. While I’d seen him face off against Negan and others, even then he wasn’t a raging storm, but rather a calm sort of strength.

Both men were definitely strong and powerful. Both had the ability to show their power and strength in decisive ways - I’d seen Negan part Alpha from her head without a flinch and I’d watched Daryl take down enemies as swift as one of his arrows could be notched.

How strange that I couldn’t seem to find a single man in the time before everything turned upside down, but now that it had - I’d found two. Even if I’d lost one, or left one, depending on how I looked at it. It was so odd, but then again, I never claimed to be normal.

#alternate universe #the walking dead #negan x ofc #daryl dixon x ofc

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 20

You’d think that once I learned about the interest Hornsby was pushing on Pamela and knowing that she had gone off with him - and troops that included Daryl - and my attempts to give Rosita a head’s up would be the end to my good samaritan antics.

If not for the sudden influx of new citizens coming from Hilltop - where I learned Maggie was currently acting as leader - and the other two (Alexandria and Oceanside), I probably would have tapped out of the entire conversation. It just seemed odd that so many people would abandon what they knew, places that had grown into not only communities, but families for something so unknown. And not only that, but the smug look that Lance, as he offered to allow me to call him, had plastered on his face with every new arrival made me more interested in the real question - why? What precisely did these new people add to his minion placement?

Dinner with Pam, without Sebastian since he was off doing something I truly didn’t care to know about, gave me more insight and I tried desperately to keep any obvious emotion free from my entire being when I found out.

“I doubt it will happen,” she was saying, when I casually mentioned that we had so many new faces showing up at both the library and the school. “But if Lance can manage to enlist those communities into a -” she managed to make it seem almost reasonable. Tit for tat, help from the Commonwealth, resource sharing, and the communities would be almost like life before - travel and everything. “I have a feeling he’s angling to govern them, if they agree, which I have my doubts about.”

Murmuring my agreement, I let my mind wander. So Hornsby wanted to have his own dominion, even if it was under the Milton umbrella - that made sense of his swagger as each new citizen arrived from one of the three. I almost missed Pam telling me about their trip - and how Maggie had flat out denied them. “I mean, really, of course there’s always a cost, but isn’t that better than starving?”

She didn’t actually need me to do more than nod, which was fine with me - I could half listen and still gather information while I digested what I’d already learned.

I could hear the sermon at the church as I walked past - the library was closed, but that only meant that I could work there without interruptions. Something was soothing about the flow that came out of the chapel, something that drew me closer, my guards’ shuffling told me they weren’t prepared for my change anymore than I was - but I wanted to listen to what was being said.

Opening the door as quietly as I could, I slipped in and took a seat at the very back. I knew the man ministering, he’d been in Alexandria and he was close with Rosita - closer than I expected from a man of the cloth, since they weren’t married by any standards, but I wasn’t judging.

Father Gabriel, I remembered as he urged us to open up to one another, to be close and share. He was compelling, but quiet, not a firebrand and for that I was grateful. I listened and looked around me at the other parishioners, all listening with intensity as he spoke.

I didn’t leave until the sermon was over, waiting while the others filed out - since it took me longer to waddle than it did for them to depart. Gabriel was in front of me, offering me a hand before I could use the seat back before me to help me to my feet.

“I haven’t seen your face in the church since I started,” his voice was still quiet, oddly soothing as he drew me up so I was standing. “I hope you found what you were looking for today.”

Nodding, I told him that it had been peaceful. “They,” my hand fell to the curve of my stomach. “Prefer peacefulness.” His smile grew as he took in how large I’d grown.

“I remember when Rosita was pregnant with Coco,” his good eye twinkled. “Even when she grumbled, she glowed.” The memory was pleasant, and I couldn’t help smiling with him. “You’re glowing too, you know?”

“With a greenish tinge,” he chuckled and shook his head. “I’m well aware that I get pale and green along with whatever glow I manage.”

“If only he could see you now,” his teeth flashed as he considered Negan’s reaction to my current predicament. “I won’t attempt an impression of him, I doubt even these walls would protect me from the wrath of all the blasphemy.”

Shaking my head, I made my way to the door I’d come in from. “A safe bet, Father.” And after giving my goodbyes, I met my guards and went on with my plan for the day.

Things quieted down for a while - a week or two, give or take and things were almost back to the normality of the Commonwealth.

I went about my daily responsibilities, both at the library and the school - almost forgetting about Hornsby’s plotting where my former cohabitants were concerned. Pam thought he’d fail, so why worry, right?

The first parents and caregivers that had applied to put my new hands on learning in place had to be interviewed and accessed. While I wanted the children to be prepared, I refused to allow just anyone who volunteered to have a go - which I explained during a meeting with everyone who showed interest. I wanted to make certain that everyone knew precisely what was coming, the process, and if they found any part of it bothersome or unnecessary, then they weren’t going to be seen as bad for removing themselves from consideration. I had a schedule pre-set, just in case no one cared to withdraw, but very few did so the schedule stayed, and gave me breaks where I hadn’t left time for any.

It became rote, the interview and assessment process - finding out each person’s plan for what they wished to share along with how, and being given a sample of their methods - with my guards standing in as students (who knew the troops had so many actors in their ranks). I didn’t have to deny many, and the ones that were denied, were actually simply paired up with another volunteer - because their plans aligned and I was happy to find that partnerships worked.

Another chore off my list, I was careful about attending every medical appointment, even as I was pleasantly surprised by the slowing of my nausea - even when presented with sugary treats by unknowing students and library patrons. The greenish tinge was replaced by a more normal complexion and I could almost believe that I might actually be glowing now.

Daryl and Rosita took rotations with my guard, but since Pam was insistent that I have round the clock coverage, I could hardly expect them to be at my side - or as my other guards found themselves outside my door.

I woke one morning to find that they weren’t at their normal places - and asking the guards who stood in their spots why there’d been a change learned that they were on a special mission. Looking unimpressed by the answer, I insisted on knowing precisely what could be more special than guarding me - a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with my mini tyrants and everything to do with the idea that I was so entitled rolled through my stomach, but I ignored it - and saw one shift uncomfortably. Focusing on the weak link, I asked again, with a little more force.

“The Governor’s son requested their assistance.” Fuck, Sebastian utilized the entitlement easier than I ever could and I knew whatever he wanted them for wasn’t simple guarding - I’d heard enough rumors to know that he was a bully and used the power that his name and mother gave him for nothing less than trouble.

“I see,” closing the door behind me, our walk to the school was silent.

Seated at my desk, I looked up at the knock on my door frame. Carol, and since she wasn’t holding a box of something from the bakery, I assumed it was social. Wrong, so wrong.

Shaking her head at my offer for her to sit, she launched into her reason for showing up at the school. When Daryl and Rosita were on duty with me, I gave them leave any time they wanted a break - lunch or otherwise - and Daryl was going to have lunch with her, but didn’t show.

“He and Rosita are with Sebastian,” and we both knew that that meant nothing good - especially since he’d been gone for most of the day, I was finishing up before I would lock the doors and go home. “Go to Mercer,” and she was off, while I felt my worry grow.

Later, far too late for my peace of mind, a knock came - softer than my guards were known for.

Opening the door a crack, Daryl was on the other side - alone. I motioned for him to come in, and then closed the door behind him. He looked fine, aside from - reaching up and pulled a shred of walker skin from his hair and held it in front of his face.

“Carol told me you were worried,” he was quieter than necessary, but then again, that was just Daryl. “She said even if you didn’t say it, you were,” a small smile crept across his lips and I waited. “I didn’t have a chance to tell ya that our rotation changed.”

“Let me,” he followed me to the kitchen where I tossed the bit of flesh into the trash and washed my hands. “Want to sit?” The table and chairs weren’t near any windows, and I had the curtains pulled regardless which I knew he took note of before he sat. He was an observer, a lot like me. “Are you alright?” He shrugged and sighed. “You had dead flesh stuck in your hair, Daryl, I’m gonna need more than ‘our rotation changed’.”

“She said you knew we were with your cousin,” Carol, always so full of info, yet here we were. “He’s rotten, Elara.”

In a normal family I would be poised to defend, after all blood is thicker than -right? But us Miltons aren’t exactly normal. “I know.” I sat across from him and offered up my own sigh. “We weren’t close growing up, which might make sense since I’m so much older than he is -” Daryl snorted, clearly giving me some leeway with my age. “He was always a little shit,” and he had been. Throwing fits and stamping his feet. Truly a terror on small legs. That earned me a real laugh and I realized that Daryl didn’t often show anything less than calm and strength - humor was something I could get used to. “I’m glad you’re ok,” he nodded, but didn’t get up and I was glad for his company. “Is Rosita -”

“She’s fine,” he promised, and looked around the room. “We stay close when we’re with ya, but I ain’t sure I’ve had a tour.”

“Are you doing guard duty now?” He nodded and I sighed again. “Shouldn’t you take a break?”

“Nah,” he stood up and gave me his hand. “Show me around,” and so I did -

He was asleep on the sofa when I woke up - and while it was tempting to pull the cover up and tuck him in better, I knew that he’d wake up as soon as I got close. Leaving him, I moved to the kitchen to make breakfast - I didn’t have to go to the school or library, so I’d been planning a quiet day in - considering my houseguest was Daryl my plans weren’t actually changing much. Just a little extra food to make, which he heard me preparing because I felt his presence before I actually caught a glimpse of him.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he sat at the table and I told him what I was making.

“Sounds good,” and that’s how it began.

Simple, quiet and slow. Daryl Dixon and I started seeing one another.

#negan x ofc #alternate universe #the walking dead #daryl dixon x ofc

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 19

After a night like the one I had, I’d hoped that I could sleep in - after all, I was as big as the Goodyear blimp had been once upon a time, didn’t that afford me some luxury of laziness?

No. The answer is apparently no.

The knocking sounded like it was coming from the inside of my skull and I was muttering dark things under my breath that I must have picked up from something I read - I would never have such terrible ideas on my own - as I made my way to the front door. Wrenching it open, my glare would have created a stammer from one of my former students, but my visitor looked less concerned with my irritation and more interested in gaining access to the security of my abode.

Max. Looking like she’d deal with whatever temper I might unleash on her rather than contend with whatever caused her to visit, I had to admit my curiosity was growing in spite of myself.

She waited while I assured my guards that I was ready for visitors and that Max and I had planned for her to come, that I’d simply overslept and forgotten. Then, shutting the door firmly behind her, she followed me to the living room where I gestured at the sofa so we wouldn’t be standing the entire time.

Once I’d gotten myself tucked into my own chair, I waited for her to explain - after all, I just lied to my guards and there had to be some reason for her to come to me so damn early.

“I did something really stupid,” that was hard to believe, she was one of the most efficient people I’d ever met. “Something that led to the Alexandrians coming -” she told me, from the beginning, about a man named Eugene and how contact with him via a radio had led to him and a few others showing up, then how it led to more - lies and worse. “And now,” she swallowed hard enough for me to worry that the guards would hear her. “I had tell someone,” she was pleading with me, and I didn’t know what for -

“What am I supposed to do?” Honestly, I was a huge float of a pregnant whale and even without the extra unwieldiness, it wasn’t as if I had power.

“Nothing,” I must have looked as disbelieving as I felt because she rushed on. “Not nothing, but nothing to get anyone in trouble.” For someone who could keep the Milton’s in line, she was coming across pretty inept. “I know that Pamela and Sebastian aren’t close members of your family.” That was the understatement of time’s existence. “And I know you don’t have influence on them or how they run things.” Right, so I was still having trouble figuring out why she was in my living room unburdening herself. “I also know that you keep to yourself and that no one really knows what you think - unless you tell them.”

“All obvious conjectures,” I mean, really, new arrivals at the Commonwealth would figure these things out pretty quickly.

Taking a deep breath, gaining courage, “That means that you’re trustworthy, at least in my eyes.” Oh. That wasn’t really expected. “I don’t need you to fix anything, Elara, or to figure it out for me -” her eyes met mine and I realized that she honestly just needed someone to talk to. “Out of everyone inside these walls, you’re one of the few people I feel that I could tell and not have to worry that you’d run to your aunt or cousin to tattle.”

That was oddly sweet and true. I wouldn’t tell Pam anything, and as for Sebastian - I’m not sure why I would bother. “OK,” nodding, I tried to smile, but I had to admit to her that I was worried - not for myself, but for her. “What happens if they figure this out?” She straightened her spine and held her head up. “Not just Pam or Sebastian - what if Hornsby finds out?”

She tried to assure me, and possibly herself, that he wouldn’t. Or if he did, he wouldn’t be able to link it back to her - it being the communications breach. I think she lacked something in her conviction, with a slight waver sliding through her voice during her attempt. “There is something more, I don’t really know what to make of it -”

I knew that not all of the Alexandrians had made the Commonwealth their home, and I knew that most of them must have kept something back - if Pamela knew she could have more citizens under her control, she would have pressed for more. And now, after Max told me what she’d inadvertently heard Hornsby mentioning to Pam, I also knew that my former home wasn’t as safe as anyone might have tried to make it.

“Are you alright?” I was considering what precisely my darling aunt would do, what attempts she would be willing to take, if only to show her strength. After what happened at the masquerade, I knew that she was feeling like her control would need to be shown and reminded to her people - and possibly at the expense of people who I’d once lived among. “You’re really pale.” She’d gotten to her feet and was next to me, kneeling so she could make sure I wasn’t going to pass out.

“You might not want to be so close, and maybe move the trash can closer instead.” My stomach was roiling and I knew that the babies weren’t happy about the stress, but too bad, I had to figure things out. “Is there a way to get a message out -” I wasn’t actually talking to her, my thoughts had just come out louder than I wanted them to, and so I barely listened while she gave me unwanted points. “Stop, just -” waving her away, happy to see that she’d put the trash can next to me, I told her she might want to leave. “I’m fine,” my assurances came out more forcefully than hers had, and she looked almost appeased. “Honestly, I’m good,” aside from the almost certainty that I was going to retch until nothing was left inside of me, I was fine. “I just have to think about some things”

I was dressed and ready to make an unscheduled visit to Pamela’s humble home once I emptied my insides and murmured to the tiny beings inside of me that everything would be alright once I figured out what Pam was up to and how I might be able to warn the people that stayed behind in Alexandria of her plans.

My guards were near enough to touch, but they weren’t being overly clingy - a gift that I gladly took since I was slightly unsteady and still must have looked less than hearty.

“What do you mean she isn’t here?” My early morning glare had returned and I was happy to see that the lackey left behind was more affected by it than Max had been. “Where has she gone?” My hand went to my pronounced bump, drawing his attention and earning me a swallow hard enough to see his Adam’s apple bob. That’s right, I was her niece and I was carrying the next generation of Miltons, work through that fear.

“I apologize, but she didn’t say where she and Mr. Hornsby were going -” Fuck, I had a dark terrible feeling that I knew precisely where the two of them were going and it was too late for me to give notice. “If you’d like to leave a message -” but I wasn’t listening, turning as he prattled on. I left thinking that I missed the opportunity to save anyone left behind from whatever Pam and her minion were planning on doing.

Walking back from my unsuccessful trip, my guards were no more than shadows now that I was less weak - thanks to a stop at one of the cafes for a small bite, outside so I didn’t accidentally inhale anything sweet. I saw Rosita on a bench, a man that was vaguely familiar with her and looking despondent. Her head raised and she smiled and gave me a half wave - clearly she had more important things to contend with, but she was the first Alexandrian that I came across and damn it -

I was beside the bench before I fully realized my intent, and after I asked the guards to step back so I could take a moment with a few friends - the man looked taken aback, but with a slight adjustment of my position, I knew my bulk hid him. Rosita focused on my face, and on the shift I made to keep her companion out of sight of my shadows.

“I was wondering,” her gaze stayed locked on mine and I knew she could hear my worry weaved through the casualness of my words. “Have you heard from -” I considered who hadn’t come along to the Commonwealth and only one name popped into my head. “Maggie lately?” Her eyes widened and I adjusted again, putting both of them in my real shadow. I had to think about how to say it without saying it. “I can’t visit, but I think she might be getting some other guests soon.”

“You know Maggie,” she offered, nodding slightly to let me know she was figuring it out. “She’s not that great with uninvited visitors.”

“Well, hopefully they won’t be unexpected.” The man was watching us with slightly narrowed eyes and I could almost see when it started clicking together. “I’m so tired from last night,” stepping away, once I saw their masks drop back into place, “I really shouldn’t have gotten up so early, but I had my own visitor.” Rosita looked concerned, but I smiled to calm that fear at least. “It was just Max,” I saw the man flinch and realized who he was - the Eugene she’d mentioned and I had seen him before within the gates here. “She remembered we were meeting, but I didn’t.” Shrugging, I fell back with the two armored people flanking me. “It was good to see you,” I offered as I walked away, hopeful that Rosita would figure out what to do with what I managed to get out.

#alternate universe #the walking dead #negan x ofc #unexpected pregnancy

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 18

Preparation for Halloween seemed a little crazy, in my opinion, given the current world events. Yet a carnival of sorts was planned, along with Pam’s asinine masquerade shindig, which I was looking forward to with the same excitement a visit to have a root canal without anesthesia might warrant.

Bowing out of the unofficial festivities while also giving the staff at the library a chance to partake in them, I opted to keep the library open. The staff was so efficient, now that they had a clear path forward, that I mostly sat behind the circulation desk reading the most interesting book I could find - “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.”

The first people that chose the library over the celebratory events occurring beyond the front door weren’t much of a surprise to me - I had begun to expect the check-ins from the former inhabitants of Alexandria. Carol knew I’d had a checkup with Tomi, so of course she wanted to know if everything was running according to plan - I wondered if she always spoke as if preparing for battle, but I didn’t want to ruin this newfound comradery that I found comforting. Hormones, I figured, yet it didn’t make me enjoy the interactions any less. Daryl was with her, along with Judith and RJ - both of whom I knew were chomping at the bit to go see what a holiday carnival looked like.

I didn’t force them to linger too long, Daryl looked as if he might want to hang out in the quiet longer - like a good uncle he allowed himself to be tugged outside, but warned his two charges that he wouldn’t be running around too long. Carol concurred, since she was pressed to serve food during the carnival. Daryl would be on duty later, during the masquerade, and I smiled and shooed them out, reminding all of them that there was more fun to be had in the sunshine than among the stacks keeping me company. I heard Carol greeting someone as they left, but turned back to my book, certain that whomever she was speaking to would be heading toward the entertainment outside, not in.

Kelly, who I recalled slightly from my time in Daryl and Carol’s old digs, was smiling beside another woman - Connie, I was told and realized that she’d been missing during my stay in a slowly dying community. Deaf and ambitious, she was working for the Commonwealth newspaper and wanted they wanted to interview me -

“As the head of the library and school or -” their smiles didn’t falter, but they did grow taunt. “I see.”

“Your roles are interesting within the walls,” Kelly offered, then dove right in with the reminder of just who I was in the grand scheme of things. “You never told us that your grandfather was -”

Holding back a sigh was harder than it sounds, but I managed. “I wonder why I didn’t?” it was clearly hypothetical and I was gratified to see they both understood it, even as Connie’s hand worked to take notes. “The truth is,” what was the truth, actually? “Outside these walls, and even inside them, I don’t honestly see why it would matter.” Close enough. “My grandfather was a former President, but that was ages ago, literally.” I sat my book down, having closed it, but keeping it in my lap just in case the visit was short. “The fact that my aunt utilizes the family name and continues to govern as though it were a right of birth is her thing, not mine.” Disbelief met this, and I couldn’t hold the sigh back any longer. “I took the positions I have because they were most suited to my former experience and that seems to be what the Commonwealth is all about, right?”

Not entirely convinced, but they backed off a bit. The questions turned to the changes I’d made at the school - the ideas for teaching the next generation's preparation for the “what if” scenarios that my aunt seemed incapable to appreciate, even if I didn’t say precisely that. Whether the library had more members after the grand opening, and fluffy questions that made it seem as if they weren’t looking for dirt on Pam and her leadership.

After they assured me they would give me an advance read of Connie’s article, not that I asked, they left and I went back to my blissfully quiet day.

If only I could have parlayed my quiet day into an equally quiet evening, but that wouldn’t do with Auntie Pam’s party that I was reminded I’d be required to attend - a letter delivered to the library just before I locked the doors telling me where I could stand or sit that wouldn’t have a hint of a whiff of anything sugary. My darling aunt’s handwriting also offered that she hoped I found the gown she’d found for me not only acceptable, but as lovely as she’d found it. Rolling my eyes, since my guards were a few steps behind, I realized she expected gratitude for the “gift”. Dear God.

Inside my cozy abode, I let loose another sigh and instead of taking a long hot bath, eating whatever I chose to make for my dinner, and settling in for more reading and relaxing, I had to prepare for an event I’d rather ignore.

I did get the long hot bath - my tiny terrors insisted on something relaxing lest they toss my proverbial cookies all over everything and while the idea of calling in sick, with my luck Pam would simply send Sebastian out to poke and prod me until I was forced to attend regardless. I’d seen members of our family try to use real illness to get out of a family obligation before, and that’s usually - with different members enacting different roles - how things would go.

Once I was soothed, or at least the babies were, I stood glaring down at the dress and wondered if she was pulling some elaborate prank on me. Why else would she choose something so white and somewhat indecent? Was that it? Was I both a Madonna and whore? Satin with tucks and pulls to showcase my ever growing bump, the neckline was such a deep v that I had to either thank the pregnancy gods for my bounteous bust or curse them - I chose the latter, but the cursing was directed at a much closer target. There was a demi-mask tucked into the box along with a tiny piece of jewelry that made me almost certain that this entire thing was a joke, but the card accompanying it in the square velvet box corrected me. It was simply to keep those pesky commoner tongues from wagging - not an exact quote, but I could read between the lines.

“If you wear this, even after tonight, perhaps awkward questions will stop about your condition -

PM”

I wondered who was asking awkward questions and if they made her squirm? I hoped so. Yet I couldn’t deny the ring was - wait, I turned the tiny circle over in my palm and squinted at the inner band and there it was, my grandparents’ initials and a date that I knew must have been their wedding day. It wasn’t a simple gold or silver band, nothing was ever simple in the Milton family - no it was an eternity band, triple rows of diamonds circling to form a band that might (dare I pray) not fit my not really swollen finger. Sliding it on my left ring finger felt wrong, but it was a family heirloom after all, and eerily it fit. Perfectly. I turned the card over, wondering if Pam had concocted an entire background for this missing baby daddy of mine, but it was blank. Damn, and she prided herself on thinking of everything.

Dressed, sans mask because it felt like it was smothering me - even if it was made of something lacy, with shoes to match (one day I might fully appreciate the closet I was gifted with, but not at the moment) I opened the front door and told the guards I was as ready as I could get.

The streets were still crowded and as I neared the source of my discomfort I realized this was our new world’s version of a red carpet event. Shit. People were in a crush, watching who came and entered, and I was gently pushed along getting inside without any interaction with the gawkers and lurkers. Inside wasn’t much better, but I found the corner that was reserved for me and my sweet hating offspring, sitting up a very embarrassed version of court - or so it seemed as people came to me, to meet an mingle - and at least one was someone I didn’t feel completely browbeat to greet.

“Tomi,” I had managed a sip of cool water before he was standing in front of me, a lovely woman beside him. “I’m glad you came.” And I was, my doctor close at hand might give me a slight chance of begging off early - doctor’s orders and all that.

His smile was bright and his face flushed. “Elara,” he was always welcoming, but now he sounded a little cozier than usual - the glass in his hand, barely a sip left, let me know that my doctor was well on the way to becoming sloshed. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Yumiko.” She looked less than excited, and a little less formal and more professionally dressed.

We chatted, and I learned that Yumiko was a lawyer, that she was clearly worried about Tomi’s condition and seeing him flag down and drink two more glasses while our short chat progressed, I had to agree with her.

Mercer, the formidable guard who always wore reddish orange to distinguish him from the others, looked almost unrecognizable in a tailored suit and the young woman beside him looked fit to burst to be next to him - or at the party - it was hard to tell.

I watched and listened, trying to keep myself occupied while waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It came when Pam arrived and took the stage, so to speak, feigning she couldn’t find me in the crowd, she requested my presence at her side - teasing that she promised nothing with a hint of sugar was near her. A smattering of quiet laughter met her joke and I felt myself yearning for any excuse to bow out, but sadly a guard was at my side helping me make my way through the guests to my aunt’s side. Sebastian was invisible to me, but then again he had always been an irritating child, I could only imagine his personality now that he was an adult.

I didn’t listen as she prattled on and on, or if it was a short speech, I was ready to leave - if I’d ever been truly ready to come. Then there it was, the portrait of President Milton - I couldn’t say Grandfather or even think it because he looked only like the figure, not the man I had known during the specks of memories I had of him.

Chaos struck, a waiter armed with a knife had Max tight against him, the knifepoint close enough to make me feel a different type of sick. He was throwing accusations at Pamela. Dark and terrible, how he’d lost everything due to a mistake and how everyone like him meant nothing to her - that she was a liar. Max showed far more patience and calm than I thought possible, soothing the man’s frayed nerves and then he was gone, or going.

It shouldn’t have shocked me that the party continued, that a few titterings and then as if we’d all dreamt it - nothing.

Suddenly my errant cousin was there, hostage taking waiter in hand. Standing close to Pam, I listened as he raved, or rebelled - “RESIST THE COMMONWEALTH! VISIBILITY FOR WORKERS! EQUALITY FOR ALL!” warning that he was one of thousands -

My aunt either thought I was out of earshot or that I was loyal to blood above all, told her minion Hornsby to investigate and I felt like the evening had to be over.

#negan x ofc #the walking dead #alternate universe #unplanned pregnancy

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 17

The school event wasn’t nearly as eventful as the library’s - perhaps Pam wasn’t feeling as confident in her ability to go against what was clearly a popular decision for changes to the current education standards being set within the walls of the Commonwealth - or maybe she was preparing for a new battle.

A box was delivered to my cottage while I was at the school going through a stack of applications that had been filled out by interested parents, guardians, and other members of the community that wanted to volunteer their services to the new program. Waiting on the table with an ominous bow, I had to take a deep breath to soothe my little one before I could be hit with a wave of vertigo or God forbid, nausea.

I put off opening it until I made dinner and was dressed in more comfortable clothing, then I put it off for a bit longer while I ate and relaxed - I had gone through a huge stack of paperwork during my day. I contemplated taking a long soaking bath, but a rumble inside of my head that sounded vaguely like a voice that haunted my dreams and had a huge part of why I’d soon be unable to see my own toes taunted me with my cowardice over a present.

“What’s the worst thing that a box could hold?” I muttered, tugging the gaudy-by-current standards package toward me and tugging the ribbon until I could open the box. I didn’t want to contemplate where she’d found it,, I simply slid it to the side and my eyes rolled heavenward - Really, Pam? For fuck’s sake. Pulling the outfit free from the box, I wanted to scream, but I chose to remain calm - for the baby.

She would choose this - this fucking - tossing it back in the box, I walked away from the table, taking my dishes to the sink and chose to clean up from dinner. Screw dealing with the bullshit family Masquerade Ball - I felt sure that it would be as much of a disaster as every other family event that my family created before the end of the world - instead, as I relaxed into simplicity of domestic chores, I thought about more pleasant things - like the Halloween carnival and how I planned on making sure both the library and school would play an active part.

I managed to discuss a possible change of my guard, without going into too much detail, with Max, and she assured me she’d see what she could do - and I knew that meant she’d pull enough strings that Daryl and Rosita would be near me soon enough.

“Are you sure?” I knew it came out sharper than I meant for it to, but the news wasn’t exactly the easiest to swallow - especially after Carol’s little joke during the library’s grand opening. Staring at the ultrasound, trying desperately to argue against the proof that was throbbing right in front of my eyes, taking a deep breath I tried again. “It’s just that -”

Tomi, my doctor had insisted I not call him by his professional name after I nearly face planted off the exam table during my first visit and had actually tossed my lunch all over his shoes twice during other visits, giving me what I knew he considered was a reassuring smile. “It’s overwhelming.” Gee, you think?! “Multiples are a shock for new parents,” whatever look passed over my face had him reaching for the waste receptacle he kept close during my visits. “Here, just in case.” I sat up, tucking the bucket as close to me as it could get now that I had - “Triplets are undoubtedly more than you were expecting.” The rush of vertigo hit me like a train and I was thankful that I hadn’t had more than some juice and water, because the trash can wasn’t all that large and it received what my stomach held and Tomi waited until I was empty and finished dry heaving. “The real worry is whether we’ll have to look at bed rest closer to your due date.”

I snorted, wiping my mouth on a rag that he handed me. “Or whether I’ll survive delivering three babies.” He paled, but I wanted to be realistic. “I know we have more advances here,” assuring him that I wasn’t completely daft from the news was important, but I wanted him to know I wasn’t completely ignorant of the realities of the world either. “Maternal and infant mortality rates weren’t all that great before all this happened, and now?” We both sighed, and I felt bad for bringing him down. I knew that he hadn’t wanted to come back to medicine. This wasn’t where he wanted to be - we talked while he calmed me during the vertigo and the trial and error that it took to get me vertical and productive again. “I’m sorry.”

The smile that slipped across his mouth wasn’t an attempt at soothing my nerves, this time it was real and looked more like the friend he’d become. “Don’t be.” He reached for my hand and I gave it willingly. “You’re scared, and you have every right to be.” With a squeeze we both drew some strength to get back to our day. He walked me out, reminding me to take it easy and to eat just as well as I had been - projecting the careful patient/doctor facade that kept him safe. A curtain that had to come down between people in the Commonwealth that I had learned quickly was the easiest and safest way to make it through.

#negan x ofc #the walking dead #alternate universe #unexpected pregnancy

[justjessame]

Put Me In Coach: I'd Jingle His Bells ~

The giggles that met me as I walked into the apartment were something that I both adored and would never get enough of - but the sight that greeted me was unexpected.

“Where did you find that?” My eyes were on a tree - a Christmas tree to be exact, and somehow it was actually decorated. Negan and Trey were on the floor and the giggles had come from our little guy laying on his back looking up through the branches that held twinkle lights, beside my husband who was just as fucking delighted in the vision their perspective beheld.

Negan’s head raised, nearly losing an eye to one of the branches, but I managed to bite my lip to keep from laughing - just in case. “Come on, sweetheart, I can find anything.” The tone and the look he shot me reminded me of all the things he’d managed to find on me - and the noises he could elicit from each and every one. A wink and his head was beside Trey’s as they mumbled together under the tree - not mumbling I realized, but singing.

“Is that Jingle Bells I hear?” I put down the few things I’d brought back from the meeting I’d had with the parents of my students. Gifts and notes, all great things that reminded me that I had a purpose other than as a wife and mother, not that either of those roles were lacking. Shaking my head, I kicked off my shoes and was on my back under the tree on Trey’s other side, the sound of Christmas carols a touch louder this close.

“Daddy brought us a tree, Mommy.” At four, our little guy was growing more articulate by the day. “And he taught me songs.”

The lights twinkled through the branches as Trey and Negan dueted on all the songs he managed to teach to the little guy we were raising. The catalog wasn’t vast, nor was it precisely perfect, but I’d dare anyone to tell me - or them - otherwise.

“Oh. My. God.” Eric’s voice called out from the now open door. “Coach, you managed to find one too.” That meant that Steven procured a tree for my bestie as well. “And do my ears deceive or is that sexy voice of yours singing in here?” My lip was going to fucking bleed soon if he didn’t stop.

And then he was under the tree next to me, and I heard a sigh as Steven joined him and us. “Isn’t it pretty, Uncle Eric?” Trey was clearly happier than even his birthday would make him. As he and his uncles chatted about the tree, along with Negan’s assurances that the trees were just the beginning, I realized that this was something he’d been planning for a while.

Eric and Steven took Trey to their place so he could see their tree, and to give me and Coach a little alone time.

I was working on putting away the toys Trey forgot to put away before he ran off to the funnest place on earth - Eric’s description of their apartment, which he usually gave with a flamboyant screech and an eye waggle that would make us all laugh, for clearly different reasons. Hearing Negan clear his throat, I looked up and was super happy I was already on the floor, because the sight of what greeted my eyes would have knocked me on my ass for certain.

There my husband, Coach Negan, fearless leader of the Sanctuary stood wearing a Santa hat - and not a fucking thing more.

“Well?” He was waiting for me to say or do something, obviously.

Narrowing my eyes as I studied him, I let my eyes take a slow tour tip to toe, so to speak. While my darling husband grew less patient.

“Amara,” he growled at me and I couldn’t stop the grin that came at his obvious irritation caused by my silence at what was clearly a private gift for me.

“Couldn’t find a bow big enough for your dick, Coach?” I asked with a head tilt and that did it, he was over top of me, and I got the full package - if you know what I mean.

On our bed, hours later and after dinner and more dessert, I felt my own giggles break free. Groaning, underneath where he held me on top of his chest, Negan asked what I could possibly find so fucking funny after the marathon we just did.

“I was thinking,” propping my chin on his chest so our eyes could meet, I sighed as his hand slid up my body to cup my cheek. “Aren’t you fucking estatic that cameras aren’t really a thing anymore?” His eyebrow went up and I bit my lip before more laughter fell free. “I mean, couldn’t you just hear the squeal Eric would unleash if I had a pic of you in that hat to share?”

His own laughter met mine, and then our lips were together and we forgot Eric and his glee if he could see Santa Negan in all his wonder.

#negan x ofc #alternate universe #the walking dead #smut

[justjessame]

Expectations: And So It Begins

Summary:

Lady Catherine Somerset, future Duchess of Beaufort thanks to her eldest brothers indiscretions, is about to debut as the newest debutante for the Season. After Queen Charlotte becomes distracted by the first addition of Lady Whistledown's second Season of pamplets, very few of the prospects have been presented, but fear not because expectations must be met.

With three younger sisters, a best friend who found her own desirable match in a rakish Duke but a year prior, Cat hopes her own foray into seaching for a suitable match will be as successful. Perhaps she should have prepared for this as dilligently as she prepared her sisters' education, the running of her Father's homes, and learning the responsiblities of her future title.

How difficult could finding a husband really be?

I surveyed the gowns Mary had laid out for my inspection, my stomach a tangle of knotted butterflies battering to be freed. While I had managed to steer clear of the anxiety inducing tradition of being debuted for a few years - the first horrific step of which was to be presented to Queen Charlotte to be deemed worthy of such - thanks in part to Father’s insistence that I bear full responsibility for the duties my mama was no longer alive to attend to and to be taught the added burdens being named his true heir would create when he should join her in the hereafter.

Yet, even with the prospect of becoming a Duchess in my own right, a husband must be had - a simple fact of life, as it were.

While I pursued the offerings that all looked terribly similar, I allowed myself a moment to appreciate that while I was not particularly excited about being run through the paces of courtship during a season among the ton, at least I would be back among the young women of my youth - including my dear friend Daphne, who only the year before had become a Duchess herself, albeit from marrying Hastings. I had heard that it was a true love match, one that had not only Her Majesty's approval, but shined brightly from the couple at every public event. And she was a new mother, something I knew she had wanted for as long as she had known her own place in the world.

I wish I were as certain about my own fate.

After choosing one of the gowns, which honestly I felt could have been chosen for me since they were so very much the same, and being prepared for my presentation - Mary opened the door to three shining faces, looking for all the world as if they were hoping that I would find my match during this first outing. As my lady’s maid clucked at my sisters - all of whom I was making certain were not only educated in the unexceptional areas of duty, but also in the classics, languages beyond what a suitable husband may want or expect, as well as nurturing whatever passion each wished to pursue - they rushed into my room, clearly wanting details of what was to come, again.

“You look,” Anne began, squinting to find precisely what compliment to pay me, “quite lovely.”

I had doubts, since I was more than sure that I would look exactly like every other young lady of means that would be put through the same paces as me, but I smiled at her attempt to make me feel more confident.

“And since you have Papa’s title in due course, the fact that you are incredibly pretty will be like adding -” Elizabeth, my youngest sister with an appalling lack of tact was cut off before she could earn herself another lesson with the lady I hired to teach etiquette and manners.

Jane, the sister that I was closest to, and who was but two years younger than myself and should be sharing this moment with me had pinched the offending baby of the family. Sweet smile in place, she assured me and our sisters that my title would have nothing to do with the man I would marry. “Catherine is the obvious diamond this season -” I opened my mouth to protest, both her assumption and to chide her for reading that tawdry rag being printed by the anonymous “Lady Whistledown.” “You know it is true, Cat, regardless of who might be saying it.”

Shaking my head, I stood up from the vanity where I sat while Mary worked so diligently to make me look presentable. The trio that I had both mothered and befriended closed in and, careful of the gown, embraced me as a group. Father’s voice broke through our shared comfort.

“You three look as if we’re sending Cat off to battle,” his eyes were twinkling and I could not help but smile. “Our dear Cat is simply going out to meet the next stage of her life, my girls,” if only people could see him when he was home and alone with us - not how he’d reacted to Edward’s scandal or the tacturn way he behaved in public, a public that only knew him as “His Grace, the Duke of Beaufort”.

“He is correct,” their gazes returned to me, still in the middle of their huddle. “Nothing will change, aside from adding another man to the household.”

Jane looked as if she was biting back something worrisome, but Father held out his hand and reminded me we had a schedule to keep. Kissing each of my sisters’ cheeks, I drew away from them, and walked forward toward my future.

The buzzing began as soon as Father and I stepped down from our carriage. Head high, hand upon his arm, I did my best to ignore the whispers - especially since I already knew what the mouths that were tittling were no doubt saying.

When Edward had ruined himself, and the poor young woman whom he’d been caught with, my sisters had wondered if the business would ruin us as well. Then Father not only exiled him from our family homes, but also disowned him and his chances of becoming the next Duke of Beaufort and came to me with the announcement that he’d taken the proper steps to make certain that I would be his heir, I knew that I would face this one day.

We were not ruined. Our title and my father’s place among the peerage made that a certainty, after all our title came from our lineage - going back to John of Gaunt and our ancestors included queens and kings. No, being ruined was not in our cards, but this - gossip and backbiting - that would most certainly be.

I was pulled from my carefully constructed thoughts by a welcome and familiar voice.

“My Lady Somerset,” I met Daphne’s glowing smile and greeting with one of my own. “It is so good to see you again.” I knew the truth of her words, since we had exchanged frequent letters since we last saw one another.

“And you, your Grace.” A faint blush colored her cheeks and Father stood by looking proud as we made plans to meet soon - either at our home or the home she’d made with the Duke. “I cannot believe that I’m being presented at the same time as Eloise.” As if I spoke above the perfect conversational whisper, her sister appeared, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Thank God,” her voice was almost too loud, but she looked pleased to see me. “With you here I will simply fade into the background.” My eyes were drawn to the incredibly high white flower sticking up from her hair arrangement and she groaned. “It is absolutely monstrous.”

Biting my lip, I made an attempt to soothe her nerves and found it helped my own anxiety to focus on someone else’s. “It is not that terrible.” A look of disbelief shone on her face like a beacon. “Perhaps if we,” but I was not able to offer or try to tame the blinding white feather - it had begun.

As I awaited my turn, in a new type of clutch of womanhood, with Father standing comfortingly beside me, he seemed to know I needed more assurances. “I do believe you are one of a few who did not take part in whatever plucking occurred to defeather all the birds in England, my Cat.” My smile grew and he chuckled quietly. “That alone will make you stand out far more than your title - although your beauty might push you even higher.” My own small laugh slipped out, earning me a look of reproach from a mama nearby. “Remember who you are, Catherine.” And then the doors opened and I found myself ready for the battle my sisters seemed certain I was facing.

“What do you mean you were not presented?” Jane was helping Mary defrock me while I explained that the entire affair was upended by one snark ridden writer who held the Queen in more rapture than any marriageable young lady ever could.

“She just tossed the lot of you out?” Mary’s mouth was gaping after she asked, the very thought of it had her astounded. “Before all of you were -”

“Yes,” the nerves were gone, for now. “I assume that all of us are still permitted to continue with the season, regardless of Her Majesty’s lack of participation.” At least I was not shown as an animal to a prospective group of buyers. “Although I have to wonder how the suitors will know it can begin.” There was an expectation for how these things were run, and now it had been upended by the highest authority on it in the land.

Mary snorted, causing Jane and I to focus on her. “Surely you both understand that the prospective bachelors have been given advance notice of just who would be presented?” It should not have shocked me, yet somehow it did. “Trust me, my lady, your prospects are not challenged in the slightest. I imagine that his Grace has also sent out letters, reminding his friends that he has a daughter of marriageable age.” Dear God, I had not skipped a single step, even with the Queen’s lack of decorum - God forbid me for mentioning it.

My reflection was pale, the bundle of irritable butterflies stirred up once more in my stomach, as I realized that the new day would bring with it the first of many events I would have to attend with the same careful preparation as was just undone.

Jane’s hand touched my cheek, bringing me back to my room and the exhaustion I already felt. “You are going to be fine,” her assurances were not as helpful as they had been and so she continued. “I know you have so much to attend to besides this, but you will be fine, Cat. You can handle any challenge.”

“Especially after helping raise Elizabeth,” Mary chimed in, her hand on my shoulder squeezing gently to remind me that I had taken on more absurd trials than this one. After all, how difficult could the act of courtship really be?

#bridgerton #Anthony Bridgerton x Original Female Character #canon divergent au #eventual smut #eventual romance #Other Bridgerton Characters - mostly the Bridgertons #Slowish burn

[justjessame]

But what I don't get is after all these years, you still think I'm the bad guy? I'm not. No one is. Or you know what, Maggie? Maybe everyone is. Ask yourself one question. How many husbands and fathers have you killed?

#twd dead city #first episode #that line #finally said it #Took long enough

[justjessame]

Starting Over: Chapter 56

Once Bucky managed to pull me out of my nightmare, free of the pain and terror that wasn’t MINE, but was pressing down on me from EVERYWHERE - he pulled me into our bathroom and ran us a warm shower.  I was shivering and covered in sweat - the feelings that weren’t mine still tight against me.  

“Come here,” he hadn’t really released me, but he held out his hand and carefully helped me over the lip of the tub.  Turning me so the warmth of the spray was beating down across my shoulders and the back of my head, he tilted my face up so I was looking into his.  “I’m right here, Brooke.  You’re right in front of me and I’m RIGHT HERE.”  

He looked like he was speaking to a cornered animal, frightened and ready to lash out or cringe away - I wondered what expression my face wore?  I was still shaking, the tension of what I’d felt, similar yet so different from before - why was it worse - and the water wasn’t helping.  

“Sweetheart, tell me,” blinking up at him, I couldn’t seem to find the words.  How do you explain what you felt but didn’t really know?  “Please?”  

As he worked to hold me and warm my skin, or at least give me some comfort - rubbing soothing patterns as he washed away the layer of sweat that coated me from my nightmare - I tried to capture where I’d been and what I’d witnessed.  “It always starts out the same,” I wasn’t sure he could hear me over the shower, but he hummed so I went on.  “Flashes of lights - red, blue, white - and usually it’s just the feeling of darkness and terror.”  He looked up from where he was washing my legs, and I knew he wanted to know what had changed.  “I can hear them now.  Pain, torture.”  My voice grew thick as I considered how the screams and groans had echoed.  “There are shadows, vague impressions of beings, but they’re growing clearer -”  

Bucky rose to his feet and used his bare hands to rinse the suds free from where he’d washed me.  Taking his time to consider whatever questions were bubbling up, and I knew he must have some because I had my own.  “And you don’t know where you are?”  

“No,”  I didn’t want to know.  I just wanted to never go back.  “Why am I seeing this, Buck?”  

He pulled me into his arms and held me tight, pressing his lips into my wet hair.  “I don’t know, doll, but we’re gonna figure it out.”  

It took longer to relax me than normal and I hated that I was a basket case for longer, but I didn’t hate the extra time we spent together - the trade off for being a mentally fragile was that Bucky spent more time trying to calm my silly ass down when the nightmares got too real.  I didn’t hate it, I just didn’t want the ONLY reason for our spending extra time together in the mornings to be so he could help me relax from the tension created by night fear boogie men.  

He made me a cup of tea.  “Doctor’s orders,” he offered, sitting it down in front of me as he started breakfast.  

“You’re very domestic for a trained assassin, Bucky Barnes.”  He shook his head as he raised an eyebrow at my cup still sitting in front of me waiting for my attention.  Sighing, I picked it up and took a sip.  “Better?”  

“You’ll thank me when you can actually EAT and keep the breakfast I’m making, sweetheart,” his lips worked to keep the smile at bay, but it was a lost cause.  “It helps, doesn’t it?”  

Rolling my eyes, I didn’t say anything, just took another sip - letting that be my answer.  It did help, somehow.  Not a clue why or how, whether science or mystical magic, but he was right - as long as I drank the tea I could keep food down. And our little one needed sustenance, so did I. 

I watched him create another breakfast, smiling at how content and comfortable he looked while doing it. “You look like you were made for this room -” his smile grew and I went on. “Well for this house, actually.”  

“Pretty sure we were built around the same time,” him and the geriatric jokes aside, he was right. Our house was thrown up around the same year that he was born and aside from a few renovations over the preceding years - my eyes drifted to his vibranium arm, and I had to hold back a chuckle - it was still holding up pretty damn well.  Just like a certain someone standing in its kitchen putting together something palpable for me. 

I was curious though, now that the nightmares were drifting away as I drank my tea - “You wouldn’t want to find a new place, bigger or something?” I loved my family home, but we were about to start our lives together in a new way, maybe he wanted a truly fresh start. 

He was shaking his head as he prepared our plates and carried them over to where I was sitting.  “Not unless you do -” a glance at my face told him enough to go on. “This house is great, Brooke. Although,” he took a breath as if he were preparing himself to deliver bad news and I felt a twist in my chest. “We might want to move our room to your parents’. It’s bigger and -” My hand was on his before he could go on with whatever explanation he felt like he had to give me. 

“I think my old room would be perfect for a nursery,” I mentally added “again”, since it had been mine once upon a time. “Moving into the larger room makes complete sense, especially now.”  

It was easier to go into their bedroom now - I’d even been considering going through their things to see what I truly wanted to keep and what could be donated.  “Only if you’re sure,” he offered, a nod and he let out a breath more audible than any I’d ever heard him make before.  “I love you.” 

“I kinda adore you, Bucky Barnes,” putting down the cup that had held my special tea, I picked up my fork. “And it grows with every meal you put in front of me.” That earned me a laugh. “Here’s to keeping every bite down.” I toasted him with my loaded fork before taking my first bite. 

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #alternate universe #angst #unplanned pregnancy #engagement

[justjessame]

Pleasure and Pine: Chapter 9

Watching Ogi play with our toddlers was one of my favorite pastimes - and one he took equal delight in. 

“Watch the ball, Olivia,” he was telling our adventurous little girl while her brother, Jack, was being far more cautious with the entire endeavor - careful and watchful, I wonder where he got that from?

The warmth of the origin of our son’s careful nature was against my back even as the thought ran through my mind and I wondered if he could truly read me as well as he swore - chin propped on the top of my head while his arms wrapped around me as naturally as breathing - I felt rather than heard his chuckle.  “So that’s what you’re so engrossed with,” he watched the three of them playing in the garden below the window we stood by. “I thought I heard Ogi’s dulcet tones when I came in,” he didn’t have to say where he’d been - I knew even if I didn’t want to.  “Work” or what constituted at his new position had called him away from us - not far, never too far from our little family, but far enough for me to feel the prickle of fear every time he walked out the door.  

“Did everything go well?” It was the simplest question, but guarded - as I knew his answer would be. A sigh accompanied what sounded like assent, and I hoped that his assurances would calm my nerves and the prickle of fear that crept up my spine.  “How long until you’re called away again?”  Not a battle or an argument, simply a query about how long I’d have to truly return to normal before he was off again, the worry slipping inside our heavily guarded and comfortable home.  Guards that I didn’t see, yet knew were close, did little to keep me free of stress.  

He drew me away from the window, from a scene that no longer kept my attention or gave me as much joy.  Seated on our bed, pulling me close to him, he told me as much of what was going on as he could - nowhere near enough to keep my heartrate down, but enough to keep me apprised of this reality that he’d begun to create while in Switzerland.  Before he knew that we’d created two lives and that he had a chance at the family we worked so hard to keep close and happy.  A world within a world, I thought - safely tucked away from the dangers he faced, away from the world that he plays acted within for an urge to right wrongs that he’d tried so desperately to cut off before they’d gone wrong.  

“I wish I could never leave again,” his fingers were linking with mine, my wedding band gleaming in the sunlight breaching the windows. A ring that he couldn’t mirror, not without risks he didn’t dare take with me or our little ones.  “I wish I could stay here, with you, Jack and Olivia, in our safe little bubble -”

It was my turn to sigh. We both knew it was a dream and a promise he truly couldn’t keep.  The fear that I’d warned Ogi of had been a reality soon after Jonathan returned to me. He’d brought baggage loaded with danger and intrigue - but neither of us could stand the idea of separating again, not for longer than the trips he was destined to take thanks to his new role. 

“Is it too late to take up another hospitality position?” He faced me, lips quirked with the urge to smile, but deciding if I was joking or not he waited - a new trait that I still wasn’t used to. The old Jonathan would have bantered with me, knowing that it was a jest and ran with it. “Guess not,” I studied him, trying to decide if he looked older from the stress, but he simply looked like my Jonathan.  Ocean blue eyes, freckles, and I adored him - regardless of where that left us.  “Suppose I’ll just have to keep this spy I’ve found creeping into my bed regularly.” That did it, I had broken the tense aura that he’d come home with - he leaned toward me and chuckled as our lips met.  

Marrying Jonathan was the simplest decision I ever made. Loving him was the hardest.  Yet somewhere, from the moment we gave in in Switzerland to where we found ourselves now, I couldn’t find it inside of me to regret a single moment of our life together.  

Not even when Ogi’s voice, echoed by our twins’, came shouting through the house announcing they were finished playing and wondering just what dinner might be. 

#jonathan pine x oc #the night manager #alternate universe

[justjessame]

Falling for a Max

Dinner with Grandmother and Maxen was exactly as I expected - dull as dishwater with a heavy dose of fawning from both sides about how wonderful both of them were, to one another. I wasn’t entirely sure why I had to be present, other than witnessing the spectacle and chewing, I didn’t have much to offer - and there were a few shows that I was behind on, and my “to read” pile of books was growing.

“Maxima,” hearing my name, I looked up to see my brother’s smirk growing and my Grandmother looking exasperated. “Am I interrupting some grand internal thought about curing cancer?” Nice, Grandmother, nice. “I didn’t think so.” Did they always have matching smirks or was I just imagining it? “Now that you’ve rejoined us at the table, perhaps you could join us in the conversation as well?”

Join them, alright. “Absolutely, Grandmother.” Pasting a smile on my face, and glancing down at my plate to be certain I was completely through with the meal that had been placed before me, I looked back up at the pair of them. “It really is such an honor that you’ve chosen to grace us with your obscenely tanned visage, and I’d be inconsiderate if I didn’t mention not completely healed, but most definitely well earned beaten face.” Smiling coming out in full and dare I say real bloom now that they were both having issues holding tight to their own smugness, I went on, “And Grandmother you’ve truly outdone yourself with dinner. I’m sure preparing the list of what you wanted the staff to prepare took a full ten minutes of your packed to the gills day of -” I squinted as I considered just what it was that she did while I went off to the family business and put out fires in the human resources department all day. “Well I’m sure it’ll come to me. Now that I’m finished, please don’t try to tempt me with Max’s favorite dessert,” I stood up and started my retreat, but not before one last parting shot. “Oh and Max?” He wasn’t smirking, but he was studying me like he was considering making our faces match a little better - “lock my bedroom door” definitely added to my mental list - “Give me the name and number of whoever gave you those bruises would you? I want to send them a gift.”

“And there were no family photos in the office?” Clay was going over Jensen’s contact with Maxima Alexander again - alright he was going over it for the fifth time, but it felt wrong to him. They were twins, fraternal sure, but didn’t all twins have some sort of connection?

“None,” the younger man was squinting behind his glasses trying to recreate what he’d seen in the office. “Wait, no, there was one.” He nodded and Clay thought that he’d known it, there had to be something. “It was of a really old man, and I’d asked who it was, and she smiled and said her grandfather.”

Damn it, he was dead too. The founder of the company she worked for, would probably own one day if she was in the line of succession, but definitely not the link they were looking for - fuck.

“There were no other pictures in the office?” Clay was grasping at straws at this point, he wanted, no he needed something that proved that this entire trip wasn’t a fool’s errand - again. It seemed like since that first face-to-fist with Max was lightning in a bottle, and everything after was just fucking nothing - all of Aisha’s connections and tips lead them on wild ass chases that had them coming ever closer to that end dance she promised was coming over the death he’d dealt her father, but damn if it was not leading them were they all wanted - to Max.

Jensen sighed and Clay perked up. “There were other pictures -” seeing his fearless and let’s be frank, scary as hell face show the signs that he’d been holding out on intel that was important to the mission, he sat up straighter and explained how inconsequential they were, “pictures of her and her friends. Maybe a boyfriend?”

He shrugged, shoulders sagging at the failure of his ability to dig further into Max’s sister’s life while he was in her office, and ohh boy had he wanted to dig harder and deeper into any part of her life, sister of the devil himself or not, she was an eyeful. “All I know is that the pictures were scattered and she looked way more relaxed in them and happier than she did trapped behind the desk wearing those heels and suit - even if she does rock the fuck out of both of them.” His eyes closed at the memory of how well she wore both of them, even if she was petite as hell, she managed to be both confident, intimidating, and welcoming - it was weird as hell after meeting Max.

It was Clay’s turn to sigh. Well shit, that didn’t help at all. “So we have Max, the sister, and grandma?” He slumped in his chair and felt the urge to throw something. “What’s the likelihood it’s the grandma?”

I made sure to lock my bedroom door, tossing off the outfit I’d been forced to redress in for a dinner I hadn’t wanted to participate in, I was tugging the pins holding up my hair when I heard the tell-tale notification sound warning me that I was being paged to a video call on my computer. Before I could start to curse anyone working late at the office, my brain engaged and realized the tone wasn’t a work one, but a personal one - grinning like a goofball I rushed to the desk situated in the office area of my suite and checked to be sure my t-shirt was covering my pertinent parts before hitting the answer button.

Two of my favorite faces popped up and then we were joined by the third - always late- one.

The greetings rang out as if we didn’t do this almost weekly, and I would have laughed, but I was still feeling the effects of dinner - and it was noticed.

“Where is your glass?” I’d completely forgotten that we were going to have our video chat and so I’d completely forgotten to grab a drink, but I was shocked that Maxwell had one in her hand - it must have been obvious on my traitorous face because she rolled her eyes and her husband - and my best friend since before we were potty trained came to the rescue.

“I found the best recipe for mock-tinis that has ever been devised,” Ezra swore, and I shook my head at his widening grin, and I knew his hand was cradling Maxi’s ever growing baby bump. “Do you honestly think we’d be down with prenatal alcohol consumption?” I’d forever envy his ability to arch his eyebrow the way only he seemed capable.

Cassie cleared her throat and earned an eye-roll from Maxi, “you’re deflecting, Mimi,” that got her a matching one from me. “Where’s your drinky-poo?” She raised her own glassful of what looked like champagne and I was tempted to do the time-difference mathematics to see just what time it was in whatever part of the world she was at this particular point in time - “Never you mind the time, another deflection won’t make us forget that you definitely forgot our togetherness time.” She pushed out her lower lip into a dramatic pout and I finally had to laugh - she was too ridiculous, but then again she had been since the first time we met in grade school.

“You’re right,” the sigh slipped out and Ezra’s eyes narrowed, he knew me like he knew the back of his hand. “Sorry, I was -”

“When did he get back?” Seriously, how did he know? “Clearly your evil twin is back in the family fold, not only did you forget the drink, but you’re wearing the shirt.” I glanced down and another sigh slipped out. Shit. I was. How did I not notice pulling it out? “So, how long?”

Groaning, I sat back in the chair, and told them what little I knew - feeling marginally better as I let the verbal diarrhea release from deep within me. “And then I got up from the table and asked him to give me the name and number of the guy who gave him the bruises because I wanted to send him a gift.” I shrugged and Ezra broke, laughing like he couldn’t hold back any longer - “I locked the bedroom door, changed out of my dinner clothes, and threw on what I thought was the first crap I grabbed,” my gaze me Ezra’s and we shared a knowing look, “that’s when you guys started ringing in -” another shrug.

“Wait,” Cassie was wide-eyed and I waited for her to gather her thoughts while she held up one finger and took a long drink from her champagne flute. “You asked Maxen for the number of the guy who beat his ass bad enough to leave him still bruised and battered even now when he shows up on Grandma’s doorstep, and that’s after you also basically told her that she sits on her pompous ass and does nothing other than write up the menu and -” she couldn’t go on, a snort slipped out and then she was sounding less ladylike than she’d ever pretended to be in her life.

“Damn, Mimi, I didn’t think you had it in you,” Maxwell was looking at me like she might be impressed. “After all these years of just taking all the crap that those two have handed you like it was candy during Trick or Treat, you finally took a bite out of them -” So much for a compliment, but then again, that was Max - and she was pregnant.

Ezra was still studying me, he was the one who’d known me the longest. The one who knew both Maxen and me, but he was the one who had stood by me, not Maxen. It was his shirt I was wearing, the other two had no idea, none - not even his wife - who he met thanks to me.

“You make sure the door is locked, that the balcony and patio doors are locked.” He wasn’t listening to the other women as they tittered, they clearly were of no concern at the moment. “You know that he knows how to pick locks and he knows that house as well as you do.” I nodded, the balcony was already on lockdown, I wasn’t as keen on using it during the cooler nights and was happy Maxen hadn’t chosen the warmer months to pop up.

Maxwell was looking back and forth between us, even through the computer camera I could tell she was trying to see what she was missing. “You two are acting like Maxen is going to do something crazy like -”

“Like stuff her in a trunk and hide the key?” Ezra hissed, clearly remembering the day a game of Hide and Seek went off the rails in a way that the two of us would never forget.

“The next question,” Pooch was staring at the folders that held what he knew was limited intel on Maxima - Max’s twin sister. “How do we get close enough to figure out what our next move is?”

Clay was wondering pretty much the same damn thing.

#the losers (2010) #Franklin Clay x OFC #alternative universe #eventual smut

[justjessame]

Falling For A Max: Chapter Two

Overall the day wasn’t a total loss, weird at parts, but not a loss. Joe Roque, if his background checked out was impressive on paper. And his knowledge seemed pretty advanced, far more than what their office would necessarily need, but he seemed interested and my position only entailed taking his information and running it while checking to see if we had any openings that he’d be the appropriate candidate they were seeking.

I managed to work through more issues - even diplomatically solving the paper clip issue - and totally pushed dinner out of my mind right up until the twelfth hour. Then my phone buzzed and I glanced down, wondering why anyone was bothering to message me on my cell while I was still in the office and saw an unfamiliar number, but when I unlocked the screen I knew immediately who it was and remembered exactly what was coming -

“Can’t wait to see you, baby sis,” the red tinge that came over my vision was completely normal for this time of day. At least that’s what I was telling myself as I forced myself to breathe through my nose - something I learned during a session that the office budgeted with a Yogi - I think that was what she called herself - during a wellness session.

Baby sis? He was older than me by barely two minutes. And that was only because he was always demanding more attention than anyone else in any room - I was sure. Come on, Mimi, get it out of your system before you get in the car and take it out on unsuspecting people sharing the road - or worse, before you get home and see his smug jerk face.

Jensen was blushing. How red could the guy get? Very, the answer to the question is very.

“What I’m asking,” Pooch was staring at the burning red face of their tech guru and hacker extraordinaire and wondering if he touched his face would he get burned? “How alike are they?”

Jensen shook his head, not completely unlike a puppy when it was wet. “They aren’t.” He was emphatic, eyes wide and staring around him like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “At all.”

Clay rubbed a hand down his face and pleaded with a clearly uncaring God for patience. “I’m not concerned with gender, Jens, I need to know if they have the same inner workings -” Is she evil mastermind part two, he was thinking, but he was the leader and asking about cartoon villainy was a tad much. “Does the sister seem like she has her fingers dipping in the same dark pools that her twin does?”

“I’m telling you,” Jake shook his head again, the flames that had burned her flesh so bright were dimming. “She’s nothing like him.” He’d been left alone in her office while she’d been called away to deal with some incident with feuding employees and he did a pretty thorough search through her desk, computer, and she’d even managed to forget her cell - nothing - not a single shred showing that she had any inkling of what her brother was into or that she had a part in any of it. He explained his reasoning and they were listening.

“Aisha,” no one blinked or groaned, Roque was gone, the dissent out the window, “her intel mentioned a connection.”

“How do we know it’s the sister?” Pooch asked. “He has other family, right?”

Clay considered this, he’d seen the jacket, so had the others. “Mother and father are dead, they were raised by their grandmother -”

“Isn’t she old?” Jensen, such tact in that boy. “I mean, monied yes, but she’s getting up there.”

“Leave no stone unturned,” Pooch offered. “You’re sure that it isn’t the sister,” he reminded his friend. “If it isn’t her,” he looked at Clay, “and the intel is good,” a nod, “ then we gotta look at nana.”

I made it home safely and even got all the way to my room without seeing anyone - including Grandmother. A hot shower and then I was dressed and almost ready to share space with Maxen Abalone (don’t blame me, blame my dead parents - Max and food, weirdos). I contemplated coming down with mysterious job related food poisoning - it could happen - but knew that my grandmother would be the type to just decide to move the meal into my room to share the experience or something far more horrifying.

Which is how I found myself coming face to face with my twin brother at the foot of the stairs with more grace than I felt, and hopefully with the red tinge that my vision still held hidden from my traitor face - He looked smug, but that was his usual visage so it was difficult to gauge just where his mood was - Max was always one mood swing away from snapping, so it was never easy to know where he was on the loop.

“Don’t you look,” he was eyeing me like choosing the most sensitive spot to slide a blade in. His eyes settled on my hair, a shade darker than his, subtle enough that people who didn’t know us would never really notice, but of course he did. “Darker.”

“So do you,” I was taking in his tan, fake or - I’d be afraid to guess - given that he was so careful to never tell us precisely what he did for “the government”. His smirk twitched, barely. “Take a vacation lately?” There were other marks, less tan, more - wait, had he taken a beating? I tilted my head closer to him, just in case Grandmother came sauntering in from the mist as was her usual. “What happened to you? It looks as if you met your match, Max.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the idea of it. My brother, the twin that I truly hadn’t wanted, a bully from the moment our mother shat him out had finally had someone smack the ever loving -

“Never mind,” he muttered, hearing the soft clatter of Grandmother’s slippers on the hardwoods. “Just know that I’m home.”

“For now,” I prayed.

#the losers (2010) #Franklin Clay x OFC #alternate universe #eventual smut

[justjessame]

Falling For A Max

Trying to run down the stairs while juggling my briefcase - sorry “business bag” - while attempting to check the messages that seemed to be coming in faster than I could read them and not trip over the heels that were necessary for the length of my suit’s pant legs was a feat that I was fairly proud of almost mastering.  If only my grandmother didn’t decide to interrupt my forward momentum -

“Maxima, darling?” Shit, shit, shit.  I almost skidded to a stop. Which nearly made me pitch forward, causing a dangerous nose-meet-floor situation - thank God I was almost at the foot of the stairs when she called out.  “Be careful,” she offered, staring down at me from her perch at the top, and I had to control a sigh from slipping out.  “You nearly tumbled down there.”  No kidding.  “I wanted to make sure that you were planning on eating dinner at home tonight?  Oh, I nearly shrugged at the banality of the question - dinner at home, what a worrisome query - but she followed it up with a reason that made the distraction of my phone pause - “Since your twin is coming home -”

“Maxen is coming here?” Her raised eyebrow told me all I needed to know about how she felt about my interrupting her mid-sentence, but she just threw me for a huge loop.  “Tonight?”  I wanted confirmation and a possible way out.  Perhaps all the way out of the country.  “I think I have -”

“You do not have plans, Maxima Ambrosia Alexander.”  Damn it, then why did she ask?  “I wanted to make certain that you knew your brother would be here, and that you’d behave yourself.”  My face and I were going to have to have a conversation about what it was allowed to say without my permission from now on.  “Since you have no plans, I expect you to be here and ready for –”  I agreed, mindlessly and without much enthusiasm - Work called, after all.

“I’ll be here,” stepping carefully down the final stairs, I told her goodbye and was on my way, finally.  

As I made my way out of the gates of our long driveway, I had to wonder - what was causing my darling twin brother to come crawling home from God knew where?  

“Are you sure we have the intel right on this?” Pooch was staring across the street from where they’d watched the small dark haired woman walk into the building juggling an expensive looking leather bag while staring intently at her cell phone with a furrowed brow and maneuvering through the pedestrians better than he’d seen some soldiers go through maneuvers wearing less and she was doing it in some scary looking stilettos.  

Clay sighed, feeling as comfortable standing in the open as Pooch sounded, but the intel was good - even after he and Aisha had crashed and burned, they still had a common goal - Max.  And the woman they were watching was his sister.  His twin sister to be absolutely clear.  Although, if he were being honest, watching her wind through the bodies while barely glancing up from her phone, yet not jostling anyone or losing her own footing in those sexy as hell shoes, he had to admit he was surprised that they shared blood. 

“Yeah, it’s good,” he murmured.  “Send him in.”  

Was sending Jensen in to make first contact the best idea? He thought so - Jensen wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Cougar could be, or as distracting if the female population following him around in Bolivia was any indication.  And this was just to get a feel for whether or not Max’s sister was fruit from the same tree, rotten.  

How do all these fires get set while I’m sleeping?  I couldn’t quite figure it out, but as I put them out, one by one, I could feel the strain from learning that the person I’d spent womb time with would be soon sharing oxygen with me - who knew that dealing with the daily log of personnel issues and public relations nightmares could actually be soothing?  

I was in the middle of reading an internal email detailing something truly riveting about how one of the administrative department members had the audacity to take paper clips from the supply closet designated to the tech department and was thinking of the best way to diplomatically tell the person who sent it to walk their sorry sad ass to the administration department supply closet and replenish the lost clips if it was really that upsetting when I looked up to see the cutest and most awkward looking monster sized dork of a guy I’d ever seen in the building. 

“Hello?”  Smiling, I wondered if I had an interview to conduct, but there wasn’t anything on my calendar, and nothing had popped up on my chat screen to warn me of a visitor - odd.  “Can I help you?”  Maybe he was lost.

“I’m Joe,” that’s great, which my face clearly telegraphed, because he rushed to go on.  “I was sent up to speak to you about applying for the IT department.”  

“They sent you up to speak to me about applying to the Information Technology Department?”  My disbelief was obvious, I hoped.  “Usually people apply online, or we tell anyone who walks in to go to the website found on the card that they are handed - on the first floor.”  

He looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t lose what stride he had, I’d give him that.  “Right, but I have plenty of experience,” my eyebrow shot up, I felt it.  “Which I wowed them with downstairs.”  

“And they just sent you up to me?”  I sat back in my chair and gestured to the seat in front of my desk, mostly because he was so tall and big that he was taking up too much space even close to the door - hovering bothered me.  “Well, Joe, tell me all about your experience.”  I pulled up a notepad and grabbed a pen. 

#the losers (2010) #Franklin Clay x OFC #alternate universe #eventual smut

[justjessame]

Silence: Chapter 16

What was that quote about being forewarned? I was trying to focus on remembering it - “Forewarned is for—” my brain was not cooperating and that meant that there was a good chance that my body, at the mercy of the tiny being inside of me, would be forced to tilt at a moment’s notice thanks to the overwhelming anger I was currently feeling - because I had been forewarned by Max that my darling Auntie Pam would be making an official appearance at the library’s “grand opening” - her words not mine.  

“Of course she is,” was my answer, but clearly my face and voice didn’t match the words, because Max looked as though she’d been slapped.  “I’m sorry, not it isn’t your fault, you’re simply the messenger.”  Sighing, I looked around the stacks and contemplated where Pam would deem best to situate a lectern for her to give a rousing speech, because she couldn’t simply appear - Milton’s in a position of power couldn’t simply be seen - Grandfather was never allowed that simple luxury.  Not even for a family dinner.  Trust me, I was at them.  

Seeing my struggle, Max’s discomfort grew as she handed me what was clearly a diagram of how my darling aunt expected her grand stand to appear - and I bit my lip.  This was a fucking library, for fuck’s sake.  “I see.”  It wasn’t Max’s fault, it wasn’t, and Pam knew that I wouldn’t show any form of displeasure I might feel for her unreasonable expectations to Max, not when it wasn’t her fault.  And if I didn’t show her, then I couldn’t possibly unleash them around my aunt, not if she was forever surrounded by other versions of Max.  Damnit.  

And so, she got her stage, but she got it outside, because I would not ruin the library for her grandstanding.  Nope, not even for her bullshit leader role.  Not today or any other day, Satan.  

I was still searching for the full quote though, up to the final minutes, hoping to keep the vertigo and by extension the puking at bay - for today at least.  After all, it was the first major step in showing the Commonwealth that there could be more than simply a false sense of what used to be.  That perhaps there could be a path forward, and maybe it could start with knowledge - not just here in the library, but with the small and subtle changes I planned on making at the school, but soon enough I hoped would grow larger, making the Commonwealth safer all around.  

“Forewarned is —” I might have been muttering to myself, hand absently stroking the small curve that was steadily growing beneath my loose blouse as I wandered through the stacks making certain that everything was in the right place, a loose book or a rogue paper could be an accident that would cause the end before the beginning, when Carol and her helpers found me. 

She offered the rest of my quote to me as a blessing and a curse, I swear.  “Forewarned is forearmed. To be prepared is half the victory.” My eyes blinked shut and I couldn’t believe that I forgot it. Of course it was exactly the right quote for the shitshow we were cursed with - top to bottom and before we even came across Auntie Pam.  “Sorry, did we interrupt?”  

Taking a deep breath and praying that she’d found the tables that I’d positioned as far from where I’d be for most of the day to hold her sweet treats, I chanced opening my eyes and realized she wasn’t holding boxes, but she did have company - and I knew them as well as I knew her.  

“Ah, good, I see you found the tables for your baked goods,” the smile came easier now that I could be sure that my little one wouldn’t lurch on me for assaulting their sensitivities with the horrors of sugar.  “And you’ve brought -” feigning ignorance when you have none is far more difficult when you also lack guile, yet Carol had no such issues, her mask was perfect and as I looked at who she’d brought along I was more shocked that the little people had the same perfect masks - in a different life and world it would have creeped me out entirely. 

She “introduced” me to the group and I smiled benignly through them all, feigning polite interest and reminding both those with children - Daryl and Jerry’s families being those I take most notice of - that the school event is coming next and that it’ll be imperative that they all come to that one too.  

“You’re really starting to show,” Carol murmured as I heard the sound coming from outside that meant that my aunt had arrived.  “Are you sure there’s only one -” 

Good God, I nearly tripped at the thought of having doubles inside of me, or holy crap more than two - luckily Daryl’s hand steadied my less than stable gait and I made it outside without tumbling over.  I heard the soft chuckle from behind me that told me Carol thought it was a little funny that she caught me off-guard, but damn it, that was mean.  Pamela caught my eye and waved me over to her and I felt the urge to search for a new quote to focus on - come on what was a hard one - as I walked to my doom.

“Welcome everyone,” somehow Auntie Pam had decided to open the show, not that I minded.  Honestly at this point I would be happy to go back inside and take a seat while I popped open a book and got lost in its pages, but that wouldn’t do - not for a Milton.  

As she went on and on about whatever it was that she felt appropriate for the occasion, I stood there barely listening until I heard my name - my full name.  

“Now that my niece, Elara Elizabeth Milton-Mallick, has returned to the family fold,” Jesus Christ, did I wander off on some missionary trip?  No, I went to work and the world ended while you went off and married Uncle Milton and pooped out my worthless cousin - congrats, we’re together again!  “And as she’s preparing to add another member to our bloodline-” Good God, what are we, a clan of vampires?  “She’s making a wonderful use of her education and talents by taking over the library and school system here in the Commonwealth -” My vision was blurring, but not with tears, I was pretty certain it was rage that was flowing through me, and my little beast inside wasn’t happy with the extra rush of hormones -

A staggering hit of dizziness and the world lurched, but before I could meet the ground face first, arms were steadying me and I was seated inside - Thank god for watchful guards, at least that’s what I thought, before I looked up and realized that Daryl had apparently rescued me before my nose touched grass.  

Carol was putting a cool glass of water in my hands before I could thank him, and she made me take a sip by telling me that I was both pale and green again - 

“This happen a lot?” Quiet and gruff, Daryl’s voice would never change.  I nodded, sighing once I’d had enough water.  “See a doctor yet?”

I would have laughed, but he was clearly serious.  “Yeah, I saw a doctor.”  Shaking my head, I took another drink, thinking if I was focused on water I didn’t have to talk.  Sadly it was a small glass and it was empty too soon.  “It happens if I eat or smell sugary stuff,” his eyebrows raised while he considered where I’d been standing, downwind and far away from the goody table.  “Or if I get irritated or upset.”  A flash of understanding crossed his face as he realized that it wasn’t what I smelled or ate, but what I heard that caused it.  “My aunt just outed me to the world - or the world inside the gates at least - without asking me first.”  

Daryl shrugged, but he didn’t know the full story.  Milton isn’t such an abnormal name, and so what, there’s former US President Milton, right?  Sighing, I figured I’d at least get it out of the way for the two of them - like a bandaid, rip it off, right?  

“My grandfather was former President William Milton.” The “O” that Carol’s mouth formed might have been funny if it wasn’t in regards to me and mine.  “Yeah, I’m from that branch of Miltons.”  

“Can see why you’d do a nose dive in the dirt,” Daryl was pretty elegant when he wanted to be.  “Her telling the world that ya were family and adding to the tree would piss me off too.”  He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, like he was standing guard over me.  “You got guards right?”  I snorted, of course I had guards.  “Me and Rosita are training for troop duty -”  Oh, I get it, why not have them as my guards?  

“I don’t know how to request -”  Squinting, I thought of Max and her brother.  “I may have a way, let me look into it.”  

He nodded and Max popped her head in the door.  “You’re being paged, Elara.”  

Of course I was, it was finally my turn at the podium, after all.  

Taking my time to get to the front of the group of waiting people, I took the “stage” and smiled at my darling aunt.  Offering a simple “bathroom break” as an excuse, she nodded and gave me a look that telegraphed the thought that perhaps I should have tried scheduling it better - good luck with that.  

“Pamela has already offered such a lovely welcome to you all that I won’t repeat her.  I want to simply let you all now that while I’m sure you knew the library existed and was available, now it is also offering other services and we’ll be adding more as ideas come to light - some I hope from you.”  I saw interest growing as people looked at one another.  “Right now I have schedules for children’s reading times by age groups, aloud of course, and I’m looking at a few adult book clubs - let’s get to know our neighbors and make some friends, shall we?”  More interest and murmurs.  “Not only that, but if you think of more - crafts, hobbies, or other ideas, come to me or one of the staff members here at the library and we’ll try to make things work to get it together.”  

“That being said, and I won’t keep you from what I’m certain are delicious treats made by the bakers at the bakery - even if my growing little one hates the very idea of sugar -” sympathetic groans came from all corners of the listening crowd.  “I want to remind everyone that you’re all invited to the event I’ll be holding at the school soon.  Not much in the curriculum will be changing, but I want every parent and guardian of the students who attend our educational system to know that I want to be available to you and your students if you have questions or concerns.  And as for the curriculum itself, aside from the regular classes that everyone is already encouraged to take, I will be adding other skills - and I hope to pull from some of those in attendance today if you are willing to volunteer your time that is - because the world we live in, even within the safety and sanctity of these walls, means that our children need more than the basics to thrive and grow into this new world.  But more on that soon!  Please, mingle and enjoy the treats - and story time will start in about fifteen minutes for the youngest group.”  

I could feel Pam’s eyes boring into my back, but I didn’t care.  I’d seen, from the looks of interest and approval in the eyes of those in attendance, that my announcements were welcome.  And I had -

“I wrote them in my report of the school and the changes I proposed.”  I told her as we were in a tense bubble in a corner while one staff member read to the 2-4 year olds and another worked to get through the new members’ requests for cards.  “You signed off on them.”  

She blinked at me as if I was lying.  “I’m sure I’d remember changes like survival skills and hand-to-hand combat -”

Sighing and feeling like the baby might want to puke all over her shoes, I rubbed a comforting hand over my bump hoping to calm both of us down.  “It isn’t my fault if you don’t recall what I wrote, Pamela.  I wrote it, you signed off on it.”  

She was trying to come up with a way around it, but another group of happy parents came up to say how happy they were that we were open to teaching more than simply the three “Rs” as they used to say and she had to bite her tongue, again.  I thought she might end up biting it off, but then she went in an entirely different direction. 

“I know that you and the baby aren’t currently enjoying sugar,” as if we were just mildly inconvenienced by it.  “However, Halloween is coming up and we tend to go rather heavy handed with it - this year is going to be especially special.”  Don’t roll your eyes or toss your proverbial cookies at her shoes, please.  “I know that you haven’t been able to come to family dinner for a while now,” thank you for that, baby, thank you so much for that.  “However, I’m going to have to insist that you come for this -”

“Dinner?”  I was confused, dinner on Halloween?  What was so important? Did I have to bob for the roast?  

“No, Elara,” she said it like she was bleeding patience with me, and the way I was feeling she might want to stop because she may soon just be bleeding.  “Halloween I’m throwing a masquerade ball, and because it’s a special event, you must attend.”  Of course, as a Milton, it was required.  

“Of course,” I looked up and noticed that the line had grown exponentially at the counter.  “If you’ll excuse me, I think Julia needs some help.” 

#the walking dead #unplanned pregnancy #negan x ofc #the commonwealth