#the dixons

In this section, Jane Fairfax makes an indirect dramatic (rather than referenced) appearance in Emma; she has, before this, been mentioned frequently enough to inspire the reader’s curiosity. Much of the effort at satisfying that curiosity will be directed at comparing and contrasting Jane and the novel’s heroine, as the novel’s structure seems to invite us to do (as well as its characters—consider Knightley’s accusation that Emma “saw in [Jane] the really accomplished young woman, which she wanted to be thought herself,” p. 107).

On the level of diction, Graham Hough points out that the “careful discriminations” used to introduce Emma at the beginning of the novel and Jane at the beginning of this chapter are “entirely similar”:

In these passages […] the material information is conveyed as briefly and simply as possible. That done, we find the predominant words are abstract nouns—affection, authority, enjoyment, misfortune, friendship, discipline, heart, understanding, disposition, education; or adjectives expressing moral and intellectual qualities—unexceptionable, generous, self-denying, useful, right-minded, well-informed, competent. […] In places where this kind of language is used dubieties and ironies are excluded. (p. 208)

On the level of narrative, Elizabeth Sabiston notes that “both Jane and Emma are in a sense launched into the world at the same time, Jane without the protection of the Campbells once Miss Campbell marries Mr Dixon, Emma without the indulgent care of Miss Taylor. The consequences of these two events, so apparently unrelated but both triggered by a marriage, subsequently are to become intertwined at Highbury” (p. 20).

Jan Fergus, however, points out that Jane and Emma are very dissimilar in point of material destiny.

The comedy of Emma’s many blunders about courtship does not entirely obscure a central fact: whenever readers look at almost any woman in Emma apart from the heroine, they encounter a sense of threat. […] Jane Fairfax is, of course, the worst off [of the threatened spinsters in the novel], for although she has for the present a home with the Campbells who educated her, that home is so insecure that Jane has resolved to renounce it for work as a governess, the only career possible for her […]. (p. 154)

Jane Fairfax’s insecurity figures not only as a function of her gender but also as a result of her orphaning. Commenters point out that orphans appear multiple times throughout Emma; Laurie Kaplan writes that

In Highbury, many of the mothers are dead and some of the fathers are missing. Motherless Emma, motherless and “adopted away” Frank Churchill, and motherless-and-fatherless (and also “adopted away,” to all intents and purposes) Jane Fairfax—these young people form an uneasy triumvirate of Highbury orphans, added to which there is Harriet, “the natural daughter of somebody,” as well as Mr. Elton (father dead), Mrs. Elton (parents dead; raised by an uncle), and even Miss Taylor (fatherless or motherless or both). (p. 237)

Kaplan also argues that word choices used in describing Jane’s situation invoke contemporary concerns about the status of abandoned children and hint at a still less pleasant fate than Jane’s:

The Highbury orphans—especially Harriet—are the lucky ones, considering the fact that thousands of unwanted children were abandoned each year in London in the eighteenth century. […] From its establishment, the Foundling Hospital was besieged by mothers who wanted to leave their babies. In total, 18,539 children were admitted between 1741 and 1799, but, even with care, almost two-thirds of these children died. The survivors were generally apprenticed (boys at the age of ten, girls at eleven); most of the boys joined the Army, while the girls were trained to be ladies’ maids.

[…] As the orphaned child of “an excellent officer and most deserving young man” killed while on military service, Jane, “the property, the charge, the consolation, the fondling of her grandmother and aunt,” would have been eligible for admission to the Foundling Hospital (emphasis added). (p. 242)

The Scotch and the Irish

Alistair Duckworth notes a strategy by which Austen “indicate[s] the prominence of subjectivity in experience by including in Emma a large number of characters who exist only as references in another character’s speech or thoughts” (in whose number he counts the Churchills, the Campbells, and Messrs. Martin, Larkins, and Perry; p. 160). Similarly, Margaret Doody, in an analysis of names and places in Austen’s fiction, writes that “Emma is extremely resourceful in producing faraway persons who do not appear directly or dramatically”; “visitors or new residents coming into Highbury,” Jane Fairfax included, have “their own individual halo of new associations” (p. 152).1

Doody points out the Scottish origin of Jane Fairfax’s friends’ name, writing that

Scots, mere apothecaries in Austen’s early fiction, become noticeably evident in her later fiction as able members of the armed services, like Crawford in the Royal Navy. Yet Colonel Campbell (and his no doubt Scottish wife) might be looked down upon by English officers and civilians.

[…] Such problems are brought openly into the conversation when Emma asks Mr. Knightley “about your friend Mr. Graham’s intending to have a bailiff from Scotland. . . . But will it answer? Will not the old prejudice be too strong?” (I, ch. 12). […] The “old prejudice” might even hamper Jane Fairfax, protégée of Campbells, in pursuit of employment in teaching. (pp. 152–3)

Regarding Miss Campbell’s marriage, Doody speculates that “Dixon may […] be relatively poor. Miss Campbell (neither beautiful nor highly talented) takes him on faith; they met at a resort. An Irish gentleman might seem more obtainable than an English one. The Campbells, much better off than the Bates family, are limited by what we would term their ethnic identity” (p. 153).

Curiouser and Curiouser

Throughout this section, Austen toys with our curiosity as to whether Emma’s “animating suspicion” regarding Jane and Mr. Dixon is correct. We are told, for example, that Miss Campbell is an heiress, and Jane Fairfax without an independence, soon before we are told that she, though less beautiful and less accomplished than Jane, has by “that luck which so often defies anticipation in matrimonial affairs, giving attraction to what is moderate rather than to what is superior, engaged the affections of Mr. Dixon” (vol. 2, ch. 2 [20]; pp. 105–6). This may alarm our suspicions, especially since this information is given in a voice which is presumably narratorial.

LeClair argues that the unresolved uncertainties in this section show Austen to be playing a game with her audience, resisting with “amused sophistication […] any attempt to impose on her text or appropriate it to some other text” (p. 126):

Austen continually reminds her readers, as well as the inhabitants of Highbury, that it is dangerous and even futile to assume that one is ever in full possession of the truth. […] [E]ven after multiple readings Austen still dangles tantalizing questions about meaning before us. Consider, for example, the narrator’s description of the Campbells’ response to Jane Fairfax’s decision to visit her grandmother rather than travel to Ireland with their extended family party. “The Campbells, whatever might be their motive or motives, whether single, or double, or treble, gave the arrangement their ready sanction.” Is this passage “mere mystification,” as Wayne Booth might say (255)? Are we dealing with a flawed narrator, someone who either doesn’t know or refuses to tell us what the Campbells’ motives are (and what would that say about other narrative comment in the work)? Is it possible for this passage to be taken at face value (and if so, how can we know what the Campbells’ treble motives might be?) Or is it simply meant as a joke on the “imaginist . . . speculation” [vol. 3, ch. 3 (39); p. 218] that is so characteristic not only of Austen’s heroine but of her readers’ attempts to fathom all possible levels of meaning in the story (and if so, is not the joke also on me)? (p. 125)

All Young Ladies Accomplished!?

The elaboration of Emma’s dislike for Jane Fairfax in this section is another occasion on which, as Marcia Folsom puts it, “Emma seems to be defending herself against the introjected voice of Mr. Knightley” (p. 46):

Emma can’t help remembering a stinging observation Mr. Knightley made once about her dislike of Jane Fairfax, citing Emma’s own inflated self-image as the source of her dislike. [Quotes from “Why she did not like Jane Fairfax” to “could not quite acquit her,” pp. 106–7.] This passage suggests that from time to time Emma’s mind allows her to glimpse her behavior judicially, and, with her own conscience as a judge, find that she is unable to “acquit” herself of some accusations. (p. 47)

Miguel Jordán and Sarah Kearns note that, from the beginning of the novel, “the name of Jane Fairfax is accompanied by Emma’s critical judgments”; it is only in this section that she “questions the motivation of her dislike of Jane” (p. 246). Jordán and Kearns, like Folsom, seem to be in accord with Knightley’s judgement:

The figure of Jane Fairfax is a reproach to the conscience of Emma, who can not help but recognize the superiority of a girl with fewer means. Miss Woodhouse’s security and self-complacency reel when she sees in someone else what she could have achieved had she been more consistent. That’s why it’s so unbearable for Emma to hear Miss Bates talk about her niece and the letters she has received from her, while she has no problem listening to Mr. Weston doing the same thing about his son, Frank Churchill (McGraw 2015). (ibid.)

Footnotes

See also Tsomondo: “These temporal sequences [of visits from outside Highbury” are Austen’s means for expanding Highbury’s geographical and psychic space […]. Through this strategy, the novelist deepens the text’s discourse. Places and characters that are not part of the story crowd the pages of the narrative. Mrs. Churchill and Enscombe, the Hawkinses and Bristol, the Sucklings and Maple Grove, the Campbells and London, the Dixons and Ireland—all are agents of crises, delays, meetings, partings, releases, disappointments. In their very absence these characters and sites implant Highbury with a subtle but inescapably unsettling presence” (p. 192).

Discussion Questions

What is the narrative, thematic, or psychological purpose of the motif of insecurity and orphaning in Emma? Why has Austen chosen a heroine who is more financially secure than her secondary characters?

Is there relevance in the nationality of the Campbells and Dixons, or in Emma’s comment (thrown out in the attempt to distract from a brewing argument) about “the old prejudice”?

How blameable is Emma in her dislike of Jane? Is Knightley correct in his analysis of Emma’s motives? What do we think of Knightley, given his opinion about the relationship between the two women?

Bibliography

Austen, Jane. Emma (Norton Critical Edition). 3rd ed. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, [1815] 2000.

Doody, Margaret. Jane Austen’s Names: Riddles, Persons, Places. Chicago: University of Chicago Press (2015).

Duckworth, Alistair M. “Emma and the Dangers of Individualism.” In The Improvement of the Estate: A Study of Jane Austen’s Novels. Baltimore, ML: John Hopkins Press, 1971, pp. 145–78.

Fergus, Jan. Jane Austen: A Literary Life. Houndmills: Macmillan, 1991.

Folsom, Marcia McClintock. “Emma: Knowing Her Mind.” Persuasions 38 (2016), pp. 41–55.

Hough, Graham. “Narrative and Dialogue in Jane Austen.” Critical Quarterly 12.3 (1970), pp. 201–29. DOI: 10.1111/j.1467-8705.1970.tb02333.x.

Jordán, Miguel Ángel and Sarah Rose Kearns. “Emma Woodhouse: Heroine or Antiheroine?” Research Journal of English Language and Literature 6.4 (2018), pp. 238–52.

Kaplan, Laurie. “Emma and ‘the Children in Brunswick Square’.” Persuasions 31 (2009), pp. 236–47.

LeClair, Annette M. “Owning Her Work: Austen, the Artist, and the Audience in Emma.” Persuasions 21 (1999).

McGraw, Patrick. “The World Is Not Theirs”: The Plight of Jane Fairfax in Emma.” Persuasions 37 (2015), pp. 218–25.

Sabiston, Elizabeth Jean. The Prison of Womanhood: Four Provincial Heroines in Nineteenth-Century Fiction. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 1987.

Merle smirked when she answered. “About quarter to five. Day starts when the sun comes up round here. Got some breakfast for ya and the little one at the house.” Nora let out a yawn and told Merle they would be up in a few minutes. She helped Anna, who was still half asleep, get up and dressed for the day. She ran a brush through the little girl’s curly locks and tied it back with a blue bow, then got herself dressed. When they reached the kitchen, Merle was already sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee, and looking through the paper.

“There’s some oatmeal on the stove.” He said as they came through the door. Nora opened a couple cabinets before she found the bowls. She spooned some of the lumpy stuff into each and brought them back to table to join Merle. While they ate, Merle explained to them about how things ran around the farm. He tended to the fields most of the day, which left the things that needed to be done in and around the house unattended. That’s what he wanted Nora to handle. They could have Sundays off, like him. How thoughtful she thought as Merle listed off some of the things he wanted done.

“What about me?” Anna asked.

“Huh?”

“You have a job, and Mama has a job. I wanna job!” She quipped, while finishing the last of her oatmeal. Merle watched as the little girl looked up and smiled at him. He wasn’t a soft man, but he figured as long at these two were staying here, he could appease the kid by giving her a job.

“Alright, ya wanna job?” Merle scratched his stubbled chin while he thought. “I think I got somethin for ya.” They placed their dishes in the sink, Nora making note that she would have to clean them later, and headed out back. They walked past the barn, King joining them, and stood in front of a wooden rectangle with a door at the end. The structure was enclosed with wire and inside was a plank of wood that led into what looked like a small house. Loud clucking was coming from within. Anna giggled as Merle told her her job would be to collect the eggs in the morning. He told her to follow him in the coop, Nora watched with King from the outside.

“Right, out here is where the hens eat. There’s a sack of feed sittin in the barn with a bucket next to it, I’ll show ya how ta feed ‘em later.” Merle told Anna as they stood in the grassy square inside the coop, a few chickens roaming around. He motioned the little girl forward towards the little house and they walked in. On both walls were two rows of squares with flaps on the front of them. Merle walked towards one and lifted the flap up. Inside was a hen, cozily nestled up in a straw bed.

“Sometimes they won’t be in the nesting area so ya can just pick up the eggs. But when they are,” Merle reached one hand towards the hen and stuck it underneath the blob of red feathers. “ya just stick ya hand in like this, and ta-da!” He removed his hand from the chicken and with it came one brown egg, covered in some droppings. Anna let out a nervous giggle as she watched Merle. She wasn’t so sure about sticking her hand under a chicken. Merle asked if she wanted to try. She nodded nervously, never one to back down, and walked towards him and the hen.

“What if it bites me?”

“She ain’t gonna bite ya. Ya just gotta be real gentle, like this.” Merle took Anna’s small hand and guided it towards the hen. “See, she won’t bother ya. She’s use to it.” He let go of her hand and let Anna grab the other egg that was underneath. When she pulled it out, Anna’s face lit up with a huge grin. Merle smiled back and asked if she wanted to try again. Getting over her fear quickly, Anna agreed. Once they had filled up a tiny bucket, Anna grabbed a few of the eggs and ran out of the coop to show Nora. In her excitement, King ran up and began jumping around at every step Anna took. Before Nora could get the dog away, he managed to get a paw on Anna’s arm and pull her down, eggs cracking in her arms. King started lapping up the yolk before Nora and Merle shooed him away. Nora helped her daughter get back on her feet and started wiping away the tears forming in the girl’s eyes.

“I’m….I’m sorry!” She blurted out looking at Merle, her face starting to turn red.

“Oh kid, it’s fine, ain’t your fault. That dumb dog will do anything to get to them eggs.” Merle found himself reasoning with Anna, hoping she wouldn’t spill anymore tears. He didn’t know why he felt so guilty about it. Nothing terrible had happened, but still, the kid was so excited about the eggs and when he saw the look on her face after they broke, he wanted to make her feel better. “ ‘Sides, we still got the ones in the bucket.” He rasped, handing the pail to Nora and smiling. “Ya don’t wanna wash those till ya ready to use em, the muck on em keep them good.” Nora nodded in response. “And you,” he said pointing to Anna. “you gotta make sure you wash up good after gettin those eggs. Don’t want ya gettin sick, alright. You did good today, kid.” He patted Anna on the head. After showing the girls where the feed was located in the barn, Merle excused himself to head out towards the fields.  

****

Nora spent most of the morning and early afternoon cleaning up the wrap around porch. Merle, in his time alone, had managed to pile up a collection of odds and ends from around farm, failing to return anything from where it belonged. Nora and Anna took guesses as to where everything went, but at least someone could walk around the entire porch without having to move something from their path. Piles of dirt were left in the aftermath, and Nora located a broom from a closet in the hallway of the house to sweep it off. She worked up quite a sweat by the time she had made it to the front of the house. Nora paused to stretch out the kink in her back that had formed from hunching over the broom as a warm breeze blew over her face. It wasn’t much to cool her off, but Nora found herself enjoying the fresh air. The quick break was interrupted when a ring from inside the house sounded. Nora opened the screen door and briskly walked down the hall to the kitchen where a green rotary phone sat. Unsure of how to answer, Nora cleared her throat as she picked up the receiver.

“Uh, Dixon residence.”

“Who is this?” A gravelly, deep voice answered on the other end.

“Who is this?” Nora countered back at the voice. Silence fell on the line for a few seconds, each one waiting on the other to speak up first.

“Daryl. Where’s Merle?”

“Daryl? Your Merle’s brother right?”

“Yeah, where is he? And who are you?”

“Merle’s out back in the fields right now,” said Nora, lightening her tone after she realized who she was talking to. “I’m, the uh, uh new assistant? I guess you could say. My name is Nora.”

“Merle hired a woman?” Daryl asked in disbelief. “Well listen, I’m gonna be stoppin by later tonight. Thought I’d give the asshole a heads up first.”

“Oh, well I’ll be sure to let him know. I…I guess we’ll see you then.” Daryl grunted in response before hanging up. Yep, definitely a Dixon. Nora thought as she hung up the phone. Staring out the window, she could see Merle’s silhouette in the distance. Figuring she should tell him now rather than later about his brother, Nora walked out the kitchen door and towards the fields. Their exchanged lasted less than a few minutes, with Nora informing Merle about Daryl and Merle responding with the same brief grunts she had become familiar with. Heading back to the house, Nora spotted Anna on the porch with King and asked if she wanted to help prepare for dinner.

Nora rummaged through the refrigerator to see what kind of food Merle had while Anna washed her hands at the sink. A couple of onions, some ground beef, stale bread, and some seasoning is all she could round up. Gonna have to go to town. She brought all the ingredients to the island and asked Anna if she could clean off one of eggs she had collected from the morning. Nora thought she had remembered how to put together a meatloaf from her days as a waitress. Occasionally, when the restaurant was dead, the cooks in the back would let her watch them create items on the menu. Nora dumped the meat into the bowl, diced up the onions, put some seasoning in, then the bread. She let Anna crack the egg in the bowl and mix the ingredients with her hands. Once everything formed together, Nora found a baking pan to dump the mixture in and stuck it in the oven.

While the meatloaf cooked, Nora and Anna finished cleaning off the rest of the porch. When they were done, they settled down in the front lawn on blanket with their art supplies, and King. Anna was using her crayons to create a portrait of the dog, when the humming of an engine drew near. A ’59 Triumph made its way up the gravel road, leaving a path of dust in its wake. A man in a leather jacket and brown hair guided the bike over to where Merle’s truck and Nora’s car were parked. His hair was longer than most men’s, wisping just enough in the front to cover part of his eyes. When Nora did catch a glimpse of them though, there was no denying those blue eyes were the same as Merle’s, those were Dixon eyes. Nora rose from the blanket, smoothing out the skirt and blouse she was wearing, and walked the few feet left between her and the man to greet him.

“You must be Daryl, right?” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Nora, nice to meet you.” Daryl’s beady eyes looked over Nora. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he had gotten off the phone earlier in the day. No woman had ever been on the farm since Merle took over, save for the occasional bar bimbo he would bring home from the town next door. Daryl thought Merle might have finally lost his marbles and let one stay when Nora answered, but glancing over the young woman and girl sitting behind her, clearly that idea was the farthest thing from the truth. He reached his hand out to shake Nora’s.

“Daryl. Who’s the blondie?” He asked pointing to Anna, who was staring intently at the both of them.

“Oh. That’s my daughter, Anna.” Nora called her daughter over to them and introduced her Daryl. “Sweetie, this is Merle’s brother.”

“Are you Merle’s big brother.”

“Hell nah. Merle’s older than the dirt on my boots.” Responded Daryl, a smile appearing on his face. “You got any siblings? Older brothers?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Daryl returned his attention back to Nora. “Merle out back?”

“Yeah, he is. But I think he should be done soon.” She glanced down at her watch to check the time. “At least he did yesterday, just in time for…Oh shoot!!” Nora excused herself from Daryl, realizing she had lost track of time since putting the meatloaf in the oven. She grabbed the hand towel hanging from the oven door and reached in to grab the pan. It didn’t look too bad from what she could tell, the top darker in some areas than the other. Nora let it rest on the counter, while she prepared some green beans as a side. Eventually, both Dixon brothers made it into the house. Merle trailed off to hop in the shower, while Daryl offered to help Nora set the table. When Merle appeared again a few minutes later, all four sat down to enjoy the meal. Merle was the first to dig in, sticking a big hunk on his fork and in his mouth. Crunching some of the meat up with his teeth, he forced himself to swallow. He looked over at Nora.

“The hell is this?”

“Meatloaf.” Said Nora. Merle let out a scoff at her reply.

“This ain’t meatloaf. It’s crunchy and don’t taste like anything. Ya told me ya could cook.”

“I can cook!” Nora paused. “I just, never said I was very good at it.”  

“Oh, so ya telling me ya lied to get the job?”

“No!” Growing tired of Merle’s constant attitude, Nora fought back. Daryl and Anna watched in silence, their eyes following from one to the other, like a tennis match. “I’m saying if you want such a fine dining experience, do it yourself!” She threw her napkin down on the table and walked out the door, leaving the other three behind. How that man got under her skin she didn’t know. She had met her fair share of assholes in her life, it was only natural after being an unwed mother, but Nora always managed to brush it off. She had more important things to worry about than others talking behind her back and criticizing her, but Merle, Merle was different and that frustrated Nora. She was heading back towards the shed to cool off when she noticed another dirt path, near the fields. Merle had never pointed it out. It started at the edge of the fields where it met the woods, covered in sparse grass and some leaves that had fallen. Curious, Nora followed the path, the sunlight fading some the deeper she went into the woods.

Feeling like the path led to nothing except more trees, Nora was just about to turn around when she saw the dirt turning into a soft mass of grass up ahead. The sunlight breaking through again as she left the shade of the trees, Nora’s eyes widened as a small pond appeared in front of her. On the opposite side of the pond stood a tall willow tree, its cascading branches flowing softly in the slight breeze. Nora was stunned to find such a beautiful place on the Dixon farm. She wondered if Merle even knew it existed, or even cared. Taking in her surroundings, Nora slowly walked around the pond to the tree. The ground underneath felt so much softer here, she was half tempted to slip her shoes off, and let her bare feet relax under the cool touch of the long grass. She reached her hand out to the branches of the willow and moved them ever so slightly to enter the quiet fortress. Immediately all of her anger and frustration seemed to melt away. Nora sat at the base of the tree, feeling like she had disappeared to another place. The fight she had just had felt like days ago as she stared at the bizarre patterns of sunlight that peeked through the willow’s branches. She closed her eyes for what felt like a few minutes and opened them when she could hear the crickets begin to call. The light was fading from underneath the tree and Nora figured she should head back to the house, realizing she had left Anna under the care of the Dixon brothers. She made note to come back to her little spot with Anna in the future, knowing her daughter would love it.

When Nora reached the back of the house, she found Merle and Daryl sitting on the steps, while Anna stood in front of them, recounting to Daryl about the egg disaster that morning. Merle’s eyes flickered over to Nora when he saw her in the distance. His gaze never shifted as he watched her make her way up to them, the soft curls in her hair glowing in the falling sunlight. He didn’t utter a word when she stopped in front of them and joined Anna and Daryl in their egg discussion. A few minutes later, Nora walked between Daryl and Merle up the steps to head to the kitchen, Anna asking where she was going.

“To clean up the dishes. I’m assuming no one finished their meals?” She huffed out.

“They done.” Merle’s voice came back.

 “What?”

“The dishes, I did ‘em.” Daryl looked over at Merle and kicked his boot. Merle rolled his eyes. “Alright fine! Daryl and me. We cleaned ‘em.”  Shocked at his statement, Nora turned back around and down the steps to look at the two brothers.

“Oh, uh, thank you. Both of you.” Daryl smiled and nodded his head, while Merle let out a mumbled grunt.

“Well, uh, if there’s nothing else, I think me and Anna will head back now. Let you two catch up.” They exchanged goodbyes and Anna waved back at the men as her and Nora walked away.

“Cute kid.” Daryl said as he reached in his pocket to pull out a cigarette and matches.

“Mmm.” Merle took the pack from his little brother and lit up his own. He took a deep drag and let the tension that had been building inside him out with his breath. Daryl looked at his brother, wondering what kind of situation he had walked into today.

“So, why’d ya hire her?” He asked. Merle took another puff of his cigarette and shrugged his shoulders.

“Dunno. She needed a job. Looked desperate. Gotta take care of that little girl.”

“Yeah, but the others you’ve hired have been out in the fields. Doin the dirty work. Ya got her here cookin for ya?”

“So?” Merle glared at his brother, getting annoyed at his interrogation.

“So, just never figured ya hire a woman.”

“Is it so hard to believe I can be a good person and hire someone who needed help? Huh, baby brother?!” Merle threw his cigarette to the ground, and smashed it under his boot as he got up and turned to look down at Daryl.

“Ya like her?”

Merle sighed, knowing Daryl wasn’t going to let this conversation go.

“Yeah, I mean she and the kid are nice enough.”

“No. I mean, ya like her?” Daryl questioned. “She’s pretty.”

“What? No! Jesus, Daryl! She only showed up here the other day.” Daryl tried to hide the smirk forming on his face. Merle may have been a lot of things, but subtle and hiding his emotions, were never his strong suit.

“Just saying, if anyone else pulled what happened in the kitchen on ya, they’d be outta here before their ass reached the ground.” Daryl stood up and put his cigarette out. “Just thought ya mighta liked her.” He shrugged, knowing it was better to end the conversation than get Merle worked up more.  “Anyway, I’m gonna head up. I’m beat from the drive out here.” Daryl turned to walk in the house, thinking to himself what an idiot Merle was.

“Hey, mister. Whatcha cryin’ for?” A voice broke the silence.

Merle Dixon hadn’t expected for someone to find him with tears streaming down his face. He had taken the brunt of his daddy’s beatings that morning and he just wanted to be alone for a while.

“Hey, didn’t ya hear me? Whatcha cryin’ for, mister?” The voice asked again.

Great. He thought Just what I need a little brown-haired snot nose to follow me around. I should just ignore her and maybe she’ll take the hint.

‘’Kay then.” She said again, her hazel eyes wide as she stared at him, “But it’s my crick so I’m gonna play in it.”

She shrugged and walked past the rock he was sitting on. Walking to the edge, she took her shoes off and stepped around in the water.

“My family mutt kicked the bucket.” Merle finally spoke, saying the first thing that came to his mind.

“Did you flush ‘eem down the toilet?” She asked him.

“What?”

“That’s what we did when my goldfish died. We flushed ‘eem down the toilet.” She twirled her finger in the air and mocked flushing sounds.

“No!” Merle laughed loudly, “He wouldn’ta fit in a toilet. We had ta put ‘eem in the ground.”

“Oh!” The girl nodded, wisely, “Tha’s what we had ta do with Aunt Dorothy.”

Merle laughed again as the little girl started splashing around in the water again.

“What’s yer name, kid?” Merle asked her.

“Charlotte.” She smiled proudly.

“Charlotte, huh?” He smiled back, “I’m Merle.”

“That’s not a kid name!” She giggled, “You’re a bigger kid ‘n me but you’re still a kid!”

“Well. why’d yer parents give ya an alien name? Yer not an alien are ya?”

“Charlotte’s not an alien name!”

“I don’t know it sounds like one ta me. I’d check with your parents if I were you. I gotta go though. See you around, Charlotte.” Merle stood up and left his small, new friend to splash around in the creek.

----- Time Happened -----

“Hey again, mister.” Charlotte’s voice startled Merle from a nap.

“It’s Merle, remember?” Merle replied without opening his eyes, a smile crossing his face, “And I’m nappin’ if ya don’t mind.”

“I do.” Charlotte replied, dragging out her Os, “Why d’ya always come to my crick? Don’t ya got yer own or somethin’?”

“Oh, sure I do.” He said with sarcasm, “I got me a real big crick with little fish and a tiny footbridge where I do all my courtin’. I just like yours better.”

“What’s courtin’?” She asked her, the sun glinting off of her eyes.

“It’s somethin’ adults do when they find someone as stupid as them to make mistakes with.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“That it does not, kid.”

“Want some candy, Merle?” She asked him, holding out a paper bag.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He said, putting his hand in the bag and taking a handful of random candy.

She sat beside him in the grass and watched the sunset.

----- Time Happened Again -----

“Merle?” Charlotte poked her head out of her new treehouse to see the tall, lanky boy tossing rocks into the creek.

“Hey, Charlotte.” He replied in his thick drawl.

“Whatcha doin’?” She asked him, confusion painting her voice.

“Nothin’, just was bored at home.” He said, his body still turned away from her.

“You wanna come see inside my new treehouse? It’s pretty neat!” She told him, excitedly.

“Not today, Char.” He said, his shoulders dropping as he answered her, “Maybe another day, huh?”

“Stop bein’ stupid and get on up here.” She told him.

With a sigh, Merle turned towards his younger friend and flinched as he heard her gasp.

“Friend, what happened to your lip? And your eye?” Charlotte said, her voice rising in panic.

“Ah, nothin’” He told her, thinking quickly, “ Cleanin’ the garage and a shelf fell over on me. Got banged all up.”

Charlotte eyed him suspiciously, not sure if she believed what he was saying. She may be young but she wasn’t stupid.

“Well,” She said, throwing down the ladder to her treehouse. “Get up here’n get cleaned up. I got a first aid kit. It’s usually boys not allowed but I’ll make an exception this time.”

Merle ran his hair through his hair as he grabbed the first rung of the ladder and made his way up.

----- More Time Happening, It Does That -----

“I told my mom I didn’t want ta wear the dress anyway!” Charlotte was sitting one of the chairs in her treehouse as Merle looked through her first aid kit for band-aids, “I mean seriously. She knew I was coming out here to play. Playin’ for me means mud’n bugs’n rocks’n stuff.”

The white sundress that her mom had made her wear was covered in muddy water from her knees down and she had a large, bloody scratch on her left calf.

“Here ya go.” Merle handed her the anti-bacterial gel and a band-aid, “Almost didn’t find one a those.”

“Yeah, I’m getting kinda low on ‘em.” Charlotte pointed out as she took care of the scratch. “If my best friend wouldn’t stop bein’ so clumsy then I might not have to replace ‘em so much.”

“You’re clumsy,” Merle told her, a weary smile on his face.

----- Some More Time Passing By -----

“How long will you be gone this time?” Charlotte asked, drawing in the mud with a stick.

“Few months.” Merle told her, running his hands through his hair, “Shit. I really fucked up this time..”

“Ya keep doin’ that ‘n yer gonna go bald by the time yer thirty.” She said, chuckling nervously.

He forced a smile on his face, showing his appreciation for what she was trying to do but nothing would lift his spirits. All he could do was thinking about leaving his little brother alone with his dad while he spent more time in juvie. Why did he keep making dumb decisions?

“It’s been a year since yer mom, Merle.” Charlotte said, not raising her voice above a whisper, “I don’t want you to keep going away like this.”

“I know, Char. It’s just something inside me, I guess. I can’t stop myself sometimes.” He told her, sadly.

She nodded, willing herself not to cry.

“Wanna come up ‘n watch The Goonies?”

“How many times ya gonna make me watch this one?”

“‘Til I get sick of it and find somethin’ else ta torture ya with.”

He laughed and they both got quiet for a minute.

“Friends forever?” He asked her, finally.

“Friends forever.” She replied, her voice wavering.

----- Time Keeps Slippin’ Into The Future, As They Say -----

“Hey, friend.” Charlotte hung her head upside down out the door of her treehouse, “Wanna come up ‘n watch a movie with me?

“Charlotte…” Merle sighed.

“Always so serious.” She said, lowering the pitch of her voice and mocking him. It was her defense mechanism to make him cheer up. Sometimes it even worked.

“I’m tryin’ ta talk to ya about somethin’ here.”

“Scream first, talk later.” She told him, batting her eyelashes.

“Am I missin’ somethin’?” He looked up at her confused.

She sighed, “Wes Craven’s 1996 slasher classic Scream. Come on!”

“Sure, whatever.” He told her, “Eventually I’m gonna talk to you about this whole marine corps situation.”

“I don’t want you to go away.” She said, seeming her age, “And you won’t ever come back.”

“That’s the idea.”

“You’ll forget about me.”

“Not a chance, kid.”

“Friends forever?” She asked him, her voice full of worry.

“Friends forever.” He replied, pushing her head up so he could climb into the treehouse with her.

----- If I Could Put Time in a Bottle… This Would Still Be a Time Jump -----

“What the fuck do ya think yer doin’?” Merle yelled running towards the group of boys gathered on the road.

“Teachin’ this chick a lesson!” The oldest looking one said, taking a few steps towards the interrupter and looking up to meet his gaze.

“What the hell is wrong with you, boy?” Merle said, snarling, “That there’s a lady. Ya never push a lady.”

“We do that one.” Another boy spoke up, pointing down to Charlotte on the ground beside him, “She ain’t like other girls.”

“Yeah.” Merle replied, walking over and helping his friend to her feet, “That’s ‘cause she’s got more smarts than the whole tangle of you assholes. Ya’ll run on home and leave her alone ‘fore I feed ya to my dog.”

“Ah, hell, Merle.” Charlotte told him, dusting herself off as she watched the boys run away, “I coulda took ‘em on my own.”

“No doubt in my mind ‘a that, sugar, but they need taught some manners anyhow.”

“Punchin’ ‘em in the throat woulda taught them rightly enough.”

“I’m sure it woulda.” Merle said, laughing loudly.

“It’s gettin’ ta be ‘bout time.” She looked at him, a serious look crossing her face.

“I know.” Merle said, the smile leaving his face as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Well, you should be gettin’ back to Daryl.” She hesitated for a moment before leaping at him and pulling him into a hug.

Merle held his arms above him, unsure of what to do.

“Friends forever?” She asked into his stomach.

“Friends forever.” He repeated, giving in and putting his arms around her.

----- Let’s Do the Time Warp Again -----

“Why can’t you guys just stay with my family? They’ve always said they don’t mind.” Charlotte asked, finally allowing herself to cry.

“I’m not taking a handout, Charlotte. We’ve been over this.” Merle told her, her tears making him uncomfortable.

“What about Daryl then? Yer just going to leave him with-” She stopped speaking, looking at him with her eyes wide not wanting to finish the sentence.

“With what, Charlotte? Go ahead ‘n say it!” Merle spat. “I know yer not stupid.”

“Merle…”

I know ya know.” His voice falling to almost a whisper, “Ya’ve known since the first day ya saw me.”

“I wasn’t sure til the black eye!” She called, furiously, “But, yer right. I ain’t stupid ‘n yer dad’s a fuckin’ monster! Yer leavin’ yer brother with a lunatic!”

“Yeah, I ‘spose I am.” He replied, his voice calm, “But he’s old enough ta take care of himself. I taught him ta hunt ‘n track. ‘N Merle;s gotta start takin’ care of Merle.”

“What about me then? Yer my best friend. Hell, yer my only friend.”

“Yer my only friend, too.” He told her truthfully, a solemn look crossing his face, “‘N I’m gonna come back here an’ visit but I hafta get outta here ‘fore that man kills me.”

A choking sound left his throat as his shoulders shook with sobs. It was the only time that Merle Dixon was going to allow himself tears. This one time in front of her and then when he left he’d allow his heart to harden. He would not feel sorry for himself. He would not worry about Daryl. He would find a new life in the military and mold himself into something better.

Charlotte stepped forward to hug him and he returned the gesture.

“I know.” She told him, quietly. “I’m just being selfish. I don’t know how… I don’t know what’s coming next.”

“Everything. Yer whole damned life is out there.” He told her, drying his eyes, “Ya need anything, ya find Daryl. Okay?”

“I will.”

“Friends forever?” He said, straightening up and stepping out of the hug.

“Friends forever.” She returned.

----- And then time passed, adulthood came, and life goes on -----

----- And then came the zombies -----

“Easy does it, girl.” A deep, rattly voice spoke behind Charlotte as someone pointed a gun at Andrea’s head, “Mine’s a whole lot biggerin’ yers.”

Charlotte, Andrea, and Michonne were frozen in the spot, wishing that they would’ve j left the area while they still had a chance.

“Now put down yer weapons.” The voice demanded.

“That’s it.” The speaker continued once they complied, “Nice ‘n easy. Lemme see yer hands.”

All of their arms went up slowly.

“Now spin ‘round.” The next order came, “That’s it. Nice little twirl ‘round.”

The three of them turned to face the man speaking and Charlotte immediately felt faint. She made a choking noise. Years had passed and the world had changed but she knew the man who stood before them. She would never forget the face from the best part of her childhood.

It took everything in her not to rush forward and put her arms around him but the new world had changed her. Made her careful, Made her untrusting. She couldn’t be sure he was the same person. She certainly wasn’t. Besides, if he had recognized her at all he was hiding it well. His eyes flicked over her quickly and back to Andrea.

“Oh, holy shit!.” Merle said, smiling at Andrea, “Blondie?! Damn! You look good, Now how’s about a hug for your old pal, Merle?”

In no time, the three of them were blindfolded and taken on a long truck ride only to end up in some kind of a hospital room. A man who called himself The Mayor told them they would be free to leave in the morning but with the Biters wandering around they wouldn’t be permitted to leave when it was dark outside.

Charlotte wasn’t really listening, if she was honest, she was more concerned with the way Merle had ignored her, She was convinced that he either didn’t remember her or didn’t care. Either way she wasn't going to say anything. She was, however, curious as to how he knew her blonde friend. It was a small world. Getting smaller every day.

The lump in her throat was getting hard to swallow again. Should she say something? Did he recognize her? Did he ever remember her? It was a horrible thought for her to imagine that her he could’ve just forgot her. That maybe she had meant nothing to him.

“Charlotte?” Michonne was speaking to her.

“Yeah?” She. said, looking towards her.

“Phillip was speaking to you.” Andrea said weakly.

“Oh, sorry.” She replied quietly before looking over at The Governor, “What was that?”

“I was just sayin’ to the girls that the sick one would have to stay here. Mr. Dixon has kindly offered to take one of you on his couch for the night and it looks like you’re the lucky one.”

“Oh.” Charlotte looked down at her feet,  “O-okay.”

The Governor took her nervousness for hesitation, “I know you have no reason to trust us and, hell, girl the size of you I’d be leary stayin’ on that man’s couch too but I assure you he’s completely trustworthy.”

She smiled to herself, ‘I know that better than any of you’, she thought before nodding at him.

“Well,” He said to the room, clearing his throat, “I bet we’re all just a bit tired after today’s events so if you’d follow me, Charlotte, I’ll take you on out ta Mr. Dixon and then we’ll get some shut eye.”

Charlotte said her goodbyes to her friends and followed Phillip out to where Merle stood. She went back into her thoughts as they spoke and then wordlessly followed her old friend to his small apartment.

The questions mercilessly made their way back in as they walked. Did he remember her? Was he going to talk to her? At all? Could she trust him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her but could she really, really trust him?

“This is it.” His voice pulled her quickly out of her own head. His front door was open and he was gesturing for her to step inside.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, stepping through the doorframe.

“Yeah.” He said, walking in behind her and shutting the door, “I got the couch. Ain’t gonna make ya sleep on that and it don’t bother me any.”

She turned to look at him, her hazel eyes wide with anxiety and questions that kept going through her mind. Did he remember her? Did he think about her every day when he’d left? Did he know she’d missed him?

“Got runnin’ water. Can take a shower if ya want. Towels are in there.” He continued, walking further into the apartment. His back to her now, “Got a little food too if ya…””

“Merle?” Charlotte whispered, barely audible even in the tiny space.

Anyone else would have missed the flinch. A small gesture. Charlotte saw it and she knew. She knew that he at least remembered her. Was this as important to him as it was to her? Is he happy? It he angry? Is he disappointed?

“Best friends forever?” He chuckled, his voice low in his throat.

“I thought you forgot me?” Charlotte allowed herself slow, steady breaths as she waited him to answer her.

“Wasn’t sure at first but it’s been a long stretch ‘a years between now ‘n then.” He turned to face her, his face serious. Unreadable. “Last time I saw ya you were just a whole mess ‘a hair and some knobby knees, girlie. Forgive me?”

He chuckled, a smile forming on his face.

“Then why did you act like you’d never met me?” Charlotte asked him, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“Gov’ner don’t like attachments to much. Gets twitchy every time I even mention Daryl. May work fer ‘im but I trust ‘im bout as far as I can throw ‘eem.” He explained, “‘Sides, it’s not really his business anyhow.”

She nodded slowly.

“If ya want ta go ‘head and take that shower we can talk when yer done?” It was a question. She could tell he was used to giving commands so she nodded and went the direction she had been pointed earlier.

She finished her shower and went back out to the living area where she had expected to find him sleeping. Instead he was sitting on the ramshackle couch drinking out of an amber bottle.

“There’s a sandwich for ya and summa this homemade piss water.” He laughed, motioning towards a few milk crates being used as a coffee table where a plate and bottle sat.

She eyed the bottle before grabbing both that and the sandwich and setting down beside him.

“If yer not a drinker I got tap water.” Merle told her as she eyed the bottle suspiciously.

“Uh-huh.” Charlotte smirked at him before popping open the bottle and taking a swig.

“Well pardon me, Princess. Need ta remind ya I wasn’t ‘round ya growin’ up?”

“You’re right.” She told him, her face turning serious, “I was raised a proper lady what with wine and champagne and tea parties. What was I thinking? Take this from me before I get struck by lightning.”

“If you ain’t the same sarcastic asshole ya were as a kid.” He laughed and took another drink of his beer.

“You are right though. This is some horrible beer.” She told him, taking a bite of her sandwich.”

She ate as they talked about everything that happened since the last time they’d saw each other. She asked him why he’d suddenly stopped sending her letters and pictures. He told her about getting court martialed and thrown in jail. He told her how he’d lost his hand and how he’d met Andrea and her friends. For a just a few hours that night it felt as if the Walkers never happened. That the world outside was still full of treehouses and little boys who skipped rocks and little girls who watched too many damn movies and even fathers who treated their children like punching bags.

“So, did you ever think of me?” Charlotte asked, “You know, after we lost touch?”

“For a while.” he told her, his eyes looking around his room nervously, “Then life kinda got in the way. Sorry, darlin’”

Charlotte shrugged it off.

“I gotta ask.” Merle said after some silence, “Where’d yer accent get off to, Fancy Pants?”

“I don’t know.” She replied with a small shrug, “I just kind of gradually lost it over time. I left town, went to college, moved away, traveled the world. Directed a little. Produced some. I’ve been known to slip right back into it sometimes..”

He only nodded and Charlotte could tell her friend was getting tired.

“Well,” She told him, “We’ll both still be here in the morning so I’m going to go ahead and get some sleep if that’s okay?”

“That’s probably for the best.” He told her, running his hand through his hair, “I’m tuckered out.”

“Better stop that.” She said as she got to her feet and started her walk to the bedroom, “You’ll go bald.”

“Sarcastic asshole.” He muttered as he turned to lay on the couch.

----

A lot can happen when you’re not paying attention, that’s what Charlotte was thinking to herself as she stood in the woods between the Dixon brothers watching them argue.

Woodbury had been a wonderful dream and a horrible nightmare in the days leading up to the predicament she found herself in now. She’d laughed at old memories with Merle Dixon as Michonne left and Andrea stayed. She’d realize that she was getting feelings for him while he was gone looking for Michonne.  

She was sick to her stomach when she’d realized maybe she’d gotten feelings for him while they exchanged letters in her youth. She was even sicker to her stomach when she found out what he’d done to Andrea’s friends and her feelings didn’t change. She knew deep down he was still a good man.

So it was only natural to Charlotte that she follow both of the Dixons into the forest even if it meant never seeing Andrea and Michonne again. Because the Dixon boys felt like home. Because even if Merle didn’t feel the same way, he was her home.

“I can’t go with you, I…” Merle started as Daryl told him that he was heading back to the prison to join up with Rick, “I tried to kill that black bitch. Damn near killed the Chinese kid.”

“He’s Korean.” Daryl said.

“Whatever.” Merle replied, his eyes begging his them both not to leave him.

Charlotte could see his internal battle. He wanted to go. He wanted forgiveness. It was the first time since she saw him again he looked like the little boy she met beside the creek. The first time she saw under the war and prison. The walkers. The beatings. She wondered silently if she should say something or if that would just make things worse.

“Doesn’t matter, man.” Merle spoke again, “I just can’t go with you.”

“You know,” Daryl told him, “I may be the one walking away but you’re the one leaving - again.”

-----

It went just about as good as she thought it would when the three of them had shown up at the prison but Rick said Merle could stay. They all seemed to listen to anything the former cop said and they fell into an uncomfortable little family. Every day was more awkward than the last. Merle skulking around the prison feeling sorry for himself. Glenn being pissed off. Charlotte trying her best to not take sides. Daryl being stuck in the middle whether he liked it or not.

Until The Governor sent word that he wanted Michonne. They decided that maybe it was for the best to turn over the new girl. Rick half-heartedly agreeing to the plan because he’d lost so much already. The rest of them following his lead. All of them except for Merle. Charlotte couldn’t find him and even Daryl didn’t know where he was. She decided to look for him in the lower levels of the prison.

“Merle?” She said, stepping down the last stair to one of the lower areas, “You down here?”

She found him in one of the rooms, ripping open long gone flattened pillows and threadbare prison mattresses with his prosthetic knife.

“Hey, Char.” He replied as she walked in the room with him.

“What are you doing down here? Just looking for a little meth?” She asked him, crossing her arms and raising her brow.

“Yeah. I know, sweetheart.” He sighed, “Shit’ll mess my life right up. ‘Specially when my life is goin’ so sweet. Right?”

“You talk to Rick yet?” It stung a little to hear him say that but she kept her face still.

“Yeah. I’m in. He ain’t got the stomach fer it. He’s gonna buckle. Ya know that, right?” He told her.

“Then he will.” She said with a shrug.

“What? Ya want him to buckle?”

“I’m new around here. No one’s gonna listen to me. Even if that wasn’t the case, what Rick says goes.” She stated firmly.

“Do you even got a voice of yer own anymore, Charlotte? An opinion in that pretty little head ‘a yers? One little original thought that you didn’t parrot right back out? Polly want a cracker?” He told her angrily.

“What the hell is your problem, Merle? Are you fuckin’ high?” She spat, completely confused by his sudden outburst.

“No.” He told her, “You interrupted that, remember?”

“Well then what about me has you thinkin’ that I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’? Nothin’s different.” She said.

“These people look at me like I’m the devil grabbin’ up those lovebirds like that, huh? Now ya’ll want me to do the same damn thing I did. Snatch someone up and deliver ‘em to the Governor.”

“You don’t get it.” She told him with tears threatening to form in her eyes, “You can’t do things without people anymore, Merle.”

“Maybe these people need somebody like me around. Do their dirty work for ‘em.”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that.” She told him. “Any ‘a these people. Any of this self pity bullshit you’re spouting. You’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”

“I ain’t forgot nothin’.” He stood and walked out of the room and down the hallway.

“Sure you ain’t.” She said, following him into what looked like a woodworking room, “You’re not beyond redemption, dumbass.”

“You ain’t been around fer years. What makes ya think I ain’t done things that can’t be forgiven?” He said, his voice strained.

“Have you seen it out there? The dead are up and walking ‘round. We used ta watch movies about this very thing. It ain’t fiction anymore. It’s fuckin’ reality. Anything can be forgiven in this new world.” She told him, coming to stand face to face with him.

“Besides,” She added when he didn’t say anything, “Maybe I need you around. You ever think of that?”

“Maybe ya need me around?”

“Maybe I do.”

She saw the realization of what she was saying hit his eyes. She saw confusion. She saw hesitation. She saw the gears in his head turning. Then, the immediate heat rise in her face as she started to blush. What had she said?

He smirked and walked behind her but she wasn’t brave enough to turn around to see if he had left.

“Maybe ya need me ta sort ya out?”

“Never said that.” She told him as heat rose in other places on her body, “Why? You interested?”

Who was she? Where had that come from? She was shocked that the words had left her mouth. Seconds later she felt his arms around her waist and his breath from behind her on her neck.

“I lied.” Merle rasped into her neck, “I thought about ya all the time, darlin’. Juvie. Marines. Jail. When Dawn of the damn Dead came shufflin’ down the road. Back ta when I weren't such a colossal fuckup.”

“Merle…” Charlotte spoke in a whisper.

“Mmmm.” He groaned, his voice leaving her a little breathless, “A lot different than I’ve been thinkin’ about ya lately, though.”

She let her head fall back on his shoulder, concentrating on his words. The immediate change of the air between them palpable.

“Been thinkin’ of all the things I could do to that body ‘a yers.” He told her, moving his remaining hand to grip her hip firmly.

“Merle.” His name sounding like a command and a curse all at once as it left her lips. A blush crept across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

“That’s right, baby girl.” He whispered, “I like the way my name sounds on yer lips.”

Charlotte shuddered as he ran his hand up her side, her body on fire and freezing all at once.

“You want me ta stop, Charlotte? You just say the word.” He told her, swallowing,

“Don’t stop.” She choked, willing her brain to work.

“I ain’t gonna to be gentle, baby.” He warned her again, his voice soaked with lust.

“I don’t want you to be.” She told him, her voice cracking as she reached around his head to pull his lips to her neck.

His tongue ran along her skin as he took his knife and cut her bra from her body before removing it from the metal holder. She gasped as his fingers found her nipples, pinching them into little peaks while he nibbled his way down her shoulder.

It was then she noticed the feeling of his hard cock against the cheek of her ass. Her blush deepened as she let out another audible gasp.

“You feel that, girlie?” Merle said, “That’s what ya do ta me. Just lookin’ at ya gets me hard as a rock.”

He turned her to face him and backed her up against the metal work table. His hardness pressing against her thigh now.

“Need you.” Charlotte whispered, her pupils so large only a sliver of hazel was showing.

“Patience, sweetheart. We’ll get ta the good part soon enough.” He replied with a chuckle. His lips met hers with a sense of urgency she wasn’t expecting. He still wasn’t entirely sure that this wasn’t a dream. He thought for sure soon he’d wake up alone in his room in Woodbury. Without his brother. Without her.

She moaned into the kiss as he lifted her onto a metal table. His tongue exploring her mouth as his hand worked to remove her jeans and panties.

“That’s right, baby girl. Merle’s gonna take care of ya.” He said as he stopped kissing her, his voice even more gravely than normal.

A shit eating grin crossed his face as he kneeled before her. Leaning back and closing her eyes, Charlotte thought for sure she knew what was coming next but when she heard Merle chuckle and felt his lips touch her ankle she smiled.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to be gentle.” She said, eyes still closed.

“We’ll get ta that.” He laughed darkly, “Decided I liked ta watch ya squirm.”

With that, he kissed a trail from her ankle to the side of her knee. Moving to the other leg, he did the same causing an impatient whimper from Charlotte.

“Yeah.” Merle’s voice was low in his throat, “Like that, baby. Just like that.”

He ran his tongue from her knee, all the way up her thigh until his face was just in front of her waiting pussy. He stopped and looked up to see that her eyes were open again and looking down at him. The wanton desire in his blue eyes was mirrored in hers. He smiled then, his bared teeth adding to his predatory look and causing her insides to turn to mush.

He ran his tongue slowly, torturously, up her slit and groaned hungrily.

“Fuck.” He said, “You taste like heaven, girl.”

He licked her slit again, this time pushing at her folds a little firmer and then moving back to spit on the fingers of his remaining hand before inserting two of them into her. When he was sure she was ready he started fingering her forcefully, bringing his lips to suck on her clit as he did. She bucked wildly against his face and grabbed wildly at his hair.

“Fuck yes.” Charlotte moaned, “Oh my God, Merle! Please.”

He slurped at her clit, crooking his fingers inside her and scratching the itch they were both so desperate to scratch. He wanted to take his time but he couldn’t wait any longer to bury himself inside of her.

The buzz started at the edges of her brain and ran through the rest of her body. Her skin felt like locust wings, alive and in constant movement, desperate to reach her climax. She gasped like she was being held underwater and had just reached the surface.

“Please.” She howled, her thoughts reaching for a better word but finding none.

“Gonna make ya cum first, baby.” Merle said. He felt her tense around his fingers and knew that his words had sent her over the edge.

“Fuck!” She screamed as the universe exploded behind her eyelids, “Merle! Don’t stop.”

His fingers continued plunging into her on time with his tongue as another orgasm shuddered through her body.

“That’s right, sugar.” Merle stopped what he was doing and raised to his feet. He removed his own jeans and stood before her, his cock hard and slick with arousal.

Charlotte opened her eyes and looked down at the length of him, waiting at her entrance. It was bigger than she expected it to be and she was sure her face betrayed her.

“Mmmhmm.” Merle said, he grinned proudly looking at her, “Like what you see, baby?”

Charlotte blushed, still trying to catch her breath. She gulped once and nodded.

“Hehehe.” He chuckled, running his eyes over her waiting body, “That’s real good, sweetheart. So do I.”

He leaned forward to kiss her deeply, the taste of her orgasm sweet and salty on his lips. She moaned into his mouth as she felt his tip push past her opening.

He growled, the noise ancient and feral in his throat, as he pushed himself inside of her. The warmth of her encased him perfectly and he thought for a brief moment that he never wanted the feeling to leave him. That maybe he should take it slow. Maybe there was something to the act of lovemaking. But the Dixons were bred from cavemen and killers. From Vikings and gunrunners. The Dixons didn’t make love.

He pulled himself out and harshly back into her. She cried out in pleasure. He began thrusting into her over and over again, the muscles in his arms bulging and glistening with sweat as he held onto the table.

“Quiet, girlie. What ya gonna do if my brother or officer friendly came in here and saw ya squirming all over my cock?” He chuckled then, knowing damn well neither of them would care if a army of walkers shambled in at this point.

“Merle!” Charlotte’s eyes were shut tight. “Fuck me! Never stop fucking me!”

“Don’t wanna stop, sugar.” Merle grunted, sweat dripping from his hairline. “Yer mine. All mine.”

“Yes.” She cried out, “Just yours.”

He picked her up and braced her against the closest wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he slammed into her hard, over and over again. Tears forming in the corner of her eyes as she called out his name, desperate to catch her breath.

“The way ya feel on my cock, sweetheart. Fuck. So good.” He mumbled, his forehead falling to the wall so his breath hit her ear just right.

“Yes.” She breathed, his pace growing more frantic as her hands reached up to grip his biceps.

“Wanna feel ya cum ‘round my cock.” He turned slightly so she could hear the rumble of his voice.

“I’m…” Charlotte swallowed, gripping at his skin, “I’m almost there.”

“Me too.” He told her, “Come on, Charlotte. I can’t hold on much longer.”

Another bout of long thrusts and they both came, calling out sweet nothings and cursing as the universe spun around them. Merle held her as he took a seat on the hard cement floor, his erection growing soft inside of her as she remained splayed on top of him. He changed position to lay down, a dust cloth under his head and she smiled down at his as she moved to lay on his chest.

After they got dressed and were setting together on the workbench Charlotte looked over to see the serious look on Merle’s face and got a strange feeling in her stomach. Questions started rushing to her head.

“Uh,” She started, her nerves not allowing her to keep quiet, “It’s okay… I know this was just a thing. We’re good.”

It did nothing to quell her growing panic as his only reply was to lower his head and sigh.

“I said it’s okay.” She told him, her voice low.

“It’s not that, Charlotte.” He replied, “It can’t be just a thing ‘tween us. It was never gon’ be just a thing.”

She looked over at him. He raised his head but still didn’t look her way.

“I’m a hard man.” He said, talking slower than normal as if he was choosing his words carefully, “I’ve always been a hard man but the way my life panned out... it did me in. The shit with my dad. The military. Through whatever the hell you’d call this. It’s always been you. Save my little brother, you were my only friend. I mean ever. The only one that’s sat and talked ta me. Got ta know me ‘fore they judged the kinda man I was. Wasn’t scared ‘a me even a little. So, I thought of you.”

She didn’t want to say anything stop him from talking. It was obvious he needed to finish what he was saying.

“Even when I was doin’ heinous shit. Shit that no man ever ought be doin’ I’d think back ta the treehouse and the crick and what that little girl would think of ole’ Merle now. All blood and guts and hate. Then we found each other and I felt like somethin’ was tryin’ ta tell me to get my shit together. But, I’m still me. I got all this… life on me ‘n some of my shit is permanently separated.”

“I swear to God, if you start quoting Jack Nicholson from As Good As It Gets I’m going back upstairs.” Charlotte chuckled, her hazel eyes watery as they looked at him.

“You little shit.” He laughed loud, “I’m tryin’ ta tell ya I love ya. Sarcastic asshole, I swear.”

“I love you too.” She said quietly, the familiar blush creeping over her face.

“Best friends forever?” He asked before kissing her.