Post by juniper on Mar 26, 2011 14:49:24 GMT -8
“What do I want? I want you. Or, someone almost exactly like you, but who shares my life goals.”
“We all want to survive, Maggie.” Douglas pointed it out oh so reasonably, and I found myself nodding.
“Yes, yes we do. But I want more than mere survival. You have no plans, no goals beyond living for another day, eating your dinner, and screwing me, waking up tomorrow and doing it all again.”
He nodded, “And you have to admit I'm damned good at it.”
Without meaning to, I smiled, “Alright, yeah, you are. Quit distracting me. We're on watch, and it's not gonna happen until we're alone, anyway.” He touched my arm, lightly, and smiled back.
“If you find what it is you're looking for, you know I'll be the first one telling you to go for it, but why ruin a good thing now for a maybe someday?”
I blinked at him, “Because I think I've found my maybe someplace. Not my maybe someone. I'd like to give you a chance to be that, but look at this place, defend-able, has storage, has room, walled gardens. Even pens for small cattle and chickens.”
He turned his back to the wilds outside the wall, and slowly scanned the compound we'd made our temporary home.
“And it comes with those zealots.” he pointed out, raking his blonde hair out of his eyes.
“You need a haircut again,” I said fondly. “Those zealots would let us stay. They haven't lost anyone since we got here. They grow the food, we defend.”
He frowned, “I don't know how long that would work. Intermarriage, for one. Since we already know they don't screw around outside of it. We're a pretty hedonistic bunch, and they're, well, square.”
I nodded, even as I noted that he ignored what I said about the haircut. The damage from the last one I gave him hadn't quite grown out. “I did think about taking the place by force, but I'm not that heartless.”
From the look he gave me, I knew Douglas had considered that, too, and rejected it for whatever reason.
“It is something to consider. If we leave here, I don't think the whole pack is coming.” he pointed out. “And I don't know if we can afford to fracture the whole.”
“You could order them. Make them.” I reminded him, to see him nod.
“I haven't led that way, yet, and I don't intend to.” He flicked his hair out of his eyes again, and eyed my french braid enviously.
“You could grow it long enough to braid.”
“And have to fight Jeremy for alpha, again? Not a chance. I like being top dog.”
“I noticed.” I said, wryly, “of course, so do I. That's the other reason I think I need to be on the look out for another situation.”
He looked at me, thoughtfully, and nodded. “That's true. If you stay here, or go with us, as the case may be, but you and I aren't stable, the whole pack could fall apart.”
I nodded, having lead him to the conclusion I'd come to last night, after he fell asleep.
“We promised these Pacifists” the word sounded dirty in his mouth, as it did in mine, and nearly all the packs, “that we'd stay a week, in exchange for provisions. I'll think on what you said.”
“That's all I'm asking, Douglas. The politics involved are too complicated for me to just walk away.”
He nodded thoughtfully before turning to scan the horizon, as I took my turn looking inward. The potential trouble could come from anywhere, and these Pacifists, I sneered the word, even in my thoughts, took in refugees without even quarantining them.
Douglas and I didn't worry about our people, we were more or less immune, a fact we kept carefully hidden, but a raging hoard could overcome even the best fighters, or group of fighters. I shuddered, slightly, despite the sun. Being eaten to death was one of my top three fears. Funny how an apocalypse changes the way you think.
The sun came up over the horizon, another night passed without incident. Douglas gave me an unreadable look, then shook his head, and headed down the stairs. His relief was already on the way up, Jeremy's boots thumping louder and more awake than necessary.
I sketched a salute, then rubbed my hand along my cheek, and wondered if I'd done the right thing. Survival wasn't all that was left to us, I hoped, for if it was, we may as well be dead. Family, children, like those pouring, laughingly, out of the Pacifist's compound, love, not just lust and friendship. I wanted everything, while the world went to hell around me.
“We all want to survive, Maggie.” Douglas pointed it out oh so reasonably, and I found myself nodding.
“Yes, yes we do. But I want more than mere survival. You have no plans, no goals beyond living for another day, eating your dinner, and screwing me, waking up tomorrow and doing it all again.”
He nodded, “And you have to admit I'm damned good at it.”
Without meaning to, I smiled, “Alright, yeah, you are. Quit distracting me. We're on watch, and it's not gonna happen until we're alone, anyway.” He touched my arm, lightly, and smiled back.
“If you find what it is you're looking for, you know I'll be the first one telling you to go for it, but why ruin a good thing now for a maybe someday?”
I blinked at him, “Because I think I've found my maybe someplace. Not my maybe someone. I'd like to give you a chance to be that, but look at this place, defend-able, has storage, has room, walled gardens. Even pens for small cattle and chickens.”
He turned his back to the wilds outside the wall, and slowly scanned the compound we'd made our temporary home.
“And it comes with those zealots.” he pointed out, raking his blonde hair out of his eyes.
“You need a haircut again,” I said fondly. “Those zealots would let us stay. They haven't lost anyone since we got here. They grow the food, we defend.”
He frowned, “I don't know how long that would work. Intermarriage, for one. Since we already know they don't screw around outside of it. We're a pretty hedonistic bunch, and they're, well, square.”
I nodded, even as I noted that he ignored what I said about the haircut. The damage from the last one I gave him hadn't quite grown out. “I did think about taking the place by force, but I'm not that heartless.”
From the look he gave me, I knew Douglas had considered that, too, and rejected it for whatever reason.
“It is something to consider. If we leave here, I don't think the whole pack is coming.” he pointed out. “And I don't know if we can afford to fracture the whole.”
“You could order them. Make them.” I reminded him, to see him nod.
“I haven't led that way, yet, and I don't intend to.” He flicked his hair out of his eyes again, and eyed my french braid enviously.
“You could grow it long enough to braid.”
“And have to fight Jeremy for alpha, again? Not a chance. I like being top dog.”
“I noticed.” I said, wryly, “of course, so do I. That's the other reason I think I need to be on the look out for another situation.”
He looked at me, thoughtfully, and nodded. “That's true. If you stay here, or go with us, as the case may be, but you and I aren't stable, the whole pack could fall apart.”
I nodded, having lead him to the conclusion I'd come to last night, after he fell asleep.
“We promised these Pacifists” the word sounded dirty in his mouth, as it did in mine, and nearly all the packs, “that we'd stay a week, in exchange for provisions. I'll think on what you said.”
“That's all I'm asking, Douglas. The politics involved are too complicated for me to just walk away.”
He nodded thoughtfully before turning to scan the horizon, as I took my turn looking inward. The potential trouble could come from anywhere, and these Pacifists, I sneered the word, even in my thoughts, took in refugees without even quarantining them.
Douglas and I didn't worry about our people, we were more or less immune, a fact we kept carefully hidden, but a raging hoard could overcome even the best fighters, or group of fighters. I shuddered, slightly, despite the sun. Being eaten to death was one of my top three fears. Funny how an apocalypse changes the way you think.
The sun came up over the horizon, another night passed without incident. Douglas gave me an unreadable look, then shook his head, and headed down the stairs. His relief was already on the way up, Jeremy's boots thumping louder and more awake than necessary.
I sketched a salute, then rubbed my hand along my cheek, and wondered if I'd done the right thing. Survival wasn't all that was left to us, I hoped, for if it was, we may as well be dead. Family, children, like those pouring, laughingly, out of the Pacifist's compound, love, not just lust and friendship. I wanted everything, while the world went to hell around me.