Work Text:
The last time Daryl listened ta his brother shoulda been the last time Daryl listened ta his brother. Bad 'nough he listened ta Merle's tip bout tryin' ta meet people 'n make friends in this damn town. Ev'ryone jus' ignored 'im. Ain't nobody wanna get ta know a damn Dixon 'round these parts. Even 'f there were concert tickets involved. That Merle'd hustled off'n some guy in a game a pool that he were tryin' ta pawn off on Daryl 's 'nother excuse ta get 'im ta go out.
If'n Daryl were gonna go out it ain't gonna be ta no Alice Cooper tribute band. Glam rock ain't Daryl's scene. 'N blind dates sure's hell ain't. Small talk 'n all a that awkward shit? No fuckin' way. Were hard 'nough talkin' ta his brother sometimes. He'd rather go huntin'. Ain't gotta talk ta nobody.
So's a course he listened ta Merle 'bout good huntin' at Yellow Jacket Creek. Got fuckin' skunked. 'N ain't jus' 'cuz he ain't got nothin'. But, he got fuckin' sprayed. By a fuckin' skunk. 'N now he were gettin' pulled over by a fuckin' cop. In Merle's fuckin' truck. With the fuckin' tags expired. Fuck.
'Least he gonna meet somebody. 'N there were gonna be a ticket involved. Jus' not the kind Merle were hopin' fer 'im ta get. Like on a fuckin' date. More like the four hundred dollar kind. Shit.
The glove box were a fuckin' mess. 'N by the time he rifled through all a them old fast food napkins an' girlie magazines an' shit Merle got in there ta find the registration the cop were 'front a his rolled-down window. Tryin' not ta choke on the smell a skunk comin' off'n 'im.
Daryl handed over 'is papers. "Afternoon, Officer," he'd planned on fakin' a grin, but somethin' 'bout the man standin' by 'is window made 'im smile fer real. That cop had the bluest, kindest eyes he ever seen. 'N the way he were pretendin' not ta notice that awful smell made 'im a saint far 's Daryl were concerned.
The officer, Grimes 'is name tag said, smiled back. Lips pink 'n sweet. "Afternoon." Even 'is voice were sweet. Like he were talkin' ta a lost kid er somethin'. "Ya mind steppin' out a the vehicle?"
Shit. He gonna haveta walk a straight line? Er maybe the guy jus' seen 'Dixon' on 'is license an' assumed there'd be trouble. "I ain't been drinkin'," Daryl fumbled ta jimmy the lock 'n get the door open on that piece a shit truck. Took three tries 'n it don't make 'is case fer bein' sober, but that door were damn near rusted shut. The guy were patient, though, but Daryl slid out with 'is hands up jus' in case.
The cop jus' smiled 'gain. Makin' Daryl's stomach flop. "It ain't like that," he relaxed 'is stance. Showin' Daryl he ain't mean no harm. "It's the smell," he waved a hand 'front a his face.
Daryl felt 'is cheeks burnin'. "I's out huntin' an'," he shrugged. Don't really gotta explain that one. Pretty obvious.
"Seems ta me that skunk sure got his target," the guy teased. But he ain't mockin'. "You get yours?"
Daryl relaxed a little. This guy ain't nothin' like Merle were always sayin' cops's like. He were kinda funny...nice even. "Ain't got shit," Daryl chuckled.
Grimes looked over the registration. Like he finally 'membered what he were s'posed ta be doin'. Passed it back ta Daryl. Brushin' fingers. Like he don't mind a bit. "Ya know yer tags are out a date?" Somehow he don't sound like he's judgin'. Jus' pointin' it out.
Daryl tucked 'is license back inta his wallet, 'n ev'rythin' inta his back pocket. "I'ma take care a it," he don't even bring Merle inta it. 'N how he were still tryin' ta pay off the last a his brother's debt 'fore he could pay fer them damn tags on 'is brother's damn truck. "I's gonna pick up a extra shift first thing t'morrow so's I c'n get them tags," he chewed 'is thumb. 'N he don't even know why he needed Grimes ta b'lieve he were a good man 'n not no damn Dixon.
Grimes took off 'is hat all casual 'n nodded. Bouncin' them curls a his. Doin' things ta Daryl ain't no man got a right ta. "Shouldn't ya maybe let yer brother do that? Bein' it is his truck?"
"Ya know Merle?" Daryl swallowed hard. Fuck 'f the only cops Merle knew ain't but the ones arrested 'im. Er threw 'is ass outta bars after a fight.
Grimes smiled 'gain. The guy were friendly. Officer Friendly. "Met 'im at the bar the other night." A course. "He's a bit of a pool shark," the cop let 'is hands rest on 'is service belt. Relaxed an' not at all authoritative. Nowhere near 'is gun. Jus' like they's two guys hangin' out 'n not no traffic stop. "Took me fer two hundred dollars," he admitted.
Daryl cringed. More on account a how 'is brother's behavior might make 'im look ta this guy than fer Merle havin' the fuckin' money fer them fuckin' tags 'n not fuckin' buyin' 'em. "He's even better at darts'n pool, hope ya didn't-"
"Yeah," Grimes huffed out a laugh. "I did."
"Shit," Daryl kicked at a rock. Leave it ta Merle ta fuck over a cop. 'N a nice one at that. "I'll get ya yer money back." Fuck 'f he knew why he really wanted ta.
Grimes waved 'im off. "Ta be fair I was feelin' a bit lonely so I'd had a few drinks, but don't worry, I wasn't drivin'," he teased. Flashin' Daryl a wink that made parts a him take notice in ways he ain't s'posed ta. Not from 'nother man. "Anyway," the guy were blushin' 'bout 's pink 's them lips a his, "if it weren't fer that I don't think I'd a been such a easy mark."
Easy were a good word fer Grimes. Easy ta talk ta. Like a old friend. "I know what that's like." Only friends waitin' fer Daryl at the bar were Jack fuckin' Daniels 'n Jim Beam.
"I'm Rick, by the way," the guy offered 'is hand. Like he saw Daryl as a equal. "How come I never see ya there with yer brother, Daryl?" Sounded like he really wanted ta know. "He talks 'bout ya all the time."
"Workin' mos'ly," Daryl shrugged. Somebody gotta pay the rent.
Rick smiled 'gain. 'S warm 's the heat poolin' in Daryl's belly. "Maybe ya could come sometime, give me some pointers so I can beat yer brother at pool next time." Seemed like he really meant it. Wanted 'im there. 'N not jus' ta get 'is money back.
"I could do that," Daryl choked on 'is breath. Ain't gonna mind bendin' that guy over the table.
Rick flashed them teeth. White 'n perfect. 'N Daryl hoped they's the only straight thing 'bout 'im. "I really should give ya a ticket, though," Rick were lookin' so coy with them pink lips pursed inta a grin Daryl ain't even mad.
"Sure," Daryl sighed. The bigger it were the more shifts he gonna haveta pick up. 'N the less time he gonna have fer stoppin' by the bar hopin' ta run inta Rick Grimes.
Rick scribbled somethin' out. Handed Daryl the ticket. But, it weren't fer no four hundred dollars er some shit. It were one a Merle's damn Alice Cooper knock off tribute band tickets. With Rick's phone number on it. "Starts at seven, but we could grab dinner first," Rick shrugged. "Play some pool?"
Daryl looked up. Met Rick's eyes. "Kinda need ta run home 'n take a shower." In tomato juice an' fuckin' bleach. 'N thank 'is brother fer buttin' inta his life. This time. "But, I'd like ta go out with ya," he chewed 'is thumb. 'N maybe his shit day weren't so bad. Maybe he ain't got skunked after all.