The prison was beautiful. Or at least, it was safe. And that in itself was true beauty. She was sitting, scrubbing clothing on a wash board, humming along with Beth who was crooning what sounded like a lullaby about ' Goodnight Moon' to little Asskicker. Even up to her elbows in soap and dirt, scrubbing the walker goo and mud from his jeans, Daryl knew he had never seen a more beautiful woman. Except, maybe his momma.

Daryl was a smart man, a lot smarter then people around here gave him credit for. He just acted dumb. It wasn't a defense mechanism, more of a scheme. He'd run into a rotten group, rapists, murders, pillagers or the like and put up the dumb redneck scheme and kill every last bastard in their sleep. Yeah, Daryl Dixon was real dumb, to all the wrong people.

Daryl Dixon was a tough man, an abusive dad and a druggie momma, coupled with a delinquent brother left him no place to be soft. And when the dead started eating people he knew maybe being tough wasn't so bad. In the old life he was dumb as shit, inbred, redneck trash, in the new one he was a hero, a provider and a good man.

She caught him watching, she always seems to these days, and gave him a wondrous smile that left him feeling warm. He nodded, grinning back, and glanced around their little camp. There was more then enough people to go around in the wide space they had taken after leaving the prison, wary of the Governor's next move. Traveling with so many, especially so many children and elderly wasn't ideal, but it worked alright. They ended up back in the city, with the Vatos, and things were going well. G was there occasionally, but only to speak with Rick or Daryl. He had his hands full with his wife and small child. They were staying in a live in elderly home, much bigger then the one the Vatos had been using, allowing everyone their own living space. It was almost too good to be true. They had plumbing, electricity and plenty of food and medicine.

From the old group of survivors, the Atlanta pack, there was Hershel, Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, Dale, Merle, Amy, Andrea, Sophia, Carl, Rick, Carol, and T-Dog. After saving Andrea and Amy from Woodbury they'd also saved Milton, patching him up in the nick of time. They'd picked up Randall at the Greene's farm and Michonne had come with Andrea, Amy, Milton and Merle. They were quiet the pack. Add in the Woodbury folks and the Vatos and their families and the numbers swelled to the thirties.

" Go talk to her Dixon." Andrea spoke softly, giving Milton's hand a warm, squeeze as they strolled by. Since Milton's almost death he and Andrea had began a blossoming romance that was quickly becoming serious. They were on their way to bed, though the night was still young, the crickets singing in the ruins of the city, just outside their windows. " Tell her how you feel so you can get to the good stuff already. Trust me." She nudged Milton, winking at the redneck. " The shy, quiet ones are the most hard core sex you'll get in your life. And they always cuddle afterword." With the red tint on her lover's cheeks becoming more pronounced they left for a night of lovemaking.

Daryl, deciding maybe it was time to tell Carol how he felt, cleared his throat and made his way to her, boots scuffing roughly on the plastic tile floor beneath him. Daryl knew it had a proper name. Linen? No. Linium? No. He shook his head, knowing he needed to focus now. His heart was thudding so loudly he wondered if she'd hear it. He swallowed, dryly and sat beside her, his accent slow and warm as he adjusted himself comfortably.

" You didn' have ta do that ya know, I coulda taken care a my own things jus' fine. I don't need to be babied." He spoke in what he hoped was a harsh tone, but she saw right through it.

" I like to baby you Daryl, those machines aren't use to Dixon clothes, covered in walker blood and so much mud it looks like they came that way." She laughed easily. " Really though Daryl, it's not a problem. Gives me something to do. Everyone else has some form of entertainment or chore and Sophia is getting far too mature and grown up for me to baby. Your laundry keeps me focused, makes me feel useful." She spoke in that soft, shy voice as she wrung out his jeans.

" I-" Daryl went pale as a sheet when she started washing his favorite pair of boxers, seeming unbothered by the stains and general nastiness he was sure they held. " C'mon Carol, you really don't gotta-"

" Shh." Carol pressed a slim finger to his lips and laughed. " You'll need to take Merle, if you can get him unglued from Maggie for more then a few minutes, and find us some Christmas trees and ornaments. I've been counting the days and it's in just a few weeks. Please?" He melted at her words and nodded instantly. She had him wrapped around her pinkie. " Could you maybe help me hang up your laundry too?"

" Course." He muttered and the two set out int the yard to hang up Daryl's things. He didn't like to machine dry them, said it made them wear faster.


It was late that night and Carol was in her room, shaking so bad her teeth chattered loud enough for Daryl to hear next door. The vents between their rooms were connected, so he could easily hear her toss and fidget.

He sighed, stumbling out of bed in only a pair of loose sweats and raked a hand through his matted hair. He stumbled into her room, causing a momentary panic before recognition lit her face, along with worry.

" I'm sorry, did I wake you? I'm just so cold." Carol whispered, trembles wracking her body. The snow outside was heavy and cold, the home they had chosen wasn't very well insulated either.

" Stop 'pologizin' and move ya ass over sos I can sleep." He muttered, scooting into bed and wrapping his long, warm and muscled frame around her to hopefully warm her up.


So, this is going to be anywhere from a 10-100 chapter story. I'll try to post at least two characters a day but bear with me guys. My muses have to be happy and fed with lots of reviews, otherwise they don't want to inspire me.