I've been inspired by prettypinklips. And besides, Daryl is the sexiest fucking manbeast alive.

Blatant facade

The front yard of the farm seemed half alive with activity. Daryl sat at a picnic table cleaning his crossbow. Shane had the bag of guns and busied himself by taking of each. T-dog was hauling water from the third well to replenish the RV's supply. Hershal sat on the porch whittling away at a small chunk of wood.

Andrea was walking back in from the far edge of the field.

"Hey, Daryl! Toss me that bucket from under the table?" she asked as she approached.

He grabbed the small red bucket and with a flick of the wrist, it flew through the air. She caught it with both hands and thanked him. He nodded and asked, "Find somethin' good?"

"A little patch of black cap raspberries on the edge of the woods. I thought everyone might like them as a little treat," she answered.

"I'll come out and help ya once I'm done with this," he stated simply. They tended to hang around each other alot. The two could stand each other more than they could anyone else in the group. Rick, Lori and Shane were walking soap operas. Glan seemed too busy eyeing up the farmer's daughter. T-dog was okay, but kept bitching that no one liked him because he was black. All of it was a bunch of bullshit. It was the zombie fucking apocolypse, and nobody needed to deal with any of it.

Daryl loaded his crossbow and stood. He crossed the yard and entered the field. He could see her about twenty feet ahead. He let himself watch her hips sway as she walked. He felt no guilt as he did. It wasn't like he was watching her undress(not that he would mind that much if he was allowed to do that). And he couldn't be blamed for checking her out.

She had already reached the edge of the woods. He watched as she began to pick berries and drop them into the little red bucket. He rubbed a hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment. The Georgia heat rarely got to him, but at the moment it was boiling.

A scream made his eyes snap open, looking up. A hand had reached out of the woods, grabbing Andrea. She tried to pull away, but couldn't. " 'Drea!" Daryl yelled. She was pulled back into the bush, out of veiw. He had already started running at the place where she had been pulled away.

"Let go of me!" she cried angerly.

He broke through the bramble to find Andrea struggling against who else but his own brother, Merle. Merle had his right arm wrapped around her neck. The end of that arm lacked a hand. It was a dark burn, disgusting and scabbed.

"Merle, let 'er go," Daryl spoke calmly, yet still full of authority.

"Why should I?" Merle's voice was slurred. He was obviously drunk or high, or both.

Daryl replied steadily, as though he had dealt with his brother being this way before. "She ain't yours."

"She cou' be. All she hasta ta do is take her top off," the older brother slurred, tightening his grip around her neck. She began to claw at his arm, trying to get out of his grip, or at least get him to loosen it.

"Let. Her. Go. Can't you see you're chokin' 'er?" Daryl said, a bit angrier now.

"She'ssss fine... I just wanna have some fun wiv er..."

Andrea stared with terrified eyes at Daryl. She couldn't breath at all, or get Merle to let go. At the moment, Daryl was her only hope to be saved from being raped. He returned the look, promising she'd be okay.

"Daryl, remember that thing you used ta' say back when we were in school? 'Bout girls?" Daryl asked his brother, staring him down.

"Uh..." Merle seemed to have to fight for his memory. "Dun go after summm budy lsse's gurl..." Merle slurred finally.

"You told me that. Why wouldn't you listen to yer own advice?"

It seemed to take Merle an eternity to figure out what Daryl ment, exspecially from Andrea's point of view. "She..." Merle finally began. "She's yers...?" Daryl nodded slowly. "Oh..."

Merle released Andrea, pushing her back to Daryl. He caught her gently, keeping her from falling to the ground. She gasped for air and began to cough, her body finally getting oxygen back. Moments later, Merle collapsed, and lay snoring in the dirt. Daryl shook his head at his brother and stood, supporting Andrea.

"You okay?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and spoke in a scratchy voice. "I think I'll be fine..."

"Ya' don't mind me tellin' him you're my girl, do you? I had ta' get him off ya', and it's not like I coulda shot him," he reasoned.

"I... understand..."

"C'mon. I'll get ya away from that asshole." He helped her out of the small clearing and back to the house.

It was hours later when she was sitting on the small bench in the RV, an icepack resting on the bruise that had blossomed around her neck, that Daryl came in and sat across from her.

"Merle's up. The bastard wandered back over here. Sober now, though..." Daryl paused, setting his crossbow down and leaning against the table. "He remembered some 'a the... incident in the woods. He was asking about us..."

"What'd he ask?"

Daryl looked away from her. "... How good you are..." She blushed. "But if he finds out yer single, he'll do some asshole thing like that again..." She was silent. "If you want, we can... uh, make it look like yer actually my girl... So he doesn't do anything."

She gently pulled his chin up to look at her and tenderly pressed a kiss to his lips. "I don't think that'll be a problem."