'Okay, peeps I'm new to The Walking Dead fandom on this faithful site of ours. Never written for the show or its characters before so I'd appreciate some honest feeback, just don't be mean about it kay? ;)
I am madly in love with this pairing, it's a huge obsession now and it's beginning to take over my life. I shouldn't be starting another fic but I literally couldn't get this or them outta my mind! Daryl and Andrea would be just perfect together. They just make sense. Am I right? I'm right, I know I'm right. ;) lol. Anyway, not exactly sure how long this'll be right now but I do have five chapters written already :P
Hope you all enjoy and please review at the end?'

Also I'm really tempted to give Andrea a slightly more tragic backstory but I haven't decided yet whether or not I will. Maybe y'all could leave me your opinions on it in your review? ;) lol. I know it's hard to answer without knowin' what the story would be but could ya try?'

Okay, read on now please. I'll shut up.'

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead and all it's plots and characters belong to Robert Kirkman, Frank Darabont, AMC and etc...

Chapter One

Georgia Sun. Another thing Andrea had decided she hated about this "new" world. The un-fucking-relenting Georgia Sun! It wasn't even 8am and she felt like she'd been locked inside a furnace.

Daryl Dixon was stalking along ahead of her; head turning slowly, eyes darting about, ears peeled. He was tense and alert, his faithful crossbow slung over his right shoulder and he appeared entirely unaffected by the heat.

That kinda pissed her off just a little bit.

Andrea had noticed—during their previous outing together—that she found herself at ease when in Daryl's presence, oddly comfortable. Not in the let-your-guard-down-and-relax-completely-getting-yourself-killed sense but she felt that she could be herself around him. Her real self, no matter how dark and twisted she was instead of the fake fine she presented to everyone else just to get them off her back.

Daryl liked the silence. Andrea liked silence. Daryl wasn't big on talking and—despite her job having required much of that—Andrea didn't like to talk much either when it involved her. She was the suffer-in-silence type which used to frustrate Amy to no end. Amy loved to talk, she thought it was healthy to get everything off your chest, even went to therapy once a week. Andrea however had absolutely no regard for therapy. She only ever went when it had been mandatory after an especially difficult case and her boss ordered it, that or her mother forcing her into it. She just didn't see the point, talking never changed anything, it only made you think about it more.

Daryl seemed to share in that specific belief. In fact, he probably despised it more than she did.

"Keep up!"

Andrea blinked at the sound of his voice, glaring death at the back of the rednecks head for the snarky command but instead of biting back she merely trudged on, quickening her pace until she fell into step on his right. The crossbow residing there ensured a careful distance between them.

Even in her walking boots—her expensive walking boots—the terrain was difficult. They were deeper into the woods than last time, which could be considered reckless but they existed in constant danger now anyways, what the hell did it really matter? It was a challenge to stay vigilant and alert as well as staying aware of what was under-foot in order to remain quiet and invisible. Quite frankly it was all exhausting and Andrea still hadn't gotten the hang of it yet whereas Daryl made it look bloody effortless. Blowing out an irate breath, Andrea readjusted her hat atop her head and pushed forwards.

The thought that this could all be for absolutely nothing did come to mind but Andrea stamped it back out. They had to find this little girl, she had to be somewhere and they just had to find her. If for nothing else than the sake of Andrea's own sanity, something she'd been debating all too much of late. She glanced fleetingly at Daryl and found his narrowed, scrutinizing orbs already on her.

Frowning back at him, Andrea lifted her shoulders and hissed, "What, Dixon?" with a little more snark than necessary.

His eyes just narrowed further, unencumbered by her tone, and spat back, "Nothin' jus'...quit thinkin' so hard. I can hear ye from 'ere."

Andrea glared but said nothing back. She was thinking too much and it was wasting her energy. She just prayed to a god she didn't believe in that Daryl would inquire no further. He hadn't before and that was exactly the reason why Andrea had decided in that moment that Daryl Dixon was her favourite person. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't ruin that now.

"Why you out 'ere?"

Andrea smiled; once again Daryl Dixon comes through. Shrugging casually she answered with an obvious, "Looking for, Sophia."

Daryl rolled his eyes, "Got that, but why? Not like ye spent tha' much time wae 'er." He snuck a glance at the blonde then, "Never got the sense ye liked kids."

"Could say the same to you." Andrea returned with a scowl. She really hated how people always assumed she didn't like kids.

"Never claimed to like 'em." Daryl retorted with a shrug of indifference.

Andrea rolled her shoulders, "It's not that I don't like kids—well I don't, not really—I just..." she looked away and cleared her throat, "...they can make me uncomfortable, that's all."

It was a lame and minutely pathetic explanation with a lot of holes but it was all she was willing to give.

Daryl chanced another glance at her and could tell she was uncomfortable just talkin' about it; her shoulders were all tense, jaw set, brow creased and she had that odd look in her blue-green eyes she always got when people questioned her about her apparent aversion to small children.

The woman was a fuckin' mystery he just could not figure out but he knew why he was out lookin' for Sophia and he wanted to know why she was too.

"Ye gonna answer?" Daryl sought roughly, eyes carefully trained on her face.

Andrea turned to him, lips compressed and eyes thoughtful. She shrugged again and replied simply, "Parents shouldn't bury their children."

Daryl scowled at that, in full agreement, "No, shit."

Andrea didn't seem to hear him. Instead she rolled her shoulders and shook her head, looking away, "It's not right."

Snorting, Daryl responded with a gruff, "Whole damn world ain't right, Blondie."

Andrea's head snapped to him at that particular term of endearment—or maybe insult—and glared, "No, shit, Redneck." She fired right back at him coldly, eyes flashing.

Daryl met her glare with raised eyebrows, that almost smirk of his playing on his lips.

Andrea just rolled her eyes and stormed ahead.

Daryl caught up in a few quick strides, eyes blazing and a scowl etched in place. He nudged her back quite sharply with his crossbow and she halted.

Spinning to him, Andrea glared thunderously, "Don't do that."

"Don't storm off inna girly strop." Daryl growled back, towering over her in an attempt to intimidate.

Andrea's mouth fell open briefly. 'Girly strop?' Then she snapped it shut, grit her teeth and rolled her eyes, shoving him backwards, "Whatever, Dixon."

He rolled his own at her before they continued on and leaning in close, Daryl insisted, "Am serious, Andrea."

She stopped walking. He did not use her name often.

Daryl waited until she'd turned to him before elaborating, "A mean it. You don' know the woods like me, yer a lawyer." He pointed out with obvious contempt.

Andrea blinked, "Wow." She scoffed out, eyebrows arched, "Don't mask your feelings on my account." She spat with cold eyes and voice deadpan.

The man before her growled in frustration, "Damn it, I didn'y—" Daryl shook his head and sighed, "One of our own lost out 'ere is enough." He stated instead, striking cobalt blue orbs boring into hers.

Andrea's mouth fell open at the intensity of his gaze, it stole her words. It was rare for Daryl Dixon to show any range of emotion openly or say anything about his feelings but here he was, talking to her. Albeit with his eyes but still, Andrea was certain even this was incredibly alien to him.

Nodding once, Andrea took the smallest step closer to him, hesitant, "Okay." She promised firmly, "I'll stay close, won't wander again, promise."

Daryl nodded back mutely, satisfied and Andrea held his gaze, trying to say more with her own eyes instead of her words just like he had.

He lifted his head, looking away fleetingly then back. Andrea took that as acknowledgement and smiled.

Clearing his throat, Daryl tore his eyes from her annoyingly entrancing blue-green orbs and nodded briskly, "Best keep movin'."

Andrea took a complying step back again, "Of course."

The redneck brushed past her and Andrea inhaled. That moment—however brief—had bestowed upon her, rare insight into the real Daryl Dixon; the man behind the gruff, aggressive and foul-mouthed redneck loner persona. And Andrea realised, with surprising delight, that she liked what she had found hiding there.

But as she watched him mosey on ahead of her, Andrea decided that it wasn't enough to hope he'd understood she had to make sure he had.

"Daryl?" she called gently, hands moving to slide her fingers into the front two pockets of her pants.

He stopped, paused, there was something in her voice that made him do so and when he turned to face the lawyer whose profession was as dead as the world they now lived in, Daryl tensed, and his walls flew up already on guard and all she'd said was his name.

Andrea fixed him with a knowing stare of blue and green, a small smile pulling at her lips, "You care."

Daryl stared, head cocked at her curiously.

"You really care." Andrea repeated softly, watching him just as curiously, "About this group—our group, you care about us. You pretend you don't but you feed us and protect us and you always come back."

Daryl listened to her ramble on and on, her words making him ever more uncomfortable. Her eyes—the way she was looking at him, right at him, made him feel the most vulnerable he had in a very long time.

Andrea smiled, eyes incredulous, "I don't get it. I don't understand why you stick around but you do and I am so grateful because honestly Daryl..." she shook her head slowly, blonde tresses framing her sun-kissed face, "...we wouldn't have survived this long without you."

Daryl blinked in surprise then he stared at her with wide and sceptical eyes, snorting loudly as he turned away.

Andrea rolled her eyes, expecting as much from him but dashed forwards, grabbing his elbow, "Hey!" the petite blonde tried to spin him back but the redneck wouldn't budge.

Glaring at the back of his head, Andrea huffed, ducking around to his front, "I'm serious, Dixon!" she persisted through clenched teeth, "We'd be literally lost without your tracking skills and knowledge of the woods, not to mention we'd be starving if it wasn't for your skills as a hunter." Andrea added with an arched eyebrow and a small smirk.

Daryl scowled at her, eyes narrow and disbelieving.

Andrea's smirk fell, blue-green orbs turning serious again, "We need you, Daryl and we take you for granted and..." she sighed heavily, "...I don't know if we've ever really thanked you for it all so..." clearing her throat, Andrea held his gaze and placed her right hand on the tall mans shoulder, "...thank you, Daryl."

He stared at her in silence, too stunned to form words and too thrown by her sincerity to really try. She was shittin' him, makin' a fool she had to be but the longer Daryl held the lawyers gaze the more sincere she became.

"I mean that." Andrea continued with a soft smile, hand still on his shoulder, "I get why you make us think you don't really give a shit but..." she lifted her shoulders, "...look at all you've done for us, for Carol and Sophia especially."

Daryl's scowl deepened, regarding her like she'd just spouted a second head right in front of him.

Andrea's features clouded over with a sudden darkness that stole some of the opposing colour from her eyes, "In fact, I think it'd be a pretty accurate assumption that you've most likely done more for that little girl these last few days than her waste of space, bastard father ever did in her twelve years of life."

Anger surged though Daryl's veins at the mention of Ed. He fuckin' hated that son of a bitch! When he focused again on the woman before him, she'd taken a step closer and was once again invading his personal space. He was surprised to find that he wasn't as pissed off as he should be.

Both of her hands now on his shoulders, Andrea smiled warmly at him and stated quite confidently, "You are a good man, Daryl Dixon."

That was it. Daryl's muscled twitched. That was enough, she was freakin' him the fuck out. Where the hell was suicidal bitchy blonde lawyer Andrea from before? Shrugging her hands off of him, Daryl stormed forwards. He wanted that version of Blondie back, this one...she just confounded him even more.

Andrea dropped her arms, letting them fall limply at her sides.

"Wha'ver, Blondie." Daryl spat over his shoulder, tryin' to shake the tingling her touch had left behind from his skin, "Don' fuckin' touch me again."

Andrea merely smirked, turning slowly with a falsely incredulous chuckle, "Well, damn, Dixon...you really don't know how to take a compliment or two do ya?" she responded easily, a genuine smile of amusement twisting her lips.

Daryl grumbled darkly in response to her and Andrea let loose a light bout of laughter as she chased to catch up.

~T.W.D~

'Well? How terrible was it? lol. Was the characterization all off? I tried not to let that happen but I've never written these characters before
so trial and error applies here.

Please review, regardless of how much it did or did not suck cause I would really love to know your thoughts.

Thanks for reading! :)
Rachel xoxo