Hello All,
Well I've been away for a bit. I was frustrated with myself for never finishing a story I start. So I've been writing this one on my phone just to see if I would stick with it. Well, I've learned I will likely never finish a story, so I'm asking your forgiveness in advance. I do have 15 chapters of this one written so hopefully that will be good enough.
Anyway, this story jumps right into Season 2 (with references to some deleted scenes from the DVD), where our favorite merry band of travelers are stranded by the road looking for Sophia. My OC is Emory Phillips, a single, intelligent woman whose about 28 years old. The image in my head is Rachel Weisz from the character she played in the Bourne Legacy. Sort of sexy librarian.
If you've read anything else I've written, you already know I am partial to Daryl/OC in fanfiction though I love a good Caryl story also.
So, thanks in advance...and here we go.
"Gimme back my damn gun, Dale! It was a gift from my father!" Andrea insisted, angry frustration literally radiating off of her as she glared back up at the older man.
Emory raised her head at Andrea's tone and looked around for her friend. As one of the only other single, professional women in the group they'd bonded early on. So she could tell something wasn't right. They were all preparing to head out to find Sophia, so why in God's name would Dale start messing with Andrea again.
"He has got to let this go," Emory muttered under her breath and shook her head, wiping some escaped strands off her shoulder. She abandoned the truck she'd been rummaging through and made her way closer to Andrea and Dale, leaning up against the hot metal of the RV to listen better in on their 'discussion'.
Emory didn't like to admit that she made a habit out of eavesdropping but in reality she'd essentially made a career out of it. Plus it wasn't like Andrea and Dale were even trying to be discrete.
Andrea was now hot and sweaty, and irritated as all hell. Dale was really starting to piss her off. But at least she no longer felt numb. But she was in no mood to be told by Dale, of all people, that she couldn't carry her own damn gun.
"Sorry, but only Rick, Daryl and I are carrying today. Can't have ya'll popping off rounds every time a tree rustles." Shane swaggered over and took over the discussion. His tone once again resumed his usual 'I'm the cop and you're not' mantra.
Shane's bullshit reasoning and self-assumed superiority only served to grate even more on Andrea's nerves ...Emory's too. Emory never felt terribly friendly towards Shane, and not even because of his relationship with Lori. It was mainly the way he just assumed the position of cop-in-charge. To be fair, she could have challenged him ...but at the time Emory didn't really saw much benefit...and a whole lotta downside.
And it wasn't because he was a small town sheriff. Emory always got along well with local law enforcement. She would always take the time to involve them and keep them in the loop...appreciating the valuable local insight they had that the FBI often didn't have. And if you treated them respectfully they usually returned the favor. She doubted Shane would have been any more agreeable pre-apocalypse than he was now.
'Christ almighty! We do not have time for this,' she muttered and stepped out from the side of the RV to make her presence known.
"Excuse me, Shane? I don't recall being consulted on this decision? And it is a group decision. It's been my experience since we made camp at the quarry, that everyone has handled their firearms with the impressive responsibility?" Emory's spine stiffened at the absurdity of this whole discussion.
"And Dale, taking Andrea's gun will not keep her from killing herself. If she doesn't want to live, all she has to do is get bitten." Emory looked the old man directly in his eyes. She recognized the desperation and worry in them but Andrea nodded her agreement, folding her arms at her chest.
"Its just not safe to have untrained folks carrying weapons with live rounds in camp," Shane did his best to sound thoughtful and reasonable, all the time empathetic to Dale's concern.
"So it just now became a problem? Not at the CDC? Not at the nursing home? But here? And who decides who is and isn't sufficiently trained? Let me take a wild guess. You!" Emory let her sarcasm drip from every syllable, letting Shane know exactly how little she thought of this decision. Damn she was so close to telling him that she was FBI and was here to take over, like she would have enjoyed doing six months ago.
"Your concerns are duly noted! Now just give us our guns so we can end this silliness and go find Sophia!" Emory crossed her arms across her chest along with Andrea, refusing to take no for an answer. When he didn't move, Emory escalated.
"If you don't Dale, then I'll have no choice but to be on my way ... with my guns and ammo too!" Emory's voice became eerily calm which was actually more fierce in its softness.
"Me too," Andrea sided with Emory.
"And me," Emory's neck nearly snapped in half when she saw it was Daryl speaking up.
She faintly heard Lori and the others gasp in shock...and disbelief.
"And me too," T-Dog stepped behind Emory, his arm crudely bandaged.
"This is not necessary Emory. Lets not do anything rash," Rick joined into de-escalate the situation.
"I agree with you Rick. This is completely unnecessary. We're wasting valuable time when we should be out looking for Sophia," Emory retorted. This time it was Carol who approached, also backing Emory.
Rick looked around and assessed he was scarily close to an insurrection or a mass exodus. Rick made his decision and then nodded to Dale to return the guns.
"You know that I'm not comfortable with this, Rick!" Dale reasserted his position, practically pouting.
"We have a lost little girl out there and we need to find her. How comfortable will you be if we're even just a few seconds too late?" Emory hated being mean, but Sophia's life was at sake.
After another minute of uncomfortable silence with everyone glaring, Rick ordered Dale. "Dale, give Andrea and Emory back their guns. Now!"
"Rick, please? This is a bad idea," Dale still protested. But after a thoughtful moment, he returned with the guns.
To everyone's surprise, after everyone had their firearms, Emory pulled Dale into a hug.
"I get it. I really do...but she's not yours to save," Emory planted a quick peck on his rough, bearded cheek. As she headed to grab her pack she walked over to Carol and wrapped her arms around the frantic woman.
"WE WILL FIND HER," Emory promised and prayed her confidence wasn't unfounded. Truth was, it became less and less likely that they would find Sophia alive with each passing hour.
"Thank you Emory," Carol wiped away her useless tears, far too wise not to know that Emory's words were useless platitudes...despite how truly heartfelt.
Emory had to run to catch up with Daryl. He'd left the drama the minute he saw Rick concede. Primarily because he was confused and perplexed by the sharp slice of pain he'd felt when he'd thought Emory might actually leave the group.
Daryl always moved fast and quiet through the woods and Emory was one of the few people in the group that could keep up with him...plus she didn't piss him off by clunking around and scaring off the game.
He'd even let her to go hunting with him a few times back at the quarry. She wasn't an experienced hunter but she was fast and picked things up quickly. He still remembered the night he overheard Shane warning Emory about "Those Dixon boys". Which was why he'd been surprised as hell when she was up the next morning, bright and early, waiting for him. And a cautious friendship had been born.
Daryl paused for a second and waited for Emory to catch up. He watched her run towards him and allowed himself a second to notice how pretty she was. He even noticed how he'd actually started looking forward to those moments, which were his and his alone.
He knew she'd been pissed at Dale, but now her face was smiling. She seemed to have already let go of any remnants of animosity. He'd never known anyone as forgiving and he was was worried it might end up getting her killed.
As she got closer he could see her skin already glowing with a thin sheen of sweat that somehow seemed to only enhance her beauty. She was tall, but not quite as tall as Lori. Still she was a half a foot shorter than him. In heels she'd be right about to...
What the fuck ya thinkin' 'bout her in heels? Ain't got no business thinkin' that shit. He mentally scolded himself.
He forced himself to remember that Emory wasn't even 'hot' ...at least not by 'Merle's' definition of 'hot'. Meaning she didn't have brassy blond highlights, a spray tan, or even big fake boobs. Daryl hadn't personally verified, but he was fairly certain that Emory's tits were real.
She kind of reminded him of this pretty school teacher that used to drop her piece of shit Chevy at the garage where he and Merle worked. Daryl at one time even fantasized about asking her out. But when Merle caught him looking at her, he gave Daryl so much shit that Daryl just gave up.
Emory's long dark, chestnut hair was once-again messily twisted into a knot, her usual hairdo these days. Her large silver eyes glowed with intelligence under thick sooty lashes.
"Would you have really left the group?" Daryl voice was so low, she barely heard him.
He cocked his head to the side as he looked back at her, doing his damnedest NOT to notice the rivulets of sweat slowly sliding down her neck.
The woman had balls that was for damn sure. Going up against Shane, Dale...and even Rick? But it was the realization that she might actually leave the group that hit him the hardest and he was utterly unprepared for how his gut had twisted into painful knots at the possibility. And why he'd backed her play. And it hadn't just been posturing either. He would have left with her. Hell, it'd likely be the smartest thing he'd done in months.
"Maybe, but not before we found Sophia. And Daryl?" She waited for him to turn and look back at her.
"Thanks for having my back just then... and for before!" She didn't specify what for exactly but she knew he knew.
"If ya ever do thinka leavin' ...," Daryl struggled to finish, feeling awkward at even hinting that she might matter to him. Or that she might have a little bit to do with why he was still here. That, plus he had nowhere else to go.
"Of course. Same goes?" Emory asked and Daryl nodded. She didn't need him to finish...and she also knew how hard it had been for him to reveal as much as he had. She couldn't help but smile at his back as they headed into the woods.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
Emory stayed close behind Daryl as he expertly navigated the dense forest. Rick and the others, minus Dale and T-Dog, followed behind. Emory tried to scan the thick foliage for any sign of Sophia, but occasionally she caught herself staring at Daryl's finely sculpted biceps...and his ass. And then she yelled at herself, biting her lip as punishment.
Emory had to stifle a gasp when Daryl suddenly stiffened and spun in place to grab her shoulders. He effectively stilled Emory, then signaled to the others to silently hurry up. Emory looked over Daryl's shoulder and saw why he stopped. It was a lone tent in the middle of the woods. A perfect place for Sophia to hide.
"Carol, call to her. If she's in there it will help to hear your voice," Rick explained.
"Sophia? Sophia honey, its Mommy. I'm right here baby. You can come out," Carol's voice wavered with tears. When there was no answer Daryl disappeared into the tent for a minute while Emory consoled Carol.
"What'sin there?" Rick asked.
"Just some guy. Did what Jenner said. Opted out," Daryl explained very matter-of-factly but Emory sensed something was off. But before she could figure it out, the forest reverberated with the loud clanging of bells.
"Maybe its Sophia?" Carol hoped aloud, and they all began running towards the source.
Daryl easily ran ahead with Emory racing to keep pace ... soon they reached a small clearing with an equally small Baptist church...and and equally small cemetery off to the side.
"Rick. This cain't be it. There's no steeple. " Shane focused on the lack of steeple, but they all ran towards the church anyway. Rick, Daryl and Shane quickly eliminated three walkers inside.
Emory couldn't help but notice the irony of the walkers just sitting there in the pews...as if they too were praying. Likely had been at one time.
"JC? Ya takin' requests?" Daryl asked snidely before marching angrily back down the aisle, frustrated they hadn't found Sophia here.
"Rick? I'm telling ya. This cain't be the church. There's no damn steeple," Shane insisted, sincerely afraid that Sophia might be at a different church. Then those same bells clanged again, far more loudly.
Daryl was the first to race outside and find the outdoor speakers. Daryl just kicked the church in anger and frustration but Glenn opened up the weather-proof panel and switched the bells off.
"A timer! Its on a damn timer," Daryl sighed with exhaustion before storming away to clear his head.
"I think I'm gonna go back in for a minute," Carol's eyes watered with tears of disappointment.
Emory wasn't religious ...never had been...but given all that Carol was going through, she couldn't blame the woman for clinging to anything that might comfort her.
Emory decided to wander over to the cemetery. For some reason she'd always found comfort in cemeteries. She took her time and strolled among the headstones, fascinated by all she could glean. For example, there had obviously been a very influential Greene family in the area at one time. The Greenes had the largest and fanciest headstones. She hopped up onto the next great head stone and took a moment to simply relax and try and breathe. She figured the long deceased Hester Greene would forgive her.
She arched her back to stretch out her spine, then stretched her obliques side to side. She couldn't help but think about Sophia and prayed the little girl was ok. She was so damn young...and so little...and ... Hell, that little girl never has been alone.
Stop it, she scolded herself. You're just making yourself crazy.
Her gaze instinctively sought out Daryl and she watched him meander around the overgrown church grounds, but after a while he eventually wandered over to stand beside Emory. Emory acknowledged that she had been thinking about Daryl a lot lately. And not in a, 'did he catch enough food for us today' sort of way.
"Daryl? Is your behind feeling ok?" Emory smirked when he snapped his head around to stare at her, obviously unnerved by her question.
"The hell ya talkin' 'bout?" Daryl's head snapped to look at her.
"Either you've developed a nasty, fast-growing tumor on your ass or you took something from that tent," Emory commented.
"Ya been starin' at my ass?" Daryl accused yet clearly impressed that she'd been observant enough to pick up on it.
"I HAVE been walking behind you all day," Her silver eyes twinkled and she refused to back down. "And since I've become somewhat of an expert on your ass today, I can detect when something is askew."
"Shut up," he blushed, unused to being teased. Or flirted with. "My ass ain't ...askew!"
Emory on the other hand was quite used to working with men...all kinds of men. From corporate executives, to FBI careers, to drill rig operators.
Emory earned her phD from MIT in petroleum engineering ... fat lot of good that did her anymore. Instead of accepting that high paying job BP offered her, the FBI came calling and recruited her...convinced her what a noble calling it was.
After FBI training she'd been assigned to work undercover in Texas ad then the 'man-camps' of Wyoming to infiltrate to try and infiltrate a large scale drug running operation. She'd had no choice but to toughen up and develop a thick skin as she quickly learned the FBI was far more misogynistic than any Wyoming 'man camp'. She quickly learned to give as good as she got.
She'd still yet to tell anyone in the group that she was FBI, instead electing to keep to her cover story...oil company exec in Atlanta to finalize some contracts. And then shit happened and somehow the right opportunity to tell anyone the truth never seemed to present itself. And as time went by it just mattered less and less what anyone did pre-Wildfire (the CDC's term for this zombie apocalypse).
"I'm sorry Daryl, I didn't mean to embarrass you" Emory was sincere in her apology and that seemed soften the tight lines around Daryl's eyes. "Its a bad habit that I need to break."
"But you do have a rather peculiar bulge on your left butt cheek. Can I assume you found the gun tent-guy 'opted out' with?" Emory offered her hypothesis, her ankles hooking together and swinging over Hester's long dead body.
"Yea, I s'ppose ya prob'ly can," he glanced around to make sure it was still just the two of them. She always liked it when he did that. It made her feel special for some reason.
"Cool," she smiled her megawatt smile at him. Daryl tried futilely to ignore the electric warmth that zinged through him.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
"So they're whidling us down into smaller and smaller groups," Daryl groused as he lead what was left of the remaining group which was now only Emory, Lori, Carol, Glenn and Andrea.
Daryl couldn't stop himself from frequently glancing backwards to spot check Emory. He'd become accustomed to having her right on his heels so when she held back to walk with Carol it made him uneasy. And he hated that she could make him feel so fricken' uneasy simply by the lack of her nearness.
But the single gunshot that had reverberated through the forest a half hour ago was gnawing a hole in his gut...and everyone else's. Something was fuckin' wrong. And Rick, Shane and Carl were still out there on their own.
"Come on, lets just keep looking for Sophia...and get everyone safely back to the highway," Emory calmly spoke and pulled Daryl's hand. It unnerved her when Daryl got grim, mostly because his instincts were nearly always accurate.
But Daryl's attention was elsewhere and he jerked his arm out of her hand. He'd caught the last half of Andrea and Carol's conversation and it was still burning his ass. He ignored Emory's protest and turned and marched backwards to stare Carol straight in the face.
"All this hoping and praying ain't worth a damn thing. Cuz we're gonna find that little girl. And she's gunna be jus' fine. Hell! Am I the only one zen around here?" Daryl spun on his heel and stormed back off to lead then onward.
Emory couldn't help but grin at Daryl's back, mouthing 'zen'?. So they continued slogging through the woods, staying close to the creek and calling Sophia's name.
Even since she'd teased him earlier today about his ass, now she couldn't seem to manage to NOT stare at his ass. And a mighty fine ass it was. But it was his arms she enjoyed watching the most.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" She berated herself. I have got to stop looking at that poor man like he's dessert or a piece of meat.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
They hurried to make their way back to the highway, particularly since Daryl was getting more and more anxious about losing the daylight. He did not want to get stuck out here in the dark with a bunch of rubes.
"How much further?" Andrea complained, clearly exhausted. She was convinced they'd been walking in circles...each tree looking much like the last.
"About a mile...as the crow flies," Daryl looked around to get his bearings.
"Too bad we aren't crows," Andrea huffed and puffed then marched away in the direction Daryl pointed. But barely a minute later, Andrea's terrified screams broke the silence.
"Andrea!" Emory screamed back as she immediately raced through the forest towards her friend's desperate cries. She couldn't find Andrea at first but finally she saw why. Andrea had fallen to the ground and the gun, the one she'd fought so hard to get from Dale, was thrown more than 10 feet away. And the walker was bearing down on Andrea.
Emory had her Sig aimed, but before she could squeeze the trigger a large chestnut quarterhorse came barreling out through the forest, a young female rider swinging a baseball bat knocked the walker some ten feet away clear of Andrea.
"Lori Grimes?" The pretty rider yelled/asked at Andrea, obviously having no idea who Lori was.
"I'm Lori Grimes," Emory watched Lori's fairer than fair skin blanche even paler. And Daryl stiffened at the imminent probability of losing another member of the group.
"You gotta come with me NOW. There's been an accident and Carl's been shot! Rick needs you!" The horse-woman shouted in short, clipped phrases. Lori instantly dropped her backpack, climbed up on the back of the horse and went galloping off ... Daryl protesting the entire time.
"I'm starting to feel like I might be in that movie 'And Then There Were None'." Emory joined in with Daryl's grousing.
"Whatever. Lets just get the rest of us the fuck back." Daryl sighed, shaking his head.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
"Where are the others?" Dale started snapping and demanding answers the instant Glenn climbed up over the railing. Dale heard the single shot a long time ago...and assumed the worse. Which explained why his shoulders relaxed the instant Andrea came marching up behind Glenn.
"Rick, Shane and Carl stayed back to search. Then suddenly some lady on a horse came riding in on a horse like Zorro. Said Carl'd been shot so Lori went with her," Glenn tried to quickly pexplain, helping the scared yet still pissed off Andrea up over the guard rail.
"And YOU let her?" Dale just instantly accused Daryl.
"Climb outta my ass old man. Rick sent her. She knew Carl and Rick's name," Daryl had had enough of all these dumbasses for one day.
But then, Daryl halted and turned back around to offer Emory a hand, his strong shoulders literally yanking her all the way up the highway embankment.
He yanked her up with such force, she had to throw her hands up to his chest to brace herself from the momentum. And in that split second her silver eyes captured his cobalt blue ones. Her throat instantly became dry as a desert and she had to actually remember to breathe.
"Thanks," Emory finally managed to swallow, then after another breath she turned and left to catch up with, a still distraught, Andrea.
Daryl too had finally managed to swallow with great difficulty. He'd been thinking about Emory ever since her comment about watching his ass all day. Since then he'd been watching her ass...or admitting to himself how much time he'd already spent admiring her ass. Tight and firm under those denim jeans. Her hands, long and slim. Her tits...shit, shit, shit. Stop it ... Stop it... ya idiot. She's a fancy educated woman. Way outta yer league. She was just teasing yer pathetic ass anyway.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
Tensions were still strained, to say the least, after Dale's outburst. But when they all learned just how ill T-Dog was, they instantly simmered down to focus on the important things. Family!
Daryl stomped off and returned with Merle's stash secured in a ratty remnant of a large ziplock bag (freezer strength). He tossed Glenn a bottle of heavy duty antibiotics and painkillers, tossing the Ectasy and the Meth back into the ziplock bag. Merle would beat his ass if he threw away his stash.
Emory couldn't help but hone in on the crystal blue meth in the baggie. It took all she had not to break down in hysterical laughter at the irony...practically thrown in her face. For a very short time, she'd been convinced she was making a difference in getting meth off the streets, particularly the extremely pure "blue". She told herself she'd been saving lives. But she'd learned years ago that Drugs won the 'War on Drugs' a long time ago.
But they simply couldn't compete with all the power, influence, and the guns. And most important of all ... an insatiable demand for the product. Emory knew she'd become cynical, a large factor in why she'd requested the transfer to white collar a year ago.
"We need to get to this place," Dale had the RV up and running...he'd actually had it running for some time.
"I'm not leaving. What if Sophia comes back and I'm not here," Carol had to bite down on her hand to keep from breaking down. But her tears streamed uncontrollably.
"I'm staying. Tomorrow's soon enough to pull up stakes. It'll give us time to make a sign...leave her some supplies." Daryl succinctly and humbly voiced his plan.
"I'm staying too," Emory promised and pretty soon everyone was in on the plan.
"Not you Glenn. If there's a chance they have a doctor then we've got to get T-Dog there," Dale insisted, clearly concerned about T-Dog.
Under heavy protest, Glenn finally agreed and took Carol's jeep and drove T-Dog to this farm.
Carol however was beyond grateful that the others had insisted on staying behind to keep looking for her daughter.
"Hey Carol. You know we won't stop until Sophia is found," Emory came over to hug the petite woman. Emory held her at arms length then gently wiped her tears away.
"Carol, we WILL find her. I mean, do you really think that Daryl won't find her? That man could find a golden rabbit turd in those woods. Sophia will be a piece of cake. The fact that we didn't find her today is probably a good sign. It likely means she's already found shelter elsewhere or with someone like that family that's helping Carl." Emory gave Carol her best pep talk.
"Yeah. That does make sense." Carol nodded and forced a smile on her face.
"I'ma find her Carol " Daryl promised out loud. The thought of that little girl alone out there was killing him.
Thank you Daryl," Carol did her best to believe. With sunken shoulders Carol made her way to the RV.
-/-/-
Carol was in no condition to cook and Andrea sucked at it even worse than Emory, so Emory had to step up. She heated up some scavenged cans of soup, beans and mixed fruit, jazzing it up with Dale's remaining spices.
"Hey Emory," Dale called down to her from his spot up on the RV. Emory climbed up to bring him a warm bowl.
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about today... about the guns! You were right," Dale hated to admit it, but he was old enough and mature enough to do so.
"I know! And I also know that when we're hurting, we often aren't thinking clearly. We've already all lost so many. And I know how afraid you are about losing Andrea too. I know how much you love her. " Emory wasn't one to hold a grudge...not anymore. What was the point?
"Whatcha got there?" Emory eyed the guitar Dale had set beside him.
"The guitar? I found it while looking for meds for T-Dog. I thought maybe Glenn played. But he doesn't." Dale chuckled.
"May I?" She reached for it, immediately soothed by the smooth, polished wood. She took a while, twisting the knobs and plucking strings since it was badly out of tune and a little warped, but she soon had it sounding decent. Then she began strumming an old favorite.
"I didn't know you played?" Dale encouraged, sensing the calming change in Emory. She hesitated at first, but then began to slowly strum:
"If I Die Young
Bury Me In Satin
Lay Me Down on a Bed of Roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors
Oh, and life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even gray, but she buries her baby"
Emory stopped, suddenly feeling embarrassed at how she'd let the song take her away to a better time.
"Don't stop! That was lovely," Dale was more than surprised that she was so good.
"It was kind of a grim song choice ... all things considered," Emory smiled, but then with an impish grin she changed up the tempo.
"All the other kids with the pumped up kicks,
You better run, better run, outrun my gun.
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks,
You better run, better run, faster than my bullet."
"Cute!" Dale chuckled. "But I think I liked the other one better."
"I haven't played in ages. Not since ...well in a very long while," Emory almost slipped and revealed too much. That was what she hated most about being undercover. The constant lying. Not because she was bad at it. But rather, how good she was at it."
"Well, I think this guitar has found its owner," Dale nodded, grateful to have cleared the air between them.
"What is this? Like the 'wand chooses the wizard'?" Emory joked, hoping Dale was a Harry Potter fan.
"Something like that. Just don't start calling me Olivander," Dale teased back.
"You do kind of look like him," Emory teased. Taking the guitar with her, Emory climbed down from atop the RV and went inside to get some much needed rest.
TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD
Emory was beyond exhausted when she entered Dale's RV. Carol was lying on the bed in the back sniffling, her sobbing actually shaking the RV.
Daryl had already made himself a pallet in the aisle. Andrea immediately pulled the curtains between the driver's seats and and the rest of the RV to make her own bed. But instead of sleeping she just sat there assembling and reassembling her weapon the way Shane taught her.
Emory had no option but to crawl over Daryl to set the dinette down into a bed. After figuring out the contraption, she took a moment to undo her hair knot, massaging her scalp while her dark hair curled and cascaded around her shoulders. Daryl couldn't help but watch and wonder if her hair could possibly feel as soft as it looked.
"Damn Daryl! Is there anywhere you can't sleep?" Emory finally folded her bed down and leaned up on her elbow to look down upon on him.
Daryl opened one eye to look back up at her and wondered if that's how she looked in the morning after a wild night. All smiling and mussed...her voice husky and warm like whiskey. You'll never know so stop wasting time thinking on it, he yelled at himself.
"Yeah...in here." Daryl groaned then pulled himself into a crunch. His eyes looked back at the distraught Carol then he scrambled to get up. Once he slipped his vest on, he asked Andrea for his clip.
Emory hurried to catch up with him once she realized he was going back out. She slid her tall leather boots and jacket back on, grabbing her clip from her own stash (she didn't really trust Dale yet with her ammo). She looked out into the dark to spot him, then ran to catch up with him.
"Emory, its not safe!" Dale called out from his perch on the RV.
"I'll be fine Dale. Daryl just wants to shine a light in case Sophia can see it," Emory knew this was more about Daryl feeling helpless than the fact they might actually find Sophia tonight. In fact, she prayed Sophia was holed up somewhere and not wandering around at night.
Dale seemed to finally 'get it' and he returned to his perch.
"Hey, wait up," Emory whisper-yelled at Daryl's back.
"Whatcha doin' out here? Don't need ya," Daryl turned to snap, his voice venomous.
"That's just super! So is it that you don't need me...or that you don't need anyone?" She punched him. He figured she'd hit like a girl so was unprepared for the sharp pain in his shoulder.
"Don't need you...or them!" Daryl snapped, his eyes rimmed red from fatigue.
"We both know that's not true. We all need somebody. Even you," She wanted to comfort him. But the way he was now, it would be akin to hugging a pissed off porcupine.
"You know we need to stick together," Emory finished.
"That's real rich when ya was the one threatenin' leavin' today," Daryl turned to face her.
"I thought you agreed with me. I can't stay if they won't let me protect myself and the group!" Emory grabbed his shirtsleeve, her blood pressure elevating.
Daryl stared at her face, luminous now in the silvery-blue moonlight and knew he would have a hard time denying her anything.
"Come on...lets walk," Daryl pulled her along until she kept pace. Soon they'd entered the woods but Emory still felt safe. Like she always did with Daryl.
"Can we find her?" Emory hated to voice her fear, and Daryl was the only person she felt free enough with to do so.
"Christ woman! It ain't the mountains of Tibet! It's Georgia!" Daryl huffed at even the possibility of not finding her.
"Yeah, you're right," Emory laughed then took a chance and hip checked him.
"Hey!" He protested, then checked her back.
"You ever been to Tibet?" Emory asked.
"Yeah. Right" Daryl snorted in derision.
"Hey? How am I supposed to know? You never tell me anything about your past. You could have been in the service. Maybe you were a famous mountain climber?" Emory teased him. She figured this was not the best time to mention the six months she'd spent in Nepal.
"I worked as a car mechanic ... did some handyman work when I could. Barely got outta high school," Daryl admitted despite his feeling ashamed. But he trusted her, even though he couldn't figure out exactly why.
"Daryl, do you think I don't know how smart you are, or how 'observant' you are," she grinned, reminding him of that little lesson he'd given Andrea back at the destroyed Vato's nursing home.
"And the others do too. I have a phD and Dale has a Master's degree in history but if any one of this group had to choose who to go it alone with, I guarantee you, each and everyone of them would choose you." Emory's eyes told him she was dead serious.
Daryl stared back at her, his eyes glinting as he squinted them. He wanted to believe her but in the back of his mind he just couldn't. But maybe he was just good for survival...but then what? Throw him over for the next best thing?
"Stop yer lollygagging! I was nine when I got lost in the woods for way more'n a week. No harm done," Daryl pulled her along. She reached for his hand initially just to hold him back but then decided she'd hold on for a while longer.
Daryl flinched at first and then stopped for a second, but still Emory held her grip and smiled up at him. Then she threaded her fingers. He stiffened reflexively, so Emory let go. She was grateful for the darkness so he couldn't see her blush...but nor did she see the reddish flush form on Daryl's cheeks.
