Daryl and Michonne had cleared a truck stop of walkers a few days before, but said there was plenty more useful stock left, and the run should be relatively safe, so - did Carol want to get out of the prison for a change? Daryl barked out a laugh as she whooped and bolted for their cell to grab her pack, so fast he almost looked to see if she'd left smoking tracks.
At the truck stop, they split up into pairs - Daryl and Glenn to check the trucks abandoned in the lot first for walkers, then tools, food, or other useful pickings; Michonne and Carol to the convenience store section.
They found a bakery cart full of moldy bread and dumped it so they could load up the shelves with canned goods, any boxes that hadn't been mouse-nibbled, whatever looked salvageable. There was always a fine balance between getting in and out quickly, and grabbing as many supplies as they could each trip, to make the gas count - triaging what they picked up for usability came in third, but not by much.
They were nearly through the shelves and Michonne was guiding the loaded cart back out to the truck when Carol noticed another door toward the back of the store, almost hidden between the last set of shelves and the restrooms. Stepping quietly off to the side, listening for any tell-tale rustles or thumps, she stretched out a toe to bump the swinging door and quickly drew back, gun held before her. Nothing.
The bold black and red letters on the sign read, "MUST BE 18 TO ENTER. VIDEO SURVEILLANCE IN USE." Carol used her forearm to push the door open, holding the gun low in her free hand, squinting into the darkness and listening hard to be sure she didn't have company in there. All she could see were a black-painted counter and some sort of display cabinet, and beyond that, ranks of metal racks, and some kind of clothing, maybe t-shirts, hanging off the wall.
She stepped back out, letting the door swing closed, and spotted Michonne coming in the front. "Michonne!" she hissed, drawing the other woman's attention. She gestured to the hidden door and stage-whispered, "I think it's clear, but it's pitch-dark in there and I'm not sure." Michonne nodded and moved to Carol's side, handing her an over-sized flashlight and speaking in a low voice. "As soon as I go through, hit that, but keep the light low or you'll blind me." Carol was grateful to follow Michonne's experienced lead - as well as her deadly katana.
The flashlight gleamed off the chrome wire racks, and Michonne's cautious tread came to a dead stop in front of the first. Suddenly she waved Carol back, and reversed course at high speed. Carol, utterly panicked, turned and ran for the exit, but was brought up short by the sound of peals of laughter. Michonne was bent over in front of the door, clutching her thighs and cackling hysterically. Straightening and finally catching her breath, she grinned wickedly at Carol. "Oh, girl, that's the best laugh I've had in months. Do you know what kind of jackpot you've found? It's a porn shop. Or an 'adult video store', whatever you want to call it. Come on," she said, her eyes sparkling. "Help me prop the door open so we've got some light to see by. I want to see what other sort of goodies they've got. Don't worry - if there were any walkers in here, we'd know by now."
Carol hung back, unsure if she even wanted to know what kinds of things were sold in a sleazy place like that. She had known they existed, obviously, but never in a million, trillion years would she have expected to set foot inside one. Finally her curiosity got the best of her and she crept inside. Confronted by a parade of explicit images all around her - breasts and penises and mouths, oh my! - her face flamed immediately and she pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling their searing heat. Michonne was stalking around with the flashlight, chuckling to herself from time to time, and once letting out a crow of triumph, Yesss! as she found something she particularly liked.
The t-shirt rack turned out to hold a small selection of naughty underwear and other sexy clothes, and Michonne waved a couple of things at Carol, saying, "You really need to get over here and check this stuff out. Who knows when we'll ever see anything like this again, and I think you should give Daryl a treat!" Carol was mortified at the thought. A woman her age had no business displaying herself in that kind of trashy get-up - that was the kind of thing that young women with taut bodies got to do, not 40-something-year-old mothers with poochy bellies and saggy breasts.
"I am so sad right now that we don't have any way of playing DVDs back at the prison," said Michonne, coming up with her arms full of pleather and red lace and shiny spandex. "We could definitely spice the ol' place up with what's in here. Here, I got you something." Carol automatically reached out and took the wisp of black lacy fabric from Michonne's hand - what must be a pair of panties, but there was so little to them, she wasn't even sure how you were supposed to put them on. "They're crotchless," remarked Michonne, sorting through her plunder on the counter. "Give that man a thrill. I doubt he's ever seen anything like that on a real live girl."
Michonne took her armload of goodies out into the store and stuffed them into her duffel bag. As Carol turned to follow her out, she caught a glimpse of what lay in the front case, and her face went crimson again. Not anatomically correct, by any means, but there could be no doubt what purpose those were designed for.
Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a warm fluttering in her belly. Years before, she had thought about buying herself a vibrator, but that's as far as it went - she knew that if Ed had ever found such a thing in his home, he would literally have killed her. Only filthy whores knew about such things, according to Ed, just as only filthy whores wanted sex to feel good. She had learned differently since then, had learned to appreciate just how good it could be with a man who wanted nothing more than to please her, but this was one thing she was having trouble seeing in that new light.
She heard Daryl's boots out in the main lobby, just as his voice cut through the quiet. "Carol! Michonne! We got company comin', let's GO!" She stuffed the little lace panties in her pocket and started toward the door, but stopped and ran back, ducking under the counter's access panel. She stared at the display for a moment, then selected a long, heavily-veined, pearly-blue model and dropped it into her pack. Batteries, she thought wildly. What kind of batteries does it take? She dropped to her knees and yanked open the drawer under the cabinet, and was rewarded by the sight of several dozen packages of batteries of various sizes. Batteries were always a must-get, and she grabbed them with both hands, cramming them in on top of her prize. She zipped the pack closed and picked up a couple that had fallen to the floor.
"CAROL!" Daryl's voice was heated. "Get the hell out here, we're goin'!" She ran for the door, her head spinning with images of what her pack held. "Batteries," she explained, waving a package as she slid into the seat next to him. "That's good," he nodded. "Can always use those. But when I say 'go,' that means we gotta go. Can't be dawdlin', even for something good, y'hear?"
"Yes, sir, I understand. I won't make that mistake again." He made a mouth and side-eyed her, a little irritated.
"Looky what I got," smirked Michonne, leaning forward to show them the pair of fake-fur-padded handcuffs dangling from her finger. Daryl roared with surprised laughter. "Jesus fuck, I don't even wanna know." Carol and Glenn both turned pink, and they all headed home in high spirits.