Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of pure fiction. All characters and events depicted in this story are entirely fictitious. Any similarity to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Rating: Mature (ffnet)/Explicit

Tags: *Carol Peletier, *Daryl Dixon, *Carol/Daryl, *Nine Lives Challenge, *Caryl Bingo, *Angst, *Fluff, *Smut, *Plot, *AU, *UST

Summary: A weekend retreat with all their friends … no. A new man already stalking Carol … oh, hell no! Daryl has been pining for her for years. He's not about to let someone else horn in on his best friend, the only woman he's ever loved. But will a weekend away, unresolved feelings and this new threat be enough to get him to confess all to her?

A/n: (This fic has been re-edited and now re-posted with a new title :D) Ok … challenge fic #2. I can't even begin to tell you how much inspiration this whole bingo card has given me. So, in this one, I'm going to be adventurous and see if I can't combine two lines into one fic. The first line is … bed sharing, fake dating/marriage, virgin Daryl, 17 seconds and first times (doesn't have to be sex). The second line is … fake dating/marriage, a shower, pining, in vino veritas (drunk confessions), and flowers. Hope I don't disappoint.

The Retreat

By:

CharlotteAshmore

Chapter One: Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

Carol closed her textbook, glancing up at Michonne where she stood leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom they shared. Her dorm roommate studied her with dark eyes, and Carol knew that was never a good sign. "Oh, god … what've you done now?" she asked, tidying her desk before chancing a peek at her again.

Michonne clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and arched a brow. "What makes you think I've done something?"

Carol crossed her arms over her chest, her lips forming a thin line of disdain. "Because the last time you looked at me like that, you were trying to convince me to go on a blind date. One, I might add, which was an epic fail." She shivered, remembering the ill-fated night she'd met Ed Peletier.

She'd reluctantly agreed to go out with him – for coffee – something socially acceptable, a chance to see if she wouldn't mind getting to know him better. Ugh! For all outward appearances, he was nice enough, charming – if a little rough around the edges – but there had just been something about him which had turned her off. And not in a you're-nice-can-we-be-friends sort of way. No, something lurked in his eyes, something dangerous which warned her to run the other way as fast as humanly possible.

Carol groaned inwardly. He'd been stalking her ever since. Even after she'd told him she wasn't interested, he'd been persistent. He'd begun frequenting the coffee shop on campus where she worked in the afternoons, shown up at her dorm several times, and had even changed his course schedule so he could share some of her classes. He was a creeper, and it was getting out of hand. She'd invested in a can of pepper spray, and made it a habit not to go anywhere alone. She was nearly to the point of telling Daryl and Merle. Daryl would be livid, Merle murderous.

She'd met them three years ago when she'd moved to the small Georgia town to attend college. Carol had a full scholarship, and could have chosen any university in the country, but she'd had her heart set on the small college which sat on the outskirts of Peachtree City, Georgia. Her parents hadn't been at all happy, wanting her to remain closer to home. - another opportunity for them to control every aspect of her life – but she'd been adamant. The farther away from them, the better. She wanted to be on her own, independent, and free of restrictions.

Carol hadn't expected her little Honda to crap out on her the moment she'd reached the city limits. She had chosen the first garage listed in the yellow pages on her phone's browser, and Merle had sent his brother out with the tow truck to bring it into the garage. Her heart rate picked up at the thought of Daryl Dixon. He was her age, his smoky blue eyes fathomless, his hair the color of roasted chestnuts, but shy and reserved. Merle – on the other hand – was loud and boisterous, quick-witted and easy to laugh. The brothers were polar opposites, but they amused her. They could be a comedy act one day, a wrestling match the next, and she cherished their friendship. She hadn't known anyone in town, and hadn't had a chance to make friends at uni yet, and as she'd settled in, she'd found herself spending more and more time with them outside of school and work.

It had taken Daryl a good six months before he'd relaxed enough to speak to her without stumbling over his words. As a psych major, she recognized the signs, wondering what horrors lurked in his past, but she never gave up trying to get him to open up to her, to talk to her as friends do. She couldn't count the times she'd spent having a one-sided conversation while watching him work on whatever car, truck or motorcycle on the docket. It had taken no time at all to fall in love with him. She knew it would remain unrequited. He'd shown no interest in her other than friendship, and it broke her heart. Carol had nearly given up on him – one of the reasons she'd reluctantly agreed to the coffee date with Ed – but she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Carol!"

"What?" she startled, Michonne's voice intruding on her reverie.

"You just zoned out. What's wrong?" her friend asked, concern etching her brow. "Is Ed still harassing you? I swear if I had known, I never would have encouraged you to go out with him. This is all my fault!"

"'Chonne, c'mon. You've got to stop blaming yourself. You didn't know he was going to be a stalker," Carol sighed. "Can we just not talk about him today? I'm done with classes and I don't have to work. I want to focus on having lunch with Daryl and not have to think about Ed."

Michonne winced. "You still trying to get that man to notice you?"

Carol shot her a sad smile. "He's noticed me … just not in the way I'd like. I'm still firmly in the friend zone, I'm afraid." She watched her friend's face morph into a guilty expression, causing her to go back to the subject at hand. "Alright, out with it. What kind of tragedy has or is about to befall us?"

"I swear you've got a sixth sense for trouble, Carol."

"No, I just know you. C'mon, spill," Carol insisted. "Please, tell me it has nothing to do with Ed."

Michonne pursed her lips, averting her eyes. "Well, do you remember that project I was assigned to help bring up my grade? The one where I had to organize that weekend retreat and study human behavior of the participants?"

Carol snorted. "The one you roped me into. How could I forget? What's wrong, can't get any volunteers for a free weekend getaway at that little bed and breakfast on Lanier Island?"

"It's not that. The signup sheet is nearly full."

"Then what's the problem?"

Michonne moved further into the room and dropped heavily onto Carol's bed, pulling a pillow over her head. "The retreat is open to all students in the class, and …" Her muffled voice trailed away, unsure if she actually had the courage to break the news to her best friend.

Carol blanched as the implications slammed into her. Ed had just transferred to that class a month ago. Open to all students? Oh, hell no! "Oh, my god! Please, don't tell me he put his name on the list," she shrieked, pulling the pillow away from Michonne's head to reveal her pained expression.

"Fine, I won't tell you," she mumbled, though her twisted features said it all.

"What the hell am I going to do? I won't be able to relax at all, just waiting for him to corner me! And I can't back out. I already made sure I'd be off that weekend – which you know wasn't easy – and my spa package has already been debited from my account!"

"I'm sorry, Carol," Michonne grimaced, once again hating herself for ever introducing her to Ed Peletier.

*.*.*

Daryl slid out from beneath the car, his hand blindly reaching for the tools he'd left out near to hand as his eyes darted towards the clock on the wall. If he couldn't see the second hand ticking, he'd think the damn thing was broken. Only five minutes had passed since the last time he'd looked. He cursed under his breath as he scooted the creeper back under the car, not wanting his brother to latch onto his bad mood. Merle had the uncanny ability to search out any excuse to take the piss out of him, and he wasn't in the mood. He already withstood the constant ribbing over his feelings for Carol Mason.

He applied the wrench to the bolt which was giving him such pains and sighed, his mind never far from the girl who'd swept into his life three years ago and laid waste to his heart. He felt like such a clod, tongue-twisted and awkward, unable to share what he felt for her. An abusive father, a harsh upbringing and an uncertain future hadn't instilled a high level of self-esteem within him, and his fear of rejection could send him into a panic attack quicker than Merle could snatch up a new girl at the bar. So, instead, he relished the friendship she so kindly offered, pining for her, too afraid to ask her out.

Merle thought it was the biggest joke, that his baby brother was such an awkward little fuck. There was no end to the times he'd cornered Daryl and tried to cajole him into taking a chance, convinced Carol shared his feelings. And until Daryl accepted it and made a move, he would continue to harass him, not wanting his brother to miss his chance at happiness.

Daryl slid the creeper out and sat up, glaring at the clock. Carol had promised to stop by for lunch – as she usually did on Wednesdays when her schedule only consisted of one class and it was her day off from work – and she wasn't that late. Yet, he felt antsy and uncoordinated, wondering what could be keeping her.

"I swear, I'ma yank that clock off th' fuckin' wall if y' keep starin' at it like that, lil' brother," Merle said, leaning a hip against the tool cabinet next to Daryl's workspace. He knew Daryl's distraction all too well, had seen it for himself as the boy's feelings for the Mason girl had grown. "She prob'ly got held up at th' deli or somethin'."

"Shut up, an' come give me a hand with this bolt," Daryl mumbled, sliding beneath the car to avoid having to look his brother in the eye, a deep blush burning his cheeks.

Merle's face appeared from above, visible through the gap between the engine and frame, a smarmy grin lifting the corners of his mouth. "I still don't know why y' even wanna' bother with this piece o' junk."

Daryl snorted, using a pick to work away the corrosion on the bolt before he tried again. "Y' see junk, I see a classic. It's goin' t' be a thing o' beauty when I'm done with her."

Merle narrowed his eyes, a suspicious gleam in their icy blue depths. "And whatcha gonna do with her when you're done? She might bring a good profit at one o' th' car shows or at auction"

His brother refused to meet his eyes, his hands shaking as he set the tool aside and reached for the wrench once more. "Don't know yet. Thought maybe … uh … y' think Carol might like it?" he asked, hating that his voice sounded so timid. But who could he ask other than Merle who knew about such things? His experience with women was non-existent, after all.

Merle chortled gleefully, slapping his hand on the frame, sending a spray of dirt down onto his brother. "I knew th' second y' hauled this junk heap into th' garage y' had an ulterior motive."

Daryl scowled and finally loosened the bolt, but still wouldn't meet Merle's mocking gaze. "It's not junk, Merle. It's a 1969 Camaro. Jus' needs a little work an' a sweet paint job." He slid the creeper out from beneath the car and got to his feet, wiping his hands on a shop rag. "Carol's Civic ain't gonna last her much longer, despite me keepin' it up for her."

Merle disappeared into the office, grabbing two bottles of water from the mini fridge, handing one to Daryl as he returned. "Y'know, that's a pretty big present for your little woman. A woman, I might add, who's jus' a friend." All traces of humor vanished from his countenance as he rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Y' giveher a car an' y' might as well be slippin' a ring on her finger. Don't reckon that'd be such a bad thing."

Daryl scoffed. "Ain't like that with us, Merle." His voice dropped an octave as he looked away. "She don't like me like that … never will."

"Oh, she likes y' jus' fine, I'd say. Jus' cain't imagine why y' cain't see it for yourself." He watched his brother close himself off, and knew without a doubt Daryl wouldn't say anything more on the subject. "G'on, brother … get yourself cleaned up before yer woman gets here"

*.*.*

"That'll be $27.53, Miss Carol," Dalton said, smiling sweetly at her over the register. He was a nice young man, paying his way through college by working at the Pumpernickel Deli and performing odd jobs here and there. He always had a ready smile when she happened to see him on campus.

She dug in her purse for her debit card, but before she could wrap her fingers around it, a large hand slapped a Mastercard onto the counter. She knew that hand, simply by the large onyx stone gracing the class ring on his fourth finger. Carol didn't even look up as her teeth gnashed together. "That won't be necessary, Ed. I can pay for my own lunch," she fairly snarled, handing over her own card to the cashier who looked mildly uncomfortable.

Ed grinned as she turned to glance his way. "Aw, c'mon, Carol Ann. Where's the harm in buying you lunch?"

Carol kept him in her sights as she punched in her pin number and took the receipt – along with her bag – from Dalton, thanking him for his service. She moved away so the next customer could get to the counter, her eyes flashing hotly at Ed as he gripped her arm to prevent her escape. "Because then you would assume I wanted to have lunch with you, and I don't." She shot a pointed look at his hand. "Now, let me go. I'm already late."

"Late for what? I know you ain't got classes this afternoon," he said confidently, dragging her a little closer. "How 'bout we drive over to the park and have a nice picnic."

Carol was seething mad at his mention of her schedule. "Back off, Ed. I'm not going anywhere with you!' she snarled.

His eyes glittered with malice at her rejection and his grip tightened. "You should be nice to me, Carol. I'm not such a bad guy … once you get to know me."

She jerked her arm out of his grip, wincing at the minor pain. It would be best for her to just walk away, ignore him, and carry on with her business, but she was overwrought and more than a little fearful of the man. Which is why when she opened her mouth to warn him off, she stuck her foot in it. "I'm only going to tell you this once, Ed. I don't want to be your friend or your girlfriend, not even an acquaintance! Now leave me alone and let me go meet my boyfriend for lunch … my very big boyfriend who will be livid to find out you've been stalking me!"

The man snorted as he followed her from the deli onto the sidewalk. "You ain't got a boyfriend, Carol, otherwise you never would have agreed to our date."

"It was coffee, Ed," Carol groaned inwardly, her pace quickening as she reached the crosswalk which would take her across the street and down two blocks to the garage. She should have taken her car from where she'd parked at the little eatery, but she'd been afraid to have Ed corner her in the parking lot. "Besides, that was nearly three weeks ago," she caviled. "I didn't have a boyfriend when I went out with you." She arched a scornful brow, her mouth twisting in irritation. "Did you really think I would be sitting in my dorm, pining away for you? Not. A. Chance!"

His calm demeanor faded, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he followed her. "Who the fuck is he? I ain't letting some asshole move in on my girl," he seethed.

Carol shot him an incredulous look. "I'm not yours, Ed. I never was, and I never will be!"

Her voice carried through the cavernous workshop as she stood in the doorway, trying to make the lummox understand how much she loathed him. What she saw in his eyes unsettled her to the very marrow of her bones. The hair stood up on her nape, and she took a step into the garage, praying the brothers were nearby and not busy with a customer.

When she was sure of her footing, she tightened her grip on the bag in her hand and ran, her heart thundering in her chest as she spotted Merle and headed straight for him, shoving the bag at him, frantically searching for Daryl. He was her only hope!

Carol spotted him on the stairs which led to the large studio apartment above the garage which he shared with Merle. Her mind blanked, the harsh twang of fear coating her tongue as she lunged at him, her arms wrapping tightly about his neck. She felt his body stiffen as she pressed herself against him … just before her lips crashed onto his.

A/n: I hope y'all enjoyed the first installment. When I decided to write this for last fall's wonderful challenge, I didn't realize how much I needed this AU in my life. And it never would have come about without the greatest betas in the world … BettyBubble and Geektaire. Thank you so so much ladies for all the time, talent and love you pour into each fic you edit.