What You Want

AUTHOR'S NOTE: There is no reason for this, really.

I just wanted an excuse to brush up on writing a sex scene. Sometimes ya just have to, amirite?

Consider yourself warned. ;)

The afternoon sun was harsh on her face as Julia Greene emerged from the farmhouse. She immediately looked to her right toward the camp that had been parked in her uncle's front yard for the past month or so. Truth be told, it coulda just been two weeks. Time was sorta relative these days and she never really bothered keeping track now that she didn't have work. All she knew for sure was that she'd had time to think since the survivors had arrived, and now it was time to make her case to one of them. She looked for Daryl, hoping he was still around. She figured he'd be the least likely to shoot her down without hearing her out, if for no other reason than because he wasn't particularly chatty. She'd been around him a lot, attaching herself to his heel and trying to get him to talk. Aside from asking her what the hell she wanted every time she showed up outside his tent, he had kept quiet and let her decide whether she wanted to talk or not.

They'd fooled around once down at the creek—she still wasn't exactly sure how that'd happened. One minute she'd been talking to him out on the dock and the next she'd planted him with a kiss that shoulda curled his toes. He'd kissed her back, one thing had led to another, and the next thing she'd known, she was wrapped around him and they were pumping together in a frantic, fast share of bodies. The man had literally ripped her panties off, for cryin' out loud, and it had all gone downhill from there. Her face heated as she remembered the force of her orgasm. It had been an awful long time since she'd been with a man and her body was…responsive. After he'd grunted his own release, he'd hissed a curse and righted his clothes before he scurried back into the woods without so much as a word.

She wondered as she crossed the yard and went up the small hill if he thought she was trashy, and maybe that was why he didn't talk to her much. Of course, he never told her to go away, so…who the hell knew? She shook her head as she caught sight of him just leaving his campsite. He had gone out earlier to look for the little girl, Sophia, and had come back empty handed yet again. She called out to him, surprised that he stopped. She could see his chest heave in a sigh and heard the unmistakable annoyance when he kept the traditional greeting alive.

"What the hell you want?"

"You huntin'? Mind if I join you?"

He raked his eyes over her, from the bright pink t-shirt to the tips of her beat up Converse. "Ain't exactly dressed for it, kid. Besides, you couldn't sneak up on a corpse, much less a rabbit."

She didn't bother reminding him—again—that she was nearly twenty-seven years old. "Fact is, I wanna talk to you. It's important."

"I ain't going huntin'. I'm goin' to get a bath." His eyes skimmed over her again, slower this time, and he adopted a lecherous smirk that he'd learned from his brother. "And you ain't exactly dressed to join me for that neither." He turned and picked up his bow, slinging it across his back as he headed for the woods. "Get on back up to the house, girl. Ain't got no business bein' this far out by yourself."

Daryl didn't turn around to see the girl narrow her black eyes at him, but he imagined that she did it anyway. He'd picked up on that habit about the second time she'd dogged his steps around the farm. Any time anybody said something she didn't like, those eyes would squint up as if she was trying to figure something out. He doubted she even realized she did it.

And just what the hell did she think she was doing following him around all the time anyway? It wasn't like he went outta his way to make himself approachable. He ignored her half the time when she chattered away like some squirrel hopped up on meth. Still, he couldn't help but admit that she was funny. And cute. Not a raving beauty or anything, but she was pretty in her own way, with her freckles 'cross her nose and a set of dimples in her cheeks. And that mouth…

Daryl had a feeling she'd be a firecracker if given half a chance. She'd tied into it with Lori a few days ago and he'd actually thought he and Dale were gonna have to separate them. He didn't know what had gotten the girl so riled, but she'd lit into Her Majesty and nearly ripped her a new one. He shook his head at the memory. Women were just too much trouble. Lord knows she'd caught him off guard when she'd kissed him, and that wasn't an easy thing to do. That quickie on the dock had knocked him for a loop, but it had tempered his edginess. Since they were near always running for their lives, sex hadn't really been in the forefront of his mind. That girl had gone and changed that, the little shit.

He trudged through the tall grass along the slightly worn path and into the cover of the live oak trees. After a while he came to a clearing. On the far edge was a rock face and at the end was a high, narrow waterfall spilling into a lagoon. The cool, clear pool fed into the creek that ran along the back edge of the property. Daryl sat his pack on the ground stripped his dirty shirt over his head. He took out a less-dirty one to change into when he'd finished scrubbing off the sweat and grime he'd collected over the past couple of days. His pants would last another few days before he'd change 'em since he only had one other pair. As for boxers…well, he'd long since given up on trying to keep them. Shirt in hand, he approached the edge of the pool.

He unfastened his belt just as he heard a twig snap behind him. He whirled, drawing the large bowie knife from the sheath on his belt. Tossing his shirt onto a large rock, he crept around the side of the pool and disappeared into the trees.


Jules sighed. So much for being stealthy.

She went ahead and strolled up the path and approached the pool, frowning when she saw a wadded shirt but no sign of Daryl. "Hello?"

An arm snaked around her waist and a hand covered her mouth before she had time to shriek. She raised the long crowbar she carried but it was wrested from her grasp and thrown aside. She brought her elbow back sharply, making contact with a body. She was propelled forward and would have gone sprawling on the ground if not for a small pine on which she caught herself. She regained her footing and braced for a fight, exclaiming when she got a look at her attacker.

"What the hell, Daryl?"

"Just makin' a point," Daryl said. He was mad that she'd done such a fool thing as following him. Probably didn't tell nobody where she was going, either. "What're you doing out here alone? D'you ever think that there mighta been a walker around here somewhere?"

"That's what I had the crowbar for, asshole. Walkers aren't exactly known for their hand-to-hand combat."

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "Since when do you folks call 'em walkers? Thought y'all thought they was just sick?"

Jules lifted her chin. "My uncle thinks they're sick. This is his place, so I don't buck. He thinks the CDC is gonna sweep in with a cure sometime and everybody's gonna be fine. So long as there ain't no zombies running around the property—" She saw him roll his eyes at her use of the 'z' word—"Patty and Maggie go along with whatever he thinks."

"Oh, and you don't, rebel soul?"

"When you see your mama bite your daddy's neck nearly in two, you kinda start to think maybe it's more than just a virus that somebody's gonna get over."

Daryl's expression softened ever so slightly. "That what happened to you?"

She nodded. "Look, I didn't come out here to fight with you. Like I said earlier, I need to talk to you about something."

"'bout what?"

"I want you to take me with you when you leave."

He blinked at her. "'scuze me?"

"You heard me. When you and your friends leave here, I want to go with you."

"Lady, are you nuts or something? Do you have any idea what's out there? And you wanna go out into it? You got a safe place here. You'd be a damn fool to leave."

"I can't stay here. I can't just hide away while the rest of the world falls down."

"Then you're a fuckin' dumbass. Ain't nothing out there but death and walkers. 'sides, who says we're going anywhere?"

Jules crossed her arms. "You're telling me you plan on buckling in here, riding this thing out with Hershel and the others?"

"I ain't sayin' that," Daryl said, shaking his head. He mirrored her pose, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Why you comin' out here all by yourself tellin' me that you want to go? What, you pucker up once and you think I'ma sweep you up and carry you off into the sunset? This ain't no fuckin' romance novel, girl. I don't need somebody else to babysit—I do enough of that with the rest of them," he said, jerking his chin in the direction of the house.

"I can…I dunno. Help out or…" She looked at him intently. "Or whatever."

He squinted his eyes and his lips curved mockingly. "What, you gonna be my bitch, be at my beck and call?" He nibbled the inside of his bottom lip and scoffed. "You wanna be my personal whore?" Her chin came up ever-so-slightly at that and he almost smiled. "Well, I'm fuckin' honored, lady, but the answer's still no."

This wasn't going at all like she had planned. Well what do you expect, she thought. It's not like the man is exactly predictable. "I don't wanna be your whore. I want to…shit, I don't know! I want to go with you! I want to be with you!" Her eyes popped wide as the admission tumbled out. Jesus, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. "I…"

Her words sent a thrill through him, and that just made him confused and angry. What'd he care what she said? It wasn't like he'd be able to do what she wanted, even if he and the others did pull up stakes. "Whatchoo playing at, girl? Huh? You think you're gonna just swoop in here and make me into some lap dog?" He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "You're playing a dangerous game, Julia," Daryl said darkly.

She couldn't remember him ever using her name before, even when she'd been in earshot and he'd been talking about her to one of the others. "I ain't playing any game, here, Daryl. I just…I just want you to…" She sighed. "That day by the creek, I haven't ever felt that before. You know what I mean," she added when his mouth quirked. "I want to feel it again. Here. Now. Being with you made me forget. Forget the walkers, my folks, Hershel, everything."

"Shit, girl, you make it sound like you got high offa fuckin'."

She shrugged. Her words came out in a rush, tripping over one another and probably not making any sense, but she couldn't seem to stop talking. "Maybe it did. I don't have any idea. Maybe it was an adrenal overload or something. Who the fuck knows? All I know is I want it. I want you. Again, and…and…"

He reached out lightning fast, tightly taking her arms in his hands and pulling her against him, crushing his mouth to hers. Jules struggled against his hold, finally breaking it and wrapping her arms around his neck. He scrubbed his hands down her sides and gripped her hips, drawing her against him. She gave a quiet groan as she felt the hardness of his body against her stomach.

Daryl pulled back and yanked her t-shirt over her head before walking her over to one of the boulders that sat by the lagoon and dumping her onto it. She stared at him, her eyes passion-glazed, her lips red and swollen from his kiss. He was shaking, barely controlling himself. Jules propped up on her. He cupped her breasts, squeezing until she arched against him with a small gasp of pleasure. His fingers slipped into her bra and he roughly pulled the satin apart, popping the seams with little effort.

Jules gave him a husky chuckle and shook her head. "You gotta stop tearing all my shit up."

He kissed her again before he gripped her thighs and pulled them apart, dragging her forward on the boulder. He pressed his hips against the center of her body and tucked his tongue between his teeth as her eyes widened. She sat up and nipped at his lips. Daryl made quick work of her shorts and hooked his fingers in the band of her panties, swiftly tugging them over her hips. He stepped away so that he could drag the scrap of lace down her legs before closing the distance between them again. He leaned over her and she drew him down for a deep, hot kiss.

Jules ran her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, which were sculpted from fiddling with his bow and the rest of his active outdoor lifestyle. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and pressed her chest to his. Daryl hissed out a breath as their bodies collided and her taut nipples abraded his torso. She untangled one hand from his hair and trailed it down—down his cheek, along his stubbled jaw, down his neck—lower, until she lightly scraped her fingernails across his hip. She dipped her fingers beneath the band of his low-slung cargo pants and tugged him forward, unfastening the button with an expert twist of her fingers. She worked at his zipper and grinned into their kiss. She sucked on his tongue as her fingers wrapped around him, and Daryl growled into her mouth. She released him and pulled back, laying a hand on his chest to guide him back a step so that she could slide from the rock. She circled him wearing nothing but a sultry smile, trailing her hand across his chest, turning him so that it was his back against the rock. She knelt in front of him, bending to untie his bootlaces. Daryl stepped out of his boots and Jules rolled down his socks. She glanced up at him, noting with satisfaction that he was so tense he looked like he would shatter if she touched him. She tossed his socks away and went up on her knees, placing her hands on his hips and hooking her thumbs in his waistband. She drew the cotton down his legs and tossed the garments aside.

Daryl looked down at her and scooped a hand through his hair, poised on pins as needles, unsure as to what Jules's next move would be. If she touched—

His breath left his lungs in a rush and his head fell back as Jules took him between her lips. His hips rocked forward of their own accord. Daryl breathed her name as half-prayer, half-curse. That wicked mouth worked wonders on his flesh and he tangled his hands in her hair, giving a tug to get her attention before he lost himself completely.

She pulled back, smiling up at him with a Cheshire cat grin, and Daryl pulled her to her feet. He turned her and pinned her to the boulder with his body, bending her over the rock. The cool stone bit into Jules's stomach, but she paid it no mind. All she felt was Daryl—the heat of his body at her back, the strength of his arm around her waist, the gentleness in his touch as he ran a hand over her hair and trailed his fingertips down her spine. She arched back into him as he positioned himself between her hips. He cupped her face and turned her head toward him, leaning over her and kissing her from behind. His free hand trailed from her waist to her breasts, kneading the flesh in time to the thrusting of his tongue. He pinched her nipple and she shuddered against him. He released her and took her hands in his, placing them in front of her on the rock. He nipped at her neck, soothing the sting with the slick rasp of his tongue. Jules whimpered and writhed.

"Fuck, girl," he growled against her ear. His tongue darted out, skimming over the sensitive skin beneath her ear just before he caught her lobe lightly between his teeth. She moaned, wantonly rubbing herself against him. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice deep and gravelly. "Tell me," he said, teasing her with a subtle arch of his hips.

"You," she moaned, throwing him a resentful look over her shoulder. "I want you. Asshole," she added in a whisper, with a saucy smile.

Daryl released her hands and gripped her hips, placing a kiss on the back of her neck. He entered her swiftly, her body wet and ready to accept his. Jules cried out in bliss as he filled her. God, he was perfect. As he rocked against her she arched back to meet him thrust for thrust, there in the wilds of the Georgia woods.

Daryl buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent as her desperation grew. He knew she was nearing her peak—he'd brought her there not too long ago. He allowed himself that dab of smugness. He turned his face into her shoulder, opened his mouth, and pinched her tender flesh between his teeth. She gasped and threw back her head, looking at him with wild, burning eyes. He brought his hands up to cup her breasts, drawing himself closer in the process. He leaned forward, pressing her down, pressing himself deeper, and she welcomed him.

He felt her body tensing. She bowed back against him, curving one hand around his neck while her other hand buried itself in his hair. He rolled her nipples even as he continued to plunge into her, dipping his head and catching the side of her neck between his teeth. Jules threw her head back and shouted—loudly—as she came in a wave of pleasure so intense it left her light headed. She leaned against the boulder and Daryl thrust twice more before joining her with a shout of his own. He gathered her against him, his heart pounding, and gently kissed her neck and shoulders as he cradled her to his chest. He kicked out his pants and her t-shirt, giving them something to lie on before he stretched out on the ground so they could catch their breath.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked as he lazily traced a bite mark on her shoulder.

Jules chuckled. "Absolutely not."

"Sorry I was so rough," he said, feeling uncomfortable at how he'd treated her. Spontaneous sexing or not, he shouldn't have acted like some horny teenager with a penchant for biting.

"Honey, if gettin' a little rough in the sack is the only side-effect of this life, then I consider it a big win."

Daryl scoffed a laugh. "You make it sound like we should be really screwed up or something."

She teasingly nipped his nipple and propped her hands on his chest, resting her chin on them. "Um, let's see...I watched my mama kill my daddy, my uncle is in denial, your friend Shane clearly has a coup in mind, Otis died saving Carl, whom he shot, that blonde girl is one step away from bra-burning, Skinny Minnie is a bitch and quite possibly the worst mother in the world, Maggie is crazy for Glenn and vice versa but too damn stubborn to do anything about it, and you…well, you're just a complex enigma, aren't you?" She smiled at him a little sadly. "Besides-"

Whatever she had been about to say was interrupted by Maggie and Glenn bursting through the trees on the other side of the clearing and Daryl making a grab for his crossbow. Maggie took one look at her cousin, naked and straddling an equally naked Daryl, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Good God, Maggie!" Jules shrieked, scrambling up and covering with her t-shirt. She tossed a random article of clothing across his hips while she was at it. "What are you doing?"

"We-I—Glenn heard a shout and I saw you had come out after Daryl, so I was worried you were being attacked."

Jules pinned Glenn with an accusatory gaze. The younger man was trying hard not to look at her. He cleared his throat and waved a hand toward her. "How were we supposed to know that you were…ya know?"

"Yeah," Maggie chimed in. "Up at the house we got these newfangled things called beds, Jules. Ever thought of using one?"

"Don't force your boring habits on me, Mags," Jules said, trying to cover her discomfort with humor. She glanced down at Daryl, who was sitting up and chewing on his thumbnail, not paying any attention to the women, but scanning the tree line instead. "You okay?"

He squinted up at her and nodded before looking at Maggie. "You gonna stand there yappin' all day and night or you gonna beat it so I can get dressed?"

"I didn't peg you as shy," Maggie said, smiling coolly.

"It ain't me I'm worried about," Daryl said, dusting off his hands. "I just don't want to ruin you for Mr. Miyagi over there."

Dale rolled his eyes and nodded. "Funny, man," he said, but he took Maggie by the arm and led her away from the clearing.

"Y'all be careful going back to the house," Jules called after them. She looked down and laid a hand on top of Daryl's head, lightly ruffling his hair. She smiled as he leaned his head back and playfully bit at her fingertips. "You never did get that bath."

"Not yet."

"Gonna be dark soon. Guess I best let you get to it."

"Guess so."

Jules nodded, quashing the streak of disappointment she felt. "I'll see you back at the house?"

"I 'spect you will."

Self-conscious now that all that covered her was her t-shirt, she began looking around for the rest of her clothes. "Okay. Um…I guess…" She bent and picked up her underwear, fumbling to put them on without dropping her shirt. When she managed to get them back up, she quickly tugged her shirt back over her head. "I guess I'll see you back home then. Um…have you seen my shorts?" she asked, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Daryl stood and walked toward her, unashamed in his nakedness. He scooped her shorts up and held them out to her, tilting his head to the side. "You alright?"

"Yeah! Yeah, no, I'm fine. It was…" She waved a hand toward the rock. "Wow, ya know? So, we did that and it was fun and now I'm gonna let you get your bath." She tugged her shorts up and forced a smile.

He caught her arm as she started past him. "Hold up, woman. Where's the fire?"

Jules looked at him, confused. "Uh, well, we…you know…and I figured…"

"You figured since we'd fucked I'd be ready for you to piss off," Daryl guessed. He didn't know why it made him mad for her to think that, but it did. "You thought that why? Because I said I didn't want to take you if we leave the farm? One thing ain't got nothing to do with the other. I ain't some ditchable prom date you can fuck and cast off like yesterday's garbage, so tough shit on that front. You're stuck with me now, lady."

"Wait, you're mad at me?" Jules asked. Her brows furrowed. "For what exactly? You lost me, sweetheart."

"I didn't lose nothin'," Daryl said, misunderstanding her. He frowned. "I said you're stuck with me, and I meant it. You want to do this thing, fine, but just remember that you sought me out. So don't go skulking off because you think you know what I want you to do."

"So…what do you want me to do?" she asked. "I gotta be honest, Daryl, I'm so freakin' confused right now I don't know which way is up."

"I want you to stay with me, alright?" he said angrily, throwing his hands up. "Jesus Christ."

She smiled. "You do? Like, just for now, or…?"

"No, not just for now. Whatever. What? What's the smile for?"

She shook her head. "Nothin'. Why the change of heart?"

"Ain't no change of heart," he said, crossing his arms. She stifled another smile. It was hard to look intimidating when you were buck-ass naked. "Never said I didn't want—"

"Uh, I believe the phrase you used not an hour ago was 'I'm fuckin' flattered, but no thanks.'"

"That ain't what I said."

"Oh my God, you are hardheaded!"

"It ain't!" Daryl insisted. "I said, 'I'm fuckin' honored, but the answer's still no'. If you're gonna be a badass and stick it to somebody with a quote, make sure you quote 'em right."

She walked to him with a flirty smile and lightly poked his chest. "Why'd I want to stay with you, again?" she teased. Her fingertip brushed a heavy scar as it trailed down his torso until she rubbed her palm over the fresh pink scars from where he'd stabbed himself with an arrow a couple of weeks ago.

"Because I'm the best lay you've ever had."

She rolled her eyes. "Says you."

"I make you scream."

"So do spiders."

"I make you hot."

"It's Georgia."

He stepped close to her, cupping he back of her neck and bringing her face so near his own that she could feel his breath tickling her lips. "You wanna stay with me because it's what you wanna do, and that opportunity don't come along often. Not anymore."

Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and she sighed softly. "Daryl…"

He cocked an eyebrow and grunted, "Hm?"

"Let's get you a bath."