Written for Hanna (Carol'sDixon?)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I especially don't own these incredible characters that Kirkman created and the ones AMC did.

AN: I have to apologise for not hardly being around. I am trying but the muse is almost non-existent.

Daryl's Cookies

There were crumbs on the counter. Carol frowned as she zeroed in on them, then looked suspiciously around her kitchen, eyes narrowed.

"Sam?"

Her voice was sharp, impatient and for the longest time she thought maybe she'd imagined things, projected her fears into dark corners, but then, like the headache you just couldn't get rid of, there he was. His floppy hair and sharp eyes popped up from the other side of her kitchen counter and she could already see the fear in them that he was unable to hide, even though she couldn't see all of his face. She wanted to build on that fear, wanted to have him so terrified of being around her that he ran out of her space screaming, but as he stood a little higher with remnants of her cooling cookies stuck to his lips, Carol found herself smirking instead.

"Yes, ma'am?" The contrived innocence melted Carol's heart little by little until she was actually biting the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing.

"Have you seen my cookies? I was…leaving some for Daryl."

The boy's face drained completely of colour and he awkwardly swiped his fist across his lips, leaving the crumbs to tumble onto her freshly mopped floor.

"I'm sorry. I thought…I thought you made them for me." The boy was shaking, standing otherwise so still Carol thought he'd fall apart right in front of her eyes. Her brow crinkled in confusion, even though a stirring guilt and concern was threatening to push her into asking questions she wasn't sure she really wanted answers to.

"That's okay—"

The swing of the front door and the clatter of Daryl's crossbow as he propped it where you'd normally leave your boots seemed to galvanise Sam into action and the child dived back behind the kitchen counter, for all effects hiding and Carol's heart squeezed in growing concern.

"Hey." Daryl sidled into the room, darting edgy looks into every corner before finally clashing a surprisingly wary gaze into her amused one. He snorted at his own anxiety, chuckled at being caught out acting all nervous and somehow that self-mock released him a little from its grip. His cheeks turned a becoming dusky shade and he ducked his head forward, trying to hide from her and Carol clucked her tongue with disappointment. He wasn't done, though, and the second he raised his head up and sought her out, she felt electricity crackle in the air and her whole being froze, waiting for something, expecting something to explode but having no idea what. "All the others out?"

She nodded slowly, knowing she was the only one left in the house, about to start casserole duty once again as soon as she'd cleared things up with Sam and directed him back home. There was an energy about Daryl that made her nervous, but it excited her, too.

"Thought you were gonna bake me some cookies to take with Aaron in the morning?"

The way he moved closer, the burn in his expressive eyes as he latched hold of hers, unwavering and filled with heat, shifted her focus for a minute. When his lips seemed to fill her vision as he descended and found hers, she forgot everything to do with cookies. The unexpected move made her gasp against his mouth, and hesitantly, Daryl's tongue darted out to slip briefly between her lips. The whimper that surged out of her felt like years of repressed emotion. Her fingers found the fine stitching along the edge of his vest as she moved closer, the leather bunching up in her fists as she subconsciously hauled him in. The taste of his lips, the bitter mix of cigarettes and an unexpected tang of beer were surprisingly welcome and she clung to him in desperation to keep him close. His technique wasn't sloppy, nor was it masterful but to Carol it didn't matter because whatever skill Daryl chose to share with her was precious.

When the kiss ended, she felt like she was adrift in fog. His eyes were as glazed as she suspected hers were and a euphoric, surprised giggle burst from deep within her. His chest was heaving and her blood felt like it screamed through her veins as it raced to slow down to catch up his rhythm. Her hands still clenched hold of his vest and he stood so close to her that every cell in her body was teased to attention, craving more.

Daryl was obviously struck for words, his expression clearing from dopey satisfaction to one of guarded hope. Carol drew in a deep, calming breath and met his eyes, soaking in the love that almost bled from him and which he had at last found a way to release.

"Wanna tell me what that was for? After all, I didn't bake you any cookies." Momentarily she recalled Sam and suspected if she looked over Daryl's broad shoulders she'd see the little sneak peering at them in surprise.

"Just…" He was struggling, the words and feelings all a mess in his heart and head but his plump lips reassured her it was okay, that eventually he'd work out what he wanted to say and he'd say it with words instead of just relying on what his actions convinced her so thoroughly of. "Didn't want you to think I was runnin' out on you. I'm still tryin'." His hands fumbled lightly along her hips until he found purchase, applying enough pressure that her heart skipped a beat as he tugged her a little closer. He kissed her again, his lips barely moving until it ended with him panting against her and her blood roared through her body at the promise. "When I get back, maybe we could try some more."

Carol's eyes stung and she nodded, words caught in her throat. On anyone else it would have been a shameless flirt, but the uncertainty in his voice brought tears to her eyes and instead of forcing words past a tight throat, she launched herself at him, her arms winding around his neck and she pressed her body as tight against his as she could get. He pulled her in even tighter.

"I'll bake another batch," she whispered into his ear past her sniffles, then buried her rapidly moist face against his neck. Carol couldn't even remember when she felt this kind of relief, this level of acceptance and Daryl's showing her, not just paying lip service to the cliché words, proved to her that he'd thought about them and wanted them to be a them, probably even longer than she could guess. She didn't think she could put words to how he made her feel, but she could pour all her love for him into her cookies.

"He doesn't hurt you?"

The calm, yet inquisitive voice hit them like a bucket of ice, Daryl's arms tightening as his whole body went rigid. The wings on his vest soothed Carol's palms and while her heart started thudding violently for altogether another reason, she knew it was essential for the boy to learn that not all men were the same—that not all men hurt the women they loved. That he had a chance to grow up different.

"Daryl would never hurt me, Sam." Her voice was loaded with so much conviction that even Daryl sagged a little in her arms, turning slowly to see the intruder in the kitchen, the little spy that had witnessed his first kiss with Carol. He seemed stunned to see a child that wasn't part of their group in the house but then comprehension blossomed and Daryl ignored what Sam said and diverted the topic somewhere much safer for all of them.

"You come to get some of Carol's cookies? 'Cause, she ain't made them yet." The information was received with a guilty, wide-eyed stare and Carol laughed, partially letting go of Daryl and missing the warmth and pressure his body gave to her. Ghosting her fingers down his back, the rough surface of the leather tickling the pads of her fingers, she narrowed her eyes as he contemplated their little interloper.

"Sam was going to help me bake." She'd be late for casserole duty but it didn't even seem important anymore.

"Right," Daryl nodded, like he'd been expecting that explanation all along. "Better make a double batch, then. If he's helpin' he should take some home as well."

Past all his previous apprehension and anxiety about Daryl's appearance, the promise of more cookies seemed to perk Sam right up.

"Thank you, Daryl." The boy was so completely awed that Daryl shifted uneasily and gradually shuffled backwards toward the door.

"It's nothin'," he said, the tips of his ears stained pink. "It's Carol you're helpin'." He flicked his eyes up to her and stilled, a teeny grin fluttering at the corners of his mouth as Carol aimed a full blown smile at him.

"Be back tonight? I'll make you dinner," she promised, her lips already tingling with the thought of more kisses, firmly gripped with the belief that practise made perfect.

Daryl snorted. "Casserole?"

She was giddy and smiling too loud. "You know it."

He reached out and caught her fingers, rubbing them roughly with his thumb. "I'll come back after I'm done going through what all Aaron thinks I need to know." He rolled his eyes at her and she thought it was the most adorable thing she'd ever seen him do. She fought it, falling into this silly school girl crush that would make her giggle over every little thing that showed her the boy she liked was just as much in like with her, but she wasn't going to win and Carol knew it. Her thumb brushed against his and a rush of heat made her knees weak.

"You'll be a good team," she admitted, but envious tears stung at her eyes.

"We're better." The admission seemed to suck all his bravado right out of him. He stepped back, a little shocked that he'd been so forward. Sam inched closer and Daryl ruffled his hair before diving through the door, grasping his crossbow as he swung the front door open. He stopped, hesitated, then quiet as a mouse he ducked his head back around the doorframe. He sought her out, steadied her as her heart beat a crazy rhythm no human could sustain without collapsing. His shy act evaporated at the sight of her watery eyes and sappy smile. "I'll see you tonight." And then he was gone, leaving a beaming, sniffling Carol with a curious Sam, eager to know all about her and Daryl, and a double batch of cookies to bake.