"Carol? 'The hell are my pants?"
The panicked look the he received in response should have been answer enough. It really, really should. But it was too early in the morning (or was it afternoon?) and a very distinct pulsing in the back of his head was making brain usage a rather difficult process.
Besides, given the circumstances, it was a perfectly logical question. Of course, if he had taken a moment to really process the situation, he might've been able to work out why exactly it was that he was pantsless, in a bed, with a mortified looking female clutching at the sheets as if they were a lifeline.
But the head pulsepoundtwinge was still there, so any sort of processing would just have to wait.
Carol gave a small whimper.
He lifted his eyes to catch her gaze, brow furrowing a bit in confusion.
What the hell was her problem? He was the one missing his pants! And if she didn't stop twisting the damned sheet between her hands like that, he was fairly certain she was going to get a better gander at little Daryl than she was aiming for.
So naturally, being the stand up guy that he was, he did the only thing one could possibly do in such a situation.
With one quick jerk he pulled the sheet away.
Carol made a sound that he was fairly certain women only made in horror movies right before they were murdered by the crazy guy with the axe or chainsaw or some other implement of death. In all fairness he didn't even have any of those things on him at the moment. They were probably off somewhere with his damned pants.
And then his brain caught up to his action. His mouth dropped open a full six inches and judging from the burning that he could feel fucking everywhere, he had little doubt that there was any part of him that wasn't blushing.
The sheet was hastily dropped back into it's former position. "Well shit."
Carol opened and closed her mouth a few times in a vain attempt to form words. Though despite her efforts, she still said nothing. Not that he had actually expected her to.
The fuzz in his brain still wasn't helping with the processing either. Though to be fair, even if it had been, it probably wouldn't have changed the next words out of his mouth. "Carol? 'The hell are your pants?"
I honestly have no idea where this came from, other than there was a conversation with my husband about missing pants that mutated and grew legs. I don't know when this takes place (I'm think between seasons 2 and 3 though, perhaps?) There could be more. There could not be more. I kind of like the way it sits, just as it is. Who knows.
Either way, if you take the time to read it, thank you and I hope you found at least a bit of enjoyment! :)