Welcome to my sequel! :D I am so excited to be finally writing this and posting it. I hope you all are as excited to read it. If any of you read Haitus80's stories(if you don't, then you totally should) you may have noticed that her sequel is called Dust to Dust. We did this on purpose. Our stories are NOT related, we just thought the names were cool and since we're such good friends we decided to be weirdos and do it this way. I am not ashamed of our oddness.

I also want to warn you all, that this story will be more angst filled than Snake. It won't be happening for a couple chapters, but I just wanted to warn you all ahead of time. For now, though, our favorite couple is happy and enjoying life. :)

Like I did with Snake, I am in the process of completely rewriting this story. I recently reread it and cringed. I can do so much better and here's my chance to do so and I will let you all know before each chapter if it's been rewritten or not. Since I started school, this may be a slow process.

I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter One

Three months after Merle and Maggie's wedding, Daryl found himself sitting in his Ford pickup, outside the house he shared with Carol, clutching a small black box in his oil-stained hands. He and Carol had been together for five years, known each other for ten, and he knew that it was about time to take that next step in their relationship.

If Merle Dixon can go and get himself hitched, Daryl was sure he could, too.

The cell phone in his pocket, something that he was still adjusting to have, vibrated in his pocket. Some song from some band he didn't know, but Carol loved, blasted from it. He jumped and nearly dropped the precious box in his hands.

However, finally, he reached for the phone while still holding the box in his other hand. He didn't even bother to see who the call was from.

"Hello?" He grumbled. Talking on the phone wasn't his favorite thing to do. It reminded him of a time when the only way to hear Carol's voice was to call her on the phone. And Carol was the one who insisted they both get ones since they had jobs now and there would be times where they would be out and needed to get in touch.

"Well, hello, darlin'." Daryl knew that wonderful voice anywhere. Carol.

"Is there somethin' you want, honey," he grimaced at the pet name. Normally, he would never call her anything but sweetheart and she never called him 'darling' in his life.

"Oh, I don't want anything. I was just wondering when you would finally get out of your truck and come inside. Are you afraid of coming in? Sick of me already?"

Looking through the windshield, Daryl saw Carol standing in front of the big window of their tiny living room with the curtains pulled back and a hand on her hip. The room was dark and he had turned off his headlights, so he couldn't see her face, just the silhouette of her body, which he fucking loved.

"Naw, I can never get sick of you, sweetheart." He knew that she had been only teasing him, but decided to reassure her. "Besides, I'm pretty sure you're the only woman who would put up with my stubborn ass, anyway."

"Good." She laughed a melodious sound. "Now, get your butt in here. I have supper ready and on the table."

"Will there be dessert?" He smirked, even though he knew she couldn't see it on his face.

"I'll see what I can cook up, Dixon." Her voice took on that husky tone Daryl loved and she hung up.

Daryl quickly stuffed the small box back in his pocket, patted it once to make sure it was still there before climbing out of his truck and heading to the front door.

Their house, if described by Carol, was a cozy one story home. It had two bedrooms with one being used as an office, a bathroom, a small kitchen, living room and an alcove for the washer and dryer. They had been renting it for the past six months since both had jobs and were able to afford the monthly bill.

Carol had graduated the spring before and had gotten a job that fall as a third grade teacher. The two years he had spent at a local trade school had flown by. His degree was in a frame on the wall in Carol's office next to hers and the summer would mark his third year working at Charlie's garage. Four months there and he had become Charlie's right hand man.

For five years, they had been dating and after Carol graduated, they decided that the next step was to move in together. Surprisingly, Carol's dad had been okay with it even though they weren't married. He had even helped find the small house, they now rented. In the three years Daryl had been working, he had saved up enough to cover the rent the few months before Carol started working at the school.

Daryl already felt as if he and Carol were married. The ring in his pocket was evidence that he was ready to make it official. He had been in love with her for years, even before they had become a couple. After he had seen how happy Maggie and Mere were on their wedding day, Daryl knew he wanted to have that, too. A marriage to his best friend and woman he loved with all his being.

Finally, he walked through the front door, Stepping out of work boots; he wiped his oily hands on his oily jeans and followed his nose to the kitchen. He hoped Carol wouldn't notice the stains on his pants and allow him to sit down to eat. He was starving.

Carol had her back to him and was pouring something into a large glass bowl. The table was only a few feet away and if he was quiet, Daryl thought that if he tiptoed Carol wouldn't hear him and he would be able to sit down before she saw his jeans.

"Daryl Dixon," her stern voice stopped him in his tracks. Her back was still to him. How had she known he was there? He had been quiet, like he was stalking a deer in the woods.

"Um, yes?" He answered and cringed at how suspicious he sounded. Carol was good at reading the tone of his voice.

"Are those jeans dirty?" Her back was still to him.

"Um. No." Maybe he could make a run for it before she turned around.

"Change them. Now."

"But I said they weren't dirty!" He protested, straightening.

She faced him, then, eyes going directly to his jeans before she looked at his face. "I think I know you pretty well by now, Daryl." She cocked a hip and pointed to the door. "Now, go change. I'll have your plate filled when you get back."

"Fine," he grumbled and headed to his room, shoulders hunched in defeat.

Daryl continued to grumble as he made his way to the room he and Carol shared. This was a normal occurrence for them. He shouldn't have thought that the outcome would have been any different than the other times.

Flipping on the light switch, he walked to his side of the bed, which was closest to the window, and began to unbutton his pants. They slid down his legs and landed in a puddle at his ankles. He replaced them with his pajama bottoms. Next came the sleeveless shirt, which he tossed into the hamper by the door.

The odor coming from his body was calling for a shower, but he didn't feel like taking one at the moment. Not like he had the time for one, anyway. Supper was ready and his stomach was running on empty. If he hadn't spent ten minutes in his truck turning that little box in his hands, he could be clean right now.

Fuck. The box! How could he have forgotten about that? Quickly, he reached down and fished it out of his jean's pocket. He opened one of the drawers of his night table and placed the box inside carefully.

"Daryl!" Carol called, her voice sounding closer than he expected. "Are you coming?" It was coming closer. Quickly, he slammed the drawer door shut, steadied Neil the Snake before he fell, and stood up to run out the door.

He nearly ran into Carol.

"There you are," she smiled, openly admiring his naked chest. Briefly her eyes went the scar that slashed across his collarbone and her fingers went up to trace the name over his heart.

There was no shame in his scars anymore; Carol had made sure of that. After the first time they had made love three years ago, she had kissed the scar on his chest before they both drifted off to sleep.

"I was just makin' sure all of my clothes made it into the damn hamper," he explained, trying hard to reveal that he was lying.

"About time you learned how to use that thing." The hand over his heart slid up to the back of his head and she was about to pull him down for a kiss when her nose wrinkled.

"What?" He asked.

"You stink." She took a step back.

"Course I do." He rolled his eyes. "I just got off work and haven't had time to take a damn shower. Now, I'm starvin' so that shower is goin' to have to wait until after I eat."

"You better because you aren't climbing into bed with me smelling like that." She waved a hand over her nose and tried to look stern, though her nose was still wrinkled.

"And if I don't?" He crossed his arms and smirked.

Carol turned her back to him, but threw over her shoulder. "If you don't, I have heard that the couch is pretty comfortable."

Daryl didn't say anything. Instead, he took one long stride, wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "I'll only take a shower," he said, trailing kisses down her neck. "If you join me."

"Hmm." She tilted her head to the side, diving Daryl more room to kiss. "I did work up a sweat today dealing with my students. A shower does sound tempting."

"Of course it sounds temptin', sweetheart. I'll be in there with you." With one arm, he spun her around to face him so he could kiss her properly on the mouth.

Carol pushed against his chest before the kiss could get deeper. "If we don't stop, our supper will be cold by the time we sit down to eat it." She pressed a finger to his mouth when it looked like he was going to respond. "And don't you dare say 'fuck dinner' Daryl Dixon. I slaved over that stove for an hour."

"Fine." He scowled. "But you better not get mad when I start shovelin' food in my mouth." He walked past her, hand ghosting on her arm, and made his way into the kitchen. Carol sighed and shook her head, a small playing on her lips.

There were no measurable words for how much she loved him.

Fifteen minutes later, Daryl had managed to fill his stomach with Carol's good cooking and was working to satiate his other hunger. Impatiently, he had waited for Carol to finish her meal before he was pulling her to the bathroom. All the while, he ignored her protests of cleaning off the table and doing the dishes.

"They'll sill be there when we finish," he said and shut the door to the bathroom. Turning to Carol, he pulled her shirt over her head and worked on her bra clasp. While this was happening, her nimble fingers were pulling down his sleep pants.

The water was still chilly when they finally stepped into the tub. However, Daryl quickly warmed them up by pulling her close and giving Carol a searing kiss. He knew he could kiss this woman all day.

When the water finally warmed up some, Carol pulled away from him to grab the shampoo and turned her back to him so she could lather her hair. "You know, Daryl," she said, glancing over her shoulder when she felt one of hands wrap around her abdomen and start moving up to her breasts. "The point of a shower is to get clean."

"Oh, I know." He took a step back and waited for Carol to rinse the suds from her before pulling her close to place an open mouth kiss to the underside of her ear. Every time he did that, Carol felt her knees go weak.

"Well, then, help me get clean." She turned and forced a bar of soap into his hands. "When you're finished with me," she turned, giving him access to her back. "I'll help you."

Daryl grinned. "I fuckin' love showers."

The water had turned cold by the time they finally stepped out of the shower. Carol's feet barely touched the ground before Daryl was lifting her up to carry her to the bedroom. "No time to get dry, sweetheart," he said. "I need you now." The words came out as a growl and he laid Carol down on the bed.

When he looked down, the breath left him. Carol looked so beautiful lying there with her glistening skin and the way she started to stretch out on the bed. And though, her hair was wet and stuck to her skin, he still couldn't wait to run his hands through it.

There wasn't a day where Daryl didn't consider himself lucky that he could come home to Carol.

Carol, seeing the look in his eye, scooted back until her head was on the pillow and reached for him with a bright smile. It didn't take him long to respond to her silent request. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. He moaned when her tongue snaked out of her mouth to join his. One of her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him so that they were flush against one another.

She felt him on her stomach, which wasn't where she wanted him to be. So, she shifted her body, tilted her hips just so and threw her head back when he understood what she was doing and sank into her fully.

Daryl trailed kisses down from her neck to her collarbone, but other than that, she was staying still. He was doing it on purpose.

"Daryl!" She whined.

"Yes?" He looked down at her with a smug smile, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Move. Now," she begged.

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He kissed her one last time and started to move.

Early the next morning, Daryl woke to the annoying screeching of his alarm clock. Daryl rolled over with a groan and slammed his hand on the off button. "Daryl," Carol whined from beside him, her eyes opened into little slits. She was no where near ready to get up. "Do you really have to go to work today? It's Saturday."

He rolled back over and gave her a quick kiss before getting out of bed. "Yeah," he answered and walked to their shared closet, still naked. "Charlie is still sick and he needs me to come in to work on the payroll." Whenever Charlie wasn't at work, which wasn't often, Daryl would step in and be in charge.

Carol sat up and rubbed her eyes. The sheet that was used to cover them as they slept slipped down and exposed her nakedness to him. But she didn't move to cover herself up. Instead, she climbed out of bed and wrapped her arms around Daryl's waist. She pressed her cheek against his back and kissed the tattoos on his shoulder. "He's been sick for a couple days, now. Has he gone to the doctor, yet?"

"Naw, you know Charlie. He ain't goin' to go to the doctor unless he's coughin' up blood or some shit like that." He pulled a shirt from the hanger. Carol took a step back to allow him to put it on. She watched in fascination as his muscles in his arms and back flexed as he put the shirt on.

After he slipped on a pair of work jeans, he grabbed a pair of white socks from his dresser drawer. He sat at the edge of the bed to slip them on his feet. He glanced up at Carol, who was still standing there looking at him, and asked, "Are you not goin' to get dressed?"

"Nope," She smirked and went down on her knees in front of him. "I think I'm going to lie around naked all day." She slid her hands up his thighs and gave him a coy look. "Maybe it'll help you come home faster."

Daryl stood, pulling her with, knowing that if he allowed her hands to wander; he wouldn't be able to leave. "You're goin' to make me not want to leave the house." He growled into her neck before kissing it.

She slipped one of her small hands beneath his shirt, her cool fingers trailed upwards. "Then. Don't," she whispered.

Reluctantly, he pulled away. "Fuck, I can't. I got work to do. But I'll be home around three." It took all of his willpower to walk past her naked body and not touch it.

"What am I going to do then?" She pouted.

He shrugged and turned back to her. "I don't know. Maybe catch up on your gradin'." His eyes raked over her body, giving him something to envision during the boring hours of work. "You might want to get dressed before then, though." With a wink, he was gone.

Thanks for reading!