This story is set somewhere around day 40 of the global outbreak, a couple of weeks before Rick joins the party at the quarry. Daryl/OC short story. Adult content.

I do not own The Walking Dead or it's characters.

"Fuck!" The expletive hitched out of her dry throat at the sharp pain in her ankle. But she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. She couldn't even slow her lightning pace, or she was dead.

Cutting through the trees, as fast as any human has ever run for their life, she had a near-miss with a hidden, smooth rock. It almost took her down, but she recovered at the expense of her now screaming ankle. Her breath coming in short, hot pants, she kept her eyes ahead and kept moving. Her peripherals keeping her informed of the amassing number of dead, hot on her heals. More and more staggering numbers moving out from behind trees. The hungry looking for their next meal.

So many now. The world was being outweighed and out numbered by the walking corpses of once loved friends and family members. Their putrid breath steaming from their gnashing mouths. Rotted bodies frantically chasing their primal urge to eat. Eat us.

Sprinting through the semi-dense forest around her, as best anyone could on a fucked up ankle, the only direction in mind is away from the pack of dead chasing behind her. Chasing her in their ragged and raging fashion.

Anything. Anywhere. All she could see was trees. The sky above her broke. It had been threatening to do so all day and now was the moment the clouds decided to open on her. The rain came hard, like someone had burst open a pipe, cutting though the stifling summer air. Big heavy rain drops fell on her head like stones.

Chancing a glance over her shoulder, through the drops on her eyelashes, she caught sight of another moving body. Not a corpse, another living human. The man was moving at her same break-neck speed (though she noted with significantly more grace). Her eyes darted between her path and the man beside her, looking to see if he had any clue where they were headed. His eyes caught hers and he raised his wet arm to point in a direction across from her, at her 2 o'clock. She followed his gesture and saw a clearing. With an actual direction in mind, her body lifted at the proverbial 'light at the end of the tunnel'. Her feet quickened, and her and the man moved towards the thinned out trees. The man now at her back, his breathe coming out in hot panting waves at her neck, moved so he was on her heels. Letting her guide the way through the woods around them, as he kept his strong eyes on the look out for their predators.

That old feeling of dread crept into her stomach as they approached the tree line. The trees ended because they had come to a cut away. The future building sight below them, cleared of trees and scraped back of dirt, left a steep cliff (for lack of a better term) at their feet. Her pace slowed as her eyes searched for a way to the ground below. The man at her back, hardly hesitated at the sight before him. He moved to her side, still behind her, and put his large hands around her waist with an arm wrapped around her lower back. She turned her head with wide eyes to him but not even getting to make the eye contact she need to convey her message of "Don't you fucking push me!". His pace didn't even slow as he dragged them both over the edge.

His body pushed hard against hers, keeping them both upright as they half ran-half slid through the loose dirt and muddying clay of the cliff face. Still being upright gave her a moment of clarity, that maybe her fear of falling had made her misjudge the hillside as being much steeper than it was.

Their feet hit the sudden change from sloppy hillside to solid ground with a thud. Their speed crumpled them into a wet heap at the ground at the bottom. Getting to his feet first, he grabbed at her arm with a vice grip and wretched her to her feet. Her stabbing ankle making her stumble forward in the puddles, as they moved in the direction of a small site office, about 50 feet away. The man released her arm and ran in front of her, reaching for the crossbow slung over his shoulder and across his back. Seeing him move for his weapon instinctively moved her hand for the knife at her belt. Her pride and joy. Her one weapon in this world against an unstoppable army of dead. Releasing it from the leather sheath on her hip, she flexed her fingers around the grip and scanned her eyes around for the next skull she was going to push the long blade into.

Her confidence flamed back into her at the sight of her target. Six dead men in varying heavy duty work gear staggered from the cleared site to their right, around the building that was to be her/their safe haven from the storm and the swarm of dead in the forest behind them. Remembering her strength, she lifted her strong frame back onto her legs. She moved to the crossbow-man's left as he released bolt after bolt from his weapon into the dead moving towards them. Knife in her right hand, she moved to the small removable building on their left. The site office was blocked by a dead man in a tie and hard hat, a foreman of sorts. As the corpse moved his decaying frame towards her with mouth open and arms outstretched, she darted to the left and drove her knife up into the rotting flesh of his jaw. The dead weight dropped to the ground at her feet as she pulled her blade from his throat with a wet slick noise. She glanced over her shoulder at the man with the crossbow. He had slid his weapon back over his shoulder and was mimicking her moves with his own knife on the last two staggering workmen. She turned back to the door, up the two stairs, and reached for the handle. The wet handle slipped in her slightly shaking grip. She steadied herself and set her hand on the handle properly. It turned with some force. It's lack of use, rusting the inner workings, a good sign things were undisturbed inside. She flung the door open and turned back to the man behind her.

"Come on!" She yelled to him before her voice cut off. A cold, hard hand gripped her arm and turned her eyes back to the office as a blank-eyed corpse threw itself at her face, lunging to bite into her flesh. She threw herself away from the dead rotting teeth and fell backwards down the stairs, bring the flesh eater with her. In the same movement she brought the knife up to her eye level and braced it with two hands. The impact of the fall both knocking all the air from her lungs and forcing the face of the dead man onto the blade she clutched before her. She turned her head as the oozing brain goo leaked from the corpse's eye socket where her knife now sat, sheathed in the skull of her would-be killer.

Gasping for air to inflate her winded lungs, she struggled to release herself from under the dead weight. As creeping black stars started to bloom into her vision from the lack of air getting into her body and oxygen getting to her brain, she felt the weight of the corpse roll off of her. The rain she had been temporarily sheltered from, hit her in the face in cold heavy splashes again, as her wide eyes stared up at the heavens and took in desperate gasps of the warm wet air around her. The corpse's brain goo at her cheek was wiped roughly away by a red rag in the hand of the man crouching over her. She took in her breathes, while he cleared away the muck and then helped her sit up and get back to her knees. The rain hit her hard as she sat back on her heels in the puddles, getting that much needed oxygen moving through her again. The man standing beside her glanced around for any more attackers as she took her breaths, and then looked inside the now empty office. Being washed free of goo and some of the mud by the rain above, she moved to her feet and pulled herself up the stairs. The man behind her put a hand to her lower back and guided her inside before glancing one more time over his shoulder and closing the door behind them.

The office was just a small rectangular room with a few small high windows and a single door through which they just entered. Lightly furnished with a desk and chair, a few filing cabinets, shelves and an old couch, that had seen it's fair share of worksites, which sat across the room from the door. It was littered with some papers and other personal workspace items, obviously knocked about by the dead man they had just removed from the building. Staggering inside, she threw herself on the ground and let herself just breathe while crossbow-man set himself against the filing cabinets and pushed them, one at a time, in front of the door.

After the second one was in place, barricading the door, he slid down the wall beside it and caught his own breath. From her spot on the floor, she turned her face towards him and now finally got her first proper look at the man she was holed up with. He sat with his back against the wall and his knees up in front of him. His crossbow now idle on the floor beside him as he rest his head on his forearms, which were crossed over his knees, hiding his face. Just as covered in mud as she was and taking steady heavy breaths, he wore faded jeans and steel-capped boots, the new uniform of the surviving few, as she called it. His wet sleeveless t-shirt clinging to him, that faded browny colour that could once have been red or even white, but was now permanently changed thanks to the new laundry techniques reintroduced from, what felt like, the dark ages. His dark, short-cropped mess of hair, wet from the storm dripped slowly down his hard arms and onto the floor between his feet. He lifted his head and met her eyes with a sharp but tired gaze. She suddenly realised she had been staring at him for the past few minutes now.

Rolling to her side, she sat up. She shuffled to a few feet in front of him and sat cross legged.

"Rebecca." She croaked at him as her voice cut off and she extended her hand to shake his. He regarded her for just a moment before wiping his hand on his jeans and returning the gesture.

"Daryl." He replied in a southern gruff voice. A short shake and their hands both dropped, returning to their own laps.

Her dry throat closed on her as her mind suddenly went blank, trying to conjure up what she should say next. 'Thank you', 'Got anything to drink', 'How about this weather', 'So, end of the world huh?' she could say a lot but nothing would pass her lips, so she ended up just sort of looking blank. Putting it down to pure physical and mental exhaustion she pulled her eyes away from his and sheepishly ran a hand up into her wet loose braid. Her go-to move in awkward situations.

She turned away from him and moved to stand on her legs. Feeling as wobbly as a newborn foal, she set her jaw and forced herself to look strong, not wanting to look even more like a git in front of the guy she was locked in a box with. She turned and leaned her butt against the desk behind her, facing the open room and not the man watching her move from his spot on the floor, to her left. She pulled her hair free from the tie at the end of her hair and shook out her wet and muddied, loose plait. She ran her fingers through her long hair, pulling it all back, before securing it in a pony tail with her hair tie.

Looking around the floor in front of her, she spotted her knife near the foot of the couch, opposite the door. She stepped forward and picked it up, wiping it on her jeans she caught the eye again of the man watching her. He seemed to tense up when she picked it up, but relaxed again (well sort of relaxed in his intense sort of way) when she pushed it into the sheath on her belt.

Rebecca suddenly realised she was trapped in a small box with a man she didn't know and a bunch of weapons and no one else around except for the walking dead from the forest behind them.

"You aren't like a rapist or anything are you?" She cringed at her own words realising how stupid they were and wishing she could catch them in the air and stuff them back into her stupid fucking mouth.

"No, I ain't a rapist." He said with a incredulous sneer on his mouth, spitting out that last word like it left a foul taste in his mouth.

"Uh… Yeah… I realised that." She back peddled as fast as she could, shaking her head at herself. "If you were, you probably would have…um… tried something already, I guess. I'm sorry." She replied.

He let out a huff of breath and looked around the small space around them. He pushed himself to his feet and moved to behind the desk. Rebecca's eyes followed him around with interest as he started looking around through the draws of the desk. He had broad shoulders and a set of arms on him that made her legs quake in a way that had nothing to do with how exhausted she was. She realised she was staring again, so she pushed herself away from the desk and sat down on the couch near her, looking at her feet, looking at the wall, looking at anything to keep her eyes off of him.

He finished pawing through the draws and turned to his right. He noticed a small bar fridge under a stack of knocked over folders and opened it. The rancid smell of old takeaway and yogurt had him slam it shut again as his eyes watered at the odour. He ripped it open again and shut it just as quick. Daryl stood up and put two bottles of water on the desk beside him. He lifted his eyes to the girl, who was looking at her shoes with a stunning amount of interest, and clicked his tongue at her. Getting her attention, he tossed one of the bottles of water to her with a short nod of his head. She smiled back at him, with a nod of her own as thanks, and cracked the bottle open. He watched her as she bought the bottle to her lips and took short gulps of the water. He bit at the inside of his cheek and slid his eyes down her body. She was strong looking, and tall for a girl. Maybe athletic, maybe not, with softly tanned skin. She wore straight leg faded jeans that tucked into her muddied boots. A grey t-shirt that fit her loosely, but just right. Her height came from her long legs and firm posture. She had feminine soft dark eyes and long dark hair that, in the pony tail, fell to the middle of her back. Not exactly practical in this world, but the thought of it brushing down her naked back heated his blood and gave him twinges in the front of his jeans. He dropped his eyes to his own bottle of water, and cracked the lid as he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Turning his back to her he drank his water and started riffling through the piles of crap on the shelving behind the desk.

He found some candles next to a photo in a frame of a woman and another of some kids. Clearly the foreman's wife's idea at changing that familiar musty smell that accumulates in a site office, they were scented. A candle is a candle. At least they won't be waiting out the night in the dark.

Happy with his find, Daryl turned around saw Rebecca taking off her boots and rolling her ankle around, a soft wince on her face as she turned her foot left to right.

"Y'all righ'?" He asked as he put the candles on the desk. Taking a step around the bench top, he moved in her direction.

"Uh… yeah. …It's ok." She stumbled at the words. She hadn't realised Daryl was watching her. She rolled her ankle around again and forced a smile to her face which ended up being more of a grimace.

He nodded and stepped back again, now leaning against the desk as Rebecca had earlier, looking at his own shoes with feigned interest and biting at the nail on the side of his thumb.

"So… are you out here by yourself?" Rebecca asked, the question coming out a bit squeakier than she hoped it would.

"Yeah, …sorta." He faulted at his own words. "I was out huntin' by m'self. But I'm with a bunch a people at a quarry." He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "'bout you?"

"Um, yep alone. I was driving and stopped at a car abandoned on the road to get some fuel before a long drive. And while I was out, I got cut off from my car by a whole bunch of Dead that hit me at once." She shrugged. "Had to bolt. That's pretty much where you found me."

"We were 'bout 5 miles from a road. Yeh musta been goin' for a while." He said with a furrowed brow.

Rebecca shrugged again, speaking out the side of her mouth. "Sounds about right." She shifted in her seat on the couch. "Where are you from?" She asked casually, thankful that the conversation was getting easier and the tension not being so high in their small space.

"Not far outta Atlanta. You?" He asked, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

"Uh, I'm from Nevada. I came here to find my brother." She smiled a little as she noticed Daryl's shoulders drop a fraction and relax a bit himself. She continued the conversation. "He was a doctor working at the refuge centre in Atlanta." She watched Daryl's mouth twitch at the corner as he resumed biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes dropped and his face turned into an expression that could be his version of pity. Realising what made his face drop, she added "Oh, I know they napalmed Atlanta. I already found that out myself." She grimaced and looked at her hands, her fingers laced together with her palms up. "I also found out that they split the doctor service between Atlanta and Fort Benning. So that is my next stop." She shrugged her shoulders and lifted her eyes back to Daryl.

"I got a brother." He nodded his head at her, understanding that she knew her search was futile, but she still had to try.

She grimaced to herself and shook her head. "Next subject…" She looked around the room. "Tell me about yourself."

….

The sun was down and after another shuffle around some draws and cabinets, Daryl had found the foreman's secret stash. A packet of Doritoes and a half full small flask of, what he happily recognised as, Jack Daniels. Both with their boots off to try to dry out their socks and shoes, Rebecca and Daryl sat, in candlelight, on the old, under-stuffed couch and shared their 'dinner'. Passing the flask back to the girl beside him, he asked her about something he had noticed earlier.

"That the only ink you got?" He nodded at her turned out hand as she wrapped her long fingers around the flask.

"No." She replied with a smirk as her eyes flicked to the small butterfly she had on the inside of her middle finger. She smiled inwardly at the thought of her other tattoo and a heat rose in her cheeks. She dared a quick glance at Daryl's face beside her and was rewarded with a second wave of heat though her face. "What?" She questioned with a sheepish grin, casting her eyes away from him and back to the flask she was playing with in her hands.

"Go'on. Where is it?" He asked with a glint of mischief as he bit at the inside of his cheek.

"Do you have any?" She asked, looking back into his eyes with what she hoped wasn't too big a stupid grin on her face.

"Yeah… Show ya mine, if ya show me yers." He said in a soft voice. Mumbling with a small smirk on his lips.

Daryl was shocked at the lines coming from his own mouth. He was never a wordsmith with women. His usual was more along the lines of sitting at the bar and letting women do all the talking. A woman would approach him, he would buy her a drink, she would run her mouth for a while and after a bit he would end up at her place, or in the bar bathroom, or the flat bed of his pickup. That was his usual. This was something else.

"I don't know, it might not be a fair trade." She blushed. "Show me yours first and I'll think about it."

His mouth changed from his smirk to biting at his thumb nail again. After a pause, Daryl slowly leaned forward on the couch and moved onto his knees in front of, but facing away from Rebecca. He put his fingers to the bottom of his sleeveless shirt and peeled it up off his body.

Before she could stop herself, Rebecca pulled in a sharp breath. Daryl's back was littered with scars. Deep and long and troubling scars that bought a watery feeling to the edge of Rebecca's eyes, but she fought it away not wanting the man to see her pity. They hardly knew each other, had only just met, yet he showed her a part of himself she could tell was deeply private. She swallowed back her tears and moved her eyes to the other mark on his back. His tattoo of two winged demons on and below his right shoulder blade. She reached forward and brushed her thumb over the black ink markings on his back. Goosebumps radiated from her touch across his skin, but he didn't move. If anything he leaned into her touch slightly. Rebecca pulled her hand back, a bit shocked at her own actions. Daryl sat back up on the couch, shirt in hand and looked at Rebecca. A piercing look that said the volumes the man didn't or couldn't say with words, as he bit at the inside of his cheek. She looked back at him with a slight quiver in her lips, causing her to suck her lips back into her mouth and wet them before letting out a soft breath. Daryl dropped his eyes back to his shirt in his hands and moved to put it back on. Rebecca shot her hand out, onto the shirt and held it as she stood up. She took it from him and dropped it on the couch where she had been sitting.

Her comment about it not being a fair trade was still true she felt, but the scales were tipped back the other way. Daryl had shown her a lot more than what she was about to show him.

Standing in front of him she unhooked her belt and unzipped the fly of her jeans. Daryl's eyes were on her actions, not moving, not breathing. She slid her jeans from her long legs and took a slightly wavering step towards Daryl, turning her hip so he could see the tattoo down her left thigh. A thin cherry blossom tree wrapped around her thigh from just above her knee to the top of her leg. In the same way Rebecca had touched Daryl's tattoo, his hand reached out before he could question his own actions. He placed his hand at the top of the tree and ran it down along the trunk to the roots that finish at her knee cap. His soft touch and his rough, calloused hand brought a sudden heat to Rebecca's body that boiled between her legs. Daryl tore his eyes away from the tattoo and met Rebecca's deep dark eyes staring back at him. The eye contact twinged something in Rebecca's throat. Her lips parted as she dropped her gaze to Daryl's mouth. She swallowed the lump in her throat and moved her face down closer to his, his mouth only a movement away. Her hands balled together against her abdomen, trying to stop the butterflies churning in her stomach as the heat rose up through her body.

Daryl's hand left her knee and joined with his other to cup her face. His heart beating so loudly in his chest it was all he could hear. His breath coming from his lips in hot heavy pants. He pushed forward and drove his mouth onto her open pouting lips. Her soft, full lips tasting so sweet as his tongue slip past them into her mouth. He slid his hands around to the back of her hair, tangling in the loose, still slightly wet, pony tail swishing behind her as she fell forward.

Her hands left her knotted stomach and braced her from her fall against Daryl's hard body. Her left hand on his chest and her right hand, his thigh. Their kiss drew the air from her lungs and left her gasping against his mouth as she righted her balance and moved her body down against his. Her right knee between his on the edge of the couch, her legs straddled his thigh as she shifted her body slightly offside to his. She tilted her head to deepen their kiss.

Daryl's hands left her hair and slid down her body, over her back, to her waist, so he could help her keep her balance. He dropped his hands to her hips and gripped her tightly, pulling her down against him.

The pressure at her sides causing a wave of heat to melt her body, her suddenly supple form rolled against his thigh, grinding herself down on his hard leg. A shiver slid up her body and came gasping from her mouth. Her sharp intake of breath coupled with a soft noise from inside her chest, broke her lips from Daryl's. The small space between their faces heated by his hot, moist breath puffing from his mouth into her face. Her eyes met his and she drove her mouth back down onto his. Her tongue slid across his teeth and met his tongue on it's way to her mouth.

A growl came from somewhere inside Daryl's sternum, as she nipped and bit hungrily at his mouth. His hands left her hips and continued their journey down her writhing body. He hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her. Manipulating her body, he moved her thigh from between his legs to over himself, so she was straddled over his groin. He moaned into her mouth as she pushed herself down and ground against the hard erection in his lap. Daryl suddenly realised there was far too much clothing between them right now. He slid his hands from where he was kneading her thighs to the bottom of her t-shirt. She pulled back from his mouth and raised her arms as he ripped the shirt over her body and threw it away to the side.

Rebecca put her arms behind her back and unhooked the plain black cotton bra as Daryl kissed down her neck and jaw with heated nips. She cast the bra away and put her hands behind his head as his hungry, wet mouth trailed down her clavicle towards her chest. She sucked in a shuddering breath as his hot mouth found her hard nipple and the soft flesh of her mounds.

His hands had settled against her body again. One kneading her thigh, the other around her back pulling her hard against him. Her soft flesh tasting as beautiful as it looked, his mouth watering as he moved to nip her other breast. He felt her fingers grip his short hair and push his head into her chest. She then reversed it and pulled him away from her. She crushed her rolling hips down onto his hardness again as she pushed her swollen mouth to his for another deep, wet kiss.

Daryl shuddered as he felt his hard length turn to steel and his balls boil in response to her grinding movements. He pushed his mouth hard into hers and then broke away with a gasp. To her surprise, and some to his own, he lifted her off himself and half placed-half threw her to the couch beneath them. He put his hand behind her head and pulled the loose tie from her hair, letting it cascade over the couch to almost the floor. He braced himself on his left forearm while his right hand made its way down and over her body. Kneading and pulling her harder against him.

Rebecca pushed her mouth up and captured his lips in soft, wet, nippy sort of kisses. Her hands snaking between her an Daryl, where she could, to the waist of his jeans.

He felt the need in her frantic movements on his fly and broke a gap between them to look down and see her jilted actions. Her hands making messy work of his pants, and taking far to long. He pulled back from her and sat up, to the sound of a regretful squeak escaping her swollen lips. Instead of going to his pants, he wrapped his fingers around the elastic waistband of the last shred of clothing she had between him and her. He manipulated the bit of material around her behind and slid it from her legs in the air between them.

Rebecca, not knowing what to do with her hands, reached forward to Daryl's jeans, again trying to undo the button with too much haste. He swatted her hands away with a smirk to her shocked expression and undid the button and fly himself with ease. Rebecca sat up, captured Daryl with her arms around his broad back, and pulled him back towards her. Using her feet she pushed his loose jeans and underwear down his thighs to his knees.

Daryl crushed his mouth again to Rebecca's as his hard length slid against her wet, hot centre. A shudder running through him, bucking his hips against hers. Left hand bracing himself on the couch over her, his right hand slid under her butt and lifted her thigh over his hip, opening her up to him. He broke their kiss and looked into Rebecca's dark wet eyes. Her need for him screaming in her eyes and echoing in the hands that were pawing at his back and shoulders. He watched her expression change from that of need, to one of soft bliss. A hissing noise escaping from her throat as he pushed himself forward into her. Her velvet, slick folds resisting his invasion but quickly subsiding as he pushed harder. He withdrew as she convulsed beneath him.

Rebecca lifted her other leg to his hips and wrapped herself around him, trying to hold onto him as the world fell away from behind her. His hard length stretched her core in the best kind of way. Her hands scratch at his back and she bucked her hips to meet his long hard strokes as he pushed back into her, and again.

Daryl's pace quickened as need surpassed his desire to draw this out as long as he could. His arms wrapped around behind Rebecca as he put his weight on his forearms. Pushing her thighs up against her body, he pushed harder and faster into her. This wasn't going to take long. He felt her arms grip around his shoulders at the same time her inner walls began to tighten around his cock. With each stroke inside her, he sensed a tightening of a coil, ready to spring forward with her orgasm. Hoping that she was going to get there first, he dropped his head to her neck and began feasting and lathing his lips on her rapidly beating pulse.

His mouth to her jaw sent a lightning bolt through her body. The rhythm she had with Daryl's thrusts, went off the rails as she rocked and bucked beneath him. The wave that had been threatening to wash her away crashed inside her like a tsunami. Her body writhed and she gasped. Her orgasm rippled through her body like electric eels as Daryl's strokes suddenly became frantic and uncontrolled.

"Fuck." He growled, hot in her ear. Her body still rolled beneath him, riding out her orgasm as he shuddered to his own, hard, inside her. His hips shook wildly as hers kept bucking with a mind of their own.

Their breathing slowed together as he rested his weight on top of her. His heart beating so hard she could feel it out thumping her own in her own chest. Their sweat slicked bodies wrapped tightly against each other. With Daryl's face buried into her neck and ear, Rebecca's legs quaked uncontrollably from her dissipating orgasm. She drew her fingers slowly up and down his back and his breathing softened into her clavicle.

Not wanting to, but knowing they were going to have to break away at some point, Daryl lifted his head and his weight from Rebecca's body that was sandwiched between him and the old couch. He felt her shudder as his softened cock slid from her sensitive core. His arms still beneath her, he pulled her up just a fraction and met her swollen lips with a soft kiss. She puffed a half breath into his face when his lips left hers. A rosy glow colouring her cheeks to match her red lips. Her glazed eyes met his and a spark flew between them, waking her from her post-orgasm daze. She sighed in his arms and tightened her grip where her hands had settled on his biceps. She blinked and smiled at his satisfied smirk. He leaned away from her and grabbed on to her wrists, pulling her to a sitting position as he kneeled back on the couch between her legs. Her hair fell to her back and some spilled around her shoulders to her cover her breasts. She moved her legs from around Daryl's hips on the couch to the floor beside her.

With another deep sigh, she used what little strength she had in her bones to pull herself up. She walked on shaky legs to the box of tissues on the shelf behind the desk. Pulling a few from the box she wiped up the cum, hers and Daryl's, from between her legs. Binning the tissues in the waste paper basket on it's side under the desk, she caught Daryl's eyes as he was hitching his jeans up from where they had been around his knees. A weird expression flitted across his features as he turned his face away, back to his shirt, that had been under Rebecca the whole time. She walked back to her clothes, which had travelled a lot further than Daryl's, and began picking the bits and pieces up from everywhere around them, tossing them onto the couch.

A weird vibe filled the room and settled in amongst the smell of sex. Rebecca frowned at the turned away form of Daryl putting his shirt back on. She climbed back into her underwear and bra and stood with her hands on her hips facing him, waiting for him to turn around.

He felt her eyes on his back and turned around. A darker expression troubling his face, as he chewed the inside of his cheek.

"What?" She asked curtly, getting a bit pissed at the weirdness that had suddenly clouded the fucking awesome experience they had just shared.

He twitched a bit at the question, clearly not know the words he needed.

"What?" Rebecca asked again, a bit less harsh with softer eyes on him.

"We didn't just…" He cut off. "You ain't gonna get …pregnant or anything are ya?"

The odd words, or maybe the way he said it, made a small laugh escape her throat. His expression softened a bit at the sound of her laughter, but was clearly confused.

"Sorry, I shouldn't laugh." She giggled out. "No, I'm not going to get pregnant. But thank you for caring." She walked towards him and took his hand in hers. He sensed there was a bigger story there, but didn't push for it. "Don't worry." She nodded her head at him and his features lightened as he nodded back and cleared the thought from his head.

He looked at her hand in his and gave it a squeeze before dropping it and reaching for her clothes behind her on the couch. He opened her shirt and turned it right-side-out holding it up in front of her face to put her arms in. She pushed forward into the shirt as he dragged it down her body. He cupped his hands under her butt and pulled her towards him. His mouth turned up at the corner as his gaze roved over her soft face with her thousand watt smile. He pushed a soft kiss to her lips for only a second before breaking their hold again.

Her hands slid down his shoulders from their place around his neck, and finally from his body completely. With a short sigh, she reached behind her for her jeans and her socks which had long since dried. Dressing quickly, she spared a glance over her shoulder at Daryl, who was dragging the office chair over to the high window on the wall with the door. She sat on the couch and collected herself as she watched him climb the chair and peer out the small rectangle window. After a quick look around, he seemed satisfied that they were safe for a while longer.

Daryl dropped down off the chair and picked up his discarded crossbow. He set the weapon down on the desk next to where Rebecca's knife had found itself earlier. Sitting down beside her on the couch and putting an arm comfortably around her back, he drew her into his chest. He picked up a loose length of hair and held it in front of his eyes.

"Kinda impractical ain't it?" The sound of his voice making Rebecca jump slightly.

"What? My hair?" She questioned hazily. "I like my hair."

He smirked at her reply

"Yeah, I like it too." He muttered, dropping the length behind her ear and placing a soft kiss on top of her head.

She smiled into his chest and let herself drift to sleep to the sound of his breathing and strong beating heart.

…...

Morning came with a cloudless dawn. Only the puddles they could see from the small windows around the office giving any clue that there even was a storm.

The pair had woken from sleep together when Rebecca had turned herself and dream-nuzzled her face into Daryl's neck. The smell of clean sweat, pine and cigarette smoke better than even waking up to the smell of cooking bacon.

Their position had slumped a bit during the night, but each woke, still holding the other.

Rebecca sat up and stretched her back and long legs that had been curled up beside her on the couch all night. Stiff and aching was how she woke up most mornings these days, but this morning she also had a sore spot between her legs too. The sharp feeling bringing with it a flood of memories of the hot and heavy sex from last night with the almost stranger beside her. A stranger who bought a smile to her lips as he sunk a hand into his jeans and had a morning scratch.

He wasn't a complete stranger. They had had a chat before the tattoos and scars and stripping of clothes. He was very different from her, but that didn't stop the attraction. Where she was a student of medicine and an artist and an athlete, and had had a rather privileged life up until the apocalypse, he was a man from a rough part of the world with a hard life and harder family. While they had shared a bit about each other, nothing had really scratched the surface. Despite not really knowing him or his past, looking in his eyes she saw all she needed to know.

He stood up and climbed the chair again, looking out at the littering of twice-dead corpses outside from yesterdays efforts.

"Come with me to the quarry." He stated flatly, not looking at her, knowing what her reply would be.

"I can't. My brother." She sighed.

"Yeah." He said softly as he dropped his eyes from the window, biting at the inside of his cheek.

The silence hung heavy in the air as neither knew how to proceed past the question that had already been answered.

Rebecca picked herself up from the couch and reached for her boots. She leaned against the desk, next to the crossbow, and pulled on her dry boots. Lacing them up, she watched in her peripheral as Daryl crossed his arms over his chest and chewed at the side of his thumb nail. She dropped her foot from her knee and lifted her eyes to meet his.

"I can't." She said in a soft voice that barely made it past her lips.

"I know." He whispered back as he put his arms around her shoulders and she dropped her head to his hard chest, her hands wrapped around his back.

A moment, that's all they could have in this world. A moment last night, and a moment now in each others arms.

Daryl put his hand to her chin and tilted her head back. A rough thumb wiping a weary tear from her face. He pressed his lips to hers and breathed a sigh. Holding for a moment the last kiss they would share. Feeling her soft mouth against his.

He stood up straight, pulling his mouth away from hers and turned his head away. He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder. Moving towards the door he rubbed at his tired eyes, wiping the tickling feeling away.

Rebecca grabbed her knife and slid it back into the sheath on her belt. She helped Daryl drag the filing cabinets away from office exit, and then readied herself to return to the horrible world beyond the doorway.

"I'm at least taking ya back to yer car. Crazy woman, probably gonna git herself lost in the woods." He smirked over his shoulder. He raised his crossbow and moved down the steps with Rebecca behind him.

This has been a Daryl D/OC one shot. But I AM continuing this story, from another point in TWD story. If you want to leave it there you are welcome to. If not and you want to see where this story goes, please follow. The story is going to get darker as life gets harder for the survivors.