Disclaimer: I own nothing and no character from The Walking Dead.

Summary: At 35, Carol Morgan is a single mom. Her best friend thinks it's time for her to get back in the dating crowd and sets her up on a blind date. What Carol finds when she meets the handsome blue-eyed Daryl Dixon is much more than she ever expected.

AU/No ZA

Kismet

Chapter 1

Carol Morgan considered herself to be a lucky woman. At thirty-five, she had the good fortune to own a house and a car, and she was lucky enough to have a pretty solid group of friends and a good paying job with very flexible hours. The fact that she was most proud of, however, was that she was the mother of very rambunctious, very adventurous four-year-old twins. Sam and Sophia were the loves of her life, and her most cherished memories were of bringing them into the world and watching them begin to grow into the amazing little people they were.

She had been lucky in life, in work, in motherhood, but when it came to love, Carol had shied away. Her last relationship, over five years ago, had ended badly. She had almost married Ed Peletier, but he had at least had the decency to show his true colors before she took that fated walk down the aisle. She'd dodged a bullet, for sure.

So today, as she took a long lunch to meet her best friend at their favorite café she felt her stomach twisted in knots. Michonne had called her with a "great idea." Michonne's "great ideas" often involved trying to set Carol up with a man. Last month, she'd set her up with Phillip Blake, a somewhat handsome man with a smile that eerily reminded her of Ed's in the beginning. One look into his eyes had sent a shiver down her spine, and not in a good way. She'd excused herself to go to the bathroom, and, a fact that she was not exactly proud of, had hailed a cab and immediately called Michonne asking her what exactly she'd been under the influence of when she'd thought they'd make a good match.

Michonne was seated at their usual table by the window, and she flashed Carol a wide grin, waving her over as Carol rolled her eyes and shook her head. Michonne gave her that "get your ass in here now" look, and Carol obliged, politely telling the hostess that greeted her that she was Michonne's lunch date.

"Alright, unless it's Liam Neeson, I want no part of it," Carol muttered, sliding into the seat across from Michonne's. Michonne made a face and brought her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip.

"What is it with you and Liam Neeson?"

"The accent," Carol said, batting her eyelashes. "He's very tall and handsome, too, but mostly, the accent." Michonne rolled her eyes.

"Well, beggars can't be choosers."

"Who's begging? You're the one that's desperate for me to meet a man."

"Carol, I mean this in the sweetest, most delicate way possible, but you haven't had sex in five years, and you need…"

"Excuse me?!" Carol scoffed, nearly spitting out her own sip of wine. "How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I'm your best friend, and if you'd gotten any, I'd have been the first to know about it." Michonne raised an eyebrow. "It's true. I know you." Carol sighed heavily.

"Well, I'm picky," she muttered.

"Face it, Carol. You've given up on men."

"I have not!" Carol insisted. "Just because I chose to take matters into my own hands doesn't mean I've given up on the idea of having a relationship with a man someday."

"You're the woman who, at thirty, decided she was unlovable and would never be wanted by any man. Face it, sweetie, after Ed, you were kind of a mess."

"You remember Ed, right?" Carol asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Um, let me see. Possessive, controlling asshole who was wandering into abusive territory? How could I forget that charmer?" Michonne rolled her eyes. "And the losers you dated on the rebound weren't much better. I can see why you thought your only option was getting a sperm donor." Carol looked around, seeing a few people look up from their meals, stare at her and then quickly go back to their food. "Now, don't get me wrong, I think having Soph and Sammy has done wonders for you, but Carol, you were thirty when you got pregnant, and…"

"Ok, you don't have to remind me," Carol pointed out. "I remember it all in excruciating detail. Every leg cramp, every craving, every contraction." Carol sighed heavily and took another drink of her wine. "Look, I wasn't desperate. I thought about it for a long time. I poured over hundreds of donor files. I stared at their pictures, and I actually tried to think about what kind of men they really were. What kind of man actually goes down to a sperm bank and willingly does…that…into a cup? There were doctors and lawyers and teachers. All kinds. Who did I want my kid to be? What did I want my kid to know about the guy that helped make them? I drove myself crazy, Mich. You remember."

"I remember," Michonne laughed. "And then you called me at four in the morning and told me you made your decision. Boom. Next thing I know, I was getting my hand bruised in the waiting room. I swear you're stronger than you look." Carol grinned at that.

"The point is, I wanted to be a mom, and I didn't want to just wait for the right guy to fall into my path. I didn't want to be that woman that waits and waits until the right time, only to find the right guy and find out she can't have kids, because she waited too long." Carol shrugged her shoulders. "My kids are my life, and I wouldn't trade them for the world."

"And you're an awesome mom, Carol. I swear, I don't know how you do it, but you do it. And you deserve to have somebody who can help you share the burden. I'm not saying the kids are a burden, but financially, emotionally? Sometimes it's nice not to have to do it alone."

"Easy for you to say. Mrs. Rick Grimes."

"Hey," Michonne pointed out, raising her eyebrows, "it's not as easy as it looks." Michonne giggled, and Carol smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, go and throw your amazing sex life in my face."

"Alright, look," Michonne sighed, "Rick's high school buddy is coming to town tonight. He lives up in New York."

"Oh great. Let me guess? He's crazy about Starbucks and hanging out in museums pretending he knows what every piece of art represents."

"Daryl?" Michonne snorted. "He's from Georgia, born and raised. He moved to New York when he got a really good job offer at a custom bike shop. He makes a shit ton of money, but he's just…Daryl."

"You've met him?" Carol asked.

"No. I've seen pictures of him and Rick back in school. He rocked the mullet, hard core." Carol grimaced. "But, Rick assures me the mullet days are long gone. Besides, Rick rocked the mullet, too. Those were the days, right?"

"God," Carol snorted.

"Look, Rick says Daryl's a really nice guy. He had a pretty bad upbringing, but he spent a lot of time with the Grimes'. He turned out to be a good guy, nothing like his older brother, who I'm pretty sure is in prison right now."

"This gets better and better," Carol groaned.

"Come on. Please, give the guy a chance. He's thinking of moving back here, soon, and he's in town for the weekend. Rick's with him right now."

Carol had to admit her friend was pushing pretty hard for this meeting to happen. "You really want me to meet this guy?"

"I don't think there's any harm in it. Get a babysitter. Get Tara! Oh, Tara's great with the kids."

"Tara taught Sammy how to burp the alphabet," Carol snorted.

"But you love her."

"Why do you always push babysitting off on Tara? She's not the only friend of mine capable of watching the kids. Hint, hint."

"Hey, I've got my own to deal with. You try raising a teenager, a toddler and a baby. Not easy." Carol smirked at her and shook her head.

"You really want this to happen, don't you?"

"Tara will be at your house at seven. Daryl will pick you up at seven fifteen." Michonne flashed her phone at Carol.

"You already told Tara I was going on a date?!"

"You have to say yes," Michonne said with a shit-eating grin.

"Fine," Carol said with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine. Yes."

...

"Perfect. I'll tell him. Alright. Love you. Bye." Rick Grimes had the biggest grin on his face, and the fact that he'd been talking to his wife on the phone for the last five minutes making plans for Daryl Dixon to go on a date with some woman he'd never met was giving Daryl the urge to knock his friend on his ass.

"Tell me what?" Daryl muttered, bending over the front of Rick's police cruiser, pulling the dip stick out. "Quart low." He proceeded to start doing Rick's oil change.

"You're picking your date up at seven fifteen tonight."

"God damn it," Daryl muttered. "Why the hell can't you tell your wife to stop meddlin' in other people's business?"

"It's Michonne's best friend. Carol's a lovely woman. She's a mom. She's your age. She's got a couple kids, and, don't you ever tell Michonne I said this, but she's gorgeous." Daryl poked his head up in interest. "I'm tellin' you, man, I met Carol before I met Michonne, and I swear to God, I could have fallen in love with her."

"Then why don't you take her out and leave me alone?"

"C'mon. How long's it been since you went out and had a good time with a woman?" Daryl muttered something unintelligible and snorted. "Yeah, yeah, I forgot. You don't date. Emotions get in the way of all the hot sex you aren't havin' right?"

"Fuck off," Daryl muttered. "Just don't have time for women, s'all."

"Which is why tonight is perfect. You're in town for the weekend, and you're just going to take her out and have a good time. Nothing wrong with that, right?" Daryl said nothing. He just worked on the car, and Rick sighed. "C'mon. Michonne's already got it all set up. Seriously. All you have to do is show up at her house and show her a good time."

"She knows I don't live here, right?"

"Michonne told her you were probably movin' back."

"That ain't a done deal, man."

"Woman with kids, she's gonna be lookin' for somethin' that…I ain't sure I got to offer."

"Christ, Daryl, you're not marrying the woman. It's a date. You know, that thing where two people go out for dinner? Talk? Maybe even some blind, hot sex with no strings attached at the end?" Daryl raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"What, you're married now, so you gotta enjoy life through all your single friends?" Daryl snorted. Rick chuckle and crossed his arms, leaning against his police cruiser.

"C'mon, man. Whaddya say? Just one date?"

Daryl sighed heavily and wiped his hands on his jeans, smudging them with oil.

"Fine. One date. And I swear to God, if she turns out to be some crazed stalker like that chick you set me up with senior year, you're gonna pay." Rick snorted at that and shook her head.

"I promise, man. Carol's great. Only thing you've got to worry about is falling on your face and tripping over your words when you see her."

"Michonne know about this little crush of yours?"

"Aw, shut up," Rick chuckled. "I love my wife. My wife's the most gorgeous woman I've ever met. She's got the patience of a saint to put up with Carl and to take on Judith when she's got Andre. Lori up and ran out on me, and…well, I just don't know what I'd do without her. Carol's her friend, and that makes her special to me. But she's beautiful, Daryl. She's a good person. Fun. Her live revolves around her kids and her work, but you get her talking, and you're gonna love her."

"Fine, I'll go," Daryl finally conceded. "Just give me her address and tell me what the hell I'm s'posed to wear."

"Shit, I know better than to get you in a suit. You're taking her out for a burger and then you're going to a bar to play pool."

"Your perfect, gorgeous, mom-friend goes to bars?"

"She can kick your ass around a pool table, too," Rick said with a nod. Daryl considered this for a moment. The idea was pretty intriguing, and though he absolutely loathed the idea of being set up on a blind date, the more Rick talked about Carol, the more interested he was in seeing her. Rick was a good buddy and rarely let him down. He just hoped that this Carol wasn't setting her hopes too high. The last thing he knew about was relationships, and he hadn't been in one for very long ever in his entire life.

"Fine," Daryl said with a chuckle. "What'd ya say her name is again?"

"Carol. Carol Morgan."

"Alright. Well, I sure hope Michonne told her not to expect some fancy dinner date, 'cause that ain't me."

"Trust me. That's not Carol, either," he promised. "Now, shut up and fix my car."

...

"Mommy, you look pretty," Sophia said with a grin as Carol ran her fingers through her short, graying hair. She'd put a little styling gel in it, so it spiked slightly all around. That, mixed with the hint of makeup she'd applied, looked pretty satisfactory. She wasn't much for makeup and spending too much time fussing in the mirror, but tonight, she was a little anxious, not certain what Rick had told his friend about her.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her shirt. It was a light blue top that she's tucked into her jeans. Michonne had strictly forbidden her from wearing the dreaded mom jeans that were tucked away in the closet. Instead, she'd insisted on a pair of low risers, which Carol normally abhorred. But with her shirt tucked in, she didn't feel so self-conscious. She topped off the ensemble with jacket that matched the jeans. Michonne had told her not to dress for anything fancy, and she hoped there'd been no miscommunication. The last thing she wanted was to answer the door and see a man standing there with flowers and a tux, when she was all dressed to go to a damned square dance.

"Mommy, Tara's here!" Sam called from downstairs. Carol felt like every nerve in her body had suddenly jumped to life, and her stomach was twisting into knots.

"I look ok?" Carol asked, doing a final turn in front of the mirror.

"Yep," Sophia said with a nod. "Can I wear some makeup too?"

"Not until you're much older," Carol replied, patting her daughter on the head. "And even then? We'll have to see." Sophia giggled and followed her mother out of the room and rushed ahead of her down the stairs. "Sophia, be careful! How many times do I have to tell you not to run down the stairs?"

"Sorry, Mommy!" Sophia called over her shoulder as she rushed to the door. She waited for her mother's permission to open the door, and when Carol gave her a little nod, she opened it, and Tara Chambler stood there with her book bag slung over one shoulder. Tara was considerably younger than Carol and Michonne. She was a senior at the university downtown, but she'd been a temp at Carol's office and had developed a pretty good relationship with her a few years back.

"Oh crap, you guys aren't in bed yet?" Tara teased, stepping into the house. Carol sighed, exasperated. "I mean, poop. Not crap. Don't say crap, kids." Sam giggled from the couch, and Sophia hurried over to join him there watching cartoons.

"Thanks for doing this," Carol said a bit glumly.

"Hey, what's with the sad face? C'mon, it's a date! It's not a funeral."

"I hate leaving them," Carol admitted.

"Seriously? Everything Michonne's told me about him is just…well, let's just say that if you don't make the walk of shame home tonight, I'll be so disappointed."

"Tara!" Carol hissed, face flushing with embarrassment.

"Seriously, he's a major hottie. If I swung that way, I'd be all over that." Tara winked, and Carol quirked an eyebrow.

"You've seen him?"

"Oh yeah." Tara lowered her voice. "Totally fuckable, you know, if you're into fucking guys, which, well, obviously, you are."

"Oh God," Carol groaned. "You did not just say that."

"I did, and I refuse to take it back."

"Let me see a picture."

"No! Do you not get the idea of a blind date? It's going to be love at first sight. I'm not going to take away from that moment when you both see each other for the first time and your hearts beat out of your chests all cartoon style. I'm totally booking the banquet hall down town for your spring wedding." Tara sighed dramatically.

"Oh stop. It's one date."

"Mmmhmm," Tara said with a nod. "And you're gonna love this guy. From what I've seen and heard, he's nothing like any of the guys you've dated. And, trust me, that's a great thing." Carol sighed and gave a conceding nod.

Tara made her way into the living room, getting comfy on the couch.

"There's money on the counter if you guys want pizza."

"I figure pizza, a few beers, that'll knock 'em right out." Carol narrowed her eyes at her friend. "You know I'm kidding, right?" Carol was beginning to pace now. "Calm down."

"Yeah, Mommy, calm down," Sophia urged. "It's just a date."

"You're just four," Carol pointed out. "What do you think a date is?" Sophia looked at Sam and then at Tara before looking back at her mother.

"Well, it's where the man pays for your food, and then you have to kiss him, because that's how you say thank you. And then you get married, and we all live in a castle and live happily ever after." Carol couldn't help but smile at her daughter's innocent imagination.

"Sweetie, if only life were that simple," Carol said with a sigh. And then the doorbell rang. Tara looked at the clock.

"Oh ,he's early! Very nice," she said with a wink. Carol took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "You're great. You look hot, and you're going to be you and be great, and everything will be fun."

"Stop talking now, please?" Carol requested as she nervously walked toward the door, her knees feeling like they were made of rubber. She reached for the doorknob, and she took a few shaky gulps of air. She expected to see the sex on legs that Tara had described. She expected to see a redneck wearing a shirt with cutoff sleeves and a bandana around his head. She honestly expected absolutely anything, but the last thing she expected when she opened the door was to stare right at the face she'd stared at five years ago when she'd made a very important decision. The last thing she expected was to be staring into the eyes of the father of her children.