The first time I kissed Daryl Dixon was... well, it wasn't pretty, now that I think about it. It was rough, and a little desperate, and it was beginning to look like more pain than pleasure before he pulled away, the shock on his face tinged with- well, more shock.

We were both breathing heavily, having just run the length of the town to lose the Walkers chasing us. After taking a few sharp turns and avoiding a couple more stragglers, we found our way into an old motel, forcing our way into one of the rooms. It was empty, save for overturned furniture and a heap of dust bunnies; but Daryl still did a quick sweep before settling by the window, eyes set on the street beyond.

I was crouched by the door we had just come through, two chakra held at the ready, the steel rings warming in my hands. I didn't have the vantage point my companion did, but I liked to think we'd been on enough runs by now that I could read his body language pretty well. Right now he didn't look too worried, which- considering it was Daryl, who could probably fight Chuck Norris and win- wasn't entirely reassuring.

"How many?"

"Too many. 'Reckon I could get a few from here, easy. But I don't have enough bolts left to get 'em all. We'll try to wait 'em out."

"And if that doesn't work?"

He gave a cursory glance around the room. "Bathroom window. We'll run again. Ain't got no choice."

"That's a double negative."

He rolled his eyes, just barely. "Don't get smart."

"Want me to get fresh instead?"

He ignored me. I knew he would. He always did when I tried to tease him. Of course, everyone else and their mother could riff with Dixon; he laughed and joked with the others, talked to them. But when I tried? Nothing. Nada. Just a fly on the wall. Or just a walker on the street, which there seemed to be more of than flies these days.

As I was thinking these (admittedly somewhat bitter) thoughts, Daryl was busy being the macho man he was, keeping vigil by the window. I could hear them all outside, groaning and shuffling along like extras in a Michael Jackson video. My companion remained tense, his body never moving. I wish I could have said the same for myself. I tried so heard to stay still; and when I began to feel the tickle in my sinuses, I moved the bare minimum in trying to stop the inevitable. It was useless.

"Achoo!"

I had this horrible habit of squeaking out my sneezes. It sounded like someone was goosing a kitten. My family use to make fun of me for it. But what was once an odd quirk was now potentially deadly.

"Damnit," Daryl cursed, somehow right next to me. "Couple are turnin' this way. Come on. Gotta move."

We passed into the bathroom, checking through the window to make sure no stragglers were waiting for us before Daryl gave me a boost, practically throwing me out of the small window. I still had to squeeze through, my breasts compressed almost painfully as I pulled through the frame. I got through, though, and dropped to the ground, weapons at the ready.

I expected Daryl to follow, and when his wildcat grace didn't bring him immediately down from the window, landing on his feet beside me, I feared the worst. I wasn't ready for what I saw when I looked back.

Daryl was stuck.

His arms- those beautiful, muscular testaments to brute strength- had finally worked against him. He couldn't fit through the window frame, grunting as he pulled back into the bathroom. I almost laughed out loud, right then. Which would have attracted even more Walkers than the one now making its way toward us.

"Walker..." Daryl growled, his face in the frame above me.

"I see him."

Quickly, the steel ring flew from my fingers, finding a new home in the now-dead-(again) undead. I retrieved it, wiping the gore on my pants, before turning back to Daryl.

"Problem, Dixon?"

"No," he spit out. I took his crossbow when he handed it to me, and he went back to struggling once more to squeeze his way out, arms stretched awkwardly before him. I watched, waited.

"What are ya waitin' for? Help me out."

I rolled my eyes. Again. "Yes, sir."

It was only after my hands were basically all over his torso, leveraging his body weight so that he could slip out of the room, that I realized how potentially awkward this could be. Of course, realizing the potential is what actualized the awkward. As more and more of his weight fell into my arms, now just his feet left to hook through the frame, I had to basically wrap my arms around him like he was a giant teddy bear.

That wasn't a good comparison, though. Nothing about Daryl was soft. Or squishy. He was kind of the opposite, actually.

With one final grunt, he was on the ground and away from me. Grabbing his bow, he went right back to business, checking the area, looking for Walkers. I took one personal moment to mourn the loss of how good he had felt under my hands before I, too, turned my mind back to work.

"We gotta circle 'round. Long way. Get back to the bike so we can get the hell outta here."

This time my muttered "Yes, sir," was somewhat sincere. I doubted he could tell.

I followed him as he lead me through more alleys and past small groups of the dead. We eventually made it back in view of his beloved motorcycle. After making a quick double-check of our surroundings, we got on, prepping to leave.

The run had been a total failure. The pharmacy was already empty. The emergency clinic was wrecked. The whole town was looted long ago. At least we could cross it off the map now, though. One less question mark in the new world.

We rode for a few miles before we came to bridge, and Daryl pulled the bike to the side and turning it off. Dismounting, he made his way down to the water.

"Where are you going?"

"Thirsty. You comin'?"

He strolled casually enough; but I knew he was alert to everything around him. I dismounted, keeping a few paces behind. I watched as he crouched down by the gently running water, scooping some into his hands. Seeing his arms come out in front of him like that of course reminded me of what had transpired not an hour before, and this time I didn't try to hide my laugh (though I did keep it quiet, which was habit by now).

When he turned to look at me, he looked thoroughly confused. "What're ya laughin' at?"

The grin on my face was broad. "I still can't get over seeing you stuck in that window."

He scowled and turned back to the water, drinking again. "Ain't my fault the things are so damn small."

"It is your fault your arms are so damn big, though."

He huffed, not knowing how to respond. A new glint was in his eye, though, as he stood and turned to me. "Never woulda had to go through there anyways if ya hadn't sneezed. What the hell was that? 'Achoo!'" he mimicked. "Ya sounded like a baby goat."

I flushed a little, though I knew it was something I couldn't really help. "Spend a lot of time around goats, do you?" was all I could think of to respond.

"Well you've been bleatin' at me all day."

"Jerk."

"Brat."

I was still smiling. Hadn't stopped, actually. Daryl and I were actually bantering. If I was twelve and had a diary, this would definitely be exciting enough to take up at least three pages. Probably with a scented pen.

We locked eyes for a moment before both chuckling, the tension and stress of the day slowly dissipating. The way was almost over and we still had an hour before we'd be back at home base.

"Alright. We should head out. Got a ways to go."

He moved to walk past me, and suddenly all I could think about was helping him out of the window: his chest, and his arms, and how absolutely good it felt. And then, just now, when he was laughing- actually laughing, and smiling. With ME. I legitimately thought, until this afternoon, that I annoyed him by my mere existence. Considering that, it was kind of a big jump to my next action. But hey- if you're gonna stop giving a shit and grow some balls, might as well be during the apocalypse, right?

So when Daryl was right next to me, I turned and grabbed the collar of his (of course) sleeveless shirt in my fists and pulled his face down to mine. Turns out I pulled a little too hard as his mouth literally slammed onto mine. It hurt more than they said it would in all those romance stories I used to read, but I kept at it, pressing my lips insistently against his. That was, until he came to his senses.

His own hands came up to my face (first thought: YES YES YES), which he quickly pushed away from his own (second thought: shit). My eyes, which had opened after that first full-contact tackle, saw the total surprise on his face. His eyes were wider than I had ever seen them, the metallic cerulean gleaming. A light breeze ruffled his dark locks. His mouth hung open, just a little, giving me a small glimpse of the pink tongue within.

I decided to cut him some slack. "So that just happened..."

His eyes immediately narrowed again, mouth closed. Even the breeze stopped. "What the hell was that?" His voice sounded deceptively normal for Daryl (aka, kind of angry).

"A kiss. Almost. It's been awhile. I'm a little rusty."

"Why?"

"I wanted to...?"

He huffed, then seemed to realize his hands were still on my face. He quickly dropped them and stepped away from me.

"Want me to apologize?"

The look he gave me was accompanied by a grimace.

"Well, I won't. I regret nothing."

It was true. No regrets. Actually, yes, one regret. I wish I had gripped his arms instead of his collar. Who knew when I would get THAT opportunity again? Probably never...

Daryl turned away from me, looking out at the water. I continued to ramble.

"I know, I know. I probably sound like a brazen hussy. I mean, it's the apocalypse or whatever this is- who has time for kissing, right? But hey! It's the apocalypse. Carpe diem and all that. If it's not getting done now, it's just not gonna get done. So I... got it done... or something. Actually, I really didn't, now that I think about it. But hey, we can try again if you want," I tried to tease.

His only response was that he shifted his weight.

"Fuck it. Let's just go, okay? No need to rub it in. I get it."

This finally seemed to stir him to action as he brushed by me and moved toward the bike, getting on silently and waiting for me to sit behind him. Being so close was kind of awkward now, but I forced myself to not care.

I kissed him. I kissed Daryl Dixon. And, I mean, it wasn't the best kiss ever. It was actually pretty crap. But come on! We just ran for our lives, he finally talked to me like a peer, I was pretty desperate to touch him in at least SOME way. It was a big rush of emotion and very spur of the moment. Still, though. I did it. And I'd do it again.

He kick started the engine and I muttered one last thing before the sound drowned out our communication.

"Still don't regret it."

So that was the first time I kissed Daryl Dixon. It was memorable. Definitely not in the way first kisses usually are... but still. Memorable. Still don't regret it. Never will.

It's hard to think of that kiss, though, without thinking of the first time Daryl Dixon kissed me. I mean. THAT... That was what a first kiss should be like. At least, what one with Daryl Dixon should be like. I didn't even have to wait for it very long, not after my failure of an attempt.

We had finally made it back to the old apartment complex the group was currently hiding out in. Daryl took the bike to the back of the building, where the other cars were, before turning off the engine and dismounting. I followed, not really expecting him to say anything about the kiss. If I was being honest, I didn't know what he could say. Maybe silence was best...

I was distracted, checking my pockets to make sure I hadn't dropped anything during the ride. I didn't see Daryl cast his gaze around, making sure we were alone. I didn't see him smirk and turn to me. But I did feel him grab my elbow. I did feel the brick building through the back of my shirt. I did feel his lips against mine.

And oh... it was... were there words for this?

One of his hands was cradling the back of my head, his pinky tickling the hairs at the nape of my neck, careful to not let my head hit the wall. The other was resting on my hip, pulling me against him even as he pushed me against the brick. His tongue was tracing my lips, slipping in between them, seeking my own tongue to play with.

My body was getting hot. I didn't know what to focus on. Daryl was everywhere, taking up all my senses. He leaned into me and my hands went to his torso, nails gently scraping down the fabric of his shirt until they settling at his hips. My fingers quickly found the skin right above the waistband of his jeans, resting there, just under the hem of his shirt, as I pulled him closer.

Judging by how warm his skin felt, my fingers must have been cold. As soon as I touched him there, he let out a little hiss. The hand that had been at my hip slid down... down... He bent, just a little, taking my head with him, so he could hook his hand under my knee, bringing it around his waist and pushing into me even more as he held it there.

This... this was by far the best kiss I'd ever had. It was so... thorough. Daryl left nothing unaccounted for: hands, everywhere; lips, demanding; tongue, seductive; hips, grinding.

My hands slid up from his waist slowly, up around his throat, gently brushing the stubble along his jaw as I moved them behind his shoulders to curl my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. I gently massaged his scalp, fingers kneading around the fine, dark hair. He sighed when I did, sounding oddly content, a satisfied, half-groan-half-hum tickling me through our still-joined lips.

His movements, at first so demanding and strong, had slowed considerably. His tongue, giving one last flick to my own, gently withdrew. The hand at my neck moved to my hip. The other still held my knee.

My breathing was somehow shallow and heavy at the same time. My fingers were still playing with his hair. Slowly, I opened my eyes, taking him in.

His lips were pink. I'd never seen his eyes look so bright as they danced around my face, a small smile taking over those pink lips. Slowly, eyes still open, he dipped his head and kissed me one, twice more, lingering as he pulled away.

I wanted to say something profound of romantic or at least complimentary (perhaps suggesting he start going by Daryl "Damn Fine Kisser" Dixon, because hey. It was true.), but all that came out was a pathetic, breathy, "what?"

He chuckled and pecked me once more on the lips, slowly releasing my knee. I'm sure he thought it would help me stand or something practical like that. But I'm pretty sure I would need that wall behind me for at least another three minutes.

"Carpe diem, right?" he said around a smirk, pulling away even more.

I resisted whimpering, feeling suddenly cold without him pushed against me.

"Right. Carpe diem."

Well, hell. I knew what I meant when I had said it earlier; but how does he mean it now?

He glanced around, making sure we were still alone. His smirk grew more proud, probably from seeing how dazed I still was. As he turned to go inside, I stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

He quirked a brow, halfway through the door already. "Inside?"

"It's still Diem, mister. Let's get with the Carpe."

He laughed outright at that. I was being serious, though. "Easy there, Tiger. Can't have ya gettin' used to it." I narrowed my eyes. If I hadn't been looking right at him, I would have missed the wink. "Ya might start gettin' spoiled."

I huffed. "Jerk."

"Brat," was his immediate response. "Try not to miss me too much, huh?"

"Yes, sir," was my insincere response. He mimed kissing the air, smirk firmly in place as he turned to shut the door behind him. I could still hear him chuckling to himself.

I was still leaning against the wall. I judged that I had another minute before I'd safely be able to walk on my own.

Stupid Dixon. Stupid great kisser. Stupid leaving after kissing me like that. Don't get used to it? Spoiled? What? What does that man want? This morning I thought I annoyed him. This afternoon we... I dunno. "Bonded." Just now, he totally ravished me and yep- I welcomed it.

It definitely escalated quickly.

Spoiled, my ass. If he wasn't planning on kissing me like that basically all the time, I guess I would just have to fine ways to make him. I won't try to hide it: I'm already spoiled.

I sighed to myself, gently stepping away from the brick. Getting my way (aka, having my way) with Daryl would be a challenge, definitely. But if that kiss was any indication, he was definitely up for that challenge.

And hell if I wasn't planning more opportunities to make up for the two I had already missed. I WOULD one day grip those biceps. I could feel it in my heart, and one day... I'd feel them in my hands.

A/N Haha... so yeah. Felt a little inspired. Just started watching the show maybe four days ago? And I'm all caught up. Saw the new episode and everything. Don't know what to do with myself for now. So this is just a one shot to release some of my Daryl-love tension. I've written FF before, but it's been a loooong time.

I might add more to it if I can think of anything, maybe more one shots with the same character (she doesn't really have a name yet), maybe add her to some scenes from the show. We'll see. If you want more, ask for it, and I'll see what I can do.