I had never meant to take Daryl Dixon as my lover. After all, I had known the quiet redneck back before the world went to shit. Him and Merle. The oldest Dixon and I were like gasoline and matches. We burned bright, we burned hot, and then we burned out just as quickly.

I guess when you consider my past history with the brothers, it was no surprise that I would turn to Daryl after my husband was killed. I later found out that he had lost someone he loved once too. Maybe we bonded over that. Or maybe it was just the fact that he knew when he bent me over the nearest surface and fucked me, it didn't matter that he wasn't thinking about me, he knew I wasn't thinking of him either. We were complicated, but then the world is complicated now isn't it?

To simplify things, we came up with a set of rules that we agreed would always be followed. Jokingly we called them 5 simple rules to casual fucking in the zombie apocalypse. Sometimes the others from our group would hear us adding a new rule, and thinking it a joke would add one or two of their own. We always laughed, but if the rule was good enough, we added that one too.

Rule #1. Be as quiet as possible. On the outside this one seems pretty straightforward doesn't it? I mean you don't really want to alert zombies to your hiding spot and be caught - quite literally - with your pants down. But it also serves a deeper, darker purpose for us. If we don't talk, we don't have to worry about revealing who it is we are really thinking of. If we don't moan, we don't ruin the others fantasy with our real life voice. We can remain buried in the past.

Rule #2. It doesn't mean anything. Just because we have sex doesn't mean we have to have feelings for one another beyond that. And maybe friendship.

Rule #3 . It doesn't matter how many times we've fucked, or in what position. If someone says stop, it stops.

Rule #4 . We don't fuck anyone else. If we find we have feelings for another person, what is between us ends.

Rule #5. And this is perhaps, is our most important rule. We don't talk about them. Ever. The ones we loved before I mean. It won't change anything.

People always asked why we didn't have a rule regarding pregnancy. I mean that seems like a pretty important rule right? Well the answer was really quite simple. I had had my tubes tied years ago when my husband told me vehemently that he did not want children. Ever.

It's funny when I think about it now, how agreeable I was to not having children with him. I knew he wasn't the fatherly type. In fact, aside from me, I think his longest relationship had been with Jack Daniels. Not someone to have a child with. However, now, in moments of deep weakness I wonder how I would feel if I still had the option. Once I made the mistake of bringing this question up to Daryl. After he had laughed and reminded me the zombie apocalypse was no place to raise a child, he had then given me that infamous Dixon smirk and added, "And I rather like ya this way. Don't have to worry about pullin' out". I had laughed before he rolled us both over, sliding into me in a way that made my toes curl and my mind go blank.

I have to say Daryl is an attentive lover, skilled not only with his cock, but with his tongue and fingers as well. I've lost count the number of orgasms he has given me over the years, although I remember fondly the most in one night was five. Five mind-numbing, earth shattering orgasms. And in all the time that has passed since I lost my husband, and he lost his lover, there has never been anyone else. I don't try and reason out why that is.

My eyes open, bringing my back to the present as I take in the image reflected back to me in the full length mirror on the back of the door. I am naked, on all fours while Daryl plows into me from behind, his fingers gripping my hips in a way I know will leave bruises for days, his eyes shut as he thinks of her. As another orgasm is ripped from my body, I bite down hard on my lower lip to keep from breaking rule number one. Daryl quickly follows, filling me with his seed before collapsing against me, his lips leaving a hot trail of kisses down my back before he pulls out and falls to his side intent now to sleep. I wait until his eyes have closed, his breathing regular, before I dress quietly, brushing his hair back and tenderly kissing his forehead.

Of all the things I thought I would be doing in the apocalypse since my husband died, I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be here. In the Alexandria safe zone.

Fucking his baby brother.