Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: I felt like it would be interesting to explore what happened after the party in 5x13. This is my attempt to do a 'missing scene' version of what could have been.
Warnings: Spoilers for 5x13 *Contains: adult language, adult content, references to Caryl as an established relationship, domestics, threatening language used towards a minor, light strip-teasing on Carol's part and some good old fashioned nakedness.
Old School Fairy-tales (ain't exactly kid-friendly)
"Where will I be?"
"You'll be outside the walls. Far, far away. Tied to a tree. And you'll scream and scream because you'll be so afraid. No one will come to help. Because no one will hear you. Well, something will hear you. The monsters will come. The ones out there. And you won't be able to run away when they come for you. And they will tear you apart and eat you up all while you're still alive. All while you can still feel it. And then afterwards no one will ever know what happened to you. Or… you can promise not to ever tell anyone what you saw here. And then, nothing will happen. And you'll get cookies. Lots of cookies. …I know what I think you should do."
"You said what?" he grunted, half-surprised, half-impressed as he watched her shimmy out of her mom jeans. Pausing at the foot of the bed as the shadowed curve of her turned towards him. He had about five seconds to admire the way her figure was silhouetted in the half-dark before she was movin' again, crossing in front of the open window as bare feet shuffled across the carpet.
"Well god, Daryl. What else was I supposed to say? He caught me red-handed. Poor thing just wanted cookies. Absolutely guileless too, told me right there that he'd have to tell his mother because he 'tells her everything.' It was either scare him quiet or kiss this place goodbye as far as all of us staying," Carol returned with a sigh.
He tempered down the words he had half a mind to say. Wondering if that was what she and Rick really wanted when everything was said and done. To stay? To at least try and make it work Deanna's way? He'd been right along with 'em up until today. But now? Well, now he wasn't so sure.
He wanted to try.
Wasn't that what Aaron had said?
It was a 'thought that counted' type of thing.
But for some reason he couldn't let the words go. Instead he just snorted, shaking his head as he star-fished across the mattress - stretchin'.
"Poor kid had the fear god put in him, alright. Probably not a bad idea anyway. Sneakin' around on his own at night ain't smart. Even here."
"But that's the whole point, you know," Carol murmured, shrugging out of her sweater and tossing it carelessly into the laundry bin beside the door. "Why we needed those guns. The people here seem to be exactly what they appear. But they've gotten too complacent. They don't know what it's like – what the world out there can do. They've been behind these walls for too long."
"Ain't gonna argue with you there," he returned, rubbing at his face and propping himself up on his elbows to better enjoy the show as she started unbuttoning her blouse. The subtle intimacy of it making his toes curl - prick perking up against his thigh in clear interest.
"But I don't think they're weak, least not all of 'em."
"No, not all of them," Carol replied carefully, painting a pretty little picture as her arms drifted down to her sides, angling the slightest of bits as she let the shirt slip off in slow motion, pooling around her ankles as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Fingers itching to touch.
"Where did you go anyway? I didn't see you at the party, least not before I left," she asked idly, thumbs hitching in the waistband of her panties as she eased them down – in increments.
Oh, now that was just not fuckin' fair!
"Be'in neighborly," he returned, far more interested in the progress of the sheer fabric and how the moonlight kept getting caught in the v of her legs. Highlighting the center of her like the fuckin' universe itself was putting her on a god damned pedestal.
"Brr…" she commented, hugging herself when the thin little scrap finally went the way of the shirt and pants that'd come before it. Bare thighs rubbin' together with an audible rasp of skin on skin.
"Co'mon, it ain't getting any warmer out there," he muttered, twitchin' aside the blankets before he paused, inspiration slow-cooking in the back of his brain before the corner of his lip curled upwards. "…Cookie monster."
The light nipple twist ended up being worth it, when she clambered on top of him. Huffing with laughter as she batted at him playfully, eventually letting him roll them into the sheets as she clung fast to his side. All cold toes and stronger than she looked as clever little hands tickled across his belly. Following the shuddering curve until he gave up and let her have it.
"When this is all over, just promise me one thing," he rasped, waitin' until he felt her cock her head in silent question. Letting the muted air build as he struggled against the natural urge to just leave it there – to end it before the words could hurt him - before he forced himself past it.
"We get to burn that fuckin' sweater."
Her laugh was like spring. Reminding him of all the things that had been unearthed – salvaged – when the world had gone tit up on all of 'em.
"If you think you're first in line, you have a whole 'nother thing coming, Mr. Dixon," she replied, sleepily flippant before she snuggled close. Her yawn sparking off his own as he sank a couple inches deeper into his pillow.
Unable to shake the realization that part of him was ready to call this place home.
A/N #1: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think! Reviews and constructive critiquing are love! – This story is now complete.
Reference: Big thank you to gunslingerdixon for the character dialogue.