Hello ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to my first Walking Dead fanfiction...I'm a little nervous posting this, seeing as it's been over a year since I've posted anything.

Yeah, I'm one of those authors that the idea bunnies like to run away from before I can get it down on paper (Or, in a word doc, if you will)

So far, it seems my little Walking Dead bunny is sticking with me, luckily. I've already got about 9 1/4 chapters of this little bad boy written out on my computer, so I'm feeling pretty good about this so far...

Now, as a warning before you guys go reading this and getting all outta sorts, some of the characters (Or all for I know) may or may not be OOC. I've tried to stick with their character's to the best of my abilities, but as a general warning, they may be out of character; and if that's something that bother's you, that's okay. I'm not holding a gun to anybodies head to get them to read this, after all.

Also, the story is not gonna following the show exactly to canon. All of the major things will still happen, of course, but my timeline isn't exact and I know some things are missing; please note I was writing this all from memory when I started the story because I didn't own the seasons, I'd watched them on netflix at my brothers house when the bunny struck. Which, I now own the seasons, but I refused to go back and change the structure of a story I was already 5 chapters into writing lol

Okay, I'm rambling, which is probably turning you guys off of the story and making me look like an ass, so, without farther ado...

Enjoy...

...

Wiping away the sweat that was dripping into her eyes, with the back of her wrist, Grace blew out a breath between her lips as she continued to scrub at the tattered jeans in her hands. She longed to forget the task at hand and dive into the cool water of the lake that was located at her fingertips, but alas, she'd been assigned to washing clothes for the day, and she still had a sizable pile resting beside her form.

"You done with those yet, Grimes?"

Grace gritted her teeth at the rough drawl of her name, scrubbing furiously at the material in her hands as she spit out a reply-

"You got nothin' better to do, than come done here and bother me, Dixon?"

Daryl scoffed, stepping into her line of vision and dropping a tattered button-down shirt, caked in dirt and blood, into the clothes pile. "Wash that next, will ya? It's my lucky shirt."

"Lucky?" She snorted, rinsing the jeans in her hands before laying them aside to dry, fighting an eye-roll as she picked up Daryl's shirt, dipping it into the water to soak. "If it was lucky, a walker would've gotten you by now,"

"Ouch, princess! Feelin' feisty today, huh?" Daryl winced, reaching up to cover his heart with his hand, a fake look of hurt gracing his features for a moment before he took a step closer; crouching down beside of her and brushing a lock of dark hair out of her face. "How 'bout we take that mood of yours up to my tent…See how feisty you can really get?" He flirted.

This time, Grace didn't resist the urge; rolling her eyes and reaching up to push away Daryl's hand, a look of pure annoyance on her face. "I would rather get eaten by a walker."

She knew he was joking; of course, she doubted Daryl would actually take her even if she wanted him too. Sexual innuendos had become a staple in their relationship, providing them both with a bit of humor to light up the otherwise dark days.

Daryl's answering laugh echoed around the quarry, only stopping when Grace reached over and shoved his shoulder, causing him to become unbalanced and tip over onto his behind. Now, it was her turn to laugh.

"Knock if off you two! And get back to work, Grace, or so help me-" A voice broke through Grace's laughter, instantly souring her mood.

"Oh shut up Ed, if you lay a hand on me, I'll shoot you in the balls with Dixon's crossbow," She threatened; sending the large, profusely sweating man a glare that Daryl never wanted directed at him.

"I have half a mind to come over there and put you in your place, you little bitch!" Ed spat, heaving himself up from the tailgate he was using as he resting place.

Grace was pushing herself up from her crouch, ready to face Ed's wrath, when Daryl pushed her behind him, creating a wall between her and the seething man.

"You even think about laying a hand on her, you and me are gonna have problems." Daryl growled, squaring his shoulders, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Understand me?"

Ed glared, nostrils flaring when he realized Daryl wasn't backing down. "Dumb bitch ain't worth it anyway," He spat before turning and walking back to the station wagon, his ass plopping back onto the edge, anger rolling off of him in waves as he glared at the pair.

Grace rolled her eyes, turning away from him and crouching down at the water edge once again, lifting his shirt out of the water to begin scrubbing it. "I had it handled, Dixon,"

"A 'thank you' would suffice,"

Grace could feel his eyes on her back as she worked, and couldn't help but take comfort in him watching out for her. Don't get it wrong, Grace is a big girl, she can handle herself. She'd done nothing but take care of herself, and her family, since shit had hit the fan; but knowing that Daryl was willing to step up and protect her whether it was needed or not, warmed her to the bone.

As much as it pained her to admit it, Daryl Dixon had become her best friend during all of this. Sure, he annoyed the hell out of her, but he was also one of the few people who could bring a smile to her face, who could make her laugh…Make her feel safe again…Well, as safe as she could feel in a world full of walkers, who would take any and all chances to kill them.

Darting her tongue out to wet her lips, she dragged the shirt across the washboard, dirt and blood turning the water around it a dark shade of brown. She cleared her throat before speaking two words that brought a smile to Daryl's face.

"Thank you"

…

"Aunt Grace! Aunt Grace!"

Grace looked up from her task of handing out the clothes she washed, smiling when she saw her nephew, Carl, rushing over to her with an excited grin.

Despite the fact that the young boy had lost his father, Carl was always happy. The only time he didn't have a smile on his face, was when the all to familiar cries of walkers broke through the camp…

Supposedly lost, Grace didn't believe for one second that her older brother was actually dead; there was no way Rick would haven given up that easily. There was no way. Rick was as stubborn as they come, and he would fight to the death to get back to his family.

Quickly plastering a smile on her face as her nephew grew closer as not to upset him, Grace called out a happy-

"What's up, bud?"

Carl was two seconds short from jumping up and down in excitement, holding out his cupped hands to his Aunt, showing her the small lizard in his palms. "Look! I found it next to the camp fire!"

"Very cool," She ruffed his hair, leaning down to drop a kiss on the top of his head, wincing slightly when his excited bouncing caused his head to hit her nose hard enough to cause a ting of pain.

"Think mom will let me keep it?"

"Why don't you go asked?" Nodding to her sister in-law, Lori, who was currently gathering firewood into a pile next to the fire pits. Carl grinned, his hands curling around the lizard gently to prevent it from falling as he took off over to his mother.

Grace laughed softly, shaking her head as she heard his excited cries to his mother. Continuing to return the items in her hands to the owners, she realized she was done to the last piece of clothing, Daryl's shirt.

She may or may not have intentionally taken longer to clean it, so Daryl would get tired of waiting and leave her in piece to go "Shoot something", as he so kindly called over his shoulder as he stalked away.

But, that also meant she had to return the item to him, instead of his normal routine of grabbing it as soon as it was washed, stalking off with it clenched in his fist and dripping wet.

Letting a sigh, Grace used the back of her wrist to wipe at the sweat on her forehead, turning to the older woman beside her, asking Carol if she'd seen Daryl recently.

"Last time I saw him, he was headed to his tent…" She shrugged, carefully folding the bundle of clothes in her arms; a smile playing over her lips as she once again thanked Grace for the freshly washed clothes.

Replying that it was no problem, that she didn't mind at all, which may or may not have been truthful; because let's face it, everyone hated being assigned to laundry, she bid Carol goodbye; starting her trek to find one Daryl Dixon.

…

"Dixon, you in there?"

Hearing no answer from inside the tent, and deciding against waiting for him to come back, Grace unzipped the flap and pushed it aside, poking her head inside of the tent before entering.

Dropping the shirt on top of a pile of what she assumed was clean clothes; she runs her hands over her face, grimacing at the sticky feeling on her skin. She hated the heat. Though, it did feel slightly cooler in Daryl's tent, the shade from the trees surrounding the structure providing some comfort from the scorching heat.

Blowing out a breath between her teeth, Grace stepped farther into the tent, dropping down to sit on the edge of Daryl's cot, her head hanging down between her knees as she wiped her hand across the back of her neck, once again wishing she could take a dip in the cool water of the lake.

Minutes passed, and Grace felt herself beginning to feel the all too familiar pull of exhaustion setting in. The group had been running themselves ragged the past few days. They were down a few people since some of the group had left for the city, volunteering to find supplies to bring back to camp.

Stifling a yawn, she felt her eyes beginning to slip shut, her muscles relaxing as she let herself get pulled closer and closer to sleep…

"Well, I'll be damned…Finally decided I'm better than a walker, Grimes?"

The sound of Daryl's voice startled her, and she instinctively reached for the gun in her waistband, drawling it and leveling it his head before her sleep addled brain caught up with her actions.

"Whoa, easy there, princess," Daryl laughed, holding up his hands in surrender as she lowered the gun, placing it back in the waistband of her jeans.

"Jesus, Dixon, you scared the shit out of me," She breathed, reaching up to rub the exhaustion from her eyes, holding back the yawn that threatened to slip out.

"You're in my tent, princess…What the hell are you doing in here, anyway?"

Motioning to the pile of clothes, Grace pointed out his freshly washed shirt. "Returning that, since you so kindly decided to go 'shoot stuff' before I was done with it."

He nodding, he let out a grunt in understanding, his eyes drifting back to her when she tried to hide another yawn. "Why don't you go get some rest or something?"

"Can't, got more work to do," She sighed, pushing herself up to stand from her spot on his cot, stretching her arms over her arms over her head as she finally let herself yawn.

"You look like shit." He pointed out, causing Grace to snort as he motioned to the thick layer of dirt covering her skin, and the dark bags under her eyes.

Raising her eyebrows, Grace gestured to the similar state that he was in, although he had a spatter of blood down the front of his shirt, from this mornings hunting trip, no doubt. "You're not looking so hot yourself, Dixon"

Looking down at himself, he frowned slightly before looking back up at Grace; humor playing over his features. "What are you talkin' about? This is my best look!"

Daryl couldn't help but smile, just a little, at the burst of laughter his comment had pulled from Grace. There was nothing that he enjoyed more than seeing her smile, hearing her laugh…Hell, if he would actually admit it to himself, he could say that he just enjoyed being around her…Could maybe say that he found her extremely attractive…But, no, Daryl wasn't into all of the mushy things that came along with having those feelings. So, he did the only thing he knew to do, pretend he felt nothing other than friendship for Grace...Although, being around her was making it increasingly difficult.

"I better go…I gotta get back to work," Grace sighed, gathering her long, dark, hair off of the back of her neck with her hand; grimacing at the lines of sweat that trailed down her back.

"Here, use this…"

Grace raised her eyebrow at the length of cordage Daryl was holding in his outstretched hand, muttering a soft 'thanks' as she took it from him, using it to tie her hair into a bun, knotting it loosely so she could remove it later. Walking over to the entrance of the tent, she paused, looking over her shoulder at Daryl for a moment, before stepping out of the tent. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later…"

…

"Hey darlin', you need some help?"

"Fuck off, Shane." Heaving the laundry basket onto her hip, Grace sent the man a withering glare.

Shane Walsh was her brother's partner at the sheriff's department, and liked to think he was god's gift to women. And Grace hated him with every fiber of her being.

After he so kindly informed Grace and her family that her brother was 'dead', Shane had followed her into her tent, offering her his comfort in the form of sex. Grace had nearly torn his eyes out when he'd made the offer, yet, to this day, he still tried to push himself on her.

Grace would never take him up on it. She'd rather have sex with a walker than let Shane touch her. Though she couldn't say the same about her sister in-law. She knew Lori was sleeping with Shane; she'd nearly walked in on them once.

And yet, here Shane was, still trying to get into her pants.

"Aw, C'mon darlin', I'm just tryin' to help you out," He drawled, taking a step towards her and reaching for the basket.

"Fuck off, Shane." She growled, wrenching the basket, and herself, out of his reach. "I don't want your help; I don't need your help. So, back the fuck off."

"I'm tryin' to help you out, Gracie. Why don't you show a little respect?" He glared, reaching out a wrapping his fingers around her bicep. Grace saw red the moment his flesh touched her own.

"Don't you dare call me that, you son of a bitch! The day I show you respect is the day hell freezes over," Ripping her arm out of his grasp, she shoved him backward, causing him to stumble before regaining his foot. "Don't you have a married woman to fuck, Shane?" She spat over her shoulder, gripping the laundry basket tight as she made her way up the hill to camp.

…

"Hey, Carl, look at me. It's okay, baby, its okay…"

Grace swallowed against the lump in her throat as she heard Lori trying to comfort her crying son. The missing members of their group had returned; cries of joy filling the camp as families were reunited.

"How'd you guys get outta there?!"

"Thank the new guy, he saved us!" Morales grinned, hugging his wife and kids to his chest.

"New guy?" Grace's brow furrowed, arms folding across her chest. "Where is he?"

"He's in the truck…Hey sheriff! Get out here!"

The door of the truck opened, and Grace felt her world shift on its axis, blocking out everything around her. Carl's sorrowful cries, the joyful screams of families reunited. It all fell away. Her vision tunneled, and a cry of name spilling from her lips as she took of running.

"Rick!"

...

And that's that for the time being...Let me know what you guys think; but please, no flames.

Until next time!

-Dasiygirl95