A/N – I sprinkled a few easter eggs in this chapter. They're not too hard to find but you might need to look up some lyrics to appreciate my weird sense of humor.

Disclaimer – I own nothing but Stella, my potty mouth and my filthy imagination. All credit for Daryl and the brilliant series goes to AMC and Robert Kirkman. Anyway, I'm certainly not making any money off this, so nothing here for any legal ferrets to worry about.

Chapter Two

"Hey guys!" I looked up suddenly, glad to have a distraction because I had been about to go get a bucket of ice to drown the fantasy I'd been having about being sandwiched between Daryl and a tree. The one who'd called out was Carl, who had left with Sophia and Carol a bit earlier to check out the rec room Jenner had told us about. He was wheeling some kind of machine about the size of a concert speaker. Huge grins on their faces, Sophia and Carol followed him in. "It's a karaoke machine!"

Carol piped in then, "I checked out the song list! It has Carole King and Neil Diamond!"

Glenn jumped up and ran over. "I'm sooooo in!" He took over from Carl and wheeled the machine over to an outlet by the counter, plugged it in and started scrolling through the list of songs while everyone around the table started goading one another into taking the mike. I, however, started to chew my lip, mulling over three questions. Could I get up there and sing that song? Hell, yes. I was quite tipsy and feeling rather bold. I certainly felt comfortable around everyone, except Daryl that is… But yes. I could get up there and sing. And more than that, I wanted to. Next question. Would getting up there and singing my song make him remember, if he hadn't already? Well, if that didn't jog his memory, nothing would…

Last question. Should I do it? That was a tough one… Was it wise? What if I'd only imagined that Daryl was the owner of those eyes… What if he was, but singing that song did nothing to help him remember me… What if remembering me made him even more pissed off at me… What if I ended up making a fool of myself… Hold up, Stella… We're not doing this. Nope. That was the old me, always looking for an excuse to not call attention to myself, to not take any kind of risk. But I was braver, stronger and had trained myself to not obsess over what people thought of me. Anyway, six years ago, all the stars had aligned and pointed me to New Orleans and that stage. And right now, all the stars were aligned and pointing me to that karaoke machine. No question about it. Now that I knew that those blue eyes belonged to Daryl, I had to jog his memory. And singing that song was the best way to do it.

Glenn yelped loudly, "they have 'Smells Like Teen Spirit!' I call that one!"

Rick, ever the camp counselor, suggested that we each take a turn going through the catalog and write down our names and song selections, then we'd put the slips of paper in a bowl and draw them to determine the order. And so it went, everyone taking their turn at the screen, trying to find just the right song, while the ones waiting took turns telling karaoke stories, talked about their favorite songs to sing and, in the case of Daryl, made fun of people who sing karaoke. I made half-hearted attempts to join the conversation, but the back of my brain was consumed with my upcoming performance, so I was relieved when Rick finally drew the first name. Carol's song was predictable, Neil Diamond's 'Sweet Caroline,' and surprisingly loud, due I'm sure to the rum and coke she guzzled before taking her turn. She drew Lori, who sang Abba's 'Fernando.' Now, given some of my suspicions about Lori's relationship with Shane, I had to question the wisdom of her song choice because the look on her husband's best friend's face was… tense at best. I was relieved when Lori's song finally ended and she drew Jacquie's name, whose song, 'Only Heaven Can Wait for Love' by Roberta Flack, was a hard one to pull off. She sang it beautifully, though, despite seeming a bit detached. I made a mental note to check in with her tomorrow to see if there was anything wrong.

Dale's name was called next and he sang a stunningly good rendition of 'Time' by Pink Floyd, before taking the graceful bow of a man who knows he killed that song, acknowledging everyone's applause with a quietly confident smile. Dale drew Daryl, who just sat there smirking as the older man read his name and a G-rated version of his song title, " 'F' you, I Don't Sing." When Dale raised his eyebrow and demanded that he get up there and perform his selection, I was shocked, then laughed out loud when Daryl actually took the microphone and sang an off-key rendition of "Fuck you, I don't sing. And I never will. So fuuuuuuuck you all….." that sounded like the shortest Ramones song ever. Everyone was in hysterics, even Sophia and Carl, except for Lori, who spat out an exasperated, "Daryl! There are kids here…." Did that woman not realize that her kid had been exposed to the entire encyclopedia of curse words several times over since the world jumped into that handbasket and took a trip to hell? I gave in to the impulse to roll my eyes and didn't even bother trying to hide it.

Next up was Carl, who barely knew the song his mom had picked for him, so he just stood up there, fidgeting, shuffling his feet while he flubbed the words to 'Yesterday' by the Beatles. That was a good song and now Carl had tarnished it forever, through no fault of his own of course. Now T-Dog was up and, judging by the expression on his face as he took the mike, it was going to be amazing. And it was. The Charlie Daniels' Band's "The Devil Went Down to Georgia' never sounded so good. He made that song his own, sucking all of the redneck out of it with his resonant baritone and Prince swagger, leaving all of us laughing harder than we had in… well… a long fucking time. Glenn laughed the hardest, his face bright red, shoulders shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks, but managed to pull himself together because he was up next. His enthusiasm, coupled with a pretty good imitation of a coked-up Curt Cobain singing Nirvana's 'Smells Like Teen Spirit,' left all of us grinning and clapping.

And Rick's selection, well, I'd known the man for less than a week, but I would have made a boatload of money if I'd put a bet down on his song selection – John Cougar Mellancamp's "Little Pink Houses." And the fact that I guessed right… Well, it made me sad. For both the man and the new world we found ourselves trying to survive in. Shane was up next, shitfaced drunk and not even bothering to try to hide the pathetic looks he shot at Lori while he sang 'Separate Ways' by Journey. I wanted to wring the man's neck. What the fuck was he thinking, picking that song? If any of us weren't sure about the nature of Shane and Lori's relationship before Rick returned from the dead, well, we were now. The looks being exchanged around the table and the horrified expression on Lori's face only added fuel to a fire I tried like hell to tamp down by drawing Rick's attention with a fabricated story about the singer's childhood compulsion to hoard stray cats. I was so absorbed with trying to keep Rick's eyes on me and brooding over how the words to my own song might just send Shane over the edge, I didn't hear him call my name at first.

When I finally realized that I was up next, I drained the glass Dale had poured for me not five minutes before, took a deep breath as I walked to the head of the table and tried like hell to pull my shit together. This was it… Everyone was looking at me now, including Daryl, so I was locked into this. Fuck… He's the very reason I want to do this, but he's also the reason I'm not sure I'll be able to breathe, let alone sing… I took another deep breath. I can do this… It's only two and a half minutes. I've already been through more with these people over the last two weeks than anybody else in my past life. Half of them have seen me pee in the woods and the other half have saved my life at least once. I can do this…

I pressed the button to start Patsy Cline's 'Crazy' and as soon as the twinkling chords of the song unfolded, I noticed that Daryl's eyes narrowed, like he was expecting something but he wasn't sure he was going to like it... Was he trying to mess with my head? I had no choice but to close my eyes so I wouldn't freeze. I can do this…

"Crazy.

I'm crazy for feeling so lonely

I'm crazy

Crazy for so feeling so blue

I knew you'd love me as long as you wanted

And then some day

You'd leave me for somebody new."

Even with my eyes closed, I could feel him looking at me. I finally opened them halfway through the first verse and looked around the room. But really, the only thing I could see were Daryl's eyes, now free of any animosity. In fact, they were exactly like the ones that had stared at me six years ago – beautiful, intense and kind. And just like back then, they didn't look like they'd blinked, let alone moved from me since the song had started. When he saw my eyes move to his and lock into them, something flickered in there. Something to indicate that he knew he'd been caught watching me. And he didn't care. He wanted me to know.

"Worry

Why do I let myself worry?

Wondering

What in the world did I do?"

By the end of the second verse, I felt bold. No longer afraid to hold his gaze. In fact, I was daring him to go back to New Orleans with me. And by the expression on his face, he had the time machine gassed up and ready to go.

"Oh, crazy

For thinking that my love could hold you

I'm crazy for trying

And crazy for crying

And I'm crazy for loving you."

By the third verse, I wasn't registering any other person in that room. Nor was Daryl. Our eyes were having a conversation about missed opportunities, taking risks and second chances.

"Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you

I'm crazy for trying

And crazy for crying

And I'm crazy for loving

You."

By the time I sang the final verse, I didn't care about New Orleans anymore, didn't give a damn about why he'd stared at me, why he'd never approached me, or why he'd always acted like he was pissed off at me... I just wanted him.