They made their way slowly back to the car with their treasures. Setting into his seat, Daryl popped open the glove box. The first thing that caught his attention was the shiny red flashlight. He grasped it in his right hand and flipped the switch.

"Ah, dammit! Batteries are dead. What else we got here?" His face lit up when he spotted the stack of compact discs.

"Eagles! Hell, yeah!"

"That'll work," Carol agreed as he pushed the disc into the slot on the dashboard. They headed out on the road in search of the perfect spot.

"How 'bout there?" Daryl pointed to the right. "Looks good."

"You got a death wish?!"

"Why?"

"Look how steep it is—and with all those trees."

"All right, all right," he conceded. "You pick the spot, ace."

The sounds of the Eagles played quietly as they drove.

And the hours go by like minutes

And the shadows come to stay

So you take a little something to make them go away

And I could have done so many things, Baby, if I could only stop my mind

From wondering what I left behind

And from worrying about this wasted time

She rolled to a stop about a mile farther down the road and cut the engine. She stared wordlessly at her companion.

"Yeah, it's better," he grudgingly admitted.

"Bundle up, Pookie," she teased. "It's nippy out."

He stared back at her for the briefest of moments before becoming self-conscious. It always made him feel so special when she flirted with him like that. It was flirting, wasn't it? Recent events made him consider the possibility that he was misinterpreting something else for romantic interest. But it just felt so natural. So right.

"Let's do this," he mumbled as he retreated from the situation. Dammit, Dumbass! Why you such a coward? Just man up and ask her what she means when she does that.

He carried his sled halfway up the slope, slipping and swearing several times as he went.

"Son of a bitch, this shit is slippery!"

"You're cute when you're wobbly," Carol called out cheerfully from behind him.

"Shut up." He turned to her and motioned toward a clear area. "Why don't you pop that Shellraiser down right here and we'll see what you're made of."

"You first."

Daryl laid his sled on the fresh powder and lowered himself onto it, being careful not to accidentally launch it before he was ready. It wouldn't do to wipe out on his very first run. What he encountered, however, was something he hadn't anticipated: the sled didn't move at all. A firm shove from Carol's boot solved the problem and soon he was careening down the hill. The ride was short, but more fun than he'd ever had at the county fair. He remembered excitedly carrying those mats up a zillion stairs to the top of the Super Racer slide, only to be disappointed every time. It was just never fast enough. The kid in the next track always beat him.

He looked back at his companion. She had positioned her sled and was studying the decorative pattern.

"Looks like I'm sitting with Donatello."

"Turn it around," Daryl advised, "Raphael is better. He'll protect you."

"Who says I need protection? Here goes nothing!"

With a delighted laugh, Carol slid to a stop nearby. All he could see through the layers of warm clothing were her eyes, but still he knew she was smiling. She had the most amazing eyes—they truly sparkled when she smiled. It was a vision he could never get enough of, that sparkle.

"Race ya!" He shouted as he picked up his sled. No way the kid in the next lane was beating him this time.

He had scarcely begun the hike back up the hill when a snowball landed squarely between his shoulder blades.

"What the hell?!" He scooped up a handful and formed it into a ball. By the time he hurled it, she had ducked behind a tree and the snowball shattered harmlessly upon impact with the trunk.

"Coward!" He yelled playfully.

"All's fair in love and war!" She shot back, laughing.

"Which one's this?" Immediately, he dreaded the answer and regretted the question. To his relief, she ignored it. "You're just too chicken to race me."

"What do I get if I win?" She appeared from behind the tree and retrieved her sled.

They trudged to the top and readied for their race.

"How 'bout this?" Daryl began. "Winner gets to ask the loser one question, and they gotta answer it."

Hmm, one question, Carol considered for a moment. There were things that he could ask that she would not be comfortable answering. But then, those were probably the ones she needed to answer. Or he may ask her something innocuous. And, not to be glossed over was the fact that she may win. She could think of any number of things she would like to ask him.

"You're on."

"Ready, set, go!"

They skidded down the hill recklessly, with Daryl taking an early lead and Carol quickly catching up to him. Coming to a stop at the bottom, they stared at one another.

"Photo finish," Carol declared.

"You take the photo?"

"Call it a draw?"

"We need a winner. There's a lot at stake."

"How about," she suggested after some thought, "we both win."

"Pffft. Hell's that gonna work?"

"We each get to ask a question."

He considered the proposal as he headed back up the hill. His question was set, but he didn't know if he was prepared for hers. What might she ask? Well, whatever it was he would answer it honestly. He'd never lied to her yet…well, except that one time, but that was a mercy lie. And lies of omission didn't count, right? He hoped not, because he knew he'd committed a couple of those, too. Today, however, he would be completely forthright, no matter what was asked. When he reached the top, he turned to her.

"Ready?"

"No," she answered quickly. "I need a chance to think of my question."

"Really? There ain't nothin' you wanna know?"

"Oh, there's plenty," she snorted, joining him again. "But I only get one chance, so I wanna make it count."

"Aw, Hell, just when I thought we were good," he muttered disdainfully as he lumbered toward a nearby tree. His crossbow leaned against it, in case of just such an eventuality. He scooped it up and aimed it in the direction from which the sound had come, just over the next rise.

"I don't hear anything," Carol said quietly.

"I did."

"Walkers?"

"Dunno."

Suddenly, a horse appeared at the top of the hill. Seeing the humans, it immediately turned and bolted.

"Damn, we coulda used him," Daryl sighed, lowering his weapon.

"Well, he's gone now. Pretty wild anyway. He would've been tough to tame."

Daryl propped the crossbow back against the tree and turned his attention back to his sled.

"Gettin' pretty cold. A few more runs?"

"Go ahead," she said. "I'm going to build a snowman."

Two runs later he shrieked as his sled came to an abrupt stop.

"Ow, shit!"

"What?" Carol rushed over from her snow torso. "Are you ok?"

"Goddam stump!" He pointed. "Think I broke my ass!" He gingerly rubbed the sore area.

"Want me to take a look at it?" She asked suggestively. Seeing his obvious befuddlement and rapidly reddening face, she let him off the hook. "So you can defeat tanks and cannibals and hordes of walkers, but a little chunk of wood is gonna do you in?"

"You're the one who beat the cannibals," he teased back at her. "They had me on the ropes."

He waved his chin toward the pile of snow she'd been manipulating. "Your snowman ain't lookin' so hot."

"I was going to put a head on him when someone started whining about a broken ass." She crossed her arms in mock indignation.

"Problem is you ain't got a hat, or even a carrot."

"If I had a carrot right now, you'd eat it."

"Damn straight. I don't suffer for nobody's art."

"He's going to have to go topless." She rolled the snow around to form a head and carefully lifted it to the top of the body. With a stick she drew a face. Satisfied, she broke the stick in two and fashioned the pieces into arms. As she stood back to admire her work she was caught off guard by a barrage of snowballs striking her. Laughing, she ducked behind a tree again and hastily prepared her own arsenal.

Each in his or her own fortress, Daryl behind a boulder and Carol behind the tree, and flinging snowballs back and forth, they laughed like children for the first time in a very long time.

The plunging temperature pulled at Carol's heartstrings. She wasn't ready to give up these precious moments with him—not yet. Not ever. But it was time to head back to reality. Why couldn't reality be more like this? She supposed her eleventh grade English lit teacher would be proud that she finally understood what Robert Frost meant. Nothing gold can stay. Damn, reality was a bitch sometimes.

It was time to go back to the relative shelter of Hilltop.

When the engine of the sedan started up, so did the CD player.

I'll remember what you told me before you went out on your own—

Sometimes to keep it together, you've got to leave it alone.

So you can get on with your search, Baby, and I can get on with mine

And maybe someday we will find

That it wasn't really wasted time.

TBC