Wow, thanks for the great response with the first chapter! Hope I can keep up with expectations.

The Walking Dead does not belong to me but I love those who it does belong to.

Chapter 2

Daryl

He took her offered hand in his, her skin soft and sending a tingle through his arm. "Daryl," he responded. He held her hand a second longer than was probably appropriate before releasing it reluctantly.

That was when he noticed that her left arm was in a cast. The white plaster went from her mid-fingers almost up to the elbow. He frowned, nodding towards it. "What happened?"

Her eyes fell to the ground, her face embarrassed. She opened her mouth to speak and then she paused, closing her mouth. She looked up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face before she spoke again. Daryl realized that she was going to lie to him, make up an excuse for her injury. But then she had changed her mind.

"My abusive, soon-to-be ex-husband broke my wrist. Then he hit my daughter. That's why I'm here. I just started divorce proceedings and filed a restraining order against him. I'm actually waiting here for a police officer to escort me home so I can get our things out of there," she told him honestly.

Daryl wasn't quite sure what to say to that, whether he should express sympathy for her or call the guy an asshole. However, he was saved from that decision when the lady at the coffee counter alerted Carol that she was next. Carol ordered a small hot chocolate.

"You two together?" she asked.

"No," Carol said while Daryl said "Yes," at the same moment.

Carol looked back at him, quirking an eyebrow.

He smiled at her. "This one's on me. To celebrate your freedom from a shitty situation." Then he gave his order of a small regular coffee with 2 sugars to the lady.

"Thank you," she said softly to him. They each took their cups, sipping the hot liquids silently for a moment.

"Carol Peletier!" a male voice called across the room. They both looked over to see a uniformed police officer scanning the room. Daryl had that really weird sense of recognition again, although the feeling was not as pleasant as when he saw Carol.

"Here," called Carol. The cop swung towards them and Daryl could see his name badge read 'Walsh'. The man was handsome but had an arrogant expression on his face. His broad shoulders were reminiscent of a football player's. Despite the thick black hair, Daryl had this vision of the man with a shaved head. He shook his head, clearing the image as the cop approached them.

"You need assistance collecting your belongings from a house where there might be a domestic situation," he read off the paper in his hand. Then he looked at Carol, asking, "Do you think there is going to be a problem?"

Carol looked nervous. "I am really hoping he'll be at work but if he is home, he's going to be really pissed off."

"We'll take care of it, ma'am," he dismissed her worries. "Is this your address?" he pointed to the paper and she nodded. "I will meet you this residence now. If you arrive before me, do not enter. Okay?"

"Yes," she answered and he turned back to the front doors.

Seeing that she was getting ready to leave, Daryl had this sudden twisting in his gut at the thought that he might not ever see her again. He stepped a little closer to her as she watched the cop exit the building.

Having never asked a woman out before, he wasn't quite sure how to do it so he just seized on the first thing that popped into his head. "Maybe I could buy you another drink some time?"

She looked back at him, a bright smile on her lips. "Really? The abusive ex-husband and kid in tow didn't scare you off?" He shook his head. "Well, that earned you a phone number." She grabbed a pen and a napkin off the counter and jotted it down for him. "Hopefully I'll see you around."

He watched her until she got on the elevator to the parking garage, where she caught his eye and smiled at him again. He stood there, his heart thumping in his chest as he watched the doors close.

Prison

Carol sat by Daryl's bedside, holding his hand, willing him to wake up. As soon as she heard foot steps coming towards them, she pulled her hand away from his. It was just in time as Merle strolled into the cell.

He didn't acknowledge Carol as he stood over his brother's prone body on the bunk. Then he brought his boot up and kicked Daryl hard in the shin.

Carol jumped off the chair. "What the hell, Merle?" she shouted at him. She shoved her body between him and the bunk, getting him to back off.

"I just figured he was getting a little too comfortable sittin' with your pretty lil self next to him. He needed a bit o' pain to get him moving again." Merle glared at Daryl around her. "Didn't seem ta work," he grumbled.

"Here, come sit with him for a little while," she motioned towards the chair she had been sitting in. "Just don't try to throttle him awake!" she warned him as she turned to leave.

"Hey," he called out to stop her as he settled himself into the chair, a smirk on his lips. "Ya know he likes you, right?"

"Who? Daryl?" she asked, knowing exactly who he was talking about.

"No, that dumbass Rick! Of course, Daryl. Don't play stupid with me, missy." Merle shot back at her.

"I should hope he likes me, that we're friends. We went through a lot this past year together and we do joke around some," she told him.

"That's not what I mean. I've seen how he looks at ya, especially when you don't know he's lookin'," he pointed at her.

Carol could feel a blush moving across her cheeks. She'd accepted a while ago that she was attracted to Daryl Dixon and it thrilled her that he'd become so much more comfortable around her. But to think that he might be attracted to her? That they could be something together? That was just setting herself up to hurt.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Merle," she said as she fled out of the cell. She could hear him chuckling to himself behind her.