Chapter 2

Author's Note: Wow, thank you so much for the overwhelming positivity in the reviews for this so far! I wasn't expecting such a huge response! This is officially the second fanfic I've attempted as AU without the zombie apocalypse, and I really love the idea of putting these characters in such different situations. I hope you all continue to read. Let me know how you like it! Thanks so much.

Carol's mouth dropped open slightly, and she felt the heat in her cheeks as his eyes bore into hers. He was staring at her, his express a mix of pleasant surprise that his date was attractive and of desire as his gaze moved from her face all the way down to her toes, giving her a good once over. Apparently, he liked what he saw, but the look on Carol's face gave nothing away. She looked startled, stunned, and as she pushed her way out the door without even inviting him in, he wondered if maybe this was one huge mistake.

"You Carol?"

"Uh, yeah. You're…you're Daryl? Rick's friend, Daryl?"

"Uh, yeah," he chuckled. "You ok?"

"I'm fine," she said slowly, catching her breath, her gaze fixing on his face, suddenly seeing Sam's nose and Sophia's dark blonde hair. "Um, are you ready?" Daryl nodded, feeling his stomach twisting into knots as Carol's stiff form walked briskly next to him. He wondered exactly when the fun Carol that Rick had told him so much about was going to appear, because this woman seemed scared to death. Not of him, but of something, and as first dates went, this one already wasn't going so well.

He sighed heavily and opened the door to the pickup.

"Thanks," she managed, quickly scooting into the seat and reaching for her belt. Daryl lingered there for a moment before shutting the door and moving around the truck to climb in and head off toward Vinny's, a local burger joint.

She was tense on the other side of the truck, and he thought for a moment about turning around and taking her home, but he pushed through his reservations and decided that she might just be as nervous as he was.

"How long have you known Rick?" he offered, hoping somehow he could get her talking. Rick was certainly right about her being a beautiful woman, but she clearly wasn't comfortable with him.

"Um, Rick? Maybe six or seven years? He's a good friend."

"Yeah."

"You two went to high school together, huh?"

"He kept my ass out of trouble," Daryl said with a chuckle. "Wasn't surprised at all when he told he me wanted to be a cop."

"Oh." Carol's mouth felt dry. She was trying to decide if she should just ask him to turn around and take her home or if she should just go. She couldn't deny that Tara was absolutely right about the fact that this man was gorgeous. But she was having the hardest time wrapping her head around the fact that this man was the father of her children. For four years, he'd been some face on a piece of paper, some set of statistics, some factor in her decision to have children. She'd been attracted to his face, a younger version of the one he wore now. His hair had been shorter then, but he'd had the slightest patch of grey in his beard, just like now. It was unmistakable. This was him. This was the man who helped make her a mother, and he had no idea.

"You hungry?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yes," she said with a nervous smile. She chewed her lip and watched as the passing cars rushed by. She heard him clear his throat, and she felt a heat flush her cheeks. She realized she was coming off as disinterested or maybe even cold, but he had no idea the thoughts running through her head. And to top it all off, he smelled amazing. A little bit like tobacco, a little bit like cologne and soap. She'd never been the kind of woman to be attracted to a smoker, but when he peered at her from beneath the fringe of hair that fell into his face, she felt a spark run through her straight to her core.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"You have kids?" She jumped at his question. "Rick said you did."

"Yeah. I have four-year-old twins." She curled her fingers up anxiously in her lap. "They're great. I love being a mom." And, by the way, you're their biological father. I'm sure you have no idea, and you just might have twenty other kids out there with that hair and those eyes and…how is this even happening right now?

Daryl noticed the way her hands fidgeted, and he decided that she was more likely nervous, and he decided that maybe this date would turn out well after all. Maybe when they got to the diner, she'd loosen up a little. Here he'd been thinking he'd be the awkward one, and he felt bad that she was so anxious, but he felt a little better knowing he wasn't the only one.

They were at the diner in no time, and as they walked up to the doors, Carol stopped, and he turned to her.

"You alright?"

"Look, we don't have to do this," Carol offered. "I told Michonne I'd come, because she's my friend, and I'm sure it's the same for you."

"Look, lady, if you don't wanna be here, you don't gotta make excuses. Just tell me, and I'll take you home." His voice was a little gruff, and Carol raised an eyebrow.

"It's not…no, I'm not making excuses. I'm just saying, I have two kids, I have…baggage. I'm giving you an out."

"It's just dinner," he smirked. "Dunno about you, but I'm hungry." Carol couldn't help but manage a little smile.

"I could eat," she shrugged. Daryl got the door, opening it for her, and she saw the way he chewed his lip nervously when she glanced at him. She felt those butterflies really starting to wake up when his hand brushed over the small of her back when he bumped into her from behind.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It's ok," she assured him, just as they made their way over to a little booth in the back. It was quiet, and Carol thought for a moment that the silent solitude would surely give away her tell-tale heart. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this anxious on a date.

When he slid into the booth across from her, the waitress came over smacking on her chewing gum. She handed them their menus, and Daryl ordered a coffee for himself, and Carol asked for a lemonade.

"You from around here?" he asked her after a few awkward moments of silence after their beverages arrived. Carol moved to hand him the sugar bowl, and the lit clattered in her shaking hand, falling to the tabletop in a loud drum roll. Carol felt like crawling inside of herself and disappearing. She'd never been this awkward before.

"Hey," he offered, putting his hand over hers. He hadn't meant to be so forward, and he felt like an asshole when she pulled her hand away like she'd been burnt.

"I'm sorry," Carol muttered, taking a big gulp of her lemonade. Her face was flush with embarrassment, and if she hadn't been trying so hard to avoid his gaze, she'd have noticed the amused smile that perked up on his lips. When a little chuckle left his mouth, Carol's gaze darted up to his.

"What?"

"Just…I thought I'd be the one droppin' things and shakin' like crazy."

"Oh," she muttered, finally managing a laugh before she put her hand to her face. It felt like it was on fire. "I'm sorry."

"Don't have to apologize."

"I don't date much."

"Why not?"

"Work. My kids. I'm too busy. At least that's what I tell myself." She let out a breath and ran her fingers through her short hair. The thundering in her chest slowed slightly, and she decided to separate the fact that she was on a date with the man she'd picked to father her children. Instead, she was going to focus on getting out of the house for an evening with a perfectly nice man who just happened to be incredibly gorgeous. It was those eyes. Looking into his eyes made her knees tremble, and she thought about what it might be like to stare into them as he…no, don't even go there.

"Me neither."

"Hmm?"

"I don't date much either," he admitted. "Up in New York, I got my garage, and it pretty much takes most of my time."

"You can't tell me you don't go out once in a while."

"Sometimes," he said with a shrug, taking a sip of his hot coffee. Carol saw a hint of pink creep into his cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes slightly, deciding that tonight, she was just going to enjoy her time with this stranger. Tonight, she wasn't going to let herself think about how complicated this could be if he moved back home. Maybe after tonight, he'd not want to see her again. While part of her thought that would be for the best, another part of her ached at the idea. She did like him. She truly did. But the fact that he'd shown up in her life being who he was and having no idea that she'd often wondered about him over the past four years had overshadowed everything else.

"You don't talk much," Carol decided evenly.

"Guess not," he said with a little smirk, taking another drink of his coffee. The way his eyes were staring into hers now had her skin tingling. This is wrong. You can't get close to him. You know you can't. So stop.

"So you're moving back to Georgia?"

"Tryin' to," he said quietly.

"What does that mean?"

"Means I'm tryin' to get somebody to buy me out so I can come back here. Don't like New York much."

"So you're just going to give up your shop?"

"Wasn't mine to begin with," he muttered. "Got a good job there, and I made enough money to buy 'em out, 'cause they were movin' back home. I get it now. Didn't get it then. I want out."

"Why don't you just hire a manager? You'd still get to keep the company, but you wouldn't have to be there full time."

"Dunno. Just kinda want to cut all my ties there, you know?"

"I get that," Carol said quietly. "When my kids were born, I just wanted to stay home with them all day. I didn't want to leave them. I just wanted to be home and be a mom, but I couldn't do that. Thank God, my boss is pretty understanding." Daryl eyed her. "I'm just saying, you're pretty much your own boss, so you can do whatever you want to do. Make accommodations for yourself. Do what's going to make you happy." She saw a little smile tug at his lips. "Daryl?" He looked up at her. "If you could do one thing to make yourself happy, what would it be?"

"Dunno. Ain't thought about it much." Carol sighed and shook her head.

"You've thought about selling your shop, so clearly there's something going on in that brain of yours." She gave him a smile, and she saw his shoulders lower just a little. As she relaxed, he seemed to relax, and they were edging into comfortable conversation. It was nice.

"Always wanted to build my own house, y'know? Or find the house I always wanted as a kid. Didn't have much growin' up. Me and Merle, that's my brother, we'd go out on our bikes, ride out by the lake and look at all the houses, always talkin' 'bout how we were gonna buy 'em one day when we were rich."

"Well, you can do that now, right?" Carol asked, raising an eyebrow. Daryl glanced at her. "I'm sorry, it's none of my business, but I'm just saying, if that's what you want, you should do it. But I still wouldn't give up the shop. That's just me."

"I'm still goin' through my options," he shrugged. "Still ain't made up my mind. Got an alright apartment in the city, but for what I pay there a month, I could be payin' a mortgage on somethin' three times the size out here." The waitress came by at that point to take their orders, and when she walked away, Carol picked up the wrapper from her straw, twisting it back and forth, a nervous habit.

"Your kids' dad? He still in the picture?" Carol looked up in surprise.

"Him? Uh. No. He's not in the picture. Never has been."

"M'sorry," Daryl said quietly, looking down at his coffee cup. "I get that. My dad wasn't around much either. When he was, I wished he wasn't, y'know?"

"It's just…it's a complicated story. He's not in my life. We've gotten along just fine these past four years." Carol cleared her throat and felt her stomach twisting into knots again. Daryl nodded his head in understanding, and Carol felt a lump grow in her throat. She felt like she was deceiving him. She felt guilty, for some reason, as if she were doing something wrong. This man was perfectly kind, and she was certainly attracted to him, but she knew something that he didn't, and she wondered, if he did know it, if he would look at her differently. It wasn't just herself she had to think about. She had two very impressionable kids at home that had only recently begun asking about their daddy, wondering why they didn't have one when the other kids in preschool did.

"You ok?" he asked after a few moments of her silence.

"I'm fine," she said with a weak smile. "Just a little tired, I guess. Long day."

"Look, we can skip the bar if you want. Ain't really my idea of a first date anyway." First date? Fuck, Dixon, way to assume she's gonna want to see you again.

"If you want, that's fine," Carol said with a little nod. "I'm sure you've got other things to do, other people to visit while you're here."

"No, I wasn't…I mean, I didn't…shit." Carol raised her eyebrows at him now. Now he was the awkward one, and she was starting to feel a slight bit better. "I wasn't sayin' we should call it a night. Was just sayin' we can go somewhere else. If you want to."

"Oh," she said, taking in a sharp breath. "Ok."

"You got any place in mind?"

...

SO, HOW'S IT GOING? IF I DON'T GET A RESPONSE IN TEN MINUTES,, I'M GOING TO ASSUME YOU ELOPED TO VEGAS.

IT'S FINE, TARA. HOW ARE THE KIDS?"

NOBODY BURNED ANYTHING DOWN. NOBODY NEEDED STITCHES. THEY'RE OUT LIKE LIGHTS. YOU AT THE BAR?

I'M IN THE BATHROOM.

THANKS FOR THE INFO. SERIOUSLY, HOW'S IT GOING?

WE'RE NOT GOING TO THE BAR.

SUCKS. THAT BAD?

NO. IT'S COMPLICATED.

YOU TOTALLY JUST FUCKED HIM IN THAT BATHROOM, DIDN'T YOU?

YOU'RE WARPED. YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?

OF COURSE! HAVING FUN AT ALL?

NOT SURE FUN'S THE WORD. HOW ARE THE KIDS?

NO PROBLEM. NOW GO GET SOME, WOMAN!

Carol smirked at the last text that Tara sent before she leaned against the wall of the bathroom. She took a deep breath and dialed Michonne's phone number. This was not the conversation to be had by text messaging.

"Why are you calling me? Where's your date?" The first words out of Michonne's mouth had a smile tugging at Carol's mouth.

"I'm in the bathroom, and I'm freaking out."

"Why? Oh God. What did he do?"

"Nothing. He's perfectly fine. He's gorgeous, and he's…"

"So why are we still talking? Go back out there!"

"He's the donor, Mich."

"Say what?"

"He's the donor. He's the sperm donor." Silence. "Mich? Say something."

"Holy shit," Michonne breathed slowly.

"Please don't say anything to Rick. I'm not sure…I don't know what to do."

"What do you want to do? Holy shit, this is huge, Carol. How do you know?"

"He's the one. He's the one I chose. I poured over hundreds of pictures, and his profile was the one that stood out. I remember reading he was a mechanic. He was my age. He was healthy. And that picture, Mich. The second I opened my door tonight, I knew exactly who I was staring at. It's him."

"This is huge."

"Well, yeah!" Carol cried in exasperation. "I don't know what to do. You have to tell me what to do."

"Breathe. Carol? Breathe." Carol took a few deep breaths. "Okay, look. You don't know this guy. You don't owe him anything. Your kids are your kids. He just happened to donate sperm once, and you happened to choose him. And he happened to be Rick's high school buddy, and you happened to go out with him."

"Ok, what are you saying?" Carol urged.

"Do you like him?"

"I do, and I'm a complete mess," Carol groaned. "He's gorgeous. And we get along, but I'm so…I'm a wreck out there."

"Well, I imagine he is, too," Michonne snorted.

"What?"

"Rick just got a text. Hold on." Carol heard some arguing on the other line, which clearly ended with Michonne the victor. "He told Rick he thinks you're escaping through the bathroom window. How long have you been in there?"

"A while," Carol groaned. "God, I don't know what he must think of me."

"Well, Rick's being an ass. He just told him to go after you."

"Shit," Carol sputtered. "I have to get back out there."

"Well go on! And don't freak out. Just have fun. You owe him nothing. He's just a guy, and you're just a girl, and the fact that he happens to share genetic material with your kids, well, you can think about that later, ok?"

"This is a disaster."

"Look, if nothing else, you can look at this as a golden opportunity to get to know him. Get to know what he's like. Then one day, you'll be able to tell the kids what you know about their dad, you know? It's a little odd, but it works."

"I guess," Carol murmured.

"Look, he likes you. I promise. He's blowing up Rick's phone, and he's just as awkward as you. It's kind of beautiful."

"I hate you right now."

"I know," Michonne laughed. "Don't worry. It's one date. Just go be yourself, but just try not to over think things so much."

"Alright," Carol muttered.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?"

"Amazing," Carol groaned again. "Those eyes, Michonne. I just…I'm having really inappropriate thoughts."

"Carol, you're thirty five, and you haven't had sex in how long? It's not inappropriate. Just go get some."

"You're inappropriate, and that's horrible advice." Carol shot back. "This isn't happening. Come pick me up."

"Do you really want me to do that? Because I will. You know that."

"No," Carol whined. "I just…"

"Stop. Stop over thinking it. Just go enjoy the rest of your date, and if I get a text from Tara at three in the morning complaining about you being late, then I'll just thank God you finally got laid."

"I really hate you. I do."

"Have fun!" And the line went dead. Carol sighed and decided it was time to return to her date. Whatever happened tonight, she was either going to hate herself in the morning for doing something stupid, or she was going to regret that she didn't let herself do something stupid.

With a deep breath, Carol put her phone back in her pocket and headed out to face Daryl and let the night take them wherever it was supposed to. Gathering all of the courage she had inside of her, she made her way back to their booth, startling Daryl when she was suddenly standing right beside him. He nearly choked on his last gulp of coffee, and he quickly stood to face her.

"So, I think I might be up for a round of pool, after all. You game?" she asked, her eyes fixed on his, her confidence beginning to peak through a little. He gave her a little nod.

"You're on."