Daryl had been on his watch rotation for the better part of an hour as far as he could guess; it wasn't like there was a need to punch a timecard since the world went to shit. His shift hadn't meant to start until much later in the evening but the group on the Woodbury run still hadn't returned yet, leaving them shorthanded and him pulling a double. The situation wasn't that bad though. The tower was far enough away from the prison that he was able to get some distance from the new fuckers constantly shadowing his every move and finally enjoy a few rare hours of solitude.
It had been near impossible thanks to the new fan club shadowing his every move to try and track down the owner of the bright blue fabric still wedged in his back pocket. Even though he'd resolved to ask for Carol's help once she returned from the run his mind wouldn't let up as to who the mysterious owner could be. His stint on watch had been the first moment of peace he'd felt all day; between the embarrassing conversation with Beth and the audience that seemed to follow his every move the extra watch shift had been a welcome distraction.
All he'd wanted was a few hours of quiet, but that had been shot to hell courtesy of some Wonder Woman fan with a deceptively small ass. The only good thing to come of the day was that he was finally getting some quiet time thanks to the run returning later than expected.
He wasn't worried that the group wasn't back. A few hours was nothing to be concerned about just yet, but even so he kept his sights firmly set on the dirt track leading into the prison, waiting for the familiar green Hyundai to come blazing down the overgrown road. The sun was slowly setting below the distant treetops, bringing to a close one of the strangest days he could ever remember. The forest and surrounding land was bathed in a golden glow that had no right existing in a world so dark that the dead were permitted to wander the Earth. The further the yellow orb dipped down behind the tree line the colder the early evening grew and Daryl readjusted the poncho around his shoulders in response. The familiar scent of lemons filled the air and the hunter was instantly reminded of a certain woman who was still hadn't returned from the Woodbury run.
Ever since he'd found the star-speckled scrap of fabric in his cell Carol had been skirting around the edge of his mind all afternoon. Try as he might the redneck just couldn't figure why she insisted on taking care of him, but somewhere along the line when Carol had started showing an interest in the day-to-day occurrences of his life he'd started doing the same for her. It went deeper than just casual concern on his part, he knew that much at least. The hunter wasn't sure exactly when he'd appointed himself Carol's own personal guardian, but at some point he'd taken up the mantle without even realizing it. Not that she was a damsel in distress that needed saving or anything like that; time after time Daryl had witnessed her ability to hold her own against the new threats created by this Hell on Earth. Whether it was walkers or humans, the woman didn't need someone to hold her hand. He just…felt better knowing that she was doing okay.
It wasn't just the need to look out for her that always gnawed at the back of his mind now. For the first time since it was just him and Merle, Daryl felt the need to be in someone else's presence on a daily basis. He always sought her out now, regardless of the situation. It didn't matter if it was to check what supplies were dwindling before he left on a run or if he needed a hand skinning his latest kills, Carol was always the person he aimed to find. When they were in a room together he made sure to keep her in his sights. Lately the need to just be near her was overwhelming and before he knew where he was headed his feet had led him in her direction wherever the opportunity arose. He was sitting next to her at every council meeting and every mealtime that came around for Christ's sake. Like a puppy following its master, he was always trailing after that woman. It had even gotten to the point of him stopping by her cell in the dead of the night after his watch shift had ended to check on her. Three in the morning was never warm at the prison, no matter what you did to keep the chill at bay.
The first time he'd stopped to check on her two weeks ago he had found the woman curled up in a tight ball under her threadbare blanket, shivering in her sleep. His instinct had been to crawl into bed with her, wrap his arms around her shaking body and keep her warm with his own body heat, but just as quickly as the idea had popped into his head he'd dismissed it. It was survival 101 but there was something about the thought of joining her like that had unsettled him. Not that the idea had sounded terrible, but he knew she'd never want to wake up to find him sharing her bed. All her jokes aside, a good woman like her didn't need to be scared shitless by his ugly mug being the first thing she saw at the break of dawn.
The hunter had settled for retrieving his own prison-issue blanket and throwing that over her curled form. It didn't take long for Carol to stop shaking and return to a more restful, shiver-free sleep. He figured she needed the blanket more that he did anyway. His whole life Daryl had gone without; he'd spent lots of nights without a bed much less a blanket.
She's already gone through so much shit; if something as simple as a moth-holed blanket made her life more comfortable then he'd go to sleep freezing for the rest of his days.
Each night that followed he made it a habit to slip into her cell and check on her before he bunked down. She never called him out on it but Daryl had a sneaking suspicion the woman knew he'd been the one to look in on her because every morning since that first night he always received an extra spoonful of whatever she was serving up for breakfast. He still couldn't work out why he felt compelled to check on her before he bedded down for the evening; it wasn't like he ever strolled past Rick's cell and made sure he was tucked in tight or anything like that. But Carol was…different.
His thoughts about Carol were interrupted when he noticed the Hyundai break free from the surrounding tree line and draw closer to the prison. Looked like whoever was driving was trying to beat the rapidly disappearing sun before it set completely. It made sense to be back home at the prison before dark; last thing anyone wanted was to be stranded after dark with the dead wandering around out there.
He watched from his vantage point as Carl opened the gate and ushered the green vehicle through before any walkers lingering at the fences could shuffle through the new opening.
The inhabitants of the car piled out one by one, each wearing identical exhausted expressions. Daryl watched as the returning party was greeted by those closest to them. Hershel opened his arms to his daughter before catching Glenn's hand in what Daryl could see was a strong shake. Beth stood not far behind, balancing Judith on her hip as they waited in line for their turn. Carl raced over to Michonne from his previous position at the gate, smiling broadly when the warrior handed him what looked like a rolled up magazine. The kid had been reading comic books more and more now, so it was probably one of those Daryl guessed. Tyreese caught his sister in a bear hug, lifting the woman clear off her feet as she launched herself into his outstretched arms.
Nearly everyone down there got their own brand of Kodak moment. The only member of the group who hadn't received a personal welcoming committee was Carol. From his vantage point the hunter watched as she looked back and forth across the yard, her normally serene face etched with a worried expression. She was gnawing on her bottom lip and her forehead was wrinkled with a frown that had no place being there in his opinion.
The moment her eyes shifted up to the tower and found his the worry slid right away, instantly replaced by a look of sheer relief coupled with a subtle smile. Daryl nodded once in greeting then jerked his head to the side, silently inviting her to join him on watch. They were still a good distance away but his keen eyes were able to see her holding up her index finger and mouth the words 'One minute' in his direction. The woman turned towards the now-hugging Greene sisters, saying something to them that was too low to carry across the yard and up to his ears. He watched as Maggie squeezed Carol's shoulder once then sent an acknowledging wave up at the tower. With a soft smile on her face Carol turned away from the reunited family and made her way towards his vantage point.
The giggle that slipped out of Beth's mouth the moment Carol pointed over her shoulder at his location didn't escape Daryl though. The loud snort that had fallen from that girl's lips had been impossible to miss.
He'd bet dollars to doughnuts he knew exactly what the younger Greene was finding so damn amusing. His hand drifted to his back pocket, patting the garment hidden within.
Good thing someone was so damned amused by a pair of panties 'cause he sure as shit didn't see what was so funny about the situation.
For a second Daryl questioned his decision to carry the panties around in his back pocket instead of just stashing the underwear under the bunk in his cell. For the last few hours he'd been in a shitty mood courtesy of the cargo he was carrying, but at no point did it occur to him to lose the piece of fabric in his travels. Sure it would have been much simpler and saved him a shitload of stress had he just done that instead of holding onto the bright blue garment all day. There was something so…tacky about hiding a woman's underwear under his mattress like it was a dirty magazine. That was the sort of move Merle would have made. The asshole would have been proud to do it too; like it was a trophy he'd won. Daryl missed his brother, but he wasn't about to start displaying the more colourful character flaws of the deceased Dixon.
His thoughts about exactly why he hadn't just ditched the troublesome item were interrupted when Carol pushed open the hatch and made her way inside the tower. She dusted her hands off on the legs of her pants before offering him a brilliant smile and stepping out to join him on the walkway.
"I didn't know you had watch now," she remarked, taking a place next to him along the railing.
Daryl shrugged, casting a glance down at the handful of walkers scattered along the boundary fence. "Someone had to cover Glenn's shift. Figured this way I'd at least get some peace and quiet." After a day spent covertly trying to figure out the identity of the mystery Cinderella Daryl figured he'd earned the luxury of solitude for a few precious hours. "Any problems out there?" he asked, nodding to the land beyond the fences. Not that he'd been worried, but that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach was back, demanding to know what she faced out there.
The woman smiled gently and shook her head. "Everything went fine until we ran into a herd on the way back. Blocked off the road so much we had to double back and find another route. Didn't mean to worry you Pookie," she said, playfully bumping her hip against his own.
He dropped his head, struggling to hide the shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Her calling him Pookie had been a recent thing. Carol knew him well enough to only be like that when it was just the two of them and he was grateful for her insight. That was Carol though; she understood him like no-one else had before.
No-one else had ever made him smile like that before either.
"I see you found your poncho," she said, catching a frayed edge between her fingers before letting her hand drop back down to her side.
"Found what was inside it too," he muttered under his breath, the smile sliding off his face as the words left his mouth.
"Hmm?" Carol murmured from her place beside him. She was too busy watching the snarling dead try unsuccessfully to reach for the living stashed securely inside the fences to notice his change of expression. "What'd you say?"
"Nothin'," he shook his head in an effort to dislodge the image of white stars on a blue background from his mind. "It's nothin'."
He let his eyes drift back to her instead, satisfied the few stragglers clawing at the wire didn't present a threat right at that moment. If hundreds of the fuckers started piling up against the mesh then they'd have something to worry about, but the fences were sturdy enough to hold the weight of a few geeks leaning on them for the mean time. Probably wouldn't be a bad idea to start bracing them with something just in case. Daryl made a mental note to bring that idea up at the next council meeting.
"How'd everything go here?" she queried, retuning the question. "Any trouble today?"
Any trouble? Any trouble! Words failed the hunter as he stared slack jawed at the woman by his side. It was a good thing she was too busy staring out into the rapidly darkening sky because otherwise she might have caught onto the fact his gaze had drifted over to land on her instead of staying on the walkers at the fence. If she only knew what trouble her laundry mix-up had caused him in already she wouldn't have asked that question. He had no idea how to start telling her what kind of trouble he'd had today.
She turned to face him once more, bumping his shoulder with her own. "What?" she asked with a playful smile. The moment she met his eyes the happy expression fell from her face. "Something happened today, didn't it? Did we lose someone?"
He shook his head and pushed off from the railing. "Nah, ain't that," he muttered. A feeling of shame filled him at the look of worry in her eyes. He hated being the one responsible for making her feel like that. She's spent so long convincing him he was a good man that he sometimes forgot the piece of shit he really was deep down.
It didn't matter how much time and effort she spent trying to tell him otherwise, Daryl knew he'd always be nothing more than a redneck asshole that only succeeded in screwing things up. He'd been too consumed with his own petty problem of harbouring a lost pair of panties that he hadn't considered the way him edging around the topic could be misconstrued. He really was a dumbass.
The hunter adjusted his crossbow on his shoulder and took a step closer to the doorway but a small hand flew out and caught his elbow, halting him dead in his tracks.
"Daryl," she said, angling her body so she stood between him and the escape hatch leading inside. "What happened today?" Her voice edged on pleading and again he hated himself for making her sound like that…so unlike the strong woman he knew she really was.
"It's nothin'," he shrugged, making a move to push past her.
"Don't give me that," she chided. The woman stood her ground, refusing to budge an inch. "Tell me. Please?"
Now he really felt like an ass. She thought whatever was bothering him was something serious when all it boiled down to was his inability to function like an adult around something as simple as a pair of women's underwear.
The thought of that goddamned scrap of fabric still in buried in the bottom of his back pocket brought a fresh wave of embarrassment which, judging from the heat he felt spreading up his neck and over his face, had manifested in the form of a severe blush. Not only did he have to tell Carol what he had found in his cell earlier that day, but he also had the added embarrassment of explaining why he had carried the panties around with him like some sort of pussy-crazed pervert.
Why hadn't he just dumped the underwear somewhere and made the damned things someone else's problem for the day? Fucking hindsight was always twenty/twenty.
The fingers wrapped around his elbow started rubbing small circles into his skin, serving to distract him from the momentary flash of embarrassment. The longer her hand worked the sensitive underside of his arm the more relaxed he felt, until finally he was sure the flush previously coloring his skin had staged a full retreat.
She had this way of making him feel totally relaxed and completely on edge all at the same time. He had no idea how she did it, but that was Carol. She was like home and an unexplored frontier all rolled into one.
The fingers massaging his skin were starting to untangle more than just the days' worth of pent-up tension. Daryl found himself wondering what could be so bad about telling her what was bugging him. She's probably giggle at his expense but the thought of her laughter didn't bother him like Beth's had. What could be so bad about explaining to her what he'd spent his day doing? It was Carol for Christ's sake! If he couldn't trust her then who could he trust?
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her exactly what kind of trouble he'd had all day long since first spying the bright blue fabric wedged in the neck of his poncho, but he wasn't willing to launch into the story out there in the open where the sound might travel down to prying ears in the yard. Like locusts swarming a field, the numbers downstairs had multiplied far beyond the welcoming committee assembled there earlier. There was no way he was going to relay his conversation with Beth with all those eavesdroppers down there. He did not need an audience.
"Not out here," he said finally, shifting his gaze downward at the people still milling about the yard.
As always, Carol understood exactly what he wasn't saying. The hand on his elbow slid down to rest on his palm. She took a step back, tugging him forward to follow in her wake. His feet followed the command before his brain registered what was going on yet again. He really had become like a well-trained dog on a leash when it came to her.
Daryl dutifully followed the woman as she led him into the privacy of the tower's inner room. Once they were both safely within the glass walls Carol closed the door, effectively leaving the outside world where it should be: outside. She leant back against the closed door and levelled a questioning look his way.
"What happened?" Carol's soft voice travelled across the small space. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."
Now that they were inside and away from the prying eyes and taunting giggles Daryl didn't know where to start. He glanced around the small room, searching the darkened corners as if they held the answer to his dilemma but the only thing his eyes landed on was an old beat-up card table pushed up against the far wall. A battery-powered camping lantern that had seen better days sat in the middle of the faded Formica top. For a second he considered taking a seat in one of the mismatched chairs pushed underneath, but sitting down seemed to make this whole thing seem so…formal. Like they were about to have a council meeting instead of him trying to tell her that he'd had a shitty day all thanks to the underwear he'd been carrying around.
He stomped over to the far corner and switched the lantern on. Golden light that mimicked the earlier sunset filled the surrounding area, bathing the enclosed space in a soft glow that wasn't normally present there after dark. Usually there wasn't a need for light inside the tower; any light would serve to blind whoever was outside on watch from any approaching dangers.
"Spent the better part of the afternoon chasing my tail over these," before his nerves got the better of him again Daryl snagged the panties out of his back pocket and tossed them down next to the lantern. In the soft light the bright blue looked almost black, but there was no denying what the bunched up fabric was. "Found 'em inside my poncho this afternoon," he clarified, catching the confused expression that overtook her face. As soon as Carol's eyes drifted down to land on the star-covered fabric Daryl felt the familiar burning sensation working up his neck again. At least the faint glow of the lantern wasn't strong enough for her to see he'd gone as red as a lobster. "Don't know who the hell they belong to-"
"I can help you with that," Carol interrupted. The woman confidently strode up to the table and cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as she examined the article of clothing on the dusty top. "They're mine," she said without the slightest hint of embarrassment.
"What the hell you mean they're yours?" Daryl spluttered.
"They're mine," she repeated, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke. "I used to love watching Wonder Woman on TV when I was younger. Maggie and I were talking about old TV shows once and the next day she came back from a run with these." The woman scooped up the panties and folded the fabric into a small square the size of her palm, her gaze focused on her hand. When she looked up at him again there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye and a teasing smile tugging on the corner of her mouth. "The stars glow in the dark too if you're interested…"
She left the offer hanging in the air, much like she did when it was the two of them on top that overturned bus their first night at the prison. His eyes automatically shot down to her palm. He hadn't meant to look but he couldn't stop himself. The stars he'd thought white were now a faint glowing yellow, standing in stark contrast against her hand. Quickly he averted his gaze, instead returning his eyes to the table top standing between them.
The entire time he'd been carrying around that cargo the possibility had never entered his mind that they belonged toCarol of all people. He'd been too preoccupied going through the list of possible prison suspects to even entertain the thought that she would be the guilty party.
It dawned on him then; he'd been stomping around the prison all damn day with a pair of Carol's underwear wedged in his back pocket! Daryl was certain his entire body from top to toe would be bright red like he'd rolled in a patch of poison oak. Merle would have had a fucking field day if he was alive to see the mess Daryl had managed to land himself in now.
She had to be wrong. Maybe she was just covering for someone else so he wouldn't get too embarrassed about the whole situation. That was exactly the sort of thing Carol would do in a bid to take care of everyone. Those panties couldn't belong to her of all people.
Those panties had been in the same pocket he kept his rag in…touching it all day long. That thought alone made his face flash brighter than a neon sign. God, he really had turned out to be some sort of pervert, just like his brother.
"Sorry for the trouble," she continued. "Must have got these mixed up with your laundry this morning." The woman slipped the folded garment into the front pocket of her cargos. "Simple mistake," she shrugged, clearly unfazed by the revelation that her unmentionables had been in his possession.
"A simple mistake?" he echoed, still trying to wrap his head around what the woman was telling him. His embarrassment was giving way to a new emotion: anger. He was mad as a cut snake and it was all due to a blue scrap of fabric that apparently belonged to the woman standing opposite. "You call your panties ended up in my cell a simple mistake?!"
"Why Daryl, you want my panties there on purpose?" she countered with a smirk.
He didn't think it was possible to be any more embarrassed but he'd been wrong. It felt like the fires of Hell were burning red-hot under every inch of his skin.
"No way in hell those things belong to you!" he argued, grasping for a reason why the underwear couldn't possibly belong to the woman standing before him. Yes, they'd all lost some weight courtesy of the hard life they lived now, but there was no way Carol's ass fit those panties. He'd been sure that based on the size they'd belonged to Beth or one of the children. At a stretch he'd believe that Maggie might have wiggled her way into them, but the possibly of Carol owning them never crossed his mind.
Carol arched an eyebrow, still smiling that teasing smile as the next words left her mouth. "And why is that?"
"Those tiny things are too small to fit your damn ass!" he bellowed, saying the first thing that came to mind.
The moment the words left his mouth Daryl knew he'd fucked up. On reflex he winced and took a step back from the table, distancing himself from what was surely to be an extremely angry woman who carried a gun and knuckleduster at all times. His previous experience with women was limited to a few drunken pick up's and one night stands but he knew enough to realize that you did not talk about the size of a woman's behind when she was in earshot. Ever. Women were touchy about that sort of shit.
'Way to go, dumbass,' Merle's taunting voice groaned inside his head.
Last thing he needed was commentary from that bastard.
Carol arched an eyebrow. "Too small?" she chuckled. "How would you know that unless you've had a good look at my behind?" The woman pushed her body away from the wall and sauntered across the room towards him.
Daryl felt like all the air in the tower had been sucked out instantly. Carol had a smirk on her lips and a predatory glint in her eyes. The teasing he'd come to expect, but the look she was levelling his way was something new.
The woman crossed the room quickly and sided up to the hunter, coming to a stop when they were merely a foot apart. She braced her hand on his shoulder and leaned in closer, letting her breath fan out over his ear. "Maybe it was the only way I could get my panties on the floor of your cell in the first place, ever think of that?" she whispered.
The woman didn't wait for a response. She walked past Daryl and made for the hatch leading downstairs.
He was speechless. If he even had to ability to speak he sure as shit didn't know where to start. Of all the things he expected her to say, of all the possible scenarios running through his mind at high speed, never in a million years did the redneck expect her to say that. He thought for sure she'd be pissed, but Carol had a knack for surprising him. She didn't even blink an eye.
She thought the damned situation was funny!
He underestimated her. Months ago he'd overheard her warning Merle not to underestimate her. Pity the younger Dixon didn't heed that advice.
All fucking day he'd been running around, making ass of himself trying to decode the mystery of who the hell owned the Wonder Woman underwear and it turned out they were hers?
Daryl found his gaze drifting southward to land on Carol's behind as she continued over to the only exit leading out of the tower: the hatch in the floor. For all the time he'd spent watching her this was the first time he'd let his gaze dip lower than her smile. He had to admit now that he was looking, Carol's ass was just about the size of the blue panties. Good shape too; the sort of ass that was just begging to be squeezed. He cocked his head to the left, studying the newfound attraction with more detail.
The fact her hips were still slowly swaying side to side as she moved didn't escape his attention either.
Carol knew he was looking. The new pronounced sway of her hips let him in on that. Maybe she always had that sway when she moved. It would certainly explain why he'd taken to following her around like a lost puppy. But now was the first time he was noticing it.
Daryl knew then it wouldn't be the last time he snuck a peek at her rear.
The redneck shook himself, breaking the trance her sashaying curves seemed to hold over him. He shouldn't be looking at Carol like that. She was too good of a woman for the likes of him. It didn't matter that her options were limited, he was not the man of honour she deserved.
The woman opened the hatch on the floor and proceeded to fold her body down through the square opening. Poised with only her head sticking out of the hole she smiled up at Daryl again. "See you at three," she grinned, winking before disappearing down the hatch and out of sight.
Oh that was it. That woman and her smart mouth had just talked herself out of any further visits. Making her freeze her ass off seemed like fair trade for him burning up with embarrassment all day long.
It took Daryl a moment to realize Carol had gotten the last word before she strolled out of the tower like there wasn't a problem in the world. He was not about to back down from her teasing ways; not this time. He'd dealt with too much shit today to just let that one slide. He crossed the tower in three large strides and flung the walkway door wide open. Even in the diminished light he could see she'd already made it down to the yard and was standing with the Greene family and Glenn.
Daryl stepped up to the railing and cupped his hands around his mouth. "CAROL!" He yelled, watching as her head swivelled, following the sound of his voice. He waited until her gaze was locked on him before continuing. "IF YOU WANTED TO GET YOUR PANTIES ON MY CELL FLOOR I COULD THINK OF A BETTER WAY O' DOING IT!"
Carol's mouth dropped open, making her look like one of those cheesy clown games at a carnival. Finally he'd managed to get one up on her. It felt good to have the upper hand for a change. Damn good.
A snort of laughter belonging to Beth cut through the still evening air, followed by Glenn's own loud cackle.
Without waiting for a reply Daryl strode back into the tower and slammed the door, confident he'd managed to get the last word for once. Giving her a dose of her own medicine felt extremely rewarding. No wonder she always made those cracks at his expense; the ability to render her speechless instead of vice-versa felt incredible. A sense of pride filled him as he replayed the scene over in his head.
It dawned on Daryl then exactly what he'd just screeched across the yard like some sort of redneck mating call. Too hell bent on getting the last word and wiping that all-knowing grin clear off her face he hadn't stopped to consider the weight of the words that left his mouth.
He'd bellowed loud enough for not only Carol, but the entire population of the prison inside and out to hear exactly what he said and who he said it to.
"Shit!" He collapsed into the nearby chair and dropped his head onto the tabletop. His problem with a pair of panties seemed like a walk in the park compared to the shitstorm sure to be heading his way now.
He was never going to live this down.
A/N: Thank you all for persevering with me on this one. I know you all saw where this was heading, but the idea of Daryl wandering around with a pair of Carol's underwear tucked in his pocket all day just amused me to no end. This is my first complete Operation Levity offering. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. I certainly had fun with the idea a guy like Daryl could be scared of something as harmless as Wonder Woman briefs.