It was all Shane could do to look away from her. To actually listen to the story Dale was telling them, something about time … about remembering time but also forgetting it? He tried not to listen whenever Dale spoke as it always ended up being some bullshit like this. But she was enthralled, her head resting on her hand as she listened to the old man go on and on and on …
"You got a thing for her?"
Shane looked at Rick with a raised brow, wondering if he could deny it. On one hand, he'd never actually openly said anything to anyone about her, but on the other … he had quite recently popped her father's head open like a water balloon for putting his hands on her and had also spent the last twenty minutes of dinner staring at her across the table. He shrugged noncommittally, taking a long drink of his beer.
"She's not your usual type," said Rick, sounding more amused than Shane had expected. He'd expected a lecture, for the why it was wrong and all of the reasons he shouldn't. He already had a list of his own compiled in his head and was almost hoping Rick had enough to add to convince him to leave it be.
"Ain't much that's usual about anything anymore," Shane reasoned, agreeing that he likely wouldn't have wasted as many thoughts on the girl had he met her in the real world. He preferred his women a bit older, a bit more well endowed and with a whole hell of a lot less baggage.
"What's going on?" asked Lori, leaning in closer to Rick. She knew damn well what was going on. The woman had ears like a hawk and Shane's jaw was clenched as he waited for the opinion he knew was coming. "Isn't she a bit young for you?"
Shane's eyes cut to her, a warning look he was grateful Rick missed. "I think it's good," the man said, earning a dubious look from both of his companions. "I do! Lincoln's a good girl, she's just been dealt a bad hand. She could use something stable in her life." Lori's eyebrows shot up at the word 'stable' being used to describe Shane. "Not that I think you'll ever get Carol or Ed's permission."
"Permission for what?" asked Carol, looking between the trio expectantly. They hadn't realized Dale's story had come to an end and the entire table was watching them now.
Rick merely smiled, looking to Shane to answer. Jackass, thought Shane. "I'm thinking we ought to start teaching people how to shoot," he said, glad he'd actually had something he needed to talk to the group about. "I'm a certified instructor. We got all these guns now, doesn't make sense only three of us can use 'em."
"I thought we were safe here," said Carol, glancing nervously between Rick and Shane.
"We are," said Rick, finally stepping in. "We are, but that's for now. There might come a time when we have to leave or when we need to make a run for supplies. It's better if we're as prepared as possible for any outcome."
While some of the people around the table looked nervous or hesitant, others looked thrilled. "Count me in," Andrea said, nodding her head. She'd had her gun from the start, a gift from her father, and she'd had to use it on Amy, but she didn't know how to deal with a moving target. She wanted to know how to kill those things so nothing like what happened at their camp would ever happen again.
Her stomach was a bundle of nerves as she snuck through the hallway that night, trying to find his room. She knew which room was her family's and which room belonged to Andrea, but she only had a vague idea for the rest of them. She could only imagine how embarrassing it would be to knock on the wrong door at 2am and she prayed that wouldn't happen as she tapped firmly on the door.
A moment passed and then another and she lost her nerve, turning sharply on her heel to run back to her room before that door could open. "Ain't you a little old to be playin' ding dong ditch?" he called after her, stopping her in her tracks.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning back around to face him, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "I'm gonna need a minute to process that you actually know what that is." He clicked his tongue at her, giving her an annoyed look before he started to close his door. She dove for her, barely catching it in time to keep it open. "Wait. Please."
Daryl squinted down at the girl currently blocking his door frame, trying to think of a reason why she was there. Even if he hadn't downed half a bottle of tequila, he doubted he would figure that one out. "What?"
"You said you would teach me how to block a punch," she reminded him. "I know it's late, but-" He stepped back into the room, letting the door fall open. "Really?" she asked hesitantly, still standing just outside his room.
"My other plans fell through," he grunted. "You coming in or not?"
Lincoln skittered inside, pulling the door shut behind her and giving Daryl an opportunity to size her up. She was short and skinny, with arms no bigger around than a soda can. She'd probably be better off letting Shane keep fighting her battles for her, but Daryl had spent a large portion of his own life letting Merle fight his battles for him. It wasn't a pretty sight when that person wasn't around to protect you anymore. "All right, so what's first? We gonna eat some eggs? Jog up some stairs? I'm ready for my Rocky training montage."
"If you wanna block a punch, you gotta know how to throw a punch," he said, finally sitting his half empty bottle of tequila down on his desk before gesturing for her to come closer. She took a hesitant step closer to him. "Well, come on then!"
"What, you want me to hit you?" she demanded. He threw his arms up, thinking he'd made that pretty clear. Lincoln dragged her hand down her face, realizing this had been a huge mistake. "You know, it's getting late, maybe-"
Ignoring her, Daryl walked around her so he was blocking her exit. "You want to go? Get me out of your way," he said.
This was definitely a mistake. She should've asked Shane or Rick or … anyone that wasn't a batshit crazy redneck. With a sigh, she stepped toward him, giving him a halfhearted push out of her way. He returned it with a shove of his own that had enough force behind it to send her stumbling backward, the bed knocking her legs out from under her as she landed on it. Her heart was beating like a hammer in her chest as she tried to steady herself. This wasn't her father, it was Daryl. He wasn't going to hurt her. "That," she said, pushing herself back up to her feet, "was not very nice."
"Makes you want to hit me, don't it?"
It didn't. It really didn't, but she knew he wouldn't let her leave unless she gave him something. So she stepped toward him again, placing both hands firmly on his side and pushing him again, this time making a genuine attempt, before she felt a hand on her head pushing her to the side, this time sending her stumbling into his desk.
She let out a noise of protest but he didn't give her a chance to say whatever she was going to. He didn't want her to talk. He wanted her to get mad. He wanted her to fight back. By the time she managed to get her hair back out of her face, he pushed her by the head again. She put her hands up to stop him now but he knocked them out of the way to grab her by the hair, sending her toppling onto the bed again. "There are better ways to get me into bed, Dixon," she said, lounging back on the bed with a smile that looked anything but easy.
He could see the way her hands were shaking, even as he lunged for her and she quickly rolled off the bed to the side opposite him. "You have to fight back," he insisted, baffled as to why she hadn't taken a swing at him yet. Anyone in their right mind would have defended themselves by now, but she was still looking for a way out, her eyes darting to the door and back to him.
She made a break for it, near sprinting for the door, and she almost had it before he caught her by the hair, yanking her back to him. But this time she threw a panicked elbow back and into his ribcage. He let out a startled 'oof', more surprised than hurt by it, and released his grip on her hair. But she wasn't finished with him. She spun around to face him and shoved him much more forcefully than she had before. He stepped back, trying to steady himself quickly, but she followed up with an even harder push and didn't let up until he hit the bed frame and fell back onto it.
It was an odd position to be in for Daryl Dixon. Laying back on a bed with a girl overtop of him. His feelings were … complicated, to say the least, when he felt the girl's hands on his chest, pressing him down, until he realized they were still shaking. "Hey, you did good," he said, grabbing one of her wrists gently, wanting to help steady her, but she pulled sharply out of his grasp and staggered back toward the door.
"Fuck you," was all she said before she was gone, leaving him still lying on the bed staring after her.
A/N: Thanks for the review moonandstars1989! Hopefully you continue to enjoy it. :)