The Game We Talk


That (Wonderful) Time Before Daryl Knew About Keenan


[There was a time, as hard as seems to believe now, when they weren't constantly running for their lives. When and where no one was really in any immediate danger, or in deaths clutches. They were near enough to the city for supply runs, they had a constant source of what they needed, and they had developed a miniature society until the world was put back right again. Back in those times there were moments spared where they could actually talk to each other. Times that Daryl and Lacey took advantage of. Sometimes in the company of Honey, sometimes not; either way their conversations were usually quite... entertaining.]

Another game of give and take. Sitting among the forest trees on a fallen trunk, something of a hunt had turned into something of a social hour. They stayed vigilante, of course, neither of them one to be caught off guard. Keen senses, sharp reflexes, they could keep themselves (and each other) safe. The conversation started off casual, nothing serious, a shared joke here and there, just bullshit. How the conversation had turned away from that, and transformed into something... else... neither one could honestly remember. Lacey had spouted off information about her 'firsts', as she was labeling them (13, 14, 17), which seemed to throw Daryl off, causing a uneasy crease to form between his eyebrows and a blush to erupt from beneath the collar of his shirt and up to his ears.

"Come on," she nudged his shoulder with a fist, "It's not like it's going to become hot gossip. Just between you and me," Lacey urged with a smile, "First kiss, first girl, first time," she ticked off on her fingers and looked at him with that stupid grin he just couldn't say no to, even if he wasn't looking directly at her. Goddamn, woman...

He stood up, walking away some while growling a sigh as he leaned his back against a tree, eyes on the ground, "18 an' 22."

"So..." Lacey supplied him with room to elaborate but he wasn't giving anything more, "I'm going to assume first kiss at 18, and that was with your first girlfriend?"

There was a short head shake in response.

"Oh," Lacey nodded, "22 is first girlfriend and time... huh..." she looked into the distance, unaware of what her vision was really taking in.

"What," Daryl grumbled, annoyed by that curious 'huh' in that far away voice she used, with a look on her face that matched it.

She snapped out of that preoccupied gaze and looked at him, crossing one leg over the other, "Just surprising," she shrugged, and Daryl pushed away from the tree, leisurely making his way back to where she sat on the log. She continued, "Picturing you at 18," a grin started to grow across her face, "I just- I mean, I see that as something..." she trailed off again, nearly zoning out again, it seemed. But he pulled her back in with his voice.

"As what," he seemed more interested than upset now, by the way she pulled her lip in between her teeth, her mind conjuring who knows what kinds of images.

"Something I would definitely throw myself at," her eyes moved back to him where he stood just a foot away from her, a smirk on her mouth, "You are attractive. You know that, right?"

He rolled his eyes, "Shut up," and fell to a crouch to lean his crossbow against the log.

"You are. What, did you think it was simply your- your intoxicating personality that- AHH!" she squeaked as she was torn away from her spot on the fallen trunk and into his lap, laughter coming from her as she was pummeled with gentle fists and tickling fingers.

.

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Ifs: On Greene Farm


"Ain't drivin' no damn mini van."

The conversation had begun as a variation of the games, 'which would you rather', or, 'this or that'.

Would you rather eat walker meat (if walkers actually had meat to give) or starve for two days. Would you rather drink piss or risk drinking unboiled water. French cut panties or commando. To which Daryl easily countered each of those questions with; "I ain't starvin', I know how to take care of myself,", "Whose piss?" and, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Lacey would just laugh and demand him to answer the questions, and promised she would give her own answers after he did. He found her 'commando' answer intriguing (and wondered when he could get her alone again- more accutrately- if he could). But as the game progressed the less silly the questions became, and the more they started circulating around, 'After this is over... this or that.'

(Lacey seemed to have a way about her conversational skills that knew exactly how to get under Daryl's skin, make him uncomfortable, make him question her sanity. Though as time passed he had become used to her sudden bringing up of strange topics of conversation. She seemed to hate the silence, and if that meant bringing up stories from the past- no matter how awkward or disgusting- or starting these fucked up games, she would do it- just to kill the silence. As well as distract them away from the hell they were living in... When the situation or setting was correct for these conversations to occur, of course.)

Lacey raised her hands in surrender, "Hey, I didn't say anything about mini vans, Soccer Dad. And besides. There's no way I'm driving them to school in the city. Traffic in New York is a total fuck story."

"Who said we'd go there? What's wrong with here?"

"Nothing's wrong with here, but realistically the big, big cities are going to get cleaned up first, so... We'd probably be transported to the clean and safe cities until it was all over, so... we'd already be there anyway," she shrugged when his icy stare became... icier. "I don't know. I just thought it might be better for them..."

"Right... You just wanna go back home," he summed up and turned his gaze away from her.

"Well... Could you live there?" she wondered cautiously.

His answer was just as cautious, as if they were a couple making relationship defining decisions, one didn't want to say something to set the other one off and cause a break up, "... I don't know... Maybe."

Lacey smiled smally, "Would you prefer a house or an apartment."

"A house, you think I'm stupid or somethin'?"

From there it went from where the girls would go to school, private or public? Which threw all previous caution to the wind, resulting in an argument about who turned out better with their schooling. A ridiculous argument about theoretical ideas. Though, Lacey exclaimed, if they're in New York anyway there is no question, the girls are going to the school she went to. To which Daryl would shoot back wondering why it mattered if you paid for ritzy schools or not when they're all learning the same goddamn things. A brief pause, quiet, until Lacey continues with a sigh, "Bus or taxi?"

"We ain't livin' in New York," Daryl grumbled, then winced, how the fuck had he been roped into this conversation anyway. He felt like he was 12 years old talking to a... a bratty 5 year old... while they pretended to play house or something. Holy shit.

"Yes, we are. And taxi it is. Next question! Who's going to stay at home with Honey."

.

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We're Sharing This Bed: Talk Me to Sleep


"My dad would've liked you."

"Hm?"

Lacey nodded, turning slightly to get a little more comfortable on the bed, pulling Honey closer to her, keeping a hand on the child's stomach, "Yep... He'd probably threaten you, like any other dad would when it comes to men and their daughters, and seeing as I'm the only daughter he had there would be extra... malice..." she whispered, and though the moon cast some light through the drapes her features couldn't be made out in the darkness, the grin could be heard in her words, "But after a while... he'd like you. He'd treat you as part of the family... even if you didn't want to be."

"Hm. An' what about your mom?" Daryl grumbled drowsily.

There was a sound of shifting fabric on fabric, Lacey shrugging, "You'd get used to her. She was kind of stern, but very, very sweet at the same time. She was the disciplinarian, no question about that. She was always sort of snooty, too. Surprised she ever gave Dad the time of day... Meeting you, she'd probably make some rude comments, but then... eventually... she'd tolerate you, and approve."

"Like I'd need their approval."

An airy chuckle, "I know how your mind works. You would be hoping and praying for a blessing."

He rolls his eyes, "Maybe... only for you."

Though a blush blazed across her chest, up her neck, covered her face and ears she rolled her eyes, incapable of taking a compliment or a sweet comment, not yet at least, not after what they'd been through that day. She had to keep it jokey, had to stay away from the serious. "Because other girls can't compare," sarcasm dripped from her words as she shook her head.

"They don't," he confirmed without hesitation.

She bit her lip, holding back a smile, that blush burning brighter, she was so thankful for the darkness, "Sure..." she worried on her lip now, unsure if she should venture into uncharted territory... but why the hell not, "What about your parents. Would they like me?"

Once again, he answered with certainty, "Nope."

Lacey halted a laugh in her throat, but was unable to stop the snort that came with it, "Well that's a load off my mind."

A sleepy chuckle came from Daryl before he mummbled something that sounded like go to sleep, darlin'...