Chapter Seven

Daryl had been looking all over for Michonne. He'd seen her about twenty minutes before when he pointed her towards the bathroom. Now he was starting to dread that maybe she'd bailed on him, although that didn't seem like something she'd do.

He'd just finished his shift for the night, opting not to take the cleanup shift since he'd been up since the early morning to do set up. Carol had told him it was fine for him to relax and enjoy the party; he'd gotten to chat with her for a few minutes but it was essentially a work event for her. Even now, he could see her sitting with a few older looking do-gooders, laughing over a drink about something or another. He'd been real thankful for the tip about making the extra money. He was saving up for a motorcycle and this side job would help.

This late in the evening, Daryl was surprised how many people remained at the party. However, the dance floor was full of revelers and the bars were still in full swing. The kitchen had closed about an hour before but the catering staff still rolled out several easy to clean trays of desserts for people to snack on.

Working the event had been a real eye opener about how the other half lived. People were wearing all kinds of jewelry and fancy outfits. They'd rolled up in their shiny cars and dropped twenty dollar tips all night right before signing huge checks to help out the shelter. He thought their generosity a good thing but it was a trip to him for sure.

And it had been a nice surprise to see Michonne not in work mode. Or maybe "surprise" wasn't the right word to describe the anticipation of bumping into her in the crowd. When Carol told him abut the catering gig, he'd thought it sounded like easy money. He hadn't lied to Michonne about that. Nor had he lied about doing Carol a favor.

But also on his mind had been noticing Michonne's name on the guest list. Providing his services for the evening was a chance to see her again now that she'd stopped picking up Andrea's clinic shifts.

Then, he'd practically made a clown of himself tripping over his tongue when he got a good eye on how she'd cleaned up for the occasion. It wasn't as over the top as some of the outfits other women were wearing but she looked absolutely gorgeous to him. Seeing her bare shoulders and smooth, toned legs in that dress was a thing of beauty. With the makeup and the little bit of jewelry she wore, it was like her skin glowed or something.

It wasn't as if he had a chance with her; maybe that's why he was so open to teasing her and joking around. Otherwise, the pressure of trying to impress her would kick in and he'd only make himself seem like a fool. Maybe she had no interest in men like him, blue collar or white or criminals—she could take her pick on the ways he differed from who she probably went for in a guy. Women were such a mystery to him. Outside of the floozies who made the first move to get into his pants, he was terrible at any interaction that didn't involve a roll in the hay. And with Michonne, sex was only one of the many ways he found the idea of being with her so appealing.

He and Michonne were friendly though. When she did the clinic, she always helped him clean up and break down the room so he and Carol could leave sooner. They'd go about it as if they'd been partnering up for years, often not a word spoken between them. She'd ask about his brother and he'd ask about her daughters; she'd tell him humorous stories about his former attorney. When they did make conversation, she never made him feel dumb or talked like she was smarter than him even though he'd seen up close how brilliant she was. That's the first thing he'd liked about her all those months ago when they'd been in court—she treated him with respect. There weren't too many people in his life that had given him that kind of benefit of the doubt.

She'd been a little tipsy when he'd first seen her tonight and it was an amusing, slightly arousing sight. Recalling that encounter and the few times he'd caught her throughout the night made him anxious to locate her in the bustling crowd. Another walkthrough of the upper level paid off as he saw her slumped down in the corner by herself nursing a generous glass of scotch.

"There ya are. Been lookin' all over for ya." He slipped into the seat beside her on the small couch. "I hope you're going easy on those. Don't wanna have to carry ya outta here." Finally getting a good look at her, he scowled and started to worry. "What's wrong, Michonne."

She took another sip of her scotch and sighed. There was no response to his question yet without any notice or expectation, she simply lay her head on his shoulder and leaned into him. The feel of her warm, petite body next to his caused him to panic and rejoice at the same time. She also took his hand and he could feel her shaking against him. Any discomfort at having her so close was overcome by his concern and impulse to protect her despite knowing how strong she was on her own.

"Hey now," he soothed. "Tell me what happened?"

Placing her glass on the low table in front of the couch, she curled up further into him; he let go of her hand to put an arm around her. The move felt a bit awkward to him but she didn't appear to notice. He reached for her again with his free hand and she took it, holding on tightly.

"What happened is that Andrea's boyfriend is an asshole, just like you said." That wasn't news to Daryl. He'd almost gotten into it with the guy when he'd come by to pick up Andrea after one of her clinic days, all storming in trying to run shit. He hated dudes like that who thought they could boss him around because they made more money or drove a nicer car. Instead of fussing with the guy, he just left the room. He hadn't needed any trouble when he was so close to getting his case thrown out.

"You finally get into it with him? I'm sure he deserved it whatever you told him, I don't care what Andrea got to say on it."

Michonne huffed. "Some help she was. I thought she was my friend but more than that, I thought she was someone who wouldn't put up with a bullshit artist and predator like that guy."

Daryl could sense the anger coming off her in waves. Her body was tightly wound against him and she kept reaching for her scotch before pulling away at the last second, as if stopping herself from downing the whole thing. "Why don't ya give me an idea 'a what went down with y'all."

She raised her head from his shoulder and sat up a little straighter as if summoning the energy to relay her story. "There's not much to it. He had too much to drink, cornered me by the bathroom, grabbed my ass and slobbered all over me, talking about threesomes and having some fun together." It was Daryl's turn to stiffen, outrage flaring to life on her behalf. "I clocked him and threw his drink in his eye and he just laughed."

Daryl's temper erupted and he felt his hands ball into fists. That son of a bitch! He wanted to go find that fucker and beat his ass. He dropped her hand and started to slide out of the couch to go look for the man and give him a piece of his mind—and maybe a piece of his fist too.

Michonne grabbed onto him, tightening her hold and halting his movement. "They're already gone."

Throwing himself back into his seat, Daryl tried to reign in his anger. "He's damn lucky 'bout that otherwise he'd find himself in a spot 'a trouble with me. He aint got no cause puttin' his hands on a woman like that."

"Hey," she chastised. "I appreciate your concern. You have no idea how grateful I am for that right now. But don't go risking yourself over assholes like him, especially when you just got off probation." She squeezed his knee and it calmed him even as it prompted a throbbing desire in the pit of his stomach. "You're better than that, Daryl."

She had a point even if he wasn't about hearing it right now with the anger percolating inside him. Having Michonne shivering with rage in his arms, he realized he was more useful staying with her anyway. It's where he preferred to be, truth be told.

Noticing that he'd been shaking his foot in agitation, he willed himself to remain still and looked down into her face, resting along his arm. "Did you tell Andrea?"

Scoffing in disgust, she nodded. "She practically walked in on the whole thing. Phillip played all nice and innocent and she was so drunk she believed him; she told me that his bullshit apology should have been enough to satisfy the situation. Well, she can kiss my ass with that reasoning." Michonne leaned back against him again, deflated but defiant. "He's going to hurt her. I know he is but I feel like there's nothing I can do about it, or want to because I'm so angry with the both of them right now."

He rubbed her shoulder, hopefully offering some comfort.

The story left him dumbfounded. The guy had struck Daryl as a grade A jerk but this exceeded all the warning signs. Glancing down at her, he marveled at how determined she seemed and genuinely sad for her friend. Michonne was a good person and didn't deserve this kind of crap. Still, he was unsure how to make her feel better or what he should say.

One important detail was on his mind though. "He didn't hurt ya did he?" There was a fear to asking the question and he couldn't settle himself not knowing.

Michonne squeezed his hand. "No, he didn't. Just pissed me off." The intense relief at hearing that surprised him.

They sat for a while watching the party continue around them. Michonne sipped from her drink and Daryl caressed her hand or her shoulder every once in a while. A few times, her eyelashes brushed against his cheek reminding him how close they were. He tried not to fidget too much at the feel of her breath against his neck. Instead, he kept his cool, enjoying the weight of her in his arms and trying to wipe away the slimy touch of Andrea's boyfriend.

Seeing the contents of the snack table dwindling. He made a trip over and grabbed some mini-desserts for the two of them to share. They didn't return to their earlier embrace but they stayed close to each other. It didn't seem awkward which Daryl was thankful for.

"Oh, I meant to tell you," she said out of nowhere. "I'm going to be in your neck of the woods tomorrow. I promised my girls we'd go get a Christmas tree and there's a farm over there that Sasha's brother recommended."

Daryl perked up at the news. "Yeah, I know the place. It's out at Ole Man Weston's farm. His son runs it now and I came up with 'em back in the day. Don't tell him ya know me though, he might charge ya extra." Jimmy Weston was a shrewd, grumpy sum'bitch. They didn't dislike each other per se but the guy did have a deep hatred for his brother after Merle rammed into his brand new truck a few years ago.

Michonne laughed and Daryl brightened to hear it. "I can't imagine why he wouldn't be as charmed by you as I am. Besides, you're back to being a model citizen and who doesn't love that?"

He stopped breathing, wondering if it was the alcohol talking or if she actually meant that.

Nudging him with her elbow, she used his stunned silence to steal the cookie he'd grabbed from the plate they shared. He shook himself back into focus and poked her right back. But he reached over for a replacement cookie rather than fighting her over the one she'd stolen.

"I'm serious. He's got longtime issues with Merle. Can't say I blame him but guilty by association you know." That was the deal with a lot of people who knew his brother. He'd stopped trying to apologize and atone in place of him a long time ago.

Snacking on the cookie, she finished it and then grabbed for a piece of fruit. She'd gone quiet, deep in thought if he had to guess. "I was thinking that if you weren't busy, maybe you could join us?" There must have been an intense expression of shock on his face because she was then quick to backtrack. "I mean, you don't have to or anything. No pressure—"

"No, it's real nice of ya to offer—"

"You can say no, it's completely fine—"

"I don't want ya to think I aint grateful for—"

They stumbled over each other's words and then chuckled at how ridiculous they sounded.

Michonne put a calming hand on his arm. "I just thought it'd be nice to see a part of where you're from. I've never been to that town and it'd be useful to have a tour guide."

Daryl grinned. "It still Georgia. It aint the mountains 'a Tibet. And aint nobody gon' mess with y'all. I'll see to that."

When she beamed at him, it damn near sent him in a frenzy. He couldn't believe what a sap he was being tonight. Yet he was having a good time with her even given all the ugliness with Andrea and Phillip.

"Thanks. And my girls won't be a bother. They're very active but they're well behaved. I see to that despite their trifling father."

"Mama Bear don't play around, I see." She laughed again and it elicited a sense of pride that he could bring that out of her. "I aint got a doubt 'bout your gals being a couple 'a peaches."

She sighed and slumped heavily into the couch. "I feel like I need to apologize for before. I didn't mean to get all up on you like that. The whole situation with …" she waved her arms not wanting to finish the description. "That whole situation got to me."

"Aint no thing. Glad I was here." It warmed him that an amazing woman like her had relied on him when she was down. He hoped she'd do it again, not that he wished anything bad on her.

She swung her head over to meet his gaze. "I'm glad you were here too." Her gentle smile turned sly."

"What? I don't think I like that look from ya."

Again that made her laugh and Daryl figured he was on a roll. "I was thinking that you might just be my favorite client."

Daryl shook his head. "Yeah, for all 'a forty-five minutes. That hardly qualifies." Secretly, he didn't like the idea of her only thinking of him as a client, a past responsibility that she'd fulfilled.

"Hey, that was an important forty-five minutes!" He couldn't argue with that reasoning. "Seriously though, I appreciate your support tonight, Daryl. For keeping me entertained and saving me from the weirdo in the fedora and for making me feel better after dealing with jerks."

Hoping that the dark room hid his blush, Daryl ducked his head and reached for another cookie. Returning his attention to her, he caught her still gazing at him, amused over his embarrassment.

"My pleasure." He picked up his beer and held it out to her. She joined him with her glass of scotch and they toasted their newly-articulated and official friendship.

TBC …