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The fuck she mean? A date? It was just an expression, right? She hadn't actually meant that it was a real date. Did she?

"Dixon! You plan on actually doin somethin? Or ya just gonna stand around, fuckin daydreamin?"

Daryl nodded to the fat contractor and swung the sledge hammer at the remaining wall. This shit was confusing. She was confusing. Did she actually want this to be a date? With him? He momentarily wished Merle was there so he could ask him about it, but then he remembered who Merle was. His brother didn't "date" women, especially not women like Carol. Merle picked up skanks in bars, they'd get high together, fuck, and then he would kick 'em out.

Daryl was ashamed to admit it to himself, but he was a little glad Merle was in prison right now, he would have taunted Daryl mercilessly if he had been around. 'Where ya goin lil brother? To that woman's house again? When ya gonna learn, huh? She don't want you…you jus a stupid hillbilly that knows how ta fix shit.'

He'd spent the rest of the day trying to decide if this was actually a date, he decided it probably wasn't. But he cleaned out his truck and bought a new shirt, just in case it was.

Daryl pulled up to her house at seven, the time she had told him to be there. He was going to do this right, he would be there on time, he'd even planned on opening the door for her but before he could get out of the truck she was already hurrying her way down the path from her house. She was waving and smiling and he was pretty sure she was trying to kill him. She always looked good but tonight she was wearing a tight black top with a low neckline that offered a rather generous view.

Carol jumped up into the old pickup with a grin, "Hey!"

Daryl nodded to her, "Hi…you…uh, you look real nice," he was nervous and it showed, but he wanted to compliment her.

His half mumbled praise had been enough to put a wide smile and slight blush on Carol's face, "Thanks."

Daryl awkwardly cleared his throat, and took off, heading to a nearby bar. The drive was silent, Daryl's knuckles tight on the wheel while Carol looked out the window, smiling at the buildings gliding by. She had hoped the shirt would catch his attention, but honestly didn't expect him to actually say something, she bit down on her lower lip, fighting the Cheshire like grin. His eyes had gone wide and his jaw dropped a little before swallowing hard and stumbling through the quiet compliment. After the first few visits to her house, Carol had a slight inkling that Daryl was attracted to her, she just wanted confirmation, wanted to know that it wasn't wishful thinking on her part.

The second they walked through the door, Carol knew why he had chosen this particular hole in the wall. Despite it being a Friday night, the dive had few patrons, several people were scattered along the bar and only a few tables were occupied. The fewer the people, the more at ease he was. He could have taken her to drink around a trash can fire with hobos and she would have been content, she was just happy that he was putting forth the effort.

They claimed a high top table toward the back of the bar, near the pool table. She slid into her seat with a smile while he stood, looking at her expectantly, "Beer?"

She was taking in his appearance, he once again wore a button down that had managed to keep its sleeves, it was a light shade of green that complimented his skin tone, "Yes, please."

Carol took the opportunity to glance around the room while Daryl ordered their beers. It was mostly older men that populated the shabby watering hole but in one corner was a table of college kids that more than likely had come here knowing their fake ID's wouldn't get a second look, and then at the far end sat a table that just screamed trouble.

Daryl returned with the beers and took the seat across from her. He sat quietly sipping his beer, unsure of what to say, luckily, Carol took the lead, "So how was work?"

"S'fine," glancing at her quickly before looking away.

"Is Norman feeling better? I felt terrible, making him sick like that," she knew the questions were trivial but she needed to get him talking, knowing he took a bit to warm up to conversation, especially since they weren't in the safety of her kitchen.

"Yeah, he's alright."

A few more silent minutes passed, she tried to keep the frustration at bay but he didn't make things easy sometimes. Carol downed the rest of her beer, hopping off the stool, "Come on Dixon, show me whatcha got."

Daryl was confused at first, then realized she was heading to the pool table, he let out the breath he'd been holding. This was good, he could handle this, talking was optional if they had something else to distract them. His relief was short lived as he watched her lean down, taking the first shot, cleavage clearly visible. This was bad.

Carol stood upright, leaning on the cue, obviously pleased with her break, she smiled mischievously at him, "Your turn."

Daryl finished off his beer, a cocky grin appearing, "Watch and learn, sweetheart."

Several games later found Carol feigning innocence, voice playful, "Now, tell me again, what is it I'm supposed to be learning?"

Daryl glared, still attempting to win at least one game, knowing his efforts were in vain, "Well ya didn't tell me you was a fuckin' pool shark!"

Carol was laughing wildly at the hunter's indignation, "You never asked! You just ASSUMED I didn't know what I was doing!"

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped, "Bullshit! Ya said ya only played a few times! Thought you's just havin' beginners luck but your ass been hustlin' me all night!"

She still couldn't stifle the giggles, "Ok ok! So I may have told a teeny little fib! As reparations, I'll buy this round."

"Yeah reparations, my ass," forcing an outraged look onto his face, "I'ma take a piss."

Daryl watched her walk up to the bar before heading to the restroom, not bothering to hide the smile on his face. He never expected sweet, little Carol to beat him at pool, normally he got pissed when people beat him at things but he really didn't mind losing to her, even if that meant putting up with all the gloating.

Carol was waiting for the bartender to return with her beers when she noticed someone approach her from the side, he leaned against the bar and looked her up and down, eyes stopping on her breasts momentarily, "Well well, you are quite the lady."

She let out an annoyed sigh and continued looking forward, hoping he would just leave after being ignored. He, of course, did not.

"That mean lookin fellar yer husband?"

"No."

"Yer boyfrien' or somethin?"

"Or somethin'," Carol bit out dryly, thinking he might finally take the hint, he didn't, he was persistent.

She turned to look at him, trying not to laugh at his ridiculous mustache, "Listen…"

Before she could finish, Daryl appeared at her side, standing much closer than normal, "There a problem?"

He had immediately looked toward their table upon exiting the bathroom but didn't see Carol, he then looked up at the bar, where he found a very irritated looking Carol talking to one of the men that had been sitting in the corner when they got there. Jaw clenching, fists balling at the sight of the scumbag hitting on a clearly not interested Carol. His anger reached a fever pitch when he saw the man's eyes land on Carol's chest. He stomped toward the bar, face distorted in rage, coming to a stop slightly behind her.

Fear was visible on the man's face but he didn't give up, "Jus' havin' a chat with the lil lady, is all."

"Yeah, well, she don't wanna talk to you," Daryl's chest was now against Carol's shoulder blade, he didn't miss the way she leaned against him slightly.

"Hey brother, aint tryin ta cause no problems," the older man held his hands up defensively.

"What's the issue man? This guy startin shit?" One of the mustached man's friends had wandered over, clearly set on adding to the confrontation.

Daryl stepped in front of Carol, giving her a gentle shove back, away from the two men, "Aint no problem as long as yer boy here leaves 'er alone."

Without warning, the newcomer swung at Daryl, a sickly crunch was heard followed by a gush of blood from his nose. Daryl seemed unfazed and lunged for the man, getting in a punch of his own. He even managed to land a punch on the asshole that had been hitting on Carol before returning his attention to the larger man. The two were brawling for several minutes before the rest of the guy's group drug him away, an uncommonly large black man stopped in front of Carol, giving a soft, "Sorry ma'am," before heading out with the group.

Carol grabbed a towel from behind the bar, pushing Daryl onto a bar stool, she held the rag up to his nose, attempting to stem the flow of blood. He gave a soft grunt at the pressure, "Asshole sucker punched me."

Carol was still fussing over him when two of the county's deputies walked in, someone had obviously called the police during the fight. Carol's eyes landed on her neighbors face, "Too late now, they already left."

"Carol? What the hell you doin here? We got a call 'bout a fight."

Rick Grimes had moved down the street from Carol a month after Ed died, his wife had become a fast friend and his son got on well with Sophia. He was a kind man, devoted to his family and his job.

Daryl was starting to get riled up again, "Son of a bitch took off," he was attempting to yell from beneath the towel Carol had firmly pressed to his face.

"Hey Carol."

Carol rolled her eyes at Rick's partner, who was standing with his chest puffed out, hands resting on his gun belt, "Hi Shane."

After an hour of going through every detail and explaining what had transpired, Carol and Daryl were finally able to leave, the two officers continued taking statements from the bartender and other patrons. Shane eyed Daryl as they walked out of the bar, his disdain for the redneck visible. Daryl just gave a bloody snarl in return.

Carol had walked to the driver side of the truck, demanding the keys. Daryl sent a glare her way, "What the fuck you doin?"

"I'm driving. Give me the keys. No arguments," her posture meant business.

Daryl knew she wouldn't give in so he just tossed her the keys, grumbling as he climbed in the cab of the old Ford. The drive held a tense silence, he could tell she was mad. He felt guilty for upsetting her but he couldn't just let the punch go, the guy was an asshole, plus Daryl had pent up frustration he wanted to get out, the fight had been the perfect opportunity. He never would have considered himself a jealous person, but then again, he'd never had anything to be jealous over. Seeing that creep try to pick up Carol had set fire to his blood, an unknown anger rushing through him. While pondering the nights events, he hadn't noticed the truck come to a stop outside Carol's house. She hadn't said a word the whole way back, so he was surprised by her sharp, "Come on."

She walked into the house, leaving the front door open for him, he debated whether or not to go in. She was upset and he probably wouldn't make things any better. But he decided it would be worse if he just left. He slowly made his way into the house, fearing what was to come.

Daryl found her in the kitchen leaning against the island, she hastily wiped away tears once she noticed him, "Go on, you know the routine," indicating that he sit on the countertop.

He couldn't remember feeling worse in his whole life, he had upset her, made her cry. His dumbfuck self had made this beautiful and kind woman cry, his chest tightened at the sight of her tears. What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn't deserve to be around her, she was too fuckin good for him.

He pulled himself up onto the counter, wordlessly, unsure of what to do or say. He watched her as she began unbuttoning his blood-soaked shirt with trembling fingers, too ashamed of his behavior to even try stopping her. He would let her do whatever she wanted right now, she could rip his heart out and he wouldn't bat an eyelash. He just sat and watched as she silently cleaned him up, she wiped the blood from his chest and face, and then butterflyed the small cut above his eyebrow.

She continued standing between his knees, chest rising and falling rapidly, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I was so scared, I…"she let the sentence hang, unable to finish.

Daryl couldn't bring himself to look at her tear streaked face, his head bent, not knowing where to begin. He had scared her. He had fuckin scared her. Like her asshole husband. In that moment, he wanted to die. He had never felt so ashamed.

"You could have gotten hurt much worse. They could have killed you, there were so many of them and they could have ganged up on you. They could have seriously injured you, " Carol was babbling through tears.

His head shot up to look at her in confusion, "Huh?"

"There were five of them Daryl, if they wanted to they could have killed you. You're lucky you only have a few scrapes and bruises. I was so scared that they were gonna hurt you," another sob escaped.

She was scared they were gonna hurt him? She wasn't scared of him? That's what she was so upset about? Him getting hurt? He was hit by a wave of confusion. No one had ever cared about him, if he got hurt. No one had ever worried about what could happen to him. He was certain no one had ever cried for him.

He peeked at her hesitantly, "You wasn't scared of me?"

Carol had been trying to collect herself, knowing her hysterics were making him uncomfortable. She was wiping at her eyes, sniffing quietly, "What? No! Why would I be scared of you?"

Daryl ducked his head again, "I dunno. Jus' thought that's why you so upset. Thought maybe I'd scared ya, fightin' like that."

Carol instantly regretted all the tears and immediately felt guilty for her silence, she'd just been so upset. Now she understood his skittish behavior, he had thought she was afraid of him. He was worried that he had scared her at the bar.

"No. You didn't scare me Daryl," she tried reassuring him.

"M'sorry," he was looking up from below his wild hair, still unsure of the situation.

"Daryl, you have nothing to be sorry for…Really….I'm actually sort of flattered," she admitted sheepishly, "Never had anyone defend my honor like that before."

Daryl looked up, a shy smile forming, facing turning red, "Yeah?"

Carol nodded, still wiping at her face, and stepped back, giving a laugh, "Yeah."

Daryl gave a wry chuckle, "Guess I aint too good at this whole date thing huh? Ya ended up cryin' again."

A smile bloomed across Carol's face, "I don't know, wasn't too bad. I had fun kickin your ass at pool."

Daryl let out a full belly laugh for once, "Yeah…ya did beat me pretty good…I mighta won if ya weren't wearin that fuckin shirt though."