It really hadn't been that long since the group had eaten around a table, but it felt like it. Lori, Patricia, and Liz had cooked a massive breakfast to refuel and refresh the group after the previous evening's draining events. Dale's funeral was still ahead of them, and everyone would need their energy to get through the sorrow.

"This feels like a feast," Carl exclaimed, popping half a muffin into his mouth.

"Manners," Rick growled.

Carl nodded, his cheeks puffed out and full of food. He let out a muffled "Sorry," and sprayed crumbs all over the table.

Everyone chuckled.

"I didn' eat this good back when the world was okay," Shane said through a mouthful of hash browns. "Took the end of the world to eat like a king! Well done, ladies."

Patricia nodded, but didn't smile at him. Liz ignored him all together, earning a nod from Carol.

"We've earned it," Andrea said, reaching out and touching Shane's arm. He easily brushed it off and dove back into his plate.

"I'm sorry," Hershel said, glancing around at the group. "I should have brought you inside a long time ago."

"Well, you brought us in," Rick replied. "That's what matters, and that's more than we could have asked. Thank you."

Everyone held up their respective glasses and toasted to Hershel over fresh orange juice.

Carol reached over and grabbed Liz by the shoulder. "Hey. You don't look so good."

Daryl's eyes flicked to Liz. She was pale and her eyes looked glassed over. She'd looked better, but he'd also seen her looking worse. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Daryl had grown overly fond of the girl; a much deeper emotion than the initial interest he'd had in her from seeing her on late night shows and in magazines. During the week plus she'd stayed in his tent, he'd gotten used to her quirks and come to find them endearing. Now, as he watched her squirm uncomfortably, he worried. Flu? Food poisoning? Something else? His stomach flipped as a realization dawned on him. Something else.

"Must have eaten some rotten fruit yesterday," Liz replied uncertainly. Her stomach was churning. She excused herself from the breakfast table and strode outside. "Just gonna get some fresh air."

"Does someone want to-" Lori started. Carol began to rise, but Daryl stood first. "Got it."

Maggie raised an eyebrow at Glenn as a sly smile crept onto her face. "What a nice guy," she said, before turning and winking at Beth, who was pouting.

Andrea made a face from across the table. "To her, maybe. What do the rest of us have to do to get a little attention from him? Even a word?" She snorted and took another piece of quiche. "Whatever. We can't all be famous. I guess that's his thing."

Carol tutted. "She hardly acts like she's famous. Don't be jealous. I talk to Daryl all the time. Maybe it's you."

"Let him chase her," Shane cut in, speaking over Carol. "She'll have him running in no time. Girl's a pistol. Should have seen her in her teenage years! Rick, am I right? How many nights did we have to chase that girl down or chase off whoever was infatuated with her? She's a professional heartbreaker and I wouldn't have her any other way. C'mon, Rick, you knew her just as well as me. Back me up."

Rick grinned. "I don't know. I think Daryl could keep up with her."

Shane suddenly scowled. "She won't have that, no sir-ee. I know my sister. Taught her all the same defensive moves I know. No one's gonna push her around." He bit off a piece of fresh baked bread and chewed noisily. "She ain' gon' let the likes of him hang around. She knows better. Got better taste." She's mine, he thought angrily, glaring across the table at his former partner. His gaze then shifted to Lori. What does Rick know, anyway? He's just like Daryl- trying to take what's mine.

"It's none of your business, what she does." Carol said breezily. "So there's that."

Lori nodded to her and raised her glass again. "There's that. "

****

Outside, Liz was doubled over near the fence. She'd thrown up the breakfast she'd managed to eat, yet still she heaved. Beads of sweat formed on the back of her neck. The heat's getting to me, she thought, wiping her face. That's all. I'm not infected. I'm fine.

Daryl strode over and stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed in his pocket. "You all right?"

"Not in the mood for a chat," Liz panted. A moment later, she bent over and gagged again, coughing up yellow bile.

Without hesitation, Daryl reached out and pulled back her hair. "Damn, girl. Well, get it out." As she retched, he patted her back. "There you go."

When Liz stood upright, she wiped her mouth and nodded at him. "Ugh. Thanks." She spit and cleared her throat. "I came out here because I didn't want anyone to see that." She scrunched up her nose at him. "So, that happened."

"You pregnant?" Daryl blurted, looking her up and down once.

"What?" Liz put her hand on her sore stomach.

"You were fine an hour ago. This morning sickness?" He shifted his weight. "If T wasn't playin', and we hooked up at the CDC, you could be pregnant." He shifted his weight back and watched as Liz's face portrayed several different reactions at once.

Finally, a grin broke through on her face. "Is that the only reason you kept looking out for me and moved me in with you?" Liz popped her hip out and crossed her arms. "And here I thought you liked me."

"So you are?" Daryl exhaled sharply, then nodded. "All right. Okay."

"No! I'm not," Liz said plainly.

"Are you sure?" Daryl studied her face. "You can tell me. You should tell me."

"I'm positive." Liz shrugged. "It must just be the rich food making me sick. I don't know. I'm not pregnant. Don't worry." For some reason, she'd never given any thought to whether or not she could be pregnant after T revealed that she'd slept with Daryl. Bigger things to worry about, she figured.

Daryl nodded and was shocked to find himself feeling slightly disappointed. Don't be stupid. Having a baby out here is suicide. Having two newborns in the group at once? Damn near impossible. "Okay. Well, good." He turned back for the house.

Liz watched in disbelief as he walked away."So are we going to talk about this now?"

Daryl looked back. "Talk 'bout what?"

"The CDC."

"Nothin' to talk about," Daryl said, not stopping. He felt heat rise up his neck and creep into his cheeks.

"There is!" Liz exclaimed. "Do you regret it- sleeping with me? Are you embarrassed? Are we together? I have a lot of questions! You're so stubborn, I haven't been able to bring it up and figure out what's going on." She immediately regretted bringing up the topic after throwing up in front of him, but it had been gnawing at her for days. "Daryl! Talk to me. You came out here because you thought I was having your baby, and now that I'm not, you're just leaving?"

Closing his eyes and sighing, Daryl turned around. "Fine." The irony of the situation hit him for what seemed like the hundredth time since they'd arrived on the farm. Here was the country's hottest celebrity, nagging at him for smoking, leaving her girl shit all over his tent, and staring at him with that look. He'd inadvertently fucked her and now she was demanding answers. Before the switch, if someone would have told me this would happen, I'd bet everything I owned that they were full of shit. He sucked in a breath. She was smart. She was kind. She tried to do the right thing. He was stupid to leave her hanging. He was even stupider to think that she was asking him this because she had feelings for him.

Liz tapped her boot on the ground impatiently. "Well? Thoughts?"

"What do you want?" he replied.

"I want to know what you want. Tell me what you're thinking, for once. You're the least reactive person I've ever met," Liz exclaimed. "When T said we slept together, you stormed away like you were mad at me about it. You're still acting mad about it. Why? Am I that bad? I thought you might be," she caught herself before she finished the sentence with "in love with me." She tried not to blush, but felt it happen anyway. "Maybe you felt something between us."

Guess it's now or never, Daryl thought. "I ain't the kind of man who just has his way with women. I ain't like that. I ain' Merle. I was drunk. I shouldn't have done it to you." He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "You don't deserve that. You deserve better." He racked his brain, but couldn't come up with the right thing to say, or much of anything to say.

Liz blinked and registered the words. When she spoke, her words were disjointed and as unorganized as her thoughts. "'Done it to me?' No, you didn't- it was what I want- wanted, I'm sure. But, so...?"

Damn it. Where was he going with this? "So what do you want?" Daryl's nostrils flared and he crossed his arms to mirror hers.

You, Liz thought immediately. Instead, she looked at the ground between them and shook her head. "I, I, nothing. Just thought you were mad. But I'm not pregnant, neither of us remember that night, so I guess that's that." She forced a smile and tried to gauge Daryl's reaction, hoping that's what he wanted to hear. She fidgeted with her hands and bit her lip.

Daryl nodded once and tried to determine whether her obvious nervousness was because there was more she wanted to say or because he was making her uncomfortable. Opting for the latter, he turned back for the house. "I'll see you aroun' later."

"Thanks for babysitting me while I threw up," Liz mumbled under her breath. She massaged her sore stomach and watched as Daryl leapt up the porch steps, glancing back at her momentarily with a pained look on his face before letting the screen door swing shut behind him.