A/N – I know, I know. Last chapter was tough because Carol turned him down… but keep in mind that these two are both socially stunted. He doesn't know how to say what he wants, any more than she does. We know what he wants because he's all internal about it. And you're right if you think she's not thinking straight – she's not. But oh, don't worry, she will. :)

Hope you like! Thanks for the reviews!

Chapter 10

Carol was enjoying the new arrangement. She found herself humming that morning in the kitchen as she made breakfast. Hershel was so much more comfortable with them being there now; he'd been letting her use his kitchen for meals every day for the past two weeks. The group was still sleeping outside, in the RV and in tents – but it was just a matter of time before he invited them all inside to stay.

The good thing about the sleeping arrangements was that she'd developed a system so that she could see Daryl every night and no one was the wiser. It was easy once she'd gotten Hershel's okay for her to have control over the kitchen. Patricia could cook but she wasn't the best at it, and Maggie and Beth didn't seem to want to be bothered. Lori was still sick every meal so she was out as an option. Andrea contributed plenty as it was. And that left Carol, who was more than happy to take on the job.

And once she had control, it became up to her to make the meals and she volunteered to clean as well. "It's easier, Hershel, that way I always know where everything is," she'd said.

She was never more grateful for those late night clean-ups in the kitchen… they gave her the perfect excuse to be late into the RV. And being late to the RV gave her the perfect opportunity to go to Daryl's tent to see him before she went to bed and he went for his shift at watch.

She still wasn't really sure what to think about what they were doing. But she liked that he made it easy not to think about it. After they had their talk in the basement, she'd been sure he'd change his mind. He'd decide that he didn't really want to keep messing around with her. Because that's what they were doing – messing around. But he hadn't changed his mind. She didn't want to define what they were. It was easy to be with him, easy to just let them be what they were – friends, a kinship, with something a little extra, an added benefit.

Ed was all she'd ever known, the only man she'd dated, the only man she'd been with… and he'd been an asshole, a catastrophe. She'd let him talk her into a relationship, into something that happened so fast it had stripped her of everything she was. She knew in her heart that Daryl was different, that he was going to take anything from her, that if anything – he'd only give her more to build upon. But her head was wary, her head was too vocal with her fears and it drowned out the soft meek voice of her heart.

She'd thought for sure Daryl would push her, or drop her… but he didn't. He was just there, holding her in secret when she needed to be held but couldn't ask, and clearly loving her when she wasn't ready to love back. Or at least… when she wasn't ready to admit that she loved back.

The first night after their talk that she'd gone to him, creeping into his tent in the dark, she'd been sure he'd snap at her about her hesitation, at her sneaky but outright refusal to tell the world that she cared for him. Or at the very least for her creeping around in the dark by herself. But he'd seemed to expect her when she'd come , his mouth had been just as desperate for her as hers had been for him, as they'd found each other in the dark, clinging like teenagers as they stripped each other of their clothes and explored parts of each other they'd merely deflected off of previously.

She'd seen all of him at one point or another during that first night, during that second time in the tent… but she hadn't been paying attention. Not like that night two weeks ago after they'd agreed that their arrangement would be just sex, clandestine sex in the dark of the night… that night, she'd let her fingers explore every inch of him, and she'd been putty in his hands as his own fingers danced their way across her body. She knew each scar intimately now, knew the bend of each ridge beneath the pads of her thumbs, beneath the wet warmth of the tip of her tongue. She knew that he'd held his breath as her mouth moved to the largest scar on his chest, as she kissed it, as her tongue caressed its jagged beauty.

They had been together every night since for two weeks. She'd clean up as quickly as possible, move around the back of the house in the dark until she made it to his tent, and crawl inside where he'd be waiting. There was always touching of some sort, but not always sex, and she enjoyed the lying with him in comfortable silence just as much as she enjoyed the tumultuous coupling that left her panting and smiling with satisfaction and delight.

The door opened behind her and she turned, the smile fading from her face when she saw it was Shane. She'd felt his eyes on her during breakfast the past two mornings. She'd been cooking, her back to the dining room where everyone else had been eating, and she'd felt the heat of his gaze on her backside. When she'd turned, he hadn't even had the prudence to look away.

"Mornin' Carol," he said breezily as he stepped inside.

She smiled reservedly, and wiped her hands on the dish towel hanging off the handle of the stove. "You're early… it's not ready yet."

He was across the room, in her space, with a matter of steps, and she swallowed her worry in a futile attempt to make herself feel better about his unwanted proximity.

He smiled, his eyes a bit blank as he stared at her, "That's not a problem, I'll just keep you company as you cook. You're looking rather happy these days… it suits you." He stretched a hand out, brushing the back of his hand against the side of her hip as she quickly sidestepped away, and grasped the dish towel pulling it free of the oven handle and using it to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Shane…," she said but was interrupted by movement outside the door. Daryl stepped into view through the window and she caught his eye. She felt relief flood through her and she couldn't stop the small smile from creeping across her lips as the door opened and Daryl stepped inside. As if on cue, Shane stepped back, out of Carol's personal space, his head turning, his eyes cold and hard on Daryl as he nodded a sharp greeting.

Daryl raised his chin and eyed Shane, before switching his eyes to Carol and giving her a small half-smile. "Coffee?," he inquired and she nodded, her lips spreading into a smile as all her discomfort with Shane faded from her thoughts.

She turned away from the two men and busied herself getting a mug and pouring the coffee, and she felt the rush of air as the door was opened and heard the bang as it slammed shut a little too forcefully. The shaky breath that left her was one of relief as she knew instantly who had left the cozy little kitchen in that moment.

"Ya a'right?" His voice was low and close as he must have stepped up directly behind her, and she nodded, grasping the warm mug in her hands and turning into him, facing him, so that they were inches apart, his eyes searching her face.

"I'm fine. He just… I don't think he means any harm."

Daryl took the mug from her grip, raised it to his lips and took a long swallow. When he lowered the mug, his eyes were on her again. "I don't trust 'im," he murmured softly before turning away and moving back across the kitchen to the other wall at the sound of Hershel and Beth coming down the stairs.