Happy Monday everybody! Don't let this cold weather get you down! Have an amazing week!

"Don' wanna go to this fuckin' party, Georgia Rayne," Daryl's voice was barely above a growl.

"But you will, Daryl Dixon." She replied. She was sitting on her bed and he was laying on the floor. She was carefully painting her toenails a strange shade of purple that matched the purple shirt she had on. Daryl was avoiding looking at her too closely. She was wearing a purple shirt and a pair of purple boy cut panties. Merle'd call him a faggot if he knew Daryl wasn't soaking in the sight of Georgia but Daryl couldn't give a shit less. Merle didn't matter as much when he was around Georgia. She continued, "Wanna know why you will?"

"Why's that?" he grumbled.

"Because you are my best friend and I am your best friend and I need to get my mind off of dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole." She grinned teasingly at him. He glared back. He hated dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole and she knew it. Daryl hadn't liked the douche since the moment he'd strutted over to the table where Daryl and Georgia ate lunch every day, sat down, and asked her if she wanted to ride in his cherry red Mustang. To her credit, she'd grinned at him and informed him that she was riding home in Daryl's rust red Chevy. But he didn't give up on her and, within two weeks, Georgia was dating dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole and, two months later, she was crying on his shoulder about how dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole broke up with her because she wouldn't 'put out.' Two hours after that, he had slashed all the tires on dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole's cherry red Mustang and left a dead opossum in the back seat, just for a Dixon special touch.

"Ya been broken up for a week an a half now. Ain't off yer mind yet?" He frowned.

"Well, Mr. Dixon, he would be off my mind if he hadn't approached me yelling about a dead opossum he found in his Mustang."

"He yelled at ya?"

Georgia rolled her eyes and informed him, "You are coming with me to this party tonight and we are going to crash there, because we are going to get so drunk we can't see straight. Then, we're going to come back here in the morning, take showers, and go get breakfast."

"I don' have the…"

"Daryl, breakfast is on me for you being my chauffeur."

"Ain't right, me always taking money from ya."

"You don't always take money from me, Daryl. When you have work on cars, you're always paying for me. Now come on. I'm going to get my skirt on."

He watched her from the floor while she got up from her bed and hobbled over to her dresser, careful not to smudge her toenail polish. She shimmied into some kind of jean skirt and sat down to do her makeup while Daryl lay on the floor. By eleven o'clock that night, he was leaning against the door frame to somebody's kitchen, nursing a beer in his hand and watching Georgia laugh with a couple of her friends. Some leggy scrawny chicks. He sighed as Georgia looked over at him and stuck out her tongue. She loved doing shit like that. Teasing him like she did.

He was really drunk but she was really hot. Why didn't he notice that all the time? That little purple shirt she was wearing hugged her in all the right places and her skirt was slowly inching up as the night went along, showing more and more of her legs. Georgia noticed him staring and began making her way over when she was stopped by a friend of dick-face-what's-his-name-Eric-asshole. Daryl watched as she stared up at the guy and then frowned. Her eyebrows furrowed together over those coffee dark eyes and her supple mouth turned down. Daryl stood up off the wall and took a step forward. He didn't want Georgia to be uncomfortable so soon after the break up. But apparently he didn't have to worry about it because she drew her knee up into the guy's groin and hissed something at him before stumbling her way over to Daryl.

"Daryl, you're the only guy in my life that's not family and not an asshole," she sighed as she leaned towards him. She was already close. Closeness didn't bother either of them. After having somebody stitch you up so many times, closeness was just a part of the two of you. But she'd never been close to him and looking up at him the way she was. Her eyes were heavy lidded and her lips were parted a little bit, letting her breath drift out softly.

"'m still an asshole, Georgia Rayne," he protested.

"But you're good to me, Daryl. And I do care for you so much."

He nodded and hated the blush he felt creeping up his face. She stared up at him for a long minute and he felt even more awkward. He sighed, "Georgia Rayne, what're ya doin'?"

"Thinking about kissing you," she answered simply.

"But…"

"Shut up and lean down here. You're too tall to make this easy for me when I'm drunk."

She grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to press her lips softly to his.

Daryl woke up to the sound of DJ whimpering in his sleep. He looked around the tent and realized Georgia wasn't there. He remembered she'd had watch duty and would be gone until first light. He sighed and rolled over to go back to sleep, but the sound of the boy making strangled scared noises kept him awake. He sighed and sat up, trying to ignore the ache in his side. He hissed, "Boy, hey, boy. Wake up."

It didn't work. Daryl thought back to the first night DJ and Georgia were in his tent. She had to shake the boy to wake him up out of a nightmare. He slowly made his way across the tent and used his foot to nudge the sleeping child. The boy didn't wake up so he nudged him a little harder. It wasn't a kick, because Daryl knew he'd never kick a kid, but it was hard enough to wake the child up. The kid rolled over and stared up at him with sleepy eyes and, for a minute, Daryl was reminded of waking up to Merle kicking at him, telling him to get his ass up and do something. "Ya…uh…ya alright, boy?"

"Where's my mom?" he asked hoarsely.

"She's on watch. Back in a few hours."

"Oh." The boy lay back down and rolled onto his side.

"Ya need anythin' kid? Anythin' I kin do?"

"Mister, don't think I'm rude, 'cause Mom taught me not to be rude, but I really don't think I should ask you for anything."

"Why's that, boy?"

"Because you don't even want us around half the time. You fight with my mom every chance you get and sometimes I think you hate the both of us, even if Mom says you're not a hateful person. I like it here and you're the reason we get to stay here. I don't want to ask you for anything. Mom and I can take care of ourselves. Just thank you for bringing us here."

"I…I don'…" The words stuck in Daryl's throat as he looked at the back of the child. The kid that should have been his. The kid that replaced his own child in Georgia's belly. He sighed, "I don' hate ya or yer momma. I jus….I jus don' hate ya."

Daryl went back to his side of the tent and rolled onto his side with his back to DJ. After a few minutes, he called out, "An if ya wanna learn ta hunt, I'll take ya when my side gets better. It'll be good for ya. To learn to feed yer momma, in case anythin' happens to me an I can' take care of ya."

"Thank you."

"Yer welcome, boy."