A/N: Felt like injecting some loving here, so you've been duly warned. This is a smut alert … Happy reading!

Daryl leaned in the boys' cell doorway as Carol tucked the triplets in their bunk beds, brushing their hair out of their faces and kissing their cheeks.

Greyson had nearly fallen asleep during dinner while Bowen and Jamison entertained everyone with their version about the day's events. They were turning out to be a regular comedy act as they dramatically described in detail how they took down walkers.

Carol had refrained from palming her forehead in public, mortified at her sons' antics. Daryl, on the other hand, had smirked at the scene unfolding in front of him

He reminded his wife later as he helped clean up the kitchen that their offspring were 4-year-old rednecks through and through. How else did she expect them to act?

She expressed her concern that the boys might become reckless when around walkers if they considered each kill an accomplishment and tried to show off or impress others with how many they impaled.

He countered that the boys had done what was needed to protect each other and he didn't foresee them acting like killing walkers was an exciting adventure. He told her if they ever exhibited such behavior, he'd whip them on the spot and make sure they understood it wasn't a game.0

When Carol exited the boys' cell, Daryl slid an arm around her waist. He guided her to their own cell and dropped the door sheet before spinning her around and backing her against the concrete wall.

His eyes were dark and predatory as he caged her between his forearms and pressed his body against hers, the evidence of his desire heavy against her abdomen.

She opened her mouth to speak but before she could utter a word, he slanted his mouth over hers.

Carol's eyes drifted shut as Daryl hungrily kissed her. His tongue hotly battled with hers.

Her hands made their way up his chest and around his neck, plunging them in his hair. He dropped his hands from the wall to capture her hips and lift her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist. The shift in angle elicited a muted moan from both of them.

He trailed his lips across her jaw and downward, causing her to lean her head back against the wall and softly whimper. He sucked and nipped along her neck and shoulder then covered her mouth with his again while he ground himself against her.

Daryl abruptly broke the kiss, laying his forehead on hers. He helped lower her feet to the floor long enough for them to shed clothes before he hoisted her up again.

Carol locked her ankles at the small of his back and he drove hard into her, stifling his groan in the hollow under her ear. She clung to him, her fingernails biting into his shoulders as she rocked into his pounding thrusts.

She soon found herself flying over the precipice of ecstasy and bit her lip to keep from crying out as her body spasmed around his. He followed suit, pumping the last of his seed into her with a deep-throated growl.

He braced his body against hers to keep them both upright using the wall as support until their breathing slowed.

Once he had regained enough strength to stand on his own, Daryl collected Carol in his arms and carried her to the bed. Together they collapsed onto it, him wrapping his lethargic body around hers.

"I'd never let anything happen to ya or them boys," Daryl mumbled.

"I know, Pookie," Carol softly replied, snuggling into him.

Mid-afternoon the next day, Merle and Michonne made it back to the prison in one piece with a couple of the requested medications for Maggie.

Glenn actually hugged Merle in thanks, which the brawny redneck ended quicker than lightning, muttering under his breath. Michonne witnessed the exchange with taciturn delight.

During the course of the trip she learned the man really did have a soft spot for the prison community as a whole.

Sure he tried to act rough and tough but she saw straight through him. It was evident he truly cared about what happened to his brother as well as all the people his brother now considered family.

"Whatcha grinnin' at, missy?" Merle gruffly asked as he passed by Michonne carrying a couple of boxes for Daryl and the boys. He had found some spare parts for the motorcycle in their travels as well as hunting supplies including a jerky dehydrator that could be plugged into a generator.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"Why does Mama call ya 'Pookie'?" Jamison asked as he chewed on some deer jerky his father and uncle were working on.

Daryl's ears reddened as he stared at his youngest. Merle snickered and leaned back to watch the show. Daryl cleared his throat and hastily tried to think of an appropriate answer.

"Ya know how yer uncle calls ya 'rugrat'?" Daryl asked. Jamison nodded. "It's like that. Yer mama gave me that nickname 'fore ya were born."

"Just like Uncle Merle calls Mama 'Mouse'?" Jamison asked, turning his head toward his uncle.

It was Merle's turn to redden. He had been calling his sister-in-law that for so long, he didn't realize the boys had picked up on it.

Daryl snorted, holding back a laugh while giving Merle a pointed look.

"Yeah, exactly like that," Daryl said.