Chapter 11

Daryl threw the bag containing his greasy burger and fries down on the table next to his cup of soda. Stripping off his jacket, he wrapped it around the back of the chair so he could sit and tear into his lunch.

As he ate, he thought that he probably should be going over the progress reports Michonne had dropped off this morning in preparation for their monthly department meeting. He'd taken to letting her do all the talking since he hated those things, but she'd let him know in curt, vaguely threatening terms that she wouldn't be picking up his slack today. He partly deserved her annoyance since he had been taking advantage of her a little. More compelling, though, was that she'd come into work with a lingering cold and didn't feel 100% well. How could he argue with that?

When she'd dropped off the reports and their accompanying files, she'd seemed worn down. Yet she assured him that she looked worse than she felt; he sassed her anyway for not taking more time off. Her voice had taken on this tone even deeper and huskier than usual, and her nose held an irritated reddish tint from all the nose-blowing. She'd flopped into the chair in front of his desk and laid out her ultimatum about the meeting, looking every bit her usual intimidating self, despite the sniffling and coughing. He felt bad seeing her in such a sad state but he also found it a little bit cute.

Anger at himself quickly flared at that thinking. Noticing all the ways she made his insides get all twisted had started getting out of control.

He decided that he'd power through lunch and then review the summaries at his desk afterwards. He'd focus better that way anyway. Knowing her work, it wouldn't take long for him to get through the summaries, as she knew just how to get all the right information to him with as little fuss as possible. She had good instincts for what details needed refreshing and what he had a good grasp of already. They knew what worked best at this point in their relationship—their working relationship, of course.

Their personal relationship on the other hand was … complicated. They were friends, and had a deeper intimacy than with most other people that surrounded them. The two of them joked and argued and broke down ideas like he did with Rick or Glenn or Hershel. Yet sometimes he and Michonne would get around each other and "flirting" was really the only word to describe their behavior. He'd tease and she'd tease back; they'd do little favors for each other; sometimes she'd rest a hand on his arm and he'd let her. Whether they acted out of kinship or attraction remained a difficult question—and one that didn't need solving anytime soon so far as he was concerned.

He dropped his gaze and focused on his meal, tuning out all the idle chitchat around him. People were friendly at the company and he tried to make an effort to get to know a few folks here and there, but the other employees tended to leave him alone if he looked like he didn't want to be bothered with company.

Most people anyway.

He had heard Carol walk up behind him so it wasn't a surprise when she sat down to join him. It's not that he really minded either. She usually made for good company. With her being so busy lately, it'd been a few days since he'd gotten a chance to check in with her.

"Hey," she said. He nodded to her in return around the fries he'd just stuffed into his mouth. "Long time no see." Nodding again, he took a sip of his soda to wash his food down.

"Been crazy 'round here lately."

"No kidding," she agreed. "Evaluations are the worst sometimes. With all the new people here, it's taken longer than I figured. It's a good thing, though." She poked around at her leftovers. "How's it going with you?"

"It's fine. Been dealin' with a lot of foolishness I'm used to Michonne handlin' but there's nothing I can do about that."

Carol eyed him carefully. "How's she doing? I noticed she came in this morning even though I told her to take it easy when I checked on her the other day."

"Yeah, you and me both. Damn woman's a stubborn one. Might make her go home early today 'cause she still don't look right to me." As the day had gone on, Michonne dragged slower and slower. When the staff meeting ended, he planned on laying down the law and dragging her home himself if he had to. He couldn't have her running herself ragged and making herself even more sick.

"Good. She'll certainly listen to you more than anybody else." Carol scrutinized him again and it started to make him nervous.

"Don't know about that. Rick'd be the better one to convince her. Or Hershel. Hell, even Carl's got more sway and I'm her damn boss."

Carol shook her head. "Are you kidding me? Nobody besides you can get her to do something she doesn't wanna do." Sipping at her bottle of water, she paused before speaking again. "Has she signed the contract yet?"

Daryl flashed her a look that screamed 'what do you think?' He didn't bother to respond, else he might get to cussing about the matter. He didn't understand what she was waiting for. All her stalling did was make everyone nervous. Make him nervous.

"Well, keep working on her. Speaking of which, she said you dropped off some soup and snacks for her over the weekend. That's awfully sweet." The grin she tried to suppress annoyed him. If she had something to say, he wished she'd spit it out. That's why he didn't like people knowing his business—they wanted to hold it over your head all the time.

Trying not to let the warmth to his cheeks spread, he wiped his hands on his jeans and leaned back, picking at his fries. "Wasn't no thing. I knew she didn't have nobody lookin' after her, and the sooner she gets better, the sooner I can stop doing her job and mine."

"Right, because that's the only reason you drove all the way out to The Diner for Susie's special soup and then picked up supplies and medication for her. Twice."

"How you know all this?" Michonne was even more private than he, so Carol's knowledge of the details to his visit sounded suspicious.

"Let's just say that our friend is a lot more forthcoming when you catch her drugged up on cold meds and vulnerable. She said you hung out at her place and let her teach you how to fix ginger tea the way she likes it. She got worried that all the exposure would make you sick too so she asked me to keep an eye out."

Even laid out with a cold and Michonne's worried about other people being looked after.

Truth was, before he'd stopped by her place, he'd hoped she'd let him give her a hand without too much of a fuss. She'd looked so pitiful burrowed in bed, nose red and skin dull and gaunt from days of coughing and inactivity. It's not like she had family or friends coming by to check on her, and she could be so damn difficult about accepting help. Standing at her kitchen counter as she directed him in making her favorite tea felt satisfying and relaxed. Normal. When he'd finally brewed it to her specifications, he'd sat and watched football with her as she drank it.

Spread out across her couch, Michonne's socked feet pushed into his thigh. Yet he pictured her turning around to snuggle into his side instead, like they'd done that night after leaving The Cabin. He'd put his arm around her and pull her closer, stroke her hair and comfort her despite how awful she felt. As the afternoon turned to evening, he'd hold her and brush kisses along her fevered forehead; fetch her medicine and tissue boxes whenever she'd ask, and eventually he'd learn to make her more tea without needing her to voice the request. Then he'd allow her to burrow back into him when he'd return from finishing her errands.

And maybe he wouldn't let her go after that. Maybe they'd decide that it might be nice to stay this close with each other all the time. She'd agree to stay at AGD indefinitely and they'd do something about him not being her boss anymore.

Or, as it really turned out, she fell asleep on him, and he'd crept out of her apartment after tucking her in, feeling disappointed but also a little relieved. He'd left her a thermos filled with another batch of tea at her bedside. This scenario pleased him too in a way.

The memory of that night and the pleasure it brought up must have shown because Carol now smirked at him as if she'd discovered all his secrets. He returned her attention for a few moments and, in a rare show of defeat, looked away with a blush to his cheek.

"I'm fine. Aint no cold germs gonna slow me down"

"Oh you're fine alright." Carol said with her usual flirtatiousness as she laughed at his discomfort.

She enjoyed pushing his buttons and he let her because they had it like that. But sometimes she could go too far and he hoped now wouldn't be one of those times. There were the days she loved to remind him of the way that they'd sort of danced around each other at one point in their relationship. Carol had been interested but Daryl hadn't been ready for anything romantic. Over time, they'd kept that closeness but the attraction had passed and they'd settled into a nice friendship.

She stirred at her food without taking a bite. "When are you gonna just, you know…"

He stiffened. "I don't even want to know what you're thinking." However, it was too late for that and they both knew it. She'd been needling him for weeks about whether he and Michonne had grown closer on all those long, solitary trips they took around the area. She liked to point out that when he and Michonne handled business, it often ended up being only the two of them, alone together for days with nothing to do but get to know each other better. Since they came back getting along like gangbusters, she figured things had to be running smoothly, if not turning into something more.

If only she knew that they'd had their moments. It didn't change the fact that he and Michonne worked together and were friends, and their unspoken agreement was that it would be better if things stayed that way.

"I only want you to be happy, Daryl. You can't always run from stuff like this. It's not good for you." Carol hovered her attention over him and tried to wait him out, staring with those piercing, knowing eyes of hers.

This was one battle of wills she would lose though. "Stop," he said, balling up his napkin. The one word sounded almost desperate to his ears, as if he'd crack if she kept picking at him. Things between him and Michonne were good, and he didn't need anybody coming in and making things more complicated. He already felt things he probably shouldn't from time to time and encouraging that wouldn't end well the way he saw it. Those things never did with him and he didn't ever want things to be weird with Michonne.

"Surprised you're tryin' to start stuff on this, you being HR and all. Aint there 'bout 25 regulations in the sexual harassment policy against gettin' too friendly? Or did I sit through that boring-ass training for nothin'?"

Carol shrugged. "You're right." Daryl smirked at making the point. "It's easy enough to fix though. Rick and Hershel have been looking to reorganize so we both know she won't be working under you for too much longer with the way things are going. She doesn't need you to look after her like that anymore. Now there may be another kind of supervision you could help out with though…" He glared at her.

They sat in silence with Daryl stewing about the idea of him and Michonne not working together anymore and also from Carol's pushiness. He sipped at his soda, shoulders sagged but not meeting Carol's direct, unspoken gaze. Finally, she let it go.

"Alright, be like that." A grin played at her lips and it relaxed him when he saw it. Then her grin turned into a smirk and Daryl figured that maybe he'd jumped the gun thinking she was done teasing him. "Well, look who's here?"

Turning around towards the entrance, Daryl caught Michonne shuffling in, steel mug in hand and bypassing the food line to go straight to the pantry area. She fiddled with the electric kettle, shaking it and finding it empty. Even from across the room, he could feel her irritation. She trudged over to the sink and refilled it, setting it back on its stand and pushing the buttons to activate the heating function. She leaned against the wall as it hummed and whirred, idly preparing her tea as the water heated. She wasn't paying attention to anyone else in the room, not even to take in her surroundings—that's another way he knew she was still recovering because that girl always had an eye on everybody. He doubted she'd even seen him or Carol finishing their lunch a few feet away.

He swiveled back around and gulped down his soda. Carol continued to pick at her food, watching him and judging something she didn't seem keen to share. She didn't have to because he knew she was dying to comment on his attention for their friend.

Daryl wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Instead of checking on Michonne as he wanted, he leaned back and leisurely sipped the rest of his soda. Meeting his stare, Carol recognized the challenge and remained chewing her food in silence. It turned into another standoff between the two.

It was killing Daryl to have his back to Michonne's movements, but he wouldn't let Carol's nosiness unnerve him. He heard the whistle of the kettle and the quick cutting of sound as she switched the machine off. He assumed she was fiddling with her extras—a creamer and two spoonfuls of sugar for her black tea. He'd learned that from all their shared breakfasts on the road. She mentioned that she needed to stay away from dairy while she was sick so she better not be going crazy with the creamer. And why didn't she just send one of the admins down for her damn tea anyway? She was supposed to be taking it easy—that's the only way he even agreed to let her to come in today instead of pulling rank and insisting she take another sick day. If Hershel knew she was here, he'd guilt her right back to her apartment and into her sick bed faster than she could spit.

Clenching his hand around his cup, he watched as other people in the room chatted or gathered up their things to leave. Some were reading or working, no doubt trying to meet some deadline. Daryl crossed and uncrossed his legs at the ankle and silently fumed as Carol calmly finished her lunch and waited him out. When he thought he heard Michonne's slowed footsteps retreating, he gripped his cup even tighter and it crunched beneath his fingers.

Carol laughed. "Daryl, go. Go check on her. I won't tease you for it, I promise."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her but remained seated. She said that now but she wouldn't be able to resist bringing it up if she actually witnessed him running after Michonne to mother-hen her.

"I'm serious. I know you guys have your meeting later so you need to go anyway." She gathered up her things and cleaned up after herself. "I'm leaving too so we can just leave together and you can't say that I'm pushing you."

Sighing, he picked up all his trash, a pile of crushed paper and condiments, and headed to the recycling station with Carol at his tail. "Fine but I aint goin' after her. I'm just done with lunch and got a lot 'a stuff to do."

"Whatever you say," Carol said right back. When they got to the stairwell, she turned to head back to her office while he opened the door. He frowned and poked his head in to make sure Michonne hadn't used that route and over-exerted herself. Finding it clear, he nodded at Carol and swung a small wave at her.

"Hey," she called back to him. "Tell her to call me later. I need to follow up on some things with her."

Daryl paused. "What things?" He didn't trust Carol one bit when she got like this. If she was trying to plant crazy ideas into his head, there wasn't no telling what she was whispering in Michonne's ear.

Carol rolled her eyes. "Confidential things. Don't worry about it, just pass along the message."

He puffed up his chest and tried to regain his casualness. "Well, I'll tell her at the meetin'. You know, whenever I see her next."

Taking in his posturing, Carol opened her mouth and then closed it, shaking her head. "Whatever, Daryl." Despite his coyness, they both knew that he wouldn't be just hanging out until the meeting. He was certain to stop at her office to check on her before returning to his own. In Daryl's mind, this façade they were keeping was necessary though.

Whatever might happen with Michonne, he'd get to it in his own time.

TBC...