Hi guys! Thank you so much for all your reviews for the last chapter! I would love to thank to all my readers and followers personally but I'm afraid I won't make it so thank you at least like this:)

This chapter is a bit weird and I am not quite certain about it - I originally started writing it as a completely different story, with different plot etc. but it has somehow turned into this sweet little nothing...I hope you will like it at least a bit!

Things were getting better and better and perhaps even developing. Both groups of survivors were getting on quite well and there were days, when they almost forgot that the Governor was still out there, most probably gathering another small army.

Things between Carol and Daryl were slowly developing too. Daryl had become withdrawn and hostile after Merle's death and it had taken great amount of effort, diplomacy and patience to break through his defenses. It had been Carol, who had walked him through this personal, self-torturing hell. She hadn't forced him to speak, hadn't pushed him to do anything he hadn't felt doing. She'd just kept bringing him food, informing him about developments in prison and most of the time she'd been just sitting quietly with him, both immersed in comfortable unforced silence.

When Daryl had finally come around, it was naturally Carol he'd sought out to release his fears and demons. They had talked for hours and after that Daryl had slowly started to integrate into the life in prison again.

The two of them were a puzzle to the rest of the prison residents. Nobody knew whether they were couple or not, they had never displayed anything in public. But if they were in prison together, Daryl could be always found in a few yards radius from Carol, and she had been always more relaxed and happier when he was around. Every time Daryl came back from hunting or run, he'd scanned the area and nodded shortly when he found her eyes, her head was already up, waiting for his greeting.

Carol smiled to herself. Daryl might have been oblivious to the gossips going around the prison about them, but she wasn't. And she would have lied if she said she minded. She knew that what she'd shared with Daryl was unique and she was enjoying every minute of it thoroughly. No man had ever treated her like this.

Even though there had been nothing going on the relationship level yet, she felt protected and comfortable when Daryl was around. His light touches on the small of her back when he opened the door, or his small smiles she knew he reserved for her, made her feel wanted and sometimes even loved. She knew other men from the prison were avoiding her because of Daryl, none of them eager to irritate grumpy hunter with the crossbow loosely swinging on his shoulder all the time. But as long as he kept turning down all flirty attempts from new Woodbury women, as long as his stares and fleeting shy touches belonged to her, she didn't mind. It felt damn good to feel needed by Daryl Dixon.

And Daryl needed her. He'd given up denying this fact a long time ago. He might have saved her from walkers outside the prison but she'd saved him mentally at least as many times as he had. He'd never hoped to have this kind of bond with anybody but his brother. She understood him, she didn't push him if she didn't have to, but scolded him if she felt it was needed...and she was usually right. But no matter what he did, she never repelled him, never thought wrong of him.

When his brother's death had shattered him inside and he thought he would never recover and would have to leave the prison, it had been her who had saved him, siting with him day and night, offering him everything she'd had. And when he'd finally broken, releasing all his pent up pain, stress and insecurities, she'd been there to hold him when he'd cried for the first time from Merle's death. But still, she hadn't thought less of him.

And God, she was beautiful! The more time he spent with her the more he started realizing this simple fact, which kept him alert till early morning hours, every time he wasn't strong enough or too tired to push these thoughts away. He admired her long graceful neck, the way she tilted her head when she was listening to him or the spray of freckles over her nose and shoulders. But most of all, he loved her eyes. Big blue ponds he was ready to drown in, which were as clear as summer sky and always told the truth, no matter how hard she wanted to hide it.

But he would rather die than tell her any of it, afraid he would destroy that unique bond they'd somehow created and he'd quickly become so addicted to. He knew she liked him and sought out his company but simple fact that he wasn't so familiar around women like her and most probably wouldn't have given her what she would have expected, kept him from taking their friendship any further.

The sound of breaking glass roused him from his thoughts. He jumped to his feet; the sound was coming from the dining area, where Carol was serving lunch to the elders. He burst into the room but stopped quickly and small smile tugged at this lips as he was watching frustrated Carol, patiently explaining to Mr. Johnson that the powdered potatoes with canned beans was all they were going to get for today's lunch.

Beth was walking by when he grabbed her arm, making the girl jump.

"Would ya take over servin' for Carol?" he asked.

Beth looked at him, then at Carol and back at him. She'd stopped trying to figure out these two a long time ago. She sighed and nodded, not excited at all by spending another hour serving lunch to moody elders.

Carol could sense him behind her, even before his hand lightly touched her shoulder. She could always sense when he was near, even if she didn't see him.

"Hell of a day?" he asked and she could hear the amusement in his voice.

She fought the urge to lean into his touch and closed her eyes exhausted.

"You have no idea..."

She was surprised when he grabbed her elbow and led her toward the exit.

"Come on."

"Daryl, what…I can't just leave…", she tried to fight him half-heartedly.

"Yeah, ya can. It's taken care of. Beth will finish it here."

She felt her fatigue going away, immediately replaced by excitement.

"Where are we going Daryl?"

"Hell out of here," he smirked and she followed him willingly.

She wasn't surprised when he led her to his bike. There were days he needed to get out as much as she did and it made her heart skip a beat when he'd decided to take her with him. When she positioned herself behind him on the bike and wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, she sighed in relief. It felt so right.

They rode for about half an hour when Daryl turned to the small gas station and killed the engine. Carol followed him inside and looked around.

"Favorite spot?" she asked.

Daryl nodded.

"I stayed here couple of times when the run took longer and I didn't wanna ride at night. Or came here when I needed the rest from all that bustle in prison."

He motioned her to sit down at the small table and went behind counter. When he reappeared again, he was holding a bottle of wine and bottle of whiskey.

Carol giggled and tried to sound indignantly.

"Daryl Dixon! You've got a secret alcohol stash!"

He just grinned at her.

"Ya tell anybody and I'll deny everythin'."

"Whiskey or wine?"

He raised his eyebrow when she pointed at whiskey bottle.

"Ya're full of surprises woman," Daryl said, pouring her a glass and handing it over, "but I guess ya deserve something stronger today."

He was right but Carol also doubted that the wine would be strong enough to divert her turbulent mind from the fact that Daryl Dixon had taken her to his secret stash and invited her for the drink.

They drank in a comfortable silence. Carol tilted her head back, enjoying the moment of peace, already feeling the effects of alcohol. Daryl watched her and gulped the rest of his drink, forcing him mind and limbs go numb and hopefully immune to her feminineness.

By the time they finished the second glass, Carol was feeling more and more relaxed but Daryl stood up and started pacing the small space capriciously. What the hell was he thinking, bringing her out here with him and offering a drink? He had problems keeping his hands off her in the prison when he was sober! He shook his head angrily, feeling her eyes on him. He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to gain needed self-control. He was not going to destroy their friendship no matter what. It was everything to him. She was everything, he realized disconcertedly, and no way he was going to threaten it by some stupid move.

She jumped when all of a sudden thunder rumbled outside and Daryl couldn't hold a small smile.

"Jeez woman, claustrophobic AND afraid of storm? Wanna tell me how ya managed to live through the end of the world?"

She glanced at him and smiled warmly, already feeling a bit tipsy and much bolder than usual.

"I can actually. For some strange reason one redneck has determined to save my sorry ass every time I run into trouble. And I'm doing my best to keep him busy."

"Nothin' sorry about your ass woman," Daryl felt his heart skip a beat as soon as the words had passed his lips.

He quickly poured himself another glass and knocked it back in one gulp.

He looked outside concerned. The last thing he needed was to stuck here with her because of some stupid thunderstorm.

Carol slowly and unsteadily stood up. He almost jumped out of his skin and his heart started racing when he felt her hand on his arm. He could see she was a bit tipsy, but her eyes were still clear and now full of questions and uncertainty.

"Why Daryl?"

"Why what?" he growled. He didn't want to sound harsh but it was the only way how to follow his original plan no to screw the things with Carol.

"Why you keep watching over me? Why you don't want to see anybody else around me?"

She was close that he could smell a light whiff of her lavender soap and it made his head spinning.

"Ya are part of the group. There's nothin' special about it," he said, diverting his eyes from her face.

"Really?" he felt the grip on his arm tightened, "so you wouldn't mind if I accepted Tyreese's invitation for a private dinner?"

Carol couldn't believe her boldness but the words were out now and all she could do was to wait for Daryl's reaction.

His head jerked up, he looked into her face searchingly and his own face darkened. Before he could burst out, she went on her tiptoes and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

"Or you wouldn't mind this?" she breathed into his ear.

Daryl froze. When she moved and kissed him fully in his lips and lingered there for a few seconds, his mind went blank, his limbs numbed and he just stood there with unreadable expression all over his face.

Carol pulled away quickly and looked into his eyes questioningly. He could see she was fighting a panic but she was still giving him a chance.

Daryl gritted his teeth. Not like this. He was not going to take an advantage of her when she was not sober. He was not going to let her do that and have her apologizing to him later, claiming all this to be a mistake. Their friendship was much more valuable than a quick pleasure the kiss would bring him.

Carol took a sharp breath and pulled away completely, suddenly absolutely sober. Here it was, finally she knew. He didn't want her the way she wanted him and it was suddenly as clear as day. She was sure that the only reason why he hadn't shoved her away when she launched herself on him was that he hadn't wanted to embarrass her even further.

She was desperately fighting the tears pricking in her eyes and she could feel that her chin started quivering. No, not that, she was not going to let him watch her self-pitying, ridiculous and pathetic outburst.

Before Daryl could react, she flew past him, opened the door and quickly ran out into the storm. She gasped when the sharp spray of cold rain hit her but she kept running. She could hardly see anything through the layers of rain and her own tears but she didn't care. She needed to get away from him as far and as fast as possible. She knew how irrational and dangerous it was but she couldn't help it, her body seemed to be moving on its own will. She knew she couldn't run or hide forever, but none of it mattered now.

She didn't see the first walker unless she nearly bumped into him. She gasped and stumbled back, drawing her knife in one swift motion. She buried her knife in walker's head and fell to the ground together with the mass of rotten flesh. She let out a muffled cry when she heard another groan behind her. She turned quickly and yanked away from the grayish hand trying to grab her. Before she managed to raise her knife to put down the second walker, the body collapsed to her feet with an arrow sticking out of its head.

She heard the swishing sound three more times and then she was looking right into furious face of Daryl Dixon. The heavy rain was muffling his swearing but she swallowed when she pulled her up and started dragging her back to the gas station. She couldn't recall seeing him so pissed before but somehow still found the courage to fight him and wrenched her arm from his grip.

He stopped and turned to her in disbelief. They were both drenched, Daryl's hair was stuck to his head and Carol could swear that if the look could kill she would drop dead in that very second. Still, surprising herself, she set her chin and shoulders hard.

She knew she was acting like sulky child but something in Daryl's possessive behavior made her mad, especially now when she'd made a fool of herself confessing her feelings.

"Let me be Daryl, just leave me alone!"

Daryl fought the urge to grab her and shake her and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Carol, stop this shit, let's go back! Ya will catch your death here!"

She crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him defiantly.

Daryl groaned.

"Drop this or I'll carry ya if I have to and ya are not gonna like it!"

Carol felt a new wave of anger rising up in her gut.

"You wouldn't …"

Before she could finish her sentence she heard another groan and suddenly she was flying. Without a blink she was firmly positioned over Daryl's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She was fuming, clenched her fists and started pounding his back angrily. She knew she'd already crossed the line and nothing really mattered anymore.

"I have never touched a woman, but if ya hit me one more time, god help me I swear I'll beat yer ass as soon as we get back!" Daryl's voice was so menacing that Carol stopped in the middle of her movement and unclenched her fists, feeling defeated.

When they finally got back, Daryl threw her down and barricaded the door. She squared off her shoulders, waiting for inevitable to happen. When he spun her around to face him, she swallowed hard. She'd personally witnessed several Dixon's outburst of anger but she knew this was going to be the harshest one. Carol was watching Daryl shaking with fury and she didn't dare to peep. She winced when he started yelling at her.

"What the fuck were ya thinkin'? Did ya lose your fuckin' mind? Why did you that? Ya wanna fuckin' die or what? 'Cause if ya want, I ain't gonna stop ya!"

Carol dropped her eyes. What she was supposed to say to that? She knew she had been acting silly and childish and put both of their lives in danger. But she couldn't have helped it, she was still having hard time to look into his face without blushing wildly and feeling ashamed.

She'd suddenly realized that Daryl had finished chewing her ass and was waiting for her reaction, panting heavily.

"Sorry," she mumbled, still not daring to look into Daryl's face, "it was stupid."

"The hell it was!" he snarled in slightly less vicious tone.

Daryl sighed, calming down slowly.

"Why the hell did ya do that?"

Did he really have to ask? She felt miserable and looked even worse, wet clothes sticking to her body and on top of that her teeth started chattering from cold. But she would tell him now; there was nothing else to lose anyway.

"Because I made idiot of myself and couldn't stand to look at you…still can't," she started explaining, her eyes fixed on her feet, "and I'm sorry for what I've done. I completely understand that the last thing you want is drunk woman to..."

She stopped when she heard Daryl sigh and felt blanket around her shoulder.

"Take off that fuckin' wet clothes or ya are really gonna catch your death woman," she heard him say, anger completely gone from his voice.

She mustered up her courage and looked at him sheepishly.

"Could we just ignore what happened and hour ago?"

Daryl's gut twisted and he sat down heavily. She was already sorry, exactly as he'd suspected.

"If ya want…," he did his best to push out the hurt from his voice but he didn't deceive her.

She looked into his eyes and unbelievable number of emotions mirrored on her face.

"If I want? Daryl….," she threw her arms apart, desperately looking for words, which didn't come. She didn't know what to think or what to say. Why did he look so disappointed?

Daryl cleared his throat. He owned her the truth. She'd deserved to hear she hadn't made fool of himself and he'd been just trying to make sure he wouldn't lose her.

"Carol...I don't wanna screw things up with ya by…," his determination was slowly slipping away as he was struggling with the words, "I mean ya are pretty much out of my league and I..."

"Screw things up by what?" her words were not more than a whisper.

Now it was Daryl's turn drop his eyes and he shifted his feet nervously.

"By making some stupid moves. I don't wanna ya to be sorry later…I don't think I could give ya what you expect and what ya deserve…ya can do better."

Daryl finally finished, even slightly impressed with himself that he'd managed to get it out of his chest.

His breath caught in his throat, when she suddenly moved closer to him, leaving hardly any personal space between them. He absent-mindedly wrapped the blanket around her shoulders more tightly.

"Don't you think I should say something to say to this too?"

She gently traced her fingers along his jaw and forced him to look at her.

"You have already done so much more than I expected or deserved Daryl," Carol whispered, forcing her voice not to tremble. She wanted to pull away her fingers from his face but his hand shot up and held her palm in place.

She swallowed and closed her eyes for a second; it felt like crazy heart wrecking déjà vu.

"The only thing I would be sorry for….if we both feel something and let it pass because we are still afraid...," she finally said it but her courage had left her completely and she was shaking badly now.

She was totally unprepared for his lips crashing against hers with force that almost knocked her off her feet. But his hand was already wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly in place. She couldn't help moan escaping her lips and Daryl squeezed her even tighter and leaned her against the wall. The sensation, which overwhelmed her made her knees weak and her hands instinctively went to Daryl's hair, tugging there.

He smirked.

"I said take off that fuckin' clothes woman!"