I'm slowly getting through all these chapters! :) This one has been rewritten.


Chapter Twelve

For some reason, the ride to Carol's house seemed much shorter than usually and Daryl pulled into her driveway with mixed feelings of disappointment and relief. Disappointment because Carol would no longer be wrapped around him as they rode and relief because he had began to run out of things to think about that didn't involve Carol in anyway. There had been only so many ways he could kick Ed's ass and he definitely didn't need another truck incident. Once had been enough.

After he parked the bike and kicked down the kickstand, Daryl wanted for Carol to untangle herself from him. Without trying to think too much into it, he couldn't help but feel Carol's reluctance as her arms and legs unwrapped from around his body. Her legs seemed shaky as she dismounted and she stumbled slightly when she tried to take a step. Daryl grabbed her arm to steady her so she wouldn't fall.

"Thanks," she smiled. "I guess I'm not really use to riding one of these." It had been her first time on a motorcycle; of course she hadn't gotten use to it.

Daryl remained straddling the bike and leaned his forearms against the handlebars. "And you probably never will. I doubt Merle will let me ride it, again. It ain't often he's in a good mood like he was this mornin'. Somethin' must have happened when he went to the bar last night," Daryl said the last part more to himself now that he had thought of it.

Daryl was going mourn the bike. Not so much of the driving it, anymore, but because now, he wouldn't have an excuse for Carol to curl around him.

"That's shame," Carol frowned and poked in the shoulder. "You looked so badass riding it."

"Pfft," he snorted with a roll of his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. I always look badass."

Carol laughed and took a seat on the concrete of her driveway. "Whatever you say, Daryl." She winked and pulled her knees to her chest. "So, what do you plan on doing today?"

"Well," he swung a leg over the bike, so he was no longer straddling it and leaned his elbows on his knees. "I have to fix my fuckin' truck. Especially since I know Merle ain't goin' to let me ride his bike tomorrow."

"Hm, sounds interesting." Carol rocked a little back and forth, biting her lip. "Can I come over?"

"What?" Daryl was startled. Carol never asked to come over. Not because she didn't want to, though. He knew that. So, he found it odd she was asking, now.

"You heard me." She refused to look at him and was biting a little harder on her lip, waiting for his answer. Daryl was afraid that she would draw blood if she kept it up.

"Why the hell do you want to come over?" He was still having a hard time understanding her request. She had been over, once, a few years ago. They hadn't even gone inside. Daryl had been too embarrassed to show her the shithole he lived in. She hadn't seemed to mind and they spent most of their time walking through the woods in the back of his house. When Daryl knew his brother would wake from his nap, soon, he had decided that it was time for them to leave and they had wound up at Carol's house.

She shrugged, still refusing to look at him. "It's boring at my house. All I do is eat, read or watch TV when I'm there alone." Finally, she made eye contact with him, looking hopeful. "I can help you fix you truck?"

"And what do you know about fixin' cars?"

"Well, um. Nothing." Carol went back to biting her lip. "But." She stood, so they were face-to-face, now. "I can help pass you tools and stuff. Get you a drink, if you need it."

Daryl's mind began to wonder. Maybe she could wipe the sweat from his brow or help him unbutton his shirt if it got to hot...

Quickly, he jerked his head to the side and cursed his brain for putting those images in his head. God, at this rate, Carol would definitely be the death of him.

Fuck. Now, she was looking at him with her doe eyes. Carol rarely used that look, since she saved it for occasions like this where she wanted him to do something he didn't want to do. And he gave in. Every. Single. Time.

"Fine," he mumbled, giving in. "Just let me call Merle to make sure my pa isn't home." He stood up from his bike and made sure it didn't fall over before he followed Carol into the house. Daryl liked that Carol hadn't asked why he needed to make sure his pa wasn't home. She already knew why and didn't judge him for it.


Five minutes later, Carol found herself on the back of the motorcycle, once more, with her arms wrapped around Daryl's waist and her legs squeezing his thighs. One of her fingers slipped through the gaps of Daryl's button up shirt and she felt his stomach muscles tense under her finger. Quickly, she withdrew her hand, not wanting to cause him to get into an accident and thankful, that he couldn't see her flaming face.

Resting her cheek on his back was the only way to keep the flying strands of her hair from hitting her in the face. She knew she should have grabbed a ponytail while they had been in her house, but she liked being this close to Daryl and it gave her an excuse to be.

Daryl tensed, again.

Carol furrowed her brow. What was wrong? Sitting up straight, a piece of her hair flew into her mouth and she unwrapped an arm to remove it. Daryl immediately took one hand off the handlebars and grabbed her free wrist and placed it firmly back on his waist.

"Don't let go," he shouted over the roar of the bike. "I ain't goin' to scrap you off the street!"

Instead of feeling chastened, Carol just smiled and placed her cheek back on his back.


Merle walked out the front the door the moment he heard Daryl pull in on his bike. Daryl saw him and groaned. He knew that Merle was home, since he had called earlier, but he hadn't planned on him being around when he brought Carol over.

"Well, hello there, little brother!" Merle smirked and leaned against the hood of Daryl's truck and watched the two of them. "I thought you were pullin' my leg when you said you were bringin' your pretty friend over." His eyes slid over to Carol, who had just stepped off the bike. This time, her legs weren't so shaky.

"Hello, darlin'." Merle had eyes only for Carol as he took a step closer.

Crossing her arms over her chest, where Merle's had been just a few seconds before, Carol glared at him. "Hello, Merle."

Daryl looked between the two and swung his leg over the bike, standing in the middle of them. However, he might as well have been standing a mile away as far as Merle was concerned.

"So, you finally figured out that you couldn't resist ol' Merle, huh?" He took a step back to lean against Daryl's truck once more. 'I got myself a pretty nice room inside, if you want to take a look. I've been told I got the comfiest bed this side of Georgia. Want to test it out?"

"Merle!" Daryl hissed, angry. He hadn't expected Merle to go that far when it came to Carol.

"What, bro?" Merle faced him, unperturbed by his angry younger brother. "If you ain't goin' to hit that, then someone else should. Her ass is too pretty to go to waste."

She ain't goin' to waste! Daryl wanted to shout, but didn't want to embarrass himself. Or Carol. Instead, he threw Merle's keys at him. "Here's your fuckin' keys. I'm goin' to the shed." He stomped off and didn't even look to see if Carol was following him. But he did hear an extra set of footsteps behind him and knew they weren't Merles'.

He slowed his furious pace and waited for her to catch up.

"Sorry about that," he muttered when he saw her from the corner of his eye. "I should have made sure he wasn't home, too. I didn't think he would bother us." It was Merle, though, and he should have known better.

"It's all right, Daryl." Carol's voice was soft. Soothing. "He's harmless, anyways."

Yeah, maybe when he was sober.


"Is this the thingie you need, Daryl?" Carol made a face as she held up a wrench. She stood by Daryl's open tool box "Or is it this?" She held up another tool in her other hand.

Daryl rolled his eyes and reached for the wrench. "I probably would have been done with my truck an hour ago if I didn't have to wait for you to give me the correct tools!" His head disappeared into the hood of his truck and he began tinkering away.

"Hey!" Carol protested as she placed a hand on her hip and glared at his back. "I wouldn't have a problem finding the damn things if you had told me what each one was!"

His head reappeared with grease streaked across his cheeks and forehead. "I did!" He scowled. "It ain't my fault that you got distracted by a pair of fuckin' butterflies."

"Hey!" She cried, again, and crossed her arms. But soon huffed in defeat and said quietly, "I like butterflies."

Ten minutes later, Daryl finally hopped into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. The first try, the truck's engine revved and then, sputtered and died. The second time was much different, though, and his truck roared to life. He couldn't suppress a smile of pride. He had fixed his truck all on his own.

He rolled down the passenger window and called over to Carol, who was smiling as he truck continued to run. She looked just as proud of him as he felt. "Get in," he said. "It's time to take you home." Daryl didn't know when his pa would be home. He was very unpredictable and there was no way in hell Carol was going to be there when his daddy decided to pull in. Buck Dixon didn't know about Carol and Daryl was going to keep it that way.

She nodded and climbed into her usual spot. "You know," she said as they pulled out of his driveway. "I still haven't been inside your house." Her tone was casual.

Turning his head to look out the back windows as he backed up, Daryl replied, "You don't want to be in there. Merle's got his shit spread out everywhere and my pa leaves empty beer bottles all over the tables and floor." The place was really a mess. The only decent room in the house was his and it just so happened that it was the one room in the house he wanted to bring Carol...and not for reasons she'd probably want to hear.

Christ. He was becoming just as bad as Merle.

When they pulled into her driveway, she climbed out of the truck and he was about to back up when she tapped on the window. He rolled it down, trying to look stern.

"What do you want, now?" The corners of his lips lifted slightly, putting an end to his charade.

"I almost forgot." Carol leaned her elbows on the window and smiled at him. "My dad is off Thursday and he's taking me out to the city for dinner. He said I should ask you to come along. So, do you want to?"

Daryl snorted, he couldn't help himself. Did he look like someone who would go into the city and eat in some fancy restaurant? Hell no.

"Naw. Merle would probably give me hell if he found out." The excuse came unbidden to his mouth and he winced. He seemed to always use Merle as an excuse for something.

Disappointment flickered across her face. "Fine. Then, I guess, I could ask Milton to go. I'm sure he would be happy to."

An unexpected wave of jealously coursed through Daryl and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. So, just because he couldn't go, she was going to ask someone else? But he was her best friend.

"Fine. I'll go," he mumbled. This time, Carol hadn't even used her puppy dog eyes to win him over. What was wrong with him?

Carol beamed. "Really?" Just as quick, the smile on her face turned into a frown. "But what about Merle?"

"Fuck 'em."

Carol's face lit up, again. "This is great! I'll tell you more about it, tomorrow. Bye, Daryl!" With a wave, she walked away from the truck still smiling.

Fuck. What had he gotten himself into? Eating dinner with her dad at a nice restaurant? How was he going to face the man, especially with his recent thoughts he'd been having about his daughter?

At least, he had a new pair of pants to wear.

He was so fucked.


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