Song of the Day: Georgia Rain- Trisha Yearwood

Sorry it's been so long since I updated again! I just honestly have had a lot of other stuff going on with EMS and home life but...here's more for you :)

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Daryl paced back and forth along the railings of the guard tower, eyes scanning the edge of the woods and the bank of the river. But he wasn't truly thinking about his duty as guard at the moment, his mind was flooded with images of that morning's breakfast as a group. He'd woken up in a sour mood, which probably had something to do with the previous day's encounter with Michonne in the woods and the fact that he'd let himself get so close to her AND the fact that he'd finally accepted in his mind that she was beautiful and that he would do her in a heartbeat if the opportunity presented its self. He was still trying to wrap his backwoods-raised, redneck, past racist ideals filled mind around this fact and all the thinkin' and reasonin' was wearing on his nerves.

He'd been the second one into the kitchen that day, only Carol was up earlier than him so she could actually MAKE breakfast before everyone woke up.

"Good morning, early bird," she had teased him, smiling that Carol smile at him as he awkwardly made his way to stand by her. "Breakfast isn't ready yet, you could have slept longer, you know?"

"I was already awake anyhow," Daryl muttered, but yawned despite his words. "Can I...uh, help somehow?"

Carol laughed and grabbed his elbows, turning him around and marching him to the table where she gave him a little shove. He shrugged and sat down in the chair she'd aimed him for.

"I've got it covered," she said happily, "Lord knows if there's one thing I can do for this group, it's cook!"

"Don't be so hard on yerself," Daryl said, yawning again, "You do plenty. Hell of a lot more than Lori ever does."

Carol looked over her shoulder at him in surprise but he saw the amusement in her eyes and despite their best efforts, they both started to laugh.

"Oh, Daryl, you're really pretty funny when you want to be," Carol wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as she stirred the scrambled eggs in the pan. "I bet Michonne thinks so too."

Daryl jerked his head up the mention of her and Carol's eyes got an odd twinkle in them. A proud one, if Daryl read it right.

"You know she was smiling an awful lot after you guys got back from hunting," Carol's voice was full of suggestion and Daryl found himself blushing despite his best efforts, and it was not missed by her knowing eyes. "What exactly happened out there?"

"Nothin'," Daryl muttered. Carol poured him a cup of instant coffee and poured herself one as well then came to sit with him at the table while the eggs simmered in one pan and the frozen sausage patties browned in another. She took a sip and smiled across the table at him.

"Come on, Daryl," she rolled her eyes, "I wasn't born yesterday. SOMETHING happened in those woods."

Daryl ran a hand through his hair and chewed his bottom lip, avoiding Carol's eyes at all costs.

"I...I mighta...kissed her..." he finally owned up.

"You mighta?" Carol prodded. "Or you most definitely DID?"

"I fuckin' kissed her, alright?" Daryl growled, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Carol looked far too happy for his taste she stood and checked the breakfast but she came right back, clutching her coffee cup like a stereotypical gossip image.

"So then what?" she asked, excitement in her voice and eyes.

"Nothin' happened," Daryl said, and he actually allowed himself to sound disappointed because he knew there was no fooling this woman anyway.

"But you WANTED it to happen?" Carol wiggled her eyebrows as she took another sip of coffee.

Daryl shot her a glare he kept in his arsenal of angry looks that he reserved specially for the worst offenses...but she didn't even look concerned. He slowly felt the indignant rise of his imaginary hackles start to lower and he finally just sighed and looked over at the stove.

"Shouldn't you be cookin' and mindin' yer own business?" he grumbled. Carol did stand up to check the eggs and flip the sausage but she was back in a flash, leaning forward in her 'I'm listening' way.

"What exactly are you expecting me to say?" he asked in exasperation, taking a gulp of coffee.

"The truth, that's all," Carol said simply.

Daryl knew there was no winning. Carol had this uncanny ability to read him like an open book and he could almost feel her mind burning into his as she stared at him, waiting for him to speak.

"Fine, you want the truth?" he muttered, glancing at the kitchen doors to make sure the coast was clear, "I DID want somethin' to happen out there...but she...we decided it was a bad time."

Carol seemed a little shocked by that news.

"So...whoa, wait, you two almost...?" she seemed a little shaken, but then she collected herself and grinned madly, "This is progressing much faster than I thought it was!"

"What the fuck are you on about?" Daryl asked, but the kitchen door flung open and a half-awake Glenn came stumbling in, followed by a yawning Maggie and T-Dog rubbing his eyes. Daryl shot Carol a look that stated very clearly that this conversation was not over but he kept quiet and took another drink of coffee while the others began pouring in.

Michonne walked in moments after everyone else and her eyes immediately found his, and she smiled boldly as she took a seat straight across from him with her coffee, she peered at him over the rim of the cup as she drank. He was a little bit unnerved by the unflinching gaze but he just wiggled in his seat a little to relief some of the nervous tension that had worked up in him. All through breakfast she shot him little smiles and coy looks and, one time, a wink.

And that wink was what he couldn't get out of his head now as he leaned against the railing, his eyes locked on a crack in the cement of the guard tower. He watched as a bug crawled up along the crack and curled his top lip angrily as he tried to figure out the cause of Michonne's behavior and Carol's statement. Finally, the bug disappeared inside the crack and he scuffed his boot on the walkway in frustration and growled low in his throat. He pulled the collar of his vest-made-jacket up around his neck as a gust of autumn wind made its way through the prison, it chilled him to the bone for some reason and he made his way inside the tower to get out of it. He plopped into the swirly, yet sturdy, reclining office chair and leaned back, propping his boots up on the desk.

"How's it goin' over there, Dixon?" his walkie talkie crackled to life and Andrea's voice filled his ears. He sighed and lifted it to his mouth as he pushed the button.

"Goin' just fine," he drawled lazily, "A little nippy out there though."

"I hear that," Andrea agreed, "Hey, I really gotta pee, so I'm gonna go in for a bit. You ok to handle this side on your own?"

"Blondie, who do ya think yer talkin' to?" Daryl almost snapped, but he managed to reign it in and keep it teasing.

"The great and powerful Daryl Dixon, of course!" Andrea schmoozed, "Ok, I'll be back in a bit."

"Hope everything comes out alright," Daryl stated.

"Fuck you."

"You're not my type, but thanks for the offer."

The crackling stopped and Daryl grinned, knowing he'd won that particular round of sarcasm. He set the walkie talkie back on the desk and scanned the tree line and riverbank once again before letting his eyes drop closed as he listened to the sound of the wind picking up, it started to make a whistling noise through the small cracks in the window seals. But inside, the wind couldn't get at him and he mentally flipped it off with a smile.

"What are you smiling about?" Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice and he spun the chair around quickly. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Michonne leaning on the doorframe of the room, a wide smile on her face.

"You wanna close that door, Rosa Parks?" he said in annoyance, the cold wind was slowly creeping in through the open door. Michonne squinted at him funny, but stepped in and shut it behind her.

"What's with the nickname there, Jethro Bodine?" she asked.

Daryl wanted to smack himself but he settled for a hang of his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I'm just feeling kinda grouchy. Didn't mean to insult ya or nothin'."

"It's not an insult," Michonne said with a shrug, "She was a very awesome woman."

Daryl was relieved at her statement and he smiled.

"Yeah, she was that," he agreed. He'd always liked the story of Rosa Parks...not that he EVER let it be known among any of his relations. "Strong woman."

Michonne just stood there staring down at him, her arms crossed just under her chest, looking thoughtful.

"You like strong women, huh?" she asked unexpectedly.

Daryl was a little taken aback by the question but he thought about it seriously for a moment.

"Yeah, I guess I really do," he finally said, "Ya know, one who can take care of herself. That way I know if I'm gone, she'll be fine. Plus, they ain't afraid to get their hands dirty."

With that being said, Daryl turned and scanned the tree line once again, eyes peeled for movement of any kind. But it was calm as usual, nothing came out of the trees, nothing came over the riverbank. He sighed and leaned his chin on his palm as he rested his elbow on the desk.

"So, what brings you up here?" he asked Michonne, for the sake of starting a conversation, breakfast had slipped his mind until that moment and now it was back again and his curiosity urged him to speak.

The answer came not so much in words as it did in actions. Daryl felt himself being swiftly spun around as Michonne pushed one arm of the chair and he came to a stop facing her. He didn't even have time to say a word before her mouth was on his, cutting off anything he might have been inclined to say. Daryl's eyes widened for a moment before he smiled and let himself go with the flow, eagerly reciprocating the hungry kiss.

"Oh...that's why," he breathed out when they parted, grinning like a fox.

"So, I've been thinking about yesterday morning," Michonned said slowly, quietly, "And...I wanted to let you know that...I'm ready when you are."

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he even dug his right pinky into his ear and asked her to repeat herself.

"I said," Michonne leaned forward, her nose only inches from his, "I'm ready. Whenever you're ready."

"How about now?" Daryl couldn't help the bubble of excitement that rose up in him, she was making the first move, which he was dreading having to do, "Now's good?"

Michonne actually laughed out loud at the hopeful look on his face and she placed her hands on either side of his face as she reclaimed his mouth. Daryl wondered if this was her way of saying yes...

"Not here," he heard her say quietly when they parted, "At least...not everything."

"What's that mean?" Daryl asked, cocking his head like a dog.

Michonne slid down him, kneeling off to his side, and smiled up at him. Then, to his surprised and utterly shocked delight, she moved around till she was in front of him and gently gripped his knees, pushing them apart as she moved forward, putting her body between them.

Oh good Lord, I'm dreaming this...this is just like that one dream...c'mon Daryl, enjoy it while it lasts because this will NEVER happen in real life.

"What are you thinking about?" Michonne asked gently, seeing the outward expressions of the inward discussion on his face.

"Just...I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming again," Daryl replied honestly.

"Again?" It was Michonne's turn to look confused.

"Yeah," Daryl sighed, "This seems to be one of those recurring dreams. It never finishes though."

Michonne laughed again, her grip on his knees slid upwards until her hands came to the button and zipper of his worn and tattered cargo pants and she went to work undoing both without any hesitation. Daryl let his head drop back and his eyes flutter closed as he relaxed beneath the movements of her fingers as they worked the material open. He took a short, sharp breath when her hand slid under the olive green layer and slid along its intended target, he let out a sigh as he felt himself hardening by the second.

"Hey," Michonne's whisper reached his ears and he opened his eyes slowly, lifting his head to look down at her through half lidded eyes full of lust.

"Yeah?" he whispered back.

"You're not dreaming," she stated as she met his gaze.

Daryl just chuckled and let his head roll back again. But he felt her hand suddenly surround him and she squeezed...HARD.

"Ow! Fuck!" Daryl sat bolt upright with a jolt, his hands flew to her wrists and gripped them firmly, his blue eyes blazing and fierce. 'What the fuck was that?!"

"Now you know you're not dreaming..." Michonne replied simply, her grin was cheeky and satisfied.

"You didn't have t'...oh holy shit..."

Before he could figure out what to do with this new info, he felt the relief of being released from the tight confines of the material of his pants and Michonne's hands were skillfully sliding and twisting in ways he'd never known existed before now and all thoughts besides "holy fuck, that's awesome" and "this has been such a long time coming" flew out of his mind as he gave himself over to her expert touch.

The moment was so surreal that he almost wanted to laugh...but it felt too good to even consider laughing. He was vaguely aware that he was breathing heavily now, but he didn't even give a shit if he sucked in as much air as a jet engine or as little as an ant right now as those hands suddenly received some spit from their owner, making everything that much better.

"You're pretty quiet," Michonne commented randomly. Daryl cracked one eye open and glanced down at her, wondering what she was talking about. "You haven't made a single noise unrelated to breathing."

"Yeah, well," Daryl replied breathlessly. "In case ya ain't noticed, I'm kinda a little on the quieter side."

"I think I can change that," Michonne teased, her voice was heavy with suggestion and she gave him another one of those winks that drove him crazy before she released all hold on his at all and backed off, standing quickly. Daryl's jaw dropped at the suddenly lack of contact and he gave her a pitiful, begging look.

"Aw, come on!" he complained loudly, "That ain't even right!"

"When your shift ends, I'll be in the storage room," Michonne called over her shoulder as she opened the door, casting a smile over her shoulder. "Be there."

Daryl watched her go, wide eyed and hard as stone.

Bitch...

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So...I think we all know what the next chapter holds :) I know some of you have been waiting for a long time! Reviews are awesome and they make me want to write faster and better so the more you hit that review button, the better this next chapter shall be :D