First of all, HOLY CRAP! Thank you to the folks who voted for Cellar Door in thecaryldaily's Caryl Fanfiction Awards on Tumblr! It makes me indescribably happy to know this story lights people's fires. It's an honor! Congrats to everyone who was nominated in all categories, and big thanks to untapdtreasure for all her hard work and dedication.

Double props to 27dayz who, in another forum, observed, "Everybody here works extremely hard for something that is unpaid and completely voluntary and it brings so much joy to so many people. That in itself deserves an award." She is so right!

I managed to squish in one more chapter by neglecting all the things I'm supposed to be doing, so this really is the last one before I go. I'll be back towards the end of August!

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead belongs to notme.

The next morning, Carol got up with Judith, intending to watch her for a few hours while she worked on some laundry. Daryl stole Carl from Rick's garden to help make a practice target. They arranged the huge amount of cardboard they'd cut last night into a tidy narrow stack and sandwiched it top and bottom in between some lumber they'd pilfered from the yard. Using the ratchet straps Daryl had brought from yesterday's run, they cinched everything down tight, making a compact, sturdy backdrop that would stop arrows without damaging them. Daryl sent Carl off to find some paper and pens to make some ringed bullseyes to tack onto the front, while he worked on setting the target up in its permanent home. With some more scrap lumber, he added a simple frame support to keep it upright.

When it was all finished, he sent Carl back to work with his dad, promising that he'd get his first archery lesson tonight after supper. The young man's eyes were bright as he raced back to the garden, whooping as he went. Daryl then went outside the fences to check snares, bringing back a few small critters to add to their lunch. After delivering them to the kitchen, he went back down the hill to join the fence crews thinning out the clusters of walkers. He worked for hours, repeatedly stabbing at rank smelling corpses through the chain link until about midday.

As he pulled his crowbar free from the face of yet another walker, he felt a warm hand at his elbow. His mouth quirked into a half-smile as he turned to look back, but it dropped away abruptly when he found himself face to face with that Woodbury bitch. What was her name? Natalie.

She was simpering up at him, blinking her long lashes coyly. "Heyyyy, Daryl," she oozed. "Sasha was asking around to see if anyone was interested in learning archery since you brought back that gear yesterday, and I said I'd love to try it. I saw you already have a target made, you clever boy. Maybe later you can show me how to handle the equipment." She winked broadly.

"Maybe later you can fuck off and leave me alone," he replied, bristling.

"Oh, honey, you're so cute when you're cranky!" she giggled and stepped closer, putting a hand on his arm. "So, after dinner?" Her thumb brushed along the muscle of his forearm, making his skin crawl.

He flinched back from her. "I'ma tell you this one more time. Don't fuckin' touch me! I ain't interested in you. Stay the fuck away from me!"

Backing away hastily, he took his crowbar and fled the fences, her bubbling laugh following him. She called out, "I thought girls were supposed to be the ones who played hard to get!"

He hustled back up the hill to the courtyard kitchen where several people were sitting down to eat. Feeling more nauseated than hungry, he passed through the group and headed inside, aiming for his and Carol's cell so he could have a moment to regain his composure. Natalie's persistence was unsettling, and it made him angry that she wouldn't back off.

He stormed up the stairs to their cell to find the curtain pushed open and Carol on a blanket on the floor with Judith. His anxiety bled away as she looked up at him and smiled.

"Hey, handsome!" she grinned. Then she hesitated. "What's wrong?"

His eye twitched, so he scrubbed at it with a finger, trying to get it to stop. "Natalie," he sighed heavily.

Carol's face hardened, despite her obvious efforts not to react. "What did she do?"

"Nothin', really. Just pestering me, askin' to learn to shoot and not taking fuck off for an answer."

A smile cracked the hard expression on her face. "Language, mister! Jude's going to sound like a truck driving sailor the way everyone talks around her."

"Sorry," he said. He even meant it a little bit. He smiled down at Judith where she was parked on her diapered ass flapping some red plastic cups around and trying to stuff them in her mouth. "How long you got Asskicker for?"

"Beth's supposed to take over here shortly. But she's with that Zach boy, so who knows if she'll remember. Young love and all." Her eyes twinkled in amusement. "I hear you had something to do with that."

"What?"

"Rumor has it you had something to do with Zach and Beth getting together. Is it true?"

"I ain't done nothin'," he grumbled.

"Nothing at all?" she prodded.

"It's Glenn's fault!" He could feel his face go red. "People keep askin' me stuff I don't know nothin' about!"

She got to her feet and went to slip her arms around him where he stood by the bunk. "Well, apparently you're doing something right," she teased, fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in to brush his lips over hers. He let his tongue tease hers, but kept things restrained since he didn't want to educate Judith too much. "Apparently I am."

She kissed him one more time, then asked, "Feel like lunch?"

"Feel like eatin' something," he growled in her ear before closing his mouth on the skin just below the corner of her jaw, never mind the baby. Asskicker wasn't paying attention anyway. She really fucking loved those cups.

Carol squawked and wiggled away from him. "Hey! I said I'd be open to trying some things, but not in front of Judith!"

"Fine," he grumped. "Lunch it is."

Carol gathered up a few things and crammed them into the diaper bag that went wherever Judith did. Daryl picked up the little girl, careful not to separate her from her precious Solo cups.

"Hey, there, Asskicker!" he said as he swung her up in the air. "You ready for some vittles?"

She crowed and waved her stacked cups in the air, then grabbed a handful of the scruff on his chin and yanked.

"Ow! Dangit, short stuff. That's a hel-heckuva grip you got goin' on there," he chuckled as he gently untangled her fingers from his beard.

"Yeah, watch out, she's really grabby lately."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Sarcasm will get you nowhere, mister. Just be glad you don't wear earrings," she admonished with a finger leveled at him.

They walked together up to the kitchen to find some food. Even more people had gathered to eat by now, and seating was getting scarce. Carol spotted Beth and Zach sitting together finishing their meal at the end of one of the picnic tables and made a beeline for them.

"Beth, I'm glad I caught you. Are you ready to take Judith?" she asked.

"Sure, we're almost done!" Beth reached toward Daryl to take the baby as she made one more grab for his beard.

He grunted and jerked his head away just in time. "Watch out for this one. She's like to tear your hair out."

Grinning ruefully, Beth pushed her hair back to reveal a scabbed over earlobe. "Yeah, I know. I'd'a been happier if she got my hair."

Daryl moved back so Carol could pass off the diaper bag. Next to Beth, Zach was making wide-eyed faces while nodding and pointing to her behind one hand. Daryl frowned as he tried to figure out what the fuck the kid was doing, but then Zach winked and gave a thumbs up. Daryl nearly sprained something trying not to roll his eyes. How had he gotten so involved with everyone else's bullshit?

Finally, the baby was settled with Beth, so Daryl and Carol went to go fetch some food. There was stew of some kind, no doubt containing the critters that had turned up in this morning's snares, plus some kind of tough biscuit that someone had managed to make. They sat together in two of the last open seats.

"Wanna go learn to shoot after lunch?" he asked through a mouthful of stew.

Her eyes lit up. "Can we?"

"Sure. There's a bunch of folks need to learn, but for you, we're doin' private lessons," he quirked one eyebrow suggestively, and she laughed.

Across the courtyard, he caught sight of Natalie and two other women from Woodbury giving him the once over, which sobered his mood instantly. He resented being made to feel so uncomfortable in his own fucking home. Turning back to Carol, he put a hand on her knee under the table and tried to put Natalie out of his mind.

They finished their food and went inside to pick up her new bow, quiver, and arrows. She was practically dancing next to him as they made their way back outside and headed to the lower yard around the side of the prison where he and Carl had set up the practice target earlier. They'd set it up so that the area where they were shooting was relatively flat, but behind the target, the hill sloped up, which would stop any stray arrows. And if someone got really crazy with their aim and missed the hill entirely, they were on the uninhabited side of the prison near where the walls were collapsed, so the chances of hitting anyone were minimal.

Though he was more familiar with crossbows, since that's what he'd used for most of his life, he'd done enough shooting with compound bows to be reasonably knowledgeable. He gave her a quick overview of her bow – what the parts were called and what they did. Then he explained all the way through what he wanted her to do to draw, aim, and shoot. She listened intently as he talked, clearly trying to absorb every word.

"You ready to give it a go?" he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically.

"So get in the right stance," he prompted.

She arranged herself at a not-quite ninety degree angle from the target, feet shoulder width apart.

"Nock your arrow."

She pulled an arrow from the quiver and laid it on the arrow rest with the fletching oriented as he'd told her, snapping it into the nocking point on the bowstring. Glancing up at him, she looked a little nervous now that she was actually ready to shoot.

"Draw and anchor. You know what to do, just don't grip the bow tight and don't let your forearm roll into the path of the string."

With a steadying breath, she raised the bow and drew it as he'd told her. She didn't do too badly for her first time.

"Now sight it the way I showed you. When you release, do it slowly. Nice and easy. When it goes, don't lower the bow – watch the arrow until it hits its target."

She let the arrow fly, and when it struck the cardboard with a thwack, she spun to face him with a delighted grin. The arrow had hit to the left and almost at the bottom of the cardboard backstop, three feet from the bullseye, but she'd hit the target, and that was success enough in her eyes for her first try.

Dropping her bow arm to the side, she threw her other arm around his neck with a happy squeal and kissed him. At first it was an enthusiastic, but simple kiss, but it soon shifted into something hungry and aggressive. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were dark and she was breathing hard.

Dragging her eyes up from his lips, she said, "Maybe I should go again."

He ran his tongue over her lower lip before pulling it into his mouth to nip. "Practice makes perfect, or so I hear."

She smiled and let go of his neck, setting herself up to shoot again. As she did, he stepped up close behind her, making small adjustments to her stance and form with light touches to her body and suggestions spoken softly in her ear. He felt her shiver as his lips whispered over her skin, so he flicked his tongue out to taste her skin. She sighed softly at the contact, so he slipped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her ear in earnest, sucking her earlobe and nibbling his way around the curve. Her breath hitched, and she melted back against him, bow drifting down in front of her. His hand drifted up under the hem of her shirt to cup her breast, fondling her through the fabric of her bra. The other hand found her hip and pulled her back against him.

"You're so fuckin' sexy with that bow," he murmured as he nudged her backside with his growing erection.

She reached her free hand up to grip the hair at the back of his neck, twisting herself around enough to find his mouth with her own. When she broke the kiss, her eyes gleamed wickedly. "Careful, love. Out here in the open like this? Gosh, someone might see!"

"Aw, now you're just askin' for it!" he growled, attacking her mouth again and giving her nipple a pinch.

He landed a solid smack on her ass and reluctantly released her, straightening her clothes as he pulled his hands out from under them. Standing back a few steps he gestured for her to continue with her shooting practice. After giving him a sassy smirk, she situated herself again, drew the bow carefully and released another arrow. This one actually hit the paper, though it didn't break the outer ring of the bullseye.

"Yes!" she cried, throwing both hands in the air, raising the bow overhead.

"Again," he prompted, though it gave him a thrill to see her this happy.

One after another, Carol shot the remaining arrows in the quiver. She was incredibly beautiful in her excitement, and it was easy to imagine her as some wild woodland mistress of the hunt. Her aim slowly but steadily improved as she got used to her new weapon. When she'd shot them all, they tromped through the grass to the target to retrieve the arrows. After he showed her how to pull them out without bending them, she gathered them up and they walked back out to do it again. By the end of the second round, fatigue started to wreck her aim, so they called it quits. She'd managed to hit within the rings four times total, including one that broke the center ring of the bullseye.

"Make sure to shoot at least a little every day. You'll get stronger and more accurate, but you gotta keep it up or you lose it. Try different distances and get used to adjusting for it. 'Fore you know it, you'll be killin' squirrels left and right," he told her as they walked back up toward the prison.

She stopped him with a hand to his arm. Turning to face him, she traced the buttons of his shirt with her fingers. "Thank you. Really, Daryl, thank you! This means a lot to me." Dropping her hand to his, she threaded her fingers between his and leaned up to kiss his cheek, letting her lips linger for a moment before pulling back.

"Welcome," he replied with a hint of a smile. With a tug on her hand, he led them back inside.

Hustling her through the kitchen and the common room, he took her straight to their cell, pulled the bow and quiver from her hands, and set them carefully on the top bunk. Out there practicing, she'd looked incredible – a wild, graceful thing, so tall and strong, concentrating on her target so intently. He stalked forward, pressing her back until her thighs bumped up against the tattered dresser along the wall opposite the bunks. Catching her face with both hands, he kissed her hard, picking up where he'd left off out in the yard, his cock eager to get back to business. After a surprised sound at his sudden hunger, she wrapped her arms around his middle, hands sliding up to splay over his back. His tongue slid over hers, fought with it, pushing deeply into her mouth to taste her.

Her hands gripping his back, her scent, and her soft, beautiful skin under his fingers were stoking the fire of his need. He wanted her. He always wanted her. But right now, he wanted her desperately, rough and wild.

Breaking the kiss only when he was desperate for air, he pulled back briefly. Her eyes, wide and startled, locked with his as she gasped for breath.

"Daryl," she began, but he interrupted her with another quick kiss.

Putting his mouth to her ear, he whispered, "Hush, little bird. It's the middle of the day, and people might hear you. Do you want them to hear me fuck you? Because I'm gonna fuck you senseless right now, and it's up to you who hears it."

Her breath left her in a faint sigh, and she crumpled slightly against him. He bit her earlobe, and she shuddered, but didn't make a sound.

"Good girl," he crooned softly.

He grabbed her hips and spun her around. Her hands automatically came up to catch herself against the wall above the dresser. He leaned into her to pin her thighs and press his cock against her ass. Grinding his hips into her, he groped her in a rush, trying to touch everything at once. While his hands roamed her body, fondling her tits and pushing between her legs to rub her, he bit down on the side of her neck and sucked gently enough not to leave a bruise, but enough to make her squirm. She was salty and smelled of the outdoors – sunny and grassy.

He had her belt and pants undone in a heartbeat, and pushed them down over her hips just as quickly. One hand moved down to cup her now that there were no barriers to his touch. Gasping, she twitched against his palm, but he held tight and slipped his fingers inside her, slick and hot. She pushed herself into his hand, seeking friction. He groaned softly in her ear and breathed, "God, you feel so fuckin' good!"

His other hand yanked at his own belt, and as soon as he'd freed himself from his jeans, he gave himself a couple of good strokes. Kicking her feet as far apart as they would go with her legs still trapped in her cargo pants, he nudged his cock into her until he found her entrance, then drove into her smoothly, gripping her hips to pull her back against him. After a brief pause, he set a slow rhythm, pulling out gently, driving back in faster until she matched his movements. His arms slipped around her again, one hand under her shirt at her breasts, the other working slick circles at her clit. Kissing his way back up the side of her neck, he ended at her ear to whisper, "You gonna come for me? Promise me you'll be quiet, and I'll make you come."

She nodded jerkily, her body straining against him. Without letting up on her clit, he rolled a nipple then gave it a pinch, and a tiny, whining whimper escaped her.

"Hush now. Someone's gonna hear you comin' so hard for me." She tensed and bucked into him, and deep inside, he could feel her throbbing around him, as her body started to shudder through her orgasm. When she whimpered again, a little louder this time, he put a hand gently over her mouth to remind her. But she immediately bit down on his hand at the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger and growled.

The pain from the bite coupled with her body clamping down on his cock sent a tingling wave of pure animal lust through him. He pulled his hands away, planting both of them on the wall to either side of her own hands, and fucked her hard against the dresser, driving into her with no concern for the noise. And when his balls pulled up tight, his cock pulsed, and his body trembled as he emptied himself deep inside her, he groaned in her ear, "God, so good, little bird! Fuck!"

Finally, he sagged against her, dropping his head to her shoulder and breathing hard. He brought one arm down to wrap around her again, leaving the other one propped against the wall. When he recovered a little, he planted kisses all up the back of her neck, making her shiver, then nuzzled her ear.

"Love you, Jailbird. So sexy," he murmured.

She relaxed back against him and turned her head, reaching back until she could kiss him. Her eyes and her smile were sleepy. "Mmm...I love you, too." Then she frowned a little bit, turning to grab the hand she'd bitten and pull it up to examine it. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not in any kinda way I didn't like."

She kissed the bite mark gently, then they separated to reassemble themselves, though Carol opted to shuck her cargoes and boots and trade them for her comfy athletic shorts. Daryl smiled as he watched her climb onto the bunk and wrap herself in the blanket, curling up against the wall on their pillows. She snagged her book from the battered nightstand and found her marked place.

"I take it you've got some free time," he observed.

She grinned. "The laundry will still be there after dinner. That's the thing about laundry – there's always more of it."

"Will it bother you if I make up some more arrows in here? Might be stinky," he asked.

"I don't mind. I can always run you out if it's too stinky," she laughed, opening her book and burying her nose in it.

He sat at the edge of the bunk and pushed the edge of the blanket slowly up until he'd bared her leg to the knee. He ran his finger the length of her shin bone, then leaned over to follow it back up with his lips. When he reached her knee, he planted an overly sloppy kiss on her kneecap, but she refused to look up. The only indication that she noticed him at all was a tiny smile that hovered at the corners of her mouth.

So he got up and gathered his arrow making supplies. He arranged himself at the opposite end of the bunk from where she was curled up reading and set to work cutting arrows to a few different lengths that should work with the various bows he'd brought back and adding inserts to each one. As often happened when working on something like this, half his mind wandered while the other half focused on the task at hand. The wandering half was busy daydreaming about Carol and her new bow, imagining her hunting in the dappled cool of the forest, on the edge of a sunny meadow, or bundled up against a snowy winter landscape. The images stirred his blood and left him restless.

He'd made his way about halfway through the arrows he wanted to finish before supper when he glanced over to Carol's end of the bunk. She was still sitting as she had been before, but she wasn't reading anymore. Instead she was watching him work, and the look on her face made him pause.

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head slightly as her eyes traveled over him, as if she were memorizing every line of his body. "It's nothing, really. I was just appreciating the moment – the two of us just being together, here in our cell. It's one of those things you don't realize how much you need in your life until it's there, and then you don't know how you managed before without it."

Setting his arrow to the side, he scooted farther onto the bed and tugged on her ankle until she straightened her legs. He lay down alongside her and wrapped an arm around her hips, resting his head on her belly. Closing his eyes, he listened to the tiny gurgles of her stomach and the steady thumping of her heart.

"Fibber. That ain't nothin'," he told her. He tugged her shirt up and kissed the bare skin of her belly.

"Know what else I need in my life?" she asked softly. "This. If you'd asked me a week ago, I wouldn't have believed you'd ever be like this with me."

"Like what?"

She stroked her fingers through his hair. "Like this. Physical, affectionate, brain-meltingly sexual. It's so much more than I'd ever have thought I could have in my life."

"Well, I hope you're good with it, cuz you're kinda stuck with me now."

"I'm way beyond good with it," she laughed.

He pushed himself up on his elbow. "Come hunting with me tomorrow. I wanna get outta here for a while."

"As long as you don't expect me to hit anything..."

"You ain't even gotta bring your bow – no point losing arrows. But you can still keep learnin' to track, and mostly I just want you to myself for a bit. Can't scratch my ass around here without everybody lookin' to see what I'm doin'. Maybe an overnight trip?"

She touched his cheek. "I'd like that."

He scootched up far enough to give her a searing kiss, then climbed back down to the end of the bunk to pick up where he'd left off with the arrows, while she returned to her book. His heart skipped at the thought of having her to himself in peace and quiet. They'd been so spoiled in that old root cellar and the little library in town, safe in shelter with no one to bother them. He looked forward to having that again.