Daryl was feeling the Christmas spirit this year. Everyone was seeming a little glum about it even after he had dragged home a little Charlie Brown tree and strung it up for everyone to see. It seemed like only he and Judith were feeling good about it. After much talking with Rick, they agreed to do a Secret Santa gift exchange. Rick had taken a little convincing since he was rather concerned for the group, but after some reasoning, gave in.

Daryl ended up with Carol, who seemed to be the most in need of holiday cheer. He was determined to make her happy. He always wanted to see her smile, but he especially wanted to make her smile on Christmas. He had to think of the perfect gift that would surely capture her heart, prove his feelings for her.

He got the perfect idea. He had had it on him, but he couldn't find it now. He looked everywhere for it, even decided to retrace his steps as far as he could. It had to be miles back, though, so he would either have to find a new one or go all the way back to Terminus and dig it up somewhere. Where was it? He was starting to panic. It was supposed to be a gift for her a long time ago...

After hunting each day, he dropped off his kills and stayed out even longer than usual until it started to get dark before he headed back as quickly as he could. He had to find it, or find one that was the same. He started watching the ground he walked on intently as twelve days leading up to Christmas began to fly by and he was positive he would never, ever find what he was looking for. He was starting to lose hope and run out of options; he might just have to get her a different Christmas gift.

On the day of Christmas, he was late coming back. On his way back, he had tripped and found what he had been searching for. Excitement filled his being and his soul soared. He forgot everything entirely and went running back to their camp as fast as his legs could carry him, panting by the time he reached the camp and having to stop to take a breather. Carol was sitting away from the others, picking at her shirt, looking upset. He approached her, frowning and setting his crossbow down. "Hey, you okay?"

"They didn't involve me in the Secret Santa. Nobody wants me here."

Daryl looked shocked, sitting down by her. "What makes you say that?" he said softly, "Didn't you get someone to give a gift to?"

"Yes," she murmured, continuing to pick at her shirt, "He wasn't here to give it to." This only confused Daryl; he frowned, looking down, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he sighed, putting his hand on her knee. This caught her attention and she looked up at him bleakly. "What?"

"Come with me," Daryl replied gruffly, pulling her up to her feet and grabbing his crossbow again, walking with her away from the camp. She just hung her head, looking down at the ground, and he knew he had to hurry it along. He elbowed her suddenly, making her come to a stop when he was away from the camp a little, out of earshot at the least, coming around to stand in front of her. He cleared his throat, digging around in his pockets and pulling out the little jade stone. He started to place it in her hand but instead threw it at her clumsily, just like the water jug, his face red, mumbling, "My Christmas present is I'm giving myself to you..."

He trailed off embarrassedly, looking down as she caught the stone, watching her turn it over and over and slowly light up, murmuring shakily, "What did you say?"

She looked up at him and their eyes met. He swallowed his pride, shifting on his feet before whispering uncertainly, "I-I just, I want... I want you to... I want you to be mine for Christmas..." He shuffled his feet again, looking down.

Carol was stunned into silence, trying to process, but she knew she had to react fast because he looked like he was about to take it as rejection and run away. She didn't want him to run away from his feelings like he had so many times before. After a long moment, she broke into a watery grin, tears forming in her eyes, throwing her arms around his neck. "Yes, yes, Daryl, of course! Of course I will be!"

Daryl squeaked, stumbling a bit and catching her in his arms, placing his hands on her waist. He smiled, looking relieved, mumbling, "Yeah...?"

"Yes!" Carol repeated, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him back to camp. She stopped at the door to one of the cabins they had built up for the time being; it was nothing fancy, only temporary shelter. He waited for her to come back out, looking surprised when a poncho was thrust into his hands, Carol beaming but looking for approval on his face. "You were my secret santa and, well, I know it's not a motorcycle, but I figured you missed your poncho too, and..."

"I love it," Daryl said, cutting her off and setting his bow down once more, unfolding it and pulling it on. He spun around once, looking pleased, feeling the fabric and looking it over. "Thank you. It's perfect..."

They both went silent for several long moments as Daryl looked over the poncho before Carol cleared her throat. He looked up questioningly, frowning, fearing he had done something wrong. She pointed to the leafy plant hanging above their heads; mistletoe. He blushed hard, meeting her eyes again after a moment, before relaxing, taking a breath. He stepped forward, placing his hands on her waist. She threw her arms around his neck for the second time, pulling him in and kissing him deeply, lifting one leg like in those silly fairytales.

When he pulled away from the kiss, she smiled at him and his heart filled with joy he had brought back her Christmas spirit. He leaned his forehead against hers, whispering, "Merry Christmas, Carol... I fucking love you."

"I love you too, Daryl," she murmured, starting to say something else when a snowball hit her straight in the back of the head. She squealed in surprise, jumping and turning around, finding it was Rick, who jumped and ran behind Michonne. She looked at Daryl, smirking. "How about a snowball fight?"

Daryl smirked back, leaning down to ball up some snow in his hand, hopping in front of her. "Let's get 'em, girl," he said, hitting Michonne in the knee, laughing.

Everyone had a good Christmas that year.