AN: Here we go, another chapter here. There's one more to go.

This one made me change the rating. Those of you that know me know that I don't often write the smuffy scenes, but I felt like this story needed it.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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The kisses that Carol gave Daryl from the car to the door were different than the kisses that she'd given him before. They were hungry. They were the kind of kisses where she grabbed his face and nearly made him drop the food that he was carrying. They were the kinds of kisses that made them both stumble more than once in the short distance.

They were the kinds of kisses that made him think he'd never get the door open and that he'd certainly never get it open "in time".

But whatever fire had been burning hot outside the door seemed to die down considerably once they were inside the house. Carol put the food away, very much as Daryl expected, and Daryl came out of his jacket and shoes. He took off his belt in the living room, meaning to leave enough on that he could pretend he had no expectation of where this might be going, and he tried to steal another of the hungry kisses from Carol when she came through the living room from the kitchen.

But she shied away from him.

She made a large loop around him and went to the bedroom. Daryl didn't understand it at all. He must have done something wrong between the door and the living room, but for the life of him he didn't know what it could have been. He could think that he was reading the signs wrong, and maybe he was getting her intentions wrong altogether, but that was hard to believe.

The way she was kissing him seemed impossible to misinterpret.

Daryl finally went toward Carol's bedroom himself. He found that she'd left the door open, but still he lingered outside of it instead of inviting himself into her personal space. He tapped at the doorframe and waited for her to respond to him.

"Come in," Carol called.

Inside the bedroom, he found her sitting on the side of her bed with her shoes off.

Daryl cleared his throat.

"Did you—did'ja change your mind or...you just wanna watch a movie or something?" Daryl asked.

"Is that what you want to do?" Carol asked.

Daryl laughed to himself and chewed at his bottom lip. He felt as much like one of those cartoon characters with a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other as he'd ever felt in his life. The angel wanted him to tell Carol that he was great with that—a movie and some cuddling sounded excellent, and afterward he could sleep on her couch while she went to bed—but the devil was having himself a tantrum. Because a little cuddling wasn't going to make Daryl feel any better and, after three months of cuddling, there were certain parts of his anatomy that he'd told one too many times to simply quiet down and wait until they got home.

"What do you want?" Daryl asked, finally choosing what he thought was the safest response. "Because—I think I know what you were wanting in the driveway, but I don't know what happened to that." Carol looked like she was going to answer him, but she sat there with her mouth hung partially open like she'd forgotten her words as abruptly as she'd forgotten her mood. Daryl laughed to himself and scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "If you dropped it out there or something, just tell me. I'll go hunt for it. Pick it up. Probably bring it in and brush it off and it'll be—it'll be just about good as new."

Carol frowned at him and he regretted having said what he said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just—got scared."

"Scared of what?" Daryl asked. He tried to push back a slightly annoyed feeling that seemed to start at the base of his spine and crawl its way up. "I think—I've done everything I can, Carol, to let you know that I won't hurt you. I don't think I've ever done anything to hurt you. I mean—besides maybe poking you when you didn't want to be poked or...you weren't a big fan of that feeding tube removal. But I don't hurt you just to hurt you and I weren't planning on starting it now. If you don't want something to happen—it just won't happen."

"I'm not scared of you hurting me," Carol said.

"Then what are you scared of?" Daryl asked. "Tell me. You told me when you were scared to go to sleep. You told me when—when you were scared to go in them machines. Tell me what you're scared of now. Maybe I can fix it."

Carol shrugged her shoulders at him and sighed.

"I'm scared of a lot of things," Carol said. "I don't even remember if—I liked sex, really. I don't remember if I'm any good at it."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Hell, it's been long enough since I've had sex that I don't hardly remember if I liked it or if I'm any good at it, but I'm willing to try," Daryl said. "I won't judge you too harsh if you don't hold it against me."

"It's more than that," Carol said.

"Well—keep going, then," Daryl said.

"Daryl—you took care of me," Carol said. "Very good care of me. For a long time."

"OK," Daryl said. "Is that the problem?"

"After everything you did?" Carol asked. "I just think about it and—I don't know how you could find me attractive after some of the things that you did. Some of the things that you had to do. I'm mortified to just think about it."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Don't worry," Daryl said. "It don't bother me at all."

"How can it not?" Carol asked. "I mean—you did everything for me."

"I'm good at compartmentalizing," Daryl said. She made a face at him and he laughed to himself. "I am," he said. "Look—you gotta be to do what I do. You gotta teach your brain how it's supposed to see things. Things that happen at work? They're work things. Gotta look at 'em a certain way. Otherwise—let's just say breasts turn you on. You can't go gettin' turned on every time you gotta see a woman without her shirt on. So—you compartmentalize. What's work is work."

"You've seen everything," Carol said. "Up close and personal. If I have it—you've seen it."

Daryl sucked in a breath and held it. He nodded his head.

"I've seen it," he agreed. "And—it's all just fine. All where it's supposed to be. Everything's what it's supposed to be."

"There's no mystery there," Carol said. "There's no—I haven't seen you naked, Daryl. I haven't seen you or...or touched you. There's excitement for that first time. But for you? There's no mystery to me. There's no...excitement."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Oh there's plenty of excitement," he assured her. "Enough that—if we don't get the show on the road if it's going on the road? We're gonna have to take a thirty minute recess before we even get going."

"How can there be?" Carol asked.

Daryl sighed and crossed the room. He sat down beside Carol and she didn't shy away from him or move down the bed any. At least that was a good sign. They might not have gone forward as fast as he might've wanted, but they weren't going backward.

"Listen," Daryl said, "I'ma just be a straight up guy for a minute. OK?" Carol nodded her acceptance of this. "If it was about you as nothing more than a bunch of parts to play with? Something to touch here and something to...you know there? Then maybe there wouldn't be no excitement. Whole idea of I got that for Christmas last year. But—it ain't about that. You gonna lose interest in me, if we have sex together, just because you already seen me naked? Because we already done it?"

"No," Carol said. "That's—ridiculous."

Daryl raised his eyebrows at her.

"Then what the hell's gotta make me different?" He asked.

"You're a man," Carol said.

Daryl laughed.

"And? So that means I don't think like you do? Means I must lose interest just because—because we did it? Can I get like...just a little credit? Not too much or anything, but something?" He responded.

Carol laughed.

"I guess it's not fair," she said.

"No, it ain't," Daryl said.

"But it just worries me," Carol said. "Because—I don't know if you'll like it. If you'll like me."

Daryl swallowed and his stomach churned a little in protest of his meal.

"And I don't know if you'll like me neither," Daryl said. "Scares the shit outta me that we—been like we have for these months and I could just fuck this up and you'd be like...nope, not what I want. But—if we don't try then we're just right here forever. Never knowing if we'd like it or not."

"You're scared too?" Carol asked. Daryl wasn't sure if she looked amused or hopeful. He laughed to himself and nodded his head.

"Just holding off pissing myself," he said. "So—movie? Or...?"

Carol hesitated a moment, but when she moved around a little to pull his face to hers and kiss him again—this time softer than she had outside—Daryl was pretty sure he had his answer. He started unbuttoning his shirt and, by the time she broke the kiss, he had all but a couple of the buttons undone. She finished them for him and he slipped out of the shirt.

"Only fair," he said, feeling his face burn. "You get to see what I got first."

Daryl stood up and sucked in a breath. He was self-conscious about his body. He always had been to some degree. But that wasn't the kind of thing that men talked about. They didn't sit around saying they hated this or that about their bodies—they weren't supposed to. Carol sat on the bed and watched him as he undressed. Rather than throw his clothes on the floor, as he might normally be inclined to do, Daryl neatly laid them over the chair in Carol's room, mindful of the fact that the suit was nice and he might need it again someday.

And when he'd finally shucked down all the way, understanding a little how mortified Carol had often felt in Spring Valley when she'd been stripped of even her paper gown, Daryl gave a little turn and held his arms out to the side.

"Not much to look at," he said.

"I think it is," Carol offered. "You are." She stood up and turned around, offering her back to Daryl. "Unzip me?"

Daryl obliged her and unzipped the dress. He revealed to himself the back of her bra and the underwear that she was wearing—silky and white. She turned around to face him, then, and shimmied out of her dress. Mindful, too, that it was a dress that she liked, she put in on the chair and draped it over his clothes.

She walked over and opened the drawer to her nightstand. From inside it, she pulled out a foil packet that Daryl recognized immediately.

"Condoms?" He asked.

"It's not because I think you've got anything. I still—I get my period sometimes," Carol said. "Not regular and not—it's not even a real period, and I'm not really sure if it means anything, but it's something..."

"I know," Daryl said, laughing to himself. He felt his cheeks burn a little warm and Carol covered her mouth with her hand.

"I just don't want anything to happen," she said.

"I just forgot about having them," Daryl said. "Been that long. Surprised you were so prepared."

"I bought them two months ago," Carol admitted.

Daryl smiled to himself. She looked mortified to admit that she'd been thinking about this for two months, but it was a little pleasing to him to know that he wasn't the only one.

"It's OK," he offered. The simple words, somehow, seemed to do something to relax Carol again. Without responding, she came to him and pressed against him, kissing him once more.

Daryl touched her, then, for the first time as Carol. Not as his patient, just as Carol. He let his fingertips trail down her side and he slid them over the silky fabric of the panties. She shivered and he laughed to himself.

"Cold?" He asked.

"Not that kind of shiver," Carol responded.

He slid his hands in the back of the panties and squeezed her ass and Carol groaned at him, reaching her hands up to clutch his shoulders. He couldn't hide, even if he wanted to, how turned on he was. Unlike her, he was down to wearing just what he'd come into this world wearing. And he didn't know how long they had, but he knew that he was going to do his best to take his time.

He backed away from her enough to change the position of his hand. He ran his fingertips over her and she changed her position enough to spread her legs a little and open herself up to him, so he continued the gentle stroking. He must have been doing something right, because she changed her position again, allowing him a little more room to move his fingers, and she rested her head against his chest, her hands never leaving his shoulders.

He moved his other hand and slipped it under the bottom of her bra cup. It wasn't the best position that he could imagine, but it was the best he could get at the moment. He felt her nipple harden against his palm and he squeezed her breast in his hand. She gave him a throatier moan this time and somewhat pushed into him. It might have taken him back a step if she'd used just a little more force.

When he stopped his actions and freed his hands, she protested with another sound and dug her fingertips into his shoulders.

"What?" She asked. "What's wrong?"

Daryl laughed to himself.

"I got no real problems with doing this here, if you want to just sort of slip on over there to the wall. But—I think you're wearing a little too much," Daryl said.

Carol only then seemed to realize that she hadn't come out of her underwear—and that she hadn't touched him at all. He wasn't complaining, though. This could be about her—all of it. Because it wasn't going to take much for him to get everything he might want out of the experience and they had plenty of time, when this was done, to try out anything they might want.

Carol came out of her underwear. She stepped out of the panties and left them where they were. She dropped the bra on the floor to join them. And then she made the decision of where this would happen by going to the bed herself and crawling onto it. She patted it to invite Daryl to join her and he didn't need a second invitation.

Once he was on the bed with her, Daryl returned to kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Daryl didn't have to ask her what she wanted when she opened her legs to him. Daryl touched her again, this time able to tease her with slipping his fingertips inside her, and he couldn't help the sound that escaped him at the satisfaction of touching her in such a way.

"What?" Carol asked, backing off of kissing him enough to give him a concerned look.

He smiled at her, her breathing already faster than normal and her lips pink from the kissing.

"Seen you naked before," Daryl said. "But—don't worry. I never seen you like this before."

In response, Carol wrapped her hand around him for the first time and stroked him. Immediately, Daryl hissed at her and pulled away.

"What?" She asked. "Too hard?"

"Too much," Daryl said. "Right now? Too much. I told you—I ain't no star at this."

Carol kissed him again, but she didn't return to stroking him. Instead, she wiggled her body around and reached to catch the hand that he was using to tease her. She moved it to her breast and he immediately took the suggestion to pay attention to her nipples. She bit his lip before she broke the chain of kisses that she seemed to be enjoying.

"Well?" She asked.

"Well?" Daryl echoed.

"Come on..." Carol said. As if to further illustrate her meaning, she reached around and got the foil packet from the nightstand to offer it to Daryl.

"We don't gotta rush," Daryl assured her. "We've got all night. Tomorrow too, if you ain't busy."

"We don't have to be slow about it either," Carol said, smiling at Daryl and biting her lip. "We can do that later. Tomorrow too."

Daryl accepted her proposal and put the condom on. He changed his position and, without hesitation, followed her command not to take it slowly. He pushed all the way into her, the way that he thought she would want, but her immediate response was to tense up and push against him. He wasn't sure what to do, so he stayed as still as he could, holding her hips.

"Too fast?" He asked.

Carol nodded her head.

"Maybe," she said. "Too much, too soon. I wasn't—expecting that."

Daryl didn't dare to move at the moment.

"What you want me to do?" He asked.

But even as he asked it, he could feel her relaxing. He could see her relaxing. She sunk back into the bed and sighed, no longer pushing at him.

"It's OK now," she said. "It's good. I just—wasn't expecting it."

"It's OK?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled at him.

"Better than OK," she said. "Move, Daryl."

She didn't have to tell Daryl more than once.

And she didn't have to tell him anything else, either. Almost immediately, they found their rhythm together. More than anything, it was Carol's expressions that drove Daryl on. It was the way that she looked like she was having the best experience of her life—better even than when she ate desserts that always made her roll her eyes back just before she closed them. And the sounds that she made, too, made Daryl forget any concern that he might have had previously about how things would go.

Because even if he wasn't very good, she seemed to think he was.

And even if she might have been afraid that she wasn't very good, it was the best experience that Daryl ever had.

And when Daryl finally sunk down beside her, sweaty and tired and a little shakier than he might want to admit, Carol curled into him and hummed at him, her fingers still gently trailing on his skin.

"Perfect," Daryl said.

"The sex?" Carol asked.

Daryl laughed to himself.

"That too," he said. "But—just you. That. This. Perfect."

Carol hummed.

"What?" Daryl asked. "You don't agree?"

Carol sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, wiggling closer to him on the bed, not that it was possible for her to get much closer.

"Almost perfect," she said. "But—if it were really perfect? We'd have remembered to pull the cover back. I'm cold now."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Always needing something," he teased. "Move—we'll get the blanket."

"If we move," Carol pointed out, "it'll spoil the feeling."

"Then we get under the blanket in the meantime," Daryl said. "And in a little while? We'll get the feeling back again. After all, Sophia's gone three days."