Michonne bounced a little on the sofa cushion, wrinkling her nose. "I couldn't sleep on this couch either. The bed is much more comfortable, Carol," she tried to convince her friend. "I know because I helped you pick out that bed, remember?"

"I just can't, I -" Carol shook her head.

"Come on, honey … We'll change the sheets and straighten up a bit. Maybe it'll be easier then," Michonne cajoled gently, mindful of the heartache her friend was suffering.

"No! Please, 'Chonne, I'll do it later," Carol whined, trying to get Michonne to drop the subject as the woman led them into Carol's bedroom.

"Then I'll do it," Michonne said firmly as she dropped Carols hand and turned towards the bed.

"'Chonne, please don't … it's just … NO!" Carol stammered. The bed had somehow become a kind of memorial to her lost love. The sight of it hurt her to the very depths of her ragged soul, but she couldn't just change the sheets and obliterate the evidence of the one perfect night she'd spent in Daryl's arms. She just couldn't let go so easily. The thought of her best friend knowing exactly what had happened in that bed, of her wanting to set it to rights herself, was embarrassing, but it wouldn't change her mind.

Michonne gave Carol a knowing look before she pulled her into a hug. "I know you finally had sex in this wonderful bed and changing the sheets will reveal nothing I haven't seen before. Your apartment is so clean, it looks like a picture in a catalog, but the bed … " She released Carol and waved a hand towards the bed. "I know you, Carol, and this has to be driving you a little crazy. You can't do it, you can't let go … so let me do it for you."

Carol covered her face with her hands in shame.

"Go take a shower and I'll take care of it. When you come back refreshed, we'll have a coffee and talk about what we can do, ok?"

Her best friend just wanted to help her, Carol knew, and she had no defense against such love and devotion, so she nodded hesitantly in defeat, shame coloring her cheeks, and dragged herself off to the bathroom.

OOO

"So, how many times have you tried to call him since that night?" Michonne asked gently as they sat around Carol's kitchen table sipping coffee.

Carol huffed a bitter laugh, figuring it was better than crying into her cup. "I don't even have his phone number. I don't have that, or know where he lives … I have nothing, 'Chonne. And even if I did, I don't think he would talk to me."

"I beg your pardon? You don't have his number?!" Michonne shrieked in horror, her eyes blowing wide. What the everloving hell?!

Carol sighed dejectedly, shaking her head. "It was one of the rules. Do not exchange private contact information. All inquiries were to go through the agency."

"Gawd, you two are so … so … UGH!" Instead of a word, an angry, disgusted sound escaped Michonne's throat. She just couldn't believe what Carol was telling her. She pursed her lips and arched a dubious brow. "Right … because you guys have been so good at following the rules."

For this Michonne earned a shit look from her friend.

"So, tomorrow, call the agency and ask for a new meeting," Michonne suggested.

"The letter said we won't meet any longer, so -" Carol tried to explain.

"If you ask for a new appointment, Daryl will know it was nonsense. Then when you two see each other, you can finally tell him how you feel and clear up this misunderstanding."

"Do you really think it's going to be so easy?" Carol deadpanned. She had no hope he'd agree to another meeting. He would continue doing his job, but he certainly wouldn't want to meet with her again. Carol felt her stomach churn at the thought. Even before they'd had sex, she'd had a hard time coping with the knowledge that Daryl slept with other women, but now it was simply unbearable.

"Don't you want to see him again?" Michonne eventually asked when she'd allowed Carol to stew in her thoughts for a while.

"Of course, I want to see him again, but -" Carol whispered.

"No buts! Your mother probably taught you boys should be the ones fighting for the girls, conquering hearts and all that jazz, but, honey, it's time to rethink those old rules. It's time to go after what you want. Would you fight for him?"

"Yes," Carol nodded without the slightest hesitation, "I would." Of course, she would fight for the man she loved. It wasn't her pride which had left her wringing her hands and lamenting her mistakes, but fear of rejection. But Michonne was right. All this time, she'd only thought of herself and her pain. Thinking back over her time with him, she realized how often he'd had to fight to earn her trust, her affection, all of which she had considered as part of the business relationship. She rubbed a hand over the ache in the center of her chest. Everything he'd done had been real.Now it was Carol's turn.

"Gawd, Rick would go bat-shit crazy if he knew all this," Michonne sighed, grinning sheepishly.

"It's not Daryl's fault, it's mine!" Carol admitted again. If someone deserved a good kick in the ass, it was her.

"You're right!" Michonne snickered. "Rick would be really pissed at you, give you a hard time, and probably make you sit through one of his condescending lectures. But Daryl … he'd probably take him out for a beer. He said recently he thought Daryl was an ok guy and he just needed to get used to him," she said with a shrug.

"He did not say that!" Carol gaped at her, unable to believe it.

"Would I ever lie to you, honey? He did!"

OOO

It was Monday morning and Daryl was exhausted. The hangover still crawled maliciously through his entire body, compounding everything to make him feel like absolute shit after the worst weekend he'd ever had. Unable to sleep anyway, he'd driven to work, hoping to lose himself in mindless tasks, at least for a little while. Yet he knew it was futile when he walked into the shop to find Dwight already there. Fuckkkk!

"Damn, Dixon, what're you doing here so early?" the man asked, his voice grating on Daryl's already frayed nerves.

Does he have a death wish or somethin'? Does the idiot want to lose the other half of his face this morning? "Shut the fuck up, asshole, an' lemme work in peace," Daryl snarled as he reached for a pair of pliers.

Dwight just stood there, trying to remain calm as he stared at his co-worker. Dixon's mood was worse than usual. Dwight hadn't realized that was even possible. "No idea who pissed in your cornflakes, but I'm not to blame for your pissy mood, so leave me out of it. And don't take it out on the cars either!"

Daryl tightened his grip on the pliers, his knuckles ghostly white, and jumped at Dwight, stopping just an inch away. His face twisted into a mask of rage as he held the pliers beneath his co-worker's nose. "Get outta my sight or you'll regret it!"

Eyes wide as saucers, Dwight jerked back, staring at the tool Daryl held. The man looked broken. "I'm sorry, man," was all he could manage to say.

What the hell was up with Dixon? It almost seems like … Dwight remembered the time he'd wanted to beat the hell out of everything and everyone. The slightest wrong word had set him off, his temper volatile because of … Sherry. Is Dixon suffering from heartbreak? Nah. Was he even capable of such a human emotion?

Daryl huffed and stepped back. "Pfft! Don't let it happen again. Jus' leave me the hell alone and lemme work."

"That's not what I'm sorry for." Dwight's piercing eyes bored deeply into his.

Daryl shot him a side-eyed look, his teeth still clenched in anger, wondering what Dwight was on about, but not having the patience for whatever game he might be playing.

"Try to distract yourself … and for fuck's sake, don't drink. Everything eventually comes back when you sober up, and it's worse because then you have a raging migraine to go with it. Just try to survive it somehow," Dwight whispered cautiously.

At first, Daryl didn't know how to respond as the anger slowly drained from his features, replaced by confusion and a hint of agreement he tried desperately to hide. "I don't know what yer talkin' about," he replied quietly, averting his gaze.

"I think you know exactly what I mean," Dwight said calmly. "Come on, let's start … and if you need a break or want to call it a day, let me know."

OOO

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Peletier but Daryl isn't available at the moment. Call me tomorrow; maybe I'll know more then …"

"Unfortunately, he's still not available, but I will contact you as soon as I know more …"

"I'm really sorry to disappoint you again, Mrs. Peletier, but it seems Daryl is still unavailable. I'll contact you, I promise …"

"If you want, Mrs. Peletier, you can come back to my office and choose from my other escorts. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to arrange another meeting between you and Mr. Dixon. I'm really sorry …"

OOO

"I can't do that! What the hell would I even say?" Tara asked, horrified.

"Tara … sweetie, I need to know if Daryl is unavailable only to me. Please!" Carol tried desperately to persuade her younger friend. It had been bad enough for her to tell her everything, but she needed to be certain. She couldn't keep this up, the wondering, the hopelessness.

"Why can't you do that?" Tara asked, sending an accusing look Michonne's way.

"I would, but Rhee knows my voice. I told you I was the one who set up his office," Michonne replied.

The three women sat in the café, brooding over a new plan as they tried to find inspiration in a ton of cake and ice cream. Carol had been trying to arrange a new meeting with Daryl for nearly a week - all in vain - hoping Mr. Rhee wouldn't be able to smell her desperation through the phone.

"And if Daryl is available for … me? Sorry, Carol!" Tara gave her friend a compassionate look, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "But what should I do, if he's available and then I have to make an appointment with him? What do I do then?" She asked uncertainly, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. This whole scenario was just bad, bad, bad! It would prove the man Carol loved was consciously avoiding her and it made Tara immediately sorry for what she'd said. But, seriously, what was she supposed to do?!

"If that happens, you will order him to a hotel … but instead of you, he'll meet Carol there," Michonne grinned triumphantly, meeting Carol's sad eyes. There was no way this wasn't going to work, she was sure.

Carol shook her head in resignation. "No! If he doesn't want to see me, we shouldn't force him."

"But if this is your only chance to talk to him, what do you have to lose?" Michonne asked, refusing to let her friend give up.

"Carol?" Tara softly addressed her friend. "Tell me and I'll do it!"

A silent tear clung to Carol's lashes. Despite the infinite pain it would cause, she had to know if he just didn't want to see her anymore. If a trick was needed in order to meet him again, she would do it. Perhaps she needed another meeting with Daryl to find closure … to see there really was no hope for them. But if she could just talk to him, to explain … She batted the tear away which had finally dropped onto her cheek and nodded as Tara stroked her shoulder comfortingly before the woman reached for her cell phone. Michonne and Carol sat staring at her, tensed with expectation.

"Yeah, uhm … hello! My name is, uhm Miller. I want to ... yes, I would like to make an appointment with one of your ..."

The man on the other end of the line was talking, but unfortunately, neither Michonne nor Carol could understand a word he was saying, despite how close they leaned near Tara who sat between them.

"So, uhm … someone was recommended to me. His name is ... his name is Daryl. Could you arrange a meeting?" Tara continued shyly. What the hell was she even doing right now? You're doing this for Carol! You're doing this for Carol! she chanted silently like a mantra, desperately trying to calm down.

Again, the man spoke while the three women exchanged excited looks. "Oh, ok ... um, yes ... so, I guess I have to think about that. Yes, I will contact you. Thank you! Bye!"

Tara hung up the phone, and for a moment blissful silence reigned as she met Carol's wide eyes. She seemed to be trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation, blurting out, "Now, tell me! Please, Tara!"

"Not available!" Tara answered and pursed her lips in perplexity.

Carol took a deep breath and didn't know if she should be relieved or disappointed.

OOO

Somehow, Daryl managed to get through the week, Dwight doing his best to steer clear of the angry redneck. He was still unsympathetic to him, but Dwight wasn't as bad as Daryl knew he could be. They would never be best friends, but Daryl accepted whatever help the man offered him and didn't think too hard about the reasoning behind it. The guy had his back, and Daryl really needed it right now. He was grateful that apart from a few tire changes and minor repairs, there hadn't been much work to do in the shop. Daryl did his job, took his scheduled breaks and called it a day right on time to clock out, taking comfort in the knowledge his boss was still pleased with his performance. It set his mind at ease because Dale firing him would be the last straw, and Daryl's life was already hard enough.

Reluctantly, Daryl accepted Dwight's advice and tried to distract himself from his misery, though nothing could banish his thoughts of Carol for more than a few minutes. Despite the pain she'd caused him, he missed her terribly. His body and soul demanded her. Shit, that's prob'ly how junkies feel. Ya know the stuff kills ya, an' still ya can't stop. Instead, ya just wait - even though you're half dead - for the next fix, Daryl mused.

After work, he would often ride for hours with no destination and no plan, just to end up in Carol's neighborhood. Once, he'd even come close to her apartment just to see if her light was on, wondering briefly whether he should just ring her bell, standing out by the security light pole like a damned stalker. She don't wanna see ya, boy! She don't want t' have nothin' t' do with a piece o' shit like y' are! His father's voice had echoed in his head.

He cursed, the possible and impossible answers tripping through his mind interrupted by the ringing phone. Shit! Daryl had forgotten to turn if off again. The last few days his cell phone had been switched off, too annoyed to deal with incoming calls and messages. He hated always being available, which is why he had opted for the cell instead of a landline, happy to turn it off when he wasn't working. This way he could switch it off and simply check later. Besides, it wasn't as if he liked to talk on the phone, and even if he did, who would he talk to?

Daryl had only turned it on twice in the past week, only to find a few missed calls from Merle and Glenn, along with messages when he couldn't be reached. Again, Glenn had called trying to offer him work, and again, his call would go unanswered. He didn't even read the messages. Daryl growled in irritation as he turned the cell off and slammed it down on the nightstand. Ya can stop sellin' my ass, Rhee! I'm out!

OOO

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Peletier … uhm, unfortunately, I have no good news for you. Daryl is still unavailable," Glenn Rhee said nervously. For a week he'd tried to call Daryl, only to have his calls and texts left unanswered. Frankly, he was losing patience with his employee. On the other hand, he was also growing concerned for Daryl. Had he had an accident? Was he ok? However, if the reason for his unavailability wasn't due to accident or illness, he was afraid he'd have to fire Daryl. He simply couldn't allow such unreliability in his company. He had a reputation to uphold.

Carol was at a loss. It had been difficult enough not to call Glenn Rhee over the weekend, but now it was Monday, and there was still no trace of Daryl … after more than a week! She was a desperate mess of emotions. She wouldn't even allow herself to think he'd been injured in some way. She would surely lose it then.

"Mrs. Peletier? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here. Yes, that's a pity Daryl isn't available," she replied sadly. Should she just tell Mr. Rhee about what had happened and ask him for Daryl's phone number? Perhaps he would understand and give her his contact information. But then she remembered the initial meeting with Glenn and how strictly he'd insisted on his rules. If she asked him, and he refused, she might upset him and cause Daryl to lose his job.

"Have you ever thought about meeting another escort, Mrs. Peletier? I have really nice men to offer." Glenn suggested. Somehow, he had to keep his customers on the line.

She didn't want another man, damnit! Not for the wide world. "Yeah, that might be a good idea," she said suddenly, startled by the words coming out of her mouth. However, the more she thought about it, the more that fragile spark of hope in her chest blazed to life. "What about Daryl's brother? Would he be available?"

"Merle Dixon? Uhm … well … Merle Dixon is an interesting choice, but if you think he's like his younger brother, I'll have to disappoint you, Mrs. Peletier. The two are … uhm, hard to explain … very dissimilar brothers, you know."

"Perhaps a little change wouldn't be so bad." Carol grimaced at the seductive tone of her voice, disgusted with herself and ever so glad Mr. Rhee couldn't see her over the phone. But she had to make him think she was intrigued with the prospect of meeting with Merle.

"So, should I arrange an appointment with Mr. Dixon … Merle Dixon?"

"Yes, please," Carol answered, once again glad she hadn't asked Glenn directly for Daryl's number. Otherwise, the agency director wouldn't be willing to arrange an appointment between her and Daryl's brother. She hung up the phone and smiled, the first genuine smile she could remember since everything had fallen apart. Merle Dixon might be her only hope. She only prayed she could go through with this. In some way it felt as if she was betraying Daryl, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

OOO

Chapter End Notes:

Yes, maybe it's a filler chapter, but that's just how they feel right now with the uncertainty of what the future holds. Some stuff and thangs have to happen before they meet again. Maybe the next chapter will bring more solution. ;)

Thanks for reading and reviewing! :)

I send a lot of love, kisses and hugs to CharlotteAshmore! Get well soon sweetie! Take care of yourself! *hugs*