This was the man who had impressed Andrea? Carol was a little surprised. Andrea had been with the likes of Shane and T-Dog after all, both hulking men who knew their way around a gun. This man…well, he hardly seemed intimidating as he sat behind a desk that was too big for him and looked over the inventory sheet they'd brought.

"It looks like you mostly brought cigars and booze," Milton said finally. "I don't know that we have much need for that."

Carol and Daryl were sitting in the chairs opposite Milton Mamet's desk, Daryl with his hands uncomfortably on his spread knees, impatiently tapping one with a finger. Rick was leaning against a bookcase, and Andrea sat in a chair to the side of the mayor's desk with a notepad in her lap. "We could sell the booze and the cigars in the café," Andrea suggested. "In return for extra hours of work above the minimum required for the rations. We'd get more vegetables planted that way, more repairs done, more cleaning…"

"Not a bad idea," Milton agreed.

"We also brought lots of clothes," Carol told him. "In various sizes for the growing kids."

"I did see that. We could definitely use that." Milton lay down the paper. They haggled until they agreed on what Fun Kingdom would get in exchange – mostly fresh vegetables and preserves. "I'll draw up the trade, and the council will have to approve it tonight. You're staying a day?"

Carol nodded. She glanced at Daryl. "Or longer, I suppose, if Abraham doesn't come back tonight. Since Daryl volunteered to go with the team to check on them."

Daryl shifted uneasily in the chair.

[*]

"We put an air mattress in the nursery for you two," Rick told the couple as he led them into their townhouse. "Sophia can sleep on the living room couch. Make yourself at home. I've got patrol rounds. Lori should be home in an hour. The kids will be at the party for another hour and a half, likely."

Carol put her pack and rifle in the closet. Daryl leaned his bow against the crib and dropped his pack on the floor. The walls were painted a sky blue and decorated with characters from Winnie the Pooh. "You pissed off?" Daryl asked.

"About you volunteering for a potentially dangerous mission tomorrow?" Carol pressed down with her foot on the air mattress to test its firmness. "I'd say I'm more worried than pissed off, although we might have discussed it first."

"Ain't 'bout Sophia."

"We had plans to return to Fun Kingdom tomorrow. That meant we were going to be home for Christmas morning. Now that probably won't happen. I have presents all wrapped-up for the kids under the tree, and I won't get to see them open them. I won't get to see Mika's face. She's like a little sister to Sophia, and now Sophia won't be with her for Christmas. Your plans affect us, too."

"Sorry," he muttered. "Just…I was tryin' to help."

"I know. You're always willing to put yourself out there for other people. You don't hesitate when something that requires courage needs to be done. It's one of the things I love about you. It's just…sometimes the things I love about you are also highly inconvenient." She kissed his cheek. "Take my rifle. It''ll be a lot better than your crossbow or handgun if you get in a gunfight."

[*]

They had dinner with the Grimes and Andrea around their sturdy oak dining room table, beneath a classic chandelier. Lori was not a good cook, but Carol pretended the meal was almost as good as what they typically ate back in Fun Kingdom. The couple seemed more relaxed in their own home in a larger town. There was none of the passive aggressive bickering that had come to define Rick and Lori's interactions at the House of the Future. Maybe this change had been good for their marriage.

Carl and Sophia chattered away, and after dinner, three boys came over to play Dungeons and Dragons. The eleven-year old Owen showed up first, and was soon followed by the almost sixteen-year-old Jody, who flipped his skateboard up and rested it against the wall by the front door. He shed his coat and hung it on the golden coat rack but kept his gray knit cap on. Finally, the fifteen-year-old Patrick arrived. As he hung up his coat, he said, "Thank you, Mr. Grimes, for that Lego set. I got the car put together."

"Well, I looted it for Carl to play with…" Rick shot a nostalgic look in his son's direction. "But lately he's been more interested in taking apart and putting together firearms."

Jody snorted. "Legos? Seriously?"

"I'm not ashamed they're for under twelve," Patrick said, but he looked embarrassed.

"I like Legos, too," Sophia reassured Patrick. "Luke and I put together a castle last week. If I'd known you liked them, I would have brought you a set. There's like…eight sets of castle Legos in the Medieval Kingdom gift shop."

Patrick smiled sheepishly. "Well, I can't blame you for not knowing. I mean, you didn't even know I existed."

"I knew you existed. Carl mentioned you."

"Yeah?" asked Patrick, looking surprised. "What he say about me?"

Sophia glanced at Carl. "D&D time!" Carl practically shouted.

Jody followed Carl into the kitchen where they would be playing in the breakfast nook, saying, "Please don't go on and on with all the storytelling this time."

Daryl went out for a smoke and Rick disappeared with him, so Carol volunteered to help Lori with the dishes.

As Patrick spilled out his dice on the kitchen table, Sophia compliment the craftmanship. "Yours are cool, too," he told her.

"Well, I didn't carve mine."

Carol handed Lori a plate to dry.

"Was that other guy with Mr. Grimes your dad?" Patrick asked.

"He's my…" Sophia paused. She seemed uncertain what to say. "He's uh…He's Daryl. He's my mom's…boyfriend." Sophia said the word boyfriend as if it didn't quite feel right to her.

"Oh," Patrick said. "That's cool." He turned to Carl. "So where in the dungeon are we now?"

[*]

When Carol stepped outside, Daryl was on the last puff of his cigarette. "Is Lori complaining I didn't stay to help with the dishes?" Rick asked.

"Well, you might have," Carol suggested. "She's as pregnant house right now."

"She's still in her second trimester," Rick insisted. "I think," he muttered, and there was the briefest flash of darkening in his eyes before he fought down the doubt again. "I'll go see what still needs to be done," he said as he went inside.

Daryl stubbed his cigarette out beneath his heel. "Soph having fun?"

"She seems to be." Carol zipped up the jacket she'd thrown on. "Let's go for a walk and see if Rosita has heard from Abraham yet."

Daryl nodded. He wrapped his poncho up over his shoulder. The streetlamps were on now, those classic black iron ones Carol used to see in old movies, with the electric candles inside. Woodbury was quaint. She'd give it that.

"Think Rosita's house is the other way," Daryl said as they walked.

"The stars are pretty. It's not too cold. Let's take the long way around."

"A'ight."

They strolled in silence, looking about the town, occasionally nodding to someone who was out and about. A patrolling soldier reminded them that curfew was ten p.m.

"Got a curfew?" Daryl muttered.

"It probably makes security easier," Carol said. She smiled. "Ten p.m. is past my bedtime anyway."

"Bet Soph is gonna want to stay up later tonight."

"I'm okay with that."

"Yeah, me too," Daryl agreed. "She's havin' fun."

When they were near a garden with a picnic bench, Carol sat down and patted the wood beside herself. Daryl joined her, slouched, and stretched an arm over the back of the bench behind her.

"I've been thinking," she said.

He sat up a little straighter. "'Bout…?"

She concentrated on the winter vegetables greening the garden as she spoke. "I thought maybe I didn't want to get married again, after what I went through with Ed. I love you, and I know I want to be with you, but I thought maybe I didn't want it to be official, because then I could feel more…self-sufficient somehow. Freer. I could just be Miss Murphy. My own person. I don't know how to explain it, exactly." She sighed. "But today, I realized I was being selfish. Because it's not just about me. It's about Sophia, too."

She finally looked at Daryl now. He seemed confused and waited silently for her to continue.

"I think it would give Sophia more stability if we got formally married," Carol told him. "As formally as we can in this world. A wedding like Glenn and Maggie had. I may be confident you're not going anywhere…but Sophia needs to know that, too. She needs to know exactly what she is to you, that she's not just the daughter of your girlfriend. So, I want us to get married. What do you say?"

She expected him to look stunned, maybe a little uneasy, but instead he smirked. He threw her words at the lake back at her: "Is that a proposal? 'Cause if it were, be a rather dissapointin' one."

She laughed. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"You wanna get married for Sophia?"

"Yes."

Daryl nodded. "A'right. Let's do it. Let's get hitched. I'll put a ring on your finger."

"I don't need a ring. It would just get in the way when I'm killing walkers and such."

"Want you to wear a ring," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why? I thought you didn't care."

"I don't care." His eyes darted around Woodbury. "But…uh…people'll round here. Seem to care. Seem to look at ring fingers when they see a pretty woman. Like Tom the Head Electrician."

Carol chuckled. "You want me to wear a ring so that every man knows I'm not available?"

Daryl shrugged.

She sat sideway to face him better, with her leg bent and her knee up on the bench, just touching his leg. "You don't trust me just to tell them?"

"This way you ain't gotta."

"Well, according to Rick, I may still have to. But I'll wear a ring, Pookie, if you want me to."

He put a hand inside his poncho to fish in a deep pocket of his cargo pants. "One of these?" He held his palm open to reveal four, hand-carved, walnut-brown wooden bands.

Carol took one from his hand to examine it. It had a jasmine flower carved in the center.

"Same craftsman made that knife, I think," Daryl said. "Was in that same consignment case. Went lookin' for a Christmas gift for ya yesterday…thought…I didn't know what the hell to get you. Thought you might like it. You like it?"

"It's beautiful but…Why four?"

"All different sizes. Didn't know yours. Figured you could pick the one that fit best."

"So…you were going to propose on Christmas?" Carol asked. "Formally?"

"Nah. Was just gonna give 'em to you. In a box. For a present. Was hopin' to get Lori to wrap 'em for me. But could work, right? For a weddin' ring?"

"Well, it is that kind of band." Carol slid one on now. It was too big. She tried another. Then another. "This one." She wiggled her fingers. "Do any of them fit you?"

"They're girls' rings!"

"Well, if I'm wearing a ring, you have to wear a matching one."

He looked down at the three remaining rings in his palm.

"They look a like wedding bands," she said. "I don't think they're girls' rings."

"Got a flower on 'em. Every one."

"Matchy matchy," she said and wiggled her fingers again.

He growled like a ruffled puppy as he returned the extra rings to his pocke.t "How 'bout I just get your name tattooed round m'finger?"

"And who's going to do that for you?"

"Bet Oscar can do it. He's one of those ex-prisoners. Said I liked his ink earlier today. Said he did it himself in prison."

"You're serious? About tattooing my name on your finger?"

"Sure. I'd probably just lose a ring."

"Daryl, that's going to hurt."

"Pffft."

"On a finger! There's no muscle."

"Your name's short. Won't hurt for long."

She laughed and shook her head. "What if you get tired of me? Then you're stuck with my name on your finger."

"Ain't never gonna get tired of you." He leaned in and kissed her.

When he pulled away, she said, "Well, yes to your marriage proposal, but I'm not sure about the tattoo yet. Sleep on that one."

"Think you're the one proposed to me."

"That's not the story we're going to tell other people, Pookie." She patted his knee. "You got down on one knee and had a very nice speech."

"Yeah, what I say?"

"You quoted Shakespeare."

"Pfffft!"

Carol's eyes twinkled in the lamp light.

"You got a real pretty smile," he told her. "Like seein' you happy. Let's get married."

"Let's," she agreed. She looked at the ring again before sliding it from her finger. "Wrap it nicely and put it under the tree. I'll act surprised. Although…I guess we're probably not spending Christmas in Fun Kingdom, since it's after sunset and Abraham's not back."

"I'll tell her no," Daryl said decisively. "Tell Rosita I ain't goin'. I understand she's got to go out lookin' for her man. By my woman…my wife…she's right here."

Carol leaned in and kissed him softly, with her fingertips resting lightly on his cheek. "Thank you, Pookie," she whispered as she pulled away. "But you're going."

"What?"

"I don't want you to, but you already said yes. You're a man of honor. A man of your word. And I won't be the reason you break it."

"Goddamn I love you, Miss Murphy."

"I love you, too."

They were kissing when a shout went up and down the street and the front gate was pulled open. There was further shouting as the drawbridge went down, and then shots were fired from the wall.

Daryl and Carol bolted upright. His bow and her rifle were back at Rick's, but they still had handguns and knives on their hips. They ran toward the chaos.