AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

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

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

What Carol felt, looking over Andrea and Sophia as they lie curled together, was nothing short of a rush of maternal tenderness—and she felt it for both of them at the moment. She wished both of them, silently, a good night. She carried the little camping lantern with her that she'd brought from her tent, and she eased out of the room that she'd only just stepped into to reassure herself that all was well.

Carol closed the door behind her as quietly as she could. The rest of the RV had been converted for comfortable sleeping, and Glenn and Dale were already in pajamas.

"You're sure you're not…I…I don't want you to be put out," Carol said, keeping her voice low and directing her concerns toward Dale.

Sophia had asked Dale, herself, if she could sleep in the RV. She was nervous about being outside, still, and the RV was as close to being inside as she could be without imposing on the family that they all felt should have at least part of their home back. Carol hadn't known about Sophia's request until Dale had approached her to make sure that was fine. Sophia had asked, as well, if her Aunt Andrea could sleep with her. Dale, of course, hadn't minded that, since he'd taken it up on himself to keep an eye on Andrea since Merle hadn't returned from Atlanta.

"Everyone is comfortable," Dale insisted. "And I feel better knowing they're both in here."

"If you need me or—anything…" Carol said.

Dale laughed quietly.

"Get some rest, Carol. I'm sure most of us will be busy tomorrow."

Carol swallowed down a wave of amusement at Dale's words and bid him and Glenn both a goodnight. Then, she stepped out of the RV, lantern in hand, and started toward their tent on the proverbial outskirts of the tent city that they'd built in the area Hershel had indicated as being appropriate for a veritable shanty-town.

Dale's words had contained a somewhat coated barb, no doubt, at Rick, Lori, and Shane.

Following the explosion of the morning, everyone had busied themselves. The shanty town had been erected. They'd gotten a pump working for one of the cattle wells that had been out of service for some time. Hershel had clearly appreciated the hand with that, and T-Dog and Glenn had been happy to get it working with the help of Jimmy. Carol, Andrea, Sophia, and Jacqui had gathered the food that Jo needed gathered, making sure none went to rot, leaving Maggie and Beth to deal with the livestock without worry. They'd promised to help with laundry, too, as soon as another day allowed them the opportunity to do so. Daryl had gone hunting, and he'd brought home a deer. He'd also run some snares, and Carol had heard him discussing, with Hershel, the possibility of building a rabbit hutch to raise and breed rabbits for food. In addition, the old man had discussed, over dinner, the desire to build a smokehouse for keeping meat to go with everything they had and would can for the winter—if Daryl was willing to lend a hand on both building and stocking it.

A good meal had been prepared, everyone had eaten, and Carol had been sure that the kitchen was clean before she'd taken her bath.

Carol had no idea what had happened when Rick, Shane, and Lori disappeared out the screen door. Maggie had reported that they'd headed out across the field, Lori leading the way, but if there had been some sort of confrontation, nobody really knew about it.

The three of them had come back, much in the same way that they'd left, some hours after their disappearance. Lori had immediately reinstated herself in Carl's room, and Rick and Shane had seemed to disappear again, both reappearing from time to time like apparitions, neither looking like they wanted any sort of discussion with anyone or with each other.

Tomorrow, Carol was sure, things would be different. Tomorrow, they would have another discussion about things. Maybe, even, they would be able to reach some kind of resolution.

Today, maybe they had all done the best they could.

Carol stepped through the opening in the tent she was sharing with Daryl. It was comfortable, really. Spacious. It kept out the wind and, with the somewhat cool temperatures, it was pleasant.

Daryl was waiting for her, and Carol immediately started stripping out of the clothes she'd put on after her shower, folding them and putting them to the side so that she could wear them the next day.

"You gettin' too thin," Daryl offered.

"Thank you for that dose of self-consciousness," Carol said, only half-teasing.

"Don't mean it like that," Daryl said. "Mean it like—I'm concerned. I'm bringin' in food now. You need to be sure some of it's goin' in your mouth. I don't like you losin' weight."

"Ed would have said it was a vast improvement," Carol said. "I've always had plenty of weight to lose."

"You ain't never had an ounce to spare," Daryl said.

"Too bad I don't lose it where I need to," Carol said.

She came immediately to Daryl, without waiting for an invitation or asking permission. Wearing nothing more than her bra and panties—the final things that remained to give him an opportunity to let her know what kind of mood he might be in—Carol came and sat on his lap, arranging herself so that she was facing him.

His hands immediately came to her sides. His fingers were calloused, and they scratched at her skin, but his touch was warm and comforting. She leaned toward him, and he met her with a kiss. She smiled when the kiss broke, and he mirrored it.

"Where the hell you think you needin' to lose it, woman?" Daryl asked, flexing his fingers against her ribcage. He leaned and kissed her collarbone. "Nothin' but bones."

Carol couldn't help but smile at him. She'd come to this relationship with an abundance of self-esteem issues and body issues. She'd brought every one of them, practically gift-wrapped, from her relationship with Ed. They weren't gone now, not by a long shot. And, really, maybe they would never be gone entirely. Still, Daryl had done a great deal toward teaching Carol that, even if she wasn't acceptable for everyone in the world, she was more than desirable for him.

"You're going to find bones if all you look for is bones," Carol chided playfully. "But—you know I carry all my weight in my stomach."

Daryl laughed quietly. He kissed her again. He nipped her lip. Holding her hips, he moved her body, clearly and unapologetically grinding her against his erection. Her breath caught at the sudden feeling of arousal, and she swallowed back her own amusement that such a thing could even be arousing to her. The corner of Daryl's mouth curled up.

"I like that, too," he said, pinching affectionately and playfully at the skin on her stomach. "Soft. Squishy. Sexy."

"I don't know if anyone ever told you, but…that's not sexy, Daryl."

"What's yours is mine, ain't it? It's mine, and I like it. Ain't that all the hell that matters? If I find it sexy and it's mine to enjoy? Besides—women need a lil' extra lovin' there. It's all part of the grand design. Makes a soft place for babies to sleep—past and future."

Before all of this, that had been a dream for them. A full-fledged family. As "Leave it to Beaver" as Dixons could ever really come.

Sophia was Carol's daughter. She was Daryl's daughter, too, and he treated her as much like his own child as he possibly could. He was doing everything he could to erase the harm that Ed had done to her. They wanted a full family, though, and Carol knew that Sophia had mentioned, more than once, her desire for a brother or sister to play with. Carol was pretty sure she saw the possibility as something like having her own living baby doll.

The world where they'd lived, planning a whole kind of life together, seemed to have been another life entirely sometimes.

Carol kissed Daryl again and held it. She felt him unsnap her bra. She shucked it off and tossed it to the side without separating their lips. As he kissed her, he cupped her breast. She shivered and felt her nipples grow hard as he rubbed one of them. Breaking the kiss, he pinched the other before he moved to lick it, bringing it more to attention. The pleasure of it buzzed between Carol's legs.

"Andrea's pregnant," Carol said. "She told me I could tell you. She wanted a night to sleep on it before she tells everyone tomorrow."

Daryl frowned and, then, after a moment, he nodded.

"You sure?"

"She took a test," Carol said. "And, really—you can tell, if you're looking, I think. I think she might've been pregnant before the rock quarry. She just didn't know it."

Daryl nodded again.

"She oughta be tellin' Merle. That's who the hell she oughta be tellin'."

"I know," Carol agreed, her chest aching. "And, I think—maybe that's why she needed a night to just sit with it."

"He'd be outta his mind," Daryl said, laughing at the sudden thought. Carol smiled in response and nodded.

"Yeah," she said. "He would. He might have even—stayed clean this time."

"Don't matter now," Daryl said. "All that matters is—lookin' out for her. Anything Hershel can do? See if it's OK?"

"Jo wanted her to talk to Hershel, but…"

"Tomorrow," Daryl finished.

"Tomorrow," Carol echoed with a nod.

"Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow," Daryl said, dismissing the subject. He kissed Carol again. This time, there was something else in the kiss. She could feel the difference in the pressure of his lips. She could practically taste it. This time, there was a sincerity in the kiss that hadn't been there when they'd just been teasing and playing with one another.

It felt so good to Carol, in that moment, that she moaned into the kiss, expressing her pleasure and appreciation. That only seemed to drive Daryl on. His fingertips from his left hand pressed into Carol's back where he'd been holding her. He lifted himself, his body lifting her as he moved. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the kiss and prolonging it—tasting him and savoring the connection that the past few days had kept them from really having.

He broke the kiss, and he was practically panting.

"Come on, now," he said, his voice low and husky. "Lift up. Push them panties aside, woman. That's all you need to do. Come on—come on to me, Carol."

Carol didn't need more invitation than that. Daryl's voice alone, at that moment, and his facial expression in the dim light of a flickering camping lantern would have been enough to have Carol anxious for just what he was suggesting. She rested her hands on his shoulders—his strong, broad shoulders—and she used them to lift herself. A thought flitted through her mind and she smiled at it—she had relied on those shoulders, many times, to hold her up in more ways than one.

She didn't have to do much more than that. Daryl's right hand slipped into the leg of her panties. He stopped a moment, using his finger to rub her and tease her. She groaned out her pleasure as he rubbed her clit. He, too, groaned. Her pleasure, and sounds of her pleasure, always spurred him on. He tugged at her panties enough to move them aside, and he lined them up. Carol lowered herself down over him, and he slid into her until he was fully seated inside her and she was resting against him again.

He fit her perfectly. He filled her entirely. It was as if they'd been made to be together, in more ways than one.

She opened her mouth to him, enjoying the feeling of her body adjusting to him and, without explanation, he licked her face before biting her neck—probably hard enough to leave a mark—and growling out his pleasure.

He bucked his hips, thrusting upward, into her, and she rolled her own hips in response. They went back and forth, testing out their abilities and the limitations of the position that they'd chosen, and Carol bit down on Daryl's shoulder—trading a mark for a mark—as his thumb found her clit and, finding just the right speed and pressure for her, drove her quickly and purposefully to an orgasm. She pulsed around him, and she knew that's what he wanted. She knew that was one of his favorite sensations. Once he had her sensitive, he continued to harass her, keeping her going as long as he could, finally lifting her up and turning both of them over so that he could thrust into her with the abandon that pleased him the most.

After he came, he relaxed against her, kissing her. She wrapped herself around him, enjoying the moment when both of them were at their most affectionate.

"I taste blood," Daryl said. "I hurt you?"

"I bit you too hard," Carol panted back. "It felt too good. You were too good. I got carried away. I'm sorry."

Daryl laughed quietly in response.

"It's a casualty I'll gladly suffer," Daryl teased.

"Someone'll say something tomorrow, if they see it," Carol said.

"Of everything that's liable to get said and thrown around tomorrow," Daryl offered, clearly pleased with himself, "I'll take if it the worst thing they got to accuse me of is fuckin' my woman good enough it drove her ass completely fuckin' wild."