AN: Here we are, another chapter here. It's a little quiet before we start the next "chapter" of life in Alexandria.

Hoping this one cheers up a certain someone who knows who she is.

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

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Daryl was acutely aware of how rough his hands were as he kneaded Carol's back muscles. He worried that he scratched her with the bits and pieces of dried skin, in particular, around his fingertips—a side effect of the nervous biting that he'd done to comfort himself for as long as he could remember.

She didn't complain, though, at all about any of his touches. In fact, she gave him satisfied hums and moans as he worked at her back, shoulders, and neck.

He was more than a little embarrassed to say that his own body was responding to her moans alone. He had no idea how she'd respond to the news—when it undoubtedly came to pass—that he'd come simply from giving her a backrub. Since they were both without clothes, she would know if she only peeked at him to see his interest resting against his thigh.

He wasn't anxious to rush things, though. He was happy to keep doing what they were doing.

She sat on her knees in front of him because that was the position that she'd chosen. He mirrored her position.

When they'd first started, she'd insisted that she could lie down on the bed, on her stomach, without harming the baby. She'd insisted that it wasn't big enough for it to matter. She may have very well been right, but Daryl's brain simply didn't care for the idea. In the most irrational way ever, he imagined that she would somehow suffocate the baby, or even crush her, if she were to lie on her stomach. He'd made a very sincere plea that, as a gift to him, she not insist on lying down that way, and Carol had decided to indulge him.

It was better this way because, as he rubbed her back, his hands could make their way around her body and touch her in ways that would have been difficult, or impossible, if she'd been lying down. His hand had already drifted, more than once, to rub against her stomach—aware that their daughter was somewhere under his palm. She must have been sleeping because Carol didn't mention her movements or kicks as she sometimes did to let him know that she was aware of her presence.

Daryl kneaded the muscles that were low in Carol's back, and he pressed his thumbs in around her spine as his hands spread out across her hips. She moaned at him in thanks, as his thumbs worked, and arched her back. When she leaned back toward him, he leaned forward to kiss her shoulder. He let his hand come free from its work to slide around her body again, pushing her back into him so that her back rested against his chest, and he moved his hand to cup her breast before he kissed the crook of her neck.

"Your tits is gettin' bigger," he offered.

Carol hummed and pushed back into him, rubbing against him, connecting them as much as she could. He moved his other hand, abandoning the back rub entirely for a moment. He spread that palm over her stomach, again, and lifted up onto his own knees to bring them close together—fitting like one spoon against another as he pressed against her back.

She would feel his erection, now, and there was nothing he could do about it. She didn't seem to mind, though, and she didn't shy away from it.

"They have to get bigger," Carol said. "They're getting ready."

"Know they got a job to do," Daryl said. Carol hummed at him. "An important one."

Carol squirmed against him as he let the hand that was pressed over her belly ease its way down to the junction between her legs. She shifted enough to spread her legs and Daryl's dick responded with a surge of interest. She moaned at him as he teased her, and he groaned at her in response.

He pulled loose from her, throbbing with his own needs at the moment, and put his hand on the back of her neck to urge her forward. She read his mind without need for drawn out discussion, and she changed her position to rest on all fours in front of him.

Daryl kissed her back and teased her with his fingers, making sure that she was as ready for him as he was for her. He was satisfied, pretty quickly, that she'd known where this was going as long as he had. She was warm, and wet, and welcoming when Daryl slid into her, and he kneaded her shoulder muscles again as she arched her back and moaned out to him in absolute satisfaction at having him inside her.

Daryl set the rhythm, for the most part, but every now and again Carol got impatient and sped them up by forcing herself back against him just a little out of his rhythm. He liked the sensation of her choosing to change things up, though, because it was a reminder that she wasn't just involved in this—allowing him to take her if that's what he so desired—she was enjoying this every bit as much as he was.

He reached his climax before she did, but it was simple enough to trail his hand around and, pulling her back against him again, to work her into finding her own release.

Carol kissed him before she left the bed and went to the bathroom. He watched her go, satisfied that there was a specific wiggle to her steps that was always evident if she tried to walk so soon after sex that she enjoyed. When she returned from the bathroom, she brought him a washcloth, and she slipped into bed beside him, this time pulling the blankets up around her.

"Massage got derailed," Daryl said, getting up to retrieve his cigarettes and ashtray. He sat on the edge of the bed and lit one. "Sorry."

Carol smiled at him. She looked almost ready to sleep, but she was clearly also happy to stay just in the land of wakefulness before closing her eyes.

"The massage was perfect," she said. "And I expected a happy ending."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"That what'cha got?" He asked. "A happy ending?"

Carol hummed.

"The happiest," she said. She shifted and he turned to look at her again, checking to make sure that she didn't need something. She was only changing her position—searching out the one that was perfect for the way she was feeling at the moment. "I think—I might be on the right path for…the happiest ending I could hope for."

Daryl hummed at her and turned his whole body so he was facing her while he smoked instead of sitting with his back mostly to her.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You," Carol said. "Her? Everything. I wasn't sure if I believed in happy endings. Especially not anymore. But now? I'm starting to think that I do."

Daryl smiled to himself.

"I weren't sure I believed in a happy anything," Daryl said. "Not really. Not for me, at least. For other people. Now I know that shit's real, though."

Carol smiled at him and trailed her finger on the bed next to her.

"You're just saying that because I did," she challenged.

"You're an idiot if you think that's true," Daryl offered her. "You gotta fuckin' know how happy you make me."

"You're willing to be domesticated," Carol teased. "My Wildman."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"For you? I'd gladly be domesticated."

"I don't mind if you stay a little bit wild," Carol said. "As long as—you come back."

Daryl snubbed out his cigarette and blew the last of the smoke out of his lungs. He leaned over and quickly pressed his lips to Carol's hand where she was trailing it along the sheet. Then he moved to let himself under the cover to lie beside her.

"I ain't goin' nowhere without you," Daryl said. "Except maybe to hunt or—on runs or somethin'." Carol hummed at him and raised her eyebrows as if to say that she'd meant just that—there were times he would leave her because that was what was necessary for both of them to have the best life they could. He laughed to himself at her smug expression. "You got a damn point, OK?" He said, faking as much irritation as he could. He wasn't very good at it, and she laughed quietly. "What I'm sayin' is—I'll always come back to you."

"So, you forgive me for—trapping you, and getting pregnant, and taking you out of the woods?" Carol asked.

"So, you did it all on purpose?" Daryl asked.

"Every bit," Carol responded.

"I knew it was a trap," Daryl said. "I knew you did it. All by yourself."

"All by myself," Carol agreed.

Daryl laughed to himself. He moved closer to her in the bed and she did the same, lifting her head and lowering it so that her face was close enough to his that they were just far enough apart that his eyes didn't have to cross to focus on her. He raised his hand up and touched her cheek.

"Some damn trick," he said. "Gettin' pregnant all on your own."

"Had to," Carol said. "It was all part of the plan."

Daryl moved enough to kiss her and she moved to tangle her fingers in his hair. He felt her scratching lazily at his scalp. He let the kiss go on as long as she wanted to keep it going—their lips separating and meeting again as they tested pressures and touches.

When the kiss did break, she smiled at him all the way to her eyes.

"I love you," she said.

Daryl couldn't help but smile back.

"You had to," he said. "That was all part of my plan." She accepted the gentle and quick kiss he offered her with the same enthusiasm as she had the long and lingering one before. "Thank you," Daryl said, when the kiss broke.

"For kissing you?" Carol asked.

"For agreein' to stay here," Daryl said. "I know you was wantin' to be alone. Go back to the little house and all to build you a private little nest for—for havin' the baby in. Thank you for agreein' to stay here. Build it here." Carol's smile changed a little. There was teasing there; he could see it. She didn't say anything, though, so he pressed her to let it out. "What?" He asked.

"Nothing," Carol said.

"What is it?" He asked. "I do something wrong or say something wrong?"

"No," she said.

"Somethin' stupid?" He asked.

"No," Carol said, laughing to herself. "You did nothing wrong and…nothing stupid. You did everything—everything—right." Her smile didn't fade, though it did soften. She reached a hand up and touched his lips with her fingertip. "You did everything right. Didn't you? You found me a doctor that will listen to me. That wants to help me. That thinks—I can do this…we can do this…and she can be OK. You found me a safe place to—build a nest. To have the baby in. You…you found me everything I need to build it." She paused a moment, but Daryl didn't interrupt her. He could tell that she wasn't done and, though his gut made him concerned that she was teasing him for something he'd done wrong—something he wasn't aware of just yet—his chest told him that she was being sincere. He could feel the affection practically radiating out from her. "You found a way to bring Henry here for me. You got me everything I need to have a safe, comfortable…private…place to have our daughter."

"You bustin' my balls?" Daryl asked.

Carol laughed.

"No, I'm not," she assured him.

"Then why are you smiling like that?" Daryl asked.

"Because—I feel absolutely amazed by you," Carol said. "And I mean that in the most sincere way I can. But I can't stop smiling because—you make me want to smile. Everything. All this. It makes me want to smile."

Daryl hummed at her. He switched off the lamp and felt around, finding his spot next to her again. He reached for her and pulled her to him. In the darkness, he kissed her face blindly—here and there—until he found her lips. She kissed him back and worked her arms around him to hold him.

He sighed, perfectly satisfied at the sensation of having her there.

"You smile as much as you want," Daryl said. "'Cause all of this? Makes my ass happy too. More'n I ever would've thought it could."