Two chapters up today to make up for the unforgivable amount of time I made you wait for these (so if you just landed here, catch up on the previous one first).

Chapter 75 - Timing

Under normal circumstances, the drive to Charlottesville would have taken under three hours. They planned to take more like three days.

They looped through backroads, drove slow and stopped often – sometimes their reasons were warranted (to scope or scavenge); but mostly they were frivolous (Tahlia felt like watching the clouds here; Daryl felt like skimming stones there; Tahlia wanted to climb this tree; Daryl wanted to carve their names into that one).

They sidetracked to walk in the woods or climb hills, they moved without urgency and felt like, just for a little while, the world was on pause for them. Not that they were naïve enough to think that they were ever safe. There were still walkers everywhere. People too, though much fewer of them, to Daryl's relief.

He preferred walkers. At least they were predictable.

On their first afternoon they intersected with a small group of young, filthy nomads who initially tried to rob them, but after Tahlia managed to engage one of them in idle chit chat and found something in common (God, Daryl would be forever baffled by her ability to do this) they all ended up laying down their arms and sharing war stories over a meal before parting ways with all their belongings intact. Then, just hours later, they'd parked up behind a barn which turned out to be the home of a deceptively wholesome looking quartet that, with both words and weapons, fiercely forced them to move on or else.

Now it was the afternoon of the second day, and they hadn't come across any more of the living, and that was exactly how Daryl hoped it would stay. Under the high afternoon sun, they were relatively cool beneath the tree canopy as they wandered through the woods, a hare strung on Daryl's hunting line and the only sound the constant chatter of the wildlife above and burble of the stream alongside.

"This feels like old times." Tahlia expressed happily as she trailed after Daryl through the undergrowth.

"Y'always say that like us hangin' in the woods was decades back 'stead of just a few weeks ago." he scoffed good-naturedly.

"Well, a week in this world is worth like, five years in the old one."

Daryl shot her a mischievous look over his shoulder. "Shit, well I wasn't gonna say nothin', but yeah, you're startin' to look pretty wrinkled up."

"How dare you! I'm still a fountain of youth!" faux-huffed Tahlia, throwing a stick at him which he easily ducked.

"Damn, and your aim's off, too. Your eyesight goin' now as well, grandma?"

Unclipping her water bottle, Tahlia flung that at him which he managed to deflect, then in a go-hard-or-go-home move, she pulled off her pack and lobbed the whole thing at him too.

Catching it while trying to keep a straight face, Daryl then discarded everything he was carrying. "Right. That's it. Ya want old times?"

He stomped straight for her and although Tahlia managed to evade him once, she was laughing too hard to make it twice, and soon found herself tackled and squashed under him.

"Oof! Daryl!" she choked out. "Goddammit!"

"How's this?" he asked, pinning her arms above her head, his body squarely holding hers down. "This bringin' back all them memories of every single time I kicked your ass?"

"Whatever!" sassed Tahlia as she struggled beneath him. "Half of those times was me letting you win so that your giant male ego didn't get too bruised."

Daryl snorted at that and nipped her jaw. "That right? This you lettin' me win, huh?"

"Yes…! This… is me… luring you into a… fuck me, you're heavy!" complained Tahlia as she tried unsuccessfully to wriggle free, "A… false sense of security!"

Making no headway whatsoever, she stilled for a moment to get her breath back, and then became aware of Daryl, hard against her hip.

"Oh, re-eally?" she smirked with an arched brow, the whole tone of the game changing in an instant.

"Don't mean nothin'." he defended loftily. "Just on account of you wigglin' all 'round."

"What, you mean like this?" she teased as she began a slow and purposeful roll of her hips.

"Quit it." he grunted, although he reflexively pushed back against her, his eyes molten with desire already.

"Why would I do that when I'm getting the upper hand?"

"Y'ain't gettin' shit."

But then he dropped his head and scraped his teeth down her neck, then worked his way to the hollow at the base of her throat swirling his tongue there for a lazy moment before trailing up to her lips, the taste of her sparking his hunger, intensifying his craving.

Instinctively opening to him, Tahlia breathed his name into his mouth as he shifted his elbows to either side of her shoulders and slipped a knee in between her thighs, forcing her legs apart, replying to her with unspoken urgency - lips bruising, tongue searching, body heavy.

Her body thrumming in response, Tahlia was unable to help grinding herself down against his thigh as she wrapped her arms tightly around him to bring him closer, never close enough.

And then, abruptly, he pulled back from her, his expression serious. "'Kay. Gotta stop. Dangerous."

A little miffed at his sudden disengagement, Tahlia loosened her arms and raised her brows. "Dangerous?! I'll tell you what's dangerous – you walking around with that fully loaded weapon in your pocket."

Snorting at that, Daryl bit her shoulder. "Jackass."

But because he hadn't actually made any move away from her, she took her chances and began rhythmically pressing up into him again, her fingers stealing under his shirt to draw lazy circles on his skin, her tongue fluttering over the shell of his ear, while the leaves in her hair and the twigs digging into her back faded into irrelevance.

Daryl let out a low, needful groan as he responded to her once more, but gave a little shake of his head, his mouth against her chin when he said,

"Mean it, Tahly. Gotta stop. Ain't safe."

"Why aren't you stopping then?" she asked, her tone suggestive and syrup-slow as she arched against him.

"Am." he grunted, slipping one hand up under her top. "Stoppin' right now. Just after I… fuck. Why ya got so many fuckin' clothes on?" he complained as he struggled to fit his hand beneath the underwire of her bra, eventually settling for thumbing her nipple over top of the flimsy material.

With a gasping laugh, Tahlia breathily replied, "I think this is about the minimum requirements in our society. Underwear and one layer on top. Don't know if I could get away with much less."

"Just wear a robe at all times." teased Daryl lustfully as he pulled his hand free. "Easy access."

Then, eyes darkening, he sat up on his knees and, with animalistic ferocity, grabbed the neckline of her t-shirt and tore it straight down to her bellybutton, then dragged her bra down to release her breasts, a growl of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. Tahlia's giggle at his savagery quickly morphed into stuttering moans as he dropped his head and lavished her hardened peaks with attention.

"Really fuckin' mean it, Tahly." reiterated Daryl languidly, his lips wrapped around her right nipple and his fingers scissoring her left. "Can't… do this here."

"No, I know… we definitely shouldn't… oh fuck…" Her curse was half-swallowed by Daryl's mouth back on hers again, his hand slipping all the way down inside her damp panties.

"You ain't listenin', babygirl," he murmured, rolling to one side as he moved his fingers over her with practiced ease, relishing the way he was making her pitch and tremble, "Said we gotta stop. But look at ya. Still goin'."

Bucking into his hand, she shook her head, her pupils blown, her breath shallow snatches of air. "Don't stop… I want…"

Reaching down to unzip his pants, she took hold of his length, hot and hard against her palm, making him hiss with every stroke and twist of her soft hand. Somehow she also managed – albeit gracelessly – to kick her boots and pants off (her pants and panties were still caught around her left ankle, but that wasn't going to hinder anything) and then suddenly rolled Daryl onto his back in the dirt and straddled him. Her eyes were wildfire, blazing for him, as she pushed his pants down just far enough, taking hold of him once more.

"Naw… really… we shouldn't…" repeated Daryl, although his words were at odds with his tone, his body, his everything, as he gripped her hips and pulled her forcibly against him.

"It's ok…" Tahlia breathed, halfway gone already at the feel of him, the fucking anticipation of him enough to burst her open. "I'll just keep… my eyes open for… anything coming up from that way, and you keep watch… behind me. Be fine."

Gazing up at her with ragged lust, Daryl shook his head, but whether it was in protest or submission, neither of them could be sure. Then all sensible thought went up in smoke as she raised herself up and slid straight back down onto him, heads falling back and eyes snapping shut simultaneously as they tried to keep their cries contained behind clenched teeth.

Refocusing on one another as they quickly found their rhythm, Daryl reached up to press a hand over Tahlia's mouth.

"Shh baby, shh." he urged as she rocked harder against him, and she just closed her teeth over the flesh of his palm in desperate response.

This was stupid, he knew that – fucking on the forest floor in the middle of nowhere during the apocalypse – but try telling his dick that when he had the girl of his dreams riding him like there was no tomorrow. Which ironically, he thought, there probably wouldn't be if anything or anyone happened upon them now. But, in this moment as she steadily unraveled him, he wasn't sure he could gather enough fucks to really care.

Sliding a hand up her thigh, he reached his thumb out to stroke her clit, staring, mesmerized by the way their bodies joined together, the way she fit him perfectly, the movement of her over him, slick and smooth and fucking sensational. He didn't know how one person could awaken him, ignite him like this. Not just sexually, but in every sense. Like two reactants that when mixed together became explosive, a product of such intensity it could never be achieved with anyone else. With possessive awe, he let his gaze trail upwards over her near naked body (her t-shirt still held by an inch of fabric around her hips, the sleeves long having fallen free of her arms, her bra still dangling around her waist). God, she was perfect to him. Hair tumbling around her shoulders, mouth slightly open with wet desire, a look of loose abandon on her face, her eyes closed in –

Suddenly Daryl frowned.

"Hey!" he berated her. "Ya meant to be keepin' your eyes open for any damn walkers comin' up on us!"

"Can't!" gasped Tahlia. "That just feels so... oh God, Daryl!"

Clamping his big hands around her hips to still her, Daryl laid motionless while holding her firm and Tahlia gave a distressed yelp, eyes flying open. Attempting to keep the movement, the sensation, going, she tried to rock her hips, but was met with resistance from his fingers locking her tight, and she glared down at him as he gave a resolute shake of his head.

"Alright, alright! I'm fucking looking!" she conceded testily, hastily dragging her gaze over their surroundings. "See? No damn walkers anywhere to be seen, I swear!" Then she leaned her hands on his shoulders and arched a brow, her voice dropping to a low purr. "Anyway, you're meant to be keeping an eye out for anything coming up behind me, but I know that you've just been staring at my pussy the whole time."

Daryl gave a primal growl. "Ain't true. Been starin' at ya tits too."

Laughing lightly at that, Tahlia planted her hands on either side of his head and leaned forward, kissing him roughly. "Fuck, I love you."

Then she gasped against him as, with his hands still locked around her hips, he took the lead and began to thrust up into her hard and fast, and she moved against him in kind. He could feel her spiraling, coming undone, and then she gave herself over to him and collapsed flat against his chest. Then, with her trembling and moaning, he forced her to the edge, slowed for an agonizing second, suspended her there, her body tensing in desperate expectation until he released her, and she burst into quivering pieces around him while he pushed harder, faster, until he shattered into tiny incandescent pieces as well.

With Tahlia's body limp on top of his, damp and breathless, Daryl stroked her back as he cast a hurried glance around them to check for danger, the idiocy of what they'd done barreling into him like a freight train.

"Up now, girl. Get dressed."

"Can't move. You broke me." she said, muffled against his neck.

Giving her a sharp slap on the butt, Daryl repeated his instruction, and Tahlia reluctantly sat up, easing herself off him and gasping at the sensation on her still-sensitive flesh.

"How did I end up being practically naked and you're not at all." She motioned to Daryl who had already fastened his belt and was on his feet.

Daryl just shook his head, a tight look on his face as he steadied her while she stepped back into her panties.

"Ugh! Cold!" She made a distasteful face as she pulled them up, then followed with her pants.

"We shouldn'ta done that, Tahly." he said, his voice low with worry. "Like this, out here. Fuckin' stupid."

"I know." she agreed, righting her bra. "I know. But I just…" Gesturing at him helplessly, she shrugged. "You're very irresistible, you know. When you're too close to me, my brain shuts down."

Now that they were both nearly fully clothed and not in immediate danger, Daryl's tension began to evaporate, and he quirked his lips at her comment.

"Yeah? Well, damn, guess it's up to me to try and be sensible enough for both of us. So that ain't happenin' again."

"Aww." Tahlia gave him a small smile, her eyes glittering with the freshness of it all. "But it was so good."

"Yeah, babygirl." he conceded softly. "It was. We just need to pick safer places, 'kay?"

She nodded, then pulled the sleeves of her t-shirt on, glancing down at the torn fabric, only the hem still in place, her lacy black bra and midriff on display.

"Um, excuse me, what I am meant to do with this? It's basically a jacket now."

"Looks good to me." grinned Daryl appreciatively, blocking her swipe at him. "Alright." He shucked off his leather vest, then raised a brow. "Put that on."

Tahlia rolled her eyes. "The same amount will be on display with this."

"I know." he murmured. "But put it on. Just for now. Just for me."

A half smile playing on her lips, a wanton glimmer in her eyes, Tahlia shimmied her destroyed t-shirt to the ground, then swung his vest on, spun around in a slow circle, finishing up by propping one hand on her hips and using the other to twirl her hair out over her shoulder.

At the sight of her in leather and lace with a freshly fucked glow on her face and a simmering desire for round two in her eyes, Daryl gave a hard swallow and cursed under his breath, then in one stride he was on her, lifting her off her feet and backing her into the nearest tree. A small cry of surprise spilled from Tahlia as her back caught bark, for the most part protected by the leather, but she soon collected herself and wrapped her legs around his waist as he crashed his lips to hers.

A snarling from behind the tree sent them hurtling back to earth, Tahlia dropping her feet to the ground as Daryl sighed into her mouth.

Pulling away he dashed a couple of steps back for his crossbow, raising it and firing just as a walker rounded the tree, hands inches from Tahlia's shoulder. Tahlia hadn't bothered to move. Daryl was always fast, always accurate. A spray of blood across her neck and a dull thud as the walker hit the dirt at her feet told her that this time was no different.

"Shit, sorry." Daryl picked up the torn t-shirt and started gently wiping the blood from her skin, pausing only to press one chaste kiss to her lips. "Obviously my brain shuts down 'round you, too. Lucky that guy's timing wasn't any earlier. But that was still too close. Can't get all carried away no more." He mopped up the last of the blood then stood back to survey her, shaking his head. "Shoulda never asked ya to put that on. Too damn hot."

Unbuttoning his shirt, he slipped it off and handed it to her. "Here. Swap."

Tahlia complied, quickly donning Daryl's shirt as he pulled his leather vest over his bare shoulders, his muscular frame glinting in the dappled late afternoon light.

"I like that look much better on you." she drawled, raking her eyes over him, then reached out towards his chest. "Makes me want to..."

"Naw!" Daryl quickly smacked her hand away then hopped a step back from her. "No more touchin'.

"Aw!" pouted Tahlia. "But we're on our honeymoon!"

"That ain't what this is!" he admonished her, then sighed and revised. "'Kay, then - no more touchin' 'til we're back at the RV."

"Great! Let's get our shit and go right now!" Tahlia tossed Daryl's things to him and quickly shouldered her pack before brusquely setting off into the trees.

"Don't be too eager, girl!" Daryl called after her with a wry smile. "Gotta find somewhere to park up for the night first!"

"That wasn't part of the deal!" she shouted back. "Hurry up!"

Back at the RV, Daryl, citing his position as the sensible one out of the two of them and the need for safety first, managed to wrangle Tahlia into the passenger seat (although she refused to give his shirt back, so he swapped out his vest for a long-sleeved black tee) before he took the wheel and they started out on the road again.

An empty ribbon unfurled ahead, rolling fields either side and a spectacular palette of colour splashed out in front melting from burnt orange to gauzy lilac to darkling navy as the sun slid below the peaks of the Blue Ridge mountains in the distance.

"So," said Daryl, leaning forward on the steering wheel to peer out the windscreen. "Ain't too far from Charlottesville. Thought we'd find somewhere nearby to hole up then do the last few miles in the mornin'."

"Perfect." replied Tahlia, contentedly drinking in the beautiful scenery.

A small wayside gas station rose up out of the otherwise unoccupied land up ahead, and Daryl slowed down as they passed it.

"Should probably check for gas. Ya never know."

Parking on the verge about fifty yards beyond it, Daryl gave Tahlia a pointed look. "Keepin' our vehicle well clear coz you got a history of blowin' up gas stations."

As they started trudging back down the road, Tahlia hitched a shoulder innocently. "Funny how the part about me saving your ass that day always seems to slip your mind."

Daryl gave her a withering look and flicked her arm. "Ya did not."

"Did too."

"Did not. Anyway, I've still chalked up a whole lot more saves of your ass than you got of mine."

"Nah," Tahlia waved a hand dismissively as she tried to hide her smile. "Reckon we're about even."

Daryl let out an incredulous huff. "Ain't no way we're even close! I lost count of the times I've pulled your ass outta the fire. Half of 'em fires you set yourself, by the way." he added drily, giving her a shove.

Laughing, she shoved him right back and he caught her hand, holding on to her as they covered the last few yards to the station.

Nearly upon it, everything seemed still and quiet and, Daryl thought, the place had probably looked as dilapidated when it was operating back in the day as it did now. There were two pumps on the potholed forecourt, a small, shabby looking convenience store beyond and behind that, another rickety building which, according to what they could glean from the weary sign, was a rent-a-room for truckies and motorists who needed a bed for a night when they were passing through. Parked haphazardly in the lot out the back, they could see three pickups and a couple of box trucks, but carefully inspecting the ground, Daryl was satisfied that there were no signs of recent movement.

"'Looks empty." he remarked as they made their way across the forecourt towards the store. "But if shit turns, we get straight outta here. 'Kay?"

Tahlia nodded faintly. The place was so eerily tranquil that she half-expected a tumbleweed to go bouncing in front of them to complete the imagery.

Peering in through the smashed windows at the front of the store, they could see that the place had been looted long ago – the inside was in disarray, shelves knocked over, trash littered the floors, and everything was covered in a thin layer of dust.

"Oh my God." said Tahlia, crouching down and pointing to a corner of red plastic sticking out from amongst debris on the floor. "Is that a bag of Red Vines under that shelf?! Tell me it is!"

"Probably just the wrappin'. Tahly! Stop! Lemme go first!" hissed Daryl, grabbing her arm.

She shook him free with a frown. "And let you claim them? I don't think so."

Ignoring Daryl's grousing, she carefully picked her way through the broken glass, then paused to listen intently before moving further inside. Pushing some of the trash aside with her foot, she reached down and grabbed the bag before holding it triumphantly in the air.

"Unopened! Well, at least it was." she said, ripping the top open and pulling out a licorice string.

"Hook me up." demanded Daryl, crunching on over to join her.

"No way. All mine."

"Nuh-uh. What's yours is mine, wifey." he grinned, reaching over her shoulder to snag one for himself and kissing her on the cheek at the same time. "'Kay, let's do a real quick sweep then go."

Tahlia made her way over to the counter, swiftly putting down a walker half crushed under a fallen shelf on her way, while Daryl moved in the opposite direction to the back of the store, both of them discovering a few decent items in amongst the mess.

A door at the back of the shop was barricaded, and as Daryl got closer, he gave a low whistle to get Tahlia's attention.

"Reckon there's walkers in here."

She shook her head. "Leave it. Let's check around back first."

Once they'd scavenged a small box of things to take with them – Daryl's prize find a sealed cannister of butane (to which Tahlia yawned, 'boring'), while Tahlia's was a bobblehead pug dog that would take pride of place on the RV dash ('fuckin' ugly and useless', in Daryl's opinion) – they cautiously made their way out of the store and around to the back lot.

Side by side they stood on the asphalt and assessed the scene in front of them.

Two walkers shuffling their way – they'd deal with those shortly. A pickup and a box truck were parked on the far side, and someone had obviously tried to siphon the gas from the pickup at some point as a hose was still hanging from the fuel tank, a jerry can on the ground below. And just to the right, perhaps the would-be gas thief – a body with half its head blown off. The squat-shaped, run-down, rent-a-room building backing onto the store wasn't particularly big, so couldn't be more than 4 or 5 rooms plus general living quarters, and the rickety old wooden door in front was pulsating and groaning under the slapping hands of walkers on the other side.

"I should check that gas can out." remarked Daryl, not taking his eyes off the lodging house door. "But that door's gonna give for sure."

"Yep." agreed Tahlia. "Let it. I'll take down whatever comes out. You go get the fuel."

"Dunno how many walkers there'll be."

"Soon find out, I suppose."

Turning to her, Daryl's eyes were bright and hard with concern. "If there's too many, leave. Run straight for the RV and I'll meet ya there."

"Ok."

"Tahly." His voice tremulous. A warning. A plea. "I mean it. Can't have nothin' happen to ya."

Squeezing his arm, she gazed up at him solemnly. "If there's too many, I'll run. I promise."

He stared at her for a moment, then gave a firm nod as he jogged across the lot and she moved closer to the shaking door, each taking a walker out on the way.

Pleased to find that whoever had been trying to steal the gas must have been interrupted because there was indeed still some left in the tank, Daryl laid his crossbow on the ground and set about siphoning what was left into the jerry can when a loud crack and crunch had him spinning in worry.

The door had burst open – splintered, really – and there seemed to be plenty of walkers looking to make their way outside and straight to Tahlia, who had her katana at the ready.

"Tahly!" yelled Daryl, ready to abandon all this in a second to whisk her away from danger.

"I've got it!" she called back. "They're taking their sweet time!"

Giving it a few seconds to see for himself, he realized she was right – the way that the door had splintered meant that only a couple of the undead could push out towards her at a time and, satisfied that she was easily in control of the situation, he turned his attention back to filling the jerry can.

"Still goin'?" he shouted over his shoulder.

"If one of them just had the sense to push that bit of doorframe out the way, then they could get their rotting asses out here and into my sword much faster! Think I should go do it for them?"

"Don't ya fuckin' dare!" he laughed, shaking his head.

When he'd extracted all he could out of that tank, he dragged the can and the hose over to the box truck, depositing them on the ground as he folded his arms and turned to watch Tahlia.

It had been a while since he'd seen her like this – gracefully dancing and ducking her way through grasping undead hands, artfully swinging her sword all the while. Just to keep things interesting for herself, she'd let a few more bodies surround her and was adding extra flourish and flair to her every move.

Typically theatrical, thought Daryl, rolling his eyes, although really, she had him near spellbound. He could watch her all day.

"Don't need me to come and save your ass again, do ya?"

"No, thank you!" she replied haughtily as she executed a particularly complex spin. "I won't be letting you get any more of those notches on your belt any time soon!" And then she sliced a walker's head in half just to punctuate her point. "Don't you worry, I've got this. You just stand there and look pretty." She threw him a sassy look over her shoulder, then her expression snapped to serious in a second.

"Dar! Down below!"

Reacting immediately, Daryl whirled around and looked down just as a pair of decaying hands snaked out from under the truck, closing around his ankle as the walker attached to them attempted to drag itself closer. With an irritated curse, he whipped out his knife and drove it forcefully down through the soft skull.

It came down to unfortunate timing, really. What happened next.

The force of his strike had lodged the blade in the bone, requiring an almighty yank to free it, which would have been fine had the dead hands not still been locked around his ankle. Unbalanced a little, he threw his left arm out to the side in an effort to steady himself, and that's when a second walker staggered out from the front of the truck.

Its bloodshot milky eyes widened in voracity at the fresh meat within reach, and, hands already raised, caught Daryl's arm with its bony fingers.

With one ankle still immobilized by the dead hands under the truck, Daryl couldn't turn quick enough to strike at the walker to his left, nor was he balanced enough to pull away.

Daryl was vaguely aware of Tahlia screaming his name, but everything became muted, water-logged, as time slowed to a lazy swirl around him, and the only thing in focus was the feel of the shredded fingers around his arm, grip pinching, and the sight of the corpse leaning forward, maw slavering, clamping its jaw firmly down onto his forearm.

And to soften the blow of leaving you on a cliffhanger, for those who are interested I've posted the first couple of chapters of a Daryl/Tahlia AU story, it's called: In Need of Your Demons.

And you'll get to feel the slow burn allll over again :D