AN: This is for my Tumblr anon who wanted Cyreese as each other's secret Santa. I hope that I've done the prompt justice!

I own nothing from the Walking Dead. I own only my own characters and plots.

I hope that you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

111

Carol stared at the slip of paper that she'd grabbed from the cookie jar in the breakroom. She'd only peeked at it while in there, and then she'd quickly crumpled it and shoved it in her pocket as if someone were truly, actively trying to see who everyone had drawn for their Secret Santa exchange.

Tyreese Williams.

It wasn't that she didn't know the name. She knew it well. They worked together nearly every day. There were few people that wouldn't remember Tyreese after they met him. Physically, he was a large man that drew attention because he took up space in a room, and Carol could imagine that he was intimidating to many people who had never truly come to know him and to realize that he was one of the kindest men there was in the world.

Having escaped an abusive marriage a few years before, Carol recalled having found Tyreese's physical presence a little intimidating the first time she'd met him. She'd been acutely aware of his size and his muscles—much more impressive than those of her ex-husband. She'd been aware of the raw strength of the man, and the physical capabilities that he possessed without any doubt. All of Carol's initial fears of Tyreese had dissolved, though, within the first few moments of speaking to him.

In addition to his size and obvious physical strength, Tyreese was handsome. He was warm. He was almost magnetic. He had a smile that was genuine and welcoming. He had a laugh that was real and meaningful. He had a way about him that made anyone in his presence feel warm and happy inside, even when it was cold enough that even a steaming mug of coffee or hot chocolate couldn't thaw you entirely.

Tyreese had an air about him that, instead of making someone feel threatened, it made them feel safe.

Or, maybe, it was only Carol that had such a visceral reaction to the man.

No—it wasn't that she didn't know Tyreese Williams. It was that the man had taken something of a prominent position in her daydreams, and now she wasn't sure how in the world to buy him a Secret Santa gift that she thought was worthy of him without giving away the fact that she'd long-since been daydreaming about what it would be like to spend Christmas morning in a warm little home with the handsome bear of a man that could make her feel—even after her abusive ex-husband—that there were good men in the world and happy relationships to be had.

Something trivial like a tie was not enough, but herself wearing nothing except a ribbon and a tag? Well, that was way too much for the office Christmas party, and Tyreese would probably be horrified to know the truth about her feelings for him.

111

Tyreese loved Christmas shopping. He loved walking the aisles at the stores, taking in the sights, and selecting that one perfect gift for someone. He loved the feeling of taking it home, knowing it was just the right choice, and wrapping it with the person in mind. He loved watching someone open something that was really, truly perfect for them.

But today, he was miserable with his shopping and he was carrying around a weight in his gut that made him feel like he'd swallowed a ball of lead.

What do you give a woman for Christmas that you'd like to offer something along the lines of a diamond ring?

Tyreese had worked with Carol, now, for several years. She was pretty, and funny, and sweet. She brought treats to work that she said were "thanks" for everything he did, and she'd packed him a lunch a few times as a "thank you" for something that, usually, was nothing more than a basic workplace kindness. Still, Carol seemed to see every kindness as something monumental.

And her food was phenomenal. Tyreese loved to eat, and he made no apologies for that, but there was just something special about everything that Carol had ever brought him. Maybe, though, he let the food be seasoned by his attraction to the chef, and that added a certain flavor that he couldn't find elsewhere.

Carol was sweet, and a little bit shy, and she'd probably freak out if she knew that Tyreese had imagined, more than once, the pleasure of sharing pancakes in bed with her after other such pleasures. Food, after all, wasn't the only thing he liked to eat—and it seemed to him that Carol could use some spoiling from a man who wanted to worship her body instead of mistreat it.

She wasn't secretive about her abusive ex-husband, and she'd told Tyreese about him a few times when they'd chatted over snacks or a lunch. The man sounded horrible, and Tyreese was brokenhearted that such a good woman had been forced to live with such a devil. Still, what amazed him more than anything was how strong Carol was. Even when she talked about Ed—her ex-husband—she didn't do it in a way that suggested she expected or even wanted pity. She told the stories of his abuse and cruelty with the same nonchalant manner that she might use to tell Tyreese how she'd spent her weekend or what had happened on a show he'd missed the night before.

Tyreese wanted to love her—in more ways than one—until she couldn't possibly hold any bad memory of the man who had hurt. Not in her mind or in her heart.

He could hardly wrap that feeling up, though, and put it in a box—and he feared scaring her more than anything. He'd rather have her as his friend for the rest of his life than lose her over pressing too hard for something she wasn't able or ready to give.

111

"Did you bring Sophia with you?" Tyreese asked. He didn't try to hide his smile as he found Carol among the crowd at the conference room in the local hotel where they held the Christmas party each year. She was beautiful. Whereas everyone else had gone a little overboard with dressing up like the office party was some kind of semi-formal event, Carol had come dressed comfortably in a pair of dark jeans that fit her perfectly enough that just seeing them nearly made Tyreese's pants feel uncomfortably tight, and a dark green sweater that hung just slightly off of one of her thin shoulders.

Sophia was Carol's young daughter. The little girl was Carol's pride and joy, and she hadn't deserved to have the father that she had—the father that had lost his rights to her thanks to the court ruling him as too great a threat for mother and child after he'd lost his temper publicly at the thought of losing access to the little girl.

Carol hugged Tyreese as he approached, and Tyreese savored the moment of holding her in his arms. He thought he felt a tremor run through her body, but he decided it must be a shiver—maybe there was a draft in the room that he couldn't feel. She was much more cold-natured than he was, and his nerves had him feeling especially warm in his sweater.

"We're so festive!" Carol declared happily, gesturing toward her green sweater and his red one. "We're practically our own little Christmas party!"

Tyreese had to bite his tongue to keep from saying that he wished they were somewhere private, right now, having their own little Christmas party.

He smiled at her instead.

"I'm lucky that I get the full holiday experience," he said, "spending my evening with a real, live Christmas Carol."

She laughed in response to the teasing, and her cheeks ran red. Tyreese felt his own face grow warm, but it only matched the rising heat in the rest of his body.

"Sophia is staying with a friend of mine," Carol said. "She's babysitting for the evening."

"You could have brought her," Tyreese said. "They said families welcome."

"I didn't want her to bother anyone," Carol said. She was one of those mothers that believed her child's presence was always problematic to everyone around her. Tyreese assumed, though, that a great deal of those feelings must come from the fact that Ed had always treated the girl like a burden instead of a treasure.

Tyreese knew that if he ever had the chance to be a father—especially with a wife as simply wonderful as Carol—he would never feel that any of his children were anything less than an absolute blessing.

"I'm sure she wouldn't bother anyone," Tyreese said. "She couldn't."

His mouth was dry. Those words nearly stuck in his throat, as simple as they were. The tremor he felt in his own core ran to his hands, and it had nothing to do with being cold. He couldn't wait any longer, and he chose to say as much.

"I don't want to wait until later," he said, offering the neatly wrapped box in Carol's direction. "Surprise—I'm your Secret Santa."

Carol's face reddened. Her mouth formed an "O" in response to the revelation. She offered a box in Tyreese's direction.

"That's—crazy," she said. "I'm—your Secret Santa."

For no apparent reason, the thought gave him butterflies in his stomach, and Tyreese laughed to try to calm the fluttering feelings.

"Serendipity," he said. "Please—open mine first."

Carol nodded and tore the paper off. She opened the top of the box and looked into it, a little confusion settled on her features along with a smile of thanks that she'd prepared for when she fully comprehended everything she saw.

"This is wonderful. Movie tickets and…a…is that a take-out menu? Oh—I love that! It's so thoughtful, but…too much."

Tyreese reached up and caught her arm. It was clear that she didn't fully understand, but it didn't matter. Carol was the kind that was going to be overly grateful for anything she was given. As always, any perceived kindness would be treated as something monumental. But Tyreese needed her to understand this gift.

"Hear me out," he said. "There are three tickets there. There's a kids' Christmas movie playing. I thought—Sophia might like to go and see it. The menu was just to have something to put into the box. I'd like to take you out. I'd like to take you both out. To dinner and a movie." Carol opened her mouth like she might speak, and Tyreese interrupted her before she could. "I know you're probably going to say that you're not interested, but please just hear me out. Dinner and a movie are all I'm asking for right now. Me, you, and Sophia. If there's something more, after that, I'll be thankful for it. But if there isn't, at least we had a good night and Sophia got to see a Christmas movie on the big screen."

Carol smiled sincerely.

"Ty," she said—the nickname was one she'd given him. Nobody else called him Ty. Still, he loved the way it sounded when she did. "There's very little that I'd love to do more than go to a movie and dinner with you. And Sophia will be thrilled—if you're sure she won't bother you."

"I love kids," Tyreese said. "I've always wanted a big family. Huge." Carol's cheeks reddened again. "There's plenty of time for that, though…" Tyreese stammered, hoping he hadn't scared her away.

"I always wanted a big family," she said. "I just—didn't want it so much after Sophia was born. But that was because of Ed. I didn't want more children with Ed. But…"

Tyreese nodded. His heart was pounding in his chest.

"I bought those tickets for Friday," he said.

"Sounds perfect," Carol said. "I'm afraid my gift isn't that special."

"I'll love anything from you," Tyreese said, not caring at all that they were in an office party and that anyone, not currently really paying them any attention, could overhear or oversee anything that was taking place. Nothing mattered, at that moment, nearly as much as the absolutely high feeling of knowing that she'd so simply, and without hesitation or significant reservation, said yes.

Tyreese opened up the package and found that the box was full of assorted fudge. He looked at Carol and she laughed.

"I feel so silly now," she said. "I couldn't figure out what to get you that would be—enough, but not too much that you'd…that you'd know this is what I really wanted." She gestured with the box he'd given her, and the butterflies that had been fluttering wildly in his stomach kicked up and took flight again. She wasn't just accepting—she liked him, too. "You seemed to love my fudge," Carol said, shrugging her shoulders.

Tyreese smiled at her.

"It's sweet," he said. "Just like you. I'll love every bit of it." He'd accepted that the red tint to her cheeks wasn't likely to fade any time soon.

"Maybe—one day you can tell me something special you'd like, and I can cook for you," Carol said.

Tyreese's mind raced wildly and he weighed his options. He decided to take a chance, afraid that passing up such an opportunity might lead to regret if it never came around again.

"What about Saturday?" He asked. "I've always been curious about—what you could do with pancakes."

"Sophia…" Carol said.

"I have a guest room," Tyreese said with a shrug. "And she might love a Christmas sleepover. I've been told Uncle Ty's house is a great place to visit." He swallowed against his nerves. "And if it's too fast, or too much, there's a queen bed in the guest room that sleeps two."

Carol smiled at him and tipped her head to the side.

"You're brave," she said. The statement was sincere. There was more awe than challenge.

"I'm just praying for a Christmas miracle," Tyreese admitted.

Carol nodded and looked around before she let her eyes settle back on him.

"I have a sitter until eleven," Carol said. "And I've never really liked office parties…"

"You're brave, too," Tyreese commented.

Carol smiled at him.

"Maybe I'm just hoping that Christmas miracles are real," she said.

"Then—let's get out of here," Tyreese said, "and see if we can't find one."