We eventually got up and took a shower together. Daryl washed my hair with more detail than any salon ever had, and I returned the favor. We took our time, but it wasn't frantic like our earlier moments. We had spoken to one another about what we wanted, and knowing the other was just as determined to see it through, we could slow down.

His lips met mine repeatedly as we washed one another. And I answered each sweet kiss with one of my own. He stepped out of the shower first, opening a dry towel for me to step into. I smiled at his care, and let him wrap me up. His kiss on my forehead was as tender as the ones we'd shared in the shower. Drying off, we pulled on our clothes, his sweatsuit and a new pair of pajamas for me.

We sighed, knowing that we'd much rather run naked and hot, but we had plans to make. Clothes were necessary to keep us on task. I'd even thrown on a bra, just so I wouldn't be distracting to him. Sitting at the table, I wondered if we should order our dinner to be sent up or should we venture down to get our own. Daryl answered that for me by walking to the fridge and grabbing snacks, two more bottles of water, and bringing the fruit basket to the table. We'd barely sat when a knock came to the door.

"I swear to Christ, if that's Negan again," I muttered, walking to the door and opening with a jerk. It wasn't, it was the basket of laundry I'd sent out the night before. The wife who brought it was trying to see around me, clearly curious as to what Daryl and I were up to, I blocked her easily and took the basket from her.

"Thank you, Sherry." I said, with a smile that must have looked genuine because she looked almost taken aback. I was rarely friendly with the wives or Saviors. I put up with them, I was civil at most. "I have another load if you don't mind?" She nodded her assent and I felt Daryl behind me with the basket. Little shit. He handed the basket to her and took the one I had in my hands away. Ah, servant, that's right.

"No rush on that load," I said, closing the door to shut off any attempt at conversation. I looked over at the pleased as punch man sitting facing the door. I smiled at him as he smirked back. "

"Just playin' my part, darlin'." He winked at me and I laughed. Rushing back to the table and giving him a long kiss. "What was that for?" He asked, when I pulled away.

I smiled down at him, and pushed his far too long bangs out of his face. "Because I adore you, Daryl Dixon." I took the chair beside him and grabbed some fruit while we planned.

"I don't like it." Daryl said, for what seemed like the five hundredth time.

I rolled my eyes. He didn't like it, but I knew it would work. "Do you not agree with it because it will take some time, or because I'll have to let him be close to me for it to work?" I wanted to know, because one could be worked around, possibly, but the other was imperative.

He was glaring at me and for a moment I flashed back to the previous night. He'd had that same look when I saw him for the first time. I hated it, but I needed to understand. "Both. Mostly stayin' here." He chewed his lip and groaned. "No, fuck that, mostly the thought of that bastard touchin' you again."

I sighed. "I never said I'd give in to his touch, Daryl." He took his clenched fist and kissed the knuckles. "All I said was that I needed to get him alone. You do know that Negan and I don't just have a physical relationship?"

His glare softened a bit when my lips touched his skin, but it was nowhere near gone. "And if he don't listen? If he wants ya, how are ya gonna stop him?"

My turn to glare. "He won't rape me, Daryl." I fought down the anger. "He's NEVER shown me any violence. And yes, I have turned him down plenty of times." For fuck's sake, just because his followers would do anything for the man didn't mean I would.

"Jessa," he said, clearly struggling to not scream out. "You've never had another man in your life. Not while ya were with him." He was trying to explain his reasoning, but I was having difficulty accepting the foreign picture he was trying to paint. "You turn his ass down now and he's gonna know. If ya give in to him, I'm gonna wanna kill his ass more than I already do. That's the truth of it, if you'd stop bein' so damn stubborn and see it."

I sighed again. Throwing back my head in frustration. Shit this was hard. "I"ll claim I'm having my monthly, then." Hell, if we do it my way, I'll be having my period. "I won't let him, Daryl. He might have to kiss me, that's as far as I'll allow it." His glare deepened and he looked at my lips in anger. "For fuck's sake, haven't you had a girlfriend who had to kiss another guy under the fucking mistletoe? It's not the end of the world."

"No." He answered, and I wasn't sure what question he answered. "I ain't had no girlfriend kiss another guy under mistletoe, cause there's been no other girlfriends."

"Oh." I said, shocked. Damn it was every female not of his own blood that had ever met him fucking stupid? "None?"

He was gnawing so hard on his lip that I was frightened he'd bite through it. He was still glaring and I was still in shock. "None." One word and it meant everything. Shit.

"And me?" I asked, wondering if that's really where it all was coming from. I was amazed, but still shook.

Daryl looked straight into my eyes and whispered. "You're it, the only one." He answered, and then it clicked. Daryl was a puzzle. He was a puzzle that I'd spend the rest of my life learning.

"Don't you want to play the field a little first?" I asked, thinking he deserved to be sure, even if it would break my heart.

His eyes were holding mine hostage, and I was sure that would never change for us. His focus on me, mine locked on his. "No." He said, simple and clear.

I stood up and walked to him, he pushed his chair back, like before. This time I sat on it, not sexually, just wanting to hold and be held. His arms wrapped around me like I was certain they always would. "You are one very amazing man, Daryl Dixon."

He scoffed. "Nah, just never found anyone like ya." He kissed my temple and I smiled. "Musta been waitin' for ya my whole life. Cause I ain't felt nothin' like this before." I turned to him and kissed him fully on the mouth. Again, not trying to get anything started, but letting him know that I loved him.

I had to break the seriousness, and I wanted confirmation. "Clearly not a virgin though." His laughter vibrated over me.

"Nah, done that before." He was still heaving a bit with laughter. "Had to hone my craft." I giggled. "Wanted to be sure when I found ya, I'd not be disappointin'."

"Not a chance," I answered, smiling into his neck. "I love you, and it scares me senseless."

He pulled me up to look into my eyes. "Why are ya scared?" He looked confused.

I gave him a smile, sad probably, but he'd asked and he should know the truth. "My mom told me when I was little that my daddy died defending our country for us. Me and her, I mean." I thought back to how angry my mother had always been when I was little. "She wasn't happy that she was stuck with me alone, I guessed at the time, because she wasn't nice to me." Understatement of the decade, the woman had provided the necessities, but not love, not even a little affection. "I got more attention at school, where I did well and the teachers could just tell something was wrong, you know?" He nodded. "When she got sick, I was in junior high. I'd had minimal contact with my grandparents, her parents, because she said they were bad people. But when she got cancer, she had to let them in. My grandparents were amazing, they showered me with love. I couldn't understand, and then when she knew she was dying, it was the end. She finally told me the truth."

Like he'd been doing since we'd started getting to know one another, Daryl seemed to sense what I was saying was difficult for me. His arms tightened around me. "My father was in the military, but when she found out she was pregnant with me, he ditched her. She was in love with him. He'd been stationed for training when she'd found out about me and she waited until he had leave to come home to tell him. It was too late to end her pregnancy when she found out he didn't want kids." I felt the tears come when I relived finding out that my mother truly never wanted me. "She had me, but her parents told her that she had to raise me. They refused to have their grandchild farmed out to an orphanage, and they felt that she needed me. She told me that she'd always wished late term abortions were a thing, because she'd have jumped on it." I sniffled, but kept going. "She kept my grandparents away for the same reason she didn't show me a speck of affection. She hated the three of us. Me, for ruining her chances with the man she loved. Them, for making her keep me." I felt him brush away my tears, but I had to go on. He had to know. "My grandparents felt such guilt, Daryl. They heard her telling me and thought I would hate them, but I couldn't. I couldn't show them affection though, how could I? I didn't know HOW. They lived in the town that Negan taught high school, and when she died I went to live with them." I remembered the house, so big and welcoming. My grandma trying desperately to include me in their lives. My grandpa trying to show me the love he realized I'd been denied.

"My grandma died before I left high school. Heart attack. I don't think she ever knew how much she meant to me." I remembered trying to show her, without words how much I cared. "My grandpa died right before all this happened. It's how I got acquainted with Negan, again. His wife and my grandpa were in the same hospital. We met in the cafeteria one day and one conversation turned into another, until it finally happened." I swiped at my own tears now. "I felt like such a horrible person. She was DYING and I was sleeping with her husband. God, what a bitch I must have been. My grandpa died before she did. And I don't know if I ever showed him how much I cared about him either." I looked at him and saw him looking at me with pity. "Don't pity me, Daryl. My decision was based on logic. If I came from love, and it turned to shit, then why the HELL would I want to give it a try. Sex, some type of caring, that was fine. But love? I only felt it when I was a teenager, what the hell was I supposed to do with that type of late blooming bullshit?"

"My dad beat all of us." His voice was hushed. "Those scars you felt on my back? Him." His eyes were tight with the pain of memory. "My brother, Merle, he was older so he got out. Left, joined the army. My mom burned to death, in her bed. That left me." I was starting to see we weren't so different. His scars were outside and mine were internal, but birds of a feather. "I hate to take my shirt off around people. I hate seeing 'em look at me like they can't see nothin' but them." I nodded, made sense. "I took it off for ya." His gaze held mine. "I let ya touch 'em." I nodded again. "You ain't everyone else to me, Jessa. I love ya, and I trust ya. And scares the shit out of me too, but I'm willin' if ya are."