Thanks again to those that are reviewing! Please take the time to- I take any feedback very seriously and love reading your input!

I should clarify for Sadelia- it is a real place, in Colorado, between Denver and Colorado Springs. However, there is no mention of it in the comic books or TV shows.

On that note, onwards and upwards!

Carol looked up from the stove as Carl entered the kitchen groggily, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely.

"Morning," he mumbled to her, crossing to the dining table and promptly dropping his head to his crossed arms melodramatically. Carol rolled her eyes at his antics. Even though Carl had to grow up a lot in such a short amount of time, he still has his childish flair sometimes.

"How did you sleep?" she asked, knowing he wanted her to.

"Terrible. I had to share a room with Abraham, Sasha and my dad, and they ALL snore," he moaned.

"Why didn't you sleep in your normal room?" she asked, stirring the pot of boiling water in front of her. A collection of dirty knives swirled around in the large container; they seriously needed to be sanitized.

"I was going to, but Star and Daryl are in there," Carl informed her. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, but she was careful not to let it show in a way that Carl would notice.

"Oh really?" she said evenly.

"It's disgusting," Carl responded, making Carol smile to herself. She had seen Carl's eyes stray to Enid on several occasions, but decided not to push the matter with the young boy. "They're sleeping on the same mattress and…blegh."

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"Angel…" Daryl heard a soft voice calling. He could feel cool, smooth skin sliding over his chest, tender breaths on his neck. The sweet scent of lavender filled his nose as he buried his face in silky, long hair. A giggle echoed in his ear, and long fingers played with his collar bone.

He had died, he decided. A walker had gotten to him, Rick had put him down, and someone accidently let him into heaven. Soon they would realize their mistake, and this creature would stop its ministrations.

"Daryl," it whispered, fingers dancing across his chest and weaving their way across his face. The way they traced patterns across his skin reminded him of the flitting, dancing way Star ran across the broken highway.

He tightened his grip around the entity next to him, feeling a thin, strong waistline and rippling core under his grip. He groaned out loud at the sensation and cracked his eyes open to take in the accompanying view.

Star's two-toned hair was shining in the morning light, her face inches away from his own. Her eyes were laughing at his waking routine, her fingers still etching invisible trails over the plains of his skin. Her shirt had ridden up in the night, exposing the abdomen that could only belong to an athlete.

Her index finger ran across the valley of his nose and the bridge of his forehead, trying to commit every movement to memory.

"What're ya doin?" he murmured.

"Memorizing your face," she confessed, barely whispering but her voice low.

"Why?"

"So no matter what happens, I can always see it," she told him. He blushed in response to her statement. He had never seen his face as comforting, or even his overall presence. But Star found everything about him affirming.

He brought his own hand up to rest against her cheek, and she happily leaned into his palm. The golden sparks in her eyes were luminous, her skin as cool as the morning air. He had a sudden urge to leave the dangers of Alexandria, to take her somewhere where they could spend their entire lives doing this, instead of wondering when their home would be destroyed.

"What's Sadelia like?" he asked her, catching her off guard. "Have ya even been there?"

She nodded, sitting up and crossing her long legs under her, dragging her hand down to his bicep and studying it intently. "I have. I went there a few times with some college friends, to float Bear and Plum Creek during the summers. It's along the front of the western slope of the Rockies, and it's just lush, green meadows and pine forests. Part of the town goes back into the mountain range. But there were always deer herds, and tall grasses in the summer. A lot of folks there had livestock or small farms."

It sounded like a paradise to him. He could hunt in the mountains and meadows, and they could travel between the major cities to scavenge for other supplies. He looked up at her and noticed the distant look in her eyes, tinted by a note of sadness.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked. Her eyes pulled into focus, and she gave him a smile.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm just remembering Colorado. I think you really would have liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The mountains are just, so beautiful, Daryl. And they go on forever. It really changes your perspective on your own life. I lived there for almost six years, and every time I drove towards or along the mountains, they took my breath away. People were so nice there, too."

"Everywhere would be nice t' girl like ya," he commented, flirting in his own way. She caught on and pecked him on the cheek.

"Very smooth," she admitted. "But Colorado was special. People held doors open for each other. They came out to art festivals to celebrate and support each other's talents. Sharing was normal there, and not just excess, but everything you could. People made friends just walking around Downtown. They wanted to know who cooked their food and say thank you in person. It was…"

He started to see where the fire and friendliness in her came from. If her descriptions of her family held any truth, she inherited it from them. But the places she lived nurtured and continued those traits. It sounded like Colorado had surrounded her with the same values.

"…it was perfect for ya." he finished for her.

She nodded. "I hope it's still somewhat intact. I mean, I know it's unrealistic to think that it would survive when all the other major cities have fallen."

Daryl merely shrugged in response. He didn't want to crush her hopes, but it was highly unlikely.

"What was it like, living here?" she asked. "Would you miss it?"

He paused. He had never imagined leaving the South; it had never dawned on him that he had a reason to.

"Dunno, just like every other place," he deflected. "Don't matter much where I am." Inside, he was a little bitter. She had had a loving family, and apparently an incredible town to thrive in. She had grace and beauty and intelligence and an education. Everything he never had, and never thought he should. He had nothing in his life that he could compare that to. The South had never felt like a home, at least not the type of home she described. His family had never been a unified unit with its own, unique energy. Merle had been the closest thing to love he had in his life, and the more he heard her describe the love in her life, the more he realized how far from love Merle had been.

Suddenly, he lifted himself out of bed and gathered his clothes in his hand in one swift movement. Before she could even be startled, he was out the bedroom door and pulling the bathroom door shut behind him.

Star stared, bewildered, at the wake of his bolting. She racked her brain, trying to pinpoint what had set him off, but came up with no answers. She heard the shower turn on, and hemmed and hawed over whether or not to leave, or to pursue the issue.

She had made up her mind to simply go on a run and let him settle down, and pulled off her pajamas and stretched on a sports bra, t-shirt, and shorts she had brought with her. She slipped into some ankle-high socks and was padding past the occupied bathroom when a surge of stubbornness gripped her. Without knocking, she burst through the bathroom door, entered the steaming room, and firmly shut it behind her.

"What the hell?!" Daryl called out from the shower. "Carl, for the last goddamn time, keep yer shoes by th' door!"

"It's me!" Star snapped back. She strode over to the curtain and, before she could be overcome by nerves, yanked the curtain aside to reveal a very wet, very naked, very surprised Daryl.

"What the fuck Star!" he yelled, but she spoke over him.

"I don't think it's fair that you get to just storm out of a conversation when you don't like what's being said, especially when it only makes sense in your head!" she plowed through his protests. "If you want a family, and friends, you have to communicate with them, instead of just leaving whenever you damn well feel like it! Being vulnerable and getting hurt are two parts of loving people! And they can be parts of an awesome process, but you have to actually stick around to see it through!"

She never once broke eye contact with him, even as her arms and hands gestured wildly around her. He continued to stare at her in bafflement, at first trying to cover himself but losing focus when her words reached him. His mouth dropped open and then he snapped it closed. She stood there in front of him, chest heaving with adrenaline and anger, eyes boring through him.

"Well?!" she said, exasperated.

"Well wha?" he shot back.

"Well!...responding is part of that process!" she elaborated sarcastically.

"I…uh…" he stuttered. She dropped her head into her open palm, frustrated.

"I'm sorry!" Daryl said defensively. "This ain't the best time ta be havin' a talk, don't ya think?! Ya can't just barge in on a man takin' a shower and yell at 'im! It ain't fair!"

Star's eyes grew large and she rolled them. "Ok, fine!" she hollered, and began pulling her sports bra over her head.

"What are ya doin?!" Daryl panicked.

"I'm making it fair!" Star shot back as she hopped on one foot, trying to pull her socks and the last leg of her shorts off at the same time. Daryl cast his eyes down at the tile floor as her socks, bra, panties and shorts were inelegantly discarded onto the floor. She stepped into the shower, bare and beautiful, and he had nowhere to look that was safe. He tried to drag his gaze up to her defiant face as quickly as possible, but got enough of a glimpse to make his blood flood from his extremities. Tan skin, small, white breasts and curved thighs, lean and chiseled calves and abs, and hair sticking to her sides and back. He met her eyes, trying to mask his arousal with pertinence.

"There, now we are fair," she insisted.

Daryl disagreed. This wasn't fair at all. Water droplets were turning into streams down her breasts and stomach and sides and it was almost impossible to keep himself from leaning over and lapping them off of her skin. Her hair was growing darker as the water stained it, and droplets of steam clung to her eyelashes. Her eyes bore into him with almost laser-like intensity and focus, and it was setting every one of his nerves on fire.

She noted his tense posture and thought that this was finally it. She had pushed him too far, and now he was going to snap and shut her out forever. Star had finally overstepped his boundaries, and it was going to cost her.

But he didn't holler at her to get out. He didn't exit the shower in a huff. He wasn't trying to force her out, either. Instead, he was standing rigidly still, with only his chest rising and falling with each breath, seemingly caught in indecision.

Exasperated, she took a step into him, challenging him. "Do something, Daryl."

She barely got his name out before he grabbed her face with both of his hands and smashed his lips into her with such force that she stumbled backward into the spray. Her back hit the cold blue tiles but the shock barely registered as his tongue pried her lips apart. Her hands snaked up his bare back and intertwined along the back of his neck, pulling him even deeper into him.

She tasted like mint and lavender and fire, and felt like a summer evening breeze, he thought. His hands were being held awkwardly at his sides, not knowing where they were supposed to go. Her fingers unlatched and dragged their way down his spine, back up to his shoulders, and down his arms to his hands. Without breaking the passionate kiss, she guided his hands to her hips and rested hers on his. His nails dug into the skin taught across her hips, trying to fight the urge to pull her pelvis flush with his.

Star, however, lacked the same restraint. She pulled him into her as she pushed her own back against the tiles, trying to encourage him without words.

Daryl tugged his lips from hers and hazily opened his eyes to take in the sight of her. Her feet were several shades lighter than the rest of her, the deep tan starting at her ankles where her running shoes cut across her legs. Her legs were carved from hard, rippling marble the color of chestnut, her calves sharp and her thighs sloping and thick. A small patch of black hair sat between her legs, and the valleys and hills of her abs started right above the dips across her thighs. They ended below the soft dip of her small breasts, which were the same color as her sun-deprived feet.

She watched his eyes travel the length of her body and suddenly felt self-conscious. She knew she was in great shape, given her physically demanding role in Alexandria, but she really wanted him to love her body. She knew many men would prefer her curvier, with larger breasts. But her body was a machine, a vessel to carry the needs of her community.

She occupied her mind by giving him the same treatment. He was long and lean, too, with definite definition but not a lot of bulk. His skin was covered evenly in sparse hair in various shades of brown. His arms were clearly his most utilized component, with large biceps and toned forearms. She tried not to linger too long on his manhood, but noted that it was currently thick, and standing long and proud. His long hair was now reaching pat his neck in the back, the front, wet strands clinging to his cheekbones.

They met back at each other's eyes, and to relieve the almost unbearable sexual tension, Star joked, "Not bad."

The flirt caught Daryl off guard, and he let out a chuckle. "Not too bad yerself," he admitted, trailing the curve under her breast with a finger and making her heart stop as she fought back a groan. She lunged at him and attacked his lips with hers ferociously, this time being the one to tangle her tongue with his. She floated her hands down his sides and wrapped them around to his ass, squeezing one cheek in each hand. He moaned into her mouth and flipped her around, pressing her up against the dry tiles on the opposite side of the shower. She nipped her way down his neck and lapped up the water droplets along his collar bone, feeling his nails dig into her hips and his erection hardening against her stomach in response. He roughly tangled a hand into her hair and pulled her head back and away from him, only to lower his own lips to her chest and take one of her pink nipples between his teeth.

She let out a yelp of pleasure and then bit her lips together to keep from making any more noise in the quiet of the morning. He, however, enjoyed her noises, and seemed to be determined to make her produce more as he continued his ravishing. Until she surprised him, by sliding her wet body down towards the floor and stopping at his protruding member. She devilishly looked up at him from her position.

"May I?" she asked quietly. Daryl wordlessly nodded, and his eyes slid shut as her warm, soft, tight mouth encased his cock.

His body completely shut out all external senses; all he could feel was her fingers wrapping around the lower half of his extremity as her lips caressed his tip. He let out a particularly loud groan, and felt her giggle around him, causing even more sounds to try to escape his mouth until he partially bit down on his fist, leaning his head against the tiles.

Her hand left its post and gently rested on his thigh, and he cracked his eyes open enough to see her slide her lips all the way down his shaft, engulfing him.

Holy shit, where the fuck did this woman come from? He wondered in amazement as she rotated her tongue around his head and bobbed him in and out of her mouth. She looked up at him and saw him staring, open-mouthed, and winked at him without stopping her rhythm. A noise from deep within his chest fought its way out of him, spurring her to quicken and deepen her movements even further.

"Star, I'm…" he managed to gasp out, and she understood him. She pulled her mouth away with one last, long suck, but continued to carry on with her hands lightly gripped around him. He went tumbling over the edge, the evidence splaying across her chest and long fingers.

He slowly floated back down to Earth, finally opening his eyes to find her rinsing off in the now-lukewarm water. He leaned his head down to the crook of her neck and muttered "Thank ya" before pressing a soft kiss there.

She smiled at him and responded with "You're welcome, Angel."

Daryl wanted to offer her the same gift in return, but she seemed to be happy running the soap over her skin. She looked so happy and peaceful that he felt almost rude asking her if she wanted anything more.

She seemed to read his mind, because she lifted his chin to meet her gaze, saying, "Don't worry, you don't owe me a return." The genuine glow in her eyes conveyed truthfulness; she was happy merely to experience his happiness.

Her expertise, paired with her selfishness, made Daryl feel like he had truly fallen down an unfamiliar path. Sure, he had had crushes in his childhood, and plenty of sexual encounters with other women. But this sleek, positive creature that radiated confidence and comfort was unlike anyone, or anything, that he had ever experienced. The way she was struck him as unparalleled, and the way she made him feel was foreign, yet enticing and calming.

Watching her rinse her long, mismatched hair in the spray and blushing at the way he was looking at her, he couldn't help but identify with her for the first time. I'm afraid to have someone to live for…I'm afraid I've already found it.

He had been merely existing for over thirty years in his normal life, before everything went to hell. He had been only surviving for the first year and a half of fighting and fleeing from the undead. He had found something to strive for when Rick had called him brother.

With Star, and his newfound family, for the first time in his life, he had something he actually wanted a life with; something to live for.

Please let me know what you think about this latest development!