AN: Getting back on schedule, thankfully! I'm hoping to get a new tablet/PC soon so I can write anywhere! If that happens then I might move to daily updates! *gasp* something new for me! Anyway, enough of my rambling! Hope everyone enjoyed the holidays and enjoys this fun little chapter!
One more note: Special thanks to the Guest review that was so sweet I couldn't stop smiling for a while! And thank you heartherrk, Sillymommy2010, suzisnowflake, Shan, Trixieviv, KemleS, and Jaimek45 for leaving me love! (Personally, I love the AN shout outs so I'll work on adding those to each chapter!)
Chapter 5
Michonne and Beth followed closely behind him as he drove the narrow country roads to his small home. He had never brought anyone back to his place before and if he were being honest, he wasn't very comfortable with it. He knew he had no other choice though. He could protect her if Zach somehow managed to find his way to his place and there was no one around to get caught in the crossfire. Not that he thought it would come to that but one could never be too careful.
He stopped his truck on the gravel road next to the house and stepped out to welcome his guests. As they exited the sedan he could see their apprising eyes scrutinizing his home. He scoffed and kicked at a few rocks beneath his feet.
"Ain't much." He saw Michonne smirk in the darkness.
"It's so quiet here." Beth voice was awe struck. "It was never this quiet on the farm." At first glance she looked like she was better but her eyes told another story. She was exhausted.
"Nothin' around for a few miles. Come on, inside." His eyes were looking around the house and his ears on alert for any noises that might be out of place. He turned and opened the door, the women noted that he didn't unlock it; he didn't have to, and he held the it open for them. "Light switch is on your left." Beth reached out and flicked the switch and light flooded the simple room.
He walked in past them and could see Beth's eyes scanning what she could, which wasn't much. To the right was a small living room with a couch and a poorly constructed second hand coffee table and nothing more. To the left was a kitchen with no refrigerator, an old stove, and a sink. There was no other furniture to be seen and no pictures on the paint chipped wall. To say she looked unimpressed was an understatement but she didn't say a word. He could see Michonne's bored gaze as she moved to the short hallway to flip on the light.
"Bathroom is down there" He pointed behind him. "Bedroom is in there. Clean sheets are in the closet." This time in front of himself to the open door. "I'm takin' the couch." Michonne didn't need further instruction as she went into the bedroom and began quickly stripping the bed. He shook his head at how quickly she was willing to manhandle his things but reminded himself the he invited them here for her. He moved back into the living room, which took about four steps before his was in front of the couch, and sat down with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He heard her footfalls as she came closer and sat next to him.
"Thank you." He felt her hand wrap around his forearm and pull it away from his head. He looked over at her, his scraggly hair dropping in front of his eyes as he did so. "I know you didn't have to do this but I appreciate it." She smiled weakly.
"My job now." She released his arm and her smile fell.
"Right. Your job." She looked away and nodded once. He could see her shoulders sag momentarily and correct almost instantly. Her smile was back on her face before he could even blink but her bright blue eyes seemed pale and he instantly regretted his words. "Goodnight, Daryl. Thank you again." She was up and in the bedroom before he could compose his thoughts. He stood to follow but his door closed and he was alone in the living room. He sighed and sat back down with his head resting up on the back of the couch and his arm over his forehead.
His mind wandered over the events of the night. The tattoo on her hip, the feel of his skin beneath his fingers, the heat from the fire, and the new arrangement he had found himself in. Why in the hell was he doing this? He would be up most of the night trying to figure that one out.
The next morning, Daryl jolted awake at the sound of footsteps from the bedroom. The night had been quiet and for that he was grateful. He pulled himself into a seated position and rotated his stiff shoulder as Michonne emerged from the bedroom. She simply nodded to him and walked over to look out the window. Daryl did not acknowledge her. He was not one for pleasantries and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask her how she slept last night.
"Beth is still asleep. Probably will be for another half hour or so. She's like a clock, that one. We need to talk about getting back to Georgia before she wakes." Daryl rubbed his face and sighed. He was relieved that Michonne seemed to be all business but at the same time he was still pondering the unanswered question from the previous night.
"Once this guy is caught I'm back here. Ain't hangin' around more than I need to." Michonne glanced over her shoulder and smirked at him.
"Not like you have a whole lot to come back to." Daryl's expression hardened and she continued. "What are you planning to do? Help rebuild the bar?"
"Work is work." The words were forced and bitter.
"Then it shouldn't matter what you are doing as long as you bring in a pay check."
"Why's it matter to you?" She smirked again and looked back out of the window.
"It doesn't." Daryl stood up and headed down the small hallway to the bathroom. As he retreated he heard Michonne add the final nail to his coffin. "It does to her." He closed the door behind him quietly and placed his palms down on the cool ceramic of the small bathroom sink. His shoulders where hunched as he looked down at the drain. He was pissed now. He wanted to hit something, he wanted to kill that Zach kid, he wanted to scream at Dave for bringing this tornado into his life but he couldn't. After a lifetime of watching a man mistreat a woman and then the women that followed his mother, his fault was that he was fiercely protective of the fairer sex. He did so without thinking and now he was in one hell of a mess he couldn't back out of.
He quickly relieved himself and threw water on his face and went back out to the living room to get the details of this job out of the way. He found Michonne snooping around the cabinets when he returned, his annoyance only growing at the sight.
"No coffee in this place?"
"Nearest gas station is fifteen miles to the west. Get yer coffee there." He walked over to the cabinet she was standing in front of and pulled out a water stained glass and filled it in the tap. Michonne rolled her eyes and moved into the living room and took a seat on the couch. She was waiting for him to join her before she spoke. The glass was emptied and placed on the counter before he turned to move to the wall opposite from her.
"We'll stop for coffee on the way out of town. Can that truck of yours make it to Georgia?"
"Probably not. But I have a bike in the back that can." He honestly didn't mind the idea of riding down the interstate on the back of his brother's bike. It gave him a chance to really think. The roar of motorcycle was to him like a singing to a baby. It was peaceful and calming.
"Not going to be the best mode of transportation when we get there." She commented. "Have to get Rick to get you a car there."
"Can't see me needing a car. Be with ya both most of the time, right?" Michonne's expression turned serious.
"The protection detail will require someone to look out for anything suspicious. Anyone tailing, checking on who arrives to the events before she gets there, and watching her while she's entering, preparing, preforming, and leaving the venue. Usually I would get there before her and then Glenn would bring her in. Since Zach has escalated we need one of us with her and one of us keeping a look out in advance and that may switch up depending on the venue. You and I will only work together at the events. Before and after we'll need to work out with Rick." Daryl nodded in understanding. Beth on the back of his bike would not be appropriate. Not to mention having her arms wrapped around him, her front pressed against his back or anything else for that matter. He pushed the thoughts from his mind quickly.
"Rick the boss?"
"He's a retired sheriff turned personal protection consultant. He was shot and injured due to a slip up on his partners end and forced into retirement after a month in a coma. His hand eye coordination is a bit unstable but he still thinks like a cop."
"Knew a cop named Rick back in Georgia." Daryl mused. "Where we headed?"
"He's working in Atlanta now but he was working a small town outside of Senoia. Beth lives in Atlanta now so that is where we're going. I'll drop you off with him and get everything going and take her home. I'll pick you up after Rick is done with you." Daryl groaned. "What?"
"Outside of Senoia?" Michonne nodded with a confused look. "Gunna to be workin' for the man that arrested my brother two years ago." Michonne's face broken into an uncharacteristic smile and she laughed loudly at the predicament that he was in.
"Then I guess we won't have to waste too much time on introductions." He started to say something in response when he heard another set of footsteps in the house. Beth was awake and heading into the living room.
She only glanced at him quickly and sat down next to Michonne. She pulled her hair down from the obscenely messy ponytail to straighten it out and put it back up.
"What's the plan?" She wasted no time, Daryl noticed.
"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Michonne muttered. Beth dropped her hands from her hair and gave her a playful shove on her shoulder. Daryl felt his comfort level drop dramatically at her presence. "As soon as everyone is ready we're hitting the road to Georgia." She explained simply. Beth nodded and stood up with a hiss. Michonne was up next to her in a flash which caused Beth to smile warmly.
"It's ok," Her hand went to her hip where the tattoo was. "I just forgot to take the tape off last night and it's just pulling." Daryl cursed himself for not remembering to have her check it. It was probably dry as hell and very, very sore. He pushed himself off the wall.
"Come here." He walked into the bathroom and heard Beth following him. She leaned up against the sink as he dug through the small basket on the back of the toilet for the tube of Aquafor. When he found it he turned to her. "Let me look at it an' then put this on." She caught the tube as he tossed it to her. He reached over and gently raised her shirt and pulled back at her sweat pants she had slept in. As he pulled off the tape and his fingers touched her flesh again his mind once again screamed at him to get away from her, run out of the house, and never look back. But the professional in him won, or so he chose to believe.
The area around that tattoo was a bright red, much darker than it should have been, and the inked skin was very dry with some scabbing appearing much too soon for his liking.
"Does it look ok?" His eyes moved up to her and he noticed the flush in her cheeks. His heart rate picked up exponentially.
"Dry." His voice cracked. With a mental curse he cleared his throat, looked back down at his work, and tried again. "S' dry and starting to scab over. Shouldn't be doing that for another day or so." He reached up and took the lotion from her hand. "I'll do it. Hold the shirt up a bit." She complied with his request and he put a generous amount of lotion on the tip of his first two fingers. It was then that he realized what he was doing, exactly. Heat rose in his face and he was glad that she couldn't see his embarrassment. He used to do this to attractive women all the time. Why should this be any different?
After a brief pause he put his fingers to the marked flesh and did his best to rub the lotion with minimal contact with her skin. That was easy until the lotion began to spread and it became necessary that the pads of his fingers brush the sensitive area delicately. He noticed her stomach shift in as she took in a deep breath and held it at his touch. He didn't want to draw attention to it but he couldn't stop himself. "Hurt?" He chanced a glance up at her. Her eyes were closed but she didn't look like she was in pain.
"Not bad." Her voice was soft but hid subtle hints that any man, even deaf and blind, could pick up on. He did his best to pretend not to notice and dropped her shirt and let go of her sweats gently so as not to snap against her irritated flesh. She opened her eyes and looked at him as he backed up to the door and averted his gaze.
"Should get ready to go." He didn't look back at her as he went into his room and tossed a few shirts, boxers, and socks into a bag and tossed it by his door. He didn't own much so it wouldn't take a lot to pack and hit the road. Hell, he could even carry his belongings on his back on the bike without much effort at all. He could hear Beth telling MIchonne that she needed to stop at the store for lotion on their way out and Michonne telling her about the drive and their stop at Rick's office. He wasn't looking forward to any of this. But now that he was here, now that she was here, what choice did he have?
AN: Just a little bit of tension as Daryl still beats himself up. Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you thought, please!