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Chapter 8

Hallie stared at the table for a long time. She laid the cue stick quietly on the pool table and said "I'm done."

"Take tha' shot an' finish tha' game. Ya' won." Daryl said, quietly draining another Mt. Dew.

"I can't." she said, looking at him with a blank stare. The two had been playing pool for three hours now, drinking soda and trying to sober up before leaving the County Line. Truth be told, they were having fun just hanging out. The games had been going back and forth. Daryl was pleasantly surprised to find that Hallie could hold her own against him and that he had to really pay attention or she'd kick his ass, something his upbringing by Merle could not allow him, no matter how hard he tried, to rationalize that she might just be a better pool-player.

"Ya' been makin' harder shots than that all night. Take tha' shot an' finish me off."

"I can't." she insisted, turning her head slightly sideways and widening her eyes. "I can't do it."

"Ya' ain't gonna' hurt ma' feelings if ya' beat me, Woman, take tha' damn shot an' let's get tha' hell outta' here. I'm gettin' hungry."

"Fuck your feelings. I been beatin' you all night. I can't take the damn shot so just shut up. You won. Let's go."

"Why can't ya? Just bend over an' hit the fuckin' cue ball. What tha' hell's wrong wit' ya'?" he moved closer.

"Damn it, I can't." Hallie said emphatically, through tight lips. She walked around Daryl and grabbed his hand, putting something inside his palm and curling his fingers with her own. "My plan to distract you kinda' backfired." she said in a low voice.

Daryl uncurled his fingers slightly and realized instantly that the black wad of silkiness in his hand was Hallie's underwear. She couldn't bend over to take the shot because she was no longer wearing them under her thigh-high denim skirt. Daryl's eyes blinked a couple times as his ears turned red and he flushed uncontrollably. "Fuck me." he whispered, looking up at her. "How long you been without these?"

"About twenty minutes. Took 'em off the last time I went to the bathroom. Thought I might need to cheat. You were on a roll."

"Where tha' hell have I been?" he said, shaking his head, still blushing.

"Keeping your mind on the game, like a gentleman." she smirked. "Sucker." she said, walking past him to their booth and smacking him on the butt.

"Well, next time I'll just have ta' keep my mind up yer' skirt." he grinned and followed her, closely.

"Oh, no, there won't be a next time." she said, sitting down.

"What? We ain't gonna shoot pool 'gain?" he said, looking sideways at her.

"No, I'm never gonna try to cheat again!" she laughed.

XXXXX

Daryl and Hallie arrived at her house about half an hour later, having made out in the parking lot for a while, her underwear returned to it's proper place, much to Daryl's protests.

They walked in hand in hand up the porch steps. Daryl looked around and marveled at the home, having missed much of it on his first night there. It was a two-bedroom bungalow, craftsman style, decorated in primitive antiques with a broad front porch and a couple big oak trees in front. The only think really obviously modern was the big-screen tv in the corner of the living room. Everything else looked like it had been there for a hundred years.

They talked about her job giving her opportunities to pick up nice pieces and how occasionally her boss would show his appreciation for her hard work by surprising her with something special that he knew she'd been looking for. Daryl was relieved to hear that her boss was not competition, but a closeted gay man in a long-term relationship with a partner who's career choice would not allow him to disclose his lifestyle.

They talked about Merle and how he'd pretty much raised Daryl after the death of their mother and in the aftermath of their father's alcoholism and abusive behavior. It was clear to Hallie that Daryl walked a fine line with his older brother. He was grateful for him for sometimes literally keeping him alive, for teaching him survival skills and for intervening when their father came home in a drunken rage.

On the other hand, at times Daryl seemed a bit embarrassed by Merle. He described him as having a lot of the most undesirable qualities that their father had - bad drunk, drug abuser, ill-tempered, ill-mannered, and not someone who could appreciate a woman or treat her with respect. He didn't come out and say that Merle hated women, just that he viewed them with only one purpose in life: to meet his needs.

While they talked, Hallie fixed them leftovers of some stew she had in the freezer. Daryl was impressed that she could cook and being a woman alone, did so for herself rather than eat frozen and canned stuff. He ate two bowls and sopped up the thick juice with bread. Hallie was likewise in awe when he carried not only his own bowl, but hers to the sink and ran water in them. She must have been staring at him because he shrugged at her and said "Hey, that shit dries like cement."

They retired to the living room and sat next to each other on the couch, Daryl flipping through the channels on tv, trying to find something to watch. Hallie rested her head on his chest and sighed.

"What?" he said, his hand absent-mindedly combing through her hair.

"Nothing. Just...feels nice." she smiled.

"I don't wanna' have sex tonight." he said quietly.

"Who ARE you and what have you done with Daryl?" she snapped her head up and looked at him.

"I'm serious. I wanna do this right."

"You did it right the first night we met. At least three times right, as I recall."

Daryl snorted, "I thought yer' havin' trouble wit' that recallin'...an' I'm serious."

"So you want me to go back to the rules?"

"What fuckin' rules?" he asked.

"MY rules." she said. "The ones you shattered. The ones that say three dates first. Don't get drunk. No strange guys. Don't take your underwear off in public. Those kinda' rules."

"How come yer' not followin' 'yer own rules then?"

"I have no idea. You've kinda turned everything upside down."

"Do I get ta' kiss ya' before the third date?" he said, pulling her by the arms toward his lips.

"Yeah."

"Well, now, that's a rule I can live with." he smiled, his lips close to hers, moving quickly, parting hers in a slow kiss that took Hallie's breath away. They continued to neck for a long time until the grandfather's clock in the corner struck one in the morning.

"Need ta' go." Daryl said standing up abruptly.

"Seriously? You're going home? You could sleep here."

"On tha' first date?" he frowned. "Now that wouldn't be followin' tha' rules."

"But..." she whined.

"Hey," he interrupted, "yer tha' one with THAT rule, not me!" he grinned as he pulled her up into an embrace. He slipped his arms around her and held her tightly to him. "I wanna' do this right." he whispered, his mouth against the side of her head.

XXXXX

Daryl shut the refrigerator and opened the beer can, leaning back against the door as he enjoyed the first bubbly sip. He closed his eyes for a second, the faintest smile crossing his face. He opened his eyes just in time to see a dirty t-shirt launched in his direction, heading towards his face.

"Ya' fuckin' got laid, dint'cha? I knew it. Ya' been out all night an' ya' got laid. Who was it this time? Merle said, leering. He walked up to Daryl and sniffed, wrinkling his nose.

"Aw, fuck. She smells sweet. Did she smell that good when ya' were done with her? " The big man grabbed his crotch and tugged. "Didja' leave her smellin' like Dixon?"

"Fuck you, Merle. I didn't get laid." Daryl tossed the t-shirt back in his brother's face. "Just shut tha' fuck up, will ya?"

"Ohhhhh! Little piece a' tail lead ya' on 'n then shut ya' down? Roommate cock-block ya? How tha' hell did ya' NOT get laid tonight, Lil' Brother?"

Daryl sat down on the couch, Merle following him into the living room to continue the probing.

"Merle, shut tha' hell up, I'm fuckin' warning ya." Daryl pointed his finger and narrowed his eyes. "Shut up."

"Oh, come on, I'm jes' fuckin' with ya'? " he plopped down in the chair. "What tha' hell happened?"

"Ran into somebody.'

"That all?" Merle continued to probe.

"No."

"Spill it. I'm yer brother. Ya' have to tell me so I can keep ya' on tha' straight an' narrow. Or at least tell ya' where ya' fucked up what kept 'ya from gettin' laid tonight."

"I didn't WANT ta' get laid tonight."

Merle let out a roar that filled the room. "Oh, holy Jesus, YOU 'r one fucked-up sombitch." He continued to laugh. "Of course ya' wanted ta' get laid tonight. Ya' still got yer' dick, don't 'cha? Got a dick, need ta' get laid. Goes hand 'n hand."

Daryl looked at Merle and flipped him off.

"Well, now, maybe 'n yer' case, tonight, it'll just be dick 'n hand." Merle howled at his own joke.

"It was her." Daryl said quietly.

"The little bitch from the bar?"

"Don't fuckin' call her that." Daryl grimaced. "She ain't no bitch."

"They're all bitches, but whatever, Bro. What'd ya' do if ya' didn't screw her?"

"Got drunk. Fought. Sobered up. Played pool. Watched tv. Came home."

"Pussy." Merle spat. "She wouldn't let ya' fuck 'er this time? What, she got 'r period?"

"Yer' a pig."

"Maybe, but I ain't tha' one that spent tha' evenin' with a hot piece a' ass an' still came home wi' blue balls." Merle scratched his belly and belched loudly. "So out with it."

"Out with what?" Daryl took a drink of his beer and avoided eye contact with Merle.

"Ya' seein' her again?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck. Ya' don't got feelin's for her, do ya'?" Merle looked at Daryl, who was looking at his feet. "Aw, fuck, ya' do, don't ya'? Merle rolled his eyes. "Just what I fuckin' need. Ya' moonin' over some slit who's gonna' drop ya' like a hot potata' an' break yer' fuckin' heart."

"Shut tha' fuck up, Merle." Daryl said, rising and turning towards his bedroom. "Ya' don't know her. Ya' don't know nuthin' 'bout her." he said. Daryl reached his door at the same time that Merle let loose with a content little smile, happy that his visit to Hallie had worked.