So, I'm not really sure what to do with this chapter, but we'll see what my brain thinks of while I write!

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Daryl ran the whetstone over the blade of his buck knife, smiling slightly at the sound of the scrape on the metal. He eyed the pile of knives, machetes and axes beside him that he had to sharpen and sighed, but it was better than doing nothing. It was pouring rain outside, thunder cracks shook the prison occasionally and lightning lit up the room. No point in even attempting to hunt, nothing would be out in this.

So he sat there in the almost silence, the only sound was the sharpening and the thunder. He was use to silence, he liked it in fact, but for some reason he felt on edge and he looked up suddenly and scanned the room.

Shaking his head and chalking it off as being over cautious and bowed his head back down as he focused on the blade of the axe he had picked up. Out of pure boredom, he began to whistle no particular tune and occasionally broke off into humming or softly singing the words, off key, he assumed, but he didn't really care.

"You sound happy," a voice made him jump, almost slicing his already injured hand on the axe. He looked up with a glare as Michonne walked in and he wanted to smack himself for thinking about the way her hips naturally swayed as she walked toward him. "What are you singing?"

"Wasn't really thinking about it," he admitted, going back to his work. Michonne sat down on the floor next to him and picked up his buck knife to examine it.

"That's a really nice knife you got there," she commented. "Can I help?"

Daryl eyed her suspiciously but her handed her a whetstone and a machete. Michonne knew what she was doing so he didn't bother explaining the procedure.

"So do you trust me yet?" she asked after a while, she didn't look at him or anything, she just...said it like it was nothing.

"Well..." Daryl thought about it for a while, "I don't have any reason no t' I guess. But, I still have some...concerns."

"Yeah, I don't trust you yet either," Michonne replied, not sounding at all put off by his statement.

"Good t' know," Daryl mumbled, setting the axe aside.

"But I guess I trust you just enough to be friends," Michonne added softly.

Daryl looked over at her with an unsure expression, but when she raised her eyes from the machete and smiled at him. It was s genuine smile and her chocolate brown eyes glinted as a flash of lightning split the sky outside and lit the room and Daryl felt the corner of his mouth twitch almost involuntarily.

"I guess we can trust eachother that much," he agreed, "I guess I kinda owe you for savin' my ass."

"Twice."

"Hey, I woulda got that one under the car, ya just happened to get there first," Daryl argued.

"Sure you would've, Tim McGraw," Michonne teased, "You totally had everything under control."

"Shut yer trap, lady," Daryl grumbled, "I've gotten outta plenty o' tight scrapes without ya."

"Well, maybe I'm your guardian angel then," Michonne stated stubbornly, "Face it, Dixon, you need me."

Daryl watched her work for a while while he uncrossed his legs to stretch them out from sitting there for so long. He stretched his arms behind his back and twisted, popping his back loudly.

"Yikes!" Michonne laughed, "That sounded a little painful!"

"Naw," Daryl responded with a mumble, he rubbed his shoulder firmly where the muscles were tight from the monotonous movement of sharpening, "Tell you what hurts is my fuckin' shoulders."

Michonne looked over at him, watching him closely while keeping her expression neutral. He looked so pathetic sitting there like he was, legs straight out in front of him, right hand rubbing his neck and left shoulder, his eyes dropped closed as he sighed heavily. But since his left hand was out of commission for a while, he could only twist his right shoulder to try and relieve the tension.

"Need some help there?" she asked out loud, and she wanted to bite her tongue off for betraying her thought.

Daryl immediately stopped moving and his eyes popped open. His expression became calculating and he looked at her from under his brow and she found herself unable to move or think when he had her pegged like that. Finally, he dropped his eyes and nodded.

"If you would, I ain't gonna say no," he said dully.

Michonne smiled slightly as she stood and moved to kneel behind him. She gently laid her hands on his shoulders and felt him tense under her touch.

"Hey," she said softly, "Relax, redneck."

Daryl sniff-laughed nervously but he let his muscles relax as Michonne dug her palms into shoulder blade and her fingers into the muscle where his neck and shoulder connected and sqeezed expertly. She felt the firm tension of his muscles as they normally were and also the random spots where the knots crackled under her hands, causing Daryl to flinch and make a small sound of discomfort. She pressed her fingertips into one exceptionally tense spot and he jerked forward with a yelp.

"Ow, that hurts!" he snapped, Michonne grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back up.

"I know it," she said firmly, "But no pain no gain. You have to work it out or it's just going to build up more."

Daryl grunted as she dug in again but he didn't pull away again, he just bit his lip and moaned every once in a while. Michonne could feel the crackling starting lessen as he knot worked loose under her fingers and eventually he stopped his little whimpers and she knew it was gone so she slid her hands down to his upper back and made fists, twisting them in half circles while pressed.

"Mmmm..." Daryl's deep, guttural moan made her hesitate for a second.

"That shouldn't hurt," she claimed.

"I doesn't," he replied with the same deep, rumbling tone. "Don't fuckin' stop now."

Michonne laughed but continued her pushes and kneading, working slowly down his back. Michonne found herself admiring the feel of his warm, firm muscles under his skin and she wondered just where this was coming from exactly, she didn't find him attractive at all. Not really anyway. Sure, he had gorgeous eyes and he was strong and woods-smart, and he walked with a kind of cute strut, but seriously she had no idea when she had noticed any of these things. When her hands slid down to the small of his back he jumped up suddenly and cleared his throat.

"Hey, uh, thanks," he stuttered, "I have to..."

"You're awful jumpy, Dixon," Michonne said with a teasing grin.

He just laughed humorlessly and picked up the pile of newly sharpened weapons as he backed towards the door, his eyes looking at her like he was sizing her up. He nodded as he pushed the bars open his his butt and then turned the corner, heading towards the storage room. Michonne sighed and wondered what the heck her mind was doing to her.

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So, there's some more, slowly building towards attraction. Next chapter we'll start working on Daryl's mind ;)

Let me know if you have any ideas on how we can accomplish this. Seriously, guys, I want to know if you have any ideas!