I would like to thank EVERYONE for all the kind reviews. Knowing when you like something and when you don't not only improves the quality of my writing but also encourages me to keep posting regularly. I would like to address one review in particular.
SOA Loving Mom: I appreciate your kindness but as far as I am concerned YOU are the Queen of Smut! Chapter 35 of Winters Heat, hello? I am content to remain an adoring member of your court. :)
On to our story. We just got a fix of smut, so it's time to deal with that little thing called plot. Daryl's getting antsy and Carol know theirs only one fix for that. And no, not what your thinking...
Daryl and Carol only gotten to make love twice more in the month since Woodbury arrived, mostly just due to pure exhaustion. Carol alternated nights caring for Judith with Beth and then been assumed to be the head of the kitchens. She had taken the job seriously. After seeing her loved ones hungry so many times in the last year she had been determined to use the new provisions in the least wasteful way possible. Long days had been spent cataloging and arranging storage of the food from Woodbury. Then add on developing meal plans and overseeing meal prep and clean up and she would be falling into bed as soon as supper was cleaned up and breakfast supplies set out for the next morning. On the nights that she had the baby, Carol would doze off with Judith between her and the wall and get up to fix her a bottle when Daryl got off watch at midnight. Then they would fall asleep together, facing, the baby snuggled between their chests. Carol knew this was probably the closest she would ever get to knowing what it would be like to have a child with him, so she would try to memorize the way he would throw his arm over the both of them protectively or stroke the baby's head with his calloused fingers as he slept before falling herself.
She had tried once to get him to take the top bunk on those nights so he could have more room to rest. But he had just given her one of his 'you know better than that' scowls and she had dropped the subject. Carol had counted herself lucky to have gotten Daryl to stop sleeping in his day clothes. A pair of mens knit sleep pants had popped up in the clothing brought back from a run one day and Carol had grabbed them as soon as she saw the size was close enough and the design. The fact that they were grey and covered in black motorcycles could only help her cause.
The shirt had been a trickier matter. A regular t-shirt had seemed too much, and a 'wife beater' wouldn't be enough to cover the marks that crept almost up to the edge of his shoulder. She was also pretty sure the slang name for those would remind him of enough of Ed to refuse to wear them any way. She had finally resorted to one of Daryl's own tricks and cut the sleeves out of a couple of fresh out of the pack tees. She had, however, hemmed the edges so they wouldn't shred as fast as his regular clothes did. She had just handed him the clothes the night that the men had repaired the showers when it was his turn to finally go stand under hot water for the first time in a year. Daryl had hesitated at first but then gave a smirk and took the clothes after he noticed the motorcycles and absent sleeves. However, that had been after he had a few hours to calm down after his altercation with Tyreese.
It had been 2 weeks since their group size had more than doubled when Rick had decided to clear the showers and get them functional. It had been the most logical move after clearing Cell Block D for the new group members. Carol hadn't seen the actual incident but Glenn had told her enough. The men had cleared the hallway and communal shower room which had gone well enough. They had then set to work on the plumbing and getting the solar panels from Woodbury hooked up from the water heaters. Glenn and Rick had naturally gravitated to work with Daryl on the plumbing and Tyreese had invited himself along. Things had went well at first but then Tyreese had casually brought up women as a natural part of the 'man talk' he had been used to in the locker rooms as a ex-football player.
Carol had dropped her her head into her hands when Glenn got to that point in the story. She pretty much had an idea of what was coming and Glenn confirmed it. Tyreese had mentioned Carol's good cooking and how Daryl was a lucky man. Daryl had tolerated that, just giving the man a warning look. But then Tyreese had gone on to mentioned Carol's having a nice ass. Most men would had laughed that off with a 'yeah, she does, lucky me'. CaroL was well aware that her man wasn't like most.
Glenn and Rick had both dove between the men as the words dropped out of Tyreeses mouth. Daryl had chucked the heavy wrench he was using at Tyreese so hard that it had broken a patch of heavy tile less than an inch to the side of his head. Only quick reflexes had saved the ex-athlete from stitches and a possible fractured skull. Daryl had then went for the buck knife at his waist. It had taken Glenn and Rick both to pull an enraged Daryl back into the cell block. She had heard him all the way in the food storage closet as he let Tyreese know what he would do if he ever looked at any part of Carol again. The places he swore he would put an arrow were all much more painful sounding than the proverbial 'to the knee'. He had only shut up when Rick had threatened to lock him in a cell over night to cool off. Rick thought that had worked because of Daryl's claustrophobia but Carol knew better. It would have meant he couldn't sleep between her and their cell door.
That night he had made love to her so tenderly that she knew it was his way of apologizing to her for his actions. They had reveled in each others newly showered bodies, even though the alternative hadn't ever put them off the same activities they had shared before. But after they had finished, his sleep heavy arm over her waist as he snored lightly behind her, she worried. She wasn't the one that needed apologizing to.
Honestly, Carol couldn't say say she hadn't seen some kind of blow up coming. Daryl had made no effort to be around any of the Woodbury people. He spent all his waking hours either on watch, working clearing and repairing their home, or in their cell. In fact, he seemed to have taken a step back with the rest of the group as well. He had lost all of his smart assed fun he had with Glenn before the war, and only spoke to Rick to suss out the plans for the next day. It was obvious that his loyalty still lay with their group, but outside of her and Judith, he was traveling back toward the loner he had been on the farm. Carol was desperate for the key to help set him back on the positive direction he had been on.
She knew the fact that he hadn't properly mourned Merle was a large part of it. He hadn't even spoken of him since the first night back from Woodbury. And those few words in the tower were no where near enough. But mourning is a thing she wasn't prepared to push until he was ready, which he obviously wasn't.
But getting outside the prison walls was a big part too. She had first thought the increased resources would allow him a rest from hunting. The time away from the wild had only proved to make him even more restless than ever. Daryl practically vibrated with tension anytime he was anywhere but in their bed. That was a situation she was pretty sure she could help fix.
She had posed it just as an absent minded remark. She was a smart enough woman to know men tend to agree with ideas they believe are their own. She had been laying in bed a couple nights after the showers incident and mentioned how she missed fresh meat. She had already noticed the nights had started to get brisk which meant time was getting close for the deer to begin their yearly rut. Which she was sure meant Daryl knew time for good hunting (or as good as it got now that they competed with the walkers) was upon them. Actually, she had caught him near the fence searching the tree line a couple times already. He had said he was looking for sign of walker herds but she knew that wasn't the type of herd he was searching for. Daryl was hoping for the sign of a bucks rack, or the flash of a white tail in the tree shadows.
Daryl had immediately been fully awake the second she mentioned the possibility. At first, he had hemmed and hawwed, for her sake she was sure. But then he had said he would go out if she had to have some fresh venison for the kitchen. She had smiled and they both had soon fell heavily asleep. If only she had known then that one conversation would be a pivotal point on which a whole families lives and Daryl's permenant sanity would eventually hang.