There's no way I could do this challenge without being AU, but I thought I would give it a go. ;) No ZA, set in the same year though.

God, he fucking hated computers. Hated how you couldn't see how they worked. What was wrong with talking to someone on the telephone? Or face to face? Or not at fucking all?

It sucked that he needed the goddamned thing for work. That he had to have a lesson from some baby faced smug prick of a 19 year old who laughed every time he pressed the wrong key. He felt three times his age every time he switched the thing on.

And then he'd gone and left the damn thing up and running before going out on a hunt.

He'd half expected to find it smashed to bits somewhere or the thing filled with something the kid had called viruses, because he knew Merle would be looking up porn if he got his hands on it. But it was as he left it. Or so he thought.

It had been fine until he clicked the icon for his e-mail.

How the fuck did he have 219 fucking emails?

He got exactly two emails a day, both from his supervisor with his delivery routes.

What the fuck was OkCupid?

Daryl clicked open the first that had popped into his inbox.

Welcome to OkCupid!...Wait, welcome to what?

Fuck. He scrolled through each one. You have a new message. You have a new message. You have a new message.

There was a link to the message in each e-mail and he finally plucked up the courage to click on it, opening a new window. As the thing loaded, slowly it finally clicked with him as to what OkCupid was. A dating site? How the hell had this happened?!

The message loaded.

"Sent from...hotmama76." He mumbled to himself as he pulled out a chair and resigned himself to having to sort through the crap.

Fuck you, you jerk.

Why would some girl send him that? How the fuck did he work this goddamned site?

It took an hour, three cigarettes and a cup and a half of coffee before he figured out what had gone on. Merle, or one of his dumb ass friends, seeing as Merle only had one hand these days, had gone and set up an account with a dating site.

The profile was awful. Absolutely terrible. They hadn't gotten a picture of him, thank fuck, so there was just a grey box in the top left hand corner. His username made him sit out a mouthful of coffee. TheBigDickedD. He was going to fucking murder Merle.

But at the same time, he had to fucking hand it to the idiot, the plan was fucking priceless. If it hadn't been a joke on him, he'd've found it hysterical.

Hi, I'm Daryl and I'm ready to get fucked by some sexy sluts tonight.

Oh God, he wanted to puke.

I've got a dick the size of chipolata but I know how to work it. I've gotten several years practicing on ploughing it in apple pies and my kissing skills are better than a horse's.

I'm looking to fuck any whore that's dumb enough to have me. Fatties need not apply.

Great. Fucking great. What was even better is that they'd sent a message to practically every woman in Georgia offering up his sexual services. The messages ranged from creepy to downright gross.

And needless to say, the responses were not favourable.

Fuck you, dickwad.

Why the hell would you do this?

I hope you get an STD and your dick drops off, loser.

ASSHOLE.

He stopped clicking on them after reading lonelyAtlantamama66's 500 word diatribe about what a shitty human being he was.

It took another two cigarettes and a beer before he finally gave up on trying to delete the damned profile. But he did manage to find the edit button and he viciously hit the backspace key repeatedly until every foul word disappeared. He deliberated on leaving it blank but he figured maybe he could do a bit of damage control.

This profile was made by my brother. Sorry for any rude messages.

He needed dinner. He needed a fucking punchbag and a fifth of tequila but he'd settle for a sandwich.

By the time Daryl had gotten back to the table and taken another look at the inbox, three more messages had appeared.

The first two were more abuse, judging by the subject titles. But the third one, that caught his eye. Instead of words in the subject, there were just two symbols, which he had learned only recently was a smiley face.

He clicked the message. Her user name was GeorgianCarol71 and before he read the message, his eye caught the little square that contained her picture on the top. It was a closeup of her head and shoulders, she had short hair, so short it was almost stark, but it suited her. Showed off her features. She was pretty. Twinkly, blue eyes and she smiled brightly, her tongue just poking out through her teeth, making her look mischievous.

I figured you'd gotten pranked. No harm, no foul. :)

And there it was again, that little smiley face. It was reassuring that at least one person didn't hate his guts without even knowing who the fuck he was.

So reassuring, that his fingers flexed across the keyboard clumsily, hestitantly typing out a response.

My dumbass brother. Gotten enough abuse from women to last me a lifetime.

He clicked send without thinking and hovered the mouse over her profile. It flashed green and he clicked it, just curious enough to take a closer look. Not that he was gonna do anything about it.

My name is Carol, I'm 41 and I live just outside Atlanta. I'm a mom to a 12 year old girl and up until recently I was a homemaker. Since my divorce last year I've been working as a classroom assistant at a kindergarten as well as finishing up my qualification to become a teacher.

Damn, this woman was smart. A lady. What the fuck did she even respond for? He was just about to finally give up and shut the stupid machine down when the inbox flashed, indicating another message.

Why not take one more round of abuse, he thought with a sigh.

But it wasn't abuse. It was her again. Carol.

I'm sure you'll get over it. ;) Maybe you should set about to changing that profile around and using it properly. Might find you get something better than threats.

He smiled at the screen. Couldn't help himself, as stupid as it was. But already he could imagine her, sitting hunched over a laptop, smiling that cheeky grin as she typed up her message.

He mulled it over a bit. Merle would laugh his ass off if he did anything with the goddamned website. Pushed away from the table to get another beer and considered the laptop, the glow of the screen lighting up the kitchen.

As the cap clinked on the counter he took a pull from the brown bottle and made his way back to the table.

The arrow hovered on the red X in the right hand corner. Let it linger as he looked at her picture once more.

Daryl let out a defeated sigh, put the beer down and clicked on reply.

Not altogether sure on what I should be doing, maybe you could show me how?

Send.