A few groups were going out for supplies and if she titled her head and squinted just right she could see exactly why. This was a mission designed specifically so they could all get to know each other a bit better.
Buffy had strategically split them up into several smaller clusters. Daryl with Faith, Rick and Michonne with a younger girl she didn't recognize yet, Glenn and Abe with two other women who'd she'd seen at breakfast that morning.
Some stayed behind, which made sense and considering she never expected them to tag her for runs she wasn't exactly disappointed when Vi had ushered her into the kitchen and asked in a rush of words if she could try to make something that resembled snacks from whatever they had left.
That was where she'd been for the last hour. Steadily stirring muffin mix and adding in random items to the batter that she knew would be healthy but blend well into the overall flavor.
Her mind drifted to Daryl and she wondered how his run was going with Faith. Wondered if he was safe, if his new adventure buddy had his back or not. She hadn't spent much time with any of their new acquaintances yet but from what she could see Faith appeared to be competent enough, if somewhat nonchalant about their situation in general.
"Hey, whatcha makin'? Ohhh, muffins."
Carol looked up to see Buffy enter the kitchen and reach over to a tray of already baked muffins to pilfer one off the rack.
"Vi requested snacks, I aim to please." She said with a smile as Buffy proceeded to tear pieces off the still hot muffin.
"You ok? You looked a hundred miles away just then."
She responded without thought, this question was easy. "Fine."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Fine, fine? Or fine with capital letters, hand gestures and manic laughter? Because I don't know about you, but option B is pretty tempting these days."
Her mixing stopped and she cut her eyes up to regard the person in front of her who was waiting with open interest for her reply. "I'm…not sure how to answer that."
Buffy nodded. "Understandable."
Carol paused a moment. Tried to shake off that feeling of defensiveness that overtook her when anyone tried to pry even a little bit. Decided to shift attention away from herself and redirect Buffy's focus elsewhere for the time being.
"We all really appreciate you letting us stay here. It couldn't have come at a better time."
Buffy stopped her muffin disassembly. "Xander's the one to thank for that. I was against it, part of me still is to be honest, but I'm choosing to believe that he knows what he's doing. Even if it's hard to see it right now."
"You lead the group, you don't have final say on things like this?"
Buffy huffed out a laugh. "Sure. Mostly. But this isn't a dictatorship. Been there, done that, never works out well. Got the T-shirt and the year's supply of Xanax for my troubles."
Carol pondered this information a moment. Decided she liked the answer and slid another muffin in Buffy's direction after the first one had disappeared completely, then went back to filling up the tray with fresh batter.
"These are amazing."
Carol gave a half smile along with her response. "I used to make them like this for my husband. Found some unopened applesauce in the back of the pantry. It takes the place of butter and keeps the muffins from drying out."
"So I take it the husband is not Mr. tall dark and broody out there in the shed with you?"
"Daryl? No. We're not…like that."
The expression on Buffy's face was a mixture of surprise and disbelief but she didn't voice either of those when she spoke. "Well I'd suggest you lay claim to that one pretty soon because in case you haven't noticed there's a lot of hormones floating around this place. Poor guy won't know what hit him if they start thinking he's fair game."
Carol huffed in mock exasperation. "Laying claim to Daryl would be like trying to herd cats."
"That bad, huh?"
Carol nodded, her expression amused. "Some days even worse."
They both laughed and she remembered all the times she thought she was trying to do just that. Lay claim. A hundred different moments of their days together flashed through her mind. All the times they had touched, flirted, comforted each other and she still had no idea where they stood. Maybe she never knew at all. Maybe it didn't even matter when they all had other things to worry about.
She placed the remaining mix into the oven and shut the door before regarding this person who seemed easier to talk to than most of her group combined. Why was that, she wondered. Maybe it was the allure of conversation between two people that didn't know anything about one another. No one was reading between the lines, deciphering hidden meanings or seeing anything but what the other presented. There was so much history between her core group now. So many regrets. How do you talk about anything normal with people who have killed along side you.
She wondered how long it would be before she felt that way about Buffy too, about everyone else they were surrounded by now.
Her gaze absent-mindedly went to the one place she'd been trying to avoid staring at during their entire talk. A long scar from one side of Buffy's neck, to the middle and a few inches downward. It was as if her throat had been cut but the person holding the knife was stopped midway.
She realized she was staring and quickly corrected herself but had already been caught.
"It's ok, it's hard not to look at it. Trust me, I know. But that's a story for another day."
She was about to respond. Apologize for staring, tell Buffy she didn't expect an explanation, but they were interrupted by the sounds of a car and a loud string of cursing coming from what sounded like Faith. They made their way out to the front porch just in time to witness Daryl dragging her out the car door and hefting half her upper body over his arm as they shuffled toward the house.
She held the door for them as they entered. "What happened?"
"Donkey kicked her into a barb wire fence."
Both Buffy and Carol stopped and stared directly at him, looks of disbelief evident on their faces and he only shrugged before depositing Faith onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. She was dripping a steady stream of blood from a gash in her right thigh and left a heavy trail in her wake.
"He's not kidding. Fucking donkey came outta nowhere. How's a girl supposed to be prepared for that shit? Zombies I can handle. Donkey's are angry little fuckers."
Faith winced as Carol peeled back the torn fabric from her thigh. "It's pretty deep, you probably need stitches just to be safe. If you have the supplies I can do it for you."
Faith shrugged. "Fine by me. Hurts like a bitch already. Ohh are those muffins?"
Buffy nodded at Carol as she tossed a muffin to Faith. "I'll get the stuff. You sure you know what you're doing?"
"We had a vet with us before, he taught her."
Carol looked up at Daryl from her spot next to Faith at his comment. He'd been proud of her back at the prison when she was learning from Herschel. Useful things like sewing up a wound or setting a broken bone. He'd tried to hide it but he wasn't nearly as good at hiding his thoughts as he liked to think he was.
Buffy seemed to take this information as being good enough and quickly left in search of the items she needed.
Twenty minutes later Faith had a straight line of tiny stitches in her upper thigh, Daryl tried and failed to hide the smallest of smirks at her accomplishment, and Buffy offered her a new job that didn't involve making muffins and had everything to do with using the skills she didn't think she'd be breaking out again any time soon.