Disclaimer: I don't own them, which I'm in therapy trying to come to terms with... ; )

Notes: This is Speghetti Tuesday's update! Massive apologies! I was trying to get it out to you guys on Wednesday but I sent it to my Beta and by mutual agreement we both looked at the chapter and said "Where the Hell is the Smex?!" Then my Muse decided to sulk because she wanted to write the angsty bit from an up-and-coming chapter and I had to tell her 'No! Write this! People are waiting!' So she grumbled and whined and then gave up and agreed to rate this chapter M for darn good reason! :P

Huge thanks to the readers and reviewers, and as always to my awesome Beta for her dedication in keeping my 'Daryl' speak 'Daryl-y' and not all English-like. LOL

Chapter Twenty-Two

(Fin's POV)

"Daryl stop," He pauses just a few feet ahead of me, glancing over his shoulder to catch my eye while I move closer. I nod my head directing his attention back through the trees, indicating the Walker's quite a few yards off still but slowly moving across our path.

"Didn't even hear 'em." He scowls raising his bow and taking down the first one still more than 30 yards off to our right. Show off. I drop the second and a third while he reloads bringing the fourth body to the ground. If it was just me out here I might have left them; but Daryl likes to take care of them before they can find and eat anyone else. I used to do the same thing once upon a time, I got out of the habit though before I had Daryl and the others to worry about; using the Walkers for protection from people I wanted them around, the more the better.

I've been redirecting them away from home anytime I found the opportunity these last few months, killing them only when I couldn't send them away easily. Anytime we went out to hunt or scout, if I was alone I'd simply send them away from us again. It's hard to tell after a while if I'm redirecting the same ones over and over again or if it's new ones every time.

I can't help but wonder if there's some pattern to it; something I'm missing in their behavior. I'm still not sure why they wander like they do, I might never understand it. Is it really just random movement drawn by one chance sound or another or is something driving them?

I mentioned it to Daryl this morning and he just shrugged. I guess when you have to worry about them eating your face you have less time to wonder about the why they're doing it.

We both retrieve our arrows and keep walking, Daryl in the lead still by silent agreement, even though I'm the one warning him of Walkers long before he sees them—I'm the one in the least amount of danger out here at least where the dead are concerned.

"We head back to the highway and Rick can pick us up there."

I stare at the ground under my boots as I follow him, put off by the knot twisting in my stomach at the idea of sitting in a vehicle with Rick for the drive back to the warehouse. I don't think he's mad at me for saving his son's life; but still the idea of being a captive audience with him even with Daryl present in the car makes me feel a little sick.

It might even be worse with Daryl there; he hasn't really laid into me about that day on the highway and he could have; I scared the hell out of him. I know that. I put him through absolute hell the last few weeks, even though I had my reasons and I think he understands them now. He's right, I should have trusted him at least enough to give him a chance before I turned tail and ran.

I swallow clearing my throat softly. "Do we have to call Rick? To pick us up, I mean."

Daryl doesn't stop walking, doesn't even glance back at me but I know he heard me. "Not if you don't want to, but you're going to have to face him sooner or later."

Yeah, I'm well aware of that fact. But still; part of me wants to put it off a little while longer, though it probably won't do anything to steady my nerves. Daryl pauses suddenly turning to look at me again expression tight matching his tone. "You're not still worried about everyone else in the group are you?"

I shrug not meeting his eyes, not stopping either planning to simply pass him and take the lead. I don't really want to talk about it; I don't know what else to say. But yes, I'm still a little worried about it. I have a feeling this knot twisting in my gut will be a permanent resident even after I join up with them again; it will take a while to feel at ease with my secret on display.

Daryl's hands on my shoulders bring me up short. "If you want to walk all the way home I'm not going to complain about the alone time, but I don't want to do it if it's just because you're still worried they might be mad at you or think your some kind of monster. You're still you, nothing changes that. You're the same person they've lived with all year. Maggie an' Glenn were devastated when they found out you left us. Carol cried completely at random for damn near a solid week—I didn't even know what the Hell would set her off half the time. I don't even have to tell you how upset Mika was; girl thinks you hung the moon and the stars."

"There's a lot more people then—"

"Everyone was upset when you were gone. Especially when we realized just how special you are; Hell they were so upset that you didn't trust us enough to tell us—" I open my mouth to interject but Daryl silences me with a look and keeps going. "—I know you had your reasons, damn good ones. But we're family. All of us. Best damn family I ever had. We take care of each other, just like you took care of Mika, and Carl. You didn't even hesitate you just jumped in headfirst. That's the kind of family this is. We look out for each other, we protect each other and we fight to stay together no matter what. And you belong in it."

"Yeah but what about Ri—"

"You don't need to worry 'bout Rick. That night you left us all he wanted to know was why you didn't bring Carl back to the warehouse. Michonne was there telling him every five seconds that the reason you weren't there was because you were busting your ass somewhere trying to keep him alive! We we're shocked as Hell alright? But there was no discussion of what went down on that highway other than them asking me how the Hell I didn't know!"

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't be sorry." He takes in my expression at his tone. "Yeah, okay be a little sorry, that hurt like hell." He admits staring down at me eyes distractingly bright blue luminescent almost against the background of green and brown. The sunlight filtering through the leaves overhead highlights an abstract patch of suntanned skin over one muscled shoulder the shape shifting and morphing with the breeze overhead drawing my attention, giving me something else to focus on so I can ignore the burning in the back of my throat.

"But I don't want you stall'n out here 'cause you think there's some lynch mob waiting for you back home; cause there aint. And you're gonna have to trust me on that." He pins me with that laser sharp gaze, the one he rarely uses and that makes it hard to even look away from.

"I trust you," I tell him simply.

"Then trust me. They're our family. Don't you think for a second they don't love you to, Carol? Mika…Carl, Molly…Sasha and Maggie…"

My eyes dart away to the tree line feeling suspiciously wet at the moment.

"Like I said," Daryl continues ignoring my tears. "You wanna take the long way home, guess there's no harm. Seeing as you got built-in Walker-Radar."

I try to roll my eyes at that not completely succeeding. "Yeah well we'll never get there if we don't start walking." Daryl lets go of my shoulders without another word giving me some space. He's familiar with that need as well. We walk for another twenty minutes in silence before he speaks again.

"Tell me sumthing, on that damn highway. Did you know how many of 'em were there?"

I frown. "No, I've never felt anything like that. I knew there were Walkers—and I knew it was a lot but I had no idea there were so many, it was just like…like white noise in my head. Sometimes it feels like this buzz along my skin, makes all the hair stand up on my arms."

"Like when you stand under them big power lines when it's foggy or raining—back when they used to run?"

I consider that for a moment. I'd encountered them a few times in the back woods in West Virginia hiking with Luke. "Yeah, it's a lot like that."

"If you know their coming how'd that Walker get the jump on you back in that house?"

"I was distracted, and I thought there was only one. I didn't realize there was a second guy in the garage. It's not usually a problem; they don't usually go after me…"

" 'Cept that one did. Could'a gotten hurt." I can hear the frown in his tone even without seeing his face.

"I made a mistake, it happens."

"Mistake coulda got you killed." His tone has turned harsh.

Yes. It's possible; I've gotten too comfortable around them.

"I'll try to be more careful, I haven't missed any of them out here yet." Course I'm being very careful with Daryl out in the open with me. I should have been more careful in that damn house. If he'd gone to the kitchen and I'd checked the bedrooms today could have ended very differently.

"Could you do it again?" Maybe Daryl's thinking the same thing.

"You mean if you got bit?" The idea alone makes me shudder, my insides twist with anxiety.

"Without get'n bit? Could you do the same thing? Hell, might stop us from getting torn up in the first place…"

"You mean like a vaccine?" He nods and I frown, I've thought about it before truthfully; but if all the scientists at Winchester where Luke was couldn't figure out how to make a vaccine with the resources they had available to them I can't believe it's that simple.

I'm still shocked it worked with Carl. I shake my head. "That…might be dangerous." I finally tell him.

What if my blood and whatever is in it infects them without the bite? I could make them sick or kill them possibly; I have no idea. And I don't really feel like experimenting on people I care about; certainly not on someone I love. Dread claws at my stomach at the thought.

"Worked for Carl," he reminds me.

"Yeah, but Carl was already bit; I mean I couldn't make it much worse could I? I didn't even know if it would work! Say I did infect you with my blood, what if whatever compound is in there makes you sick? What if it kills you? I couldn't live with myself…"

"Look—" Daryl frowns glancing at me. "I aint some fancy scientist, most the shit we learned back at the CDC went over my head. Aint gotta be smart to know how this works. Hell we're all infected, at least the rest of us— I die, anyone dies, they turn. Difference does a damn bite make?"

Well, yeah at that point there's no other choice. I scrub my fingernails over my forearms crossing them over my middle, this conversation; the whole topic makes my skin crawl.

Daryl glances at me, noting my unease. "Sorry, didn't mean to upset you."

"No, it's okay." I frown. "I just…I don't like the idea of you or anyone else getting bit. Even in theory; what if it didn't work again?" Would they blame me then?

What if Carl was a single miracle I couldn't reproduce?

Would they hate me if I couldn't save the next person?

"You're doing it again."

I catch his gaze out of the corner of my eye before turning my head away under the pretense of watching where I'm placing my feet. I shrug one shoulder, not denying it, with Daryl there's no point. "It's a hard habit to break."

"Gonna be dark in a bit, there someplace you want to move towards for the night?" Daryl changes the subject while I shift the bag over my shoulders with both hands.

"There aren't any cabins or house's out this way; not unless we want to move south towards the other highway—and that's dangerous, too many Walkers. I'm too tired to deal with that." And by the time we reached anything in useable condition it would be well past dark.

He nods. "So we sleep out here tonight."

No other choice, unless we want to keep moving all night long. I got my fill of stumbling around in the dark tripping over half-defined shadows two nights ago. No thanks.

We have enough supplies gathered from the houses we searched earlier in the day that we should be able to make a half-way secure campsite for sleeping tonight. And with the hammock in my bag we won't have to sleep on the ground. We need water though. I shift our direction a bit more, we should have hit the creek by now; it's got to be close.

Its late afternoon and my hip flexors are protesting the hours of walking and other activities by the time we find the creek. We must be further north then I originally thought because the section of creek we've located runs directly off the smaller edge of a moderate size lake.

The woods run right up to its edge, there's no bank or grassy edge of any distinction telling me we're still deep in the section of woods that was one a nature reserve. This isn't a body of water that's been tampered with by man. There's no obvious place to put in a boat; even a small one for fishing; and no sign of a road or trail even heavily overgrown beneath the trees leading too or from its edge when we circle it looking for an obvious path to take tomorrow morning.

I know we're moving in the right direction from the lowering sun, and the lichen growing on the rocks and tree trunks—I'm just no longer certain exactly how high up the highway we might emerge when we reach the other side of the trees. I wasn't exactly careful two days before when I was fleeing Daryl's pursuit, more concerned with laying false trails and speed then accuracy in my exact direction. We might be farther from home then I originally thought. We can't be that far off course though since the Walkie still works.

I set my bag down and open the main compartment to sift through our ill-gotten goods pulling out the spool of heavy twine Daryl found in the Garage of one of the homes. I sit next to my bag stringing the metal spoons stolen from several kitchens one by one onto the line through the little holes at their handle ends. They clink against one another as each one drops into my lap creating an odd decorative banner. Then I tie a loop in the very end of the line winding it around a tree trunk and threading the spool through its hole so I don't have to tie a knot in the twine and risk not being able to undo it quickly tomorrow. The less we have to risk cutting the string the more we'll have for a later date. While I work Daryl clears a space for a fire clearing leaves and debris and digging down into the dirt a few feet to hide the flames.

I work my way around another tree roughly fifteen feet from the first making sure several spoons remain on the long stretch of twine now suspended almost taut between the trunks roughly four feet from the ground. Just enough slack that the spoons sit together and will clink and alert us if anything should run into the line. I repeat the process with a third tree and then a fourth, then continue around a second time setting the second strand roughly two feet high this time until I've ringed in the small stand of trees I need to suspend the hammock from.

When I pluck the line with a finger to check my work the metallic spoons rattle together with a distinct sound. Who needs ADT when you've got Kitchen utensils?

Next I pull the Hammock from my bag, shaking it out and securing the rope on one end around a sturdy tree a good five feet off the ground since it will sag with both our weight. If it was just me we'd sleep much higher completely out of reach and the string and spoons wouldn't be necessary. Any Walkers who might be waiting under us in the morning I could deal with before they became a problem. But I can't climb up a tree and sleep leaving Daryl on the ground, and Daryl can't climb up the tree's like I can—and even if he could I highly doubt he'd want to. He's never been a huge fan of my rock climbing tent I don't think he'd find the infinitely thinner and see through hammock any more reassuring.

"Almost done?"

I pull the last knot tight, double checking it leaning back on the rope with a steady pull and then a few sharp jerks. "Yup." Daryl's already got a fire going, it's young still just starting its way through small sticks and moss not yet eating into the dry dead half split log he's placed in its grasp.

"Could'a stayed put another night."

I frown at him sitting down a few feet away to sift through the items in my bag. "No we needed the water." The few bottles we found wouldn't last long if we'd stayed, not with us already dehydrated and needing to drink more to prevent further harm. I grab my bow and two arrows from my quiver standing back up Daryl glances up but doesn't ask.

I step carefully through the twine alarm system and move to the water trying circling carefully until I see movement against the muddy bottom. I'd kill for a net right now.

I set my bow down next to the two arrows on the bank pulling off my boots the cotton dress we found in one of the houses hangs down past the jean shorts by a good three inches offering me more cover; but I don't really want to get it wet. I pull it up and off my head tossing it over a bush.

"Hell you doin?"

"What do you think the odds are that there's alligators in there?" I ask him only half joking instead of answering before bending down to grab one of the arrows I set down previously and sliding it very carefully half under the braid knotted now against the back of my head like an oversized writing utensil. Daryl's staring at me, expression carefully blank when I glance at him grabbing the other arrow and my bow before stepping into the soft mud just past the water's edge.

It's warm at the edge; but colder with each step the deeper it gets. By the time it hits the hem on my shorts sending the tiny white frayed strings floating on its surface around each thigh like a tattered halo my toes are icy cool. I wiggle them a few times sinking a bit into the soft mud trying not to think about pinchy things like crawdads or B-movie TV horrors like mud monsters.

Hey, laugh all you want; when dead people are roaming around snacking on folks the monster from the blue lagoon makes you wonder…

I hear boots hitting the bank behind me with two distinct heavy thuds and Daryl cursing when the water hits his toes.

"You Serious? No way you shoot a fish like that." He stops just behind me, not moving as deep as I did but still enough to ripple the water; sending a rolling cloud of dirt sweeping past my legs under the water making it hard to see beneath the surface.

"Not with you stomping around behind me like Bigfoot." I point out.

"We have food."

And we do, he's right. We didn't bring a lot; cans are murder to carry with the weight. Just a few add up fast on top of everything else we needed to carry. But I needed to cool off anyway; and clean up and this is a great excuse. I nock my first arrow. "Shhh, you're messing up my Zen."

He doesn't leave, but he does stay remarkable still behind me with all the practiced ease of one used to hunting and going unnoticed by his prey.

After a few minutes the water stills, just the tiniest rings occasionally blooming around my legs when I sway slightly. The mud has settled and I can see my toes just barely visible peaking up at me looking pasty white against the dark grain. Several minutes after that the fish I saw darting away when my shadow originally moved across the surface begin swimming cautiously back towards the shallow water. My arms are starting to ache from the constant tension, but if I move now I might startle them away again sending me back to square one.

I wait until the biggest one I've seen within reach swims closer. I have to twist slightly trying to do it very slowly without moving my legs. I close one eye aiming and let the fletching go. The arrow breaks the surface losing speed but staying remarkably on course, the fish is damn fast though. I curse grabbing my arrow out of the mud.

"Alright, that would have been impressive."

"Let's see you do it then."

"Give me the bow." Daryl's hand bumps the edge of my arm palm up. I hand it over.

"An this is dangerous." He informs me pulling the arrow in my hair out and wading up a few feet towards the bank to bury it point down a few inches in the mud sticking up like some forlorn leafless plant.

"Don't be a stick in the mud," Daryl rolls his eyes at me. "Seriously, you can't reach it over there if you need it. Every time you move you'll scare the fish." I'm staring down at the muddy bottom wiggling my toes in the loose silky earth. Watching the little rolling dark cloud fan out from around my feet to slide through the water since he's moving around I hardly need to worry I'll scare away a potential meal.

"Guess I'm gonna have to use some bait then…" I have about a split second to wonder what the Hell he means by that when we're fishing with an arrow not a reel. Then it's suddenly crystal clear. I let out a startled yelp that turns into a scream as Daryl grabs me around the waist lifts me up and chucks me about five feet into the air out over the deeper water.

I land with a splash going completely under and touching muddy bottom. Something slimy touches my foot that nearly makes me scream again even before my head breaks the clear. I pop back to the surface gasping and spitting water out of my mouth.

"You Bastard!" I shove water at him with my hand, barely splashing him from this distance. "I don't have any other clothes!"

He doesn't look contrite, not even a little. "Even better!"

Oh, what the Hell.

I wiggle around treading water with just my legs almost bobbing completely under a few times, trying not to think about whether the creepy thing that touched my leg is seaweed or some fish with teeth…

"Catch!" I toss my shorts overhanded hitting Daryl in the chest with a wet sound, they fall when he makes no move to stop them. He stares at them floating on the water in front of him like he's trying to figure out what they are.

He's still staring down at them when I manage to hit him in the head with the camisole I had on under the dress from earlier. He pulls the offending garment off his head shaking wet dripping bangs out of his eyes glaring at me as I tread closer so my feet reach the bottom again. Though I'm not sure it's better this way since I can't see what I'm touching. I'm pretty sure we scared away all the fish; but that doesn't stop my brain from focusing on snippets of every monster movie I've ever watched involving a lake…

"If something eats me in here I'm blaming you." I warn him.

"You could always get out if you're that worried about it." Daryl tells me voice completely sincere. Though…I'm not positive I'd be much safer on the bank after the next look he shoots me. Oh boy.

"I can't get out I'm Naked!" I remind him with mock indignation.

"Pfft, threw you in, didn't tell you to get naked."

I scoff at him watching him wring out my wet clothes tossing them over his bare shoulder like trophies. I narrow my eyes.

"Who else is gonna see?" He adds.

And okay, he has a point, but it's not even dark! Alone or not parading around in the nude is just…too weird. Despite my usual behavior around Daryl; especially the last two days… just hanging out like a nudist colony recruit is…yikes.

I can't just stay here, it is actually a little cold now that all of me is wet. More than a little; a fact that's been painfully obvious since the second my body hit the water. I rub my palms over my arms feeling the gooseflesh broken out over my skin frowning. I can always put the dress back on without the shorts…course I have to reach them.

I eye my prize behind his back a few feet up the bank still draped over the top of a bush. I move closer keeping my knees bent so just my chin is out of the water while Daryl watches me one eyebrow moving north. "You gonna come out of there or you wanna try fishing with your bare hands?"

"That's a thing too isn't it? Or it was… has some ridiculous name…" Daryl stares at me for a long moment. Clearly aware I'm stalling. "Somehow the idea of sticking my bare hand in some dark hole searching for a catfish to bite the crap out of me doesn't appeal."

My luck I'd find a gator or a snake instead.

He grins waving his hand in open invitation for me to get out of the water. "It's a dumbass way to fish, now get out." His eyes darken, " 'less you worried I might bite…" Challenge issued. And damn if that doesn't make my insides go all weightless, desire twists and zips right through me with a ridiculous little flip.

I get out. A little surprised when Daryl doesn't grab me the second I slip by him leaving the water. Problem is I'm soaking wet, and while the thin cotton dress I found earlier is dry it won't be for long if I put it on right now. "Guess I'm drip drying." I mutter snatching it up off the bush and moving towards the fire.

Daryl grins eyes sliding over my skin as he moves past me holding the top line out of the way so I can slip more easily into camp. "My nights get'n better an' better..." He announces as he follows me into camp the spoons tinkling behind us as he lets the line drop back into place.

Daryl grabs the dress pulling it from my fingers. I let it go slowly; feel the soft material slip through my grasp. I shiver feeling it slip from my grasp gooseflesh breaking out over my skin as I let go. Another very noticeable reaction to his gaze drawing his eye. I cross my arms over my chest blushing furiously suddenly irrationally self-conscious.

"Cold?" his voice has gone all low and gravely lips twisting slightly with his teasing. He tosses my previously discarded clothes over the top line to our right with perfect aim. The twine sags with the added weight the spoons sliding together towards the new low point clinking against each other discordantly.

"Maybe. You offering to warm me up?" He moves towards me and my breath catches. Which is ridiculous—after all this time I shouldn't still feel my cheeks flush and my stomach summersault when his eyes move over me; especially after this morning.

Though maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe I can't catch my breath because he's got that same dark predatory glint is in his eyes—the one that made my stomach drop and flutter nervously and my pulse race just a few hours ago. Knowing I put it there again makes me feel powerful and oddly shy at the same time.

Daryl's hands skirt up my arms rubbing over my skin; the friction from his warm calloused palms barely holding a candle to the heat burning just under my skin, spreading deeper spiraling and twirling through my middle making me shiver at the wild contrast.

"Don't want you cold." He sounds sincere but his gaze…those luminescent steel grey and sky blue orbs pin me with a look that's sinfully wicked. He drops his hands after another moment moving away from me telling me to "Hold on." I watch him pull his now wet shirt over his head tossing it next to mine over the line before bending down to pull the thin throw blanket we took with us this morning from the pack. He lays it out near the fire pit—but not close enough to worry it'll burn. Then he grabs my hand again pulling me towards the fire telling me to sit, which throws me off a little bit because while I was a little cool with the cool lake water still beaded on my skin this isn't where I thought this night was going.

I try to ignore the little niggling flash of disappointment sliding through me. "Daryl wha—"

"Just sit down," he tells me already bending over to dig something else out of his pack. I sit shiver not from the cold but from the sudden contrast of the heat wafting over me from the nearby flames. Grateful as I wait that he had the presence of mind to set the blanket so that the smoke lifting off the pit is pulled in the opposite direction. The cool tickle of air moving over my bare back a wild contrast to the warmth soaking into my cool damp skin, flushing my cheeks and shoulders pink with the heat in a few minutes.

I watch him lean away from his pack two cans apparently what he was seeking. He takes a few moments opening them with the simple can opener we stole—much safer and faster than using a knife to perform the same act. God knows I've almost cut the shit out of myself doing that on more than one occasion.

He straightens back up fixing me with another wicked look. "Hungry?" It would be an innocent question without that look.

I swallow watching him move closer tensing slightly when he sits behind me setting the cans down next to us keeping the label suspiciously turned away from my inquisitive eyes.

I exhale stomach twisting in anticipation and nervous jitters feeling him sit down on the blanket behind me, scooting closer so his legs sit on either side of me. Daryl's arm slides around my waist pulling me closer so I can lean into his warm bare chest. I hear the metallic click of a can lid next to us.

"What are yo—" my question strangles off in a surprised breathless moan with his mouth suddenly enveloping the slope of my throat. I moan again, leaning into the feel of his mouth moving up over my neck from my collarbone to just below my ear. Teeth wore the sensitive skin making my eyes slip shut lost in the feel of him slowly devouring my skin. I gasp, startled when I feel something cold and wet touch my arm—feel it trail over my shoulder across my clavicle under Daryl's fingertips to lie in the dip where shoulder meets neck.

I open my eyes fingers reaching up to see what the hell is touching me when he stops my hand; captures my fingers with his pulling my arm down trapping it against my waist in his hold so his mouth can follow the same pattern unopposed. The warm press of his lips makes me tremble, the hot swirl of tongue following the trail previously outlined; nipping and slowly sucking quickly overheating skin briefly into his mouth releasing me again just before he's in danger of leaving permanent marks, pausing to trace invisible lines between the few freckles marking my flesh right at the edge of my scars.

He raises one hand, slowly sliding his thumb over the marks his breath sweet and hot against the back of my neck tickling down my spine with his nearness. Then he dips his mouth to my skin again lips closing over my neck sucking the intriguing object mystery object from my skin, tongue darting back out after a moment to taste the same spot while I squirm and struggle not to react especially after I feel a single cool drip sliding down my back. I shiver hard unable to stop myself feeling his tongue trace after it.

"Daryl…what…?" His fingers grip my chin, twist me back towards him my eyes slip shut in reflex the moment his lips slide over mine. His arm pulls me back lifts me up with a second arm wrapping around me while he shifts behind me—beneath me as I'm pulled into his lap. The cold material of his pants still wet from just above the knee down makes me gasp in surprise, shocked by the sudden contrast of cold wet material and the heat of his skin on mine. His tongue slips over mine twisting possessively before retreating he tastes hot and syrupy citrus sweet like… "Oranges?" I guess.

"Were in the pantry, haven't had 'em in years." He turns his head away from me; careful not to knock the can over retrieving another piece of fruit. This one he presses to my lips.

It's a little too soft and candy sweet on my tongue coated in some sugary sweet syrup to preserve its flavor. I lick my bottom lip tracing the sweetness left there before snatching his wrist, pulling his fingers back to my mouth while he watches me eyes dark. I take my time teasing him as much as chasing the clear drops of juice dripping down his skin. Daryl's breath picks up behind me, what sounds suspiciously like a moan held back when his mouth works its way up my neck again as I pull two fingers into my mouth twirling my tongue over his fingertips.

I twist my neck, tilting my chin sighing at the delicious friction of facial hair, just long enough to have turned softer tickling instead of scratching along my skin. He stops again arm moving to grab more fruit. "You're going to make me all sticky," I protest softly.

His tongue follows the sweet line he just drew across my skin. "Want me to quit?" I shudder with the electric currents tingling through my belly—branching out to dance along my limbs flexing my fingers over his arms and curling my toes with pleasure.

"God, no…" I gasp damn near breathless when he's scarcely touched more than my neck…

"Lie down." Nervous butterflies wing through my insides and my pulse flutters wondering what he has in mind. His voice is rough, thick with lust when it brushes my ear curls against my skin like a physical caress. His fingertips sweeping a few loose strands of my hair aside so he can nibble his way up my neck, pausing to trace the tip of his tongue over the shell of my ear while I shiver. "Trust me."

I shiver again and move off his lap, careful to avoid the open can by his side lying down on my back while he shifts beside me the firelight illuminating his eyes turning them a brilliant and roguish blue.

He leans over me, arm crossing my waist to set the open can in a new spot so he can reach it easier. I feel myself dragging my teeth over my lower lip, insides twisting with a nervous rush of desire laid out like this as silly as that is.

And then a moment later I forget to care because his mouth is back, sealing over one breast drawing pebbled hypersensitive flesh into his mouth with gentle suction. I moan fingers tangling in his hair feeling teeth scrap lightly over my skin and then his tongue flick across me in a maddening rhythmic assault that rushes straight to my center. Pleasure zips right up my spine to spiral through my chest making my muscles jump and twitch and my pulse rocket out of control humming in my veins.

He slips lower, fingertips tracing a sweet line of sticky fruit over my abdomen. I buck and twist up from the blanket groaning when his tongue dips into my navel, curling under the candied fruit he left sitting there pulling it into his mouth. He swallows it quickly before returning to taste the sweetness left flavoring my skin, circling the shallow dip tasting the drops there with a silky hot caress that has my abdomen jumping nervously, deliciously while I twist the soft blanket in my hands fighting to control my ragged breath. He draws back just enough so his exhaled breath is a torturous warm caress over my skin as he moves slowly lower; not touching now….except for the exhaled caresses of breath moving over heated skin.

I have to bite my lip to keep from gasping his name; begging him to touch me again but he doesn't…driving me completely mad. I arch under him. Eyes clenched tight, every nerve ending in my body spiraling down to a single focus; to the rush of heat in my veins and the fluttering want and desperate need pounding through my center with every heartbeat. I wait; barely breathing with the ache centered in my chest the desire to feel that sweet intense heat against my core driving me towards release too much to focus on anything else.

I twist my fingers through his hair hips thrust blindly, shamelessly towards him while a sound that might have been a whimper drags from me when his breath drifts lower; centered now in just the right spot to fix the intense need pour through my belly drowning out everything else. Intensifying further with every second I'm denied.

He's so close his next exhale slides over sensitive skin, brushing across my nerves like invisible fingertips; whisper soft and this time it's definitely a whimper that escapes my throat followed by a breathless plea and a quaking inhale that catches halfway down my throat when his fingertips locking over my hips. He's holding me in place while his tongue flicks out drawing over me in one single bone melting, mind-numbing swath of molten heat that melts my nerves with a wet rush of sensation a thousand times hotter than the fire already radiating from my delicate skin.

I gasp, choking back a heavenly moan the ending syllables suspiciously like his name. My hands clench over the soft velour blanket beneath my hips when he does it again. My whole body jerking; rolling towards the sensation. His breath moves lower graces one thigh; teeth marking me there while my muscle jumps beneath the unexpected assault the heat clenching in my center in response making me moan and thrash under his touch begging blatantly for more.

I feel him move, one arm reaching out to our right and I tremble, head tilted back to stare mindlessly up at the scattered stars overhead pulse racing, heart leaping in my chest knowing what he's going to do even before I feel the cool touch of sweet fruit against my skin. I stare skyward feeling him trace across my skin painting me; jumping uncontrollably under his touch. One hand grips me, tilts me drawing one leg over his shoulder, pressing my other leg out baring me while I tremble and shake under his tongue now moving back up my thigh following the sweet juicy path the fruit left in its wake.

His fingertips stop between my hips; low enough that if I were wearing panties he would be beneath them…but not low enough. God, just shy of where I ache. I groan in frustration grit my teeth denied again as his mouth moves with agonizing slowness after the fruit before moving north capturing it between his lips, licking the sticky sweet remnants from smooth flushed skin. I sigh and groan in frustration, press my hands over my eyes ready to scream.

And then finally. Finally. He slides lower and There. God yes. Right There. I arch and plead, gasping for air feeling the rough stubble marking his jawline dragging against already tingling skin as he moves against me. His tongue lathing over me, parting me while he groans against my skin, my name exhaled barely audible against my thigh and then he's diving into me, spearing me with that amazing tongue enveloping me in so much perfect fucking heat I can't think, can't breathe…can't… SweetJesus…

I arch, grinding into so much delicious friction I'm certain I've died and gone to heaven. Liquescent pleasure sweeps up through my belly overwhelming me, spiraling out white hot and expanding through every nerve ending from my core. It floods my senses turning them liquid gold and fuzzy. I buck and writhe under his hands now pinning me in place while his thumb replaces his tongue brushing over my folds, finding the perfect spot. The spot. And oh God.

Pleasure white hot and intense slams into me all over again. I gasp and clench, twist in his grasp watching the stars spiral and buck over our heads in a dizzying fireworks display that paints the sky a mirage of incredible colors while my vision tapers and I. . . can't. . . Dear God it's too much…

I come to gasping and shaking from head to toe. Limbs weak and trembling with Daryl pressed tight against my side, gently smoothing back my hair from my damp forehead. I don't know how much time has passed; there's nothing but a gentle thrumming under my skin. The still fluttering remnants of release skittering just under my belly jumping in perfect time with my thundering pulse. I lick suddenly dry lips staring up at way less stars overhead then I remember being there just moments before…though I seem to remember them dancing in a way that's strictly impossible so perhaps I'm not the most reliable source at the moment.

"Did I…" I swallow shifting my gaze to his; blinking up at him blankly trying to come up with another plausible explanation because what I've arrived at is preposterous. "Did I just pass out?"

"Pretty sure…" He tone is smug, but his fingers are careful tracing over my cheek; brushing back through my hair.

"Damn." I try to slow my breathing, wait for my heart to calm its frantic beat behind my ribs drifting softly in the pleasure saturated haze still draped across every inch of skin like smooth silk. "Show off."

Daryl grins against my skin, lips parting to taste the dip of my neck once more while I turn my head sighing under the heat of his touch. "You alright?" His voice is rough, thick with unfulfilled desire; it makes my pulse jump and my body flutter. My thighs clench around the powerful rush of need my body is somehow still capable of responding with even when I'm not sure I can think straight enough to remember how to breath.

I tangle my fingers in his hair pulling his mouth to mine running my tongue along his lower lip tasting myself and sweet citrusy orange flavored syrup. I nod slowly letting my fingers drift from his hair down his neck, trace down the muscles and warm skin over his spine.

"I'm fantastic; if I pass out again just take it as the highest form of compliment…"

"Never made you do that 'fore," he's eying me closely; fingers trailing gently down the side of my cheek. "Sure you're alright?"

I breathe his name against his lips nodding before dragging his mouth down against mine. Take my time kissing him slowly at first; tasting every delicious hint of sweet nectar and fruit still lingering on his tongue before twisting, pushing him back against the blanket so I can slide my hands down his sides, and plunge my tongue deeper into his mouth. My touch becoming more incessant; more demanding and hungry. I work my hands down his bare chest, over his abdomen pulling at his belt buckle working it loose and sliding the clasp free before slipping my hand inside. I break the kiss to press my lips to the hollow of his throat while he groans—a tight desperate sound my body likes very much.

His fingers tighten against my back. The palm that only a brief moment ago was cupping the back of my head keeping my lips sealed to his shifts until his fingers are gently twisted in the ever loosening strands of my hair. His grip anchoring me to him in the growing darkness; grounding him to reality while I move over him. I slip lower tasting and licking, teasing with teeth and lips and tongue. He moans my name voice low and tight, strained; his body twitching and jumping under each caress his neck arching, head falling back to gasp my name through clenched teeth when I wrap my hand around him, slide my palm down his length in one slow exploratory glide.

I drag my other hand down his chest pausing to skim my fingertips over one nipple while he hisses in response. I don't wait for him to acclimate to the sensation, moving lower fingernails briefly sliding through the dark thin treasure trail barely visible below his navel. His abdomen twitches; the muscles jumping in reaction under my hand as I move lower. His stomach tightens to searing hot marble beneath my hands, the lines of his body the sculpture of perfection. I slide lower, my breath caressing the same skin my fingertips just transversed while he groans head falling back knowing what I'm going to do next.

His already impressive cock hardens further under my hand leaping under my palm in response to my next exhale brushing over sensitive skin. I can't fight the grin that tugs at the corners of my lips, shifting into a predatory smile against his skin that has him cursing when he lifts his head and catches sight of it. I remove my hand from his length tugging at his jeans still trapped against his hips working them down over his thighs with his help sitting up to tug them down his legs pausing patiently while he kicks them free before returning my attention to his obvious need.

He leaps in my hands, his own fingers threatening to crush my bones where his grip is locked against my shoulders, hands shaking. His breath tears from between clenched teeth sounding very much like a whimpered sob when my tongue traces over his length in a mirroring teasing slowness of his earlier assault. I repeat the action while he tenses going very still beneath me. I slide my palms down both sides of his heavy length positioning him so when I part my lips I'm breathing over him teasingly. Hearing him hiss, feeling his thighs flex and twitch beneath my body where I've straddled him pinning him down empowering.

I take him in a moment later closing my lips around his head working him in slow exaggerated strokes leading with both hands closed around his length gently squeezing before withdrawing almost completely and applying the swirl of my tongue and suction to his sensitive tip. He tastes salty and male; the perfect intoxicating combination on my tongue after the sweet fruit.

Daryl's shoulders roll off the ground he curses groaning when I repeat the motion again. His next breath a desperate inhale of my name robbing the syllables of the majority of their sound, he exhales the same way reverently like a prayer. His finger's closing painfully tight over my skin, yanking me up away from my ever present addiction. I mumble in protest but he ignores my words, and I forget them a second later when he drags me up his chest to lay over him straddling his waist so his head is posed perfectly against my slick folds.

I bite my lip every muscle in my core spasming in expectation while I use my grip on his shaft to slide his thick tip against my gathered heat torturously slow; teasing us both damn near the brink of insanity.

His fingertips encircle my hips holding me still unable to move towards him while he presses into me; parting me with burning divinely perfect torture. I thrash, back arching into empty air. Trapped in his hold, posed over him gasping helplessly, every nerve ending in my over taxed body sending out white hot sparks of bone melting pleasure in response to his touch. All if them centered around the slow heavenly burn where he's pressing into me too slow, inch by mind falteringly possessive inch.

"Daryl…please," I press back towards him in desperation, fighting his grasp. I can't take it anymore, the slow burn driving me mad.

It's too much; and not enough. It's wicked torture and divine perfection all at once. His grip tightens over my hips, holding me captive despite my protest. His tight bruising grip keeping me still while he exhales my name sliding against me maddeningly before pulling away again ignoring my groan and hissed protest, he lifts me until he's barely touching me at all leaving me more desperate and empty then I felt seconds before. And that's it he must be trying to drive me insane.

I twist, lean over him palms pressed to his chest whole body trembling…empty and wanting. "Daryl, please…" I don't care that I'm begging. All I can focus on is the pounding need burning under my skin, the push to release clawing through every vein, searing along my limbs; boiling my blood.

Daryl's whole body shudder's tortured by the same intense mind-bending need. I gasp and claw at him trying futilely to bring him closer. "What are you waiting for?"

He doesn't have an answer for that other than to flip us; rolling so that I'm beneath him finally. His perfect distracting weight pressing against my skin. Daryl shifts over me fingers grasping my leg just below the knee hiking it higher over his lower back with my help, one of his hands braced next to my shoulder pinning me between his arms; like I might escape; I grasp at his shoulders fingers pressing tight against his skin not wanting to be anywhere else ever again. I struggle to catch my breath, too many sensations fluttering through over-stimulated nerves; tingling swirls of anticipation siting low tensing and quivering up my spine in distracting little electric pulses.

Little sparks break off from the heat searing my core, spiraling out through my limbs making me feel liquid and heavy. My skin flushes, pulse races in my chest and lower pushing tendrils of fire through every limb 'til I'm burning so bright I don't know how my fingertips trailing down his chest; following the fascinating line of muscle against his spine don't sear and burn—branding my mark against his skin.

The back of my fingertips trace down the hard planes of his face, follow the line of his jaw. He stares down at me eyes luminesce filled with fascinating bright washes of color and shifting shadows in the firelight. They slip closed when my thumb slides over his bottom lip tracing its edge slowly as he presses into me with antagonizing slowness once more.

I tighten my leg over his back, roll my hips towards him in blatant invitation; begging him wordlessly to move over me; in me. His name and Gods and a tangled half spoken frantic plea tumbling from my lips as he moves over me. He slides against me hot skin on skin teasing friction rushing through my nerves zipping through my chest with a thrilling zing of pleasure that flashes against my eyelids, tunneling my vision before traveling lower.

He presses forward suddenly changing his angle; seating himself fully inside me, pressed tight against me with the perfect delicious burn of fullness; I'm stretched almost to the point of pain with his embrace. I arch into him gasping, eyes clenched shut feeling him draw back in the same perfect mind-altering fashion before pressing into me again.

The burn remains; mixes with the flash of desire—pure wanton lust skittering out through my belly; spiraling tighter and tighter around his invasion with each thrust until I'm blind to any sensation but need, and lost to any other existence but his.

The world around us fades away. There's no sound but our breathing and my name whispered against the curve of my neck; no light but the reflections caste over his skin and mine in the firelight. He leans further into me, melting his skin against mine while we both burn, breathing my name against my ear, teeth dragging over one sensitive lobe making me writhe and hiss, trembling and shaking even as I'm rising up to meet each slow languid thrust he makes into the pleasure spiraling out from my core threatening to consume us both.

I can't do anything but gasp and cling to him begging him breathlessly "Don't stop—" God if he stops I think I might fall apart, break into a million pieces, split apart atom by atom at the molecular level—the intense need searing up my spine blazing like a wildfire under my skin might actually kill me if it's not sated soon.

But he doesn't stop; thank god. His pace slow and deep and perfectly matched to the rushing white noise in my head the desire ramping higher and tighter with each push of my pulse under superheated skin. I can feel it building low in my belly; his answering groan as my body tightens around him threatening to pull us both under. His movements are languid and smooth -distractingly sinful pushing me steadily towards the edge until he alters his thrust in the next few strokes robbing me of the release I'm desperate for and damn near driving me mad all over again.

His strokes change without warning becoming fast and almost harsh; his body lashing against me, driving deep enough to clench against my womb robbing me of breath before slowing again. The now luxurious rhythm, achingly tender and sweet leaving me gasping and shaking, my fingers digging into his skin fighting for control unable to anticipate what's coming next. Just when I'm sure I know his new tempo; feel my body adjust to the new pace ready to match his movements he changes again; slows torturously leaving me thrashing and cursing him as the edge slips from my grasp once more just before I was there… He leaves me writhing and panting in desperation beneath him for a few strokes before speeding up again; hips moving in short stilted jerks just barely penetrating my heat while I clench and spasm tightening helplessly around his loss before he thrust deep again so far he's got to be in the back of my throat—that must be the reason I suddenly can't seem to breath.

His movements bringing the burn back tenfold leaving me writhing and begging hands clenched mindlessly in the dirt where the blanket has twisted away from my greedy fingers and frantic movements.

His name becomes a litany; a breathless prayer floating in the darkness winding its way up to tangle over our heads in the stars. The same stars that seem to be swirling against my vision again; twirling impossibly bright and hot even when I close my eyes.

I slide my fingers through his hair, press my lips to his neck tongue flicking out tasting the salt on his skin between whispered breathless words against heated skin. I'm still breathing his name like a sacred prayer when I feel him shudder against me, throb where he's buried inside me. My arms wind their way around his back fingernails tracing down his skin following the outline of every flexing tensing fascinating muscle there before trailing back up his spine. My fingernails scratching ever so softly over his skin with the return trip drawing a hissed breath from his lips at the sensation while he bucks and shudders in response breathing harsh and fast against the crook of my neck where his face is pressed.

I wrap my arms around his neck feel my spine bow off the ground, shifting us both as every muscle in my frame tightens, shaking and trembling focused on the pleasure spiraling uncontrollably through every nerve I own. I gasp his name while he groans in answer my eyes clenched tight feeling every inch of hot skin sliding against me; branding me as his.

Daryl's lips pressed to my skin, delicate sweet words breathed barely audible on a sigh against my neck. Desire jolts down my spine at his claim making me seize, flutter impossibly tighter around him. He hisses in reaction tempo faltering; his pace quickening in an erratic rhythm that's tells me he's close to letting go, neither of us can hold out much longer.

I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, drag my teeth over sensitive skin already flushed and swollen from his kisses trying not to cry out as I lose control. I'm already tumbling over the edge, shattering around these final deep thrusts taking him all the way to the hilt. Every press of his hips buries his ever present need inside me impossibly far; his body filling me almost to the point of breaking even with my inner walls closing harder spasming and locking around each press of flesh into my spiraling heat.

I gasp and arch beneath him one last time while stars burst behind my eyes and seem to brush against my skin feeling him swell impossibly hard and tight inside me. My control and his lost against the friction of such a tight embrace. It's too much to bare, I choke with it; breath catching in the back of my throat unable to reach my lungs while my vision darkens at the edges and flashes with heat and little spots of red. I'm suddenly dragging my nails down his spine, nipping teeth over his shoulder. Daryl's reaction is instantaneous and damn near violent rolling his hips in several more frantic thrusts that even in the midst of release already, is too much. The feel of him losing control, the growl of my name pressed against my lips has me shuddering and quaking all over again fighting just to breathe. My walls tightening over him so intensely he barely fits. Daryl's desperate moan against my shoulder sweeps over my skin like a physical caress. My muscles seize his cock in a pulsing irresistible velvet fist of need robbing him of the last vestiges of his control sending us both over the edge.

I gasp, trembling and clinging to his neck lost in the sensations rocketing up my spine twirling and clenching my folds pulling him deeper, faster desperate for more. My whole body possessed; rolling with intense unstoppable wave after powerful wave while he shudders and slides against me going rigid muscles locking crying out wordlessly as it overtakes him.

I sigh against his skin pull him closer feeling the heat from his release filling me, spilling out of me when it becomes too much. Daryl's last few thrusts chase the still electric currents of pleasure pushing through my belly; keep the soft trembling waves of heat tickling along my skin, prolonging my pleasure with little flutters of spiraling lust while I close my eyes and press my face to exertion warmed skin breathing him in.

We lay like that, pressed tight skin to skin for a long time trying to slow our racing hearts, hear something past the pleasure buzzing in my ears thundering alongside my racing pulse. Slowly my muscles come back under my control, twitching and spasming with little aftershocks of pleasure while I sigh against his skin. I let my fingers trace abstract patterns and whirls into his back soothing the muscles under his skin with more pressing touches feeling him voice approval in a soft groan against my neck, his breath warm tickling over my skin followed by the press of his lips. When he pulls back from me leaning away I'm still not ready to let him go even if my legs are starting to protest our position.

Daryl moves to my side, not losing contact with my skin; pressed flush against me before reaching over me to the can we miraculously managed not to tip over with our physical activities. I watch him retrieving a slice orange from the can, his fingertips and the small wedge dripping sticky sweet juice over my skin when he raises the fruit to my lips. I feel my cheeks flush taking the morsel from his grasp, my eyes watching him raise his sticky sweet fingers to his own lips sucking first his thumb and then forefinger into his mouth. I shake my head in exasperation at him when he slaps my hand away from the can's mouth when I reach for fruit myself.

"This would go faster if you let me feed myself." I chastise.

"Hell is the fun in that? Might start doing this daily."

I'm pretty sure he's kidding. We'd never get anything done. I snort at the sudden flash of Rick and Maggie's expressions if Daryl decided to feed me by hand during meals. Dear god it might be worth it just to watch Glenn choke on his cornbread. He's looking at me when I glance up, expression curious.

"You start feeding me by hand and Rick will kick us out of public mealtimes." God knows he'd threatened to do something similar last winter when he walked into the library looking for Daryl at the wrong moment. I feel my cheeks flush with the memory. He took off grumbling about arresting us and Glenn and Maggie for lewd acts in public places. I thought Daryl was going to have a heart attack the way he flushed bright red for days anytime Rick looked at us.

Which Rick handled like anyone would expect a teasing big brother to do; going out of his way to bring it up until Daryl about lost it a week later both of them tussling around like overgrown high school boys. Rick's police training and the moves I'd already taught Daryl keeping them evenly matched for about five minutes until they both ended up on the floor with Carol yelling at them she was going to get the hose.

Daryl's lips purse into a fine line, maybe thinking the same thing. "He'll get over it." He informs me feeding me another fruit wedge. He holds another wedge out to me pulling it back at the last second voice teasing, "Aren't I supposed to feed my wife on our wedding night?"

All the air rushes out of my lungs in a fluttering sigh. Little pinpricks travel down my spine prickling against the skin of my neck, flushing my cheeks. I lick my lips slowly tasting sweet citrus tang searching for the something to say to that, my brain stumbling over the words. I wasn't completely sure he was being serious before, the idea of being Daryl's wife makes my chest feel too tight, heat blooms up my spine threatening to bring tears to my eyes. I blink furiously a few times chasing them away and drawing in a steadying breath. "I think it's supposed to be cake," I tell him finally before grabbing his wrist and pulling his fingers and the orange slice back to my lips.

He shrugs one shoulder grabbing a bite to eat himself. Daryl's lips quirking when he catches my expression. "That a problem?"

I reach for the can slapping his hand away when he moves to stop me again. I grab an orange slice raise it to his lips while he watches me, eyes dark like the ocean after a storm in the low embers of firelight. I glide the fruit over his lower lip tracing it's fullness before feeding it to him. He's takes a moment to chew the soft piece and swallow it before I push up onto my elbow, looping sticky fingers against the back of his neck and pressing my lips to his, drawing my tongue over the same sweet skin while his fingers tangle in my hair, his thumb gliding in slow soothing circles against the back of my neck making me shiver.

"I'm married to a sex god, who's complaining?" Not this girl.

:: Walking Dead ::