A.N:Quick update for this one - just a simple little moment between our favourite pairing.


Daryl Dixon rarely got what he wanted, at least when it came to his own personal happiness, he now expected nothing else. Generally his response to such disappointments was to convince himself that he had never really wanted what he couldn't have, sometimes it even worked and he was able to believe it. To have exactly what he wanted was a pleasant change and he was still coming to terms with his good fortune.

Carol was, as he had long suspected, exactly the kind of woman he needed. Going to sleep at her side each night and waking each morning with her body in the circle of his arms was gradually chipping away at the pasts hold on him and making him into the man he wanted to be. She was saving him, whether he wanted her to or not, with each and every glance of those impossibly kind eyes she made him a better man.

He woke that morning to see the first rays of a spectacular sunrise painting the walls of their cell in shades of amber. Carol slept tight against him, peaceful and undisturbed, the warm skin of her bare back against his chest. Her steady breathing soothed his nerves like a lullaby and for a long moment he did nothing but watch her. He loved to wake up with her tangled up in his limbs, his face buried in the crook of her neck, or in reverse her face pressed into his own. Sometimes he thought that he could have watched her for hours, just sleeping, so quiet, and still not been able to comprehend that he wasn't dreaming.

If any of the others realised that their cell sharing arrangement had translated to an arrangement whereby they shared a bunk, none of them had passed comment on it, which only proved that they had half a brain. Their relationship was not a matter for public consumption and he had no desire to discuss it with any of the others, the only person whose opinion mattered to him was the only one who had no doubt about how he felt about her. As long as Carol knew the truth that was all that mattered.

Slipping his arm out from under her, he resettled her on the pillow and climbed out of bed, bracing himself against the chill, early morning air. She stirred, eyes half opening as she registered that his presence was no longer at her back, watching him as he pulled on his clothing. The sight of her curled up in his bed did nothing for his desire to find food for the group.

"Hey," she murmured sleepily, rubbing her eyes, "good morning."

"Heading out," he explained, turning away to grab a shirt from the pile that sat on top of the second bunk. It was a sign of trust that he turned his back to her now without feeling self-conscious about the scars that marred his skin. There wasn't a scar on his body that she hadn't seen, wasn't a scar on hers that he hadn't learnt the story of.

"Do you have to go right now?" she asked, stretching beneath the blanket, "kinda cold in here without you ..."

Daryl cursed inwardly. Damn woman, less than three weeks in his bed and she already knew just how to push his buttons. Unable to think of a suitable response that didn't involve crawling back into bed and finding an imaginative way to raise her body temperature, he gathered the rest of his stuff together. "People gotta eat," he chuckled, appreciating the effort and mildly disappointed that he couldn't take her up on the offer, "you should stay here, get a couple more hours."

It wasn't just that he liked the idea of leaving her in bed in the morning or that he was heading out at first light that made him suggest she sleep a while longer, Carol had a tendency to push herself too hard in her attempts to do what needed to be done. Between the early morning breakfast duties and the their recent nightly activities, she was getting dark circles beneath her eyes again.

"Might just do that," she replied, "might even still be here when you get back."

At that he smiled, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. "Got all the answers don't ya?"

Leaning down he planted a searing kiss on her mouth, enjoying the way she curled her body up to meet him and the feel of skin against his. He tucked her back under the covers and instructed her to sleep a while longer before strapping the buck knife to his belt and pulling on his boots. She was already half asleep by the time he made it to the door.

As he pulled back their privacy curtain to leave, her voice carried softly to him across the space. "Be safe," she told him.

Slinging his bow over his shoulder he gave her the only words that came to mind as he stepped out of the door and into the main cell block. "Don't worry Woman, ain't gettin' rid of me yet," he reassured her.