Sorry I'm a slow bunny. First I got stuck, then I got sick. And then I couldn't sleep, so here I am posting this at three in the morning.
I still don't own any of this Walking Dead stuff.
The next morning, Carol awoke feeling much more optimistic. She checked in on Hershel first thing – his leg looked good, no signs of fever, and he seemed in good spirits. She suspected the Vicodin Lori had given him an hour ago was more than partially responsible for his mood, but all the better. It would be a while before he was up and about, so she was glad he was getting what cheer he could.
Lori also seemed to be doing as well as an extremely pregnant woman could. She'd felt the baby moving again during the early hours and was relieved to the point of tears. She would no doubt be going into labor soon, and now, finally, they had a place to rest and be safe until the birth.
Today the group planned to start cleaning up the prison yard and their cell block. Since they were planning to stay, they needed to make the place not just safe, but livable. Bodies needed to be removed, and blood, brains, and debris needed to be cleared. The place was truly disgusting, and the longer Carol was there, the more anxious she was to be free of the gore, the filth, and the stink of death.
Everyone got to work. Lori puttered around the cells, tidying up, but mostly keeping an eye on Hershel. Maggie, Glenn, Rick, and T-Dog were gathering up bodies from the cleared area of the prison and courtyard, piling them on the far side of the yard to eventually be loaded on the pickup and taken away for burning. Daryl was still on watch, as far as she knew, either in one of the towers or walking the dog run. Beth and Carl were on the upper level of cells, arguing over who had to scrub brains off the cell walls and who had to scrub the guts off the floor. They were kind of cute, actually, if you could ignore their horrifying surroundings. Carl clearly had a crush on Beth, but she wasn't sure Beth even noticed.
Carol left to finish clearing debris from the common area. After the last of the junk was tossed into a big tub pilfered from the laundry room, she set to work getting the floors not just cleared, but actually clean. She wanted the group to have a place to gather for meals that was actually nice to be in. Along with the big tub, they'd found masses of janitorial supplies in a small room off the laundry area, including brooms, mops, bleach, buckets, scrub brushes, and anything else they could possibly need for cleaning - there were even plenty of gloves for everyone. She'd been especially happy about the gloves since today's work was so gruesome. They were a little big for her narrow hands, but it was better that than being wrist deep in blood and brains all day.
After moving the tables into the hallway, she did a cursory sweeping of the floor, then spent a good amount of time scraping up the worst of the mess. She tried not to think too much about what she was scraping up. Finally, the gunk was gone and all that was left was the hard work – scrubbing the stains out of the floor.
She snagged another bucket of water and added a good splash of bleach. With a towel cushioning her knees, she started at one corner, working on all fours, scrubbing the hell out of that floor.
It felt oddly good. Despite the fact she was washing away the end of someone's life, it felt strangely comforting to do something so...normal. It had comforted her when Sophia was missing – gave her something to do besides fret. And before the world had gone to hell, she'd always been able to relax into her work, letting her mind wander and letting her worries go.
She was humming to herself as she worked, when she heard the scuff of boots behind her. Peering over her shoulder, she saw Daryl had come in from watch. He had stopped in the doorway looking a little startled. He was staring right at her ass. She quirked an eyebrow. Never pass up an opportunity for merciless teasing!
"Like what you see, Dixon?" She waggled her butt and grinned wickedly.
He flushed a little, and his eyes dropped immediately to his shoes. God, she loved teasing him. He was just so damn cute when he was embarrassed! But then he squinted up at her again. Tipping his head to one side, he continued to scrutinize her behind. She watched him over her shoulder, beginning to feel a little awkward. He took a few slow steps forward and tipped his head to the other side to examine her from another angle.
It was Carol's turn to blush. She was suddenly extremely self-conscious sitting there on her hands and knees. This was not going how she expected!
She sat abruptly back onto her heels just as he reached a hand out to her. Gripping her elbow, he helped her to her feet, their eyes meeting briefly before his eyes wandered down the length of her, making her shiver under the scrutiny. Then he turned her to face away from him, hands on her shoulders, holding her at arms' length. His hands may as well have been branding irons. She knew she would feel his touch on her skin forever after this.
One of his hands left her shoulder. A finger slipped under the bottom hem of her tank top and pushed the fabric up to the middle of her back, exposing her skin to the cool air in the prison. She gasped and stiffened as his rough finger dragged along her spine from her waistband up until it caught on her bra, sending sparks along every nerve and a wet rush of heat down south. She felt him lean back. Son of a bitch! He was still checking out her ass!
He stepped close then, dropping the hem of her shirt. Even though he only touched her where he held her shoulders, she could feel him behind her, the pressure of him making her skin sing. She sucked in a shuddering breath when his over-long hair tickled her cheek.
"Yes." His voice rumbled softly in her ear.
She couldn't think. Yes? Yes, what? Yes...he likes what he sees? Ohhhh, holy shit.
The rumble in her ear continued. "What did I tell you about asking questions when you aren't prepared for the answer?"
His palms slid down her arms as he stepped away from her. She spun to face him, but he just smirked at her, eyes gleaming as he turned to enter the cell block. Without thinking, she reached out and swatted his butt with her wet, gloved hand. He jumped forward, swinging a hand behind him to brush her away, but she was already gone. He scooted through the doorway, drawling, "Stop!"
She stood staring after him, shaking her head. That man! Another wave of heat flooded her as she thought of his finger sliding up the small of her back. They were getting into dangerous territory. She wasn't sure anymore how much of their mutual teasing was just teasing. She was very certain, however, that if this kept up, she was going to be mighty grumpy until she had some time to herself. She took some consolation in knowing that Daryl was eventually going to have a Carol-sized hand print bleached onto the seat of his pants. She suppressed a smile and wondered how long it would be before anyone told him.
Carol picked up her scrub brush again, and settled to the floor to continue cleaning, though this time she was careful to face the doors.