A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I needed to take a break from writing, give my brain a chance to rest. Plus, y'know, there was a holiday and all. But now I'm back with an all-new chapter! Hope y'all like it.

Disclaimer: Still ain't mine, no way, nohow.

Daryl approached Rick as everyone was in the process of packing the last of their possessions and loading them onto the vehicles. Shane noted this and came over to join them. The three disparate men stood facing each other, Shane with his hands on his hips, Rick and Daryl with their arms loose at their sides, Daryl's posture defensive. The rest of the group noticed the tension between them, but continued what they were doing, watching from the corners of their eyes.

Rick was the first to break the silence. "I'm guessin' you decided to stay," he said to Daryl.

"Yeah," Daryl responded, his tone daring him to protest.

Shane spoke up, "You sure that's a good idea? Leavin' the group when we need everyone who can handle a weapon so you can stay with a buncha kids and a woman you hardly know?"

Daryl glared at him. "Ain't none o' yer business what I do."

"Think you got what it takes t' stick it out with these people?" the former deputy persisted, "These kids ain't gonna be able to handle your shitty attitude like we can. Second you screw up, Lia 'n' Nana are gonna throw you out on your ass. And then were 'll you be?"

Daryl bristled. "You don' know a goddamn thing!"

"Shane-" Rick's voice held a warning edge, which his friend chose to ignore.

"I know you're stayin' here 'cause Lia's the only woman who felt sorry enough for you to let you fuck her."

"Fuck you!" Daryl rushed at him, only to be shoved back when Rick hastily insinuated himself between them.

One arm across the enraged man's chest, Rick pointed an angry finger at Shane. "Take a walk. Right now."

Face set in a disdainful smirk, Shane spat once on the ground, then turned and stalked off without another word. Rick turned to Daryl. He slowly lowered his restraining arm, wary for signs of further aggression. Daryl stayed where he was, though he glowered at Shane's retreating back. "I hate that motherfucker."

"You don't need t' worry about him," Rick said calmly, "He's concerned about the group's safety, just as I am. But this is your decision, and I'll respect it."

Daryl's blue eyes turned to him. He reached into his hip pocket and pulled out a set of keys, passing them over with a faint metallic jingle. Rick examined the keys. "These go t' your truck?"

Daryl nodded. "Don't need it here. I'm keepin' th' bike, though."

"Thank you." Rick tucked the keys in his own pocket, then held his hand out. "And good luck."

Daryl hesitated a second, then shook hands. "You too. I hope ya make it t' Fort Benning."

"I'm more worried about what we'll find once we get there." The thin man sighed and rested his hands on his hips. He surveyed the bustling people for a minute, then turned back to Daryl. "If you change your mind, for whatever reason, you're still welcome to join us. Shouldn't have too much trouble catchin' up if you have to."

Daryl nodded, not quite meeting Rick's eyes. He chewed the inside of his lip as was his habit when impatient or troubled. What Shane had said to him hit a nerve. He found himself starting to doubt Lia's reasons for wanting him to stay. Did she really want him, or was it just pity mixed with the need to have another adult around?

"You're welcome to one of the guns, if you want it," Rick offered, distracting Daryl from his troubled thoughts.

He snorted. "Yer always givin' out weapons. Keep that up 'n' you won't have any left."

Rick shrugged. "Seems only fair, after all the fighting you've done for us."

Daryl shook his head. "Don't need a gun. Crossbow's a-nuff."

"Alright then." Rick nodded.

Soon came the farewells, many quite tearful. Carl and Sophia were especially saddened to be leaving their new friends behind. Toys and small mementos were exchanged, hugs were given. Nana Shino embraced everyone in the departing group. She and Dale smiled in sad affection and kissed each other on the cheek. They had developed a strong friendship over the weeks, the sort of friendship that only seemed possible between men and women of advanced age, making no demands and accepting whatever the other was willing to share. They would miss their long talks.

Nana turned to address everyone in he group. "If your journey to Fort Benning doesn't pan out, you are all more than welcome to return here."

"Thank you," Rick smiled, though whether he might consider this offer was difficult to say.

Lia, too, hugged each person in turn. She would miss them all, for various reasons. She would miss Lori's strong opinions and her fierce loyalty to her family. She would miss Andrea for her growing confidence and will to survive despite all that'd happened to her. She would miss sweet-natured Carol, and Dale with his quiet dignity. She would miss T-Dog for his natural joviality, matched only by his strong sense of ethics. Glenn, for his ingenuity and humor. Shane, for his protectiveness and loyalty, in spite of his occasional dour moments. Rick, for his unswerving integrity. And she would miss Sophia and Carl, whose innocence managed to remain largely untarnished, and who'd managed to fit in so well with the other children.

It made her all the more grateful that Daryl had chosen to stay. She saw him standing a short distance from the milling crowd of well-wishers and departing group members. He looked torn. While he'd never felt truly accepted by Rick's group, he was still reluctant to just walk away without seeing them all off. Lia broke away from the group and went to him. "Having second thoughts?" she asked gently.

Daryl looked at her, slowly shook his head. "You?"

"Of course not." She took his hand. A faint smile tugged at Daryl's mouth and he gave her hand a squeeze.

Rick and his people began to climb into the vehicles. Daryl was a little surprised to see Glenn was the one who'd be driving his old pickup. The young Asian met his gaze and offered a slight smile and a nod. Daryl nodded back. He and Lia stood together watching the procession of vehicles pull out onto the road and gradually vanish into the distance. He was surprised to feel a tug in his chest when the final truck disappeared from sight. No matter what Grimes had said about changing his mind and catching up, Daryl knew that part of his life was over. For better or worse.

Nightfall. The littler kids went to bed while the older ones finished their chores, readied themselves for nighttime lookout duty, or passed the time in the lobby. The mood was subdued, the sadness of the group's departure still fresh. It would be several days before their spirits lifted.

Lia carried a bucket of heated water from the kitchen and took it upstairs to the second floor restroom. She hung the "Knock Before Entering" sign on the doorknob and let the door swing shut behind her. Inside the restroom, the items she'd brought in earlier sat on the counter by the sinks or leaned against the wall, waiting for her. Lia plugged one of the sinks and poured half the bucket's steaming contents into the basin, then stripped and proceeded to bathe herself. She undid every one of her braids and washed her raven-colored hair. Loose, it hung well past her shoulders, slightly wavy from its long confinement. When she was done, she drained the sink, plugged it again, and refilled it with the rest of the hot water. She wrapped a towel around herself, then grabbed the folding chair she'd had leaning against the wall and set it up beside her and propped one foot up on the seat. She picked up the nearest item on the counter, a can of shaving cream.

Lia smiled to herself as she went through the familiar motions of shaving her legs. It was unnecessary and frivolous, but she wanted to surprise Daryl. She wanted to do something normal from life before the walkers.

Lia ran the disposable razor over her foam-covered leg, rinsing it off in the sink between swipes. The damp tresses of her hair hung down to either side like curtains, obscuring her profile. When she finished both legs she straightened and admired her handiwork. By some miracle, she'd only nicked herself once on the right shin. She blotted the tiny wound with a square of toilet paper. Clean of blood, it was barely noticeable. Satisfied, Lia turned to drain the sink and let out a startled yelp when the mirror revealed she wasn't alone. She spun around to face Daryl, who grinned at her wide-eyed reaction.

"How long've you been standing there?" she snapped, discomfited by the fact that she hadn't even heard the door open.

Daryl shrugged carelessly. "Awhile." His eyes slowly roved over her towel-clad body. Lia tried to look irritated, but that little flutter in her stomach in reaction to his stare made that all but impossible. Was this what those trashy romance novels referred to as a smoldering look? Because she was definitely feeling the heat rise wherever Daryl's eyes focused. He stepped closer to her until there was only a few inches of space between them. "You do all this for me?" he asked, first touching her long hair, then indicating the shaving accoutrements on the counter with a nod.

Lia turned her eyes upward, as if considering her answer. "Maybe..."

"Maybe?" He placed his hands on her waist and gently backed her against the counter. His lips went to hers, and Lia moaned as his tongue invaded her mouth. Her arms went around his neck. She felt herself lifted and seated on the counter's edge. Her towel was pulled away, leaving her fully naked.

"Somebody might walk in," she protested, though she immediately kissed him again.

"Sign's on th' door," Daryl drew back and slipped his shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor, "Nobody's comin' in."

"You did," Lia said, running her hands over his bare chest.

Daryl undid his pants and slid them down around his ankles. "I ain't always good at followin' rules," he grinned. His hands slid over her freshly shaven legs, admiring their smoothness. He wrapped them around his waist. Lia reached down between them and grasped his throbbing cock, guiding him into her. Daryl's eyelids fluttered as his entire length slowly penetrated her. He and Lia kissed deeply, their bodies moving together. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair.

Lia clung to him, fingers digging into the backs of his shoulders. She kissed her way down the side of his neck and latched onto that spot that made him groan.

"Gonna...give me...another...hickey," he panted.

Lia smiled against his neck. "Then you'll have a matching set on both sides."

Daryl chuckled. He suddenly took hold of her shoulders and pushed her back. Lia placed her hands on the counter behind her and leaned back on her arms. She expected him to give her breasts some attention, but instead his thrusts gradually slowed as he stared into her dark eyes. A small frown creased the space between her eyebrows. There was a sadness in Daryl's gaze that confused her. "What's wrong?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nuthin'." But he wasn't making love to her anymore, and the sadness was still there in his eyes.

Lia's hands reached up to cradle his face. She rested her forehead against his. "Tell me what you're thinking," she whispered.

Daryl closed his eyes, swallowed. "D'you feel sorry for me?"

Lia's body tensed, and he knew he'd made a mistake. Now she would get mad, she'd push him away and yell at him. She'd tell him to get out of her life.

But she didn't do any of those things. Instead, Lia dropped her head to his shoulder and sobbed. Daryl winced guiltily. "Shit, I didn't wanna make ya cry."

"It's okay," she sniffed, "It's just that I'm sad you'd even think that. That you think so little of yourself."

Daryl's throat tightened. His arms tightened around her. "I ain't used t' havin' anything good in my life," he murmured into her hair, "'N' yer the best thing that's ever happened to me. 'S it any wonder I'm..." he swallowed, forcing the word out, "scared?"

"I'm scared, too," Lia whispered against his shoulder, "I'm so scared of losing you."

Daryl didn't belittle her with promises that she'd never lose him. That was not something anyone could realistically promise, especially now. Instead, he told her, "I won't ever leave you on purpose."

Lia lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him on the lips. "And I won't ever love you out of pity."

Now it was Daryl who tensed, startled by her words. "What?"
"You heard me," she smiled, cheeks damp from her tears, "I love you."

No one had said that to him since his mama died. Daryl blinked, his eyes stinging. "How d'you know that for sure?"

She shrugged. "I just do. I know we haven't known each other that long, but maybe all this end-of-the-world stuff's taught me to cut through the bullshit people usually put themselves through before they can admit the truth to themselves. I know what kind of person you are, good and bad, and that's enough for me to know you're the one for me." She laughed self-consciously. "Does that sound corny, or what?"

Daryl placed his hand against her cheek and felt her lean into his touch. "I don't think I c'n say it back," he murmured sadly.

"You don't have to say it," Lia kissed him again, "Just make love to me."

And he did.

Weeks drifted into months. The sweltering summer drew to a close and autumn set in. Lia and the kids made frequent supply runs until they had enough canned and dried goods to (hopefully) last the winter. Daryl started teaching the older kids to hunt in small hunting parties, no more than two or three at a time. Some of them were nervous to be spending so much time with him, but it wasn't long before their wariness faded. Daryl never coddled them, nor did he hesitate to point out their mistakes, of which there were many in the beginning. But he was never unduly harsh, only giving the right amount of criticism to motivate them to do better. And whenever they succeeded in bringing prey down, his terse nods were all the praise they required. When Marco and Lisa managed to bring down a deer, Daryl even smiled and said, "Nice work."

They all had a celebration that evening, feasting on roasted venison. They even saved the bones to make soup with later on. Lia claimed the hide for herself. She'd recently found a survivalist book during one of her scavenging forays that included a section on how to tan leather. It was a skill they would need in the future once clothing started to deteriorate. She just wished there was a less disgusting way of going about it.

The least unpleasant part was at the beginning. Lia soaked the deerskin to soften it, pounded it out with a mallet, laid it out on the ground and staked it in place, then scraped off the bits of meat and fat left on with a knife. Next came the task of removing the hair. Lia flipped the hide over hair-side up, then slipped on a pair of rubber gloves and went to fetch the bucket of urine she'd collected earlier - mostly from herself and Daryl, who found the whole thing ridiculous, but cooperated anyway. Yes, urine. It was the most readily available substance which ancient cultures used in the tanning process. Lia wrinkled her nose as she poured the reeking fluid over the furry side of the still damp skin, rubbing it in with her gloved hands. "Ugh!"

Daryl chuckled. He was seated a short distance from her - upwind, of course - with his elbows resting on his knees and chin propped in his hands. He was the only audience Lia had, everyone else having made tracks when they learned what all this would entail. Daryl's presence was still more attention than Lia wanted at the moment.

She threw him a glare. "Don't you have something more important to do?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nope." His grin widened. "Guess what. Yer face really does turn green when yer grossed out."

"I'm so glad you find my discomfort so entertaining."

"Hey, nobody's twistin' yer arm t' do this."

Lia coughed as she started scraping the loosened hair off the skin. Once that was finally over, she sat back on her heels with a sigh. "Hokay. Now comes the really gross part." She glanced at Daryl. "Sure you wanna stick around for this?"

He smirked. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Great," she sighed. She went to another bucket, this one covered with a thick towel. She removed the towel and jerked her head away from the stench that rose up like a cloud. The book described the next step in the tanning process as "bating", which would allow the leather to absorb the tannin later on. To do this required certain types of enzymes which nature provided in the least appealing source; animal dung. Lia had spent hours in the woods collecting whatever scat she came across. Most of it was dry, which meant it smelled less, but she needed to add water to make it easier to rub into the hide.

"Augh!" Lia gagged as she scooped up the first handful of cold, mushy shit. She was never more grateful for her rubber gloves than she was at that moment.

Daryl laughed so hard at this spectacle he was rolling on the ground clutching his stomach. Lia tried to look angry, but it was hard to do when she felt a giggle fit coming on. The situation was just too absurd not to laugh at.

Lia slathered on the foul-smelling offal, rubbing it into the skin so the enzymes could work their magic. It wasn't too long before she noticed a difference. The hide no longer tried to curl up at the edges. It lay perfectly flat.

"Now to rinse this shit off." She managed to get the gloves off without smearing anything on herself. Tossing them aside, she went to where two large Super-Soaker water guns lay filled and ready. "Why don't you make yourself useful?" She held one of the Soakers out.

Daryl, red-faced and panting from his earlier hysterics, slowly got to his feet and took the proffered water gun. Side by side, the two of them primed the Super-Soakers and proceeded to hose off the deerskin. Daryl also took the opportunity to squirt Lia, for which she instantly retaliated. A small water-fight distracted them for a few minutes until they ran out of "ammo." The hide now feces-free, Lia set her water gun aside and pulled out the stakes holding the hide in place. Daryl helped her carry it over to where she'd dug a small pit earlier. The book said to use a clay-lined pit, so Lia found the biggest, deepest clay flowerpot she could find and buried it. She didn't know how necessary it was to have it in the ground, but wasn't about to argue with the instructions. The pot was filled with a solution of water and crushed oak bark. The mixture let out a pungent - but not at all unpleasant - odor that Lia knew was from the tannin seeping out of the oak bark. It was the tannin which would alter the proteins in the leather to prevent it from stiffening and rotting. There was a wooden pole in the middle of the clay pot. Lia and Daryl draped the hide over the pole and watched it submerge in the tannin solution. Lia then covered the whole thing with a tarp and weighted the edges down with stones. She straightened, hands pressed to the small of her back, and leaned back with a faint groan.

"All we gotta do now," she said, "is wait a couple of days, then we've got leather. Unless I totally screwed it up."

Daryl put his arms around her waist and drew her close. Lia smiled and draped her arms around his neck.

"Might be years 'fore we need t' know any o' this," Daryl pointed out.

"I like to be prepared," Lia said.

Daryl pressed his thumb to the space between her eyes where the frown line appeared whenever she considered future troubles. "Shouldn't fret so much," he admonished.

Lia smiled. "I don't worry as much as I used to. Seems you're a distracting influence." She kissed the mole beside his mouth.

Daryl grinned. "In a good way, right?"

"A very good way." Lia rested her head against his shoulder, their bodies swaying a little as if to unheard music. "Part of me was closed off before you came. I forgot what it was like to have someone to take care of me when I needed it."

Daryl looped one of her braids around his finger and gave it a light tug, making her smile. He still hadn't decided whether he liked her hair better this way or hanging loose. "Funny," he mused, "I thought you were takin' care o' me."

"We're taking care of each other."

"I c'n think of sumthin' I need taken care of." He grabbed her hips and ground his pelvis against hers, letting her feel his growing arousal.

Lia laughed, then moaned in regret. "I think I need a bath first."

Daryl's smile didn't falter. He leaned in, his mouth close to hers. "Then I'll just hafta settle for washin' yer back." His kiss offered the promise of more in the near future. Lia's happy sigh into his mouth told him she accepted.

A/N: I read up on the process of tanning leather on a website called Alpharubicon (), in an article creatively titled "Tanning Leather" by Dragoona. There are many more, equally gross methods listed there, but I figured Lia would pick the kind that provided the best results, feces and all.