Chapter 2: Sauce for the Goose

Everyone could see they were different with each other. From the new relaxation in Carol's stance when Daryl was near, to the casual-yet-intimate way he touched her arm as he passed - not that anyone expected the two of them to lock lips in the center of the mess hall, and frankly would have found it to be uncomfortably weird if they did - it was obvious they'd finally gotten past whatever obstacles had kept them from each other's bed, and it was difficult to keep that knowledge from informing wide smiles and smug glances among their friends.

The end to months of unspoken tension didn't mean, however, that Daryl suddenly became a cheerful, approachable teddy bear, which became obvious one afternoon when Tyreese congratulated him and slapped him on the back in an attempt at some sort of attaboy, guy-bonding moment.

Backing away from Daryl's slitted, hostile glare and upraised fist, Ty put up his hands and said, "Whoa, man, no call to get ugly with me, I just meant it was great that you finally hooked up with that sweetheart of yours. She's a fine catch."

Daryl lowered his clenched hand and snarled, "She ain't no fuckin' fish. And who says anything's goin' on between us?"

"Uh, everyone? I mean, it's there to see, for anyone who's looking. And I think I'm gonna quit talking now, 'cause I don't think either of us wants to waste energy punching the shit out of each other over a misunderstanding, and I'm sorry if I misread things." Tyreese walked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

When Daryl stalked past her with a ferocious look on his face, Carol instinctively set aside what she was working on and followed him up to his cell. Inside, he spun around and growled, "Why the fuck can't all them people just mind their own goddamned business for once? It ain't their concern what we're doin'."

"If I remember right, Daryl, you weren't worried about people knowing about us. Or did you change your mind?"

"I ain't worried," he said, sitting on the lower bunk and restlessly pushing his fingers through the knots in his hair. "I don't care who knows, just don't understand why everybody wants to talk about it. Buncha damn gossips, you'd think they'd have better things to do with their time."

"I think that's the point, Daryl," Carol said soothingly, twining her fingers in the strands at the nape of his neck. "There isn't much else to do when you're tending to routine chores, except talk, and I think it's natural for people to to be interested in what's going on in each other's lives. I'm grateful that we're building something here that lets us care enough to be curious.

"I'm sure it's different for you - when you're out hunting, or on a run, you have to focus on what you're doing, and you aren't looking for some way to fill the time. Believe me, if you were stuck washing out people's dirty shorts every day, you'd want some distraction too. They don't mean any harm, so it wouldn't kill you to tell them 'no' in a little nicer way. You don't have to threaten them. Just tell them you'd prefer not to talk about that."

"Yeah, like that's gonna keep 'em away," Daryl said acidly. "I swear, Glenn's the worst one, always lookin' for some dirty detail. He's lucky I like him, otherwise I'da had to throw him off the tower after the second or third time."

"I'll make you a deal, Daryl," Carol offered. "You practice saying, 'that's our private business,' or something along those lines, and I'll see what I can do about Glenn. He really should know better by now than poke the hornet's nest."

Glenn wilted under Carol's admonishing gaze, and sighed, "I know, I shouldn't mess with him, but it's just so hard to resist. He's always been this tough, untouchable guy, and knowing he's got a soft spot now… it's too tempting not to tease him, just to see him get all riled up."

"Do you want to get on Daryl's bad side, Glenn?" Carol asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Because I'm telling you right now, he's fast approaching the ragged edge with you, and he'd hate himself if he lost his temper and hurt you."

"Oh, that's just great. It'd be bad because he'd hate that he clobbered me, not because I got clobbered." Glenn made a face at her, and Carol laughed.

"Well, I'm sorry, Glenn, but you're asking for it! You know damn well how private he is, and you're tempting fate if you think you can keep pushing him like this for your entertainment. It's your choice, but I'm telling you, back off, or he's going to kick your ass. And honestly, I'll have a hard time sympathizing with you if that happens."

With a truce called on Glenn's campaign to needle Daryl to the point of explosion, and Daryl's own promise to side-step people's questions instead of responding with hostility, the underlying tension diminished quickly, and Carol set her mind back to working on her new relationship. 'Relationship' was an odd word for what they had, she thought - first friendship, growing into an unspoken, unswerving commitment to each other's well-being, and now this unbridled flood of passion that only seemed to strengthen as the days went on - no word as mundane as that could capture what Daryl was to her.

She was sorting through her dirty clothes, making a bundle for the laundry, when she came upon a piece of paper in the pocket of her jacket. "You're the one true thing I ever knew." She smiled to herself, remembering the day he'd pressed it into her hand. She had forgotten to ask him what he'd meant by it, but it didn't matter. It was still precious to her.

Setting aside the laundry, she grabbed the pad of paper and pen she kept on the table by the bed and sat on her bunk, trying to think what to put in a note of her own. After a time she grinned, and wrote, "My day doesn't really start until I've seen your face." That was one of her own true things. She tore the page free and went down to his cell to tuck it into the pocket of a pair of his pants.

The next afternoon she saw him come through the yard on his way from where he and Rick had been working on a repair project, and as he stopped to light one of his occasional cigarettes, she saw the paper between his fingers as he pulled out his lighter. He stood still, looking down at it in confusion. He opened the note, and a fleeting smile crossed his face. His head whipped around, and his eyes found her where she stood. He nodded, his cheeks turning a little pink, and her answering smile grew wide on her face. He ducked his head as if to hide a grin, and continued on in the same direction. Such a simple thing, but so rewarding.

The next day she decided to be more bold. "My new favorite sound is when you're inside me, and you say my name." She put that one in the pocket of the shirt she was mending for him. It was his favorite, and she knew it wouldn't be long before he found it.

She only had to wait a few hours before he showed up at her door, the shirt balled in his hand. "You can't be doin' this to me. What if someone'd been right there when I found this?"

She scrunched her face up and said mischieviously, "Um, maybe you'd have had to explain why you were walking a little strangely?"

He glowered and looked at her accusingly. "You think you're so funny, huh? I got half a mind to make you walk a little strangely, see how you like explainin' that!"

"Don't light that match if you're not prepared to put out the fire, Daryl," she said, challenging him.

He leaned back into the hall and shot a look in both directions, then took two steps and had her wrists in his hands, locking them behind her. His mouth came down savagely on her collarbone, sucking her skin between his lips hard enough to mark her. Her breaths came hard and fast, and she twisted against him, grinding her pelvis on his sudden erection. She was instantly wet for him, and she cried out in his ear. He let go of one wrist and shoved her shirt up to expose her bra, then pulled the cup down and caught her breast in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the nipple and pulling it between his lips. His hand pressed between her legs, stroking the seam of her pants, and she rocked into it, rubbing herself against his fingers.

Just as suddenly as he'd begun, he let her go, and his narrowed eyes roved over her flushed face and body. "That's all you're gettin' from me for now, sweetheart. Enjoy that case of blue whatever-it-is women get." As Carol gasped for breath, he smiled smugly and left her there, high and most certainly not dry. She staggered over to the bunk and collapsed onto it, feeling an empty ache in her abdomen that she knew was not apt to be satisfied by him any time soon.

I think this is what they call 'being hoist on my own petard', she thought to herself, and started to laugh. She considered dropping the sheet over her door and quietly taking charge of her own orgasm, but decided she'd probably deserved having him get her all worked up and then leave her like this. Besides, the build-up would likely make things even more… satisfying the next time. Just as long as that next time wasn't too far off.

A/N: Whoops, that whole "smut & nothing but" thing didn't quite hold here. Sorry for the foreplay, but I won't make anyone wait too long for the next part.