The knocking of the door was the equivalent to a hammer to her skull. Kate wiped the matted tendrils of hair from her forehead and rolled off the sofa, the weight of the alcohol was still resting heavily in her stomach as she staggered to the door still dressed in last night's clothes.

Kate opened the door a crack to see Daryl Dixon standing there. Shit, she shut the door in his face and leaned on the handle. What the hell was he doing here? She glanced at the entry way mirror to see the panda eyes of mascara and streaks from last night's tears, bedraggled hair and her dress. She was an absolute mess.

"Ain't ya gonna let me in? I came all this way…" Daryl's thick accent called from the other side of the door.

"I don't want you to see me like this," she blurted and could hear him laughing at her which made her feel even more mortified than she already did. "If you were a gentleman you would avoid me and pretend last night didn't happen."

"Good thing I ain't a gentleman then… an' I have somethin' for ya."

Kate wiped away the most of the mascara and smoothed down her unruly hair. What did she care anyway? To hell with vanity. It was only Daryl.

/

Kate let the door swing open and Daryl's eyes looked at the length of her with a faint smirk, she looked like the walking dead. He held out a flask, "Merles hangover cure," which Daryl had painstakingly put together this morning.

"Who the hell's Merle?"

"My brother," for a split second he thought she might slam the door shut again, but she didn't. Instead, Kate stepped back from the middle of the doorway and inclined her head to allow him entry into her home.

Daryl stepped past her and looked at the table covered in sunglasses and perfume. Then he tried not to look into the living room where he knew the photographs all sat waiting. Would he say something to her? He hadn't decided. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with his decision to return to her house this morning but she had been on his mind when he went to sleep last night and she was on his mind when he woke. Seeing her had felt more like a compulsion than an option.

Daryl stepped onto the light grey tiled floor of her kitchen. It was modern and sparse. Unlike the hallways which had acquired a clutter of Kate like possessions there was nothing in here to indicate that anyone lived here. It was so opposite to Charlene and Irma's kitchens which always had a pile of kitchen gadgets, utensils and ingredients scattered about the counter. He placed Merle's cure on the marble top and watched Kate slump down heavily at the kitchen table. She folded her arms in front of her and nestled her head in between. Heavy drinking, heavy hangover.

Daryl spotted the cupboard with the glasses glistening through the little glass squares on the door. He grabbed a big one and filled it with what he knew was an absolutely vile tasting liquid before he dug in his pocket for the box of aspirins he had brought and popped two out of the blister.

"Here," he placed the glass and the pills in front of her.

Kate arose from her arms with a pained sigh before she picked up the glass. He felt bad for coming here and realised that she might have preferred to be left alone to sleep it off rather than having him watching her. She smelled the liquid in the glass before crinkling her nose, "what exactly is this?"

"All ya need to know is that it works."

Kate narrowed her big brown eyes and stared him down but he didn't look away. He wondered if she would trust him, if she would ignore all instincts that would tell a sane person not to drink the acrid liquid and simply drink it because he said she should. He felt himself holding his breath as he wondered if she would take what he had offered. He wanted her trust back. Even if they could only have friendship and nothing more, he would take it gladly. She picked up the two pills off the table before ever so delicately placing them in her mouth and with a small resigned sigh she chased them down with the hangover cure.

"Bloody hell!" Kate exclaimed as the taste of the cure set in, "are you actually trying to kill me?"

Daryl tried his best to hide his amusement while he ordered her to "drink it." Then he began to search her bare cupboards for food. The woman had virtually nothing to make for breakfast or any other meal. Just a box of tea, a carton that had about a mouthful of milk, a bottle of champagne and a questionable looking jar of pickles. He closed the fridge door, "don't ya eat 'round 'ere?"

"I… go out."

Daryl snorted, "ya best get dressed then, I'm goddamn starvin'."

Kate downed the last of the cure and pulled a face. He wasn't sure if it was at the taste or because he was bossing her around but then she demanded, "what?"

"Ya heard me," he replied and allowed a smile to spread across his face, "now git…" Daryl pointed to the stairs and before she could respond he quickly let himself into the back yard. He was feeling more confident now. Kate might have been bossy and stubborn. In fact, she probably always got people to bend to her will but last night when he had thrown her in his truck and she'd looked as pissed off as she could possibly look, he could tell that she'd liked it. She'd enjoyed losing control and he'd enjoyed taking it.

/

The door slammed shut behind Daryl and Kate seethed. Who the hell did he think he was bossing her around in her own house? She jumped up and peaked through the kitchen window to see him lighting up a cigarette. "Arsehole," she decided before stalking over to the back door and resting her fingertips on the latch. She thought about locking him out and played the scenario through in her head. No outcome involved him quietly sneaking away over the neighbour's gardens so the idea fell flat. Then her stomach growled and her hangover demanded a big plate of greasy food and caffeine.

Fine, Kate decided. She'd get ready and go for breakfast but only because she wanted to. Not because he told her to. Why was he here anyway? She grabbed her empty glass and shoved it in the dishwasher before plodding up the stairs and resisting the urge to fall into bed for a three hour nap.

When she emerged from the shower Kate felt almost human again except for her rumbling tummy. She decided to let her hair air dry and flung open her closet to browse her clothes. It was unbearably humid and she wanted to be comfortable. She found some dark floral cotton trousers and floaty navy cami. Then she looked at her shoes, she had a nice pair of sandals with a block heel that would stop her from feeling like a midget like she did whenever she wore flats, or there were her black leather Birkenstocks that her best girl friend from university had lovingly named her 'old lady shoes'. She went for comfort and slipped on the old ladies. Tinted moisturiser, a slick of mascara and her favourite red lipstick and she was ready.

Daryl was still in the garden when she went down stairs. She opened up the door and stepped outside, letting it fall shut behind her.

"I fixed it…" he rasped then swung the porch swing with a satisfied smile. He looked so ridiculously manly with his sleeves rolled up as he 'fixed her shit'. It annoyed her.

"Look, I don't need you fixing things and… poking your fingers around in places…" Kate heard herself and quickly added "in my house."

"Why?"

Why? It was a simple question and one she had no valid answer to. "Because…" she let out an exasperated gasp. "I can fix it myself or… hire someone to do it for me."

Daryl stepped forward, he invaded her personal space and she suddenly wished she was wearing the heels. "Now ya don't need to," he said before he stared her down and leaned one of his hands on the house, hemming her between him and the closed door.

Kate knew he was just being friendly and helpful but there was something about him being here and looking after her that was making her feel anxious. Maybe it was because in the past year she had never had anyone but Lou in her personal space and now here he was taking up all the room. She stared at the buttons on his shirt and tucked her hair behind her ears. "You're… overstepping the mark."

Daryl let out a low gruff laugh, "what mark?"

"You're not my…" Boyfriend, shit, can't say that. "Handyman," Kate decided before she turned around to get inside the house and away from him before he could ask another question.

She could feel him following her and she tried to ignore him as she poured the contents of last night's clutch bag into a bigger handbag and pulled the strap across her chest. She grabbed her ray bans and sprayed on her perfume like she always did before instantly regretting it as she caught sight of the way Daryl was looking at her in the reflection of the hallway mirror. He was smelling her perfume and instead of feeling flattered that he liked it she felt even more anxious than previously.

She fell back onto her door handle and reached behind to open it. She wanted to believe he was only Daryl but he made her nervous in a way that was familiar yet long forgotten. It was like being trapped in the moment before she had her very first kiss, the same fluttery mixture of heart stopping excitement and palm sweating panic.

As soon as she stepped outside she cringed as her eyes landed on his blue truck and their previously forgotten conversation from last night sprung to the forefront of her mind. She couldn't believe she had uttered the words 'sex truck' to him. She let him hop down her front steps before she turned to lock the door and buy herself some time while the redness that had filled her cheeks died down along with her dignity.

Kate wondered once more what on earth had possessed Daryl to come to her house this morning.

/

"Ya wanna walk somewhere for breakfast, or take a ride…" Daryl paused and scratched his chin as he measured her up and dared to say, "in the sex truck?"

That caught her attention as she let out a small gasp and squared up to him in the uppity way that only she could, "you are definitely no gentleman, Mr Dixon."

Daryl chuckled to himself and grabbed his sunglasses out of his truck. He maybe should have been nicer and tried his best not to embarrass her but he loved the way she looked and acted when he ruffled her feathers. He watched her marching away then chased after her. "Sorry… I couldn't help myself…" he tried not to grin.

"When you were drunk… I let you fall on your head… gladly," Kate huffed.

Gladly. Daryl snorted. "Lucky for you…" the words caught on the tip of his tongue. He was going to say, lucky for her she was so pretty but thankfully his mind caught up to his mouth and he changed the subject. "Ya ever been to Waffle House?" Daryl pointed down the road.

"No."

She was like a damn alien. Who had never been to a Waffle House?

They sat at a little booth facing each other and the waitress poured them a coffee while Kate looked at the menu in between two big sleepy yawns that made him smile and realise that he was infatuated. She ordered bacon, egg and cheese on toast and Daryl ordered steak and eggs plus two chocolate chip waffles since "ya can't come to waffle house without gettin' a waffle."

/

Kate watched Daryl spooning his standard 4 scoops of sugar into his coffee. He knew her secret. He knew about Harry and Ryan, yet he had said nothing. He was acting normal. She didn't know what to think of it. She hadn't faced this situation before. She had never told someone that didn't know. The people that did know she avoided, except Lou. That was why she had happily sold her house and ran away from her life. She didn't want to have to talk about it or face all the awkward pitying looks from her friends and colleagues.

"Why did you come here this morning?" Kate asked the question that had been plaguing her.

"I… er… was worried about ya."

"But you don't know me. Not really."

"I know 'bout messy drunks."

Daryl suddenly looked sad and she somehow knew he wasn't talking about her or even himself. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked out of the window. A little old couple walked past, hand in hand and smiling. "What did Dale say to you?"

"Irma's sick, she's gonna…" he didn't need to say it, "they're gonna sell the farm…"

Poor Dale. She thought about the treehouse and the carved heart, "I'm sorry."

"Ain't your fault..." he stared into his coffee for the longest time. He looked so miserable. Kate's hand slipped across the table to where her fingertips were just touching the tips of his and their eyes met. She didn't know what had come over her except that she had needed to touch him, she opened her mouth to say something but then the food arrived and she sat back, sliding her hand away and back onto her lap.

Kate took a big bite into her sandwich and it tasted okay but like a lot of things it tasted different to what it did in England. Different cheese, different bacon, even the eggs tasted different. It should have been the same but it was different. Still, she finished her sandwich in record time and was a little embarrassed at the speed with which she had consumed it but the hangover needed feeding. Daryl arranged her waffle in front of her and with the enormous jug of syrup, the biggest jug of syrup she had ever seen, he drew a smiley face on it and she couldn't help but laugh. He was a strange and unexpected man, not the kind of man she would have expected to smiley face her waffles.

"Very artistic," she teased and a strange look passed over his face.

/

Daryl placed the jug back in its place and felt his cheeks start to burn. He wasn't exactly sure why he had just syruped up her waffles like some kind of soppy little pussy but he did like the way it made her smile. This was exactly what had happened to Jim, one day he had been a normal man, hunting, fishing, drinking, they had known Charlene for years so when they went on a date it shouldn't have been a problem but it was like he had been body snatched. He'd gone in Jim and come out Charlene's boyfriend.

"What ya gonna do today?" Daryl said.

Kate bit her lip in concentration and Daryl decided she was probably thinking up something to say so she wouldn't have to spend any more time with him but instead she said, "I don't know."

This was his chance and he realised he hadn't planned for this part. Fuck, need to think of something. "Ya wanna go to the fair?"

"A fair?"

It occurred to him that Cassie might be there but it was too late to turn back now, "ya wanna go?"

"Together?"

Jesus, the woman just couldn't say yes. Daryl made a point of looking over his shoulder, "I don't see anyone else…" He wasn't going to let this drop.

/

Kate tried to think of what to say. Did she want to go to a fair? Did she want to spend more time with him? What about Hailee and Cassie? All points not to go seemed irrelevant when she pictured going home and spending the rest of the day in solitude but she couldn't just say 'yes'. She needed to assert some sort of authority. "I'll drive," Kate decided. Then the waitress brought the bill and she practically snatched it out of the woman's hand before she paid for breakfast. "Ready?"