Hotline

by SamiWammy

Hello : ) This is a series of one-shots based around Carol and Daryl. I am taking requests so content will vary from smut to emotional romance, horror, humor, you name it! If you want to see it happen, just send a PM. I'm a Caryl shipper through and through and I can't wait to see all the ideas you guys have for our favorite couple. Enjoy! 1st chapter is smut!

14. Whipped

Hi guys - so sorry for the wait! My feels definitely took a few hits this season! But I powered through to bring you this sequel to the last chapter 'Housewarming.' A few of you wanted to see more of this, and it's new territory for me. I've never shown these two the morning after, so I hope you dig it! More to come with this story line ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead

Chapter 14: Whipped

Weak light filtered in through the white curtains, piercing the early morning gloom and making Carol blink. As her eyelids slowly fluttered open, she took a deep breath and smiled. The pillowcase smelled like him. As the smile spread on her lips, she snuggled down into the pillow, wanting to lose herself in the softness and the scent it carried.

The instant she moved, Carol felt the pressure of Daryl's hand on her hip. His blunt nails were pricking at her skin as he tightened his grip. They were lying in bed together, naked, pressed against one another, and Carol was savoring his body heat. He felt so strong and warm behind her. She couldn't stop herself from writhing a little…her feet brushing his.

The hunter growled softly but didn't seem to be awake. His broad hand slid from her hip to her waist, squeezing gently every few seconds. Carol giggled when she felt his scruff against the back of her neck. There was a dull ache between her legs, but she didn't care. Carol was lying tangled with someone who truly meant something to her, and she couldn't recall the last time she'd felt so good.

More sunlight was spilling into the room, urging the lovers to wake up, but neither wanted to. Carol was content to stay in bed…for the rest of the day…the week even. She didn't want to get dressed…didn't want to leave the room. The only things waiting for her beyond the door were responsibilities she'd rather not have. As far as she was concerned, Carol had everything she needed right next to her.

Sleep hadn't completely relinquished its hold, and Carol let her lids droop again, blocking out the light. She shifted, trying to get comfortable, and Daryl growled behind her. The breath caught in her throat as the hunter's hand moved up suddenly to cup her breast. He began massaging the tender flesh while his hips bucked gently against her ass.

Carol couldn't stop herself from moaning. Daryl responded to the sound, grinding his hips into her and nuzzling the back of her neck. She could feel herself blushing. He was muttering something into her shoulder blade. Even though her partner wasn't fully awake, Carol quickly realized that his body was. With every motion of his hips, Daryl pressed his erection against her ass. That was all it took.

She ignored the soreness in her core and pushed her body back into him. It didn't matter how much it would hurt, or what time it was…all she wanted was to feel him between her thighs again. His cock seemed to be growing as he rubbed it purposefully against her.

Carol couldn't stand it. She reached for his hand, pulling it away from her breast, before she rolled onto her side to face him. Suddenly very awake, the lovers stared at one another. Their breathing had picked up and they each waited anxiously for the other to say something.

Daryl's eyes flicked to her chest, taking in the soft curves…the tight, pink peaks of her nipples. He wanted to feel them under his tongue. When he refocused on her face, they were both smirking.

"Mornin'." he growled.

"Morning." she said softly.

Tension filled the sliver of space between them. Carol licked her lips, wondering if he would say something else, but he didn't. They just stared at each other…their fingers absently clawing at the bedspread beneath them. Without taking her eyes from his, Carol used one hand to carefully push the thin, white sheet down past her hips, exposing her core. Daryl's eyes were immediately drawn to her pussy.

While he was distracted by her body, she reached for his waist, and pushed the sheet down slowly until she could see his cock. They admired each other's bodies without shame…their heart rates steadily increasing. She studied the long, thick shaft…remembering what it felt like to ride it the night before. Her walls were already opening.

The hunter's eyes found hers again and he smirked, beckoning her. Carol couldn't keep the grin off her face as she moved towards him. Daryl rolled onto his back while she climbed on top, straddling him. The instant he felt her soft thighs pressing in on either side of his hips, he sat up and gripped her waist. She locked her legs around him, keeping their bodies together. Carol's hands went to his temples, and they held each other's gazes for several heartbeats.

Sitting on the bed, in a mess of white sheets, the lovers took each other in. Their lids were heavy with sleep and lust. They looked thoroughly exhausted and satisfied as they chuckled at each other's mussed hair. Carol's fingers moved into his locks, tugging, bringing him closer. She kissed the corner of his mouth and giggled.

"What?" he asked in a low growl.

She shook her head slowly before kissing his jaw. "Nothing. Just…I guess a part of me thought this might be awkward."

Daryl liked the way her lips felt against his skin…he liked having her fingers in his hair…and her core resting over his manhood. There was a rumble coming from deep in his chest as his broad hands slid down to her ass, kneading the flesh.

"Ain't nothin' awkward about that pussy." he said in a rough whisper.

Carol was getting wet as she sat in his lap. She pulled his hair a little harder and looked him in the eye. "Already?" she asked, slightly amused.

Daryl clawed at her ass and bit his lip. "You're the one climbin' on top of me…fuckin' wet…"

The lovers couldn't take it anymore. He lunged for her mouth, kissing her hard, and Carol moaned against his lips. Daryl was restless…his hands roaming her body, mapping out her skin. He ran them up from her ass, along her sides, clawing at her shoulder blades before sliding back down to her tailbone. There wasn't a part of her that he didn't like, and the hunter was determined to memorize every inch of her body.

As their tongues met, Carol let her nails graze his scalp before her hands formed tight fists in his shocks of dark hair. The hint of pain made him throb underneath her. Carol's hips rocked on instinct and they both swore. Her hands traveled to his neck, briefly massaging the muscles there. The hunter groaned in response and held tight to his partner's frame.

Neither knew when the kissing stopped, and neither seemed to care. All they wanted was to touch, feel, breathe each other in. Carol nipped at his earlobe, making him grunt. He nuzzled her temple roughly, leaving his scent on her skin. The lovers explored one another with damp palms and cautious fingertips…collarbones were caught between teeth and tongues flicked gently against salty skin.

Lost, fascinated, Daryl and Carol made up for all the touching they hadn't done the night before. The hunter realized, as he felt the ridges in her spine, that he'd been too hungry…too crazed to appreciate all of her little details during their time against the counter…and even in the shower. He'd been so focused on his own selfish pleasure, that he hadn't noticed all the subtle pieces that made Carol who she was.

While his mate continued to mutter and writhe in his lap, Daryl stole a moment to admire her. He let his hands travel down along her sides again, marveling at how soft her skin was…how smooth. He ducked his head, nipping at her shoulder, and noticed the dusting of freckles there. Taking a slow, deep breath, the hunter pulled her scent into his lungs. He felt himself get harder almost instantly.

Daryl never knew that something as simple as a smell could have such an intense, immediate effect on his body. It wasn't even a new smell…it was Carol. He knew her scent…or he thought he did. He'd been traveling with her since Atlanta. He growled softly, nipping her shoulder again, and wondered if it was the woman in his lap that was new…not the scent on her skin. He'd fought alongside her, hunkered down in storage units and abandoned cars…but he'd never met this version of her. The woman who'd shared his bed…who'd held him in her walls and made him come… This was new territory for both of them, and something about it unnerved the hunter. He had no idea what to expect from her.

A soft moan stirred him from his thoughts. Carol was dragging her nails down his biceps while she sucked at his neck. It felt amazingly good and Daryl began to think that he might be having the best morning of his life. He gripped her waist and bucked a little underneath her, making them both whine. The wetness he could feel between her legs was slowly torturing him…he needed to get inside.

Carol was hungry for her partner. She sucked his neck harder while her hands moved to his chest. Any lingering shreds of self control that Daryl might've had seemed to disappear when her teeth caught his skin. Groaning, and muttering curses under his breath, the hunter collapsed onto his back…Carol's body was fused to his…her long legs straddling his waist. Writhing on the bed, Daryl pushed his hips up into hers, desperately seeking to penetrate her.

"You sure?" she breathed against his earlobe. She was grinding her pelvis into his, smothering his cock.

Daryl growled and reached for her hips. With an iron grip, he held her body down against him. He could feel the heat of her pussy on his dick. He made sure to hold her in place while he throbbed underneath her.

"You feel how sure I am?" he asked.

Carol gasped, a smile spreading on her lips. More wetness hit her core, leaking from her slit.

Daryl felt it and his hips jerked. All he wanted was to slip inside. Sweat was breaking out on his forehead.

Carol's hands splayed on his chest as she propped herself up. She stared down at her lover and forgot the rest of the world. There…in that room, he was everything. He was the only thing that mattered.

"What if we're making a mistake?" she asked, a flush spreading over her entire body.

The hunter bucked again, making sure to press the hardened length of his manhood against her softness. "Think we done made it three times already…" he growled.

She clawed at his chest and moaned, remembering how it felt to have him inside her. Sex that good couldn't be wrong. It just couldn't… In the next instant, Daryl grabbed both of her breasts, squeezing hard and making her gasp. Her walls opened and she realized how empty she was without him.

"Tellin' me ya don't want it?" he asked, bucking weakly underneath her.

"I…" she couldn't stop herself from rocking against him. "I didn't…say that…"

He snarled, the tip of his cock leaking. "Then c'mon woman…Jesus…" he pushed his hips up into hers.

Something about the need she could hear in his voice…it was at once startling and exciting. Already drowning in their own lust, the lovers didn't give the world beyond the door a second thought. Carol let him massage her breasts while she lifted her hips.

Daryl nearly came when he felt her grab his shaft. Her grip was tight, and he knew he wasn't going to last long. Unable to stop himself, he released one of her breasts..his hand going to the bed. Daryl used the leverage to push himself up until his lips were hovering over hers. He and Carol stared at each other for half a heartbeat…but need won out and they collided, closing the distance.

The hunter's mouth was incredibly distracting, but Carol did her best to focus. She held onto the base of his cock and positioned him at her entrance. His tongue sank into her mouth and she was about to let her body ease down onto his member, but something stopped her.

"Daryl?" a familiar voice called from just outside the door.

The lovers broke the kiss and tried to keep themselves from panting too loudly. Their hearts were racing and neither was sure what they'd just heard…

"Daryl?" the voice called again. "You in there?"

In that moment, Carol and Daryl's eyes slammed shut and they sighed through their noses.

Rick…

"Fuckin'…dammitt…" the words slid from between the hunter's clenched teeth.

"You better say something…" she breathed. "I don't think we locked it."

Daryl took half a second to question why he only had to resort to quick thinking when all the blood in his body had left his brain.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?" the hunter finally answered. There was an edge to his voice, and the response held more venom than he would've liked, but he was battling intense frustration.

Rick's brows knit together as he stood on the other side of the door. Daryl sounded unusually hostile. "Was just tryin' to track you down. Deanna wants to meet with us today. Figured we'd better get our stories straight before that happens."

"Fine." Daryl bit out. Carol's fingers were still wrapped around his cock.

The deputy scratched at the back of his head, wondering what had gotten into his friend. "You alright?"

Daryl sighed through his nose again. "I'm fine."

"If you say so. Was thinkin' we could get together. You, me, Carol, Glenn, Michonne. We're meeting outside the fence…into the woods a ways. Eastern side of the neighborhood."

"Got it." Daryl growled. He was twitching and leaking in Carol's grasp.

Rick folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the door. "You comin'?"

"Fuckin' christ..." the hunter muttered under his breath. "Yeah. Alright? I'll be there."

Satisfied for the time being, Rick turned to walk away. "See you in ten."

The lovers let themselves breathe when they heard the deputy's footsteps fading.

"God bless!" Daryl snarled as he collapsed onto his back, his hands going to Carol's thighs.

Before she could speak, another unwelcome interruption broke the silence.

"One more thing…" Rick called out.

The hunter glared up at the ceiling and drew on every last ounce of restraint that he had. "Yeah?"

"I'm not sure where Carol got to. Can you run all this by her if you see her?"

Daryl ground his teeth.

She'd be ridin' my damn cock if it weren't for your sorry ass…

"If I see her…I'll let her know." he snapped.

Finally accepting that the hunter needed a moment, Rick turned on his heel and walked through the kitchen, towards the living room.

Carol and Daryl both winced when they heard the front door open and slam shut out in the front of the house. She stared down at her partner, slightly amused by the near tantrum she'd just witnessed. There was something undeniably funny about Daryl Dixon pouting…because of sex.

She smirked at him and cocked her head to the side. "You're not much of a morning person are you?" Her fingers were massaging the base of his manhood.

He realized that they were alone again and he squeezed her thighs. "I could be…"

"What are you saying?" she teased.

Daryl grunted, bucking into her hand. "I'm sayin' we can still turn this mornin' around."

"Yeah?" She moaned a little as she rubbed him against her slit.

He was throbbing again. "Yeah. Unless you wanna let that go to waste…" He glanced down at his cock…at the way her slender fingers were curled around it.

She laughed as she began to ease her hips down. "Don't we have to be somewhere in ten minutes? Guess it's more like eight now…"

The hunter's lips parted, and the air was stolen from his lungs when he felt the head of his cock dip inside her. "Aw…aw…" but he couldn't seem to do much more than whine.

"Oh fuck!" Carol groaned.

She'd forgotten just how big he was. Her body was rigid as she took him in, inch by inch. His thick shaft was already stretching her. There was a sharp pain deep in her core, and Carol knew she wasn't ready to have him in her pussy again. But the discomfort was a small price to pay for the pleasure she knew he would bring her. So she fought through it, welcoming him in.

With her mouth open, and he eyes slammed shut, Carol let her body sink down around his hardness. Daryl bucked his hips every few seconds, sending his aching member up into the heat between her legs. Once he was buried in her center, and their hips were flush, Daryl swallowed hard and made himself speak.

"Eight…fuckin' minutes…" he breathed.

"Eight minutes." she agreed, her hands splaying on his sweaty chest.

"Think we can do it?" Daryl panted.

She bent down, leaning over him, and his hands went to her ass. "We've got this." she breathed against his lips.

The hunter smirked before catching her mouth with his.

---

"I talked to him before I left the house." said Rick. The deputy was massaging his temple as he paced.

Michonne's arms were folded across her chest. "And he told you he'd be here?"

"Yeah." Rick blew out a breath and shook his head.

"He seem okay?" Glenn asked.

Rick paused and glanced at his companions. "No. He didn't."

Glenn was leaning against a nearby tree. "That doesn't mean anything. He's been pissed since we got here."

"I know." the deputy sighed. "But he's not one to break his word."

Michonne kicked at the ground with the toe of her boot. "If said he's coming…he'll be here."

"And Carol?" Rick asked.

"We still calling her that?" Glenn quipped. "Because I'm not sure who she is anymore."

"I think it's smart." said the deputy. "These people don't need to know who we are, or what we've done."

"So we just play roles from here on out? Is that it?" Michonne asked, a crease forming in her brow.

Rick locked eyes with her. "Not saying it has to be permanent…but for now…I think it's better to keep Deanna and her people in the dark. We all know they took a risk letting us in…they probably shouldn't have. But we're here now, and we need to understand what we're dealin' with before we let these people in."

Glenn and Michonne exchanged glances; they couldn't argue with their leader. As grateful as they all were for the food and shelter they'd found in Alexandria, none of them were entirely comfortable with the idea of letting their guards down just yet.

"I don't know if I can do it." said Glenn.

Rick eyed his friend, waiting for him to finish the thought.

"Pretend." the younger man explained. "I'm just…not sure I have it in me. Not like Carol."

"You don't need to be like Carol." said Michonne. "Just keep your head down. Don't draw attention. Watch what you say, and who you say it to."

Glenn sighed. "I'm trying."

Rick cupped his forehead and kept pacing. "I don't like this. One of 'em not being here…I can get past that. But both of 'em?"

"Want me to head back? I can get over the fence…take a look around…see what the hold-up is." Glenn offered.

The deputy opened his mouth to speak, but Michonne cut him off. "Looks like you won't have to." She gestured towards two figures in the distance.

Rick and Glenn followed her gaze, and the trio watched as Carol and Daryl slowly advanced.

"At least he found her." Glenn ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against his tree.

---

The hunter and his mate were both panting a little as they made their way through the brush just beyond the walls that surrounded Alexandria. The sun seemed to glare down at them in judgment for what they'd done. The heat was oppressive, but the two companions were silently grateful for it. They needed an excuse for the sweat on their skin and their flushed faces.

Daryl's hands were thrust into his pockets and he was trying desperately to keep the smirk off his face. He could still feel the softness of Carol's breasts in his palms…and the delicious wetness of her pussy wrapped around him. They'd rocked on the bed together, without restraint…taking what they wanted from one another. She'd ridden him with incredible urgency…fucking him until neither of them could see straight. All he could think about was the up and down…the way she slid onto his member and held it so tightly between her thighs.

The motion of their hips had been fluid…her slickness easing the way as he slipped in with each thrust. He'd held onto her ass, squeezing it harder and harder as she moved on top of him. But his grip wasn't enough to slow her down. She bucked and moaned above him, taking his cock like she'd been doing it for years…and Daryl had watched, wide-eyed and restless, as she used him. He felt her thighs tremble violently on either side of his hips…and she raked her nails angrily down his chest…to his stomach. Being able to watch her…to know that she was taking so much pleasure from his manhood…it gave Daryl an amazing high…one that he still hadn't come down from.

The hunter bit his bottom lip as he remembered the way her orgasm felt. The staggering blend of heat and pressure on his dick…the way her core flooded while he was still so deep inside. She'd gone rigid on top of him, but he moved his hands to her hips and forced her to keep going. He used his grip to urge her while he continued to thrust up into her wetness. He shivered just thinking about how it felt to slide into her passage, his swollen cock rubbing her walls with every stroke.

It hadn't taken much after that. Feeling her warm walls quiver and constrict around his shaft was enough to make him come. His mouth had been open…his hands on her breasts as he let the incredible pleasure rush through him…into his groin, along the length of his member, making it so hard inside her. They both cried out, their eyes slamming shut as he pushed himself up, as deep as he could go, and let the semen spill from the end of his cock. He remembered how weightless he'd been…caught in the heavy haze of euphoria as he let himself spurt between her legs. Unable to stop themselves…the lovers rocked weakly together, enjoying each other's bodies. Her smooth, wet walls felt incredible as they massaged his cock, milking it, urging him to come for her. His eyes had gone back in his head as he let her clench him, and he pushed up into her, emptying himself, until her pussy was full of his hot seed.

They'd used every last one of their eight minutes, savoring every heated second. But they'd mastered themselves, and managed to separate, their bodies still dripping and spent… They didn't care about the mess they'd made of each other or the bedspread; there wasn't any time to worry about it. Still covered in each other's sweat, they'd scrambled to find their clothes. On numb legs, they'd hurried out of the house, making a bee-line for the eastern side of the neighborhood. Scaling the wall had been a bit of a challenge for them, but by some miracle they'd made it up and over.

They were keeping up the pace in an attempt to make up for lost time, and Daryl nearly stumbled in his haste. He was too busy reliving their time together to pay close attention to where he was going. Carol's hand shot out to steady him and the contact seemed to pull him back into the present.

"You okay?" she panted.

Daryl blinked a few times before glancing at her. "I'm good." he said, smirking a little.

Carol blushed and looked away.

"How 'bout you?" he asked.

"I'm okay." she shrugged, a faint smile on her lips.

The hunter's brow furrowed. "Just okay?"

Carol picked up the pace, moving past him. The smile continued to tug at the corner of her mouth.

"Carol?" he called before wiping the sweat from above his upper lip. He hurried after her, determined to get a better answer to his question.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, giving him a smirk, but that was all. In the next instant, she turned away and refocused on the task at hand.

Daryl was getting frustrated. He stared at her back, but it wasn't long before his eyes roamed down further, to her tight ass…her long legs…and that's when he made an important discovery. He could feel something close to pride swelling inside him and he continued to trail after her.

"Y'know ya ain't exactly walkin' straight…right?"

Carol froze and shot him another look over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"

Daryl's eyes flicked to her ass again before he met her gaze. "Almost looks like ya been fucked hard." He didn't wait for a response; he simply kept moving and walked right past her.

Her lips parted in shock as she watched him take the lead.

When the hunter realized she wasn't following him, he looked back at her. "What? You gonna try 'n argue with me?"

Carol folded her arms across her chest and just stared at him, wondering where the boldness had come from. But even as she stood there, she could feel the ache radiating outwards from her core. Scaling the wall had taken a toll on her and she was in pain, but she didn't regret the actions that lead to that pain. Being with Daryl was worth every second of discomfort that followed. Her heart rate sped up a little as she remembered how it felt to have his thick, strong member buried between her legs…pulsing, stretching her…She'd ridden him so hard, taking him into her heat again and again…

The hunter could see the way her face was changing, and he liked it. Her eyes had a faraway look and he knew she was having flashbacks. "You're thinkin' about it." he said, a smug tone to his voice.

Carol blinked, pushing the distracting thoughts from her mind. "And you're not?" she quipped as she resumed walking.

"I didn't say that." he growled playfully. They fell into step beside one another.

She snorted.

"I just wanted an honest answer. That's all."

She was trying valiantly to ignore him as they made their way through the woods.

"You just okay?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

Carol finally gave in and cast a sideways glance at her partner. "I'm good, alright? Really….really good." she blushed when the words came out.

"Yeah?"

She managed a nod and kept walking.

Daryl let himself smile. "Glad to hear it."

"I shouldn't have to tell you." she huffed. "You were there…"

He chuckled. "I know. Jus like hearin' ya say it."

Carol snorted and shook her head.

"Tellin' me ya don't like hearin' about how good ya are?"

Her pace slowed and her expression grew thoughtful. She kept her eyes on the ground and shrugged. "When I was married to Ed…I went ten years without hearing it. I did fine."

The smile faded from the hunter's face. He paused and reached for her arm, gripping it gently to get her attention. "Hey."

She hugged herself and met his gaze, her eyes questioning him.

"Ya oughtta hear it." he growled softly.

She gave him a half smile.

Daryl squeezed her bicep a little harder. "That shit…" he gestured back towards Alexandria. "Was fuckin' wild. Alright? I ain't never had a mornin' like that."

Carol felt the flush working its way up her body; she couldn't look him in the eye.

"N I ain't just sayin' this shit for my health." He drank her in, admiring her from head to toe. "Ya got a pussy like a fuckin' steel trap…'n that ass is even tighter."

She swallowed hard and cast a nervous glance around, as if she was afraid that someone might overhear their conversation.

"Ain't nobody out here woman; look at me."

Carol reluctantly held his gaze.

"You're good." he said in a low growl. His hand fell away from her arm.

She cleared her throat as the smile spread on her face. "You really think so?"

Daryl's hands went to his hips and he pushed dirt up with the toe of his boot. "Yeah." he finally answered without looking at her.

Carol brought one hand up and let her fingertips rest lightly against her lips. She stood in awe of her partner, and tried to process what he'd just told her.

When the hunter lifted his chin, he could see how happy she was; it almost unnerved him. "C'mon. Best keep movin'. Rick 'n them are gonna start wonderin' where we are."

Carol did her best to keep herself in check. "Fine. Let's go." she gave him a smile as she moved past him, gently knocking his shoulder with hers.

He smirked at her, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her ass. "Ya gotta work on that walk woman."

She chuckled. "I'll try. And while I'm doing that…maybe you can work on an excuse."

"Come again?" they were walking side by side.

"For being late." she explained. "They're gonna wanna know where we were."

Daryl hadn't thought about that. "Shit…"

"Relax." she teased. "You'll think of-"

"Carol!" Rick called out.

The lovers stopped in their tracks. The brush had begun to clear and they were able to make out the familiar forms of their friends. Glenn, Michonne and Rick were standing together up ahead. The deputy raised an arm, waving to them.

Carol forced a small smile and waved back. "The less we say, the better." she whispered to her partner without making eye contact.

"Got it." he grunted. They both resumed walking.

When Daryl and Carol reached the others, they nodded greetings and tried to appear normal.

"Glad you're here." said Rick. "Almost sent Glenn back to look for you."

"Said I'd be here." Daryl growled. He'd decided to draw on his usual defense…hostility.

"Where'd you find her?" the deputy asked, gesturing in Carol's direction.

The hunter wasn't prepared for the question. His lips parted as his brain fumbled for an answer.

"Got up early this morning." said Carol. "Decided to take a walk…see what I could see. A few of our neighbors are early risers; thought I'd get to know them. Can't hurt to learn their routines. I was headed back to the house when I ran into Daryl. Caught him on his way out the door. He was kind enough to fill me in." She cast a subtle glance at her partner once she'd finished speaking.

Rick answered with a slow nod. "Smart. Think we should all be takin' a page from your book. Keep our eyes and ears open. I'm glad you're stayin' on top of things."

A hint of color appeared in Carol's cheeks as the deputy's words brought on a sudden flashback. The look on Daryl's face as she'd ridden him…the way he was staring up at her when he came… The hunter's thoughts couldn't have been far from her own and they both coughed to distract themselves.

Glenn and Michonne eyed their companions.

"You two alright?" Rick asked, somewhat confused by the fact that they'd coughed at the same time.

"We're okay." Carol answered casually, her arms folding across her chest.

"We're good." Daryl added. He was leaning against a nearby tree, his gaze fixed on Carol.

She narrowed her eyes and stared right back at him, marveling at the fact that he was still bothered by the term 'okay'...even though they were among friends, and couldn't exactly speak freely about their respective levels of sexual satisfaction. She was working so hard to keep her mask on, but the smug look on Daryl's face was trying her patience.

If I could…I would smack you.

The deputy looked from Carol to Daryl, and tried to determine exactly what was taking place between them.

The hunter changed course, refocusing on Rick. "You wanna tell me why the hell we're out here?" he snapped.

Glenn stepped in, wanting to cut some of the tension. "Deanna's been asking questions. She wants to sit down with each of us today. We should think about what we're gonna say."

Rick rubbed the back of his neck. "We gotta have our stories straight."

Carol couldn't help but smirk at the deputy's choice of words. "Good idea. What do you think Daryl? Should we make sure we're all on the same page? Get our stories straight?" she nodded in the hunter's direction.

"Guess we oughtta." he growled.

He knew what she was doing…and he couldn't blame her. They'd been reckless. They should've at least taken a few minutes to work out a solid excuse as to why they'd been late, but they'd been too busy enjoying one another…and then spent the trek into the woods reminiscing. The burden had fallen on Carol, and he chided himself for that.

This is on both of you. It was both of your asses in that bed this mornin'…

Daryl could feel his mouth going dry. Just thinking about that bed…about how it felt to have her warm body so close to his…her soft, supple ass pressed to his groin when he woke up.

For fuck's sake. That ain't helpin'…

The absolute last thing he needed was an erection. Carol wouldn't be able to smooth-talk him out of that one. Growling under his breath, Daryl pushed himself away from the tree and slowly began to pace. He didn't let himself make eye contact with anyone.

"Couple of us already have jobs, but she wants to find roles for everyone in our group. That's how things work around here. We sit down, answer her questions…then she finds somethin' she thinks would be a good fit." said Rick.

"Sayin' it's all up to her?" Daryl asked as he continued to pace.

"I'm guessin' she talks it over with her husband…maybe a couple other folks. But it's ultimately up to her." the deputy explained.

"Woman must have some sense…making you and Michonne the law around here." Carol smirked at her leader.

Rick sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I gotta be honest; that threw me off. It still does."

"It's strange." Michonne added. "Handing power over to people she barely knows. I don't know that I would've gone that route."

"She's got an angle. Just don't know what it is yet." said Rick.

"Ain't any stranger than her handin' over empty houses." the hunter growled.

"I know. I've been tryin' to figure that out since we got here. But we need to focus now. Can't be gone long. She figures out we're all missing…things could get complicated." said the deputy.

"Go on then." Daryl snapped. "Ya'll got ideas…let's hear 'em."

"Maggie's been spending a lot of time with her. I think that give us an advantage." said Glenn.

"She find out anything good?" Carol asked.

Huddled together in the woods, the survivors discussed strategy. They had no intentions of being taken unawares by any of Alexandria's residents. They took turns sharing what they'd learned about Deanna, her family, and some of the less than welcoming neighbors.

Daryl and Carol interjected when necessary. They nodded, made eye contact with their friends, and did their absolute best to maintain some semblance of normalcy. To anyone observing, their actions wouldn't have seemed out of place. But every so often, they were drawn to one another.

A slight breeze blew past, carrying Daryl's scent, and she had to see him. She lifted her chin for half a heartbeat, her blue eyes flicking to his face. He could sense her watching him, and he met her gaze, holding it for several seconds…but not long enough for anyone to notice. That was all they allowed themselves to do…steal subtle glances. When visions of their time together surfaced in their minds, the lovers were forced to blink the images away. It wasn't the time or the place to relive their intimacy. Ignoring their cravings for one another, Daryl and Carol forced themselves to focus. The group needed them.

---

"It's fine." she said, speaking softly to herself. "You look fine."

Carol sighed and drummed her fingers on the edge of the sink. She'd been standing in front of the mirror for the last fifteen minutes, appraising her reflection and obsessing over every detail. She wasn't vain; she never had been. She'd never wanted anyone to notice her. But this was different…her appearance had become important. Carol had a role to play.

A week had passed since the survivors met in the woods. They'd agreed that it was too soon to let the Alexandrians in. With that understanding, Rick's group made every effort to conceal their true tendencies. They kept their heads down, working hard on any task that Deanna and her people assigned to them. They kept their answers polite, but brief, whenever Alexandrians asked them about their experiences outside the walls. Less was more, and Carol liked it that way.

But maintaining a charade was taxing, physically and emotionally. Forcing the fake smiles, and shaking hands with new people everyday had Carol's patience wearing thin. Occasionally, when some empty-headed housewife stood chatting next to her in the line for rations at the communal pantry, Carol could feel herself slipping. Her hand instinctively reached for the heavy knife that used to hang from a loop on her belt…but the weapon wasn't there. She hated having to listen to the Alexandrians prattle on about their non-problems, but she never let her true feelings show. Instead; she smiled, laughed at jokes that weren't funny, and pretended to be excited about swapping recipes with her neighbors.

Normally, Carol had the luxury of taking off her mask at the end of the day. She could shrug off her cardigan…the way a snake sheds it's skin, and slip back into the cool familiarity of her true self once she was safe within the house Rick's group had been given. She could stand beneath the warm spray of the shower, letting the water roll down her spine until she finally felt cleansed of the person she had to be during the day. And when every last trace of the mild-mannered homemaker had been scrubbed from her body, she could pad down the hall, taking silent, practiced footsteps, and retreat to the safety of Daryl's room. With the door locked and the lights out, she enjoyed her lover's body, colliding with him over and over until they were both weak.

But tonight was different. She wasn't naked in the shower and she wasn't wrapped around Daryl. Somehow, the survivors had reached the two-week mark. They'd been inside the walls of Alexandria, without causing or witnessing any major disasters, for fourteen days. Carol still wasn't sure how they'd managed it, but they had. To celebrate that achievement, Deanna and her people decided that a party was in order. Carol shook her head slowly and pinched the bridge of her nose.

She had absolutely no desire to spend an entire evening surrounded by fake friends and neighbors. It was hard enough to pretend to like them during the day. But she didn't have much of a choice. As far as Rick was concerned, the party was Deanna's way of extending an olive branch. She seemed to have accepted them, at least for the time being, and they couldn't exactly snub the invitation. Sighing, Carol resigned herself to the fact that she needed to go. They all needed to go.

So she'd thrown on a dark green sweater, smoothing the fabric half a dozen times. She'd ironed a pair of khaki slacks and even spent several minutes attempting to style her hair. As she stood in front of the mirror, critiquing herself, Carol concluded that the woman reflected on the smooth surface of the glass looked normal enough. She forced her small, trademark smile and clasped her hands politely in front of her stomach… practicing.

She stared hard at her likeness, taking note of her stance…her posture, even her eyes. Carol was a good liar. She'd survived ten hellish years of marriage by lying…hiding. She knew how to adapt, to blend in and disappear in a crowded room. She knew exactly how to smile…how hard to laugh and how often. It was an art-form that she'd been perfecting for her entire adult life…a survival technique. She was confident in her ability to step into someone else's skin, and there were no cracks in her armor…except one. Her eyes.

Carol cocked her head to the side as she studied herself.

Your eyes will give you away.

It was her only cause for concern. As convincing as her charade was, Carol sometimes worried that her mask would slip, if only for an instant. She couldn't shake the irrational fear that someone would meet her gaze, and hold it long enough to see past her front. She'd always been told that her eyes were her most striking feature, and they were her sole source of pride as far as physical appearances went, but Carol didn't want to draw unnecessary attention. She carried a lifetime of sadness, regret, and impossible decisions behind those eyes, and couldn't afford to let anyone see it. She couldn't let the Alexandrians know who she really was…what she'd done.

Carol blew out a breath. "You're being ridiculous."

The words were true…but hollow. A chill moved through her at the mere thought of discovery.

They can't know.

Carol's eyes were fixed on the glass, on the woman staring back at her. In the safety and isolation of the small bathroom, she could acknowledge the fact that she was looking at a hardened killer. She knew what it was to take a life…what it cost. The woman in the mirror had come back from places darker than Carol ever could've imagined. She'd survived, and she wasn't ashamed of the blood on her hands. She just couldn't let the Alexandrian's see it.

Bowing her head, Carol closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath.

You can do this.

When she lifted her chin, she felt better. Lighter. Glad that she'd mastered herself, Carol ran her fingers lightly through her hair one last time, making sure to get it just right. Finally satisfied with the person staring back at her, she breathed a small sigh of relief. The woman in the mirror was the very picture of domesticity…suburban complacency.

Harmless.

Carol smirked at her reflection before turning out the light and leaving the bathroom.

---

Daryl wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting on the porch, his back against the railing. The day had proven uneventful and he was left with time on his hands…time he'd rather not have. The hunter didn't like being idle. All it did was make him restless. He'd considered pulling Carol aside for some stress relief, as they'd taken to calling it, but the house had been crowded all day. If it wasn't Carl running up and down the stairs with Judith, it was Eugene and Tara arguing in the kitchen, or Abraham and Rick discussing strategy in the living room.

By the time early evening rolled around, Daryl was forced to accept that he and Carol wouldn't be getting any privacy. The inability to get a second alone with her only added to his irritation. Daryl knew he was being foolish. They were unattached adults. He could've just asked her to join him in his room. He wasn't sure why he hadn't. The hunter knew they weren't doing anything wrong. He guessed there was some part of him that wasn't ready to explain if anyone asked why he and Carol were stepping into a room together and locking the door. That bothered him.

Sighing, Daryl questioned his actions.

Your ass could be in there right now…with her. You could have that woman underneath ya. But you're here…on this damn porch…feelin' sorry for yourself.

As he sat in his corner, arguing with himself, twilight gave way to early evening. The sun disappeared below the horizon line, dragging its color away. Burning streaks of pink and orange seemed to melt into a deep, endless blue. Warm air grew cooler and Daryl stared out at the neighboring houses.

He could see men and women, families emerging from their homes. Friends passed each other on the sidewalk, waving and smiling as they went. He brought his thumb to his mouth and chewed the nail as he rolled his eyes.

We're livin' in fuckin' Mayberry.

His narrowed eyes followed the Alexandrians as they made their way down the street. They seemed to be heading in the same direction. Daryl knew where they were going, but he had no plans to follow.

Rick and the others had mentioned the party several times throughout the day. They were skeptical, and rightfully so, but the deputy believed it was best if they all attended. The group had learned that arguing with their leader was usually a waste of time, and no one wanted to pick that fight. So they'd nodded, like sheep, and agreed to go. All except Daryl.

The hunter stayed quiet and kept to himself, hoping that Rick would just overlook the fact that he wasn't getting ready.

They don't need me there.

He had one leg sprawled in front of him. The other was raised and bent at the knee. As he continued to chew his nail, Daryl let his other arm rest on his raised knee. He was searching the recesses of his mind for possible excuses in case any of his fellow survivors asked him why he wasn't going.

Could say ya wanna keep an eye on the house.

But Daryl knew that wouldn't hold water. He spat out a nail fragment and sighed. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. The hunter looked up in time to see Rick, Carl and Carol step out the front door. The deputy was carrying his daughter on his hip.

Daryl looked the three figures up and down. They'd each had showers, from the looks of things, and he could tell they were wearing their best clothes. Rick and Carl were sporting button-downs…the boy seemed to have taken a comb to his hair. Daryl snorted, wondering who they were trying to impress.

"Daryl?" the deputy glanced to his right, noticing the hunter. "How long you been out here?"

Daryl shrugged and refused to make eye contact. "A while."

"Aren't you coming?" Carl asked as he stood beside his father.

"Nah." the hunter growled.

Rick hefted his daughter's weight and sighed. "Wish you would."

"Ya'll go on. I'm fine."

"Daryl…" Rick pleaded.

"Said go on."

Carl and his father exchanged glances, but neither was sure what to say. They didn't know how to convince the hunter to join them. Judith began to whimper.

"See? Ass kicker's gettin' pissed. Ya'll need to git." said Daryl.

Rick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're goin'…but this isn't over. You 'n me…" he pointed at the hunter. "We're gonna talk about this. Soon as I'm back."

Daryl glared at his leader but didn't speak.

The deputy held his friend's gaze for several more seconds before finally moving on down the porch steps. Carl followed, casting one last hopeful glance at the hunter over his shoulder. But Daryl just waved them on.

Carol lingered on the porch. There was a baking dish cradled in her arms. "You're really staying, huh?"

He eyed her long legs, the forest green sweater that fit her just right. The dark color made her eyes seem so blue. Her freckles even looked like they were glowing. The porch light created a soft halo around her.

"Daryl?"

The hunter blinked, trying to remember what she'd asked him.

"You're not going?"

He ran a hand through his tangled dark hair and shook his head. "Nah."

Carol drummed her fingers on the edge of the glass dish that she held. "Oh."

Daryl didn't know why she was still standing there. He'd made himself perfectly clear. It didn't matter how well her clothes fit…a green sweater and a pair of blue eyes weren't enough to sway him.

"Ya'll go. Meet the neighbors or whatever the hell ya'll are plannin' on doin'." he groused, looking away.

There was a tired smile on Carol's face as she stared down at her friend. It didn't seem to matter how much they'd gone through together, or the losses they'd suffered. They'd all changed, but every now and then, the temperamental boy inside Daryl would surface, making Carol shake her head.

Still throwing tantrums.

She idly wondered if his sour disposition had anything to do with the fact that they hadn't been alone together all day. Over the past week, she'd found that regular release did wonders for his attitude. He'd been keeping his temper in check, working well with the rest of the group, and contributing more. But one day…one measly day with no physical contact had turned him into a brat. There was something amusing about it and Carol had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"You need somethin'?" Daryl snapped, his expression sullen.

Carol didn't take the bait. She wasn't about to let his tone get under her skin. Instead, she released a small sigh and smiled at him. "No. Just wish you'd reconsider." With that, she turned away and headed down the porch steps. She forced herself to walk slowly, giving Daryl ample time to watch her leave.

The hunter might've been pissed at the world, but he still wanted his mate. His eyes were automatically drawn to her ass, and he watched in silent agony as she took the steps, one by one. He loved that ass. He wanted to touch it, grab it…have her naked on top of him. Growling under his breath, Daryl tried to curb his appetite…but it wasn't working.

Carol could feel him looking at her and she nearly chuckled. Pausing on the last step, she glanced at him over her shoulder. "I was really hoping I'd see you there." Without waiting for a response, she left the hunter to his sulking and continued on down the sidewalk.

The look she'd given him, just before leaving…it was making Daryl's head hurt. He knew that look. It was the expression she wore when she wanted him to fuck her. As he leaned back against the railing, Daryl could feel blood rushing to his groin. He chewed his thumbnail again and wondered if their lack of privacy was bothering her as much as it was bothering him.

Nah.

He dismissed the thought once…twice, but it seemed to resurface within seconds.

Godammitt.

With nothing more than a look, Carol managed to pique his interest. His cock was already getting hard.

"Christ…" he muttered to himself.

As much as he hated it, Daryl was forced to accept that Carol had a powerful hold on him. From the moment he first slid inside her, he'd grown addicted. It wasn't just a craving…he needed her. Everyday…her skin, her lips, her eyes, her body…all of it. Daryl wanted everything. He couldn't go without it.

Standing with a grunt, the hunter drew on his restraint and tried to keep himself from becoming fully erect. He turned, his hands curling angrily around the railing as he bowed his head and exhaled through his nose. So much need was churning inside him, but he had to control it. As he fought an internal battle, Daryl considered retreating to the safety of his room and relieving the tension on his own. There was a low rumble in his chest.

He was used to the feeling of her soft, warm hands…her tight, wet pussy… He knew he could get himself off, but it wouldn't be the same. He wanted to be with her…touching her. If anyone was going to make him come, it should be Carol.

The hunter snarled as he stood alone on the porch. His blunt nails were clawing the railing, scratching at the white paint. With his eyes slammed shut, he took several deep, measured breaths. The cool evening air seemed to help. It was calming as it pressed against his sweaty brow and bare arms. The fever was slowly dying inside him and he forced himself to relax. His brows knit together and his lips parted when he finally felt his cock going soft again. Blood returned to his brain and he gasped, easing his eyes open.

As he stared out at the surrounding houses, and watched street lamps flicker on, Daryl realized that he couldn't do it. He couldn't spend the entire night away from her. He needed her…his body needed her. Hungry for the woman who'd become his drug, Daryl stalked angrily away from the railing and jerked the front door open.

---

"It's okay." Carol said softly. She was standing in a corner with Sasha and the two women were speaking in hushed tones.

"It's not!" Sasha hissed.

"Look. It's one party…one night. You're doing fine. All we have to do is make some small talk, get through a few more hours of this, and we can go home." Carol placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"Everything that's going on out there..." said Sasha, a pained expression on her face as she remembered what it was like to live outside the walls. "With the world the way it is…these people are throwing cocktail parties?"

"I get it." Carol whispered. "The whole thing is bizarre. I swear, one of these women was talking to me about a pasta maker. She must've gone on about the damn thing for twenty minutes…"

Sasha rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, her eyes darting around the crowded living room. "I just…I don't understand. I can't do this…pretend. If one more person asks me about my hobbies, or my hometown…I'm gonna…"

"Easy." Carol said as she rubbed her friend's shoulder. "I know. These people…they're like sheep. They have no idea what's out there. We can't expect them to understand."

Sasha was getting restless in their corner. She wanted to leave…escape. She'd never felt so out of place. "I can't do this…" she repeated.

"Hey. Listen to me." Carol gripped the younger woman's shoulder a little harder. "Yes you can. Alright? I know you. You're strong, and you'll get through this. Remember; it's just small talk. Lie if you have to. How would any of these people know?"

Sasha swallowed hard and managed a nod.

"Okay?" Carol asked. "We good?"

"Yeah." she nodded again and blew out a breath. "I'm good. Thanks."

"Alright then. Should we head back out there?" Carol gestured to the party going on all around them.

"Yeah."

With that, the two women emerged from their corner and melted back into the crowd. They parted ways, but not before giving each other one more knowing glance. Sensing that the younger woman would be alright, Carol headed towards the refreshments.

As she moved through the room, she made mental notes of the party guests…who was where…who was talking to whom. She caught familiar faces in the periphery of her vision. Glenn and Maggie were seated side by side on a small sofa, his hand was resting on her knee as they smiled and conversed with another young couple. She heard Abraham's voice cutting through the clamor as he engaged in some sort of debate with Eugene.

So far so good. Seems like everyone's doing fine.

The party had been in full swing for an hour, and Carol hadn't witnessed any outbursts, from her own people or the Alexandrians. She wondered if they were truly getting along, or if the amiability was the result of alcohol.

Social lubricant.

Carol smirked to herself when she finally reached her destination. She'd been hesitant to partake in any of the beverages being offered. She needed to stay on her toes…keep her eyes open. But as the evening progressed, her reservations began to fade. She realized that she could enjoy a glass of wine and still be the most vigilant person in the room.

It's not going to hurt anything.

Confident in her ability to maintain awareness, Carol paused in front of a table where several wine bottles, and rows of clean glasses had been arranged. She'd been eyeing her options for a few minutes when someone approached.

"Carol? Right?"

She turned to find a man standing just to her right. His face was familiar. Stephen. Carol had spoken with him on a few occasions. He was one of the people in charge of Alexandria's meager arsenal, which made him significant in Carol's opinion.

She gave him a warm smile. "Yeah. Stephen?"

He smiled back and slid one hand into his pocket. "Yeah."

From their brief conversations, Carol had learned that he was a widower. Mid-forties. No kids. He'd been a paper-pusher for some insurance company before the turn. She had no earthly idea why someone who had probably never even shot a gun would be given dominion over Alexandria's weapons. Carol sized him up the moment they met, and she knew he wasn't dangerous. If she had to guess, she'd say he hadn't killed any walkers this entire time. As she continued to smile at him, Carol knew he wouldn't last a day on his own outside the walls.

He's meat.

"You brought the brownies." he said.

"I did."

"Just thought I'd tell you how good they were."

She pretended to blush as she lowered her gaze. "Thanks. Did the best I could."

"Well. On behalf of all of us here…thank you."

Carol chuckled and let her gaze drift to the wine bottles.

"Were you gonna have some?" Stephen asked.

"I was thinking about it." she admitted.

"What's the hold-up?" he teased, his arms folding across his chest.

Carol tucked a small piece of hair behind her ear and smiled at him. "It's been a long time since I've had to make this kind of decision. Wasn't sure where to start."

Stephen studied the bottles; there were five different options. "Well; maybe I can help."

She lowered her hands and let her fingertips rest lightly on the edge of the table. "How so?"

"I could help you narrow it down. Just to get the ball rolling."

"You know your stuff?" she asked, smirking a little.

It was Stephen's turn to chuckle. "Wouldn't call myself an expert but…"

"Well then I'm not sure I can trust your judgment."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "How about this? We at least narrow it down to red or white."

She bit the corner of her lip and thought about it. "Fine. But you make the call."

"Me?" he laughed, one hand going to his hip.

Carol paused before letting her eyes flick to his face. There was a small smile on her lips as she held his gaze for several seconds. "Which do you think I'd enjoy more?"

Stephen paced slowly in front of the table and eyed the different bottles before refocusing on Carol. "Tough call."

"Come on." she teased. "If you had to guess."

He rubbed his jaw, letting his gaze linger on Carol.

"I'm waiting." she said.

Stephen smiled at her. "Fine. A white."

She nodded, a light laugh escaping her. "You think so?"

"I do. And…" he added as he reached for one of the bottles.

Carol waited patiently, her hands clasped behind her back.

"I think I know which white you should start with." He grunted as he uncorked the chardonnay.

"You've got it all figured out." she chuckled.

Stephen shrugged and grabbed a clean glass. "Maybe."

"Seems like you do." Carol smirked.

He did his best to focus as he poured her drink. When he'd finished, Stephen carefully offered her the glass.

She took it, letting their fingers brush for an instant. "Thank you."

"Just glad I could help."

Carol lifted the glass and took a small sip. Her face lit up when the liquid hit her tongue. "That…was an excellent choice. Again; thank you."

"Not a problem." he smiled.

She tapped her fingers lightly on the edge of her glass. "Mind If I ask why?"

"Why what?

"The chardonnay." she said, taking another sip.

Stephen shrugged again, both hands going into his pockets.

"You must've had a reason." said Carol.

"Well…if you really want to know…"

"I do." she insisted, her blue eyes trained on him.

He rubbed his jaw again and tried to find the words he needed. "It's sweet. Goes down easy."

"Go on." Carol urged, her delicate hands cradling the glass.

A hint of color appeared in Stephen's face. "Um…it's light…and…" he made himself meet her gaze before uttering his next words. "It's refreshing."

"You clearly think a lot of it."

He nodded, a soft smile on his face. "I do."

Carol took another sip and studied him over the rim of her glass. When she'd finished, she gestured at the bottles. "Were you going to have one?"

"That depends."

"On what?" she asked.

"On whether or not you mind the company."

"I don't mind at all." said Carol.

"Alright then. As long as you're sure." He chuckled and moved to pour himself a glass of chardonnay.

While he was occupied, Carol turned away and cast a quick glance around the room.

You're doing fine. Just keep him talking.

She sipped her wine and winced a little. Carol hated chardonnay. It was too sweet, too bubbly…a headache in a glass as far as she was concerned. She tried to ignore the taste it left in her mouth.

As she surveyed the living room, she couldn't help but to be a little bit awestruck by Stephen's inability to see what was directly in front of him.

Men see what they wanna see.

Carol wasn't dense; she knew that Stephen's interest in her was less than innocent. She knew what he saw when he looked at her. A possible partner… She snorted a little at the thought. All she saw when she looked at him was an opportunity…someone who could get her closer to all the firearms Alexandria had to offer. He cleared his throat suddenly and she turned back around to face him.

"Mind if we sit down?" he asked. "We could move this to the couch."

"Sure." she smiled. "That sounds great."

Keeping her mask on, Carol let him lead her back across the room, towards the sofa where Glenn and Maggie were still seated. All the while, her true self…the woman hidden beneath the green sweater and polite conversation, was silently scoffing at Stephen's wine selection. She couldn't believe he had her pegged as someone who preferred whites to reds, but that was nothing more than a testament to her camouflage. The kind-hearted widower didn't have the slightest idea who he was dealing with. How could he know that she only drank reds? She allowed herself a tiny sigh of frustration, but kept her smile in place.

It's always cabernet.

---

"We don't know what we'd do without her." said Glenn.

Stephen chuckled.

"He's just being nice." said Carol as she reached out to pat Glenn's leg.

"I'm sure that's not true." Stephen smiled at her.

"It is." Carol insisted. "Really. I'm the lucky one. They were kind enough to take me in back when things first fell apart, and they've been looking out for me ever since."

Maggie and Glenn exchanged glances.

"You all seem like a close-knit group." the widower added.

"Well; we certainly are that." said Carol as she gave Glenn's knee one last pat.

The four companions had been sitting on the sofa, making small talk for nearly twenty minutes. Somehow, Carol managed to make it through her entire glass of wine. Despite the fact that Stephen had been sitting on her left, and Glenn on her right, Carol's attention had been torn between her friends, and the rest of the party. She couldn't afford to place all of her focus on one thing. While Stephen shared trivial details concerning his life within the walls of Alexandria, Carol looked casually across the room and noticed Rick disappearing into the kitchen with Jessie.

She made sure to laugh when it was appropriate and maintain the illusion of interest in her companion's conversation, but she would not allow anything to escape her notice. In one corner of the crowded room, Deanna and her husband seemed to be chatting with Michonne. It struck Carol as odd, since Michonne had never been a woman of many words. She forced herself to ignore the nagging feeling for the time being.

Her blue eyes followed Gabriel and Spencer as they moved through the room and headed towards the front door. She wondered what the two men would be discussing out on the porch. Every few minutes, she'd sipped her wine dutifully. No matter how many faces and voices were demanding her attention, Carol remained acutely aware of the presence of Glenn and Maggie at her side. She knew the two young people weren't as practiced in the art of deception, and she worried that one of them would slip if Stephen happened to ask the wrong question…if he tried to delve into the lives they'd lead before reaching Alexandria.

"Can I top that off for you?"

Carol blinked before following Stephen's gaze. He was eyeing the empty glass in her hands.

"Oh; sure. Thank you." She smiled warmly and let him take the glass..

"I'll be right back." He stood slowly and rounded the couch as he made his way back to the refreshment table.

The instant he was out of earshot, Carol turned to face her friends.

"What are you doing?" Glenn asked in a rough whisper.

She licked her lips and tried to remain level-headed. "Nothing. I'm just getting to know him. That's all."

Maggie's brows knit together. "Why? You really think he's buyin' into all this?" She gestured at Carol's outfit.

"Because he's one of the people in charge of the arsenal. Only him and two other people have keys to that building. And yes. I think he is buying into all this."

Understanding washed over the young people. Carol could see that they'd put the pieces together and she held up her hands. "Get it now?"

Glenn rubbed his neck anxiously. "They've still got our weapons in there."

"Glad we're on the same page." Carol quipped.

Maggie grabbed her husband's hand. "You thinkin' we're gonna need 'em soon?"

"Jesus. I hope not." Glenn sighed. "I feel like we're doing good for now. They haven't given us a reason to want our weapons back. Everything has been fine so far…"

Carol's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't mean things are going to stay fine."

"What are you saying?" Maggie asked.

"I'm saying…that we all know how quickly things can go south. I don't want that. No one does. But if it happens; I don't plan on throwing my hands up and letting these people back me into a corner." Carol hissed.

Glenn ran his free hand through his hair.

"I think she's right." said Maggie.

The young man glanced at his wife.

"Maybe we don't need guns right now. But I'd sleep better knowin' we have 'em…just in case. All we got in that house is a set of steak knives." she whispered.

"Look," said Carol. "I know you two aren't exactly comfortable with this. I don't blame you. Having to be someone else…" she paused, considering her next words. "It's difficult, but sometimes it's necessarry. I'm doing this for all of us. I don't want us to be defenseless if something goes wrong here. He'll be back in a second; I'll keep working on him. Why don't the two of you work the crowd, maybe get some food?"

Glenn and Maggie studied one another.

"Really. I'll be fine here." Carol insisted.

"Fine." said the younger woman as she stood and rubbed some of the numbness from her legs. "C'mon."

Glenn followed suit and the young couple began to walk away. "We'll head back around in a bit." he called over his shoulder.

But Carol just smiled and waved them on. As if on cue, Stephen reappeared and offered her a fresh glass.

She took it carefully from his hand and their fingers touched again.

"Your friends leave?" he asked before easing down onto the couch.

"I told them to." she smiled.

"Oh…" Stephen couldn't hide the look of pleasant surprise on his face.

"Yeah. I didn't want them to feel like they needed to stay with me. They should be mingling…enjoying themselves."

"They seem like great people."

"They are." she chuckled before sipping her wine.

"But… I can't say that I'm sorry to see them go."

Carol paused, glancing at him. He was smiling at her. His eyes were green, and he had salt and pepper hair. He had a decent build, nothing spectacular. But Carol supposed he wasn't bad looking. As they sat on the couch together, she tried to remember the last time she'd done this sort of thing.

Flirt…

She nearly laughed at the thought.

Would've been before Ed.

That seemed like a lifetime ago. She continued to stare at her companion who was staring back at her. Carol guessed she should be flattered by his interest in her. For half a heartbeat, she wondered if her feelings towards him would be different if things hadn't progressed between her and Daryl. But she dismissed that thought the moment it surfaced.

No. Even then…no.

Carol didn't need anybody. She hadn't planned on engaging in any sort of romantic relationship with anyone. What happened in the kitchen with Daryl…it was heat and spontaneity. If they hadn't given into one another, Carol would've been perfectly content to live out the rest of her days without letting another man touch her. And even if she did find herself in need of companionship…she knew she could never be with someone like Stephen.

He's too trusting. Easily lead. He'd be useless outside the walls.

She couldn't bind herself to someone so gullible. Remembering her objective, Carol cleared her throat and set her glass on the coffee table.

"Oh really?" she asked.

"Really."

"And why is that?"

He drummed his fingers on his leg before answering her. "Maybe I just wanted you to myself for a while." He lowered his gaze, unable to look her in the eye.

Carol slowly leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. She brought one hand up to support her chin as she glanced sideways at Stephen.

"You did?" she asked, a smile on her lips.

He blew out a breath and finally met her gaze. "Is that terrible of me?"

She bit the corner of her bottom lip and shook her head. "No. It's not."

---

Daryl kept his head down as he walked. His hands were thrust into his pockets and he had to force himself to keep going. With every step, he seemed to have an internal argument.

Just turn back. This ain't you.

"I fuckin' know it ain't." he muttered under his breath.

That's the last thing your ass needs…one of these pricks seein' ya talkin' to yourself.

Daryl growled and kept walking.

You even thought about what you're gonna do when ya get there?

He sighed through his nose. The hunter hadn't really given himself a chance to think it through. After his brief struggle on the porch, he'd gone back into the house, sorted through his belongings, and then taken what he needed into the downstairs bathroom.

As he'd stripped away the layers, Daryl couldn't help but to think back to the first time he'd used that shower. The night that he and Carol discovered one another… He remembered how he felt. His legs had been numb…his entire body weak with pleasure. But she'd moved into his space, gripping his manhood….making him come again. Her breasts had been so soft and slick with water…

It had taken all of Daryl's willpower to force those images from his mind as he undressed. He didn't need to get wound up thinking about her. He had somewhere to be. So he'd gritted his teeth, stepped out of his ratty pants and unbuttoned his shirt. Closing his eyes, the hunter stepped into the shower.

As the warm water plastered his hair to his brow and temples, Daryl lathered his hands and did his best to scrub every last trace of sweat and dirt from his body. He nearly gave in and touched himself, but he was stronger than that. Focusing on his mission, the hunter washed his hair, his body, and made every effort to keep his hands away from his groin.

The rings holding up the shower curtain made a clinking noise when Daryl finally pushed it aside and stepped onto the cold floor. He could feel droplets clinging to his scruff and the ends of his hair. He'd snatched a small towel from the rack and clumsily worked to dry off. Once the steam had cleared, and Daryl was able to make out his reflection in the oval mirror above the sink, he made a silent promise.

He was going to be with Carol. One way or another. He didn't care if she was at a party, surrounded by friends and strangers. He wanted her. So he pulled a clean pair of cargo pants up his legs and donned a fresh shirt. It wasn't anything special. Daryl didn't have any grand illusions regarding his appearance. Carol seemed to approve of him, and that's all that mattered. He just wanted her to see that he'd made an effort. He'd cleaned up, in his own way, and hoped that would count for something. Once he'd finished buttoning his shirt, the hunter took one last look at his reflection. He ran a hand through his tangled hair in an attempt to comb it, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. Daryl smirked at himself thinking it didn't matter, Carol had a habit of pulling it.

Need had driven him to where he was now; making his way down the sidewalk, towards the party. That was the only thing he was sure of…his need for his mate. But it occurred to Daryl that he was completely clueless as to how to go about getting her. Desire wouldn't be enough. He had to have a plan. The realization agitated him and he growled again.

Think you're just gonna walk in there and throw her on the damn ground? That it?

He turned up the collar of his jacket against the evening chill and kept walking. Daryl wasn't good with plans. He was reactive. Things tended to strike him in the moment, and he'd let his temper make decisions for him on more occasions than he'd like to admit.

Can't be doin' that shit now.

Carol was right. He shouldn't be drawing unnecessary attention to himself. But Daryl knew he could never pretend to be someone else. Not the way Carol did it. Releasing a heavy sigh, the hunter decided that the best course of action would be to say at little as possible.

Just go in there, find her. Anybody talks to you…keep your answers short. First chance ya get; see if she's up for leavin'. House is empty. It'd just be the two of ya if ya got back there.

That thought was intriguing. They'd never had the house entirely to themselves.

Ya'll could be as loud as ya want.

It was all the motivation Daryl needed. He picked up the pace, eager to reach his destination.

---

"Hey brother. Glad you made it!" Abraham reached out to clap Daryl on the back. "Thought your ass wasn't gonna show."

Daryl lingered awkwardly on the porch and shrugged. "Jus figured…might look bad. One of us missin'."

Abraham took a long drag on his cigar. "Would it kill ya to admit your ass mighta been the least bit curious 'bout all this." he gestured at the front door and the party going on just behind it.

The hunter glared at his friend. "Jus some bullshit to get our guards down."

"Jesus Christ…" said Abraham, his eyes rolling. "Every goddamn bastard ain't out for blood. Alright? Look at this." He held the cigar carefully between his thumb and forefinger. "They got smokes…shit…they got decent beer."

"That all it takes to convince ya?" the hunter asked sarcastically.

Abraham took another drag before rubbing his neck. "Didn't say I was convinced. Just don't see nothin' wrong with enjoyin' myself. Figure I've earned it. We all have. Ya oughtta go on in there and get yourself a drink."

Daryl had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from growling. Knowing that more conversation would only aggravate him, he turned away and reached for the doorknob.

"Maybe you can see about gettin' that stick outta your ass while you're at it." Abraham called out.

The hunter stiffened for a moment and cast the man a dirty look over his shoulder. He forced himself to keep moving and swallowed hard as he pulled the door open and stepped over the threshold.

Noise and light spilled out of the house the instant Daryl opened door. He blinked and nearly raised a hand to shield his eyes. Desperately hoping that no one noticed him, the hunter eased the door shut and stood in the main entryway.

Fuck.

He glanced quickly around the crowded room, trying to assess the situation. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits. He could hear laughter, a dozen different conversations, and music playing softly underneath it all. Glasses were raised, smiles were shared…turning strangers into friends.

The hunter's eyes were narrowed as he took in the scene. He would've been out of place at a party even before the turn. Getting together for drinks and appetizers seemed even more bizarre with living corpses snarling just outside the community's walls. But Daryl had to remind himself that the Alexandrians were different. Their exposure to the outside world had been limited.

They're jus tryin' to hold on to what they had before.

The whole thing still struck him as ridiculous, and an utter waste of resources, but it wasn't his call. The hunter was just a guest who'd permeated the Alexandrian bubble, and now had to adapt to what he'd found inside.

A goddamn cocktail party.

Sighing, he took another look around and tried to spot a familiar face. He had no idea what he was supposed to do…or how he was supposed to do it. As he stood in the entryway, his hands dipped back into his pockets. Daryl was painfully aware of the fact that he didn't belong there. He guessed he had as much of a right to attend as anyone, but it didn't matter. He wasn't social, he wasn't overly friendly, and he couldn't even begin to guess what he'd say if someone tried to lure him into a conversation.

Awkward, vulnerable, and with his gut twisting, the hunter finally began to move into the room. He tried desperately keep his head down and convince himself that he was invisible. Whenever he happened to brush past someone, he mumbled 'pardon,' and continued on without making eye contact. He'd nearly made it to the opposite end of the room when he heard his own name.

"Daryl?" Glenn asked as he approached his friend.

The hunter allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing here?"

Daryl shrugged. "I ain't really figured that out yet."

Glenn smiled. "Well; the important thing is you came."

The hunter brought a thumbnail to his mouth and chewed it.

"You want a beer? They're actually cold."

"I guess."

"Here." Glenn handed over the bottle he'd been holding. "Just grabbed one from the kitchen. You take it; I'll go get another one for me."

"Naw. Ya ain't gotta."

"It's fine. I'm just glad you showed."

Daryl accepted the offering and marveled for a moment at the feeling of a chilled bottle in his hand. "Fore ya go…" he growled softly.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna tell me how all this has been goin'?" Daryl gestured vaguely at the rest of the living room.

Glenn folded his arms across his chest and shrugged. "I mean…fine I guess. It's weird but…"

"Glad I ain't the only one thinks so."

"Things seem to be going well. As far as impressions go. I think these people might actually trust us."

"Ya sure?" Daryl asked.

"Looks that way. Wouldn't say I'm completely convinced but…I don't know. I think this could work."

The hunter eyed the partygoers before refocusing on his friend. "And if it don't?"

The younger man sighed. "We'll just have to be ready. Carol's working on that."

Daryl took a sip of his beer while his brows knit together.

"She's making nice with the right people." Glenn explained.

"Sounds like her."

"I don't know how she does it." said Glenn, his head shaking slowly.

"Ya seen her. Woman can turn into someone else 'fore ya can blink."

"I know. It just…freaked me out a little to watch it happen. I'm pretty sure she's gonna have this guy Stephen wrapped around her finger by the end of the night."

Daryl's grip tightened suddenly on the glass bottle and his eyes became two cold slits. "Stephen?"

Glenn leaned into the hunter's space and kept his voice down. "He works at the arsenal."

The hunter could feel the hairs at the base of his neck standing up.

"Carol's been working him for the last half hour. She thinks it's our best shot at getting into that building…getting our weapons back."

Daryl blinked a few times, trying to process what Glenn was saying. He was clutching the bottle so tightly that his hand hurt. "Workin' him?" he growled under his breath.

"Flirting. It's kind of amazing to watch this guy buy into it. She's got him completely snowed. Part of me feels bad for him."

The hunter felt a twinge of pain between his eyes, and bile seemed to rise in the back of his throat.

"But she knows what she's doing. So I guess it's for the best. Hey; I'll be back. I'm just gonna go grab another beer. Need anything from the kitchen?"

All Daryl could do was shake his head.

"You should find Rick. He'd be glad to see you." said Glenn as he smiled and turned away.

The hunter leaned back against the nearest wall, the beer still clutched tightly in his broad hands. He was uncomfortably warm and there seemed to be a dull pounding in his skull. All he could think about was what Glenn had told him.

She's workin' some guy…

Those four simple words made his stomach churn. Anger was already festering, hot and bitter inside him…filling him up until it reached his eyes and all he could see was red. In that instant, Daryl hated everyone and everything in the room. The mere presence of other people seemed to make his skin itch and he wanted so badly to get away. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he considered smashing the bottle he held.

Naw. Makin' a scene ain't gonna help nothin'.

But the hunter wasn't sure he possessed the amount of self control it would take to remain civil if he stayed at the party. He'd been on edge before he even walked through the door. Quietly seething, he lifted the bottle and took a sip. The simple motion was difficult; his arm felt stiff…knotted with tension. Even cold beer, something Daryl never thought he'd enjoy again, wasn't helping. His entire mood had soured within a matter of minutes and the liquid just left a bad taste in his mouth.

As the seconds ticked past, the hunter swore he could feel raw anger coursing through his frame…silent alarms that made his nerve endings vibrate. A single thought filled his head, and it was more than he could handle.

Carol and another guy.

Daryl was clinging to a thin, flimsy sliver of rationality, and it was the only thing keeping him against that wall.

She ain't mine.

He wasn't prepared for the very immediate impact the realization was having on him. There was a sudden cold, sick feeling low in his belly and his hand seemed to go limp. He nearly dropped the bottle. The pounding in his skull grew worse. He knew the words were true…but he didn't want them to be.

For the last week, the two of them had seized every opportunity to be alone together. The minute she stepped into his room at night, they would tear at each other's clothes until they were both naked. He'd had her against the wall, on the floor… There wasn't a part of her that he hadn't touched. They explored each other freely, eagerly. Daryl almost felt that he'd memorized the sound of her moans and the feeling of her hands on his skin. He didn't want to lose those things.

But they'd never discussed boundaries, or bothered to put a name on what was happening between them at night. Neither of them had ever said that the arrangement was exclusive. They were both free, essentially. Daryl had to remind himself of his surroundings and keep a low growl from sliding through his teeth.

The thought of Carol with another man was slowly eating away at him like acid. He couldn't stomach it…someone else seeing her naked…someone else's hands all over her. The hunter was trembling as he glared out at nothing. His fist curled around the neck of the bottle, turning his knuckles white. The sensations rioting inside him were painful and unfamiliar. The combination of jealousy, rage, panic and uncertainty was taking a heavy toll. Daryl could almost feel the weight of it on his shoulders, making him weak.

While he struggled to determine his next moves, the partygoers continued to enjoy themselves all around him. Their laughter only seemed to add to his frustration. He ran his free hand through his hair, tugging weakly at the messy locks. He swallowed hard and tried to clear his head.

You can leave.

It was tempting. The hunter even managed to push himself away from the wall. He turned to head back the way he'd come. His eyes cut through the crowd and he focused on the door…his escape. Daryl knew relief was seconds away. All he had to do was get out…leave all the meaningless noise behind him. No one would even notice if he kept his head down.

Just as he took his first painful step towards the entryway, a familiar sound caught his attention. He stood stock-still and focused, trying to pick it out of the surrounding din. Not even a second later he heard it again. It was her…her laughter, ringing out clear and bright, making every other sound fade away. Daryl wanted to ignore it. He wanted to stay on course and slip out…but that laugh was a shining hook in his back, keeping him rooted to the spot.

He knew Carol was a talented actress, but he couldn't help but to think that her laughter sounded genuine. The hunter didn't like the idea of anyone else making her laugh, not that he considered himself to be particularly funny, but they'd had their share of laughs in bed together. As much as Daryl loved being with her…inside her…it wasn't just the sex that had kept him in a good mood for the past week. He found that he liked spending time with her, even if they were just talking. The way that she looked at him afterwards, when they were both lying in bed breathless and glowing…it gave him such an incredible sense of peace and satisfaction.

He liked talking to her as they came down from their highs. There was something surreal about lying next to someone who actually cared how his day went, and who never failed to ask. Whenever he shared something with Carol, no matter how trivial, she always placed all of her focus on him. She looked at him like he was the only person in the world.

Daryl had never been the type to need much attention…until she started giving it to him. He'd grown used to the feeling of her body next to his when he fell asleep at night. He needed her time, her company, her attention. Feeling weak and ridiculous, he realized that he couldn't leave. At the very least, he needed to meet Stephen for himself. Clenching his fist and straightening his back, Daryl turned around and followed the sound of Carol's laughter.

---

Stay tuned for more!

-Sami