A/N: Don't own (although I'd love to have my very own Norman Reedus :D) don't sue!

Lyrics are from 'Rain' by Patty Griffin

Rain

Chapter Twenty

It's hard to listen to a hard, hard heart
Beatin' close to mine
Poundin' up against the stone and steel
Walls that I won't climb
Sometimes a hurt is so deep, deep, deep
You think that you're gonna drown
Sometimes all I can do is weep, weep, weep
With all this rain fallin' down
Strange, how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain
It's hard to know when to give up the fight
Some things you want will just never be right
It's never rained like it has tonight before
Now, I don't wanna beg you, baby
For something maybe you could never give
I'm not lookin' for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live
Strange, how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holdin' on underneath this shroud
Rain

Rick blinked against the grittiness of his tired eyes, his brain slowly working through why he was lying wrapped in a blanket on the roof. He shot into a sitting position as the events of last night flooded his brain. He looked around the roof. Lochie was sitting in Cassidy's usual watch position, her back to him. Rather than reassuring him after he'd clearly abandoned his watch, a surge of guilt flooded over him. He was supposed to be protecting these people and he'd gone to sleep and left a child to take over. A child he had taken advantage of. He put his face in his hands. Maggie's voice startled him and he jumped to his feet.

"I'd stay up here where it's safe if I were you." Maggie advised drily. "Cassidy and Daryl are at it again."

By "it" she clearly meant they were in the middle of another argument. He crossed the roof and peered over the edge. They were a few feet away from them clearly disagreeing about something even if they hadn't raised their voices. Daryl had his arms folded over his chest and his back was rigid, Cassidy was gesturing a lot with her hands. Rick got the impression that if she had been able to reach something those gestures would have turned to rather impressive pitches in the general direction of Daryl's head.

"Apparently Cassidy doesn't want to take the bike in case they run out of fuel and have to ditch it and Daryl really doesn't want to leave it behind." Maggie informed them cheerfully, stifling a yawn.

Lochie snorted and rolled her eyes. She caught Rick's gaze and the amusement vanished as if she'd flipped a switch. He could see shyness warring with perplexity before she averted her eyes. Rick felt sick. What had he done to her? Maggie was looking at the two of them curiously and Rick cleared his dry throat, muttering something about speaking to Daryl before they left as he dashed for the exit.

Cassidy could feel his presence behind her, looming and angry. He was furious that he had had to part with his beloved bike, leaving it in quite untrustworthy hands, and he blamed her entirely. She wasn't too bothered, he'd get over it. They'd been following the road for the best part of an entire day by now and they'd seen nothing. A few abandoned cars, a walker or two but no sign of anywhere remotely habitable. She glanced up at the sky. It would be dark in a couple of hours. They should probably start looking for somewhere to camp. Pausing to throw the theory at him, she miscalculated her feet. Caught by surprise she stumbled forwards a step. Daryl, used to her graceful fluid movements had been eyeing her increasingly jerky progress blackly for the last few hours. She'd been trying to hide it by stalking out in front of him and if he hadn't been so observant she probably would have succeeded. He grabbed her elbow and propelled her onto a large relatively flat rock set a little into the trees.

"What're you-"

He cut her off with a glare and she sighed.

"My head hurts, that's all. It's nothing. It's still tender from being bounced off quite a few solid surfaces in that bunker."

This in no way reassured him, in fact his face got even grimmer. He pushed her head down so he could see her scalp, running rough probing fingertips over her delicate skin. When he was satisfied that her head was intact, he tilted her chin until he could look her directly in the eye. He stared at her intently, his dirty thumb soft against the delicate sensitive skin of her eyelids. He stared at her, so close she could see every silver fleck in his brilliant blue eyes, his surprisingly long lashes and the dirt and sweat engrained into his face. He touched her chin reprovingly and she managed to force her gaze back up from his pursed lips.

"I don't think you can see brain damage just by staring at me." She pointed out.

"Coulda scrambled your brains." He retorted flatly. "Tell me summat random."

"You're an overprotective pussy." She said immediately and he glowered.

"Well you didn't shake loose any hidden charm, anyway."

"Charm?" She snorted as he leaned away from her, rocking back on his heels. "I managed to charm you out of your jeans. Not that it took much."

"Likewise." He snapped.

"Hey I keep telling you, you're irresistible, redneck."

"And you're the kinda trouble my mamma warned me about."

She grinned.

"So are we going to sit on this rock all night?"

He pushed back into a standing position and squinted into the trees. She could see his brain working as he calculated the dangers of camping on the ground. She leant back against the rock, rather enjoying the way the waning sunlight splashed golden splotches across his bare arms, slick with sweat from their hiking. It still amazed her how just looking at him turned her stomach to liquid. She had had her share of boyfriends and boy toys and friends with benefits, but it had always been a brief flash of heat that had ebbed quickly. She didn't know if she was in love with him, she'd never been in love before but she figured she'd know if she was. That was what all the books and poems and songs said, right? She did know that he only had to crook a finger slightly in her direction and her knees would turn to water and her insides would somehow become as light as air. That whilst they had been separated the parts of her mind that weren't focusing on her survival would usually drift back to the image of him sleeping when she'd left. And she knew that if he asked her to just keep walking along this road for the rest of their probably short lives, she would. She leapt down from the rock and gave herself a shake.

"What?" He grunted when he realised she was staring at him.

"Nothing." She shrugged and he could have sworn she was blushing. "Just checking you out is all, you got a problem with that?"

He stared at her. She still looked exactly the same as she always had; red hair tumbling out of a messy topknot, green cat eyes staring fearlessly back at him, one hand on her slender hip, a sexy hint of cleavage peeking through the old wife-beater she had commandeered from his pack. It was one of Merle's actually but it looked much better on her. But there was something different. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. She seemed a little bit more real since her return. Before she had always been untouchable, an inaccessible beautiful half-wild creature he was never quite sure he could safely turn his back on.

"So we're sleeping up a tree, right?"

He blinked. She wasn't looking at him she was surveying the surrounding trees, apparently looking for the comfiest one. They didn't have a tent or anything just a ratty old blanket so setting up a shelter on the ground would just be dumb, even if they took it in turns to sleep.

"We've got about an hour before dark, let's see what we can find."

He turned and strode into the trees without waiting for her reply and she rolled her eyes at his departing back.

"You've been avoiding me."

Lochie's shoulders tensed but she didn't turn around. Rick had relented enough to allow them to search a small perimeter of the trees in groups. They had found a small stream a little way in and she had volunteered to fill every container they could find. Rick had found her on her third trip. He circled around to grab the other side of the metal bucket she was dragging with some difficulty.

"I didn't think you'd want the whole awkward "morning after" thing." Lochie told the ground as they hit a bumpy patch and the water sloshed dangerously against the sides of the bucket. "And I really don't think I have the stomach for the guilt trip you'll be on right now."

Rick looked taken aback at the harshness of her tone and he couldn't find anything to say until they were almost back to the shack.

"I didn't… I don't-"

"Look, Sheriff." Lochie let go of the bucket and swiped at the sweat on her forehead with her arm. "We had sex. The fact that it was great sex matters very little when you take into account the harpy you're married to. I could care less about Lori and whatever hurt feelings she'd have if she found out, but I know you're going to be tying yourself up in little twisty guilty knots about it and I just don't want to see it."

Rick stared at her.

"You sound like Cassidy when you're angry." He finally managed to get out.

"That's because she tells the truth when she's annoyed." Lochie pointed out. "You need to relax a bit, Sheriff. You get all worked up over stuff that really doesn't matter that much anymore. Yes we probably shouldn't have done it and yes we definitely shouldn't do it again, no matter how much we enjoyed it, but it's done and obsessing over it won't change that. Besides, she was jumping your best friend's bones practically on your grave, I think last night could be classed as nothing more than revenge. If that makes you feel better."

There were so many things wrong with that statement that they crammed up Rick's throat and he couldn't get a single one of them out. He wanted to tell her that he would never have used her like that, that he couldn't have even if he'd wanted to, but she was already dragging the bucket across the grass and he seemed to have no choice but to catch up and help.

"That's a shed."

"It's a hunting cabin."

"It's a shack. It's in even worse shape than the one we just vacated."

"It's a roof and four walls, Red. Beggars can't be choosers."

"Don't idiom me, redneck."

"Now you're just makin' words up."

"No it's called an education."

"You're pissin' me off, lady. Get inside."

"If this were a horror movie we'd be asking for it. Haven't you ever seen Evil Dead? Cabin Fever? Friday 13th? Sleepaway Camp?"

"Well I swear I'll protect you from any psychos, so as long as we don't drink the water or read any Latin shit we'll be alright. Get inside."

"Wow, Dixon. I'm impressed. There isn't much to do around here, huh? I guess once you eliminate rolling in the long grass, horror movies are about the only thing left."

Daryl muttered something but since she had finally deigned to enter the little cabin he didn't say anything she might actually be able to catch. She was squinting at a dusty buck's head mounted on the wall, her freckled nose all scrunched up.

"I don't get people who kill animals for fun."

"Oh?"

She glared at the implication, flouncing out of the room. The cabin was laid out exactly the same as the other one they'd found, two relatively large rooms. This one hadn't been empty for as long though, there was a ratty dusty old couch and a rickety old cheap imitation of a cast iron bed. When she flopped down onto it a cloud of dust puffed into the air and half the paint fell off onto the stained pillows. Coughing from the dust she clambered up from the bed and took a nosy lap of the room. The drawers in the dilapidated dresser were empty, as was the wardrobe with a door missing.

"Well that was anticlimactic." She muttered to herself, wandering out of the room.

Daryl had barricaded the front door with the discarded furniture so the only way out was the window. He had found an empty tin can and placed it precariously on the window ledge so any attempt to get in from the outside would alert them. Noisily. He was slouched down on the couch, his crossbow in his lap, staring at the empty fireplace broodingly.

"We won't light a fire. Light might attract summat."

"Whatever you say, redneck." She sighed. "Course, it does get terribly frosty around here at night. It'd be an awful shame to freeze to death after everything that's happened."

Daryl felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as her fingertips brushed along the gap between the collar of his shirt and the nape of his hairline. His heart started to thump and he felt a thin wire of electricity coil from his chest right down to his groin. One touch, that was all it ever took from her. Still, he decided to play it out and see what she had in mind. He quivered with anticipation. Her fingertips moved into his hair, scratching lightly over his delicate skin and tugging until a pleasurable arrow of pain darted through him.

"Can you think of a way we could possibly keep warm? Out here. Alone. In the dark, scary woods."

Her voice was hypnotic; so low and sensual it was barely there but every syllable thrummed through his veins like a drug. Her fingers were ten slender licks of desire, working slowly into the skin of his neck and shoulders. He kept perfectly still as her nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt, despite how badly he wanted to relieve the pressure of his increasingly tight jeans. She slid her hands into his shirt, pulling down the back of his collar until she could press a whisper-soft kiss against the hard knuckle of his spine beneath his skin. His hands clenched convulsively on the crossbow still in his lap, clutching it so tightly it creaked in protest and he felt her lips flicker into a smile against his skin.

He couldn't believe that even whilst sitting on a smelly, rather mouldy, old couch in a shack that smelt like wet dog, her slightest touch could make his blood boil. They could have been in a fancy romantic hotel and it couldn't possibly have been any more sensual than this was. Her nails were tracing little circles on his chest, her lips and teeth worrying the sensitive skin above his collar until every single millimetre tingled. She circled around the sofa and stood before him. He reached out immediately, his hands running up the backs of her thighs and squeezing. She grinned but pushed his hands away.

She took the crossbow and placed it reverently on the floor besides the sofa. He knew she didn't want him to touch her yet, this was one of the games she'd taught him during endless steamy nights in his tent. She would use skills he could never have imagined, touching and caressing and teasing him until he felt as if he might burst into flame and only when he was so frustrated he couldn't take it any longer, would she give him what he wanted. He was momentarily surprised when she pressed her lips against his, usually she withheld them until the last act. Her usual heat was more than evident but there was something softer too. It was a struggle but he managed to keep his hands clenched into fists at his sides instead of reaching for her and he could tell from the glint in her eye that he would be rewarded for his obedience. She tilted his chin until his head fell backwards against the back of the sofa, running the tip of her tongue along his stubbled jawline. Nipping his sensitive pulse-point, she could feel his heart hammering beneath his skin.

He was so enthralled by what her lips were doing, he didn't even noticed that her hands had unfastened his jeans until the pressure was blessedly relieved and the cooling air hit his naked skin. He grunted and he felt her smiling but once she'd released him she didn't touch him again. She unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, running her hands all over his bare skin. He jumped when she caught his nipple in her teeth, glaring down at her but she'd already moved on. She kissed each rib, her hair tickling his sensitised skin and her hands kneading his firm thighs through the denim of his jeans. Her chest brushed against him as she moved and dug his nails into the worn material of the sofa. The only thing preventing him from grabbing her was the knowledge that she always made the torturous teasing worth it. She scratched her nails down his thighs and they tightened and quivered. Her tongue lashed out, flickering against his belly button and the soft trail of bronze hair below. She was so close she could see the muscles in his stomach jumping.

Glancing up she found him staring at her intently, his eyes so bright and simmering with lust that they were almost painful to look at. He didn't say anything, he rarely did no matter what she did to him. It was a different sort of silence though, the kind of silence that spoke volumes. He made a noise at the back of his throat when she finally touched him, his eyes flashing. It was only a brief caress. He growled but was immediately distracted by her discarding the wife-beater. He still wasn't allowed to touch her and he swallowed against the temptation, his fingers digging so hard into the sofa that his knuckles were aching painfully and he wasn't sure he could unclench them if he tried.

The sun had completely set and nothing but the moonlight struggling through the grimy window illuminated the room. Her pearly skin shone as she stepped out of her shorts and the remaining bruises were black. He looked at the brutal marks for a moment but this time he felt no anger and no sympathy, instead there was nothing but a surge of determination. He was going to remove any traces of that scum from her memory. She wanted him to still see her as a beautiful sexual being instead of a victim and he was going to do just that.

Whilst he had been sifting through the confusion of emotions churning in his chest, she had clambered onto his lap.

"Are you going to let me do all the work, Dixon?" She breathed into his ear.

Released from her rules, his hands went immediately to her waist, pushing her down against him. She drew her breath in sharply, her nails digging into his shoulders. He imitated her earlier caresses, the stubble from his jaw scratching teasingly against the delicate skin of her throat. His thumbs slid under her bra, stroking the underside of her breasts and she squeezed her thighs together slightly. He moved suddenly, flipping her onto the back on the small sofa. The tiniest flicker of unease flashed at the back of her eyes when he reared over her and when it disappeared, to be replaced only by desire and trust, he felt his heart clench and it had nothing to do with her sprawled wantonly beneath him.

"I think I have splinters in my butt."

Too worn out to take the bait, Daryl cracked open an eye instead. She was lying naked besides him on her front, leaning on one elbow so she could examine said splinters. He lifted up the blanket they'd grabbed at some point, running an appreciative eye over the wounded area.

"Nothin' there."

She glared at him.

"I can feel them."

He slid the hand not holding up the blanket over her bare flesh. Eventually he shook his head.

"Not a thing."

"Very thorough examination." She grinned, curling into his side and resting her chin on his chest. "How did we end up on the floor, again?"

He shrugged. She eyed the sofa a few feet away beadily. She could not for the life of her remember how they had gone from the sofa to where they were now, nor when they'd retrieved the blanket from the pile of things they'd brought with them by the window. She didn't remember him biting her either but there was a patch of skin on her hip ringed with teeth marks and slowly darkening from red to purple. She also didn't remember making the angry red welts on his back. She looked at her nails critically. They definitely needed cutting.

"How come you didn't get injured?"

He shrugged again, rolling out from under her to expose his sore back.

"Ooops." She grinned, quite unrepentant.

He looked like he might be about to doze off so she leaned over and sank her teeth into his exposed buttock. He yelped and glowered at her over his shoulder. She licked her lips and smiled so all her teeth showed.

"Just returning the favour, redneck." She traced her fingertip along the bitemarks she'd left on his skin, watching the way his sensitive skin jumped at her touch.

"Does that mean I can scratch you all to hell?" He mumbled grouchily, propping his head back on his folded arms.

"If you like. I'm always up for new things." Her hand slid down between his thighs and she saw his back and butt tense as she touched him.

"How have you got energy left?" He grumbled.

"For you, I could do this over and over again for the foreseeable future."

He would have liked to have returned the compliment but truthfully he was so exhausted from their rather wild escapades that he could hardly open his eyes. Of course his body was having no problems at all reacting to her touch.

"Go to sleep." He managed to mutter.

"Are you rejecting me, Daryl Dixon?"

Prising open an eye he found her mock-glaring at him with her arms folded across her chest. He had been on the wrong side of her anger often enough to know when she was faking it so he was unperturbed.

"Give me a couple of hours."

She opened her mouth to taunt him but he had already fallen asleep. She lay back down besides him, covering them both up with the blanket. She had determined not to sit there and watch him sleep like some bimbo in a romance novel, but he was just too cute when he was so peaceful. He frowned momentarily in his sleep, then he flung his arm over her waist and yanked her closer. Her back scratched against the uncomfortable wooden floor but she didn't mind.

LadyLecter47 – she deserves more than a bashing. The second she pops that kid out, if she isn't dead by then, I'm going to beat the hell out of her :D can't wait.

VileMalapert – Rick and Lochie is more of a side story to pass the time until the next season, although he definitely deserves some love too!

zaii – well Daryl and Cassidy aren't cute so I have to get it out somewhere lol. Yup a nice little hike through walker infested woods, it's going to end so well :D I really miss Shane :( freaking Lori better get a nasty messy death

Synvara – I don't feel sorry for hating her she was stupid to get knocked up in the first place. Cow. Rick needs some love. Lots of love and hugs. The poor love.

fbg67 – thanks here's an update for you lol

JTellersOldLady – I would have an eye fixed right on that butt, it's so luscious it better not get shot at or I'll have a sternly written letter prepared for the writers. Is this hot enough for you? :D