Thanks again to my fabulous reviewers, it really makes my little fangirl heart proud when someone is kind enough to comment and say what they are enjoying about my story. Sometimes it even gives me ideas!

To kadieliz, "May I say this is fantastic?" Well... Ok. You can say that. If you insist.

To Ashvarden, "and the end, loved it". I do love me a good cliffhanger… And I only just realised how similar it was to Merle's "guess I can help you out" comment about shelf stacking in chapter 3, tee hee.

Also just realised I have never put in any disclaimers. Obviously I don't own TWD. Because if I did there would be A LOT MORE SMUT. (Especially with NR and MR. Although, not together. Umm… unless it was "a threesome? Well, if you insist.")

And now … more smut.

(I'm hoping Merle isn't too OOC for anyone).

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Carol was agreeably surprised that Merle spent a long time kissing her very thoroughly, the two of them still leaning against the shelving, Merle's hand roaming her body lightly with a knowing touch, stirring her into a heady arousal. She wouldn't have pegged Merle as being the type that was into foreplay; in fact she thought Merle's idea of foreplay would consist of saying, "You awake?" But she was wrong, and she was enjoying being able to touch him too, running her fingers over the smooth pale skin that covered hard muscle, and relishing his twitching response. Eventually she ran her hand down to the front of his pants, pressing her palm against him through the cloth and stroking back and forth, watching his face closely.

He lifted both arms up to rest them against the shelves, leaning over her, pushing himself against her hand, eyes closed in concentration as he breathed heavily, his mouth open just a little. She slid her free hand up under his tank top to brush a thumb across his nipple in time with her steady movements lower down. Merle's breath was harsh against her ear as she intensified the pressure down south, and when she bent forward to mouth his other nipple through the ribbed fabric of his top, he damn near choked.

Suddenly his hand darted downwards and took her wrist in a tight grasp, stilling her movement. She still had a thumb free though, and brushed it over the head of his hard prick. He pulled her hand clear with a tch sound, then ground out, "Woman you better stop that right-now or it'll all be over and we're gonna have to wait fifteen minutes before you get to have any more fun."

"Really?" Carol looked up at him, trying not to sound too smug. She hadn't thought he would be that quick off the trigger in response to a simple hand job. Perhaps it was just as well he had stopped her when he did.

"Oh you know damn well what you're doin'." He stepped back, dropping her wrist, and made a visible effort to get his breathing under control, his solid chest noticeably rising and falling.

Carol smiled as impishly as she knew how. It was certainly very rewarding to see how stirred up he was; nothing wrong with a little quid pro quo. She always took pleasure in a job well done.

"Well I guess we could take time-out to slow down a little and slip into something a little more comfortable," she replied, crouching down to fossick under the bottom shelf. She'd had the forethought to squirrel away a couple of blankets and a pillow so that if things came off (so to speak), they would have something more comfortable than the hard floor to lie on. Carol flipped out the blankets and put the pillow to one side.

"When I slip into something a little more comfortable it's gonna be you."

"Merle!" Carol was shocked as much by the quick wit of his comment as its crudeness. If anything, she would have expected something more along the lines of, "while you're down there..." Merle was confounding her in more ways than one.

He simply grinned unrepentantly, even white teeth showing in his wide smile, laughter lines creasing deeply, as he lounged back against the shelving.

"What you got there?" he nodded towards the blankets.

"Something to lie on," Carol replied, spreading them out neatly and pulling the corner of one away from where it had fallen across Mere's booted foot. She picked up the pillow, a nice full squashy one, plumped it up and arranged it across the top of the makeshift bed.

"Ah-huh." Something in Merle's tone made her crouch back on her heels and look up at him, only to see him contemplating her, his body still and his head tilted to one side. His features were set in an assessing expression, frown lines coming into play now. She suddenly wondered if he resented her for seemingly having taken success for granted. No one wanted to be thought easy, surely – even Merle.

"Shit, you musta been a Girl Scout."

"Actually? I was." She smiled, reached into the pillowslip and pulled out a strip of condoms, waving them a little to draw his attention to them, then placed them in a handy location next to the pillow. After what she'd learned about Merle having had the clap, there was no way she was letting him near her without using them. "Stay safe," mental Daryl chose to suddenly make a reappearance with unwelcome raillery. Now's not the time friend. She left the lubricant tucked into the linen – after the state Merle had got her into, they weren't going to be needing that, no sirree.

Merle nodded sourly at the condoms, not even bothering to raise an argument about them, but instead then snorted, shook his head in wonder at her having them to hand and said, "What the hell kinda Girl Scout were you?'

"The kind that knows to be prepared."

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To be continued…

There will be something of a hiatus while I write some more. Not as long a hiatus as the one mid-season Three. Because I am not as cruel as AMC.