A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed my first chapter! I'm new at this and have no idea what I'm doing. I've never been compelled to write fanfiction in my life, but I'm having Daryl/Carol withdrawals and I just need to live in their world for a bit. After you read this chapter, please don't worry that this whole story will be just Caryl in a tent. There will be more to it, I promise! Please review and let me know if I should keep going. Thanks!

The next few weeks were fairly uneventful. The group moved from place to place, gathering whatever food they could find but mostly eating whatever Daryl could kill. They ran into a few walkers but never enough to cause any real danger. All of the members of the group were getting better at defending themselves, and Carol was finally beginning to feel comfortable killing the occasional walker with a knife to the head. She couldn't help noticing that Daryl looked at her with something like pride when she defended herself, and though she loved knowing that he would always protect her she also loved feeling self-sufficient.

Since the first night he'd come into her tent, Daryl had slept next to her occasionally but not consistently. Some mornings, she woke up and was surprised to find him next to her. He always managed to steal into the tent while she slept and remain asleep until she left in the morning. She'd wanted to bring it up in conversation with him, but she wasn't quite sure how. She was trying to accept it as a mere survival mechanism, Daryl's need for the warmth of another body or his need to provide that warmth and security for someone else. He mostly kept his distance in the night, but sometimes she woke up in his arms, and she couldn't help it: that feeling was all she thought about these days.

One particularly cold night, Carol lay awake in her tent, hoping Daryl would come again, but he didn't. Glenn and Maggie had found a few sleeping bags on their run that day and had given them to her and Beth, obviously since neither of them had a man to keep them warm. If anyone knew Daryl was ending up in her tent some nights, they were pretending otherwise. Carol wondered if Daryl would stay away because of the sleeping bag, thinking that maybe she didn't need him anymore. At dinner around the campfire, he had barely looked at her. Lori noticed her watching him and asked if something was up, but Carol just shook her head and smiled. "I was just thinking how lucky we are to have a hunter with us," she said, finishing off the squirrel meat she'd grown accustomed to.

"Daryl's a real asset to us, that's true," Lori said, nodding slowly and narrowing her eyes a bit. She lowered her voice. "He's been staying in your tent, hasn't he?"

Carol looked up, her eyes wide. "Oh. Oh, yeah, he does sometimes, but it doesn't mean anything. Cold nights, you know?"

Lori grinned. "I haven't seen Daryl looking for warmth anywhere else, honey.

Carol waved her hand, dismissing what Lori was saying. She watched, disappointed, as Daryl finished his meal and headed to his own tent.

Some time in the middle of the night, Carol heard her tent flap opening. She grabbed her knife in case it was a walker, but then she heard his voice.

"Hey, it's just me."

"I thought you were a walker."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he muttered. He ran his hand through his hair and looked away. "T-Dog's on watch, though. He wouldn't let any slip past him."

"I know." Carol trusted T-Dog completely. She trusted everyone in the group, and she'd started to gradually regain respect for Rick again. But she always felt like Daryl was the one who was truly protecting not just her but all of them. He was the reason she was still alive.

"So. . .did you need something?" she asked, putting her knife away.

Daryl sighed. "Don't make me ask."

Carol tried not to smile. "You want to stay here again."

It wasn't a question, but he nodded and so did she. He slipped off his jacket and boots and moved toward her.

"You can get in the sleeping bag with me," she said.

He started shaking his head, but she put up a hand. "Just do it, Daryl. It's warmer that way. You'll sleep better if you're comfortable, and you need the rest. You do so much for us. Besides, I won't bite."

He cocked an eyebrow at that, then slipped into the bag with her. "Sorry," he mumbled when his arm bumped into her head.

"S'ok," she said, turning her back to him. He draped his arm over her, because there was really nowhere else for it to go. She closed her eyes, but she couldn't imagine falling asleep. He was closer than he'd ever been, every inch of him pressed against her. Her heart was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it, and when she slowed her breathing she thought she could feel his strong heartbeat pulsing in her back. She wondered what he was thinking, and almost hoped he was as nervous as she was about their proximity. But a few moments later, she heard his breathing slow and deepen and knew he had fallen asleep. She smiled and allowed herself to drift into a safe, warm sleep as well, wanting the night to last forever.

In the morning light, Carol opened her eyes to see that she had twisted around in the night and now lay facing Daryl, her legs tangled with his and his arms wrapped around her. Her left leg was draped over him, and under her thigh she could feel the hard bulge of his erection. She dismissed it as a morning inevitability and started to move her leg so he wouldn't be embarrassed when he woke up. As soon as she started to move, however, his hand grasped her thigh and held it there. She felt him press his hips upward a little, pushing his cock into her thigh a bit, and heard him breathe deeply through his nose. She was afraid to look up at his face, because she didn't want the moment to end. His hand moved from her thigh to her ass and back down again, stroking her slowly and softly, a contrast to the firmness under her. She repositioned herself slightly so that her body was half on top of him, and now his cock pressed against the highest point of her inner thigh. She wondered if he could feel the heat of her arousal through their clothes. Her hand snaked up to his neck and ran through his hair. Still not looking up at him, she moved her head to his neck and pressed her lips softly against the skin there. His grip on her thigh tightened and she felt his hips move again, his cock even harder now. They were both breathing heavily now and starting to writhe against each other. Carol was afraid to speak or to look at him. She wanted him so much. Was he half asleep and dreaming of someone else? Did he want her too?

"Carol, is Daryl in there?"

They both shot up. "Um, yes, just a minute," she answered.

Daryl pulled himself out of the sleeping bag. "Comin', Rick," he called. He left the tent without even looking back.