AN: So, my usual go to guy (or gal in this case) for all things American is MIA, so, I post this wary of having some obvious and cringe worthy mistakes. If you see them, or you read something that throws you out of the fic, PLEASE let me know so I can fix it?

Also, big thank you to hanagirl for reviewing. You aren't logged in so I'm not able to reply, but I'm loving your reviews.

Chapter Five

He was floating. Nothing in his brain would settle, sensation whipping it all into a fluster and he was left with the sensation that he was slowly flittering around in the air, completely weightless. Then, as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, a red hot bolt of desire shot to his dick and he crossed over from being horny to absolutely frenzied in his need to touch her.

Prying his eyes open didn't help. Seeing how lost she was in their kiss only compounded his craving to extend this beyond a first declaration of passion, of intent. He wanted it all and he was just about crazy enough to take it in their precarious hiding spot, if it weren't for the cramp rapidly developing in his thigh. His two hands were combing through her hair, holding her close, refusing to allow her to draw back even if she'd tried to. Which, he was gratified to realise once the floaty feeling in his head calmed the hell down, she hadn't.

Pain pinched at the muscle in his leg and he grimaced, but he wasn't letting go of her lips. He took one of her hands in his and guided it to where the soreness had taken root, roughly encouraging her to help him massage out the pain while his body shuffled in spasmodic jerks to try and take his leg out from under her. The change in position seemed to work, alleviating the contractions in his muscle, and so he pushed up against her with her back wedged into the back of their mini-cavern and all he could concentrate on was the heat of her mouth as it fell open and her luscious tongue peaked out to taste his lips.

Her clever hand had worked out the best rhythm to work on his cramp without his help so he used his own to finally touch her, to push the strap of her top down off her shoulder and sweep his rough fingers across her collarbone. A tidal wave of lust exploded within him the second his tongue collided with hers and without any thought at all his palm cupped her breast and his callused thumb dragged against her nipple, circling it lazily until she threw her leg across his thigh and hitched his pelvis closer, angled right up against her, the heat between her legs scorching him even through two pairs of pants. He pinched her nipple, ripping his lips away from the Heaven of her mouth to draw out the torture by sucking her pebbled berry between his teeth.

Her back arched—except there was nowhere for her to go and the back of her head cracked into the rocky wall behind her.

Her cry of pain was like a bucket of ice water—one that he apparently desperately needed as he realised his other hand had already started working on the button of her pants. He tore himself away, burying his face into her throat and drawing in deep, rasping breaths in an effort to slow down his galloping pulse.

"Shit." He was still panting, taking no small comfort in the rapid dipping and diving of Carol's chest as he took refuge against it, almost too scared to look up and see what expression she'd have on her face. He didn't think there was any point trying to convince himself she didn't feel the same, but it didn't stop him from being slightly embarrassed for acting like a randy teenager. Especially when they were meant to be hiding from a homicidal maniac that would shoot them as soon as he saw them.

"This probably isn't the best time," Carol grumbled, her words shaking around ragged breaths but he could still hear a hint of the flirtatious teasing that she always managed to throw in when she was talking to him. He smirked into the crook of her neck and then sighed as her fingers ran through his hair, soothing him, hypnotising him into wanting more, wanting back at the prison where he could hide her in his cell and discover all her little bedside secrets.

"Could prob'ly pick a better one," he agreed, ignoring the flush burning his cheeks to give in to temptation and lick the full length of her throat right to her jaw. He propped himself up on his elbows and working in one extra, quick kiss. "Gimme a raincheck?"

"You got it, Dixon." Her eyes were sparkling and for one fine moment he couldn't move, too entranced with how beautiful she was—how lucky he was to finally get his ass into gear and see it for what it was. He was really hoping that luck hung in there as they tried to navigate their way out of this mess.

"Gimme a sec to check if the coast is clear? Then we better get our asses movin' before we lose the light. We're a long way from home, Dorothy." She stopped in the middle of nodding, her hand curving into the side of his face as she held his gaze, her expression blistering with sudden trepidation.

"I'm so sorry I dragged you out here into this. I was stupid wanting to get away." She swallowed hard and for a minute he thought she was going to cry, couldn't quite believe how relieved he was when she didn't.

"You didn't make me do nothin' I didn't already wanna do. I coulda said no and just camped outside the cells with ya. Didn't want to," he admitted shyly, ducking his gaze for a moment before seizing his inner tiger, staring her right in the eye and admitting out loud exactly what he'd thought when the option came up. "Wanted to spend some time with you away from all those nosy assholes."

He'd never admit it but he swore her smile was brighter than the goddamn sun, and just as warm.

"Even if we end up dead, it was worth it," she whispered to him and he was sure she could see some long forgotten part of his soul that no one in his life had ever had the chance to see for her to believe something like that.

"Ain't gonna end up dead," he vowed, never more sure of anything in his life, then rolled out against their cover branches and exposed their hiding spot. He rose fluidly to his feet in the next second, scanning the woods and listening for any sign that their enemy was closer than they thought. He sensed nothing, quickly uncovering his weapon and the bags, reaching for Carol's hand and headed off perpendicular to the Governor and his men.

In mutual understanding they kept silent, Daryl taking her hand as they set off at a solid pace. Not running full pelt this time, but walking fast enough to bounce into a jog now and then. They stopped when he noticed Carol's steady pressure in his hand was beginning to lag and that he was pulling her more than her easily keeping up with him. As soon as he stopped and she grabbed for a bottle of water, he remembered they hadn't eaten yet and dug into the bag of things he'd found at the doctor's place, busting open the box of granola bars. Carol moaned as she tore into the bar, a few crumbs sticking to her lips until Daryl gently flicked them off.

"You're a messy eater."

Carol stopped chewing to contemplate him thoughtfully.

"An' that's comin' from the guy that likes to roll around in the mud and smear animal guts all over his jeans." Her lips quirked as she pointedly looked at his mud-caked pants.

"I figure if you're gonna wash my pants, I should at least give you a challenge," he kidded, an easy smile settling on his lips as he watched some of the tension and fear ease from her shoulders.

"Everythin' about you is a challenge, Daryl. Good thing I like that." And she winked at him. He was pretty certain no girl had ever winked at him in his whole damn life. No one had ever made a habit of flirting with him the way she had, either, and some days it made his head spin. Other days—mostly nights—it found him lying in his cot, trying to sleep but having no success as he unwillingly conjured up some of the things she'd suggested. The night she'd asked him if he wanted to screw around—when they'd all camped out in the prison's front yard, damn near on top of each other—it had taken him hours to get the images of her naked body writhing around on top of his out of his head, and subsequently he'd been hard as steel the entire time.

"If we weren't runnin' for our lives I'd ask what else you like, but time's a wastin'. Let's go."

She didn't fuss, quickly stowing her empty wrapper back in the box, which she then stuffed back into the doctor's bag and they set off again. Not once did she complain about her legs being tired, or her body weakening and Daryl was reminded again what an asset she was to the group, what a strength she was to him, how downright special she was in the grand scheme of things.

They'd trekked for hours, passing very few walkers. He didn't want to do it, but the ones they encountered now he killed, preferring to think they'd be long gone before the Governor and his sheep stumbled upon this way. He'd feel safer if he killed them rather than worrying about the number of walkers pursuing them gathering together and forming a herd. He steered them away from any promising-looking shacks, knowing the Governor would haze them to the ground as soon as he considered them to be inside. His mind spun, trying to race through the options. They needed shelter, but it needed to not be obvious, preferably provided by the great outdoors rather than being manmade. They needed to stay away from water, fearing the landmark to be a calling card to their enemy. The Governor and his men had no real tracking skills, but as long as a body had water, could follow the line of a creek, they had a chance of making it out of the woods. Daryl had more than a chance of getting them out of the woods without the solid presence of a creek bed, but he couldn't risk leading Carol to the one major possibility where they could intersect with the Governor.

His inner compass led him toward thicker trees, denser foliage and he just hoped they had enough water to last a few days out there before they had to make their way toward a creek. He cursed under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Carol tugged on his hand and he looked over his shoulder .

"Gotta head away from water. These assholes don' have the first idea how to track but they ain't stupid enough to stray too far from water. If I could get to a creek, I could work out where the fuck to go to get back to the prison."

"Daryl, you don't need a creek. You can do this standin' on your head." Her smile was brimming with confidence he wasn't sure he shared and then she was in his arms, pressed against his body, her own trembling with exhaustion.

"Need to find shelter soon, so's you can rest."

"I'm fine—" she objected but was cut off as he planted a hard kiss on her lips. She looked dazed when he pulled away and he grinned, feeling a cocky confidence he'd never had before.

"You ain't fine," he refuted gently, his hand slipping the length of her spine and settling on the enticing, rounded curve of her ass. "You're about dead on your feet."

"You're just tryin' to knock me off my feet," she teased, linking her arms up around his neck.

"Ain't I already done that?" He was suddenly nervous. Hadn't he done enough to show her where he stood?

"Yeah," she said breathily, her lips finding the pulse in his throat and kissing it. "You done that an' more."

He liked the way she admitted it so easily, pushing his nerves back toward normal, even though his heart rate was picking up extra beats from having her so close.

"So…we got an understandin', right?"

She chuckled against his chest, releasing one of her hands to stroke a sensual path right down his front until she was brushing not so gently against the bulge in his pants and squeezed. He forgot how to breathe, white bolts of pure desire searing him inside and out.

"Yeah, I think we're finally understandin' things just fine."

It was torture, pure and cruel, but he forcefully pried her fingers loose from his dick before he fell to his knees begging her like the pussy he truly knew he was. If he'd been Merle he'd have taken her up against a tree by now, not taken his sweet time just getting to the first kiss. Merle wouldn't have let an opportunity get past him, wouldn't let the threat of no Governor stalking his ass stall him from making this woman his. They were still exposed out in the open and as much as his body screamed at him to finally get her naked, he didn't want to be shot while he was doing it. They needed to get, and they needed to do it now. He was even ready to bed down in one of the long abandoned shacks they ran into now and again, if it meant getting Carol somewhere safer than the vulnerable, unguarded spaces of the woods.

Ignoring his still hard dick, ignoring her soft giggles, he snatched up her hand and dragged her forward. He'd stomped about for another few minutes when his boot struck something hard and immobile and almost sent him sprawling in the dirt. He let go of Carol's hand, kicked the thing that had tripped him up again and then used his boot to sweep away some of the forest floor. He revealed a door and Daryl stared at it, did a quick survey of their surrounds and huffed a thoughtful breath.

"What's a trapdoor doin' out in the middle of nowhere?" he mused out loud, almost forgetting Carol was there as a sick feeling crept along his bones.

"Why are images from that movie with Morgan Freeman and those kidnapped girls runnin' through my head?" Carol whispered right next to his ear, sending a shiver right down to his soul.

Maybe 'cause nothin' but sick pricks feel the need to hide remote as fuck hidey holes in the middle of the Georgia woods.

He didn't want to pull up that trap door, as desperate as they were for shelter. They had one pathological maniac following them, intent on making sure they were good and dead, and for all Daryl knew, there could be another one lying in wait beneath the earth, dwelling there like a stranded Devil with too much time on his hands. He chewed the inner lining of his cheek while he contemplated it, dragging his crossbow from his shoulder as he succumbed to the blinding reality that they had no choice. Whatever was down there could be worse than anything they encountered up here, but he had to take the chance and hope to fuck it all came up roses.

"Kiss The Girls." He muttered the name of the movie and hoped like fuck he wasn't about to step into a nightmare. "You got your knife?"

Carol's hand landed on the small of his back and he startled a little. He twisted and speared her with an intent look as he dragged her to his side, nodding approvingly at the knife clutched in her hand. "Don't go bein' heroic. If there's shit down there, let me handle it."

"I don't look good in a cape and lycra tights."

Shit. He couldn't believe she was still kidding around, with how many things were exploding in their face right now. His gaze narrowed, refusing to allow his mind to wander to a picture of her wearing black spandex and looking remarkably like cat woman.

"Good. Capes just give walkers somethin' else to grab, anyways."

"An' while you're in there not letting me kill anything, just remember that if you go down, I'm right behind you." She peered at him with warning, her grip moving to clasp around his elbow. "Just stay safe. I didn't finally get you to kiss me to lose you now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Daryl took a steadying breath, loaded up his crossbow then slowly, carefully lifted up the hatch.