It was exactly what Liz had been waiting for all winter. It was a maroon two door pickup that looked like a hell of a lot of fun to tear around in. Liz searched for a key inside the cab, inside the garage, and inside the vacant country home the group had been staying in, but the hunt turned up nothing. She reluctantly made her way to Daryl, who was cleaning a gun Beth had dropped in the mud during their most recent scuffle with a herd of walkers. "I need to learn how to hot wire a car," Liz stated.

"Right this second?" Daryl replied, shaking a glob of mob off of his fingers.

"Well, no, but before we move on. There's a pickup out front I want."

Daryl looked up at her. "Why? We've got enough vehicles."

"If it's raining and we can't ride, we'll need a way to haul the bike. Besides, I'm not asking permission. I'm asking for your help. I don't think anyone else here can hot-wire a car."

"You that tired of riding with me? You can ride in a car if you want." Daryl rolled up a blade of grass and stuck it up the barrel. The blade came out covered in mud. Daryl groaned in annoyance and sat the gun down on the wicker bench next to him.

"Either you show me how to start that truck or you show me how to ride the bike. What if you get hurt and can't ride?"

"I ain't riding bitch is what," Daryl growled as he wiped his muddy hands on his jeans. "Fine. We'll hot wire it tonight. You can't lift the bike. Maybe if we find a smaller one you can learn."

Liz's face lit up and she smirked in triumph. "Thanks. I always wanted a pickup."

"You don' strike me as a truck girl." He studied her, then grinned. "Ain' gonna be the same on the bike alone now. Got used to using you for a back rest." Daryl smirked up at her.

Liz wrinkled her nose. "You're such a charmer. I was planning on having someone else drive the truck when we don't need it. I'd hate to leave my spot on the bike open. That's a good way to lose a man."

A month ago her comment would have left him flustered and bright red, so Daryl mentally chalked one up for himself. He snorted. "Who else gonna jump on?"

"I've got my eye on Beth. Us old broads always seem to get replaced by these young bitches. One minute you're hot stuff, then the next, the young girl's got a perkier rack than you." She tried to give him an accusatory look, but cracked herself up. "I'm not worried yet. I've got some time. She's not 18 yet."

"Shut up. You're a pain in the ass." Daryl shook his head and plucked out a few more feathers.

"I'm your pain in the ass." Liz laughed aloud when she realized how that sounded.

Daryl grinned and nodded toward the house. "I'll be in in a bit. Better go keep Beth at bay. I'm fightin' them women off like walkers."

"Hate to say I told you so, but,"

"Shut up." Daryl hoisted himself into the passenger seat of the pickup a few days later and pulled the door shut with a bang. The bike was tied down in the back; Daryl unable to ride because of a badly sprained ankle. He'd gotten it when Beth accidentally knocked him over a fence. He'd tried hobbling around on it until Liz and Rick literally held him down and had Hershel look at it.

The survivors were moving out; in search of another farmhouse. This one had been easy to secure, but was just too small for the size of their group. It was the same story they'd been living all winter. A house would do for a week or so before it was time to move on and find more food, more space, more security. IT was exhausting, but they hadn't lost anyone since they'd left the farm.

Liz had hot-wired the truck as Daryl had shown her. When the engine turned over, she shimmied in her seat. "Yes!" Her celebration stopped abruptly when the CD player began blaring a familiar song.

"Damn, girl, I forgot how good you sound," Daryl said, smirking as Liz fumbled to eject the Liz Clarke CD.

"Oh, weird. Absolutely not. No," Liz exclaimed in embarrassment. "I thought I'd never have to hear myself again. Ugh!" She mashed at the stereo buttons blindly. Once the stereo spit out her CD, she rolled down the window in order to fling the CD into the yard.

"Hey," Daryl said, snatching the CD from her grip. "I'm keepin' that." He found the case in the console, and popped it into his vest pocket.

"Why?" Liz whined.

"You never sing anymore." Daryl shrugged. "At least now we got proof you used to."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Haven't really had a good opportunity to bust out in song, you know?" She followed in line as the vehicles began to roll down the driveway and back on the road. A walker stumbled out of a treeline and bounced off the pickup. Liz slowed and contemplated getting out and destroying it. One less walker in the world was one less chance of getting her throat bitten out.

"Keep drivin'," Daryl drawled in a bored tone. "Ain' worth gettin' killed over one walker."

"How'd you know-"

"I know how you think." Daryl closed his eyes. "Wake me up if you run into trouble."

****
"Lookie what we got here," Maggie sang out, holding up a bottle of pink wine. She shook it and shimmied her shoulders. "Looks like we're having a girls night! Sorry, Lori," she added, glancing at Lori's swollen stomach.

Lori smiled and held up a small tub. "That's all right. I've got Nutella."

"Girls night?" Beth chimed from the other side of the kitchen.

"Not for you, either. You aren't old enough," Maggie said. "Sorry. You know what Daddy would say 'bout you drinkin'."

Beth's face fell and she turned back to the cabinet she was sorting through. "I'll just enjoy my," she pulled out a can and read the label. "Green beans." Her face fell further and Maggie and Liz laughed.

Rick poked his head in the kitchen. "Everything all right?"

"Sure thing," Maggie answered.

The awkwardness settled in the air. Rick and Lori's relationship was strained, for whatever number of reasons anyone could speculate. The group treated Lori well and treated Rick well, but no one dared push the issue of their marriage.

"Aha!" Maggie pulled out a second and third bottle of wine. "Two more! Me and Liz are going to have us a little girls night once things get settled and secured." Maggie dumped some old orange juice and apple sauce down the drain. "Not too much else was in the fridge. Lots of cans, though. Good pick, this one. Good intuition, Rick."

Rick nodded and left the kitchen. Lori acted like she hadn't seen him.

"So," Beth said, obviously trying to break the silence. "You're sure I can't have any wine? There's enough."

"No. Daddy would kill me. You're just a baby." Maggie gathered the bottles up in her hands and turned toward Liz. "Come on, girl. It's getting late. Let's grab Carol and see if she's interested."

Carol's cheeks were pink and her eyes were sparkling. "I did once. I was there to bring Ed back home. He wasn't at the bar, so of course he was at the strip club. They thought I was I lesbian!" She giggled. "I know. It's the hair." She rubbed her head and laughed. "Anyway, Ed thought I was there as a special treat for him, so I just went along with it."

"No!" Liz and Maggie giggled. The three women had gathered in an upstairs bedroom with their individual bottles of wine, which were all nearly empty. Beth and Lori had opted to stay downstairs and keep Carl company.

Carol nodded proudly. "I was up on the stage with those strippers and I just went with it. It was early on in our marriage, so I was a lot younger and these were a lot peppier," she explained, grabbing her breasts in her hands. "Enjoy your youth, ladies. Goes quick!" She took another swig of wine and smacked her lips.

"You're still young," Liz scoffed. "You're one of us. You're at girls night. Only us young gals do girls nights." She knew her speech was slurred, but she took another sip straight from the bottle and savored the taste.

"Yeah!" Maggie agreed, finishing her glass. "At this point, if you're alive, you're doing pretty well. We're all in the same boat, sister."

Carol crossed her arms across her chest and pouted. "Well being young doesn't help when you've all snapped up the good men!" She laughed. "I don't mean that. I mean, I do mean it, but I'm glad!" She laughed. "I haven't drank this much in such a long time!"

"Hey, I'll share Glenn with you, if you want!" Maggie giggled and poured another glass to the brim. "You can have him when he's got awful morning breath and snores all night."

"No, no, that's okay. I'd rather share Daryl!" Carol giggled and put her hand in front of her mouth. "Don't tell! Don't be mad, Liz. You know he's a good one. What a good man," she added dreamily.

"Geeze," Liz exclaimed. "You, too? Beth told me she had her eye on him, too, back at the farm!" She laughed. "I ain't as generous as Maggie. I ain't sharing. It took a long time for him to say more than two words to me."

"So what's he like in bed?" Maggie asked. "Moody? Quiet? Bossy?" She sat cross-legged and stared intensely at Liz. "Glenn's plenty good, but he doesn't have arms like Daryl's."

"Ooh, yes, details," Carol cooed, leaning in and staring at Liz. "Tell us everything. What's he like?"

Liz waved her hand. "There's been none of that." Her cheeks suddenly felt a little warmer. "We've been busy with the whole walker situation."

"No!" Carol exclaimed. "I don't believe that. Daryl's a hot-blooded American man! You're a bombshell! It's girls night. You can't withhold girl talk! Talk!"

"Really," Liz insisted. "Daryl's a gentleman." She smiled. "Besides, he's always hunting or fixing things and I'm always-" she shrugged. "Waiting around wishing he'd come back."

"Ugh!" Carol sighed. "I'm disappointed in you!"

"But he's sweet!" Liz continued. "Well, maybe not in the rom-com way, but he's really very sweet." She giggled. "Like on the farm when he moved me into his tent? He didn't even make a move on me!"

"Come on, girl, you go get some of that. Ain't he your man?" Maggie grinned wolfishly. "I know what I'm doing once this here wine's gone." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I'm gonna need Glenn, gonna need this bedroom and you're gonna need some earplugs." She laughed loudly and held her sides.

"Your father is in the house!" Carol gasped. "And Beth! You've got way more to lose than this one." She jerked her head towards Liz. "We've gotta get her laid. Tonight!" She clapped her hands together. "We'll get Daryl up here."

"Because that's not totally obvious," Liz giggled. She finished her bottle of pink wine and set it down on the floor with a clunk. "I'm going to be sloppy. Too much wine. What a great first time."

"Second time," Maggie corrected. "You've heard the rumor mill. You did it at the CDC."

Liz rolled her head back and closed her eyes. "Ugh, I don't even remember. But those arms, though."

"Yes!" Carol cheered. "You have to do this so we can live vicariously through you." She finished her own wine and cleared her throat. "So let's get a game plan."

"I was hoping to lure you out here," Liz said seductively twenty minutes later, swinging her legs from the tailgate of her pickup as Daryl strode toward her. Things had gone according to plan. She had snuck out to her pickup with a blanket to spread in the bed. Fortunately the truck was already parked at the edge of the property, so she hadn't had to hot-wire it by herself. Carol had told Daryl that Liz needed his help with something unimportant and he'd immediately left to find her.

"I was hopin' you weren' dead somewhere." He set his bow down in the bed of the pick up and joined her on the tailgate. "I doubt anyone's gon' steal this thing. What- you guardin' it?" He smirked. "I thought it was girls night. Carol's lit."

"Yeah, we had girls night," Liz replied. "All good things must come to an end." She giggled. "Actually, the wine ran out."

"What do you need help with?"

"Just something I've been wanting to do for a while. You know." Her mind was a little fuzzy and the cogs weren't spinning fast enough to spit out clever responses.

"Yeah?" Daryl asked, giving her a puzzled look. "Right now? In the middle of the night? What is it?"

"You." Liz straddled Daryl and pushed him back so he was on his back in the bed of the pickup.

"Stop," Daryl snapped. "You're drunk."

"Only a little," Liz replied, unbuttoning her shirt and pulling off her tank top. She hesitated when she saw his angry expression. "Since T told us about the CDC, I've wondered, or wanted," she trailed off and wondered why he was making that face at her. "Let's do this." She dropped her gun belt and regular belt onto her shirts.

Daryl touched her ribs and traced one of her black tattoos with his middle finger. He wondered briefly if anyone would stumble upon them, or if anyone was standing guard against walkers. True, Liz didn't seem completely incapacitated like they'd been at the CDC, but he knew he'd feel guilty even touching her while she was under the influence. The thoughts quickly crumbled as he further took in Liz's bare abdomen. Her skin was porcelain in the moonlight, only black tattoos and her black lace bra marring it. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "You ain' gotta-"

"Stop," Liz mimicked him. "Are you gonna fuck me or not?" She shimmied back and forth slowly. "I used to be a pretty hot commodity, you know. I had people writing me letters asking me out every single day."

"I know," Daryl replied. "That's why I haven't-"

Liz laughed. "And here I'm begging and you won't have me. I literally just told Maggie and Carol that you're such a gentleman. I should have known!"

"That don't mean I don't want to-"

"Do something about it," Liz interrupted again hopefully. The wine made her mind a puddle of mush. Her filter had diminished and she figured it was now or never. She had wanted Daryl for a long time and was baffled as to why he acted like she was repulsive. "Why you so – whatever- around me? I sleep next to you and I've stayed in your tent and I press my tits against you on the bike on purpose and I've been waiting and waiting for you to pull me away from everyone and fuck me." She grabbed his hands and pressed them against her breasts. "I don't know how much more obvious I can make it!" She bit her lip and smiled down at him. "Daryl Dixon. Please. I want you."

"Naw, you're drunk." Daryl pulled his hands back, but Liz caught them and held them against her again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A thin line kept him from flipping her onto her back and having his way with her.

Of course he'd thought about it; he just never expected her to come pawing at him in the middle of the night. From the moment he'd given her shelter from Shane in his tent, he'd noticed everything about her. The way she smelled like vanilla, the freckles on her shoulders and nose, her bubbly laugh, her swirling black tattoos, the way she grinned with the left side of her mouth when she was being sarcastic – he acknowledged that all of these pieces had absolutely captivated him. He'd fallen in love with each little quirk that made her different from the rest of the group. Her perspective. Her sense of humor. Her sassiness. Her determination. Of course he loved those individual things. Yet the thought of being in love with the woman as a whole terrified him. Loving someone in this new world was dangerous. It would leave him vulnerable. Yet it's the truth, he realized with a slight pang of annoyance. He was in love with Liz. Not Liz Clarke from the centerfolds, but Liz, the girl who welcomed herself to food from his plate without asking, the girl who woke up with hair that rivaled Amy Winehouse's, the girl who he'd taught archery to and who looked at him with those amber eyes that made him want to do his life over and do better.

Over the months he'd done everything in his power to prove to her that he found her breathtaking, celebrity be damned. Though she didn't have an overabundance of options for men in her life, Daryl worried that if he fucked her, she'd second guess his intentions as wanting to bed her for the sake of bedding Liz Clarke the pop star. Liz's drunk giggle pulled Daryl out of his thoughts.

"Take your shirt off," Liz demanded, reaching down and fumbling with the buttons. She pulled his button-down open and ran her hands over his abdomen. "Every time you took your shirt off in the tent, I wanted to touch you so bad!"She giggled as she touched his individual abs.

"Don't think you're the only one," Daryl mumbled, letting his hands rest on the top of her thighs.

"God, Daryl." Liz leaned down and kissed him, letting her hands support her as she bent over his body.

This time, Daryl kissed her back willingly and eagerly. His hands found the small of her back as their mouths hungrily searched the other's. Liz dragged her hand down the length of Daryl's body and let it rest at the bulge in the crotch of his jeans.

"Nuh-uh," Daryl mumbled into her mouth, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away. "Knock it off. I said I ain't doing this when you're drunk."

Liz began to protest, but snapped her mouth shut as the moans of walkers echoed across the yard. She looked over the side of the truck and gasped. A small herd of about twenty walkers was staggering toward the them.

"Fuck," Daryl spat as Liz clambered off of him onto her knees. She handed Daryl his crossbow and fumbled with her gun belt. "Gimme that," Daryl growled, taking her pistol and tucking it into his own waistband. "Gonna get yourself killed. Get in the cab. Lock the doors."

Begrudgingly, Liz obeyed. Though she wanted to help she knew she was too drunk to safely fight the walkers off. "Be safe," she called as Daryl crept toward the herd. She winced and clapped a hand over her mouth. Stay inside the next night you get drunk on wine, she thought with regret.

Daryl paused as the walkers drew nearer. They didn't seem to see him, and were heading away from the house. He raised his crossbow and tried to decide which walkers to take out. The old woman? The young boy? The construction worker? Snarling, Daryl lowered his bow and jogged back to the pickup.

Liz unlocked the door and Daryl got in. "What're you doing?" she whispered, reaching out and touching his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"No. They might pass us by. I can't take on that many by myself at once. No time to get help. Gonna stick it out in here," he replied quietly. He felt himself hold his breath as the walkers split around the car. Some of them bumped into and bounced off of the car before passing by. Liz's grip on his shoulder tightened and he reached up and squeezed her hand.

One of the last walkers marched straight into the car, but instead of turning and going around like its cohorts, it paused and peered into the truck. Seeing the humans inside, it unleashed a snarl and scratched at the window. Liz recoiled at the bones poking out at the ends of the flesh of his fingers. A few of the walkers near the bumper turned and snarled.

"Shit," Daryl mumbled. He reached down and cranked the window down slightly. The walker reached in and tried to pull the window down further, but Daryl struck out with his hunting knife. Blood sprayed out as he pulled the knife from the walker's skull. A slow squeak broke the silence as the corpse slide down the truck door. The others near the bumper turned after an excruciatingly long moment and fell back in step with the rest.

When the herd was a few hundred yards past them, Daryl let out his breath. "That could have been bad."

Liz nodded. Her heart was hammering in her chest. "Let's go back to the house." She opened the truck door and stepped out.

"Liz?" Daryl called softly.

She turned. "Yeah?"

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her. "Maybe you should put a shirt on."