Carol sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to knot the laces on her shoes. She had just enough time to make coffee and possibly enjoy it before Shane Walsh would be downstairs waiting to pick her up. She was supposed to babysit for Michonne until lunch time and then Michonne was going to take her to Lula's to work there for the rest of the day while Michonne's husband had the girls.
Carol sat up from tying her shoes and Daryl's arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her backwards. She flopped back onto him, almost whining without thinking about it.
She wasn't sure at all what was going on with her and Daryl. They were together all the day before in the name of letting Andrea and Merle have space to work out their differences. Andrea and Merle had, apparently, worked them out, at least however it was that they worked things out, and Carol and Daryl had kept her apartment occupied.
Daryl was insatiable. Carol had never seen anything like it, and frankly she was beginning to think her body was built to handle it. She was sore, very sore. Everything hurt and since she'd escaped for about an hour and a half to shower and get ready, she realized the feeling of "hurts so good" that she thought she could apply to everything no longer seemed to work. She wasn't even sure at this point that she'd be able to hide it from Michonne that she'd spent the last day and part of the night having sex with Daryl. She wondered to herself how many of the condoms were even left.
Daryl craned around and kissed her neck awkwardly where he'd pulled her against him. She felt him tugging at the button on her capri pants.
"Please," she said. "I've got to go…you've got to get ready. Don't you have to work today?"
She didn't want to turn him down. For some reason she felt like turning him down made her some kind of evil dragon person, but she didn't want to have sex with him again right now either.
"I gotta work," Daryl said, "but I reckon we got a few minutes."
"No!" She said, pulling herself up and causing him to hiss a little at the fact that his fingers had gotten caught at a bad angle in the waistband of her pants. "I don't have a few minutes," she said, "I've got to get ready to go. You need to get up too."
She got up before he could get his hands on her and went into the kitchen, flipping on the coffee pot and praying that he didn't come up behind her. She liked him, she really did, but she just needed a little break and she wasn't quite sure how to tell him. She'd never been in this position before either.
When Daryl came through the apartment, his shorts on, but his shirt off, his hair standing up on end, Carol watched him like he was a predator until he finally sat at the table, staring at her.
"Why ya gotta go ta work so damn early?" Daryl asked, yawning and scratching at his chest a little.
"Shane picks me up before his rounds start, and I have to be there before Michonne leaves. She has to be at work at a normal hour too, you know?" Carol responded. She quickly poured two cups of coffee and took Daryl one. He grabbed her hand after she put the cup down and kissed her fingers. She pulled her hand away.
"Shane Walsh?" Daryl asked. Carol saw the look that she now knew to be his potential grumpy face come across him. The last time she'd seen that was last night when she'd insisted that they actually attempt to make it through the thirty minute television show they were supposed to be watching instead of ending up tangled up on the couch again.
"Yes," she said, standing at the counter and drinking her coffee to keep the maximum distance between them.
"Why ya ridin' with him?" Daryl asked. "I could drive ya to her damn house. It's fuckin' six in the damn mornin', who the hell is really gonna give a flyin' fuck who ya ridin' with?"
Carol chuckled a little, almost choking on her coffee.
"Apparently you do," she said. "Daryl, he's driving me to work, that's it. What you and I have been doing, it's wrong. I'm a married woman. I'm not supposed to spend my free time sleeping with someone. Ed could use it against me, and until I make enough money to afford a car, I don't have much other choice."
"An' ya sayin' there ain't nothin' goin' on when he takes ya on these little rides?" Daryl asked. Carol smiled at him. Jealousy was cute on Daryl.
"Nothing's going on," Carol said. "Right now there's absolutely no way anything would ever go on."
"Why ya say it like that?" Daryl asked.
"Because, Daryl," Carol said, her voice pleading with him not misunderstand her, "right this minute I feel like the only thing I want to do is sit on a block of ice. OK? I would punch Shane Walsh in the face right now if he even looked at me like he wanted to touch me."
Daryl chuckled a little.
"Did I do that?" Daryl asked. Carol snickered at the look on his face and narrowed her eyes at him.
"Yeah, you did," she said.
"Sorry," Daryl said. He picked up his coffee cup and took a swallow from it, the grin still trying to sneak out. Carol rolled her eyes at him. He chuckled after a minute. "Can I pick ya up somethin' from the drug store on my way home from work?"
Carol narrowed her eyes at him again, trying not to smile. If she smiled, he won this round.
"No, Daryl, you can't pick me up something from the drug store. I don't think they make cream for this, and I don't think you'd want to buy it if they did," she said.
He chuckled again.
"Hell yeah I'd buy it," Daryl said. Carol fought laughing at him and tried to finish her coffee. "So I get off at six today…ya gonna feel better by then?"
Carol rolled her eyes and groaned. She was almost thankful when there was a knock at the door. She put her cup in the sink and started toward the door, opening it slightly and peeking out. She expected Shane to be there, telling her that he was ready to go, but it was Andrea.
"Does Daryl want pancakes?" Andrea asked through the crack. Carol backed up and pulled the door open. Andrea stuck her head in. "Daryl, pancakes?"
"In a little bit," Daryl said from the table.
"I'm not a short order chef," Andrea said. "Pancakes now or no pancakes."
Daryl grumbled and got up, leaving his mug on the table.
"I'm comin', damn it," he said. He started toward the door.
"Jesus it smells like wild animal in here," Andrea said, wrinkling her nose and backing out of the apartment. Daryl made his way to the door and stood staring at Carol. She finally leaned in to kiss him and then pulled the door open the rest of the way so that he could slip out.
"Want me ta come an' just happen ta walk ya home from Lula's?" Daryl asked.
Carol shook her head.
"After the run in with Ed the other day, I think it's better if I just let Jacqui walk me home like we planned," Carol said.
"Don't let her in the apartment," Andrea called, "not unless you open a window and air that place out."
Merle appeared in the doorway of the apartment across the hall, from which Andrea was now yelling, and winked at Carol.
"Nice ta see y'all come up fer air, lil' bit," Merle said.
"Shut up, Merle," Daryl said, pushing Merle out of his way and disappearing into the apartment.
"What?" Merle drawled. "I'm proud…ya got that Dixon stamina. Mighta took ya a while ta get on the horse, but I'd say ya 'bout near run tha damn thing ta death."
Carol didn't hear any more of what was happening across the hall. On that note she slammed the door to her apartment and went to finding everything she needed to toss in her purse before Shane Walsh expected her to be ready.
11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 11
Daryl had to admit that he felt lighter than he'd ever felt going to work that day. Even Merle's harassment hadn't brought him down. He drove down the back roads, toward Hershel Greene's farm, with the window down and smoked a cigarette, smiling to himself.
Daryl didn't know anything about women and he didn't know anything about how he was supposed to feel about them. The only woman he could ever remember having any feelings for had been his mother, and he couldn't compare what he felt for Carol to that in the slightest.
Daryl liked everything about her. He liked the way she smiled and the way she laughed. He liked the way she smelled and the way she was so ticklish that she almost squirmed away from him when he raked his fingertips over her sides. He even loved the way she tasted, and he finally understood what Merle meant when he went on about the way women tasted…except Daryl didn't think he wanted to try any other flavors. He was pretty satisfied with Carol's.
Daryl didn't know much of nothing about divorces. He knew that married people sometimes got them and then they didn't have anything else to do with each other, but that was the extent of it. He wanted Carol to hurry up and be divorced from Ed. The more time he spent with Carol, the more he hated the fat bastard for every single time he'd ever laid a finger on her, whether it was abusive or not. Daryl simply didn't like the idea that anyone had ever touched her; least of all that they had touched in a way that she hadn't wanted.
The only thing that bothered him now was the fact that she wasn't divorced, and since she wasn't divorced, he wasn't supposed to let anyone know how much he liked her. He didn't really understand why it was so bad that they knew, but she'd stressed it to him more than once that it needed to be a secret. He couldn't wait for her to be divorced so he could make it not a secret. Then he could put his hand around her waist when he wanted to like Merle did Andrea, and he could kiss her at the Water Ho and show all those drunk assholes that she would take their tips but she wasn't looking for nobody to put their hands on her like they sometimes liked to do. He wouldn't have to know she was riding around in Shane Walsh's car anymore either. He could drive her to work himself, even if it meant they had to leave early, and people could look all they wanted. All he had to wait for was that stupid divorce.
Daryl pulled his truck into Hershel's drive and parked it under the tree where he normally parked. He got out of the truck and slammed the door shut, heading toward the house to see if Hershel was in there or if Miss Jo could direct him to where he might find him.
Hershel met him, coming out the door, the screen slapping closed behind him, before he could ever mount the steps.
"Good morning, Daryl," Hershel said. "Did you eat yet? Jo's got eggs and ham if you're hungry."
"No sir," Daryl said. "I ate pancakes before I come."
"You eat a lot of pancakes, son," Hershel said with a smile.
"I reckon that's all my brother's woman knows how ta make," Daryl said. Hershel smiled at him and chuckled a little. He came down the steps and walked up to Daryl, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
"One of these days, son, you'll find yourself your own woman, and then she can make your pancakes," Hershel said.
Daryl couldn't help but think to himself that he hoped that soon enough it would be Carol making him pancakes every day and he'd be able to tell Hershel about it. Maybe she'd make ham and eggs too, and then they could compare. She could pack him sandwiches for lunch and then Miss Jo wouldn't feel like she always had to feed him lunch because there wasn't anybody running him food to eat like Andrea was always doing for Merle.
"I reckon I will," Daryl said.
"You seem to be in good spirits, son. Good day off?" Hershel asked as they walked across the rolling grass of the farm.
"Right good," Daryl said. "Can't complain."
"Sometimes a good rest is all we need," Hershel said. "It gets everything running well."
Daryl nodded in agreement, though he hadn't done much resting on his day off. He couldn't say, though, what had kept him occupied, so he decided a good rest was a good excuse.
Hershel escorted Daryl to the barn and told him what he needed to be done. He told Daryl that he was welcome to take a short day if he wanted because he really didn't have anything else for him to do beyond move some bags of feed and some hay bales and make sure the cattle were fed and watered. Daryl reasoned that he could do that in a few hours.
Hershel went off to do whatever it was that he needed to do, and Daryl set to work.
Daryl worked with enthusiasm. It wasn't that he had any real love for hauling heavy feed bags or prickly bales of hay that made him itch and stuck to his sweaty body, but he had a lot on his mind and that kept him from focusing on the less pleasant aspects of what he had to do. He fed and watered the cattle, ignoring the fact that the filthy animals would occasionally get too close for comfort and try to crush his feet.
As the day wore on, he reasoned that he might even finish early enough to eat a late lunch at Lula's, and if he was lucky Carol could serve him. He couldn't let on that he liked her like he did, but at least he could see her, and she could smile at him from time to time while he ate.
Daryl got so wrapped up in his thoughts, in fact, that he surprised himself when he went back into the barn and realized that there wasn't anything else for him to haul. He slipped out of the barn, mopping at his face with his shirt for a moment, and made his way around back in search of Hershel.
On the way there, he noticed an old Chevrolet parked up under a tree. He crossed over to the rusty old truck and walked around it a couple of times. There were a few spots in the back where the bed was rusting through, and one of the tires was so flat it was sad, but the truck didn't look to be too bad off. Daryl looked around, but he didn't see Hershel or any of the others. He pulled the door open to the old truck and jumped back when he looked inside. Then he almost laughed at himself. There was a humongous snake skin curled up on the seat of the truck, but whatever snake had left it there appeared to be long gone.
Daryl walked around, continuing his inspection of the obviously abandoned vehicle. He popped the hood of the truck and gazed in. It clearly needed work, but he wondered if it would run, and he wondered exactly how much work the old thing did need.
Daryl almost jumped out of his skin when Hershel quietly approached him and spoke.
"She was a good ole thing, back in her day," Hershel said.
Daryl jumped and spun around, feeling guilty, though he hadn't actually done anything wrong.
"I finished doin' all ya asked me to," he said suddenly, hoping Hershel didn't think he was neglecting his work. The man smiled, nodding a little.
"I saw," Hershel said. "You did a good job. You're a good worker, Daryl."
Daryl nodded and muttered his thanks. He wasn't used to praise and it made him uncomfortable.
"What happened ta the truck?" He asked.
Hershel mopped at the back of his kneck for a moment with a red plaid handkerchief and Daryl swatted some gnats that were after his own sweat.
"She had a couple of problems," Hershel said. "Parked her when I got a new farm truck. She's been here ever since."
Daryl looked at the truck.
"How much would it set ya back?" Daryl asked, leaning his hand on the front fender.
"This old thing, son?" Hershel asked. He swiped at his neck again and fanned at some gnats.
Daryl nodded, chewing at his lower lip.
"Son, this truck's been here so long, I don't imagine it'll run," Hershel said.
"How much?" Daryl asked. "Three hundred bucks?"
Hershel shook his head a little.
"I couldn't take your money, Daryl. I'd almost give it to you if you could get it out of here," Hershel said. "I was going to sell it for scrap metal eventually."
Daryl looked at the old truck again.
"Would ya care if I stayed ta work on it here after I get off in the evenin's?" Daryl asked. "I'll give ya three hundred bucks for it. Ya ain't likely ta get that much for scrap metal."
Hershel shook his head and chuckled a little.
"Son, I don't know why you want this old truck, but if you can get her running, she's yours," Hershel said. "You don't have to pay me for it. Just consider it a bonus for being a good worker if it means that much to you."
Daryl grinned at him and stuck his hand out to shake on it. Hershel smiled and shook his hand.
"I'm goin' ta get started on it now," Daryl said, "while I got some daylight left." He turned and started toward his truck to get his tools with Hershel close behind him.
"What do you want that old pile of bolts for anyway, son?" Hershel asked.
"It's a good truck," Daryl said. "Just needs a little care, that's all."
"Son, that truck's old and it's had a hard life. That was the first farm truck I ever had," Hershel said, clearly amused with Daryl's yearning for the vehicle.
Daryl shook his head.
"Don't matter," he said. "Hard life just gives it character. I'll get it runnin', don't'cha worry 'bout that."
Hershel nodded at Daryl and clapped him on the shoulder as he reached over to fish his toolbox out of the back of the truck.
"Knock yourself out," Hershel said. "It's good to see someone with some enthusiasm about an old thing like that. Shows you're not one to have your head turned too easily."
Daryl nodded at him, not really sure what Hershel meant. He'd get the truck running though. Daryl didn't believe there was anything with an engine that he couldn't eventually get to run. It might need a few parts here or there, but that old truck still had a few miles left in it, and he was determined to make them count.