AN: So here you go…a little something.
For any of you who haven't seen it and may be interested, I'm working on another Caryl AU called Broken Mirrors. The story is very AU and quite different than this one, though. If you think you might be interested pop on over there and give it a look.
For those of you reading my other Caryl fic, if I'm not too exhausted I'm going to try to get a chapter out for Phantom Hearts tomorrow after work. I just haven't been there mentally and I hate to try to update if I'm not in the right place mentally. No worries, though, it will be updated soon!
Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always I thank you for all the love you show me with reviews, comments, etc.
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When Daryl got home, he was surprised to find that he could barely fit his truck in the driveway. Andrea's car was parked in his place. He crawled out of the truck, slamming the door, and as he walked up the driveway toward the house he'd been even more surprised to find his brother there, sitting on the ground, and taking apart a bike on the carport while Andrea and Carol sat side by side on the step in front of the side door talking about whatever in the hell it was they always found to run their mouths about.
They had proceeded, after that, to have some kind of big family dinner and then Daryl had gone out with Merle to look at the bike he'd acquired from T-Dog, apparently, while the women Andrea and Carol did the dishes and talked.
After Merle and Andrea left, Carol excused herself to take a shower and Daryl walked over to the cookie jars. He hadn't put anything in there that day. He really hadn't had time to even think of anything if he'd been searching for something that was wrong, but even now he couldn't think of anything that he felt needed to be addressed, so he knew that Carol's jar was empty.
He cringed a little, though, at the thought of all that might be waiting in his. Merle had apparently been there for a good bit of the day and there was a bike that was partially disassembled under their carport. Daryl didn't know how many notepads Michonne had bought to go with the cookie jar, but he feared that he was going to find the majority of them folded into tiny strips of paper with an almost endless stream of complaints about his brother.
Daryl knew Merle and his mouth well. They'd been acquainted over the years. He knew how to ignore Merle, sometimes, and he thought he was getting even better at it, but Carol wasn't as used to Merle as he was. He could only imagine the number of inappropriate things that his brother had probably chosen to spew forth throughout the day. Daryl wasn't sure, while he was thinking about it, that all the nice things he'd done for Carol since he'd known her would be enough to counteract all he was sure to find there.
He took a breath and popped the lid on his jar, deciding to prepare himself for the table discussion while Carol was still in the shower. He looked in, through half squinted eyes, and then stepped back a little from the counter, surprised. There wasn't anything in the cookie jar. Carol had been home from work the whole day, with Merle for company no less, and the cookie jar was empty.
Daryl closed the jar and put it back on its side of the coffee maker. He made his way through the house, then, walking directly into the bathroom.
"Ya OK?" Daryl asked. He knew that sometimes after dinner Carol complained of not feeling very good, and he worried that she was lingering in the shower to try to cover it up.
He thought that might be something that he'd put in the cookie jar for tomorrow, but he wasn't introducing it today. For whatever reason, Carol seemed to think that her being sick was going to make him angry or something of the like, because she apologized profusely for it in the mornings and any time throughout the day that she disappeared to the bathroom and he knew about it, she would return, apologizing, if she'd gotten sick. He had no idea why she did that. He understood that when she got sick like that it wasn't her fault. She couldn't help it, and even if she did have any control over it at all, he didn't know why anyone would get mad at someone else because they felt so bad they thought it was a good idea to go and curl up on the floor with their head against the toilet seat. But Carol was like that…she was going to apologize, even if there wasn't a reason for it.
"I'm OK," Carol called back. "I don't want to get out."
Daryl wrinkled his brow.
"Why not? Somethin' wrong?" He asked.
"No," Carol called back. "It just feels good in here. I don't want to get out."
Daryl snickered.
"Then don't," he said. "I ain't had me a shower since I got off a' work an' I smell like cow shit. I reckon ya could keep me comp'ny in there."
"Come on, then," Carol said.
Daryl snickered to himself and stepped out of the bathroom to strip down and drop his clothes into the tall laundry basket that Carol kept pushed against the dresser. When he was naked, he made his way back into the bathroom and pushed back the shower curtain. Carol was standing directly under the stream, her eyes closed, letting the water run directly onto her face and down her body.
Daryl went hard at the sight of her there, water running over her.
"Are you coming?" She asked, not opening her eyes.
Daryl snickered.
"Not yet, I ain't," he said. "But I reckon it won't be too damn long."
"What?" Carol asked. She turned then, opening her eyes. At first she just looked confused, but then her eyes trailed down and she laughed. "Get your ass in here," she said.
"Look at'cha!" Daryl said, crawling into the shower. "Bossin' my ass around an' talkin' like that."
Carol stepped out of the spray and pushed Daryl backwards, under the warm water. He saw her shiver a little.
"Now ya gonna freeze ta death," Daryl said.
"I'm fine," Carol said. "Wash."
"I thought we might do something else," Daryl said.
Carol smiled at him.
"Wash! You said it yourself, you smell like a dirty cow," Carol said.
Daryl chuckled and started washing himself as quickly as he could.
"I looked in the cookie jars," Daryl said. "Ya ain't put nothin' in mine."
"How much do I have to answer for today?" Carol asked.
"I ain't put nothin' in yours neither…" Daryl said. "But what I want ta know is why ain't there nothin' in my jar?"
"Why?" Carol asked. "Did you do something that I don't know about that needs to be in the jar?"
Daryl rinsed under the spray and reached for the shampoo bottle, the top of his arm brushing across Carol's breast and renewing the feelings that had started to fade a little. He shivered in response to it.
"Ya mean ta tell me that Merle Dixon was here all damn day an' he ain't said nothin' that made ya wanta put no paper in that cookie jar?" Daryl said, lathering up his hair.
Carol opened the shower curtain and got out the shower. Daryl stuck his head out quickly, but pulled it back in, trying to keep the suds from running into his eyes.
"Where tha fuck ya goin'?" He called. "Thought ya wanted ta stay in here. That's what the hell I got in here for."
"You needed a shower," Carol said. "And now I'm cold and I don't want to be in there anymore. I'm not going anywhere, Daryl, I'm just drying off to warm up."
Daryl sighed and scrubbed his hair so he could rinse it and join her.
"And I didn't put anything in the cookie jar because there wasn't anything to put in there," Carol said. "Merle was…well…he wasn't so Merle today. Besides, why would it go in your jar to explain Merle's actions? Would you put something in my jar if, say, Andrea made you mad?"
Daryl finished rinsing his hair and switched off the water, shaking his head to shake off the excess wetness before pulling back the curtain and tugging the towel off the towel rack. Carol was sitting on the sink, her towel wrapped around her.
"No," he said. "But Merle's different. Did he say somethin' ta make ya mad?"
Daryl could tolerate Merle's mouth, and for the most part he let Merle talk to Andrea as he pleased, figuring that she must be able to handle him or she wouldn't have chosen to stick around him this long, but he wasn't going to let Merle talk trash to Carol. She didn't deserve it and she wasn't that kind of person. She was much softer spoken than any of the three of them and she didn't need Merle cussing her out or spewing his philosophical bullshit all over her.
"No, Daryl, he didn't say anything. My point was that you're not responsible for what Merle does and says. Merle is the only one that's responsible for that. Even if he had done something, which he didn't, you're not the guilty party," Carol said.
Daryl finished toweling off and pulled his towel back across the bar. Carol slid off the sink then and hung hers up beside his, though hers was always much neater than his was.
Seeing her naked again distracted Daryl momentarily from the conversation they were trying to have. Her wet curls clung in places to her face and they still dripped a little onto her body. Daryl stepped forward, almost unable to control himself from doing it, and licked across her collarbone and shoulder where some of the water had run. Carol leaned into him, her breasts pressing against him, and again he went back to full salute.
"Ya fuckin' killin' me tonight," Daryl growled. "Ya gonna let me get close ta ya this time or ya gonna run again?"
Carol wrapped her arms around him and purposefully rubbed her body on him, making a quick movement up and down causing friction that sent a pulse all the way through him.
"I didn't run from you before," she said, leaning into him.
"Ya got out the shower," Daryl said.
Carol chuckled.
"Because I was cold! I got out to dry off, I told you that. I wasn't running from you. I waited on you, didn't I?" Carol responded.
"Ya waited on me for that?" Daryl asked, returning the rubbing motion with his body. Carol moaned at him.
"I didn't put any clothes on, did I?" She asked.
Daryl grinned and hooked his arms around her waist. She turned around quickly, but his arms still closed around her, catching her with her back to him. He kissed her neck, licking more of the water that was puddling there. He growled a little, pulling her back into him.
He would have never believed in his life, before he met Carol, that he would be as driven by sex as he was. He'd gone his whole damn life without it, after all. He just didn't need it. He'd heard Merle run his mouth about pussy this and pussy that and how pussy drove men crazy, but he had always chocked that up to just Merle being Merle and spewing more of his bullshit. He was starting to believe, though, that there was truth to what Merle had said because he did feel like there were times that Carol drove him completely out of his mind. There was nothing he could do to focus on anything when they were wrapped up in moments like this.
Carol walked forward and Daryl stuck right on her heels, keeping his feet outside of hers so he didn't accidentally step directly on the back of her feet. She laughed a little at him, tugging him forward.
"Ain't lettin' go," he said. He chuckled a little and bit down gently on the back of her neck, keeping his arms around her and his body pressed against her. "Ya ain't runnin' away."
Carol chuckled and bucked her ass back, causing Daryl to hiss in her ear.
"I wasn't running," she said. "In this position I can barely shuffle. I was thinking about trying to get to the dresser, though."
Daryl wrapped his arms a little tighter and hauled her back again, biting her neck in the same place with a little more force.
"Nah…" he said. "No dresser…don't need no clothes."
Carol chuckled again. She held still and turned her head a little. He kissed the side of her face in response.
"I was actually just thinking of using it for support. The position's not bad…but I'd like something to hold onto," she said.
Daryl let up a little then, but stayed right behind her, teasing her as she went toward the dresser.
"I ain't jokin'," he said, his tone of voice not being able to match his words since he was trying not to laugh at her, "ya make a run for it and I'm comin' after ya."
"Lincoln would love that," Carol said.
Carol braced herself on the dresser and Daryl kissed the back of her neck again, sliding his hands around and cupping her breasts.
"Ya sure ya wanna do it like this?" He asked. He slid his hand down the front of her, teasing her with his fingers and she bucked back into him. He knew one thing, whether she wanted to do it here or she wanted to go to the bed, he was all for it, but it was going to have to happen fast. She'd teased him to a point now where he wasn't even sure it was going to be half as exciting for her as it was for him.
"Yeah," she said, bucking back a little more.
"Gotta stop that shit or I ain't even gonna make it there," Daryl said.
Carol chuckled.
"Then get on about it," she said. "I'm ready…go head."
Daryl reached his hand down and tapped at her thighs, convincing her to spread her legs a little farther. He guided himself into her and thrust upwards, filling her in one move. She moaned out and he brought his hands around, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples between his fingers while he worked.
"If ya gonna…" he grunted, "better cum soon, woman."
Almost on command, Carol did come. The pulsing of her muscles around him working almost as permission to Daryl's body to give in and let his own release come. When he did, he leaned against her, pushing her against the dresser, his chin resting on her shoulder as they both worked to get their breathing under control.
"Good…" Carol panted. "So good…"
Daryl couldn't help but chuckle, kissing the side of her face again and then bringing his lips down to where he'd bitten her earlier and left a small pink mark. He kissed it, sorry that he'd left it there, but apparently she didn't seem to notice or mind.
"Ya was damn good yaself," Daryl said.
When he pulled his body away from hers, Carol slipped back into the bathroom.
"I'm ready for bed," she called from in there. "If you're ready, could you go and let Lincoln and do the rounds?"
Daryl waited for a moment.
"Ya ain't sick is ya? I didn't hurt'cha did I?" He asked, worried. Carol laughed.
"Good gracious, Daryl, no! I'm fine. I had to pee, that's all. You don't have to ask if I'm OK every five minutes. I didn't go put anything in your jar did I?" Carol called.
Daryl smiled.
"Nah…ya didn't," he said. "I'll be back."
Daryl walked through the house and let the dog out. He made the final rounds of turning everything off and making sure that everything was locked. When he let Lincoln back in he went to his cookie jar and stood there, naked in the kitchen, teasing the dog a moment with the milkbone.
"There ain't never nothin' in your jar but treats," Daryl said. "Ya don't know how lucky ya are that she thinks ya so damn cute. She don't even realize ya smell like a hound dog."
Lincoln sat on the floor, looking up at him and patiently waiting for the milkbone. Finally Daryl passed it to him and the dog went straight for his doggie bed. He'd come, soon enough, his toenails tapping on the floor to join them in bed, but he always had to eat his treat on his bed first.
Daryl slipped back through the house then and found Carol in bed. He flipped off the bedroom light and went over, immediately crawling under the covers on his side of the bed. He hovered over her, finding her in the darkness and wrapping his hands around her waist. He kissed her deeply and played with her tongue for a moment with his own.
"Gotta stop walking around the house naked," Carol said. "We're going to get caught one day and people aren't going to like it."
"Don't give a damn if they see my ass," Daryl growled, kissing her forehead. "Just means they ought ta learn not ta be lookin' through people's damn windows."
Carol giggled.
"Still, Daryl…at least put your boxers on, OK?" Carol said.
Daryl huffed.
"For me?" She asked.
Daryl chuckled.
"Fine, I'll wear my damn boxers next time I let the dog out ta take a piss," Daryl said.
He backed up a moment and hovered over her.
"What's wrong?" Carol asked. The night light plugged into the corner of the room didn't give off much light, but apparently it was enough for her to read his thoughts by.
"Ya sure Merle ain't done nothin' today that I need ta know about? He ain't hurt ya feelin's nor nothin'?" Daryl asked.
Carol smiled and leaned up, kissing him. She held the kiss a moment, gently biting at his lips when she pulled apart from him.
"I promise, Daryl. Everything's fine," Carol said. "Now I'm sleepy, so why don't you make me really happy and lie down here and snuggle me until I fall asleep?"
Daryl chuckled again. He brought his lips to hers, softly this time.
"I love ya, woman," he said, kissing her forehead before he shifted to the side and lifted his arm so that she could snuggle back against him.
"I love you too," Carol said.
She reached and pulled his arm around her, threading her fingers through his and pushing herself against him as she snuggled down into her pillow. Daryl kissed her shoulder. He found it hard to believe that his brother had been on good behavior…that was very unlike Merle…but he assumed it must be true because there was nothing in her demeanor to indicate otherwise.
Daryl finally decided to give up worrying. He brought his face close to her, inhaling her scent for a moment and then kissed the back of her neck before burying his own face in his pillow in anticipation of a good night's sleep.