AN: So here we go, another update here!
As always, I'm always thrilled to hear from you and I'm glad you're still enjoying the story.
I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think!
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"So anyway," Carol said, leaning back in the chair in Michonne's office and picking at her Chinese food, "this guy shows up again at the Watering Hole and Andrea's flipping out about it so I waited on him…"
"What did you say his name was again?" Michonne asked.
"Philip," Carol said. "Philip Black or Blake or something like that…so anyway now we're watching out for the guy in case he's like serial killer or something come to wreak havoc on Sweet Junction."
Michonne wrinkled her forehead and filled her mouth with noodles, spinning herself in her chair a little with her foot.
"That name sounds familiar," she said when she swallowed. "Why does that name sound familiar?"
Carol shrugged.
"Maybe he's wanted for something?" Carol asked. "Andrea would really lose it then."
Michonne shook her head.
"I'm serious," Michonne said. "I feel like I know that name…did we got to school with him?"
Carol shook her head.
"No…at least I don't know him. It's kind of a common sounding name, though. It's not like it really jumps out at you," Carol responded.
Michonne shrugged.
"You're probably right," she said. "It's probably only familiar because I've probably passed over at least twenty of them in documents in the past week or so."
Michonne went quiet, focusing on the noodles she was trying to eat with chopsticks instead of just admitting, like Carol, that she needed a fork. Carol sat, looking around at the paneled walls in Michonne's dimly lit office. She thought that if she lived in these offices as much as Michonne did she'd either go crazy or go blind.
"So you never told me," Michonne said. "How did your dinner with the iconic Greene family go?"
Carol shrugged.
"I didn't eat dinner," Carol said. "That house was so hot, Michonne. I couldn't breathe and the baby was having no part of food in there."
Michonne frowned.
"I remember those days," she said. "I got sick when I got hot too. Didn't matter what I was doing, if I got hot it was game over. I kept the house set at Antarctica."
Carol snickered.
"Our house is pretty cold too…and then I get cold so I have to put on clothes, but I won't let Daryl touch the thermostat," Carol said.
"Other than that everything fine? Daryl behaving?" Michonne asked.
Carol nodded.
"Daryl's trying really hard," Carol said. "And the cookie jar idea…it just works. It's like even if we don't use it, it's just nice to have it there. The rest of the time at the Greene's was nice. We were going to bring pumpkins home to paint, but we're waiting for Miss Jo to pick some pretty ones."
Michonne grinned.
"Painting pumpkins? Seriously? Who the hell are you two?" Michonne asked.
Carol rolled her eyes.
"Now you sound like Andrea," Carol said. "She's always giving us a hard time about being disgusting and stuff."
Michonne shook her head.
"I'm teasing. I'm glad the two of you make each other happy. I wouldn't have it any other way. If you want to paint pumpkins, then by all means, paint a whole damn patch," Michonne said.
"Beth Greene asked when we were getting married," Carol said. She made a face at Michonne.
"Now that is not a face that goes with painting pumpkins," Michonne said. "What's wrong?"
Carol shrugged.
"I don't know…we haven't talked about it. I don't know if I want to marry Daryl," Carol said. "I'm scared he's going to ask me and I'm not going to know how to answer."
Michonne wrinkled her eyebrows.
"I thought you were all in love with him," Michonne said.
"I do love him," Carol said.
"So if you love him and you're having a baby together then why would you even need to think about whether or not you want to marry him? Am I missing something?" Michonne asked.
"Would you marry Tyreese if he asked you?" Carol asked.
Michonne leaned back in her chair, leaving her cardboard box of lunch on the desk. She fiddled with one of her dreadlocks while she considered it.
"I don't know," she said. "I mean…I haven't thought about it, but I guess I would."
"But you hesitated," Carol said. "Why did you hesitate?"
Michonne shrugged.
"Because I haven't thought about it," she said. "I don't know. I mean I don't have anything against marrying him."
"I guess," Carol said, "I just worry that things would change if we got married. What if we got married and Daryl felt like he was trapped? What if he felt like that was the only reason he was there? Or what if something happened with the baby? I mean he says that it wouldn't matter to him and that he's not just with me because of that…but things change when you get married."
Michonne snorted.
"Carol…" Michonne said. "Yes, things change when you get married. Your last name changes…your taxes change…all kinds of things change, but I don't think that a piece of paper that changed your last name to Dixon is going to change who Daryl is fundamentally."
Carol sat back. She knew she was being ridiculous. She felt ridiculous. She argued with herself about all the feelings she was having, but it didn't stop them from being there. She hadn't figured out how to switch them off and put them away. They kept popping back up like demented jack in the boxes springing out to torture her a little more when she'd finally shoved the lid back down in them.
"It did with Ed," Carol said. "He was never…he wasn't like he was before we got married. It was like a switch got flipped."
"You didn't live with Ed before you married him either," Michonne said. "People can talk all the shit they want and vomit Bible verses and everything else all over me if it makes them happy, but I still say one of the very best things that people can do before they get married is live together…and not just for a day or two. Really get in there and live together."
"No, I didn't live with him before," Carol said. She made a face.
"I'm telling you," Michonne said. "Think about it. When you live with someone for a while, it's all out on the table. You end up knowing the good, the bad, and the really, really ugly. When you don't live with someone they've got time to paint the picture they want you to see. Daryl's not painting you any pictures right now."
Carol nodded. It was true that they were as relaxed around each other as they could be. She was sure, some days at least, that Daryl should turn tail and run just from looking at her. She knew what she looked like these days when she'd just spent the morning being sick, but he didn't seem to even notice. He usually slipped in the bathroom, rubbed her back, and offered her a washcloth. Things like that, but he never said anything to her about looking terrible.
In fact, the strangest thing to her was that Daryl didn't seem to like it when she wore make up. He liked a little mascara or some lip gloss, but if there was enough there that he could really tell she had it on, he didn't care for it. And it wasn't the same way that Ed had been about it. Ed had always had a fit when she'd worn make up. He'd always lashed out and accused her of being a whore. He'd said she was trying to get some man's attention or this or that. Daryl didn't like it because he said it didn't look like her. It was almost like he preferred her without the bells and whistles because she was just plain…and he liked plain. She would have almost considered it an insult, but there was something so sweet about the way he acted about it that she couldn't have taken it for an insult if she'd wanted to.
She felt like there wasn't much bad or ugly about Daryl though…there wasn't much to see when it came to that. The worst thing about him was that he was hard headed about doing things his way, and sometimes he got moody when things weren't working how he wanted them to work, but she felt like since his time with his brother had been limited more by his move, Daryl didn't even have as many moody moments as he'd once had.
"I guess you're right," Carol said. She sat there a minute and then shook her head sighing. "I know you're right, Michonne, but it doesn't stop me from worrying about things."
"You've got to get a hold on that," Michonne said. "I know you like to worry like it's a hobby, but you need to work on it. You're worried about Daryl and I really think that you don't have to be. I think you're seeing all the cards that Daryl's holding right now. You worry about the baby all the time too, and you need to stop that. You're going to be the worst thing to happen to this baby if you don't calm down. Stop freaking out about things. Just sit back and enjoy the fact that for once in your life things are going well. Consider it God paying you back for the hell you suffered with Ed."
Carol groaned. Michonne was right. She knew she was right, but it seemed so much easier some days to know something than it was to actually believe it. It was like her brain was split in two and there was one half that knew the information and then there was the other that tried to convince her that everything she knew was a lie.
"You know what I feel like?" Carol said after a few minutes.
"God I hope it's like a milkshake because I'd pay you to run to the Dairy-O and pick us some up," Michonne said, her eyes getting big for a moment.
Carol chuckled. She wasn't actually thinking about food…she was pretty full from lunch, but now that MIchonne had said it, one of the Dairy-O's milkshakes did sound really good.
"I wasn't talking about food," Carol said. "But I will get us milkshakes if you want one…I was going to say that I feel like those cartoons you used to see. You know the ones where there's like a devil sitting on one shoulder and an angel on the other? I feel like I've got those things sitting on my shoulder all the time. One of them tells me that things are going to be fine, but the other one is an asshole and he just sits there telling me that it's all going to fall apart."
"Nothing's going to fall apart," Michonne said with a sigh. "As much as I hated for people to say it to me, I'm going to say that it's just hormones or something like that driving you crazy. You're already a pretty amped up person, and the hormones just kick whatever you've got going against you into overdrive. You never saw anything more intense than me on a cleaning spree when I was pregnant. I was convinced that you could see germs."
Carol laughed. She got up and dropped her empty lunch plate in the garbage can.
"Fine…I'm going to calm down and drive to the Dairy-O," Carol said. "What do you want?"
"Mint chocolate chip…and tell them not to cheat me. I want whipped cream too," Michonne said. She pulled her purse up and passed Carol a check. "We'll put it on the books as a business expense. I want ice cream and all the clients whose cases I'm working on today want me to have ice cream."
Carol took the check and shook her head.
"Does your dad ever wonder about the business expenses?" Carol asked. Michonne's father was a quiet old man. He seemed pretty stern, perhaps a little controlling and maybe that's where Michonne got it from, but she liked him.
"I'm Daddy's little girl," Michonne said with a smile. "I haven't done anything wrong since I was probably four and figured that out."
Carol smiled. She could see that. Michonne's father didn't smile much, but he did smile at Michonne. Carol understood it a little. She'd been Daddy's little girl herself until her father passed away. Her heart clenched a little when she thought about it and she folded the check into a small square while she stood there, distracting herself from the memory.
"I'll be right back," she said.
"Take your time," Michonne said. "I don't have any appointments for the rest of the day so it's not like I'll be beheading anyone in your absence."
Carol waved slightly at her and turned, heading out the door.
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Carol was glad that Merle hadn't come by to work on his bike. By the time that she got home from Michonne's she was exhausted and didn't feel at all like dealing with Merle's mouth. Even though he didn't launch into his philosophical speeches as often since he was working on the bike, he was still too much when all you wanted to do was collapse onto the sofa and not move.
Carol pulled the pork chops out of the freezer and tossed them into the sink. She let Lincoln out into the yard and went to rest her eyes on the couch for just a moment.
That was exactly where she was when she woke up, swiping at her nose itching.
When she opened her eyes, Daryl was standing above her, grinning, and dancing some piece of string that he'd found somewhere or another under her nose. She swiped at it again.
"Thought I was gonna have ta do some damn CPR or shit on ya," Daryl said. "How long ya fuckin' been unconscious for?"
Carol sat up, realizing she'd fallen asleep. Her head was swimming and she wasn't entirely back in her element.
"Oh God! I don't know…Daryl where's Lincoln?" Carol asked.
Daryl frowned.
"About that…" he said.
Carol felt her stomach clench.
"Daryl! Where's Lincoln!" She asked, gaining her feet, perhaps a little too quickly. Daryl stuck his hand out and caught her by the arm.
"Calm down, woman. He's in the yard, but he can't come back in 'til I get out there an' wash him. I hope ya weren't fond a none a' that damn grass that was startin' to grow 'cause he thinks he's part earthworm or some shit an' he's damn near dug every bit a' it up," Daryl said.
Carol put her hand over her chest. Her heart was already pounding.
"I fell asleep…I forgot he was out there. I wasn't going to sleep long, I only meant to just close my eyes…" she said.
Daryl pulled her to him and wrapped an arm around him.
"Damn, calm down. Ya took a fuckin' nap not robbed a bank!" Daryl said. "Dog's fine. He's dirty as fuck but he's so damn happy about it ya wouldn't believe it."
"I've got to make dinner," Carol said. "I haven't even started it…" She wrapped her arms around Daryl and buried her head into his chest.
"So make dinner an' I'll wash the dog…but first ya gotta come see what Miss Jo sent'cha," Daryl said. He pulled away from her and started out the door and Carol followed behind him. They stepped out the side door and on the ground next to the step Daryl had arranged three pumpkins of differing sizes. He grinned at her. "She sent'cha a pumpkin family…even found ya a baby pumpkin. Got some paint and shit in the house but she said be sure ta wash her brushes out."
Carol thought she might cry over the pumpkins and she thought that would be pretty hard to explain to Daryl.
"Can we paint them tonight?" She asked.
Daryl chuckled.
"They're your fuckin' pumpkins," Daryl said. "Ya can do what'cha want with 'em."
"Let's paint them after dinner," Carol said.
Daryl shrugged.
"Whatever the hell ya want, woman," Daryl said.
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After the pumpkins were painted and Carol had arranged them like she wanted them, it hadn't taken much to convince Daryl to take a shower with her. She stripped down and stepped into the shower a few moments before he got in, the water spraying down over them.
"The only thing I don't like about this house is that the bathtubs aren't bigger," Carol said when he was in the shower with her. He dipped his head and kissed her neck, sucking at the water there. The motion sent a shiver through her. It was evident that the last thing on Daryl's mind at this moment was an actual shower.
"Seems plenty big ta me," he said. He turned her a little and pressed her against the wall, his mouth almost frantic as he moved over her jaw and neck, his tongue lapping at her collarbone. Carol felt her breathing picking up pace just from the kissing and the anticipation of what was coming.
"I meant to actually get in the tub," she said. She swallowed and moaned without even meaning to when his hands went to her breasts, pinching and tugging at her nipples. She bucked forward, into him, and he hissed a little.
Daryl pulled away from her a bit and grabbed her shoulders, turning her around and pushing her down toward the end of the tub. She didn't protest. She knew that she wanted this just as much as he did and however he chose for it to happen was more than agreeable for her. When Daryl's hands snaked around her, harassing her breasts again, Carol bucked back into him.
He leaned in and chuckled a little, biting at her ear, his tongue trailing over it as he held it gently between his teeth. When he moved his mouth had growled at her before nipping the back of her neck and she ground back into him again, making him chuckle once more.
"Pumpkin's turn ya ass on, huh?" He asked.
"Mmmm mmm," Carol moaned.
"They don't?" Daryl asked, slipping his hand between her legs and teasing her with his fingertip. Carol leaned forward and rested her head on the cool wall.
"No," she panted. "You do."
"I do, huh?" Daryl asked with a chuckle. "It's hot when ya talk sexy, ya know that?" Daryl asked.
"Mmm mmm," Carol said. She wasn't really used to saying a whole lot in bed. She'd never wanted to say anything to Ed that he would have wanted to hear and even if she had she wouldn't have wanted to know what he would do about it. With Daryl she had never exactly gotten into it. Mostly she felt dirty if she even indicated to him at all that she did or didn't like something. It always made her face burn hot to even think about it. He was teasing her now, though, and she could hardly stand it. He kept running his fingertips against her, barely brushing her, just enough to make her almost want to scream, and the damn thing was he was getting a kick out of it.
"I think I want'cha ta ask me," Daryl said. He rubbed against her with his body, his teasing not letting up. Sometimes he wanted her to say please.
"Please, Daryl," she said, giving in.
"Nope," he said. He sucked at the back of her neck and flicked her nub causing her to whimper without even meaning to. He chuckled.
"Please what?" He asked. "Tell me what'cha want an' I promise ya gonna get it."
"I want you," Carol said, she felt her cheeks already start to burn.
"Want me ta do what ta ya?" Daryl asked. "Ta stop?"
"Daryl, please?" Carol asked. She turned a little, searching him out. She knew what he wanted but she didn't feel comfortable talking like that, even to him.
"Come on," Daryl urged, kissing the side of her face. "Ya can do it," he teased.
Carol sighed. She didn't know why it was so hard for her, but she didn't feel like the kind of person who asked someone to do sexual things to her. At best she really felt more like the kind of person who wanted to thank Daryl for his interest. Suddenly the feeling bubbling up inside her over not wanting to have to say the words was almost more than her desire to have him inside her. She turned halfway around, looking at him.
Daryl's face fell and she could tell that her facial expression probably showed him that she'd moved beyond enjoying the little game of the moment. Carol shook her head.
"I don't like it…" she said. "I'm sorry…but I just don't want to…I don't want to say it," Carol said.
Daryl frowned.
"Sorry," he said. "Ya ain't really gotta say it. Just don't start cryin' OK? Ya been doin' that a lot when we tryin' ta have fun an' I don't feel like ya havin' a real good time when ya cryin' the whole damn time."
Carol wished he hadn't said it because saying it made her feel like she wanted to cry. She took a deep breath and resumed her position. After a moment, Daryl very hesitantly brought his hands back to her breasts and she knew that he was nervous now about whether or not he should continue. She closed her eyes again and let herself get swept back up in the feeling of him touching her.
Her breathing started to pick up pace and she felt him teasing her again. This time she felt him nudging her feet with his own and she spread her legs out for him bracing herself on the shower wall. He'd teased her when she'd bought the butterfly traction stickers to go in the bottom of the tub, but as she felt her foot slip a little before hitting one she thought to herself that he'd figure out before long they were a good idea.
Daryl put one hand on her hip and she gasped a little at the feeling of him suddenly filling her. He paused a moment, resituating himself, and then he found a rhythm that he liked. It was one that she liked too and she leaned her head forward. One of his arms wrapped around her waist and his other hand came beside hers on the wall as he picked up the pace.
Carol cried out when she came and it echoed through the bathroom. He tightened his grip on her waist and increased his pace more, driving into her harder until he found his own release. As he came down, he kissed her shoulder and she fought the urge to relax to a point that would have her finding her knees on the shower floor.
Daryl held onto her, turning her around as he calmed. She found his mouth, kissing him.
"One a' these days," he said when he pulled his mouth away from hers. "Ya gonna feel like ya can say it…all of it, an' then I'm gonna make damn sure it's the best ya ever got."
Carol leaned against his chest, kissing him and rubbing her face against him.
"Maybe one of these days I'll say it," she said. "But it's always the best…"
Daryl rubbed her back and hugged her against him for a moment before suggesting that they actually use their shower for the purpose that it was intended for. Carol didn't mind. She had half a mind that when they made it to the bed she was going to suggest they use it for other purposes besides sleeping as well. She might not be able to say it as flavorfully as others, but that didn't mean she wasn't all for doing it.