AN: Hi everyone. A little more plot/character development keeping us slowly moving along in this story.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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"Ya hear that?" Daryl asked Carol while they were lying in bed, pretending to be going to sleep, but really both just lying there.

"What?" Carol asked.

Daryl sighed.

"The sweet damn sound a' that fuckin' doll bein' outta the damn house," Daryl said, shifting around to lie on his side and face Carol. She turned her head, smiling at him.

"I'm sorry the doll wasn't what you thought it would be," she said. "I know you were looking forward to it."

Daryl grunted.

He was relieved to have the damn thing gone, and no…it hadn't been what he'd thought it would be at all. As soon as the damn thing simply wouldn't shut up for shit, he'd realized he hated the doll.

"What if you feel the same way about the baby?" Carol asked a few minutes later.

Daryl had admitted in their class, when they were supposed to be talking about their experiences with the doll, that he had decided he hated it. He really thought there was something wrong with theirs. He'd listened while most of the other couples talked about what a wonderful experience it had been, how it had made them more excited about their own child, and so on and so forth, but Daryl hadn't felt that way about it.

By the third day the little possessed doll had lived with them he'd considered giving it to Lincoln as a chew toy. It hadn't made him think about the baby at all, other than to decide that he was pretty sure no real baby could be as damn hard to please as the piece of plastic.

"Ain't gon' feel that way 'bout Lil' Bit," Daryl said, trying to reassure Carol and reaching out, stretching his hand over her stomach.

Carol covered his hand with her own and sighed, resting back with the other tucked behind her head.

"But you might," she said. "What if she cries all the time? What if neither one of us has any idea what to do to make her happy?"

Daryl gnawed at his lip and then chuckled.

"Hell…she can't be bad as that doll was…" Daryl said. "I reckon even if she was, though, don't'cha think it'd be different if she was our kid?"

"Would it, though?" Carol asked. "I mean you don't think we'd eventually go crazy because she just wouldn't stop no matter what we did?"

Daryl considered it again.

He hadn't been around many kids, but he'd noticed with Michonne in particular that parents were different with their kids than they were in any other situation. He figured Michonne to be about the cleanest and most put together woman he'd ever seen in his life…and she could be quick to get grossed out about some simple stuff…yet he'd seen her do some pretty gross shit without even flinching when it came to her rug rats.

Daryl rubbed Carol and etched his body closer to hers.

"Yeah…it'd be different. Ain't sayin' we wouldn't go fuckin' nuts sometimes…but hell that's when we pack her up ta go an' spend some time with Merle an' Andrea," Daryl said with a chuckle.

Carol laughed at him.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," she said. "Merle and Andrea?"

"Hell, ya let Andrea babysit Lincoln while we was gone ta the mountains an' he made it," Daryl said.

"That's Andrea," Carol said. "She pretends she doesn't have a maternal bone in her body…but it's mostly for show."

Daryl yawned a little.

"I think most a' Merle an' Andrea both is for show," he said. "Would take ya a long damn time ta dig down deep enough ta figure out what the hell they both got hid under all that bullshit. I figure Merle's doin' some serious diggin' in his own pile, though."

Carol shifted, her attention drawn.

"Why do you say that?" She asked.

Daryl chuckled. There was nothing like potential gossip to get someone's attention.

"Ain't got no specific damn reason for sayin' it," Daryl said. "I just figure Merle means this shit this time…I think he's really tryin' ta figure out how ta be…hell, less like fuckin' Merle."

He wasn't going to rat his brother out and let Carol know that he was planning on putting a down payment on a house. He wasn't going to let her know, either, that Merle had a diamond tucked away for when and if he ever got the balls to decide that he might actually like to give married life a try.

It wasn't that Daryl didn't want to tell her, but he knew that she wouldn't be able to keep it a secret from Andrea. She'd probably try as hard as she could, but somewhere, something would slip out, and Daryl figured that it would mean more if proof of Merle's determination to change came directly from Merle.

"Let's get some sleep," Daryl offered, knowing that if they tried to continue the conversation that Carol would keep asking him questions in hopes of finding out if he had any information at all.

Carol made a clucking noise at him to say that she disapproved of him not wanting to continue a conversation that had her interest, but she shifted around Daryl curled up against her, his arm resting over her chest. He leaned up, kissing her on the cheek before dropping his head beside her and closing his eyes for the night, thankful that they wouldn't spend the entire night listening to the mechanical howls of the stupid doll that they'd so thankfully returned to the class.

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Daryl was sitting on the floor, his back against the couch, ignoring the fact that Anjelica was happily using him as a jungle gym as she climbed over his head onto the couch and then back down again.

Carol glanced over there from the kitchen from time to time, almost laughing at him. She wasn't interested in whatever conversation Tyreese, Merle, and Daryl were engaged in, rather she was fascinated by the fact that Daryl didn't seem to mind the appearance of tiny feet in his face on his shoulders, and climbing up and down his body, and the only time he even looked mildly bothered was when one would sink sharply into the softer skin of his stomach or the few times that she'd been positive that Anjelica had all but pounced on his nuts.

He didn't get mad, though, he'd just grunt or groan and move the child, his discomfort making her laugh far more than it probably should.

Still, Carol thought it was cute to watch, especially considering that the oldest girl was arguably the more difficult of Michonne's girls to "win over".

Carol turned her attention back to the cooking that she was supervising while Michonne and Andrea were doing most of the work.

"So what do you think?" She asked, picking up the thread where she'd left off.

"You've got to do what's going to make you happy," Michonne said. "It's your choice. You're the one that's got to go through it."

Carol groaned at the general lack of help her friend was being. They'd been discussing birthing plans in class and it had her stirred up a little just thinking about it. It was an inevitable event, but it didn't mean that it didn't make her at least a little uncomfortable.

"I don't know," Carol said. "I mean…I think I'd like to do natural to have the experience…but I just don't know after watching those videos if I can even do that."

Michonne chuckled and popped one of the raw carrot slices into her mouth that was on the counter in front of her.

"You can do it…everyone can," Michonne said. She turned around, waving the knife a little at Carol while she made her point. "That's not to say that there won't be moments when you think you can't, but you can."

"What did you do?" Carol asked.

She'd had the conversation with Daryl, but he hadn't been helpful in making a decision with her. He'd spread the pamphlets out in front of her at the table, expressed that they should do what she liked best, and offered to be there to hold her hand and be her coach…because that was supposed to be so very helpful when the blessed event took place.

Michonne shrugged.

"Both," she said. "I had Angie au naturale and I had drugs with Celine."

"So which was better?" Carol asked.

Michonne put the knife down and turned around, her hands going to her hips.

"Is Daryl pressuring you in any way?" Michonne asked, wrinkling her brow.

Carol glanced into the living room where all the men were oblivious to what was going on in the kitchen, their interest held over some discussion about television as far as she could tell.

Carol shook her head.

"He said whatever I want to do is fine," Carol said. "The problem is that I don't know what I want to do. I feel like I'm supposed to do the whole natural thing…but then I don't know if I can or if I want to."

"Can and want to are very different things," Michonne said. "And it's good Daryl's not pressuring you. Besides…let's get one thing straight…they're both natural."

"How do you figure that?" Andrea piped in. She'd remained relatively quiet until now, mostly focusing on chopping things and every now and again jokingly expressing the fact that they were essentially discussing Carol's vagina while cooking dinner.

"Childbirth is the only damn medical event where society puts using medication to control your pain out there as a bad thing," Michonne said. "Either way, it's a medical event and the same thing is going to take place. Take a look at Exhibits A and B in the living room. One was born with me not using drugs, the other was born with me using drugs. If I hadn't told you which was which, you wouldn't have known."

Michonne paused a minute, but it was clear she wasn't done with her train of thought.

"And besides," she continued, "if you were going to get a tooth pulled…would anyone really make a big deal over whether or not you wanted novicaine or not? No…they wouldn't. They'd just assume that if there was something to make it feel better then you'd want it. Our society doesn't feel the same way, though, when it comes to women's vaginas…and that's just because men can't have babies. I guarantee you if they could you'd never hear another peep about the difference."

Carol and Andrea both chuckled. Michonne was easy to get wound up about some things, and when she got going it was best to just let her go.

"I can tell you what I'd want," Andrea said.

"What?" Carol asked, her mind still not made up entirely.

"I'd want someone to knock me out…and I mean hammer to the head out until the kid was ready to graduate high school," Andrea said. She paused a moment, transferring food from one location to another. "Scratch that," she continued. "It's me and Merle we're talking about…kid's not making out of high school. Maybe I'd just have you wake me up when it gets out of its last stint at Juvy. I'd like to see my little cupcake before he headed off to the Big House."

Carol laughed and Michonne did too, in spite of her earlier irritation at the thought of childbirth practices.

"It's not all that bad," Carol said. "Your kid could end up being better than mine, you never know."

"Mmmm…and I'm not aching to find out," Andrea said. "You can have mine."

"Well," Michonne offered, "it's really not that bad. You can handle whatever you decide that you want to do, but the important thing is that you do what you want to do because it's what you think will make you the happiest with the experience. It's your body and it's your experience. You should decide what will make you happy and to hell with anyone else."

"So what would you do if you had to do it again?" Carol asked.

Michonne shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't know…I'd have to see how I felt. There were pros and cons to both. Honestly? I think things went more my way with Angie than with Celine, but I don't know what I'd do," Michonne said.

Carol sighed and rubbed at her belly. She felt ridiculous that she was nervous about this, and she felt a little ridiculous saying that she was nervous to a woman who was a veteran and had two children not too terribly apart in age, but she had accepted Michonne's assurance that it was completely normal to worry a little bit about it and that she wasn't the first woman to think about it too hard…and it didn't make her some kind of scaredy cat or make her look weak.

At least she still had time to decide. Carol glanced back over at Daryl who was now doing more playing with Anjelica than anything while the girl stood, balancing with one foot on either of his thighs, and holding his hands. At least she had Daryl behind her as a support system. She didn't really think that he was going to be as helpful as he thought he'd be when it all came down to having the baby, but at least he was on her side, and there was something to be said for that.

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Daryl pretended that he believed that the reason Michonne bought the high chairs that Tyreese brought in before dinner to leave at their house was just because of her girls, but he also knew that she knew they didn't have a high chair…and her girls had eaten just fine before perched in someone's lap for all the interest they had in food when there were so many people gathered together.

He appreciated it, though, and understood that she felt the need, for whatever reason, to do the little things she did and try to hide them when she could. So she'd brought two new high chairs to leave there…making it legitimately one for each of her children.

He also appreciated that she just so happened to have a brand new car seat and carrier for a newborn baby that was, as luck would have it, crowding up her attic and getting in the way of her putting away her Christmas decorations so she had to have it out of there. They were doing her a favor, really, by just happening to need one for when the baby came.

And Merle had surprised both Carol and Andrea both, since they were apparently the only two without a clue of what had happened, when he had announced to the entire group that he'd met with Tyreese, signed the papers, and put a down payment on the house next to theirs that had been ready for some time but hadn't been picked because apparently it wasn't the best lot in the neighborhood.

Tyreese explained, of course, that it had come to Merle at a better price due to it's less than desirable location, but Daryl could smell Michonne all over that one too if he had to make bets. And Merle would be pleased with the lot because being next door to each other would be beneficial in a lot of ways.

"Ya gon' help us move, brothah?" Merle asked, all smiles over the reaction that his announcement had brought.

Andrea looked like she couldn't breathe, Carol looked like she might cry, and everyone else just looked pleased.

"Fuck ya gotta move? Don't neither one a' ya got shit!" Daryl declared.

He did wonder if Michonne was coming to their rescue because it was the truth, they didn't have anything. Between them they officially had a window to throw it out of, but they lacked the pot to piss in.

Merle grunted.

"Reckon we gotta go shoppin'," Merle said. He looked across the table at Andrea and if Daryl hadn't been looking closely enough he would have missed the little wink his brother made. "Saved up a couple bucks…'nough ta buy us a bed, I reckon…maybe a lil' somethin' else here or there."

"I've got a ton of towels and sheets and things," Michonne offered. "I've got enough stuff that my mother has given me that I'll never be able to use it all."

Carol nodded.

"She really does have a lot," Carol said with a giggle. "I went shopping in her attic for nearly everything we have."

Michonne shrugged, shoveling a forkful of food into her mouth and looking toward Tyreese.

"Ty might have some furniture that you could buy off him," Michonne said.

Tyreese shrugged and nodded.

"Hell, I'm cleaning my house out," he said. "I don't need anything in that place. It's not the best, though."

"Well we're not exactly royalty," Andrea offered, her cheeks red. "Anything would do and we'd appreciate it."

Tyreese chuckled.

"Hell, get it out of the house and you can have it. Anything you can haul, you can have. It'll save me having to figure out what to do with all of it," he said.

"Good damn deal," Merle growled. He rested his arms on the table on either side of his almost empty plate. "What'cha say now, Daryl? Seems we just come inta a few items needs movin'."

Daryl chuckled and shook his head, reaching for another of the biscuits that were left in the plate in the middle of the table.

"What damn choice I got?" Daryl asked. "I'll help ya move ya shit…or his shit that's gonna be ya shit…however the fuck that works."

"Now the most important question is," Michonne said, directing her attention at Andrea, "what color are you going to paint your shutters?"

Daryl didn't understand what was so funny, but Andrea, Michonne, and Carol all three broke into a howling laugh that lasted at least a couple of minutes with no explanation to anyone.

Daryl finally ended up laughing, along with Tyreese and Merle, not so much at the joke as they were at the fact that there was apparently something hilarious about shutters…and it was something that only women seemed to understand.

And even though they loved them, Daryl knew that he and neither of the other two men at the table would ever pretend to think they fully understood women.