Chapter Sixty-Five

A/n: Smut warning! This is your heads-up!

Lori looked out over the broad expanse of the room and smiled. Though Georgia brought with it mild winters, the state she'd called home for most of her life could still get downright chilly. Which made the warm toasty confines of the warden's office that much more special. Rick had been near frozen when he'd come back with an armload of firewood, but the roaring fire within the hearth had more than made up for his discomfort. Perhaps, he should have listened when she'd told him to grab his jacket.

The warm teak paneling of the walls and its built-in bookshelves make her think of a library, and she could only assume the previous occupant had been an avid reader. A rather well-to-do one at that, judging by the first editions lining one walls of shelving. Classics from the looks of them. Sophia had nearly had kittens when she'd seen them in such mint condition. The opulent area rug – now stained with walker gore from the group's effort to clear the building – had been carted out, leaving a nice hardwood beneath. She was thankful the carpet hadn't been wall to wall. Just imagining the mess and lingering smell would have put a damper on her plans and made her cringe. Every surface, nook and crevice had been cleaned in preparation of what she'd planned for her dearest friend and their hunter.

Maggie, Beth and Sophia had been all too willing to give up their free day to do something special for the two people in their group who saw to their comfort and protection. After losing four of their own yesterday, and thinking they'd lost Carol too, it only felt right to show her – even in this small way – how much they loved her … how much they loved them both.

Lori smiled at her husband as he followed the girls in with buckets of steaming water to fill the large wooden tub they used for laundry. "Sophia, did you find the bath salts I had in my bag?"

Sophia set her burden down with a groan and pulled them from the messenger bag slung over her shoulder. "You're lucky I'm a gifted klepto with Daddy lurking around. You'd think the man didn't trust me." She was already more than a little peeved Lori had made Rick send Carl out on watch without her. Apparently, they didn't think their son could hold up under Dixon pressure should Daryl become suspicious and corner him for answers.

Beth snickered. "He prob'ly thinks you're trying to sneak off with Carl."

Sophia whirled, her hands planting haughtily on her hips as she turned to glare at her friend. "Oh, not you too! If I sneak off with Carl, it's going to be either to kill something or go exploring. None of that handsy stuff you're always doin' with Randall."

The girl's jaw dropped open as her sister whipped around to stare at her. "Sophia Dixon, you take that back, right now!"

"Beth! You told Daddy this boy wasn't trying anything with you," Maggie hissed.

"He's not!"

"Uh-huh …"

"GIRLS!" Rick bellowed over the fight escalating, raising his hands up to restore order. "No one is accusing anyone of any hanky panky."

Lori hid a laugh behind her hand.

Sophia smirked. "Well, she started it."

"Yeah, and I finished it," Rick said, giving her a pointed look.

Just as easily, Beth was smiling too. "Geez, Rick, we were just joking."

Lori curled her hand around his bicep and led him to the door. "And thus concludes today's lesson on Teenage Girls 101. Thank you so much for coming," she drawled, still having trouble hiding her amusement.

Rick pressed a kiss to her temple as the other girls filed out behind him and he was able to lock the door. "Next time you want to lure me into one of your clever schemes … count me out."

She poked him in the ribs as they took the stairs to the foyer. "Don't be a spoilsport, honey. It's unbecoming."

"You'll be lucky if later you're not tending to an arrow hole in my ass. Daryl can smell bullshit a mile away"

Lori snorted. "Daryl Dixon is going to be so happy come morning, he won't know whether to comb his watch or wind his butt."

Rick stopped in the courtyard and stared down at her, his head cocked questioningly to the side. "Where'd you hear that turn of phrase? Carol?"

Lori sighed sadly and shook her head. "No … Dale."

*.*.*

"Th' fuck is her problem, anyway?!" Daryl growled, his spoon clattering to the table next to his bowl. Ever since the group – aside from those few on watch – had gathered together in the common room for dinner, Tessa had been glaring daggers at his wife.

"Daryl … don't," Carol whispered softly, her left hand reaching out to secure itself around his wrist, preventing him from rising. She met the woman's stare head-on across the room. She could see the pain riding her hard behind the anger she harbored. It was clear in her red-rimmed eyes and puffy nose; the tightness of her fingers as she clutched the bloody sleeve of the jacket she wore. "She's grieving for her sister in law. Please don't start a fight and make it worse."

His gaze swung to her, sadness alight in her crystalline eyes. He picked up his spoon and shoveled another spoonful of dirty rice and braised venison into his mouth, resigned to sit beside her and behave himself when what he wanted to do was get all up in her face. "She ain't got no right t' be lookin' at y' like that. Rick already told her what happened down there in solitary. What? She think she's th' only one hurtin'? The only one's lost somebody?"

Carol sighed and pushed her bowl away, wondering where Lori had gone. "Everyone deals with death in different ways. Tessa is angry because I survived, and Tori didn't. It's not like she can make me feel any guiltier than I already do."

Daryl took her hand in his, twining their fingers. "Y' ain't got reason t' feel guilty. We trained Tori jus' like everyone else. But we cain't make their choices for them."

Carol shook her head indulgently, refusing to argue with him. "Finish your dinner so we can go to bed."

"That your way o' changin' the' subject?" he grinned. "Tryin' t' distract me?"

Carol propped her chin in her hand, her eyes falling half closed as she regarded him, her lips parted in temptation. He shifted minutely in his seat as a surge of heat blazed a trail to his cock and he got lost within her gaze. "I do it … because you let me," she whispered for his ears only.

How was she able to do that, he wondered with an inward groan. He'd known women before, women he'd met he wouldn't give the time of day, but none of them had ever affected him like Carol. She could crook her dainty little finger and he'd be putty in her hands. Then again, he'd never met anyone he felt such a soul-deep bond with either. It was love. He'd do anything for her, even if she asked him to pluck the stars down and place them in her palm. He leaned in closer, watching her shiver as his breath ghosted across the shell of her ear.

Daryl was just about to suggest they take a stroll down to the newly discovered library when he heard it. It was like a bucket of ice water poured atop his head, and he could barely bite back an audible growl of frustration. Olive Oyl. Goddammit! His wife's best friend, mood-killer extraordinaire. The bringer of complaints, nagging and all manner of nasty things. Fuck! At least, she'd thought to bring Rick along, so he could drown out her unpleasantness.

Carol caught wind of his rapidly worsening mood and shot him a warning glare before the pair sat down with them at the table.

"Carol," Lori chimed, her eyes alight with mischief. Not at all what Daryl had been expecting to see there after all the losses … one of which had been Rick's best friend and her former lover. That even sounded wrong to him, and he ducked his head before he snorted in her face. His bullshit meter was pinging in the red. "How are you feeling?"

"Daryl's right," Carol said, arching a brow in the brunette's direction.

"About what?" Rick asked, looking up from his dinner.

"You're all a bunch of mothering hens. I'm fine." She reached out to squeeze Lori's hand to reassure her, ignoring Daryl's smug smirk. What man didn't like to hear themselves proven right?

Rick snorted, thinking Carol's description of Lori's need to hover was spot on.

Lori swatted sharply at Rick's arm, knocking his spoon from his hand. "Hush it. I'm allowed to worry about her if I wish."

"Well, there's no need. Hershel told me I would only need to rest for a few days, just to make sure I'm not suffering any lingering effects of the cold. Nothing to worry about."

Daryl listened with only half an ear to what Carol was saying to Lori, much more interested in what wasn't spoken between Rick and his wife. He hadn't missed Lori's subtle shifting or the slight grimace which contorted Rick's swarthy features. He suspected she'd kicked him under the table, and it was killing him not to know why. They were shit at subterfuge. The only thing missing was their partners in crime. "Where's Sophia?"

Rick's head jerked up, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. "Uh …"

Lori played it much cooler as she dug into her dinner. "She was here just a minute ago. Said she was going to grab something to eat and bring it to Carl on watch. Knowing her, she'll probably stay up there with him and Randall until their shift's over."

Daryl pushed himself to his feet with a nod. There was little to nothing Sophia could keep from him, and he was determined to know what this lot had been up to all afternoon. "Think I'll go check on them." He nudged Carol with the backs of his fingers as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. "Wanna come with?"

Rick grunted softly as Lori pinched his hip and covered it with a cough. "Aw, hell! I forgot that lantern over in the warden's office. Daryl, do you think y'all might swing over there and get it before you check on the kids?"

Lori shot him a look which clearly said, Seriously?! That's the best you could come up with?

To which he ignored. The hunter already looked as if he were ready to tear the former deputy's head off for wasting his time.

Daryl shook his head in disgust, but Carol agreed. "Sure, Rick. You shouldn't leave lit lanterns all over the prison, though. No telling when we'll find more fuel for them."

When they'd gone, the steel door of the cell block clanging like a death knell behind them, Rick released the breath – he hadn't realized he'd been holding – in a great huff. He stared at his wife incredulously as she spooned another bite of rice into her mouth as if nothing at all untoward had just transpired. He shifted his weight to his right hip and cocked his head to the side, waiting for her to acknowledge him. As his temper was about to reach its boiling point, Lori smiled.

"Never. Again."

Lori sighed. "Rick, darling, we have no TV, no internet, no X-Box. Blood and death and horror surround us on a daily basis and we never know how long this place … our good fortune, so far … is going to last. We have to find our fun where we can, and if it brings a little happiness to someone I care about … well, all the better."

"Fun?" he asked, his brows rising dubiously. "You call that fun, do you?"

"About as much fun as that betting pool the Marines started," she mumbled into her bowl.

"You knew about that?" he squeaked, his face leaching of all its color. If she knew even half of the wagers tossed into that pool, she'd string him up from the guard tower by his balls.

Lori reached over and patted his cheek affectionately. "I think it's so adorable you thought I didn't." A well-placed finger beneath his chin snapped his gaping mouth shut. "Now, eat your dinner."

*.*.*

A whistle drew their gazes to the watch tower as they stepped out of the block and ventured out of the courtyard, Sophia waving down at her parents. Carl was at her side, his mouth full of the dinner she'd brought out to him while Randall prowled along the catwalk. Jamie patrolled the path next to the fences, Alexandra at his side, their fingers entwined as they talked quietly with one another, all the while keeping a secure watch on their home. Carol waved back as Daryl led her towards the admin building and nestled close to his side. It was still difficult to see such normalcy – or at least what passed for normal in the new world – after the chaos of the previous day.

Now, Rick was sending him off on a fool's errand instead of allowing him to tuck his wife into bed … and burrow in after her. Maybe – though it was a big stretch – he might be able to get some sleep. Last night, it had eluded him. He'd lain awake until the first rays of dawn, watching Carol as she'd slept. He'd held her tightly against his chest, his long fingers stroking through her short silver curls, thanking any god who would listen for her safe return. It was no wonder he was feeling the weight of fatigue pressing in on his eyelids.

It was cold out, and he hurried the pace he'd set for them, wanting to get her out of the biting cold, especially after her exposure to the low temperatures in solitary. He let go of her but for a moment as he used his key to let them inside. The building had been cleared, and they'd wanted to make sure it remained so. There would be no more risk-taking after what that convict had pulled.

Carol pulled a small flashlight she kept in a pouch on her belt and shined it around the foyer. "You sure it's safe in here?" she asked as he drew her forward towards the stairs. "I know you and the others cleared the building, but are you certain –"

He stared down at her earnestly. "The building is sealed up tight. I wouldn't bring y' here if I was worried about more walkers gettin' in. Ain't takin' no chances o' y' gettin' hurt." That she'd even had to ask was testament to how shaken she still was from her experience in the tombs.

Some of the tension released from her shoulders, and she followed him up the stairs. "I still can't believe Rick was so careless as to leave the lantern in here. What could he have been th –" her softly uttered speech was halted, however, when she entered the room and plowed into her husband's back where he'd stopped abruptly before her.

"Th' fuck?" he growled, bewildered as his eyes took in every inch of the freshly scrubbed office. "Why would they …"

Carol stepped out from behind him, her eyes wide. It looked untouched to her eyes, the surfaces gleaming with cleanliness, as if it had been unaffected by the death and decay which had taken over the globe. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere that she could see, which gave her the chance to take in the rich appointments throughout the room, the overflowing bookshelves, polished hardwood floors and soft buttery leather furniture. Candles glowed along the hearth's mantel and massive oak desk, on end tables situated next to the sofa and chairs arranged before the roaring fireplace. It was a sanctuary, a space set aside for quiet reflection, a gift from their family.

Daryl frowned at the tears welling in her eyes. "Y' think they're tryin' t' tell us they don't want us in th' block with them?" he asked, completely bewildered.

She shook her head and made her way over to the desk where a folded piece of journal paper sat with her name on it. "No, I don't think that's it at all," she murmured as her fingers trembled over the paper.

"What's that?"

Carol shook her head. "I don't know … but it's Lori's handwriting."

"Well, open it … find out what all this is about," he encouraged her, setting his crossbow on the desk. He left her there to her privacy to lock the door and close the curtains. Anything to keep him busy and prevent him from intruding on what might be something she wanted to keep between her and her friend.

He snuck a few surreptitious glances her way as she read, his scowl growing darker as a tear or two managed to escape the confines of her lashes. It took a concerted effort to stop himself from ripping it from her hand and tossing it away. Instead he took in the rest of the changes which had been made to the room.

The laundry tub – that great round wooden monstrosity they carted everywhere – sat next to the hearth, tendrils of steam and the sweet smell of lavender wafting above its surface. He could only imagine the buckets of hot water the conspirators had been forced to heat over the campfire in the courtyard. He hadn't paid any attention to it earlier, thinking they'd been boiling the water for drinking. A change of clothes for each of them, and a stack of fluffy towels sat next to the tub, along with Carol's favorite bath puff and body wash. He was further surprised to find his kit next to it.

He dipped his fingers inside, testing the warmth of the water and sighing as the heat caressed his fingertips. Perfect … A rare gift of pleasure for his beloved wife. He knew how much she cherished a long soak, and it wasn't often she could even afford the luxury of a whore's bath. A grin formed on his lips as he envisioned her delight.

Daryl turned away from the tub, his gaze landing on the sofa. It was wide and soft and would easily hold the two of them comfortably together as closely as they slept. His cheeks darkened with heat as he took in the sheets and blankets covering it, already made up for them with Carol's quilt and his favorite lumpy pillow. Lori and her cohorts had gone to an awful lot of trouble to make Carol happy. Because, of course, he wouldn't believe any of this had been done for him.

A soft choked sound drew him back to her side as she leaned against the desk, the letter clutched tightly in her hand. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing … everything is just … I never realized how much our extended family loved us, Daryl," she cried softly, happy tears streaming over her cheeks. "Here … read this."

Daryl shot a wary look between her and the letter as he gripped it between two fingers, almost as if it were poisonous. He knew he was being ridiculous, but Carol's tears didn't give him the warm and fuzzies. When she cried for any reason, he felt as if live eels were writhing in his insides with no clear way to banish them. Her nod ushered him to hurry along as he flipped open the page and began to read the elegant scrawl …

Dear Carol –

Yeah, you're probably wondering what all of this is, huh? Surprise! *grin* Yesterday, I have to admit, was one of the bleakest moments in my life. We lost Shane and I had to watch my husband lose his best friend. We lost Andrea and T-Dog and Tori, and though I wasn't very close to them, they were still a part of my family. But it made me think … not one of them meant as much to me as you do, Carol. The thought of losing you … I can't. You're my sister. Not by blood, but by choice. I cannot imagine my life without you. You are the heart of our family, and we wanted to show you how much you mean to us … how much Daryl means to us, too.

Enjoy an evening with your husband locked safely away from prying eyes. Love one another and cherish the moment. No matter how safe we are behind these fences, the future is uncertain. You once told me to grasp my happiness with both hands and don't let go … for anything or anyone. Now it's time to heed your own advice. Have fun!

I love you—

Lori

PS. Don't worry about Sophia. She'll be bunking with us tonight.

Carol watched her husband as his eyes scanned the letter and then darted away, chancing a glance at her from beneath his fringe of bangs. She knew how hard it was for him to accept love after what he'd suffered. Yet, there it was in black and white for him to see, irrefutable proof he couldn't deny. She took the letter from him and tucked it away in her pocket as he swiped a hand over his face and then chewed for several moments at his thumbnail.

He cleared his throat of some of the emotion clogging it and dropped his hand. "They … um … they did all this for us … not jus' you?"

"Us," she affirmed, sliding her feet across the hardwood until she was standing before him, her hands coming to rest at his collar. "This proves what I've been saying for months now. You cling to the fringes of the group, Daryl, when your place is at its center. This is your family … our family. Brothers, sisters, kin." She leaned up on her toes to press her lips to his scruffy jaw. "Embrace it."

He didn't know if he could. It had taken him so long to let Carol and Sophia in, each day a struggle against his life's teachings. It was so ingrained in him not to trust anyone with his heart. They would see it as a weakness and tear it down. Yet, here they were, a group of adopted strangers including him in their circle of family, offering him friendship, understanding and love. How was he supposed to deal with this?! By running.

Or by, at least, changing the subject. He doubted Carol would appreciate him running off to brood in the woods, especially now that night had fallen. He glanced over his shoulder at the steaming tub before meeting her knowing eyes. He wasn't fooling her by the slightest. "Water's gettin' cold," he grunted.

Carol sighed, her mood changing in an instant. She knew when to push and when not, and now was not one of those times. She was going to savor every moment of the evening spent with him. "We wouldn't want that, now would we? Not after all the trouble they've gone to."

Daryl was still anxious, unsure of how to feel about their friends' gift, but he wasn't going to thumb his nose at an evening alone with his wife. They hadn't had time together in almost a week, and his body was eager for her touch as her clever hands sneaked up under the edges of his jacket and vest, pushing them off his shoulders. It was the first time he'd actually felt warm enough to get rid of his clothes. She shot him a gamine-like grin as she took the garments and laid them on an overstuffed chair, out of the way.

He needed this, needed her. The pain was still too close to the surface, his heart still in tatters with the thought of almost having lost her. The need to show her how much he loved her, how much a part of him she was, made him tremble with the force of it. Yet, he had to calm his raging desires. He wouldn't act the beast with her and scare her. His thumbs drew circles low on her hips as she went to work on the buttons of his shirt. "Y' know we ain't both gonna fit in that tub, right?" he asked, eyeing it over her shoulder.

Carol hummed as she tossed his button up over her shoulder to join his jacket and vest, distracted by the toned bare flesh she'd revealed. "We can still make it fun," she assured him, leaning forward to place a lingering kiss to the center of his chest. He shivered at her touch, and she slowly dragged her hands over his sides, her fingertips dipping into every scar as she mapped his flesh.

Daryl hissed as her nails scraped gently over his nipples and his hands shot out, gripping her upper arms in a fierce grip. "Y' keep that up an' we ain't gonna make it t' th' bath, woman."

Carol bit her lip, indecision warring on her lovely features as she tried to figure out which she wanted more … a bath or her husband. The thought of soaking her aching muscles in hot water won out and she stripped out of her clothes in record time, leaving Daryl to pick up behind her with a laugh.

A moan slipped past her lips as she stepped into the tub and lowered herself into the water, inhaling the lavender scented steam as if it were a drug. It permeated her every pore, soothing, relaxing, dragging her under its spell. For just a perfect moment in time, she could forget about the death and decay, the pain and hopelessness, the worry she lived with every damn day. "Oh, god, this is heaven," she murmured dreamily, her voice the only whisper of sound over the crackling fire.

Daryl dropped to his knees behind her after ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, bare but for his ragged jeans. It was worth any embarrassment or teasing he suffered when they went back to the block tomorrow morning, just to see the look of abject pleasure on his wife's face. He cupped his hands, dipping water into them to pour over Carol's short silver curls as she tipped her head back. "I'm glad they did this for y'. I know it's been hard on y' lately, not being able t' have a proper bath," he said gruffly, working a dollop of shampoo into her hair. "Hate it I can't get y' stuff y' need."

Carol turned her head and gave him an admonishing look. "You give me everything, Daryl. Creature comforts are just a bonus." She dropped a kiss to the corner of his mouth, just over his beauty mark before her eyes closed and she gave herself over to his tender ministrations. "We all have to make allowances at the end of the world."

He grew quiet, melancholy and rinsed the last of the soap from her hair. "Carol … "

She could hear it in his voice, that subtle edge of pain which he very seldom let her hear. She reached up to cover one of his hands with hers where it rested on her shoulder. "I know, love."

Daryl cleared his throat, fighting to put his feelings into words. "Yesterday … I cain't do that again, Carol … an' … an' I don't know how t' stop it. Seems everywhere we go, there's somethin' threatenin' t' take y' away from me."

Carol leaned back into his touch as he lathered the puff and dragged it over the nape of her neck and down the ridges of her spine. "I'm here, Daryl, and I'm going to stay here … with you … until I can't anymore. I'm never going to stop fighting for you."

He emitted a shuddering sigh and wrapped himself around her back, his arms crossing over her chest as he crushed her to him. He held her for a long time, peppering the ivory column of her throat with fleeting kisses. Finally, he relaxed and continued to bathe her until her skin glowed and her fingers pruned. She had him out of his pants before she'd even reached for a towel to dry herself, ushering him into the tub before the water cooled.

Daryl groaned as she attacked his shaggy hair, her nails scrubbing roughly against his scalp to rid it of what he'd missed the day before. He wouldn't be surprised to find walker gore he might have overlooked. "Y' ever wonder what it mighta been like if we'd met before th' turn?" he asked quietly. It was something he'd thought about more than once, and he needed a distraction from his body's response to her questing hands.

Carol pressed a kiss behind his ear, her lips smiling against his skin. "And just where would we have met?" She hummed, giving it some thought. "I would have brought the jeep into the garage where you worked. Yes, I could see it. I would have been trying to hide a black eye behind a huge pair of sunglasses, but I wouldn't have been able to take my eyes from you. I would have smiled. I wouldn't have been able to resist." A soft chuckle passed her parted lips to whisper hotly against the shell of his ear as she reached around him to scrub his chest. "You would have looked away and blushed at the attention, grumbling."

Daryl snorted, a small grin spreading across his lips as he imagined the scene she painted for him. He leaned back, relishing the feel of her satiny skin pressing into the mangled lines of his back. "Think y' know me so well. I mighta surprised y'. Mighta gone up t' y' and reached up t' take those glasses off y'. I mighta looked right into those gorgeous blue eyes an' asked y' t' go out t' dinner with me."

Carol listened to how he would have wanted it to go and let her hands drift lower, mapping the ridges of his abs, delighting in the way his muscles danced and twitched beneath her fingertips. "Would you have?" she giggled lightly. "Would you have convinced me to run away with you, baby?" she purred, dipping beneath the surface of the water, her hand brushing over the erection he couldn't hide.

"Naw … " he scoffed, his deep voice breathy with need as her fingers wrapped around his cock and stroked root to tip. "I woulda blushed an' run away like a big pussy. An' god forbid if Merle woulda been there t' see it. Never woulda heard th' end of it."

Her lips were relentless, searing the flesh beneath his ear as she worked him, the perfect pressure he liked, the exquisite feel of her palm tracing over the crown as she gave her wrist a sharp twist. Everything needed to have him growling low in his chest, his inner beast clawing its way to the surface to stake his claim on her. "I would have come back. I wouldn't have let you avoid me forever. You would have given me strength to take my life back." She nipped sharply with her teeth, pulling, suckling, drawing the blood to the surface to bear her mark. "You did, Daryl."

Carol gasped as he turned abruptly, his arms encircling her waist in a fierce grip. He dragged her back into the tub, water sloshing over the sides as he yanked her across his lap, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss filled with so much need, overwhelming desire, and soul-deep love, it nearly consumed her.

More water splashed out of the tub as her left hand fisted in his hair, her right bracing against his chest as she adjusted herself in the limited space and straddled his lap. His knees were bent and resting against her ass, setting her at an odd angle, but the way she was kissing him, any inhibitions she might have had caught a one-way ticket out of town, he couldn't have cared less about any discomfort he was in. Her heat burned him as it came to settle over his ever-hardening arousal, a definite contrast to the warm water. Every walker on the planet could be gathered outside the gate, Rick could have been doing a hat dance in the center of the block and Merle could be passing out acid to the governor's daughter and he wouldn't have cared. Nothing mattered but the precious woman in his arms. He doubted anything ever would again if he couldn't have her.

Carol broke the kiss with a gasp, her chest heaving, a wicked grin playing at her kiss-swollen lips. She hummed silkily, the sound sending a fresh surge of heat to his cock, her hips rocking lightly, teasingly, into his. His fingers dug into the perfect swell of her ass, dragging her closer to press up against her heat and he moaned as her grip on his hair tightened, her lips trailing along the column of his throat to his ear. "Well, Dixon … now you've got me where you want me, what do you plan to do about it?"

A/n: Mwahahaha! No, really … like it? hate it? don't care either way? Let me know, even if you just want to pop in to say I'm evil, awful, mean, etc. lol. I love writing for y'all. See you next time where we will pick up where Daryl and Carol left off. *hugs*