AN: Yes! The Governor is dead! And now we enter the realm of anything is possible. ;-)

I hope you enjoy!

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Daryl came into the cell with a bowl of water and put it on the table. Michonne looked at him.

"Carol said you might want a bath and it might make you feel better." Daryl said. "Thought you might rather have me help ya than her." He smiled.

"I can do it myself." Michonne said.

"Oh can you?" Daryl said with an evil grin. Michonne glared at him. He knew she hated to be challenged more than anything, but he liked to mess with her. Daryl knew that her glare was just because she was uncomfortable and annoyed having to lie in bed for the past two days. Daryl went and sat in the chair in the cell, looking at Michonne. "Well go ahead."

Michonne had not actually considered, until now, how she was going to get up on her own when the time came. She was stiff and her body ached. Hershel had fashioned a sling for her left arm, making her wear it in the bed so she wouldn't accidentally move it while she slept. She'd admitted to him that she really had little desire to move it right now. He'd also banished Daryl back to his perch so he wouldn't accidentally hurt her at night.

On top of her aching body, the little bit of a belly that she had wasn't going to help her in any way. She tried first to just sit straight up, but immediately knew that she wasn't going to be able to do that.

Daryl watched Michonne struggle for a second. He hated the pained look on her face, but her resistance almost made him laugh.

"Can I help you now?" He asked.

"I said I can do it." Michonne said.

"Boy, oh boy, do I got me a hard headed woman!" Daryl said, grinning. He watched her a few more minutes. He had to admit that she was being pretty creative in her technique, but it just wasn't time yet. She needed to realize that she had just wait it out for a little while.

"Now?" He asked. She just glared at him and continued to try to sit up. "Oh, it's OK, take your time. As long as I'm with you I don't have to do nothin' else and you're the one who's gonna have to take a bath with cold water, so I ain't in no hurry." He said. Michonne stifled a laugh.

"Stop it!" She said. "Don't make me laugh. Are you enjoying seeing me in pain?" She asked.

"Nah, 'Chonne, I don't enjoy that, but you do kinda look like a turtle that got turned over." He said. "Can I help you now or you want to keep on being bull headed?" Daryl responded, getting up.

Michonne sighed. "Fine." She said.

Daryl got up and helped her gently sit up. She wasn't wearing a shirt, and getting her out of her underwear was easy enough. When Daryl took her panties off, he grinned. He realized they were the same black lace panties that she'd been wearing the last time she got shot…the ones that had haunted him for a while.

"What are you grinning at?" Michonne asked as he got up and tossed them into the clothes pile.

"Nothin'." He said.

"You know," Michonne said, "I'm going to remember you were such a smart ass when you get hurt." She hated to admit it, but she was actually enjoying herself now that Daryl was gently sponging her off.

"I don't get hurt, 'Chonne. I ain't no delicate flower like you." Daryl said. He leaned her around a bit to catch her facial expression. She knew he was just trying to get a reaction from her, so she simply gave him the slightly annoyed face that she knew he wanted, even though she wasn't really annoyed.

"You seem happy that I'm hurt." She said.

"Nah, I ain't happy you're hurt, but I am happy." Daryl said. "We got that damn Governor." He stopped what he was doing for a moment to kiss her, and she smiled at him. Daryl was happy, and he wore that happiness very openly for the moment.

Daryl was very happy. The Governor was dead. He hated that Michonne was injured, but Hershel had said she be perfectly fine and now she was safe. He felt like they were all a lot safer. Everything seemed fine with the baby and the weather was warming up. Daryl was happy indeed.

Michonne was happy that Governor was dead, but the battle still chewed at her a little. She wondered if she'd actually been help out there at all. When they had run in their various directions, she'd immediately run for the car. It was about halfway through the yard and she'd already decided it would be a good place for her to maybe have a chance of hitting someone, maybe even the Governor. Unfortunately, she hadn't counted on the fact that she couldn't run as fast as she used to and she'd been hit in the first round of fire, forcing herself to crawl the rest of the way to the truck for cover. She'd fired after that, but she was pretty sure she hadn't hit anything since after crawling on it; she couldn't stand to use her left arm. She felt like she had let them down. She hadn't been able to really help anyone.

"Besides, I kinda like takin' care of ya." Daryl said, snapping Michonne out of her thoughts. "It's good practice."

"Practice for what?" Michonne said.

"Practice for washin' the baby." Daryl said. He grabbed a towel to start drying off whatever water hadn't been dried off by the air.

"Washing a baby is a lot different than washing me." Michonne said.

"Yeah…the baby's more cooperative and whines less." Daryl said.

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"What exactly are we watchin' for?" Daryl asked, leaning back against the watchtower wall. He had stolen a tennis ball from Maggie and Glenn's "toy box" and was bouncing it on the floor. He realized it was probably irritating Rick, but he was enjoying bouncing the ball. "The Governor's dead, you know." He added.

"Walkers." Rick said. He was sitting in one of the chairs, just staring out at the yard. Looking worried was common in the prison, but right now no one looked worried, except for Rick.

"Found 'em." Daryl said. "Three of 'em and it looks like it's chow time at the O.K. Corral." He said. The Walkers rambling outside the fence were dining on the Governor and his men. They had considered bringing the bodies inside the fence and burning them, but in the end they had decided just to leave them there because it was too much effort and they didn't even deserve the decency of being burned. "We gave 'em a nice little treat…it's like Thanksgiving for Walkers."

Rick just grunted at him and continued to stare at the yard.

"Rick, man, what are you worryin' about? For once we ain't got nothin' to worry about!" Daryl said. He stopped bouncing the ball.

"We can't stay here forever." Rick said. "The Governor is gone, but there could be more like him. Plus we are going to need supplies and we've cleaned out most of the closest little towns. We'll have to go farther out."

"So we go farther out." Daryl said.

"We don't have the gas to keep doing that for long, Daryl, and we aren't exactly finding tons more of it everywhere we go. We're going to have to move on." Rick said. Daryl thought for a few minutes.

"Look, Rick, we can't move on right now. We got four people injured bad enough they couldn't fight for themselves. Glenn can't even walk right now and Michonne can barely move, less likely fight off Walkers." Daryl said. "And I ain't havin' her givin' birth in the middle of the woods like some kinda animal. She don't deserve to do that." Daryl added.

Rick could hear that Daryl was getting irritated. He was starting to admit to himself that maybe he'd been a little less than fair to Michonne in the past. She had surprised him that night when she declared that she was going to fight with the group, even though she was pregnant. She had surprised him even more when the fight broke out and she had run past him, toward the fence, into range. He couldn't imagine Lori doing that. He couldn't imagine himself letting Lori do that. That was the thing about Michonne. Daryl loved her, but he couldn't control her. That was what worried Rick most about her. She couldn't be controlled… wouldn't be controlled, and he worried about what that kind of attitude could cause in a group like this.

"Calm down, Daryl, I wasn't saying we need to leave tonight. We'll wait until after the baby's born." Rick said. "I'm just concerned that Hershel said we've got at least four months until that baby is born. It'll be hot then, but it won't be too long before it starts to get cold. I'm just trying to figure out how long we wait."

Daryl did calm down a little. "I don't know, Rick, but we don't leave until Hershel says Michonne can travel. I know enough about havin' babies that I don't think she'd be up for walkin' a couple thousand miles the next day."

Rick snickered at him. "Well, we'd take the car, of course."

"Still…" Daryl said.

"Don't worry, Daryl." Rick said. "I'll talk to you about it before I talk to anyone else in the group, and we'll talk to Hershel."

Daryl was satisfied with that, but he had to admit to himself that he didn't really like the idea of leaving the prison. He understood what Rick was saying, and it was true that runs would get farther and farther out and take more and more time and gas, but it seemed kind of sad. Things felt kind of safe right now, a whole lot safe than they had in a while, and the prison had become a home to their "family." Daryl didn't want to really go anywhere. He just wanted to stay there and know that his family, all of it, was safe.