"You know how rough his hands are from working?"

"Of course."

"I'll just say that the calluses are like nothing you've ever felt on your body. It's so different from anybody I've ever been with."

"How many people have you been with?"

"Well, two guys felt me up before Daryl and I was with one guy after him. But still, I don't think there will ever be anything like what Daryl used to do."

"What do you mean? You have to share."

"He just took his time. It was slow and perfect. Not meaning that it wasn't rough and fast sometimes. I just mean that he never rushed. You've seen how he does stuff. Spending all that time in the woods really gave him a lot of patience."

"Ooh! That sounds lovely!"

"Lovely isn't the word to describe him," Georgia giggled.

"What word would?"

"Well, back in the day, and don't be making this about now because Daryl and I aren't like that anymore, back in the day, the word to describe Daryl would have been 'incredible.' Half the time we lived together, I could keep my hands off of him. The only reason I ever did was because his fucking brother was there half the time."

"He always seemed like he would be a difficult person to get along with."

"He enjoyed visiting the trailer we lived in whenever he needed money, or just got out of jail, or wanted a place to hide his drugs, or needed alcohol. He didn't like me very much."

"He didn't seem to like anybody too much. He was a very bitter man."

"You would think he would have gotten used to me. I've known them since I was eleven years old. But he always told me that he didn't see why Daryl hadn't gotten tired of me yet."

"That's awful. But you've known Daryl since he was a kid? What was he like?"

She shrugged. "Like he is now. He's always been quiet, but he used to have this really big sweet side. He still does, he just doesn't show it as much. When we were together, he used to do all this little stuff, but we'd never talk about it. Like, I'd come home from work and I would know he'd been hunting all day, and there would be wildflowers on the table. Not a lot, just two or three. And if I mentioned it, he'd just grunt and turn red. Or he'd make me take his truck if he thought mine was running weird. Even though mine had a hot pink pinstripe down the middle. He would just get freaked out about me breaking down somewhere without him being able to reach me. Just little stuff like that."

"He's a good man."

"He really is."

"Why didn't it work out between you two? What happened? I know that Daryl doesn't know about DJ, or maybe now he does. I'm not sure on that. Everybody in camp knows he belongs to Daryl. So why weren't you with him when you were pregnant?"

"You ask a lot of questions, Carol."

"You evade a lot of questions, Georgia Rayne." Carol imitated Daryl's thick Georgia accent.

"No, none of the 'Georgia Rayne' business! That's Daryl's thing when he's frustrated with me."

"Oh I'm sure he's very frustrated!" Carol giggled.

"Who's very frustrated?" Shane's voice caused both women to turn towards him quickly. He was standing behind them, glowering down at the gossiping women with a smile on his face that was meant to be convincingly friendly. Georgia had no trust in the man. Daryl, when informing her of who to avoid and who to make friends with in camp, had specifically mentioned that Shane was to be avoided. He told her about the incident with Otis, where Shane had returned with Otis's gun.

"DJ," Georgia lied quickly. "It's difficult being an eight year old boy at the end of the world."

Shane glared down at her. He knew they were gossiping. It was clear to everybody in camp that the two of them had spent over an hour whispering back and forth, Georgia turning red and refusing to give Carol information and then Carol giggling and pursuing it. He had no doubt they were talking about the redneck that the entire group put up with but were unnerved by when he got to staring with those freaky blue eyes.

"Yes, well be sure to keep his frustrations from punching anybody in the face."

"I won't promise that my son won't protect himself and his."

"Just like Daryl. Strange coincidence, isn't it?"

Georgia's face turned into a deep scowl and she snarled, "It is. I'm glad though. I'd prefer my son have Daryl as a role model than any other."

Shane frowned and ordered, "Better finish your laundry. The water won't be hot long."

With that he turned and stomped off. Carol leaned over and whispered, "He's just frustrated too."

Georgia snorted and replied, "Nah. He's banging the blonde in the backseat of his hot new ride while he makes bedroom eyes at the married chick."

"It's a shame that those two are the biggest jerks in the group and they're the ones getting action."

Georgia and Carol both laughed.

"Hey, honey. Ya here alone?"

There was too much smoke in the woman's voice and not enough mystery. It wasn't Georgia's voice. She was in the bathroom, probably still waiting for the line to get her inside. It was a busy night for the town's bar. They'd just gotten a new karaoke machine and it seemed to be a popular item for every two bit, drunk, screeching hag in the place. He hated that Georgia dragged him out there but he knew he'd never say no to her. No matter how pussy whipped Merle said he was, he couldn't say no to Georgia. She didn't really ask much of him. He owed her a night out every now and then.

"Ain't here 'lone," he replied gruffly. He took a long drink of his beer and hoped the woman would go away. He didn't have to look at her to know her type. Leggy, busty, blonde with too much makeup. Not petite and dark and natural like his woman.

"Well, honey, I don't see a ring on your finger or a woman at your side."

"She's here."

"Well, honey, if I were your girlfriend, I'd never leave your side for fear some better woman would come out and take you for her own."

"Ain't no…"

"You best take your talons off of my boyfriend or I'll rip your hand off and shove it up your ass. I bet it would fit real nice up there, honey." Daryl had never been so glad to hear Georgia's voice coming from his side.

"Was just having a conversation with your boyfriend. It's kind of funny, he didn't use the word girlfriend when he was talking 'bout you."

"Well, honey, I'm the one living in his house, fucking him every single fucking night of the week, so I'd damn well say he's with me, wouldn't you? Now get your damn hand off of my boyfriend."

"Look, bitch…"

Daryl winced as Georgia reached out and smacked the woman. He jumped up and grabbed Georgia quick before she could do some real damage. He knew she was a fighter. The other woman didn't have a chance. He muttered, "Calm the fuck down, woman. Can' be hittin' women in bars. Don' matter whatcha think they're doin' wrong. Gonna get kicked out."

"You better watch yourself, bitch," Georgia snarled, pointing at the woman. Daryl succeeding in yanking her back and sitting her on a bar stool. He stood in front of her with both hands on the bar behind her, effectively boxing her in. He stared down at her, meeting those muddy eyes solemnly until she calmed down.

"Georgia Rayne, ya can' be doin' shit like that."

"Daryl Emmett, I can so. You should have just told her you have a girlfriend."

"I did," he said quickly. "Told her I was here with my woman."

"Damn it, Daryl. We've been together for two years now. I live in your damn house. Just say it. Just say girlfriend."

"Why we gotta say shit like that? Can' we jus be fine with what we got." He fucking hated the word girlfriend. It was a stupid world, made of stupid promises and responsibilities. He liked what he and Georgia had. They took care of each other. He didn't have to hold her hand in public or take her to the movies. He was just with her. He didn't understand why anything had to change between them.

"Fine," Georgia sighed. "Let's just go home."

"Thought ya wanted to do the singin' shit?"

"No. Let's just go home, Daryl."