The party was winding down; most of the guests had left, leaving only a few souls lingering about the ballroom, the musicians were playing slower songs, signaling the end of the evening.
As Daryl drank down the rest of his whiskey. At some point during the night, he'd found himself back at the bar, he hadn't had too much to drink though, he'd spent the last hour of the party just watching the people smile and laugh as they said their goodbyes and departed.
His date had demanded a dance or two from him, which wasn't horrible, and after that she'd snuck off to 'powder her nose', not that he cared, really.
While he was waiting for her to return he watched Dale as he crossed the ballroom and whispered something to the governor, in which the tall man seemed to be very intrigued. The conversation only lasted a few moments because then Dale retreated back to his happy murderess.
After that, Daryl's date returned and informed him that she'd be going home with a man she'd just bumped into, so his work for the night was done. He watched her as she left with the man, their hands groping each other's ass as they walked out.
Daryl was happy to be rid of her; he hadn't wanted to leave just yet. He found that he might've been actually enjoying the party. For several reasons.
For one, here, he had a perfect view of a certain mayor that he'd taken a liking to.
And then there was the people. He didn't like them, at all, really. But when he looked around the room and saw the couples, it was strange to him. They were real couples. Something Daryl was not accustomed to seeing.
Mostly at the Golden Blade, he saw bitter, unsatisfied spouses. It was…nice, in a way to see that there were actually happy couples out there.
In a business where everything was physical, it was refreshing for him to see an emotional aspect of relationships. It was a nice reminder there even was an emotional aspect.
When he saw two men dancing together on the dance floor, and no one gave so much as a second glance at them, he couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy.
As he watched them, he once again locked eyes with Rick, who had also been watching Daryl from across the room, and had noticed he was watching the couple. The two stared at each other for a few moments before a few partygoers approached Rick and introduced themselves.
Daryl turned back to the bar and shook his head. He stayed there for a while, just listening to the music and waiting. For what, he wasn't sure.
Eventually though, he stepped away from the bar and waded through the thinning crowd. He made his way up the stairs, and from there, back to the Golden Blade.
As he walked back, he breathed in the cool air and shoved his hands in his pockets as he passed by the streetlights. Lights in the windows of passing houses turned off, and the town seemed silent in the night.
When he reached his destination, he found that to be an incorrect assumption.
As soon as he walked through the heavy wooden door, he could hear the telltale sounds of business as usual. The sounds of the creaking bed told Daryl that it was Shane at work tonight.
Each housemate had their own 'tell'; Shane's was the bed posts creaking. Glenn's as of late was a faint whimpering sound that he began doing after the governor. Dale's was a sort of dry, hoarse moan that sounded quite painful. Tyreese was quiet for the most part when he worked, just the faint slapping of skin against skin could be heard from his room.
Daryl wasn't quite sure what his 'tell' was, he preferred not to think about it, either.
Merle looked up from his desk when Daryl walked in and almost immediately let out a dry chuckle, "How was your date?" he asked, grasping the air in an attempt to mimic the girl's pawing hands.
Daryl ignored Merle, "I have a customer coming," he said as he became suddenly aware of Glenn and Tyreese looking utterly defeated slumped into the sofa in the living room.
Merle hummed cheerfully, "That's what I love about you all, I give you the night off, and you bring 'em in anyway."
Daryl looked at Merle with narrowed eyes, "You didn't tell me he was the fuckin' mayor." He stated with an accusing tone.
Merle shrugged, "I told you he was a good customer to have." Daryl opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted before he could begin.
"FUCKIN SHIT PRICK!" Came from Shane's room.
Merle burst out laughing as Daryl stared up the stairs and thought at least he was able to ditch his date, apparently Shane's date had changed her mind about the overnight deal.
As Daryl stared, he heard Dale's tell, and looked over to Glenn, who had his eyes buried into his hand as Tyreese took a deep, depressing breath.
Daryl walked over, "I take it your plan didn't work out, then."
Glenn shook his head, "We all chipped in a part of our pay to cover a session," he said unhappily, "Dale was to tell the governor that he was getting a free session for 'customer loyalty' or some shit," Glenn sat up and rubbed his face with both hands, "only when he got back, Shane already had that terrets woman in his room."
"It took Merle maybe three seconds to figure out that it was Dale's idea, so to fuck with him, he sent the governor up with him." Tyreese finished.
Daryl shook his head as he loosened his bow tie. This was exactly the reason why he never got wrapped up in Dale's schemes, they never work and they come at a price; no way he was willing to give up part of his pay for this shit.
Daryl made his way upstairs, leaving the two would-be conspirers to wallow in defeat.
As he climbed the stairs, he couldn't help but laugh as he heard Dale's tell again, and again, and again in a pathetic fashion.
When he made it to his room, Daryl slid his tux jacket off and hung it back up in his closet. He kicked off his shoes and put them in the back of his closet. He didn't know exactly when Rick would be by, but for now he found peace in the fact that he wasn't here now. It gave him time to think.
What the hell was Rick even doing? If the town knew what he was doing, they'd definitely kick his ass out of office. Not that that was necessarily Daryl's problem to worry about, but still.
Daryl sat down on the edge of his bed and stretched his shoulders and neck. He laid back against his bed as he mumbled, "I fucked the mayor," as he said it, he couldn't help but laugh to himself.
It was probably the several drinks he'd had tonight, because this really wasn't funny. Daryl decided that it was indeed funny, and continued laughing as he rubbed his face and the found it hard to breathe all of a sudden.
His laughing stopped and he took a couple deep breaths as he made a revelation, "I'm so fucked."
At that moment, he heard the front door swing open, and heard Merle say, "He's waitin' for ya." Footsteps sounded up the stairs a few moments later and Daryl sat up, feeling suddenly flustered.
His door swung open and Rick stepped inside, closing the door smoothly behind him as he made eye contact with Daryl.
His bow tie was undone around his neck, his shirt was untucked and his jacket was clutched in his hand. As he stepped further in, he tossed his jacket beside Daryl on the bed as he came to stand before him.
Rick's hands came to either side of Daryl's face as he leaned down for a deep kiss.
Daryl relaxed muscles he didn't know were tensed as Rick leaned back. "I hate these things," he said as he tore the bow tie from his neck and tossed it on top of his tux jacket. "How was your night?" he asked as he looked down at Daryl.
Daryl considered the question for a long moment. He thought of the drowning drunk, the baboon enthusiast, the frisky feeler, the shady old lady, the 'governor' and his little plot twist.
"Sure as hell wasn't borin'," is all that Daryl said. Staring up at Rick, he realized two things as he pulled him back in for another kiss.
One: He didn't care that Rick was mayor, married, and basically unobtainable. He was getting attached to him.
Two: He was indeed definitely fucked.
The next morning at breakfast, the housemates found themselves eating cereal.
Turns out, it was Dale's turn to make breakfast.
Turns out, Dale was huddled in his closet with a blanket wrapped over him as he rocked back and forth staring off with beady eyes whispering the same name, "Andrea".
Turns out, the governor was feeling a bit vulnerable last night, and decided to pretend Dale was his wife, who had been rather cold to him lately, perhaps because he was never home at night and she was finally catching wise.
None of this mattered to poor Dale, all that mattered to him was the pain and the horror that was the governor's signature, it seemed.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Next chapter shouldn't be too far off!