LOVED the episode, tonight. How about you all? All the Caryl scenes were perfect, especially the water jug one! Gah, I do love me an awkward Daryl! ;) And I absolutely loved Carol/Melissa's face during it, too. It looks like I'll be watching that on repeat, too! The episode also made me sad a bit, but I don't want to say why in case some of you haven't seen it, yet. And I hope I'm not the only one, but for some reason, I really like Father Gabriel!

Well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)

Chapter Nine

Daryl normally didn't mind his job at the garage, but today, he cursed every hour he had to spend there. Even with working through his lunch shift, to get off early, he still had a few hours until the clock would show that it was six. It also was not helping that they hardly had any clients during the course of the day, and that meant there was nothing to keep Daryl's hands and mind busy.

"What the hell is up with you, man?" Jim, a tall, thin man with a dark, scraggly beard and mustache walked up to him with a smirk. "Got yourself a hot date or somethin'?"

Jim was one of the few that Daryl worked who actually liked. Normally, he would mind his own business, get his work done and didn't complain about stupid shit. Daryl respected that, and it was one of the reasons why he didn't snap at the man for prying into his business, now. "Guess you could say it's somethin'," Daryl muttered and wiped his oily hands off on the red rag he always carried around. Glancing at the clock, he saw that he only had about an hour and a half until he would be allowed to leave.

"At the best days, you're pretty fidgety, but today, you can't stand still." Jim leaned against the wall by Daryl's toolbox. "Just thought I'd come over here and make sure things are all right and to make sure you ain't takin' any drugs while on the job, cause the boss wouldn't hesitate to fire your ass."

Daryl grunted. Their boss was a fair man, and even though Daryl knew that he was one of the better workers in the place, he knew that if he was caught doing anything illegal while at work, he would find himself out of a job. Quickly.

"So, this somehin'. Does it involve a lady?"

"Why the hell are you gettin' so nosy all of a sudden?" Daryl glared.

Jim shrugged. "If you haven't noticed, its pretty damn slow around here and I need somethin' to do."

"If I tell you it involves a lady, will you shut up?"

"I suppose."

"Well, it does involve one and that's all I'm goin' to fuckin' say." Daryl opened one of the drawers to his toolbox and pulled out a handful of tools. He set to work on cleaning them, hoping that it would help pass the time.

"Finally!" Daryl jerked forward when Jim slapped him on the back. He knew that the other man had meant it has a way to show his camaraderie, but he still moved from him and kept his back facing away. No one was allowed to touch him there. No one.

"Sorry," Jim winced when he saw Daryl's not so subtle move away from him. "It's just that none of us guys have heard about you being with a woman." He leaned close and whispered. "Some were even thinkin' you were gay."

"What?" Daryl growled and gripped the wrench in his hand until the skin of his knuckles was pulled tight against the bone.

"Uh, said some of them thought that." Jim raised his hands and took a step back. "Not me. I told them that it was none of their business."

Daryl loosened his grip on the wrench. "Good. It ain't none of y'alls business what I do in my free time."

"Understood." Jim nodded. "Have fun with your lady friend, tonight." And he quickly scurried off to the other side of the garage. Daryl was glad to be left alone, and only felt a little remorse at scaring the other man.

Carol walked into her kitchen with her arms full of grocery bags. She hadn't known what to make for dinner that night and had decided to pick up several things so that she would have some options. Glancing at the clock, she saw that she had some time before Daryl would show up and figured that it was plenty of time for her to get showered and to start on the meal.

She had to admit that she wasn't the greatest of cooks, but for some reason, she knew that Daryl would like whatever she made. Even if it was burned or undercooked. What a drastic change he was from her ex-husband. If the meal was anything but perfect, Ed would make Carol pay for it. Most nights she would go to bed with fresh bruises.

"Not tonight, though," she whispered to herself as she put away the groceries. Every once in awhile the ring on her left hand would catch her attention and she would have to stop to just look at it. This whole thing was becoming more and more real to her, and she was way beyond the point of turning back, now. Daryl was going to be her husband and she was going to be his wife. They still had many things to discuss, like where they would live and when they would actually have the wedding, but it was all but set in stone.

Carol was going to be a Dixon.

Six o'clock finally rolled around and Daryl was peeling out of the garage's parking lot at 6:01. He still had to go home, shower and change, but at least he was getting closer and closer to seeing Carol, again. If he hadn't known he was in love before, he definitely knew, now. Not an hour went by where Daryl didn't think if Carol in some way.

She was beautiful. He could stare at her all day, but that was not the only thing that drew her to him. She was kind, and after finding out who he was and where he came from, her opinion of him hadn't changed. She didn't have to nurse him back to health; she could have ignored his request and called an ambulance once they had reached her home. She didn't have to say yes to his proposal. She could have kicked his ass out of her home and tell him good riddance. Some part of her wanted to marry him, for that he was glad, but there was another part that she was trying to keep hidden. A part he hoped to find out about, because he knew it was holding her back from really caring about him the way he cared about her.

Daryl needed to know what she was so afraid, because she was afraid of something and it wasn't the dark.

With her hair still damp from the shower, Carol stood over the stove and stirred the sauce in the pan. She was making spaghetti, figuring that most everyone liked spaghetti and so would Daryl. Even though Carol had to agree that Daryl wasn't like most everyone.

Just as she turned the sauce on to simmer, the doorbell rang and she knew exactly who it was. Instantly, she got nervous and ran her hands down the front of her body, making sure that there was no sauce and everything looked all right.

When she opened the door, Daryl stood there dressed the nicest she had seen him, with jeans that didn't have holes and a nice, blue plaid shirt that actually had sleeves. In his hands, he held a bouquet of white flowers and when she opened the door, he all but thrust them in her face. It was clear he was as nervous as she and this wasn't even supposed to be their date night.

"Um, their Cherokee Roses," Daryl offered when she brought the flowers to her nose to inhale. They smelled wonderful.

"They're beautiful," she smiled. "Come in. I'm going to find a vase to put them in." Before she could turn from her guest, he gently grabbed her wrist and looked even more nervous. If that was possible.

"Can I kiss you, first?"

Carol found it enduring that he asked to kiss her. The only exception had been last night after his admission of having never loved anyone except her.

"O-Of course. But you don't have to ask, anymore. Okay?"

Daryl nodded; eyes focused on her mouth before he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. His mouth tasted like toothpaste and something else that was only unique to him and Carol was surprised that she could easily see herself becoming addicted to that taste. His tongue gently outlined the seam of her lips, just as his hands crept into her auburn curls. One of her hands had moved up to cup his cheek, while the other held the roses close to her chest.

She allowed the kiss to get deeper and when they eventually pulled apart, they were gasping for air. Carol didn't want to dwell on what that kiss meant, so she used the excuse that dinner was still on the stove and possibly burning to escape.

Daryl was nearly speechless when he opened the door to see Carol looking stunning in a light blue skirt, that matched her eyes, and white blouse that showed off her collarbones. He had all but thrown the flowers he had picked in her face and he had to mentally tell himself to calm down before he did something really stupid.

After their kiss, Daryl watched Carol retreat to her kitchen. He had wanted to convey in that one kiss how much he felt for her and wondered if she had known and that was why she had escaped. There was that side of Carol that Daryl knew was holding her back from caring for him.

After sliding off his boots, Daryl walked into the kitchen where Carol was standing over the sink pouring some noodles into a strainer. The roses he had given her now sat in a vase and placed in the middle of a table that was located in front of a large bay window.

When she saw him walk in, she smiled. "It's about ready. I hope you like spaghetti."

"I do." He noticed that the table was bare of any plates and silverware. "Uh, do you want me to set the table?" He needed something to keep his mind busy so that he wouldn't stand there and watch her like a creep.

Carol jerked her head to the table and cursed. "I thought I had it set, already. No, you don't have to. Just let me get this in a serving dish and I'll get the table."

"Naw." Daryl stepped closer. "Just tell me where everythin' is and I can do it."

Carol sighed and pointed to the cabinets that each item was in. "Plates and cups are up there, and silverware is here. I am really sorry about this. I was kind of in a hurry and that must have slipped my mind."

"Hey," Daryl said softly and placed a hand on Carol's wrist. "It's all right. Really. Besides, I figured I would probably have to work for my meal, anyway." He smirked and then, moved to collect the things for the table.

A few minutes later, Daryl carried the pan of spaghetti sauce to the table while Carol brought the noodles. She noticed that their cups were still empty and walked over to the fridge. "I have water and lemonade." She winced. "Sorry, there aren't more choices."

Daryl couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I've heard you say 'sorry' more than any other word, today, Carol. And I'll have lemonade."

"So-" She stopped herself. "Okay. Lemonade it is."

Once their drinks were poured, they settled down to eat their meal. Daryl found that he wished they were sitting by one another, like they had the night before, instead of being opposite ends of the table, but he wasn't sure how Carol would react, so he stayed put.

"This was really good," he said when he finished the meal. "I tried to make spaghetti once and I burned the fuck out of it." Carol nearly choked on the bite in her mouth when she laughed.

"How did you manage to do that?"

"Don't know." He shrugged. "I just remember leaving the kitchen for a second and comin' back to see that I had almost set my house on fire."

Carol giggled into her hand. "If I didn't already know that you could cook, Daryl, I would be very reluctant to set you in front of a stove, again."

"Well, I learned my lesson and now, I don't ever leave the kitchen when I'm cookin'."

"Good." Carol noticed his empty glass, then, and stood up. "Do you want more to drink?"

"Sure."

Carol walked over to the fridge to get the lemonade out to pour into his glass. "Okay, tell me when to stop." But when she moved to pour the liquid, she misjudged the distance, knocked his glass over and spilled lemonade all over the table and his lap.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" Carol set the jug down and quickly grabbed up some napkins to sop up the mess she had made.

"It's all right. Really. Here, I'll help." Daryl reached over to grab some napkins and the moment his hand went up; Carol flinched so hard she nearly fell on her butt on the floor. Daryl froze and Carol looked up at him with wide eyes.

"You all right?" His voice was soft with concern and he held out a hand for her to take.

"Oh, um, yeah. I just, uh, slipped." Carol said quickly and took his offered hand. "I think some of the lemonade got on the floor." She laughed, nervously and moved to clean up the mess, once again. However, this time, Daryl stayed rooted in his chair, mind far away.

There had been no lemonade on the floor. It had all spilled on the table and his lap.

When he had lifted his hand to help, Carol had flinched almost like she had thought that Daryl would...hit her. He wanted to ask about it, but by the way she had quickly shooed his concern away, he could tell that it was a subject she did not want to talk about. Especially with him. But Daryl wanted to find out what it was. He needed to find out.

Someone had physically hurt Carol in the past to the point that she flinched whenever a hand was raised and Daryl was going to find out who.

Things should be speeding up a little in the next chapter! :)

Oh, and to that guest who left the long review on my last chapter, I really appreciate everything you told me and I hope I did at least slightly better in this chapter! Also, if you have an account on here, I would really like to talk with you! :)

Thanks for reading!