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**Daryl**

The party was swinging into a high gear that had that young, rebellious man inside him rattling the bars of his cage and screaming 'fuck yeah' but also had the responsible daddy-to-be in him shrinking back with a mild scowl thinking 'well, this isn't safe for Carol to be in these crowds'.

Fuck. He could practically feel those khaki chinos and button ups (with sleeves) creeping up on him.

The old man won out in the end and he guided Carol from the party with her eager approval and lead her out into the night air.

They passed by Dean who was hurling boots into the bushes, Carl at his side quietly and Carol paused to scold the boy, but she hesitated when they spied Mary Agnes on the boy's ass, hurrying from the church like her sole purpose in life was to smack some sense into the boy.

Exchanging looks, they continued on, heading for the dorms and their temporary bed, but stopped when someone called out to them.

Glancing around the darkness, they found Grace struggling under the peach tree with a large heap of Cajun Marine.

"Need help?" Daryl asked as they approached.

Grace huffed and dropped Fay's arm. "If you don't mind, I think he's – pardon my language - foxed?"

Carol laughed as Daryl eyed the Cajun, looking for the best way to haul his ass inside. He honestly had no clue how he'd get the sequoia of a man into the dorms, but figured if he could haul a buck back to the convent to field dress it, he could get the Cajun inside.

Though he'd leave the skinning of the man to Grace.

Getting Fay draped over his shoulders, he half dragged, half carried the man towards the dorms, the women falling in behind, each taking a leg.

"I'm sorry," Grace huffed quietly so as not to wake those sleeping as they got inside the dorms. "I would have let the fool boy sleep out there, but the night is cold and the grass is dewy."

They nearly dropped him angling Fay into their shared room, but Daryl managed to wedge him against the doorframe enough to prevent total tragedy, getting the Cajun to the bed and flopping him half onto it, his long, spider legs still hanging over the edge.

Standing there, Daryl scratched at his scruffy chin and shrugged. "Well, at least he didn't do anything stupid before dropping."

Grace smiled at them. "Thank you. Think he'll be okay there for the night? I want to go back and ensure those heathens in my church aren't tearing it apart."

Kicking Fay's boot, Daryl said, "he'll be out for the night now."

"I just hope he wakes in time for the ceremony in the morning," Grace added one last time, before turning and flouncing out.

Carol smiled at him and pulled Fay's legs up onto the bed, tucking the man in lovingly as Daryl settled into their nest on the floor, pulling his boots off and removing his belt.

His girl joined him after a moment, smiling seductively and wriggling to get comfortable before him, kneeling so that her fat stomach jutted out proudly.

"Long night," she purred.

"Even longer one tomorrow," he murmured.

Slipping her arms around his neck, Carol kissed him slowly, wriggling in even closer.

He glanced nervously over at Fay passed out on the bed.

Carol followed his gaze and smirked. "He's out cold."

"Be a hell of a thing if he woke though," he said.

She beamed wickedly at him. "Would it? Let's find out."

He swallowed thickly. "What?"

Throwing her head back, revealing the long, slender line of her throat, his girl laughed and moved to straddle him properly.

Wincing at the bruises she was bumping from their constant interludes, he glanced over at his pack where that thing Fay gave him was buried among his underpants and meagre belongings.

"What if Grace comes back?" He asked.

"What if the ceiling crashes in on our heads and a bunch of birds flying overhead find out how humans mate?" She teased, playing with his scruff.

He glanced up at the ceiling overhead out of instinct to see what she was referring to.

Carol muffled her laughter in his shoulder.

He reached for his pack while she was distracted and pulled it in close, contemplating actually offering her the thing. A thought struck him that it felt weird giving the thing to her, since it originally came from Fay.

Did that make it a sex toy gift from the Cajun to his girl?

He had to ponder that one a bit, but there was no time as Carol was kissing and nipping at his neck in that cat-like mildly frightening, mostly arousing way she did and he dropped his head back far enough to let her continue, his hand releasing his pack to move to her ass, helping himself to a heaping handful with a small squeeze.

Again he glanced over at Fay on the bed nearby and it pulled him back to his senses. Gently he pushed Carol away and cleared his throat. "No, not with him here."

She looked over at the Lieutenant, then back with a devilish glint in her eye. "Okay."

Reaching under her shirt and behind, she wriggled and squirmed, before pulling her bra out through the sleeve of her shirt and tossing it proudly over Fay's face. One of her maternity sized cups covered his eyes enough and Carol pulled her fists in close to her in triumph.

"Yes, three points!" She teased.

The Cajun slept on.

Daryl scowled disapprovingly at the Marine wearing his girl's bra on his face, but decided to let it slip as Carol was reaching for the waistband of his pants, sparing no time for him to verbally disapprove.

As her small, strong hand slipped inside the front of his pants, all thoughts vanished from his mind and he forgot the Cajun was even in the room.

Carol beamed and leaned in close, her hand doing wicked things to him out of sight.

"Jesus," he murmured as slammed her mouth against his like a hungry she-wolf. "Wai-" he sputtered, struggling to free himself.

She pulled back and blinked her big, beautiful blue eyes at him like an angel. "What?"

Nervously, he reached for his pack and opened it. "I…" he felt himself blush a little. "I have something for you…to use…sometimes."

She tilted her head as he pulled out the thing wrapped in a rag, wrapped in a bag and offered it to her.

"Oh honey," she teased sweetly, "you gift wrapped it and everything."

He felt his entire body turn into molten lava as she unwrapped the thing.

Carol eyed it in her hand for a minute.

The entire convent grounds were too fucking quiet, even with the faint sounds of a party coming from the nearby church as his girl eyed the purple thing.

Then she looked at him like a she-devil and whispered. "What is this?"

"What?"

"Is it sanitary?" She demanded.

"I hope to God it is," he replied.

She tsked. "And what am I supposed to do with this?"

The thing made a frightening buzzing sound when she turned the base and Daryl panicked, eyes moving to the doorway, then to the sleeping Cajun.

Carol grinned evilly and twisted the base again, amplifying the buzzing.

"Alright, Jesus, I had no idea it fucking did that, keep it down!" He whispered roughly.

"I'm sorry, I can't go back, I don't how it works," she joked, turning the base again.

The buzzing zinged three times rapidly, then slowed, then three times again in an almost musical pattern.

"Did I feed da goldfish?" Fay mumbled suddenly.

Carol turned the thing off and both of them eyed the man on the bed like deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi.

"Let da pilot do it," Fay griped and rolled over, his back to them.

"Okay," Carol whispered, tucking the thing in beside her. "Now is he asleep or passed out? Because I didn't think people who were passed out talked…"

"Fucked if I know," Daryl whispered back. "Usually when I was with someone passed out, I was blackout drunk myself."

"Go check," she urged.

Carefully, he crawled over to the bedside and tented up and over the Cajun to peer at his face.

The man's face was serene, peaceful, still.

Suddenly his eyes popped open and Daryl found himself being hauled over the Cajun and onto the bed, where he tumbled against the wall.

Fay sat up laughing merrily.

"Lieutenant!" Carol gasped.

"Aw, he's awrite," the Cajun swayed a little sitting there on the bed beside Daryl. He plucked Carol's bra off the bed between them and eyed it, before holding it up questioningly to Carol.

She shrugged shyly.

The Lieutenant flipped it at her with a shake of his head.

"You've been awake this whole time?" Daryl snarled.

Fay laughed. "Ya tink a bottle of bourbon is gon' put dis Cajun down? I was born on da bayou, cabri. Drinkin' bourbon like it was mere's milk since I was old enuff ta sneak out. I jus' wanted ta see if yo' scrawny ass could lif' me. Ya zeerahb lovebirds. Wit me in da room!" He struggled to his feet, helped by Daryl who kicked him in the ass, sending him up and then down onto the nest with Carol, where the Cajun floundered for a minute unsteadily.

Carol helped him get right with a small grin.

"Band break at da fais do-do," Fay muttered to her, getting to his feet. "Jus' gotta learn how we do tings on da bayou, ain't done until someone defan."

"Lieutenant," Carol exclaimed, getting up and steadying him, "you're not seriously going back to the party?"

"I need my girl and my bottle," Fay slurred, "in dat order. Dat chouchoot is clean too, ange, I pulled it from a fresh plastic wrap myself, so get busy, yeah?"

"Hey," Daryl began.

Wagging his finger, Fay opened the door and stepped out, before turning back once more and saying, "if Gracie girl asks, I…I'm un transport."

"You fucking—" Daryl began, cutting off as the door shut, cutting the Cajun off from hearing the flavourful name Daryl was brewing up for him.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Carol asked, "the Lieutenant gave this to you to give to me?"

Daryl scowled. "You've been riding me a little hard lately, girl. I was scared it was going to fall off."

She blinked at him. "I'm about to ride you even harder," she stated coolly.

He swallowed a lump and blinked at her fearfully as she set the thing aside and crawled up onto the bed with him.

"Your pants are still undone," she pointed out impishly, tugging at the open fly roughly.

He flushed.

Carol laughed. "Let's just hope he's too drunk to really remember what happened."

"I told you it was a bad idea," he grumbled.

"Shh," she hushed him, hand slipping inside his pants. "I'm busy and you need to just keep quiet and deal with it."

"Jesus, woman," he rasped. "You're going to be the death of me."

She smirked. "La petit mort."

"What?" He gasped.

"Nothing."

Eyeing the forgotten toy in their nest through slitted eyes, Daryl decided to just go limp and let Carol do her thing. He couldn't stop her even if he wanted to and at the moment, with her hand working at him, he didn't want to.

Hell, he was sorry he ever complained. If it fell off, it'd be the best way to lose a dick any man ever.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'll be a little more gentle on you tonight, wouldn't want to destroy my favourite sex toy."

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auntheddy - I think they're about to frack...

You'reMyKindOfTrouble - Glen deserves some happiness and recognition, next on my list of characters I hate myself for neglecting that deserve happiness is Tyreese...

Claire Randall Fraser - There's not a day goes by that I don't hate myself for killing off Maggie...I truly like her...but as with all my character deaths, it was literally just that her name was drawn from my envelope of names.

Guest - I agree. Glenn is a fantastic character and needs all the love and respect he deserves!

Brazen Hussy - Not yet...but soon perhaps some Milton/Michonne.

Ciao Bella - Haha! Didn't think of that Milton/Michonne/Andrea triangle...LOL!

Yazzy x - Ah, Merle, the only man who can see tit and not lose his shit.

Surplus Imagination - I hope Glenn's fling is productive too.

itsi3 - Merle is really coming around as a helpful type man, think he's growing like Daryl grew on the farm.

Guest #2 - Reviews like yours keep this series alive, so thank you for it! I honestly appreciate it! I hope you have a lovely day, my friend!