Here it is - finally a bit of action. I'd like to mention by the way, that not all of the dialogues are the exact copy of the ones from the show. I'm not changing a lot of it, but I'm rewriting at times.

Tametiger: yes, that was Merle. I'd like to show a bit different picture of this character than what's the usual one in fanfiction, as he never struck me as complete villain in the show - to me, he is more like a completely pragmatic douchebag ;) I'm really glad you liked the previous chapter and it was a pleasure to read you comments :)

XXX

"Well, I guess that leaves me.", Daryl said, looking at the map laying on the hood of a car.

"I can come, too."

Against my better judgment and my sense of survival both trying to keep me from speaking, I just found myself standing behind the men and Andrea in a fresh pair of jeans and a spotless v-neck. They all glared at me, and each look expressed a great deal of skepticism, to say the least. Well, back then I was really happy no one started to laugh.

"Victoria, I think-", Rick started, but was cut short by Shane, who limped towards me with a furious expression. It took all I had in me to stop from moving backward, but I managed to hold my head high.

"Do you think it's some sort of game?", he asked, standing in front of me. If he wanted to intimidate me with his huge silhouette, he would succeed tremendously, if only the question didn't leave his mouth.

"Is that what you think I was doing?" I asked quietly, staring daggers at him, "Playing survival games?"

"Weren't you?", he asked, a small smirk playing on his lips. That bastard was getting under my skin, and he was well aware of that.

Two can play that game.

"Maybe I was," I allowed my voice to fall even quieter, and he leaned slightly to hear me better, "But at least I was the one making calls, not some shitty deputy."

The sharp intake of breath told me I hit the right spot. Smirking slightly, I moved around him and addressed Rick, who was looking at us carefully. "Look, the forests around here seem peaceful enough. I know how to take care of a walker or two. I do have a knife of my own," I patted the sheath for a knife on the belt of my trousers, "Besides, you need every pair of eyes you can spare."

"Am better on ma own." Daryl objected quietly.

"And if something happens?", I asked him pointedly, "If something happens, what will you do? Who will help you?"

"Never had no one helpin' me, and can't see a reason to change it now.", he muttered, but I've seen the thoughtful expression on Rick's face and I knew I'd won that one.

"Actually, Daryl, she might have a point," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "It'd be safer to have someone else with you just in case. If you find Sophia, you might need an extra hand."

Daryl snorted but didn't object any further. Instead, he just started walking towards the forest, his crossbow on his back. Then, he turned and glared at me. "You comin' or not?"

XXX

Daryl was walking in front of me, staring at the surroundings, fully focused. I also didn't try to engage him in any sort of conversation for two reasons: firstly, I didn't want to distract him. Secondly, I honestly felt in awe observing him. While at the farm he sometimes felt out of place, here — in the forest — he was in his element. His movements were so quiet I almost felt like a fricking elephant and his gaze was so focused and full of some emotions it gave me goosebumps. The pace at which he responded to the slightest murmurs and the way his arm muscles flexed as he raised his crossbow made me think of a wild animal ready to attack at any moment. At times, he was stopping so abruptly, I decided to focus my full attention on his back in order not to anger him by making too much noise.

When he stopped again, this time he turned towards me and murmured, "Can't see any signs of Sophia, but there," he pointed to a nearby tree, where a small squirrel was looking for something in the litter, "Is our dinner."

I nodded my understanding and waited for Daryl's next movement. He eyed me for a second almost as if he was expecting me to protest, but I did nothing. He adjusted his stance and I could see an arrow flying out. Almost as if I was hypnotized, I followed it with my gaze only to see it hit the target perfectly. Yet again, even though I wasn't exactly fond of the death of the poor animal, I had to admit that Daryl's accuracy and the grace with which he shot the squirrel had a certain appeal to it.

Before I knew it, I found myself sitting opposite to Daryl on a small, fallen log, with a tiny fire between us. He was skinning the squirrel and now and then, shooting me a somewhat challenging look. After a couple of minutes, I finally snorted, "Do you expect me to tell you I'm a vegan or what?"

"Well," he smirked, opening the animal's stomach and yet again, staring mostly at me, not his own actions, "You certainly strike me as the better one here, princess."

I fought the urge to laugh and instead, just raised my eyebrow at him, "Better one?"

He remained silent for a moment and then asked, this time his eyes trained on the task at hand, "Why are you even here?"

"I thought Shane told you all? Maggie and Glenn-"

"No, not that," he interrupted me, "Here.", his hand holding his knife moved in a circular motion.

Oh.

"Because I want to help you and make sure you come back in one piece.", I said, a bit taken aback by the question.

"Am better on my own.", he muttered, impaling the cleaned squirrel on a small stick and I decided to ignore the unpleasant sound it gave, "Always was."

"No one is better on their own nowadays, Daryl.", I smiled sadly and felt his eyes locked carefully on me. "Everyone needs backup. Without it, you can't eat properly, sleep properly, think properly with half of your attention constantly looking for the threat."

"Threat ain't new to me.", he insisted, and I felt a bit of irritation bubbling inside me, but I tried to fight it. "An' now I have to keep an eye for ya too."

"By all means, don't bother yourself.", I hissed. To think I admired his work just minutes ago! Now I only wanted to stick his smart mouth in the fire in front of us. Or his sorry ass, whatever.

He snorted, apparently amused by my reaction, as if I had confirmed his point, "We'll see what you say when the first walker comes near ya, princess."

Oh no, I won't fall for that.

I looked at his unreadable expression and steel blue eyes locked on me. I was suddenly becoming aware his goal might actually be to get me angry and prove his point. Instead, I smiled slightly. "Okay, we will."

He stared at me, probably a bit taken aback by my reaction. Regaining his composure pretty quickly, he barked, "It's not good to jus' leave your kid like that."

Ahhh, so you named the elephant in the room after all.

"I take it you don't talk a lot, guys," I muttered, putting a small stick into the fire, "She's not mine."

I saw him opening his mouth to say something, but I continued before he could actually formulate a sentence, "And yes, I am aware even though I'm not the mother, she's my responsibility. But, you know, Shane mentioned it on more than one occasion, that every person in the group should be useful. Here I am, trying to be useful, while the baby is playing safely with Beth."

When I finished my little tirade, Daryl looked at me, his expression suddenly hurt, not angry. "Ain't right. Kids need their mamas."

I looked at him and forced myself to not ask, which was now in my head. Instead, I nodded my agreement. "They do. But what would you have me do? To tear plates and pots from Carol's or Lori's hands? Besides, I'm pretty sure the kid's better with Beth anyway, the girl seems to know more about babies than I do."

Something between a smirk and grimace appeared on Daryl's face, as he stared at the small fire, where the squirrel was toasting and he didn't comment any further. Silence, which I didn't find bothering, fell on us and I looked at him, taking in his features. While he couldn't be called strikingly handsome, there was something appealing about him that made my insides clench a little. A strong, masculine figure with a strong jawline and dark, slightly defiant hair could certainly grab attention - or at least, I was pretty sure it caught mine. I started wondering how old he could be. He was definitely older than me, no arguing about that - but I couldn't quite decide whether he was in his early thirties or rather hitting forties. Suddenly, he looked up at me and, embarrassed, I moved my gaze to the ground. I felt heat rushing up to my cheeks, and I could only hope he didn't notice it.

"There ya go.", he pushed half of the squirrel into my hands and I accepted it, yet again catching myself staring at Daryl as he ate his share of the meat. Just like yesterday, he was shuffling the food into his mouth in a rush, as if he was afraid someone might take it away or he wanted to eat up. I couldn't help but wonder if he often went to bed with an empty belly as a child because what I took for hunger yesterday seemed to be his style of eating and I knew this kind of behavior didn't come out of nowhere. It was usually a consequence of neglect, whether it was due to poverty or other pathologies in the family. I sighed and bit the meat slowly, deciding to leave half of my portion yet again.

XXX

After I shared my part of the squirrel with Daryl (can't say he protested), we resumed our search. Yet again, I found myself following closely behind the hunter, doing my best not to make too much noise. I knew for him I probably was like a bull in a porcelain shop, but myself, I thought humbly it was quite good for a rookie.

Suddenly, we found a nice looking, small house made of wood. Daryl glanced back at me, moving his index finger to his lips and motioning for me to take out my knife. I nodded and took out the weapon warily. He then ghosted towards me and whispered, "Stay close."

I didn't dare to speak, so I simply nodded again, moving closer to his back as he started towards the house. I could hear my pulse starting to pick up its pace as well as my heart racing and I wondered for a second if he could hear it too.

Daryl went up the three stairs leading to the house, his crossbow at the ready. The door was open and everything inside was scattered - whether the owners were leaving in a hurry or someone searched the house before us - I couldn't quite decide.

Trying not to stomp on anything, I silently followed Daryl as we checked the whole house methodically, to no avail. While he was checking the kitchen in search of some canned food, I noticed a small door to the left and quietly moved to those. They creaked as I opened them and I winced at the sound, stiffening for a minute. No movement caught my attention, so I slowly checked the other room, which appeared to actually be a staircase to a cellar. I inhaled deeply the damp, musty air and held back a shudder of disgust at the unpleasant smell as I tried to see something in the darkness. It was to no avail: the bright sun coming through the kitchen window made it close to impossible to see something in the darkroom without a flashlight.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered to myself, as I took a cautious step towards the stairs. I pointed my knife upfront, the other hand feeling the air for the handrail. When I grabbed it I started moving down, silently begging the stairs not to fall apart under my weight. I took comfort in the fact that I didn't look like I used to before the whole outbreak, and there was an actual chance that the wood would bear my weight even with such air humidity.

Finally, my feet touched the solid ground and I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. I looked around carefully, waiting for my eyes to fully adjust to the darkness. When I was sure moving without tripping was possible, I started checking the basement methodically. I wasn't sure if I felt disappointed or relieved that I didn't find anything interesting there, apart from a few huge, gigantic, murderous spiders. I mean, there was the usual: a little bit of now rotten vegetables, a few preservation jars that have been broken and oh-so-stinky, and some personal stuff of the house owners - clothes and other things. I had half a mind to go through it, but decided against it after all.

"Victoria!" I heard Daryl's voice upstairs and jumped slightly at the almost foreign sound of a human voice.

"Down here," I said, moving back to the stairs. I looked up to see him staring down at me, his crossbow now secured on his back. I had to admit, this point of view made him even more interesting. His masculine form in the sleeveless shirt appealed - or screamed, to be more accurate - to my sense of aesthetics. There was something wild and yet, really calming in his stance, with his tense muscles and legs set slightly apart.

Damn those hormones.

"Anything?" Daryl asked, stopping my idiotic train of thoughts, looking down at me.

"Nope, just some old stuff," I murmured as I walked up the stairs to him. The damn thing creaked again and I couldn't help but wonder if Daryl would manage to catch me. He quietly moved to the side as I reached the top of the stairs to let me brush past him and leave the stinking basement. Which, honestly, was a fucking dumb thing to do for two reasons. One, there would be more space for both of us if he just moved back to the kitchen instead of waiting in the narrow corridor. And two, it wouldn't give me a chance to make literal contact with his solid form, as I tried my best to move past him, squeezing between his body and the wall. I felt my breasts touch his chest, which sent a shiver down my spine and made my nipples harden. I stopped for a second and stared at him, feeling breathless and hot at the same time. I could feel how hard and full of lean muscles his body was and for a short moment, I had half a mind to move my hands to feel them under my fingers. Daryl stiffened visibly at the touch and it snapped me back to reality, so I brushed past him forcefully and flew out of the house, not waiting for him. Outside, I took a few steadying breaths, but honestly, with the temperature and hot Georgia sun now bathing me, I couldn't quite decide if I was feeling any better. I needed a cold shower or at least weather with a temperature slightly below the boiling point.

Did I mention my hormones will be the death of me?

Daryl emerged from the house soon after me and when I slowly turned around to face him, I could see a small hint of blush on his cheeks, which didn't make me feel any better.

"So, where now?" I asked, trying to restore the normal atmosphere. Which I might have succeeded if only the voice that came out of my throat wasn't so goddamn husky. Daryl sat down on the stairs with his legs spread and I stood in my place a couple of feet away from him, crossing my arms, which might have looked a bit defensive, but to be honest, my only goal was to make my hard nipples invisible.

"Back, I guess," he said, offering me a bottle of water, expertly avoiding my gaze. I felt my insides clench even more; feeling this stupid attraction was one thing, but the knowledge he wasn't interested even one bit was a bit humiliating to my ego.

I took the bottle, being extra careful not to touch his fingers, and nodded my head. "Is it long before the sun goes down?"

"A couple of hours, why?"

"Just curious. I'm not really good at that sundial reading, and stuff," I said, now moving my left hand over my right arm as if I was cold on a bloody hot afternoon, "I mean, not as good as you. Well, because you are good at it, right?"

Did I mention that when I'm nervous, I tend to babble?

Daryl blinked a couple of times, sending me a look full of bewilderment. "Ya, I know when the sun goes down if that's what ya mean."

"Right," I muttered, fighting the urge to cover my face with my palm. I handed him back the bottle, deciding silently I am a completely lost case when it comes to interacting with another human being. Might be a good idea to swear silence or something.

Instead of just grabbing the water, Daryl suddenly got up, towering over me. He was so close to my body I could feel the heat radiating off him and I found it hard to breathe again. The distance between us was so small, close to non-existent really, I could feel how he smelled and it could only be described as heavenly. The intoxicating mixture of something immensely masculine, the smell of the forest-covered with morning dew and sweat made me lick my lips unconsciously. As if on cue, Daryl looked down and followed my tongue with his eyes. He stood like that for at least thirty seconds, silently looking from my eyes to my lips, and I knew my once even breathing was now closer to panting. I couldn't force my muscles to move, as if they had a mind of their own and now decided not to budge. Then, he snapped me out of my thoughts, his voice husky and so low I had to lean even closer to hear him, "Don' have to run when ya touch me, ya know. No fleas, princess."

I blinked my eyes once. Twice. By the third time, before I was able to form any coherent response, he grabbed the water bottle from my hand and started walking, as if nothing at all happened. Swallowing, I jogged behind him.

XXX

Any thoughts? :)