It's been an age! I just found this chapter so hard to write and I don't love how it's turned out, but I want to move on so it's getting posted.

Chapter 31 - Money talks

There were a few Dixon family traits, Merle reckoned. Characteristics passed down from their forefathers, built into their blood.

Stubbornness was one. The predisposition to be bullheaded and stick to their guns despite common sense and reason, to dig their heels in when challenged, just on principle. Fieriness was another. The simmer under their skin that could see them flare from zero to a hundred in a moment if someone lit a match too close and provoked them.

Though the ready volatility of the brothers' youth had faded with the years and these days, it took a lot more to set them off – when their temper did spark it was hot and fast, and it was fruitless to try and appease or reason with them until they'd cooled down. Which was exactly why, when Tahlia had attempted to go after Daryl at the fair, Merle had caught hold of her, stopped her - he knew she'd only get burned.

Distressed and remorseful, Tahlia spilled all the details of what had transpired and then (while keeping his opinions on the matter to himself for the time being) Merle firmly steered Tahlia in the direction of his truck – Daryl wouldn't be coming back that night so there was no point in hanging around – and with easy assurances that Daryl just needed some time and everything was going to be just fine, Merle and Andrea took her back to the apartment so she could lament in private.

Daryl's disappearing act was something that he had done his whole life, ever since he was a boy. At first, Merle had thought that it was fear-driven, that Daryl had wanted to hide away from their father, and he wasn't proud of the fact that at times when he'd been feeling particularly wretched in his own skin, he used to mock Daryl for being a weak little candy-ass, for running away like a pussy when things got tough instead of standing his ground like a man. It wasn't until later, when they were both grown, when time had closed the age gap between them and life experience had widened his perspective, that Merle had truly started to get to know his brother and he quickly realized that Daryl's compulsion to seek space from the world had nothing to do with weakness, he was just a lone wolf and a ruminator.

If Merle was left in his own company for too long he got all antsy and strung-out and craved interaction, while the opposite was true for Daryl. Daryl needed time alone to decompress, to reenergize, to process, to breathe. This was especially and unfailingly true in times of stress or high emotion, and Merle was well-versed in these cases. Daryl would disappear without warning, go radio silent – the time out was usually proportionate to the height of the emotion, but a couple of days was the average. Trial and error over the years had shown Merle that attempting to contact Daryl was, at best a waste of time, and at worst, a catalyst to exacerbate the situation and keep him AWOL for longer. Attempting to locate him was an even more disastrous tactic. Daryl would reappear when he was ready. Sometimes – if there'd been an issue between the brothers – they'd have it out upon Daryl's return before things were officially 'sorted', but more often than not, Daryl would just walk back into the house and pick up where he'd left off and Merle would launch into conversation like he'd never been gone, or even just ignore him and that was that.

This time, given that it was Tahlia that was the cause of this spat, Merle was unsure how things would pan out - Daryl and Tahlia had such a close friendship and intense feelings beyond, so maybe Daryl wouldn't stay mad at her for long, maybe he'd bounce back quickly; but maybe because it was her he'd feel the sting more keenly, feel the need to retreat further, shut himself away for longer.

The tell would be in whether Daryl showed up for work in the morning or not.

Sure, tomorrow was set to be the biggest day of Daryl's career to date with the official transfer of the business into his name, so sense would say of course he'd show up. But, Merle knew, stubbornness often trumped sense, and it was entirely possible that Daryl's stubborn streak would kick in and he'd throw in the towel on the deal and walk away from both that and his job just to make a point, and if that happened, shit would get real messy – with work and with Tahlia - and God knows how long it would take to clean it all back up again.

So, expecting the worst because that's what he was conditioned for, Merle called Dwight in the morning ready to recruit him to help with damage control, but instead found himself whooping loudly with relief when Dwight informed him that Daryl had arrived at work bright and early and he was standing right there in the workshop finalizing things with Axel, and he looked "pissier than usual, but maybe that was just coz of nerves".

After that, Merle was feeling pretty optimistic about the situation. No doubt Daryl would still need space and would likely drop off the radar again for the weekend, but the fact that he'd actually gone to work told Merle not only had he already cooled down enough to be around other people, but that he was committed to the business deal and was obviously in a reasonable enough frame of mind to keep moving forward with it despite the fact it was currently funded by Tahlia's money. Merle figured that Daryl would just need a little push to get him out of his head sooner than later, and then everything would be back on track.

He wasn't worried in the least when he, nor anyone else, didn't hear from Daryl all weekend, because he was smugly certain that Daryl's sense of responsibility would have him home by Sunday night, ready to clean up and rest up for the work week ahead. In preparation for this, Merle dropped Andrea back at the apartment early Sunday afternoon and even passed up a jam session with his bluegrass buddies just so he could plant himself on the sofa and wait for Daryl to show his face.

Normally he would never put this much effort into trying to catch Daryl, but maybe he was more invested in his little brother's happiness than he cared to admit - he just wanted Daryl to succeed with this business venture and he really wanted Daryl and Tahlia to sort their shit out because he was real fond of the way those two little idiots glowed around one another. Damn. Maybe he was just getting way too soft around the edges these days.

Sprawled on the sofa half-watching a documentary on sharks, Merle was getting both bored and mildly irritated because it was nearly half nine and there was still no sign of Daryl and how much fucking time did he need to take?

Finally, there came the crunch of tires on their graveled driveway, and soon after, the scrape of the key in the front door. The door swung open and Daryl stomped in, pausing briefly to shoot Merle a wary look before dumping his pack and jacket on the floor, then he moved through to carefully stand his crossbow in the corner beyond the table.

"Where you been?" asked Merle lightly, even though he knew Daryl would've been in the woods somewhere, and actually he didn't care where he'd been, only that he was home now.

"What's it to you?" grunted Daryl as he headed to the fridge.

"You been in touch with Tahly since the fair?" Merle already knew the answer to that question too, because he'd had to tell Tahlia to calm her tits just that afternoon when she was dramatically lamenting that Daryl would probably never speak to her again.

"Nope."

"You still pissed at her?"

"Don't wanna talk 'bout it."

"Tough. We're talkin'."

Daryl knew well enough by now that if Merle had something to say, it would get said regardless of anyone else's feelings on the matter, and after a weekend of thinking and hunting and barely sleeping he was too weary to argue, to evade. So, grabbing hold of a beer that he didn't even really want, he turned and popped the cap on the edge of the countertop as he heaved a put upon sigh and sent a flat look Merle's way and waited.

With a benign smile, Merle sat up and angled himself towards Daryl, casually throwing an arm across the back of the sofa.

"That's a yes, then. You're still pissed."

"She lied 'bout filin' papers for me and then went behind my back and got financially involved in my business after I explicitly told her not to." snapped Daryl. "Yeah. I'm still pissed." Which was true, but not in the same way it had been the night of the fair. Since then, his red-hot anger had diminished and given way to something else buried in its ashes, something more akin to hurt, but Daryl hadn't wanted to explore that too deeply. Not yet.

Merle hitched a shoulder. "That really don't sound so bad."

"She's meant to be my friend and my lawyer and she blatantly bullshitted me!" exclaimed Daryl indignantly. "That's fuckin' messed up! And, I'm pretty sure, illegal. I could have her… have her disbarred."

Screwing his face up, Merle waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, fuck off. You ain't gonna do that. Ain't none of us whiter than white."

Daryl gave a sullen huff. Of course he wasn't going to do that. It just felt empowering to say it out loud.

"Anyway," continued Merle, "She said she tried to talk to you a bunch of times about lendin' ya the money and you wouldn't even hear her out."

"That don't make it ok for her to do what she did!" flared Daryl, banging his fist on the bench. "Who's fuckin' side are you on?"

"Ain't on no side. I'm Switzerland." declared Merle magnanimously.

"Well, you can take your fuckin' Swiss ass back to Tahlia and tell her the same thing I told her from the start – I don't want her goddamned money! Not a cent. That's why I'm gonna reapply for the loan and pay her back with it. Borrow the lot from the bank just like I was gonna do in the first place."

Merle studied Daryl thoughtfully. "Are ya, now?"

"Yep."

"Think that's wise?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" bit Daryl defensively. "That was always the plan 'til she went rogue."

"Alright," Merle nodded, clapping his hands together decisively. "If you're serious 'bout that, let's go through the numbers."

"I been through 'em a hundred times."

"Not with me, you ain't. I wanna take a look."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "What for?"

"So I can see if things are as dire as Tahly thinks they are."

"She said that?" asked Daryl wide-eyed, wounded.

Merle pushed himself to his feet. "May as well have, right? Coz it ain't like she's poured all that money in just for shits and giggles. She knew you'd get fucked off, but she did it anyway, so she must'a thought there was good reason. Why else would she risk fallin' out with you?"

"Maybe she's just stupid." muttered Daryl uncharitably because it was much easier than admitting Merle had a point.

"Maybe." chuckled Merle. "And if it turns out there weren't no need to do what she did, then I'll tell her that myself and help you sort the loan. Go get the paperwork and we'll take a look."

Chewing his lip in contemplation, Daryl considered that it could be nice to talk things through with his big brother because actually, after thinking himself inside out all weekend, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. While he was still stubbornly almost certain that he would pursue the bank loan just to ensure he wasn't beholden to Tahlia (mainly because the sting of his broken trust was still very fresh), the amount of money still made him feel wobbly. Even more so now that Merle had just voiced Daryl's own fears that he'd been trying to keep conveniently buried – Tahlia wouldn't have done what she did without solid reason – so he could really use some reassurance that he was making the right decision, that he could make this thing work without Tahlia's help. And shit, if there was anyone that would give it to him straight, no sugar-coating, it was Merle. So, with a hesitant nod, Daryl disappeared to his room to fetch the box of documents.

By the time he returned, Merle had donned his reading glasses and was sitting at the dining table waiting for him.

"Alright!" Merle declared, as Daryl pulled a stack of papers from the box and spread them out. "Show me whatchu got and we'll see if I learned anythin' from readin' your business course notes."

"'Kay." started Daryl, taking a seat next to him. "Here's the shop's financials, the uh… the balance sheet and the P&L…" He still felt like a fraud, using terminology he'd only recently learned as if he were confident in what it all really meant, but Merle just nodded sagely and Daryl figured, fuck it, at least he'd actually attended the classes, so surely he knew more than Merle. He slid another set of documents towards Merle feeling a little more sure of himself. "Cash flow for the last three years. Numbers look pretty good, huh? And I know ain't there ain't no hidden surprises coz I been workin' right next to Axel for a long time."

Making a series of thoughtful noises as he studied the papers in front of him, Merle scanned the revenue figures. "Got a good client base now but might lose a few in the first months with the handover. Axel's got a lotta loyal guys that maybe won't wanna stay if he ain't in charge. You factor that in?"

"Thought about it." replied Daryl. "But I know most of 'em pretty well, and I picked up a lot of the stuff that Axel would usually do since his arthritis been botherin' him, so they know I can do the work to the same standard. Don't reckon it'll be an issue."

With a neutral hum, Merle continued to run his eye over the page in front of him, then shot Daryl a sideways glance.

"What about this note? You got a rent review of the premises in 90 days."

"What about it?"

"Well, your rent'll go up."

"Might not."

"The rent ain't been raised in 5 years coz of the relationship with Axel. Place is due an increase. Could be a grand a month more just to bring it up to market rates."

Daryl scowled and crossed his arms. "That sounds like a direct quote from Tahly."

"Coz it is." affirmed Merle. "She told me Axel warned you 'bout that."

"And what else she tell ya, huh?" snapped Daryl testily, suddenly flooded by the suspicion that maybe Merle wasn't goddamned Switzerland after all. "She tell ya to convince me to do things her way? That what this is really about?"

"Whoa, whoa." Merle raised his hands and his brows. "Cool it, baby bro. Tahly gave me a rundown of the situation, that's all, and now I just wanna understand what the best option is for you so you can make this work. That's what this is about. I don't wanna see ya fuck it all up and sink the business."

Daryl glared at him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"All I'm sayin' is that you got an option to have the money as is, interest free. If you're gonna take on more debt, then you'd better be able to pay for it. Lemme see those loan calcs." Grabbing the loan documents, Merle let out a low whistle and pointed to the monthly repayment amount. "I ain't no scholar, but even I can see that that number is dangerously close to the amount in your pocket each month. You know I ain't payin' all the bills round here for ya, right? I ain't coverin' your ass. You still gotta pay your own way."

"Course I know that!" replied Daryl sharply and tapped a different figure. "You're lookin' at the amount for interest plus principal. Here look, this column is for a longer loan period, and this one here shows interest only. I'll do that for the first year 'til I get it all figured out. Them payments ain't that bad."

"Interest only?" scoffed Merle. He had intended to tread softly with Daryl, but he hadn't seen these numbers before, hadn't realized how high they were, how potentially crippling, how crazy Daryl was to even consider this when he had a better option, and he was finding it difficult to hide his scorn. "So basically you're sayin' you're just gonna piss money up against the wall for a whole year just to be in the same position you're in now, coz you won't have paid off a cent of the loan. You get how fuckin' dumb that sounds, right? Tahly's money is interest free, and you can see right here from these fuckin' numbers in front of you how much that means you'll be savin' yourself over time. That's money you could be puttin' towards growin' the business, makin' it better. I get you're all sore that Tahly wasn't straight with ya, but you just gotta get over that. Don't be a fuckin' tool, brother."

Daryl's eyes flashed and he sat back in his seat, folding his arms resolutely. That was not the reassurance he'd been hoping for. "I don't wanna owe her nothin'."

"What's the difference between owin' money to her or to the bank? 'Sides the obvious of savin' on all that interest."

"We ain't talkin' fifty bucks here, y'know! It's three hundred fuckin' grand! Can't take that kinda money from a friend."

"Why not?" countered Merle. "She's got it and wants to give it to ya. And shit, most people don't got friends with that kinda money to loan out in the first place. Should count yourself lucky. If I was in your position and Tahly offered me that deal, I wouldn't get my panties all in a twist, I'd take it, no question!"

Daryl stared darkly at Merle. "That's different."

Merle screwed his face up. "How?! It's exactly the fuckin' same. Tahly's a friend and…ohh." Pressing his lips shut, Merle's brows shot up and he nodded slowly. "So that's why you been actin' like a little bitch over this. Coz you wanna hook up with her but you ain't done it yet, and now if you make a move, you reckon it's gonna look like you're doin' it just coz of the money, like a gratitude fuck or somethin'."

With a low groan, Daryl squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a palm to his forehead miserably. Another of his fears that Merle had effortlessly voiced. Fucking asshole knew him too well.

"Did I not fuckin' tell ya weeks ago to get in there? Shouldn'ta taken so goddamned long. Whatchu been waitin' for anyways? Spend all your damn time with her and you still ain't even-"

"Shut up, Merle! That ain't helpin'!" growled Daryl, pushing himself to his feet. As if he hadn't kicked himself a hundred times for not doing things differently. As if he hadn't replayed every single scenario that wouldn't have landed him here. He didn't need to hear it from Merle, too.

"Alright, alright!" cackled Merle. "Sit down. I mean it, sit the hell down. That's it. Y'know, ain't no one gonna think that. Least of all her. Them two things ain't even remotely related."

"I know that." muttered Daryl sullenly.

"And so will she. What you're thinkin' don't make no sense, anyway. Coz where do ya draw the line?"

That had Daryl peeking up through his hair curiously.

"Yeah," affirmed Merle, picking up momentum. He really enjoyed making a point. "You saved her life, didn't ya? Can't get much bigger than that. If anyone's gonna be dishin' out gratitude, should be her, right? Think the three hundred grand covers it? And everythin' you done for her after?"

Daryl's eyes widened in horror. "That's got nothin' to do with this! She knows she don't owe me. Ain't no way she thinks that!"

"Naw." replied Merle easily, leaning back in his chair. "Course she don't. But by your logic, that's how you think."

"I do not fuckin' think that!" Daryl insisted vehemently. "There ain't no price on nothin' I done for her! Not now, not ever. I'd do anythin' for her just because."

Merle grinned, pleased. "That's right. And her doin' somethin' for you ain't no different. We do shit for our friends coz we love 'em, and we do it without expectin' nothin' in return. It ain't transactional and I can't believe I even have to spell that out for ya."

With a sigh, Daryl shook his head. "But what's she's done it's… it's too much. Probably take me a lifetime to pay her back."

"She would'a factored all that kinda shit in, so no point worryin' 'bout that. Seems like a real big fuckin' deal to you, I know, but it ain't like that to Tahly and you gotta try and understand that. I reckon what you need to do is take the dollar value away from it, just see it as a gesture, a helpin' hand. Like…" Merle gazed skywards for a moment in contemplation. "Like, say she needed a car and you had a spare lyin' around that you weren't usin', that you weren't gonna need anytime soon. You'd give that car to her without even thinkin' 'bout it. And if she said, nah, I think I'm gonna take out a high interest loan that I ain't sure I can afford and buy one instead, you'd tell her she was a fuckin' idiot."

Daryl shot Merle a withering look. "Ain't comparable. That's just a car."

Merle held up a finger. "My point exactly. To you it's just a car and no big deal, but it would be massive to her. You know how she feels about anythin' car-related. She hates dealin' with that stuff. Just the idea of a flat tire gets her all het up. You get what I'm sayin'?"

Weirdly, Daryl did. And suddenly it all flipped and morphed into something that made sense and felt a damned sight easier to live with, and he looked at his brother in loose admiration. He should really give Merle more credit for his ability to make things seems so simple, so black and white.

And as if Merle could see that Daryl had finally landed on the same page, he grinned widely.

"See?" he declared, opening his hands benevolently. "It's all good. You can have your cake and fuck it too."

Daryl immediately screwed his face up at his brother's crassness and shook his head. "Jesus, Merle. And to think you were doin' so well."

Tahlia hadn't expected it to go like this. Sure, she had figured initially Daryl would be annoyed at her, but she truly thought that he'd let her explain and then they'd go over the numbers again and he'd be fine – maybe even pleased – and they'd just move on, no harm done. She should've known though, really. Money, and his perception that she was some entitled rich bitch had been the first point of contention between them, and though it hadn't come up as an issue for a long time, clearly it was still a spiky subject for him.

And the way he could withdraw so easily, go silent, unsettled her and just made her want to reach out to him even more desperately, plead her case and beg for forgiveness. But she was under strict instructions from Merle to leave Daryl be until he was ready or risk making everything worse. So aside from straight after the fair when she'd left two apologetic voicemails and three text messages of the same sentiment, she had (only just) managed to restrain herself from contacting him for the rest of the weekend. So disheartened by the crashing disappointment she felt every time she checked her phone and there was nothing from him, she'd considered destroying the damned device altogether, but had instead opted to leave it at home all Sunday while she kept herself busy with errands in the morning and a grueling afternoon at the dojo.

On Monday morning, however, she awoke to a text from Merle:

Talked to D. Gonna be fine.

And though she couldn't get hold of him for any more information, it was better than nothing and sounded promising.

But it was also very vague, and by the time she got to work she was all in knots again wondering what exactly they had talked about and when things would be fine and how much goddamned longer she'd have to suffer through zero contact.

And then an appointment appeared in her work calendar – 1pm, Wednesday, Daryl Dixon.

Whilst it helped to know there was a concrete time set to see him again, the fact that Wednesday rushed around (for once she was grateful for her hectic workdays that greedily gulped down her waking hours) and they'd still had no contact unnerved her, as she had no idea what version of Daryl to expect.

It was ten minutes to one when the receptionist called through to her office.

"Tahlia, your 1 o'clock is here. He's waiting for you in Room 3."

Never late. Thought Tahlia fondly despite the apprehension prickling her skin as she made her way to the meeting rooms. Daryl was never late.

The door to the meeting room was open and she could see him standing by the floor to ceiling windows, hands deep in his pockets, eyes focused out on the city streets below, and even from this distance she could feel the dark tension rolling off him. But, Tahlia cocked her head to one side in interest, it didn't seem like it was anger though, mainly on account of his shirt. He'd come from work – it was a weekday after all – he had his work jeans on and a smudge of grease down one side of his neck, but he was wearing a fresh shirt. Which meant he'd changed before coming to see her. Yes, he'd always said he felt out of place at her work, but if he were still furious with her, he wouldn't have given two shits about that and would've stormed in, oil stains and all, but as it stood, the clean shirt indicated he was both nervous and level-headed enough to consider his appearance, and that set off sparks of hope in her chest – perhaps Merle was right. Perhaps it was going to be fine.

"Hi, Daryl." Tahlia ventured softly, shutting the door behind her, and Daryl slowly turned to face her, steel glinting in his eyes. "Thanks for coming down here today. You didn't have to. I mean, you don't have to book time in with me, I always have time for you. You know that, right?"

He said nothing, his expression inscrutable, so Tahlia shot him a tentative smile as she pulled out a chair and gestured to another on the opposite side of the table. "Shall we sit? Do you want something to drink? I can order coffee or-"

"What you done ain't right." interrupted Daryl, abruptly taking a seat and planting his elbows on the table. "The way you done it."

Folding her hands demurely on her lap, Tahlia nodded. "I know."

"Shouldn'ta gone behind my back."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"Pretty shady thing for a lawyer to do." continued Daryl sternly. "Even shadier for a friend."

Cowed, Tahlia dropped her gaze.

"Hate that you lied to me."

"I hate that, too." admitted Tahlia quietly, peeking up at him. "I didn't plan to, honestly. It was a last-minute decision. I was going to file the papers for your loan and then… I just didn't. And I didn't tell anyone else what I was doing. Nobody knew. This was all me."

Strangely, knowing that she hadn't confided in anyone else made Daryl feel a little better. He studied her for a long moment, then his forehead creased. "If you thought I couldn't afford this, couldn't make this work, then why did ya push me to go through with it in the first place?"

Leaning forward in her seat, Tahlia shook her head vehemently. "That's not what I think! This is a good deal and a fantastic business move for you – I truly believe that. It was just Axel bringing the timeline forward put pressure on your finances that you wouldn't have otherwise had. And yes, technically you could make the repayments to the bank but things would've been really tight," She shrugged. "Why would you put yourself under that stress if you don't have to?"

"That weren't your decision to make."

"Well," countered Tahlia gently, "You were too stubborn to have a single civil and sensible conversation about it."

Daryl glared at her and Tahlia quickly held her hands up, placatory, somber.

"I'm so sorry, I really am, Daryl. I should never have done it like that, it was so stupid. All I wanted to do was help you, and I've ended up hurting you – I feel terrible. You have every right to be mad, it was unforgiveable, really-"

"It ain't."

Tahlia snapped her mouth shut at the interjection and gazed at him.

"Unforgiveable." Daryl clarified softly. "It ain't. Stupid, yeah, but I know you were tryna be helpful. And… I get it, coz it is, I just never wanted to take your money."

"Why not?" asked Tahlia in a small voice. "It's just money and it's just sitting there."

Just as Merle had said. It really wasn't a big deal to her. "It's just sittin' there coz it's from your dad and you ain't never wanted to touch it."

Tahlia contemplated that for a moment. "I've never wanted to touch it because I didn't know how to use it in a way that would make me happy. But I know now. This makes me very happy. Giving it to you."

"You ain't givin' it to me." Daryl quickly corrected her. "It's a loan and I want a contract sayin' as much."

Tahlia's face lit up. "So that means you're ok to leave things as they are?"

Puffing out a breath, Daryl rolled his eyes. "Guess it makes sense. But only if there's a proper contract, a watertight one like what I would'a had with the bank."

"Yes, of course." nodded Tahlia eagerly.

"With all them legal terms and stuff."

"Sure thing."

"And I feel like I gotta pay some interest, so I want you to add an interest rate into it."

"Nope." Tahlia arched a brow and returned his hard stare. "No. No interest."

Eventually, Daryl begrudgingly relented. "Fine. Then I want a monthly minimum repayment amount written into the contract."

"Fine." agreed Tahlia. "But I'm setting the amount."

Daryl's nostrils flared in annoyance. "Naw! You'll make it somethin' real stupid low."

"It'll be reasonable." Tahlia assured him with wide-eyed innocence.

"By whose standards?"

"Ok, either I set the amount, or you can set the amount, but you can't make any repayments for the first year."

"Don't push it, Silver." growled Daryl, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms staunchly. "You ain't in a position to be negotiatin' with me."

Ducking her head to try and hide her smile only worked for a moment, because then Daryl kicked at her ankle under the table and Tahlia couldn't help but tip her head back in laughter.

"Ok, ok." she conceded when she'd caught hold of herself. "We'll do it however you want. Promise."

Attempting to remain stony-faced, Daryl's twinkling eyes gave him away and Tahlia knew then that they really were going to be just fine, and she huffed out a happy sigh of relief.

"So…" she ventured, propping her elbows on the table. "How's it been so far? Your first few days in charge?"

Softening, Daryl shrugged. "Alright, I guess. Feels kinda weird. But also… feels kinda the same as it's always done, too. 'Cept I'm supposed to know all the answers now."

Tahlia smiled. "The good thing about being the boss is that even if you don't know the answers, you can just make them up. Do things however you want to do them. You're going to be amazing."

Daryl just rolled his eyes because she was always telling him that. Then his thumbnail found its way between his teeth as he nervously remembered that sorting the loan and smoothing things over with her weren't the only things on his agenda today. He wanted to lock in some time alone with her so he could try and finally move them off this goddamned merry-go-round of friendship.

"You uh… you wanna hang out tomorrow night?"

Wrinkling her nose apologetically, Tahlia shook her head. "I have a client dinner tomorrow, sorry. Think it'll be a late one. But I was planning to swing by Dwight's party on Friday."

"Mm-hmm," hummed Daryl undeterred, because he had a plan B in mind. "What about after that? On Saturday, I mean. Maybe we could head to the cabin?"

"Ugh! I have that law conference in New York this weekend. I'm flying Friday night, so I'll have to bail from Dwight's at like, 7:30 to go to the airport."

"That's this weekend? Damn. That came around real quick."

"Yeah, I know." sighed Tahlia wearily. "I'd rather not be going, but unfortunately, duty calls."

"Right then. Guess I'll see ya Friday." It wasn't ideal, but he could make it work. It was either that or leave things be until the following week, and he was pretty sure he'd go around the bend if he waited much longer. Then, slapping his hands on his thighs, he stood up. "I gotta get back. Crack that whip."

Laughing softly, Tahlia smoothed her dress as she followed suit and got to her feet, then caught her bottom lip between her teeth tentatively. "So… are we ok?"

Daryl gazed at her for a long moment before nodding slowly. He couldn't stay mad at her even if he tried. "We're good. Just don't go pullin' no more shady stunts on me again."

Tahlia pressed a hand solemnly to her chest. "That was a one-off, I swear."

"Good." Daryl made his way to the door and paused. "And, thank you. For helping me out. Appreciate it."

That made Tahlia beam and Daryl flicked her shoulder. "Write up that contract, ok?"

"Yes, boss. I'll have it done this week." Tahlia extended her hand. "Let's shake on it."

"Fuck outta here." Daryl slapped her hand away. "That's stupid."

Tahlia laughed. "Ok… how about we hug on it?"

Gazing down at her, Daryl gave a short, guttural growl then reached out to catch her wrist, pulling her against his chest, hugging her slow and tight as he briefly shut his eyes, and everything felt right again and this was all he needed, really. Her. And God, Friday couldn't come soon enough.