I feel like I preface every chapter with an apology for the length between posts - so please take this as another one. Life got crazy and stressful for a while and I didn't have the time or the headspace to write, but I'm back into it now. Thanks to all who are still patiently waiting and reading!

Anyway - picking up right where we left off...

Chapter 33 - Love hurts

As Daryl released her, Tahlia stumbled a little, the only indication that her feet were still on the ground because she felt for all the world like she was soaring.

Awareness slowly seeped back in - the whippet-quick skip of her heart humming in her ears, the shallow snatches of breath tugging at the top of her lungs, and the heat, the heat.

Her body was aflame for him, her cells sparked, awoken, and the memory of that moment imprinted on every last one, destined to be held inside long after the press of him had faded from her lips, long after the taste of him - sweet bourbon heat, smoky undertones, and something so quintessentially Daryl it made her quiver and hunger for more – had dissolved on her tongue. And though he was an arm's length away from her now, he held her in place with the searing intensity of his gaze alone and she was helpless to do anything but stare right back, still reeling from the unexpectedness of that kiss.

Because it was unexpected.

Yes, their chemistry was undeniable - that had been evident from their first encounter – and sure, the lines between them sometimes felt very blurred, but Daryl had resolutely staked his position within the boundaries of friendship, and that had fostered an unspoken understanding that things would never go any further between them. Well, that's what Tahlia had assumed, anyway. And she'd also assumed that the reason Daryl had always been careful not to cross the line with her was because he respected their friendship too much to risk messing it up for the sake of a quick roll in the hay - which she'd secretly thought to be quite honorable, actually, but now that had just happened and thrown everything on its head in the most amazing but very confusing way.

Raising one hand slowly, Tahlia's fingers hovered uncertainly over her still-tingling lips.

"Um…" she started vacantly. "What…? I don't…?"

Words had always been her forte, but right now her thoughts were wild, untamed things, and she couldn't harness a single one to vocalize. And Daryl was just standing there, silent and smug and otherwise inscrutable, not helping matters at all.

Then they both startled a little when someone else entirely spoke.

"Tahly, what the HELL?!" Michonne demanded as she burst through the open sliding door in a harried rush. "I thought you said you were coming like, ten minutes ago?! What's taking you so long?"

Turning to look at Michonne, Tahlia blinked several times, momentarily genuinely confused by her appearance. "Michy?"

"Yes. I'm here. I had to come and find you because we have a fucking flight to catch, remember?" Grabbing hold of Tahlia's arm, Michonne flicked Daryl a cursory glance. "Hey, Daryl. Nice to see you. Come on, Tahly. Taxi's waiting, meter's running. Let's go!"

Still floating somewhere in the clouds, Tahlia didn't have the presence of mind to resist and murmured, "Bye, Daryl." as she gazed back at him – still hadn't moved an inch, still wasn't giving any clues as to what was going in that head of his – and she kept her eyes on his until the last as she let herself be dragged away, back through the house.

"Is that yours?"

"Hmm?"

Michonne pointed impatiently at the small rolling suitcase standing by the front door. "Isn't that your stuff?"

"Oh! Yes. Yep. That is mine." confirmed Tahlia as she drifted over to pick up her case, and Michonne narrowed her eyes as she ushered her friend out the door and towards the taxi.

"Are you wasted or something?"

"No! Not at all. I've had one beer. That's it, I swear."

"Uh-huh, sure." remarked Michonne skeptically. "Get in the cab."

Obediently, Tahlia loaded her case into the trunk then followed Michonne into the back seat. She'd barely shut the door behind her when Michonne turned to her expectantly.

"So? What's going on? Why are you acting so weird?"

"Um…" Tahlia worried her lower lip between her teeth for a moment although she knew there was no point trying to keep anything from Michonne – if Michonne wanted information, she'd extract it. So, still dazed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, Tahlia admitted, "Daryl kissed me."

"What?!" exclaimed Michonne, whacking her sharply on the thigh. "Well, I guess that explains why you're acting like such a space cadet. When?"

"Like…" Tahlia jerked her thumb over her shoulder in a vague gesture to the party that was fast disappearing behind them. "Just then. Right before you walked in."

"Really?! Why?"

Tahlia shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

"More!" demanded Michonne impatiently. "Elaborate! What did he say?"

Raking a hand through her hair, Tahlia puffed out a breath. "Basically nothing! We'd had a normal night – we didn't even see that much of each other – then I went to say goodbye and he just…" She waved a hand in the air, "He came at me, and the kissing happened and then he said, 'now you can go'."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Well, what kind of kiss was it?"

Dropping her head back onto the headrest, Tahlia let out a load groan. "A fucking incredible one."

Dubious, Michonne gave a level hum. "So… you're sure it wasn't just a 'see ya, have a good weekend' friendship kind of kiss?"

Wide eyed, Tahlia shook her head emphatically. "Definitely not. It was more like a… 'I'm ruining your ability to ever enjoy being with anyone else but me' kind of kiss."

"Oh. Right." Drumming her fingers thoughtfully on her thigh for a moment, Michonne screwed her face up. "Was he drunk?"

"I don't think – " started Tahlia, then the rest of that sentence dropped into nothing as doubt edged in. "Shit. Maybe? I mean, that would make sense - he'd been there all afternoon, he'd had a bunch of shots during the speeches, and he… he definitely tasted like bourbon. God, you think he was drunk?"

Michonne quickly held her hands up. "No idea. I only saw him for a few seconds. I couldn't tell. It's just…" She paused, well aware that her line of skeptical questioning probably wasn't the reaction Tahlia hoped for. It wasn't that she wanted to take the wind out of her friend's sails – Daryl had long since proven himself as a loyal and caring cornerstone in Tahlia's life and Michonne respected him for that - but his reputation for cavalier one night stands in lieu of meaningful relationships had her endlessly wary that Tahlia was destined to become just another notch on his carved-up bedpost, left to sweep up the fragments of her heart on her own, and until he undoubtedly proved otherwise, she couldn't help but be cynical. "There's been countless opportunities for something to happen between you two so I'm trying to understand why he'd choose that moment, out of the blue, just as you were leaving. That's all."

"Goddammit Michy." frowned Tahlia with exaggerated huffiness. "I don't want your voice of reason right now. I want you to be all excited and jump up and down and giggle with me over the fact that my cute crush finally kissed me."

Michonne couldn't help but smile wryly at that mental picture – they both knew she wasn't the puerile, giggling type.

"But," conceded Tahlia begrudgingly because Michonne's words had echoed closely to her own thoughts, "I get what you're saying. As amazing as it was, it was still… random. I have no idea why he…" Then she brightened. "You know what? I'm just going to ask him. I'm going to put on my big girl pants and call him right now. But I'll play it cool. I'll be like -" She affected an overly breezy tone as she started to rummage through her handbag for her phone, "'Hey dude, long time, no see! So, that thing you did before? What was that all about? And do you think it'll be happening again, by any chance? Not that I'm wondering, of course. Just, you know, asking for a friend.'" Tahlia snorted. "Think he'll buy that? Ha! Course he won't. He's going to know it's me that's wondering. He's going to know I'm-"

Michonne pressed a hand firmly on Tahlia's wrist, stilling her, quietening her.

"Maybe you should just leave it for tonight."

Fading back into seriousness, Tahlia gazed at Michonne in solemn question.

"Look," explained Michonne gently, "If it was in any way booze-fueled – and I'm not saying it was, just if – well, he's still at the party, he probably has a couple more drinks under his belt by now, so tonight might not be the best time for a… reliable conversation. Give him a little time to straighten things in his head. Let him sleep on it. Let him contact you."

"What?!" exclaimed Tahlia, feigning shock. "So you don't think I should leave him 500 voicemails about how much I loved the kiss and him and how we should immediately get married?!"

Michonne couldn't find humor in Tahlia's lightheartedness because she knew that it was borne from an underlying sentiment that was achingly true. So instead she managed a small smile of commiseration.

"I think you should tread very carefully and very slowly."

Tahlia sat back to contemplate that advice for a moment. Michonne had never been Daryl's biggest fan, so Tahlia hadn't expected anything other than wary reservation from her, and honestly, Tahlia probably needed it to balance out her own excitable optimism. And even though she couldn't help but believe (or blindly hope) that it hadn't been fueled by anything other than decisive intent on Daryl's part - she could recall with absolute vividity the clear focus that had shone in his eyes as he'd strode towards her, the purposeful way he'd kissed her, like he was finally giving in to some long-awaited desire – she knew that she tended to view things in rose-colored light when it came to him, so it was probably wise to slow down, take a breath. Daryl would probably need time to process, anyway. And if it had been intentional, like she suspected, then everything would still feel this full and radiant tomorrow. She could wait.

So, Tahlia heaved a dramatic sigh. "Alright, O Wise and Sensible One. I'll hold off harassing him for now. But if I talk to him tomorrow and it turns out that it wasn't a drunken mistake and he does, in fact, want to do it again and again, then I'll be expecting you to jump up and down and get all giggly with me."

"Of course." grinned Michonne. "I might even throw a little squeal in there, too."

Tahlia laughed delightedly. "I'll hold you to that."

Fortunately for Tahlia, it was easy enough to resist contacting Daryl, as the rest of the night whizzed by in a mad rush.

The airport was all go - queues, check-in, (a quick comb through the shops), boarding. And by the time they landed in New York, made their way to the hotel, checked in there too, found their room and settled in, it was after midnight and they were both exhausted.

"You're such a geek." Michonne remarked with a roll of her eyes as Tahlia threw herself on one of the beds and started flicking through the hotel's leather-bound compendium. "I don't get why the first thing you do at every hotel you stay at is read those things cover to cover. They all say the same thing, you know: dial this number for room service; that number for housekeeping; don't steal the bathrobes; blah, blah, blah."

"I'm the geek?!" laughed Tahlia, craning her neck to look around at Michonne. "You're the one that unpacks all of your stuff like you're moving into the place even if you're only staying somewhere for five minutes."

"You're supposed to unpack! Why do you think all hotel rooms have empty drawers and cupboards?!" Michonne challenged, hands on hips.

"To make it feel more like a bedroom. They're there for decorative purposes only. Nobody unpacks in hotels except for you, you giant weirdo." teased Tahlia as she reflexively reached for her phone on the night stand, a little sigh escaping her lips at the blank screen.

"Nothing?"

"Nope." replied Tahlia, tossing her phone away and rolling onto her back. "I don't know why I keep checking it, though. Knowing Daryl, he probably doesn't even have his phone on him tonight. Pretty much everyone he knows is at the party, so he wouldn't see a need for it."

"And wherever he's left it, the battery's probably dead anyway." added Michonne helpfully through a yawn as she perched on the other bed. "We should get some sleep. The welcome breakfast kicks off at 7:30."

"Aye aye, captain!" acceded Tahlia cheerily, and Michonne immediately grunted in response.

"God. Please don't tell me you're going to stay up all night thinking about Daryl with that big, stupid grin on your face."

"No, I'm not." replied Tahlia, the big, stupid grin still firmly in place. "I'm going to go to sleep right now," She waggled her brows. "And no doubt have some very sweet dreams."

Michonne screwed her face up and threw a pillow at Tahlia. "Gross."

"Ugh!" groaned Michonne sleepily. "Why are you up so early and why are you making so much noise?"

"I'm making noise because it's not early." replied Tahlia perkily, towel drying her hair. "We need to be at breakfast in 15 minutes."

"What?" Michonne sat bolt upright, shoving her dreads out of her face as she grabbed at her alarm, then she glared at the fresh-faced and fully dressed Tahlia. "Liar! It's only 6:45!"

Tahlia shot her a cheeky grin. "Thought that might light a fire under your butt. Get up and get ready. If we go down a little early I'll have time for an extra coffee."

Heaving a tortured sigh, Michonne threw the blankets aside, pushed herself out of bed and made for the bathroom, grumbling all the way. "Well, this is just peachy. So, I have to roll my ass out of bed at sparrow's fart just coz you're trying to fill in time while you wait for Loverboy to call. It's not enough for you to suffer on your own – no, you insist on torturing me as well. Can't believe…"

The rest of her disgruntled rant was lost as she closed the bathroom door, and Tahlia laughed, unperturbed. This was nothing new. Michonne had always been a grump first thing in the morning.

And to be fair, she wasn't exactly wrong.

Tahlia had woken early and although reason told her that Daryl wouldn't have thought to locate his phone before heading to bed (he'd probably only recently made it there, anyway), and was likely to still be fast asleep, she couldn't help hoping that she'd find a drunken text, a missed call, anything at all – but since there was nothing, she was keeping busy in an effort to kill time until it got to a reasonable enough hour when sending him a message of her own wouldn't scream 'I've been thinking about you all night and am desperate to contact you'.

"Ok, I'm nearly ready to hit the breakfast buffet." announced Michonne, the shower having put her in a decidedly better mood than when she'd first awoken.

"Excellent, because I'm definitely ready for coffee." replied Tahlia as she made for the bathroom again. "Let me just dry my hair real quick."

'Quick' equaled about fifteen minutes that morning, and when Tahlia emerged, she immediately stopped in her tracks as she caught sight of Michonne sitting at the head of her bed, a phone in her hand and a sober look on her face.

"You got a message."

Tahlia's eyes widened. "From who?!"

"The president." snarked Michonne drily. "Who do you think?"

Unable to disguise her elation, Tahlia dove onto the bed, grabbing for the phone, but Michonne clasped it to her chest and raised her other hand in the air.

"First, I just want you to remember that he's a no-frills texter, ok?"

The smile faded from Tahlia's face as she pushed herself into a seated position. "Ok…" she said warily, hesitantly reaching for the device and reading the words on the screen.

Call me if you wanna talk.

Tahlia's eyes snapped straight back up to Michonne's. "What does that mean?"

"I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

"Is it?!" Tahlia glanced at the brief message again, her giddiness quickly drenched by a cold wash of anxiety. "But I can't gauge his tone from this! Is this a good talk? Or is this a -" She pulled a stern expression on her face, "'We need to talk.'?"

"If he meant 'we need to talk' like it was a bad thing, then he would've just written that. He's just asking you to call him." reasoned Michonne.

"But what if he's not even referring to what happened? What if he means, 'call me if you want to talk about the weather'?!"

"Ok! You're spiraling. That's enough." stated Michonne as she lunged forward and snatched Tahlia's phone. Despite her misgivings about Daryl's motivation, the fact that he had contacted Tahlia first thing meant that she was important to him, he wasn't playing games, and at the very least wanted to talk things over – and those were positive things, no matter which direction this went, so she felt like it was time she gave Tahlia some reassurance.

"He's never been particularly effusive over messages – you've told me so yourself, time and time again. So instead of trying to pick apart what he's written, why don't you look at the whole picture? He's reached out to you straight away – he's probably only just up – and that means he wants to sort things out and that's a good thing, no matter what."

"Yeah." Tahlia nodded slowly, calming, brightening. "Yeah, ok, that's true. So… what should I write back to that?"

"Nothing!" responded Michonne firmly. "You call him. Just like he asked. Talk to him directly so that you don't have to navigate textual misunderstandings and get all crazy over his sparse wording."

Tahlia snorted. "Shut up. Ok. I'll call him." Taking her phone back from Michonne, she hesitated, her eyes shining in anticipation. "God, I'm all nervous now."

"It's just Daryl. Whatever he has to say, you'll still be friends. He's not going anywhere." And Michonne found that she truly believed that, although it felt out of character to be backing Daryl for once, so she decided to follow it up with, "Well, he'd better not be. He owes you a hell of a lot of money."

Grateful for the humor, Tahlia let out a laugh and nodded. "You're right. I'm being silly. Ok." Just as she was about to dial Daryl's number, she noticed the time. "Oh, shit! The breakfast starts in ten minutes! I mean, I know it's Daryl - it's not like he's going to be rambling on and on, but still… I don't want to rush this."

Michonne shrugged. "Alright… so maybe in that case, just text and say you're keen to talk, but the conference is starting so you'll call him as soon as you get a chance."

"Yeah? You think that's ok?"

"Absolutely. It's honest and direct and doesn't give too much away from your side, just in case. But," Michonne gave Tahlia a stern look. "I think you should leave your phone here in the room otherwise you're going to be checking it every two seconds, and knowing you, if he doesn't reply immediately, you'll probably end up sending him a series of increasingly crazy messages that'll have him running for the hills."

"How dare you!" gasped Tahlia in faux offense. "But you do make a good point. I'll leave it here and sneak back up in the first break to give him a call."

Quickly typing out the message, Tahlia immediately threw her phone onto the armchair and jumped to her feet. "Hurry, let's get out of here before I change my mind and begin my descent into bunny-boiler territory."

The day turned out to be much busier than they anticipated - after breakfast it was straight into the seminars which ran over into the morning break, then when lunch rolled around, Tahlia found herself caught up in networking and there was no opportunity to get back to the room before the afternoon workshops began.

"Oh my God, where did the day go!" exclaimed Tahlia as she and Michonne finally headed back up to their room just after 5pm.

"Right? They really jammed everything in there. It was so good though, don't you think?"

"Amazing. We had some really fascinating discussions in that last workshop. There's also a couple of great speakers lined up over dinner, too."

Swiping the keycard to their room, Tahlia made a beeline for her phone on the armchair. "We have an hour before we have to be back downstairs for pre-dinner drinks, so I'm going to call Daryl now." Picking up her phone, Tahlia gasped. "Oh my God! I didn't press send on that message this morning! It's still sitting here on the screen. Shit, he's going to think I'm such an asshole for not replying."

"Better hurry up and make that call, then." Michonne kicked off her shoes and gave Tahlia a pointed look. "I'm going to go shower and give you some privacy, but if you're sitting here giggling going, 'You hang up! No, you hang up!' when I come out, I'm confiscating your phone."

Flipping her off, Tahlia laughed. "Can you imagine?"

Waiting until the bathroom door clicked shut behind Michonne, Tahlia gazed at the phone in her hand, a rush of butterflies storming her belly as the still fresh and still exhilarating memory of the kiss burst in her mind. She had attempted to prepare herself for every outcome, but she just couldn't imagine how something that had felt so right, so perfect, so overdue, could lead to anything other than more of the same.

Cheeks flushing in anticipation, Tahlia bit back her smile, took a steadying breath, and dialed Daryl's number.

As far as weekends went, Daryl had found this one to be increasingly torturous.

The rest of the party had been fine – unremarkable, but good fun. By midnight it had descended into messy chaos – rowdy singing; questionable dancing; people talking shit and spilling shit and breaking shit. Dwight had power-chucked over the picnic table out the back; Shadow had passed out on the bathroom floor blocking the door and someone boosted Sherry through the tiny window so she could try and shift him enough to get the door open. And aside from the part where some guy was caught with someone else's girl and a fight broke out (Daryl couldn't be bothered getting involved so sat back and let Merle and Justin enter the fray) it was a decent party, one that everyone would be happily reminiscing over for a long while. And although the booze had been flowing, Daryl had laid off it for the rest of the night, primarily because he needed to be at work first thing in the morning, but also because he had been high as hell from that kiss with Tahlia.

That kiss.

Whatever had possessed him to just go for it, he'd never know – maybe the fucking stars had aligned or the universe had done whatever the fuck it did out there or some other bullshit that he still didn't believe in – whatever it was, he was goddamned glad for it, despite the fact it had also given rise to the first torturous part of the weekend – watching her walk away so soon after.

It had taken the better part of an hour for him to regain some semblance of normal functioning, but as soon as he could think straight he'd wanted to call her, check in, ask her if she was ok with what had happened, but his phone was in his truck and she was getting on a plane and honestly, he was certain that she felt the same way about it as he did - euphoric, electric, desperate for more.

The memory of it had kept him wired right up until he fell into his bed at 3am, grateful to finally be able to close his eyes because that was the way he could picture her the clearest.

In the dawn he woke with a smile on his face and felt like an idiot for it, but still it remained while he dragged himself out of bed and languidly began to get ready for the day. It faded a little, however, when he checked his phone and realized that there'd been no word from her – something that hadn't felt like an issue last night – and he wondered if maybe she'd been expecting him to contact her already after all. In a mild panic that he'd managed to mess things up already, he sent her a simple message:

Call me if you wanna talk.

As soon as he pressed send, he wished he'd written something more, something softer; included an 'x' at the end at least, but hell, that text had taken him half an hour to compose, not to mention he'd never used a goddamned 'x' in any capacity other than for spelling words that required one in his life. But it was too late to undo it, and he didn't have another spare half hour to spend thinking of a follow up message, so he left it at that; left the ball in her court and took himself off to work.

He was glad to have something to keep him occupied that morning, something else to think about. Glad, too, that it was only him in the workshop that day. He'd had the foresight to give all the usual guys the day off because he knew they'd only be hungover and useless anyway, but the silver lining of that was he didn't have to make small talk. There was plenty to keep him busy, and though he didn't expect Tahlia to actually call any time soon – he knew her conference schedule was jam-packed and she'd have little time to herself – he kept his phone in his pocket, the ringer on max volume, just in case.

By the time 2pm rolled around and he shut up shop, the first real twinge of uncertainty began to coil in his gut.

There hadn't been any contact from her. Nothing. Not even a simple acknowledgement of his text, and normally she sent him pointless messages all the time just because she was annoying like that, so the fact that she'd gone silent after something momentous like last night was slightly concerning.

In an effort to keep his crowding, jarring worries at bay and to eat up some more of the day, Daryl headed out on a two-hour motorbike ride, and when he made it home only to find that there was still nothing from her, that earlier twinge morphed into sharp, stabbing doubt.

With a smoldering cigarette in one hand and the thumbnail of the other between his teeth, Daryl paced the length of the porch in agitation. He was no expert on the subtleties of flirtation, but surely he hadn't misread the whole situation between them? Surely he hadn't overstepped? Until now, he'd been fairly certain of her feelings towards him – hell, even Merle had said it was obvious how Tahlia felt – but now things felt uncomfortably muddled and he was starting to wonder if she'd even kissed him back or if that had just been his imagination because he'd wanted it so badly.

Forcibly stubbing out his cigarette, he raked one hand through his hair then shook his head.

Nah. This was stupid.

He wasn't going to let his tendency for overthinking undo the feelings he knew to be there between him and Tahlia. There were plenty of reasons why she might not have been able to contact him, so there was no point getting all twisted over it just yet.

Grabbing his jacket, he decided to head down to Fox's where he knew the usual crew were having a quiet hair of the dog. The last thing he felt like doing was socializing, but it was better than pinballing around at home and driving himself crazy.

By the time he walked into Fox's, it was ticking over to 5pm, and he grunted a greeting at Merle and Shadow who were having a game of pool – looking surprisingly healthy – and made his way to the corner table where Dwight and Sherry were draped across each other on one side, while Amber, Tanya and Andrea gossiped together on the other.

Slinging his jacket over the back of an empty chair, Daryl took a seat. "How we all doin'?"

A chorus of groans greeted him and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"That bad, huh? What time did you guys pull up last night?"

"I have no idea." yawned Dwight, stretching his arms above his head. "All I know is that I woke up under the hedge, freezing my ass off."

"You can blame Tanya for that." laughed Sherry. "She didn't want to wake you up because she wanted your spot in our bed. And you were snoring so loud, I didn't want you in next to me anyway."

Tanya threw back the rest of her beer and grinned. "Thanks for that, Dwighty. Sure is a comfortable bed!" She turned to Daryl, "And we got Shadow out of the bathroom, eventually. But he only got as far as the armchair then passed out again."

"That's why you're looking so fresh today, Shads!" called Andrea. "You must've had about 15 hours of sleep."

"Party hard, sleep harder - that's my secret to these youthful good looks." smirked Shadow as he potted the last ball.

"What the fuck, Shads?" grumbled Merle in protest as he gestured at the table with his pool cue. "Gimme a goddamned chance, would ya? We're playin' again, but you need a handicap this time. Andie! Tanya! Come play doubles. Andie, you're with Shadow."

"Fuck you, Merle." complained Andrea good naturedly because it was no secret that she was very bad at pool, and she dutifully let Tanya pull her to her feet and lead her to the pool table, shoving away Merle's attempt at a conciliatory kiss.

One seat away from Daryl, Amber angled herself towards him and propped her chin on her hand.

"So, what happened to you last night? One minute you were there, then you just disappeared. I wanted to have a drink with you."

Daryl shot her a disinterested look. "Went home. Had work this mornin'. Where's Frankie at?"

"At Justin's." supplied Sherry. "She was so sick today. They decided they'd rather watch movies and eat McDonald's in bed instead of hanging out here with us."

Dwight's brows shot up as he turned to Sherry. "That actually sounds so good right now. Remind me why we're not doing that?"

"Because our house is covered in empty bottles and stinks like a brewery."

"Oh. Yeah. Let's stay here 'til closing so we can go home and straight to bed and ignore the mess until tomorrow."

"Sounds good." Sherry agreed blearily.

"Right." Dwight smacked his hands on the table. "I'm going for a smoke, then I'm going to get more drinks."

"I'm coming with you." Sherry grabbed his arm and pulled herself up with him. "I need fresh air. And hey, maybe we can convince someone to get the pizza oven going. I could really go for a slice right now."

"How 'bout I just order you a burger, honey?"

Watching them wander off arm in arm, Daryl unintentionally let out a little huff. People in relationships had that ease around one another, that fluidity together like they were two halves of a whole. He liked that. Wouldn't mind being a half. Felt ready. Hoped it would happen soon. On the back of that thought, he reached down into his jacket and checked his phone. Still nothing. With a dejected grunt, he dropped it back into the pocket, then suddenly became aware of Amber to his right, sitting there radiating that focused, flirtatious energy she seemed to reserve just for him, and realizing that they were the only two left at the table, he shot her a wary look.

"Maybe we could have that drink together now?" she asked with an arch of her brow.

"Was gonna go have a smoke."

"Aw, you can do that after. Don't leave me here on my lonesome. One drink?" She picked up the jug of beer on the table and filled a glass for Daryl, pushing it his way.

Staring at the foamy liquid for a moment, Daryl eventually nodded in acceptance. He could be nice and have a drink with her. Not like he had much else to do right now, anyway.

With a self-satisfied smile, Amber deftly slipped into the seat next to him, lightly but intentionally grazing her knee against his thigh. "So, did you have a good time last night? I feel like I hardly saw you."

"Yeah. Was pretty good. Lotta people."

"Your burnout was super cool. I liked watching you do that. Think you'll take me out on your bike again any time soon?"

Daryl sighed. That old chestnut. "You ever asked Dwight? I'm sure he'd take ya. You could use Sherry's helmet, too."

Knowing she was being shut down, Amber didn't let it faze her and flipped her hair over her shoulder, moving on. "Did you see Miles and Jeannie? They got so messed up, and he's supposed to be on home detention or something. You know what he did?"

Daryl zoned out as Amber related some gossip about people he didn't really know and soon on impulse, he dipped his hand into his jacket again for a quick glance at the screen, letting it fall straight back in as there was nothing to see.

"Daryl."

"Huh?" Daryl looked over at Amber, realizing he hadn't heard a word she'd said. "Sorry."

She laughed lightly. "Am I boring you?"

"Naw. I just…"

"We don't have to talk." Amber said lowly, her eyes darkening, her suggestion clear. "Why don't we get out of here? There's no one at my place right now."

Still and silent and half-surprised that she kept trying her luck with him because his head had been full of Tahlia for so long he was certain it was written all over his face, Daryl held her gaze.

Reaching out, she traced a finger down his forearm. "It's been a while."

Immediately tensing at her touch, Daryl let out a warning growl. "Amber."

"Aw, come on. We could have some fun. Just fun, no strings, I promise."

Pulling his arm away, Daryl shifted his seat back and it made an ugly screech on the floor. "Naw. Ain't interested. Told ya that."

Amber arched a brow in challenge. "You've been plenty interested before."

When Daryl said nothing, her face pulled in a quizzical expression.

"I don't get it. What's the issue? You know we have a good time together, and I know it's only that and nothing more. We're adults, we're single, we're not hurting anyone. No need to overthink it. Unless…" Amber paused and studied Daryl for a moment, then affected what she hoped was a playful tone. "Unless you're not single. Oh my God, Daryl Dixon, don't tell me you're actually seeing someone?"

With a sigh, Daryl rubbed a hand over his eyes, unsure how agreeing to one drink had veered so quickly into a conversation he didn't want to be having.

"You are, aren't you?" exclaimed Amber, taken aback because she had been mostly teasing. "Well, come on, spill! Who is she? How long has this been going on for?"

"It ain't like that." muttered Daryl, his eyes on the beer in front of him that he still hadn't touched.

"Aw, we're friends! You can tell me." Amber was doing her best to hide the tightness in her voice, but she could hear it clear as day all the same. In the next moment, realization smacked her hard in the face and she snorted. "Wait. Is it Tahlia? Oh my God. It's Tahlia, isn't it?" Her eyes darkened and there was no hiding her displeasure now. "Of course it is. I fucking knew it! You guys have been pretending there's nothing going on, but God, it's so obvious." Crossing her arms staunchly, she arched a brow. "So how long have you been fucking her, then? The least you can do is tell me."

Daryl remained motionless, silent, but he could feel the heat rising, blazing on his cheeks.

"Oh." Amber breathed incredulously. "Oh, you're not fucking her, but you want to." Somehow that realization hurt so, so much worse, and she let out a bitter laugh. "Bet that makes a nice change for you. Someone playing hard to get instead of throwing themselves straight at you."

"Stop." warned Daryl sharply.

"Is it the chase you like? Is that what gets you going? Must be the novelty because you've never had to chase anyone before, right?"

"Amber."

"I should've held out on you like she has, strung you along, and maybe this would've panned out differently. Maybe you'd be following me around like a fucking puppy."

"Stop!" growled Daryl, eyes blazing.

But she couldn't. It was all bubbling up from the old wounds she'd nursed for so long. "But no! I'm just an idiot! I put out straight away, you got what you wanted and now you're not interested anymore."

In anger, Daryl banged his fist on the table, turned to face her front on and hissed, "I ain't never been interested, just drunk."

Thunderclouds shadowed her face and Amber glared at him, affronted. "Oh, that's nice, asshole. Real nice."

"Fuckin' hell." cursed Daryl irritably, jumping to his feet. "I'm goin' for a piss."

Watching him walk away, Amber wanted to scream and upend the table and smash all the glasses, but she held it all in and sat there still as stone, outwardly composed despite the churn of her inner turmoil.

She'd always known, really. Always known that she had never been, would never be a someone to Daryl. Always known that despite her efforts, he didn't see her. He saw Tahlia, though, and Amber had always known that, too. It was just that, until now, she'd willfully ignored those things because, well, hope and love made for blind, foolish mistresses. And God, ignoring all that had been a lot less painful than the sting she was feeling now.

A muffled ringing sound dragged her out of her jagged thoughts, and it took several blank moments before she realized that the noise was coming from Daryl's jacket, hanging on the back of the chair next to her. Without thinking about it, she reached into the pocket and pulled out his phone, the name on the screen immediately setting her teeth on edge.

Silver

That cutesy nickname Daryl had for Tahlia made Amber cringe.

"Great fucking timing, Silver." muttered Amber, surprising herself with the level of vitriol in her tone, because she'd always liked Tahlia well enough, after all.

They'd never become close - probably because of the big, Daryl-shaped boulder in their way, conceded Amber wryly – but they were acquaintances, they were amicable. Although in this moment everything Amber felt towards her was edged with irrational, white-hot hostility.

The phone was still ringing in her hand and Amber considered the way Daryl had been intermittently checking his phone since he'd arrived, and she suddenly realized that he must've been expecting a call from Tahlia. Seized by a devilish urge to shake up the good thing the two of them had going on, whatever that was, Amber cast a surreptitious glance around – no one was paying any attention to her and there wasn't even anyone close enough to overhear her even if they wanted to – and her thumb hovered over the keypad for a quivering second longer before she hit the answer button.

"Big D's phone." she drawled in a sultry tone.

"Uh… sorry, who is this?" came Tahlia's voice from down the line.

"His one and only Amber." replied Amber with put on syrupy-sweetness. "Who's this?"

"Oh! Right. Uh, hey Amber, it's Tahlia. How… how are you? Did you have a good time at the party? Hope you weren't too rough this morning. I heard it was a big night."

She was always so goddamned nice. Made Amber feel meaner.

"Tahly, hiii. Mm, it was a late one, lots of fun though, then Daryl kindly offered to take me home and keep me company and we've been… having more of our own fun all day." she remarked coyly. "Good way to clear the hangover, you know?"

There was a long pause, then Tahlia's voice again, sounding strangled. "Uh-huh. So, uh… is Daryl there? Can I talk to him for a sec?"

"Hmm, well, he's a little… busy at the moment doing something that requires his full attention," replied Amber breathily, punctuating her words with lazy giggles, "So he can't talk right now, but he says to take a message. What shall I tell him for you?"

A heavy silence lay leaden between them, then Tahlia cleared her throat, her following words carefully measured. "Nothing, thanks. Nothing at all. You two enjoy the rest of your weekend."

The line went dead and Amber held the phone for a second longer before hurriedly tossing it back into Daryl's jacket pocket. Guilt bloomed hot and fast in her chest, and she quickly wrapped her arms around her waist, as if that would provide some solace from the pathetic thing she'd just done, but it didn't - her heart just ached all the more.

Absorbed by her own misery, Amber jumped in surprise when Daryl appeared back at the table and dropped heavily into his seat.

"Sorry." he said gruffly, his eyes on his hands, his thumbs worrying one another. "Shouldn'ta said that. Weren't fair. Didn't mean it like that. Just meant…" He shook his head as he trailed off and looked up at her ruefully.

Amber's eyes widened in surprise. An apology had been the last thing she'd been expecting, and in that moment, it was the last thing she wanted because it only served to dissipate the resentment and intensify the wretchedness she was feeling.

"I get it." she replied eventually, mollified. "I know there's never been anything from your side. I guess I just always hoped that maybe one day there would be."

"I know. Sorry 'bout that, too."

Surveying him for a moment, Amber couldn't help but ask, genuinely curious, "So… what it is about her, then? What makes her so special?"

Daryl chewed on his lower lip, then shrugged. "Dunno." he answered honestly.

"But… there's something."

"Yeah. Always has been."

Contemplating that, Amber nodded in resignation. She couldn't argue with that. So instead, she offered an olive branch of sorts.

"Come, let me buy you a fresh beer."

"Nah." Daryl shook his head and stood up. "I'm gonna go for that smoke."

Shouldering his jacket, he fished his phone out of his pocket once again, disappointment flashing briefly across his face before he turned to walk away.

Amber bit her lip. She should tell him. She should really tell him what she'd done.

"Daryl!"

He turned around expectantly and she took a breath, then lost her nerve.

Didn't really matter, she reasoned. It would probably only take them all of five minutes to figure it out, then Daryl would be fuming with her and actually, she'd quite like to delay that part for as long as she could.

So, instead, she shot him a small, sad smile. "If it doesn't work out with her, you could always give me a call."

Daryl's brows pulled in pity and he shook his head because he knew what he was about to say was the absolute truth.

"If it ain't her, it ain't gonna be no one."

Emerging from the hotel bathroom in a fluffy bathrobe and a vanilla-scented cloud of steam, the first thing Michonne noticed was Tahlia leaning over her suitcase on the luggage rack, haphazardly tossing items over her shoulder.

"Tahly? Why are you chucking your stuff all over the place?"

"Looking for my slip to wear under my dress tonight." stated Tahlia without turning around, her cheery tone cleared forced. "Would be a lot easier if I'd just unpacked all of my things like you did!"

Michonne's face clouded and she immediately strode over to her. "What happened with Daryl?"

"Oh, look. Here it is." Brandishing the black slip, Tahlia turned to face Michonne her eyes wide and wild.

"What. Happened." demanded Michonne.

Tahlia swallowed hard, her voice trembling when she said, "He's with Amber."

"What? What do you mean?"

"He's with Amber."

"He told you that?"

Pulling a humorless smile, Tahlia shook her head. "He didn't need to. She told me herself when she answered his phone. They went home together after the party, and they're still together now. Sounded like I caught them right in the middle of being together, actually."

"What the FUCK?" exploded Michonne clenching her fists in fury. "He kissed you and then he went home with someone else?! What the hell is wrong with him?! What did he say?"

"Nothing. He didn't want to talk to me. Told her to take a message."

"That fucking prick! Why the fuck did he tell you to call if he was with her?!"

Tahlia shrugged miserably, barely managing to contain the torrent of tears stinging at her eyes. "Guess he just wanted to make sure I wasn't reading into what happened; make sure I knew it didn't mean anything. And oh my God, look at me!" Sniffing, Tahlia swiped a hand across her face to quickly sweep up a few errant teardrops before the rest got any ideas and tried to follow. "One drunken kiss and I'm acting like he's called off our engagement or something. I'm such an idiot!"

"You're not!" flamed Michonne, thinking that it was real lucky for Daryl that he was in a different state right now, otherwise she'd be on her way to tear him a new one. "He's the asshole here! Right. I'm calling Andie and I'm going to tell her to get Merle and –"

"Don't!" Tahlia begged desperately, grabbing Michonne's arm. "Please don't tell anyone about this, not yet. Please. I feel so stupid, Michy. So fucking stupid. I've always known what he's like with women, so this shouldn't have come as a surprise. It did, but it shouldn't have. I mean, you even warned me. I just… You know, I'd prepared myself for him to tell me it was a drunken mistake or a one-off or something, but this? This, I was not prepared for and…" She trailed off and pressed her fingertips over her eyes for a long moment, sucking in a slow shuddering breath. She'd let herself feel too much, hope too much, and now it hurt. Deep and raw and ragged. But she couldn't sink into it. Wouldn't. She'd cover it up and push it down and just keep moving forward, for now, at least. Dropping her hands to her side, she gave herself a shake and with a decisive nod said, "Enough. That's enough now. The dinner starts soon. Let's get ready. We don't want to be late."

Brow knitted in concern, Michonne reached out for her friend. "Tahly."

Tahlia pulled a smile on her face. She'd always been good at that. "I'm fine, honestly, I'm-"

"You're not."

"Nope." Tahlia immediately agreed, her smile slipping as she let Michonne take her hand. "No, I'm not, but I will be. And right now, I want to get through this dinner and then the rest of this conference, and to do that, I just need to put all of this out of my head. Forget the whole thing. I don't even want to say another word about any of it, about him, until we're back home. So, please, for now, can we just pretend that none of this happened?"