AN: Here we are, a little shopping trip for our couple.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Daryl parked the truck in the parking lot outside of the store.

The place was like a sex warehouse, as far as he could tell. It advertised having everything under the sun, and there were large billboards for it on the highway. He had never actually stopped there, but he'd looked at it, as he drove by, with a great deal of curiosity. He'd always said that, one day, he was going to go inside for no other reason than to see what was in there.

It seemed that, today, he was finally going to see the inside of the place.

They had decided to come early—when fewer people would be likely to be there, they reasoned, not that Daryl imagined the place ever got too packed—and Daryl was still swimming in something of a haze of happiness brought on from the already perfect morning they'd shared together.

Carol had woken him up with a smile, sweet kisses, and the offer that, though she didn't really feel like morning sex—the first proof that she was accepting that she could voice not wanting something—she could take care of a few of his needs. She had worried, out loud with him, that she was lacking in the required skills to do it well, but she insisted that she wanted to try. Daryl was more than happy to oblige her, and he had promised her that, if she were truly lacking in skills, he hadn't missed them at all.

Daryl had never imagined that a woman could be so happy over praise from giving a blow job, but she'd invited him to shower with her—just to shower—and she'd smiled at him nearly the whole time. He'd even caught her smiling when she thought he wasn't looking.

She'd made breakfast, and he'd made the bed when she refused to let him help her cook. They'd eaten a king's meal of nearly every breakfast food that Daryl could imagine, and he would have been satisfied to spend the rest of the day napping the meal off on the couch with her, but he'd promised her this—and he wasn't going back on that promise.

Still, she looked a little pale sitting next to him in the parking lot.

"You ready?" He asked.

She looked at him, bug-eyed. He swallowed back his amusement.

"We don't gotta go in, you know," he offered. "If you don't wanna do it, I won't make you. We'll go—wherever you want. Back to your place or…we could go…buy some books or…something. Anything you want."

Carol relaxed a little and smiled to herself.

"I'd like to go book shopping with you," she said.

"You'd rather do that?" Daryl asked. "I mean—we could do both. We could—do this now and do that another day."

Carol smiled to herself. She relaxed a little more.

"Always another day," she said.

Daryl laughed to himself.

"I hope so," he offered. "At least—I'm gonna want that. Another day. Hey—listen. You said you wanna do this, but I won't drag you."

"I want you to look, too," Carol said. "Not just me."

Daryl laughed.

"Well I'm not goin' in there to hold your purse or whatever."

"What if you don't like what I pick out?"

Daryl shrugged.

"I'm gonna like whatever you pick out," he said. "Or—at least—I'ma try whatever you pick out. I kinda figured this is like the buy what'cha wanna try thing here, and we'll talk about the what we like stuff later. When we try it. I mean—maybe you don't like everything I pick out. Maybe I don't. That's what we figure out later, right?"

"OK," Carol said.

"OK? You ready?"

Carol nodded and opened the truck door as proof of her desire to go inside. Daryl got out and followed her. He opened the door to the store and held it for her to pass inside. There were no windows, and the door was covered over in something like paper or plastic that made it impossible to see inside. The "Open" sign on the door was the only thing that made it evident that the seemingly dark place wasn't closed.

Inside, they were alone except for a woman flipping through a magazine behind the counter. She welcomed them without even looking at them, and informed them that they could ask for help if they needed any.

There were baskets, and Daryl snagged one of them, sure that they would leave with at least a few items.

The first area they passed had clothing. Daryl gestured toward it.

"Costumes," he said.

"You're into that?" Carol asked.

"I might be."

Carol smiled at him. Her cheeks were blushed pink, and he imagined that they would both get through much of this adventure with a semi-permanent blush.

"If you find something you like, let me know," Carol said.

Daryl nodded.

"We'll come back to it," he offered.

The next stop around was an overwhelming collection of DVDs. Daryl thought the selection might have rivalled Blockbuster. Both he and Carol, standing shoulder to shoulder, skimmed through a couple of titles.

"You're not a fan of porn," Daryl said, recalling earlier conversations.

"Some of these look like—movies," Carol said. "Not like—what Ed made me watch once. That was just like…hey you called for a plumber and then they're having terrible sex and she clearly wasn't enjoying it—I don't care what she said."

Daryl snorted. Her face told him exactly what she thought of those terrible sex porn films.

"Even the ones pretendin' to be movies are just as bad," Daryl said. "Trust me—I live with Merle."

"Speaking of which," Carol said, "I got a text from Andrea this morning. She's staying over—seems like they might be making their own movies, among other things."

"I ain't judging," Daryl said. "We'll come back to this—if we want it."

As they started to get a little more into the large selection of toys, Carol clearly tensed. Daryl squeezed her shoulder.

"Hey—you bought your other stuff, right?"

"Actually—not in a place like this," Carol said. "The little one—I got in a drug store. I bought it before Ed and I were divorced. He never would've let me come someplace like this. I just—picked it up when I was buying some other things."

"They sell that shit in drug stores?"

"The little ones," Carol said.

"And the other?" Daryl asked.

"It was a—gift. From Andrea. When I first met her. After Ed. She joked that—every woman needs a little dick in her life…and she…you know…"

"Gave you a little dick," Daryl supplied with amusement. Carol laughed to herself and covered her face with her hand.

"That sounds so awful when I'm telling it to you," she said.

Daryl shook his head.

"No—I'm just thinkin'…Merle mighta met his fuckin' match in that one," Daryl said. "Well—here—go wild. I mean it. Whatever the hell you want. If you think it's the slightest bit interesting, you drop it in the basket."

Daryl gave Carol a little space to look at things. He thought she might feel a bit more relaxed if she could examine things and fill her basket without him looking over her shoulder. He wandered around, too. He was amazed at how many things there were to look at. He'd never imagined that there were so many toys, games, and other accessories that someone might want in the bedroom. Really, he'd always thought of sex as simply very basic. Although he was still pretty convinced that he could live content with sex, as he knew it now, for the rest of his life, he did like the idea that there was so much variety for those who were seeking it. He certainly couldn't imagine that there was any reason for anyone to complain about their sex life being boring.

Daryl rested the basket on the floor beside Carol to let her fill it if and how she wanted, and he slipped around the corner.

The few "for men" items that Daryl found were slightly horrifying. He had zero intention of using most of them if he could avoid it or talk Carol out of it. In fact, he decided to steer her away from one corner entirely, if that were at all possible. Further down, he found a whole collection of fake pussies and everything else that he could imagine—and plenty that he didn't really want to imagine.

He had no need for even trying any of that. It didn't matter how "silky" and "luxurious" the packages claimed their products to be, he had a hard time imagining that any of them would come close to the real thing. Maybe other assholes hadn't appreciated it in the past, and maybe he didn't agree with Merle's pretended beliefs that the pussy was the whole package, but he was a pretty big fan of Carol's pussy. As far as he was concerned, it was pretty damn perfect as far as pussies went.

And he was more interested in what Carol wanted—and in entertaining her—than finding things that were marked to be marketed toward him. This was Carol's adventure, and she was allowing him to be part of it.

Luckily, it seemed that many of the items in the store were marked for "her pleasure," and that was what mainly what Daryl figured they needed.

Daryl found Carol with his eyes. She was studying a wall, obviously engaged in her task. He left her alone. He made his way up to the front of the store and plucked another basket from the stack. The woman behind the counter looked up from her magazine and tracked him with her eyes for a moment, but ultimately found him uninteresting.

Daryl scanned the racks. He picked up items, read them, and considered them. One by one, he dropped items that interested him into his basket. When he was satisfied that the had at least a few things that could help pass some time, he made his way back to the outfits and rifled through them. There was something for everyone, really, and any costume that might help fulfill a fantasy was on display. Though Daryl wouldn't be against seeing Carol in any of the costumes—and, in fact, he was pretty sure that he'd find her attractive wearing an industrial strength black garbage bag with holes for her head and arms—there were two costumes that grabbed his attention. He quickly added those to his basket, as well.

He skipped the movies, snagged what appeared to be a table game, and strolled over to what he might consider the practical corner of the store. He'd already decided he was footing at least half the bill for this adventure—and, at the very least, the whole price of his basket full of novelties—so he opted for the largest bottle of lubricant available that advertised itself as being not only helpful in the bedroom, but specially formulated for sensitive skin. Daryl didn't know if Carol's skin was particularly sensitive, but it stood to reason that the skin that would be most affected by their adventures would be at least a little sensitive. For good measure, he also got a small bottle of a different type of lubricant that bragged about the amazing, never-before-experienced sensations it would offer to the both of them.

When Daryl found Carol, she smiled at him, and then her eyes dropped to his basket. They went a little wide.

"You've been—shopping," she said.

He glanced into her basket.

"You ain't done so bad yourself," he offered.

"Daryl?"

She plucked the outfits from his basket and held them up. He felt his face grow warm.

"No?" He asked.

"There's hardly anything here," Carol said.

"I could be totally wrong on this one," Daryl said, "but I think that's the point." She made a face—almost like she was struggling with the outfits. "They ain't nothin' but novelties, Carol. Like—toys, almost. Dress-up. Besides—you kinda liked the idea of the movies for a minute. This is just pretend."

"I won't look good in this," Carol said, waving one of the outfits at him. He couldn't help but smile to himself.

"You would look fuckin' incredible in that," he said. "But—if you don't want to…"

"You really like it, don't you?" Carol said.

"I'm real visual. I like to see things," Daryl offered. He could tell that she was considering it. He got the distinct feeling, in his gut, that it wasn't that she was fully against it. There was something else there. "Nobody's gonna see it but you and me." She looked a little more relieved. "You gonna look amazing. But if you don't want to…"

"It's just for pretend," she said. "Like—a fantasy."

"That's all it is," Daryl said. "Like—in your books, right? Like see? You got themes like the west and, sometimes, like the one in Scotland, when they go there. This is just like—it's like…a fantasy."

"Like visual storytelling," Carol offered.

"Exactly," Daryl confirmed. He realized, at that moment, that she was looking a great deal more relaxed about the whole thing.

"It's kind of—embarrassing," Carol said.

"You got no reason to be embarrassed around me," Daryl said. "Hell—I thought—with all this…we're gonna have to agree either to not let a single damn thing embarrass us or, I don't know, to just embrace the fuckin' embarrassment."

"Embrace the embarrassment?" She asked with a smile.

"That's part of the laughter, right? The playing? Ain't that what you said you wanted? Good sex, that you enjoyed, that could have laughter and playing?"

She smiled to herself, sincerely.

"That is what I want," she said. "And this is—playing dress-up."

Daryl nodded.

"Tell you what," he said. "If you'll—just try 'em, I'll…wear somethin' you want." The corner of her mouth curled up.

"You're serious?" She asked.

"Go ahead," Daryl said. "Embarrass me or…whatever you want. Same deal as yours, though. Nobody sees it but us."

She nodded.

"Kilt," she said.

"What?"

"A kilt," she said. "I think I'd like it if…"

Daryl felt his face burn, but he couldn't very well ask her to dress up for him if he wasn't willing to do the same for her. He nodded.

"Fine," he said. "See if they got what you want."

Carol smiled.

"Come on. I've got to find these in my size, too," she said. "I'm flattered you think these would fit, but I'd need at least two just to cover me."

Daryl followed after her.

"I got an idea," he said. "If you're up for it. Could make the whole thing more like a game."

"What is it?" Carol asked, reaching the racks and clearly starting to go in search of Daryl's preferred costumes in a size that she thought would be more appropriate for her body.

"You don't peek no more in my basket, and I won't peek in yours," Daryl offered. "We'll each buy our own baskets. Separate. Then we can—open 'em when we get to the house."

Carol turned around. She practically lit up when she liked something, and Daryl's stomach reacted to her expression. He felt an odd swell of pride and pleasure that he could simply say something that made her so happy.

"Like a surprise!" She said. Daryl laughed to himself and nodded.

"Yeah. Like a surprise."

"I love that!" Carol said.

"Me too," Daryl agreed.

Her smile didn't fade. Instead, she pointed toward what had her attention, a moment before, on the rack.

"There—find your size. You can pick the color you want. Either is fine with me."

Daryl laughed to himself and flicked through the rack of costumes where Carol had directed him. He was glad they were keeping this a secret between them. He could call it whatever he wanted, but Merle would never let him live it down if he found out he was buying a skirt.

But, for Carol, he'd buy one—and wear it, too.