Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. I only own this crazy storyline and any characters that I may create.
"Are they arguing again?" The words fall innocently from Carl's lips as he looks up and out the kitchen's entrance.
Maggie bites down on the inside of her cheek, stifling her laughter. Poised at the sink, Lori stops mid dry with her hand grasping a dish. She shoots her husband a distressed look. From her perch on the countertop, Andrea looks at Shane who is sitting across from the young boy with Rick and Dale. Shane catches her eye and wanders if he can answer this. He runs his hand over the top of his bald head, he needs to answer this to make things right. "Carl," Shane starts aware of Rick's nervous look and Dale's narrowed eyes. Both are waiting for him to screw up. "Daryl is just talking with Carol." Shane answers as he decides to keep it simple.
"He yelled," Carl said his expression quizzical.
Shane is astounded in certain moments at his naiveté. At other times, the boy seems almost world weary. He smiles. He is glad that the innocence is still there. "You know that redneck. Always shouting about something. Just his way, Carl."
Lori breathes a sigh of relief and mouths a silent thank you to Shane as her son nods and returns to assist with the group's shucking of corn for supper.
Andrea doesn't miss the exchange, the pride that washes over Shane's face at doing something worthy of Lori's appreciation. It bothers her and it doesn't. She enjoys Shane but knows it doesn't go much beyond that. Shane is in love with Rick's wife. It is a triangle that Andrea does not want to turn into square. She sighs, knowing distance will be the only answer and she hates that. She looks toward the stairs and smiles knowing that her two friends have the exactly the opposite problem. She guesses distance will be impossible for them after today. Oddly, it makes her feel better.
Carol tries to catch her breath. Daryl is heavy on top of her, his breathing hot, fast, and irregular against her neck. Her whole body is humming from her climax. She can still feel the vibrations in her clitoris. God. She didn't think it was possible to feel like that. Her legs ache from their spread position so she lets them ease down to the side only to be caught by Daryl's hands.
"Don't," Daryl pants against her ear. "Jus' stay like this." Daryl bends his knee and thrusts his hips forward keeping her open with him deep inside.
Carol nods. She lets her hands drift upward. She runs them lightly, barely touching up the length of his spine. She smileds when she hears him moan. Contentment. Her grin widens and she laughs.
Daryl smiles against her neck at the sound of her laughter. He kisses her skin softly, sucking it between his teeth first. "Somethin' funny," he teases.
Carol shakes her head. "Just happy," she whispers.
Daryl lifts his head to look down on her. "Yeah?"
Carol nods, silently.
"Happy?" Daryl repeats.
"Like off the charts," Carol grins.
Daryl looks confused.
Carol leans up to press her lips to his. "You're like a 1-10 scale, I am off the charts, happy."
A slow smile spreads across Daryl's face. He leans down and kisses her. He means for it to be a soft short kiss but it is not. Her lips are sweet better than dessert. Her mouth even sweeter like candy. He rubs his tongue along the length of hers. He breaks away only when breathing became a necessity however he remains hovered millimeters over her mouth.
"What?" Daryl says unable to hide his smile. "Are ya gonna keep laughin' like that?" Daryl grouses as he tries to sound annoyed but knows he doesn't even come close.
"We just had sex." Carol says.
Daryl cannot believe that they are having this conversation. It is a surreal experience for him. He isn't used to laughing or conversing with a woman certainly not after mind blowing sex. Sex like he had never fucking had before. "Yeah," Daryl answers as he trys to keep the shit eating grin off his face. "I know that, woman. I was there," he huffs.
"You and I," Carol's laughter brings more tears to her eyes. This might be the most cathartic day of her life between the orgasms and this goodness that just welling inside her from him.
"That's funny?" Daryl asks.
Carol shakes her head. "Just so unexpected."
Daryl nods his expression thoughtful.
"I always though it would be someone like Andrea. With you." Carol whispers the last part, an uncertainty rising that maybe speaking the words would make them come true. She knows it is stupid after all he is with her, inside her. Still.
"Ya think I would be with fuckin' Annie Oakley. She almost took my head off," Daryl glares. "Plus, she ain't my type."
"Who is your type? Before all this," Carol gestured outward with her hands.
Daryl ponders this unsure whether to answer but he has always been himself if out of nothing but pure defiance at pretense. "Easy."
Carol smiles at this honest answer.
"Yours?" Daryl asks even more unsure if we wants to know the answer.
"Rugged," Carol says honestly. "Like Tom Selleck."
"Tom Selleck," Daryl snorts the name. "That pansy ass actor ain't rugged."
"He's not Pamela Anderson, either." Carol says, dryly.
"Doesn't matter now. What was before," Daryl whispers. "That type was for fuckin' not for..."
Carol looks up at him, questioningly.
Daryl looks down at her. "Not for makin' love," he whispers. He begins to move on top of her. "Never really had a type for that until now."
"Now?" Carol whispers.
"You," Daryl says. He is surprised at how easily the truth comes forward. His mouth hovers above hers again.
"Me, too." Carol answers. Her hips rise to meet his. Their lips collide. This time it will be deep. This time it is all about love.
A/N: I have a hard time ending this story but this should be it! BTW, I do love Tom Selleck!