A/N: Well...this little fic is dedicated to Viking Death March … who pointed out that I seem to write fics that lean towards angst and character death. This fic is a happy and positive one...so I hope y'all enjoy! I plan it to be a two-shot so look for an update in the near future:) I thrive on reviews...the more I get, the faster I'll post the next chapter! A big thanks to those who've been reviewing and following my fics recently...it makes me happy:)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I am no one.

Daryl stood nervously, his arm outstretched and his palm open and facing Carol's hunched form. A dozen sparkling metallic circles lie in his hand, waiting for Carol's choosing.

"Pick yer favorite," he said obviously shoddy in the romance department. This was his idea of a proposal. He wasn't getting on one knee, wasn't declaring his passion in long-winded statements, and he certainly wouldn't make a bigger deal than need be. Maybe before the world went to shit, he would have tried to woo her, ole-fashion like his mama once told him. They didn't have time for that. They lived every day like it could be the last because it very well could be. Carol was his and this was how he intended to show it.

Carol turned from the perch she'd been trying to organize. Twice a day she cleaned up the area they shared together at night, and never did she feel like it was really clean. Daryl managed to make a mess of the few possessions he'd managed to start collecting since they settled in at the prison. She straightened and rearranged but this man was just plain messy. God help her, but she loved him for it.

As she turned to him, the dim light they had indoors caught the palm full of rings, enlightenment dawned in her blue eyes. Her mouth dropped slightly, but she caught it quickly. She knew Daryl well enough to know that he wouldn't want this to be a big deal. Questioning his actions would only make him impatient and defensive.

She collected herself for a quick moment, refusing to let her features betray her surprise and excitement. A small smile graced her features so she could let him know she was pleased. Tentatively, she lifted her hand to inspect the pile.

"Wasn't sure of yer size," he said about the extreme variety. Carol suppressed the giggle that threatened to rise from her throat. All of the rings looked to be about the same size. Her eyes immediately spotted a silver one in the pile, three glistening princess cut diamond stones arranged in the center. It wasn't gaudy, but it was definitely much more ornate than anything she currently had in her possession. She stared for a second at the piece and before she could choose a hand to put it on, Daryl had caught her left in his. He lifted it himself and slid the ring onto the finger of the hand that implied marriage. Carol was not surprised to see it fit perfectly. This man, who knew everything about her, would of course select the perfect ring.

"Thought you might like tha' one," he said admiring it on her hand. What he didn't tell her was how nice it looked on her hand compared to the undead bitch he'd ripped it off of. Daryl, with Rick's permission, had spent the last few weeks tracking down female walkers with rings adorning their hands. Every time he put a geek down, he'd inspect the ring, clean it vigorously and hide it. It took him three weeks to gather a good sized collection of rings. It had taken him another month to get the courage to offer them up to her.

"I love it Daryl. It's perfect. Thank you," Carol said quietly, coiling her arms around his neck. In a rare moment when his crossbow was not in the way, Daryl responded, wrapping his arms about her waist. He smiled into her shoulder at her reaction, happy she didn't get all loud and squeaky like other broads. He pulled her close and reveled in her warmth.

"Love ya," he said pulling back far enough to look into her eyes. Without a word, she kissed him then, responding with her actions. Daryl felt giddy. This woman had changed his life and zombie apocalypse or no, he was more than grateful she'd come running into his life. She had helped mold him into a man he'd never thought he could become. This ring was his promise. He promised in actions what he could never speak in so many words. He would keep her safe, fed and as happy as they could possibly be in this fucked up world.