Author's note: Thanks gain to kat-valkyrian for her help with this chapter and also thank you Akaitsume for listening to some Daryl introspection and whatnot to make sure the last part of this chapter wouldn't come off as OOC. Love you ladies!

Chapter Nineteen

The Mason Trio were just approaching the wall when Jason and Daryl slipped through the gate. Neither of the girls had arrows nocked, but they were, as Daryl had seen before, quick draws, so that didn't mean they weren't as deadly as if they had arrows at the ready. Jethro's rifle rested casually in the crook of his arm, and he ambled toward them with all the confidence of a man who already knew the outcome of the situation.

"Afternoon, gentlemen!" Jethro called, stopping about six feet from where Jason and Daryl had stopped shoulder to shoulder, weapons at the ready. Daryl glanced at Jason, finding the young man looking at him. It dawned on Daryl then that as Rick's second in command this was his show on this side of the wall, especially in front of these people. It would give a sense of order and organization to have that solid social structure blatantly on display. Though no one had apparently seen fit to discuss it; like it was a given that Daryl would be taking charge today. Daryl felt his gut get tight and his palms got sweaty. What if he fucked this all up? He wasn't a diplomat. As if in answer to Daryl's thoughts, Jason's eyes flicked toward the Masons pointedly. Daryl blew a small sigh out through his nose. It really didn't matter, did it? This was just one more thing he was doing for Rick, to make the man's life that much easier and, more importantly, to keep him safe. In the end, that mattered more than Daryl's insecurities. Turning his attention back to the group in front of him, Daryl took one step forward. The question, 'What would Rick say?' ghosted through the back of his mind, but Daryl wasn't sure he'd be able to follow through on anything he might come up with in that regard. He'd just have to wing it.

"What the hell are y'all thinkin' y'might get outta this?" he asked, deciding beating around the bush wasn't worth the effort.

"An ally," Jethro answered immediately. He had seemed to stiffen when Daryl had stepped forward instead of Jason. "In case y'all hadn't noticed, the world's gone a few steps back. Those of us not trying t' eat each other would probably do well t' band together, however we can, an' see what we can make o' this new world."

"Yeah. We've dealt with men with pretty words before," Daryl said and shook his head. "We ain' about t' give you any more ground than we gave him."

"I think that's fair," Jethro said his tone nothing but agreeable. "We don' know each other, but I can see that y'all are willin' t' at least give us a chance or y'wouldn't be out here right now. That's good. It means our people might survive longer still."

Daryl lifted his chin, eyeing the three of them with obvious reluctance as he informed them, "Yeah. We just wanna be clear. We ain' taken in strays an' we ain' int' surrenderin'. You get that?"

"Yes. An' if that's the case, then I think we'll be getting' on jus' fine," Jethro told him with a wide grin.

Daryl gnawed on his lower lip for a moment before spitting to the side and stepping forward. There wasn't a lot of ground to cover between them so in seconds he was looking Jethro right in the eye. "We'll be takin' those weapons fer now. Y'all won' be needin'em on the inside."

Daryl heard the rustle of leaves as Jason came up behind him. Jethro and both girls handed over guns, quivers, bows and knives without protest, Jason taking all of the weapons and either shouldering them or sticking them in his waistband or pockets accordingly. Daryl brusquely patted Jethro down and when the man stepped aside, his girls made to follow him. Daryl, not leaving anything to chance, shoved his own discomfort down hard in the back of his mind and lifted an arm barring their way. "Sorry, ladies. Ain' nothin' personal."

Daisy looked like she'd swallowed a tadpole, but Daryl wasn't taking no for an answer. They didn't have the luxury of being gender courteous.

"Go on girls. I'm sure Daryl's goin' t' be the perfect gentlemen," Jethro ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

"Y'all could at least buy a gal dinner first," Daisy grumbled almost sounding good-natured as she lifted her arms. Daryl ignored her, running his hands over places he'd known women to keep small guns and knives hidden. He stepped away as soon as possible and turned his attention to Mary Ann who was staring him down like she'd rather gut him than play along. Daryl met her stare for stare. It took Jethro clearing his throat for her to let out a huge, aggravated sigh and spread her arms. Daryl went over her body with the same brusque thoroughness that he'd gone over Daisy and then quickly stepped away with a nod to Jason.

"Right this way folks," Jason murmured and turned heading straight for the gate. Daryl brought up the rear, eyes trekking all over the forest around them and glancing behind them periodically despite the short walk to the wall. It wasn't until they were all through and Glenn was locking up the gate behind them that Daryl felt he could relax even a little bit.

Jethro and Daisy seemed to have the same reaction they all had had their first time through the gate. Jethro let out a long, low whistle and Daisy gasped, little hands flying to her mouth. Mary Ann, however, just stared hard at the rest of the welcoming party where Rick, Abraham and Michonne stood just a few feet in front of them. Something about the way the woman was assessing Rick, with a long and hard stare like she was just drinking in the sight of him, made Daryl's hackles rise. Unable to resist, he brushed past their guests and stepped right up to Rick, mostly blocking Mary Ann's view as he leaned in close. Rick bowed his head a bit, expression open.

"Gave up their weapons without a fuss. Man says he wants t' form an alliance exactly like Jason thought he would," Daryl informed him in a voice pitched low. "Didn't seem put off by our conditions neither."

Abraham moved forward after hearing Daryl's words, offering to take some of the weapons from Jason, who handed them over gratefully. Rick watched the exchange for a brief second then turned his attention back to Daryl. The man laid a hand on Daryl's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before he stepped away. Daryl turned and followed, sticking close to Rick's side. It was comforting that Michonne was right beside him with her fingers curled lightly around the hilt of her katana. She was just as unlikely to let anything happen to Rick as he was.

"Your weapons will be put somewhere safe for the duration of your stay," Rick drawled as he neared the group. A nod from him sent Abraham and Jason off with said weapons so that they could store them while Rick kept their guests occupied. "I'm sure you can understand our concerns with allowin' complete strangers int' our home given what it's like outside these walls."

"No hard feelings," Jethro told him and offered his hand. Rick, after only a moment's hesitation, took the last step forward so that he could take it. "Name's Jethro Mason. These here are mah girls. Daisy's the little blond beauty there. Mary Ann's the leggy brunette."

"Oh, Daddy," Daisy giggled and playfully slapped her father's bicep as she moved by him to offer Rick her hand as well. Rick gave her a light handshake and did the same when Mary Ann quietly offered her hand as well, but seemed to find the taller woman wasn't inclined to let him pull away as quickly as Daisy had.

"It's a pleasure to meet you…?" Mary Ann murmured questioningly, her eyes staring right into Rick's.

"Rick Grimes," Rick answered, stepping back and pulling his hand gently but firmly from the woman's grip. "This here, as I'm sure you're all aware, is Daryl Dixon. And this is Michonne. That's Abraham, and if I'm not mistaken y'already know Jason."

Jethro nodded. Daisy chirped a polite southern belle hello, and Daryl noticed that Mary Ann had yet to take her eyes off Rick. It was starting to make Daryl grind his teeth a little in annoyance. He knew the man looked good in the light blue plaid button down he was wearing, but she didn't have to stare at him like she was undressing him with her eyes. There was an oddly heavy feeling growing inside him, one that made his shoulders feel tight and his chest feel twisted. Just the thought of that bitch putting her hands on Rick again, or even getting closer to him than she already was was enough to start Daryl's blood boiling.

"It looks like Jason's Pa wasn't all that crazy after all," Jethro said, pulling Daryl suddenly from his tumultuous thoughts. The man took another slow look around and hummed. "And he's found himself a good family group."

"Y'all do seem real nice," Daisy put in her smile sweet as sugar. It seemed she was having trouble looking away from Rick too which soured Daryl's mood even more.

"Thank you," Rick responded politely, but he then made it clear he wasn't there for small talk by getting right back to business. "We've got a place set up for you three t' stay the night. We're not the type t' send y'all home after dark. We'll be having our conversation up there as well."

"Much obliged," Jethro drawled and when Rick turned to lead the way to the horse barn, Daryl fell in directly behind his shoulder, leaving Michonne to take up the rear. Once they were safely in the apartment, Rick invited the three of them to sit, taking the armchair he and Daryl had moved to the other side of the coffee table the day before. Jethro settled on the middle couch cushion and his girls settled to either side of him. Daryl, aware that Michonne was going to stay by the door, took it upon himself to retrieve a bottle of warm water for everyone. It had been decided that they would share as little information as possible with these folks until a decision could be made to treat them better or throw them out on their asses entirely. Daryl had wordlessly agreed that the fewer Homestead benefits that came to light during this initial visit, the better off they'd be.

Once everyone had a drink, including Michonne, Daryl settled himself in the armchair that they had moved off to the right of the one Rick now sat in. The room was silent for a few moments while everyone took a sip of water and got comfortable. However, Rick had never been a very patient man once he'd set himself on a path, and it wasn't long before he was leaning back into the pillowy embrace of the chair and asking, "So, I hear you want t' form some sort of alliance."

Jethro cleared his throat and wiped some moisture from his beard hidden lips. "That's exactly right. Way I see it, y'all've got things we don't an' we've got things y'all might need. Workin' together gives us the opportunity t' pool our resources, conserve our food caches and, should the need ever arise, there would be some help t' call on if either o' us gets int' some kinda trouble."

"What Dad means is," Mary Ann spoke up and leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. Even from the angle Daryl was at and despite focusing hard on her face, he still found he could see straight down her shirt. Damn but he hated women. They were such conniving people. "We would like t' trade with you. He wants to barter for goods, supplies and necessities."

"Like two neighborin' countries!" Daisy looked incredibly pleased with herself for that analogy. Rick glanced about the three of them for a moment before folding his hands over his abdomen.

"I see," he murmured and then nodded a little. "We'd have t' work out some kind o' system, a way t' communicate, make a schedule and a way t' keep it all balanced."

"But it would be worth it, son! I can promise you that." Jethro seemed so certain that this was the best way. Daryl didn't exactly disagree but he certainly wasn't too happy about the risks this arrangement would be exposing his family to.

"Can you now?" Daryl's eyes darted over to Rick. That was his serious voice. "What do y'think you've got that we might possibly need?"

Jethro smirked. "It ain't all about the resources," he stated. "Sure necessities are important, but not all resources are things y'can hold in yer hands."

"I'm listenin'," Rick acknowledged a moment after Jethro had paused as though letting those words sink in. The rest of the meeting was a tedious and repetitious stretch of conversation. Rick and Jethro went back and forth about the pros and cons of an alliance, half-hashing out most of the parameters and details as they went. At one point, and all Daryl could think was 'Thank fuck a break,' Glenn had interrupted them by bringing in some home baked snacks. Rick had asked him to bring back some pens and notepads, and Glenn ended up staying, settling himself on the floor so that he could use the coffee table as a desk while he wrote out the important points of the discussion.

The sun had set and all of the baked goods had vanished by the time the room fell silent. Daisy yawned and rocked up onto her feet. "Well, I'm beat."

"I'm sure we all have plenty t' think about t'night," Mary Ann added and stood with all the grace of a doe. Daryl got to his feet at the same time as Jethro, Glen and Rick standing up almost immediately after.

"We do," Rick agreed and glanced around like he was checking the place over one last time. "If you need anythin', anythin' at all, you jus' knock on that door and one o' the guards will getcha whatever you need. There's some dry foods in the cupboards and some bottled water under the counter. Feel free to help yourselves."

Glenn was already walking out of the apartment. Daryl waited for Rick and Jethro to shake hands one last time and then followed the other man out. Michonne filed out behind him and as a unit the four of them moved off along the landing until they stood in front of the tack room away from prying ears. Already, Tara was settling herself in a chair by the apartment's door, taking up first watch. Daryl couldn't help but notice that Michonne was focused almost entirely on the other woman. Rick seemed to notice as well.

"You're sure you're okay t' take first watch?" Rick asked.

Michonne nodded, saying, "Tara and I will have it covered until about two or so. At that point, Abraham and Rosita will be relieving us."

"Good. Good," Rick murmured and rubbed at his chin his five o'clock shadow sounding like sandpaper under his roughened fingertips. "Thank you."

Michonne simply turned her lips up in a classic smile and then made her way over to join Tara by the door. Once she was gone, Glenn said, "I'm gonna see if I can't write this up into some kind of formal document."

Rick nodded and as if that were a dismissal, Glenn too turned and walked away, taking the stairs at a jog. Rick looked to Daryl then and Daryl felt himself go still. "Tell me the truth," Rick said, tone completely earnest. "Do y'think this is the right thing t' do?"

Daryl shifted his crossbow to his shoulder, letting the strap take its weight so he could fold his arms. "If they're tellin' the truth," he began and glanced back at the door for a moment. When he turned back, Rick was still staring at him with those searching blue eyes. "They've got a real doctor there…and a teacher…I'd say we could use the extra hands. So long as they don't drag us down."

Rick nodded and patted Daryl's shoulder. After a moment, his hand settled, and he gently steered Daryl around. That hand then fell to the small of Daryl's back as they made their way over to the stairs. Once on the steps that hand disappeared, but Daryl felt its ghost-touch all the way back into the house.

Three days. It had been three days of limited tours, discussions on morals, runs and resources, and watching their backs for knives that never landed.

Daryl was tired of playing nice with people he wasn't entirely sure he trusted yet. Being tired put him on edge. It made him irritable. Incredibly irritable.

He hadn't realized just how much he'd come to appreciate the moment to unwind his downtime with Rick gave him. Now that Rick was spending almost every waking moment watching over the Mason Trio, Daryl hardly saw him face to face. Lately, the only time he got to spend with Rick was either sleeping or when it was Daryl's shift for following the man around as he discussed labor and trade balance. Carl had started calling it Guard Dog Duty, and Daryl had to admit it was a pretty accurate description of the situation. Judith cooed up at him from where she rested in the crook of his arm, pulling him out of thoughts. She'd finished her breakfast bottle a few minutes ago, but she'd promptly started to fuss when he'd made to get up out of the rocking chair, so he started rocking her again, pleased by the fact that she was pleased. Rick came out of the bathroom seconds after he'd started to rock her again.

"She bein' fussy?" the other man asked softly, cupping a broad hand to the crown of Judith's head.

Daryl offered Rick the empty bottle. "Yeah," he murmured. Bottle gone from his fingers, Daryl tugged the baby blanket a little bit tighter around Judith's legs. It was starting to really get chilly out. He'd have to talk to Jason about how to get the place heated up for the settling cold. They were unlikely to have any more warm days.

Fiddling with the bottle, Rick glanced up at the door and then slowly turned his attention back to the pair in the rocking chair. "I honestly can't wait for these folks to be on their way," he murmured and leaned down to kiss his daughter's forehead a few times the action slow and measured. Rick's way of savoring moments that would change all too soon. Judith was definitely getting bigger given Daryl's arm was getting tired already.

"Day after tomorrow," Daryl reminded him, thankful for the reminder himself that these discomforts - like the nerves from having to spend so much time caring for a baby when he hardly knew much at all about it and the frustration he was starting to feel like pressure building at the base of his skull every time Daisy batted her lashes at Rick or Mary Ann flashed a little cleavage Rick's way - were temporary. He was pretty certain that they were both directly attempting to catch Rick's eye. He just wasn't so sure as to do something about it. And even if he was certain, he really didn't know what the fuck he should do. He trusted Rick. He just…wasn't sure. About any of it.

Daryl wasn't stupid. He'd been listening to the things Rick had said to him over the last few weeks from kind words to words of affection. He'd also been listening to the unspoken things like the desire the man showed best with his mouth on Daryl's skin and the terror of losing Daryl that ran deeper than any words he'd said so far. The terror that showed up in the deepest part of the night when Rick would jolt awake and pull Daryl in so tight that the hunter would squirm awake and roll over to pull Rick close instead. A terror that Daryl honestly shared. Losing Rick would gut him, and he was beginning to realize that it wasn't just the separation of death that was making his heart clench and twist about in his chest. Every time Mary Ann leaned a little closer, every time she reached out to push lightly at Rick's arm, playful in whatever she was talking about, Daryl realized that love wasn't a permanent thing. People fell out of love with other people all the time. The thought of Rick finding his desire for that woman was stronger than his love for Daryl…just the thought fractured his heart. And, like right now, he usually sought Rick's touch out when he was feeling that dread, urgent in the moment to have whatever time he could with this wonderful, fragile thing between them before it withered and died in the darkness and bad luck that tended to follow Daryl around like a storm cloud.

Feeling that ache, he reached up, sliding a hand to the back of Rick's neck before he could straighten fully from kissing Judith's forehead. Rick moved easily under Daryl's touch and pressed his forehead to Daryl's with a soft hum. "Mornin'."

"Yeah," Daryl answered his voice barely a whisper.

It amazed him that he'd become so tactile with Rick. Touch had never been something good to him before, but over the last few years, Rick had broken through that conditioning with handshakes and shoulder pats and painless backslaps that never rocked Daryl on his feet like Merle's always had. Now he craved the man's nearness and sought contact with him whenever possible even if it was just the brush of their knees or ankles at dinner.

"I should get goin'," Rick murmured. Tipping his head, he dipped in and brushed a light kiss to Daryl's mouth. Daryl's fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of Rick's neck, and he deepened the kiss just a little before finally letting him go. When Rick drew back, he studied Daryl for a moment. Daryl turned his eyes back to Judith and hoped he could pretend that everything was fine. Rick was surprisingly attuned to Daryl's moods these days. "Maybe we can do lunch. You, me, Carl and Judy."

"Sure," Daryl mumbled, wiggling Judith's hand back and forth with the fingers she'd latched on to. Rick lingered for a moment more and then reached out to squeeze Daryl's shoulder before leaving the room.

Those words came back to him round about midday when Daryl's stomach let out a fierce growl, causing Carl, who was sitting across from him in one of the armories cleaning pistols while Daryl fletched more arrows, to grin and chuckle. "I guess it's lunch time."

Daryl snorted. "Yeah. I'll get yer dad. Go get your sister's lunch t'gether."

Carl nodded and laid the oil cloth and gun bits down before sliding off the stool. As had been his habit since the arrival of the Masons, Daryl shouldered his crossbow and made his way out of the basement after Carl. Stepping off the porch steps, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight and called up to Carol on the cat walk. "Y'seen Rick?"

Carol smiled, wordlessly pointing to the horse barn. Daryl waved his thanks and moved off in that direction. Only one of the main doors was open, leaving the interior of the barn dim enough that it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. As shadows became shapes, Daryl felt the bottom of his stomach drop right out to be replaced with a cold and roiling emotion he wasn't terribly familiar with. Rick looked like he'd taken a break from shoveling sand out of a wheelbarrow and into one of the stalls, leaning back against one of the support pillars. He'd pulled his coat off, leaving him looking trim and attractive in just his plaid button up and white, long sleeve shirt. Apparently, Daryl wasn't the only one who thought so.

Mary Ann was just stepping into Rick's personal space, one dainty foot settling between Rick's well-worn boots, when Daryl had come through the door. Both of her hands lightly landed on Rick's chest before she rub them up, fingers playfully sliding over Rick's collar. Her goal was clear, but she'd miscalculated Rick's reaction. The man was instantly tense, hand flying up to catch at her wrists before she could loop them over the back of his neck and he straightened, using his height to put his mouth out of reach. Daryl had seen all he could stand to see.

The side of his fist hit the open barn door, making a horrible thunking and rattling racket. Mary Ann startled, but didn't step back, only her head whipping around so she could stare at Daryl indicating he'd caught her off guard. It was Rick pushing her back and straightening that dragged actual words out of Daryl's tight throat. "Judy and Carl are hungry. They're waitin' for y' in the kitchen."

"Daryl-"

Turning, the hunter made a bee-line for the gate that lead out of the Homestead, thankful that Jason had given Daryl his dad's copy of the padlock key. If Rick called after him again, he didn't hear it, closing the door behind him and setting off into the wooded area along the wall with the intention of finding himself a good sitting tree. Once he'd found one, he settled on a branch about seven or eight feet off the ground and loaded a bolt.

By the time he'd bagged squirrel number ten, Daryl had straightened himself out. Certainly, he was angry. He was absolutely pissed actually. Pissed like he'd been pissed any time any of Merle's friends had touched his crossbow. Pissed like he'd been pissed when he'd had to watch the Governor beating Rick near to death while Daryl had been unable to make his way to Rick's side. And he was scared. Afraid that Rick really would find he wanted that fucking bitch more than he wanted Daryl. It had been obvious in the man's body language that he wasn't interested in what Mary Ann was offering right then, but…what about further on down the line? When they'd gotten to know each other better.

Glancing around, Daryl noted that the light was fading around him. Ready or not, it was time for him to head back inside the walls. Shouldering his string of squirrels and letting his crossbow rest in both of his hands, Daryl made his way back along the wall until he reached the gate. Once inside, he dutifully locked the padlocks again and then turned only to find Maggie slowing to a stop in front of him.

"Daryl?" she inquired, her tone concerned and curious. "Carol said you stormed outta here like your tail was on fire. What happened? What's with the squirrels?"

Daryl spat in the dirt off to the side and growled with a bit more menace than he'd intended. "I needed sumthin' t' throw at that bitch's head."

"That…?" Maggie's eyes widened and she quickly moved into Daryl's personal space her demeanor going from concerned to really concerned in less than the blink of an eye. "What happened?"

The anger he'd managed to drain away roiled right back up and Daryl felt the infamous Dixon Temper boiling up beneath the surface again. "That brunette bitch. I walk int' the barn an' she's got her paws all over him."

Maggie covered her mouth with one delicate hand and shook her head as if denying it made it less real. "So you went squirrel hunting?"

Turning, too suddenly wound up to stay still, Daryl stomped a few feet away and then spun back on his heel. He really wanted to hit something. "I had t' clear my head," he snapped stomping back in Maggie's direction. He was about to just brush past her, so done with talking about it already, when Maggie reached out and caught at his arms, her fingers digging into the denim of the jacket he wore under his vest.

"Hey. Hey," she murmured. "You have every right to be upset, but what did Rick do?"

Daryl fidgeted and readjusted the weight of the squirrels on his shoulder, looking away. "He was about t' push her off."

Maggie's voice was deadly serious when she asked, "Yer sure?"

Daryl nodded, feeling the anger draining away a bit again with the memory of Rick's look of discomfort and stiffened posture. He hadn't wanted her touching him and that felt good. "Yeah."

"Then, Daryl, you need t' let it go. Rick's not gonna leave you. Not after everything." Maggie patted his chest twice. "Unless you've told them, the Mason's don't know either of you are taken remember?"

"You an' yer voice o' reason bullshit," Daryl mumbled half-jokingly after a moment of contemplating those words. She was right. He just hadn't been capable of thinking about it any way but mad before.

Maggie grinned. "That's what honorary sisters are for. Go clean your squirrels. Rick's been worried sick."

Daryl nodded and this time Maggie let him pass. Feeling ten times the fool, Daryl climbed the steps to the house slowly. He made it all the way to the kitchen before Rick emerged from the den. Daryl dropped the pile of squirrels on the table and stared at them as Rick slowly padded over in his socks.

"Squirrels?" he asked and Daryl managed to force himself to flick a glance in Rick's direction to gauge his reaction better. He looked…confused. Daryl's grip on the back of the chair in front of him tightened until his knuckles were white.

"I need t' clear my head," he admitted. Then went one step further and confessed, "I wanted somethin' t' throw at that bitch's head, too."

Rick moved in closer until Daryl could actually feel the radiant heat of his body now that Daryl was without his protective outer layers. "So…" Rick inquired, his tone light. "You're jus' throwin' squirrels at anybody now?"

It took Daryl about have a second to realize what Rick was saying. He'd almost forgotten that very first day they'd met and how he'd launched an entire weekend's hunt of squirrels at Rick's head when the new arrival had told him about handcuffing Merle to that damned roof. The man had had the reflexes of a cat and ducked, and Shane had been on him in a heartbeat. Rick had wasted no time invading his personal space in the next instant. Kind of like he was right now.

"No," he denied his tone vehement. Rick slipped an arm around Daryl's waist and stepped right into him.

"Good. Cuz I might have had t' change my mind about all o' this alliance business."

Daryl turned, leaning into him. He felt like an idiot, but Rick seemed to be amused by the whole thing. Not angry. "Why's that?"

"I can't have my man gettin' a roving eye because someone else starts pushin' his buttons now can I?" Rick sounded a bit smug. Daryl kinda wanted to hit him. Not hard, but still.

Instead he scoffed. "I hate women. Well, some o' them."

Rick chuckled and actually hugged him, pressing his lips to Daryl's forehead. Daryl closed his eyes and just…savored it.

"God, get a room you guys!" Carl barked, turning and ducking back into the study in an overdramatic flail.

"Won't do no good," Daryl called around Rick's shoulder. "You'd hear us anyway!"

"Ah, Daryl! That's gross!" Carl whined loudly from wherever he was hiding in the den. Rick's chuckle was a warm vibration against Daryl's chest and the hunter slowly looped his arms around Rick's waist.

"How about I help you clean these and then we can have dinner out on the patio?" Rick kissed his temple and then let him go. Daryl sighed and took half a step back, but only just.

After a moment he brought his eyes up to Rick's, tipping his head a bit. "Sure. What's on the menu?"

"Pot roast and vegetables. Beth was pissed you weren't at the dinner table. She worked hard all day and said she couldn't believe you weren't there to eat it."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Women," he grumbled and Rick chuckled again, reaching out to slap Daryl's shoulder.

"You're tellin' me."

TBC…