Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or storylines from The Walking Dead. Everything from The Walking Dead belongs to the creators of the show and the comics.

Author's Note: Takes place between Seasons 2 and 3.

Paper Walls

"Oh my God," Carol moaned as she collapsed onto a large bed in a room that had an actual, honest-to-God fire place in it. For the first time in weeks, she was going to sleep on a real bed in a real house. They'd just spent three weeks holed up in some filthy storage units, waiting for the winter freeze to pass. Now, they were on the move again, and they'd come across a big house out along the old highway. It had several bedrooms and lots of places for people to lie down and sleep. It wasn't perfect, but it was as close to perfect as they would ever see again, she was pretty sure.

Everyone had taken turns picking out places to stay. Carol got first pick, the group had decided, because she was the one who had successfully hunted and caught breakfast that morning. Daryl's teachings were rubbing off on her.

Lori, Rick and Carl were all sharing the furnished basement. Despite the fact that the temperature of Lori and Rick's marriage seemed to be as cold as the wind outside, they could at least contain their family problems below ground for one night.

Maggie and Glenn had the room next door, and Carol had almost considered switching rooms with T-Dog when she learned who would be her neighbors. She figured she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight. Any time Maggie and Glenn got behind closed doors, especially if there was a bed, there was a good chance that they'd be keeping people up all night with their moans and creaking springs.

Carol waited for the inevitable knock. She knew it was only a matter of minutes before he came. He always ended up close to her, and she liked that. It was like an unspoken agreement that he would stay close. He always said he wanted to be nearby in case she needed him, but if you asked Carol, she honestly was beginning to think that he wanted to be nearby for his own sake, not just hers. Of course, she'd never tell him this, because she didn't want to scare him away.

And then it came. The knock. She smiled a little, and without looking up, she spoke.

"It's open." The doorknob squeaked when he turned it, and she heard those boots on the floorboards. She opened one eye, lifted her head and saw him walk in, his crossbow in one hand, his pack in the other.

"T-Dog's bed's pretty small, and Hershel's bunkin' with Beth tonight." There it was. The excuse. She smiled and motioned him over to the bed with her hand.

"There's room enough for both of us."

"I can sleep on the floor," Daryl offered.

"No you won't. It's not every day we get an actual bed to sleep in. I'm not making you sleep on the floor. Besides, it's cold, and these blankets are amazing." She stroked the fabric of the comforter. "Don't worry. I won't bite." She saw the blush fill his cheeks, and her heart fluttered in her chest.

"Stop," he muttered in his usual response to her teasings. She just grinned at him and closed her eyes, relaxing against the pillow. He sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed, watching her stretch cat-like across the mattress.

"I think I could sleep for three days straight," she whispered sleepily.

"You and me both," he agreed. "'Course, Rick will want us movin' on soon."

"Maybe not. This place is nice. Maybe we can stay a few days. Maybe a week."

"Maybe," Daryl murmured. He noticed Carol shivering and got up from the bed. "Be right back." Carol nodded tiredly and rolled onto her stomach, letting the pull of sleep wash over her.

She was just beginning to drift off when Daryl returned with an arm full of wood. He placed them in the fire and set about making a fire. Before long, a warm glow filled the room, and Carol curled up under the blankets, pulling them up around her shoulders. He smirked at the sight of her cocooned up, only her head sticking out.

"You still cold?"

"Get in here," she laughed. "You men are all furnaces, you know. We freeze and you just put off heat." Daryl looked at the bed nervously as Carol pulled back the blankets for him to get under them. He stood there for a moment, before Carol's chattering teeth broke the silence. "Come on, I'm freezing. Warm me up." She meant it to sound teasing, but it came out more seductive, but she was too cold to care.

Daryl kicked off his boots and slipped under the covers, and Carol felt much warmer already. She turned to face the wall, and Daryl lay there facing her back, wondering if it would be entirely inappropriate to curl up against her. He wasn't that cold, but he thought it might feel nice anyway.

Before he had the chance to think twice on it, Carol reached behind herself and grabbed his hand.

"Can you…can you scoot closer?"

"Like this?" He was spooning her now, his groin pressed against her ass. She shivered and nodded. Entirely uncertain of what to do with his hands, he gently placed them on her hips, hoping it was ok. She sighed under his touch and closed her eyes. Within a moment, he was scooting closer, pressing his face into the back of her neck. She shivered again, this time for a whole other reason.

"Can you…can you put your arms around me?" Dear Jesus, did I just say that? But it was too late. The words were out. "You're so warm." Daryl complied, wrapping his arms around her waist, feeling the warmth of her belly against his arms. She was soft in all the right places, well-muscled, a bit on the thin side. But she felt amazing in his arms.

They lay like that for a long while, and when he felt the rise and fall of her chest steady, he knew she was sleeping. He wondered how the hell she could sleep with somebody pressed up against her like that, because sleep was the last thing on his mind. However, he was trying not to think about the things that were on his mind, considering the position they were laying in would make it extremely obvious if his body were to even slightly respond to those thoughts.

He just closed his eyes and willed himself to not think about her lithe frame curled up in front of his. And it worked for a while. He began to drift off. Somewhere during the start of a very interesting dream involving him and Carol in a position similar to the one they were in but doing things that were certainly not sleeping, he heard a noise. It was just a knock.

He jolted awake, careful not to move too much to wake Carol. He wondered how long he'd been out and what time it was, but judging from the roar of the fire, he figured it hadn't been long, or else the fire would be low.

The knock came again, followed by a stifled giggle. What the hell? Another knock. And another. It was then that he inwardly groaned. It was the sound of Maggie and Glenn knocking the bed frame into the wall. They were screwing around, and most nights he would be amused by their antics, but tonight, it just pissed him off. He had half a mind to bang on the wall and tell them to shut the fuck up, but he didn't want to wake Carol. She was sleeping better than she had in weeks, and he should know. He tended to watch her sleep when he couldn't.

A few minutes passed, and Maggie was moaning, and while it pissed him off, he realized that he was starting to feel that familiar burn in his belly; the one he always seemed to get before….oh shit. He scooted back a little, hoping Carol wouldn't feel that he was getting hard. It wasn't the idea of Maggie making him that way. It was the fact that he was pressed up against Carol, certain thoughts crossing his mind, and now somebody was getting fucked four ways from Sunday just on the other side of the wall.

Maggie's moans grew louder, and Glenn was groaning now. The headboard made a steady thump thump thump into the wall, and Daryl could actually hear the windowpanes rattling. It was then that he felt Carol's shoulders shaking. She was laughing. Daryl made a mental note to beat the hell out of Glenn in the morning.

"What is he doing to her?" she finally asked, her voice low but filled with laughter.

"Sounds like two weasels goin' at it," Daryl mumbled. Carol snorted and let out a peal of laughter.

"Weasels make noise when they…"

"Fuck, I don't know," he replied, his shoulders shaking when Carol leaned back against his chest, unable to control her laughter. He couldn't help it. He laughed too. It was a pretty ridiculous situation. Here they all were, just trying not to freeze to death while avoiding the walking dead outside, and Maggie and Glenn were in their own little world, screwing each other's brains out without any care to who might be listening.

"I think he's killing her," Carol snorted, getting another laugh out of Daryl.

"Didn't think he had it in him," Daryl joked. "He's such a little guy. I kinda thought she'd be the one on top."

"Maybe she is," Carol laughed. "Maybe she just really likes to be on top." Daryl held her close, trying not to press his erection into her backside. But she was wiggling around too damned much with that laughing, and it just made it worse. "I'm kind of jealous."

"Jealous of them?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug. "Must be nice to have a distraction when things are so bad." She shrugged, and Daryl suddenly felt his heart start pounding.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Must be." They were still a few minutes more, and finally, Carol turned in his arms to face him. He held his breath, uncertain of what she was doing but happy just to see her face. Her eyes were focused on his, and when Maggie cried out as if somebody was eating her alive—which Glenn very well might have been doing from the sounds of it—she laughed again. He watched the way her nose crinkled and her eyes welled up when she laughed. It brought a smile to his face, and his attention fell to her lips, which he'd wanted to kiss for so long, but never as badly as right now.

"Fuck me, Glenn," Maggie's voice carried through the paper thin walls, and Carol couldn't control herself any longer. Her laugh was louder than Maggie's cries, but that didn't seem to deter the lovers in the next room. In fact, they seemed to be getting louder, and it was all too much for Daryl. He groaned when Carol shifted in the bed, her arm brushing over his thigh just enough that she felt him hard in his pants. The laughter stopped, Daryl stiffened, and they just looked at each other.

Daryl was the one that drew her in. He pulled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, his lips just a breath away from hers. He watched her close her eyes and lean into him. Jesus, she wants this. He gently chucked her chin, tilting her face towards his. The nerves that coiled around like a snake in his belly started to fizzle away when her hand stroked his arm.

Finally, he gathered up the courage and just did it. He leaned in, crushing his lips against hers, pulling her close, his heart pounding as fast as his mind was racing.

She melted into him, her hands moving up his neck and into his hair as he pulled her on top of him, holding her so tightly he worried for a moment he might be hurting her, but when she responded to his kisses by opening up to him, he relaxed against the bed, relishing the feel of her warm body pressed against his.

He wasn't entirely sure how far she wanted to go, but when her hand came between them and cupped his erection, he was pretty fucking sure this was going somewhere pretty damned good.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips bucking at the sudden contact of her hand against him. She moaned into his mouth, and he ran his hands over her ass. She pulled back a second, straddling his hips, panting heavily, her lips swollen from their kisses, her eyes dark with desire. "Carol?"

"Shh," she murmured, pressing her fingertip to his lips. "Touch me." Well, damn. His hands were on her waist, and she lifted her arms so he could help her off with her shirt. He feasted on her beauty, seeing the flicker of red tint her cheeks when she removed her bra with a quick flick of her fingers behind her back. His hands traveled up her sides, and her muscles jumped at this new feeling of him loving her. She closed her eyes when his hands stroked her breasts, flicking his fingers over her nipples.

"Hey," he murmured gruffly, "look at me." She opened her eyes and looked down at him. "You're beautiful." She smiled that warm, sweet Carol smile, and he pulled her back down so he could kiss her again. How had he not been kissing her before this? Jesus, what a waste.

Her hands were on his shirt now, tugging. He arched up so she could pull the shirt free from him, and she tossed it away, her hands immediately moving to stroke his chest and his stomach. He groaned when he pulled her close and felt her breasts against his chest, her hard nipples grazing his chest hair and driving both of them crazy.

At that moment, Maggie cried out next door, and Carol looked down at Daryl with a gleam in her eye.

"Wanna give 'em somethin' to talk about?" she teased, working at his belt buckle, loosening it so she could undo his pants. His hands were on her jeans, undoing the zipper and button.

"Who cares what they say anyway?" he growled, leaning up to take one of her nipples in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth and drawing a cry from the back of her throat. Carol shimmied off of him just long enough to help him out of his pants. She was pleasantly surprised to find he wasn't wearing underwear. She looked at him, and he shrugged a shoulder, smirking sheepishly. "Got holes in all of mine." She grinned and kept her eyes on him as she stepped out of her own pants, revealing a pretty tattered pair of underwear herself. "C'mere." He held his hand out, pulling her back down on the bed.

She lay down, her body trembling as he crawled over her, erection bobbing at his belly. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but he raised her arms up above her head, placing her hands around the rails of the headboard. She moaned when he kissed his way down her body, taking his time when he got to her breasts and then at her belly and the skin between her belly button and her pelvis. She squirmed under his kisses, her hips rising as if to tell him where to redirect his attention. He placed his hand on her stomach, easing her hips back down on the bed. He locked his gaze with hers and began to slide her panties down her legs.

He took in the sight of her naked before him on the bed, and for a few moments, he simply tried to memorize those places he'd never seen, remember the way her body responded when he touched her skin, the way she bit her lip when he looked at her the way he was looking at her now.

He lowered himself over her, and she spread her legs. He gently gripped her thigh, helping her hook her ankle around his hip. He pushed at her entrance, feeling her already hot and wet and ready for him, and he knew that if he didn't give himself a moment, the shock of her might send him over the edge before they even got started.

She groaned, lifting her hips as his tip prodded her folds. He grabbed hold of his dick and guided himself slowly inside of her, feeling her stretch around him, a white hot heat enveloping and dizzying him.

Carol arched her back, her hands white-knuckling the headboard rails as Daryl slid himself inside of her. She felt herself being stretched in just the right way, and she gasped, her heart thudding clumsily in her chest.

"Oh my God," she gasped. Daryl quieted her with a searing kiss, and he began to move inside of her, slowly at first, getting accustomed to the feel of her so tight around him. "Oh shit." The string of expletives and cries that followed were enough to make him come right then, but he held on, pushing into her and pulling almost all the way out before slamming into her again. "Yes. Daryl, right there!" He had angled in just the right way, and he made a mental note that if—no—when they were together again, he'd know exactly where to get her crying those high notes.

She clenched around him, and he felt like his brain exploded. He collapsed on top of her, struggling to keep going, but she caressed the back of his neck.

"Can we try something?" she panted, feeling a little adventurous. In that moment, with his dick buried deep inside her, he'd probably have agreed to anything, even dancing around wearing nothing but her panties if she wanted. Right there, when he was inside her, he was all hers. He'd do whatever she wanted, no complaints.

He grunted when she stroked his ass, and he pulled out of her, his dick throbbing, aching to come. She turned in the bed, getting up on her knees and facing the headboard. She gripped the headboard rails, spread her legs and peered over her shoulder.

"You coming?"

"Jesus Christ, woman," he growled, moving up behind her in the bed, grabbing her a bit roughly around the waist. "You're fulla surprises."

"Fuck me!" Maggie cried from the next room, and Carol bit bag a grin before whispering over her shoulder.

"What she said," she murmured. Daryl's mouth enclosed over her earlobe, and he pressed into her from behind. With one hand on his dick, he found her dripping entrance and lined up before bucking upward, filling her completely once again. She groaned, arching back and turning her head to capture his mouth with her own. His hands grasped her breasts as she held onto the headboard, and he found a pace they both seemed to love. She moaned as the angle found her most sensitive nerves inside, and her blood seemed to sizzle and spark.

"Oh fuck," she cried out, gasping and spreading her legs wider. One of his hands moved to her throat as he sucked on her ear, and the other moved down her stomach and over the soft curls between her legs. He dipped two fingers between her folds, circling her clit with fervor.

She was whimpering now, her fingers clamped so hard around the headboard rails that the entire bed was shaking. She let go with one hand and put her hand down against his, her hand moving with his as he stroked her, and she cried out, her body trembling as she rode out her orgasm. He grunted, his body shaking at the feeling of her muscles clamping down on him, and he knew it was just a matter of moments before he let go, but he wanted to hold on for her.

"Carol…I'm gonna…aw, fuck." His balls tightened, and Carol moved her hand away from his and instead curled that arm behind his neck, capturing his mouth again, crying out against his lips.

He thrust twice more before spilling himself into her. She bent forward, gasping for breath, and he slumped over her bare back, kissing the back of her neck lazily. They fell, her against the mattress, him on top of her, and he rolled off of her, laying on his back. She lay on her stomach and turned her head to look at him. When their eyes met, they watched one another, both glistening with sweat, both fighting for breath.

Silence filled the room and the room on the other side of the wall. Carol felt that blush creeping back to her cheeks when she played back the last few minutes in her head.

"Y'alright?" Daryl asked after a few minutes. She nodded, rolling onto her side to face him.

"You?"

"Good." Carol snickered, and he smirked at her. "What?"

"Just good, Daryl Dixon?" she teased. He eyed her and reached over, pulling his arm around her shoulders.

"Gettin' better every second." She giggled and snuggled up against his chest, closing her eyes. He pulled the covers that had been shrugged off to the end of the bed back over them, and he sighed, listening to the silence in the house, listening to the sound of her breathing against his chest. He closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him, feeling warm and safe, and for the first time in a very long time, ready for absolutely anything as long as she was at his side.

When Daryl and Carol woke wrapped in each other's arms in the morning, they lay there, talking about everything and nothing quietly, sharing kisses and caresses and simply enjoying each other's company. Carol was the first to get out of bed and get dressed. She slipped out of the room before him. The last thing either of them wanted this morning was everyone staring at them as they came down for breakfast together, smelling, and looking like they'd been having sex all night.

Carol was the first down the stairs. Everybody was already downstairs, with the except of Daryl, Glenn and Maggie. Nobody seemed to look at her strangely. Instead, they all greeted her with their various good mornings, like always, and T-Dog passed her a box of dry, stale cereal. She relaxed a little and only tensed again when she heard footsteps enter the room.

Daryl came walking in, dressed, his hair only slightly messy, and his crossbow was slung over his shoulder.

"Mornin' Daryl," Hershel said with a little nod. "Sleep alright?" Daryl tried so damn hard not to look at Carol, but he ended up catching her gaze anyway, and he was pretty sure his face was red. But he played it off as he sat down right next to Carol, his hand brushing her knee under the table.

"You ever try sleepin' next to your daughter and Glenn?" He smirked when he saw the horror on the old man's face. Beth stifled a shocked giggle, and Hershel shook his head.

"They're young and in love, but just so you know, you didn't have to remind me of what I was tryin' to forget," the older man said sternly. Carl busted out laughing only to get nudged in the shoulder by his father.

"Mornin' everybody," Maggie said cheerfully, walking hand-in-hand into the room with Glenn. Everybody stopped and glared at the happy couple, while Daryl and Carol caught each other's gazes. Carol looked at Maggie and then at Glenn, who looked both looked over at her knowingly. Maggie's cheeks flushed, and Glenn rubbed the back of his neck, an awkward smile pulling at his lips when he caught Daryl's shut-the-fuck-up glare.

"Mornin'," came the various mumbles from other group members.

"How'd everybody sleep?" Glenn asked, only to have a towel chucked at him by T-Dog. Everybody burst out laughing, and Glenn and Maggie both blushed accordingly. Carol and Daryl only looked at each other, and Daryl nodded as if in silent agreement that maybe sleeping so close to Maggie and Glenn's room might just have its advantages.

FIN