"I didn't lose my virginity until I was married," Carol said. "I once had a job as a receptionist at a travel agency. And I've never left the state of Georgia."

"That first one," Daryl answered without missing a beat. "That's the lie."

"No, that's true."

"Whaaat?"

She laughed. "Wilhelmina, your voice gets high when you're surprised."

Daryl frowned sternly. "Don't call me that no more."

"I'm sorry. Would you prefer Willie?"

He looked coolly at her.

"How about Pookie then?"

"How old was ya when ya got married?" he asked.

"Twenty-two."

"Damn," he said. "Ed waited for ya?" He had trouble imagining that. The guy beat her, but didn't pressure her to have sex when they were dating?

"He didn't have to wait long. We only dated two months. He asked me to elope. In retrospect, I shouldn't have rushed into marriage like that."

"Why did ya?"

"There were exactly two men who asked me out between my first boyfriend and Ed. They both broke it off when I wouldn't have sex on the second date. Ed didn't. I thought it was true love. I was still living with my father. My mother died when I was eighteen, and my father expected me to take care of him. I cooked his food, cleaned his house, washed his clothes, did his grocery shopping…I had almost no life of my own, and I just wanted out. I somehow imagined it would be better doing all those things for a husband than for my father."

"Shit. Ya lost yer brother when you was seventeen and then yer mother the next year?"

She looked away from him, her troubled blue eyes sweeping the yard. "After Roy died, my mother drank herself to death. Took her a year, but she succeeded."

"My mama got so drunk once, she passed out while smokin'. Set the whole damn house on fire. Burned it to the ground, her in it. That's how she died. I's eight."

"That must have been hard for you."

"Mhmhm. My pa was uh...out. Coroner had to hold the body two nights."

"Where was Merle?" she asked.

"Juvie. Again."

Carol looked away from him, like it was all just too much for her. "So which do you think is the lie?" she asked.

"That ya ain't never left the state of Georgia." Daryl was pretty sure he was the only one among them who was that confined to his roots.

"No, that's true. It's not like Ed ever took me on vacations."

"But ya worked at a travel agency?"

"Yeah. Before we were married. I got to see all those brochures of the places I would never go."

"Plenty to see in Georgia," he told her. He could explore those Georgia forests all his life and never see enough.

She looked him up and down, slowly, suggestively. "There are some sights to behold."

"Stop it." He lowered his head, but then he peered up at her and said, "Ya know, if we was in an office, I could sue you for sexual harassment."

"Daryl, sexual harassment involves unwanted attention." She bumped his shoulder with hers and smiled. "And you know you want it."

He chewed on his bottom lip and studied her. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Shoot."

He looked down at his gun in his hands.

"I didn't mean shoot literally, of course," she said.

He smiled. But he kept looking at his gun. "Why do ya do that? All the…the things ya say?" He tilted his head up slightly to see her response. It wasn't enough to hear it.

"What things?"

"Ya know."

"Flirty things?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She sighed. "You know, I was so inexperienced when I married Ed. And once we were married, he never let me talk to a man, let alone flirt with one. He'd get upset anytime I was nice to a guy. So on the one hand, now that I've got all this freedom, I just want to use it. I'm like a kid in a candy store, knowing I can say anything I want and no one will get angry at me or threaten me over it. On the other hand, I'm so inexperienced. I have no idea how adults flirt. So I guess…I'm practicing on you."

"Practicin'?"

"Yeah." She slid her gun off her shoulder and turned it in her hands. "The same way I've been practicing with knives and guns."

Daryl swallowed. She'd gotten pretty deadly with the knives and guns. Where did that mean this flirting was going to go? "I ain't the best guy to practice on."

She shouldered her gun again. "Actually, you're the perfect guy to practice on. I can't go wrong. I get the same reaction every time. A wince."

He smiled lightly. "Ya might be damn good at it for all I know," he said. "I just ain't got any practice neither. Less'n ya. How ya gonna know what works and what don't if ya practice on me?"

"Well, I don't think it's about knowing what works right now. It's just about becoming more comfortable with the tool. About building my confidence. Like when you made me do all that dry firing before you had me start shooting real bullets."

"Hmmm." He shouldered his gun, walked up to the rail, and leaned on it. She leaned next to him. They looked out over the prison yard together. A thought occurred to him, and it made him feel that tense readiness his muscles got right before a fist fight, but he didn't know why, because he wasn't in a barroom right now, making sure he had Merle's back. "Who ya practicin' for?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Anyone."

He narrowed his eyes. Couldn't be Axel. He was dead. Couldn't be Rick. He'd hadn't lost his wife all that long ago. Couldn't be Glenn. He was Maggie's. "One of the refugees from Woodbury?" Daryl tried to think of all the single men in that group.

She shook her head. "There's no one in particular. I just want to be ready." She smiled teasingly. "In case I meet a guy."

"What kind of guy?" he asked.

"Oh, I don't know. He'd have to be masculine and muscular and competent. He'd have to know how to hunt and shoot and kill and look good on a motorcycle and do all of that manly stuff. But he'd also have to be caring. Good with babies. Humble. Willing to let others take the limelight. Considerate of my feelings."

"Pffft. Y'all get silly ideas from yer dang romance novels. That's a female fantasy. Ain't no such guy in the world."

She smiled, like she was laughing at her own private joke. He didn't understand that smile. He didn't understand half her smiles. But he loved them all. "It's getting colder," she said. "Maybe we should go inside the booth."

"Ya go on," Daryl told her. "Warm up."

"Why don't you warm me up?"

"Pffft...stop it." Those moths were fluttering in his stomach again. And even though he knew she didn't mean it, knew she was just practicing, he couldn't help but smile. Her eyes were so damn pretty when they twinkled like that. "Ya go on. Wanna breathe a little more fresh air."

She nodded, and when she walked past him toward the booth, she trailed her hand lightly across his shoulders.

The warmth of her touch lingered for a long time.

THE END

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little piece. Please comment! I'd love to know what you think. And stay tuned for a follow-up story called "Truth or Dare" next.