Dry mouth, sticky in the corners. Chilly damp cloth under his hand. His other arm was asleep, pinned down under something, but most of him was warm and comfortable, except for some irritating feathery thing that kept tickling his nose. He tried to turn over and free his arm, but then the warmth blanketing that side of him moved and made a little grumbling noise, and it all came back to him in a rush.

Carol. He opened one eye and turned his head a few inches, her hair brushing his upper lip. Sometime during the night she'd instinctively homed in on his body heat, and now she was half wrapped around him, her arm draped across his chest and one leg hiked up over his thigh, her head cradled against his shoulder. No way he was going to be able to disentangle himself without waking her, and she looked so peaceful in the gray light he didn't have the heart.

For all the time he'd spent looking at her, watching out for her, just watching her as she went about her day, he'd only held her this close and still once before, and that time he'd been purely terrified that he'd found her alive only by chance and she could yet slip away from him. By the time he'd been able to relax, knowing she was only dehydrated and exhausted, he'd had to give her up to the attentions of the others, when all he'd wanted to do was crawl into that bunk with her and hold her tight.

From this angle, all he could see was the plane of her nose, a cheek, the corner of her mouth... and below, a stretch of silky skin sprayed with dusky freckles, descending into the shadow of her cleavage. At least he assumed it would feel like silk under his fingertips. At that moment he thought he'd give everything he ever owned or dreamed of owning for the right to find out.

The bed was mounded with down pillows, a luxurious oasis of comfort, and Daryl stood at the window looking out, with a breeze blowing the curtains around a crystal vase that held cascades of lilies. She could feel the nip of cool air on the back of her neck, but otherwise she was warm and reluctant to emerge from under the covers to go see what held his attention. She tucked her head down against a leather bolster and breathed in the musky scent of…

Oh, god. Carol struggled up from the dream, recognizing the firm warmth of his chest under her hand and his heartbeat against her cheek, and she lurched upright, dragging herself from where she'd been sprawled over him, the blanket sliding from around her shoulders.

"Hey, easy. You're okay." Daryl eased his arm back from where it had lain under her, rubbing it to get the blood moving again. "Bad dream?"

She closed her eyes, shaking her head to deny it, still half-caught in the vision where he'd slipped out of bed and padded across an imaginary room clad in nothing but skin. "I'm sorry. I must have…"

"Don't apologize," he said roughly. "Best sleep I've had in months."

"Me, too," she agreed, softly, ruefully. "Aren't we a sad pair?" A ghost of the night before skimmed through Carol's mind, and she bowed her head to her knees, hiding her face, desperate to recall how badly she might have mis-stepped with him. He didn't automatically shy away when she touched him these days, but she suspected she'd crossed an invisible line the night before, and she dreaded to think how far her behavior might have set them back in the cautious dance they'd been conducting.

A warm hand fitted itself to the small of her back. "Not that. A little beat-up, maybe." His thumb made a hesitant pass across the groove of her spine, and she froze as a shiver rippled through her. "Carol? You gonna look at me?"

"I don't think so, Daryl," she admitted. "You were right. Last night… it was a bad idea."

"And here I was thinkin' just the opposite." The tip of a finger dipped under her shirttail and traced the skin above her waistband, so delicately she could almost convince herself she was imagining it. "Or was it just the dope talking when you said you wanted me to kiss you?"

"Oh, god," Carol groaned. "I'm so embarrassed." Her hands were shaking, and she locked them together in front of her before she did something she couldn't take back.

His fingers slid around her waist and tugged at her. "C'mere. Lie back for a bit. It's just now dawn. We got some time."

It was the easiest choice she ever made. Like her body didn't care about bad decisions or possible regrets. She slid down into his warmth and let him cradle her against his side, keeping her eyes down, not daring to read his face for clues as to what this was - comfort, or something more.

Daryl's arm draped loosely around her shoulders, and his calloused hand smoothed lightly down to her elbow, leaving eddies of gooseflesh in its wake. "Never spent a whole night with a woman before, y'know. Wakin' up with you - it's good. Like somethin' I could get used to."

He turned toward her, bringing his other hand up to catch her chin. "What you said last night? I should've," he said quietly. "I would've, if you hadn't drifted off." His narrowed eyes studied hers, looking for an answer, and somehow there wasn't enough air in her lungs to let her respond.

"Better tell me right now if you still want this, 'cause I mean to do somethin' about it, 'fore the day gets any older."

Carol nodded dumbly, craving it more than anything before in her life. Her unsteady hand crept out and fastened itself in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as his head dipped and his lips found hers, softly molding together like they'd belonged there all along. She felt his mouth turn up in a small smile as he explored her, his arms drawing her even closer, and he let his lips trail off the corner of her mouth and down under her ear, nuzzling into her neck with a satisfied chuckle.

"Sweet," he breathed. "I knew you'd be." He planted a kiss in the hollow of her throat and skimmed his tongue up the column of her neck, returning to her mouth with heat this time, and Carol let herself drown in every dizzying sensation - his hands holding her and stroking her skin, his tongue darting between her lips, his husky voice murmuring praise and description, and all the while in her head a voice was rejoicing, finally, finally.

At some point she found herself lying on top of him, his hands kneading her bottom as she familiarized herself with every bit of his mouth, and she drew back and looked down into his craggy, beloved face, marveling at the distance they'd come.

One of his hands came up and tangled in her hair, pulling her down to his mouth again for just a moment before he said, "Think this is the point where we'd be takin' things further, but I ain't young enough to be rollin' around on the rooftop much longer. Besides, I plan on takin' my time, and there'll be folks lookin' for us by now."

Carol sighed and nodded, letting her head fall to his shoulder, and Daryl wrapped his arms around her again for a few seconds before he patted her on the back and said, "Lemme up. I'll go down first," and he paused and raised a warning eyebrow at her as a wicked grin crossed her face, "make sure the coast is clear. Unless you don't care…?"

"I don't, really," Carol said, rising and dusting off her clothes. "Let them talk - you know they're going to anyway."

"Well, c'mon, then," he said, taking her hand. "Time to go face the day."