AN: Thank you so much for all your support. It's been incredibly powerful at shifting my almost dead muse!

Chapter Three

Daryl reached wakefulness gently, like he'd drifted in on undulating waves from the ocean. It was an odd sensation—most mornings nowadays started with a jerk, the urgency in them to check for danger far superior even to dragging themselves off for a morning piss. The sun was filtered as it lightened the room through a lacy curtain, bathing his surroundings in soft sunshine that was pleasing rather than painful. He'd known even before he'd opened his eyes that Carol was gone and he was sad about it for a minute until he heard the soothing burr of voices flowing up from downstairs. She'd left the door open, probably so he'd know where she was without having to even get out of bed and the comfort of that consideration touched him like everything else Carol did for him.

He stretched out, tweaking his muscles into action as he arched in the bed to the backdrop of what sounded like one of those TV sitcom breakfasts going on downstairs. Other than the murmur of Carol's voice and who he suspected was most likely Sam, the house was quiet. It felt deserted to him, and Daryl found that he liked that sense of aloneness, that the house might belong to him and Carol and nobody else. That what went on within the walls of the house was theirs. Their family, their memories. It was an unfamiliar situation, one that might have twisted him in knots a year ago but which now didn't feel half so frightening as it could have done. He rolled over, rubbing his face on Carol's pillow and just listened.

Her voice rose and fell, and the boy sometimes laughed, like it was a surprise to him that he knew how. He could see Carol smiling against her will in his own head and it made Daryl hide a smile in her pillow, the innocence of it all somehow liberating.

A short while later he heard her coming up the stairs, quick short steps like she was eager for him to join them. Daryl dived into her pillow, feigning sleep and he couldn't even explain why, only that he'd started out his morning like none other that he'd remembered and he sensed an atmosphere of playfulness that he naturally bought into without even a thought.

Carol seemed to pause before she entered the room and Daryl second-guessed himself. It wasn't until the air cooled on his suddenly exposed back that he thought this wasn't such a good idea, but before he could do anything to show he was awake, Carol was hesitantly finding a space on the bed beside him, her gentle touch tracing the jagged lines of wounded skin that he'd spent a lifetime trying to hide. She didn't linger, didn't set out to make him feel uncomfortable but rather loved and he felt it soothe away some of the pain of his past. She fluttered her fingers across the delicate flesh over his ribs, tickling him awake and then she curled into his back, her warm breath hitting him between the shoulder blades as she hugged him tight.

"We have a visitor for breakfast." Her lips moved against his flesh and he trembled. He rolled a little to his side, just enough for her to lay next to him on her own side of the bed and she smiled at him, an indulgent, dreamy expression he'd not seen on her before. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

He flushed at her teasing, even as she shuffled a little closer to him and kissed him on the tip of his nose. He reached for her hand, concentrated on the sensory pleasure of threading his fingers through hers and couldn't stop the ball of happy that welled up in his chest. Nothing could end it, not even the worst memories of his life. To prove it, he took the risk, something bordering on euphoria building up inside him as she proved once again how in tune she was with him and how she'd play along and come out smiling, no matter how he tested their connection.

"They still there?" He shifted as if to look over his shoulder, indicating his chequered life patterning his back, still on fire from her loving touch.

"I'm glad they are," she revealed with confidence, dipping in to place her lips softly against his. "If they weren't I'd be wondering what strange man happened to end up in my bed."

He huffed out a laugh, the sound a compulsive release of happiness and then he tackled her to the bed, his body sliding into place to partially cover hers as he pressed her for a more lingering kiss. He was addicted to her taste, to her openness every time she shared herself with him and Daryl was on the brink of his head exploding trying to deal with how much more they still had yet to explore.

"Yeah?" His voice hadn't shed sleep properly yet and it came out as a growl. He didn't miss the shimmy of her body against his as she reacted to it. "That sounds like a challenge. Maybe I should move in so there ain't no room for no one else in your bed."

He was a little stunned at himself for being so forward, not even knowing for sure if he was serious or just teasing, but when Carol grinned and peered up at him like he'd just handed her sunshine and rainbows, he relaxed.

"No point using two rooms when we don't need to." Her eyes sparkled with a level of joy he was slowly getting used to as it seeped through the protective walls he'd built around his own heart and nudged him to catch up.

"Better hurry up then. I seen the way that big guy's been watching you."

She pouted and hot damn it melted him into a puddle of uselessness. It made his dick twitch a little, too.

"What guy? I don't know what you're talking about." The challenging smirk told him she knew exactly what he was talking about but she was happy to yank his chain and see how far he'd follow before he yanked hard back. Of course she knew; she was the one that told him all about Tobin's offer to teach her to shoot, ending the tale with a delighted giggle that had warned him if he was going to make his move, he was almost running out of time.

"Hmmm, yeah you do." He kissed her to shut her up, already hearing in his head the long tease that would do nothing but raise his blood pressure and maybe push him a little toward insecurity. Right now he was confident how she felt about him. He didn't want to hear about some other guy, even if it was a light attempt to make him jealous. He'd made his choice and he was there now for the long haul. He was going to be there, with her, for life. For as long as they had in this unpredictable world. He was hers, they just had to work out what to do next.

She was breathless when he was done, and he smirked before dropping his head into her shoulder to hide how fucking ecstatic he was that he could do that to her. He felt amazing, like a king…until his tummy growled and vibrated into hers.

Carol snorted, jerked her body beneath his until he fell between the suddenly open vee of her legs. It felt good, too good as he grew hard against her pubic bone. "How about you move in after breakfast, Loverboy?"

He propped his head up on an elbow, going for casually confident as he swept a hungry gaze as far down her body as he could. There were signs he couldn't ignore that she was a boldly interested in his perusal—the little upward push of her chest to get his attention, the hand that combed through his hair. The burgeoning heat between her legs that was one step from incinerating his dick. The rapid pulse in her throat pupils so dilated he wondered if he'd ever see the clear ocean blue of her eyes again.

"Breakfast is looking mighty tempting," he gasped out as Carol tried to kill him by grinding up against his dick. He collapsed against her, hard, holding her so tight he hoped the pain would deflect from the sweeter pain in his groin.

"You haven't seen anything yet," she promised huskily and Daryl was pretty sure once he did see things there'd be nothing to stop him losing his shit on the spot. He was relatively certain there'd be no gentleman in him once he got her naked, once he got to see with his own two eyes all the secret parts that made up her. "I made pancakes. Sam is downstairs demolishing your share right now. I'll probably have to make another batch."

Daryl was compelled to hoist himself up to look at her, watching her with a complete lack of comprehension. How did they go from him plotting ways to get her naked to talk of pancakes? The rest of the sentence started to form with meaning in his head and he remembered the kid from last night and jumped up off her and then rolled off the bed, getting away from temptation while he had the smarts to do it.

She was off the bed and in front of him before he'd quite worked out what to do first. He needed to piss, and he needed to try and stop the flaming heat from taking over his face. He'd been about to strip her naked when they were the only responsible adults in the house, a kid that wasn't even theirs waiting downstairs to finish off breakfast. Guilt was heavy as his shoulders dipped and he tried to decide whether to run to his room or apologise. She took the decision out of his hands when she stepped into his personal space, warm palms spreading across his chest. Her thumbs rolled against his nipples and he was about to curse her for making his dick remember why it'd been so responsive earlier.

"Hey," she soothed, bringing his attention to her as he wavered on the running option. He looked around her room, desperate for a shirt until her fingers swept up over his flesh, up his neck to curve against his cheeks. In one bold move she reigned in his skittish tendencies and held his total attention. "We didn't do anything, Daryl. It's okay, even if Sam had come up here and seen something."

He wasn't sure he believed her. He'd seen more porn than he could remember from a very early age, was exposed to the wrong kind of family dynamic to the point where even he worked out it wasn't normal—or at least he'd worked it out after mentioning to a kid at school what his daddy did to his momma and he'd ended up in detention. He was moving away from her, filled with remorse and fear that he'd slip so easily into that kind of depravity when he felt her lips on his. They weren't soft, biting his lip sharply to bring him right back to her.

"Daryl, loving each other isn't wrong. We both still have our clothes on, and it won't kill a kid to see adults showing each other some healthy affection. We. Didn't. Do. Anything."

He cracked at her surety, trusting in her, allowing the happiness of being with her to filter back through his shitty memories to squash them out. When he'd breathed through it—deep centring breaths he'd learned long ago helped him find a place of Zen—he found some of the cheeky confidence returned.

"Nah, didn't do nothin'," he agreed, then let his hands fall to her ass as he gave her a quick, suggestive squeeze. "Not yet anyways."

Her hands covered his, keeping them flat against her ass cheeks as she peered at him through battered lashes and pouty lips. "So sad you're all talk."

His jaw dropped. He narrowed his eyes at her before clutching those glorious globes of her ass and hauled her closer. It didn't even cross his mind to be embarrassed that he was effectively rubbing his dick between her legs. It was hard to think of anything beyond how good it felt to be this close to her, how good he'd feel to be closer. She lifted her arms around his neck, watching him with heat as he swept his hand down her thigh and helped arrange her leg across his hip, bending his knees to find the perfect position to rub…just…there.

"Uahh…guhh." His lips found hers and he forgot about open doors and kids packing away stacks of pancakes downstairs, his body going on auto-pilot. He found flesh beneath the shirt he managed to dig out from the waistband of her soccer mom slacks and somewhere in his brain there was a war of thoughts going on—of how smooth her skin was as he slowly explored his way across her ribs to cup a breast and the miracle of being able to make her limbs so pliable in the ridiculous outfit she'd decided she had to wear.

The quiet knock on the bedroom door split them apart like a gunshot. Daryl thrust away from Carol so suddenly that she lost her balance and fell onto the bed amidst a riot of guffaws. Sam didn't seem to mind what he'd walked in on at all, a huge smile breaking across his face as he watched Carol transform from the stern woman he'd known so far into a cackling crazy woman on the bed. Daryl watched the process with awe.

"Miss Carol?"

Daryl blinked, watching Carol try to sober herself as she straightened her clothes and attempted to be the responsible adult.

"Let me guess. You're ready for more pancakes?" she asked innocently and Daryl sniggered as he turned toward the bathroom.

"You go ahead," Daryl tossed across his shoulder. "I'll be down in a few." He opened the door, almost inside when Carol knocked the breath from his lungs with promises he knew she didn't have a hope of keeping, and shocked that she'd had the stones to say such a thing in front of the kid, no matter how young he seemed.

"Don't take too long, Pookie. The next batch are chocolate chip."