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Sweet Escape

Chapter 1: My Best Friend's Date

"My kid hates me," Rick Grimes muttered as he passed his best friend a beer.

"The hell are you talking about?" Daryl Dixon grabbed for the beer, popped the top and sucked a third of it down before he sat down on the porch steps.

"It's his weekend at my house, and he looks at me and says 'I hate you. I'm staying with mommy.'"

"Oh," Daryl muttered. "He's a kid. He'll get over it." Rick shook his head.

"I wanna say things that I know I shouldn't say. He hates me, blames me for the divorce. I wanna look at him and tell him that it was his mother's fault for sleeping with someone else, but I think he'd just resent me even more one day." Rick glanced at Daryl, and Daryl grunted. "And he's just a kid. I have to be the bigger person. If he hears me talking bad about his mom, I don't know…I just…" He sighed and looked at Daryl, who narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"What the hell are you lookin' at me for? I ain't got a kid. Ain't never been married. Ain't got nothin' for ya here."

"I need a favor, Daryl."

"Shit, this ain't gonna be like the time you got drunk and set Shane's yard on fire, is it, 'cause if the cops ever come sniffin' around my place, I'm givin' your ass up. Ain't sayin' the asshole didn't deserve it for screwin' your wife, but I ain't takin' the fall. And I'm a fireman. I'm s'posed to stop fires, not start 'em." Rick clapped him on the shoulder.

"Thanks, buddy," Rick snorted. "No. Look, I met someone."

"And that means what to me?" Daryl replied, sucking down the rest of his beer.

"Well, she's recently divorced, she's got a kid. We have a lot in common. She's beautiful. She's got this great figure, gorgeous, blue eyes. She's got this cute little, I dunno, I guess you'd call it a pixie cut. Kind of reddish brown hair. Hot."

"So, you need help getting laid, is that it?"

"Well, she's just getting out there, see, and she'd feel more comfortable in a group environment, you know? She's got a friend, and…"

"No."

"C'mon, Daryl."

"A fuckin' double date? We ain't twelve?"

"When was the last time you had a nice evening with a pretty woman?"

"Uh, have you seen the friend?" Daryl asked, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket.

"Well, no, but…"

"So how do ya know she's pretty? Look, it ain't like that's all that matters. I know. The last 'pretty girl' you set me up with was one of Lori's friends, and I ended up handcuffed to a bed. I'm pretty sure she started speakin' in tongues when we were…"

"Alright, enough said," Rick laughed. "I'll just be lonely and miserable the rest of my life."

"Oh, fuck you," Daryl grumbled. "Don't do that shit."

"C'mon, man. It's been…like six months."

"Yeah, well, cry me a river," Daryl grumbled, lighting his cigarette and taking a long draw.

"How is it that an asshole like you gets women slipping him their numbers at least once a week? Is it the fireman thing, or is it that you swear like a sailor and smoke like a chimney? Because maybe I'm in the wrong line of business," Rick muttered. Daryl gave him a look. "Maybe it's the hair. And you don't even call most of them. What's wrong with you?"

"Guess I just saw how miserable bein' with a woman was makin' you, so I figured I'd avoid it at all costs," Daryl smirked, taking another puff.

"You need to get out there, too."

"Nah, I'm good."

"When was the last time you had sex? Did the crazy chanting girl scar you for life or somethin'?"

"Christ, if I say yes, will ya shut up already?" He saw the grin spread over Rick's face.

"Yep."

"Great. Fine. I'll go. So what's this chick's name? Will it go good with Grimes when ya marry her, 'cause ya seem desperate enough that I'm sure that's where it's headin'."

"Shut up," Rick chuckled. "Her name's Carol, and trust me, when you see her, you'll be wishing you'd met her first."

"And my date? You know, the friend that she's bringing since she don't wanna be alone with your ass?"

"Funny," Rick mumbled. "Name's Michonne."

"Michonne," Daryl said slowly. "Alright. I'll do it. But I swear if you ditch me, I ain't never doin' another thing for you."

"You got it," Rick chuckled. "Thanks, brother." Daryl frowned and tossed his burned out cigarette butt onto the pavement. "Relax, Daryl. What could go wrong?

...

"Daryl?" Michonne asked with a laugh, pausing in the doorway of her bathroom with her toothbrush in her mouth.

"Yeah, what's wrong with his name?" Carol asked, bouncing Michonne's young son Andre in her arms. He rested his head upon her shoulder sleepily.

"Oh God," Michonne choked out, spitting into the sink and wiping her mouth. "Does he have a mullet and at least six missing teeth?"

"Michonne!" Carol scolded. "Come on, give him a chance. I just need a buffer. You're the one that convinced me to go out and start dating again, but I just need an extra little push. Please do this with me."

"So this Rick Grimes is a cop, is he? You hoping he has a big gun?"

"Oh, shut up," Carol muttered with an eye roll. "He was nice. We met in the produce section at the grocery store. He's got a son about Sophia's age." Michonne yawned, and Carol whined. "C'mon, Michonne. It's not like you have to marry the guy. I just need a little support. Who knows? Maybe Rick's the right one. Maybe…maybe Daryl's the one you've been waiting for. If you don't go, you might miss out on the best thing you'll never know you were supposed to do."

"Oh my God," Michonne muttered. "Fine! But I'm only doing this because I love you, and because I'm pretty sure if you don't get laid soon, you're going to start adopting cats and I won't be able to visit you, because I'm allergic."

"Thank you," Carol said with a cheery smile, ignoring the little jab Michonne had made. Instead, she handed Andre over to his mother and then grabbed her car keys and her purse.

"Wait, where are you going?" Michonne asked, putting Andre down to toddle off to the living room.

"I'm going home. I have to drive Sophia to her dad's for the weekend, and then I have to get ready."

"But we have three hours."

"You do realize this will be the first date I've had since my first date with Ed, right? I'm thirty now. Hell, I don't even know what I should wear."

"Well, are you looking for 'nice dinner with a handsome guy' or 'please take me up against the wall of this cramped bathroom stall?'"

"Uh, somewhere in the middle?" Carol offered.

"Alright. Go with the little black dress. It's classy, but it's sexy, and it can be ambiguous. It could mean 'I want to look nice for you,' but it can also mean 'I may not be wearing any panties, and you can make a move when you walk me to my door.' And you'll be safe, because I'll be there, so if he's some creep, I can just pepper spray him for you and call it a night."

"Have I mentioned how much I love you?" Carol asked with an amused smirk.

"Not lately, but it's nice to be reminded." Carol flashed her a thankful grin before she turned and hurried out of Michonne's apartment.

...

"So, which one do you think's mine?" Michonne asked, sucking absently on a breath mint as they sat in her car. Carol fidgeted anxiously in the passenger's seat. "If it's that guy, I'll kill you." She pointed to a guy wearing socks and sandals and a wrinkly shirt. He kept walking past the restaurant doors. "Oh, thank God."

"You realize that Daryl's probably grilling Rick about the same thing right now. Doesn't that make you feel a little objectified? Isn't it what's on the inside that counts?"

"Well, yeah, but when you've been on one too many blind dates, you're bound to be a little pessimistic. Oh. Oh, here we go. Look at that tall drink of water."

"Huh?" Carol asked, scanning the group of people walking by.

"Him. Standing by the door. Hello, gorgeous." She fanned her face.

"Uh…him? The guy in the tight jeans?"

"Um, yeah. Come to mama."

"Oh God," Carol muttered, biting her lip as her cheeks brightened.

"What?" Michonne asked. "Oh no. No! Don't tell me that's your date."

"I'm sorry," Carol winced.

"Oh, damn it!" Michonne laughed. "Oh, I hate you right now."

"Well, I told you he was handsome!"

"Understatement of the year," Michonne breathed, wiping at her forehead with the back of her hand.

"You need to be alone for a minute?" Carol asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Oh, no, I'll be alright. Oh, damn it, I can't believe you, you lucky minx. Just promise me you give me all the juicy details, because I will be living vicariously through you." Michonne dug into her purse and pulled out a roll of breath mints. "Here. If you don't end the night making out with him, I will disown you." She sighed heavily as Carol tucked her mints into her purse. "Ok, let's see what I got." They watched Rick for a moment, and when the second guy showed up with a cigarette in his mouth, and clapped Rick on the shoulder, Michonne groaned.

"A smoker? Oh, I guess I can deal with it for one night. But I'm not really into the shaggy hair. Ooh, nice arms, though. Not bad." She glanced at Carol, who was suddenly very quiet. "Carol?"

Carol took a shaky breath, immediately zeroing in on the way this Daryl's eyes scanned the crowd, the way he seemed to linger back a little, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. He was wearing a button down shirt, but it was very evident that he worked out judging by the way the shirt fit him a little more snugly than she'd expected.

His hair swept down into his hair until he pushed it out of his face, and she noticed the exquisite bone structure of his face, the way his lips pursed around the cigarette, the way he carried himself with a reserved confidence, as if he was waiting for everything to fall apart. He was gorgeous, lean but muscular, and he had a few days worth of stubble on his chin that made her wonder what it might be like to brush her fingertips over his jaw.

Suddenly, her heart was racing, and she had to take a deep breath.

"Uh, Earth to Carol?"

"Huh? Oh. Sorry."

"Sweetie, do you need a cigarette?"

"What? I'm fine. I was just…"

"Yeah, I know you were just," Michonne smirked. "Oh, look. They're going in." Carol took a couple of deep breaths before she checked her makeup and hair in the mirror.

"Ok, let's do this."

"You ok? You're not gonna jump my date the second we get to the table are we?"

"Oh, shut up. I'm Rick's date."

"Yeah? Well, I'm all for swapping if it so suits you."

"Stop," Carol laughed. "Let's go. One night, and we'll see what happens." Michonne nodded and popped another breath mint into her mouth. "I thought you didn't care for smokers?"

"Well, if this goes anywhere tonight, I want one of us to at least taste good."

"You're crazy," Carol laughed.

"But I'm honest," Michonne shrugged. "Let's get this over with."

...

"I think you been stood up," Daryl muttered, taking a sip of ice water as Rick watched the door anxiously.

"She'll be here. She's got a kid. Probably just got held up."

"M'gonna take a piss." Daryl tossed his napkin on the table and stood up quickly.

"Yeah, alright," Rick replied, waving a waitress over. As Daryl walked away, Rick ordered a bottle of wine and four glasses for the group, and when the waitress headed off toward the bar, Rick looked over to see a woman heading his way. She wore a red dress that complimented the shade of her lipstick. It was low cut, he couldn't help but let his gaze wander down to the valley between her breasts, seeing a fine sheen of sweat there, no doubt from the humid summer air. Her braids were pulled up and off her elegant neck, and he couldn't help but let his gaze pass over her shoulders, and then he was looking at her breasts again.

And she stopped at his table.

"Hi, are you Rick?"

"Uh…"

"You need a minute?"

"Um…yeah, I'm Rick," he choked out, standing up and spilling his glass of water. "Shit. I'm sorry. God." He dabbed at the water and glanced up at Michonne who was smiling a perfect, pearly white smile, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.

"Carol wanted me to tell you she went to the ladies' room to wash her hands."

"Uh, your Daryl, I mean, your date did, too. Um, to the men's room. Not the ladies'."

"Yeah, I figured that's what you meant," Michonne chuckled. Rick cleared his throat and quickly pulled out a chair for her. "Oh, thank you."

"I ordered wine. I hope that's alright."

"Wine is good," Michonne replied with a bright smile. "Carol's favorite is red."

"Oh. Yeah. Carol. My…date." Michonne gave him a look that he couldn't quite read, before he quickly brushed his fingers through his short hair and turned his attention down to the menu that shook in his anxious hands.

...

"Shit!"

"Oh! I'm sorry," Carol murmured, quickly moving the point of her heel off of his boot. She took a step back, staring up into the most gorgeous blue eyes she'd ever stared into before. He smelled like cologne with a slight hint of smoke and mint, and it was all a very, very good combination. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and cleared his throat. She felt her knees go weak the second his lips parted and his tongue darted out to wet them.

"No harm done," he said quietly, moving out of the way to let her walk out first. He couldn't help but notice the way that black dress clung to her in all the right spots. The straps were clear, giving the illusion of a strapless dress, and it clung to her breasts and her hips and her ass in all the right ways. He found his pulse picking up speed when she turned to look over her shoulder, nearly stumbling on her own two feet.

He couldn't help but wish that he didn't have this fucking double date, or else he might actually find his balls for once and ask this gorgeous woman to join him. But, surely she wasn't here alone.

When he realized she was walking toward Rick's table, he suddenly noticed that cute pixie cut and the reddish brown hair. The hair that Rick was talking about. Holy shit.

"I'm Carol," she said with a smile, glancing over her shoulder at him briefly. "I'm Rick's date."

"I'm…Daryl. I'm…"

"Rick's friend. It's nice to meet you."

"Yeah. Yeah, you too." With a frustrated sigh, Daryl prayed this dinner would end quickly. How the hell was he supposed to get through this night—with a date of his own, no less—when all he could think about was how badly he wanted to feel his best friend's date pressed up against him.

What could go wrong? Sure.