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You Give Me Fever

Chapter 1

"Oh! Ohhhh yes. Yes! Oh, God! Unh! Don't stop!"

Daryl was certain he could render himself deaf at that moment, and he would still never un-hear what was happening in the next room. He buried his head against the pillow, slamming one large hand over his exposed ear, grunting in frustration as his bed shook unexpectedly. He lifted his head, hearing the rhythmic knocking of a headboard against his wall. He made a mental note to start sleeping outside again.

"Oh, fuck! Oh, yeah. Uh, fuck me! Harder, Rick. Oh God! Oh, yeah!"

"God damn it," Daryl grunted, throwing his pillow off the bed and getting up on his knees, fist raised, poised to pound on the wall and tell Michonne and Rick to have a little respect for their housemates. Good thing Carl was staying late at a friend's house. At least they waited until the kid was out to have wild animal sex, but apparently the rest of the house didn't matter. Assholes.

A low growl escaped his throat as he kicked back his covers and stumbled out of bed.

"Yeah? You like it? You like that? Cum for me, 'Chonne. C'mon. Fuck!"

Christ on a cracker.

Daryl quickly tugged on his clothes and made a beeline for the door, nearly smacking right into somebody when he stepped into the hall.

"Oh!" she squeaked out, stepping back with wide eyes as the loud cries from the next room rose in a crescendo.

"Uh, hey," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

"You can't sleep either?" she asked, glancing toward the closed bedroom door.

"Their bed's on the wall my bed's on. What the hell do you think?"

"I think we should get out of here," Carol chuckled, unable to hide the grin that spread over her face.

"Think we can crash on Maggie and Glenn's couch?"

"Uh, I have a better idea." She smiled then, nodding toward the stairs. He followed her down the steps and out the front door and into the brisk fall air.

"Where we goin'?"

"Trust me," she grinned, grabbing him by the hand, much to his surprise. She felt him tense as her fingers clasped around his. "C'mon, Pookie. I won't bite." She tugged him toward a house down the street, and Daryl blinked in confusion.

"This house is empty."

"Exactly," she said with a shrug. "And it's unlocked."

"No shit?"

"Well, not exactly, but there's a way in. I caught Carl climbing through the basement window the other day. There's a couch down there. Food. Looks like he goes down there to get away from everybody."

"Can ya blame him?" Daryl snorted.

"Shh. You'll wake the neighbors." Daryl glanced around.

"Mr. and Mrs. Miller? They almost eighty, and they can't hear." She turned then, and they nearly bumped noses.

"Exactly," she whispered, raising an eyebrow. In the dim light of the moon, Daryl could still see the gleam in her eyes, and he suddenly felt every nerve in his body catch on fire. "C'mon." She turned then, moving down to pop open the basement window. Within moments, she was disappearing inside, and he grunted as he squeezed through the window and landed on the cold, basement floor. Carol flipped a light on, and she smiled, waving her hand toward the couch, where magazines, comic books, bags of stale chips and cans of well-expired soda were stacked on either side.

Daryl was the first to flop down on the couch, while Carol now seemed to grow anxious, pacing a little. He could tell by the way her fingers twitched and the way she ran her fingers through her hair that she was craving a cigarette. From his count, she was on day four of withdrawal, and she was handling it a hell of a lot better than he ever could.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Just thinking," she replied, shaking her hands out at her sides. He couldn't help but notice the way her soft, blue shirt clung to her waist and to her breasts, and—holy shit—she wasn't wearing a bra. He was suddenly nineteen again and hanging out with Merle's scantily clad date while Merle was passed out drunk on the floor. She'd come on to him, but he'd freaked out and run her off the second Merle started to come around.

"Thinkin' about what?" he finally asked, heart hammering in his chest.

"Good for them," she said finally, sighing and slumping down next to him on the couch. "I'm glad they're happy."

"Who says they're happy?"

"Oh, girls talk. They're happy," Carol laughed. "Trust me."

"Yeah?

"Oh yeah," she grinned. "I caught Michonne singing this morning, Daryl. She was singing. And Rick's been walking around with this big, stupid grin on his face all week."

"Huh," Daryl grunted, leaning his head back against the couch. Carol glanced at him, chewing her lower lip between her teeth.

"Sounded like they were having fun."

"Yeah."

"I mean, it's probably been a while. For the both of them." She sighed. "Good for them." He glanced at her, meeting her gaze, and he suddenly felt a pull in his groin as all of his blood began to flow in that direction. Suddenly, his head was swimming.

"Yeah. Probably," he murmured, running his fingers through his hair.

"I mean, maybe not as long for Rick. I mean, I know he and Lori…at least, before we left the farm." Why is she talking about sex all the sudden? "And Michonne isn't one to gossip. Can't get anything out of her. She's not much for girl talk. At least, she didn't used to be. But I've gotten a few things out of her. Trust me, she's happy with Rick."

"Ok," Daryl muttered, feeling dumb and suddenly completely aroused as he noticed the way Carol's nipples poked at the fabric of her shirt.

Carol narrowed her eyes at him a little.

"Ed and I stopped having sex about a year before the world ended, you know? The last few times, it felt like an obligation, and I hated it. I hated everything about it. I didn't want him to touch me, because I associated Ed's touches with the bruises." She shook her head. "But I had a good vibrator."

"Christ," Daryl muttered.

"Sorry, Pookie. Michonne's busy with Rick. I don't have anybody to talk to."

"So you're talkin' to me about your…your…stuff?"

"My stuff?" she choked out, laughing.

"Shit, I don't wanna hear about that."

"Well, sorry," she smirked. "Come on. Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"How long's it been for you?"

"Long enough," he grunted.

"That's it?"

"That's it," he replied, face burning hot at this point. At that point, she almost pouted. Holy God, her lips pursed together, and she scooted a little closer, and he was pretty sure that if she touched him in that moment, he'd have a mess on his hands.

He quickly reached over the side of the couch and grabbed two cans of soda.

"You thirsty?"

"Nope," she replied with a little smile.

"You hungry?"

"Nope," she replied, gaze moving down his strong arms and sturdy hands. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, and it was all he could do to keep from reaching out to pull her into his lap. His brain nearly exploded when he realized that she'd probably be very ok with that in that moment.

Sighing then, Carol moved her hand down to his.

"I feel good," she said quietly.

"M'glad," he offered, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know ya weren't yerself for a while. Just good to see ya smile again." Carol smiled then, as if on cue, and he felt his heart do a cartwheel in his chest.

"You found me. You always find me."

"Nah. You found yerself," he offered, as Carol's fingertips danced over his knuckles. And then, without fanfare, her fingers curled into his hair, and she pulled him into a hungry kiss.