Characters are from TWD. I am just writing for fun :)

Whiskey

Alice wasn't drunk, but she wasn't feeling quite sober either. Daryl on the other hand was definitely drunk.

Merle and Glenn had already retired to their rooms, but she didn't want to go to sleep yet. She knew that she would not be able to rest with so many jumbled thoughts about the CDC and her sister racing through her head.

Daryl had stayed with her at the kitchen table. She had been nursing one drink the whole time, but Daryl kept pouring himself more drinks.

"Ya drink whiskey?" he asked her, slurring his words slightly.

Alice tilted her head in amusement at his question.

"No, I can't say that whiskey is my go to drink, Daryl."

"It should be."

"Why? Easier to get me drunk?" she teased.

"Nah, s' your eye color," he replied, taking another large sip of his drink.

She blinked in surprise at his observation for a second before recovering.

"Well, if eye color is the perquisite, you'd be drinking some girlie drink like an aquatini or a blue margarita."

"Yer drunk," he told her seriously after a slight pause, "n' I want more booze."

Alice laughed in amazement. "Daryl, are you serious? I'm sober! It's you who's drunk….and don't bat those pretty blue eyes at me, Daryl—I'm not getting you a refill."

Alice knew she shouldn't be flirting with Daryl like that. She really shouldn't, especially when he was drunk. But, a small demon lodged in her brain and wouldn't let up, prodding her with his pitchfork. She liked when Daryl got flustered. She bit back a grin, enjoying this more than she should.

He seemed to consider what she had told him, his brow furrowing as if in concentration.

"I ain't drunk," he finally concluded.

"You're a total lightweight, Daryl!"

She must have wounded his male ego because he scowled at her. Alice couldn't help herself; she burst out laughing.

"Yer drunk," he accused again, obviously forgetting he had already called her drunk only a moment earlier.

Her laugh had started out as a giggle, but now it turned into full blown laughter. Every time she would stop laughing, all she had to do was look at Daryl and she started to laugh again. He obviously didn't see what was so funny. He crossed his arms over his chest before standing up, walking past her and reaching for the door handle to get out.

She reached over and grabbed his arm to stop him. Desperately, she tried to stop laughing.

"Daryl…" she began to say, slightly out of breath from laughing. "Don't leave…If you could just see yourself. Stay," she giggled.

Her laughter stopped abruptly when Daryl took a step towards her and placed his arms on either side of her head, effectively pinning her between his hard body. She found herself with her back against the wall, Daryl's arms braced on either side of her head, only the heat from his body pressing against her. The movement sent tingles down her spine. She studied him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Daryl…I…" she began to speak, no longer laughing, but she stopped talking as Daryl shifted even closer removed one of his hands from the wall to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes were dark as they stared down at her and she could feel his fingers on the side of her face. He slowly moved his fingers down to her neck, and Alice had to swallow a sigh. He was touching her skin so lightly and she could feel her blood skim just below his fingers. Every cell was electrified.

He leaned in ever so slightly. He was going to kiss her, she realized, dazed. She wanted it. Forget right or wrong.

But Alice could never let herself be seduced away from her logical, practical reality. She wasn't allowed to want Daryl, not when her boyfriend whom she loved had died. Not when her sister was missing.

She put her hand onto his chest.

"Daryl, you're drunk," she whispered, but her voice sounded unsteady and unsure.

"I ain't," he repeated again. He didn't move away, his eyes still dark and trained on her lips.

He moved closer to her, his hips pressing her further into the wall. She pushed him away— gently, but firmly.

"I can't," Alice breathed out, trying to convince herself more so than Daryl.

Her breath hitched as he brushed her arm to get through the door. She watched him leave, unsure of what she wanted from him. She suddenly felt sober, horribly, hideously sober.

Alice walked back to her room in a daze. Mechanically she went through the motions of washing her face, brushing her teeth, and preparing for bed.

She collapsed onto the bed and clutched the pillow close to her as the floodgates collapsed and sobs racked her body. Waves of pure, excruciating emotion tore through her as she felt alternately sad and upset.

Without Glenn's breathing near her, there was nothing to fight back the guilt that kept her up most nights, adding to her exhaustion. Worst of all, she missed her family with an intensity that physically hurt. Missed talking to her sister and mother. Missed her father's laughter. Missed curling up on the couch with Derek while they read or watched TV. She hadn't slept in a real bed for what seemed like an eternity and today she acutely felt the loss of Derek. Without him, the bed felt like a cold and lonely place.

The clock near her bedside read 9:00 p.m. Monday. A few months ago, she would have just been leaving the hospital after work. She would have walked to Dr. Pruitt's lab where Derek would have been standing at his lab bench, finishing up some experiment, waiting for her. His glasses had a habit of sliding down his nose, so that he had to continually push them back up.

She tried to picture his face in her mind, attempted to visualize his familiar movements but instead she found herself imaging Daryl.

What was it with Daryl and her recent silly feelings for him? Was she really that desperate for contact that she would flirt with just anyone that was within her arm's reach? Rationally, she knew this wasn't the case. But, but the thought only added to her guilt.

She had never been attracted to someone like him. She'd spent a lifetime avoiding men like him—men that could make her feel unnervingly inadequate and totally out of her depth.

But truth be told, Alice felt oddly at ease with Daryl, as if she'd known him for a long time.

She let out a yell and punched the pillow as the sadness subsided and the anger took over.