So, dang it, someone cut me to the chase at the last minute! This isn't the FIRST Daryl and Michonne fic...but it's still gonna be good.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters depicted in this story. The Walking Dead is not mine, no matter how much I wish it was.

Also, forgive any racial slurs that may be mentioned in this story but let's face it...we all know how Daryl used to be and his mind still holds a bit of his old self in there so there will be some racist comments made. Note that I DO NOT share these views and I think racism is stupid and horrible!

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The moment Andrea had walked up to that gate everything had gone to hell. Not that Daryl wasn't glad to see her alive and well, but the dynamics had settled nicely among the group after their success in securing the prison but the arrival of Andrea had caused a ripple effect that had shaken the entire group. To be honest though, it wasn't Andrea causing the stress it was that...Michonne.

She set him on edge, made him feel like he constantly had to watch his back. Like now, for example, he was up in the south guard tower, Carol sat in the north tower, and they were suppose to be on guard for walkers and unfriendly people outside the prison fence...but Daryl's eye couldn't help but suspiciously flick to that tight-lipped, jawless-walker-totting, sharp ass object carrying woman as she and Andrea walked the fence to check for any weaknesses or repairs that needed to be done. Sure, she appeared to be contributing to the group but Daryl still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut every time she was in his sight.

"Daryl, come in?" the walkie talkie on the ledge in front of him crackled to life.

"See something?" Daryl responded into the walkie, his gaze no scanning the area over near the north tower where Carol was calling from.

"No, but I'm really bored," Carol's voice sounded sheepish even through the white noise of the walkie. "Anything interesting going on over there?"

"Naw, quiet as death," he instantly wanted to facepalm himself for that statement.

"Uh huh, here too," Carol replied, not even acknowledging his thoughtless remark.

"Just keepin' an eye on Andrea right now," Daryl admitted, his eyes going back to where the two women had stopped to discuss who knows what.

"You don't need to worry about her, she's with Michonne," Carol replied.

"Exactly."

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Daryl sighed heavily out of pure boredom as his tired eyes scanned the edge of the forest for any threats, his mind was starting to wander and he shook his head to clear his thoughts and focus on the task at hand.

"Don't fall asleep on the job," the voice sent a chill up his spine, how the hell had she snuck up on him like that? Jumping up, he spun around while raising his crossbow to his shoulder, aiming right between those chocolate brown eyes, eyes that matched her skin almost to the shade. She just stared back at him, a small smile twitched the corner of her mouth and Daryl had a suspicion she was silently laughing at him.

"Easy there, redneck," she stated calmly, pushing his crossbow down as she slid by him sideways to take his place in the guard seat. "It's my watch, go do whatever it is you do."

Daryl wanted so badly to snap back with something mean, something he would have said without hesitation only months before. Words jumped into his mind, words like nigger and coon and spook, but they died on the tip of his tongue as he relaxed his grip on the bow in his hands and stepped back, watching her carefully until he reached the ladder behind him and swung over, climbing back down to the prisonyard.

"Hey," another voice made him jump again, but he recognized it as Andrea and he relaxed before turning to face her.

"Whadd'ya want, blondie?" he asked with his regular condescending tone.

"I want to know what your problem is," Andrea replied, staring him down.

"What're ya talkin' about? I ain't got a problem."

"Is it because she's black?"

Daryl felt like Andrea had just slapped him in the face. Was he ever going to be able to leave the racist reputation behind?

"You accusin' me of somethin'?"

"If the shoe fits..."

"It ain't got nothin' ta do with the color of 'er skin, Andrea," Daryl suddenly felt the need to defend himself. "Now you're stereotypin' me just because of my upbringin'?"

"It's got nothing to do with your upbringing, Daryl," Andrea replied sharply, "I've HEARD some of the things you and Merle said about T-Dog and Morales and Jacqui!"

"Key word there, heared," Daryl barked, "I ain't no master of the English language but that means it was in the past. I ain't Merle!"

Daryl's eyes remained deliberately locked on hers as he shouldered past her in the direction of the gate.

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Michonne watched he scene below, even though she couldn't hear the words exactly she heard the last statement the crossbow weilding hick made before he stomped off toward the gates. She wasn't sure who this "Merle" character was but she figured it was a sore subject for him.

"Sounds like you pissed off the redneck," she commented when Andrea joined her in the tower. Andrea looked at her and she could see the regret in her green eyes.

"Yeah, I think I bruised his ego," she said, leaning against the desk as she watched Daryl's figure disappear into the trees. She knew he was going hunting to clear his head like he always did.

Michonne stayed quiet, but she had a feeling Andrea had hurt much more than just his ego. The redneck looked, sounded and acted tough, not that she at all doubted his abilities or strength, but there was something else under that macho facade if Michonne was any judge of character.

"He doesn't trust you," Andrea stated, out of the blue.

Michonne wasn't surprised at all, she hadn't missed the angry glances and the doubtful glares Daryl Dixon had been giving her from the moment she had walked into that prison with Andrea. She still remembered the deadly seriousness in his eyes as he trained the sights of his crossbow at her the very first time. She had liked those eyes, they were no nonsense and protective and cautious...the same look she held in her own eyes more often than not.

"He doesn't have any reason to trust me yet," she finally replied to Andrea. "Maybe he's the smartest one in this group after all."

Andrea only laughed.

"Dixon? He's probably got an 8th grade education level at the most," she mused.

"There are other types of intelligence," Michonne's eyes flicked over to judge the blonde's reaction.

Andrea seemed to mull that over for a while before she smile slightly and nodded.

"Are you saying we shouldn't trust you?" she asked, teasingly.

"Not what I said," Michonne objected quietly, "I think I've proved myself to you most of all...but no one in this group knows my story and they still trust me like I've always been here. That redneck is the only one taking this whole thing in stride. That's why he's still alive int his world."

The girls fell silent as their minds strayed to people who had not been so fortunate. Finally Michonne felt like if she didn't get out of that tower she would go crazy so she stood quickly.

"You gonna take watch?" she asked, handing Andrea the rifle that Daryl had left her. Andrea looked surprised but took the gun with a nod. Michonne nodded back her thanks and climbed down to the yard. She didn't know exactly where to go now thst she was down here, but something inside her told her the gate. So she followed her gut and Daryl Dixon as she headed into the woods surrounding the prison.

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Here's the start of an awesome plan I have in my head...let me know what ya'll think!