Rednecks and Tailgates

They were sitting on the tail gate of the red truck out in the yard, him carving bolts and her mending clothes when she asked him.

"Daryl," she started, "what was your type of woman, before this all started."

He shook his head and snorted. "Why you wana know bout that?"

She shrugged without looking up from her mending. "Just wondering is all."

"I don' know "he answered, pausing his work for a moment and staring out at the horizon. "I guess I liked them curvy blondes, jus' like any other white trash, red neck."

She stopped her mending and turned to look at him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Really?"

"Well," he shrugged, "hell's yeah. You know…the pin up type."

"Is that who you…dated?" her eyes went back to her hands.

"Pshht !" he shrugged, "I didn't date nobody. But that aint what you asked. You were askin' about my type."

"Well what's the difference really?" she asked quietly, stung by his answer. What was she expecting him to say anyway, older women with short, grey hair?

"There's a hell of a difference," he paused and rested his hands on his dirty jeans, "you tellin' me that…Ed, was your type? Some guy that…." He looked down again and shrugged, "Well, you know better than me what he was like."

She closed her eyes and lifted her head to the sunlight, smiling for a moment as she thought back on her previous life, Her previous life, before, the apocalypse, before Sophia, before her sickness….before all of it. "Ed wasn't always like that you know."

He grunted and shook his head.

"I never really dated much" she said looking down as she continued her mending, "and when Ed came around, I just….I just went with it I guess."

"Yeah well…" he held the piece of wood he was carving up and inspected it with one eye shut before returning it to his lap. "Dumb move." He grumbled under his breath.

She stopped and stretched her back, resting her hands and staring off into the fence line. "Well, I suppose it was…. He did give me Sophia. And I had twelve wonderful years with her…so it wasn't all bad."

Daryl kept his head down and kept on carving. He didn't want to touch that. He didn't want to delve into something so deep and so personal, he didn't want to mention Sophia….ever.

Carol closed her eyes for a moment before sighing. She knew she had crossed a boundary with him. She could feel it, thick and cold between them. Sophia was her greatest loss, and his biggest failure…at least he thought so. She didn't want to think about her. Not today. Not when it was warm and sunny, and there were no groans of walkers coming from the fence line. She wanted to have one day. One good day.

So she took another deep breath and smiled before looking in her lap and resuming her work. "He was the only man I'd ever been with, you know." She said softly.

"Jesus Christ woman!" he grumbled loudly. "Don't need to know that shit!"

She laughed, pulling a hand up to her mouth; she had known this comment would get him going…sometimes she thought, getting to Daryl was easier than getting walkers through the fence.

He shook his head, "You best be keepin' that to ya' self."

"Well he was!" she said continuing to laugh, "Or is, I guess." She looked at him before shrugging, "Isn't that pathetic, I mean it's the end of the damn world, and that mean son of a bitch was the only man I've ever had sex with."

"Hey!" He pushed himself off the tail gate and stood, "I aint kidding with ya woman, you cut the shit or I'm walkin'. I mean I know we're friends but….I aint your girlfriend. And that shits…personal."

"Oh calm down Daryl!" she scolded, "You don't need to be so uppity about…that. It's not as if you've never…"

"Hey," he held up a hand, "I'm warnin' you Carol…."

"Ok, Ok…" she smiled softly, "I'm done….I promise… you can sit…"

He sat down on the tail gate again and smirked in her direction. "damn woman thinks this some type a' girl talk or somethin'."

"Sorry." She shrugged. "I forgot how…sensitive…you were."

He paused and slammed his knife down, turning to face her, "Well now y'ar jus' fuckin' with me."

"I am." She said solemnly before breaking into a grin. "I am, I'm sorry… I was…bored."

"Oh" he laughed lightly under his breath, "well I'm sorry, I'm so damn borin'….maybe you could be scrubbing clothes or rustling up some shit meals, or killin some more walkers, if I'm jus' too damn boring' ta sit with."

She whistled softly through her teeth. "Now that was sensitive."

He shook his head and laughed. Damn this woman never let up. "Yer, tryin' to get under my skin right?" he asked, squinting in the sun.

"Yes." She laughed. Leaning over slightly to bump against his arm. "I am"

"Yeah well…" he mumbled softly, non-committedly; as he let the comfortable silence over take them again. It was nice, he thought, sitting' out here in the sun, just shootin' the shit with a friend. A good friend.

He worked on his bolt for a while carving and looking, and perfecting, before he set it down and pulled another stick from the pile. He held it in his hand for a moment before stretching his arms above his head and trying to get a crick out of his neck. Yup…she had been right, could get a little boring out there.

"Sides," he mumbled, under his breath, "Don't know what yer complainin about, world aint over yet."

She laughed, "Daryl Dixon…are you suggesting that I…"

"Ah ta ta" he held up a hand to silence her. "I aint suggestin' nuthin….just statin' a fact. You still got plenty of time ta….ta….do what ya wanna do."

She looked at him in disbelief, he refused to meet her eyes, but she could see that he was smirking, fighting hard to hide a grin.

"It's not like I have much choice." She teased.

He squinted into the sun, and smirked, she could take some razzing too he reckoned. "There's always Axel ?" he shrugged.

"Not my type." She answered with a laugh.

"Well," he shrugged, "Not many 'types' left ta choose from. Slim pickin's now."

She looked down at the shirt in her hand, more holes than cloth, really, "Don't I know it." She sighed, with a smile. "I'm thinking I'm going to have to change my type…."

"Ya are, are ya?" he asked. He couldn't believe he was doing this. This was flirting, something he'd never managed before, and something he certainly shouldn't be doing now…not with his friend. His best friend.

"Oh yeah," she continued, pausing her sewing and looking out across the fence line again. "Times are different now…so…we have to let go of our old ideals. Like you" she paused and looked down into her lap again, "you may never get that perfect blonde pin up."

He raised an eyebrow; just who did she think he was. "I never got one of those before the apocalypse neither, woman."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"Hells no!" he smirked, "woman, I was white trash, lucky enough to find some skank wantin' to come home with me at the end of the night. Shit…... blonde pin up…." He shook his head. I never even had a girlfriend, he thought. Damn woman probably had more experience in the bedroom than him…and that was sad.

"My God," she turned to face him, "Is that what you were like, taking women home from bars and…"

"No, no, no, now don't get yerself all up in a huff, all women's lib and shit. I didn' say I did that….I said I woulda been lucky enough for that." For some reason, he just didn't want her thinking those things about him. Not her. Not ever.

"So you didn't do that?" she asked uncertainly. Hoping, for no particular reason, that it was the truth. Wanting to hear more than anything at that moment that Daryl had never ever taken any woman home from a bar…especially not a "skank".

"Woman." He said sternly, standing up and gathering his belongings, realizing that things had gone too far, and that this conversation had crossed well beyond the boundaries of his comfort zone. "What I did or didn't do with women aint nobody's business but my own." Then looking over and seeing that maybe he had spoken to her a little too sternly, he added softly, "but it wasn't much, I'll tell ya that much."

She paused for a moment, then shrugged. "You still have time. World aint over yet."

He stood there for a minute, speechless, before shaking his head and turning to head inside, "You commin?" he called out to her.

She scrambled to her feet and jogged a bit to keep in step with him, "You know…." She started, with a laugh, "I've been thinking about changing my type…. to rednecks."