"Hush little baby, don't you cry..."

Carol swayed with the bundled infant, humming an old lullaby under her breath in a vain attempt to soothe her cries. Judith had always been a good baby but lately she'd been fighting sleep, wailing until her little scrunched up face turned red.

With a sigh, Carol bent to kiss the squalling infant on the forehead.

Warm fingertips, hesitant and calloused, brushed across the back of her neck and she turned in surprise to see Daryl walking by, crossbow slung over his shoulder. His eyes met hers, the slightest hint of a shy smile tugging at his lips.

She felt that brand new warmth spreading through her, that nervous giddiness like butterflies in her stomach. He nodded his head subtly towards her cell, chewing his ragged thumbnail. She'd come to realize he always did that when he was nervous.

She smiled, nodding once to let him know she understood.

Hours later she was lying awake, waiting for him. She knew he was on watch, knew she could go to him and sit beside him in silence, but he took the job very seriously. He didn't like to be distracted.

"You awake?"

His rough voice caught her off guard and she sat up straight, straining to see him through the heavy darkness. He was standing in the doorway, hesitating just outside it.

"You're early," she whispered.

She heard him snort, "Want me to come back later?"

Kicking the thin blanket off her legs, she crossed them under herself to give him room and patted the bed in invitation. He hesitated for a moment, she could almost picture him chewing his bottom lip, before coming to sit down beside her.

The thin mattress shifted under his weight, the frame squeaking ever so slightly, "Glenn and Maggie wanted to take over."

She chuckled at that. Of course they did.

As her eyes adjusted, she could see him sitting bolt upright, his shoulders stiff as she scooted closer to him. They danced this awkward, uncertain dance nearly every night now. He would come to her, seemingly wanting to be near her while still keeping his distance. As of yet, their fledgling relationship was unconsummated.

And maybe it always would be. Maybe one or both of them would die before she broke through his final defenses but still, she was pleased with their progress. He would let her hold him, kiss him, put her hand on his thigh, before fleeing to the safety of his perch.

Well, that wasn't the right way to put it really. He didn't flee. He'd pull away from her, his voice rough as he told her that he'd better go, that they both needed to get some sleep. She wasn't sure if it was because he'd never done it before or if he was just afraid of getting close to someone now, when the dead were walking the earth.

But it was okay, it wasn't all about sex. Sometimes they just talked and those were perhaps the nights she enjoyed the most. Mostly he listened, letting her ramble on, but sometimes he opened up enough to reveal the slightest hint of his childhood, of his past. She wasn't sure he meant to give anything away but the little details usually came out in a story about a deer he'd tracked or a truck he'd had before the world ended.

She could tell tonight wasn't going to be about conversation. He was still sitting stiffly at her side, staring at the floor with his hands in his lap.

Leaning in slowly, so as not to startle him, she placed her hand on his shoulder. He turned towards her, eyes seeking out hers, and she closed the gap between them to press her lips against his.

His mouth fell open as the breath rushed out of him, tension draining from his body, and she tugged him closer, her fingers tangling in his shaggy, tousled hair. His hand landed on her hip, light as a feather, as he turned to face her fully with his knee bent between them.

It was awkward, too many legs and too much space between them. She couldn't get close enough to wrap her arms around him like she wanted to, to feel his big hands splayed out across her back.

With a grunt of frustration, she climbed to her knees. Her lips tore free of his and he chased them blindly with his own, fingers tightening on her hip to hold her still. But she was climbing into his lap, straddling him on the bed.

He froze at the sudden, surprising invasion of his space, lips and hands stilling, but she wasn't deterred.

A shaft of silvery moonlight seeped in from the high windows above, catching on his face and casting shadows across his features. She looked down at him, into his startled blue eyes, and had to smile. He swallowed hard as she kissed her way across his cheek to his ear and shuddered as her tongue traced across it.

She felt his left hand rising to join his right on her hips, fingers wrapping around her hipbones as he instinctively pressed her down into his lap. She sank into him, feeling his chest rising and falling against her, his breathing coming quick and shallow. She felt like she was melting, warm and gooey, as he turned his head to capture her lips again.

She could feel him growing hard beneath her. Maybe tonight would be the night-

"Carol? Carol, Judith is-"

She let out a squeak of alarm as she heard Rick's voice right outside the cell, heard his footsteps approaching. She tried to pull away but it was too late and he was suddenly in the doorway.

"Oh!" he stopped short and then stumbled backwards, hurrying to cover his eyes with his hand, "Oh, I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't, I didn't know-"

Carol was dumped off Daryl's lap rather unceremoniously, falling onto her ass on the bed as he jumped to his feet.

She scrambled to her feet behind him, grabbing for his arm, "Daryl, wait!"

But it was no use. He shot out of the cell, not even daring to glance in Rick's direction. After a moment, she heard the loud grating of metal scraping against metal and knew he was gone, disappearing to brood in peace.

Well, there went all of their progress.

"I'm so sorry, Carol."

She turned to find Rick lingering outside the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably.

"I-I didn't know…" he repeated, rubbing his hand roughly over the scruff on his chin.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, "It's okay."

He nodded, looking down at his feet for a moment before squinting up at her, "So…you two?"

She shot him a look that had him glancing away quickly.

"Uh, right," he cleared his throat, "Well, uh, I can't get Judith to take her bottle. Would you mind giving me a hand?"

She followed Rick to his cell, to where Judith was squirming and cooing in her makeshift crib. But her mind wasn't on bottles of milk. It was on the poor, damaged man roaming somewhere in the darkness, wallowing in humiliation.

She should have known something like this would happen eventually. It had been an unspoken agreement that they'd be discreet, that they were both past the stage in their lives when it was acceptable or necessary to act like animals in heat in front of everyone. But there was no real privacy in the prison. They should have known.

She had to smile a bit to herself as she thought of him, red-faced and kicking a wall somewhere to let out the anger and the frustration.

It might take a while but she knew him. He'd be back.