He'd been at it all day.

She wasn't even sure what he was doing out there. From what she'd heard, he was producing nothing more than a lot of noise and muttered cursing.

At first she found it amusing. She supposed it was one way of letting off a little frustration, something she could certainly relate to, but it wasn't exactly the physical release she would have preferred.

She herself had been busy all morning, cooking and washing and mending and tending to Judith. But as the day went on, as sweat plastered her shirt to her body and the air inside the prison grew still and heavy, she started to get annoyed.

He'd gone out before breakfast and worked right through lunch, single-minded in his focus on completing whatever it was he was doing. He had to be close to passing out but he was still at it, the hardheaded fool. As annoyed as she was, she had to admire that kind of dedication and wonder if it could perhaps be applied elsewhere.

Stomping across the room, she snatched up one of the old cans they used for cups. It earned her a few odd looks from the others but she ignored them as she filled it to the brim with water.

He didn't even notice her as she emerged from the shadows of the prison, carefully balancing the full cup in one hand and shielding her eyes from the blinding afternoon sun with the other.

She stopped behind him, watching as he worked to untangle a length of chain. His shirt was wet with sweat, plastered to his body as if he'd just taken a swim. She knew most men would have stripped it off long ago and some of her annoyance faded as she thought of his reasons for keeping it on.

"Brought you some water," she murmured, taking a step back as he whirled around to face her.

"Ain't thirsty."

He turned away to get back to the task at hand but she wasn't having it.

"I don't care," she said firmly, extending the cup towards him, "Drink it."

He stopped and looked back at her, eyes wide with surprise. His jaw clenched and for a moment she thought he was going to dig his heels in and refuse, but he finally reached out and took the cup. She felt a pleasant little shockwave run through her as his fingertips brushed against hers.

Eyes locked on hers, he tipped the can back and drank the water down greedily, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

A few long, damp strands of hair clung stubbornly to his skin and she reached out to brush them off his forehead.

He paused, lowering the can to stare at her, his mouth still full of water. She smiled and he swallowed it down with a visible gulp, his tongue snaking out to lick a few stray droplets from the corners of his mouth.

She couldn't have felt less attractive, with sweat trickling between her breasts and her cheeks red from the heat, but still she felt a tugging in her gut as his eyes roamed her face, the tension between them shifting almost imperceptibly.

The sound of the metal can bouncing off the concrete startled them both and he looked away, the spell seemingly broken. He knelt down to pick it up and she found herself reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He looked up, squinting into the sunlight to see her face as she murmured, "Leave it."

A long moment passed as they stared into one another's eyes, hearts pounding.

And then he was standing, his fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist as he tugged her along behind him.

Anticipation had her feeling giddy and light on her feet. This time was different. She could just feel it.

They were almost to the cell block that had been cleared for the prisoners when she heard Maggie's voice call out, "Carol! Hey, Carol, you got a minute?"

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until it rushed out of her lungs, like a balloon deflating.

"Oh, not again," she muttered softly, shoulders sagging as she turned to face the woman.

This couldn't be happening again.

But then, to her immense surprise, Daryl barked, "No, she ain't."

Maggie looked taken aback. Carol felt Daryl's fingers tighten, saw Maggie's gaze drawn to his hand on her wrist. And then she saw understanding dawn on the woman's face as it all clicked.

Maggie fought to hide a broad smile, her lips twitching as she said, "Oh. Oh, right. It-it can wait."

And then Maggie turned on her heel and Daryl pushed the door open, dragging Carol along behind him.

"Well, that was rude," she told him with a smile, stopping to let her eyes adjust to the faint, shadowy light inside the empty cell block.

She heard him grunt in acknowledgement of her words, saw him wet his lips, and then his mouth was crashing down against hers. It was as though he was afraid he'd lose his nerve if he didn't kiss her right then and there.

His teeth colliding with hers caught her off guard and she pulled back gently, desperate not to hurt his feelings. She placed her hands on his face, brushing her thumbs over his rough cheeks, in an effort to guide him and slow him down.

He seemed to take the hint, pressing a much gentler kiss on her lips before finding his way to her neck, his hot tongue laving over her skin. She knew it must be salty and sweaty but he didn't seem to mind. His hands ran along the curve of her waist to rest on her hips, pulling them flush against his own. His trembling fingers were the only sign that he was nervous, unsure of himself when it came to her.

She couldn't hold back a breathy little sigh as his teeth nipped at her skin. His legs bumped into hers as he backed her against a metal table and she grabbed at him for support.

She laughed as her hands slipped off his sweat-slicked shoulders, "You know, if this was before, I'd have to make you take a shower first."

He froze, lifting his head to look her in the eyes. She felt his breath coming out in hot little puffs, saw the uncertainty etched into every line of his face, and then he was taking a step back.

"What are you doing?" she asked, reaching out to catch his hand.

He yanked it out of her grasp and reached up to swipe it through his damp hair.

"I wasn't thinkin'," he muttered, looking down at his soaked clothing.

"About what?" she replied quizzically, "Oh, about the shower? Come on, I was just teasing! Look at me, I'm disgusting too."

"No you ain't," he protested quietly, his words muffled as he chewed at his thumbnail.

"Yes, I am," she admitted, running her fingers over her sweaty, spiky hair, "But it's okay. If you don't mind, I sure don't."

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he mumbled, "It shouldn't be like this."

"What? You want moonlight and roses?" she asked, a playful smile spreading across her face as she closed the space between them, "Candles?"

He didn't protest as she wrapped her arms around him, tilting her head back to look him in the eye, "Maybe an Al Green record?"

"Al Green?" he repeated absently, his fingers playing along the hem of her shirt.

"Or Marvin Gaye," she suggested, pressing a kiss against his forehead as his hands slipped beneath her shirt to run up the curve of her back, dragging the thin material up with them, "Barry White?"

He let out a soft huff of amusement, shaking his head.

"Well, what kind of music did you like to make love to?"

She wondered if she might have said the wrong thing again but he just chewed his bottom lip, hands splaying out over her shoulder blades.

"Whatever was playing, I reckon," his eyes darted up to meet hers, moving across her face uncertainly as he added, "Weren't never anything special."

She nodded, smiling. She understood. Then their lips met and none of it mattered. Not the sweat or the uncertainty.

And this time, finally, there were no interruptions.

She came back down to earth with his damp shirt bunched up on the floor under her back and his hand pressed firmly over her mouth. His slick, sweaty forehead was pressed tight against hers, his breath hot in her face.

She sighed into his palm, running her fingers down his bare back. He shuddered in response to the light trailing of her fingernails down his spine, letting out a grunt of surprise as her hands slid lower and squeezed his bare ass, fingernails digging into the firm, muscled flesh.

He looked down at her and she smirked at him from behind his hand, eyes twinkling with mischief. And to her amazement, he let out a quiet little chuckle, his hand falling away from her mouth so he could cover it with his own.

They both jumped as a distant creaking sound echoed through the cavernous prison, bouncing off the concrete walls and floor. Their eyes met and she had to smile as he rolled off of her and started tugging at his jeans.

"Better get your clothes on before they all come marching in here and wanna have a damned tea party or something," he muttered, arching his hips up off the floor to pull his pants up over them, "With all that noise you were making before I could stop you, they're probably thinking a herd's coming through."

"Hey!" she feigned indignation, sitting up to scrounge around on the floor for her shirt, "You seemed to enjoy it."

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, a sly smirk tugging at his lips.

They walked back together, side-by-side, with no need for encircled arms or clasped hands. But she did enjoy the way his bare arm deliberately brushed against hers every few steps.

As she'd expected, their absence had been noted by everyone. She could see it all over their faces but they were wise enough not to say a word about it.

Well, most of them.

Glenn was standing in the doorway, eyeing them with a wide smile. Daryl nodded at him as they approached.

"Well, it looks like you're in a better mood," Glenn noted, stepping aside to let them pass.

Daryl snorted but Carol could see his cheeks growing red as he said, "What's it to ya, Short Round?"

"Nothing," Glenn answered quickly, "Nothing. It's just, you know, a nice change. To see you looking…well…happy."

"Happy?" Daryl asked incredulously and Carol saw his fists clenching at his sides as he took in the smiles on everyone's faces.

"Glowing, even," Glenn teased, wiggling his brows comically.

Daryl's mouth hung open for a moment and then he snapped it shut, growling deep in his throat as he stalked off.

"That's payback for the guard tower!" Glenn called after him, earning a very aggressively lifted middle finger in response.

Carol just shook her head, crossing the room to take Judith from a weary Beth.

"You know, I'm beginning to think that all of that attitude is just pent-up frustration," Glenn announced, "What he needs is to get laid more often."

The rest of the group tittered except for Carl who blushed furiously and ducked his head. Carol had to smile, looking after Daryl's retreating figure.

"I'll see what I can do about that."