Late in the evening, well after the impromptu council meeting had broken up, Carol made her way out to the broken-down school bus where Daryl was keeping watch. Her old hobo bag swung against her hip, holding a couple of cans of tuna, one of creamed corn, and a slightly rusty can opener from the bug-out kit on the prison evacuation bus.

Daryl perched on the roof, his legs dangling over the side. She knew he was aware of her presence, but his eyes never stopped scanning the road and the woods beyond, on the alert for any sign of company.

She paused by the hood, spotting the step by the wheel well that was supposed to provide access to the engine compartment, but she couldn't quite figure out how she was supposed to get up to it on her own.

"Psst." Daryl's head swiveled in her direction, peering down at her. "Little help here?"

"Milk crate by the back wheel. Should give you enough of a boost." He kept his voice low.

Aided by the additional step, she climbed up on the hood, and Daryl rose to extend a hand to get her up on the roof.

"Brought you some dinner," she said.

"Already got you cookin' again, I see," Daryl commented.

"Opening cans is hardly cooking." She joined him at the edge, cutting open the first can of tuna. "Wait a second, I don't want to get this all over the place." She leaned out to drain the water off the canned fish, and felt herself start to slip off the roof's curved edge.

"Jesus, Carol!" Daryl's hand shot out to grab her by the waistband, dragging her back a few inches. Her heart hammering, she pushed herself back further, and looked over at him apologetically.

"Sorry, that was stupid of me. Thanks for catching me." Her relief after the close call made her get a little light-headed, and she started to giggle, covering her mouth with her hand to keep the sound in check. Daryl's grunt of exasperation only made it worse, and she laid back and wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying madly to hold in her laughter.

"If you can't be quiet, you're gonna have to go inside," he said sternly, and she turned on her side and curled into a ball, silently shaking.

Finally she ran out of air and pushed herself back upright, wiping her eyes with the heels of her hands, which she suddenly realized were still covered with the liquid from the tuna can. "Oh, great, tuna juice," she snickered, and nearly went off on another giggle fit, but Daryl's glare brought it quickly under control. "Okay. I'm okay now. Sorry," and she gulped a breath of air.

"Here, gimme the rest," Daryl ordered. She brought out the can of creamed corn, and she saw a glimmer of a smile on his face. "My favorite," he said.

"I know. I sort of pulled rank to get that for you," Carol said. "Apparently this being in charge thing has its perks."

She reached inside her jacket and brought out a single spoon and a fork. "We'll have to share. I promise I don't have any germs."

"Little late to be findin' out if you did, seein' as how we were swappin' spit a coupla hours ago."

Carol was grateful for the moonlight, since it meant he probably couldn't see the color rise in her cheeks. Yes, indeedy. Swapping spit, as he so delicately put it, and grinding on each other like a couple of horny teenagers. Probably just as well the presence of an audience kept us from going any further with it, she thought, and felt a deep pang of regret.

They sat companionably, passing the cans and utensils back and forth, still keeping an eye out for potential trouble. It was a familiar scene, eating from cans, just as they'd done throughout those lean months after the farm, before they'd found the prison and started to rebuild some sort of stability. And now that had been ripped away, leaving them a pack of scavengers once again, combing through the bones of the old world for the bare means of survival. Carol felt a wave of despair slash through her, and wondered if she had the resilience to do it all over again.

She shivered, and felt Daryl's attention on her. "You cold?" he asked.

"Mm. Not really." She wanted him to put his arm around her, but felt inexplicably shy about asking for such a public display of his affection, despite the dark, and despite how he'd been with her earlier. It was silly, but they'd spent too much time dancing around this thing between them for her to take it for granted that he'd be comfortable with it.

He shifted closer to where she sat, and she leaned toward him, not only for the warmth he was putting out, but just wanting… closeness. He was all business, though, never losing his focus on the task at hand.

"How much longer are you supposed to be out here?" she wondered aloud.

"Not sure. Couple hours, maybe. Glenn's up next. Why?"

"No reason, really, I just… oh, Daryl, because I just want to go somewhere off in a corner and curl up next to you and feel safe for a little while. It's sort of ridiculous, really. I'm safer right this minute than I have been in a week, but it would make me feel better if I could fall asleep and know that you're right there. I've been missing you so badly it hurt." She had no more patience for artifice and side-stepping. She just wanted to be with her man, and have him hold her again like he had earlier. Her skin had been hungry for him for so long, and the little time they'd had together earlier in the day had only intensified the longing. She knew there wouldn't be any opportunity for them to be intimate with each other, not in the wide-open space of the depot, but she'd take whatever she could get for the moment.

"Ah, Carol, honey…" He slid over and put his arm around her waist, kissing the side of her head. "I hate thinkin' of you bein' out there, feelin' like a lost soul. I'm so sorry I didn't do right by you."

"You stop that kind of thinking right now, Daryl." Her voice got a little sharp. "We've been over this once. I told you I don't hold it against you, and I meant it. You had other things to take care of. I'm talking about now, and from here out. No more regrets about what we did or didn't do for each other in the past."

"I got a lot of regrets, though, Carol. Not just that I didn't come find you when the prison fell. I shoulda stepped up a long time ago and told you how it was for me. I shoulda told you I loved you. Shoulda told you every day, and kissed you every day, so you'd know it, instead of bein' a fool and holdin' back."

The sweet simplicity of his admission undid her, and tears welled up in Carol's eyes. She dabbed at them with her sleeve, not wanting to spoil the moment by making him uncomfortable. "That doesn't matter anymore, Daryl. We're here, together, and I know you love me." Saying those words made her realize - she hadn't said them herself, not out loud, and it made her laugh, softly.

"I'm such an idiot. Daryl Dixon, I am crazy mad in love with you, and I'm sorry I didn't say that until now."