Red ~ TWD (Daryl Dixon)

Sorry Not Sorry

"You and Daryl seem to have gotten closer."

My eyes shifted to Rick, granola bar frozen halfway to my mouth, "If we're going to have the sex talk can you draw pictures? I'm a visual learner."

He kept his face carefully blank, trying to be nonchalant, but fell about 10-miles short as I cocked an eyebrow at his lame interrogation attempt. His "casual" needed work. It was almost as bad as Daryl's which was utterly non-existent. The man was about as subtle as a train wreck, on a boat.

He rolled his eyes, sitting down beside me on the hood of a car. "Just an observation."

"Mhmm." Observation my ass. Good to know that even when the world literally stopped turning the gossip mill kept right on trucking. "You know, it's not too late to shut your mouth and mind your own business."

I popped the last bite of granola bar in my mouth as he chuckled next me.

"It's a good thing. Seeing the two of you together, it makes me remember when Lori and I first started dating." His words made me choke on what was left of my granola bar, a coughing fit forcing me to lean forward in an effort to dislodge it as he pounded on my back. "You good?"

Sipping some water I looked at him, "Are you trying to kill me?"

His eyes sparkled with amusement that was so rare these days you'd sooner find Carol without her nose shoved in porn. It would have been nice if he wasn't using the dark side of the force.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, we're just friends."

It wasn't that I was in denial as much as I was selective about the reality I choose to accept. What I felt for Daryl was anything but friendly, but I'd sooner replace my toilet paper with steel wool than admit that to Rick. Admitting it would mean facing it, and facing it would mean dealing with it. Neither of which I was ready for...whatever it was.

I wasn't a relationship guru, but compared to Daryl I could have passed as the Millionaire Matchmaker. Meaning I'd actually had one. If you could call dating someone for two straight weeks a relationship. And even that was just two weeks of sex with a few food runs sprinkled in to keep our energy up. I didn't consider that a relationship, it barely passed as a rendezvous in my book, but since all Daryl managed were a few one night stands I won this round in a landslide. Which was just sad when you thought about it. Over 60-years of life between us and Beth had more relationship experience than the two of us combined. Pathetic.

It wasn't that surprising when you thought about it. Nothing about Daryl was easy or conventional, and I had never dated anyone without a foot already out the door so right now our "relationship" amounted to us dancing around each other like we were in junior high, minus the tongue action. Sigh. Junior high sounded good right about now. I could use a little tongue action.

"I just want him safe," I admitted, squinting against the sun that was out for the first time in days, making the day somewhat tolerable temperature wise. "And naked. I wouldn't put up a fight if he was naked from time to time."

Now it was Rick's turn to sputter and choke. Ha, payback's a biotch!

"Stop, I don't need that visual." He cringed and I shrugged.

"You started it."

He laughed, "Lesson learned. Forget I mentioned it."

Fat chance of that happening. I had a naked Daryl movie playing on repeat in my head now. It was going to be a long day.

"Tell me why I'm benched again?" I asked.

"Everyone needs to be able to survive in case we ever get separated. You've been training them and they're getting better, but they need real life scenarios."