Walking Dead 1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the world of The Walking Dead. _(But it doesn't stop me from dreaming about Rick Grimes!)_

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><p>A Breath of Hope<p>

Walking along the quiet back country road, Maggie hears the birds singing from the Georgia treetops but the sound seems so surreal. Don't they know that the world has twisted off its axis once again? Can't they feel the void that her father's death has left. The feeling is so unreal and has left her numb, which is preferable to giving in to the debilitating grief of losing her dad.

She can't break down now, not yet. She has to find shelter for her travelling companions – the two most important men left in her life. Carl is in the lead, walking slightly ahead and to the right of Rick. Maggie is on Rick's left, striding slightly behind him. They trudge along, subconsciously keeping their wounded leader between them, protecting him in his weakened state.

The couple of water bottles and stale cookies and chips they'd found at a gas station won't hold them over for long. They need to find food to keep up their strength as well. Armed with only three guns and two knives between them, she prays that every walker in the area will be heading toward the sounds of all the gunfire and the smoke from the burning guard tower, leaving them a clear path to a safe neighborhood before nightfall. She is hopeful but the pace is slow-going with Rick's pronounced limp and labored breathing. She has never seen him this physically battered before and it scares her. It scares her almost as much as the defeated look in his heartbroken eyes. That terrifies her.

She had tried to ease his mind with the fact that she'd seen Daryl getting Beth and Judith into the Hyundai that was parked on the far side of the prison. She knew her sister would convince Daryl to go back to the farm, the one place they would all remember.

Her sister often talked about their old home and wanting to go back someday to see if the house still stood among the majestic oaks and sprawling pastures. If the house had survived the onslaught of walkers that drove their group away that fateful night, it would provide adequate shelter while they re-grouped to figure out their next move. She just prayed that Carol would think of it as well and lead Sasha, Tyreese and Michonne to their old doorstep, assuming they had all escaped together. 'Please God let them be safe' was a constant mantra at the back of her mind while the morning's attack weighed heavily at the forefront.

_The sound of all the gunfire and screaming was nothing like she'd ever heard before. She had seen many so-called gunfights in a variety of action movies, but nothing compared to actually being in the middle of a real live fucking battle. _

_It was complete chaotic madness - and absolutely terrifying._

_Trying to keep a level head after witnessing her father's murder was incredibly hard, but she had no choice if they were going to survive the day._

_Knowing her sister was safe with Daryl and her father already gone, Maggie took off to find the one person she cared about the most. She rounded the corner of the guard tower and saw Rick fighting the devil himself in a hand-to-hand battle. She sprinted toward the field where their vegetable garden had been flourishing before being trampled by the unlikely soldiers that this world created._

_She knew Rick was at a disadvantage with his already sprained right hand, and screamed when she watched the Governor grab and twist his bandaged hand to flip him onto his back. Her feet couldn't move fast enough as the bastard straddled Rick, attempting to choke the life out of him._

_If Maggie wasn't so intently focused on the two men on the ground of the prison field, she would have seen Michonne storm in from the right of her peripheral view to put an end to the son of a bitch. But the only thing Maggie registered was a dark blur and then a wicked looking katana protruding from the fiend's black-hearted chest._

_Maggie and Carl helped Rick to his feet as Michonne had rushed off toward the sound of her whinnying horse._

_~ / ~ _

They have been walking for what feels like days but has most likely only been two or three hours, heading in the direction of the Greene farm. It will take them several days to get there on foot, especially with Rick's condition slowing them down.

Maggie hopes they will come across a vehicle with a decent amount of gas, but she is not too confident with the lack of cars on these back roads. They would have better luck finding something on one of the busier highways, but that also meant a greater risk of running into the undead, who seemed to congregate in those areas.

Looking back, she thinks they were foolish to concentrate all their worries on the threat of walkers. They had gotten so comfortable behind the fences, which in the end only provided a false sense of security.

She can't believe that it was only a few nights ago that she and Rick sat on the deck of the guard tower talking and joking around. With all that has happened, that feels like a lifetime ago. He has been her rock for the past year, her lifeline in this hellish world. She just prays she can get him back.

_It was a beautiful cloudless night with a full moon and thousands of stars gazing down, shining hopeful and sympathetic on what was left of the world. _

_One of the few bonuses of this new earth, Maggie pondered as she sat on the deck of the guard tower, was the absence of smog hanging over their cities to dull the shine of the heavenly skies. There were many starry nights growing up on the farm, but none compare to the views they see now. She was extremely grateful to be alive after her close call that morning, so tonight's vision was even more deeply appreciated. _

_Having just relieved Sasha and Tyreese, Maggie was waiting for Carol to join her for their four hour shift. After a few minutes alone, she heard boots on the steps that sounded much heavier than Carol's size six. As well as she knew that the sun would rise in the east, she knew those footfalls and the bow-legged man who created them. Maggie was not surprised at all when the hatch opened and she saw a head full of dark brown wavy locks instead of short gray ones._

"_Hey," Rick greeted her as he stepped out onto the deck of the tower, armed and ready to defend their camp. _

"_Hi, what are you doing here? Carol's on the schedule with me tonight," she claimed, shifting her rifle from her lap to prop it against the railing._

"_Yeah, I know. But she's been with Judy all day while I finally caught a few hours of sleep, so I told her I would take her shift tonight. I knew she'd be dead on her feet and I'm wide awake," he explained. "Besides, it's been a long time since we've had a chance to hang out, so here I am," he said, smiling with a boyish tilt to his head as he eased down into the empty seat beside her. He placed his lantern on the floor next to him and doused the unnecessary light._

"_And your little fan club has been hot on your heels so you came up here to hide," she teased about the several females from the Woodbury group who tended to follow Rick around as much as they could get away with. The most persistent being a sixteen year old and a pushing-sixty year old, much to his chagrin. _

"_Oh Lord, don't remind me. Thank God they obey the curfew at least."_

"_You know, you'll have to let somebody catch you someday," she said lightheartedly, enjoying his company._

"_Well someday ain't happenin' any time soon, so drop it. What about you and Jack? Didn't he ask you out?" He nudged her elbow with his._

"_He did," she replied, studying the worn out hem of her dark gray hoodie._

"_And…?"_

"_We're just friends," she responded tightly. "And now we're dropping it like you wanted."_

"_Fine," he agreed, relieved by her answer more than he cared to admit. Jack is a good guy, but he's not good enough for her._

"_Who's with Judy now?" Maggie asked in hopes of changing the subject, already knowing the likely answer._

"_Beth's got her. Thank God for your sister. I don't know what I would do without her and Carol," Rick replied genuinely._

_She nodded agreeably, trying to swallow back the feeling of jealousy clogging her throat. "I was so relieved when Dad told me Judy's fever had finally broken. I can only imagine how you must have felt." _

"_Yeah, relieved is the understatement of the year. You know…," he trailed off, carefully weighing his words in his mind before letting them free on his tongue. "I know that there's barely a one percent chance that she is actually my daughter," he declared, voice thick with emotion. "She didn't choose her parents, but she's stuck with me… and I feel so incredibly lucky to have her. Does that make me a total chump?" he asked with his stuttering heart on his sleeve for all the cruelness of the world to see._

"_No Rick, that makes you a daddy," she responded tenderly._

_She saw a myriad of emotions cross his features, from regret to relief and then ending with pride. He recovered quickly to replace those feelings with plain old satisfaction._

"_Thanks," he said with a crooked smile filled with complete sincerity. He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out to rest his boots on the railing in front of him. He looked out into the night, feigning nonchalance, but she knew the emotional turmoil bubbling just below the surface of his expression of quiet content._

"_Okay, Grimes, it's game time," Maggie announced, luring Rick out of his tumultuous thoughts. "Give me three things that are better these days."_

"_Alright," he chuckled, happy for the distraction._

"_I'll go first to give you time to think," she began. "It's so nice not worrying about going over my minutes on my cell phone."_

"_Okay," he thought. "It's so nice not havin' to stand behind someone with 18 items in the 14 or less line at the grocery."_

"_It's so nice not wanting to throw my laptop out the window every time it crashes," she added._

"_It's so nice not having telemarketers annoy us in the middle of dinner," he exclaimed, enjoying their little game._

"_It's so nice not getting pulled over for speeding by a moody cop," she teased._

"_Hey, I was never moody on the job," he claimed with laughter in his eyes. "At home maybe, but never on the job!" he said with a grin splitting his face despite his efforts to give her an evil glower._

"_Okay, okay," she apologized. "It must have been your friends."_

"_How many times did you get pulled over?" he asked curiously. _

"_More than my Daddy knows, or ever will know," she answered threateningly._

"_That many, huh?"_

"_More than one, less than ten. Let's just leave it at that."_

"_Good Lord," he laughed. "And you never lost your license? What, so you just batted your beautiful eyes and stuck out your chest and drove away without _ever_ gettin' a ticket?" he asked incredulously. _

"_Worked every time," she beamed. "C'mon, it's your turn. Last one so make it good."_

"_Okay," he said, shaking his head in awe. "It's so nice not worryin' about the TV reception goin' out in the middle of a Superbowl."_

"_Hey, you used that one before!" she protested._

"_Well, it's a very important one."_

"_I don't care, give me something else."_

"_Alright…it's nice not gettin' pissed off when the Christmas lights are only half lit after spending four hours stringing 'em up," he finished._

"_Yes it is," she agreed reflectively, looking into his eyes. "Thanks for taking watch with me tonight, Rick."_

"_You're welcome," he replied, breaking eye contact when he reached over to take her thin wrist in his warm hand. He carefully pushed the sleeve of her sweatshirt up her forearm, revealing a large white bandage. Although he knew it would be there, the sight still troubled him, thinking that it could have ended much much worse._

"_Daryl told you what happened on our run this morning?" she asked accusingly, trying to hide the guilt from her face while he gently held her injured arm._

"_He mentioned somethin' about having to save your ass after you disregarded your own safety to help that Zack kid," he replied with more composure than he actually felt inside._

"_It wasn't a big deal," she defended herself. "I just tripped over a stupid box and cut my arm on the corner of a shelf. The walker never even got that close to me before Daryl killed it. It could have happened to anyone."_

"_I don't give a fuck about 'anyone'," he quickly responded. "Christ, Maggie, please don't put yourself in that situation again," he implored, blue eyes boring into hers, begging for a promise they both knew was impossible to keep._

"_I'm sorry," she said with mixed feelings. She was delighted at the concern in his gaze, but regretful for being the source of his worry. She knew he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and she hated the fact that she had just added a few more ounces._

"_Speaking of Daryl, he seemed better today" she continued, hoping to recover the lighter mood they'd just been sharing._

"_Yeah," Rick coughed, releasing Maggie's arm. "He'll be okay. He's tough."_

"_I know, but it can't be easy losing your only brother, even if he was a total dick. At least he still has you," she said, missing the feel of his hands on her skin._

"_He has all of us," Rick clarified._

"_Yes, but you are more a brother to him than Merle ever was," she stated. "You are his brother in every sense that matters." _

_Rick looked out into the stillness of the night, contemplating what Maggie had just said. He'd never given much thought to his relationship with the other man, it was just something that evolved over time out of necessity more than anything else. Still, her words sank in and he realized deep in his heart that it was true, and he found comfort in that._

"_So there's one more nice thing that this virus created," Maggie continued, elbowing him gently to keep the mood light. "You know that you and Daryl would never have crossed paths in the old world. Unless he was bailing his dickhead brother out of your jail. Even then I doubt you would have struck up a conversation. It's funny how fate plays its little games. You probably never imagined that Shane would ever betray you, and you'd end up being brothers with a redneck," she finished wistfully, laying her head against his shoulder to soften the painful reminder of his late best friend. "Yeah, he'll be alright. He's got you and Little Asskicker. He may hang on your every word Sheriff, but that little girl of yours has got him wrapped around her tiny finger."_

_Rick smiled, tilting his head to rest on hers, thinking that sometimes this life wasn't so bad after all._


	2. Chapter 2

As their shadows grow longer with the descending sun, they decide to look for shelter in a neighborhood off of Cove Road. The street is lined on either side with colonial and bi-level homes, mostly identical except for the colors. Even the trendy, if overgrown, landscaping is very similar from lawn to lawn.

They bypass the first three homes due to the offensive odors emanating from the broken windows. The fourth house is a beige bi-level with hunter green shutters encasing dirty but undamaged windows on the second floor, and board-covered windows on the ground level. It looked like the homeowner did a decent job of securing his house before leaving to go God knows where. Perhaps he just set out in search of answers.

The name on the useless mailbox reads 'Roberts' and the welcome sign on the porch seems inviting despite the boarded up window flanking the front door. Finding the door locked, they follow a stone path around to the driveway and double garage doors. After checking the fenced in back yard, Rick and Maggie have their pistols trained at the bottom of the first bay door while Carl grips the handle and pulls it up a few inches. With no sudden movement on the other side, he lifts it all the way up on its thankfully greased tracks until it is hovering just below the ceiling. They enter the two car garage, now filled with remnants of an age gone by.

The fading sunlight shines into the bay revealing a riding lawn mower, an array of rakes and shovels and other gardening tools, two adult bicycles and two smaller kid sized bikes along with a large bin filled with baseball bats, gloves, tennis rackets and an assortment of balls.

They walk past a dried up oil stain on the floor. Probably from an SUV or minivan, which is what this family would have needed, Rick imagines, from the looks of all the sports equipment on the other side of the garage.

Despite his exhaustion, his cop instincts take over and Rick can't help but wonder why there isn't a second car in the driveway. Why didn't this family leave together in one car? Did Mr. Roberts send his wife and kids to a shelter while he stayed behind to defend their home? Did one car run out of fuel forcing them to ditch it on the side of the road somewhere like millions of other unfortunate beings?

Whatever their story, he can't help them now and he just wishes he could stop worrying about all this shit for a little while. One day to block it all out for blissful ignorance. He's so fucking tired.

From the corner of his eye, he catches Carl take a quick glance at the baseball equipment and then continue on to the door leading into the house.

It breaks Rick's heart that he can't give his son the same carefree childhood that he'd had growing up. Carl loved playing baseball back in King County but now it's as if he doesn't even remember that a bat was used for something other than a weapon. These days, instead of shooting harmless monsters to outscore his friends in a mindless video game, he's had to learn to shoot the real thing to save his very life. The hardness now present in the eyes of his fourteen year old son is just one more thing eating away at his weary soul.

Carl slowly opens the door on creaky hinges and listens for movement on the other side. Hearing nothing but his father's arduous breathing behind him, Carl opens the door all the way and takes a step into a dark hallway.

"Hang on, Carl." Rick stops him from proceeding further into the darkness. He switches on a slim black flashlight that he'd found sitting on a tool chest when they first entered the garage and steps around his son to take the lead. The beam of light cuts into the darkness and they resume walking stealthily down the short hallway into a large family room.

There are boards nailed in front of the windows, doubly enforcing security with those nailed on the outside of the house, permitting only faint light to seep through the cracks. The flashlight beam also reveals two large pieces of plywood covering sliding doors on the back wall and a loveseat that is pushed up against the wood. The gloomy darkness creates a subterranean feel to the room but Rick is impressed with the measures that this guy had taken to fortify his home. They check a laundry room on the right side of the hall and a small bathroom off of the large den, where they are happy to find another flashlight and a bottle of bug spray.

After clearing the first level, the waning sunlight from the second story windows invites them up the steps to a landing by the front door, and then up again to the second floor which contains a decent sized kitchen, a dining room/living room combination and three bedrooms and a bath down a hallway to the right.

~ / ~

Maggie is the first to reach the top floor. She steps into the kitchen with her arms locked, gun ready to fire, although she doubts the need for it with the complete stillness of the house. Walking across the linoleum floor toward the dining room, she spots a wall calendar with a picture of a pretty beach and a lot of notes written in the small squares below it. Apparently Jenny and Matt Roberts kept their parents very busy seventeen months ago. She thinks back to what would have been on her own calendar before The Turn. Having just graduated from college with a business degree, she had been job hunting while helping her father run the farm and assisting with the occasional four legged patient. Though he had retired from his practice a few years before, people still brought their sick animals to his door and he could never turn them away. God, she misses those days.

While Rick and Carl clear the bedrooms, Maggie opens the pale blue curtains in the living room to gain more light, and cracks the windows a few inches to release some of the stale air that's been trapped inside for all these months. From this vantage point she looks out across the neighborhood for any signs of life - the actual living or the reanimated used-to-be's. Except for the miscellaneous pieces of trash blowing around like tumbleweeds in this modern day ghost town, it appears pretty quiet. She hopes it stays that way.

Maggie leaves her post to help the Grimes' down the hall. She stops in front of the first bedroom on the right and sees Carl inspecting the contents of a bookcase. The blue paint on the walls and dinosaur blanket on the bed tells her this must have been Matt's room. She lingers a moment and then continues on to the master bedroom. The raised blinds let in enough light for her to admire the pretty furniture among the burgundy and cream color scheme. The big king sized bed in the center of the room looks extremely inviting, even with its slightly dusty rumpled sheets – they've slept on much worse. But there is work to do so she cracks the windows and then heads toward the noise coming from the master bathroom. She finds Rick standing in front of an opened medicine cabinet, several small orange bottles lying in the sink in front of him and another in his hand that he is trying to pry open.

"Anything good?" Maggie asks, walking around him in the spacious bathroom to open the window for all the fresh air they can get.

"It would be if I could get the damn cap off," he grumbles, flexing his injured hand in between attempts to unscrew the childproof lid on a bottle of painkillers.

"Here, let me," Maggie returns to him with a palm open to receive the uncooperative bottle of pills prescribed to one Mark Roberts.

"Thanks," he puts the frustrating item in her hand.

"Here," Maggie places two capsules in his palm which he immediately tosses into his mouth. She hands him her water bottle to swallow them down. "Why don't you see if there's anything to eat in the kitchen while I finish going through these cabinets."

As Rick heads to the kitchen in search of nourishment, she finishes searching through the bathroom supplies. A few minutes later, she has a small stockpile of items to go along with the pain relief medications that Rick had already pulled out, including antibiotic cream, bandages, first aid tape and sunscreen. Though skin cancer was the least of their worries these days, she thought it may be useful for their own comfort if they have to walk the whole way back to the farm in the hot Georgia sun.

Wanting to wash her hands, she turns the handle on the faucet not knowing what to expect. If the house had utilized well water, they would be out of luck. Releasing the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, she pumps the liquid soap dispenser and washes her hands under the stream of city water cascading into the sink.

With the nights getting chillier, she opens the ottoman that sits at the end of the bed and pulls out a multicolored quilt. She shakes it out and then places it at the bottom of the bed, ready for use if the sheets are not enough.

When she is done in the bedroom, Maggie walks to the kitchen praying with every step that the boys found some decent food to fight the hunger pangs screaming for attention inside her body.

She enters the kitchen where Rick and Carl are sitting at the table sharing a box of expired granola bars and a large bottle of warm grape juice. There is an assortment of edible items on the countertop but none that look very appealing. She chooses the box of protein enriched corn flakes over the crackers, Vienna sausages, baked beans, ramen noodles, sardines and an enormous can of chocolate pudding. Taking a glass from the open cabinet above the worthless microwave, she pours herself some grape juice and takes a seat at the table.

"Why don't you go lay down before you pass out in your dinner," she tells Rick. "The bed looks comfortable and there's a fresh change of clothes on the chair for you," she adds, referring to the dark gray running pants and white tee shirt she'd found to fit his lean frame.

"Yeah, thanks." He sluggishly gets to his feet and limps out of the kitchen.

"He's gonna be alright, isn't he?" Carl asks her, all the lost innocence swimming toward the surface of his gaze.

"Sure…" She smiles for his benefit but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Eventually," she finishes more honestly, but even that doesn't sound very convincing to her own ears.

"Do you really think your sister will be at the farm with Daryl and Judy?" he probes, hope and skepticism at odds in his voice.

This time the smile does reach her eyes as she looks directly into his. "Yes, I do. I know my sister and that's exactly where she would go. Daryl will do as she says just to shut her up." Maggie adds, happy to get a smile out of her young friend.

"Yeah, he's not big on talking sometimes," the boy snickers. "I just hope Judy isn't giving him too much trouble," he adds in a more solemn tone.

"I'm sure your little sister is having a ball with Uncle Daryl at the farm," she grins, hoping to ease the worried look that he is trying so hard to hide.

"When do you think we'll get there?"

"Well I honestly think that will depend on whether or not we find a car. If we can't drive there, your dad will need a few days here to recuperate before we start walking again. On foot, it will take us several days to get there."

"It'll be cool to see the farm again," Carl says lightly as his hand automatically reaches down to cover his belly, feeling for the scar through his thin tee shirt. He remembers those days in Hershel's home, recovering from the gunshot wound that they never thought he would survive. "But it won't be the same without your dad," he utters, somber once again.

"No, it won't." Maggie gets up to put their empty glasses in the sink, silently wiping her damp eyes on her sleeve.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Come on, let's go check out the shed."


	3. Chapter 3

Losing Rick today hurt as much as losing Merle last week. Daryl prayed to a God that he never truly trusted that Rick made it out of the prison alive. It killed him to leave his friend behind but Rick had made it clear to him on several occasions that if anything ever happened to him, Daryl had to keep his kids safe. It was an honor that he cherished, but one that he hoped never to have to fulfill.

Driving out of the prison was the hardest thing he'd ever done. The only comfort was the fact that he had seen Michonne driving her katana through the Governor's back and Maggie gaining ground on them with Carl right on her heels.

If they went out through the main gate, they could have made it he thought. The majority of the walkers were filing in on the other side, which made it difficult for him to navigate out of the prison himself.

When he finally cleared the prison and its new inhabitants, he made his way back around to the main entrance hoping to pick up the others. Looking through the fences he'd felt sick. Dead civilians spoiled the grounds, soon to be joining the ranks of walkers drifting about the prison yard. It looked like they had hit all of the Governor's people, but lost quite a few of their own as well, mostly those from Woodbury. The biggest loss however was Hershel. He was a tough son of bitch and Daryl was going to miss him terribly.

Looking around for his friends, his heart sank when he saw only death and destruction in front of them. Beth's soft crying had broken into his desolate thoughts. He was actually surprised that Little Asskicker hadn't been crying herself. She was sleeping peacefully in Beth's tight embrace, thankfully oblivious to everything that had happened to them.

"We gotta get outta here," he murmured sadly.

"The farm. We have to go back to the farm," she said, tears running down her cheeks. "It's the best place to go. Maggie will think so too. She'll bring Rick there. It's the last place we were all together before we spent the winter on the road. It was our last home before the prison. You know it will be clear of walkers by now," she pleaded.

"Alright, we'll check it out. I don't have any better ideas," he responded dejectedly.

~ / ~

Steering down the long dirt driveway leading back to the Greene family farm, they notice several fences down surrounding the shell of what's left of the burned out barn. The grass is overgrown, but it looks like the house is still standing from what he can see. Daryl takes one full lap around the house to check the perimeter, and then pulls the Hyundai up near the front porch and shifts it into park.

"Stay in the car," he tells Beth before getting out to retrieve his crossbow from the backseat where it was lying next to the stocked diaper bag that Beth had been smart enough to grab on her way out. He walks up the brick steps leading to the wide wraparound porch expecting to find a few railings broken or bent at the very least. He is amazed to see that the house looks untouched. With no living flesh inside to attract them, the wandering monstrosities must have bypassed the structure completely. He peers through a window looking into an empty sitting room, then slowly opens the unlocked front door.

With searching eyes and silent footsteps, the hunter goes from room to room checking every nook and cranny for any sign of trouble. After inspecting the entire house and finding it blessedly empty, he locates the linen closet upstairs and takes a thick blue and yellow afghan from the pile of blankets and sheets. Since they didn't have time to grab the Pack N Play, they were going to have to improvise. He takes the blanket through Hershel's old bedroom and into the adjoining master bath. After shaking it out to remove any unwanted dust, he lays the soft blanket in the bottom of the tub and stands up to inspect his handiwork. It would have been nice to have a baby monitor, but at least the absence of noise these days makes it easier to hear a crying baby, even in a house as large as this. The tiled floor and walls of the bathroom should also help with amplifying her cries.

Satisfied that his Little Asskicker will be comfortable here, he retraces his footsteps back out to the car.

Beth crosses the threshold with mixed feelings: Incredible relief at finding her house virtually untouched, and overwhelming sadness that her father will never set foot in their home again.

"It looks exactly as I remember it," she says softly, as though not to disturb the memories they had left behind.

"C'mon, bring Asskicker upstairs."

Her footsteps echo Daryl's as she follows him up the stairs and into her father's bedroom. She chokes back a sob and fights the tears when she sees his good watch along with a couple of small family pictures sitting forgotten in their dusty frames on the dresser.

Uncomfortable with emotional turmoil, Daryl looks everywhere but at her face, afraid his own grief will surface amid Hershel's personal belongings. "In here," he calls out walking into the bathroom.

Beth drags her watery eyes away from her father's things, takes a deep calming breath and marches into the bathroom on Daryl's orders.

After settling Judy to finish her nap in the bathtub, Beth and Daryl stroll through the house opening all the windows to air out the months of musty air trapped inside.

While Daryl adds gasoline to the generator out back, Beth checks the kitchen to take inventory of their stock. After throwing away the rotten fruit that had been left on the table, she finds enough food in the cabinets to last them a little while. Their biggest concern is going to be getting more formula for the baby. They will have to make a run within the week.

* * *

><p>After losing to Carl in a heated marathon of Chinese checkers, Maggie leaves him in the living room with a Harry Potter book and his championship trophy - the enormous can of chocolate pudding.<p>

She walks quietly down the hall to check on Rick, who is snoring softly in the big master bed. He is lying on his back, head on the pillow, hands folded on his stomach…dirty boots on the colorful quilt.

She looks down at the tattered clothes he must have been too exhausted to change out of. She wishes she could have gotten him out of the dirty garments first, but doesn't have the heart to wake him now. She does take the liberty of removing his worn out boots and once-white socks though, letting his poor tired feet enjoy some freedom. She thinks she hears an almost imperceptible "thank you" mumbled from the head of the bed.

Silently, she watches him sleep and thinks he looks quite a bit younger without the stress lines that were usually evident around his incredibly blue eyes. Even battered and beaten, his handsome face still fed the butterflies that came alive in her belly when she was this close to him.

She doesn't remember the exact moment when she started having these feelings toward her best friend. It was something that had built up gradually over the past few months. Each time she watched him give his son a well-deserved pat on the back, and rocked his daughter to sleep in his strong arms softly singing 'Do Wah Diddy'. Every time he laughed at awful red-neck jokes with Daryl, and fearlessly led all the people who looked to him as their leader - whether he wanted to or not. Watching him day in and day out, thinking of everyone else before himself and filling the shoes he was born to walk in. She loved him more and more with every breath.

Taking advantage of his semi-catatonic state, Maggie studies his face and takes in all of the scrapes, cuts and variety of discolored bruises decorating his sharp features, as well as the parts of his chest and arms that were bared to her. She suspects he has some bruised ribs, if not broken, by the way he was breathing earlier. He will be sore as hell for a few days but she didn't see anything that looked life-threatening. According to Rick, even the gunshot wound on his leg wasn't too bad; the bullet just took off a small chunk of flesh and continued on to find a more solid target. She wanted to clean and dress his wounds to help start the healing process, but she knew sleep was even more important for a worn out body to heal itself. So she would let him sleep - God knew he needed it.

Maggie's light green eyes were admiring his slightly hairy, well-toned chest when they glance back up to his neck. The image there stops her heart. When she sees the finger-shaped bruises, she realizes just how close she'd come to losing him. That was all it took for the dam behind her eyes to finally crumble and let the tears spill free that she had been holding in all day. With a fist between her teeth and an arm across her belly, hunched over she quietly cries for the home that they had lost and the family and friends that were missing. She weeps for the loss of the life they had worked so hard to build. She mourns for her father.

When her tears are spent and exhaustion is trying to settle itself comfortably into her bones, she goes into the master bathroom to splash water on her face. When she looks into the mirror above the sink, her swollen eyes reveal how filthy she had become from everything that had happened that day. Not wanting to go back to those unhappy thoughts, she decides to clean herself up for a fresh start.

While Rick sleeps, she gathers a few towels from the linen closet and some clothes from Mrs. Roberts' dresser - now full of hand-me-downs. She discards her filthy garments and grabs the small bar of soap and travel size shampoo she'd found under the sink. She steps into the shower hoping that the icy water will remove the worst of the dirt and grime, as well as the memory of all they had lost that day.

When she is clean enough - and can stand the cold water no longer - she towels her shoulder length brown hair to dry it as best she can and dresses in her new outfit, feeling fairly refreshed in a pair of black yoga pants and a soft cranberry V-neck tee shirt.

Letting Rick sleep for a few more minutes, Maggie goes out to the living room to check on Carl. She sees his gangly form splayed along the couch with Harry Potter forgotten across his stomach as he sleeps. Like his father, he also looks younger without the pressures of this cruel world etched into the planes of his face. She also notices the empty container that once held 112 oz. of chocolate pudding sitting on the coffee table next to the couch. She chuckles at the childishness of it and hopes his sweet victory doesn't cause him to wake up with a belly ache.

Maggie gently removes the book from under his loose grip and sets it on the table next to his flashlight and the empty pudding container. She finds an afghan on the back of a comfortable looking recliner and shakes the dust off before laying it over the boy.

Going back to the bedroom, Maggie is determined to tend to their leader whether he is awake or not. She needs to clean him up before she collapses into a bed of her own.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I hope you all enjoyed that wonderful weekend of Walking Dead. Many thanks to my friendly reviewers and a very special thank you to my dear friend Ariel (AKA Bluecrush611) for her editing skills and for convincing me to write a one shot that turned into fifteen chapters. Here is the next installment. I hope you like it. Please let me know…**

* * *

><p>Chapter Four<p>

Tyreese steps over a fallen tree that is lying across their path. He waits for his sister and Carol to catch up after stopping to refill their water bottles in the flowing stream. The woods are quiet and peaceful, contrary to the turmoil bubbling inside of him. They lost a lot of people today. They lost their home. Their friends are scattered and all he can think about is finding Michonne. He hopes to God that she is waiting for him at the cabin. Their cabin.

She'd found it a couple of months ago during one of her outings and she brought him back the very next day. It wasn't much but it afforded some privacy that was hard to find living with over thirty people under one roof. They cleaned it up and continued to use it once or twice a week, when they could get away.

"Whether she is at the cabin or not, we are going to the farm from there," Carol says. "Right, Tyreese?" she asks the dark skinned man for confirmation of her plan.

"She'll be there," he says adamantly.

"I hope so," the gray haired woman responds, wanting to get to Hershel's farm as quickly as possible so she can hold Judith in her arms again.

"Are you sure you even remember how to get to this farm?" Sasha asks Carol.

"My daughter is buried there. Beth will have Judy there. I'll find it," she answers assuredly, lifting her arm and ducking her head to walk beneath a low hanging branch on the narrow path. "I'm not losing another child," she vows solemnly under her breath, daring God Himself to argue with her. She will miss Lizzie and Mika after growing close with them over the last few months, but knows their father will take care of them - assuming that Sasha was correct when she said she saw them running toward the woods on the eastern side of the prison.

"How much further is it Ty?" Sasha asks her brother as she constantly turns her head to watch for threats along their journey.

"Maybe a mile."

"So how long have you and Michonne been sneaking up here, anyway? And for the record, I knew something was going on between you two! It's so cute." Sasha adds in a high-pitched sugary voice.

"It hasn't been that long," the big man answers, rolling his eyes at his sisters teasing.

"Are you in love with her?" she probes, her voice now filled with concern for her brother.

"Maybe… yeah, I think so." He nods his head as if he is finally accepting it himself.

"Does she feel the same?"

"I'm not sure," he responds, quietly considering the question. "I think I make her happy. I guess I'll know if we find her waiting at the cabin for me." He smiles with hope in his dark eyes.

They come over a rise in the forest and Carol spots a single walker about 20 yards away, stumbling through the trees in their direction. "I got it." She pulls a knife from her boot and closes the distance between herself and the rotting corpse that is now snarling at them. She stops it with one hand on its chest and a quick jab to the center of its head, sinking the blade deep into the brain of what used to be a woman, from the looks of the filthy, torn clothing that hangs loosely from its emaciated frame. Wiping the knife on her jeans, Carol returns to her comrades to continue the trek to Michonne's hideaway.

About forty minutes later, Sasha sees a dwelling up ahead, sitting on a small patch of land next to a good sized lake. "Is that it?" she asks.

"Yes," he answers, craning his neck to look for any sign of Michonne.

Nearing the cabin, they take a wide berth around toward the front, not wanting to give themselves away in case there were strangers inside. As they work their way around, they spot a large brown horse tied to a tree on the far side of the building.

After his heart skips a beat, Tyreese whistles a long high pitch followed by two short notes. In a flash, the cabin door is thrown open and the dark woman with long dreadlocks and intense eyes is enfolded in his thick arms, hugging him like she will never let him go. "I knew you would come."

"I guess maybe she loves you too," Sasha says brightly, surprised to see such an emotional reaction from the woman they all considered to be a tough warrior.

Michonne quickly backs up, stepping out of his embrace at the sound of Sasha's voice. She tries to play it off, but soon realizes that she isn't fooling anyone. Not anymore. She smiles shyly at the astonished Carol and Sasha, and then jumps back into the arms of her lover.

When he sets her down a few moments later, she levels the other women with a stare that could probably freeze hell if she wanted it to. "Not a word or I will gut you both." She lifts her chin, takes Ty's hand and walks calmly into the cabin, leaving Sasha and Carol to exchange a glance that tells each other they are both more comfortable with this Michonne, the warrior that they have been living with for the better part of a year.

* * *

><p>In the quiet neighborhood off of Cove Road, the sun's final rays are shining down, bathing the bedroom in a soft orange glow, the shadows beginning their search for the darker corners.<p>

Rick is still sleeping and Maggie would like nothing more than to just sit and enjoy looking at him in such a peaceful state. Unfortunately, that won't help either of them so she sits on the edge of the bed and calls his name softly, gently prodding his shoulder in hopes of bringing him around. His lack of response told her just how worn down Rick was - any other day his police training and cat-like reflexes would have had him on high alert the moment she touched the bed. The moments tick by and he finally opens his eyes to connect with hers, cerulean blue meeting spruce green.

"Is everything okay? Where's Carl?" he asks quickly. Of course he would worry about them first thing.

"He's asleep on the couch in the living room. Everything's fine. I'm sorry to wake you but we really need to get your wounds cleaned up so they don't get infected," she says, reaching for the antibiotic cream she'd left on the bedside table earlier. "Can you take your shirt off? Do you need help?"

"No, I think I can manage." He sits up with a grimace and proceeds to undo the few buttons that still adorn his ragged shirt. He shrugs his shoulders to free himself of the garment and groans at the stiffness that has settled between his shoulder blades.

Maggie leans over and takes hold of the shirt to pull it down off of his shoulders despite his refusal of help. She tosses it onto the floor and gets a good look at his bare chest and shoulders. Being this close to him in such a state has the butterflies in her stomach doing somersaults in triple time, but she has enough wits about her to realize that he is filthy.

"I, uh, think we need to scrub you down," she stammers, placing the ointment back on the table and getting to her feet. "Can you stand up?"

"Yeah, just give me a second to get rid of the cobwebs in my head."

He slowly swings his legs over the side of the bed to place his bare feet on the floor, worming his toes into the soft carpet. The puzzled look on his face tells her he's trying to remember when he had taken off his boots and socks.

"The water's cold but at least its wet and there's plenty of soap," she calls over her shoulder as she walks into the bathroom. She picks up a washcloth and holds it under the faucet, drenching the material.

After a few moments, he limps into the bathroom and slowly sits down on the closed toilet.

"Cobwebs?"

"Yeah, but it's getting better."

After squeezing out the excess water, Maggie rubs a good amount of soap into the fabric and begins to wash the dirt from his shoulders. He flinches slightly at the first contact, from the pressure against his bruised skin or from the coldness of the rag - she doesn't know, but he doesn't complain so she continues with her task, tenderly wiping away all the remnants of this morning's battle.

* * *

><p>Rick closes his eyes as Maggie rubs the washcloth over his arms and chest, removing the dirt and dried blood, as well as washing away the nightmares that had invaded his nap. He leans forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands as she rubs the cloth against his aching back. He starts to drift off again, thinking he might really enjoy this if he wasn't so tired. The cool cloth on the back of his neck feels heavenly.<p>

"Ok, sit back."

Her compassionate voice brings him out of his stupor and he sits up straight.

She rinses the dirt out of the washcloth and adds a little bit of fresh soap. She gently washes his face, careful of the cuts on his brow and cheekbone.

"Here." She hands him the rag. "You can do your stomach," she tells him softly, almost nervously. "Then if you lean over the bathtub I can wash your hair for you."

He rubs the cloth over his stomach, not really paying much attention to whether or not he's actually getting himself clean.

Maggie leaves him for a minute and then comes back holding a large pitcher.

"Kneel on the floor here and lean over the tub," she says, turning on the faucet in the bathtub.

He throws the washcloth in the sink and gets down on the floor to kneel by the tub. He doesn't care if his hair is clean or not but he's too tired to argue with her. He braces his forearms on the edge of the tub and leans over, letting her pour cold water over his head and massaging some berry smelling shampoo into his scalp. Her massaging fingers make up for the coldness of the water but he still doesn't see why this is necessary.

After rinsing out all the shampoo, Maggie turns off the water and puts a towel over his head. She rubs the soft material against his dark hair for a minute and then holds out a hand to help him stand up. He takes it, grateful for her assistance.

She hangs the wet towels over the shower stall and leaves him to brush his teeth.

~ / ~

Maggie retrieves the antibiotic cream from the bedside table, picks up the white tee from the chair and heads back into the bathroom.

Rick wipes his mouth on one of the damp towels and leans against the sink when Maggie joins him again.

"This cream may not be as effective as it would have been before the expiration date, but it should help a little." She unscrews the small cap and squeezes a dollop onto her index finger. She covers all of the nicks and scratches in a professional manner, despite her fluttering pulse.

"Thanks." He takes the tee shirt off the counter and pulls it over his semi-wet curls. He limps back into the bedroom and heads straight for the big pillow with the shape of his head still indented in its cushion.

"Wait. I have to do your leg. Take your pants off and sit over here." She points to the ottoman at the end of the bed as her cheeks get warmer and her heart beats faster. She chastises herself for feeling like a silly eighth grader mooning over a boy in gym class, but she just can't help it.

"Later."

"Now, Rick. Please? I'm more concerned about the gunshot than all the other wounds. Come on, let's just do this quick and you can go back to bed." She hates the slump of his shoulders as he turns toward her.

He gives her a withering look but begins to unbuckle his belt. "Fine." He shucks his jeans down his long legs and sits on the ottoman in his boxer briefs and white tee shirt.

After forcing her restless heart to beat normal once again, Maggie applies antiseptic and a bandage to the ugly flesh wound on his left thigh. She looks up into his tired blue eyes and smiles, hoping to alleviate some of the misery etched into his handsome features. "There, good as new."

As Rick gets to his feet to slowly limp across the room, Maggie barely hears him mutter, "What's the point anyway?" in a voice filled with complete despair infused with exhausted indifference.

Maggie's Irish temper flares and she is standing in front of him before he knows what's happening. "Don't you dare give up on me now! You wouldn't let me give up last year when it was all I could do to get out of bed each day." She fights back the tears and continues her plea. "You made me fight for my life again. You brought me back, so you don't get to quit on me now, not after everything we've been through. The point is you have a son downstairs who needs you… and you have a woman right here who needs you. I care about you - more than you can imagine." With trembling hands, she reaches up to caress his whiskered cheeks and whispers around the tightness in her slender throat, "Please come back to me Rick. Fight for me."

~ / ~

The unshed tears shimmering in her eyes hurt him more than any of the damage his body had endured that day. The thought that he is responsible for putting them there shreds his already broken heart to pieces.

"I don't know how," he answers miserably, regret joining the sorrow weighing down on his soul. "I'm so fuckin' tired of fighting."

She wraps her arms around his shoulders tightly and buries her face in the crook of his neck to hide the tears that are now flowing freely.


	5. Chapter 5

Rick folds her into his arms and closes his eyes, breathing in her scent to block out everything but Maggie. He holds her close and gradually begins to feel the tension recede from his weary bones. With a heavy sigh, he begins to feel lighter than he has in ages, and he suddenly realizes that _she_ is his sanctuary, not the prison. The prison was a collection of mortar and stone that kept them safe from walkers and comfortable in bad weather. It was their house for a while but it was never home. Maggie is his home, and as long as she is by his side he knows he can get through anything. She is the one that got him through his stint in Crazy Town after Lori died. They will get through this together.

Kissing the side of her head, he whispers against her hair, "I'm sorry. It's okay, honey, we're gonna be okay. We'll get through this."

She lifts her head to search his eyes for the truth and sees nothing but love gazing back at her.

His hands come up to wipe the tears from her cheeks and he finds her staring at his mouth. Unable to resist the desire in her eyes, he lowers his head to press his mouth to hers. Their lips meet tentatively at first, a gentle pressure with a hint of nervousness. He kisses her lightly – testing, tempting, so anxious and eager, learning the soft contours of her lovely lips and hoping like hell they won't regret this.

Rick pulls back to look deeply into her eyes. With questioning brows, he soundlessly asks, _Are you sure you want this_?

With a barely perceptible nod, she wordlessly answers, _With all my heart. _

Their lips crash together with all the passion in their souls, letting go of all the craziness and misery of the world outside this room. Their hands are everywhere all at once – in his hair, on her hips, clutching his shoulders, squeezing her ass then lifting her leg over his right hip to press his growing arousal into the cleft between her legs. She moans softly as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss and explore her mouth with his inquisitive tongue. She glides her tongue along his in an age old dance - dipping, caressing, tasting… _loving_. Their timeless waltz continues as their hearts begin to pound and their bodies begin to react to the wants and needs of each other.

Maggie breaks the kiss and leans back abruptly, breathlessly saying, "Wait, stop."

Rick's hands fly away from her body as if they had been burned. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I knew you weren't ready but you're so damn beautiful…," he stammers quickly, the words crashing into and over each other.

The boyishly innocent look on his crestfallen face almost makes her laugh, but she just silences him with a smile and one long, slender finger against his lips. "I am ready, but I've been waiting for this for a long time and I don't want any interruptions."

With that she walks over to the bedroom door, closes it ever so quietly and turns the lock. She strolls back over to Rick who is extremely grateful to have been mistaken. She puts her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his. His arms snake around her waist to pull her closer.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he whispers against her mouth.

"Uh huh," she breathes with a mischievous grin as she presses her mid-section against his erection.

"Oh God," he moans as he claims her mouth again. She tastes like grapes, cereal and hope. Their passion still burns but with less frenetic energy as he savors the fact that Maggie is in his arms. His hands travel slowly from her waist, up her sides, skimming her slender ribcage and coming to rest on her breasts.

Maggie runs her fingers through his dark, unruly hair and then down his back to the hem of his tee shirt. Carefully, she pulls it up and over his head, being mindful of his injuries, and lets it fall to the floor behind him. Tracing her fingers thru the silky hair on his chest, she openly admires his strong physique.

Her shirt soon joins his as it falls from his fingertips onto the soft carpet. As she stands half naked before him, it isn't her bare chest that he is looking at with longing, but into her warm green eyes when he says with all the sincerity in his soul, "I love you, Maggie."

"I love you, too," she responds with her heart in her throat.

In a flurry of kisses and caresses, the rest of their clothes are shed until they are on the bed with Maggie straddling him. She moans into his mouth as he works a finger inside her sensitive folds. Adding a second finger, he slowly moves them in and out while his other hand massages her breast, teasing the soft peak into a tight bud.

She reaches down between them to stroke his hardened length. He inhales at the contact. It's been a long time since he's felt anything this good and all he wants to do is lose himself in this woman, but an ounce of sanity worms its way into his muddled brain. "Maggie wait, maybe we shouldn't start something we can't finish. I'm not takin' a chance of getting you pregnant."

"Don't worry." She plants a quick kiss on his lips and leaves him to search the bathroom. After finding what she was looking for, she turns back toward the bed and nearly loses her balance at the sight before her. Rick Grimes in jeans and his standard plaid button up is gorgeous. Rick Grimes in her bed naked and aroused is downright beautiful.

"What'd you find?"

She answers him by tossing five foil packets onto the bed beside him.

"Holy shit, I'm fucked."

"Mmmm, exactly," she responds while opening one of the condoms.

Instead of putting the rubber on him right away, she places it on his flat stomach and gives him a devilish grin that promises all kinds of wondrous sin. With a gleam in her eyes, she leans over and licks his cock from the base to the tip, swirling her tongue over the slit before taking him into her mouth completely.

"Nnnnn… oh, baby," he moans as his hands find themselves cradling her head.

She wraps one hand around his thickness and glides it up and down, following the path of her mouth. Her other hand cups his balls, gently squeezing the heaviness which elicits another deep groan from his diaphragm.

As her mouth and hands continue to give him incredible pleasure, he brushes her hair back behind her ear, giving himself an unobstructed view of her beautiful jawline and all that it is doing to him. She peers up at him and softly hums when their eyes meet, sending erotic vibrations straight through his shaft.

"God, honey, you're gonna make me come already."

One final pull and she lets him slide out of her mouth to crawl up his body. "I want you inside me, I need you."

She hands him the condom and leans back while he rolls it on. Straddling him again she brings his length to her entrance and slowly eases herself down, inch by glorious inch. She wants him hard and fast but she takes her time, cherishing every second it takes to get acclimated to his size until he is filling her completely.

"Oh my God, you feel so good," Maggie purrs.

With her hands on his chest, she begins to move up and down, slowly at first, savoring the feel of him inside her. She quickens the pace and they find a rhythm together, losing themselves in the magic of becoming one. One heart, one body, one soul.

"Oh Christ, slow down. You're so tight, I'm never gonna last."

She stops moving to grind her pelvis into his. Sitting up, he wraps a muscular arm around her waist, anchoring her to him. He finds her mouth for a long greedy kiss and then works his way down her neck, grazing is tongue and teeth over her collarbone until she is stretched back over his arm while he caresses her full breast and sucks on the tight bud.

Unable to move within his unyielding embrace, she just holds onto him dearly, running her hands through his wavy hair while securing his mouth to her chest. He sweeps her nipples with his tongue, alternating between the two peaks and driving her mad in the process. She has never had a man so deep inside her and every cell in her body is aching to find relief from the wonderful pressure that is collecting at her core.

She is about to beg when he finally lies back down and lets her ride him, seeking the relief her body is craving. She increases her rhythm, the indescribable pressure building and building, surging up and reaching out for that final climax.

"Oh God, I'm close," she pants.

"That's it, baby, come for me."

He rubs a thumb across her swollen clit and she cries his name on the edge of her release, her back arching as she digs her nails into his thighs, shuddering with wave after wave of incredible sensation while he continues to thrust into her. The exquisite look on her face has him chasing his own orgasm a moment later.

She collapses on his chest with trembling legs as she floats back down from the heavens. Completely spent, she struggles to catch her breath while her heart tries to return to its normal even tempo.

"Oouuuch…," she hears rumble from deep in his chest followed by a light chuckle.

"Oh shit," she quickly sits up and tries to extricate herself from his body, only to have Rick tighten his arms around her back, pulling her down to lay flush against him once again, skin to skin.

"Rick, I'm hurting you!"

"It's ok. It never hurt so good." He smiles while his heart is practically beating out of his chest.

"Rick!" She tries another futile attempt to separate from him again.

"It's fine, just let me hold you."

"My God, you're stubborn as a mule!" She complains.

"Sorry, haven't we met before? Hi, I'm Rick," he teases with cheeky sarcasm.

Exasperated at his infamous stubbornness, she gently nestles into his arms and tries not to move anything that could aggravate his injuries any more than she already has.

After a time she feels his heart beating normally and his chest rise and fall on steady breaths. She silently slips out of his arms to clean them both up and then snuggles back to his side, pulling the blanket over them and placing her forehead against his shoulder.

"Hey…," he whispers sleepily in the now darkened room.

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for bringing me back."

"It was my pleasure." She smiles serenely. "I love you, Rick."

"Love you, too, honey," he murmurs before drifting back down to wherever his dreams may take him.


	6. Chapter 6

Beth spends the days cleaning the entire house and taking care of Judy while Daryl works on mending the damaged fences with some wood that he'd found stacked behind a shed. The river was flowing nicely to keep the walkers away on the eastern border but he needed to reinforce the surrounding fences so they could try to live a relatively peaceful existence. In time he would like to fortify the land with a more solid barricade than wood and nails, but for now they would have to do.

While hammering a warped two by four onto a weathered fencepost, his thoughts drift to his missing family members. It's strange to think of them as family, but at the same time - it feels right. He realizes that maybe 'Family' means more than being connected by blood. It's a connection that makes you willing to sacrifice your own comfort and happiness for the sake of another's. A sacrifice that his real brother had never been willing to make for him.

Before thoughts of Merle can darken his mood, he thinks of Lil Ass-kicker and hopes that Rick will be comfortable in Hershel's room, not even entertaining the possibility that his brother may not make it back to the farm. He just hopes they get there soon.

Turning to reach for another board, Daryl is stunned by the sight before him. Standing about thirty feet away, Nellie is grazing on the high grass between the fence line and the woods on the southern border.

"Well I'll be damned." The hunter smiles, pleased to see an old acquaintance.

With no intention of mounting the beast that had thrown him the last time they were together, Daryl retrieves a rope from Jimmy's pickup truck and slowly advances toward the brown mare. Whether she remembers him or not, she allows him to loop the rope over her twitching ears, probably grateful for human contact after all this time.

He leaves the truck parked in the field to lead the horse back up to the house, looking forward to seeing the expression on Beth's face at the sight of his find. Walking through the green pastures, his long stringy hair blows in the breeze, resembling the dark mane of the horse behind him. They walk along as two animals that were once wild and free, now tamed and happily tethered to others. Daryl steals a glance at the endless sky, nodding his thanks to Hershel.

* * *

><p>Maggie is drifting in that hazy place between dreams and reality when the warmth at her back solidifies and envelops her with a feeling of complete security. The hand on her breast adds to the feeling of sanctuary while bringing her fully awake. The warm mouth leaving moist impressions on her neck reminds her how much she is loved. The silky hardness pressing against her backside reminds her how much she needs this man.<p>

She presses back against Rick's morning hard-on while his hand travels down to explore the delta between her legs. She opens up for him, giving full access to his wandering fingers while his cock nestles comfortably between the cleft of her cheeks.

His skilled fingers work deep inside her, exploring her hidden wonders. He curves a long finger to graze over the sweet spot that can send her soaring, his teeth nipping gently into the soft flesh below her ear while his fingers stroke her to climax.

While she is floating down from her release, his solid warmth leaves her body and she is vaguely aware of a ripping sound. A moment later his warmth is once again at her back and she feels a large hand behind her thigh, smoothly guiding it forward to lay her knee on the mattress in front of her.

Gripping her hip, he slips inside her hyper-stimulated sex to the sound of a husky whimper and loses himself completely.

* * *

><p>"Good morning." Rick smiles at his son sitting at the kitchen table with a spoonful of cereal floating a few inches from his mouth while the book in his other hand absorbs all of his attention.<p>

"Hey." Carl looks up at the breezy tone of his father's greeting, surprised at the wide grin spread across his bruised face. He swallows the waiting spoonful. "Are you alright?"

"Never better. How was the couch?"

"Okay. Better than the prison cots," he answers hesitantly, eyeing his dad while trying to figure out why he is acting so… happy.

Maggie strolls into the kitchen giving Carl a big smile. "Good morning."

"Hi," he says suspiciously, looking between the two glowing adults.

Maggie walks over to Rick who is standing at the counter pouring himself a bowl of dry cereal. She leans close to him, putting a hand on his lower back. "Hi," she murmurs softly.

"Hi," he whispers back, smiling at her against his shoulder. "You want some?"

"Holy shit!" The spoon Carl was holding clatters to the table.

"Carl!" Rick's parental instincts automatically take over to admonish the foul language, despite it being the end of a civilized world.

"Are you guys like… _together now?"_ Carl asks with a mix of emotions on his young face.

Rick takes Maggie's hand in both of his. "Yes, we are." He stops breathing for the few moments it takes his son to process the information.

"Wow. It's weird… but I guess it's kinda cool. Wow." He looks at the couple and shakes his head. "Patrick always thought there was something going on with you guys, but I never believed him."

"Well, we were just friends all this time. We didn't realize it was something more than that until now," Maggie explains. "So, you're okay with this? With us…dating?" she asks, holding onto Rick's hands tight enough to make him wince, and hoping with all her heart that his son is accepting of their relationship. She knows Carl's happiness means everything to Rick, but she can't go back to being just friends with him after their night together. Not after everything they'd said… and did.

"Yeah. It's fine. I'm just glad it's you and not your sister – Beth is mine. Oh God!" Carl buries his bright red face in his hands, mortified that he'd confessed that out loud.

Maggie does a decent job of containing her laughter but Rick is a lost cause. He lets out a loud hoot followed by a few snorts until he has himself under control.

"It's alright buddy," Rick soothes, his voice wavering under the pressure of trying to hold back the laughter that desperately wants to escape. "We all know how you feel about Beth," he admits calmly, joyously relieved that Carl isn't upset about his new relationship with Maggie.

"Just kill me now, please," Carl mumbles into his hands.

The horrified angst in his young son's voice is music to Rick's ears. The sound of normal teenage humiliation trumps cold, calculated survival any day.

"Don't worry, Carl." Maggie puts a comforting hand on the boys shoulder. "In a few years when you're a little older, she'll be ready for you. Just hang in there," she says, not believing it to be true but hoping to restore his dignity regardless. "In the meantime, why don't you and I raid some houses on this block while your dad tries to steal us a car?" Maggie smiles brightly at Rick, the irony not lost on the ex-sheriff.

~ / ~

Several hours later, Rick is sitting on the porch steps awaiting their return. He is still tired and knows his body needs more sleep, but he also knows that he wouldn't be able to shut his eyes until his family is safely back with him. A warm breeze dances through the trees as he absently twists the gold band on his left ring finger. Thinking of a different family unit from another lifetime, he slips the ring off his finger, letting the memories it holds inside its precious metal be forever sealed as he puts the band inside his pocket. Looking up to the billowing clouds overhead, he says goodbye to a very dear friend.

Another ten minutes tick by before he spots Maggie and Carl coming out of a house at the other end of the street. They are each sporting a backpack and Carl is carrying a large red duffel bag while Maggie is hauling a small black suitcase. It looks like they were pretty successful on their run. He wishes he could say the same about his mission.

As they near the house, he gets up to give them a hand. "Wow, you guys did alright, huh?" He meets them in the middle of the driveway and reaches his left hand out to take the suitcase from Maggie. The weight of it surprises him and he raises his eyebrows at her, questioning its contents.

"We found quite of bit of canned food and juice boxes." She smiles radiantly at him. She hadn't really given it much thought before, but she finds herself unbelievably happy at seeing the white strip of skin at the top of his ring finger.

He smiles back, perceiving the reason for her joy. He nods his head, silently affirming the magnitude of his gesture. _I am yours._

"I call the mandarin oranges and Twizzlers!" Carl exclaims, lugging his load up the walkway to the front door, oblivious to the poignant exchange going on in the driveway behind him.

"I told him the blueberry Pop-tarts were yours." She swallows the lump in her throat and leans in to give Rick a tender kiss on the lips. _Thank you._

"Mmm, Thanks for that."

"You're welcome," she replies sweetly, taking a good look at his handsome face and noticing the fatigue that is clouding his usually bright eyes. "You look exhausted. Why don't you go take a nap while Carl and I get this stuff organized?"

"Yeah, I'm going up now." He heads toward the front porch while trying unsuccessfully to stifle a jaw breaking yawn. "You guys can relax too and I'll help you go through it all later."

Maggie falls in step beside him. "There's more in that last house I want to go back for tomorrow. Some camping gear including a water filtration thing. That may come in handy since it looks like we'll be walking to the farm," she says, stating the obvious by the lack of a vehicle in their driveway. "I guess you didn't have any luck finding a car we could use, huh?"

"No, I'll check the other end of the neighborhood tomorrow," he replies with a frown laced with regret.

"We tried a couple of cars too after finding the keys inside the houses. They were all empty though."

"Yeah, I think somebody went through this neighborhood siphoning all the gas already. Hopefully we'll have better luck tomorrow."

Maggie follows him into the house and locks the door behind them.

~ / ~

Rick emerges from the bedroom almost two hours later. Not entirely refreshed and ready to run a marathon, but upright and eager nonetheless. The veil of haze inside his head is dissipating with each step he takes down the hall. He walks into the living room to find Maggie sitting on the couch, Carl cross-legged on the floor and the makings of a Monopoly game being set up on the coffee table between them.

Maggie spots him from the corner of her eye as he steps out from the hallway. "Hey sleepyhead. You're just in time for the next game."

Rick grabs a chair from the dining room and places it next to the coffee table on Maggie's right. "I see you two have been busy," he states, nodding at the selection of board games stacked on the floor under an open bag of outdated Twizzlers.

"Here, you can be the hat." Carl places the small pewter token in front of his father. "Unless you want to be the thimble instead. I'm the car and Maggie's the dog. And watch out, Maggie, 'cause Dad plays cutthroat. Doesn't matter if it's checkers or Monopoly. He never let me win, even when I was little."

"Hey, I'm not that bad!" Rick leans closer to Carl to level him with a glare that is both threatening and pleading. "Come on, help me out here. I don't want to ruin the perfect image that Maggie has of me."

"Hah!" The exclamation bursts from Maggie's mouth before she can even think to hold it back. "Oh, sweetheart, you are far from perfect. You are bow-legged, stubborn as a mule, and going gray before my eyes."

"Well shit, why don't you tell me how you really feel?" Rick sits back in his chair dolefully.

"But…" she continues, climbing onto his lap and cradling his face between her hands. "You have the kindest heart, the most beautiful eyes, and an incredibly smart brain which I would follow to the ends of the earth." She punctuates the words with a kiss, rubbing her thumbs over the gray whiskers threaded through his brown beard. "And you have a very nice ass," she adds in a whisper against his lips.

"Eww! Can we please get back to the game now, thank you!" An exasperated Carl breaks the tender moment, forcing Maggie to return to her position on the couch. She deals out $1500 of play money to each of them while Carl sets up the _Chance_ and _Community Chest_ cards.

"Wouldn't it be fun to play with real money now? I mean, it's all just as useless as the play money these days anyway," Maggie declares.

"Do you think we'll ever need money again, Dad?"

"Not in my lifetime, no I don't think so. Maybe in my great-grandkids lifetime."

"You're talking about _my _grandkids, right?" The smirk on Carl's face holds heaps of amusement at the thought of himself as a grandfather.

"How will we get things back to the way they used to be?" The young teen questions with hopeful eyes contradicting the anxiety in his voice.

"Well, once the scientists figure out a cure for this virus, the first thing you'll need to do is get the power grids up and running. Hopefully there are enough engineers surviving out there to get that going." Rick tries his best to answer the question matter-of-factly, without trying to freak out his son. "I'd start with the hydropower plants because the reservoirs are still there and they don't take a lot of manpower to maintain. Get the fuel companies producing again so the cars can be used. I think one of the biggest tasks is gonna be just cleanin' everything up."

"It sounds like a lot of work."

"Yup, it'll take years." Rick nods his head while fingering the tiny pewter hat in his hand. _If only things could be as simple as a Monopoly game._

"Daryl says that the police departments are gonna be the most important things to bring back," Carl says, breaking into his thoughts.

"Really? He told you that?" Rick doesn't know if he's more surprised at the fact that Daryl talked to Carl about such profound matters, or that the redneck actually believes in the necessity of law enforcement.

"No, not exactly. I heard him say it to Carol. She thinks that hospitals and schools are going to be the most important things to fix."

"Well, they are both very important, that's true. I just hope whatever type of government you bring back does a better job of running what's left of this country. Alright, let's play."


	7. Chapter 7

"So this is Woodbury? It's nice." Carol looks around at the buildings that had housed the community run by the Governor up until eight months ago. Other than a few broken windows and some garbage strewn about the street, it seems like a decent place to live.

"Looks can be deceiving." Michonne's dark eyes sweep suspiciously from left to right as she guides the horse between the large tires that had once been stacked to create a barrier at the end of the block.

"That was the school," Sasha points to a white two-story building with pretty storefront windows across the street. "That was the Governor's house," she continues, pointing to a red brick building a little further down. "And the larger building next to it is where he kept all the food supplies and armory."

"Let's check the buildings and then call it a day." Tyreese puts a hand on Michonne's shoulder. "It'll be fine for one night."

After clearing each structure along the two-block stretch, they head back to the shop that held the Governor's supplies. It was an old furniture store that had double doors at the entrance, making it fairly easy to get the horse inside for the night. The metal shelves in the front of the shop are bare for the most part, having been picked clean by Rick and Daryl when they first brought the Woodbury citizens to live with them at the prison. They continue walking to the back of the shop toward several cozy looking living room displays. Carol and Tyreese fall into a large leather sectional and watch Sasha follow Michonne up a flight of stairs set in the back corner of the small warehouse. They reach the second floor to find several desks and file cabinets with a thin layer of dust shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the large windows overlooking the main street. Sasha walks through the office space where the business end of the furniture shop must have taken place before The Turn. She looks out the window for a better view of the town she had lived in for a short period some time ago. As she is gazing across the street at the building she and Tyreese had shared with two elderly women, a flicker of movement catches her attention at the corner of her eye.

"Oh my God." Sasha's well-toned shoulders tense and her mouth goes dry when a handful of walkers stumble between the fallen tires, leading a herd of about sixty more right into the little town.

* * *

><p>The morning after the marathon of board games, which Rick diplomatically let Carl win several times, he and Maggie sleep later than usual. They had gone to bed at about 10:30 and spent an hour wrapped in each other's arms, talking about everything and nothing. The next hour was spent making love slowly, and as quietly as possible with his impressionable son sleeping in the room next door.<p>

This morning, Maggie is enjoying the feeling of being enveloped in her lover's arms, listening to his even breathing and steady heartbeat while drawing lazy circles on his chest as he sleeps. The sheets are twisted around their legs and the light breeze wafting through the open window feels wonderful on her bare back, cooling her overheated skin from the furnace that is Rick. It's a nice change from waking alone in a damp prison cell.

The sound of the birds singing outside their window adds to the cozy feeling of a normal, lazy weekend morning. The song she hears now is very different from the melody that accompanied them on their flight from the prison two days ago. It's light and airy, matching the cadence of her heart. She thinks of her father now with fondness more than sadness, remembering a conversation they'd had a few weeks ago.

"_Be careful, honey." Hershel looked at his eldest daughter with compassion and trepidation as she walked away from the man who has been their leader for the past year and a half._

"_I always am, Daddy." The smile stretching her cheeks stayed in place while she prepared for the run she was about to go on with Rick and Tyreese._

"_I'm not talking about the run, Maggie." He watched their leader walk back into cell block C with Carl at his side. "I see the way you look at him these days. I just don't want you to get hurt." The old man shifted on his crutches, squinting into the sun shining down on the prison courtyard._

"_I'm not gonna get hurt. We're just friends." Maggie's smile faded as she looked down at the weapon in her hands, checking the amount of rounds in the chamber._

"_But you want more than that, don't you?"_

"_Doesn't matter. I'll take whatever he can give me."_

"_And if he decides he wants more too?"_

"_If he wants me, I'm his." Maggie's matter of fact reply leaves no room for argument._

"_He's a good man and you could do a lot worse than Rick, but he's got a lot of baggage, honey."_

"_Don't we all?!"_

"_But what if it doesn't work out? It's not like you could just break up and go your own separate ways. Is it really worth risking your friendship?"_

"_Yes, it is. What's the point of surviving if we're not really living?"_

"_Will you at least take it slow then?" he pleaded, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle._

"_I won't do anything foolish. Please trust me enough to respect my decisions. I'm not a kid anymore."_

"_I respect both of you. But you'll always be my little girl. Lord, you remind me so much of your mom. Once she had her mind set on something, there was no stopping her."_

_He thought about everything they'd been through and he knew without a doubt that Rick would do anything to keep his daughter safe. Maybe that was enough. And if he made her truly happy in this dismal world, more power to him. "If this is what you really want… you have my blessing."_

"_Thank you. But this is all pointless 'cause like I said – we're just friends."_

"_For now. But I've seen the way he's been looking at you too."_

"_Really?" The smile that split her face lit up her eyes like he hadn't seen since the Christmas she got her first pony at the age of seven._

"_Really. Now, please be careful on this run."_

"_I will." She beamed as she wrapped her arms around his neck for a reassuring hug. "Thank you, Daddy."_

She senses Rick's head shifting on the pillow and then feels his lips press against her forehead.

"Mornin'," he murmurs drowsily against her hair and tightens his arm around her bare shoulder.

"G'morning." She places a kiss just above his nipple and drapes her leg across his thighs, snuggling deeper into him. "We should probably get up soon."

"Mmhmm. We should," he says softly, making absolutely no effort of moving.

"Come on. Let's go get some breakfast. I'm buying." Maggie sits up and stretches her arms above her head, giving Rick a side view of one perfect bosom.

"In that case, I want brunch at the country club." He grabs her shoulders and pulls her back down over him, hugging her soft curves against his hard body.

"So you're awake now, huh?" she smiles against his neck, feeling his growing erection against her pubic bone.

"Mmhmm, all of me." He palms her bottom and grinds himself against her.

"Unfortunately, your son is probably awake too. Come on, Sheriff, we'll continue this conversation later." She plants a quick kiss on his lips and pushes herself off of him quickly before he can pull her back down again.

Once dressed, they head to the kitchen expecting to find Carl, but are surprised to find a note instead. Written in Carl's impatient scrawl, the note informs them that he got tired of waiting and went to get the camping supplies on his own.

"Son of a bitch," Rick says under his breath, shaking his head at the audacity of his son's actions.

"I'm sure he's fine." Maggie puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"That's not the point. He should have told me instead of running off alone."

"He did leave – ." The sound of the front door opening stops Maggie mid-defense.

"Carl! _Where the hell did you go?_" Rick demands.

The tone of his father's voice gets the teenager's back up immediately. "I told you… I went to get the other supplies." Carl waves his hand irritably at the note his father is still clutching. "No big deal. It's gonna rain soon so I thought it would be better to get it now. It's not like I've got anything better to do and you guys didn't seem to be in any hurry to get up," he finishes, annoyed at having to defend himself for being helpful.

"Well you should have told us. Next time you wake us up, _you hear me_?"

"I'm not a kid anymore!" He walks up the stairs hauling a large black trash bag, looking like a misfit Santa Claus.

"Carl," Maggie interjects calmly, hoping to diffuse the situation, "no matter how old you are, you'll always be his kid and he'll always want to protect you," she says pensively, finally understanding how her father must have felt with her and Beth. "Thanks for getting the stuff. Just knock on our door next time, okay?" She rubs a hand over the protruding tendons in Rick's arm, soothing the older Grimes while speaking to the younger one.

"Fine." Carl ignores the glare from his father and carries his load into the living room.

Maggie pulls Rick back into the kitchen. "I think he was only exercising some teenage independence," she says quietly, "I don't think he was being rebellious. Trust me – I know what that is like." She rolls her eyes at the thought of everything she had done as a teenager, giving him a smile that warms his heart.

"Gave Hershel a hard time, did ya?" He grins at the image of a rebellious teenage Maggie. "Maybe you're right." He pulls her into his arms for a grateful embrace. "But it's different these days."

"I know, but he's got a point – he's really not a kid anymore, Rick." She threads her fingers through the dark curly hair at the nape of his neck.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I like the idea of him runnin' off alone."

"But you and Daryl have taught him well. At least he's more prepared now than when he was running off when I first met you guys."

He chuckles at her insight. "Good point." He squeezes her tightly and then lets her go. "Come on." Taking her hand he guides her into the living room.

"Alright, so what did you find?" He smiles at his son and is rewarded with a triumphant grin in return.

Excitedly, Carl shows him the sleeping bags, water filter, MRE meals, and other camping paraphernalia. "Oh, I also found these," he reaches behind him and holds up a package of diapers. "This one house had a lot of baby stuff. I figure we can drive back there after we catch up with Daryl."

"How many houses did you go through?" Rick asks tightly.

"Just three."

Maggie leans into Rick, trying to keep his exasperation from bursting as she says, "Great idea, unless we find a car today that we can load everything into. Why don't we eat something fast and then we can all go check the cars in the other half of the neighborhood, Rick. It does look like a storm's coming this way."

"Sure." Confounded, he walks toward the kitchen as Maggie turns to smile conspiratorially at Carl.

~ / ~

What started as a drizzle turned into a steady rain until the heavy clouds could hold back no longer. They reach their driveway just as the skies open up to saturate their clothes under a sudden deluge. Carl quickly lifts the garage door and they file inside, shaking off as much of the cold droplets as possible.

"Well that sucked." Carl voices the opinion that all three share. It was bad enough that they couldn't find a vehicle that had any gas left to take them to the farm, but getting caught in the maelstrom just added insult to injury.

Maggie turns to close the bay door and is startled when a low black blur runs past her into the garage.

"Hey!" One voice shouts excitedly.

"What the hell!" A deeper voice shouts angrily.

"Ahhh!" Three voices shout in unison as the skinny, wet black Labrador retriever shakes her whole body from nose to tail, sending cold rainwater flying in every direction.

"Oh, Dad, isn't she adorable?" Carl falls in love instantly as the dog rubs her head against his legs, just waiting for some fingers to scratch behind her ears.

"She's not staying so don't get attached!"

"Aww, come on, Dad, she needs a family."

"We have enough mouths to feed! No, Carl."

Despite the tone – or perhaps because of the tone coming from the tall man, the black lab saunters over to him, giving him the saddest, most soulful eyes he's ever seen, and he is done.

"Oh, Christ." Rick looks at Maggie for help in the situation which is quickly spiraling out of his control.

"Don't look at me, I'd let her stay." Maggie responds to his extremely high, pleading eyebrows. "She could help protect us."

"Shit." Rick shakes his head in defeat. "Fine. Get a towel and dry her off out here. Actually go get four towels." Rick orders Carl as he begins to take off his soaked shirt.

"Yes!" An elated Carl high fives Maggie before running into the house.


	8. Chapter 8

"So what are we gonna call her?" Maggie asks Carl as she gives the damp dog a Vienna Sausage while they organize all of the food on the kitchen counter.

"How 'bout Bailey?"

"As in Bailey Lane?" She questions, referring to the street they were currently living on.

"Yeah. It fits her. Do you like that, Bailey?" Carl tries the name as he rubs the dog's scruff, making her tail wag blissfully.

"Nice Irish name, I like it. I think she does too," Maggie smiles at their new pet. "And you really like these also, don't you?" She gives Bailey another treat from the small can of Vienna Sausages and glances over at all the boxes, cans and bags of food they'd collected. "I wish we could carry all of this food. Or most of it anyway. I don't mind leaving the sardines."

"Hey, wait a minute! There was that small pack next door – the one made for dogs. I'll go get it and she can carry stuff too!" Carl takes two steps toward the front door.

"Carl, wait! Just tell your father first, ok?"

"Yeah, sure." He stops at the railing at the top of the stairs. "Dad?"

Rick looks up from the camping gear spread around the coffee table in front of him. "Yeah?"

"I'm just gonna run to the house right next door. They have a backpack we can put on Bailey."

"Uh… okay. Just be care - ." His words are lost on the sound of the front door closing. "Bailey?" He asks, looking curiously at Maggie standing in the kitchen doorway with the Labrador at her side. He swears the dumb dog is smiling at him.

~ / ~

Standing in the living room in the fading sunlight, they look at all the supplies they've collected over the last two days. The main essentials are in one pile to the side while they figure out which food to take with them on their trek to the farm. They've already discounted the spam and sardines - those can surely wait until they come back with Daryl.

"Carl, you'll need the granola bars and cereal more than the potato chips. Throw that bag into the 'maybe' pile for now," Rick instructs his son while he puts a couple of MRE meals into his own backpack.

"Fine, but I'm definitely taking the Slim Jims."

He looks over Carl's shoulder to see Maggie come in from the hallway with her hands behind her back, the epitome of nonchalance, but he knows her too well. She walks to her backpack and Rick watches her as she very discreetly puts two boxes of condoms inside. She looks up and gives him a coquettish smile, daring him to tell her she can't bring them. He gives her a wink and a smile and turns back to the task at hand.

~ / ~

Rick wakes in the dark bedroom with moonlight filtering in through the open windows, creating silvery highlights in the brown hair of the woman asleep in his arms. Her head is tucked beneath his chin, her breath tickling the curly hairs on his chest while her knees are bent against his groin. His right arm has turned to pins and needles underneath his head and his nuts are in danger of being crushed by her bony knees, but there's no place in the world he would rather be.

He trails his fingertips over her shoulder, down her arm to her hands curled together against his chest. He would love to put a ring on her finger that told the world that she belonged to him, but the tradition of official engagements and planning big weddings seems a thing of the past. He can't run down to the jewelry store and take his time picking out the perfect ring. He can't surprise her with a romantic dinner for two at an expensive restaurant. But he vows to himself that he will find a ring for her someday and get down on bended knee to propose marriage. They will never have an official ceremony followed by a fancy party with a band playing for a hundred of their closest friends and family, but he will put a ring on her finger regardless. She deserves nothing less, and he would love nothing more.

He doesn't know how he lived for thirty-five years without this woman. He had loved Lori for many years, but not like this. Never like this. He had to work to get Lori's attention from the start. She never made it easy for him. They had been happy for a bunch of years at the beginning, but it had never felt easy. This is very different. His relationship with Maggie has always been straightforward and effortless - intense and carefree and explosive and soothing all at the same time. They respected each other equally and knew they could count on the other's support no matter what.

Yes, he had loved his wife, but he never truly _needed _her. He needs Maggie to fill his heart as much as he needs oxygen to fill his lungs. He knows he wouldn't survive without either.

His fingers trace back up her arm, circling a beauty mark on her shoulder that he's always wanted to touch. He relishes the fact that he is free to do that now.

The butterfly touches dancing on her shoulder bring her awake and she moves her head back to meet his eyes. "Can't sleep?" She asks drowsily.

"Don't want to. I'm gonna enjoy every second that I can with you." He brushes a loose strand of dark hair out of her face and continues to caress her cheek with feathery touches. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

"Yeah. Almost as much as I love you."

He raises himself up on his still-sleeping arm and shakes his head slowly. "Not even close. You mean the world to me, Maggie." He cups her chin and traces his thumb over her soft lips. "I swear I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

She shifts onto her back as his head dips down to meet her mouth. Her arms wrap around his neck as he kisses her slowly, passionately, their tongues soundlessly declaring their love for each other.

His hand travels down to the swell of her breast while his lips leave hers to paint kisses along her jawline and throat. Replacing his hand with his mouth, he loves the feel of her fingers massaging his head and the sound of her moans as his hand explores the channel between her legs.

"Oh God, I want you," she pants, desire muddling every thought in her head but that one single notion.

He sits up and reaches behind him for one of the condoms she'd left in the bedside drawer. Taking it out, he slips it over his erection and moves on top of her, settling between her spread thighs.

With a hand braced on either side of her head, he looks deeply into her eyes as the tip of his arousal probes insistently at her entrance. "I love you." He lowers his head, swallowing her reply, filling her mouth with his tongue while his rigid member fills her center. She is incredibly tight around him while her body adjusts to his intrusion. He pulls back slightly and then slides deeper, his tongue mimicking the action inside her mouth.

When his balls are flush against her sensitive skin, he holds himself steady, relishing the feeling of being so deep inside her. His arms tremble as he rises above her, taking in every detail of her beautiful face. The depth of his emotions is mirrored in the green eyes gazing back at him. Moving in and out, slow strokes become faster and then slowing again to make it last.

He folds his arms underneath her shoulders, hugging her to him tightly, cheek to cheek and groin to groin. He loves the way her hands caress his back, kneading the taut muscles and gently clawing at his hot skin. Her hips meet his, thrust for thrust until they are cresting that wondrous peak together.

"I love you, I love you so much." She embraces him firmly, her heart hammering insanely inside her chest.

"Baby, I love you, too." He kisses her neck and begins to lift himself off of her as he tries to catch his breath.

She pulls him back down and tightens her hold, dragging her heels along the backs of his muscled calves. "Not yet."

"Mmmm… if I don't go now I never will," he says, fighting the sleep that is trying to claim him.

"That's ok. Just go to sleep. We'll clean up later."

"Where have you been all my life?" he wonders sleepily.

"Waiting for you," she answers softly, the weight on top of her increasing as sleep carries him away.

~ / ~

"Hey, Dad, look what I taught her." Carl kneels on the carpet in front of the dog. "Sit." Bailey sits on command, looking up at her new master with pride. "Good girl. Give me your paw…good girl." He rewards the dog with a treat from the box he'd found next door, along with the backpack and a leash.

"Carl, she was doing that yesterday. You didn't teach her anything she didn't already know."

"No, watch. Bailey, outside," he commands and they watch the dog go down the steps and grip the front door handle in her teeth, pulling it down to open the door. "Good girl!" The lab bounds back up the steps to her master for a treat and some affection.

"Nice, too bad you can't teach her to shoot." Rick bends over to rub the dog's head. "Alright, let's get the pack on her so we can get ready to hit the road."

~ / ~

"I'm gonna miss that place." Maggie resists the urge to look back over her shoulder at the house they called home for the last three days.

"Me too." Rick gives her a smile, remembering all the tender moments they'd shared in the master bedroom.

"Yeah, but I can't wait to get to the farm," Carl adds. "I can't wait 'til Daryl sees Bailey!" The black lab turns her head at the sound of the now familiar name, stopping in the middle of the street in front of them to wait for a command. "Go on, girl. Keep going." Bailey resumes the lead, tail wagging while the water bottles jiggle inside the pack secured tightly around her torso.

It's a beautiful morning and suddenly the birds aren't the only ones singing. Rick's voice rings out in his smooth tenor, "There she was just a walkin' down the street…"

Without missing a beat Carl chimes in, "Singin' do wah diddy diddy down diddy do."

"Snappin' her fingers and shufflin' her feet," Rick continues.

"Singin' do wah diddy diddy down diddy do," Maggie's voice joins Carl's vocals.

"She looked good," Rick sings.

"Looked good," they echo.

"She looked fine."

"Looked fine."

"She looked good, she looked fine, and I nearly lost my mind," they all sing in unison with Carl's ever-changing teenage voice cracking badly on the last word.

The trio laughs out loud and Maggie feels a cool breeze whisper on the back of her neck in the still Georgia air. She looks up to the heavens and knows that her father is looking down, laughing right along with them.

The sun is high in the sky as they stop for a break and a quick snack outside an old deli. Sitting around a small wrought iron table, where Rick imagined several old-timers used to spend their mornings rehashing war stories, their peaceful afternoon is disrupted by the growls coming from Bailey as she stares fixedly at the corner of the deli.

As they look in the direction of her focus, two men step around the building and advance toward them.

"Afternoon, gentlemen. I'm Roy and this is my son, Johnny. Ma'am." The tall thin man with gray hair and whiskers tips his head in a friendly greeting, but Rick doesn't trust the good manners for good intentions. He stands up immediately and steps in front of the table, putting himself between the strangers and the people he loves. His right hand rests just above the Colt Python tucked inside its holster against his thigh, more for show than anything, considering he can't shoot well with his injured hand.

"What can I do for you?" Rick greets them calmly.

"Well, for starters you can give us your packs." Johnny, a stocky man with greasy black hair and a missing tooth, leers at Maggie as the older man pulls out a gun and aims it at Rick.

Bailey barks ferociously at the man threatening her family.

"Look, we don't want any trouble - we just want your packs. So hand 'em over and we'll will be on our way." Roy looks around nervously. "And shut him up God dammit!"

"Well, put the gun away and maybe she'll stop barking, you dumb fuck," Rick counters stoically.

He lowers the weapon, aiming it at the ground and Bailey drops her voice to an intimidating growl.

"Okay, here's the deal," Rick begins, fury lying just below the calm exterior. "You walk away now and we'll let you live. 'Cause we really don't want any trouble either."

"Since I'm the one holding the gun, I think it best if you listen to me. So hand it over." Roy waves the gun for emphasis and Bailey takes a step closer to him, still growling.

"Sorry, but there's no way I'm letting you walk away from here with our supplies. Now, there are three of us plus the dog, so you are clearly outnumbered. Even if you shoot me – my friends here will gun you down before I hit the ground. So you walk away now, or not at all. The choice is yours."

The man quickly raises his arm to fire at Rick, but Bailey is quicker as she clamps her sharp teeth through muscle and tendons, right down to the bone of his forearm, bringing him to his knees.

As his father howls in pain, Johnny pulls a dirty knife from his belt but before he can use it, someone slams into his side, knocking the wind out of him as he hits the ground, loosening the knife from his grip.

The ex-sheriff lies across the foul smelling man and reaches for the knife. The struggling form beneath him hampers his efforts but Rick finally grips the knife handle and plunges it straight into the thug's heart, killing him instantly.

Rolling off the dead man, Rick cradles his throbbing right hand, and sees Carl grab the gun from Roy while the dog still has her jaws locked on his arm.

"Johnny! My boy!" The man cries when he notices his son lying on the ground with the knife protruding from his chest. "Aahhh!" He screams, digging his heels into the dirt and trying unsuccessfully to free his arm from the dog's mouth.

Carl aims his gun at the man, stilling him for a moment until his eyes fill with pure rage.

Despite Bailey's grip on his arm, Roy lunges at Carl with his left hand outstretched. Taking a defensive step backward, the teenager watches the man fall at his feet as the bullet from Maggie's gun puts him out of their misery.

"You okay?" Rick asks Carl, pulling him into a tight embrace after the boy nods his head.

"Are you okay, Rick?"

"Yeah, come here." He pulls Maggie into a hug as the adrenaline starts his heart pounding. "Are you alright, honey?"

"Yeah. It was their choice. I won't lose any sleep over them and neither should you." She hugs him fiercely, extremely relieved that he is still there to hug her back.

Rick feels something against his leg and looks down to see Bailey's soulful eyes gazing up at him. He bends down to grip her furry jowls affectionately. "Thank you, Bailey. You are a _very_ good girl." She rewards him with several warm, wet licks to his face. "Come on, let's get our stuff together and get out of here in case they have any friends hanging around."

"Should we finish him off before he turns?" Carl nods his head toward Johnny.

"Nah, let him come back and eat his old man. The stupid fucking bastards!" Rick shakes his head in frustration at the pointlessness of it all. "Come on. Let's go find our family."


	9. Chapter 9

Shedding his jacket and gun belt, Rick sits down on the waiting room couch to take off his dusty boots. After clearing the small medical building, the comfortable furniture of the dental office was a key factor on exactly where they would be spending the night. Following a raid of the adjacent podiatrist, chiropractor and optometrist offices, they settle in to the spacious dental practice after filling their bags with a decent supply of sample-sized, over-the-counter pain medication, and enough toothpaste and toothbrushes to last them a while.

While Carl and Bailey have taken up residence in the last operatory room down the hall, Rick stretches out on the couch and reaches a hand out to Maggie. "Come here."

After tucking her gun and knife into a pocket of her backpack, Maggie sits on the couch in front of Rick to remove her boots. He rubs her back soothingly while waiting for her to finish. After a few moments, she lifts her bare feet to snuggle with his and lays down facing away from him, her back to his front. She uses his arm as a pillow while he uses his rolled up jacket to support his own head. He clamps his free arm around her waist and cups her breast, more out of a comfortable habit than to start anything frisky.

"Do you think Carl will be comfortable in that chair all night?" Maggie asks him.

"Sure, unless he lets Bailey sleep on it with him."

"Don't you think he'd be happier on the floor in here with us?"

"He'll be fine, honey. And wasn't it your idea to give him some independence? He's just down the hall, and he's got Bailey to watch over him. And I'll watch over you." He presses his lips to the back of her head and she squeezes his arm tighter against her. "I know it's not the Ritz Carlton, but I promise to keep you safe."

"I don't need a fancy hotel, just you."

"You're a cheap date."

"Mmhmm. Where would you have taken me on our first date if we'd met before The Turn?"

"The first date would have been dinner at The Landmark and maybe a show in Atlanta."

"Ooo, I've heard of that place. Hard to get into and very expensive."

"Yes, which is why our second date would have been to McDonalds and a walk around the lake. That's all I could have afforded after the first date."

"That would have been just fine." She smiles and turns her head to kiss the bicep beneath her cheek. "And our third date?"

"Ah, the third date is the one that seals the deal. If you're willing to go out with me again after the second date, I'd splurge and take you to a diner. Then after making you fall madly in love with me over a BLT, you'd bring me back to your house to meet your father."

"Oh, I think I would have kept you to myself for a while longer before I let him chase you away."

"What? He liked me just fine when I first met him," Rick says dubiously.

"Only 'cause he felt terrible about what happened to Carl. But don't feel bad, he liked you a lot faster than he liked most people after the world ended."

After a few moments of silence, a touch of emotion brings a huskiness to Rick's voice. "Maggie, do you think he would mind you and I being together now?"

She turns her body to look at his face and puts her hand against his whiskered cheek. "No. He loved you and he knew how we felt about each other before either one of us even admitted it to ourselves. He gave us his blessing."

"Really?"

"Really, he and I talked about it a few weeks ago." She smiles around the lump in her throat, remembering that day.

Rick smiles briefly with fond memories of the old man. "I miss him."

"So do I. But I know he's still with us, watching over us all the time."

"Well, hopefully not _all_ the time," Rick responds with a devilish grin before he kisses her goodnight.

Maggie wakes in the last of the pre-dawn hour with Rick pressed firmly against her back. She wiggles her butt against his groin and waits for a response, gaging whether or not he's awake yet.

"Mmmm," he moans against her hair.

"Are you up?"

"Am now." He mumbles as his hand squeezes her breast while his morning woody presses into the ass that is responsible for waking him up.

"Will it always be like this with us, Rick?" She whispers in the soft morning light. "I mean, I want you all the time, like I can't get enough of you."

"I don't know, honey. All I can say is that I've never felt anything like this before. Not ever. And yeah, I want you all the time, too." He kisses her neck and licks the shell of her ear, sending goose bumps down her arm while his hand moves from her chest to the apex of her thighs. He feels her moist heat through the fabric of her yoga pants and he gets even harder, wanting to engulf himself in that fire. Knowing they are short on time, he snakes his hand into the waistband of her pants, then inside her panties. He sinks his fingers into her masterfully while his tongue does wicked things in and around her ear.

"Oh, God," she pants as her hand closes over his on top of the fabric that he wishes she wasn't wearing.

He sucks on the sensitive spot behind her ear and fingers the tight cluster of nerves just inside her entrance, sending her over the edge. She grabs his denim clad thigh, pulling it roughly against her and then reaches back between them to grasp his erection, which is straining against his now uncomfortably tight jeans.

"No time, baby." He removes his hand from her pants to stop her from stroking him.

"But what are we gonna do about this." She gently squeezes his shaft through the confining denim and elicits a guttural moan.

"Nothin'." He pulls her hand away from his crotch and folds it against her chest. "Just ignore it - it'll go down in a day or two."

"Aww, honey," she chuckles. "I promise I'll l make it up to you." She kisses his hand and tucks it under her chin.

Less than two minutes later, Bailey comes loping down the hallway with a wide awake Carl not far behind.

* * *

><p>"We have to get out of here. I can't take another day in this place." Carol paces the floor irritably, pulling at the collar of her shirt as if the action will allow more air to enter her lungs.<p>

"I told you we shouldn't have stopped here. Nothing good ever comes out of this place." Michonne rubs the horse's thick neck, trying to keep it calm after spending two days tethered to a pole in the back of the small warehouse while the herd mills about aimlessly on the street outside.

"Like I said, I think our best bet would be to let me climb out the upstairs window, get onto the roof and jump down to move the damn thing that's blocking the back door," Sasha states from her position on the couch.

"No!" Tyreese stands up to argue his point for what feels like the hundredth time in two days. "Even if you make it to the roof, and even if you don't break a leg when you jump down, you still may not be able to move whatever it is that's blocking the back door. It could be a bus for all we know."

"It's a chance I'm gonna have to take if we want to get out of here. We're out of food and have very little water left and those biters aren't gonna be going anywhere unless something attracts them back through the tire barricade," Sasha continues her debate in hushed tones.

"I'll do it," Michonne speaks up behind Ty.

"Do what?" The big man turns to face his lover. "_Climb to the roof?_ No way, 'Chonne."

"No. I'm going out the front door, riding Flame. We'll run for the tires and lead the walkers out of here. I'll get them at least a mile in that direction while you guys run the other way, climbing over the barricade at the other end of town. I'll swing back around and hightail it north to meet you a mile up. Carol, let me see that map."

Carol spreads the Georgia road map over an oak dining room table with a ticket price of $875.

"Here." Sasha points to the entrance of a state park not too far from Woodbury. "We'll meet there."

"You really think this will work?" Carol asks nervously, yet hopeful. "Will he be able to run fast after being cooped up like this?"

"Oh yeah." Michonne walks back to her horse. "You can't wait to run, can you boy?" She strokes his large head and he pushes his nose into her shoulder. "Come on, let's get you ready."

"Babe, I don't know about this." Michonne turns toward the hand squeezing her shoulder. "There's so many of them out there." Ty's worried look gives her a brief feeling of unease, but doesn't sway her decision.

"It's our only choice. I'll be alright." She gives him a quick kiss and walks over to retrieve Flame's saddle from the back of a leather recliner.

"Alright, let's get our stuff together so we can be ready to make a run for it." Sasha announces, taking leadership of their small group.

While Tyreese is still trying to think of a better plan, Michonne gives him a hug and a passionate kiss before securing her foot in the stirrup. He helps her up with a hand on her hip, though he knows she really doesn't need assistance. "I love you," he says, almost as an afterthought.

"I love you, too," she says quietly looking down at him before using her thighs and heels to steer the horse toward the front doors. While Carol peers through the glass to assess the situation, Sasha jogs up to help with the doors, more than ready to make their escape.

"Okay Michonne, it's not too bad if you stick to the side here and then go toward the tires once you pass the library," Carol informs their heroine in a muted whisper. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, you just get out there as soon as it's clear."

"Good luck." Sasha looks at Michonne and then at her brother standing somberly behind Carol.

"Okay, open 'em up." Her long dreadlocks fall over her shoulders as she leans forward, close to the horse's neck, and crosses the threshold into chaos.

The doors close quickly behind her and Carol gasps as they watch the horse and rider trot into the center of the street, instead of down the side like she had instructed. _"What the hell is she doing?"_

They can only watch and pray as Michonne's katana slices through the air to sever the heads of several walkers as she saunters through the streets of the infested Woodbury.

"Oh, God. She's taking out as many as she can before she runs. Come on, baby, get out of there," Ty pleads in a whisper of helpless panic.

When the horde begins to gather too closely for her liking, Michonne turns to bolt for the fallen barricade at the southern end of town. One reanimated cadaver gets a grip on her boot, almost unseating her before Flame breaks away from the terrifying creatures. He runs hell-bent for the gate until Michonne can slow him down to navigate through the enormous tires. Once they are free of the enclosed settlement, she slows him down again to make sure the walkers are following them out.

Carol watches the last of the walkers stagger around the tires and into the open road outside the border of the late Governor's Woodbury. "Okay, let's go."

Sasha opens the other door as Carol steps out into the street, filling her lungs with fresh, if moderately humid air. She follows Carol's lead with her brother bringing up the rear. Ty looks over his shoulder after every few steps, torn between wanting to see Michonne, and not wanting to see her this close still. He has faith that she knows what she is doing and has kept a safe distance between herself and the horde. He has to believe that.

They reach the barricade at the north end of town and work together to get the fallen ladder perched up against the large bus. Climbing up quickly, they gain the roof in no time and pull the ladder up to position it on the other side, giving them access to the littered ground below, and finally – freedom.

"Where the hell is she?" Tyreese asks no one in particular for the fourth time in half as many minutes. "I thought she'd have come up behind us by now. It shouldn't be taking her this long."

"She probably took them farther than she originally planned. She'll be back Ty, don't worry. That woman can take care of herself." Sasha tries to console her brother, despite the fact that she's a little worried herself.

"She's right, if anyone can survive alone out here – it's Michonne. Let's just get to the park and we'll wait there 'til she shows up. It's not too much further." Carol points to a brown sign that says, 'Highland State Park Next Left'.

Ten minutes later, they come around a bend in the road and see a large rustic sign welcoming visitors to the parkland. To the right of the sign, they see a big brown horse grazing on the high grass while his rider relaxes on the rock wall behind him.

Tyreese nearly knocks Carol over as he runs past the two women to hold the warrior that he loves.

"How did you get here without passing us?" Sasha asks when she and Carol finally reach the rock wall.

"I took a shortcut through the park." Michonne shrugs a shoulder. "Nice hiking trails. 'Bout time you guys got here."

Carol rolls her eyes at her friends' matter-of-fact attitude after they spent the last hour worried sick about her.

"If we hurry, we may get to the farm before dark," Michonne continues. "Who wants to ride first?"


	10. Chapter 10

Daryl yawns in the doorway of Beth's bedroom, watching her change Judy out of her soggy diaper and pink butterfly pajamas. "Are you sure there's nothin' in the other direction? South a here?"

"I know you're hoping to run into them, Daryl, but the only baby place I can think of is up toward Stockbridge. It's a small row of stores outside the main part of town, so it should still have some supplies left."

Daryl had gone on a short run the day before to a nursery school not too far from the farm. He didn't find as much baby food and formula as he was hoping for, but he did bring back a decent amount of diapers, as well as a car seat and two Pack N Plays for Lil Ass-kicker. He was also able to fill up the tank of the Hyundai from several cars left abandoned in the small parking lot.

"Can't you just draw me a map? I don't like the idea of draggin' you two all over," he says around the thumbnail between his teeth.

"I don't know the street names, just the landmarks where to turn and stuff, so I have to go with you. We'll be fine. Won't we, princess?" Beth pulls Judy up by her wrists to wobble on her baby bow legs, blowing cool air in her face to make her laugh.

"But what if they finally get here and we're not around," he says tiredly, exhausted after keeping watch through most of the night after hearing a strange noise outside around two a.m.

"We'll leave a note on the door telling 'em we went on a run."

"Fine," he agrees unhappily. "Just let me catch a coupla hours sleep before we go."

Three hours later, Beth buckles Judy into her car seat while Daryl tacks his note to the front door of the big farm house. She walks up behind him to inspect his handiwork and reads:

RICK - WENT ON A RUN - BE BACK SOON. D. B. L.A.K.

PS – IF YOU DONT KNOW RICK – FUCK OFF!

"Nice," she says dryly. "Well, the princess is in her chariot, ready to go."

"Chariot, huh? I suppose that makes this her castle then." Daryl nods his head back toward the big farmhouse as he walks to the car.

"Yes, it is," she responds brightly. "Too bad we don't have a moat surrounding it filled with hungry alligators."

Daryl stops just before getting into the driver's seat and looks at Beth over the roof of the car. "Shit, we wouldn't even need gators, just a deep enough trench all the way 'round."

"That would take a looong time to build."

"Yeah… but it could be done," Daryl says pensively, wheels spinning and gears turning inside his head, already devising a plan for the possibility of this medieval defense mechanism. "Hell, it just might work," he says more to himself as he gets behind the wheel of the Hyundai.

* * *

><p>Rick kicks a small rock across the asphalt as the trio walks along the winding country road. They come around a bend and Maggie spots an old black Toyota parked in front of a turnoff leading into a private lane.<p>

"Wanna try it?" she asks him with a hopeful voice, trying to lift his spirit after the disappointment of striking out with the last three vehicles they'd come across.

"Sure, what have we got to lose?" he says halfheartedly, shrugging off his backpack. Pulling out a flathead screwdriver and small pair of tweezers that he'd taken from Mark Roberts' house, he opens the unlocked car door and sits behind the wheel. He reaches under the seat in search of keys, not surprised at all to come up empty. Tools in hand, he works the ignition delicately, feeling for the right click and precise tumble. After about 90 seconds, with sweat dripping down his forehead inside the sweltering car, Rick turns the ignition and the Toyota comes to life. He watches the red line on the gas gauge move slowly from left to right, finally stopping at just over half a tank. He leans back in the seat and closes his eyes, blessed relief washing away the last vestiges of the grimness he's carried for the last hour.

"Yes!" Carl opens the back door for Bailey then throws his heavy pack onto the seat and climbs in next to it. "Let's go home!"

Rick pops the trunk and Maggie lays their two packs inside. She climbs into the front passenger seat and gives him a million dollar smile. "Nice job, sheriff."

He smiles at her warmly while Jon Bon Jovi wisely asks, 'Who says you can't go home?' from the CD player mounted inside the old dashboard.

* * *

><p>Maggie looks out the window with a mix of emotions as they drive down the long dirt lane that leads to her old home. She's happy to be back, but heartbroken that her father never will be. She looks anxiously around as they get closer to the house, hoping to see a sign that Beth has indeed come back to the farm. "Do you see anything?"<p>

"Yeah. That fence has been repaired recently." Rick points to a small section of fencing where a few pieces of natural brown wood disrupt the run of smooth white lines. "I don't remember that being there before."

"It wasn't," Maggie says excitedly. "They're here!"

"Or someone else is here. Don't jump to conclusions, honey, you may be disappointed. Let me check it out first."

He drives around the house once, checking for any sign of trouble before parking by the front porch. "Stay here a minute."

"Rick, I'm coming with you. This is my house!"

"I know, I just want to make sure it's safe. Stay here with Carl." He tilts his head at the annoyed look on her face from the blatant excuse of his son's safety. He adds, "Please?"

"Fine – hurry up!" She tilts her head now at his irritated look. "Pleeease." She smiles with a little too much saccharine and earns a scowl for her troubles.

"Just stay here – both of you." Rick gets out of the vehicle and walks up to the porch, hand on the Python, looking around with every step he takes. He's about to look in through one of the windows when something catches his eye. A piece of paper is tacked to the front door, its thin edges lifting in the breeze. He reads the note from his family and drops his chin to his chest as all the tension from the past four days leaves his body. _We found them_.

"What is it, Rick?" Maggie yells through the open car window.

He turns back toward the car with a huge grin on his face and an unexpected lump in his throat. "Come on up." He motions with his arm and turns back to the door to remove the note. He hands it to Maggie as she races to the porch and then goes to retrieve their packs from the trunk.

Carl looks over her shoulder at Daryl's block handwriting. "What do those letters mean?" he asks.

"Daryl, Beth, and Little Ass-Kicker," Rick informs his son with a chuckle as he comes back with the gear from the car.

"Awesome." Carl laughs at the mention of his sister's nickname and returns to the Toyota to grab his pack.

They walk into the house, and the first thing Rick notices is the Pack N Play in the sitting room to the left of the foyer. He walks over and reaches inside the playpen, picking up his daughter's favorite little blanket. He holds the soft material close to his face, breathing in her scent. _She's here. They're here_. He looks at Maggie through glossy eyes, suddenly overcome with emotion. She hugs him tightly and he buries his face in her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist with the blanket still clutched in his fist. "She'll be here soon, honey," Maggie whispers against his ear, caressing the back of his neck as he holds onto her dearly.

* * *

><p>Three hours later they are sitting on the front porch in the waning sunlight when the Hyundai pulls up to the house. Beth is out the door before Daryl has his foot firmly on the brake, wrapping her sister in a fierce bear hug. There are tears of joy and tears of grief as they see each other for the first time since losing their father four days ago.<p>

"Dada Dada Dada." Rick sees his little girl through the car window but can't open the back door until Daryl shifts into park, unlocking all the doors. The click of the lock release is music to his ears and he rips open the door to get his little girl out of the car seat and into his arms at last. He lifts her up with tears glistening in his eyes and squeezes her little body against him, kissing her downy hair and thanking God for this moment.

Daryl gets out of the driver's seat to be greeted by the black lab. "Well, who's this?" He kneels down to pet the animal.

"Her name's Bailey and she's the bravest dog in the whole world!" Carl says proudly. "She saved Dad's life when these two assholes tried to steal our stuff."

"Wow. You'll hafta tell me all about it over dinner." He tousles the boy's hair, delighted to be seeing him again.

"Thanks for saving Judy, Daryl." Carl gives the man a mature nod and turns to his father and baby sister, taking the little girl out of their father's arms.

Rick lets his son take the baby and then turns to Daryl. "Thanks, man." He extends his hand for a friendly shake. The other man clasps the hand offered but they both know it's not enough.

Surprisingly, it's the reticent hunter that makes the first move, pulling Rick into a brotherly hug. "If you put me through that shit again, I'ma put an arrow in yer ass," he says in the sheriff's ear.

"It's good to see you too, brother." Rick chuckles as they clap each other on the back before ending the embrace.

As soon as Rick turns around, Maggie jumps into his arms, wraps her legs around his waist and kisses him soundly on the lips. "Thanks for getting us here."

"Mmm, I should be thanking you." He kisses her back tenderly.

"Oh my God!" Beth shrieks at her sister's outlandish display of affection toward their leader.

"Woah, what's this?" Daryl says with a smile, a little more reserved than the young blonde.

"This," Rick says as he kisses his lover again, "is how it is now." He looks adoringly into Maggie's eyes with his arms wrapped tightly around her back, supporting her full weight as their family looks on in wonder.

Carl shakes his head in amused exasperation. "That's what I've had to live with for the past three days."

Rick puts Maggie down and she turns to Carl. "Oh, you poor traumatized boy," she teases him. "Come here sweet girl." Maggie takes Judy from his arms and hugs her closely, kissing her chubby cheeks. "We missed you baby girl."

Judith holds a fist full of Maggie's hair while she laughs at the raspberries that the woman is blowing against her neck. Rick doesn't believe he's never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life.

Beth stops to give Carl a big hug before walking into the house, causing the boy to hide his blushing face in the dog's fur. Rick catches his eye and winks at his hormonally tortured son before following the others inside.


	11. Chapter 11

The sun has fallen below the horizon and the moon is lazily making its way up over the mountaintops to settle in for the long night. It's not completely dark outside but it's getting there.

The group is relaxing in the living room, not planning or strategizing, or even worrying about things to come. They are just enjoying each other's company after their brief time apart. The lights will work off the generator out back, but they have several candles lit to conserve their precious energy. Rick's arm rests across Maggie's shoulders with their hands linked as she leans against him on the love seat. Stretched out on the couch with an arm dangling over the edge, Daryl strokes the soft fur of the dog lying directly beneath him. Bailey had taken a special interest in the redneck. She loved everyone from the start, as labs are wont to do, but she had become Daryl's shadow since the moment they met, as if they were some kind of kindred spirits. While watching Beth and Carl play with Judy on the floor in the center of the room, the hunter and the retriever both pick their heads up simultaneously, hearing something that the others have yet to notice.

"What is it Daryl?" Rick asks when he sees the tension in his friend's shoulders as he leans forward on the couch.

"Someone's comin'."

"Stay here," Rick advises Maggie as he gets to his feet quickly and darts to the side of the window that faces out through the front porch. He takes the gun from its holster while Daryl loads an arrow into his crossbow and positions himself at the other living room window. Rick peers around the curtain at the edge of the glass pane and sees three figures walking next to something very large. "What is that?" He whispers to his partner.

As the figures get closer, the large object morphs into a horse carrying a rider with long dreadlocks. "It's them!" Daryl practically screeches, uncharacteristically excited.

"Thank God!" Rick releases the breath he'd been holding and turns back to the others, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. "It's Michonne. With three others. Come on."

They all follow Daryl out the front door to greet their waylaid friends. There are hugs all around but Rick notices one that outshines all the rest – Daryl and Carol are holding onto each other much longer than anyone else.

As the minutes turn into hours and exhaustion takes hold with Carol setting off a relay of yawns among the reunited survivors, Beth asks, "So what'll the room situation be with everyone here now?"

"Michonne and Ty can have the master bedroom," Rick begins, knowing that it would be too difficult for Maggie or Beth to sleep in Hershel's old room. "Judy and I will stay with Maggie in her room," he continues, looking at Maggie for approval and smiling with relief when she nods her head happily in assurance. "Carol can stay with Beth, Carl can have the fourth bedroom upstairs and Daryl and Sasha can have the two bedrooms down here."

"Can I sleep downstairs dad?"

"Ah, sure, Sasha will take the room upstairs then." He looks at the bronze skinned woman for acceptance and receives a nod and a smile of agreement. Carl's face lights up and Rick knows his son is excited to be bunking near his idol.

"Good, he can protect me." The hunter winks at the teenager though his ascetic expression never changes.

"Is that alright with everyone?" Rick asks the group, not wanting to sound like the dictator that he'd once become for a short time a while back.

Words of agreement float about the room but Beth and Carol look at each other, reading each other's thoughts. Beth raises her eyebrows in a silent plea and Carol nods her head. "Rick," the older woman begins, with her index finger clamped inside Judith's pudgy hand as the baby rests comfortably in her father's strong arms. "We wouldn't mind keeping Judy with us if you and Maggie wanted some privacy."

"Thanks, Carol, but that's okay." At the disappointed looks on the two women's faces, he realizes that Carol wasn't just offering to be polite – they really wanted Judith to stay with them, and he doesn't have the heart to turn them down. In fact, it would work out rather nicely to give him some time alone with Maggie. "But we can switch off every few nights," he adds quickly, "if you wouldn't mind."

"Great. We'll just keep her tonight then since the playpen is already set up in my bedroom." Beth reaches for the little girl who goes to her willingly. "Say goodnight to daddy, princess."

"Goodnight, sweetheart. Daddy loves you very much." He kisses the top of her head and then her small hand as she grabs his whiskered cheek.

The house settles with the stillness of the night once everyone has gone off to bed. Michonne and Tyreese are on the front porch keeping first watch while Daryl leans against the kitchen counter with a glass of water. Bailey is at his feet as they listen to Carl's soft snores coming from the boy's new bedroom. Though he'd been living in the house for the past four days, it hadn't really felt like home…until now.

* * *

><p>Daryl enjoys the peaceful calm of the early morning as his stealthy feet walk soundlessly up the stairs to the second level. He knocks quietly on the door to Maggie's bedroom. "Rick?" He whispers semi-loudly, face within a hairsbreadth of the doorjamb.<p>

The hunter hears a muffled expletive followed by a breathless, "Yeah."

"Are you up? Wanna go hunt before we take a ride back for your supplies?"

"Give me ten minutes. Ahh…"

Daryl smiles at the muted sounds of lovemaking. "Ten minutes, huh?"

"Fuck off, Dixon!"

He chuckles with every step back down the stairs. What a way to start the day, he thinks to himself. God, he's happy to have his family back.

~ / ~

Rick clutches the turquoise sheets in his fists, trying to maintain some control while Maggie drives him out of his mind. The sun is just beginning to brighten the light blue walls of the bedroom, but it is vibrant starbursts that dance behind his eyes.

"Oh, baby," Rick breaths heavily as Maggie's hands and mouth work wonders on him. "Slow down, or you're gonna make me come." His words seem to have the opposite effect on her and instead of slowing down – she bobs her head faster and squeezes her hand tighter. "Christ, honey, I'm gonna come in your mouth!" His whispered declaration goes unanswered as she continues sucking. "Oh, God, you do want me to come in your mouth, don't you?"

"Mmhmm…" She continues driving him senseless.

"Christ." Rick clenches his teeth almost painfully and holds her head in his hands, thrusting slightly into her mouth, not wanting to gag her, but no longer able to keep his hips still. A few moments and several strokes later, his balls constrict and hot seed spills into her warm mouth and down her slender throat.

"Oh my God, I can't believe you just did that." He draws her into his arms and holds her tightly against his chest.

"I can't believe I did that either," she replies with a proud Cheshire grin splitting her face. "I wanted to be your first for something."

"Oh honey, you're my first for everything. Don't you know that?"

"Now you tell me." Maggie rolls her eyes and makes a gagging gesture with her finger. Rick laughs and hugs her harder. "Do you know what the difference is between like and love?" She asks him sweetly.

"No, what?" He answers, still chuckling.

"Spit and swallow," she giggles and kisses his bare chest.

"Hah! You really do love me!" He laughs and presses his mouth against her hair.

"Told ya."

* * *

><p>Daryl follows the trail of what could be a good sized deer while Rick just follows Daryl. The ex-sheriff has learned some of the hunter's skills over the last year and a half, but he doesn't see most of the signs that Daryl spots easily.<p>

"So, you and Maggie, huh? That's nice. You deserve each other."

"Thanks. We're happy."

"Yeah, I, uh, heard how happy you were this mornin'." Daryl grins at his partner as he squats down to inspect some leaves.

"Yeah, your timing sucks!"

Bailey trots over to Daryl and sticks her nose under his hand for attention while he is down at her level. "Watch out girl. Gotta teach you how to be a huntin' dog." He massages her silky ears and plants a kiss on her forehead before standing up again.

"So, what about you and Carol?"

"What about us?"

"Well, you obviously care about each other," Rick probes.

"Yeah, we're friends, so what." Daryl shrugs his shoulder as he looks at the ground and walks further up the trail, clearly not comfortable with this line of questioning.

"So maybe it's time you guys got together."

"Ain't never gonna happen."

"Why not? She's crazy about you." Rick steps around a large moss covered rock protruding from the ground.

"She'd be crazy to want me."

Daryl is looking down at the trail, but Rick doesn't think he's actually seeing what's in front of him. "Why do you say that?" He hates the self-loathing he hears in Daryl's voice and curses Merle Dixon and his family to the devil for what he put this man through.

"I'm not good enough for her, and it ain't ever gonna happen so just drop it." He looks at Rick with such remorse for the damaged soul that was no fault of his own.

Rick's heart breaks for his brother. He wishes he could convince him that he is worthy of being loved, but there is only one person that can accomplish that. "She has plenty of scars herself, Daryl. They're just not as visible as yours."

"Look, just 'cause yer deliriously happy in love don't mean everyone's gotta be!" The sudden vehemence of Daryl's voice has Bailey stopping in her tracks and slinking to his side.

"I know man, but don't you want to be at least moderately happy?"

"I am happy, dammit! Now leave it be. Yer scaring away the animals."

Rick lets it go, knowing that it's not the furry creatures dwelling in the forest that he's truly scaring.

* * *

><p>The reunited family is sitting down to a breakfast of oatmeal, dry cereal, peaches and apples when Carl comes bounding in after learning how to clean and dress the doe that Daryl had killed earlier that morning.<p>

"Hey, Dad, Daryl wants to build a moat!"

"Not a moat!" The redneck corrects, walking in behind the excited teenager. "A trench."

"What's this? A trench around the farm?" Rick asks dubiously, holding his daughter on his lap while trying to get her to eat some disgusting looking gunk from a baby food jar.

"Well, not the whole farm - just the house mainly." He clarifies with a slight mumble to the words, suddenly not sure of his unconventional idea when all eyes are upon him. "I think it could keep the walkers from gettin' too close if we get another herd blowin' through."

"Huh," Rick considers, "that would work if we could make it deep enough and wide enough. But it's an awfully big job."

"I know." Daryl speaks faster after removing the fingernail that he'd started chewing on, excited now at the acceptance of his crazy idea. "But we can get a trencher attachment to hook up to one of Hershel's tractors. We'll still have to dig some to get it big enough, but it will definitely give us a good start."

"My dad had a trencher but Mr. Casey borrowed it." Beth informs them as she slices up an apple. "I remember hearing him complain about not getting it back. It must still be there."

"Where is that?" Rick asks, getting excited about the idea himself now. A deep trench could be just as effective as the high fences were at the prison.

"His farm is about three miles up the road on the other side. Not too far if you wanna go get it." Beth answers. "I'll come with you if you want."

"Can I come too?" Carl quickly jumps on the bandwagon.

"Sure," Rick answers, not sure if his son is more excited about doing something with Beth or with Daryl. "But first, Daryl and I are gonna run back to Bailey Lane to get the supplies we left there before someone else grabs 'em." Besides the much needed food and baby supplies, he really wants to get the pretty green dress that he'd seen Maggie admiring in Mrs. Roberts' closet.

"Can I come with you?"

"Not this time, Carl. I want to leave as much room in the car as possible so we can fit everything. I'm gonna clean out their closets so we'll bring back plenty of clothes too. Why don't you and Tyreese walk around the house and figure out the best places to dig a trench?"

"Yeah!" Carl is quick to answer, happy to be doing something as important, and cool, as working on building a moat – even if it is only a trench. "Beth, you wanna help us?"

Rick exchanges a knowing smile with Maggie who is perched on the counter, rubbing her thumb over the soft fuzz of a Georgia peach. She shakes her head at him slightly, warning him to hold in his laughter.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Many thanks to kawinki and bluecrush611 for reviewing and shining some insightful perspective on the Carl/Beth matter. Though there is some interaction between these two characters in this chapter – please, please, please don't read anything into it that would make you believe they are headed for a future relationship. Once again – they are not! Just let Rick enjoy the fact that his son is acting like a normal teenager as opposed to a ruthless killer.**

**I hope you enjoy this next installment – please let me know what you think. Reviews are enormously appreciated so please don't be shy. ~ Caren**

* * *

><p>The landscape whips by unnoticed as both men get lost in their own thoughts. Rick sits behind the wheel of the Hyundai while Daryl rides shotgun, their hair blowing wildly from the wind rushing through the open windows. A comfortable silence fills the air and Rick doesn't want to ruin it with more questions about Carol, so he bites his tongue and brings up his own relationship instead. "I'd love to find a jewelry store somewhere."<p>

"What for? Gonna give Maggie some pearls?" Daryl says sarcastically. "I didn't think she was into that stuff."

"No. A ring."

"Like an engagement ring?" Daryl sits up straighter and shifts his body to angle toward the driver, more alert than he'd been a moment ago.

"Yeah, and a couple of wedding bands."

"Wow. That's great, man. I'm really happy for you." The sincerity in his voice touches Rick.

"Thanks. Maybe you could help me propose."

"Me? _What do I gotta do?_" The stoic hunter suddenly sounds terrified at getting involved in anything even remotely romantic.

"Calm down, I'm the one getting married." Rick laughs, liking the way those words feel on his tongue. Though he'd been there before, it was very different this time. Perhaps because it was his idea first, no ultimatums on the table, as was the case with Lori. "I want to surprise her with a special dinner for just the two of us."

"Like an actual date - that's nice."

"Yeah. She likes rabbit more than deer so maybe you could get us a couple. I'll talk to Carol about making something special to go with it."

"When are you plannin' on doin' this?"

"I don't know. Depends on how fast I can find a ring and plan it all out."

"Well I know where you can get the rings. There's a jewelry store up in Stockbridge next to the baby place I took Beth to yesterday."

"Really? That's great! Maybe we can run up there in the next few days. Just don't tell them exactly where we'll be going, I want her to be surprised. "

"No problem. There's a small town just past the little row of shops we can check out while we're there. I didn't wanna do it when I had the girls with me."

"Yeah, I can't thank you enough for taking care of Judy for me, Daryl." Rick looks at him across the center console, genuine warmth and gratitude in his cerulean gaze.

"No problem, that's what families do… I know that now." Though the last words were barely murmured, they spoke volumes as Daryl looks away from Rick, scrutinizing the blurred white lines dividing the two lane road they are travelling.

The rest of the trip is spent in companionable silence and they work well together gathering all the essentials from the home once belonging to Mark and Allison Roberts. They return to the farm to see Michonne and Tyreese sitting on the platform of the windmill and Maggie, Beth, Sasha and Carl gathered in the hot morning sun on the side of the house. When they see the car coming down the lane, they break up their little powwow to meet them in front of the porch. Maggie rushes up to the car and wraps her arms around Rick's neck as soon as he's on his feet.

"You weren't worried about me, were you?" He kisses her soundly and rests his forehead against hers.

"Not at all," she lies. "I'm just glad you're back."

"Me too." His lips touch hers again and he hugs her fervently, lifting her feet off the ground as he leans backward. After a moment, they break apart to help the others who have already begun pulling supplies out of the backseat and trunk. Rick walks around the front of the car to grab a gray plastic bag that had been on the floor by Daryl's feet. He grabs another bag from the trunk and carries them inside the house, going straight to Carol and handing her the gray bag. "Put this in your closet for me. Don't let Maggie see it."

"Ooo, such mystery. I'm intrigued." Carol smiles at her friend with questioning eyebrows.

"I'll explain later. Just don't let her see," he says quickly and nods his head toward the ceiling, motioning for her to go up now before Maggie walks in. "Thank you," he whispers to Carol's retreating back as she heads for the staircase.

~ / ~

The house is quiet as Judith naps in her playpen while Carol and Beth sort through all the new provisions in the dining room. The sun beats down as Maggie, Sasha and Carl show Daryl and Rick where they want to plant a vegetable garden on the side of the house using the seeds that Daryl had brought back from a run to a feed store several days before. He'd grabbed every packet that he could see, regardless of what it grew. He didn't take the time to look at the pictures or names, figuring if it was any kind of food – they'd eat it. If nothing else, this new world taught them that beggars can't be choosers. He'd also grabbed a good amount of fertilizer and compost, assuming they didn't lose their potency over time.

"We'll start with tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, lettuce, green beans, spinach, bell peppers, summer squash, basil, onions and potatoes," Maggie explains proudly.

"It sucks that we'll have to wait two months to actually taste anything, but eventually we'll be eating good." Sasha grins and pats her hands on her flat belly.

"Now let's show 'em where we're gonna dig the moat!" Carl takes off at a slow run toward the windmill.

"It's a trench!" Daryl hollers at deaf ears as he and the others follow the enthusiastic boy's path to the meadow. They pass Michonne and Ty's dangling feet and catch up to Carl about 30 feet beyond the structure, standing behind a bright yellow X spray painted on the ground.

"Okay, follow me." Carl leads them across the field, passing bright yellow or orange markers about every fifteen feet in a large ring surrounding the house, the shed and the pile of ash that used to be the barn. It cuts in front of the tree line behind the house, with one opening on the far left corner and another on the right side near the front of the house. "We'll leave these spots for gates," he explains, "so we'll have a way to get in and out on either side."

"Ty said he can rig up something on wheels that we'd be able to move fairly easily," Sasha adds.

"Sounds great. Now we just need to get that trencher," Rick says, looking at Daryl. "What do you say? Ready to check out that farm?"

"Sure. Le'me get the keys to the pickup." He saunters off toward the house, Bailey at his heels.

"I'll go tell Beth." Carl rushes past Daryl which incites the black lab to sprint after him, ears back and tail wagging fiercely, joyfully playing her favorite game.

"Go in quietly, Carl! Judy's probably still sleeping." Maggie warns the teenager in a loud whisper and then looks down at her hand interlaced with her lover's. "So, you're leaving me again, huh?"

"It's just down the road, honey. We'll be there and back in no time," he says, reassuringly.

"I know." She puts her free hand against his cheek. "It just feels weird being apart after being joined at the hip, literally, for four days straight."

"I know what you mean." He leans into her soft palm. "Do you wanna come? I think we can squeeze one more."

"No, babe. You go have fun with your big boy tools and I'll stay here with Sash and plot our gardens."

He pulls her into a smothering embrace and kisses her collar bone. "I love you, Mags."

"I love you more."

"Never."

~ / ~

Daryl steers the truck onto the lane that Beth points to over his shoulder from the back of the cab. The vehicle pitches and sways over the uneven terrain of the rocky dirt road, kicking up a dust storm behind the rusty tailgate.

The farm itself seems untouched as they drive around a bit, fairly certain there are no walkers in the area considering there are five hens, one rooster and a goat milling about behind the huge barn.

"Well, look at that." Rick is the first to spot the farm animals and alerts the others to their existence. "Think we can catch 'em, son?"

"Awesome! Hell yeah!"

"We should've brought Maggie," Beth informs the men. "She always caught our chickens whenever they got loose."

"Alright, let's just get the trencher for now, and then we'll come back with Maggie and Michonne for the chickens." Rick smiles at the image of Maggie running around a barnyard after a few clucking chickens.

"_Michonne?_" Carl splutters, shocked at the mention of the female warrior. "What's she gonna do – _slice their little heads off with her katana?"_

"No!" The two men yell at the same time and a contagious fit of laughter erupts inside the truck.

"She's quick - she'll catch 'em for us, you dumbass." Daryl explains with a chuckling smirk as the teenager laughs in relief. He parks the pickup in front of the outbuilding with the tailgate facing the open barn doors. They exit the truck and Carl immediately walks around the structure to get a better look at the animals.

"Don't get too close, Carl. We don't wanna scare them away before we get a chance to catch 'em," Rick advises his son before entering the barn with Daryl.

"I won't. I just want to see how many there are."

"Six birds and a goat. Now come help us in here," Daryl calls after the teenager and then looks at Rick, shrugging an apologetic shoulder. _Sorry - your kid. _

"Come on, Carl." Rick gives his partner an answering shrug, understanding that the fear of his son wandering around on his own was what prompted Daryl's order, not the fact that they really needed his help.

Walking further into the barn, they proceed past open stalls running the length of the building to find the trencher sitting on a small trailer next to several bales of hay near the back of the barn. "Looks like he was getting ready to return it to Hershel. Makes it easy for us. Daryl, can you back the truck up in here so we can attach the trailer?" Rick turns to his partner to see him staring up at the loft, slowly moving his head as he scans the rafters overhead and then focuses on the four walls. "What is it?" Rick asks apprehensively, sliding his hand from his hip to the butt of his gun.

"I can build this," Daryl says pensively, remembering all of the framework he'd done working part time for a construction company in his former life. "Or a smaller version anyway, we wouldn't need one this big."

Rick relaxes on a deep breath. "Sounds great, except for one detail - you need wood, lots of it."

"Yeah, we passed a lumberyard on the way up to Stockbridge. We can check it out when we go up that way."

"Dad, can Beth and I check the house?" Carl calls from the front of the barn, holding a small stick that he'd been using to scrape sticky cobwebs off the craggy stall doors.

"Wait a second and we'll all go in together. Let's get this hitched up first."

Once the truck and trailer are securely attached, Daryl leads the way into the home of Will Casey. Rick and Beth search the kitchen cabinets while Daryl and Carl explore the upstairs. Finding a few items of canned food and more cereal, Rick pulls out a few plastic grocery bags from the gap between the refrigerator and wall. He bags the items for the ride home and turns to see Beth fingering a rack of keys hanging by the useless phone on the wall.

"Got it!" The young woman exclaims as she grabs a set of keys attached to a colorful keychain that advises you to 'Keep Calm and Take a Xanax'. She skips out the back door. "Yes!"

Rick catches up to her as she climbs into a claret colored Mitsubishi Eclipse parked behind the house. "Nice car."

"Yes, it is." She turns the ignition and smiles proudly when the car roars to life. "And now it's mine. Thanks bitch."

"What was that for?" Rick chuckles as he looks down at Beth in the little sports car.

"Ashley Casey was a stuck up bitch that flaunted her fancy crap in our faces every chance she got. I know it's not nice to wish bad things on other people, but I really hope she's a miserable walker now."

"Well there's a pretty good chance of that." He laughs at the young blonde, enjoying this feisty side that she rarely displays.

"Nice wheels!" Carl walks out of the back door followed by Daryl. "Can I ride home with you?"


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N My sincere thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave a review. The next two chapters are for all you Caryl shippers out there. Enjoy :)**

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><p>"Son of a fucking twat!" Michonne curses at the filthy creature that continues to evade her grasp as it flutters and squawks about the yard. The dark woman also curses Rick Grimes for asking her to do this, as well as her boyfriend who stayed behind to repair the chicken coop at the Greene farm.<p>

"Gotcha!" Maggie comes up with the fourth bird while Michonne tries throwing a towel over the enraged rooster, making it squawk even louder. Rick is standing by a large wire cage, ready to open the latch that already holds three agitated chickens, while the brown and black goat bleats from about twenty feet away.

Carl corners the fifth one against the red barn wall and falls on top of it, earning a peck to the hand before he can grab it securely. He stands up amid a cloud of dust and loses his grip on the bird in a fit of coughing. Michonne finally has her furious friend wrapped tightly inside a large towel and throws it unceremoniously into the cage, glaring at Rick as she does so. He offers a timid thanks, holding back a laugh for fear of her skill with a lethal blade. He knows the only reason she agreed to this was her love of scrambled eggs. Still, the deadly look in her eyes now makes him regret his decision to ask her at all.

Rick looks away to see Carl chasing his runaway bird toward the back corner of the barn. He smiles at the carefree way his son is pursuing the creature, running around in the dirt, laughing and cursing in the same breath like a normal fourteen year old boy until the charming site is quickly replaced by a vision that stops the man's heart. Rick watches as a very tall, very thin coyote steps around the corner of the building to challenge Carl for the food squawking between them. "Carl, don't move!" The beast growls at his son and then dashes toward the bird that has fled in terror from the additional threat. Rick grabs his gun from its holster and instinctively runs to protect his child.

"Hey, that's mine!" Carl picks up a small rock and hurls it at the mangy coyote, now crouched with the lifeless chicken in its jaws about fifteen feet away. The stone hits its mark and the animal lets go of its kill to focus once again on the boy, snarling in fury.

"Dammit, Carl!" Rick stops in front of his son, aiming his Colt Python at the wildly aggressive animal. Saliva drips from its mouth as the coyote crouches low, slowly advancing toward the humans. As the creature dips its shoulders and suddenly springs forward, a shot rings out, ripping a hole in the coyote's chest and echoing through the fields. Heart pounding, Rick looks back at his son, eyes full of fear and fury. _"What the hell were you thinking?" _

"I was thinking he was stealing our food!"

Rick curses the teenage wisdom of immortality and shoves his son toward the truck. "Let's get out of here before anything else shows up."

"What about my chicken?" Carl runs back to grab the dead bird.

"_Fuck the damn chicken!"_ Rick roars at his incomprehensible son. "Get in the God damned truck!"

Carl tosses the bird in the bed of the truck and climbs into the back of the cab. Maggie has never seen Rick so incensed. She knows it stems more from fear of what could have been, than what actually was. "He's okay, Rick."

"He's a stupid kid, provoking a hungry animal like that. He could've been killed!"

"But he wasn't. He's fine. We're all fine." Maggie lays a settling hand on his arm. "Let's just get the cage in the truck and go home. At least we'll have a good dinner tonight," she says with a grin, trying to relieve some of the wrath emanating from his pores.

They hear the back door open and Carl steps out, head hung low. "I'm sorry dad. I'll help you with the cage." Remorse laces his sincere apology as he reaches down to lay his hands on the thick wire, waiting for his father to grab onto the other side.

Maggie squeezes Rick's arm with a warm smile before climbing into the truck with Michonne, leaving the two boys alone. The man stares at his son for a long moment before grasping onto the crate and heaving it up into the truck. Thunderous rage under control, he puts a hand on his son's shoulder before the teenager can walk away. "Listen, Carl, animals are very unpredictable these days. We're all starving. Next time you come face to face with something like that, you back the hell off. Okay?"

Carl nods his head as he gapes at the ground, teenage stubbornness preventing him from meeting his father's eyes.

Rick pulls his son against his chest for a brief moment, presses his lips to the top of his head and pushes him toward the open door of the truck. "Let's go home."

Michonne elbows Carl in the ribs when he sits back on the bench seat behind Maggie riding shotgun. "Idiot."

"Asswipe," he retorts with a grin.

"Scumbag."

"Dickweed."

The insults continue for three miles while the wiry goat follows the slow moving truck carrying her chickens to their new home.

* * *

><p>Five days later, the air is a little cooler following yesterday's thunderstorms and the women are relaxing on the wraparound porch after working on the gardens all day. Beth occupies one chair, bouncing Judith on her knee, while Sasha and Carol sway on the creaky bench swing and Maggie and Michonne rest comfortably on the porch railing, backs against the weathered beams.<p>

"Oh, I don't know about Robert Pattinson, Beth, but you can bet that Sylvester Stallone is just fine living out in the wilderness somewhere. That man can take care of himself." Carol fans herself and nudges Sasha on the bench next to her. "What about you Sash, who can you picture surviving out there?"

"Um, I love Tom Cruise. He can be very wily when he needs to be." Sasha looks over to the yard where the men are finishing up their days work on the trench.

"Wily only gets you so far." Michonne adds her two cents, swinging her leg like a pendulum on the side of the railing. "I'm sure Russell Crowe is still hanging out on his ranch in Australia. He'll slice anything that gets too close."

"And you know that Gerard Butler is still alive and well in Scotland," Maggie says with a big smile. "Nobody would dare mess with King Leonidas."

"Well here comes your real hero now, Maggie. Look, Judy, it's your dirty daddy." Beth holds the baby higher so she can see her father, covered in mud and God knows what else as he approaches the porch.

Rick grabs the railing and pulls himself up, coming up behind Maggie. He leans in to give her a kiss but comes up empty when she jumps off the railing after getting a good look and a strong whiff of him. "Eww, grimey Grimes! Do not touch me with those hands."

"Well, it wasn't my hands I was tryin' to touch you with." He puckers his lips to illustrate his intent.

She laughs at his adorably filthy face. "They aren't much better. Go take a shower and then we'll talk." She holds her hands in front of her to ward him off.

"Good idea. Let's go." He climbs the rest of the way over the railing, muddy boots dripping on the wooden slats of the porch.

"You're not stepping one foot in this house looking like that!" Carol bellows from the swing.

"Leave your clothes here and go on up," Maggie insists, agreeing with Carol.

He pulls his sullied tee shirt over his head and smiles through a layer of dirt, making his teeth look exceptionally white. "Come with me."

"Oh, you need a good twenty minutes with a bar of soap until I come near you."

"Give me ten minutes and then you can do my back." He leans against the railing to remove his boots and socks, and then stands up to unbuckle his belt. "Excuse me ladies." He walks around the corner, out of their line of sight to remove his mucky jeans. He leaves them on the porch and walks around back to enter the house through the kitchen. "Ten minutes, Mags!" He calls through the front screen door as he runs up the stairs in his boxer briefs.

Maggie rolls her eyes but the glint inside them reveals how happy she really is to obey his bold command. She collects his discarded jeans from the side of the house and tosses them on top of his shirt to be dealt with later. She looks up to see Daryl stepping up onto the porch, looking and smelling even worse than Rick. "Just leave your clothes here and then you can go in and take a shower."

"I'll just wash up in the creek." He turns to go and Maggie stops him.

"Wait, Daryl, you can go in through the kitchen. Just leave your clothes outside the back door."

"Don't worry about it. I'll just go over to the creek. No big deal."

Maggie looks at Carol as he walks away. "I can't believe he's still ashamed of his back. After all we've gone through together."

"He's gone through worse." Carol says softly, empathy shimmering in her eyes. "I'll go find some clothes for him to change into."

* * *

><p>Maggie smiles as she reaches the second floor and hears the chorus of Bruce Springsteen's "I'll Work For Your Love" coming through the closed bathroom door. She stops in her bedroom for a few necessities and then goes to join Rick, still singing loudly in the shower. She opens the door and enters the steamy room, undressing quickly. Sliding the curtain a few inches, she steps into the back of the shower, coming up behind him as he finishes his song. She wraps her arms around his slick waist and presses her lips to the base of his neck.<p>

"Shit, Sasha, I told you we couldn't do this tonight. Maggie's gonna come in any second!" He cries in a panic stricken voice.

Maggie slaps his ass and holds in her laughter. "So not funny, Grimes." She steps away from him and he whirls around in the limited space, grabbing her hips and pulling her against him.

"Come on, maybe a little funny?" He kisses her neck and nuzzles her ear.

"Why don't I go ask her to come wash your back for you?" she teases as he cups her curvy behind and pushes his growing arousal against her belly.

"Nah, she doesn't do it as good as you. She doesn't get all my nooks and crannies like you do." He takes her hand from where it had been resting on his shoulder and brings it down between their bodies, guiding it to grasp his cock. She strokes his length and he captures her mouth, sliding his wet lips over hers and plunging his warm tongue inside, passion burning as the steam rises in the small room. He reaches down between her long legs to massage the delicate folds, already wet with need. "Did you bring somethin'?"

"Yeah, it's on the sink."

He sticks an arm around the curtain and grabs the condom while Maggie gets herself fully wet under the hot spray. He opens the foil package and hands the rubber to her, tossing the wrapper back into the sink. She rolls it over his shaft and lifts her leg over his hip, trying to line herself up with his erection.

"Hold on to me, honey." He bends slightly to grasp the backs of her thighs as she clutches onto his shoulders, binding her legs around his waist as he lifts her up against the tiled wall. Finding her opening, he glides swiftly, deeply inside her warm body. Fulfilling each other with every thrust, breathless words of love are murmured under the steady spray of hot water until they are both completely spent.

* * *

><p>The setting sun turns the sky into a potpourri of blues, reds and ambers as Carol walks toward the stream with a pair of cargo pants, black tee shirt, towel, wash cloth and a bar of soap. She finds Daryl sitting on a large rock, staring at the shadowy reflections of the trees gleaming on the surface of the water. "Here, you might need these." She places the items on another flat rock and sits down next to him.<p>

"Thanks, I was about to go back and get 'em." He continues to stare at the water, unable to meet her eyes.

"You know you don't have to hide from us, Daryl."

"I ain't hidin'," he says defensively.

"Then I'll wait right here while you wash up. I'll keep a lookout for you." She puts her hand above her eyes in a mocking search for danger.

"I ain't hidin', and I certainly don't need ya here," he says calmly as he pokes a stick in the dirt at his feet.

"Whether you need me or not, I'm staying." She bends over to remove her boots and socks. She rolls up her pants and walks a short ways upstream to step into the cool water, upsetting a large frog that had been sitting nearby. "Oh, this feels wonderful!"

"Do you mind?" The annoyance in his tone is lost on her. "I need to get cleaned up here."

"Go ahead, there's plenty of room. Don't worry, I won't peek."

"Damned woman," he mutters as he begins to undress. "Just stay over there!"

"No problem," Carol calls back over her shoulder. A few moments later, she hears the sound of water splashing lightly as he steps into the stream. She keeps her back turned as she walks out onto dry land to remove her jeans and top, and then wades back in wearing only her bra and panties.

Daryl looks up from washing his legs and almost squeezes the soap right out of his hand at the sight before him. Carol is standing in the water up to her thighs, slightly bent at the waist, giving him a clear view of a tramp stamp tattooed on her lower back. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it himself. "Nice tat." The words are out of his mouth before he can think and he curses himself for his stupidity. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean to look," he sputters as he begins to scrub his legs more thoroughly than necessary.

"Well, thank you. It hurt like hell when I got it," she tells him over her shoulder, keeping her promise not to look downstream. "Stupid thing is – I didn't even want it. Ed had made some comment that he liked the tattoo on some girl so I figured it would make him happy if I got one. Turned out, he liked the girl, not so much the tattoo. If you look closely, you'll see the three cigarette burns that he decorated it with." Carol holds her breath, hoping to hear the break in the water as it ripples around his form if he does indeed decide to come closer. After too many moments of silence, she releases her forlorn breath believing he isn't going to come to her. She drops her chin to her chest in disappointment, and then hears the water stirring closely behind her.


	14. Chapter 14

"Jesus." Daryl examines Carol's disfigured tattoo from just a few feet away, wishing her lousy husband was still alive so he could have the pleasure of killing the bastard himself.

"I don't even know what it looks like with the burns. I've never seen it," she tells him quietly, opening up to him through a veil of disgrace.

"He put them in the small loops. It really doesn't look too bad if you weren't lookin' too closely. What happened to your shoulder?" He asks about a jagged scar near her right shoulder blade.

"Broken beer bottle. His team lost the playoffs." She turns around to face him and almost loses her footing on the slippery rocks when she sees the nearly naked hunter standing just two feet away. She hides her discomfit and lifts her left arm, bending it at the elbow to point out an L shaped mark on her pale skin toward the base of her forearm. "I ironed his bowling shirt when we were first married and left a small burn mark on the hem. I told the ER nurse that I broke my arm falling down the stairs."

"Som bitch," he drawls with a vicious timbre to the simple statement.

Too caught up in her battle scars to remember to hide his own, Carol takes advantage of his close proximity. "You have some nice tattoos yourself." She slowly reaches out toward his right pectoral where a small dragon is breathing fire. "I always liked dragons." As if trying to get a frightened animal to eat out of her palm, she very slowly touches the colorful tattoo, and then moves her hand an inch to the right to trace a thin white line marring his skin.

His eyes never leave the gnarled stick protruding from the water on the far side of the wide stream. His breathing is shallow and his pulse is racing as her delicate fingers rest against his chest, but he finds his voice to let her in. He owes her that much. "Merle's jackknife. Him and his buddy were beatin' on some gay kid," he says quietly, reliving the painful memory. "I told him to stop. He didn't."

Carol hates Merle Dixon in that instant more than she'd ever hated Ed Peletier. She flattens her palm against his pounding heart and lays her cheek against his scar. "At least you tried."

"Not for long."

The misguided disgust she hears in his voice breaks her heart. _It wasn't your fault._ Keeping her cheek to his chest, she slowly moves her hands around to his lower back, letting them rest there, giving him time to get used to her touch. His hands remain in fists at his sides, but at least he isn't pulling away. Ever so slowly, she begins to move her hands, fingertips brushing over puckered lines and jagged ridges. So many ridges. Tears course down her cheeks as her hands search for any trace of smooth skin. She covers the entire span of his strong back and finds very little. Knowing there isn't anything she can do to heal those scars now, she does the only thing that she can think of to heal his damaged soul – she entwines her hands with his and kisses him square on the mouth.

His lips are soft but firm, unyielding so as not to encourage her further. His hands tremble as he fights to control the need to pull her roughly against him. He tries to remain impassive but his body betrays him as his dick gets hard inside his boxer briefs. He starts to pull back, only to have her guide his hands to her hips so she can wrap her arms around his neck, securing him to the spot.

"Don't think," she tells him softly. "Just feel." She brushes her fingers through his long hair and lightly scratches the nape of his neck. She touches her lips to his, the tip of her soft tongue trying to coax his lips open, inviting him to dance.

He fights it for as long as he can until a tortured growl emanates from deep within him, just before he opens his mouth to devour hers.

His unexpected kiss consumes her mind, body and soul as she grips his shoulders to keep from slipping into the cold water. His arms are like vices, clamped around her waist, holding her against his throbbing erection while he feasts on her mouth like a starving man. She kisses him back ardently, years of unchartered passion bursting free at his touch until she breaks the kiss to catch the breath he stole away. When he finally meets her eyes, she still sees a touch of anxiety at the edges, but he isn't going anywhere. "Wow. If I'd known you kissed like that, I would've brought you soap a long time ago."

"Uh, yeah, I should prob'ly wash up now," he says nervously. He loosens his grip on her but doesn't let go as his eyes are drawn to her succulent mouth, dying to taste her again.

She frames his face with her hands and leans in slowly, setting the pace now by kissing him softly, leisurely. "There's no rush, you can wash later." She presses her middle against him provocatively as he deepens the kiss, maintaining the gentleness under barely controlled passion. Knowing he won't make the first move, she reaches for his hand and leads it to her breast.

"If we go much further, I won't be able to stop," he tells her between kisses as his trembling fingers caress the soft mound through the thin fabric of her bra.

"I won't ask you to."

"I don't have anything."

"We don't need it. Ed made me get my tubes tied."

He pulls back slightly to look into her eyes. Anxiety is replaced by pity which she despises even more. "It's okay. It was a long time ago. Please, Daryl. You don't have to be alone anymore. We deserve this."

The tears shimmering in her eyes chip away at the wall that has surrounded his heart for so many years until there is nothing left to keep her out. The crickets chirp harmoniously with the birds as Daryl takes her hand, leading her to the bank of the creek. He spreads the towel over a patch of thick grass and she lies down, offering herself to him as the sun continues its descent.

He takes everything she is willing to give, and then some. Their coupling is primal - tender and feral at once, and therapeutic as they fill the holes in each other that lousy circumstances created.

Then, when the evening chill cools the sweat on their spent, heart-pounding bodies, he guides her into the water once again where she revels in the privilege of washing his back.

* * *

><p>Daryl wakes up with Carol snuggled against his side just as the sun is cresting the horizon. He kisses the top of her head lightly and slips out of the bed without waking her. Dressing quietly, he goes out to the front porch where Rick is already waiting, sitting at the top of the steps, forearms resting on his knees with a steaming mug of coffee between his hands.<p>

Dew glistens along the stretch of farmland under a thin layer of morning fog. The horses are loping about the pasture as the goat rubs her hard head against a post in her enclosure next to the chicken coop. Bailey takes her spot on a patch of dirt in front of the porch and watches the farm come to life on a new day.

Daryl finds his ceramic mug waiting on the railing in the coolness of the early morning. "Thanks." He picks up the green mug with the caption 'Hug Me I'm Irish' and takes a long sip, settling next to Rick for their morning strategy session - a routine that they've fallen comfortably into over the last week, usually with Daryl making the coffee as the first to rise.

"First time I beat you here. I guess Carol kept you up late, huh?" Rick teases.

"Don't start. Not a big deal."

"You can't possibly believe that!"

"No, it's a huge fuckin' deal but we're not gonna talk about it." Daryl takes another sip of the steaming brew, warming his insides. "It's not like we're gonna have sex all the time like you and Maggie."

"We do not have sex _all_ the time."

The hunter gives him a sidelong look.

"Really?" Rick questions. "That obvious?" When Daryl nods his head, he makes a mental note to tone it down when he and Maggie are in bed at night. "I guess I'm just making up for lost time," he says with a smirk. "Oh God, Carl hasn't said anything, has he?"

"Nah, I got the room below y'all and I'm a light sleeper. 'Sides, that kid wouldn't wake up if a bomb exploded in his bed."

"Sorry, man," he says sincerely. "We'll try to keep it down. So, we going up to Stockbridge today? It's time for another run." Rick takes a sip of black coffee to mask the anticipation in his voice.

"Yeah, might as well go hit yer jewelry store and check out the town." Though he's acting very casual about it, Daryl knows Rick has been itching to get up there all week. "Did you tell Carl what yer plannin'?"

"Not yet. I'll tell him when we get back with the rings. You think he'll mind?" Rick is suddenly apprehensive about telling his son of his plans to remarry. Selfishly, he hadn't even considered his feelings until Daryl brought it up just now, and the guilt he feels tastes like bitter coffee on his tongue. Carl didn't seem to mind him sharing a room with Maggie, but he realizes now that marriage will mean something completely different to the boy that lost his mom a little less than a year ago.

"He won't be thrilled, but he'll get used to the idea. He knew you and Lori weren't happy even before all the shit with Shane."

"He told you that?" Rick looks at his friend, taken aback at this news.

"He said you used to fight all the time, and he would hear her on the phone complainin' to her mom about you workin' so much. He knew things weren't good before, but it got better for a while after you found them with us."

"When did he tell you all this?" Rick is surprised at how much Carl had shared with the most reclusive member of their family.

"Before we got to the prison, at that campground with all the rats."

"God, that place was awful." Rick grimaces as he remembers the cabins they'd inhabited for a short period during that winter. "Well, I'll talk to him tonight, try to make him understand." He rubs a thumb over the lip of his mug and gazes into the dark brown liquid, hoping like hell that his son really will understand.

"So how did the little man do on his first watch?" Daryl asks.

"Ty said he did just fine," Rick answers proudly. He had been only a little worried about Carl taking the three hour shift before sunrise. He knew he was in good hands with Tyreese, and they were all only a stone's throw away if there was any trouble. His subconscious was a little more concerned, however, causing him to dream of a pack of enormous coyotes with blood-spattered faces surrounding the porch while a seven year old Carl hurled small stones at them from the bottom step. "I guess he's growing up, and there ain't a damn thing I can do about it," he says with a grin spiked with pride and satisfaction twisted around a thick rope of anxiety.


	15. Chapter 15

When they've finished siphoning all the gas they can carry in the four containers they'd brought with them, Daryl steers the truck around piles of assorted wood and back out through the gate at the entrance of the lumberyard. The sheets of plywood, 2x4's and 2x6's they'd collected rattle slightly against the top rail in the bed of the pickup as they bounce over a series of large potholes. It's not nearly enough to construct a barn, but it's a start, and Daryl is really looking forward to working on it as soon as the trench is finished. He'd already boarded up the car port so the horses could have some shelter from the rain, but a real barn would be ideal - and he knows he can build it. Truth be told, he wants to do it more for himself than the horses. He wants to impress the others, especially Carol, and show that he's more than just a redneck hunter with deadly aim. He knows he's proven himself time and again, earning their respect in the process, but this would be something he could really be proud of, something that would make Carol proud of him.

Twenty minutes later, Daryl makes a couple of turns off the main road and eventually pulls into the empty parking lot of a small row of stores. He parks in front of Goldman's Jewelers and the two men and the black lab get out, looking and listening for signs of danger before entering the shop. After peering through the plate glass window offering discounts on custom made jewelry next to the red and white sign that says 'Open', they enter the store stepping around a large dried blood stain on the light gray carpet near the entrance. Rick turns on his flashlight to illuminate the darker areas toward the back of the shop, Daryl ready to fire his crossbow at anything that dares to threaten them. After clearing the entire store including the storeroom off the back wall, Rick shines his flashlight into the slightly dusty glass display cases until he finds the selection of engagement and wedding rings.

"Do you even know what size she is?" Daryl asks, looking over his friend's shoulder at all the rings twinkling in the beam of light while Bailey sniffs around in the corners of the shop.

"No. I figure I'll just grab an assortment and let her pick the most comfortable. I really like this one though, maybe it'll fit." He points to a medium sized round cut diamond in a twisted band inlaid with a few small diamond chips on sale for $1950.00.

"Nice. Now, if we can find the key, you can get it out without getting broken glass all over it. Hang on." Daryl shines his own flashlight into the doorway of the storeroom. He enters the office area and searches through a desk until he finds several sets of small keys. He walks back into the shop and goes behind the counter, where the sales clerks used to peddle for commission in another lifetime. He steps to the case in front of Rick and inserts key after key until one finally turns, allowing him to slide the panel across, giving him access to all the dazzling contents inside. Like a professional, Daryl pulls out the display box holding the engagement ring that his friend is interested in, presented with eleven other rings of various shapes and sizes in the velvet case.

"That's the one." Rick pulls the ring out of its slot and holds it up to get a better look. It's pretty and elegant and he knows it will look perfect on Maggie's finger. Smiling in satisfaction, he puts it into the pocket of his jeans and removes the rest of the rings from their slots, dropping them into a plastic bag that Daryl had found by the cash register.

"Hold up." Daryl reaches beneath the counter and pulls out a small black velvet jewelry box, tossing it into the bag with the rings. "Now what about the wedding bands?"

"Grab those two cases there." Rick points to a selection of gold bands. "We'll need a bunch to choose from. I want them to match but it might be tough getting the right sizes for that. And just think, you'll have plenty to choose from when you and Carol decide to tie the knot."

"Don't start." Daryl warns, but secretly yearns for that day to come, finally letting himself dare to dream for something wonderful, something that might actually have a possibility of coming true in time.

"Sorry, man, I've been good all day! Can I just say that I'm really truly happy for you - for both of you. Sincerely."

"Thanks."

"So, how 'bout a double wedding?" Rick can't hide the giddiness in his grin as he teases his brother.

"Knock it off," Daryl retorts with a glare that lacks any heat.

"Fine. So was there anything else we could use from the stockroom?" Rick returns to the task at hand, shining his light into the doorway set in the back wall.

"Dunno. I didn't really look past the desk."

Rick walks over to the dark room and sweeps his flashlight through the small musty office, spotting the desk that Daryl had mentioned along with several shelves lined with boxes of various sizes. The beam of the light glances over a large box on the bottom shelf and then radiates off of Bailey's black fur as she investigates something in the corner behind the shelf. "What'd you find, girl?" Rick nudges the dog to the side, aiming his flashlight into the space to reveal a bag of corn chips and an 18 oz. bottle of orange soda forgotten on a step stool. "Oh my God, Maggie's gonna love this more than the ring." He reaches down to pick up the bottle, trying to think of a place to hide it before their big date and deciding to give it to Carol to keep with the clothes he'd already given her to hold.

"Don't forget the chips." Daryl tells him from the doorway. "You see anything else?"

After picking up the chips, Rick grabs the few pens and pencils sticking out of a decorative can on the corner of the desk, knowing it will make Beth happy. He scans the rest of the room before answering, "That's it, let's go."

"A'right, let's see how the town looks. C'mon Bailey." He whistles a sharp note and the lab follows them back out to the truck.

* * *

><p>The scorching sun beats down on Maggie's back, the sweat of hard labor pasting the green tank top to her heated skin as the day hits high noon. On her hands and knees in a large patch of dirt, spiders and mosquitos, she works tirelessly next to Sasha, Beth and Carl as they remove more sod to plant wheat next to their vegetable garden.<p>

Tyreese keeps watch from the windmill after working on the trench all morning with nothing but a shovel and his two hands after the trencher sputtered and quit with no fuel left to galvanize it. He watches Michonne brush down the horses after she'd taken Flame out to check the snares that Daryl had set about the land. Her motions are fluid and meticulous as she runs the curry comb over the horse's coat, grooming him as Maggie had taught her. Ty glances over to the gardeners, now gathered around the water pump on the side of the house.

Maggie holds the bucket under the faucet while Carl pumps the handle voraciously to propel a flow of much needed water. "God, this is taking forever!" The sweaty teenager complains, still thirsty after chugging a bottle of Evian.

"Alright, grab the ladle." Grasping the half-full bucket of cool water, Maggie holds it for Carl to scoop a ladleful of refreshing liquid.

"It's not even that cold," he criticizes grumpily after sipping from the ladle.

"Well, maybe you're just not getting enough of it - try this." Maggie pitches the bucket toward Carl, dousing him square in the face with a wave of water. "Is that cold enough for you?" She laughs with Sasha and Beth as he sputters in surprise.

"Hey!" He coughs and laughs while shaking droplets from his hair. "Actually, yeah – that felt really good!" Carl knuckles his eyes and flattens his hands over his hair, brushing the dripping strands off of his face.

"Sorry, dude. I couldn't resist." She gives him a thousand watt smile along with her barely sincere apology.

"Oh, no need to apologize, Maggie." He gives her an equally sincere smile, dripping with charming sarcasm. "Just remember - payback is a bitch. So when you least expect it - expect it."

The twinkle in his blue eyes reminds her of his father. She enjoys this playful side of him, which they need to hang on to desperately in this era of too much pain and suffering.

* * *

><p>Driving down Central Avenue in Stockbridge, compact houses with postage stamp sized yards give way to small businesses and restaurants, leading to an outdoor mall at the other end of town. Discarded papers and other assorted trash littering the main street kick up on the dusty wind as the truck rolls past. This end of town seems to be walker-free, but they can see a multitude of the reanimated beings drifting about the parking lot of the Sears department store by the mall.<p>

They pass a useless bank, travel agency, and dry cleaners to search a bagel shop, pizza place and diner. Daryl keeps watch as Rick checks for anything viable from each location and coming up with very little in the way of food. Even the Rite Aid had been picked clean of its food and medicines, but he was able to stock up on detergents, soap, shampoo, and toothpaste as well as some books to go with the games they'd brought back from the house on Bailey Lane. He tosses the bags of supplies into the bed of the truck beneath the wood while Daryl gets behind the wheel after letting the dog jump into the back seat.

"Wait, just one more stop." Rick looks across the street diagonally to a McDonald's with its golden arches looming over the empty town.

"Where? We said we wouldn't go further than the Rite Aid with all those things hangin' out up there." Daryl nods his shaggy head toward the mall, arms draped over the steering wheel as he looks at his partner still standing outside the truck.

"I'll be quick." Rick closes the door and jogs in front of the vehicle toward those beckoning arches, hand on his holstered weapon as it taps against his thigh with every step.

"Shit. Wait up." Daryl yells through the open window and pulls the pickup in front of the fast food restaurant as Rick walks up to the glass door and peers inside, gun now in hand.

Rick opens the door and walks in slowly, quietly, listening for anything that disturbs the silence. There is a unpleasant odor of rotting food in the stagnant air, but no decomposing flesh. He walks up to the fixings bar and bags all the sugar, salt and pepper packets as well as a stack of napkins. Stepping behind the counter where orders were once taken, he grabs a sleeve of cups with the McDonald's logo brandishing the sides, along with a message that declared Taste Matters. Turning to his left, he finds a stack of Happy Meal boxes adorned with Shrek and his fairytale friends. He picks two flattened boxes and puts them in the bag with the rest of his booty. Satisfied with his findings – literally grinning like a loon as he pictures Maggie's reaction – he walks to the restrooms to collect any toilet paper that was hopefully left behind.

After finding two and half rolls in the men's room, he opens the ladies room door and notices a light flicker off from inside the large stall designated for handicapped women. He says nothing but shines his flashlight on the floor space that is visible beneath the stall doors, searching for a pair of feet. Seeing nothing, but certain that his eyes hadn't deceived him, he calls out in his best Officer Friendly voice, "Hello…"


	16. Chapter 16

"I know you're in here, come on out." The fact that this person is hiding in the bathroom tells Rick that they are more afraid of him than he is of them, which wouldn't be the case if he were dealing with the more degenerate types surviving on the road these days. He quietly steps to the first stall and gently swings the door inward. He sets a foot on the commode and grasps onto the top edge of the stall, pulling himself up to look over the wall separating the two booths, feeling slightly like a pervert.

In the space of two heartbeats, his flashlight reveals a thin young girl with huge brown eyes full of fear, perched over the toilet while trying to make herself as small as possible to keep hidden from the horrors of this world. Before Rick can speak any words of comfort, she throws the door open, freeing herself from the trap she'd inadvertently put herself into. She is out of the bathroom and running into the restaurant before Rick can stop her. "Wait! I'm not gonna hurt you!"

Not trusting him, the bony waif runs toward the doors to escape, matted dirty blonde hair flying behind her until it falls abruptly to her lower back when she runs headlong into 190 pounds of muscled redneck, dropping the flashlight that she'd been carrying.

"Woah!" Daryl grabs the girl's shoulders to steady her and is rewarded with a thunderous kick to the groin, placed perfectly for a would-be victim, bringing the hunter to his knees. "Fuck!"

Rick advances on her left with his arms outstretched, trying to calm her down while Daryl tries to catch the breath that had been painfully kicked out of him. "Settle down, we're not gonna hurt you. We can help you."

In a quicksilver move, a short blade slices across Rick's left forearm, stunning the former sheriff as he watches her dash into the play area on her right.

"Shit!" _Somebody taught her well._

He automatically covers the wound with his right hand, blood seeping between his fingers. He removes his gray tee shirt and ties it tightly around the gash, hoping to staunch the flow until Maggie can sew him up.

Now in the play area with nothing but bright colored tubes, slides, nets and balls, she realizes that she has trapped herself again with no exits to the outside parking lot. She scrambles up the closest tunnel and lodges herself into one of the highest tubes with mesh covering the sides, leaving her fairly visible.

Rick follows her into the room and stands at the base of the enormous habitrail for small humans, looking up at the terrified child. His heart breaks for her and in the most soothing voice he can muster, he begins… "Listen, sweetheart, my name is Rick Grimes. I'm a police officer. Or I used to be anyway. My partner out there is Daryl Dixon. He's a close friend of mine, he's a good man. What's your name?" When she remains quiet he continues, "I don't know what you have been through, but I can imagine. I promise you that we will not hurt you. Do you have a family? Is somebody taking care of you?"

"Kristy."

The single word was spoken so softly he's afraid he imagined it. "Kristy? Is that your name, or is that the person you're with?" he asks for clarification that he hadn't dreamt it for wanting to hear something, anything, so desperately.

"I'm Kristy."

"How old are you, honey?"

"Ten."

"Are you all by yourself here?"

She hesitates for a few moments before answering softly, "Yes."

"Did your family leave you here? Are they coming back?"

"They're dead."

Rick hears her sniffling and his heart aches even more for this child. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Listen, I know you're scared and you don't know us, but you can't stay here by yourself. We have a group of people, very nice people who live on a farm about forty minutes from here. Why don't you come back with us?"

"I can't."

"Sure you can. We can take care of you. We have women and children there. I have a fourteen year old son who I'm sure would be happy to meet you. I also have a nine month old daughter who could really use a nice girl like you to play with. What do ya say?"

"What about him?" she asks skeptically, pointing a finger through the netting toward Daryl standing in the doorway of the play area.

"Daryl. What about him? He wants you to come too."

"No, he don't. He's gonna hurt me cause I hurt him and he looks mad."

"He's not mad, honey. We scared you and you were just trying to protect yourself. He knows that." He glances at Daryl who is still slightly hunched over and clearly unhappy. Rick shakes his head slightly, warning his friend to keep his murderous thoughts to himself. "Tell her Daryl."

Daryl glares at his partner but understands what he is trying to accomplish. "I ain't mad and I ain't gonna touch ya." He smiles at the girl to make Rick happy, but it comes out more of a smirking grimace.

"Really? Do you promise?"

"Sure," Daryl promises in his gravelly voice. "Come back with us and you can help take care of the horses."

"You have horses? What are their names?"

The excitement in the girl's voice replaces the fear and anxiety that Rick had been trying to breach. _Should have mentioned the animals first._

"Flame is a brown stallion with a patch of white between his eyes. He's Michonne's horse. Big guy, but gentle." Daryl explains as Kristy starts to make her way back through the piping. "Nellie is Beth's horse. She's also brown but with a longer strip of white down her face. She's known as Nervous Nellie 'cause she scares easy. I think she'll like you though," he adds as Rick nods his head in approval. _Nicely done._

Kristy slides down a bright orange tube to land at Rick's boots. She stands up and looks him square in the eye. "Okay, I'm ready."

After Daryl jumps over the counter to retrieve all the bags of coffee that Rick had overlooked in his preparation for The Big Date, they lead Kristy back out to the truck parked out front where Bailey's big black head pokes out the driver's window as she guards their belongings.

"Wow! Who's that?"

"That's Bailey. Is it alright if she rides with you in the backseat?" Rick's heart swells at the look of pure joy on the filthy child's face. He sends his thanks to the God who didn't seem to be listening to anyone's prayers these days, grateful that he and Daryl were the ones to find her, and not some deviants who would have given her a very different future.

* * *

><p>Carl and Michonne listen intently as Tyreese gives them a lesson in energy. The son of an electrician, he is explaining the use of solar panels when the sound of tires on the dirt lane disrupts the quiet afternoon. The trio looks up to see the blue pickup truck kicking up a plume of dust as it approaches the house. They greet the returning men with relieved smiles as Rick and Daryl climb out of the truck.<p>

Rick gives his son a quick hug. "How's everything here?"

"Fine. Except Judy's been cranky all afternoon. Maggie's on the back porch with her 'cause it's cooler back there."

"Where's Carol?" Daryl asks nonchalantly, but Rick sees the strong emotion in his friend's eyes when he mentions her name.

"She went to put flowers on Sophia's grave," Michonne answers.

Daryl immediately heads in the direction of the cluster of trees that keep watch over their lost family members, waving to Sasha on the platform of the windmill on his way.

"So how'd you guys make out? Find anything good? More Twizzlers?" Carl asks his father with a hopeful smile.

Rick puts his arm around his son's shoulders. "Sorry, kiddo, no Twizzlers. Come here, there's someone I want you to meet."

~ / ~

Maggie paces the back stretch of the wraparound porch with a finally sleeping baby in her arms. She'd heard the truck pull up and is waiting, praying, to hear the sound of boots approaching from the front of the house. After several very long minutes, the sound of Rick's footfalls reach her ears, allowing her to breathe once again. She closes her eyes as he comes up behind her, engulfing her and Judy inside his strong arms. She leans back against him, letting his hard body take some of the burden off her lower back and arms. "Mmmm."

"Hi," he whispers against her ear. "Rough afternoon?"

She leans into the kiss that he presses against her hair. "She's cutting a new tooth, been miserable all day," she whispers back quietly, praying the baby won't wake up. "How'd you- Rick, where's your shirt?" she asks, suddenly aware of his bare skin against her cheek as she lays her head back on his shoulder.

He lifts his arm to her eye level as a way of explaining why the gray shirt he'd walked out with that morning is no longer on his back.

"What happened?" The concern in her voice is undeniable.

"It's not too bad. Long story though. I'll tell you everything as you patch me up. Any chance she'll stay asleep if you put her down in the crib?"

"Probably not."

"I'll go find Beth then."

"No, she's in the shower now. Go get Michonne."

"Really? I don't know - she always seems a little nervous around Judith." Rick questions Maggie's idea of a decent babysitter as he rubs his chin lightly over her shoulder, his whiskers sending goosebumps down her arm.

"She's fine. We had a long talk the other day when we took the horses out, while you were out hunting with Daryl. She told me all about her son, Andre. I think it helped her to talk about him. She actually spent quite a while with Judy this morning."

"Alright, I'll go ask her. Don't go anywhere." He kisses the side of her neck, and then moves around her to place a very soft kiss to the crown of his daughter's petite head.

* * *

><p>With Michonne relaxing with Judith on the front porch, Maggie tends to Rick's injury upstairs. Sitting together on the edge of their bed, near the temporarily shadeless lamp, his arm lays across her lap as she closes the gaping slash with eleven stitches while he fills her in on the events of his day. By the time he's finished, she is really looking forward to meeting the young lady who had nearly sterilized Daryl Dixon and lived to tell about it. By the time Maggie had made her way around to the front porch after Michonne had taken Judith, Carl had already taken Kristy over to see the horses, delaying their introduction.<p>

"That poor kid."

"I know. Thank God we found her today before someone else did. The guys that killed her father and uncle last night may not have been too far away."

"But you didn't see anyone around, right?" She leans her temple against his bare shoulder, seeking comfort in the fact that he was right there with her.

"No, honey, we were safe." He kisses her forehead. "The town was empty." He didn't mention the small herd of walkers at the mall, not wanting to worry her any more than she already was. She knew how dangerous it was out there, she didn't need any help in visualizing it.

"Good." Maggie wraps some gauze and first aid tape around the wound to prevent infection, and lifts his forearm to her lips, sealing it with a kiss.

As soon as she raises her head, his mouth finds hers as his right hand cradles the back of her neck. "Thank you."

About to respond with the standard _you're welcome_, her words are absorbed by his lips as he continues to kiss her tenderly. Soft touches become more passionate as she opens her mouth to receive his tongue. Her hands come up to bracket his cheeks as their lips fuse together, tongues dancing in a heated ballet.

She leans back, pulling him down with her to lie on the bed so they can truly celebrate his homecoming. As her back touches the sheets, he shifts his position over her, inadvertently depressing the edge of the mattress and causing Maggie to spill over the side, tumbling onto the area rug that covers the hardwood floor of her bedroom.

"Oh, shit! Are you okay?"

"Oww," she chuckles. "I haven't fallen out of bed in years." She reaches a hand out to him but instead of letting him pull her up, she tugs on his hand to pull him down.

He lands on his knee between her ankles, and his face on her chest, which rumbles with laughter as she wraps her arms around him. "God, this floor is hard."

"Yes, but these are soft." She arches her back to press her breasts against him.

"Mmm… yes they are." He closes his mouth over a nipple, rolling it gently between his teeth through the thin fabric of her tank top and bra.

Needing to feel his tongue on her skin, she reaches down to grab the hem of her navy blue tank top and pulls it off over her head. Before she can remove her lacy, black bra – his favorite – he slips a finger inside the sheer lace and pulls it down, lifting her bosom and baring the tight bud for his mouth to suck and nibble while she weaves her hands through his thick, curly hair.

"Rick, the door." She pulls at his hair gently to get his attention when she realizes the bedroom door is wide open, inviting anyone who happens to come upstairs.

He lifts his head to glance at the door. "Don't move." He kisses her soft peak before crawling over to close and lock the door. Returning to her, he presses his lips against her taut stomach, removes her jeans and panties and then covers her body completely with his.

He feasts on her mouth, taking her breath away as she wraps her legs around his hips, grinding the stiff denim of the jeans encasing his erection against her most sensitive flesh.

Brimming with a powerfully urgent need, he lifts himself up and sits back on his heels to reach behind him for a condom from the nightstand. He places it on the bed and unfastens his jeans, pushing them down his thighs to free his engorged cock. "Come here, honey, lean over the bed."

She gets to her knees facing him, circling one hand behind his neck while the other strokes him smoothly, her mouth melting into his as she swallows his moans.

A minute later, she rolls the condom over his rigid length and turns around, placing her arms on the mattress and laying her forehead between them.

He positions himself behind her, kissing the back of her neck as he folds his left hand over hers, interlocking their fingers against the soft mattress while his right hand reaches underneath her, between her legs to caress her moist center. She spreads her knees further apart, flattening her back and groaning into the sheets at his magic touch. He kisses the side of her neck, up to her ear and then across her cheek until she turns her head to touch her lips to his. He takes her mouth a bit forcefully, plunging his tongue inside, demanding her attention in this life-affirming act, and then gently, tenderly as he rejoices in his love for her.

Her left hand is still entwined in his when he finally imbeds himself inside her, still with every glide in and out to create a wonderful friction of give and take, and even still when they burst through the heavens together in an explosive rhapsody of emotion, sensation, and hope.


	17. Chapter 17

Rick turns his head at the sound of the creaky hinges to see Carl stepping out onto the porch to join him for the next three hour shift. The rest of the house is sound asleep at this midnight hour, and Michonne and Ty are soon to be after retiring just a few minutes ago when Rick came out to relieve them.

"Hey, Dad." Carl closes the door quietly behind him and steps over to the railing to stand next to his father.

"Hey. You sleep at all?"

"A little. Next time, can you be the one to wake me up?" he asks with a note of irritation in his voice as he zips up his sweatshirt against the chill of the night.

"Sure. Why – what did Michonne do to you?" Rick replies with a grin.

"She poured a cup of cold water on my face."

Rick laughs at her ingenuity. "Well, you probably didn't give her a choice. I'm sure that was a last resort - you are not an easy one to wake up, buddy."

"It's not funny, Dad. My pillow is soaked!"

"It'll be dry by the time you get back in bed."

"Can you please just do it next time?"

"Sure. So you prefer warm water then?" he teases.

"I prefer no water! Just roll me out of bed onto the floor if you have to."

"Fine. Come on, grab the lantern." Rick aims his flashlight on the floorboards in front of him as Carl picks up the lantern from the railing.

As they walk along the back stretch in the cloudy, moonless night, Rick puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out the ring he plans on giving to Maggie. "Carl, I want to show you something." He stops walking and shines his light into his open right hand, illuminating the engagement ring against the lines of his palm.

"What's that for?"

"For Maggie. I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Carl looks at the pretty ring and feels deceived, angry. He knows that his father is not really cheating on his mom, but he can't help feeling that sense of betrayal. Worse is the guilt he feels because of how much he, himself, cares about Maggie, and how horrible he had treated his mom the last few months of her life. They cleared the air before she slipped away, thank God, but he will carry a morsel of guilt with him for the rest of his days. Just enough to keep from accepting Maggie wholeheartedly. "I'm not calling her Mom."

"Of course not. Nobody could ever take Mom's place in your heart and we wouldn't want that. I'm just asking that you make a little room for Maggie as my wife. A part of me will always love Mom because she gave me you and Judy. But we had our problems long before I got shot and the world went to hell. If I'm being totally honest, you were the only thing that kept us together."

"Oh great, so it's my fault you hated each other at the end," he says despondently.

"God, no! The feelings your mother and I had for each other - good, bad or indifferent, had absolutely nothing to do with you." Rick pauses, debating whether or not to tell his son that they'd come very close to divorce a few years early. Deciding he's old enough to understand, he takes a deep breath and continues, "The truth is - just before you turned nine, she told me she was taking you and moving back to her parents. I couldn't stand the thought of being three hours away from you so I begged her to stay and work things out. I will never regret making that decision."

Carl looks down at his boots as he rubs one hard toe against the bottom rail, remembering his ninth birthday party when his grandmother yelled at his dad for not making enough ice, not making the coffee strong enough and not replacing the patio furniture that she'd insisted was falling apart. He knew his father had put up with a lot of crap from his Mom's parents, but Carl always thought that it was to make his mom happy because he loved her. He never realized that his dad was doing it solely for him, and now that morsel of guilt rests itself uncomfortably on top of the other.

"How can you get married anyway? Don't you need a minister or something?" he asks glumly.

"That's not really possible these days, so we'll just write our own vows and have one of our group perform a small ceremony, maybe Carol or Tyreese, and then she'll be my wife." Rick explains gently, knowing that his son is having a hard time accepting the idea. "When you wake up the next morning, you probably won't even notice any difference. We'll still go about doing our normal routines - we'll just have a ring on our fingers while we do them." He smiles, trying to lighten the heaviness of the conversation as he curls his fingers back over the ring. "So, what do you say about being my best man?"

Carl closes his eyes for a moment as his shoulders sag with the regretful burden of hurting his father. He looks up at him with his heart in his throat. "I can't, Dad. I'm sorry. I'll come to the ceremony, but please don't ask me to stand up there with you. I can't do that to Mom," he says ruefully.

Rick is thankful for the darkness that hides the stinging disappointment in his eyes. "That's alright." He nods his head briefly as he looks out into the night. "I understand." He does understand but it still hurts as he puts the ring back into the pocket of his jeans, the sparkle slightly duller than it was a few minutes before.

Carl hates to deny his father's happiness, but feels it's his responsibility to defend the memory of his mom. "I'm sorry, Dad. I know Maggie makes you happy."

"I know, don't worry about it." Rick puts his arm across Carl's shoulders to lift his son's dejected spirit, trying not to brood himself as they continue walking once again.

"When are you gonna give it to her?"

"Soon. I'm planning a special night, a romantic dinner for just the two of us."

"She'll like that." Carl gives his dad a sincere smile and receives a tight squeeze of his shoulder in thanks.

"So what do you think of Kristy? Think she'll like it here with us?" Rick asks, steering the topic to more stable ground.

"She's okay, pretty quiet so far. Yeah, she'll like it here cause of the animals. She said she wanted to be a vet when she grew up and thinks it's cool that Beth's dad was one. Beth gave her a few of Hershel's books to look at."

"Oh, so that's where she disappeared to after dinner."

"Yeah, after she gave half her plate to Bailey under the table."

"You noticed that too, huh?" Rick laughs. "Well, we'll have to put a stop to that before she spoils that dog. I just didn't have the heart to say anything to her tonight."

"I know, she got upset a couple times this afternoon whenever she mentioned something her dad would do. Then Bailey would rub against her and she'd be okay again."

"The next few days will be hard for her. Maybe you and Bailey should stick close, help her through it."

Carl looks at his father soberly before responding, "It takes more than a few days, Dad." And just like that, Rick feels the ground shift beneath his feet unsteadily once again.

* * *

><p>Four nights later, when the dinner dishes are cleared and Daryl and Carol are keeping watch as they stroll hand in hand along the wraparound porch, the rest of the group is gathered in the dining room playing their fifth game of Spoons, a fast paced card game that Kristy had taught them.<p>

Beth begins the deal to Michonne on her left and card after card quickly passes from right to left around the table until Carl collects the ten of hearts to complete his set and quickly grabs one of the spoons placed in the center, creating a cacophony of slapping hands, screeching shrieks and sliding spoons, until everyone is holding a spoon except for Maggie, knocking her out of the game. "Ugh! I can never win this stupid game!" She leaves her seat with a laughing scowl and puts her hands playfully around Carl's neck in a mock choking gesture. "You didn't feed me any good cards."

"Hey, I don't usually win either! Dad's the one we can never knock out," he says as he shrugs his shoulders against Maggie's teasing grip.

"That's because I'm the fastest draw in the south," Rick drawls as he winks at Kristy sitting across from him with the tip of a spoon in her mouth.

"But you don't even look at your cards! How do you keep winning?" Carl questions with laughter in his eyes.

"I'm fast, and I'm smart." Rick explains. "Besides, I don't really need a set, I just need a spoon to keep me in the game."

"That's cheating – you can't play like that!" Carl complains with a chuckle as he argues with his father.

"Technically I can, until it's down to two people and then I'll have to look at my cards."

"Maggie, you gotta distract him so we'll have a chance to knock him out. If he doesn't play fair – neither will we," Carl strategizes as he gives his dad a challenging glare.

"Yes, sir." Maggie steps behind Rick's chair and places her hands innocently on his shoulders. He tilts his head back to look up at her and she leans over to plant a kiss on his forehead.

"Hey, baby, whatcha doin' back there?"

"Nothing, honey, just play your little game." She rests her chin on his head as five spoons are reset and Beth begins to deal to the remaining players. As Rick passes card after card from Carl on his right to Sasha on his left, and watching everyone's hands like a hawk, Maggie rubs his shoulders and whispers words of love in his ear until he grabs a spoon following Michonne's initial reach with her completed set.

"Shit!" Kristy cries when she is left without a spoon, then immediately covers her hands over her mouth, wishing she could yank the swearword back in. "Oh, God, I'm sorry." She looks at Rick with huge horrified eyes, waiting to be scolded for her language.

He holds in the laughter bubbling inside his chest as Maggie buries her face against his neck to hide her amusement. "It's okay, sweetheart. Just be careful not to do it again," he tells her in a soft but stern fatherly voice.

"I won't," she promises quickly, relieved that Rick hadn't yelled at her like her Uncle Albert used to whenever she said or did something wrong. "Please don't tell Carol I cursed. She won't let me have lunch with her and Daryl anymore if she thinks I'm pickin' up his bad habits. She always tells him to watch his language in front of me, but he usually doesn't, and I don't mind anyway."

Carol had quickly become a surrogate mother to the child and Kristy spent most of her time with the woman, proving herself to be an enormous help with the housework and taking care of Judy. They would have lunch with Daryl in the afternoons and with her quick wit and strong character, she had wormed her way into his heart, once he got over the fact that she'd tried to castrate him.

"Don't worry, honey, we won't say anything," Maggie promises on behalf of the entire room.

"Besides, even if Carol knew, she probably wouldn't be too upset about it," Beth tells her new roommate as she collects the cards for the next round. "She just wants you to be happy here. We all do."

Kristy gets up from the table with an unfamiliar pressure in her throat. She swallows it down and walks into the living room to play with Judy and Tyreese while the game continues.

"Thanks, Babe, that felt good. Keep going." Rick shrugs his shoulders and rolls his neck smugly, gearing up for the next round.

"Come on, Maggie, you can do better than that." Michonne advises her friend in her attempt to distract their leader in order to level the playing field.

As Beth deals the first card which eventually reaches Rick, Maggie leans down to nip the bottom of his earlobe as she snakes a hand inside the collar of his dark plaid button up shirt, coasting her fingers over his chest to secretly fondle a nipple while the game is played out in front of them. He sucks in a breath but gives nothing away, keeping his focus on the game as she glides her warm tongue along the ridge of his ear and then sweeps it inside. He fumbles the cards that Carl is passing to him, encouraging Maggie to press him further. She continues to tease the hardened nipple inside his shirt while she very quietly breathes erotic words into his ear about her own nipples. He coughs abruptly and completely loses his concentration as the cards pile up faster than he can pass them along. Before he can form a coherent thought that doesn't involve Maggie's beautiful breasts, Beth has her set of four and swiftly grabs a spoon, followed by Michonne, Sasha and Carl, leaving Rick empty handed while his jeans get tighter against his groin.

"Yes! We got him!" Carl celebrates as they all cheerfully applaud Maggie's efforts.

"Glad I could help." She removes her hand from beneath Rick's shirt and kisses the top of his head. "See ya." Maggie begins a slow, sexy strut into the kitchen until she hears the unmistakable sound of a chair scraping against the hardwood floor behind her. She turns to see Rick rise stiffly from his seat, eyes dark with desire above his devilish grin.

"Where do you think you're going?" He rounds the table and she dashes into the other room, laughing and shrieking as he gives chase. She darts behind the island in the center of the kitchen, but her illusion of safety is short-lived when a strong arm comes around her midsection, pulling her back against a solid chest. "Now, tell me again about your rosy nipples," he breathes into her ear, shifting them slightly so that his back is blocking any view from the dining room as he slips a hand over her shapely breast.

She turns in his arms as he backs her up against the refrigerator, capturing her mouth for a steamy, heart-stopping kiss. When she eventually breaks the connection to catch her breath, he rests his forehead against hers, gasping for his own supply of oxygen. "Sorry about the blue balls, honey," she pants, struggling to stream the words together, "but we'll have to finish this conversation later."

"Let's go to bed early tonight," he says softly as his hands caress her lower back just above the waistband of her jeans as their breathing begins to slow.

"I'm on watch with Sasha in another hour, remember?"

"Damn. Wake me up when you get in."

"You know I will."

~ / ~

Kristy sits on the floor next to Judy and picks up a couple of wooden blocks, clacking them together and then handing them to the baby when she drops her own blocks to upgrade to the squares that the older girl is holding.

"You're really good with her." Ty smiles at their newest addition to the family.

"I always wanted a little sister."

"Well, it looks like you've got one now."

"There was a little boy in our last group but his mama didn't let him play with me 'cause she didn't like my uncle. We lasted longer with them than the other groups though. 'Til uncle Albert got in a fight with Michael. I wanted to stay with Michael and his friends but Daddy said we had to stay with Uncle Albert 'cause his brother knew best."

Carol had told them that the girl's mother had been killed in a car accident when she was only three and she didn't remember much about her. They knew her father and uncle had been killed the night before Rick found her, but this was the first clue she's given about the kind of people they had been. Despite the rising temperature of his blood at the sheer stupidity of some people, he gives her a bright smile and says, "Well little lady, I'm sure glad you found Rick and convinced him to bring you back here to live with us."

"I didn't find him, silly - he found me!"

Her infectious laughter makes Judy giggle and Tyreese scoops up the baby to let her fly like an airplane above him as he lies on his back on the unforgiving floor. "Is that so funny, Judy? Is Kristy so funny?" He bends his elbows to bring her down and blows raspberries against her belly before lifting her up again as she squeals in delight.

Kristy lies next to the big man on the floor and smiles up at the little girl as a string of drool drips from her mouth onto his chest. Ty feels a slight pressure warming his shoulder as the ten year old tilts her head against him. He looks over at the little imp and sends a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens for letting Rick and Daryl find her.

* * *

><p>"It's been pretty quiet around here, do you really think it's necessary to have that thing out, 'Chonne?" Ty asks his lover as they walk the perimeter of the house just off the porch after relieving Maggie and Sasha.<p>

"This is my baby, she protects me." Michonne looks at her katana reverently.

"I thought I was your baby." He smiles sweetly. "I can protect you too, you know."

She gives him a sardonic look and bats her eyelashes coyly. "I know, babe. You are strong - but you're not as sharp as this baby." She holds up the weapon lovingly.

He rolls his eyes and tries to reclaim his masculinity. "I'm sharp enough, and I _can_ take care of you, if you'd let me."

Not oblivious to the minds of men, she decides to stroke his ego a little and sheaths the katana as they continue walking along the edge of the woods, hearing an occasional animal scurry in the darkness behind the tree line.

"I know you're just humoring me, but thank you for trusting me."

"Sure." She trusted herself more but she kept that thought to herself, along with the notion that she could draw her weapon in a heartbeat if the need for it arose.

She had been in relationships before and had walked the line of compromise as one must in order to make it work, but she had been on her own for so long in this brutal world, relying on her own guts and guile to survive, that it was difficult to go back to the dance of give and take for the sake of another. But she would make the effort for Tyreese, he was a good man and she was deeply in love with him. She just hoped he wouldn't be too offended when the time came for her to protect him, as would most likely be the case.

On their fourth lap around the sleeping farmhouse, Ty glances over toward the rubble where a barn had once stood, thinking he'd heard a noise. "Hang on a second." He stops Michonne with a hand on her arm and listens intently to the stillness of the night, shining his flashlight in the direction of the pile of ash and charred wood.

"What is it?" she asks on high alert, hand reaching over her shoulder to grip the handle of her katana comfortingly.

"I don't know, but I thought I heard something out there. Come on, let's take a walk." He grips his gun as she draws her weapon and they head out to inspect the area.

They pass the large block of scorched ground without any signs of trouble, but then hear a dreadfully familiar sound of inhuman snarling as they near a section of trench that has been thankfully almost completed. They stride up to the edge to find two decaying walkers trying to claw their way out of the channel. The guardians look quickly around for any other walking corpses that may have wandered onto their land. Seeing no other threat of invasion, Michonne dispatches the two captives with an efficient slash to each head, ending their lives for the second and final time. She turns to her partner. "We've got to get this trench finished."

* * *

><p>Hardworking hours turn into relentless days which become industrious weeks until two months have rolled by in a whirl of trenching, digging, tilling, planting, weeding and harvesting, until one early Saturday morning when Maggie wakes to find a note on the pillow next to her.<p> 


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N My sincere thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave a review on the last few chapters. It means more than you can possibly know! We are getting to the home stretch now and I really hope you'll stick with me 'til the end. Til then, I hope you enjoy this next installment. Now if I could only find a copy of the Entertainment Weekly magazine with Andy adorning the cover, my day would be complete! **

* * *

><p>Dawn seemed to break earlier than usual on this particular Saturday morning, or what Maggie believes is a Saturday according to Beth's calculations. She opens her eyes slowly, reluctant to meet the rays of the sun streaming through the sheer curtains of her bedroom window. Yesterday was another exhausting day in the gardens, but it will all be worth it when everyone can sit down to enjoy a nice dinner tonight.<p>

She would love to stay in bed a little longer, especially since Rick had kept her up late into the night talking. He seemed a little edgy lately, but had assured her that everything was fine. She knew he had something on his mind, but she believed him that everything was okay. He didn't seem concerned as much as distracted, and she knew he would tell her if it was something important. Still, it was nice to lie in his arms last night just talking about minor stuff and trivial things.

She rolls over to face his side of their bed, already knowing that he won't be there but wanting to pull his pillow against her as she does most mornings, breathing in his scent held inside the downy softness. She reaches for the pillow and notices a book with a sheet of paper lying on top of its cover. Unfolding the note, she reads _'Enjoy your day off. Meet me in the dining room at 5:00. I love you, Rick.' _

She sits up to check on Judith in the playpen but the crib is empty, he must have taken her down already. She glances down at the book on his pillow and sees that it's the Nora Roberts paperback that she'd been planning on reading for weeks, but never found the time with all the work to be done.

She reads his neat handwriting several times before pressing the note to her chest and the pillow to her cheek, silently thanking the man she loves more than life itself. Smiling at his mysterious behavior and thrilled at the idea of having a 'day off', she places Rick's pillow behind her head and opens the book to chapter one, looking forward to getting lost in the romance of Nora's characters.

Just before 10:00, Maggie finally rises from bed, no longer able to get comfortable after lying down for so long. She dresses in her favorite yoga pants and loose tee shirt, surprised that no one has come looking for her. _He must have told them not to._ She goes downstairs to find Carol and Kristy in the kitchen. "Good morning."

"Hi, Maggie," Kristy greets her cheerfully.

"Morning, dear." Carol looks up from the food processor after pouring a large cupful of wheat berries into it to grind into flour.

"Have you seen Rick?" Maggie asks.

"He's helping Daryl and Tyreese clear out all the burnt up stuff from the old barn so they can start building a new one."

"We're making bread," Kristy informs her proudly.

"Can I help?"

"No, thanks, we've got this covered," Carol assures her.

"Where's Judy? She was gone when I woke up."

"She's on the porch with Sasha. Why don't you go sit with them."

"Okay, if you're sure you don't need any help in here?"

"Nope, we're fine. Go relax."

Maggie leaves them to their wheat thinking that she can take only so much relaxation before going out of her mind. She finds Sasha on the porch with a bucket of corn cobs at her feet while Judy stands in the corner of her playpen a few feet away gnawing on a large plastic serving spoon. The little girl had started pulling herself up a few weeks before and is now a bona fide table-walker; not really walking freely on her own, but tottering on wobbly legs from table to chair and so on. She lifts her arms as Maggie steps onto the porch, encouraging the woman to pick her up.

"There you are, baby girl." Maggie lifts her from the pen to snuggle against her, hugging her little body tightly before settling them into the rocking chair next to Sasha.

"Can I help?" Maggie offers, shifting the baby to one side of her lap, freeing one arm to extend an open hand to Sasha as an offer of assistance.

"Aren't you supposed to be relaxing?" The dark woman asks as she peels the outer leaves off an ear of corn, tossing the waste into another bucket.

"I can only relax so much before I go insane. What exactly did Rick tell you guys?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she answers with artificial innocence.

"Come on, Sash, what's he up to?"

"No way, I've been sworn to secrecy." She twists her thumb and index finger at the corner of her tightly pursed lips as a symbol of promised silence.

"Fine. Then just hand me a piece of corn so I can help you," Maggie insists.

"What part of _relaxing_ don't you understand, girl?"

"I am relaxing, dammit." She looks at her friend and pastes an almost sincere smile on her face. "I find shucking corn very relaxing. Now, can you please move the bucket over here so I can get my hands on them? Judy's gonna help me."

Her forged smile doesn't fool Sasha but she knows Maggie needs something to keep her busy, so she pulls the bucket over to sit between the two chairs.

After finishing with the corn, Sasha adamantly refuses to let her help with the green beans, so Maggie just keeps her company as the baby falls asleep in her arms with the steady motion of the rocker. Eventually, she lays Judith in the playpen to finish her nap and searches for Beth who was supposedly preparing the chicken that was sacrificed for tonight's feast celebrating the completion of the trench.

After finding her sister plucking the chicken with help from Michonne, and being told that her assistance wasn't necessary, Maggie retires with her book to a rocker in the shade of the back porch, occasionally looking over at Rick as he removes scorched planks and seared beams from the rubble, tirelessly going back for more. She feels slightly guilty for doing absolutely nothing while he works his ass off, and vows to make it up to him tonight. They had been working so hard lately that many nights were spent just falling asleep in each other's arms as soon as they got into bed, completely and utterly exhausted. Tonight, she doesn't care how tired he is, she is not going to let him fall asleep before she can thank him properly for giving her this day to herself.

Two hours later, she strolls back into the kitchen. "Okay, what can I do, Carol? I'm not asking – I'm demanding. So just give me something. I can't sit around all day watching you guys do all the work."

"Alright, sweetie. You can make the salad dressing." Carol takes a large bag from the pantry and places it on the table. "You can use that bowl." She nods to a large bowl on the counter while reaching into the bag and pulling out a handful of ketchup and mayonnaise packets and placing them on the table. "Start with ten of each and see how much that makes. We can add a little bit of onion after. Hopefully everyone likes Russian dressing."

At 3:30 Maggie is still in the kitchen with Carol and Kristy when Michonne brings her a plush towel, shampoo, body wash and a new loofa with instructions to go up to the master bathroom for a nice long soak in the big tub before getting ready for her date.

~ / ~

At 3:45 Rick heads into the house to shower, excited and slightly nervous, anxious to have everything go well. Carol stops him at the top of the staircase to hand him Hershel's old electric razor.

"Don't take it all off - you don't want to shock her with a baby face. Just give it a really good trim. Your clothes are already in the bathroom for you."

"And Maggie's dress?"

"It's all ready. Beth will deliver the bag to her as instructed."

"Thank you." He kisses her cheek warmly and takes the razor to the hall bathroom for some serious grooming.

Thirty minutes later he's walking down the stairs dressed in black chinos, white dress shirt with a burgundy tie striped diagonally with several thin black lines, and a pair of snug fitting black dress shoes that Tyreese had found in the back of Hershel's closet_. _Slipping his feet into his dear friend's shoes was an emotional task. _ I wish you were here so I could have officially asked you for her hand. Man, I just wish you were here._

He enters the dining room to find Beth placing her portable CD player on the credenza, loaded with one of Maggie's CD's – a mix of her favorite love songs that she'd downloaded from the internet back when there was such a thing. "Thanks, Beth."

"You're welcome." She squats down to open a cabinet beneath the CD player and pulls out a box of taper candles and several candle holders. "I'll grab the candles from the other rooms and then go bring Maggie her dress."

"Great. Thanks again for all your help."

"No problem. Just keep my sister happy." She gives him a quick hug and goes off to retrieve more candles.

Rick heads into the kitchen for a lighter and nearly bumps into Carl and Kristy carrying dishes for two place settings. "Sorry, Dad."

"My bad. Just set it all up at this end of the table so you guys don't have to walk too far." He steps out of their path and then further into the kitchen. "How's it comin' in here?" he asks Carol as he opens the drawer that contains several lighters.

"It's good. We're right on schedule," she assures him as she slices a cucumber to add to the large bowl of lettuce, tomatoes and carrots in front of her.

"Great. I can't tell you how much this means to me. I really appreciate everything you guys have done to help me with tonight. Really."

"I know. We really appreciate all you've done for us too, Rick. This is the least we could do for you." Her warm smile and kind words touch him deeply, forcing him to clear his throat as he closes the drawer before returning to the dining room with a lighter.

* * *

><p>At 4:30 Maggie is looking in her closet for something to wear, unsure of what he has planned, but wanting to look nice for him anyway. Settling on a dark gray blouse to go with a black skirt that she hadn't worn in years, over his favorite black bra and panties, her hand stills momentarily on the hanger when her sister knocks on her bedroom door. She lays the blouse on her bed and opens the door.<p>

"This is from Rick." Beth hands her a shopping bag and gives her a tight hug. "Have fun tonight."

"Thanks. You wanna fill me in on what's going on?" Maggie asks, still pressing for information about the mysterious evening that Rick has planned for her.

"Nope." Beth replies sweetly and disappears down the stairs.

Maggie looks into the bag her sister had just delivered and sees a sheet of note paper lying on top of something green. She lifts the note and reads,_ 'I've been saving this for tonight. Can't wait to see you in it. I love you, Rick'. _She places the bag on the bed and reaches inside to pull out the pretty teal green dress that she had seen in Allison Roberts' closet on Bailey Lane. _My God, you remembered_. She holds the dress against her in front of the full length mirror on her closet door, excited to put it on. It's loose and low-cut on the top and form fitting at the hips, the hemline stopping a few inches above her knees.

After teasing her hair to give her natural wave a little more body and applying a touch of eye makeup, she heads to the staircase at 5:00 sharp, extremely excited and slightly nervous. On the second step down, she lifts her eyes to see Rick standing at the bottom of the stairs, hands casually in his pockets and looking absolutely delicious as he gazes up at her. He smiles warmly and her heart skips a beat before she continues down the long staircase to her destiny waiting in a pair of familiar dress shoes on the first floor.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Many thanks to my lovely reviewers for giving me your time and energy. It really means so much to me! And now - I give you Rick at his romantic best…**

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><p>Their eyes hold each other's with every step that Maggie takes to close the gap between them until she is standing on the hardwood floor in front of him.<p>

"Hi," He says softly, taking her hand and bringing it up to his mouth, pressing his lips to the back of it.

"Hi," she responds, her four inch silver pumps bringing her nearly eye level with him.

"You look amazing, Honey."

"Thank you for the dress. You clean up very nicely yourself." She places her free hand on his cheek, appreciating the nice layer of stubble still covering it. "I'm glad you didn't shave it all."

"Carol told me not to shock you."

"Smart woman."

"Shall we?" he asks, offering his elbow to escort her into the dining room.

Taking Rick's arm and following his lead, Maggie hears soft music playing and smells something delectable as they meet Kristy in front of the dining room where a cardboard sign hangs on the wall displaying 'The Landmark' written in neat Sharpie marker calligraphy.

"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?" The young lady asks the couple in a very professional manner.

"Yes, ma'am. Grimes, party of two."

Kristy scans her clipboard, pretending to look down a long list of names, "Yes, there you are. Right this way please."

They step into the room among candles flickering from every direction. "Oh, Rick. This is wonderful."

He pulls out the chair at the head of the table for her and then takes the seat to her right. Carl enters from the kitchen wearing a sport coat that is two sizes too big and carrying a round tray holding one bottle of Evian water and one bottle of orange soda. He lowers the tray so Rick can take the drinks.

"Oh, my God!" Maggie cries when Rick places the bottle next to her plate. "Where did you find that?"

"On a run a few weeks ago. I saved it for tonight - I hope you don't mind." He unscrews the cap and fills her cup with her favorite soft drink.

"No, I'm glad you did. It's perfect for tonight." She smiles at him and then notices the writing on the cup in front of her. "Hah - it's McDonald's!" she laughs, thoroughly enjoying her evening. "Hey, that was supposed to be our second date, _after_ The Landmark."

"I know. But I don't think we'll be able to do this too often so I had to combine our first two dates."

Carl places his tray on the credenza and picks up a small note pad, turning back to the table. "Welcome to The Landmark. Tonight's specials are chicken, chicken, or um, chicken. What would you like to order?"

"We'll have the second chicken." Rick answers for both of them as he pours the Evian into his cup.

"Good choice, coming right up." Carl returns to the kitchen passing Tyreese on the way.

"Good evening, sir. Ma'am." Ty, wearing a sport coat that's at least one size too small for his large frame, puts his tray over the one Carl had left and serves them each a delicious looking salad and a basket of bread. "Your main course will be out shortly."

"Thanks, Ty," Rick tells his friend, feeling badly that they didn't have a larger jacket for the big man.

"I can't believe you did all this, Honey. It's amazing."

"It was a joint effort, believe me." He lifts his cup of water and holds it out to her, signaling for her to do the same. "To us."

"To us." She smiles at him affectionately and touches her cup to his before they dig into their first course.

Ten minutes later, Tyreese returns with a tray carrying two plates of breaded chicken breasts and green beans. Beside the plates are two McDonalds Happy Meal boxes filled with French fries.

"Oh, my God! This is the Best. Date. Ever. Thank you, Honey."

"You're welcome."

Halfway through their main courses, Carl returns with a plate of Chips Ahoy cookies. "Here's your dessert, and here's the check." He places a small slip of paper on the table in front of his father. "Don't forget to leave a good tip for your waiter." He jokes and runs outside to join the rest of their family for a barbeque in the front yard.

They enjoy their meal in easy conversation and comfortable companionship while the candles burn slowly, forming waxy stalactites down the sides. Maggie is finishing her second cookie when Garth Brooks begins to sing softly from the CD player. "Ooh, this is my favorite song." She closes her eyes to get lost in the melody, appreciating the sound of music so rarely heard these days.

Rick wipes his mouth and drops the napkin on the table as he rises from his seat, extending a hand to her. "May I please have this dance?"

She puts her hand in his, feeling faintly like a princess from a fairytale. He leads her a few steps away from the table and folds her hand against his chest while his arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closely to him as they begin to sway to the pretty song.

His stubbly whiskers tickle her cheek as he begins to sing softly,

"I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue

I'd go crawling down the avenue

There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do

To make you feel my love."

.

"The storms are raging on the rolling sea

Down on the highway of regret

The winds of change are blowing wild and free

But you ain't seen nothing like me yet."

.

"There's nothing that I wouldn't do

Go to the ends of the earth for you

Make you happy, make your dreams come true

To make you feel my love."

.

She closes her eyes, absorbing his voice with the words and wondering how she ever got so lucky. "God, Honey, I don't want this night to ever end."

"It doesn't have to." He kisses her temple and sinks down to kneel on one bent knee, taking both of her hands in his as his blue eyes bore into her green ones. "I love you, Maggie. More than you can possibly imagine. You are my light, my strength, my hope." He lets go of her hands to reach into his pocket and she chokes back a sob, her fists rising to cover her mouth as she realizes what he is about to do. He opens the small black velvet jewelry box to reveal the glittering round cut diamond ring inside. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" he asks solemnly as the depth of his feelings builds heavily behind his eyes.

"Yes," she whispers through a flood of emotion as she kneels on the floor at his level before giving him a chance to rise. She wraps her arms tightly around his neck as he lowers his other knee to the floor and pulls her securely against him. "Yes, of course." She leans back to kiss him soundly, tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. "I love you."

"Thank, Christ," he breathes against her mouth before angling his head to deepen the kiss.

She feels his growing arousal against her belly and pulls back after a minute of soul-searing kisses. "Maybe we should finish this conversation upstairs," she says breathlessly.

"Yes, but first things first." He collects her left hand from his shoulder and places it against his chest. "Don't move." He extracts the ring from the small box which will signify their engagement and brings it up to her hand. "Okay, let's make this official." Praying it will fit, he gently slides the ring over her knuckle to rest comfortably at the base of her left ring finger… a perfect fit.

Maggie stares at the ring, appreciating all that it means. "Oh, Rick, it's perfect."

"So are you." He presses his lips to hers briefly. "Come on, let's go up." He pushes himself up from the floor and then helps her to get to her feet. After extinguishing all the candles, he grabs the CD player to take with them.

"Should we bring some candles up?" Maggie suggests.

"Don't need to," he answers, smiling at her suspicious expression.

She leads him into the bedroom and he locks the door behind them. He sets the music on her dresser, now playing Kenny Chesney's 'You Save Me'.

"Wow, I guess somebody was busy while we were eating dinner." She stands in the center of the room, turning slowly as she looks at all the candles that had not been there when she'd left her room earlier. "I can't believe you organized all this," she says, astounded at his efforts to make this night special.

"Don't move." Rick kisses her cheek and picks up the lighter, proceeding to light every candle that Beth and Michonne had placed. The final one lit, he loosens his tie and steps behind Maggie, brushing the hair off her neck to gain access to the zipper of her dress. Her hands come up to hold her hair out of his way and he kisses her nape as he finds the small metal piece, pulling it down until it stops just above the curve of her rear end, revealing a long strip of unblemished skin divided by a black bra strap.

He slides the dress off her shoulders letting it pool around her heels, leaving her standing in his favorite bra and panties. His hands come up to caress her breasts, kneading them over the silky material, pressing her back against his hard body. One hand slips inside the soft bra to tease the sensitive bud, while his other hand skims slowly over her abdomen to cup her mound. She lays her head back on his shoulder and grips his thighs through the smooth fabric of his chinos, feeling the stiffness of his arousal pressing against her backside. He slips his hand inside the snug lace of her panties and inserts a long finger into her warm crevasse.

"Oh, God, I love you," she breathes as his lips press against the junction of her neck and shoulder while his fingers work wonders, weakening her legs.

She presses her ass against his raging hard on, causing him to bite softly into the flesh of her collarbone. He removes his hands from her heated body and takes a step back to sit on the cushiony mattress of their bed. "Come here, love."

She steps between his thighs and raises one knee to rest on the jumbled sheets next to his hip. She puts her arms around his neck as he deftly unhooks the clasp of her bra to slide the confining garment off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Taking an exposed nipple into his mouth, he massages her curvaceous rear-end before returning a hand to the warmth of her center.

She groans his name when he skids over her G-spot, again and again. "Oh, Baby, I can't wait," she gasps, climbing over his lap to lie flat on her back, enticing him to join her. "I need you now."

He stands up to remove his tie and unbutton his shirt, slowing his movements when he notices the way she is watching him. Hungry. Starving…for him. He removes his shirt as she squirms on the sheets, eyes darker than he'd ever seen them. He climbs on the bed and holds himself above her, kissing her passionately, lips and tongues embracing in fervent rapture. She wraps her long legs around his waist, trying to bring his center down to hers, urging him home.

He breaks the kiss on a breathless whisper, "Not yet, Honey." He kisses her throat and trails his lips down her cleavage, dipping his tongue inside her navel and continuing on to taste the very heart of her. He hooks two fingers into the waistband of her panties and slowly pulls the lace down her legs and over her heels, baring her beautiful body to him completely except for the thin strips of skin beneath her four inch Fuck Me pumps. This night was supposed to be all for her, but he can't help feeling that he's the one being treated to a very special gift. Laying his chest on the end of the bed, he spreads her soft thighs with his calloused hands, massaging the pale skin as he dips his mouth to her opening. He licks and probes and sucks and nurtures until she explodes into a thousand brilliant sparks with her fingers tangled in his thick, wavy hair.

Standing up, he quickly removes the rest of his clothing along with Maggie's shoes while she tries to open a condom with trembling fingers. He positions himself between her spread thighs and she strokes him skillfully, drawing and twisting the way he likes before rolling the condom over his thick length. He fills her completely with one hard thrust and settles balls-deep inside of her. "I love you," he sighs into her ear.

Wrapping her arms firmly around his shoulders and locking her ankles behind his buttocks, she holds him tightly as he moves inside her.

"Hold on, Baby." Pushing himself up to lean back on his knees, he fastens an arm securely around her waist to keep them from slipping apart.

With her head tilted back in ecstasy, he latches onto her slender neck. His whiskers tickle her throat as she sets the rhythm, moving slowly on his lap as they grind together in erotic harmony. He buries his face in the crook of her neck and she cradles his head, her left hand lacing his curls, diamonds sparkling a message of hope in the candlelight as they lose themselves in each other.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N I want to thank you guys from the bottom of my heart for taking this wonderful journey with me. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the ride as much as I have. My deepest thanks to those of you who took the time to leave a review, and a very special thank you to my dear friend, Ariel (AKA bluecrush611), who I could never have done this without. Your friendship (and daily doses) mean the world to me! Thanks for convincing me to write a one shot... that turned into twenty chapters!**

**And now - the finale...**

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><p>Six weeks after their 'first date', Maggie wakes alone on a beautiful, unusually crisp, late summer day. Rick spent the eve before their wedding on the couch downstairs, so as not to break the tradition of seeing the bride before the ceremony. She can't believe she's only a few hours away from becoming Mrs. Grimes.<p>

She looks across the room at the beautiful gown hanging over the back of her bedroom door. She'd found the simple but elegant dress on a raid of a David's Bridal store in Jackson, after failing to get close to the bridal shop in Hampton due to the amount of undead invading the area. She had gone with Daryl and Michonne and they hadn't bothered trying anything on, she and Michonne just grabbed a bunch of dresses that Maggie had liked while Daryl loaded up on simple black tuxes for he and Rick. He also grabbed a couple of smaller suits for Carl, just in case the guilt-ridden teen changed his mind about the ceremony.

The dress Maggie had fallen in love with was an ankle length, white sleeveless gown with a crisscrossing, tightfitting pleated pattern on top with a small cluster of rhinestones off-center near the left hip, giving way to a sheer layer of thin chiffon over solid white satin with an inverted vee slit to the left knee. It was perfect for her intimate, summer wedding.

For the groom, she and Rick chose a masculine, two-button black tux with satiny lapels that only needed some slight altering which Carol was able to handle with very little difficulty.

The last few weeks had gone by in a blur, with everything falling into place very nicely. They were extremely happy when Tyreese informed them that he had actually been ordained as a minister a few years before The Turn to marry a gay couple that he had been very close friends with, and that he'd be honored to perform the ceremony uniting them as well.

Though it wouldn't have mattered to them either way, it is nice to believe that their marriage really will be official in the state of Georgia. Even though there is no longer a functioning Town Hall to file their records, Beth had drawn up an official looking certificate for them to sign, more as a memento of this special occasion. Maggie also plans to document today's date on the worn pages of the old family bible, knowing it's what her father would have done for the sake of posterity.

A knock on her door breaks into her thoughts, "Maggie? It's Carol. You need help getting ready, sweetie?"

She wishes her mom could have been here for this day, but she's so grateful for Carol's presence. Ignoring the lump in her throat, she opens the door to the woman who had become a mother figure to all of them.

* * *

><p>Daryl steps off the porch with purpose in every stride. Rick is currently using his bedroom to get dressed while Carol helps Maggie upstairs. As the best man, he should be assisting the groom with whatever little details the husband-to-be may need before the ceremony, but Daryl feels he would be most helpful in talking to a certain sullen teenager. He is truly honored to be Rick's best man when his brother marries Maggie, but he knows that Carl was Rick's first choice, rightfully so.<p>

He finds the young man near the shed, cheerfully throwing Bailey's favorite stick again and again while the black lab sprints to retrieve it over and over, neither one getting tired or bored of the redundancy. He'd come out to have a friendly chat with the teenager to see if he would reconsider being the best man for his father's wedding, but with every step he'd taken toward Carl, Daryl had gotten more and more irritated until he was standing a few feet from the teenager, infuriated.

Watching the kid throw a stick for the dog as if this day were no different than any other annoyed Daryl beyond reason. He knew he was overreacting but couldn't fight the resentment building inside as he watched Carl act like he was just killing some time before beginning his normal daily chores around the farm. But this was not just a normal day - it was special for all of them.

Carl looks over his shoulder when Bailey runs past him without stopping to drop the stick at his feet. He sees Daryl walking toward him – or rather stomping toward him – so he swallows the friendly greeting he was about to give his idol, taking a step backward instead at the angry look on the man's face.

"Don't worry, Carl, yer dad don't need yer help with anything. But thanks for offerin'." Venomous sarcasm drips from every word as he fumes at the selfish teenager. He begins to walk away but turns back suddenly, unable to hold back the storm raging inside him.

"Yer mom died and that sucks, I get that. But she ain't here and yer father is and today is really important to him. You should be standin' next to him instead of hidin' in the back row pretendin' that yer mom's proud of you. Find yer balls and stand up for yer old man!"

"I can't. I can't do that to my mom," Carl responds, miserably adamant.

"I guess you ain't noticed - but you got a shitload of mamas between Carol, Michonne, Sasha and yeah – Maggie. Don't tell me yer mom ain't grateful for all of 'em. And if Rick wants to marry Maggie – she wouldn't mind that neither and you know it." Daryl aims an accusatory finger at the boy's chest as he drives his point home. "You wanna sit this out – fine! But don't you fuckin' act like today don't mean nothin'." Daryl walks away feeling like shit for pretty much ruining any chance of Carl even coming to the ceremony now, much less standing up as the best man. That did not go nearly as well as he had planned. _Way to go, dickhead._

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><p>"Nervous?"<p>

Rick smiles at his best man as Daryl joins him in front of the arched trellis they'd placed near a small copse of trees between the barn and the house. Sasha and Kristy had spent hours the day before picking wild flowers to decorate the white arch and create an aisle on the grass leading up to it with a floral border of various degrees of purples, reds, yellows and blues.

"Nope," Rick replies with a smile that lights up his cerulean eyes. "Easiest thing I've ever done."

Tyreese asks Rick if he's memorized his vows as Daryl watches Carl stand up from the porch step in the distance, where he'd been sitting for the past half hour. He's happy to see the teenager wearing a suit, however ill-fitting it may be, proving that he does intend to watch the ceremony at least. Daryl tries to ignore the boy as he advances on the small group gathered by the trees, but can't help but make eye contact when Carl walks past the others to stand directly in front of him. The hunter knows why he is there, but refuses to make it easy for him. He levels the kid with a steely glare and asks, "You find 'em?"

"Yeah," Carl smirks at the reference to his balls. "I got this."

"'Bout time." Daryl claps him on the back and then turns to Rick, extending his right hand for a firm shake while his left hand grips the groom's shoulder. "He'll take you from here, brother."

Rick shakes Daryl's hand in a state of confusion after watching the odd exchange, not sure exactly what had just transpired. A moment later, it becomes abundantly clear as Daryl reaches into his pocket and takes out the gold wedding bands he was entrusted to hold as best man. He places them in Carl's outstretched palm and then moves to stand with the others on the far side of the aisle. Rick is suddenly speechless from the emotions clogging his throat when his son steps into the space that Daryl had just vacated - the place for his best man.

"I know this is where I belong, Dad. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here."

Overwhelmed with sentiment, pride and gratitude, the former sheriff fights the tears that he feels brewing behind his eyes as he lays an arm across his son's lanky shoulders, pulling him in for a heartfelt hug. His son's gesture rocks him to his very soul, but the ground beneath his feet had never felt more solid, and for that, he is eternally grateful.

Just as he gains control of his emotions, Tyreese's eyes widen and a huge grin splits his dark face as he looks over Rick's shoulder in the direction of the house.

Rick turns to see his daughter at the end of the aisle dressed in a pretty, white lace dress, looking like a miniature bride herself, holding a small basket of flower petals while Beth holds onto her other hand. He smiles at his little girl and then looks up to see his bride standing a few feet behind her.

His heart skips a beat as a breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of this enchanting woman and all of the emotions she invokes in him. Her hair is beautifully pulled back on one side with a barrette, concealed by a white Cherokee Rose placed strategically in her glossy, sun-streaked brown hair, and her dress is absolutely gorgeous, but the only thing he sees is the shy little smile that she gives him, an invitation that holds incredible promises.

Sasha presses the Play button on the CD player to begin Mendelssohn's traditional Wedding March, compliments of David's Bridal in Jackson.

While Carol encourages Judy to walk up the aisle, maid of honor Beth walks behind the toddler reaching over her dainty shoulder to pull out and drop a few petals along the way.

When the girls are about halfway up the flowery aisle, Maggie begins to walk gracefully toward the man of her dreams. He's not a perfect prince that rode in on a magnificent steed to sweep her away to a fairy tale life of happily ever after, but he has saved her life in every sense of the word and continues to give her a reason to live each and every day. He is noble and gallant and everything that is good in this godforsaken world, and he is hers.

Her eyes lock onto his, never breaking contact until she is at his side. Looking down at the bouquet of flowers that Sasha had created for her, she pulls out a white gardenia. Breaking a few inches off the stem, she tucks the flower into her groom's breast pocket as he watches her with complete adoration in his eyes.

Rick didn't think he could ever love her more, until she steps to the side to embrace his son. He watches her hug Carl tightly, whispering genuine words of thanks in his ear before kissing his cheek and then wiping the remnants of lip gloss away with a tearful smile.

When Maggie moves back into position at Rick's side, she takes his hand and gazes up into his stunning blue eyes, giving him a brilliant smile that says she's ready. "Hi, handsome."

"Glad you could make it," he says softly, heart in his throat and unable to take his eyes off of her. "God, you're beautiful." The world around them fades away as they get lost in each other's eyes, grasping the magnitude of becoming husband and wife. They see only each other until Ty's voice penetrates the fragile wall of the invisible border surrounding them.

"We are gathered here today to join together Richard Grimes and Margaret Greene in holy matrimony."

Carl watches his father take Maggie's hand in his own while Ty speaks of the joys and commitment of marriage. Seeing the way his dad and Maggie are looking at each other, makes him believe that they truly belong together, and maybe his mom really would understand. She might even forgive Carl for participating in the ceremony. He proudly hands the wedding bands to his father as Tyreese instructs the bride and groom to face each other for the exchanging of vows.

Rick places the gold band on Maggie's left ring finger and looks deeply into her eyes. Speaking straight from his heart, he declares his unwavering devotion to her. "Maggie, I promise to honor and respect you with every beat of my heart. I will cherish every moment we have together in good times and in bad. I will laugh with you and cry with you. I will protect you with my life, and love you 'til my last dying breath. As I have given you my hand to hold, so I give you my life to keep."

Maggie proclaims her promise of love and commitment to him, placing the larger gold band onto Rick's ring finger.

When Tyreese happily pronounces them husband and wife, Rick kisses his bride to the sound of cheers and tears as their family members celebrate this momentous occasion.

Once all of the congratulatory hugs have been given, the longest and most emotional being between father and son, Rick lifts Judy into his arms, settling his little girl on his hip as he takes his wife's hand to follow the group over to the newly constructed barn for a small reception.

After five weeks and many trips to the lumber yard, roofing supplier and Home Depot for all the wood, nails, cement mix and odd tools that Hershel hadn't owned, they'd completed the barn under Daryl's instruction. They'd equipped it with supplies from the Casey's barn, but before introducing the horses to their new home, they'd decided to use the new structure as a reception hall.

Kristy presses Play on the first CD that Maggie had selected. They all gather around the bride and groom as Carol takes Judy so Rick can enjoy the first dance with Maggie.

As the music fills the dance floor, the couple sways to the lovely notes and romantic tempo accompanying Meatloaf's crystalline voice. Gazing lovingly into his eyes Maggie sings the lyrics to her husband as they hold each other closely.

"And I will keep you safe and strong and sheltered from the storm,  
>No matter where it's barren, a dream is being born,<br>No matter who they follow, no matter where they lead,  
>No matter how they judge us, I'll be everyone you need."<p>

"No matter if the sun don't shine or if the skies are blue,  
>No matter what the ending, my life began with you,<br>I can't deny what I believe, I can't be what I'm not,  
>I know this love's forever, I know no matter what."<p>

The afternoon is spent dancing, eating, singing karaoke – thanks to Michonne and Ty's raid of a party store – and just enjoying the escape from the unforgiving grind that this world forces them to live on a daily basis. Though the trench has proven to be a very effective barrier against unwelcome walkers, they still keep an eye out after living in fear for so long. Daryl checks the perimeter every so often, between dancing with Carol, Kristy and his Little Ass-Kicker.

As the afternoon drifts into evening, and the CD is replaced for the sixth time, Maggie decides that she has shared her husband long enough. "Is it too early to say goodnight to everyone?" she asks Rick with her head against his shoulder, the starchy material of his white dress shirt itching her cheek as they dance to another slow song while her hand absently caresses his lower back.

"Probably, but who cares." He scoops her up into his arms, prepared to carry her all the way back to the house and over the threshold into their bedroom. He carries her to the front of the barn and turns to face their family. "We want to thank all of you for sharing this day with us, and for all your help getting us to this point. It really means a lot to us," he adds, looking directly as his son. "Now, if you don't mind, we're gonna say goodnight, so we'll see y'all in the mornin'."

Before he can turn to walk away, Carol stops him from leaving. "Wait, Rick. We thought you'd like some privacy on your wedding night, so us girls prepared a little getaway for your honeymoon. Unfortunately you won't be able to carry her over the threshold, but we think you'll like it."

"What did you guys do?" Maggie asks, a spark of excitement lighting her eyes as she smiles warmly in her husband's arms.

"Well, climb up that ladder and see for yourself," Beth tells them as she comes to stand next to Carol.

Rick looks down at Maggie and tilts his head in question, "Shall we, Mrs. Grimes?"

"Let's go." She grins up at him as he lowers his left arm, setting her on her feet at the base of the ladder leading up to the loft. He follows her up each wooden rung and steps onto the platform next to her. He follows the direction of her gaze to the far corner and sees a romantic display of satiny white walls surrounding a white sheeted air mattress tucked into the corner of the loft. The breeze blowing in through the nearby window stirs the satin covering the walls and what appear to be crates on either side of the mattress, giving the romantic setting an ethereal quality. There is a battery lantern on each 'night-stand', along with an unopened box of condoms waiting innocently in the center of the mattress.

Maggie realizes that the girls must have taken several of the extra gowns that they'd collected from David's and cut them strategically to cover the walls and floor. "It's perfect."

"Come on, let's go tell them."

The bride and groom climb back down to personally hug each family member, taking extra time with Carl and Judith, before saying a final goodnight.

Alone again, Rick follows Maggie back up the ladder, over to their private retreat, and down onto the mattress next to her. Propped up on his right elbow, his left hand covers hers where it lay just below her breasts as she lies flat on her back. He looks at their matching gold bands and is suddenly overcome with gratitude, extremely thankful for this incredible woman and the remarkable life they've built together in a wretched, post-apocalyptic world. "Thanks for marrying me."

"You're welcome. I love you."

"I love you more."

"Never," she replies before his lips touch hers softly.

He kisses her tenderly, savoring her sweetness and treasuring the feel of her beneath him as she welcomes his tongue inside her mouth. Leaving her breathless, he kisses his way over her jaw and down her throat.

"Honey, I don't want to use a condom tonight," she whispers against the crown of his head as he presses soft kisses to the creamy skin between her breasts.

He looks up at her suddenly, as apprehensive as a medieval knight preparing to run the deadly gauntlet. "What? Are you sure?"

"Yes," she responds, looking at him with absolute conviction. "I want to have a baby. I want to have your baby, Rick."

After a fleeting look of terror shadows his eyes at the memory of another pregnancy that did not end well, he looks deeply into hers and knows in his heart that she is meant to be a mother. He puts his faith in her confidence and the fear slowly recedes as he imagines her with a distended belly that holds his child. Their child.

He makes love to her reverently, worshiping her body and soul. Their tongues mesh together hungrily as their bodies become one, melding in a rhythm that takes them beyond the boundaries of comprehensive thought. Just one man, one woman, one heart beating in an ancient rhythm known as true love. And when he spills his seed inside her womb, it ignites a spark that promises a future of laughter and joy. Their future… which all began on a breath of hope.

~ The End ~

Epilogue

Maggie sticks the colorful candles into her son's first birthday cake as little Andy sits comfortably in his father's lap.

Andrew Hershel Grimes had entered the world a year ago today, kicking and screaming to his parents' delight. Though it had been an uneventful pregnancy, other than the usual bout of morning sickness, and an uncomplicated delivery on a warm spring evening, Rick hadn't breathed easily for nine months until he held his exhausted wife and healthy newborn son in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks as he inhaled deeply, finally.

A year later, with bright blue eyes, stubborn cleft in his chin and brown hair that is beginning to curl at the ends, Andy is the spitting image of his daddy.

Looking around at everyone gathered for the celebration, Rick is amazed at how far they've come, especially Daryl and Carol who are the only ones left from the original Atlanta group, other than Carl and himself. Whoever would have believed that they'd end up married to each other? But he really wasn't surprised when the two had disappeared for an entire afternoon shortly before Andy was born and come back wearing matching gold wedding bands, subtly referring to each other as husband and wife.

Rick looks over to see his sixteen year old son setting up the volleyball net in an attempt to impress his girlfriend Jenny, the seventeen year old that moved into the Casey farm five months ago when Daryl found her and eight others surviving in the woods after losing a large number of their original group. They were extremely happy to welcome them as neighbors when they found out Jenny's uncle was a doctor, which came in handy when Kristy sprained her wrist last month. They'd helped their new friends build a trench to fortify their home and worked together on supply runs, forming a tight little community.

A strong breeze takes a paper plate and a few napkins from the picnic table, swirling the items in its feathery grasp before discarding them about the recently mowed lawn. Rick looks up at the billowing clouds floating across the dark blue sky, thinking they are probably going to get a good downpour tonight. Storms usually rile the walkers a bit so they may find a few more in the trench come morning. They've been averaging about three or four a month, the largest group having been nine roamers that staggered through the property one cold afternoon in February. He glances over to the orange construction fencing running the length of the trench for the kid's safety, wondering how many they will get tonight.

Rick sees Tyreese walk over to help Carl with the volleyball net. The big man hasn't been the same since they lost his sister on a run the year before. Michonne helps him get through day to day, but she can't erase the guilt that he feels for not saving Sasha in time. Rick, champion of guilty consciences, had tried counseling him through his grief, but her death was hard on all of them.

Living in an animalistic world where only the fittest survive, they've grown accustomed to scrounging for necessities and fighting monsters both living and once-dead, but losing one of their own never got any easier. It was especially difficult for Tyreese to lose his little sister, but he's learning to move on, carrying her spirit with him as she rests beneath the big oak tree with Sophia, Dale and the special marker for Hershel where they buried his favorite cigars.

Now Ty laughs with Carl as two and half year old Judy tries to climb the thin ropes staked into the ground, causing the net to lean in an unprofessional angle. Beth pries the little girl from the rope and spins her around in a circle, tiny ballet slippers swinging outward before they both fall to the ground in a fit of giggles, soon to be joined by Kristy, Jenny and never to be left out of a melee at her ground level – Bailey.

Rick laughs at his daughter's antics, thankful for the joy she brings to all of their lives. Children truly are a blessing, more so now than ever before. He looks down at his youngest son, a miniature version of himself, feeling unbelievably grateful that Maggie convinced him to take a chance on their wedding night.

Andy looks up at the sound of his father's laughter, cerulean blue eyes gazing back at each other. Rick smiles at his son, unaware of his wife reaching for the Polaroid camera that Michonne had found on a run with Simon and Colin from Jenny's group. He doesn't notice her aim the lens in his direction. He has no idea that he is the focus of her attention until he hears the distinctive click and whirr of the camera as she snaps the photo. "Hey." He smiles up at her in surprise.

"Hey, yourself." She snatches the square photograph as it slides out of the camera and hands it to Rick to watch the image take shape. She kisses the top of her little boy's head and moves to stand behind them, resting her arms on her husband's shoulders as the picture develops before their eyes.

When the image sharpens to definitive lines and bold colors, the ex-sheriff sees a child looking into his father's eyes with absolute trust, a genuine belief that he will be taken care of and loved unconditionally. Rick hopes never to break that trust.

Hershel once said that God was testing them. Rick hopes he will have given his children enough resolve and compassion to see it through, and instill the same values into their own children. And if enough survivors out there carry the same code of grace and fortitude – in time, he believes they just may be able to pass God's test.


End file.
