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The Walking Dead ( Private between myself and Traveler)

There was something about the way she looked at him that both concerned and stimulated Daryl. He watched her pull her shirt up to show her bruised, pink sides. He could see the movement of her muscles and her ribs under her skin. He drew in a breath and then nodded. "Yeah, it probably feels as bad as it looks." He motioned for her to sit up on the dining table and then he got the last of their bandages. They'd have to make a medical run to one of the stores if they wanted to keep up her wrappings. There was no way in hell he'd go back to that lunatic hospital, but maybe if they kept on moving they'd find something.

"Alright." He used his teeth to tear a hole in the wrapper and then spit the piece on the floor. Then he stood close to her, almost inside her legs, and began to wrap the bandage around her torso. He could feel the heat from her body as he nearly touched her with his thighs, and that proximity made him feel a tingling in his loins that he hadn't indulged in a long time.

"Is that too tight?" He held the end near her ribs as he prepared to tape her wrap. "I don't want to hurt you." Not unless you're into that... he thought to himself. His dark eyes met her pale ones.

They were so close to each other. Just... right there... Daryl found himself leaning into her, and if she didn't shove him away their lips would meet. He wondered what her kiss tasted like as he leaned closer without thinking it through, and kissed her.
 
She chuckles and nods, "Yeah probably does," She looked down at the blotchy bruises that covered her tanned skin. He stepped close to her and again she was intensely aware of him, shivering gently as he brushed against her, wrapping the bandages around her. Kat shook her head, "No, it doesn't hurt....too much." She couldn't say it didn't hurt at all, but it was just the dull ache, so the wrapping was't too tight. She saw him leaning closer and at first she didn't understand what he was doing. But the closer he got the more she realized, and when he kissed her she paused, still a bit surprised.

But it only took her a moment to lift her arms carefully wrapping them around his neck gently, eagerly returning the kiss. Her pale eyes drifted shut as she enjoyed the kiss, it was everything she expected it to be, intense, careful but just a bit rough. Neither of them were the gentle type, she didn't mind. Leaning into him she smiled against his lips.
 
He half expected a bullet in the gut, but she hesitated and then wrapped her arms around his neck, and he felt the checkered flag waving at him from the starting line. It was a 'go'. The kiss continued and he grew bolder. His rough hand rested on her thigh and his other hand reached out and cupped her back, drawing her carefully towards him. Daryl had no illusions that they were going to go any further than kissing, what with her injury and all, but this part was plenty nice.

When the kiss found it's natural end he slowly pulled away from her. His dark eyes searched hers for some kind of acknowledgement that what they did was okay with her.

He licked his top lip as he contemplated what he wanted to do next. What he wanted was one thing, but knowing how badly she was injured he knew that he needed to give her time. In his typical, awkward fashion, he mumbled "Thanks," and moved away. Now came the 'what next' portion. "For not shooting me in the gut," he explained. "Or sicing Jasper on me."
 
Kat's hands gripped eagerly at his shoulders, pressing her body closer when he pulled. Shivering pleasantly at his rough hands sliding over her her body arched as much as she could. Her pale eyes opened when the kiss ended, she made a soft noise not wanting him to pull away but she let him. Rationally she knew she was too injured to enjoy going any farther, but she wanted to, badly. Instead she just leaned back slightly and smiled softly when their gazes met.

She grinned and chuckled at his mumbled words. Glancing at the dog she saw he was on his feet tense and ready, but not interfereing. "He knows i am safe with you, just like i know it." Kat murmured as she adjusted her shirt and carefully slid off the table. "By the way, i fully expect to finish this when i can breathe without wincing." She said, meeting his gaze, letting gim know she was fully okay with what happened just now and wanted it to continue.
 
"You think I'm safe?" That thought amused Daryl. He touched his lip with the back of his hand, as if brushing off something. It was actually to keep himself from grinning too broadly, but he tried to hide it. "That's a first." He watched her slide off the table and tell him that she expected to finish this once she was feeling better, which were welcome words to the tracker.

"That could be arranged." He gathered up the rest of their supplies, eager for something else to do.

"I'm gonna check the perimeter again and then we should give this house a thorough comb-through. In case there's more ammo or some shit we could use. I'm thinking that somewhere in this neighborhood's gotta be a working car we can prep for when it's time to go. Until then... might as well be comfortable."

He was starting to feel a little boxed-in, actually. Her company and the hot food and booze was nice, but he missed the open sky and the feel of the breeze. He needed to scout around and figure out what was happening outside these modern walls. Still, Daryl knew that it was important to let people heal, too, so he was willing to stay put a little longer. Besides... she kissed nice. He liked the way she had felt just now, and the promise in her eyes. He never thought he'd kiss no cop, but Kat wasn't 'just' a previous cop. She was interesting. She was strong and edgy, and he had the feeling that she wasn't no squeamish priss either.

He liked that.
 
She nods, "I know i'm safe with you," She said confidently as she stood in front of him. Then she nodded, "Okay, I can start the house search while you're checking the perimeter." She says with a smile, "Right after I do the dishes." Normally the dishes were something Kat had detested in the old world, but now, it was nice to be in a house, with running water to do the dishes. She made her way to the sink, washing the dishes quickly and setting them in the rack to dry, "I'll start in the basement and work my way up," She said, glancing at Daryl with a final smile before her and Jasper made their way towards the stairs that led to the basement. Mostly it seemed like storage, but you never knew what people put it storage that could come in handy during the Apocalypse.

With the railing and the dog as balance she carefully made her way down, eyeing the neat rows of boxes and storage tubs. "Show offs," She mutters in amusement. Her basement way back when had looked like a tornado was constantly going through, her inability to keep that sort of thing neat had driven Hunter crazy. She began going through boxes, pulling out winter gear, some camping gear, and other good supplies as she found them.
 
"Dishes," he scoffed lightly, but he didn't tell her not to do it. Instead he left her to do what brought her joy and then went to make sure that the outside of the house was still secure. While he was looking out the windows he saw the trail end of a small mob of walkers make their way across a perpendicular street. Daryl watched quietly until they disappeared before he moved on to inspect another window. Most of the windows were shaded; that kept any movement or light from attracting attention.

He was about to leave one of the side windows when he caught a glimpse of reflected light. His eyes narrowed and he stood stock-still. There it was again; it looked like the reflection off an opening and then closing door. Yes... as he looked, he saw that about four blocks away someone had parked a van and had gotten out. There were more than one persons, and unbeknownst to them, they were walking in the general area where the walker mob was headed.

Daryl slowly shut the curtain and darkened the room. It didn't look like his people. As far as he was concerned, they weren't his problem until they became his problem. He found Kat in the basement, papers and neat stacks of supplies all around her.

"Doing some shopping?" He gave her a smirk of a smile as he descended the last few steps. "I saw a group of people a few blocks away. Not sure if they're going to be a problem, but we should keep our lights low until they've cleared out." He fingered a thin silver flask, then picked it up and unscrewed the cap. It was empty, but it didn't have to stay that way.
 
Jasper rumbled when Daryl came down the stairs. Whether it was in welcome or in warning was unclear. But he just thumped his tail when he saw the man. Kat glanced over, smiling and nodding, "Yeah, I figure if and when we need to hit the road, some of this stuff will come in handy." She said, freezing when he said he saw a group of people. "Were they all men?" She asked trying and failing to keep all the fear out of her voice. She didn't want to be anywhere near the men who had attacked her and she was sure they would've killed her, given the chance.

But she nodded, "Yeah we should keep quiet." She said, going through the box in front of her. There were Winter boots and the teenage girl that had lived here was just about Kat's size, at least close enough she could wear that girl's clothes. "Especially if we get a car, then we can really stock up on some of these supplies, prepare a little better." Kat mused as she looked up at daryl.
 
He simply 'Hmmm'd' and continued to rummage around, eying all the things suspiciously. "I couldn't see if they were men or not, or how many. Two at least... they looked like men." He picked up a mug that said 'World's greatest' on it. "Why the fuck's anyone need all this shit, anyway?" He asked as he turned a painted tea pot over in his hand. "They spent all their lives getting shit to put in boxes and now they're rotting in their garage. It's fucking stupid."

As he mulled around he found a box full of old photographs. Slowly his fingers trailed through the stack until he got to one of the teenager who he had finished off in the garage. She had been about Kat's size but her blond hair and wide, trusting eyes reminded him of Beth. The pang of all the people he had seen die, even his asshole brother Meryl, flooded back into his chest.

He stood there and stared at the photo for a minute before he heard the sound of a car engine driving by the house. The immediate danger that the others he saw presented stole Daryl's attention from the pictures. His eyes narrowed and he looked over to where the girl and her dog were. "I'll go check upstairs. Stay quiet..."

It wasn't necessary but he felt like he had to say it. A moment later he was crouched over upstairs, sneaking from one room to the other until he could get to the second floor and use the height of the windows there to scout out their new neighbors.
 
Kat just raised a brow, watching him as he spoke. Then shrugged, "To some people, this is life. Marriage, family, accumulating crap in boxes." She mused as she rummaged through boxes, looking up when he was just staring at a photo. She kept her thoughts to herself, deciding that she didn't really know him well enough to ask him what he was thinking or why that photo seemed to have his attention.

The sound of a car engine had her stiffening. Jasper growled and stood, moving to his mistress's side. Kat nodded, "Okay," She watched him go, upset that she was too injured to go with him. "Stand." She murmured to the dog, using him and a box to brace herself as she stood up, drawing her gun as she waited.

Breathing deeply she prayed whoever was outside wasn't planning on coming inside. Hopefully they were just passing by and she prayed it wasn't the group of men who had been after her.
 
The car stopped two houses down. The men seemed to be going down from one house to the other, checking for unlocked doors and signs of life. The sight of them scanning the ground for prints sent chills down Daryl's neck. These weren't your average group of marauders; these guys were on a mission, and he had a feeling that their mission was downstairs with her big dog.

He let out a thin breath and got away from the window. So far he saw signs of four intruders. They looked big and soulless; men out for themselves who happened to be traveling together. If any of them were half as good a tracker as he was they'd spot the fresh dog excrement in the back yard eventually and hone in on this house.

Daryl put his crossbow over his shoulder and hurried downstairs to find Kat. "It's me," he said quietly before descending the stairs, in case she was trigger happy and too scared to check before shooting. He got down to the bottom, glad that there was still light coming in from the small basement windows. "They're looking for something..." His eyes met hers and he knew that she suspected as much.

"Let me help you up the stairs, Kat. We may need to get our things ready and make a run for it if they decide to stick around."
 
She stood, her dog at her heel her left hand gripping her gun. Hearing the movement upstairs, she raised the gun, and Jasper growled. She heard Daryl's voice she lowered the gun, "Jazz, Hold." She stiffened when he said they were coming for something. She nodded, "Meaning me." She didn't expect them to give up searching for her. Sliding her gun into her holster she nodded, "Yeah," She accepted his help getting up the stairs, it was quicker with his help. Kat figured that they would be leaving. She'd rather avoid them than to try and face off with them.

"Jazz, with me," The dog moved with her, on her other side, as they headed up the stairs. "What can I help with?" She asked Daryl. Given her injuries she couldn't exactly bound upstairs to get their stuff, but she'd be more than willing to help in anyway that she could. Silently she wondered how she'd be able to keep away from these men. Injured she wasn't exactly as fast as she usually was, and they didn't have a car yet. So aside from hiding she didn't see how they'd avoid a confrontation.
 
Daryl's eyes locked on the girl. He noted her stoic expression and her willingness, and thanked the powers that be that she wasn't some whimpering slip of a girl who would fall apart at any threat. He didn't like to hide but she was hurt, and if they tried to run...

"We have three choices Kat. We can hide here and hope they leave, or we can empty out the family car in the garage and make a run for it... or we can hide until tonight and then try to sneak out." He pressed his lips together. He could tell by the way she tensed up when he helped her up the stairs that she still hurt bad.

"You're the one with the most to lose so I'm going to let you chose." He wanted a cigarette bad. What he wouldn't do for Rick and the rest of his group right now...
 
Kat leaned slightly against him as they moved up the stairs. She frowned at the options. "None are really appealing, are they?" She asked, looking up at him, then shrugged, "I guess, let's try to ride it out until night, then try to get away with the car." No matter what, given her state, the car should be apart of the getaway plan. She didn't want to have to run with these ribs. Sure if push came to shove she could, but given the choice, she'd much rather ride in the car.

Jasper paced the house, ears up, listening to what was going on outside. He grumbles. "Quiet!" Kat hissed and silenced the dog, though he continued to pace the house, listening to the men outside as they roamed the neighborhood. "This is going to be bad, huh?" She asked softly, as her hand rested on the butt of her weapon, eyes flickering from the door to the front windows.
 
"Yeah, I think so." Daryl was pissed at the newcomers for screwing up the small bit of peace he had found. He didn't want to stay in suburbia forever, but he wanted to leave on his own terms. This wasn't the way he wanted to close this particular chapter of the book.

Once they reached the ground level floor he tried to help her get to the most defensible section of the house, but then he heard footsteps on the front porch and paused. The footsteps were confident; not the shuffling steps of walkers looking for prey. Daryl glanced at Kat and then at the door, only a few long leaps away. They were close...

Someone tried the door handle and Daryl began to push Kat towards the hallway. At least there they could only go after her one at a time. He unshouldered his crossbow and took a defensive position, the bolt already loaded as he backed slowly in hopes that they would not hear them and decide to leave. The door bulged, then someone shot the lock and it flew open, revealing the last four men she would ever want to see again. The reason for their persistence was now clear - the one in front had thermal goggles on. He had probably seen their heat outlines from outside the house.
 
Kat shifted back into the hallway, drawing her gun. She heard the footsteps, they sounded like men on a mission. She murmured to her dog and it had him stepping forward, between her and Daryl, another line of defense. Neither her nor the dog flinched at the gunshot. Her pale eyes focused on the men as they came in. She recognized all four and the leader still had bandages around his right arm, where Jasper had bitten him.

She tried to shut her emotions down. She couldn't get emotional and freak out, remembering the attack. Instead she focused on them coming in. "Hold," She muttered to her dog, not wanting him to over react. Dogs were smart, she knew he'd recognize the men too, and he'd sense her fear. She wouldn't hesitate to deploy her dog, if she knew he had a decent chance at survival, which was not sending him towards four men with guns. And now, they knew she had a dog, they were prepared for him.
 
"Out the back," Daryl whispered harshly.

The men didn't even hesitate when the broke in. One leveled his rifle in their direction and grinned cruelly. "We only want the woman," he snarled. "Give her up and you'll live."

"She's not mine to give." Daryl's crossbow was aimed at their leader, the one behind the thermal goggles steampunk-wanna-be hood.

The man with the bandages didn't respond verbally. Instead, he made a motion with his fingers and the others directed their aim at Daryl and Jasper, making it clear that they wanted Kat alive. The other two heartbeats in this house could be silenced forever for all they cared.

"Are you willing to die for her?"

The answer was moot. Daryl moved back rapidly, even as he let loose a bolt from his crossbow. The others rained bullets at the spot of the hallway where he was standing just moments ago. "Get them!!"

"Go go go!" Daryl urged her. He pulled the cable back and loaded as he went, knowing that there was only so long before they had another shower of lead sent in their direction.
 
Kat was moving backwards, "Back!" She ordered the dog and just like his mistress the dog moved backwards, not taking his eyes off the men. No longer thinking about her aching ribs, Kat moved as fast as she could throwing the backdoor open and going out, "Jazz! With me." The dog leaped out the door, at her side. Kat only looked back a couple of times, trusting that Daryl could keep up. Instinct had her heading for the forest, easier to get lost in and to loose the men.

Thankfully her adrenaline was pumping enough that she was able to tone out the soreness from her ribs. With her gun in her left hand and her dog moving at her right, they headed for the forest, acutely aware of the gunfire behind them. Still it was a long run to the woods, out of the subdivision. She looked over her shoulder, to find where Daryl was and to see just how fast the men were catching up.
 
He had no way of knowing if the last bolt hit; he had to shoot and run as quickly as he could. Their saving grace was that a small group of walkers heard the noise from the shotgun blast and wandered onto the porch, drawing off some of the men's attention.

Daryl ran after Kat and mentally cursed the loss of their supplies. They had only what was on them, and unless they found a safe way to make it back to the house, they would be without essential supplies. There was no way that they could run all the way to the woods, not with Kat in the condition they were in.

When he caught up to her he nodded to the side and led them down a side yard. "We gotta find us a car, Kat. That means busting into a bunch of houses until we can find one with a key." He stopped for a moment and listened, hearing the last gunshot ring out as the group of men finished off the walkers. "We don't have a lot of time." He saw a house that looked intact, the sliding glass window in the back yard closed tight. After a few tries he was able to bust open the gate on the back yard and let them into their temporary shelter.
 
Kat nods, "Sounds good." She moved with him, her adrenaline flooding her system, keeping her from wanting to slow down and from feeling the pain that was in her ribs. She moved quickly behind Daryl, through the yard and into the house. "Think we'll be able to lure them away and come back for our supplies?" She asked as they moved through the house towards the garage. They didn't have time to search the house now, but maybe they could go back to the original house, if they managed to lure the men away. Kat sighed in relief when she saw the mini van sitting in the garage. "Not my first choice in cars, but it'll do." She tried to add some humor to the situation. Neither of them were the mini van type. Not that, that mattered anymore, a car was a car, so long as it had gas and ran.
 
"I don't know about luring them away." He was considering all that they had left. Perhaps she was right; they had a treasure there; enough to help them survive a long time. Daryl rubbed his thumb and forefinger across his forehead, trying to figure out what to do next. If it was just himself to think about, he'd have left. Fuck their things. But the girl and her dog...

He looked at her. "We can survive with what we got. But they're going to keep coming after you. We either have to outrun them or stop them."

As if on cue they heard the door slam open. Somehow the men had managed to get close to them without alerting the dog. Three men ran in, their weapons trained and their expressions determined. The leader was among them, and before they could do much to react, a bullet was speeding towards Jasper's rump and one of the thugs had slammed Daryl across the face with the wooden stock of his rifle, sending the archer to the ground in a heap.

"Now," the leader pointed his pistol at Kat. "We can talk nice, and your friend here can live, or we can talk mean, and we eat the dog and slit your boyfriend's throat. It's up to you, sweet ass."
 
Kat jerked when the door slammed open, she was shocked at how quickly everything happened. She heard Jasper shriek at getting shot, but true to the working shepherd, he didn't go down, limping the dog returned to Kat's side, hackles up, teeth bared. Her pale eyes glared at the leader. Her hand resting on the butt of her weapon. "We can talk all you like. But I'm not leaving with you and you aren't going to touch me." She said, her voice oddly emotionless. She would fight to her death to avoid leaving with these men and to avoid letting them touch her. "Hold," She muttered to her dog, the command would keep Jasper from attacking, for now. But if any of them made a physical move to attack Kat, his training would dictate that he would disobey the command to wait, and would attack.

Kat looked over at Daryl, hoping he hadn't been hit too bad. But something told her, the archer had faced worse than a gun to the face. Returning her gaze to the leader, she tilted her head, she asked with a smirk, "How's the arm?" Jazz had done a number on it, certainly in the 'regular' world it would've required quite a few stitches.
 
It went down fast; almost too fast to realize what had happened. Almost as soon as Daryl hit the floor his crossbow skittered across the floor. He reached for it but then felt the cold, hard, cylinder of a barrel nudge his temple. "Move and your brains are gonna be all over the tile, comrade. Just raise your hands and keep your mouth shut." The drawl was Louisiana. Shit. There were some crazy-assed-motherfuckers from that swampland, and it looked like the cream of the crop was the one holding a rifle to his brain bucket.

Daryl eyed the man but then nodded. If they had wanted them dead, they'd be dead. No... there was more that they wanted, and as long as the archer had breath there was a chance to get out of this. He slowly raised his eyes, glaring through the dark, inky bangs that hung low on his brow. Now was the time for thinking, not fast decisions.

The leader gave Kat an arrogant smirk. "Arm's fine, sweet thang. And you are going with us or..." his companion pointed a gun at the dog. "We're eatin' like Koreans tonight." He didn't give a fuck about politically correct at this point. Who cared what people thought, anyway? All he wanted was some sweet, hot woman to spill his cum into and someone to push around during the day. "But you are coming with us. We're taking our due, and if you're good, your friend lives. If not..." he shrugged. "We send one more soulless killing machine out into the night."

His second in command pulled back the hammer to make his double action fire single. It would take much less pressure to end the dog's life.

"Your choice baby. Put your gun down or we kill your fucking dog."
 
Kat's fingers danced over the butt of her gun, her pale eyes void of any emotion. Given half the chance, she would fire, but there just wasn't the opportunity. Eyes never leaving the man she spoke "Platz." In German she spoke to Jasper. Despite his injured hip, the dog obediently laid down, though he remained tense, teeth bared, chest vibrating with a snarl. She unholstered her weapon carefully, setting it on the table beside her. "Jazz, with him," She points to Daryl, as she eyed Daryl, making sure he was aware that she was giving control of her dog to him. Not that Daryl knew all of Jasper's commands, but the dog had a rough understanding of most English cues. She held Daryl's gaze for a moment. She wanted to try and make it clear she wasn't giving up, she wouldn't let these men touch her. But at the moment she couldn't see a way out of this that would end up with him and her dog dead. So she was willing to bid her time, if that's what it took.
 
Daryl knew when he had been bested; the mother fuckers had them, and right now their only way to survive was to surrender. He noticed Kat's order to Jazz but didn't know what he could do with the dog. What if he got him killed? She'd be devastated. Hell, he was upset at losing fucking Anthony, and that was just a turtle.

He felt a man yank up on his arm and begin to handcuff him. Fuck.

The leader motioned one of his men forward to do the same to Kat as another took her weapon. "Kill the fucking dog," he commanded the forth.

"Run Jazz!" Daryl yelled. "Get out! Go!" He kicked at the man ordered to kill the dog, hoping that it would give the four-legged pain-in-the-ass a chance to escape. If their luck was with them they'd meet up again, but the dog's death now wouldn't serve any of them any good. He just had to hope that the mutt would understand that he had to go so he could help save his mistress later. Otherwise the dog would be walker bait.
 
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