A cute little Christmas fic I wrote in about twenty minutes. Hints of Caryl. Daryl finds the perfect Christmas present for Carol. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it.

Daryl Dixon was completing a perimeter check of the prison yard as the sun disappeared behind the clouds and thunder rumbled overhead. It was Christmas Eve, and yet it was over eighty degrees outside, even in the shade. The past few weeks had been rough, and he had barely allowed himself to grieve for his brother, whom he had lost for a second time. It was hard for him, but at the same time, Carol had been returned to him after he was certain she was dead. For that, he was more grateful than he had ever been in his entire life, with the exception of the period after his father's death. In this group, he had found where he belonged: with Carol and baby Judith. He was happy for once, as happy as he could be after the world ended.

So when he heard a soft, unfamiliar cry, he was shocked to say the least. With some degree of hesitation, he started in the direction of the noise.

The cry came again as he tracked it. Walkers were moaning in the distance, but they were growing fewer in number, thankfully.

Finally he was right on top of the noise, and as he bent over and pushed the grass aside, his eyes widened.

"Well, I'll be…"

A tiny, pitiful looking kitten looked up at him and mewled again.

How the hell had this little thing managed to survive out here? Gently he scooped it up in his hands and settled it in his palm. The thing was wet and muddy and weighed nothing in his palm. Bringing it against his chest, he rubbed its little head with his pinky finger and smiled when it purred. He glanced around and saw Rick coming to take over the watch. Peeling back his poncho, he tucked the kitten into the soft pocket inside his poncho. Then he headed toward the prison.

He knew exactly what to do with the little fleabag.

"Carol."

His voice was rough as he called her name and waited for her to acknowledge him before he stepped into her cell. She was sitting on the bottom bunk, sewing a hole in one of Carl's shirts. When she heard him, she lowered her hands to her lap and looked up expectantly.

"Tomorrow's Christmas," he said in a very matter-of-fact way.

"Yes, it is." They had all been keeping track of the days in anticipation of a somewhat normal holiday. Well, as normal as a holiday could be after the world ended.

"I got ya somethin'."

Her eyes lit up. "Daryl, you don't have to…"

"But I want to." He reached into his poncho and retrieved the kitten. Then he laid it in Carol's lap.

The look on her face was one he had never seen before. "How…?"

"You said you always wanted one," he explained quietly, shifting from foot to foot. "Now you have one." And even if she hadn't wanted it, he would have taken it because as much of a bastard as he was, he couldn't find it in him to kill something so small and defenseless.

"Thank you, Daryl." Her voice was choked as she held the kitten up and examined it. "She's perfect."

Finally he relaxed. He had done the right thing. "Whatcha gonna name her?"

Carol stood up, cuddling the kitten to her chest. "Not sure yet."

Before he could sidestep her, she closed the distance between them and hugged him tight.

He was shocked, but he didn't shove her away. Instead, much to his surprise, he pulled her closer and returned the hug. There weren't many moments like this anymore, especially for him. It was…nice.

As she pulled away, she leaned up and kissed his rough cheek. "You're a wonderful man, Daryl."

He scoffed and backed away from her, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. "Glad you like the mongrel."

She chuckled. "I do."

Satisfied, he started to leave the cell.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Dixie."

"Huh?" He turned and looked at Carol, who smiled slyly.

"Her name is Dixie."

He huffed and shook his head.

"Damn woman."

The End!

A/N: Aww, he's a sucker! LOL. Thanks for reading and please review!