AN: One-shot continuing the scene at the end of 'Remember'. Sexual situations ahead.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.

Wolves of Alexandria

With a grim smile, Rick nodded his head and moved back inside the house. Carol and Daryl were left on the darkened porch, surveying the town. Though they knew that walkers couldn't penetrate the walls, they were still uneasy. Unsure. Two days of living in a 'safe zone' was not enough to erase two years of living in hell.

"Have you showered yet?" Carol wondered, breaking the silence. Daryl raised his eyebrows so that they disappeared under his fringe of dark hair. Carol took that as a 'no' and sighed, "You know, I wasn't joking about hosing you down in your sleep."

"Like to see ya try," Daryl muttered, turning his back to her so that he could lean on the clean, white rail of the porch. He could hear her soft steps approaching him and then she was leaning beside him. He noted that there wasn't a layer of grime being transferred to the rail from her arms like there was his.

"That a challenge?" she goaded him, a teasing smirk playing over her face.

"Challenge I don't reckon ya'd be up for," Daryl said, turning his head slightly to eye up that ridiculous blue cardigan that she had taken to wearing. Then there was the pastel shirt she donned underneath. It wasn't her. It wasn't the bloody tank-top, cargo pants, or combat boots that he was used to seeing on her. It reminded him of who she was before the turn: the housewife that got a black eye for burning the toast. He didn't like it.

"It's not the package of the wrapping that counts," she told him, "It's what's inside and believe me, Daryl Dixon, I've got enough inside me to grab a garden hose and make good on that shower."

"Pfft."

There was silence once more for a moment or two, but like always, she broke it, "I'm still me, Daryl."

"Don't look it. Don't act it."

Carol reached over and placed her clean hand on his dirty, sweat-covered arm.

"To them, I'm the meek, mousy little widow that's afraid to even hold a gun, let alone fire it."

Daryl frowned and glanced over at her, wondering, "A ruse?"

"Better than the last ruse I played," Carol confirmed, "I'll take a cardigan and a shower over walker-guts any day."

For the first time since entering Alexandria, Daryl managed a small smirk. He understood now. She was a human dressed as a walker again, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Carol squeezed his arm.

"Took you this long to catch on?" she teased, "Thought you knew me, Daryl."

"I know who ya are now," Daryl admitted, "Don't know who ya were before."

Something clicked in that moment for Carol. She suddenly understood why Daryl was closing himself off and refusing to be part of the community, even if he was just acting. He didn't know how to play the part at all. He was afraid that they would all go back to what they were: Rick the cop, Carol the housewife, and Daryl the drifter.

"She said the same thing to you, didn't she? That we still are who we were before?" she asked. Daryl said nothing, and like before, she took his silence for confirmation and continued, "She's wrong. We aren't who we were before and we never will be again. The people we were…they have been burned away, but we're not ashes. We're still here."

Daryl turned his body towards her and looked at her properly then, hearing his own words regurgitated to him. He had said that they weren't ashes in hope of convincing her that they were still alive and that there was still something worth living for. He stared at her for a moment, their eyes locking, blue and blue, in understanding.

He knew what she didn't say.

He knew that she was not going to be the housewife with the black eye for burning the toast. He knew that he was not going to be the nobody he was before the turn…at least not in her eyes. Who he was didn't count. Not anymore.

He wasn't the lone wolf. He had a pack now. He had a…

He flushed a little and looked down, away from her gaze.

Her hands were there, on his cheeks tilting his head up, encouraging him to meet her eyes once more. He didn't need to avoid eye-contact. Not with her. Her eyes were all he could focus on. Her eyes told him that she was still his Carol, the one who walked confidently in a bloody tank-top and combat boots, the one who dressed in walker guts to save his sorry ass. His hand slipped from the white rail to her waist. He could feel the coarse, foreign material of that blue cardigan.

"Ya gonna get dirty," he told her in a throaty whisper, the only sound he could manage in that moment.

"I was planning on showering later anyways," she said just as softly, her eyes flickering briefly to his lips and then back up to his eyes. Daryl moved his head towards her by a fraction of an inch. His hand on her waist curved around to her back.

"So was I," he said, his voice low and deep.

Then his head was being pulled down and she was standing up on her toes.

Her mouth met his, soft and chaste.

Then she pulled back a bit and raised her eyes to his, silently asking if that was okay. He had his answer ready, pulling her body closer to him with the hand on her back and then tilting her head back towards him with his other hand. He wanted more.

Their lips met again, but this time it was anything but soft and chaste. It was two years of pent up emotions, stolen glances, and soft touches. It was explosive and it wasn't enough.

Carol's arms wrapped around his neck. She was pressed tightly to his body and Daryl couldn't help the small growl that escaped him. He took two steps and then she was pressed between him and the white pillar on the corner of the porch. They were as close as any two people could be and it still wasn't enough.

It wasn't just her mouth that he wanted. He was kissing her jaw and down her neck, tasting the flesh there. She unwrapped her arms from his neck and then he felt her hands on his chest. They were on the leather vest at first, but then they were moving up. He shivered the moment her fingers found the skin at his throat, but she didn't stop. Her hands moved up to his stubble-covered jaw and directed his mouth back to hers. She kissed him harder and deeper, her tongue tangling with his.

He groaned and caught her lower lips in his teeth.

They were both acutely aware of the situation. They were both aware of their rapid heartbeats and laborer breathing. They were both aware of how they were pressed up against each other and how they could feel every curve and muscle. They were both very aware of how they needed it to go further.

"Come with me," Carol whispered. He released her and allowed her just enough room to squeeze by him. She pulled on his wrist and he willingly followed to wherever she wanted him to go. She dragged him over to the other house and pulled him inside. From there, it was just them.

Daryl's lips were on hers the second she closed the door, chasing that fire she had started within him. Her hands were unzipping his vest and then working frantically on the buttons on his shirt underneath. He let out a feral growl and grabbed either side of the cardigan and pushed it off her shoulders. It was the first thing to hit the floor.

The next thing to go was that yellow and white blouse underneath.

Then Daryl's vest and shirt.

After that, Carol's arms wrapped around his neck again, pulling him with her into the living room, their lips still tangling with each others. It was hard to walk and the two of them ended up staggering into the back of the sofa and tumbling down onto the cushions. Carol was on top of him, straddling his waist. She looked down at him hungrily as her hands moved down his bare chest through the light smattering of chest hair. Her fingertips grazed his abs and stomach before she found the edge of his pants. Her eyes flickered to his face, reading him.

She only found the same fire that was in her eye. The same want. Daryl's eyes flickered down to her hands and then back up. His mouth was opened slightly as he watched her undo the clasp on his pants. He lifted his hips to help her push his pants down and then he let out a sharp gasp as her hand closed around his hard shaft. He reached over to touch her wrist. Then his hand travelled up her arm to her shoulder. His long, nimble fingers tugged the strap down before they moved to her chest. He gripped the cup and pulled it down, revealing her breast to him.

He couldn't take being the one on his back anymore, even if she was stroking him like she was. He needed to touch her…all of her. He needed his body against hers. He needed more.

Daryl sat up suddenly startling a squeak out of Carol before his mouth crushed against hers again. He scrambled to get rid of his pants and boots completely as his body covered hers. Then he continued on his desired path, kissing and nipping down her neck. He reached behind her and struggled for a moment with the clasp, but then the bra was gone and she was exposed to him. His mouth covered her nipple as her hands ran through his long, shaggy hair.

"Daryl," Carol sighed his name breathlessly as each movement he made sent little jolts of pleasure through her body. Daryl groaned in response and reached down to try to get her pants off. Her hands came down to help his, catching the edge of her panties along with the jeans.

With that, the last bit of her sheep's clothing was off.

She pulled his mouth back up to hers and took control, twisting them slightly until she was on top once again. He didn't care. Her body felt amazing against his. Her hand snaked between their bodies and gripped his cock. He groaned into the kiss as she guided it to her sex, wet with anticipation. His hands found her hips and he squeezed as she eased down on his cock. He was desperately trying to keep it together as she adjusted to him. It was beyond anything he could remember from his past life. It was beyond anything he had ever experienced before.

Then she was moving over him, controlling the pace and depth and driving him crazy. She sat up, her hands on his chest as she moved. Her fingers twitched as she rode him and his dug into her hips as he watched her move up and down. The gentle bounce of her breasts as she moved had him licking his lips. He wanted her too much. This wasn't going to last long.

"Carol," he managed in a strained groan, "Need…Christ…"

"Yes," Carol gasped. That was all he needed to sit up and change positions so that he was the one moving and pushing them closer to the edge. His teeth sunk into her shoulder as he emptied himself inside her. He could feel the pressure as her body succumbed to orgasm and he let out a long groan of satisfaction. Daryl collapsed on top of her, trying to catch his breath. Carol's head rested in the crook of his neck.

They didn't say anything. They didn't need to. They both understood perfectly. She was his and he was hers. That had always gone without saying, but tonight, they had taken it to a new level and this one was unbreakable.

Wolves mate for life, after all.

Daryl shifted his weight so that he wasn't crushing her and his soft cock slipped from her body. He sighed and rested his head on her chest. Her fingers played with the hairs on the base of his neck. He could have fallen asleep happily there. She let him lay there for a moment, but then, as always, she broke the silence.

"We still need a shower."

Daryl groaned in response.

0

The next morning, the group assembled outside, most of them eyeing the second house in anticipation. Only Daryl and Carol were absent, leading to hushed whispers and dirty jokes about what the pair might be up to. Rick, ever practical, assured the group that the pair were likely already out and about. He knew his friends were early risers, after all.

He was proven wrong when the door to the house opened.

Carol stepped out first, wearing the same clothes that she was wearing the previous day, the blue cardigan and yellowish top. Daryl emerged behind her, wearing dark jeans that didn't have holes in them, and a red button up shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. In all honesty, the sleeves probably wouldn't last long. His hair was still long, but it had been washed and trimmed. He didn't look like the feral, protective man that they all knew. He looked, in a word, ridiculous to all of them.

"Morning," Carol greeted brightly, "Plan for today?"

"Uh, getting the lay of the land," Rick said, blinking rapidly in surprise.

"Fitting in," added Michonne, looking the pair up and down, "though I see you've made some progress in that department. Got rid of the fleas, Daryl?"

"Carol's washin' my vest," Daryl muttered, glancing down at his feet. Still, the members of the group noticed the smug little smile on his lips.

"I'm going to take Daryl to find a job. The old folks might like squirrel stew," Carol joked, walking past the group. Daryl followed after her.

"I never thought I'd see Daryl smiling about being clean," Maggie said, suppressing a small laugh.

"I never thought I'd see him clean," Michonne added.

"He was probably just waiting for Carol to come clean him up," Glenn joked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Now just because they spent the night in the house doesn't mean anything happened," Rick said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Dixon's pawprints on the back of her blue sweater say otherwise, Officer," Abraham interjected, "He done claimed his mate right there."

Rick frowned and glanced down the street. He could just make out several dark handprints on Carol's back. He chuckled.

Now Alexandria had two wolves living amongst the sheep.

Two very, very dangerous wolves.

AN: So this was just a one-shot continuing the scene at the end of 'Remember'. Just have to say that I love what Carol is doing in Alexandria, hiding her true nature until the right moment. Also love Daryl's reluctance to be a part of the community. I could see Carol encouraging him to become part of it, if at least to protect the other. Let me know what you think!