bakerstreet | (no subject)

[Andrea had tuned out about halfway through Rick's debriefing. It's not as if she feels he doesn't deserve her undivided attention - on the contrary, she has a tremendous amount of respect for him as the leader of their group. But right now? Fresh on the heels of the biggest perimeter breach they've had in weeks? She doesn't have the wherewithal to listen to the Grimes Morale Booster Extravaganza. In fact, riding on the residual waves of adrenaline as she is, it's torture just standing here. She wants to go pick off more walkers, or build a wall, or...

Her eyes cut to Daryl. That's a particularly good way to burn off some energy. She still isn't sure if he agrees, but as he's had no problem going along with it before, she chooses to believe it's a viable alternative for him as well. Then Rick asks her a question about the east perimeter and she's left scrambling for some sort of response that doesn't get her busted for focusing more on Daryl's cock than the safeguarding of their fortress.

Eventually, they're all dismissed and Andrea takes a moment to exchange battle stats with Maggie before she idles up to Daryl.]

You wanna go for a walk or have you had enough adventure for one day?

[Her code talk isn't all that subtle, but her expression and her tone betray nothing.]

[Daryl, for his part, had maintained a good bit of attention to Rick's little pump-em-up speech, adrenaline or no; he owes the guy at least that much. Sure, Daryl'd been wary of him at first- he knows what he is and knows how unlikely it is that anyone sees past that, let alone a god damn cop- but as it turned out, Rick had been... Fair. Fair and smart and since he's done nothing but right by Daryl so far, Daryl figures it's the least he can do to not zone out.

...Even if he would much rather be outside actually doing something productive than just hanging around talking about it. Yeah okay, maybe he'd been a little fidgety. If there'd been a clock to glance at every other minute, he'd probably have been doing that, at least toward the end.

Once Rick had finally finished his spiel, Daryl'd intended on grabbing a weapon or two, heading either outside or into the far end of the prison, and doing just that: something. Patrolling, maybe, checking for any lingering roamers that may have gotten father than the rest, he doesn't know, anything to keep from stagnating inside the walls....

He's stopped just as he's breaking away from the group by Andrea, though, who seems to have the same thing in mind and he shrugs, just the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips; she usually does.]

Can't get enough, looks like.

[The threat's been contained, for the most part, so realistically there's not much to be done, but just hanging around isn't gonna fly. Not now, not when he's this wired.]

Ain't gonna say no to some company. [...Whatever the nature of that company may be. Dense though Daryl undoubtedly is where that's concerned, he knows how these things end up on occasion and while he isn't quite sure if she's thinking along those particular lines today, anything is better than nothing.] You thinkin' inside or out?

It's too cold for a stroll outside. I nearly froze my ass off doing what we had to do, even though there's nothing quite like a herd of walkers to make you forget all about hypothermia.

[As evidenced by the fact that a good portion of the group seemed to be headed back outside. Suppose everyone has their own way of dealing with the aftermath of a fight. Andrea decides to deal by giving Daryl a nudge and starting off in the opposite direction of the crowd.]

What letter do the cell blocks go up to? I've only gone as far as D.

[He nods.]

Ain't gettin' any warmer out there, that's for damn sure. You'd think it'd slow 'em down, at least...

[And maybe it has, who the hell knows? They're still dangerous, and that's all that really matters.

He lets himself be led away from the others, easily falling into step with Andrea as they make their way past the doors of their block and into a darker passage that leads deeper into the prison.] Goes to at least G, far as I know, maybe more. We never did much explorin' before y'all showed up.

[Since, you know, they'd been locked up tight. Hell, Andrea and her people probably know the place better than he does...]

[She smirks. It's always impressed her how Daryl was so good at departing valuable information and effortlessly punctuating it with a bit of sarcasm.]

G, huh? Well. I'm up for more adventure but not that much adventure. So I suppose we'll have to push past D another day.

[Except now that they are far enough from the others, the tail-end of block C is looking like a nice stopping point. She's well aware of Daryl's aversion to prison cells, so it's a bit of a mean streak that prompts her to drift away from his side and enter cell seven.]

It's not the kitchen, or the rec room, or the watchtower, but... [She turns to face him.]

At least it's cozy, right?

[It's a life skill, make no mistake.

Too much adventure? He gives her a somewhat questioning look, brows drawn in brief confusion considering that's what she'd said was the point of this little outing... At least until she ducks into a nearby cell, that is.

Oh. Oh. That is what she has in mind. ...Alright, now's as good a time as any, he supposes; he could get on board with that. Sure as shit beats any other alternative he has going on right now. There are worse ways to blow off some steam.

Casting a quick glance behind him to make sure no one else has decided to tag along- and you really can't blame him for his paranoia; he's come from the prison system, after all- he slips into the cell himself even as he eyes the bars with a slight frown. That mean streak is not appreciated... He snorts.]

Cozy's one word for it. [He'll deal. It isn't like there's a better option, and at least this one's cot isn't quite as moldering and nasty as it could be.] Could do a hell of a lot worse.

[He makes his way over, stepping slightly closer... But he doesn't try to touch her just yet. Awkward, thy name is Daryl, even if this isn't actually his first rodeo, nor his first with Andrea.] Least there's somethin' horizontal in here...

[She glances back at the cot as she removes her gun from the back of her jeans. There's no need to spend too much time sizing it up - she sleeps on one just like it every night and it isn't filthy beyond the overall dishevelment of the place.] Thank goodness for small miracles...

[When she sets her gun aside and turns back to Daryl, he's just as she expects - meek and apprehensive. She already knows he's a bit awkward when it comes to this sort of thing, and really, she can't say she blames him. This isn't exactly the way she's used to doing things either, but fortunately, on top of her mean streak, she's got a dash of pushiness that doesn't allow her to be too shy about initiating. She begins to unbutton her shirt.]

The more I think about it, though, the more I think this might be a pretty ideal setting for...whatever you want to call this thing we do. We can actually make ourselves comfortable. [When her last button is out of the way, she reaches out to pull him closer and begin on his jumpsuit.]

I just might make you comfortable enough that you forget you're back in a cell.

[However he feels about that mean streak he actually does appreciate the pushiness; frankly it's the only way to get anywhere with him. This sort of thing had always been Merle's area of expertise, whereas Daryl had excelled in other things, particularly cleaning up Merle's messes... And getting himself caught in them, obviously. Bringing anyone around to that? Not happening.

And as a result you have him where he is now: chewing at his lip as he silently watches Andrea's deft fingers pluck at the buttons on her shirt. She seems so at ease, casually stripping down in here, surrounded by corpses both walking or otherwise and with some con she'd found in an air duct, that he almost envies her. Anyone else might be afraid, or at least a little uneasy...]

Better than a cold kitchen counter.

[But not Andrea. Instead she's reaching to pull him closer and, to his credit, he at least has the sense to pick his hands up and settle them at her waist, thumbs brushing the warm skin exposed by her open shirt. He's not gonna comment on this thing they do, but "comfortable"? Yeah, he has something to say about that.]

Comfortable, huh? [He tips his head to the side slightly as she works at his clothes.] Big talk... How you gonna do that?

[...His tough-guy attitude is probably undermined somewhat by the fact that there's a light- but still noticeable, he ain't that lucky- flush creeping into his face. He's trying here, okay?]

[She grins and peels open his jumpsuit before maneuvering the material down his arms, batting his hands away from her waist for a moment, then pushing the material over his hips.] With a nice combination of patience and persistence.

[It's that flush in Daryl's cheeks (oh yes, she can see it) that makes it so easy for her to do this with him. No, she doesn't get off on pulling guys out of their comfort zone, nor does she set out to snag guys who are a bit bowled over by women who don't mind taking charge. It's more the fact that Daryl isn't just some convict to her. She's gotten to know him a bit over the last couple of months and, well, she likes him. Not in a silly, 'Be My Valentine' sort of way, but she thinks he's a decent guy. True, he's got a foul mouth and has said some pretty objectionable things (to Glenn, especially), but she doesn't believe any of it comes from a place of malice. She's not stupid enough to think he's not protecting his own interests - who isn't at a time like this? - but he doesn't just keep to himself and follow Rick's lead. She's never seen him hesitate to lend anyone a hand, including Glenn. He's loyal and works just as hard as they do, if not harder. And beneath all of that, he's got heart. More of it than the posturing and the jumpsuit would allow most people to see.

So this thing they do isn't something Andrea does frivolously.

That being said, this isn't her way of angling for some sort of relationship. There are no goo-goo eyes or soft caresses or whispered words of endearment. She doesn't care if he doesn't share his dinner with her, and she doesn't care if he opts to patrol the grounds with Rick rather than take up post by her side in the watchtower. She doesn't give a damn whether or not he "respects her in the morning", and she's not going to cry if he tells her no.

She does tend to kiss him, though, whenever they do this. Just because she's unattached doesn't mean she has to approach the situation like a prostitute. Plus, kissing serves a double purpose - it helps him hit his stride and forces him to stop with the macho talk.

Or at least that's what she tells herself when she brings a hand up to guide his lips to hers.]

[He lets her maneuver the jumpsuit from his arms, more agreeable in this situation than any other; he's just that far out of his comfort zone. That's not to say he doesn't want it though, as evidenced (hopefully) by the fact that as soon as his hands are freed from his sleeves he replaces them at Andrea's sides just a bit higher than they'd rested before.] Uh-huh. 'S that right...

[It'd taken him a while to realize these are good people, for the most part, reasonable people that he doesn't really have put up a front for; they aren't Merle and they aren't like the guys he used to run with that required the constant posturing and aggression that are part habit, part second nature. They're different, and most of them have grown on him. Even Glenn- kid's got balls and Daryl likes that. Eventually he'd had to cool it with the shit talk.

Mostly.

Actually, that's one of the things he likes about Andrea, too: she's tough as nails but not in that cold, nasty way, is the first to volunteer for the shit no one else wants to do and is a damn good shot- he knows he can trust her to have his back, and that's a big deal. She's also smart and genuine and sure as hell ain't shy about what she thinks or wants. And if the fact that she'd been the first to accept him into this little group of theirs factors in anywhere, well, he's just gonna ignore it. He doesn't need anyone's approval, at least that's what he's choosing to tell himself.

At the nudge of her hand he tips his head to the side, following her lead and ducking in to press his lips to hers with only a small bit of hesitation. He's under no illusion that this is anything other than what it looks like (and is perfectly happy with that, thank you very much- the fastest way to chase him off is to push for something he knows he can't give), but he's okay with a kiss here or there being included in the package. Aside from the obvious hedonistic reasons, yeah, it does give him something more productive to do with that foul mouth he's got on him. Takes the pressure off, too.

He lets his hands glide up Andrea's sides, skimming over the sides of her breasts as he moves to push her shirt from her shoulders. Get this show on the road.]

[There - now he's hit his stride. Andrea usually doesn't make it a point to strip beyond what's vital (time and location rarely allow for it), but she's feeling a bit more indulgent than usual. As such, she breaks the kiss only to get out of her jeans and unclasp her bra. Both are tossed and kicked aside, and when she comes back into the kiss, it's a bit more impassioned than before. Again with the adrenaline, but since she's got it, she figures she may as well use it for what it's worth.

Her hands brace against his sides and she presses her body into his, steering him toward the bed until the back of his legs hit the metal frame. There's a beat, a brief pause where she gently slides a hand up to his chest before shoving him back onto the cot.]

[Indulgence is the name of the game right now, as far as Daryl's concerned. Andrea pulls away to shrug out of her shirt, and when she reaches back to unhook her bra he can't help but have himself a nice long look. He ain't blind, and although he doesn't take the time to really look often, this view he's being treated to something he does appreciate when he has occasion. He also takes that opportunity to step out of his jumpsuit, leaving him in a worn t-shirt and thin, fraying boxers when she presses herself against him again.

Sighing slightly against her mouth at the way the soft curves of her breasts feel against his chest and the heat of her pressing against his half-hard dick, he lets her walk him backwards, tensing as his legs hit the cool metal. The shock does nothing to dampen his arousal, however; if anything it only adds to the adrenaline that still hasn't quite dissipated, directed now to the prospect of an activity a hell of a lot more pleasant than bashing skulls in. He's taken by surprise by that shove, but he can't ignore the fresh stab of lust as he tips back and lands on the cot, hands splayed out behind him to maintain his balance. Yeah, he kinda likes that, too.

He tugs his shirt up over his head, dropping it onto the cold, dusty concrete of the cell floor before glancing up at Andrea with an expression that's almost shy. It's uncomfortable, being exposed like this, the roadmap of his life on full display; every scar has a story behind it, and he could count on one hand the number of them he'd be even remotely comfortable talking about.

That's the price for getting involved like this, though, and as if to remind himself it's worth it he drags his hands up Andrea's sides, following the shadows cast on her skin by the bars until they're cupping her breasts, rough hands impossibly gentle, even hesitant. He looks up at her again, chewing at lip as his thumbs brush against her nipples lightly. He does want this, he just isn't quite sure how to ask.

[It'd be a lie to say she doesn't notice the scars. How could she not when it looked like someone - or several someones - seemed to have made an effort to carve him like a pumpkin? And because she's not nearly as subtle as she thinks she is, she "notices" for a second longer than she should have. Fantastic. The last thing she wants is for Daryl to feel self-conscious. Hell, getting naked like this is enough in itself without throwing in looks of surprise and confusion. She doesn't need to give him any reason to stop, least of all when he's making nice with her nipples and sending waves of pleasure straight between her legs. She's always been a bit sensitive in that regard...

Needless to say, she skirts over her faux pas by breaking away just long enough to get her panties off before going in for another kiss, gentler now, reclaiming his bottom lip from his teeth (she knows that shy gesture all too well). Of course, as meek as Daryl may be, she knows she doesn't have to treat him like a delicate flower. She certainly believes he could use more than a bit of TLC, but that isn't her place and this isn't the time. If she's kissing him gently, it's only so he knows that, yes, he's got permission. And maybe also to show she's not put off by the scars at all.

She's not sure if he can catch either meaning from the kiss, but if he can't, he really shouldn't have a problem catching on when she straddles him. The cot dips rather noticeably with the extra weight, and she presses into him to urge him to lie back, nipping at his bottom lip before he can think to say anything smart.]

[This isn't the first time she's seen him but still, Daryl doesn't exactly blame her for the way her eyes linger just a little bit too long for comfort. He knows what he looks like and he knows it's not the tattoos that are drawing her eyes. It's not the staring he minds, anyway, it's the questions, the probing, and on the worst occasions, the pity. He don't need no fixing, he ain't weak and he sure as hell ain't broken.

She isn't looking long enough for him to see any of that in her face, though, and in fact pulls away to finish undressing just in time to avoid any hard feelings over the staring. When she leans in for another kiss it is softer, but not offensively so; he takes it as the permission he was looking for and smooths his hands up her back as she guides him back against the mattress. He still hasn't stripped down all the way himself, but for the moment he's in no hurry- he isn't exactly complaining about the extra friction of his boxers.

Tipping his head up he catches her lips again, more forceful than before now that he's feeling a bit more comfortable with the situation. It might take him a bit longer than most, but there's only so long he can be unsure when she's pressed against him, body a warm weight bearing him into the mattress. He lets his hands drift up her bare thighs, still gentle but there's a hint of teasing now, too; his fingers stop a few inches shy of where she'd probably like them to be.]

[So he did catch her meaning. Not that she had any serious doubts - as often as they've done this, she'd be hard-pressed to believe they weren't attuned to each other's cues at least to some degree. With that, it isn't difficult to follow Daryl's lead with the kiss, and she doesn't miss a beat even as she settles herself just beneath the bulge in his shorts. She hums softly in appreciation as his hands skirt along her thighs, only to grin into the kiss the moment his fingers pause just short of hitting home.]

Since when are you such a tease?

[The question barely passes from her lips, so infatuated she his with his. But she waits for an answer just the same as she takes advantage of the space she's left between his groin and hers, slipping a hand down the front of his boxers. Her fingers wrap around his cock, teasing in her own way as she gently strokes him just enough to expose the tip above his waistband.]

[Slow though it may be, he's making progress as far as picking up on cues and interpreting body language goes. It's easier now that they've done this a few times, now that he has something to go off of in terms of her reactions... Like that hum and the grin he can feel against his lips, which he answers with a small smirk of his own. If he's a bit self-conscious about being called out on it, he's doing his best to keep it from showing.]

Since now.

[It comes out a bit more breathless than he intends, owing perhaps to the way she shifts in his lap and the sudden (but very welcome) sensation of skin on skin. His eyes flutter closed briefly as her hand slides into his shorts, fingers slightly cool against heated flesh. Her movements are slow and deliberate, just this side of not enough, and they send tiny shivers of pleasure right where he wants them. The slight touch really only serves to make him crave more, though... Which, he gathers, is probably her intention. Fair enough- he's the one who started it, after all.

With that in mind he lets one of his hands creep further up her thigh, the tips of his fingers slipping between her legs and into the heat he finds there. He works them gently, just the barest hints of pressure- enough, hopefully, but not enough, while his other hand drags up her side, palm brushing against the side of her breast.]

[Her breath hitches when the pads of his fingers press between her legs and the pressure is just enough to spur her on to what she brought him here to do in the first place. Not that she needs a lot of prodding to pull his shorts down, but as it stands now, she's no longer interested in when or why he's become such a tease.

Getting his boxers all the way down is unnecessary, but she does manage to yank them to his thighs. Then she moves, sliding her hips up to settle over his before shifting her weight until she feels his shaft pick up where his fingers left off. This is always the most difficult part - having Daryl pressed just so between her legs. Naturally, it's a testament to the trust they have for one another that they can be this excruciatingly close without throwing the whole 'no penetration' rule out the window.

But damn if it isn't tough for Andrea to keep that rule at the forefront of her mind, especially when she begins to roll her hips against his. Her movements are slow but steady as she braces her hands on either side of his head.]

[Lifting his hips to facilitate the (partial) removal of his shorts, he settles his hands at her waist, lips parting in anticipation when she realigns her body and starts to rock against him. It's good, the hot slide of her and the way he can feel her warm breath on his face when she leans to bracket his head with her hands, and he can't even bring himself to care that this is as far as they can go. Tempting though it is with her so close, all it takes is a second's thought about Lori Grimes and her condition and he's more than happy to leave it at just this. No fucking thank you.

Besides, this is good, good enough to pull a low groan from the back of his throat and good enough to make his fingers twitch as he drags calloused palms up her back and into her hair. The pace she's set is perfect, slow, maybe torturous for someone else but Daryl's a hunter; he's nothing if not patient and one of the things he likes best about this is the slow burn of pleasure that's building with every roll of her hips.

His hands move to her breasts again, though this time his touch is more deliberate- there's intent behind the way he circles the pads of his thumbs around her nipples, taking full advantage of the permission she's given. For someone who shies away from physical contact as much as possible, he certainly isn't having a problem with it now.]

[Perhaps she’s just caught up in the moment, but this had to be one of their best rounds yet. Or maybe it’s because being horizontal allows for better leverage, and therefore, better friction. Or maybe it’s because they actually have a moment where they can do this and not have to worry about waking anybody or having somebody round a corner and get an eyeful. Either way, she can't say she isn't enjoying herself immensely.

A groan rises in her throat when his hands make their way back to her breasts, and as the sensation settles between her legs, she sits up, bracing a palm against his chest as she picks up a quicker pace. And that feels pretty fucking fantastic. She’s good with keeping fairly quiet – no overenthusiastic moaning on her end – but the relative silence counts for nothing with the god damn cot squeaking the way it is. Oh well…]

[If he wasn't so taken by surprise at how much better this is in a more appropriate location and with few of the usual concerns distracting him from doing anything other than enjoy the ride, Daryl might actually be embarrassed at how worked up this whole situation is getting him. It isn't often he lets himself go enough to reach this point, but now that he has he's a little bit too far gone to be worrying about much of anything. For the moment he's willing to let his thoughts be dominated by the sound Andrea makes when his fingers find the peaks of her nipples, or the way that just that small groan sends a fresh wave of pleasure straight to his groin.

As far as keeping quiet is concerned, Andrea's got him beat. Not to say he's particularly loud, he never is, but once he gets over the way her palm against his chest makes him feel boxed in and slightly claustrophobic when combined with the boxers restricting the movement of his legs and the fact of their location, well... That cot creaking is probably for the best, masking the quiet sighs and stuttered breaths that escape his lips at this new, quicker pace.

There's heat creeping into his face and he knows he isn't going to last very much longer, not at this rate... But somehow that thought isn't as concerning as it should probably be. He considers, briefly, hooking an arm around Andrea's waist and flipping them both over, regaining some semblance of control that way, but he can't seem to make himself go through with it; there's something about this postion that he's enjoying too much to give up. Instead he just tips his head back against the mattress, letting his hands continue to roam over whatever parts of her he can reach.]

[There's something to be said for giving as good as one's getting. As far gone as Andrea is right now, watching Daryl's head tilt back into the cot is nearly as stimulating as what's going on below. Truth be told, she can't see all that well, dimly lit as the prison is, but from this angle she can definitely make out the slope along the underside of his chin and the chiseled cut of his jawline. Had this been a different kind of intimate encounter, she'd be half inclined to tell him just how attractive he is. But this isn't that, and rather than ruin a good thing, she keeps her steady pace, watching him as her attention splits between the slight flush rising up his cheeks and the familiar feeling stirring in her groin.

Of course, her attention isn't split for very long once the grinding and the slide of skin on skin gets to be too much. Her breathing begins to match his, shallow and erratic, before catching altogether as she hits her climax. Fingers curl against his chest and her own head tilts back as her hips wind down to a slow, languid slide.

Be that as it may, one of the things Andrea takes pride in is the fact that she's not selfish. So while she can say she's pretty satisfied, she's not completely there until Daryl is. Needless to say, the time between the tail-end of her orgasm and the moment she starts gyrating against him with a purpose is fairly minuscule. Without missing a beat, she pulls his hands away from her body and links their fingers, only to pin them down against the mattress. Yeah, she's testing him a bit (that mean streak again), but moving the way she is, it's almost as if she dares him to complain about it.]

[He can tell when she's close, and hell if her body shaking above his doesn't almost send him careening over the edge himself. The fingers curling at his chest, the slight scratch of her fingernails against his skin certainly doesn't hurt either, nor does the view when his eyes crack open again; with her head titled back like that his eyes are drawn down the line of her throat to the sharp jut of her collarbone, lower to the slow rolling of her hips that looks almost as good as it feels. Almost.

Once she takes his hands, though, it's game over; he didn't really need that extra push but god damn does he not mind one fucking bit. Complaining? Hell no. There's the whisper of a curse on his breath as his body tenses, arms straining with the effort of not crushing her fingers, and he bites down hard on the inside corner of his lip as his orgasm hits him full force. Thighs shaking, he comes hot between their bodies, hips jerking against hers as he rides it out, chasing those last residual shivers of pleasure until finally stilling.

His lips part in a soft sigh once the intensity fades, breathing still shallow and ragged, and he can feel his body relaxing, sagging against that god damn squeaky cot. Adrenaline faded to almost comical levels, he's now comfortably exhausted, loose and boneless- a rare experience for him even after getting off. He doesn't disentangle his fingers from hers just yet, but it's not out of any desire to make this something it's not; he's just that beat, and frankly he isn't ready to move just yet.]

[It isn't her intention to make a show out of Daryl, but the moment his body tenses, she can't help slowing down and simply watching as his climax unfolds. The sharp jab of his hips jolts her body upward and she briefly marvels at the way the cot has managed to hold up against all the action they've thrown at it. Not too bad for cheap prison furniture.

She comes to a stop herself when he begins to relax and gently pulls her hands from his to run them over her face and through her hair. A long, slow breath passes through her lips as she looks down at him, all drained and limp, and bites back a grin.]

Comfortable now?

[When she disentangles her fingers from his he lets one hand drop to dangle over the edge of the cot. The cold metal of the frame feels even colder against the sensitive and still heated skin of his arm, and he shivers slightly but doesn't move it- he is comfortable, thank you very much.

He flicks the hand not currently flopped over the side of the bed, gesturing lazily at the cell at large.]

It look like I'm goin' anywhere in a hurry?

[There's the hint of a lopsided smile tugging at his lips; yeah, you win, Andrea. He imagines he must look like a mess, hair mussed and sticking up slightly from being mashed into the mattress- and then there's the more blatant matter of the shorts around his thighs and spunk cooling at his stomach- but he just can't bring himself to give a shit. In fact, the only thing missing that could make this any better would be a smoke... God damn could he use one. Of course, he hates himself for even thinking about it (because hadn't he learned anything from his mother...?) but being in here for a few months had bucked him off of that high horse pretty damn quick. That'd been one of the things he'd left behind when he'd crawled into that air duct, and he's regretting the oversight now.

He drags a hand through his hair before bringing his thumb to his mouth and catching the nail between his teeth, nibbling at it for a second before glancing up at Andrea again.]

Guess we should head back soon, though.

[He's starting to come back to himself now as reality sets in... The escape was nice while it lasted.]

[She smirks, but because he's such a good sport about it that she can't bring herself to gloat too much. It's actually quite nice to bask in the afterglow for a moment, Daryl at ease beneath her while she closes her eyes for a moment, head lulling to the side as she fights the urge to lie down herself. She can't remember the last time she's felt so relaxed, which is peculiar considering a maximum security prison is hardly the most relaxing place to be. Sign of the times.

Or maybe it all boils down to the company she keeps. In world of extreme chaos, Daryl's shown himself to be amazingly calm - probably even the most levelheaded person in the group. As much as they hang around each other, it only make sense for Andrea to pick up some of that energy for herself.

But as level as Daryl can be, Andrea's convinced that 'awkward' is pretty much his default. And as if on cue, she opens her eyes to catch the sight of his thumbnail slipping between his teeth; he doesn't even have to speak for her to know the party's over.

When he does speak, she barely nods in response and pulls an elastic from her wrist to tie her hair up before finally moving off of him.]

Wait here...

[Like at the end of any good party, there's a mess to clean up. In this instance, there's nothing immediate to clean with, so Andrea does the next best thing by fishing her pocket knife from her jeans and half cutting, half ripping a good-sized piece of scrap from the sheet. She swipes the material once over her lower abdomen before folding it over and handing it to Daryl.]

Here.

(no subject)

Tres cool! I feel so naughty and BAMF for writing bewbs and pen0r at work. #ThugLyfe

Ahahahaha oh man the only computer I have at work is the office one... IF ONLY.

Sorry for the delay. I had a tag worth PAGES, then realized how ridic it was and chopped it down.

Not to worry lmao I always have to do that. Tl;dr is how I roll.

It was PISSED. I spent forever writing it and then I just stopped & was like 'WTF am I doing?' Geez.

Hahaha story of my life. I don't mind novels, though, no worries :B

You should if they're coming from me!

fffff ESPECIALLY if they're coming from you :B

TOO KIND you are. X) Also, poor Daryl. :(

Any incarnation of Daryl is the poster child for "fuck my life"

no subject

guh sorry for the delay, company this weekend :C

Man, I hear you. Ffff Superbowl Sunday and the Monday after.

I... Watched American Horror Story instead of the game. WHOOPS.

I love AHS! I couldn't care less about football but was duped into hosting festivites.

I totally enjoyed it! Oh man HOSTING? MAKE ALL THE WINGS.

What is my life? X|

Footbally, apparently. 8C. ...SHOW TONIGHT OMG.

WALKING DIXONS!

B E S T.

Unlike many, I'm glad Daryl chose asshole Merle. Cuz dammit, I LOVE DIXON BROS DYSFUNCTION!

...Are you me? I shamelessly love Merle and their dysfunction, idgaf. Rooker uuuugh gdi

Man, I love it. How did Daryl and Merle become the most interesting characters on the show? Do want.

I dunno but I'm super excited for more Dixon awesomeness

UGH. I had this all good to go before bed but DW decided to go down. Assholes.

:| Yeeeah I was already out by then but what a pain in the ass...

Happy V-Day!

You too, man! C: